#brother thought his college maths classes were too easy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

atlafan · 3 years ago

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a/n: hola!! So, I’m posting the first 7K here since this is just one long one-shot. I hope y’all will join patreon to continue reading the rest of the story. I worked really hard on this one, and for whatever reason I feel like this is some of my best writing. Enjoy!

Words in total: 38K

Warnings:

TW - mentions of abortion/planned parenthood

Some angst, mostly just two people being idiots

Smut - slight daddy!kink, slight soft dom

Being the new kid in school is never easy. When you’re in elementary school, it’s exciting. Everyone wants to know you and be your friend, but in middle school…the kids judged you on day one. Orla Murphy and her family moved to Boston halfway through fifth grade. It would have been one thing if it was summer, she’d be able to slide in undetected. She could just pretend she was from a different elementary school and be done with it. But no, her father got offered a new job in the big city that he couldn’t turn down. Orla’s an only child, so it wasn’t even like she could mope and complain with a sibling. It was just her and her parents, and even though her mother was a bit more sympathetic to her daughter’s misery, it didn’t make Orla feel better.

So, here she is, on her first day of school on February 1st standing in front of a classroom of kids she doesn’t know, being forced to introduce herself and where she’s from.

“Go on, Orla, tell us a little about yourself.” The teacher says with a warm smile.

“Um…I’m Orla Murphy, I just moved here from Vermont. I’m from a small town where the whole school is the size of this classroom.” She looks down at her snow boots before looking up at the teacher.

“Wow, this’ll be quite the adjustment. What do you like to do for fun?”

“I draw and listen to music. I play Barbies, um…that’s all I can think of right now.”

“That’s fine, thank you, Orla. You can have a seat now.”

Orla goes back to where she was sitting before she got called up to introduce herself to her home room. She slumps down into her seat and listens to the morning announcements. The bell rings and it’s off to math. The class goes across the hall to the other teacher.

By the time lunch rolls around, Orla isn’t feeling much better about her new school. She had brought lunch, and wasn’t sure who to sit with. Her class has two assigned tables, but she doesn’t want to take anyone’s usual seat. She contemplates going to eat in the bathroom until someone taps her on the shoulder.

“You can sit with me and my friends, if you want.”

She turns around to look at a boy with a mess of chocolate brown curls on his head, a pair of round glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, and braces gracing his smile.

“Oh, um, thanks.” Orla blushes and follows him to one of the tables.

“I’m one of the few people that brings lunch too, everyone should be over soon. I’m Harry by the way.”

“Hi.” She says shyly.

“What kind of a name is Orla?” He asks, biting into his apple after they sit down.

“It’s Irish…”

“Cool! Does it mean anything.”

“Golden princess, or something like that, I don’t really know. My dad’s Irish and I guess his grandmother’s name was Orla so they named me after her.”

“That’s really cool. My mom just liked the name Harry, and now that’s my name.” He shrugs. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“No.” She says, and pulls her sandwich out of her lunchbox. “Do you?”

“Mhm, I’ve got three older brothers, I’m the youngest. My oldest brother is a senior in high school, isn’t that cool? He’s going to college next year.”

“Does he drive you places?”

“Yeah! And sometimes he lets me sit in the front seat without my mom knowing. He’s the best.”

Orla felt like she was finally starting to open up, but Harry’s friends joined their table and took over the conversation. They acknowledged her, but didn’t make any effort to pull her back into the conversation. Harry noticed this and didn’t like it. She excuses herself a few minutes before the bell rings to go use the bathroom. There’s a study block after lunch where all of the kids in class could get a jump on homework, or read.

“Okay, everyone!” Mrs. Sampson, the teacher, cheers. “We’ve got a very special treat today. It’s Harry’s birthday, and his mom sent him in with cupcakes for the whole class!” Harry stands up and smiles as Mrs. Sampson places a birthday crown on his head. “Harry, would you like to pick someone to help you pass out the cupcakes?”

“Sure.” He nods and looks around the room. Many kids raise their hands with excitement. He spots Orla looking out the window with her chin resting on her fist. “I pick…Orla!”

Her attention snaps over to Harry while everyone looks at her. She stands up and walks over to him and takes a tray of cupcakes to help pass them out. Once everyone has their cupcakes, and a carton of milk supplied by Mrs. Sampson, the kids are allowed to sit with their friends and chat. Soon, some of the girls start talking with Orla, and it helps her feel more welcome.

By the end of the day, all of the kids are dismissed to go to their lockers and grab their backpacks before getting into their bus lines or go wait for their parents to pick them up. Orla sees Harry at his locker and she works up the courage to go talk to him.

“Hey, um, why’d you pick me earlier?” She asks him.

“Huh? Oh…I don’t know, I didn’t like that my friends were ignoring you at lunch. So, I just thought if you passed out the cupcakes with me more people would talk to you.” He rubs the back of his neck and grabs a card out of his locker. “Listen, I’m having a birthday party this weekend at Roller World, you should come.” He hands her the invitation. “The whole class is coming, it’ll be fun.”

“I’ll, um, I’ll ask my parents…thanks, Harry.”

“Don’t mention it.” He smiles. “Are you taking the bus home?”

“Yeah.”

“What number?”

“Eleven.”

“That’s my bus! You weren’t on it this morning.” He closes his locker and they start making their way to the auditorium where the bus lines are.

“Yeah, my mom wanted to drop me off this morning to walk me into the office so I could get my schedule and stuff.”

“Cool, where do you live?”

“I’m the second to last house on the left of Langston Ave…number twenty-four.”

“You can’t be serious. That’s literally right across the street from where I live! I was wondering who moved into that house. I’m number twenty-seven.”

“Whoa, that’s freaky.” Orla blinks.

“Well, at least you know you have a friend close by. We can wait at the bus stop in the mornings together if you want.” The two go into their line and wait as the teacher on duty keeps them at bay. “Do you wanna sit together?”

“That’s okay, I’m sure you have other friends you usually sit with.”

“Yeah, but none of them are new and exciting.” He scoffs. “Unless…uh, if you don’t wanna sit with me that’s totally fine.”

“No, I do! I just didn’t want you to think you had to offer.” She blushes.

“You’re funny, you know that?” He gives her shoulder a nudge with his hand, and the teacher lets the kids know they can go to their bus.

Orla follows Harry outside and onto bus eleven. He grabs a seat in the middle of the bus and sits down. Orla sits down next to him and smiles. The two talk the whole way home. Harry listens as Orla explains what her dad does for work and why they had to move.

“You’re gonna like living closer to the city, I think. It’s really fun to ride the trains and stuff.” Harry tells her.

They get to their stop and make their way off the bus. Orla’s mom is waiting outside on their front steps for her with a smile on her face.

“Um, thanks for being so nice to me today.” Orla says to Harry.

“You don’t have to thank me. Don’t forget to ask your parents about coming to my party on Saturday, okay?”

“Okay, bye.”

“See you tomorrow.” Harry smiles before crossing the street to his house.

“There she is! How was your day? Was that a new friend?” Orla’s mom gives her a big hug and kiss.

“Mum, stop!” She pushes her mother off of her and they both go into the house. “I got invited to a party on Saturday, can I go?” She hands her mother the invitation Harry had given her.

“Sure! I think I can make this work. I knew you’d make friends right away.”

“I didn’t make friends, I just made one. His name is Harry.” Orla sits down at the kitchen island while her mom makes up an after school snack for her.

“One is still good, Honey. I know this move hasn’t been easy for you, but I’m so proud of you for making it through your first day.” Mrs. Murphy sets down some peanut butter covered celery sticks in front of Orla. “Were your teachers nice?”

“Mhm, Mrs. Simmons is my homeroom teacher, and she’s my English and Social Studies teacher. Mrs. Rayburn is my math and science teacher from across the hall. We had a study block after lunch and we had cupcakes cause it’s Harry’s birthday. Tomorrow we have art after lunch.”

“That’ll be fun.” Mrs. Murphy smiles. “Wait until Dad gets home, he’ll be so happy to hear how your first day went.”

On Saturday, Orla takes a deep breath as she walks into the roller rink. Her mother is right behind her making sure she gets in safely. Orla grips the gift bag with Harry’s present in it as they walk further in.

“There they are.” Orla says to her mom, and they make their way over to the other kids and their parents.

“Orla, you made it!” Harry beams and gives her a high five. “Put that down, we can go get your skates.” He tugs her along to the counter while Mrs. Murphy says hello to Mr. and Mrs. Styles.

“Hi, Monique Murphy, I’m Orla’s mum.” She shakes both of their hands.

“You just moved in across the street, right?” Mrs. Styles says. “We’ve been meaning to come over to introduce ourselves.”

“No worries, I’m sure you’ve been busy putting all of this together. Your son has been so sweet to Orla these past few days.”

“We’ve always taught him to treat others with kindness. Um, is your husband at home, or is it just you two in that darling cape house?” Mrs. Styles asks.

“Oh, Shawn’s doing some unpacking for me. I work from home, and I needed him to put my desk back together and all that.”

While Mrs. Murphy gets acquainted with the other adults, Harry helps Orla lace up her skates. Many of the other kids say hello to her, but mostly keep to their established friend groups.

“Have you ever roller skated before?” Harry asks her as he helps her stand up.

“No.” She wobbles and latches onto his shoulders. “Maybe I should just sit this out. I don’t wanna slow anyone down.”

Harry rolls his eyes and takes Orla’s hand to help her get to the rink entrance.

“Come on, Harry! We’re gonna race!” One of the boys says.

“In a minute, I’m hanging with Orla right now.” He looks back at Orla as they both get onto the rink. “Okay, so you’re gonna glide right and left.” He spins around to take her hands, and starts slowly skating backwards. Orla looks at him with wide eyes. “I play ice hockey.”

“Oh, cool.” She swallows, and grips his hands as she follows his movements.

“There you go, you’re doing it!” Harry cheers her on. The DJ announces that cosmic skating is about to begin, and the rink goes pitch black. Neon lights turn on around the rink and everyone starts cheering. “Think you’ve got the hang of it so I can skate beside you?”

“Yeah, but you can go with your other friends. I don’t want you to think you have to babysit me.”

“I don’t think that.” He moves beside her and takes one of her hands. “It’ll just be easier to guide you like this.”

Orla ends up having a fun time with Harry, and she even warms up to some of the other kids. She learns that Logan, Owen, and Matt are Harry’s three best friends. Logan takes Orla’s other hand at one point and helps her skate a little faster with them. She laughs with all of them and gets the hang of skating on her own. Eventually it’s time for pizza, cake, and presents. Orla sits next to Sammy and Frida, two of the girls she was getting friendlier with in class. Harry starts opening his gifts. He gets some action figures, a new Bruins jersey, skate laces, and then he gets to Orla’s gift. From the few days Orla had spent getting to know Harry, she had learned that science was one of his favorite subjects. So, she got him a make your own volcano kit.

“Wow!” He exclaims as he pulls the kit out of the bag. “This is so cool! Thanks, Orla!” He smiles at her.

“You’re welcome.” She says back quietly.

After they eat, the kids go back for a few more rounds on the rink. Others go off to play in the arcade area. Kids start getting picked up by their parents, and Mrs. Murphy lets Orla know it’s time to go.

“I’m really glad you came.” Harry tells her.

“Me too, thanks for inviting me. Um, see you on Monday?”

“Yeah.” Harry pulls something out of his pocket. “I won these at the arcade, they’re just rubber bracelets, but I don’t need two of them. Do you want one?” He holds up the red rubber bracelet that has Roller World imprinted into it.

“Sure, thanks.” Orla takes the bracelet and slides it onto her wrist. She watches as Harry puts his own on.

From that day on, Harry and Orla were the best of friends. They did everything together. She’d go to his hockey games, and he’d invite her over to do homework after school. In the summer time they’d go swimming in his pool, and Mr. Murphy would grill them up some burgers. By the time eighth grade hit, the teasing started. Their friends told them to just kiss already, and they’d ask why they’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. Orla didn’t like Harry like that, as cute as he was. He was just her friend, and she liked it that way. Did they go to the eighth grade dance together and have a conjoined end of middle school party? Sure, but that’s what friends do.

High school is an entirely different ball game. They lived closer to the high school, so they didn’t need to take the bus. Harry and Orla would walk together every morning. They were put into different homerooms because of their last names, but they had many classes together. They were able to choose their seats so they made sure to sit together whenever they could. They had the same lunch period with their friends, so it was easy enough to get through the day. Orla tried out for the girls’ volleyball team, and she got on, so Harry would make sure to go to her matches. He made it onto the varsity hockey team, so Orla continued to go to his games as well. Again, people continued to ask if they were dating. This was mostly because Harry got more handsome by the day and girls were starting to express their crushes. Orla was pretty in her own right, but she was too shy to even look to see if anyone was looking back at her.

They went to school dances as a group, but they always danced to slow songs together. The summer between freshman and sophomore year of high school, the duo got jobs working at a retirement community restaurant that only hired high school students as servers. This meant new friends, and new people to hang out with after work. Most nights someone would host a fire in their backyard, and most nights this led to making stupid decisions. Orla and Harry didn’t drink, but they did smoke weed every once in a while.

“I don’t wanna smell like it, my parents would freak out.” Orla says to her friend who’s about to pass the joint to her.

“We could shotgun it.” He says.

“What do you mean?”

“I can inhale it and pass it to your mouth.” He smirks.

“Oh…” She furrows her brows. Harry isn’t paying attention to the interaction between Orla and Trevor, the sixteen-year-old boy who Orla secretly had a crush on. “Wouldn’t that be like kissing?” She giggles.

“Maybe, would that be a bad thing? If I kissed you?”

“You wanna kiss me?” Orla asks, but before she can get an answer, Harry’s hand finds her shoulder.

“My dad’s here, we need to go.” He says into her ear.

“Oh, um, okay.” Orla stands up.

“If you wanna stay longer, I can drive you home.” Trevor says.

“You’ve been smoking.” Harry says, stepping in front of Orla. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He takes Orla’s hand and tugs her along.

“Harry, where’s your dad’s car?” Orla asks when they get to the front of the house.

“He’s not here, I just said that so Trevor would leave you alone. We’re only a block away from home, let’s just walk.”

“Trevor wasn’t bothering me though.” Orla says to him as they start walking.

“Well, he was bothering me.”

“Why?”

“He was pressuring you into taking a hit off his joint.”

“No he wasn’t. And since when do you care if I want to smoke? It’s not like it would have been my first time.”

“I have some edibles in my room, we can have those.”

“Harry, you ruined something that could have been really special.”

“Yeah? Like what?” He huffs, walking slightly ahead of her.

“Trevor was going to kiss me, and I really like him.” Harry stops short and turns around to look at her. “And you know that would have been my first kiss, so…it would have been special.”

“You wanted your first kiss to be with a guy you would taste like weed in front of a ton of our friends?”

“No one was watching us.” She looks down.

“Why do you like him?”

“Because he’s cute and funny, and he always helps me buss my tables at work.”

“Is that all it takes?” Harry scoffs.

“What’s your problem? You flirt with girls all the time, you know.”

“Girls flirt with me, and news flash, I haven’t kissed anyone either. It’s not like I’m being hypocritical.” He rolls his eyes and starts walking again. Orla crosses her arms over her chest and follows behind him in silence. They don’t say another word to each other until they get to their street, and Orla starts to walk away from him towards her house. “Where are you going? I thought you were sleeping over.”

“Think I’d rather just be alone right now. I’m too annoyed to spend another second around you tonight.”

“You’re being a baby.” He follows her across the street and they both stop at the front of her walkway.

“And you’re being a jerk.”

“Why would you want your first kiss to be with someone who’s just trying to get into your pants?”

“He’s not like that.”

“Yes he is! I heard him, okay? I heard Trevor talking to Eric at the dish drop off. He…he has some bet with him that by before summer is over you two will have gone all the way.”

“You’re lying.” Orla’s eyes start to water.

“I’m not, why would I lie to you?”

“I don’t know!” Orla sprints off into her house. Harry sighs heavily and goes to his own house.

Mr. and Mrs. Murphy have already gone to bed, so Orla’s quiet as she makes her way up to her room. She washes her face and brushes her teeth before getting into her pajamas. She sits on her bed with her laptop so she can watch TV to calm down. About twenty minutes later, Harry’s climbing in through her window. She looks over at him with a pout and puffy eyes. He doesn’t say anything to her, all he does is cup her jaw and press his lips to her. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. Before she can even do anything Harry steps back from her.

“Now we’ve both had our first kiss.” He mutters, cheeks a deep shade of red. “I care about you, and you care about me…so it’s special.”

“Oh…well…thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He goes back over to her window, ready to climb back down. “Date whoever you want…just trust me about Trevor, okay?” With that he leaves.

She touches her fingertips to her lips and flops back into her pillows. Her first kiss was just with her very best friend, what could be better?

“Logan asked you to junior prom!?” Harry shrieks when Orla tells him after school.

“Shh, yes. I told him I had to talk with you first.”

“Well, do you want to go with him?”

“Not if it’s going to put you in a pissy mood.” She smirks.

“Do you…like Logan? Do you think he’d be a more fun date?”

“It’s not that I think he’d be more fun, but…you know he and I make out sometimes, it’d be nice to go with someone that I could be a little more intimate with. Besides, you have a crush on Josie, why don’t you ask her?”

“Because we go to every dance together.” Harry takes a deep breath. “Go with Logan, it’s fine. As long as you and I still take separate pictures together.”

“Of course! Oh, thank you, Harry!” She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek. She’s about to walk away from him to go tell Logan, but he wraps his hand around her wrist. She furrows her brows as she look at him.

“But for senior prom, let it be known now, no matter what, you’re mine.” He’s as serious as a heart attack. For some reason, Orla’s mouth feels incredibly dry. She nods in understanding and Harry lets her go. “Go on, go tell your lover boy.”

Orla runs off to go find Logan, and Harry rolls his eyes. He ends up going to junior prom with Josie, who was overjoyed when Harry asked her to go with him. They all have a good time, and they end up having a big sleepover party in Owen’s basement. The lights are dim, and the air is a little smokey. People are drinking, others are staying sober, no one is pressuring anyone to do anything they don’t want to do. Harry can’t help but glance over at Orla every once in a while. She’s sitting on Logan’s lap in a hoodie and joggers, but her hair and makeup are still all done up. They’re kissing and giggling, and Harry feels like he’s going to be sick.

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Frida shouts. Everyone gets into a circle on the floor, and they use a glass soda bottle to spin. Owen spins first, and it lands on Harry.

“Truth or dare?” Owne smirks at his friend.

“Dare.” Harry says confidently. Frida whispers something into Owen’s ear and he nods.

“I dare you to go into the closet with Orla for eleven minutes in heaven.”

Everyone falls silent. Harry and Orla look at each other, and then they both look at Logan and Josie.

“It’s not like they’re going to do anything. I say go for it.” Logan shrugs.

“This is so stupid.” Harry huffs and stands up. Orla follows behind him and goes into the closet.

“Timer starts now! We’ll let you out when it goes off!” Owen yells to them as he turns the music up.

Harry and Orla both cross their arms over their chests as they stand face to face in the cramped closet. They don’t say anything at first, but Harry breaks the silence.

“I think this is, like, the gazillionth time someone has dared us to do this.” He shakes his head.

“Sounds about right.” She sighs. “I’m so glad no one knows we were each other’s first kisses, they’d die if they found out.”

“Yeah.” Harry runs a hand through his hair. “Did you have fun with Logan tonight?”

“Mhm.” She smiles. “What about you and Josie?”

“She’s nice enough, I’m not really sure why I was crushing on her so hard for. She’s not really my type.”

“That’s too bad, I’m sorry.” Orla frowns. “I didn’t think you really had a type.”

“Well, I do.” He snaps. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I don’t think I do.”

“Why do you like Logan?”

“He’s always been sweet to me. I think he’s cute, he helps me with my history homework. And he’s a good kisser.” She grins.

“Is that all you’ve done together? Just kiss?”

“Yeah, I would have told you if something more happened.”

“So…no second base?”

“Has he groped my boobs? No, I’m not ready for something like that yet.” She laughs.

“I thought second was, uh, blow jobs.”

“I thought that was third.”

“No, third is fucking.”

“Then what’s home plate?”

“Being in a relationship.” Harry laughs, and so does Orla.

“That’s fucked up.” She shakes her head.

“Do you think you’ll get to any of that with Logan?”

“I don’t know to be honest. I’m not really worried about it. I’m just going with the flow with him. Why do you care so much? I know he’s one of your oldest friends, but-“

“That’s not why I care. I just…” He steps a little closer to her and tucks some loose curls behind her ear. “I know how sentimental you get about things, and I’d kill him if he ever did something to hurt you.”

She looks up at him. She can feel his minty breath fanning over her skin.

“You can’t be my first for everything, Harry.” She says quietly.

“Why not?” He whispers. He’s just about to lean in when the door swings open.

“So? Did anything happen?” Frida asks excitedly.

“Nope, sorry to disappoint you all yet again.” Orla says, and brushes by all of them to go grab some water.

Harry walks out of the closet, and they all continue their game. When they finish, they all go back to just hanging out. Orla takes her place back in Logan’s lap.

“Do you wanna go somewhere private?” He whispers to her.

“To do what?” She whispers back.

“You know.” He wiggles his eyebrows at her.

“Logan, I’m really only into kissing right now. I don’t want to do anything else.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice to kiss in private, though?”

“We do that in your car all the time.” She laughs. “I’m having fun with everyone right now.”

“You just don’t wanna sneak off because Harry’s here.”

“That’s not true.” She frowns. “I just know what I’m personally not ready for. I…I don’t have to explain myself to you.” Orla stands up and grabs her sleeping bag and pillow.

“What, you’re not going to sleep next to me now?”

“I never was.” She throws her things down next to Harry, and buries her face into her pillow.

“You okay?” He asks, rubbing her back.

“Why is every guy a jerk? Like, why is sex the only thing on your pea sized brains.”

“Because our brains are pea sized.” Harry smirks. “We don’t have room to think about anything else. Did Logan try to pull a move?”

“Sort of. He asked if I wanted to go somewhere more private, and I said no, and he said I was only saying no because you’re here, but that’s not the case at all. I just don’t wanna go further than kissing, and he couldn’t comprehend that.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No, I think that’ll just make it worse. It’s not like we were dating, it doesn’t matter. I just…do you think Josie will care if I sleep next to you?”

“Oh, her mom picked her up.”

“When?”

“Like an hour ago…after I politely declined a hand job from her.”

The two burst out laughing and get into their respective sleeping bags. Orla cuddles up to Harry’s side and he throws an arm around her. For the first time in a while, Harry’s able to fall asleep with ease.

The pair ended up going to the same college for undergrad, of course. No one expected them to go to different schools. However, their majors were vastly different. Orla wanted to be a Physical Education teacher, and Harry wanted to be a pediatric surgeon. So, while Orla was in her education courses, Harry was balls deep in biology, anatomy, chemistry, and calculus. Harry was assigned a roommate at random, another pre-med student; his name is Neil. And Orla ended up rooming with another girl from their high school who she didn’t know that well, but she figured it would be better than rooming with a stranger; her name is Katie.

During their freshman move-in, Harry got his shit settled and then went to help Orla. Their families all went out for lunch, and then it was just the two of them. Luckily, they were put in the same dorm, Harry would just be down the hall from her. Katie was an education major too, but her concentration was in social studies. Her and Orla would have a few basic education courses together before breaking off into their respective concentrations. She made it onto the women’s volleyball team, and Harry decided he’d just play intramural hockey when the season rolled around so he could focus on his classes.

Harry would go to all of his Orla’s home matches. As things got busier during the semester, they weren’t able to see each other as much during the day. They made up for it at night in the library or in their dorm rooms. The two had grown comfortable with one another over the years, so Orla had no problem just hanging out in a sports bra and spandex shorts around Harry, and he had no problem just wearing his boxers around her. One night, Harry was hanging out in Orla’s room while Katie was at work. They were laying in bed watching a movie. Orla was wearing one of Harry’s old Bruins shirts and a pair of cotton panties. Her phone keeps buzzing, and Harry’s just about had enough. He pauses the movie and sits up to grab her phone.

“Harry!”

“I’m muting your fucking volleyball group chat. I’m getting sensory overload from all of the buzzing…” He furrows his brows at the screen. “Why are they all asking you if you asked me something yet?” He looks up at her. “What do you have to ask me?”

“Nothing, it’s stupid.” She snatches her phone from him. “They’re stupid.”

“If it’s stupid then just tell me what it is.”

“Can we just watch the movie?”

“Give me your phone, I need to know.”

“No.” She hugs her phone close to her chest.

“Orla, just tell me what it is!”

“No!”

“Give me your phone!”

“No!”

Harry and Orla start wrestling on her bed. She’s not wearing a bra so sticking the phone down her shirt won’t work. She does the next best thing and shoved it down the front of her underwear. Harry pins her down by holding down her wrists.

“That’s not fair.” He says.

“It’s my phone.” She tries to wriggle out from underneath him, but he’s stronger than her. The phone buzzes again, and she grunts. “Harry, just let it go.”

“I’m literally not going to be able to sleep unless you tell me.” The phone buzzes three times in a row. Harry watches as Orla bites down on her bottom lip and looks away from him. “Oh my god, is that buzzing against your clit?” He laughs.

“Harry!”

“You did this to yourself.” He presses down against her to keep the phone even closer to where it’s effecting her. “Just ask me whatever it is and I’ll let you go.”

“You’re such an asshole!” She wraps her legs around his waist to try to flip them over, but her legs just aren’t strong enough. The phone buzzes again and she groans. “What are you gonna do, make me come you sick fuck?” She starts laughing from how absurd this whole thing is.

“I’m not the one who shoved my phone down my underpants.” He laughs. “Just tell me.”

“No.” Three more buzzes. “Fuck.” Harry’s eyes widen as he looks down at her, and she gasps. “Are you hard?!”

“No! I…my dick twitched!”

“Why?!”

“Because you’re moaning!”

“Harry, I swear to god if-“

The door opens and Kate comes in. She stops short when she sees Harry on top of Orla.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry.” Her cheeks heat up.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Orla shouts as Harry scrambles to get off of her. She takes her phone out of her underwear and takes a deep breath. “He was trying to read my texts and we started wrestling.”

“Right…” Katie puts her things down and grabs her shower caddie. “I’m gonna go take a shower. I should be back in about thirty minutes.”

“We weren’t doing anything.” Harry says.

“Mhm.” Katie scoffs and leaves the room.

“Will you go to my volleyball formal with me next weekend?” Orla says to Harry.

“What? Is that what you had to ask me?”

“Yes.”

“Orla, why were you making such a big deal about this?”

“Because the girls were making it seem like the formal is a big deal and…I know you have a lot on your plate right now. I didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? Of course I’ll go with you to your formal. It’s just one night, it’s not a big deal. I’m doing well in my classes, I’m not worried.”

“You got so stressed your cried two weeks ago.”

“I was overwhelmed during midterms, you know I have test anxiety.” He hops off her bed. “Don’t sweat it, okay? Just text me the details.” He yawns. “I’m headed up to bed.”

“Gonna go rub one out?” She smirks.

“No.” He blushes. “I’m gonna go play video games with Neil. Have fun masturbating with your phone.”

“Don’t need it. I have stronger devices.” She grins.

“Yeah? Need help using them?” He teases.

“Get out!” She laughs and throws a pillow at him.

Harry blows her a kiss before he leaves and she blows one back. When Katie comes back in after her shower, Orla’s put herself to sleep. Well, actually she’s watching TV on her phone with her earbuds in because she doesn’t want to listen to Katie give her shit about Harry.

The night of the formal, Orla wears a simple little black dress that’s also strapless. She slips on a pair of black flats as well. Katie helps her get her hair up into a cute messy bun on the top of her head while Orla does her makeup. (Orla had Katie help her flatiron her hair to tame it a bit. She usually loves her curls, but she’s been experimenting with different looks.) Around 10PM there’s a knock on their door.

“Come in!” Orla shouts.

“Ready to go?” Harry asks and nearly chokes on his tongue when he sees Orla. “Wow, you look really nice.”

“Don’t act so surprised.” Orla rolls her eyes.

“Want me to take your pic in front of the tapestry?” Katie asks.

“Yes, please.” Orla smiles and hands her the phone. She poses with Harry for a few pictures, and then they head out.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” Harry asks her on their way to the volleyball house.

“Nah, we won’t be out for long.”

They make their way into the house about ten minutes later. There’s a table set up like a bar for everyone to make their own drinks at. Harry sticks with beer while Orla goes for a rum and coke.

“Hey, O.” Ben smiles at her. Ben was a junior on the men’s volleyball team, and he’s very cute. “Saw you on defense at your last match, you looked great out there.”

“Thanks.” Her cheeks heat up, and she takes a sip from her cup.

“You come here with anyone?”

“Just my friend Harry.”

“Friend, huh?” He grins.

“Mhm.” She nods and takes a step closer. “He’s off talking to Chloe and Heather.”

“Not very nice to leave his date unattended.” He steps a little closer to her. “Especially when she looks so gorgeous.”

“Ben.” She giggles and gives him a playful push.

“You guys had one hell of a season. Aren’t you only one of, like, three freshmen to start this year?”

“Yeah, something like that.” She smiles.

“Gotta look out for the short ones I guess.”

“We’re pretty sneaky.”

An hour or so passes, and Harry can’t find Orla anywhere. He’s starting to get worried so he ventures through the house to see if maybe she went to the bathroom. She’s not in the one in the main hallway, so he goes upstairs.

“Where the fuck did she go?” He says to himself. He had been in the volleyball house plenty of times for various parties, so he had a good lay of the land. He goes to the larger bathroom, and opens the door.

“Ah, oh my god, B-Ben.” Orla’s head rolls back, allowing Ben to kiss on her neck. There she was, sitting up on the bathroom counter with Ben’s fingers knuckle deep inside of her.

“Orla?” Harry says.

“Dude, get out of here!” Ben shouts.

“Oh my god, Harry!”

Harry’s face flushes and he shuts the door immediately. He quickly goes down the stairs and weaves through the crazy amount of people in the house. He had been buzzed, but what he just saw totally sobered him up.

“Harry!” Orla shouts after him, but he doesn’t stop, he needs fresh air. “Harry, wait!” He pushes the front door open and sucks in a deep breath. “Harry! Oof!” She rams into his back and stumbles backwards.

“Get someone to walk you home, I can’t even look at you.”

“I thought he locked the door! And to be fair you didn’t knock.”

“I couldn’t find you for over an hour, excuse me for worrying about you.” He scoffs and turns to look at her.

“I was dancing with Ben and then we went upstairs, I’m sorry. I should have texted you.”

“Since when do you let random guys finger fuck you in bathrooms?”

“Um, Ben’s not a random guy. I’ve known since school started, what the fuck? I…I’ve been fingered before.”

“What? By who?” He shakes his head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” He chews on his bottom lip for a moment. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“I told Frida.” She rubs her arms up and down. “It’s as far as I’ve gone, and I’ve never taken my clothes off to have it happen…”

“Did you do anything to him?”

“I gave him a hand job.”

“Was that your first time doing that?”

“No.”

“Oh my god!” Harry runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know you anymore.”

“Are you going to tell me you haven’t done things? I’ve heard rumors, you know?”

“I’ve dry humped, that’s about it. No one’s ever seen my dick.”

“No one’s ever seen my vagina, not that that’s any of your business. There are certain things I don’t want to talk about with you, can’t you understand that?”

“I understand, I understand perfectly fine.” He goes to say something else, but he just shakes his head. “Come on, you look like you’re freezing.”

“That’s because I am.”

After that night, Harry let out his inner manwhore. During the spring semester, he fucked so many girls he lost track of their names. He didn’t tell Orla a single thing. He fucked all summer long without saying a word to her about it. When Orla first had sex the following school year, she slept with the same guy for the entire fall semester. It didn’t end well, though, which led to her crying into Harry’s chest for over an hour. That night they both opened up about everything, and agreed that keeping things to themselves wasn’t a good idea.

Undergrad flew by. Orla passed all of her certifications, and even found a job teaching phys ed at the high school level. She’d have all summer to work her ass off to save up some money and build her savings before starting fresh at her new school in the fall. Harry got accepted into all of the med schools he applied to, and was having trouble deciding.

“NYU is offering me the most amount of money…” He tells Orla one night.

“If…if you go there then you’ll probably end up working at a New York hospital.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you heard back from Harvard Medical yet?”

“No, and at this rate I bet I’m not getting in. Besides, they’re known for offering shit grants. My parents can’t afford to help. All of their money went to their lawyers.” Harry rolls his eyes.

After Harry’s freshman year, his parents told him they were getting divorced. His three older brothers had long since moved out, and with Harry gone his parents realized they just weren’t right for each other anymore. He didn’t take it well. This may have led to him fucking a lot that summer, and the absurd amount of tattoos he got.

“Then I guess…I guess you’re going to NYU.” Orla swallows. “You should do it, it makes the most sense, and you’ll get a great education.”

“Harry!” Mrs. Styles shouts from downstairs. “You got a large letter from BUSM!”

“Holy shit, I forgot I applied there.” Harry says, and the two race downstairs. Harry rips open the large envelope and gasps. “Oh my god! I was accepted in to BUSM’s MD program. Holy fuck, they partner with Boston Medical Center for their surgical residencies.” He looks at his mom, then Orla.

“Are they offering you any money?” Orla asks.

“Orla, um…do you mind if Harry and I go over this together? I’m going to need to FaceTime his father to discuss everything.”

“Oh, sure! Yeah, this is a big family moment. Come by later if you want, H.” She smiles and leaves.

“They’re offering me a decent amount of aid, Mum.” Harry says as he reads over the letter.

“Honey…don’t you want to get out of Boston? NYU could be a great experience for you.”

“Mum, BUSM is a prestigious medical school. Why would you want me so far away?”

“I don’t want you far away, I just want you to have some life experience, meet new people.” She chews on her bottom lip. “I don’t want you to stay here just because you don’t want to leave Orla.”

“That’s not why I want to stay.” Her mother gives him a look. “Okay, maybe I want to stay closer so I don’t have to be far away from her. Can you blame me? We’ve been best friends since the fifth grade. I couldn’t imagine only seeing her once every few months, and then I’d probably have to move out there full time, and she’s only certified to teach in Mass.”

“Honey, you’ve never had a stable girlfriend. Maybe being away from Orla could help you do that.”

“I just haven’t met anyone, it’s not her fault.”

“You’ve liked her since the day you met.” She laughs, astonished at his ignorance.

“No, I’m not one of those guys that’s only friends with a girl because he wants to date her.” Harry rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t say that’s why you were friends. I just think if something was going to happen between you two it would have happened already. So, stop wasting your time waiting for her.”

“I’m not waiting for her to do anything. She’s my best friend, and she’s always going to be my best friend. BUSM makes more cost-effective sense. Think of how expensive the hole in the wall apartment I’d be living in in New York would be. I could definitely find a better priced place here, or I could commute for a bit to save money.”

“If you’d rather go to BUSM, then go. But make sure you’re doing it for yourself and not just to stay close to Orla.”

“I’d say it’s about 80/20.” He smirks, earning him a swat to the arm from his mother. “I’m kidding! It’s more like 60/40.”

“Jesus Christ, go call your father and let him know the good news.” She sighs.

Flash forward to present day – eight years later. The pair are twenty-eight; Harry is an attending pediatric surgeon at Boston Medical Center, making absolute bank, and Orla is at her third high school in six years because budgets keep cutting funding, which means P.E. teachers aren’t exactly in high demand. She lives in a small one-bedroom apartment, she’s constantly exhausted, and she wishes she had chosen any other profession. She coaches the girls’ volleyball team for extra money, and works at a bar on weekends and in the summer.

Harry and Orla are still the best of friends. They’ve made it through a lot of ups and downs. Through it all they’ve always had each other. He’s currently seeing a girl named Bailey that he met at a bar near work. Orla is going through a dry spell, but she’s not dwelling on it.

The school year had just ended, thank god, and she has Sunday through Tuesday off from the bar. Orla takes some time to go through her wardrobe and get rid of any dingy leggings or tee shirts. She has a strict budget for clothes because she’s constantly having to replace her athletic wear. She’s chilling on the couch Tuesday evening watching Property Brothers: Forever Home when she hears the jingle of keys on the other side of her door.

[READ THE REST ON PATREON]

#save the best for last #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x oc #harry styles au #doctor!harry #doctorry #friends to lovers #bestfriend!harry #dad!harry #dom!harry

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anothertimdrakestan · 4 years ago

Text

Familiar Green

Damian Wayne x Reader Soulmate AU

In an AU where when your soulmate and you touch you feel sparks and intense warmth! Damian is around 16-18 ish in my head!

Being a sucker for a good love story you couldn’t help but always feel jealous watching your classmates, friends, and even strangers on the street find their soulmate. You watched as kids bumped into each other only to see their eyes meet at the feeling of sparks. What did the “sparks” even feel like? As a child you were about ready to touch an electric fence to understand the feeling.

As you grew up your focus eventually left your soulmate and you spent far to much time focussing on school work. You got into Gotham Academy on a merit scholarship from the Wayne Foundation and you were determined to put it to good use. Money was a sore subject and your family had been scraping by since you could remember. Your parents were soulmates and always said that their love would conquer all or some sappy shit like that. The only thing you were in love with was knowledge and that was just fine. In classes you were attentive and quiet, learning quickly no one liked a smart ass. Teachers often slipped you materials for projects knowing you probably didn’t have them at home and you sat in the back minding your own business.

You never ran with the popular crowd. You had friends you walked to class with and studied with, especially friends who were as driven as you but you never had a BEST friend. The person you tell everything to and a confidant who shares your passions and jokes with like no other. You would wait for the sparks to show you who that would be.

Currently, you were planning a speech for the annual Wayne Family Gala where all their merit scholars would show what they were doing with their scholarship. The speech was somewhere in between intense bragging about your grades, achievements, and experiments while also thanking the Wayne family every two words. You had it planned perfectly: big purse to get snacks for the endless speeches, the same dress you’ve worn the last two years, and one gratitude dance then home. Easy.

When the bell released you from the last class you began pushing towards freedom. Students grumbled and shoved through the tight halls and you rolled your eyes at the stupidity of those walking against the crowd or those stopped to chat about nothing. With the door in sight you sped up, pushing hard when you felt a zap. Your heart stopped, turning around to the sea of people pushing past you. The feeling was comforting yet alarming, the friction of just tapping shoulders was enough to stop you dead in your tracks. What seemed like endless hoards of people pushed past you while you stood begging for the person who felt it too to run back to you.

“Look at the genius who forgot how to walk”

Words shook you from a daze as you looked up to see a football star with a 2.1 GPA staring you down. Rolling your eyes you headed out for fresh air and a walk home to prep for the gala, but you couldn't shake the feeling resonating in your shoulder.

-- agressive time skippppp --

As you watched your classmate wrap up his speech on his first place win at the Math Olympics you realized it was time for yours. The two of you did a quick high five before you found yourself alone, shaking hands clutching note cards with bright white lights blinding you from seeing Gotham’s most powerful staring expectantly up at you. With a deep breath, you began recounting the highlights of your year. Finding Mr. Wayne’s face up near the front you saw him nodding as you detailed your research with collegiate professors, perfect test scores, and passion. Thanking the board members one last time you looked to the cameras and gave a big smile before heading back behind the stage.

Once away from the prodding lights you let out the breath held in for the entire speech. Until next year Gothamites. Detailing your plans to chat up the rich folk, dance in front of the cameras photographing merit scholars then leaving and probably getting fast food on the way home, you smiled to yourself knowing it was almost over. Heading out to the main floor you listened politely to the rest of the speeches before scouting out the person with the biggest net worth in the room.

Making your way around the room, you accidentally locked eyes with none other than Mr. Wayne who gestured you over. Estimating that the money held between Mr. Wayne and the men he was talking to stood around a couple trillion dollars you gladly complied, hoping to find a sponsor for more research, maybe even college scholarships.

“Hello Miss. It’s y/n right?” you politely greeted Mr. Wayne trying not to gawk at his suit that probably cost more than your family’s rent. Finding your inner confidence you took the opportunity to explain your passions and ask questions of the people in the semi-circle formed around you. While talking, a young man came to stand next to his father, clearly impressed with your credentials. After a couple glances you recognized the light smirk and emerald green eyes as Damian Wayne. You saw him as the opposite of you, he floated through Gotham Academy on Daddy’s wallet, barely showing up to school and often wearing dark sunglasses to hide what you assumed to be a hangover from partying the night before. Giving him a curt smile you continued, mostly focused on David Shield, a man about 55 who ran a series of fancy hotels, he shared passions with you and looked very interested.

The more you spoke the more Shield focused on you. Eventually, he offered to bring you to get a drink (non-alcoholic you assumed) and talk about a possible partnership. Quickly you began thanking the men around you will either a nod or a quick handshake. You couldn’t pass up the opportunity to shake Bruce Wayne’s hand and you almost fainted when you realized you were shaking hands with THE Bruce Wayne. Lastly you turned to Damian and saw Mr. Wayne pat his back, forcing him to hold out a hand, rolling his bright green eyes lazily. As you went to shake it Mr. Shield tapped your shoulder hurrying you saying “let’s go princess I’m in a hurry here” as he started walking off. This was the opportunity of your lifetime, you tried to walk past Damian, hurriedly trying to follow Mr Shield. When your shoulder brushed Damian’s and you felt the familiar sparks again your heart ripped in half. You could swear you heard them crack and pop in the air as you locked eyes with his green ones. Ready to forget about Mr. Shield you turned to Damian only for him to put two hand on your shoulders and mouth “Go I’ll find you” as he tried to direct you towards Mr. Shield. Where his hands made contact with your collarbone warmth erupted you could feel each finger radiating and sizzling against your bare skin.

In a daze, you felt Damian let go and you stumbled towards the bar. Mind racing you couldn’t stop turning back to Damian, who was in deep conversation with his father, both of them stealing glances at you. Trying to focus on the room and not the cold feeling from missing your soulmate’s touch you felt a hand snake around your waist and pull you towards the bar. Looking up at Mr. Shield who held your waiste for far too long you tried to shake off all thoughts of Damian and secure your future. Mr. Shield told you to call him David and he tried to order a fancy alcoholic drink for both of you. Asking for a club soda he paid and the two of you spoke about shared interests and a possible collaboration. Trying to focus on the conversation and not the feeling of your heart beating out of your chest was extremely difficult.

After sipping bubbly water with Mr. Shield David and him deciding to grant you the money you needed you felt ecstatic. Trying to wrap up the conversation and look for Damian Mr. Shield wouldn’t end the conversation with you. Your heart sunk as you saw the paparazzi follow Mr. Wayne, Damian, and his three brothers out of the ballroom. The only breath of hope you felt was seeing familiar green eyes frantically scanning the ballroom for who you hoped was you, but his eyescouldn’t find yours.

Defeated you returned to speaking with David but decided it was late and you were feeling more lightheaded than normal. He offered a ride home and you couldn’t pass it up, not feeling too well, probably because of the loud atmosphere and heavy air. Getting up you felt him place his hand in the small of your back and though you tried to twist or politely shake it off he kept it there. As you stumbled towards the door you felt worse and worse. Knowing something was seriously wrong you decided it was better to wait outside for your parents to come get you. You tried to explain the situation but Mr. Shield adamantly said you had to come with him. Beginning to get woozy and frustrated you started pushing him away.

“Y/n sweetie let me take you home” he purred

“You don’t even know where I live let me go” you stopped dead in your tracks.

“C’mon just right here let’s get in” he gripped your arm and immediately fight or flight kicked in and momma didn’t raise no bitch. You began to hit his chest, yell, and try to slither out of his grip. Your fist connected with his chin and he stumbled back, visibly angered he advanced toward you and you realized this was not going to end well. Closing your eyes you braced for pain but felt a smaller, latex covered hand wrap around your waist with a woosh.

With your eyes still closed you couldn’t tell if you really were floating in a stranger's arms or if you were just heavily drugged. Opening an eye you saw the gala building grow smaller and you decided it was definitely the former, but probably also the latter. Sucking in a breath you looked up to see a domino-masked, red and yellow-clad vigilante holding you with one arm and a grapple with the other. Realizing you were literally hundreds of feet above solid ground you wrapped your arms around Gotham’s own Robin squeezing his neck and feeling a familiar spark. Unable to connect the dots due to a heavily drugged brain you clung to the hero praying for your life until you heard

“y/n we’re safe now” from a familiar, and very concerned voice.

Peeking up you realized he was still holding you as you clung to him though he stood comfortably stable on the roof of a building. Gingerly you put your feet on the ground, not releasing him from your grasp feeling the sparks fly between your fingertips and his neck. Looking up at Robin you moved a hand to his cheek, sparks sizzling and jumping more so than ever. And in what was probably not your smoothest moment you mumble

“hey Damian” at the masked figure. Your fingers instinctively tug at the domino mask and as you expected, the same piercing green eyes looked down at you.

“hello y/n” he nodded. His eyes began to scan you for any signs of pain and you assured him you were fine.

“disgusting of David Shield to try to drug a teenager especially my own soulmate TT” your heart fluttered at the acknowledgment of the bond. You reached up to touch his face again just to check the sparks were still there. Like clockwork electricity danced between the two of you. Content with the feeling you decided to share some personal information. Whatever Shield gave you made you bold if nothing else.

“You know I’ve wanted a soulmate my whole life. I’d let Shield go after me again if it meant I’d get to meet you. Especially if it meant my soulmate was this hot holy hot damn” Damian’s eyes softened looking down at you and his lips pulled into a smirk but you could tell no amount of comfort would stop his anger.

“Trust me beloved no one will go after you ever again” he pulled you against him and you instinctively wrapped your arms around his torso, fitting together like a puzzle. Even with a cool breeze blowing around the top of the building the warmth from holding your soulmate was enough to have you melting into his arms. In that peaceful moment every cliche made sense. This was feeling you wanted to feel forever. You heard a light buzz from his earpiece with a voice asking about his location and status. With a curt reply Damian told you it was time for him to take you home. Holding onto Damian as he swung down he whispered in your ear

“I could get used to having you in my arms beloved” and with a giddy smile you replied

“I’d hope so lover boy you’re kinda stuck with me forever” at this he squeezed you tighter, his eyes shining with an emotion he’d never felt before and you looked up filled with excitement for the emerald green eyes you’d spend the rest of your life looking at.

#damian wayne #damian x reader #damian wayne x reader #dc #batfam #damian wayne x y/n

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sierraraeck · 4 years ago

Text

Daylight

Spencer x GN! Reader

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: After a long time without answers and your relationship ending on rocky terms, you run into Spencer and can finally put things to rest. Part one.

The prompt from @veraiconcos Fic Writer Challenge was “If I asked you to stay, would you?” This is bolded within the fic.

Category: Angst. Just pure angst.

Warnings: Cussing. Mention of normal CM stuff. Suggestive content.

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: This was initially a songfic and now it’s not, however it was still inspired by the song “Daylight” by Maroon 5. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. Also, I tried to make this gender neutral, but if I did not, please let me know what I need to correct.

Internal dialogue

Flashback

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

In one word, complicated.

Yes, that was a cliche and overused, but there was really no better way to describe your relationship with Spencer. Unless of course people preferred terms like arduous, intricate, convoluted, twisted, entangled, or your personal favorite, fucked up. Although, that might be a little harsh. Kind of. It was complicated.

And things continued on that path when you waltzed into the San Jose precinct, ready to defend your client against none other than the BAU.

Despite being 28, you were already one of the most successful defense attorneys in the state, and had already had a couple run-ins with the FBI. Luckily, none of those had been against the ‘all-powerful’ behavioral analysis unit, and you were able to wrangle out some wins, or at least, the best you could have hoped for given the circumstances. This time, a man, Brayden Lee, had been arrested as a suspect for a series of strangulations, all of the victims tall, blonde, college athletes. Looking over his case and the amount of evidence against him, you felt sure that you could manage a favorable deal.

But now, your strides faltered as you saw the team of profilers standing around in a circle, speaking in hushed voices, immediately turning around to watch you in. Well, it wasn’t necessarily them that teetered your confidence, it was more like him. And that damn hair.

You were at your older brother’s graduation. A small, skinny kid with moppy brown curls walked across the stage, the gown he was wearing clearly three sizes too big for him. He looked really young, about your age, which immediately interested you.

“Spencer Reid,” the announcer called. He accepted his diploma, moved his tassel from one side to the other, and plopped right back down in his seat.

You just stared at him from your place high up in the bleachers, almost missing your brother as he walked across the stage. You clapped and cheered, but you still couldn’t tear your eyes from the strange kid who’d walked across moments before him. When the ceremony was over, you asked your brother who he was, and all he gave you was a shrug and an arched eyebrow. That was not exactly the answer you were looking for. So you took it upon yourself, being the awkwardly brave kid you were at 12, to find him and learn more. You ended up taking him home after the ceremony, and that was that. You still remember the dopey smile he gave you as he hopped out of the backseat, a smile that you would miss for three more years.

You tried to compose yourself as you avoided eye contact with any of them, marching toward the interrogation room to have some time alone with your client. But it had never been this hard to concentrate before.

Snap out of it. It’s been four fucking years, six if you really think about it, so you need to get it together. This man, the one right in front of your face, needs your help.

So you did just that. As a lawyer, you had to have intense focus, so you made yourself hone in on that skill. The two older men of the team came in to have quite the nice chat with you and your client, but it ended fairly close to how you predicted. He would be let off, for now, but you would have to stay on call in case they found more evidence of your client’s guilt. You ushered Brayden out of the station and into a cab, telling him that you’d be in touch if anything else came up and to keep a low profile.

You were ready to be done, but had to make sure there weren’t any other loopholes or things they weren’t telling you before you could leave. You trudged back into the precinct, expecting to talk to the two men you saw earlier, but found that once-nerdy boy you used to know waiting for you. Not to say he wasn’t still nerdy, you were sure he was, but he’d definitely changed since the last time you saw him.

You tried to act as professional as possible, “Is there anything else that I need to know about this case and your evidence against my client?” Honestly, you were shocked at how calm your voice sounded.

“As long as you’ve heard about his recent purchases and easy access to the material used to strangle these women, no,” he responded, just as casually.

“Okay great, and nothing else in the profile I should be aware of?”

“Nope.”

“Alright then,” you said, turning on your heels to walk out.

“That’s it?” Spencer’s tone suddenly sounded confused, even accusatory, which was such a stark contrast to the smoothe, gentle voice you remembered.

You were at the local library studying for your midterms before the holiday break. No one really went there anymore, and there were a ton of good research tools available, so it was the perfect quiet study spot. Well, mostly quiet, that was, until the ever-so-irritating ping of books being checked out was going off non-stop. You’d had enough, so you shot over your shoulder, “Jesus, how many books do you need?”

The pinging immediately stopped, and you heard a small, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bother you.”

It wasn’t a lot, but something about that voice seemed familiar. You turned fully around to see those piercing gold eyes staring at you, and you recognized those curls.

“No way. You’re the kid who graduated high school at age twelve! I remember you,” you blurted before really thinking.

“Yeah. Hey (y/n),” he said.

“I’m so sorry I snapped at you like that…”

“Spencer,” he filled in, after hearing you hiss like a snake, trying to jog your memory of his name.

“Spencer! Sorry about that, I’m just kinda stressed about my exams,” you explained.

“It’s okay, I understand,” Spencer replied, gesturing to his ever-growing pile of books.

You inquired about how things were going for him, and he told you all about how his first year and a half in college had been, already obtaining his bachelor’s in mathematics.

“That’s so impressive. Think you could help me?” you said in a somewhat mocking tone.

Of course, he took you seriously, not picking up on the half-joke. “Sure.”

Although, you were thrilled he offered, and the two of you spent the next couple of hours talking about high school and college classes, your seemingly easy math compared to his, and him helping you with any other subject you needed help with, like AP biology and psychology. At the end of the night, you gave him your phone number, trying to cover up your little crush with a joke about needing his help as you rushed out into the freezing night air.

He never used it.

“Yeah. That’s it,” you shot over your shoulder.

“(y/n), hold on, I-” he started.

“Doctor Reid, they need you in the conference room,” some lady said. Now that caught your attention. You spun back around to look at him with raised eyebrows. His mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes flitted between you and the lady who told him he was needed.

“What are you waiting for, Doctor,” you sneered. He let out a sigh, giving you one last pointed look before turning away. You didn’t even know people called him ‘doctor’ now.

You returned home, hoping that the case would get cleared up easily, that they’d find a different culprit and you wouldn’t have to risk that floodgate of emotions bursting open. No such luck. They found Brayden at the scene of the crime, literally in the middle of digging up an old victim to do god knows what with, and took him back into custody. When you got back to the precinct, you told your client not to say a word, and asked what the charges were and if he was going to be transferred in the meantime. The answers to your questions were not in your favor, and you had one of the worst client-lawyer conversations you'd ever experienced. The man wouldn’t tell you a damn thing, and if he didn’t tell you anything, then you couldn’t help him. Of course, it was your job to try and help him as best as you could, but you whole-heartedly believed he was guilty too, which didn’t help you keep the right mindset. Plus, your heart was pounding into your ears for more reasons than being across the table from a serial killer.

Focus, please, you begged yourself. And you did, for a while, but it became a futile effort. At one point you just wanted to say ‘fuck this shit, lock him up’ and leave, you were that desperate.

When it was all over and the station was getting everything together in order to transfer him to a holding facility, you tried to slip out the doors and wait outside. Only moments after, though, you heard the door squeak back open.

“(y/n),” Spencer started.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly interjected. You had been contemplating for the last day or so if you needed to apologize, and just figured you would, if not for your sake, for your clients’. I mean, they would probably end up testifying at some point, not like that was the main thought going through your mind, but you convinced yourself it was. “I shouldn’t have conducted myself like that earlier. It was unprofessional and you were just trying to talk to me.”

“It’s fine. I probably deserved it,” he acknowledged.

“Probably, but that’s all in the past and I should have left it there,” you concluded. You both stood in absolute silence until it became too much to bear. You decided you’d at least try to act natural, “So how have things been since the last time I saw you?”

Spencer looked at you with surprised eyes, but answered with, “They’ve been interesting. There always seems to be a new case. How about you?”

“Same. Just one after the other, but it’s nice knowing I’m helping people,” you added.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

Come on, what else can you throw out there? “Uh, so, they call you ‘doctor’ now?”

He offered a small laugh. “Yeah, they do. When I started, you know, I was much younger than anyone else in the bureau-”

“Still are,” you interjected.

He continued, “-true, but one of my mentors, who’s gone now, told people to call me that and I guess it just stuck.”

“Well, it sounds nice.”

“Thanks. I hear you are doing pretty well yourself, getting national mentions and such,” he stated.

You raised your eyebrows, “You heard about that?” A year or so back you got recognized as the top rising talent in your field of work, but you didn’t think that news would make it to the other coast. Unless he was specifically looking for that information…

“Yeah, I did. The FBI likes to keep tabs on people that might cause them the most trouble in a case, you being one of them.”

“Seriously?” You were astonished. The FBI was keeping tabs on you? “Why?”

“Just in case they get tired of opposing you and would rather work with you,” he shrugged, “But you seem to be having fun opposing right now.”

You let a smile reach the surface at that. “That obvious, huh?”

“I’m a profiler. Plus, you’ve always had a thing for opposing the ‘overbearing’ power and sticking up for the little guy.”

That was a little too close to home. You knew he meant that in more ways than one, and you couldn’t help but think about that god-awful night when you were just two kids trying to take a walk in the moonlight. The night that solidified your friendship.

It happened so fast. All you did was walk away for a second to throw your trash away, but that was all it took for the boys to pounce. Spencer had been attending CalTech for three years, and you were there to pop into the chemistry class, which you conveniently had with Spencer. Those other 20 year olds hated you and Spencer for the sole reason that you were two nerdy 17 year olds that were making them look bad. They’d already gotten in a few good punches before you returned, but when you did, you were livid. They were holding Spencer up while taking turns at him. You worked quickly, setting your phone to record before stepping in between one of the boys and Spencer. You hadn’t intended on getting caught in the crossfire, but you did, landing yourself a pretty bruise on your cheek for the next two weeks. You yelled at them about how they were assaulting a minor and how you now had all of their faces on tape, along with some other legal shit. One of them smashed your phone and went for another punch, but you kicked him in the throat before he could get to you, putting him flat on his ass. He tapped out, and you later found out he’d gotten whiplash from how he landed on the ground. They ran off, and when you turned around, Spencer collapsed in your arms. He was littered with cuts, blood, and already developing bruises. You took him back to his dorm and cleaned him up, spending the night before figuring out how to recover the footage. Once you did, you showed it to the board members, effectively expelling the boys and bringing them up on charges for assault. They got convicted, and no one screwed with either of you again. That was the moment you really decided to become a lawyer.

“Yeah, I guess I have,” you murmured. Brayden was brought out in cuffs and shoved into the back of a squad car, which was your cue to get moving. You had a full case on your hands.

You turned to leave, but as you did, Spencer stopped you. “Hey, would you maybe want to catch up later?”

You didn’t remember him ever being so bold before, and were caught off guard by the question. You stumbled out, “Uh, what did you have in mind?”

“Just … coffee, maybe?”

“Sure,” you said, and immediately saw Spencer’s shoulders relax. “Do you still remember where Arnette’s is?”

“Of course,” he responded. That used to be your favorite go-to spot.

“Alright then. I should be done with this at around eight,” you said, hopping into your car before he could respond. The officer with Brayden had already sped away, and you needed to stay close behind.

The whole drive you kicked yourself for saying yes. You were getting over him. You had gotten over him. And you loved Jordan and couldn’t help feeling like this was somehow betraying him. Plus, why should you be meeting him to catch up? He hadn’t been interested in that for five years! I mean, you put everything into making your relationship work. Sure, you were realistic that it wouldn’t last, but he could have at least tried.

You had it planned out. You would keep in touch until you could go out and visit him during the summer for Fourth of July during your sophomore year of college. The next year, he’d visit you, and the one after that, you’d visit him and so on. But that was the problem. There was no ‘so on.’ You visited him for the second time and that was it. And pretty soon, you could barely get him to pick up the damn phone. The last thing you heard from him was that he was pretty busy starting out with the BAU, along with an unanswered text wondering how his first case went.

But, you already agreed, so you might as well just see what happens.

You threw on some nice, non-work clothes and drove to the little shop on the corner. God you felt like a teenager.

It was just before eight and Spencer was already there waiting for you. Of course he was.

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that this was supposed to be two people who used to care about each other, and honestly still do, just catching up. Simply talking. About the present, no need to worry about the past.

“Hey, (y/n).” You always liked the way he said your name with welcoming confidence.

“Hey,” you replied. He opened the door for you and you shuffled in. With no surprise, you were the only two in there, and he went ahead and ordered for both of you, remembering what you wanted with ease. You gave him a bit of a confused look as you waited for your drinks.

“What?” he asked, clearly uncomfortable by your staring.

“Nothing, it’s just that you remember my order, that’s all.”

“I do have a really good memory,” he reminded you.

“Yeah, but you also told me once that that only went for visuals, and your eidetic memory didn’t really work on audio,” you quipped.

“That’s true. I guess some things just stick. Plus, it’s not like you made it hard on me. You always ordered the same thing.”

You laughed a little, “I guess that’s true.”

You grabbed your drinks and left the hole-in-the-wall, autopilot kicking in, taking you both along the path that went around the park. Spencer sighed.

“Hm?” you questioned.

“Just, you know, thinking,” he said, brows furrowed.

“About what?”

“How we used to do this all the time. You’d finish your high school classes, drive over to CalTech for chemistry, and then afterward we’d stop by for coffee and a walk,” his voice sounded like he was in a dream, and he looked into the night air as if there was some answer or memory floating around out there. You guessed there was a memory floating around out here.

“Yeah those were crazy years,” you recalled. “I felt like I was constantly on the move and everything was happening all at once and I had all of this stuff I needed to get done. But this was always a nice place where I could clear my head and forget all of that.” That feeling was starting to return as you kept walking, the sticky air of California clinging to your skin.

“It was nice. I miss those days sometimes,” he said.

What is he getting at? “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

You walked in silence for a while, but you could see Spencer’s posture tense up more with each step. There was something on his mind and he wasn’t telling you.

“What is it?”

“What is what?” he acted bewildered.

“What’s on your mind?” He tried to shrug it off and deny it, but you knew him better than that. It might have been a while, but some things, like he said, just stick. And the way his body acted when he was thinking was one of them. “Don’t even try that. I know when there is something bothering you, now out with it.”

“Who is it?” That was all he offered and it was your turn to be confused.

“Huh?”

“Who has the other one?” he said, voice a bit harsher than before, motioning to the gold ring around your finger.

“His name is Jordan.”

“Jordan, huh?”

“Yep.”

“What does he do?” Spencer inquired.

“He’s also a lawyer. We actually met in law school,” you answered somewhat hesitant. You still didn’t know what he was getting at, if anything.

“Oh. Nice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” your attitude starting to flare up.

“Absolutely nothing. Just not what I thought,” he stated with a bit of an edge to his voice.

“What did you think?” You were trying not to get offended by whatever he was implying, but you couldn’t help it. He asks me to catch up just to make passive aggressive criticisms?

“I don’t know. Not that, I guess.”

At this point, you wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. “Well, you know, you could have changed that,” you replied in the same passive aggressive manner.

“What would you have wanted me to do?” his voice was raising, obviously picking up on what you were putting down.

“Uh, I don’t know, how about respond to one goddamned text?”

“I tried.”

“Not really. And then you just went dark,” you spat.

“You seemed to be fine with that. You moved on pretty quickly,” he hissed, not even bothering to look at you.

“Why do you think that is, genius? I visited you, and then you stopped answering my calls. You stopped responding to my texts. I basically never heard from you again, and then the next thing I know, your showing up on my fucking tv, in California for a case, and you don’t even reach out. You didn’t even ask to meet up anywhere, not even stop by to say hey. Nothing. You did nothing once your job swallowed you up whole. I know what that’s like and it’s hard, believe me, I’m a lawyer for Chrissake, but I found the time. Plus, for all I knew, you had already found someone else, so I wasn’t going to wait around for the guy who seemed to love me much less than I loved him.” By the end, you were yelling, and thanking the stars above you that no one was around to hear it.

“You’re right,” he whispered after a while.

You were stunned, and could only manage a small, “What?”

“You’re right,” he repeated. “I should have put in more effort. I don’t know, (y/n), I wish I had a better answer for you but I don’t. I was young, and stupid, and I didn’t know what I was doing. I let my insecurities get in the way of us, and I will never be able to forgive myself for that.”

“What?” It was seriously the only thing going through your mind, however, you were able to force out, “Insecurities?”

“Yeah. I was worried that because I was away, you were going to tire of me, that you weren’t going to want to stay in a relationship. I thought that maybe, by being ‘tied’ to me, so to speak, that I was holding you back, which we promised each other we would never do. We said that we would never get in the way of the other’s dream, and I wondered if maybe I was going to do that to you. I just … I had all of these doubts, so I panicked. I stopped responding. And I was so wrong to do that.”

Now that he’d said them, they sounded like some of the same doubts he expressed to you the night before he left.

“What time is your flight?”

“Seven, which means I have to be there by six, which means I have to be leaving here by four-thirty at the latest,” he recited. He had all of his stuff piled by the door, which was hardly anything at all. You were in his hotel room because his house was soon to be taken over by a young couple, since he’d be living in Massachusetts, and his mother was in a mental facility. You’d just come back from visiting her, which left Spencer in tears.

You ate dinner while playing chess, which he effectively beat you at. You were actually pretty good at it, but no match for his math-based brain. You snuggled into bed next to him, willing yourself to keep it together because the last thing you wanted to do was spend your last night with him an emotional wreck. He queued up a movie, but neither of you paid any attention to it. His arm was draped around your shoulders and yours were clasped around his waist.

Spencer’s hand lazily circled your back until it moved with purpose down to your thigh. He continued his lazy patterns when you looked up at him, a question in your eyes.

You’d been with Spencer for over a year, and recalled your first time. You were ready before he was, which came as no surprise, but that didn’t stop the nerves from racing through your head. But if you thought you were nervous, you had no idea what was going through Spencer’s head. He later told you that he was absolutely terrified because he didn’t want to do something wrong, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and he didn’t want you to think less of him because of his body style, and a million other things that he was scared about. That’s how you accidentally said the ‘L’ word. “Spencer Reid, I would never judge you and you could never scare me away. I love you and your body and your brain, and you are not going to do something wrong, not like I’d know because we are both new to this and are doing it together. Understand?”

He gave you a shy smile. “I do.”

Now though, it was very different. Comfortable, confident, safe.

“Can I have you?” he asked, “All of you, one last time?”

You leaned up to kiss him, and he sighed when you pulled away. You looked him straight in the eyes, “I’m all yours.”

And you were. You felt like you always had been and probably always would be, and could only hope that he felt a fraction of the same. Your bodies pushed and pulled in perfect unison, fitting together as if you were two pieces of a puzzle, specifically crafted for the other.

You returned to your curled up position beside him, and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. The tears silently flowed out of your eyes, but you couldn’t make yourself peel your arms away from him long enough to wipe them away. You attempted to sob without making a sound, knowing that if Spencer saw you crying, it would make him cry, and he couldn’t cry because it would make you cry more, splitting you right in half. It didn’t matter how quiet you were being about it, because when you looked up at Spencer, you saw the same silent tears glistening on his cheeks. It was only then that you pulled your hands from around him and brushed away his tears.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring the mood down,” you apologized. “This is supposed to be exciting. You’re going to the best school in the country to get your PhD.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, moving his hands up and down your arms, “Sometimes, I wonder if I’m making the right decision.”

This took you by surprise. He’d always seemed confident about this, passionate about furthering his education. “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t want to complicate things for anyone. For my mother. For you.”

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” You knew it was unfair, but it was the only thing you could think to say. The only thing you wanted to say. You needed him, and it was sickening wondering if soon, he might not need you. He stared at you dumbfoundedly, so you quickly covered it up with, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. You are about to start a whole new part of your life, and you should go, pursue your dreams with the best education this country can offer. I don’t wanna get in the way of that.”

You repositioned yourself back on his chest, and started to drift off to sleep when you felt him sigh. You lazily peered up at him, meeting his restless eyes. “Spence, you need to sleep.”

“I can sleep on the plane. I need this more,” he said, smiling at you. You tried to stay awake like you knew Spencer would, but to no avail. You did, however, wake up to him getting ready to leave. He kissed you goodbye, and you held yourself together until he’d walked out, the door shutting with a definite ‘click.’

All the air had been stripped from your lungs and you felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you’d never again without him by your side. You cried yourself back to sleep, willing this all to be one giant nightmare, but when you woke, he was gone. And you felt completely numb. So while you may have been two pieces of a puzzle, aiming to create the same beautiful picture, you no longer fit together.

You felt yourself starting to get flushed from constantly going in and out of anger then feeling bad and forgiving. It was exhausting, and probably part of the reason things didn’t work out between the two of you. That didn’t mean you loved him any less, though. He was, in fact, your first love, and you guess people were right about that stuff being more powerful and affecting you longer. Hell, you walked into the precinct for a total of three seconds before he was affecting you all over again!

You took a deep breath in before saying, “I guess we both made mistakes and wished we would have handled things differently.”

“What would you have handled differently?” He sounded genuinely curious.

“When I saw that you were in California for a case, instead of … doing what I did, I should have been the one who reached out. I could have just asked you then what was going through your mind and what was going on between us. Who knows how that might have changed things? But, I was petty,” you gave a cold laugh, “I guess I still am sometimes, huh?”

You had definitely been acting that way lately. You felt guilty and ashamed about it, but in that moment of anger four years ago, knowing that Spencer was out there ignoring you, you sent him a hurtful message and then blocked his number. Only a week or so prior, you’d met Jordan who was clearly hitting on you, and you were so firm about moving on that you asked him out. He eagerly agreed, and the rest was history. Or, at least, you thought was history.

Spencer shrugged and dodged the somewhat rhetorical question. “We can’t really dwell on that now.”

You knew he didn’t really mean that, considering he was the type of person who dwelled, but he was right. You were engaged to a great guy and soon to be married. This, Spencer, was something you were just going to have to come to terms with, something you realized you hadn’t come to terms with yet.

You’d been walking so absentmindedly next to him that you hardly noticed you were outside of a hotel. He stopped just outside the lobby entrance and turned to face you.

“Walk you to your room?” you offered. What the fuck did you just say? Why did you say that? You can’t say things like that. Stop it.

Spencer gave you that small, closed lip smile of his which immediately ended your inner scolding, and nodded, holding the door open for you. You walked up the stairs together in silence. When you reached his door, instead of getting out his card, he leaned his back up against the heavy wood.

“Alright, well, it was nice catching up, and I wish you safe travels in the morning,” you said, turning to leave. He quickly reached out and grabbed your hand, stopping you in your tracks, and you spun around to face him.

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” Those words pierced through your ears, ringing all too familiar from when it was you who said them.

“Spence-” you started. And then his lips were on yours. Those sweet, soft lips. It had always been so natural between the two of you, and you felt his tongue bypass yours as you pushed further into the kiss. Then you remembered where, and when, you were, no longer that hopelessly devoted kid but an adult with a wonderful man waiting for you when you got home. You pulled away. “Spence-”

“I would have said yes, you know,” he confessed. The question must have been etched on your face, because he continued, “When you asked me that night, given the chance, I would have said yes.”

His words stung, and your whole body ached from rehashing old feelings, to igniting new ones, to the guilt of what just happened weighing on you so heavily you might just crumble beneath it. You murmured out, “Why didn’t you?”

“I thought you were right. I thought I was doing the right thing. Out of all the mistakes I’ve made, all the regrets I have, you, (y/n) (y/l/n), are my biggest one.” His honey brown eyes peered right into yours, like he was looking at something far greater than just your eyes, and repeated, “So right now, if I asked you to stay with me, would you?”

It was too much to handle. After all the time you’d spent wishing he was still yours, he finally could be, but you could no longer be his. Tears were streaming down your face as they once did, the first time you lost him, and you choked out, “I can’t.”

One More Night

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years ago

Text

Catching Rain

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue

The theatre was loud, opposite of its normally hushed nature. People were yelling back and forth, saws and drills screeching as they tore through wood. In the background, sewing machines could be heard, along with the occasional curse as the needle got stuck in the fabric. One person, however, was quiet, focused. The paintbrush in his hand was small. The hairs tightly pressed together in order to create the perfect details on the backdrop. Erik was hunched over, sitting cross-legged on the stage floor as he squinted at the distant forest he was perfecting. Setting your bag down in the second row, you headed up the stage stairs.

“Hey,” you said softly in order not to scare him.

Blinking, he turned around. His glasses were on the very tip of his nose, having slipped from the slight bit of sweat that had conjured on his face from the glaring stage lights. With a green speckled finger, he pushed the frame back up to its proper position. “Hey! I thought you had a project?”

You shrugged. “I did, but… I kind of hit a wall and needed to give my brain a rest. I’m sorry, I guess I should have gotten lunch with you anyway.”

“That’s alright. If you want, I still have half of my sandwich left.”

Smiling, you ruffled his hair. “Thanks, I’m not really hungry.” Minseok’s dismissive response had ruined the idea of food for you. Later you knew you would be starving, but right now food sounded like a great way to churn your stomach and see what it had been brewing all morning. “I’m just going to go hang out in the seats, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “No one will bother you or question it. Not that anyone would notice in the first place.”

“It’s pretty crazy around here, isn’t it?”

“You missed the big explosion when Dorothy couldn’t find the armchair for the second act. Turns out, someone just leaned a piece of wood for the set against it and hid it from view. Still took us half an hour to find it.”

You snorted. “Wow. I’m actually kind of sad I missed that.” You kissed his cheek, careful to avoid a smear that you were sure he had no clue about. That stupid guilt knocked once again.

The seat was only slightly comfortable, the cushion long ago worn down from a thousand performances. You stewed there in the second row. Though it wasn’t appropriate during shows, you didn’t think anyone would care if you set your feet on the seat in front of you. Folding nearly in half, you hid your face from those who might look your way as you cranked the handle to get the gears in your head to turn.

Confusion seemed like too weak a word to describe what was going on in your head. You were angry, frustrated, sad, relieved. There had to be some language in the world that tied those emotions all together. You just didn’t know it. Perhaps that one word could be the pill you needed to no longer feel this way. If you could shove all of that into a single box, you would be fine. But is it ever that simple? When you closed your eyes and tried not to think of anything in particular, Minseok’s face faded into view. You’d shake your head to drive the image away. It came back anyway.

You felt powerless against this unseen pull, this innate desire to see him again, even after what had just happened in the courtyard. Your mind made excuses, told you that if you simply asked him to explain then he would. Looking up at Erik, you sighed.

There was no comparison because they were two different people. Erik was the sensitive artist, the kind who went to coffee shops on Friday nights to hear a mediocre guitar player sing his “poetry” because he believed everyone deserved an audience. Minseok, on the other hand, was a strange combination of math lab nerd and soccer team captain. He was goofy and dorky, easily amused by corny jokes, but also had the physique of someone who ran five miles in the A.M. for the fun of it. What you couldn’t figure out was what drew you to him in the first place. In any normal, not-already-dating-someone situation, you wouldn’t have been interested in his type. Yet, it was almost… effortless, being around him. Even after all these years, you sometimes had to force yourself into conversation with Erik. Comfortable silences didn’t exactly exist in your relationship, but you always chalked that up to your own personality. Now you wondered if those moments would be better with Minseok.

Was this a normal thing? You heard stories of college sweethearts all the time and for the last few years, you thought you and Erik would join that club. You hadn’t thought about marriage, per se, but you hadn’t seen an end either. The idea of coming to a fork in the road had never occurred to you. While logic and third party advice you’d casually picked up over your life told you to stick to the left, you were being drawn to the right. One road you could easily see where it led, signs, clear pastures, and everything. The other way wasn’t as clear, disappearing into thick woods that were both inviting and foreboding. You didn’t know if there was another side for the road to come out to. The only way you would ever find out would be to follow it.

You were able to sit there in that second row seat for a few hours, surprisingly, with your phone and the internet as your companion. Only occasionally would you contemplate that fork again. Left, right, left, right. Easy, hard, easy, hard. In the end, you decided you needed to see Minseok again to really decide.

The stage manager called it quits late in the afternoon. Erik washed up his brushes and came to meet you. “Hungry yet?” You nodded, more for something else to do before you were alone again. “Good. I’m starving.” Taking your bag like the gentleman that he was, he waited for you to stand up and then walked you out of the theatre.

Dinner ended up being a small burger joint that Erik had been craving all day. You gave no complaints as you started salivating at the thought of their fries. Surely they had to have some sort of secret, addictive ingredient to make fried potato sticks so incredibly delicious. The two of you ended up splitting a large basket of the side. It stayed equally in the middle of the table so no one could say that the other was hogging. Yes. Safe. Easy. Seeable.

Erik offered a follow up to dinner, but you feigned exhaustion (though there might not have been any faking truthfully, as your mind was tired from constantly running throughout the day). He walked you all the way to the door of your room. As usual, he told you goodnight and leaned in for a kiss. But unlike your normal anticipation, you flinched back to avoid his lips. He stared at you in confusion. Clearing your throat, you made it up to him by kissing his cheek before running for cover in your dorm. From the light of the hallway, you could see that Erik stood on the other side for a few seconds, hesitating to understand what had just happened, before finally walking away.

Teeth clenched down on your bottom lip, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket. Thankfully, Willa was still out so you were alone. The glare of your phone burned in the darkness. You squinted as you moved your thumb across the screen, unlocking it before opening the contacts. The number you wanted was easy enough to find. The pad of your thumb hovered over the little green phone. It accepted the slightest touch and switched over to calling mode. You placed the speaker to your ear.

Rrriiinggg. Rrriiinnngggg.

“Hello?”

You sucked in air. He’d answered. You didn’t have a plan for this. You didn’t have any sort of plan after pressing call. You’d hoped that he was one of those people who didn’t have a voicemail set up.

“Hello? (y/n)?”

You hung up.

Minseok watched you stalk off in the exact direction he wished you hadn’t. Anywhere else; he would have been fine with you going anywhere besides the theatre where your boyfriend was. His wolf growled and clawed with jealousy. Why was he so stupid? Since when was keeping his mate a secret more important than being with you? Of course he wanted to eat lunch with you, to see how you got along with his brothers. But the idea of Baekhyun figuring it out had caused him to panic. As obnoxious as Baekhyun could be, he wasn’t stupid. At some point during the meal, Minseok would have done something a little overprotective and Baekhyun would have started to connect the dots. Unfortunately, he’d already picked up on something.

“Oooo, breaking the rules, are we?” The brat even had the audacity to wiggle his eyebrows at the eldest wolf.

Not holding back, Minseok swung, hitting a good target on the upper arm.

“Ow!”

“First, it's not a rule,” Minseok grumbled. “Junmyeon simply suggested that we don’t date. Besides, you’re one to talk. How’s Daisy?”

Baekhyun was hardly phased. He sported a cheeky grin. “She’s great.”

Bored, Sehun asked, “Can we just go eat now? Who cares who Minseok was flirting with?”

“I wasn’t flirting with her!” Minseok shouted. He explained in a lower voice, “She’s having trouble in her math class so I’m doing Sungkyu a favor and helping her out so she can pass. That’s it.”

“So why didn’t you want her to eat with us, then?” Jongin asked innocently.

Minseok flinched. Jongin was more observant than anyone would give him credit for. Not that Minseok was subtle in any sense of the word. “I didn’t say that I didn’t want her to eat with us. Knowing you all, you would have let something slip about what we are.”

“Minseok, we all caught that she was willing to join us,” Chanyeol said.

Huffing, Minseok grumbled, “Are we going to go eat or should I just go by myself?”

Shrugging off the odd behavior, Baekhyun turned and headed for the parking lot. Minseok was quick to follow, feeling smaller than normal surrounded by his pack members. In his head, he pictured himself running back towards the theatre, bursting through the doors, and - in true dramatic fashion - declaring you his.

That would be a complete disaster. He should only do that if he wanted you to never talk to him ever again.

Minseok hardly paid attention as Chanyeol drove them to his favorite pizza place. He was in a trance as the others took control of what to order. Physically, he sat in the booth next to Sehun with Baekhyun on the other side. His shoulder was pressed into the chipped wooden guard rail that ran along the wall but he hardly noticed the uncomfortable poke in his skin. His mind was still back at the campus. He was driving himself crazy trying to figure out how he was going to make this up to you, how he was going to explain his bizarre switch up to you. He hardly ate, which was fine since the others were more than happy to devour the three large pizzas with varying toppings. The others weren’t bothered by his quietness since it was nothing new. Minseok was always more of an observer than a participant. In a time like this, it worked to his advantage.

There was no consulting Minseok when the lunch was through. They all simply piled back into the car and headed out of town towards the woods. Vague mentions of going for a run were tossed around. Minseok didn’t voice any sort of agreement. He wasn’t in the mood. Ha. A wolf not in the mood to run wild among the trees? He really was turned upside down because of you. While the younger ones headed straight for the trees, Minseok headed up the porch and through the front living room until he came to the kitchen. Oh, thank god. There were still beers in the fridge. He grabbed one and immediately opened it, still chugging as he walked over to the breakfast booth.

“Did you have fun?”

Junmyeon slid into the booth across from him. Minseok put the can down. “Yeah. At first. We had fun with the project. It was when the others showed up that things… went bad.”

“What do you mean?” Junmyeon asked with a frown.

“I… panicked. The others invited her to join us and I….” Minseok shrugged.

“Worried that the others would figure it out?” Junmyeon guessed. The response was a nod.

“Figure what out?”

Shit.

Baekhyun stood in the entryway, looking back and forth between the eldest and the alpha. Minseok gulped. He thought that all four of them had gone out on a run and he hadn’t heard anyone else in the house. Stepping further into the kitchen, Baekhyun asked again, “Figure what out?”

Minseok looked to Junmyeon for help. None was to be found.

“You should probably tell them.”

“I’m not going to tell just Baekhyun so he can go running and tell the others and exaggerate.”

“I can always call a family meeting.”

“I don’t want to make that big of a deal out of it.”

“Too late on that. Besides, that’s the best way to get everyone here. Get it out of the way.”

“Or to get none of them here.”

“I’m still standing here,” Baekhyun scoffed.

Minseok looked at him. “I know.”

Junmyeon sighed. “Baekhyun, will you go get the others? Tell them it's important?”

He nodded. “Sure. Be back in a flash.” He left, already shedding the hoodie over his head.

Slumping down in the booth, Minseok felt defeated. Junmyeon sensed this immediately. “It really won’t be that bad. And they need to be prepared.”

“Prepared?”

“Yes. Once a pack member finds the first mate, the others will slowly start to find their own. It won’t be immediate. It could take years, really. But it’s like a domino effect. They should be aware that it's their turn next.”

It made sense. The pack was always connected, both in mind and in instinct. But it had been just them for so long, the idea of bringing in mates to the fold was odd. Minseok wasn’t sure how the others would react. Fists clenched on the table, he leaned his head down. It took almost half an hour before the rest of the pack came back. Yixing had arrived first, coming back from a lab he was making up from earlier in the week. The rest came into the kitchen ten minutes later. They were knocking into each other as they yanked on shirts and pants.

“Okay, Junmyeon, what’s the emergency?” Jongdae asked, very prepared to be his usual sarcastic, troll self.

But Junmyeon didn’t reply, letting Minseok take the reins instead. Minseok didn't want to do this. He wanted to run, to keep his secret a little while longer while he figured this whole thing out. But Junmyeon was right. It was time.

“(y/n) - the girl that some of you met today… she’s my mate.”

It was pure silence in the kitchen. It was unnatural in this household. The only time it was ever this quiet was when the house was empty.

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae said. “You said… mate? Right?” Minseok nodded. He growled. “Fantastic.”

“You really found your mate, Minseok?” Yixing was more enthusiastic about the news. He looked elated, even. A small smile was creeping up.

Despite the stunned silence, Minseok found Yixing’s energy infectious. “Yeah. I did.”

“Have you told her yet?” Chanyeol asked.

“She has a boyfriend,” Jongin reminded him.

“Oh. Right.”

“I’m working on it,” Minseok said. “I just-” His phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, his eyes widened at the name popping up on the screen. With sixteen eyes on him, he answered, frantic. “Hello?” A gasp on the other end. “Hello? (y/n)?” You didn’t answer. Two seconds ticked by and you ended the call. He stared at his now black screen in shock. Then his brain started again. “I got to go.”

“Was it her?” Junmyeon asked.

“Wait, I have more questions!” Baekhyun whined. Minseok was out of the kitchen in a heartbeat, jumping into his car and flying down the road. He didn’t know if you were hurt or in trouble. Why had you called him? Why didn’t you say anything? He was determined to find out. There was only one problem.

He didn’t know your dorm number.

You’d briefly mentioned the shared campus housing with your best friend, but that was all the information he had. Looks like he would have to find it the old fashion way.

Asking.

As soon as he parked, he headed towards the dorms, thankful at least that the two large housing buildings were close in proximity. He headed for the smaller cafeteria located in the lobby of the first building. The kitchen was closed but there were still students taking advantage of the open seating. Okay. Here it goes.

The first few groups that Minseok asked had never heard of you. He was starting to berate himself on what a stupid idea this was. He should have called you back and asked you to call him when you were ready because it most certainly would have gone to voicemail. But his luck soon turned around. He approached a group of three girls sitting in a corner. One of them had a camera.

“Excuse me?” They looked up. Minseok cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, but I’m trying to find (y/n) (l/n)’s room. Do you happen to know her?”

One girl narrowed her eyes. “Why do you want to know?”

Minseok swallowed. “I… I have her notebook. She’d left it behind earlier at study group. She really needs it for class on Monday but I can’t get a hold of her.” Please believe his stupid lie.

The girl who’d spoken made eye contact with her two friends. “She’s in room twenty-three-nineteen. If she doesn’t answer, just slide the notebook under the door.”

He could almost jump from elated joy. “Thank you!”

Taking off, he headed for the stairs. Your dorm room was only on the second floor so it didn’t take long to follow the signs until he was right outside your door. Only now did the possibility that your roommate would be the one to answer cross his mind. What lie would he have to come up with then? He had to take the chance.

After knocking, he waited, shifting from foot to foot in an attempt to release the nervous energy surging through his body. The door swung open.

It was you. Thank goodness.

You were not the same level of relieved. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Crap. He probably should have thought of that. “You called me.”

You looked back over your shoulder before stepping out into the hallway, letting the door shut behind you. “So? That doesn’t mean you can just show up here!”

“I need to talk to you.”

You licked your lips. No, please don’t do that. It’s too tempting already to grab your face and kiss you against the door. Without speaking, you went back into your room. Well, that was a bust. But before he could walk away with slumped shoulders, you came back, this time with shoes on and your bag. “Let’s go.”

He gave no protest as you led him out of the dorm and into the dark. He had no idea where the two of you were headed, but he planned on embracing whatever came his way. The two of you were going to talk. His heart was thumping hard against his sternum. He was getting more alone time with you. Who knew what would end up flying out of his mouth in these next few hours. Would this be the night of truths and revelations?

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #minseok x reader #kim minseok #xiumin #exo werewolf au #exo werewolf!au #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo supernatural au #exo series #The Untamed Universe #Catching Rain

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isolemnlyswearpevensie · 4 years ago

Text

Lightning in a Bottle | Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Warnings: None :)

Time/Era: Modern AU

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Music is Edmund’s love language, apparently.

Request: Hey! Could you possibly do a cute high school au with Edmund? Maybe they’re both crushing on each other and everyone knows except themselves, anything you wanna do really haha 😂 thanksss :)

A/N: Thanks for the request!! God, I love Edmund so much. And here, we have indie boi Ed. This oneshot is inspired by Electric Love by Børns. (Specifically, the video linked) This is one of my favorite songs, and I thought it fit the indie-main-character-high-school vibe :) I didn’t really nail the “everyone knows but them” thing, but still crushes! Enjoy ~

masterlist | here is a playlist of the songs in the mixtape mentioned | read on ao3

Edmund Pevensie was obsessed with listening to music, particularly with old musical technology. While it wasn’t uncommon to have a fascination with cassette tapes or vinyl records, it hit a special chord within Edmund’s heart. Something about listening to music, old and new, on the outdated tech made the music sound better, hit harder, and stick in his mind better. He was the type of guy who took the AUX on long car rides to play one of his thousand Spotify playlists.

Another notable thing about Edmund was that he was very intelligent with very high standards for himself. He was a natural at academics, having been in advanced classes since he was young, and he was the guy everyone hated in math class. After dozing off in class, and mouthing off to the teacher every now and again, he still came out as the teacher’s favorite and a straight-A student.

The majority of the time, though, he tended to keep to himself. While he was genuinely liked by his peers and was rather charming, he didn’t really consider anyone his friend. Unlike his older brother, Peter, he liked to remain closer to the shadows with earbuds in his ears. He knew he could never fill his brother’s shoes; Peter had basically come into Cair Paravel High School to be captain of the soccer team. He was so good that even though his grades were subpar at best, he received a full-ride scholarship to Archenland University to study sports medicine and play on their soccer team.

Then there was his older sister, Susan, who won her Student Body President campaign by a landslide. Everyone liked Susan; she was patient, gentle, and got along with pretty much everyone. She too got a pretty large scholarship to Beruna State College and is double majoring in child education and European history.

Finally, there was Edmund’s little sister, Lucy. She was only a freshman at Cair Paravel, and very into student council. Edmund thought she was practically made to be an ASB kid; she was excited, friendly, and much too kind. Lucy made the switch to high school seamlessly and had a big group of friends by the time the final bell rang on the first day.

Edmund was a senior now and he couldn’t wait to get out of high school. The people were unintelligent, he was constantly compared to his siblings and he was ready to start his life. Edmund had high ambitions to become a lawyer, specifically criminal law. He didn’t really have much to leave behind at this school, so he was just trying to get through it as soon as possible.

One thing he would miss was the quiet girl that sat behind him in his music appreciation class. Edmund didn’t really want to take the class, but at the last minute, he discovered he needed to fulfill an arts credit to graduate. He appreciated music and liked easy classes, so he chose this one. Little did he know it was mostly analyzing classical pieces.

Y/N was super cute in Edmund’s eyes. She always mumbled sarcastic comments whenever their easily excitable teacher, Mr. Tumnus, would stretch when over-analyzing a stanza of music. By the time October passed, Edmund had grown quite fond of the girl. She almost always was reading a comic book of some sort instead of paying attention in class. Y/N even ended up lending Edmund a few for his viewing pleasures; he always made sure to return them in the exact condition he received them. Batman seemed to Y/N’s favorite.

Y/N loved watching Edmund write. He held his pencil wrong and always had ink smudged all over his hand. Maybe it was because he was a leftie, or maybe it was because he wrote too fast. Probably a little bit of both. His handwriting was also weirdly slanted to the right, which didn’t make any sense to Y/N. He was left-handed but his letters slanted to the right? Not the mention how half of it was in cursive and half of it was in print. It was definitely messy but, oddly enough, still intelligible.

“What are you listening to?” Y/N asked Edmund. “Better not be Christmas music. Christmas was last month.”

Edmund pulled an earbud out of his left ear and turned so he was sitting horizontally in his chair. He leaned an arm on the top of her desk and grinned. “Currently, I’m listening to Can I Call You Tonight? By Dayglow. What are you reading?”

“Currently, I’m reading Volume 1 of The New Teen Titans,” Y/N copied Edmund. “I’ve never heard of Dayglow, are they good?”

Edmund smiled, offering her his earbuds. “Listen and see for yourself.”

As she listened Edmund searched her face for any clue to what she’s thinking. Her face housed a small smile so he concluded that she enjoyed it. Once the song ended, she took out one of his earbuds and placed it on her desk.

“I like it,” She concluded, listening to the next song.

“Good, so do I. It fits my mood for today.”

“What’s got you so happy today? You have a great way of showing happiness, by the way.” Edmund was dressed in all black with his hood up. Edmund rolled his eyes.

“What I can’t be in a good mood?”

“I never said that, Pevensie. You just look very Edmund-y today.” Y/N pulled the other earbud out of her head and held them out to him.

“No, keep listening. I’ll play some music for you throughout class and maybe you can tell me what you think at the end?” He pulled his hood off of his head and smoothed out his hair. “And what do you mean Edmund-y?”

“I don’t know, all black, hood up, dead look in your eyes.”

“I don’t have a dead look in my eyes!” Y/N giggled at her own joke. “Just for that, I’m going to take this.” He snatched the open comic book that laid open on her desk.

For the remainder of the class, Edmund dictated what Y/N listened to from his phone. He played everything from The Beatles, to The 1975, to COIN, to Duran Duran. Every now and then, Edmund would peek his head back to see her eyes glued to the back of his head. Her body swayed to the music almost lazily, and a smile graced her features. For some reason that made his stomach feel fuzzy.

She returned his earbuds at the end of class, and he returned her comic.

“That was fun,” Y/N complimented, shoving her materials into her bag. “I like the get better song you played.”

“I Wanna Get Better by Bleachers,” Edmund corrected her as they left the classroom. Music Appreciation was the class of the day for them, seeing as they were seniors who left at lunch, so the two started making their way towards the parking lot.

“You have to meet your sister right?” Y/N asks, pulling out her I.D. so she could leave campus. “The really sweet freshman girl? Honestly, you two are so different I wouldn’t have guessed you were siblings.”

“Oh, Lucy, yeah. We grab lunch every Thursday before I drop her back off for the remainder of her classes.” The two showed their I.D.’s to the campus aid and walked into the parking lot.

“That’s sweet. We should grab lunch sometime, or something. It could be fun! We could do our analysis questions about Bach.” Y/N started to walk in the opposite direction and Edmund felt his cheeks warm. Luckily, Y/N’s back was now towards him.

“Yeah, sure. Don Giovanni, right?”

Y/N’s laughter could be heard as she grew further away. “That’s Motzart, Pevensie!”

Edmund shook his head and met Lucy. She was leaning against his car looking bored.

“Who was that? Is that your girlfriend?” Lucy asks, opening the door once Edmund unlocks the car. This made his cheeks flush more.

“No, she’s just the girl that sits behind me in Tumnus,” Edmund puts the key in the ignition and starts the engine.

“Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not, Lucy. It’s just hot in the car, it’s been sitting out here for ages.”

One day in the middle of March when Y/N walked into Music Appreciation, she noticed a small rectangle box on her desk. Upon opening it, she found a cassette and a note. The note looked as if it was typed using a typewriter.

Y/N,

I’m not very good when it comes to words, but I’m good when it comes to music. Hopefully, this says it all. Enjoy, my love.

Side A //

Electric Love / Børns

I Love You So / The Walters

Fallingforyou / The 1975

Your Song / Elton John

Someone To You / BANNERS

Side B //

Babe, Can I Call? / The Hunna

Tonight (I Wish I Was Your Boy) / The 1975

Luv, Hold Me Down / Drowners

love somebody like you / joan

TV Dream / Larkins

Y/N didn’t recognize most of the songs, but just reading the titles made her blush.

“Mr. Tumnus? Did you happen to see who left this on my desk?” She held up the cassette so he could see. He shook his head.

“No, sorry.”

Other students started to trickle in and soon the bell rang, no trace of Edmund. It wasn’t uncommon for him to skip this class, it was basically pointless, but it made Y/N sad every time he wasn’t there.

The door swings open and a drenched Edmund steps into the classroom. Without even looking up, Mr. Tumnus addresses him.

“You’re late again, Mr. Pevensie.”

“Sorry, I got stuck behind a group of Sophmore girls who wouldn’t move.”

“In the rain?” Mr. Tumnus raised an eyebrow.

“No, if it was in the rain I would be wet right now, sir.”

He plopped into his seat and started raking his hands through his wet hair. His cheeks were slightly rosey, as were his nose. His lips were pinker than usual and they stayed slightly parted. Hair stuck to his forehead as he ran his fingers ran through it and the hair on the nape of his neck dripped down his back. Y/N had to stop herself from staring at him with her jaw unhinged.

“What’s that?” He whispered, noticing the open present on Y/N’s desk. He had taken up sitting horizontal in his chair at all times so he could more easily talk to Y/N.

“It’s a mixtape. It was left on my desk when I got here,” Y/N responded and handed him the note. Edmund took it and began to read; his eyes scanned the paper and his lips moved slightly as he read. Y/N couldn’t help her this time, so she allowed herself to stare. His lips were always so pink and so puffy. She fantasized about how soft they must be.

“Wow, looks like someone really likes you,” He comments, placing the paper back on her desk. “Do you have a cassette player?”

Y/N didn’t even consider that. Who the hell has a cassette player in the year 2020? Apparently, her answer was evident on her face, and Edmund chuckles. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a walkman and a pair of earbuds.

“Here, you can have mine. I got a new one last month and I don’t really use this one as much.”

Oh, Edmund has a cassette player in the year 2020.

Y/N smiled, taking the player from his hand. “Thanks, Ed.”

“Wouldn’t want you to miss out on those songs. Whoever made that has good taste, you’re lucky.”

When Y/N got home tonight, she took out her walkman. It sat easily in her palm, just big enough for the cassette to fit inside. On the bottom, “E.P.” was scratched into the plastic. She smiled and put her mixtape inside.

As she listened, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander to Edmund. They had grown much closer in the past few months, even going lengths to hang out outside of school. Y/N learned that not only was Edmund extremely intelligent, but he was the funniest person Y/N had ever met. He always had a sarcastic comeback or joke to offer her, no matter the subject. He had also let many of his walls down, letting Y/N get to know him better. It all felt so comfortable and natural. No longer was he just the cute guy from Music Appreciation, but he was the pain in the ass that Y/N had fallen for. And Y/N had fallen hard.

Against her first impression of the mixtape, Y/N had actually heard all of these songs. After the first day in January, Edmund had lent her his earbuds near-daily and she would listen to whatever he played for her. Her eyes widened.

Why would Edmund carry around a cassette player he didn’t use? And to school for that matter? And the note; it was typed because Edmund had such distinct handwriting! Y/N rewound the cassette and listened to it again. Why didn’t she realize in the moment?

“Hello, Y/N,” Edmund greeted in the parking lot the morning, he happened to park next to Y/N. He gripped the coffee in his hand and got his backpack in the trunk. “How are you on this fine morning?”

“Tired, I stayed up, like, half the night listening to that cassette I got yesterday.” Y/N slung her own backpack over her shoulder. He closed his trunk and locked his car.

“Yeah? And what did you think?” The two started walking towards the building.

“I thought that the songs all sounded oddly familiar.”

Edmund took a long sip of his coffee. “Like you’ve heard them before?”

“Mmhm,” Y/N hummed and walked onto campus. She held one of the straps of her backpack as she walked. “Almost as if this dumbass guy I know played them for me a while back,” Y/N’s voice was teasing and light.

“Yeah? Who is this guy?” Y/N stopped walking and looked up at Edmund.

“Thanks for the mixtape, Ed.”

“Whaaaat...just because this guy has great taste in love songs doesn’t mean it was me. I’m flattered though, really,” Edmund took another long sip of his coffee.

“Oh, what a pity. I actually got excited when I figured out it was you. Considering normal people don’t just carry cassette players in their backpacks. Especially not ones they don’t use anymore.” Y/N’s voice was thick with sarcasm.

“Excited?”

“Yeah. I’ve kinda liked that Edmund guy for a while, but he doesn’t like me back so…”

“You like me back?” Edmund was grinning from ear to ear.

“Yes, babe, I like you back. I have since October since I started letting you borrow my comics,”

Edmund placed his coffee on a bench and pulled Y/N closer to him by the hips.

“October, huh?” Y/N smiled bashfully at Edmund’s tone but nodded.

“What? You’re cute, I couldn’t help myself. Plus, now you make me cute mixtapes.”

Edmund leans down and places his lips against hers. They were just as soft as she had imagined. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers quickly finding the hairs at the nape of his neck. He pulls away and leans his forehead against hers.

“Be my girlfriend, then?”

“You nerd,” Y/N took a small step forwards and pecked his lips again. “I would love to.”

#edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund x reader #edmund pevensie fanfic #edmund pevensie fanfiction #king edmund the just #king edmund #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #the chronicles of narnia fanfic #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #modern au #fluff #c.s. lewis #c. s. lewis #skandar keynes #narnia fanfic #narnia fanfiction

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 3 years ago

Text

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,544 Words

Summary: Twin trouble and the bakusquad plans to take Touya out shopping.

Warnings: Child Abuse Mention, Death Mention, Homophobia Mentions, Cursing, Injury Mention, Immunocompromised Character, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Notes: Touya’s clothes include links to what they look like.

Hair Dye Buddies: Chapter 3

Learning the basics with his new quirk took to him instantly as he used ways he'd used to watch their father train Shoto with his quirks. The snow felt so calm under his fingertips, the naturality of it far better than the fire that he was born with.

By the end of the class, several snowmen and snow angels had been made and he was very proud with his quick advancement. Everyone seemed happy with his quirk and it made him so eager to please them.

"Tomorrow's training will be more fighting with quirks. I need to get you all ready for the upcoming licensing exam." Aizawa told them on their walk back to class. "Yes, you will be included, Touya. I've spoken to Nezu and all you'll need to do is catch yourself up in your studies and your quirk training, which should be no problem given you take to things so easily. Though yours would be temporary." Aizawa told him.

"This doesn't mean you all will be hurrying to spar with each other tonight, I will put you in detention if you do. Touya, you're allowed to tinker around with your quirk under teacher supervision if you want since, even if you've taken hold of it quickly, it's still brand new to you." Aizawa told him.

Of course, Sir." He nodded, trailing with Shoto.

"So you're officially a UA student, Touya." He was giddy, he'd always wanted to attend UA but father forced him into a no-name school with barely any accountability for their students and had even listed him under their mother's maiden name to keep him away.

"How are Fuyumi and Natsuo?" Touya asked abruptly. Shoto looked bewildered at the sudden conversation shift. Then he realized it might be because Shoto was never allowed around them. He might not know their names, even.

"Sorry, I know you're not even that close to them, us three were so clumped together and you were so much later we never actually bonded together as siblings or anything and you were probably forced away once I was gone so you probably never even knew them." Touya sighed.

"Actually, we're pretty close now. I guess we all realized losing you meant we needed to stick together as much as possible. We even have a group chat without dad. We call it the Endeavor Hate Chat." Shoto smiled and Touya laughed.

"Oh, now you have to show me how much you bash the old man. How old's he now, 45, 46?"

"46. Just turned it like two months ago." Touya gave a chuckle.

"Wow, talk about the timing of that stupid deaging. It's the same time in the year too. I'm starting to think someone put a spell on me like Sleeping Beauty. Come back the same age five years later to torment my little brother." Touya teased.

"I'm not so little anymore. I'm a week older than you." Shoto teased back.

"Oh come on, it's not by much!" Touya exclaimed, getting the class to snicker at their petty argument of age.

"Anyway, how are Natsu and Yumi? You never answered." Touya reminded him.

"Well, Fuyumi's a kindergarten teacher's aid, she's got a secret girlfriend or two and a secret boyfriend too. That woman is pulling too many people at this point. I really have tried to get her to talk to a therapist about her mommy and daddy issues but it isn't really working as you can tell. Natsuo is in college still, becoming a nurse. He has a husband now, they eloped not this summer but the summer before. He's really happy. Both are doing okay. Yumi says she wants kids in the future still and I'm hoping Dad doesn't latch onto it and try to pick her a husband or something to keep 'good quirks' in the family."

Touya smiled knowing his now-older siblings were happy in life. It was all he'd hoped they'd get when he was younger, he couldn't believe they got their happy endings despite his lack of involvement.

"Me, though, I'm going to be a hero just to save people. Unlike his goals for me, I want to be a hero that's a good person as well as a good hero so he won't be giving me the title of Number One, he'll be handing his mantle to part of the next generation he didn't make, likely. And he has a rude awakening if he thinks he'll get his grandchildren to succeed him." Shoto smiled deviously.

"Why?" Touya asked.

"Because he doesn't know I'm gay yet and I won't be giving him biological grandchildren. I plan to adopt kids in need instead. The only children he'll have are Fuyumi's and yours." Shoto proudly stated.

"You say this like I'm not gay too. I'm not having kids." Touya cackled.

"Yumi's got a whole next family generation on her hands then. All the boys can now wipe their hands clean of the reproduction process." Shoto was trying hard not to laugh, so was Touya.

"I ain't never seen four straight siblings. Always three of 'em gotta be gay." Midoriya announced, bursting the whole class into laughter besides the grape-looking gremlin.

"Ew, gays!" The juice gremlin exclaimed, interrupting everyone's fun.

"Shut the fuck up, Mineta." Aizawa instructed the grape gremlin.

"Yes, sir." Mineta agreed.

"I'm glad you ended up bonding with them. I remember being so worried when you were born because the three of us had each other and you were five years younger than us. I was always worried you'd never bond with us."

"Well, you guys were triplets. It's a different bond, I guess." Shoto sighed. "I just know that they were devastated when they heard you disappeared. We all thought you'd run away because the old man never said anything about kicking you out. We thought you'd died on the streets. You have a tombstone in Mom's garden still." Shoto told him.

"They always did joke about burying me in the yard." Touya laughed.

"I'm so glad you get another chance at life. Once we're able to tell Natsuo and Fuyumi, they'll be overjoyed." Shoto butted his shoulder with his own.

"I hope they'll be happy." Touya smiled a bit.

The day was easy after that. He wasn't all that behind in his studies, even excelled a English. During a hero lesson, he got sent to Recovery Girl, who tried to figure out the quirk that caused this and how it worked.

They'd ultimately ended up that this was more than likely permanent now that things had changed from how his life had originally went, especially once he told her of Ryuu and the quirk change. Then she forcefully healed the cuts and burns on his hands and arms from Ryuu and sent him back to class for Math.

The school day was over before he knew it and he was following Bakugou back to the dorms and he went to his own room, it was still bare, just a bed and a desk and a television set up in the corner.

"Hey, Cotton Candy, we're going out, you wanna come?" Bakugou asked.

"I'd be in my school uniform. Aren't we not supposed to wear them when we're not on campus?" He asked.

"We're the same size, just take some clothes. Mina wants to go clothes shopping anyway." Bakugou told him.

"Okay, but I don't have any money." Touya reminded him.

"IcyHot already agreed to let you take your dad's credit card. We're buying you clothes whether you like it or not." Bakugou told him, shoving some clothes at him and he fumbled a second but held them while Bakugou closed his door. "Get dressed! We're leaving in like twenty minutes once Pikachu does his makeup."

Touya was grateful Bakugou had handed him black jeans with cuts on the knees and a baggy black sweater with a skull on it, the comfort of it was astronomical. He put back on the black boots he'd shown up to UA in last night and headed out to Mina in the men's hallway, wolf whistling at him and Sero laughing telling him he fit right in.

"Question, does anyone have a mask I can borrow? My immune system is pretty weak, I got a lot of the weaker genetics in the family so I get sick pretty easy."

"Yeah, man, Shoji has a ton of extra masks." Sero told him. Kirishima was already knocking on Shoji's door for him.

"Hey, man, can Touya borrow a mask, his immune system sucks and we're taking him out shopping."

"Sure, I have some smaller ones my sister sent me a while back that don't fit me." Shoji rummaged a moment and then handed Kirishima a few masks with Halloween themed patterns on them. "Have fun out in the world, Touya." Shoji reminded him.

"I will, thank you, Shoji!" Touya smiled brightly at him as he put on the black mask with the orange and yellow jack'o'lantern pattern.

Being handed Endeavor's credit card by Shoto and told to go wild at the mall was like a fever dream when he used to have to ask and beg for months for new things and then he was made to work himself to the bone for it.

Taglist: @lgbtforeverything @rin-tanaka @everythingisstardust

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awanderingdeal · 4 years ago

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5 times a Tremblay sibling kept a secret and 1 time they did not - Sydney

The second part of this fic! And it’s Sydney’s turn. For the record, I know zero about hockey or Canadian prep schools, so despite some research there are probably many inaccuracies in this. Sorry!

CW: Pressure to go to university. Please message me if you would like any content tags added or feel I need to add to this list.

Rating: G

See my masterlist for future and previous chapters

Thank you to @the-mouse-in-a-jumper and @anderperries for betaing this for me :)

And last, but most certainly not least, a massive thank you to @lumosinlove for the creation of the sweater weather universe and the wonderful OC’s (including the Tremblay siblings) within it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sydney felt like she couldn’t breathe as she walked the halls. She was supposed to be heading to math, but her mind was spinning and there was no way she was going to be able focus on derivatives at the moment.

When her coach had sent for her, Sydney had assumed that it was a quick last minute question or update before the game this evening. That had been two class periods ago and she had only just left.

She found her favourite place to sneak an unauthorised break, a quiet corner where there were only bathrooms, and checked her watch as she slid down a wall. In fifteen minutes, the deserted oasis would be a jungle as students rushed to relieve their bladders in between classes. Sydney breathed in and out slowly, trying to control her breathing in the way her yoga teacher always told her to.

She had asked her coach to print out a copy of the email that she had received. The paper it was printed on felt like it had weight. One letter sized piece of paper had never been so heavy.

Coach Figg,

Thank you for sending Sydney's tape. After reviewing it, I would be very interested in coming to see Sydney play in person. I took the liberty of checking your fixtures and noticed you have a game this evening. I am watching another player in your local area this morning and as such, would be available to see Sydney in the evening. Please get back to me as soon as possible to confirm this would be okay.

Ryan Lemont,

Montreal Stars Scout.

As she read the words again, it dawned on Sydney that this was actually real. It was actually happening. She’d dreamed of playing hockey professionally since her first fumbling steps onto the ice. She had to tell her parents.

Of course her parents knew she played hockey. They even knew she planned to continue playing hockey after high school. This prep school; renowned for both its academics and its hockey programme, had been a compromise on the travel hockey that Sydney had wanted to play. It allowed her to play competitively whilst still leaving her eligible for NCAA schools in the US. The fact that she was going to college was assumed.

When she had given her coach permission to send the tape, it had been with the belief that nothing was going to come of it. It would put her on the radar for when she was ready in a few years time.

Sydney wasn’t self-depreciating, she knew that she had talent. A local newspaper had once described her as ‘a budding young talent. Quite the goalkeeper, even at fifteen.’ Scouting started early in hockey. American schools trying to halt young Canadians on their path to junior league hockey, so they could play for their colleges later. She'd spoken to schools and had good feedback. She was confident that she’d play hockey somewhere. This was different though. A professional team. It was too much for her barely 17 year old brain to comprehend.

"Squid?" Logan, her brother, interrupted Sydney's thoughts. "Ca va?" he asked, walking towards her. The students in this school came from all over Canada, and so, despite being in the countryside of Quebec, people usually leaned towards talking in English. Logan clung onto his native language more than most.

"Hey Lo," Sydney smiled up at him. He'd had a growth spurt in the last few months and her baby brother was looking more and more like a man as the days passed. "What are you doing here?"

Logan gestured to the doors further down the corridor, " J'allais aux toilettes," He glanced at Sydney before joining her on the floor, "I could ask you the same. C'est quoi?"

Sydney didn't have time to answer Logan's question about what the paper was before it was being plucked from her hands. His eyes widened more and more as he read.

"Sydney," Logan gasped. "The Stars! What did Papa et Maman say?"

Trust Logan to get to the tricky questions straight away. Sydney played with her lip between her teeth, "I just found out, Lo. I'm still processing."

"What about university? You know Papa will say that you have to go," Logan asked, playing with the edges of the paper.

"Don't do that," Sydney grabbed the letter back, smoothing the wrinkles out. Superstitions were rife in hockey, and she couldn't shake the feeling that if the paper got damaged it would affect her performance tonight. "You think I haven’t considered that?" she whined, pushing her knees up and dropping her head into them before letting out a noise of frustration.

"My sister, playing for the Montreal Stars. That is so cool," Logan said, and Sydney could hear the grin in his voice.

She looked up at him, "Calm down. They haven't even seen me play yet. It could be nothing."

"And it could be everything," Logan argued. "You have to be positive. I'm going to go to Harvard and then I'm going to play for the NHL.” The confidence in the words reminded Sydney of their older sister, Aubrey. Most would have dismissed it as the lofty dream of a fourteen year old, but if anybody was determined enough to make it come true then it was her brother. “Just tell Papa et Maman. They'll come around," Logan continued. There was that confidence again.

Sydney scoffed, "Easy enough for you to say. You could tell them that you had murdered somebody and they would help you cover it up. You're spoiled."

"I can't help being charming," Logan said with a laugh. "Non, mais sérieusement, tell them. Papa is not a tyrant, he wants you to be happy. He just thinks university will give you the best start in life. I’m sure he can be convinced otherwise.”

"When did you get so wise, little brother?" Sydney smiled, pulling Logan close to her side. He pretended to resist for a token few seconds, but he had always been affectionate and soon squirreled in to her. "If you plan on going to Harvard, you should probably stop skipping English"

"I told you..." Logan started, but Sydney waved him off.

"There are three sets of bathrooms between here and your classroom. Trois," Sydney smirked. "You might have the rest of the world wrapped around your little finger, but you forget I know you, Lo."

"You forget I know you, Lo," Logan mocked before his features morphed into a picture of perfect innocence. "You're still going to give me your English notes though, aren't you?"

"More than likely, yeah." Sydney laughed. "Maybe I'm not so immune to those puppy dog eyes after all."

"Thanks, squid, you're the best," Logan hugged her a little tighter. "And you're going to be amazing tonight. Papa et Maman are going to be so proud, I promise."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just remember me when you're hoisting the Stanley cup, eh?" Sydney said, flicking Logan on his forehead.

"Oww, that is assault," Logan whined, rubbing at his brow far more dramatically than warranted, making Sydney snicker. "I think you'll be lifting a cup before me anyway," he added.

"Alright, enough with the sucking up. Class is about to change. Maybe actually go to your next one?" Sydney said, shoving Logan away from her with a grin.

#sydney tremblay #logan tremblay #lumosinlove #university pressure #college pressure #prep school #Sweater Weather #Coast To Coast

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jalapeno-princess · 4 years ago

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All I Need is You

(Guys I miss Mark so fucking much *Cue Tori Vega I think we all miss Mark)

Songwriter Mark X Reader

Genre: Extremely fluffy angst (is that even a thing?)

Word Count: 5.8K

Summary: For all your life, your parents raised you to be the perfect daughter of every parent’s dreams. You did every single thing your parents forced you to do and never did you complain about anything they’d make you do, no matter how badly you wanted to. That all changed the day your path collides with Mark Tuan. After being stripped of your childhood completely in order to be respective and follow your parent’s desires, Mark shows you how beautiful life can be when you do the things you want to. Mark is the breath of fresh air from a life you feel so suffocated in. For the duration of your relationship, you did your best in hiding him from your parents in fear of them disapproving of the older boy. However, once you graduate from college, you decide you are old enough to make your own decisions and you build the courage to introduce your boyfriend to your family. The night starts off without a hitch; everyone seems to really like him up until your mom asks him what he does for a living. That’s when things take a turn for the worst and your mom gives you an ultimatum; to chose between the love of your life and your family.

A/N: Hey guys, so I’ve been wanting to write an imagine based on the song Paris by the chainsmokers for the longest time and here it is. Only when I reached the middle of writing the story did I realize this is the complete opposite of my other story “Second Chances” LOL. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this story (most of it is written in past tense so I hope you don’t get confused).

We were staying in Paris To get away from your parents And I thought, "Wow If I could take this in a shot right now I don't think that we could work this out" Out on the terrace I don't know if it's fair but I thought "How Could I let you fall by yourself While I'm wasted with someone else

"If we go down then we go down together They'll say you could do anything They'll say that I was clever If we go down then we go down together We'll get away with everything Let's show them we are better Let's show them we are better Let's show them we are better

“Hey, everything okay?”

It was currently 2:45 a.m. and normally, you’d be fast asleep right now but you couldn’t help feeling as if the bed grew more spacious and colder than it was when you first went to sleep. Mark was your own personal furnace; the two of you fell asleep pretty early after a long day of sightseeing and an even longer night of love making.

After multiple rounds of his all but gentle kisses on your neck, jaw and chest as he rammed himself in and out of your velvety walls, you both were too tired to get up and clean yourselves off. He immediately pulled you in to his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist while placing his face in the crook of your neck and whispering sweet nothings until his dreams finally took a hold of him. It’s been like this for the last three weeks since you and Mark ran away to Paris in the hopes of hiding from your extremely overprotective and non-understanding parents.

You’d go sight seeing, visit a couple of museums, cute little coffee shops and sometimes you’d even go to a farmer’s market and you’d buy food to make for recipes you and Mark learned while watching whatever they had on television. Almost every single night ended up in sex; on a few occasions, there were drunken stupors where one of you or sometimes even both of you would have a little too much to drink and you’d have wild, kinky sex.

Then there were the days where you’d argue over minuscule and unnecessary things and usually Mark would be the first to give up and apologizing with his head between your thighs. Most of your love making sessions were soft, passionate and very romantic.

To strangers or people who weren’t familiar with him, Mark gave off an intimidating and sometimes standoffish kind of vibe. It was only because he was actually very shy and soft spoken and those who actually knew him were aware of how talkative and outgoing he could be around those he was comfortable with.

Unfortunately, your parents were the kind of people you’d always sought praise from and you’d do whatever you could to make them proud. Ever since you were a little girl, you went along with every command they would give you, you never complained about the clubs they’d put you in or the clothes they had you wear. It wasn’t as if you were the only child, you had three other siblings but since you were the youngest, your parents were a little more strict with you even if you never gave them a reason to question or mistrust you.

It wasn’t until Mark came in to your life that your relationship with your parents took a completely different turn. You’ve known Mark since middle school and although you hardly ever talked to him, you did admire him from afar and you could only wish to build up the courage so that maybe one day, you’d be able to at least say hello.

He was always such a social butterfly and made friends with anybody he’d interact with. All the girls in your grade had a crush on him, but you couldn’t blame them. Not only was he a sight for sore eyes, he was such a free spirit; he had decent grades and not once did the teachers have any problems with him like they did with his friends. But he was never one to genuinely care about his education, and unfortunately that was his downfall.

When you finally entered high school, it’s as if the world felt like it was time for you and Mark to come together and for your two worlds to become one. In your first semester, he was in almost every single one of your classes. You didn’t think you were the smartest person in your grade, but you did pretty well in all the subjects. All those years of long, grueling days of summer school actually paid off. Sometimes, you hated being the youngest.

Your parents expected so much out of you but they never seemed to care about anything that your two older brothers and your older sister did. They all got to join groups, clubs and sports that they genuinely liked whereas you were coerced in to learning how to play the violin and the cello. You were thankful that school was considerably easy for you seeing as how your parents made education your first priority.

While your brothers would play video games and your sister would talk on the phone with her friends, you’d be practicing math problems and read books about the civil war. You didn’t think you got to experience a legitimate childhood you’d witness all your classmates and friends had. For that reason alone, you always felt different from everybody else and it was the reason why you were so hesitant on continuing friendships with the few friends you did have from middle school.

You could never relate to anything they’d talk about; all their favorite movies they’d watch, the latest installment of Grand theft auto that they’d play, going to each other’s houses—you weren’t even allowed to cross the street by yourself let alone go out with your friends. Entering high school by yourself had to be one of the most scariest things you had to go through and because your siblings were at least five years older than you, none of them would be there at least if you needed someone to confide in or run to.

From all the stories you’d hear from each of them, their high school experiences were ones for the books. Both of your brothers joined each and every sport you could think of and your sister was the co-captain of the cheerleading team. She also had a few boyfriends in high school and you felt as if a lot of the mistakes she made were the reasons why your parents took complete control of your life.

It didn’t take long for Mark to acknowledge your existence; in fact, what you didn’t know was that back in middle school, he noticed you even if you didn’t realize it yourself. While all the girls would ogle over him and try to get his attention, he would find himself admiring you from afar.

Mark always thought you were so cute; you were always hesitant to answer the questions your teacher would ask you even if everyone was aware you knew the answer, whenever someone asked you for help you were always so quick to attend to them no matter what they were asking of you and he could never get the way you would blush when you were flustered out of his head.

He had no problem talking with other girls, but he’d become a mess at even just the thought of having to talk to you. Mark was quick to pick up on how you had most of your classes together, and he was going to use this to his advantage. Only a month in to school, both his algebra teacher and his language arts teacher pulled him to the side to tell him that he wasn’t doing too good in their classes. It wasn’t that Mark was purposefully failing his classes in order to get you to tutor him, he never was all that amazing in school to begin with.

High school wasn’t even half as easy as middle school was. Getting anything lower than a C wasn’t going to cut it and now that he had two Ds, he planned on asking you for some help. When Mark did approach you and asked you to help him catch up with a couple of missing assignments and to help teach him some algebra formulas, you had a hard time believing he was even talking to you. In the beginning of your tutoring sessions, he was always quite the gentleman.

He’d give you his full attention, always waited till you were done talking before he’d ask you a question, he’d tell you silly jokes so that it wasn’t always about studying and learning and sometimes he would drop you home after your meetings. It didn’t take long for your tutoring sessions to turn in to something more and only three months after getting to know each other, he asked you to be his girlfriend.

Dating Mark was a dream you never think would become a reality. He was extremely kind hearted and took care of you in ways you didn’t think you’d be able to experience. You were shocked when he confessed that he’s liked you for all these years, and you were quick to admit the same to him. Knowing how your parents could be, you decided to keep your relationship with Mark a secret and he was very understanding about the entire thing.

The two of you would sneak around during and after school for the entirety of your high school years and your love for one another only grew stronger as the time went by. You fell in love with him in tiny little coffee shops, in the back of the library where you’d be making out together when you were supposed to be studying. You’d lie to your parents and say you were preparing for tests and picking up on extra credit when really you’d be lying in the back of Mark’s truck, cuddling in his arms while looking up at the stars.

Mark did a great job at helping you take your mind off of how perfect you were supposed to be. He was the breath of fresh air that you’ve always craved and now that you had him, you didn’t think you would be able to let him go. Ever. He made you feel like a little kid again; you actually got to experience all sorts of things you’ve wanted to do as a child through your relationship. It didn’t take you long to fall in love with him.

Being in love was an indescribable feeling. Every time something good happened to you, he was the first person you wanted to tell and whenever something bad happened, he was the shoulder you wanted to cry on. He always knew the right thing to say; but if there ever was a time he didn’t know how to respond to something, he would just hold you comfortingly while whispering sweet, encouraging words in your ear.

People claimed that perfect people didn’t exist and if that’s the case, then Mark came pretty close. You felt as if he was sent in your life to be your safe haven; your sanity. The burst of color in your world of black and white. He had a habit of telling you he loved you every single day and even if he weren’t to do so, his actions spoke for him. You don’t know how you did it, but you actually did a great job in hiding Mark from your parents for the last few years.

There were times where you did come pretty close to getting caught; whether it was because of how loud you didn’t think you were while talking on the phone with him, or when you’d come back home with swollen lips and tousled hair. It didn’t matter to you though. A part of you was ready for whatever response you’d receive from your parents. Honestly, Mark was the kind of guy you’d bring home to your parents; so you weren’t afraid of the idea of introducing him to your family.

The only thing you were really worried about was what they would say when they were to find out you were hiding a boyfriend from them for over six years. After graduating from high school, both you and Mark went straight in to college. You went in to study criminal law and he had high hopes of becoming an engineer. Three months in to college, Mark decided it wasn’t for him and as his girlfriend, although you were upset at the idea, you supported and trusted his choices.

College wasn’t for everybody. With that being said, it was then that you found out he wanted to become a songwriter. In the few years that you’ve known him for, not once did he ever talk about wanting to write songs. You didn’t think he was passionate about music in general let alone wanting to write music for artists but when he showed you a few of the songs he had wrote, with most of them being about you, you knew he was extremely talented.

Mark always had a way with words and now that you saw them written down on paper, you knew you’d continue to support his dreams and his future endeavors and that you would do anything to help him if he needed it. Before you knew it, four years came and gone and you graduated from college with your bachelor’s degree in criminal justice. It didn’t take too long for law firms to reach out to you with internships and to see if you were interested to work for their companies. Mark was also very successful with his career.

He started off small; he wrote a few things here and there for some up and coming artists but it wasn’t anything too major. No matter how patient he was, there were times he did grow discouraged and felt like giving up but you never allowed him to. You saw how passionate he was about writing. You’d watch him stay up trying to write down any ideas that would pop through his head.

The road to success wasn’t easy, but when he got an offer from a record company to write songs for a popular artist you both listened to, he was extremely over the moon and made sure to let you know your love, your patient, your support and your determination to help him succeed was what kept him going.

The day came where you felt like you were ready to tell your parents about the man you were head over heels in love with and the reaction you got wasn’t one you were expecting. When you brought him over for dinner, both your mother and your sister raved over how good looking he was and your brothers tried their best to come off as the older, overprotective brothers boyfriends wouldn’t want to mess with. But when they heard Mark played fortnite, they were sold.

Even your father took a liking to him once Mark told him his favorite football team were the Patriots. Everything seemed to be going perfectly and you were so upset with yourself for keeping him a secret for so long. It wasn’t until your mother asked him what he did for a living that things only went downhill from there. I’m a songwriter. You could still remember the grave look on your mom’s face and with the way she motioned for you to follow her and your father in to the living room while excusing the three of you from the table, you knew it wasn’t going to be good.

You were angry that she didn’t wait for dinner to be finished or even for Mark to go home before ridiculing him on his career. It was obvious that she wasn’t too happy to hear he was a musician but it didn’t matter what she thought. Hell, you didn’t care about what anyone in your family thought about him. You loved Mark, with every beat of your heart and there was nothing your parents could say or do to change your mind about him.

“You are to break up with that boy immediately.”

Your eyes widened in shock at your mother’s command and for the first time looking her, hell, looking at your parents, you didn’t feel afraid of them. This time, you had something beautiful worth fighting for. This wasn’t something minuscule; it wasn’t something you could just stop like piano lessons or tennis practice. This was an 8 year long relationship she was telling you to end and there was no way you were going to lose against your parents without putting up a fight.

“No.”

The scoff that came from your mother’s throat wasn’t unexpected. This was the first time ever you talked back to either of your parents. This was the first time you actually said the word no in your 23 years of existence and damn, it felt really good.

“Excuse me? Did you just tell your mother no? Y/n, he’s a musician! He will never be able to give you the life you deserve! That is not a career! You’ll be the one having to take care of your entire family, I refuse to let this man ruin your life. You’re going to throw away everything you’ve worked so hard for—for someone whose position in your life isn’t promised. You know better than this, there are plenty more men in the world with better jobs and probably better living situations. Mrs.Choi’s son is a—“

“I don’t give a shit about Mrs.Choi’s son or Mrs.Park’s son or anyone’s damn son for that matter. I love Mark. I am in love with Mark. I only want Mark. Mark is all I need. I don’t care about what his job title is. It makes him happy and he’s pretty fucking amazing at what he does. But like I said, I don’t give a shit what he does for a living. He could be a garbage man and I’d still love him with every fiber of my being because that’s what love is mom. Love is not money, it’s not a big mansion in Beverly Hills with a doctor husband and six cars I will probably never drive. Love is what I feel when I’m with Mark. He takes care of me. He makes me laugh when I’m sad, he makes me smile even in the most inconvenient situations. He does my laundry, cleans our apartment, blow dries my hair when I’m tired, takes me to and pays for all my doctor’s appointments. We’ve been together for almost 8 years and these last 8 years have been the best years of my entire life because of him. The two of you stripped away the entirety of my childhood from me and Mark was the fountain of youth to help me experience actually being a human.” If looks could kill, the glare your mother was sending you would have you six feet under, but you didn’t care.

“I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m grown. I’m an adult for crying out loud you guys can’t tell me what to do anymore. I’m sorry you can’t accept it but I love Mark and I plan on doing so for the rest of my life and there’s nothing either of you can say or do to change my mind.”

“If you leave with him tonight, you are never allowed back in to this house ever again.” The burst of confidence and bravery you had confessing your love for Mark and the fact that you had every intention of staying with him went right out the window at your mother’s ultimatum. Was she really making you choose between your boyfriend and your family? There was no way you could choose between the two of them. Yes, Mark was the best thing that’s ever happened to you. But to lose all contact with your family because your parents were being unfair and irrational with their decision? She didn’t even take the time to listen to your words; did she not care about your health, happiness and well-being? Here was a man putting her youngest daughter on a pedestal, giving her the entire world and more but yet she still couldn’t accept that. You didn’t know the consequences of your next few words, but it wasn’t even a question. “Mark, we’re leaving. Let’s go.”

Your boyfriend came out from the kitchen and you had a feeling he probably heard the entire conversation between you and your parents, but your mind was so focused on leaving before things could get any worse. “Y/n, wait, sweetie think about this—think about what you’re doing—are you really willing to give up your family for a boy?”

“A man—he’s a man and yes—he’s all the family I could ever need. He’s shown me more love and support in our 8 years of being together than either of you did in the last 23 years of my existence. If you were a really family, you’d accept Mark for who he is and what he does and you’d be happy with the fact that he takes such good care of me but no. Your pride, your reputation, your wealth, your social status and your ego are more important than my feelings and what I want. You don’t care about me. You never cared about me you just cared about what others would think about me and I’m sick of it. I’m done. Have a nice rest of your life. Assholes.”

You marched out of the house and a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders. With the rate you were walking, your boyfriend had to practically jog to catch up with you because you were filled with so many different emotions. Anger. Sadness. Grief. But no regret, nor any remorse. You knew you made the right decision in choosing Mark because not only did you choose Mark, you chose yourself. You were no longer going to allow your parents to dictate your life anymore.

“Baby—are you alright?” You gave him a sad smile before stealing a soft kiss from the corner of his mouth.

“Maybe not right now, but I will be. Take me home Mark.” Your siblings tried to get in touch with you for weeks, trying to get you to come back and to talk things out with your parents, but the damage was done. Neither of them were going to accept your relationship. It was a tough pill to swallow, but you accepted it for what it was.

Even if one day they came around and accepted Mark being a songwriter, there was no way you could ever forget the look of disgust on your mom’s face when Mark said what his job was nor could you forget how your dad just stood there and said nothing. It genuinely showed that neither of your parents really cared about you even if you were the star child out of the four of you and that’s what was hurting you the most.

Mark did his best to try and take your mind off what had happened and every time you’d look at him while he was sleeping, while he was cooking the two of you dinner or while the two of you would shower together, you’d see the glint in his eyes as he looked at you like you were one of the seven wonders of the world and you knew you made the right choice. You’d pick him again and again every single time.

He never brought up the fact that your parents didn’t accept his passion but you were sure it must have hurt him. Especially because that’s was caused you to be cut off from your entire family, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t extremely content with your decision. A few weeks ago, Mark got a call from the record company he was working for and gave him the opportunity to travel around Europe to work with a couple of the entertainers there and he didn’t hesitate to ask you to tag along with him.

The adventure started off in Italy, then you found yourselves in London and Greece. Each and every city was more than you could even imagine. The scenery was so beautiful, the food was delicious, the people were so sweet and the fact that you got to experience it all with your soulmate; your favorite person was a feeling you would never be able to fathom in to words.

Paris had to be your favorite place you had visited so far and you were sure it had to deal with the fact that it was the city of love and you were making the most of it with the love of your life by your side. It was currently winter in Paris right now; the temperature only grew colder as the days went by which is why you were shocked to see Mark outside on the balcony in only his underwear, but the sight did make your cheeks pink.

No matter how many times you’ve seen him naked, you always got so shy and flustered. He was freezing cold when you finally found your way behind him, you placed your chin on his shoulder blade and left a soft kiss there while lazily wrapping your arms around his hips. The giggle that fell from your lips at the feeling of your bare chest against his back couldn’t be helped, he was so cold and the frost nipped at your skin.

It took you a few moments to notice the cigarette in his hand and when you did, you grew worried. Mark hated cigarettes. He hated the smell and hated the negative effect they had on people’s bodies. However, you noticed he began smoking them after working with a well-known rapper who claimed that smoking helped him relax. It was a habit you weren’t too fond of; you knew it was probably damaging his lungs and you could taste the ash in his kisses, but you knew something had to be bothering him for him to want to even start smoking so you never tried stopping him.

For the last month, you haven’t seen a pack of cigarettes lying around the place nor did the scent linger on his clothes so you knew there was a chance he stopped. Seeing that ugly death stick in between his fingers made your blood boil; you didn’t want anything happening to his health because of a stupid decision he‘d make whenever he was upset.

“Go back to bed baby. I’ll be there soon, I just needed a little break. I’m fine.” You’ve been with Mark long enough to know when he was lying. You didn’t have to see him; the lack of confidence in his voice and the way he tensed up against your body made it clear that something was indeed on his mind, and there was no way you’d be able to go back to sleep knowing he was overthinking.

“Talk to me Mark. Something is obviously bothering you and I want to be able to help you.” He released a long sigh before putting out the cigarette and turning to face you. His eyes were red and puffy and there were dried tears on his cheeks.

The idea of him crying made your heart hurt; he was always the strong one in your relationship. No matter how rough life would get for him, he never showed that he was having a hard time. He hated burdening other people, especially you. So all his battles, he’d keep to himself. You hated that he never confided in you the way you always seemed to with him. You wanted to be able to help him carry the burden or to help fight the war in his mind that he was battling alone.

“Why did you do it?” You immediately looked at him in confusion. What was he talking about? What did you do that could be causing him so much distress and frustration?

“Mark—“

“You gave up everything to be with me. You’re completely cut off from your parents, you gave up your job at the law firm, you had to sell your car, you left all your friends without any explanation as to why you were leaving—just for me. I can’t give you everything that I want to just yet. I can’t promise to give you a big house, a nice car—we’ve been together for years and I have every intention on marrying you y/n but I can’t afford to buy you the ring of your dreams—I’m honestly nothing. I’m a college dropout trying to become a renowned songwriter y/n. Sure, I’ve been getting quite a few amazing opportunities but it isn’t enough for us to be set for the rest of our lives nor can we really be comfortable. Like your mom said, there are many men out there who’d be able to take care of you in the ways that I can’t. All I can do is love you y/n, and fuck. I love you more than you can even fathom yourself. But you deserve so much more and sometimes love isn’t enough—“

“Do you hear yourself right now? Are you really asking me why I left my life behind to be with you? My family, I love them dearly. But you know how I feel about my parents, how they sheltered me, overprotected me, forced me in to doing things I didn’t want to. They never did care about how I felt; not once did they stop and think maybe they were working me to the bone. I was never happy Mark. Until you came in to my life and I really don’t know what I would do if I were to lose you. I’m assuming you must’ve heard what my mom said and don’t you dare listen or even think what she said was true. You are not nothing Mark. You are so talented, so hardworking, so passionate and dedicated and if anyone deserves the world baby—it’s you. I meant what I said when I told her I couldn’t give less of a shit about any materialistic things. What’s a fucking Porsche going to do for me if my husband neglects me? What’s a big house if the person that I love isn’t there to share it with me?” You brought your hand up to cup his cheek and released a sigh of relief when he leaned in to your palm.

“You and I could live in a fucking box and I wouldn’t care and you wanna know why? Because you’re there. All I need is you. I don’t care where we go, who we meet, how much money we have in our bank accounts; as long as I have you right beside me, I’m not worried about anything. I can get another car Mark, I can find another job, I can make new friends—but there is never going to be another you. So stop beating yourself up about the decisions I made in the last few months. I did it for us. I did it because I love you. I will never love anyone the way I love you. Now get it out of your head that I deserve someone better than you because a man like that doesn’t exist. And yes—your love is enough Mark. It’s all that matters to me. The way you take care of me when I’m sick, or hold me close as we watch a scary movie. The way you take a bite out of my food to make sure it isn’t too hot, although I feel like you use that as an excuse just to try my food. The way you can be so tired, yet you want to sit down and listen to me go on about my day. You love me Mark. You never fail to say it, but it means more to me because you never fail to show it either.” At this point, his tears were flowing steadily from the bird of his eyelids and you found yourself wiping them away every time new tears fell.

“A person’s job title, the amount of education they’ve received, the kind of car they drive and the house they live in; none of that matters babe. I know you probably hear this all the time, but it’s what the inside that matters. Genuinely. All the wealth, the riches, it doesn’t make you better than anyone else. Your personality, your selflessness, your golden heart, your generosity, your patience, the love you never fail to show others, that’s why I fell in love with you. Oh—and your stupidly handsome looks but that’s besides the point. I’d go wherever it is that you’ll go. Whatever you need me to do, or be in order to help you grow as an artist or just a human being in general, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for you Mark Tuan. And one day, when everything works out with your career, we can rub it in my parents faces. No more tears my love. It’s just you and I; and that’s what makes me the most happy. Oh—and I don’t need a big wedding or a huge diamond ring to get me to marry you. You could get me a ring pop for all I care. I just want to be with you. We could honestly elope in one of the hotel’s chapels if that’s what you want.”

He didn’t miss a beat before bringing his hands on either side of your face and roughly connecting your lips together. His mouth was warm and wet against yours, his kisses were rough and needy. It’s as if he was putting everything he wanted to say to you in to the kiss. How grateful he was for you. How much you meant to him. How much he loved you more than his heart could genuinely handle. Mark knew he needed to continue fighting for his dream in order to prove to you that you made the right decision in choosing him. Soon, the atmosphere was filled of sexual tension and it didn’t take too long for you to feel something hard against your thigh.

“I just—I hope—fuck. Thank you baby. I could never thank you enough for everything that you’ve done and continue to do for me. You’re the most ethereal being to walk on this earth you know that. I really, really do not deserve you but I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that I’m sure happy you chose me. Don’t tempt me, I might just go down to the gift shop and get you that ring pop. I love you—so fucking much my beautiful girl. God , only you could make me hard as a rock while I’m in the middle of crying—I know it’s 3 A.M, and I promised I would take you to the Champs-Élysées later on today, but I really want to show you just how grateful I am for you. I also kinda want to solve this problem in my pants and fuck the shit out of you so let’s go baby. You might have to rent a motor chair to get around once I’m done with you.”

#got7 imagines #got7 #got7 mark #mark tuan #mark tuan got7

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outerbankspreferences · 4 years ago

Text

Goodbye Town - Pope Heyward

Warnings: Underage drinking, drugs

Word Count: 2355

A/N: This is based off my favorite song. I thought about writing with JJ but I think it works better this way.

Right there's the high school where we met

We'd sneak out back for a couple kisses and a cigarette

And that parking lot was our first date

And her momma slammed the door when I dropped her off too late

At one point in time, if you asked Pope Heyward who he loved his answer would be Kiara Carrera. He thought the sun set and rose just for her everyday. That was until he met Y/N Y/L/N. He never expected to like anyone beside Kie. Maybe Kiara was out of his league and had a thing for his other friends, but he didn’t care until that day. It was raining outside, he was in class, geometry to specific. His AP class to give him extra credits towards college. When the teacher introduced her, she said her name wrong, but the girl was to polite to say anything. She sat three seats behind him, her yellow backpack hanging off the back of her chair. He knew from that moment on he was in for it. He saw her around school, and talking to other people and finally he saw her talking to his friend John B. His heart dropped knowing he could never compete with someone like him. He thought he lost all chances until he introduced the two of them.

“Hey guys, this is Y/N, she just started in my art class.” John B introduced the blonde girl to everyone. She smiled, with a small blush.

“Are we still skipping last period to go surfing?” Kiara asked the brunette. They had been talking about it all day in the group chat. Something about the waves being supreme for surfing. Pope wanted to go but knew he would get in trouble for ditching again, plus last period was with Y/N and he wasn’t missing that.

Everyone was having their own conversation, while Pope was trying to finish geometry homework from the night before. He had finished JJ’s English assignment knowing he wouldn’t do it. He was lost in his math problems when she spoke to him. “Is that the homework from last night? Man, that was hard, what did you get for question 12?” Pope had to double take. Is she talking to him? “Yeah it-t is. Uh, I got the angle being 43.” “Oh, really how’d you get that I got the angle being 36.” He didn’t know where he got the confidence from but out of no where he spoke up. “I can show you after school if you want, these losers are going to be surfing for a while, and I’m going to need something to do.” She smiled at him. “Of course, that would be great why not by the bench outside, after class?” The rest was history.

They met there all the time, and Pope fell harder and harder for the blonde hair girl. She would smoke a joint, and he would help her with the math. Sometimes she would draw. She was an amazing artist. Always talked about leaving and going west to LA. A pipe dreamed she called it. One day when the sun was setting and they were running late, Pope took a chance and kissed her. It was quick just a few seconds, but she smiled, and kissed him back. He walked her home that night. It was the first time he had ever seen were she lived. He mom was at the door waiting. “I’m sorry for what’s about to happened”, and before he could respond her mom was hollering about how she was running late. Slamming the door in Pope’s face when he tried to take the blame for what happened.

She's gone

Chasing that highway wind

She's gone

She ain't coming back again

This ain't nothing

Nothing but a goodbye town

These streets are only bringing me down

Gotta find a way to finally get out

Out of this goodbye town

As Pope was packing up his things for college, he found her sweater. It was just a little over two months ago when she left. He missed her so much. The way she always smelled like lavender and a hint of weed. They way she was so carefree, something he need to be more of. He was proud of himself for getting into UNC, he didn’t think it would actually happen. He applied for a ton of scholarships and with finical aid it wouldn’t be so bad. He got a job at a restaurant on the mainland. A friend of his dads. He put your sweater in the box of things he still had of yours. Scrunchies, a few bracelets, one of your old sketch books. These things that made his heart hurt, like a hurt he’s never felt. He wonder if you made it out west in the beat up car JJ helped fix for you. When he looked through the sketch book you left at his house and found pictures of buildings around town. Nothing but a goodbye town, he thought.

We sat down on those courthouse steps

Fourth of July those fireworks over our heads

And they'd ring the bells of that little church

No there ain't nowhere I can look that doesn't hurt

She's gone

But I still feel her on my skin

She's gone

But she ain't coming back again

This ain't nothing

Nothing but a goodbye town

These streets are only bringing me down

Gotta find a way to finally get out

Out of this goodbye town

Looking through your sketch book he found one of the courthouse. It was your second fourth of July on the island, the first one you spent not knowing anyone. He smiled thinking back to that day, it was perfect. You guys had spent the night at John B’s place. You lied to your mom saying you were sleeping at Kiara so she wouldn’t get mad. There was a party at the boneyard the night before, and he wanted you to go. When you guys woke up in the morning you were wrapped up in his arms asleep on the couch. He was always the early riser, while you loved to sleep in. He treasured these moments. The way you eyelids flutter from the dream you were having to the small sounds escaping your lips from breathing. Once everyone got around for the day, John B and JJ suggested you go into town and watch the fireworks. It was cold and you forgot you sweater so Pope gave you his.

Watching the fireworks was memorizing to you. You loved all the colours that came from them. Sometimes they would be to loud and you would cover your ears. You split a smoke with JJ before leaving, he claimed it would enhance the experience. It just made them way too loud. Sometimes Pope still feels your breath on his skin. It wasn’t been long since you left but he was regretting everything about this goodbye town.

I can't erase the memories And I can't burn the whole place down No this ain't nothing Nothing but a goodbye town To hell if I'm sticking around Gotta find a way to finally get out Out of this goodbye town Oh yeah Out of this goodbye town I'm out of this town So out of this town Oh oh oh oh oh...

Pope didn’t know if he wanted to remember all the good times you guys had together. He didn’t want to feel the pain anymore. He kept looking back on the day he left you crying in your driveway. The day you guys called it quits. He couldn’t believe he just walked away

~Flashback~

It was the end of the school year, and you guys were getting ready for graduation. Some how you all made it through. JJ finishing with barely enough credits, but with Y/N and Pope’s help they got him through. It was the night after prom, you begged Pope to go with you. Claiming you guys only got one prom and you wanted to spend it with him. He could never say no your pout, it was like magic. So he got all dressed up in tux he borrowed from your brother and you wore a beautiful green dress that Kiara let you borrow. It was magic. You both were going to UNC, of course you were little disappointed, it wasn’t your first choice. You applied for an art school out west but got waitlisted. Of course you were happy to go to them same college as you boyfriend. You guys looked at apartments together, and you even got a job at a local bar. It was a dream come true.

That was until the morning of gradation, your mom stopped to pick the mail up on her way home from your hair appointment. You were causally looking through the bills when you saw it. Your heart stopped, this was the letter you had been waiting for. You ripped it open and started reading, “we would like to congratulate you on your acceptance to the Otis College of Art and Design. You’ve been accepted into this years fall term.” You were freaking out. The first person you wanted to tell was Pope, but that’s when you remembered all the plans you guys made. He couldn’t be mad, could he? He knew this was your dream. When you got to your house he was there waiting for you. His smile made your heart drop. “How can I tell him mom? We made plans, I love him, but this is my dream.” You asked your mom. She looked at you sympathetically. “I know you love him Y/N, but never let a boy stop you from chasing your dreams. Just because you made plans with him, does not mean you have to give up your dreams for his.” She was right, you loved Pope and he will always be your first love but you couldn’t live your life wondering what would have happened if you never left.

Pope opening the door startled you. “Hey I’ve got our gowns and caps. Kie wants us to do pictures at her house, something about it looking nice in her garden. Everyone is meeting there, so go get your dress on.” He looked up at you. He could tell something was off. He knew you like the back of his hand. “What’s wrong Y/N/N?” that’s when he saw the letter. He recognized the LOGO from one of your art books. “Is that a letter from the art school out west? Y/N did you get in?” You could hear the fear in his voice and couldn’t blame him. He knew what was coming. You both did, but nether of you wanted to admit it. “Uh,-yeah-yeah it is. I got accepted. Someone must have dropped out. Crazy right? The school year wasn’t even started yet.” You looked at him and the look in his eyes killed you. “So what, are you going to go? I mean what about us? We made plans Y/N.” “I know that Pope, you don’t think I know that. This is a big deal for me! You know how bad I wanted this. We can make this work, we can do the long distance. No it would be easy, but I don’t want to lose you.” You pleaded with him as he turned away from you. He was so angry with you, changing the plans the two of you made. “No, I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone I don’t get to see. I want you to stay Y/N. It’ selfish of me but I need you here with me.” You couldn’t believe what he was saying to you. “Do you really want me to chose between you and my dream college. Don’t make me do that Pope. Please.” You had tears running down your face at this point. Not caring about your makeup. “Yes, I want you to choose—“Then I choose college.” You said it so fast you didn’t have time to take the words back. He looked at you with anger in his eyes. You’d never seen him mad like this before, of course you guys had disagreements but nothing like this. “Fine then.” And with that the love of your life walked away. Even with you screaming for him to comeback. He didn’t. It broke him, but he knew if he turned around that you would stay with him. And he couldn’t be the one to keep you from chasing your dreams.

~Flashback over~

Pope didn’t like to regret things. He stopped by your house a couple days later, but your mom said that you already moved. Deciding on spend the summer in LA with your aunt to get to know the place better. He knew that was a lie. He knew you left because you could stand to see him. He walked around the town all summer seeing all the places you guys would hang out. The Pouges tried their best to keep his mind off things, as well as his parents. His dad offered to move him to the mainland early, but Pope wasn’t ready yet. JJ agreed to move to the mainland with him, getting a job and going to the community college near the university. It was the small gesture Pope appreciate from his friend. Pope was putting the last of his boxes in the truck, JJ had already moved over a week before starting work. He was finally ready to leave. Leave all the memories the two of you had behind. It was done and, in the past, but he couldn’t help but think about you smoking by the school doing homework. He was ready to leave this goodbye town.

You'll be just a memory in the back of my mind You'll be just a memory yeah Oh, somewhere in the back of my mind In the back of my mind, yeah One day you're gonna look back at what we had You're gonna think of me You're gonna think of me When I'm long gone I'll be long gone

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