#i saw that scan today and i HAD to make some rips. and bc i really enjoy making rips...

[callme-darling]

work tensions

or; you’re a prosecutor working a trial vincent is defending and your colleagues get the feeling there’s some underlying tension between the way you’re at each others throats

word count: 3.3k

warnings: smut, like genuinely filthy shit, fem reader, hate sex (kinda), sex in the workplace (so like semi-public ig), vincent and y/n are rivals/enemies, this actually somewhat has a plot lmao, hellllaaaaa tension, so much teasing, degradation (he say slut once), cocky vincent, begging if you squint, throat holding/light choking, fingering, no protection, p-in-v, not proofread, friendly ending (bc i’m a big softie)

a/n: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY LADIES!!!! hope you enjoy🤍🤍

you were amongst the youngest of the attorneys in the city courthouse. you were fortunate in the opportunities afforded to you, but you also worked your ass off to get where you were today. which is why you, for the life of yourself, can’t understand what the hell you did to earn the contempt of vincent renzi.

from the first time you both stood in the same courtroom, it seemed like his eyes were always set in a hard glare when they saw you. so whose to blame you for reciprocating the hostility? your colleagues usually give you well-intentioned advice to at least talk to him, something you haven’t even done outside of casework. who knows, they’d shrug, maybe it’s just ill-concealed intrigue.

you were young, but you weren’t naive enough to think the esteemed defense attorney didn’t absolutely hate your guts.

some of your colleagues, however, seemed hellbent on taking matters into their own hands after a minor scuffle that left the judge’s office suspended in a tense battle of wills. the case wasn’t even that serious—just a petty case of ‘he-said, she-said’ neighbor dispute. but the simple judge’s meeting quickly fell apart to a dispute that devolved to obviously personal jabs.

when the judge finally had enough, she dismissed both you and vincent from the room with the stern instruction to “talk out whatever issues you two obviously have, and get your shit together”.

you’re on vincent’s heels as he speeds out of the room. as soon as you hear the door click shut behind you, you’re glancing up and down the hallway. vincent runs a hand through his hair, annoyance etched across his features.

“what the hell is your problem?”

you gawk at him, “MY problem?!” you chuckle at his audacity. “you’re the one who started all this-“ you wave your hands in the space between you two like some enigmatic boundary separated you.

his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek, and a roll of his eyes had you seeing red. before you had a chance to properly rip his throat out, an older man poked his head out from another room, face stern as he recommended you find somewhere else to continue whatever dispute you deigned important enough to have a tempermental yelling match in the middle of the office.

with a noise that could only be chalked up at pure irritation, vincent began strutting down the hall. you were quick behind him, wordlessly keeping in step with his long strides. you weren’t done with your conversation, and you’ll be damned if you let him walk away now.

you were in an unfamiliar, and rather desolate, wing of the building when he spun around to face you, his face inches from yours as he ducked down slightly to glare into your eyes. “quit following me like a damn dog!”

your eyes widened before a hard scowl settled on your face. “not until you tell me what your problem with me is.” you fume, “ever since i got here, you have had some personal vendetta against me. you’re going to tell me why.”

his jaw clenched as his eyes scanned your face. “your feelings are hurt because i don’t like you, is that what this is?”

you roll your eyes. “that’s bullshit and we both know it. the truth. now.”

“i need a reason to dislike you?”

“you can make one up for all i care, but i’m tired of your attitude fucking with my job.”

he chuckles dryly, “oh, i see. that’s what this is about.”

your brows scrunch together. at your look of confusion, he takes a step closer, breath fanning your face as he whispers through tight lips, “it’s my attitude fucking with your job, hm? that’s what drives me so fucking crazy- you’re so blind.” he rubs a hand over his mouth, taking a breath before his eyes are hard set on you again. “don’t think i don’t see it—the way you’ve charmed our colleagues, how you bat your pretty little eyes at the judges to get your way-“

you cut him off, disbelief dripping from your words. “excuse me?”

he scoffs, “oh don’t be coy.”

“you know what, vincent,” you clench your fists, nails biting into your palms as they shook, “you can fuck right off.”

you go to turn and walk away, but a thought of venom penetrates your mind and you whip right back around, nearly nose-to-nose as you whisper low, “just say you’re threatened by me next time.”

you watch as something akin to rage flash across vincent’s face. he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but his eyes bore into yours with a silent threat that chills your spine. his tone is low, dangerous. the rasp makes the hair along your arms stand on end. “i suggest you choose your next words wisely, y/n.”

maybe it was your stubbornness, or a fleeting air of confidence, but you hold his stare, your own voice quieter but just as menacing. “vincent renzi is threatened by the fresh-faced competition and can’t stand the thought that i may be the better attorney.” were you being childish in taunting him? yes, probably. but the months of tension were reaching critical mass, and whatever thoughts crossed your mind were being said.

what had just slipped through your lips, though, was definitely the wrong thing to have said.

a hand harshly grips your bicep as he drags you to the nearest room. he flicks on one set of lights and slams the door shut. he’s fuming, you note. however, you don’t fully register just how angry he is.

he’s silent for a pregnant moment, the air suffocating as he watches you with an analytical glare, his body seemed almost animalistic in how he stalked towards with with silent strides. you feel a new form of anxiety quicken your breathing.

he’s close now, so close you can smell his day-old cologne like it were freshly applied. his voice is quiet, but it makes you jolt under his intense gaze. “you want to know why i hate you so much?”

you feel as though you’re trapped in a stupor, your mind dizzy with this newfound suspense. you give him a small nod, not trusting your voice to remain firm in this intensity.

you swear you feel his lips just barely ghost over your cheek as he speaks, nearly growling in your ear. “i hate you because you’re so infuriating.” he pauses. “the way you walk around the courtroom like it’s yours to own, how you always make the most nit-picky points. and what pisses me off the most, is how i’m so attracted to you because of it.”

you were holding your breath. you felt your mind reeling as silence settled over the room. only the sound of your own breathing and the blood rushing through your veins reached your ears as you held vincent’s gaze.

his ferocity seemed to have diminished a fraction, but his jaw remained clenched. words escaped your brain as you tried to wrack together some coherent response, anything to quell the heat burning you from the inside out.

when no such words came, you decided ‘to hell with it’.

your eyes flicked to vincent’s lips, rubbed a pretty red from his hands and teeth. then you looked back into his eyes. an exchange that required no voice.

‘do it then,’ you silently dared. do it.

and so, he did.

his palm was warm on your cheek, fingers wrapping around the back of your head as he crashed his lips to yours. the force of the kiss had you stumbling back before vincent’s other hand caught your hip.

impatient. that was the best word to describe the way vincent kissed you. you tasted his lips on yours, body humming as you become acutely aware just who you’re kissing. and the mere thought has your thighs clenching together.

there was no room to speak with the way his mouth trailed down your chin, dipping into the curve of your neck. a shudder rushes through your muscles when you feel his teeth nip at the skin of your throat, eliciting a soft gasp to fall from your kiss-swollen lips.

you can feel the faint press of a grin to your collarbone. he coaxed your legs to walk back a few steps, securing your body between the table and his own.

his breath was warm as he spoke against your shoulder, “tell me to stop.” the featherlight touch of his fingers sent jolts of electricity through you as they skimmed down your arms and over your waist. “tell me you don’t want this, and i’ll let you walk out that door.”

your lungs burned when you finally released your breath. you could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, and the deep octave of his voice was doing little to soothe it. you were surprised by your own voice’s clarity, “shut up and kiss me again.”

you felt his body melt deeper into yours as your palms pulled him in by the side of his neck. you allowed yourself to be more eager, greedier, as your tongue teased his bottom lip.

he pressed his hips firmly against yours, his rasping moan nearly making you whimper in response. he was breathless when he pulled away. the pad of his thumb stroked your bottom lip, his own shining with a mixture of yours and his spit.

“i’m going to ruin you..” he murmured, leaning down again, his lips brushing over yours as his thumb holds your chin in place.

you prop your hand on the table behind you, not trusting your legs to hold you for much longer. your voice is meeker this time as you whisper against his touch, “you can try.”

vincent kisses you with an assured hunger. his touch dominating as he grips your hips, the fabric of your skirt gradually bunching in his hold. you can sense the apprehension in him, his internal battle of morals. your hand cradles the back of his head, nails stroking his scalp as you use your other to guide his hand under your blouse. blue eyes meet yours as you chide, “you don’t have to play nice with me, vincent.” the lull of his name from your lips paired with the way you brought his palm to grope at your chest, he needed no more convincing.

“such a little fuckin’ minx.” he muttered under his breath. your skirt was bunched up to your waist, your panties shoved down your legs. he had your back flat on the tabletop, hips slotted between your thighs as his eyes raked over you.

you could feel yourself slowly dripping onto the table below you, cheeks flushed with both lust and embarrassment.

vincent smirked. seeing you laid out like this, on display for him has his dick twitching in his pants. he appraised your needy pussy, a tentative two fingers teasing your folds as your thighs trembled. he watched how you grew shy, hand hovering over your mouth as you whine at the fleeting touch.

finally, you feel the pair of fingers slide into your soaking cunt. a whimper escapes you when he’s knuckle-deep in your clenching heat, the palm of his hand grazing your clit.

his gaze is attentive as he makes note of every little reaction you have to each stroke of his fingers. he bites his lip as he witnesses your eyes softly roll back when his fingers find the spot that has your chest heaving and hips shuddering. he leans down so his ear is next to your mouth, intent on hearing every single needy little whine he lures from you. he presses his lips to yours when he feels you creep up to your climax. “are you going to come on my hand?” his eyes find yours, half-lidded and glassy, and the sight alone makes him groan as his cock aches.

“is this all it takes to have you all pretty and compliant?” the teasing lilt in his voice only makes your cunt flutter around his fingers. “not so smart now when i have two fingers in this little pussy of yours, hm?”

you swear you felt like you were going to pass out. the combination of his fingers and palm against your pussy, his degrading mocking, and taunting eyes has you keening under him in a newfound desperation as you teetered precariously on the edge. so, so close to being rendered incoherent with only two fingers.

his touch leaves you.

you whine loudly, pouting as you attempt to catch your stolen breath. you move to sit up, but a large firm hand across your collarbones keeps you sprawled on the table. you squirm under his hold. “vincent.. why?” under any other circumstances, the needy pitch of your voice would’ve made you cringe, but your depravity gave you little to care about aside from satisfying your incessant lust right now.

his voice was sickeningly taunting as he cooed down at you, his other hand brushing the hair from your face. “come on, you have to work for it.”

you could feel that familiar animosity sit on your tongue, but you hold it. though, based on the sly smile looking down at you, you got the sense he could feel it too.

“how ‘bout this..” he sighs instead. his eyes trailed over your face, blue irises harboring a certain warmth that had anticipation swirling in your stomach. “if you say a simple, little sentence, i’ll give you what you want.”

you chew on your bottom lip, mulling over what was no doubt a trap. “what would you have me say?”

the way his smile widened had your pussy clenching around nothing, the cold air making you shiver. “i want you to say: ‘only vincent renzi can make my pussy this wet’.

“oh fuck y-“

his hand catches your jaw before you could finish your crude remark. his fingers lightly dig into your cheeks as he comes nose-to-nose with you. his voice is dangerously low but a softness keeps to the edges. “would you rather me leave you here, like this? your pussy is practically weeping.” as if to reinforce his words, a hand lightly slaps against your folds. the wet sound had your face turning a new shade of red, lips pouting as his other hand still holds your face close to his.

you don’t say anything, internally battling with yourself. the tip of vincent’s tongue pokes out to wet his lips, your eyes following the minute movement with bated breaths. then his soft voice buzzes in your ear. “c’mon.. just say how i make you drip like a needy slut. let me hear that pretty voice of yours, the one you like to use so much.”

you felt a whine croak in your throat as the hand between your thighs gave your clit another tap. “i’ll give you three seconds.” his low tone warned.

“three..”

you felt your breath stutter, eyes searching his. there’s no way he’s serious.

“two..”

he wouldn’t actually leave you like this, would he?”

“on-“

“okay.” you cut him off, words rushed as you grip the wrist of the hand holding your face.

he peers down at you expectantly. the corner of his lips upturned slightly, and you hated how attractive it was.

“only vincent can make me this wet..” he’s never seen you so timid and meek than in that moment, something that only added to the building heat of the room.

“now, was that so hard?” he quirked a brow, fingers playing with your aching cunt as he notes the way your slick soaks his palm. “you’ve done your part, so be a good girl and take what i give you, yeah?”

you nod dumbly as his hand drops from your jaw. your body felt like it was buzzing, heart hammering in your chest as you watched him fumble with his pants, pulling his leather belt off with one hand.

he plants a searing kiss to your lips, a trained dominance permeating his movements. you moan against him, hips twitching as his pants brush against your bare core. a hand slides between your bodies to free his leaking cock from his slacks. you swallow any sounds he makes as his hand strokes his dick a few times. “you got to stay quiet. think you can handle that?”

you ignore the obvious taunt, hand on the back of his neck as you pull at the ends of his hair. “just fuck me already, vince.”

he chuckles dryly, but you sense the anticipation crawling under his skin. next time, you’ll be the one making him beg.

a drawn out gasp fills the room as you feel him slowly begin to sink into your tight heat. fuck, you felt dizzy as your cunt pulsed, sucking him in deeper.

you both moan in with quiet sighs when he bottoms out. he starts slow, but eventually finds a rhythm that has you whining with each thrust, your whimpers gradually growing in volume as his thumb toyed with your sore clit. he curses under his breath, a large hand gripping the sides of your throat.

his voice was labored but firm, “you want the entire firm to hear how you sound with my dick in you? be quiet.” he warns again.

you try, you really do. your hand is over your mouth, eyes watering with unshed tears as his pace quickens. your other hand flies to his shoulder, nails biting into his shirt in a silent plea. his voice floats back to you. “but staying quiet was never your strong suit, was it?”

“fuck, oh shit-“ you whimper, eyes screwing shut when you feel the start of your orgasm wrack through you. “vincent, please, oh-“ your eyes fluttered as his grip around your neck tightened a fraction.

“i told you, you would eventually start begging.”

you can barely hear him over the erratic pulsing in your ears. your entire body tenses, cunt clenching around his dick like a vice. he hisses above you, teeth gritted as he watches you come undone.

he pulls out of you, stroking himself a few more times before he’s coming on your pussy and thighs.

you lay on the table, breathing hard as you come down from the orgasmic high. you stare at vincent who’s already watching you, breaths sharing a calming rhythm. when you feel more like yourself, you start to sit up. he hands you a box of tissues, eyes daring to glance at the mess he made on you.

you attempt to straighten your blouse, the collar of which looks as though it had gone through a windstorm. your eyes scan the floor for your panties.

vincent’s palm offers the small ball of satin into your fingers. your gaze catches his as he suppresses a grin. “wouldn’t want to be caught without these, would you?”

you glare at him, though it’s void of the usual hostility. you finish straightening your clothes, blouse retucked into your smoothed-out skirt. you turn back to vincent who’s been put back together for a couple minutes already, leaning against the wall idly.

your mind screamed at you to fill the silence, to say something to settle the oncoming disquiet.

to your surprise, it was vincent who broke the silence first. “who would have thought that this is something you’re into?” his eyes appraised you again. there was no adversity in his jest, only a gentle prodding.

“you can’t say that like you didn’t just fuck me the same.”

he nods, toothy grin starting to crack through his lips. you can see the way his fingers twitch, itching to hold a cigarette between them.

“want a smoke?” you offer, testing the waters.

his eyes catch yours, and he holds your gaze for a moment. then the first genuine, true smile you’ve seen from him is directed at you.

“i’d like that, yes.”

[icon-transparenting]

Chocobo from Cid and Chocobo’s Mysterious Dungeon: Labyrinth of Forgotten Time DS+ promotional art, scan courtesy of @chocobosmysterydungeon

[uwuwriting]

Breaking in w/ Hawks, Shoto and Dabi

Request: I read another post about ppl breaking in your shared house with the boys not knowing that you are inside and hurting you and I was like well this would be interesting with their kids in the mix. So i'm here to provide you with the following request ppl breaking in and immobilizing you while you're still awake and they try to go into your kids’ room with Shoto, Hawks and maybe Dabi or Aizawa- anonymous 

Oh this is a nice little concept. It's very interesting. I’m happy to deliver. I have been devastated by chapter 290, if anyone hurts Shoto imma start a riot and if Dabi doesn’t kill Endeavor i will. I’m thinking of making a double post today so this one and a kny post but we’ll see. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warning: cursing, mentions of blood, crying but fluff in the end. 

Hawks/Keigo Takami

-You were waiting for Keigo to come home after a long day. 

-The twins were a nightmare to put to bed today and you were exhausted. 

-Both of them wanted Keigo to tuck them in for some weird reason and they just wouldn’t accept your cuddles or attempts. 

-So after a tiresome two hours of trying and failing to calm them down you called your husband on facetime and they went to bed. 

- “I’ll be home soon, do you want me to bring you anything?”

- “No, no just you.” 

-So after taking a shower and checking on the kids you relaxed on the couch, turning on the TV while scrolling though tik tok. 

-Not even half an hour later you heard jiggling coming through the door. 

-Assuming it was Keigo you got up and went to greet him but who you met at the entrance of your house was a complete stranger. 

-You and the two bulgars stared at each other for a solid minute before you scrambled to get to the kids’ room and lock yourself in there. 

-But one of them tackled you to the floor before you could reach the pastel colored door and pinned you down, binding your hands with a cloth. 

- “I thought you said he wasn’t here man? What is this?”

-They had tied your legs to a chair, putting a makeshift gag in your mouth so you wouldn’t scream as they bickered back and forth. 

-Your eyes kept darting from the front door to your kids’ room.

-He said he was almost home, he should be here at any moment. 

- “Just stick to the plan, she doesn’t change anything.”

- “Doesn’t change anything? You tackled the n. 2 heros’ partner and you think that nothing is gonna happen?”

-You couldn’t care less about their words as you saw the light of the baby monitor light up.

-Eyes widening, you tried to get out of your  restraints to turn it off but to no avail, the soft babbles of your son could be heard coming from the device sending the whole room into an uncomfortable silence. 

-Before you know it, the one that tackled you pushed his partner towards you. 

- “Keep her in check while I go pay a visit to the other room.” 

-Managing to get the gag out of your mouth, your eyes frantic, you tried to reason with him. 

- “I’ll give you whatever you want just stay away from that door, please.” 

- “The number 2 hero has plenty of money. I bet he would be willing to give a handsome amount for that brat in there. What do you say babycakes? 

- “Dude you’re taking it too far-” 

- “Stay away from them!” 

-You realized your mistake a little too late, the new information making the man's eyes light up.

-Two cries came from the twins’ room due to the commotion and your panic rose. 

-But then you saw it. 

-The single feather hovering over the mans’ head, as red and vibrant as ever. 

-You let out a sigh of relief as a wave of red feathers flooded your living room, cutting you free from your restraints. 

-Without missing a beat you sprinted to the door, stepping inside and locking it. 

-Both of them were awake and teary eyed but at the sight of you they calmed down a bit. 

-Taking them out of their cribs, you sat in the far corner with both of them in your lap waiting for the moment Keigo would knock on your door. 

-One would assume that being part of the hero industry, although you weren’t a full blown hero yourself, mere bulgars wouldn’t really faze you. 

-In reality you hadn’t been afraid for your own life, you couldn’t care less about yourself at that moment, but when you realized that they knew about the twins everything slowly fell apart.  

-After what seemed like an eternity a soft knock came from the locked door. 

- “Y/N, dove, open up.”

-Raising to your feet, you almost ripped the door handle out of position in your rush. 

-Once Keigo came into view you didn’t miss a beat before pressing yourself close to his chest, the twins just happy to see their dad. 

- “There are my favorite Takamis!” he said kissing their heads as his wings enclosed all of you. 

- “Dove they are gone, don’t worry. I’m here. We’re alright.” 

-The news report the next morning said that two men were found on the top of the police department butt naked. 

Todoroki Shoto

-Poor man had merely gone to get take out. 

-He hadn’t been gone for that long. 

-But apparently the villains had been waiting for him to leave the house so they could go in. 

-You were still inside with your daughters; the twins chasing each other in their matching onesies while you sat on the living room couch with your youngest.

-You heard the front door open suddenly and at first you assumed that Shoto had forgotten his wallet again.

-But the footsteps were too heavy and his voice didn’t echo through the entrance hall. 

-He always said something when he came in and his footsteps have become lighter ever since the girls were born. 

-Sensing that something was off you placed your toddler in her crib and motioned towards the twins. 

- “Stay with your sister and no matter what you hear you do NOT come into the hallway. Understood?”

- “But what-”

- “Rei do I make myself clear?” 

-Nodding their heads they took their seats in front of the crib, Ren squeezing her hand through the bars to gently grab her sister's chubby hand. 

-Taking a deep breath you entered the hallway and lo and behold, two strangers were staring back at you. 

- “Can I help you gentlemen?” 

-After a few seconds the one closest to the door flung himself at you while the other one started digging through his pockets. 

-Swiftly dodging the attack, you grabbed his wrist and swang him with incredible force to the wall, letting go of him as you turned your attention to the other one. 

-And then you felt a sharp pain course up your right leg as a heaviness settled on your chest. 

-The room began to spin while the air was knocked out of your lungs.

-You kneeled down, hand over your heart as you tried to use your quirk. 

-Nothing happened though; it was like you didn’t have one at all. 

- “Quirk cancelling bullets, aren’t they neat?” 

-The man stared down at you as ever so slowly your senses came back at you. 

- “I can still beat your ass even without a quirk.”

- “I don’t think you’ll do that.”

-Angry voices could be heard from the other room before the man you had slammed into the wall appeared again, blood dripping from his nose and onto the snow white hair of your daughter.

-Ren looked at you, tears forming in her eyes as a red flash of hair jumped onto the man. 

-Rei was having none of it.

-Taking that opportunity you kicked the one in front of you in the groin before separating the girls from the other, sprinting into the living room, closing the sliding doors behind you. 

-Laying the girls on the couch you grabbed one of the fireplace tools and got into a fighting position. 

-Soon enough the door opened revealing none other than Shoto himself.

- “Are you all alright? Did they hurt you?”

-He looked absolutely disheveled, his hair going in different directions as his gaze frantically scanned all four of you, his eyes lingering at your slightly raised leg. 

-The twins hopped off the couch and tackled his legs. 

-Shoto crouched down hugging them both tightly as they started to sniffle into their dad’s chest. 

- “T-they hurt mama and t-tried to hurt Ren.”

-He shot you a look but you waved him off, deciding to instead check on the baby before joining them on the living room floor. 

- “I won’t let them touch you ever again, even if it's the last thing I do.”

Dabi/Touya Todoroki *I ain't never letting this go*

-In reality the dudes didn’t know you were preggos. 

-You were too early on so you couldn’t tell you were preggo but still. 

-They knew that you had something going with Dabi and that’s why they wanted to fuck with you. 

-They thought that they would gain something from trying * key word trying * to take you.

-They were wrong though because a) they got their asses kicked by you and b) they got fried once Dabi found them. 

-You were chilling at Dabis’ while he was out to get you some mustard and a chocolate bar because cravings, when you heard the door open. 

-Immediately you knew it wasn’t Dabi. 

-You would’ve heard him grumbling under his breath about forgetting to take money with him * bc you have been pushing him to pay for stuff every once in a  while* or he would be shouting at you that your disgusting meal had arrived. 

-Neither of these things happened so something was up. 

-Not bothering to get up because you didn’t give two fucks, you waited for whoever stepped inside the apartment to show themselves. 

-You are a villain hun you ain’t about to stress over some crusty ass dude trespassing into your house because you could obliterate his ass from the face of the earth in negative five seconds. 

-Whispers and a frantic “But what if he comes back?” was all you heard before the ground breaking phrase left their mouth. 

- “Who cares? She’s a woman, how strong can she be anyways?”

-You were livid. 

-It might have been a mix of your hormones along with the fact that that was hella sexist but you were ready to beat some crusty ass. 

-Laying down on the couch and pretending to be asleep you waited for them. 

-And soon enough you felt the three figures standing over you. 

- “See easy as hell.” 

- “And hot as hell, please don’t forget that.” 

-All three of them stared down at you like that pikachu meme for a solid minute before scrambling to activate their quirks. 

- “We don’t wanna hurt a pretty girl like you so please don’t cause a fuss.” 

- “Oh baby you think you can hurt me? Please have you seen who I’m dating?” 

-Slowly standing up you flicked your wrist and one of them dropped to the floor. 

-You made your way to the kitchen pouring yourself a glass of water right when one of them ran into you, pinning you to the counter. 

- “Watch it there bud I’m carrying precious carg-”

- “Shut up you fucking slut! You’ll come with us whether you like it or not.” 

- “The only person who can boss me around is not currently in this room so I suggest you let go.” 

- “Yeah you should probably let her go.” 

-At the sound of his deep voice you knew that they were dead men. 

-The one basically on top of you stared at Dabi in horror as you pushed him off of you. 

-Making your way to your boyfriend you gave him a small peck while he rested a hand over you stomach as a silent ‘are you okay?’.

-Shrugging you took the bag from his hands and went into your bedroom, not caring to see what he was about to do to them. 

-You were hungry anyways. 

- “Now which one of you wants to be roasted first?”

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​  @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @bemorefiction​ @ezoyscorner​

[lovely-ateez]

Favorite Place~

ꕥPosted: 3/8/21

ꕥGenre: College!au, Angst, Fluff

ꕥPairing: FemReader! x Emo!Hongjoong

ꕥWord Count: ~4.8k

ꕥWarnings: General angst (happy ending), Unknown man being creepy to reader, Characters insulting reader behind her back, Alcohol intake, Driving with a few sips of alcohol (please don’t drink and drive), Implied violence, Language, Oral (f recieving), Unprotected sex, Corruption kink, Language

ꕥA/N: Reader is a girly-girl bc we need more rep that isn’t hella negative and to actually be portrayed as smart and hardworking for once 😤 You👏can👏be👏both👏 ANyWay—thank you for bearing with me while I wrote this

I ran my hands along the open science textbook laying upon my desk, eyes scanning rapidly over the information. The pages were thin and flimsy, clearly showing the book’s age. If I wasn’t careful, the pages would rip with ease. Not that I had time to actually think about that.

In less than five minutes I, along with the twenty five other poor souls who took this class of their own volition, would be handed our last final for the class. A hundred and ten questions in an hour and thirty minutes.

The class was basically academic suicide and had I been told that, I would have stayed far, far away from the class. But no. No one bothered to run that by me.

A whiff of familiar cologne filled my nose and against my better judgement I looked up to find the class genius, Hongjoong Kim. It was bad enough that he was smart as a whip and never needed to study, but on top of it all he was a dangerous, handsome, irresistible bad boy.

He gave me a wink, a sly smile resting on his lips. I gave him the same reaction I always did: a blank face. There had been multiple times he had tried to rile me up, whether that be say something flirty or wink, or “accidentally” touch my shoulder, and I refused to give him the satisfaction of any reaction. I would keep a blank face, hoping that he would leave me alone.

I wasn’t immune to his charms. I felt butterflies in my stomach every time he looked at me just like any other girl he tried it on, but I didn’t want him to know that. The biggest reaction I had given him was an eyebrow quirk at most.

I could tell it bothered him. I knew he was frustrated that he couldn’t get me to blush or stutter my words, and that may have been part of why he kept up his antics. Probably the entire reason, knowing him. Had he not been a fuckboy, I might have fallen for him. Might have.

I returned my eyes to my book and heard his footsteps walk past me, headed to the very back of class. His usual spot.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen,” A loud clap could be heard from the front of the room, our professor signalling the start of class, “It is time for your final. I hope you all are well prepared. I ask that you remove anything from your desk aside from a pencil and I will begin to hand out the tests. You may leave as you finish, just make sure to hand me your tests before you leave. Good luck.”

Book already off my desk, I gripped my pencil, hoping six hours of studying was enough.

“Thank you.” I muttered to my professor as he placed the stack of papers on my desk.

Here goes nothing, I suppose.

-

I handed in my test with a smile, hoping that I’d pass. Taking a deep breath I stepped out of the classroom, seeing a familiar face. At the noise of my footsteps Hongjoong looked up from his phone with a devilish smile, eyes staring me down. I must’ve not noticed he turned in his test before mine, not that I was surprised. He always finished his test the quickest out of all of us.

“How’s it going, pretty-in-pink?”

Pink was my favorite color and and I wore pink clothes often, unfortunately it had earned me several unwanted nicknames, all coming from Hongjoong.

I barely bothered him a glace, “I have a name.” 

“But your nicknames are so unique to you. Don’t you love them?”

“Can’t say I do.” I walked away, not interested in entertaining him any longer than I already had.

“Farewell, princess.” He fleeted me with a honey-like voice.

Suppressing an eye roll, I gripped the straps of my backpack, ecstatic to get away from him. The more time I spent away from him the better. The less time I was with him meant there was less of a chance for me to get attached to him. I refused to let that happen.

After I left the building I grabbed a coffee and walked to the library, bracing the cold weather. I only had one final left and I needed to make sure I studied enough. Just one last push before I was done for the semester. Taking the elevator up to the third floor, I saw a familiar face who smiled at me and I sat down at his table.

“Hey! How do you think you did on the final?” Lia asked me as I took my laptop out.

“Honestly I don’t know. I don’t want to say I passed because knowing my luck, if I do I’ll fail it. I knew the majority of the answers though, so there’s that.”

“That’s a positive.” She cocked her head, observing the way my eyes were glued to my laptop, “So what are you studying for now?”

“Criminal Psychology. I don’t take it until late tomorrow but I wanna get some studying in.”

“You’ve been studying for hours, you’ll be fine. Let’s just go shopping instead.”

My ears perked and I slowly raised my head, “Damn you. You know I’m not gonna turn you down.”

A wide smile formed on her face as she placed her hands behind her head, “What are friends for?”

“Oh don’t look so cocky.”

“Why not? I’m pretty sure I’ve won here. Now let’s get going.”

Lia stood up and slid on her backpack, a smile still plastered on her face. Just as I was placing my laptop in my own backpack I heard a string of male voices and a mention of my name.

I gave Lia a look and, curiosity taking over, I snuck closer to the direction of the voices to see a group of men at a table hid behind a large stack of bookshelves. There were four of them, not a one of them sitting properly in a chair. Two were sitting on top of the table, another with his legs propped on the table, the other sitting upon a backpack which itself was on a chair. I could only see two of their faces and didn’t recognize either.

“We’ve gotta invite the token good girl, right?” A tall man with dark hair smiled, leaning back on the table.

A man with distinct dimples, clad in all black scoffed, “Y/n? Like she’d go to a party anyway.”

“She might.” Hongjoong tiled his head, allowing me to see him, black earrings swaying as he looked at the man with dimples.

Oh. He’s there, too.

“She dresses like she still believes in the tooth fairy.” A man with a blonde ponytail scoffed, “You think she’s gonna come to a party with people like us?”

I grabbed Lia’s arm to prevent her from storming over. She was upset, I was too, but I wanted to keep listening. Still, I couldn’t deny the pang of hurt I felt as I looked down at my pink skirt and cropped top. Was it a crime to like the color pink?

And I thought I looked cute today...

“You should be the last person to judge someone over the way the dress, Yeosang. You never wear anything but black. If she likes it, then she likes it. Fuck you.” Hongjoong bit back.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I didn’t know why he defended me, maybe he was just defending fashion for fashion’s sake and it had nothing to do with me, but it was still nice of him.

Yeosang smiled, “Damn someone’s aggressive, huh? Someone might almost think you’ve got feelings for the girl.”

Hongjoong remained silent.

“Ooh is she still not reacting to your desperate attempts to woo her?”

Hongjoong quickly became defensive, “Listen, I’m not-”

“Okay we’re not getting into this. Just invite her, you never know what she’ll say.” The dark-haired man said to Hongjoong, “And invite her friend, too. She wouldn’t go alone.”

“Yeah that’s a fair point. I’ll talk to them next time I see them.”

I turned to face Lia, whispering in her ear, “Let’s go. Please.”

Her face told me that she would much rather confront them, but changed as my eyes began to water once more. She nodded and put an arm around me, leading me out of the library.

A tear fell down my cheek as we walked. I raised my hand to wipe my face when Lia did it for me. She pulled me into a tight hug, running her hands through my hair.

“Don’t you think for a second that you’re any less of amazing. Fuck them for not seeing it.”

As she spoke more tears began to fall and my breath hitched, “But-t they-”

“No. There’s no excuse for being shitty to you, especially when you haven’t done anything to wrong them.”

I nodded, trying my best to believe her and steady my breathing.

“What can I do for you? What can I do to help?”

Releasing Lia from my tight grip I stepped back and looked in her eyes, “Nothing. Let’s just go shopping.”

My friend nodded and slipped her hand into my own, something she would always do when I needed comfort. I squeezed her warm hand, following her footsteps as she led me to her car.

“So...you’re not gonna go to the party are you?”

“Yeah I don’t think so.”

She let out a hum in approval and nodded, opening the car door for me.

As much as I wanted to take my mind off of the boys’ words, I couldn’t. No amount of retail therapy seemed to help that. I knew Lia was doing her best to make me feel better and I felt a bit guilty for bringing down the mood. She scoffed when I told her, making eye contact and emphasizing that she simply wanted to make me feel better.

Sooner than I liked, we had to part. Lia had a class in thirty minutes and I had to help out in an on-campus activity. She gave me a tight hug and a small smile, bidding me adue.

I was the Vice President of our Activities Planning Board and as such was in charge of setting up an Academic Bowl for the competing students. Unfortunately, I was having trouble setting up the large tables and my small frame just made it harder. I was confident anyone around could see that I was struggling and I huffed, hoping no one would look my way. It didn’t help that I was outside in the middle of campus, where anyone just walking by could see me.

“Do you need any help?”

I turned to find Hongjoong with his dark backpack slung over his shoulder, a concerned look on his face. Had I not desperately needed help, I would have refused.

“Yeah I do. Hold this, will you?” I nodded at the opposite side of the table I was struggling to hold.

He appeared shocked that I accepted his offer, but I didn’t dwell on it and instead lifted the table. We worked in silence aside from a few words of instruction I gave him, and I was thankful for the lack of distraction. When we set up the last table I placed my hands on my hips, looking at the tables.

Hongjoong crossed his arms, “Why were you doing this alone?”

“No one else signed up to help for the Academic Bowl, so I did it myself.” He gave a confused look so I clarified my position.

“Of course you’re the Vice President.” Hongjoong muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I faced him, feeling slightly offended.

He shrugged, “I know you’re just involved in a lot. I’m not surprised.”

Ignoring his comment, I took the conversation another direction. “Why did you help me?”

“You needed help, princess.” He answered simply.

I nodded, ignoring the nickname. “Well...thanks.”

A moment of silence followed until Hongjoong broke it, “Hey listen, there’s a party this weekend I want you to go.”

“Why?” I cocked my head.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t know anyone that will be there.”

“You know me.”

“That’s not exactly an incentive.”

He scoffed in mock offense, “Okay first of all, ouch. Second, what if I sweeten the deal?”

My eyebrows raised, lips forming a smile, “Oh yeah? What could that possibly be?”

He faltered for a moment, his voice lowering seemingly without intent, “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. You’re beautiful.”

I turned from him, trying to will any semblance of a flustered expression off my face. “You were saying before?”

Hongjoong chuckled, “I’ll drive. You can even invite your friend if you want.”

“Lia?”

“Yeah. If it makes you more comfortable.”

At first, I wanted to say no. At first, I wanted to continue my streak of refusing any advance he made on me. But looking at his kind eyes, completely devoid of any malintent, I felt my heart flutter. When my mind thought back to how he had defended me in the library I felt a warmth bubbling in my chest. I pretended to ponder for a moment, even though I already knew my answer.

“Okay but I don’t...I don’t think I should tell Lia.”

“Why’s that?”

“She kinda hates you.”

He looked taken aback, “Might I ask why?”

I sighed, crossing my arms, “Don’t worry about it. So where is this party?”

He filled me in on the details and I did my best to keep up my neutral façade. I wouldn’t admit it, but I was ecstatic to see him outside of campus, my will of staying away from him faltering by the minute.

-

I stood in front of my closet for what seemed like hours, desperately trying to find something that would match the occasion. I laughed a bit to myself as I looked at the section of black clothes I had. I went through a bit of an emo phase in middle school and I just couldn’t bring myself to get rid of any of them. I debated avoiding black clothes all together, but the words of Yeosang rang in my head and I bit the inside of my cheek.

Fine. I’ll change it up. But I’ll be damned if I give up on pink.

Taking a deep breath I slipped into a light pink leather skirt reaching mid-thigh with black fishnets. I put on a black leather jacket over my black see through shirt exposing my lacy bra underneath, my pink shoes on last.

I took several deep breaths and observed myself in the mirror. It was a change, definitely. I didn’t mind black, but I wouldn’t wear just black alone. I wanted it to be more feminine.

I heard a car horn outside my apartment much sooner than I expected. Bracing for Hongjoong’s reaction, I stepped outside. I was greeted with a smug smile, the man adorning it seeming as confident as a god until he observed my clothes, his eyebrows raising.

Hongjoong’s eyes scanned over me, taking in my abrupt fashion change, “I still wasn’t entirely certain you’d go. Much less looking like this.”

My lips quirked into half-smile, “Well I can’t show up looking like I normally do.”

“Why not?”

My heart swelled at the genuine confusion evident on his face. “Some people don’t care for the way I dress.” I took a breath and continued, “I heard you and your friends in the library.”

I forced myself to look him in the eyes. I could see the gears turning in his head as he put the pieces together, a scowl forming on his face. “You don’t have to change a goddamn thing. You look great, don’t get me wrong, but you look great in pink, too. And I’m sorry if he made you feel otherwise.”

I shook my head. “It’s alright, I actually kinda like it.”

“You definitely make it work.” He swallowed, voice lowering.

“Then maybe I should wear a bit of black more often.”

The man gave a thousand dollar smile, quirking a brow that left my panties feeling slightly damp. He motioned to the car door, “Hop in, cutie.”

A friendly string of conversation followed us as Hongjoong drove. I felt my nerves starting to dissipate, his smile I once despised now bringing me comfort. And really, he was much funnier than I had believed. I found myself laughing with him more than I had in a long time. I knew my walls were falling, but I wasn’t trying to fight it anymore.

Why the hell not? He’s kind enough, and he isn’t even close to being hard on the eyes.

The car drive was much quicker than I expected, although how quickly I was unfamiliar with my surroundings through me for a loop. The trees around us became more sporadic and the sun set quicker than what seemed normal. I fidgeted slightly, prompting Hongjoong to look over at me. He intertwined my fingers with his own and I smiled, secretly welcoming his touch.

“Hey, don’t worry. I’m right here with you, okay?”

I nodded, grasping onto his hand tightly. Before I knew it, my eyes locked with the building in front of us. I took in the abandoned building in front of me, eyes widening slightly as I observed its poor condition. Large windows were shattered, vines were growing around pillars, grass peaking through what once was concrete.

“This is the most sketchy place I’ve ever seen in my life.” I spoke, feeling slightly alarmed by the building but comforted by Hongjoong’s presence.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“I literally just saw a rat run out a broken window.”

Hongjoong suppressed a smile and let go of my hand, opening his car door and telling me to stay in place as he walked around and opened the door on my side. I hesitated as I exited the car, a bit afraid of what could possibly be inside the building.

“We can leave at anytime. If you don’t want to go in we can leave right now. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

As sweet as he was being, I felt the need to prove to him that I was brave enough to enter, even if it did look like he was leading me to my death.

“Thank you, but I’m okay. We can go in.”

He smiled, leading me to an out-of-the-way entrance which seemed to lead to a different building entirely. I gave an involuntary “woah” as we entered the building. As horrific as it looked on the outside, it was gorgeous on the inside. Perfectly up kept brick walls hugged the sides of the building, lights were strung from the ceiling, arcade machines and dart boards were huddled in a corner, and of course, there was a bar with a seemingly unlimited amount of liquor. People were scattered all throughout, socializing and being generally loud. Everyone wore about the same color clothes as Hongjoong, dark as they could possibly get.

“How did you even find this place?”

“My friend Yeosang and I were just driving around and we found it one day. Decided to make it our hangout spot.”

I looked at him confused, still amazed at my surroundings. Hongjoong led me over to his familiar group of friends, assuring me that they wouldn’t bite, and introduced me to the seven men, four of which I hadn’t seen prior. I saw the color drain from a few of their faces as they saw me, likely from their words in the library, but I didn’t comment on it. Overall, they were much friendlier than I expected them to be.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” Hongjoong nudged me, “You want anything?”

“No that’s okay. I think I’m gonna check out the pinball machines. They look kinda cool.”

“You sure you don’t wanna stay by my side? I won’t take long.”

I shook my head, “I’ll be okay.”

He chucked, “Alright. I’ll grab a drink and I’ll head right over, princess.”

I bit my lip at the nickname and wandered over to the machines, surprisingly feeling comfortable in the environment, despite everything being so unfamiliar. All of the games were being used, some people clearly playing better than others.

I got lost in the artwork on the side of a particular pinball machine when a gruff voice caught my attention. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here?”

I turned to meet a tall man with grey hair. He was young, likely in his mid-twenties, and reeked of cigarettes and a foul smell I couldn’t place.

A flash of fear ran through me and I tried to make my voice as confident as possible, “I was invited.”

“Well...that’s certainly a shame now, isn’t it? I wasn’t invited, but I decided to show up for a bit of fun anyway.”

He came closer to me, our height difference incredibly prominent as he leaned over me, “How about you give me a kiss, little thing?” I ran away as soon as the words left his mouth, hoping that he wouldn’t follow me but assuming he would. I dashed around quickly and sporadically around people, hoping I would lose him.

I looked around desperately for Hongjoong, sighing when I found him surrounded by his friends, laughing at something one of them said. I ran up to him and grabbed his arm, gaining his attention.

I hope this fucking works.

“I need you to kiss me.”

A look of confusion flashed in his eyes, “What?”

“Please kiss me.” I begged, eyes wide, disregarding the stares of his friends around us, hoping that if the man saw I was taken he’d leave me alone.

Without hesitation he wrapped his free hand around my waist—a cup of alcohol still in the other—and pulled me close, pressing his lips to my own. He kissed me hard, biting my bottom lip slightly and letting out a growl only I could hear. He wasn’t my first kiss, far from it, but no one had ever kissed me like he did. Just a kiss had never left me feeling weak at the knees. Just a kiss had ever made me feel so submissive, making me want to beg him to take me right on the spot, regardless of the fear in my veins. Even with the taste of alcohol still on his lips, his scent overtook me.

He pulled back, eyes darker than before, and raised a brow, “Care to tell me what that was about?”

Just then I realized my hands had been gripping his leather coat, pulling him just as close as he was pulling me. I looked over in the direction of where the man was before, not seeing him.

“A man was following me and he was trying to get me to kiss him a-and I didn’t know him...I just wanted him to leave me alone.”

His eyes narrowed at my words, a rage I hadn’t seen before taking over them, “What did he look like?”

“I-I don’t know he was tall and had grey hair and-”

He cursed under his breath. Keeping me just as close he turned to the men around him, their eyes narrowed as well.

“You heard that?” He asked his friends.

“Loud and clear.” San said, cracking his knuckles, a scowl on his face that scared me, even though I knew I wasn’t the one it was directed at.

“I thought we told him to never come back here.” Jongho snarled.

“We did.” Hongjoong said.

Seonghwa looked at me, nodding to Hongjoong, “Keep her safe and take her out of here. If he’s here I’m sure he’s brought friends. Yeosang, lead everyone out. We’ll take care of him.”

Hongjoong looked conflicted, obviously wanting to stay and fight, but gave into the older man’s command. “Be fucking safe,” he barked, but I could see the fear in his eyes as he looked at me, “Come on, we’re going.”

Seonghwa mumbled something to Hongjoong and he nodded in response, tossing his alcohol to the ground. I didn’t have time to ask questions as he led me out a back door, the darkness of the night equally horrifying and comforting, and quickly pushed me into his car, apologizing the entire time. He entered the key into the ignition and the car sprung to life.

“Uhh...maybe it’s not a good idea for you to drive. You’ve been drinking, right?”

“I had maybe two sips. I’ll drive safe, promise.”He gave me a small comforting smile, “Put your seatbelt on. Hold on tight, sweetheart.” His voice was calm but firm as he spoke. I nodded and did as he said, bracing as his car sped off, my heart beating in overtime.

The ride was a blur, the only things I could remember being Hongjoong’s calming voice, periodically reassuring me that things would be okay. We arrived at a foreign building which Hongjoong called his house, and only then did I let myself fall apart. I felt tears streaming down my face as my hands quivered, my head beginning to pound.

“Hey, hey look at me. You’re safe. You’re safe with me.” My teary eyes met his and I felt my heart break at the way he was looking at me, as if he had made me cry himself.

“Here, come on. Let’s get you inside, okay?”

My tears slowed as he carefully led me inside his house, sitting me down on his bed. He crouched down in front of me, wiping the tears from my face.

“I’m so sorry, princess. I didn’t realize he was going to be there. I never should’ve made you come along I’m so-”

“Who was that?”

Hongjoong sighed, “He used to be a friend of mine. We had a falling out and he became violent. One time he showed up at one of our parties with some friends of his to start a fight. We won and told him to never come back. Looks like he did.” He looked off into nowhere, regret clear on his face.

“You didn’t know,” I sniffled, “You couldn’t have known.”

I watched the muscles in his jaw tighten, his agitation still visible. I brought a hand out to reach his own, trying to comfort him. The loud ding of Hongjoong’s phone made me jump and he apologized profusely. As he took out his phone from his pants pocket I looked around his room for the first time. It looked exactly as I had expected, solid black furniture and so many band posters decorating the wall I could hardly tell what color his bedroom walls were.

Hongjoong spoke up, “I just got a text from Seonghwa. There were two other people there with him. My friends took care of them don’t worry, you’re safe.”

I nodded, pulling him into a hug and burying my face into his chest. “If you’re comfortable with it,” He started, “I’d like you to stay here. I want to know you’re safe.”

My eyes met his as he moved a hair out of my face, “I’m not pressuring you. If you don’t want to I understand.”

A hand of his ran up and down my back, tracing little patterns here and there, and I realized just how much I wanted to be with him.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay.”

He laughed, “What do you mean ‘if it’s alright with you’ I asked.”

I bit my bottom lip and looked down, a bit embarrassed.

Hongjoong laughed, “Hey, look at me.” He said in a commanding yet sweet tone that made my thighs press together. I glanced back up at him, his handsome features making me feel dizzy.

He chuckled, “What’s that look for? You got something to say to me?”

I hesitated, “Actually, I do have a question.”

“Which is?”

“Why did you chase after me?”

Hongjoong smiled, “You never gave a reaction to anything I tried. It confused me and piqued my curiosity. So I began to watch you and how you interacted with people. You’re gentle and sweet. You’re innocent and haven’t let the world tear you down. I admire that.”

He leaned closer to me, his lips brushing my ear, “And it turned me on beyond belief. I wondered how I could ruin you, thought about how I could turn you into a quivering mess as you beg for me.”

I shivered and pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes. His beautiful, dark eyes. Hongjoong let out a dark chuckle as he sat on his bed, lifting me on his lap. He gave an eyebrow raise and a crooked smile as my breath hitched while looking at him, taking him in.

How did I never notice how his dark hair falls to one side when he cocks his head and how he looks so endearing when it happens? How did I never pay attention to his soft pink lips that give way to his gorgeous smile and how much I’ve been dying to kiss them all this time? How did I not see the way his eyes form crescents when he smiles, making my heart grow ten times over?

Why did I never think to take note of how his deep voice makes my stomach do somersaults? Why was I so unaware of his tongue piercing that was leaving me wonder how it would feel on my skin? Why didn’t I observe the black painted nails of his that were currently dancing along my thighs, giving me goosebumps?

How and why did I never notice him?

“You’re such a good girl.”

And for the first time around him, I flushed.

He chuckled, “Oh? You like that?”

I nodded quickly and he said it again, smiling as my face heated up once more.

“It’s so good to see you react to what I say. I wonder...” Hongjoong leaned closer to me, “How will you react when you’re underneath me? Squirming and begging for me to touch you?”

I gave him a look of desperation and balled his shirt into my fist, trying to move him closer, “Please.”

Hongjoong lifted me off of him, quickly discarding my clothes followed by his own shirt. My eyes were guided down by his abs and I ran a hand across them without thinking, whimpering quietly.

“Is my baby girl getting needy?” He cooed.

I closed my eyes, once again nodding in embarrassment.

“How about we take care of that?”

He laid me down on the soft sheets of his bed, leaving me in anticipation as he pinned my hands above my head with a hand of his own. My eyes widened and he chuckled, running a single finger along my folds.

“You’re so unbelievably fucking wet...do I turn you on that much?”

I let out a small “yes” and he hummed in response. Placing a few kisses upon my lips, Hongjoong slowly entered two fingers into me and my back arched. His fingers curled, hitting a spot inside of me that’d I’d never been able to reach. I spread my legs as far as they could go, pleading for more, feeling tears prick my eyes.

Hongjoong spoke, his voice already dropping several octaves, “Keep your hands here, understand? I don’t want you moving them.”

I nodded, willing my hands to stay in place as his own moved to my hips, leaving kisses along my inner thighs.

“Hongjoong please.”

“Please what, princess?”

“Please touch me.”

“Oh, I think I can do better than that, don’t you?”

His lips attached to my core, tongue running through my folds and nose hitting my clit as I moaned pathetically. His hands held my hips down as I tried to buck them up, barely able to keep my hands above my head. After what felt like years, his mouth finally reached my clit and I cried out as his lips attached to it, sucking hard and leaving kitten licks. My high built up quickly and I came hard, my hands leaving their spot and pulling slightly on his hair.

“Thought I told you to keep your hands above your head, no?”

I mumbled an apology and he leaned over to kiss me, “You’re forgiven, darling.”

He seemed just as impatient as I was and without much begging the rest of his clothes were off, his dick teasing my entrance.

“God Hongjoong please I need you so bad.”

“I need you too, y/n.”

He fully entered me, cursing as he did so. I was so caught up in the feeling of him inside of me that I didn’t even register him asking me a question until he laughed at me.

“Feeling good, baby? Can’t even speak?”

I whimpered, nodding seeming to be the only thing I could manage to do. I felt his member twitch inside of me and I pleaded for him to fuck me, to give me anything. Hongjoong growled and jerked his hips up into me over and over, leaving me a moaning mess.

“Taking me so well, aren’t you? Such a good girl for me.”

The amount of praise he gave me caused a few tears to fall from my eyes, not realizing how bad I needed it until that moment. My walls clenched around him every time, causing him to groan and snap his hips into me even harder. Hongjoong’s eyes grew hazy, his dark hair sticking to his forehead.

“I’m close, darling. Be my good girl and cum for me”

His hand trailed down to my clit, rubbing tiny circles. My back arched as I came in time with him, our breaths synchronizing as we gasped for air.

He slowly pulled out of me and ran to the bathroom to grab a towel, cleaning me up. Hongjoong giggled and I raised a brow at him.

“I never thought you’d give me a chance. It’s almost like I’ve corrupted you.”

“You have. Aren’t you aware of the party I went to because of you? I almost died.”

Hongjoong laughed as he crawled into bed and pulled blankets over the both of us. He ran a hand through my hair, looking at me fondly, “You did not almost die.”

“Okay yeah but I could have. That’s what we should be focusing on here.”

“I think there’s something else I’d like to focus on.”

Hongjoong pulled me into a deep kiss, hand slithering down to my waist. His kisses trailed to my ear, a slight chuckle leaving his lips, “My pretty princess.”

I looked at him with doe eyes, slightly in awe of him, and wondered how I could’ve pushed him away for so long. I knew for certain that I had no intention of doing so ever again.

When I told him he smiled, “Good. You’ve had a grip on my heart since day one. I’d be a fool to let you get away from me.”

I blushed slightly, much to his entertainment. We snuggled up to each other in silence, listening to the sound of our synchronized breathing as I lulled to sleep, our warm fingers intertwined. My dreams filled of him.

“Sleep well, my princess. I’ll be right here when you wake.”

[icyllic]

Path of Destruction | JEON JUNGKOOK

PAIRING: Jungkook x Reader

GENRE: Drama, Angst (maybe???), Thriller

WARNINGS: Stalking, obsession, swearing, a little dirty talk & thoughts

WORD COUNT: 2635

*note: ↑ i came across this video and saw this comment by boogieedits (credits to parkchimn & boogieedits for the inspiration! 😍) and felt inspired by this wonderful plot! i’m inspired by the amazing video edit too! <3 i decided to give it a try and welp- truthfully i’m having writer’s block with my Full of Stars series that i might wanna take a break from it for a while until i figured what the next episode’s plot would be. for now, let’s enjoy this oneshot! 🥰 (extra note: several changes were made in this story and yes, the nickname might be a little cringy but i couldn’t think of a better pet name, so....bear with it, i guess 😅😂 also, Y/N’s angered replies are intended to have typos. i purposely did the typos in her texts bcs she was angry af :3)

The night was feeling empty. The streets were quiet and you had no idea where you were heading. You couldn’t believe that you actually managed to get out from your best friend, Suzie’s party that was filled with a lot of her drunken friends and thank God you successfully escaped, even though right now you were feeling a little tipsy due to the amount of alcohol you consumed earlier.

“Fucking Suzie,” you mumbled as you walked home. “telling me it was just a small party and she lied! Who would lie to their own friends?!” You have the habit of talking to yourself if you feel alone and that was what you were feeling right now, so alone in the streets and you were clueless. You felt the need to cry but what’s the whole point? No one was here to save you even if you did.

You were sure you weren’t dreaming or hallucinating at all but you heard footsteps were following you. As you turned around, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, seeing as there was no one. When you turned around to walk again, the footsteps were heard. “HEY!” you yelled as you aggressively turned around. “don’t you dare follow me or I wouldn’t hesitate to call the cops!” You rolled your eyes in annoyance, mumbling to yourself again to make the uneasy feeling go away.

As you finally arrived home, you were struggling to grab the keys to unlock the door. At this very moment, the keys were tricking you; purposely tangling themselves with your pocket. “Are you kidding me?! I wanna get inside, you stupid keys!” You widened your eyes when you saw your older sister opening the door for you. How was she still awake at 2 a.m.?

“You look like a horrible mess.” Michelle commented, and you scoffed while pushing her away from the door as you went inside. 

“Why are you still even awake anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?” You were shaking your head while shutting your eyes to avoid that tipsy feeling.

“How can I sleep when I know my little sister wasn’t home yet? I was worried sick, you moronic bitch.” She shook her head, feeling disappointed with how you acted right now. 

You were feeling sleepy and tired, so you decided to ignore her and went upstairs. Before you went to your room, you heard your sister yelling, “Yeah, go ahead and ignore me just like you always do to avoid conversations with me! I’ve had enough of babysitting you, Y/N! You’re so horrible!” You slammed the door before hearing any more of her complains. 

Despite feeling so tired, you couldn’t sleep at all. You took the time to stare up at the ceiling instead, filling your head with numerous thoughts. But the thoughts stopped as you heard a Ding! on your phone. You read the texts and to your surprise, it was from an unknown number. 

unknown [now]: sweet dreams, twinkle toes

unknown [now]: it took me nearly four years to pluck up the courage to text you

unknown [now]: and i can’t lie, i’m having butterflies 

unknown [now]: you don’t know how many times i’ve dreamed of touching you

unknown [now]: by the way, go take a shower before you sleep 🌹

“What the hell?” You got up quick and scanned the whole area in your room, worrying that person who texted you might be in there. Hiding under your bed, maybe? You didn’t know whether to text this person back or not, or to block him but if you block him now, how would you know where he got your number from? ... or how would you know whether this person was a male or a female? So you decided to just leave it be for a while and reply this unknown person’s texts tomorrow. After this dreamland taking over your world, you were hoping that these texts were just all hallucinations due to tiredness. 

••••••

....except that they were not hallucinations at all. You started to feel panic when you saw the messages were still there in your message box. Now it was your turn to build the courage to reply this person back. 

you [now]: Who are you and how did you get my number?

Anxiety started to form inside you. You were supposed to run some errands today but with the situation you were facing right now, you were having doubts whether it was safe to go out there or not.

Your daydream of thoughts stopped when Michelle walked in to your room. “Y/N?” You raised your head up to look at her. “you feeling better now?”

You nodded, feeling hesitated as you knew that answer wasn’t true at all. You weren’t feeling any better, even after last night for being a little drunk but with this stalker texting you??? A whole new level of creepy started to scare you. You kept wondering how on Earth this person got your number. 

“I baked you some cookies, just in case you were hungry and um,” she paused for a while. “I’m sorry for yelling at you last night. I didn’t mean to.”

These words shocked you. Her apology made you give her a look of astonishment. You and Michelle have been through it all; dramas over boys, arguing over little things and never once in your life you ever heard her saying sorry to you. This was so new, she finally apologized to you for the first time in her 25 years of living. 

“I’m sorry for being an irresponsible bitch, Michelle. I didn’t mean it too.” She shook her head while smiling, walking towards you and gave you a hug to comfort you. Ding! And this person appeared again, stopping you from hugging your sister. 

“Whoa, who’s texting you at an exact 8 a.m.?” Michelle teased while wiggling her eyebrows. You chuckled at her silly attitude, although this wasn’t supposed to be a happy situation at all. You were already feeling terrified as curiosity started filling itself in you, wondering what that person’s text might be.

“Probably just Suzie wanting to apologize too for being a lying turd.” You shrugged it off, chuckling alongside your sister. Michelle then walked out and you quickly locked the door, opening the stalker’s message. 

unknown [3m ago]: you’ll know soon enough, twinkle toes 🥰

Twinkle toes??? Who the fuck does this person think he or she is? Calling me twinkle-fucking-toes? Your thoughts started to annoy you right now. You felt the need to slam something out of frustration, but you weren’t feeling like it anymore. You were still feeling scared because of this whole situation. 

••••••

“Class dismissed!” Mr. Peterson announced when the bell rang. The whole Math class felt like a living nightmare. You were feeling sleepy the whole time but your attention was drifted off somewhere else. 

When you walked outside the classroom to pack your stuff in your locker, you were stopped by Adrian. Adrian, the guy you knew had a crush on you since sophomore year. He was indeed cute; shaggy hair that really matched with his bright, green eyes and had a very nice personality that could make every girl fall in love with him. Unfortunately for Adrian, you weren’t one of those girls. 

You’ve been taking the time to appreciate and love yourself for several years now. Your last relationship ended because that asshole cheated on and lied to you a lot of times, leading you to have trust issues and hence the reason why you didn’t wanna give Adrian a chance too. But Adrian, being a nice guy he was, stated that he’d wait for you no matter how long it might take. 

“I brought your favorite snacks, Y/N. I hope we can eat lunch together today.” Adrian showed you your favorite snacks that were hidden in his brown bag. You softly smiled at how thoughtful Adrian really was. 

“Thanks, Adrian. But um, I don’t think I wanna eat lunch today. I might just head home this afternoon. I’m not up for afternoon classes.” You felt bad for lying to him. Truthfully, you just wanted to investigate more about this stalker of yours.

His face was sad, but he seemed to understand. “Oh, okay.. are you okay, Y/N? You don’t look okay.” His voice was recognized with genuine concern.

“I’m having headache, that’s all. I need rest.” You scratched the back of your neck, feeling this conversation becoming awkward already. You were uncomfortable, your negative thoughts made you feel like this was an uncomfortable conversation to participate in. 

Adrian nodded as he understood why, so he patted your back gently. You didn’t see it wrong, though. He wanted to kiss your forehead, but hesitant to do so since he knew that might be wrong. It was because he knew you didn’t feel the same for him. 

••••••

{8.47 p.m. with Adrian walking in the streets alone}

Adrian was listening to music on his phone as he was on his way home from his friend’s house. But eventually stopped when he felt a sudden presence behind him. He turned around and it wasn’t there anymore. He shrugged it off, thinking it might have only been his imagination. 

When he was singing along with the song he was listening to, the footsteps were closer and closer and suddenly, two strong hands grabbed Adrian’s hair and pulling him to the ground, kicking him hard and punching him numerous times. 

This unknown person who punched Adrian was wearing a black mask, a black hoodie and ripped jeans that matched with a pair of motorcycle boots. Despite wearing a mask, his eyes sent deep, horrendous message. “If you ever touch Y/N again, I’ll make sure to have all of your bones broken so you can’t do anything in life anymore,” he aggressively grabbed Adrian’s collar this time. “Y/N is mine and mine alone. Don’t you fucking dare come near her.” He released it roughly, spitting on the spot of the ground next to Adrian and leaving him alone as he walked away. It was an unfortunate night for Adrian, no one was there to rescue him and call for help.

••••••

{10.11 p.m. in your room}

Ding! You groaned, knowing whose message this was from. You rolled your eyes as you read the person’s texts. 

unknown [now]: i’m feeling so happy right now

unknown [now]: you have no idea how happy i really am 🥰

You shook your head and scoffed whilst reading them. Who even decided to care whether this unknown person was happy or not? Definitely not you.

you [now]: Lmao do I even care if you’re happy or not though? All I know is that you’re crazy

Ding!

unknown [now]: i am crazy indeed

unknown [now]: crazy about you

You groaned in annoyance at this unknown person’s response, not wanting to reply anymore. But then as you were about to place your phone on your side table, there was another notification from that person.

unknown [now]: i’m happy because soon enough, i’ll have you in my arms. no one’s gonna rescue you from me 

“What the absolute fuck?” you got up and this time feeling so angry to the point you were having typos as you typed your words in all capital letters.

you [now]: GO FUCK YOURSELF WHOSVER YOU ARE, QUIT BUGFING

ME!! 

you [now]: I’M GONNA BLOCK YOU NOW, YOU CNT DO THIS TO ME

Heaving a sigh, you grabbed a pillow and stuffed it on your face, screaming as loud as you intended. 

Ding!

unknown [now]: you can try blocking me

unknown [now]: but i have a lot more phones that i’ve stolen and your number is saved in every phone i keep 

unknown [now]: like i said, twinkle toes. no one’s gonna rescue you and take you away from me 😉

This time as your courage was already built, you dialed this person’s number but they quickly rejected your call. You tried again and you got the same result; your call was rejected.

you [now]: What’s the matter, huh? No balls to answer my call???

unknown [now]: i’m not going to make you hear my voice yet, princess. where’s the fun in that? 

unknown [now]: i’m saving it for our date soon

you [now]: Screw you, you fucking creep

unknown [now]: damn, say that again 

you [now]: FUCKING SCREW YOU!

unknown [now]: i’d love to be screwed by the one and only Y/N 😍

You were scared again. Not only this person secretly got your number, but he knew your name too! This was another whole new level of creepy! 

You shut your phone off, not wanting to take this conversation further with that creeper. You closed your eyes tightly to move yourself in your dreamland, and thankfully, it was successful.

••••••

{Meanwhile at someone’s place}

He watched you through the one of the screens in his room. You had no idea about this at all, but this stalker had already placed a few cameras in your house. One specific camera he always watched was outside the window of your room so he could have a clearer and nicer view of your sleeping face.

“My God, she’s so beautiful,” he said as he attentively watched you sleeping. He was playing with his fingers as his eagerness started to bloom. He was starting to feel desperate now, wanting to touch you, wanting to hold you in his arms, wanting to kiss you until you’re unable to breathe.

“don’t worry, my Y/N. You’ll be in the arms of Jeon Jungkook’s soon.” Jungkook started to smirk with the dirty thoughts of you forming in his head. He really, really, really couldn’t wait to smother you with his kisses. ....once he catches you.

••••••

The next day at school felt so weird as you found Adrian absent. Adrian wasn’t the type of a person who’d miss a day at school, but today he decided to do that. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you looked around for him. Weird. Where is he? you thought.

Ding! “Gosh, what the fuck does he want now?!” You opened to see who the notification was from, but thankfully it was from Suzie.

suzie patootie [now]: bubs, wanna hangout tonight? mum’s having a date with her 5th boyf. house is free for us girls

you [now]: Girls night, eh? I’m on

This girls’ night was all you needed to avoid feeling scared as you were right now. Sure, you were feeling brave already to confront that person through messages but you were still scared too. What if that person was watching your every move right now and you weren’t aware of it?

••••••

You decided to head to grocery store to buy some foodies and drinks for your girls’ night. You didn’t bother to head home first to take a shower since you knew that this girls’ night would be a sleepless night for you, anyway. 

As you walked out from the grocery store to head your way to Suzie’s home, the footsteps were heard again. You stopped your tracks. Oh no. What if this is that person? You were standing still and the footsteps stopped too. You didn’t care and you walked forward quickly and the footsteps got faster following you from behind. 

You started running and the follower chased after you so quick until he finally caught you, locking you in his strong arms. 

“Don’t run away from me, Y/N,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your earlobe and you started to cry. “didn’t I say I’d have you in my arms soon?” 

Before you could scream, he covered your mouth quickly and dragged you backwards with him to an unknown place while holding you tightly. 

“No one’s gonna save you. You’re all mine now, twinkle toes.”

[pappydaddy]

Heather Part Two (j.m.)

A/N: Okay, so I have decided to start saying as little as possible in my A/Ns just to see if it brings in more interaction, if you guys want me to continue my ramblings, just shoot me a DM or something and I won’t stop them. This is a repost bc nobody saw this the first time?? Pls interact with this (preferably reblogging, but likes are good too!) 

 Anywho, this is the second part of Heather (my JJ imagine based on Heather by Conan Gray) and this is told from JJ’s perspective, I got this idea when I found this kinda parody/cover of the original song which will be linked below. I put some different scenes in this one too so it’s not just a retelling of my first part. Anyway, enjoy!!

Show/Movie: Outer Banks

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Warnings: Sad, angst, longing, negative thoughts about oneself (appearance, personality, etc), comparing to other people, jealousy, unspoken feelings

Might do a part three? I’ll probably do a part three.

Heather Cover by Zachary Tay

Part One | Part Two - You’re here!

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation

- not my gif -

  He didn’t technically see her when she arrived at the beach, but he still knew she was there before she wandered down the dunes. He couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, trying to get a peek of her. There she was, her shoes swinging by her side, her hair blowing in the wind as she walked. She didn’t look towards the group of her friends, instead, she scanned the beach and JJ found himself missing her gorgeous eyes. He watched her, her eyes slowly drifting towards the fire JJ sat at. In a spilt second, their eyes connected and JJ wished he could stay in her gaze forever, but her eyes were ripped from his as she breezed past the group.

 The girl under his arm laughed loudly, making him draw his eyes away from Y/N. He looked at the black-haired girl (Heather) donned in his sweater, clinging to him as she laughed at something John B had said. “What’s so funny,” JJ asked, trying to play off his absence. He didn’t really listen to John B’s recount. “Oh, must have had to heard it in the moment, I guess.” He mumbled, his eyes following Y/N as Jack, her co-worker from The Wreck ran towards her, a large smile on his face. He took in Y/N’s appearance, the sweater she wore was too big for her, it certainly wasn’t hers. It dawned on him like a lighting strike; it was Jack’s sweater. He felt a pang in his heart, remembering how she looked in his own sweater, the very sweater Heather wore right in that moment.

 He remembered how good Y/N looked in his sweater and how often she wore it after he had given it to her. On Heather, it was just a piece of polyester fabric, but on Y/N, it was much more than just a sweater. The day she gave his sweater back to him was the day he concluded that she didn’t like him. He couldn’t imagine how he even thought she would like him, he’s not even good enough for his father and he could barely stand himself. How the hell would Y/N want him if he didn’t even want himself? He didn’t even understand how Heather liked him.

 His eyes followed Jack as he ran off once again, obviously apologizing profusely to Y/N. Jack was everything JJ wasn’t: sweet, smart, hard-working, career driven, and loved. JJ wanted to hate Jack, but he couldn’t, he was too good of a person. He could see that Y/N and Jack would make a good couple, he could see why Y/N would have her gaze set on him. His dark hair, his tall stature, his boy-next-door smile - he was the complete package.

 Setting his eyes on Y/N yet again, he saw her sit down on a piece of driftwood, staring out at the ocean as the waves lapped up towards her barefeet. He let himself imagine that the sweater she was wrapped up in was his. He often replayed the December night he gave his sweater to her in his head, imagining that he had actually done what he wanted - kissing her. He liked to live in that alternate story at night, laying in his bed. He sighed, glad he didn’t kiss her in the long-run, for he didn’t know who he liked more: Y/N or Heather. “JJ, you should tell Heather about that one time when John B was high off his ass when CPS came knocking on his door.” Kie laughed, capturing JJ’s attention from the girl sitting on the driftwood.

 “Oh, uh, yeah, sure.” JJ laughed, remembering that day as he launched into his story. Though his eyes weren’t on her, Y/N still plagued his mind, having been there that day as well, skipping school to smoke with JJ and John B. He laughed as he retold the story, poking fun at John B, but leaving Y/n out of the story, not wanting to pull her into his fling with Heather, knowing there will be drama if he did.

 Though he was immersed in the story he was telling, he still noticed Y/N standing and walking along the beach, leaving the party before it even started. The bleeding colours in the sky made her skin glow with pink and orange, making her look like the figure of beauty. As she walked away, JJ could have cried. He didn’t understand how he, the boy who wanted nothing to do with the messiness of love, ended up in this situation.

____

  The words Kie had told him earlier rattled in his brain like a single pill in a bottle. His mind played that moment back like a movie reel continuously playing. Once it ended, it restarted again. Like a painful torture device used to drive him to the brink of insanity.

 “I don’t get why Y/N keeps avoiding us! We never see her anymore, not since Heather started hanging out with us,” JJ groaned, plunking himself down on the couch dramatically. He had asked Y/N earlier at school (after cornering her at her locker) if she wanted to have a movie night just like old times, but she had told him she was going to study for a big biology test she had. “Why does she even need to study anyway? She’s at the top of her biology class, only second to Pope, of course.” JJ threw in the last comment, pleasing his friend who sat beside him on the couch, a freshly popped bowl of popcorn in his lap.

 “You guys do know why, right?” Kie asked, looking over her shoulder at them as she shifted through the DVD collection, the group deciding to go old school for the night. JJ shook his head while John B and Pope both nodded, making noises of understanding. JJ looked around, confusion clearly painted on his face.

 “Y/N still likes JJ.” Pope commented, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth, chewing it as if what he had just said was common knowledge.

 “What?” JJ asked, panicked, glad that Heather was hanging out with some of her other friends tonight instead of being with them. If she had been here, he would have never be given this piece of information.

 “You didn’t know?” John B asked, bewildered that JJ hadn’t picked up on anything.

 “Obviously not-” JJ cried, his eyes wide.

 “It was obvious, we all thought you had known by at least December third when you gave her your sweater, we thought that was you making your move on her finally.” Kie explained, shrugging.

 JJ still couldn’t believe that. If only he had seen how much she liked him, maybe he wouldn’t be praying for his eyes to catch her’s every time she walked by him. Maybe he wouldn’t want to cry every time they broke eye contact. Maybe he wouldn’t have assumed she likes Jack. He groaned, flopping around in the spare bed at John B’s, staring up at the dark ceiling as moonlight casted the window’s shadow onto the white surface.

 If he had known how much Y/N liked him that night, he wouldn’t be questioning who he liked more still. Maybe he didn’t like Heather at all. Now that he knew that Y/N likes him, he started to realize that maybe he didn’t truly like Heather, instead, only liking the idea of the distraction from the one he really liked. Though he realized this, he couldn’t do anything about it anytime soon. He had plans to eat lunch tomorrow with Heather and the group, he couldn’t break up with Heather at The Wreck.

_____

 Y/N was working today. That was the whole reason they were eating at The Wreck, to see her. John B and Pope missed her, Kie was able to see her during the shifts they shared or during shift changes, but the boys hadn’t seen her. JJ and Heather stood on the deck, leaning against the railing and JJ was giving the performance of his life. He couldn’t have Heather thinking that something was going on with him (he still had no idea who he liked more) so he was trying to act as normal as possible around her despite the fact that a war raged in his mind.

 He tried to keep his eyes on Heather as she talked adamantly. JJ nodded along, not really listening. Heather was beautiful and kind, but JJ grew bored easily. They had nothing in common. He was a surfer, she was from the city filled with concrete buildings and shopping malls. She just didn’t understand the joy in the little things. When JJ wanted to stargaze, she’d rather gaze at a TV screen. When JJ wanted to just sit on the beach and listen to the waves, she wanted to take pictures. When JJ just wanted to sit on his surfboard and let the waves roll under him, she didn’t want to ruin her make-up.

 Her hand squeezed his as she asked him about the stores he shopped at. He, not wanting to ignore her, joined her one-sided conversation and explained his mode of gaining clothes. She listened for the most part, but listening wasn’t really Heather’s strong suit. She loved to talk, not that JJ minded, but he would also like to have a conversation without being interrupted with a completely different story. He shot a glance in through the door, seeing Y/N at a table, talking with the costumers. She nodded, a shining smile on her face. JJ loved talking with Y/N. She’d listen, she’d talk. He’d listen, he’d talk. It was a perfectly balanced conversation with Y/N.

 He looked back down at Heather when she had asked him yet another question, but JJ wasn’t listening. “I’m sorry, what?” He asked, blinking. Heather giggled, thinking JJ was just a spacey type person who stared off in the distance, zoning out easily.

 “I asked about your shark tooth necklace, I’ve always wanted one.” She told him, the hand, that wasn’t in his, reaching up to fiddle with the shark tooth. JJ looked down at it, smiling fondly.

 “My friend made it for me with the shark tooth I found, I’ve never taken it off since they gave it to me.” He left out that it was Y/N who made it for him while she was going through her necklace making phase in middle school. She had made it too big originally, but it was okay since JJ grew since then.

 “Oh, well, maybe I could wear it sometime,” Heather asked flirtatiously. JJ gulped, not knowing what to say. He didn’t want to give it to her, but he didn’t want to start a fight before they ate a meal with his friends in public. Instead of answering, he pressed his lips to her’s in a lingering, long kiss. Heather smiled, giggling against his lips. Pulling away from the kiss, JJ glanced at the parking lot to see if John B and Pope were there yet, but his eyes came up with nothing. Heather shivered as a strong wind blew by them. “I’m a little cold.”

 JJ looked down at her, seeing that she didn’t have his sweater on. It was different, when Y/N had his sweater, she always wore it, or at least brought it, just in case she got cold. Heather didn’t bring it anywhere unless JJ asked about it. Wordlessly, JJ unlaced their fingers, dropping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her towards him. “I wonder if Y/N is cold? She doesn’t have a sweater on, only a t-shirt.” He thought, watching the parking lot out of the corner of his eye. He sighed, trying to clear his mind.

 “Yo! Let’s get some grub! I’m starving,”John B cheered, piling out of the van with Pope who cheered in agreement. JJ pulled away a bit too quick to play it off as normal while John B and Pope jogged up the stairs, their sneakers slapping the wooden deck. They walked right into the restaurant, leaving Heather and JJ to follow them. The bell above the door dinged, making Y/N and Jack look up from what they were doing. JJ looked up, seeing Jack leaning across Y/N, his shoulder touching her torso ever so lightly as he cleaned up spilt water. “Hi, Y/N! Where is your section?” John B asked.

 “Sorry, John B, I’ll have to take your table so she can get cleaned up, next time.” Jack told him, getting another dry towel to try and help her dry her clothes so she wasn’t dripping everywhere. JJ could sense John B’s disappointment, and he had to admit he was a little bit disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to hear Y/N’s sweet voice that he missed so much.

 “Thanks, Jack,” John B nodded his chin in Jack’s direction. “Maybe we’ll talk before we leave, Y/N.” Y/N looked back up from her shirt at the mention of her name, nodding. Their eyes connected as Kie and Heather jumped into a conversation. Every time their eyes connected, it was such a relief to JJ it truly was a sight for sore eyes. Much to his disappointment, their eye contact was gone as fast as it came when Jack interrupted.

 “That should be good, Y/N,” She looked from JJ’s eyes to meet Jack’s. The sight of her eyes connecting with Jack’s made JJ want to cry, missing that tiny connection that seemed to be the extent of their friendship these days. “You should go get changed, I’ll take these to the table for you, table four, right?” The group started to move, but JJ wanted to stay there, see if their eye would meet again before she disappeared to change, but he had to go with them. He was just out of earshot when she replied to Jack who carried the tray of drinks towards table four effortlessly.

____

 He knew he shouldn’t have done this at school. He was kicking himself as Heather weeped, her face in her hands. “I’m sorry, Heather,” He whispered, nervously looking at the crowd watching them. They were stood next to the side of the building, the crowd gathering in the parking lot. He had tried to do it privately, but he also wanted a clean cut. When he saw his sweater in Heather’s hand, he had known that today was the day. “It’s just not working out.” He tried to console her, his fist gripping the sweater he held now.

 The group watching whispered, making JJ roll his eyes. Now he was going to be painted the villain, the heartless asshole who broke up with the girl in front of the whole school even though they just see her weeping and gasping, not the part where JJ was actually considerate for once. Normally, it was a harsh slap to his cheek and a few tears slipping past their eyes as they walked away, not full on sobs. Especially since they were only going out for three weeks - tops.

 Heather looked up from her hands, letting her arms swing at her sides as she glared at JJ. Black streaks of makeup cascading down her cheeks. With a final, harsh glare at JJ, she ran off, the group of people parting to let her through. JJ watched her run, his shoulders deflating at his ruined chance of keeping the break-up private. His eyes landed on one of the pairs of people Heather parted in her haste to escape: Y/N and Jack. They stood side by side, Jack holding both their books in his hands, both their bookbag straps on his shoulders.

 The group quickly dispersed, giving JJ a perfect view of them. He could see Jack say something to Y/N before she said something back, their eyes catching each other, once again making eye contact. JJ was so absorbed in her eyes that he didn’t notice the sympathetic smile she sent his way. It felt like forever as he stared into her eyes, her just staring back. He wanted her to stay, he wanted to stay, but he couldn’t just break-up with Heather and then turn around, rush towards Y/N, sweep her off her feet and profess his love for her - then he would be an asshole.

 “Come on, Y/N, let’s go. We can’t be late for our shift.” JJ heard Jack tell her, forcing her to break away from JJ’s eyes. He felt tears prick his eyes at the loss of their moment. His eyes never left her, once again hoping for their eyes to connect again, even though he had to watch her eyes connect with Jack’s which caused his heart to throb painfully. Watching her turn and walk towards Jack’s pick-up truck was the sight that made him want to die, then the pain in his heart would stop - right? The picture of her sitting in his passanger seat didn’t sit right with JJ. The thump of Jack tossing their books and bags in the bed of his truck made JJ flinch, but he still never took his eyes off Y/N, not even when Jack slipped onto the bench seat beside her, starting his truck and slamming his door.

 His pleas were answered when Y/N turned to gaze out the window, their eyes connecting once again in a fleeting moment before Jack slowly pulled out of the spot, exiting the nearly empty parking lot. JJ watched the truck as it drove down the road, waiting until it was out of his sight before he moved. He found out who he liked more. It was Y/N. It was always Y/N.

[teddy-bear-surprise]

Chapter 2: The First Assignment

Link to the table of contents and disclaimers: 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐲 ✷ 𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢

A/N: Sorry for the long wait :( I just started writing the third chapter so that should be up relatively soon too... It was supposed to be a part of this chapter but I had to separate it bc google docs starts crapping out after like 10 pages

Mitch and Marcel exited the foyer after a long introduction and walked along the clean marble hallway. As Stilinski followed Marcel, he cautiously scanned the walls admiring the outdated yet stylish design. The heels of his oxfords clicked vibrantly with each stride, echoing against the tall ceiling. As their steps approached Genevieve’s hiding spot, she scampered back into her sanctuary. She stole a quick glance into the hallway, locking eyes with Mitch.

The sudden and unintended eye contact with Celestin’s daughter drove a stake through Mitch’s heart and invoked the dozens of warnings that Didier and Hurley had drilled into his head the prior week. Whatever you do, Stilinski, don’t engage with his daughter. Hey, Stilinski, remember that Marcel Celestin will literally rip you to pieces if you fuck up. Don’t forget: if Celestin even suspects you might be interested in his daughter, you’re deader than dead.

Mitch averted his eyes and gave his head a quick shake, ridding himself of the ridiculous internal commentary. He clearly understood the severity and danger of his employment, but he struggled to wrap his head around the notion of a father as overprotective as Marcel. Mitch never had anyone worry about him like that. When he joined the CIA, he was only able to do so because of his complete lack of family, friends, and life. He had always seen himself as expandable to a certain extent. Stilinski would put his life on the line, time after time, because he just could not fathom anything more important than his mission. In attempting to understand Marcel’s neuroticism, Mitch realized that Marcel’s mission was handing off his “business” to Genevieve, and that– like him– Marcel would stop at nothing to see his mission through. Even so, Mitch questioned the validity of the horror stories he had been bombarded with regarding the Celestins.

A lock snapped loudly, bringing Mitch out of his trance, as another one of Marcel’s employees opened the door for them to enter Marcel’s grand office. The walls were lined with glimmering trophies from Marcel’s past and photographs of him and Genevieve; Mitch was struck with surprise to see a mafioso’s office look so ordinary. The floor here was no longer made of stone and was instead a smooth dark wood. In the center of the room there lay a large, illustrious rug with a heavy mahogany desk sitting atop it. On the wall behind the desk, two grand windows brightened the room and gave it life.

Marcel continued walking in front of Stilinski, making his way to the looming chair behind the desk. He sat himself down, motioning across the desk, and told Mitch to take a seat. Mitch pulled out a chair and rested his body weight on the arm as he lowered himself onto the seat. He then leaned forward and looked at Marcel, waiting for further instruction.

“Stilinski,” Celestin began, “After Didier assesses your physical abilities today, I have a job for you. Tomorrow, I want you to take my daughter, Genevieve, to Paris. It’s been years since she’s been to the city and I’m having a soireè next week so she needs a new outfit. Your job is simple, keep her alive, make sure she gets something nice, and obviously don’t fuck up.”

“Of course, Sir. It would be my pleasure.” Mitch replied immediately, though his mind was churning.

“Let’s consider this a gesture of good faith. You get her there and back in one piece and you get to keep your job, you fail and… Well, I think you know what happens then, don’t you?”

Stilinski took a deep breath, “Yes, Sir. I am aware. Thank you for this opportunity, I won’t let you down.”

Celestin nodded his head towards the door, indicating that Mitch should leave. “Good, I wouldn’t want to lose another half-decent guard to incompetency.”

Mitch nodded while he got up and walked to the door. As he reached for the knob, the door swung open and he came face to face with Genevieve. Again. He looked down at her, unintentionally, before quickly backing away and letting her pass in front of him. She kept her eyes on him for another second before waltzing towards her father’s desk.

“One of the guards gave me a note telling me to meet you down here, what’s going on?”

“You know what, Genevieve, you got here just in time. Stilinski, stay here for just another minute and shut the door, will you?”

Stilinski closed the door again, “Yes, Sir.”

“Genevieve, I want you to meet our newest guard, Mitch Stilinski. He’s going to take you into Paris tomorrow to pick some things up for the event I’m planning for next weekend.”

Genevieve turned and glared at Mitch, slightly squinting her eyes, “Really?”

She had not meant it in a rude way, but she was truly shocked that her father would let the ‘new guy’ take her into the city.

“Sorry,” Genevieve continued. “That sounds like a brilliant idea father.”

Marcel smirked and waved his hand, dismissing the both of them. Mitch re-opened the door, holding it open for Genevieve. She walked past him without so much as a glance. Genevieve slipped back into the library, slamming the door loudly behind her.

Mitch, as confused as ever, shut Marcel’s door quietly. He walked rapidly away, trying to figure out where the gym was. He eventually found it, the first door to the right of the foyer, and saw Didier patiently waiting inside. Didier was leaning against a padded wall, wrapping his hands, dressed in a black t-shirt and sweatpants.

Didier greeted him nonchalantly, “So, Stilinski, how’s the first day going?”

“It could be better. Celestin already gave me an assignment and I don’t know if I’m anywhere near ready to take on this kind of responsibility.”

“Well then, you better learn soon.” He chuckled at the quip and rolled his eyes, “I kinda figured that out on my own, Axel. I’m gonna go change but I’ll be back in a minute.”

Stilinski stumbled into the locker room, trying to find the locker with his number on it. When he had been tattooed with the crow on his neck, he was assigned a number. Mitch had been given the number 7 following the death of the original number 7 in a gruesome shoot-out. The number was hidden within the bird’s eye, forever marking him as one of Celestin’s disciples. He scanned up, down, and across until the number 7 caught his eye. It was hidden in the far right corner of the locker room and when he opened it, it contained the same black shirt, pants, and hand wraps that Didier had. Mitch carefully took off his suit, hanging it in the locker, and put on the black ensemble. He wrapped his hands quickly as he walked out of the locker room.

Mitch and Axel sparred for over an hour, neither one could seem to knock the other down long enough to win. It seemed that, though years ago, Hurley’s training had stuck in their minds. Both of their hands were covered in bruises beneath the wraps, only a few punches away from dislocating a knuckle. They panted heavily as they threw punches and kicked at each other with sweat dripping into their eyes. Mitch approached Axel, hoping to win the match with a final punch, but Didier was more experienced and used Mitch’s own momentum against him. He punched Stilinski sharply in the jaw, knocked him onto his back, and held him down with one knee.

“5… 4… 3… 2… 1… I win!” Didier lifted his knee from Mitch’s chest as he stood up.

“You know,” Began Stilinski, “I would normally be mad that you beat me, but I’m so tired right now that I couldn’t care less.”

“Yeah right, Stilinski. I know I hurt your ego.” He held a hand out to Mitch.

Stilinski stood up, “I’m serious, the jet lag, the sparring, and the weird threats… I’m exhausted from all this shit and it’s only day one.”

“You’ll get used to it. Why don’t you tell me more about this new assignment of yours while we do a few miles on the treadmill?”

“Great, running and talking. My two favorite things. I’ll agree to it this once, but only because I don’t have the slightest fucking idea about what to do tomorrow.”

A few rooms down, Genevieve continued obsessively daydreaming about her outing to Paris. She could hardly even remember what stores she used to shop at in the city, let alone how to dress for an event as nice as the one her father was planning. Along the bottom row of the library shelves, there was a handful of fashion magazines, they were all a few seasons old but she figured they would hold up well enough. After all, how much could fashion really change?

Genevieve leafed through the pages, dog-earing the outfits she thought might be appropriate for the occasion. She closed her eyes, letting the sun seep through her eyelids as she pictured herself walking down the long staircase in a shimmering sage dress.

In her mind, the ideal dress would be fuller than full, putting at least two feet between her and everyone else; it was to have a laced corset bodice covered in lilac petals and small beads; and the straps would hang loosely off of her shoulders, brushing her skin ever so slightly. Unfortunately, however, Genevieve knew that it would be impossible to find such a dress on such short notice. She continued flipping through dozens of magazines until dinnertime, jotting down the names of certain shops and designers that were based in Paris, and hoped that one of them might be able to produce a miracle. Soon after, Genevieve’s night came to a close and she drifted off to sleep dreaming about the following day’s adventures.

“Genevieve, my darling, it’s time for you to get up. You’ve got to go into the city to find an outfit. Remember?”

Marcel sat down on Geveieve’s bed, rubbing her shoulder softly. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. At only seven in the morning, the sun had just begun it’s work and shone weakly along the horizon. Its rays reflected off of the curtains and into Genevieve’s eyes, causing her to turn away from the window.

“Yes, I remember.” She sighed with uncertainty, “Papà, I’m not quite sure I’m up for this today. This seems like such a big step to take… for me, and for the new guard.”

Genevieve’s stomach churned and her heart began beating quickly. Suddenly, it felt like the whole world– despite its beauty– had put her into a chokehold. She breathed with shallow gasps, never seeming to get enough oxygen. Her arms grew weak and she laid back down, praying that the horrible feeling would subside.

Her father’s eyebrows furrowed together, “You’ll be okay, my darling. I would never let anything happen to you. I promise.”

Marcel got up and opened Genevieve’s door, calling out for someone to bring a glass of water.

“But what if something did happen? What if…”

Marcel cut her off, “I know you’re anxious. I know, but give it an hour, and then you can decide if you want to go or not.”

His words, while not very helpful, provided some comfort. For some reason, Genevieve had a nasty habit of developing nauseating anxiety in the early morning. It had been happening since she was a child, but as she had not woken up before nine am in many years, she had grown unaccustomed to the feeling. It used to just set her back by a few minutes, only occasionally proving to be a real problem. Now, however, Genevieve felt like she had been hit by a two-ton garbage truck.

The same man who had brought her lunch yesterday walked in with a tall glass of water. He handed it to Genevieve who sipped on it slowly.

“Well, I’ll be in my office if you need anything. I’ll check back in an hour to see how you are. Sebastien, let’s go.” Her father patted her head and walked out, Sebastien closing the door behind them.

Genevieve sat up and leaned against the wall, breathing deeply and naming everything in her vicinity. She saw her bed, her hands, the door, the windows, and the glass of water on her bedside table. Her skin felt the cool fabric of her bed, the cold glass between her palms, the single feather poking out of her pillow, and the wall behind her head. Her ears could pick out the faint sound of voices outside, birds chirping, and the wind blowing. With each inhale, she could smell breakfast being made in the kitchen mixing with the fresh scent of her bedsheets. Taking a sip of water, she noted that she didn’t quite taste anything, but that always seemed to happen when she got to the last step.

During the next fifty-five minutes Genevieve’s breath became more natural and her heartbeat slowed. Still leaning against the wall, she bent over to place the empty water glass on her bedside table, wondering why she held onto it for so long. Her father came in soon after as if he had telepathically sensed her newfound calm.

He sat beside her, taking her hand in his, “So, was I right? Are you feeling better now, Genevieve?”

“Yeah, I guess I do feel better.” She let a small smirk take over her face.

“See, daughter, all you needed was some time. That is our most precious resource. Not our money, not our network, not our assassins… It’s the one we take the most for granted, our time. One day, you’ll see just how little time we really have.” Marcel let go of her hand, “Now, you go on into the city to find something nice to wear.”

Genevieve stood up and ushered her father out. She figured it was time to get dressed since she had already wasted so much time. After changing, she brushed her teeth and rushed downstairs, hoping to make the most of her time. While Genevieve was not necessarily excited to be going shopping, it was an opportunity that she had not been able to experience in a long time.

Her father led her to a car that was waiting out front with Mitch behind the wheel. He tilted his head down by an inch when he noticed her as a sign of respect. Genevieve slid into the back seat quietly, pulling her backpack over her knees. As she looked back towards him, Marcel shut the car door and gave her a soft smile. He patted the side of the car and Mitch slowly drove away, the sounds of gravel crunching beneath the tires. Genevieve turned solemnly towards her home, watching it shrink into the horizon. This outing was a new type of adventure for both herself and Mitch, and neither of them knew what to expect.

[ditch-witches]

Insufferable (i) - George MacKay x reader

(PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 4)

requested: yes/no (im so sorry this took so long holy scheisse, there are so many parts too)

Thank you so much to our first Instagram request! @/okay.l0z I had a lot of fun with this and had to channel Ryan and Hannah's angst to help me.

"Hi! I've been reading your fics and I love them so much bc there's hardly any around. I was wondering if you take insta requests and if so can you do one with George and the reader are like enemies to loves and they have really cute moments but then end up fighting all the time and then it escalates and they end up having sEx and then get together or something bc I will THRIVE IF YOU DO!" ... "Is it bad if I want it long ass?"

also I thought about this like,,, a lot,,,

pairing: George MacKay x reader

warnings: slow-burn introduction bAsIcalLy, I think there are swear words?

word count: 2,629

a/n: There are several things to be addressed...

accuracy to George's life is like 0/100 - scratch that, they have the same hair color

think of this as an AU because idk how else to explain it

it's a slow burn. if you need something that isn't, check the next imagine over and give it a reblog.

You put your chin in your hand and furrowed your brows as you listened to the actors in front of you. The bright stage lights kept you at a suffocatingly hot temperature, but at this point, you didn't mind. What your main concern for the scene was simple: your leading actor was George MacKay. You had spent constant, stressful hours trying to convince the director of the show that he was not the choice, yet when it came down to it, what he said went, and you had to deal with the cleaning up. Today was not like any other. An almost two-hour practice, script work, lighting, etc, were all thrown at the actors still attempting to memorize their lines.

But it was this part, in particular, that was becoming the most difficult. Maybe it was because you were the ghostwriter of the script and the director was trampling on all of your ideas and dreams with a man that you could one-hundred-percent deem an enemy. Your lead character, Charlie, had a soft side to him, despite having an overpowering sense of the dangers of the world and a body to match. George wasn't Charlie. George was one of the lost boys from Peter Pan and that's all you could see him as. He needed to grow up and be a pirate with only two motives: breaking the chains of the dystopian government regime keeping him away from his wife and captaining the deadly sea creature infested waters and getting back to his wife in one piece.

But George's motives seemed to be entirely set on getting into his co-star's pants.

His cocky attitude and facade of charm made you want to rip your hair out. Sure, he took his job seriously and had several esteemed colleagues of yours raving about him, but this role wasn't his. It didn't help that you knew him from primary school, of all places, and once he found out, that's all he could bring up around you.

George rolled his sleeves and dragged a hand through his thick, red hair, the veins in his arm becoming rather predominant as he did so. He was damn near playing footsie with the girl in front of him; their flirty gazes bouncing from each other to the crumpled scripts in their hands. You rolled your eyes, feeling as if your team could see the steam rolling off your shoulders. The director was doing nothing, merely smiling giddily at the two tearing the scene to shreds. "Stop," you took the reins, standing up from your position on stage and tossing your script down. You stepped over to the two and the director didn't move an inch. "What are you doing?" You nipped, crossing your arms and stepping between George and his co-star.

He towered over you by miles; you weren't sure if this made him feel the superiority he exuded, but you always made sure to square your shoulders when you talked to him. "What do you mean? We're practicing," he slyly stated, sending a wink over your head to the girl.

You took the script from his hands, flipping a few pages to the scene they were supposed to be working on. He smirked down at you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he watched you scan the page. His script was well-loved and worn as if it had been in his back pocket repeatedly, flipped through, folded, torn and taped, highlighted and annotated. You tried not to blush at the notes he had taken as if he had actually cared about his role. Notes such as movements and relative emotions were noted as if they were suggestions. You wet your lips, feeling George's easy-going gaze on you the whole time. "... Charlie, we have to get out of here..." You began, your eyes meeting his deep blue ones.

His face fell into a stern expression, his arms crossing heavily with a furrowed brow. "We've only just got here. I'm shipping out tomorrow. There's no way the Republic-" His Scottish accent was surprisingly thick and consistent. He was settling into Charlie.

"I don't care anymore. I'm tired of sitting idly by and watching you throw yourself away for a debt your brother can't repay." You swore you saw an actual feeling of hurt flash behind his eyes.

He chewed the inside of his cheek. "That debt is just as much mine as it is his. You're asking me to uproot and leave him, you know? I can't leave him."

"You'll die. You'll end up like the rest of the mariners haunting their wives for the rest of eternity. You're a slave." George took a few steps to stand in front of you, he was close enough that you could smell his cologne now: a sweet mix of sandalwood with hints of lavender. He smelled like a summer day spent at a cabin in the middle of a meadow. You hated it, but you wanted to bury yourself in his chest and bask in his scent for the remainder of your days.

He rested a hand on your neck, angling your face towards him as he whispered, "Look at me..." You attempted to ignore the beating of your heart in your ears and the sweat that began to spread across your back. "I'm free. I'm choosing this debt because, without it, he would die. He's the last piece of my father I have left."

You reached for his hand, covering it with your own. "What about me, Charlie? I'm here now. I'm flesh and blood in front of you. What about our child?"

"He'll be here when I get back." He pushed away from you, turning his back on you and settling his hands on his hips. "I'm not changing my mind." He looked over his shoulder at you. "Eden, I have to do this." You closed the script with a raised eyebrow, hiding how impressed you were that he actually knew his lines. The emotion he was conveying was nothing like how he had previously let on. You walked towards him and he turned back around. You pressed the script back into his hands and gave him a small glare.

"Practice how you play. I'm done with wasting time," you said more to the group than just him. The rest of the cast members weren't as proficient in hiding their amusement back as you were. The last thing George needed was another inflate to his ego. You went back to your spot, grabbing your clipboard and flipping over a few pages. The group began to gather around you slightly. "I need Eden and Charlie in with wardrobe now, the rest of you keep practicing your lines. I'll want to hear dialogue from Dane and Jack tomorrow. Give me another forty or so minutes and we'll call it?" The director nodded from the first row of seats. The crowd dispersed but George swam against the current of thespians, approaching you again.

He gave you one of his charming smiles. Be professional, you thought. "I was just wondering how that sounded to you?"

You thought for a moment, drawing the clipboard to your chest. "Yeah, it was good. Your accent's a bit dodgy, but the emotion is good. Why don't we see that during actual rehearsals?" You tilted your head at him and he looked at his shoes slightly, tucking his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Was he pretending to be humble?

"I don't know. I guess I like you more as Eden," he jeered, causing you to roll your eyes and he smiled wider.

"You're insufferable," you muttered, walking past him.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll grow on you."

You scoffed slightly. "Go get fitted for suspenders and leave me alone, MacKay."

The next few days were full of constant rehearsals both in costume and script memorization. You had to admit that for some reason this show had you wrapped in a bundle of tension and anxiety. George slowly tore away at your nerves, becoming his own mess of anger and frustration as he picked up more and more on the fact that you weren't going to take his shit. You were serious about this job and you were serious about this play. His humor had diminished as it had gotten closer and closer to opening night and you weren't surprised when he would snap back at you for making an adjustment to his tone or a note on the delivery of a line.

"Stop being such a bitch!" He groaned, tugging at his hair as you crossed your arms.

"Calm down, primadonna! All I'm saying is quit pacing! Charlie isn't pacing! Where in the script does it say he's pacing-"

"THAT'S RIDICULOUS. IT DOESN'T MATTER." He moved to stand in front of you, his teeth gritting slightly. This was what your discussion had grown into, one hissy fit flaring up the other.

"FUCK, YOU'RE RIGHT. I TOTALLY FORGOT YOU WERE THE ONE IN CHARGE, MR. MACKAY. SHOULD I JUST SUCK YOUR DICK RIGHT NOW SINCE WE'RE ALREADY ADDING IN UNNECESSARY ACTION," you would bite back causing him to glare up at the ceiling with his jaw clenching in a sarcastic smile. He wore your patience thinner than tulle. And you were hoping to be doing the same to him.

On the eve of opening night, a storm broke out over the city. You hadn't received word from your ride at all---a man you had been seeing on and off for a while, but still managed to keep him at enough distance that the two of you weren't official. You glared at your watch, deciding to say fuck it and just walk the five or so miles it was to your apartment. Your rain jacket was already soaked, your umbrella proving to be no help whatsoever. But you persevered knowing full-well that if your character, Eden, were in the situation, she wouldn't have batted an eye before dropping him and his lack of communication. As the water soaked into your boots and chilled you rather quickly, you bit your tongue, regretting not waiting for the bus. Cars past you at rushed paces, wanting to get home to their loved ones if the rain worsened---you figured.

Your heart began to pound as a car pulled up beside you, causing you to wrap your hand around the bottle of mace in your coat pocket. The window rolled down, but you kept walking. "Do you need a ride?" Hollered an almost too familiar voice.

You crossed your arms and continued to walk. "No!" You called back.

The car rolled forward and you heard the driver door open. George stepped out slightly, drawing his jacket up to fight against the biting wind. "Come on! Look at this weather!"

"I'm good! Go home, George!"

He tilted his head at you with a deadpan expression. "Don't make me throw you over my shoulder." You furrowed your brows and rolled your eyes, sliding into the passenger seat of his car and taking down your hood. George watched as you did this. He slipped off his jacket. "Here." He pulled his hoodie over his head. "Take your shirt off. You'll get hypothermia."

"Excuse me?" You nipped.

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "I won't look. You're soaked. Take my damn hoodie." You looked out the front window and then let out a huff. You peeled off your upper layer, no longer giving a fuck if George saw you in your bra. You looked over to him while he leaned his arm against his door, his cheek resting against his fist as he held his hoodie out to you. You pulled the garment over your head and couldn't help but snuggle into it. It was oversized and warm, smelling just like George. Your cold skin seemed to sigh against the soft material and you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes at how content you were. George put the car into drive after he had made sure you were taken care of. You slipped your hands into the long sleeves and fought not to dig your nose into the neckline to breathe him in. His scent was like kryptonite to you and you hated it. "Are you hungry?" He asked, looking at you briefly and flipping the heat more to your side. He smiled almost proudly to himself at the sight of you enjoying his hoodie and the safety of his car.

You quickly braided your hair, attempting to combat the wet feeling of it against your neck. "No, I'm fine thanks."

"Come on. My treat? I've been a dick to you all week."

"Fine..." You mumbled. He found a nook of a restaurant jabbed into a part of London you had yet to explore. The rain had finally let up to a drizzle as the two of you made your way inside the softly lit eatery. The two of you tucked into a booth and ordered almost instantly, you now realizing just how hungry you actually were. "What were you doing in that part of town so late?" You finally asked after they brought out a hot tea for him and topped off your coffee. His large hands cradled the steaming mug in front of him, his nose slightly red from the chilly weather outside.

He chuckled slightly. "I forgot my script in the theatre and---for some reason---couldn't stop thinking about it." You nodded hesitantly. "Why were you walking home?"

You shrugged nonchalantly. "Such beautiful weather we're having. Thought I would take an evening stroll," you joked, causing him to chuckle lightly. George's face seemed to glow slightly under the cozy lights of the restaurant, his hair slightly disheveled and damp from the rain. You now got a full sight of the t-shirt he was wearing that commemorated a football team from the graduating year ahead of yours.

There was a beat of silence between you two. "Why..." George tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, attempting to find the right words. You furrowed your brows. "Why do you hate me so much?" If you weren't looking at him, you would have sworn he was smiling behind his question.

"Seriously?"

He nodded. "Seriously."

"You dated my best friend, Sophie, and broke her heart," you answered bluntly.

George sent you a puzzled expression for half a second before grinning slightly. "Yeah, but I was ten."

"Yeah, but now she's twenty-one and we still talk about it," you quipped, taking a sip of your coffee.

He exhaled. "I was... I was ten..." He furrowed his brows. "She was pretty. Hasn't some other guy broken up with her since me?"

You shrugged again. "No, she has this mindset where if she starts getting the feeling that things aren't working, she cuts out."

"She's been dwelling over me for how many years?" He couldn't fight the grin threatening to creep across his face.

You bit the inside of your cheek in thought. "I guess that would be twelve years." He whistled. "We're good at keeping grudges."

"Well, if I ever run into her, I'll apologize." He added a lump of sugar to his tea. "Is that the only reason?"

You debated ripping him a new one, but the tiredness you felt reflected in his eyes. "It's the kick-off point. Why? Do you wanna be buddies now?" You joked, sticking your spoon in your mouth.

He rested his hand in his chin. "Nah," he pursed his lips in thought. You furrowed your eyebrows at his answer, letting a titter escape your lips. "You're too young for me." You laughed a bit harder.

"Age is just a number, baby," you hummed and he smirked at you, a sparkle in his eye.

Comment if you would like to be tagged in the next part! Let us know what you think!

[whatmack]

UR MATTNEIL....... I MSOBBING

!!!!! AHHH <3had to post this rn bc it was really getting too long for how I’m formatting this series (why doth my fingers write with such long winds): have some loving neil hours in this house

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“You’re going to be a hot mess,” Allison promises over the phone.“Thanks,” Neil says sardonically, juggling the phone to his other shoulder sohe can fit another piece into the puzzle spread over the coffee table. Andrewhas made a game of finding the most psychedelic, difficult to look at puzzleshe can and spreading them over useful surfaces. He gets bored with themquickly, so they remain half-finished unless Neil makes an effort to completethem.“You know I love you,” says Allison. “But you’ve been dating one person, sincelike, forever. You’re like a little baby bird again.”Neil’s fairly certain that’s another insult. He squints at a swirl of glitterypink and tries to see if the shape matches any of the loose pieces he’sarranged in front of him. “It’s Matt.”“Exactly,” Allison coos. “I was there when he won Dan. You have no idea whatyou’re in for, chickadee. No, Parker, down!”Rustling and barking come through the other end. Renee and Allison arefostering hypoallergenic seeing eye dogs, because Renee is a good person andAllison gets hives around anything with fur. Allison pretends she hates the work.Neil sees through her. He’s had practice.“But we already know each other,” Neil says, pushing sternly down on theanxiety rising in his chest. He tries a piece against the edge of the pinkswirl. Nope. “It’s not like we have to make a good impression.”“Just you wait,” Allison says ominously, which doesn’t help Neil’s anxiety atall.Thankfully Neil is too tired to be nervous when he gets off the plane,stumbling from the baggage claim into Dan and Matt’s waiting arms. Checkingbaggage is old hat by now, and he spares a thought to wonder at it as he letsDan sling the case protecting his Exy stick over her back and Matt take overhis carry-on. He falls asleep on Matt’s shoulder in the back seat.

He gets set up in the guest bedroom, same as usual, and it’s not until the nextmorning that Neil thinks to wonder if he should’ve expected to stay in themaster with Matt (and Dan). He flips over onto his back and stares up at thestippled ceiling. It’s not like he’s never slept beside them before, during Foxsleepovers or accidental naps on the couch. Thinking about doing the same thingnow, in this context, gives rise to a squirmy feeling that isn’t quitecomfortable. Not bad, but not good, either. He decides he’s glad he slept inthe guest bedroom this time.The smell of coffee and frying butter beckons him from the kitchen. Neil wrapshimself in a blanket (Matt likes the apartment so cold, he and Dan agree it’s terrible) and makes his way into theopen. Dan is flipping pancakes on the stove, Matt reading from his phone at thetable. Matt’s eyes light up when he sees Neil.“I was hoping I would catch you before I had to leave today! Good morning,” headds as an afterthought, scooting his chair over to leave room for Neil. Neilgrabs the open seat and sits in it crosslegged, drawing the blanket up over hishead. He makes eyes at the three mugs waiting by the coffee maker.“I’m hungry,” Matt whines, leaning back to nuzzle his face into Dan’s back. Shepokes him with the butt of the spatula, shooting Neil a look that says can you believe this guy?“You rush pancakes, you get shit pancakes,” she says. “I know how to cook onething and I’m gonna do it right. Morning, Neil. Coffee?”“Yes.”Matt has practice for most of the day (he’s apologetic, which Neil finds silly,because he’s the last person to think that’s a bad excuse), but it’s a schoolholiday so Dan stays at the apartment with Neil and her playbook. Shegravitates from the table to the couch to the floor to the table again,watching replays on her laptop and taking copious notes. There are fivedifferent pens in her hair before she starts running out of space.With the nonstop rush Neil’s life usually is, Neil is happy to take upresidence spread-eagle in the middle of the rug. He rambles on to Dan about histeammates. He flips through channels until he finds a sepia-steeped Westernmovie and decides it’s good enough. He texts Andrew, and gets back a picture ofthe new cat (whom Matt has finally decided to name “Thunderkick 3000;” Neil andAndrew usually just call him “Teddy”) hanging from a claw snagged in Andrew’sarmband. Dan calls him over for his opinion on her players, and Neil advisesher happily. Though she does keep reminding him that these are freshmen, nothis professional colleagues. Neil keeps reminding her that they’ve got to learn sometime.He doesn’t remember to be nervous until Dan points to the threadbare shirt andpair of (Andrew’s) sweatpants he’s been wearing all day and asks, “Matt’salmost home. Is that really what you’re going out in tonight?”A swift kick to the gut would make him less suddenly nauseous. Neil knows fromexperience. “I don’t know where we’re going.”“He didn’t say to dress fancy,” Dan says, propping her hands on her hips andscanning Neil from head to toe. Neil’s skin prickles. “You’ll probably be goodwith jeans. As long as they’re not fifty years old or ripped. My man’s a classyone.”“Since when?” Dan sticks out her tongue and implies something rude about Neil’s parentage,which all things considered might even be true.She is Neil’s family, though, so she cuddles him on the couch after he getschanged until Matt comes home. The rush of warm air from outside and Matt’sheavy footsteps announce him plainly, but neither of them move until Matt tipshis head over the back of the couch, shaking his sweaty headband onto Dan’sstomach. Dan picks it up and snaps it back into his face. “Ewww,” she says, grinning.“I kinda like coming home to my two favorite people,” Matt says, and whileNeil’s face goes hot he leans down to kiss Dan hello. Neil’s instinct is tolook at his feet, but their faces are in the way and so that would becounterproductive. Well, why should he? Didn’t he and Matt agree that they were going to kiss whenthey saw each other again? Habit makes Neil stop before reaching up, tucking his hands behind his back.“Do I get one too?”“Wh—oh,” Matt says, hand flying up to cover his face. “I. Not yet? Is thatokay?” His voice gets squeakier, so at the end he sounds like a cartooncharacter.“Okay,” says Neil. He starts to ask where they’re going, but Matt stops himwith a hand on his arm.“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he says. “Like. I’m totally still down withkissing. Kissing’s great!” The last time Neil saw Matt bouncing around on his feet that much, it wasbecause he had to go to the bathroom; that doesn’t fit, here.“You’re just a romantic,” Dan teases,and there’s the gut-kick again. Neil’s arms tighten around Dan. She pats him.“You good?”“Mmhm,” Neil says into the pens sticking out of her head.“We don’t have to go out tonight,” Matt says, concerned. 

 That sounds awful.“I’m good. I promise!” 

“Really? Because—”

“Shut up. Where are we going?” Neil says, quickly, before any more argumentscan come through. “Is this okay? What I’m wearing.” Dan shifts to the side soMatt can get the full view. 

“Perfect,” Matt says, all bright white teeth, and oh, Neil wants Matt to lookat him like that and say nice things about him forever. 

After a shower and change himself (“He looks hot in his uniform, doesn’t he?”Dan says to Neil, winking, and Neil feels a quiet thrill when he answers, “Yeah”),Matt slings a jacket over his shoulder and offers Neil his hand. Neil takes it,comforted by the familiar gesture. Matt smells like hair gel and soap andcologne, and Neil presses his face into Matt’s shirt in appreciation.“Drive safe,” Dan says, opening the door for them. She pecks them both on thecheek, stretching up for Matt and leaning down for Neil. “Have fun, you two.”“Don’t blow up the house when I’m not here to see,” Matt responds, and they’reoff, carried down the stairs to the parking garage on Dan’s laugh.

[lxveille]

Wonwoo + Number 19 + Soulmate!AU

title: implicationswc: ~ 1600a/n: it’s a soulmate marks au, but also lowkey a dystopian au. (bc my anti-soulmates self couldn’t help myself whoOPS). but anyway!! i actually really enjoyed getting to play around with this plot and world idea so thank you for sending it in❤

You see it on the news at work. It’s already nearly the end of your shift; no one seems to really notice the way you’re suddenly staring at the TV screen hanging up in the corner of the diner. There’s footage of him being brought into custody while a reporter explains he was arrested in the unmatched housing he lived in. Tonight, though, he would be in jail.

Authorities are uncertain if they’ll be able to find the suspect’s soulmate; it’s predicted he’ll be tried as a halfsoul citizen, but anyone with information on a matching soulmark is encouraged to contact the tip line. The number is left up along the bottom of the screen, beneath an artist’s recreation the prisoner’s soulmark. A thick-lined heptagon with a whole web of intersecting lines inside of it.

You only need to count the number of lines. After that, you don’t need to roll up your own sleeve to check. You know. Dread creeps down your spine, and you check the clock for how much longer you have before you can clock out.

The rain makes you walk home faster than planned. Some part of you feels like you shouldn’t rush. That it will make you look suspicious. The other half of you knows this isn’t a rational thought. It’s not as if someone will look at a stranger running down the sidewalk and immediately assume they must be in a panic over having found their match. Hope, at least, that they’ll blame it entirely on the pelting rain. And be grateful that you only work six blocks away from Southome.

Southome Hall is one of the smaller unmatched housing buildings in the city. When you’d turned nineteen without having yet found your soulmate, you were relieved to be placed there. It may be an older building, with stairs that creak in places and windows that need to be slammed in order to latch shut, but you’d had no interest in the massive, clinical looking unmatched homes that the government started putting up in recent years.

You take your keys out when you’re still half a block away. The steps up to the front door are slick with water. There’s a puddle already formed in the chipped-away hole in the stonework of the middle stair; you realize it too late, just as your left shoe submerges directly into it. With a groan, you try to shake some of the water off as you move up to the landing and push your key into the lock.

Inside the entryway, you can still hear the rain clearly against the windows. It’s quiet in Southome. For what feels like the first time since you hurried out of the diner, you take a deep breath. And let it out again as you try to rub off some wetness from the bottom of your shoes on the entry mat. Your eyes scan over the bulletin board as you do, taking in the various pictures of soulmarks posted on it, with contact information desperately attached to each one. There had been a time, shortly after you first moved in, where you’d thought about sending your own out to other unmatched housings’ boards. It’s been a long time since you’d seriously considered doing it. And now – a part of you is endless relieved you never had.

When you start off down the hallway, it isn’t your room you’re heading towards.

The way Wonwoo looks you over upon opening his door suggests he can already tell something’s wrong. He doesn’t say anything more than ‘hey’ before stepping inside to let you into his place.

It’s dim in his apartment, as usual. One of his overhead lights went out nearly two months ago. The work order still hasn’t been fulfilled. While no one has told him the reason why directly, you both already know it’s because Wonwoo isn’t proactive enough in finding his match for the superintendent’s tastes.

“You should’ve taken an umbrella with you today,” he tells you. At the same time, he pulls a folded up towel off from the shelf above his desk in the corner of the room and throws it your way. It unfurls midair, but you manage to catch it all the same. You press your face into the soft fabric, and try to convince yourself not to cry. When you’re confident you won’t break down immediately, you spread the towel out on chair before sitting down yourself. Wonwoo is already sitting on his bed again, sketch pad face down on top of the sheets. He must have been in the middle of some new design when you’d knocked.

“So, what happened?” he asks without any further delay. You slump forward in the chair, and wish you weren’t so easily read. And hope, perhaps, that it’s only Wonwoo who can see through you so easily after all the time the two of you have spent together.

“I saw my matching soulmark today,” you tell him, hastily, like ripping off a bandage. Dread all too prominent in your tone.

He stares for a second. Then asks, “Are you sure?”

Wonwoo, out of anyone, has reason to ask. His own soulmark remarkably similar to yours. When he’d first moved in, you’d even thought at first that he was your soulmate. His was also on the inside of his left wrist – a heptagon with a web of lines inside of it. It took counting the lines and realizing his had 19 crisscrossing lines to realize it wasn’t a match.

Still, you nod. “There were sixteen lines,” you confirm, “I counted.”

He goes silent again. But you, too, can read him to some extent. Enough, at least, to tell that he doesn’t feel he has any right to be upset at your news. That he must be thinking back to when whatever it was the two of you had began, when you used to insist how it would have to end once either one of you finds their soulmate.

“They came into the diner?” He decides to ask for facts to avoid dwelling on his feelings.

“He was on the news. He was arrested.”

A different kind of realization washes over Wonwoo’s face at that. “Are you going to go forward as his match?”

You wish you could sink into the floor. Or, more simply, never leave his room ever again. “He killed three people.” There isn’t much difference at that point between being tried as a halfsoul citizen or not. And given your own record – nothing wrong, but certainly nothing remarkable either – you’d probably just be putting yourself up to get jail time as well if you turned up at the courthouse.

“Shit,” Wonwoo breaths out. He’s already gone a step ahead of your own worries. To how if the match is ever spotted, you could end up in hot water. Even if your soulmate has already been in prison for years by the time anyone realizes.

“I know.” You slump in the chair, and look down at your wrist. The mark is still covered by your shirt and coat sleeves. Knowing it’s there is enough, though.

After some time, Wonwoo shifts on his bed to lean forward some and say, “You know, they don’t keep a record of soulmarks until they’re registered either by a match or an arrest.” He says it like there’s a secret message inside his words he expects you to catch onto. All you can do is shake your head and give him a puzzled work.

“So? He was arrested. It’s probably in the system by now already.”

“His is.” Wonwoo nods. There’s a kind of intensity in his eyes locked upon yours that you’re unfamiliar with. It’s distinctly different from gazes of passion or intrigue or fondness he’s given you before. As if there were something important and incredibly fragile hanging in air between the both of you, and he knew he was about to say something that could shatter it all entirely. “Yours isn’t.”

He gets off the bed, but stays crouched over to stay even with your level. Everything about his demeanor suggests Wonwoo has no desire to say any of this louder than absolutely necessary.

He ends up crouched in front of the chair you’re in, holding his left arm up so you can see his familiar soulmark. With his right hand, he runs a fingertip along one of the lines running through the heptagon, and then along a second one. “I added those both a week after I got my gig at the tattoo parlor.”

It takes a minute for his admission to sink in for you. You lean in closer, searching for a distinction between the lines he claimed to be ink and the ones he’d been born with. It’s an impossible task.

You meet his eyes. There’s a temptation just to throw yourself into his arms and put off thinking about any of this any longer. You stay glued to your seat instead, and shake your head, overwhelmed. “What would I do?” you ask in a whisper.

Wonwoo tries to quell you with a small smile. His hands come to cup your left one, and then one hand is pushing back cloth enough to expose your soulmark. “I’d take care of it,” he promises. With your hand still resting in one of his palms, his other came up to trace three proposed lines into the heptagon already settled on the inside of your wrist. “There’d be no match for them to find.”

His finger runs over the same imagined lines a few more times.

“Get my drift?” he asks once it seems you’ve had enough time to process.

Your mark would match Wonwoo’s instead.

[minsugapie]

Definitely Not Paradise Island

Injured! Jungkook x reader

Plane crash au

Fluff, angst (bc who wouldn’t be angsty in this kinda situation?...)

4553 words

Summary: (Requested) Jungkook and Y/N are stranded on an island with no means of communicating electronically to the world, dead bodies on a plane, and absolutely no way to talk to one another because you don’t speak the same language. Can you fall in love with someone without knowing anything about them?

(Unedited)

Doll X

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You’d simply wanted to get home to your family after a holiday abroad, but luck had never really been on your side, had it?You were never unlucky, per say, but you wouldn’t cal yourself lucky either. 

When you wake up, seatbelt practically cutting off circulation to your legs, and a useless oxygen mask dangling from your neck, you knew you were very unlucky today. Your head was pounding and when you moved the muscles in your face, you could feel the crackling of dried liquid —most probably blood. 

Fumbling with the seatbelt around your waist, you manage to get yourself free of any restraint, but you failed to realize that the plane you boarded with good intentions was currently half filled with salt water. You were one of a few people that weren’t completely covered by either water or other people. 

After a quick scan of the cabin, you realized that you were the sole survivor of this disaster. Moving around with sore muscles, you found that the pilot completely drowned in water. Just when the thought that you should have died as well crossed your brain, you heard a groan from near to where you were initially sitting. 

Whipping your head around, you rush to the back of the plane, jumping through the water and over the dead bodies that you were sure to have nightmares about for the rest of your life. The boy, probably around your age, was stuck between two seats, looking to have possibly a broken leg and one of the deepest gashes you’d ever seen. Not that you’d seen many cuts because the thought of blood kind of made you woozy. 

But now was not the time for being grossed out, and you knew that you needed to help this guy if you had any chance of figuring anything out, and getting help for the both of you. 

“I’m coming, don’t worry.”

“We’ll get you out of here.”

“Please stay calm, I don’t want to hurt you more.”

These three phrases came from your mouth in a disconnected manner. You didn’t even realize that you were the one that was staying calm. It never occurred to you how you’d handle yourself in this sort of situation, but you were doing great. You always assumed yourself to be a panicked person. You always panicked. But now? You were calm and determined. 

The boy mumbled something that was clearly another language than the one you were speaking. 

Korean? That’s what you assumed because of the guy’s nationality. You knew you shouldn’t assume something like that, but now was definitely not the time for little things like that. 

When you were finally able to pull him from the seats with a strength that you didn’t know you possessed, his arms wrapped around your neck and you stood there, hugging for a short moment. There were tears running down his face, and you suddenly felt your own tears start to fall.

After you realized that you were both still in the middle of a plane crash with corpses all around, you dragged the foreign boy to the door and tried to push it open. 

You should have paid more attention to the safety instructions that they gave you before the flight. 

Getting out of the plane with the easy part. However, realizing that you were, in fact, stuck on an uninhabited island made the situation a whole lot more complicated. All you could see on the horizon was water. The island itself didn’t look to be that large either. How had you gotten there?

Scanning around the beach, you saw a stick that looked large enough to be used for walking, so you quickly get it for the boy. He seemed grateful that you were thinking about him, but there was still pain laced through his features. 

You knew nothing about survival. You knew that there was probably no way that you were going to survive this place if you had to actually catch food, find water, and take care of another person. An injured person. 

You took a seat on the sand to think. You had to be rational. You knew that you had to think this through and make a plan. You see the boy sit beside you, also looking out into the wide ocean. Looking at your phone, there was no service, not that you expected there to be. Heck, the radio in the plane was toast too. 

You swallow hard, looking at him before attempting, “Do you understand me?”

He looked from one of your eyes to the other before shaking his head. Ok, this was going to be a lot harder. As if it wasn’t already bad enough. 

Taking a deep breath, you plopped your head on his should and thought. You’d need to make shelter, find sustenance, try to do something about his leg, and find a way to signal to either planes or boats that you were stranded. 

Looking behind you at the forest, you decided that there was no way that you were going to go exploring that tonight. It was already getting later in the afternoon, judging by the placement of the sun, and you didn’t want to be stranded there for the night. For now, you’d stay with this injured boy on the beach, and use some of the leaves and branches that were readily accessible to makeshift something. 

You noticed that he ripped off a part of his shirt and had tied it around the large gash on his thigh. At least he knew slightly what to do in a situation. You were useless.

Popping up, you caught his attention. He looked at you making signals with your hands that you were going to go scavenge the compartments of the plane for other clothes, supplies and anything else that you could get your hands on. 

Nodding his head, he motioned for you to go. 

You walked back to the plane, wanting to conserve as much energy as you could. If you were going to be there for a while, you knew you couldn’t exert yourself too much. You grabbed your bag and his bag (that you assumed was his from where he was sitting) before you through them out the door. What you were really looking for was the packages of crackers and cookies that you’d have to ration. The bottles of water and juice that would provide some sugar and hydration for a while. There was also clearly a necessity for the first aid kit. 

It takes you a couple of trips to get the stuff to a shade area near the trees, where the boy decided to start slowly gathering a small pile of sticks. It was smart. You were definitely going to need a fire. Hopefully there were some matches in the survival kit. It managed to stay out of the water, thank God. Nothing was soaked. 

Taking out a few blankets from the cabin, you make a sort of bed on the ground. You put leaves under the blanket, so it was not directly on the sand. The boy was grateful, and when he thought he got enough wood, at least for the night, he took a seat, wincing at the pain in his leg. 

You immediately went to him with the first aid kit that you found. It had some pain medicine, so you have him that, although it would probably not do much since he likely had a broken bone. You didn’t think that normal painkillers did that much to help. 

You didn’t want to touch his leg, in fear that you’d actually hurt him, but you knew you needed to look at his other wound. He let you take the material from around his leg and rip his pants so more of his thigh was on display. It was bad, but you found something to clean it, and some tape to use as makeshift stitches. There was no way that you were actually going to sew his leg back together. 

He was fine with you tending to him. His hand was placed on your shoulder, and you did feel him squeeze it tightly a few times will you cleaned it. It had to hurt like a bitch. 

Looking up at his face when you finished cleaning, you pointed to yourself and said your name. 

He seemed to understand the gesture, and he returned, “Jungkook.”

You thought the name suited him, and for a brief moment, you noticed how handsome the man really was. If you’d noticed him before, there would have probably thought he was very attractive and maybe flirted with him. But he doesn’t speak your language, and that could have been a problem. 

A small smile appeared on your lips. He reciprocated the action for a second before frowning. He lifted his hand to your forehead, rubbing a finger across the scab that you forgot your had. You were so busy worrying about Jungkook that you forgot that you had been bleeding as well. 

He grabs an identical cleaning pad that you’d used on his and tidied your face of blood. By the look on his face, the gash on your forehead wasn’t small, and he picked a bandaid and put it on your forehead. It was odd, having a stranger take care of you like that, but if you two were going to survive, you had to have each other’s backs. 

Your first night there, you simply made a fire to keep warm, but you knew that you’d have to burn some rubber or plastic to make darker smoke and also make an SOS signal on the beach for planes to see as they passed by. 

You and Jungkook had your own beds at the beginning on the night, but you found that you had already started having nightmares. There were weird noises coming from the jungle beside you, and you’d never spent a night outside in your life. You woke yourself up by crying only to see that Jungkook was already looking at you, making sure that you were fine. You moved your leaves and blanket closer to him to feel more comforted before cuddling in closer to him. You always slept better with another person anyway. 

Not only did Jungkook easily comfort you, but together, you were given more warmth as you slept. 

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A week went by and nothing was working. Planes were passing by regardless of the dark signals you had, and Jungkook’s gash looked like it was getting infected. 

You still had a bunch of crackers and cookies left to eat and a few water bottles, but you knew that you needed to find some meat of some sort, so you decided to let him rest while you went out and tried to catch some fish with an old net that you found in the rocks a few days back. 

It took hours, but you managed to catch a measly fish that would barely feed the two of you —but it was something. 

Jungkook looked at you like you were his saviour when you came back to camp with a fish in your hands. Little did you know but that little look that Jungkook shot you was the beginning of many looks that you’d receive from him. 

After two weeks, you could feel yourself becoming attached to and dependent on him. Although spoken communication was minimal, you two seemed to understand each other physically. 

You decided that the next day you were going to get some of the engine fuel from the plane to see if it would make your signals more visible to the skies. The thought of getting out of there and seeing your loved ones was constantly on the back of your mind, sure, but tonight, when you were laying by the fire beside Jungkook and looking into his eyes, you couldn’t help but think that you were so grateful that you didn’t have to do this alone. You didn’t even want to imagine how lonely you would have been if you were alone. Would you have given up already? 

Jungkook was such a rock for you at this point. You wondered what would happen to the two of your if, when, you got out of there. 

Jungkook’s hand moving from his side to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear startled you from your thoughts. He was looking at you in pain, and you could barely stand to see him like that. 

Pointing to his leg, you asked, “Ow?”

He clenched his teeth, nodded his head and swallowed hard. He was trying to put on a tough act, but you could see through it by now. And seeing him hurting was not something that you enjoyed. You wracked your brain, thinking of ways that you could make him feel better, but all you came up with was something that you wanted that he might not have wanted. 

However, it was all that you could think of. It wasn’t like you had access to ice packs and a medical clinic, after all. Leaning in towards him, you tentatively put your lips on his. You didn’t want to force him into kissing you, but you hoped that maybe kissing would distract him, at least a little bit, from the pain that he was in. He simply needed to think about something other than his broken leg and mildly infected cut. 

He wasn’t at all surprised by your lips on his. Actually, if you hadn’t have known any better, you’d have thought that he was thinking about it, too. Your lips weren’t smooth like they were when you first crashed, and you couldn’t even imagine how chaotic your hair and face looked but you couldn’t have cared less at that moment. 

The hand that had tucked the piece of hair behind your ear grabbed the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss. You missed human contact like this, and you practically had to force yourself not to straddle him. You didn’t want to bring attention to injury when you had just managed to distract him from it. 

The kiss was more than nice, really, because it was desperate. Your teeth and tongues met in fervour, not caring about anything else but the lips of the other person. His teeth were biting your bottom lip, and you moaned into his mouth at his actions. He knew what he was doing, and you wondered if he had a girlfriend back home. You hadn’t been intimate with a man for months before you went abroad because you couldn’t get your stupid ex-boyfriend off your mind, and being this close to Jungkook brought back emotions that you had forgotten you could feel. 

Suddenly, you sat up. It occurred to you that you shouldn’t be getting that close to one another. You lived across the world from each other. You knew absolutely nothing about him, and he knew nothing about you. Heck, you couldn’t even understand each other’s languages. 

You could still feel Jungkook’s lips on yours. A blush was present on your face when he sat up and looked at you worriedly. You had tears in your eyes that you couldn’t explain. You were supposed to be helping him deal with his pain, but here he was, wiping your cheeks of the tears and comforting you without knowing what was wrong. 

You needed to get away from him for a second, but you didn’t want him to think that anything was wrong. Forcing a smile, you try to tell him to rest while you go look in the plane to see if you missed anything. It was something that you’d been avoiding because of all the dead bodies, but the both of you needed clothes, and you wanted to see if there was something more than you could use to try to get the attention of the planes and boats passing by. You were honestly so worried that you were going to die on this island. It was so frustrating that you’d been doing everything you could to make dark smoke signals, have an SOS on the beach for people to see, catching fish and finding whatever I could for us to eat. Jungkook’s condition was not improving. It made you nervous and mad thinking about what could happen to him if he didn’t get help. He would have surely died before you. 

While you were scavenging the plane, you tried to ignore the old, dead bodies, because there were more pressing matters to attend to. You ended up finding a couple carry-ons with clothes and a flare gun!

A flare was going to change your lives. Running back to Jungkook, you found him in the same sitting position in front of the bonfire. The sun was completely set now, and it was getting chilly outside. 

When you plopped down beside him, you put the flare in his lap. He barely spared you a glance, but he picked up the flare and gave a small head nod. You decided that the next time that you saw a boat, you were going to head out. 

He handed you the flare gun, and you put it safely in the back with all the empty medicine bottles. Turning to look at him, you grabbed his hand and laced your hands. He seemed startled by your actions but relaxed into you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. You figured he would at least know that in your language, and by some miracle, he did understand. 

A slight nod to his head when he squeezed your hand, he replied, “I’m sorry too.”

His words were sloppy, but you only turned your head and smiled at him in admiration. Who would have thought that when your plane crashed, you would fall in love, stranded on an uninhabited island. 

With a groan, Jungkook laid back down on the makeshift bed that you had in front of the fire. If you could have, you would have taken all his pain away. Unfortunately, all you could do at this point was pray. Why couldn’t you have gone into something useful in university and not anthropology of all things?

Laying down beside him, you were surprised when he pulled you right into his side. It was there, tucked into his side, head in the crook of his neck, legs wrapped around his one good leg, that you fell asleep. 

It was the most comfortable sleep you had had the entire time on the island, but it was abruptly ended when Jungkook pushed you up and yelled, “Boat! Boat! Boat!”

The sleepiness that you would normally feel after waking up left your body at the words. Getting the flare gun out of the medicine bag, you lit it and set it off in the air, praying that the boat would see you. It was fairly close to the island, so as long as someone was looking in your direction, you probably would have been fine. 

God must have been on your side because not a minute later, the boat’s horn was heard. Jungkook looked elated at the sound, but the boat didn’t look like it was coming any close. It looked like it was simply staying put. Even after 10 minutes, the boat had no moved. Just as you thought that your only opportunity to get off this island passed, you noticed a small motorboat in the distance. You ran to the edge of the water and started waving your hands around, making yourself look as big as possible. 

Jungkook hobbled over to you the best he could, but he’d been getting slower and slower every day. His face was getting sunken in, and he looked ill. His leg was surely killing him at this point. You noticed him and supported his weight as much as possible as the woman, who was driving the speed boat, could finally see your faces clearly. 

————————

The medics on the crew ship took care of you, transferring the two of you to a hospital at the next port stop, but you hadn’t seen Jungkook basically since you two were on the island. You’d found out that the hospital was not equipped to handle his situation, so he was sent back to Korea. They’d give you a plane ticket to get back home to your family as well. 

Apparently, the plane crash had been all over the news and everyone thought that you were dead. Meeting your parents again was emotional to say the least.

However, you couldn’t get Jungkook out of your mind. He was the only one that knew what you went through, that knew what it was like to be on that island, that knew the horrors of thinking that it might be the last day you were alive. You’d seen dead body upon dead body, and it just wasn’t a sight that left one’s mind easily. 

You’d wake up in the middle of the night, screaming and asking for Jungkook. Occasionally, you’d yell things, but nobody knew what you were saying. 

One night, your brother came into your room after your screaming woke her up, and he tried to comfort you. “You can talk to me, you know?”

Tears falling down your cheeks, you replied, “I don’t even know if he made it.” You hadn’t been able to say it out loud until that moment because the thought of Jungkook passing was enough to make you cry all over again, harder this time. 

“The boy that was with you?” He asked, running his fingers through your hair because he knew that it helped to calm you down. 

“I need him. I need Jungkook.” The statement took your brother off guard. Probably because you hadn’t told him that Jungkook was the name of the boy, nor that you became dependent on him within the time on the island. “H-he is the only one that can make my nightmares more bearable, and…and…”

“It’s normal to want to see him. You went through it together,” he whispered, taking you in his arms for a hug. 

“But that’s not it,” you continued, knowing that he wasn’t understanding the depth of your feelings for Jungkook, “in the time we were there, I fell in love with him. I need to find him.”

You brother was silent. You’d admitted to him that you’d never really been in love, although you had been in multiple relationships over the years. Hearing you say that was probably surprising for him. 

“Well then,” he finally said, taking a deep breath, “we better find the man.”

————————

Finding a man, who was essentially without a last name (to you at least) and that was from a different country, was a feat. Really, there was nothing to go off of. 

You eventually found out by getting the records of the passengers on the plane. Word had gotten out that you were trying to find the person that you were with, and the people were actually willing to give you his name, although the rest of his information was confidential. 

Jeon Jungkook. 

A Google search didn’t pop up much about him. The only thing this guy ever posted on the internet were covers of songs on YouTube and a instagram account. You were certain it was him because  when you watched the videos it was the face you had stared at every night for a long time. His instagram was all photography, and there were no pictures of him, but the link in the Youtube video said it was his, so you were going to take your chances.

“That’s him?” Your brother asked from his seat beside you at the kitchen table. You wanted to look him up right after finding out his name, but you had to go to your bi-weekly psychology appointment. 

You nodded, opening up his instagram to message him. When your fingers paused on the keyboard, your brother continued, “What’s the hold up?”

“He only speaks Korean,” you admitted, blushing because you knew you were crazy to fall in love with him when you couldn’t even speak to each other. 

With a small laugh, your brother replied, “He can translate it on the internet. Just tell him your name and whatever else.”

He was right. It was the 21st century after all. There was such thing as translating sentences. 

You simply wrote your name and asked how his leg was doing, praying that he would answer. To show him that it was you, you also sent him a picture of you from on your profile. 

Anyone would have thought that you were a stalker, but they hadn’t been in your position. tHey didn’t understand anything that you and Jungkook were going through. 

You waited and waited for a reply. It took 47 minutes to finally get the little bubbles at the bottom of the chat. All he sent in reply was a phone number and the word facetime.

“How? You can’t talk to each other…” You brother stupidly said from beside you, but you were already plugging in Jungkook’s number and calling him. Really, you just needed to see that he was all right and healthy again. 

The call picked up and the first thing you were greeted with was his smiling face. Not once in the time you’d known him he’d looked that happy. He looked like he wasn’t in pain. A smile formed on your face as you stared at him, only really needing to see him. 

Your brother poked his head into the side of the video, and you saw Jungkook’s smile lessen. You tried to tell him that he was your brother, but it was no use, so you translated it and flashed the screen to your computer to show him. 

He immediately nodded his head and smiled at you once again. He flipped the camera to his leg and you noticed that he was in a cast and still laying in a hospital bed, but he looked a thousand times better than he had. At least he hadn’t died from infection or lost his leg. 

It was getting late, so with Jungkook still on Facetime, you said goodnight to your brother ad retired to your room. You were still looking at each other when you laid down on your bed, ready to sleep. It wasn’t nighttime where he was, so he looked refreshed, but he seemed to be okay with your going to sleep. 

You stared at him with hooded eyes and admitted, “I need you.” You didn’t know if he would understand, so you closed your eyes and let a tear slip from your eye. This kind of communication was so hard. 

He nodded his head. “Practice,” was the only word he said, but it made your heart swell. What else was a guy to do in the hospital all day. 

“We meet soon?” He asked after a few moments of silence. 

You wanted nothing more than to meet him and to tell him you loved him, but after that experience, you didn’t want to travel. Planes were going to be a terrifying experience. 

But if the two wanted to be together, who was going to make the leap to travel to the other?

“I love you,” you whispered, heart breaking.

MASTERLIST

[k2-b0]

"I like you."

Ouma's face burned as he held a heart stamped letter out to Saihara. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. What the hell was he even doing? Confessing his love behind the school building just like in one of those school life animes that Shirogane constantly cooed about?

God, he felt like an everyday schoolgirl. How embarrassing. He glanced up at the other boy from his bowing position, waiting anxiously for a response. Thank god patience is a virtue, because after an awkward pause Saihara slowly pulled the letter from his grasp and opened it, the tiny red sticker pulling away from the paper with a quiet ripping sound.

Ouma squeezed his eyes shut while his crush read the letter he'd written. It only existed because he was too scared to tell him through his spoken words. Typical of a coward like him. What was he even thinking? Saihara was way too cool and c-cute to actually like someone like him! Much less like-like!! Ahh, he sounded like Chabashira, going off like that! Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Ouma-kun..."

Was it too late to take it back? Could he just rewind time? He'd totally compared the situation to an anime earlier, so why couldn't he just pull a trick from one of them and go back?! Fuck, fuck!

"Ouma-kun."

Was suicide an option? No, that would be way too sudden. And to do it in front of Saihara-kun? No way!! Maybe he could--

"Ouma-kun!!"

Ouma blinked as the usually reserved boy yelled at him. Had he done something wrong? Oh, yikes, maybe he was mumbling all of that out loud? Was Saihara going to beat the shit out of him and call him slurs?

"Ouma-kun," Saihara said again, drawing Ouma from his thoughts. "This letter... is this really how you feel?"

The shorter boy swallowed thickly. What a direct question... "Y-Yes," he mumbled, "I... really like Saihara-kun. I was too scared to tell him out loud so I wrote a letter... a-and--“

"So Ouma-kun thinks of me in that way?" Saihara cut in. Ouma froze. Was this where the ridicule came in? Where Momota and Harukawa would jump out and say 'surprise! Loser! You just got pranked!' Ahh. But what else did he expect. The purple haired boy straightened his back out from the bow to look at Saihara on even grounds. Whatever. If he was going to get ridiculed he'd take it with pride.

Saihara put a hand to his face and flushed bright red. What? "So..." he said, "Ouma-kun thinks of me the same way as I do him?"

What.

"I-I'm sorry?" Ouma stuttered. "What was that?" He'd had to of heard wrong. There was no way...

"I really like Ouma-kun too..." Saihara said, still blushing. "I've wanted to tell you for so long but I was afraid... afraid that you would reject me. I'm so glad you feel the same way... now I can do what I've wanted to do for so long..."

Do what? Was Ouma's first thought. His second thought was along the lines of oh, holy shit, what?! His face went bright red as Saihara kissed him. The dark haired boy cupped his neck as he did it, gently tilting his head back and nibbling at his lips. Ouma gripped onto the other's gakuran and closed his eyes, perfectly returning the passionate kiss.

Saihara pulled away first, licking his lips as he lovingly stared Ouma in the eyes. "O-Ouma-kun..." he whispered, "let's get married."

Sakura blossoms blew in the wind around them and the sun shone vibrantly through the clouds in an orange glow. "O-Of course, Saihara-kun," he replied, "lets move to Canada and get married! We can be in love! Forget high school, we can teach ourselves through the power of love!"

"I agree!" Saihara cried, "we can be happy together! I love you, Ouma-kun!"

Ouma buried his head in Saihara's chest. "I love you too, Saihara-kun! Let's be together forever!"

Suddenly a bright red car sped into view, kicking up dust and gleaming in the orange light. It slammed on the brakes in front of the two and the door swung open to reveal Amami wearing a pair of Gucci sunglasses. "Ouma-kun," he yelled happily, flipping his hair back dramatically, "I heard you were getting married so I bought you this Ferrari! Please don't ruin the seats!" He undid his seatbelt and jumped out. "Au revoir, best friend, and happy being married!"

"Thank you very much, Amami-kun," Saihara said with a smile. "We'll never forget you! We'll be sure to send letters from Canada!" He crawled into the driver's seat and turned the key. Ouma sat down in the passengers seat and turned to his fiancé in concern.

"Saihara-kun," he asked, "do you even know how to drive?"

"Of course not! Do I look eighteen to you?" He responded. "But still, I'm willing to break the law for you!"

Tears welled up in Ouma's eyes. "Thank you, Saihara-kun," he said, "I feel the same! Now let's go to Canada! We don't need a plane, let's let the power of love take us there!"

"Right!" Saihara cheered. "Let's!"

And so the two shut the car doors and drove to Canada to get married, fueled by their undying love for each other. They only needed each other to be happy, and happy they were. They sent Amami letters weekly and grew old together, running an orphanage until the day they died: in each other's arms during a house fire set by Harukawa.

Ouma opened his eyes and scanned the classroom, gaze scanning over the teacher and his classmates before falling on a note-taking Saihara's back.

" I love you, Ouma-kun! "

Ha. As if.

The second the bell rang the sound of chairs moving away from desks and fabric ruffling filled the classroom. Ouma stuffed his papers haphazardly into his bag before throwing it over the back of his chair and walking out of the room, ignoring the way the teacher protested.

He sighed in relief as soon as he was in the hallway. Being in the same class as Saihara was really... stressful, to say the least. Between dealing with stupid fantasies and stupid crushes, Ouma would rather staple his eyelids shut. Or die. Either option was better than trying to suffocate the butterflies in his stomach every time he saw the detective.

At least it was lunchtime. During lunchtime he could get away from his problems and make fun of Iruma. Not to mention he could steal scraps of food from his classmates, meaning he wouldn't have to waste money on buying lunch.

He swung open the doors to the back of the school and headed to his usual spot with Gokuhara, Iruma, Hoshi, and Shinguuji. Not that any of them were there yet.

Ah, whatever. They'd show up after placating the teacher on Gokuhara's part and yelling about going to take a break on Iruma's.

Ouma sat down next to the furnace and stretched his back. Pathetic, he thought. You can't even get Saihara-chan out of your head for a second.

The sound of footsteps came from around the corner and he moved to the side to see who it was. Hoshi gave him a wave as he walked into the small area that held the furnace.

"Oho, Hoshi-chan makes an entrance!" Ouma laughed, "but where are his groupies?"

The smaller boy sat down in his usual spot and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Gokuhara and Iruma are still freaking out in the classroom. Shinguuji's on his way." He pressed one of them to his lips and flicked his lighter. "You want one?"

Ouma scoffed. "Hoshi-chan thinks so lowly of me? I'd never do such a thing! Unlike you, I'm a good boy!"

"So you want a light," Hoshi said.

"Ah, yes please!"

Hoshi passed him the item and Ouma moved to take a long drag of it. He sighed out the smoke and watched it swirl up into the air.

Shinguuji appeared around the corner and made his way to the two, holding a bento box in his hands. "Good afternoon," he said, "I see that you two are keeping up your poor habits."

Ouma cheerfully flipped him off before moving from his spot to sit next to the taller boy. After Shinguuji opened his lunch he picked a bit of rice from it.

"What's up, sluts!" A voice yelled, and none of the boys reacted as Iruma threw herself around the bend, dragging Gokuhara along with her. "Did ya miss me? Teach was being a real prick today, y'know? I was about to- oh, shit, are those smokes?"

Gokuhara's face drained of color. "S-Smokes?! Ouma-kun and Hoshi-kun are smoking again?!"

Ouma tapped the cigarette on the side of the furnace and watched as the ashes fell down. "Hey to you too, Iruma-chan, Gonta-chan."

"Yeah, yeah," the blonde waved him off. "What the hell're you doing? You said you'd stop that shit."

"Oh, I lied."

Gokuhara's eyes welled up with tears. "H-Hoshi-kun promised Gonta he would stop though..." The gentle giant moved his arm to push up his glasses and wipe his tears, sniffling into his sleeve.

Hoshi let out a breath of air and slammed the cigarette into the wall, putting it out in a second. The four teens blinked. He opened the door to the furnace and tossed it in. "Okay," he said, "sorry, Gokuhara. Won't happen again. Ouma, take these."

Ouma wheezed and took the pack from his hands. Then he burst into laughter. "Oh my god!!" He screamed, "oh, my god! Imagine being so gay-- I'm losing it!" He broke into coughs. Shinguuji patted his back comfortingly.

A smile broke out on Gokuhara's face. "Gonta is very relieved," he sighed, "he heard that smoking is bad for your lungs! So he wants Hoshi-kun to stop. Ouma-kun too!"

To spite him, Ouma blew a long breath of smoke into the air. Iruma scoffed. "You know he ain't gonna stop," she said, "he's probably been doin' it since he was a fuckin' sperm cell."

"Sperm cells cannot smoke, Iruma-san," Shinguuji replied, thumbing through a book on ancient foods. He'd probably pulled it from his pocket or something while they were arguing. Ouma snuck some more rice from his bento and put out his cigarette butt while he looked through the book with him.

Iruma seemed like she was about to punch the gangly boy. She sat herself down on the ground instead. "Shut the fuck up," she spat eloquently, "you know what I mean." A ring on her finger glinted in the sunlight when she pointed at him.

And, ah, wait. A ring? Ouma swallowed a mouth full of food and pointed at her hand. "Hm? What's this~?" He jeered before crawling towards her, seizing her hand from the air. She squeaked when he did. "Oh my! Iruma-chan, what a cute ring! I wonder where you got it from...?"

Iruma yanked her hand away from him, flustered. "Sh-Shut up! This... This is--!" She gripped her wrist in her other hand tightly, almost like it would just fall off if she let go. The cute ring wasn't on her finger anymore, though. Her eyes went wide and she snapped her gaze towards the small boy in front of her.

Ouma sat on his haunches, holding the little piece of jewelry between his fingers. It was... really cute, actually. There were small flowers engraved in the side of it and a small pink gemstone was set in the middle. The ring was a crisp silver with "Miu" carved on the inside.

"Huh?" Ouma muttered, turning it in one hand and holding a wailing Iruma back with the other. "Huh, huh, huuuuuh? This is super cute Iruma-chaaaaan! Who got it for you?" He moved it to his lips to bite down on it.

"Fucker!" Iruma finally pushed his arm away and leapt towards him, snatching the ring from him before he could bite it. The gem glittered in the light as Iruma looked over it before putting it back onto her finger. She sent a nasty glare towards her friend. "Don't touch my shit, shota! Besides, you don't bite silver, you bite gold!"

"She's right," Hoshi unnecessarily chimed in. He paused for a second. "Actually, you can bite silver, but still."

Ouma let himself fall back onto his butt and laughed. "For real though," he said cheerfully, "who got you the ring?"

The blonde girl squirmed where she sat. A bird called from somewhere in the schoolyard, followed by the sound of teenagers laughing. Sunlight bounced off of the top of the old furnace. Iruma sniffed as a bead of sweat ran down her face.

The four boys there with her watched, curious. Shinguuji's book made a quiet sound when he turned a page. Iruma swallowed and fiddled with the ring again. "A... Akamatsu," she murmured, and red exploded across her face.

Ouma blinked. "Really? How boring. I thought you would say Kiiboy got it for you or something." He pouted. "I'm disappointed."

"Wh-What?!" She shrieked, "you were the one who asked!" Her eyebrows pinched up, an exasperated expression covering her face.

"I don't know what you expected," Shinguuji said, not looking up from his book, "he's proven to do this sort of thing every time."

Well, that was certainly true. Maybe he was starting to get more predictable? That wasn't good. Not good at all! Ouma laid a hand over his forehead and gasped. "My," he lamented, "Shinguuji-chan! What an insult! Are-Are you calling me predictable?" Tears welled up in his eyes and Gokuhara gasped. "You're so cruel! It hurts for you to say that to me!"

"Oh no," Gokuhara whispered, eyes welling up with tears of his own. "Shinguuji-kun! P-Please apologize to Ouma-kun! He's crying!"

Iruma grit her teeth and picked him up by the scarf. "Bitch, stop faking! I ain't fallin' for it, and neither are those two limp dicks! You're just embarrassing yourself, shithead!"

The short boy's face fell flat, tears drying up instantly. He sighed, still being held up by Iruma. His eyes darted to the side before pulling back up to her face. Well, time for his most devastating comeback! A grin crossed lips. "No," he said, curt, "you."

Iruma's jaw dropped. "Did you just 'no you' me?! I'm gonna fuckin'--!!" Just before the blonde could "fuckin'--" the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Ouma dropped back to the ground when he was suddenly let go of, and he gently straightened his scarf out.

Iruma frowned at him before standing up and dusting off her too-short skirt. She walked off briskly, muttering to herself. Gokuhara jumped up and reached for Ouma, extending a hand towards him. "Aw," the shorter cooed, pushing himself up and leaving his friend hanging, "thanks Gonta! You're so kind!"

"Right..." Gokuhara said, obviously uncomfortable. He pulled his arm back and fidget edited . "Did Ouma-kun need to be so mean to Iruma-san? She seemed upset..."

"It's better than calling her a slut or a whore," Hoshi replied, standing up. "You gonna keep those?" He pointed to the pack of cigarettes that had been left on the ground.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Ouma grabbed them and slid them into his scarf. A real disappearing act, huh? Yumeno would be jealous.

Shinguuji stood up, bookmarking and closing his book before picking up his empty bento box. He nodded to his friends before leaving the furnace area. Hoshi followed after a second later, Gokuhara on his heels, and Ouma was left alone.

He looked up, squinting at the sunlight. Alone, huh? True enough. He was too much of an asshole to consistently make people happy, so that sort of friendship was pretty much unobtainable. Much less a relationship.

Tears welled up in his eyes from staring up into the bright light.

A sigh pulled from his lips.

He wasn't in the mood to go back to class.

Ouma walked into the classroom the next morning and received a total of fifteen unhappy looks. When he threw himself down into his seat Amami turned around in his own chair and pushed him his belongings. The look in his best friend’s eyes told him that they'd be having a long conversation sooner rather than later. He rolled his eyes at the green-haired boy and started to dig into his bag.

At least, he tried to. A sharp jab into his shoulder blade pulled his attention instead. Ouma looked back up from his school bag only to see his deskmate's face. Oh, great. How wonderful.

"Momota-chan. It's good to see you!" Ouma grinned weakly, "well, that's actually a lie. It's always unpleasant to see you. Anyways, what is it that you need?"

His classmate scowled at him. Ah, if he kept that up his face would freeze that way. Momota crossed his arms. "Where'd you go yesterday?" He growled, "Amami and Iruma were pissed off for the rest of the day."

"Okay?" Ouma said, "why's that matter to me? Or... were you worried for me? How sweet of you, Momota-chan!"

"How the hell did you get that from 'Amami and Iruma were pissed'...?"

Ouma ignored him and pulled his textbook from his bag. "Helloooo?" Momota waved his hand in front of the shorter's face. "Ouma? You there?"

Ouma knocked his arm down, now very aware of Saihara's eyes on the two of them from his seat next to Amami. "Yeah, I'm here," he fumbled. "Could Momota-chan leave me alone now? His idiocy is giving me hives."

Momota sputtered. “Idiocy can't give someone hives! And, oi, are you calling me stupid?!” The wannabe astronaut’s face was flushed with anger, and his voice was starting to get louder and louder. If he didnt put a stop to their argument, Ouma would either end up with a black eye or a write-up. And he had work later, so there was no way in hell he'd let himself get detention now.

"Ehh... what're you going on about," he said, waving the taller off. “I wasn't even talking to you, moron. Just go back to drawing dicks, or spaceships or whatever those are.” He dug a chewed up pencil out of his bag and pinched at the led to check if it was broken. It wasn’t, so Ouma propped his head up on his elbow, looking away from Momota, who just clicked his tongue at him.

From the seat ahead, Saihara sighed in relief. Ouma let a smile creep onto his lips. Crisis averted, in more ways than one.

[allisonbaelfire]

Triggered Destiny

Pairings: Theo Raeken x Reader, Stiles Stilinski x Reader Summary: (Soulmate AU!) After you parents died you moved to Beacon Hills, to start new a new life. But in the moment you were in High School, you felt something you never felt before. 

Word Count: 4,076

Requested by Anon (1): hi! your page is amazing keep it up. Can I request a Stiles Stilinski one where the reader just moved to BC and she's on the dead pool being worth five million but all seems to be a mystery? Thank you so much and if you dont feel like it thats fine!

Requested by Anon (2):  Hey! 💕 can you write an imagine with theo where he is dating with reader and he is obsessive with the reader ? Like really obsessive. Not the illness level but you know what ı mean 😂 And you can add a little over protective and touchy theo. I hope you can write. If you cant its totally fine 💗 love you

Authors Note: I’m sorry if this should’ve been a Stiles x Reader where they fall for each other and happy beautiful stuff. I had this in my mind and it wouldn’t go away, I hope you’ll like it anyways. - In this Story, was Theo already introduced in the show in Season 4 but everything that was in 5&6 already happened.

Edited by @nas-marie-loves-u ♥

___________________________________

BEACON HILLS HIGH SCHOOL

“I’m happy to welcome you to our high school Y/N. If you need anything, just tell me.” smiled the principal, Mrs.Martin.

“Thank you so much.” You nodded and exited the office.

You strolled through corridors on the hunt for your classroom. You wondered if it was the right decision to move to Beacon Hills until you aggressively made contact with someone.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You apologized to a guy with brown hair. His books fell to the ground as but instead of lifting them, he stared into your eyes. “Are you alright?” You asked as you grabbed his stuff.

“Yes.” He replied, taking his stuff and still gazing into your eyes like he was searching for something in them. “Sorry, I’m Stiles. Thiswas totally my fault.”

“I’m Y/N,” You introduced. “and no, I should’ve looked out and stopped sticking to my thoughts. It was nice to meet you.” You departed and continued on with your search.

You paused again after a few steps. It felt as if someone were watching you and now, everything around you became warm and comfortable. Your eyes scanned the corridors and landed on a man leaning against the lockers watching you.

He seemed puzzled, as if he had felt the same energy you felt. The feeling grew more intense and you turned around quickly to go further without anyone seeing your eyes.

You eventually found your classroom and quickly sat down in one of the empty seats. It was just you and few students, so the class wasn’t full yet. You tried comprehending what happened a few moments prior and why you almost lost control for the first time in years. The first period bell rang and the rest of the students flooded in. You didn’t recognize anyone until the guy you last saw in the halls jostled in and stared at you as if he had noticed something.

**************************************

Your first day at Beacon Hills High School quickly came to an end and you were more than relieved when you finally arrived home. Still, for some reason you started to feel watched again even though you were alone in the house. And since your parents were dead and you didn’t know anyone, nobody would have thought to come over.

You went through the whole house with an urge to find something unknown to you. After browsing every room and being sure that only the stress of the past few months was causing you to go insane, you headed to the bathroom to throw some cool water on your face. It was then when you looked into the mirror that you noticed your glowing red eyes.

Something hasn’t been right since you've been to the school. You haven’t lost control since you became an Alpha a few years ago and you believed that moving away from your parents' home into a new city would be easier to forget the deaths and to stay in control.

But you were wrong.

The urge to search for something became stronger until you shifted into your wolf form and jumped out of the window into the woods.

**************************************

You didn’t know where you were running as you hadn’t memorized the woods of Beacon Hills yet. However, you couldn’t stop. It felt like you had been running for hours.

You paws carried you further into the forest until you saw a familiar face standing near a bridge. You growled but the man wasn’t fazed. He took small steps towards you. You didn’t understand what his intentions were and took the form of a protective stance that was ready to attack.

“I’m Theo.” he introduced. As he spoke you, felt the familiar feeling you had earlier consumed you. The man knelt down to your level, his eyes switching into a glowing yellow. “Theo Raeken”

You don’t know how he discovered that you were a werewolf; your mother always said no one would decipher the difference from a normal wolf to your form. Maybe he felt the same as you but did Theo know you were the girl that stared at him in the hall this morning, running away from him?

You walked closer to him, showed him your eyes, and let him touch you. The warm and comfortable feeling grew as he touched you. You felt safe and bonded with him. Was this what it felt like looking for a pack?

When you found out about you being a born wolf, your mother explained  everything. But she never mentioned that an Alpha would look for a Beta or would feel what you felt towards Theo. Instead, she explained that a Beta would come for an Alpha and not the other way around.

You heard a crack behind you and the tranquility disappeared. You looked at Theo and started to run away.

**************************************

“Damn it.” Theo growled as he watched you run away.

“What the hell was that?” he heard the voice of Liam whisper.

Theo moved over to the tree where he could make out Liam and Stiles’ scents. “What are you idiots doing here?” He asked.

Both boys revealed themselves to Theo but Liam was the one to answer his question.“Watching you.” Stiles lightly hit him.

“I noticed you were a bit off today and the glare you gave the new girl. I knew you still couldn’t be trusted and now we see you have an accomplice.” Stiles hissed with Theo smirking. “What? Is she the one writing the deadpool? Do you help her?”

“I don’t know who she is.” Theo responded. “Neither do I know who is writing the deadpool and if you haven’t noticed I’m on it as well but you on the other hand—” he crossed his arms. “Are not. If you’d excuse me now, it’s late and I have school tomorrow.” He made a move to leave but stopped. “But one thing: leave her alone.”

**************************************

BHHS - Lunch a few days later

“I knew he couldn’t be trusted and you wanted to give him another chance!” Stiles argued with Scott.

“Why did he help us then?” Scott asked. “He needs a pack and who the hell was the white wolf?”

Stiles wanted to answer but noticed Theo walking up to you. “Maybe he wanted to help but now he wants to save his own ass and flirt with the writer of the list.” He responded, staring at you as you smiled at Theo.

“What, Y/N?” Liam chewed his sandwich. “She’s the nicest person around, even after her parents deaths.”

“Liam has a point there. You haven’t spoken to her since her first day even if she’s in the same class as us. Y/N is really nice and Malia even likes her.” Scott elaborated. “Lydia will decode the third list and then we see if she’s on it or not. Then, we can think about what we do but until then, we leave her alone. She has enough on her plate already.”

**************************************

A FEW DAYS EARLIER

You stayed in your home for some time to assure you had self-control over your true self. And to avoid Theo. You thought about what happened and searched for explanations in some of your parents' books but came up with nothing.

After those few days, you decided that you were ready to face the world again. So, you headed to bed early for school the next day.

As you shut your eyes, you heard a crack from. You feel like your eyes went red as you quickly got up and stealthily made your way down the stairs.

You couldn’t trust your eyes once downstairs. The light in your living room was on and although you could only see a strangers back, you knew who it was. That familiar feeling surrounded you once more warm and comfortable feeling surrounded you. Theo

He smiled but you growled again. “Okay, don’t freak out. I was worried about you.”

“You don’t know me. How did you even get into my house?” You hissed. “What do you want?”

He walked closer to you and even when you looked like you wanted to rip his head off, it wasn’t how you currently felt.

“To be honest? I don’t know. I needed to see you.” Theo grinned. “I know it sounds crazy but I know you felt the same in the school, in the woods, and I know what you feel now.”  

So he knew who I was and he feels the same, you thought.

He tried to come closer but you stopped him. “Don’t” You took a couple steps back. “If you know me, then you would know that I don’t have control.”

“You have no control because you don’t know why you felt the way you did.” He responded.

He made you feel comfortable in a ways you couldn’t explain. Every word he spoke was like a melody you could listen to all day. Your body told you to relax but your mind was clear: you didn’t know Theo. You didn’t know what was going on and you had to stay away from him.

“Have you ever heard about soulmates?” he asked, trying to read your puzzled glare. “I know it sounds crazy— it is crazy but my grandma told me about it. I never believed it either but I can’t bring myself to stay away from you. I just need to be by your side.”

For a second you thought about his words. But then you let out a faked laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Soulmates?”

You marched up to him so you were now right in front of him. He was taller than you but you couldn’t have cared less. You wanted to prove a point to him and yourself. Your eyes started to glow red and you growled at him, trying to bring him to subjugate. You never had a Beta until your parents died. You were one yourself, but your parents taught you what you could be an Alpha. It didn’t work.

“Don’t worry you didn’t do anything wrong, it usually works that way.” Theo said once he realized what your attempt was. “But it doesn’t work around your soulmate.”

He gently took your hand in his. In that moment, your heart began to pound faster and than images of Theo ran through your mind. You closed your eyes to see them more clearly. You saw his past, all the things he had done, all he was but it didn’t frighten you. What scared you was that you saw his future too, a future with you next to him.

You opened your eyes and gazed at him. “What was that?” You breathed heavily while a tear rolled down your cheeks.

He pulled his hand out of your grip. “I’m sorry you had to see this. I’m not that person anymore.” Theo took a few steps back with a scared expression. “I should go, this was a mistake. I could endanger you.”

Your mind tried comprehending the glare he held. He was referring to his past, of course, and while you knew that you should be staying away from him because he was dangerous, you felt safer with him than without.

Theo stared out of your window, where the sun slowly began to rise. He looked beautiful with the sun gently touching his face. When you you touched him, you didn’t only see his past and future but you also saw through his soul. You walked towards him and placed your hand on his face so he could look at you.

It was like he put a spell on you, “I’m not afraid of you.” you heard yourself say but not knowing why you said it. Theo looked at you, trying piece together the meaning behind your words. “I-I need you to stay.”

“You might not know it but there is a deadpool with the name of every supernatural creature in Beacon Hills. They get killed one by one and the killers get money. I’m on it. So there are a lot of people who are after me... and I don’t know what this is here but I can’t put you in danger.” Theo was trying to deter you. But you could see that he was afraid of what you had seen. He didn’t want you to judge him. And even if what he said was true, you wouldn’t be able to let him go.

You saw him looking out of the window, where the sun slowly began to rise. He looked beautiful as the sun gently touched his face. as you touched him you didn’t only see his past and future, you also saw through his soul. You walked towards him and touched gently his face to make him look to you.

It was like he put a spell on you, “I’m not afraid of you.” you heard yourself saying but not knowing why you said it. Theo looked at you and tried to understand your words. “I- I need you to stay.”

“You might not know it but there is a deadpool, with the name of every supernatural creature in Beacon Hills. They get killed one by one and the killers get money, I am on it. So there are a lot of people who try to get me.. and I don’t know what this is here but I can’t put you in danger.” 

Theo tried to deter you. But you knew that he was afraid of what you saw before. He didn’t want you judge about him. And even if what he said was true, you wouldn’t be able to let him go.

**************************************

LYDIA’S HOUSE  - a few weeks later

“I knew it!” Stiles said as he studied the third section of the Deadpool.

Liam was confused. “Y/N is on the list, so she couldn’t have made it.”

Stiles thought for a moment because Liam seemed to have a point. “What if this is just to make us think she didn’t write it?”

“That doesn’t make sense...” Lydia responded. “The list was there before Y/N moved here.”

“But she was just one town away from Beacon Hills.” Malia interjected.

Stiles nodded. “Thank God someone gets my point. And did anyone else notice that the bad, big, black wolf kinda moved into her house? They’re planning something.”

“To be honest, I noticed that they do everything together. It really seems like they refused to be separated... and I don’t think that this is because he has a crush on her. He seems to be obsessive when it comes to her.” Lydia added. “And he stopped hanging around us.”

“Thats the only thing that isn’t bad actually.” Stiles shrugged.

Scott didn’t want to admit it but ever since Stiles informed him of what happened in the woods with Theo, your absence, and you only focusing on Theo... you were now on the Deadpool. Stiles was right, something was odd.

Scott shot Stiles a glare for him to understand that everyone got his point.

“Okay fine. Theo and Y/N seem to care about each other a lot. So what if, we trick them? See what happens if they think that something happened to one of them?” Malia suggested.

“Like what, telling Y/N that her doggy got hit by a car?” Stiles sarcastically suggested.

“That’s actually a good idea. We’d get her out of his sight.” Lydia replied with Scott nodding. “I can call her and tell her that something happened to him while you get Theo away from her.”

**************************************

It didn’t take long before the pack put their plan into action. Liam and Scott caught Theo before he went to see you. Malia and Kira watched your house while Stiles and Lydia waited in the hospital.

After Lydia called you, she informed you that someone had attacked Theo and he was in a coma at the hospital. After that, you sped to the hospital.

When you arrived, Lydia caught you. She waited until you followed her into one of the hospital rooms and blew Wolfsbane in your direction. Your eyes glowed red and you growled at her. She didn’t know if it would work, as she had no idea what a creature you were, so she threw Mountain Ash at you. It didn’t take long because you fell to the ground unconscious.

Stiles entered the room as well. Lydia told him what happened and he understood why Theo stopped being around Scott, trying to get into the Pack. He already found one.

**************************************

BEFORE AT YOUR PLACE

Theo was annoyed as he stood in front of your door. Scott and Liam tried everything to keep him in school until he was tired and angry. He entered your house and called after you but there was no reaction. He anxiously ran all over the house searching for you but came up unlucky. You were gone. Theo blamed himself for putting you in harm's way and being needed to get to him.

He tried picking up your scent when he exited your house but found nothing.

He was lost on what to do. After half an hour, he felt something. He felt you. Since he moved in with you, your bond with each other grew stronger. You weren’t really a couple because you wanted to get to know each other better. However, you couldn’t be without one another. You both learned a lot about the bondage of the soulmates and that you could find each other no matter where and when. If one was in danger, then you could feel what the other one felt.

Theo started to cough. In his mouth it tasted like wolfsbane. He put one and one together and knew that someone must’ve poisoned you but what they didn’t know was that he was coming for them. He would kill them in a rush if they’d have touched you. You weren’t a couple but he couldn’t deny that he was falling for you hard. He followed his feeling and ran into the hospital.

“Shit.” Kira said as she noticed in which direction he ran. “How did he know?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. Call Scott and Stiles, I’ll follow him.” Malia replied and went after him.

**************************************

“What?!” Stiles yelled into the phone. He hung up and shot Lydia a worried glare. “You stay. Take her into the basement—” he commanded as he pulled off your jacket to get your scent. “—and I’ll get Theo on the roof. Tell Scott where I am and please, please do for once like I say.” Lydia nodded and Stiles kissed her head and left the room.

It didn’t take Theo long to reach the hospital. As soon as he walked in, he searched every room for you. No matter who tried to stop him, he didn’t give up. Until he found your smell. He went up the stairs to the roof and saw Stiles with his jacket in his hand.

“Looking for your Alpha?” Stiles asked as he saw Theo throwing your jacket in his direction.

Theo growled. “I don’t know what you’re up to but if something happened to Y/N I’ll rip your head of with my bare hands.”

“Don’t be so mad wolfie.”

Theo stalked towards Stiles. Stiles knew Theo could do what he had threatened him with a few seconds ago but he wasn’t afraid. To be honest, Stiles didn’t care about him. He knew an idiot like Theo wouldn’t be able to have that much money to pay all the hunters, who killed the supernatural. Stiles just wanted to protect his friends, find out who wrote this list of deaths. And you were his prime suspect.

Stiles grabbed Theo by the collar and pushed him against the fence. “Tell me why Y/N is doing this and how do I stop her?! I swear I’ll kill her myself if thats necessary to save my friends ” He yelled at him but Theo looked confused. “It was pretty smart of her to play the new girl and putting you both on her list but you can’t trick me!”

Theo now knew why he was here. Stiles thought you were the one who wrote the list and opened the hunt for supernatural creatures.

“Now listen super officer—” Theo started, switching their positions with Stiles against the fence. “Y/N has done nothing but saved me, giving me a home and to be a better person than your precious pack.”

Theo noticed that the door which he entered to get up here opened again, “Leave him alone, Theo.” Scott growled behind him.

Theo smirked. “Only if I get her back.”

“Then tell us what we want to know.” Malia clenched her teeth.

Theo released Stiles and shoved him down to the ground. He faced the others. “Y/N didn’t write the list. She’s not the one who’s trying to kill us all. Her parents where on that damn list and they got murdered. She was born a wolf and became the Alpha after they died. She moved here because her parents grew up here. Y/N wanted to be close to them again.”

Stiles got up and moved next to Scott, “Let’s say we believe you, why are you two a pack and why are you so obsessive with her?”

“Scott should know that, if he remembers his lost love...” Theo answered calmly but no one understood. “She’s my god damn soulmate. It’s more than just having an anchor to stay under control. It’s like you can’t breathe without the other.”

“My mother told me about that when I was little.” Kira remembered. “The bond of wolves. It’s like a triggered Destiny.”

“—But he isn’t even a real wolf.” Stile replied.

“A part of him is and he’s a strong one. Its possible that he’s telling the truth... and if he does and what Lydia said is right and she is an Alpha, we don’t want to be here if she finds out we separated them. They can’t control themselves when it comes to their soulmates.” Kira stated, suddenly scared.

“Too late.” You growled behind the pack.

“Damn it.” Stiles said looking at you. “What have you done with Lydia?”

Liam was nervous as he saw your eyes in a glowing red. “You weren’t so scary in school.”

You made your way towards Stiles and pushed him aside to see Theo smirking. Your anger disappeared the moment you saw him. You calmed down and ran into his arms. He embraced you and was relieved as he felt you. You looked at him and gently touched his cheek, smiling at him and kissing him for the first time.

The kiss felt more intensive than your first touch. This time you just saw the future you two would have together. You felt everything he was feeling and he felt yours too. You knew you were in love with him and that you wouldn’t survive if anything would ever happen to him.

You stopped your kissing and turned around to the confused McCall Pack. “Lydia’s with Scotts mom. Lydia wasn’t so stupid and tried to attack me again. I’m a true alpha like you Scott, wolfsbane doesn’t knock us out for long.” You smirked. “And what Theo said is true. My parents got killed by hunters and Lydia told me that I’m on the list as well. I’ll— We’ll help you find them.“ You looked at Theo who wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed your forehead. “But I’d test my patience again. Liam is the only one of knew who knows me a bit and how nice I can be but next time you try to separate us I’ll kill all of you.”

“I’m sorry, we were afraid.” Scott replied, he was ashamed about what he and the pack had done the moment Theo mentioned Allison. And as he saw you two together, he knew you both weren’t lying. If something like soulmates existed then Allison was his once. “I’m glad you both found each other.” Theo and you smiled. “Stiles...?” He looked at his best friend.

“I’m sorry I thought you two wanted to kill us all even when Theo really tried to kill us once. I think I'm biased.”

The others of the pack also apologized to Theo and you which you accepted and went home. After a few days, you and Theo could even sit down with them and work out a plan together how you would survive the death list.

[parkjmini]

fam(ily) - four | pkjm

parent!au: park jimin A single father of twins show you the true meaning of family and what it takes to love like a parent, even if they aren’t your own. word count: 2,652 genre: fluff// future angst? ?? warnings: explicit language one | two | three | four | five

[A/N]: i wrote this in one sitting so i APOLOGIZE for any typos bc i know they’re going to be a lot of them

“That was their mother’s aunt. Don’t worry about it, (Y/N).” Jimin rubbed the back of his neck out of nervousness. He tried to smile to reassure you that things were going to be fine, but he could hardly get himself to.

You stepped towards him and hugged him. Your wet hair clung against his shirt, soaking through the cloth. His familiar sweet strawberry scent hit his nose, but for some reason, it smelled better on you. He pulled you in closer, to the point where your torsos were touching and your warmth from the shower wrapped him as well.

Jimin has never felt such serenity in his life. Embracing you calmed his waters, like all his worries suddenly vanished. That was what you did. You did that, his solace. 

You pulled away and merely blinked at him. He couldn’t read your expression — possibly a mixture of emotions. Confusion. Compassion. Sympathy. You were searching him, finding any way to understand what had happened. “Bad blood?”

“Something like that.” Jimin shrugged, dropping eye contact and still holding you in his arms. He was afraid to let go, thinking you might never come back to him.

“I won’t push it.” You smiled. That incredible, infamous smile. You didn’t need the explanation, you just simply understood and he loved it. He wouldn’t know how to tell you, maybe when the time was right. “I got your shirt wet..”

He looked down at his white tee and laughed at the water patches. Jimin grabbed the ends of his shirt and pulled it over his head. He was use to walking around the house without a shirt, so it didn’t occur to him how strange it may have been for you. His eyes landed on your bright pink cheeks — a notable signature that you had — and your wide eyes.

“You’re really cute.” He chuckled, and pinched your hot cheek lightly. He walked to his room to grab another shirt, leaving you stunned at him in his living room.

You had moved back into your apartment and Kim was finally back. You weren’t sure how many more days you could last without strangling Ingrid. Your uncle’s vitals were stable and he was recovering quickly. Kim was glad she was back too. 

She was back on her feet after two hours of settling back in, it was extraordinary. You aspired to be someone like her. She was admirable and you were proud to be related to such a strong woman. 

You and Jimin contacted frequently after you moved out, he texted you often and invited you over for dinner almost every night. After leaving the small family, you realized how much you missed them.

You wandered your massive apartment and felt lost in it. An eerie silence always lingered in the air and it was cold. There was no warmth or happiness around every corner. There was no Jimin or the twins. It was quiet and you had to stop yourself from running back to them every night.

Minseo and Minjoo would ask you when you were coming back. They would plead for you to stay and even go to the extent of begging you to move in with them. You couldn’t let yourself get greedy and often tried to frown upon their behavior. It helped with your impulses of agreeing with them.

If they just pleaded you a little more, you would’ve packed your things and moved in with them. The problem was that you couldn’t. Jimin and you weren’t exclusive or anything official. You were his friend, even if you two had feelings for one another.

Jimin went back to work, so you no longer saw him after school. However, mornings were different. He made the effort to hold your hand as you two chatted. Kim almost ripped your head off to immediately explain what was going on. She demanded to know everything she missed during her trip.

Months passed by as you slowly integrated yourself in their family. You and Jimin started to meet on the weekends because he made you promise that you’d see him once a week outside of school. In some strange way, you were able to convince Wes to give you less hours. It was the start of something new.

“Guess who’s going on a date today.” Jimin paced around the living room with a small sock in his hand. He didn’t look quite happy. You two were scheduled for one of your weekend plans.

He was dressed in a nice button up, tucked into his black jeans. His hair was neatly parted and his skin glowed. You showed up in something a little different today. It was a simple pastel pink sundress that fell mid-thigh. 

“Judging by your face, it’s not us?” You questioned as you leaned against the door frame.

“I didn’t know we called our plans dates.” Jimin peered up to finally look at you. He paused, sharply taking in a breath. His eyes widened as he scanned you from head to toe. He gulped, “are you going to be cold? Did you bring a jacket?” 

Your shoulders fell along with your hopes and dreams. You thought he was going to be surprised at your outfit change, instead you only triggered his parental instincts.

“You are such a dad, Jimin.” You sighed and rolled your eyes. 

“Maybe because I am one?” He chuckled and walked towards you. He held your forearms and smirked at you before pulling you into a hug. “You look beautiful, honey.” 

His words of affection no longer caught you off guard. You were use to it, something you didn’t think you would be accustomed to. He called you pet names a lot and your heart trembled to every one of them. You still couldn’t get yourself to call him anything yet, merely his name. You were always too shy or embarrassed, thinking it would sound weird if you were the one who said it.

“Well, you didn’t think so a second ago. The first thing you literally asked me was if I was cold. Turn Dad Mode off for three minutes.” You pouted, but obviously melted in his arms. He pulled away and his devilish smirk remained on his face. His eyes turned dark while raising a curious eyebrow. He embraced you once more.

You felt his sneaky hands roam their way under your dress. His skin brushing your under clothed thighs. “Turn Dad Mode off, you say? I can do that.” His voice was low and sensual. You held onto his wrist before they could reach to your butt.

“Jimin! That was not what I meant.” You giggled, flustered at his actions. He laughed and kissed your cheek. His hands retreating from under your dress. “Anyways, what were you rambling on about before? And where’s Jen?”

Jen baby sat during the weekends for you and Jimin to enjoy yourselves. You have gotten to know her over the course of the months and you adored her joyful nature. You two got along harmoniously. She would tease you and Jimin a lot, knowing you two liked each other quite a bit.

“That’s the thing. Minjoo’s going on a date.” Jimin scoffed and rolled his eyes. He crossed his arms as the two girls ran out from their rooms. They were wearing cute little onesies.

“Ms. (Y/N)!” They cheered and hugged your legs. “You look so pretty. Daddy, I want to wear a dress like Ms. (Y/N) too!”

“Yeah, Daddy! I want to match with her too.” The twins begged and pulled at Jimin’s arms. He sighed and nodded. They squealed and hurried to change.

“Isn’t she like six?” You laughed, but Jimin wasn’t. He had a frown and his eyebrows were knitted together.

“Yeah, but Jen said it was a harmless child play date. It was going to be like just two children playing around.” He grumbled, still gripping the sock in his hand.

You rubbed his arm, completely entertained by how fumed he was. “Aw, Papa Beaw, are you mad your wittle daughter is finally growing up?” You teased. Jimin narrowed his eyes at your banter.

“I’m worried for her, (Y/N). The male specimen are animals. I can’t let a demon boy tarnish my angel.” He whined and complained. He was really protective over his daughters and you found it ridiculous, but adorable.

“If the male specimen are animals, what does that make you? Am I tainted now that I have gone out with you more than five times?” 

“I’m different. I asked you to go on dates after several months of getting to know you. This boy probably didn’t speak to her for more than twenty minutes before asking her out.” Jimin talked with his hands occasionally, flinging them around to prove his point.

You crossed your arms, “I thought we don’t call them dates. Also, who is this boy? They might be in the same class.” 

“We’re calling them dates now that you called them dates. His name is Jihoon.” 

Your eyes lightened up at the name, more ecstatic than you were before for Minjoo, “Jihoon? They’re like super close. That’s adorable. I didn’t know they liked each other.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Besides Minseo, Jihoon’s really the only other person Minjoo talks to. They sit next to each other all the time and I see them talk a lot. Jihoon is such an obedient child and he’s very nice, you don’t have to worry about him.”

Jimin wasn’t giving up his stance, “that’s what they all say. Boys eventually grow out of that and they’ll become heart rippin-”

“Daddy, do we look pretty!?” Minjoo twirled in her little dress. A smile beaming on her face.

Minseo stepped out and join her sister in a curtsy. The sight was absolutely unbearable. You wanted to scoop them up in your arms and pamper them with small kisses. The feeling of love was overwhelming, like seeing puppies cuddled up next to sleeping babies. It made you mushy and you knew that’s exactly what happened to Jimin too.

He crouched down and fixed their stray hairs, “my princesses are growing up now, they’re pulling at the heart strings of little boys.” 

“Daddy, don’t cry. We’ll always be your girls.” Minseo jumped and gave Jimin a squeeze. 

“We’re going to be late! I don’t want Jihoon to be waiting.” Minjoo nagged and didn’t forget to put on a jacket. Minseo reached out her arms for you to carry her, and you picked up the young girl. Her face immediately cuddling up against yours.

“Do I look just as pretty as you, Ms. (Y/N)?” She asked. 

You nodded, “even better.” 

The date was mellower compared to your usual dates with Jimin. The girls were with you because Jimin had to supervise. You guys had dinner and gone out for ice cream. Later on, you five went to the park where Minjoo and Jihoon chased each other endlessly. Minseo happily played with the other kids there.

It was simple, but nice. It helped wrap up the fast paced week you endured on a regular. “I’m sorry we couldn’t go somewhere else.” Jimin apologized as you two sat on a bench, observing the playground in front of you two.

The night was settling in slowly and the tonic blue hung low over the park. The warm breeze tickled your bare arms and danced with your hair. You rested your head on Jimin’s shoulder. “I had fun, honestly. This was really calming and it was just the thing I needed to end my hectic week.” 

“But we have to watch the kids and I feel like it should’ve been our time—”

“Jimin, I wouldn’t trade this in the world. I’d go anywhere with you.” You whispered, knowing he was the only person who would be able to hear you.

He picked up your hand and placed it on his chest. You felt his quick, irregular heart beat and you heard him sigh. “You see what you do to me?”

“Oh, you’re worse, Park Jimin.” Your hand fell from his chest to cup your warm cheeks again. You didn’t know you made his heart do that. He mainly made your heart skip, not the other way around.

“I think you’re about the same, you just don’t know it.” He had his arm around the bench. You sat up and faced him.

“Then tell me what I don’t know. How do I make you feel?” You asked. He blinked back at you, unsure what to say. The tables have turned, Jimin stared at you, flustered.

Jimin leaned forward, tilting his head to fit your face. His eyes gradually came to a close and yours did the same. You felt his hot breath against your lips. He was so close, you could smell the scent of the shampoo you two had shared. His hand came up to caress your skin, to hold you steady. Your heart was pounding so loud, you heard and felt it in your ears. 

“Daddy!” A bloody scream interrupted the moment. You were so close. The same feeling from the first night at his house reappeared, it was all too familiar. Deja Vu.

Both of your eyes shot up and you were able to see every pore on his face. You cleared your throat, and got up. Jimin did the same as Minseo ran over. She looked distressed.

“What is it, baby?” Jimin sounded concerned. 

“I can’t find Minjoo and Jihoon.” She panted, tears spilling down her face. Your mouth went dry and you searched the playground right when those words came out of her mouth.

They weren’t anywhere. The last time you saw them, Jihoon was pushing Minjoo on the swings. Your heart started up again, but for a different reason. You were scared out of your mind. 

You scooped the crying girl in your arms, unsure what was happening. “Jimin.” 

“(Y/N).” You both sounded panicked. Jimin’s chest heaved up and down. He looked like he had the life sucked out of his system. You were petting Minseo’s hair, hoping she’ll stop crying. It was a mess.

“Jimin, search the trees.” You grabbed your purse from the bench. “I’ll look in the garden.” 

The park had many attractions addition to the play structure. It was next to a small wood area with tall trees that cut into the massive baseball field and recreational center. On the other side, there was a huge garden filled with a variety of lush plants and flowers. All of which was open for the public to get lost in.

“(Y/N), fast. It’s getting dark.” Jimin sprinted off into the direction of the trees and you walked quickly to the garden.

Minseo was bouncing in your arms and you mindlessly spoke to her. “It’s okay, Monkey. We’ll find them. Don’t cry. I’m here and your Daddy is here too. We’ll find them in no time.” 

“I was too busy playing with the other kids, I wasn’t paying attention to her. I’m sorry, Ms. (Y/N).” She wailed. You felt guilty that she blamed herself because it was partly your’s and Jimin’s fault. If only you two weren’t so immersed in yourselves, things would’ve been different.

“Monkey, it’s not your fault. We’re all going to be fine.” You weren’t sure about anything you were telling her. Frankly, you were so worried that you weren’t thinking straight and Minseo was getting heavy in your arms.

The garden seemed quiet and still. It was much bigger than you remembered. It spanned across a gigantic field, with bushes that lined the paths. You hurried into the abyss and called after the children’s names. Minseo helping you. 

“Minjoo! Jihoon!” The sky turned dark as you were running out of time. Your anxiety grew as you knew it wouldn’t be long until you were unable to see. Your hopes of finding them seemed slim and you grew weary. 

[A/N]: I’m horrible guys i know…… im leaving you AGAIN with ANOTHER cliff hanger im sorry IM TERRIBLE ughuahfuhURHGUHUHG!!! 

[bughead-is-riverdale]

Riverdale Imagine: The Playbook (Jason x Reader)

Requested by @pottersnitch : Could you please write something about Jason Blossom? Like he and the reader are dating and then she finds out about the playbook and have a huge fight but make up because of Cheryl.

 A/N: I had to type this up on my phone so there may be some spelling errors and I couldn't put anything in bold/italics so I'll edit it on my computer and add it to my masterlist when I get home from holiday. 

Approx. 2200 words 

As you rolled over in bed, the nausea you had been experiencing throughout the day threatened to resurface. You groaned and clutched at your empty stomach, it churned as if it was filled with a nest of slimy eels. You were drenched in sweat from fever, you knew that your bedroom was cold because it was the middle of winter and you could see the cloud of your breath escaping from your chapped lips as you exhaled, but the sickness-bug had trapped you in a permanent humidity. At some point during the day, you had even opened your bedroom window, and frost was beginning to creep onto the window sill. Hearing a gentle knock on your door, you forced yourself into a sitting-position, resting on a mountain of cushions. 

"Come in" you called weakly. 

"How's the patient?" you heard your favourite voice tease. You felt a smile spread across your face as a familiar red-haired boy peered around your door, his brown eyes regarding you with concern, making your heart flutter involuntarily. The few months that you and Jason had been together had felt like a dream. You had been pining after him for the majority of your high-school life, and you still couldn't quite believe that he was yours. As he almost glided into your room and cautiously sat down on the edge of your bed, a lock of his silky hair fell onto his forehead and you couldn't help but think that he was beautiful. He didn't have Archie's muscular frame, or Reggie's charming smile, but somehow he was much more attractive than any of the other boys at school. He looked delicate, like a porcelain doll with his pale complexion and angular features, and his muscle was lean and wiry, clinging to his lanky frame. He was just as strong as any other boy on the football team though, he would always carry you around at any opportunity, gathering you up like a princess in his arms. You watched in fascination as his long white fingers danced over the skin of your arm, the sensation of his touch sending what felt like an electric current through your body. You wondered if you would ever get used to this, or would his touch always make your heart lurch. Suddenly, his concerned expression turned into one of disapproval as his attention was caught by the open window, he frowned. 

"Y/N! No wonder you're ill, it's like Narnia in here!" Jason groaned, hastily closing your window. 

"No JJ!" you wined, "I'm too hot!" He sighed and opened the window again, but only slightly. 

"I brought you some ginger tea" he said proudly, pulling an enormous flask from his school bag, smiling like a child who had received a gold star. "It's supposed to help with nausea." You groaned internally. Your mum had practically been force-feeding you ginger tea for two days and you weren't sure how much more you could take. You smiled graciously at Jason though, it's the though that counts after all, you could always pour it down the sink later. 

"Thanks babe, that's so sweet of you" you enthused. "Also, could I possibly borrow your English book so I can catch up on today's notes?" He quickly dug through his bag and handed you the typical dark-green notebook that everyone used for English, before checking the time and muttering something about extra football practice. He leant towards you and kissed you sweetly on the cheek, his long lashes brushed your temple and his warm breath on your skin made your cheeks blush pink. He smelled like pine-wood and maple syrup and you wondered if you would ever stop loving this boy, you thought it was unlikely.

Later that evening, after you had subtly got rid of the abundance of ginger tea and successfully kept down some plain pasta, you unwillingly sat down at your desk and opened Jason's English book. Except, it wasn't his English book. The inside cover was entitled 'The Playbook' and the names of all the boy on the football team were written in block capitals, including Jason's. Assuming that it was a notebook that the team used to keep track of points scored during games, or fitness progress, you turned a few of the pages curiously. As you scanned a couple of pages however, a cold feeling began to spread through your body, it was as of the temperature in the room had suddenly plummeted. The boys weren't keeping track of their football progress at all, they were recording their sexual 'conquests'. Your heart began to thump forcefully in your chest as you flipped through the pages with shaking hands, anxious to discover if Jason's 'conquests' had also been recorded, and if you were among them. As you turned the next page, the paper slipping through your frozen fingers, you wanted to throw up at what you saw. 'JASON BLOSSOM' was written across the top of the page in typical untidy boyish scrawl, that wasn't what horrified you though. Under the names of Jason's ex-girlfriends and hook-ups read: 

Y/N Y/L/N - 8/10 points for appearance, 10 points for being a virgin (extra 10 points when you take her virginity), but lose 5 points for feelings

You could have sworn that you felt your heart crack. The boy you had been in love with for years was only dating you so he could record you in some stupid playbook, so he could compete with his friends. Had he been planning to just dump you once he had taken your virginity? To collect his points and move onto the next girl? Your eyes stung with tears and you gritted your teeth in anger, you would not cry over this, you promised yourself. Instead, you took careful photos of each page in 'The Playbook' and texted them to both your best-friends, Betty Cooper and Veronica Lodge, with a quick explanation as to what you had discovered. 

BC: What the fuck is this? Xx 

VL: Chuck is going down if he ever thought he could 'score' me in some fucking book!! Xx  

A cold smile spread across your features as you were suddenly hit with how to expose the football team and break up with Jason at exactly the same time. 

Y/N: Alright girls, we're going to put on a little show xx

"I can't believe how many times I've been recorded in this stupid book" Veronica seethed, her perfectly manicured nails digging into the book's dark-green cover. "Half of these have just been made up, I never made out with Reggie at the Christmas party." 

"It's irrelevant whether it's true or not, Ronnie" Betty cautioned, "the book just shouldn't exist." 

"As for Jason" Veronica continued in an alarmingly threatening voice, "I'm going to rip his balls out from under him with -" 

"Talk of the devil" you muttered, watching your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend saunter down the hall with at least half of the football team. Perfect. His chocolate-brown eyes lit up when he saw you and he jogged over to where you were standing by the lockers, his red hair ruffled slightly. Normally, the sight of him made your heart warm, but right now all you wanted to do was punch his beautiful face. 

"Hey babe, are you feeling better?" Jason asked sweetly, his head cocking to one side like an adorable puppy, a strand of his ginger hair fell over his eyes. You resisted the urge to push it out of his face, clenching your hands by your sides and staring at him coldly instead. 

"Yes, last night I began to feel a lot better" you began, he frowned slightly at the monotonous tone you were using. "But then I read this." Veronica handed you 'The Playbook' and you waved it accusingly in Jason's face. You watched as his expression faltered, his cheeks drained of colour and his eyes widened. "I suppose you know what this is?" 

"Y/N, I can explain -" he stammered. 

"Actually" you interrupted, "I think the book is pretty self-explanatory don't you think?" 

You were beginning to attract people's attention now. Teenagers who were previously engrossed in their phones, or engaged in conversation, were suddenly drawn into the confrontation by the lockers. 

"Hey Josie!" You called out to the lead singer of 'The Pussycats', "did you know that Reggie won a whole ten points for kissing you at a party? You're quite a catch, huh? And Val" you continued, turning to the curly-haired girl, "Archie got five points for cheating on you with Cheryl. Didn't you know that? Because it's all recorded in this book." You smiled sweetly at Archie, who was standing just behind Jason, he appeared to be turning a slight green colour and he flashed a guilty look at Val before she stalked down the corridor. 

"For anyone who wants to read 'The Playbook'" Betty chimed in, "I've published a copy in the Blue and Gold, there is a stack of papers in every classroom." There was a moment of silence, and then the room exploded. Students ran towards the closest classroom in order to snatch up a copy of the football team's crime. Jason didn't move though, he was still staring at you with the same pained expression. 

"Y/N, please can we talk about this?" he begged, clearly sensing the unforgiving anger that was radiating off you in waves. 

"There is nothing to talk about" you hissed, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. 

"Please, I'm sorry -" 

"I don't want your meaningless apologies. All I ever was to you was some casual hook-up, a method in which to win a game with your friends" you were almost shouting now. 

"That's not true! I didn't write you into that book!" he answered back, his voice rising too. 

"No, but you told them about us! You let them turn me into a fucking points-system!" 

"I'm sorry, I'll make this up to you. How do I make this better between us? I'll do anything." his voice had dropped to a whisper. 

"You can't do anything except leave me alone. Don't ever speak to me again." The tears you had been holding back spilled from your eyes as you watched Jason's lip quiver, he was shaking his head. Before he had the chance to say anything else, you turned and ran down the corridor, Veronica and Betty following close behind. 

The air was filled with exited chatter, and the scent of sweat and perfume was overwhelming. Music blared, colourful lights flashed, and people huddled in groups, gossiping and dancing. The Blossoms' annual end-of-school party was always one of the most anticipated events in Riverdale, you couldn't quite believe that you had received an invitation after what had happened between you an Jason six months ago. As your anger about 'The Playbook' situation had faded, you couldn't help but feel slightly hollow inside, like something was missing. Despite the fact that several guys had asked you out since the break-up, you didn't feel as though you could accept. As much as you hated to admit it, you were still hung up on Jason. Although Betty understood - she had been in love with Archie for years before Jughead came along and swept her off her feet - Veronica was much less forgiving, encouraging you to 'play the field, assuring you that Jason had probably hooked up with multiple girls since. Although, you hadn't seen any evidence of it. 

"Y/N! Oh my God you came!" You spun around, wobbling slightly on your heels, and widened your eyes at the sight of Cheryl Blossom beaming at you. You had spoken to Cheryl a few times when you had been dating Jason, but definitely not since. You narrowed your eyes slightly in suspicion as Cheryl brought you in for a tight hug. 

"Uh, hi Cheryl. Nice party" you mumbled, still in shock. 

"Of course!" she chimed, then her voice dropped to a whisper. "I really need to talk to you, come with me." Before you could object, she was dragging you upstairs. "JJ is still really messed up about your break-up, he won't even come down for the party!" She pouted, clearly disapproving of her brother's stubbornness. 

"I seriously doubt that" you muttered. 

"You two ended things really badly and he didn't get the chance to properly apologise" she scolded, making you feel as though everything was your fault. "Besides, you have been ignoring his calls." You scowled at her, you had every right to ignore him. You were so busy glaring at Cheryl that you didn't notice where she was taking you. She pushed you gently into one of the numerous rooms that Thornhill consisted of and closed the door behind you with a click. You realised that she had led, or rather trapped, you into Jason's room. Although you had never been there, you recognised the posters of his favourite football team on the walls. As you turned around, your heart began to flutter and your cheeks reddened at the sight of Jason, standing awkwardly next to his bed, fidgeting with his bedcovers. He didn't look surprised to see you, only nervous. 

"Hi" he whispered softly. 

"Hi" you breathed. 

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