#he was also dangling the truth right in front of el

[chirpsythismorning]

One thing I love about twelvegate is that it easily explains why Henry picked Billy to torment them in the first place. Because in doing so he was also mocking the truth right under El's nose...

Billy aka William

[moonlight-presence]

okay this idea just came to me and I NEED it (also I loved your taking turns fic, so I know you'll slay this) okay here it is:

reader is neighbours with the moon boys, friends with all of them but nothing further than that. mutual pining and crushes from Steven, Marc and Jake toward reader.

reader invites the boys over one night for some drinks and it turns into them all playing a drinking truth or dare together. the prompts for truths and dares start to get a bit cute but also a bit steamy and one thing leads to another and they all end up hooking up (like the guys all appear at least once during the deed).

I hope this makes sense lmao, I literally love your work so much ily 🤍🌙

Truth or dare

(Jake, Marc and Steven X Reader)

Category: F/M

Fandom: Moon Knight (2022)

Relationships: Jake Lockley X Reader, Marc Spector X Reader, Steven Grant X Reader

Words: 5 060

Summary: Jake, Marc and Steven play a game of truth or dare with you.

Warnings: Oral sex, missionary, overstimulation, begging, a bit of crying

Translation for the Spanish words: “princesa”: princess; “mi amor”: my love; “¿Verdad o atrevimiento?”: truth or dare?

MATURE CONTENT 18 +

🌘🌗🌖🌕🌔🌓🌒

You open your mailbox and take out a few letters. There´s no one else at the entrance of the building you live in, just you and the noise of your keys dangling on your fingers. You try to close the mailbox but the phone in your right hand makes the task almost impossible. After a few more unsuccessful tries, you decide to hold your phone with your mouth while you close and lock the mailbox.

In the middle of doing this,  you hear the front door opening, the sound making you jump and almost drop your phone. Luckily for you, your lips manage to hold the device quite firmly. You hear the door close again and then turn around to greet who entered.

"Good aftern-", Marc, your neighbor, stops talking as he sees you with your phone in your mouth and a bunch of letters in your hands. You immediately drop the phone to the ground without realizing it and your cheeks color.

"Shit.", you curse and kneel to grab your phone. You can feel your heart racing and embarrassment creep into you as Marc helps you gather your things.

"Are you okay? Sorry, I startled you, Y/N.", he says as he picks up your letters and helps you get up. He gently grabs your arms and you feel his rough fingers brush your skin slightly. A shiver runs down your spine.

"No, sorry, I was... I was just trying to close my mailbox... Hum...", you struggle with words as you meet his eyes. He is still holding your arms and you look at his hands making him remove them.

"No, yeah, yeah, it´s fine. You just surprised me with the phone on your mouth...", he jokes with a smile making you chuckle and put your phone in your back pocket. Marc hands you the letters and you smile at him.

"Sorry...", you whisper and brush a strand of hair out of your eyes. You look at him for a bit and then try to say something, "You going up?"

"Yeah, you too?", he asks making you smile and nod. You walk towards the elevator and press your floor number.

As the elevator starts going up you can feel that awkward silence begin to install between you too. Your body begins sweating and that warm sensation in your stomach appears. You always feel like this when you are close to him...

"How are-"

"I was thin-", you cut yourself off as Marc speaks first. You look at each other and smile slightly before you add, "Go ahead."

"No, it´s okay, you were saying?"

"Hum... I just wanted to ask you if you want to come over for some drinks tonight?", you have no idea how you managed to have the courage to ask that but you just did. Your cheeks are now bright red as Marc´s eyes widen and he clears his throat, you notice he is turning redder too.

"Yeah, I would love to. You need me to bring anything?"

"Just yourself.", you laugh at your joke but then immediately want to slap yourself for how stupid it sounded. You idiot...

Marc actually chuckles at your failed joke and nods. The elevator doors open and he steps out and waits for you to follow him. You each walk to your apartment and then you share one last glance with him.

"Oh, you can come over at around 9. Is that good with everyone?", you ask and Marc waits a bit before answering.

"Jake and Steven say it´s fine. See you later, Y/N, and don´t drop your phone again.", he winks at you and enters his apartment leaving you embarrassed and with a slight grin on your lips.

This night is either going to be a disaster or the best night of your life.

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

Tick....tock.....tick.....tock....tick....Tock.

The clock hits 9 pm.

You glance at your front door and rub your fingers anxiously as you wait for the bell to ring. You did tell them to be here at around 9 but you didn't actually think they would only show up at 9.

You glance at the two wine glasses on top of the table and the bottle of wine you fetched earlier. The wine is getting a bit warm and so are you. Part of you is scared they aren't going to show up at all...

This was a stupid idea, a dumb fucking idea and now you have em-

Ding...Dong.

You nearly jump at the noise of your bell ringing, your heart now beating fast inside of your chest. You look at the mirror in front of you for a second and breathe in.

Your hands grab the handle and you open the door to reveal Steven looking back at you. He is holding a box of chocolates in his hand as he stares at you with a nervous grin.

"H-hi.", he almost whispers making you smile and let him inside of your home.

"Hey, Steven, come on in.", you invite and he nods before entering the apartment. You close the door behind you and try to stop your hands from shaking.

Fucking calm down, okay?

"Beautiful...", he whispers as he looks at you. You widen your eyes and his cheeks color before he looks around and adds," Your flat. It's lovely, love what you have done with the place."

You try to hide a small smile but fail miserably as Steven awkwardly looks everywhere except at you. Your eyes meet his box of chocolates and you clear your throat.

"Are those for me?", you ask making Steven finally look at you. His cheeks are flushed red and he seems to be shaking like a piece of paper on a windy day.

"W-what... Oh-... Hum- yeah.", he hands you the chocolates and you grab the box, "Thought you might fancy some chocolates."

"In fact I do.", you reply with a smile as you open the box to see a bunch of heart-shaped chocolates inside of it, "Thank you, Steven. I actually don't remember the last time anybody has ever bought me chocolates."

Steven opens his mouth but chooses not to say anything at your words. Instead, he just looks at you with that awkward but sweet expression you are so familiar with. That's what you adored about Steven, he was so sweet... Sweet like chocolates. Ironic, isn't it?

"Should we take a seat?", you ask and signal the couch behind him. He nods and sits down rapidly as you follow him and do the same.

You open the bottle of red wine and pour some of it into the two glasses in front of you. Steven doesn't say anything as you do this but you can feel his eyes staring at you... You do wonder what he is thinking.

You give Steven his glass and then pick up yours, "Cheers."

"Cheers.", he says and takes a sip from the alcoholic drink. You swallow the liquid and then open the box of chocolates to take one out.

"You are trying them now?", he asks alarmed making you raise an eyebrow at him as you place one chocolate inside of your mouth.

"Shouldn't I?", you start chewing and an amazingly sweet flavor fills your mouth. It tastes of hazelnut and caramel, a lovely mixture that seems to have been made by some sort of god.

"It's a bit scary that's all...Imagine you hate the chocolates I bought you. That wouldn't be good, would it? No.", he mumbles while you look at him with a big smirk on your lips. You gently place your hand on his knee before you speak.

"Hey, they are amazing, okay? Relax.", you assure him with a soft smile. You realize that Steven's body has tensed up and you look at your hand, "Sorry."

You remove it and take another big sip from your wine.

After a few glasses and more small talk, you are starting to feel a little braver as the alcohol finally starts kicking in.

"Have you ever played truth or dare, Stevie?", you ask and he shakes his head, his cheeks now naturally red because of the alcohol.

"I think Marc has played it but I am not so sure...", he confesses with a slightly dragged voice.

"It's pretty simple... I say truth or dare and you chose. Got it?", you ask and Steven gets a bit closer to you and nods with a big smile.

"Truth or dare?"

"Hum... Truth.", he chooses and you think of something.

"Is it true that... You never got drunk before?", Steven giggles at your question making you laugh. His smile is so pretty... So so pretty.

"Busted!", he says with a dramatic voice, "Okay, my turn, honey cakes... Hum... Truth or dare?"

"Dare.", you immediately choose before finishing your glass of wine. Honey cakes... That's new.

"I dare you to...Try to lick your elbow."

You raise your eyebrows and burst out laughing at his insane dare. Steven puts down the glass of wine and supports his head on his hand while he waits for you to do it.

"Oh, God... You are serious.", you say and he nods with a determined look. You shake your head with a big grin and lift your arm.

You stare at your elbow and stuck out your tongue as far as possible. After a few moments of struggling and grunting, you give up, there's no way you can actually do it.

"I can'ttttt...", you whine with a defeated voice making Steven chuckle.

"You look ridiculous right now.", he jokes making you open your mouth and look at him with an exaggerated shocked face.

"Was this all a plan so you could see me embarrass myself?", you ask and gently push away his chest making Steven almost fall.

"Maybe... Hey, it was kind of Marc's idea, sorry.", he confesses with a guilty smile.

"Marc's idea... Okay, two can play this game. Marc.", you watch as Steven's eyes roll up suddenly, his whole body becoming stiffer with amazing quickness.

"Yes?", Marc´s voice replies.

"Truth or dare?", you say with a smirk making Marc come close to your face with a challenging look.

"Dare."

"Bad choice...I dare you to...", you get a bit closer and your smirk deepens, "Drink the rest of the bottle in one go.”

Marc´s gaze drops slightly to your lips as you speak and you can´t help but feel tingles running down your spine. He waits a bit before answering, his eyes just studying your face as if you were a piece of art.

“Okay.”, he simply replies before leaning back and grabbing the half-full bottle of wine.

“Somebody´s confident.”, you tease making Marc smirk and put the bottle against his lips.

“Watch and learn.”

Marc starts swallowing the liquid rapidly and you observe his Adam´s Apple bob up and down, a stream of wine running down his neck slightly making the whole scene kind of obscene... You shouldn´t be thinking these things and yet here you are.

As Marc is almost finished, you quickly place your hands on the sides of his torso and tickle him making Marc pull the bottle away from his mouth and spit the rest of the wine down his shirt.

You burst out laughing and lean back against the couch as Marc struggles to breathe, his shirt now wet because of your actions. You are sure that stained your couch but it was worth it just to see that shocked look on Marc´s face.

“Y-You... Why did you do that?”, he says making you laugh harder. You grab the bottle from his hand and take a sip, your eyes never leaving his.

“I think you spilled a little bit of wine down your shirt...”, you say with a cocky voice while you wipe the wine from your lips with the back of your hand. Marc looks at his shirt and up at you, his lips curled into a smirk.

“Ah-ah, hilarious...”, he replies making you giggle and compose your posture.

You put down the bottle of wine and look at him again, his chest sticking to the shirt making his skin appear underneath. Your drunk mind can´t help but wonder one thing and, without really thinking about it, you say:

“I dare you to take off your shirt.”

Silence.

The words come out of your mouth so quickly that you don´t really realize how insane they are... You just asked your neighbor to take off his shirt. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-

“Alright, as you wish.”, he says cutting your line of thought.

Marc grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it up to reveal his naked torso underneath. He tosses the wet material to the floor and tries to clean the wine from his chest.

You don´t say anything... Even if you wanted to, you literally can´t speak. Your heart is beating so fast and your mind is spinning. Every muscle in your body is begging you to get closer to him.

Focus. You have to focus.

But it´s hard to... Really fucking hard, especially because Marc is fucking shirtless in front of you.

Your eyes drift to his exposed skin and you notice he has multiple scars on his chest and what seems like gunshot wounds. You immediately lift your eyes in respect to him and try to calm down.

“Your turn. Truth or dare?”, he asks with a deep strained voice. You lick your lips and think of a choice.

“Truth.”

Marc inhales a bit and starts chewing on his inner cheek, his mind deep in thought as he tries to find something to say. The silence only makes your nerves get worse and you start to rub your fingers together.

“Is it true that you are nervous because I am shirtless?”, he asks making your cheeks color deeply. Marc laughs at your reaction and brushes his curly hair with his hand, “Thought so...”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever...”, you try to play it cool but it´s obvious you are quite flustered, “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Are you dating anyone?”

You meet his eyes and wait for an answer, your body too drunk to care about anything.

“No. And you? Are you seeing somebody?”

“No.”, you quickly reply making Marc chuckle and smirk at you.

“Good...”, he whispers making you hold your breath, “I dare you to touch my chest.”

You slowly lift your hands and place them on his wet skin. You get a bit closer and start tracing his chest slowly, your fingers touching his scars as if you are studying them. Marc doesn´t move away or flinch so you continue doing so, your eyes fixed on his body as you do this.

“Do they hurt?”, you ask with a whisper.

“Not anymore... ”

You don´t ask further questions but your hands stay on his skin. Suddenly his whole body goes stiff again and you look up to see Marc struggling to control his body. You don´t know what is quite happening but soon you realize what is going on.

“Jake...”, you say and Jake looks down at you, his cocky smirk immediately telling you that he has control over the body.

“  ¿Verdad o atrevimiento?”, his fingers run up your arms slowly. You let a small breath escape your lips and get closer to him, your chests now pressing against each other.

“Truth”, you say and Jake´s hands stop at the hem of your blouse. He looks at your lips and then at your eyes.

“Is it true that...”, he sneaks his fingers inside of your blouse suddenly. You feel as he starts rubbing your skin, his hands going more and more up in a way that makes your core start throbbing, “You like being touched like this?”

“Like what?”, you ask, playing dumb. Jake puts his hands on your back and pushes you against him suddenly making you gasp and almost his forehead.

“I think you know how...”, he whispers and you can´t resist any longer.

You connect your lips hungrily and grab the back of his head. The kiss is messy and you are struggling to breathe but you do not care. You have dreamt of this moment, you have imagined it ever since you met them.

You can´t believe that you are finally tasting him, touching him, feeling him. You know Jake a little less than Marc and Steven but it´s alright, you trust him and you equally like him as you do them.

“I want you...”, you whisper between kisses making Jake groan and pull away. He grabs your blouse and lifts it off of your body making you gasp.

“I know you do, mi amor.”, he says with a cocky grin making you roll your eyes playfully.

Jake puts his hands on the straps of your bra and starts tracing them down your body, his attention completely on your chest. You don´t move an inch but you can feel your legs trembling as his digits stop at your back and he undoes the clasp of your bra.

Your breasts pour out immediately now that nothing is holding them, and you try your best not to cover them. Jake notices that you seem a bit nervous and he puts his finger on your chin making you look up.

“You are beautiful...”, he whispers making your stomach tingle and your cheeks heat up. He smiles an almost too innocent smile for him and connects his mouth to your neck.

Jake kisses and bites gently your skin, each kiss getting lower and lower. He reaches your collarbone and then bites it, it´s so gentle you feel nothing but pleasure running down your spine.

His hands find your shoulders and he pushes you down the couch, your whole body falling as if you weigh nothing to him. You look up at him and see him undoing his belt making you unbutton your jeans and pulling them down your legs until they are on the floor.

“How do you want it, mi amor?”, he asks with a smirk and you spread your thighs and put your hand on your panties, your eyes never leaving his.

“Suprise me...”, you challenge and Jake grabs your wrist and takes your hand away from your pulsing center.

“Tch-tch, no touching yourself... That´s my job.”, he says while he pins your wrist up.

You bite your lip and nod rapidly, your body basically begging for him. Jake´s hand finds your other wrist and he pins it up as well, both of your arms now secured under his grip. You simply breathe in and look down at his boxers, his erection is prominent and the size of it is making your heart beat faster.

“You like what you see, princesa?”, he asks with a cocky voice making you lick your lips and nod. Jake´s free hand pulls down his boxers and you widen your eyes as you see his cock sprung out of them, the tip is flushed red and leaking a bit.

It´s big... Really fucking big. Maybe way too big for somebody who hasn´t had sex in a while.

“Here...Feel it for a bit.”, he says and then starts rubbing the tip against your clothed clitoris making you moan and buck your hips.

He continues teasing you like this, each rub sending another wave of wetness out of your entrance. You fucking need him so badly, you want him to fuck you until you can´t think any longer. He is so close yet so fucking far.

“Jake...Please...”

“Please what?”

“More...Give me more.”, you beg and he chuckles before pulling away and grabbing the sides of your panties.

You feel as he pulls them to the side gently, his fingers collecting some of your wetness in a way that is driving you insane. Jake traces your folds and then stops at your entrance, his digits just agonizingly circling the area.

“Is this all for me, mi amor... Or for us?”, he asks and then you remember that Marc and Steven can also see and hear everything that´s going on. The thought is enough to make you whimper.

“B-Both options...Fuck, please.”, you beg again and he lets go of your wrists.

You don´t move them as Jake grabs your panties and then, with a quick gesture, rips them in half. You open your mouth in shock but quickly forget about it as Jake´s mouth connects to your clitoris. He was so fast about it that you don´t have time to register what is going on.

Instead, you moan and grab a fistful of his curls in reflex. Jake moans around your clit and starts circling his tongue, his hands now on your thighs as he spreads them apart.

“F-fuck... Oh my G-god...Y-Yes...”, he continues eating you out in a ravenous way and, when you are about to cum, he pulls away leaving you begging for more, “No...M-more.”

“Patience...”, that wasn´t Jake´s voice. Is that-

“Marc?”

You look down at Marc and nearly faint at the sight, his mouth is covered in your wetness and his cheeks are flushed. He seems to have switched with Jake when he was down there.

“Look at you... How much do you want my cock, baby? Tell me.”

“S-so badly... I want it now.”, you plead. Marc presses a kiss to your belly and then gets up.

Marc grabs his pants from the floor and takes out a condom from his back pocket. You force down a small smile as you realize he was actually planning on having sex with you tonight...

He opens the package and kneels on the couch again, his hands putting the condom around his flushed cock. When he is all done, Marc looks down at you and smirks, his eyes studying your body as if it is his job.

He grabs your hips and pulls you against him, making your center hit his thighs. You watch as he towers over you, his sweaty curls falling on his forehead and his eyes never leaving yours.

“Do you know for how long I have imagined this, Y/N?”, he whispers while his tip presses against your entrance, “Answer me.”

“F-fuck... N-No...”, you say as he starts going inside very slowly. You gasp as your walls try to strech around his cock. It´s hurting a bit but you are too needy for it to be actually painful.

“Every fucking day... I lay in bed thinking about you, I dream about you, I can´t stop thinking about you.”, he says with a groan as his whole shaft enters you. He lets his head fall a bit and he curses under his breath, “So fucking tight...Fuck.”

You moan his name softly and wrap your legs around his lower back, making him get deeper inside. The action makes Marc groan again and you grab his back for some sort of support. You just need to be close to him.

“Me too... I want you so badly. I have always wanted you.”, you confess and Marc lifts his head to look at you.

He seems... shocked? His eyes widen at your words, and you feel his heart beat faster than usual.

Is he surprised about this? You always thought it was obvious you had a massive crush on them.

“I am gonna fuck you so good...So good.”, and then he starts thrusting.

You arch your back and let out a pornographic moan escape your mouth as Marc starts fucking you at a quick pace. Every thrust sends a wave of pleasure down your body, the sloppy sounds filling the room as he does this.

You just close your eyes and feel him...And it feels so fucking good. He is better than you could ever imagine. His thrusts are precise, his pace not too quick but not too gentle.

You can sense he is desperate for you. His cock is pulsing and you notice that he is starting to sweat. Your fingers grab onto his back muscles and you try to lift your hips to give him a better angle.

“F-fuck... You feel so good. So good for me.”, he praises with a strained voice. You moan and bury your face into the crook of his neck.

“Marc... Oh my god...”, you don´t know what else to say. You can´t really say anything but moan his name over and over again as he brings you closer to your climax.

Suddenly, Marc stops moving and you open your eyes to look at his face. You pull away from his neck and stare at him but what you see isn´t Marc any longer.

“Bloody hell, Marc is a bit closer than I predicted...”, Steven says as he stills his hips and looks at your face. You part your lips and, in a moment of pure ecstasy, connect your lips to him.

He kisses you back and you immediately realize that even their kisses are different. Steven is gentle and soft with his actions. He makes sure not to invade your mouth but, instead, go along with you.

You bite his lip softly and pull away before lifting your hips and begging him to move again. Steven moans and nods before thrusting his cock into you once again.

“R-right there...”, you praise and Steven continues gently moving. He isn´t fucking you as Marc did.

He seems to be taking his time to pleasure you to the max, his thrusts are precise but they aren´t as violent as Marc´s were. Nonetheless, both of them are giving you exactly what you need.

“Y-you are so beautiful...”, he moans, his forehead pressing against yours as he breathes into your mouth. You whine and dig your fingernails against his back making Steven hiss and push harder.

“I-I am gonna cum... Steven, please fuck me. P-please... I need it.”, you beg, too drunk to think about anything else but the tsunami of pleasure about to hit you.

“I am here... I am right here. Cum for me, darling. Do it.”, he encourages and that´s all it takes.

You arch your back and close your eyes, your heart beating faster than ever and your clitoris throbbing as your walls pulsate around his cock. Your body starts trembling so hard you swear it´s gonna give out but it doesn´t. Steven wouldn´t let it, he is still holding you there, giving you what you need to go through this.

You move your head and gasp for fresh air as your body finally starts calming down. Your chest is heaving, your skin is covered in sweat as you come back to life.

You stay there for a little bit, just gasping for air as Steven doesn´t move an inch. Did he cum? You can still feel his cock hard inside of you. Why didn´t he-

“Did you think I wouldn´t be the one finishing inside of you, mi amor?”, Jake says and you widen your eyes as he moves again.

Your body isn´t ready for it so you contract your muscles and feel tears form in your eyes as immense pleasure runs through you. It´s a strange sensation.

“J-jake, it´s too much... I-I don´t think I can cum again.”, you say with a breathless voice but he simply picks up his rhythm.

“You can, princesa... Be a good girl for me, will you?”, he asks and you nod and try to focus on cumming again.

Jake speeds up and sneaks a hand down your body, his fingers tracing your sweaty skin until he finds your abused clit. He begins rubbing it and you scream at the stimulation. It´s like you are drowning in pleasure and there´s only one way of escaping it.

“Oh, God...Oh, God... I-I think... F-fuck.”, your eyes start tearing up and you close them, your face flushed red with blood.

“Do it. Cum for me.”, he orders and you let it overtake you.

You throw your head against the couch and let a long and loud moan escape your throat. It´s something you have never heard before but you couldn´t really control it. Jake continues fucking you through it and then you feel his cock pulsate inside of you as well.

He moans your name against your ear and stops moving, his breath hot against your neck as you fight your way out of your second orgasm.

The feeling is way more intense than anything you have ever felt before. You have never experienced something like this and it´s insane how you aren´t dead right now.

After what feels like ages, you open your eyes and let your arms and legs fall.

“A-are you okay?”, Marc asks after taking control of the body and you nod slowly.

“J-just a bit overwhelmed.”, you whisper between breaths. Marc presses multiple kisses on your cheeks and then pulls away from inside of you.

You just groan and clean the sweat off of your forehead as you hear him pour wine into a glass. He takes a long sip and looks down at you, his chest also heaving because of how tired he is.

“Need a drink?”, he asks and you nod, your arm stretching so you grab the glass from his hand.

You lift your body and drink the rest of the wine, the fresh liquid making you feel a little bit better. You put down the glass and stare at him.

“Marc...”

“Yeah?”

You lean against him and press a long kiss against his lips. Marc kisses you back and holds the back of your hair. It´s crazy how your lips seem to fit into each other perfectly.

Marc is the one to pull away, his lips curled into a smile as he holds you gently.

“I think I love you...”

Your heart skips a beat and you let out a relieved laugh at his words. Fuck, is this really happening?

“I think I love you too... All of you.”

And it was true... So fucking true.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S3:E2; Chapter Two, The Mall Rats - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

Baffled with Mike's sudden behavior, El seeks out Y/n and Max for advice while Will struggles to get through to Mike and Lucas. Billy takes his co-worker on a field trip, and Steve and Dustin enlist a helpful ally in their top-secret mission.

||𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"And then he said he— he missed me. And then he just hung up."

Max, who had been pacing for as long as El had been telling the story from her bed, pauses briefly.

"He's a piece of shit." She says, resuming her angry pacing.

"What?"

"Mike doesn't have jackshit to do today, and his Nana obviously isn't sick," she stops again, a strained grin growing on her face. "And I guarantee him and Lucas are playing Atari right now,"

A sigh comes from Y/n, who sits up against Max's headboard, one leg dangling off the bed and the other propped up next to El. A similar expression to Max works its way onto her features as she looks between the two girls.

"She's right," she shakes her head, cupping her glass of f/d in her left hand even tighter. "I was with Will earlier and he told me he and Lucas were meeting at Mike's house,"

Growing visibly confused, a wounded expression comes over El's face as she looks between them.

"But... friends don't lie."

"Yeah, well boyfriends lie." Max fires back. "All. The. Time."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"She knows I'm lying. She knows I'm lying!"

Mike paces his basement floor, his heart hammering in his chest just at the thought of how deep he was into trouble. Lucas sits on the recliner, just feet away from Will who was setting up the campaign Y/n had helped him to plan.

"I don't even understand," Lucas says. "Why lie?"

Will looks up from the D&D board he was setting up.

"Hopper," Mike answers. "He threatened me,"

"Did he say he'd kill you?"

Mike stops, looking at Lucas baffled. "What? No!"

"So what's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that if I don't do what he says, he's gonna stop me from seeing El. Like, permanently,"

"Did you try telling her the truth?" Will asks. "You, know tell her what Hopper wants?"

Mike shakes his head, seeming eager to dismiss the thought. "No, she—" He sighs, running a hand over his face. "She wouldn't understand. She wouldn't take it the right way,"

Will makes a face. "I think you're underestimating her,"

"It wouldn't matter anyway," Mike says, clearing beginning to get worked up again. "You don't understand," he looks again between his two friends with a frantic look in his eye. "Neither of you understand. Hopper's crazy. He's lost his mind. I had no choice. I really had no choice,"

"You could have told her the truth," Will tries again. "That was an option,"

"So was consulting me first," Lucas chimed in, causing Will to roll his eyes and return to his game. "Because, the way you handled this..." he shrugs. "You're in deep shit,"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"You're gonna stop calling him," Max says, growing stern. "You're going to ignore his calls. As far as you're concerned, he doesn't exist."

"Doesn't exist?" El gaped.

"Or you could call him out," Y/n adds. "Confront him. Work it out?"

"Bullshit! He treated her like garbage," Max says, turning back to El. "Now you're gonna treat him like garbage. Give him a taste of his own medicine."

El nods stoically as the works soak in.

"Give him the medicine,"

Y/n smiled to herself down into her drink at that before taking another sip.

"Mm-hmm," Max nods, proudly. "And if he doesn't fix this? If he doesn't explain himself? Dump his ass."

Both El and Y/n's eyes go wide.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Arhhgg!!!"

Mike slaps his hands against his forehead after collapsing into the couch with an aggravated groan.

Lucas winced beside him.

"I'm not gonna lie. It's gonna be bad,"

"ARGHH!"

Lucas draws in a deep, thoughtful breath. "But, you can fix this." He jumps to his feet. "It's just one little mistake. I've made hundreds. Thousands!"

Will looks up from the D&D board again with a frown.

"Are you guys really this bad at relationships?"

Lucas looks over at him and scoffs. "I wouldn't call Me Winning Max Back Five Times being bad at relationships," he boasts, turning back to Mike.

It's Will's turn to scoff. And he does so while placing another character on the gameboard as he mutters to himself. "I would,"

"That's right," Lucas continues, not having heard Will's little remark. "Max has dumped me five times. But what I have done? Huh? Have I despaired? No. I've marched back into battle and I've won her back every freaking time."

"I don't think that's a good thing, Lucas," Will tries again, but is again, ignored.

"How?" Mike asks.

A grin stretches across Lucas's lips. "I'll show you." Lucas makes a break for the stairs, gesturing for Mike. "Come on,"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Come on," Max says, pulling El and Y/n up to their feet.

"Where are we going?" El asks.

"To have some fun," she answers, pulling them both to the door. "There's more to life than stupid boys, you know."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Mike jumps from the couch and follows Lucas closely on his heels, leaving Will without warning and no time to follow.

"Wait, guys!" He calls, peering over the table and up the stairs where they have already disappeared. "I'm still here!"

The only answer he receives is the muffled sound of the garage door opening and closing upstairs.

"Guys?"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Another plastic spoon dives into the sea of Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream, scooping up a taste for Erica Sinclair. Robin reluctantly hands the spoon over to the young girl who waits eagerly with her posse of friends. She gives the taste a moment of thought before licking her lips and discarding the spoon.

"Hmm, can I try the Peppermint Stick?"

"Haven't you already tried the Peppermint Stick?" Robin asks tiredly.

"Yes, and I'd like to try it again,"

Fighting a losing battle with a sigh, Robin turns to the closed window behind her and gives an exasperated cry.

"Steve?"

On the other side of the window, Dustin is seated at the break table with an open copy of Russian to English translation while Steve paces the floor and eating a banana.

"Поездка в Китай звучит хорошо, если действовать осторожно... Неделя длинная."

"So what do you think?" Dustin asks, pausing the tape he had gotten of the broadcast the previous night.

Steve nodded, shoving another piece of banana in his mouth. "It sounded familiar."

"What?"

"The music," he answers through stuffed cheeks. "That music right there at the end,"

"Why are you listening to the music, Steve?" The boy asks, growing aggravated. "Listen to the Russian! We're translating Russian!"

"I'm TRYing to listen to the Russian—"

-"Alright!—" Robin comes lumbering through the door she had just thrown open.

-"but there's music—"

"—babysitting time is over." She orders, her sudden appearance sending Steve stumbling back in shock. "You need to get out there. Hey, my board!"

Robin gestures angrily to the YOU WIN | YOU SUCK whiteboard that had now been wiped clean and replaced with the Russian to English Alphabet from the book.

"That was important data, shitbirds,"

"I guarantee you what we're doing is way more important than your data," Dustin says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he says, matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, and how do you know these Russians are up to no good, anyways?"

Dustin gapes up at Steve, looking dangerously close to livid. His voice lowers in a not-so-quiet whisper that only entertains Robin more.

"How does she know about the Russians?"

"I don't know!" Steve whines, once again through a mouthful of banana.

"Did you tell her about the Russians?"

"It wasn't me," he says, through puckered lips.

"Hello, I can hear you," Robin says, pulling their shared gaze over to her. "Actually, I can hear everything. You are both extremely loud. You think you have evil Russians plotting against our country on tape, and you're trying to translate but you haven't figured out a single word because you didn't realize the Russians use an entirely different alphabet than we do."

She looks between the two gaping boys and quirked a brow.

"Sound about right?"

Robin knows to take their silence for a yes and grabs for the tape. But Steve is just a bit quicker and swipes it out of her reach.

"Woah, what are you doing?"

"I wanna hear it,"

"-Why?"

"-Why?"

"Cause maybe I can help," Robin shrugs. "I'm fluent in four languages, you know,"

"Russian?" Dustin asks hopefully.

"Ou-yay are-ay umb-day,"

"Whoa-ho-ho-ho!"

"Holy shit!"

"That was Pig Latin, dingus,"

Steve whacks Dustin on the arm, "Idiot!" He hisses.

Robin takes a seat across from the Dingus Duo, lounging back.

"But I can speak Spanish, and French and Italian and I've been in band for twelve years. My ears are little geniuses, trust me,"

Steve gives a nervous laugh, the beginnings of 'I don't know...' dying on his tongue. The shrill cry of the customer bell ringing loudly from out front and Robin jumps in.

"Come on, it's your turn to sling ice cream, my turn to translate. I don't even want credit," She flops over the table, reaching for the tape in Steve's hand. "I'm just bored."

Steve has only a moment to think on it before the sound of the bell returns. Erica wanted more samples. Steve didn't want to go out and work, but he couldn't deny Robin's credentials. And so with a begrudging look, Steve hangs up the tape for a scooper.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The bus doors swing open with a squeak and out spills a small group of mall-goers. In that bunch, is Max, Y/n, and El.

El's jaw goes slack when she takes in the sight of Starcourt Mall.

"So, what do you think?"

It was wonderful. And wonderfully terrifying. It was exciting and new but it was also extremely intimidating. El hadn't seen a building this huge since the lab—apart from Chicago—and as she stood here now under the gaping mouth of the archway she couldn't help but feel like it was ready to swallow her whole, never to be seen again.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Max asks.

"Too many people," El answers sadly. "Not safe,"

Max chuckled. "Seriously?"

"You have superpowers," she whispered excitedly, giving her a nudge. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"I think you just answered your own question," Y/n laughed.

But truthfully, every possibility of disaster popcorning in her brain was lulled to sleep by the idea of sharing a day showing El a well-deserved day out.

And seeing the yearning growing in El's eyes as she gazed upon Starcourt's walls—a look she hadn't seen on the girl since the snowball—was all the persuasion she needed. It was time to make new memories.

The three of them.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Starcourt Mall was brimming with activity that day, most like it had any other since its grand opening. The entrance swallowed whole gaggles of citizens at a time, the outer rims of its halls pumping life all throughout, but none more so than the heart. It was here the neon azure sign bearing its name shone brightly even in the waterfall of sunlight pouring in from the roof of skylights. The yellow and blue hands of the clock telling everyone the warm morning had leaked into a toasty afternoon.

There is joy and plenty of unbridled fun being had by all who attend, and yet they all seem to pale in comparison to the new trio bounding in.

A grinning Max and Y/n have hold of either of El's hands, only releasing when the three of them have reached the very center of the mall. Joy fills their lungs as they watch El, silent and slackjawed as her wide eyes drink up everything around her.

"So," Y/n gave her friend a light nudge, unable to wipe the painful smile off her sore cheeks. "what do you want to do first?"

Max gave another chuckle. "You've never been shopping before, have you?"

El's still shocked face comes to look between her friends, and she shakes her head.

Max and Y/n share an elated look and turn back to El, knowing they were thinking the same thing.

"Well then I guess we're just gonna have to try everything," Max says, spreading their infectious smile to El.

Y/n's eyes widened with delight. "I think I know where to go first,"

Seizing the hands of her best friends, the three of them took off, disappearing into The Gap, unknowingly missing their respective significant others only just.

"I just... I don't understand what we're looking for," Mike sighs, two of his best friends in tow.

"Something pretty and shiny that says 'I'm sorry.'" Lucas said, eyes already scanning the mall for outlets that might cater to their needs.

"What, just something that literally says 'I'm sorry?'"

Will laughed and Lucas threw his hands to his face in agitation.

This wouldn't be easy.

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[cakesunflower]

No Need Convincing Me [Tattoo Artist!Calum AU] Part 4

Summary: Elodie Banks hadn’t expected to get so caught up in her best friend’s tattoo artist. But all it took was one meeting with Calum Hood for Elodie to feel herself drawing towards him and the ink on his skin. Maybe once she was rid of a miserable relationship and the insecurities that came with it, she’d allow herself to realize that Calum was just as wrapped up in her.

A/N: a part of this chapter is pretty self indulgent, if i do say so myself. y’all will know why while reading---keep in mind that i work at Calvin Klein hehe

All Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6

Part 4

“The house feels so empty without you.”

Elodie let out a light laugh at her mother’s words, looking up from her chicken alfredo. When her mom called her up and asked to meet up for lunch, Elodie was more than happy to join her. It had been almost a week since she moved out of her home and into Dominique’s—their, as her best friend corrected—apartment and as someone who had spent her entire life living with her parents, it was something to adjust to. But Elodie would be lying if she said she wasn’t already enjoying living with Dominique.

“You’ll adjust,” Elodie told her as she picked up her glass, sipping at the red wine as her mom let out a scoff.

“A mother never gets used to not being around her child,” her mom said matter-of-factly, though a gentle smile slipped onto her lips. Elodie was an exact copy of her mother’s; from the honey colored hair and button nose and always smiling lips. The only difference between them were her mom’s dark blue eyes, Elodie’s own brown she inherited from her father. In this moment, Mrs. Banks’ eyes were taking in the sight of her daughter, watching her, observing her, before she let out a breath. “But you do seem happy. More so than I’ve seen you in a long time.” With a raise of an eyebrow, she inquired, “Is it because you’re not under our roof or does this have something to do with the end of your relationship with Nathan?”

Despite the fact that her parents were close friends with Nathan’s, Elodie didn’t feel the need to hide the contentment from not being with him from her mom. But that didn’t mean she didn’t feel nervous confiding in her mom about feeling as though she was finally free from being wrapped in Nathan’s unyielding grip. Sugar coating the details would be the way to go in this situation.

“A little bit,” Elodie conceded, licking her lips and tasting the wine. At her mom’s encouraging raise of eyebrows, Elodie continued with a sigh, “I know you love Nathan but I just. . . I couldn’t breathe when I was with him. And I know that probably sounds dramatic, but—”

“It doesn’t sound dramatic, honey,” her mom cut in with a shake of her head and frown knitting together her eyebrows. She folded her arms on the table, the single diamond pendant she loved wearing glinting against her neck. “If I’m being honest, I had a feeling you weren’t too happy with Nathan. You looked. . . Free in London and when we got back you just looked deflated.”

A wry smile quirked at Elodie’s lips. “Like a balloon?” she joked, her mom scoffing out a laugh. Honestly. Nathan just popping her like a balloon wasn’t a far off comparison.

“I hope you don’t feel guilty for breaking up with Nathan,” Mrs. Banks said, raising her eyebrows as a way of trying to get her own thoughts across. “If you weren’t happy with him, then ending that relationship was the best thing for you. I don’t love Nathan nearly as much as I love you. As long as you’re happy, that’s all I care about.”

Elodie had no idea how much she needed to hear that. Sure, her mom didn’t truly know the extent of terrible things Elodie had to listen to that Nathan would throw her way, but Elodie didn’t see any point in divulging that information. It was over. It was done. Elodie had a feeling if she told her mom about it, then she would either confront Nathan or his parents about it, maybe both, or tell Elodie that it happened in the past and there was no point in bringing it up now. Elodie couldn’t be quite sure what the reaction would be to the truth, and she wasn’t entirely sure which would be worse.

Her grip on the fork tightened. She kind of hated that she second guessed everything because of Nathan.

As she and her mother waited for the waiter to bring by the check, Elodie’s phone buzzed with the text, and she fought the smile from tilting at her lips when she saw Calum’s name.

Calum 2:03PM

Just a heads up—I might kill Dom for inviting me to this thing her parents are throwing.

—

Elodie 2:03PM

Do you at least have a reason for your murderous intent?

—

Calum 2:04PM

Dunno who she thinks she is assuming I’ve got any suit other than my Halloween one lying around. And I hate the mall.

—

Elodie 2:05PM

You just need a good guide. I’m more than happy to offer my services :-)

—

Calum 2:05PM

Where are you? I’ll pick you up.

After her mom slid into the back of her car and left with a hug and a kiss to Elodie, she walked over to where her own car was parked and waved her hand at Flynn, her driver, to keep him from getting out of the car. He shot her a quizzical look as she got to the driver’s side and he lowered the window. “All good, Ms. Banks?”

“Yeah,” Elodie nodded, hugging her denim jacket closer to her body. It was particularly chilly today. “I have a friend coming to pick me up, so you don’t have to stick around. I’m good for the day.”

Flynn nodded, offering her a kind smile. “Whatever you say, Ms. Banks. Have a good day—call if your plans change.”

She waved him off, watching as the town car drove off, and Elodie stepped back towards the restaurant and leaned against the wall as she waited for Calum to arrive. Arms crossed over her chest, Elodie let out a breath as she watched the cars drive by in the seat in front of her. Her cheeks felt warm, the glass of wine she had with her lunch being the cause of it, but the flips of her stomach definitely were because of the fact that she was about to hang out with Calum—go shopping with him. Elodie would be embarrassed by her bold behavior of inviting herself along if it weren’t for Calum instantly telling her he’d pick her up.

Elodie found herself thanking Dominique’s parents for throwing whatever gala they were hosting—at this point, Elodie just went to these parties without much thought over what they were for. And she was also grateful for Dominique inviting Calum and everyone else. Elodie couldn’t help but think it would be refreshing to have them there among the usual faces she saw at these kinds of events.

She pushed aside the thought of Nathan being in attendance.

And it wasn’t hard, when a black Range Rover pulled up in front of her, her heart jumping at Calum holding his hand up in a greeting wave from the driver’s seat. She took a breath as she walked around towards the passenger door, feeling her smile return when Calum leaned over to the center console to open the door for her, the gesture a bit too sweet for her to handle.

“I appreciate you helpin’ out a lost cause,” Calum chuckled as Elodie settled, strapping in her seatbelt as Calum began driving once more. The car smelt like the citrus freshener dangling from the rearview mirror alongside an Evil Eye pendant, as well as the ever so familiar scent of Calum’s cologne.

Elodie shot him a quick smile, trying not to focus too hard on the leather jacket and black cargo pants he somehow made work. “No, I’m more than happy to,” she told him, leaning back into the seat as her gaze dropped for a moment, eyebrows raising at the familiar small box sitting in the small compartment under the stereo system. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

She noted Calum glance at her before looking down at the package and then returning his gaze out to the road. “Only when I’m stressed,” he told her as the song playing through the car changed into one by Coldplay. Elodie had a feeling the playlist in the tattoo shop was one of Calum’s making. She wondered if she imagined a nervous tinge creep into his voice when he added, “’M sorry if it smells—”

“No, no,” Elodie interrupted, not wanting him to think she had some kind of issue, and she didn’t want to insult him, either. “My dad smokes, so I’m used to the smell.” With an embarrassed chuckle, she added, “I kind of like it, actually.”

At that, Calum let out a laugh, the sound raspy and breathy and a bit too adorable for Elodie to handle. “Really?” he questioned, the amusement apparent in his tone.

Elodie waved him off, feeling her own grin pull at her lips as Calum made a right turn, one hand on the wheel while the other rested on windowsill. She tried not to stare. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s strange. Don’t judge.”

Calum snorted, throwing a glance her way. “You’re helping me with this suit shit. No judgement here, doll.”

If the shopping trip consisted of him dropping any more cute little terms on her, Elodie wasn’t entirely sure she’d be able to make it.

When they arrived at the mall, Elodie’s eyes took in the various store fronts as she asked Calum, “Is there a specific store you wanna check out?”

“Um, honestly,” Calum sounded, looking lost in thought for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and glancing down at her. “I think I’ve got the shoes and shirt part covered—I just need, like, a suit jacket and pants to go with ’em. ’M not picky; something nice and not flashy that I can wear again for some other occasion, I guess.”

Elodie hummed in acknowledgement, trying to think of the many stores she knew to be in this particular mall. “What about Calvin Klein? They’ve got some cool stuff.” She also kind of wanted to check out their new sweaters. And needed underwear—though Elodie doubted she was gonna buy some right now.

Calum puckered his lips and put up his hands with a shake of his head. “Hey, I’m followin’ your lead, El.”

She decided she liked the sound of him saying her nickname.

They entered the store, the music mixing in with the chatter of customers, and Elodie’s gaze instantly drew over to the suits, and before she could think twice, her hand grasped Calum’s and she was pulling him along. Elodie didn’t allow herself to think of her bold move, instead absently admired the warmth of his touch and the coolness of the few rings he wore as they weaved past people and tables and displays.

There was an entire section dedicated to dress shirts, suit jackets, and different styles of pants to go with them. Elodie glanced at Calum, watching him look up at the jackets hanging up higher than she could reach, and asked him, “What color were you thinking?”

Calum let out a scoff of a laugh, raising a single eyebrow at her. Elodie admired how much taller he was than her, almost an entire foot. “I only have two dress shirts, sweetheart. A black and a white one. Whatever will go with either.”

The suit options the store had were black, navy blue, and grey, and Elodie pulled her lower lip into her mouth as an image of Calum in a particularly colored ensemble flashed through her mind. Would it be self indulgent to pick out an outfit for him that she would like to see him in? “I think a black suit would be best,” Elodie told him, listening to the thoughts running around in her head. When Calum’s dark eyes met hers, she added quickly, “It goes with everything and I think it’d be pretty on brand for you.”

At that, Calum laughed with a raise of his eyebrows, the amusement glimmering in his eyes as Elodie mirrored his smile. The sight of the crinkles by his eyes had her heart jumping. “On brand?” he repeated with an all too knowing smirk.

Elodie’s cheeks flamed, breaking their gaze as she tucked some of her hair behind her ears. “You know what I mean,” she mumbled before clearing her throat. “Suit jackets shouldn’t be hard to pick—pants are the main thing.”

Calum sucked at his tongue, turning his head to look at where the various styles of pants were hanging in divided sections. Elodie followed him as his fingers danced across the tops of the hanging pants, gesturing to one of the sections and glancing at her questioningly, “What ’bout these?” She moved around him, looking at the labels on the pants before twisting her lips to the side. Her gaze lifted to look at him, her expression one of hesitance that had Calum’s shoulders dropping and asking defeatedly, “What?”

“These are classic fits,” she told him with a gentle laugh, hand finding his leather clad bicep almost automatically as she steered him over to the pants to their left. “You wanna go for slim fit. They’re more fitting and better for suits.” Calum rolled his eyes with a huff, though there was no real annoyance present as he gave a shake of his head with pursed lips. When his lips quirked ever so slightly, Elodie knew he wasn’t really bothered by her words. Though, she was bothered that she needed the reassurance, thanks to Nathan. She pushed thoughts of him out of her head as she asked Calum, “Do you know your pants measurements?”

Calum hummed, stepping forward as he looked at the numbers on the labels. “Yeah, I know my waist,” he told her as he sifted through them. “Length always comes up differently.”

Elodie waved him off. “Just grab whichever ones you think are closest. Try as many on, we can figure it out.”

She watched as Calum looked through the pants, and she took that moment to look at the suit jackets. Fortunately, the tags with the sizes were attached to the sleeve, dangling from the material, and so Elodie looked through them trying to figure out which size would best fit Calum. He had broad shoulders and muscular arms—she looked at the tags towards the end where the few larger sizes were.

“Alright, I guess I’ll try these on.” Elodie turned around to see Calum holding three pairs of pants, all carefully hanging from their hangers.

She hummed in approval before nodded towards the jackets. “Which do you think will fit you best?”

Calum blew a raspberry as his dark eyes flickered up to them, prompting Elodie to laugh gently as he pursed his lips thoughtfully. He looked at the tags before nodding. “I can try those two on—they’ll probably fit best.”

He looked at her then and Elodie recognized the expectant expression he wore, before she let out a laugh with a raise of her eyebrows. Her voice still soft, as always, she asked, “You think I can reach up there?”

Calum’s dark eyes flickered between her and the hanging suit jackets, before realization softened his features and Calum snorted. “Right,” he laughed before offering her the pants.

She took them from him and took a step to the side, eyes watching as Calum easily reached up and hooked two hangers between his fingers and pulled them off the rod. Elodie felt her throat tighten as she drank in the sight of the expanse of his neck, the chains peeking out from under his clothes, as well as the sharp line of his jaw. Not for the first time, Elodie found herself admiring just how gorgeous he was.

When he retrieved the jackets, the two of them walked through the store towards the fitting room hallway, where one of the associates unlocked a room for Calum. He hung the jackets on one of the hooks and Elodie stood in the doorway, holding out the pants for him. As he put them down on the little bench and stood straight, Calum raised an eyebrow at her. Elodie could tell he was fighting a smirk as he asked, “Want me to do a fashion show for you?”

Elodie smiled, crossing her arms over her chest as the associate opened another room for someone else. “It’s the only reason why I’m here.”

Calum scoffed and Elodie took a step back as he closed the door. She leaned against the opposite wall, gaze dropping to where she could see Calum’s feet under the door, watching as he took off his Doc Martens and pushed them to the side. Elodie busied herself on her phone then after pulling a thread out of her floral denim jacket, trying not to think too much of the man behind the door, until it swung open a few moments later.

When she looked up, she couldn’t stop the short giggle from escaping her, fingers coming up to worry her lips as she looked at Calum—and at his bemused expression. “I’m gonna go with a no on these ones,” he deadpanned, head dropping to look at the way the pants went to his feet. They were too long.

“No, no, I think those are perfect,” Elodie teased, feeling a bit lighter in his company. He still tickled her stomach, made her skin flush excitedly, but despite all of that, every moment which past that she spent in Calum’s company, she grew more and more comfortable. And it didn’t scare her or make her anxious—it made her excited and nervous, but in the good way. In a way she didn’t mind feeling again and again when it came to him.

“Fuckin’ hilarious,” Calum grumbled, looking down and kicking at his feet almost childishly, which only widened Elodie’s grin. She had to admit—even though the pants were a bit too long, the sight of Calum in dress pants with an emerald green shirt and leather jacket was pretty.

Elodie grinned, tilting her head charmingly. Where this rush of confidence was coming from, she wasn’t sure. But Elodie wasn’t going to lie—she’d never felt more like herself. “I know.”

Calum shot her a mocking, derisive close mouthed smile, complete with narrowed eyes and pushed up cheeks before he shut the door once more, the action followed by Elodie’s giggles. She waited for him for a while, watching as customers came and went in and out of the fitting room, and the longer she waited, the more furrowed her eyebrows got.

She took the few steps towards the door, arms crossed and head ducked to listen after she asked, “Calum? Everything okay?”

The response came in form of the door opening, and Elodie looked up to see Calum standing there in a new pair of pants and one of the suit jackets. Her brown eyed gaze took in the sight of him, in his socks and dress pants and green shirt and suit jacket, and felt her heart jump into her throat. It was unfair how he made the outfit work. Maybe he should just wear that to Dominique’s parents’ party.

Calum held his left hand out as a show of displaying himself, the other one holding the door because it would otherwise close on them. “So?” he asked, glancing down at himself. “These fit pretty well. What d’you think?”

Elodie used the excuse to take in the sight of him, approaching him slowly and without much thought. Calum was right—they did fit him pretty well. The black suit jacket hugged his arms and spread over his shoulders nicely, and the black pants hugged his thighs snugly and comfortably as well. He had tucked in his shirt into the pants and Elodie fought herself from biting the inside of her cheek because it looked good.

“Yeah, they do,” she said truthfully, her gaze lifting to meet his eyes as she found herself in the room. Calum’s gaze never left hers. As she gestured to him subtly, she asked quietly, “You mind if I—”

He didn’t let her finish, giving a shake of his head with his raised eyebrows. “Not at all.”

Elodie flashed him a quick, nervous smile, highly aware of his burning gaze on her as she stepped towards him. The scent of his cologne was ever present and subtle as her nimble fingers fastened one of the two buttons on the jacket, hands automatically going to smooth the material against him without much thought. Her gaze was on the jacket, feeling her throat working because of their proximity like it always seemed to do, and Elodie was aware of the music playing in the store gradually fading out as the drum of her heart grew more prominent with each passing second.

“There,” she said, voice coming out as a whisper as she briefly pressed her lips together. The button was glimmering under the lights of the fitting room. Elodie smiled, not yet meeting his gaze as she spoke softly, “You look good in a suit.”

The compliment slipped out without much thought, flamed her cheeks, but it was an honest one. Sure, he was still in socks and a T-shirt with no tie, but Calum still looked undeniably good. Honestly, if he showed up like this to the party, Elodie wouldn’t mind at all.

She felt him move a bit as he scoffed lightly, hearing the smirk in his voice as he replied, “Just wait until I’m in the entire monkey suit.”

Elodie picked an invisible piece of lint off the jacket. She had a feeling if she looked Calum in the eyes, she wouldn’t be able to keep herself standing. But that didn’t stop the words from tumbling out of her lips, as if she suddenly had no filter. “You’ll blow everyone away.”

She heard and felt the slow breath Calum released, the sound soft and quiet, just like his raspy voice as he said, “There’s only one person ’m tryin’ to impress.”

His words effortlessly lifted Elodie’s gaze, her brown eyes widened a bit because of the unexpected statement, while Calum looked completely at ease with his warm eyes watching. But Elodie picked up on the slight hesitance within his irises, like he wasn’t sure if his confession was welcome, and all Elodie could bring herself to do was stare at him. Because what if she was misinterpreting what he was saying? What if she was reading into something that wasn’t meant for her?

God, she needed to stop doubting herself.

They were silent, only the music from the store and vague sound of people chatting infiltrating their space, except Elodie couldn’t bring herself to care about anything other than the man she was standing in front of. Calum was looking down at her, taking in her doe eyes and stilled breath, and Elodie’s skin was flushed pink as she ended up stammering out, “Really?”

He smiled, soft and sweet and completely stealing Elodie’s breath as he sucked in his lower lip briefly before confirming, “Yeah.” Calum tilted his head ever so slightly, gaze running over her in admiration, in a way no one has really looked at her before. A slow breath escaped him, almost as if he was holding something back, confirming so when his voice dropped an octave as he said, “And ’m tryin’ real hard to be a gentleman and not kiss you.”

“Don’t.” The word escaped Elodie before she could help it, a rushed and desperate whisper as she looked at him. When she saw something flash in Calum’s eyes, Elodie swallowed the excited lump in her throat, the fire bubbling in her veins, silencing the demonizing thoughts in the back of her head that sounded a bit too much like her ex as she expressed, “Don’t be a gentleman.”

Calum’s jaw tightened ever so slightly at Elodie’s words, watching her, studying her, as Elodie found the confidence to keep her gaze level with him. Her heart was pounding in her ears, drowning out the sounds of anything else, as she waited. There was no room for doubt, not when Calum had said what he said, but Elodie felt her nerves jittering with excitement, with impatience, wondering if he was going to listen to her. Wondering how the hell they got to this point, but not at all questioning it because she wanted this. And she deserved giving herself what she wanted every now and then, didn’t she?

There was a change in Calum’s expression when he realized Elodie meant what she said, blinking once to allow for the softness of his features to set as his lips parted ever so slightly. They stared at each other for what seemed like a stretch of minutes, brown against brown, and there was a subtle movement on Calum’s part as he allowed for his arm to drop, the action followed almost immediately by the sound of the fitting room door shutting behind Elodie. Now it was just the two of them in the small space of the fitting room, secluded from the rest of the store, and the fluttering in the pit of Elodie’s stomach intensified as Calum took the smallest of steps towards her, which was all that was needed.

This was happening. This was really happening. Elodie found herself tilting her chin up slightly, wanting to do something to get to the point where she wanted to be, breath hitching in her throat when Calum’s hands lifted to cup her cheeks. His touch was warm, rings cool, fingers tangling a bit into her hair, and Elodie had never felt such a fire simmering in her veins than she did in the moment of when Calum tilted her head up a bit and his thumbs gently grazed her skin.

His touch was so soft, holding her carefully, and Elodie watched as Calum’s gaze dropped to her lips softened with pink lipstick. Her heart thundering, Elodie watched Calum’s throat work briefly before he was leaning down and Elodie’s eyes fluttered shut as his lips pressed against hers in the softest kiss Elodie had ever experienced. His lips were plush against hers and it was enough for a jolt of electricity to shock through Elodie’s body, feeling her entire body yearning to melt into Calum’s immediately.

But the two of them pulled away too soon, except that it wasn’t the end of the kiss. Calum’s hands remained cupping Elodie’s face, noses tucked together and their breaths sounding over the music and their pounding hearts as if they’d just ran a marathon. Their eyes opened together, though both of their gazes dropped to the lips they’d just touched before looking at one another at the last second.

Elodie met his gaze through her eyelashes, his dark eyes sending a thrill down her spine, noting the question swimming in them. Noting that he so badly wanted to do it again, but was looking for her approval. God. That was hot.

She tilted her lips forward, giving him her answer.

Calum’s lips met hers once more, though this time more firmly, more boldly as he sucked at her lower lip, and Elodie was opening her mouth to him almost immediately. He tasted like mint gum as she felt his tongue tease hers, and the sensation of his scruff tickling against her skin only had Elodie melting into Calum, wanting to completely submit herself to him as her arms slid around him, feeding the desire of wanting him close.

His warmth seeped into her wonderfully as he kissed her, the electricity sparking her blood like fuel to a fire as Calum moved them so Elodie’s back was pressed against the wall and her front against Calum’s as his lips continued to work against hers. She felt his hands lower from her cheeks, palms brushing the sides of her neck as his thumbs grazed the line of her jaw on either side. He kissed her feverishly and Elodie was consumed by him; by his touch and lips and his cologne enveloping her as warmly as he did. Kissing him was everything she thought it’d be and more; he kissed her like he meant it, like he enjoyed it, like this was all he wanted to do. She hoped he knew it was mutual.

The sound of a phone ringing in proximity had their kiss breaking far earlier than either one of them would’ve liked, breaths heavy as Elodie leaned her head back and watched as Calum’s head dropped as a frustrated huff escaped him. It was his phone.

Elodie wondered if her face looked as red as it felt warm, felt her lips tingling as Calum dropped one hand from her to reach for his phone sitting on top of his clothes on the little bench, his other hand still on the side of her neck. She wondered if he could feel her racing pulse beneath his fingers.

Calum’s dark eyes met Elodie’s, the breath she’d barely gotten ahold of hitching in her throat when she noted his lips pinkened with their kisses and her lipstick. Her stomach was in excited knots. “Yeah, Luke?” he answered the call, his voice gruff and raspy and sexy. She kept her eyes on him, felt the smile tug on the corner of her lips when Calum’s thumb brushed along her jaw once more. His touch was a never ending thrill of shocks running through her body. Calum gave a roll of his eyes at whatever Luke was saying on the other end, mocking him to get a gentle giggle out of Elodie. “Yeah, I’ll be back in about twenty.”

When he hung up with an almost defeated sigh, dropping his phone back on the pile of his pants and leather jacket, Elodie allowed for her smile to widen just a bit. “Back to the shop?” she asked knowingly.

“Yeah,” Calum sighed, the corner of his lips tilting ever so slightly in a smirk when his thumb not so innocently grazed along her lower lip and Elodie’s throat worked at the action. It sent a shiver down her spine, unsurprisingly. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, “Wanna come by? If you don’t already have plans.”

His thumb gently pulled at her lower lip and Elodie was going to need him to stop doing that unless he wanted her to collapse on unsupportive knees. The way he was watching her wasn’t helping, either. “I’ve got no plans.”

Calum grinned, pretty and breathless, and for the next few minutes he changed back into his clothes while Elodie wandered into the main area of the store, heart rate slowly returning to normal and the flush in her cheeks dissipating as she walked over to the women’s section and picked up two pairs of different colored sweatpants in her size. She shopped at Calvin Klein enough to know what size fit her best.

When Calum wandered out of the fitting room, holding only the pants and jacket he wanted, the two of them stood in the short line in a mutual and comfortable silence until it was their turn. And once Elodie placed her sweatpants down on the counter after returning the cashier’s greeting, she promptly picked up Calum’s clothes from his arms and placed them down as well. “Hey—what’re you doing?” he asked in bewilderment, stepping up to push his things away from hers.

Elodie swatted his hands away, noting the amused smile on the cashier’s face as Elodie told him, “I’ve got this.” Looking at the cashier, she told her, “These are all together.”

“Elodie,” Calum spoke up, the protest obvious in his tone as she looked up at him. She saw the frown knitting together his eyebrows as the cashier rung up the sweatpants and then his items, which were obviously more expensive. Calum gave a shake of his head as the total came up to nearly three hundred dollars with the four items together.

Before he could add on, Elodie cut him off with a pointed raise of her eyebrows, pulling out the credit card from her wallet while her free hand grasped Calum’s wrist, feeling the metal of his bracelet under her touch. His eyes met hers and she smiled, sweet and genuine. “Let me do something nice for you.”

The words were obviously familiar as they clicked in Calum’s head as the ones he’d said to her after he pierced her nose, and Calum let out a scoff of a laugh as he shook his head down at her. Elodie noted the amusement mixed with exasperation in his expression as he braced his hand on the counter to face her. “The piercing was, like, a sixth of what you’re tryin’ to pay.”

Elodie shrugged, putting the chip end of her credit card into the reader and ignoring the breathless protesting sounds of “El, come on—” that escaped Calum.

It was paid for and Elodie was handed a bag with her sweatpants while Calum’s suit jacket and pants were hung up and put in a proper garment bag before handing it over to a reluctant Calum. “Thank you,” Elodie smiled at the cashier before the two of them walked out of the store and into the mall, glancing up to look at Calum. A startled laugh escaped her, surprising them both, as she took in the sight of him, amusement coloring her tone as she asked, “Are you pouting?”

Calum instantly flattened his lips, chin lifting as they kept walking towards the mall entrance they’d come from. “No,” he denied almost childishly, which only prompted another laugh from Elodie. He was totally pouting and Elodie found it exhaustingly adorable.

But then as they got into his car, a thought crept into Elodie’s head, as loud as the sound of the car door shutting and echoing in the parking garage. Elodie felt her chest tighten as she settled into the car and strapped in her seatbelt, eyebrows furrowing as she looked towards her knees because the thought in her head, belonging to a voice not her own, wondered fiercely and loudly if she somehow. . . Insulted Calum.

Nathan—he hated whenever Elodie offered to pay for something when they were out. And she knew it was because of that superiority complex and that control he liked to have over Elodie, and her paying for something for both of them definitely stung his manhood. Even if that wasn’t Elodie’s intention—God, she’d only wanted to do something nice. Her stomach twisted, briefly wondering if her paying for the clothes rubbed Calum the wrong way, even if she tried to silence that twisted voice in her head with the reminder that Calum wasn’t Nathan.

Her throat was tight, but the words slipped past her lips anyway. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

Calum had started the car, the engine of the Range Rover humming quietly, and instead of pulling out of the parking spot he paused. Elodie could feel her gaze on him, feeling the heat of it on her cheek as he asked, “What?”

The sound of her nails clicking filled the car, and Elodie wished she could stop the action right away, but she bit the inside of her lower lip as she watched her deep red nails click together and spoke, “If I crossed a line. . . I’m sorry.”

“What’re you—El, hey.” Calum shifted in his seat, body facing Elodie’s as his hand covered both of hers, effectively stopping her clicking nails. She sucked in her lower lip, gaze on his hand on hers, before finally looking at him despite being hesitant to do so. His dark eyes were on her, eyebrows knitting together not in annoyance, but in reassurance, features soft. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her, but there was a flash of realization across his face as he leaned towards her, raising his eyebrows. “That voice in the back of your head that sounds like Nathan? Tell it to shut up.”

Her eyes widened, gaping at him in dumbfoundment because apparently Calum could read her frighteningly well. Elodie’s lips parted, ready to say something her brain hadn’t come up with yet, before pressing them together once more and swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. The fact that Calum just knew the insecurities taunting Elodie in her head sounded like her ex had her heart jumping, but she also felt a familiar warmth flurry in her stomach. The look in his eyes, inviting and understanding, easily erased the doubt that had sprouted in Elodie’s head, loudly telling her that he wasn’t at all feeling the way she had feared.

Elodie pulled her lips into her mouth before exhaling softly, gaze dropping in sheepishness as she mumbled, “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, doll.” Elodie pressed her lips together, quirking them up in an apologetic smile which had Calum letting out a small huff of laughter. His eyes watched her, took her in, before speaking up, “Wanna know something?” Her eyebrows quirked ever so slightly, silently prompting him to continue. Calum leaned in even loser, the gap between them minimal as Elodie kept her eyes on his, and Calum tilted his head ever so slightly, causing his nose to brush against hers. “You don’t ever have to doubt yourself with me, alright?”

Her heart was practically floating in her chest at Calum’s words, the heat rushing up her neck and spreading across her cheeks. He somehow knew the right things to say, and he meant them when he said them, which only had Elodie falling for him more quickly. And she didn’t mind, because he was not Nathan. Calum was better.

“Alright,” she repeated in a murmur, smiling adorably, before feeling that gentle confidence came back and she asked, “Can you kiss me again?”

Calum grinned, not even being able to hold the smirk as her request excited him unexpectedly, and merely hummed in affirmative before closing the distance between them and pressing his lips to hers. The electricity crackled between them in the closed space of the car as Calum’s free hand cupped her cheek. She liked that he did that when he kissed her. She liked his kisses. God, she liked him.

And the way he kissed her, unabated and like he never wanted to do anything else, let her know it was completely mutual.

*****

When Calum slid into limousine—an actual stretch limo that pulled up in front of his apartment building—the first and only thing he noticed was Elodie amongst his friends. Her coat covered the top of her dress, but Calum noted, in the blue light of the limo, that it was a deep emerald color, the expanse of her right leg shown through a slit, and he felt his throat tighten as he settled against the leather seat.

So Calum nudged Michael, who was sat between Calum and Crystal. But both Michael and his girl were separating Calum from Elodie, so he looked at his friend and said, “Switch.”

Elodie couldn’t fight the smile as Michael blinked at Calum before realization dawned on him, snickering as he got up, figure bent because they were in the back of a limo. He settled in Calum’s space once he had gotten up as well, and Crystal scooted away from Elodie and towards Michael as Calum finally settled into Crystal’s place. He ignored the immature and teasing whistles and whoots from their friends as his left arm dropped around Elodie’s shoulders, pulling her into his side and murmuring into her ear, “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi,” she returned, just as gently, quelling the fire in her cheeks as she saw the smirk Dominique sent her way. Elodie allowed her hand to brush along his thigh, taking a soft breath as she glanced up at him, “The suit looks good on you.”

He smirked, looking down at himself briefly. He’d gone for the all black look, borrowing a tie from Ashton and bringing out one of the two pairs of dress shoes he had. The last time he’d worn them were to his sister’s college graduation, Calum was glad they still fit and looked new. “I had a lot of help,” he told her as the sounds of their friends chattering mixed with the music playing. Apparently Luke had the aux cord that the driver offered them. Calum’s own gaze dropped to Elodie’s dress, fighting the urge to run a hand along the exposed skin of her leg, instead using his free hand to run a finger along the dress. He smiled at the soft and smooth material. “Velvet, huh?”

She smiled, innocent but not at all, and Calum couldn’t help but think she would be the death of him.

They arrived to the hotel where Dominique’s parents were hosting their event, a party thrown just to prepare for the holiday season coming up even though November just started, and Calum eyed the paparazzi gathered outside, taking pictures of the guests arriving and heading inside. An attendant opened the door and Michael stepped out, and Calum knew he had to keep it moving as he followed Crystal. The paparazzi wasn’t too loud, though their cameras continued flashing as Calum fastened a single button on his jacket and held his hand out to Elodie, who stepped out of the car with her bare leg flashing gorgeously before she ducked out of the car, a smile lighting up her face as she looked up at Calum.

“A lot of photographers,” he observed, not distastefully, as her arm linked with his so naturally, so unafraid of the pictures being taken. Not that Calum was afraid of them—he just couldn’t help but wonder how Elodie and Dominique could be used to this. He would get dizzy after just seconds against the flashes.

Elodie rubbed at his arm as they walked, her voice gentle as she said, “We’ll be inside in a second.”

As they walked up the steps and entered the hotel, doors opened by the doormen, Luke let out a small huff of laughter and murmured to Calum, “Nothing like being in the city’s elite entourage, huh?”

Calum chuckled at that as he gave an agreeing shake of his head. If he was being honest, he sometimes forgot both Elodie’s and Dominique’s families belonged to the richer side of the city, mostly because neither of them truly acted like it. They sometimes dressed the part, but other than that, it was a fact of their lives that Calum often forgot. Except when Elodie bought him the suit he was now wearing and he accidentally made her feel guilty about it. For that moment, he kind of hated himself for making her feel that way.

Before they entered the hall where the event was taking place, they went to the coat check so the girls could take off their jackets, and Calum felt his breath hitch in his throat as Elodie shrugged hers off. Her dress was spaghetti strapped with a deep yet elegant cut, and the velvet dress hugged her beautifully. How he was supposed to keep his hands off of her throughout this party, Calum had no idea.

As she tucked in her little ticket into her purse, Calum stepped up to her, his front against her back, ducking his head to brush his lips against her ear as he whispered, “You’re killing me, doll.”

Elodie let out a breathless, almost sheepish laugh as she looked up at him with glimmering eyes, and Calum had a feeling she knew exactly what she was doing. He fucking adored how some of her innocence seemed to slip away when it came to him. Calum watched as her brown eyes took him in, from his shoes right up to his eyes, and he felt his chest tighten to see her so openly admiring him. “Now you know how I feel,” she hummed before Dominique ushered for them keep moving.

Calum let out a laugh as he followed her, eyes taking her in appreciatively, admiring every single aspect of her. She was gorgeous and Calum had no idea what to do with himself.

But about an hour and a half later, after Calum and everyone else were introduced to Dominique’s parents—apparently Elodie’s were out of town, though she had made sure to let Dominique’s parents know they send their love, to which Dominique’s mom laughed and said she knew given that she was on the phone with Elodie’s mom just hours before—Calum could feel a heated gaze on him, one he hadn’t been able to shake off as he took in his surroundings.

The hall was decorated in white and reds and greens, a band playing Christmas songs on stage and several beautifully decorated Christmas trees were placed around the room. One of those walk-in cloud-like photo booths was in one corner, and in another was an area to take pictures with Santa, probably for the kids Calum saw running around. He bet Dominique’s parents would regret bringing along Santa when someone who’d sipped too much eggnog happened to fall into his lap.

Calum sipped on his whiskey, grabbing it from the bar as opposed to the champagne being carried around by the waitstaff, dark eyes looking over the rim of the glass and catching sight of the guy towards the other side of the banquet hall. So far, Calum had been perfectly fine at this event, sipping his drink and mostly sticking with the boys and Sierra and Crystal. They didn’t feel out of place, enjoying each other’s company and the drinks, while Dominique and Elodie did their rounds to greet people they knew—alongside Ashton, who was dragged by Dominique. Calum had smirked into the glass at Ashton’s mildly bewildered gaze. He’d been boyfriended.

About damn time.

“Is that Elodie’s ex that keeps staring at you like he wants to spit in your drink?” Calum looked at Crystal, who was raising her eyebrows and looking past Calum’s shoulders.

Calum lowered his glass and the group of them looking over, and he felt his teeth automatically grind together at the sight of Nathan. He stood by a table with a bunch of people, nursing his own drink, and staring at Calum with a look dangerous enough to kill—it barely tickled Calum. So he just stood, taking another long sip of his burning whiskey as his eyes locked with Nathan’s. His glare intensified, and all Calum did was eye him coolly despite his own irritation brimming.

“Yeah,” Calum turned to look back at his friends, their gaze shifting back to him as he smirked. With a single shrug, Calum mused, “It’s cute that he thinks he’s being intimidating.”

Michael snorted, one arm around Crystal as he told Calum boredly, “You should’ve broken his arm when you had the chance.”

Crystal swatted at him, though no real malice or disapproval was present, as the rest of them laughed and Calum sucked at his teeth. “Not in front of Elodie,” was all he said, and it was reason enough. Sure, after what he saw Nathan do and say, Calum had no problem setting him straight. But doing so in front of Elodie wasn’t at all on his agenda. Calum wasn’t a violent person, but Nathan was lucky as hell Calum didn’t make good on his promise of breaking his arm.

“I heard my name.” The smile tugged at Calum’s lips as Elodie stepped up to his left, Dominique and Ashton also stepping into their little circle as he looked down to see Elodie.

She smelt like expensive perfume, fruity and pleasant, and Calum reveled in the feeling of her fingers intertwining with his, their joined hands hanging between their bodies as she smiled up at him. “Just wonderin’ where you ran off to,” he told her, not wanting to unnecessarily bring up Nathan.

Elodie let out a breath as their friends dissolved into conversations of their own. Her gaze dropped briefly, the pretty fake eyelashes she wore only accentuating her eyes as she looked up at him again. “I’m sorry about that—as the only one from my family I have to, like, make my rounds and greet everyone. So boring.”

“Don’t apologize,” Calum told her, a smile tugging at his lips as he said, “You were like a social butterfly. ’T was cute.”

“It’s boring,” Elodie repeated with an airy laugh, leaning her temple against Calum’s arm as the rings they both wore gently scraped together in their joined hands. The smile remained on Calum’s face as he looked down at her as she listened to whatever their friends were talking about. It comforted him to know how comfortable she was becoming in his presence.

It had been a few days since they kissed in that dressing room, and between now and then, the two of them hung out a couple of times. Whether it be Elodie dropping by the shop after classes or Calum visiting her apartment, they enjoyed each other’s company. He watched as she became more and more at ease with him, and Calum never wanted her to feel anything but that. If Nathan treated her worse than what Calum had witnessed, Calum wanted her to know what it was like to be looked at, to be spoken to, and to be treated by someone who truly appreciated her, liked her, wanted her. Who would never even think of speaking to her the way Nathan did.

So Calum kept her attention whenever he could as the group of them sat down at a table with their drinks, all of them chattering and taking pictures and enjoying the party Dominique’s parents were hosting. They even walked by the table at one point to talk with Calum and all the friends their daughter brought by they weren’t familiar with, and Calum liked them. They seemed like nice people—not that he assumed otherwise. Rich people only caring for their fellow elites and looking down at others wasn’t a kind of group Dominique and Elodie belonged in, in Calum’s opinion.

Eventually, they found themselves in the photo booth, taking turns in taking couples pictures and groups pictures, sifting through the table of props. When Sierra and Luke were about to finish their pictures, Calum and Elodie looked through the props to see what to pick up. “Oh, here,” Calum smirked, picking up the arrow sign that said naughty and handing it to Elodie while picking up the nice one for himself.

Elodie laughed, holding it by the stick before picking up the Santa hat and handing it him. “Wear this,” she said while picking up the reindeer headband and putting it on, and Calum snickered while doing as he was told. Her adorable grin was worth it.

They stepped into the booth and as the timer went down after Elodie clicked on it, Calum pulled her to his side and the two of them held up their signs, making sure their own pointed at one another’s, an angelic grin on Elodie’s face while Calum wore a smirk, chin tilting as he looked into the camera. Briefly, he admired how she only just reached his shoulder even in her heels.

Calum couldn’t remember the last time he took photo booth pictures—maybe it was when he’d gone to Six Flags with the boys and they all crammed themselves in a much smaller space—but he found himself enjoying doing this with Elodie, especially because she was so into it. They changed poses for the second picture, dropping the signs on the floor as Calum pulled her in front of him, her back against his chest, his arms wrapping around her waist as he rested his chin on top of her head, his face in the space between her reindeer antlers that only made her laugh in the picture while he grinned.

The last picture consisted of Calum pulling out a prop he had swiped from the table at the last minute, Elodie’s eyes catching sight of the fake mistletoe hanging loosely from the top of a stick. “Smooth,” she commented, her grin wide as Calum held it above their heads.

The mischievous look glimmered Calum’s eyes, wiggling his eyebrows down at her and adoring the pink flush in her cheeks, and Elodie gave an amused shake of her head before her hand rested on the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss. Calum returned the kiss just as fervently, unable to fight the smile that slipped to his lips as his free hand wrapped around her waist and held her close. She tasted like the champaign, and he knew he tasted like whiskey, but neither cared as their lips moved together and eventually the familiar sound of the camera shutter went off.

“Come on,” Elodie giggled against his lips, her hands gripping the lapels of his jacket and trying to pull away. She wasn’t very convincing of it. “Let’s see our pictures.”

Calum groaned lightly, not even bothering to hide the pout on his lips as Elodie pulled away from him, head tilting back as her hand grasped his free one and he turned to follow her out after they picked up the dropped signs. Once they stepped out, taking off their head gear, Elodie took the two strips of pictures from the photo booth runner’s hand and just as she was about to hand one to Calum, it was snatched out of her hand.

Calum’s jaw tightened when he looked from the offending hand to take in the sight of Nathan in his clean cut dark grey suit. Elodie tensed next to him as Calum muttered, “For fuck’s sake.”

“Aren’t you two a happy couple?” Nathan derisively mocked, raising his eyebrows at the photo strip before scoffing and lifting his gaze. He ignored Calum and the severity of his scowl, looking straight at Elodie as he jeered, “You left me for this bullshit?”

Calum felt Elodie’s hand grip his arm, and he was proud of the steadiness in her voice as she responded, “I didn’t leave you for anything. I left you because of you.”

Damn fucking straight.

Nathan’s eyes narrowed at her, jaw set as he thwacked the strip against his finger. Calum’s gaze was sharp; if he wrinkled the picture, Calum may just break his finger. Or his entire arm.

Tilting his chin, Nathan scoffed. “When’d you get a mouth on you?” The contempt was flaring in his green eyes, and Calum felt his muscles tighten at the look he was giving Elodie. The party continued on in the hall, but Calum was aware of their friends stepping over, ready to jump in if they needed. Calum hoped they didn’t have to, for Elodie’s sake. Nathan’s tone was patronizing as he continued, “I liked it better when you kept it shut.”

Calum’s teeth gritted, a rush of fiery heat sizzling through his veins because he was two seconds away from shoving the Santa hat in his hands down Nathan’s throat for the way he was speaking to Elodie. She broke up with his pathetic ass, she shouldn’t have to deal with this any longer than she already did. It was increasingly becoming difficult to not make good on his promise of some broken bones.

He chanced a glance at Elodie, noting her pursed lips and tight expression, feeling only some relief when he didn’t see her brown eyes glass over. The fact that Nathan didn’t seem to have the power of making her cry anymore was a step forward, and Calum would be damned if he let Nathan try to push forward.

But before he could say anything, Dominique strode over, tall and purposeful as she snatched the photo strip from Nathan’s hand and snapped, “And I liked it better when you weren’t a part of our lives.” She came to stand on the other side of Calum, her own scowl fierce. “Walk away before I beat Calum in breaking your nose.”

Calum noted the way Ashton’s eyebrows shot up at Dominique’s firm words, looking nothing but in awe of her, and Calum would be too if he wasn’t so focused on keeping his sharpened gaze fixated on Nathan. But the man no one wanted around scoffed, looking at Elodie once more as he asked, “You have other people fight your battles now?”

Calum felt Elodie’s grip on his arm tighten, but then he also felt her free hand grasp his own, giving it a squeeze. He returned the gesture earnestly, jaw set and eyes narrowed at Nathan, and he felt Elodie take a breath as the band on stage began playing Drummer Boy. Elodie’s voice was calm, steady, and the gentleness in which she spoke had only the slightest bit of an edge to it, but her words were sharp as she responded, “There’s nothing left to fight, Nathan. I think it’s time you understand that.”

“And I think it’s time you walk the fuck away,” Dominique started. Calum had a feeling she had been waiting for this since her and Nathan’s animosity started. Her tone was icy, not to be messed with, as she continued, “Leave before I have security kick you out. I don’t give a shit if our parents are friends—it’d be worth it to see you land on your ass outside in front of all the paps.”

Nathan’s gaze went from Dominique to Calum, who was fighting the sneer that threatened to escape as his scowl remained tight on his features. He saw the hatred in Nathan’s eyes towards him, fierce under the fire that was simmering, but Calum didn’t waver in the slightest. All he felt towards Nathan was a mutual hatred for how he treated Elodie; for the time Calum knew her and however long their relationship lasted.

And then Nathan looked at Elodie and Calum didn’t know why it surprised him when he noticed the way Nathan’s gaze didn’t at all soften when he looked at his ex-girlfriend—as if she was the one in the wrong and he was the victim in this situation. There was no love lost between them, it seemed, and while Calum knew that to be true on Elodie’s end, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting from Nathan. The guy was a control freak with an anger issue—no doubt he was more pissed about losing someone to have a grip on than a girlfriend who cared about him until she couldn’t anymore.

Nathan gave a click of his tongue. “Not worth it,” he scoffed before turning and walking away, not looking back as the distance grew between him and everyone else.

Before anyone could say anything, Dominique held the picture strip out to Calum and said, “Here—it’s probably got Nathan germs on it, though.”

Calum took it from her just as Elodie let out a gentle laugh at her best friend’s words, and the sound was enough to loosen Calum’s muscles, especially his jaw. His teeth had began to ache from how hard he was clenching it. “I’m probably the one with the most Nathan germs, to be fair,” Elodie commented, making Dominique dramatically shudder as Ashton stepped up to her.

As Elodie’s words registered in Calum’s head, his face scrunched up, giving a shake of his head as he sounded through a quiet groan, “Oh, jeez, gross, El.”

She giggled softly, her body relaxing now that she was no longer in the presence of her ex, squeezing Calum’s hand once more. “Sorry, sorry,” Elodie hummed, letting go of his arm to look at the strip in her hand. “These are cute,” she added in a soft murmur.

Calum finally looked at the pictures in his own hand, taking in the three images as a gentle smile curved at his lips. He felt Elodie’s warmth seep into him, but the heat that ran through him because of Nathan dissipated and transformed into a  welcome heat spreading through his chest, comforting. The pictures were cute, but Calum gave that credit to Elodie, who was grinning without care in them. Happiness looked good on her.

“They are,” Calum agreed. It wasn’t lost on him how happy he looked in the pictures, too. He liked it. This was definitely going up on his fridge or something.

“Thanks for sticking by my side,” Elodie then said, her voice soft once more as she tilted her head up to look at him, and Calum noted the appreciation dancing in them.

He realized in that moment that he hadn’t even said anything to Nathan when he interrupted them, instead just hoped his eyes would show the murderous intent. His lips curled upwards once more at the sight of her bright eyes and pink cheeks. “You don’t have to thank me, doll,” he told her, before his smile became an impressed smirk. “’M proud of you for putting him in his place. You’re pretty badass, Elodie Banks.”

His compliment had her grin widening happily, the flush in her cheeks darkening adorably as she rolled her eyes to the ceiling and shrugged in mock modesty. “I have my moments,” she giggled before reaching up, because even in her heels she wasn’t nearly as tall as Calum, but he got the message and ducked his head to meet her lips with his halfway.

Whatever the two of them were, it was new and fresh. But even though it was unexpected, both in the fact that she was kind of with Calum and the fact that he wanted to be with her, Elodie knew at least one thing to be true: being with him made her feel more like herself than she had in a long time.

--

tags: @irwinkitten​ @sweetcherrymike​ @meetashthere​ @valentinelrh​ @softforcal​ @astroashtonio​ @hereforlukescruff​ @novacanecalum​ @captain-what-is-going-on​ @angelbbycal​ @singt0mecalum​ @hopelessxcynic​ @lfwallscouldtalk​ @bodhi-black​ @findingliam-o​ @softlrh​ @calntynes​ @calumsmermaid​ @erikamarie41​ @quintodosuniversos​ @longlastingdaydream​ @babylon-corgis​ @lukehemmingsunflower​ @imfuckin10plybud​ @pastelpapermoons​ @conquerwhatliesahead92​ @rotten-kandy​ @metangi​ @neigcthood​ @ohhmuke​ @old-zeppelin-shirt​ @5sos-and-hessa​ @trustmeimawhalebiologist​ @vxlentinecal​ @pettybassists​ @vaporshawn​ @lu-my-golden-boi​ @visualm3nte​ @isabella-mae13​ @dontjinx-it​ @lifeakaharry​ @neonweeknds​ @antisocialbandmate​ @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave​ @calpalbby​ @grreatgooglymoogly​ @sunnysidesblog​ @gorgeouslygrace​ @cocktail-calum​ @miahelizaaabeth​ @madelynerin​ @dramallamawithsparkles​ @theagenderwhocriedwolf​ @kaytiebug14​ @hoodskillerqueen​ @bitchinbabylon​ @empathycth​ @xhaileyreneex​ @inlovehoodx​ @calistheloml​ @aestheticrelated​ @bloodlinecal​ @sublimehood​ @madbomb​ @raabiac​ @britnicole11​ @outofmylimitcal​ @fluffsshawn​ @bloodmoonashton​ @vxidhood​ @tea4sykes 

[chocolatemillkk]

Bathroom Floor (JS)

A/N: an old request of a tired Strictly Joe mixed with something from my own head. Also why does it feel weird to now write things based on him...

It was one of those weeks that felt like a Thursday on a Monday and now that it was actually Thursday, Joe was knackered. Practice had run late again and it was past one in the morning by the time his key turned in the lock and he dropped his bag by the front door. He wondered whether his girlfriend was home but her worn in slip-ons near his own shoes answer his question.

Skipping a snack of any sort, Joe grabs a bottle of water and quietly makes his way upstairs to run a bath. His body wanted to skip the bath, crying out for sleep instead, but he’d already made that mistake in week 2 and he wasn’t about to wake up incredibly sore tomorrow.

As Joe moves to his closet, he eyes your sleeping figure; you’re curled up on your side and the duvet has slipped off half of your body revealing your odd position. Joe bites back a laugh, knowing how often you kicked the blankets off in your sleep-there were a few times he’d woken up to a kick in the stomach from a sleeping Y/N.

As quietly as possible, Joe passes by the bed and stops for a second just to see his girlfriend’s face. It had been two whole days of not seeing each other after a whole year and a half of going out. You were nearing the end of your residency and your random schedules made it hard to see each other but throw in his late nights practicing and it meant no quality time together.

Joe reaches out to brush back a strand of your h/c hair. She was so beautiful, he thought before slipping out of the room.

The bath is almost full by the time Joe gets to it so he strips off and eases into the warmth of the tub.

•••

You're not quite awake when you hear the floorboard near the door that was known for creaking. You blamed it on that one time an angry Caspar tackled Joe to the floor there after a prank gone wrong.

Was it morning already, you wonder. You were still so tired after a full eighteen hour shift at the hospital; you wanted more sleep.

But Joe must be in bed.

This thought gets you to crack your eye and turn to Joe's side of the bed but it's empty-never been slept in. You bolt upright and reach for your phone immediately thinking of the worst scenarios but your alarm illuminates the time before you get to it: 1:54am-you had only been sleeping a couple hours. Joe's side was perfectly done because he hadn't gone to bed in the first place.

You lay your head back down and close your eyes, sighing as your beating heart goes back to normal. This week was way too long-longer because you'd barely seen Joe. And you were so very tired. You missed evenings with Joe but you were so proud of how far he'd come with dancing-you didn’t mind the weird schedule if it came with the price of Joe’s happiness.

A low humming catches your attenion as you begin to relax and you open your eyes again, turning your head to notice the faint warm light on the floorboards. And now that you were conscious of it-it did smell like vanilla. Joe must be home in the bath.

This thought alone convinces your tired body out of the comfortable bed it lay in to get a glimpse of your boyfriend. But not before you wrapped yourself in a furry blanket and slipped on your house slippers.

The door to the bath is ajar and Joe doesn't notice as you silently push it the rest of the way open but he catches your reflection in the mirror as you walk in and jerks his head your way.

"Shit you scared me," he chuckles when he sees it’s just a tired-looking Y/N.

"Sorry," you say softly. You shuffle to the tub and Joe reaches for your hand that dangles at your side.

"Did I wake you?" He asks, concerned that he'd potentially interrupted your sleep.

"Nah," you fold your knees and sit cross-legged on the floor beside the tub. The tiles were cold so you wrap your blanket tighter around you. "I just wanted to see your face."

Joe dips his hands into the bath’s foamy bubbles and creates a white beard for himself. "Here it is."

"Christmas is still a month away Santa Claus," you laugh at his silliness. Even with the tired bags under both your eyes, there was still time for play.

You swipe some of the bubbles off and blow them back into his face. He grabs your hand once it's empty and kisses your knuckles.

"I've missed you too." He kisses your hand again and you feel fluttering in your stomach as he smiles at you. Joe had a way of looking at you so tenderly, like you were a fragile thing he coveted and it always made you as nervous as the first time you saw him. The truth, however, was the complete opposite. You-your love for each other...you two were made of strong stuff. No matter how complicated your hours got as you chased your dreams and Joe chased his, you two were always with each other. Nothing fragile or breakable about that.

"How was practice?" You cover your yawn with the blanket. "How're you getting on?"

"We nearly nailed it! Just a bit more practicing," Joe comes alive as he talks about practice. "Can't tell you specific bits though-I can't wait for you to see it all on Saturday."

"Me too," you squeeze Joe's hand. “I’m oddly nervous.” You'd finally managed to get the Saturday evening off and you were going to watch Joe live for the first time since he started. Joe normally sent you clips of practice to watch during the week to catch you up on what he was up to but this week he refused to show you anything so as not to spoil the final performance. "But mostly I’m excited to see you in all your dancing glory up on the stage! Finally get to celebrate with you on time."

"Well we celebrate only if we make it to the next round." Joe says and the way his eyebrows scrunchle you can tell it was stressing him out.

"You're definitely making it," you trace out his brows to smooth the worry out. Tracing your finger down his nose you say, "You work way too hard not to make it-"

"So does everybody el-"

"Hey," you cut him off. "Don't doubt it."

You lean forward and kiss him, not realising how you missed even the solidness of Joe. And even though your hair gets wet as he tangles his soapy fingers into it and the corner of the blanket soaks into the tub, you hold the embrace for as long as you can.

"I'm so proud of you," you whisper as your forehead rests against his. "You've accomplished so much and I'm so proud."

"And I'm really proud of you," Joe deflects the praise humbly. "You've only got two more weeks of insane hours!"

"Just take the bloody praise without flipping it back on me will you?" You smile before pecking his lips.

"Touché," Joe flicks bubbles onto your nose.

You laugh and push him away, sitting back down on the floor but he grabs your hand and holds it to his slick chest. His thumb strokes the ridges of your knuckles and you settle against the side of the porcelain tub, your head laying on the edge. The two of you stay silent as you gaze at each other in the dim lighting, your arms running the length of the space between you two as you hold onto each other, both marvelling at how you got so lucky without saying a single thing. The dim lighting adds to the ambience of the night, the scented candles warming the room, and the gentle music playing from the speakers does the trick-lulling your eyelids closed.

Joe watches as you fight the sleep and slowly give in to it, your head resting against the side of the tub and the blanket wrapped tightly around you. He knew you'd just had a long shift and how normal it was for you to fall asleep right about anywhere-but this was new.

Joe stealthily reaches for his phone with his other hand and takes a picture for his collection of Y/N-sleeping-in-random-places. So far, there were over fourty photos.

Finally relaxing his own shoulders, Joe closes his eyes and allows his muscles to soak into the warmth of the water-minus the one hand still holding onto yours. He smiles to himself at what the two must look like. But he knows he would take any moments with you in your hectic lives, even if it was the simple act of holding hands just to feel close to each other. Even if that meant one of you sat on the bathroom floor while the other was submerged in water.

When the bath water eventually turns lukewarm, Joe sits up and moves your hand to your lap. He steps around you carefully to finish his nighttime routine. After tying his robe, he kneels to where you still slump, surprisingly in deep sleep.

"Y/N love," Joe tucks your hair behind your ear. You don't even budge so Joe shakes your shoulder. You mumbles something that sounds like go away and he can't help but laugh.

"You know I could put your hand in the water and then go away and you'd probably pee your pants," Joe tells you as he gets one arm under your knees instead and lifts you.

"Piss off," you mumble against his chest.

"Now you're awake," Joe shakes his head as he carries you to bed. "You just pulled the oldest trick in the book on me.”

You’re too tired to respond but a small smile tugs at your lips. It's mischievous and childlike, Joe observes. God, he loved this woman.

"Should've left you on the floor," Joe continues as he places you gently into bed and pulls the covers over your body. He settles in next to you, pulling you closer to his body because he'd missed the feeling. The way your solidness grounded him.

"I love you," Joe whispers into your ear, 3 words he never tired of telling you. You hum back, too tired to say the actual words-but hoping he understood it was tired talk for I love you too. With the way he tightens his grip around your waist, however, you were certain he understood it perfectly.

[mellowgirl01]

🍷Sweet Wine🍷

Masterlist

Wordcount: 4209

Characters: 20692

People: Adam x Y/N x Eve

Made for: @ladyfluff

Tag: @may-bereblog @jaquellejohnson @mousee555 @ladyfluff @starkeeper43

Request:No

Date: 4/1/19

Summary:  No day but today-rent

A/N: I’m really sorry that the stroy has been 2 weeks late but it was quite difficult tothink back to the beginin gof the story when so much of it was about the past. Which is kinda like the point of the story. Thank you guys so so much for even just continuinf to read my stroies. It really does mean alot to me. Enjoy 💕💕

With a loud inhale of breath y/n rose from her bed to see that her lovers were no longer by her side. Seconds after she also heard one of her lovers yell out to someone named Ava. So much had happened in her head as she felt like she had been sleeping in that bed for days. But all that was flown out the window when a girl that looked strangely similar to the girl in her dreams marches in with a gun held up to her face saying something that she couldn’t really comprehend  because that face..just screamed

“..Madeline?..”

“Wha?”

Ava looked confused at y/n’s choice of words that was strange from how others would react to a girl with a gun in their hands who just barged into their room. But like the speed of light Eve came to the rescue and turned Ava around smacking the shit out of her and snatching the gun. She quickly emptied the bullets and threw the gun downstairs in frustration. She told Adam to get rid of the stupid thing a long time ago since it would cause him nothing but trouble and pain. Or at least the bad reminder of it. She never truly understood his thinking at some points but the gun was one thing that she had no need in wanting to understand nore the need to be around. Especially not in the hands of the Ava her sister who probably never grow up and feel the need too. So excited by the new world you would almost think she’d live in the sun of L.A

“Sheesh sis I was just mess-”

“THAT THING IS NOT A TOY AND TO HAVE IT AROUND MY DARLING IS SOMETHING YOU KNOW NOT TO MESS WITH!!! ESPECIALLY WHile- while Adam, the owner of it is out for us! Of all the things I let you mess around with Ava This. will never be. The one!”

“Ok ok, but I think you need to check her out she seems a bit on the loopy side.”

“Ava what on Earth are you on about she’s asleep-”

Eve turned her head to see y/n just sitting on the side of her bed with the messiest hair she had ever seen. She looked sweet in the dim light that came from within  the bedroom and even sweeter when she sees that her feet are dangling on the side of them bed, waiting to touch the cold wood floors.

“Oh..y/n.. Thank GOD!!!”

Running over to y/n she held her tight making her flop back onto the bed. This action of relief and a curious concern didn't really phase Y/n. What she was so confused about was why Eve acted the way she did, and why even though she had dreamt a dream so unrealistic and odd..felt so true. More of a memory that was lost among all others in a crowd of god knows what. All she knew was that she was back in the future or was it the present? Wrapping her arms around her Eve she inhaled her scent and kissed the crook of her neck. Eve let out a warmed sigh as she felt the sweet featherly kiss placed upon her swan like neck. Sitting up she pulled y/n up on her feet. Ava was more than confused and that would make 2 since y/n had absolutely no clue what in the hell was going on either.

“Ava please, let's all head downstairs so we can all introduce ourselves-”

“Ava?..but she looks so much like the woman in my dreams her name was Madeline?”

That was enough to stop Eve dead in her tracks as she was going to lead y/n softly down the stairs. Looking down to y/n she held her mouth open with her pale eyelashes blinking.

“How..how in the  hell do you know that name ? What dream?”

“The dream I had..it was so weird but It’s so much to talk about really..like years worth of information just piled into my head. My head actually hurts. That and my back.”

“Let’s go and sit down.”

Once in the living room she got out a blanket and made some tea that Adam bought for when y/n would wake up. Being thirsty was one thing but she also could have been really light headed and thank god that Adam had dim lights or els her head would have probably felt worse beyond compare. Getting comfortable on the couch while Ava roamed all around the place before finally jumping on the right side of y/n with a big grin plastered on her face. Ava sat, walked, and talked like more of a child but at the same time she seems like a lot of fun. y/n understood enough that this was Eve’s sister so she wanted to make a good first impression and try to get to know her. Since Ava seemed so keen on wanting to know more about y/n too.

“How long have you been human?”

“..since..birth?..I’m sorry but I don’t really understand your question? Everyone is ..human.”

Ava’s eyes widened as she understood then why Eve looked so shocked.

‘So this is y/n, their little lover that got away. She seems really nice and pretty. What shame she left them all so soon. And the way she did. Winder if..’

Getting up she walked her way over to a part of the living room and got down a really big dictionary. Sitting next to y/n again she opened the book and inside was’t the many many words that should have been printed down on the pages. Instead their were small polaroids of Adam and Eve and of separate pictures of them through the years. Ava didn’t know much about reincarnation nore much about y/n since she moved around alot and it was quite hard for her to get into contact with her sister. Ava did genuinely love her sister and respect her ..well at times but this time she just wanted to see her sister happy about a situation that was so very long ago. She knew that Eve had hope for the future but due to Adam sometimes bringing that kind of talk down and even Ava at times then the combination with the incident she decided that for now in this moment to not get into her schemes. She was there of course. And she saw the sadness in her sister’s eyes. What she didn’t know about was y/n’s past life or the details of such. To her they didn't matter anyways. All that mattered now was she wanted to make her sister and brother in law happy of her. Maybe even happy in general. As she flipped through the pages she could see the wheels turning int y/n’s small head. Then landing on a picture of Adam and Eve’s third wedding y/n stopped her from moving any further. Ava thought that this would be a good time to speak up.

“It wasn’t really the same time period but..it was close enough. Do you remember them now? Don’t you remember it all?”

“You say remember like it was something that happened a couple of years ago. These have to be photoshopped there's no way that Adam or Eve- no you know what no, Your the same person who ran into my room with a fucking gun why am I even talking to yo-?!!”

“Because that’s the reason. I’m a stranger right? Why would I need to lie to you? And if you need some more information then you might as well keep your voice down.”

Ava pulled y/n down to her chest and covered her mouth with her hand. Standing up she was quick to lead in into the basement. Unfortunately the basement door was locked. Adam didn’t trust Ava in the slightest with anything around his house which meant that keeping some really important blood secret from her was mandatory. But Ava don’t have time. Eve by now would have noticed that you both weren’t there where she had left you and surely wasn’t stupid. So she gave up on the stupid basement and crawled up the stairs quietly into Adam’s study.

“Ha, got cha.”

The door was open and she quickly gestured y/n inside of the room closing the door behind her as she was left to deal with a screaming Eve who ran up the stairs. Y/n could see from the candle that was lit in few areas that there was pictures of people up on the walls. Not even a spec of the natural wall was shown. Looking to the right of her she saw rolled up posters of the side of Adam’s desk. She paid no mind to them but as she was walking toward the closet she heard Ava and Eve start to scream from the outside about it not being any of Ava’s business. Nore should she have told y/n about them like this.

“So she still had the right to know, it was her old life after all dearest sister.”

“That’s not the point Ava !”

“Look beside the desk you’l-”

“AVA STOP IT!”

Fed up with all the yelling and screaming y/n marched over to the door swinging it open causing Ava to fall flat on her back.

“Come in here then and tell me what the hell is going on! How long have I been asleep, why did i see you both move so fast, how can you move that fast, HOW OLD ARE ALL OF YOU!!? And where the fuck is adam?!!”

“Right here love..”

He was dressed in scrubs and a medical mack covered his chin as he looked like he hadn’t slept in days, at least more than normal. Adam was pissed at the fact that Eva was half way in his study but that wasn’t important. The only important thing was in front of him standing right in the middle of the door way. Not just y/n but the truth. All going down and into the living room the lovers sat down on either side of y/n while Ava was told to preoccupied herself since the subject was more than highly private. Before Adam settled into the living room he went to the basement to get a trunk that looks rotted and more than worn out. Adam made a statement about taking better care of it through the years  but he was in a floor and the leather just gave and their was no way he could part with it when it kept everything inside of it so safe and dry. Y/N could smile a little at this. The side of Adam that was for one moment happy and really loved to show things off. To show himself rather.

“Your sister is as dimwitted as always if she thought that I would just let the most important valuables in my life be out in the open for her taking.”

He said while opening the trunk. Eve had her arm wrapped around y/n rubbing her arm.

“Well you had that gun out that I told you to throw away.”

“I was kinda hoping she would use it on herself.”

He mumbled. She kicked him in the side and Adam just rolled his eyes lifting the trunk’s door up. The first the thing that was on top was some fabric that had a really beautiful pattern. It was..yellow..Like a gold type of yellow…

“the dress..What the fuck is going on?”

y/n started to tear up and set her back to the couch biting her lips into a curl. Both of the lovers were more than heartbroken at the sight of this. The hurt and confused expressions flip flopped as Adam took out the dress and laide it in her arms. Sitting in front of y/n on the floor he placed a red key in her hands and even though there was more thing in there the most important thing of all was the thing that settled it all. THat made everything real. That made y/n’s heart skink to the very pit of her stomach. Adam unrolled a large painting of All three of them in a portrait that replaced the one that was hanging in the manner all those years ago.

“Vanilla french was your choice of perfume..On your dress it lingered..I kept that same perfume for years and that's all that We’ve ever known. The beauty of the past. Or what little memory that was had of it, if you did have that dream then that would explain why you wouldn’t wake up for three days, we told you job that you were just awfully sick and needed a vacation. Sorry..”

“Three days? No wonder why my head hurt so much. My mend went through three years of history and past things that weren’t mine within three days..”

“But they are yours love.”

“Is it? Eve all of this shit is the past me..Everything!! From the dress to the perfume to almost near everything! That girl that you're looking for isn’t here and i’m me!!! If you can’t love who I am and are just burned with the memory of who that girl wss then I..I can’t be with you.”

“Y/n Please-”

“No! I can take somethings but if you want me to stay with you then you have to tell me everything and tell me if you fell in love with me and not just some thought of me! It’s not fair! I have fallen in love with who you both are, truly I have but if you cannot take in that realization and leave this past then I can’t love you it’s not right nor is it fair to me!! I’m never gonna be her.”

Eve was about to speak but Adam stopped her and rubbed her leg sighing.

“..We don’t eat, we don’t go out because we are what we are. When we found you.”

“We found that the nightmares subsided a little...we knew that you would be different. We knew that things of course would change like all things do. We wanted to over time say what we needed too. We knew we couldn’t hid from you forever love.”

“Fine..what about the real reason as to why you feel for me though?”

“..we..I did fall for the past you..”

“And? That’s all I get?”

“Eve loved you for you. This you that is.”

Silence filled the room and y/n shoved the dress and the key onto Adam and gets up to walk to the doorway. With tears filling her eyes she huffed and with a broken voice told Eve

“You know where I live..If you need me then just come by..Don’t ..call me.”

She got all of her clothes and things and left. She didn't want to look back..She was her own person. SHe had her own mind, her own heart. Her own damn soul and if he could only think about the past then there was nothing that she could do to change his mind. He had to for himself if he loved her like he said. But the bitter truth was that she loved him. But due to the circumstances she now had to love him from afar.

Adam and Eve both had their conversations and had the conversations. Why Adam could just for a while get out of the past and for once look forward. Why he was scared to do such a thing and why he saw the world the way that he did. They even argued about it few times.

“This funk..this stage that you can’t seem to reason with. Do you even want to be happy anymore Adam? It’s been 4 months since you last talked to her.She still misses you..Why can’t you go to her now?”

“It’s true, I am in love with this past that I have created. A time where the only one living it happily was me. Nowadays My time seems to be slipping away from me and while I do miss her I don’t ..I never. Wanted her to see me like this. I wanted to be stronger but instead I let myself slip into this fantasies and this state of if we all just got together again it would be how it was before.”

“It was, Yet the one thing that was different is everything. Do you fear change?”

“My darling nowadays. I fear everything and nothing. I am everywhere and yet I get nowhere.”

“Your in a place of your own. That I have always got Adam. But this time it  should be different. I think that you should be thinking of ways that you can apologize. To her.”

“I have..and I’m working on it.”

“Alright..Just please don’t take too long, unlike us my love. She doesn’t have forever.”

He sighed. That day he knew that it was either his warped mind of past of the future. So set up a conversation with himself. He needed to really get this shit over with. While he would always be himself and knew that neither of the women he loved wanted to change him. He hurt them, and like man he had to say that he did it and find a way to make things right. Some things are just worth giving up. Especially thing that could be replaced with memories more blissful. More loving, freeing..something that would last forever and more. He looked at himself in the mirror and took a deep breath. Dressed in his finest he asked for Eve to take y/n out and head to a spot where he would meet up with them. He even brought Ian to help him out and carry some stuff with him to the spot. Once Adam saw Eve sit down in the empty parking lot with y/n he took off his glasses and looked at Ian.

“I normally don’t allow others into such a business like this Ian but..your the only person that I know...For this I really do thank you. Your my only fr-frrr-fr. Oh bloody hell.”

“Hey don’t worry man, I know what you mean. It really does mean a lot that you invited me to help rather. I won’t let you down.”

“Just remember my cue and that's all don’t overwhelm yourself. Oh, and don’t speak.”

Getting out of the car Adam unlocked the trunk of the car to get out and even smaller one. Walking over to where Eve and y/n were he was only spotted when he was about 5 feet away. That being it was really dark out and not even the street lights could save them. Why of all places did Adam chose this spot Eve would never know, but not for long. Once y/n laid her eyes on him she could feel her heart race. He could hear it and tried his best not to go to her and just kiss her. Even in the dark she shined like an angel. He hopped that the stunt would earn him a kiss on the cheek or at least some form of contact. It was of course safe to say that Adam had been touch starved and not even Eve after all the bickering and what not didn’t feel as though it was a rather appropriate time. Feelings were hurt through the past months and things just needed to be settled before any ounce of something physical could be exchanged. As he placed the little trunk in front of y/n and his wife he took in a deep breath. He knew that this approach was rather corny and would all around be humiliating in a scene but that’s the reason why he was doing it. This apology wasn't for him to feel comfort. It wasn’t for him at all. So no matter the cost he would get his girls back no matter what. As Ian opened the trunk y/n never swayed her eyes from Adam and his moppie fuigar. The look of something being wrong never left his face it seems. She knew that he had not taken care of himself scene that day she left, Knowing Eve she might have helped him along the way but didn’t force him into anything that he didn’t want to do. As he looked at her he would see the same. She took care of herself outside wise but as for the inside he knew that she was a wreck, how could he not have he knew it all too well what she felt. Eve the same. Getting out a crumpled piece of paper from his leather jacket he said aloud.

“Dearly beloveds. I have called out to you all for a reason that is very important to me..While there are some things that I cannot change, there will few that I can but don’t want to and like any stubborn old fool this will cause pain to those around me that I hold dear. Even if it be not good for me or my mind..The many things that I have taken for granted could be all put into some sort of book. Pages too many to read in just one sit, but the thing that I should have never taken for granted was you.”

He looked up to y/n and crumbled back up the paper no longer needing it, throwing it in the trunk with all the other things that lay in it.

“You who even through the pain has still loved me for all that I am. But i never took the time to love and or get to know who you are. Beautiful, smart, a rush of life runs through your veins and I was the fool who chose not to really look at any of it. I chose to instead think of the past while I could have lived in the glorious moment of you now..For that i’m a dick, a jackass, and a horrible lover no matter what you say. I knew what I Was doing and if you hadn't stopped me dead in my tracks I would have kept on going. I’m so so very sorry for that my love. But I know that my words can only do so much..So, In salute of the past I think it is only fitting to now let the be clean from our memories. All of us. Ian?”

Ian got out his glasses and put them on making both y/n and Eve giggle in the process since he had such a  hard time doing so and trying to look cool. Ian finally got them on and gave his lighter to Adam who was scowling at him. Then getting out his flask he dumped all of the liquid that sat inside onto the dress and things below it. Eve was shocked by this so was y/n, the next action only made their jaws drop even further as they saw Adam find the lighter into the trunk. Setting everything all into a blaze. While the smell of the perfume was a little off and kinda grows. The gesture was all that mattered. Standing up y/n looked into Adam’s face and marched up to him. Widen his arms expecting a hug he got a slap to the face.

“Well i deserved that- mmm”

With the sting came a sweet tasted of the most sweetest wine he could have ever tasted. Rich as always but this flavor was something new and worth the wait. Finally he had made right. Slowly pulling away from Adam’s tight grip y/n looked up into his eyes since he was a giant and she only so small.

“I love you Adam.”

“And I love you y/n”

Eve sat there smiling a toothless grin then looked to poor Ian who was sniffling. No wonder why he put on his shades. Just like Adam the guy was nothing but a softie.

Dropping Ian off and moving swiftly towards the Victorian. On their was a new thought ran into Adam’s mind. Looking into the back of the car he noticed that his little love bird was fast asleep in the back of the car.

“So..new beginnings right?”

“Adam, tomorrow please..let it wait till the next day and just let us end today with love and a smile..I love you star man. Now let’s just get home so that we can go to sleep. “

“You got it major tom.”

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

Chapter 19: Apollo continues to learn that getting answers about anything inevitably involves him suffering

This is a shorter chapter than usual, but it covers what it needs to, and besides, it’s been a month since last update. I wanted to post something.

[Beginning] [Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

“Sometime” isn’t before the middle of December. The cold days hit with a little more frequency, like every year; no snow yet, but Apollo is still tired freezing half to death inside the office just like he is outside. He contemplates asking Phoenix if Mia would short out a space heater if he brought it in. He contemplates asking Mia, however he might go about getting an answer that is more than flickering lights or breaking the mirror again. Trucy mentioned an ouija board once. Was it in jest? Apollo never knows.

It is one of those days when he can see his breath both before and after stepping in through the agency’s door that he and Klavier meet up to grab coffee over his lunch break. It’s Klavier’s choice of location, again – Apollo has a healthy amount shame for the quality of anywhere he frequents that usually means nothing in the face of Clay and Trucy’s worse tastes, but that stops him from making a suggestion when it comes to Klavier. And Klavier’s choice is still pretentious and expensive, and Apollo still argues with him over paying but this time not because he’s afraid he’ll be losing his soul to a stupid debt.

Klavier is appropriately horrified by the story about Iris, appropriately baffled by her behavior (her deference, her apologetic manner, all the ways she meekly seems like Vera instead of an emissary of the Court) toward Phoenix. What he does say is that Phoenix called her “an old friend from college”, and Klavier snorts.

“You know what that means,” he says dryly.

“Yeah,” Apollo says. “I had sorta figured that, but since I have to work with Mr Wright every day, I’m not dwelling on it.” (Admittedly, “Feenie” is probably good blackmail material, but if Apollo is ever at the point when he’s considering blackmailing his boss, he’s probably got a lot of other very pressing problems to deal with first.)

Klavier shakes his head. “I wonder constantly how that man is not dead,” he says. “That is – he is what most of the fae look like, that horrible cat-vomit color of all of the blessings and curses stacked upon each other from allies and infighting. Humans don’t look like that and last long.”

“Except Mr Wright, apparently,” Apollo says. The rest of the implications of Klavier’s last statement, the certainty with which he says it, are things he doesn’t want to think about. Is that what happens to most children on the other side of the changeling equation? What became of the little human girl who could have grown up to be Vera Misham? The fae are callous, everyone knows and expects, but to befriend them – does that demand a certain callousness on Phoenix’s part? Or are Iris and others different in their attitudes towards humans? Mia must have been, if she cared enough about Phoenix to have saved him, to mentor him, to stay beyond death, no chance of rest, to look after him and the children he takes in. “But what kind of cat vomit have you seen that’s bright pink, is the real lede you’ve buried.”

It isn’t, of course, but Klavier, smirking a little, looks to be seriously contemplating it -- and at that Apollo laughs, and then Klavier does. And that feeling like there’s a shroud on them both, that tangled fae web, doesn’t quite go away, but it lightens. Less opaque, less suffocating. Divert, deflect, don’t dwell on the background horror of their lives. That’s not Apollo’s usual style, but since he can’t entirely ignore it anymore, can’t repress all that’s right around him, it’s the next best thing.

But the fragile peace always falls from the table, and Klaver leans forward, frowning suddenly, his eyes flashing their different shade of blue. “You still don’t have the Sight, ja? How do you know what he looks like?”

“He showed me through the magatama,” Apollo says. “Back when he first explained what it did, and that he was actually human and not one of the fae.” Mostly he remembers the pink, thought that a strange color for the fae – the darks and the reds seemed aesthetically fitting, the noose-like mark burned in around his neck, but the bright mists, like an embrace encircling him, seemed wrong. “Do the colors mean something?”

“Of course,” Klavier says. He takes a sip of his coffee. “What that is? Harder to tell.” He touches the side of his neck and adds, quieter, “The one about his neck is death. Death is always easy to recognize.”

Vera; Phoenix telling Apollo that Klavier has to know who the killer is; that Klavier was moving a second before she dropped, like death started visibly acting before it felled her. “Oh.” Death follows him like a plague. It’s written right on him. “He always says he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, whenever I ask him about” – Apollo waves his hand vaguely – “anything, but – how could anyone just stumble into that much…?”

“Presumably it’s possible,” Klavier says. “They’re petty, but curses still aren’t made lightly, ja? Presumably he could have began ignorant to the nature of what he was surrounded by, but for him to merely brush past them yet be as he is? Nein, he is evading a much longer story.” He shakes his head back, flipping his hair out of his face. “And some of that mess is blessings, too, and you and Fraülein Magician can also attest, those are not given out on a whim, not when it will shape your life, and especially not when it is one that will be of no benefit to the fae who gifted it.”

Trucy glowed when she stood inside a hula-hoop and called it a faery ring, Apollo remembers that much. But – “Me?” he asks. “What do you mean, I can attest? About Mr Wright?”

Klavier’s eyes flash again but this time hold their Sighted color. “You didn’t realize?” he asks.

Apollo’s stomach drops. “Realize what?” he demands. “What am I supposed to be realizing?”

“You know that people can’t lie to you, ja?” Klavier asks. “You do a very good job of finding evidence for it – all those little habits on the witness stand you point to, claim that’s how you know they’re lying—”

“That is how I know they’re lying!” Apollo protests. “I’m not some magic lie detector – that’s what I see, those nervous tics. They light up and I – then I’ve still got to figure out why, and what the truth is, and I—”

Klavier leans forward, his arms folded on the table, staring down Apollo unblinking, and without the grin Apollo expects with that look. “Light up?” he repeats. “You mean to say, you see people’s movements sometimes glow, is that how that works” – he raises an eyebrow in questioning and Apollo nods – “and you are saying that this did not ever register to you as magic?”

“I—” It’s usually easy to snap right back at Klavier when he is in this form, the glamoured public-face, but no response will form. Apollo doesn’t even know what he would say to himself right now, his thoughts as twisted up as his tongue. “I didn’t even realize what the hell it meant until Mr Wright and Trucy explained to me! It’s been like this for as long as I can remember – how was I supposed to – to—”

To know it was magic, to know that he was anything more than normal. It was normal, the flashes of red and the not knowing why, and was that how Vera felt, making and enchanting perfect copies and not knowing what she was because it was all she knew? “You said it’s a blessing?” Apollo asks. If he squeezes his hands into fists he can stop their trembling. “Can you see who gave it to me? Like is there a way to – to find where – who?”

Klavier shakes his head a little, his eyes never leaving Apollo’s. “I’m afraid I don’t know many of them personally, ja? It’s not the same source as any of your boss’ or Fraülein Magician’s blessings, is all I can tell you.” He leans further, like he’s trying to stretch the whole way across the table, like that can allow him to glean something more from Apollo’s face. “You really have no idea who that could have come from?”

“No,” Apollo lies.

Phoenix withheld many things, but surely he would have said if Klavier had the ability to see lies – surely Apollo would have noticed, the way he’s noticed with Trucy, suspected with Phoenix and had Trucy confirm. (The way he couldn’t notice about himself?) And Klavier, frowning as he is, just looks contemplative, not suspicious, not like he thinks Apollo isn’t telling him something. (What reason would Apollo have to lie about this? What reason does he have: not wanting to face what’s in front of him? Surely Klavier could understand that.)

(Though Klavier did, has, faced it all, and Apollo is still here, repressing, denying, diverting.)

He takes a long drink of his coffee in the hopes that it can wash away the dryness in his throat and that sticky stoppered feeling of words he should have said and things he should have realized long ago. “What does it look like?” he asks, in what is, he thinks, a good job at sounding unconcerned. “Like Mr Wright’s foggy cat vomit colors or…?”

That draws a sharp, surprised laugh out of Klavier. “Oh, nothing such,” he says. He reaches out and prods Apollo on the cheekbone, just beneath his right eye, and traces on his skin a small crescent up the side of his face to his eyebrow. “That all is covered in red scales.”

“Scales?” Apollo repeats, imagining the statues of Goddess of the Law in the courthouse, the brass scales dangling from her hand, and further aware, as it is, that Klavier takes a rather long time to stop touching Apollo’s face.

“Like a snake,” Klavier says.

Iris, he thinks, Iris’ strange way of address to him, one of several things about that meeting Apollo didn’t mention to Klavier. “Or a dragon?” he asks.

Klavier shrugs. “Or a lizard, fish, whatever you prefer.”

So dragon doesn’t mean something significant to him, not the way Iris made it seem -- not in the way Apollo still thinks it must be, from some angle, to someone else. “So it’s not a shapeshifter thing, right?” Apollo asks. (Iris called Trucy a little firebird, and he’s pretty sure she isn’t. He’s pretty sure Phoenix isn’t. Just metaphors. Just an epithet for Trucy based on her father’s name. And Apollo—) “Just to be sure,” he adds, “since apparently I don’t know anything.”

He doesn’t mean to sound as bitter as he does. Klavier frowns. “I certainly wouldn’t say that, Herr Forehead. You’re far from the first not to realize what you are, and you surely won’t be the last.”

Kristoph, and on the other side of the door, his younger self. Apollo, seeing red. He touches his face expecting the skin there by the side of his eye to be rough, but it just feels like skin like any other. “And you can hardly check the blessings and curses affixed to you in a mirror, ja?” Klavier adds. “But no, you are no shapeshifter. I’ve met – well, one of them, and it’s plain to see.”

“Oh,” Apollo says. He lowers his hand, hopes Klavier doesn’t see he is still shaking a little. Trucy would, surely, but that’s why he doesn’t take paths in conversation with her that would lead him to destinations like this. “Good.”

“What, you don’t want to be a lizard?” Klavier asks with a wink. Apollo rolls his eyes. “Surely there is some kind with a nice set of horns to match your hair.”

“You’re insufferable,” Apollo says, and Klavier laughs and lights up like a spotlight hit him.

-

“Mr Wright,” Apollo says.

Phoenix sets down the case file he is reading. “I know that tone,” he says, looking up at Apollo from beneath furrowed brows. “What am I getting grilled for this time?”

If he’s aware of how Apollo sounds right before confronting him about something he’s kept secret, if this has happened enough times, then Apollo would think it only natural to stop keeping secrets. “Why didn’t you tell me that my ability to notice people’s habits is magic?”

“You didn’t know?”

Oh, this is fucking ridiculous. “No,” Apollo says. “You explained it to me. Why would you think I would know?”

“It’s very rare that the fae would bless someone and not tell them,” Phoenix replies. “I mean – that did happen once to me, but everything’s happened to me at one point or another.”

Apollo glares at him.

Phoenix sighs and spreads his hands in resignation. “Trucy knew that she was magic and that she could call out people for lying – just not why she saw what she did when someone was lying. I presumed you were in the same boat.”

“Well, yeah, but she was raised in a coven,” Apollo says. “The rest of us aren’t like that.”

(Isn’t he?)

And Phoenix is staring at him with narrowed eyes and Phoenix always can tell if someone is lying and has whatever Apollo’s said already been too much? Has he already tripped whatever way Phoenix knows? “Who blessed Trucy?” he asks quickly, hoping he can turn this conversation somewhere else, hoping that Phoenix will stop looking at him like that, seeing whatever he does. “Do you know?”

“Magnifi,” Phoenix replies. “Same as her mother, they both have Truth. And same as me, and you, but different sources on ours.”

“Obviously,” Apollo says.

Phoenix snorts. “Obviously,” he agrees dryly.

“But that – that’s why you picked me, out of everyone in Mr Gavin’s office. Because of that blessing, because you knew I could know—”

“I already told you that’s why I picked you, Apollo,” Phoenix says. He glances down at the papers in front of him and turns one over. “I told you that no one else had the eye for the truth that you do.”

Red around Apollo’s eye; he meant it literally. “Son of a bitch,” Apollo says. Phoenix grins crookedly, apparently taking it as a pointed insult and not the general exclamation that it is. “You could just clearly state things,” he adds, knowing for sure that he’s done more than think this before but has said this before and probably will say it again. “Like instead of being vague and mysterious and assuming, you could just make sure everyone is caught up on the same page.”

Phoenix hums, clearly not convinced by that sound logic. “I’ll be honest with you,” he says, and Apollo wants to fling his hands in the air, because if Phoenix is prefacing with this, he hasn’t cared much to be in the past. “When I don’t do that, it’s because I don’t want to.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Apollo says.

Phoenix holds up a hand. “Apollo,” he says firmly. “I’m not done. Just consider this one from my side: all the cards are face-down on the table, and I know what they all are. But there’s a lot I can also learn by figuring out which cards the other players know the faces of. If I just turn them over to start, I’m losing out on more information.”

“Right,” Apollo says. “And we established after Vera’s trial that you don’t trust me.”

“That is not what I said,” Phoenix says. He finally sounds irritable, his cool exterior sliding loose. “And I’m pretty sure you know that.” The scowl doesn’t leave his face but it isn’t quite directed toward Apollo anymore. “If I don’t trust anyone, it’s whoever gave you that blessing, and I wanted to gather what I could about it before I showed my hand.”

“Do you make these calculations every time you interact with someone, or is it just me because of my connection to Mr Gavin and… this?” Apollo touches the side of his face again. Now he knows what his habit that he would notice in court is – and such an obvious one, at that.

“I’m not a defense attorney anymore,” Phoenix says with a sad smile. “It’s not my job to trust people.”

That seems definitive – final. A firm sign that Phoenix wants to be done with this thread, but unfortunately for him, Apollo still has questions, and if he doesn’t want to deal with them now, then it’s a lesson for next time about how he can preempt the situation by just fucking telling Apollo things from the start. “How do blessings work, anyway? Can it go away? Can someone just give or be given an endless amount?”

Phoenix rubs a hand across his eyes. “No, they don’t ever go away, not like a witch’s contract can break. Theoretically you could be blessed endlessly, but that’s contingent on having that number of fae like you enough for it, and them to be creative enough to each come up with new unique ones – you can’t get blessed with Truth or Luck or anything twice over.” He holds up a hand, counting off on his fingers the points he is making. “Giving them does have a cost, I believe, but I haven’t been enlightened further because the fae understandably don’t like handing out new information about their weaknesses, even to friends. And curses have the same ‘uniqueness’ principle, where if you’ve made an enemy who hates you enough to curse you with Death, the next archnemesis you make is going to have to come up with something different.” He curls his fingers down into a fist. “Like, say, cast a curse of Misfortune to really hammer the whole thing home.”

“Are you speaking from experience?” Apollo asks.

He doesn’t know why he asks. He thinks the answer is obvious – and so, apparently, does Phoenix, obvious enough that he doesn’t need to hide it or dodge that question, because he cracks a grin and says, “That’s all I’ve ever got to speak from.”

And Apollo files that away in the back of his mind, too.

[marlahey]

we stumbled in the dark; i knew we’d be alright (part three)

a shawn mendes rpf fic rating/warnings: standard teen language; references children and illness (sorry this keeps going to sad places) misc notes: thank you so much for all the love – I have never gained so many followers in such a short amount of time! please reblog/drop in my inbox/tag any reactions with wsitd. any feedback is really loved and appreciated. I have a paper due this week, so have a super long update to tide you over.  and because I want to know if anyone actually reads these notes; a question with no context: ‘queen’ or ‘champagne birthday’? also how much does everyone love the new album? I can’t stop listening to it. (previously; start at part one here)

lisbon; now Shawn’s a little superstitious when it comes to new venues.

He’d deny it up and down out loud, but you’ve now spent enough time in his company to know the truth. You have to carefully avoid laughing while he places a worn pick in the exact centre of B stage, or getting distracted when he always hums Life Of The Party with his acoustic before any other song, his feet dangling off the edge while he waits for the crew to finish setup. “Is that even on the setlist?” you ask, though you know the answer: of course it is. 

Shawn’s smile is a little rueful as he scrubs a hand through his hair. “I just want to remind myself to remember, you know? Where I started.” You throw your arms out in the cavernous arena. “You mean you didn’t spend your childhood in concrete stadiums made to seat twenty thousand people?” There is a particular kind of joy you get in making Shawn laugh that hasn’t really faded over time, though it’s less of a surprised pinch in your stomach than a warm glow, now. He shakes his head a little, his you’re ridiculous face. “Nah, can’t say I did. Pickering was missing out.” You let your grin spin out as you do a little circle there in front of him at the floor edge of the stage, on the other side of the metal grate. It’s just high enough that you’d have to stretch your arm to touch him, if you wanted. “I can see why you love it.” “Is it big enough for you?” Shawn asks, and you stop, confused. You find him on his feet, leaning down towards you with his hand outstretched. You know he’s strong enough to pull you onto the stage; you’re a little more doubtful of your own ability to balance on the only foothold available: the barrier. “C’mon El, I won’t let you fall.” The trust me is implicit; you can see the question in Shawn’s eyes, behind his grin. All you can do is dig your foot between the pipes and take his hand, and pretend that it’s Shawn hauling you across two feet of empty space that caused your stomach to summersault a little. It’s further than probably either of you realized; you land unsteady on your feet and then Shawn’s hands are there, on your waist, keeping you upright. His necklace clangs against your forehead while your nose presses into his sternum. Your heart is hammering a little unsteady in your ears. At least, you think that’s yours. “You’re lucky,” you mutter, uncurling your fingers from his shirt. “Ava would have killed us both.” Shawn exhales against your hair, a faint laugh. You remember the flight and pull back as normally as possible. “What were you saying before? Big enough?” He blinks, and then his smile is wide and familiar and you’re sure you imagined something off in his face. Shawn steers you by the shoulers to face out from the stage, right at centre. There’s already a white x of tape at your feet to mark where the mike stand is meant to go. “This,” he says, and you follow the line of his gesturing hand out to the sea of empty seats. “Everything the light touches is our kingdom?” you ask, just to make him laugh again. “Not unless you think Queen is about you,” Shawn says. “And I wouldn’t let you sully Mufasa’s reputation with such a lie.” You wince and you’re suddenly glad he’s still looking out and not at your face. There’s a memory there you’ve tried to forget. “No, just hang on. Stay here.” His hands leave your shoulders as Shawn hops off the stage with infuriating ease and vaults over the barrier. “Show off!” you call after him, and from here you can see his shoulders shake a little. Shawn turns around in the centre of the standing floor. Even in the middle of nothing, or even in the middle of everything, you’d always be able to find him. It’s a fact you’ve resolved never to examine too closely.  “What do you think?” Shawn asks, looking amused that you still have no idea what he’s talking about. But you indulge him anyway, pulling your eyes away from him to properly look around. Alone, the arena feels even more massive than before. You think back to that first concert in Ottawa, crammed up against Ava and hundreds of other bodies. Though you’ve traveled across two countries with Shawn doing exactly this, you’ll never know what it’s like to throw your voice out and have twenty thousand people send theirs back. “It’s huge,” you tell him, as if it weren’t obvious. “Sometimes I still can’t believe you do this every night.” Shawn’s smile is that pleased, humble one. Fondness for him wraps around your ribs. Shawn lopes forward, draping his arms over the grate and leaning forward to speak as though you’re the pop star. It’s a strange thought. “In Montreal,” he says, “You told me that you like to visit places places that make you feel small. Like the ocean.” His lips lift in a teasing smirk. “Well, smaller.” You’re so busy wracking your brain that you don’t even respond to the dig at your height. “Montreal? But we won’t go there till…” You trail off. “You mean, Montreal almost two years ago?” “You don’t remember?” Shawn’s tilted his head, looking up at you in vague disbelief. “On the bus, before the show.” “I do,” you assure him. You have to grapple with the truth of what you’re about to say. “I just...I had no idea you did.” God, is that horrible? But Shawn doesn’t look upset. “Wasn’t that like, the day after we met?” You have to make a joke before a carefully controlled part of you freaks out. “I can barely remember what we ate yesterday.” It’s that you’re ridiculous face again. “Tims. I think your exact words were, timbits are a Canadian institution and if you don’t eat this, you’re no longer allowed to tell people that’s Toronto’s skyline on your arm.” It’s been a while since Shawn’s made you flush in embarrassment and endearment at the same time. You cross your arms, feeling petulant and silly. “I stand by that statement. We were about to leave the country for four months! I even gave you the last chocolate one. I can’t believe you almost gave it up.” “Yeah, and there was only jelly-filled left.” “You hate jelly-filled,” you remind him. Two can play the memory game. “So do you, Lenny.” Ava’s nickname, even teasing, is so strange coming from his mouth. This stalemate is a lot more loaded than a conversation about timbits ought to be, in your opinion. But Shawn is clearly trying not to laugh and you’re losing the fight against a smile. “Let’s go you two!” Mike barks from offstage. “If you think I’m setting up all this equipment by myself you’ve got another thing coming.” “Duty calls,” you say. The moment is broken and you can’t decide if you’re disappointed or relieved. “Shouldn’t you be rehearsing, superstar?” Shawn makes a face. ��You know I hate it when you call me that.” You just smirk at him. “Fair’s fair.”

toronto; then Hannah: So I have a surprise for you.  You: Ooh tell me. The tour left Montreal at sometime past midnight, arriving at a Toronto hotel at dawn. You and tech crew fall into bed to sleep for a few more hours while Shawn and Ava rise for an early morning interview. They pick you up in the tour bus and all you can think about is how this might be the last time you ever get to see it. Hannah wants to FaceTime. Slide to answer.  You scramble up from your bunk so fast you nearly hit your head. There’s only another few seconds to figure out if there’s anything revealing in the frame; thankfully it’s your phone instead of your laptop and only a blank section of wall is visible.  You can see Shawn on the couch on the far side of the bus, earbuds in, engrossed in his journal. You scramble to plug your own headphones in. You should be fine. Hannah’s smile is suspiciously normal, though her eyes give her away. 

“You know, I still can’t believe you got to bail on the last few days of school.” “I wouldn’t call getting an ear infection bailing, but fine.” You feel badly lying to your best friend, but it was Ava’s first condition: no one can know.  “Where are you?” Hannah asks, peering into her screen. You try not shift uncomfortably.  “Doctor’s office. Just getting the all clear.”  “Good timing.” She’s just bursting at the seams to tell you something, but you can’t help a coil of dread that twists in your stomach. “So you know who’s playing the Air Canada Centre tonight?” He’s like three feet from me. “No,” you say, feigning ignorance. “Who?” “Shawn Mendes, idiot! Remember, that guy you’re always trying to get me to listen to?”  “You–” You can barely choke out the words. “You have tickets to Shawn Mendes?” You don’t mean for your voice to crack – or project – like it does. Ava’s head jerks up from her desk right across the bunks. Paul, Shawn’s personal security, winces. Shawn’s pulled his headphones off with that classic, I just heard my name? look on his face. You clamp your hand over your mouth, which thankfully Hannah just takes as shock. Which it is. “Surprise! I’ve been dying of boredom since you’ve been gone so I finally just sat down and Youtubed him. He’s amazing! My mom got last minute tickets at her work in a raffle. The seats are shit but...”  Ava’s eyebrows are shouting at you, get off the phone and Shawn’s getting up. This whole thing is too hilarious; you can barely suppress panicked laughter. “Han, I’m sorry they’re calling me in. I have to go!”  “Okay, good luck! I’ll call you later with the details and we can meet there!”  You drop your phone.  “What,” you hiss, “the fuck?”  “Language,” your sister says, more automatically than with actual disciplinary intention. Shawn snorts a laugh. The absurdity gives way to horror. You bury your head in your hands and groan. “This can’t be happening.” Andrew is surely going to kick you off the tour for this.  “Don’t panic.” Ava clearly doesn’t share your concerns as she taps away at her phone. “Worse case scenario, you go to the concert with Hannah and then you go straight to her house from there. Saves me from having to drop you off.” No one says it, and you can’t either: the Winnipeg stop.  “At least the seats are awful.” You finally look at Shawn, and then wince. “No offence. I mean, it’ll be amazing from wherever.”  He laughs. “You’re trying to save this and it’s not working.” You exhale. “I’m just glad she doesn’t have a meet and greet package. Pretending I haven’t seen you live before is one thing. I don’t know if I’ll be able to fake having never met.” Shawn recoils dramatically. “Are you doubting my acting abilities?” It’s your turn to snort. Even though it’s only been a few days, the thought of missing him is an ache, so deep and wide you have to push yourself away from its edge. Please don’t let this be the last time I see you.   The bus pulls into the Air Canada Centre. You can’t move. As if on cue, Ava’s phone rings. “Oh Mrs. Marshall, so nice to hear from you! Mhmm, yes she’s feeling a lot better now.” Your sister sticks her head out the doors, and then nods at Paul.  “Ready you two?” he asks, and it occurs to you – like it had the first night you met Paul – that he could probably very easily haul you anywhere, whether you were ready or not. But as it stands, you sling your purse over your shoulder and nod. Keeping up with the strides of your bee-lining sister and two men who clear six feet isn’t easy, but there are no frenzied screams. You’re safe. “Of course, Elle would love to have dinner with Hannah before the show. I can just drop her off– oh yes, that’s perfect.” Ava ignores your attempts to disaster wave as everyone troops behind her through the arena. “She’ll see you at six. Great. Bye!” At your affronted expression, your sister rolls her eyes. “You’ll survive. But you’ll definitely need to change – you’re going to a concert, not the farmer’s market.” “My avocado shirt resents that!”  Shawn is smiling like he’s trying not to. “It’s a great shirt.” “See?” You gesture at Shawn and force down a blush. “The pop star approves.” “The pop star,” Ava says, pointing you both into the dressing room in the next hall, “wore khakis and Vans until Serena sorted out his wardrobe.” You and Shawn look at each other. You can’t decide whether or not you’re allowed to laugh, until Paul intones, “You’re gonna need some ice for that burn, kid.” Twenty-five minutes later, you’re in the room adjacent to Shawn’s, wearing the only dress in your poorly packed emergency travel bag, your sister’s leather jacket, a hasty smokey eye and lip gloss, and are trying (and failing) to fasten a third bracelet with your left hand.  “Need help?”  You whirl around to find Shawn, clearly ready. His hair is shinier, the curl slick, dark skinny jeans paired with a grey button down, rolled up to reveal his guitar tattoo and his watch. You have to blink to reconcile him with the Shawn from an hour ago, slouched in a hoodie into which he burrowed like a turtle. He blinks, like he’s doing the same.  Embarrassment feels like a default reaction at this point. “Um, yes. Please.” You meet in the centre of the room and you hand Shawn the small string of black marbles, holding out your wrist. “Thanks.” “Don’t thank me yet,” Shawn says. His fingers are warm on your skin in the room that is just a touch cold. Do not be weird. All you can smell is his cologne. The clasp doesn’t click at first; he swears under his breath and your stomach jumps. “Language,” you half-whisper, desperate to be rid of the butterflies. Shawn’s silent laugh shakes his shoulders. The marbles clink together.  “God El,” he mutters. “Stop that. This is precision work we’re trying to accomplish here.”  No one’s condensed the name you buried with your parents into one syllable before. Shawn finally manages the bracelet; for a moment he doesn't move and you take it to admire his swallow again. You wonder if it always looks like it’s in flight, if that’s why he put it on his hand, so it’s always in motion.  You want to ask him how you find home without a place, when most of the people who make up your home are gone.  “I’m amazing.” Shawn’s victorious grin as he steps back is so ridiculous you can’t help but smile back. “I should just call it a night right now.” “Please don’t,” you say. “Hannah would never forgive me for introducing her to your music if you bailed.” You pick up your bag and point at him. “And yes, I introduced her to you. Don’t let it go to your head.” You have no idea where all this sudden confidence is coming from. Maybe it’s just all the energy you’ve amassed from being stuck on a bus and in dressing rooms for hours at a time. Maybe it’s delayed reaction from the fact that you’ve just spent the last four days with one of the most famous teens in the world and you haven’t made a complete idiot of yourself. Or maybe, he’s as real of a person as you never let yourself believe before.  There’s so much you wish you could say to him, because this might be your last chance, but you can hear Ava’s shoes from down the hall.  “Thank you Shawn.” You can only smile and hope that’s enough.  “Wait, El–” He stops. “That’s okay, right?” You shake your wrist. The bracelet holds. You hold it up, but Shawn shakes his head. “I mean– El. It’s okay I call you that?” Your heart’s doing something strange inside your chest. “Of course it is.” You’re suddenly torn between laughing and crying. His smile is so wide it’s hard to take in all at once. “I’ll see you soon,” Shawn says, like he’s certain. You flash back to Ottawa. The gaping space without him is open beneath your feet. “Have fun.” Ava is making a we gotta go wave at you. So you let her pull you out of the doorway, and even though your last glance at Shawn is of him smiling, you pretend that that the look in his eyes is because he’s sad to see you go. * You meet Hannah on the steps of the arena. By some miracle you make it through dinner without falling apart and confessing to this whole wild charade. Security is tighter than you’ve ever seen at an event here; parents stick close to their merch-covered kids and teens and your heart aches a little. Hannah clutches at your arm, chattering in your ear. “I think my favourite is Ruin–” “Excuse me, girls?” You both turn to find a middle aged woman hand in hand with a little girl, who has two tiny clear tubes extended from her My Little Pony backpack to wrap around her face and nose. You jerk your eyes back up to the mother, afraid you’re staring.  “Clara and I had special passes to meet Shawn before the show but I’m afraid we can’t stay. Would you like them? We’re not–“ The woman’s smile wavers a little. “We’re not feeling too well. You can have our seats as well, if you’d like to be closer to the front?” You recognize the look on Clara’s face. She’s distraught, but clearly holding it together for her mother. You remember being close to her age. You remember seeing that face in the mirror. Your throat feels so tight that at first, you can’t speak. “Oh no,” you start, “We couldn’t–“ “Thank you so much!” If Hannah can read your horrified glare, she ignores it in favour of grinning brightly at the woman and accepting the pass from around her neck. Clara silently holds out hers to you; her nails are sparkling. You’ve never wanted anything less in your life. You’d never be able to look Shawn in the eye again. “What’s your name sweetheart?” Clara’s mother takes her daughter’s pass, pulling the card from its plastic case. She's looking at you expectantly, but there’s something soft in her eyes, a kind of motherly understanding, as though she can see how awful you feel.  “Ellie,” you manage. The woman just nods, scrawling something in pen on the back of the pass. She takes Hannah’s and does the same.  “There you go,” she says. You take yours automatically. “Just in case they give you any trouble at the doors.” Her expression is resigned, as though this is the best she can make of whatever situation she’s been given, but her sincere smile crinkles the corners of her eyes. You’re so ashamed of yourself that you can barely keep her gaze. “The tickets are in there too. Have fun, okay?”  “Thank you!” You stare at Clara’s backpack until she and her mom are swallowed by the crowd. “Oh my god Ellie can you believe–” “We shouldn’t have done that.” You’re a lot calmer than you thought. There’s a deeper, angrier reaction somewhere further down, but you can’t bring yourself to have a full blown fight with your best friend in the middle of a concert venue. “Han, they–” “They weren’t gonna use them! You heard her, Ellie. You were seriously ready to pass up an actual meet and greet with Shawn Mendes?”  You open your mouth, but Hannah has clearly had enough of this conversation, and turns her attention to the pass. “Oh my god, we only have ten minutes to get there! God, where are we supposed to be?” While Hannah flags down a passing security guard, you force yourself to take a deep breath. And another. Don’t deprive her of this chance just because you can’t bear the thought of seeing Shawn again. But that’s only the reason you’re using to coax your feet to follow your best friend; you can’t help but think that Clara deserves this more. You recognize the guard at the top of the dressing room hall, where a barrier’s gone up and teens and parents line up and peer down towards the room you left Shawn in not two hours ago. Your heart hammers, harder even than it did when you first met. Cameron’s eyebrows furrow as the other guard explains the pass swap; you make as subtle of a wave at Hannah and an I’m sorry as you can.  Cameron looks from you to Hannah, who eagerly thrusts her pass at him while the two girls Shawn’s just seen, flushed and giggling, make their way back up the corridor. You can see Paul now, standing outside the dressing room door. Cameron lets the other girls back through the barrier towards the main concourse hall. “Okay, go ahead you two.” Your steps feel like lead. Hannah is squeezing your arm so tightly it almost hurts. Paul’s surprise is – like most of Paul’s on duty expressions – almost imperceptible, but it’s too late for any sort of communication, because you’re in the doorway and Hannah’s practically pushed you ahead of her into the room.  Shawn looks up; some irrational part of your brain screams at you to run. You have no idea what you look like, but you feel trapped. You’re sure this is it. Hannah is going to find you out and everything will be ruined. Until he smiles, stands, and turns first to her instead of you. “Hi.” Hannah is very rarely speechless. Some distantly vindictive part of you is strangely smug to see her this way. “Oh my god, hi.” She goes to hug him and you look away instinctively, flipping over your platinum pass as Hannah proceeds to find her voice and explain her mother, the raffle and–  Plat pass for Ellie. Don’t let go of that big heart. – Alice  

“I just love your music so much.” “Oh thank you! That’s so sweet.” “I’m Hannah, by the way.”  “Hi Hannah, it’s so nice to meet you.”  Your best friend giggles – the kind of giggling she flirts with. Your stomach turns. “Someone just gave us their passes! Her daughter was sick. I still can’t believe it.” You can tell without having to lift your head that Shawn’s looking at you. Can he see your hand shaking? Can he see your guilt? The truth of what you’ve done slams back into your ribcage; Clara’s determinedly okay expression is burned behind your eyes. It’s hard to tell in the moment that if your secret didn’t entirely depend on your ability to fake enthusiasm, that if Hannah wasn’t standing right there, if you’d have let yourself cry.  You can’t remember the last time you cried.  You really need to stop letting the almosts be with him. “I’m excited for the show,” you blurt, grasping at the memory of Ottawa to keep you grounded. Shawn’s eyes are searching for something in your face. You can’t tell which one of you is currently worse at this ‘we’ve never met’ game. Panic squeezes in your chest.  Just keep pretending. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”  “I’m definitely real,” Shawn says, smiling not quite the way he had four days ago. From outside, Paul tosses a quick, perfunctory wave into the room. Time’s up. Shawn nods, but looks back at you. “I can even prove it.” Here at last is something you don’t have to fake. You’re not sure what to blame on the innocuous fact that you’ve never hugged Shawn. Both Ava’s sisterly concern and Andrew’s constant watchfulness flash through your mind. But you don’t have time to overthink it, stretching into the space Shawn leaves as he bends down to meet you. His cologne’s gone softer against all the perfumes and deodorants of everyone he’s probably already hugged tonight, but you can still catch traces of it. You want to close your eyes and squeeze a goodbye around his ribs, but you don’t. Shawn’s arms reach nearly all the way round your back and your waist; his hands slide down your elbows, dropping from your wrists as he pulls back. The marbles of your bracelet clink and go silent.  “Have a great time, guys.” Shawn’s smile sweeps from you to Hannah and it’s almost a relief. “Thank you for coming.” “Bye!” Hannah waves, her hand clamping around your arm like a vice, and you’re being dragged away from Shawn for a second time. You don’t look up to see his face. Hannah is practically vibrating beside you. She skips forward, hopping through the open metal barrier, but it swings shut before you can follow. “I’m sorry miss,” Cameron says when you gape up at him, his lips twitching on the last word. He has his hand to his earpiece. “I’m told you dropped something in the dressing room?”   Your face flames as people gawk. You hurriedly pat yourself down – bag, phone, rings– “I’m sorry, I don’t–” You don’t know he’s talking about, but Cameron just nods down towards Paul, who is beckoning you back. You’re tempted to bolt back to him just to escape the particular awfulness of public humiliation, but you manage a fast walk instead.  Paul just points into the room. “You have thirty seconds, Shawn.” Your eyes dart around: his jacket, his guitar, a water bottle. When they finally land on Shawn, you can only stare as he holds up your marble bracelet.  “How–” “I saw that look on your face,” he says. Now that you’re alone, you allow yourself to really look at him. It seems like concern in his gaze, almost urgent in its openness, but there no time to process it. “When Hannah said someone gave you those passes. I just–” Shawn’s mouth twists, a shadow of regret, as though he wants to say more. “I saw it.” Well that answers that question. “I didn't want them,” you blurt, feeling helpless against fear of his judgement.   ”Do you know her name?” Shawn asks, and you’re too dumbfounded to pull away when he reaches for your wrist and returns your bracelet. “The girl?” 

“Clara.” Shame presses tears into your eyes. You blink and blink and none fall. “She’s so little,” You say in a rush. “She had oxygen. Shawn, I–” “It’s okay, El.” He hasn’t let go of you yet. You don’t want to look at him, but you’re still powerless against his pull. You see the same soft smile from that very first night, when he was close enough to touch. “It’s okay.” “Time to go,” Paul says. You turn to leave; Shawn’s fingers catch on yours as he drops your hand. Paul looks down at you, his face seemingly as impassive as ever.  “Deep breath now, little one.” You force it. You can see clearly again. Paul nods, and you follow in his shadow back to Hannah, and hold up your wrist. “My bracelet fell off,” you tell her, loud enough that it’s audible to the girls still staring with something like vague suspicion in their eyes. “He just helped me get it back on.” It’s only a half lie. At least, you’re fairly certain.  Your best friend makes a noise that can only be described as a squeal. “God he is so sweet!” You move through most of the night on autopilot. It’s probably a credit to Shawn’s showmanship that you can, at least for a while, forget whose seats you occupy in the 100 section of the arena. After TNHMB, Shawn riffs a little on his guitar while the crowd waits with baited breath.  “So I’ve already met a ton of really amazing people tonight.” Hannah squeezes your hand as she screams. “But my team let me know that there was someone super special whose been in the hospital lately, and who really wanted to be here but couldn’t make it.” Your heart leaps up to your throat.  “And I thought, because Toronto has to be one of the most amazing cities in the world–” Shawn smiles when the crowd drowns him out. “We might all send this little girl some love.” He waits for the screaming to die down. “So Toronto, if you have a cellphone light, please pull it out. Clara, I don’t know if you’ll see this, but this is Never Be Alone, and it’s for you.” The tears make it hard to sing.  You’ve never asked Shawn about this, in the weeks and months since. No video recording captured it with clarity, but some people are sure that in the final measures of the song, as Shawn pulled out his earpiece and listened as he did every night, that there were tears in his eyes, too. * Four days later, you lay on your stomach on Hannah’s bed while her iTunes shuffles in the background. You’ve successfully stopped flinching every time Shawn’s voice floated through the speakers. Ava had dropped your bag off with a hug and an, “I’ll let you know.”  It’s half a fear of being annoying and half a fear of confirming your own disappointment that keeps you from texting her at all.  “Oh my god!” Hannah’s shriek nearly makes you drop your phone. “Look!”  She shoves her own phone under your nose. It takes a minute, but eventually you realize you’re looking at Shawn’s instagram story, where Hannah’s thumb has paused on a still of Shawn’s feet walking through a pristine white hall. surprising someone special!  She clicks forward; your hand flies to your mouth at the sight of Clara, looking even tinier than she had the night of the concert, sitting up in bed. Her shock and her tears as Shawn walks into her room, someone else recording now, takes your breath away. “I’m so jealous of this girl,” Hannah says. “Can you imagine getting to meet Shawn by yourself?” “She’s in the hospital, Han.” “I’d put myself in the hospital if I got to meet him.” Thankfully your phone chimes then, saving you from having to come up with a reply. Ava: Get somewhere private. Calling in two minutes.  Is it possible to have a nerves induced heart attack? “Ava’s calling,” you say, lurching to your feet. “I’ll be right back.” Hannah lifts her hand in a wave, engrossed in her phone again. You dash into the hall, down the stairs, and out the back door to the backyard, forcing yourself to sit on the steps of her deck.  Ava wants to FaceTime. Slide to answer.  You have to close your eyes for a moment before you accept. But it isn’t Ava’s face that focuses into view: it’s Shawn. Your mouth falls open as you look frantically around the yard, as if anyone else were here besides the squirrels squabbling on the back fence. You look back. He’s still there.  “Shawn?” It comes out a little squeakier than you’d have hoped. His grin stretches from ear to ear.  “El, hey! Busy?”  “Um, no?” You don’t have time to untangle your wilting, half-up bedroom hair. You don't even know if you can hold your phone up without shaking.  “Someone wanted to say hello,” Shawn says. You catch the blur of a white room as he passes the phone to someone else. Alice, leaning down to get her daughter in the frame, just smiles as you clamp your hand over your mouth.  “Hi, sweetheart.” Clara waves and you return the gesture with a trembling hand.   “That was a really wonderful thing you did,” Alice says, her eyes bright. “We just wanted to say thank you. It means so much to us. ” “Shawn did all the work,” you croak. “I’m a terrible singer.”  Clara giggles. You think you hear Shawn laughing just beyond the screen.  “Still,” Alice’s smile is fond. “He’s even better for having people like you in his life.” “Thank you,” you whisper, because you don’t know what else to say.  “I’ll pass you back now. Say goodbye to Ellie, Clara.” “Bye!”  You don’t even realize you’re crying until you can’t see them anymore.  “Oh no, El–” You wipe frantically at your eyes to find Shawn’s mouth downturned, his eyes apologetic. “I’m sorry, I never wanted you to–” “No!” You shake your head and let out a disbelieving laugh. “No, Shawn. Please, I’m fine. I’m better than fine. Thank you for this.” You try to push your reassurance through the screen. “You just made my whole week.” Shawn’s relieved smile makes your heart stutter. This boy is seriously going to give you a heart attack. “Good. I have a question, before I go. Av looks like she’s going to rip her phone out of my hand.” You snort. “Classic Ava.” Shawn glances off camera, and then back. He makes a face like he’s trying to be serious, and failing. “Do you have a raincoat?” The question takes a second to compute. “Do I have–? Um, yes?” You don’t know why it comes out like a question. Fucking hell, Ellie. “I have a raincoat.”  His grin fills your tiny screen. “Make sure you bring it to Seattle.” (part four)

[londone-fog]

Heart Songs- Reddie Genderbent AU

AO3 Link

In which Ellie is really confused, Ruth throws a party, Bea reads some stuff, Billie does some cool skateboard tricks, Steph is secretly cool, Beau is an amazing human, and Mack just wants to have a good time.

Also prom, sort of.

Notes: Hey guys, I'm back. I really hope you like this, because I've been working on this for a while now. If you have any questions about the AU or just in general, you can find me on tumblr at either cacti-cool (main account) or londone-fog (writing account). Have fun! Edit: I changed a few things. First off, the rating is now mature as there is a masturbation scene and some non-explicit sexual content in later chapters. Second, I changed the name of the fic, as well as the chapter names. Every chapter is named after a different Weezer song, as well as the fic name. I recommend you listen to the title song as you read the chapters! Thank you for understanding!

Part One- Rosanna

Ellie Kaspbrak was what you might refer to as “aggressively ordinary.”

She was an ordinary girl, from a little ordinary town, in the ordinary state of Maine. She lived in a small house with her dad. He had a boyfriend of sorts.

She thought of that one Monday morning, staring at her reflection in her vanity mirror. Her brown hair framed her tired face, eyes gaunt from lack of sleep. She fiddled with her hands, picking at the dry skin around her knuckles before looking around her room. Her light grey walls were decorated with a few sparse photos. Her furniture was wood, with a white floral bedspread pulled loosely over the twin mattress in the corner.

Ellie’s eyes stopped to look at the clock on the bedside table with a sort of anxious anticipation. It was 7:33. Her boyfriend would be picking her up at 7:45, like he did everyday.

Ellie’s boyfriend was a strange staple in her life. His name was Mason. He was a football player from the high school team, and therefore very large. If not for the constant workouts he underwent with the rest of the team in anticipation for the next season, he might have been obese. Ellie liked him well enough. He wasn’t particularly interesting; if Ellie herself was ordinary, then Mason was downright bland.

Suddenly, Ellie’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She held her breath, but was pleasantly surprised to see it was Ruth texting her.

Garbage Human: prey tell, my swellest el, is my contact name still garbage human in your phone

Ellie: Depends on why you’re asking.

Garbage Human: well i might not be so garbage anymore ;)

The text was then followed by a picture of Ruth standing next to a car. Well, car might have been too glamorous a word. It was a bright orange monstrocity on wheels, the paint sunbleached and peeling in places. One of the wheels was missing a hubcap. There was a long crack running across the length of the windshield. And finally, squatting near the front tire, was Ruth. Her curly, bobbed hair was pulled away from her face, large wire-framed glasses sitting on the end of her upturned nose. Her mouth was pulled into a mock-serious line; dangling from her fingers were the keys.

Ellie: Please tell me that isn’t a car.

Garbage Human: el you wound me

Garbage Human: yes that is my car her name is bessie

Ellie couldn’t help but nearly roll her eyes to the back of her head. Ruth was an interesting person. She was loud, with wild dark hair and even wilder eyes. Her mouth never seemed to close, even when she wasn’t talking (which was rare). She only seemed to wear clothes that had a pattern in some way, with cigarette smell clinging to every fibre. Her knees, elbows and palms were always riddled in scrapes and bruises from countless tumbles with her longboard. Yes, Ruth was very interesting.

It was anyone’s guess as to why they were each other’s best friends.

Garbage Human: i could start giving you rides now if you want

Ellie could practically hear the secret pleading in Ruth’s voice. The truth was, Ellie hadn’t seen her friends nearly as much as she used to. Since Mason and her started dating a few months back, it seemed like more and more of her time went to humoring her boyfriend; going to games and practices and movie dates. She missed their group of seven and the time they used to spend together. Especially when it came to Ruth. That was why she barely hesitated to type out her response.

Ellie: I guess. Just promise me I won’t end up dying in that thing

Garbage Human: you have my complete honor as a cub scout

Ellie smiled to herself; a small secret thing she’d never admit to. A sudden, loud honk from outside surprised her out of her moment, her spine straightening harshly. She looked out the window to see Mason sitting in his car, the same as every morning. Ellie sighed, gathering up her supplies and racing down the stairs.

Her father sat in his chair, the television nattering on in the background. He saw her, and motioned for her to come over.

Ellie and her father had a somewhat odd relationship. This was largely in part to Ellie’s mother dying when she was young, making her father somewhat… overprotective. Their relationship had become somewhat strained the older and more independent Ellie got. He didn’t like her being around boys, but he especially didn’t like her being around Ruth. He still to that day had no idea that she even spoke to Beau Marsh.

“Do you have your inhaler?”

“Yes, dad.”

Ellie didn’t actually need an inhaler. She’d known for a long time, since she was thirteen years old. Her father didn’t know that she knew, because Ellie had never brought it up to him. It didn’t just stop at the inhaler. He’d been trying to get her to take other bullshit medicine since she was small. Now that she knew better, she’d developed a complicated series of lies and sleight of hand to avoid taking the pills.

“You took your pills too, right?”

“Yup.” She’d taken them, alright. They sat heavy in the front pocket of her overalls, like a collection of riverstones. She could safely say that her father knew next to nothing about who she really was; his “little girl” was a facade created to keep her sane.

“Alright, sweetheart. Have a good day at school.” He leaned his cheek out, and she pressed a quick peck to the stubbled skin there.

Ellie didn’t breathe until she slammed the door of Mason’s car behind her.

“Jesus, you’ll break a window doing that, Ellie. What’s got your goat this morning?” Mason said, voice riding the line between scolding and whining.

“It’s just my dad. He’s been pestering me.”

Mason sighed, a patronizing little thing.

“You’re cute when you’re annoyed. He’s just trying to protect you.” He leaned over and placed a kiss to her cheek. Ellie resisted the urge to lean away.

They’d had the fight before; Mason believed that Ellie needed to be protected. She was small, she was skinny, she was feminine. Ellie knew that none of that was true.

“Mason, I need to ask something,” Ellie said quietly, car rumbling to life and pulling away from the house.

“Hmm.”

“I, uh…” She traced the outline of her phone through her pocket. “... well, my friend just got a car. And she lives closer to my house than you do-”

“Just spit it out, already.”

“Ruth is going to start giving me rides to school. It’s just… it’s more convenient, and I don’t get to see her as much as I used to.”

The car became deathly silent.

“So I’m taking up too much of your time? Is that it?”

Ellie’s fist clenched where is lay on her leg.

“I never said that. I just said that it’s more convenient for Ruth to pick me up in the mornings.”

“Why do you even want to spend so much time with her, anyway?”

Ellie looked away from the dashboard to her whitening knuckles, where a simple band of gold lay wrapped around her little finger. It was a ring that Ruth had given her on her sixteenth birthday, to replace the plastic cereal box ring that Ellie used to wear in childhood. It was the only jewelry that she wore everyday.

“Because she’s my best friend, Mason, and she lives closer to me than you do. Nothing more.”

The outline of the high school was rapidly approaching, and Ellie felt a little tension leak out of her body. Mason rubbed a thick hand over his face, letting out a long tired sigh.

“You know what, fine. Fine. On one condition.”

Ellie unclenched her hand slowly, quietly syphoning the air out of her body.

“What’s that?”

Mason quickly jerked the car into the parking lot, the sound of old soda cans clattering around the back seat as they pulled to a somewhat jarring stop. He pulled up the parking brake and rounded on Ellie with all the surprise of a tiger leaping from the bushes. He placed a meaty hand on her shoulder as if to keep her there, pinned, with no option but to listen to him.

“Go to prom with me.”

“What?”

“I don’t care who the hell gets you to school, as long as you say you’ll go with me.”

Ellie stared into Mason’s eyes, a nearly clear blue. Basically colorless, like looking through window and seeing absolutely nothing on the other side. Devoid of any personality or interest. She could feel her throat closing and her eyes sting, and she wondered briefly if she was going into anaphylaxis.

She wanted so badly to say no. She wanted to run out of this car and never come back. Maybe she’d just suffocate from anxiety right then.

“Sure, sounds great Mason.”

What the fuck am I saying? What is wrong with me? she thought as Mason leaned in and kissed her; it was sloppy and hit the corner of her mouth more than her actual lips. She quickly pulled away, muttering some sort of farewell as her feet hit the asphalt.

The parking lot was filled to the brim with students and shitty cars. Ellie kept her eyes to the ground, white knuckling the straps of her backpack as strangers hollered all around her. She only looked up when she heard the characteristic bark of her best friend’s laugh.

The loser’s club, as it had been known for years, consisted of the most ragtag group of teens that Derry, Maine had to offer. They all stood around Ruth’s new car, which was even more horrible in person. Billie Denbrough, their unofficial leader, was making a valiant effort to let loose with a would-be impressive string of cuss word from her place on the ground. Closer inspection showed a new hole torn in the knee of her jeans, with blood weakly dripping from the wound. Her trusty skateboard lay upended a few feet away. Ruth, as opposed to helping their friend, was laughing so hard she was nearly bent in half, black hair falling over her face. The other losers stood around in a sort of shell shocked state, not sure whether to help Billie or laugh along with Ruth.      

They all seemed to make up their minds the closer that Ellie got.

Bea rushed to check Billie’s knee, Mackenzie following with chuckle. Beau held out a hand, which Billie used to hoist herself to her feet. Steph stayed firmly in place, arms crossed with a stern look and secret smile in her eye. Ruth was practically on the ground herself at that point, Ellie’s shadow reaching across her as she approached.

“Ruth, you fucking idiot, what did you do this time?” Ellie asked, already rummaging through her bag for a band aid.

“Our darling Billie Jean can’t even do a kickflip without busting her ass,” Ruth said once she caught her breath.

“I c-c-can t-t-too, you a-a-a-fuck. I d-did this m-morning.”

Ellie shook her head, leaning down to press a bandage over the wound. If she’d been home, she would have dowsed it in hydrogen peroxide and used real gauze and bandage, but this would have to do. It was probably best, considering how dry and cracked her hands were these days.

“Thanks E-ellie,” Billie finally said.

And, at that, the bell for first period rang out, abruptly ending all shenanigans. Ellie slung her bag back over her shoulder, trying to ignore the itch under her skin from being so close to another person’s blood. Luckily, the thought was knocked out of her head by the slap of a hand against her shoulder.

“So, you seem tense. Did you have to flush yourself down the toilet to even get out of the house this morning?”

“Shut the hell up Ruth, I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

She didn’t have to look to know that Ruth’s permanent smile had faltered. Her hand went from a heavy weight to a soft comfort in a matter of seconds. In a rare moment of genuity, Ruth dropped her voice so only Ellie could hear.

“You okay, El? Is it your dad or…?”

“No, no, not really. Just kinda stressed out. And for the last time, stop calling me that. That’s a kid nickname.”

“Yeah, not happening. I know you secretly love it. You’ll thank me someday.”

She paused a moment to chew on her bottom lips, allowing a scarce ray of anxiety to shine through.

“You know what’ll make you feel better? I’m driving the losers to the quarry today, break in Bessie and all that. I know you’re probably busy with your boy toy, but you’re more than welcome to come.”

Ellie’s stomach dropped. She wanted so badly to see her friends, but she felt obligated to see Mason after everything that happened that morning. But one look at her friend’s face, and she knew where she should really be.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Ruth’s eyes lit up, and her mouth cracked open in a wide grin.

“Oh, Ellie-Belly, you won’t regret it. I knew you wouldn’t miss the chance to see my blinding white thighs.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, but allowed Ruth to throw an arm around her shoulders as they walked to class.

---

Ellie had never been a fan of spit.

She distinctly remembered the first time she’d had a panic attack. She had been about seven years old, and some boy in her class had decided it was the perfect time to let loose with a spit glob worthy of the gods. Unfortunately, Ellie had been standing near enough to be in the splash zone. It somehow was so much different than playing loogie at the quarry with with Billie and Ruth. This time, there was a wet splatter across the skirt of her jumper, and she lost it. Some combination her fathers instilled fear of germs and her own anxious tendencies brought about a cascade of tears and snot. It took a trip the restroom with both Ruth and Billie to get her to calm down enough to go back to recess.

Ellie thought of this as she sat in Mason’s car after school, his tongue making a valiant attempt to fight her tonsils.

This was an activity that took up much of her time after school. She’d never admit it to herself, but it was probably one of her least favorite parts of the day. Ellie genuinely struggled with physical contact; she’d gotten used to the losers touching her, but anyone else made her uncomfortable. Kissing Mason fell under the umbrella of uncomfortable.

Mason, on the other hand, was having a great time. Ellie was pushed further and further into the seat as he grew more and more eager. His hand was wrapped loosely around her thigh.

Ellie’s eyes opened, trying to look at the time on the clock and pretend she was interested in kissing. It was 3:24. School had ended nearly thirty minutes ago. The losers had all surely left to go to the quarry by then.

Suddenly, as if her mind had been read, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She slowly, carefully, reached her hand into her pocket to pull the phone out and held it behind Mason. The message was from Steph, saying that she needed to get to the quarry ASAP. Apparently Ruth wouldn’t stop complaining that Ellie had abandoned them.

Ellie’s mind was quickly snatched from the message when she the hand on her thigh move to cup her breast. She pulled away quickly, smacking Mason’s hand away.

“What? I thought you liked that.” he whined.

She didn’t like it. There was never a time where she said she did. Ellie tried to quickly think of an excuse.

“I, uh…”

“Come on, don’t be nervous.” Mason reached over and fiddled with one of the buckles on her overalls, trying to subtly unhook the button from the catch. An idea suddenly appeared in Ellie’s mind, and she pushed his hand away again.

“Uh, I’m wearing overalls.”

Indeed she was. They were her favorite pair, with the floral appliques on the legs that Steph had ironed on for her.

“What does that have to do with anything.”

“Well, uh, that would violate my rule.”

Ellie had the forethought when her and Mason started dating to put a rule in place: He was not allowed to touch her underneath her clothes, specifically when it came to pants.

“How’s that?”

“Overalls are like a shirt/pants combo. That breaks the rule.”

She could tell that it was a half-baked excuse, and Mason knew it too. His eyebrow was raised in confusion, but he relented and moved away. Ellie breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’ve been acting strange today.”

“No I haven’t”

Silence. Mason sighed, scrubbed at his face with his hand.

“Look, I have to do some conditioning today. You can either walk home or stay and watch. It’s up to you.”

Ellie resisted the urge to pump her fist in victory.

“I’d like to stay, but I have a lot of homework. Maybe tomorrow?”

Mason nodded, but Ellie was already out of the car.

She didn’t start running until she was sure he couldn’t see her anymore.

A genuine smile burst across her face as she pumped her legs. The air was beginning to warm, spring chill giving way to summer heat. The end of junior year was rapidly approaching, and the feeling of true freedom spurred Ellie on as she raced toward the quarry.