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lilosaur · 4 years ago

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◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(*´∇`)ﾉ is it okay for me to request scenarios for mitsuya, inui, angry and kazutora helping their s/o who struggles with online classes? many thanks if you decide to do this one 💖💖

Yess! This was something I could relate too so much, I prefer in person myself it was such a struggle for me doing online. Thanks for requesting! 🤎

༑ ࿐ྂ。Helping You With Online Classes ♡.°⑅

⟶ ticket no. 11 ɞ

w/ Mitsuya Takashi | Inui Seishu | Kawata Souya | Hanemiya Kazutora

ʚ Mitsuya Takashi ɞ

It was late into the night around 2:30-ish am your eyes were heavy and body drained and worn out while the bright screen reflected in your eyes. Your phone buzzed and you debated picking it up, your arms were so tired. Your phone rang again, maybe this was the third time? You were already losing your train of thought. You reached over to grab your phone, it was your boyfriend? What was he still doing up at this hour?

“Mitsuya? Why are you still up?” You questioned waiting tiredly for a response.

“You never answered my text love, I wanted to make sure your alright. You sound tired though, why are you still up?” He responded, you were confused you didn’t hear a sound of tiredness in his voice.

“Oh um I’m still working on some homework that’s due tomorrow morning.” Your voice cracked and your tiredness could be heard from over the phone “it’s kind of confusing though”

“Hmm do you want me to come over and help you with it?”

You didn’t want him to stay up any longer either, he had a busy life with taking care of his sisters and looking after his friends, you can probably figure this out all on your own anyways. “No no, it’s fine I’ll just be up a little longer.” You lied, you knew this would take a few more hours at least but you didn’t want Mitsuya to worry too much. You both said goodnight as you hung up the phone. You tried your best to look at notes, documents, and even looking up stuff online but everything was worded differently. Your teacher was honestly garbage she made everything sound so confusing when explaining.

It was almost 3am now, you only completed 3/9 of the questions on your assigned worksheet you didn’t even know if your answers were right. A faint knock could be heard from your window which scared the living crap out of you. You peaked through your curtains to see Mitsuya standing outside with coffee and a smile.

Mitsuya told you that he can help you with your school work, he may not have ideal grades but maybe he’d be able to help a little bit. If not then maybe he could email your teachers for you if you get anxious about it.

You and Mitsuya were able to get all questions done, he was so proud of you, for pushing through each day one step at a time. You two ended up passing out on your bed, what a nice night…kinda.

༚༅༚˳❃˳༚༅༚

ʚ Inui Seishu ɞ

You and Inui were spending time at a coffee shop talking about how your days were going and new stuff that happened. You had your laptop with you since you two happened to see each other at the cafe but you planned to just do some school work. You told Inui you were gonna do some work but you can still talk, he said he’ll try to be quiet as he pulled out a book to read. You were having a hard time understanding the concept and filling out open note stuff is so hard for no reason. okay but like open note stuff is so annoying like multiple choice >>>>

You about half way into a paragraph answering the third question but your mind hit a blank, you felt so confused. You looked back at other documents, worksheets, and notes you took but it seemed like this was something your teacher explained in class. Let’s just say your teacher wasn’t exactly the best at teaching.

Inui looked over to you and your facial expression said it all, the confusion all over your face and your leg tapping on the floor up and down.

“Do you need any help y/n?”

You didn’t really want to trouble Inui with your schoolwork even though you were heavily struggling, you took a moment to think about it but before you could even respond to him he was already walking over to your side of the table hovering over your shoulders and his eyes directed at your laptops screen. You looked up at Inui, you could tell he was really thinking about the question.

“I’m not really the best with this y/n but maybe we can look it up or ask someone smarter than me.” Inui said while looking back down at you, concerned and confused look on his face he couldn’t seem to decipher this problem either as it’s wording was very strange.

Inui helped you contact someone who was in your class and you were successfully able to complete both sheets of work. Inui gave you a nice hug afterwards to let you know how proud of you he is, he knows it’s hard for you with online classes but you still push through everyday!

༚༅༚˳❃˳༚༅༚

ʚ Kawata Souya ɞ

You had to cancel your plans with Souya because your parent/s wanted you to get your school work done before tomorrow morning. You’ve been struggling to even log onto your laptop and show up to your classes. Online school is still just as draining as in person if not more.

You felt so bad for kinda ditching Souya today so you made sure to send him a more detailed message about why you really cancelled and your so sorry and you’ll make it up to him. You just hoped he wasn’t too effected from this. Souya tried calling you multiple times but your phone was set on ‘do not disturb’ mode, you finally took a break from some of your work which your not even half way done when you FaceTimed him.

“Hello? Souya?”

“Hi y/n..” You heard Souya's low voice, he was definitely a bit sad over not being able to hang out.

“Are you done with your homework yet, maybe we could still hang out for a bit.” He asked politely.

“I’m sorry, I’m still working on it. It’s really confusing. But maybe we can hangout tomorrow!” You tried to stay positive knowing that this work was going to take a long while. You honestly felt so bad letting Souya down but your work had to be done.

“Hmm, we’ll maybe I can help you with it. I’m pretty good with anything y/n.”

You never really realized it but Souya really did have good grades. He helped guide you through what problems you were struggling with and he was even able to help you understand all the concepts better. It didn’t even take up too much of your time, you guys got it done in about 1 hour and your pretty positive most of the answer are right…sort of.

You two both talked for a bit before falling asleep while still on FaceTime together, after all it was still a school night. Souya was definitely very proud of you and happy to help, you’ve been pushing through this whole time all alone so he’s thankful he could help make it a bit easier for you! :)

༚༅༚˳❃˳༚༅༚

ʚ Hanemiya Kazutora ɞ

You and Kazu were getting a late night snack, you had taken a break from your time consuming study guides and worksheets, barely making it half way through part one of the study guide. It was a struggle but you’d hope that maybe after a snack with your lovely boyfriend you’d feel a little more motivated.

You guys decided to get brownies from a little corner shop and to share a soda. You found a bench to sit at and eat, you two chatted and somehow got to the topic of school. Kazu said he pretty much didn’t take school seriously at all and his grades didn’t really matter because he wasn’t going anywhere good in the future. You told Kazu all about your online school, you didn’t like it one bit. Kazutora understood where your coming from since he despised school just as much as you did.

You told Kazu you were kind of in a hurry because of your school work, Kazu took your little hints and insisted you let him help you out. He wouldn’t let you say no either, he knows you don’t like online school and you have troubles with completing work. Kazutora wasn’t the smartest but he wasn’t the dumbest either so he’d help you as much as he could.

You let Kazu help you and fortunately you were able to finish up most of your study guide and one of your worksheets. Kazutora offered for him to have a ‘talk’ with your teacher but you almost yelled at him to just leave it be..you’ll manage somehow.

You and Kazutora ended off the night with a walk around town talking about all your troubles in the world. Kazu told you how proud he was, you were able to get most of your work done even if it wasn’t right or you still missed some questions it was a start. One step at a time and you’ll be there soon, wherever your trying to end up in life if you just push on a little longer you’ll be there in no time.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this one. If you struggle with school in general just know your not alone, a lot of people have mental problems formed from school but I promise with a little bit of effort and if you push through just a bit longer you’ll make it to where you want to be. I believe in you all! :)

#mitsuya takashi #mitsuya fluff #seishu inui #inui fluff #souya kawata #souya fluff #hanemiya kazutora #kazutora fluff #tokrev fluff #tokrev hcs #tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyorevengers #tokrev x reader #inui x reader #kazutora x reader #mitsuya x reader #souya x reader

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eternally-writing · 4 years ago

Text

chain reaction 02 | jjk

genre: fluff and angst

rating: PG

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: college!au , enemies to lovers, series

word count: 4.6k

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: A semester with your mortal enemy, Jeon Jungkook, as your lab partner was bound to be an experience to remember.

banner by me!

read part 1 here!

If you want to be tagged in future parts, send me an ask!

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

When you had imagined what Jeon Jungkook’s apartment would look like, you had definitely thought it would look something like an evil lair (except messy, because Jungkook definitely struck you as the messy type).

However, upon stepping into his surprisingly well-finished apartment, you found the exact opposite case. Before this, you had planned to make a ton of jokes based on whatever you would find in Jungkook’s apartment. And the truth was, you still could.

Jeon Jungkook was an absolute neat freak. You watched the way he subtly shuddered as a fleck of dirt from your shoes travelled off of his doormat and you took note of how his kitchen counter was so clean you could probably eat directly off of it (which was especially rare from someone in college). If he had a roommate, there was no trace of him right now, as the apartment pretty much looked like a showhome.

“I didn’t know you were such a clean freak, Jeon,” you said with a smirk.

For the first time, you saw Jeon Jungkook look the slightest bit timid.

“I like to keep things tidy, I guess,” he said while rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand.

He gestured for you to enter his quaint but somehow spacious living room as he sped to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water (he may not like you, but he’d be damned by his mother if she found out he let a guest into his place without giving them a beverage).

You had a very clear game plan when it came to entering Jeon Jungkook’s apartment: Enter. Talk about the project (and nothing else). Grab the chemistry notes from the class you missed on Monday. Leave.

It definitely seemed like an easy peasy 4 step plan - except that all seemed to flow out the window once you saw the photo Jungkook kept on his coffee table. From what you could decipher, it looked like a high school aged Jungkook in a music studio, right in front of the mic, with some of his friends around him. You had never seen Jungkook smile as big as he was in that picture, and it even managed to pull at your heartstrings.

Before you could open your mouth to ask about it, Jungkook had already come over to you and slammed the picture to be face down on the table, leaving smiley high school Jungkook out of sight.

“An invitation into my apartment isn’t an invitation into my private life, Y/N. Don’t get it twisted.” he said coldly, dropping the glass of water hashly onto a coaster by the picture frame.

To be fair, you kind of deserved that (and looking into Jungkook’s personal life definitely wasn’t part of your 4 step plan to seeing him today), but he didn’t have to be that mean. As a peace offering you moved as far away from the photo frame as you could.

“Let’s just get this over with, Jeon. I have a pilates class in an hour on the other side of campus.”

Now Jungkook couldn't pass up that opportunity to make a joke.

“Pilates, mmm.” He let out an overexaggerated moan to make his point.

“ Think you can slip my number to the hot girls there Y/N,” said Jungkook with a smirk.

“In your dreams Jeon. You’re lucky if any girls will still want your number if you fail organic chemistry, which is what you’re going to do if we don’t work on this project.”

“I think you’re forgetting Y/N.” he said as he bent down, bringing his lips to your ear - “if I go down I’m taking you with me sunshine”.

Ignoring how his close proximity to you was making your heart race (it was probably due to anger, right??), you jumped away from him and pulled out your macbook.

“Our group contract is due tomorrow so let’s just finish that up and then I’ll be out of your hair okay?” you said with an air of desperation and potentially sexual frustration.

For the most part, you and Jungkook worked in silence besides the occasional sound of you typing or clearing your throat. Looking at the live google doc in front of you and the progress you both were making, you were starting to think that working with Jungkook might not be the worst thing in the world.

Jeon Jungkook and Y/N L/N : CHEM 251 LAB PRESENTATION CONTRACT

Topic - Green Chemistry

1. Answer all communication from your partner (emails, messages) within 24 hours

2. Complete all portions of assignments at least 1 day before it is due.

3. Any changes to your availability should be communicated to your partner.

4. Y/N will handle the background literature and introduction of the presentation.

5. Jungkook will look for future applications of Green Chemistry and direct applications of course material in the field of Green Chemistry.

6. Don’t fall in love with your partner.

As soon as you saw Jungkook type the last point on the document, you glared at him beside you on the couch.

“Seriously Jeon? I forgot you have the mindset of a 13 year old boy,” you muttered as he looked at you cockily.

You took a deep breath as your internal monologue started to run:

Okay, Y/N. you’re not here to let Jeon Jungkook mess with you. 3 strikes and you’re out of here - there’s no reason to need to keep up with his bullshit (especially since at least the first part of your project was over).

Jungkook had then had to add more rules to your group contract.

7. Y/N will give out Jungkook’s number to any hot girl at her pilates class.

You groaned and hastily deleted off the document.

That was strike 1 for Jungkook. 3 strikes and he’s out.

Jungkook was still relentless in his attacks.

“Seriously though Y/N, do you really not think I’m attractive at all? You really don’t want a piece of this?,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows and gestured to his body all too suggestively.

“Cut it out Jeon, I’m not dealing with your shit today,” you hissed, your eyes shooting metaphorical lasers into Jungkook.

Strike 2: He’s getting close.

“C’mon Y/N, what’s the chance that you’ll ever be able to bag someone as hot as me. I mean, look at me and look at you!”

Strike 3: you were DONE with Jeon Jungkook today.

Not even stopping to put on your shoes fully, you took one last glance back at him before you walked out the door.

“Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook.”

The glass of water he got you sat untouched on his coffee table, drops of water spilling onto the photo frame beside it due to his apartment shaking from you slamming his door.

Mirroring the new droplets on his coffee table, you found tears starting to drop across your face as well.

--♡--

Even though you loved your chemistry lecture, you’re not sure why chemistry labs had such a bad vibe to you. The most obvious explanation for this would be having Jeon Jungkook as a lab partner (especially after your last meeting, the situation speaks for itself). But what could be is probably at least part of the reason is because of what happened in your first year 8AM chem lab. After getting through a grueling 3 hour titration (that you messed up and got no results for in the end), you walked back to your dorm to find your (now ex) boyfriend Jimin in bed with your roommate, Soomi.

Needless to stay you left that day with one less friend, no boyfriend (and you had also gotten 16/30 on that lab… yikes), so chemistry labs did leave a little bit of a bad taste in your mouth.

It had been months since that incident, but even after getting a new lease and cutting any ties you remotely had to Jimin, you still carried the insecurity that Jimin instilled in you by cheating on you with someone who you thought of as a sister.

You had yet to run into Jimin against post-breakup, and had managed to successfully avoid him, until now.

“Y/N?”

You knew that voice all too well. Turning around, you were met with the sight of your ex, Jimin. As if that wasn’t bad enough, as you looked him over you noticed your old roommate, Soomi, hanging off of his arm. You had no clue that they were still together (you had lost all contact with anyone remotely related to Jimin), and somehow seeing them together hurt you even more.

Jimin looked even prettier than you had last remembered him; his prince-like hair shone in the afternoon sun, his charming smile seemed even brighter. Knowing Jimin was still with Soomi made you feel that he didn’t even feel a pang of regret for cheating on you, like he didn’t need to take some time by himself to reflect (like you definitely did) or stop to grieve your relationship. From your point of view, it seemed like you never even mattered to Jimin.

You suddenly felt self conscious of everything under the judgmental gazes of Jimin and Soomi. Those baby hairs that you didn’t bother to pin down with a bobby pin this morning now felt like they were sticking straight out of your head and the pimple that was poking through your concealer on your forehead suddenly felt like a volcano. In your mind, compared to Soomi, you looked like a hot mess.

Your brain was on autopilot for all the small-talk you made with the two of them, and you didn’t snap out of your trance until you heard these words from Jimin.

“I only wish the best for you Y/N”

You internally scoffed at this statement. Who the fuck was Park Jimin to say that he “wishes the best for you”. You took months to get over him and the hurtful words he said to you. Every mean comment and snarky comparisons he made to you felt like it was tattooed onto your skin and stuck with you forever. But now he was standing in front of you like nothing was wrong?

In a different world, you probably would’ve slapped Jimin across the face. But instead you rose above like your mom taught you to.

“You as well Jimin.” you said courtly with a nod, trying to stop the tears that were pricking at your eyes from escaping your tear ducts.

After receiving a small nod from Jimin as a response, you turned around as if you had somewhere to be (in reality, you didn’t have class for another 2 hours).

Getting as far away from Jimin was all you could think about at the moment, and you moved as far as your legs could take you in whatever direction you thought would take you out of your college’s quad, even as the tears falling from your eyes blurred your vision.

You didn’t know how to feel. You had imagined what seeing Jimin for the first time after the break up would look like; maybe he would grovel at his knees and beg to have you back (it’s not that you wanted to date him again or that you had feelings for him, but it would feel nice to feel wanted), maybe you would just throw a drink in his face and walk away like a bad bitch, maybe you could’ve flashed a new boyfriend in front of his face.

All of a sudden your phone started to ring. Your first fear (and somewhat hope) was that it would be Jimin calling you, but little did you know that it was something so much worse.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

“as if this day couldn’t get any worse,” you thought to yourself as you pressed decline. You had yet to talk to Jungkook since that day at his apartment (you didn’t even call to congratulate him on his

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

You groaned and hit the decline but at the speed of lightning again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

Seriously, could this guy not take a hint? You were tempted to turn your phone off all together, but settled for hitting the decline button again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

You realized that for whatever reason, Jungkook was not giving up, so you either had to answer him or listen to your ringtone of “Love Killa” by Monday X play every 10 seconds. Praying that your voice wouldn’t betray you, you took a deep (albeit shaky) breath and tried your best to wipe your tears before clicking “answer”.

“Look Jeon, I’m - uh - sorry but I really can’t do this right now okay? I’ll call you later.” you choked out, your voice obviously wavering as you tried to be as professional as possible.

Before you could press the “end call button” you heard Jungkook’s concerned voice through the speakers.

“Y/N, wait, you don’t sound too good. Are you okay?”

Ah yes, “are you okay” - probably the most loaded question a person could ever ask.

You probably could’ve kept it together if he had asked any other question, but his “are you ok” truly pulled at your heartstrings.

You felt your chest tightening but you tried your best to help the feeling subside. You had yet to show weakness about how Jimin had affected you to anyone, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start with Jeon Jungkook. Clutching at your chest and taking a few deep breaths in an effort to calm your racing heart, you continued on.

“Is that genuine concern I’m hearing from you Jeon? Be careful, you’re losing your bad boy persona,” you said as you tried to make a joke to distract him.

“Y/N, no. I’m serious. are. you. okay.”

You couldn’t handle it anymore. Sobs broke free from your chest and you heaved into the phone, your whimpers and whines striking Jungkook on the other side of the phone.

“I, I can’t- I just-“

The words barely broke through your sobs. Your chest was tightening and you could barely hear Jungkook through the ringing in your ears.

“Y/N where are you, I’m coming’” said Jungkook. You could hear the jingling of his car keys and the rustling of him putting on shoes.

As if mother nature felt your pain, the rain started pouring down on you at the same time.

You barely got out any more words to Jungkook, but he didn’t hang up on you. He just kept whispering comforting phrases, trying to calm you down from afar as you could hear his car engine roaring in the background (in another world, you definitely would’ve yelled at him for using his phone while driving). You barely even registered that Jungkook was there at all. Every memory of you and Jimin seemed to reopen like a fresh wound, and you couldn’t feel anything except the pain. All you could do was sit on a random curb by the edge of campus, your wails probably reaching the sorority houses nearby.

You felt broken. The sound of the thunder overhead mixed with your cries as the rain pelted you, soaking your thin sweatshirt. You don’t know how much time passed there. In your head, it felt like time was frozen, while for Jungkook it felt like he was wasting hours zooming through campus (he truly was zooming - a month later he found out that he had accumulated 3 speeding tickets trying to find you, but he would never tell you that).

“Oh, sunshine,” he murmured, voice laced with pity and concern as he pulled over his car on the curb in front of you.

You and Jungkook hadn’t even said a word to each other since the feud at his apartment, and you had absolutely zero clue how he even managed to figure out where you were through your jumbled phone call. But all you knew is that right now you needed him. You needed someone to give you a bit of comfort, and Jungkook was somehow here to do that for you. Despite everything between you twom you couldn’t hide the feeling of relief that ran through your body as you looked up and saw Jungkook in front of you.

Coming to your side, Jungkook crouched beside you.

“Jungkook”, you wept as he pulled you into his chest. It was probably one of the first times you had actually addressed him by his first name, which came as a surprise to him.

Holding you closer, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel protective over you. He couldn’t help but hurt with you as he saw your fragile figure shaking in his arms.

“You’re gonna be okay now Y/N, okay? I’m here. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”

And in that moment, on a dirty curbside off campus, you weren’t Jeon boy and little miss sunshine, mortal enemies and chemistry lab partners. Instead, you were just Jeon Jungkook and Y/N., and nothing else seemed to matter at the moment.

--♡--

To your surprise (and the surprise of anyone else who knows you), you and Jungkook had not been stepping on each other’s toes as much. What had started out as extreme, extreme dislike had turned into a mild dislike (maybe even a very slight enjoyment of his presence, although you weren't about to admit that anytime soon). And of course, you both refuse to acknowledge the “Jimin incident” that had occurred a week ago and you both refuse to believe that it may have had something to do with you and Jungkook not hating each other. Your emails stopped being signed off with “do your part Jeon, or else” and instead now usually started with “Hey Jeon!” and “Thanks, Y/N”

That brought you here, in your apartment on a Friday night, eating old pizza in an old sweatshirt, no bra, and some comfy shorts that had definitely been through the wash one too many times. Researching for your chemistry project, you chuckled at how much of a londer you would look to an outsider. Sending off the articles you found on Green Chemistry to Jungkook, you closed out the email with some casual pleasantries and then turned to continue rewatching episodes of your favourite kdrama. You definitely weren’t expecting a response from Jungkook until Monday. You were sure that someone like him was at a frat party (was he even in a frat? You had no idea). Either way, Jungkook probably was lounging around in some party house with like 6 girls on his arms, while you were doing quite the opposite.

Surprisingly, Jungkook was actually doing quite a similar thing to you. Instead of watching kdramas, he was watching Iron Man (for what was probably the 50th time), and was huddled under a makeship blanket fort like a child and scrolling through reddit. Don’t be mistaken though, Jeon Jungkook was definitely a partier, but he also knew when he needed to give his head (and liver) a break.

He saw his phone chime with a gmail notification. He took a brief scroll through the articles you had sent over to him (those were definitely work for another day since there was no way he could digest academic jargon without at least 3 cups of coffee in him), but he was pleasantly surprised with what you had come up with.

At the same time, the Facebook tab he had open on his Macbook also lit up.

It’s Y/N L/N’s birthday today! Leave a message on her wall to celebrate!

Jungkook’s jaw dropped.

It was your birthday and you were sending him chemistry research papers?? Jungkook chuckled because he could already think of 1000 bad jokes to make fun of you, but he also felt some other feeling that he couldn’t quite place.

Jungkook’s mother had always taught him that it was important to celebrate birthdays, and that is was bad luck that it was He wasn’t sure if it was just a farce that his mother had come up with to make sure that he still attended those family-wide facetime birthday celebrations once he went to college, but either way, he still believed it to some extent.

He had no clue why he was doing this, or how he even got here, but somehow Jungkook found himself in sweatpants and a hoodie in front of your apartment door at 10pm on a Friday night, cake in tow in one hand, his other hand out ready to knock on your door.

On the other side of the door, you were equally astonished. It almost felt like you were seeing a hallucination, as if your email to Jungkook had somehow summoned him to your door. You couldn’t help but rub your eyes in disbelief, just to make sure he was actually there.

“Jungkook?”

Bashful Jungkook seemed to make an appearance again as he tapped his feet in anxiety. And before he could stop himself, words were already tumbling from his mouth”

“Happy birthday?” he said as a question , posing it as if he didn’t know whether facebook was just playing a prank on him (which he honestly didn’t know). “Can I come in?”

You didn’t even really know how to process this situation, but all you could mutter was a “uh, thank you?” in a similar inquirable tone and gesture for him to step into your apartment. If Jeon Jungkook showed up at your door at 10pm on a Friday night, he probably deserved to be heard out.

“You can make yourself comfortable on the couch. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company otherwise I would have cleaned up a bit.” You were sure that Jungkook’s neat freak brain was probably frying itself into overdrive based on the empty now-empty pizza box sitting on your coffee table and stray utensils and crumbs on your kitchen counter. You felt a little embarrassed that he had to see this.

Mirroring Jungkook’s hospitality last time you were at his place, you brought him a glass of water and hoped that this evening would go a LOT better than the last time you and Jungkook were alone together in an apartment.

Jungkook’s cake was still held in his hands. It was a little cake from the 24/7 cafe on campus; he could only find one that said “happy” with little sunflowers and smiles, so hopefully the “birthday” part of it was implied.

“I, um, I brought cake - for you. I mean your birthday.”

You sat down across from him.

“Oh you didn’t have to Jungkook, uh that’s really nice but you didn’t have to do that,” you said as you leaned further away from the cake, as if it was an item that scared you. “I’m not big on birthdays anyways, just usually me chilling in my apartment!”

However, Jungkook was not planning on taking no as an answer. He tried his best to plead with you, but was still getting nowhere.

“you… you have to do it for my mom!” he said as he thrust the cake even closer to your face.

You tilted your head in confusion at his statement.

“I mean uh-, my mom says that it’s bad luck if you don’t blow out candles on cake on your birthday and that if you don’t do it then you won’t live to your next birthday. And um- i know we’re not friends Y/N but I’d rather see you alive next year”.

Jungkook tried to look as nonchalant and cool as possible, and when he realized his statement was a little too thoughtful he followed it up with a “i mean you could do whatever you want i don’t care it doesn’t matter to me”.

You were beginning to like this side of Jungkook, the one that was more thoughtful than he was a selfish, inconsiderate dude.

Taking the cake softly from his hands, you muttered a soft “thank you”. At this point Jungkook didn’t know whether you took it from his hands to throw it on the ground or actually use it for its intended purpose. As you leaned over to grab the lighter by your candles on your coffee table, Jungkook let out a breath of relief.

Throwing open the cake box, you lit the candle in the cake and stared patiently in front of it.

“Well Jungkook, I believe if I am going to be blowing out candles there should be singing too, no?” You joked with a silly smile on your face.

Knowing he had no way out of this (and to be honest, he secretly wanted to anyways), he began to sing.

You had never heard a more beautiful rendition of happy birthday in your life. Jungkook turned the most mundane song, one that you didn’t have many happy memories with, into a tune that made your heart start to swell with joy. You wished the song was longer, because as he stopped to sing you wanted nothing more than for him to keep going.

“Make a wish, Y/N” , he whispered.

You didn’t know what to wish for. There were a lot of things that needed to be fixed in the world, and lots of things that you needed too (like a new toothbrush, or the experience of true love). It seemed fitting that since you were only blowing out these candles because of Jungkook, you should at least dedicate the wish to him. So all you wished for was for you and Jungkook to get along just like you were in this moment.

You looked up at Jungkook from the cake, and from there all you could say was a sincere “thank you”.

The moment was all too sincere, and you and Jungkook could feel the atmosphere shift to one that was all too intimate and friendly for your relationship. As moving away from a hot flame, you both picked up your phones and mumbled excuses to move away from the situation.

Jungkook was the first to break the ice again.

“I don’t know how good this cake is going to be, the expiry date was at least a week and a half ago”

“Well Jeon Jungkook, if you brought an expired cake into my apartment, it feels like a right of passage that you have to try this cake with me.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from picking up a piece of cake on a fork and shoving it into his mouth. Immediately, his face scrounged up in disgust, and you could pretty much see him gag.

“That cream is… very creamy to stay the least,” he said as he thickly swallowed it down, grimacing the whole time.

His expression made you chuckle. There was something about the way his naturally fluffy hair seemed to move as he swayed like a piece of seaweed on your couch (a mannerism that you had picked up on quite quickly), that made you feel warm inside.

“Considering me sacrificing myself to this cake as a birthday present to you, Y/N”

The laugh that bubbled out of your chest almost made that gross cake worth it to Jungkook. And some words of sincerity slipped out before you could hold them in.

“Best birthday present ever, Jungkook, thank you.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

Taglist: @apollukee , @mrcleanheichou , @monvieesdaebak

If you want to be tagged, please send me an ask!

If you liked what you read, please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡

- Emily

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joshuas · 5 years ago

Text

lucky

♫ pairing: Lee Minho x Reader

♫ genre: college/university student!au, slice-of-life, crack, fluff

♫ word count: 3.8k

♫ warnings: Nil of note!

♫ summary: Let’s just say that Minho playing hard to get is not a good combination.

♫ a/n: The third addition to my Christmas oneshots! This is a slight continuation from my Felix oneshot. Written on three hours of sleep, so I hope it’s at least satisfactory ;-;. Enjoy!

♫ skz christmas oneshots: 1 |2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

“Playing hard to get is the best way to gain their affections,” Jisung advised his older friend, Minho, sipping at his iced Americano. “Yah, who are you to give love advice. You haven’t dated anyone.” Another boy, Hyunjin said, rolling his eyes at Jisung, “Hyung, I just think you need to be honest about your feelings.” Hyunjin nodded at Minho, leaning back in his chair. “No, no. They need to know he’s flirting with them - drop some pick-up lines, write them a song, be as cliche as possible. People like that. My mum said that my dad fell for her using this method of romancing.” Another one of Minho’s friends, Changbin, attempted to convince him. “You’ll scare them off if you tell them your feelings straight off the bat. Be cool and cold - it’ll pique their interest. Only then can you be all touchy-feely with your emotions.” Jisung countered, dismissing the other boys’ advice. Minho had called the boys for an ‘emergency’ meeting at the local cafe, luring them over by paying for their food in exchange for ways to confess his feelings to the person he admired. “Are you sure playing hard to get will work?” Minho raised his eyebrows at Jisung, contemplative. “Almost 100% sure, hyung! You won’t regret doing it. Y/N’s gonna love you.” Jisung beamed reassuringly. “By almost 100%, you mean like 30%. This isn’t a drama. Y/N literally only knows you in a school setting. How did you meet again? Oh yeah, you’re both accounting majors. Don’t you think it’ll be weird if you abruptly change your demeanour towards them?” Hyunjin questioned as Minho dismissed him, “It’ll be fine. Just you wait. Everything will sort itself out way before the holidays.” “Your call, hyung...” Hyunjin said, tone doubtful. “Seriously? Is no one going to listen to my advice?” Changbin said, incredulous. Jisung patted his back, “Just quit while you’re ahead, Changbin hyung.”

“Y/N and Minho, you’ll be partnered together for this assignment. Remember, it’s due on the 20th.” Your professor handed the two of you an assignment sheet as you exited the lecture theatre. “So... Minho, do you want to catch up later to work on the assignment?” You asked as the two of you walked through the courtyard. “Oh! Y/N, of cour—.” He cleared his throat, lifting his head high, “I mean. Sure, I’ll have to check my busy schedule and get back to you.” Is he trying to be pretentious or something? Forcing a bright smile, you patted his shoulder, “Great! I’ll see you tomorrow in class. Bye!” You shook your head, sighing as you walked away. Why can’t you just be cool, Y/N?

[21:38] (Y/N) hey, i was wondering if you wanted to meet at the cafe closest to uni for our assignment? [21:56] (Y/N) or... not?? i know you saw this message, minho... it’s not like it accounts for 30% of our GRADE and yk it would be nice if we could work on it and do well in it. just a suggestion though. it’s your call. “Hyung, you can’t say that! Seriously, this is the sixth revisit we’ve made to this text. Isn’t your whole brand just ‘playing it cool?’” Jisung snatched the phone off Minho, sighing as he settled next to Hyunjin on the couch, typing away. As soon as you sent the message, the whole dorm was in a flurry - Minho grabbing his phone as quick as he could to type out a reply whilst Hyunjin and Jisung (mostly Jisung) workshopped his texts “I don’t understand why he can’t just be himself. Haven’t you seen literally any movies? This’ll backfire majorly.” Hyunjin sighed, exasperated. “Hyunjin, do you want to be put in the air fryer for twenty minutes at 180 degrees?” Minho raised his eyebrow at the taller boy, daringly. Hyunjin sighed defeatedly,

“No, hyung.” “Good. How are you going with the text, Jisung?” Minho clapped his hands, spinning his desk chair to face Jisung. “Okay. How about you just... don’t reply and show up tomorrow?” Jisung said, his tone as if he had said the most enlightening statement in the world. Hyunjin scoffed, “There’s a difference between playing hard to get and just being plain rude.” “Well, I don’t see you suggesting anything.” Jisung defended. “Because this whole idea of workshopping Minho hyung’s texts and getting him to play hard to get is stupid. Why can’t you just be nice to Y/N and respond properly?” Hyunjin said exasperatedly. “I’ll just say ‘sure. i’ll meet you at 12.’ and be done with it.” Minho said, ignoring Hyunjin and looking at Jisung for approval. “Make sure that when you meet up with Y/N you maintain your cool demeanour. Actually... maybe we should tag along. It’s not that we don’t trust you, hyung,” Jisung hurriedly explained, “it’s just that... we don’t trust you.” “And that it’ll probably be entertaining!” Hyunjin added, smirking slightly. “Alright, you guys can come. Only because you’ll see how much I’ll crush this. Just make sure that you’re not in their line of sight.” Minho said, smug, shrugging his shoulders. “Five dollars, he doesn’t crush it,” Hyunjin said, watching the older boy exit the room. “Deal.” Jisung slapped Hyunjin’s hand.

You sighed, looking down at the time on your laptop. 20 minutes late... really? Does he think that this whole assignment is a joke? “Hi! I was wondering if you wanted to order anything?” A man with a dimpled smile approached you, holding out a notepad. “Oh! Yes. Um, I’ll have a chocolate th-“ “We’ll both have a chocolate thick shake, Chan.” You turned around, looking for the person that interrupted you, your eyes landing on Minho approaching your table. “Uh- okay! I’ll have your orders ready in a bit.” Chan gave the two of you a small smile as Minho sat opposite you. “So... I don’t really mean to pry into your personal life but is there a reason why you’re so late?” You asked tentatively, looking over at Minho as he distracted himself with his laptop. A long silence pursued as you fidgeted with a stray thread on your jeans. “Okay... you’re just not going to answer my question? That’s cool. That’s fine.” You looked at him, astonished by his coolness. You coughed, directing your attention back to your assignment. After a good thirty or so minutes of working solidly (and in forced silence), you leaned back against your chair, looking quizzically at the man in front of you. Dressed simply in a pastel cardigan, eyebrows scrunched from focusing so hard as he typed away furiously at the keyboard, occasionally nudging up the cat-eye glasses that decided to slide down his nose. Biting his lip in thorough concentration, he ran a hand through his glossy brown hair.

It kind of reminds me of really rich chocolate? Chocolate is nice. I like chocolate. Wait. What am I doing? I don’t like Lee Minho. You like Lee Minho, not me. Your gaze wandered, eyes matching his slightly concerned dark brown ones. You looked away, heat radiating from your cheeks. Clearing your throat you stared hard at the table, “So... have you figured out what format you want to present the assignment in?” Minho opened his mouth to speak, only to close it a second later, contemplative. “Well... we should probably assign roles, right? Seeing as both of us have just done preliminary research. If you want, you can do the write-up and I can focus on making it presentable and in a speech format...” You suggested. Silence. You rolled your eyes, annoyed, “Okay, seriously? Can you stop being a jerk for like one second and actually cooperate with me to get this assignment done? You haven’t spoken to me this entire time!” You exclaimed, exasperated. Minho’s eyes shifted from softened and sorry to a blank expression. “I’ll only talk to you if you...” He stopped, frantically looking around and stopping short of the flyers on the notice board, “Participate in the university’s Christmas art contest and beat me!” He pointed at a random flyer on the wall, describing the details for the event. “Seriously? That’s what it’ll take for you to talk to me?? Why can’t you just talk to me without doing all that?” You said, incredulous. Minho raised his eyebrows expectantly at you. “Fine...” You threw your hands up in defeat. “Perfect. And hey, may the best artist win.” Minho smirked, shaking your hand.

“You did not crush it,” Hyunjin said bluntly, laughing as Jisung reluctantly gave him what he owed. All three of them had congregated back at the dorm, brainstorming their next course of action. “I don’t know how you’re going to beat her, hyung.” Jisung sighed. “Excuse you, I can do art!” Minho defended. “Um. Hyung. There’s a reason why we aren’t majoring in art.” Hyunjin stated. “Well, then. What are we going to do?” Minho rubbed his face wearily. “Does it matter if you compete in this? You did say to Y/N that you’d talk to her if she beat you and there’s high chance of that happening, seeing your portfolio. Or, you know, you could just drop all of this and talk to them normally.” Hyunjin reasoned. “We’re in too deep for you to back down now, hyung. If you want to impress them, I think your best option is... taking up the art lessons that the art department are providing.” Jisung pushed, dismissing Hyunjin’s voice of reason for the five hundredth time. “Art lessons? I don’t need those.” Minho scrunched his nose in disgust. “Oh trust me hyung, you do.”

Sighing, you opened the door to the art workshop,

Why has my life come to this? Wait. Why do I even care so much for him to talk to me? It’s not like I... like him. That’s ridiculous. I could just do the entire assignment yourself and never speak to him again. I should leave. Art lessons. You’re really going above and bey— “What are you doing here?” You stopped short of entering the room, staring straight ahead at the man in front of you. In your direct line of vision was... Minho... making a newspaper crown with the word “VICTORY” taped onto it. You shook your head, trying to clear him and your thoughts. Putting on a fake smile, you sat beside him, “Sorry for being so rude. I was just... surprised to see you here. You must be really sure that you’re going to win!” You chuckled awkwardly. Before Minho could reply, a voice rang out across the room, diverting your attention, “Alright! Welcome to the annual art workshop. We’ll be focusing on pottery and sculpting these next two weeks, so...”

Well into the lesson, you and Minho were finally handed your clay and given free rein to do whatever, “So, do you know how you’re planning on presenting the assignment?” “We shouldn’t talk about the assignment here,” Minho said, staring at his clay. “Okay well, where else can we talk about it? You don’t want to talk to me outside of this place and you even made me participate in this stupid competition even though I physically cannot do art.” You exploded, exasperated. You sighed at his lack of reaction, grabbing your stuff and placing yourself on the opposite side of the room. You glared at him, Fine, Lee Minho. We’ll do it your way... for now.

“They can’t do art!” Minho grinned, dancing around the dorm room. “Wait, that’s great!” Jisung exclaimed, high-fiving Minho. “That’s not good, though— if they’re worse than you then you’ll never be able to talk to them,” Hyunjin stated, seemingly confused at the others’ ignorance, voice drowned out by their gleeful celebration. “Well if they’re so bad- that’s gotta be good, right? How- how’s the art going?” Jisung asked. “Uh-“ Minho averted his eyes, “really well.” “You learnt a lot?” Jisung asked, not too dissimilar from a parent asking their child how their day was at school. “Yeah, it was really... inspiring. I felt like Leonardo DiCaprio.” Minho said proudly. Hyunjin scoffed, “Don’t you mean Leonardo Da Vinci?” “Ugh, this guy- plebeian. He pretends that he knows art,” Minho scoffed, laughing with Jisung at Hyunjin, “No, I mean Leonardo DiCaprio.” “Come on man, when it comes to art, Minho knows best. After all, I’ve paid over $100 for his lessons.” Jisung placed his pityingly on Hyunjin’s shoulder. “A good investment. I won’t let you down!” Minho said smugly, nodding his head. “When all this backfires on you, don’t come crying back to me.” Hyunjin threw up his hands defeatedly, walking out of the room.

I can’t believe Lee Minho. I can’t believe he didn’t do this assignment. I can’t believe he’s pushing all this work onto me! He has enough time to do freaking art classes for an art competition, but not to spare two words to work on the group assignment. Group, being the keyword!! It’s probably because he thinks he’s soooo handsome. Wait. Not handsome! He’s not handsome- he’s ugly. Wait. Not ugly. I like his hair. Oh, and the way his eyes sparkle when he smiles. Oh, and don’t get me started on his build. Who wouldn’t be jealous of his jawline? ...Ewwww. What am I thinking? Lee Minho, I hate you for infiltrating my thoughts. You are a horrible Scrooge that refuses to do this assignment and I refuse to give you the time of day by thinking about you. Not that that would matter anyway with how you ignore me. Staring at your phone for the fiftieth time, you looked at all the unread messages you had sent Minho regarding the assignment. You were genuinely concerned with how he thought he was going to pass this course if he wasn’t going to do any work. Not that it matters - once this was over, you would go your separate ways. Sighing, you turned back to your laptop, pulling up a PowerPoint since he who shall not be named decided he was too good to work on the assignment. I better get a good grade on this or God so help me and Minho when I murder him.

“So, Y/N, how are you going with your project? That looks so... interesting!” Your art lecturer stopped, staring at your attempt to sculpt a snowman. “Please. I know it’s trash but don’t tell Minho. Apparently, I need to beat him at this art contest to speak with him.” You rolled your eyes, staring at the boy across the room, as he stared down his clay on the pottery plate. “Oh? Sounds like he’s playing hard to get!” The lecturer laughed. “Hard to get? No. He’s just being rude.” You scoffed. “That’s how I won over my husband! Trust me, it works. Make sure you contact me when you guys get married.” Your art lecturer teased, walking away. ...what? He can’t be playing hard to get... he’s just being rude, right? No one would go to such extremes if they were playing hard to get. He’s probably just pranking me for his friends. Gosh, guys are such jerks (not really, I love some of y’all). Anyway, focus Y/N. You need to beat him to talk to him about the assignment. A commotion at the door shook you out of your internal monologuing, as you observed a guy with orangey hair alongside his friend (or lover, I can’t tell) come and harass him about making them a... life-sized present?? “...you’re an art major right? This’ll be right in your ballpark.” The boy clapped Minho on the back before leaving, their friend/lover hot on their heels. “But I’m an accounting major.” Minho sighed, putting his head in his hands. Wow. Sad backstory. His friends don’t even care about what he does. Whatever, I don’t pity him or anything. Then again, I could help him, allowing us more time to work on our assignment together... Steeling yourself, you tentatively approached a stressed Minho, “I may or may not have overheard your conversation with your friend. Are you okay? Do you need help?” “Really? You’d do that for me?” He asked genuinely before clearing his throat, “I mean. That’d be cool. We can do it at my dorm.” You gave him a small smile,

“Okay. Oh! And while we’re at it, we should discuss the project.” You grabbed your stuff before rushing after a speedy Minho.

“Hey, Minho hyung. How’d it go with— oh! Hi, you must be Y/N. I’m Hyunjin. Minho’s talked about you a lot.” Hyunjin smiled, welcoming you into the dorm. Another boy cleared his throat, staring pointedly at Hyunjin, “Uh- no he hasn’t. We don’t know anything about you, Y/N. And Hyunjin, don’t you have an end of year formal to plan?” The other boy said, eyes wide and pointedly staring at him and the door. “Um... okay.” You stared at them wildly until Minho dragged you to his room. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N!” Hyunjin called out.

“So, I have a cardboard box from the computer set up Jisung bought for his studio. All we need to do is wrap it.” “Okay, let’s do that.” You grabbed the wrapping off the table before wrapping the box mindlessly. “Don’t do that! It won’t look aesthetically pleasing.” Minho leaned over, delicately plucking the roll off you, your heart beating fast as your fingers grazed against each other. Get a grip, Y/N. “Seriously? Aesthetically pleasing? If you put half the effort you’re putting in your art project and this into your assignment that is due tomorrow. We’d top the class.” You said, exasperated. Minho froze, looking at you like a deer in headlights, “It’s due tomorrow?” He asked incredulously. “Didn’t you see any of my texts?” You asked, equally as incredulous. “I kinda... blocked you?” Minho rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Oh my— you really— I— wow. Minho. Good luck with this. I can’t believe you! You are so- so... irritating!” You sighed, done with him. “...wait so, are you leaving?” He asked tentatively. “No! Because I’m a decent human being and I’ll feel guilty since I already said I’d help you.” You said, angrily grabbing taping the wrapping paper to the box. “Wait! Don’t do it that way.” “I think we’re way past the point of you telling me what to do, Lee.”

“That’s an interesting snowman.” Minho sauntered up to your display, his artwork— apparently, not his sculpture but a now ruined life-sized present, as you waited for the judges to approach you, not too dissimilar from a kid at a science fair awaiting their judgement. “Oh. So you’re going to talk to me now? I’m sorry; the results aren’t out yet. I haven’t beaten you yet.” You turned away from him. “Wait—“ “Ah, hello number 34 - Y/N? Explain to us what we have here.” A judge approached, looking at your ‘snowman’. “Here we have a snowman. Although it looks... unique, it represents the fact that as an individual snowflake, every soul is unique. Not all snowmen look the same— some have big carrot noses, some have miniature heads, some aren’t even made of snow, and are made of clay that has somehow collapsed in on itself. It is basically a metaphor representing how our society functions.” You explained quickly, making things up as you go as Minho stared at you, bewildered. “Wow, that was so powerful. Thank you, Y/N. Now onto you, young man. What do we have here?” “Um- well. It’s a life-sized present. It’s slightly ruined because it was just used by someone to proclaim their love of someone else’s pick up lines?” Minho raised his eyebrows, confused by his own experience. “Wow. This is— wow. I love it. Everyone! I think we have a winner here.” The judge called everyone’s attention over. “No, no! I refuse to win!” Minho said worriedly. “Oh, you’re just being humble.” The judge smiled patronisingly. “No! I’m serious because if I win, I’ll never be able to speak to the person that I like because I was stupid enough to think I could play hard to get.” Minho exploded, an awkward silence pursuing as the crowd slowly backed away, as the judge quickly placing a first place ribbon on before scurrying back. As the crowd dispersed, people talking amongst themselves as they had done before, Minho cleared his throat, stepping towards you, “Y/N—“ “I guess this is it, then. You know, I finished the assignment for you, by the way. It was submitted last night.” You forced a smile, looking away from the man in front of you. “Wait what? I already handed in the assignment as well. Last night I finished it all.” Minho said, confused. “No! You did it last minute so I don’t trust your submission but now our professor is going to be so confused. One of us has to take down the submission.” You blurted out, panicked. “Well... why don’t we go to the University cafe and read over each other’s to decide which one’s better. As well as that, you can tell me more about yourself, personally.” Minho proposed tentatively. You sighed,

“One problem. I can’t and shouldn’t be talking to you.” You said, raising your eyebrows at him. “Okay, I know I suck at playing hard to get. Like really really suck. But now I know not to follow Jisung’s love advice. Truth is, you really intimidated me. I was nervous that if I acted like myself and confessed to you normally, I would make a fool out of myself and you wouldn’t like me back.” Minho explained. “You- you’re an idiot.” Leaning forward you pressed your lips to his before quickly pulling away. “I think. You playing hard to get did work.” You said quietly, a small smile on your face. “Wait, so you like me too?” He said quickly, incredulous. “Lee Minho, you infiltrate my thoughts nearly every second of the day and I used to resent you for that. Although, I don’t really think it was resentment. I like you, Minho. I like you a lot... especially your hair?” You said quickly. He smiled, pulling you in for another kiss, this time longer, your heart soaring, as you pulled back, intertwining your fingers with his. “As much as I enjoy doing this, we should probably get back to the cafe and fix our assignment.” You said, leading him towards the exit. “Oh, yeah! I forgot about that.” He commented sheepishly. “You’re lucky you have me, then.”

➳ part four? | masterlist!

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tomthesoftie · 5 years ago

Text

laundry day

a/n: this took me like 2-3 hours to write - oops - i came up with this idea when i was drawing in my sketchbook, hopefully it’s good because it’s already 4 am lol

pairing: college!flirt!tom holland x nerdy!reader

warnings: foul language, kind of sexual not really, tom being a dick and a flirt, y/n has a shitty day, rip harry is such good friend

masterlist

pt.1 | pt.2

After a long day, you headed back to your dorm, taking a bath a soon as you got back. You had planned on going to the library to do some late night studying, or just reading, after your bath. Unfortunately, it was laundry day and you only had a white, cropped camisole and a short skirt, that was too short to be worn anywhere, left in your closet. You groaned having no other choice than to take those.

The day had been terrible for you. You had been assigned stacks on stacks of papers that were either due by the end of the week or 3 weeks, maximum. Then, when you were rushing to get your lunch, some ass cut in front of you and took at least 30 minutes to order, resulting in you not having any lunch and rushing to your class. After that class, you had 15 minutes to get to your next lecture, so you decided to get yourself a coffee. Thankfully, you were able to order this time with no interruption, but when you were walking to the lecture hall, a curly brunette “accidentally,” and harshly, bumped your shoulder, making you drop the coffee in your hand. You cried out, feeling your anger succumb your every emotion.

“Dude,” you exclaimed.

You were never the kind to fight back, but today had already been so shitty for you that you’d snapped.

The brunette grinned, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“My ass,” you rolled your eyes, clenching your fists at your side, “look, buddy, today has already been a very shitty day for me, so if you wouldn’t mind, at least sound sincere when you apologize for fucking spilling my only source of energy.”

“Sheesh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” he laughed, not taking a single word you had said seriously.

“You know what? Just fuck off,” you stomped away, remembering that you still had to get to your next lecture.

He snickered behind you as you walked away, clearly finding amusement in your indignation.

That brings you to where you are now: heading to library in a skimpy outfit with a strap of your book bag clinging onto your right shoulder. By now it was 8 P.M. and you still hadn’t gotten any food to eat. Although your stomach was growling louder than a predatory animal sensing danger, you were determined to get to the only place you could seek peace: the library.

As you walked in, Harry, one of your close friends was eyeing you weirdly. He had volunteered to work at the library, seeing he could do his homework and study there, as well as get in a few aesthetic pictures.

“What are you wearing?” His eyebrows furrowed, scanning your outfit.

“Don’t judge, it’s laundry day and today fucking sucked,” you groaned loudly, knowing that no one would be at the library at such a late time of day.

Your stomach growled, “You got a lion in your shirt, or shall I say piece of fabric?”

“I haven’t eaten lunch or dinner at all today,” you slouched, dropping your bag to the floor, “got anything I could eat?”

“Of course, I got to have a snack or twenty if I’m going to be working till 10 P.M,” he handed you two large energy bars, “you’re gonna need it.”

“Thanks, you’re the best,” you pulled a chair over to the circulation desk, where Harry was seated.

“I know,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes before grabbing you book bag, pulling out Pride and Prejudice, one of your favorites. You opened the book to the page you left off on and began reading. Harry had gone back to studying and taking pictures, mostly of you.

“Harry,” a voice boomed as it entered.

You had only gotten 45 minutes to read in peace. You mentally and probably physically banged your head with the book.

“Are you ready to go?” The voice continued.

As you listened closely, you realized you’d heard to voice before. You just couldn’t put your finger on who it was.

“I still have 1 hour left, Tom,” Harry stated.

You lifted your head in the direction of the familiar stranger. It was curly brunette, the one who had knocked your coffee out of your hand and given zero fucks about it.

“Who’s there, Harry?” you asked, staying hidden in your seat.

“Just my older brother, Tom. I don’t talk about him much ‘cause he’s a dick,” he said, raising his voice at the end, making sure Tom could hear him.

“Right, I’m the dick,” Tom mumbled to himself before snapping back, “call me another name and I won’t be giving you a ride home tonight. Also, who’s the girl?”

“Y/N, she’s my friend,” he replied, paying no mind to his brother.

Tom brought it upon himself to scope you out. He wandered through the isles of books and looked at all the seats in the library, finally finding you to be sitting with his brother. His eyes scanned your body, admiring the suddenly too tight tank top and short skirt on you.

“Hey, coffee girl,” he winked.

“You know Tom?” Harry glanced at you, confused.

“No, I don’t. I just know that he’s a douche who can suck and choke on his own dick,” you had tensed and your anger from the afternoon had started rising again.

“I’m sure you’d like to,” his stance not faltering.

“Son of a bitch,” you simply flipped him off, not wanting to put anymore effort into him than necessary.

He chuckled and brought a chair over to sit himself next to you. The warmth of his body was radiating off of him.

“Pride and Prejudice, a classic. I’ve never read it, though. Would you say the 2005 film was worthy of its positive reviews?” Tom tried to start a conversation, but you ignored him, scooting your chair away from his.

“C’mon, darling, if you’re still mad about the coffee, I can make it up to you,” this peeked your interest.

“How so?” You asked, placing your chin in the palm of your hand.

“You and me, tomorrow at 12 P.M, that french café near the garden. See you then?” He offered, arching his brow.

You sat silently, thinking about it, “Fine, but don’t think that this is a date.”

He grabbed a pen and post it, writing his contact information on it, “Whatever you want, princess.”

You snatched the paper out of his hand and began packing your bags. Forgetting that you were wearing practically a strip of fabric around your waist, you bent over and grabbed your bag, giving Tom a great view of your ass and the black, lace panties you wore.

Harry cleared his throat, “Y/N, your skirt.”

Your eyes widened in realization, “Oh shit, sorry.”

You stood up straight, pulling the skirt down as far as possible and started to head out before a voice stopped you.

“Also, feel free to wear that tomorrow,” Tom winked one last time before letting you walk away.

Your face was burning red and you couldn’t help but let your giggle slip through your lips. You were sure gonna wear this tomorrow.

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rhubarbbaby · 5 years ago

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Strawberries and Art 2

Jihoon x Y/N

Genre: College AU, Fluff Word Count: 4,2k Summary: Like every passionate art student, you spend most of your time immersed in your drawings and paintings. The day you meet Jihoon, your everyday life suddenly gets a lot more exciting...

All chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Chapter 2

The rest of your day had passed in a blur. Time had seemingly stopped making sense after you had met Jihoon. You tried to go on with your day as usual even though the world seemed to have readjusted itself along its own axis. Love at first sight was certainly nothing you believed in but the question whether a thing such as “crush at first sight” existed, did cross your mind more than once.

Your brain continued replaying the short conversation you had had with him over and over again. It was as if you had temporarily lost all control over your train of thoughts. You were not oblivious that the sudden change in your feelings was because of Jihoon, a boy who was still a stranger to you, nothing more than a fleeting encounter. And even though you were aware of all those things you still could not get yourself to stop thinking about him. Suppressing your thoughts did not work; you even caught yourself doodling some human outlines that suspiciously seemed to resemble him.

In the afternoon you had realized that concentrating was an impossible quest so you simply stopped fighting it. It took you between two and three seconds to come to the conclusion that, yes you did have a crush at first sight on Jihoon, and (god damn it) you couldn´t wait for the party tomorrow to see him again.

The next morning you woke up to three unread messages from Jo.

Jo: “You still up for the party?”

Jo: “I´ll come pick you up at 8.”

Jo: “Oh and I asked Hansol about Jihoon :) From what he told me he seems like a really great guy. Also he says Jihoon is this super talented songwriter which is just incredibly hot if you ask me…”

Oh my god.

You: 8 is perfect.

You: You talked to Hansol about it?? Jo!!! That´s so embarrassing.

You only had to wait a few minutes for her answer.

Jo: Don´t worry. I didn´t tell him you fell in love at first sight ;)

Jo: See you at 8

You: I´m not in love with him!!!!!!

Thinking about the party filled you with anticipation which had an accompanying taste of a mixture between nervousness and uncertainty. You knew that your brain was probably just overreacting, likely Jihoon would turn out to be boring, maybe even rude and you would have forgotten about him by tomorrow. But it has been a while since you had been as thrilled meeting a boy as you were now and you wanted nothing more than for him to turn out to be the person you imagined him to be. Another problem was, of course, that you didn´t have the slightest idea how you would start a conversation with him. You had never been the type to approach people just like that, especially not people who were as hot as Jihoon.

The party wasn´t until the evening and your thoughts were still circling around him like a moth searching for light. You knew you had some assignments due next week that you wanted to continue working on and so you made the conscious decision to stop letting your thoughts distract you, not until 8 at least. But it is not easy to lure a moth away from light; some would argue that it is sheer impossible.

You were finished with your art history homework at about 5. Somewhere far in the back of your head your mind tried to remind you of the portrait assignment which would have to be finished in a week. You knew the assignment would make up 30 percent of your grade and you didn´t even know who you wanted to draw yet…But you really did not want to think about that right now. A certain person seemed much more important at the moment. Also you still needed to pick an outfit for the party.

As you stood in front of your wardrobe, you suddenly had to giggle. The situation, you were in, reminded you a bit too much of one of those overly cheesy, almost ridiculous romantic movies. Of course the poor innocent girl didn´t know what to wear to the party her crush was at. Because you absolutely did not want to fuel the cliché any further, you quickly decided to put on simple black pants and a t-shirt you really liked. Finding a suitable outfit wasn’t too difficult, you thought.

Maybe it really was because your pants seemed to be a bit scratchy, or maybe it was because you had looked at yourself in the mirror once too often and had noticed that the back pockets of your pants were making your butt look weird. Whatever the reason for your decision, you changed your black pants for a pair of jeans in the last moment. Possibly, some of those cliché movie scenes were not as unrealistic as you had thought.

Jo: I´m here! I´m waiting downstairs.

You: I´m coming.

Downstairs you hugged briefly to greet each other. “You look pretty! Is all this for Jihoon?” “I´m only wearing regular jeans!” you replied with a smile on your face, your tone slightly outraged. “I know. I´m sorryyy. I´m just so excited already. Hansol told me some things about Jihoon and I think the two of you should marry.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “JO! I don´t even know him!” “Not yet!”

Hansol would be waiting at the party, which meant you had the ten minutes’ walk to exchange essential information. According to Jo, Jihoon was a music student just like Hansol but while Hansol had an understanding of rap and hip hop, Jihoon was considered an exceptionally talented songwriter. Hansol had apparently got to know him because they had to do a school project together last semester.

Your anticipation was now growing with every step you took. Going out was nothing unusual for you, normally you weren´t nervous or overly excited though. On a normal evening you would have met up with Jo, the two of you would have had too many sugary alcoholic beverages and then you would have danced until your feet were going to give out. Not that those normal evenings weren´t fun, but today was different. Today was different because for the first time in months you were looking forward to talking to a boy. Your heart starting beating a tiny bit faster when you could finally hear the dull music of the party that was already in progress.

“Ok, listen. I thought about it. When you see him, I think you should walk up to him and tell him that he owes you a drink because of that strawberry.” “Jo! You´re crazy! I´ll never be brave enough to do that.” “With an attitude like this you won´t…just saying. I really think you should give it a try. You can´t just hope he´ll come up to you …” You hadn´t thought about that yet. Yes of course you were aware that you might actually have to start a conversation but in all of your carefully arranged, delicately placed fantasies, it was always Jihoon who approached you. The possibility that he might not even intend starting a conversation with you was not something you had considered. A wave of anxiety swept over you. It felt like waking up in a bathtub full of cold water, which once used to be comfortingly warm when you got in. You definitely didn´t know enough about him to be invested in a hypothetical relationship that might never become reality. You needed to slow down. “You´re right. I´ll try to talk to him.” “No you´re not just gonna try. You´re going to do it.”

Hansol was waiting at the entrance. “Good evening, ladies.” He grinned. He hugged you before pulling Jo into his side and giving her a kiss on the forehead. “Let´s do this!” you smiled while trying to sound confident but you knew Jo was able to hear the pinch of uncertainty in your voice.

“I´ll go get you two something to drink.” With these words Hansol had left to find alcohol. Looking around the room you tried to orientate yourself. You have never been here before but it was obvious you were at a frat house. Hansol had mentioned some guy called Jackson Wang who apparently was the host of the party. You had never heard of him before but he was apparently really good at hosting parties, the people around you seemed to have a lot of fun.

Even though you would never have been able to admit it, not even in front of yourself, your eyes started wandering across the room searching for him. And just like in one of those exaggeratedly cheesy romantic movies, the ones you thought so little of, you discovered him immediately. He was standing far back in a corner where he was talking to some people. Yesterday you hadn´t noticed, you had probably been too busy staring at his face, but he was very small, which was funny because in the few seconds you talked to him you had found him to be quite a bit intimidating. Not in a bad way, he simply seemed to take up more space than he needed which was probably due to the way he carried himself.

“I see! You found him already,” Jo ripped you out of your thoughts. “Come on! Go over there and say hi!” “There are so many people with him. I´d rather wait a little…” “Fair enough. Then let´s go dance!” she smiled and pulled you with her onto the “dance floor”, which technically was just the living room. A few minutes later Hansol joined you again and gave you both drinks. “I´m going over there to talk to some friends. Is that alright?” he asked directed at Jo. She just nodded and gave him a short kiss before turning back to you. You immediately downed your glass to build up a certain level of alcohol, which you wished would help you speak to him at some point. You normally did get drunk fairly easy and so you could already feel the slight effect of the alcohol in your body after the first glass. After the third one, you and Jo could finally dance unrestrainedly and even though your gaze wandered over to him every few minutes you still lost any kind of tension you were holding in your body. God bless alcohol.

“Hey I have to go to the bathroom. You coming with me?” Jo asked. “Sure.” You held onto her shirts so you wouldn´t lose each other in the crowd. Slowly you made your way through the masses of sweating, dancing bodies. The bathroom was in the back so it took you a few minutes to arrive there. Jo immediately disappeared behind the bathroom door while you waited outside. You leaned against the wall and for a second you did nothing more than just breathe. You looked up at the ceiling and took deep breaths in and out. You could feel the alcohol in your body and the cool wall on your back gently pulled you back into reality.

“You came.” The voice tore you from your state of utter peace. The music was loud, you could feel the bass in your body, everywhere people were screaming at each other to make themselves understood, the voice that had caught your attention was comparatively quiet, calm and seemed to be very close to you. You couldn´t be sure that the sentence was directed at you, still your gaze shot to the side to see where the voice was coming from. Jihoon stood close beside you, also leaning against the wall. He was smiling at you expectantly. It was similar to yesterday, right off the bat your brain started to absorb his features. Every line, every mark, every twitch of muscle, no matter how small. For a moment (which lasted far too long) you simply stared at him. Fuck, what did he say?

“Yeah..” you managed to stutter an answer just before the situation drowned in a blend of an embarrassing and awkward silence. You were still looking at him, doe eyed, not knowing how to act further. Jihoon just chuckled and in that moment you could´ve sworn it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard in your entire life. “Why are you laughing?” you couldn´t help but grin back, his smile was contagious. “It´s just…you look cute when you don´t know what to say.” As soon as the words left his lips, your body literally catapulted itself into shock. Did he really just call you cute?? You were probably just lost in thoughts again, surely you were just daydreaming. Your eyes did not leave his face, you were certain you had misheard what he had said but his smug, maybe even a bit arrogant smirk told you otherwise. You were still lost for words. It must´ve been seconds and you still hadn´t answered…

His smile was fading a little. “Hey sorry if I overstepped any boundaries, I know we don´t know each other yet, also I´m a bit drunk.” Now it was your turn to laugh. “It´s ok. I think you´re cute too.” You had not even the faintest idea where your sudden confidence was coming from (you would probably have to thank the alcohol for it tomorrow morning). “You think I´m cute, huh?” he asked, and you couldn´t help but wonder again how he could be so fucking hot. The hands in his pockets, his collarbones peeking out slightly above his neckline, the smug smile with which he was looking at you. “So, will you let me buy you a drink?” Just as you were about to answer, Jo came out the bathroom door again. “I´m ready! Let´s…,” she stopped mid-sentence when she saw who was standing next to you. Her surprised look quickly changed into a knowing grin. “Uhm..I want to look for Hansol. Is it ok if I just…” “Don´t worry you can leave her with me. I´ll look out for her.” Jihoon chimed in with an assuring smile. Even if you were not even expected to answer, you were completely speechless. An hour earlier you had racked your brain about how you would approach him, you remembered. “What a gentleman you are. Thank you.” she responded. “Text me if you need anything. I´ll look at my phone. And wait for us to walk you home!” she added, addressed to you. In the next second she had already disappeared into the crowd. “If you don´t mind I´ll get us something to drink?” “I´d love that.”

Minutes later you were sitting on a garden bench in the backyard. On the wall of the house there were paper lanterns attached, which made wonderful little colored spots of light dance around you. That Jackson Wang really knew how to throw a party, you thought again. You could still hear the music, but the walls functioned as a shield and made it appear as if the music was coming from far away. You and Jihoon weren´t the only ones who had gone outside to have a proper conversation, many couples had found the backyard to be the perfect place to make out, intertwined they sat there and you were sure that nothing would be able to keep them away from each other in that moment. But because you were drunk, and most importantly because Jihoon was sitting right next to you, you didn´t even give them more than a second of your attention.

Jihoon sat there, legs casually spread, with one arm on the backrest. You sat (very) close to each other, much closer than you probably would have, had you not been drunk. You had one leg on the bench so it was easier for you to face him. “You´re an art student, right?” “Yup. You´re a music student? Hansol said you are a very talented song writer.” Laughing out loud, he threw his head back. You were still nervous; your heart was still clearly beating a tad too fast and you had no clue what to do with your hands. But his laughter was contagious and his voice was soothing and so full of ease that all your nervousness was slowly guided out of your body. “Did he? I mean, he´s not wrong. I do indeed love writing songs, and I suppose I´m not too bad at it. Not sure I would call myself very talented though.” “Oh so humble.” You grinned. “Would you call yourself a very talented artist?” “No, I guess I wouldn´t. I´m not even sure I´m talented. Maybe I just love art. I think drawing the line between talent and just being hard-working is not always easy. That´s of course because talent and being hard-working are not mutually exclusive. You can be talented and hard working. That´s why I think it´s not always easy to detect talent.” Jihoon just looked at you, his face twisted into a slight smile. Why didn´t he say anything? “What?” you asked with a hint of shakiness in your voice. “It´s just…I think this was one of the smartest things I´ve ever heard a drunk person say.” Your eyes became big and suddenly your nervousness was back again. “I´m not that drunk!” “It was still smart.” You did not know what to say to that. You just looked at him and for a few seconds, neither you nor he said anything. But it wasn´t an awkward silence that begged to be broken, so the two of you just sat there, staring at each other.

“So tell me, what do you like to draw?” And you told him everything. About your obsession with peonies, about how you loved to draw old people because every single wrinkle, every scar seemed to tell so many stories. You told him about how you got off the bus three stops too early last summer just to paint a field of poppies, you told him how you once won an art contest in elementary school with a drawing of a hedgehog, that you didn´t even like. And you told him about how your mom had cried when you got accepted to art school because she was just so proud of you. While you were talking he listened attentively. And if you weren´t so immersed in your narration, if you were a little less drunk, you would´ve probably noticed the way he looked at you. Not once did he take his eyes off your face. When you were finished he told you about music. He told you how writing songs soothed him like nothing else. He told you how satisfying it was for him to finally finish a song. He told you how much he loved to sing and about that one night a few years ago the neighbors called the cops on him because he was singing too loudly in the middle of the night. You listened to every single word he said and if he wasn´t so immersed in his narration, if he was a little less drunk, he would´ve probably noticed the way you looked at him. Not once did you take your eyes off his face.

The buzzing of your phone ripped you out of your thoughts.

Jo: Hey, we´re about to go home. Are you ok? I don´t want you to walk home alone…

Fuck. You had totally forgotten the time. It was already 2 am. Jihoon saw you looking at your phone. “Is everything ok?” “Yeah, it´s just…I should probably go. My friend is leaving and she wants to walk me home.” “And what if I walked you home?" “You would do that?” “I just kept you from having fun with your friend the entire evening. I think I even owe you to walk you home.” He chuckled. You felt your cheeks flush. “I did have fun with you though.” “I´m very glad to hear that.” “And you´d really walk me home?” “Sweetie, it would be my pleasure.” he smirked. Sweetie. You definitely were not prepared for the pet name. All of a sudden your heart was beating so fast, you thought it would jump out of your chest. Your cheeks, rosy before, suddenly felt incredibly hot. “Thank you.” You answered, relieved after you noticed your voice didn´t leave you hanging.

You: I´m ok! Jihoon is going to walk me home. You don´t have to wait for me!

Jo: Use condoms!

You snorted and suppressed a laugh. Jihoon looked at you, his eyebrows slightly raised. “Sorry, my friend just texted something funny.” “What did she say?” Your heart seemed to have stopped beating for a moment. You didn´t think he´d ask that. “I, uh…nothing…she just…” you stammered. He laughed while never taking his eyes off you. “It´s ok. You don´t have to tell me.” “It´s just…” you tried to explain but instead you buried your face in your hands. This was so embarrassing! You didn´t know what reaction you expected from Jihoon, probably there wouldn´t have been anything to improve your situation anyway, but his low chuckle definitely made it worse. “I make you nervous, huh?” Your heart was still beating so fast and your cheeks had to be deep red by now and as much as you tried; you didn´t manage to look him in the eye again. So you just nodded. “Come on. Let´s walk for a bit.”

He stood up and stretched out his hand to pull you on your feet, which would not have been necessary, but you enjoyed the touching of your hands. It was the first time you touched each other on purpose. And even though it was only your hands that touched, you couldn´t help but feel more and more attracted to him. He didn´t let go of your hand, pressed it even more firmly and then gently pulled you past the left over party guests. Out of the front door, you just kept walking, your hand still in his. “Where do you live?” He sounded calm, relaxed and you knew you would be happy to hear nothing else than his voice for the rest of your days. “Basically on the other side of the campus. It´s a ten minutes ‘walk.” “Alright.”

And then the two of you walked, holding hands, side by side, so close other people would´ve thought you were a couple. Neither of you said anything for a few minutes. As before, the silence was not unpleasant at all, you simply enjoyed each other´s presence. Also, your heart finally had the opportunity to return to a normal pace, and the evening air cooled your cheeks. “I would love to see you again.” He underpinned his statement with a slight squeezing of your hand. You looked at him; he was focused on the walk, so you granted yourself a second to stare at him. He really was just so beautiful. The hair that gently fell in his face, his cheekbones, his neck. “I want to see you again too.” “You have to show me some of your drawings. Especially that one hedgehog drawing you were speaking of.” “Jihoon! I was 8 when I drew that and I didn´t even like it!” you made your voice sound playfully outraged. He couldn´t help but smile, his whole face lit up after hearing you say his name. He could definitely get used to that. “I bet it´s still good.” “No it´s not. But I can show you some other drawings.” “Guess I´ll have to settle for that.” He grinned. “Yes! And I want to hear some of your songs and you have to sing for me!” you said self-confidently. Your nervousness had completely disappeared from your body and had given way to a pleasant tension. “Deal.”

“This is me” you said as you came to a stop outside your building. He let go of your hand, the warmth leaving your palm empty, you wanted nothing more than to grab his hand again. A second later he had pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it out to you. “Here, type in your number.” You complied and gave it back to him. “Text me when you get home?” you asked shyly. “I promise.” And then came the moment, the moment in romance movies every viewer awaited eagerly, the moment you two should´ve kissed, or at least hugged. But you didn´t. Both of you were so absorbed in each other that neither one of you dared, nor even thought of making the first step. “Goodnight, Jihoon.” “Goodnight, Y/n.” And with that he left. You looked after him for a moment. Hell, even the way he walked was sexy.

Back in your apartment, you pushed your shoes off your feet just to fall into bed right after. You doubted that your remaining strength would be enough to change into your pajamas. Your body was so tired, but your mind was awake. Endorphins seemed to have decided to simply continue the party in your stomach. You were just lying there, arms outstretched, staring at the ceiling with a grin.

After, what had to be about 15 minutes, you heard your phone buzz. Never before had you reached for your phone so quickly.

Unknown: I just got home. Goodnight, Sweetie. Don´t forget to drink lots of water!

You read the message and you didn´t know it was possible, but your grin got even wider. Your phone pressed to your chest, your clothes still on, you started drifting off to sleep. You would just text him back, and save his contact in the morning, you thought. And with that, your body fell into a pleasant sleep.

Hi! It´s me, Jo. I´d like to thank you for reading my stuff! I really hope you enjoyed it. If you have any feedback, comments, requests, questions please let me know!

#jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen ff #seventeen fluff #jihoon fluff #woozi fluff #kpop fanfiction #seventeen #rhubarbbabywrites

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omgbigfluffwriting · 4 years ago

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When You’re Gone Chapter 1

[Gabriella's POV]

I never expected to have my childhood best friend be my Criminology Professor. It seems kind of weird but whatever. I don't exactly remember my childhood and early teen memories thanks to the car accident that nearly took my life in the year before my last at high school. I decided to go to college to earn my bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice at 30 and I was on my last year at age 34. That day I was determined to be early. When I was a child, according to my best friend Spencer Reid, he usually described me as a chicken with its head cut off due to my spacing out. He never meant it to be cruel, just a matter of fact. Criminology was my second class of the day, after English. Professor Clarke was supposed to be teaching it and nobody took it seriously... at least those who weren't studying Criminal Law like I was. However, when I walked into the classroom...I didn't see the middle-aged woman I knew to be Professor Clarke. Standing at the whiteboard was a tall, skinny man, with shoulder length messy brown hair wearing black slacks with a purple vest, lilac dress shirt and white tie. His converse shoes made him look younger than he was. Somehow, he seemed familiar. There were a few girls already present in the room. I took my seat next to a girl in blue named Ruby Darley. We introduced ourselves and Ruby whispered, "What do you want to bet that most of these girls are not studying Criminal Law?" "Hm, let me get back to you on that." I whispered back. "Wait, why do you ask?" I asked. "Wait until the professor turns around." Ruby said with a grin. I raised my eyebrow at her. By this time the classroom was full. The professor turned around and looked at all of us. He had large hazel eyes which looked brown, honey brown to be exact and looked like he should be a model, rather than a college professor. "Good morning, I am Dr. Spencer Reid and welcome to Criminology. Professor Clarke needed to step away, so I am covering for her this semester." He started handing out our copies of the class syllabus as he continued talking. His name tickled my memory but I'd had an accident in my junior year of high school that I almost died from so my childhood memories and early teen years were pretty fuzzy. When he got to me, he handed me the syllabus but his eyes narrowed. I raised my eyebrow at him, hoping I wasn't being rude. Apparently, I didn't have what he was looking for, because he continued to hand out syllabuses. "What was that about?" Ruby whispered to me. I shrugged as Doctor Reid went back to the front of the class. He took attendance and his voice was a little strange when he called out my name. "Present," I say as I doodle on my writing notebook. Dr. Reid thoughtfully nodded and wrote something down on his piece of paper. --- [Spencer's POV] After class, I wanted to call Gabby up and see why she didn't recognize me. But she slipped out before I had the chance. So I found myself contacting Garcia to do a search for the girl I loved. "You've reached the all-knowing BAU Oracle." Garcia said. "Hi Garcia do you have a moment?" I asked. I heard Garcia snort. "For you, 187, I have all the time in the world." Garcia joked. "What do you need Doc?" I take a deep breath. I hope that wherever she is, she's happy. "I need you to look up someone for me. Her name is Gabriella Chambers, born May 19th 1984." I heard Garcia's fingers type rapidly. "It says here that she's living in Washington D.C. right now and attending the university that you're teaching at, Boy Wonder." Garcia reported. "Her grades are impeccable. I'm not going to lie, I'm impressed,187." Garcia's voice sounded impressed with Gabby's grades. I was impressed myself since she had always struggled with Math during childhood. I nodded. Then, realizing she can’t see me: "Could you dig into her medical records? She should have recognized me today." I asked. Garcia made a noise of assent and typed even more. I was about to hang up when she said, "Oh my God. She was involved in a car accident her junior year of high school and nearly died. As a result, she has extreme retrograde amnesia and the doctors don't expect her childhood and early teen memories to return." I felt a rock fall to the pit of my stomach. So all the memories I shared with her were just gone, like they never happened? What about that pact we made when she was 7 and I was 10, if we were both over 30 and unwed that we'd marry each other? Did she truly not remember our first kiss when I was 16? "You're in love with her." Garcia cut into my reverie. "I'm sorry 187. I didn't think... well if you can't get her memories to return, there's always a blank slate you can start with." Tears fell down my face. I did not want to start afresh with her. Yet I may have to. I start putting away my things in order to get ready to leave when the door opened and Gabby walked in. She approached me cautiously, testing the waters. "I'm sorry, Dr. Reid, but you seem awfully familiar to me and I can't place meeting you anywhere." I could work with 'awfully familiar'! "Actually . . . we were childhood friends." I said and pulled the picture of us when she was 7 out of my messenger bag for proof. I was pushing her on a swing in the picture. "I don't remember." She said sadly and handed the picture of us back to me. "I was in an accident and have problems with my long term memories." I bit my lip. "Would you like to come back to my apartment with me? I have the letters you wrote me before we lost contact." I offered but she shook her head. "No, it's okay. I just wanted to know why you were so familiar." She said. "I'll see you tomorrow." And then she was gone. ---- [Gabby's POV] I rushed home. There was no way in hell that I'd known Dr. Reid during the period of time that I was missing... I dug out what I called my photography box. On the top was the very same picture that Dr. Reid had shown me. It must have been a favorite of mine. I was astonished to find a handful of pictures that contained the two of us and a bunch of letters tied with a length of ribbon. My mother had saved every letter he'd written me. The letters indicated that we were close, probably close enough to eventually fall in love with the other. I could see me doing that. Dr. Reid was attractive, definitely my type. I was so engrossed in the letters that if the knock on my door hadn't been as loud as it was, I would have missed it. "Coming." I set my almost finished bundle of Dr. Reid's letters on top of my bed and answered the door. Dr. Reid was standing on my doorstep. "I'm just a few doors down from you but . . . here." Dr. Reid handed me a second bundle that's tied with a baby blue ribbon. Mine was tied with a hot pink ribbon. "Okay I'll get these back..." I started. "Keep them. I have an eidetic memory, so I can recall them whenever I want. See you tomorrow." He started to walk away but I caught his arm in time. He turned to look at me. "I have the letters you wrote to me." I say. "You seem so... painfully different from when you wrote those letters. Tell me what happened?" He starts to consider it but then freezes. "It'll be best for you to remain my student. I'll see you tomorrow, Ms. Chambers." He said and yanked his arm from my grasp. I gasped at the unspoken consequence, that if I can't do that, then I should drop his class. "Why are you being so cold?" I call after him. He doesn't answer. --- [Spencer's POV] I had to blink back tears as I head back to my own apartment. It's best for her if I remain Dr. Spencer Reid in her eyes. She'll be safer when I return to the BAU after my reinstatement requirements are met. The moment I get into my apartment, I truly crumble to the floor and let go. It feels like I've lost the two women I have ever loved to tragic fates - Maeve because she was murdered and Gabby because of a car accident. Technically, I didn't lose Gabby, she was still alive but the amnesia was worse than death in my opinion. I wondered what had made her lose such a big amount of her long-term memories. I had been such an integral part of her childhood... It would be better to keep my distance and let her marry someone else who can keep her safe from the monsters I face on a daily basis. --- [Spencer's POV] The next morning I walked into the Criminology class to see that Gabby was the first student in the classroom, going over an assignment I had handed out yesterday for homework. She looked up and then looked back down at the paper. "Need help?" I asked her. She shook her head. I wandered over to her desk. The classroom was empty and I owed her an explanation about my behavior last night. "Look," I murmured. "Last night was a..." "Disaster seems like a good word for it," Gabby said, looking up sternly and giving me a pissed look. I sighed. "The thing is, I'm trying to protect you." She looked up at me with impatience. "Have you ever heard of the Behavioral Analysis Unit?" I asked, looking at her. "Who hasn't?" Gabby asked. "They're the nation's elite at criminal profiling." I nod. "I'm part of that unit. I've put countless criminals away who would love to hurt you to get to me. It's safer for you if we keep the relationship to that of teacher and student." I admitted, not for the first time. "Safer..." Gabby snorted. "Dr. Reid, I read all of your letters that you sent me before my accident last night. There's no way in hell that I'll believe you're capable of staying at a teacher/student relationship with me." The door opened and I returned to the front, clearly pissed off. Ruby Darley walked in as I faced the whiteboard to hide my expression, furiously writing. "Wow, Dr. Reid looks pissed. Did one of those girls proposition him?" I wanted to turn around and tell Ms. Darley I could hear her but considering the argument Gabby and I just had, it wasn't a good idea. "No, Dr. Reid's mad at me." I hear Gabby say as she opened her notebook. "You didn't!" Ms. Darley said in shock. "Quite frankly, I didn't have you pegged as one of the girls who would actually go and f**k a professor for the hell of it." "I didn't proposition him," Gabby says through her teeth. "It was over something else." I now turned around and said, "Ms. Darley, what occurred between Ms. Chambers and I is quite naturally between us. If she chooses to tell you, she may but please refrain from making comments like that." I resume my writing but still listened in. The girls changed the subject. "I can't believe that assignment Professor Callaghan gave us today for English," Ruby complained. "Well, we are reading Anne of Avonlea." I hear Gabby say with a snort. "I went through the papers my mom saved from my elementary school days." I wonder if she's saying this for my benefit... "There was this boy I had a crush on. I wrote him a letter based on the Anne books." "Did you ever give it to him?" Ruby asked. "No, I was too shy to give him the letter in that instance," Gabby says. I'd never thought of her being shy. "So what's going on between you and Dr. Reid?" I kind of wanted to know myself, so I listened. "Childhood friends and I don't remember him," Gabby answered a bit tersely. "He was acting like a jackass last night." I raised an eyebrow at her comment. "So would you?" Ruby asked. I wondered what Ruby was asking Gabby. Some sort of nonverbal exchange must've happened because I heard, "Hell no!" I turned around and raised an eyebrow at the two women. Ruby wrote something down and passed it to Gabby. "C'mon, he's clearly listening and I don't feel like explaining myself." She hissed. "It's a yes or no question, Gabby." Ruby said, giving her a look. "Drop *it* !" Gabby hissed again as I was just about to come over to their table to see what was written on the paper sitting between them like a high school teacher. "You're not getting out of answering." Ruby says as she puts the note away and the classroom fills.

#Criminal Minds Fanfic #dr. spencer reid smut #dr. spencer reid x fem!oc

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dearlybelovedluke · 5 years ago

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Trapped in Paradise Chapter 1: Memories

Summary: Genevieve Carr’s best friend is getting married, and to be the maid of honour is something which she has dreamed and waited for her whole life. But when her ex-boyfriend happens to be the best man at the wedding, her life takes a flip. But is it for the better or worse?

Word Count: 5741

Warnings: drinking, angst, breakups

A/N: Hi, this is my first attempt at writing a story for Henry so please be kind! This is also a setup chapter-ish? Yeah, there will be more coming when all my school assignments are over!

Enjoy!

@romyr4 @littlefreya @magdelen69

Chapter 1: Fond Memories

Flashback

She was angry and she hoped that he would be able to tell from the moment he walked into the house. She was also drinking the alcohol which was supposed to be saved for celebration but at this point, she felt there was nothing to celebrate anymore. He did it all on his own, and she was left behind. So the bottle of champagne they saved for a moment together was her first choice. When she got closer to the halfway mark was when she stopped herself. "Maybe he'll want it" she sarcastically giggled to herself, before placing it on the table. The clock read 7:30 pm and she was already drunk, but at this point, she didn't care, because apparently neither did he. “Just a little bit more wine” she said, moving to the cellar in the kitchen.

+++

The house is quiet when he opens the door. Too quiet for his liking. Normally at this time, if she is awake, the TV or radio is keeping her company. But tonight is different, and he knows it. A champagne bottle is resting on the side table by the door, the second sign of something being wrong. Picking it up, it was at least half empty. Shit, he thought. The alcohol in his system was starting to fade, but he could still feel it, and paired with the tension in the house, proved that the night was not going to go in a good direction. A fight was coming. If anything he hoped, it would blow over tonight, and they could have one last night before he was to leave for his next shooting schedule. He follows the light to the living room where she is sitting, with Kal’s head in her lap, and a glass of wine in her hand, staring at the muted TV. She’s dressed in his favourite black dress, her makeup smudged, and her curled hair up in a messy bun. Henry lets out a sigh before stepping into the room.

“Baby what are you doing up still?” he asks softly, crossing into the room. Her head finally snaps, as she takes him in. His button-up shirt, slightly unbuttoned showing a sneak peek of the chest hair underneath, his jeans hugging him tightly. His curls loosening from the gels hold on them. It was when she looks at his face, he can see the hurt rose up in her eyes. His cheeks were slightly red and sweating lightly. His eyes held a slight glaze.

"How were drinks with the big shots", she asked with a sarcastic raise in her eyebrow.

"I could ask you the same, considering there's half the champagne gone, and that's probably not your first glass," he says, sitting down on the arm of the couch. "Hmm, you don't get to judge me" she slurred, placing her glass on the side table. His eyes shot up, looking into hers, "what are you talking about?"

"I said, you don't get to judge me for celebrating my boyfriend's new role, even if he doesn't want to celebrate with me," she spits, before trying to stand up, her body swaying slightly. “We were supposed to celebrate me and you." she continues calmly, but the hurt voice betrays her halfway through.

“Yeah, but I called you,” he counters, standing up. “You told me it was alright.” She scoffs, before reaching for her wine glass again. Pressing it to her lips, she pauses, “I asked for you to be home at a good time, so we could still celebrate.” "I'm home now, aren't I? I know I said we'd celebrate tonight, but it's 10 now," he says, trying to keep his voice calm. She takes a deep breath again, her body swaying ever so slightly, “you called me at 3 and said we’d have time after.”

He sighs, before sitting back down on the end of the couch. “Look I know, but let’s just go to bed. We can celebrate tomorrow,” he offers, reaching down to pet Kal, who is looking between the couple. “Mhm yeah like you are going to make time before you leave," she scoffs before turning and storming into the kitchen. He sighs again, watching Kal get up and follow her into the kitchen. He sighs before running his hands over his face. “Baby you know it’s my job,” he calls. "You know I have to-" She appears in the doorway in seconds. “To sit and wine and dine everyone except your girlfriend? That’s your job?”

“I have to be out with the crew for them to know that I was a good decision to cast. This isn’t the first time.” “Oh I know it's not the first time,” she snides, walking back into the kitchen. It’s his turn to follow her. He gets up slowly and makes his way to the kitchen, where she is leaning against the counter. She looks up at him, before draining the glass, and reaching to pour another one. "Enough, baby please. Let's just go to bed," he says, gesturing to the dark stairway that leads to their bedroom, beside him. She ignores him and continues to pour the glass, taking a sip when she is finished.

“You choose them every time over me.” “That’s not true.” “Oh, so it doesn’t happen every time I want to be with you and celebrate? You don’t blow me off for someone more important than me,"

“I don’t think you want to be there. It’s boring, now let's just go to bed," he pleads. She scoffs again, before taking another sip of her wine and turning to look out the back window. He lets out a frustrated sigh. Looking up at her, he takes a step closer to the counter. “Baby," he starts. "that's not it, look you know I’d love for you to be there but you’d be bored out of your mind. ”

“I think I would rather be ‘bored’ out celebrating roles with you than sitting at home waiting for you all night, only to have no time with you,” she snaps turning around to face him. Her eyes are glowing with hurt and tears. He slowly moves to stand in front of her. “Baby, you know my job isn’t the best at times like these, but I promise we’ll celebrate,” he brushes the fallen tear off her face, and drops his head down further, resting it on her forehead to look her in the eyes.

“C’mon, let’s just go to bed. Tomorrow I’ll be home all morning, and we can figure out how we wanna celebrate.” She pushes his hand off her face, before taking a step back and shaking her head. “You aren’t even home anymore," she groans, closing her eyes. “That’s not true, you know-”

“There’s a lot of things I know, Henry" she interrupts, opening and meeting his eyes. "Like how I know your job is the most important thing in the world. Like how I need you here with me, but you just aren't!” “I am here,” he groans. “I’m here now aren’t I? I’ve promised you that I would be home at a good time, it's only 10 pm. Let’s go to bed and tomorrow we’ll celebrate.”

“This isn’t about celebrating anymore! Don’t you understand,” she snaps. “I've had all night to think about this. This is about you not being here or trying.” He steps closer, pressing his forehead back on hers. “Baby, I am here for you," he whispers. She shakes her head, "you know what I mean." He sighs before pulling away, but keeping his body close. “Look I’m sorry about tonight,” he starts cupping her face and pulling it up to look into her eyes, “but I’ve been trying lately. I mean I really tried with Paris.” Her widen at the mention of Paris. “Seriously, you’re bringing up Paris right now?” “Look, I don’t want to fight right now” “No you brought up Paris, clearly you want this conversation to happen” “Fine” he sighed, looking into her eyes, “Genevieve-”

“You booking me a ticket to Paris without consulting me isn’t trying,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm. She took a large step back. "I can't believe you right now," her voice was rising as she was getting more visibly upset.

"So what now I'm the bad guy?" He raised his voice to match hers. "This is not all on me. I don't get to see you either due to your job. Sue me for thinking Paris was a good idea." His voice shook with emotions, and the look on his face told her that the fight was about to become something bigger. "Tell me what you want then! Because saying I'm not here, I know that. Don’t you think I know I don’t get to be home all the time. So what? I have to give up my job to be with you? To see you?”

“I’m not asking for you to give up your job. I'm asking to see you for more than the hours we are asleep” she said, softening her voice, the emotion cracking through. He tilts his head back before running his hands through his hair once more. “What about you?” he says suddenly, looking back at her. “Me?” she questions,

“Henry-”.

“No” he shakes his head, “I’ve had a long day already today, so if we’re gonna talk about this. We’re gonna talk about how I have to compete with your schedule for everything.” Her mouth drops slightly, “don’t act surprised. The office I can deal with. You have to work, I get that. But the fact Miss Perfect Social Life can't take time off from her brunches and wine nights to spend a week with her boyfriend." “Again with Paris, she shouts. “You’re making this about Paris again.” “This isn’t about Paris, this is about you putting the effort in too,” he shouts back.

She take a deep breath. “you booked me a ticket on the busiest week of my career,” she stated trying to keep her voice from shouting again. “Oh please” he grunts, leaning on the fridge. “It’s wedding dresses, how busy can it be” he snaps. Her jaw drops in surprise. She stuttered for a moment, before turning around. She couldn't look at him right now, she thought. "That's what I thought" he muttered, once her back was to him.

“YOU BOOKED A TICKET THE WEEK OF THE LONDON WEDDING SHOW. YOU THINK A WEDDING DRESS DESIGNER IS GOING TO BE FREE. THAT’S MY WHOLE CAREER RIGHT THERE. THAT’S WHERE I GET MY CLIENTS. SO PLEASE TELL ME HOW IT’S NOT IMPORTANT TO MY CAREER. AM I NOT ALLOWED TO HAVE A CAREER ANYMORE” she screamed back, whipping around to face him again. "CLEARLY IT'S ALL HAIL HENRY AND HIS CAREER"

"WHEN DID I SAY YOU CAN'T HAVE A CAREER" he yelled back, before lowering his voice. "I'm not saying it isn't important but what about me? I'm not important anymore? Fine, the Paris ticket was a bad idea. I get that. But you knew what my weeks were gonna look like. You knew how badly I wanted you there. You could have made time." “You aren’t listening,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. She tilted her head back to stop the tears from flowing. “Yeah I could have come to Paris, I know! I realized that’s on me,” looking at him, she stopped for a moment. His eyes were building with emotion as he stood across from her. “But this is not about me trying, I know there are things I could do better, and I will do them,” she took a deep breath before continuing. “This is about you, dropping our plans which have been in place and deciding that your team and everyone else in the world are more important than me. I’ve been trying. I’ve been supporting you through all of this. The late hours, missing family and friends for events, explaining why you aren’t there. Explaining why I can’t go to some either because I have to be on your arm just to confirm our relationship to the public. I love you, but my life is not yours. I need you to respect that I need your time too or that I have other shit going on that can’t be moved”. By the end, tears were flowing down her face.

He leaned his head back against the fridge once more, looking up at the ceiling, closing his eyes and swallowing before meeting her eyes. “So what then? You want to end this,” she shook her head, before softly speaking, “Henry, I-” "No, clearly, I'm such an asshole” he interrupted angrily, “Maybe it’s better for me to go back to where they want to see me and can appreciate the time I can give them.” “The time you give?” Her voice dropped to a deadly quiet. “Are you kidding me?” She hissed, slamming her glass on the counter, the force causing it to smash. “The time you give? I’ve been your girlfriend for 3 years, and in the past couple months, I barely get an hour of your day anymore,” her voice growing louder. “I know your job and what it mean-” “Clearly you don’t” he snaps, “you knew when we first started going out that I wasn’t always going to have the time, I made sure you knew that.”

“You promised me I’d have you home.”

“Well I am” he hissed. “I’m home and being yelled at about how I’m not. And how I’m not putting effort in,” he shakes his head once more before pushing himself off the fridge, “you know, clearly this isn’t what you want any more,” she shakes her head, wiping the tears from her face, “I never-”, he bites his lip, before shaking his own head before cutting her off. “it’s fine, I’ll go,” he says, walking out of the kitchen. “Henry, wait” she cries, following him into the hallway. He freezes by the now opened door, before turning around. "I love you Gen, but I now see what you want. And it's not me. You want someone to bow down to your career and I'm sorry I can't be that man for you". He slips his shoes on, “Kal stay” he commands, seeing the big bear peeking out into the hallway, wanting to follow his owner. “Henry,” she pleads, he sighs again before meeting her eyes.

His heart hurts as he watches tears flow from her eyes. “I can’t do this, not right now”, he shakes his head, “ We haven’t been happy in weeks and you know that so. I just, I need to go” he says. “I’ll come back when you are at the office and take my stuff. ” He turns and pauses at the door. "Enjoy the rest of the bottle without me," he mutters. The words feel like a cold slap, which sobers her body up. "Henry," she sobs, before the door slams, leaving only the sounds of her sobs, and heartbreaking.

PRESENT DAY

The snapping of fingers in front of her face forces her back into reality. “Huh, oh yeah sorry no that sounds good,” she stutters out. “We moved on from the first course,” Mel hisses before turning back into the camera view. Genevieve straightens up, looking around the table where Mel and Chris sits on a video call with the resort’s wedding planner. “As I was saying, Mel dear are you sure you don’t want to make more courses available” “No, I think it’s good” “Well if that is everything I will see you both very soon!” “Thank you so much Linda'' Chris says before ending the call.

“What a maid of honour you are'' he teases, standing up, “leave her alone” Mel says as she closes the laptop before taking it out of the room “yeah leave me alone” she says sticking her tongue out, as soon as Mel was out. “What about your best man, huh?” Genevieve asks, before draining her glass of water. “Where's he in this planning?” “I’m about to ask him now”, he says shrugging on his jacket. “You’re only asking now?” her eyebrows raised, “I’ve been a maid of honour for months.” He shrugs before, making his way to the door, sliding his shoes on. “He just got home last night, I'm making it official.”

“Oh well, then I’m sure it will be more romantic than when you asked Mel” she teased. “What will be more romantic?” Mel asked, rolling her eyes, coming back into the room. “Proposing to his best man.” “ah yes,” she laughs before turning to her fiance. “Behave” she playfully scolds, making him chuckle. “Baby, I love you, but you know he’s my guy” Mel rolls her eyes, and pulls him in for a quick kiss. “Go see your real lover” he grins as he turns, “I’ll call you crying when he says yes,” he says dramatically before leaving. Genevieve rolls her eyes, before getting up, “I don’t know where you found him” she laughs, before turning around to find Mel’s eyes on her. She sighs, “What?” “You do know who he is choosing right? I mean I know a lot of the guys he would have a secret romance with behind my back but you do know right,” she asks as she walks over to the couch. Genevieve stops and turns to her best friend.

“Mel” she starts, “I knew from the moment Chris proposed to you, that Henry would be the best man. They’ve been inseparable since they first met. But we'll be on different sides of the ceremony. And you are working out of the hotel room so I’m not near him”, she shrugs. “trying too-” she pipes in, Genevieve, shrugs again before continuing, “Look Mel, don’t worry about me. I’ve been around Henry since we broke up and I’ll be okay now. Besides, at Lee’s birthday a few months ago we decided to be civil and try and be friends. I can’t promise friends for the wedding but I can promise civil” she promises her best friend. “ Now moving on, what else do you need to plan?”

Mel sighs, before moving to embrace her best friend, “I know, I’m just worried about you, you took it really hard.” Gen nodded, slowly, before admitting to her best friend shyly. “I was thinking about it during the call” “Gen-” “But I will be fine. Let’s move on”, she says, pulling out of the embrace. 0Mel doesn’t fight her, instead she just lets out a playful grin, “Well since someone wasn’t listening and fell asleep or something during our planning session, you’d be happy to know that there’s only a little left. But you have to help me. It’s your punishment for falling asleep” she teases. “What is it?” Gen asks, a knowing smile on her face. “The dress” she squeals, unable to keep her excitement. “Of course”, she winks her best friend, picking her tablet off the table. “Let’s get started, she says excitedly, plopping down on the couch.

+++ Months later

“I can’t believe I am getting married in 6 days” Mel squeals excitedly, lifting her wine glass up. “I couldn’t have done it without you helping me in every step” Genevieve barks out a laugh adjusting her sunglasses on her head, before taking a sip of her wine. “I did bare minimum,” she says, shaking her head. Mel rolls her eyes at her best friend. “You introduced me to Chris, that counts for something.” “He came wandering into my shop with Henry complaining he needed a girlfriend, the same week you decided to ‘get back out there’. I call that fate” Gen laughed, raising her glass up, clinking it against her best friend’s.

“Well, maybe fate will work in your favour this time around!” Mel said, before sipping her glass, looking hopefully at Genevieve, who just rolled her eyes. “Mel, stop.” “what G?, I'm just saying-”

“I know what you are saying and no, it is not happening. Henry and I are not getting back together. You changed my room so that mess is over with-”.

Something in Mel’s eyes makes her stop. “What” “mhm, what nothing,” Mel says quickly, chugging back the rest of her wine.“Mel!” “Gen,” she says weakly. “What are you not telling me,” she hisses.

“Okay, there may have been some issues with the rooms” Gen’s eyes widened, “You also promised me that you were changing the rooms, so I won't be near him." “I swear, Chris and I have been trying to work on it but every time something else comes up. We’re trying to do some room switching soon so there will be no issues so you won’t have to share with him.” “shouldn’t have too? Mel!” She hisses again.

“I know, I know I'm an absolutely awful friend but everything with the wedding and” Gen sighs and rubs her temples. “I told Chris that it needed to be changed around but he’s been so busy with work, and I’ve been running around with my mum’s shop”

"Mel" Gen sighs "But I will. In the morning, I will call the hotel" "you better" Gen mutters saltily, before draining her own glass. “I am not interacting with him any more than I have too” she declared, as the waiter made his way over, pouring them each another glass. “The bill when you can” Mel smiled, as he finished pouring. “On one bill” Gen piped up, Mel shot her a look. “On me, for the bride to be” she teased, raising her new full glass up. “You spoil me” Mel laughed, raising her glass to meet Gen’s.

“You know, a year ago if I told you that you and Henry will be near each other for a whole week, you would have decided not to show up to my wedding,” Mel said, as they pulled their jackets on, making their way through the restaurant. “Lee’s party changed things” Genevieve shrugged before pushing the door open, letting them onto the street. “He’s still my ex though, so I’m not thrilled” she stated, starting down the street towards the nearest station. “He’s barely an ex, you see him around all the time, and agreed to be friends.” “he’s still my ex,” she sighed, shooting a look at her best friend.

“We dated for 3 years” she pointed out, “and then he broke it off besides, I agreed to be friends with him because I thought he wouldn’t be around that often, considering he wasn’t during our actual relationship. Funny how that happens, we break up because of space and suddenly he's around all the time" she mutters bitterly, stopping at the light, turning to her best friend who just shrugged.

"You never talked it through after he left.”

“Maybe because he left...?”

“Maybe he's trying to get you back". Gene shoots her a look before turning away. “You both were drinking and didn’t talk about it after. Maybe he regrets it, ” Mel sighs before shaking her head, “Fine. I am switching your room tomorrow, relax. Now enough room and ex talk. We need to talk about my fitting!” she exclaims excitedly as the crosswalk changed. “It’s done and ready for your final fit. Come by tomorrow anytime. I’ll be in the office all day” Gen grinned, thinking about the dress she worked hard on for her best friend. “Only you would work until the last day possible,” Mel teased, causing Gen to chuckle and shrug. “Some people enjoy work.”

“Only losers.''

Gen rolls her eyes once more. “Just call me tomorrow before you come into the office”, Gen said, as they arrived at the station. “of course,” Mel said, pulling her best friend into a hug. “You know,” she said pointedly, “Chris is around the corner if you need a ride home.” “it’s not a far-” “Okay no, you are not walking. C’mon Chris will drive you” she scolded, before dragging her to where Chris was in the parking lot.

+++

The house is cool when she gets in but she doesn’t mind too much. She checks and adjusts the temperature as she walks past it before continuing to make her way to the bedroom. A small boof greets her as she steps in the bedroom. “You know you aren’t that scary'' she says to the large German Shepherd sitting on her bed. Luna lets out another boof, before rolling over on her back, sticking her tongue out at her owner.

Shaking her head she strips down and changes into an old t-shirt and some shorts. Passing the mirror on the way to the kitchen, she realizes whose shirt she has on. She stole it the first night he slept over and never thought to give it back. Sighing again, she continues to the kitchen, her thoughts on the recent memory flashbacks she’d been having lately on him. It must be because of the upcoming wedding and it’s been months since I’ve seen him, she thought.

They promised to be friends and every time she has seen him, he’d been fine, but those were times where she could get away from him quickly, finding some sort of distraction until either one of them left first. The wedding was going to be a whole week, potentially of them together with very little escape from each other. “At least we’ll be in separate areas of the hotel” she mumbled, taking a sip of the glass she poured.

She stands for another moment, before draining the glass and treading back to the bedroom. Unlocking her phone, she scrolls to the next page, where only one new game is sitting, the rest of the screen filled with her favourite photo, even though it had been just over a year since they called it, she didn’t have the heart to change it. She was sitting on his lap, on a dock up at a friend’s lake house. His arms all wrapped around her and his face pressed against her cheek while she smiled brightly at the camera.

Flashback

“And how’s the water” he asked with a smirk as she walked towards him, “not bad but it is much colder when you steal my towel” she says, approaching where he was sitting on the beach chairs only in his swim trunks and a pair of sunglasses “Mhm did I now? I guess it’s up to me to warm you up” he says with a shit-eating grin, opening his arms out to her.

“Everyone is waiting for you down there,” she whispers, crawling into his lap before reaching up and presses her lips against his lips. “I'm not going till they call me,” he says, breaking the kiss, but moving his lips down her cheek and onto her neck. “I’m going to stay here with you and-”

“OI LOVE BIRDS”

A voice yells from the doc below. “GET DOWN HERE. STOP FUCKING AND ENJOY THIS TIME WITH US. YOU CAN HAVE EACH OTHER LATER”

“Fuck”, he groaned against her neck. She chuckles, “you’re going to what now” she teases, before pressing her lips against his again. His fingers trace up and down her thighs. “Mhm, you later” he promises with a smirk. “We should go down before they come over here”, she says before pulling his lips in for another kiss.

“One more kiss” he whispers, pulling his lips against hers again. “bab-” “okay maybe two more”, he grins against her lips. Her arms snake against his neck, pulling him in closer, connecting their lips in a deeper kiss. It wasn’t until someone yelled again for them to join them that they moved.

Taking her hand, he pressed it to his lips, before adjusting his sunglasses and moving the both of them off the lounge chair. Pulling her into his body, they made their way down to the doc.

“I want pictures of everyone!” Mel declared as they reached the group. “You love birds first,” she said pointing at the pair, from her spot in the boat. “We just sat down,” Henry groaned, as he pulled Gen into his lap on the edge of the doc “so? stay there. You look so cute” she gushed, pulling her camera out of the front compartment. The pair rolled their eyes, but cuddled in even closer to each other, making the rest of guys on the doc playfully gag. They didn’t care. They were in love, and the whole world could see it.

They smiled brightly at the camera for a second, before he moved his lips onto her cheek. “I love you” he whispered, making her smile bashfully, catching the perfect photo.

Present Day

She sighs once more thinking about that memory. It had been a while since she thought about that trip even though she saw the picture every day. That was the last trip they took, weeks before they broke up. She plugged her phone in and set her alarm, before making herself comfortable in the sheets. One more day and then vacation mode and, although, she wasn’t excited to see her ex any time soon, she needed the time she thought before drifting off.

+++

The office was dead when she walked in the next day. She quietly made her way to her office and began to work on dress sketches. Her mind, however, floating to more memories of Henry.

Flashback

"uh Gen” she heard, followed by a knock on the door, “there's someone here for you" "who?” she wondered out loud, “a client? I don't have any more meetings today." "I don't think they want a dress, Jennie shrugs" "Uh okay, send them in." Jennie nods before scurrying out the door back to the client. Leaving Gen to straighten out her outfit. "Hi, what can I-" she starts, as she hears the door open, before looking up and seeing a familiar face standing in her doorway.

"Henry," she gasps, shooting out of her chair, into his arms. A shit-eating grin spreads across his face, as he catches her, swinging her around, before pulling her super close. "Hi" he whispers before pressing his lips against hers, pulling her into a deep kiss. Before the two can get carried away, another knock on the door pulls them away, "uh yeah" she calls, resting her forehead still on her boyfriend, smiling up at him. "Kim says go home for the day, you won't get any work done anyways" Jennie says, peering in, winking before closing the door. The smile on Henry's face stretches all the way to his ears. "what do you say we take this home mhm?" he whispers before pressing another kiss to your lips. "take me home" Genevieve whispers softly against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him for another kiss

Another knock at the door snaps her out of this. “Mel call-. You okay boss?” Jennie asks, realizing she snapped her boss out of something. “Oh yeah, was just thinking about something, what’s up,” she said, plastering a smile on her face. “Mel called, she said she couldn’t reach your phone, figured you were on the phone with a client so I said for her to come anytime.” Genevieve peered at her phone, which had blown up with messages from her best friend. “I don’t have anything else so uh send her in when she gets here. Thanks Jennie,” she smiles. The small secretary nods before, stepping out of the office.

The rest of her shift, her mind is elsewhere, the office can see that, and so can Mel as soon as she steps into her office. “You going to tell me what;s going on?” Mel asks, as she is stepping into her dress. “Not really” Gen answers tiredly, “at least not right now” she shrugs. “Well cheer up, tomorrow we’ll be on a plane headed for St. Lucia. A week of sun and free drinks and sex, well at least for me but maybe we can find a single bachelor for you on the resort,” she grins, making Gen chuckle.

+++

“I just can’t stop thinking about him”, she finally admits, as she hangs the dress back up.

“Look, I know it’s hard, but maybe you can talk to him at some point and clear everything up,” Mel suggests, slipping her shoes back on. “I’ll even sit right with you.”

“It’s your wedding week Mel, why would you sit and bore yourself with the what happened that night?”

“I’m your best friend, and you need closure and support,” Mel pulled her friend into a hug. “Look, I gotta go,” she says pulling away, “but seriously think about talking to him. Maybe this way all the memories will chill out”. Genevieve nods, “I’ll think about it,” she says, stepping back, and leaning on her desk.

“Good, I’ll text you later. Chris’s mum has some big issue that she’s going on about and I’m apparently needed,” Mel said, rolling her eyes. “Have a great rest of your day” she sang, blowing a kiss at Gen.

“Out.”

“Love you babes”

Her day is cut short after Mel’s final fit, by the rest of her staff telling her to go home and finish packing. She sighs gratefully before ordering herself an Uber back to her flat. The rest of the night, she can’t help but think about the fight, and by the time she crawls into bed, she feels more tired than normal. That much thinking about her past would do it, she thinks. Maybe she needs to talk to him. Maybe whatever closure Mel is on about is what she needs. Whatever she needs though, will happen later, she thinks, making herself comfortable in bed.

The chime of her text tone forces her to open her eyes and reach for her phone. 11:37 it reads, before she notices the message.

From: Mel

so Chris and I tried to switch the rooms around, but right now there are no other rooms. The lady said that when we get there, there should be rooms available to slot you into since people make changes. Promise this will be all sorted! See you bright and early babes!!!

“Fuck”, she mumbles before dropping onto her pillow. This whole trip is going to be hard, and if she keeps having these flashbacks of him, there is no way she is going to make it without crying.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x ofc #first time writing #trapped in paradise!HC

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bellamygateoldblog · 5 years ago

Note

So, I read a lot of your personal posts and I'm just really curious about you. You seem very stressed out and tired all the time. Are you a college student? Are you just in a financial situation that necessitates that you work all the time? I just feel bad because It seems that you do not absorb joy very much. Like, I have seen that you recently started watching that show The 100. You seem very pissed off about it and yet keep watching it? You confuse and intrigue me. Explain?

"it seems that you do not absorb joy very much" has been playing on my mind ever since i read this. It hit something close to my heart.

I know i’m not obligated to explain anything and i don’t tend to put my life online (i don’t have any social media, so that should give you an idea of how secretive i usually am) but i literally stayed awake for 30 hours straight before sleeping for 15 hours straight and of course i don’t feel very well after that lol. I feel like i need to talk through some things that i’ve been keeping to myself for a long time. Get it out of my head, stop carrying it around, maybe gain some control over it.

I never intend to make anyone feel bad though, but i don’t have anyone to talk to so i guess i sometimes make those posts as a substitute for someone listening. Or for me being pissed about the 100, i think that’s my mood translating into what i end up posting in general.

Anyways this is A Lot. I obviously don’t mind if you read it. Advice would be nice, if anyone has any.

I’m a 2nd year university student. Due to severe mental illness (often making me physically sick and exhausted) these last 2 years have been extremely difficult so that's left me in a very intense situation essentially just trying to ensure i pass the year. That means handing in all the assignments i deferred basically all at the same time, after not attending the year at all. Like no lectures, no workshops, no lessons, nothing past the first month of semester 1. It's really not an ideal situation and my condition isn't improving the way i thought it would (you know when you think ‘this is the worst it can possibly get’ and then it gets worse?), and i can't focus. I’m resourceful and naturally decently smart, so i’m able to still pass a year of uni without...going. I’ve become less capable over time but because of other life experience i don’t place value on academic excellence anymore and because of covid there is a benchmark anyway, where my grade can’t drop below a 2:2, so basically i’m good as long as i don’t recieve a fail grade on anything. But that being said it’s still really hard to get things done anyway despite this? especially with depression and concentration issues, because uni in general just makes me really unhappy and disrupts my entire life, and i’d rather do literally anything else.

I can’t function whenever thinking about school in general. If im stressed about something i can’t think about anything else and it ends up seeping into other things im doing.

I have a really clear idea of what i want for the next step in my life and university is the only route available to get to so that’s why i’m still going through all of this when i could technically just ‘stop’. I’ve explored other ideas already and it appears even more stressful and complicated to make a huge change now. Even though i know 3rd year will be harder (which is also a source of stress, anxiety over what’s to come when im already struggling...).

I've been talking to my uni the whole time and while they've been understanding and accommodating (psychology department...like...they Know lol), there's only so much they can do to help me. Everyone i’ve spoken to is genuienly amazed i am where i am, but imo my resilience is bourne out of pure spite not to let my life fall apart along with myself LMAO. I have one assignment deadline left which is tomorrow. It’s the hardest one yet, i haven’t started and i’m filled with dread, and i’m so burned out i have no idea how i’m going to get it done.

To give some context about the whole ‘i can’t help myself when i’m under stress’ thing: I’m a really feminine girl. I have health and beauty routines that i like to stick to, but i can’t stick to them right now so i don’t feel like myself. There is nothing more to my life than stress and depression. I’m pretty sure i experienced dissociation for a few days last week. It was like i didn’t exist.

Just so happens that when i thought i could finally have a break from the extreme stress there are exams coming up on the 11th, which my uni has for some reason decided to make harder!?!? And i need to tell you that because it’s been bugging me ever since i recieved the email. They've completely changed the exams from being 1 hour long multiple choice tests (multiple choice is so easy smh) to basically a group of short answer questions we have 24 hours (each!) to write and submit and it’s seeming like i’ve got another 5 assignments to do after already writing 7 in the past month. It’s open book while the January exams were closed but it still seems to me like the students who didn’t defer (who did the exams back in January) got an unfair advantage over those of us taking them now due to our own circumstances. So I’m confused and upset about that, and about the thought that i probably won’t even get a break before 3rd year begins.

My living situation doesn’t make it better. It’s a really negative and emotionally draining space for me to be in. Just adding to my being drawn to negativity, and my own sensitivity. And covid has made everything that much more complicated, with everything changing and being closed etc. I’m completely alone btw, there is no one i can lean on.

As for the 100, that’s really tricky. I actually stopped “watching” it last year and now mostly consume it through fandom tumblr. I'm just not in the right headspace to sit alone and watch such a heavy show (clearly LMAO). But I’m so comfortable in this circle of fandom & love my mutuals, so i stay. I am actually liking a lot about the final season, like they’re delivering everything i wanted them to lol, but it’s so flawed and easy to complain about when you have a predisposition to be a Negative Nancy all the time so here we are.

I think i don’t really talk so extensively about shows I really love because i feel like i don’t have anything substancial to say about them besides ‘i love it’? Like i just sit there and happily watch and the farthest i go is commenting gibberish love confessions in the tags of a gifset i reblog. So most of my posts end up being me being petty or something. I do want to focus more on shows i love but like i said...it’s so hard for me sometimes to be all-positive and pretend i’m not completely crushed?

I really just want to not be so stressed and exhausted all the time. I want to do something besides worry about and/or do work. I’d love to clean my space & take a shower & read a book without a nagging anxiety in the back of my head. But i have to wait it out, and then wait it out, and continue waiting it out because it feels like things are going to be this way forever or get even worse.

I’ve had a lot of good luck lately though, and i don’t know what your beliefs are but i think someone is watching over me.

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tomoewantsdolls · 5 years ago

Text

The game is on (and you won't see it coming)

Writen for Drarropoly 2.0

Prompt: A prank a day keeps Potter at bay. Until one morning, the tables have turned. Choose either 1) Hogwarts -OR- 2) Roommates -OR- 3) at the Ministry. Minimum: 348 words - Maximum: 834 words.

House level: Make this an ensemble story by using the book friends of both Harry and Draco in the story. Minimum: 1348 words - Maximum: 1834 words.

Word count: 1833 😅

Rated: T

Summary: Enough was enough. Actually, Harry was surprised he had waited so long to react.

Tags: Hogwarts eighth year, prank wars

Read on AO3

Enough was enough. Actually, Harry was surprised he had waited so long to react.

He has been saying to himself that he shouldn't answer to Malfoy's provocations for the sake of reconciliation. But the git has been a prat since they started their so called eighth year and Harry was fed up beyond reason.

The first day, Harry thought it wasn't intentional. During Potions, he approached the table where Parkinson and Malfoy were working, to ask for a pair of snake fangs. He should have suspected when Parkinson sniggered and Malfoy, very politely, said: "Help yourself."

Harry stared at him a little longer and convinced himself that he was beyond the phase of suspecting Malfoy's every intention. Then he reached for the jar and the moment he touched it, a stuffed snake pounced at his face, making him nearly jump out of his skin. He feared his heart would bounce out of his mouth.

Parkinson burst out laughing and Malfoy, the git, busied himself with their cauldron while failing to suppress a smirk. Harry glared daggers at them but bit his tongue and left, ignoring Ron's and Hermione's questions when he sat at their bench.

The second time was a silly thing, actually. They both were arguing about who had which responsibilities in a group assignment, while Zabini and Seamus stared at them over the breakfast table, looking from one to another like in a tennis match. Not that they know what tennis is, but not the point.

"That's not fair and you know it," Malfoy had said.

"We agreed before sorting the parts," Harry had answered, vehement, while serving himself some toast. He was fucking right.

"If you consider the amount of…"

"You agreed," Harry insisted, looking the prat in the eye. He grabbed a mug of coffee, an eighth year's privilege, and looked around for the sugar bowl. Malfoy pushed it forward and Harry reached for it to put two spoonfuls in his mug. "If you don't like it you can change it with anyone but me."

"Oh, how gracious of you," Malfoy deadpanned.

Harry flashed him a tight smile and took a mouthful of his coffee. Merlin he needed it if he had to put up with the insufferable git.

It was ghastly.

Harry couldn't help but splutter the disgusting liquid.

"What the hell!" he croaked between coughs. He eyed the coffee, then the sugar bowl. He glared at Malfoy. “Did you transfigured the sugar into salt?”

“Did I?” the idiot asked fooling no one.

“Is this how it’s going to be?”

Malfoy shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Harry inhaled deeply, trying to get his anger under control. He turned to talk to their other partners and ignored Malfoy for the rest of the morning. Well, he tried to, but the prat was nearly impossible to ignore.

The third day in a row that the sodding moron tried to prank him - and succeeded - Harry thought that, really, after their argument the day before he should have seen it coming. It was Saturday and they had agreed on meeting to work on the group project after breakfast, in the eighth year’s common room.

Harry had lingered at the table, not wanting to go back with the others. Well, not with Malfoy specifically, but still.

Even Ron finished his breakfast before he felt he was ready to leave.

When he rose from the table, a paper crane landed on his plate. He picked it up, knowing full well who it was from. He read the note inside with a bit of annoyance.

Idiot, change of plans. There’s too much noise in the common room. We are moving to the empty classroom on the second floor, third corridor to the left. Don’t be late.

~ Draco M.

Harry sighed. It was going to be a long morning.

He went to the classroom, mentally preparing himself to endure the company of the pointy git. What he didn't expect when he opened the door was a bunch of screaming teenagers, well… kids - really, was he so small at their ages? - that lost their shit when they saw him.

After a bit of fuss and manhandling, Harry found himself seated in the middle of the gathering of Harry Potter's Best and Merriest Fanclub, mortified and silently fuming and plotting how to kill a certain blond.

On Sunday he went to the quidditch pitch to fly before the sun rose. That wasn't an extraordinary event, he did it as often as he could; it was just the hour what was exceptional. He'd been awake for most of the night, at times trying to convince himself that he wouldn't rise to the bait and hit Malfoy with a bat bogey hex; at times he pondered just smothering the idiot; he even considered asking George for ideas for his long due revenge. So he reached a point when it was evident that sleep wouldn't come and he thought he better be doing something productive. Or at least enjoyable. Hence the flying.

It was as exhilarating as the first time. It was perfect.

Until the bane of his existence appeared in one of the Slytherin stands, that is. He ignored him for a good half an hour until his fingers were cold and his ass numb. And after that, he went directly to floor level; if Malfoy wanted to apologize, Harry wasn't going to make it easy for him.

"Potter!" Malfoy yelled behind him a moment later.

Harry turned and waited until he stood in front of him. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to… Merlin, you're sweaty."

"Ever so charming," Harry muttered. If Malfoy heard him he surely chose to ignore him. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"I came to tell you we have a group meeting in fifteen minutes. We need to discuss what are we going to tell McGonagall tomorrow. She wants to discuss our progress, apparently."

"What? That's…!"

"It would have been in about 50 minutes if some idiot wouldn't have ignored me."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"You didn't show up yesterday."

"And whose fault is that?"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. The prick.

"Why didn't Seamus tell me?" Harry asked, more to himself than anything, but the insufferable git answered all the same.

"Apparently you were in a bad mood and ignored everyone and no one could see you this morning."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "And you knew where to find me?"

The moron averted his eyes and turned his mouth down in distaste, an incongruous pink coloured his cheeks. "I drew the shortest straw. This seemed the most likely place for you to mope."

Harry snorted. "I'm not moping."

"Whatever. Ten minutes, Potter," the idiot said. And with that, he left.

Harry glared at his back for a good couple of minutes before rushing to the showers. Totally worth it.

He didn't bother with regulating the taps and the water was scalding; when he faced the mirror he was red all over. He tried to domesticate his hair for nearly 30 seconds, but even if he had the time he wouldn't achieved more than a "recently shagged" look (Ron's words, not his) so why bother, really. He had 4 minutes to get dressed and meet the others. He'll be on time just to piss the prat off.

He struggled with his underwear, struggled with his shirt and when he struggled with his trousers he paused and narrowed his eyes. Did he grabbed the wrong set of clothing? He shook his head. Who's else's clothes would be?

He put his trousers on and wondered if he had put on some weight as he slid the button on place with difficulty. They were his trousers, the telltale marks here and there said so, but… they were like… two sizes too small.

Then it dawned on him: Malfoy! The stupid git, the pompous coward… He tried with finitem incantatem , with engorgio , with every other spell he could think of… His clothes didn't return to their normal size.

"What the fucking fuck?" Harry muttered. He wondered what the moron had done to his clothes. "Stupid prick and his stupid, arrogant… face." Harry forced himself into the rest of his clothes, determined to be on time.

At least his boots were their normal size. Thank Merlin for small mercies.

He walked all the way back to the castle cursing under his breath and pausing every other step to accommodate himself in his too tight trousers.

He would retaliate. He would think of a way to pay the idiot back. Enough was enough.

He arrived at the common room just in time, a bit breathless, but in time. He spotted Seamus and Zabini already hunched over a couple of books. The supreme idiot was preparing himself a cup of coffee on the kitchenette - another privilege of the eighth year's students -, with his back to the door.

Harry reached their table in few strides.

"Harry, what happened to…?" He raised his finger to his mouth to silence Hermione, who was seated in an armchair by the fire, a book on her lap, just next to their table; but Malfoy heard her anyway, and turned to face Harry with a smirk, spoon clinking delicately in his cup.

"How generous of you…" Malfoy raised one eyebrow, probably noticing his hair's state of disarray, "...to grace us…" The other eyebrow joined the first as Malfoy's eyes traveled down from Harry's flushed cheeks to the strained buttons of his shirt, "...with your presence…" Harry shifted on the spot as he watched Malfoy's eyes roam all over his tight trousers, "...Potter." That one last word was a whisper.

Harry blinked, did Malfoy...? Did he just…?

Malfoy turned towards the kitchenette and left his mug on the counter, then he picked it up again and left the spoon on its place. He looked a bit lost before moving to seat beside Zabini, not looking to Harry again.

If Harry didn't know better he would think that Malfoy was flustered… By him. He turned his head, looking for confirmation, and made eye contact with Hermione, who had raised her eyes from her book again and looked from him to Malfoy with narrowed eyes.

It seemed unlikely, but… Harry smiled slowly. This could be interesting.

He made himself sure that the next two hours were torture for the pointy git. He sat next to him and leaned close until he could count the freckles on his nose.

He saw him squirm, shift in his seat and sweat. He even saw him blush.

He only stopped his teasing when Parkinson entered the common room and shouted: "Sweet Salazar, Potter! Where did you hide those muscles?"

It was then his turn to blush.

He thought that now he’d had his little revenge, Malfoy would leave him alone from now on, which strangely saddened him. But when he stared at the mirror the next morning, he gaped at his Gryffindor red hair.

"Sneaky bastard…" Harry couldn't help but smile.

#drarropoly 2.0 #drarry #drarry fic #harry potter #draco malfoy #my writing #hogwarts #eighth year

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bangtan-sonyeonddaeng · 6 years ago

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You erode all my sharp edges, you make me into love

Namjoon Mafia! Au

pt. 2

You were working another late shift at the hospital. You were working in the Emergency Department that night, helping to take care of patients but also being one of the trauma nurses for the evening. It had been slow all night, painfully so. You were struggling to stay awake when suddenly your trauma pager started going off signaling a gun shot wound victim was coming into the trauma bay. You immediately excused yourself from the patient’s room you were currently in and went back to the trauma room to await your patient’s arrival. Shortly you are met with the sight of a young man covered head to toe in blood. The paramedics are telling you what they know so far.

“24 year old male. John Doe. No one on the scene seemed to know who he was. Just said he was walking down the street when someone shot him in a drive by. Gun shot wounds to the shoulder and abdomen. Could be a result of some mafia spat.” You work quickly along side your coworkers and doctors to get him stable enough for surgery to remove the bullets and repair any internal damage done. Once your team is done he is being taken away to the Operating Room and it is out of your hands now. You just silently hope you’ve done enough to save his life. Part of you is curious, wondering if he was a part of the gang violence or just an innocent bystander but you quickly push the thought out of your mind. He’s not your patient anymore, and you need to focus on the other patients that need tending to in the ED.

That night when you are walking out to your car to drive home you get the intense feeling that you are being watched but you ignore it, thinking your lack of sleep is just getting the better of you. The second you get home you collapse onto the bed, completely exhausted. You don’t know why you keep wondering if the man is okay. You wonder if he has any family, any friends. Anyone at all that may be looking for him and wondering why he didn’t come home that night. Eventually your exhaustion takes over and you are lulled to sleep, only to be woken up in 8 hours to repeat everything again the next day.

When you arrive to work the next morning you approach the schedule to see which rooms you are going to be assigned for the day when your supervisor approaches you.

“Hey, y/n can I talk to you for a second?” You turn around and face your boss who has a frantic look on his face.

“Sure, what’s going on?”

“They are short staffed on the surgical intensive care unit today, and I was wondering since you already are familiar with the John Doe that came in last night if you wouldn’t mind helping them out and being his nurse for the day? They extubated him early this morning and now we are just waiting for him to wake up.” Your supervisor is usually so calm and collected, and it makes you question why he seems so nervous today. You push the thought out of your mind, thinking maybe he just had one too many cups of coffee today.

“Of course sir. Anything I can do to help the team.” You head up to the second floor and approach his room. You pull up a chair and sit next to his bed. He’s on a strict 1:1 until he wakes up due to the severity of his injuries and having just got out of surgery early this morning. You watch his vital signs, make sure he is comfortable and just wait for him to wake up. About 2 hours into your shift and you hear a pained groan come from the bed, you see the man’s face twist in pain. He opens his eyes and you can see he is starting to panic. He tries to sit up and grab at the wires and IV’s. You reach out and gently place your hands on his arms to push him back.

“Hey, hey shh you’re okay. You’re in the hospital. My name is y/n I’m your nurse.” He stops struggling and looks at you. He doesn’t look frightened anymore, just confused. He tries to talk but no sound comes out. He starts coughing and winces.

“You want some water?” He nods his head. You get up and fill up the cup and hand it to him. He drinks it graciously and holds the cup out asking for more.

“You just woke up from a major surgery. I can’t give you more just yet I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Thank you anyway.”

“Can you tell me what your name is? We just have you listed as John Doe.” He laughs breathlessly.

“Probably best if you don’t know my name sweetheart. Could get you in trouble to even be associated with me, if the fact that you helped saved my life hasn’t already got you into trouble that is.” He lifts up his eyebrow questioningly at you.

“What do you mean? And if I’m already in trouble would it really hurt to tell me your name?” Now you’re curious.

“It’s Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.” You try not to let that name affect you but your eyes widen just a fraction and he catches it.

“Ah so you have heard of me. Can’t say I’m surprised. I’ve earned quite the reputation for myself haven’t I?” He looks down at his lap, almost sheepishly.

How could not know the Kim Namjoon. He was the most notorious mafia leader in the city of Seoul. Their gang Bangtan had seemingly run the other gangs out of the city and took over in less than a week.

“Yes you have. But that doesn’t matter to me. You’re still my patient and I’m going to treat you like everyone else.” He seems surprised by your answer.

“You’re not afraid of me?”

“With all due respect Mr. Kim you just got out of major surgery after being shot 3 times. I don’t think you could hurt me right now even if you wanted to.” He laughs at your response. And you are surprised by how innocent it sounds, and how adorable his dimples are. Did I really just think this mafia leader’s dimples are adorable. What the hell y/n.

“I like you. You got some fight in you.” You find yourself laughing along with him.

“So. Yesterday when I was walking out to my car I felt like someone was watching me..”

“Someone probably was. Could have been one of my own men or someone who wanted to make sure they finished the job when they shot me.”

“But how would they find that out? And how did they know I was the one who helped save you?”

“Money talks y/n. Your little rules and regulations mean nothing if offered the right price. Plus do you know how many people want me dead?”

“Probably half the city.” He laughs but there’s no humor behind it.

“Yeah, probably half the city.” He winces again and a hand flies up to his stomach.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to get you some more pain medications?”

“Yes. That would be wonderful.”

“I’ll go get the doctor.”

“Thank you, y/n. Not just for getting me the pain meds, but for also having a hand in saving my life. I owe you.” You’re not sure how you feel about the most notorious gang leader in all of Seoul owing you one.

“You’re welcome Mr. Kim.”

“Please call me Namjoon, no need to be so formal.”

After the doctor gives Namjoon his medicine he’s out like a light until there’s only a half hour left in your shift. He stirs and wakes up looking for you.

“Y/n? You’re still here?” You jump at the sound of his voice, having just sat in silence for the past 9 hours.

“I work 12 hour shifts Namjoon. I only have about 30 minutes left and then someone will be coming in to relieve me.” You see an unknown emotion flicker across his face. Disappointment?

“Will you be back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow is my last shift for the week.. Why?”

“I would appreciate it if you would let me have one of my men drive you back to your home and drive you to work. If someone has already found out you are working to help keep me alive it’s only a matter of time before they try to kill you too.”

“What? Namjoon no, that’s completely unnecessary and I can take care of myself.”

“Obviously you can’t if you chose to ignore you instincts when you thought someone was following you y/n. Always trust your gut, if you can’t do that you’ll never survive in this world.” Just as you were about to say something in retort your coworker came to relieve you.

“See you tomorrow y/n.” You say nothing, and just walk out of the room. You make it down to the lobby when you see a muscular guy with a bunny smile approaching you.

“Y/n right? I’m Jungkook. Namjoon asked me to be your escort for the next few days.” How the hell did he get someone over here that quick?! You thought to yourself.

“Thanks Jungkook.”

“No problem. In Bangtan we protect our own.” Our own?? What the hell did I just get myself into?

#bts #bts reaction #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts reactions #kim namjoon #rm #kim namjoon x reader #reader x namjoon #mafia au

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ace-jug · 6 years ago

Text

Richie and The Rabbit Hole (4)

Summary: When everyone goes back to their lives after Pennywise, Richie doesn't. He stays in Derry and finds a portal that leads back to 1989, only a few months after the loser club "defeated" Pennywise the first time.Using the help of the younger losers, adult Richie goes back in time to fix all the wrong that Pennywise caused when he came back the second time.

Rated: M

Relationship: Eddie/Richie

Current Word Count: 23,000+

Read on Archive: (x)

Tumblr Chapters: (1) (2) (3)

Chapter 4: What happened those next few years

Homecoming 1989:

Beverly held Ben’s hand tightly in hers as they danced, Ben spun Beverly around as they smiled at each other, and Beverly pecked Ben’s lips. He smiled brightly at her, it felt like a dream, like it wasn’t real, and Ben really wished this wasn’t Beverly’s last dance in Derry.

He didn’t think about that though, he lived in the moment, and continued to smile at his girlfriend.

Richie watched the couple in envy, as him and Eddie stayed on the sidelines drinking punch. Well, Richie was drinking the punch and Eddie refused, worried that someone had spiked it.

No one had, but even so, Richie couldn’t care less either way.

He really wished he could dance, but it made him nervous, and they did for a little while, but after a slow song came on, they hadn’t gone back out. Which was fine. Eddie didn’t really like dancing too close to the front, because it made him anxious, and all of his friends had dates except them, so it kind of felt like him and Eddie were constantly being the third and fourth wheel.

Eventually, they decided to sit on a bench towards the back, looking at the rest of the losers as they danced with their dates. They talked for awhile, about everything and nothing. Joking around and talking about Thundercats, but once the DJ said they had one last song and it was a slow song, both him and Eddie had gone eerily silent.

He was jealous, watching his friends look at their dates, and Richie wished he could too. He wish he had a date, mostly he wished his date was Eddie, but that could never happen. It's 1989 and any gay man or woman was a dead one. It wasn't like Eddie was anything but straight anyways.

Richie liked girls too. He thought they were pretty, wouldn't mind kissing one either, he just doesn't crush on girls much and if he does, they don't last long or are very strong.

Not since he started developing a crush for his best friend. Man, he hated his life. It would be so easy if Eddie was a girl or even just not around so that he could crush on girls freely without coming back to his main crush.

He sighed, letting the silence brew longer, as he continued to stare at his friends.

It was almost like Eddie could tell Richie was tense. To be fair, that's not hard, if Richie is silent that means something is wrong.

Because only a minute of thinking and watching his friends, Eddie had reached his hand out, brushing his fingertips on the top of Richie's hand resting on the bench, as if he was testing the waters, before fully resting his hand on top of Richie's.

Richie looked over at Eddie confusingly, but he didn't say anything. He just stared at their friends too. His cheeks were red, probably due to the cold fall air leaking in. They were close to the doors and their suits didn't do much to keep them warm.

Eddie was grinning and Richie decided it was best not to say anything. He barely moved. He couldn't really breathe. He didn't understand why Eddie would do something like this. Sure, it was comforting, but it was also just kinda.....gay and if anyone saw, oh boy would they be so fucked.

But Eddie didn't move. He didn't even seem concerned when the song ended. So, Richie didn't move either. Future Richie reminding him not to be scared and to not repress, he wasn't going to let something so small phases him.

So, he left his hand there, waiting for Eddie to move and he didn't, not even when their friends came over.

"Hey guys, ready to go back to Bill's?" Beverly asks them, holding Ben's hand, and Richie can see Ben stare at their hands. Notices Bev look for a second, before looking at them, not saying a word. None of them say anything, but they all notice, and it makes Richie feel like he's about to hyperventilate.

He still doesn't move his hand.

"I um kinda have to get home. My mom will kill me if I stay too late. I practically had to beg her to let me go without her picking me up at 8," Eddie says, sighing, disappointed.

"The dance started at 7," Mike said and Eddie nodded.

"You know how my mom is. Sorry guys, I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"See ya," Bill says with a wave and the rest of the losers follow.

"You coming Richie?" Mike asks and oh, right . They were all supposed to hang out post-dance and Eddie wasn't going.

Eddie wasn't going and he likely was going to walk home, so Richie won't go. He couldn't leave Eddie hanging.

"Nah, I'm a little tired. I think I'll go home."

Mike raises an eyebrow at him. Richie never says no to hanging out, especially to a reason of being "tired", but Mike lets it be, waving and catching up with his date.

Neither of the boys say anything to each other, even when the other losers are gone. It's almost as if they're scared that if they say anything to each other that they'll have to acknowledge what they're doing.

It's stupid. They are barely touching and both their hands are sweaty, but it means the world to both of them, even if neither of them will admit it.

Once the gym is practically empty and people start cleaning up, Eddie gets up and instead of letting his hand leave Richie's, he's pulling Richie up and intertwines their fingers together.

Richie can't breathe and he can't talk. He's lost for words and Eddie's face is red all over.

Richie had no idea that the cold was affecting him so badly. I mean, it’s fall, but Eddie looks like it’s below zero. He’s shaking and Richie is sure it’s because it’s cold, but Eddie’s hand is warm and sweaty, probably due to Richie’s own hand. That may even be the reason why Eddie’s still clutching on to his hand.

He wants to ask Eddie if he's okay, but he's still afraid that Eddie might drop his hand if he does anything.

He just stared, watching Eddie look at the ground for a few moments, before looking up at Richie, barely able to look at him.

"Let's go, yeah?" Eddie asks and he sounds nervous for whatever reason. Richie isn't sure why.

"Uh... yeah," he says, hesitation in his voice.

Eddie squeezes his hand and they walk out into the cold fall air, standing close, as their arms sway back and forth.

They eventually get to talking and they don't talk about their hands. It takes awhile, but soon, they talk like both of them had forgotten. Eddie spitfire talks and jumps a bit when he does, making Richie giggle, because of how cute it is. Richie even brings his left hand to poke Eddie in the rib, making him yelp. Somehow the hands get tighter and they get closer, but then, they reach Eddie's house.

Eddie frowns and sighs, but he let's their hands go and Richie is disappointed for a half second. That is, until half a second later, Eddie is hugging him, face nuzzling Richie's neck and Richie is sure he's never had a hug as intimate as this one. It makes his stomach grow with butterflies and his heart flips.

For once Richie is silent and Eddie expects him to say something. To laugh it off, but he doesn't, he just hugs back, and it's weird. Really weird, but it's nice, and when Richie let's go, he regrets not kissing him.

Eddie waits a moment, as if he's expecting it, doe like brown eyes looking at Richie's like he wants something, but nothing comes, and Eddie finds himself letting go of him, waving to Richie, walking into his front door.

He smiles and even though Richie didn't get everything he wanted, it was enough. It was more than enough, for now at least.

It was a start into something that neither boy got to experience the first go through.

....

FALL 1989:

Beverly still moves that fall, but she remembers, and that's the most important part. She promises to write and call. She does. She calls Richie and Ben the most. It becomes almost a daily occurrence. Whenever Richie or her can't call the other, they'll let the other know beforehand. It becomes routine and Richie misses her. Maybe not as much as Ben, but Beverly is one of his best friends. She means everything to him and even though he never sees her, most of the time it's like she never left at all.

....

Richie stops going to the arcade after that summer. Even though he knows that Henry is gone, the thought of seeing that boy or even anyone who witnessed what happened last time, shakes him to the core.

They still call him a faggot at school, but it could be worse, and the arcade was his time to have fun, not be humiliated and paranoid, so he doesn’t go.

Eddie notices.

"Why don't you go to the arcade anymore?" Eddie asks one fall afternoon.

It's Saturday and it's only the two. Currently they're sitting in Eddie's room with the door propped open. Eddie is working on homework, while Richie lazily lays on his bed, throwing a ball into the air and sighing every 30 seconds due to boredom.

"I don't know. I think the real question here is why are you doing homework on a Saturday when we could literally be doing anything else?”

“Unlike you, I’m not a brainyach. I have to try in school to do good and don’t change the subject,” Eddie says, writing on his paper, continuing his homework.

“I told you, I don’t know. I guess I’ve just been busy," Richie says, very unconvincingly.

“Pfft, yeah okay. You don’t go from going to the arcade everyday to never going at all. Besides, what about Wednesday, when we were all busy. What’d you do then?” Eddie asked, continuing to look at his paper, almost finished with his assignment.

Richie knows exactly what he did on Wednesday, he sat at home bored, barely doing anything at all. He actually can’t remember a day he was ever that bored, but he couldn’t let Eddie know that.

“I fucked your mom, duh.”

“That’s not funny, I’m being serious Rich,” Eddie says, turning around in his chair to look at Richie.

“Why don’t you go anymore? It was your favorite place. Did something happen?” Eddie continues, worried about his friend.

“Why would you think that? Like I told you. I DON’T KNOW. I just haven’t went.”

“That’s bullshit and you know that. You can tell me, ya know. You’re my best friend.”

“Holy shit!” Richie exclaims and Eddie looks back at him confusingly. “What?”

“I’m your best friend,” Richie says, smiling wide, and Eddie rolls his eyes, then scoots his chair a little closer to Richie to hit him in the shoulder.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much. Just, I guess you don’t have to tell me, you don’t have to, but like, I’m here for you,” Eddie says and Richie sighed.

He's scared to tell Eddie. He’s scared that if he says exactly what happened that Eddie will know his sexuality. That Eddie will question Richie until he realizes his embarrassing crush, ruining their friendship forever.

But that’s the thing. None of the losers reacted to Pennywise telling them he wasn’t straight. They didn’t care or they didn’t seem to care and Eddie already knew what Pennywise said. Didn’t even question it and that’s the only thing that gave him enough courage to tell him.

“Okay, fine, I was playing street fighter with this dude and when I suggested we play another game, he told me that I wasn’t his “fucking boyfriend” in front of everyone. Henry Bowers yelled at me, called me a faggot, and I don’t know, I guess I’m afraid of being bullied if I went back. It’s not like I have anyone to go with. I don’t have any friends there.”

Eddie stays silent for a second, not knowing what to say for a moment.

“I uh, I’m sorry. What if I went with you?”

Richie chuckled, shaking his head. “I thought you said video games were a waste of time.”

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know, I haven’t got to play much. My mom always said they rot your brains, but I mean, I’m sure they're fun. You’ll just have to teach me.”

“Really? You’ll go to the arcade with me?”

“I mean, yeah, sure, but only if you stop with the your mom jokes.”

“But they aren’t jokes, Eddie, my love! They’re true facts.”

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie rolls his eyes again, pretending to be upset, and giggling in failure.

“Just let me finish my paper and we can go. I have about 5 minutes tops.”

“That works out pretty well for me. I’ll just go bang your mom, considering your mom usually only lasts about 5 minutes anyways.”

“Shut up!”

......

"This is going to be so much fun!" Richie yells, fist full of popcorn in his hands, he's chewing loudly, jumping with every step. "Halloween 5. The Revenge of Michael Myers. I wonder who the victim will be this time. Not your mom I hope, because otherwise I'll need to find a new fuck buddy and-" "Beep beep Richie," Bill says, taking some of Richie's popcorn and making his way to some seats in the back.

"I can't believe that all Bill had to do was wink at the ticket lady and we got in," Mike said. "To be fair, she didn't really seem to care about her job."

"I mean, I wouldn't either. For minimum wage, they'd be lucky if I stayed at my post. I don't understand why they don't just become a hooker like me and get paid to-"

"For being a virgin Richie, you really do talk a big game," Mike says and Richie gasps, putting a hand on his chest.

"Me!? A virgin!? How dare you!"

Stan rolls his eyes. "We're all virgins asshole."

“Yeah, I’ve never even had my first kiss,” Mike says. “There is nothing wrong with it. We’re only 13.”

“Whatever,” Richie says, taking another drink from his oversized and overpriced soda.

“I haven’t had my first kiss either,” Eddie says. “I think kissing is something special. Not something you do with everyone. That’s how you get mouth herpes. My mom told me about it.”

“Your mom told you about mouth herpes?” Richie asked and Eddie shrugged.

“Not really. She told me about it vaguely, but I knew what she was talking about. You guys talk way too much about STDs by the way.”

“I do not,” Richie says and in unison all the losers say “yes, you do.”

“Fine, maybe i do, but saying your mom has crabs is the best insult.”

“Yeah, saying my mom has an STD is so original Rich!” Eddie says and Richie laughs. “I only say it because it’s true!~” he teases and Eddie shoves him in the arm.

“Stop being an asshole Rich!”

“Fine, if I’m such an asshole, I’m not sharing my popcorn!” Richie exclaims and Eddie pouts. “Okay, that’s not fair!”

“Yes it is, you-” before Richie can finish his sentence, the lights dim and Stan hushes them. Richie sulks in his seat, whispering in his ear.

“You can have some popcorn, but only because I feel bad that I gave your mom herpes.”

Eddie shoves him again, but takes popcorn nonetheless and before he knows it, he’s entranced with the movie, or as much as he can be, with Eddie constantly grasping at him at any given “scary” moment. Bill is on Eddie’s right, but he doesn’t touch him, he only touches Richie, and it makes Richie’s chest warm.

Eddie grasps his arm, then his hand, and before he knows it, Richie feels Eddie’s hand in his hand and Eddie is putting his face in his shoulder, half looking at the movie, and half hiding. It’s funny, but it’s also incredibly cute.

Once the movie is over though, Eddie releases him and sighs. “You okay?” Richie asks and Eddie stares off in space for a few moments before nodding “yeah, I think ever since the clown, these movies just feel more real.”

Richie never thought about it that way, but he can understand. “It’s fine Eds. Just a movie, if anything, I’ll protect you from all the baddies,” he says, kneeling into Eddie and again, Eddie shoves him.

“If anything I’m the one protecting you.”

“Oh, I forgot, my darling prince Edward, he has come to save me from all the baddies~ I will never have to worry again!”

“You’re so mean,” Eddie says, smiling at him, and if Eddie holds his hand the next scary movie, Richie doesn’t complain, It becomes routine and maybe Eddie isn’t really all that scared, but Richie doesn’t need to know that.

Richie and Eddie don’t kiss that fall, but something is different about their relationship. The other loser’s notice, but don’t say anything, mainly because they aren’t exactly sure what it is. Eddie goes with him to the arcade a lot and turns out... Eddie's actually pretty good at street fighter. The guys still call him a faggot and they call Eddie his boyfriend sometimes. Eddie doesn't say anything about it, he doesn't even seem all that bothered by it, and neither does Richie. For the most part though, the arcade is fun and sometimes it makes Richie forget why he ever stopped.

......

SUMMER 1991

"I'm moving," is the first thing that Richie says when he walks into the club house. All the other losers are already there and Richie's eyes are red and puffy. Everyone knows he's been crying. It's not like he did a good job of hiding it and that would also explain why his parents had to talk with him after school.

The rest of the losers stay silent for a moment, none of them know what to say, it felt like their world was falling apart. First Beverly, now Richie, then next, who knows? They didn't want Richie to leave, but they had to show Richie they cared, that everything was going to be okay. So after a few moments, Stanley gets up across the room to give Richie a hug, the rest following suit, except Eddie.

Eddie doesn't look at Richie or anyone, he stares at the ground, and he's unsure of what to do. He couldn't comprehend his emotions and he felt like he had gone empty, because his best friend, the person he confided in everything with, was going to be gone in less than a week.

Ben is the one who looks at Richie in sorrow, then back at Eddie, giving him his hand to pull him in the hug as well.

"When are you leaving?" Ben asks and Richie, voice shaking, and tears rolling down his face, says "5 days, we're moving to Texas."

"We're going to hang out with you everyday until then," Bill says. "We're going to get drunk and we-we we're gonna play your favorite games. It's gonna be the best week ever!"

"Thanks guys," Richie says, smiling through his tears and hugging his best friends. He was really going to miss them and he couldn’t ask the world for better friends.

.......

They do hang out every day after that, all the losers. They get drunk (or at least most of them do), they watch Richie’s favorite movies, they go to the arcade twice, and they swim. It’s the best 5 days Richie could ever ask for, but then, just like that, it’s all over and Richie has to leave Derry.

It sucks and they group hug again. It’s almost midnight and they’re in Bill’s basement. All the losers are spending the night besides Richie, who had to get up at 8am the next day to pack up a truck full of stuff, and endure a very long car ride.

“Call, okay?” Stan says and Richie nods. “Don’t worry Stan the man, you couldn’t get rid of my annoying ass if you tried.”

“Figured much,” Stan said, rolling his eyes, but smiling and Bill’s mom is yelling down the stairs. “Richie, your mom is here.”

“That’s my cue,” Richie says, doing his best to keep his composure and walking up the stairs, towards the door, but as soon as he gets to the top, Eddie is pulling him into the bathroom and locking the door.

“What are you-?”

“I just, I needed to say goodbye,” Eddie said, jumping at Richie to hug him, and Richie lets himself hug Eddie back.

“You already did that, stupid,” he says and Eddie pulls his head back, but continues to hug him. Richie boops on the nose, leading Eddie to crinkle it.

Richie really wants to kiss him and Eddie is so close, he can feel his breath on his face. He wants it so badly and Eddie is looking at him with his big brown eyes, it’s intoxicating, but he looks away, hugs Eddie again and says “I’ll call you okay?”

“Yeah, me too,” Eddie says, finally letting Richie go, and for one last time, Richie looks at 15 year old Eddie, then walks out.

.....

Richie leaves his house 7am the next morning and surprisingly his over stressed mother doesn't notice him slip through the door. He hadn't slept at all and the worst part, he couldn't stop thinking of the way Eddie hugged him, how close their lips had gotten. How much he wanted to just move his face an inch closer and now, he'd never have that chance again or at least that's what he believed. So, he rides his bike to the kissing bridge and once he gets there, he does anything a stupid kid in love would do, he carves their initials there and hopes, that maybe, one day, they'll kiss for real, even though he know that won't happen for so many reasons, but somehow carving into the wood makes him feel better, then he rides his bike back home, helps load as much as he can, and then he's being driven away.

Richie never kissed Eddie in his room, at the movie theater, at the club house, the arcade, at the quarry, or Bill's bathroom, because he's still afraid of it all.

The losers never pried or asked him about his sexuality and Richie can’t thank them enough for that, because even with everything future Richie said, it doesn’t stop him from being afraid.

When Richie leaves that summer, Eddie holds him like it’ll be the last, but like Beverly, the most important part is that Richie doesn’t forget and neither does Eddie.

.....

Actually, Richie and Eddie start talking on the phone everyday, just like they promised. More than Richie does with Beverly, which Richie didn't know could be topped.

Eddie talks to him after school everyday for hours and usually he only stops when Sonia yells at him to stop. It's nice and when Richie starts at his new school with no friends, everything fades when he gets home to talk to Eddie and afterwards to Stan or Beverly. The other losers call him too. They all do, but Eddie is the only one that makes plans to do it everyday.

.....

FALL 1992-1993

Richie gets his first girlfriend when he's 16. She's part of the drama club and asks him out only two weeks into the semester. It's sweet and she's his first kiss.

He tells Beverly first and Stan second. He's bubbling with excitement and any chance he gets, he talks about her.

He doesn't even realize that he hasn't told Eddie until Eddie points it out.

"Why didn't you tell me you had a girlfriend?" was the first thing that Eddie asked when he called Richie and Richie almost said well, hello to you too, but he doesn't, he just shrugs before realizing that Eddie can't see him.

"I don't know, I guess I just forgot," Richie said, because it was true in a way. Anytime he talked with Eddie he forgot he had a girlfriend.

"Yeah, okay," Eddie said, hanging up and when Eddie didn't call him the next few days afterwards, he gets worried.

Just like anytime though, Eddie calls, forgives him, and they move on.

He does it again the next time he gets a girlfriend and the time after that. He's honestly surprised that Eddie forgives him the third time, he knows he shouldn't be forgiven, but at the same time he's not sure why he doesn't tell Eddie. He forgets, he really does, and he wonders if that's weird.

He doesn't give it much time and before he knows it, it's the beginning of senior year, and the future is all anyone can talk about, including Eddie.

"I'm going to apply to NYU," Eddie says. "Do you know what you're doing for college?"

"Ummm, I don't know. Maybe not go to school? I'm going to be famous Eds, remember?"

"Yeah, but not without working your ass off. Remember?"

"Yeah, I know, but like, what would I go to school for? Drama?"

"I mean, you could? There are a lot of good schools in New York for that, I heard."

"Wow, is Edward trying to kidnap me and go to New York with him? I knew you were in love with me baby," Richie says making kissing noises in the phone and laughing at the teasing.

"Shut up. I was just making a suggestion," Eddie says, chewing at the bottom of his lips, blushing

"Okay, sure, I'll go with you."

"Wait, what?" Eddie says, because there was no way Richie said that or if he did, he didn't mean it.

"I'll go with you," Richie repeats, no indication of mocking or teasing and Eddie starts sweating, his voice shaking.

"You're not even going to think about it? I mean, what if I don't get accepted or you don't get accepted?"

"I mean, New York seems fun. Great place for me to start my career in being famous. Originally my plan was L.A, but New York should work too. Plus, you'll get in and if I don't, I don't really need college that badly."

"Oh. I didn't know. You can go to L.A Richie. Don't let me hold you back."

"You won't. That's the thing about me, I can become famous anywhere Dr.Edward."

"Never call me that again."

"But you're going to med school Eds! Everyone is going to call you that. Why not me?"

"I'm not going to med school. Honestly, I'd rather not be around sick or dying people. I've been doing research and I kind of want to go to school to be a risk analyst. Also, I told you not to call me Eds, you know I don't like it when you call me that."

"So, I should go back to Dr.Edward or maybe just classic Eddie spaghetti? I could go with son too considering i'm fucking your mom. Yeah, son, what does that job entail?" Richie says the last part in a very prominent English Man accent and Eddie rolls his eyes. Even if Richie can't see it, he still knows that what Eddie does.

"Shut up dickwad," Eddie says harshly, but jokingly, and licks his lips a second, before talking again, the aggression leaving his voice. "If you wanna know what risk analytics are about. Well, you see-" Eddie starts and Richie stops him by snoring loudly on the phone.

"Hey!"

"Was that job invented before fun?"

"Well, it's safe and makes a decent living. Cut me some slack. I'd rather do that than go on a stage and embarrass myself."

"I'm the king of embarrassing myself as long as that means money and free blow jobs."

"You're fucking gross."

"Yeah, well the apple doesn't fall far free from the tree my boy," Richie says, this time in a stereotypical American dad accent.

"Will you ever stop?"

"Nope."

"Should have seen that coming. Well, I got to go. I'm going to apply to NYU today. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Okay, love you sweetie pie, have a good day, don't forget to kiss Mrs.K for me!"

Richie hangs up and Eddie fills out the application, rides his bike to the post office, and sends it.

#Reddie #Reddie fanfic #Fanfic

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omgreading · 5 years ago

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2020 Goals Update #176: June 24th

Watched two episodes of Alexa & Katie

Wasted HOURS looking at memes and clickbait articles

Began working on my German activities

Went to Wally World and got some new nail polish

Attended Collaborate meeting for German and took oral quiz, I think I did well

Continued working on German activities

Tidied my desk

Finished German activities

Took a nap

Began and finished writing assignment

Read The Buried Giant for 54m 3s and read 69 pages, finishing the book

Wrote half a page in my journal

Oh boy, did I make terrible choices today. I went down a meme/ranker clickbait rabbit hole and stayed there for hours! I got out of that stupor around 6 AM and began working on my German activities. I had about 25 to do at 6 AM and finished the last one at 3 PM. In between that time we went out for breakfast and to the store and I cleaned up my desk. If I had not wasted time this morning, I could have knocked it all out in about two hours. Instead, I didn’t sleep until I finished and had to fight my sleep hysteria to get them done. I took a nap at 4 PM because I needed sleep. I got up at 8 PM and started my writing assignment and finished it 30 minutes before it was due. I need to manage my time better. I finally finished The Buried Giant!! The book was great and I would have probably finished it in 1-3 days instead of 8 if I wasn’t making such poor choices all the time. Despite all of this, today was a good and productive day for me.

Assignments are always due, so I will work on them tomorrow. I will start another book! Seeing how slow I read the last one, it will probably be my last book for June.

#booklr #bookblr #bibliophile #bookworm #bookish #2020goals #2020update #the buried giant #alexa & katie #alexa and katie #schooling #queen of procrastination #omgposts #text

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acrcsstheuniversee · 6 years ago

Text

Good Enough For Me

Pairing: Paul McCartney circa 1962 x John Lennon circa 1978 (McLennon)

Rating: Mature, readers 18+

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of porn and sex work

Words in this chapter: 1800+

Author’s Note:

Here it is! Refer to my summary and introduction post if you haven’t done so for more disclaimers, visuals, tag list info, and more.

*Disclaimer: I do not own The Beatles. This is fiction and written for leisure. Aspects of the story will not be historically accurate and should not be taken extremely seriously.

Chapter 1

Already a month into the semester, Paul found himself struggling to keep up with his studies. He tried his best to focus on typing an essay on the history of guitars that’s due the next day by 10 a.m. but just couldn’t get himself to do it. Not like it was hard or anything; he just hated doing what he’s told, especially if it was something he didn’t care about. He just wanted to do music but having a degree is a necessity now.

He pressed the home button on his cracked phone screen to see that it was already midnight. He was only half way done with the assignment that could’ve taken him only 30 minutes if he wasn’t writing songs in between paragraphs.

It was all too much anyways. American universities have much more homework assignments than back in England. Times like these made him question whether or not going out of the country for school was worth it. There almost seemed like there were more cons than pros in his decision. He lacked resources, he didn’t have any friends or family here except his roommate/best friend George, he was poorer than ever, and must work and attend school part-time. If he stayed in Liverpool and just continued school locally, he probably would’ve earned his degree by now; but now he’s what Americans consider a “super senior” because he’s 21 years old with the amount of classes completed equivalent to a third year student. Despite the struggle, all of it was better than his father dictating his every move.

He shut his laptop, giving up on the assignment and leaned back into his desk chair, rubbing his tired droopy eyes.

He had two classes and work tomorrow. The thought of them made him roll his eyes. Music history from 10 a.m. to 12 p.m., a business class he couldn’t remember the name of from 1 p.m. to 2 p.m., and work right after at a restaurant nearby as a dishwasher, and occasionally performer if the artist they booked cancelled that night.

He yawned as he got up and slide into his bed. Before shutting his eyes, he turned his head and looked directly across the tiny dorm room to his right to see his childhood best friend and roommate, George Harrison sound asleep.

Paul really needs to take a note out of George’s book and sleep earlier. These late nights are just stressing him out more and more.

***

“Paul….. PAUL! Get up!”

Paul jolted up right when a sudden raised voice rang in his ear. His eyes met George’s signature judgemental look. One of his thick brows cocked and his lips curved awkwardly. He was already ready to go to class.

“Ah, what time is it?”

“9:30. I woke you up 30 minutes before hand because I just know you aren’t going to get up to the 9:45 alarm unless you expect to make it to your first class in 15 minutes,” George teased.

George is a pain in the ass and a know-it-all, but Paul loved him dearly. He comes off mean sometimes but Paul knows it’s just because he’s younger and feels the need to prove himself. Paul was used to it after all this time but sometimes, that boy needs to know when his criticisms cross the line. Despite being a dick sometimes, they’re both grateful to be going to the same college together. It was one in a million chances for George to land the same US college as Paul just a year after Paul’s acceptance.

“Okay, whatever. You have a point, I guess.” Paul groaned and rolled out of bed.

“I know I do, ha. I’ll see you later.” George messed up his friend��s darkhair more than it already was, making Paul swat his hand away.

When George left, Paul finally got ready and headed off to class with his incomplete essay.

Everyone was already seated and the professor was setting up today’s powerpoint lecture when he finally arrived. Paul sat down in the back where he’s been since the beginning of the semester. It hasn’t been a problem until a girl started to sit near him everyday since last week. When group or partnered work was assigned, she would often ask him to join her. She was kind, but Paul knew she liked him. She couldn’t make it less obvious. They would make small talk here and there---just about classes and hobbies. She was also very good at piano just as Paul was, but not too good on guitar though she claims to be.

He felt her looking at him, making him turn his head to find out he was right. She just smiled and waved. Paul nodded and gave her a small smile in return, trying not to show too much emotion, afraid she would like that too much. She already had the wrong idea but he didn’t want to be mean about it. Paul was not interested in the slightest and, he was gay. Found that out in high school and hasn’t been too shy about it since then.

When class ended, Paul left immediately to his second class to avoid conversation with anyone. This next one was business related which is something he also could care less about. He was a bit behind in this one too, but this time, he truly didn’t understand the material. He definitely needed a tutor soon.

Not much happened other than him writing mini poems all over his in-class assignment. He didn’t even bother erasing any of it before turning it in at the end of class.

Paul sighed as he made himself to his busboy job right off campus. Before stepping inside, he felt his phone vibrate. It was his dad. Ugh, he thought but answered.

“I’m about to go into work, Dad. What is it?”

“Well, hello to you too. I was just wondering how the first month in the states have been. I haven’t heard from you.”

“It’s fine.”

“Just fine? Have you got a chance to tour places? You should send me photos.”

“No and no. I don’t want you to be sending the pictures to your friends as if you helped me get here. I know you do that.”

Paul heard his father sigh.

“Just text me when you get home and tell George I said hi.”

“Okay, bye.” Paul said before hanging up and walking into his shift.

It seemed harsh but his dad was a selfish prick. He loves to be in control of everything. He was the reason Paul came to the states to study. All he wanted was to ride the wave of success his two sons have been achieving.

In all truthfulness, Paul stopped believing his dad’s bullshit after mom died about 6 years ago. His dad seemed to have lost his way but Paul couldn’t be around all the time if he had a dream to follow. It’s been rough without his mom around but Paul had to do what he was right for him, even if that meant getting away from his dad which is something even she would’ve supported.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how irritating school and his dad were during his shift. The rude coworkers and customers didn’t help his case at all. This wasn’t new though. Paul was used to working constantly in some shape or form. The only problem this time is that he needed more money now that he’s completely independent from his father.

“Hey, busboy!” his boss called out to the dishroom from the back office. Paul rolled his eyes and went to see what he wanted.

“Yes?”

“I have to cut your hours in half. Here is your new schedule. You’re off now, so don’t wash another dish.”

“In half?” Paul took the schedule and saw that his income now would not suffice his monthly tuition payments, let alone some money for necessities. “You’ve got to be shitting me. Why?”

“We can’t afford to pay you. I’m sorry, kid.” he said nonchalantly.

“Will I be able to perform sometimes still?”

“Ehh, sure.” he said as he continued his paperwork, not even looking at Paul.

Paul rolled his eyes again. Could his life get any more annoying? He let out a sigh and clocked out. Now what, he thought making his way home.

When he got home George was playing his computer games with his big headphones to fit on his large ears. The younger man didn’t even notice his friend come in until one side of his headphones was pulled and slapped against his head.

“Hey!” George readjusted himself then paused his game to face Paul with his eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“My hours got slashed.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope, hah.”

George frowned.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Are you going to find another job?”

“Well, I’m going to have to because I will not be asking my dad for help.” Paul said as changed into his pajamas and hopped onto his bed.

George sighed. Paul just stared at his friend for a moment, not knowing what to say. This was bad news for both of them. George didn’t have the same financial issues as Paul did. He only had enough for himself. If George could help, he would---and Paul knew he would.

“I’ll think of something, George. Don’t worry.” Paul got under the covers and listened to his friend shut off his computer and lights before hopping into bed as well.

He stared at the ceiling and sighed, then began to think about all the ways he can make money quickly but none of it would be fast enough to pay his next tuition bill. He rubbed his eyes. It was beginning to stress him out the more he thought of it and he just wanted it to all stop for a second.

Ah fuck it, he thought before whipping out his phone and started to scroll through his favorite porn blog on Tumblr. What better way to forget about things than looking at some sexy pictures of guys?

Paul scrolled until he ran into a post that was by a male sex worker selling nude photos and thought hard to himself. It was a young guy about his age selling his photos for $25 a piece and a private snapchat story for $5 per friend request and $15 extra for screenshot privileges.

Paul bit his lip nervously. It’s been a couple years since he did sex work. All he did was some cam work, sold some nude photos, and made customized videos for people on the internet. He remembered enjoying it but there was always the parts he hated that made the job extremely draining like any other job.

He laid there staring at the screen. He must admit, it was tempting to dive in again but he was afraid what George would think.

“George… Maybe I should go back into sex work…” Paul said suddenly.

George didn’t reply. He just snored in in response. That bastard.

Paul sighed and continued to scroll through sex work blogs, inspired by the possibilities until he slowly drifted to sleep.

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