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harfanfare · 4 years ago

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How to win a heart of Jamil Viper?

1. Don’t be a typical hero(ine).

Contrary to the popular romance trope, tripping over the air to land on a certain cool-looking boy, and dropping all carried things, wouldn’t make Jamil fall for you. Instead, just falling because of you and sharply crashing with a floor would make him rather cautious around you and keeping a distance whether he has anything in his hands.

Believe him or not, he doesn’t need another ditsy and erratic person around him—like a certain leader from a certain dorm, who happens to create a mess anytime, anywhere.

So, let someone else be the protagonist of the story.

In that situation, you may be a side character that gets its way through obstacles and classic borders of story scheme and is much more interesting than the main persona.

That’s how you get his attention.

‎‎‎‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2. Be a help.

Oh, a person that would help him with his chores means to him much more than gold. Sometimes.

“Can I help you anyhow?” you asked when Jamil was going to the kitchen after a daily training with the rest of the dorm. He lifted his eyebrow, waiting for further explanation. “I mean with cleaning or something.”

Jamil glanced at you, not sure about your intentions.

Who would like to do something to help without having something in return? With only your will? No, it doesn’t work well in the same sentence.

But some help would be great. So, he just needs to keep sure that he won’t fall into any trap for letting you help, yes?

“Sure,” he said casually, not letting his face nor voice reveal any of his thoughts he run into. “[Name], right? Could you bring and clean the dishes from longue?”

And you helped. You really helped him a lot, staying over two hours till everything was shimmering with cleanliness and your abrupt desire to clean something and be more useful, burned out.

“Thank you for your help,” Jamil said, after correcting the last cushion in the Scarabia’s longue. You flashed him a smile. “But why, if I can ask, did you offer it in the first place?”

He got a quick response in form of a shrug.

“I... don’t really know,” you admitted, glancing at him. “...But you don’t complain, no?”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

3. Be his dish taster.

“The way to a one's heart is through his stomach.”

“Try it,” Jamil handed you a spoon filled with some kind of stew. You consentaneously your opened mouth and drank all content of the spoon. Your mouth filled with many flavours and you couldn’t be sure if you ever ate that good combination in your life. “How was that?”

“Excellent as always.”

You said it all sincerely and maybe would have asked for seconds, if not the fact that Jamil already turned his back to you and got back to pots. He took another spoon and tried the dish himself, clicked his tongue and added more salt.

Once again, he turned to you and handed you a spoon.

“And how was that now?”

“Excellent as always,” you chuckled as he frowned at you.

“Don’t you think that you should add more words to your dictionary? You say the same thing on every dish,” once he said that you finished drying the last plate and preparing silverware for today’s fiesta.

“Don’t you think that I won’t be able to eat anything at the party when I will eat enough of your cooking now to write a poem about each of your culinary masterpieces?” Jamil chuckled slightly at your words.

“So, you don’t want any more?” he teased, but inside he was really flushed. Praises or cajolery, it all makes his heart skip a beat.

Finally, there was someone who appreciated all work he’s done.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

4. Distract Kalim from him.

“You really shouldn’t go there,” you said, your voice as serious as you could keep it. “I mean, what if there is a monster who wants to kidnap you?”

Kalim cocked his head a little, considering your words. After a while, he nodded, fully convinced by your argument.

“You’re right,” he said. “I will warn others about this..!”

Kalim turned on his heel and spotted some people returning from morning classes. He ran to them, greeting them and walking with them as he tried to introduce the situation.

Still not believing Kalim fall for your words, you were standing alone in the centre of the corridor, a bit dumbstruck to discover the excuse Jamil came up with work.

“...Are you sure, you don’t want to tell him that some student’s from other dorm are here?” you asked as if saying to yourself your thoughts aloud.

But there was someone, someone who was hiding behind a big potted palm. He only gave you thumbs up as a preventative measure if there was still a chance that Kalim didn’t just dash through the halls to talk with some dorm students.

Jamil only looked at you and mouthed “No. Party. Today.” and quietly shifted to the corner, where the wall hid him and he could finally get up.

Mission accomplished.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

5. Get rid of bugs for him.

“[Name],” Jamil called out to you, bursting through the door to your room. He looked very pale and panic was staying still in his eyes. “Would you be so kind to... deal with an intruder?”

You frowned a little before biting back a sigh. At first, you were concerned. Even Kalim getting in a serious mess didn’t make him react that seriously. But then you remembered that there was one thing that could make Jamil call you out of nowhere, acting like in an emergency. Emergency only in eyes of few.

Bugs.

Jamil never admitted to you that he is scared of them, but every time you brought up the topis, he snapped his fingers at it, saying that insects just aren’t his favourite kind of animal.

“Hmm~ Maybe after I finish this chapter,” you said, conspicuously turning a page of the book you were reading and with all your will trying not to smile nor to look at the wincing expression Jamil was wearing.

“[Name],” he said, his voice shaking with anger or frustration. “Go there right now or I will make sure you won’t get today’s dinner.”

...No dinner?

“Yes, mum,” you said putting the textbook aside and getting up from the comfortable couch.

Of all people, Jamil is probably the only one—well, maybe also Trey—that could make those words sound dangerous. Like, no dinner made by the best chef in Scarabia? It would be pure agony.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6. Have competitions.

“Aren’t you a little too good in this game?” you asked, regretfully placing pieces of the game back to the initial places.

He gave you a smile that slowly turned into a smirk, as you groaned at the next round you have lost. You flopped on the big pillow, all your will to play destroyed, as you sank between really cosy material.

“I told you I won’t give you a head start,” Jamil said, his steady voice mixed with amusement. “You even told me that you don’t want me to go easy on you before the game started.”

“Too bad,” you clicked your tongue at his response. “I was sure that after watching you play with Kalim, I remembered your tactics.”

You’ve watched at least eight rounds of Jamil and Kalim playing this game, and when it was coming to end, you were almost sure you understood and remembered the technique he was using in certain situations.

But, to your disappointment, it looked like he – even without using any of his tricky cards in his sleeve – was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, because, after three moves, you knew that probably all three were wrong when the opponent was Jamil.

“You gained nothing by it. Of course, I lost to him or... there would be a trouble,” he exclaimed. “You are different.”

“Oh, thank you. I can lose but he can’t, huh?” you frowned at him as he almost choked on the surprise he felt by hearing your response.

“...Yeah, that’s it. Just it.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

7. Have study sessions together.

“One class had a test before us,” you said scrolling through your class chat group. “They said that there wasn’t any question about these dates.”

Jamil scribbled down years of the most important magic wars, from time to time looking at you who were listing some test exercises and feeling somehow unmotivated to even properly open a history book.

Your notebook was lying in front of you, today’s lesson topic on the top of the page and many detailed doodles on its margin.

Once again... what was the unit you are having an exam about?

“It doesn’t mean, we won’t get a question about that,” Jamil tried to convince you, sliding textbook your way. “Now, read that aloud, while I prepare notes.”

You blinked twice as if woken up from daydreaming. Were you daydreaming?

“Are you sure..? I mean, all I will do is reading. Wouldn’t you rather want us to read it silently and then share our notes after this?”

“Don’t think about it much. I really like your voice,” he said it so thoughtlessly you weren’t sure if said it as an unarguable fact or just his smooth talker abilities were showing off, “and gave me your notes for the last exam so we’re even. And you won’t do any good notes when you’re sulking over this exam like that.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

8. Remind him to take breaks.

“You won’t get out of here,” you exclaimed spreading your arms as shielding a door from him. “Not a chance.”

Jamil stood a feet next to you, grimace stretching on his lips as he knew what’s coming up.

“I have to go, [Name].”

He tried to get through you, lightly removing you of his way. He wasn’t a fan of using force on anyone, and he was a hater of using force on you.

Much more than a speakable argument, you were pushing each other closer or further from the door, having a staring contest and reciting all the things he had done in the past two days; except for his daily duties and with the upcoming birthday party of few students of Scarabia who happen to have a celebration in the same day, the number of tasks he was given was overwhelming.

“Stop it!” you protested, trying to push him back. “I am seriously worried about you! Please... take a break.”

Every time he was coming closer to the exit, you stepped back, blocking his way, bumping into him and having to try again.

“You know I have a lot of work to do,” he said, finally stepping back and giving you a break from trying to separate him from the door. “I can’t just give up all my duties, even if I would love a break.”

“I can do it for you,” you quickly offered. “But please, now, go to sleep and don’t you dare touch anything related to school or cleaning.”

...What a weird request.

When was the last time anyone told him to take a break?

He doesn’t remember.

But now, he can say it was recently, all thanks to you.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

9. Promise.

It was really hard for him once all his hard work to keep a high position within the dorm students suddenly dropped after his overblot accident.

“[Name]...”

However, the thing he regretted the most was hurting you. Taking the whole dorm under his unique magic spell, the hypnosis also affected you, making you another servant of his. Even you weren’t the one he ordered a lot, you felt betrayed that even the friendship you two developed didn’t stop him from overblotting.

And if he knew that you would avoid him like fire after the accident, he would probably hesitate a lot.

His throat tightened as he saw you one day in the corridor, looking somehow lonely and tired. He dashed to you, beseeching you to talk to him.

“Sorry for asking, but, Jamil, you don’t hate me, right?” you asked with a pain in your voice. You couldn’t even look at his face, feeling the incomprehensible weight in your gaze. “I mean... Do you only act in front of me friendly? ...Like... with Kalim..?”

“No, no, no,” he protested quickly, making it almost sound like a plea. He gently grabbed your hands, praying that you won’t harshly jerk them back because of him. “I don’t hate you. I really like you. I mean every word I said to you.”

The feeling of release struck you like thunder, you took a big breath, your eyes watering. You slowly reached for his touch, finally ending in a hug.

Jamil ran his fingers through your hair, smelling a familiar, reassuring scent of yours. After a while, he whispered a question.

“So... could you please not avoid me anymore? I know it will be hard to bring up the same relationship we had, but... could you give me a second chance?”

“Okay. But under one condition,” you said, slightly backing off from him. Before he could wonder about the term you would require from him, you finished your thought. “You must be honest with me. I... don’t know what will I do if it all turned to be a play...”

“I will,” he replied, putting his whole heart in these two words. “I will always be honest with you. And won’t ever use my unique magic on you.”

You looked up at him, a small smile starting to rise and heart-throbbing more wilder with his words. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

10. Make him confess.

“What are you doing this weekend?”

Jamil appeared in front of you, almost like popping out of nowhere, as you were done with today’s lessons and slowly heading to your dorm. He caught up with you, changing his pace to match yours.

“I have no plans. I will be probably sleeping or something,” you answered honestly, shrugging and reminding yourself that you should finally hang out with some people from your class to make sure your social life isn’t all over dead.

You were walking in quietly before Jamil broke silence and spoke up again.

“Would you like to go somewhere?” he asked his voice only giving a hint of nervousness—it was nothing compared to the stress he felt inside. It was just a “yes or no” question, he knew that he will meet in future many amazing people like you and shouldn’t be stressed, but having someone so dear to him being asked for a meeting where he will try to finally out find his feeling... it is stressful.

“Hehe~ what, are you asking me on the date?” you teased, but much more than mocking, you were hoping for an answer. For the honest answer, he promised you.

“...And what if I am?” he asked, his voice a bit hushed, but steady.

You felt how heat was coming all the way up to your cheeks, although you tried your best not to let anything more, as if a blush wasn’t obvious enough, know how excited and spellbound you are.

“Then, your wish is my command.”

#.......i don't know how to feel about this #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #twst jamil #twst jamil x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland jamil x reader #twisted wonderland

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lynn0x1 · 3 years ago

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Soulmate au

(soulmate!Renjun) (NCT)

Summary: long story short you have the cutest soulmate who is nervous to meet you

cw: mild-ish swearing.

genre: fluff

word count: ~1.7k words

a/n: this was one of the better fanfics i wrote a few years ago that i have decided to finally post. Not my best work but i still like it. Hope you enjoy!

Alright so obviously there are many ways you’re “connected” to your soulmate

But you didn’t know how the heck you and your soulmate were connected

No marking on your arm, no colour you couldn’t see, which were the most common soulmate connections

Nothing!

You even tried the more obscure soulmate connections

STILL NOTHING

You were disappointed -of course- upset cuz like what if you don’t have a soulmate?!

Eventually you let go of the idea of not having a soulmate and worried about other important things, like how not to stress over your assignments

Until one day

You were running to class not paying attention to your surroundings

When you bump into someone they quickly apologised and ran to their class cuz they were late too

Jeno came over to help pick up the things you dropped

You quickly thank him and run to your class.

Class was really boring so you decided to doodle on your arm not thinking very much about it

[Reader you need to focus on lessons]

On Renjun’s side

OUR LITTLE JUNNIE IS PANICKING

like wHEN DID THIS HAPPEN???HE’S BEEN TRYING SO HARD TO FIGURE OUT HIS SOULMATE BOND

AND AS SOON AS HE JOINS A NEW SCHOOL

BAM

Renjun was trying to recall moments before it happened

He bumped into someone running while he was trying to get to class too

He would have helped you pick up your things buttttt he was running late for class

Renjun was freaking out so much he didn’t know how to respond

During lunch you kinda just sat by yourself because

1) you barely have any friends (the only friend you actually have are the Dreamies minus Renjun but they always sit with their soulmates and you feel like a fifth wheel :[ )

2) you kinda liked being alone from everything

That is until Jaemin and Haechan drag you towards their table

You reluctantly sit there but you noticed Jaemin’s soulmate wasn’t here

⚬ „Where’s Jeno?” You asked

⚬ „He said he was helping a new kid named Renjun with something I think.” Mark said.

New kid? You thought

⚬ „Which is why I dragged you here so I wouldn’t have to be lonely.” Jaemin said playfully.

You lightly smacked Jaemin’s head.

⚬ „Oww” he rubbed his head.

⚬ „I wonder if Jeno felt that,” you laughed

Renjun also feels a lil sad

Because he really loves the idea of soulmates and always wanted to know who his soulmate was

And now he does! But he’s scared to meet them

What if they hate him? What if they don’t get along with him?

[No one could ever hate you bby :( ]

He notices Jeno (a childhood friend) flinching and rubbing his forehead and laughs

Someone *coughyoucough* flicked Jaemin’s forehead and Jeno felt it

⚬ „You think I’ll be able to find my soulmate soon?”

⚬ „Maybe.. you should just ask them to meet you. YOU HAVE THE SIMPLEST SOULMATE CONNECTION EVER.”

but poor Renjun was scared.

Meeting someone you’d have to spend the rest of your life with? At this age? Even if they’re supposed to be perfect for you its still terrifying

The poor boy could only sigh

You went to class and it was pretty uneventful for the rest of the day

Until your teacher told you about an English test coming up in a week

you were not prepared at all

Off to the school library you go

face practically buried into your notes and textbooks

Didn’t even notice Renjun taking a seat next to you

He didn’t pay much attention to you either

Like yeah he saw you

He actually recognised you as the person who bumped into him earlier

Yeah he thought you were kinda cute in your hoodie and how your notes were like an inch away from your face

But he’s stressed with assignments.

[What a mood]

After awhile he noticed a small drawing appear on his arm

Just a small cute face which made him giggle

RENJUN GIGGLING

At the corner of his eye he noticed

you got bored and started doodling on your hand

He wondered if he should write back to his soulmate

After awhile Renjun says screw it and drew a heart

Still not knowing about your soulmate bond you were pretty shock

[Pretty shock is an understatement]

You jumped a little in your seat

Renjun saw this happen, and he lowkey highkey thought you maybe his soulmate

But the boy was too nervous to actually try and confirm it

While he was having an internal monologue in what to do

You wrote on your arm, ‘can you see this?’

Very excited to see a response

Renjun sees you writing on your arm

He sees something else appear on his arm

And he just nopes out of the library

He’s too shy to confront you so he runs home

You on the other hand was pretty bummed that you didn’t get a reply

But you pushed it aside for a moment to focus on your work

Once you finished reviewing your notes you decide to go home

Your mind was still on your soulmate

Like !!! Finally knowing your soulmate connection? after years of wondering and testing? It felt very unbelievable.

But you were still doubtful that a heart actually appeared on your arm. Because you were pretty tired and you could have just been imagining things you know?

Meanwhile Renjun was stress texting Jeno:

Renjun: I THINK I FOUND MY SOULMATE

Jeno: Oh did you talk to them?

Renjun: Kdjajsaj, no,,,,

Jeno: WHY TF NOT?

[He was just scared Jeno (￣^￣)]

Renjun, Jeno and Jaemin decided to meet up at a cafe

Renjun starts spilling his heart out about how he found his soulmate and oh my god they were so cute and how he is so not ready to confront them and jsjsjak

Jeno kept teasing him

Jeno notices Jaemin’s unusual silence since he would have been so excited and teasing Renjun but he’s just looking at his phone smiling

WELL THAT'S BECAUSE YOU PANICKED TEXTED JAEMIN ABOUT THE SOULMATE BOND

But when Jaemin hears Renjun say something about drawing a heart on his arm

He sees your text and puts two and two together

Jaemin just smiled even more because two of his closest friends were soulmates!!!

But he realised based on your text that you didn’t know it was Renjun and both of you haven’t even met before

So he comes up with a plan with the other dreamies the day after

[more like Haechan came up with a plan]

The dreamies were still trying to and failing at making you realise Renjun was your soulmate over the course of the week

You were a little oblivious to their scheme

And totally not because they keep coming up with over the top plans that never go as planned.

Although you did notice XiaoJun and Lucas trying to drag someone towards you while you were talking to Chenle

The dreamies were frustrated

Jaemin and Haechan have science with both of you

There was a pair work project

Before your teacher let you all pair yourselves up Jaemin just doodled all over your arm

⚬ „Jaemin,,,, I need my arm back”

⚬ „no you don’t”

⚬ „JAEMIN”

You were about to pair up with Jaemin when he aBANDONS YOU

⚬ „hey Jaemin wanna pai- JAEMIN”

Too late he’s with Haechan

The only other person left was Renjun who was supposed to pair up with Haechan

⚬ „I DON'T KNOW ANYONE ELSE IN THIS CLASS DONGHYUCK”

⚬ „what about them? I don’t think they have a partner”

Jaemin and Haechan are lowkey highkey fan boying when Renjun walks up to you

He recognised you from yesterday

Out of pure panic he looked back at Haechan and Jaemin who they are giggling

He realises what they did

Que mental breakdown

Just as he was about to ditch class so that he doesn’t need to confront you about it

JAEMIN CALLS YOUR NAME SO YOU LOOK BACK

and low and behold Renjun is standing right behind you

⚬ „oh hi! no partner too?” You asked

⚬ „uh yea”

Renjun is fiddling with his hoodie sleeve

You smile and point to the seat next to you

⚬ „have a seat! My name’s (y/n)”

⚬ „thanks, I’m Renjun.” He said softly still fidgeting with his hoodie sleeve.

After your teacher explained your project you both decided to meet up after school in the library

And the day went on

During lunch you sat with Mark, Chenle, Jisung and Jeno because Jaemin and Haechan had “errands” to run

Meanwhile Renjun was being yelled at by Jaemin and Haechan

⚬ „WHY DIDNT YOU JUST TELL THEM?” Jaemin facepalms

⚬ „I PANICKED. ALSO I SHOULD BE THE ONES MAD AT YOU FOR DOING THIS.”

⚬ „YOU SHOULD BE THANKING US.” Haechan retorts

And their argument just went on and on until lunch was over

After school, you met up with Renjun

Y’all discussed your project and helped each other find info if you couldn’t

Renjun was lowkey checking out how cute you were

Like sweater paws and kinda messy hair

Just adorable

[Reader I will hug you to death]

So now Renjun is kinda flustered but still helps out with the project

Surprisingly you guys finished a lot more of the work than you thought you would

You felt a little tired from all the work so decided to take a small break

Renjun was still writing somethings down so he didn’t notice you

However you did notice the squiggles that Jaemin drew on your arm on Renjun’s

And it clicked

You kinda panicked a little.

Like holy shit

This cute and kind new kid is your soulmate

DOES HE KNOW???

Renjun finished whatever he was writing and noticed you staring at him

Well specifically at his arm with his sleeve rolled up

So now he knows you know the he is your soulmate

He thinks about what to do

Until you just picked up your pen and wrote Hi on your arm

Sure enough the same Hi appears on his arm

So long story short you guys talked about being soulmates

⚬ „So Jaemin knew this the whole time?”

⚬ „...yes”

⚬ „that little- and you knew how long?”

⚬ „Uh about a week”

⚬ „WHAT?”

⚬ „I WAS NERVOUS TO TALK TO YOU”

⚬ „you’re lucky you’re cute...”

And that’s the story on how you found your cute soulmate

#nct x reader #nct #nct dream #nct fanfic #nct dream x reader #nct dream fanfic #nct scenarios #nct aus #nct au #nct dream au #nct dream renjun #nct renjun #huang renjun #renjun #renjun x reader #renjun x y/n #nct dream fluff #kpop x reader #kpop

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sunlight-moonrise · 5 years ago

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Sugar, Spice, and Everything (Not So) Nice (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Being a Barista and falling for a regular is as cliche as it gets. Having that customer become your new professor? Not so much.

A/N: *Peeks head out* Hello everyone. I have come back from my unannounced hiatus to show off this baby. Major thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog and @clean-bands-dirty-stories for helping me put this fic together. This was written for the lovely @httpnxtt for the secret-fic-swap in the Discord (thanks @imagining-in-the-margins.) I hope you all enjoy this smutty goodness.

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Face Slapping, Degradation, Slight Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (male receiving), Fingering, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex/Creampie

Word Count: 6.4K

Masterlist

Being a barista is pretty awesome. Sure, there were bitchy customers and super early mornings but it had it’s redeeming perks. We got free coffee, tea, and snacks during our shifts, which served the caffeine addict in me. I also learned how to make popular lattes, mochas, and frappes that I ended up making at home for myself one too many times. While there were the occasional assholes who couldn’t appear human before getting their hands on some caffeine, there were the regulars who made it worth it. Most of the regulars were so sweet, I appreciated a familiar face when they came in. Some.. more than others.

“He’s baaaaaaaaack,” my coworker Hazel whispered to me in a sing-song voice as she scribbled a customer’s name on a cup. I turned to see who she was talking about, but I already had an inkling about who it was.

My suspicions were correct. I turned to see one of our kindest regulars, my personal favorite customer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Is it weird to know the full name -including the honorific- of a customer? Possibly. But when I’d asked for his name to write on his cup the first time he came in, he accidentally gave me his full name.

“Dr. Reid- uh, Spencer. Sorry, work habit.” He stuttered, avoiding my eyes after the mistake.

“No worries! What can I get started for you?”

As a Criminology major, I learned to study the people who catch my attention before indulging them. Call it an old habit.

Dr. Spencer Reid had earned his title and then some. He’d joined the FBI at only 22, having six degrees under his belt by the age of 27. He’d written several dissertations and co-wrote novels with his colleague, David Rossi. Someone with his reputation could be a pompous ass and have a leg to stand on, which is what made his humbled demeanor so much sweeter. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which was a nice little bow on top.

Hazel liked to joke about how we’d make a cute couple but I know she only did it to watch me get flustered.

I walked towards the counter to take his order, leaving Hazel with the task of refilling the caramel syrup. I’m always the one to help him since he very aptly pointed out that I’m the only one who makes his coffee just how he likes it.

Some days, he’d let me surprise him with a random creation. I’d confirm if he wanted caffeine (he always did), iced or not, and any flavor requests. He’d take his drink, tip me handsomely and let me know his thoughts on the drink the next time he came in. So far, his favorite was the almond milk honey latte I’d concocted. It was nice to have a little bit of fun, especially with regulars who were as consistent as him.

“Hey Doc, what can I get ya’?” I asked.

“The usual, please,” he said with a smile. I nodded and set off to make his drink: a venti dark roast with a shit ton of sugar, a dash of nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.

“Of course!” I quickly go to fill his order, making sure to put a complimentary treat in a bag for him. I know he had the ultimate sweet tooth so I try to sneak him a confection whenever I can. At first, he was a bit reluctant to take the free pastries, but nowadays he usually smiles when he sees the small bag.

“Here ya’ go.” I handed him his steamy cup of caffeine along with the little treat, seeing him smile at the small pun I add to his cup, “Have a BREW-tiful day, Doctor!” I watched as his lips landed on the rim of the cup, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the sight making my cheeks promptly flush. I cleared my throat before asking, “Is it good?”

“It’s always good when you make it,” he stated matter of factly, a small smile touching his lips. The heat in my cheeks rose again. “Will you be taking a course this summer?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. My first day is actually later today. I’m surprised the class section was open, to be honest.” Super surprised actually. I’d been trying to enroll in this class for the past couple of semesters but it was always full by the time I was able to even load the registration page.

“Well, I’ll wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I can just tell.” He stated calmly, like it was common knowledge. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Before he could respond, an insistent cough caught both of our attention. I peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see a customer waiting for his order to be taken. I turned my attention back to the Doctor, an annoyed look painted on my face. He nodded, taking a hint from the impatient mouth breather behind him.

“Thank you for the coffee. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope that class goes well.”

“Bye, you too.” I waved, watching as he exited the door. I turned to the waiting customer, a bit miffed that he interrupted our conversation. But because I was at work, I plastered a fake smile on my face so that he wouldn’t see just how annoyed I was. “Welcome, how may I help you?”

●●●

After clocking out at 2:30 PM, I made a dash for the building where my class would be held. It’s not supposed to start for another half-hour, but I wanted to be sure to get there in time to choose a good seat and settle in before the rest of the class arrived.

Luckily room 301 was relatively empty so I was able to score a perfect seat by the window. I decided to kill some time by listening to some music and doodling randomly in my notebook. Some time had passed when I felt someone take the seat next to me. I turned to see a young man occupying the chair beside mine. He looked to be a frat boy based on the Greek letters he was sporting. Who wears a cap and hoodie in this weather? I really hope he didn’t expect to cheat off of me- although these types of guys always seem to do so.

I was about to return to my doodle when I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned to give the offender my full attention, removing one of the earbuds from my ears.

“Hey, I’m Tony,” frat boy said, with a wide smile adorning his face. I must admit, his boyish grin melted the slight annoyance I had begun to stir toward him. I returned his greeting and introduced myself as well. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he continued, “but I like to have at least one buddy in each of my classes. In case we need help or miss an assignment or something.”

I nodded my head - a friend in a class was always useful when it came to studying and swapping notes. We chatted a bit more, learning about each other’s major and why we both decided to take a summer course. Tony is a double major and this course will satisfy the credits he needs for his psychology requirement. This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

It wasn’t until I heard the hush of the classroom that I realized the class was about to begin. I turned back to my notebook, preparing to jot down some important information despite it being the first day of class.

“Good morning class.” Wait. That voice... I didn’t even need to pick my head up to know who had spoken. “This is Criminal Psychology and I am your instructor, Doctor Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe could not cover this course so I’ll be his permanent replacement. Now…”

I raised my head, watching as he continued to talk about what is to be expected in this course while a TA handed out the syllabus. He went on, able to capture the attention of everyone while speaking of the experiences he had with an array of criminals. His eyes scanned the room and for a brief moment I thought they would land on me, but they continued to take in the mass amount of students before him.

My concentration was broken by Tony passing me a copy of the syllabus. I scanned it over, making sure to highlight all the important dates. I didn’t want any exams or projects conflicting with my work schedule. I also made note of how the overall grade system is broken down. The whole thing seems pretty fair and everything was spaced out enough where I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed with the workload.

“… and that pretty much wraps it up. Does anyone have any questions?” I tuned in just as he was pulling the first class to a close. No one raised their hands, so he dismissed us with a reminder to read the first chapter of the textbook and to check for any emails.

“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tony asked from beside me. I contemplated whether or not to go with him. He must have seen the hesitation in my face because he quickly added, “Not as a date or anything, I just wanted to grab a bite and I didn’t want to do it alone.”

“Sure,” I smiled, “Let me just ask the professor a quick question about his office hours and I’ll meet you at the food court.”

“Sweet, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Tony gathered his stuff and exited the back door.

I focused my attention on the podium, seeing a gaggle of girls surrounding him asking redundant questions. From what I could hear, their questions could have been answered if they’d read the syllabus. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, they were probably more focused on him rather than what he was saying during class. I waited a few more minutes for them to finish up before I made my way to him.

“So do I call you Doctor or Professor now?” I laughed.

“From you, I’d respond to either,” he replied warmly. The comment made me blush. If he looked into my eyes at that moment, he’d see more stars in them than the night sky. I bit my lip to stop the idiotic grin from spreading across my face.

He’s your professor, get a hold of yourself.

“How can I help?” he asked, bringing me back to the original reason as to why I was standing in front of him without a cash register between us.

I cleared my throat. “Um, I was wondering if it was possible to see you outside your normal office hours? I usually work the morning shifts and I don’t want to flood your emails with my questions.” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “You can come to my office at whatever time works best for you. I know balancing a work and school schedule can be hard. Besides, I’m usually there handling paperwork anyway.” He gave a small shrug, pushing his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you so much. I look forward to the rest of the semester Professor Reid.” I liked the way his newfound honorific rolled off my tongue.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Professor.” With that, I left and headed out to meet Tony.

I was able to find him at the food court. We got some food and chatted more about our classes as well as life outside of school. He made it easy to be his friend, and it was nice having someone to talk to. He works as a waiter so we shared our customer service horror stories and tales of sneaking food at work. It was a nice distraction that took my mind off of Dr. Reid and the ongoing battle of calling him Doctor or Professor. As Tony rambled, my mind wandered about other things I’d like to call Spencer instead.

●●●

In that short span of two weeks, we already had an exam, an oral presentation, and a report on the psychoanalysis of serial killers. Not one day had been wasted, but this is what to be expected from a summer course. The essay was due the day before. Now we had to wait for our grades which gave us a moment to take a breath.

I was worried that my paper was subpar; especially since I chose to write about Andrei Chikatilo, a serial killer from Ukraine. He wasn’t as popular as those in America, so I ended up spending hours on deep research to find substantial information about his crimes. It also didn’t help that some of the original reports weren’t in English. I had worked hard, and hoped Professor Reid would see that, even if my writing could sometimes be a little weak. I was worried about the grade as our research papers held the weight of 20% of our final mark.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Anyone in there?” Hazel’s voice pierced through my worry bubble, her hand waving in front of my face. I shook my head, trying to focus on restocking the coffee beans.

“Sorry Haze, I’m thinking about this class.”

“Funny you say that; your favorite professor just walked in. Thought you might want to take his order.” She wagged her brows at me, making kissy faces as I hurried to the front register, trying my best to not let my eagerness be so glaringly obvious.

There he was, in his usual handsome glory, patiently waiting for me to take his order. He greeted me with a small smile that I happily returned.

“Hey Doc, what can I get you today?”

He debated for a moment before saying, “Surprise me.”

“Gotcha.” I already had an in my head; it’d been a while since he asked me to make him a random drink so I’d had plenty of time to plan. We got an early shipment of ingredients for our fall-themed drinks and I figured he would appreciate some pumpkin spice in his caffeine. “How are the papers coming along?” I asked casually as I rang him up.

“Pretty well. I’m almost done, so you’ll all receive your grades later today.” Wow, that was fast. I wondered if he stayed up reading all those papers to be done by today. Probably not, a TA must have helped him.

“I am a bit nervous about mine, especially since it’s worth a huge part of our final grade.” I really wanted to get an A in this course, but it was hard juggling everything in such a short amount of time.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he reassured. “I haven’t properly finished yours yet but it looked great just from what I’ve seen thus far.” His words gave me a little reassurance.

“Thanks. I put a lot of effort into it. Let me grab your coffee now.” Spencer walked towards the pick-up station while I grabbed a venti cup for his drink. Just when I was about to make his order, I saw another familiar face come up to the register. “Tony, hey!” I shouted, placing the cup back down, “What can I get you?”

This was the first time he’d been here, despite him saying for the past few days that he’d stop by for a visit, even with the promise of a cake pop if he did. It was nice to see another familiar face.

“Hey coffee girl, how you doin’ today?”

“Just peachy. My feet are killing me, though.” Just saying the words caused the ache on the soles of my feet to spike higher. I thanked my lucky stars I was almost done with this eight-hour shift.

“Give me the chance to sweep you off your feet, I promise you won’t regret it.” he offered boldly. It wasn’t the first time he’d joked about taking me out. I laughed, especially since he had a girlfriend. She met us for lunch one day and we became fast friends- she was an incredibly sweet and intelligent girl, polite and elegant as well. It is a wonder how his frat boy charm won her over but opposites attract, I guess.

“Shut up, Casanova. What are you gonna have?”

“I’ll have a grande iced matcha latte, please.” I should’ve known. He told me that he loves matcha flavored food and drinks the first time we grabbed lunch after class. He had complained that there was no good place to get one on campus.

“Coming right up.” I quickly filled his order since it was faster to make compared to the pumpkin spiced latte. I handed him his bribe-cake pop, matcha flavor of course, while he waited for me to finish making his drink.

“By the way, we’re still studying at the library for the exam later tonight, right?” Tony asked.

“Yup, I’ll meet you at 8.”

“Copy that, see you later coffee girl.” He turned to leave while I turned to make Professor Reid’s order. I put extra whip cream and a bit more syrup to satiate his sweet tooth. I grabbed a fresh chocolate muffin from the display case and popped it into a bag for him as well, drawing yet another pun on the good doctors bag. “Thanks for being such a TEA-rrific professor!”

“Here ya’ go Doc,” I called out before placing his drink and muffin on the counter. I looked up to see him no longer smiling. “Is everything okay?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “I wasn’t aware you were so close to Mr. Montgomery.”

“Oh yeah, we study together once in a while.” I could have sworn I saw his frown deepen before his features became void of any emotions. He shifted his eyes downward, his hand moving rapidly to grab the cup.

“I should get going.”

“Oh, okay” Before I could say goodbye, he was already halfway out the door.

That was weird. I looked at the counter and noticed that he left the cupcake behind. Maybe he was in a rush?

I shook my head. I needed to concentrate on making it through the last couple of hours of work.

●●●

I made my way to the classroom, smiling at Tony as he pulled out my seat for me. Professor Reid walked in a few minutes later, his tall figure drawing all the attention to the center of the small stage. He let us know he already graded the papers and that they would be distributed by the TA before the end of class. I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but decided to brush it off and pay attention in class. Despite my attempts to focus on his lecture, I found my mind wandering every so often anyway.

I couldn’t help but think he was less animated today. Usually, he taught with such passion that the class couldn’t take their eyes off him. But today, it felt as if we were all in a boring seminar with an ancient professor. Tony kept glancing at the clock, probably also wondering why time felt like it was going by so slowly.

I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling the entire class. It didn’t help matters that every time I would raise my hand to answer a question, he would call on another student. What the hell did I do?

I decided to tune out the rest of the class. There is no point in being an actively engaged student if I wasn’t going to get treated like one. I’d just get the notes from Tony later.

Thirty minutes before the end of class, the TA handed out our essays while Professor Reid wrapped.

“Some of you did very well, while a few others struggled with the assignment.” His eyes landed on mine as he said that. It was the first time he had glanced in my direction the whole class. He moved on to the other side of the room. My mind was probably just playing tricks on me. “If you have any questions you can see me at my office hours next week or send me an email. You are dismissed.”

The TA finally made his way over to me, handing my essay in a slight fold. I looked at the grade on top and almost dropped the paper. My heart sped up as I stared at the letter in bright red ink. No way, no way this could be my report. I looked at the right-hand corner and saw my name at the top. I read through the first page and saw they were indeed my words.

How the fuck was it possible that I got a D on this paper? I knew my writing wasn’t the strongest, but a D?

“How you’d do?” Tony asked. For a moment I forgot I was in a room with other people.

I cleared my throat, trying to relive the lump so that he didn’t hear the croak in my voice. “Umm, not what I expected. I’m going to try to speak to him about it.” Tony was a smart kid, so I was sure he could see how tense I was. Luckily he didn’t question me any further and instead told me he’d text me later before leaving the classroom.

Fortunately, there were no other students in the classroom to slow me down this time. I walked right up to the podium, watching as Professor Reid placed some papers in his satchel.

“Professor, I need to speak with you.”

“Not now, I’m busy,” he replied, not even bothering to glance in my direction. This can’t be real. The sweet, kind Doc could not be the man acting like a total asshole right now.

“I really need to discuss with you my paper,” I pressed, raising my voice a little louder in an attempt to get his attention. That was wishful thinking on my part since he continued to fiddle with his satchel.

“I said I’m busy,” he uttered once again, his voice void of any emotion. He was about to walk past me, ignoring my whole being. His blatant disregard made my cheeks burn, and not in the usual way they usually did when I was around him.

“Spencer,” I barked, “We need to talk. Now.” For a few moments, he stood in front of me, his back facing my direction.

I was about to speak again before I heard him say, “My office. Half an hour.” He exited, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. The only things keeping me company were the fuming feelings swirling inside me and the failed paper clutched at my fist.

●●●

I knocked on his office door ten minutes earlier than he’d told me. The anger in my gut brewed hotter the longer I waited. As soon as I heard a “Come in,” I rushed through the door, slamming it behind me. He regarded me coolly, but didn’t comment on my actions.

“What can I do for you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” I walked up to his large desk, not bothering to take a seat in the chair in front of me. I took a moment to calm myself down before replying.

“Well, you can start by explaining to me why I got such a low score on my paper.” I guess he didn’t like being the only one of us sitting down because he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.

“It did not meet the requirements for a passing grade as outlined in the rubric. The information given was boring and the overall topic was uninteresting. It was tedious to get through,” he responded nonchalantly, like he was giving me a weather report.

“You said that you enjoyed it so far.” I rebutted, placing my hands on the desk. I needed something to offer me stability so that I wasn’t visibly shaking.

“I’d mistaken your work for another student’s. Maybe Mr. Montgomery,” he dryly clipped.

A bitter laugh escaped me as I put the puzzle together. Was- was he serious? Was this man acting like this because of Tony? The audacity! The laugh that bubbled from my lips must have unsettled him. He left his position from the wall in favor of standing in front of me.

“You want to know what I think?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “I think you’re jealous that I have another guy that isn’t you getting friendly with me at the shop and because of your inability to keep your---“

“That is enough,” he grounded out, shaking his head. But I didn’t stop talking.

“--private feelings away from your professional ones, you decided to give me a failing grade. Do you know how hard I worked in-” my voice rose up higher and higher until I was yelling.

“I said that’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. But I wasn’t done.

“-this class? This is my life, my fucking future on the line. I’ve told you how important this all is to me and you don’t even give a shit! You’re going to let your interpretation of my relationship with another student influence the way you do your job? And here I thought you were a decent man, Professor.” I hissed, “Do you even give a damn abo-”

“Enough,” he roared, slamming his hands on the desk and caging me against the wood. His breathing was matching the upbeat pace of my own. His quick movement and the sheer volume of his voice caught me off guard, effectively silencing me.

“I don’t deserve to be punished over your envy,” I whispered, locking eyes with him in a steady gaze.

“You want to see a real punishment, darling?” he hissed, the heat of his words almost breaking my glare, his breath fanning along my face.

We stared at one another for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. The tension between us kept rising and rising until the inevitable happened. I couldn’t be sure who made the first move but before I knew it, our lips collided with a mix of rage and desperation. My arms draped around his neck as he pressed me on to the desk. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up high enough until I was perched on the cool wooden surface.

Spencer’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh way he was kissing me. His tongue parted my lips, gliding over mine with fervor. I couldn’t help but moan as he rolled his hips into me. He continued his rough grind, keeping my legs open as we moved as close together as our bodies would allow. He overwhelmed my senses- the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Everything was making me absolutely feral for this man.

I never expected the gentle Dr. Reid to be so fervent, so sensual. The kindhearted, sweet professor who regularly drank his weight in caffeine never gave me this impression. But then again, I’m sure he was shocked by my attitude as well. He knew me as the friendly, bubbly barista, now student, who enjoyed his class. He was about to meet a whole new side of me, just like I was going to for him.

Spencer pulled away from me, our mouths making an audible ‘pop’ sound from the sudden separation. I tried to catch my breath as he stared at me, our chests rising and falling together. If I were to move a bit closer to him, we would be touching once again.

He took a few steps back before motioning me to step in front of him. “I want you to get down on your knees. Now.” I wasn’t going to argue with him, mainly because I wanted the exact same thing he did. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes on his face.

“You going to shut me up, Professor?” I teased, feeling powerful, even though he was looming over me. He didn’t reply, just continued to look down on me with those honey colored eyes- full of lust and rage.

I watched as he slowly placed his hands on his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons. He drew down his pants and boxers at the same time, just low enough to reveal his impressive size. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulge as he came closer to me.

“We’re going to put that smart mouth to better use. Open.” He said, gripping my face between his fingers, forcing me to follow his orders. I opened my mouth slightly, not giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead of ordering my mouth to open further like I expected, he placed his thumb inside. He pushed the digit deep, pressing it against my tongue. I moaned around the finger, softly nibbling at the skin. He continued to slide his finger within my mouth before dragging it out completely. He wiped the excess spit on my cheek before lightly smacking it. The small shock of pain sent a shiver down my spine.

“Open, and do it right this time.”

I obeyed, opening wide enough to accept him into my mouth. My lips were stretched almost uncomfortably in an attempt to fit around him. He was so hot and thick, I couldn’t help but hum at the taste of him on my tongue. The soft “fuck” that fell from his lips had me purring around him. I went to place my hands on the remaining portion that couldn’t fit, but he batted them away.

“You’re using only your mouth.”

Fine, have it your way, Sir.

I placed my hands behind me as I bobbed my head, hallowing my cheeks with every rise. His shallow thrusts encouraged me to suck harder. I slowly pulled away to run my tongue against the vein protruding on the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with a groan escaping his lips.

“I should have known that you would be so good at this, darling,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he tried to control his grunts.

I made sure to look in his eyes as I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. The face he made was purely angelic. The muscles of his neck protruded more evidently and his breathing became more labored. I placed him back in my mouth, this time taking my time to go down on him.

“That’s right, Princess. Show me what a good girl you are for me.” He moaned as I felt his hands weave in my hair before he pushed my head down on to him, causing me to gag around him, tears pricking my eyes. He continued his thrusts into my mouth, barely allowing me a chance to breathe. My nose repeatedly touched the base of him as I swallowed around his hard length.

Spencer tightened his fingers in my hair and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. The pace was brutal, but I enjoyed the rough treatment. Knowing that I was the one making him feel good was such a turn on. He buried himself deep in my throat after a few more thrusts to finish. I swallowed his release like the greedy brat that we both now knew I was.

He eventually pulled out, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. I swiped the back off my hand across my mouth to clean off any leftover spit and cum.

“Get up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse.

I did so, rubbing the ache in my knees as I slowly rose. “I want you bent over the desk,” he continued.

“I want you to answer my previous question.” I quipped.

“You’re not in the position to be making commands,” he growled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair again, pulling just roughly enough so that I was looking up at his face. “If you want this to end well for you, I suggest bending over my desk before I stuff my cock in that bratty little mouth of yours again.”

He released me, eyes still on my face waiting for me to follow through on his order. I turned to his desk and did as he asked, bending over the wood until my chest laid flat against the surface. I waited as patiently as I could for him. It felt as if I was in this position for an eternity before he touched me. He pushed both my underwear and skirt down to my knees before placing his hands on my hips. I heard it before I felt it- the smack on my ass that caused me to yelp.

“Fuck, Spencer. What the—” I was cut off with another resounding smack.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to give you a real punishment, darling?” I took a deep breath as another shiver went down my spine. He had no business sounding so hot right now. Another smack, this time on my opposite cheek, had me biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.

“This” *SMACK* “Is” *SMACK* “What” *SMACK* “Happens” *SMACK* “To” *SMACK* “Bratty” *SMACK* “Little” *SMACK* “Girls” *SMACK*. A sob ripped from my chest as the last blow landed. My ass was on fire and surely littered with his hand prints.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood since you sucked me off so nicely, or I would have made that worse.”

Gee, thanks.

“You look like such a dirty slut like this.” I felt a finger enter me easily, the wetness gathered there making my entrance ready to take him. “So wet. Was it the spanking that got you like this, or your mouth around my cock?” A moan was my only reply as he added another finger, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion.

“Are you gonna be my sweet girl, now?” He asked as I moved my hips along his fingers, desperately trying to seek some more relief for the fire burning between my thighs as his mouth littered marks along my thighs. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me as he curled his fingers, a slow moan falling from my lips. He pulled them out of me, wiping the slickness against my still burning ass. Fucking bastard. I wiggled my hips against him, hoping he would grant me a reprieve and put his fingers back inside me. Instead, he spanked my ass one more time- one quick, sharp blow against the bruised cheek.

Just when I was about to yell at him, he placed the head of his member against my entrance. He moved up and down my drenched entrance before penetrating me in one full thrust. I took a short breath in, trying to get used to feeling so full. He was stretching me out in the most amazing way.

Spencer waited until I was grinding against him before he pulled out and pushed back into me. “Look at you, such a wanton little bitch aren’t you?” He could call me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.

He kept a steady pace, making sure to grind into me every time he slammed back in. The obscene sound of our skin smacking against one another’s and the moans escaping our throats was an erotic symphony that had my body heat raising the temperature in the room.

He hitched my leg on top of the desk, entering in an angle that made the pleasure so much better. I couldn’t stop the whines that kept escaping my mouth every time he pounded into me. His hand stayed upon my leg, holding me down and limiting my movements. His nails dug into the skin so harshly I was sure there would be bruises left in their wake.

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he hissed under his breath. “Should have known you just needed to be fucked like the cheap whore you are.” He sped up, hips snapping at an almost punishing pace. The desk creaked every time he slammed into me. I hoped no one was nearby to hear what was going on. A whine left my throat when I felt his fingers rub against my clit. I was so close now.

“Should I stay inside you? Fill you up so you walk around campus carrying my child?” He growls, his pace increasing with each passing moment. “Knock you up so the whole campus knows what a whore you are for me?” He asks, earning a cry ripped from my throat.

“Who’s fucking you?” he grunted. I don’t know how he expected me to form a coherent statement at this current moment. My eyes could barely stay open at this point.

“Spencer, please.” He smacked the outside of my thigh.

“Try again, who’s fucking you?”

“You are, Doctor.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer too, because it earned me another smack on my thigh. I had tears streaming down my face from the pleasurable pain he was giving me.

“You have one more chance or else I’m not letting you come. Now, who’s is fucking you?”

“Professor Reid!” I cried out.

“That’s right darling. Now come on my cock.” A harsh bite on my neck was the ultimate push that had me seeing stars. Spencer thrusted a few more times before fully sheathing himself within me.

He slumped over me, the feel of his breath against my neck causing me to shiver once more. We took a moment to have the high leave our body before he pulled out of me, a gasp leaving the both of us. Spencer was the first to break the silence between us.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice a bit shy.

I giggled at his demeanor. A few moments ago, he was fucking me senseless and spanking me over his desk like a porno, and now he was asking me out to dinner.

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “But I should probably cancel my study plans.” I quickly added.

He led me to the faculty bathroom so I could freshen myself up. When I emerged, he was back to being the prim and proper professor I knew him to be. Just before we left his office, he leaned down and whispered, “By the way, you got an A.”

2K notes · View notes

fluffi · 4 years ago

Text

MY DETENTION BUDDY :: JAY

pairing: jay x gn!reader genre: fluff, badboy!jay, highschool!au, friends-enemies-lovers!au word count: 2k event: for @lovesick-net and (early) jay day 200421 <3 author’s note: simple little one-shot for jay’s birthday (i wont be uploading anything for his actual birthday). i had to speedrun this fic because i kept changing the plot and this hasnt been proofread twice (unlike my other fics) T-T i hope it’ll still work out. warnings: (reader makes one bad decision)

Ring...ring...ring...ring..ring…

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring

Ringringringringiringringringring.

RIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRRI-SLAM!

The alarm clock stopped its boisterous wailing

10 more minutes. I don’t have to style my hair today.

Thirty minutes passed.

RIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRIRI- SLAM!

Ugh. I’ll just miss assembly.

RIRIRIIRRIRIRI-

This time, the ringing stopped before he could slam his hand over the alarm clock.

“Jongseong, do you not have school today?” Jay could only make out a bush of black that stood above him as he sat up, dazed and drowsy.

“Yeah, I do. I’m about to get ready. Why?”

“It’s 9 am! You should be at school! At this point, you don’t even have to go anymore.” His mother huffed in disappointment.

It was an exaggeration, but she had a point. School started at eight in the morning. It was already an hour later but he was still sitting in bed.

“I’ll get ready now. 10 minutes. Good to go.” He shooed his mom away, already running to the bathroom to wash up.

“I’m leaving now Jay. You know darn well that I have an important meeting today and I can’t miss it just for you to not get a tardy. Heck, you’re already late! You’re-”

“Mom! I can’t walk to school! It takes too long.” Jay whined as he brushed his teeth, his muffled voice interrupting his mother’s speech.

“Young man, stop interrupting me. I told you a week ago about today’s event and it’s not my fault that my oldest son can’t take care of himself. You’re going to have to take another mode of transport, you’re old enough to deal with this yourself!” With that, his mother stormed out of his room, her feet obnoxiously thumping on the floor.

“I’m also your only son...” Jay muttered.

Of all days, why did she have to have her meeting today? Monthly evaluations aren’t that important. Dangit, I should’ve been taught how to drive. Jay returned to his rapid multitasking, grabbing his school uniform while washing his face. He didn’t even look twice,

After taking the quickest shower he had ever taken in his entire life and shoving all of his essential (what he determined as essential, at least) belongings into his bag, he opened to door and dashed outside only to be met with…

Rain.

Rain everywhere. Drenching the front yard’s perfectly tended flower garden and creating heaps of watery mud. It was pouring at 9.15 am. There was thunder and occasional flashes of light zooming through the clouds. The city was in shambles.

Not like, shamble, shambles. It was shambles in Jay’s opinion as he groaned and stomped his way through the rain.

Screw school. Screw this stupid rain, screw my alarm clock, screw this-

“Dude, why are you running in the rain? You’re soaked. Are you heading to school?” A pink-haired boy in a red Ferrari shouted from across the street.

Jay sighed in relief, immediately running across the road to said Ferrari. “Choi Yeonjun. You are a life-saver. Could I get a ride real quick? I’ll pay back for engine fees and for soaking the inside of your Ferrari with rainwater.”

“Hop right in, and don’t worry about returning. Let’s have some fun with this baby.” Yeonjun smirked and revved the engine, swerving past cars and buildings like it was a little RPG game.

At this rate, I’ll make it to school in no time.

“Dude, I’m so sorry. I guess you have to walk.”

Just as he thought things were taking a better turn, Yeonjun decides to show off his new driving skills and zooms through roads at a rapid speed, so fast that he crashed the car by a tree. It was a miracle that both of them didn’t get hurt but as far as Jay was concerned, he could worry about that some other time. This was just slowing him down on his long and tedious journey towards his form of hell.

On the bright side, the rain had stopped and the sunshine was back as if nothing had happened.

“I’ll get going to school.” Jay internally groaned and started sprinting in the direction of his school.

“Hey, at least I helped you get closer to school! Didn’t I?” Yeonjun shouted from behind and coyly smiled.

Such a boastful punk, Jay thought. “Whatever, bro!” He turned back and gave his older friend a quick wave before dashing off.

“Park Jongseong! You’re late...again.”

“I’m aware.” Jay didn’t spare his English teacher an eye and slung his backpack over the chair, about to take a seat.

“Stop giving me attitude, I’m your teacher.Why are you tardy for the fourth time this month?”

“Alarm clock.”

“Alarm clock what? Are you afraid to speak up? I don’t see you acting like this in the hallways.”

Jay looked down at his feet and sighed before side-eyeing his teacher. “Overslept, okay? Sir if you could just let me off the hook you would be able to proceed with your Shakespeare nonsense.”

The entire class snickered. It was no secret that Jay loathed Mr. Jung, the English teacher. Who didn’t? Mr. Jung treated every student in school like they were incapable toddlers and it was a wonder that anyone would dare to stand up to his stupid remarks. Jay’s carefree attitude towards his horrible teachers was one of the reasons why he earned so many fangirls.

Not like you were one, of course. You watched as he pulled his chair out and sat next to you out of the three other vacant seats at the back of the class.

Mr. Jung rolled his eyes and continued writing on the blackboard. “Also, Jongseong,” he added, “you’re wearing your school shirt the wrong way round. See you in detention for your tardiness.”

A few of the girls in a few seats in front of him whispered rapidly, although whispering didn’t stop Jay from finding out about their gossip.

“Lol! So much for being the bad boy of our grade. He looks like a wreck today.”

“I know right? I wonder what the other fangirls will think of this. Should we send the pictures to the fan club?”

The second girl giggled. “Yeah, duh. Name it jay-park-wreck-images.”

So much for my reputation. Jay could only roll his eyes as he pulled out his supplies, ignoring the camera clicks coming from the seats in front of him.

“Oh, yay. At least I’ll have a detention buddy now.”

Jay eyed you up and down like your statement was some sort of monstrosity. “Detention? You, detention? Pfft.” He laughed.

“Yeah, Jay. Me, detention. Why are you so happy about it? Glad to be stuck with another girl?”

“What, no-no. You just...don’t seem like the type to be in detention. How’d you get it?”

“This..may be kind of embarrassing, but...” You turned to the side and Jay gasped.

On the sleeve of your uniform was a...rabbit? It wasn’t too obvious as to what the marker doodle was but it was apparent that you had intentionally spent time to draw on it.

“Look, I was bored in assembly this morning and found a spare marker in my pocket! Don’t judge, we all know how bad assembly can be.” You blurted just as Jay was about to ask why you had done what you did.

“You could’ve just drawn on your hand or done something else with the marker.” Jay sighed and shook his head at your dumb decision.

“I was out of my mind, okay? Ugh, Assembly always drives me nuts. I got called out for for the horrendous ink bleed when Mr. Jung saw as I walked into the classroom. He said it ‘didn’t follow school guidelines’.”

“For once, I agree with Mr. Jung. It was a stupid choice, you know? If you didn’t draw on your uniform then you wouldn’t have to go to detention now.”

“Jay Park, the bad boy of school, is telling me to be a rule abider. Biggest twist of the century.” You rolled your eyes.

Jay frowned and turned back at you, losing that little spark in his eyes that he once kept. “I’m not a bad boy you know? I just don’t like the system in place here.”

“As if anyone is going to believe that. Go hang out with another girl of yours. I’m not here to be your toy.”

“People like you are the reason why everyone thinks I’m a bad person. I thought you were different, you know?”

You had been preoccupied with taking notes for class, but now you looked at him with squinted eyes. “Well, I am different. Different as In someone who doesn’t fall for your useless charms. Go suck up to your fangirls or something.”

Jay rolled his eyes and scooted away from you. He thought he had been lucky to meet you, but he guessed not.

You always do this, you idiot. You were so close to making a new friend.

You put your hands in your head and side-eyed Jay, who seemed to be struggling as Mr. Jung blurted out an entire unit’s summary.

The boy hadn’t brought any stationery and was definitely on the wrong page of the textbook. You figured that he was this disheveled from his absolute lack of planning but you still felt bad.

His hair was a mess, it was still damp from the rain before. If only you could help him style it…

Why do I want to touch his hair? That’s weird and gross.

You were so occupied with thinking about Jay that you realized that he was still struggling in class.

Maybe you could make things better.

“I’m sorry.”

Jay was struggling to find the page you guys were on for class when a pencil blocked his view.

“What do you want?” He said as he tried to look past your pencil swinging.

“It’s a pencil for you since I realized that your table is practically empty and you’re going to need something to take notes with for later. Also, it’s page 153, not 53.” You leaned over to help him flip the pages.

“Oh, that makes so much more sense. I was wondering why we were relearning unit 3 when finals aren’t even near yet.”

You raised your eyebrows, looking up at a relieved Jay. “So you do pay attention in class.”

“Of course I do! I’m a student. You should stop using that stereotype on me.” Jay frowned and a tinge of disappointment shadowed his face.

“Right, I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying to work on it, it’s rumors and assumptions that have built up over the past few years and I understand that it shouldn’t get in the way of our friendship.”

“Friendship? We have a friendship?” Jay chuckled and cocked an eyebrow up, teasing you.

Maybe it was that eyebrow slit or the weird tension that was building up between the both of you. You felt your face heat up. “I mean- yeah, friendship. Are we not friends?”

“I don’t know, hun. I thought we were something more.”

“Um...best...friends?”

It was perfect timing as the bell rang and you immediately started packing things into your bag, eyes glued to the clock instead of the amused boy next to you.

Jay laughed, running his hands through his blonde locks and watching as you started running out of class, your eyes occasionally looking back at him to see if he was still staring at you.

“See you in detention!” He called, drawing the attention of your classmates.

Jay Park needs to learn how to shut his mouth. Everyone was now staring at you and you were flustered, embarrassed, shocked, and confused. The weird mix of emotions were driving you nuts. All you could muster was a little nod and you dashed out of there as fast as you could.

“Today we’re going to learn about Murphy’s Law. It is where anything that can go wrong will go wrong.”

“But everything that can work, will work.” Jay raised his hand and added, sparing a glance at you jotting notes in the back of the classroom, oblivious to his reference towards you.

“You’re right Jay. Murphy’s Law works both ways. Reversing it is considered part of science…”

Today morning was a storm (figuratively and literally) and everything seemed to be going wrong for Jay. Murphy’s Law prevails. but there’s always a rainbow after the storm. You were his rainbow and his lucky charm.

2021 © fluffi

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neverdoingmuch · 5 years ago

Note

Wait cql lawyer/law school AU

i got you my pal dont worry!!

law school, im gonna be honest and say i know like nothing about law or law school so pls ignore any inconsistencies or inaccuracies

lwj goes to law school and he is definitely the top student in his class. they’ve been there for like a month and everyone already knows he’s gonna be the best

his one and only competition is this dude called wei wuxian but lwj isn’t particularly worried about him

so far they’re still in the stage of the course where they do the fun things to sucker people into doing the class for the semester so there’s been some practise debates and arguments and stuff in their tutorial classes

wei wuxian has that Charisma and like yeah all of his arguments are perfect but also he has an amazing smile and people are like yes i can trust him

(he’s definitely the sort to be like hm, the easy way to argue this case would be to quote some laws and use precedence to justify this but that’s boring)

lwj is also good at that sort of stuff because his arguments are perfect and everything is so perfectly researched that there should be no ground at all for someone to lodge a counterargument

(wei wuxian manages somehow and it makes lwj so mad)

but that’s whatever lwj thinks,, a lot of people join law thinking it’s gonna be like the tv shows and books and then get completely blindsided when it comes to the rote learning part or like the actual laws

and for all of wwx’s confidence, lwj hasn’t actually seen wwx so much as touch the textbook/s and he always studies in the law library so he knows that wwx has probably never even been there bc he hasn’t seen him even once (why’s he looking? bc he needs to see which books wwx uses to study,, bc there has to be something going on there,, obviously)

then they do their first like proper written assignment and lwj and wwx tie for the highest scores and now lwj has a Rival and he refuses to lose to someone who thinks that putting a ‘-us’ sound at the end of a word makes it latin (did wwx say habeas corpus and then point at a soft drink and go sprite-us can-us,,, maybe,,,,)

anyway! lwj and wwx are kinda rivals for the top spot and it’s one of those situations where one test lwj wins by a point but then the next test wwx gets full marks and they just keep exchanging the top spot in class

and this whole time wwx is like The Worst to have in class. he’s always interrupting to ask questions or just straight up not listening and spends the class doodling pictures of rabbits (they’re cute but wwx is terrible and he’s not allowed to make cute drawings)

so after a few months the most horrible thing happens.... they get put together in a project and lwj is like ugh. internally of course but his face is also saying ugh

the first time wwx and lwj get together to work on the project, lwj is prepared with a proper list of tasks to do all nicely split up between the two of them and a schedule for when they should get certain parts done by.

needless to say, lwj does not expect wwx to be ready, but wwx is definitely on top of things

he rocks up and is like yeah let’s do this, this and this and have them done by this time - basically proposing to do everything that lwj has already written down

and lwj is pleasantly surprised and is like hm maybe i misjudged wwx and decides to like re-evaluate his opinion on him

in doing so he realises that when he’d never seen wwx studying, it wasn’t an exaggeration at all. he’s never seen wwx so much as touch a textbook or spend more than a minute on a laptop doing something that wasn’t minesweeper or solitaire

but wwx is also making all of their deadlines and even adds extra information and resources to their document that could be useful elsewhere and sometimes he shows up to their study sessions and he looks absolutely exhausted

eventually lwj manages to get the truth out and wwx is just like yeah it’s easier to get worse grades than a genius but if you both study and you still get lower grades, it’s not easy,, for jc or for me

so wwx usually studies at night when his brother is asleep and lwj is like that’s bad, you can’t keep that up and just when wwx is about to go off at him lwj is like you can come study at my place

and thus begins the wonderful time where everything is alright and lwj falls in love with wwx

they work really well together and wwx is strangely considerate and nice? when he finds out lwj likes rabbits, he goes out and buys bunny post-it notes for lwj and starts to always bring him a doodle of bunnies every time he comes over. he always gets his work done on time, early even, and his work is always so brilliant and every time wwx smiles at him, lwj feels warm inside etc etc

for a long while lwj is like yes (: this is friendship (: bc he’s never had a crush before but then on the day they submit their project wwx is like hey,, the two of us make a great team,, we should always work together,, now and next year and even when we graduate,, i want to help the innocent people who need our help and i think i’d like it a lot if you joined me and lwj has his oh moment

they get a perfect score on the project of course and even after it finishes, wwx keeps coming over to lwj’s place to study or just hang out and lwj is just falling more and more for wwx each day

they’re best friends now and everyone gets used to seeing them work together on projects and then turn around to try and decimate each other when they’re working one on one and lwj thinks that he might just be the happiest he’s ever been

but then one day wwx doesn’t show up to class. it shouldn’t be strange but wwx has never missed class even once and he ends up hearing from lxc who heard from jgy that wwx was caught sabotaging some other student’s work (the other student was jzxun, who had a fondness for playing devil’s advocate and other than wwx once telling him that his argument was shit, wwx never spoke to him or seemed to know who he was but lwj is a bit too angry to remember that)

he manages to find wwx outside of his dorms as he’s moving out and he’s just like why did you do that? and wwx is like oh y’know,, bc he’s not really sure what’s happening himself,, one second he was at the top of his class and the next he was being brought before a board and being told that he was being expelled but he’s not going to tell lwj that bc lwj would definitely try and stand up for him and then they’d both get expelled

but lwj is furious and just spits out well if our dreams meant so little to you then maybe it’s a good thing you failed now,, bc his mother was a lawyer who took all these little jobs that helped people who actually needed the help and lwj was looking forward to doing that with wwx and he doesn’t even seem to care that now they can’t do that

wwx flinches and then smiles at him and just cheerily says, that’s me and leaves. he doesn’t look back and lwj doesn’t chase after him.

lwj doesn’t see him again for years (you can do 13 or 5 or however long you feel like)

lwj is a fully licensed lawyer and he’s working for the family company and he spends half of his time working on cases and uses the rest of his time to do like outreach programs where he goes and visits schools and runs sessions on what it’s like to be a lawyer, how to apply, and to provide assistance to any students who decide to study law at uni

and then at one of these programs he meets this kid, wen yuan, who is ridiculously bright and enthusiastic and has a smile that seems oddly familiar

at the end of the second session he comes up to lwj and is like mr. lan, is your name lan wangji? and lwj just says yes, expecting the kid to be a fan of one of his cases or something but then wen yuan is like oh wow! i thought i recognised you from my dad’s photo!

and lwj isn’t expecting much but he asks what the photo looks like and wen yuan pulls out this photo from his pocket and lwj immediately recognises it,, it’s the only photo he has of him and wwx

your father is wei ying? lwj asks him and wen yuan is like yes, hesitates, and then asks, would you like to see him?

and that’s how lwj finds himself following wen yuan to some dinky little office that has a plaque outside that reads wen and wei

(wen ning is the nicest and sweetest person ever and lots of people underestimate him but then he’s an absolute monster on court. he gets up and completely decimates the opponent and then at the end is like (: it was so nice to meet you!! i am baby!! and all that,, you know our boy)

anyway they walk in and wwx turns to greet wen yuan but then he sees lwj and is like woah! you! and he’s not sure whether to hide or go and hug lwj so he just gives him a fist bump,, like a bro,, and immediately wants to shrivel up and die

anyway they get the reunion stuff out of the way, swelling music, tender wrist holding, lots of staring, lwj silently declaring his wholehearted love for wwx and refusing to believe rumours about him again even though he doesn’t actually know what happened, you know how it goes

from wwx’s side of things,, after he got kicked out he went to some small uni. good in its own right but not known for their law program and ended up specialising in family law

the first case he ever won was for the wens to have the right to keep custody of a-yuan and the first case wen ning ever won was to let wwx adopt a-yuan bc i’m soft like that

so wwx has just been kinda vibing,, being a single dad, living with the wens and helping to make that difference he always promised he would

now this isn’t gonna be some au where lwj goes oh my! i must give up my high salary job and work with wwx! bc lwj has been doing good stuff at his current job and for all of his family’s stuffiness, they run a fair and just company

but! he does end up helping wwx when wwx gets a letter with a bunch of information about the jins and how they’re actually super corrupt and evil (big surprise,,) and how wwx was maybe definitely framed bc he was doing some casual work on the side and stumbled across some bad shit on the jins back in uni

lwj ends up being the one to take the case officially but wwx is definitely the guy leading it and so lwj ends up spending most of his time at the wen-wei office

lwj definitely bonds with wen yuan, who also wants to go into law, and writes him recommendation letters and helps him edit his applications and stuff

(and one day wen yuan is like leaving you was the hardest thing dad ever did and i dont think you appreciated how much he cared about you. he really did think that he annoyed you ‘til the end and lwj is like no! he didn’t! and wen yuan is like yeah i know but you gotta tell him and lwj really does mean to but the time is never right or something like that but also wen yuan is all but calling lwj dad at this point)

anyway they end up going to court, side by side, working as a team just as they promised to do and just as they finish their final day on the case, ended with the jury ruling jgy guilty and wwx’s reputation all but saved, wwx turns around and flings himself at lwj

is he crying? is he laughing? a bit of both tbh but wwx ends up confessing right then and there, still on record and everything (is that how that works??? idk! let’s say it does)

and what can lwj do but make out with him?

did a news crew come in to film the results of this massive court case just to end up with five minutes of wangxian kissing?? maybe! but when it played on tv it meant wwx and lwj didnt have to actually tell anyone they got together

(and does lwj eventually pop the question using wwx’s bad latinification? yes and wwx is too busy laughing to accept at first but he does and they end up being the worst possible tutors for wen yuan as he goes through law school bc they keep being all gross and lovey-dovey and acting like law school is the most romantic place in the world)

#mdzs #Anonymous #modao zushi #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #cql #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #all of my understanding of law comes from the pelican brief which i read over 10 years ago and one seminar on law courses at uni #so sorry if it's bad #):#lan sizhui #also i stand by wen yuan #let him keep his last name!#my aus #asks

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moonscarsandstars · 4 years ago

Text

happy birthday @sirrriusblack!! you’re an absolutely amazing person and deserve the worldd :)) i hope you have a super lovely day and a very very wonderful year ahead (or i mean just wonderful life in general you deserve it love), and hope you like this fic!

~~~

The bustle of the coffee shop may have been what Sirius loved most about it.

Something about the atmosphere seemed to be noisy yet all too calming at the same time. With the ecstatic chatter of people from Sirius’s classes coming in after school, the hum of the espresso machines at the counter, and the tinkling of the bell that was just above the door.

In fact, it was that sudden tinkling of the bell that brought Sirius’s attention from whatever chaotic conversation he’d been having with James.

“Oh fuck.”

“What-” started James, before looking at the entrance and grinning. “I think I’ll let you take this shift.”

“Absolutely not,” muttered Sirius before ducking under the counter. There was absolutely no way he was going to tend to Remus Lupin- the exact same seventh year he’d been head over heels with for years now. Not if he didn’t want to embarrass himself by probably spilling coffee and forgetting his own name.

“Pads,” said James, trying to pull Sirius’s wrist. “Get up, you’re breaking at least fifteen rules here. It’s just going to be a few seconds of talking.”

“It’ll be the longest few seconds ever.”

“But it’ll be the best few seconds, won’t it?” Asked James with a smirk.

Sirius stuck his tongue out.

“I’m not wrong, am I?”

Grabbing the counter, Sirius gave one last scowl at James before pulling himself up.

“Sorry about that,” he said, staring pointedly down at a pair of worn converse. “How may I help you?”

If the scraping of chairs in the background wasn’t so loud, the entire floor would probably be able to hear Sirius’s heart rapidly beating against his chest.

“As many double shot espressos as this can get, please,” said Remus flatly, slamming a crumpled ten pound note onto the counter.

Blinking, Sirius’s eyes widened.

“Exams.” Holding up a history textbook, Remus managed to drop at least a dozen loose papers.

“Ah, I see,” quipped Sirius with a grin. “On the house in that case. Name?”

“Moony,” replied Remus distractedly, trying to pick up all the papers and meet Sirius’s gaze.

God, his eyes were fucking beautiful.

“Moony?”

“Yes, M- oh, uh-”

“Moony it is.”

“I- okay, yes, okay.”

“Are you okay?”

Looking at the dark circles under his eyes and the constant yawning, Remus looked either like he hadn’t slept in days, or just woken up from sleeping for days. The irony was, Sirius couldn’t tell which.

“I’ll be good, thanks,” said Remus, wandering off after Sirius’s smile. But Sirius could here him vaguely mumble something along the lines of “even my textbooks aren’t okay” and couldn’t stop himself from chuckling out loud.

~~~

Maybe if Remus had any logic, he wouldn’t have deleted the exam timetable.

Or had to cram in his ten hours of history content into two hours of revision. Or have stumbled into the exact coffee place he pointedly avoided everyday. Or be sitting here with five shots of strong coffee trying to read the same line over and over again.

Sipping on an extremely bitter glass, Remus glared at his illegible notes with an even more bitter look.

“Need any help?”

Remus’s heart skipped a beat.

“I think I’m good, thanks,” said Remus, proceeding to curse under his breath as he knocked over a glass.

“Oh, I should-” started Sirius, before running off and returning with a cloth and a spray as Remus quietly wished he could sink into the ground.

“Sorry about this. I- well- didn’t get the timetable,” he muttered sheepishly.

“You didn’t? Why not?”

“Well I did,” Remus looked away, before continuing. “But I deleted it.”

Sirius stopped what he was doing to look Remus dead in the eye. “You deleted it? The mocks timetable?”

“Accidentally! No- stop laughing!”

But Remus couldn’t stop himself from catching Sirius’s laugh, holding his aching stomach no matter how much he should’ve been worrying.

God, he had such a contagious fucking laugh.

“What’re you studying?” Managed Sirius, after an intense few seconds of holding his stomach and trying not to burst into laughter again.

“History.”

“I thought you loved it though, I mean, you’re always reading it in the-” Sirius stopped himself, as an almost invisible blush rushed up his cheeks.

“You noticed?”

“I- that was much creepier than it was meant to be.”

Remus chuckled, but there was no hint of discomfort, much to Sirius’s relief. “Love history. Hate history exams.”

“Makes sense I suppose.”

“As for being creepy, I suppose it makes up for me finishing your espresso stock,” said Remus, vaguely gesturing at his messy, half-finished collection of espresso shots.

“Oh please, don’t bother. We stock up for exam season.”

“You’re kidding.”

“And you’re not alone. I’ve a nice collection of coffee at my flat, actually. And history textbooks. Well, art history, but still.”

Raising his eyebrows, Remus quipped, “Careful, that might sound like an invitation.”

“Maybe it is,” said Sirius with what Remus could have sworn was a wink that sent the childish butterflies in his stomach crazy.

“Sirius? Where the hell are you?”

Jumping in surprise, Sirius yelled back “I’m coming!” before turning to Remus. “I’m very sorry, but I’m also very much in trouble.”

And with that, he rushed off leaving Remus flustered, confused and in realisation of just how much he’d put off.

~~~

Reluctantly, after a few minutes of mindless doodling and giddy smiling, Remus came to the conclusion that he’d never finish anything in this particular coffee shop- not the studying, nor the coffee. Definitely not with all the distractions.

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave, not with the memory of Sirius’s wide grin and sparkling eyes. That is, until a voice from behind managed to scared the living daylights out of him.

“This place does close unfortunately.”

Jumping out of his skin, Remus whipped his head around with a start. There Sirius was, grinning like an idiot, trademark apron folded on a shelf revealing his shirt- top two buttons undone, Remus noticed with a start- and black jeans. Suddenly, he felt a wave of consciousness in his overflowing jumper that rolled up at his wrists.

“That- really is tragic. I was planning to sleep here, you see.”

“Well,” started Sirius, a smile playing on his lips. “What if I offered you another place to sleep?”

Remus silently cursed as his heartbeat raced. He thoroughly hoped that the heat travelling up his cheeks wasn’t as visible as Sirius’s knowing grin made it out to be.��Sirius was going to be the death of him.

“But really,” started Sirius, giving a look at his watch. “It’s getting late.”

“Sorry,” said Remus, not at all sorry for every second he spent stalling and spending time with Sirius. “Just give me a second to pack up, yeah?”

“Of course. And my offer still stands.”

“Does it come with benefits?”

Now it was Sirius’s turn to blush, eyes widening and parting his lips in a split second of surprise that turned into that same, ear-to-ear grin. Pointing to the counter awkwardly, Sirius chuckled, “I’ll- I’ll meet you there.”

The way Sirius’s blushed seemed to travel to his neck brought a smile to Remus’s lips, filled partly with some sort of satisfaction and partly fluster in its own way. Heading up to the counter, he dragged his feet in a pathetic attempt to take as long as he could.

“I’ll be heading out now,” said Remus, slapping a pathetic two dollars onto the counter as some form of tip. But his tired expression turned into confusion as Sirius produced another order of coffee, fixing the lid on before handing it to Remus.

“I- I really appreciate this, but the ten pounds was all I had-”

“Oh please, this is complimentary. On me, if you will.”

“I couldn’t,” insisted Remus, finding it increasingly difficult to refuse something from Sirius.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll want it anyway. Really, consider it a gift?”

Sirius had that earnest look in his eyes- the one that reminded Remus almost of a puppy that you just couldn’t refuse. It was infuriating, he told himself as he accepted it. “Thank you so much, I owe you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” said Sirius, leaving the counter and twisting the “open” sign to display the word “closed”. “I’ll see you soon if I’m lucky.”

And with that, he disappeared, leaving Remus confused and heart hammering against his chest.

But that grin returned to his face as Remus turned to the cup, recognising that familiar scrawl spelling out the words scrawled on the cup read “To moony,” with an address.

#taking up the good ol' coffee shop au #i should probably also mention #ordering like five shots of a really strong serving is really stupid #pls guys remus is no role model #hope you like ittt #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #marauders fanfiction

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comehomeducklings · 4 years ago

Text

Past [Part 2] (Obsession)

A/N: Some chapters will be named with either “Past,” “Present,” or “Future,” then their numbered part coming right after it. This is to confuse you less when flashbacks or anything happens. As you have probably noticed, it says “Past” for Part 2. This is going back near when Tom and her just met. Thank you for reading! <3

Tom Riddle's Moodboard

Main Character's Moodboard

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

1940 - 3rd year

“Potions is not that bad, I swear. You just have to be good at measuring.”

At the table, my friends and I are discussing our classes this year. Potions being one of my favorite topics. Devyn absolutely loathes that certain class. We have to drag her there to make sure she doesn’t skip. Poor girl tries her best to not mess up but the cauldron always ends up blowing up. I even watched her do every step once, never missing a beat. The potion still ended up failing, even though she did everything correctly. She gave up after a while, who wouldn’t. I help her do extra assignments for extra credit to keep her grade up. She also studies with me to make sure she can memorize everything and pass her tests. Amelia is pretty good at the class, she’s luckily paired with Devyn most of the time. Carrying the potion to success, with a little bit of my secret help. It’s not cheating, it’s using your resources.

I’m resources.

“Potions is not that bad,” Devyn mocks me. “If it weren’t for you two I would have gone insane in that stupid class.”

Amelia just laughs at her while eating her hash browns on the plate. She reaches her hand out to take some more eggs.

“You were able to do it before. Not the way you were supposed to, but it worked,” Amelia says.

“Exactly, just start doing it your way at this point. I don’t think Slughorn will care how it’s done, just how it comes out.”

Devyn nods her head and points at me with a fork. Her mouth full of food so she settles for that response. My plate doesn’t have much other than some bacon and fruit. I’m not usually a breakfast eater. I get my appetite at lunch and dinner time. It’s just too early for a bunch of food smells, the smells make me kind of nauseous. I’ll eat though, enough to hold me off till lunch.

The chatter in the lunchroom rises by the minute. Everyone refilling themselves before their busy day. All energy levels rising while everyone wakes up from their groggy morning mood. While my friends finish eating we continue to talk about our classes and share the schedules for this year. Most classes we had were the same except for our electives. I tried taking as many electives as possible. My family back home never really did magic. I actually came a year and a half late since my family wanted me to have a normal school experience. I learned to do everything without the use of magic, the only thing my mom taught me was the floo network, creatures, and plants. I would often accompany her to Diagon Alley when she shops. I got an Owl for my 10th birthday. A cat would have been amazing if I wasn’t allergic to it. My owl is a brown and white-furred barn owl. Don’t ask me why I named it Bartholomew. I was ten okay, give me a break. Speaking of the floo network, my mom had to chase me through it quite often because I kept teleporting everywhere. I once ran into the Ministry of Magic’s building and got lost. They had to take me home to my parents. Their faces told me everything I needed to know about the punishment waiting for me.

Halfway through the second year is when I came to Hogwarts, a second letter coming that year asking my parents to let me learn more there. So when they finally let me attend, everything was pretty new to me. My mother was the magic one in the family. Her grandmother, my great-grandmother, before her had the magic gene. Going to school was the same experience as going from a muggle-borns perspective. The difference is, I knew more about its existence. I would look at yearbooks my mom had from when she went here. She earned a lot of titles, all the achievements being recorded down. I always wondered why she never wanted me to come here. Did something happen to me, to her? I’m guessing she just wanted a normal life with dad. He has always supported her through everything. A love, a bond like that is hard to come by. He would also learn about magic right next to me. At least, the stuff my mom allowed to let us know.

That’s why I want to learn as much as I can, of what’s available. Why learn math in the muggle world when I could be learning divination. Spells of all types, potions for everything of inconvenience. My chores could be completed with just a flick of my wand. I’ve lately been learning wandless magic, on my own. Albus has helped by providing me with material to study that type of magic. The only thing I’ve managed so far is a spark coming from the tips of my fingertips. Sparking hope that I could actually, maybe, achieve that level. Now I won't get my hopes up, but that can lead me to a certain advantage in dueling. That being one of my weakest skills. Always panicking, saying any spells that pop up in my mind, and making random movements coming from my wand. Often confusing who I’m up against, although they recover from that confusion fairly quickly.

Riddle, met him once. One too many if you would ask me. I dissuade ever wanting to speak to him. Arrogance and pride flow through his tongue like second nature. I do take pride in succeeding above him in 3 classes. He is 2 classes above me but, that’s not the point. I do admit, he’s attractive. Only a little though, how else would he charm his way through the professors and students.

“Alright, I’m ready to go. You guys done?”

“Yeah,” I say. Devyn and I start leaving our seats and heading towards the huge doors.

Amelia hurried from her seat, a few steps behind since she took some fruit with her to eat on the way. More and more students also started making their way towards the first period. Not wanting to be blamed for the loss of house points. This system causes so many fights, everyone’s competitive side getting the best of their common sense. I would be lying if I said it didn’t get the best of me before. Amelia being her usual bubbly self skips backward while chatting with us. Before we could warn her to stop, she pushes someone ahead of her. Both falling down, hitting the floor. She spins her head extremely quickly, her hair sticking in her mouth from the force of the wind.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” she explains. Quickly trying to digest her situation. I make my way towards her and pull her up. I fix her robe and dust off any dirt on the cloth from the floor.

“Clearly idiot, can you not use those bug eyes of yours to see?”

Devyn and I make eye contact. We understand that there are witnesses here, and one of them is bound to snitch on us if we fight. A huge scene would probably make Amelia feel even more embarrassed as well. Instead, I guided Amelia by her back. We continue on to class while I comfort her. Devyn is staying back to “talk” to the guy. Lestrange is in for it now, any poor soul would be when in the fiery path of her anger.

Devyn’s loud yells could still be slightly heard when entering the potions classroom. First class of the year, and day. On Slughorn’s table, I can see a vial with the wideye potion contained inside. I set Devyn’s textbook on her station, turning to the page that contains information on the potion. Hoping to save her confusion and time.

“Welcome, welcome! Nice to see some old faces, and new ones,” he says with the biggest grin on his face. “Today we’ll be learning about the Wideye potion. Can anyone tell me what this potion does?”

I quickly raise my hand, rather eager. I did some reading about a lot of potions during the summer. Trying to get a headstart on my studies. This potion being one of them. Only 3 students raised their hand, one of them being me. The other, well, Riddle.

“Yes, go ahead and answer,” the professor looks my way.

I smile, “The wideye potion prevents the person consuming the liquid the ability to fall asleep. Which is often used in the medical field to wake someone from a sleep caused by a blunt force or drug.”

“Precisely! 10 points.”

I look back rather smugly at Riddle, rather happy I got chosen instead of him. I know, he could have easily answered that too. I’ll let myself bask in the small achievement for now. 30 minutes of class is just spent writing down notes, preparing us for the potion we will make. Note-taking is my favorite, especially the little doodles I get to make. We use a feather instead of the regular pen. I found it rather amusing and liked the certain feeling of writing with it. The dipping noise that the point of the feather makes when hitting the liquid ink is a very profound sound. No real writer’s bump forming on my fingers.

“That’s enough writing, I need you all to prepare your cauldron, gather the materials you need, and start your potion. If done correctly, tomorrow when we add the finishing touches and check on it the potion should be a blue/green color,” Slughorn comments. “You have 10 minutes to study your notes, then the rest of the class to make your potion. No looking back at your notes after those ten minutes.”

After scanning my notes, I stand up and walk towards the ingredients on the shelves. If I remember correctly my potion requires snake fangs, standard ingredient, and wolfsbane. I gather all that in my hand and set it down near my cauldron. Before I start, I take a moment. I’m missing something, I’m sure there was another ingredient.

Wolfsbane, check.

Snake fangs, six of them.

I have the measures of Standard ingredient.

There’s one more, I try to look around the room. Then I remember that we get an automatic failing grade if caught cheating. There’s no way I’ll let my grade drop like that. Over something so small and inconvenient too. Making my way to the shelves, I scan over the ingredients over and over again. Trying to see if any of the names pop out to me.

No.

Definitely not.

That’s an ingredient?

I don’t even want to know how that one was obtained.

This one, of course it’s this one. I even remember putting a star next to the name in my notebook. Dried Billwig stings, I believe six of them were needed. All that time wasted. Hurrying to my seat I get to work. The time goes by quickly, all that could be heard was the sizzling and whooshing of our potions. I almost knocked down my vials a couple of times. Someone actually did, their time spent on cleaning the glass off the floor. After heating the first three ingredients, I crush them together in the mortar. Then stir clockwise from what I recall, three times specifically. Finally, I wave my wand over then leave it to brew.

Just in time from the looks of it. I glance at Devyn to see how it went for her, and she looks pretty proud of herself. I take that as a blessing that it didn’t blow up this time of round. I’m guessing she took our advice and did it her own way.

A student raises his hand, “May we leave?”

“Oh yes yes, go ahead. No assignments for the first day, only the potion you made in class.”

Before I leave the classroom I examine Riddle’s station. He already left the room. His potion looks similar to how mine turned out, his workspace thoroughly cleaned. Everything used properly placed back to where it should be. Perfectly spotless, not a single speck of dust in sight. All done without magic too, surprising for someone born into the wizarding world. When I mentioned that I met him once, it wasn’t much of anything. The only way I know how he really acts is through other people. Much admire his intelligence and strong will. Others are jealous of the potential he holds for the future.

Girls are already trying to slip love potions into his drinks. I would feel bad if he wasn’t so rude to them. Only just before touching the disrespectful line. He almost drank one of their attempts before. Wouldn’t want to imagine how that turned out. Tom riddle, in love. That man probably doesn’t know the feeling of happiness, let alone love. I feel bad for his future girlfriend, she’s going to have to deal with a handful of baggage.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

“How much do you want to bet Nott will demolish him?” A Gryffindor girl to my left whispers.

Nott, part of Riddle’s group from what I’ve seen. They all eat lunch together and talk to one another so it’s a reasonable guess. Very talented duellist, one of the bests here.

“I hate to admit it, but he’ll definitely win this. I’ll still have hope for the other guy though,” I whisper back trying not to sound mean.

Nott and the other Slytherin boy are up right now. It’s a courtesy for the audience to stay quiet until someone casts the first attack or defense. From then on all you will hear is shouting of encouragement and the opposite. Nott’s eyes are focused, zoning in on the opponent before him. His wand is steady, mouth slightly parted to breathe through better. Whole-body alert and tense waiting for something. From what I'm getting, I believe he’s waiting for the Slytherin boy to go first. Nott casts spells quickly and thinks them through decently. Sometimes you're not able to create a counter-spell quick enough to defend yourself against him.

Riddle’s group and himself are near the corner of the platform. All seemingly analyzing every breath he inhales and exhales. I finally hear the whoosh of a wand and a whiz of light fly past the platform. The glow from the spell lighting our faces for a millisecond. Nott quickly counters that spell and moves to cast his own. Magic flies across the platform, all of our eyes going back and forth like a ping-pong match. The Slytherin boy starts breaking a sweat. He’s only been able to get a couple of offensive spells in there, most of his plays spent throwing off Nott’s. If he doesn’t turn the battle soon, the outcome will become very clear.

It is a little less exciting since we only know a handful of spells. So whatever you know from your own studies you use in these duels. When we move up the years the class will become more serious and dangerous. Right now it’s just to teach us how to counter and cast quickly. The proper etiquette and movement. You use spells that you know, they aren’t supposed to harm someone. Either stun them, make them fly back, or disarm. Most of those spells require a little of a higher level, most of us not even knowing of its existence yet. So what’s mostly cast between competitors is a basic spell to exert force. That force should be aimed for the legs, or the wand to disarm that way. The way someone can win here is to make their knees or hands touch the floor, or disarm their wand. As I mentioned, it will get more intense as time goes by. We're only just starting 3rd year right now, a lot more charms will be learned later on.

I shake my head to get rid of any lingering thoughts. My attention goes right back to the duel taking place in front of me. Nott quickly aims a spell at the knees and manages to bring the other boy to his knees.

“Mr. Nott wins this duel! Please step off the platform, we will evaluate your performance.”

During the practice duels today, you watch it, think of ways to help the person improve, and point out things they might have done wrong. At the end, the professor picks people raising their hands to allow them to give their feedback. Participating is part of the grade you get in here. I personally prefer giving feedback then dueling. I’m not the best at casting, I do give out good defense spells though. That should mean something, I hope.

“Let’s start with Nott, does anyone have feedback for him?”

A couple of people spread apart raised their hands. One by one they all ask questions and give feedback. They mention his feet and posture when he stands. Arms fully stretched out where it would have been more flexible to bend it slightly. When he casts he shouldn’t be walking backward. They shortly switch to the other boy’s questions and feedback. The way he never gave himself the opening to cast an offensive spell often. He would move around his area a lot. Almost slipping off the stage during one of those movements. Tom and his group privately discussed with one another. They’re probably giving Nott their own feedback and suggestions privately.

“Now, Riddle I want you to come up and…,” he scans the room for another student. After some time he points his finger at me. “You.”

I could have had a smooth sailing class. I was so close to not having to go up there. My hands start sweating a bit, my anxiety jumbling my thoughts together. Riddle’s already up there and soon to be on his side of the platform. Taking his wand out and wandering his fingers over the design. I gulp, a big toad stuck in my throat. I wipe my hands on my robe and start up the stairs. Riddle seems as unbothered as ever. We bow, turn, then walk ten paces back. During this time I try predicting who will cast first. I don’t know him very well, I’ve also never seen him duel.

I take my dueling stance and wait for the signal to start. Hoping, praying, that I don’t embarrass myself. Slipping up is not allowed, not when going against him.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

Taglist:

@empath-bunny

#tom riddle x oc #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #lord voldemort #death eaters #voldemort #horcrux #hogwarts #harry potter #wizard #post wizarding war #enemies to allies #enemies to lovers #angst #oc #poc #Oc is any race #moldy voldy

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feen-feet · 4 years ago

Text

Compounds

This is a fanfic based on Sleepless Domain, a magical girl webcomic by Mary Cagle. More Benzine fluff.

------

Steffi’s worst subject was Free Study.

It isn’t really a subject. Just blocks of time spent in the library, assigned for catching up on classwork you’re behind on. She had no shortage of that. The problem was, just… she was unsupervised! No one checked attendance! How was she supposed to concentrate when goofing off was such an easy option? How dare these teachers place so much… trust in her?

She sighed, cheek in hand, noticing she’d been doodling in the margins of her exercise book for a good five minutes now. She looked across the table to Benzine. She was head down, pen scratching away. A model student. Dork.

So bored. “Hey Benz, how did you do on that Outer Science paper?”

No reaction. Benzine’s head remained down. She scowled, scratching something out.

Steffi’s eyes narrowed. She brought her pen up, judged the distance and weight, then flicked it at Benzine’s head.

The gentle clonk got a sharp reaction as Benzine straightened. “Waugh! What? Nothing!” She seemed… embarrassed?

Further suspicion reduced Steffi’s eyes to slits. She glanced at Benzine’s exercise book. She had her calculus textbook out, but that didn’t look like calculus…

She returned her gaze to Benzine. “Behind you.”

“Huh?” Benzine turned. Steffi snatched Benzine’s exercise book away. Yeesh, she’s really off her game.

“HEY!” Benzine grabbed the book, yanking at it, but not before Steffi got a look at its content.

JULIE

RACHEL

LISA

MARY

SALLY

BERNADETTE. This one was crossed out.

Steffi met Benzine’s eyes. The yanking had stopped. Benzine's face was aflame. She dropped her hands, and face, to the table. A muffled explanation. “I need a new name.”

Steffi sat there, holding the book. “Oh. Oh, yeah. Was wondering about that. Are these… candidates?”

Benzine sat up, only to slump back in her chair, sighing. “Kinda? No… I dunno. I’ve been making lists for a while, but nothing feels right. It’s one thing being assigned a name by someone. Actually picking one out…” She trailed off.

Steffi cocked her head a little. “Have you been tryna' think of one from scratch?”

"No, I... hang on." Benzine dug around in her bag, then stood a dog-eared book on the table. 1,001 Names For A Bouncing Baby Girl.

Benzine stared at Steffi, dead-eyed. "Please ignore the name."

Steffi stared back, blinking. "Well, this is ridiculous." She pushed her chair out, standing up. "Wait here."

Benzine looked nervous. "Wait, where are you..." Steffi was already gone. She returned quickly, dumping thick textbooks on the table. One book faced Benzine. Bennett's Chemical Compound Guide.

"Wh... why are you looking in there?"

Steffi plonked into her seat, cracking one of the textbooks. "Because, Benzine, you've accepted you're a girl, but you are yet to accept you're also a huge nerd."

Benzine wanted to argue. She really, really wanted to argue. But as she scanned the, uh... passionate graphic design on the cover, listing off names like Leucine, Thiazine, Ornithine, Simazine... the way they sounded. She had to admit Steffi had a point.

She really was a huge nerd. ------

Steffi drew her finger down the page. “Ooh, what about Chloe?”

Benzine's eyes narrowed. “Short for…?”

Steffi smirked. “Chlorine.”

The narrowing was followed by a roll. Benzine returned to her textbook. “What about penicillin? Could do Penny…”

“Bit mouldy, isn’t it?”

Benzine scowled. “I’m never sure which bits of science class you’ve paid attention to.”

Steffi stuck her tongue out in response. “How about Boron then? Short for boring moron.”

As Benzine snorted, the bell sounded. She sighed. “Maybe we need some second opinions.” ------

“What about Alkaline?” Techno asked. “You could shorten it to Allie.”

Benzine, in her Rock Blitz getup, sat on the park bench as the rest of Team Blitz perched on the fountain, poring over Bennett’s Guide.

Benzine pondered a moment before writing that down. “Yeah, that’s not bad.”

“Oooh!” Chandra cooed. “What about Strychnine? That sounds cool!”

Benzine smirked. “Keep reading the description, Swing.”

Chandra kept reading. “Oh. Yeh, maybe not.”

Steffi looked up. “What about Beryllium?”

Benzine’s face soured. “Isn’t Beryl kinda an old woman name?”

“You are an old woman.”

“Wh- I’m two months older than you!”

“Exactly, you need a walker.” Steffi went back to the book.

Chandra smirked. “Lookit this one! Asparagine. You could switch teams and be Outrageous Asparagus.”

“PFFFFFF” Benzine’s giggle was drowned out by the 10pm announcement. A mauve and orange barrier settled over the city. “Guys, the barrier’s up.”

The rest of Team Blitz remained focussed on the book. "Shush, Benzine," Techno said. "We’re busy." ------

There are diners and little cafes that stay open until 10pm, then open up again at 2am for a few hours. Some girls liked to wind down a little before going home, and the owners showed their appreciation for the City's defenders by keeping the lights on for them.

Tonight, Steffi decided to take advantage. Benzine was happy to call it a night, but Steffi insisted they spend a little more time poring over the guides.

Steam rose from Benzine’s mug, recently refilled. She had to stop sipping from it or she’d never sleep. “Hydrazine?”

Steffi grunted, face buried in Chemistry 201. That probably meant no.

Benzine yawned, scanning the index. Tryptamine. Auxin. Cysteine. Ferredoxin. Estradiol. OK, that one was definitely too on the nose.

She grimaced. She liked this idea. Hell, she’d been walking around named for a chemical all her life, thanks to her dork parents. But now that she was picking one out for herself… was it too much? Was this too ‘extra’ for her personality? Would people laugh?

Her worries were interrupted by an extended snort. She looked up. Steffi had crumpled over her book, overtaken by high-pitched giggles.

Benzine raised an eyebrow. “What? What’s so funny?”

Still giggling, face stuck on the table, she pushed her book over to Benzine. A finger stuck next to a chemical definition.

Arsenite.

Steffi could barely speak. “…ass… ass night…”

Benzine joined Steffi in her collapse into hysterics, the sort that only come at 3am. The two idiots called it quits soon after. ------

Benzine sat at a table outside Future’s Promise, resenting the morning. Yet more coffee cooled in a takeaway cup. She flipped through the baby name book idly, not really paying attention to it.

She sighed. The chemical thing was a nice idea, but after a day of searching, nothing had clicked. Ah well. She could keep going by Benzine for now-

WHOMP. Bennett’s Guide landed in front of her, open on a page. Benzine looked up.

A Steffi-shaped being loomed over her, bent and crooked, staring. Her face drooped, dark bags under her eyes. She did not speak.

Benzine eyes widened. “Were you up all night?”

Still silent, Steffi tapped the page insistently. Benzine looked where directed. A definition had been underlined, along with a few details.

ANILINE

...an electron-rich benzene derivative...

…primary component in the production of synthetic indigo (blue) dye.

Next to these details, scrawled in wobbly handwriting, was a nickname. ANNIE.

Benzine stared at it for a while. Aniline. Annie. She rolled them around in her head.

That was it. It fit. It felt right.

She looked up. “Steffi, I-“

Steffi held a hand up as she chugged a can of Raging Kiwi energy drink. A four pack had appeared on the table from somewhere.

With a pffhaugh, Steffi dropped the can on the table. “No talk. Thank me later.” She cracked another can, gulping it down.

#sleepless domain #fanfic #benzine #magical girls #magical girl #Transgender

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renjuseyo · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request a Lucas x male reader where Lucas is trying to ask reader to prom but reader always gets distracted by friends or is too busy with school activities. Then when Lucas gets the chance to reader says no. But reader surprised Lucas with a date at the place Lucas asked him to be his boyfriend. P.S. They are already together for 2 years. P.P.S. I love your writings stay healthy and make sure to take care of yourself

-🧍🏽‍♂️

prom ; lucas

group: nct / wayv / superm

pairing: wong yukhei / reader (male)

synopsis: yukhei only has one goal in mind: to ask you out to prom in the most perfect way possible.

genre: fluff

i had a bit of writer’s block with this one, but i hope this is what you wanted anon! ^^ as always, feedback is greatly appreciated~~

“my plan is absolutely foolproof. there’s no possible way it could fail.”

“that’s what fools say.”

yukhei climbs to a seated position on his bed, folding his arms in a huff. “why would you say that, dude? way to encourage a guy.”

yangyang doesn’t even bat an eye, adding details to a sheep he’s doodling on his economics assignment. “well, when you put it like that, it’s going to spite the universe and make your plan fall apart on its head.”

dejun nods in agreement, tapping on his phone. he’s probably texting that guy he’s been eyeing from his history class, or playing solitaire like the old man he is at heart. “the universe loves playing tricks on happy, unsuspecting people.” he sets his phone down to look straight at yukhei. “happy, unsuspecting people like you. i love your confidence, but i’m just saying. don’t get all mopey if something does happen.”

he crosses his legs, pouting. “i get what you’re saying, but come on, how can a simple promposal go wrong?” dejun and yangyang give him a knowing look, one that screams there are several things that could go wrong, actually. “if it were a big, extravagant one, maybe, but come on. i’m taking (name) out to sushi and bringing him a bouquet of flowers. what’s the worst that could happen?”

“well, he could get food poisoning from the sushi.”

“or he pricks himself from the flowers.”

“or he-”

“i didn’t literally ask you guys!” yukhei interrupts, exasperated. dejun and yangyang give him a mischievous smirk. “you two are horrible.”

yangyang blows him an air kiss. “just here to give you a reality check, my love.”

the two had originally gone over to yukhei’s house for a study party, but seeing how dejun was on his bedroom floor playing solitaire, and yangyang was doodling sheep all over his assignment, they were doing anything but. somewhere along their “study session”, someone had brought up the topic of prom, which was to happen in four weeks. while the two of them had no big plans for promposals (because dejun is waiting for the guy from his history class to make the first move, and yangyang is perfectly content being single), yukhei had constructed a plan to ask his boyfriend of two years to prom.

yangyang sets his pencil down and spins around from his seat. “what happened to your love for big, extravagant promposals? i remember you gushing about that kind of stuff all the time,” he comments.

“(name) doesn’t like being in the spotlight. i think i’ll just make him uncomfortable if i pull one of those stunts with people nearby,” yukhei explains. he would be lying if he said he’s never thought of creating the most memorable promposal for him. hey, it’s not his fault he just wants to flaunt his cute boyfriend for the world to see.

dejun and yangyang nod in understanding, except they don’t, because they relish in the spotlight. “well, prom is in four weeks. will you even have the time to ask him?” dejun asks. “your boyfriend practically drowns himself in homework. plus, he’s on the student council.”

“we both may be busy with school and clubs, but mark my words when i say i’ll get to him!”

“well, as taken as you and your boyfriend are, i hope you realize that there are still people who’ll be lining up to ask you two,” yangyang points out.

yukhei pats his chest, a confident smile making it way back to his lips. “i’m not worried that someone else will woo him. he has me, after all!”

yangyang gags. “gross. i feel sorry for him.”

dejun nods in agreement, cringing. “me too... yangyang, come on, let’s actually be studious and do our homework, unlike that one there,” he sneers, pulling out a pen from his pencil pouch.

yukhei looks at them, exasperated. “oh now you two choose to do your homework?! where was this attitude when i told you two to work on it earlier?!” he exclaims.

dejun shrugs. “i have no idea what you’re talking about. as far as i’m concerned, yangyang and i are students who actually focus on our work.” he gestures at himself and said boy, but the way he’s hunched over his economics assignment doodling more sheep completely contradicts his words. “seriously yangyang? work with me here!” he shrieks, smacking his back.

the younger hisses in pain, glaring at him. “leave me alone! let me draw in peace!”

the older snorts, swiping his pencil away from him. yangyang makes a noise of protest, lunging at dejun to retrieve his pencil, and soon the two are engaged in a fight, limbs tangled together. yukhei can only watch in disappointment. sure, he’s chaotic, but his energy is no match for them. their energy seems to multiply when the two of them are together.

yukhei turns his attention back to the calculus textbook on his lap, ignoring the fight ensuing before him. though his mind is mainly focused on the problems on the pages, a part of him recalls dejun’s words. there isn’t many reasons for him to be worried about his plans backfiring, but then again, the universe has always loved to meddle with people’s affairs. he just hopes it will treat him kindly this time around.

though it’s your final year of high school, you and yukhei only share one class together, to his dismay. even in the hour he gets to spend with you, you’re too busy focusing on the lesson at hand. there’s always lunchtime, too, but both of you have your own respective friend groups, so even if you two are dating, you two spend more time eating with your friends than with each other. he doesn’t really mind, but now that he plans on enacting his plan, not seeing you often will make things harder.

after the bell rings, signalling the beginning of lunch, he makes a beeline out of the door and dashes towards the cafeteria. thanks to a secret source (which is really just shotaro and really isn’t a secret), he learns that you usually eat lunch on the roof of the school.

when he pushes open the door to the roof, he’s relieved to see you with your friends. at the sound of a newcomer, you all turn to look at the door. “yukhei?” you ask, surprised.

his smile widens upon seeing you. “hey (name)!” he chirps.

your friend sungchan raises a brow. “not often we see you here, lucas. do you need something?” he asks.

“yeah, i actually need to talk to you, (name).”

you stand up, slinging your backpack over his shoulder. “sorry, can it wait? we kind of have plans,” you tell him.

yukhei gives them a quizzical look, which doesn’t go unnoticed by you or your friends. “it’s jisung’s birthday today,” jaemin explains. “we’re treating him to food later.”

he recognizes the name; jisung is a first year student who has become increasingly popular thanks to his position on the dance team. he’s also one of your friends and someone you tutor. now that he thinks about it, he recalls yangyang mentioning something about his birthday this morning, but he didn’t pay much attention. maybe he should have. “oh, okay. well, are you free later today?” he asks, sending you a hopeful look.

judging from your apologetic smile, he already can guess the answer is no. “sorry, we’re holding a surprise party for him later. i think i’m probably going to stay over at his house, too.”

renjun, who’s standing beside you, gags. “you two are so sweet, it’s kind of sickening.”

you turn to glare at him, who snickers at your look. “how? and you’re one to talk, mr. i-miss-jeno-even-though-i-saw-him-twenty-minutes-ago,” you spit. his expression is quick to contort to one of embarrassment, spluttering at the name of his boyfriend. yukhei feels like you don’t even realize his presence anymore.

to regain your attention, he clears his throat. “can you spare just a minute? i promise it’ll be quick.”

you turn to face him, but not before sticking your tongue out at a glowering renjun. “oh, s-” you’re cut off when your phone dings, and you glance at the screen to read the notification. a few seconds later, you look back up at him. “on second thought, i don’t think i can, sorry. chenle just texted me saying he and jisung just left mr. jung’s classroom. we should get going now.”

your friends nod and begin packing their belongings. once they’re all set, they walk towards the doorway leading back into the building, where he’s standing. they all pour into the small doorway, leaving you and yukhei alone. “sorry, how about next time?”

yukhei nods. it’s not like he can stop you from celebrating your friend’s birthday, unless he wants to be perceived as a jerk. “no worries, go celebrate jisung’s birthday. make his day a memorable one,” he reassures, smiling.

making sure your friends are far enough, you lean forward and peck him on the lips, catching him off guard. once you lean back, you smirk upon seeing his flustered expression. “catch you another time~”

and with that, you jog back inside to catch up to your friends, leaving a blushing yukhei behind. sure, his first attempt didn’t quite go the way he expected, but he’s not particularly disappointed, considering how he got a kiss from you. plus, there are plenty of other times to ask you again.

perhaps asking you to prom might be harder than yukhei had anticipated.

after jisung’s birthday, he had waited to catch you again when you were free, but you were occupied with homework, as well as duties of being on the student council. apparently jisung’s birthday was the only day you were free. as much as he sympathizes with you, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. he hasn’t even been able to talk to you, let alone treat you to a proper meal.

after several weeks of not talking to you, he decides it’s time to take matters into his own hands. if he can’t take you out on a proper date, then he’ll just bring it to you! after inquiring his friends yerim and mark for your schedule, he learns that fridays are normally your free days. he recalls the previous fridays where you were too busy to hang out with him, catching up on projects and avoiding deadlines, so he hopes that this friday you’ll be free.

after school one afternoon, yukhei catches you by your locker, talking to two people he recognizes from the student council. as soon as you see him, you wave the two farewell, and they go their separate ways. he leans against your locker door, smiling down at you. “hello my sweet~” he greets.

though you smile back at him, he can tell you’re drained, judging from the way your eyes flutter close and the yawn that rips out of your throat. “hi,” you greet. “sorry, it’s been a long week.”

he watches as you sluggishly shut the door. “tired?” he asks, draping an arm over your shoulder.

he hums in delight as you lean into his arm, warm and snug. “that’s an understatement,” you tiredly sigh. “i thought being the secretary was easier than the president, but i’m exhausted. all this filing and meetings can really kick a guy’s ass. i finally finished my biology report, but i still have to study for the history test that’s on tuesday. i don’t know how mark does it, being the president and captain of the basketball team. he doesn’t even have bad grades, either.”

yukhei laughs upon hearing you rant, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on the crown of your head. “i’m sure it must be hard. do you think your tired self is up for sushi, though?”

at the mention of food, you instantly perk up. “you know i can never say no to food.”

once you two walk out of the building, pushing through the swarms of students gathered by the entrance, you both head towards the bus stop. five minutes later, you both board the bus and are lucky enough to snag seats. in the ten minutes it takes to get to the sushi restaurant you two often frequent, he’s surprised to see you fast asleep on his shoulder. you really must be tired, because you don’t normally fall asleep so quickly.

ten minutes later, he nudges you awake (he has to refrain from pinching your cheeks at your dazed state), and you both step off the vehicle. five minutes of walking later, you approach the restaurant. for a friday evening, he supposes he’s lucky to have gotten there without it being packed.

you both greet the waitress by the entrance, who leads you both to a booth near the back. after serving you both your beverages and menus, she slinks away, presumably to attend to other patrons. as you browse through the menu, wondering what to order, yukhei glances at you, who seems too concentrated on the menu before you to notice him. he mentally reviews his plan for what seems to be the twentieth time today: order food, eat, pretend to go to the restroom and head to the flower shop next door, and woo you into going to prom with him. what could possibly go wrong?

(upon saying this statement, he learns that’s the worst possible thing you could say. at least, if you want the universe to mess with your plans.)

after discussing what you two will order, he waves down the waitress from earlier, who gets both of your orders. you two spend around five minutes catching up on your lives, talking about upcoming events and games at school. soon your food arrives, and you both dig in. he doesn’t realize how much he’s missed you until he sees the way your eyes twinkle as you happily recall the time the vending machine malfunctioned and gave you two bags of skittles instead of one. it’s endearing, seeing you get excited over the little things.

as you pluck some calamari out of a small bowl, he realizes it’s time to put his plan in action. “hey (name), i’m going to the bathroom. feel free to order some more food if you want, it’s all on me~”

“when you put it that way, it’s like you’re begging to go broke,” you joke, though you nod nonetheless. yukhei gets up and makes a beeline to the restroom. he stands in front of the entrance, peeking behind the wall to make sure you don’t see him. a few seconds later, he quietly sneaks back towards the entrance. luckily, you’re too occupied with the food to notice him.

he steps out of the store and heads straight for the flower shop next door. when he steps inside, the bell above the door jingles, signalling a newcomer. “welcome to yong’s flowers~!” a florist chirps.

“hey hyung,” he greets. the florist turns away from a pot of tulips, revealing a bright smile and even brighter hair. “i came here for the flowers i was telling you about.”

the florist nods, heading towards the back. when he returns, he brandishes a bouquet of red roses to him. “here you go!”

when yukhei moves his hand to his pocket, the florist waves a dismissive hand. “don’t worry about it, it’s on the house. i hope things go well with you and (name)~” he hums, giving him a cheeky smirk.

normally he would decline the kind offer, but he needs to get back to the restaurant soon, otherwise you’ll get suspicious. “thanks, taeyong-hyung. i’ll pay you back next time! wish me luck!” with that, he waves him farewell and exits the store.

he runs straight back to the restaurant, bouquet in hand. the waitress from earlier seems to notice the new addition, sending him a knowing smile. he pays no mind to it though, simply heading straight to you. he notices three new plates on the table, but hey, he isn’t complaining. you haven’t had the chance to properly eat the past week, if you count salads as a proper meal. when you look up from your salmon belly, your eyes widen at the roses in his hands.

it’s now or never, he supposes. he sits on his seat, bashfully sliding the bouquet to you. “i’ve been wanting to do this for the past week, but you’ve been pretty busy, so i haven’t been able to catch you alone. but (name) (last name), would you do me the honor of being my prom date?” he asks, sending you a hopeful look and a bright smile to top off the look.

silence envelops the room, save for chefs yelling and the stove roaring back in the kitchen. from the corner of his eyes, yukhei realizes that the lack of patrons means extravagant movements like his are bound to be noticed by everyone. plus, he wasn’t exactly quiet when he popped the question. he usually doesn’t care, anyways, thriving in the attention. even now, he has nothing to be worried about. besides, he knows what your answer will be.

apparently not.

eyes still wide, you slowly remove the wooden chopsticks from your lips, placing it on your empty plate. he assumes your eyes are still wide out of shock, but when the silence gets too loud for his liking, his smile falters. “(name)...?”

you rapidly blink back to reality. “oh, right, sorry. um...” you take in your surroundings, and he suddenly wonders if this was too flashy for your liking. he watches you with bated breath; you look like you’re doing some mental calculations, eyebrows furrowed like they are when you encounter a particularly difficult question on a test. after you ponder the several options laid out in your head, you take a deep breath, giving him your most sincere look. “i’m sorry, i don’t think i can accept this.”

those nine words and thirty-one letters are enough to crush yukhei’s spirit, evident by the way he visibly deflates. he quickly regains his composure, hoping the smile he has is enough to assure you he’s fine. but from the way you grimace, he can tell he’s doing a poor job at it. “it’s not your fault yukhei, i promise! it’s just...” your voice falters, and the same, contemplative look from earlier returns. “i have something important i have to do that day. i’m sorry.”

no one seems to have seen this rejection coming, and he mentally reprimands himself for thinking of every scenario except the one where you reject him. apparently he looks so devastated that the curious eyes from earlier immediately turn their attention elsewhere, probably not wanting to put him in the spotlight any further. sure, he feels embarrassed, but most importantly, he’s curious. what could you possibly have to do on prom? it’s a friday night, meaning you should be free... maybe you’re occupied with student council duties? but if that’s the case, you would just tell him that. there’s no reason to hide it.

maybe you just don’t want to go with him.

the thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth, but he tries to shake it off. “oh, okay. don’t worry about it,” he says, tone flat. you try to change the topic and compliment the roses and thank him for the food, but no matter what you say, the ugly feeling of disappointment still settles itself in his stomach.

the rest of your dinner is relatively uneventful. yukhei doesn’t want to make you feel more guilty than you already feel, so he tries his best to engage himself in your conversations. after you two eat your fill, he pays for you both (and is surprised to see that the waitress from earlier docks off the price of a few plates. does he really look that pitiful?) and leaves the restaurant. the sun has set, and it won’t be long before the sky darkens.

he approaches the bus stop, waiting for your bus to take you home. “well, i guess we part ways now. see you next week?” he asks.

you nod, clutching the bouquet of roses in your hands. though you had rejected his promposal, he still pushed you to take the roses, claiming he wouldn’t have anywhere to place them at home when in reality, he just didn’t want to be reminded of his failure. “yeah.” you send him another apologetic smile. “again, i’m really sorry. i promise you it isn’t because of you, it’s just...” your voice trails off again. “i have plans.”

he makes the mistake of wondering if these plans mean you’ve accepted someone else’s offer. no, that can’t be it... we’ve been dating for two years. he wouldn’t just accept someone else’s offer. (name) isn’t like that, he attempts to reason. pushing these thoughts away before he says something he’ll regret, he nods. “don’t worry about it, it’s okay.” as if on cue, the bus begins to roll up in front of you two before coming to a halt. “well, your bus is here. get home safe.”

you smile, letting a few people off before boarding the bus. “you too. thanks for the meal and the flowers,” you thank.

he waves, making sure you’re safely aboard before beginning his journey back home. as he does, his phone goes off a few times, and when he checks them, he sees messages from taeyong, dejun, and yangyang. he assumes they’re texting to see how things turned out with you and him.

yukhei pockets his phone and continues walking.

after that failed promposal, yukhei distances himself from you for a few days. seeing you will only bring unwarranted frustration, and the last thing he wants is to blame you for something that isn’t your fault. he decides to distract himself by hanging out with his friends. while his friends prove to be a useful distraction, he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss you.

no one knows why you’ve turned down his promposal. everyone who knew about his not-so-secret plan had fully expected you to accept with open arms. even your friends were genuinely shocked. as they chattered among themselves, wondering what could have prompted the rejection (because what secretive plans could you possibly have during prom?), he noticed that only renjun and sungchan remained silent. looking back, perhaps they knew more than they let on, but at the moment, he was too focused on getting answers from your friends to notice.

it’s been two weeks since that incident, and there are only two more weeks until prom. dejun and yangyang had came over for a sleepover, and right now he’s lying upside-down on his bed, listening to dejun rant about how history boy (who he later learns goes by hendery) finally asked him out to prom. yangyang’s sitting beneath him, scrolling through tiktok, unamused.

“it wasn’t anything extravagant. he asked me for a pencil like usual, and who am i to say no?” dejun begins.

yangyang shoots him an incredulous look. “anyone who asks you for a pencil everyday without making an effort to bring their own are just pathetic. didn’t you say he forgot to give you back your nice mechanical pencils for a week?”

he rolls his eyes. “yeah, but he paid me back by buying me a pack of twelve. and they were the nice papermate ones, too! anyways, as i was saying,” he continues, “i gave it to him like normal, and class went by as usual. but when he was returning it to me after class, there was a note attached to it asking me to prom-”

“and you’re swooning over that? i took you for someone who cried over love confessions in the rain, not promposals written on lined paper during history,” yangyang interrupts again. now that yukhei thinks about it, it does sound a little funny. like him, dejun has always liked romantic gestures. he never would’ve thought a written note would be the thing to sweep him off his feet.

he huffs in embarrassment, glaring at the younger. “be quiet. when you have someone to actually swoon over, you’ll understand what i mean.”

yangyang rolls his eyes. “good thing i’ll be single forever.”

now that they’re on the subject of promposals, he makes the mistake of thinking back to two weeks ago. “i’m glad to hear that you’re happy. i hope you’ll have fun with hendery,” he comments.

at this, dejun and yangyang quickly turn to face him. they seem to have remembered the incident, too, evident from the guilty look in their eyes. “i’m sorry, i forgot...” dejun’s voice trails off, and yukhei suddenly wants to erase the pitying look in his eyes.

instead, he waves a dismissive hand. “it’s all good. if it comes down to it, i’ll just take yangyang with me, right?”

yangyang shrugs. “or we can just stay at my place and binge video-games and order pizza.” he pauses to ponder his suggestion before shrugging. now that he doesn’t plan on taking you, there’s no reason to go and spend the night dancing in a stuffy suit.

just then, his phone buzzes. when he glances to read the new notification, he expects everything except a message from you. since that event, you both hadn’t talked to each other very often. while it was probably because you were swamped with school and student council duties, he can’t help but wonder if you were avoiding him like he was with you.

(name) <3: hey! are you busy right now? [06:59 PM]

“who is it?” yangyang asks, sitting up to peek over his shoulder. yukhei doesn’t move his phone away fast enough, because then the younger frowns. “(name) finally texted you after what, weeks of not talking to you?”

he frowns. “in his defense, i was doing the same, too.”

“yeah, but you had a reason to. because you were upset,” dejun corrected. “did he seriously not once question why you suddenly stopped talking to him?”

he rolls his eyes. “you two make it sound more serious than it actually is. plus, he’s been busy with school. it’s not like his world revolves around me.” he pointedly decides to not add the part where it’s the opposite for him.

you: what do you need? :) [07:00 PM]

yangyang snorts. “with a smiley? dude, you’re whipped.”

“shut up.”

(name) <3: i was wondering if you could meet me at the gym at school in an hour? i’m pretty sure i left something by the bleachers, and i don’t really want to go alone;;; [07:04 PM]

yukhei raises a questioning eyebrow. did you seriously not notice how he had been avoiding you? you’ve always been sharp, so this was surprising. dejun, who’s now seated on his opposite side, seems to notice this, too. “wow, he’s really acting like nothing happened. if he knew you were upset with him, he wouldn’t have contacted you in the first place.”

“if he left something in the gym, it’s not a surprise he’d ask me. i have a spare key to the gym, after all.”

“why do you have it? shouldn’t that be mark?”

he shrugs. “he always loses his things, so he told me to hold on to it.”

yangyang nudges his shoulder. “well? what are you going to tell him?”

of course yukhei’s going to go. it’s almost dark, so it’s not safe for anyone to be out by themselves. plus, as disappointed as he is with his botched attempt of a promposal, it’s you. he can never get mad at people for long, much less if it’s you.

you: sure~ do you need a ride there? [07:06 PM]

(name) <3: no, but thanks for the offer ^^ see you then! [07:08 PM]

he turns off his phone and looks up at his friends, who are looking at him with an expectant look. “don’t give me that look. it’ll be quick, i promise.”

yangyang rolls his eyes. “that’s what you said last time, and then you ended up sleeping over at (name)’s house. do you know how awkward it was, telling your mom that you practically ditched us?”

an hour later, yukhei waves farewell to dejun and yangyang, who decided to play video-games in his room to pass time. as he gets into his car and drives back to their school, he wonders what you could’ve possibly forgotten that was so important.

ten minutes later, he parks to a stop and gets out of his car. after locking it, he walks towards the gym, though he sees no signs of you.

you: hey, i just got here. are you here yet? :0 [08:20 PM]

not long after, you reply back.

(name) <3: hey!! sorry, i’ll be right there [08:20 PM]

unsure of what to do to pass time, yukhei leans against the gym doors. out of curiosity, he decides to rattle the handle to see if it’s actually locked. to his shock, the door swings open upon being pushed, leading him to a pitch black room. the alarms installed in his head, the ones from being tricked into a haunted house by his friends, go off in his head, but unsurprisingly, curiosity trumps his fear. thus, mustering all of the courage in him, he shakily turns on the flashlight on his phone and timidly steps into the gymnasium.

it’s dark and empty, like it should be. so why were the doors unlocked, he wonders? the janitor at school is quite meticulous, so he couldn’t have looked over unlocked doors. maybe...

no, this is not a horror movie, he stubbornly thinks to himself. don’t scare yourself like that! as if on cue, a loud thud echoes throughout the gym, and he stills, unable to move a single limb. this is it. oh my god, am i going to die?

from what yukhei can tell, there seems to be two - maybe three - guys, distinctly whispering among themselves by the corner. the alarms from earlier are urging him to bolt out of the gym and tell you he couldn’t make it, but fear takes over, and he’s frozen.

“...sungchan, you idiot! you’re going to give up our position!” a familiar voice hisses.

“it’s not my fault it’s too dark! you know long limbs and the dark don’t mix well together!” another whispers.

wait. now that he can hear them, the voices sound a lot like renjun’s and sungchan’s.

“renjun? sungchan?” yukhei nervously calls out. because as familiar as those voices are, they could very well be impostors that plan on killing him in the middle of the night. “is that you two?”

he can practically hear them freeze; if the lights were on, they’d probably be comically staring at each other with wide eyes. suddenly, a third voice can be heard. “i knew i should’ve asked jeno or jaemin instead,” he quietly grumbles.

he knows that voice all too well.

before he can say another word, the lights suddenly switch on, blinding him. a few seconds after he’s adjusted to the light, he blinks, and sees you standing underneath the basketball hoop, head buried behind a poster board and a bouquet of red tulips with rose petals scattered by your feet. renjun and sungchan are standing by the light switch, awkwardly waving at him. when he turns his attention back to you, his eyes widen at the poster. there are doodles of hearts and basketballs on its borders, but it’s the words in the middle that catches his attention.

will you go to prom with me?

“what... what is all of this?” yukhei asks, dumbfounded.

seeing how you’re flushed with embarrassment, refusing to remove your head from the poster, renjun steps up. “it’s a promposal. what else could this be?”

his eyes wander back to your shrunken frame, and he can see you timidly peeking behind the poster board. “um... surprise?”

still stunned, he slowly walks to you, shoes brushing against the rose petals. “i can tell... but, i thought...?”

knowing what’s to come, you sheepishly smile. “i spent a long time trying to come up with something that you’d like, since i know you like big, romantic gestures. i turned you down because i wanted to be the one who asked you,” you explain, fiddling with the bouquet.

“wait, wait. when you said you had plans that day...?”

“i was lying,” you laugh. “i didn’t expect you to ask me, so i just came up with a lame excuse on the whim. i’m really sorry for upsetting you, but i didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

now yukhei knows why renjun and sungchan were so quiet the day he asked your friends about your alleged plans on prom. there are still a few questions he has, but he’s relieved to see everything led to this surprise. at least now he doesn’t need to fret about his insecurities.

“how’d you get in here?” he asks, intertwining his fingers with yours.

you hum, relishing this newfound warmth. “i begged the janitor to leave the doors unlocked. i told him you had keys, and he knows that i’m more reliable compared to others,” you answer.

“so all of the times when you said you were busy...”

you laugh, throwing your head back. “that was the one thing i wasn’t lying about. school and the student council really was kicking my ass.” you point your chin towards renjun and sungchan, who wave. “they helped me with some of the preparations, like ordering the flowers and making the poster.”

yukhei nods. “everything makes so much more sense now... but i just have one more question.” you look at him with curious eyes. “why the gym of all places?”

you shoot him an incredulous look. “did you seriously forget?” judging by the confused look he gives you, you can tell he really did. “you remember the game against the jyp team two years ago, before basketball season ended?” he nods. “right before you guys played them, you pointed straight at me and asked me to be your boyfriend if you guys won.”

he flushes at the memory; in a stand jam-packed with spectators, he remembers only having eyes on you, the cute boy from algebra. prior to that game, you two were already acquainted, even going on a few dates here and there. there was an obvious attraction between you two, but no one had officially initiated anything until that day. he remembers you spluttering in embarrassment, having nearly everyone bore their eyes into you, as well as coming scarily close to losing against the opposing team. but alas, he and his team had triumphed, and while they celebrated, you bashfully accepted his offer and spent way too long making out in the back of his car.

he can’t believe he forgot that he had asked you to be his in this exact place two years ago.

he’s pulled out of his head when you clear your throat, brandishing the bouquet of tulips before him. “you never answered my question,” you whisper.

yukhei doesn’t even need to think about his answer. “of course it’s a yes,” he exclaims, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips. you giggle against them, wrapping your arms around his neck. there’s cheering from across the room, but he only sees you. right now, you’re standing before him, suddenly brighter than ever, and he wouldn’t trade this sight for the world, even if it meant having to go through two weeks of unnecessary frustration to get here.

it’s only prom, not a marriage proposal. there isn’t a reason why they should be acting like newlyweds, yet here they are. but even if they’re only third year students in high school, he knows, without a shred of doubt that he’s in love with you. even if they don’t truly grasp the idea of what love really is, the sheer fullness he feels when he’s with you couldn’t possibly be from anything else.

“you know,” he begins, “i asked you on a simple sushi date because i knew you didn’t like big, flashy things. but here you are, pulling this stunt because you know i like them. we’re just a perfect match, aren’t we?” you roll at your eyes at his cockiness, as well as his suggestive eyebrows, but the smile on your face tells him you agree.

yukhei’s peppering your face with kisses, and all you can do is giggle as you take them. “they act like they’re getting married,” he hears sungchan comment from afar.

“they might as well be. god, couples are so gross.”

“you’re one to talk. you and jeno-hyung act like that all of the time.”

“what! sungchan, come on, don’t joke around like that. we don’t.”

“yeah right.”

“but we don’t, right? ...RIGHT?”

#nct #nct u #wayv #superm #kpop #cpop #nct x reader #nct x male reader #wayv x reader #wayv x male reader #superm x reader #superm x male reader #lucas #wong yukhei #lucas x reader #lucas x male reader #renjuseyo : nct #renjuseyo : fics

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gukyi · 5 years ago

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tattoos together | kth

summary: you aren’t necessarily terribly particular when it comes to tattoos, and when you arrive at your favorite tattoo parlor one day in search of a new addition, one in particular catches your eye, but more importantly, so does the artist behind its creation. and slowly, you come to realize that art does not need sentimental value to be meaningful—it just needs to be loved.

{tattoo artist!au}

pairing: kim taehyung x female reader genre: fluff word count: 5k warnings: mention of tattoo needles a/n: a huge huge huge thank you to @guksflavor for commissioning me for this piece, and thank you for contributing to the blm movement !!!! for anyone wondering--this was commissioned prior to my drabble commissions post, which is why it’s longer. hope that you enjoy!!!!

When you go to a new city, your favorite thing to do is explore.

Unpacking has never really been your forte, because it takes forever and it’s not as if any of the packages contain a surprise. You already know what’s in every single cardboard box strewn around your apartment, from the old clothes you never wear to the single set of nice dinnerware that you never use because you don’t ever have guests fancy enough to require usage of them.

The beauty of the world is that it has so many hidden corners. So many hole-in-the-wall stores and secret alleyways shielded from street lights. Secrets unknown to even some of the locals.

So yes, the boxes against the barren walls of your apartment can wait.

They have been for the past couple of years, at least. What’s one more day?

Besides, if you hadn’t prioritized exploring over unpacking, you never would have found that little tattoo shop on the corner of South and Brooks, the one that looks more like a cottage-turned-overgrown-flower shop than a place where you go to get permanently inked. The walls are a pastel neutral shade, accented by exposed brick near the back and lined with drawings after drawings, new designs tacked over old ones, pages curling in on themselves after years of being hung up.

From the inside or the outside, it doesn’t at all read like a stereotypical tattoo parlor. No black walls, no leather, no gothic lettering on the door.

And that’s really the beauty of it all. That you would never know of this place if you hadn’t gone wandering, hadn’t decided that your unpacking of boxes could wait another couple of days (and maybe months, too). That there are secrets blanketing the city, and that you can learn them all, if only you keep your eyes peeled.

Also, the tattoo parlor is right next to what you happily designate as the best bakery in the entire town, but that’s just a bonus.

Still, Jungkook doesn’t ever seem to mind when you show up to a session with two coffees and a bag with two muffins inside of it.

The bell above the door rings when you open it, stepping onto the beige welcome mat onto the tile. It’s been raining the past couple of days, and you can make out damp spots on the fabric where people have wiped their shoes. It’s busier than normal, today, several of the artists fielding requests and questions from eager clients, pointing at the designs on the wall or handing them their own sketches.

But as always, Jungkook is free, loitering in the back corner with his hands tucked into the pockets of the dark jeans he’s wearing, as if he’d been expecting you all afternoon.

Considering you are pretty much confidants after so many years of seeing him, you suppose that he’s picked up on your predictability—if only just a little.

“What, don’t you have a job to be doing?” You ask instead of a hello, catching Jungkook’s attention immediately as you walk in, a bag of two scones in your hand.

“Don’t have a job if you’re not here,” he quips back, strolling over casually and happily taking the napkin-wrapped baked good from your hand. He eats approximately half of it in a single bite as you settle down by his station, a vintage vanity that Jungkook says that the owner found at a thrift store. It’s awfully beat up as is, but looks more at home inside here, little succulents sitting, pressed up against the wall, and ink stains covering the countertop.

“Touché,” you concede with a nod.

“What are you here for today?” Jungkook asks over a mouthful of scone. “You got an actual design in mind or just want me to wing it?”

“Am I not allowed to just say hello to one of my favorite people in the city?” You tease.

Jungkook frowns. “‘One of’? Who else is there?”

“Me, of course,” you tell him happily. “You got any new designs I can take a peek at?”

“See for yourself,” Jungkook says, motioning to the wall beside him as you giddily skirt over to take a look. You’re in here so often that Jungkook’s long foregone showing you which ones were recently added—deigning to sit at his table while you pick out the new ones from the old, which sketches weren’t tacked to the wall the last time you were in.

There’s a couple of ones that you don’t recognize taped along the wall, or peeking out of the open binders that they have spread out on spare shelves and countertops, new designs of birds and flowers and snakes. But the one that really catches your eye is a small one, drawn on a piece of paper the size of a Post-it note. You almost miss it, half-hidden behind a much bigger sketch of an old grandfather clock, lines dark and heavy. It’s a simple line drawing, really, of the sun rising or setting along the horizon, its reflection shakily echoed in the water it stands above. It could almost be straight out of a scrapbook, a Polaroid of a real moment in time, a real sight someone saw.

“This one’s new,” you say, fingers reaching up to page at the edges.

Jungkook gets up to see what all of the fuss is about. “Oh, yeah, just added yesterday. You like it?”

“It’s pretty,” you say, unable to tear your eyes away from it. It’s so simple, so modest. Like a doodle that someone would draw in the margins of a textbook, like the start of a flipbook design in an old library book. “Looks almost like it was printed from offline.”

“You know everything in here is usually hand-drawn,” Jungkook chides.

“Reminds me of a photograph,” you say as Jungkook reaches out with his hands to take the design down. “You know, like some really picturesque scene on a beach. With the sun reflected against the water.”

“Can’t tell if it’s rising or setting,” Jungkook comments, holding it out in front of him.

“I think that’s the point.”

“So, where do you want it?” Jungkook asks. “And don’t say the bottom of your foot. I know you’re joking.”

You laugh, reminded of the time you had teasingly told him that you wanted a flock of birds tattooed beneath your feet, and he almost believed you before you burst into a fit of giggles. Pausing, you think. Where would you want something like that? Not your back, surely. To you, the whole point of a tattoo is to be able to see it. And not on your torso, either. You’ve grown rather accustomed to the feeling of a needle on skin, so the pain isn’t the issue, but a drawing like that isn’t meant to be kept secret. Not supposed to be hidden by your clothes.

You can’t say that you’ve ever kept tattoos particularly serious, plotting out exactly what you’ll get inked and which part of your body will make it the most meaningful. Tattoos are but another art form, one that uses the skin as its canvas, and not all art is supposed to be perfect and purposeful and mean something. Art is in the eye of the beholder. It is, above all, supposed to make you happy.

You love every single thing that Jungkook has drawn on your skin, and every single thing that was drawn before you met him. But this one is special.

“Here,” you say, pulling up the sleeve of your shirt so it rests on your shoulders, tapping the empty space on your upper left arm. It’s surrounded with tattoos, with flowers and words and pictures, but there has always been an open space. One that you were saving for something extraordinary.

“You sure? You know I can’t undo this as fast as I can do it,” Jungkook says, not to mock you but to make sure you aren’t making a mistake.

Perhaps it’s your impulsive nature, the part of you that doesn’t really care about making mistakes so long as you can recognize that they happened, that makes you shrug. That isn’t terribly particular over where Jungkook places the needle. Tattoos are for fun. Taking everything serious is boring, anyway.

“I’m sure,” you tell him, and Jungkook nods. He goes to transfer the design to a tattoo stencil as you wait, finishing up your scone. It’s a little harder now that you’ve waited a bit to eat it, not as soft as it was when Jungkook tore through his, but it’s delicious nonetheless.

As you’re waiting, you hear the bell above the door ring. You turn around to look at the latest patron out of habit, that instinctual people-watching urge that bubbles up inside of you.

You don’t recognize him.

Which isn’t a first, per se, but you are in here rather often and have come to know most of the regulars, at least on a first-name basis. You wonder if he had just wandered in after strolling down the street, noticed the flowerpots hanging from the ceiling or the walls littered with designs or the cracking white paint that makes this place look like an old-timey ice cream store. His eyes, dark and brown and mysterious, go straight to the designs on the wall beside you, as if he knows exactly what he’s looking for.

He looks down at you and the two of you meet eyes, his partially hidden by his caramel brown hair, yours looking up at him because it feels like you can’t turn away. There is something about him that makes you want to ask him to come here more often. Just so you can see him again.

“Oh, Taehyung!”

You turn back to see Jungkook returning with the design on a stencil, toothy smile widening when he sees the boy in question, a wave of familiarity rushing over his features.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung says, and the two of them greet each other the way that all men do, with that unspoken hand grab-turned-back pat. “Was in this part of the city and thought I’d stop by. See how my favorite skin artist is doing.”

“Ugh,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes, “I hate when you call me that. It’s weird and makes me sound like I make art with skin.”

“Don’t you?” Taehyung poses teasingly, making Jungkook shove him playfully.

“Shut up,” Jungkook responds, heading over to where you’re seated and placing the stencil down on the table. “Y/N here is getting one of your designs on her arm.”

That has you engaged.

“You drew this?” You ask, picking the stencil back up and holding it out to him.

Taehyung takes a couple of steps forward and reaches a hand out to look at the drawing in closer detail, before nodding. “Sketched it a couple of days ago. Jungkook said that it might make a nice tattoo.”

“Jungkook has terribly good judgement,” you agree. “I didn’t know you drew for Jungkook.”

“Eh, it’s not a job or anything,” Taehyung says with a shrug. “I like doodling things on the side. Jungkook being a tattoo artist is just a bonus.”

“I’ll say,” Jungkook says with a forced cough. “Y/N’s got a couple of your drawings actually, Tae. That one of the cherry blossoms, and the one with the teddy bear.”

“You did those, too?” You ask, getting more and more pleasantly surprised with every minute that passes.

“You kidding?” Jungkook scoffs. “Taehyung’s art is all over this place. My boss is actually getting kind of annoyed with how much real estate his drawings take up, but clients seem to really like them, so they stay.”

“So you’re saying it’s not my infectious personality?” Taehyung quips, making you laugh. He and Jungkook seem to go well together.

Jungkook sighs, a smile tugging loosely at his lips. “Get out of here, I’ve got a client,” he says fondly, motioning to you.

“Kicking me out after five minutes? I think that’s a new record,” Taehyung says, peering at the old clock on the wall.

“Don’t get used to it,” Jungkook says, even though it’s obvious that the both of them already are. Jungkook’s too kind, too sweet, too wonderful to ever turn away a friend. Even if he does have a client.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Taehyung says with a tip of an imaginary hat. His smile makes the blood rush to your cheeks, charming and for some reason, irresistible. “Hope that we see each other again soon. I’d love to see your tattoos.”

“I hope so too,” you say, positively enchanted, as he exits, the bell ringing on his way out.

You wonder why you hadn’t met him before. You suppose that you just always missed each other.

You sort of hope that, after this, you never do.

You run into Taehyung a couple of days afterwards in the bakery next door to the tattoo parlor. You’re standing by the coffee counter, chatting to one of the baristas who always teases you for buying two of everything whenever you’re there, when you spot him wandering in, the same curious look on his face. He doesn’t notice you at first but you see him straight away, recognize him instantly. It looks like he just accidentally stumbled upon this place, like he had been walking and walking and walking and when he looked up, he was inside.

You wonder if Taehyung comes here as often as you do. Wonder if he makes an effort to always stop in since he drops by the parlor on a regular basis. Wonder how long you’ve gone, cruelly so, just missing each other.

“Y/N?”

You look up to see him gazing at you, a lopsided smile tugging at his features. Next to you, the barista hands you your bag of baked goods, two as always, and winks before getting back to work.

“Hey, I didn’t see you come in,” you lie, hoping that he didn’t catch you ogling him as he walked inside. “You stop by often?”

“Whenever I get the chance to,” Taehyung says back. “I like carbs and coffee.”

“Then I suppose you’ve found the perfect place to be,” you say. And then, in a blaze of courage, you ask, “Are you just popping in, or do you want to sit down for a little?”

Taehyung smiles, warm and wonderful. “I’d be happy to.”

You snag a table in the corner, facing away from the barista who keeps sending you nonsensical and exaggerated facial expressions and gestures, because this is not a movie, and he is not your beautiful love interest who waltzes into your life and sweeps you off your feet. Even if he is rather beautiful.

“I got two pastries,” you say, tugging them out of the bag, still wrapped in napkins. “Want one?”

Taehyung chuckles as you hand one to him. “Do you always get two of what you order?”

“Hey, I like carbs too,” you tell him defensively, making Taehyung nod in agreement. Seeing as you bought them just a few minutes ago, they’re still warm, soft between your fingers as you pull apart the dough and slowly take a bite. It tastes even sweeter than usual.

“Do you come here often?” Taehyung poses.

“Anytime I drop by the parlor,” you add cheerfully. “And sometimes even when I don’t.”

“We seem to always be missing each other, then,” Taehyung muses.

“Hopefully that will change,” you add with a grin. “Jungkook finished my tattoo a couple of days ago. Do you want to see?”

“The one of my drawing?” Taehyung asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“What else would there be?” You say, pulling up the sleeve of your shirt to reveal the design. It’s only been a few days, so the tattoo hasn’t had nearly enough time to fully heal, but the sketch is just as prominent as it was when it was first pressed into your skin. It fits perfectly in the empty space that was there before, the lines filling out the blanks between the other pictures. Almost as if that spot had been waiting for the right thing to fill it. Almost as if it had always belonged there.

Taehyung’s mouth opens in awe as you show him, the skin still raised where the needle had pressed against it. You have to say you don’t really mind showing off your tattoos to others, especially when they bring you so much joy yourself, and people are usually more appreciative than disapproving, but watching the way Taehyung’s face lights up when he sees his design, his sketch, his art on your skin makes your heart beat something terribly fierce.

The beauty of tattoos is that it is permanent art. Art on the wall of a museum will need to be constantly restored, will be moved from place to place as people bid hundreds of thousands of dollars on owning it. But tattoos follow you wherever you go, will keep you company no matter what the circumstances are. It is art that is permanent, because it will never leave you.

It seems that Taehyung has realized that as well.

“Wow, I—” Taehyung says, rubbing at the bottom of his lip, unable to tear his eyes away from the dark ink decorating your body. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I’ll let Jungkook know that you really like it,” you say, pleased. “He did an excellent job, as always.”

“Why?” Taehyung asks, the simple question being the only word he’s able to form, the only thing he’s able to think.

“‘Why?’” You repeat, an eyebrow raised. “Why did I get it?”

“Why did you get that one?” Taehyung says for emphasis, pointing to the design laced along your upper arm. “Out of the millions of possibilities, why choose mine?”

“Oh,” you say, at a loss for words. It’s difficult to pinpoint why. It doesn’t have a terribly sentimental meaning to you. No long-lasting symbolism that has followed you throughout your life. You chose it because it was simple and easy and beautiful. Because you thought that it would be the perfect fit. “Well, I don’t have a great reason.”

“It’s permanent ink on your body,” Taehyung says. “You must have thought it meant something.”

“I just liked the way it looked,” you say. “It was so plain and modest, but it looks like a scene out of a movie. Like a moment captured in time. I don’t know—” you shrug, “—it sort of reminds me of a Polaroid picture. The sun halfway above the horizon. Its reflection on the water.”

Taehyung is speechless, a soft grin slowly inching its way across his face. He looks fond, looks grateful and honored. Like what you told him was the perfect answer.

“Is the sun rising or setting, Taehyung?” You ask, curious. You suppose that no matter what he chooses, it’ll be the right answer. That the sun can either be rising or setting, so long as you know that it will always return. If it’s rising, it is but a reminder that there is a whole day ahead of you. That you have so much to do and so much to look forward to. And if it’s setting, it’s to let you know that you made it another day, another twenty-four hours. The sun may be saying goodbye, but you can never lose faith that it will come back to say hello.

Taehyung seems to ponder for a moment, eyes tilting upwards as he thinks, lets the question weigh on his heart. And then he turns to you, a glint in his eye, and he says, “You think it’s the sun?”

And truth be told, you had never considered that it might be the moon.

In the stark black-and-white of a single-color tattoo, it could be anything you wanted. It could be a massive planet in another galaxy, could be a sweet chocolate ball sinking into a warm cup of milk. But Taehyung thinks it’s the moon. He sees the absent sky as dark, sees the circle in the center as the one that watches over you when you sleep.

The sun and the moon are the only two constants in everybody’s life. One will never be without the other. And they will always chase after each other, circling the sky every day and every night, eternally unable to stay together.

Perhaps it is the moon. Or the sun. Perhaps it is rising, or setting.

And perhaps that is why you chose this design. Because of its ambiguity. Because it can mean so much despite being so little, which is what art is for, isn’t it? To see something and make it beautiful in your eyes? To always look at the world through rose-colored glasses?

No matter what it is, it will remind you that you are never alone. No, even when you have nothing left, the sun and the moon will always stand by you, watch over you. They will light up the path in front of you and guard you on your journey.

“Well,” you ask Taehyung, smiling. You wonder briefly if that was the whole point of his design. For it to represent whatever the viewer wanted it to. And then you realize that of course that was the point. That Taehyung drew it like this on purpose. Tattoos will follow you for the rest of your days. So will the sun and the moon.“What do you think it is?”

You don’t see Taehyung for a while after that.

Not that you had been expecting to inexplicably bump into him on the street, or anything, but you were secretly hoping that your luck had changed. That you were slowly beginning to make up for all of the moments you missed each other, all of the times you were just five minutes away from meeting, always just a little too early or a little too late.

Still, you wish that you could see him more, or at least more often than you currently do, which is never. You know so little about him and yet there is something that draws you closer, makes you want to sift through the layers of dust between his bones, find out what makes his brain tick and his heart beat.

Ever since he walked into the tattoo parlor that day, strolling in with his hands on his pockets and witty comeback on the tip of his tongue, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. About how his art is etched onto your skin eternally. About how he does everything with purpose.

Meeting him was no accident.

Is it possible that you were always meant to know each other?

After a month, you return to the parlor, half in search of another design to add to the collection and half hoping that maybe your luck will change and you’ll be able to see him again. And if not, at least there’s always Jungkook to keep you company.

You drop by the bakery and pick up a very optimistic three scones, just on the off chance that Taehyung may be there when you arrive. Besides, you can’t imagine Jungkook complaining about free food, let alone extra of it.

But when you arrive, you’re shocked to see that Jungkook is busy working on someone.

“Taehyung?” You ask, his name the first word to come out of your mouth when you enter. He’s sitting at the same stained white vanity sleeve rolled up as Jungkook presses the needle against his skin. He’s wincing, in that way that people who are getting their first tattoo do, not necessarily from pain but simply from the feeling.

Jungkook pulls the needle away from Taehyung’s arm before the two of them both turn to look at you, equally as shocked by your presence.

“Y/N,” Taehyung says back, almost as if your very existence has taken his breath away.

“You weren’t supposed to come for another hour or so,” Jungkook says, checking the clock on the wall.

“Are you complaining to the person who brings you free baked goods?” You ask, making Jungkook shake his head in a guilty no. You saunter over to the table to pull out the scones, giddy about having rightly purchased a third, when you notice the design slowly being imprinted onto Taehyung’s skin.

It’s the same one you have.

“Hey, what’s this?” You ask, not necessarily looking for an actual response so much as wondering aloud. Taehyung’s getting it in the same place as yours, the upper arm, a single drawing of ink on bare, untouched skin. It must mean something rather special to be his first. “Is that—?”

“Don’t be mad at me for copying you,” Taehyung says sheepishly. “The more I thought about it the more I liked it.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you tell him.

“I don’t know,” Taehyung says with a sigh as Jungkook motions towards the needle, a silent question to see if Taehyung’s still alright with him continuing. Taehyung nods, letting only his eyes drift upwards to yours as Jungkook goes back in. “I mean, I guess it’s kind of impulsive, isn’t it? Getting a tattoo after seeing what it looked like on someone else. But when we were talking about it, I just thought about how detailed it really was. How it said so much despite being so little.”

“That’s what I thought about it, too,” you say with a grin. “It’s special. I mean, every tattoo is special, but this one is because it can mean whatever you want it to mean. Whether it’s the sun or the moon, rising or setting. And the beauty of it is that you can change your mind about it, too.”

If one day, you would rather the moon watch over you, keep the waves calm on a quiet night, where your thoughts are loud and heavy, then it will. But if, the next day, you want some light to shine down upon the field of daisies and wildflowers in your heart, then the sun will come out. No matter which it is, it will stand guard over you, protect you from what the rest of the world will try to throw at you.

“What do you think it is, Jungkook?” Taehyung asks, making Jungkook stop.

Jungkook looks down at the drawing, at what he is pressing into Taehyung’s skin, and he says, “I think it’s the rising sun. Telling all of us to look forward to a brand new day.”

You smile. “And what do you think it is, Taehyung?”

Taehyung doesn’t skip a beat. “I think it can be all four all at once—the sun rising, the sun setting, the moon rising, the moon setting. It just depends on what you want it to be.”

“You know,” you say with a grin. “We’re going to have matching tattoos now.”

“Oh, are we?” Taehyung asks cheekily, even though nothing he ever does is accidental. Not the sketch, not the tattoo, and certainly not its placement.

“We are,” you say, pulling up your sleeve for good measure. “They could be buddies. Hang out and take pictures together.”

“What about us?” Taehyung asks. “Can we hang out and take pictures together too?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” You pose, even though you already know the answer.

“That depends,” Taehyung quips back. “Are you saying yes to one?”

“I think I am,” you say, pleased smiles lacing their way across your faces. Taehyung is beaming, the discomfort of a needle barely even registering, as he grins at you, charming and brilliant and bright. “And I look forward to it.”

“Me too.” Taehyung nods.

“I’m here to hopefully get another tattoo,” you tell him, raising your eyebrows. “If you want, you can stick around and maybe we can get tattoos together.”

“Isn’t that a bit impulsive?” Taehyung smirks.

“Aren’t you?”

And you think that, even though the universe kept you apart for so long—separated by minutes, perhaps even seconds—it sort of always knows what it’s doing. You were never not going to meet. It was just a matter of when.

And the sun and moon will never not protect you. It is just a matter of which.

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

#taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenario #v fluff #v angst #v scenario #taehyung scenario #bts imagine #taehyung imagine #v imagine #bts au #taehyung au #w: tattoos together

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ashintheairlikesnow · 5 years ago

Note

(@whimpers-and-whumpers) concept: Chris in college. He has to do a certain number of gen ed credits to get his degree. He ends up in a mythology class. Chris has a breakdown when the class discussion turns to Baldur, Norse god of light and purity.

CW: Referenced past pet whump, traumatic memories, vaaaaague suggestions about past noncon, past whump of a minor, brief internalized ableism, warning for past Oliver being a fucking creep

“Well, this one just has a stupid name,” Ben says, squinting at his mythology textbook, tapping at a page.

“What, what is it?” Chris and Ben are ‘studying’ together, which today mostly means Ben is studying and Chris is thinking about Laken’s arms when they wear a tank top.

Ben is on is stomach on his bed, book open in front of him, while Chris lays on his back on the surprisingly plush shaggy rug that Ben bought at Target three weeks ago. Chris could sleep on this thing if he wanted, it’s so comfortable. Not that Chris can’t sleep pretty much anywhere.

Chris closes his eyes, thinking about Laken’s smile, with their slightly crooked incisor tooth on the one side, when Ben says, “Baldur.”

Chris’s eyes open back up.

Baldur, darlin’. His Sir is calling him, hand on his head, waking him from his doze hidden under his desk, curled into a ball in the safe, dark space. Baldur, wake up, sweetheart, were you dreaming again?

“Why would you name a god Bald-er? Like, celebrate not having hair, I guess. What a stupid name.”

Nicky’s voice, wrinkling his nose, saying I’m not going to call you that when he heard.

“That’s not, um, not what it, it, it means,” Chris says. Ben doesn’t use the overhead light when Chris is in his room - it buzzes in a way that gets under Chris’s skin. Instead, he uses warm yellowy lamps, and opens the curtains over the window to let outside light in.

“Oh, you know this?” Ben looks up, and Chris’s face is carefully schooled emptiness, as much as it can be. Ben doesn’t know what to look for, so he doesn’t see it, and that’s what matters.

“Yep,” Chris says, shifting uneasily. Laying on his back suddenly feels wrong and also entirely right, exactly how he’s meant to be. He catches himself and pushes up to seated, looking out Ben’s window, focusing on the blue sky, slivers of white clouds, the gentle rattle of wind against the window when it gusts.

He reminds himself that he can go out there whenever he wants.

“Well... tell me something about him that’s more interesting than this stupid paragraph.” Ben taps the page again.

Sir, can, can, can you-... can you, can-

Words, Baldur. Do you need to practice with the metronome again?

No! No... no thank you... Sir. I, I can... can you... tell me about... the mistletoe, again?

Much better. Of course I can, darlin’. Come kneel here next to me.

“Baldur is, um, is, is... Old Norse it means, um, ‘brave’.” Chris sighs, fiddling with the seam of his pants, shifting his hands up to rub at a rough spot on his knee, then up to the feather necklace he’s always wearing, rubbing at the textured, carved plastic carefully. “Or, you know, in, um, in... sometimes they, they think, it’s the same as, as... same root as Belobog-”

“The same what as what now?”

“Um, Belobog is, um, is, is, is... is is is, is a, a day... a god of day. Slavic. Um. But, but so, so there’s this idea that maybe Baldur meant, um, Baltas, or, um, an older word like it, because Baldur was, was... beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” Ben watches him with interest, but Chris doesn’t look at him. His Sir’s voice is in his ear, a hand tipping up his chin. Somewhere his Sir is... is still there, not in the big mansion with the hallway anymore, but... he’s somewhere. And Chris can feel him.

“Yeah,” Chris says, almost breathes. “Baldur was, was, was, was... was the most beautiful god.” He feels every line of his face, that his Sir once traced with his fingertips. He’s pretty. He knows he’s pretty. Too beautiful to be for anything else, sweetheart.

“Wow. So, what else do you know about him?”

It starts like this, darlin’. Baldur had a dream...

“Baldur... had a dream,” Chris says, and his voice shifts, slows down. He goes still where he sits on the rug, staring outside at the sky through Ben’s window. He sits perfectly still, breathing in a slow, even in-and-out, as if guided by the ticking of the metronome all over again. “He dreamed... about dying. And his mother did, too. His mother... dreamed his, his death. Just, just like he did.”

Ben’s face is serious and thoughtful, watching as Chris’s thumb stops rubbing at the feather necklace, and it drops back to thump against his chest.

“He was... sad, because the gods... the, the, the gods-... sorry, wrong, um, bad words, I just-... the gods...”

The gods dream in prophecy, Baldur, pretty thing. Never forget. Gods dream futures.

Yes, yes, yes, Sir.

And I dreamed your future, so what does that make me, sweetheart?

Did Sir ever dream this?

“The gods dream in prophecy,” Chris says, echoing his Sir’s voice in his head. “Frigg was, was, was scared.”

“Wait, that’s-” Ben turned pages in his notebook. “You mean Freya?”

“Frigga, Frija, Frigg,” Chris mumbles. The sky outside the window seems so far away, now.

“She, um, she went around and asked... asked, um, everything on Earth to, to... to promise they would never, never hurt Baldur. And... everything did, except... mistletoe.”

“Mistletoe? Like, the shit you kiss under at New Year’s?”

“Right. Everything but, but mistletoe.” He pulls his knees tight to his chest and sits like that, feeling Sir’s hand drift over the back of his neck, two fingers crook underneath soft leather of a collar Chris no longer wears. “It was... small, and a soft, soft thing, unimportant. When... when Loki-”

“Oh, I know who he is,” Ben says confidently, smiling now - but there’s a hint of something like worry in his eyes as he takes in Chris sitting perfectly still, like he’s carved from stone.

“When, when Loki heard... he had a, a, a spear made of mistletoe. Loki didn’t, didn’t want to get in trouble for murder, so, um... so, so, so so so he gave the spear to, to, to Baldur’s brother, who was blind. Everyone threw things, at, at Baldur, and it bounced off, and Baldur’s smile was... was like the sun. Everyone loved him.”

Who could ever love you, pretty pet, but me?

“Baldur’s brother threw the, the spear. And killed him.”

Ben blinks, shifts forward. “He did? Holy shit.”

“Um, yes. Because, because the mistletoe-”

“Right. Because the mistletoe never promised not to hurt-... wow, that’s dark shit. Loki did that on purpose?”

“Yeah, he, um, he’s Loki. So. But, so, so, so... so this person, Baldur’s own family, um... killed him.”

“Yeah... shit. What happened after that?”

Chris rubs at the back of his neck, and feels the warmth of his Sir’s palm press over his hand, feels his mouth press a kiss to Chris’s coppery hair-

No, his hair is blue now. He did it himself. His hair is blue.

“Baldur,” He whispers, “went, went, went to, to, to... to... to hell-... I mean, um, to, to Hel, the goddess of the underworld. She, she, she saw his beauty and-... kept him. Be, beside her. And... and he couldn’t, couldn’t escape it, and come back, unless everything on earth cried for, for, for, for... for his loss. But one giant refused. So...” He trails off. “That’s, um, that’s... there’s more, but... yeah.”

“Wow.”

Chris swallows.

Well done, darlin’. You’ve never forgotten a single thing you learned for me...

“How do you know all this shit about fucking Norse gods, Chris?” Ben taps his pen on his paper, looking at his own sharp, angular handwriting, the notes he’s been taking all along.

Unlike Chris’s notebooks, covered in loopy scrawling writing and with the margins full of doodles of shapes and little drawings of animals, Ben’s margins are as neat and empty as they can be.

Chris usually feels like what his hand draws, a constant movement, a constant shift, filling his life in with his motion. Right now, though, he feels like Ben’s margins, empty open space. Paint over what was there before, and nothing’s left but the blank spots.

Chris shrugs. He pretends he doesn’t feel the soft weight of his Sir’s hand, resting just over the back of his neck, the brush of his lips over Chris’s earlobe, the whisper of his voice sending a shiver down his spine.

Beautiful boy. Would you like to hear about how Odin got his eight-legged horse today, darlin’?

Yes, yes... yes, Sir. Tell... tell me, tell, but can I... after can you tell me about, about Baldur again?

Silly boy. Of course I can. Lay down on your back for me.

“I, I knew someone,” Chris says, his heart skipping a beat. He can almost feel himself leaning back into a phantom hand through his hair, ready to lay down on navy silk sheets, like none of the good things ever happened.

Like he’s still a beautiful boy, living in hell.

He breathes in, and then out. Tries to replace the feeling of Sir’s arms around him with the daydream he’s been having about Laken’s arms instead.

“I knew someone who, um... who liked the, the stories about Baldur. A, a long time ago.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. A, um... a kid.”

“Like, a brother? I thought you just had your adopted brothers.”

“Um, no, not, not, not... not my brother.” Chris grips onto his feather necklace, again. He can almost feel the warmth of Laken’s skin when they accidentally bump against him in line to get dinner at the dining hall. “Not my brother. Just... just, um, a kid... who was kind of like me.”

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary - @whimpers-and-whumpers

(Nicky - briefly referenced here - is @orchidscript’s OC Henry)

#whump #recovering whumpee #trauma recovery #chris the strawberry blond romantic #traumatic memories #oliver branch is gross #past noncon reference #past pet whump #trauma recovery whump #flashbacks tw #ptsd tw

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