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sundaysundaes · 5 years ago

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Before Our Story Began

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 7.4k | College AU Summary: The popular new kid at your campus has this habit of raising his eyebrows when he flirts and you just realized that maybe you have a kink for it.

It has the same setting as my previous Mark Lee X Reader’s stories (Our First Time and Drunk Antics) but if you’re not into Mark (I’m not judging but what is wrong with you) you can just skip those two because this story can be read separately.

Before dating the socially-awkward, yet utterly adorable Mark Lee, you have had your fair share of relationships that are now reduced into the form of awkward friendships. Your last boyfriend was Lee Donghyuck—who also publicly known as Haechan—and that fact does not sit well with Mark, because well, they were the best of friends. They still are, but it feels like they’re walking on thin ice whenever you’re in the picture so you try your best to stay away from your ex just to make sure everything is all right with the three of you.

Which is quite weird, knowing how close you were with Haechan before.

It was weird in the beginning, but fate really did play a major role in your relationship. You were in your second year of college and you’d managed to pull yourself together by that time, though you hadn’t really made any real friends yet. You weren’t aware of Mark’s existence either at that point, though he probably had with him being your long-time secret admirer after all. You were too busy trying to adapt to the new college and dormitory life, as well as trying to keep your grades up, that you could barely spend some time socializing with people. Project partners and study buddies were really as far as you could go with the term of friendship during your first year.

Your relationship didn’t exactly start as friends with Lee Donghyuck. Even though he had made tons of friends since his orientation days in college, you were certainly not one of them. You didn’t even know he existed in your world, and neither did he. Younger than both you and Mark, Haechan shone like the sun almost in every aspect of his life and unlike you, people had surely noticed that because he was academically smart, physically good-looking, very social and adventurously funny. It didn’t take long before he became popular at your campus. So popular, in fact, that you heard chatters of his name when you walked down the campus’ hallway with your textbooks in your arms. You had only known his name but not his face, so you didn’t really feel nervous or overly excited like any other girls would’ve probably had when you accidentally sat next to him during public speaking class and saw that he had a silly note stuck on his back, pressed against his black hoodie.

“Hey,” you called, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough so the people around you wouldn’t notice. “You’ve got something on your back.”

The boy was young, and he had the smoothest golden skin you’d ever seen on a boy. You would probably kill to have his perfect sun-kissed skin. He had slightly chubby cheeks and a mop of dark brown hair with bangs falling over his eyes. He was slouching forward in his seat with his arms draped over his table, staring lifelessly at the board. His lower lip was jutting out in boredom and slight annoyance, reminding you of a five-year-old boy missing his favorite cartoon. He threw a glance to the side, looking at you with big, chocolate brown eyes, and his eyebrows raised in question.

“What?” He asked and you pointed to the back of his hoodie with your pen.

“I won’t judge if it’s the kind of thing you’re into,” you said, “but I don’t think placing a note behind your back with the words Spank Me, Mama, written on it is the best way to actually, you know, get it.”

He blushed and he blushed so hard that it made you think huh, he’s kinda cute, but you buried the thought right away. You had promised yourself to focus better that year. Falling head over heels for a fellow student on the first day of your new term was not the right way to do it.

“Right, thanks.” He struggled with the note, reaching behind his back as if his skin was on fire. You were about to help when he finally snatched the paper and read the words under his breath, eyes widening in shock.

“I assume that’s not your handwriting?” You were amused but tried your best not to tease him so much.

He did this pout that actually kind of fit his face, probably because he still had that baby face going on. Most of the guys you knew would look immensely disgusting if they pulled that kind of pout. Take your brother, Johnny, for example. Even the thought of him doing that already made you feel like punching your fist against a wall.

“I would weep myself to sleep if my handwriting was this bad,” he grumbled and you smiled secretly to yourself. He turned to you, an awkward grin painting his face. “Sorry, my friends are assholes. Do you happen to know a swamp nearby where I can dump dead bodies without being found out?”

You nod. “I know a place but it’s no longer free, though. They charge you, like, ten thousand won per body. Which is why I’m broke.”

His timid grin grew into a bright smile, probably feeling quite elated that somebody shared the same type of dumb humor as him. “I’m Lee Donghyuck.” He sneaked a hand under a table and you took it for a handshake, answering him with your name. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Most welcome. You can save me back later when I have the words spank me, daddy, glued to my back.”

“So your friends are assholes too?”

“It’s what people have in common these days, I suppose.”

But when your professor spoke louder to make sure he didn’t any other noise in the room except his own, you had to cut your conversation short and only threw small grins at him every now and then.

When the class ended, you both parted ways with nothing more than a small wave of a hand and a casual, “Well, I guess, I’ll see you later.” You thought it would be too weird to get even friendlier than that, and he probably did too. You admitted that he was cute, but not cute enough for you to ditch your next class and make out with him in the nearest parking lot. You thought you were going to see him again soon anyway, probably the next week when the same class started.

And you were right, but you wished you weren’t because Donghyuck came back to your class the following week looking like a full-course meal.

Donghyuck probably had his hair cut short somewhere on the weekend and it looked absolutely fucking perfect on his head. His bangs were no longer hiding his eyes, and it was clear to you then that Donghyuck with his forehead seen, combined with those thick beautiful eyebrows and mesmerizing round eyes, were really something to behold.

He didn’t notice you were already in the class when he walked in, with his bag slinging on one shoulder. Some rowdy boys were shouting at the back of the room, “Haechan-ah, over here! Saved you a seat!” And Donghyuck grinned at them, waving his hand before he walked toward their seats and you thought Lee Donghyuck is Haechan?! That Haechan?! And mentally slapped yourself on the face when the flashback hit you. You had the chance to talk to one of the most popular boys in school and you talked about swamp and dead bodies.

Absolutely fucking perfect.

After you managed to collect yourself, you couldn’t hold back this urge to sneak a few glances to the back of the class, trying to catch a glimpse of that beautiful forehead of his—which you realized by then that you had some kind of a kink for it—without having him notice you.

But he did. He did notice every time you tried to secretly stare and he reciprocated each time with a smile, raising one of his eyebrows almost dangerously seductive at you and you thought goddamn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve seen in my twenty years of living I don’t know what is.

You offered your best effort to stay fucking calm despite everything that had been going on in your head, waving one hand at him with a small—hopefully not creepy—smile on your face. You immediately turned around right after, swallowing your breath, and tried not to vomit because your stomach felt like it was about to lurch out of your mouth. It wasn’t really an unpleasant feeling; it was just kind of new to you and you loathed the way your heart was slamming against your ribcages.

Okay, you mentally calmed yourself, get a hold of yourself. No need to panic. He’s just another cute boy, with a cute haircut, and a cute smirk, and a cute forehead and—

You really didn’t like where it was going.

When the class ended—and you didn’t learn a thing about it—you shoved your iPad back into your bag and let out the loudest sigh you had ever made in your sorry life.

“Bad day?”

Haechan’s voice was next to your ear and though you only jerked slightly on the outside, most of your soul had actually gone to heaven—or hell, from all those dirty thoughts you had about him during the last two hours of that lecture.

“Yeah,” you cooly replied. Thank God, your voice didn’t betray you. “My swamp is full again. I have to start looking for a new place.”

AM I SERIOUSLY TALKING ABOUT ANOTHER FUCKING SWAMP—

But Haechan was laughing about it, not too much but the amusement on his face was genuine. “It’s cute that you remember our previous conversation.”

“It’s cute that you do too.”

“Well, actually, that’s what I’ve been thinking about for the last week,” he told you with a smirk on his face. You dared to bet on your life that he was flirting with you and you were about to scream out of joy but you reminded yourself to play it cool.

“I don’t think it’s a conversation worth remembering,” you commented nonchalantly.

“Not if I had it with anyone else.”

You almost fell from your seat. “On second thought, it was a pretty interesting conversation, what with the—”

“Noona.” He suddenly leaned close, laying one hand on your desk to prop his weight. There was that smirk again—the one with his eyebrow raised. “I’m trying to flirt with you and ask you out on a date, if you haven’t noticed.”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears at that point. You had thought about it—about him asking you out—but your imagination did not do justice on how smooth and confident or how goddamn attractive he looked in real life. “Oh.”

“Oh.” He imitated, smirking a bit wider and you were dazed with how bright he shone. “So, can I take you out for lunch? Not anywhere close to swamps full of dead bodies, I swear.” Then after a small pause, he added, “Unless, that’s what you’re into.”

“Shut up,” you retorted, standing up and gathering all your belongings into your arms. “You’re paying.”

He laughed softly to himself, trailing after you with a cheeky grin on his face. “This swamp thing could be our thing, though.”

“Shut up.”

***

Haechan was not one to take it slow, you remember, which is way different from how Mark does things with you.

It wasn’t like Haechan was overly aggressive—as far as boys go, he was pretty normal about the whole dating and sex thing—but he really just head straight to the point whenever he had something in mind, whether it was by a sudden change of topic in your conversation, or acting it out directly with his body.

While Mark tends to plan things, Haechan just did everything out on a whim. You could be talking about science fiction movies at a cafe at one point, and ended up with having your clothes soaked with water by the next few hours because he suddenly felt like the day was too hot and jumping into the campus pool fully clothed was a good idea. You weren’t sure why you’d said yes to all of that when you just barely knew him but Haechan could be very persuasive. So dangerously so, that you would probably say yes to anything.

It was on your third date when he suddenly bent his head down and cut you in the middle of your sentence with a kiss. It was only a small peck, a quick pressing of his plump lips against yours, but it still managed to literally stop you from breathing for a good couple of seconds.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling away with his eyes still staring at your lips. “I was… distracted.”

You knew it was lust in his eyes and you were familiar with yourself enough to know that you usually preferred to have your first kiss after you knew the guy for a certain amount of time. But Haechan—the way he sometimes stared at your lips for a millisecond while you were talking, or hugged you for a few seconds too long before you parted ways—really made you feel special. Made you feel… wanted. And it had been a long time since someone made you feel that way.

So it really didn’t come too much of a surprise that when he dipped his head down to kiss you again, you responded with as much passion as he emitted. You didn’t care that both of you were still standing in the middle of your co-ed dorm’s hallway, though it was empty from how late it was. You had your fingers tangled in his hair as you tiptoed and leaned your entire weight to his body, making him inhale sharply and curl his fingers around the fabric of your dress.

“Again,” he breathed when you pulled away for a split second and immediately brought you back to him again. Haechan had one arm around your waist and another one holding your face, angling your head to the side so he could kiss you deeper.

Haechan was a good kisser—so frighteningly so that it made you feel conscious of how inexperienced you were compared to him. And with the way his hands were moving around your body, you could tell that things were going a bit too fast.

“Haechan—”

The hand that you laid on his chest to give you both some space, was brought over your head as he pressed your body against the door of your room. He kissed you harder, almost knocking your head against the wooden surface, and you could taste the flavor of the lollipop he had on his way back to your dorm. His scent was intoxicating in the best way possible, numbing your mind from thinking how this could probably end up in a bad decision.

“Haechan-ah, wait,” you gasped against his mouth, and when he did, pulling away from you for a few inches to catch his own breath, you noticed that even if you managed to stop him, you probably wouldn’t sound very convincing.

It was really fortunate that although Haechan was a man of passion, he still had the patience to make your consent his priority. “Too fast?” He asked, warm breath fanning against your lips and you really wanted to just close those few inches between you and be smothered with his kisses again.

So you did, and you could feel him smirking into the kiss. The way he slipped his tongue between your mouth made your knees buckle underneath your weight so you clutched onto him as if you were hanging to dear life. Haechan formed this low grunt at the back of his throat that made your skin tingle in delight, knowing that you had that kind of effect on him.

But really, something still didn’t feel right.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, noticing how you fidgeted uncomfortably under his touch. He looked like stopping at this point would be the last thing he wanted to do but he still gave you the space you needed.

You nodded your head slowly at his question. Haechan looked like he had to put his best effort to gain control of his body and move away from you, and you could totally relate at that point, actually. You weren’t really sure why did you even stop him before. It just felt like the right thing to do but at the same time, it was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Haechannie—"

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step away from you and releasing you from his hold. You were surprised by the fact that you almost fell down to the floor when he wasn’t holding you.

“No, don’t be—it was, umm,” You cleared your throat. The collar of your knitted sweater suddenly felt too tight. “It was good.”

“Good?” Haechan asked, smirking as he raised an eyebrow and you thought fuck there’s that look again and you cursed inwardly a few more times for feeling so whipped for his little, seductive eyebrow raise. “I thought that was more than good, Noona.”

“Probably for you,” you wanted to tease but you could hear your voice crack at the end.

“Oh, really?”

And he kissed you again because he never wanted to lose his game. He knew he already had you wrapped under his fingers; he just wanted to make you succumb to him. To have you say how amazing his touches really felt on your skin because he was just that kind of a guy.

And he was winning. Your reaction was exactly the way he wanted you to be, arching your back under his touch, pressing your chest against his, tongue darting out to taste the inside of his mouth better and longer.

“No, wait, timeout.” You pushed him away again and you noticed that his hair was a mess from the work of your fingers and weirdly enough, it only made him ten thousand times hotter.

“Noona, you’re torturing me.” He whined against your shoulder, playfully biting the skin over your clothes. “Do you want me to stop or not?”

Haechan had the habit of whining when things didn’t go his way. It was immature and it would probably look childishly annoying on someone else, but it only made him that much more adorable. Still annoying most of the time, but always adorable.

“I’m sorry.” You were torn between feeling bad or laughing about it because my God, look at that pout. “Maybe a five-minute break? I could make you some coffee. My roommate is away for the weekend.”

He sighed, the pout on his lips grew even more apparent. “You’re inviting me to your room? At this hour? After this?”

“I’m not going to have sex with you tonight, Lee Donghyuck, just to be clear.”

“Which is the more reason why you shouldn’t be inviting me over then!”

You laughed because his voice was becoming quite high-pitched. “Are you so incapable of using your brain instead of your dick?”

“Noonaaaaa~” He threw his head back in exasperation, which gave you the chance to ogle at the column of his throat. “Seriously, is torturing guys at the end of a date your sick hobby or something?”

“Look, if you stay over, we can still make-out.” You throw a smirk at him, unlocked your door and pushed it wide open. “And I make the most amazing coffee, trust me.”

“Fine,” he exhaled, walking into your room with a suppressed smile on his face. “And I’m only here for coffee, nothing more. Making-out with you is just a bonus.” And you found yourself giggling like a child as he cradled you into his arms and pushed you down to your bed because you both knew, it was the other way around.

***

About a month later, a similar situation happened again and there was no getting out of it.

It started with Haechan coming over to your room on a Sunday afternoon. Your roommate was staying over at her boyfriend’s place again for the weekend, so you had the room to yourself for the entire day. Haechan came unplanned and he’d brought his MacBook with him because, “I know myself well enough that I’d end up playing Overwatch instead of working on my assignment, so could you please be a responsible adult and force me to do my work even if I start crying at your feet?”

Haechan was always the dramatic one in your relationship but you nodded your head and let him in. You brought over some snacks and made him coffee like usual—which he always replied with, “Noona, I don’t want to sound like an ungrateful boyfriend but this coffee tastes like shi—” but was always finished with a pillow smacked to his face, a form of your courtesy.

You were working on your own papers too, sitting on the carpeted floor with your back pressed against the foot of your bed and a MacBook resting on your lap. Your textbooks were sprawled all over the place, and Haechan was lying down on your bed, head falling over the edge. He was looking at his phone, his thumb running up and down the screen.

“Noona?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m bored.”

“Aren’t you supposed to work on your assignment?”

“Finished it already.”

You threw a look over your shoulder, glancing to see him lounging on your bed as if it was his own. Haechan already had his MacBook closed, and was looking at you upside down with a completely bored look on his face. You knew he was smart, but you didn’t know he was that smart when he really put his mind to it.

“Well, that was fast,” you commented.

“No, you’re just doing it painfully slow.”

“Well, sorry for not being as smart as you,” you mumbled, even though you weren’t really annoyed about it. Haechan huffed and walked closer, sitting closely right behind you, and trapping you between his legs.

“You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met, though,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. “What are you working on exactly?”

“I don’t even know, honestly,” you sighed, leaning against his chest, dropping your head on his shoulder. “You wanna order some take-out?”

“Can I eat you for dinner instead?”

“Was that a sex joke, Lee Donghyuck?”

“Could be, if you’re interested.” You could see him wiggling his eyebrows from his reflection on your standing mirror. Both of you looked adorable, if you could say so yourself, wearing a matching white shirt (though not on purpose) and enjoying each other’s warmth with Haechan’s arms wrapped protectively around your figure. You sighed as you admired the sight of Haechan’s features in the mirror.

“Have I told you how sexy you look with your hair pushed back like this?” You asked, reaching out to touch some of his strands and he followed your gaze, looking at his own reflection in the mirror.

“Huh.” He seemed surprised. “It’s the first time you said that actually. What else do you think is sexy about me?”

“Promise you won’t get cocky about it if I tell you?”

“Can’t. You know how I am.”

You sighed but you succumbed to his wish. He praised you from time to time, it was only fair for you to do the same. “The way you dance.”

“You saw me dance?”

“Hm-hmm.”

“When?”

“That time when we went to Jaemin’s party. You were dancing to Billy Jean.”

“You saw that?!” He was flustered, scarlet painting his cheeks and ears. “That was—I thought you were in the bathroom!”

“Well, I was going to but then I saw you and kinda had to stop and stare for a little. You dance more with your hips than with your hands, do you know that? It was kinda hot.”

And just like that, the flabbergasted look on his face was immediately replaced with that Godforsaken cocky smirk again. “Were you turned on back then because of me?”

“A little. Or maybe I just really had to pee.”

“You should’ve said something, you know.”

“And then what? Have sex with you in Jaemin’s room? No freaking way.”

“We could’ve used my car. My hips could do so much more than just dancing, you know.”

“You’re disgusting.” You elbowed him slightly on the stomach to stop him from giggling, before you focused back on your MacBook. “Now, shoo, my boy. Mommy’s gotta work.”

Haechan had his chin on one of your shoulders. “But Noona~”

“I’m studying.”

“I’m bored~” He whined like the baby that he was, nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck and you flinched slightly when his breath tickled your skin. “Can we make-out? Please pretty pleaseeeee~”

“Give me half an hour to finish this real quick—”

“Noonaaaaaaa~”

“What?” You were trapped between laughing and acting annoyed about it. “I seriously need to study. Didn’t you tell me to be a responsible adult for today?”

“You could also be a responsible adult by making-out with me though.” He chuckled to himself. “We could do adult things if you—”

“No,” you firmly stated though your smile kept on appearing on your face. You pushed a palm against his cheek, playfully shoving him away. “Now, go away, Dongsookie, I really have to study.”

“Fine,” he exhaled loudly against your shoulder and you could practically feel his pout growing on his face. He didn’t let you go, though. He kind of just sat there behind you, still circling his arms around your waist as he lazily stared at the words you were typing on the keyboard. You had trouble concentrating with the way you could feel every time he took in a breath from how close his chest was pressed against your spine but eventually you got the hang of it.

You were already working on your third page when Haechan suddenly had his lips on the side of your neck, lazily suckling on the skin until you could no longer ignore him.

“Haechannie.”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m playing a game,” he murmured against your skin, licking at the soft skin before he nibbled at it with his teeth. “It’s called how fast can I distract my girlfriend from working over a stupid assignment instead of spending time with me.”

“But I am spending time with you, though.”

“You know what I mean.”

And you had to bite your lip because he had a certain kind of pressure on his words that made your skin tingle in anticipation. His lips were soft but scorching hot as he drew bruises on your skin and it felt so good and dangerous at the same time. It was like standing on a bridge made of glass, both exciting and terrifying.

“You know what I think is sexy about you?” He quietly asked, one hand running down your body, slipping under your shirt and hovering dangerously close to your bra. “The way you say my name when we kiss,” he continued, adding a soft moan when he latched his lips around your earlobe.

You shivered, feeling heat growing on your cheeks. “Haechannie—”

“Yes, like that,” he chuckled, his voice suddenly became deeper. “You’re so sexy, you’re driving me insane.”

You tried your best to ignore him, you really did. But the second he had his warm mouth against your lips, his fingers grabbing your face almost forcefully to turn towards him, you just lost it and you found yourself crawling into his lap, tangling your legs around his waist and moaning against his mouth as he was against yours.

“Noona,” he sighed when you kissed down his neck, as if your every touch was a gift that he craved more and more. He shuddered slightly when you had your hand under his shirt and as if you just pushed the wrong button, he suddenly picked you up by the waist, shoved your textbooks away with one swipe of the back of his hand, and laid you down on the carpeted floor in one swift motion.

“If you keep doing that,” he breathed out heavily, eyes glazed as he stared at your kiss swollen lips. “I won’t be able to stop, even if you beg me to.”

You weren’t sure what came over you but you found yourself hooking your fingers around his necklace and brought his face down, whispering, “Then don’t stop,” directly against his lips.

It was all rush and passion and Haechan was not wasting even a second away before he began to undress you, removing each clothing very easily and you secretly wondered just how many times had he done this before from how smooth he unclasped your bra with one flick of his finger.

He pulled his shirt over his head, his silver necklace hanging loosely around his neck. “Tell me if I’m being too fast,” he said, before he climbed on top of you, throwing the piece of clothing away without a care. Your heart jumped at the sight of him, knowing how this could lead to something more but couldn’t really stop him. Not with the way he had his hands reaching down from the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach, his fingers brushing above the hem of your jeans.

His kiss was always breathtaking, to say the least, but it was a bit different this time because it felt like he was losing control of himself. His kiss was almost forceful, his teeth roughly nibbling at your lower lip before he moved down your chin and found his place in the crook of your neck again. His hand was on your chest, cupping you fully with his palm and let out this sexy groan when he felt you gasping his name against his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re just doing that on purpose now, aren’t you?” He hissed, eyes clouded with lust. He peppered kisses down your chest, lips hovering above your nipple when he said, “You’re being cruel, Noona.” You were tugging at his dark locks when he placed it between his lips, sucking at the sensitive spot, and you tried to hold back your moan but failing every time.

Haechan was giggling to himself, his tongue flicking around the bud. “The way you’re reacting to me is so cute. I didn’t know you were this sensitive.” He ran his tongue across his lower lip, staring at you like he wanted to ravish every part of you, which he probably did. “You’re so goddamn cute.”

“Haechannie.”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t be needing that kind of commentary ever again in the future, thanks,” you uttered, trying your best to focus on his touch and not his words because Haechan could be annoyingly talkative sometimes.

He chuckled again, moving along to land a few kisses on your stomach. “If you’re that sensitive here, how sensitive will you be if I touch you right over…” He trailed a finger down from your belly button to the edge of your underwear. His eyes twinkled gleefully before he rubbed your clit over your underwear. “…here?”

You gave your best strength to stay sane but Haechan’s giggle over your reaction only tortured you even further. “Stop playing around,” you hissed under your breath, pretty sure that you were blushing from ear to ear.

“Playing?” Haechan grinned tauntingly, “I’m being pretty serious, though.” He spread your legs, kissing the inner part of your trembling thigh before he hovered dangerously close to the point you could feel his breath down there. You couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation and Haechan knew that. He knew how much you wanted him to take off your underwear and eat you out like it’s his last meal.

But of course, being the little fucking devil that he was, Haechan only threw you his usual smirk and said, “You know I’d do anything for you, right, Noona? You just gotta beg for it.”

“No way.”

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t know.” He faked a pout. “I’m younger than you, you know. I need you to teach me these things.”

You reciprocated by kicking him right on his abs because as desperate as you were, there was no way in hell you were going to grovel at his feet, begging for him to please you. “All right, all right, I’m sorry, geez!” Haechan said, laughing as he successfully dodged two of your first kicks. Soon after, he grabbed your moving legs, carefully placed them on his sides and ran his hands slowly from your legs to your thighs. He took a long glance at your body, sighing like it was some kind of beautiful torture for him to take. “You don’t even realize how hot you are, do you?” He leaned closer and grabbed you by your chin, locking both of your gazes together. “Do you even know how hard I am right now because of you?”

It was a rhetorical question, clearly, because you could definitely tell how hard and hot he was pressing against you, even if his jeans and your underwear were still on the way.

“God, just—” you gasped when he slipped a knee between your legs, pressing it against your core. “Just stop being a fucking tease and fuck me already, Donghyuck.”

And he grinned against your skin. “Fucking finally.” You heard him say under his breath, before he carried you in his arms and moved you to the bed. It felt somewhat scary, how fast he was being, because you had only experienced sex once and it was the painfully awkward kind of sex with your high school boyfriend and you didn’t really have the chance to practice it with anyone else while it seemed to you, at this point, was clearly not the case for him.

Haechan had his eyes on you, all half-lidded with lust and passion, as he unbuckled the belt of his jeans and you had to gulp at the sight. He didn’t really have six-pack abs like Jaehyun—considering your boyfriend was quite an athlete during his senior days—but his shoulders were broad, his chest was toned, his stomach was lean and his skin, as it glistened slightly with sweat, was just absolutely breathtaking.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked, and you knew how he’d always been cocky in his entire life, but he’d never been this cocky. “You’re practically drooling.”

“I am not,” you retorted but you lacked confidence. Haechan grabbed a condom from the pocket of his jeans before he climbed back into the bed with his jeans unbuttoned.

“Why do you already have a condom with you?”

“Because I came prepared.”

“I thought you said you wanted to study.”

“Among other things,” he grinned against your lips and shushed down your next protest. “I will be studying your body, if you give me the chance.”

“That was so lame.” But even your insult couldn’t mask how nervous you sounded, especially when Haechan was settling himself between your legs again, fingers hooking around your underwear.

“Final chance if you want me to stop, Noona,” he said though it felt like it was almost impossible for him to stop. “I’m serious. After this, I won’t stop even if you cry.”

You swallowed your breath, heart thrumming loud against your chest. “Just do whatever you want,” you answered, almost too quiet for even your ears to hear but Haechan’s eyes gleamed in anticipation.

“That’s my girl,” he said, grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs apart before he leaned in to taste your mouth again. “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”

You realized you were holding your breath when Haechan wrapped the condom around his length and he had his eyes on you before he pushed in, asking with an unexpected low voice of his, “Ready?”

But he did not wait for an answer and you found yourself hissing when he pushed in, slowly at first and suddenly all at once. You twisted your fingers against the bed sheet, biting your lower lip because it hurt trying to adjust to his size and Haechan was a little bit lost in his own thoughts, muttering, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” under his breath, slightly throwing his head back out of pleasure. “Noona, you’re so fucking tight. Do you know that?”

He leaned closer to you, chest pressing against your breasts as he mouthed against the skin of your shoulder and slowly began to move his hips. “You all right?” He asked, making eye contact after a while and you shakily nodded your head, though the pain was still there. “Then I’ll move faster.”

You almost hit your head against your headboard when he suddenly picked up the pace, thrusting into you hard and deep; it knocked the breath out of your lungs. “Haecha—” you could barely speak at that point, arms clutching tight to his back, nails raking against his spine.

“Fuck,” he uttered between heavy breaths as he sat on his knees, holding both of your legs in the air, almost splitting your body in half and pushed deeper. “How the fuck do you feel this good, I—” he ended his sentence short, kissing your ankle instead, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wanna keep you—you’re so pretty like this, Noona—so fucking pretty—”

Haechan was always good with his words but at that time, he was making incoherent noises at the back of his throat, jumping from one sentence to another as if he was thinking about several things at once and he was running out of time.

“Haechan, wait—s-slow down—” You placed a hand on his shoulder, tears forming in your eyes. “You’re moving too fast—It hurts—”

Haechan was unfocused, but the last two words that slipped from your mouth brought him back to reality. He stopped almost immediately, looking at you with eyes searching your face. “Does it hurt?” He asked and you nodded, your body shaking a little bit. His gaze softened, cupping your cheek in his hand before he slowly pulled out of you. “I’m sorry, come here.” He cradled you into his arms, sitting down on the bed and helped you climb into his lap. “Maybe if we do it this way,” he said, wiping a tear from your eye with his thumb, “You’ll feel better?”

You could feel him twitching below you, the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. Haechan stayed true to his promise, he wasn’t going to stop even if you cried and that’s fine because you didn’t want him to.

“Take your time,” Haechan said, smiling gently in a way that was so not him that it made you feel weird. You could tell that he was trying to keep himself calm and composed even when all he wanted to do was to fuck you senselessly.

He pushed inside again, but let you take control of the pace this time. You slid down slowly, wincing slightly at the friction but it no longer hurt as much. Haechan was staring at you the entire time, unconsciously licking his lower lip when you slowly began to bounce on his lap.

“Kiss me,” he demanded and you did, sharing his breath and his moans, and tangling your hands in his hair. When he felt your body relaxing against him, he grabbed you by the waist and suddenly thrust forward, making you gasp and clenched your legs together.

“Fuck,” he moaned under his breath, hissing at how perfect you felt around him. “Noona, you can be mad at me as much as you want after this but for now let me just—” he groaned, furrowing his eyebrows at the feeling of him sliding in and out of you. “Just let me fuck you the way I want.”

And you found yourself thrown back to the bed with him thrusting into you deep and raw, faster and much more forceful than before. His nails were sinking into your skin from how hard he was holding you by your hips, keeping you still as he rocked his hips forward as hard and as fast as he liked. Expletives were falling from his lips between his low grunts and breathy moans and you couldn’t help but sob a little at how strong he was going. It felt painfully amazing, and you knew your body wasn’t making any sense, and it surprised you when your orgasm hit you like a wave, just a few seconds before he reached his. You honestly never thought that something so painful could also bring this much pleasure and you wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t even find the energy to keep yourself up.

You fell down to the bed with Haechan toppling on top of you almost immediately, chest heaving fast as he tried to bring back some air into his lungs.

“Holy fucking hell,” he said, breathing heavily at the juncture of your neck. “That was so good. This is probably the first time I—”

“Haechannie.”

“Oh right, shit!” He immediately jumped away, giving you some space and gently placed his palm on the side of your face, checking your condition. “Are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere? Noona, I’m so sor—Yah!“

You pinched him by the nose, glowering at him with the little strength you have left and you didn’t let go even if he was tapping frantically against the back of your hand, asking for time-outs before you broke his bones.

Well, he said you could be mad at him all you want. It was time for him to face your wrath and it was not going to be pretty.

***

It wasn’t long until your name became a famous topic to discuss around the hallway too and it felt weird yet exciting at the same time, because it was true. You were dating Lee Haechan. And no matter how many times you had to convince yourself that it wasn’t solely your imagination, it still felt unreal.

Because Haechan was shining like the sun, and you couldn’t really shine as bright.

It suddenly felt like high school all over again when you’d once dated the Prom King, Jung Jaehyun, where people always talked behind your back, making comments about your face, or your body, or your attitude and how every aspect of your life did not fit the legendary high school prince that was Jung Jaehyun. It had gotten so much into your head that you had to break up with him, and hating yourself for over a year on how weak you’d become.

Dating Haechan was similar but different in the way he treated you. Jaehyun was too kind, not really saying anything back to anyone who said awful things about you and instead, just told you to not pay any mind about it. Haechan was much braver in saying the things that came to mind, so whenever he heard people talking trash about you, he would come up to them with words laced with venom. It was kind of childish, the way he got worked up rather easily, and even more childish when he continued to pout and fume about it even after a whole day had passed.

“Seriously, I said I’m fine,” you once said to him, entering his Hyundai after he opened the door for you.

“Well, I’m pissed off,” he said, unconsciously closing the door a bit too hard, making you flinch slightly. He walked to the other side of the car, sinking to his seat behind the wheel and exhaled loudly.

“Haechannie.”

“What?” His tone was still a bit harsh, but you knew he didn’t mean to shout at you.

“Thank you for defending me,” you softly said, reaching out for his hand. “But at this point, you’re gonna be mad with literally everyone and anger does not look pretty on you.”

“But aren’t you pissed, though? They literally have no business whatsoever to—”

“I know.” You squeezed his hand. “Look if it gets worse, we can always plan out something. There’s this perfect swamp I know outside of town.”

And Haechan couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he was right, that swamp thing could really be your thing. “You and your stupid swamp,” he muttered, shaking his head in amusement as he grabbed your face for a kiss. “Can we have sex at your place today?”

You sighed. It was always like this when it came to him. “Sure, why not.”

Because certainly, you weren’t complaining.

***

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rkhemlani · 2 years ago

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June 14th - Fushimi-inari Shrine

The fan I purchased several days ago was such a good investment. I woke up around 8, got ready, and went to Starbucks to grab myself and Nico some breakfast while he was getting ready. We had class, where Professor Smith reminded us that we only have one week left here and I got kinda sad. Anyways, we headed over to the Fushimi-inari Shrine, which is the one with all the pretty red torii that you may have seen on Instagram. It was a beautiful shrine and of course Vishnu took great pics. A random lady took a pic with me and called me handsome, which made my day (Nico if you don’t believe it ask Jordan he was there). The fan I purchased was such a good investment as I was not that tired or out of breath, but the others were all hot and sweaty as we climbed up the mountain, so I tried to cool some of them off as well. Chelsea suggested that I use that to cool off girls at the bars, which may be a good way to start a conversation. I also wore my bathing suit shorts today (which were the only shorts I brought on this trip), because I would have died if I was wearing pants. Sometimes my genius is almost frightening. We walked through the torii as a group for about an hour and then we split up. Some of us continued hiking up many stairs to the top, which was slightly disappointing because there were no cool photo spots. Nico, Vishnu, Xander, Sebastian, and I walked back down, and we grabbed lunch. First, we stopped to pick up squid skewers and fried chicken, which were delicious. Afterwards, we sat down in a ramen shop and while the others had ramen, I had gyoza. I also got an iced coffee at a coffee shop next door, which was incredibly refreshing on such a humid day. We walked back to the hotel in the rain. Us guys really want to have a spa day, so let’s see if that happens.

Academic Reflection

The article for today introduced the deity of Inari and discussed the search for unity with regards for praising Inari. Inari has been worshipped in Japan since at least the early 8th century and is extremely widespread today in both urban and rural areas. Sites of praise can be found anywhere because praising Inari typically involves asking for successful endeavors, usually work or business oriented. Worship can be formal with priests performing special ceremonies and rites, but it is usually more casual as many people have sites of worship in their workspaces, offices, and at home. Nobody knows who or what Inari looks like, many people have suggested that Inari is represented as a fox, as rice, as jewels, or even as tofu. It was impressive to learn from the reading that Inari is extremely individual as there is no central authority or unifying body that wholly dedicates itself towards this deity.

The shrine that we visited today had beautiful and elegant statues of foxes everywhere, representing the importance of Inari. Furthermore, behind every tori (gate), included the names of businesses with a small message asking for success in its endeavors. It was a beautiful and impressive shrine that supports a faith which is not unified at all, but unifying in the way that people ask for success.

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maanae · 4 years ago

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The Court: Origins

Guess who wrote that instead of searching for an appart ? .-.

But kinda like it and I mean there's Hawkgirl so it can't be that bad (yes it's from the animated JL. I mean it's the best girl from that carton. Best. Girl.)

Ladybug and Chat Noir meet heros : Wonder Woman is the First (working in Paris ?) and she introduces them to the rest. Because they need help and decent backing. (shinanigans and awkwardiness are totally here, they're fans ok?) But it's a firm 'no' to any direct intervention from foreign heroes who doesn't manage his emotions (akumatized Superman... brr). But they need help. They send Martian Manhunter and Hawkgirl. (Wonder Woman would have come, with her own ties with the Miraculous and all, but she's already the ambassador of her people so can't.) Immediately, there are results. Crazy the efficacity of training right? (Master Fu gets an earful along the way, heroes don't like this Gardian way of his)

Ladybug is still his apprentice but she has back-up so she doesn't drown and she trains Chat Noir in secret from Fu. Because y'know, they're p a r t n e r s! (Hawkgirl called bullshit on the inequality between the two and Martian Manhunter said it was a good idea so). Ladybug and Chat Noir totally plan to rope Nino in it too. The Turtle always have more Gardian-vibe than the rest because Protection and Nino is Nino so he's trustworthy. (He could be Grand Gardian in the future but Ladybug is a martyr if anything else and she doesn't want to overburden him. She works on that. (And Chat Noir works on the "self-sacrificing" bit of his personality. Hawkgirl called bullshit on that too)).

They don't know each other's identity but when Chat Noir flirts and Ladybug complains they know it's more for fun than anything else. Sure, they have a tiny tiny crush on each other but they're heroes (teenage heroes) after all, they need the comic relief please.

Marinette and Adrian are more busy than ever and it's hard sometimes but they're not drowning and it's better than what could have been without the Justice League so they manage. Sure, Marinette doesn't design as much as before and Adrian runs on three hours of sleep tops but they manage! Sure they're in high school now but they're in seconde and it can be a lot of work but it's also the year the most laid back of high school so. They can do it.

With help, comes suspects. Did you think Martian Manhunter and Hawkgirl were here only as supports? They're might be not as detective-oriented as Batman but they have their own way to have answers. They're still heroes, even if they're not detectives. Chat Noir isn't happy when his father made it on the List and is a serious suspect. And he's not happy when Ladybug supports this theory with her own evidence either. And sure his suspects are believable too but he overlooks Gabriel completely and Ladybug is not impressed with him (Lila comes back at the same time and Marinette is not impressed with Adrien either.) Maybe their argument and all the yelling gave away their identities a little too quickly. Oups.

They ignore each other for two good weeks, in class like in battle, before Hawkgirl forces them to talk. (Communication is important kids). It's not a fun conversation. They somewhat forgive each other even if it's strain in the first weeks. But they work on it (because frienships too need work) and they come to it at least! And sure Hawkmoth landed some good hits during that time but they always win, good relationship or not. They're professionnals guys.

And maybe they become so close they're often taken for a couple. Except she gives him advices about Kagami and he's pushing her in Luka's arms. They're often saying they're more like siblings if ask. At some point Adrien is all but officially adopted by the Dupain-Cheng. (The Lahiffe tried but hey, a whole bakery. They can't hold a candle to that.) It was a happy few months despite the stress and the akumas and amoks. Even with Lila. (because the class isn't full of idiots, yes they find Lila great and yes her war with Marinette and Adrien is weird but they're friends either way. They just... don't go out at the same time with them. They take turns. They think of something to make it work. Because being friends with a whole class is cute but not realistic.)

And then there is a conversation who strucks odd to Adrien. Not even a conversation, just an off-hand comment. Barely a "make sure Duusu obey correctly next time". Just a few seconds. Adrien wouldn't have think of anything if he didn't exactly knew who was Duusu. Oups x2. He took it pretty bad. Poor Chat.

Their plan is simple - in theory (well, more or less, it's still Ladybug we speak of). A sort of "breaking & entering" with thief!Marinette and complice!Adrian. Martian Manhunter in invisibility mode scoots the hallways before the two and Hawkgirl is at the end of the formation, ready for all he can throw at them. Of course it comes crashing down. La faute à pas de chance like we say in French - they come during the Night of Hawkmoth (the one random night in the week where Hawkmoth akumatises someone from a nightmare - look, he needs to sleep to). So when Adrian lets Ladyfox enter, the illusions doesn't fool the high-security systems and he prepares. Time for Scarlet Moth to shine!

He doesn't go to the confrontation this coward - he knows they will kick his ass with their training and help of the Justice League. Nah, he creates several really destructive akumas. Y'know. Criminals and the such he carefully avoided before. Trumps cards! Mayura joins not long after. It's a massacre. They need help. Big help. Big like all the box. (And Not the Justice League because maybe Scarlet Moth isn't at his limit and they can't risk it.)

So they recruit. Rena Rouge, Carapace, Hornet (Queen Bee 2.0), Ryuko, Viperion, Bunnyx, and sometimes random people whom the kwamis sense they have a greater affinity than the other persons in their class. It's still bad. They die - a lot. All of them, except Bunnyx. The number of times she jumped from her Burrow to protect a fellow hero is... frightening. Sometimes she made them exchange their miraculous, to better suit their affinities and needs. It lasts three days.

They win! Somewhat. They're... not broken, almost, mourning their innocence and deeply hurt. But they're alive and Paris is standing and Hawkmoth and Mayura are not - yet - winners so. They take what they can.

Ladybug and Chat Noir don't take back the Miraculous from those who want to fight with them. Some people can't be heroes, can't have the mental for it. Others are desesperate to stop this. And others still are born for it - like them. Hawkgirl and Martian Manhunter agreed to train them - they're not in their best mindset either (they didn't see so much destruction since their last world-ending event, it's not an everyday occurrence even for them) but they're adults, professionals. The kids need them so they help, of course. The Court is born, with new heroes and new names. Too many has been compromised during the battle to keep their old, and... they are not the same as before either. Dame Chance (Ladybug - Marinette), Cat Sìth (Cat - Adrian), Alya (Tiger - Tigris), Nino (Turtle - Shield), Chloé (Bee - Hornet), Kagami (Dragon - Kinryu), Luka (Snake - Ouroboros), Alix (Bunny - Bunnyx), Nathaniel (Fox - Renart), Allegra (Rooster - Mélodie), Bridgette (Ox - Niú), Claude (Horse - Kid Mime) and Alan (Dog - Gavroche).

From here, it's hell. Hawkmoth and Mayura send akumas and sentimonsters at a frenetic pace, sometimes switching with a Scarlet Moth Situation (not too otfen because it costs a great deal of energy but at least one on three days). Life in Paris is impossible, the city is lock down, the civilians need to stay home for their security and the heroes all but stop to live. They move in the QG Hawkgirl and Martian Manhunter set up at the beginning and scheme. Identities don't matter (and that's an interesting conversation), sleeping, eating, all of that is pushed aside. They can't deal with distractions. That's also a interesting conversation. (Look, some of them don't lose their priorities. Sleep and food are not distractions. But go say that to Marinette, hah.) But nevertheless, their lifes are put on hold for their hunt (and training. the new heroes need it.) No need to say, they're on a fine line from madness.

It lasts two weeks (an eternity) before they attack. The battle is horrible - like all battles - and the Court is spread across all Paris to protect it from the akumas and sentimonsters. Against Hawkmoth and Mayura, it's only Dame Chance, Cat Sìth, Ouroboros, Kinryu and Martian Manhunter.

They win. Finally. And they sleep the month after that, because trauma (very much so), adrenaline and - just - their bodies shut down. Especially Marinette and Adrian.

Now, the Box is used as almost full capacity. Nino has the Turtle. So Fu is like 'cool, Marinette is ready!' Hence Marinette is Grand Guardian at 16 (joy. so much.) and as first decision names Adrian and Nino Guardians with her. Fu isn't too please. She doesn't give a flying fuck.

After Hawkmoth Alya, Nathaniel, Bridgette and Claude gave back their miraculous (they were heroes when needed but it isn't a life they want).

The next two years are a lot of juggling between training, learning, apprenticeship and heroing but nowhere near the intensity of their first two years.

Because the Court is still active. Even without Hawkmoth and Mayura (by the way Nooroo and Duusu are absolutely being pampered in the box), they remained active, help the police and all. Especially with the new risk of attacks from terrorists (they couldn't prevent the bombs, only help afterwards and that was... hard. Definitely more so than Hawkmoth because the Cure can't revive these victims. There wasn't any Miraculous involved - only plain, old, ugly humanity).

Btw the Justice League is on speed dial in case they need help for a magical/miraculous/world-ending event and because they're allies now but they're not part of it.

So yes they're heroes but they're teenagers too. Marinette and Luka date one year before they break up and remain friends (and maybe she has a little something with Kagami at one point. maybe), Adrien discovers preferring guys, Nino and Alya are still as in love as ever. They grow up, they graduate high school. Some stay in Paris, others go discover the world.

Alya made a name for herself with the Ladyblog and has a brilliant carrier ahead of her, already thinking of doing something similar to Lois Lane : war reporter, then specialising herself in heroics. She wants to be the best and knows damn well what she needs to do for that (Lila be damned). Chloé flourishes in New York, attempting business and politics degrees (nobody else see Chloe as Mayor of Gotham? I think it would suit her - a broken city needing her help and power. pretty much her). Luka makes soundtracks for movies and makes a name for himself ; in the same sector, Allegra joins the National Orchestra of France. Nino chooses a degree in the cinema, DJing in the weekend. Adrian works with Sabine and Tom, training to inherit, one day, the bakery - Gabriel crumbled with his father and he has no intention to ever build it back. Kagami trains for the Olympics. Alix goes for a degree in archeology - following her family and her miraculous. The comic series relating the aventures of the Court by Nathaniel and Mark is a huge success, assuring their own place in the world. Allan go to Japan for a degree in languages. Bridgette and Marinette goes to China to visit their family (they're totally cousins) and for their respective studies in communication and fashion.

Paris is heartbroken and very concerned when Dame Chance and Cat Sìth disapear but the Ladyblog remains active so they can explain that they're young, they want to learn to live in this world and they need to attends some Miraculous matters - but of course if Paris or the France or even the world need their help one day, they'd come back.

At 23, Marinette, Adrian, Nino and Alix take a gap year and go to Tibet. Because they're not civilians despite their somewhat inactivity and their Court is cool but they very much need to think about the future, the after them. So they need to rebuild the Order.

Oh. The League/The Untitled/a great bad. Coucou. (book 2?)

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keepingthehopealive · 3 years ago

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How are you doing? :)

I'm OK. I'm finishing up my orientation at work this weekend and starting next week I'm on my own which is scary but I think I'm semi ready for it. I'm obviously really anxious but I know there will be lots of people for support and help when I need it. I'm still really enjoying the job and feel more comfortable and confident there than with other jobs I've had in the past.

Besides work, I mostly just hang out with my pup but I wouldn't want it any other way. We've been doing lots of fun training and I took him to a swim lesson this week which was so fun and I can't wait to go back! He's also taking an Obility class which is half obedience and half agility. He's truly the best and helps me so much.

I'm also kinda sorta dating someone. We've been on a few dates and we're taking things slow but its going well. We had our first kiss last time and it was awkward as ever, but nice at the same time. We both have super busy schedules but its nice when we're able to hangout

Therapy is going well and I'll update about it more in a separate post. I'm lucky and thankful to have L because she is such a good therapist (even when I'm not such a good patient)

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harringtonstudios · 5 years ago

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best friend’s ex.

plot: he’s your best friend’s ex and you should stay away.

A/N: i wrote this in one sitting and it’s very long <3 took some creative liberty here so imagine 2020!kells but he hasn’t made it just quite yet in the industry. this is heavily based off the song release tonight with blackbear so enjoy (maybe while listening!)

masterlist!

The circles in New York are different than the ones in Los Angeles. There’s a hint of familiarity in the New York circles, everyone seems to know each other connected by one person or a distant story of that one night the whole crowd tripped on molly. It’s dizzying, intricately knowing every single person backstage or at some club without recognizing them exactly.

You haven’t gotten used to the life, not yet acclimated with the high-fives and looks thrown your way at a party, or the nameless phone numbers crowding your text messages. It’s all new, fun and exciting and you have no one to thank but your best friend.

She’s made for this life, for the late nights and the rushes, the sticky floors and glittery lipgloss. This is her environment, where she thrives, and sometimes when you look at her in the club, necklaces shining with the overhead lights, you find it hard to connect this Domi to the one who you’ve seen crying on your bedroom floor after watching a despairing animal shelter commercial. But then she throws you a grin, crowds close, drapes her arm over your shoulder, and it just makes sense.

It’s been years of friendship, ever since you two met at freshman orientation for college. Her roommate was terrible, and more often than not, she’d be camping out on your twin-sized bed, offering you bites of her snacks in exchange for a safe haven. You both hadn’t really been into the party scene at school, too busy scrambling for reports and fibbing results for the endless lab sessions.

Domi graduated a semester early, spent an entire summer taking accelerated classes so she could go fly off to New York right before the new year started. That’s when things seemed to change. You’d been upset with her, hints of jealousy tinging in when she’d send you pictures of fancy clothes and people she was hanging out with, the nicely decorated venues she’d find herself in. She invited you to come to the city a few weeks in, buzzing on Facetime about backstage passes.

Then you were graduating yourself, packing two suitcases and jetting halfway across the country to live in the shitty apartment Domi’d been renting out with a couple of strangers. It had been hard to settle down at first, the air was different in the city and you’d had to up your resting bitch face game when you sat on the subways late at night, but before you knew it, you were enjoying the city that never sleeps, best friend right by your side.

Colson had stumbled into your life a year ago, and then been ripped out six months after. He was a up and coming musician (self-proclaimed) and had taken a chance bet on the city, moved from Cleveland with his friends and a mixtape. He was beautiful in a rugged way, angled cheekbones and lanky limbs, but Domi had taken one look and called dibs, so you tampered any attraction down.

It hadn’t taken long for them to start dating, even if Domi claimed they were just fooling around, it was clear to see that there was some level of intimacy there, a relationship itching to be formed. You’d been happy for her truly and it was easier than you’d expected to fall into a camaraderie with the guys.

Colson’s friends were funny, quick on their toes and absolutely chaotic. They fit into New York better than you did, and almost every single night, you would find yourself at their apartment, playing shitty drinking games and jamming to loud music.

Domi kept the relationship as lowkey as she could, and at some point, you would hear less and less about Colson. It didn’t really hit you then, but it was the beginning of the end in a way, and then she was walking in, eyes red and wet before yelling out the fated words, “We broke up.”

Everything you had gotten used to was suddenly taken away. You spent weeks consoling her, reminding her that she was better than this guy, stronger and that time was the only way this would heal. She begrudgingly listened, and then took your phone from you, casually blocking Colson’s number along with all his friends.

At first, you’d been mildly upset. She was the one who’d fucked up, the one who’d decided to break up with him, so why was this effecting you? It didn’t make sense, they were still your friends and you liked them more than anyone else you’d met here.

But then she’d given you her patented puppy dog eyes, and you’d dismissed it, decided that if this was what she wanted, so be it. You could stand to lose the drunken nights, your liver would thank you.

Colson Baker and his friends disappeared from your life as fast as they had appeared into it. You spent your nights cooking at home instead of going out, focused on building back your sleep schedule instead of getting drunk off your mind, and the days went by.

Of course, nothing lasts forever and six months later, your coworkers’ are begging you for a night out, like the old times. Everyone’s antsy for your reply, know that you haven’t been to a social function with them in ages, and you take one look at their faces before sighing and agreeing.

The entire office claps, you flip them all off before catching sight of your boss, who simply smiles and shakes his head. There’s a faint flutter in your stomach, memories rising from months ago, parties and late nights, flashes of lights and thumping music. You shrug it off, tap your pen against the desk, bring your focus back to work.

Three hours later, you’re catching the train back home. It isn’t exactly rush hour yet, you’ve gotten out a little earlier than usual, Friday evenings usually being dull at work anyway and you’re glad because there’s less people mulling around in the sticky heat of the train station.

The station doesn’t smell great, there’s a tinge of stale pee filling up the air and you discreetly move to the other side of the station, trying to get as far away from the smell as you can. New York City man.

The train pulls in, and you automatically put in your headphones, music blasting in your ears as you sidle into the train car, passing the passengers coming out. It’s relatively empty, being near the front and you thank the train gods before sliding into an orange seat near the door.

There’s a couple of guys sitting at the other end, they’re loud and boisterous, shoving each other and you give them a once-over before settling into the seat. The train moves, and you pull your purse onto your lap, patting it once before letting your eyes fall close.

The next stop comes abruptly, jolting you out of the little dreamscape you’d created. There’s a shout as the doors open and you pause your music trying to tune into what’s going on. It’s still the group of guys, but now there’s more of them and you roll your eyes at the banter drifting across the car.

The music starts up again and you lean your head back, try to get comfortable again, but it doesn’t work. There’s a weird feeling in your gut, making you uneasy but you brush it off, raise the volume until all you can feel is the dirty bass.

A minute later, someone kicks at your shoes and you open your eyes, ready to angrily scold at them until they can feel the rage across the car.

The words die in your throat. Colson Baker’s standing there in all his glory, lanky arm leaning against the metal, blonde hair puffing around his head, grin lighting up his face.

His nose is pierced now and you take it in, the way it brings out his eyes and you pause the music mumbling out, “Nose ring looks good on you.”

You bite your tongue right after, embarrassed that after months of silence that’s the first thing that falls out of your mouth. He laughs, body shaking and you’re flashed back to nights in his apartment, watching him laugh on the other couch, head thrown back.

“Thanks,” he murmurs before going, “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” you answer honestly and there’s another shout from across the car, Colson turning to wave a hand.

“It’s the guys. They didn’t think it was you, but I could tell yanno,” he explains and you raise your eyebrows as he continues, “They’re all still kinda pissed you blocked us.”

The statement falls between you two, awkwardly as the train car rumbles on. You wince a little as he fake coughs to fill the empty space.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about all that man. You guys were like family,” you carefully mention, hands playing with the hair tie on your wrist.

“It’s cool. I get it, I mean we both know Domi,” he stammers out and his own hand goes to rub at his chin.

This conversation isn’t what either of you expected and you shift up in your seat, trying to change the topic at the mention of your best friend.

“So what’ve you been up to?” you ask and he smiles at the gateway question, eager to get rid of the uncomfortable energy.

“Got signed to a record label,” he murmurs and the smile that takes over your face is unreal. There’s pride blooming in your chest.

“No way!! Oh my god, congrats dude. That’s killer,” you gush out and his cheeks taint red at your words.

“Thanks,” he says, eyes meeting yours.

“I knew you’d do it. You’re immensely talented,” you continue on as the train comes to a stop.

It’s not yours but it seems to be his. The guys all shout over at him and he’s looking up and then gazing at you, caught between the two options before he makes up his mind.

He doesn’t choose you, you’re not surprised.

“I appreciate you!” he shouts out before running off the car, joining the rest of the guys on the station.

You turn in your seat and wave at them, catching a couple of glares and hesitant waves back before the car pulls away, to the next destination.

The music starts up again and you will your heart to slow down for reasons you can’t even comprehend.

Domi gives you a look as you rush into your room. Usually after work, you spend time in the kitchen, milling around grabbing little snacks as she cooks, but you actually have plans tonight.

It’s the first time you’re going out in months and you take a quick shower before pulling out all the old outfits you’d shoved into the back of your closet.

There’s a nice dress, black with faint traces of glitter and you eye it for a second before deciding against it. This is a fun night with the coworkers, not your insane best friend who’d always managed to get you to dress your very best.

There’s a pair of skinny jeans tossed into a dresser, and you eye the rips in it before pulling it on. It looks good, tight in all the right places and you root around for a shirt that can be just fancy enough.

There’s a nice purple one tossed in the closet, slipping off of a hanger and you grab it before pulling it on and tying it up in the front.

It’s pretty, makes you look just right and you play around with your hair before sitting down and committing to a makeup look.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re throwing your keys, a pack of gum, gloss and your phone into a small purse. It hangs off of your wrist and you take a look in the mirror before stepping out of your room.

“Where are you going?” Domi asks, her tone slightly cold.

“Night out. Coworkers invited me and I couldn’t say no,” you explain, running your hands down the jeans.

“Oh,” her face falls.

“Do I-look good?” you ask hesitantly.

“Yeah. You always do bitch,” she half-heartedly adds and you smile at her.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you say, grabbing a carrot from the countertop.

“I’ll wait up,” she smirks and you nod before heading out the door.

The club’s only a few stops away and when you swipe your metro card again, you groan at how low the funds are running. You haven’t filled it just yet, and the $1.25 flashes up at you, taunting.

“I’m poor,” you scoff at the machine and the girl swiping next to you laughs.

You get in somehow, sneakily using the swinging baby stroller door and by the time the train pulls up, you’re only running a few minutes late.

It only hits you when you sink into the familiar orange seat that you didn’t tell Domi about running into her ex. You know she doesn’t care as much about Colson now, scorchingly refers to him as that one rapper, but it’s an unspoken rule. You always tell if you run into the ex.

Your fingers tap against your phone screen, wondering if texting her is appropriate but you drop it quickly. It’s not a big deal. You’ll just let her know when you get home tonight.

The doors open, you leave and then you’re stalking towards the club doors, eyeing the long line. The bouncer is staring everyone down, and you wade up to the front. You’ve learned enough tricks in the short party lifestyle you’d had.

“I’m with the VIPs,” you flash your ID and then a $5 discreetly tucked under it. He looks you up and down, grumbles slightly before taking the money from you.

The rope opens and you smile before stepping through into the dark. It’s loud inside already, the lights contrasting the slight evening colors from outside. You look around before you spot the team and walk over to them.

“Hey!!!” they exclaim and then you’re being handed a glass, cheering the night as everyone drinks it down.

It’s tequila, stings in the back of your throat and you cough before wiping your mouth, “God, I haven’t had this in so long.”

“See that’s why we needed you out tonight,” one of them goes, checking your shoulder with theirs. You laugh before agreeing and order your drink of choice, chiming into the conversation.

It’s going so well, the night seems to be twinged with good vibes. You feel nice and loose, arm draped over your nearest friend as you two sway at the songs playing.

There’s a commotion at the door and you guys turn towards the bouncer only to see people scuffling around, pushing to get closer.

“Hey dude! I’m playing tonight. Musical guest here!!!” comes a loud voice, and it rings familiar in your head. It’s faint, digging somewhere into the back of your mind and you get on your tip-toes trying to see.

“Fuck you,” someone else spits and it echoes around the club.

The crowd splits open then, and you get a glimpse at old friends, adjusting their hats as they stalk across to the stage.

Rook’s fuming as he walks past you, and you spot the tell-tale crease on his face, the grit of his teeth. It scares you, the memory of it all after late night game losses, the way he would blow a gasket about cheating.

Slim and Baze wander behind him, they seem cooler, always are, but the anger is brimming under and you look away as they pass you.

AJ isn’t there and you guess he’s already in the club. He’s always been the sensible one, stable and ready to take control of the situation when it inevitably turns bad.

Colson’s following the rest but his eyes are on the crowd, hand going out to meet people, smiling at everyone. There’s a faint cut on his lip, blood trickling out and you want to scream at him. He comes up around to where you’re standing, and you step back, let your coworkers high five him as he passes.

He doesn’t see you, it’s better that way.

You order up another drink, ignore the whispers of the pesky rapper as they fill up the air around you. He’s well known here apparently, people aware of him in the scene. They mumble about the fights, the way he never seems to show up without a cut or bruise.

You take a shot, sip at the alcohol, smile fading as your coworker ravishes on about how good looking the musician is.

It takes about twenty minutes, and then the music shuts off. There’s a squeal of microphone feedback and everyone around you ducks, hands rushing up to cover their ears.

“Fuck,” a mumble comes across the sound system.

There’s another shuffle and your friend grabs your arm, pulling you closer to the stage. There’s already people there, milling around, clutching drinks and you try to stay on the sidelines, out of view.

“We should go closer,” he determines and then you’re being pulled forward again, swimming around in the second row.

Colson is standing front and center in all his glory. The shitty lighting makes him glow, and he looks big, energy filling him up. He pulls the mic off the stand and steps back before going, “Afternoon. We are Machine Gun Kelly.”

The name isn’t familiar. You don’t know it and quite frankly, it doesn’t place anywhere either but that’s all you get before the music starts up. It’s weird, a pace you don’t expect from him and then he’s off, singing with a grit in his voice, fingers flying across a guitar draped over his shoulder.

Everyone seems to bob along in the crowd and you do too, losing yourself in the way he sounds, the tone of his voice as he croons. The music is great, drums harsh and strong, guitar loud behind the vocals.

The set’s over quick and you’re slightly sweating by the end of it. He thanks the crowd before jumping off stage, and you immediately retreat back to the bar, anxious to steer clear of him.

Even in your drunken state of mind, it’s a bright red flashing light: Stay away from Colson. Stay away from the guys.

You switch to water for a while, try to stop your head from spinning with the lights. Everyone you came with is somewhere on the dance floor, so when an arm drapes on your shoulders, you freeze up, still facing the bar.

“Hey,” and then you’re looking up at Slim’s face, sweaty and eager.

“Slim,” you breathe out, vice in your chest loosening at the fact that it isn’t Colson. You don’t know why this is better, but it is.

“What’re you drinking?” he asks, hand going up to call over the bartender.

You don’t have the heart to say water, know that he’ll laugh and then get you a beer, so you murmur, “Get me a shot of vodka?”

His smile widens and he shouts the drink order over the counter before dropping his arm, “You sipping the hard stuff now?”

Shaking your head, you respond, “I’ve always drank the hard stuff.”

“Yeah, back when we hung out,” he slips into the banter, and your heart stops. You didn’t realize it had hurt them this bad, that months later, drunk and high off of a good show, Slim still manages to bring it up, voice tightening slightly.

“Look, I’m sorry about all that. I really am,” you start, but then he’s passing you the drink and locking arms.

“Cheers,” he says and you clink your shot glass against his, tipping it back.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out but he throws you a look.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says and then he’s shouting out, “Yo Kells!”

It clicks into place then, the Machine Gun Kelly. It’s his nickname, has been for years apparently since he was rapping in middle school hallways, but he’d always introduced himself as Colson to new friends, let them decide whether the Kells fit him or not.

You hadn’t called him Kells once, in the months of knowing him, had laughed about it a couple of times with Domi, who loved to mock it any chance she could.

“You stalking me?” Kells sleazes out, there’s already a drink in his hand, someone following him around with bright eyes.

“No,” you state, moving away from the counter. The red lights are in full effect, this could end up terribly.

“Seems like it,” he sums up, coming in closer to lean against the bar. His lip is still cut, looks swollen as he approaches you.

“You fucked up your lip,” you state, mind cursing at the lack of filter you seem to have around your best friend’s ex.

“What?” he goes, and then his fingers are rubbing at the fat lip, eyes scrunching, “Guess I did.”

“Well it was nice to see you again,” you try.

“I just got here, you leaving already?” he murmurs, brushing off the person following him.

Slim’s moved to the other end of the bar, Rook’s throwing you a glare.

“Don’t think your friends want me around,” you nod over.

He turns his head and makes some kind of motion. Rook drops his eye contact, head going to duck at the bar. Slim smiles.

“They don’t know what’s good for them,” he mumbles, head turning back. His fingers tap at the bar, and there’s a beer appearing. He smiles at the bartender.

“I’m good for them?” you scoff, there’s a hint of bitterness at your tone, but it’s not directed exactly at them. It isn’t their fault.

“Always have been. The good influence when we would try and do stupid shit,” he says thoughtfully. He’s almost as drunk as you, eyes slightly red.

You laugh at that, “You’re always doing stupid shit. Great set by the way, impressed the fuck out of me.”

“You didn’t expect it?” he says as if you were supposed to have known all his songs by heart.

“I haven’t heard any of your music,” you honestly reply.

“Not even the mixtapes?” he seems shocked.

“No, Domi never sent them to me and you all just assumed so,” you stop yourself, falling into dangerous territory.

At the name drop of his ex, he winces a little, “God she was a fucking head-case.”

“Hey that’s my best friend you’re talking about,” you shout a little too loud. You catch Slim slamming a hand onto Rook’s shoulder. The air becomes stifled.

“Sorry,” Colson offers, taking a long, pointed sip.

You sigh, “Don’t be. She can be a little much sometimes. I’m sorry for how it all ended.”

“You should hang with us tonight,” he calmly says, switching the subject. Your breath catches in your throat.

“I don’t know-“ you start.

He cuts you off, “I get it. If you want, we’ll be here for a while. Find us.”

That’s all you get and then he’s walking towards the gang, slipping into the crowd. You drop your head onto the shell covered bar, groaning out.

The night dwindles down, your coworkers trickle out, slamming messy kisses on your face before walking out. You’re left by yourself soon enough and there’s a pulsing in your head, matching the music vibrating under your shoes.

It doesn’t take long to decide. You want to hang out with Colson and them, with Machine Gun Kelly. It’s a bad idea, you can tell before you’ve even fully determined it, but it’s as if fate’s lined everything up for you. It’s gonna happen.

You push away the nagging thoughts, wander around the club trying to find someone, coming up empty. Everyone seems to have left and you roll your eyes before stepping out yourself. Maybe fate doesn’t want this to happen.

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, you spot Rook across the street, blunt in hand. He hasn’t seen you, looking down at his shoes but you know him well and if he’s around it means the others are close by.

You brace yourself, work up some form of courage and walk over. He looks up at the sound and there’s immediate dislike flashing across his face.

Out of everyone, Rook’s been the most temperamental. You’d thought it was going to be Colson at first glance, but were quickly proven wrong by his friend, by the harshness of his demeanor at times. He doesn’t hide his feelings, and while you respect that, you’re also intimidated by his posturing.

“Hey Rook,” you mumble.

“Y/N,” he bluntly states.

“How have you been?” you try, but immediately know it’s the wrong thing to say.

“Cut the shit. What’d you want?” he bites out, eyes hard.

“Was wondering if I could catch a ride with you guys?” you question.

AJ usually drives them around, his black van large enough for the gang, and his self control strong enough to stay sober. You don’t know if it’s changed since the last time everyone hung out, but you’re hoping it hasn’t for the sake of your almost empty metrocard.

“Why’d you think we drove here?” he’s shrugs, giving you a hard time, and you shake your head wondering if your pride is worth this.

“Never mind dude,” you turn around but then he’s groaning behind you.

“Yeah we’ll take you back home. Kells’ kill me if I let you walk around here drunk. C’mon,” he says and you try to hide your smile as you follow him.

He takes a few more hits before tossing his blunt to the ground, and you’re glad he hasn’t offered you any. It would be too forgiving of him, too close to what you all used to be, and you wouldn’t know what to do if it came to that. Domi would kill you, hell she’d kill you if she knew you were getting into a car with them right now.

He stops in front of the familiar van, opens the door with force and everyone’s shouting inside, clambering over each other. You almost smile at the chaos, the familiarity of it all.

“Y/N!” Colson’s shouting and you do smile then. He slumps over long limbs and comes over to the door, reaching his hand out to you.

“You coming with us?” he asks and you nod before Rook mutters, “She needs a ride home.”

Colson purses his lips before looking back over at you, hand still outstretched, “Yeah, c’mon in. AJ got you.”

It’s late, later than you should be out and there’s a reminder that Domi’s waiting for you back home, wants to hear about your night. Your resolve flickers the minute his hand wraps around yours.

He tugs you in the van, and you follow, stepping in before they all scatter around, making enough space. There’s another girl with them, someone you don’t remember meeting or knowing but she smiles at you and curls into Rook’s side.

The music in the van is almost as loud as in the club, filling up the space. You wonder, not for the first time, how AJ drives like this, how he casually sings along, fist bumping the rest of the guys after a song.

Before you know it, there’s a blunt being passed around. Colson skips you on the first round, and you try not to let it hurt, remind yourself that you’ve stung them harder than this, hurt them worse.

He leans into your space after handing it off, whispers, “You still don’t smoke right?”

There’s a painful twist in your stomach at his question. When you all first met, you wouldn’t smoke blunts with them, hesitant about the strain and Domi’s eyes on you. She hated weed, despised the smell and would always remind you of that fact before you’d all spend the night out.

After the breakup, she’d loosened up on that, didn’t care if you smoked out on the fire escape, and sometimes even joined in, it was weird. Weirder than the fact that Colson somehow remembered all this months later.

“I do,” you whispered back, licking your lips, “smoke I mean.”

“Oh,” he softly says and then the blunt’s coming back around. He barely takes a hit before handing it off to you, pushing your hand slightly with his fist.

“Thanks,” you mumble, smoking it in. It’s strong, brings an immediate rush. You close your eyes.

When you open them, Colson’s too close to you. The red lights flash hard in your head and then the car’s stopping in front of their building.

You don’t even hesitate, “Is it wrong if I come up with you?”

His eyes look into yours, it’s quiet enough that you feel the weight of your statement sink in. This is bad, so bad.

He doesn’t say anything but everyone around you is moving, pulling off instruments and slamming doors. He carefully takes your hand, pulls the blunt out from your other one.

“AJ, we’re gonna chill for a while,” he says, towards the front seat, giving him the blunt. There’s a hum and then he’s opening the door, pulling you out just as he’d pulled you in.

For a second, you hesitate and then you’re falling into him. His arm wraps around your hips, pulls you back up on the sidewalk.

“You okay?” his voice is quiet, the world still moves around you both but it feels like you’re the only two people who matter.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Wanna go home?” he says, and the words hit you for a second before you shake your head.

“No, this is cool,” you tongue out.

You’re both walking into the building then, satisfied with your answers. The manager gives you a once over at the front desk but that’s all before Colson’s thumbing the elevator button.

“What about everyone else?” you murmur.

He looks at them unloading the van and lets out a laugh, fingers tightening slightly against yours as he shakes, “They’re gonna be busy a while.”

You laugh back, try to tamper down the feeling of seeing him full-body laugh for the second time that day. The elevator dings and you step in, he follows.

It’s the same damn elevator as it was six months ago, but there’s something different in the air right now. It’s staticky, thrumming through you and it feels like you’re stumbling right on the edge of something.

The doors close, it’s just you and him. The feeling gets stronger, his fingers loosen against yours. You grip harder and he looks up straight into your eyes.

The door dings open again and he huffs a little, “Forgot to click the button.”

You smile but it feels thin. Your brain is flashing wrong, flashing red, screaming Domi’s name, but your heart is racing, pounding against your chest.

You screw your eyes shut.

He hits the button, the elevator starts going and you step closer to him. His back is against the elevator wall and there’s a calm look on his face, but you can tell he’s nervous, can feel it in the clamminess of his palm where it’s sticking to yours.

“I’m going to kiss you,” you blurt and you don’t even have time to regret the words before he’s pushing into you, lips finding yours within seconds.

They’re warm and softer than you expected. He lets out a groan as you kiss back, and you’re reminded of his cut, the swollen lip he’s sporting now. You move back, rest your forehead against his.

“Sorry, your lip,” you attempt to explain, but he shakes his head, forehead sliding across yours, twisting it.

“I like it,” he mumbles and you smile before kissing him again, feeling his arm wrap around you, pull you closer.

It’s the first time you’ve kissed him, he’s strictly off limits, a forbidden idea, but it feels like everything has suddenly fallen into place. The warning signs dissolve into bursts of serotonin as he makes little sounds, pressed up with your mouth.

The door dings open. You break apart and step out. Is kiss drunk a thing, or are you losing your mind? He grins at you, pulls your joined hands up for a soft kiss brushing on your knuckles.

Your heart flutters right then. If you’re losing your mind, you’re glad it’s with him. Dealing with the aftermath is something you’ll do later, so you push all thoughts of Domi and her complications aside and follow him straight into his apartment, consequences be damned.

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 5 years ago

Text

Gonna Be Home Soon

Time’s passed and things don’t feel better. It’s like settling, accepting, the new normal. But sometimes exceptions can be made to the rules.

My fingers slipped. Part 2 of Away for a Moment.

Enjoy my masterlist

Support me on kofi

________________________________

When Calum’s phone rings at 8:05 am, he doesn’t waste a second to answer it. He’s been anticipating this call ever since the two of you talked last night and you mentioned errands you needed to run in the morning. And there you are, grinning into the camera, the morning sun bright behind you.

“Morning,” you chirp.

“Morning, love,” he returns, falling back into the mass of pillows on his bed. “Waiting for the bus?”

“Nah, the store’s not too far and I’m already half way there.”

He nods, a hum falling over his lips. Your breathing is a little heavy. He can hear the pants as you walk. There’s a bit of a hill on the way there, if his memory serves him correctly. “Sleep okay?”

You shrug, ducking under a tree to take a short cut up to the concrete steps that lead you into the tiny shopping center. “Slept alright. Woke up in the night sweating my ass off.”

“What about your fan?”

“It was on. I had just cocooned myself and got to hot that’s all. What about you? How’d you sleep?”

Calum starts to answer but like his body knows, a yawn interrupts him. “ ‘Cuse me. Slept okay. Still trying to wake up even though I’ve been up for a while.”

“I’m sorry, love. I can let you go. You need rest.”

“No, no, I’m okay.” He doesn’t it say it but you know just by looking at him that even if he were dead tired he’d answer your call. And you know it’s because of the two incidents you told him about while just out. Approached once by men who was too chatty for your comfort—asking too many questions about you personally. And then someone asked for directions which wouldn’t have been weird but they never got off at the stop that you gave them directions for. So when you got off at your stop in front of a gas station you marched right into it and lingered until you were sure the bus had passed.

You don’t regret telling Calum about these strange encounters. And Calum knew you could defend yourself but he didn’t want you to have too. He didn’t like that you had to be on alert and that you were always looking over your shoulder. He knew you would and did still do it in LA with him. He knew all the times you had gone out without before. But he had always been close by. And now he’s not. He’s miles away, across state lines and though he’s not too far it’s still far enough for him to worry more than he did before.

You walk into the Wal-Mart and grab a basket, cradling your phone in one hand. “Wow, it’s kinda quiet in here.”

Calum remembers previous how packed the place was when he helped you move and how you recounted going on a Saturday and immediately regretting it.

“Better hurry,” he teases, looking to Duke who’s now waiting at the edge of the bed. His ears are perked up. Calum picks him up and sets him on his chest.

Your screen when you glance back down is full of Duke’s face and his fur hiding away Calum. But that’s perfectly fine by you. “My boy! Is pops treating you well?”

Duke barks in response to the question. His snout pressing into the screen almost as if that will bring you closer to him. You don’t even realize tears are welling until one falls and hits your screen. “Love you Duke.”

He barks again at the sound of your voice, leaping off Calum to unearth your sweatshirt he buried into the sheets.

“Oh Duke gets tears but I don’t? I see how it is.”

You quickly wipe at your cheeks. “Shut up. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until just then. I know I miss you.”

“Hey, no, I’m just teasing. Is too soon for a visit?”

Calum knows it’s only just over a month. Maybe a full month and a half since the last time he visited. He’s not really sure. All he knows that the days are long. All the clothes you’ve left behind have lost all your scent. Big’s too big and most nights Calum falls asleep on the couch. You text him though well before he falls asleep to make it to the bedroom. You beg him really, knowing that it’s better to have a healthy sleeping schedule. Sometimes he makes it, even sends a selfie from underneath the covers, pouting of course.

In the studio, things feel normal. He can focus on the tasks at hands. And he still can crack jokes. The guys know though. They can all tell that Calum lingers around his phone more so than usual. He takes every call, even the ones that he’d normally ignore because he can tell they’re probably spam. But he takes them know because he can’t be sure it’s not you. Sometimes, he wishes it was you, instead of some bullshit car insurance scam.

The other guys can tell Calum’s a little down in the dumps because when they ask him if he wants to join for dinner, he declines. And it’s not like he couldn’t shoot you a text saying that he’ll have to push back the FaceTime until later, or just hold off until tomorrow. It’s not like you’d flip your shit. But instead, he holds to those FaceTime dates. He holds for the times even if he’s writing, he can glance to his phone and see you riding the bus or walking into your classes.

It’s the new normal and though Calum misses the way it used to be. It’s his new normal that keeps him mostly sane. It’s this new normal that helps Calum orient his days. Monday you text early in the morning to head into your office and you message at every stop too. And then around 2 he can call, after you’re done with one stint of classes. On Tuesdays, you morning starts early but he can call during your morning commute. Wednesdays he knows that it’ll mostly be a text day, you have meetings all in the morning and then classes well into the afternoon. Thursday start to lighten up and you can FaceTime most the day of the day minus the tutoring hours you’re putting in. And Fridays, Fridays are Calum’s solace. He can wake early, knowing you’re up early too, and he can be there for just about everything. It’s your reading day too. So you two talk mostly in the morning while you run errands.

Like today, as you pull out your grocery list, Calum watches you smile at the folks passing you by. “What’s on the list today, love?”

“Batteries. Restock on the veggies and figure out what’s for dinner for the next couple of days. I found these two recipes that I want to try. Just can’t decide on which one.”

“What are they?”

“One’s a chili recipe. Other one is a one pot spaghetti recipe.”

“I vote chili. You can freeze part of the portion for next week.”

You nod, with a hum. “Smart call. Knew I kept you around for a reason.”

Calum laughs, scooping Duke back up into his arms. “Not my devilishly handsome good looks.”

“You’re hot, don’t get my wrong. But it’s what? Two years in now? Good looks don’t make a relationship. But they do help.”

“I see, loving me for my brains. I can’t say I’m upset with that.” The aisle aren’t clear as you walk down. But you pause. Calum can’t really see where, thinks it might be the clothes or close to it. You hold up a cartoon sports bra, wiggling your eyebrows. Calum whistles. “Hot.”

You snort. “I’ll pair it with my school sweatpants.”

“Doubly hot,” Calum snickers.

As you wonder about, you show small things to Calum, laughing together as you goof about in Wal-Mart. You show Calum a T-shirt that says ‘I can’t people today’ stating that you need that saying tattooed to your forehead. Even though you’ve gotten into a routine it’s still hard some days just to deal with any other human being. Calum’s always enjoyed watching you, even if it’s just you reading the ingredients lists on the back of box. And you do it out of habit now, taking the time to make sure nothing has changed in the ingredients list. Depending on what it is, sometimes there’s a recipe.

“How many bags of mango slices do you go through in a week?” Calum asks, watching the package fall into your cart.

You duck your head, speeding down the aisle even though you’re reaching back for another bag. “We do not talk about that.”

“You’re going to have a whole mango budget!”

“At least it’s better than you and your Oreos,” you sass back, waiting for the elderly couple to cross in front of you. “How many packs are you up to in a week?”

“Two,” he states through a mumbles. “But I’m cutting back!”

The giggles dissipate and you warn Calum that you’ll have to put him in your back pocket while you check out. It’s not a bad haul and you’re glad for it. You’re trying to keep the weekly grocery spending low, since the rent’s a little high at your place. With all your groceries bagged, you find your reusable bag and then head for the bus stop. Though it’ll take it a little far out of the way, it beats hauling your groceries up two hills and reduces it to one.

The morning’s growing warmer and Calum can see the beads of sweat as you walk down to the stop. He knows he ought to get up too. He should think about getting grocery, and washing the bedsheets, and scrub the bathroom. He doesn’t want to. He wants to wrap his arms around you and bury his nose in your neck and inhale the smell of your shampoo and body wash.

Once you’re safe into your apartment grocery sitting on the counter, you say your goodbyes. It’s in Calum’s eyes. The way the tears don’t fully form but they do glaze over his eyes and you know. It’s going to be a hard day. And if it weren’t for the 200 pages you had to read between your classes, you would’ve stayed longer on the call. You almost ask if he wants to stay on as you read. It almost crosses your lips.

But Calum sighs. “Guess I gotta let you go, but we’ll talk throughout the day?”

You don’t know if he’s got a busy day or not. It’s Friday and while it’s your easy day, Calum might be buried in some work. So you nod. “Of course.”

The groceries are easy to put up. You settle down for the first half the reading, pen and highlighter at the ready. Calum drops the phone into the sheets and turns onto his stomach, face buried in the pillows. The day will be long if he stays like this. But he can afford himself a little misery, a little grace so that he can sigh about how much he misses you but eventually get his own ass into gear.

Between the grocery, scrubbing the bathroom, three loads of laundry, Calum doesn’t even realize more than half the day is gone and there’s nothing much else to do. But that ache of saying goodbye to you finally comes back and he took today off from the studio. Which might’ve been a mistake. But it’s too late now, so Calum walks into his own office and picks up his acoustic guitar.

He was only going to send it to you. But he didn’t want to inundate you with the same old sad sentiments. And sure, this one was a little different, him strumming as his voice is just above a whisper, to let himself finally release the yearning. But still, he didn’t want to bother you. The texts were less consistent than normal but he also understood when you had reading days you were focused on nothing else but the readings.

Your phone buzzes an alert to let you know about an email. You check it, not sure if it was a student making an appointment for tutoring, but it’s just from the school’s bookstore. “Fucking, now I have anxiety about my email,” you chuckle to yourself.

Then your fingers wonder, you exit the mail app and tap onto instagram. Right in the bubbles up top is Calum’s icon. You tap onto it and see, or hardly see the lamps illuminating him. And it’s dark back at home much like it is where you are. His voice is soft as he croons, his cry out for a return. The semester is halfway done and you know even though you’re going to be soon buried in work for midterms, though mostly for the tutoring and teaching and less of midterms for you, you text Calum.

Gonna be home soon. Just for the weekend. I’ll book a train ticket.

Almost immediately after sending the text, your phone buzzes with a phone call from Calum. “I can come to you,” he rushes out.

“Well, it’s not home.”

“Home’s not a building, not a place,” Calum whispers. “And I know some people are going to say it’s not smart to find home in other people. But it’s too late for me. You make me feel at home.”

“Literally, I’m crying into my books,” you return, wiping your cheeks.

“What time are you free on Thursdays? After 6 is good, right?”

You nod, “Yeah, after 6 I’m free.”

“I’ll see you then. We can try that Indian place you pass on the way to class. And I’ll be there to remind you to drink water when you’re grading.”

A soft exhalation of laughter escapes you. “I definitely need that. See you Thursday.”

#calum hood #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fic #calum hood imagine #calum hood blurb #calum hood x reader #calum hood x reader insert #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer imagine #h writes #away for a moment #gonna be home soon

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ag-celestina-gorillaz · 4 years ago

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Daisies and Daffodolls Day 17: Book Series

Sorry I've been MIA a lot. I've been busy doing sewing stuff (next photo challenge I'll prepare a few weeks in advance). But anyways, I took a pic of Celestina in what would be her meet outfit. Celestina's story is different in many ways than other AG characters. For one thing, she's my Gorillaz OC as well, so her story involves some Gorillaz lore as well, and her story starts at age 11 in middle school in 2016 and goes to at least 2020 when she's 15. Basic outline, Celestina is a cheerful creative girl living in Orbitz Ohio. She was raised by her mom Sharon and her stepmom Mia, (they got married in 2015 when gay marriage became legal in the US), and her dad is Stuart "2-D" Pot, the lead singer of the British band Gorillaz. In her story, Celestina faces many changes, such as her Mom starting a new paramedic job, her dad returning to England to reunite with the rest of Gorillaz to record Humanz, as well as starting her first year in middle school. I'm actually planning to write a whole book, maybe more, about Celestina, and post the chapters here on tumblr. I think I'll go ahead and post the first chapter here as a preview, but I'll post the full story later, maybe with illustrations.

Summary - It's the year 2016, and Celestina is starting her first year of middle school. While she's excited for a fresh start of the new year, she's also nervous. School uniforms, more classes, more teachers, and new classmates. Unfortunately, the school year starts out on a sour note, she barely shares any classes with her best friend, and in homeroom class, she gets paired up with Lucy Phillips, a cold, aloof, yet mysterious, new girl from Britain. Meanwhile, things aren't easier at home either, her dad ends up returning to the UK to reunite with his fellow band members to record their next album, and her mom begins work at her new paramedic job. But when Celestina begins to get close with Lucy, the new girl's iciness starts to melt, and they both learn they have more in common than they thought.

Celestina's Family and Friends

Celestina Damon - An excitable 11 year old girl starting her first year of middle school in the year 2016.

Sharon Damon - Celestina's mother, a practical, but cheerful, lady. She starts working a new job as a paramedic.

Mia Lucci - Sharon's wife and Celestina's stepmother, a funny and kind woman, she's always there when Celestina needs advice. She runs and works at The Leaning Tower of Pizza pizzeria with her twin sister Gina.

Stuart "2-D" Pot - Celestina's father, and lead singer of the British band Gorillaz. He isn't quite wired like other people, but in his own 2-D way, he's very deep, and he's also got a big heart. Despite the troubles that come with being a long distance parent, he loves Celestina immensely and tries to be in her life as much as possible.

Kailey Green - Celestina's next door neighbor and best friend since childhood. A smart and sweet girl, if a little awkward. A self proclaimed theater nerd. Often gives Celestina the nickname "Lessie".

Lucy Phillips - A new girl in Celestina's homeroom, who's family arrived from Britain. She seems mysterious and comes off as cool and guarded, but in reality, she's a little shy, and becomes much kinder and sweeter once you get to know her.

Chapter 1

New Year, New School, New Hope

The alarm clock on the bedside table chirped on and on as Celestina Damon slept in, nestled in her soft, pastel colored, blankets. She was dreaming a wonderful dream; Celestina, rocking a sparkly, purple, galaxy print dress, was singing in front of a sold out crowd on her first performance. Fans in the crowd were holding handmade signs and cheering her name. Here she is posing for pictures with fans! There she is signing autographs! She finishes her last song of the show, wishing the audience a good night. The crowd erupted into a thunderous roar of applause, fans shouting her name "Celestina! Celestina! Celestina! -"

"CELESTINA!!! WAKE UP!!!"

That did it! At the sound of her mom's voice, the young girl jolted up from her bed with a start. "Gah!" she exclaimed. Her wavy blue hair was messy and needed brushing, and she was no longer clad in galaxy print, but rather, blue and white pajamas with panda bears printed all over. Celestina ground the sleep out of her eyes and smashed the "stop" button on her alarm.

"Okay, I'm awake Mom!" said Celestina, slightly irritated. Her mom chuckled.

"Hey, if I let you have your way, you'd be asleep until lunchtime." laughed Mom. "I told you not to stay up too late."

"I didn't stay up late!" Celestina protested, "I'm just, not used to waking up this early." She was kinda right. Today was the first day of the new school year, after three months of staying up and sleeping in later than usual, it can be hard to get back on a schedule.

"Fair enough," said Mom, "but I can't always be around to make you wake up, especially now, you understand?" Celestina nodded. What her mom had meant was that she just got hired to work as a paramedic at a new ambulance company, which meant that some days she had to go in early. Unfortunately, it also means that she would come home later after working many hours, some nights possibly after when Celestina was supposed to go to bed. Luckily, today was only her orientation, which wouldn't start for a few hours, so her Mom could drop her off on her first day of school, but she was still dressed in her work uniform, black boots, navy blue pants with lots of pockets, and a wine red shirt with the ambulance's logo embolized on the left breast, and her curly blonde hair was tied up in a long ponytail.

Speaking of uniforms. Not only was Celestina starting her first day of school, but it's the first day of a new school, specifically, middle school. Okay, so technically this school is a combo middle and high school, so not only does she have to deal with the 7th and 8th graders, but also all the high schoolers as well. And all the students have to wear uniforms. Actually, the uniform itself wasn't that bad, it was pretty cute, the top was a rich shade of purple with a white collar and ribbon, and a white pleated skirt that fell below the knees, had a "sailor suit" sorta look to it, kinda like what an anime character would wear. All the same, Celestina couldn't understand why she just couldn't just wear her regular clothes to school, you know, like everyone did in elementary school. Sigh, another change to have to get used to. Mom caught Celestina eyeing her uniform.

"Well get dressed, hon." said Mom, "And come downstairs for breakfast. I think Mia made some chocolate chip pancakes!" Mmm, just the thought of those pancakes made Celestina's mouth water.

"Okay, you win." laughed Celestina, giving her mom a hug. "I'll be down in a few." After Mom had left the room, Celestina got dressed, brushed and pulled her long wavy blue hair into a ponytail, using a hairband with two pink poofballs on it. Before she left to go downstairs, she looked toward the corner of her room, and saw Scratchy, her fluffy gray bunny, stirring around in her cage.

"Hey there Scratchy!" she cooed, giving the bunny little pats. She then slipped a little chew treat for her to play with. "Be good while I'm at school, okay?"

The young girl grabbed her backpack, filled to the brim with school supplies, and headed downstairs to the kitchen. The aroma of chocolate chip pancakes and maple syrup filled the room. Mom had seated herself at the kitchen table, eating her small stack of pancakes, and Mia, Celestina's stepmom, was busy flipping the pancakes at the stove. Her mother, Sharon, and Mia have only been married for less than a year, but Mia has lived with Celestina and her Mom her whole life. They probably would have married sooner had it been allowed before last year! Mia is a pretty lady, tall, tan skin, and shiny dark brown hair, and she's a great cook. Her and her sister Gina (Aunt Gina to Celestina), run a pizza place called Leaning Tower of Pizza.

"Pancakes, comin' up!" shouted Mia to Celestina. Mia still spoke with a New York accent, despite the fact that she's been living in Ohio for at least 15 years. She served the girl her pancakes before sliding her own onto a plate. Celestina took her breakfast to the table and poured on the sweet maple syrup. She cut a piece and took a bite, mmmm, was so good. Her smile fell slightly looking around the room. She couldn't get used to the empty space at the table.

"What's wrong?" asked Mia, noticing Celestina's frown, "Don't you like chocolate pancakes?"

"I LOVE them!" exclaimed Celestina. "I just wish Dad was here to have some." Mia and Susan exchanged a look of understanding.

"You miss him don't you." said Mia. Celestina nodded.

"Yup!" said Celestina. It was actually more than that. She paused a bit, trying to think of how to put it into words, "I mean, I dunno, I guess I'm also a bit worried, you know, about him leaving again." Celestina's eyes looked down at her pancakes. Talking about stuff like that always made her uneasy.

Celestina's dad, her whole family life in general really, was, well, unusual to say the least. For one thing, her parents weren't married when her mom had her, in fact, they split up shortly before Sharon found out she was pregnant. Whatever, no biggie, there are lots of kids whose parents are like that, people who have children before they got married, or had kids and didn't stay together. However, it was even more complicated in Celestina's case, because her mom is American and her dad is British, meaning it's harder for her to see her dad on a regular basis because he lives so far away. Also, her dad is famous. Celestina's father is none other than Stuart Pot, better known as 2-D, the lead singer of Gorillaz. Yes, that 2-D! It's been awhile since the band did any songs together though, the last album, Plastic Beach, was released when Celestina was 5, but a couple years before that, something else happened, and that's what worried Celestina. For a short while after Celestina was born, 2-D would often call the house to say hi, sometimes even visit. But after a visit that Dad made sometime when she was 3, he had gone on a trip somewhere, and suddenly vanished. Her mom tried to keep calm around her when she asked where Dad was, but even as a kid, Celestina could kinda tell that her Mom was worried about him. The sudden release of a new Gorillaz album didn't help either. At one point, her Mom told her stories that 2-D and Murdoc Niccals, the band's foul mouthed, green skinned, bassist, were taken by pirates and trapped on an island called Plastic Beach, an island in the middle of the ocean made of garbage and spray painted pink. Looking back, Celestina wasn't sure if this all really happened or if this was something Mom was making up, but she knew something happened that made her dad unable to contact her for awhile. Shortly before Celestina was 8, her dad had called her on the phone for the first time in years.

"Celestina, is that you?" said 2-D in his thick Londoner accent, "You sound so big! How old are you now?"

"I'm gonna be 8, Dad!" answered Celestina proudly, "I'm a big kid!"

"8!? Wow! You really grew up!" exclaimed 2-D, Celestina could hear the tears caught in his throat. "I've missed you so much!"

After a brief vacation, or "holiday" as her dad called it, in Guadalupe, he visited Celestina and the family for the first time in a while, right in time for her 8th birthday. And since then, he had been able to keep in better contact, and came to visit Celestina in person more often these last few years, as if to make up for missing out for those last 5 years. She even got to fly with him to England one time and met her grandparents, David and Rachel Pot, for the first time at the amusement park that Grandpop had owned. This year, 2-D stayed in the guest room for a few months, he was able to keep Celestina company during the summer while Sharon was taking paramedic classes, and Mia was working at Leaning Tower. 2-D had been helping Celestina with her budding interest in music, teaching her how to play her new blue Melodica, a small keyboard with a flute-like pipe in it. When they weren't practicing, the father daughter duo would watch scary zombie movies, or listen to some older Gorillaz songs on Celestina's old CD player. On June 23rd, the whole family, and a few of Celestina's friends from school, celebrated her 11th birthday with a bonfire cookout in the backyard. It was a wonderful summer.

But all this fun and excitement of summer had to come to an end. It was now time for school, and just as well, Dad left to go back to England, rather suddenly at that. Somehow, one of his old band mates, Noodle, the guitarist and the only girl in the band, (and Celestina's favorite band member, next to Dad of course), ended up getting back in contact with him. Apparently, the band was getting back together to make a new album called Humanz, which would be released sometime next year. Like always, Celestina was sad to see him leave, but she was also worried too, maybe because a part of her is scared he would go missing again.

Sharon put a comforting hand on Celestina's shoulder. "It'll be okay," she reassured her daughter, "He said he's gonna text us when he arrives to meet the others. Plus, he said you can visit him during spring break."

"I know," nodded Celestina. She finishes up her pancakes, thinking about everything going on. Mom's starting a new job, Dad's going back to England, I'm starting a new year in a new school, and we have to wear uniforms! So far so good, she thought sarcastically. She rinsed her dirty plate in the sink and slipped on her black flats to meet Mom out in the car.

"Are we taking Kailey today?" asked Mom. Kailey Green is Celestina's best friend and next door neighbor.

"No, Mrs. Green wanted to take her this morning," answered Celestina, "but she's picking both of us up after school."

"Okay, good," said Mom, "let's get going, you don't wanna be late," she checks her watch "and neither do I!" she laughed. Celestina gave Mia a hug goodbye.

"Have a good day at school, rockstar." said Mia lovingly. "I'm coming home from Leaning Tower about an hour after you get home from school, okay girlie."

"'Kay 'kay, I got it." smiled Celestina. She gives Mia a fist bump, complete with a little explosion sound effect.

"You have a good day at school," then she turns to Mom "And good luck with orientation Sharon." Mom gives Mia a loving kiss on the cheek.

"Bye honey," said Mom grabbing her keys. "I should be home by dinner tonight." Celestina and her mother wave goodbye to Mia before getting in the car. As Sharon drove on to the school, Celestina sat in her seat nervously, her breakfast doing flip flops in her stomach.

"Are you doing okay back there?" asked Sharon, looking at her daughter in the rearview mirror.

"I dunno," she answered. "Honestly, I'm pretty nervous. Middle school sounds kinda scary. All these classes, new teachers, ugh, no recess, school uniforms," she grimaced. She had so many thoughts, so many "what-if's", that they started coming out one after another. "What if I don't like my teachers? What if me and Kailey don't have any classes together? What if all the classes are too hard? What if I get bullied by the older kids? What if -"

"Celestina!" said Mom suddenly, "sweetie, sweetie, it's alright." She took a deep breath before continuing, "I know this isn't something you want to hear, but I kinda know how you feel. I was nervous starting middle school when I was your age. And, if I'll be fully honest, I can relate to how you're feeling right now. I'm a bit nervous starting this new job."

Celestina looked up in surprise, "You are?" she wondered. "But you said you were excited." Mom gave Celestina a loving smile.

"And I am," answered Sharon, "But I have so many mixed feelings. I'm worried I won't be good enough, I'm worried the boss could be a jerk, or that I won't like my co-workers. So many things can go wrong. But," she paused before continuing, "There are also good things I'm looking forward to as well. I'll be able to use the skills I worked hard learning in all these classes, I'll be able to help people, I'll be bringing home a little more money, which means we will be able to go out more often." she said with a smile. "It's normal to be scared and nervous, it's okay in fact. But you also have so many good things to look forward to. Yes you have more classes, but you get to have more classes you enjoy, like music and art. And even if you don't have any classes with Kailey, you'll always be able to see her because we're neighbors. If you're having a problem, whether it's classes, mean kids, or even a mean teacher, you can always come to me or Mia. I just want you to know, even if the bad things do happen, there are also a lot of good thing to come, I want you to remember that." Celestina thought over what her mom had said. She did have a few good points.

"I did hear that the music department puts on a school musical every year," said Celestina, feeling a bit more hopeful, "And there's all these fun clubs". Sharon's eyes lit up.

"See, there you go!" said Mom.

"It just seems like so many things are changing at the same time." Celestina admitted, "it just feels so fast, I feel like I can barely take a breath."

"I know, it sucks, it really does." said Sharon in an understanding tone. "The funny thing is, is that the only thing that never changes, is that everything changes."

"That's so confusing to think about!" said Celestina laughing.

"Ah, but that's the truth," said Sharon with a chuckle. "But you know what else will never change?"

"No what?" asked Celestina.

"I'll always love you," Mom answered warmly, "The same goes for Mia, and for your dad, we will never stop loving you. You are our child, and nothing will ever change that."

"Aw mom, I love you too!" she exclaimed. At that moment, Celestina's cell phone chirped with a new message. Oops, better silence it before class, she thought, making a mental note. But seeing who the message was from made her smile.

"Ooh I got a text from Dad!" shouted Celestina in excitement. The text read "i made it to studio 13 in london. about to start recording for the new album. I miss you already, but i'm happy to be home again. russ, noodle and murdoc say hi. say hi to your mum for me. love you little panda bear." Celestina smiled at the mention of the special nickname her dad gave her. Attached with the message was a picture. It was a group photo of the whole band in what looked like the inside of a recording studio. Celestina had yet to meet the other band members in person, but she knew who they were from the music videos and interview clips on YouTube, and from a few stories from her dad. There was Murdoc Niccals, the band's bassist, and probably the biggest troublemaker of the band. He has an odd scrunched up nose, and green skin and black hair, sorta made Celestina think of the Gangreen Gang from The PowerPuff Girls. Then there was Russel Hobbs, the drummer, a heavyset black man from New York, with bright white eyes lacking pupils, a result of being possessed by a demon when he was young. He seemed to be the voice of reason in the band, and when he speaks in interviews, he has a gentle voice. Then there was Noodle, the guitarist, and the only girl in the band. Celestina almost didn't recognize her at first, she's so used to seeing her in the music videos back when she was a kid or a young teen, and now she's a beautiful grown up woman! Noodle was not much older than Celestina is now when the band released their first album, and according to her dad, when they were first looking for a guitarist, Noodle traveled from Japan all the way to England, in a FedEx delivery crate, and gave such an epic explosive guitar solo, that the band ended up giving her the part on the spot. Celestina likes to imagine that if they were the same age, she and Noodle would be great friends. And in the middle of the pic was her dad, 2-D himself. He's tall and wiry, the tallest of all the band members in fact, he has spikey blue hair, and due to two separate car accidents (which were Murdoc's fault), he lost his front tooth, and his eyes were injured, they now look like blank black circles. Murdoc gave him the nickname 2-D because his black eyes made it look like he had "two dents'' in his head. Surprisingly, her dad liked that nickname, at this point, the only people who really call him Stu anymore would be Nana and Grandpop, as well as Sharon and Mia. People would often describe her dad as, well, not very bright, sometimes saying he's thick and calling him names like "space cadet", but Celestina doesn't like any comments like that. To Celestina, her dad has his own 2-D way of thinking, and his creativity with making music is where he shines the best, and he's got a kind heart. In the attached picture, all four band mates were smiling (even Murdoc), and that made Celestina happy, seeing her dad and his old friends all back together.

"That's great!" said Mom, "What does the message say?"

"Dad said he got to England safely, he's excited to work on songs again, and that he loves and misses me, plus he sent a pic of him and the rest of the band." said Celestina. "Oh yeah, Dad says hi, and so does Russ, Noodle, and Murdoc."

"Aw that's awesome!" replied Mom, "See, I figured he would make it there okay. How do the other three look?"

"Murdoc is as green as ever," Celestina replied with a laugh, "Russel pretty much looks the same, but Noodle looks so different! She's a grown up lady!"

"Yup, I believe it," said mom with a chuckle. "Oh man, I haven't seen her since you were a baby, she was still a teenager then. Grown up so fast, both of you." she said with a sigh. "It's good they seem to be doing well." She paused, thinking, "I got an idea. We're almost there, why don't we take a few back-to-school pictures of you when we get there, and you can text them back to your dad?"

"Ooh I'd love that!" said a delighted Celestina. She was quiet for a bit before continuing. "Hey, I know I was sad before with Dad leaving, but, well, it's also really cool that the whole band is back together and they'll make more songs again."

"I know, I can't wait to hear them," agreed Mom, "but like I said earlier, it's okay to feel sad about missing him. Just don't forget that there are also a lot of good things to look forward to."

"I understand," answered Celestina. Mom had just pulled up to the school. There it was, Orbitz Public School. Mom was lining up to park at the entrance where the middle school classes were. While Celestina had seen the school many times when going on errands with her mom's around town, today the building somehow seemed larger and more intimidating. Her breath slowed down and her hands grew sweaty the closer they got to the entrance. Mom had found a parking spot and Celestina nervously left the car, carrying her backpack.

"This place is way bigger than South Lincoln," remarked Celestina, referring to her elementary school. Sharon gave Celestina's hand a comforting squeeze.

"I know it's scary," said Mom. "But you got this." Even though Celestina was still nervous, she somehow felt a bit better with her Mom hyping her up.

"I got this!" repeated Celestina.

"You're the star of your own stage," encouraged Sharon, "You knock 'em dead!"

"I'll knock 'em dead!" repeated Celestina, feeling pumped. "Oh yeah, let's get that picture taken to send to Dad" she remembered. Celestina and Sharon walked around to find a spot with good lighting in the courtyard.

"Ooh, we can take one here," said Celestina, handing the phone to her mom. She struck an adorable Sailor Moon style peace sign pose in her new uniform with the school in view in the back. After the picture got taken, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.

"Huh," said Celestina, before turning around to see her best friend, "Oh hey there Kailey!"

"Hi Lessie!" greeted Kailey, using the nickname she used for Celestina since they were little. Kailey was wearing the same purple and white school uniform that Celestina was wearing. She kept her short brown hair in her natural curls, and her red square glasses framed her blue eyes. The giggly girls greeted each other with a hug, before realizing that both their moms were standing by with their phones.

"Smile you two," said Mrs. Green. Both girls smiled for the camera with their arms around each other.

"Perfect!" exclaimed Sharon before handing Celestina her phone back. Celestina then quickly sent both the pics to her dad with a special message.

"So glad you made it home safely Dad. Mom and Mia say hi back. Today is me and Kailey's first day of school. Can't wait to see you again, and maybe meet the rest of the band (even Murdoc lol). Have fun recording. Love you lots! We got this!"

Shortly after she sent it, her dad replied with another quick "I love you", and Kailey got Celestina's attention.

"C'mon Lessie," said Kailey, "We still need to get our schedules."

"Oh my, that's right!" exclaimed Celestina. "We gotta get going!"

The girls gave their Moms a quick hug and said goodbye, and headed into the school. Celestina still felt a bit nervous, but she felt a lot better than this morning. She headed inside the front doors of the school with Kailey, walking through the purple and white crowd of students, feeling determined to take on the day no matter what happens.

"Celestina, you're on!"

#american girl fan character #american girl oc #celestina damon #gorillaz #gorillaz oc #american girl #american girl doll #gorillaz fan character #daisies and daffodolls #long post

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kyliexc · 5 years ago

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HOLA BITCHACHOS ! it me, mini and we out here again, FINALLY ! to everyone new, i’m excited to meet you all , love you down , scare you , and plot ! hmu on discord 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐢 🔥#0644( is better ) , but if not imma try my best to get to you ASAP ! to all my old peeps . . . . 😈 😈 😈 😈

* for stats, and the past etc , if ur curious , you can read all of kylie’s intros HERE

chicago’s very own kylie castillo has been spotted on madison avenue , with a striking semblance to Becky G ! you may know them as @kyliebby or hitting the front page of tmz as Chicago spitfire returns with a crash . according to tmz , you just had your 22nd birthday bash . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re competitive , but being confidents might help you . things that would paint a better picture of you would be acrylic nails, a lit up joint and oversized sunglasses .

*** i haven’t rpd since we went on hiatus , soooooooooo , pray for me 😂

* QUICK STATS !

FULL NAME: kylie valentina castillo NICKNAMES: ky, kyky, k, kybby AGE: 22 HEIGHT: 5 ft BIRTHDAY: April 15th ZODIAC: aries HOGWARTS HOUSE: slythindor (slytherin + gryffindor) ETHNICITY: mexican NATIONALITY: american GENDER: cis female PRONOUNS: she/her ORIENTATION: bisexual RELIGION: agnostic-catholic TATTOOS: a peach on her ass, #2 tramp stamp and canon becky g tattoos

* BACKSTORY !

kylie is the first and only child of andres castillo, and third child of valentina castro. kylie’s parents had her at 20 during the time her mother lived in mexico for a year . thankfully her dad’s family were well off and could afford to take care of the child ; her parents tried making it work for about two years, her dad taking on the role even for her half brother but because of the class difference between her parents families, and the different careers, plus the stress of young kids , it didn’t work out.

growing up, kylie lived in mexico up until she was 8, moving to LA to live with her dad’s family, but by the time she was 9 , she was bouncing between LA and CHICAGO , not really living with her parents but her family members, primarily her grandparents and uncle ( tito ) . her parents were young , and they wanted more for themselves . her dad rose to be a star soccer player in mexico , also playing for both Barcelona fc and Real Madrid fc . her mother started up a health and beauty business in Chicago called VIVA ESTHETICS , specializing in skin care , makeup , nails , hair , etc . the company blew up with having notable clients and giving upscale service .

needless to say , her parents gave kylie and her siblings ( mainly half , besides one ) everything they wanted materialistically , but nothing physically or emotionally . kylie didn’t even grow up with most of her siblings ( her parents bounced around a lot ) , she grew up with her cousins , whereas she’d having a couple annual meetings with her own parents and siblings .

kylie was in LA for the rest of her childhood , living in chicago just for middle school before attending 4 different high schools in a different place every year because she’d be bouncing between family ( . . . . and just getting kicked out . ) Madrid/Barcelona (gr9) , London (gr10) , Los Angeles (gr11) and Chicago (gr12)

* PERSONALITY !

her growing up was messy , and not consistent , but kylie has a big heart for those that have been with her since day 1 ! even when she bounced around a lot , she was always super close with her grandparents on both sides , constantly calling them , or on facetime . she even has a favourite uncle ( tito ) from her mom’s side . tito pretty much was kylie’s older brother growing up , you know , he was the teenage uncle teaching his niece to swear as a baby lol . kylie learned being bad from seeing , she’s ALWAYS been stubborn , so when someone tells her she can’t hang with the boys , or won’t steal a car - - - - you bet kylie will do what you told her she can’t , and she’ll prove it with a cake face of makeup .

tito was a producer growing up , working with street artists and always making beats in his room . that’s where kylie got an appreciation for music . so whenever she was skipping class , she’d be in the studio , making excuses as to why she’s not in class and no one questioned her .

when she was in school , she wouldn’t listen , be that kid in the back of the class sleeping , or just not paying attention . and when she was in the halls , she’d get into SOME kind of fight , sometimes without even asking for it .

music was the one constant for her, so while she was skipping class , kylie was producing her own music, constantly making videos and on social media promoting herself, and she was successful at 13 ! signing to a label , and being groomed by said label over the years , releasing a few eps . she gained recognition through her freestyles online and her features on songs at 18 , going on to sell arenas , win awards , and a lot of things .

* WHAT’S GOING ON NOW . . .

about a year ago , kylie dropped her first album , a few months after that , she kinda just disappeared from being in the public eye . this b*tch literally GHOSTED EVERYONE . she didn’t give anyone a clear reason , even her fans were confused . it’s been pretty rare to catch a photo of her , and when you do it’s weeks or months between .

behind the scenes , she’s become a producer for her own roster of artists , creating her own minor label , a sub division of sony records , FRENCH KISS RECORDS , that no one knows she owns or is behind . she’s trying something new after being known as the spitfire . . . which she is , but she’s been chilling after dropping almost everyone .

about a week ago, kylie dropped a teaser on her instagram for a new collaborative song , and the next day , photos of her moving back to new york were all over TMZ . . . . and that’s all folks , we’ll see what chaos this shorty createssss :)

oh and she has a black cat named mijo , who is her child . that is all .

#wealthyhq:intro #oh wow #im rusty af #SKSKSK #chileeeeee this took me awhile #thats right i rlly called her shorty LOOOL #ok #imma get to mssges and read everyones intros <3

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winzenni · 5 years ago

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wooden clock (mark lee)

Summary: you’re paired up to help the new student in woodshop class, a nice boy who goes from being a stranger to an enemy to a friend. ft. bully!Jaemin

Genre: angst, fluff, high school!au ?

Pairing: Mark Lee x reader

Word count: 1.97k

“Y/n, despite your size, you’ve been excelling in this class. I know you’ll be a great help to the new student,” said your woodshop teacher. “Just work together on the next project, then we’ll let him work on his own on the next unit.”

“Um… sure, I guess.” you agree. When you first signed up for woodshop, it was just because the electives you really wanted to take were already full. It wasn't something you were particularly interested in, but after the first semester, it turned out you were a natural, detail-oriented in the crafts you made and extremely precise despite your short height. Though you struggled to handle and lift the machinery most of the time, your instructor consistently praised your clean work. You were just here to mind your own business and pass the class, not make friends with the rambunctious wood shop kids who talked about weird shit. But it's not like you could say no to your teacher now.

“Hi, my name is Mark,” he says, putting his right hand out for a handshake, as he pulls out a chair beside you. “Mr. Slater told me to sit next to y-”

“I know. I'm y/n,” you say, greeting him with your eyes and ignoring the hand. Interacting with people was not your thing. Especially in this class. Everyone's personalities and interests just seemed to clash with yours, a quiet and reserved personality who preferred two-dimensional soft paintings rather than three-dimensional physical crafts that required blades and loud machines.

Mark seemed like a nice kid. He had moved here from Canada and he seemed like someone who could make friends easily, with all the (sometimes funny, sometimes not) jokes that he cracked and his contagious laugh. Yet each day, he only sat by you and talked to you.

“What do I do first?” He asks.

“You have to cut the planks with the saw machine. Line up your marking with the red line here,” You demonstrated, placing your piece in the slot. “Then you just pull down the blade to cut it.”

You had to tiptoe a little bit to reach up and grab the handle of the saw machine. You felt Mark watching your every move over your shoulder. With his gaze burning into your back, the machine handle felt heavier than the last time you had used it.

“I-I got it,” Mark says, sensing your struggle. He reached over you to pull down the blade, slicing through the wood plank almost effortlessly. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” you say, a little embarrassed. You were supposed to be helping him, yet his height and strength gave him an advantage in the work that you couldn't have.

It was also kinda cute. Watching him control the blade so effortlessly though he didn't know what he was doing.

Each day, you began to find something admirable and adorable in all of Mark’s actions. The way he didn’t know how to hold an awl, the way he looked so focused when measuring, the way his cheekbones beamed when he smiled to greet you each day.

As the weeks passed, you became closer and more comfortable with him in class. Some of his jokes were getting funnier and funnier to you, and you began to think that he might be someone cool you could hang out with outside of class. However, as his personality blossomed into a more colorful, extroverted persona, he also became more popular in school, making friends in his classes easily and getting along with the oh-so popular Jaemin’s friend group, which made you a little uncomfortable. In middle school, Jaemin had made you do his homework for him each day, knowing that his social presence intimidated you and that you were too shy and quiet to go against him.

Yet every woodshop class, Mark remained by your side, unknowing of your history with Jaemin, reminding you that you could never truly be friends with him.

At the end of one class, you left the classroom trailing closely behind Mark, but unexpectedly saw Jaemin waiting for Mark by the door. You avoided Jaemin’s eyes and tried to leave quickly without saying anything, but of course Mark had to speak up.

“See you tomorrow, y/n,” Mark said, raising a hand to wave goodbye.

“You know her, Mark?” Jaemin said with raised eyebrows. “Y/n, long time no see,” he sneered, his devilish gaze piercing through you.

“Yeah, she’s my woodshop partner.”

“That’s interesting... See you around again maybe, y/n,” Jaemin said, cocking his head with a slight smile, as if the fun memories of bullying you were playing through his mind again.

The interaction with Jaemin had you completely out of it the next day. Whenever you tried to clear your mind, the image of Jaemin mocking you replayed in your head, bringing back bad memories, and seeing Mark in class didn’t help.

You held the awl in your hand, grinding it against the wood to create a hole. While grinding it into the wood, you were so lost in thought that you had embedded it in there.

Mark interrupts your clouded thoughts. “Isn’t that deep enough, y/n?”

“-hm? O-oh, yeah, my bad.” You had to use some extra arm power to tug it out of the wood, scratching the sharp metal tip against your palm in the process when the awl finally came out.

“Ow! Fuck!” you exclaim, dropping the awl.

“Are you okay?” Mark asks, his eyes widening with concern shining in them. His hands reach to turn over your palm and check the gash, but you pull your hand away from him and press it against your jeans to stop the bleeding.

“I'm fine,” you say. Why did you agree to this? To have this new student on your tail for the past months, watching your every move, asking so many goddamn questions. And worst of all, acting like he cared about you. You only saw him for an hour each day, but every minute of it was filled with thoughts of Mark. His cute smile, his cute cluelessness. Even when you wanted to escape him, you couldn't. Because he was assigned to follow you around. And at the end of each class, he linked arms with Jaemin, reminding you that your life was destined to have not one good thing in it.

“Y/n,” Mark started, watching the blood smear across your skin. “Y/n, I’ll get some-”

Without responding, you got up and left to go to the bathroom.

Staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you glared down your pupils. You were nothing. Just an accessory to the lives of people like Mark and Jaemin. Every interaction with Mark, every question, every statement seemed to mock your quiet lifestyle and introvertedness. Grabbing some paper towels, you clumped them together and wiped your palm before heading back to class with a weighted frustration in your chest.

You were tuned out for the rest of the week, ignoring Mark’s jokes and responding dryly to his questions. As you pass the clock to Mark for him to take turns working on it, you tense up, making sure to avoid brushing your fingers against his.

When the bell rang, you grabbed your bag and dashed for the door, wanting to leave Mark as far behind as possible. The closer he was to you, the more you were reminded of your experiences with Jaemin. You pushed open the door, making eye contact with Jaemin waiting beside it.

As you stormed away from the classroom, Jaemin raised his eyebrows, surprised that you weren’t beside Mark today. He decided to change it up today and chase after you.

“What’s wrong, y/n? Why aren’t you following Mark like a dog today?” He sneered, walking closely beside you despite you trying to speed up your pace.

“Wow, am I not worthy enough of a response from the great y/n?” He tilted his head to try to look into your eyes, but you avoided his gaze. “It’s been such a long time since I got to talk to you, y/n.” In the crowded hallways, Jaemin’s mocking words became muddled with the footsteps of other students rushing to get to lunch, and the loud chatter between friends. You just wanted to escape the chaos and get home.

“Y/n, why do you think you’re too good to answer me?” Jaemin teased. “Talk to me, bitch,” he said, twisting the strands of your ponytail around his finger before pulling on it, jerking your head back.

“A-ah!” you reached back to remove his grip from your hair, but before you could find his hand, another one was already locked around Jaemin’s wrist.

“Jaemin, what are you doing?” Mark asked, his knuckles turning white in their tight grasp around Jaemin’s wrist.

“Oh, Mark, there you are.” said Jaemin. “Y/n and I used to be good friends in middle school, if you didn’t know.”

“I-I don’t think -- Jaemin, I think you went too far,” Mark says. “Come on, y/n, let’s just go.” Mark lets go of Jaemin’s wrist to grab yours and lead you away.

“What was that all about?” Mark asks.

You figure you might as well just tell him the truth. “-and I-I just didn’t want to get too close to anyone that affiliates with Jaemin. That’s why I didn’t feel like talking to you the past few weeks.”

Mark didn’t know what to say. He felt guilty for outwardly befriending someone that had hurt you so much. He felt ashamed for befriending someone that was such a mean and disrespectful person. He felt regretful that he couldn’t notice the signs and be there for you. He felt thankful that you had told him the truth and deemed him someone that you could trust and confide in. And most of all, he felt like he wanted to protect you. From Jaemin, from anything. He wanted to be in your life.

From that day on, instead of parting ways after woodshop, you headed together with him in the same direction, to eat lunch together. He was no longer with Jaemin, and you were no longer alone.

You became inseparable, eating lunch together, working on your wooden clock together, studying for science and math exams together. Your feelings for Mark grew more and more each minute you spent with him, but you didn’t want to risk losing the friendship, so you repressed those feelings. It had been this hard for you to make a real friend, you were not going to lose him so easily.

On the last day of the wooden clock assignment, the finishing touch was to engrave a phrase onto the back of the clock. It could be your name, the name of the receiver of the clock, a shape, or anything you wanted. As Mr. Slater explained the process, Mark whispered to you, “Can I do this part all by myself? Please?”

“Sure,” you say. It would be nice for him to do a day of assignments completely by himself before he’d have to do the next project alone anyway.

Throughout the period, he toils away, staring intensely at his engraving on the back of the clock, carving carefully and meticulously while you work on assignments from another class.

With five minutes left in the period, Mark says excitedly, “I’m done! Y/n, look, look.”

You raise your head from your book to see the small words carved on the back of the clock: Will you go on a date with me?

#nct imagines #nct fluff #nct angst #nct x reader #mark x reader #nct 127 #nct #mark lee #nct 127 scenarios #nct scenarios #nct 127 fic #jaemin #bully!jaemin #nct fic #nct high school au #nct school au

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captainaudreyjensen · 5 years ago

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new beginnings

Prompt: hi! idk if you take requests still, but can you do an imagine with audrey where y/n, audrey and noah have a horror night together and noah mistakenly puts on a movie where an animal dies ( maybe either hereditary or the conjuring ), even though y/n draws the line at horror films with animal deaths? then it really shakes y/n up a lot and audrey ends up comforting her.

This was a really cool request because I also hate when animals die in horror movies

Words: 1951

Warnings: swearing and mention of a animal death I do state before the paragraph that it happens. The film is the babadook, so spoiler warnings and also its a dog.

Following the murders, it had become something of a tradition with Audrey and Noah to hold a movie night every Friday. Once a month they’d invite the rest of the Lakewood Five, every now and again Stavo would join and occasionally they’d invite whoever they’d happened to be seeing at the time.

You were relatively new to town and you’d fallen in with Noah pretty quickly as you were smart and funny. You also happened to be openly *your sexual orientation* and taking the same classes as him. From the start he’d pegged you as a good match for Audrey as you had the same style, sense of humour and, well, Lakewood was a small town, the pickings were slim.

Noah had waited a few weeks for you to settle in before he brought up the idea, but recently he’d become more insistent. Today had been no exception, he’d caught you as you left the last class of the day and done some insisting.

“You’re perfect for her, Y/N. You’re so sweet, you’re smart and funny,” he’d laughed “and you have no random ties to Lakewood from a past life that might come back to haunt us,” a cautious pause, “that we know of.”

Honestly you quite liked the idea. Audrey had always been nice to you, she was funny, and so hot; but you didn't want to push it or force anything on her that she wasn’t super into. Because of this, you’d resisted getting to know her too well. You were also immensely aware of the fate of her exs. Audrey had been devastated by Rachel’s death, and though she had dated a couple of other girls, none of them had seemed to work out. It was no secret that all of the girls of the Lakewood Six had struggled with their relationships after the Kieran revelation.

“I really don’t know, Noah,” you’d replied, “is this something you’ve even discussed with Audrey?”

“Uh, well,” he’d laughed, flustered, “not exactly.”

“Okay then,” you smiled, but you felt a little hurt, “bye Noah.” Why had he been so persistent if Audrey didn’t even know it was a conversation he was having?

“Y/N, please,” he grabbed your arm, “hear me out.”

And you did. He explained that Audrey had told him (on separate occasions) that she felt she was ready for something new, and -in passing- that she thought you were cute. “I know she’s ready, I just don’t want to push too hard too soon,” he’d told you.

You nodded, still unsure, the last thing you wanted was to be something Audrey would regret.

“So, I was thinking,” Noah was ecstatic, like he’d just had the greatest epiphany of all time, “you should come to movie night tonight.”

“Isn’t it an invite only, private movie night, just for you guys?” ��Well, kinda. But it’s also a way for you guys to hang out outside of school, no pressure.”

“And the group won’t feel weird that I’m there?” “It’s just Audrey and I tonight,” he couldn’t have been more proud of himself, “and you, of course.”

You’d attempted to tell Noah that you weren’t sure, especially because you weren’t 100% clear on anything other than the ‘movie night’ part, but before you could say anything else Noah was out the door, yelling “see you there, text you the details” as he ran.

You aren’t even sure whose house you’re arriving at as you pull into the driveway. Your watch reads 8:45; you’re early, but only just. You grab the snacks from your passengers seat -if you were going to come you were going to come prepared- and head for the door. You only have to wait a few seconds after ringing the bell before the door opens and you’re greeted by Audrey.

“Oh, Y/N,” Audrey exclaimes, dressed in a black tank top and plaid PJ pants. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

Of course Noah didn’t tell her.

“Noah invited me,” you blurt, hoping you don’t look as embarrassed as you sound.

“Cool,” Audrey nods, “you’re early, though. Like, super early.”

“Noah said nine?”

“It’s usually nine thirty,” Audrey nods.

“Oh,” you feel your cheeks burning. “I brought snacks,” your arm flies up, and the snacks fling around in the bag.

“Reusable,” she smiles, “that’s cool,” Audrey says as she steps out of the way, gesturing for you to come in.

“Yeah,” you smile, “save the environment and all.”

“Sure.”

It’s so awkward you could kill Noah.

Audrey leads you into the kitchen and stops on one side of the counter, “can I get you a drink?”

“Uh, sure,” you say, looking around, “your house is so quiet.”

“Yeah, my dads out for the weekend,” she pauses and smiles, “business and all,” she mocks your awkward remark from earlier.

You laugh, starting to unpack the bag as she pours you a drink.

“Wow, you really brought everything,” Audrey laughs, impressed.

“Oh yeah,” you remark, “I come prepared.”

“These are my favourite!” Audrey exclaimes, picking up a packet of sweets.

“Mine too,” you laugh, “I brought ‘em in every flavour.”

“Nice.”

Audrey pulls out bowls, and you start filling them with all your supplies. Time seems to pass at an exceptional speed, because before you know it, Noah’s knocking at the door.

“He’s late,” Audrey states matter-of-factly, before grabbing and opening another packet of chips.

“So you’re not letting him in?” you laugh. “Not immediately,” she smiles, shrugging, “he made us wait.”

You spend a couple more minutes in the kitchen filling bowls and chatting, and almost forget about Noah altogether.

Noah, however, refuses to be forgotten; knocking incessantly until the door opens.

“Took you long enough!” He exclaims, pushing past Audrey. “Oh, hey, Y/N.”

“You’re late,” Audrey states, crosses her arms; she looks so cute when she’s pretending to be mad.

“But I brought snacks,” Noah smiles, holding up a bag of popcorn and a chocolate bar.

You gesture to the table you and Audrey have spent the past almost hour filling with chocolate, sweets, chips and popcorn -among other things.

“Woah, where’d all this come from.”

Audrey smiles at you, and you state, “I like to come prepared.”

“Well then,” Noah winks at you, “let's get this party started.”

Audrey turns to you, “it’s Noah’s turn to pick films this week, so they’re probably going to be some outdated indie films with a very disjointed plot.”

“Classics, Audrey, not outdated. And by the way, they’re classics for a reason,” Noah smiles, “but no, actually this week I was thinking: new cult classics.” “How can they be cult classics if they’re new,” you smirk.

“They just are,” Noah huffs, falling onto an armchair.

You nod, taking a seat on the couch. Audrey sits next to you, almost a bit close.

“So what are we watching, then?”

“We’re starting with the Babadook, then It Follows and finally Cabin in the Woods.”

“Cool,” you nod, you haven’t seen any of them but you’re open to it.

“Shall we begin?” Noah asks, grabbing the remote. You and Audrey nod as he types, Babadook into the menu.

Audrey gets up to turn out the lights, you grab a bowl of popcorn and watch as the film starts. Audrey sits back down and shuffles closer to you, placing her hand in the bowl; your stomach settles, maybe this won’t be so bad.

The first half of the film wasn’t for you but as it progressed Audrey had moved incrementally closer, and as the film reached its climax she was almost in your lap. You had pretty much stopped focusing on the film altogether, and you were fine with that, Audrey smelt like sandalwood and vanilla. You’d been watching what was happening on screen but -with almost no context- it made little sense.

*animal death mentioned*

You were up to a part where the Babadook has possessed Amelia, and just as you were starting to get back into the film, it happened. Amelia breaks the neck of the poor little dog.

*mention over*

You jump at the sight of it, immediately feeling ill. Tears well in your eyes, and you begin to struggle to breathe.

Audrey turns to you, concerned.

“Are you okay, Y/N.”

Tears stream down your face, and you choke out a, “yeah.”

Audrey isn’t convinced, “Noah, turn it off,” she says, growing concerned.

“But this is the good bit,” Noah wines, “she’s just about to-”

“Fucks sake, Noah, turn it off!” Audrey yells. She pulls you closer to her.

This time Noah compiles, jumping for the remote. You’re still in shock.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, “it’s fine,” you repeat with mascara stained cheeks.

You try your hardest to hold it in. It's just a movie, you tell yourself. But you can’t control yourself as you start to sob. You feel yourself curl up, resting your head in the crook of her neck.

“Y/N,” Noah realises what’s going on, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise.”

Now you’re the one almost in Audrey’s lap. You feel her hand on your back where your shirt has started to lift; it's warm on your bare skin, slowly moving to soothe you. Her other hand sits on the back of your neck, fingers at the start of your scalp.

You forget what it was that you were crying about. All you can think about is how good you feel being held by Audrey. So comfortable; so safe.

You’re reminded of how good Audrey smells; the sandalwood and vanilla from before are mixed with the butter and salt of the popcorn, as well as the sweet raspberry and grape of your favourite sweets. She smells delicious, and you become overwhelmed by your urge to kiss her.

You don’t remember when you stopped crying but suddenly you have. Everything is still. You lift your head from Audrey’s shoulder, staring up at her.

“You okay?” she asks.

You nod, realising Noah is no longer in the room.

Your back feels cold as her other hand moves up to your neck. Audrey wipes away a streak of your mascara, resting her thumb on your cheek. She now cradles your face in her hands, her eyes darting between your lips, tear stained cheeks and your eyes.

She hasn’t moved to kiss you but she hasn’t moved away, so you inch forward. Audrey closes the gap, leaning her forehead against yours. You close your eyes, brushing your lips against hers. They’re soft. Her scent is so strong now, you feel like you could get drunk on it.

Smiling, you pull back; Audrey lingers. Her eyes open and she smiles at you. You laugh, unsure of what to say.

Audrey pulls you back in, kissing you again but harder. Her left hand finds its way to your waist. Your right hand moves up, resting on her cheek.

You hear Noah re enter the room, but you aren’t sure of what he said. You and Audrey pull apart, and she gives you a peck, before turning to look up at Noah.

“What up, mood killer?” she questions.

“I was just going to ask if you guys wanted to watch a different movie maybe? But I can leave again,” Noah heads back in the direction of the kitchen.

“It’s okay,” you and Audrey say in unison, laughing at the coincidence.

“We can watch another one,” Audrey says, before turning her attention back to you, “do you want to stay tonight?”

You simply nod.

Noah smiles at the two of you together and nods before saying, “how about just Scream?”

“A classic,” you laugh, “sure.”

Noah sets up the film. You and Audrey shuffle around on the couch intertwined, trying to get comfortable.

#scream #audrey jensen imagines #imagines #audrey jensen #audrey jensen scream #noah foster #mtvscream

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vanchlo · 5 years ago

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The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Seven, “The Tables Have Turned”

Clickable Links:

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and POV surveys

- Inspo tag

- Playlist

SNEAKYYYYYY PEEEEEK

“At least I had my orientation with Harry to look forward to that coming Friday, but I still wouldn’t start at his firm for another week after that. The anticipation was killing me, and so were the little moments Harry and I shared when I happened to remember them. Sometimes I wish the alcohol had stolen those memories away, because they hurt too much to remember, but then at other times I’d never wish them away, because they give me something irreplaceable - hope.”

Music Inspo: Everywhere by Niall Horan (click to listen)

“You think I like having you in here, destroying everything that was me until all that’s left is you and a dead shell? You're all I bloody think about ... dream about. You're in my gut ... my throat ... I'm drowning in you.”

- Spike, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (S5 x E14)

“How’s yer dad doin’?” Harry asks me when I return to my seat across from him, the soda threatening to spill over the top of my cup.

“He’s doing good, thanks. It took a while for his energy to come back, and sometimes he gets tired easily, but it’s a process,” I answer, plucking a chip from the small white bag and drenching it in the yellow queso. “He’s pretty happy to have all of his hair back, and he’s started to get back into running and lifting weights. Late last summer he started back to work where he does construction.”

“Wow, I feel like I learn mo’ ‘bout yer dad e’ry time we talk ‘bout him. I didn’t know he was into weights and all that, good fer him. Bloody hell he’s like superman. Ya dunno how happy I am t’ hear he’s back on his feet, and doin’ well,” he murmurs with a gentle warmth adorning his features.

It spreads with a spark across my skin when I feel his fingers wrap around mine, squeezing my hand. I’m guilty again with an absence of words when I look back into his eyes, all syllables stolen away from me at the sight and by his gesture. I don’t need to say anything though because unspoken words pass between us as he stares back at me, memories unraveling from all of the times he showed up for me. I still don’t know how I could have ever doubted he cared about me.

“Thank you,” I reply emphatically, squeezing his toasty hand in return. His thumb brushes along the back of my hand before letting it go.

“Welcome, Becks. ‘m sorry I wasn’t there at tha end t’ celebrate,” he responds softly, sadness laced throughout his words as his head falls. His eyes avoid mine as he picks up a few pieces of shredded cheese that fell onto the wrapper laid in front of him.

“It’s okay, Harry, we both kinda forgot.” His head of curls goes up and down at my softly spoken words that only brush the surface. Regardless, I think that it did the job and he knows what I mean. We both know that we ignored the other and forgot, whether on accident or purpose. “I guess there are several reasons for our celebratory dinner and drinks.”

“Very true, bug,” he agrees, the dimples finding their way back onto his cheeks once again. The itchy nervousness abates when his eyes lift again to mine and he holds out his half-eaten taco, grease and warm sour cream dripping from it. “Cheers t’ yer dad’s recovery, catchin’ up with old friends, and tha best o’ all - Becks gettin’ tha associate position at me firm workin’ with me. ‘m excited t’ see what tha future holds for me new favourite lawyer.”

“Stop it, or else I’m going to start crying, and you’ve seen me cry more than enough,” I smile, blinking back the tears as I hold out my taco and bump it against his. “Cheers to new beginnings, Harry.”

“Cheers, Becks, and ‘s okay if ya cry. Happy tears are good too.”

“Very true,” I agree, taking a page from his book before I finish the rest of my taco, a silence falling over our table. It’s replaced with crinkling of wrappers, sips of soda, chewing of crunchy chips and chocolatey churros, and stolen glances at the other.

“How’re Skye and Robbie these days? What’re they up t’?” he inquires, squashing the wrapper of his third taco into a ball that he sets on the side of the tray for our trash. I watch as he plucks a quesadilla from the stack of dwindling food, but he stops and grabs a churro as well with a sly grin. “Hey, they’re fer me too.”

“Harry,” I warn teasingly, a giggle peeking out from my words which he quickly echos, although accidentally. “Um, they’re both good. Skye got a new job at a salon on the west side that she likes. It’s called Roots or something or other, and Robbie is still working at Black and Blue. He actually started dating a girl recently, but I’ve yet to meet her. God, it seems like everybody else is having luck with love, beside us. Myles told me he’s engaged now, and then Robbie’s girlfriend, and Skye said the other day she has a date this week.”

“Ya, we’re ratha pathetic, aren’t we? We haven’t even had any drinks yet and we’re gushin’ ‘bout bloody love,” he cracks, clucking his tongue before feeding the rest of the crisp churro between his rose lips. My oh my, is that a scenic sight right there.

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” I remark, finishing my second taco and grabbing the remaining quesadilla, earning a disapproving head shake from him.

As the flavors of the tangy sour cream, fiery seasoned chicken, and gooey cheese melt on my tongue, our words hit a sensitive spot in my heart. I just hope we can avoid it for the rest of the night, or else I’m afraid I might blurt out some words I’ve been itching to say.

“Hurry up, ‘s bloody cold,” Harry titters, digging his hands further into the pockets of his matte black coat.

“How far are we even going?”

“Oh, hush, you. ‘s not very far, jus’ anotha block,” he answers, his lengthy legs far ahead of mine.

“Harry, that’s what you said like five minutes ago, and slow the fuck down!”

“Hey, watch tha language, there’s no need t’ swear,” he remarks, meeting my eyes over his shoulder with his brows quirked into a V. When we arrive at a busy intersection, our feet stop on the sidewalk, and a muttered curse falls from his lips.

“Oh, so you can swear, but I can’t?” I quip, poking his arm playfully.

“Yes, li’l one, I can. ‘m not bein’ a very good role model fer ya, am I now?” he replies, a hand leaving his pocket to pat the top of my head covered in a knit hat. I respond with a roll of my eyes as his sly grin graces my eyes. “Are ya shrinkin’ on me, Becks?”

“Don’t.”

He only giggles, turning back to the onslaught of moving lights around us. I’ve always enjoyed the sights of London like this, the neon and fluorescent signs hugging every street, and the towering buildings. Harry mumbles a ‘c’mon’, tugging on my sleeve until I follow him across the crosswalk. Soon, we come upon a pub with a green neon sign donning the front, reading ‘Murphy’s’ that Harry pulls me into. His long legs lead me through the entryway, across red-tiled flooring, and to the long wooden bar where boisterous laughs sound.

“Can I have two Purple Haze martinis, please?” Harry says to the bartender, a tall fellow with an interesting red mustache that curls at its ends. He nods and turns around to grab two martini glasses.

“What are Purple Hazes, like is it something Prince liked to drink?” I ask Harry, falling onto the black bar stool beside him.

“I dunno, but you’ll like it. Jus’ trust me,” he smiles as he slides off his coat, and I admire the new view of his side profile. Something I haven’t seen in a long time. Seven months both does and doesn’t feel like forever, especially compared to that day I found him standing at the front of that lecture hall. Yesterday, when I turned around to find him standing in Myles’ office, it felt like it had been years. I blame it on all of the hurt. “‘Scuse me, can we also get two Skittles shots? Thanks.”

“So, now you’re my drinking mentor too, huh?”

“Pretty much, ya,” he smirks, balling his hand into a fist that he lays his cheek on to look at me. The smile winding its way along his lips under the dim lights drills a hole into the armor around my heart that’s cracking more and more. “And yer not doin’ that sissy thing ya do where ya have a glass o’ water on tha side.”

“Harry, I don’t want to be hungover tomorrow!”

“Becks, you’ll be fine! T’morrow’s a Saturday, anyways. What will it hurt?” he answers, shrugging his shoulders as the crinkles begin around his eyes. They almost disappear from my view when he looks to the bartender who sets the shots down in front of us, Harry mentioning adding it to his bill after thanking him. “Bottoms up, bug.”

“Oh, God,” I sigh, taking the greenish-yellow shotglass of liquid from his outstretched hand. “Stop looking at me that way.”

“What way?” he inquires with a furrowed brow, holding the shot close to his grinning lips.

“Like you know we’re about to get drunk.”

“Cheers,” is all he says, clinking his glass against mine before downing the liquid effortlessly. Shaking my head, I exhale loudly as the liquid nears my lips, and then it burns with hints of sweet and sour on the way down. “See, not so bad, was it?”

“Shut up,” I retort in the middle of a cough racking my chest, setting down the glass with a clunk.

“I have a question,” he announces after his giggling dissolves into the air. “Ya neva told me how you and Skye met, so how’d it happen?”

“You’re thinking about that right now?” I quip, carding a hand through my hair after I slip off my mauve-colored beanie. He shyly nods as he fidgets with a ring on his left hand, meeting my gaze only shortly. “We met in first grade. She was scary at first, because one day early on she got mad at me for stealing her friend, or something- I can’t remember. Then the next day, she came up to me and we were both wearing pink Hello Kitty shoes, and decided to be best friends. Like they say, the rest was history, and we were joined at the hip from then on. We were in the same class a lot throughout the following years, took the same electives in high school, and moved to London together to go to uni.”

“Sounds ratha picturesque, dontcha think? Or I s’pose that’s how it goes with five-year olds,” Harry murmurs, nodding to the bartender when he brings us the purple martinis. An awe leaves my lips when I see the ombre of purple hues filling the glass. “‘s vodka, Curacao, Black Raspberry Liqueur, and cranberry juice. I think you’ll like it. Go ‘head, try it, Becks.”

I obey and bring the chilly glass to my mouth, relaxing at the sweet taste of berries, filling me with the color purple. Then I wince at the harsh bite of the alcohol, eliciting a titter from Harry whose foot I kick with mine. Beside me, he gulps down a quarter of the drink, unfazed.

“How about you and Myles?”

“Good question, I dunno if ‘ve eva told ya that story,” he hums, tickling his stubbly chin with his fingers while thinking. Even the way the skin between his eyebrows disappears when he’s thinking is cute. God, everything about him is and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it to myself once all of this alcohol passes my lips. As another drink of the martini burns my throat, I think I may be warming up to that idea, but there’s the possibility it could all be for nothing if the alcohol steals our memories away.

“We met in high school inn’a class I can’t rememba tha name of, but we both hadd’a crush on tha same girl, and we both played guitar. So it was natural,” he mumbles, licking his lips and making me feel woozy all over at the sight.

“Sure, that’s a real natural friendship,” I giggle. “You know I’m a lightweight, by the way.”

“Oh I know, ‘m bettin’ onnit,” he returns with a wink, bringing the large glass to his bubblegum lips.

“You know what’s good?” I follow, watching his thick eyebrows hike up his forehead. “That Kinky stuff,” I respond, taking another sip. I almost choke on it when I glance at the shocked look screwing up his face.

“Becks.”

“No, God- t-the vodka, Harry . . . not that other stuff,” I chuckle, my entirety collapsing into nervous laughter. His own echoes mine as a prickly warmth spreads like fire across my body.

“My bloody God, Rebecca Holte, are ya already feelin’ that drink?” he hums, his bony knee knocking against mine underneath the table. The fiery nervousness abates briefly at the mention of my formal name, one I can’t recall the last time I’ve heard him say in its entirety. It comes as a shock to me, considering at times I’m convinced he’s forgotten it.

“No, I-I just thought a liquor connoisseur such as yourself would know what I’m talking about.”

“Sure, I totally don’t believe you on that one, love,” he replies, scoffing when I softly hit his shoulder. “Yer prolly into handcuffs and gags, arentcha?”

“Harry Styles!” I exclaim, squirming when his hand covers my mouth. It falls within seconds, but the spicy vanilla smell coating his body remains with me, along with the warmth of his touch. Most of all, the familiarity and safety wrapped all in it causes a pang in my chest. “I do not do handcuffs, or bloody gags, and nor would I ever tell you, if I did.”

Words fleet his lips as he drowns them with another swallow of his violet martini. I turn away with my hair tickling my cheek as it shakes from side to side. It flies in front of my eyes when his fingers plunge into my sides, yanking laughs from my mouth as he lifts his eyebrows at me with a look that tells me to be quiet.

“I missed you,” I blurt out at random, feeling his fingers still on my side and his expression relaxes. The happiness falls from his eyes and cheeks, and with it I turn away, unable to deal with the disappointment I’m sure I’m on the verge of.

“I missed you too, y’know . . . loads,” Harry concurs, his fingers dangling at my side until they wander to my hands clasped in my lap. He steals one of them away and holds it against his leg, rubbing circles into my knuckles.

If this doesn’t make me spill the beans, then I’m positive the following liquor just may, and it all might come crashing down in front of me.

The next shot, a Lemon Drop, didn’t go down as smoothly. I felt like I was going to hack up a lung when I feel Harry’s warm hand on my back.

“Alright?” he murmurs in a rush, patting my back firmly until the cough subsides. “Sorry, that lemon one ‘s kinda hard sumtimes, ‘s ratha sour.”

“Ya think?” I respond, trying to make it go away with the last gulp of the Purple Haze, but it’s only a few seconds of relief.

I exhale and only feel his hand leave me when he orders a water, and two Tequila Sunrises, his a stronger one.

“Breathe, love, a water’s on ‘s way,” Harry hums, squeezing my arm. I nod and swallow hard, embarrassment coating me like a musty sheet.

“I thought you said no water.”

“Hush, I gotta take care o’ me li’l one,” he assures me, bringing a finger to his lips when I dare a look at him. A smile returns to my lips and remains there when the cold water graces them, him sipping at the Tequila Sunrise sat between his ringed fingers.

Oh, what I’d give to be able to wake up to a sunrise with him by my side. Oh, Harry.

“Hey, wha’s that ya got there?” he inquires, soon his painted nail lifting the bracelets from my right wrist. “Becks has a tattoo?! Since when?” he exclaims, astonishment and shock mixing into a cocktail amongst his features. His eyes bug out of his skull and then narrow when they return to my wrist.

“It’s a Queen Anne’s Lace, Robbie has one too, just on his upper arm and bigger. We got them when we were eighteen, um . . . . after our Gran passed. Grandma Holte . . Ann Holte,” I explain, helping him by removing the bracelets from around my wrist.

I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or just him, but my wrist finds a new home in his palm that he turns to better look at. The shock is replaced by a slow smile transforming his face, bleeding into his eyes that find their way back to mine.

“‘s gorgeous, Becks, truly. ‘ve always found tattoos o’ flowers t’ be so beautiful, yer makin’ me want t’ get anotha one even mo’ now. I mean, I have tha rose and anotha sumwhere I think, but now I want anotha thanks t’ you,” he hums, tracing the ink with the tip of his thumb, just a whisper of his touch. “‘m sorry ‘bout yer Gran, sounded like it was premature which ‘s always tha worst. Knew ya were strong, but fook, ya amaze me e’ry day, Becks.” Unannounced tears press warmly at the back of my eyes as he admires the sprawling flower, tracing each little petal until he’s tracked them all.

“You didn’t think I was that badass, huh?”

“No, ‘ve always thought ya were a badass, babe. A flower tattoo jus’ takes the cake,” he quips, looking me in the eyes and sending another crack down the case in my chest.

I don’t know how many more little shocks like this I can take, or my heart, before it breaks free from the cage I locked it up in so long ago. I hid it there to protect it from him breaking it, again.

“This ‘s me,” he announces, bringing us to stop in the parking lot. My confusion only grows as I look around, until my eyes stop on the black Harley Davidson in front of us.

“What? It’s the middle of winter, Harry.”

“I know, I know. That’s what e’rybody says, but I dress warm. I like t’ take her out e’ry once in a while t’ keep her runnin’ good. Maybe ‘ll hafta take ya onn’a ride when ‘s not too cold fer pussy Becks,” he coos, voice rising to a mocking tone.

“I’m sorry I don’t like the cold wind ripping my skin off,” I titter and his eyes roll into the back of his head with a groan. I stand there awkwardly, eyes following him as he grabs the helmet from the locked bag towards the back seat.

“Ya sure yer good t’ drive, bug? I can give ya a ride if yer not too much o’ a puss puss,” Harry remarks, turning to face me as he holds the buckle strap to the side, a smirk claiming his face.

“Yeah I’m good, thanks. Those four waters and twenty trips to the bathroom helped,” I answer, although regretfully as everything inside of me screams at me to accept.

Girl, how dumb are you?

Quiet, demon, I can’t take it back now.

“Good, ‘m glad t’ hear that, love. I uh, reckon ‘ll see ya inn’a week then?” he replies, sliding the helmet over his dark curls, fingering the chin strap.

“Yeah, the eighteenth.”

“Don’t miss me too much now,” he jests from behind the lack of visor that he had pushed up and out of the way. Even with the bulky metallic gold helmet, he’s so goddamn sexy it’s unbelievable.

“As long as you don’t miss me too bad either.”

“Eh, ‘ll try not t’ but it’ll be hard,” he echoes jokingly, squishing his lips to the side with a thought and suddenly they collapse into a pout. Then, he winks at me as he settles onto his bike. “See ya inn’a week, Becks.”

“Bye, Harry. Have a good weekend, and careful driving.”

“You too, bug, drive safe. ‘ll talk t’ ya soon, gotta get tha recipe fer that Kinky Blue drink from ya,” he tells me, the bike rumbling to life when he twists the key in the ignition.

“Bye,” I exhale, taking one last look at him before I turn around. I put one foot in front of the other and walk away from him, my least favorite thing to do of all things on this planet.

From behind my steering wheel a few cars down, I watch in awe as he slides on gloves before toeing away the kickstand and pulling out of the lot, looking more handsome than ever.

Just when I think he can’t surprise me, he does just that, and in the best way possible. Every time.

“Care to explain where you’ve been all night, missy?”

“It’s not even eleven, Mom,” I respond with a firmness trying in my voice, but I can’t muster it as I slide off my boots. No, there’s not really any reason in the world that I could be upset right now, or feign anything other than utter happiness.

“I know, I can read a clock, Ree. Hey, what’s that big smile for? I never got to hear how your interview went yesterday.”

“Oh yeah,” I realize aloud, the words falling automatically as I hang up my coat in the closet by our front door. Boy, is that a lot to unpack and rehash, and yet I look forward to relaying it all to her. That way, I get to relive all of it a little bit, and I don’t mind if I do. “Well, you were out all night partying too, so you can’t be mad at me.”

“You got me there, I’m guilty. Or can I say that yet, Ms. Lawyer?” Skye responds, a lightness showing in her words. After closing the door to the closet, I find the anxious eagerness waiting in her eyes, bringing elation to the front of my mind as I nod.

“I got the job yesterday,” I barely am able to say before she crossed the room, surrounding me in a hug. “Harry called me when I got home from work and told me the good news!”

“Oh my god, Ree, that’s so amazing! I’m so happy for you, holy shit!” she exclaims, amazing me at her strength when she squeezes me with her noodle arms. “Was he happy to see you?!”

“Yeah, I think so, and fuck he looked so good, Skye. He hugged me the first second he saw me.”

“Aww, that’s so bloody cute. So, when do you start?”

Pulling away, I look her in the eyes and revel in the happy celebration coating me in waves again.

“Monday the twenty-eighth, but I have orientation with him next Friday.”

“Oooo, lucky you!” she smiles, and I swear my happiness about the whole thing has only doubled since she stopped being angry at me for applying.

“And I may or may not have just went out for those belated dinner and drinks with him tonight,” I reveal slowly yet eagerly, watching more shock paint her face and her jaw drops.

“Ree, you basically went out on a date with him, that’s my girl!”

“Skye, it wasn’t a date!” I protest feebly, because once again any of the negative emotions have no chance at outshining the wonderful positive ones right this second. “It was just to celebrate my new job, and to make up for the dinner we never had this summer, and the drinks he wanted to get for my birthday which also didn’t happen.”

“Wait, what?!” she almost explodes, nearly all of the emotions under the sun covering her face, if only for a few seconds at a time. “I thought you didn’t talk to him on your birthday?”

“Well yeah, I didn’t besides that one text,” I answer, and then I slowly see the realization shine in her eyes.

“You opened his presents?!” she shouts, coming to grab my arms as I giggle with a nod.

“Yeah, after I got home and right before he called. Talk about a lot of happy tears yesterday.”

“No wonder you weren’t answering my calls, and I don’t blame you, you were a busy girl. Busy with Harry,” Skye notes aloud, the same sunny emotions showing in her words, but they die down as she nears her finish. “I told you he still cared about you.”

“I know, you were right all along, and it kills me that I ever believed he didn’t. He got me a mini purple piano keyboard, a journal to write songs in, the first season of FRIENDS, and wrote me the sweetest birthday card. Then, he called right after to tell me I got the job, and fuck, it all seems like a dream sometimes. But then I called him at work today to set up the orientation, and he had the idea to get together tonight, and it’s all like a dream come true,” I tell her softly, and slowly it all doesn’t seem so fake anymore, but instead it feels just like the dream I’ve always wanted my life to become.

“Girl, you are so lucky,” Skye comments, dragging me by the hand over to the sofa where we fall with a thud, heads resting on the back cushion. “Did you kiss him tonight? Because God, Ree, you are both so in love with each other, I dunno how you haven’t kissed him already.”

“I don’t know,” I muse aloud, staring at the ceiling, but really all I can see is him smiling at me at the bar. His hand on my back when I was coughing, bringing my hand into his when we said we missed the other, and all of those feelings sitting in his eyes that I’m sure he could’ve seen in mine as well. “I think I’ll wait until I get settled at the job, because starting a new job is always the worst part and overwhelming enough as it is.”

“If you say so, Boops, but I figure that’s not too bad of an idea.”

“Yeah, guess why?” I counter, turning my head to face her, finding strands of purple hair sticking out of her messy bun. She looks back at me, confusion etched into the lines in her forehead. “He’s my mentor for the next few years and I’m his mentee, so I get to work with him every day and all day.”

“Ree, you should’ve led with that! Holy shit, why didn’t you?” she exclaims, swatting my arm in disbelief as I dissolve into a happy laugh. “That’s amazing! You get to work with him and under him, it sounds like a pretty good deal,” she chuckles, her laughing lips falling into a please smile.

“I know, I really can’t believe the last two days sometimes. I hit the jackpot, the Harry jackpot,” I giggle happily, relaxing against the sofa, trying to remember his spicy vanilla scent. If I try hard enough, I can smell it when his hand covered my mouth in a joke, and the warmth of his touch the few times our hands met. It wasn’t nearly enough times, though. “I have to work with Myles my entire second week though, because he’ll be in Scotland to try the case I’m helping him prep for my first week.”

“That’s shitty,” she grimaces, crossing her arms over her chest clad in a fuzzy blue bathrobe. “Just ask him out when he gets back then, it’d be too annoying starting to date while he’s away. If you didn’t, I’m pretty sure you’d die from missing him, Ree.”

“Fuck, I already might, I’m dreading it,” I sigh sadly, not even wanting to think about how pathetic I already feel not looking forward to that week.

“I know you are, but don’t. You have so much more to look forward to just in the next few weeks, and maybe you can sneak your second and third date in there, and a kiss perhaps.”

“Oh my God, Skye, shut up,” I retort, but it’s soon consumed by my laughter as she pulls me into her arms and her chin rests on my head.

“I’m so blooming happy for you, Ree. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

“So have I, Skye, so fucking long,” I recall aloud, trying not to let the melancholy find me as I lose myself thinking about how ungodly perfect he looked tonight. And how I get to see that handsome face five days a week for the near future; talk about lucky. Talk about a dreamboat finally lifting its sail.

The next few days seemed as if they took twice as long, and the mild headache I woke up to on Saturday morning didn’t help. Although relaxing, the day dragged on and soon it was Sunday, with another long week ahead of me. At least I had my orientation with Harry to look forward to that coming Friday, but I still wouldn’t start at his firm for another week after that. The anticipation was killing me, and so were the little moments Harry and I shared when I happened to remember them. Sometimes I wish the alcohol had stolen those memories away because they hurt too much to remember, but then at other times I’d never wish them away, because they give me something irreplaceable - hope.

One of the many things they don’t tell you about becoming an adult is how music makes everything all the more tolerable, and exciting. Air Hostess by Busted fills one of my ears as I pass the aisle for boxed pasta, pasta sauces, and the like. On an endcap, I grab a box of fettuccine that I toss into my cart. Lifting my eyes, my legs move again and come across a figure that walks right out in front of me. Our metal carts bang against the other’s as a warmth tickles my insides, and my lips.

“God, Styles, you’re an awful driver,” I remark with a tsk, removing the earbuds to stuff into my pocket.

“Oh, hey, Becks. ‘m sorry I didn’t see ya there,” he comments, turning his tired green eyes to mine. He messes with the gray knit beanie covering most of his messy locks, and it suddenly makes me hyper aware of my godawful just-fell-out-of-bed appearance.

“No duh you didn’t,” I snicker, kneading the plastic sheath on the cart’s push bar. “Wow, nice Sunday Best, I’m impressed,” I tease, running my eyes over the baggy gray sweats covering his legs and the cream Abbey Road crewneck on his torso.

“You as well, Ms. Power Rangers,” he quips, nodding his head at my outfit that compares very much to his with black cheetah sweats, a hoodie, and beanie. “Which one was yer favourite since there was neva a purple one when we were li’l?”

“I know, I felt so ripped off by that,” I sigh, following him as he takes off and turns into the next aisle. “But I always loved the red power ranger, I don’t really know why.”

“Hmmm, interestin’ seein’ how he was always tha one in charge. D’ya have a thing fer bossy men or sumthin’, Becks?”

“Oh, shut up,” I laugh, tapping his bum with the front of my cart, earning evil eyes from him over his shoulder. “Who was your favorite Power Ranger, then?” I say, turning the tables to him. He comes to a stop in front of me, straying from his empty cart to grab a few cans of corn and peas.

“Green, I think. Can’t really rememba why,” he shrugs, placing the cans in the cart, soon returning to another section of shelves to pluck a large can of crushed tomatoes from it. “Which season was yer fav’?”

“Time Force, for sure.”

“Oh c’mon, Dino Force was far betta,” he scoffs disbelievingly, giving me another dirty look as he sets down the large can in his cart, crossing off something on the piece of blue paper he holds.

“Maybe you should be friends with my brother, seeing how you like all of the same stuff. The green Power Ranger was his favourite, and so was Dino Force,” I laugh, comparing two different brands of green beans, deciding on the cheaper one that I grab. My legs pass his cart and when I see him shrug his shoulders with a sly grin, I softly swat him on the arm, his name leaving me.

“Becks, ya betta watch it,” he giggles, catching my arm in his gentle grasp.

“Or what?”

“Don’t test me,” he warns, but the grin creasing his cheeks tells me otherwise, he’s harmless. I bump my shoulder against his after he lets go, but not without a tickle from him.

“Harry Styles,” I groan, grabbing a can of tuna from the shelf. His grin is wider when I turn around, rolling my eyes at him on my way back to my cart.

“Rebecca Holte,” he whines in a mocking voice, once again shocking me with his recollection of my name.

“Don’t, it sounds weird when you say my name like that.”

“It really does tho’,” he remarks agreeingly, words falling into a hearty laugh. I almost echo it until I spot the look on his face. Following his eyes to the shelves, I find his stuck to a display of Spaghettios. Some have meatballs in them, hotdogs, the pasta are in different shapes, and some cans are bigger than others. I’m not sure which one he’s looking at, but the absence of anything on his face whisks that question away. “Alright?” I ask softly, taking a few steps towards him, and he wakes back up when my hand touches his arm.

“Y-Ya,” he hums sadly, letting my fingers come around his forearm, almost as if I’m about to hook arms with him. God, I wish. “‘s been a while since ‘ve seen these, and even longa since I ate ‘em. I always used t’ eat ‘em at me granddad’s house with a piece o’ buttered bread,” he explains, nodding towards the arrangement.

“Oh, Harry,” I exhale, sadness bending my features as I squeeze his arm. He musters a forced laugh, carrying his eyes over to mine with apology held in them. “It’s almost been a year, hasn’t it?”

“Ya, this week. I can’t believe it,” he remarks softly, kneading his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger of his free right hand. “Almost think I should grab a can fer him, but I dunno if ‘d like ‘em now. I don’t wanna ruin that memory.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to buy it. You could buy or do something else to remember him, Harry.”

He nods beside me as I look up at him and watch the thoughts paint his face. It seems his face goes through every emotion within a minute - sadness, regret, confusion, frustration, grief, etc.

“Maybe get something you both like.”

“Ya, he loved those fudge-striped cookies, maybe I can find some o’ those instead,” he decides, tearing his eyes away from the lines of cans to meet mine. “Thanks . . Boops,” he smiles, that simple image calming the worrying of my heart.

I laugh and walk away from him, returning to my cart that I begin to push, but I find Harry’s in my way. With a playful groan, my lips part, “Come on, Harold, move it so we can go to the cookie aisle.”

“Hey, that’s not me name,” he responds, wrapping his bare fingers around the handle, giving me another glare over his shoulder.

“Well, neither is Rebecca, so don’t call me that.”

“But it ‘s actually yer name. Yer confusin’, y’know that?” he tuts, shaking his head as he looks straight ahead, moving down the aisle. “Hey, how’d ya eva come t’ be called ‘Boops’, anyways? I rememba Skye would call ya that sometimes when ‘d come ova.”

“God, I can’t believe you remember that nickname,” I groan, receiving a light chuckle from him ahead of me. On purpose, I bump the front of my cart against his bum again as he waits for somebody to pass.

“Becks- I mean, Rebecca, stop,” Harry says, turning halfway to meet my giggling eyes. One sits in his greens as well, but he only lets it show as a curling of one side of his mouth. “Ya I rememba, that’s all she called you. I think she did it on purpose.”

“Probably, knowing Skye she did it to bug me or embarrass me,” I comment, taking a right down the big aisle in between all of the smaller ones. Rows upon rows of cookies come before our eyes soon, along with baking supplies like flour, sugar, and chocolate chips. Dang, the amount of chocolate in this aisle is unreal, and somehow comforting. “My dad started it when I was a baby, or so I’ve been told. He’d tap my nose with his finger and it always made me laugh, I guess, so it stuck.”

“Aww, that’s adorable. Does he still boop yer nose when he calls ya that?”

“Sometimes,” I laugh, leaving my cart on the side as I pull out my phone, bringing up my shopping list. “So what are you all buying today?”

“That’s cute, y’know, and jus’ stockin’ up on some stuff. ‘m makin’ a pot pie t’night, so needed stuff fer that - carrots, an onion, celery, pie dough, broth, chicken, y’know,” he answers, bending down to squat so he can pull a pack of fudge stripes from the shelf. “Ah, here they are. I can’t rememba tha last time I had these eitha, but ‘m excited t’ try ‘em again, and think of Granddad when I have ‘em with a glass o’ milk.”

“Good idea,” I agree, patting him on the back as I tote a sack of flour in my other arm.

He finds me with his eyes over his shoulder, and those to-die-for dimples make an appearance again as his lips open with a smile, “Thanks, Boops,” he grins, tapping my nose with his finger. I want to tell him how original he’s being with that response, or the lack thereof, but the butterflies taking flight in my stomach consume all the bravery I had. “What’re you buyin’, hmm?”

“Same, just necessities.”

“Looks like yer bakin’ or sumthin’ with all that flour,” he comments, nodding to it as I set it down amongst the other items.

“Well, I’m going to make brownies, so yeah it’s a necessity, but that’s nothing new.”

“Ah, so Becks has become a baker, has she now?” he inquires, filling his arms with items up and down the aisle, because of course he is. I nod, joining him by a box of premade mixes, watching as he debates over which brownie mix to buy.

“I literally just said two seconds ago that I’m making homemade brownies, and you’re buying a box mix of them! Homemade is always better!” I exclaim, then groan with a disapproving shake of my head. “Harold.”

“Boops,” he returns, a smile winding its way up his cheeks covered in a light layer of dark facial hair. Now, that’s new, and what’s not to like? “I don’t mess with bakin’, so yes, ‘m buyin’ a box o’ premade. Unless ya’d like t’ make me some?” he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows at me with an idea forming inside of my head.

“Maybe if you stop calling me Boops and Rebecca, I will one time.”

“Noted,” he responds, winking at me as he replaces the box on the shelf.

“Good boy.”

He continues to smile at me, and quickly I remember what it’s like to stare into this sunlight, and how it’s not so bad sometimes. It’s quite wonderful, actually. The buzzing inside of my chest grows when his finger nears my face again, and then brushes under my eye.

“I like seein’ yer birthmark when ya don’t cover it up, ‘s pretty, Becks,” he hums, tracing his thumb over it, tickling my skin. A small ‘thanks’ drops from my lips at his words, and the buzzing only intensifies as he stares back at me. In that moment, I swear I could do it and I almost try to until he turns away. I attempt to find comfort in assuring myself that I don’t want our theoretical first kiss to be in the middle of the supermarket, lest anybody join us in this aisle. “I think that’s all I needed t’day.”

Thoughts are building into words on my tongue until the ringing of my phone interrupts my plans. This is definitely not all that I needed today, per say. Lifting it towards my face, I see my dad’s smiling face waiting for me, reminding me I haven’t spoken to him in days amidst everything going on. He’s already called a few times and I wasn’t able to answer, and he’s probably starting to grow concerned. I also really need to tell him about the new job. He’ll be so happy, and I can only imagine the suggestive things he’ll say about Harry. Oh boy.

“I should take this,” I announce, bringing my eyes back to his. He nods as he arrives back in front of his cart. “It was nice to see you and only one of you,” I snicker, alluding to the far too many drinks we consumed the other night.

“You too, Becks, it was nice runnin’ into ya. ‘ll try not t’ crash carts with ya tha next time,” he returns with a warm smile, coming towards me as he pushes his cart. The next time? Can you please not tease me like this, Harry? I want all of the grocery shopping trips with you, even if they’re only like this where I can’t have my arm hooked through yours. Maybe one time we’ll only need one cart, just maybe. He lifts an arm and squeezes mine on his way down the aisle. “Take care, bug, ‘ll see ya Friday.”

“Bye, Harry. Careful driving that thing!” I call out, and this time he doesn’t give me a dirty look when he looks back at me. Instead, he sends me that blinding smile of his I love so damn much. “And, I’ll be thinking of you this week, I know it’ll be a hard one.”

“Thanks, bug, I appreciate it,” he returns, winking at me before turning back around and rounding the corner, just as I press Accept on my phone.

“Hi, Dad,” I say, waiting to hear my dad’s comforting voice.

“Hey, Boops. How’s my favourite girl?” he asks, the warmth in his voice providing me with happiness, and stealing it away at the same time. God, I miss him sometimes, I realize inside my thoughts. As I still stare down the aisle, I miss another man too.

It seems I’m always missing these two every second of every day, and one of Harry’s hugs that I wish I’d stolen a few seconds ago.

As the numbers climb in front of my eyes, the last few days flash before them. Somehow, I’m amazed when the number seventeen appears before my eyes in a bright red font. The last week has dragged on at times, thoughts of Harry and standing in this very lift occupying my every thought. Checking my watch, I’m glad to see I’m early, just like I had planned.

The gunmetal doors part in front of me and I’m rewarded with the sight of Seventeen in all of its glory. The buzzing returns in my chest, and so do the multitudes of butterflies in my gut as I look around. It does and doesn’t look the same as before, but it smells the same, and in some ways it sounds the same. The Cubiclers are gone and now more offices line the walls, and a certain somebody sits inside of one this very instant. The very same person I get to spend the entire day with, and it’s the first of oh so many. I take a long look around, admiring the gleaming tiled floors and the dark wooden walls, a new cream chandelier or two dotting the ceiling. God, that remodel must not have been cheap, I think silently, and soon wonder if a certain somebody’s father in construction had anything to do with it.

I almost expect to see him round one of the corners of the large floor dedicated to the firm, but I don’t, and I’m unsure of how I feel about it. It’s all washed away when I find the door I’ve been looking for, and it’s open.

“Hey, stranger,” I announce, leaning against the door frame with a cheeky grin plastered across my face. “Look at you with the fancy new office all to yourself.”

Their tousled head of sandy hair lifts from their computer screen, and I watch his eyes change almost entirely. My name falls from his lips as he stands up and crosses the room to me, enveloping me in a hug.

“What are you doing here? Does Harry know you’re here?”

“Yeah, he knows,” I smile against Asher’s shoulder, pulling away after a moment of being surrounded by his crisp cologne. “I work with him uh soon - I got the associate job, and he’s my mentor.”

Again, the look on his face changes in a blink, and astonishment paints him in stripes. A nervous laugh falls from his lips as he grips my shoulders and clucks his tongue in disbelief.

“You’re always good with the surprises, aren’t you?” Asher replies and I nod, waiting for him to say more. “Becky, t-this is what you want?”

“Yeah, it’s what I want. He’s already been so kind to me, and we’ve been talking a lot. He picked me over everybody else, Ash!” I respond, watching the words register with him as he nods the slightest. “I’m not going to let him get away this time.”

“As long as you’re happy, and he’s good to you,” he insists, pointing a stern finger at me dotted with shiny blonde hairs.

“Yes, he’s already being good to me, Ash. We went out for dinner and drinks that we meant to do this summer, and things are already looking up.”

“Good, good. That’s already progress, Becky,” he hums, and I mumble a brief agreement. “But still, what are you doing here now?”

“Oh, I have my orientation with him today, but I don’t start officially until the twenty-eighth, after I finish my job at the courts,” I reply, and he nods a little harder this time, biting on his thumb.

“I see, it’s all making some sense now, thank God. So, when are you going to ask him on a date?”

“Ash!” I exclaim, following him further into his plain looking office where he sits on the corner of his desk. He crosses his arms over the ochre button down showing a white t-shirt underneath. “It’s not even my first day of work yet!”

“So? You’re wasting precious time!” he argues, his loud chuckle soon stealing away his words. I groan as my eyes roll into the back of my head, soon pushing up the sleeve of my dark violet blazer to find my brown leather watch.

“Yeah, sitting here arguing with you,” I giggle, returning my eyes to his summer blues.

“No, you’re right, because you could be talking to him right now. You know, flirting with him and asking him on a date.”

“Ash, stop!” I laugh, turning to walk away, but I stop when I reach his door. “I like the new office by the way, I’m happy they finally made you head of I.T. I’m really happy for you,” I say softly pointing to the words on his door, hanging onto the handle as he meets my eyes softly.

“Thanks, Becky, I appreciate it. It was about time Bitchie Trishie retired anyways, fuck was she old.”

“Ditto,” I smile and he returns it right away. “I’m really happy to be back.”

“I’m happy you are too, and I’m sure Harry is as well. You should get going, you don’t want to make a bad uh, second impression,” he notes, shooing me away with his hand.

We say our goodbyes and I return to the hallway, straightening my unbuttoned blazer over my long slacks the same color for probably the twentieth time this morning. What feels like for the fiftieth time, I smooth down the chiffon black blouse tucked in underneath, hoping I ironed out every single wrinkle. Skye’s words from his morning when we said goodbye come back to me with a warm smile.

“Ree, if he doesn’t realize what he’s been missing the second he sees you in that outfit, I’m going to be very disappointed in him,” she mused, shaking her head with pursed lips and arms crossed over her chest as I laughed nervously.

My black pumps echo with every step I take on the immaculate floors, soon finding Amelia at the front desk who I wave at, not bothering to check in again. Asher’s comment and its ambiguity comes to mind as I take a right through the lobby. What did he mean that he’s sure Harry is happy I’m back, too? Since when do Asher and Harry talk, or when have they ever spoken to each other with more than three words? Does he know something that I don’t know?

I don’t get another second to think about it, because soon I turn down the hallway. His hallway. The nerves of anticipation and excitement come over me as a smile grows hastily on my lips. I’ve been waiting for this moment for longer than I think I know, probably months, or even years. It’s hard to believe that the last time I was in his office, it was two years ago. The thought appears with a sting when I remember the last time I was in his office, because of him walking in on Amber well, assaulting me. A moment that I ended when I walked away from him, and here I am walking back to him, and I couldn’t be happier.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

I see his door first, and how it’s ajar, letting a section of his office peek through. Then, I hear the Paul McCartney song escaping from his office, followed by his humming. The humming doesn’t match the song oddly enough, but it transports me back to the hospital in Madley when I was wrapped in his arms. It’s the same song he was humming then that I still can’t figure out. God, those kinds of things bug me.

I see him first, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that, because I get a few extra seconds to admire him. It allows me to remember the way he absently twirls a piece of hair around his finger when he’s lost in a thought, how he always crosses his legs at the ankles under his desk bobbing a foot to the music, and just how incredible he always manages to look in a suit. A pastel teal number hugs his trim body with a cream button up underneath, giving me a peek at his thick chest hair underneath. Oh, I could just eat him up. If only.

Swallowing, I take the time for a silent deep breath before rapping my knuckle against the cold glass of his door with nervous lips, “Good morning, boss.”

His head flies up and I think I’ve scared him almost, but the happiness that consumes his face is instantaneous and contagious as ever. It spreads across his flushed skin until my favorite little things about his smile appear before my eyes, making this all the more real. The perfect little curls falling over his forehead make it all the worse, and the better.

“Mornin’. Are ya ready t’ get started, Ms. Holte?”

“Yes, I’ve never been more ready,” I reply, the anxiousness abating as he stands from his chair.

“Great, then let’s get started with yer official orientation as a lawyer fer Styles and Lawson,” he announces, firmness playing in his words until they end with sunshine dancing across them, his footsteps finding their way to me. “Y’know, ‘ve been waitin’ a long time fer this day, Becks, too long.”

Me too, Harry. I’ve been waiting for what feels like forever for this new beginning.

28 notes · View notes

snortyport · 5 years ago

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(Un)Broken Happily Ever After Chapter 3

Summary- Four years ago, you thought you were just going to another party. Little did you know you’d meet the man who would change your life.

Word Count- 3436

Pairing- Taehyung x reader

Warning- some swearing, nothing major

A/N- Thanks for reading! This is a flashback chapter if you didn’t figure that out. Each flashback chapter will be in Italics for future reference.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

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Four years ago…

“Come one, don’t be such a drag!” Jungkook says pulling on your arm as he pulls you towards the house party you definitely don’t want to go to. You, and your two friends for the record, have midterms to study for and a party isn’t going to help you remember anything on the study list.

“Yeah, come on Y/N! You haven’t been out in forever!” Hoseok yells from behind you, already in the party spirit after pregaming at your apartment for the past hour. “Plus, this is our last year of university and then we start the real world. We deserve to have a little fun after working our asses off for the past four years! So, I want you to turn that frown upside down and let’s go!” Hoseok pinches your butt which makes you jump and yelp in surprise, making the boys laugh at your outburst.

“It’s time to have fun before we graduate and you go off to some country doing God’s work or whatever,” Jungkook says, slinging and arm around your shoulders.

You’ve known Jungkook since childhood, you two were literally diaper buddies. Your moms were best friends and got pregnant a couple weeks apart from each other. You and Jungkook have often wondered if it was just coincidence that they got pregnant around the same time or if it was planned. Either way, the two of you grew up more like siblings instead of friends.

You spent every weekend growing up at either his house or him at yours. You know every secret of his and vice versa. Every crush brought teasing and every heartbreak brought hugs and a movie night. When your high school boyfriend dumped you right before graduation, Jungkook dropped his grad date to take you instead. Jungkook was always the shy one in your duo and you knew how much courage it had taken him to ask the girl out, so you had refused at first. But he had always pictured the two of you going together so you agreed. The other girl wasn’t graduating that year, so you didn’t feel too bad stealing him away.

People always wondered if there was more going on between you two. Did she like him? Did he like her? But there was never anything like that with him. You knew too much about each other for there to be any romance. Yeah, as the two of you got older, Jungkook sprouted from being a wide eyed adorable little boy to a chiseled, sporty muscle man from long hours spent at the gym. And you grew into your curves, your face cleared up and smoothed out. People are always wondering if there’s something going on.

“It’s not God’s work, you doofus, I just want to go and help children who lost their parents due to war or sickness. That way when I come back home, I’ll be able to use the knowledge I got from there to spread awareness and help from here,”

“Please, Mother Teresa, don’t bring down the mood when we’re about to go walk into the most hyped party of the year,” Hobi says, nudging your side with his elbow. “I don’t want to think about sad parentless children right now. I’m too far gone right now and I might start crying.”

You met Hobi on your very first day of orientation in your first year. You and Jungkook had decided to go to the same university, so you were sitting together at a table when Hoseok came over and asked if he could sit in the extra chair at your table. It didn’t take long for Hobi to secure a spot in your friend group, making your lifelong duo into a trio.

Hobi is more extroverted like yourself so you always had someone to go to parties with when JK would need to recharge his social battery. Hobi was the missing piece you didn’t know was missing. Mostly the three of you did everything together; parties, classes, even going to each others’ hometowns for holidays. The three of you were best friends through and through.

And then in your second year, you met Seokjin and your trio became a foursome. He was graduating that year and decided one night at a party to share his university wisdom and hacks on you and your friends. For some reason he took a liking to the three of you and sought you out a few days after the party and you became actual friends.

You didn’t think you needed someone new in your group, but you couldn’t help warming to this older man who acted the same age as you. it was hard not accept him and his weirdly iconic laugh that was well known around the university grounds and his bad dad jokes. You thought he would bring a sense of maturity to your friend group but when the three of you were all together, you acted more like school children instead of adults.

When he graduated, you were scared things were going to change, that he wouldn’t have as much time to hang out with you anymore but Jin made it a mission to hang out with you at least once a week. And for the past two years, he’s kept that promise. Even when all of you were super busy with school or work. You always made sure to make time for your windshield wiper laughing friend.

“Sorry, sorry,” you say before clearing your throat, “Woo! It’s party time! I’m gonna get so wasted, and dance, and probably hook up with someone if the night goes how I want it,” you proclaim in a high pitched voice, mimicking what Hobi said back at your place.

“Har har,” he glares at you, but a smile graces his features a second later. “Seriously though, I’m going balls to the wall tonight so if I don’t remember who you are at the end of the night then you can be happy for me.”

“You can go balls to the wall but I’m hoping to go balls to pussy tonight,” Jungkook laughs and hold his fist to Hobi to bump.

You and Hoseok groan and you roll you eyes.

“Keep that hetero talk to yourself please. I’m not drunk enough to listen to that,” Hobi shivers in disgust.

“Seriously do you have to be so gro—” you start to say before someone bumps into you hard which makes you lose your footing and trip into Jungkook’s side.

“I’m so sorry!” the tall boy who knocked into you exclaims, grabbing your arms to steady you and you grab onto his. “My friend nudged me, and I wasn’t expecting it and I kinda fell, and I fell into you, and I’m so sorry!”

“Uh, yeah, it’s ok,” you say straightening up, “I didn’t get hurt so no harm done,” you smile. When his dark eyes reach yours after checking you out to make sure you really aren’t hurt, his jaw goes slack. “Ar-are you ok?” you ask, concern flooding your features. He stands, staring at you while still holding onto your arms until one of his friends pushes at his shoulder from behind.

“Oh, uh, I’m fine!” he says, shaking his head and throwing you a boxy smile. Your pulse quickens at this seriously attractive, flustered man, who’s still holding onto you with his big warm hands. His dark, slightly wavey hair falls into his eyes and you’re glad that he’s holding your arms because you think you would have run your fingers through it to get it off his forehead. His cologne tickles your nose and has you wanting to do some crazy things right here in the middle of the party thrower’s lawn.

“Well now that we know everyone is all good, we’re going to get going,” Jungkook says from behind you, grabbing your bicep and pulling you from the guy’s grasp.

The guy flicks his eye to Jungkook and instantly drops his hands from you and takes a step back, bursting the bubble the two of you were in. He sends you a small smile before dropping it to stare at his feet. You let Jungkook pull you away, the stranger’s cologne still lingering in your nose, making your head feel thick and dizzy with desire.

“— could have let her get his name before pulling her away,” you catch the last bit of what Hobi says, the delicious smell finally leaving your system.

“He was eye fucking her so much that I knew he didn’t care about her name,” Jungkook huffs, and you’re now realizing his arm is back around your shoulders.

“Excuse me?” you ask incredulously, craning your neck to stare up at him.

“Don’t worry, I saved you. I could tell that all he wanted was in your pants,” he smiles triumphantly at you.

“Maybe I wanted him in my pants. Did you see him?” you glare at him.

“That boy was blessed by every god. He was just,” hobi brings his hand up to do a chef’s kiss, “perfect.”

“Exactly,” you sigh dreamily. “And who are you to dictate who I can or can’t date or fuck? My body, my choice,” you stop right before the door to shove Jungkook’s arm off your shoulders and to turn and glare at him. “If I want to get my brains fucked out of me with someone who you don’t deem good enough,” you say, air quoting good enough, “then I will. It’s not up to you, ok?”

“Preach,” Hobi says, clicking his tongue at Jungkook.

“Ok, I’m sorry. I know it’s your choice and everything, but I just didn’t get a good feeling about him ok?” he gives you his puppy dog eyes pout which always makes you forgive him.

“Because you won’t be the hottest of our group if she dates him?” Hobi offers, smiling mockingly at Jungkook.

“I just didn’t ok? Can we drop it now and go in?” he asks, looking towards the door.

“Yess!” Hobi screams. “Let’s go second best!” he grabs Jungkook’s arm and opens the door, pulling the big lug through the door. You giggle at them as you watch them get swallowed up by the huge crowd of people littering every available space in the house. You turn to look back at the stranger only to find him already staring at you. Your body erupts in tingles and goosebumps and your heart starts pounding. You smile shyly before walking into the booming house.

~~~~~~

A couple hours, and many drinks later, you’re happily dancing with Hoseok in the middle of the makeshift dancefloor. Your sweaty bodies mingling and sharing space with the other dancers. Jungkook disappeared almost immediately after entering the party but Hoseok, your party buddy, hasn’t left your side, except the few times to get more drinks.

Which now that you’re thinking about it, you could use a refill.

You shimmy closer to your friend, bringing your lips close to his ear. “I need another drink! Do you want anything?” you shout to be heard over the music pumping through your veins. He shakes his head and continues dancing by himself before some cute, petite guy twirls into his arms and starts grinding into him.

You push your way through the throng of bodies, wanting to get away from that scene quickly. You’re glad he has someone to dance with but you really don’t want to see your best friend getting some. The floor is so packed you get hips and elbows connecting to your body with every step. You’re having troubles navigating around everyone when suddenly a hand reaches out and grabs your wrist. The mystery person manages to pull you past everyone and out of the raving crowd.

You don’t know who grabbed you, you don’t recognize the back that’s in front of you, but you’re thankful they got you out of there so quicky. The heat was starting to make you dizzy and your stomach twist. Mystery man pulls you to a quieter part of the room, against the wall farthest from the dance floor. He turns around and to your excitement it’s the same guy who bumped into you outside.

His dark eyes are now glassy and bloodshot from a night of drinking and you’re sure your eyes look the exact same. His mouth moves in such a nice way that you can’t tear your eyes away from it. The things you want that mouth to do to you has the blood running through your veins turning to fire. His cologne which is now mixed with alcohol and the faintest traces of cigarette smoke. Not what you’d usually go for but for some reason you find it so sexy and intoxicating. Your already drunk mind feels ten times more fuzzy standing this close to him. You’ve never wanted someone so badly before. His perfect mouth is still moving when you realize he’s trying to talk to you.

“Sorry, what?” you yell, tearing your gaze away from his mouth and to his eyes. He smirks and leans closer. You take a deep breath in, drinking in as much of him as you can.

“Do you want to get out of here? Find somewhere quiet where we can… talk?” he asks, his eyes moving to your lips. He ignites something so ferocious in you that you don’t even recognize who you are right now as you nod your head.

This isn’t like you. You don’t drunkenly hook up with random people, that’s Jungkook’s thing. He’s so shy but once that alcohol hits, he becomes a sex maniac and anyone with a vagina between their legs will do. But that’s never been you. You’re always careful and you at least like to know the person you are sleeping with. You’ve always preferred knowing the name you’ll be moaning out.

But maybe you’ve been missing out on the anonymity. You’ve never seen this guy before on campus so there won’t be any of those awkward smiles and forced small talk when you run into each other. You’re kind of looking forward to it as he pulls you by the hand again towards the stairs.

But when he turns to the door instead of the stairs, alarm bells start ringing in your head. Maybe Jungkook was right and there is something wrong with him? He pulls you outside but before you get too far, you plant your feet on the ground, trying not to sway too much. What if he goes around to university campuses and lures girls in with his incredible smile and hopes of hooking up and then murders them? He stops and turns to look at you in confusion.

“Where are we going?” you ask cautiously, reaching your hand down to your jeans pocket to feel for your phone.

“To the diner just down the road. I asked if you wanted to go and you said yes. Did you change your mind? We can go back in if you want? I just don’t really like parties and thought talking over a burger and fries sounded like a better way to get to know you. But if you don’t want to go with me, that’s ok,” he drops your hand and takes a step away from you. “You don’t even know my name, of course you don’t want to go with me. I’m so sorry, I’ve probably scared you,” he runs his hand over his face and through his hair while grimacing. “Let’s just go back inside. I’m such an idiot,” he whispers and starts to walk past you, but you grab his hand to stop him. He’s either a really good actor or he’s being sincere. It might be the alcohol, but you feel like you can trust him.

“Let me just text my friends where we’re going and then we can go, ok? I didn’t hear you properly inside so when we went outside, I didn’t understand what was happening,” you say, giving him a reassuring smile. He lets out a relieved sigh as you pull you phone out. But then his smile drops, and he looks back at the house.

“I, uh, don’t know how to say this, or if I should be the one saying this. I mean, I don’t know your relationship, but if it was me, I’d want to know, so I should just tell you, right?” he says quickly, almost to himself.

“What are you talking about?” you ask. Your relationship? What is he talking about?

“I, um, saw your boyfriend making out with another girl,” he winces as he looks into your eyes and squeezes his hands together.

“My boyfriend? I’m not dating anyone?” you shake your head in confusion. And maybe if you weren’t so drunk you would have realized instantly that he was talking about your best friend.

“But… earlier… he…?” he stumbles over his words. “When I almost knocked you over? That big guy? Isn’t he your boyfriend?” he scratches his nose, and you notice for the first time that he has a small mole on the end of his nose and now how you definitely want to kiss it.

“The big guy?”

It takes you a painfully long time to understand who he is talking about but when you finally do, you burst out laughing at the absurdity of it. You and Jungkook? Never in a million years. The bewildered look on the guys face is too much for you and it makes you laugh harder. Tears prick at your eyes and you don’t even know why you find it so funny, but you do, and you can’t stop the giggles.

“Me and Jungkook? No!” your head falls backward and the tears streak down your face. “I’m sorry for laughing so much! But he’s like my brother! I’d never date him!” you wipe at your eyes with one hand and hold your stomach with the other.

“Oh… yeah?” he says, his face brightening.

“Yeah. We’ve known each other since we were babies. We’re basically siblings so the thought of us dating is just hilarious but also so gross,” you say before taking a deep breath. “Oh, you’re so cute. That was the best. Thank you for that!” you giggle again while unlocking your phone. You miss the blush the covers his cheeks as he smiles shyly and looks away. You quickly send a message to your group chat letting them know you left and where you’re going.

“I’m Taehyung by the way, but my friends call me Tae,” he says sheepishly. You add his name to the text before sending it.

“I’m Y/N,” you hold your hand out for him to shake. “It’s very nice to meet you, Tae.” His big hand engulfs yours and he shakes your hand. You really want those hands on you but right now this will do. “So, this diner, they have desserts?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he nods his head, smiling.

“Then let’s go!” you take his hand and pull him down the walkway.

It’s a little chilly out with the sun down which you didn’t think about when you agreed to walk, but Tae senses you’re cold and pulls you closer. He puts his hands, with your one hand still clasped tightly together, in his jacket pockets. The warmth you get from him and the lingering heat from the alcohol in enough to keep you toasty.

The two of you talk the whole way to the diner, never once falling into an awkward silence. Because both of you are inebriated, the conversation isn’t too serious. You mostly talk about your dreams and crazy things on your bucket lists. Laughs and giggles fill the night air as you stroll along the sidewalk, a few cars passing you by and illuminating your close figures. Everyone driving by probably thinking you’re dating, and you honestly don’t mind the mix up.

As a pretty outgoing person, you’re used to talking to people easily, but something feels different with Tae. There hasn’t been any awkwardness between you despite the fact that you’ve just met ten minutes ago and you’re huddled together so close that once your icy breath reaches his, they mingle together before disappearing into the night. You normally make friends easily with your cheerful disposition, so you’re not sure why this feels different, but it does and you’re not complaining. It feels like you’ve known Tae for years.

It’s just a hunch you have, and maybe it’s so strong because you’re so drunk, but you feel good things coming your way with Tae. And you really can’t wait.

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I hope you enjoyed that chapter and how they met. I can’t wait to show you the rest of the flashbacks I have planned!

Tagged: @anatron9000, @sugalarity

If you’d like to be tagged, let me know!

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts taehyung #bts namjoon #break up imagine #taehyung #namjoon

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writinginthesparetime · 5 years ago

Text

A place far away pt7

pairing: actor!Park Haejin x student!reader

Warnings: famous!au ; college!au ; litte bit of swearing?

genre: fluff ;

chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

(If needed I will add more warnings and upload the genre tags in next chapters)

Summary:

So that’s how all started.

It was a rainy day in Seoul and I was the new girl in town. Precisely the new girl in college, just moved from europe to study abroad.

Little did I knew Seoul was not the only korean thing I’d fell in love with.

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21st November

“Lillian! Your caffelatte!”

I looked up from my books just a moment, only to see a girl holding two cups in her hands desperately trying to get her friend’s attention.

This cafeteria in the campus often looked like this: loud and busy. I didn’t enjoy spending my time there to study, but that morning only the idea of staying home made me sick.

I spent the last two weeks studying for three exams, now focusing on the last one of those. Class? Chemical behind the skincare.

I went back to my notes, looking at graphics and formulas well written, trying to revise some useful acids for peeling and the benefits of vitamin c for our skin.

I sipped my coffee and looked at the time. Almost 11 o’clock.

It was so weird to think that the whole campus had the free morning. Someone definitely decided to spend it in bed sleeping, someone just enjoyed their free time and someone, like me, chose to keep on studying.

I never wanted to be the best student, but indeed I wanted to prove myself I could. I just needed to tell myself so, and actually work hard. Luckily, lessons were interesting and I found myself being capable of getting on the top of class.

Even cooking class was satisfying.

In the table next to me, a group of girls were chatting loudly, all smiling and well dressed. They were talking about the real reason why morning classes were cancelled and most of the girls went on campus anyways. The reason they all wore their best dresses and used tons of makeup.

An idol.

Or someone famous.

Again.

Yes, if months ago there were some weird visit by an entertainment company, that morning was the confirmation of a collaboration with the college.

So, an idol in that exact moment was in one of my college’s class filming some stupid advertisement about some stupid product, probably to attract teenagers who are still influenced by whoever is in the commercial.

And it worked just fine.

I sighed lightly reading again the same phrase on my notes. “What’s uva and uvb rays? And how uv sun rays damage our skin?”

Let’s say in the morning, especially on these cold ones, the last thing I think of is putting sunscreen on.

Just waken up then, after embracing a sky full of clouds, that’s definitely not my first thought.

And suddenly I thought about Nana who was surely still sleeping in her warm bed.

I lost every kind of concentration, desolated I closed my books and stopped looking outside the window.

I still had some time before the first lesson started, but it was so obvious that I wasn’t able to keep on revising.

This exam looked infinitely long to study and I still had one to go before the end of the year.

And then I suddenly started thinking about that lesson, one month and a half ago. About that speech the teacher made, about working in a company.

I sank into the chair, trying to make myself as little as possible.

I didn’t know what to do with this information. All my classmates saw the list and picked their favourite company. Some girls, after reading important company names, even started to study more.

And I was the only one in the class who hasn’t choose yet. Well, I didn’t even decided about doing this work or not.

I was one of the best students, suitable for the opportunity, but I was afraid about the whole working and going to classes and studying for exams at the same time. I could have just failed.

Plus, I really couldn’t understand why we had to choose a company, I could really work everywhere they wanted.

I snorted.

I knew my time was almost over, I couldn’t keep on procrastinating. A teacher already stopped me in the hallways to know if I made up my mind. I simply run away.

And then I suddenly thought about the no-boys rule, that has been recently broken by Nana a week ago at a really late halloween party. She kept on saying that she didn’t really broke our promise since she make out with a girl, but we both knew the truth.

On the other hand, I didn’t date anyone, girl or boy. I kinda made friends with other classmates, even ended up in a project group with Jackson, who kept being an acquaintance.

That’s it.

That’s it, like any other Hae-jin story then.

I looked up.

Y/n, stop thinking about him.

Yet, sometimes his kind smile came back to mind.

And even how we never met in the last month and a half, after bumping into each other almost every week.

Slowly the voices in the cafe became quieter and many people left, dispersing in the campus.

I sipped my coffee and I saw myself reflected in the window.

My eyes were tired from the lack of sleep and my cheeks bright pink because of the cold November.

I wrapped myself in my blue hoodie, judging again my morning decision to choose comfort over style. Countless times Nana tried to find any item in my wardrobe to save my outfits, that are so basic to her.

Anyways I did find a trick: just wear an elegant coat over every outfit and suddenly I didn’t look like a mess. Not completely.

I noted mentally to go shopping as soon as my mother sent me some money.

I got up picking my things up and throwing them inside the backpack and, against my will, I exited the cafeteria heading to class to revise the next coming exam. I wasn’t prepared for it, neither for the day ahead.

While i was quickly walking i kept hearing people chat about what was going on in college, and i even saw some people randomly run through the campus, going wherever they heard the idol’s last location was.

And it was just one of those crowds that crushed me. I stumbled, getting hit by thousands hands and shoulders that tried to get me out of the way.

I was almost falling when I ended up crushing a girl, she quickly grabbed me by my shoulders, holding me.

“Everything’s okay?’ She asked worried.

This girl definitely looked older than me, well I could guess she wasn’t going to college anymore. Her neat appearance made me feel ashamed. Everything about her made me think she was one of those girls who really treated herself good.

“I’m fine, thank you.” I said softly and bowed at her. She took a step back, feeling the embarrassment between the two of us.

With her right hand, closed into holding two different phones, she moved a lock of hair with her pinkie.

Only then I noticed she was holding, with her other hand, a big brown leather briefcase. She kinda looked like a business woman, only her windbreaker didn’t suit her style: an huge stuffed one, long ‘till under her knees, with an embroidered word on her chest, probably the name of the company she was working for.

She quickly excused herself and left, not giving me enough time to read that word. I only saw the logo, made by three little triangles that reminded me of the three Giza’s pyramids.

“Y/n!” I heard my name being called while trying to walk in the hallway. “Wait, y/n!”

I turned around to where I thought this voice came, only to see Nana, of course, running to me. In a couple of seconds she joined me and, well, actually she bumped into me, with the biggest hug.

“Y/n-ah, you have no idea how it’s so good to wake up late, i feel so fresh!” Saying so she slapped her cheeks lightly.

“Lucky you.” I looked up.

“Oh my god, what are those? Eye-bags?”.

“I haven’t been sleeping well lately.” I said shrugging my shoulders.

We walked side by side, in silence. Nana knew my weird sleeping habits, she knew it’s been weeks since I had a proper full night of sleep and, luckily, she knew when was the time to not say a word.

And I didn’t have to tell her more.

In the hallways people kept walking and talking, even louder than any other day, it was becoming annoying.

Everyone was frenetically moving, girls stopping mid walking looking at their phones, little half runs and continuously checking their hair.

I was getting curious to know who was the reason of this whole mess.

“Hold this: I have a concealer that matches your skin color.” Nana suddenly gave me her make-up trousse. We have so differently skin color, even different undertones, but I wasn’t shocked at all: we often tried make-up products together, even sharing them for fun. “If it’s not your color, you’re good enough to make it work it out. I know lately you’re not into this, but your eye-bags could literally scare the teacher.”

I smiled at her, knowing that she was trying to make me feel better and she definitely didn’t want me to look like a zombie.

We left in front of the class door, she headed inside to take seats while I just tried to remember where the closest toilet was.

Needless to say that I didn’t know at all: campus and buildings were huge, every lesson was taken in a different classroom and I still couldn’t orient myself. I only followed the signs.

I found myself walking for the whole hallway and after turning twice, fifty metres ahead, I ended up in a blind alley, with some doors on the sides.

Above one of them, a sign with a drawing of a lady. And behind that same door a group of girl exited the toilet. Coming across, we bowed slightly.

All of the sudden, behind myself I heard a soft sound, getting slowly louder until the rustle clearly turned into quick steps in the hallways.

I turned around confused, but I could only see me and the other four girls.

I was so focused on that sound which was gettin louder and kinda deafening because of the echo on the walls, that I didn’t notice I was slowly going backwards.

And when I turned, I didn’t have the time to clearly see the person I bumped into.

Raising my gaze, I saw some details.

A black button down shirt. A strong arm. Fine jawline.

And then the shoulder I literally crush into.

The man was taller than me so his shoulder was at the same height as my face, and because of my abrupt movement I ended up hitting him.

I got hurt on the side of my face, a strong smack at my right ear.

Suddenly my head started spinning, there was a loud strong whistle that kept shutting my thoughts. I stumbled untill I lied to the closest wall.

Every sound was padded. I brought my hands to my head, I could literally heard my blood angrily pulsing.

I didn’t know what was around me anymore. My vision was blurred, it was hard for me to focus on anything.

I ended up squeeze my eyes multiple times.

The man stopped, and I only knew because I couldn’t hear any close steps.

My legs were shaking and the whistle still there, not letting me think straight.

“Oh.” A manly voice that sounded so far away. “I am sorry.” His cold and formal words made me shiver.

The only thing I was thinking about was to find a quite place to sit, any place.

And then, like someone opened a door with air stream, steps and voices got louder.

The whistle left, letting me finally hear but every little sound now was painful as a stab. I looked up trying to recall the place, feeling the rough wall behind me.

I was so shocked to see a crowd of people coming towards me, and a man I could clearly see because he was taller than anyone. That man. He just run out to another hallway.

I didn’t see more because once I recognised the toilet door I only thought about laying on the little couch each bathroom in campus had.

I moved quickly.

I closed my eyes while sinking on it. Slowly I started feeling better, no more dizziness. My heartbeat was regular now.

Outside, finally the silence.

It still took me a couple of minutes before getting up. I decided to splash my face with some cold water and suddenly I felt a little better, more awake.

I could still clearly see how sick I looked.

Maybe it was time for that concealer to save me.

I quickly applied some makeup, trying to hide my dark eye-bags. I fixed my hair tying them up into a ponytail to look more clean.

“You look awful.” I whispered.

I exited the toilet and redo the same way backwards. Empty hallways and silences.

Only my steps echoing between the yellowish walls.

Three times I bumped into someone that morning. Three differs ways, three different people, three different pair of arms touched me.

Hold.

Loved.

Hurt.

Slightly bent over, I got closer to Nana who took a seat in the middle raw.

I tried to be as quiet as possible and to be the more invisible I could. The teacher already started the lesson and he was writing fast on the blackboard.

“Y/n, what happened?”

Nana asked after looking at the clock on the wall, and then at me. I let myself fall onto the chair, giving back her trousse.

“I don’t think I am feeling good, after class I am going home.”

I was slowly walking through the campus, heading to the exit while thinking about taking a long nap before getting back to study.

I needed to rest.

And i needed a painkiller for my headache.

“Miss. Y/l/n! Miss!” I heard a door slamming and quick steps. Beside me, my history of makeup’s teacher was closing our distance.

“Yes?” I asked. Behind him, inside the hallway people were talking and looking at us.

“I am truly sorry to disturb you, but I needed to know if you decided about the job. As I have already told you, this is the last week to sign up.”

“I am really thankful for your interest, but I haven’t had the time to look at the list, so I think I’ll have t-“ I couldn’t end the phrase because the teacher, after looking up for a folder and finding it inside his briefcase, interrupted me.

“Here it is.” He gave me the folder smiling.

“Honestly, I still won’t have the time to choose, I’m too busy studying for exams.”

“Miss y/l/n, that’s not the first time we talked about this.”

“I am truly sorry, I don’t think I’ll be able to study and work and attend classes, all together.”

“Miss, I never thought of you as a lazy person, but you know better than me that classes are ending soon and there are just a few exams to be taken. Do you really want to risk to lose this opportunity?”

“What if I can’t do it?”

“Miss, you’re on the top five of the class, we are positive you’ll be able to make it just fine. And if you won’t, we do not expect you to pass every exam this semester.”

“But it will be humiliat-“

“It will be more embarrassing to lose such an opportunity to work with professionals. I don’t want to force you, but I think you’ll regret this in the future.”

He kept smiling the whole time, trying maybe to reassure me, while his words were sharp.

I really just wanted to go home, forget about everything and sleep. Thinking too much made my headache stronger.

I raised my gaze, ignoring his face. Behind him, I could see some people staring.

“All I ask you is to think about it.”

I grabbed the folder and hold it tight.

I just needed to resist one more week, and wait for the deadline.

But the idea of meeting persistent teachers made me feel sick. More than I already was.

“Are you feeling good?” He asked worried, taking on step closer.

“Not really. Teacher, I don’t really have time to choose between the companies right now.”

“I have a proposal. Actually, you can even meet them now if yo-“ He stopped talking mid sentence. “A-are you feeling good? You look pale, do you need some water?”

“Thank you teacher, I just need to go home and rest.” I quickly smiled.

“Please, think about my proposal. I actually highlighted the company in the list and at the end of the folder I gave you some informations.”

He sounded so noisy.

“Okay okay. I surrender, I accept. Please send me via mail al the papers I need to fill and I’ll gave it back to you as soon as possible. But now, I really need to go.”

I quickly bowed and left, heading to the closest bus stop.

The headache was painful as ever. I found myself crying on my way home.

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A/n:

I am truly sorry, it took me ages to write this chapter. I keep on revising it because I think it’s kinda dark and sad: it resembles what happened in the last weeks.

AnywaysI hope you still like it, and please dm me if you want to be tagged in next chapters!

Look forwards to the next ones, they’re gonna be gooooooood!!

#park haejin #park hae jin #korean actor #story #park hae jin x y/n #park har jin x reader #park #k actor #kdrama #writing in the spare time #writing #a place far away #original #forest

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