#if there’s any fics or art for these three pls share it in the notes I love them so much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

felicitywrites · 3 years

Text

fragments | jimin x reader [06]

synopsis: your heart sank to your stomach as you stepped out of your room, and right there in your kitchen was the last person you ever wanted to see again. he acted as though he still lived there with you, knew each and every corner like the back of his hand and you blinked harshly trying to convince yourself you were dreaming.

impossible. this is impossible.

what was park jimin doing in your apartment, in your own loose bathrobe, pouring you a cup of coffee as he greeted you with that stupid smile on his face, when three years ago, you were certain he was out of your life forever as he left you here on your own and run into the arms of someone else?

this should be a dream, you repeated.

until you figured out it actually wasn't -- because this was that day, the one before you confronted him about his affair.

unfortunately, you were about to relive the same day over and over again, and you had absolutely no idea as to why.

pairing: professor!jimin x author!reader

genre: 70% angst, 20% smut, 10% fluff

warnings: an emotional rollercoaster, infidelity, betrayal, self-destructive behaviors, unhealthy coping mechanisms, pining, toxic and abusive relationships, self-blaming, gaslighting, smut

status: COMPLETED

word count: 7.2k

song recs: milk & honey - billie marten (alt version) | the butterfly effect - before you exit | the other - lauv | who - lauv ft. bts

taglist: @mickmoon @mawwnsterr @peanutbutterjm @sweet--catastrophee @loljrau @bri-mal @christiandosworld @park-jimin-isnt-real | message me if you wanna be added!

[fic masterlist]

chapter warnings: idk but this is the angstiest smut i've written ever, influenced by alcohol, fears, regrets, feelings, loneliness, yearning, w/ lots of crying and pent-up anger involved, also jealousy and insecurities, mentions of sleeping pills, mental relapse, nightmares

gosh this is too heavy pls take note of these!

Scrub, Sweep, Wipe. Start over.

The cycle went on and on, and for two weeks you've been keeping at it just so you could distract yourself from thinking about the party.

There's been things you can't face yet and as much as possible, you want to avoid any intimate conversation with literally anyone who knew and saw you with him, your ex-boyfriend.

Eyes fixated on the TV as a variety show played on the screen and a bunch of celebrities you never even heard of laughed in unison at a punchline you clearly missed;

You do anything to push the thoughts of him away, shove the memories you shared like dirt under the rug. Slowly, though, it's eating you away all the same.

Saturday afternoons were always fun. At least since your mother moved in with you, weekends were starting to feel worthwhile. You and her spending time and bonding well as your tastes in food and movies were alike.

Music, however, it's different. And your mother choosing to hang out with her friends for the weekend instead of you speaking louder, she did it to dodge your misplaced anger and frustration and let you suffer on your own.

Your phone screen lit up, a preview of Hyerim's text was shown and you quickly tossed the useless remote control away and unlocked your device.

[Hyerim]: hey let's meet! got sum tix for a one-night show at the uni bar.

[Hyerim]: it's taemin

[You]: and who is that? when does it happen?

[Hyerim]: tonight!!! it's an alumnus from the performing arts dept and is your ex's friend. they met at group therapy last year.

Therapy?

You narrowed your eyes, looking up to think. Jimin didn't mention anything about group therapy. He went to one?

Typing in the question instead of overthinking it, you wondered if she said it by accident but then..

[You]: jimin went to therapy?

[Hyerim]: yes. didn't he tell you? i thought.. well, you were with him the whole night of the party so i assumed you two talked about you know.. life

[You]: no.. maybe he's uncomfortable? anyways, fine i'll see you tonight. the uni bar, what time?

[Hyerim]: sorry! okay if he arrives then could you swear you won't tell him i spilled his little secret? love you x see you later at 7

You felt a lump in your throat, tugging onto the walls and you found it harder to breathe as the seconds passed by.

The urge to confront him was strong but you had to respect his boundaries. If he was willing to share such information to you then you should know he will, maybe when he's ready.

But then where do you stand in his life? Other than his ex-girlfriend whom he spent a night with two weeks ago after three years of separation? Who are you now?

Your mind was a raging chaos until Namjoon's face displayed on the screen. You answered, taking a deep breath. "Hey Joon.."

"Sup, princess? Just checking in if you've been able to run through the revision of your manuscript? Or haven't you gotten my emails?"

Your eyes widened, gasping, "Oh gosh! I forgot to see them. Sorry, Joon. It's been crazy lately.. Let me open them real quick, stay on the line!"

"Wait, Y/N! Listen.."

"What?" you asked, rushing to grab your laptop from your bedroom before dashing back to the couch to sit and open your unread emails, switching the call to loudspeaker mode.

"Jimin and I met three days ago.." he revealed, yet you were too focused on reading the revision word by word that it took you longer to react.

"And.. I think we're cool.. I just - I'm wondering if you and him are, too. I asked him yesterday but he shrugged it off and drank the night away. I took it as a sign that perhaps, something happened?" he continued, unaware of your divided attention.

"Y/N? You there?"

You flinched, returning to the call, "Yes? What'd you say? Sorry but have I been rough with my vocabulary? The revision, it's 70% yours. I feel awful.. I think I should just get back to writing as soon as I feel like it. Don't you think so?"

Namjoon breathed into the line, uninterested in your ramblings as his concern laid onto you and your relationship with Jimin.

"So you weren't listening..."

"What? You were saying... something about Jimin, yeah?"

He sighed, exasperated in his tone. "I was asking you if you and him are okay. If the party helped you catch up or something. I called you because he said nothing when I passed him the question so I thought it didn't work fine that night?"

You paused, shutting your eyes before doing the same to your laptop and placed it on the coffee table. Namjoon's breathing was heard across the room and you contemplated whether to tell him the truth or shrug it off like Jimin did.

Of course, you heard him - you were just feigning ignorance as you have been doing for weeks. With no fail, you avoided being anywhere around Jimin whenever you were at the university working with the project.

Having Sooyoung with you to instead communicate with him was easier than dealing with facing him when all you could think about was the party.

You can trust Namjoon, as always. But now that you've figured out he and Jimin somehow made up, you're worried he might be upset with you for leading your ex-boyfriend on.

Either way, you've got no one to confide in other than him.

You had to rely on someone, so against your judgment, you confessed.

"We almost had sex that night.. that's what happened."

Namjoon was silent. You went on. "And halfway through making out, I said I still love him. I was a drunken mess, Joon. It was supposed to be an excuse but then after the fact, I told him I meant it though I was uncertain myself. It was stupid. I fucked up. Now, I can't take it back.. He must have thought I was toying with him for revenge or something when I'm not. I can't. Not when he's changed."

Your insides burn at the unresolved issues you were so afraid to try and face head-on, the truth that gnawed at you then resurfaced with your own emotions weighing you down.

The questions remained. Do you still love him? Was it a mere drunken mistake? Did you kiss him and mean it? Or was it right to blame it on alcohol because after all, you don't love him anymore.

And what you felt that night was nothing but yearning and longing for a familiar touch, for him, the desire to reignite the lost spark in between the two of you.

That's what you wanted to believe.

"You know what I'm going to say next, Y/N. We've been here quite too many times already, right? You can't keep hiding from it, don't wait until it catches onto you later in life."

You gave up, hand clutching on your chest willing your still mending heart to latch on a little more. You need time just as much as your heart does.

"I'll talk to him tonight... I promise."

Squeezing your small frame into the mass of people, majority being university students in packs chattering amongst themselves as they crowd the entryway;

You're exhausted even before you succeed in going in, finding Hyerim tucked in the farthest booth near the mini stage. She waved at you full of enthusiasm, motioned you to your right and when you looked, there's the bar offering free drinks to those with VIP tickets.

You failed to see which kind of ticket Hyerim sent over to you earlier, mind clouded to think about anything else other than the promise you made to finally talk to Jimin.

Climbing up a few steps towards the bar, a waiter handed you two bottles and you winced. "Are these paid?" you asked foolishly, eyes squinting over the flickering lights surrounding you.

"They come along with the tickets," a young male answered for the waiter, and you turned to him and slowly nodded, smiling gratefully. "Oh, thanks," you muttered and glanced back at the waiter who disappeared in sight.

"You're a student?" the guy leaned in, voice rising above the overlapping ones behind you. "No, but my friend's a professor here.." you told him as you whirled around to leave.

"Hot," he grumbled as you made your way to the booth without sparing him another look. "Not tonight," you shrugged, feeling more horrible than ever.

The booth could fit four people, and Hyerim's spot faced the stage and you settled beside her. She's typing on her phone when you arrived and she hurried to shut it off before gazing at you.

"That dress, I love it. Is that yours?" she asked, you nodded with a shy smile plastered on your face. "I told you, dresses look amazing on you.." she complimented.

"They're just not comfortable to wear sometimes. Anyways, when does this show start? And what is that Taemin guy up to? Does he sing?"

She giggled, taking the bottle of whiskey and poured both of your glasses. "He sings, and dances as well. Oh by the way, Jimin's on his way here.."

Your eyes bulged out, "What? You invited him?" she shook her head, downing the glass. "Didn't I say he's friends with Taemin? Of course he'll be here.”

"I know, but he doesn't need to sit here with us, right?"

She rolled her eyes, pushing the glass to you. "He's with Hoseok but he said he wants to see you first. Wait, are you two okay? Seems that you're avoiding him."

"No," you deadpanned. How were you supposed to explain what's been going on with you?

It's Hyerim. With her, there'll be no secrets. She even spilled on about Jimin going into group therapy or whatever.

Which reminded you, that you're eager to find out as well.

Half an hour flew by and Taemin finished with his opening song, a soft rock love song you couldn't hear the lyrics to as Hyerim kept refilling your glasses.

Your vision began to get hazy when Jimin appeared in your booth, and you missed the way he looked at Hyerim before she skipped over to leave you and him alone.

One thing you were never good at when drunk is face recognition. Faces mix up in your head when you take too much alcohol, and though you knew Jimn's face like the back of your hand;

When he sat across from you on the table as Taemin belted out the bridge to his second song for the night, you blinked as harshly as you could.

"You need to stop drinking, Hyerim should stop inviting you to these things.." he scolded you, pulling the glass and the bottle away from you. "You don't even know Taemin. Do you?"

You hated being told what to do, hated being scolded like a little child so you whined amidst the indiscernible expression on his face.

"I'm not a child, Jimin. Don't tell me what to do."

Funny how you remembered it's him talking through the sound of his voice, but his face you couldn't figure. He lowered his gaze, trailing to your lips and stared at it for a few seconds before shaking his head.

"Let's get you out of here, come on," he said, standing up to take you from your seat. You tumbled as you got out of the booth, collapsing onto his chest.

"Can you bring me to your place?" you asked playfully, fluttering your lids when he began dragging you out of the bar, with Hyerim defeatedly watching on the side.

The night felt humid on your skin, sweat trickling down as the effects of whiskey overcame you. Jimin guided you to the parking lot and into his car, wordlessly holding you in support.

When you entered the passenger seat, your eyes caught onto a picture slipping out of the glove compartment and you pulled it out as Jimin stepped into the driver's seat.

You consciously slid it in your purse, deciding to take a look at it when he's not around. "Where are we going?" you inquired, resting your head on the window.

He revved the engine and drove away and your eyes roamed at the crowd gathering outside the bar, hoping to get a glimpse of Taemin and hear his voice.

"You need to sober up.."

"So, at your place then?"

He sighed, nibbling at his bottom lip. "No.. We're going somewhere I want you to see."

"Where is that?"

"It's a surprise.."

Counting the buildings along the road could be dizzying, and as Jimin drove in complete silence, you were getting impatient.

Turning to him, your mouth fell ajar as the first thing you witnessed was him in tears. Eyes brimming in them as he sniffed as silently as he could.

"Why are you.." you stopped, heart drumming loudly in your chest as your breath hitched. "Jimin? What's wrong?"

Stopping at a red light, he wiped his cheeks with his palm while the other gripped on the wheel with his elbow propped on the door.

"There were a lot of other things I haven't told you yet. I really wanted to that night but it's just.." he swallowed thickly, inhaling deeply, "You were so happy, your eyes were too bright. I couldn't just drop it on you like that."

Sobering up was easier for you when Jimin was around. He knew exactly what to do to help you, but you could feel the effects dissipating from your body as you watched him weep.

He's defenseless, broken, and your hands itched to reach out to him and comfort him, let him lean on you like he used to when things got rough.

You wanted to touch him, tell him you'll stay until he's okay, that you believe he will be okay.

But you needed the comfort just as much, especially when he pulled over to the curb after another intersection. He couldn't wait anymore.

Stepping on the brakes, you stumbled forward and gulped - head tilting to examine him yet his face was buried in his hands, seconds away from raking his hair and when he did, you started questioning.

"Is it therapy? I know I don't have any right to ask but Hyerim said you met Taemin in group therapy.. You never said anything about--"

He cut you off, looking in your direction with tears running down his face. "I relapsed, really bad," he croaked, facing the front. "It haunted me every night for half a year when you.."

It's your turn to cry, unstoppable tears welling your eyes and staining your cheeks. They felt warm but nowhere near soothing. All the issues you've locked within were nothing compared to the weight of his words. His truth.

On the night of Hyerim's party, you wondered if the changes in him had anything to do with Yoojin and the damage he brought into your relationship.

Yet as you watched him tear his layers off, giving you access to his deeply rooted flaws and insecurities, every little torn pages of his barely repaired soul;

You realized then losing you was his breaking point. The existing crack ripples into shambles as you shut him out of your life.

It was the aftermath of what you changed when you returned to three years back, lived it for seven days and manipulated the scenes like picking out the bad and replacing them with the ones you thought were good.

In the end, the tables flipped. You were much better, happier, as he said it himself. Meanwhile, he's lesser than the man you pushed away then.

Lesser than the man you once admired with your whole being.

Lesser than the person whom everyone believed as perfect.

It took him more than a decade to build himself, become the perfect son to his parents, one that they can be wholeheartedly proud of.

Nothing was handed to him on a silver platter, every piece of gem was earned through blood, sweat, and tears.

And Jimin worked for all of what he had over the years.

The only one he never had a challenge with was you. You came to him like the sun after a heavy storm, lighting up his world in grey smoke and endless fire.

Everything can be taken away from him, his achievements, his name, they don't mean anything to him as much as they did before.

But you do. You still haunt his dreams on sleepless nights, when his pills are failing him. There's you, everywhere.

He hurt you - picked at you like a scab that itches and annoyed him. There will never be excuses for that gripping truth. And the pain you felt, you easily threw back at him at the party.

Your widest of grin, your laughter that bubbled even his faint and unwarranted happiness. You showered him with glow, sparkles that set the ceasing fire but they stung.

When you got lost in his eyes as he reminded you of your little habits that he imprinted in his mind, you leaned in and kissed him.

And that was it. It was the beginning of the end.

It was then when he realized, he never stopped imagining his future with you.

He never stopped thinking about you on the altar, in front of the eyes of everyone.

Never stopped wanting you to hold his trembling hands, fix his tie as he relished in your encouraging words of 'you can do it, love' and 'you can because i said so.'

Never stopped picturing you clutching on your stomach as you laughed, mouth full of the breakfast he made. Picturing your brightest smile that never failed to pull at his heartstrings each time they showed.

You were sending him away before he realized what he had lost. What he had let go of. Too late to bring it back, too late to bring you back.

"The nightmares returned?" you softly whispered, carefully crafting your words before you say them. "Is that why you haven't spoken to your parents?"

He nodded, expression lost.

You sighed, unable to stop yourself when you extended a hand out and offered it to him. "Hold my hand.."

And he did, grazing his thumb across the skin. There's a smile forming upon your face and you nodded at him. Words weren't needed at that moment. Just you holding him close, as someone who knew where it hurt somehow.

For what felt like an eternity, you and him stayed that way.

Eyes glimmering of hope and perhaps anticipation for another day to perhaps try again.

It was midnight when you and him arrived at the place he said he wanted to show you. The moonlight casted down his face as he stood outside his car, breathing in the crisp air before walking to your side to open the door for you.

A garden on top of the hill, overlooking the bustling city wrapped in sparkling lights like stars spread across the sky. No one was there but the two of you, and you couldn't focus on the intimacy you were sharing with him as your eyes wandered.

His hands were on the railings, and it was like deja vu when he looked pretty much the same as when you were at the balcony two weeks ago.

“This is where Taemin and I met..” Jimin confessed, eyes finding solace in the seemingly endless greenery in front of him. You turned to him, with an earnest smile on your face.

“Group therapy… Was it held here?” you asked, expression unfaltering. He nodded lightly. “The venue changed every session, though most of it was here.”

“Jimin?” you inched sideways to his direction, fumbling through your words before going on. “How has it been since then? Did it help with the nightmares? Has there been progress, at least?”

You were being sincere as you studied him close, hoping for a small crack so you could find anything to ease your worries. Then he lifted his head to meet your gaze, laced with concern.

He smiled just a little - and somehow, it was more than what you could ask for.

“When I heard you finally met up with the lawyer, Kim Taehyung, it was then when the nightmares stopped, and the hurt dwindled a bit. I know it doesn’t make sense but believe me, knowing how you’re doing helped me. Not lessen the guilt and make me feel better about myself, but I figured out that maybe the reason why they started happening again was because when we separated, I couldn’t find it in me to sleep well thinking how everything affected you,” he admitted in one breath, pausing so he could gauge your reaction.

You froze, heartbeat pulling over to a halt, abrupt as the words slipped out of him. He looked straight into your eyes, probably reading the way you took in what he said.

Not a word could escape you, nor did you have any power to respond in such a hurry so you stayed silent, urging him to continue instead.

“In a way, the nightmares came to tell me that even if I only went through them in my sleep, it was you who lived in a kind of nightmare that no pills could stop. You were living a reality in a recurring nightmare - and it crushed my heart just imagining you in pain.”

You deemed his words to be honest and true, you wanted to believe him since you saw him again at the party. You think he knew it well, what you had to live with when he carelessly hurt you and broke your heart.

Jimin came into terms with his fate, that he could no longer bring back time, all of those he spent with you. Who he’d become to you, he accepted it despite the throb in his chest each time he caught a glimpse of your pictures with him in his bedroom.

The pictures looking back at him with the gut wrenching reminder that he could no longer make you happy - the way he used to do before so effortlessly.

Yet whenever the night of the party fogged his mind, when you admitted you still loved him, when you kissed him without a hint of doubt and uncertainty, without judgment and fear..

Somehow, it gave him hope. It offered him an opportunity to maybe take his chance with you again, regardless of whether you’ll let him in or not.

You were at a loss for words, not in the right headspace to pick the pieces and decipher them. What you felt was nothing short of anticipation.

He never said he loved you like you did at the party, and for some inexplicable reason, you wished to hear it from him, with the night sky and the cityscape before you as witnesses.

You didn’t think about what lies beyond that moment with him.

About the possibility of you and him falling apart again.

About the tendency of your heart to burst as it did, and his drifting away, refusing to help gather the pieces with you.

Nothing was welcome within you, but the sound of his footsteps nearing you, hand reaching out for your own as he pulled you against him.

Now face to face with him, you’re entranced with the way you respond to him instantly. Your whole body meeting with him like it’s where yours truly belongs.

Jimin’s eyes into your own, while you gazed up at him, wordlessly giving him what he’s afraid to ask of you. And when you found at least a bit of courage to open your mouth, he caught onto you first.

“If it isn’t too much to ask, if you think I deserve it.. Can we start over? You and I. Not pick up where we left off, just start anew..”

Say it, you ought to tell him. You needed something, anything to assure you. You want to hear him say those words as he really, truly meant it.

But he didn’t, not until after he leaned over, tilting his head to the side and pressed a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips and you were rendered speechless.

“I’m still in love with you… That I am certain now.”

There’s home within the touch of your hands on his chest, feeling his heart pounding against its walls like it’s been waiting so long for its other half.

As though Jimin’s heart split into two, the other half you carried with you since.

You couldn’t make out the pathway you walked on as he guided you towards a small cabin sitting above everything in that garden.

The cobblestones lined along the manmade stairway with a metal railing hidden beneath the ivy that covered it entirely. The trees and bushes were wrapped in yellow hanging lamps, illuminating your skin and bringing them warmth.

Your failure to answer due to the sudden numbing inside you once you heard the words you were dreading, Jimin paid no mind to it.

He realized he didn’t want to hear it in the meantime, wanting to focus on the embers in you that sent him fire when he kissed you. The immediate response of your lips with his own.

The thought of you rejecting him was tossed to the side for the night, as he turned around to face you, behind him was the unlocked door to the back of the cabin.

He remembered how it was always open for anyone to snoop in or stay in to escape the tormenting reality of their lives.

It became a place for him to reflect, to think upon the weight of his past, or the impending disaster of his future - if he were to spend it without you.

He chose not to linger on it when you intertwined your arms around his neck and led the way inside where his back hit the small dining table.

A low groan escaped him as you sat him there, eyes lowering down and up to his lips. You let out a giggle, quiet but enough to drive him insane.

“Is it okay if I can’t give you an answer right now?” you blurted out, expression opposite of the indication of your words. “It’s not something I can decide on immediately..” you explained.

He grinned, forehead touching yours, hands over your waist. “You can take your time. I’ll wait for you..” he assured you, and for a split second, it reminded you of Taehyung.

You swallowed, then shook off the thought of him. You never wanted to admit it to anyone, let alone yourself that one of the reasons why you couldn’t give him a chance was because a part of you still longed for this.

For this man before you, fingers grazing your lips as his eyes bore deep into you under the light peering in from the sky and the so-called witnesses you called.

You hoped to have this chance with him even if it won’t end as you pleased, even if it will only hurt you a lot worse when it’s over and done.

You gave into your utmost desire, shoving away all inhibitions. You let yourself relish in the familiar touch of the man you loved with everything you’ve got.

Getting down the floor to pin you against the counter that was behind you seconds earlier, Jimin worked his way on your jaw, a little trip to your lips then back down to the crook of your neck, leaving trails of wetness from his glistening lips.

His tongue barely nudged but even in its tip running across the skin on your clavicle, you couldn’t stop the moan that sounded in the echoing silence of the empty cabin.

You rolled your eyes back as Jimin pursed his lips and bit on the strap of your thin dress, tugging it down as it fell and his hand slipped in behind you, expertly hooking his fingers on the zipper while bringing his mouth to your neck again, sucking at a spot to leave a mark.

“You can tell me no and I’ll even thank you for it..” he whispered in between harsh attacks on the same spot, teeth grinding on the skin and you winced.

“Why would you do that?” you asked, confused for a second. He grumbled, finishing on the mark you’re sure to bruise in the morning before pulling away to admire his work. “I know I’ll never beat him..”

The way Jimin said it so casually stirred something in you. This side to him seemed to have never changed. His tone and demeanor when you’re in his grip, under his dominance.

You scoffed at his statement, as if it’s mocking you when he knew there’s a huge chance he’ll win over Taehyung. You’re never sure if he meant it, not until your dress was halfway down, on your stomach as he nibbled at his lip.

“You deserve someone like him, Y/N,” he blubbered, tears pooling around his eyes as he tried his best to focus on giving you what he missed on showing you then. You’re oblivious to his silent whimpers, swallowing the lump in his throat. “If you end up deciding I’m undeserving of a chance to be with you, at least let me know if you feel the same. If after three years, you still yearn for me as much as I did with you.”

He was struggling to speak through the lack of air, and you felt him gasp, making you pull back in worry. Cupping his cheeks, you rubbed them gently, feeling the tears streaming down.

“You can’t love two people at the same time, Jimin. You know that. It’s why I find it hard to believe you still feel it, even if it’s what I wanted to hear. I could never compare to her, you know that..” you sighed, choking out the words as hot tears started to blur your vision.

“That’s - not true..” he cried, burying his head into your shoulder. You were exposed and shivering at the cold midnight breeze but his breath spread warmth throughout your body.

“So, why? Why did you…” you heaved, hands moving to rest on his clothed chest, in hopes to feel the beating of his heart. He pulled away to look at you, “You were never sure with me.. That’s what you told your mom, wasn’t it?”

You frowned at that. His tone changed into disbelieving, as if he was blaming you for his sin. But then.. “On our third anniversary.. I wanted to propose, I was sure of it. It was when you said you were going to give your father a chance, maybe then I thought I could ask his permission, and your mother…”

His head turned to your jacket where you sneaked in the picture you caught from inside his car, deciding to ask him instead but you failed to see what it was.

Taking the picture in between his fingers, colors drained from your face, but he licked his lips before handing it to you.

There, as the dull light source passing through the window brought clarity to your hazy vision and the picture, your heart dropped to your stomach.

It’s a picture of you across him on the table, drunk from the wine you had for the anniversary date. His gift to you laid in front of you, but a small box with a ring settled where your right hand was.

Yet you were crying as the alcohol coursed through you, incessantly telling him you were meeting with your father to talk while hating on him for wanting a child with his girlfriend then as if he didn’t abandon you.

The same night Jimin called your mother about his decision, even bringing the beautiful, diamond ring to her for her opinion. Your mother was a sobbing mess then, nodding hard before he could even say a word.

“Make my daughter the happiest. I know you will, Jimin,” her exact words were.

He was looking forward to your date night, practicing his lines in his car while you dressed up. Everything was in place until the hatred you founded on your father arose to the surface, and as you put on your earrings with your heart weighing a ton;

Your father’s message on your laptop screen taunting you. It made you despise everything in him and how your mother devoted her world to a man like that.

Calling her to make a mess in your makeup, you told her, “He makes me think like I don’t want to settle down with anyone, I hate him so much, mom. And you should too.”

You didn’t hear her sobs, hearing those words from you when your boyfriend was about to ask you to marry him. She asked you, willing to help you change your mind in case.

“Don’t you want to marry Jimin someday? Your life is different from mine, Y/N. You can’t keep comparing your father to him or think everyone is as horrible as him..”

And you replied, void of any reluctance and doubt. “I was never sure of him, Mom. I don’t think he’s going to be any different from him.. I just don’t fucking know. Maybe when the time comes I can figure out whether I’m wrong or not.”

The date night went smoothly, yet Jimin couldn’t bring himself to do it, not when your mother asked him to postpone it as you’re going through a rough time.

Amidst her pleading and crying, she let it slip that you said you weren’t sure of him, at least not yet. And if it wasn’t enough to break him, then how your relationship had turned after that was more than what he could imagine.

“I don’t blame you for what I did. I never did. But it stuck to me, you know? How despite your sweetness, your kindness, all the things you did for me, for us.. I couldn’t push that thought away. I kept thinking about how long it would take for you to feel it. To be sure of me. To want me to prove it to you that I’m not your father. That I’m not capable of hurting you the way he did to you and your mother…”

You couldn’t face him, choosing to hide your face underneath your palms as you covered them. Your body numb to everything and the only thing you could feel was that you were becoming breathless.

“But in the end, I did turn out like him.. Right?” he concluded, bitter chuckle bouncing off the walls. “Turns out, you were right…”

“Jimin.. Please.. I don’t want this.. I want you..”

It’s the truth, yet it’s also an excuse for you to run from the things he’s throwing your way. It was when it’s beginning to sink into you do you realize how it’s partly your fault too.

Not the fact that he cheated on you, but the truth you kept within for all the years with him.

You never saw a future with him - maybe at one point you did, though it was just an afterthought. Something that faded as soon as you were faced with your own fears.

You believed he only loved you for three years, counting the third year as the last before you convinced yourself he was gone in the next. That Yoojin won over you, like how you thought you were nothing but a placeholder for Jimin.

It’s no excuse for the real cause to your downfall with him, but how he found an ounce of assurance in her - the slightest of a chance that perhaps, a part of her was sure of him;

It was like you were being torn apart, the sounds of Jimin’s uneven breathing muffling every thump of your heart and the tick of the clock that was telling you that your time was coming to an end.

That the loop happened not to help you ease your pain, but to slap you hard with the truth, the damage you failed to acknowledge as your own doing, other than Jimin’s unforgiving sin.

“I want you to forget about it, just for tonight.. Will you?”

You were relieved as Jimin snapped you away from drowning in your guilt kicking in the pit of your stomach with a stroke of his thumb on your cheek.

You don’t know why you still agreed, but you did.

“I can’t, but I’ll try… I don’t know what to do. I - I’m sorry..” you barely managed.

He shushed you with a kiss, mumbling before lifting you up and carried you bridal style to the bedroom you forgot the cabin had when you entered.

Laying you on the bed on your back, he hovered above you as he stripped himself off of his shirt and stopped when his hand traveled down the belt buckle.

“I’ll help you forget.. If you let me..”

You nodded, albeit the heat rising on your skin that you’re trying to suppress. “Please,” you begged, coming out as a whimper.

“I’m sorry, Jimin..” you added when he leaned in to swipe his lips across your chin towards your neck, to the mark he left you earlier. He groaned, “Stop that.. Save it for when you actually did something wrong to need it.”

“You don’t understand,” you muttered in between ragged sighs, hand sliding from his bare chest to his back, down to the leather of his belt still attached on his jeans.

“I do..” he corrected you, fanning your neck with his breath. “But now let’s just pretend as if it’s that night, our first date. You still remember that, right?”

He’s trying to lessen the tension, willing it away with his playful attempt to tease but it only urges you to fall into tears again.

“Y/N…” he called you, voice soft as the touch of his hand on your thigh. “Look at me..”

You blinked the tears away, pushing them onto the pillow underneath you. Jimin looked ethereal in that moment, face ridded of exhaustion and brokenness. It almost reminded you of the first night you met him.

The first date Namjoon set up for you and him was more than a decade ago.

As if it’s happening again.

“This is what would have happened if you asked me to come inside your apartment that night.. What I was supposed to do, if you allowed me then.”

His sentence was sealed with another kiss, then another, and another until he’s showering you with kisses all over your face.

“You changed my whole life, Y/N.. I hope you remember that even after we part tomorrow, and in the coming days. I don’t want to be just a sad memory to you, someone unimportant.”

You nodded with all your heart, tears continued to flow as his kisses went sloppier and heavier. When his own eyes betrayed him for the third time tonight.

Both of your tears melding as your lips did, and the irreparable wound you shared with him tucked away with the movement of his body, following a rhythm only you can catch up to.

When every piece of clothing was out of you and him, now tossed everywhere on the floor catching dirt you paid no attention to;

You let your own body move for you, its desire pervading your rational senses but you couldn’t care less. Jimin positioned himself in the middle, your trembling thighs awaiting contact on either side.

The run of his hands and lips extend to all the parts they could reach, before he’s anticipating your approval with him at the entrance.

“Can I?” and you quickly nodded, earning a dazed smile from him. “You always have me..” you said, meaning every word as you lift yourself upward to kiss him softly as his length surged forward into your core.

Each thrust was paired with a kiss on every part his lips could touch, the way he glided into you felt as though there’s a permanent space for him in there.

His pace changed as you relaxed underneath his weight, hand guiding your hip, his other on your thigh. Your expression is enough to invigorate him, making him rut harder than the last one and you’re digging your nails onto his back.

“I - I missed this,” you said breathlessly, sending shivers down his spine as he tightened his grip on your hip, uncaring if it would leave an imprint.

He grinned, eyes into crescents, “I missed you too..” he breathed out, catching you off-guard.

And soon, you felt your own release coming, as his fingers moved from your thigh to your nub, while your walls clenched onto nothing inside when he pulled out for a second, only to ram inside again, his pace going rougher.

Your head was spinning, legs giving out as the heat burned you within and then you were chasing your release that washed over you while you trembled.

Jimin continued to thrust inside until you rode out your orgasm, and seconds later, he was clutching onto you and groaning out loud, hissing as he reached his own high, painting your walls white all the while sputtering curses after your name rushing out of his mouth.

Collapsing on your shoulder, he chuckled lightly, and you ran your fingers through his hair before he pulled out completely.

He laid beside you, sliding his arm over your neck and let you rest on his chest as he heaved a long sigh. Your hand firm and unmoving on his stomach, your voice strained as you spoke.

“Jimin?”

He hummed, eyes on the empty ceiling. You parted your mouth, fears taking over you again but you fight it for now. There’s urgency in your movement, and Jimin quivered, but waited anyway.

“What did you tell Yoojin that morning? When we… broke up? When she called?”

You bit your lip, discomfort in the way you fidgeted as your hand was on his bare abdomen now.

He moved away, only to face you as he turned to his side and looked at you.

“Oh,” he sighed, you added, “Be honest with me..” he nodded, “I called it quits with her. She sent me texts about how she was convincing me that I didn’t love you anymore.. All that lies. So when she called, I said I’m never going to see her again.”

You creased your brows, he caressed your cheek, gesturing you to look him in the eye. You did, and your heart swelled at his next words.

“I told her I was going to propose to you again, and nothing she’ll say would ever change my mind. But then she said she was pregnant, and I guess, it wasn’t really going to be me in that position in your life. So I just lived with it - even if it killed me over and over, like I was in an endless time loop, reliving all my mistakes and lost chances while you move on with your life..”

An endless time loop, reliving mistakes and lost chances.

You huffed, bitterness in your tone as your insides stung, “Funny how life works sometimes..” and Jimin found himself agreeing though he didn’t say anything.

It really is funny, he thought.

[previous] [next]

#bts fanfic #bts jimin #jimin x reader #park jimin #jimin smut #jimin angst #park jimin angst #park jimin smut #jimin fanfic #jimin imagine #cheating au #exes au #time loop #butterfly effect #park jimin fanfic

135 notes · View notes

pinencurls · 4 years

Text

“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

Hiii so this is my entry to @stellarboystyles‘s three year anniversary fic challenge! I’ve been busy with getting ready for classes starting and balancing other stuff so I wrote it on and off for a week and a bit but I hope you all enjoy! Feedback is so so encouraged and appreciated <3

Here’s my masterlist of some other stuff I’ve written x

Enemies (more like friends but oops) to lovers, prompt 9 “I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

14k+ :) Not read through sorry! pls let me know of any mistakes and I’ll correct them <3 (also i k n o w the title's bad but i couldn’t think of anything, pls feel free to leave any recs.)

- - - -

It isn’t that I hate Harry. He just makes me feel...insecure. He’s never said or done anything directly but it’s hard to feel good about yourself when all your closest confidants seem to compare you to somebody else, somebody they so clearly hold higher above you. There wasn’t a single day I could meet a mutual friend of mine and Harry’s and not have them sing his praises, and apparently everyone was a mutual friend. I’ve known Julia and Theo for years, we all met in uni when they first started going out but it wasn’t until a year ago that I somehow ended up finding myself a regular within the friendship group they’d formed when they both went into the music and fashion industries. They had ties everywhere and after a pure coincidence of running into them and their circle at a pub, almost all my weekends were spent in various art galleries or new restaurants owned by somebody’s cousin or the guy they met last night at a Fleetwood Mac concert.

I’d met Harry about five months into hanging out with the group. He’d known them a lot longer than I had, weaving his way into the little pockets of interesting people for years since the x factor. I was busy with work the first few times he was in town but after a while, Nick, the persistent party planner of the group who always managed to wrangle us together, insisted that I just had to meet him. . . . . .

Eleanor’s house is huge and buzzing with hundreds of strangers. I cling to Julia and Theo’s side, Nick and Eleanor are nowhere in sight - most likely playing host or drinking too much chardonnay in another corner of the house. These four are the only people I can say I really know here, sure there are a few familiar faces on the dance floor, either from having met them at any of Eleanor's past elaborate parties or just because of they’re not so subtle fame. That’s another thing, all the people sipping wine and dancing around me are fairly...well known. Either just within the industry or to the general public too, they’d all gain fairly high status. It was a fluke really that I got on so well with Julia when we first met on a fashion course in uni.

Julia had big goals, all of which she was on track to fulfil, that conflicted slightly with mine. Her goals consisted of runway show models clad in designer brands she might one day contribute to whereas mine were more...anti, that whole world. It took a few years to find a steady footing but eventually, I was proud of where I’d ended up: a comfortable little cubby in the fashion and sustainability columns of a handful of independent magazines. After a few nights out with Julia, I was pleasantly surprised to find her shared interests and solidarity in my work and ambitions of her own within the same ideology. But whilst that’s all well and good, I’m still very much the small indie journalist that slips through the cracks when it comes to small talk at these kinds of events. It became apparent pretty quickly that my latest articles on how fast fashion had begun its destruction of a liveable environment in developing countries weren’t as relevant or interesting to the people promoting Prada and Calvin Klein as the next met gala theme.

“Do you want another drink?” Theo asks from beside me, pulling my focus from my scan of the room.

“No thanks..I’m good.” I murmur, debating how long I have to stay before I can slip out and feel a little less awkward around all the people I have no clue how to talk to. “Think I’m gonna head off actually..”

“Look I know you hate networking, but this is just a chill get-together yeah?” Theo chuckles, squeezing my shoulder before taking another sip from his gin and tonic. “We’re in the same boat about these snooty things but tonight’s not like that, relax a bit will ya.”

Theo works mostly with small-time music artists, producing debut albums and such so we share the same deep discomfort for the many events we often find ourselves at. It’s how we got close really, week after week we’d trail behind Julia as she strikes up conversations with Hollywood elite...and he always makes getting piss drunk in someone’s pool house exceptionally fun.

Before I can further any excuses about getting home to start on the legitimate and ever-growing pile of work deadlines on my desk, a tall man in far too much Gucci to belong anywhere but in a room full of models and artists makes a beeline straight from the bar to our awkward party.

“Harry!” Theo shouts, embracing the slightly tipsy man in a hug he reciprocates.

“It’s been too long mate, how ‘ave you been?” Harry cheers, leaning back from the hug and grinning down at his friend.

“I’ve been good - busy, enjoying the free bar as always.” Theo jokes, motioning between his and my matching G and T’s. Harry’s eyes wander up from the drink, realisation dawning on his face as he smiles again.

“Ah and you must be the famous Olivia,” He reaches his hand out to mine and shakes it lightly. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, ‘m Harry, it’s good to finally meet you, love.”

“Likewise.” I smile, trying to suppress the blush his words of endearment tease. I can’t deny the natural charm and charisma everyone always talks about now that it’s hitting me straight on. There’s something about the way he doesn’t hesitate to hold eye contact just that little bit longer that makes the room go still for just a second. He’d got it down to a T.

“Aww I see you two have finally met!” Nick interrupts. My hand falls from Harry’s grip as he’s welcomed into another hug. “About fucking time as well, been trying get this one to take a night off for weeks!”

“I literally came out with you last Thursday!” I counter, not missing the smirk setting on Harry’s face as he watches Nick and I’s back and forth. “And the Saturday before, come to think of it I’m always out with you Nicky.”

“Not when Harry’s in town though n’ that’s a different kinda night.” Nick laughs, his beer sloshing slightly in his free hand as his other remains draped over Harry’s shoulders.

That was maybe the first sign of my slight resentment for Harry. All night I wandered around with Theo hearing little bits of conversations, all surrounding the star of the party. I understood this wasn’t his doing, his humility was clear in every one of his bashful attempts to turn the conversation away from his growing achievements and onto literally anything else. He was, however, a self-proclaimed narcissist. Every time somebody would swoon over him and insist he stay the topic of conversation, a smirk tugged at his lips and stayed there as he consumed the endless and animated praise from almost all the party guests.

I’d expected some of his qualities to be untrue, learning from the past never to believe blindly of someone’s pure character when you didn’t truly know them. Especially when they frequented the gossip columns. But it wasn’t him so much, he was true to his motto of kindness and courteous even as people fawned over him, it was more the attention that surrounded him. As the night went on it became clear what Nick meant even if he didn’t know it himself. A night out with Harry was different because everyone made sure to capitalize off how different he made them feel.

. . . . .

“Can I get you anything else M’am?” The young waitress asks as she clears up my empty mug and saucer. My eyes falter a little as they adjust from the blue light of my laptop I’ve been staring at for the last twenty minutes.

“Um- oh please could I just get a refill?” I ask.

“Sure thing - mint tea right?” She smiles, adjusting the mug in her hands to make a quick note.

“Yeah..s’perfect - thank you.” She’s gone before she hears my delayed gratitudes, definitely used to the throngs of bemused writers tapping away at their laptops for hours.

I turn back to my open google doc. So far it’s written in two parts I have no idea how to connect and my senseless rereading hasn’t resulted in any legitimate progress in almost an hour. I’d accept the rut I’m stuck in and work on something else for the day if I didn’t only have the day. Last night had been filled with plans of settling in early and finishing the last two thousand words on an upcoming sustainable clothing brand. That all went out the window of course as my phone buzzed off the kitchen counter with Nick’s insistence of yet another night out to celebrate ending the work week - his was quite different to mine. It was easy to ignore the persistent beeping of my phone as new texts and call notifications popped up every three minutes, but less so when the rhythmic bursts of noise were replaced by knocks on my front door.

Within 40 minutes of opening it to Nick in a silk shirt and jeans too skinny for someone pushing thirty, I was two drinks in and dancing to Blue DeTiger with a pair of hands on my waist that I didn’t entirely recognise. It was just the six of us: Me, Nick, Ellie, Theo, Julia and Harry.

He was hard to ignore, not that I was trying particularly hard. On the drive over, the limited backseat space in Nick’s car and close proximity had practically forced me into his lap. Even with thighs pressed tightly against each other, we hardly talked, a few polite hellos here and there and then silence as we listened to Eleanor recall her latest night with whichever blonde bassist was her ‘soulmate’ that week. The whole ride over, Harry kept his hands on the thigh closest to the door and leant his shoulders the same way as to touch me as little as possible - which was still quite a lot considering the packed five seater pushing seven passengers. It was fairly common knowledge we weren’t close and I got the feeling he wasn’t too keen on me, but he could at least not act like touching me would be the worst thing ever.

As the night went on he clung to Theo, ever the cuddly drunk, and I stayed more to the pleasant stranger I’d found on the dance floor.

No meanest was ever intended between us but I couldn’t help but watch the kindergarten like bitterness grow as everyone just loved him. We couldn’t go anywhere without a crying fan or two approaching the sweet and smiling man who always answered their questions affectionately and hugged them goodbye. The times he was out of town were always filled with comments about his absence, as if none of us were good enough without his added presence. I couldn’t help but wonder why they even bothered to bring me into their little group. The lack of closeness between Harry and I felt almost like a lack of closeness to the group as a whole, despite how much my individual friendships with everyone advanced.

Just as I thank the waitress - Alice, her name tag read, and take the first sip of my third tea (I had to switch after a particularly strong starter coffee) I notice a familiar man out the corner of my eye looking just as rough as me. Of course he’s wearing it better than I am.

Harry collects a drink from the counter and bows his head slightly in thanks, turning and catching my eye just as he’s on his way out. He waves with his free hand and shoots me a candid smile before making a quick change in direction towards my small table.

“Long time no see,” He pulls the chair opposite me out a little as he chuckles at his own joke. He perches lightly, temporarily. “How’ve you been?”

“A little hungover, I won’t lie..” I laugh, surprised by the whole encounter. “You?”

“Same, I might have had a shot or two too many,” I nod knowingly and shut my laptop softly. He sips what smells like coffee before going on. “Are ya workin? Sorry to interrupt.”

“Oh no- I mean I am but it doesn’t matter really, ‘ve kinda hit a dead end.” His eyes hover, waiting for me to go on. “I was gonna get it done last night but Nick had other plans..”

“Yeah Nick’ll do that to you,” He laughs, “What’re you writing ‘bout?”

He leans slightly forwards, holding eye contact and shuffling comfortably into his chair.

“Oh just this promotional piece on a new company, they’re hiring young women and training them to make these handmade clothes. They’re paying them above minimum wage and focusing on sustainability so this editor I’ve written for before offered me it.” I’m not really sure how sincere he is in his curiosity, he always seems to have time to listen when Julia has a new design plan or Theo’s found a new artist but that’s different really. I stop before I start to ramble, just in case.

“That’s so cool, what kinda stuff are they making?” He prompts, resting his chin on his fist, imitating the posture of an eager little kid.

“They've started stocking stuff by other independent artists but mostly dungarees and these cool cord trousers, they’d suit you actually, even got some 70s style ones.” Now that the two worlds are colliding in my head, I can’t help but imagine Harry in a pair of their forest green cords, the wide legs would almost bury his vans but a part of me is pretty sure he’d love them.

“Thanks, if they come at your recommendation I might have to get my hands on a pair,” He smiles, his tone’s a lot different to the usual polite cheer, it’s difficult to place where it’s landed before he’s talking again. “Reminds me of that show you took us to with the upcycled clothes, all those dungarees made of old quilts - remember?”

It’d been a small exhibit just outside of London I’d mentioned offhandedly and somehow ended up showing everyone around. It was nice to have them all in my world for an evening. Marcus, a friend of mine from college, had put it together and created a lot of the pieces. He and the others I’d met through my work were fairly shocked to say the least when Harry Styles came traipsing through the doors behind me. All night he quietly asked Nick questions, to which Nick only responded by motioning towards me and wandering off to the bar.

“I do - I’m surprised you do to be honest.” It slips before I can decide if it sounds passive aggressive or not. To be fair, it had been a surprise to me, meeting everyone at the train station and watching Harry and Nick scramble out a taxi and run towards us. He’d been dressed in proper gallery attire and seemed genuinely thrilled to be joining in on the rare night I actually played host.

“Course I do, it was a good night...I’d choose it over Nick’s tequila Tuesdays anyday.” His phone buzzes on the table, a text popping up in green. “Oh I- my manager’s waiting sorry.”

A sheepish smile is accompanied by a loose arm movement towards the door where, out on the street, I see Jeff. He’s shaking his head and motioning for Harry to hurry up. Had Harry sat down to talk to me whilst his manager had been waiting this whole time?

“It was good running into you, good luck with it all,” He stands. “See you friday yeah?”

I’d totally forgotten about his “Whenever I’m in town Friday film night.” until he mentioned it. I’d been twice in the past and stayed quietly to my corner of the sofa, only watching as everyone else laughed at whatever romcom had been chosen that night.

“I-maybe.” He shakes his head as I smile, not quite ready to commit a whole evening to watching Nick raid Harry’s wine cellar.

“You better, I’m gonna need to hear more ‘bout those cords.” He points his hand in a kind of joking reprimand/wave before he’s gone back down the aisle of tables to the door where Jeff ruffles a hand through his hair and laughs when his hands fly to fix the now birdnest of brown curls.

I open my laptop back up, skimming over the last few lines I wrote to get myself back on track. I take a sip and my tea’s gone cold.

. . . . .

“Are you coming to Harry’s tonight?” Eleanor asks down the phone, her voice chipper as she no doubt raids her closet.

“Maybe, I don’t know..I’ve got this deadline Monday morning that I’m nowhere near meeting.”

“Come on Liv, we haven’t seen you all properly together since last month, and last week doesn’t count it was too loud to actually talk!” She chimes in, the sound of clothes being tossed to the floor clear in the distant background. “Have you got a problem with Harry or something?”

“No Elle, of course I don’t-”

“Then why do you guys never talk? You hardly come with us when he’s around and when you do you barely even say hello.” Eleanor complains, she’s mentioned it in the past but it’s been easy to blow off with excuses of how busy he usually was making his way around the room to greet everyone or how we just hadn’t known each other that long and weren't particularly close yet.

“I just...I don’t know, I don’t think he likes me very much.” I pause. I still haven't decided what last Saturday was in the cafe. “We’re not really close and I’d prefer not to spend another night listening to people tell him - and everyone else - how great he is.”

“You’re saying that like he’s some arrogant twit, if you came out with us more you’d see what he’s really like around his friends. Or you know, you could actually talk to him when we’re together and see that he’s not a dick?”

It was a fair point. I haven’t made much of an effort over the past year to spend any time with him outside of larger gatherings or to have genuine conversations with him that went past the weather or a new jacket one of us had on. Maybe he really is a good guy away from all the pretentious crowds and watchful eyes he usually called to our group. He’d certainly seemed different in the quiet Saturday surroundings of Blondies Coffee Roasters in between sips of coffee.

“Okay, okay yeah I’ll see you there.” We hang up a couple of minutes later and I’m left alone in my kitchen again.

. . . . .

“Hey!” Harry cheers as the door swings open to reveal him in yet another pair of flared pants that hung comfortably around his waist. “Come in, come in.”

We all pile in through the doorway as he steps aside. Arms weaving through each other as we hang coats and jackets and Julia passes Harry the fruit platter she’d made (and scolded us all for picking at on the drive over.)

“Oh very appropriate,” Harry laughs as he uncovers the tray to reveal an array of sliced watermelon, strawberries and grapes, He sets the fruit down on the table in the lounge for us all to eat and shakes his head lightly. I look up at Julia for an explanation but she’s too busy claiming the comfiest loveseat for the night. “I’m never telling you anything again, Jules.”

Julia and Harry tease each other for a moment more until Theo catches my confused stares and laughs to himself.

“Harry wrote a song ‘bout fruit- another one actually,” Theo starts, tucking himself beside Julia and letting her take over before he can finish. “S’not just about fruit though is it H?”

Harry blushes slightly and settles his glare on Julia as he carries six wine glasses through to the table.

“‘S about watermelon, it just has some..” He clears his throat as he fumbles for his next sentence. “Other themes to it too.”

“As if mate,” Theo’s laughter booms, “ Basically Liv, he wrote this new song the other day all about how much he loves to-”

“Watermelon!” Harry yells, pointing an accusatory finger at Theo. “S’all about how much I love watermelons...I’m a fruit guy.”

“Oh are we talking about the pussy song?”

All heads snap round to see Nick, obviously having let himself in and now chuckling softly to himself as he leans against the archway into the room.

“Oh sorry H, were you tryna give an interview answer?”

Harry just slaps his palm over his eyes and lets his shoulders shake for a minute before he bounces back to host mode.

“Okay!” I can’t help but notice how flushed the tips of his ears are as he claps his hands together, desperately trying to move on from the conversation. “Who wants wine?”

Fifteen minutes later everyone is settled onto the sofas with an array of throws between us and a layout of fruits, crisps and other mid rom com snacks that make me feel bad I left my flat in too much of a hurry to remember anything but hummus.

“Okay - Sixteen Candles, When Harry Met Sally or Mamma Mia?” Nick calls out, waving the tv remote above his head to get everyone's attention. An outpour of votes follows - you’d think between only six of us we’d be able to sort out a process by now but still we fall into momentary anarchy as the room divides.

“Mamma Mia is a classic!” Eleanor protests as Nick’s shaking his head.

“And Billy Crystal isn’t?” He yells back, eyes wide and genuinely offended.

“Colin Firth is arguably more iconic, Nick really, come on.” Theo sighs. He accepts the high fives Ellie and I reach out to him and saluts us both.

“We’ve all seen Mamma Mia before though, we’ve never watched When Harry Met Sally all together,” Julia points out, winning a smirk and nod of approval from Nick.

There’s a beat of silence while Nick weighs up the votes in his head. He tilts to the side slightly and eyes Harry up, our gazes following.

“Harry?”

“Ellie?”

“Come on, you’ve got the last vote here, and I know how much you like Meryl.” Nick gasps a little, the mention of Meryl Streep as a wager to win Harry over to his opposing team was definitely foul play in his eyes.

“Yeah but he loves When Harry Met Sally...and he is a narcissist..” Julia offers into the debate, a few snickers follow her comment before we all turn to look at Harry. We’re all already half a glass in but I could swear for just a moment his eyes lingered over me, fluttering down to my smile before turning back to announce his decision to Nick.

“I’m afraid I am in the mood for a bit of Abba,” Cheers and not so subtle murmurs of frustration fill the lounge as Nick scrolls through the Romance bar on Netflix before clicking on the film of just over half of our choosing.

Everyone goes quiet as the film starts, breaking out into bursts of song only as the cast does. From the conversation in the car, it’s pretty clear everyone has just been through a pretty tiring week. We all tended to pile our workload a little heavy so it was always nice to escape for a few hours at the weekend and relax together.

Just as Voulez-vous plays through the room, a slightly tipsy Nick leans into Harry to serenade the singer with his own rendition. The duo sway slightly, both narrowly avoiding Nick’s wild limbs before there’s a crash and Harry’s cursing.

“Oh- H, Sorry!”

Nick’s wine glass that’d been balanced on the coffee table in front of him moments before now lays on its side. The, luckily white, wine trickles down onto the rug but most noticeably splashes into Harry’s lap. I’m not entirely sure how he managed it, it must have flown forwards when it was knocked but Harry quickly stands to access the damage.

“I’m so sorry Harry I-”

“Don’t worry mate, I’m just gonna go change and toss these in the wash..could you wipe that up for me?” Nick nods, looking a little less cheerful and a lot more guilty now as Harry makes it way out the room. He calls behind him: “Keep watching I’ll only be a second!”

Nick finishes wiping down the table and rug just as Harry jogs back into the room. I don’t mean to and I’m never one to check people out..unless very subtly, but I can’t help but let my eyes linger a little.

He’s still in his plain tee but instead of his fancy pants he’s found some soft wash denim jeans. The whole look paired with his thick rimmed glasses and how his hair's gotten tousled about by Nick throughout the night just made him look so...ordinary. Not in any bad way, anyone who met Harry knew he could never be ordinary, no matter how casual he dressed, but something about seeing him abandon the more dressed up looks and go for the comfortable option just made him seem different.

In a second his green eyes are complimenting the look too as he gazes down at me.

“Hi,” He mouths, nobody’s taken much notice of his return, yet another musical number taking everyone’s attention. It’s my turn to blush a little now. I avert my eyes quickly, anywhere really, before sneaking a quick look up at him to smile back.

Ellie had helped Nick in the “For fucksake save Harry’s rug it probably costs more than your car” mission and had stolen the seat beside him after they were done. It slipped my mind until Harry set the new bottle of wine on the table and sunk down into the space beside me, He curls one leg underneath him and slips me one more smile before turning back to the screen just as Donna and Sam start singing SOS.

. . . . .

“Ah shit, I think I left my book!” I curse just as we make it down the road to Julia’s car. Parking was shit so by the time we found a spot we’d ended up a good 15 minutes away from Harry’s house. “You guys go on, I’m only round the corner anyway.”

Theo and Julia were familiar with my stubbornness so let me go, yelling their goodbyes after a few hugs as they drove away, Ellie and Nick do the same as they clamber into a taxi. I turn quickly in the chilly air and make my way back down the street to Harry’s drive, punching in the familiar code at his gate before running up to the door hastily.

It was open - as always, so I let myself in. He was probably still cleaning the lounge up after we all got a little too tipsy.

“Hey it’s me...just left my book sorry!” I call down the hallway. It’s quiet despite the light Paul Simon playing in the distance so I make my way quickly to the sofas I’d spent most of the night on, praying to avoid an awkward run-in with Harry.

Although we’d actually shared some light conversation throughout the night and a handful of smiles, I’m not sure we’re quite at the stage in our friendship that me more or less breaking into his house wouldn’t be awkward to run into.

The lounge is empty when I get there. The side tables are still littered with wine glasses and tacky red rings on coasters but no Harry in sight. Or book for that matter.

I start pulling back the cushions carefully - god knows how much they cost. Despite scouring the one spot I’d pretty much clung to the whole night - incidentally beside Harry - I have no luck. Nick tossed the book back to me at some point in the night after reading it by my recommendation but knowing him it could have ended up anyway. I follow the breadcrumbs of our night down another hallway as I vaguely remember Nick talking about a certain plot twist as we searched Harry’s kitchen cupboards for the wine he’d sent us off to restock.

As I come around the white archway into his kitchen I catch a glimpse of him from around the kitchen island. He has his back turned to me but he’s leant forwards against a counter with ring covered fingers clutching the edge, a glass of amber liquid set slightly away from him.

“Oh, sorry I was just-” He jumps a little at my voice, turning quickly to face me with his now free hands coming up to hold his chest. When his eyes finally meet mine they’re red and it takes a second for him to register the tears still streaming from them before he replies.

“Shit, fu- what are you..are you alright?” His hands bat between tangling into his hair and wiping the tears from his cheeks, anything to avoid actually looking up at me again.

“Yeah, I just..um..left my book,” I mumble, taking a step closer to him when I notice how his hands shake as they move timidly around his face. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Uuuh um.” He wanders for a moment before slapping a palm lightly atop the counter and pulling out his infamous grin. “Nothing much, how bout you - find your book?”

“-Harry..” I take another step close, “I know we’re not, ya know..close. But you can talk to me.”

There’s a beat of silence when he keeps up the act, I’d almost believe it if it wasn’t for his bloodshot eyes and anxious fingers drumming against the tile.

“What’s wrong?”

He pauses for a moment, assessing whether or not to tell me whatever’s weighing so heavy on his shoulders. But the dam bursts.

“Fuckin’ everything Love” He laughs, rubbing his palms over his face. I try to focus on the matter at hand: Harry weeping in his kitchen. But that name’s only ever left his mouth directed at me a handful of times and it’s never made my stomach flutter quite as it did just now. “Just..Fuck I’m so lonely Olivia.”

I don’t really know any of the details but between conversation - mostly overheard, and the media frenzy, it was hard not to be aware of Harry’s break up two months ago. I can’t claim we were close enough to discuss it, having hardly ever talked beyond trivial issues, but I knew that despite them only being together two or so months, he’d been incredibly distant for the weeks that followed the break up.

“I hear about you and Aubre..I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for you guys-” Harry laughs almost, a pained sort of chuckle that told me I was way off with this one.

“It’s not..that isn’t why I..” He takes a deep breath before lifting his head up slightly to focus on where his fingers still tapped out a nervous beat on the counter. “I was lonely before her...and with her. I just, I can’t seem to get it right ever...feels like nobody wants to be with me for the right reasons.”

“Hey no..what about tonight? Your house was full of so many people who love you yeah? Maybe your bougie wine collection had something to do with it but still,” He laughs at that, peeking up from behind his fringe for just a moment. “They- we love you ‘k?”

“I know but, ‘clock hits the am and everyone leaves, it just gets...it gets so fucking lonely to see everyone in perfect pairs ya know?”

I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m doing it - my arms wrap over his shoulders and lock with a hand at the nape of his neck. We’ve never hugged before beyond a general greeting but anyone watching wouldn’t know it, his face burrows quickly into my shoulder and his arms cocoon over my waist, holding me tightly and slipping under the thick layers of my jacket.

“I know exactly what you mean, H.”

The hug lasts longer than I imagined it might. He smells of vanilla and the coffee he brought back in bulk from Jamaica. He lets out a shaky breath and melts further into me, nuzzling my neck softly with the tip of his nose. His curls are soft between my fingers and I find myself shhing him, lulling us both into a tired kind of calm.

Another moment passes in the silence of his kitchen before Harry lets out an awkward cough and straightens up, pulling out of our hold and immediately covering his face with his palms again.

“I..sorry Jules and Theo must be waiting for you..” Harry murmured, wiping the last of his tears away and letting his hands fall and fidget by his sides.

“Oh no don’t worry they..um they already went I was actually just gonna walk.” I tell him, making his head perk up a bit.

“Wha-It’s past twelve Liv it’s not safe, how far do you even live?” He clears his throat and his voice is clearer now, it feels like a whole different world to the one we were in just a minute ago.

“It’s fine honestly, only take like thirty minutes walking - I’ve done it before-” I ramble, eager to put this situation behind me before I embarrass myself anymore.

“No - let me drive you yeah?” Harry shakes his head, adamant.

“Harry..we’ve been drinking all night, I think that’s more dangerous than me jus’ walking.” I laugh, holding his gaze for a second longer than I usually would - fuck, how do we usually act around each other?

Before I come to a conclusion, his eyes rest heavy on mine and I can see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to work his way out of this one. Ever the people pleaser.

“Then stay.”

“Harry-”

“You said you know how it feels.” He cuts in, unwavering now as he doesn’t let my eyes fall from his. “So stay …’s safer anyway.”

. . . . .

“I can take the sofa, really Harry I don’t mind,” I reassure as he tosses me an old t-shirt and joggers to sleep in. “It’s comfier than my bed anyway.

His guest bedrooms had just been painted and were still pretty fume filled so the sofa or his bed were the only options. For twenty minutes now he’s tried to convince me to take his bed and leave him on the sofa, despite the fact we both know he’s a little too tall to sleep without his feet hanging off the end.

“But you’re my guest!” He protests again, coming up from his wardrobe to stand in front of me, hand on hips and an expression of concern on his face.

“And you’re almost six foot!”

“Hey, I am six foot.” He takes a deep breathe, exhaling through his nose in defeat before speaking again. “Okay, you can sleep on the sofa but if anyone asks I was the perfect host and you bullied me into this.”

I laugh softly, this whole new side of Harry had never been directed solely at me before and it was honestly refreshing. Usually Nick or another friend was the target of his jokes and playful demeanor and I only noticed it from afar but now he was right in front of me, hauling pillows off his bed and sticking his tongue out when he caught me staring.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” He asks for the third time since I agreed to stay the night. We’ve just finished setting up the sofa to sleep on and despite the duvet and many quilts far more lush than my own actual bed, he seemed unconvinced it was enough.

“I’m sure” I sit back into the pile of blankets and pillows, tucking my feet underneath me and looking back up at Harry. “If you’re really not, just come watch a film with me and see how cozy it is.”

The quick change in dynamic was a lot smoother than I’d imagined. Within an hour of being alone together we’d already talked more than in all our past interactions, not to mention how close we’ve gotten. He only nods his head quickly and he’s settling under a quilt beside me, rummaging around for a controller to pull up netflix again.

“Mamma Mia two?” He asks.

I chuckle a bit and nod. At the beginning of the evening I hadn’t quite seen it ending in a Mamma Mia marathon with just me and Harry.

He presses play and as the opening display begins we both lean back into the sofa and pull the blankets up over us. It’s only in the quiet of the first few scenes that I notice we’re matching. We’re both dressed fully in his clothes, grey joggers and t-shirt - his rolling stones, mine fleetwood mac. And it all smells of him. I pull the blanket a little higher over my chest and the faint, but now familiar, scent of vanilla and coffee fills my lungs and for a second all I can focus on is how desperately I want to be in his arms again.

. . . . .

“-ow” A groggy voice mumbles from above me and I feel myself being pulled forwards slightly against something hard - and warm.

I’m a few seconds from falling straight back asleep before I feel the painful ache in the side of my neck. I reach a hand up to gauge my current situation and feel my fingers plunging into soft hair - soft hair that ends too soon to be mine.

“Hi..” I recoil my hand quickly back to my side and push myself up so I’m sitting slightly. I look down and see Harry, half asleep still and hand still resting on my side.

“Oh-hey sorry,” What do you say when you wake up beside the guy you barely knew but simultaneously had been incredibly vulnerable with just the night before?

Harry seems to be waking up now and certainly more aware of our predicament as he pulls his hand away from where it was holding firmly onto the material of my - his - t-shirt and pushes himself up to sit against the arm of the sofa.

“We must have fallen asleep..sorry I didn’t mean too, ya know…” His eyes flutter between where I sit opposite him and the “Are you still watching?” Netflix screen.

“It’s fine, accidents happen an’ everything.” I smile, slipping out from the warm cocoon of blankets to stand. “I’m just gonna wash up quickly and I’ll be out of you hair.”

Before I can rush off to tame my hair and hopefully find some toothpaste to rid me of my morning breath, Harry clasps his hand gently around my wrist and tugs slightly to get my attention.

“Not in a rush Love, I’ll make us some breakfast.” He says it effortlessly, like it was a regular occurrence for us to fall asleep cuddling on his sofa. He stands, groaning as his knees pop appreciatively and lets my hand go before he’s disappearing into the kitchen.

“Okay…” I murmur to myself. “....okay.”

. . . . .

Alice is back at my table with my second refill before 11am. I thank her and take a gulp of the fiery ginger tea before reading over the last three paragraphs I just wrote. The spice licks my tongue as I tip the cup up for a second sip; it’s autumn after all.

In the last two weeks September had slipped into October and all the trees in London had received the memo. I’d been busy, hoaled up in the quietest corner of Blondies the whole time with coffee filling all my senses. I haven’t seen everyone together since that night at Harry’s. I grabbed lunch with Eleanor the Monday afterwards and told her nothing, preferring to avoid the texts my phone amassed over the fortnight. I've turned down all proposed group activities and focused on work instead. To be fair, I do have a lot to get done. There were always seasonal pieces in my to do list and with the weather getting colder it was time I got to them before it was Christmas already.

I haven’t talked to Harry either. He made us pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup in the morning and we haven’t even texted since; I’m not sure that we even have a private text between us. Eleanor and Julia have told me how much fun they’ve all had the times I’ve politely but persistently declined, I can only assume Harry’s in the mix with them all. He’s in town for awhile if I’m remembering our breakfast chatter correctly, it makes sense that they’re all hanging out together really when they don’t often get time together. Ellie’s phone calls keep me from sliding into thoughts of how easily I could fall right out of the group and not be missed, at least. I was just taking space for work. The fact that most of my afternoons at the cafe disappeared into me analysing anything I might ever have felt or said to Harry means nothing at all.

Neither does the heightened pace of my heartbeat when he walks through the stiff wooden doors of Blondies.

He orders what I assume is his regular black coffee, scans the room for a second and lands directly on me. He hesitates a little to hold my gaze, turning his head to look outside before looking back at me and smiling. He thanks the server and takes a few quick steps towards me, weaving in between the packed tables to my little spot hidden away in the corner.

“Hi,” He smiles again, although his toneos overshadowed by a slight anxious hilt. “Can I sit?”

Nodding, I close my laptop and pull my tea closer to me to make a space for him.

“Hi.” He repeats, smiling a little sheepishly.

“Hi,” I wait a second, nervous to start when I’m so unsure of how this conversation has already gone in his head. But he doesn’t say anything so I push through and bite the bullet against my better judgement. “Look, about that Friday I-”

“Can I just-” He cuts me off, leaning forwards and opening his hands out as he mulls over his next few words. “I’m sorry if it was awkward at all, I didn’t mean for anything to happen and I thought we were fine an’ everything but then I haven’t seen you in two weeks and Ellie keeps saying you’re not comin’ out. Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh god no,” I hurry, “You didn’t do anything it was just - I didn’t expect to wake up..like that...and it was just a really quick change because we’ve never really been close and suddenly it was just, us, like that.”

He nods, pushing a loose curl back a second later that broke free in the motion. He seems understanding as he looks down before leaning his elbows against the table so only the two of us can hear what he’s about to say.

“I know, I didn’t expect it either but, can I just tell you I’m glad that it happened?” He leaves a three second pause for me to flounder in confusion before continuing. “What I told you, ‘bout feeling lonely, it messes with my sleep all the time. I just get stuck in my own thoughts but the night you stayed over I slept fine - perfect even.”

Not sure what else to do with this new information, I nod for him to continue.

“I know we’ve never been close, but hanging out with you just really calmed me down.” He smiles, gaining confidence now in his vulnerability tucked away in our little hiding place. “Thank you for staying.”

“I get what you mean.” I mumble, slightly anxious any of the busy customers with prying eyes could overhear my confession. “I never really know when to stop working and I think I got the best night sleep on your sofa I’ve had in awhile, which really speaks volumes about how crappy my mattress is.”

He chuckles. Relief seems to settle in as he lets his shoulders relax and face soften.

“I was thinking - especially now that I know it was good for you as well, maybe it could become more of a regular thing?” He asks, his forefinger and thumb pinch together and twist one of his rings a little - a nervous habit, I’m sure.

“How do you mean?”

“Like..when we all go out, maybe we go home together, you know - so we can sleep better.” He moves down to focus on the metal rose he’s still fumbling at. “If..if you don’t want to or you think it’d be weird it’s fi-”

“I’d like that.” I reach forwards to comfort him, absentmindedly cupping my fingers around his. “I think it’d be nice, to get a good night's sleep I mean.”

“I’m glad.” He beams.

“..That and you make a mean blueberry pancake.” I tease, earning a light chuckle from Harry.

Just like our last cafe encounter, the ping of a his phone beats me to my new few words. He checks it quickly, shaking his head and glancing down the large room to the shop front where, once again, Jeff waits. He seems a little more agitated this time, waving vigorously whilst trying not to attract the attention of passersby, all rather unsuccessfully.

“Bollocks okay - I’ve gotta go,” Harry swears, collecting his coffee from the table and pushing his chair back quickly. “I’ll just - we can text before we go out next yeah?”

“Cool, yeah - wait a sec, let me just give you my number.” I reach up for him to hand me his phone but he doesn’t make any effort to move, instead he blushes slightly and stares at the floor. “..What?”

“I um, I already have it.” He fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck before talking again. It’s hard not to remember how it felt when it was my fingers carding through his brown curls. “I got it from Theo awhile back when we were going to this thing, felt weird not having it. I hope that..okay and everythin’”

I nod, smiling up at him. The idea of him having a part of me for this past year without me even knowing is oddly precious. The fact that he felt odd about not having my number and going to the effort of getting it from Theo was unbelievably endearing.

“That’s fine, helpful actually.” I smile still, “Text me before we meet everyone and we’ll make a plan or somethin’”

“Okay,” He smirks, his slight cocky nature reemerging. “Will do, Liv. See you soon?”

“See you soon.”

Jeff flies a hand up to his hair like before but this time is met with a grinning Harry who doesn’t seem to mind so much.

. . . . .

Unknown Number

‘Hey! Is tonight good? We can slip off after drinks at the gallery. H x’

I look down at my phone. Caught off guard by the sudden text, I’d almost forgotten out arrangement. Julia invited us all to a gallery opening of one of her friend's new exhibits. Even as I flicked through my wardrobe for the right jacket, I hadn’t put two and two together and realised I’d be seeing Harry again for the first time since our chat at Blondies four days ago.

I save his number and I think quickly, not wanting to leave him on read when he knew I’d be leaving to see them all any second and most likely spend the whole tube journey on my phone.

‘Hi :) That’d work for me yh, just let me know when you want to leave and I’ll make an excuse. Liv x’

With another thought rushing through my head, I send a quick follow up.

‘Can we keep this between us right now? Might be a bit tricky to explain to the others.”

Harry

‘Read my mind love.’

‘See you in a bit :)’

I’m still not the hugest fan of the airy feeling that rushed through my stomach as I read over the pet name. He was just from Manchester, it was normal up there to call everything by casually affectionate little names. It didn’t mean anything at all.

. . . . .

“Livia!” Nick calls out when he sees me scanning over the faces at the entrance to the gallery. I smile instantly and make my way over, quickly falling into his arms as he rocks us for a second. “Haven’t seen you in an age!”

“‘Ve been working, we can’t all piss about Monday to Friday.” I giggle, smiling wide as he murmurs something under his breath and plants a big kiss on my cheek. “Is everyone here?”

I try not to look suspicious when I peak over around us, trying to pick a certain brunette from the crowd.

“Yeah, they’re just over there with Julia’s friend.” Nick points and I see him immediately. He’s dressed just as I expected - half gucci half grandpa sweaters. “I’m gonna get us drinks, meet you there?”

“Mhmmm” I hum, breaking out of his hold and slipping through the crowds to our small group of friends.

“Hi!” Julia smiles brightly. She hugs me quickly before stepping aside to give Eleanor and Theo their turns. They all whisper quiet ‘Missed yous’ in my ear as if I’ve been gone for years.

“Hey,” Harry appears by my side as everyone else turns their attention to the front of the crowd where it looks like the artist is setting up to introduce the night. “How’ve you been?”

“In the last four days?” I chuckle, “Good. Not been sleeping great, but I’ve got a lot of work done so that’s been great.”

He nods approvingly. A smile tugs at his lips at the mention of sleep, almost like some secret inside joke we’ve managed to form between just the two of us.

“Me neither. Jeff’s been buggin’ me what feels like every hour with deadlines.” I find myself squeezing his hand a little under his long coat sleeves so nobody can see. “Looking forward to just collapsing tonight, if I’m honest.”

“Me too.” I smile tiredly, tonight had been a big ask come to think of it. I've had work piled up twice my height all week and even having worked day in and day out I’ve still only made a crack in the mountain of final edits and emails to respond to.

Harry squeezes my fingers back and our hands linger in each other's hold until Nick emerges beside us and the artist begins her speech.

. . . . .

The comfortable chatter surrounding the booth we’d taken up a few hours ago died down as the clock ticked later and later. We’d left the gallery a while ago now in favour of the after party at a pub down the road but by now the heavy scent of beers and various gin based concoctions were giving us all headaches.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night guys,” Harry announces, a slew of groans following from the group. “Sorry, sorry! It’s been great but it’s getting late.”

Julia and Theo move out the way to let him out the booth. He slides across the red cushion to stand, pulling his coat over himself as he sneaks a quick look at me.

“I think I’m gonna head off too,” I smile, waiting for Eleanour to stand and let me out as another wave of complaints flooded me. “Sorry! I’ve got work and the tube’ll be hell any later.”

“Well if Harry’s going too couldn’t he take you home?” Julia suggests, looking between the two of us as we now stand slightly away from each other. “You drove right?”

“Yeah, I did.” Harry turns to smile at me, amused clearly by how our plan was being unknowingly encouraged by our friends. “C’mon, I’ll drive yeh.”

I nod, biting back a smirk. We say our goodbyes and wave as we slip out the heavy pub doors out onto the road outside. It’s started to drizzle slightly and I resent choosing the jacket without a hood.

“I’m just over here,” Harry points a little ways off. “Hurry, think it’s about to pour.”

We walk quickly down the street and through a metal gate into a car park when there’s a loud rumble of thunder and immediately the rain thickens.

“Fuck!” Harry laughs as he scrambles for his keys, we match each other's paces until we’re practically sprinting to his car in the far corner of the lot. The click of the locks sounds out and his lights flash red a second before we’re both pulling the doors open and throwing ourselves inside onto warm seats.

We catch our breath, chests rising and falling with uneven pants before our laughter settles and Harry slots the keys into the ignition.

. . . . .

“Do you want anything to eat?” Harry asks as he closes his front door behind us and we kick out shoes off in his hall. “I think I have some takeout menus somewhere..”

“I’m not really hungry, thanks though,” I cut off his search as he walks through to his kitchen and starts opening draws. “Kinda just wanna go to bed now.”

He nods and rubs a hand under his eye in silent agreement of my exhaustion.

“I’ll make us a tea, meet you up there yeah?” He calls over his shoulder, having turned quickly to retrieve various packets from his cupboards. “Chamomile okay?”

“Yeah chamomiles good,” I hover for a second in the archway leading into the kitchen, suddenly awkward to be alone in his house again. “Where um..where is it?”

He looks over his shoulder at me, slightly confused. His eye brows unfurrow when I motion behind me.

“Oh- just up the stairs and third room down the hall..on the left.” He smiles, turning back to the cupboard to look through his extensive mug collection.

I nod to myself, spinning on my heel and making my way up his stairs. I’ve never gone beyond the downstairs of his house before and even then I stuck to the kitchen, dining room and lounge. It felt odd to suddenly have access to something as intimate as his bedroom, I try not to overthink things as I push open the third door I see.

The first thing I see is his large bed, there’s probably enough room for three people on it and there’s definitely enough pillows to go around. The room as a whole is tidy, whether it’s always like that or only organised so precisely for my visit, I don’t know, but the thought makes my stomach flutter.

I walk up to the side of the bed with no charger on it’s table and set my bag down. We hadn’t talked about the logistics of our...arrangement, but I’d brought the basics to last me through the night. I plug my charger into the wall and take out my wash bag and a set of clothes to sleep in before sliding my bag under the table. I look around for a second. Somehow I hadn’t really thought through the fact that by the end of the night, I’d be in Harry’s bed. With Harry. In a completely platonic way with the only function to soothe our mutually crappy sleeping habits.

I hear Harry walking up the stairs just as I slip into the un suit to wash up and get changed. He’s humming a song under his breath. The clink of mugs being set down is followed by wardrobe doors opening and closing and a light thud of clothes being thrown on the bed.

I wait a few minutes to make sure I don’t walk in on him changing. Opening the door tentatively, I step out into the room in a large sweater and pajama shorts. Harry turns to look at me, he’s in the same t-shirt he wore last time and a pair of boxer shorts and the whole situation suddenly seems so amusing. After just one night of falling asleep on the sofa together, not having ever talked before, here we are standing at our most vulnerable about to cuddle in his bed together.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” He nods, looking down at himself. “Hope this is okay...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or-”

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I didn’t really know what to wear either.”

His eyes flicker down my body and he smiles back up at me. He motions to the bed and we both nod a little awkwardly before making our way over to our sides. I climb in and instantly let a small groan out as my body sinks into the mattress, the pillows and duvet feel almost like a cloud as I burrow under and pull my tea up to my lips.

Harry chuckles from beside me, I peak over the mug to seem him grinning down from where he sits slightly taller in the bed.

“Sorry, you look comfy.” He laughs a little,

“I am, your bed’s insane.” I set my mug down and turn to him, bouncing slightly to emphasise the quality of his mattress that probably cost more than a year of my rent. “I really should start earning millions, feel like it’d suit me.”

He returns his tea to the bedside table and copies me, turning to face me with his legs crossed.

“It definitely would.” He smiles, bouncing a little before I let out a yawn. “Tired?”

“Exhausted.” I mumble, hand still covering half my face. Harry reaches behind him to turn to switch the lights above his headboard off before pulling the duvet back for us to slip under.

“C’mere,” Without hesitating, I shuffle back slightly until I can feel his chest behind me and an arm come up to rest around my hip. “‘This okay?”

“Mhmmm,” I hum, “What about our teeth?”

“We’ll brush ‘em in the morning,” I nod, groaning again as all the aches in my body subside as I sink into his arms and the foam mattress. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I mumble, embarrassed to have let myself go so easily around him. “Your mattress is just unbelievable. Might have to make this a regular thing.”

I speak before I think, mind clouded with sleep and my eyes already fighting to stay open.

“That’s the plan, love.”

. . . . .

When I wake up, Harry’s arms are tight around my middle and his body’s like a furnace behind me. I vaguely recall pulling my sweater off in the night to cool down as I lay now only in a vest and shorts. I slept better than I have in months though, despite the warm breaths on my neck turning my cheeks flushed.

The mix of Harry’s company and his safe haven of a mattress made for the perfect night sleep. I push back slightly into his chest and feel his arms tighten around me and a low murmur of his voice in my ear. The clock on my bedside table reads 6:30. It’s a Saturday and I can quite easily imagine spending the rest of my day - weekend even, exactly like this.

I slip back to sleep for a little awhile before I’m woken up to a low groan behind me. Harry shifts slightly, burying his face in the base of my neck and squeezing around my waist again. He must still be half asleep to be this comfortable with me.

I’m proven right when it takes another fifteen minutes for him to poke his head up over my shoulder and mumble:

“Breakfast?”

. . . . .

Our routine works smoothly for weeks. After sleeping so well the first few times, it became a given that we’d pile into Harry’s car after every night out with our friends and go back to his. Sometimes we’d get takeout or watch a film, but it wasn’t so rare that we’d just stumble out of his car, or a taxi - depending what the night had entailed, and walk with eyes almost closed straight to bed.

I stopped bringing things every night about two weeks in when a new toothbrush appeared next to Harrys and an oversized t-shirt of Harrys found its way onto my side of the bed. We also ditched the awkward pleasantries. Spending two or three nights a week in his house, I’d become pretty familiar with it all. I sometimes brought us breakfast if it was a weekend, or left a coffee beside the bed for him if I left for work first, We had very easily slipped into an oddly familiar sense of domesticity. It was strange to never mention any of it to our friends, it made it special though. We helped each other, and it was all just between the two of us. Nobody else knew Harry taught me how to make coffee just the way he likes it, or that we share his lavender shampoo sometimes.

“Ols?” Harry calls up the stairs to me. We’re running late to Julia and Theos anniversary dinner.

“Coming!” I yell back, reaching into his wardrobe to snatch a jacket before running down the stares.

“Oi! Slow down love, you’re gonna fall,” He complains, holding his hands out at the bottom of the stairs to catch me as I skid a little on the wooden floors of his hallway. “Hey! This’s mine!”

He tugs playfully on the opening of his jacket. I pull the fabric from his grasp and smile up at him.

“Not anymore…” He scrunches his nose up and pulls me towards him. The sudden movement pushed the air from my lungs suddenly. “-Fine! Just for tonight...nobody’ll notice anyway, you only just got his one.”

He shakes his head, bringing his fingers up to tickles across my stomach quickly before letting me go and clapping his hands.

“Shoes now!” He points down at my sock clad feet, “Come on we’re late already.”

I sling my bag over my shoulder and slip my boots on before trailing after him to the front door. He’s pulled his large green coat off the hangar before he’s looking back down at me, brows pulled together in confusion.

“What’ve got yeh bag for?”

“Ah see Harry, I tend not to leave my stuff places I don’t actually live.” I laugh.

“You’re not coming back tonight?” The confusion’s not joined by a hint of sadness as his hands fall from the door knob and he turns to face front on.

“Oh I..hadn’t thought ‘bout that. I’ve gotta water my plants.” I haven't been home in two days, I spent the whole day at Blondies yesterday then headed to Harry's after a few drinks with him and Nick. We’ve hung out around his house all day, sleeping in and finishing our last few bits of work for the week. “I can let them go a little dry I guess-”

“Can I come to yours?” Harry cuts me off to ask. “It’s just, I haven’t ever seen it..and that way your plant’ll be fine.”

I stay quiet for a second. Our world of sleepovers and movie marathons and home made curries for dinner existed within his house. My flat was small in comparisons to the homes of our friends, who were all, delicately put, pretty well off. Not that I wasn’t, I’d just gone into a lower paying area of my industry. I lived alone anyway so there wasn’t much point paying thousands in rent when I didn’t need much space.

“It’s fine it you want a night to yourself I can just-”

“It’s not that, H, I just didn't really think about how we only ever come here.” I mumble the last part, “Come back to mine, I don’t feel like going back on my own anyways.”

I smile a little, unsure of where we stand on the whole admitting we’d grown pretty dependent on each other’s presence, front. He smiles back, twisting the door open and holding it for me as I slip under his arm.

The car clicks unlocked and I settle into my seat. I reach over to push my seat belt in as Harry pulls his door shut and the car rumbles to a start.

“Can’t believe Jules and T have been together so long.” He sighs as we pull out onto the main road.

“Tell me about it,” I gaze out the window as rain dribbles lightly. “Feels like the year just went straight by.”

“They seem so happy still, like they’re still honeymooning,” Harry hums.

“I remember when they just started going out in Uni, even then it was obvious they’d end up together.”

“I like those kinds of people. The ones who make each other just completely themselves, ya know?” He glances over at me before turning back to the road.

“Yeah...they’re proper soulmates aren’t they.”

. . . . .

“Okay but seriously, what the fuck is up with you and Harry?” Eleanor bursts out as soon as we reach the bar. We’ve been sent off to get the third round whilst the others stayed at our favourite booth of the pub we frequented.

“Wait what?” I yell over the loud chatter of the pub, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean!” She’s still waving her hand out for the bartender when she glances down at me again. “You’re tryna say you’re suddenly so close and nothing’s happened between you?”

“We’re not that close.” I quip, “We’ve just talked a bit more lately, I guess.”

“And nothing’s happened?” She raised a brow at me suspiciously. “You guys have left together every night for the past few weeks, just admit you have feelings for each other.”

“No, nothing’s happened.” I sigh, unsure if I sound convincing or not. “We just live close and it’s too cold now to get the tube back so late, he’s just being nice. You know Harry...he’s like that with everyone.”

Eleanor laughs a little, shaking her head. She places our order with the bartender when he makes his way to our side of the bar before turning back to me with her arms crossed.

“He’s nice to everyone, but he’s not just being nice to you.” She smirks, “And he usually doesn't give just anybody his clothes.”

She reaches out and rubs the fabric of my - Harrys - jacket between her thumb and forefinger. She looks up and quirks her brows up a little again. Before I can splutter out an explanation our drinks are being laid out on the counter beside us and Eleanor is pointing to the ones for me to carry and turning back to our booth.

A surge of anxiety washes over me as I follow Eleanor back to the group. My breaths feel unsteady and I can’t help but dart my eyes to get a quick glance at Harry to see if he’s experiencing the same kind of interrogation. He seems fine though, laughing at something Nicks said.

Soon we’re at the booth, slipping back into our seats and setting the drinks out in front of everyone. Harry’s eyes hover on me for a few seconds, brows raised a little in question. I smile and shake my head - everything’s fine.

I don’t miss how Eleanor glances between us throughout the whole night. Especially not when a different two get up for the next round and Harry and I are pushed next to each other when they climb back into the available seats. Harry seems a little suspicious too. He clearly hasn’t noticed Eleanor’s strange behaviour - or doesn’t care - because he’s kept gazing down at me every now and then since we came back with drinks hours ago. When I stop looking up at him, nervous Eleanor might question me about his constant and slightly nervous glances when we’re alone, he reaches his hand under the tables and pulls mine into his lap. He squeezes our hands every now and then. He’s always a touchy, cuddly drunk. Normally it’s a bit more obvious; he’ll wrap his arms around one of us on the dance floor or lap his head on a shoulder, nothing too intimate. Just friendly. But now he’s stroking his thumb over my knuckles and tapping out the beat of the current song playing with his foot, his knee bumping mine.

Julia and Theo are the first to go. Relief settles in me at the idea of not being the first two to leave for once. There’s no way Eleanor wouldn't’ve have noticed me and Harry sneaking the other a glance like we usually do to signal we’re ready to go, without some kind of distraction.

“It was so lovely guys, feels like we haven’t just sat down and talked in so long!” Julia smiles, leaning into Theos side tiredly as they say their goodbyes.

“I think I’m gonna head off too, it’s getting pretty late,” I smile, waiting for Harry to speak when Theo pipes up before him.

“Livs, you want a lift?” Theo looks down at me.

“Oh Olivia, that’s a good idea, you were just saying how it’s too cold for the tube.” Eleanor beams, smiling cheekily as she knows I’m the only one who’ll understand her subtle teasing.

“Oh I-” I stutter before Harry’s squeezing my hand again and looks up at Theo.

“I was actually gonna take her home, we’re only 10 minutes apart so it’s just easier.” He smiles politely, if I couldn’t feel his foot hooking over mine I’d believe he was just being nice and helping out a friend.

“Yeah but you’re gonna stay a little while aren’t you?” Julia countered, “We’re pretty close, it’s fine really.”

I nod, motioning to slide out of the booth. Harry lets me by, dropping my hand before anyone else could see. Julia, Theo and I say goodbye quickly and head out to the car park. As soon as we’re all strapped into their car, I pull out my phone and click Harry’s contact.

Meet me at mine x

Harry

Okay - what was that about?

I’ll explain when u get here, just something w Eleanor

U might have been right about the jacket :/

Theo pulls up outside my flat and I jump out the car, thanking them quickly and waving them off. I climb the stairs of my building and click the keys in my door, pushing it open and kicking my shoes off the second I get in. After a fifteen minute frantic clean, the place is looking slightly better. There’s no time to perfect it as I hear my phone buzzing on the counter, a dorky photo of Harry in one of his infamous sweaters all sprawled out on the sofa and sticking his tongue out at me flashes the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m just outside,” He talks softly, “What number are you?”

“24, wait a sec and I’ll buzz you up.”

I tread quickly to the button by my front door and let him up, hearing a quiet thanks over the phone and a “See you in a sec” before the line goes dead.

A minute later there’s a quiet knock at my door. I open it and see Harry, he looks a little more tired than when I left him forty minutes ago, he rubs his knuckles under his eyes and sighs softly.

“Hey, come in.” I pull the door a little wider, stepping aside to let him inside. He walks past me, eyes watching the floor whilst I lock the up behind us and turn to face him. There's an awkward tension in the air that I haven’t experienced with Harry before, maybe a little that first night when I walked in on him in his kitchen, but nothing like this since we’ve gotten closer.

“What happened?” He asks quietly, lifting his head with an uncertain look on his face.”You barely even looked at me.

“I..” I stumble over what to say, I’ve been thinking I could just explain what Eleanor had said and have it done with but now I know we’re not going to be able to just leave this. If somebody’s going to find out about our arrangement then something would have to change. “Ellie thinks there’s something going on with us and she kept staring all night. I just, I couldn’t give her anything to be suspicious about.”

“S’that what you mean about the jacket?” I nod, “What did she say?”

“Just that we seemed closer, talk more I guess.” I sigh, “She didn’t believe anything I said.”

“What did you say?” He presses. His tone is unclear, he seems less hurt now and more focussed on getting answers from me.

“I just, I told her nothing’s happened.” I mumble, “She asked about us leaving together and I told her it was just because we lived close and it’s easier than the tube.”

Harry bobs his head a little, taking in what I’ve just told him before laughing a little. He shakes his head and brings his palms up to his face, cursing under his breath. We stand in the quiet of my hallway before he speaks up again.

“Can we still do this?” That catches me off guard. Of course I knew we’d have to stop sometime when one of us started dating or a friend found out, I just hadn’t thought seriously about it happening anytime soon. “If she does find out, would that be the worst thing in the world?”

I shake my head, taking a step towards him to close the gap between us that’d been building my nerves throughout this whole exchange.

“I don’t wanna stop hanging out.” I confess. Harry quirks his lips up a little, obviously relieved as he pulls me to his chest. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and rests his chin on my head as we breathe together for a moment. All the while we’ve been spending nights at his, there’s been no serious moments like this. We’ve opened up about vulnerable subjects and confessed more than we probably should have to each other, but never anything like this. There’d never been a time I thought I could lose him.

“What if something did happen.” He whispers into my hair.

“Like what?” I murmur, voice a little muffled by his jacket.

“Like..” He trails off a little and I’m pretty sure I hear him inhale a little and smell my hair. “Like what if I kissed you..or something.”

“Or something?” My chest tightens, stomach fluttering suddenly.

“Mmhhhmm,” He hums, “What would happen then?”

“Eleanor would have a field day.”

Harry laughs, shoulders shaking a little as he giggles above me. He loosens his grip on my and pushes away to create a little space to see me again.

“Oh yeah?” He teases.

“Uh huh,” I smile, “She’d never let us forget it if she knew she was right.”

“And what would she be right about?” Harry lifts his hand to cup my face, tilting it slightly to make sure I’m staring right up at him.

“..Something..happening.” I whisper, “Having feelings for eachother.”

Harry grins, cheeks a soft rosy between the outside cold and the new blush. He strokes the pad of his thumb against my cheek and beams down at me.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh…”

“Really..she’d be right about that?”

“I’m pretty sure-”

Before I can tease anymore, Harry’s leaning down to press his lips against mine. I inhale sharply, closing my eyes and looping my arms around the back of his neck to hold us in place. His hand still holds my face firmly, thumb fluttering over my cheek a couple times before he pulls away and we both breathe in deep.

“She’s definitely right.” He smiles, tone turning serious for a moment. “I really like you Olivia.”

Butterflies surge through my stomach for the millionth time since he walked through my door. Blushing and happy, I tighten my arms and push my face back into his shoulder.

“I like you too H….just a little bit.”

“We don’t have to tell anyone, just want this to be ours for a little while.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he leans back down to whisper into my ear.

“I want this to be ours forever.” I hum, words quiet and part of me hoping he doesn't hear my honest confession.

A comforting quiet settles over us. I remember how tired I really am as I melt further into Harry’s body, breathing in the sweet cinnamon and vanilla scent. His breathing lulls me half to sleep as I let my eyes flutter shut and bury my head further into his neck. I feel him lifting me up as my body relaxes against his and I catch his last few words before I he’s shifting me into his arms and walking us up the stairs.

“I could hold you ‘n listen to your voice all night long, love.”

. . . . .

“Oh my god!” Julia yells out, unravelling a long shawl from pristine white tissue paper. “Okay whoever got me, thank you so much!”

She continues to squeal a little as he wraps it over her shoulders and presses the end to her nose, inhaling the lavender scent of her favourite designer brand.

I’d only spent one Christmas with the whole group before but it was clear secret Santa was a bit of a tradition. Between the six of us we all had other friends, family and mostly, relationships. Organising a secret santa within our group just relieved some of the stress of present buying - and it was fun.

We’re all sitting around Harry’s living room, it felt the homiest to us after all. The kiddy advent calendar I bought for him hung by the fireplace reading December 21st. We’ve all finished our egg nogs, meaning it was officially present time. Over the next few days we’ll all be driving up and down the country to visit family, meaning today’s the last day most of us will be seeing each other. Harry had whined about me leaving, begging me to stay another day with him or better yet - spend christmas with his family up north.

It was when I told him my own parents were spending the holidays visiting my sister and her kids in New York that his campaign started. We kissed almost three months ago now and have been on a slew of dates since. Between all the secret dinners out, brunches and farmers market trips, we haven’t found time for the talk. We had no official title. I’ve heard Harry refer to me as “m’girl” a couple times when I’ve wandered into the kitchen and overheard him on the phone to mitch, but nothing he’s told me himself. Despite this, he still insists I have to come and spend christmas with him and his close family. The idea of me hanging out with my young cousins and distant relatives apparently doesn’t satisfy him.

“Are you serious!” Eleanor gasps as she unwraps her own present. Everyone had picked the perfect gifts for each other this year. In a pure coincidence, I ended up with Harry’s name after Nick made me trade because he’d already bought Julia’s present for her. I’ve been nervous about it all evening, I was sure he’d like it, a little too sure. That was the problem. One night, wrapped up in Harry’s bed, he’d recalled his latest tragedy to me: He’d taken shroom with Mitch on his last trip to LA and subsequently decided to skinny dip in the sea, losing his favourite mustard cords in the process. The only times we’ve seen everyone else has been with the both of us present and , to my knowledge, he hasn’t mentioned this to anyone else. The brown paper package that sat on the coffee table could invite a few more questions that I was prepared to answer.

“Harry, you’re next!” Ellie grinned, hugging her present to her chest.

Thanks to our early secrecy, there’s been no opportunity to tell our friends we were dating. Eleanor hasn’t stopped her constant questioning but we’ve kept up a pretty good front of excuses. It was still freezing out so it made sense for us both to climb into his car together at the end of the night. Nobody had to know we would be going home to the same house where we’d climb into the same heavenly bed and scramble eggs together in the morning.

“I’m going, I’m going!” Harry laughs as Ellie tries to hurry him up, playing perfectly into her role as the youngest in our group.

He pulls the first fold of paper back with his ringed fingers and immediately looks up at me as the mustard fabric shines up at him. He grins wide, beaming back at me before pulling the rest of the paper back and laying the trousers out in front of him.

“No babe...where did you find them?” He’s running his fingers down the cord, in awe to have his favorite trousers back - or at least a copy.

I don’t miss how Eleanor and Nick’s heads turn to share a look of shock as the pet name tumbles out. Before I can put anything together, Harry’s standing and leaning over the coffee table. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug and whispering his thanks in my ear.

“Wait I dont - how did you know it was h-” Julia pipes up, before she can finish she’s cut off by the joint gasps of Nick and Ellie as Harry plants a wet kiss to my cheek - then my lips, and laughs at our friends reaction.

“I knew it!” Ellie yells, pointing frantically between the two of us, Harry now having stepped over the table and come to sit next to me, pulling me into his side.

“What was-” Julia stammers, “Since when!”

Harry’s eyes flutter down to my face. He giggles quietly when he catches on to my glare. This wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined the evening going.

“Have you just been lying to my face for the past three months?” Ellie asks, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting her lips.

“Five,” Harry mumbles, almost just as an inside joke for the both of us to enjoy. I slap my hand against his shoulder to shut him up but the damage is already done.

“Five months!” Even Theo’s joining in now. “How didn’t we know?”

“It didn’t start out like this honestly, we would’ve told you.” I try and explain, eager for this to quiet down so we could get to the roast dinner waiting for us in the oven.

“How did it start?” Nick pokes, drawing Julia and Ellie’s attention as the same puzzled expressions adorn their faces.

“Unimportant,” Harry brushes off, standing up to tower over us all and reaching a hand back for my own. “We better get dinner, we wouldn't want burnt potatoes.”

Harry pulls on my arm gently, leading me out the room before anyone can object.

In the kitchen, he picks up a tea towel and starts to check on the food, prodding at the parsnips. I roll my eyes as he ties his lavender apron around his waist and tentatively pulls the potato tray from the oven.

“Harry..” I sigh, trying not to laugh as he turn to face me, spatula in hand.

“Yes dear?”

“What was that?”

“Oh - You’ve gotta shimmy a little spatula under the potatoes or they’ll break apart-”

“No, obviously not that,” He makes it so hard so stay stern, a giggle leaks out as he lifts a hand to rest on his hip. “Why did you do that?”

“I want them to know.” drops his utensils, tone sincere as he takes another step towards me. “I want our friends to know how much I love you already, and you remember about my mustard cords so..it felt like the perfect time.”

“What?” I stutter, looking up at him from where he’s pulled me into his chest. His hands rest on my waist, rings a little hold against my exposed skin.

“You remembered the trousers I lost last month in LA -”

“You love me?”

His eyes go a little wide, a smile peaking through as the sides of his mouth quirk upwards. Realising what he just said, he lifts a hand from my waist to rest it against my face and lean down a little.

“Of course I love you.” He whispers, his voice a little croaky and I can see tiny droplets gathering in his eyes that make my heart flutter.

“Love you too..” I mumble. I wipe a thumb over his cheek before pulling him down into a kiss. I feel his smile against my own, and everything’s perfect for just a second.

“So you’ll come to Christmas with me?”

. . . . .

Hiii I hate the ending :)

Tysm for reading !! pls leave a like or reblog (it rlly helps <3) if you enjoyed it x

#Harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #stellarboystyles3years #“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”#dani's masterlist #dani's writing #fan fic #harry styles #nick grimshaw #reader #idk #what do u even put in tags #christmas vibes?#friends to lovers

304 notes · View notes

staysuki · 2 years

Note

i m alive

read about 10 chapters of slc continuously and it messed up my brain in ways you cannot imagine because of the many many things going on 😤 i can see myself in jake for ordering a ratatouille for the movie's sake 💀 first of all, i honestly cannot understand why restaurants would go to such lengths to use fancy language in menus 👁️👄👁️ i mean yeah, it s because it s literally what it s called bUt plS i just want to eat my pasta with garlic and olive oil sauce in peace. at least put pictures or a short description :">> i m not rk, idk rk stuff so bear with me 👊

thanks to lovegame anon smort sexc brain, i already expected the wonbi (wonpil & bibi) scandal 😎 but if i were them, i would ve stayed just for the drama 💅 but ig they won t have any proper closure without privacy so eh. the waiter cutting them off is just hilarious lmfao i died there 💀 an innocent man got caught up in the mess but in their defense, homie didn t bother trying to read the mood. dasurv 1/2

my assumptions about lia is so wrong, kinda feel bad for not trusting her, not one bit 😭 instead of a fight between lia and y/n, it s with ryujin. but yeah, that was a bitchy move XD anyways, rip jake s face.

felix touching y/n without consent is weird and creepy af 🚩🚩🚩 i still love him not as much as i do to seungmin though 😌 when he straight up sent a selfie to hyunjin SJFJDSAJFJKDFKJFDKJFDKFKJFADSK NAUR. but hyunjin did really seem 😏thirsty 🥵 sneakily asking for pics 👀 still, bestie sent a pic LMFAO send me one too pls. if hyunjin really had the hots for felix, i wouldn t blame him. THIS IS FELIX WE RE TALKING ABOUT.

who tf is samuel? is it hyunjin s nickname or something? a new character? like THE kim samuel? or hwang s father is so much of an ass that he thought his son is named samuel?

i love seungmin s character here, no one can change my name ugh. oh dbuh lovegame anon approved him na :>> lakas talaga. the tiktok that lovegame anon shared OMGGG NO. seungmin is adorable periodt. no. true, slc really showed his character development omaygad. seungmin king. seungmin lang. seungmin lahat.

regarding the rat, i still don t know who tf lmfao. initially, i suspected jisung. plus the fact that he literally gave away a ticket that could probably serve me a whole year to hyunjin. AND Y/N ,, OMG HE HAS 2 OF THOSE, NOTE THAT. i thought that it s a way to steal hyunjin s art while he s gone and stuff like that ya know. bUT i remember that hyunjin stated that jisung is filthy rich so idk anymore. anyways, i STILL AND WILL FOREVER doubt it d be seungmin. i just feel it. it s not him guys lolololol

🍕 try listening to opm AAAAAAA kiyo, alisson shore. shortone are my :">>> used to listen to them during my sad gurl phase bc why not. the lyrics are in filo but the melody itself is chill so i feel like you ll vibe with it. missed u 👉👈

btw i saw someone with pp hair here idk lol

how are you ash :33 i missed u 2 <3333

- ␈

WELCOME BACK 😭♥️ i missed you, hope you're alright and had a great long weekend or smth~ (sorry for the crazy updates and messy plotlines, i swear it'll all fall into place soon 😭)

JSHWJSHS true, i hate restaurants like that too (even though sometimes it's really just a name) i always look for descriptions or pictures too 😭. dw, i'm not rk either, i literally just searched up "fancy french menus" JSHWJSHWH—oh the things i research for fanfiction~

WONBI 💀💀. seungmin isn't chismoso 💔. but yeah, they needed that privacy and final confrontation, and i doubt it'd be comfortable to do with three other outsiders (even though they're all just family). THE WAITER PLS. I REALLY WANTED TO DO THAT BIT 🙈

yah, y'all always sus everyone in this fic, i'm used to it now.

PLS he wasn't asking for one but lmfao 😭 hyunlix ship then mayhaps~ would've been cute if felix isn't straight up backstabbing him— in fact, all of their friend group's interactions are lowkey cute if you don't think about the fact that there's some sneaky shit going on in the background 💔💔💔

p.s. !! samuel is hyunjin's english name irl!! 👁👁 from when he lived in the states for a bit as a child iirc. there's def gonna be some backstory as to why his dad calls him by his english name instead but i think you can already get the gist as to why.

pizza anon still susses out jisung 💀 so who knows, maybe one of y'all is right. YEAH HE'S FILTHY RICH, that's the newest jisung revelation, and he's so humble about it too, kinda, idk. like, according to jae's research, that's almost 20k dollars just for two people to look at "drawings in walls"— which, in our currency, is almost one million pesos 🥵🥵🥵🥵 bruh. this is some real rich rich people shit (p.s. i didn't mean to make it THAT expensive, i was just dumb LMFAO). also not your seungmin bias showing, there's still a chance it's him yk 😭

also for the record, the bangs already grew out, i don't have pp hair anymore 🤨🤨🤨, besides, i keep my hair tied up here cuz its so HoT pls.

i'm good uwu, glad to be back home~ we're in the same timezone na yehey, hope you're good too! glad you're able to send asks again, i missed ur wild thoughts 😙

#slc talks #anon: bub stop.#anon: lovegame #pizza anon #anon:🍕

1 note · View note

dexiao · 4 years

Text

Play me (m) | Part 1 of 2

Gif originally posted by @weishenkun

Synopsis: Living with Kun was perfectly fine until he tried to teach you how to play the guitar

Pairing: Qian Kun x female reader

Words: 1k

Genre: roommate!au, smut (oral, safe sex), fluff

A/N: This is my first fic in English and it is not my native language, so if you find any mistakes pls let me know! Smut will be all on part 2, hope you enjoy it :)

This is a work of fiction. It does not portray the real personality of the member.

Going to college was my dream since I was a child. Born in an Argentine family that struggled with money, I was always grateful for the help I got from my teachers - sometimes by lending a book, giving extra explanation when I needed and even helping with my college application. So, with a warm heart, I chose to major in pedagogy.

The first months were really tough. I had to share an apartment with 3 people I didn’t know before for a whole semester and it really pissed the hell out of me. My sleep was all fucked up and it was hard to focus on my studies at home, so I stayed until late night at the library. That was before I moved in with Kun.

Just like me, he was born in a family of foreigners – his parents came from China – and was an art student. To be precise, we only met because we’re foreigners.

In the middle of last semester, he needed help composing a song that had to have at least one third of its lyrics in Spanish. Fortunately, we had a friend in common that suggested him to try asking for my help, since I knew a lot of Spanish because of my family. It took us three encounters to finish the lyrics and we became friends from that. Just friends, two people who got along.

We knew each other for about three months when I moved to his apartment. His previous roommate had to go back to his hometown and the rent was almost the same as I was paying before – but this time, I could have peace.

Since both our classes were during the daytime, we almost always had dinner together, eating in front of the TV and talking about our lives. On Mondays and Wednesdays, I had tennis practice, so Kun cooked. I did the same on the days he went to the gym and we cooked together on other days. Kun really was a sweetheart.

Tonight, he promised to teach me how to play the guitar.

It was Wednesday, so when I got home Kun was already cooking as I went for a quick shower. Fresh out of the bathroom and with my hair still dripping water, I just slipped into a pair of yellow shorts and a black tank top, with a sports bra underneath.

We ate while watching the latest episode of Itaewon Class and I told Kun about how my coach tried to kill me during the practice.

“I mean, my thighs were so tense that even when I was showering the muscles were still contracted.” I said, putting my legs up and straight so Kun could look at them.

Kun looked at my thighs and nodded.

“They surely look more muscular than usual." He laughed, making me blush, though I love my thighs.

Kun went to his room to get the guitar while I took the dishes to the kitchen. As I headed back to the living room, I met Kun holding the guitar.

“I think it’d be more comfortable to play on the bed, if that’s ok for you.” He said shyly.

“Yeah, sure.”

We entered his bedroom and sat on his bed facing each other. Kun first explained what each part of the guitar was – body, neck, strings, frets, etc. and then positioned the guitar carefully in my arms.

“So, when you play a song in the guitar, you actually play a sequence of chords, and a chord is a combination of notes. When you hold a string in a fret and play it, you play a note” he explained, playing the third string while pressing it in different frets to show me how it worked. I nodded and tried to replicate what he just did, but Kun only released a nasal laugh and it was enough to understand that I was doing it wrong.

“Here, let me show you.” He smiled, crawling on the bed and seating behind me, his legs spread on each side of my body. He grabbed my hands with his own and positioned them the right way, paying especial attention to the left.

“You have to be careful because touching other strings can drown the sound or make it sound completely different than what you want”. I could feel his breath on the left side of my head as he taught me what to do. “Let’s try a simple chord here, the A chord. Everything will be on the second fret. Place your first finger on the fourth string, second finger on the third string and third finger on the second string.” He instructed. “Now play.”

As I played the strings, I tried to pay attention to Kun’s reaction, but it was hard since I couldn’t see nor hear him. That made me surprised when he grabbed my hands again, pushing them down so he could play. Involuntarily, I jolted at his touch, my back straight on his torso.

"Oh-"

“Oops, I'm sorry." He laughed. "This is how it should sound, but in the beginning it is really hard to press the chords since we have weak fingers.” He said. My heart was still beating fast from the pseudo scare and his breath hitting the base of my neck didn’t help. When I tried to take a deep breath, all I could smell was his perfume.

“Well, I guess that’s it for today. I can keep teaching you other chords and soon you will be able to play some songs if you want.” He said, letting go of my hands but not moving from his place.

I put the guitar to the side and got up from the bad, but Kun reached for the guitar and held it in front of himself even before I could turn to face him again. His cheeks were red.

“Thank you, Kun. I really enjoyed it and I think it would be fun to keep learning.” I said happily, but feeling my face become red at the sight of Kun.

Am I going crazy or he’s just hiding his boner?

#qian kun smut #wayv smut #wayv kun #wayv #kun fic #wayv fic #kun smut #qian kun x reader #qian kun #masterlist #mine

44 notes · View notes

riskeith · 3 years

Note

omg hi. sorry i disappeared for a few days, been super busy with school. i missed you a lot. how have you been?

i haven’t had the need to eat any food since i got barbara and noelle on my team. if one of them can’t shield, the other comes in a clutch haha. *bows* thank you ladies for your service.

i’d pay hard earned money to see fanart with the boy scouts playing with guoba.. :( and YEAH. that would be so fitting? + it’s gonna be liyue themed which is super nice. do you know any predictions over which four stars will be in xiao’s banner? and who do /you/hope will be there?

last time i played three days ago unlocked dragonspine.. i even did albedo’s quest i can’t believe i defeat that evil place sjshdksk. meaning i got so some primogems and some intertwined fate. i’ve been itching to use some of the intertwined fates to get xiangling c rate up... should i?

october 20 is such a cute bday. you know how some dates just look nice? that’s one of them shskdhs. i want to say my birthday too but i feel like if anyone reads our messages they’ll know who i am... sorry. you’ll have to wait for that information until we privately talk some day. big promise. 🤍

ooh. you kind of wing it too, then! in some ways. if you’re not feeling it do you leave the fic for the day after or give up on it for a while? (so many question... shut up @ me) i’m the same as you! but i also write sometimes in the day time and i feel like that’s when i produce my best work. yesterday i was at a cafe studying and during a break i just started writing a fic and for some reason it just flowed so nicely? so yeah idk skdjdhsk. whenever it strikes i suppose.

i do borrow my books sadly. i kind of have to because i don’t have anymore place to put my books (we live in a small apartment) and books are kind of expensive :( i don’t mind borrowing though because i don’t really reread books unless they’re super special so it’s fine. do you buy yours? I HAVE READ LEGEND. i read it waaaay back in grade school haha, it’s been ages ago. i’ve never seen anyone say it’s their favorite but i can see why you feel that way. it’s kind of underrated in the community for sure.

dude fuck... chongyun and xingqiu live in my mind rent free. i kid you not i just can’t stop thinking about those boys... please send me all the fanart you find i’ll literally give you my life for that <3

i just listened to the g-idle song and AAA? wtf? i used to really like them while i was into kpop and this is so nostalgic to me. i haven’t listened to kpop in literally years shdkdhdk. this song is great thank you for sending it, do you like g-idle? <3

WAIT ARE YOU MAKING A SECOND ACC? I WAS LITERALLY CONSIDERING DOING ONE IN ASIA FOR YOU... shdjdhdjshsjsj our minds. and yes i’m in american server... oh god. our co-op date can happen? 🥺 but if it’s too much work for you i’ve seriously actually considered doing one in asia for me i’m totally fine with starting all over so.. 🥺

god i’ve missed talking to you so much. once again i’m sorry for not being here, but hopefully after tomorrow’s exam school will be a bit more chill and i’ll be yours again.

hope you’ve been well babe. mwah!

hi!! that’s alright ahah, i assumed that was the case. i’ve been well!! and then not so well bc we weren’t talking 🤪 needless to say i’ve missed you a lot too <333

omggg QUEENS!!! i don’t have any healers but i don’t eat food either... LMFAO unless it’s a boss fight i’ll just keep going until i’m done with whatever it is then go heal at a statue fsdhfkdjs

!!! brb just gonna go get good at art so i can draw that for u 😩 i don’t have any predictions myself, but i’ve seen people say it’ll be ningguang + beidou + barbara possibly?? but of course, i would hope that xingqiu was there <3333 he can appear twice in a row come on mhy <3333 just think about that <333 and omggg i’d wish if chongyun came as well.. i really want to get him to c6 (but he was only two banners ago?) hbu do you have any thoughts on the matter~

AHAHAH good job im proud of you 😤😤 show that nasty place who’s boss!! if you want to, I don’t see why not! it’ll get you closer to pity as well so by the time venti is near, hopefully it won’t take you much to get him! lmk how it goes!!!! manifesting c6 xiangling for you 🔥

fhskdf thank you... is it weird to say i agree? FHDSKFHSDKFKJ like. 20/10 or 10/20... nice even multiples of ten numbers.. AHAHAH. no need to apologise at all!! 🤍🤍🤍🤍 share whatever you’re comfortable with whenever you’re comfortable <33

hm it depends. (i just reaslised i said this exact phrasing last time too lmfao) i think i usually give up on it for a while? but sometimes i try to force myself through it too, just to get over that section so i can hopefully move on to a better one wait sorry i misread your question LOL. i usually leave it for the day as opposed to give up on it for a while! if i’m actively working on something i’d prefer to continue working at it slowly, even if the progress is just me opening the doc and then exiting after 5 mins fhdskj. are you the same? (NO!!! DO NOT SHUT UP @ YOU i never get to talk about writing processes pls im enjoying this a lot)

nice!! the vibes when writing during the day are sometimes better as well, bc it’s still light and stuff you’re not sitting in the dark or with a light on.. lol. it’s more ~natural~ & omg legendary... i love that for you!! on that note, do you usually study at school/cafes/libraries? i pretty much can only study at home, i hate doing it anywhere else.

ahh that’s fair :( and yeah i agree books can get so expensive? like the authors def deserve to be compensated for all their hard work but damn lmao. oh that’s a good point! i do buy books yeah, and i don’t even necessarily reread them i just like having them on the shelf fhdskfd (there are many i haven’t even read for the first time... oops.) what ages do grade school cover? sorry i have no idea what that means fhsjfkshsdkjs the different names for education levels will never not confuse me. !! yeah i really wish legend was more popular aaaaa

here are some recent arts i’ve bookmarked!! (rip i should find one more so every word is linked but cbs hfskdhfs) i’m also considering making a genshin twitter! idk why i’m so averse to following these amazing accs on my normal account lmaoo but i’m also thinking of posting pics from the 52485 photoshoots i do with chongyun..

oh nice!!! i’m really happy you liked it 🥰🥰🥰 and yeah i do like g-idle but i don’t stan them! that’s me with most groups tbh fshkfjsd but i do watch most of their MVs when they first come out~

FSHFKJSDHFKSD wait what if.. this but it’s us surprising each other in the other’s servers <33 and if i’m telling you the truth... i kinda despise the idea of playing in am*rica server FHSDKJFHSDKFHSDKKDSHFKSDHKKJ but we could compromise and both start again in europe?? ahah let me know what you think! if you’re happy to just do one in asia tho that’s fine as well~

me too!! and no worries for real, school comes first!! (even if it fkn sucks... @ school i hate you. i say, when i’m still on holidays FHDSKJFJS) aaaa good luck on your exam!!! i hope you smash it 💪💪

also um “and i’ll be yours again”??!?!?!?!? be still my beating heart 😩😩😩😩 i shall be waiting for you wifey hehe

hope you’ve been taking care of yourself!! kisses, c.r.

#marriage anon #wowclunaanswers #long post

1 note · View note

kouzaires · 4 years

Note

For the ask game, answer all the questions you want to answer! I'm curious about the answers to all of them, but I'm not gonna ask them all, so you can just decide which ones you want to answer :)

AJDHDJDHKS THANK U FOR THIS FREEDOM. feel free to ask other questions or follow ups bc i super love talking abt my fics huhu <3

A: Of the fanfic you’ve written, which is your favorite and why?

OKAY i know most of u follow me for botw but my absolute favorite fic is the one i wrote for the end of haikyuu’s manga run, “there’s a mountaintop (that i’m dreaming of)”!!!! haikyuu will always have such a huge piece of my heart and i was so happy that i got into fic writing bc it let me express my love for the series in a creative way <3 i wrote it in like three days at an intense speed (for me), and i love that it’s able to resonate with other fans too!

F: Is there a song or a playlist to associate with [insert fic]?

most of my fics rn are titled based on cool songs that get stuck in my head!!!!! so id really love it if ppl listen to the specific songs i mention in the author’s notes because i usu play them on repeat while writing for certain vibes

H: How would you describe your writing style?

always, always evolving. all my old works are simultaneously stuff i could never replicate and yet absolutely brimming with stupid mistakes, so rereading old work is kind of odd for me.

J: What’s your favorite fanfic trope? Have you written it?

i mean i’m pretty into coffee shop aus (and to an extent, university aus) and yall know how that turned out HAHAHAHA!! but in general i have a Lot of fave tropes, not all of which i’ll probably end up writing about.

L: Which of your fanfics was the most emotionally challenging to write?

definitely “how does your garden grow?”, the ongoing mipha fic. it took me months to finish bc the last few chapters have so many intense scenes that i wasn’t always emotionally ready to write. plus, the fic itself was also rly long and i did struggle with tying together everyone’s motivations and storylines in a coherent way. but i’m glad i finished it before my summer ended!!!

N: Any fic ideas brewing that you’d care to share?

i have a couple, but they’re all for the haikyuu fandom and i dunno if u guys can relate lol. i’m taking a break from botw fics for now!!

O: What are your thoughts on people writing fanfic of your fanfic? / S: How do you feel about fan art inspired by your writing?

I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER AND EVER. FOR REAL. I ABSOLUTELY SUPPORT ANY OF THIS AS LONG AS YOU INFORM ME ABOUT IT SO I CAN SHOWER YOU WITH LOVE!!!!!

Q: Do you like getting prompts from your readers?

i dont mind it i guess? but only if they understand that i might not necessarily use them, or i could use them but for a different fandom or story. my writing is really heavily dependent on my personal interest to write a particular story, so i find it difficult to write solely bc another person told me to.

V: Are there certain comments you’ve received on your stories that have stuck with you?

all of them. but very specifically, the comments that talk about emotions or how the reader actually felt are my absolute favorites bc the idea that i was able to touch another person’s heart is just akdhdkhdlsjsl

Y: What are your thoughts on your personal satisfaction with something you’ve written vs. the popularity of your stories? Do you tend to be most satisfied with your most popular stories?

well, i haven’t written so much that you could call it a trend exactly, but as of now it does seem like the stuff i was most passionate about also became the most popular. although i dunno how it’ll go with the mipha fic, because so far it’s not getting a lot of hits even if i poured so much time and effort into it y’know? then again, it really picks up in the latter chapters so eh

Z: Is there a story you’ve written that doesn’t seem to get much love?

as i mentioned, the mipha fic isn’t doing so well right now, though i’m hoping it’s just bc it’s unfinished at the moment!! aside from that, i also have to say the haikyuu goodbye fic? bc while it is my most popular story (given the large fandom size), i also think it’s not getting as much exposure as it could simply bc it’s a gen work and not shippy. plus, my tumblr post about it got almost zero notes so uh sad

bless u for asking me!! to everyone: pls feel free to join my ask memes huhu i love doing these things

#ask #ask meme #coffeeverse au #kinda

2 notes · View notes

yeoldontknow · 5 years

Note

kat! love your all your fics you're an amazing writer! can you share some writing tips for amateur writers out here?

hi anon writing advice tag if youre looking for like...more specific answers? when it comes to writing, its a very subjective experience when it comes to finding inspiration, outline style, word choice, etc but theres a few things i think across the board are important to remember.

going under a cut to not clog dashes

- consume as much media as you can. ex: books, music, film etc. i know for me personally im most inspired when im consuming art. i literally cannot write without music, like its genuinely so difficult because i pace my writing against the soundtrack of each scene. and the filtering, editing, and direction style of films/tv series i like will influence, in some manner, how the fic looks in my mind. yes, your plot and characters are found/uncovered in your brain and heart, but these other mediums assist in your interpretation of how youd like to express it and will help inspire the way you describe certain things. so dont be afraid to step back from a doc to consume other forms of art. for me, at least, its really important.

- keep writing and dont let yourself stop. once you decide you want to write a fic or drabble or whatever comes to mind, write it. and once that is done, write more. this is how you develop a style. you will notice the more you practice, the easier it gets. OR you will notice the more you write, the more evolved your writing becomes. this is how you form a style. here is an example:

an excerpt from a series i was writing in 2011 in a different fandom:

No one tells you what it’s like to go insane. No one talks about it because, we, as a society, understand the chemistry and the biology of it, but we don’t understand the feeling of it. Time had started to compress, slipping around me in a computerized metronome of blood flow and heart beats that had started to tell me nothing except that I was still living. They hadn’t strapped me to the bed, but I still couldn’t leave and everything about the room started to feel like a cage. Sleep had eluded me since I was pulled out, and through the exhaustion and the haze of sameness I never knew exactly when I was beyond a date of 2266.

I was craving daylight - not the vitamin D, as I was being given a healthy dose of daily vitamins through an IV drip - the natural light and the natural warmth of it, all over my face and skin. The ceiling lights of the room provided an element of ultraviolet light, but after so many hours the falsehood of an invention began to wear a person down. It’s something you never really think about, the sun, not until you don’t have it, not until you haven’t seen it for one hundred years.

But when one hundred years feels like three days or two weeks, time really stops mattering and then the sun itself doesn’t feel so important.

from Empty Vessels, posted july 2019:

For a while, they do not speak. Minseok looks longingly out over the water, hollowed, as the herbalist regards the dirt on her shoes with an empty stare. In the silence, Junmyeon minutely nods, the bare threads of his patience allowing them space to find their words. Images spring to his mind, all imagined and none wholly formed, each as bleak and battered as the crow in Chanyeol’s arms. He wonders what Minseok has seen, unable to avoid with a clarity bordering on entrapment; he wonders what she has heard, whispers on the wind of a life he thought he’d left behind.

‘The trees are screaming,’ she announces, eyes still downcast though her voice is sharp; blunt as the edge of a sword and equally as unforgiving. ‘They’re in pain.’

It settles over him, slow and uncompromising, the notion that trees could make sound - that they would choose to. The oldest wisdom lingers in their branches, and for one brief moment, he sees her as someone as old as their roots.

i, at least, can see an enormous difference in quality and style and thats because ive been writing and writing and writing for a very long time lmao. in 2011 i was 3 years into writing fanfic consistently; at that time, too, i was still working towards my degrees and writing daily for film analysis projects. the more you write, the more you evolve so please please please dont stop just because you feel you arent experienced enough. confidence and style will come over time, just keep yourself in practice.

- NOTES MEAN ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. notes on tumblr are a hot take - and while, yes, there is a need for more reblogs and more sharing of content, focusing on statistics will drive you to the brink. joseph gordon levitt released a ted talk last week on how seeking attention is detrimental to your creativity and LORD this is such a good talk because its true. one of the things he discusses is how powerful the feeling of receiving attention - in this case, notes on a fic - drives someone toward output, but is that genuine? now, of course theres always going to be different scenarios or opinions but if you are just starting out with writing please dont post a fic under the assumption or expectation of achieving a note goal. there are so many variables as to what gets notes and what does not - from algorithm to how many people are online to see it to timing to content like you cannot predict what will or will not correspond to x number of notes and x number of followers.

instead of setting note or follower goals, set word count goals. when i first started writing for kpop i was actually a pretty concise writer. if you look at the early chapters of hero and wyrm tamer, they all would peak around 4 or 5k words. achieving 10-15K on something seemed absolutely ridiculous and impossible to me - hell, 15K was 10K words under my masters thesis count! why would i want to write that much? but now? im shook if i finish a chapter or fic and the word count is just 4K. those word count goals are exciting for me.

nervous about word count goals? thats fine! set a goal to write a genre. always wanted to try high fantasy? dope! do it! want to write some sexy vampires? fuck yeah, everyone loves those! want to write a fic that helps you release some tension or trauma youve experienced? please do that, writing is therapy and has been scientifically proven to help.

set goals for making characters, world building, soundtracks, to learn photoshop to make a moodboard. set goals for all kinds of things but pls dont set goals for statistics because these are so variable and very often outside of your control they will very often suck any joy out of your creativity before its had the chance to start.

i hope these help!

#writing advice #the cutest anons!#Anonymous

6 notes · View notes

grelleswife · 5 years

Note

Where is everyone watching the musical version of Death Note? Who are A & B? I'm v confused, pls help?

Regarding the musical:

There are three versions: English (only released as a concept album), Japanese, and Korean. The English audio should still be available on YouTube. I was able to watch a bootleg recording of the the excellent Korean production on YouTube, but it has been taken down. :( I’ve seen clips of the Japanese production on YouTube, but I’m not sure about the full version. Fellow Death Note peeps, can anyone else answer this question?

Regarding A and B:

Several years ago, an author named Nisio Isin wrote a spin-off/prequel to Death Note, entitled Another Note, that describes how Naomi Misora helped L solve the Los Angeles B.B. Murder cases (thus becoming the agent who earned the detective’s trust). It turns out that the perpetrator of these serial killings was B (or Beyond Birthday), who was part of the first generation of Wammy’s kids. B cracked under the pressure placed on L’s potential successors, eventually losing his sanity. Thus, he imitates L’s appearance and mannerisms to an extreme degree and engages in bizarre behaviors such as eating jam with his bare hands. He is incredibly melodramatic and needy for attention, and we members of the Death Note fandom have adopted him as our beloved disaster trash son. Near the end of the novel, B attempts to commit suicide by setting himself on fire (hence the many references to burning often associated with him on Tumblr). He was also born with shinigami eyes, although Isin never explains the circumstances behind this unusual ability.

A was another first-generation Wammy’s kid who committed suicide because of the mental strain associated with the program. Very little else is known about A beyond this fact (even A’s gender is a bit of a mystery), but the fandom loves coming up with headcanons, art, and fics for this character. If you haven’t seen @puropoly ‘s concept art for A and B, I highly recommend you check it out!

Despite not being created by Ohba and Obata, Another Note is by and large acknowledged as canon. It has its fair share of plot holes and inconsistencies, but it’s a must-read for any Death Note fan, particularly if you’re a Naomi Misora stan.

I hope that helps!

#thanks for the ask!#death note #death note musical #beyond birthday #a #wammy's a #alphabet children #wammy's house #another note #labb #los angeles bb murder cases #naomi misora #l lawliet

70 notes · View notes

mikeshanlon · 6 years

Text

he’s all that: chapter one

fandom: it

pairing: reddie (richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak)

word count: 3.8k

on ao3

summary:

Richie smiled smugly, “You’ve got spunk Kaspbrak. I like that.”

“Why don’t you try shutting the fuck up Tozier,” Eddie retorted as the line moved forward, “So what is this, if not some ploy to get me to tutor you? Some sort of dork outreach program? Because I’m not interested.”

---

Or: The one where Richie Tozier has six weeks to get into a relationship and make someone fall for him. Only problem? That someone is the anxiety ridden, goody two shoes Eddie Kaspbrak, and he can't even stand to be in the same room as Richie.

warnings: there is drug use in that bev/mike/richie are HUGE stoners.

a/n: hello!!! hope you enjoy this fic, i will try to update it at least every other sunday (i'll figure out the exact number of chapters before i post chapter two, but it probably won't be more than 10). you don't need to have watched she's all that to get this, although there will be some small easter eggs/quotes from the movie. but the movie has not aged well and is very Heteronormative so like.... no need to watch it lmao.

Senior year— it was what just about any kid in the public schooling system looked forward to. You were high school royalty, enjoying the last hurrah with booze and dancing before being sent off to make your mark on the world. Lanky limbs that weren’t yet grown into became muscled and toned, hips were wider and swayed. Brains were wiser, skin was touched more, and smiles were brighter. It was a time of transformation and change.

Except, senior year was almost over, and Richie Tozier felt like he hadn’t really changed at all. Sure, in the last four years he shot up to 6’2, his voice was deeper, and he wasn’t such a fucking outcast; but really nothing else felt different. He still only passed his classes on genius alone, had a problem respecting authority figures (partially due to the fact that his parents were still pieces of shit), and never knew when to shut the fuck up.

Derry, Maine itself stayed the same too, like a town in a snow globe encased with mom-and-pop businesses and ignorance. Other than iPhones, the small Starbucks on the corner of Main and Belmont, and the fact that the townspeople were slightly less homophobic and racist (slightly being the operative word); Derry was pretty much a time capsule for banana bikes, bullies, and double features with popcorn that had too much salt and not enough butter.

Take the cliques and social hierarchy-- a staple in any American high school, especially one in a small town. Despite it being the 21st century, the cafeteria still had tables for jocks, geeks, nerds, and preps, straight from some 80’s or 90’s teen flick.

Richie, like most things in his life, didn’t necessarily fit into one group or the other, toeing the line between social pariah and popular party dude. He supposed it was the side effects of being the class clown with too-big-for-his-face glasses, a diagnosis for ADHD, and his tendency blazing at any given moment. Funny and wild enough to show up to any party, but not exactly cool enough to hang out with for anything else.

Honestly, it didn’t matter either way, because instead of worrying about what table to eat the cafeteria’s barely edible food at, Richie usually spent his lunch smoking with his friends. It was time to catch up and unwind before the last few classes of the day— and there was no way he could get through chemistry without being high.

As soon as the shrill bell rang, Richie hopped out of his seat, grabbing his shit before placing his (probably failed) history quiz on the teacher’s desk on his way out into the halls.

He weaved through the couples sucking face and the worried AP students, his unruly black curls bouncing like a hyperactive halo around his head as he walked towards his locker.

“‘Sup Tozier!” someone called out to him, a familiar face at the weekend ragers, although he never learned his actual name.

Richie nodded, “Hey, what’s up Keg King?”

“Not much. Hey, you coming to see me defend my title this weekend?”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” Richie smiled lazily, patting the other boy on the back before strolling along.

It wasn’t a coincidence that his smile faltered as he passed what was left of the Bower’s gang. He and Hockstetter had graduated the year prior, although like most bumfuck racists hellbent on beating up ‘dorks and queers’, they stayed in Derry. The remaining two, Belch and Victor Criss, weren’t nearly as powerful or psychotic as their elders, but they had a reputation to uphold. They weren’t exactly slamming him down on the asphalt in front of the arcade like they did in middle school, but they weren’t friendly either. Mutual respect was even a stretch. He’d enjoy seeing them get their asses handed to them, and he was sure they felt the same.

Richie popped open his locker, catching the loose papers and pencils that inevitably fell out. A small mirror hung on the blue metal door, rendered practically useless because of all the smudges covering it. The remaining space was littered with stickers of indie bands, and post-its with doodles and notes to himself or from his friends.

Have a great day trashmouth <3- bevs

Sparknotes ‘Pygmalion’

Come to the quarry after school!-mike

It’s a good day to be gay

Next time u get drunk enough 2 facetime us reading the entire bee movie script pls invite us so we dont have 2 deal w/ that sober- b+m

Buy more cigs and weed

U lewk hott big sexxxi ;) - xoxo

Richie was unashamed to say he wrote the last one to himself one day when he looked particularly good.

He struggled to stuff his history folder into the looming mess, but eventually crammed it in there, slamming the door shut before anything else could fall out.

After checking that he did indeed have his lighter, bag of weed, and papers in his denim jacket, Richie made his way to their usual spot. They liked to smoke at the stairs behind the art room, which was tucked away in the back of the school, overlooking the field that separated them and the middle schoolers.

Throwing open the orange door to the stairs in his usual dramatic fashion, he found his two closest friends, “Ms. Marsh, Lord Michael, how fare thee chaps today?” Richie greeted in his (awful) british accent.

Beverly Marsh rolled her eyes as she lit her joint, “Fine, until I heard that horrible voice.”

Richie threw a hand on his chest, a pained expression painted on his face, “Oh, how you hurt me so.”

“Hey, I mean it is his best impression,” Mike Hanlon commented from the steps, fist bumping Richie as he sat down across from Beverly on the top of the stairs, back to the railing. The sweet boy lit up the bowl in his pipe, inhaling deeply.

“Aw, thank you Mikey, you sure know how to make a girl swoon,” he cooed, mimicking a southern belle.

“Well, you don’t really have any good one’s in the first place,” Mike smirked, blowing out the smoke in his mouth while Beverly snorted, taking another drag.

Richie rolled his eyes, taking out his bag of weed, “Fuck off Hanlon.”

Mike extended an olive branch in the form of paper lunch bag filled with a sandwich, chips, and a can of coke. It was a daily occurrence for them— the Tozier’s rarely had any food, and even if Richie wanted to eat from the cafeteria, he didn’t exactly get a lot of money from them.

“My upcoming munchies thank you dear friend.”

He opened his bag of weed, attempting to balance the paper on his knees so he could roll his own joint. This failed miserably as the weed fell out, getting all over his Radiohead t-shirt.

“Shit.”

Beverly sighed, holding out her hand, “Let me roll it Tozier, you and I both know I’m better at it anyways.”

“What?! I’m perfectly capable of doing it by myself. I roll a damn good joint Marsh,” he shot back incredulously.

She plucked a stray piece of weed and gave him a pointed look. Richie groaned before handing his stuff over, Beverly handing him her own joint to smoke on in the meantime.

“How’s your day been Rich?” Mike asked from his spot on the steps. Typical farm boy, concerned with his friends. Richie often wondered how such an angelic person hung out with him and Bev, but Mike had his fair share of rebellious traits.

“Ah, well, you can tell it’s been just dandy. I can’t wait till we get out of this fucking hell hole,” Richie scoffed before taking a hit.

“Only seven more weeks,” Beverly reminded, eyes and hands focused on rolling.

Mike nodded, “Crazy. Can’t believe we’re finally graduating.”

“Thank fucking god, Derry is a suffocating shithole,” he said, “I know I’m an idiot, but Jesus, everyone here is a fucking bigot.”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed, not saying much else. They understood. It was hard being one of the only black kids in school, let alone pansexual (although most people didn’t know this about him). The prejudice he faced wasn’t something he often spoke about, trying to be as positive as possible.

“This kid in english was saying bisexuals are sluts today,” Richie successfully blew a few smoke rings, “Like, I am one, but not because of my sexuality, asswipe.”

Bev laughed humorlessly, handing Richie the freshly rolled joint and taking back her own, “No need to tell me what that’s like.”

No, the redhead had been getting called a slut over nothing since the seventh grade; the rumors and shaming only getting worse when she too came out as bi.

A comfortable and reflective silence fell over the three, occupied with their thoughts and getting high. Richie placed the joint in between his chapped lips; struggling to light the tip as his white lighter sputtered, on it’s last moments of life. Mumbled expletives fell out of his mouth before he was successful, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in before letting it all escape.

His dark brown eyes scanned the poorly maintained sports field, filled mostly with middle schoolers running around and yelling. Part of him envied the carefree nature of it all, but the other remembered how fucking shitty middle school was and any jealousy washed away.

Not too far from them was what was dubbed as ‘the kissing tree’. The old trunk was littered with carvings, initials surrounded by hearts claiming that their love was ‘forever’. It was juvenile, small town as fuck, and heteronormative— though most things surrounding romance in Derry were.

Of course, Richie had been obsessed with it as a preteen, and knew his own name was on there (a few times).

What caught his eye now were the couple under it, making out passionately, flush against one another, like if they stopped they’d die.

Honestly, that would be preferable, as one of them was Gretta Keene, one of Richie’s biggest mistakes.

Gretta was one of the most popular girls in school, and she was also a grade A bitch. Her green eyes sent glares akin to daggers, and her lipgloss covered lips provided insults that went too far. Including frequently calling Beverly a slut.

It wasn’t like Richie had a huge crush on her or anything. Their relationship was merely born from constantly being at the same parties, cross faded and wanting a quick hook up to distract themselves. Mike had commented that it was only a matter of time, except one became many more, despite the fact that Gretta only got with jocks.

Their arrangement caused Bev to freeze Richie out for two months last semester, breaking their four year streak for best couples costume at Betty Ripsom’s annual Halloween Party. Bev was more important to him by a long shot, but per usual, he kept fucking everything up.

Most of their ‘moments’ were shared in some stranger's bed, or dancing in a kitschy living room to pop music, sharing a blunt or swigs from a bottle of whiskey. None of it was on purpose, but rather a byproduct of being intoxicated and having a high sex drive.

In fact, they had only been on two actual dates when they were together. The first was at the drive-in a town over, the pair sat in Richie’s beat up station wagon, some shitty b-movie playing on the large projector. Gretta shared a pack of cigarettes with him, and it was probably the only kind thing she had ever done. Richie tried to make conversation, so that their relationship actually had some sort of substance other than weed and alcohol; but Gretta quickly shut him up, sticking her cherry coke flavored tongue down his throat.

He took her out to his favorite diner for their other date, figuring that they might have a chance to actually get to know one another without an acceptable place to make out. They sat on opposite sides of a booth outlooking Main street, an old-timey song playing on the jukebox.

This plan proved to be a grave mistake, because Richie finally understood why Bev often said, “Satan himself thinks Gretta Keene is too cruel.”

He repressed the memory, if he remembered it he’d get too pissed off. Instead, Richie thought of their break-up, how she had beat him to the punch.

He had been waiting at her locker, leaning against #405 and picking at his nails, humming a song by The Smiths under his breath. Gretta approached, clad in a pink mini-skirt and a tight crop top, smacking her half-priced bubblegum.

Richie cleared his throat, standing upright, ready to chew her the fuck out for being such a horrible person, “Gretta, let’s talk—“

“We’re through Tozier.”

“What the fuck?!” He had gaped at her, “No, I was going to breakup with you!”

Gretta shooed him away with her manicured hands, “Please, you’re a fucking nobody. Irrelevant. You should be glad we even fucked around this long.”

A small crowd had formed around the two, “You’re the one who kept coming back for more.”

“And you’re the one who actually thought this could be something. So cute. But I don’t date losers and I don’t date attention-whores like you.”

Like he said, grade A bitch.

“Jealous?” Mike snapped Richie from his thoughts.

His cheeks reddened, embarrassed that he was caught staring, “What? No. I pity the poor bastard that’s with her. Fucking breath smells like a fucking dog ate a pack of Winston’s. Straight up ass.”

Beverly chuckled, but her eyes held a little bit of resentment, “You used to smoke those Winston’s with her.”

“I thought we had an agreement that we would never speak of the Great Gretta Keene Mistake again?”

“Sure, but you’re the one watching her,” Mike pointed out, packing a new bowl, “Missing the one that got away?”

The other boy’s tone was joking but Richie sent him a glare, “She’s fucking irrelevant to me okay?”

They hummed in agreement, but he could see the slight doubt on their faces.

Richie ripped open his bag of chips and threw one in his mouth, “She thinks she’s such hot fucking shit, but she’s so replaceable.”

“Richie, it’s rude to speak with your mouth full,” Mike admonished his bad manners.

“That’s not what your ol’ pops said last night when I was suck-“

“Beep beep, Richie,” Mike warned.

Bev shook her head, “Really Rich? His grandpa?”

“When opportunity strikes,” he flashed a shit eating grin before taking another hit.

“Anyways, while I second the sentiment that Gretta isn’t all that, you haven’t exactly had a relationship since her,” Bev accused.

“Okay, what the fuck is this, ‘pick on Richie day’?” he said, readjusting his position, “Besides, I’ve been with plenty of other people.”

“Please, this isn’t middle school, and I’m still not buying the whole ‘my bedpost is covered in notches’ bit,” Bev inspected the joint between her fingers, now just a stub.

“Well, obviously it’s not. I’ve had sex in many different beds. Yours included,” Richie smirked.

“Beep beep. You know you aren’t allowed over after you almost burned down my aunt’s apartment.”

“The apartment was fine. Everyone knows if you put the temperature up super high food cooks faster. Those tater-tots would’ve been delicious. Bon-appetit,” Richie spoke in a poor french accent, and his eyes widened, “Bon-appetot. Bon-appetatertot.”

He fell into a fit of giggles and Mike chuckled across from him.

“You are a walking disaster Richie Tozier,” Bev said, though an amused smile sat on her lips.

“Richie’s poor life choices aside… One night stands and drunken make out sessions don’t count,” Mike returned to their previous topic, “I mean something sort of serious. Something you put effort into.”

“I don’t put effort into anything Michael dear,” Richie countered.

“Not true. You put effort into a lot of dumb shit,” Bev put out her joint, “Like when you tried to climb the water tower at 3 am naked. Or the time you tried to get the principal to grind with you at homecoming.”

“You can’t blame me for that. Mrs. Marton is a vixen. Can’t believe she resisted my charms.”

Mike laughed, shaking his head, “Point is, it kinda seems like you’re stuck in a rut.”

“I get plenty of action,” Richie boasted, taking a drag from his joint, “Plus, I could make any girl or guy in this piece of shit school fall in love with me.”

“That a bet?” Bev grinned mischievously.

“You know what, why the fuck not?” Richie shrugged. He was bored, and he wanted his friends off his fucking back, “Terms and conditions?”

“Mike and I get to choose the sorry fuck who you’ll be pursuing—“

“No, I don’t wanna be a part of this. Isn’t it kinda fucked up? Getting with someone for a bet? Why don’t you just try to date someone without an ulterior motive?” Mike suggested.

Richie rolled his eyes, adopting an Australian accent, “Now where’s the fun in that mate?”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You get till prom to sweep this person off their feet. A committed relationship, not just a hookup. If you win I’ll get you a shit ton of the finest weed the county can offer,” Bev continued, “If you lose—“

“No need to tell me, because I won’t fail,” Richie smirked, “I’m a total knockout.”

Bev’s face mirrored his own, “Fine, it’s your funeral.”

Both of them spit into their palms before shaking their hands, bonding the bet.

“C’mon, let’s go find them— you only have six weeks.”

The three of them packed up their shit, passing around the rest of Richie’s joint so it wouldn’t go to waste before they headed inside. Bev spritzed some perfume on them in an attempt to mask the smell of weed, making Richie smell fruity and floral. He popped a stick of spearmint gum in his mouth, deciding to save his sandwich for AP Calc next block.

It was a rare occurrence for them to roam the halls before the lunch bell rang, so a few of the students stared at them as they went on their search. Mike smiled at just about everyone they passed, a fucking angel per usual.

“What about him, he’s kinda cute,” Bev suggested, nodding her head to a blonde boy holding a skateboard.

Richie shook his head, “We made out at that beach bonfire over the summer. He almost vommed in my fucking mouth. The money maker! These beautiful lips are fuckin sacred— how could I smooch and tell amazing jokes if he fucked em up? These babies ooze charisma and sex appeal.”

“More like ooze bullshit,” Mike quipped.

“I think you’re just jealous that you won’t be the one I’m wooing Mike n Ike.”

Bev snorted, “I pity the poor fuck who you’ll be annoying till prom,” her eyes lit up, and she turned to Mike, “Hey, we might be able to enjoy some peace and quiet for a while!”

“The minute we became best friends with Richie I gave up all hope for tranquility.”

“Hey!” He protested, although Mike was right.

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” the other boy finished sweetly.

Richie planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek, “Oh Mikey, you are the most wholesome-est boy I ever did meet,” he slipped into his southern belle persona, “What about you Bevvy darlin’, got any words to butter up my biscuit? To milk my udder?”

She rolled her eyes and continued walking ahead of them, turning into another hallway.

“Fine, I know you love me Marsh,” Richie used his long lanky legs to his advantage, catching up to stroll alongside her quickly, “What about Betty Ripsom?”

Bev scoffed, “Please, too easy.”

“What?! She’s like, a good ol’ Christian girl. I’m a deviant! My skype username used to be tozier666! Or wait, it was tozier42069… I can’t remember.”

“C’mon Richie, we all know she had a massive crush on you freshman year,” Bev replied.

Mike nodded in agreement, “You wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Like most things,” Bev said, “Anyways, you’d just use that to your advantage. Although, I am liking the whole ‘polar opposite’ approach.”

Richie groaned, of course he had a hand in his own misfortune.

They continued to travel the halls, Beverly’s baby blue eyes scouring for a victim.

“You sure are digging your own grave today Rich,” Mike commented.

Richie nodded, “R.I.P. Richard Tozier. Big Mouth and even Bigger Wan—“

“Found ‘em,” Bev interrupted, a grin on her face.

She pointed down the hallway in front of them, where two boys conversated as everyone walked around them. The taller one had auburn hair, and was lanky like Richie, although the other boy seemed a little more muscular. The other looked like a fucking middle schooler, and Richie wasn’t sure how the little brat even got in there.

It took a minute, but Richie realized that he did actually recognize them. They didn’t interact much, not being in the same circles, but the two boys had been going to school with him since the days of recess. And they had been bullied since then too.

So, correction, she pointed to where two of the biggest losers in school were talking about what was presumably some nerdy shit. Great.

“What, Big Bill?” Richie raised an eyebrow, “He’s not too bad. Ignore the stutter and the fact that he’s best friends with total dorks and you have a shy lil cutie. Nice handiwork Marsh.”

“You know, you’re a total dork and we’re still friends with you,” Mike quipped, his own way of chastising Richie.

Bev shook her head ‘no’, “Not Denbrough, the other one.”

Richie’s eyes settled on the smaller boy, and the realization that he was totally and utterly fucked set in.

Eddie Kaspbrak. The kid peaked at 5’6, and his lack of muscles along with the fact that he wore an honest to fucking god fanny pack didn’t help his 12 year old boy appearance. Of course, the fanny pack got worse— it was full of pills, eye drops, hand sanitizer, lotion, chapstick, and most importantly, his inhaler. Yes, Eddie was a fucking asthmatic hypochondriac and germaphobe, with an equally insane mother. Richie didn’t doubt that the asshole spent more time perusing WebMD than texting or checking social media.

He wore chunky turtlenecks in the winter, and in the hotter months, his tanned legs adorned tube socks and short-shorts (they were awful, although Richie had to admit they made his ass look great). His small hands gripped onto his stuffed backpack (kid already had a fanny pack full of shit, what else did he have to bring to school?). Eddie’s brown hair was always found in a overly gelled comb over, not a hair out of place. He reminded Richie of an off-brand Fred Savage with severe anxiety.

Mostly, Richie knew Eddie Kaspbrak would hate just about every little thing he did. There was no way they’d even be friends, let alone anything more.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me Bev.”

a/n: thanks for reading!!! richie and eddie will actually talk next chapter, don't worry. also for any concerned about the gretta/richie thing it's not Too Big of a Deal as it is in the movie, i just need it for some plot points (but overall richie is like 100% over gretta and it was just something stupid he did).

#reddie #richie x eddie #it fic #reddie fic #he's all that #my fic #yeah idk what to tag this as go read it on ao3 wlnglerngerlgknrglkerng

159 notes · View notes

holidaysat221b · 7 years

Text

List of Sherlolly Prompts as of 10/11/2017 - One new one!

Here is a link to the very informal Sherlolly Prompt Fest FAQ

Below is the list of prompts submitted to @holidaysat221b. Where possible, we have tagged the submitter so that credit can be given if a prompt inspires someone to write a fic or create a piece of art.

Some submissions were specifically labeled as Art prompts, and they have been separated into their own category. However, if you are a fic writer and one of the art prompts calls to you, go for it. Likewise, if one of the other prompts makes you want to draw, have fun with it! Prompts that have been filled at least once will be followed with an *, in case that influences your decision to work with one.

We only ask three things:

1) If you use one of the prompts on this list, please remember to credit the prompt and prompter somewhere in your fic summary/art description or in your notes. It’s the polite thing to do.

2) Please submit an ask or message @holidaysat221b with a link to your work, the prompt you used, the prompter, and how you want to be identified (in cases where your Tumblr and fic/artist name are different). This will allow us to share your work with our followers and tag the prompter (if possible).

3) We have set up a Sherlolly Prompt Fest Collection on Ao3. If you are planning to post your fic or art on Ao3 and would like to add it to the collection, please do. As of this moment, the collection is open and unmoderated. Please remember to credit the prompt and prompter in your fic/art notes.

On to the Prompts as of October 11, 2017

Art

Art prompt: (I’ve wanted this like burning for five years, I’ll never give up asking) Sherlock and Molly, the cake scene from Sixteen Candles". Only in the morgue and Molly’s wearing the lab coat. - @sunken-standard *

Art prompt: Potter!lock. Don’t care if it’s student Sherlock and Molly in their house robes, teachers, wizarding professionals, a recreation of the Order of the Phoenix group photo with Sherlock characters instead. Whatever. Just as long as it’s Potter!lock. - @darnedchild

Art prompt: Molly and Sherlock’s first real date gets interrupted by a case. Are they dressed up for a fancy evening, or wearing something more suited to fish and chips and a walk around the park? - Anonymous

AU/Works that do not/will not fit in with the series current on-screen canon

Sherlock: A TV series featuring a hot guy with awesome deductive skills, his best friend the doctor, the exasperated detective inspector, the sweet landlady, and the pathologist. And no, the pathologist isn’t in love with the hot guy. - The Silent Fangirl

A post TRF fic, where Sherlock takes Molly with him, but they return to London a couple years later than in canon because Molly got pregnant along the way (or even twice), so now they are three/four of them instead of two? - @mychakk

“We had chips. She liked me.” – Sherlock in TLD. What could have been had he and Molly gotten chips in TEH: A kick to Tom’s butt. Happy greeting (a hug at least!) at the end of TEH. Quite a lot of sex with Sherlock instead of Tom. Molly the best man’s date. A (sophisticated. Or not) Molly/Janine cat fight for Janine hitting on SH moments. Dancing, so much Sherlolly dancing (and no leaving early). Probably no Shezza (Shezzer?)—which, hmm, is a shame (But maybe they’ve their own not-being-on-a-sex-holiday-but-sexing-a-lot time). A real proposal to Molly. Molly at family Christmas, maybe even a Christmas wedding. Solving CAM without the threat of exile sharpens Sherlock’s deductive abilities. No Norbury as Molly’s already expecting their first offspring, so Sherlock doesn’t taunt needlessly. Mary as the Sherlolly baby godmother as she’s alive! Culverton Smith is taken down by the duo of Mary and Molly while the latter gives birth there (because the ladies are awesome, plus Mrs H tackles him down). John is so impressed he doesn’t look at any other women. Molly’s big heart brings Eurus from her metaphoric plane the moment she steps into 221B, plus baby Holmes wins her heart too. The Holmes family reconciliation and Eurus is in therapy instead of being a multi-killer. Baker Street Boys Team continues while Baker Street Girls Team gives them a run for their money. Mycroft asks Lady Smallwood out himself to her astonishment and internal squealing. Mummy Holmes gets more grandkids than she could’ve imagined. And basically, everyone walks happily into the sunset. The End. Please note, some things can obviously be modified. - @mychakk *

AU: Molly runs away from home when her parents try to arrange a marriage for her. She wants to pursue a life that involves science and marry for love if she ever gets married at all. She meets Sherlock, who is being pressured by his family to marry a nice girl they found for him who loves science as much as he does. It will be interesting when they figure it out. - @shadowyqueenbeard

AU. Instead of dying, Mary actually does hide from Sherlock and John effectively and they don’t find her. Still wracked by guilt and worried he’ll never see her again, John still imagines her in his mind and Sherlock still goes after Culverton Smith … possibly both to save John and because maybe Smith knows something about where Mary went? To solve the mystery and bring Mary home, Sherlock and Molly team up. - @rooneykmara

Uni!lock Sally wakes Molly at 2 am because her junkie boyfriend of dorm 221b is streaking across campus calling her name, so she better stop denying that she’s his girlfriend. - @escaily

Crossovers/Works set in or inspired by another specific fictional universe (ie Potter!lock)

I’d really like to see a Daemon (from the His Dark Materials books by Philip Pullman) version of Series 3/TAB/Series 4 (any or all of those), especially when it comes to the ILY scene. - Kay

iZombie!Sherlock – Think of this, if Sherlock gets infected we have: 1) Sherlock with white hair 2) Sherlock getting brains from Molly “for experiments” 3) Sherlock getting different attitudes (hippie brain = hippie!Sherlock) 4) Paler than normal pale Sherlock 5) Sherlock with red bloodshot eyes. Also: If Molly Hooper gets infected, it’s like she’s the Liv Moore of Barts. Lestrade as Clive (and relieved to be not only depending on Sherlock to solve crimes). Sherlock deduces Molly’s hair color and tan (because Molly can’t show up to work with white hair, even whiter skin color, and very slow pulse rate). Major asshole Boss being the one shipping tainted Utopium to Britain. - The Silent Fangirl

Superwholock!Sherlolly - The Silent Fangirl

Doctor Who!Sherlock - Molly Hooper as a companion - The Silent Fangirl

Me Before You!Sherlock - The Silent Fangirl

Molly Hooper as “Mary Reilly”. - @darnedchild

Dracula!lock, but maybe mix it up just a little. Sherlock as the object of Dracula’s affections (Mina) and/or Molly as the vampire expert (Van Helsing)? - @darnedchild

Sherlock and Lady Molly of Scotland Yard. Molly Hooper as Lady Molly from “Lady Molly of Scotland Yard” with her crime solving partner Mary (Morstan). (Note from Mod - “Lady Molly of Scotland Yard” used to be available via BBC Radio 4 Extra on demand, you may still be able to find it online somewhere.) - @lullikiish

A Hades and Persephone AU with Molly as female Hades (the unrequited love at first, the proximity with death) and Sherlock as a male Persephone (the curiosity, the lack of eating). Irene would be a great Poseidon (the chaos provided by the ocean, the sailor knots). As for John, he would be a great Hermes! - Kay

Gimme “The Full Monty”, baby. Surely someone can find a reason to have Sherlock, John, and Greg get their kits off? Or Molly, Mary, and Sally? Mrs H could give professional pointers and tips to whomever you’re planning to get starkers. - Anonymous

A Sherlolly version of “It’s A Wonderful Life”. Sherlock gets to see what his loved ones’ lives would be like if he never existed, realizing the positive impact he had on them when he was alive. - @simplyshelbs16xoxo

Something similar to “The Ransom of Red Chief”, only in this version the kidnappers have figured out that Molly Hooper is a pressure point for Sherlock Holmes. They take her captive, intending to blackmail Sherlock or hold Molly for ransom; but Molly Hooper is having none of that nonsense. While Sherlock works to save her, Molly finds ways to torment, injure, and outwit her captors. Whether she escapes on her own, finds a way to let Sherlock and John know where she’s at, or ends up driving her kidnappers crazy to the point that they give up and send her back is up to the author. Could go humorous or dark very easily. - Anonymous

Clique/Sherlock Crossover - After the events of TFP, Molly Hooper (who is actually Jude McDermid) decides to go back to Edinburgh, broken-hearted & bound to continue the “family business” after years of running away from it. Gone is her long hair & colorful jumpers: she completely changed her look & have every information about Molly Hooper destroyed. Years passed, she forms the Solasta Women’s Initiative, much to her brother’s delight, until a horrific event brings Sherlock Holmes back into her world again. It’s more of a Sherlolly/Judelock mash-up where Sherlock wants to know why she left, who she really is, & how he’s still madly in love with her. Molly/Jude is more like she’s finally embracing the life she thought she never wanted, until she realizes that she can never forget the love she has for Sherlock. Can she be Jude & love him as well? Can Sherlock accept her true reality, or does he only love her as Molly & not Jude. Throw in a nice mystery/thriller plot too! Oh yeah Mycroft, who knew Molly is Jude from the beginning but decided to let Sherlock figure it out on his own, is determined to stop this union at all cost. Pls include all the girls & guys in Clique, especially Holly since she’s a badass off to take down Jude and her “girls” no matter what! It’s a crazy plot but if you’ve seen the 1st 2 episodes of Clique, it screams for a Sherlolly crossover fic! Thanks for reading this uber-long fic prompt! - @violetjersey

A reversed Potter!lolly with Sherlock being the Muggle-born, while Molly’s the pureblood witch (the likes of Luna Lovegood). Sherlolly, of course. - @mychakk

Agatha Christie’s “And Then There Were None” – because I always think of the movies when I see Mizjoely’s U.N. Owen tag. - @darnedchild

We know Molly can keep other people’s secrets. Maybe Molly has a few secrets of her own, i.e. her very secret collection of FWBs. Because honestly, you think she would just sit alone in her home every night, year after year, quietly pining for a romantic relationship with Sherlock? And what a surprise when Sherlock and their friends find out…maybe at Sherlock and Molly’s wedding? Crossover possibilities depend on FWBs selected…Q (James Bond), Loki (Avengers), Doctor Strange, etc. - @rubyred7531

NEW – Crack!fic based on an episode “Friends”. Sherlock marries Janine. (Maybe for a case, or because Molly is still engaged to Tom.) Unfortunately, he says Molly’s name during his wedding vows . . . - @shadowyqueenbeard

Period pieces/TAB

Victorian “Hooper”lock—Molly in disguise as “Hooper” the man, and they work together on a case and sparks fly. They flirt and all, and Sherlock can’t figure out right away that she’s a woman, and I think it might not even bother him that much. - @lullikiish

TABverse – After the whole bride thing Molly Hooper asks Sherlock to help her create a new Alias for herself, something ‘detective proof’. The thing is that Sherlock doesn’t approve of the nurse Alias, or shopkeeper, or the governess one, or the maid costume (brothel girl disguise almost kills him). For Sherlock her new persona will just have to be the wife of someone with status, someone like him. - @escaily

Song fic/Inspired by lyrics

Song Fic: Adele’s “Water Under the Bridge” - @darnedchild *

Song Fic: … I would love something based on “Samson” by Regina Spektor please. - @chelle812

Song Fic: Katy Perry’s “Unconditionally” - @darnedchild

Song Fic: Texas’ “I’ll See It Through” - @darnedchild *

Song Fic: … I’ve got a quote from a song. “You only know you love her when you let her go.” (Note from Mod - The song appears to be Passenger’s “Let Her Go”) - @flowerstar5 *

Song Fic: Angst. Based on the ABBA song “Knowing Me, Knowing You”. Sherlock and Molly have tried to have a serious relationship, but it just didn’t work out. - @shadowyqueenbeard

OT3/Sherlock, Molly, and ?

A case involving wine and stolen spatulas leads to Mycroft Holmes being attracted to Molly Hooper. Too bad Molly’s had enough of the Holmeses, and Sherlock mooning over her really isn’t helping. (Molly Hooper/Mycroft Holmes/Sherlock Holmes) - The Silent Fangirl

Molly wants to meet The Woman. Irene and Sherlock are still friends, and Molly is curious. Much to everyone’s surprise, Molly and Irene hit it off fairly quickly. (Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper/Irene Adler) - Anonymous

When Sherlock is injured and stuck in a cast up to his thigh, Mary and Molly find out JUST how grumpy he can get. They end up putting him by a window with binoculars, his pain medication, snacks, juice and his mobile. What happens next? (Molly Hooper/Sherlock Holmes/Mary (Morstan)Watson) - @penaltywaltz

Everything Else

Sherlock is undercover. He’s renting a small place and he’s trying to fit in with the extremely old fashioned community that is probably hiding a deadly smuggling ring or something equally bad. He ends up calling on Molly to come help. Since he’s already established as an unmarried man, his ‘sister’ (or other family member) arrives for a visit. Cue living in the same house while hot for each other type shenanigans while pretending to be siblings under the watchful eye of some suspicious townspeople. - Anonymous

Molly’s school reunion – Sherlock assumes he’ll be needed to help Molly show everyone up. The catch: Molly’s been a beloved peer, so it’s him who gets the obligatory “you hurt her, we’ll end you". :) - @mychakk

Sherlock sees a woman on the street. Instantly intrigued (you can choose as to why) he follows her. - @mel-loves-all

Molly loves wearing Sherlock’s house robes. - @mel-loves-all

Molly has a piece of body piercing jewelry or a tattoo located somewhere that surprises and titillates Sherlock. - @mel-loves-all *

Whenever Molly is close, Sherlock unconsciously always seems to need to touch her in some way after they start dating. He doesn’t notice it, but Molly does. - @mel-loves-all

A midnight dance. - @mel-loves-all

John tries to set up Sherlock with a girl. Unsurprisingly, there are a lot of contenders. And what does Molly have to say about that? - The Silent Fangirl

Through unexpected circumstances, Sherlock and Molly get engaged. It doesn’t end well. Crack!fic - The Silent Fangirl

Eurus Holmes ships the Sherlolly. So does John and Mycroft. Soon, everyone gets dragged into the Sherlolly craze. Crack!fic - The Silent Fangirl

Molly lives in the flat across from 221B. You know, the one that exploded? Yeah. But before that, there was a) looking at the hot naked guy in the window b) said hot naked guy crashing into her flat because he just wants to c) her traitorous cat crossing the street to hot naked guy’s flat. - The Silent Fangirl

Molly stops being Sherlock’s pathologist, and starts being THE Pathologist. BAMF!Molly - The Silent Fangirl

This, Sherlock thinks through the haze of cocaine, truly is the worst form of torture. Mycroft and Molly’s wedding through Sherlock’s drug-addled POV. - The Silent Fangirl

Molly commits suicide, but only Sherlock thinks she didn’t. He may not be wrong. - The Silent Fangirl

When John Watson dies, Rosie is given into the care of her godparents. Problem is, they aren’t exactly on speaking terms. Bonus for Harry Watson appearance! - The Silent Fangirl

Molly nearly gets hit by a speeding car … until Sherlock pushes her out of the way and gets hit himself. H/C - The Silent Fangirl

Molly in labor. After watching Mary in labor in TST, I kinda wanna see a funny take on Molly giving birth to her and Sherlock’s child. Maybe something like Molly being in pain, she wishes out loud she’d never had sex with Sherlock, while Sherlock logically points out how well they emotionally and biologically fit together. - Anonymous

Fluff. Molly has been hospitalized for whatever reason. She decides that she is feeling better and just wants to go home. However, the hospital does not want to release her yet. So Molly decides to leave AMA (against medical advice). She feels she can recover at home just as well and also she is eager to get back to work. Besides, who is going to know? This is something someone might expect from Sherlock, but not Molly. How long before he finds out? What is his reaction? - @shadowyqueenbeard

Angst. Molly discovers she is pregnant and is not happy about it. Although she would love to have a baby at some point, right now is not the time. She and Sherlock do not have a commitment and her career is going well. She plans to terminate the pregnancy. Sherlock finds out and tries to stop her. He please with her to change her mind, marry him and be a family. Is this just a control tactic or does he really love her? - @shadowyqueenbeard *

Molly discovers there is Sherlock Holmes RPF (Real Person Fiction) on the internet. She’s shocked to find that someone called Sherlolly4vr74 has been writing fic about her and Sherlock, and they seem to have a dedicated fan base. Some of the stories are very sweet and romantic, some of them are hot enough to give her NSFW ideas. Who is Sherlolly4vr74 (Is it Anderson? Mrs Hudson? Mary? John? I bet it’s John.) and is Sherlock aware of the stories? - @darnedchild *

Eurus has been known to put on a persona and disguise to get close to people for information – she was Faith for Sherlock, E and the psychiatrist for John. What if she had also spent some time around Molly prior to the events at Sherrinford? What information would she have gleaned about her brother and his pathologist? - @darnedchild

Can they be R rated. Because I feel Sherlock would not muck about, with telling Molly what he would like to do to her, he would not use cute little names for all her female parts and would go into great detail, like all his cases. She would be his very serious case. Yes he would most defiantly do a lot of research on pleasing her. Write it however you are most comfortable with. - @oliverfel4

Sherlock and Molly are getting married! It’s time to work on the guest list for the wedding, and suddenly they are faced with the question—Do they let Euros come, or not? - @celticmoonbeam

Shipwrecked Sherlolly—Sherlock saves Molly from drowning. - Anonymous

Euros leads Sherlock to believe that he failed, and Molly was killed after the ILY scene. Much angst ensues as he blames himself for her loss … but then we get to see the happy reunion scene when he learns she’s alive. - Anonymous

Moriarty trying to up Sherlock by sleeping with Molly, but the joke is on him, as Sherlock and Molly knew each other from secondary school/uni and were each other’s firsts. They can be regular (exclusive) lovers too. - @mychakk

Mary as matchmaker. At John and Mary’s wedding, Mary feels a little sad when they leave him alone to go dance (“What about you?”). She decides to make it her mission to help Sherlock find a girl so he’s not alone anymore. And this former agent has no trouble figuring out the potential between Sherlock and a certain Molly Hooper … (Up to you whether or not you want to throw in a Janine segue before she decides to set him up with Molly. And feel free to cover Sherlock being shot!) - @celticmoonbeam

Molly discovers she’s pregnant with Sherlock’s child at the worst possible time: while she’s with his parents, being hidden away, and the two are pretending to be just friends. Bonus if they figure it out before they’re told! - @penaltywaltz

After the events of TFP, Molly and Sherlock get closer. Suddenly, though, he pulls away and starts flirting with a coworker of hers, sometimes blatantly in front of her. It isn’t until an event at Barts that the truth comes out that it was all for a case. - @penaltywaltz

Molly finds out that as a child Sherlock liked the book “The Westing Game” and for one of his birthdays she arranges a vacation mimicking the plot of the book, even if none of them really fit the particular characters. - @penaltywaltz

Sherlock wants to make a gourmet meal for Molly for a special occasion, but he doesn’t seem to get it quite right. Fortunately, a friend/relative is willing to help. - @penaltywaltz

Sherlock moves in with Molly and begins perusing her book collection, picking up random books that have interesting looking covers, and the next thing Molly knows he’s turned into a fantasy buff. - @penaltywaltz *

Non-established Sherlolly. Sherlock gets a hold of Molly’s phone one afternoon and can’t resist snooping. He’s surprised to see a folder in her photo gallery marked “Special” and it’s all photos of him. - @penaltywaltz

Have you had sex? – After Euros asked that I somehow thought “Molly??” (as Sherlock says, Irene only texts him, he doesn’t reply). Later it seems that Euros is the only one who ever has noticed that Molly causes some emotions in him. So my theory is that something happened between Molly and Sherlock, it happened pretty recently, somehow (stressful night and they talked or they had some drinks and somehow one thing led to another) they ended up having sex; but Sherlock wasn’t good at dealing with it after or something urgent came along and he didn’t really consider Molly’s emotions, he ran off right after or in the morning, and that could be the reason why Molly didn’t pick up the phone first and was in a bad mood during the “ILY scene”. What happened between them recently is the reason why Molly is a bit rude to Sherlock when he calls, and the reason why she gets so emotional and raw so easily over the I Love You thing, and why she so easily tells him to say it first. Well, then when Sherlock says “I love you” he finally realizes fully that he really does love her too, and that he is capable of loving that way, and finally sees how easy it could be and what he could lose. Then after this whole thing he goes to talk to Molly and explain things to her. - @lullikiish

Complete me as a person. — Scene that popped into my mind. Irene has been texting Sherlock again, Sherlock in the end almost agrees to meet her for dinner, but as he’s walking out of his flat while Molly is there looking after Rosie he sees Molly in kind of slo-mo in the golden evening sun holding Rosie and being all sweet. Maybe already something a bit has happened before between them, some flirting, etc. The talk with John about a relationship completing him as a person is on the back of his mind. He walks out, but midway down the stairs while taking his phone out (symbolically in darkness compared to that evening sun) he realizes that he misses that warmth and Molly, and realizes that is what completes him. He takes out his phone and texts he’s not coming and then goes back upstairs. Sees Molly all adorable and confused/surprised in this beautiful light and maybe goes to kiss her, etc. - @lullikiish

Crack!fic. Molly and Sherlock had a fake wedding for a case. However, when Molly applies for a marriage license to Tom, it turns out the wedding was actually real. She has to approach Sherlock for an annulment. It seems Sherlock deleted the event, because he doesn’t seem to remember it. Or does he? It seems he is too busy to sign the paperwork, he has misplaced it, always an excuse not to dissolve the marriage. Eventually he has to admit he really does want to be married to her. So Molly has to decide between two men. Which one does she choose? 😉 - @shadowyqueenbeard

Molly, unbeknownst to Sherlock, suffers from psoriasis since her teen years. This is why she’s been adamant about being more physically intimate with him, no matter how much she wants to. Fortunately for her, Sherlock doesn’t care about it at all. Could be a hard T or M rating. Loosely inspired by Loo’s own bout with the disease. - @violetjersey *

Fluff and maybe smut, or angst with a happy ending: Molly has a creepy feeling that she is being followed, and goes to Lestrade for help. He discovers that she has a security detail, curtesy of Sherlock. Molly is not pleased with this situation. Sherlock doesn’t understand why not, shouldn’t she be glad that he cares about her safety? After getting an earful from Molly, he cancels the security detail. Molly promptly leaves town without a word to anyone, leaving Sherlock to sweat. Is she okay? Most likely she is on a beach sipping Margaritas, but maybe she’s in trouble. He would like to make amends but first he as to find her. Should he try to locate her or leave her alone as requested? - @shadowyqueenbeard

I have read this in one or two fics, but not really developed as a main theme of the story … so: What if Rosie wants to pair John and Molly? How Sherlock will react and … how will he convince Rosie that Molly is for him and not for John. I’m imagining some angst in the middle because the silly man thinks this is a wonderful idea: Rosie gets a mummy and Molly gets a family. In fact, Sherlock sets up a date between Molly and John while he’s babysitting Rosie. - @kalkopyryt

Crack!Fic. Molly decides to try speed dating. The day she goes Sherlock is there, deducing everyone else to shreds. He tells Molly he is there purely by coincidence. He’s not trying to thwart her attempts at dating at all. Really! - @shadowyqueenbeard

I’m thinking about Sherlock early in their relationship finds someone clothes that are familiar but can’t remember where, but then he watches some old Moriarty video and realizes where the clothes come from. The end is up to the author. Thank you! - @deemura

#sherlolly prompt list

10 notes · View notes