#i might write a short fic tho life is SO BUSY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

retrievablememories · 3 years

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picture me | johnny (m)

title: picture me pairing: vampire!johnny x black!reader genre: fantasy, romance, smut, fluff, angst summary: you meet a vampire-slash-photographer whose self-identity is increasingly lost to him, and you try to help him find some purpose again. word count: 18.3k warnings: age gap (cuz you know, vampires...but everyone is legal), mentions of discrimination/prejudice based on species, self-identity issues/self-deprecation, general angst, sheltered!reader, mentions of blood and drinking blood, oral sex (female and male receiving), fingering, thigh riding, loss of virginity, corruption kink, use of lube, unprotected sex (do not try at home), creampie, johnny is packing in this fic ok! a/n: today (the 28th) is my birthday, so i’m posting this 100% self-indulgent fic that i’ve been working on between requests since september. it was very hard to get johnny’s characterization right for this fic and idk if i actually succeeded but i’m not revising this for the 1000th time lol. i love this fic with my whole heart tho.

i haven’t seen many vampire fics that really explore the whole “doesn’t show up in mirrors/photos” concept (shout em out if you know em) and...there’s probably a reason for that, this shit is hard af to write and there are some logic issues but whatever 🤪

(the beginning quote is from “criminal,” stan taemin!!)

The moment I fall for you is the end of my innocence

—

He sits in the same coffee shop everyday, like it’s a habit he just can’t break. But who are you to judge? You’re there, too. Watching him like a creep. Or maybe like an interested coffee shop patron, trying to be discreet and failing at it.

He wasn’t hard to notice. You’d never been to this coffee shop before, but your friend recommended it to you mostly for their in-house-made pastries; she claimed the coffee was good, too, but she wasn’t much of a caffeine person. You decided to give it a try when you had time between classes and a moment to breathe, not needing to talk to this advisor or that professor.

You saw him immediately when you walked past the shop window. He was sitting at a table near the front, staring down at his phone with a small cup of coffee sitting in front of him. Its miniscule size was almost comical in contrast to his...everything. He was tall—that much was obvious even with him sitting down—and imposing, wearing all black. His hair was equally pitch-black, his bangs hanging to one side and the rest shaved in an undercut. If you didn’t know much better, you’d think you’d stepped back into 2007 and landed dead in the middle of the emo craze.

He was interesting to look at. Not in a bad way, but in a way you don’t see very often. Deciding to walk in before you made yourself look totally weird staring at him through the window, you’d stepped into the coffee shop, the small bell dinging above your head. A barista greeted you at your entrance. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the man, to your left, still looking at his phone.

You’d given your order and waited for it to be ready before taking it to a table on the other side of the shop. From that vantage point, you had a good view of the man. You tried to keep your eyes on your food and your phone, not wanting to spend the whole time looking at him, but it was a little hard not to.

When you took a bite of your pastry, you quickly discovered it was just as delicious as your friend promised—probably even more so. You made a noise of approval before you could catch yourself, and you glanced around the shop in embarrassment to see if anyone nearby noticed. Didn’t seem like it, at first. But then you glanced over to the man again only to find him looking at you below his eyelashes with a small, amused smile on his lips. He only kept his gaze on you for a second before returning to his phone.

What? You hadn’t thought you were that loud. How did he hear you from over there, and above the noise of the café? Even now, you remember how embarrassed you’d felt, ducking your head and looking away.

The man finished his coffee not long after that; he slipped his phone into his pocket and stood up. You glanced up only momentarily when he stood, but your eyes soon slid back to his form when you noticed something odd. On the wall behind him, there was a big oval mirror sitting pretty in its elaborate silver frame. He stood just a few feet in front of it, yet there was no reflection of him. The only thing you could see was the other side of the café reflected back, with another man sitting alone at a booth enjoying his own coffee. The tall man’s reflection was nowhere to be found.

That was when you figured he must be a vampire.

You’d never met one before. At least, you didn’t think you had until then.

Unbeknownst to you, vampires are notoriously able to blend in more easily than most other supernatural beings—until faced with situations like that one in the coffee shop. Ultimately, there’s no faking a reflection no matter how hard you try to remain inconspicuous.

The man had caught your eye again. Thinking back on it, you aren’t sure of what expression you had on your face or what it must’ve looked like to him. It must’ve been something akin to surprise, though; you weren’t quick enough to disguise your reaction at his lack of a reflection.

He gave you another smile, though it felt sadder than the previous one, and walked out of the store, the small bell on the door ringing at his departure. He disappeared down the street in a swirl of black fabric, almost like something out of a movie, and you watched him retreat until you could see him no more.

You scraped your index fingernail over the wood table your food was resting on, your mind whirring with all kinds of thoughts. Your interest was piqued. And yet there was no way for you to know if you’d see him again.

—

At least, that’s what you believed then. Luckily for you, your subsequent visits to the coffee shop have proven fruitful; the strange, tall vampire is there more often than not, always in the same spot in front of that same mirror. Sometimes he reads a book, other times he looks at his phone, and other times still, he stares out the window at the passersby.

He acknowledges you whenever he sees you, either with a nod or a smile. You’ve never spoken to each other, though you know what his voice sounds like from hearing him talk to the baristas. It’s a nice voice, rich and handsome like him, and you find yourself gradually wanting to hear it spoken in your direction. But you aren’t sure how to talk to him, or what you should say.

There’s a lot you want to know about him and his vampirism, but you don’t think it’s fair to bombard him with questions right after meeting him—if you could somehow work up the nerve for that first step.

When you were young, your parents made sure to keep you safely sheltered away from anyone who could potentially be a vampire or any other nonhuman being. This game kept up until you went to college, where they could no longer “shield” you. Because of their lifelong fear and disgust, your knowledge of nonhuman beings is scarce and mostly inaccurate.

The man’s skin isn’t deathly pale like you’ve heard others say vampires always are. It’s nicely tanned, in fact. Nor are his eyes red, or his canine teeth abnormally sharp. And obviously, he has no aversion to sunlight, otherwise he wouldn’t be out here during the day. The only visible marker of his inhuman nature is his lack of a reflection. Maybe he’s not a vampire at all? Maybe he’s another type of being entirely. That only makes you more curious.

It’s not rare to come across supernatural beings, but they only make themselves known if they want to, or if it’s imperative to their survival. Most of them would rather quietly assimilate amongst humans or stay safe and hidden within their own communities. Humans are still too judgmental towards those who are different from themselves for nonhumans to feel truly safe or welcomed—at least not on a global scale. Small pockets of communities forged with human allies are helpful and sometimes vital for survival, but not always enough.

These small tidbits of information cycle through your mind as September gradually bleeds into October. You continue watching the thoughtful man in the coffee shop and making up your own secret theories about his life. You haven’t told anyone from school about this, because you already know the reaction would be nothing short of awful. Your parents would only let you go to school at the one university in the city that explicitly didn’t allow supernatural beings; it goes without saying that your classmates don’t view them in a positive light.

Part of you feels like you might be breaking the unspoken rules just by being at this coffee shop all the time and allowing this man to take up space in your mind. But who will know what’s inside your thoughts except you?

One day, your friend decides to accompany you on your lunch break, finally stopping by the café she recommended to you. The man is already there, as usual, and he smiles slightly when you and your friend enter. She doesn’t catch this, too busy wondering what she’s going to get off the menu today.

“I haven’t been here in forever, I wonder if Sam still remembers me?” You know Sam to be one of the baristas there, having read it on their name tag before.

“I doubt there are very many people who’d forget you,” you answer.

When you both have your food, you take a booth farther away from where the man sits, though you can still see him easily from this distance. Your friend settles into the seat in front of you.

You try to keep things inconspicuous throughout your conversation, but you must glance over at him one too many times, because your friend eventually raises her eyebrows questioningly. She turns around in her seat, making it obvious that she’s looking, and you groan as you keep your eyes in the opposite direction towards the window.

“Who’s that guy you keep staring at?”

You cough. “No one.”

“He’s obviously someone. Someone interesting enough to hold your attention.”

“I don’t know the man,” you say curtly. You shuffle your napkin and spoon aimlessly, your nervousness rising. What if he has some kind of enhanced hearing and can hear what you’re saying right now? He definitely heard you make that noise that first day.

Your friend looks at the ceiling and blows air out of her mouth. “Whatever. I’ll find out who he is sooner or later.”

You take a sip of your drink and lower your voice to just above a whisper. Although you want to leave the subject alone, you’re curious about one thing. “You mean you’ve never seen him before? This café was your hangout spot before it was mine.”

She shrugs. “No, I think I would’ve remembered someone as...visually striking as him. Why are we whispering, anyway? It’s not like he can hear us above all this noise.”

You think to yourself, I’m not so sure about that, but you merely shake your head.

You spend a few more minutes talking before movement catches the corner of your eye. At this point, it’s practically a reflex for you to look in that direction. You try not to, but your friend has already caught you and turns her head to spy, too. The man has gotten up for whatever reason to say something to one of the baristas at the counter. Your gaze darts back to your cup after you’ve gotten your eyeful, but you’re nearly startled into dropping the cup at your friend’s gasp.

Oh. The mirror.

She grips the edge of the table. “He’s a vampire…?”

You don’t know what to say to that, and you feel oddly guilty for some reason you can’t pinpoint. Like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “U-um, I don’t know…?” You can hardly finish your thought before your friend is scrambling to grab her purse. She hurriedly stands out of the seat, tugging your arm as she does.

“Come on. We shouldn’t stay here.”

“Are you serious—?” You feel embarrassed heat rip through your body at her display; some other café-goers are already looking at her curiously, probably wondering what the hell she’s doing. She tugs more incessantly, and you already know she’ll get louder if you don’t get up now and defuse the situation. Leaving your half-full cup behind, you grab your things and follow her out of the store, keeping your eyes firmly on her back as you pass by the man. You don’t know if he looked up, or if he could sense the reason for your sudden departure—you’ve never left the shop before him until now—and you don’t want to know.

Neither of you talk until you’re well down the street and around the corner. “That wasn’t necessary,” you huff, your hands still sweating from the spiked adrenaline at suddenly being rushed out.

“Yes it was! We all know bloodsuckers and all these other weirdos are dangerous...even if they think they’re being well-intentioned by living among humans. I hope you don’t go back there.”

“Whatever...you’re the one who told me to visit the café,” you mumble, unable to muster up the energy to say anything more. You both know very well she can’t tell you where to go, but you hope she doesn’t mention this to your other acquaintances on campus and make it into a bigger deal than it is.

When you part ways with your friend and get back to your dorm, you realize you’re missing your planner. The planner with all your upcoming assignment dates in it. You sigh heavily and roll your eyes, knowing it must’ve happened in the chaos of her pulling you out of the shop. Maybe if you’re really lucky, it’ll still be there, picked up by an employee or simply left untouched. Knowing how many people go through that café in a day, you’re not optimistic.

For the first time since visiting the quaint little shop, you’re not anticipating returning and seeing the man again, afraid he’ll ignore you or look at you with distaste—like you’re just another unsympathetic human. And would he be wrong to think that? You’re only strangers to each other.

You try not to dwell on it too hard when you go to bed that night.

When lunch rolls around the next day, you hesitate a couple times on your way to the café, not wanting to show up. However, the desire to see what became of your planner pushes you forward. You don’t even have to stay; if it’s there, you’ll take it and leave. If it’s not—oh well. You can still leave. It’s not hard to buy another.

He’s there when you arrive, of course.

He nods at you when you step inside, though he doesn’t smile as he’s become accustomed to doing. You nod back, but you can’t ignore the renewed rush of embarrassment you feel. You linger at the entrance for a second longer, wondering if maybe you should say something. Apologize, even? But what if he really didn’t know what was going on yesterday? Then how odd would you look for bringing it up?

You decide to move on and go back to the booth to search for your belongings, but his voice stops you. This takes you by surprise.

“Did you come back for this?”

You turn to him to see him holding your planner in his hand. You stare, momentarily dumbfounded, and almost shake your head before realizing it is yours. Definitely the same sticker-covered, scribbled-all-over planner.

“Oh—y-yeah. Thank you.” He passes it to you, though you notice he’s very careful not to let your hands touch. You’re a little perplexed about why, but then the rumors about vampires having cold skin pop up in your mind. Maybe that’s actually true, too. “I usually don’t lose things so easily, but…” Your voice falters, and you don’t know how to finish that sentence without bringing up the other day’s events.

He doesn’t seem to mind as he replies, “It happens to all of us sometimes...I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my camera.”

“You take pictures?” you ask, a tinge of curiosity in your voice.

He nods. “I take photos of anything that interests me. Which often ends up being everything I see. I work at an art museum, so I guess having an eye for photography comes in handy.” He hesitates for a second, then says, “I could show you some?” He waves his phone, indicating that the photos are there.

“Oh, sure.” The man gestures for you to sit down in the empty chair in front of him, and you do so. He swipes through his phone a few times until he settles on what he’s searching for, then puts the device on the table and slides it to you. You lean forward to look at it and see that it displays an album full of pictures, simply titled with the emoji “🌌.”

“It’s okay, you can pick it up.” He chuckles. You pick up the phone and swipe through the numerous pictures. Many of them are nighttime shots of the moon, trees, half-empty streets, darkened storefronts. Others depict nature scenes at sunset or the beginning of sunrise, with the sky colored in darker hues. No matter what the subject matter is, they all look to be professionally taken, even for an iPhone.

“Wow, these are nice. You said you work at a museum…are you a professional photographer, too?”

The man shrugs, and as you look at his slight grin, you realize you still don’t know his name. “Something like that, I guess.”

“You should be if you aren’t already,” you say, looking through more photos. “I’m sure you’d make a lot of money.” When you reach the end of the album, you go to hand the phone back to him but realize he’ll probably want to avoid contact again, so you slide it across the table. He takes it and slips it into his pocket.

“I don’t really care about the money,” he responds. “I just like it because…” He trails off, unsure how to convey his thoughts, wondering if he should even get that personal with a stranger. “It...helps me pass the time.” He’s not quite satisfied by that answer—it doesn’t feel like enough—but it’s all he can think of on the spot.

“Well, that’s nice too. It’s always good to have a hobby just for the sake of it...not for anyone’s benefit but your own.”

“Do you have one?” He takes a sip of his coffee. You don’t expect to be asked about your own interests, and your mind goes blank as you try to think. Why does this always happen when I’m asked these kinds of questions?

“Um, just different things here and there.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he says, amused.

“It’s not that, I just don’t have a ton of hobbies or anything. I’m kinda boring, so…” And wasn’t allowed to do much of anything until I left home.

“Being boring isn’t always a bad thing.”

You lean back in your seat, shrugging slightly. “Maybe if you see it that way. My friends don’t.”

“Would one of those happen to be the same one who dragged you out of here yesterday?” He speaks casually, putting his cheek in his hand. You slump further down in your seat, feeling exposed. Of course there was no escaping this topic. He notices your mood shift and shakes his head. “You don’t have to feel so bad about it. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.”

“I’m sorry for all that mess,” you murmur, unable to meet his eyes. “Really, I am.” You stand up from the seat, gripping your planner. “Thanks again for this. I don’t want to take up any more of your time today.” You’re about to turn to leave when he speaks again.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know…you could talk with me whenever you feel like it.” That’s the last thing you expect him to say. His voice takes on a quality that’s...not what you’d call begging, but it’s clear he’d enjoy some company. Maybe he’s doing this for your benefit as well as his own, because it’s obvious how your eyes always stray to his little corner.

You nod, giving him an apprehensive smile. “I’ll keep that in mind, then.”

The rest of your day after that is uneventful, full of classes and unexciting lectures, but you keep thinking of one thing. Though he appears to enjoy his time in the coffee shop, how lonely must he really be? There’s never anyone else around him. His eyes when he’d spoken to you held a certain sadness.

And you still didn’t get his name.

You don’t see him for the next few days, mostly because you aren’t at the café. You’ve gotten busy with a new project and haven’t had as much time to return to the coffee shop, mostly spending your time in the library instead.

When you finally get a chance to buy lunch outside campus, he’s not there. This disappoints you more than you thought it would, and you wonder what his absence means. Did he just decide not to come today, or has he found another place to frequent? You kind of hope the second option isn’t the case, though you also don’t know why you’re even caring this much about where someone else goes on their own time.

You get a drink to-go this time, deciding you’ll just take it back to the library and continue your studies there. The entryway bell rings behind you as you wait for your order to be made, though you don’t pay it much attention; half of your mind is still occupied with what you need to do next for your project.

When you turn around to leave the shop with your drink, you’re surprised to see the man standing there, waiting to get his own coffee. “You’re late,” you blurt out. You immediately feel silly for saying it, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

He gives you a slight smile. “Yes, I am.” Then he spots your to-go cup. “Are you leaving?”

“Uh, well,” you glance at your drink, “are you staying?”

He nods as he steps up to the counter. “Yeah, I’m staying. My offer’s still open, by the way.”

Right. The offer to talk to him sometimes. You’re tempted to stay awhile and talk to him now, though you don’t even know what about. Your project? That’s boring. Him being a vampire? Too invasive. Your school? Also boring, and probably not the best idea considering which one you attend.

“I...think I’ll stay, then.”

You both sit at his usual table, with you grinning nervously.

“How are you? I noticed you hadn’t showed up in a while,” he asks, settling back in his chair.

“Yeah, I’m doing fine, I’m just busy with school stuff. These teachers don’t give us a break.” You laugh a little, shaking your head.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He grins. “I never did go to college, but I’ve always heard others talk about how tiring it is. And expensive.”

“They’re right.” You roll your eyes at the thought of it. “But I guess it’ll all be worth it in the end. Maybe. If the economy isn’t in the toilet.” The sound of his laughter is nice, and you’re glad you could make him laugh. “Also, I’m sorry—I don’t know how this flew under the radar, but I don’t know your name.”

He shrugs. “Nothing to apologize for, really. It’s Johnny.”

You tell him your name, too. “Since I haven’t seen you lately...how are you doing?” You circle your hands around your to-go cup, feeling its warmth transfer to your palms as you await his answer.

“I think I can say I’m the same as always—which is fine. Life slows down a little when you have a lot of time on your hands.” Johnny’s lips quirk up at that, and you think he might be referring to his vampirism. Your eyes widen a little.

“What’s that like? Having so much free time. I wouldn’t know much about that right now, but…”

“Maybe not as pleasant as you think it’d be. But there’s good in it. Like coming and going when you want to. And you can take up whatever interests you want without worrying as much about busy schedules.” You already know he’s alluding to his photography. “I do like having a job, though…it gives me structure.”

“You’re probably right…I wouldn’t know the first thing to do if I had a ton of free time…like, which hobbies to pick up first.” You consider how you initially thought about him being lonely and wonder if that’s one of the unpleasant parts he hinted to. “Speaking of hobbies...did you take any new pictures lately?”

Johnny nods. “Most of them were on my camera this time, but some are on my phone. You want to see?”

“Yes!”

Johnny lets you have his phone again to look through the newest pictures he’s taken. There are varying shots of car-lined streets and storefronts, some of the latter decorated with glowing jack-o-lanterns for the onset of October. A pigeon sits on a streetlamp during the daytime, holding its head up like royalty upon a throne. In another image, a stray cat and her kittens huddle in an alley, the babies grooming each other while the mother looks quizzically at the camera.

You recognize a few photos from the nearby park; he also had some pictures of it the last time you looked. “Do you go to this park often?”

“Yeah, it offers some great shots. It’s especially pretty if you go just before the sun sets...the light filters through the tree leaves and it looks kinda like a kaleidoscope.”

“Ah, I’ve never seen that before…” you say a little sadly. Your parents didn’t much like taking you to that park when you were younger because of how far it is from their house. And since living away from them, you’ve only been able to visit it during the early hours of the day—like now.

Johnny looks closely at you. “Would you ever want to?”

“If it’s as pretty as you say, I should.” You slide the phone back across the table to him, not catching what he’s trying to hint at as you keep talking. “Do you go anywhere else besides here and the park?” As soon as you say it, you realize this might sound a little rude and try to make a quick save. “I mean, do you have any other favorite places? I’m not trying to say you don’t have a life or anything!”

Johnny laughs at your slight panic at thinking you’ve offended him. “Nothing too out-there, I guess. The bookstore, the photography store, the theater. Pretty much all the same places others visit.”

“The movies are fun.” You trace your finger across the table’s surface, thinking of your own favorite spots. “Me and my friends like to go downtown. There are a lot of cute little shops down there…”

You and Johnny talk for a while longer, and you almost forget you have to get back to campus until you glance at the wall clock. “Oh no, I’m gonna be late.” Flustered, you jump out of your seat and crumple your empty cup. “Sorry to cut it short, Johnny, but I gotta go back now.”

He smiles good-naturedly and nods, his dark bangs sweeping his face. “I understand.” As he watches you gather your things and get ready to go, he speaks up again. “Actually, if you want to see the park at sunset sometime...I could show you? It’s up to you.”

You pause, suddenly curious at the thought of seeing him outside the café. In the back of your mind, you feel a little paranoid and afraid of your friend or maybe even your parents seeing you there with him, though the latter is extremely unlikely. It’s hard to shake that familiar fear of judgment and ostracism when it’s been ingrained in you since childhood. “That sounds good. If it’s not any trouble for you…?”

“Never too much trouble. I usually get off around 4 on Fridays, just before the sun sets at 5. Unless the weekend is better for you?”

You nod, holding your books tighter to your chest. “Friday will work for me! I’ll meet up with you then.”

Johnny smiles. “Great; I’ll see you then, kind stranger.”

Maybe he says it to be joking or quirky, to sound like one of those characters in a movie or drama, but it makes you smile. Nodding to him again, you step out of the café and rush towards the direction of your school. Johnny watches as you retreat, your roles reversed.

You meet up with Johnny at the park that Friday, just as you both agreed. You spot him sitting on a bench near the park entrance, waiting on your arrival.

Johnny’s wardrobe is still mostly dark, but it’s a little lighter than usual today. He’s changed things up with a white polo shirt underneath his black sweater. Seeing him dressed like this, you wonder what he’d be like as a student, or maybe even a university professor.

He stands up when you get closer, hearing the sound of your footsteps approaching and turning towards you. His camera sits safely around his neck, the lens catching in the light of the sun.

When you stop in front of him, he smiles at you warmly. You try to relax into the genuineness of that smile and ignore the still-lingering traces of anxiety about being out with him. “Hi, Johnny!”

“Hi, Y/N.”

You and Johnny walk around the park as he looks for something interesting to shoot. He snaps a few shots of the trees, fallen leaves, bushes, and other natural elements along the way, though it seems like he hasn’t quite captured what he wants yet.

“Are you looking for something specific?” you ask, peering at his camera as he holds it in his hands.

“There’s an aster bush around here,” he responds. “It hadn’t fully bloomed yet the last time I was here, but it should be open by now.”

It turns out he’s right as you two finally come up on the bush. Its blooms make bright purple smudges against the rest of the landscape, which is a monochrome red-and-orange palette from the leaves changing their hues. You watch as he comes up to the bush carefully and quietly, like it’s a small animal he’s afraid to scare away. Johnny is very attentive while taking pictures of it, always conscious of getting the correct lighting and securing the exact angles he wants to capture. “Compassionate” is not a word you’d usually associate with the act of taking photos, but that’s the only word you can currently think of to describe this display. He treats the flowers with a peculiar sense of respect, as if they’re a human subject.

After he’s gotten the images he wants, Johnny offers you his camera to take a few of your own. You’re anxious about holding his prized possession and are afraid you’ll find a way to mess something up, but he promises you it’s fine. You take a few shots of the sky, still with a few wisps of clouds left, and a nearby tree that’s almost stripped bare of leaves. You know the shots will probably end up blurry from your unsteady hands, but Johnny tells you you’ve done a good job anyway.

Something about getting his approval makes a pleasant warmth settle in your chest.

As you both walk down a long trail, you finally ask him, “Sorry if this is invasive, but I was wondering how old are you? Like...as a vampire.” Your voice becomes hesitant on the word vampire, even though you’re the only two in this part of the park.

He chuckles a bit. “I’m 85.” You try not to look surprised. “I’ve been turned for 60 years. Old, but probably a little younger than most vampires you’d think of.”

“Kinda,” you say quietly. “They’re always like 2,000 years old in movies.”

“The ancient vampires are purebloods. They keep to themselves and avoid mingling with turned vampires, let alone humans. Some people are even skeptical if they exist. Supposedly, they use humans as servants or blood banks.” He gives you an apologetic look after saying this, though you don’t really know why. You don’t get the feeling he’d do that to another being, but he is still mostly a stranger... “At least, that’s what my mentor told me.”

Your curiosity is roused at all this new knowledge. “You had a mentor?”

“An older woman. She was also a turned vampire.”

“Turned, huh…”

Johnny nods, toeing at a small pile of leaves on the ground. “She went away eventually, said people are meant to pass in and out of each other’s lives. I don’t think she ever had intentions to stay. But I enjoyed her company while she was there.” Johnny stops at a short bridge above a small manmade lake, and you both look down into the water.

You place your arms on the bridge railing so you can lean over more. You notice he doesn’t have a reflection in the water, and this startles you more than you expected. Before meeting this strange man, you’d never thought much before about why vampires don’t have mirror reflections, but it seems even more unnatural to see this phenomenon happen again in the lake.

You find yourself looking at the side of Johnny’s face, trying to read his expression as he peers into the water’s depths. He turns to you, and you flinch at being caught staring, but he only smiles slightly. You force yourself to form words and break the silence. “What—what did you do after she left?”

“Lived on my own. She taught me a lot of things to help me live independently as a vampire, so it wasn’t too difficult to get along without her...but emotionally? A different story.”

“You sound like you had a very close relationship with her.”

“Yes. Quite close…” Johnny’s tone suggests something deeper, more intimate than a regular friendship. You feel a bit astounded at the idea of him having an older, more worldly lover while being only a newly changed vampire. Your reaction makes you feel foolish, inexperienced. Still, you can’t help imagining a scenario of them living in a big, dark mansion somewhere in the mountains, rolling around in a bed with bloody red sheets—and maybe drinking from the occasional naïve, misled human hiker.

Strangely, too, you feel jealous at his freedom, his ability to go wherever and do whatever with whoever he wants without overbearing relatives always just a step away.

You continue staring at the ripples as they circle in and out of the water’s surface, the motions triggered by a small orange leaf falling into the lake. You’re unsure of what could be the right thing to say to his admission, so you blurt out whatever comes to mind next. “You said she taught you to live independently as a vampire. What does that mean? How do you get...you know. Blood?”

“There are ways,” Johnny says cryptically, which makes your own blood rush faster. He turns to you with a grin, like he finds your naivety endearing. “It’s nothing drastic, though. At least, not for me. I never drink directly.” It does make sense that there are other ways to drink human blood without taking it straight from their necks, though you can only speculate on which methods he prefers. “Drinking directly is lethal, and often not worth it.”

“So, it’s true that vampire bites can kill?” You watch as Johnny pushes himself off the railing, and you follow him as he continues down the trail.

“It’s not false. But it’s never really that simple.” Johnny’s answer is mysterious, and he doesn’t elaborate further. He turns to you. “Where did you hear that, anyway? Your university? The one that bans all nonhuman beings?”

“You know where I go to school?” You feel embarrassed, thinking he must assume you’re like the rest of the student body who hates nonhumans but still nurtures an odd obsession with them.

“I saw it on your notebook one day, the school insignia. I’m not a stalker, by the way.” You laugh only slightly, and Johnny seems crestfallen when he notices your apprehension. “I don’t care if you attend school there. Just because you do doesn’t mean you think the way they do.”

“You must think I’m some weird opportunist, then,” you mutter, heat finding its way to your face. “Asking you all these questions...I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think anything except that you’re a pleasant person to be around.”

You’re quiet for a moment, letting the compliment sink in. You think you should probably give him one of his own, but before you can, he says, “Look. The sun’s already setting.” Just like he told you before, the dying rays filter through the tree leaves and create impossibly intricate patterns on your surroundings. You hold your hand out and watch the latticework that the leaves create dance over your open palm.

You let Johnny take a picture of your hand with the tree shadows flitting over it, but you shy away from the camera’s lens when he points it higher to your face, a questioning look in his eyes. “Maybe some other day.”

You walk around for a while longer until the sky bleeds into a dark purple. “I guess I should be going soon. It’s getting late,” you say, though you’re also a bit sad over your evening with Johnny meeting its end.

“Do you want me to take you back to campus? You shouldn’t walk back alone. My car is just in the parking lot there.” He points to it where it sits in the distance.

You look at Johnny with a confused gaze. “But you can’t come on campus. They have...things to ward off vampires.” Like gates made of pure silver, displaying intimidating, elaborately designed crosses. You don’t know if any of it actually works, but it’s probably better not to find out.

Johnny doesn’t seem bothered by this information. “Yeah…I know. I can just drop you at the street across from the main gate.”

You hesitate a moment longer but eventually agree. He is right; you’d rather not walk alone at night, and getting a ride with him is better—and cheaper—than calling for a rideshare.

The ride to the college is fairly quiet, with the radio filling the silence. It’s not an awkward type of stillness, at least, which you’re grateful for.

As he said he would, Johnny parks on the side of the street that sits in front of the main gate, just outside the immediate vicinity of the campus. The metal crosses stare back at the both of you, glinting in the light of nearby streetlamps. You turn your face away from them, biting the inside of your cheek.

You unbuckle your seatbelt. “Thanks again for the ride. I guess I’ll see you back at the shop next week, yeah?” Again, you get the urge to say something, anything, to remedy or cover up the foreboding source of discomfort sitting just in front of you, but there’s no one sentence you could say to wipe away decades of hatred.

Johnny nods and smiles, and still he shows no signs of being disturbed. He doesn’t cast another glance at the gates. “It’s no problem. See you then.”

You get out of his car and cross the street to get inside the gate; it’s early enough in the evening for it to still be open. Any later, and it’d be locked shut to even humans. You risk another wave at him before turning back around and heading for your dorm, which sits a few yards from the entrance. Johnny lets the car idle on the side of the street until you’ve walked into the dorm, and only then does he drive away.

It doesn’t take very long for you to warm up to Johnny inviting you to other places. The next time you and him go somewhere other than the coffee shop, you accompany him as he buys some film for his camera on one of his free days. You don’t know a ton about photography, so you’re more than happy to let him tell you all about how film works and why he buys certain kinds over others.

The place he frequents is a specialty photography shop that still carries older varieties of film—ones that fell out of favor once digital cameras became a thing. The store looks noticeably old, but not in an unkempt or decrepit way. You can tell it’s been around for a while, holding all kinds of history in its structure.

“There are so many different types.” You look over a shelf of film rolls in awe. “How can you tell them all apart?”

Johnny laughs. “It gets easier if you’ve been doing it for a while…or a few decades.” He picks one up from a row of them and holds it in front of you. “35mm is the most common type, which is what you’ll find the most of when you look through any film shop. That’s what I use.”

He sets that one down and walks past another display of film rolls, gesturing toward them. “There’s also 120 and 220 film formats here…those work for even older cameras, sorta like ones you’d see in 1930s movies. You can even turn a film camera into a digital camera.”

You nod to his words, looking over what seems like millions of film canisters—and occasionally glancing at the lines of his broad back as he walks ahead of you. “You should teach a photography class. I’d be more willing to listen to you than some old professor.”

Johnny snickers. “Huh, I don’t know. Not a professor, but I am old.”

You both continue walking through the store, with Johnny giving you the rundown on every item that catches your interest.

Like the coffee shop, there’s another mirror in this store. Many more, actually—there are whole rows of them on a series of shelves, all in varying sizes and shapes. They create a fragmented view of your form as you stand in front of them, though you don’t initially realize you’ve crossed into their glassy line of sight. You’re busier with looking at a roll of film Johnny’s handed you. When you notice your reflection shifting in your peripheral view, you look up.

Johnny’s only a few feet behind you, and you know this because you can hear him and feel his presence. Yet, it’s strange to see yourself as the only person in the aisle.

Eventually, he notices what’s got you preoccupied and comes to stand next to you. Though you see him clearly in front of your eyes, there’s no trace of him in the glass reflections.

Suddenly, you’re hit with the aching loneliness of it—how it must feel to never see yourself. You can see him with your own eyes, and so can everyone else who encounters him, but what must it be like to be virtually invisible outside of other peoples’ perceptions of you? You almost feel utterly alone even though you know he’s beside you.

Noticing your sudden melancholy, Johnny takes the film roll from your hand and tosses it up in the air, making it look like it’s moving on its own in the mirrors. He means to lighten the mood, if only to see the cloudiness disappear from your expression. It works to a degree, though you still feel downcast deep below.

“It’s not good to dwell on it.” Johnny presses the film roll back into your hand, still carefully avoiding skin contact. He has no problem meeting your eyes, though, and you shyly look away from his dark gaze after a few prolonged moments.

“You’re right,” you say softly, turning back to the aisle and away from the rows of mirrors.

—

You and Johnny head to the coffee shop after your trip to the photography store. Once you get your drinks and sit down in your usual spot, he speaks suddenly. “Something’s wrong.”

Your eyes dart around the shop, thinking he’s referring to one of the patrons around you. “What? What’s wrong?” Your voice comes out a bit panicked. He doesn’t want to laugh, but he does.

“No, I mean...something’s wrong with you. You seem far away.”

“Oh…” You wonder if you should even bring it up and potentially ruin the mood. But you have been curious for weeks now, and you don’t think you’ll get a trustworthy answer by asking anyone other than him. “I just...I was wondering why you don’t have a reflection. I know it’s a vampire thing, but I’ve never really known why...you don’t need to answer, though. Like you said, it’s not good to dwell on it.”

Johnny makes a motion like a half-nod once your question is revealed, his eyes darting to the window and back to the table. His fingers trace across the rim of his coffee cup, a thoughtful but stormy expression on his face, and you’re afraid you shouldn’t have reawakened this topic. “You know...being undead means being in two places at once.”

“Two places?”

“We are caught between the living world and the world of the dead. Something that’s not really supposed to exist, yet…” He’s quiet for a moment. “You can only imagine the kind of issues and side effects that can cause. One of them being no reflection.”

“I never thought of it like that,” you say. “Two planes of existence...what does it mean to be a part of the world of the dead?”

“Our blood runs slower. Ours is more like sludge compared to yours. The heart beats only a few times per minute. Don’t need to eat or sleep, either, though many vampires still do.” Johnny pauses. “How much do you really know about vampires?”

“I don’t know much about any of this...stuff.” You gesture vaguely, meaning all supernatural beings and not just vampires. “No one ever told me these things growing up, and it’s hard to tell truth from fiction at school. People will say anything, horrible things, and you just take it at face value, I guess. I never really thought to try to find the reality.” You sigh. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person in the world who doesn’t know anything.”

“Learning is good. You can always learn. I don’t think it’s too late for that.” Johnny’s voice is a little lighter. “Anyway, everyone’s knowledge is different. Sometimes it slips my mind that everyone doesn’t know what it’s like to live as a vampire, though the world never lets me forget for long.”

“Then…do you hang out with other vampires who do understand? Or…maybe humans who can sympathize?”

Johnny gives a humorless laugh. “Most humans are hesitant to interact with us, if not full-out terrified or disgusted. At the museum...it’s less pronounced because all the employees already know. They…tolerate it. But every time someone else realizes what I am and doesn’t take well to it?” He shakes his head, acts like he’ll say something else, and then abandons that line of thought. “And do you really think I’d want to spend my free time around other bloodsuckers?” He tries to play it off as a joke, but you’re more inclined to think he actually feels that way. You can only nod, feeling bad for him but also a little disturbed by his view of his own kind.

“I think you’re a kind person, and you being a vampire doesn’t affect that,” you say hesitantly. “I like talking to you. And even if you feel that way about other vampires, I…wish you wouldn’t feel that about yourself.”

Johnny remains quiet, but he nods. You wonder about the struggle occurring in his mind. The only outward hint of his uneasy state shows in the furrow of his eyebrows and the tense set of his mouth. With his right hand resting on the table, he rubs his fingers together absentmindedly, like he’s analyzing your words. You have a sudden and startling desire to hold his hand, to twine your fingers together and feel his skin on yours for the first time, but you don’t dare cross that boundary.

He finally replies with, “You’re much kinder to me, an old and bitter vampire, than you probably should be. But maybe that’s a good thing about you.”

“I think it’s a good thing,” you agree, your voice low. “Every living being needs companionship. Good companionship, anyway.”

The corners of Johnny’s lips shift in something reminiscent of a smile. He turns a rueful gaze once again to the window, lifting his coffee cup to his lips. “Aren’t I lucky to have yours, then.”

On a day when you don’t have as many responsibilities to juggle, you visit Johnny at the art museum after his working hours are up. He’d already invited you to come to the museum any day you felt like so he could show you around.

When you get there, he’s waiting in the visitor’s lobby for you, framed by receding sunlight as the day starts fading into night. He looks the same as he always does when you see him in the café on his lunch breaks, but within the context of the museum, he suddenly seems more…alive? Vibrant? He could’ve served as a muse for one of the many statuesque, perfectly proportional sculptures in the museum, and you’d never know anything different.

Your heartbeat increases at the sight of him, just enough to be outside the normal range.

“Hi, Johnny. I hope your day went well?”

“It was fine, nothing too crazy. But it’s better now.” And he smiles at you, sincere enough to make your heart ache.

“Oh—that’s great.” That’s it? You scold yourself internally, but you aren’t quick enough to think up a witty reply to his comment before the topic shifts.

“Is there anything in particular you wanna see first?” Johnny asks, leading you further into the museum.

“I guess I hadn’t thought too deeply about that…do you have a favorite exhibit? I want to see what you like.”

Johnny smiles faintly. “Let’s see, then.”

The dark-haired man takes you to a section of the museum filled with oil paintings, all by one singular artist. At first, all you see is varying shades of black and gray and red, with some white splashed in between. When you begin looking at the paintings more closely, it’s easier to see that each one depicts a different scene of chaos. Maybe a sort of organized chaos, but disarray all the same.

There is one picture that holds a clearer subject than the rest. One of the oil paintings is of a vampire—obvious by the fangs—with bloodied lips and anguished eyes. You pause when you catch sight of it, your steps stilled by the sheer frenzy in the other being’s painted eyes. Their hands reach out for the viewer as if begging for an escape that can only be provided by whoever’s observing.

“This one was painted by a fellow vampire, you know. The same one who did all the rest of the paintings in this gallery,” Johnny explains. He points at the placard next to the painting that displays the artist’s name and a short description of the piece. The word fellow comes off his tongue wrapped in cynicism. “And it was one of the ones I personally chose for this exhibit.”

You glance at him, a tinge of surprise blooming in your chest. “Really?”

He nods. “Who better to depict the ills of vampirism than a vampire themselves? I thought it was a…fascinating change of pace from all the humans who try and fail to do so, ironic as that is.”

If you look at the painting for long enough, you think you can recognize sadness in the corners of the vampire’s eyes—pure, unadulterated sadness. Different from anguish or panic. A similar mask of sadness you’ve seen on the man next to you.

You say nothing for a while. You simply feel the painful throb of your heart in your chest and listen to the small sounds around you. Even now, there are still other people exploring the museum and walking through this very exhibit, but you can’t hear or see any of them. Johnny notices the disconcerted look on your face, and his forehead creases. “But I’m sure you want to see something less…morbid than this, right? Come on.”

“Uh, I-I don’t mind,” you insist, even though you feel like you’ve just awoken from a painful trance by the sound of his voice. But he’s already gesturing for you to follow him elsewhere.

The next set of paintings you end up in front of are a series of sunflower studies. One frame depicts the long green stems; another provides an up-close view of their lined petals. One zooms in close on the flower’s brown center, only small glimpses of yellow left at the edges of the frame.

“This is definitely very different.” You look at him, a small smile pulling at your lips. “But it fits you. I see why you like it.” You remember him back in the park, taking careful pictures of the aster bush and of your hands…and then offering to take one of you. You don’t know why that last one makes your stomach jump.

“I thought you might like it.” Johnny’s eyes linger on your face as he observes your reaction to the paintings. He’s seen these flowers probably a hundred times by now in this permanent exhibit, but the wonder in your expression is new to him.

—

You both walk through a few more exhibitions after that, all with different subjects and mediums—some consist of sculptures, others are clay vases and figures. There’s still a lot to see in the museum, but you’re starting to get hungry, and you know Johnny has already heard your stomach growling.

After the 2nd time it happens and you think you might melt from embarrassment, he grins at you and makes a suggestion. “Let’s go to my office. I’ll get my things and we can eat. The restaurant here is pretty good—or at least that’s what everyone else says…”

When you get to his office, you feel almost like you’ve stepped into a room from years past. Your gaze drifts across his desk immediately; it’s not sleek and modern like you’d expect, considering the rest of the museum’s aesthetic, but wooden and heavy and vintage-looking. It’s olden quality resembles everything else in his personal space. Even his desk chair, a big and plush thing, feels vintage with its soft leather and rustic design.

This feeling is far from a bad thing, though. You enjoy the aged look of the bookcases, the picture frames, the chairs, the small decorations here and there—everything about this room.

Johnny notices how you look around, studying everything in sight, and smiles. “It’s not the most modern, but I like it.”

“It’s perfect. Like a world of its own.”

“A woman of taste, I see.” Johnny puts a hand over his heart, giving an expression like he’s truly touched, and you can only grin sheepishly. When he has his belongings, he leads you out and locks the door behind him.

“Let’s see what they have on the menu today, then.”

—

You get dinner at the museum’s restaurant, just as Johnny recommended, and he even decides to eat too. Maybe he does it so you won’t look odd being the only one eating, or because he really just wants to; he doesn’t let on. Either way, sitting across from him like this in a fancy restaurant with both of you having a nice meal feels almost like a date. You let that thought amble around for a few minutes longer before tucking it back into one of your mind’s many small niches.

“I’ll probably be digesting this for the next few weeks,” he says jokingly, pulling a mock-disappointed face at his plate.

“That sounds like the worst constipation in history.” He snorts at your comment, his eyes creasing as he laughs. You notice he has a dimple when he smiles, and your grin mirrors his. You don’t think you’ve seen him laugh quite so genuinely before, but now that you’ve experienced it, you want to hear it again and again.

Anything is preferable to the perpetual gloom, always slinking around the corner.

—

When Johnny gets back home after dropping you off at the university, he undresses himself and showers and pulls on his bedclothes, which are nothing more than his underwear and a pair of sweatpants. His upper canines ache in his gums the entire time he goes through these motions, like two pulses of red-hot heat positioned on either side of his mouth.

He takes a blood bag from the fridge and drinks it in bed, leaning his arms against his knees. A sudden remembrance manifests itself in his mind; he hears the hazy echo of his mother’s decades-past voice in his head, reprimanding him for eating in bed. A sharp pain grips his chest, and he tries to send it back to the depths where it belongs.

When the blood hits his stomach, the pain is eclipsed by the bloodlust, which is no better. His fangs drop immediately, spiking into his lower lip. Johnny closes his eyes and, very gingerly, allows himself to draw a picture of you in his mind, of your blood in his mouth and your heartbeat roaring in his ears. The way your blood would flow out so delicately, crashing into his tastebuds like the high tide. He is usually better than this at curtailing his bloodlust, not even letting it reach the point of his canines hurting—he can’t remember the last time that’s happened—but being around you sets him on edge. Awakens him in some strange, raw way.

That only makes him more wary. And more guilty about imagining himself drinking your blood. He shouldn’t even be around you if he’s losing his grip on his hard-won control. But although it makes him feel ashamed, it also causes his heart to rush.

He drains the blood bag to the last possible drop. To his relief, it calms him significantly, though the thoughts of you don’t leave. More innocent ones now, of your outing earlier in the evening. Deep beneath, they are tinged with his ever-present guilt at his vampiric nature.

Johnny doesn’t need the sleep, but he drifts off anyway, if only to quiet the conflict sending daggers into his mind.

You’ve known Johnny for a few weeks now, not counting the time you spent silently staring at him in the café, but you find yourself intertwining yourself further into his life. You end up visiting his apartment sooner than you anticipated. You didn’t think of anything as ridiculous as him living in a coffin or sleeping in the rafters like a bat, but you also had a hard time imagining what his place might look like.

You come over on a weekend when you have more time to simply hang out and not worry so much about anything else.

Like usual, he waits in that spot on the side of the street for you to come out. In the daytime, you’re more apprehensive about him being here and someone potentially seeing him and trying to cause trouble for him, but there’s a part of you that likes the rebellious aspect of it. And if he truly doesn’t mind coming near the campus to pick you up, you don’t have much issue with him doing it.

Johnny’s apartment is clean—and a little sparser than you’d expected. Maybe he’s a fan of minimalism. One side of the wall is taken up by a wide bookcase, which features a bunch of different knickknacks, books, and a collection of larger hardcovers that look like photo albums. On the other walls are a few framed pictures of different scenes, and you assume they’re ones he must’ve taken.

“This is a nice place,” you say as he takes your jacket for you and puts it up. “It must cost quite a bit, too…” You sit down on the couch, stroking the soft material of it.

Johnny shrugs. “Thanks. It’s nothing I can’t handle...being nearly a century old gives you plenty of time to save money.” He appears charmingly self-satisfied when he’s able to make you laugh. “Do you want anything?”

“Water is fine…thank you.” Johnny nods and goes off to the kitchen.

Despite trying to keep your eyes on the wall photos, your gaze follows him as he leaves. You discreetly watch him move around his kitchen. With his dark clothes, he’s like a splash of black paint against the pale tile and stainless steel.

There are blood packs in Johnny’s fridge. Lots of them. You know because you saw them from your vantage point on the couch when he opened the fridge door. They look like the blood bags you’d see in a hospital, which makes you wonder how he even gets access to those. Another mystery you struggle to wrap your head around.

He comes back to the living room with your water, and you take it gratefully, though you also feel a little awkward. You think maybe the blood bags are something you shouldn’t have seen, although you know he probably would’ve made more effort to hide them or put them away if that were the case.

“You have a good supply of blood, a nice apartment, and a great job. Does every vampire get these kinds of perks?” Admittedly, it sounded better in your head. Your attempt to stave off the awkward feeling—which was really only coming from your end—only makes it more intense. Johnny laughs dryly in response. You can’t tell if he actually finds it amusing or is just trying to humor you, which makes you feel incredibly silly.

“All of it’s government-issued if you promise never to bite any humans.” Johnny gives a wry smile. “But it’s a mistake to think vampires live glamorous lives, filling up on blood and having no cares in the world.”

“N-no, I get it,” you stutter. “Bad joke.”

“I’m not trying to embarrass you or be mean. It’s just the way things are.” Your roles are suddenly reversed, and now he seems to feel some sort of sympathy for you, like you’re just an ignorant little human who doesn’t know any better. The last part of that is more your insecurities speaking out than anything else, but you try to ignore that and take him for his word.

Johnny gets up from the couch to go over to the bookcase as you sip your water. After looking through the photo albums intently, he takes one off the shelf and hands it to you. You set your water down and hold the album carefully as you open the front cover. The cover itself has a neat little label that reads Telluride 1976 - 1980, so you can already expect what you’ll find in it. There are numerous photos of trees, bushes, snowy mountain ranges, lakes, brilliantly vibrant flowers, and woodland creatures. You stop at a picture of a deer looking straight ahead, its black eyes wide and curious as it examines the lens.

“I lived in the mountains back then, a little after my mentor had left. I spent some time trying to reconnect with nature...and all that other hippie shit people used to do back in that era.”

You chuckle. “Did you wear the same kinds of clothes, too? Bell bottoms and tie-dye T-shirts and all?”

Johnny laughs and shrugs. “Maybe…but that’s only for me to know.”

You grin and look at the photos again. “Well…did your plan work, at least?”

Johnny gives a wistful smile. “In some ways, I think it did.”

You continue looking through the rest of the album, which you could probably do for hours if you had the time—just sit and trace every possible line, curve, and ray of light. Johnny sits beside you as you do, occasionally explaining some pictures and their backstories.

“Lately, I’ve been wanting something else to take pictures of...someone else, maybe.”

“What, like a subject?” you ask.

“Yeah, it’d be nice...I haven’t taken pictures of another person in a while.”

You nod quietly as you flip through the pages—another possible hint flying right over your head. Then a thought comes to you—one that makes your skin warm. “Have you ever taken pictures of anyone you were...involved with?” You don’t say it directly, but you hope he can get the gist of what you’re asking.

Johnny nods as if he doesn’t want to admit to it, a nervous smile gracing his lips. “A few different people…but I always gave them the pictures after we, you know, stopped seeing each other...so there’s none left here.”

“I see…” For a few moments, your thoughts circle around that concept. What was it like to bare yourself in front of someone else like that, immortalized on film? What might it be like to allow Johnny to see you like that, to take pictures of you in your most vulnerable form? The idea doesn’t make you as downright anxious as you expected it to, though you can’t completely shake the lingering embarrassment about it.

After you finish looking through the entirety of his Telluride adventures, Johnny shows you some recent pictures he’s developed, and you’re giddy to see your own blurry creations among them. Now that you’re holding them physically in your hands, you can agree that they look nice, each with its own little personality.

“I thought about putting them in a new photo album,” he says, “but you can keep them, if you prefer.”

You hold them to your chest. “Yes, I’d like to keep them. Thank you.” You smile. “I’m sure I’ll leave you with plenty other photos to put in your album, anyway.”

—

The sun is close to setting again. You aren’t ready to leave yet, though, and Johnny is content to let you stay longer. He pulls out another album for you to look at, this one dated with 1960 - 1964. Unlike the others, there’s no title to describe what’s in it except for that year range.

“This is a picture of me someone took before I was turned,” Johnny murmurs, sitting back down beside you. He turns the album to you, and in the middle of the first page is a sepia-toned photo of him sitting on a bed—or maybe a couch?—wearing a suit. White, handwritten lettering on the bottom right of the photograph reads August 4, 1960.

“Oh wow...” You touch the photo gently over its protective lining. “You look exactly the same. Of course.”

“It’s the only photo I have left of myself,” he sighs, leaning back on the sofa. “If it weren’t for that...I’d feel almost like I didn’t exist at all.”

“Do you remember this day?” you ask.

“…Vaguely.” His answer doesn’t feel like the whole truth, and the way his eyes dart anxiously as he says it confirms your suspicions. Then he sighs again, heavier this time, and he seems to be exhaling all 60 years of his burden along with it. “I was...going to be married. It was for our wedding shoot.”

You’re surprised for a reason you’re unsure of, never even imagining that Johnny could’ve been married at one point in time. Could’ve had an entire life and a family, if it hadn’t been for...

“I’m sorry, Johnny.” You know you never would’ve met him if things hadn’t happened this way, and that knowledge tugs at your heart in a way that makes you feel intensely selfish.

Johnny shakes his head and avoids your eyes. “It was long ago.” He wets his lips and his jaw clenches like maybe he wants to say something else, but he remains silent for a while.

You continue exploring the photo album in silence. With its thin size, there aren’t as many pictures in it as the others—much less, in fact, but each one is still enough to keep your interest. Your mind keeps drifting back to the one of Johnny.

You hand the album back to him when you’re done. He takes it from you, but in a gesture you don’t foresee, he allows your hands to touch for the first time. You make a tiny flinch at the unexpected coolness—not ice-cold, but enough to be noticeable—but you don’t draw away from him. You let his fingers slide across yours as the photo album leaves your hands, and it sends electricity racing up and down your spine.

“S-sorry.” You’re not sure if you’re apologizing for flinching or for making contact at all, though there is no reason to because he initiated it.

“Doesn’t it ever disturb you at all that I’m not human?” Johnny asks softly, still holding the album.

“What?”

“You’ve taken all this so easily...much more easily than many others. You aren’t even disgusted at my cold hands.” A ghost of a grin comes over his face.

“If I were disgusted, I wouldn’t even be here,” you say, trying to lighten the tension. It’s not the kind of tension that arises from anger, offense, or upset, but something else that you are lost on comprehending in this moment. “Some of it’s unfamiliar, obviously, but I’m not disgusted.”

He glances down at the album in his hands, as if contemplating something. Maybe thinking about the only living photo of himself beneath the cover. Or maybe he’s thinking back to how he was turned in the first place and subsequently lost the life he was about to have. He still hasn’t told you anything about how he became a vampire, and though you’d like to know, it’s obviously a sore spot for him.

Eventually, he nods, willing himself to smile at you. “I’m glad.”

—

Night has fallen by the time you’re done exploring the decades of his life, though there is still much you haven’t seen and don’t yet know. You let him drive you back to the school as you stare out at the passing cars, wondering how many more of these people sitting in their vehicles are nonhuman and you’d never know it.

You hesitate after he pulls up across from the main gate.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Uh, nothing really, it’s just—I still don’t have your number or anything.” And I want to talk to you more often. I want to hear your voice more often. You don’t want to say anything overly dramatic or cheesy, so you just keep those last thoughts to yourself.

Thinking it had been something serious, he smirks at your concern. “Oh, I see. I’ll give it to you now, then.”

Once your numbers are safely in each other’s phones, you finally bid each other goodnight.

Though you try to steer your thoughts towards other things, you keep veering back to Johnny. His apartment. His fridge full of blood bags. His photo albums full of years of history. Even when you get into bed that night, you can’t keep him off your mind.

You wake up gasping and sweating when you dream of him with his fangs in your neck, your own blood running down your neck and chest. You glance over at your roommate to make sure you haven’t woken her and rest your head on your knees, trying to catch your breath and settle your racing heart. Your skin still prickles with how you could practically feel his heated breaths on your neck, ice-cold hands gripping your shoulders.

The worst part of it is that you can’t quite say you completely disliked it.

“It doesn’t make much sense to have a Halloween party and dress up as the very beings that you hate, but whatever…” you mumble, looking through a rack of costumes with a certain impassivity. You’re not very enthusiastic about going to this Halloween party, but your friend refuses to go alone. You haven’t been spending as much time with her anymore—partly because of Johnny and partly because you feel even more out of place around her than normal—and with all her begging and pleading, she refuses to let you opt out of this one.

“It’s about having fun, no one really cares Y/N. They’re freaks, aren’t they? That’s why people dress up as them, they’re practically meant for this.”

You become even more apprehensive about the party after hearing that, if that’s even possible. You smooth your hand over the fabric of a witch’s robe and sigh again, shaking your head. It doesn’t feel quite right to keep spending time in her presence—or anyone else who goes to your school—but you feel trapped on all sides, left without much of a choice. You would never hear the end of it if you tried to switch universities…or even drop out.

Your mind strays back to Johnny as always, with his melancholy aura and weird jokes and pretty pictures and monochrome clothes. The smell of his cologne, the lingering scent of roasted coffee beans, and his toothy smile, when he does show it to you. Something in you makes you want to drop everything you’re doing right now and go to him. It might even be nice to settle in his arms, feel them strong and solid around you—though he’d probably need just as much comforting as you.

“Dress up as this!” Your friend breaks the reverie as she prances over to you with a pair of fake fangs, the tips of them painted in acrylic blood. She holds them up to your mouth, and you struggle to manage a smile, if only to sate her enthusiasm. “It actually reminds me of…that vampire at the café. Say, have you seen him since then?”

You shake your head, moving away to sift through another rack of outfits as you try to maintain a detached expression. “Nope, not a glimpse. Haven’t even thought about him.”

When your friend doesn’t suspect anything, you let your expression drop just a tad, breathing out quietly.

The night of the party, the full moon is heavy and bold against the black blanket of the sky, which feels horribly cliché. You wonder if there are any werewolves out tonight, and what they might be doing right now.

“We’re going to have a good time tonight,” your friend insists as you both walk up the front steps of the host’s house. It’s someone you only vaguely know, a friend of a friend of a friend, but clearly a person who has an abundance of money judging by this expansive home. You don’t know why she feels the need to convince you, but maybe it’s because you haven’t seemed very enthusiastic so far. You only give a thumbs up to her words, which feels like an unconvincing gesture. Luckily for you, it works.

After a few hours, the party is still going strong but your head is starting to hurt from the music, and you’re growing weary of all the men crowding in too close, looking at you in your angel costume like you’re something to be devoured. You’ve rolled your eyes at way too many of them and their haphazardly put-together costumes, dressed up as vampires with terrible fake fangs or werewolves with manes of matted up fur.

Your friend keeps flitting around the party, talking to whoever she recognizes from classes or campus organizations, and you’ve given up on trying to follow her around any longer. Every time you turn around, she’s somewhere else. Noticing that you’re currently solo, a guy from one of your history classes comes up to you and begins what he thinks is an interesting conversation on how angels actually look more like Eldritch abominations than the cherubic humans depicted in paintings—so your costume is “technically inaccurate” —and your eyes glaze over as you pretend to listen to him.

You eventually manage to get away from him and get to an undisturbed corner, wedged next to two girls drinking cider and critically rating all the guys’ costumes. You pull your phone out and think about calling for a ride back to campus, but your thumb hovers over the message icon. You press it without thinking too much about it, and Johnny’s name appears as one of your most recent conversations. Though you feel somewhat nervous, you will yourself to open the box and begin typing.

To: Hi Johnny. I hope I’m not bothering you, but can I come over? 🙏🏿🙏🏿��🏿 I’m over this party

You put your phone back in your purse, trying not to get your hopes up for a quick response. You know there’s a good chance he’d still be awake at this time of night since he doesn’t need to sleep, but he has his own life and is probably off doing...vampire-y things. Whatever those things could be.

However, your hopes are met when your phone pings only a couple minutes later.

From: Of course. You’re not scared about spending your Halloween with a vampire? 😏

You smile at that.

To: I think I’ll be fine…as long as you don’t bite me.

From: 🦷🩸

—

You get to Johnny’s studio apartment not too long after, and you hang around outside his door for a few moments before knocking, suddenly feeling bashful about your costume. Maybe you should’ve changed before coming over here; what if he thinks it’s childish? Or maybe too revealing? Does he even care about that kind of stuff? Doesn’t matter now, though. You’re here, and there’s no way you’re turning back around.

He answers a few seconds after you knock, wearing a sweater and black pants. You notice his sweater is a cream color and not the usual black. He looks a little surprised to see your costume, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Wow, you look pretty. Nice of you to visit me after falling straight from Heaven.” You cringe at his cheesy line, though you also cannot deny that you secretly enjoy every bit of it.

“Thanks, Johnny...” you say timidly, stepping into his home as he lets you in. “Nice work with changing up the color scheme.”

He’s confused for a moment before realizing you’re talking about his clothes. “Oh yeah, that...um, haha. Thanks.”

Unbeknownst to you, the back of his mind is buzzing with a form of excitement he hasn’t felt in a while. Not the clawing, frantic spikes of bloodlust, but a more physical kind of desire. It’s pleasurable, but he also feels guilty about pining over how sweet and innocent you look in your all-white outfit, stockings hugging your legs perfectly and your dress just short enough to tempt the imagination. Really, you’ve painted a picture of perfect purity, and the only thing he can think about is ruining you. Putting his hands on you and peeling your dress off to reveal the soft skin underneath.

He casts those thoughts aside as you sit prettily on his couch, legs crossed at the ankles—though it’s hard to do so. “Do you want something to drink? Or eat? There isn’t a whole lot of food here, but I can order something…”

“Do you ever make your own coffee?” The question seems a bit random at first, and you try to explain. “You know, since you always get it from the café.”

Johnny smiles. “Do you want coffee? I can make it.”

You nod. “That would be nice…whatever you have.”

“I pretty much have your usual order memorized by now, so I should be good on making it.” Johnny walks to the kitchen. “You can look through the albums while you’re in there. The ones you haven’t seen yet.”

“Oh, thanks.” You feel a little nervous to be looking through the shelf of his treasured photo albums by yourself, but you’re also glad he trusts you enough to let you do it. It makes you feel important. Maybe even important to him, as silly as that might sound.

It isn’t long before the scent of coffee wafts out into the living room. Johnny returns soon with two cups of it, and just as he promised, yours is made just the way you like it.

“Thank you.” You set the album back on the shelf and take the cup from Johnny. For a while, both of you talk of nothing important—just filling the space with the details of your days.

“So how was the party?” Johnny finally asks, and he raises his eyebrows as he scans your outfit again. You grin halfheartedly.

“It was…alright. Kinda weird. I think it’d be more fun if I went to a regular university, but you know…”

Johnny shakes his head. “I can’t blame you for bailing out.”

“Yeah…I’ve been to college parties before, but the Halloween theme was a bit…”

“Strange for an institution that bans all supernatural beings?” Johnny finishes your sentence. He doesn’t look offended or irritated by it—only slightly amused.

You shrug, biting your lip. “Yeah, that.”

“Well, look on the bright side. I wouldn’t have gotten to see you in your natural form otherwise.”

This one almost goes over your head, too, but you catch it just in time. Johnny’s compliments make you feel warm all over, like you’re sitting under the sun. You grin and look down into your cup of coffee, unused to receiving such bold praise and unsure how to respond to it. Something pops into your mind, though, and you think it might be a good idea to run with it.

“You could...take a picture of me, you know. If you want to...since I’m all dressed up now anyway.” You meet his eyes only for a second and then look away, twisting the mug in your hands.

Johnny sits up a little straighter at your words, trying to catch your eyes, though you don’t hold his gaze for long. “You’re sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure. Go ahead! Before I change my mind.” You laugh nervously and carefully set your half-empty mug on the table.

Johnny’s camera is never too far away from him, so he grabs it and plays with the settings for a bit before looking back to you, a small smile on his face. “I’m gonna start, okay?” His voice is surprisingly soft. This, yet again, reminds you of him and the aster bush. He acts as if you might run away at the first shutter click, which makes you feel babied, but you don’t totally hate it.

The first few photos are a little awkward—at least to you. You aren’t sure how to pose, or if you should try to look more casual, though Johnny assures you you’re doing well. He gives you directives throughout, telling you to look in his direction or angle your face a certain way, and you follow his instructions to the best of your ability.

At one point, one of your dress straps slips down. When you go to fix it, Johnny says, “Wait. Could you keep it like that?”

You look at him, your body heating from the suggestion.

“Is that okay with you?”

“…Yes.” Your throat is dry, and your body reacts in a way you don’t expect—little nervous thrills in your hands and feet, though you try to internally explain it away as the coffee’s effects. Johnny takes a few more photos like this, and then he steps closer to gently touch your chin, guiding your face to the angle he’s looking for.

“So good for me.” It slips past his lips in a reverential murmur before he can really consider what he’s saying, and you both freeze. Your heart rate increases, and you wonder if he can hear how hard the red organ is beating in your chest. Probably.

You want to hear him say it again.

Johnny laughs awkwardly, his hand coming back to his side almost a little too quickly to be natural. “Um, I’m really sorry. That was a bit...”

“It…it’s fine.” You avoid his eyes. Johnny takes a few more photos, but the set of his mouth is a little tight, as if he’s stressed about something. Or regretting what he let slip, maybe. You want to tell him you really don’t feel bad about it, but you aren’t sure how to do that without making things more awkward…or revealing your true desires.

When Johnny has taken enough pictures of you to be satisfied with, he sits next to you on the couch, setting his camera on the coffee table and looking suddenly timid.

“I can’t wait to see them,” you say, attempting to break the tension that never really cleared the room after his earlier comment. He blinks for a moment like he doesn’t know what you mean, and then realizes—obviously, he’ll be developing the photos.

“They’ll come out nice, I’m sure. I think you’ll photograph well.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, and now it’s your turn to be unsure of how to resurrect the conversation.

“You’re beautiful.” It’s an abrupt comment. It makes your stomach twist in a pleasant, fluttery way, and you become hyperaware of his form sitting next to yours.

“Haven’t heard that one much, but thanks.”

Johnny turns to you. “Anyone who’d think otherwise is a fool.”

There’s a pause after this where you both simply study each other, watching for hidden reactions that can’t be read on the surface. The way he says it is…decisive, assured. But it also manages to be tender, as if he needs you to know what he thinks of you. Needs you to see yourself the way he does—the same way you do for him. You don’t know where the confidence comes from, but maybe his tone and his words and his endlessly dark eyes have pulled it out of you. “I want to kiss you.”

Johnny’s lips part. “Are you certain?”

“I’m certain.”

He doesn’t hesitate anymore. Johnny moves closer to you and cups the back of your neck. Something awakens in his eyes in the seconds before he presses his mouth to yours. Though he wants to drink eagerly from your lips, his kiss is languid to avoid overwhelming you, and there is an audible smack of your lips whenever he pulls away and presses back in.

His mouth tastes like the coffee you just drank, but underneath that you swear you can taste a hint of the deep iron of blood, and you don’t know how to feel about that. You think about what his fangs would feel like scraping against your bottom lip, if he’d ever show them to you, and you moan quietly.

“Do you want this? With me?” Johnny confirms once more, pulling his gaze away from your lips and up to your eyes. His own eyes are yearning, but there is also an element of something like fear roiling in them. As if you’d turn him away, even though you’ve already shown your desire for him.

“Yes. Just you. No one else.”

Johnny’s body gravitates towards yours, and you think he’s going to push you down onto the sofa, but he scoops your legs up and carries you to his bedroom instead. Even his hands on your waist and legs makes you burn inside.

This is the first time you've seen his bedroom. The sheets are cloud-soft when he sets you down on them, and his window lets moonlight shine through the open blinds and scatter in thick beams across the floor. The only other light source is the bedside lamp, which emits a comfortable yellowish glow.

Johnny joins you on the bed and lets you climb into his lap—encourages you to do so. His cool hands pulling at your thighs as you settle them on either side of his waist makes tingles go through your body. You don’t hesitate to bring your lips back together, kissing each other deeply as one of his hands cradles the back of your head and the other settles on the small of your back.

You are certain vampires don’t have any powers of enchantment—that’s for magic wielders. And yet, you feel like you’ve been put in a trance by his kisses alone, and you wonder how you could’ve lived this long without knowing how his lips feel—how they fit perfectly against your own. As if everything up to now has purposely led you together.

You shift in Johnny’s embrace, and the movement causes his thigh to slide between your legs. Your heat is pressed against his thigh directly now, your silken panties catching against the denim of his pants. You murmur against his lips, not really saying anything of substance but wanting to vocalize your desire to him. Johnny’s hand tightens slightly on your back, and he experimentally lifts his leg higher and slides his thigh across you. That draws a gasp from you.

Noticing your positive response, Johnny continues rocking his thigh up against your pussy and kissing you until you’re breathless and your nipples are straining against the fabric of your dress. You pull away from him for a moment to try to ground yourself, feeling like your nerves are already being singed with fiery pleasure. Johnny’s face is noticeably more flushed than before, but he also looks much more composed than you feel at the moment.

“It takes longer to get hard,” he explains, as if reading the lingering question in your own expression. “Since...you know. Slow blood.” You rock your hips over his thigh more enthusiastically, motivated to get him hard underneath you, and you listen to his choppy breaths as you move. Your movements aren’t the smoothest, but he helps you guide your hips in a way that feels good for you both. You’ve never been with anyone before, so it doesn’t much matter to you how long or quick it takes for him to get there as long as he does.

Feeling the bulge grow underneath you excites you. Johnny groans against your lips as you kiss him and rub yourself over his member. The sound comes from somewhere deep inside him, as if it’s something he’s been containing for a long time. Your hand goes to his waist and tugs at his belt loops, then drifts closer to his belt buckle, pulling the leather and metal apart. Johnny pauses when you get off his lap and slide further down, grips your arms like he doesn’t want you to go. “Are…you sure? You don’t have to…if it’s too much—”

“I want to, Johnny.”

With your affirmative, he lets you kneel between his legs, pull his zipper apart, and trace your curious fingers over the bulge beneath the fabric of his underwear. Johnny loses his breath when you drag his underwear down, sliding it over the heated skin of his dick. His length is thick and long—even with him not being fully hard yet—and the tip glistens wet with precum. You weren’t sure what to expect, but this is much bigger than you think you might be able to handle. It makes your face warm and your stomach do another series of flips. Still, you want it and you want him, so you aren’t going to stop now.

You lean closer to press your lips against his shaft, leaving a few soft kisses behind. Johnny’s mouth parts when your mouth touches him.

Johnny gently holds the back of your head as you leave small licks over his shaft, tasting the salty skin on your tongue. He lets out a shaky breath as he watches you, his other hand brushing the side of your face.

“Just like that…” he murmurs, his voice heavy with lust as you circle your tongue around the thick, darkened tip, catching drops of his precum. He never takes his eyes off you, and this makes you feel a little exposed, but you continue with your actions. When you suck Johnny’s tip past your lips, his thighs tense under you, the thick muscle reacting beautifully to your actions on his body.

More precum drips from him, and you find the taste strangely pleasing. It makes you want more of him, of whatever he has to offer you. You wrap your hand around his shaft, though it doesn’t fit entirely around, and begin stroking him in a way you hope feels good.

Johnny’s hand slips over yours to guide your movements and show you how much pressure to apply, what pace to stroke him at. “Like this, baby…yes, that’s so good…” He showers you with praise as you get the hang of it, and he eventually lets your hand go so you can do it on your own, his own hand drifting back to the bed to grip the comforter.

It’s hard to quantify just how much seeing you like this turns him on, you kneeling between his legs with his cock between your lips while wearing your pretty, angelic outfit. His previous guilt about “corrupting” you descends to the very back of his mind as he savors every moment of your hands on his cock and your tongue circling his slit.

“I’m close,” he whispers. You quicken your movements on him, hollowing your cheeks tighter around his dick, and the moan he gives shoots straight between your legs.

Johnny carefully pulls your head back so you won’t choke before he comes, streams of his seed shooting into your mouth and running down his cock. Your hand still squeezes around him as he comes, and he slowly thrusts into the tight circle of your fist as you milk every drop from him. By the time he’s spent, your mouth and hand and part of the sheets are completely sticky with his release. You imagine it must have been a long time since he’s last had an orgasm.

The vampire watches intently as you swallow his cum, which causes his softening dick to throb in your hand. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply, uncaring of the taste of himself in your mouth. His hair tickles your face as he kisses you feverishly, his nose bumping yours and his tongue prodding past your lips.

“Come here, angel.” Johnny pulls your body up onto the bed before you can get yourself up there first. The pet name makes warmth flood through your body, like drinking a hot chocolate at the café, except a thousand times more satisfying. Johnny’s hands are once again caressing your thighs, though this time they slide up underneath your dress and squeeze your hips. “Can I take these pretty panties off you?”

“Please.”

He hooks his fingers into the sides of them and pulls them down your legs and past your ankles. One of his hands goes underneath your dress to feel you soft and wet against his fingers, and you both moan at the same time. He slides his digits through your lips and over your clit, and him leaning forward to bring his mouth to your throat is enough to have you nearly overwhelmed. His fingers tease your entrance but don’t push inside until you nearly have to beg him.

“Please, Johnny…” You push your hips up to get his attention.

“Do you want my fingers?” he asks softly.

“Y-yes…” At your words, he eases the middle one into you, slowly enough to avoid discomfort. It feels strange to have someone else’s fingers inside you. His finger reaches further than yours can, touching you more deeply than you’ve felt before; it makes you gasp a bit too sharply.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, freezing and thinking he might’ve done something wrong.

“N-no, I’m fine. Keep going.”

Johnny’s mouth edges closer to the cleavage of your dress as he starts thrusting his finger into you, warming you up enough to take a second digit. Shakily, you bring your hands up to slide the straps down and make it easier for him, and his breath hitches when you pull the top of your dress down.

His mouth envelopes one of your nipples as he slides the second finger into you. His fingers encounter a part of you that makes you moan unexpectedly and grab onto him, a little surprised at the sudden spike of pleasure.

“You’re so pretty,” he purrs, his lips moving against the curve of your breast as he speaks. “And so responsive.”

As Johnny’s mouth and fingers work you closer to an orgasm, you marvel at how handsome he looks and how good he feels. He opens his eyes to see you staring at him, your pupils wide and mouth desperate, and he separates himself from your chest to kiss you deeply once again.

When you come around his fingers, Johnny whispers more compliments to you about how good you are and how he wants to watch you come undone because of him all the time. When he thinks you might be on the brink of overstimulation, he takes his fingers out of you, slipping them into his mouth to taste you.

“I’ll take this off now. Is that okay?” He whispers this into your ear with his hands on either side of your hips, caressing the fabric of your dress.

“I-it’s okay.”

Johnny slips your dress off, leaving you in nothing but your white sheer stockings. The sight of you sitting there on his bed, breathing heavily from your climax in your pretty thigh-highs, has his cock throbbing and rising to life once again.

“Lay back on the bed.” You do, and he settles himself between your legs like you did for him earlier. When you glance at him, his eyes are heavy and piercing. In this moment, you are acutely reminded of the fact that he is not a human, with how he looks like a beast of prey about to devour a meal. You are too nervous to look back at him for long, so you stare at the ceiling with your legs shaking from anticipation.

Johnny’s mouth on you is almost jarring in how wet it is, and you arch up into him in surprise and a rush of pleasure. He gently presses your legs back onto the bed and continues licking into you, parting your lower lips with his tongue and making your thighs tremble under his grasp.

If you had to describe it in words, you probably wouldn’t be able to. He kisses your pussy the same way he kisses you on the mouth, passionately and with more than enough tongue to satisfy. Johnny slips his fingers into you again as he curls his lips around your clit, and you moan unabashedly.

You’re quickly spiraling towards another orgasm, maybe quicker than you expected; but it makes sense with you still being so raw from the climax you just had. You gain enough courage to give another glance down at Johnny, and you see the way his other arm moves back and forth from beneath the bed, stroking himself while he eats you out. Something about that pushes you over the edge, and you cry out as you come on his tongue.

As Johnny gives you time to calm down again, he stands and finally pulls his clothes off, baring his body to you. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen a man so beautiful.

He goes to get a condom, and your words stumble from your lips before you can psych yourself out of saying them. “I-I’m on birth control.” Johnny looks back at you, his gaze filled with something you can’t quite read. He comes closer to you, holding himself above you on the bed so his face is hovering just above yours.

“You want to feel me raw?” he whispers.

You nod under his burning stare, feeling like you’re on a high you won’t be able to get off of. “I need you, Johnny.”

Johnny climbs fully onto the bed then and positions himself between your legs. His cock is thick and heavy between his thighs as it bumps against your inner thigh and leaves a smear of precum behind. After putting some lube in his hand, he slicks himself with the sticky substance, preparing himself to fuck you open. Something deep in your abdomen shudders, and your walls clench around nothing as you watch him stroke his shaft, the squelching, wet sound of his hand on his dick loud in the quiet room.

When he’s done, he grabs your thighs and pulls you a little closer to him. “If it hurts, tell me, okay?”

“O-okay.”

The slick tip prodding at your hole makes you want more, though you are a bit afraid of how this is going to feel. When it finally pushes inside of you, you gasp. Johnny watches your face for signs of pain as he slides forward further.

With two previous orgasms and the lube to help, his cock stretches you open with some discomfort, but not the kind of sharp pain you expected. Your nails leave little half-moon shapes on Johnny’s biceps as you squeeze his arms and try to keep your lower half relaxed, wanting to take all of him in—or as much as you can manage, anyway. You try to keep your breathing even as he pushes into you slowly.

Your eyebrows crease and your mouth tightens when he slides deeper still, and he pauses. “Johnny…” You worry your lip with your teeth, feeling like you’ve been stuffed to the brim—and he’s not even all the way in yet.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you beg, maintaining your grip on his arms. “Just…try moving.”

Johnny pulls out and slowly thrusts back in again, angling his dick to find that sensitive spot within you. Your mouth falls open silently when he does; this feels much, much different from his fingers. This is better.

Johnny repeats the movement, being mindful not to push himself too deep—only enough for you to handle. Beneath him, your body begins unwinding at the pleasure he’s delivering to you, and your eyes flutter closed as the ecstasy takes over your mind. One of his hands goes to tease your clit as he settles into a good rhythm, and you cry out at the extra dose of pleasure.

“You’re taking me so well,” Johnny mumbles as he sits back and watches himself slide into you, both of your lower halves slick from lube and your own wetness. “So warm and wet, angel…” You can tell he’s using a lot of his energy to keep his pace controlled and gentle enough for you to actually enjoy. The idea of being fucked harder makes you ache deep inside, but you figure it’s best to save that for when you’re more used to this. You already know it’ll be difficult to walk in the morning after this.

Johnny leans forward to kiss your lips, changing the angle again and circling his pelvis into you, and a choked gasp escapes your mouth at the slow wind of his hips.

Johnny lavishes your neck and throat with kisses, and though he is a vampire, you aren’t worried about him biting you. His fangs have not made an appearance since all this started, and you doubt if he would ever bring them out in front of you. You don’t know if you should ask about it, either, wondering if it’s too soon after only a month and a half of knowing each other—but maybe you could say the same about him being inside of you right now.

“Johnny…” you whisper into the air, your fingers scrabbling against his sweaty skin. The mounting tension in your abdomen is close to snapping, and you are almost frightened by how intense it already feels. He moves his face from your neck to be face-to-face with you again and plants a heavy, dizzying kiss on your lips.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs against your kiss-swollen lips. “I’ve got you, Y/N.”

Falling apart in Johnny’s arms feels like a form of Heaven that’s meant to be kept hidden, because you might become addicted to it otherwise. Your inner muscles squeeze around his dick as you come. His name flows from your lips in a high song. You can’t imagine any physical sensation that could be better than this, his hips rocking into you as you tighten and cream around him, and you know innately that Johnny has ruined all chances of you ever feeling this fulfilled with anyone but him.

The constant pulse of your walls against his dick is too much to withstand for long, and Johnny’s muscles pull taut with pleasure when he comes, groaning into your neck and spilling overflowing streams of thick cum into you. His hips falter in their former rhythm, and he resists the urge to push himself as deep as he can into you.

When he pulls out, you whine from the discomfort of it, but also because you wish he could stay in you forever. You know you’ll be sore when you wake up—and you can already feel the very beginnings of exhaustion and ache settling in your body—but you’d do it a hundred times over without changing a thing.

—

Johnny curls himself around you after he’s cleaned the both of you up, as if he means to shield you from the world. You’re quiet for a while as you listen to his slow-beating heart and feel his cool skin against yours.

You look up at his face, which is hard to see distinctly in the dark of the room. With the lamp turned out, the only source of light comes from the moon now, but you can decipher enough to make out the shape of his lips and his glittering eyes. You know he can see much better than you in this light, and he takes his time tracing his fingers across your face and cheek, studying your features.

“Would you ever…make me a vampire?”

His body tenses at your question. “Don’t say anything ridiculous. You still have a whole life ahead of you to live. What I have here...this is no existence.” He’s not mad, at least not at you, but his voice hardens at the very idea of it.

“But what if I wanted to live it with you?”

Johnny takes a breath, but he doesn’t say anything to that. He just continues stroking your face and looks at you for a long time, like he’s searching for something. You don’t know if you truly expected an answer from him, or how you would feel if he did give one.

Eventually, your eyes begin to fall low, and sleep overcomes you. The last thing you register is Johnny’s chilly hand touching your cheek. When he notices you’ve drifted off, he pulls the covers tighter around you both. Then he presses you to his chest as he tunes out the sound of cars rumbling on the streets below in exchange for the beating of your heart—still alive, so red with blood.

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unbreathable · 3 years

Text

ride home / S. Rogers

Summary : As a girl you were always told to never accept a ride from unknown men. You knew what could happen, you knew the dangers and heck, you`ve seen how it ruined some girls. But hey, he`s your teacher, nothing could happen. Right?

Pairing : Dark(soft)!teacher Steve Rogers x female Reader

Before you read, please understand that this is intended to be a dark fic. There will be noncon elements, rape, violence, manipulation and so much more. If you find any of these disturbing, please click away. 18+ only.

Warnings for this one shot : manipulation, noncon elements, rape, use of drugs, lost of virginity. This is some kind of au and Steve might be out of character a little.

Word count : 3.319

Credit : for the gif I used, the credit goes to its rightful creator.

Note : Don’t expect this to be any good. I came up with this over the course of a few hours and I’m still learning how to write one shots, as I find it much easier to write a series. Also I still suck at writing “smut”. I’m trying to perfect it, tho. Promise. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this one shot till my mind would be satisfied with the way the next chapter of “The Magpie” turned out and would let me post it. :)) Also, please excuse any mistakes I made. Have a great day you guys!

Also, to all the writers from this platform : thank you !

Girl found wondering around without any memory of the last few days, claims she had been abducted and raped...

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at the case which has been all over the news for the past week. It was quite predictable, really. Young girl, too drunk for her own good woke up by herself in the middle of nowhere. You sighed. In a city as big as New York, cases like this happened almost every other day, but there was always something left behind. Fight marks, blood, hair. Anything that could help the police find the person who did it. This time though, there was nothing.

The poor girl. You couldn`t help but pity her. She must be terrified. All alone against a world that knows nothing better than to judge. You pinched your nose in exasperation.

Cases like this, it`s what made you choose to study law. You wanted to be able to help other women. To offer them a chance at justice. No one deserved to be told that it was their own fault for wondering alone at night or for wearing something more showing. No girl should feel like the law protects only the male population...

“ And what`s your opinion on this matter, miss I`m too busy scrolling on my phone to pay attention to class?”

You cursed in your head, as you put your phone away and lifted your eyes to meet your teacher.

Steve Rogers. America`s hero, savior of the world and an actual pain in your ass, was looking at you expectantly. You held his gaze as you forced your lips to form some kind of smile. Something about him always put you on edge and the way his eyes darkened as he stared at you, didn`t exactly help ease the feeling.

“I`m sorry, I was distracted.” you murmured, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he caught you unprepared. ”If you would be so kind...”

You looked at him as you raised one eyebrow. It was always like this. No matter what you did he`d always find something to pick at you. At first you took it as a form of banter between a teacher and his students, but with time it became clearly that he had a problem with you. Your grades didn`t reflect the hard work you always put in. Your extra work wouldn`t be considered. Every time you would as much as look at your watch he`d find something to jab at you. He would also have something to say about every paper you handed him. It was a miracle you even made the grade for his class.

You cringed as you remembered the comments he would make about your life outside his class. You seemed to bump into him on a daily. There was also something, in the way he watched your every move, that it made the hair at the back of your neck stay high on alert. You really couldn`t understand what you`ve done that America`s sweetheart despised you that much.

”The women rights...” he smirked down at you.

“Oh, yes. I strongly believe that women should have got their rights the same time men did.” you smiled when you realized that he wanted to add something else. “I mean we know that every society of this world was built around androcentrism, but if we`re real the women were the ones that kept everything from falling apart.” you drew in a short breath. “Oh, and I believe that 1920 was a bit late for our women to get their rights, since women all around the world fought for it since the 18th century.”

You smirked, as for once in your life the bell rang exactly when you needed it. Forcing a smile his way, you stood up gathering your notebooks. You were quite proud of yourself, not because your answer was the desired one, but because you got on professor Rogers nerves. While he didn`t seem to have a problem with women and feminists in general, he sure had a problem with the way you choose to speak on the matter. From the corner of your eye you saw his jaw twitch.

At first you were afraid to even say your opinion lest you would upset him, but now you enjoyed to see that vein on his forehead nearly pop. You held back a giggle. Oh well, at least you won`t have to see him for the next few weeks.

“Professor!” you rolled your eyes when you herd your bestfriend use her sweet voice. “I was wondering if you`d like to come to our party tonight.”

You stood straight, narrowing your eyes at the one that has been your friend since the first day you came to the city. What the hell was happening. You knew she had a crush on him, everyone did, but she wasn`t the one to just go and ask someone out, especially not him. You watched her in confusion as professor Rogers made his way to the front of the class.

“You know, with everything happening right now, the uni council would let us hold the party only if there was someone that could take care of us.”

“Oh!” you supposed that made sense, but even so why did it have to be him.

“Of course professor Barnes already said that he`ll be there, but we`d be thankful if you came too. Please!” your friend bated her eyelashes at him as you rolled your eyes.

Professor Rogers had a pleased smile as he moved his eyes from her to you. You held his gaze, even going as far as raising one eyebrow at him. He blinked, before turning his head towards the rest of the class.

“Since you asked so nicely.” he said after a short moment dismissively. ”`I`ll be there.”

There was something sinister in his eyes. Something that you failed to see as you made your way out of the lecture class.

“I can`t believe you invited him!” you playfully jabbed your friend in the shoulder as she walked next to you.

“Oh, come on! It’s just tonight, and I bet he won’t be able to stay up that late since he’s like... the same age as history?” she bit back a laugh, as she took your hand. “It will be fun, you`ll see.”

You hoped she was right since you were never a big fan of parties of any kind.

_ _ _

This wasn`t fun. Not at all.

You knew you should have stayed home, yet you still wanted to enjoy the last night with your class mates before break. But this wasn`t it. The music was too loud and you couldn`t even hear what some people were saying. Also you`ve never really been a techno fan. The food was crap and you were sure everyone came just because there were free drinks.

It was well past midnight and you have been there since the beginning, but you were already dreading it. You smiled as your only joy came from watching drunk freshmen being rejected by some of your friends. The girls were ruthless and that made you proud.

“Hey girl!” your bestfriend came by your side, holding two glasses in her hands as her body danced along the rhythm of the music. “Look at was professor Rogers sent us.”

Her words were slurred and you could see that she drank already too much. That`s why at first you thought you didn`t hear her right. While it wasn`t unusual for men to send women drinks, getting a drink from your teacher was something you never thought could happen. It was wrong in a way.

“What?” your eyes widened as soon as the word left your mouth.

You eyed the glass she handed you. It seemed to be one of your favorites, and after the sour taste the beer left in your mouth, that would have been like a desert. Still something made you suspicious.

“Come on, take it!” your friend pressed as she smiled broadly. “He must have realized that he’s been an ass all year and wants to make amends.”

She was giggling as her glossy eyes drifted around the room. She didn`t seem to be able to focus on anything, but somehow her shaky hands found yours and brought the glass you were holding closer to your mouth. You weren`t exactly sure what came over you, but you opened your mouth and let the liquid go down your throat. Involuntarily, your eyes wondered around till you saw the back of your least favorite teacher. He didn`t even seem to care about anything around him as he was engaged into a discussion with professor Barnes. That alone made you feel safe, even though the drink left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You were too quick to judge, you resonated. This was probably his way of saying: “Sorry I tormented you that much.” You suddenly giggled. It was shortly followed by your friend`s laughter. She threw the glass to the side and took your hand leading you to the dancefloor.

You weren`t that much of a dancer. You knew just some basics moves and that was it, but now you didn`t seem to care. You let your body move, and only chuckled when your legs started to feel like jelly. It was a strange feeling. You suddenly felt like were floating.

You furrowed your brows as you started to feel that your body didn`t exactly respond to your impulses. Everything around you happened in slow motion.

You cursed. Just how much did you drink? Moving one hand to your head, you tried to get your senses back, but you found it too hard to do. Your head buzzed. For a second you looked around trying to spot your friend among the sweaty bodies on the dancefloor, but it was like you couldn`t recognize anybody.

Fuck this. You had enough of this party already, and the way you felt made you decide that it was time to go home. You moved between the sea of bodies as fast as you could. Your coat and purse were the only thing you spent more than five minutes looking for, but as you found them you practically run out of there.

The bus stop wasn`t that far, but just the thought that you`ll have to go home by bus, made you want to throw up. You didn`t feel well and there was dizziness that started to overcome you. As you watched the empty street, you cursed again. Of course you`ll have to wait till the next bus came. Damn it! You should really get your license.

The sound of a engine from behind you, made you turn your head. Your eyes narrowed as you watched the Range Rover slow down and actually stop right next to you. You squinted your eyes, trying to see through the tinted glass, but as a wave of nausea hit you, you moved your head to the side. You didn`t exactly pay attention when one of the windows went down. You didn`t really care. You felt sick, and all you wanted, was to get home.

“ I saw you left the party early.” the deep voice said. “Are you all right kitten?”

You hissed when you heard the voice of the last person you wanted to see right now. What was he even doing here? Your heart skipped a beat as another wave hit. You took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. Just ignore him and he`ll go away. You didn`t exactly knew why you choose to act like that but there was something in your head that told you it was for the best.

“Come on girl, I have to make sure everyone is safe and sound.” you heard his voice. “If you don`t feel fine, I can take you home.”

The idea of getting home sooner and in a nice car was looking really good right now. But still, you didn`t feel like it was the best for you. You choose to keep quiet for reasons not even you knew. You glossy eyes scanned the schedule of the bus that was right in front of you. Thirty minutes and you`ll go home.

You heard professor Rogers sigh.

“And here I thought you never shut your mouth.” there was a deep chuckle, fallowed by the sound of the engine coming to life. “Look kitten I can either get you home or I`ll go my merry way and let you here all alone... well not quite. But I`m not sure you`d want that kind of company.”

Confusion filled your mind. The sudden move you made to look at him, made you dizzy. You tried to focus your eyes, in time to see him pointing to somewhere behind you. You slowly turned.

A group of guys were eyeing you like a wolf would his prey. Your mouth fell open as they did obscene gestures at you. Your whole body freeze as fear took over you. You knew what could happen. Suddenly you were more sober that ever and as you heard the car start moving, you nearly threw yourself in front of it. On shaky legs you moved towards the door.

“Wait” you find it hard to speak. “Professor, I`m sorry I... please!”

You looked at him with pleading eyes, and didn`t even register the way he smirked as you got into the car. Everything was a haze. You only felt like you could breath when the car started to gain speed. You didn`t even remembered to give him your address or anything, but as the car rolled down various streets you were only thankful you were far away from them.

“It such a crazy world out there” professor Rogers voice made you move your head towards him, but as the fear was gone, you started to feel the dizziness again.

With unfocused eyes you watched him. America`s hero was giving you a ride home for free and you were acting like he was your biggest enemy. What was wrong with you?

“I have to say I`m impressed.” he suddenly said as the car started to slow down. “That was one of the strongest drugs that you drank, and you still have some of your conscious left. The other ones were down after a few minutes.”

You looked at him and simply blinked. You wondered if your mind was playing games with you. Surely, he hadn`t said what you think you heard. You must have imagined everything.

“E... excuse me?” you asked dully.

You drew in a shaky breath as your trembling hand went to the door. He chuckled darkly at your attempts to open it. You wanted to scream but as your movement became slower and slower you found that fear wasn`t enough to fuel your limp body.

The car came to a sudden stop. You closed your eyes as you felt hands pulling you back.

“Now, now honey.” you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. “Don`t waste your energy, you`ll need it.”

You turned your head and watched him through your eyelashes. Something in your head was screaming at you to fight, to run, to get away. You wanted to punch, scratch, hurt him in any way. But your body didn`t listen.

It happened too fast. In a matter of second your dress was ripped to shreds. And your found yourself pressed to the door. He was over you in an instant. Turning your head to the side so that he could stare into your eyes. He had a hungry look on his face. You`ve seen it many times but it never terrified you as much as now.

“Just as pretty as I imagined.” he said in a husky voice.

You squeezed your legs as you felt his hand moving around along your body. He tugged at your bra till the clasps snapped. Your nipples stood erect, you didn`t know if it was from the cold of the car or the heat that was inside you. One of his hands came forward at pinched at your nipples. You made to move, but as sensing your intention he tugged your head back by your hair.

“Don`t you even dare!” he growled as his thumb played with one of your nipples. “I waited a long time for this”.

He leaned forward kissing down your stretched neck. His mouth was hot against your skin. You gasped when you felt his tongue leaving wet traces along your collarbone. He tugged at your hair one more time before his hand went down.

“Always dressing like this world is your own runaway, always thinking that you know it all.” he let out a moan as he squeezed your ass. “Do you know what a face as pretty as yours and an attitude like that do to a man?”

You whimpered. You never meant to catch his attention in that way, you just wanted to feel good about yourself. You wanted to tell him that. To tell him that you were sorry, but your brain didn`t work anymore. There was no reaction even as he spanked you. You felt like you could pass out every second.

“Don`t even think about it!”

You closed your eyes when your panties were soon the same as your other clothes. Slick was going down your legs. Despite everything, you were aroused.

“So fucking wet already. Good girl!” he praised.

You felt his hand descend down to your very core, proding around. You bit your lips as tears filled your eyes.

“How many have been here before?” he gave a low chuckle the same time his fingers pinched your button.

“One?” he mocked as one of his long fingers entered you.

You held back a gasp. Non, no, no. This wasn`t happening. Nobody touched you like that before. Nobody even came close to it. That`s not how you wanted it not how you dreamt it would happen. You wanted dinner, roses, a man you loved... not him.

“Two?” he continued as another finger stretched you.

You felt your walls clench around his fingers, as he moved them in and out ou you, everything while his thumb circled your most sensitive part.

“Fuck... you`re tight!” his breath was ragged, it was like he couldn`t get enough.

There was a sudden pause. In a quick move you found yourself pressed to the door of the car, as he angled your body to have better access to your burning core. He drew in a breath.

“A virgin.” he moaned.

You closed your eyes as you herd him playing at his clothes. The sudden hardness you felt proding around your core, made you shiver. You didn`t dare to look back and see it. You were scared. It seemed too big. You were afraid it would split you in a half.

You screamed when he entered you. The pain blurred your vision. Your whole body ached and tears fell down your cheeks. No, no, no. You bit back a moan of pain when he started to move, not caring about you at all. His moves were rough, punishing.

“Shhh doll, I`ll take care of you.” he rasped. “You must have waited so long for this... saving yourself for me.”

Your body moved in rhythm with his. His cock dragged along your walls as every move sent a wave of pain through you. Soon though, you found the pain disappeared. A strange feeling took over you. It was almost pleasurable. You guessed you would have enjoyed it under any other circumstances. But now? Now you were just tired.

As you passed out, you failed to notice the feeling of something warm flowing through you.

_ _ _

Steve smiled down at your sleeping form. So pretty, even after being used like that. You had a glow. Too bad you might not remember anything that happened. He chuckled. It`s a good thing he planned to keep you. He`ll make sure you`ll never forget him.

You were his girl after all. The only reason he took that shitty job as a teacher.

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bi-bi-buckleydiaz · 3 years

Text

i think not | owen joyner

requested?; - yes! Owen Joyner x reader - their characters might not be love interests on the show (readers is possibly a new one for Luke/which causes a rift in Juke) but they are in real life and are trying to keep it on the down low especially during cast interviews and with fans.

word count; 2K

warnings; language, yelling but only like two sentences

a/n; I didn’t know how to end it so the ending kinda sucks sorry. also side note, the character the reader plays on jatp is a character I’m planning on writing an x reggie fic with so be on the lookout for that !

that close up tho

You didn’t mean for it to happen.

Not the, relationship, of course. You wanted that to happen. You’ve been wanting that to happen since you were an extra dancer on the first season of Julie and the Phantoms and danced right into Owen on accident during The Other Side of Hollywood. He was sweet about it, of course he was, asking if you were okay when he was the one that got barrelled into. The apology coffee date turned into a movie night at his apartment which then turned into weekly Friday night takeout dates which ultimately turned into Owen blurting out one night that he liked you and wanted to be your boyfriend.

You obviously said yes.

Which brings you to now, two years later filming season two of JatP, except this time you weren’t a dancer, but a recurring character - Delilah Alarie, a 17 year old girl who can hear ghosts, but can’t see them, and forms an unlikely relationship with everyone’s favorite bassist in a ghost band. This is where the problem comes in.

When you and Owen started dating back in 2019, you two decided to keep it on the DL because you both weren’t totally sure where it was going to go. At the time you were both so busy: Owen having his first acting job as an adult so he was getting used to the long hours, and you working what felt like 25/8 to get all the dance routines down pat. So you both just...didn’t tell anyone. That’s not to say people weren’t suspicious. Charlie was present at many movie nights and Tori liked to tease you about you how you’d spend your time between takes staring at the blond drummer and his fidgeting fingers.

Filming wrapped and you planned to announce your relationship at the wrap party, but a certain 19 year old thought it would be smart to get a little wasted and passed out before you could say “hey, we’re dating.” Then, you all went your separate ways and you and Owen didn’t see the need to inform everyone of the relationship, especially because you had to figure out the whole long-distance thing.

Then Covid hit. And there really wasn’t a need because you both were fighting so hard to not get insecure and worried about the hundreds of miles between you two. But you got through it. Between many facetime calls, a spontaneous trip to Hawaii, and one memorable meet up at a halfway point between your two states, you were finally back in each other's arms after the last three months apart. Of course, it was on set, where everyone thinks you’re just friends.

So yeah, there’s a problem. Because you didn’t mean for the secret dating to go on for so long. Life just, happened, and now you two are constantly sneaking around your fellow castmates and trading secret kisses in each other’s trailers and having little rendezvous meetings in the apartment building’s pool after your roommates have fallen asleep. You’re sure Savannah and Tori have heard you sneaking out a few times, but they wisely say nothing. Charlie sleeps like the dead so your certain Owen is in the clear.

It’s not like you two want to keep it a secret. Of course you want to tell your friends, it's just, since it’s gone on for so long you’re scared of what could happen. If they’ll get mad about the sneaking around and the lying.

But alas, you knew the day when the secret would slip out would come. And today just happened to be that day.

Your friends were already starting to get suspicious, you and Owen were starting to lose your subtlety with the sneaking around, and some fans don’t understand the term BOUNDARIES and caught you two outside the apartment building one day. You weren’t doing anything relationship-y, you two were just coming back from a short day on set because you both ended at the same time and were looking forward to some much needed alone time. But you both knew better than to hold hands or kiss in public, which you were glad for that rule when a few girls bombarded Owen when you both walked out of the parking garage to head inside. The girls posted about the interaction online and of course, assumptions were made about why you two were together. The cast brought it up, but you both shut it down. You really thought the secret would be exposed because someone would catch you two together...Owen is not good at keeping his hands to himself despite his own PDA rule.

But no, the secret came to a head because Owen is a big fat st0upid head and got jealous over his best friend.

It started as a normal day. You got up at the last possible minute, Savannah and Tori already eating breakfast in the kitchen, knowing better than to wake you up before your alarm. You ate, showered, changed into comfy clothes for the ride to work. Madi joined you and the other girls that day, now being a little older her dad trusted her to be alone with the older cast members and alone on set for a little while. You jammed out to Doja Cat and HSM because “range, Y/N, range.” Then you arrived on set to Kenny calling you and Madi over for an impromptu meeting before any of you could reach hair and makeup.

“Alright, now that the rest of you guys are here, I have an announcement to make.” You looked around to see that it was just the main four and you, and that’s when trepidation hit. The only scene you knew of today that involved you five was when the boys finally became visible to you, and you and Reggie share a moment. It’s a hug, much like the one Julie and Luke shared in the season one finale. But Kenny had come up to you a few days ago, suggesting adding a little something something. He told you he wasn’t sure yet, had to run it by a few execs, but that Jeremy was okay with it and he wanted to make sure you’d be okay with it too. You had said yes, after all Jeremy was the one married so you were really only worried about how he and Carolynn would feel about the kiss, you didn’t even think about Owen.

That was a mistake.

“So, I ran it by a few execs and of course, our own Delilah and Reggie, and have decided that after their big hug moment, a little kiss would really make the scene and ma -”

“Uh I think not.” It was muttered, but everyone heard it. And everyone froze, Kenny stopping mid sentence to look at the culprit. Owen was looking at his hands, completely oblivious to everyone staring at him. He didn’t even realize he’d said it aloud until Jeremy cut the tension with a little forced chuckle.

“C’mon Owen there’s enough of me to go around.” Everyone chuckled a bit, but Owen froze in his fidgeting, his face going firetruck red and eyes darting over to you.

“Shit. Fuck I said that aloud didn’t I?” He groaned, putting his face in his hands and, before you could stop yourself, you walked up to him.

“Hey. Hey c’mon.” You gently wrapped your hands around his wrists and pulled his hands away from his face. “It’s okay.” You expected him to look stressed. Based on his tone of voice you were preparing for a minor panic attack. But when you saw his face, all you saw was anger. It shocked you, causing you to stumble back a bit.

“You knew about this?” And okay, yeah, you also expected a bit of that. But not to this caliber.

“Owen I -”

“No. No you knew and didn’t tell me? Didn’t think to mention that you’d be kissing one of my best friends? What the hell Y/N?” You flinched, not used to Owen being this angry and loud.

“Owen, buddy, hey. Let’s just -” Charlie started, trying to diffuse the situation having noticed you flinching.

“No! This isn’t a ‘calm down’ thing. This is a “my girlfriend lied to me” thing and I’m very upset about it!” And whoop...there it is.

“Owen...”

“God just, really Y/N?” Then he walks away, leaving you surrounded by your confused friends. It’s silent for a few seconds, everyone taking in what just happened.

“Um...I know this probably a really bad time to bring this up but uh...y’all owe me twenty bucks each,” Charlie said. Then everyone started talking at one. Kenny apologizing for not knowing, Madi berating Charlie for the bad timing, Charlie firing back that Owen is just being dramatic, and Jeremy consoling you with Kenny. His hand on your back jump starts you into action. You quickly excuse yourself to make your way to Owen’s trailer, knowing that’s probably where he stormed off too.

You don’t knock when you get there, just walk in, making sure to lock it behind you. Owen is there on the couch, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

“Owen Joyner what the hell was that?” That’s not what you had wanted to say. You were going to be nice and ease into it. But he yelled first and now you're anxious and stressed and upset. He sighs heavily and looks up at you, eyes red and glassy with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry. I - Y/N I didn’t mean to freak. I realized halfway here that was not the way to go. I’m so -” You cut him off by pushing him back and crawling into his lap.

“It’s okay. It’s okay I should’ve - I shouldn’t’ve just yelled and I definitely should have told you when Kenny proposed the idea I just got so caught up in the fact it’d be my first on screen kiss and it’d be with a married man who’s in quite possibly the cutest relationship ever and I was worried about -”

“You’re rambling babe,” Owen says with a smile. It’s a soft thing, one that makes your insides all mushy and your heart starts beating a little faster. “It’s okay. I mean, I would’ve liked to have found out earlier and not in front of our friends - oh my God! I just completely exposed us didn’t I? Oh God!” He whimpers out a whine and leans his head forward onto your shoulder. You giggle at the blonde beneath you, running your hands through his hair as he pinches your sides for the laugh.

“Babe, I’m pretty sure they already knew.” Owen whips his head up at that, eyebrows furrowed.

“Charlie mentioned everyone owes him twenty so, i’m pretty sure they were betting on when we’d tell them.” Owen groans and grumbles at that, throwing his head back in a dramatic way to convey his fake frustration. He brings his head back center and smiles softly again at you.

“I will make sure to steal it from him tonight. That’s our money babe.” You giggle into the kiss he places onto your lips. You two sit there for a few more minutes, exchanging kisses and trading affirmations of love. After a final kiss, one that’s full of passion and heat, you decide to head back to set.

You walk into the stage with the studio hand-in-hand, smiles on your faces. Madi squeals when she sees you both, running over to hug you.

“Yay yay! I knew you’d work it out and now I have another couple to fangirl over. Yay!” You hug the small girl back before she bounces over to give Owen the same treatment.

“Congrats bro,” Charlie says with a smile, clapping a hand on Owen’s back and ruffling your hair up. Jeremy smiles at you two, hugging you both as well.

“Congrats you two, now can we get back to the meeting? You two dating is old news. Like, 2019 old. But congrats on finally announcing it!” You look at Kenny in shock for a second, before bursting out into laughter, everyone around you following suit. Owen squeezes your hand three times and you look back over at him. You both shoot each other a small smile.

It’s gonna be okay.

#owen joyner #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner imagine #owen joyner x reader #owen joyner fanfiction #owen joyner x y/n #owen patrick joyner imagine #owen patrick joyner x reader #owen patrick joyner x y/n #owen patrick joyner fanfiction #jatp #jatp fanfic #jatp fanfiction #jatp imagine #jatp x reader

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

Text

Watching the Bay

A/n: lowkey a baywatch au........really just wanted to write 3RACHA as Baywatch.......guys there is so much jisung on my m.list........oh well I'm whipped. enjoy lots of shirtless jisung. (not thoroughly edited. I will come back and edit it) ALSO THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 2K FOLLOWERS WTFFF!!!!!

Tag List: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoe @poeticallyspaghetti @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @yangomangos @jisungsjheekies @straycozy @hoes4hoseok @jeonqqin @geminirules @crscendoforsung @mrsunshine999 @multi-net (Tag List is Open!) (Some are specifically for this fic tho lol)

Warnings: cussing, shirtless 3RACHA, 18+ themes/suggestive, drugs, violence

Word Count: 14.1K

Summary: Based on the hit Tv show and movie Baywatch. Y/n and her friends Jeongin and Hyunjin have been coming to Cheonsa Beach every summer since they met. This summer the steamy lifeguard Y/n has had a crush on convinces them to join the watch. As the new guards of the Baywatch join the force their lives are skyrocketed into a world of chaos, crime, sex, and lots of good ol’ beach vibes.

Genre: romance, minor crack, comedy, lil bit of angst, Baywatch!au, lifeguard!au, college!au?

❖

Three years. Every summer I would come back to this same beach and spend the long hot days on the sand with my two best friends. This summer would be no different. Hyunjin, Jeongin, and I were about to be college sophomores and we were on top of the world. Well, two of us were anyway.

“Yoo-hoo. Head out of the clouds, Y/n.” Hyunjin said, waving his hand in front of my face. Shaking my head I brought myself out of the dreamy summer trance I was in. Hyunjin took the basket from hands and set down all our beach stuff.

“Sorry, just dazed off for a second.”

“Well, Ms. Space Cadet, you wanna help us set up, or are you just gonna stand there?” Hyunjin elbowed me, with a smirk. Scoffing, I picked up the beach chair and unfolded it before laying out the towels on the sand.

“Uhhh...guys! A little help here!”

Turning around we saw Jeongin struggling to carry a huge pile of stuff from my beat-up old blue jeep. Scurrying over, I lightened my other best friend’s load. “Come on, guys! We have tanning to do!” Hyunjin called already stripping himself of his shirt.

“More like burns to be received,” Jeongin said to me with a smile. Laughing the two of us joined Hyunjin after finishing out beach set up. Soft tunes played from the speaker Hyunjin brought as the three of us lounged on beach towels in the sun. Jeongin lay on his back, white sunglasses shielding him from the sun. Hyunjin and I lay on our stomachs, feeling the rays on our backs.

“Guard alert,” Hyunjin said, causing all three of our heads to pop up. “Damn...” He whispered under his breath. Like he said, coming our direction down the waterline were three of Cheonsa Beach’s finest lifeguards. And quite frankly...all three were hotter than the sun itself.

I pushed my shades down my nose and watched as the three boys- no...three men ran down the beach. Hyunjin did the same.

First on the closest side, Seo Changbin. The shortest of the group, but he was not lacking in form. The boy was built like He-Man on steroids, with a smile that could melt any strong resolved woman- or man. There were rumors he played for both teams.

Falling center was Bang Chan, the oldest of the trio. His light blonde hair bounced with each step. He was not only the kindest man you would ever meet, but he could send the most innocent girl begging for him to show him his dark side. He was the perfect piece of eye candy for any girl to dream about on the beach.

The third ran on the farthest side, water splashing under his feet sending droplets onto his tan and muscular stomach. The ocean drops slid over the scripted tattoo on his right ribcage and splashed against the black dragon like ink across his opposite thigh. Han Jisung, my personal summer daydream. He was almost perfect. His only flaw was that he tended to get cocky at the worst times. It didn’t stop him from physically driving me crazy, his shaggy brown hair blowing in the wind.

My eyes trailed over every line on his body, studying it like a work of art. The red life guard’s swim trunks hung low on his hips, making my mouth water.

The three of them seemed to move as if time stopped. “How do they do that?” I said, still ogling Jisung. “It’s like they move in slow motion,” I said licking my lips.

“Oh, you see it too?” Hyunjin said watching Changbin with the same look in his eyes as mine.

Jeongin sat up and took off his sunglasses. His eyes went from Hyunjin to where Hyunjin’s stare was locked on; Changbin’s ass. “Dude...you have a girlfriend....” Hyunjin shrugged and continued to watch his part of the trio as I did mine.

The whistle around Jisung’s neck swung in rhythm with his steps, bouncing against his chest. He turned our way and I could have sworn he smiled at me, his bright teeth reflecting the sun's rays. Before I could smile back, he disappeared from sight.

“Did Jisung just-” I said hearing a splash. Jeongin laughed, seeing Jisung fall face first into the water. The other two kept running leaving Jisung behind.

“There’s no way he can recover from that!” Jeongin said rolling around in a fit of laughter.

“Um...think again Innie,” I whispered, watching the scene before me.

Again, it seemed as if he moved in slow motion. Jisung emerged from the water shaking out his wet strands of hair. I took off my glasses fully, the tip of the frames catching between my teeth. I watched the droplets of water catch on the grooves of his stomach sliding over the tattoo on his side. His hand raked through his hair pushing it back away from his face. The water threatened to tug his trunks down even further, making a small line of slightly paler skin show on his hips. He truly was an Adonis. An Adonis that was coming...right...this...way...

Fuck.

Jeongin jabbed my stomach breaking my trance. “Your boyfriend is coming over.”

“Thank you, Innie I can see that,” I said through gritted teeth. I put on a smile seeing Jisung only a few feet away. He smirked, eyes raking over my body.

“Welcome back, L/n,” Jisung said, pushing his fingers through his wet brown hair. His eyebrow quirked up, noticing the trail of my eyes, up his torso to his face. “You back for another summer?”

“What’s it to you, Han?” I asked looking up at him. He shrugged, a droplet of water falling from his jaw onto the sand.

“Figured you might have the balls to try out for the watch this year.” I laughed, pushing myself off the towel. Han smirked, now getting a full view of me in my new swimsuit, which I had specifically bought with him in mind. Not that I would ever tell him that. “There’s uh...two spots-...sorry...three spots open this summer,” I smirked knowing exactly the two spots which tripped him up, his eyes still lingering on my chest.

“I don’t know. Hyunjin, Innie? Does that sound fun? I mean, it would take away our time from enjoying the gorgeous beach scenery.” I said motioning to the waves that were rolling in. But, that wasn’t what I was referring to.

“I’m always down for extra cash,” Hyunjin said, bringing his attention to the conversation and away from Changbin who was now just a hot muscular spec in the distance.

“I’m sure Aiya, would love a gift every now and again from her boyfriend,” Jeongin said with a smirk.

“Aiya....OH! Yeah! She would.”

Jisung was not paying attention to the exchange. Instead, he and I were having a slightly heated staring contest. “So, Jisung,” Hyunjin started, pushing himself into a seated position, long blonde hair, falling into his eyes. “When are tryouts?”

His eyes widened hearing his name and he turned to my friend. “Sorry- what?” Jeongin rolled his eyes and put his sunglasses back on before reaching into our cooler and pulling out a soda. “Uh..tryouts? Tomorrow at noon. The rest of the guys and I will be running them.”

“Well maybe you’ll see us there and maybe you won’t.”

“Here’s hoping,” Jisung said, with a smirk. He shot me a sultry wink before turning on his heel and running off down the beach. Jeongin scoffed watching me shamelessly check out the muscles in his back.

“So, you guys busy tomorrow?” I asked with a smirk.

❖

My fingers pulled on the straps of the bathing suit top I had chosen to wear. My only one piece I had brought with me. I would not have my tits bouncing all over the place running the stupid obstacle course the boys had set up. It felt weird wearing shorts on the beach for so long. Usually, by this time I would be in the water.

A whistle blew, calling my attention as well as the attention of the two nitwits beside me to the start of the course. Jisung stood, whistle in his mouth, hands on his hips. The signature red trunks hanging dangerously low in the best way. Chan and Changbin stood next time waiting to address the crowd of about twenty participants.

Changbin stood on top of one of the obstacles, red swim trunks highlighting his tan skin in the sunlight. I turned to find Hyunjin staring lustfully at Changbin’s washboard abs. My elbow jabbed into his stomach earning an annoyed look from my best friend. “What?”

“Aiya?”

“Aiya.....OH! She’s fine. Ai won’t care.”

Another shrill sound came from Jisung’s whistle and he let the metal instrument drop from his lips and let it fall against his bare chest. “Alright!” Chan said into a megaphone, addressing the crowd. “We set up a course this morning to test your abilities. Complete the course in under four minutes if you can, which is the standing record set by our current top guard, Jisung, and you move onto new recruit training.”

Changbin motioned for the speaker. My eyes fell back onto Jisung who seemed to have spotted me in the crowd. He crossed his arms, obviously flexing his muscles and shooting a wink my way. Convinced not to give him any sort of satisfaction, I turned back to Changbin. Jisung was obviously frustrated at my lack of reaction.

“We only have three spots so give it your all! You’ll go do the course in groups of three so get in groups. Try to find some people you don’t know.”

Hyunjin and Jeongin both groaned at the last part of Changbin’s statement. “But what if I don’t like people?” Hyunjin whined. Jeongin let his head hang down, chin touching his tank top clad chest.

“Hyunjin, I don’t like people either. Suck it up. Extra money. Happy girlfriend?” I said looking around the crowd of participants. Two girls wearing very small swimsuits waved me over. I let out a sigh and began walking over. “Good luck boys!” I called over my shoulder.

I scoffed watching some of the other groups go through the course. The ‘Inies’, as I called them, did fine. Hyunjin and Jeongin completed the course only thirty seconds shy of beating Jisung’s record. My group was the last to go. The three of us lined up at the start of the course and waited for Chan to give us the start.

Jisung leaned against one of the setup poles, clearly watching me with a heated stare. “GO!” Chan yelled. Setting my nerves aside I raced onto the course. First I vaulted onto the metal pole and pulled myself over. My feet flew across the sand as soon as they touched the ground. The crowd cheered and I sensed the other two girls hot on my heels. With a burst of energy I sped through the next two obstacles and then ran into the water.

All that was left to do was swim to the buoy and the crawl under the barbed wire. The sand was sticking to every inch of my wet body, the grains scratching against my skin. Ignoring how uncomfortable it felt I pushed myself out from under the barbed wire and sprinted to the bell the boys told us to ring once we finished the course.

Clang!

“That’s time!” Chan called pressing the stopwatch in his hand. I doubled over to catch my breath and Hyunjin and Jeongin came over and clapped their hands on my back. Jisung came to look over Chan’s shoulder and the two exchanged hushed words.

“Listen up folks! Someone has beaten Han’s record. With a time of three minutes and forty-two seconds, and the first member of the new Baywatch recruits: Y/n L/n!” The crowd clapped and Jisung rolled his eyes before sending me a cheeky smirk.

He grabbed the clipboard from Chan’s hands and flipped up a piece of paper. After scanning through the names he tucked the clipboard under his arm, bicep contracting, making my mouth water. “The remaining two spots will be filled by the next highest times; Hwang Hyunjin and Yang Jeongin.”

My boys high fived each other before running over and wrapping me up in a big group hug. “Congrats you guys!” Chan said coming over and joining our hug. It was a little awkward, but we got over it. “Here are your whistles and if you follow us to the Hut we can get you some uniforms!” Chan cheerfully said.

We followed his bobbing head of blonde hair to a raised lifeguard station that was four times as large as the others. “Welcome to the Hut,” Jisung said from behind me. His hand ghosted over my waist as he moved past me and to a row of lockers in the makeshift office. He opened the farthest locker, filled with lots of red garments. He tossed the Inies two pairs each of red swim trunks much like the ones he was wearing.

Jisung then handed me three pieces of red and white fabric. One was a standard one piece and the other was a red bikini I had seen some of the other female lifeguards wearing. “Either are acceptable in the workplace,” He said with a wink.

“The three lockers empty lockers on the end are yours. Go get changed and we’ll start training.” Changbin said. I caught him eyeing Hyunjin as my friend turned around to go change in the small backroom. “Jisung, you and I will take the Inies and Chan can train Y/n.”

“What if I wanna train Y/n?” I heard Jisung whine as I made my way to the backroom.

“Oh please. Like anything would get done then.”

Chuckling I pushed the door open and began changing in the dark supply closet. My elbows knocked against a broom leaning up against the wall as I tied the strap of the red bikini top. “Oh shit-” With fumbling hands, I grabbed at the broom and tried to stand it back in its place.

“Y/n, you okay?” A smooth voice asked from outside the closet door. Jisung wrapped his knuckles against the door. He probably heard me falling over the cleaning supplies.

“Yeah! I’m fine, Han.” I could hear him chuckle from the outside the closet. “You try standing still and putting on this tiny swimsuit!” My ears picked up on Jisung’s quiet laugh. I could see his bright blinding smile in my mind.

“Trust me, I know.”

“What?”

“What-” He cleared his throat and I heard his feet shuffle on the wood floor of the hut. “Uh....listen. Chan is out on the deck waiting when you finish. I’m taking Jeongin out for training.” After a few seconds of awkward silence, I watched the shadow of his feet retreat from the door.

Peeking my head out from the closet I looked to find the office empty. The huge windows let in warm light basking over the white floorboards. My bare feet padded across the floor and I stuffed my clothes in my new locker and grabbed my whistle tossing it around my neck.

Through the big window, I saw Chan leaning on the rail surveying the beach through a pair of binoculars. As I walked outside, I realized he wasn’t watching the waves but rather a certain umbrella down the beach. “Whatcha looking at?”

“AHHH!” Chan jumped almost four feet in the air, screaming his head off. He pressed a hand to his chest and closed his eyes. “Y/n, you gave me a fucking heart attack!” Chan grasped at his chest and gave me a pointed look.

“Sorry!” I patted him on the back and took the binoculars from his hands. My eyes turned to where Chan was previously looking. Under a pink beach umbrella sat a girl with wavy hair wearing a baggy shirt over a swimsuit. She was contently reading a very thick book and sipping on a purple smoothie. “Oh....Now I see what you were looking at.”

Chan blushed next to me and took his binoculars back. Crossing my arms I looked him up and down. “Who would have thought the Bang Chan, Dreamboat of the Beach, would have a crush on a beach bunny?” Chan’s ears turned a dark shade of red. “So, what’s her name?” I said nudging him, giving him a gentle smile.

“Cecilia,” He said shyly rubbing the back of his neck.

“What’s she like?”

He shrugged and looked to where she was lying under the beach umbrella. “We’ve only talked a few times, but-... she’s the sweetest. She’s very wholesome, and a little shy, but... I don’t know. She just makes me crazy in the best way possible.” Chan played with the bracelet on his wrist and timidly looked over at the girl, Cecilia. “She gets a little uncomfortable because I’m always with the guys.”

“Why don’t you go talk to her right now?”

His eyes widened and Chan practically turned into a little blonde puppy. “I get really nervous around her. Do you think she’d like me?” I turned back to the girl to find her already looking this way. When she saw me watching she quickly turned back to her book, shielding her face.

“Trust me. Go talk to her.” After a light shove down the wooden stairs, Chan started venturing towards Cecilia only to double back a second later.

“Oh! All the guards are throwing a bonfire party tonight. Even the ones from the north side of the beach. You and the boys should come!” I smiled from above on the deck.

“Then the Inies and I will be there. No doubt about it.” Chan grinned and gave me a thumbs up before jogging over to the pink umbrella. I turned back into the office and sat at the big desk. A huge binder lay on top of it. “Guess I better educate myself then,” I mumbled, taking the heavy folder and laying it in my lap.

❖

The door of my jeep slammed shut as Hyunjin jumped out of the backseat. The three of us had gone back to our beach rental to shower and change before returning to the bash. Also, Changbin asked us to stop by the store and pick up a keg. Jeongin helped me lift the metal cask down from my car and carry it down the huge bonfire that was lit down on the sand. Music could be heard even from the parking lot.

Hyunjin carried the two lightweight beach bags we brought with us while once again, Innie and I were left with the heavy stuff. “ALCOHOL!” Someone screamed pointing in our direction. Two shirtless boys came running up to us pushing passed Hyunjin.

As they got closer I saw it was Changbin and Jisung. The two skidded to a stop in front of us, their toes burying in the sand. “Wow. This really is the whole package. Hot girl. Beer. What more could a man ask for?” Jisung said throwing an arm around my shoulder.

Jeongin huffed beside me adjusting his hold on the metal container. “What am I? Chopped liver?” I laughed and nudged Jisung’s side.

“Give me hand with this?”

“Sure.” Instead of taking my side of the keg, Jisung walked over to Innie and patted him on the shoulder. “I’ve got it from here, bro.” Jeongin looked from me to the brunette beside him. Before I could say anything, he shrugged and handed the keg to Jisung. I blew a piece of hair out of my face and continued to walk down the beach with Jisung.

The two of us set the keg down near the bonfire. There was a small crowd nearby dancing to the music. By dancing...I meant severely, ferociously grinding. It was an almost laughable sight. “Y/n! You made it!” A voice called. Turning I saw Chan walking towards us, his arm wrapped around the girl from earlier today.

“I did! I see you grew a pair.” He blushed as I motioned to the pretty girl next to him. She was wearing shorts and a baggy t-shirt unlike the rest of us. It seemed everyone else was bikini clad or in swim trunks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, pointedly at Chan. He nervously laughed and gave me the cut it out signal.

“Nothing, baby girl. Guys this is Cecilia.” Everyone shook her hand and welcomed Chan’s apparent new girlfriend. Boy, the rest of the daydreaming beach bunnies were going to be sad to hear about this. I saw Cecilia get noticeably uncomfortable when she shook hands with Jisung and Changbin. Oddly Chan was also wearing a hoodie.

Never a day in my life had I seen the man not shirtless. “Are you okay, love?” I asked trying to reassure her. She timidly nodded, playing with the ends of her loose braid.

“Yeah...I’m just a little uncomfortable with the whole....man chests out and about. I’m barely comfortable with myself in a swimsuit.” I smiled and playfully covered up Jisung’s chest with my hands since he was standing next to me.

“Better?”

“Yes. Very.” Jisung said with a smirk.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “I wasn’t talking to you, Han.” He scoffed looking towards Cahn who had his head in his hands. Most likely in shame. Or embarrassment. Before my hands could leave even an inch from his chest, he grabbed my wrists and put my hands back. Cecilia chuckled and held Chan’s hand in hers.

“So, are you two like a thing? Chan said you’re both on the watch as well?” She asked pointing between the two of us.

“No.”

“Yes.”

I looked to Jisung with wide eyes. He let out a flustered laugh, looking between me and Cecilia. “What she means, is that we aren’t a thing...yet.” His hand wrapped around my waist pulling me into his side. This was shocking news to me. I was under the impression Jisung was a player who flirted with everyone.

When no one responded to his awkward answer, Jisung ran an apprehensive hand through his hair. “Umm...well....Y/n how about we save me from this awkward conversation and go for a swim down the beach?” Cecilia and I laughed.

“Sure, why not.”He smiled at my answer. Cecilia turned back to Chan and the two started to wander off on their own. Jisung let me shed my shorts and shoes before dragging me by the hand down the beach a little ways away from the party. Once we were waist deep into the water Jisung let go of my hand only to reach for my waist. Before I knew it I was over his shoulder, his laugh ringing out into the clear night. “Jisung, don’t you fucking dar-”

He didn’t let me finish. Without a second thought, he tossed me into the waves. Instead of popping up right away, I chose to stay under the water. Though it was dark, I could still make out the shape of Jisung’s legs. His muffled voice was calling out my name, concern lacing in his voice. Being careful to avoid touching him, I swam behind him and resurfaced. I pushed my hair out of my face and launched myself onto his back making him scream like a little girl.

“WHAT THE FUCK????!?!?!”

“Gotcha!”

He grinned, twisting his arms behind him and reaching for me. His smile was lighting up the dark. I had never seen him this happy. “Why have we never hung out like this before?” He asked looking over his shoulder at me. His skin radiated warmth in the cool ocean water. “Like, you’ve been coming here every summer. Why haven’t we spent time together?”

I shrugged, casually resting my arms around him. “I don’t know. You’re usually on duty or surrounded by hot girls. Or both.” He scoffed and turned around facing me. “I figured you didn’t even have time to look at someone like me.”

“You cannot be serious.” He laughed when I nodded. “Do you know how many times I was scolded for watching you from the tower? Or going outside my zone just to run past you and the Inies a couple times hoping you would come up and talk to me?”

A heat flooded my cheeks and I was suddenly very aware of how close Jisung was to me. I could practically see the stars reflecting in his big doe eyes. A wind blew across the water hitting my bare shoulders. The waves pushed us closer to shore, but I was captivated by the way Jisung was looking at me. His long fingers brushed away a strand of wet hair that was stuck to my cheek.

His eyes skimmed over my lips, thumb brushing over my cheek. He leaned in only the slightest bit. The air shared between us was warm and electric. I could feel Jisung’s heart hammering in his chest.

Just when I was sure he was about to kiss me, a wave crashed into the back of his head pulling us both underwater. Jisung held tightly onto my waist swimming us both back up to the surface. Our laughs lifted into the night. “Well...I wasn’t expecting that.” Jisung said wading back to shore. He helped me up and took my hand as we trudged onto the beach, sand catching between our toes in a familiar way. “We drifted pretty far from the party. We should head back.”

He kept his hand wrapped around mine as I watched him guide me back to the party, water lapping at our feet. Little pieces of sand were stuck to his tan skin. Instinctively I brushed them away from his back. He turned at the unexpected touch. “Sorry,”

“No...It’s fine.”

Jisung looked down at his feet as we continued walking. My mind started to run wild. What if that wave hadn’t knocked us over? Would he have kissed me? My body knocked into Jisung’s shoulder as he stopped suddenly. “What is it?” Jisung stared down at the sand, his brows furrowed. He bent down and brushed some sand off a bag about the size of my palm. White powder filled half of it. “Ji?”

He had a serious expression I had never seen before. Jisung scanned the horizon and the way we had just come down the beach. “Ji, talk to me. What is it?” He looked back down the bag in his hands.

“We’ve got a problem.” His fingers brushed over mine as he handed me the bag. “It’s C17H21NO4.” I looked up at him brows drawn together.

“Can’t you be a normal person and say cocaine?”

❖

A few days had passed and working on the watch was turning out to make the best summer ever. You got to hang out more with the boys. You discovered that Changbin, Jisung, and Chan were all music majors at the college about an hour away from yours. They were even in a group together called 3RACHA. Chan tended to play their music in the Hut. Hyunjin and I particularly loved a song on Chan’s laptop we found called ‘Wow’.

Jeongin, Hyunjin, and I were all jamming to the song as we waited for the boys to finally come into the hut. We had all woken up early and gotten there early to our shift. “WOW! SHE’S HOT!” We all screamed as the door to the hut opened and the three boys walked into the room. They all grimaced hearing the song.

“IRON MAN IN THE STREETS, BUT I’M BETTER THAN TONY!” We sang just as Chan lunged for the speaker turning it off. “Awwwww! We were having fun!” Changbin grimaced at us and yanked open his locker. Changbin ripped off the tank top he wore and shoved it on the top shelf. Jisung moved to his and did the same. Hyunjin elbowed me in the stomach when he saw me drooling over Jisung’s toned back, eyes wandering once again to the words inked on his side.

“You’re leaking from the mouth.” He said with a smirk.

“Am not.” Just in case, I swiped my hand across my lips. He laughed and grabbed a white cap from his bag covering his blonde hair. “So, Chan, what are we doing today?” Chan shredded his lifeguard hoodie before grabbing a clipboard on the desk.

Jisung and Changbin’s whispering was silenced by Chan throwing a shoe at them. “Ay! Bro! Don’t throw the Nikes!” Changbin said walking over rubbing his head. With an aggravated grumble, Changbin grabbed the clipboard out of Chan’s hands.

Before Changbin could even read the first station, the door to the hut opened and a familiar head of wavy blonde hair walked through the door. “CELI!” Chan screamed. He scrambled to the window and pulled the curtain over his chest. She blushed walking into the room. “Y/n...could you do me a favor...” Chan asked shyly pointing to his discarded hoodie on the floor.

Rolling my eyes with a smile, I picked up his red hoodie and handed it to him. Chan covered himself before emerging from the billowing curtain. Cecilia came to stand next to Jisung. Her eyes glanced over and her ears turned as red as a tomato. Chan immediately took notice and his hands flew to Jisung’s chest.

“Dude. What the fuck are you doing?”

“Censoring your nipples. Duh.”

“......” Jisung looked down at Chan’s hands, to me, then back up to his friend. “This has never been an issue before-”

“WELL, IT IS NOW!”

Hyunjin and I were doing our best not to laugh at Chan’s freakout. “Chan, it’s fine. I can handle it. Yeah...sure.” Cecilia gave a sweet smile and inched farther away from the still shirtless Jisung, who rolled his eyes.

Changbin cleared his throat and tapped the clipboard, annoyance in his eyes. “Can we get back to our jobs people?” After a series of grumbles, Changbin looked down and begin reading off our assignments for the day. “Jeongin, you are working the west tower solo today. Chan, you have the east tower.” He rolled his eyes as Chan whispered something to Celi with a big grin.

“Moving on,” He said pointedly. “Hyunjin you’re with me on Southeast ground patrol. Y/n, you’re with Han covering the southwest near the docks.” He tossed the clipboard on the desk and grabbed his whistle.

“YES!” Jisung cheered, punching the air in joy.

Everyone gave him weird looks. Chan shook his head. “Jisung, you’re the one who made the schedule.”

Jisung’s eyes flicked from me to Chan before he rubbed the back of his neck. His confident smile was now fueled by awkwardness and embarrassment. “Yeah...I remembered that...Come on, Y/n. Let’s go!” As we left Changbin turned the beach speakers on to the playlist for the day. A happy song blasted through the speakers all across the beach as people started to arrive. I think it was by a singer named Jessi. It made me feel confident about the day ahead of us.

Jisung and I ran down the beach to the sector we were covering for the day, waving at pedestrians who called out to us. “We haven’t really gotten a chance to talk since the bonfire,” Jisung said whistle bouncing against his chest as we ran.

The bonfire. Where he almost kissed me. Where he maybe...could have...kissed me. My chest swelled and I decided playing it cool was the best option. “Yeah, what about?” We were nearing the docks so we slowed down to a walk. Jisung seemed more focused on me than on observing and watching the safety of the beachgoers.

“Umm...Why don’t we take our break?”

“Jisung our shift started twenty minutes ago.”

“Let’s just talk under the docks okay?” He said a wild smile lighting up his face. Taking my hand he led me under the sturdy wooded structure. Once again water lapped at my toes, a cooling sensation flowing over the skin on my feet.

My back pressed against one of the wide wooden poles holding up the wharf above. Jisung stood in front of me, hands behind his back, and stare aimed firmly on the watery bay. “Is this about the bag we found on the beach that night?”

“The C17H21NO4?”

“For fuck’s sake just say cocaine, Ji.”

“How do you even know that means cocaine?”

“Ji, I took chemistry. I’m not stupid.”I said with a laugh. He smiled feeling my hand brushed over his arm. Jisung let his gaze wander over me. He smiled taking a step closer. Soon his chest was brushing up against mine.

“No more Han? I’m Ji now?” He smirked. Jisung’s brown shaggy hair fell in front of his eyes. I watched his teeth drag tantalizingly across his bottom lip. His tan skin felt warm under the palm of my hand. Just like the night of the bonfire, there was an electric air between us. It was amazing to feel him so close to me.

Far away music drifted under the dock, but all my focus stayed on the man in front of me. His left hand rested just below my hip. “There are many names I could start calling you.” He rose his brow in interest.

“Like what?”

He leaned down and placed a kiss just above my jaw. He smirked against my skin hearing me let out a small sigh. “I don’t know,” All the nerves in my body were firing off like rockets. “Idiot, knucklehead...my personal favorite is dumbass.” Jisung laughed, his teeth nibbling gently on my ear lobe.

“I can’t take this anymore,” He whispered, in a labored breath. I stared into his brown eyes. The way he was looking at me made my knees go weak.

“What?”

“I’ve got to kiss you or I’m going to go crazy.” He didn’t wait for my answer. Jisung’s lips smashed against mine. He kissed me like he had eaten in days and I was his first taste of succulent delicious food. I let my fingers tangle in his dark brown hair pulling him closer to me. I would have fallen had the pole and Jisung not been holding me up.

Kissing Jisung felt like music. Not one moment was the same but it all flowed as if it was made for one purpose. I felt his hand start to move below my waist, pulling me closer against him, as if there was any space left to begin with.

“Hey, guys.” The walkie-talkie crackled to life. Changbin’s voice had me pulling away from Jisung. He sighed ignoring the call, moving to continue our little makeout session.

“You should pick up; what if it’s important.”

Jisung shook his head kissing me again. “I trust them. Plus they’ve got the Inies.” I smiled, reaching behind Jisung. He smirked feeling my hand on the back of his swim trunks. “Oh really?” He asked, our noses brushing together. He let out a breathy laugh as I bit my lip. His smile fell when I pulled the walkie talkie from its place and pressed it against his chest.

“Pick up the call.”

He sighed, pressing his forehead against mine. “This is SW Patrol; Jisung. What the fuck do you want Changbin?” Jisung backed away only far enough that he could talk on the radio. I smiled watching him all pent up.

“We got a complaint about some serious PDA on the beach. Could you check it out?” Changbin’s voice crackled through the channel. Jisung sighed, but he had a knowing smirk on the corner of his lips.

Another channel crackled to life before he could respond. “Actually that might have been us,” Chan said over the channel. Jisung and I both laughed.

His long slender fingers pressed down opening up the channel for him to speak. “Yeah. It was Chan and Celi. Totally no one in our sector.” Changbin sighed over the radio.

“Both of you quit making out and do your jobs.”

The radio went silent and Jisung returned to his previous position. “Now where were we?” He asked, his hands wondering lower than publicly appropriate. You laughed and kissed him again. “Please just be my girlfriend already?” The boy whispered against my lips.

I opened my eyes to look at him, but something in the distance caught my attention. Out on the water, there was a billowing trail of black smoke. My eyes widened realizing what it was. “Fire.”

“I believe the correct answer is ‘yes’.”

“No, Jisung. Fire. Out on the water.” I exclaimed harshly turning his head out to the bay.

“Oh fuck!” He hastily grabbed the walkie-talkie and tuned into an open channel. “All guards! We have a 10-73! There’s a boat on fire to the southwest. Prepare to go for first response.”

The two of us sprinted out from under the docks. I looked frantically around before my eyes landed on a jetski by the pier. “Ji, let’s go!” I said making a run for it.

I reached the vehicle first and strapped on the emergency belt. “Move. I’ll drive!” Jisung said motioning for me to scoot back.

“Jisung just get on! We have no time for this.”

“But the guy always drives-”

“GET THE FUCK ON YOU LITTLE BITCH WE HAVE PEOPLE TO SAVE!”

Without another word, Jisung threw his leg over the back and we took off out on the waves. The wind blew through our hair as we raced to the sight of the fire. In the corner of my eye, I saw the rescue boat coming from the south with the rest of the boys on it. With one arm, he held onto my waist as I drove the water vehicle and with the other, he reached down and readied some rope and a buoy for survivors in the water. “So,” He said over the roar of the waves. “You didn’t answer my question!”

Unbelievable. “Ji, there’s a fire! Are you sure this is the time?”

“There couldn’t be a better one in my opinion.” I heard him laugh behind me and I couldn’t help but smile. The fire was getting closer now. There were flames burning on top of the water and I could now see that the burning vessel was a yacht.

“Yes. I will be your girlfriend! Let’s do our job now!”

The rescue boat pulled up alongside us, Chan at the helm. “We need to send a team aboard to get survivors!” He called down as I shut off the engine a couple yards away from the flames.

“Don’t worry! I’ve got it!” Before we could say anything Jisung dove into the water and under the flames.

“JISUNG!” I screamed. Without hesitation, I dove in after him.

❖

The heat of the flames brushed above my back through the ocean water. I swam to avoid pieces of falling firey debris. Just as my chest started to burn I resurfaced on the other side of the flames. Frantically I looked around for any sign of Jisung.

The first twenty minutes of us dating and he decides to literally jump into a wall of fire. “Jisung I’m going to fucking kill you when I find you!” A head popped out of the water, shaking out his dark hair. “HAN JISUNG!” I screeched watching him tread water.

He turned, a cheeky smile on his face. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” I swam over just to whack him upside the head. He rubbed the back of his head before swimming towards the yacht. “You can hit me later. Let’s save some people.”

Together we swam to the side of the ship. The muscles in Jisung’s back flexed as he pulled himself over the side. His hand reached for mine, lifting me over the side of the white boat. Black smoke filled the air and Jisung and I looked for a way into the cabin of the burning vessel.

“Help me!” A girl screamed. I turned seeing a hand reaching out from around the corner.

“There!”

Jisung and I rushed to the woman. She was stuck under a piece of fallen equipment. “Ah! You, sexy water man! You are here to save me, yes?” Somehow despite her dire situation the young woman still managed to push her large breasts forward like a peacock showing off its plumage.

“Y/n, can you get that side and I’ll pull her out?” Nodding I positioned my hands under the heavy equipment and lifted on Jisung’s count. With a grunt I let the heavy object fall back down once the girl was clear. “Signal Chan to come around port side.”

While Jisung busied himself with grabbing an intact life vest for the woman, I ran to the helm sending Chan the signal to come around to the right. When I turned the woman was trying to throw herself all over my new boyfriend. He carried her in his arms, life jacket around her neck. They stood on the port side waiting for Chan.

“Okay, handsome! If you want me you can have me, But, quickly cause the boat is on fire.” She exclaimed, wrapping her long painted fingers around his neck.

She leaned in to kiss him, but before she got close I grabbed her from Jisung’s arms and tossed her into the water where Chan was swimming to the boat to help.

“He’s got a girlfriend too! So don’t try anything!”

Jisung laughed before tapping my shoulder. “That was hot.” Rolling my eyes, I moved back to the cabin which was still very much on fire.

“IN HERE!” Another voice called. Jisung looked for a break in the fire near the door. I watched him ram his shoulder against the wood several times before it broke. The two of us searched the rooms looking for the voice.

I burst through the bedroom door, pain shooting through my shoulder. How the hell did Jisung do it so effortlessly? Probably his Herculean broad shoulders, I thought scowling. The frown fell when my eyes fell to the center of the room. A man maybe in his late forties lay dead on the floor. A bullet hole centered perfectly in his forehead.

All the drawers and closets were spilled open and a trail over white powder stained the carpet. “Shit.” I looked around for any other survivors. “Jisung! Dead body.”

“What do you mean dead bod-” He said walking into the room with a girl, soot covering her face. “Oh...that dead body.” He started stuttering, brown hair falling in front of his round eyes. “Uh....take her. She’s the last one. I checked.” Nodding, I took the girl by the hand and pulled her through the burning boat.

“You’re leaving that lifeguard? What about Councilman Kang?” The skinny woman whined in my arms.

“Don’t worry about Jisung. He’ll take care of it.” The girl screamed as I tossed her overboard to where Chan was waiting below. Not looking back, I dove into the water and swam with Chan and the girl back to the boat.

“Where’s Han?” Chan said as we pulled ourselves aboard the lifeguard's vessel.

The speedboat started moving around the yacht. “He’s towards the front. There was a body.” Chan nodded and looked back at the burning boat. Through the thick black smoke, I saw Jisung at the bow of the yacht carrying the dead man. The flames surrounded the boat giving him no clear place to escape.

Changbin steered the boat as close as he could, but couldn’t get to him. “He can’t go under the flames. Not even Jisung could swim that far carrying that much weight.” The boy said.

“JISUNG!” Chan called, hands cupping around his mouth. The man turned at his hyung’s voice and strained to hear what he had to say. “Move to the back! We’ll come get you!”

“There’s no time!”

“JISUNG DON’T-”

Again, Jisung ignored Chan, diving under the water with the dead Councilman. “JISUNG!” I screamed. We raced into action. Jeongin and Chan jumped on the jet skis attached to our boat and I grabbed a preserver before diving in after him. I was seriously going to kill him if he didn’t die first.

The fire cast a bright orange glow under the water. Spotting Jisung, his body limp and still holding onto the dead man, I started swimming deeper. He must have hit his head on some hidden debris.

Working with fast fingers, I pried his strong grip from the Councilman and pushed the body away from us to the service. Chan would pick it up. I panicked seeing Jisung’s unconscious face. Wrapping an arm securely around his chest I began swimming upwards, the task eight times harder while carrying Jisung’s weight against gravity.

I gasped breaking through the ocean surface. My legs pumped through the water trying to keep both of us afloat as I waved down Jeongin. “Innie! Over here!” My friend steered the jet ski over to us, his black hair flying in the wind.

“He’s unconscious. Help me lift him up.”

Jeongin groaned, trying to lift Jisung onto the ski. I did my best to push him from the other side. “How can he be this heavy? His waist is fucking tiny!” I said pushing my most likely concussed boyfriend across the ski. Changbin was already steering the boat away from the burning yacht as the Coastguard approached. “Let’s go. Jisung needs attention.”

“What else is new?” Innie mumbled before driving the ski towards the boat. I held onto Jisung making sure he didn’t fall off. My hand wrapped securely on his shoulder and thigh, rubbing over the intricate design of the dragon on his skin.

Changbin stopped the boat letting us pull up alongside. Chan and Jeongin carried Jisung laying him on the floor. I crawled over him, checking his mouth to make sure his airway was clear. My hands pressed to his chest starting compressions. After a minute he coughed spewing water up at my face.

Jisung gasped, rolling over but not going far with my ontop of him. The first thing he looked at was me. “You fucking idiot!” I yelled, slapping him across the cheek.

“OW!”

“You could have died, Ji!”

“Dude, she’s right. That was really stupid.” Changbin said starting the boat again. With tired arms, Jisung pushed himself up to a sitting position and wrapped me up in a hug. I heard the girl from before huff and saw her cross her arms watching Jisung hold me so tightly.

I stuck my tongue out at her which earned me a slap on the head from Hyunjin. “Let’s just get back to shore so we can give the police our report,” Chan said handing the girls some towels.

“Anybody have some aspirin?” Jisung asked, rubbing the top of his head.

❖

“Is this what dating you is going to be like?” I asked. Jisung sat on his kitchen counter holding an ice pack to his head. He shrugged and watched me open the first aid kit. Chan sent him home since he had used all his stupid passes for the day.

I drove Jisung to the beach house he rented and was now searching through his inadequately stocked medical supplies.

“Yeah, but I was quite the hero today wasn’t I?”

“You would have been a dead hero had I not gone in after you.” The shirt Jisung lent me brushed over my thighs as I walked back over to him. Delicately, I cleaned the cut on his forehead, ignoring the whines from Jisung. “You saw the drugs in the cabin, right?” I asked hesitantly.

Jisung nodded, looking into my eyes. “Just like we found on the beach the other night.” He looked out the window staring at the sea. Working for the Baywatch must have given him a huge discount because the house was right on the waterfront. “Chan and I have been trying to get the police involved, but they won’t take us seriously.” He laughed and took the supplies from my hands. “They said we were just a bunch of goofy lifeguards probably getting high on the stash we found anyway.”

His hands wrapped mine, playing with my fingers. “Speaking of high,” I said, playing with the bottom of Jisung’s tank top. “Changbin texted me. He said the girls we rescued were high as kites. They were partying below deck so they have no clue how the Councilman ended up with a bullet in his head.”

“They probably got it from the stash on the yacht.” Jisung hopped down from the counter and stood in front of me, his chest brushing against mine. “Also, that was badass what you did to that girl.” With an embarrassed laugh, I buried my face in his chest. “If you want me you can have me, but quickly because the boat is on fire!” Jisung mocked in a high voice.

“Don’t tease her!” My hand softly smacked against his chest. “She was high and you were hot.”

“Were? Past tense?”

“Well, you do have on more clothes now.”

“So, you’re saying I have circumstantial hotness. I see. So, you are only with me because of my abs and tattoos and general lifeguard sexiness?” Jisung smiled, watching me laugh.

“Tell me I’m wrong. If we weren’t dating you would have taken that girl home with you.” Jisung sighed, pulling me closer to him. “That isn’t a no,” I said with a small laugh.

“But, I brought you home.” Jisung’s hands fell below my waist, a smirk playing at the corning of his mouth. He walked me backwards until I was pressed against the kitchen wall, a position he seemed to like me in.

The air had changed between us, now charged with sexual tension. “I would have you right here until you begged for mercy twice,” Jisung whispered, staring into my eyes. My brow quirked up, watching him hungrily gaze down at my lips.

“I’ve never begged in my life.”

“Twice.”

My stomach began to twist itself in knots, making me squeeze my legs together. Never before had I imagined Jisung would be like this. Never in my wildest dreams, which were getting wilder by the second. He exuded dominance pressing his hands firmly into my hips. “Twice?” He nodded leaning closer than I thought possible. His warm breath fanned over my lips.

Just the way he was looking at me was almost enough to push me over the edge and take him right on his kitchen counter. “Bedroom. Now.” My voice was muffled and came out more like a whine feeling his thigh push between my legs. His head dipped letting his lips drag just below my ear.

“Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop.” All it took was for him to feel me nod before he pulled away and kissed my lips deeply. “Bedroom is that way.” Jisung jerked his head towards the hall pulling his hips against mine.

“Well, you’ll just have to catch me then,” I said cheekily slipping from his grasp and slapping his ass as I ran down the hall. He laughed, the sound of his steps thundering down the hall after me.

I screamed feeling his arms wrap around me and lift me into the air. Setting me down, Jisung enveloped me into a kiss letting his fingers tug my shirt over my head. He tossed me onto his bed, leaving me to watch as he ripped off his shirt. My eyes hungrily dragged over his torso eyeing the tattoo on his side and the way his muscles flexed and contracted as he let out shaky happy breaths.

“You keep staring at me like that and I’ll have to ruin you.” Jisung’s shoulders dropped watching my tongue whip over my bottom lip. “You naughty, naughty girl.” Grabbing my ankles, he tugged me across the bed before sliding my shorts down and flinging them across the bedroom.

Jisung hovered over me, hands traveling anywhere he could reach. I was growing impatient not being able to touch him the way I wanted. My hands pushed against his strong shoulders, flipping him back onto the bed. His arms wrapped around my waist, letting my legs fall on either side of his hips.

I sighed against his lips, feeling his hips press up against mine. Letting my lips guide my actions I moved down his neck and chest. I looked up to see Jisung’s hands covering his face, attempting to silence how I was making him feel. Seeing his reaction, I let my tongue slide over his toned stomach and graze across the inked skin on his right side. A heavenly moan left his lips. My hand fell down further and ghosted over the growling bulge beneath his shorts.

“Ah...fuck-” He moaned as my tongue licked down his torso, inching dangerously close to the low hanging waistband. His head lifted up when I pulled away. “Shit- why’d you stop?”

Smirking, I started playing with the band of his shorts. “Oh, don’t mind me. Just enjoying the view.” As my fingers hooked around the fabric he pulled me back up to his lips and helped me pull them down. “Do you have...you know?” I asked between heated kisses.

Jisung nodded, hands groping my ass and grinding up against my core. “In the drawer.” With quick impatient hands, I reached over to the nightstand yanked open the drawer. “You’re on the pill right? Just in case.”

“Yeah, of course.” Finding a strip of condoms I tore one off, and returned to Jisung’s lips. My eyes closed, letting myself fall into the blissful daze Jisung was sending me into. Letting him wreck and ravish my body was the only thing on my mind.

❖

Almost a month later I found myself in the same place. Jisung’s bed. A light sheen of sweat lay on my skin and his. His sheets did a lousy job of covering anything but my hips resting over his. My head rested on his chest, letting his fingers play with my hair.

His legs were tangled with mine around and under the covers. The art on his side drew my attention. Jisung watched my fingers trace over the words on his ribcage. I had watched him for so long and been with him more than a few times and I had yet to ask him about his tattoos.

Delicately, I traced each line of the words on his ribs; ‘I See’. “What does it mean?” Jisung looked down at me, watching my hand move over the ink.

“It’s the first song I ever seriously wrote.”

“Can I hear it?”

A cool breeze floated through the open windows in his bedroom. The stars reflected on the rolling waves. Jisung shook his head. “It’s nothing much.” He nuzzled into my hair, letting me draw over the natural and drawn lines on his body.

“I doubt that if it is physically inked on your skin.” A laugh rumbled through his chest. My touch wandered down to the dark ink on his thigh. “What about these?”

He looked down and laughed. “Oh- I just like dragons.” Among the black lines and shading of the large dragon wrapped around his thigh were other gorgeous drawings like out of an ancient Japanese text. A symbol caught my eye.

“Is that the Chinese character for soup?”

“No. It means perseverance.”

“No. It means soup.”

Jisung laid his head back on the pillow, eyes wide. “That would explain why the guy was laughing so much when he did the tattoo.” He rolled over on top of me, adjusting the sheets to shield us more from the night wind. His head nuzzled into my neck. “Where do the Inies think you are?” Jisung questioned.

I shrugged. “Hyunjin could care less. He spends most of his nights facetiming his girlfriend, Aiya.”

“Can’t relate. Mine has been in my bed every night.”

Scoffing, my fingers began threading through his dark hair. “Innie is a little suspicious. But, usually, I just buy him boba the next day and he doesn’t care.” Jisung nodded and held onto me like a teddy bear. His warm skin acted like my own personal sun.

“Noted. Jeongin can be bribed with boba.”Jisung’s head lifted hearing a yawn slip past my lips. “You tired, baby? I nodded, cuddling further into him. “Get some sleep. We both have shifts tomorrow.” Jisung leaned over pressing his lips gently against mine. I fell asleep with my arms wrapped around him and his lips sleepily trailing down my neck and shoulder.

❖

“Every night?” My dark haired friend asked in disbelief. Jeongin walked beside me as we made our way back to the Hut. The sunset cast a gold and red glow over the beach. Our shift would be over soon and I could not wait. This had been a long day and I wanted nothing more than to go home and collapse in bed. “You guys are procreating like rabbits.” I laughed at his word choice. “I’m sorry, but I do not need mini Y/ns and Jisungs running around.”

Jeongin climbed the creaky wooden steps up to the Hut. Rough outlines of his feet in sand followed his steps to the door. Through the windows, I could see Hyunjin, Changbin, and my boyfriend inside. “Where’s Chan?” I asked seeing him missing as we entered the base.

Changbin sighed, flipping through the day’s log. “He took Celi down to the dock to watch the sunset.” I caught Jisung eyeing me from across the room. He stuck out his tongue and shook his head at me, eliciting a laugh.

“So, Inies,” Changbin started. The blonde and brunette raised their heads waiting for what Changbin had to say. “Looks like it’s your turn to do the night walk.” They groaned and whined. The night walk was done by two lifeguards after the beach closed. It was typically a long cold walk with flashlights making sure no one was on the beach. It usually took an extra two hours that you did not get paid for.

“But, Aiya is waiting for me to call!”

“I just want to go home!”

Jisung shot me a look standing near his open locker. He crossed his arms, tan shoulders leaning against the cool metal. Despite my tired feet and my urge to sleep for a week I smiled, knowing what he was thinking.

“Y/n and I can do it.” The Inies quickly stopped their pleading turning to my boyfriend.

“No argument from me. They can do it.” Hyunjin said grabbing his stuff and racing out the door. Jeongin quickly followed. Changbin shrugged, tossing the clipboard on the desk.

“Y/n, you might want a jacket. It’s going to get cold.” Changbin said, patting my shoulder. He turned to the boy with tousled brown hair and threw him the ring of metal keys. “Jisung, don’t forget to lock up when you’re done.”

With a final wave, Changbin grabbed his bag and shut the door behind him, descending the stairs. “You’re buying me dinner,” I said wrapping my arms around his waist. “Pizza sounds good.”

“That’s fair. I’ll get you pizza.” Jisung cupped my cheeks before pecking my lips. He turned back to his open locker, pulling out a grey unzipped hoodie. “Here.” The fabric swallowed me as he sweetly helped me slip my arms into the jacket. Listing his head, he smiled, cheeks filling and eyes turning into crescent moons. “You look too cute.”

I smiled watching him lean down and capture my lips in a kiss. My stomach twisted in knots only he could tie. “We should get going. I want my pizza sooner than later.” He nodded and grabbed two flashlights. Slipping my phone into the jacket pocket I followed Jisung down onto the beach.

Time always seemed to pass quickly with him. It felt like this summer had only started yesterday, so by the time we reached the end of the beach hand in hand my tiredness was long forgotten.

“Yeah, so then Changbin-” Jisung interrupted his own story. His eyes strained against the dark. “Do you see that?” Further down the shore, my eyes pushed past the darkness to see the outline of a speedboat beached on the sand. Several men were loading packages onto the vessel.

“Yeah,” I latched onto Jisung’s arm looking up at him. “You want me to call it in?”

He shook his head continuing to watch from afar. “No, Changbin already left. Stay here. I’ll go check it out.” Turning on his flashlight, he kissed my cheek before walking down the beach.

A chilling breeze blew over the sand. Shoving my hands in my pockets I watched Jisung approach the four men. The beam from his light fanned over the wrapped cargo. My skin crawled. Something felt off. I couldn’t hear anything from where I stood, but I could tell the men were getting more than angry at Jisung for walking into whatever they were doing.

The muscles in Jisung’s back rippled as he pointed up the beach, most likely telling them to leave. My body froze. Under the moonlight, I thought I saw the glint of a gun being pulled from a jacket. All I could do was try not to scream hearing the sound of a round being fired and watching Jisung fall to the ground.

“Jisung!”

Ignoring the man they just shot, the men pushed the boat out into the water. The sand beneath my feet made it hard to run. I slipped and fell but scrambled to my feet racing over to Jisung. He clutched his stomach, labored breaths struggling to escape.

“Jisung!” He looked up at me as I kneeled next to him. Moving his hands I saw blood seeping out of the bullet wound. Jisung struggled to keep his eyes open. “Ji, baby, stay with me.” He cried out in pain feeling me put pressure on the wound. Hands shaking, I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

Dialing emergency services, I waited for someone to answer as Jisung still bled out beside me. “Yes? Hello! I’m at Cheonsa Beach! It’s an emergency. We need an ambulance.”

“Okay, calm down Miss.”

“Calm down? My boyfriend was just shot!”

The sound of her typing carried through the phone. “The ambulance is three minutes out.” Nodding, I looked back at Jisung. “Just keep pressure on the bullet wound and make sure your boyfriend stays awake.” In the distance, I heard the sound of sirens.

“Over here!” Several EMTs ran towards us with a gurney. “We’re over here!” More sirens approached, flashing red and blue.

“What happened?”

“We were making sure everyone had left the beach. We saw some guys loading packages into a boat and he told me to wait while he went to check it out. The next thing I know they shot him and sailed off.” They nodded and lifted Jisung onto the gurney. Running alongside them, they asked me questions about Jisung, most of which I couldn’t answer. “Sorry, I don’t know.”

“Okay. You can ride with us to the hospital. You’ll have to give a statement to the police and you’re boyfriend will most likely need surgery.”

Hoisting myself up into the ambulance I sat next to the gurney, holding onto Jisung’s hand. The EMT with us tried to keep him awake by asking him questions. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He just in shock right now. We’ll have to do more tests when we get to the hospital.” She gave me a less than an optimistic smile. “Just in case- we tell most everyone this. You should call someone to be with you.” Not letting go of Jisung’s hand I reached once more for my phone. My heart stopped seeing the dark red stains on my hand. Shakily I called the first person I thought of who I wanted with me. They picked up on the second ring.

“Y/n, what’s up. I’m not-”

“Jeongin...something happened.”

❖

The bright lights of the hospital hallways were still hurting my eyes despite the many hours I had spent here. Jisung’s blood stained hoodie still hung on my shoulders. Jeongin had grabbed some board shorts from his bag so I was a little more covered standing in a passageway teaming with medical professionals.

Apparently, he and Hyunjin had just gotten back to our rental house so they raced back over still in their beachwear. Jeongin called the other boys and Chan left Celi to meet us at the hospital. It was almost eighteen hours since Jisung had been admitted and I had been talking to the police for the last three. Changbin stepped out of the room an hour ago letting me know that he Jisung had woken up.

My mind was elsewhere, thinking about nothing but seeing my boyfriend. “Thank you so much for your statement. We will be in contact later about the investigation.” Nodding I bowed to the officer, desperately wanting to go back into the hospital room. “An officer will be back in a few days to take your boyfriend’s statement as well. I hope he makes a quick recovery.”

The officer shook my hand and then bid me farewell. The click of the door was an announcement of my entrance. All five pairs of eyes stared at me as I closed it behind me. I was first drawn to the dark round set sitting in the bed. Wasting no time I rushed to Jisung. It took all of my strength not to cry feeling him hold onto me so tightly.

“You’re okay,” I whispered into his neck.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. You’re stuck with me.” Jisung pulled me to sit on the bed so he could hug me even tighter. The second I felt him pull away I was prepared to let him go, instead, he pulled me down kissing me deeply.

“Guys- get a room.”

Jisung pulled away, eyes wide and a shy smile on his face. “Hey! This is technically my room! I’ll kiss my girlfriend if I want to.”

Jeongin rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “That’s my best friend your kissing. Watch your hands, assface.” Jisung removed his hands from well below my waist seeing the death inducing glare the youngest Inie was sending his way.

“How are you guys not cold?” I asked noticing all of them had come still in their beachwear. None of them seemed to find the time to put on a shirt. Changbin shrugged and flexed next to Chan. “No shirt, no shoes, no problem.” He said slapping his bicep.

“I don’t think that applies to a hospital,” I whispered, lacing my fingers with Jisung’s. He chuckled, but winced clutching his side.

Chan sighed and motioned me over. Reluctantly I left Jisung to talk to him. “The doctor said he’ll have to stay here for at least a week. Maybe a couple days more.” My fingers raked through my hair as I watched Jisung swat away Hyunjin’s hands from a box of chocolates someone had left for him. “We’re going to have to keep a close eye on him when he gets discharged.”

I nodded. “Look I’ll stay here tonight with him. When he gets discharged, I’ll stay at his place and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Y/n,” Chan started, gently holding onto my arm. The action felt brotherly, like he was taking care of me. “You’ve been awake for over thirty-six hours. I can stay here tonight. Celi said she would drop by later anyway.”

“Chan, I’m not leaving him.”

He opened his mouth about to say something but was interrupted by the door swinging open and a cheery brunette waltzing in. She carried a plate covered in a clear wrap. “Knock, knock! I- oh....this is uh...” Her eyes widened and her cheeks turned red seeing all but Jisung standing around shirtless. Eyes bulging, Chan lept for the curtains covering himself. Jeongin grabbed an extra blanket form Jisung’s bed and Changbin hid behind me. Hyunjin grabbed the nearest object to him which happened to be a bedpan.

“EEEEKK!” He screeched realizing what it was, the metal object crashing onto the floor.

“Celi! Uhh... I thought you were coming later?” Chan stuttered from behind the somewhat sheer curtain over him. He seemed drawn to curtains in these situations.

Doing her best to suppress the blush on her cheeks she set the plate down on a table and pulled a hoodie out of the bag she had with her, tossing it to her boyfriend. “Well, I made cookies and thought it would make Jisung feel better.” She motioned to the platter filled with homemade baked goods.

Jisung’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “I got shot. How are cookies supposed to help?”

A fire lit in Chan’s eyes and I sent an equally chilling glare his way. “Jisung!” I scolded through my teeth.

“THANK YOU FOR THE COOKIES! I LOVE THEM VERY MUCH!” He screeched in higher register than I thought possible as he slid down the headboard, hiding from the combined power of Chan and my glares.

Thanking Cecilia again on my boyfriend’s behalf I took the cookies and brought them over to his bedside table. Like second nature, Jisung pulled me next to him on the bed and watched me unwrap the plate. He opened his mouth, expecting me to feed him a still warm and gooey cookie.

Jisung whined when I bit into it instead. “Y/n, baby, I got shot. Please!” Rolling my eyes I placed a cookie in his mouth and watched his cheeks fill up with the sweet goodness Celi had made. He smiled and gave her a thumbs up. “Thank you, gorgeous.” He said kissing my cheek. I shrugged and fought the smile edging its way onto my face.

“You get shot again, and I’ll have to kill you, Han.”

Jisung smiled, eyes crinkling up before he nodded. “I promise I won’t get shot by drug traffickers.” I leaned down kissing him again. His familiar long fingers brushed over my cheek.

“Y/N L/N!”

My name was screamed from the doorway. Jumping away from Jisung I saw my parents standing there, fury the only expression on their faces. “Mom?” Jisung looked from me to my mother, eyes wide and most likely more afraid of her than he was of me earlier.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” My father yelled. Even Changbin flinched at his tone. Hyunjin and Jeongin were used to situations like these and slowly decided to hide behind the closet. The tension in the room couldn’t be cut with a knife it was so thick.

“Who the hell is he? Is he the one who almost got you shot?” My mother screeched, pointing at Jisung. I stood at a loss for words. The man in the bed looked up at me with soft doe eyes, clearly confused.

“Mom, you don’t understand. It wasn’t Jisung’s fault. He did nothing wrong-”

“You could have died because of him!”

“Mom!”

My father sighed stepping in. The rest of the room watched the exchange quietly. “Your mother is right. You are coming home with us. We let you come to the beach one last time to spend the summer with your friends. Instead, we get a call in the middle of the night saying your little boy toy has you involved in a drug investigation.” Jisung threw his legs out of the bed but I stopped him from getting up.

“Dad, Jisung is-”

“I don’t care if Jisung is Gandhi. You are coming home with us and you are never coming back to Cheonsa.” Not letting me say another word, my father grabbed my wrist and began dragging me out the door. I heard Jisung clamber out of the hospital bed and the others attempt to stop him. Looking back I saw him tearing out IVs and pushing past the boys as my parents dragged me away.

“Dad, please!”

“Sir! Mr. L/n! Please!” Jisung ran after us down the hall nurses staring as he clutched his side. “Please! Mr. L/n! I love your daughter. Please, let me explain!” I turned back with wide eyes, but all I could see was Jisung and the heartbroken look on his face as my parents pulled me into a closing elevator.

He loved me.

❖

Jisung’s POV

I sat staring at my phone. Nothing. I had heard nothing from Y/n in the past twelve days. The Inies reassured me that she was fine, but her parents had confiscated her phone and basically put her under house arrest.

This was all my fault.

It felt like a part of me was missing. My thumb hovered over my gallery wanting to look at her pictures again. Unable to resist the urge I opened the app and smiled seeing her face. In only two months my camera roll had become full of her.

Just as I was about to click on a photo my phone was snatched out of my hand. “You packed, bro?” Hyunjin asked tossing my phone onto the bed. I nodded towards the bag in the chair. I was being discharged in an hour. Yesterday I passed the physical saying I was good to go home. But, home wasn’t home without Y/n. Jeongin entered the room and gave me a pity smile. With one last check-in from the doctor, I was released.

“Is this really necessary?” I questioned the nurse as Jeongin pushed me through the lobby in a wheelchair. Hyunjin was taking photos of me a giant grin on his face.

“Yeah, is this necessary?” Jeongin groaned from behind me. The nurse nodded and opened the door for us. Jeongin noticed my, for lack of a better descriptor, depressed as fuck face. “Dude, if you miss her this much go get her.”

Jeongin stopped just outside the hospital doors, making me turn my head. “I can’t even protect myself from thugs on the beach. How am I supposed to take care of her? How am I supposed to prove myself to them? I’m a music production major. Her parents aren’t going to take me seriously.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes coming to stand in front of me. “Okay, first of all, you were attacked with a gun. You aren’t fucking Superman. No matter how much you work out your abs will not stop a bullet.” I looked down at my hands, taking in everything the blonde said. “You’ve just got to seize the day. If you want her, go and get her.”

“Seize the day? Really?” Jeongin asked, brows raised.

“I watched Dead Poets Society last night. Sue Me. Robin Williams is a fucking genius.”

As the two of them argued about Robin Williams, I thought more about what Hyunjin said. I was never going to get her back if I didn’t try. If I didn’t believe I could convince her parents, then I wouldn’t be able to. I would do anything to be with Y/n. “You’re right,” I said standing up from the wheelchair, stopping the Inies’ argument. “I am gonna seize the day!”

It was Jeongin’s turn to roll his eyes and he pushed me back down into the chair. “Seize the day when there is less of a hole in your stomach.” With a huff, I sat back down as Innie pushed the chair forward towards the car. “Also,” The young black haired boy started. “Seize your wallet. There’s a taco truck down the street and I’m hungry.”

Reluctantly, I pulled my wallet from my bag to pay for Jeongin and his tacos. I wasn’t about to wait on Y/n though. The second I was able, I was going to get her back.

❖

Y/n’s POV

“Y/n, are you sure you don’t want to eat?” My mom called from downstairs. I laid on my bed staring up at the ceiling. Subconsciously I lifted the black shirt I was wearing up to my nose and breathed in the scent. My parents were kind enough to let me go back to the beach house the Inies and I shared and let me pack.

Wearing Jisung’s shirt gave me a little bit of comfort. That was until I thought about the fact my parents never wanted me to see him again. The shirt smelled like rain on the beach. A very certain scent. A scent that seemed to follow Jisung no matter where he went.

“No. I’m not eating,” I shouted back.

Rolling over my bed, I turned to see a stuffed octopus staring back at me. “What are you looking at?” It did nothing but keep its sewn smile on its purple face. Downstairs I heard the doorbell ring. Not taking the plush octopus’s shit, I threw it across the room in anger. Faintly I heard the sound of the door opening and a familiar voice floated through the house. Great, now I was imagining his voice.

Wait. No. That was him. That was Jisung’s voice. Falling off the bed, I scrambled to my feet swinging my bedroom door open. Hiding behind the stair banister, I watched my mother reluctantly let Jisung into the house. His dark hair was neatly styled and pushed away from his forehead. Simple silver earrings dangled and bounced against his skin. He wore a navy suit jacket and a simple white shirt, tucked into the matching dress pants. The pants were cropped making him look a little taller and revealing the tan skin of his ankles.

Jisung respectfully bowed as my father entered the room and looked around, eyes turning to the staircase. I ducked down, hitting my head on the railing in the process. “Ow-shit,” I whispered rubbing the top of my head.

Peaking around the corner I saw my parents lead Jisung into the living room. He sat down on the couch, still in my view. My parents sat across from him, their backs to me. Just seeing his face made my heartrate shift to lightspeed.

“I would like to reintroduce myself,” He started, deep voice bouncing off the walls and carrying to my hiding place. “My name is Han Jisung. I’m twenty years old. I’m a music production major at Seoul University....and your daughter is the love of my life.”

I could already see my mother shaking her head. She wouldn’t except less than a rich doctor with a terrible personality for me. Let me tell you, most of the medical students don't have time to date. I could tell Jisung was starting to get nervous by the way his leg shook and he began anxiously turning the ring on his left hand round his finger.

“Let’s just push away the fact that you nearly got my daughter shot.” Jisung winced and looked away, before meeting my father’s eyes once more. “What are your intentions with my daughter, Y/n?”

Jisung sighed, wringing his hands together. What were his intentions with me? I knew that he was serious about our relationship, but past that I was clueless. With an unwavering gaze, he looked back to my father. “I intend to marry her, sir. Not any time soon, but I do want to marry her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I love Y/n.”

It was impossible to keep the smile from spreading over my face. My parents shared a look, but from their body language, I already knew what their answer was. “Mr. Han,”

“Please, Jisung is just fine.”

“Jisung,” My mother continued in a cold tone. “We want you nowhere near our daughter. She has a bright future in front of her and you will only hinder it. You are just a constant reminder of her days prancing around on the beach. We cannot allow this relationship to continue, especially with her safety involved.”

His eyes visibly saddened and his shoulders sunk. “But-”

“If you know what’s best for you...what’s best for Y/n...you will let her go. You will walk out that door and never see her again.”

“What if I say no?”

My mother straightened her posture and smoothed out her dress. “If we find out you are seeing Y/n...we’ll withdraw her tuition payment and disown her. She’ll be kicked out onto the street. Can you live with that?”

I watched the gears turn in Jisung’s head. I wanted him to stand up and say that he didn’t care. To say that he just wanted to be with me. I would choose him in a heartbeat.

Instead, his head hung low and he ran his long fingers through his dark locks. “No, I couldn’t.”

My mother, obviously pleased, stood up a clear smile was heard in her voice. “Then your business here is done.” Jisung watched my mother move towards the entryway, clearly wearing his heart on his sleeve. He made no attempt at hiding how heartbroken he was.

“Will you at least let me say goodbye to her?” He pleaded, round doe eyes turned down and expecting a bad answer. My father sighed, before looking upstairs.

“Make it quick.”

Jisung’s head shot up, eyes filling with hope. He looked to the stairs before hesitantly walking towards them. I sprinted to my room leaving the door open just a crack. As I turned, I face-planted onto my carpet. Looking back I glared once again at the purple octopus that had caused my fall. Angrily chucking it somewhere else in the room I stood up and waited for Jisung to come in.

A hesitant knock filled my bedroom. He did not wait to enter. Jisung looked around before his eyes finally settled on me. I wasted no time in rushing to him. Wrapping my arms around his neck I crashed my lips onto his. My heart broke feeling him hold onto me so tightly. Jisung pulled away with sorrow filled eyes.

“I came to say goodbye.”

“I know. I heard everything.” Jisung rested his forehead against mine, eyes closing. “Jisung this isn’t your choice.” He shook his head still not looking at me. His lips pressed against mine softly once more.

“I’m not letting you throw away your life for me.”

“What if I want to?” Jisung looked me in the eyes. I could tell he was searching for any hesitance. “You love me.” It wasn’t a question and he knew it. Silently, he nodded still searching my face.

“Let’s run away. Screw my parents. I have enough in my savings to finish my degree.”

“Baby, I can’t do that to you. There’s no guarantee in my future. I might not be able to provide for you. I love you enough to understand that letting you go while it kills me...is what is best for you.” Our voices had moved to hushed whispers.

The back of my hand brushed over his cheek. “That’s not your decision to make.” He chuckled, still wincing a little from his healing wound. “I love you, Jisung. I’m asking you to run away with me.”

Once again I saw the gears begin to turn in his brain. He took more time thinking this through than he did downstairs. My heart hammered in my chest waiting for his answer. It stopped when his lips pressed against mine in a slow sensual kiss.

“Pack your bags,” Jisung whispered against my lips.

❖

A year had passed. My legs rested on either side of the surfboard floating on the water. The waves swayed them beneath the surface and I watched the slim form of Jisung ride a wave closer to where my board floated. I smiled watching him wipe out, disappearing beneath the blue water. Turning back, I saw the beach house on the shore, lights on, and waiting for us to return home from our sunset surf.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Jisung said popping up beside my board. His long fingers were wrapped around the tip of his own surfboard keeping it from floating away. His other arm rested on top of mine and lacing our fingers together. He smiled watching the glint on my left hand shine in the setting sun.

My eyes fell to his chest, most of it submerged. Through the water, I saw his newest tattoo and smiled. My name right over his heart. “Nice wipeout.” Jisung rolled his eyes before letting go of my hands and swimming over to his board and pushing himself up. We let the slowly decreasing waves push them next to each other, our legs brushing through the cold clear water.

“You don’t regret leaving with me do you?” Jisung asked, looking at the sunset.

I shook my head, staring at the red and orange glow of the disappearing sun. “Not one bit.” Jisung turned, grabbing my hand. With a smile, our lips connected just as the sun sunk beneath the waves. This was only the beginning of my life with Jisung.

❖

Requests are Temporarily Closed!

Masterlist

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harrysweasleys · 4 years

Text

sunflowers // h.p

Summary: Hi dear! Could you write a Harry Potter x reader? The reader has a bubbly/kind personality like Alice (Alice in wonderland) or Rapunzel (tangled) and Harry loves her company and has a crush on her? Also it would be cool if the reader is a Hufflepuff and has some sort of pet (your choice) thanks in advance and have a nice day/night!

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: this request was so so so sweet. i am not overly familiar with alice’s characters tho, so i based the reader more on rapunzel! also, for some reason, all of my harry fics start with an S. i don’t know why. anywyas, hope you enjoy! :)

——

Harry quite adored going to Care of Magical Creatures.

Yes, he liked Hagrid and enjoyed his presence and comforting mannerisms, but his mind was on something else as he strolled down to the hut for class.

You.

Harry also quite adored you.

You with your bright eyes, bubbly personality, and love for all things around you.

Harry, who was constantly checking behind his shoulder for signs of danger, admired your love for life and the way you were always eager to learn and experience things. A trait he wished he was able to share as well.

His heart stuttered in his chest as he came to the front of Hagrid’s hut and saw you. A yellow sunflower in your hair, your smile bright, and your eyes holding all signs of curiosity. Though Harry found he didn’t know much about you, he knew how much you loved all the strange creatures Hagrid showed off to the class.

Harry thought you perfectly fitted the Hufflepuff stereotype. Not that he wanted to believe in stereotypes — he often found them misleading and false — but when it came to you, he found you fit every Hufflepuff characteristic. Sweet, kind, curious, smart.

“Gather ‘round, you lot!” Hagrid waved his gigantic hands to the crowd of students, causing Harry to snap his attention away from you, “Today we’re gonna be in the forest. I’ve got a magnificent creature.”

“Hagrid’s definition of magnificent creature usually means danger,” Ron leaned over and muttered in Harry’s ear, a slight chuckle in the tone of his voice.

“Right,” Harry replied, his mind not really focused on Ron or Hagrid as he walked into the forest behind the group of students. Though he hated being distracted in class, especially when Hagrid was the one teaching it, he really couldn’t help himself.

After nearly five minutes of walking through dense bushes and towering trees, the group came to an opening of trees where sunlight streaked down and illuminated the group.

“Stay here, I’ll be righ’ back!” Hagrid grinned, taking off behind some trees, leaning the students gaping around blankly.

Harry looked over at you, your glow somehow still radiating in the thick shadow of the trees. He didn’t understand how someone could be so effortlessly beautiful.

“Mate, if you keep staring with such burning intensity she might just evaporate,” Ron leaned in and muttered in his ear, Harry’s cheeks burning at the comment.

“I’m not staring,” he defended, narrowing his eyes and trying his best to look anywhere but you.

Ron raised an eyebrow, “Right. Sure.”

But Harry chose not to answer this comment, turning back to you. And he was glad he did or else he would have missed the brilliant way your face lit up at the sight of the creature Hagrid returned with.

Large, white, horselike and covered in feathers, Harry thought it looked rather odd. But the way your face broke into a massive grin, your eyes sparkling, Harry would have thought you were looking at the most beautiful creature ever to exist.

“This is a Hippogriff, his name is Buckbeak,” Hagrid pat the large animal on the back, “Anyone wan’ to come say hello?”

Harry, too busy fighting off his blush, hadn’t noticed the entirety of the class move backwards. Well, everyone except for him and you.

“Y/N, Harry, come on forwards,” Hagrid grinned, clapping his hands together with excitement.

Harry felt his heart give a jolt as he walked towards the Hippogriff, unsure if his nerves were stemming from his close proximity to you or the large creature. He wiped his hands on his robes and tried to fix his unruly hair in the short span before he was standing next to the creature.

“Oh, Professor Hagrid, he’s beautiful,” your smooth voice complimented.

“You have to bow,” Hagrid said, “Bow and if he returns the gesture, you can approach.”

Both you and Harry obeyed, bowing low and waiting for the creature to do the same. When it did, your face broke out into a massive smile and you walked forwards, placing your hand on its side and rubbing your fingers through its massive feathers.

“Yer a natural!” Hagrid grinned at you, causing your cheeks to turn a slight shade of pink, “Go on, Harry. He won’ bite.”

Harry, too overcome with a strange sense of giddiness, raised his hand and placed it on the creature’s back, surprised at how soft it felt to the touch.

“Isn’t he gorgeous?” you asked, voice directed towards Harry.

He stuttered as he tried to find his breath, “Yeah, really is.”

Though this wasn’t his first time talking to you, he felt as nervous as he did then. His belly fluttered with butterflies and his head was fuzzy and he really wished he could push past the fact that all of his senses were betraying him by focusing on you.

“I’ve never seen a Hippogriff in person before,” you smiled, lifting your hand to pet it over it’s head, “Only in books.”

Harry nodded, “Me neither.” He wished he had the courage to actually strike up a reasonable conversation, but he couldn’t.

“Right, you two, I’ll get back to teaching,” Hagrid raised his hands, motioning for the two of you to return the rest of the group. You both complied, standing next to each other as Hagrid talked about the life of a Hippogriff.

He wasn’t paying as much attention as he should be, however, as his mind was fuzzy with how close you were standing to him. He could smell you — was it... roses? Sunflowers?

It was flowery, that’s all he could say. And it was intoxicating. Something about you reminded him of a fresh spring morning with the sun beaming down on the grass and trees. He found it rather refreshing.

Too focused on trying not to make a fool of himself, he hadn’t noticed class was over until you called his name.

“Hm?” he spun around.

“Your friends left,” you pointed to where Ron and Hermione were walking away with knowing grins.

Harry frowned, “Oh. Thanks.”

He began to walk away, a slight trudge in his step, until you caught up to him. Your hair was bouncing with every step you took and the yellow flower in your hair glowed brightly as the two of you exited the forest and stepped into the sunlight.

“We have Herbology together too,” you smiled at him, “We can walk together. Unless you want to walk alone.”

“No, we can walk together,” he replied rather quickly, sounding incredibly eager. However, he was pleased to notice you seemed oblivious to his romantic longing — your eyes were too focused on the scenery of the Hogwarts grounds.

“Always something in the fall, isn’t it?” you asked, “The colours, the smell. It’s my favorite season.”

“Hm, yeah, mine too,” Harry agreed with you, though lucky for him it was truthful. He did always enjoy the coziness that came with the autumn season.

You turned to face him, your eyebrow quirked and a smirk ghosting your lips, “You don’t say much, do you, Harry Potter?”

He was honestly caught off guard by the question, your sudden bold tone of voice rendering his mind blank as to how to answer.

“Sorry,” you giggled, “It’s fine if you don’t say much. I don’t either. Usually. But you seem like a good person to talk to.”

Harry smiled to himself, turning to face you while trying his best to hide his warm cheeks, “It’s alright. I enjoy your company.”

The walk to the Herbology greenhouse was rather silent, but Harry’s mind was swirling with all the different ways he could try and talk to you. He knew that that was why Hermione and Ron had taken off without him, but he somehow couldn’t find the guts to do it. The last thing he wanted was to look like a fool.

“Before anyone sits, we need to partner up for the class!” Professor Sprout shouted once the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors had all entered the warm room.

Harry scowled as Ron and Hermione grabbed each other’s hands and smirked at him.

“Er — Y/N, do you — want to be partners? Maybe?” Harry asked, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck.

You flashed him a breathtaking smile, “Of course! Here, let’s sit there.”

He followed you to the nearest empty desk where a strange plant sat atop.

“Oh, look at it,” you smiled, peering curiously at the plant, “So unique.”

Although Harry never really had a fascination for plants, or Herbology in particular, he found himself enjoying this class more than usual. He could hear you complimenting the strange plant multiple times as the class went on, your sparkling eyes and wide grin never faltering.

Harry had a weird déjà-vu of every conversation he’d had with Neville, who was also a Herbology enthusiast. But, he had to admit, he much rather enjoyed your rambling than Neville’s.

He was disappointed when class ended and he knew the two of you would have to go your separate ways until whenever your next shared class would be. This was the most he had ever really spoken to you and he could barely muster up the guts to have an actual conversation.

“I’ll see you around, Harry!” you waved at him as you left the class, huddled amongst a group of your house mates.

He brought up his hand, “See you!” and waved back as you took off. He watched you disappear around the bend and into the crowd heading back towards the castle.

“Oh, the look of love,” Ron pat him across the shoulder as the three of them made their way back to the castle, Hermione chuckling silently on his other side, “Young romance blossoms at the—”

“Shut up, Ron,” Harry groaned, causing his ginger friend to burst out laughing. His ears felt hot and he had a strong urge to take off without his friends, as they had just done to him.

“Talk to her outside of class, Harry,” Hermione urged, “She seems quite lovely. And interested.”

Harry scoffed, trying not to get his hopes up, “Don’t think she’s interested in me, Hermione.”

“You’ll never know unless you find out, Harry,” Ron said, his head held high.

“That’s how it works, yes,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “Just talk to her.”

——

For the rest of the day, and the next day, and the next week, Harry had become too preoccupied with Quidditch practice and homework to really focus or think about anything else. His mind was feeling constantly swamped and he barely had time to take a breather.

Which is why the first day he had nothing to do — and luckily for him, it was a Saturday so he didn’t have classes either— he decided to take a stroll throughout the castle. Rain was pouring down, therefore students were hidden away in their common rooms and dorm rooms and Harry decided he needed a moment to be alone and unwind. The stress of the upcoming Quidditch match — that Oliver Wood was not helping with — was beginning to send Harry into a bit of a frenzy. Not to mention Snape and McGonagall’s essay assignments that Hermione had refused to lend a hand with.

Harry couldn’t help but want some alone time.

He had left Ron and Hermione back in the Gryffindor tower and made his way down to the courtyard, where the heavy sound of the rain was somehow relaxing him. The dark clouds made him feel like Hogwarts was in its own little bubble outside of the world and the thought was soothing.

He began to walk around, thinking that maybe he should head back up soon, but stopped in his tracks when he found himself nearly stepping on a toad.

Harry stared at it as it sat on the stone floor, perfectly still.

“Sunnie!”

A soft voice called throughout the empty corridor, echoing over the sound of the rain. The toad let out a loud croak and the distant footsteps grew louder as the person followed the sound of it.

Before he knew it, Harry was face to face with you.

“Oh, hi Harry,” you smiled, leaning over to pick up the toad, “Sorry. Sunnie ran away.”

Harry looked at the little creature sitting in your hands, “No problem. You named it Sunnie?”

You nodded, “After my mum. Her favorite flower was a sunflower.”

All of a sudden, things clicked. This is why you always wore one in your hair, why you smelled like them — the yellow wasn’t just because you were a Hufflepuff.

Harry stared at you like an idiot, slightly captivated by your beauty and partially unsure of what else to say. For some reason, just you mentioning the fact of the sunflower made him understand you just a tad more.

“Well, thanks for helping me find her,” you raised your hand in a small salute and began to walk away.

“Wait!” Harry called out before he could think of a plan. You spun around on the spot, eyebrow raised, and Harry wanted nothing more than to disappear. He didn’t have a plan and now he was going to look like a fool.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“Er — do you want to walk together?” he asked, placing his hands in his pockets and grinning awkwardly.

However, his heart was set to ease when you nodded and bit your lip, “I’d love to.”

So the two of you walked through the halls, making small talk and laughing about random things.

Maybe one day, Harry would work up the courage to tell you. Maybe one day.

—

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#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter one shot #harry potter one shots #harry potter fic #harry potter fics #harry potter x reader #harry potter reader insert

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cloveroctobers · 3 years

Text

LEVEL 1 — Perception

A/n: to make things easier due to my hectic work schedule...I’m deciding on writing blurbs or short fics for right now, to get content out in a timely manner. I’m open to writing pairings but I notice those don’t get that much attention but I’m attempting to do so anyways...at least at the start of this series which is absolutely inspired by we’re not really strangers. I love the game, it’s very personal and intense so if you have the chance, get it if you’re open to connecting with the people you care about in a passionate way. I’ve also decided to make the characters a little bit older...college wise/around the actors ages based on these questions lol even tho these teens are already dramatic + have a lot going on.

Synopsis: a interviewer that Spencer is very familiar with, Rochelle Mosley has resurfaced to complete her senior year project at Claremont as a journalist. Rochelle is all about going big and never going home, so the first person on her list is one of the guy’s that intrigued her the most not so long ago. So she reached out to Thee Spencer James and to put the word out to anyone else that might be interested. And here we are!

::: S. James + O. Baker ::: All to me

Rochelle is seen running her finger over her pearly whites, making sure they’re squeaky clean after eating her brunch which consisted of a poached egg, an açaí bowl, served with lemon water. She already spent twenty minutes brushing her teeth and whitening them last night to prepare for this moment. She knew this idea would guarantee her nothing but a A+. She had friends from the film department around helping her with the equipment and due to this Panasonic it made things chaotic opposed to having this interview face to face.

Rochelle knew that she could have at least met with Spencer for his half but decided to do what he was comfortable with. She wouldn’t push any boundaries...yet. Regardless it would have to be a video call since Olivia attended MassArt and appeared that she would not be coming back to California any time soon, according to her insta stories that is.

Nonetheless Rochelle knew how to negotiate so here she was working on their terms. With a sigh, she straightened out her posture, fixed the waves in her hair, reapplied some matte lipstick—again, glanced around her to make sure she liked her set up and eyed her friends to make sure they were doing what they were getting paid for, and plastered on a commercial smile as she connected the video call waiting on her two guests.

It only took a minute for Spencer’s face to pop in.

“Spencer!” Rochelle greeted which he replied with slight raised brows and a smile at her volume, “so glad you can be here and punctual at that.”

Spencer answered, “well you know, if I agreed to be something I don’t want to waste anybody’s time ya know?”

“Always the wise one aren’t you?” Rochelle commented before continuing on, “how are things? How is UCLA?”

“I really like it here, uh. I’m almost done with my sophomore year, but with the way things are looking right now? Might have to switch to remote this spring semester...we’re all basically on standby at the moment. It’s crazy times but we gon’ get through it, I know it.” Spencer chatted with ease.

Rochelle was multitasking looking to the side at her phone to keep track of time. Olivia Baker was five minutes late now, which was slowly working Rochelle’s nerves. The girl had her number and although they didn’t talk much through texts or through anything really, it was common courtesy to let someone know if you were going to be late or couldn’t make it.

“Yes! We have to keep a optimistic attitude as best as we can. I hope you’re being safe out there?” Rochelle met Spencer’s eyes, after silently debating if she should send Miss. Olivia a text.

Spencer dipped his head, “absolutely. And yourself?”

“Oh yes, honey. This thing is ruining lives unexpectedly but it’s insane to me that people believe this isn’t real. It’s the denial for me. Especially here in California! Then when they catch it, it’s suddenly a different tune. Sure the numbers might be a little questionable but not too much is a lie. Read the facts, do the research. But—

Olivia showed up. Eight minutes later...

Rochelle forced a smile, “Olivia Baker! How nice of you to join us.”

“I know, I know. I’m super late and I’m sure you don’t want to hear the excuses so let’s just dive right into this social experiment project thing you have going on. Sorry by the way.” Olivia rambled which Spencer chuckled at.

Olivia paused, “hey, Spencer.”

“Hey, Liv.”

Rochelle picked up on the chemistry or tension or whatever you want to name it. It was all still there and oh so fresh. She knew this would be good and knew they had to be the first on her list. Sure Rochelle maybe a year or two older than these two but she also had friends that were younger and gossipers like her so she always had the inside scoop when she needed it. So yes, she knew all about spelivia.

“How’s Boston?” Rochelle asked politely, breaking the two’s stare contest.

Olivia inhaled, “it’s better than California, that’s for sure. It feels like I’m getting a fresh new start and it’s just what I needed.”

“Yeah i see you’re at your best there. You seem to be thriving.”

“well yeah, because it’s new. Sometimes you need to get away, I mean I’ve been in California for eighteen years of my life. I always knew I wanted to be somewhere else...don’t get me wrong, California is still very much my home.”

Nice save there, Olivia.

Rochelle clasped her hands together with a wide smile after a small silence filled the air after Olivia’s statement.

“Moving right along, I’ve sent the both of you a series of questions that you both should have received correct?”

Spencer pulled the padded envelope from the side and waved it in front of camera. Rochelle smiled at how organized this guy was and shifted her glance to Olivia who widened her doe brown eyes.

“Ah, yeah I’ve got that. It should be around here somewhere? Hopefully. If it’s not then it’s definitely in the car.” Olivia pointed.

Rochelle sighed, “very well. Please proceed on retrieving the envelope, it’s crucial to this interview.”

Olivia scooted back from the desk and held up a finger as she disappeared from the screen. Rochelle turned back to the brown boy who was toying with the tan object.

“Have you read any of the questions, Spencer James?”

“I really haven’t had the time to, no.”

“Great!” Rochelle quipped, “this will make this experience truly authentic.”

Spencer thought about what was said, wondering where this would get him. He understood what Rochelle informed him in the email and she answered all of his questions. He knew this wouldn’t strictly be about him and Olivia since he invited his friends along for the ride as well.

“Please open the envelope as we wait on Olivia. BUT only read the first question on the first card, we don’t want you to get too far ahead of yourself since that wouldn’t be fair to Olivia.” Rochelle instructed while Spencer took a small inhale before doing so.

Spencer read over the card, his eyes flying over the words as he read them pretty quickly. He hummed at that which Rochelle began to question him on but Olivia announced her presence.

“I’ve got it!” She let out in a sang-song voice.

“Olivia, please open the envelope but only read your first card’s question. Spencer has already done so while we were waiting for you,” Rochelle instructed before turning back to the sophomore, “Spencer, whenever you’re ready please read the question and answer.”

How would the person closest to you describe you in three words?

Olivia halted as she pulled out her own card as Spencer showed the card while reading it from the side.

“I’d think they would say I’m...compassionate, hardworking, and...loving?” Spencer announced, taking his time on thinking that over.

It was Rochelle’s turn to hum as she asked, “Do you agree with his choices, Olivia?”

Olivia was confused. “W-what?”

“Would you say Spencer is: compassionate, hardworking, and loving?”

Olivia quickly recovered, “we don’t know if Spencer is referring to me on that question.”

“Spencer, when answering this question who are you saying is the closet person to you?”

“I—uh—I consider a handful of people that are close to me.” Spencer expressed, “but I’d be lying if I didn’t say Olivia isn’t the first person that came to mind. Even though there’s a shift right now in our...relationship due to the distance—among other things...we’re still the closest and that speaks for itself.”

Rochelle gave a smug smile as she looked at Olivia who opened and closed her mouth. Before Rochelle could encourage Olivia to read her question, she already went forth after clearing her throat a few times.

What reality show do you think I’m most likely to binge watch? Explain.

Olivia peered up at Spencer.

“Oh? I’m supposed to answer this about her now? Aight. Lemme see...i don’t know you seem to find a lot of free time to watch things...maybe it’s a film major thing? Months ago you were watching ‘I love New York, then you told me you and Simone were watching ��Love is Blind’ or—

“It was actually ‘married at first sight’.” Olivia cut in.

Spencer widened his eyes and pointed at the screen with a small laugh, “that makes sense.”

“Why?” Rochelle wanted to know.

Spencer’s answer was firm, “that’s not our business to tell.”

Rochelle scribbled a quick note on that, ruling these two out on that question to ask later. She made sure to circle Simone’s name and put a question mark next to it.

“To answer your previous question,” Spencer redirected the interview back, “since a lot of these were love reality shows...I know that’s not the only genre you watch and you listen to a lot of podcasts. So I’m gonna say this show called, ‘alone.’”

Olivia blinked.

Rochelle waved her hands as she signaled for one of her friends to find the show on the laptop they were on, “have you watched this show, Spencer? And please elaborate on why you chose this show for Olivia?”

“No I haven’t. I only saw the trailer for it randomly when I was on YouTube watching lebron’s greatest moments clips.” Spencer replied earning a snort from Olivia and a eye-roll from Rochelle, “I picked that show because Liv feels that way, always. Like she’s never been seen before, truly seen. And this show tests these guys to survive on their own in the wilderness, putting not only their bodies but their minds through a lot. It’s mainly about survival that much I gained from the trailer. Liv’s always been a loner for as long as I’ve known her and feels that’s how she knows how to survive by doing it all on her own when she doesn’t have to. I see that and I understood that from my first day at Beverly.”

...

#all american #spelivia #Spencer James #Olivia Baker #all american cw #spencer x olivia

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obsessivelycapricious · 3 years

Note

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

Helloo! Thank you for this message, I've sat on it for a few days so I could answer it properly!

I've got this idea for a reader insert/ oc insert DC fic. It's too cliché for me to ever write it tbh. It's kinda a slice of life idea where it's just daily regular life in Gotham really though it'll probably morph into a Jason Todd x yn fic because I'm a simp for him rn. I just really like the idea of a gothamite going about their daily business and having random casual encounters with DC's main characters and being unawares or whatever about it. I feel like there might have been some fanfics that have influenced the idea but honestly I've read that many they all kind of blend into one.

(coffee shop reader insert au anyone? Seriously if there's a fic like that out there hmu, PLEASE.)

So yea anyway, this idea is about an art teacher. This is our (Y/N).

She works part time in Gotham City High School and loves her job. This turns into a bit of a Damian Wayne fic for a while because she's his art teacher and every other teacher in the faculty is having a really hard time dealing with Damian, but she has no idea what they're talking about?? Because sure when it comes to interacting with his peers in class, there's been a few outbursts but he pays attention in class and his work is excellent. She doesn't get the snipping comments and the constant stream of criticism that the other teachers seem to be getting. She just shrugs it off as that she's doing her job and that he's comfortable in class.

So it's like the day before Parents evening and Damian asks if she will speak to his father when he visits his teachers, she was already planning on it, but she agrees anyways.

So when Bruce ends up in her classroom, he's already pretty fed up, he's had some less than stellar reports from his other teachers and he knows Damian is having a hard time adjusting since he came to live with him but he isn't sure what the right thing is to do. He's considering stopping Damian from being Robin but that seems to be one of the only outlets that works for him, so he is hesitant to take it away.

So Y/N meets with him and says - well actually, Mr Wayne, Damian is making excellent progress in my class. He shows a real aptitude and respect for the topics we study and his own projects, both assigned and extra credit show a real dedication to the subject. Honestly, he's a pleasure to have in class.

Bruce goes away thinking hard about it all and being Bruce, he does a background check on her and finds out she is also a qualified art therapist. Long story short, he ends up hiring her to do personal tutoring sessions at Wayne Manor. The ethics of this as a teacher is a liiiil sketchy but lets just suspend our disbelief for the sake of fiction.

Then comes a little montage of her working with Damian in the manor. There's a couple of emotional outbursts at first where Damian doesn't want to think about his feelings and would much rather be given assignments and tasks like in school, so she uses that to formulate her approach. She also sometimes paints along side him so there's less pressure. Damian is adament that no one else is allowed to see his paintings and she actually tells one of his brothers off for prying one time when they are having a break. She also sees and hears things around that manor that dont always add up but she stays professional and so long as damian is safe she minds her own business. Damian reaches some kind of personal breakthrough and Bruce can see him settling down in the house more and things seem good. He still keeps her on for lessons tho cause why ruin a good thing?

So here's where i'm thinking it could be a soulmate au. I'm a sucker for these and there isn't enough imo. I'm thinking that the identifying marks on her are something super generic and boring like "Oh, sorry." So when she overhears Jason referring to Damian as a Brat, she tells him off. He says "Oh, sorry" and walks away but he has what she said word for word on him. And he's a lil emotionally constipated resurrected dude so he does not engage.

Though he does start following her Uber home, just to make sure she gets home okay.

So after this point for me the ending gets a little fuzzy. I'm thinking highlights of it could include:

being invited to a Wayne charity gala (because I really wanna go to one of those just cause)

Bruce investing money into art therapy charities

Damian threatening Jason telling him to leave her alone. Lil jealous nugget.

Jason finally trying to flirt with her only for her to remind him that she has a professional working relationship with the family and it would be amiss of her to entertain him. ouch.

the obligatory red hood saving her from a mugging scene

her finding out that Damian is robin and Bruce is batman and Tim is, and jfc this family.

Finding out Jason's has her words

Some mushy ending where it's all gravy and you skip off into the sunset together.

Told you I hadn't thought it through.

But heh yeah, there you go. A WIP that isn't a WIP that I'll probably never write. If anyone wants to run with it, just be sure to tag me in it!

#Damian wayne #jason todd #y/n #jason todd x y/n #fic ramble #badly written #answered #thank you friend #ask game #anonymous

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order-of-river-phoenix · 3 years

Note

I could use a good story. Can i ask for a little nix fic? Maybe one where his gf thinks hes cheating cuz hes been avoiding her but really hes super nervous about proposing to her?

Not According To Plan; Lewis Nixon

Fandom: HBO War; Band of Brothers

A/N: not me coming back from the dead with a 1K+ word imagine oop- anyway... My inspiration to write has been negative lately so I wrote this over the course of a couple weeks, and I’m so sorry this took so long! I hope you like it tho. Also, Y/N/N = your nickname

Warnings: none :) but it gets a lil sketchy on the angst front; FEMALE reader

Taglist: @liebegott @stressedinadress @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @teenmagazines @hbohmygodx @meteora-fc @punkgeekchic @vintagelavenderskies @hoosiers-hoe @mavysnavy @inglourious-imagines @warrior-healer @alienoresimagines @hannahbear1 @easy-company-tradition @wexhappyxfew

(Let me know if you either want to be taken off/added to the taglist; also let me know if you’ve changed your url so that I can be sure I’m tagging you)

__________

"I was thinking dinner," you said into the receiver. "And possibly a walk?"

"I'd love to, Y/N/N..." Lewis started.

You held your breath for the-

"But I'm busy tonight. I've got some things to finish up. How's tomorrow?"

"I've got work tomorrow," you reminded him, hoping he might give in.

"Right." He breathed a curse just barely audible. "I'll make it up to you, alright? Next day you don't work."

You sighed, realizing he was dead set in his own plans for the evening. The romantic urges that had been tugging at your heart began to gain some slack. "Alright. I'll see you then."

The next date was a spontaneous visit to his house with food.

"Y/N," he stammered, surprised by your appearance at his door. He kissed you in greeting before letting you in. "I wasn't expecting you."

"I missed you," you pouted, holding out the bags of food you were carrying. "I brought lunch, so you can't tell me to leave because I know you haven't made anything to eat."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you." He took the bags from you and into the kitchen.

"More than one I hope," you scoffed.

He gave you a sly smirk and was about to say something else just as the phone rang, cutting him off. "I'll be right back." He kissed you before leaving the kitchen to answer the phone in the hall.

Taking the moment of his preoccupation to plate the food, you hummed to yourself as you scooped green beans onto two plates.

"Listen, not now," Lew's voice carried in from the hall. "This isn't a good time. I'll call you back later. Alright, bye."

His tone concerned you, but you weren't going to grill him. If he wanted you to know what it was about, he'd tell you.

Incidentally, he did not want to divulge because when he reappeared in the kitchen, he wore an unreadable expression but made no mention of the short-lived conversation he just had. "Lunch looks great, sweetheart." A smile stretched across his face and you momentarily forgot about what you had heard. "Don't skimp me on those potatoes."

__________

Another cancelled date. It was just supposed to be a night out to the movies, but Lew had called to say he needed to stay late at work.

"Babe, I'm sorry," he apologized.

"It's fine," you assured him, though once again, you felt yourself deflate. "You don't need to apologize for being busy. I get it. Don't work too hard, alright?"

"Next time," he said, "I promise."

"I love you. Be safe getting home."

"I love you too, Y/N/N." He waited for you to hang up before letting out an anxious breath. The idea of lying to you made his skin itch, and he was burning right now. He ran a hand over his face and got up from his desk.

"I didn't know you were staying late," Delia, the secretary, commented seeming to have appeared out of nowhere. "Is there some new project you're working on?"

Momentarily startled by her sudden presence, Lew shook his head. "I'm not staying late." He got up from his desk and grabbed his coat. "In fact, I'm leaving now. I've got reservations to make."

"But you just..." her voice trailed off just as her eyes widened. "Sir, not to pry, but does this have anything to do with the thing that I definitely did not see on your desk a while back?"

"Yes," he replied, slipping his arms into the coat.

Her jaw dropped. "Does Dick know?"

The look he gave her made her facepalm.

"What am I saying? Of course, Dick knows."

"Delia, I really do have to go," he reminded her. He stopped for a moment. "Please don't mention this to anyone."

"Mum's the word," she promised as he rushed out.

__________

It had been over a week since you had spent any real time with your boyfriend, and you were growing more nervous and self-conscious by the day. There were thoughts that you couldn't help but entertain, even against your better judgement. As much as you wanted to push these thoughts away, they gnawed at the pit of your stomach at any given moment.

But out of the blue, Lew called.

"I know you don't work today—I called and checked—so I'll be over in half an hour to come get you. I figured I still owe you that dinner and walk."

As happy as you were to accept, your anxiety grew as you got yourself ready. You shed a few stray tears but primarily held yourself together. Your thoughts persisted as you heard the knock at the door.

“How’s my best girl?”

You offered him a tight smile. “You mind stepping in a minute? I’m not quite ready to go.”

He followed you back into the living room of your small apartment.

Trying not to choke on your words, you finally managed to spit it out. "Why have you been avoiding me?" You feared the answer, and the look on his face didn't ease your anxiety.

"Avoiding you? Have I been..." His voice trailed off as he noticed the hurt you were trying to conceal. He closed his eyes, releasing a breath. "I'm so sorry."

"I want you to be honest with me, Lewis." Your expression hardened at the sound of what you thought was a confession. "Are you seeing someone else?"

He blinked incredulously at you before sputtering out, "What? You're joking right?" He wanted to laugh, but he knew it wasn't the time. Instead he pulled you into his chest, tucking your head under his chin. "In retrospect, I see how you could have thought that, but I swear that's not it."

You pried free from his embrace, still not entirely convinced. "Then why the secrecy? Why the phone calls and late nights and cancelled plans?"

"There goes my surprise," he mumbled. He sighed before lightly sitting on the edge of the couch, beckoning you to join him. When you did, he looked pleadingly into your eyes. "I was... dammit. I was so nervous about asking you, and I guess subconsciously I avoided you to keep from doing it too early."

"Doing what?" It came out harsher than you had intended, but your patience was wearing thin. "What were you going to ask me?" The vaguest idea of what it could be formed in the back of your mind, but your skepticism was refusing to let it grow.

"I wanted to propose," he admitted gently. "I had the perfect spot picked out. Dick helped me practice the speech I was going to give leading up to it down pat. I've had the ring for... a while. But every chance I had to move in the right direction, I got scared."

That little inkling that had formed was yelling "Told you so!" And you felt your heart melt immediately. "You were going to propose to me?"

He nodded, suddenly looking more nervous than you'd ever seen him. "Would you say yes?"

You raised your eyebrows. "Are you asking?"

He gave you a sideways glance before moving from his place on the coach to bended knee in front of you. "Y/N, will you marry me?"

"Absolutely," you practically gushed. Even expecting it, your heart raced at the sound of the words. You flung your arms around him, pulling him close. “I’m so sorry for-“

“Shhh...” he coaxed, rubbing your back. “Don’t apologize, baby. Let this be a happy moment.” He loosened himself from your embrace to look at you. “I just want you to be happy.”

“If I get to be with you for the rest of my life, then I’ll be happier than I’ve ever been.”

#band of brothers #mariah writes: band of brothers #lewis nixon #lewis nixon x reader #band of brothers imagine

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queenangst · 4 years

Text

A Collection of Fic Prompts

These are all genfic/non-romantic fic ideas that I (and some of my friends) came up with in a game where I write a summary for a fake fic title. Some titles have multiple summaries. You can view my tag ‘fake fic asks’ to view the original asks.

My blanket permissions for prompts apply: Please credit and link me on Tumblr (@queenangst)/on AO3 (achievingelysium). If possible, link to this post/original post. Feel free to use these as prompts or inspiration for any creative work such as fic or art, and feel free to adjust or adapt them to your liking. I’d love to see them!

Please reblog if you like these!

I may end up using some of these in the future (marked with * if you’re interested), but all of the prompts are free for you to use if you’re interested.

Below the cut is a categorized list of the summaries, by characters/themes, including:

All Might, Izuku, OFA, and AFO

Midoriya Hisashi/Dad for One

Shimura Nana

Quirklessness

Aizawa, Present Mic, and Shirakumo

Teachers

Dekusquad

Izuku & Bakugou

Izuku

Bakugou

Todoroki Family/Dabi

Eri

Class 1-A

Misc.

All Might, Izuku, OFA, and AFO

Once Upon a Time

Quirk reversal canon rewrite AU. All Might is a hero with a mysterious Quirk: one that can take and give away Quirks at will. With this Quirk and multiple Quirks given willingly, All Might defeats villains easily. When he meets the strong-willed Midoriya Izuku, he offers Izuku a Quirk and a chance to be a hero.

One for All has been searching for a successor—and his brother’s Quirk, All for One—and finds one in the volatile Shimura Tenko, now Shigaraki. Combined with the power of Decay, Shigaraki’s new Quirk can level mountains and destroy cities.

Izuku has always wanted to be a hero. With a new Quirk and a new enemy, he can be.

Shatter the Sun

All Might walks into a fight he doesn’t expect to come back from. Fueled by rage and grief, he ignores every warning Nighteye has given him and takes down the villain who killed his predecessor… All for One.

All Might limps out of a fight he hadn’t expected to come back from. He defeated his enemy, but it comes with a cost.

And then he wakes up again on the same day, All for One still waiting for him. Each time All Might defeats him. Each time the day restarts. Again and again. All Might had been prepared to fight All for One for the rest of his life, but this is something entirely different.

i’ve been found (but i’m still lost in the morning)

When Toshinori passes on the torch to his successor, he only wishes Nana were there to see it. When Izuku begins dreaming of the past wielders, he begins to feel the weight of the legacy he carries on.

All for One may be gone, but in the wake of his defeat, both Izuku and Toshinori struggle to find their place in heroism and at home.

Cross the Delta

All Might takes Izuku on a road trip in America, and their relationship deepens from mentor and student to father and son.

if only you'd listened

When Izuku complains of headaches and strange dreams, Toshinori doesn’t think much of it beyond offering what comfort he can and painkillers. After all, it’s exam season, and his students are stressed; the common room is loaded with energy drinks and textbooks alike. Izuku also confides he thinks there’s something wrong with his Quirk, but having unlocked two more, Toshinori is under the belief Izuku is simply adjusting.

Then Izuku starts sleepwalking, sometimes with One for All. And there’s the time he almost doesn’t wake up at all, and when he finally wakes up he doesn’t seem like he has control of himself.

Because the closer Izuku has been getting to One for All, a connection has been forming with its other half—with Toshinori’s greatest enemy, All for One.

kiss your fist and touch the sky

After his retirement, All Might is no longer the hero he used to be. But Class 1-A still seems to think so, and quietly All Might begins to learn how to save people in smaller ways.

lead me down the styx

OFA!AU. When Nana dies, a piece of her remains within One for All—just as the other holders have before her. Every time a holder comes close to death, they see their predecessors.

All Might sees his mentor again in dreams a few times, but he thinks they’re just that: dreams. The first time Izuku sees the ghosts of One for All, he’s just nearly broken himself beyond repair. The next time is when he takes a hit meant for someone else. After the next Izuku realizes there’s a pattern, that the ghosts he sees out of the corner of his eye are real and getting stronger, and there’s something they want to tell him.

I Have No Plans to Die Today

Alternating POV. Half is All Might desperately trying to hold on to the remains of OFA as he fights AFO because after all these years he finally has things to live for again. Half is Bakugou trying to escape his captors, not knowing if anyone’s going to rescue him, equally desperate to fulfill his dream of becoming a Hero (from @happi-tree).

Your Heart In Your Hands

In a world where every year on the day you first meet you see a vision of you and your soulmate’s future together, Izuku and All Might meet under a bridge—and Izuku begins to see a future where he can be a hero.

Bonus notes from my tags: #pl bkdk soulmates bk was scared of the future #tho the future vision is limited i think so bkdk doesnt see anything after ua until after dk meets am #bc that future wasnt quite set in stone

The Aftermath

All Might wakes up in a hospital alone. He has lost his stomach, though perhaps more painfully, his most trusted advisor and sidekick. He has nothing, and no one. And his time with One for All dwindles.

But he keeps going—and meets one Midoriya Izuku.

A story told backwards in six parts, from loving Izuku to meeting him to those lonely years before.

Once Upon a Time

Fantasy AU. The Tale of Two Brothers is known throughout the kingdom, a myth passed down through the generations to explain why Magicks exist. No one expects the story itself to be true, least of all a young Magickless boy on the run from his tormentors. But now? Well, now, Midoriya Izuku knows differently (from @happi-tree).

Midoriya Hisashi/Dad for One

But That Was So Long Ago*

Time can’t erase an absence, a person who was never there. Ten years after Midoriya Hisashi goes overseas for business, he re-enters Izuku’s life—not just as a father, but as a vigilante, chasing a lead for a villain with connections to the League. Working with Hellhound, who can manipulate fire and smoke, Izuku begins to notice his new ally’s strange similarities to the father he’s constantly arguing with at home.

You know what family means to me, Hisashi? Resentment

Midoriya Hisashi drags his son Izuku on a short surprise trip to America, where Izuku is separated from his friends as Hisashi teaches him about his business. Izuku is left miserable and angry about the life Hisashi is trying to force him into. What’s meant to be family bonding and their already fragile relationship quickly falls apart, and all Izuku wants is to go home.

Eternal Slumber

In his second year, Izuku and All for One begin to share dreams. Izuku’s afraid All for One is both the person he thought and not, and they seem to share more similarities than Izuku expected.

A Dad For One fic.

In the Flesh*

Right after Izuku enters U.A., Midoriya Hisashi abruptly returns from business overseas, taking an interest in his son’s new Quirk and committing himself to his family again after years apart. Izuku feels uncomfortable with the stranger he calls “Dad,” but stays quiet seeing how happy his mom is when he’s home.

Yet as the school year progresses, Hisashi’s story seems to have different holes. Research into his dad’s business leaves Izuku with dead, outdated links; any questions Izuku asks about work go unanswered; and still Hisashi presses Izuku about his Quirk, driving a wedge between them.

Hisashi’s Quirk is fire breathing—but Izuku accidentally discovers he has a levitation Quirk, too, and more after that. A breakthrough in research connects Hisashi to the address of an old, run-down bar. And a story Izuku’s mentor All Might tells him, of a villain who can take other people’s Quirks, leads Izuku home again, to one Midoriya Hisashi.

Shimura Nana

Oddity Amidst Time

Shigaraki travels back in time and meets his grandmother, Shimura Nana.

Remembrance

Nana’s legacy is a line of death that becomes before her and goes on after her. But what if things were different?

When Nana fights All for One, she wins. Still, the danger of All for One’s lasting influence remains, so Nana makes the decision to leave her son alone as she continues to fight villains and train Toshinori into the Symbol of Peace he wants to be.

Kotaro is the only regret Nana’s ever had. She spends her days wondering what might have been until she meets two siblings who share her smile—and her last name.

if i die young

At the end of his life, Gran Torino gets a chance to travel back in time to when Nana still lived, and the two of them have a conversation about life and loss.

Quirklessness

Out of the Fire

Izuku reflects on how many micro aggressions he dealt with as a quirkless person that evaporated with OFA (from @wildinkling).

You get used to things, even if sometimes you shouldn't

All Might has carried One for All for a lifetime, and he’s nearly forgotten what it was like to be Quirkless, much less understanding how different Quirklessness is treated in society today. After Izuku confides about what his childhood was like and now navigating life after being a pro hero, All Might begins to spend more time looking for ways to help Quirkless youth feel less alone, fighting a villain of a different kind.

Do Not Go Gentle*

When pro hero—and Eri’s big brother—Deku saves her and sustains life-threatening injuries, Eri does the only thing she can think of. In desperation, she pushes her power and rewinds him, leaving Deku not only young but Quirkless again.

For Years I Have

Midoriya Inko, and coming to terms with a not-Quirkless son, her love and fears for him, and the mistakes she’s made.

Battles are First Lost in the Mind

At fourteen, Midoriya Izuku gives up on his dream of being a hero. He puts away his notebooks and resigns himself to a quiet, Quirkless life.

Four years later and as a new graduate from U.A., Kacchan swallows his pride, apologizes, and asks Izuku for help taking down the villain Shigaraki, hoping Izuku’s analytical skills can turn the tide.

Izuku isn’t sure, but in the end agrees; and four years after giving up he’s presented with his dreams in reach and an entire former class telling him he can be a hero.

changing the subject again and bite your tongue (until it bleeds)*

Midoriya Izuku never talks about being Quirkless, or about Quirklessness. No one would understand it. No one wants to try. The topic rarely comes up, until a new semester begins and there’s talk of a new, Quirkless student in Gen Ed looking to transfer into the Hero Course.

Then Quirklessness is all anyone wants to talk about. Now something Izuku can’t avoid, he struggles to deal with his own past, the piece of his trust he hasn’t extended to his friends, and a look into a life that might have been his.

Aizawa, Present Mic, and Shirakumo

when there’s blood in my ears, i’ll hold you closer

Present Mic had always had a rough time controlling his quirk. The day he finds out about Oboro, he slips. Aizawa is always there to comfort him (from @tolerantbean).

It’s getting hard to breathe under here with you, my dearest nemesis

The villain Present Mic has a Quirk that could level buildings and cause a lot of destruction. The hero Eraserhead is one of the few people, if not the only person, who can stop him.

At the end of the day, Hizashi and Shouta are best friends, carefully tending to each other’s wounds and never speaking of either heroes or villains. Until a bigger problem forces them to work together.

an empty mirror only shows what's left inside*

Time loop AU. A few days after Shirakumo’s death, Shouta wakes up to find his best friend is alive again. Time has reset—and now Shouta finds himself racing to save Shirakumo this time.

It doesn’t work. Days pass. And the loop starts again.

A mystery forms in the pieces of a strange doctor, a missing body, and discrepancies in the local newspaper. As Shouta fails again and again to save Shirakumo, he must try to figure out why he’s caught in a time loop… and what seems to be happening to Shirakumo after his death.

Come Around (Your Song is Calling)

Hizashi has always known that he and his best friend Shouta are soulmates. It’s why they work. It’s why Hizashi can see the glittering thread that ties them together when no one else can, and in the deep silence when he touches it he hears music.

Shouta goes missing. The bond goes silent. But Hizashi refuses to give up on his friend—not now, and not ever.

shades of blue*

After graduating, Aizawa Shouta isn’t where he wants to be. His decision to go underground is a lot different than most of his peers, and with everyone busy planning debuts and looking for agencies, Shouta feels isolated. The reminder that Oboro doesn’t get to be a hero follows him, yet at the same time the Hero Commission sends Shouta somewhere his Quirk and his youth will be useful—to help infiltrate and take down an illegal Quirk fighting ring.

Unable to confide in Hizashi about the mission or his struggles, Shouta continues to work alone, distance straining his relationships. Pitted against kids only a few years younger than him, each of whom begins to remind Shouta of Oboro, and fighting to keep his head above water, Shouta must keep his secrets close to him or lose it all.

they’ll think of me kindly

It’s easier to think of society in black in white, in heroes and villains. But Aizawa Shouta doesn’t do easy, and Kurogiri—Shirakumo Oboro—certainly isn’t making things any better. In a bid for information and to return Kurogiri to the person he once was, the investigation team brings in a specialist with a Quirk that allows for two people to be temporarily joined mind-to-mind. To experience each other’s thoughts, emotions, and memories with the danger of losing themselves.

Shouta’s scared if he goes in he won’t come back, but he’s also desperate to reconnect with the friend he’s convinced is still in there. Kurogiri consents to the connection. And after deliberation, Shouta does, too.

Together, they’re not just hero and villain, but somewhere in between as Shouta looks for the memories that have been hidden from Kurogiri and relives a few of his own.

Teachers

to die like a martyr (is no way to live)

All Might is beginning to learn to live again, redefining a path of self-destruction after retirement and meeting Midoriya, when he sees his co-worker and friend Aizawa heading down the same lonely path he was on. Reaching out, All Might and Aizawa form a friendship and struggle together so they may continue to teach their students, and to live as people and not just heroes.

Dekusquad

holding you up (while the world crashes down)

Five times Izuku comforted his friends, and one time they comforted him.

Izuku & Bakugou/Platonic BKDK

Do No Harm

Bakugou goes missing when he’s seven. Years later, Izuku still believes he’s alive and out there.

He is—as a Nomu that falters when Izuku recognizes him and calls him “Kacchan.”

for you know my demons, and i know yours*

Izuku and Katsuki parted ways after a mission gone south a long time ago and their relationship soured, but that doesn’t mean that they’re not still drift compatible. A Pacific Rim AU.

let’s start with the past in front

Pro heroes Ground Zero and Deku are sent back in time to when they weren’t the friends they are now, forced to deal with conversations they never had, their younger selves’ broken relationship, while looking for a way home.

Memories of the Dead

Midoriya Izuku’s funeral is held in the summer. They bury an empty casket and look around at all the faces who have outlived him.

Katsuki goes. There’s a lot of reasons he attends Deku’s funeral—for Auntie Inko, for All Might, for Deku himself. Katsuki was the last to see him alive. They’d shared breakfast the same day Deku disappeared.

But Katsuki doesn’t go to Deku’s funeral because he’s dead. Katsuki goes with the hope and gut feeling that he’s alive.

Izuku

Your Claws Rend Flesh

Midoriya Izuku has never been allowed to stay out past sundown. He always comes home early to his mother, the only person who he won’t hurt when he transforms into a monstrous beast.

His new Quirk and U.A. complicate things, to say the least.

Bonus notes: There’s a reason why Inko is so protective of her son, and resistant to him being a hero.

can you hear me?

Izuku, a few years after his pro hero debut, lands himself an injury that keeps from work for a while. Seeing Izuku unsure of what to do, the Wild, Wild Pussycats invite him to spend summer on their property in the woods to recover and recuperate; and, of course, as an excuse for Kouta to see his hero.

He’s happy to slow down, spending time learning to take care of himself, and to enjoy the woods. As he gets his strength back, he hikes often with Kouta, until one day they’re separated when a storm hits. With only a set of walkie talkies connecting them, the two struggle to find each other and shelter, before anything worse happens.

5% luck, 20% skill

Principal Nezu takes on Izuku as a student.

Bakugou

Out of the Fire

Bakugou as Gordon Ramsey... (from @aizawa-wears-crocs).

Snap

Katsuki is hit with a Quirk that dulls physical and emotional feelings. At first it seems fairly harmless to his friends, until he gets hurt and his reaction is much different than anyone expects.

lead me down the road less traveled

When he’s young, Bakugou Katsuki decides what he wants to be when he grows up: a villain.

And Katsuki always gets what he wants.

Todoroki Family

the dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had

There’s a ghost haunting the Todoroki mansion. Rumors say it drove Todoroki Rei insane. Shouto has never seen it himself, has only heard footsteps in the hallway sometimes, but one day he discovers the stories are true—and the ghost is someone he knows, his own brother.

The Fire Within You

Scared of the Quirk he’s inherited from his father, Midoriya Izuku runs away from home after a terrible accident. And though the police and his mother search desperately for Izuku, someone else has found him first - an older, scrappy boy whose Quirk is similar to his own. Dabi takes Izuku under his wing, and their meeting lights a fire that may never have started otherwise.

violets are blue | blood is red

Todoroki Rei has been receiving flowers from her husband. At least, that’s what Shouto believes until she goes missing. The key he has to find her is the blue flowers on her windowsill and a tenuous connection to a villain: Dabi, whose motives remain unclear yet who seems to have a particular grudge against the number one hero.

Arsonist's Lullaby

Here is one secret few people know about the Todoroki family: Todoroki Natsuo is Quirkless. He had no power over fire nor ice, and his father never speaks of his Quirkless son—or his dead one.

Studying health and welfare, Natsuo keeps his head down and his anger simmering. He’s no hero like Shouto. Without a Quirk and with too much resentment, Natsuo has never considered the life of heroics or anything related to it—that is, until a strange encounter where bleeding, dangerous villain Dabi asks Natsuo for his help.

Natsuo doesn’t know why he helps Dabi, nor does he understand why Dabi doesn’t seem to want to hurt him. But one encounter with the villain turns into more, until Natsuo realizes one day he understands Dabi better than his own father Endeavor. He doesn’t get why Dabi cares so much or why he feels safe around him. When Dabi offers to help Natsuo leave his life behind, Natsuo is faced with a choice… and his own family.

When the Glitter Fades

When Todoroki Shouto is hit by a mysterious Quirk, he drops, unconscious. Though his friends worry, there seem to be no visible effects. No damage. Nothing wrong.

But as the days pass, Todoroki just… doesn’t wake up. He’s caught in a neverending dream that shows him his own deep desires—his family, whole again and happy. And he doesn’t want to leave.

Digging Dreams Out of the Fire

Moments of recovery between Todoroki Rei and her son Shouto.

Eri

when there’s blood in my ears, i’ll hold you closer*

Even after Overhaul’s defeat, there are still villains looking for more Quirk-erasing bullets, and for the girl they come from. When Eri is nearly kidnapped, Aizawa makes the difficult decision to take Eri temporarily into hiding with him. But their safe houses aren’t as safe as they’re supposed to be either, and Aizawa begins to suspect that the Hero Commission has reasons to want Eri, too.

take your medicine

Aizawa Eri did not like doctors. This was a fact. Eri had also never received proper vaccinations in her very short life. Luckily, her big brothers Mirio and Deku are there to hold her hand, even as she begins to spiral in the waiting room (from @happi-tree).

Other Characters of Class 1-A

Now You Don’t

Traitor!Hagakure AU. Class 1-A deals with their friend Hagakure’s mysterious disappearance, sharing their favorite stories of her and hoping for her safety as the search parties continue to come back empty-handed. Meanwhile, Tooru contemplates if going to the League was the correct decision - or if her new Sensei only sees her as another tool (from @happi-tree).

My Grand Plan

Hagakure Toru is surprised in her second year when she’s approached by a support and hero management firm that promises they will make people pay attention to her, but soon she accepts the offer to work together. But soon Toru realizes the firm’s support gear, plans, and inviting environment seems to cover something suspicious. And when they ask Toru for more information about her classmates and school, she begins to wonder if the support is for heroes or for villains.

visual (invisible)

Toru’s internship is drawing to an end, and though she’s grateful for the experience, she’s glad to be heading back to normal with classes and lunch with her friends without looking over her shoulder all the time. Not that anyone sees her, anyway, if she doesn’t want them to.

On her last day, she takes a bullet to the shoulder, and that’s when things fall apart.

They can see her. Toru’s friends, her classmates, her teachers: they can see her. It’s Toru’s childhood dream come true, all her prayers to the distant stars in the dark of night, her birthday wishes. No more going unnoticed. No more being invisible. No more of people looking right through her.

But it comes at the cost of her Quirk. Lost, unsure of her next steps, Toru has to figure out what it means to finally be seen when she’s been invisible her entire life, and what it means when she can no longer hide anything to anyone—or to herself.

balloons can’t make you fly

Five times Uraraka solved her problems by making them float, and one time she didn’t need her Quirk for it.

Don't ever tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash

When the Hero Commission gets involved with concerns about Hitoshi entering U.A.’s hero course due to his “villainous” Quirk, Hitoshi suddenly drops out of U.A. entirely, leaving his friends and teachers concerned about where he’s gone.

If the Hero Commission is law, Hitoshi makes the decision to defy it, taking a more direct approach to chasing his dreams: vigilantism.

Do you trust yourself?

Yaoyorozu Momo is supposed to be perfect. She is a recommended student, has a powerful Quirk, and comes from a family with a history of heroics.

But for all of her expectations, Momo knows she has one weakness: a crippling lack of confidence. But Momo’s friends and mentors are happy to teach Momo to trust herself.

A Momo-centric fic that spans her years at U.A. and her first steps as a hero.

Ignorance is Bliss*

Maybe Kyoka shouldn’t have been listening to Midoriya and All Might’s conversation, but she was curious. She ends up hearing more than she should—but not quite enough to get the full story.

Struggling to come to terms with “All Might’s legacy” and a connection to the villain who destroyed Kamino, All for One, Kyoka asks her classmate Todoroki for help unraveling a secret. The two form an unlikely team and friendship as they begin looking for the truth: about All for One, All Might, Midoriya, and the ties that bind them together.

Fear the Anger of a Kind Soul

There’s a bit of an unspoken rule in the dorms. Don’t mess with Uraraka.

Mineta tries. The story starts with him trying to sneak into her room, and ends with an expulsion, a few holes in the ceiling, and a social media post gone viral.

Dissociation Potion

Todoroki, in a spur of bad-decision making, makes a drink he found browsing social media.

It’s not pretty.

A Siren's Call

AU—Jirou Kyoka is an up-and-coming singer, known better as JACK!, pursuing her dreams in music after graduating. Her fast track through school and constant work leaves her lonely. Though she won’t admit it, she’s on the path to burnout; even as her fanbase grows, Jirou feels like no one really listens to her.

After performing at a Hero Gala, there are suddenly more eyes on her than usual, including villains. When she’s attacked, pro hero Creati saves her, and they become friends. Creati, or Yaoyorozu Momo, introduces Kyoka to more pro heroes; suddenly Kyoka has friends her age who like her music but more importantly like her.

Not everyone approves of Kyoka’s new friends, especially not her manager. Rumors start on social media. And a dangerous accident almost threatens to tear Kyoka’s friendships apart, but she’s determined not to lose the people she’s come to care for.

dancing with the devil in the pale moonlight

One by one, students at U.A. disappear overnight. No one knows where they’ve gone, or what happened.

Tension grows as parents panic, investigation turns up nothing, and the teachers search desperately for their students. That is, until Aizawa discovers a calling card left behind, half-hidden, on which is carefully written: Let’s dance.

What’s revealed is a Quirk trafficking ring—targeting powerful Quirks, with no better to choose from than the most prestigious hero school in Japan.

Cross the Delta

Asui Tsuyu knows even at the young age of seven that her froglike features make her an oddity amongst her peers. She tries to let their jeers and taunts slough off her like water, but they seep under her skin instead. A Hero with a Mutant Quirk helps her to see differently. Asui Tsuyu will become a Hero, oddity or not (from @happi-tree).

Miscellaneous

Revenge of the Roses

A non-deadly Hanahaki fic in which characters try to get each other to fall in love without falling in love back.

They’ve got a deadline: exams, when Hanahaki will get them out of it. They’ve got dates planned.

And, well, it doesn’t seem to be working. (Either the characters stay as friends and end up doing really nice things for each other, or they’re both falling in love. Oops.)

Run If You Can

Tensei’s hero career is— well, it’s over. There’s no wheeling around the fact, but that’s okay; he knows Tenya will be a great hero following in his footsteps and carrying the legacy of Ingenium.

It’s just that some days Tensei wheels down the hospital halls and realizes he’s become of the people that needs the saving, not the hero anymore. It’s just that some days he gets a call from the office or a bouquet of flowers and feels worse for the well wishes, not better. It’s just that some days he remembers it’s all over, and he’s one of the tragedies.

He doesn’t regret Stain. He doesn’t regret standing up to him, or lying in the street bleeding out knowing he might have saved someone else. But he doesn’t know what to do now.

There’s no running when you can’t run anymore.

#bnha #bnha fanfic #bnha prompt #fake fic asks #open prompts

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