#should’ve worn your seatbelt

[tunez-jem]

Zeke crashed Skimpus car :(

(he’s not paying him back)

IbisPaint sucks pp, I tried adding the text there but it ran so damn slow so I resorted to PicsArt. And I don’t know how to draw cars, sorry for tracing giys 💔💔

(I forgot to add his beer and vomit, sorry :(( )

@kevmania @retzin

[melodygatesauthor]

Shut Up, Marc

Marc Spector X f!Reader

Part 2 of 28 in the February Fluff and Fuck 2023 Challenge

Day 2 Prompt - Friends to Lovers

Summary: After a bad breakup, you call your close friend Marc to come and pick you up. You don't feel like going home to be alone on Valentine's Day, so he agrees to take you to his place for the night.

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, smut, porn with some plot, Jake and Steven make minor appearances, mentions of reader's father w/ alcoholism and abusing mother (non-explicit), valentine's day fic, friends to lovers

Word Count: 4k

You were standing on the sidewalk outside of your, now, exes house with a river of tears falling down your cheeks. When you looked at your phone, you saw the time was 11:01pm. It was late, too late to call anyone. You were certain that in this small town there wouldn’t even be a cab available. As your mind raced through names of people who could help, you realized who you should’ve thought of first and foremost.

You remembered when Marc had told you, anytime you need anything, you just call me, alright? Surely it was too late, but you didn’t have anyone else you could think of that would come get you at that hour on Valentine’s Day.

Your mother had told you that Kevin was no good from the first day you’d met him, but you didn’t listen of course. You liked the way he made you laugh, and he was a damn good cook. None of that made up for the fact that just then, when you’d come over to surprise him for what was supposed to be the most romantic day of the year, you’d found him pressed, hips to ass with another woman.

With shaking hands, and blurred vision, you called Marc.

When he answered, he croaked out your name in his sleep drunk state, “...what’s going on? It’s…it’s past eleven at night. Are you ok?”

“M-Marc…” You whimpered, trying to keep yourself from sobbing over the phone.

“Are you hurt?” He immediately sounded awake, as though he wasn’t just woken from sleep. He was so intense sometimes, it took you off guard.

“N-no, Marc nothing like that.” You said.

“Then what is it?” He asked, concerned.

“I’m going to be at Bixie’s Crossroads, can you come get me?” You asked, voice cracking under your sorrow.

“Be there in ten.” He said, hanging up the phone.

You knew he lived twenty minutes from Bixie’s, but if Marc Spector said that he was going to be somewhere, he would be there, and he would be there on time or earlier. You felt cold, having worn only a cute and short dress in an effort to impress your now ex boyfriend. The heels you were in had you in agony as you approached the gas station where you’d wait for Marc. You hoped the blisters on your ankles would heal quickly.

Marc finally showed up and rushed over to you.

“Hey…” he said your name, “are you ok?”

You nodded, holding yourself tight and shivering. He immediately saw how cold you were and removed his coat, wrapping it over your shoulders before ushering you to the truck. After helping you into your seat, he got back in on the driver’s side and then started driving. You pulled your seatbelt over yourself and tugged his coat around you tightly.

“Was it that asshole Kevin?” He asked. “You know I always-”

“Can you please just shut up.” You said more harshly than you meant to.

“I have to ask…am I taking you home or…” He was timid when asking you a question after you’d snapped at him to shut up.

“I don’t want to impose, but I’d rather not go home so I don’t have to hear, I told you so, from my Mom too.” You crossed your arms over your chest and looked into the side mirror.

Your makeup was running down your face. It was such a mess that some had even spilled onto your cleavage. Marc was quiet for a while, you knew he was trying to think of something to say, and after a moment of calming down, you weren’t as upset with him when he spoke to you again.

“Jake is pissed off.” You looked over at Marc. “He is yelling at me to go fight the guy.” Marc chuckled.

“If I thought it would change anything, I’d let him.” You looked back out the window.

“I’m surprised you didn’t want Steven. He’s a lot better at this kind of thing you know.” Marc pointed out.

He was right. You’d known Marc and his alters for a long time, and of course you loved them all dearly and the roles they played in your life, but when you thought about who you really needed when you were standing outside of your ex's house in heaving sobs, it was Marc. Marc always knew how to take care of you, and he was the one you wished you could talk to.

You remembered being a kid, he was a few years older than you, and your dad was fucked up again, drunk out of his mind and taking it out on your mother. Marc was fifteen, you were nine. His father and your father had been friends, that’s how you’d met. You were sitting outside that night, listening to your parents fighting inside and Marc happened to be walking by on his way to the convenience store. He saw you, and walked over to you.

He didn’t say anything, he just held you on the doorstep and rubbed your shoulder while you cried. That was also the first time you learned about Steven. Saying Marc knew how to take care of you, meant that he knew how to make sure you were safe, and out of harm’s way. He didn’t like the parts that came after, the comforting and the telling you, everything will be alright, he didn’t think he should be the one to do that. He didn’t think he was good enough to be that support system for you.

So many times after that you would turn to Marc to help you when you needed him, and so many times he would rescue you from whatever issue you found yourself in, and so many times he would dip out when it got emotionally difficult to handle. Even then, as you sat in his truck while he drove through town, nearly at his house, you were waiting for him to go into hiding and let Steven take over.

“I need you, Marc.” You said, keeping your eyes out the window.

More silence filled the small space.

When Marc pulled into the driveway of his house, you both got out of the truck. You followed him up the driveway in your aching feet. You couldn’t wait to get inside and take off your heels, and you wished you’d worn something more practical. Marc muttered something unintelligible at his window, no doubt one of the boys still talking about you, while he fumbled with his keys before he finally opened the door and ushered you inside.

Warmth.

You felt the heat envelop you the moment you walked through the door, but you didn’t want to take off Marc’s jacket yet. You clutched it around yourself, feeling the fabric wrapping you in a sense of comfort and safety. It smelled like him, and that alone was enough to make you feel better.

“Do you want me to grab you some sweats and a shirt? Might be a little big on you, but it will probably be more comfortable than what you’re wearing.” He offered, dropping his keys in a dish on a table by the door.

“Yeah, that would be great, Marc.” You caught a glimpse of yourself in the entryway mirror and sighed heavily. “Actually, can I hop in the shower first? I’m a mess.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah sure. Bathroom is right down the hall over there. Towels are on the shelf in there.” He said, pointing to the left of the dining room.

Now you removed the jacket, handing it to him. You went to the bathroom and washed away the night. You washed away the makeup that had run down your cheeks after all the crying you’d done, and you washed away the perfume that Kevin had always told you was his favorite that you wore just for him. You were left with nothing but embarrassment, and frustration.

When you stepped out of the shower, you could hear Steven talking and he sounded upset. You had a feeling you knew why he had control now, and you were sure you’d find out for sure when you were finished in the bathroom. Steam billowed around you when you stepped into the hall, and you heard Steven stop speaking abruptly. They were talking about you. Of course they were, what else would they have been talking about?

You turned left and could see Steven standing in the living room holding a set of clothes neatly folded in his hands, outstretched to you.

“Hi, Steven.” You said, walking over and grabbing the clothes from him.

“Hi…” Steven said your name. “Marc is erm…”

“I don’t care. He always does this to me.” You started to choke up again, but you didn’t like making Steven feel bad so you turned away. “Thanks for these clothes.”

“Oh, don’t cry, it’s going to be alright, love.” He said gently, touching your back. “Look I tried to tell Marc that you needed him tonight, but he really insisted that he thought I was best for the job.”

“He’s always running away on me when I’m upset. I know it’s hard for him, but I need him.” You looked at Steven again. “I care about you Steven, and Jake too, but sometimes I just need Marc.” You let out a heavy sigh. “Nevermind. I’m just gonna go change and then head to bed I guess.”

Steven looked heartbroken for you as you stepped away from him and made your way to the bathroom again. You dried yourself and pouted at your puffy eyes in the mirror. This wasn’t how this night was supposed to go. You should’ve been curled up with Kevin watching a crappy movie pretending that you didn’t feel his erection poking your hip until he couldn’t stand it anymore and you let him take you in the bedroom. Instead you were listening to Steven arguing with the other two in the living room from the bathroom of their house.

When you walked out, he was hushed again, and looking at you softly. His cheeks were all red from the arguing. You could tell he was distressed. He hated arguing, and he especially hated it when the three of them were in disagreement. You imagined it must be hard to have three minds in one body all pulling different directions.

“Steven, you don’t have to argue with him anymore, I’m good.” You pressed your lips together tightly. “Marc, I know you can hear me. I get it, I want you to know I’m not mad, it just really sucks. I needed you.”

“For what it’s worth, you can talk to me if you need an ear, or you can just y’know, cry on my shoulder if you want.” Steven offered, looking now like he needed a hug.

You sighed, “I really think I’m just going to go to bed.” You insisted. “I’m tired.”

“There’s only the one bed now. The guest room is getting renovated, so you go ahead and sleep in my room. I’ll sleep out here.” He said.

“I’m not going to take your bed Steven.” You said. “I can sleep-”

“I insist. It’s much more comfortable and you had a hard night.” He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, that much was clear.

You nodded. “Alright then. Thanks Steven. I appreciate you so, so much.”

Of the three of them, you’d only hugged Marc and Steven, and Steven gave the best hugs by far. You would think that something like a hug, being from the same body, wouldn’t be any different regardless of who was in control, but Steven’s hugs were easy to melt into, like they softened every part of you. He was so warm.

“Keep your chin up, love.” Steven said, “you’re really amazing and you deserve better than whatever that horrible person did to you.”

“Thank you Steven. Truly.” You said, waving goodnight to him as you headed down the hall to their bedroom.

As you walked into the room, you felt a sense of sadness wash over you. You were alone again, and even your closest friend wasn’t going to be there to comfort you. You thought about going back out to the living room to take Steven up on his offer for a good shoulder cry, and even ask him to sleep in the bed with you, but you decided against it. You couldn’t give Marc the satisfaction of using Steven as an emotional sponge when he hid from you.

Ever since you and Marc had become friends, you knew Marc was like this, constantly wallowing in self-pity and self-loathing. You thought about the time that you two tried to date after you were nineteen and he had just turned twenty-five, and he quite literally told you that he was, too messed up to bring you down with him. He even managed to, through a night of painful sobbing of his own, tell you about the trauma that caused it all in the first place. Despite all of it, you still cared about him, and you still loved him and wanted to date him, but he refused to, as he put it, put you through that.

So the two of you had remained just friends through all that time. Over the years you got to know Steven and Jake too, and you cared for them as much as you cared for Marc, even though Jake could be a little rough around the edges at times. Right now though, you needed your best friend. You needed the man who had been there from the beginning.

He always felt like his comforting wasn’t good enough, and like you deserved a better friend. No matter how many times you told him that you didn’t need someone to hold your hand or dry your tears, that you just needed him to be there and let you talk, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Steven told you once that he thought seeing you upset bothered Marc so much that he couldn’t bear to see it without feeling the need to hide.

It didn’t matter now, he was out there, hiding from you, and you were in his bed, curled up under his blankets and wetting his pillows with your damp hair and still streaming tears. You froze when you heard the door open. You sat up and looked through the darkness and saw him standing there.

“Steven?” You asked, squinting your puffy eyes.

“No, it’s me.” Marc said quietly.

“Marc.” You said, relieved. “Come here, please.” You practically begged, holding up one end of the blanket and beckoning him to join you.

He walked over and got into the bed, laying his head down and looking at you. His eyes were so pretty, glistening in what little light the moon provided through the window above the headboard. He reached up a hand and wiped away a tear with his thumb. His hand stayed on your cheek. You smiled and leaned into his touch.

“I’m an asshole.” He said quietly.

“I know you don’t mean to be.” You said. “I know this isn’t easy for you, so thank you.”

“Come here.” He whispered, pulling you in tightly.

You nestled into his chest and wrapped your arm around him. You felt his soft breathing against your body, the beat of his heart was quick, but soothing. There was nothing you wanted more than to feel him like this forever. 

“You know, I can’t help but feel responsible for this.” He said after some time. 

You pulled back and looked up at him. “How? You didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“If I didn’t push you away all those times…” He groaned, “nevermind. You’d just be crying over something I did instea-”

You cut him off with your lips on his. It was likely he was going to push you away, and it was possible you were rebounding from what had happened with Kevin, but you didn’t care. This was what you needed right now, this was the comfort that you craved. His lips were just as soft as you’d imagined for all those years.

Marc tensed for a second, you were ready for him to shove you away in surprise, but he didn’t. Instead you felt him relax before wrapping his arms around you further. When the kiss finally broke, he just stared at you, looking from your lips to your eyes and back again before going back in. Your mouths melted into each other in sweet rhythm and repetition.

“I’m so sorry.” He said breathlessly.

“Marc, just shut the fuck up.” You said, going in for another bruising kiss.

You wrapped a leg over his and you immediately felt the hardness of his cock pressing against you. You’d had fantasies about fucking Marc before, back before you tried dating each other, and you never thought you’d actually get the chance to do it. You separated your lips from his just to place more kisses along his stubbled jawline. The moment your mouth touched the soft skin of his neck, you heard a quiet breathy moan escape him followed by a needy grind of his cock against your clothed cunt.

“Is this something you really want?” He asked. “I don’t want you to-”

“Marc!” You said, leaving his neck to look incredulously into his hooded and lusty eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up Marc, I got it.” He closed his mouth over yours once more, filling you with his needy moans.

You felt his hands begin to explore from your back down to your hip as you returned your mouth to his neck. You were grinding gently against him, feeling your hand working its way down to his hip as well, and slipping into the waistband. He let out a shuttered breath when you started getting a little rougher with your neckplay, sucking the skin there between your teeth.

“F-fuck.” He whispered, churning his hips with a desperation for even the slightest friction.

“You like that, Marc?” You asked against his throat. “You like when I tease you like this?”

“Yeah, yeah I do.” His voice cracked.

You slipped your hand into the waistband further, gently running your fingertips over the shaft of his long cock. You felt him let out a soft whine as he became more desperate. He slid his hand further into your sweats as well. You hadn’t realized how wet you were until his callused middle fingertip touched between your folds. A sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper escaped you.

“Shit, you’re so wet. Damn.” He said, voice becoming more airy and hungry. He slid a finger into your hole. “And tight.”

“Think you can fit?” You asked, wrapping your hand around his girth. “You’re so thick, Marc.”

“I’m gonna try like hell.” He promised, now rolling you so that you were on your back.

You pulled your hand from his cock and reached again for his waistband, pulling eagerly in an attempt to free his erection from the cloth. He assisted you, getting his pants and underwear off before tossing them to the side as though they’d done him wrong. Then you took yours off quickly, trying to get him inside of you as soon as you could. Marc was the type that could change his mind in a moment’s notice, and you didn’t want him backing out now that he’d come so far.

Your legs were spread out under him, the cool air nipping at the wet folds. He brushed the head of his cock at your entrance, testing his size against your small hole. You weren’t a virgin, far from it, but he was bigger than anyone you’d had before, and you knew it would probably be a little painful.

“Will you let me know if I’m hurting you?” He looked at you expectantly.

“For fuck’s sake, Marc, please just-”

He grunted as he slowly pushed past your threshold and deep into you. You muttered an, oh, shit, as he pulled back out again and repeated the process. He sounded so good, groaning with every thrust to the hilt. You arched your back, trying to get him in as deep as you could. This inspired one of his hands to lift under the shirt you wore and latch to your breast. He pinched your nipple before kissing you more, stealing your moans into his mouth.

You wished now that you’d pressed harder when Marc pushed you away years ago. You wished that you’d fought him harder and made him see reason. Another thrust, deep and intentional, forcing your cunt to pulsate over him.

“You sound so good baby, your sweet moans are just…fuck.” He breathed heavily, grunting more, moving harder and faster.

He leaned back up, lifting his shirt up so he could watch himself as he fucked you. You could see it too when you leaned up. His thick length sliding all the way back, almost ready to drop out, before he pushed it back in slowly. You touched your hand to his abdomen, in love with the way it rippled with each fierce movement. There wasn’t a more beautiful sight, not one you could imagine, than Marc watching himself proudly as he filled your hole. His hair was disheveled at this point, sticking to his face, but he looked so good.

“Feels so good Marc, I don’t think I’m going to last much longer.” You whined, feeling your core heating the harder he fucked you.

“Good, I can’t wait to feel your pussy crushing my cock baby.” He was close too, you could feel it in the way his movement became more rapid, nearly bruising your cunt with the strength at which he slammed into you.

“I like it when you call me that.” You admitted. He dropped his shirt and turned his attention back to you.

“Good, that’s really good, baby.” His tone became dark and husky as he leaned forward and grabbed you tightly.

“Are you going to fill me, Marc? You gonna fill me with your cum?” You asked, feeling your climax rising inside of you.

“You want me to? I’d love that.” He buried his face into your neck. “Just tell me.”

“Yes Marc, I want you to…I need you to fill me up.” You begged. “I’m right there, I’m-oh.”

You trembled under Marc’s frame, your cunt doing just as he said he’d wanted and contracting down over his thick cock in a hard pulsating motion. You were making a sound between a scream and a groan. Marc didn’t waste time joining you, his body seizing as his cock throbbed inside of you, stretching you and filling you as full as it could. He stayed like that, holding you in an embrace that you wished would last a lifetime.

When he finally stepped back and climbed off the bed on wobbling legs, he left the room and came back a moment later with a towel. The way he tossed it at you…you knew it wasn’t him anymore. You knew he must’ve taken over when Marc walked out of the room. He crossed his arms over his chest. It didn’t matter to you that one of his alters was seeing you naked, what bothered you was the fact that it was…

“Jake. Give Marc back the body.” You demanded.

“So, are you going to tell me where Kevin lives, or am I going to have to track him down myself, cariño?”

AO3 LINK

TAGLIST (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed): @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @my-secret-shame, @welcometostayingawake, @jake-g-lockley, @campingwiththecharmings, @steven-grants-world, @lia275

[putaposyinyourhair]

Slowly but Also Like All at Once

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

noah diaz x mirage (aka the literal personification of ‘wait, did you just flirt with me?’ and ‘have been for the past year but thanks for noticing’)

warnings : mirage isn't exactly himself but it's only temporary and also more f bombs dropped

oh shit here comes reek

“Could you— can you transform into, like, a Civic hatchback or somethin’?” Noah inquires quietly after having to clear his throat a bit awkwardly— probably because he’d spent pretty much the entire ride back to Brooklyn in stunned silence, still mulling over Optimus’ request. “Y’know, before we roll into the neighborhood?”

There’s a beat of silence. And Noah wonders if he’s said something wrong.

“I know you did not just ask me to do that,” Mirage snorts then, in a clearly offended tone. Because apparently, Honda Civics are beneath him.

Noah scowls heavily down at the radio.

“Oh, my bad, your highness—” he begins to apologize sarcastically, only to be cut off by the mech.

“You’re not forgiven,” Mirage points out snobbishly.

Noah lets out a frustrated groan, fingers curling inward around his box of electronics— which he’d pulled into his lap earlier amidst the silence, as something to busy himself with, checking if everything was as promised; not crushed— and one of his fingers pokes a hole straight through the worn down cardboard.

“Look,” he sighs. “It’s broad daylight out. My man, Reek, he’s always out front and he’s gonna recognize you in a second flat. Plus, everybody and they mama knows I’m way too fuckin’ broke to be crusin’ ‘round in a Porsche, bro. Come on.”

Mirage’s radio emits a droning buzz, followed by an annoyed groan just as the Porsche begins to slow and pull over.

“The things I do for you,” Mirage snaps. “They’re not natural. It should be studied.”

He pops the driver side door open.

“Out.”

Noah’s brows furrow, confused, but nevertheless he does as he’s told and climbs out with his box still in hand. He rounds the Porsche and steps onto the sidewalk, chuckling awkwardly under his breath as a few pedestrians glance his way when the silver and blue vehicle burns rubber and sends up a puff of smoke as Mirage peels away from the curb.

Noah feels kind of abandoned for a moment.

His chest does that stupid twisty thing that he’d thought it had finally decided to stop doing. He wonders for a moment if he should’ve sucked it up and just not said anything.

But then the loud sound of an engine revving calls his attention and Noah’s jaw drops when a silver Volkswagen Corrado SLC VR6 coupe with blue stripes rolls up to the curb.

It’s definitely not a Civic.

The passenger side window rolls down.

“I hope you know this is like the equivalent of me asking you to shave all your hair off for me.”

Oh.

Noah definitely should’ve just sucked it up. Maybe asked Mirage to drop him off down the block instead. There’s so many other ways he could’ve gone about this.

He feels like shit. And it shows in the way his shoulders droop and he lowers his head, looking up at the Corrado kind of sheepishly.

“I’m just yanking your chain, sweetspark,” Mirage admits casually. “I don’t give a flying frag. Hop in.”

The words are said so flippantly, Noah almost misses the new term of endearment the bot somehow manages to sneak in there— at least he thinks it’s a term of endearment anyways; the cybertronian version of sweetheart.

His cheeks flood with a swift rush of heat. And he tells himself it’s just because of the stifling heat outside. But he can’t exactly explain away that stupid hot jabbing sensation in his chest that’s also decided to make a sudden return.

He huffs and rounds the car once more, Mirage opening and closing the door for him as he climbs inside.

“You’re a dick,” Noah grumbles beneath his breath as he sets his box down on the passenger seat then fastens his seatbelt, his face still flushed.

“Yeah, but it’s not like you didn’t already know that.”

God damn him, he’s right too.

Noah decides to ignore him for the next few minutes it takes for them to roll up outside his apartment building— evading the bot’s comments and questions with a few spaced-out hums. Instead, he keeps watch out the window for anyone who knows him too well and might think it’s weird for him to be pulling up in a strange car. A car that Noah still— despite the change into a Volkswagen— could never be able to afford.

Mirage’s engine cuts off as soon as he pulls over, after expertly parallel parking between a Mazda 626 and an old Lincoln town car Noah recognizes as Mr. Delano’s, a senile old man that lives a few doors down from him and sometimes gets into shouting matches with the ghost of his ex-wife, Shirley.

“Ladies and gents, we have arrived at our destination,” Mirage announces through the radio with a crackle of static— and Noah thinks he does it on purpose, to make the dumb joke sound more authentic. “974 Wilson Avenue. You may now unfasten your seatbelts.”

It’s adorable, unfortunately, and Noah can’t help the smirk it pulls out of him.

“Got ‘em.”

Noah shakes his head and turns to look out the window— hoping that it somehow hides the quickly-growing full blown smile on his face from Mirage.

Across the street, Mrs. Moreno’s triplets are playing double dutch with a long jump rope that obviously used to be a few smaller jump ropes, which have now been tied together.

“So, I’m picking you up later tonight, right?” Mirage inquires after a moment, his playful tone falling into a far more somber one— like he’s kind of scared Noah’s going to say no. “After you talk to your family and pack?”

The smile on Noah’s face drops.

He’s had a long ride back to Bushwick to think about the answer to that question. A long time to think on Optimus’ offer. And he still doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

Or maybe some part of him does but he’s torn between his options.

On one hand, he has to face his ma— who’s already gonna tear him a new one for missing dinner and not checking in— and tell her he’s leaving again, with barely an explanation as to why. And on top of that, he has to explain it to Kris too. At least when it comes to his little brother, he can give the kid a version that’s closer to the truth.

On the other hand, he has to do something that he’s pretty sure is gonna break his heart; say goodbye. Might break Mirage’s heart too— or rather, his spark.

A few buildings down, Noah can see Mr. Jackson’s son— Noah thinks his name is Paulie— feeding the neighborhood stray cats, something that usually brings his neighbor, Mrs. Vargas, out with a broom in her hand, yelling at him in Spanish because she hates that the ‘pequeños demonios’ keep eating the plants she has on her windowsills.

Except Paulie doesn’t speak Spanish and usually just waves obliviously.

Noah glances down at the radio and heaves a soft sigh.

“Mirage,” he begins to say. “Look, dude, I don’t know if—”

Mirage’s radio releases a garbled, high-pitched whine that makes Noah wince a bit.

“Aw, come on,” the bot moans— and Noah imagines that if the mech were in his rootmode, he’d be kicking his legs in a fuss. “You can’t leave me with those tightasses, man!”

Noah huffs softly beneath his breath, digging his teeth into the smooth skin on the inside of his bottom lip.

“I’ll beg if I have to, gorgeous.”

Motherfucker…

Noah’s just about had it with him.

Mostly just because he thinks his heart might give out with the way it keeps tripping over a beat every time the mech uses one of those goddamn pet names.

Is it flirting? It feels like flirting. But Noah’s not sure. Because he’s a loser and he doesn’t actually know the first thing about flirting. He’s never had time for that before.

He’d always been too busy serving in the army and then running around, worrying about Kris, to even let himself stop and think about something as frivolous as trying to get his flirt on.

Plus, Noah doesn’t know if cybertronians even know what flirting is.

Sure, it feels deliberate. But it’s totally possible Mirage is just repeating shit he’s heard on the streets, or on TV. Right?

Noah’s eyes widen.

What the hell is he even thinking?

He shakes his head.

“Look, Noah. I know this is… a big decision,” Mirage comments softly. “I really want you to come with me. I mean, come on, man. We’re partners. But… I’ll understand if you don’t.”

Why does the mech have to be so freaking sweet about it too?

Noah wants to dig the heels of his palms into his eyes and push until he starts seeing stars.

“How about I give you some time to think about it?” the bot suggests. “I’ll drop by later tonight. That sound like a plan?”

Noah just nods. Because he doesn’t trust his voice not to betray him in that moment and drop like he’s some kind of pre-pubescent teenager.

The Corrado’s driver side door clicks open.

Noah unfastens his seatbelt.

“Don’t forget your gizmos,” Mirage reminds him pointedly. “I know how important they are to you.”

A sharp squawk from a few feet away has Noah’s head snapping up to see a wide-eyed Reek— who’d clearly crossed the street, headed in Noah’s direction— trip over nothing but air and go down hard on the pavement.

“Oh, shit,” Noah exclaims, jumping out of the Corrado. “You aight, man?” He zips over to his fallen friend’s side and reaches down to help the man up.

Reek, with the help of Noah who’s got ahold of one of the other man’s shoulders, stands on shaky feet. His nose is busted and a small rivulet of blood is running over his lip and down his chin.

“Shit, bro, you’re bleedin’,” Noah tells him.

But Reek doesn’t seem to be paying Noah or the blood on his face any mind. No, instead he’s gawking at the Corrado behind Noah.

Noah feels his muscles tense.

“Noah…” Reek begins slowly. “Did that motherfuckin’ car just talk?”

Noah thinks he should be commended for the way he immediately snaps into action, releasing his friend and taking a step back, forcing out a chuckle that’s only kind of awkward.

“A talking car?” he snorts, reaching back to shut the Corrado’s driver side door in a way he really hopes looks chill and unbothered. “Man, you trippin’. You been smokin’ way too much of that chronic shit.”

He hears the window make a whirring noise that clearly means Mirage is rolling it down and he steps back again— his backside coming into contact with the driver side door— in an attempt to shield it from Reek’s view.

“Don’t play with me, man!” Reek cries out, pointing at him. “I ain’t crazy. I know what I just seen with my own two eyes!”

Noah’s eyes widen and he takes a moment to glance around the street, hoping their little spat isn’t drawing any unwanted attention.

“So, I’ma ask you again, dawg,” Reek snaps. “Did that motherfuckin’ car just talk?”

“No?” Noah tries again.

“Yes.”

The admission comes from over Noah’s shoulder and Noah absolutely freezes.

“What the fuck…” Reek breathes out, utterly stunned. “It just talked again. The fuckin’ car just talked.”

Noah turns his head to the side for a second and narrows his eyes down at the silver and blue Corrado.

“Shut up,” he whispers, both hands fisted at his sides, before he whirls back around to face Reek. He stubbornly ignores the way the metal at his rear warms up and seems to tremble.

“It just talked again,” Reek is babbling away, his wild gaze jumping between the car and Noah. “It talks. It’s a talking car. The fuckin’ car just talked again, Noah.”

“No, it didn’t!” Noah denies immediately— unable to control the way his voice rises in pitch in his panic.

Mrs. Moreno’s kids pause their game of double dutch for a second to glance across the street at them.

Noah reaches up and waves at them dumbly until they return to their game.

“Yes, I did,” Mirage’s voice contradicts— and Noah’s gonna kill him, strip him for parts, something, because the asshole sounds proud of it too.

He snaps and whirls back around.

“God damn it, Mirage,” he stresses, forcing his voice to stay low and ignoring Reek’s ravings behind him. “So much for being a master spy. Announce it to the whole world while you’re at it, why don’t you? Way to be slick, dude.”

“Oh, I can show you slick,” Mirage’s sly voice drawls. “All you gotta do is ask nicely, baby. I’ll put on a real good show for you.”

Okaaaay.

Noah thinks it’s finally safe to assume that Mirage isn’t just repeating shit he’s heard on the streets or on TV. This is definitely deliberate.

Noah thinks even the back of his neck flushes this time around.

He bites out an exasperated groan and bends down to lean into the Corrado’s cabin as Mirage rolls his engine over, reaching out for his box. He steadfastly ignores the way the metal digging into his stomach vibrates just a little more than strictly necessary.

“We’re gonna have a serious conversation about this later,” he points out, glaring at the radio as he pulls the box into the driver’s seat so he can get a better grip on it. “Now get outta here before you give my friend a heart attack.”

“Yes, sir,” Mirage taunts immaturely— and Noah’s sure that had the bot been in his rootmode, he would’ve stuck his tongue out at Noah. If that’s even what it’s called. Noah knows he has one, he’s noticed it before.

Noah yanks his box out of the car and, reaching out to grab ahold of Reek’s arm, moves them both over to the sidewalk where he can do nothing but sigh as Mirage once more peels away from the curb with a shriek of screeching tires— damn near scratching the faded paint on Mr. Delano’s Lincoln.

“Noah…”

Noah turns to face Reek, his freckled cheeks absolutely still blazing away.

The man’s got one brow firmly arched. And he still looks kind of blanched, something Noah’s never seen from him before, but he’s also got this wary look on his face

“Look, man, I can explain—”

“Noah,” Reek begins again, tentatively— like he’s about to ask something that even he can’t quite believe he’s going to ask. “Did you fuck that car?”

Noah damn nearly chokes on his own tongue.

[fandom-puff]

Fluff prompt request for Hotch with “You’re freezing, Jesus!” please :D so glad to see someone who writes Hotch x reader fics join the ranks, especially someone with your talent and skill!!

Coming right up!

Better Jacket

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Warnings: none

Notes: this is mega short and mega clunky sorry x

Gif creds to owner

“You good, YLN?”

You looked up quickly, flashing a brief smile at Hotch. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Should’ve worn a better jacket is all,”

Hotch rolled his eyes fondly; you were the newest member of the team, and he felt a little protective of the newbie. “D’you want the heater on?”

“No, no. You’ll have to put the engine on then, and that might give us away,” you said quickly, tugging on your jacket and zipping it all the way up.

Hotch was quiet for a moment. “Well… you just tell me if you get too cold. Morgan should be taking over soon,”

***

As the engine hummed beneath you, you looked up from your notebook. “That’s us for the night. Morgan’s here,”

You smiled, buckling up your seatbelt. “Y’want the heater on now?”

“Y-yes, please,” you murmured, your teeth chattering a little.

“You’re freezing, Jesus!” He murmured, more to himself than to you; he’d never hear the end of it if you had frostbite or something.

“I’m a-alright. Just n-need the heating to kick in,” you said quickly. Hotch shook his head, unbuckling his seatbelt and shucking off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. Despite yourself, you pulled it closer to you, wrapping the oversized fleece over your body.

The drive back to the office was silent, save for the hum of the engine and your occasional shivering breaths that died down as you warmed up.

As you got out of the car, you made to shrug off the jacket, but Hotch stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. “You keep that on now. I’m not having you catch a cold before we solve this case,” he told you. “Now zip up, grab your things, and go home, alright. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you nodded, hurrying off. As Hotch watched you gather your stuff, he smiled gently as the jacket practically hung off your body, the sleeves far too long.

[minniepetals]

Hi!! I have maybe a dumb question? But what do you think happened after the car accident in butterfly? I’m assuming the other guys found out and Freaked but I’d love to hear some headcanons about that if you have any from when your wrote it? 🥺❤️ it’s one of my favorite series (honestly everything you write I love) so I’d love to know more about that moment ❤️ hope you’re doing well love!

not a dumb question at all bub! if anyone's wondering what anon means, you can find the butterseries here and the chapter butterfly here! honestly it does sound intriguing doesn't it? i should've added a little bit of it in the main story but perhaps it'd go a little like this...

warning: spoiler for butterfly if you haven't read it yet

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When Hoseok got the call about the situation from Taehyung, of course he was panicking but he knew that while the younger one was freaking out and could put himself in danger due to recklessness and the overwhelming of his emotions, he had to be the one to act as calm as possible.

When the call ended, he was quick to turn to his assistant who stood a few inches behind. "Cancel the meeting," he ordered and although last minute cancelations weren't the best action to take especially when there were only ten minutes left before the meeting would take place, one look at the hard expression on his boss's face which did his best to hide his true emotions, Hoseok's assistant couldn't talk back and simply nodded to take care of the matters at hand.

When he knew he could trust his assistant with the task to handle that for him, Hoseok quickly dialed for Namjoon who picked up one the fourth ring.

"Mr. Jung," his secretary answered for him instead and Hoseok inwardly cursed. "Mr. Kim is in the middle of a meeting with the Yoon corporations, would you like me to forward a message after it is over?"

"No, this is an emergency, forward it to him immediately," he responded instantly with a grave tone that let his secretary know that the situation at hand was far more important than any meeting the CEO of the company was holding.

After that was over, Hoseok turned to his assistant again. "Let the others know what happened," he said, knowing it'd be faster that way, and without waiting for a reply, the man rushed to leave the building.

Word was quick to spread to the rest of the men who were in the middle of their work. The second the news reached their ears, however, everything came to a standstill as their hearts escalated with fear and work was immediately set on hold.

Meanwhile Taehyung who had reached you first had carried you into his car so that he could drive you to the hospital. The ride was silent, almost deafening in a way that he didn't like.

While he knew he had to focus on driving, it wasn't easy to ignore you who sat in the passenger seat, eyes staring blindly at nothing before you as harrowing thoughts walked into your head.

You were quiet, so quiet, but the grip you held onto the blazer he had draped around your shoulder was knuckle white, trembling, until Taehyung couldn't take it anymore and pulled over to the side of the road.

"Y/N." His voice didn't reach you until you felt his touch, which at first caused you to instinctively flinch, before you quickly apologized for reacting that way. How small your voice was, so weak and frail, and Taehyung's heart shattered at the state you were in.

"Please don't apologize," he begged. "There's nothing for you to apologize for." He took ahold of your hands which wouldn't stop shaking no matter how much you tried, enveloping them in the palms of his large hands in order to give you warmth and comfort. "Can you look at me?" He asked, softly, sweetly, so how could you ever refuse when he was the only thing keeping you sane and was your saving grace?

The tears that escaped your eyes fell a little more when you met Taehyung's gaze who looked almost as broken as you were.

"You were scared, weren't you?" He held your face with gentle hands. "But you did so well, sweetheart. You're alive," he whispered. "You're hurt and we have to get you to the hospital but you're alive, and that's all that matters right now."

"I...I-I...-" Words caught up in your own emotions through the hiccups that followed, Taehyung waited patiently for you to speak. "Tae..." You cried, tears spilling further more as you leaned against the palm of his hand and squeezed his hold so tightly. "Tae, I-I'm so scared."

"I know, I know," he acknowledged with a nod before unbuckling the seatbelt which strapped you to the seat. "Come here." It took a few seconds but he eventually got you over to his side, sitting you securely in his lap so that he could hold you and protect you from all harm. "You're alright," Taehyung promised so softly as he allowed you to lean against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. "You're okay now. I'm right here, I'm right here."

He should have prioritized this before trying to rush you off but who could blame him when your health was just as important? You were hurt after all. Though he'd never forgive himself if he wasn't there to make sure you knew you were safe again when he was the only husband there for you at the moment.

It took some time to calm you down but if it was for you, Taehyung would wait for a hundred years staying in that position just to make sure you felt okay again.

After a long session of crying, you finally fell asleep due to the overwhelming emotions you had just gone through. He brought you back over onto the passenger seat with careful consideration of not wanting to hurt and wake you up before checking his phone for all the missed calls and missed messages that were left from the other boys.

"Taehyung? Where are you?" The second he decided to call the leader, panic was clearly heard on the other line of the phone. "I've arrived at the scene and the police said you were on your way to bring Y/N to the hospital so the others went on ahead while me and Yoongi are taking care of things here. But the others have already arrived at the hospital and you're not there yet. Did something happen? Please tell me you're alright."

"Sorry." Taehyung let out a sigh, calmly ready to explain the situation unlike the panicked Namjoon. "I couldn't just bring Y/N over with the state she was in so we took a moment to let her calm down and breathe again."

"How is she?" Concern filled his voice.

With one glance your way, the younger one pressed his lips before replying. "She's asleep now but I'm sure it won't be long until she wakes from a nightmare." He adjusted his blazer on you, acting as a blanket, and put the seatbelt on you again. "I'm gonna head over now, I'll let you know any news but by then you'll probably arrive at the hospital with Yoongi."

You did wake up again, but only after Taehyung had already taken you to the hospital and you were moved to get treated by the doctor. So when you woke up to find yourself in an unfamiliar room, you began to grow scared once again and even the doctor couldn't help you calm down.

"Please, get Taehyung," you pled at her with trembling hands that held onto her lab coat. "I-I want to see Taehyung."

Where was he? He told you that he wasn't going to leave you alone so where was he? Why wasn't he there when you woke up?

"Please. Taehyung, where is he? Where is my husband? Where—"

"Y/N."

Your head instantly perked up at the familiar call and tears were quick to fall when you saw not only Taehyung but the rest of your husbands walking in through the door.

Taehyung rushed to hold you in his arms being as he was the last person you were with and restlessly calling for him when you woke. You sighed shakily in relief at the familiar feeling of his arms around you but it wasn't enough to keep the tears away.

They hated seeing you in the state you were in, hearts breaking into tiny pieces at the sound of your cries and the sight of your trembling body as you held onto Taehyung so tightly as if afraid he was going to disappear before your eyes if you didn't hold onto him tight enough.

It took a while but eventually you remembered the rest and was quick to reach out to them as well, panic and fear filling your eyes as you sought for their presence just to make sure they were there, right there, and that they weren't leaving any time soon.

Your legs were too shaky to walk on your own when the hospital discharged you that night so Jungkook had to carry you to the car in order to head home.

You fell asleep right there in his hold before he even reached the vehicle, hand holding tightly onto the blazer of his suit even through your dreams.

"She looks so worn out," Seokjin worried when they arrived back in the drive through of their home, the door of Jungkook's car opened ajar with you still deep in your slumber.

"She was shaking so uncontrollably," Jimin remembered.

"Can't blame her. Our little one was so scared," Taehyung said as Yoongi kept a steady gaze on your figure which leaned against the passenger seat, your under eyes red with a flushed nose and flushed cheeks along with trails of dried tears to remind them of how hard you had cried.

Namjoon walked up towards the open door, leaning in to unbuckle the seatbelt around you. He took a moment to caress your face, pressing a kiss to your cheeks, before taking ahold of you to carry you in his arms.

They followed him in while Taehyung stood still for a moment, retracing his memories back when you had been happily talking to him on the phone before the incident occurred. Did he do good enough being the one to have been by your side through it all? Or could he have done better?

"Whatever you're thinking, stop it."

He looked up at Hoseok's voice who stood a few feet away, looking back at him while the rest of them had already gone into the house. The older man had his brows creased, eyes sincere with a grave intent lying behind them.

"You did well by her side, Taehyung, we're thankful you had been there for her." He walked on over to him, taking long strides his way and stopping to stand right before the younger man. With hands held at either side on Taehyung's face, Hoseok rested their foreheads together with closed eyes and whispering words.

"Losing Y/N would have been horrible," he said, "I don't want to ever imagine a life without her. And losing you too? You'd break us, Kim Taehyung. So thank you, thank you for keeping calm and thank you for being the one to have been by our wife's side."

Taehyung's face contoured into a grieving mess, his walls broken down as he's finally able to let his emotions pour out whereas when he had been with you, he knew he had to stay strong for your sake.

But right now it was just the two of them, just him and Hoseok, so he no longer had to worry about staying strong and simply let his walls down while the older one held him tightly in his arms, holding onto Taehyung as he cried at the thought of having almost lost you.

[cloud9in]

You’re the only one who’s writing poppy x mc fics sooo, i have a request “ bea is a bad girl (like in a gang) in high school and also went jail couple of times for getting in trouble in high school senior year poppy was new transfer student and after 2 months bea join back school and met poppy bea and they just click yk like a connection slowly they started dating and in school everyone was shocked to see bea in a relationship ( bad girl and new girl) poppy is always worried about bea and few days before graduation bea got hurt really bad and poppy gives bea 2 options that she has to choose between her or her this (gang).. bea didn’t say anything to her so poppy left, after 2/3 years they met in college bea was a different person but so does poppy they become enemies (no one knows why they hate each other) one day they were arguing and poppy shout at her and says why you're back and bea put her hand on her cheek and smile and say i am here to win you back because i love you 😬

Promises (Poppy x MC)

Part 1/?

Can i just say I'm absolutely invested in this plot? You've got me hooked on my own story, as hectic as my life is, this is enjoyable to write. I hope you like it as well @iamsimpforpoppy

Word count: 1.8k (i got carried away)

“You know what to do Jackson, same old shit.”

“Yeah but it feels like a movie every damn time”, Bea responds confidently as she unbuckles her seatbelt. She sports a black mask with a yellow bandana, a vivacious color worn by only the Southside Spades, a notorious street gang who were known for robbery, and occasional blood.

Bea found herself wrapped up in the world of gangs when she turned sixteen. But before that the brunette would assist in transporting goods, also known as hardcore drugs. There was plenty enough to go around so Bea could indulge in any she wanted. Drugs didn’t give her the high she craved though, instead it was the thrilling game of cat and mouse with the cops.

Every now and then she’d get thrown in the slammer overnight. But this particular evening earns her one year in the NY State Penitentiary. See, the cops never gathered significant evidence to build a case against her, even though she was well aware of Detective Steinhelm who had some sick obsession with her. Following her everywhere, until Bea confronted her directly after noticing the same black sedan parked a street down from her house.

But she played the game right, and nothing ever led back to her. Until now.

“Where’s the money Bradley? I feel like I’ve been kissing your ass all week, the boss needs it now.”

A skinny blonde boy who looks like he had better days grunts in annoyance, “You’ll get your money...I’m just a little short right now.”

“Time’s up Ken doll, you know Carter will have your head for this.”

“Maybe he doesn’t have to know. Maybe this can be between us…”, Bradley strides carefully towards the blonde, a disturbing grin on his face which screams junkie. “Back the hell up now.”

Bea pulled her knife out with ease and pointed it towards him. She didn’t plan on actually using it. Murder was way out her budget for a simple money pickup but she knew that it would scare the boy easily. Except he kicked the blade out of her hold which prompted it to screech across the concrete before coming to a stop. Before Bea could think her fists reacted as she intercepted a punch that aimed straight for her jaw. She twists Bradley’s arm and he falls on his knees in pain. With his back to her, she kicks him down until he’s flat on his stomach.

“What is it exactly that you plan on doing now Bradley?” The blonde boy struggles under Bea’s foot but manages to reach around and slash at her ankle with a surprise shiv. Bea yelps in pain before kicking his head, rendering him unconscious.

“Stupid idiot. Had to make this harder than it should’ve been.”

Bea eventually finds the stash of money hidden under his mattress, an amateur hiding place at best. She congratulated herself for another job accomplished (kinda) and headed home. What the seventeen year old didn’t expect was the repulsive sound of a siren filling her ears as she stepped out onto her driveway. Her blood rushed to her head when she spotted Detective Steinhelm among the police officers surrounding her and retorts, “oh come on. I thought I told them about you harassing me. What do you want? Back here to strip search me again?”

The older woman only watches the blonde in eerie silence before smiling and gesturing to a police officer. “Beatriz Jackson you have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do can be used against you in a court of law-”

“What the actual fuck!” Bea yanks her arms out of the officers reach which initiates a struggle for dominance. This was nothing new to her, but it still felt sickening. Like she was some pet.

“You have the right to have a lawyer present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you if you so desire.” Detective Steinhelm finishes speaking and approaches the still scuffling blonde, “if you keep resisting I will tase you myself.”

Bea bites back the urge to headbutt the old hag right in her stupid face but she didn’t need any extra charges, for whatever the hell it was she was being charged for.

“Tell me why the fuck I am being arrested and I’ll calm down.”

That’s when Bea notices a familiar (bruised up) face from earlier. His smirk was enough to eat at her skin and she felt burning hot rage.

“Your blood was found at the scene of Mr. Denbroughs assault. You are being arrested in the case of second degree assault with intent to hurt someone with a deadly weapon.”

***

Bea only got one year in prison due to her kickass lawyer Ina Kingsley who played the minor card at every opportunity given. She also pointed out the fact that the knife wasn’t bloodstained, and Bradley never had any stab wounds so there is no proof the weapon was ever used against him. And it technically wasn’t. Good thing she didn’t bring a gun instead.

She did miss her 18th birthday though. And a few months of her senior year. But that’s what summer classes were for right?

All eyes were on the blonde when she returned, and whispers spread throughout the school about a certain new girl. Bea paid no mind to the fingers that pointed in her direction but the newcomer did manage to catch her attention, and pretty quick at that.

“Hey Jackson, how was solitary confinement?”

“I heard they make you use the bathroom right through the tiny food slot.”

Bea rolls her eyes and pelts a piece of not-so-fresh bread right at Ford’s head. The other people at the table join in on the laughter and Bea shakes her head and smiles, “it was Juvie you dumbass, and they made us sit in a circle together every Thursday like we were in an AA meeting.

“That’s jail for babies, goldilocks here wouldn’t last a minute in a real prison”, Carter joins them at the table with a cocky smirk, yet his eyes soften when landing on Bea. She shares a similar look with him knowing they’ll have a real conversation later. Because they definitely didn’t get to have that when Bea was getting dragged away to the police station in cuffs, and every event after that.

“It’s our girl’s first day out, we have to celebrate. And it’s not like she’s on probation...right Bea?”

“I do have a curfew, and I’m on juvenile probation so…when we partying?” The crew laughs as Bea shrugs. Her mother will deal with it. Zoey scoots in next to the blonde and wraps her arm around her shoulder in a side hug. “So glad to have you back Bea, and we are not risking you breaking parole so let’s just go to a sport’s bar tonight.”

Bea nods her head in agreement as the first warning bell goes off and everyone starts to clean up. Zoey taps on her arm and points towards one of the farther tables where a lone figure sits, wiping her hands with a napkin. All Bea saw were blonde tresses until she turned and they made brief eye contact.

“She’s the new girl, Poppy Min Sinclair. Rumor is she’s got a rich white daddy. You should totally invite her to the party.”

“And why would I do that?”

Zoey squints her eyes and leans in closer, her hands under chin in thought, “she seems like the broody type, you two would click.” She laughs at Bea’s comical expression but the blonde can’t bother to look in her direction, she’s way too wrapped up in what little the stranger a few tables away had to offer. She would sit on that thought, Bea was not one to shy away from anything.

***

The two became friends quicker than anyone could think.

One day after school, Poppy’s car wouldn’t start. It just didn’t comply. You would think she’d be poised and call her mechanic to come fix it, but instead the blonde slumped against the driver’s side window and let out a visibly frustrated, high-pitched yelp. Bea watched her pace around the car and even...kick?...the front bumper with her heels in efforts to wake it up.

“You know I may be wrong but I think that only makes it worse..” She approaches the helpless blonde with a small grin. Poppy’s persistence amazed her though, she’s never seen anyone determined to beat a car up. An expensive one at that.

“I hope you have some idea how to fix it, unless you’re here to waste my time and ask me on a date.”

Woah.

Okay that definitely threw Bea on a whim. She lets out a sharp laugh and bites her lips in amusement. She strolls towards the front of her car, holding Poppy’s gaze the whole way. She liked that the blonde didn’t avert her eyes. “And if I did? We couldn’t take your car of course, it’s obviously impaired.”

Poppy smiles and turns to look at Bea properly. She checks out every inch of her with no visible shame. An assessment so to say, and she likes what she sees.

“It’s your lucky day Poppy, I happen to know a thing or three about cars, and I desperately want to get this thing working so we can go on that date.” She winks playfully but god does she mean it. Bea silently prayed that the blonde wouldn’t take it the wrong way, but she knew she won when Poppy didn't protest, instead getting comfortable under some shade and holding her hand out, “the stage is all yours Jackson.”

***

“So what you’re trying to tell me is that I can’t jump over this obvious not-so-protected fence?”

“Judging by the sign right next to it that says...oh wow who would’ve thought, “DO NOT ENTER”, I don’t think so”, Poppy deadpans. It didn’t phase Bea of course because she was already halfway up the fence when the blonde turned away from the sign. The girl had a point to prove, maybe not a valid one, but still a point.

Poppy pinches her eyebrows in exasperation before looking back up to a nonchalant Bea swinging her legs from the top of the fence. She winks down at the blonde, “join me?”

Poppy didn’t expect to be climbing fences with a charismatic girl who had the same color hair as her when she moved schools, but she found herself embracing every moment of it. Although the trip up there was a struggle and some.

“I swear to god there’s a wire in my ass.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“And we’re both going to end up in the hospital. Get. me. Down.”

Bea tries to hold in her laughter the whole way down but lets it loose when she sees Poppy still up there, partly hovering in the air. “Pops...I’ll catch you, don't worry. Climb down slowly.” She doesn’t. But Bea had her feet planted and ready because any moment with the sassy blonde was unpredictable.  And she loved it. Especially because she had Poppy engulfed in her arms and they were so close their noses touched.

Bea promised herself she’d kiss the girl next time.

***

“You’re...in a gang?”

Bea felt a clasp of cold air enter her lungs as she stared ahead. It wasn’t like she could hide it from Poppy. She has a reputation, and word has gotten around about the two getting close. This was just like that one time at the end of sophomore year where Bea met Kelly Hall, a beautiful girl with golden rimmed glasses. Unfortunately she only could imagine what could’ve been after whispers ended up right on the doorstep of Kelly’s parents, and she suddenly changed her number, and switched out of every class she had with Bea.

The blonde didn’t want to entertain the thought of Poppy doing the same, but this was a lifestyle she chose.

“I mean...how?”

Bea sighs and turns to look at her, “I fell into the wrong crowd. Or maybe it’s the right one because I never found a true home until I met them. They’re family, I wouldn’t expect you to get it though and I understand if you want to distance-”

“I of all people know what it’s like to not fit in Jackson. You’ve found people who make you feel safe. Maybe I don’t agree with the troubles that come with being in a gang but I don’t know the whole story.”

“Do you want to?”

Poppy wraps her arms around Bea’s and lays her head on her shoulder, “I want to know that you won’t get yourself hurt but I know that’s nearly impossible.”

Bea exhales slowly, not knowing what to say. She knew that this would upset Poppy but her acceptance meant more. She didn’t know what this would mean for the two of them, if there was a “them”, but she felt more encouraged to share more of her other life with the blonde.

“Just promise me one thing Jackson.”

“Yeah?”

Poppy’s voice comes out softer than expected, and Bea ingests every emotion that comes with it, “Promise me you won’t ever put yourself in a position where you have to choose between me or the gang.”

Bea finds her hand in the space where their thighs touched and latches onto it like a lifebuoy,

“I promise.”

***

“I just remembered something Poppy.”

“What, that you have half a brain cell? I thought that was established Jackson.”

Bea launches a pillow that (purposely) misses Poppy’s head by an inch. If she actually hit her and frizzed up her locks then she’d never hear, or see..or walk again.

“I’m being serious. I just remembered this too, we never went on that car date we talked about.”

Poppy squints her eyes in confusion, but was fully aware of what Bea was referring to. “You mean the first time we met?”

The blonde smiles to herself as she replayed that day in her head over and over again. She couldn’t decide if Bea’s openly flirty behavior is what drew her in or if it was her ability to fix any of her possessions with ease. And for free.

Bea pulls Poppy up by her hands until her back is against the lockers. Another perfect opportunity for the blonde to make do of that promise she made to herself, but something told her to wait just a bit longer. “So what do you say? Poppy Min Sinclair, will you go on a date with me?”

Poppy rolls her eyes playfully, pulling Bea in closer by the collar of her letterman, “now who’s being dramatic?”

“I didn’t hear a no”

“I think you know what the answer is.”

That night Zoey helped Bea prep for her first date with the girl that she could say she was almost in love with. The taller girl brushed some dust off of Bea’s jacket and planted her hands on her shoulders, “remember Jackson, give her the ride of her life. And I mean that in every way possible.”

Thanks Zoe.

Bea watched Poppy drive up in front of her house and something inside her mind couldn’t deny the pang her heart let out when she saw Poppy smile the way she did.

Bea took control of the driving and told Poppy to recline her seat and enjoy the ride, with her seatbelt on of course. Safe sacrifices. They cruised through an empty highway blasting Poppy’s spotify playlist named “Rich Bitch Songs” because that was their ideal perfect date. It’s amazing that the two could even come to an agreement, but here we are.

She watched the beautiful blonde sing her lungs out and couldn’t help but mirror her joy, taking her hands off the steering wheel. The pump of adrenaline prompts a new excitement in the air and Poppy wraps Bea into a secure hug, her hair flying wildly with the wind. Bea slows the car down but the rapid beating of her heart made it seem they were going 100 miles per second.

“I feel so alive Jackson.”

Bea stared at the girl in the passenger seat with a look that could only be described as love.

“You make me feel alive.”

Poppy kept talking and Bea found a way to focus on both the road and the blonde next to her. Because when you truly enjoy something, you’ll find a way to keep experiencing it. And Bea enjoyed hearing Poppy’s voice, she loved everything about her.

“I feel like kissing you.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“...Nothing. I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

They kiss when Bea pulls over.  A hot feeling consumes them like fire when their tongues collide and Bea plants her hands around Poppy’s hips, pushing her back into her seat until she’s on top. The windows easily start to fog up in reaction to the heat, and not once did they take their hands off each other.

Promise 1/2 kept

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End Note: This chapter was to build their relationship, more angst incoming. BIG THANKS to @somewillwin for letting me use Jackson <3333

Taglist: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme @baexpoppy @poppysmc @doey-eyes8 @veenast @straightlikewetspaghetti @phoennixxsblog @a-ghost-girl

[lueurjun]

𝖱𝖮𝖠𝖣 𝖳𝖮 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖤. 𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗎𝗇

“=⌕ sim jaeyun x gn!reader. 

⌗ SUMMARY — becoming a tiktoker was never apart of the plan, but here you are, 4 million followers and a love for pranking your boyfriend. 

. . ⇢ LUEURJUN’S NOTES — this is supposed to be gender neutral but if i slipped up at any point then i do sincerely apologise. this probably won’t be written the best, i was kinda sick and had a moment of inspiration. this is super fluffy and cheesy, so brace yourself. 

₊❏❜ WARNING ⋮ uh tears of joy?? i guess.

2021 @lueurjun.

i. 

THE 30TH APRIL 2020 was the day that your life changed in ways that you used to believe only happened in movies. 

Honestly, setting up your phone and telling your devilishly handsome, yet so pure, so innocent boyfriend that you wanted to have a child—whether that be adoption plans or getting pregnant—it was a small prank you decided to pull and film for your group chat. You never had any intentions of uploading it onto the internet, until Jay, one of your closest friends, suggested that you posted it to Tiktok. 

Jake was cool with it, having not expected it to blow up as much as it did. Nobody had expected for you to get over 2 million views and over 600k likes on your first video. Nor did you expect the heaps of requests in your comment section of different pranks to pull on your boyfriend. And that’s where it began. 

That one video was a rabbit hole into what quickly became your career. 

Now, with over 4 million followers, you have created your own little fan base, who have grown to love you, your boyfriend and even your friends that occasionally end up in your videos.

ii. 

The light in the kitchen flickered once as you set up your phone against a bunch of cookbooks that your parents had yet to read. Mentally, you made a note to ask one of your family members to change the bulb when they returned home. Focusing on your phone, which was now recording, you put your thumbs up and turned towards the door.

“JAEYUN!” Your voice echoed through the quiet home, bouncing off every wall until it met your boyfriend’s ears. Brief shuffling could be heard followed by the padding of feet across the floor boards. He was only in the next room, so it didn’t take long for him to appear right before your eyes. 

The first thing your eyes set on was the crinkles in his shirt, suggesting that he had been laying down. His dark hair was hidden beneath a black hat, which he had placed on his head backwards. He was dressed so simple, but you still managed to fall in love once again at the sight of him. You often wondered how you had managed to bag someone like Jake, he was the epitome of perfection and you couldn’t really see why he would want to be with you. Jake never let these thoughts ponder in your mind for too long, since he was always quick to prove to you that you’re everything to him. 

Secretly eyeing the camera, you put on a pout and fiddle with the hem of his shirt. Immediately, the alarm bells go off in Jake’s mind. You’re never normally this quiet and it’s rare to see you pout. He frowns a little, eyebrows knitting together as concern washes over his face. Using his index finger and his thumb, he lifts your chin and gently rubs the skin just below your lip.

“What’s the matter?” 

“I just- don’t get mad,” you begin, forcing yourself to sound sad. “But I just think you could’ve been a little bit nicer to me today.”

He had been nothing but an angel to you all day, and you felt horrendous for making him think otherwise, but alas, Tiktok had spoken and they wanted you to do this prank. So, as bad as you felt, it wouldn’t cause much harm. 

“Did I do something to upset you?” He looks genuinely hurt by his own actions and guilt immediately tugs at your heart strings.

You shrug and avert your gaze downwards, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your feet. This was partly to stop yourself from giving in too quickly, you’d always been a sucker for Jake’s puppy dog eyes and you knew if you looked into them any longer, you would stop the prank.  

Jake cocks his head to the side and steps closer to you, nuzzling his nose against the side of your head. You feel his breath fan over your ear and you swear your heart stops beating for a second. His fingers trail over your waist and he plants the softest kiss to the side of your head. 

“I just feel like you’ve been a little mean to me today,” you continue. And he nods his head in understanding, though you know he doesn’t understand at all. Jake doesn’t know what he’s done wrong, but if you think he hasn’t been nice to you then he’s not going to argue. 

“I’m sorry, can you tell me what I did to make you feel this way?” 

You lean your head against his chest and bite your lip, it’s hard to contain your smile. With his sweet response mixed with the scent of his cologne fogging up your brain, you have a hard time holding onto your act and he quickly notices. 

“Is this a prank?” He asks, pulling away from you. 

You let the giggles slip from your mouth and nod towards the phone, that you had done your best to hide. Jake turns, his hand still on your waist, and he looks for the camera. Once his eyes land on his figure, he throws his head back and a breathy laugh falls from his lips.

“I should’ve known.” 

Yes, yes he should’ve but you still made up for it with plenty of kisses. 

iii. 

Picking Jake up from football practice had become a ritual. 

You didn’t need to be asked anymore, you’re just always there waiting for him and he loves that. The excited smile on his face whenever he sees you patiently sitting behind the wheel never gets old. Picking him up, as sad as it sounds, has become your drive to get through Tuesdays. They’re not your favourite day of the week, but knowing you get to see a smiley, yet sweaty, Sim Jaeyun at the end of the day gives you more than enough motivation. 

Just like any other Tuesday, you’re waiting. You like to get there early and so, you have about fifteen more minutes until you see your favourite boy walking through the gate. Music plays softly in the background as you lean back and scroll through your comment sections—people are so sweet, though you do get a bitter taste in your mouth when you see people fawning over your boyfriend like he’s a piece of cake. 

You ignore the thirst comments and look through the requests. Not many catch your eye, until you come across a particular one and a smirk appears on your face.  

Fifteen minutes turns into twenty and finally you see your worn out boyfriend heading towards your car. As tired as he never fails to smile and pick up his pace. He pulls open the door and slips inside. You reach over and greet him with a chaste kiss before pulling away.

“How was practice?” 

“Exhausting. Can we take a nap together when we get to your place?” He asks whilst adjusting his seatbelt. 

A nap sounds amazing, and you waste no time in nodding your head. “Before we go, I went shopping today. I picked you up a few things, let me show you.” 

He melts then and there. Reaching back, you grab one of the bags and aggressively tug it towards you, making sure you hit Jake on the side of the head. He hisses and turns to look at you. 

You don’t even apologize. 

“No this isn’t it,” you mumble to yourself. 

You grip the bag and throw it back where you got it from, once again making sure to slap your boyfriend with it. He stares at you, annoyed with your aggressiveness, though you don’t look back at him and instead, you hit him a third time with a new bag but you instantly regret it. You ended up attacking him with the new pair of shoes you treated yourself to and you can tell this one pained him.

Quickly giving up on the prank, you drop the bag and reach over to rub the back of his head. “I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean to hit you that hard.” 

He whips his head towards you, looking at you as though you had just murdered an entire family in front of him. “What? So you meant to hit me?” 

You drop your hand and retreat back to your seat, attempting to look innocent. Jake then finds your phone, which is pointing right at him and he sees that it’s recording. You feel guilty, having not meant to hurt him so hard, you can’t meet his eye. You are about to start driving again, when you feel an impact on your arm and a yelp parts from your mouth. 

Jake sits beside you, a smile on his face and a bag clutched in his hand. You scowl and he only grins wider. 

“Now we’re even.” 

Oh, he is evil. 

iv. 

On the 10th May 2021, you hit 5 million followers. 

It was a shock, you rarely kept track of your follower count because you weren’t really in it for that ( though you are grateful for every single person that supports you ) so, you really hadn’t been expecting to hit such a huge milestone. In fact, you were so unexpectant, that you were sleeping at the time. 

“BABY!” Your eyes flew open as the bed shook. Jake had jumped on the bed, plastering kisses all over your face. “You hit 5 mill!” 

Disoriented, you blink. “Pardon?” 

Jake chuckles at your sleepy state, even with messy hair and puffy eyes, he thinks you look so attractive. His dark eyes trail over your features as he uses his thumb to rub underneath your eye, almost like he was trying to wipe away your sleepiness. 

“You hit 5 million followers, you did it.” His voice is softer this time, quieter but still filled with enthusiasm. You gape at him, and he laughs. 

“I did?” You ask, pointing to yourself. 

He nods. “You did.” 

The realisation crashes down at you at once and suddenly, you feel your nose sting as tears form in your eyes. Your fingers curl around the fabric of your boyfriend’s shirt whilst the other hand comes up to cover your mouth. Stray tears drop down onto your skin. You can’t believe it. 5 million people followed you. They like your content.

Jake coos at the tears that leak from your eyes like a waterfall. He’s quick to wipe them away, before he presses a kiss to your wet cheek. He’s proud and he’s filled with pride, his baby got 5 million followers and he couldn’t wait to brag to everyone about how talented and cool you are. That’s his favourite thing to do. Jake loves to brag about you. 

You sniffle and press your hands against his cheeks. Gently, you rub your nose against his own. “We did it. It’s your account just as much as it is mine, I wouldn’t have got this far without you. After all, you’re my main prank victim. So, we did it. We hit 5 million together.” 

You weren’t taking all of the credit, Jake was just as involved as you and he deserves the praise. You had done this together. 

“You do know Jay is never going to let you forget that he was the one who suggested uploading it to TikTok...right?” 

You laugh, nodding your head. “Yep. I know he’s gloating in the group chat, right now.” 

And he was. Jay was so proud of you and Jake, but most of all, he was proud of himself because without him, you would have never uploaded that first video. So, you let him have his moment. 

“To millions more!” Jake cheers as he lifts the pizza in his hand, the two of you had decided to celebrate with a victorious take away and a movie marathon. 

“To millions more,” you repeat softly. 

Whether you had 0 followers or 5 million, as long as Sim Jaeyun was by your side, you didn’t mind.

[edendaphne]

“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 20

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

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CHAPTER 20: PRESTISSIMO

 Music glossary:

 Prestissimo - "Extremely quickly”; to be played as fast as possible

* Fun tidbit:  The name “Gaspard” means "bringer of treasure" *

–––––

(Mood Music: “Dead Things” - Philip Glass)

Adrien cursed into his gag, feebly squirming on the back seat of the car he’d been dragged into. The windows were heavily tinted, so there was no chance that anyone would be able to see him. Not that that mattered right now anyway, as he couldn’t even sit up at the moment. In fact, he couldn’t feel any of his appendages due to whatever drug his bodyguard (or... whoever he was) had injected into him.

One thing was certain: since neither of these men was the real Gaspard, they must be akumas, and his father had used their likeness to trick him.

Damn it. Why had he left his guard down back there? He should’ve known not to trust anyone. And now thanks to his idiocy, Marinette had gotten dragged into this giant mess, and he had no idea where “Fake-Gaspard #2” had taken her. He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to her. He seethed silently, consumed by fear and anger, both simultaneously raging for control.

He could feel Plagg behind him trying to fiddle with the zip ties that bound his arms together; but it wasn’t as simple as merely unlocking a safe or a door. Having Plagg with him was his only ace in the hole, so he had to remain hidden. Adrien had to plan his escape carefully for when the effects of the drug had worn off enough. Even if Plagg wasn’t able to remove the ties, he could still unlock the car door, so Adrien could roll out and... hopefully not be crushed to death by traffic. He let out a muffled grumble.

Okay... maybe that wasn’t the best idea.

He had to do something soon though; there wasn’t much time left before they arrived back at the Agreste mansion, and the only feeling he’d regained was in his hands and feet. He supposed he should consider himself lucky. If the dosage had been any higher, it could’ve interfered with his lungs, or worse.

Not that Father would care, he huffed impassively. If anything, it would get him out of the picture permanently, and he’d no longer be an inconvenience to Hawkmoth’s schemes.

Adrien’s thoughts drifted back to Marinette; worry and anxiety about what had happened to his beloved roommate clouded his mind, interfering with his concentration. He replayed her scuffle with the bodyguards over and over in his head, the overwhelming feelings of guilt and shame causing his entire being to ache in agony and self-loathing. This was all his fault. He was pathetic. Degraded from superhero to hostage with no one but himself to blame.

If Gabriel locked him away, would he ever find out what happened to her? Memories of being locked in a small, almost completely barren room for days at a time as punishment for misbehavior flashed in his mind, causing his insides to churn and his hands to get clammy. He fought the panic that threatened to boil over within him and firmly shoved the memories away. He needed his wits about him at the moment, and getting sucked into a spiral of panic would prevent him from being able to think logically.

His thoughts were interrupted as the car screeched to a halt, and had his Not-Bodyguards not partially strapped him into the lap seatbelts, he would’ve been thrown onto the floor from the momentum. He managed to turn his head and shake it slightly to try to get the hair out of his eyes, letting out a small grunt of puzzlement. What was happening??

His confusion didn’t last long.

An enormous force hurtled down from the sky onto the hood of the car, squashing it like an empty aluminum can, crushing the engine and rendering it useless. Once the dust and debris settled, Adrien peeked as high as he could, trying to catch a glimpse of what had landed on the car. Despite his meager view from the back seat, coupled with his blurry eyesight (as he’d lost his eyeglasses sometime during the scuffle), he could still make out the unmistakable red boots and black leggings that stood on top of the broken metal.

A million questions swirled around in his head in a jumbled tornado of confusion and elation. He tried calling out her name, having completely forgotten that he couldn’t, and he doubled his efforts trying to squirm out of his bindings so he could get her attention.

His endeavors were cut short though. Despite his impaired vision, he saw the distinct glowing masks form in front of the men’s faces.

I knew it!! he thought, glaring at them with distaste.

They rushed out of the car without a word, and he couldn’t help but utterly loathe the thought of Ladybug fighting both of them by herself, despite her partner being mere feet away, albeit totally useless.

God, I hate being a damsel in distress, he frowned. I hope she’s gonna be okay.

In a vicious display of skill that shocked onlookers, barely a minute later Ladybug had the two men strung up with her yo-yo from a street light. They hung several feet above the ground, expressions slightly miffed but otherwise still rather blank, which, for an akuma, was unusual to say the least.

“Ugh, not in here either,” Ladybug remarked crossly, discarding a broken watch onto the floor, joining the plethora of other torn items and belongings scattered all around them. “Where the hell is it?!” she grumbled after tearing a shoe in half and still not seeing any blackened butterflies.

She frowned, twisting her mouth in annoyance. If I keep going like this, they’ll end flashing all of Paris, she thought. Best to turn them over to the authorities and continue this search at the police station. She needed to check on Adrien anyway.

Right on cue, the police arrived and secured the area. After making sure the police had a handle on the situation, Ladybug rushed to the busted car to retrieve Adrien.

She jerked the car door open––or rather, tried to– accidentally yanking the entire door handle off and warping the metal of the door itself. She cursed in irritation, deciding to bypass the door altogether, and leaped onto the top of the car. With a strained heave, she peeled off the entire roof like a can opener, all the while muttering a colorful string of expletives Adrien had never heard his mild-mannered, even-tempered partner say before.

She dropped down next to him onto the back seat, releasing the seatbelts and assisting Adrien into a seated position. She reached up to touch his face, apologizing sheepishly before carefully peeling off the tape that covered his mouth.

Despite the gag being gone, Adrien remained speechless, staring at Ladybug with an intensity she’d never seen coming from him before. With a small, flustered stutter, she summoned a Lucky Charm. A pair of small, polka-dotted scissors landed onto the palm of her hand. She made quick work of his bindings and briefly inspected the red marks on his skin to make sure he was unharmed.

Adrien threw his arms around her, bringing her into a bone crushing hug, his entire body shaking like a leaf.

“Oh, Adrien,” she whispered, her voice still a bit raspy, and squeezed back firmly. “I’m so glad I found you. I was so scared.”

He didn’t reply, as he was near-hyperventilating, but his grip around her shoulders tightened and he buried his head into her neck, seeking comfort.

A few moments later, Ladybug gently lifted Adrien out of the car, careful not to touch the jagged metal edges. She hopped down to the ground and gingerly sat him on a nearby bench. He wobbled unsteadily, but managed to stay upright as she examined him.

“How are you feeling? Can you tell me what happened?” she asked, seemingly snapping him out of a haze.

Without a word, his head whipped up and his eyes developed a determined glint. He shot up to his feet– or, at least, he attempted to– barely managing to take a single wobbly step before crumpling onto the ground.

“Adrien!!” Ladybug called out as she halfway caught him. “Are you injured?! What’s happened to your legs?”

“Paralyzing drug,” Adrien slurred. “I’ll be fine,” he continued as he clumsily broke away from her hold, successfully taking a couple of shaky steps forward.

Ladybug exclaimed, horrified, “They drugged you?! What did they want?” She stepped in front of him, placing her hands gently on his chest, halting his attempt to flee. “Where are you going?? You’re in no condition to be running around right now, we need to take you to a hospital!”

Adrien shook his head, his tone becoming increasingly desperate, his pace becoming faster and more frantic as he stumbled ahead. “No no, please, I need to go look for her!”

“What’s wrong?” Ladybug asked, perplexed. “Look for who?” she said as she rushed beside him.

“I have to go back!” he pleaded. “I have to make sure she’s okay! She could be in danger, I need to find her!”

At this point, they’d reached a grassy portion of an adjacent park, and the uneven ground caused him to trip over himself. He cried out as he fell on top of Ladybug, who had surged forward to catch him.

“Please…” he looked down at her, barely able to hold himself up with his arms in their weakened state. “I have to find Marinette. She got hurt trying to save me,” he uttered quietly, his voice quivering and eyes glossy. “If anything happened to her, I don’t think I could–” his voice cracked, unable to continue. He inhaled slowly, then uttered with a trembling voice, “Please, I need to go back. She’s really important to me, I can’t go anywhere else until I know she’s alright.”

Ladybug’s face softened, touched by his concern. “She’s fine!” she blurted out. “Marinette’s fine!”

Adrien gave her a puzzled look. “What?? But how do you know?”

She attempted to give him a reassuring smile, trying her hardest to avoid looking like a demented clown. Think, you knucklehead, think!! Ladybug screamed inwardly in a panic.

“Uhh, she’s the one who contacted me!” she lied, then lowered her voice, as if she were letting him in on some forbidden knowledge. “She’s been secretly helping me and Chat Noir, so I gave her a way to contact me privately in case of emergency. But of course, this has to remain a secret; so please don’t tell anyone.” She helped him to a sitting position on the ground and added, “Can I trust you with this?”

Adrien’s face and posture relaxed, his eyebrows upturned with both amazement and affection. “Always,” he breathed out softly. “You can count on me, always,” he murmured, a kind smile etched on his handsome face as he reached for her hand and squeezed.

Ladybug smiled fondly in return, remembering why it had been so easy to fall in love with him several years ago. He was truly a selfless and sweet person at heart.

He lifted his hand up to her face, rubbing his thumb across a cut on her lower lip and wiping away a spot of blood which, unbeknownst to him, she’d gotten as Marinette. Her breath hitched, face suddenly feeling rather warm.

“It seems like we always meet under less than ideal circumstances,” Adrien chuckled softly. “Fate has a cruel sense of humor sometimes. I’m sorry.”

Ladybug’s stomach tingled, a sense of familiarity descending on her yet again. She must have been staring because Adrien swiftly withdrew his hand with a quick apology, muttering sheepishly how he’d never been very good at recognizing the need for personal space.

Not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable, Ladybug forced herself to pretend to have a functioning brain and smiled politely, helping him to stand and letting him use her as a support. “It’s okay, no worries!” she added amiably. “Would you let me take you back to the school? My yo-yo’s better than a taxi, or so I hear.”

He grinned widely, then nodded. “Yeah. I’d appreciate it.”

Ladybug picked him up, acutely aware that crowds were beginning to gather around the area. As she was about to take off with Adrien, she heard one of the cops call out her name.

“What is it, Officer Raincomprix? Do you have the situation under control? I’m taking Adrien back to the school to get him checked out by a medical professional. You can get a statement from him there, away from the public and from–” she added, an annoyed crinkle forming on her forehead “–from all the reporters. Be on the lookout for any possible akuma.”

Officer Roger Raincomprix’s face was one of pure bewilderment. “Uh– well, ma’am, something’s happened. I’m not sure how to explain. You’d better come take a look for yourself.”

Ladybug and Adrien exchanged puzzled glances, then she nodded as she and Adrien made their way to where she’d detained the kidnappers.

Upon arriving back at the scene of the battle, Ladybug gasped, almost dropping Adrien in shock, with a look on her face like she’d just witnessed an alien invasion.

“WHERE ARE THEY?!” she shrieked. “How did they escape?!?”

“We’re not sure,” Officer Roger stated. “Somebody caught it on camera, maybe you can get some clues from the video.” He called over one of the cameramen from a local news crew. “Rewind it, please,” he instructed him.

Ladybug and Adrien stared at the tiny screen in awe. The two men had been released from the lamppost and were being walked towards the police car in handcuffs. Once they’d almost reached the vehicle, they halted mid-step, then fell to the ground, faces twisting in agony, and they let out a bloodcurdling wail, like their insides were being ripped apart. A cloud of dark, indigo smoke engulfed them, obscuring them completely; and when it cleared, there was nothing.

Ladybug gaped in total confusion. “So they just… disappeared??” she cried. “Vanished without a trace??”

The officer shook his head. “Not entirely. These were left behind,” he added, presenting two small, white feathers.

Ladybug accepted them, even more confused than before. “And you’re absolutely certain you saw no akumas leave their bodies?”

Roger nodded. “Positive. There was nothing else. We’re searching the area for clues; we’ll let you know if we find anything.”

Ladybug exhaled sharply, feeling like she’d been thrown into a freezing lake, the tiny hairs at the back of her neck standing on end. What in the world was happening??

(Mood Music: Ballet from “Orpheus and Eurydice" - Christoph Gluck)

By the time Ladybug had gotten Adrien situated at the school nurse’s, the effects of whatever neuromuscular drug he’d been injected with had waned somewhat, and he’d regained most of the feeling and mobility in his limbs. Since he waved off the need to actually lie down in one of the beds, she helped him sink into a small sofa, adjusting the pillows, fussing over him, asking if he needed a blanket or something to drink. All the while, he kept trying to reassure her that he was fine (although his face did look a bit flushed during this exchange, which didn’t ease her apprehensions).

As the nurse examined his vitals and gave him a quick check-up, Ladybug’s thoughts slowly shifted from doting concern to one of regret and guilt. This was all her fault. She should have listened to Tikki and transformed instead of rushing in headfirst without knowing the full situation.

Her earrings rang out their second beep, reminding her that her time was beginning to run short. She knew she needed to part ways, but a pressing question rooted her to the spot. She couldn’t leave just yet. Not until she knew.

Adrien must’ve sensed her discomfort; as soon as the nurse excused herself to fill out a health report and speak to the police, he touched her arm and asked quietly, “Is everything okay?” He motioned for her to sit next to him, patting the cushion with a friendly gesture.

She complied, trying to appear as calm as possible as she took a seat. “Well, it’s about… earlier,” she began hesitantly, then lowered her head to whisper, “Do you think this had anything to do with those photos of us from a few months back, when we went to the movies together? Maybe the pictures got leaked after all, and the wrong people got ahold of them. I can’t help but feel like that’s why you were targeted.”

Adrien’s eyes popped wide open as he jerked his head up. “Oh, no!! No, it wasn’t!” Adrien replied, arms waving in emphatic denial. He tried to calm his voice again as he continued to insist, “Believe me, it’s not connected to that at all!”

“What?? B-but how are you sure? You can be honest with me; you don’t have to downplay it for my sake,” she insisted. “I accept all responsibility for everything that happened that evening. I should’ve known it was too dangerous and that it would put you at risk. I just want to fix things and make sure what happened today won’t ever happen again.”

“The timing was just a coincidence, I promise,” Adrien assured her, reaching forward and giving her shoulder a squeeze. “This has nothing to do with you... and everything to do with my father,” he added darkly.

Ladybug’s jaw dropped as a realization dawned on her. “Oh no, your father… he’s going to be so upset!! The police have probably already notified him, he must be worried sick!” Ladybug groaned in dismay, her head dropping into her hands, entirely missing the way Adrien’s eyes rolled sardonically. “Would it help if I escorted you to your home myself? Just to make absolutely sure that you arrive home safely? It’s no trouble, really! I’d just need to go recharge real quick and–”

Adrien looked like he’d just been set on fire. “NO!!!’ he cut her off, unable to keep the terror out of his voice. “Please, don’t!!”

Ladybug recoiled back like she’d been slapped in the face, utterly bewildered at his response. Adrien’s hands began to tremble, and he gripped the fabric of his pants to try to keep them still.

“Uhh, what I meant to say was, ‘no thank you, that won’t be necessary.’ M-my Father is, uhh... very particular. Fastidious, really. Someone will drive me back.” He grimaced as if his words tasted bitter, then he exhaled, seeming to compose himself. “I appreciate the offer, it’s very kind of you. But there’s really no need.”

“I… b-but…” she stammered, twiddling with the hem of her skirt, unconvinced. “Are you absolutely, positively sure you’ll be alright?”

Adrien nodded. “I’ll be fine. Trust me.”

Ladybug let out a deep sigh. “Well… alright. Sorry I kept pushing, it’s just…” She bit her lip, trying not to think about the chillingly blank stares of the impostor bodyguards. “It’s just that those men were no ordinary akumas. Actually, I don’t even know if they were ever really human in the first place. Or akumas. Something is very wrong here. I don’t like it.”

She felt Adrien shuffle nervously beside her, and her posture straightened like she’d been smacked with a rod, her head whipping up to meet Adrien’s concerned eyes again.

“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t be blabbing all this stuff to you, especially after what you’ve just been through. You’re safe now and I’ll make sure it stays that way, alright? I swear it! So, please try not to worry about it. I’ll discuss this incident with Chat Noir and see if he knows anything about this weird phenomenon, okay? We’ll protect you.” She grinned and took his hands into hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.

An odd look crossed his face, but it shifted into a cordial smile before she could think much of it. “Right. Thanks, Ladybug. I’m sorry you had to get dragged into this.”

Ladybug sputtered, “Not at all! Please don’t be sorry! It’s my job! I was happy to do so! W-well, I mean– not happy you almost got– I mean, obviously not that, but happy that you... that I—“ she stopped her ramblings with a loud, embarrassed facepalm. “Ow. Anyway, you know what I mean,” she finished with a self-deprecating grin.

Adrien was about to reply when the door to the infirmary swung open, crashing into the adjacent wall with a loud bang.

“ADRIEN!!! BRO, ARE YOU OKAY??!” a despondent-sounding Nino rushed to his side, throwing his arms around him without even noticing Ladybug’s presence, a concerned Alya following closely behind.

Adrien hugged him back, touched at his concern. “Nino!! Boy, am I glad to see you! I’m fine, really!”

“You’re not hurt?? You’re really okay?!”

“Of course! I’m fine now, all thanks to Ladybug and Mar— wait…” His head whipped around the room, squinting his eyes as he searched (the action reminding Ladybug that Adrien’s glasses were still missing). “Where’s Marinette? She’s not with you guys?”

Ladybug let out an odd squeak, then tried covering it up with a cough.

Alya shook her head. “I tried calling her, but there’s been no answer. But someone pulled the fire alarm and called the cops, so maybe that was her? I was able to squeeze some info out of one of the officers. He said a young woman called and claimed she saw Adrien Agreste get taken away in a vehicle against his will. He mentioned that she sounded out of breath, almost like she was running or chasing after them. If that doesn’t sound like Marinette, then I don’t know what does.”

Adrien bit the side of his cheek, brows upturned in concern. “She saw us and tried fighting the assailants. She could be injured, I have to go find her,” he said as he stood up, still wobbly but able to do it unassisted.

“NO!!” Ladybug yelped, leaping off the sofa like it was made of hot coals, and they all looked up at her. “I mean, you shouldn’t push yourself. D-don’t worry, I’m sure she’s on her way! You should stay here so she knows where to find you! No sense in having you both running around and potentially missing each other, right?”

Adrien crossed his arms, not quite convinced, but deciding to follow her instructions. “Well… I-I guess. We should try her cell phone again.”

Ladybug continued, words dribbling out like a broken faucet, “Anyhoo, my earrings are about to beep again, so I’d better get going! But you all know how to get a hold of me if anything happens, right guys? Right?? Right... Anyway, bug out!!”

And with that, Ladybug scampered away like a white rabbit late for a tea party.

A few minutes later (the entirety of which Adrien spent answering Nino and Alya’s worried queries as well as filling out a police report) a rather rumpled-looking Marinette quietly entered the room, not wanting to interrupt.

She didn’t stay undetected for long, however. Upon seeing her, Adrien’s features morphed from surprise into joy, followed by relief, then concern. He’d never seen her look quite so… tired .

He must’ve uttered her name out loud because she approached them sheepishly. “Umm… hi. S-sorry, it took me a little while to walk back to the school and my phone ran out of battery on the way. Are you oka––”

Adrien sprung off his seat and shuffled towards her, halfway dragging his still-sluggish legs. He threw his arms around her, clutching her as tight as he could, as if she might disappear again at any second.

“Marinette, thank God,” he cooed, gently cradling the back of her head. “I don’t know how to thank you. If it hadn’t been for you, I would’ve been–”

“You would’ve done the same for me,” she said as she embraced him with matching fervor. “I’m just glad you’re okay now.”

They felt a large thwump as someone wrapped their arms around them, followed by another set of arms joining the pile.

“This most definitely calls for a group hug,” Nino said, squeezing hard.

“Especially after what Adrien told us happened,” Alya added. “Girl, you are so brave! I’m so proud of you!! Ladybug and Chat Noir better watch out or you’ll be stealing their jobs soon!” Adrien heard Marinette let out an amused snort as he and Nino chimed in in agreement.

Now that the danger had passed and the adrenaline had subsided, a moment of calm was exactly what they needed.

As the group pulled apart and he was able to get a better look at her, it was then that Adrien noticed how truly beaten up Marinette appeared, physically. Her hair was out of place, her clothes torn in a few spots, her usual hair accessory was missing, and she was covered in grime, cuts, and bruises.

“Oh, Mari…” he whispered sadly as he slowly turned her head by the chin, gently thumbing a large cut on her lips and ghosting the tips of his fingers over a darkening black eye, moving her hair out of the way.

Marinette then realized that, in the midst of all the commotion, Ladybug had forgotten to use her Miraculous Cure.

Damn it! Screwed up yet another thing today.

She wondered if she could summon another Lucky Charm later today and try to fix things then . She’d never tried using a Lucky Charm outside of battle once the danger had already passed. Would it even work?

Marinette winced. “That bad, eh? Do I have to wear a paper bag over my head for a few days to avoid frightening the children of Paris?” she joked. She instinctively stuck out her tongue to search for the cut on her lip, then flinched when the wetness of her saliva made it sting.

Adrien frowned. “Nonsense. Here,” he said, leading her by the hand back to the sofa. After she sat down, he began gathering some of the first aid materials that the nurse had left on the countertop, then rummaged through the drawers and cupboards for more.

Marinette let out a flustered squeak as he brought the supplies over and pulled up a chair, sitting across from her.

“Oh! Don’t worry about it, it’s totally not necessary,” she said, holding her hands up. “I can take care of it later, it’s no big deal, you should really get some rest–”

Adrien leaned forward in his seat, reaching for her hand. “Please. Let me do this.” he murmured, insistent. “It’s the least I can do.”

Marinette could feel her face getting flushed from all the attention, but didn’t want to argue with him. He was clearly blaming himself for what had happened, and maybe this would be a way to help him feel better, even though it wasn’t his fault whatsoever. She shyly tucked some hair behind her ear, then nodded in consent.

As Adrien treated Marinette’s wounds, they overheard Principal Damocles and Madame Bustier conversing as they walked down the hallway outside of the nurse’s office.

“—And now there isn’t even anyone left behind for Monsieur Agreste to press charges, since the police claim that the perpetrators disappeared into thin air!” Mr. Damocles lamented as he paused in front of the slightly ajar infirmary door. “It’s not like he can sue Ladybug or the authorities for their negligence in capturing the culprits. Or, come to think of it, maybe he can! He is friends with the mayor, after all,” he pondered, continuing his musings. “Regardless, the blame will surely fall upon us!”

“Perhaps this isn’t the time to worry about that, Principal Damocles,” Mme Bustier spoke in a more hushed tone. “Surely M. Agreste must be feeling absolutely distraught after what nearly happened to his son. He’s such a caring and devoted father, always worrying about Adrien’s well-being, especially since his wife’s disappearance. His son is all he has left. We should try to be more considerate.”

“Hmm, yes, I suppose you are correct. Perhaps if we send him a basket of fruit to show our condolences about this incident, he’ll let the whole thing slide and we can avoid a lawsuit.”

“Sir…” Caline Bustier let out a troubled sigh as the two continued down the hallway.

The room was quiet again and Marinette had to work really hard to suppress an irritated groan, as her acting skills were put to the ultimate test of avoiding outwardly cringing at her principal’s misdirected priorities.

Her attention turned back towards Adrien, and at this point she realized that his actions had halted. His arm hovered in mid-air holding a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic, glassy eyes staring blankly at the ground. He looked rather pale, almost like he’d seen a ghost, and his face was downcast, yet somehow still unreadable. She supposed that years of concealing his emotions came naturally for him as well.

Marinette knew that Adrien’s relationship with his father was rather strained, particularly over the past year, with him becoming more and more strict and Adrien having to deal with increasing pressure to maintain a near-impossible standard of conduct. But judging by Adrien’s dramatic shift in mood, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it than that.

She reached forward, lightly touching his opposite forearm to get his attention. His gaze whipped up to meet hers, his eyes revealing an ocean of sorrow. But he cleared his throat and gave her a small smile, that perfect default smile, the one that she hated seeing on him. Then he resumed tending to her various wounds, briefly apologizing for getting distracted.

She noticed in her peripheral vision a miffed-looking Nino pulling Alya to the other side of the room, speaking in hushed tones. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it sounded like they were disagreeing about something.

“–You can’t just go around making those kinds of accusations!” Alya hissed, almost too quiet for Marinette to hear. “It’s literally the worst time for that!”

“I won’t!” Nino whispered back. “... For now. But it doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop suspecting him. I’m telling you, he’s not a good dude! If he’s such a ‘perfect’ father, why isn’t he here right now?! After what just happened?” His posture drooped and he crossed his arms. “I just… I’m worried about Adrien, babe. What if he’s not actually okay?” he asked with a slight quiver in his voice.

“Oh, Nino…” Alya’s face softened as she brought him into a tight embrace. “Everything’s gonna be fine, hon. Don’t worry.”

She glanced over and made eye contact with Marinette, giving her a small smile; then she and Nino walked off together to a more secluded area to continue their private conversation.

Adrien finished wrapping up a nasty-looking gash on her shin, which had bled through her pants leg. He’d rolled up the fabric to treat the wound, and was now rolling it back down.

“Thank you, Adrien,” she said quietly. “I should get going, my parents are probably worried; they usually keep the news radio turned on in the bakery, so they’ve probably already heard about what happened.”

Adrien stood when she did. Always a gentleman, she thought with a smile.

“Will you be alright? Can I walk you home?” he asked.

Marinette spluttered incredulously. “You’re asking me if I’m alright?! After all that you just went through??”

He shrugged slightly, giving her a tiny, contrite smile. “Well… you went through it with me. And, as amazing as you are, you’re not unbreakable. I just wanna be there for you like you were for me today. And like every time you’ve been there whenever I needed someone.”

Marinette’s heart thumped loudly in her chest, touched by his concern and gratitude. He spoke so sincerely, and she could sense that many things were left unspoken, and there was a weight behind his words that she couldn’t decipher. “What about your car ride?”

“I…” he faltered slightly. “I’ll tell them to pick me up from your place. No biggie.”

“Well… if you’re sure. The company would be nice,” she relented.

“Great!” he said cheerfully, offering his arm. “You can be my seeing-eye mouse.”

“A what? A seeing-eye mouse?” she giggled. “Actually, that reminds me–” she paused, opening her purse and rummaging through it.

Adrien’s eyes grew wide as she conjured up his missing eyeglasses from within.

“I went looking for them before coming to find you. It was lucky that they were still there, in the locker room. One of the lenses has a small scratch, but they should still work fine until you can buy a new pair.”

Adrien let out a small, incredulous laugh, then put on his glasses. “I can’t believe you went back for them. You’re a lifesaver, Marinette; in so many ways. Thank you.”

Marinette’s face warmed at the compliment, despite trying hard to smolder the remainders of a flame that was once there. She cleared her throat and teased, “Can I still be your seeing-eye dog?”

“You mean, my ‘seeing-eye mouse’!”

She raised an amused eyebrow. “Why a mouse?”

“You’d be a mouse ‘cause you’re little and cute!”

Marinette blew a raspberry as she giggled. “You’re such a dork! Alright, I’ll do it, but you’d better be there when I need someone to fetch something from the top shelves!”

Adrien chuckled and gave her a wink. “That’s a promise.”

–––––

As some of you correctly guessed: YES! The peacock miraculous was used to create sentimonsters in the image of Adrien's old bodyguard to deceive him and take him back to Gabriel.

There's some plot decisions I have to make (whether to follow my original outline of what comes next or if I need to tweak some things to improve the flow of the story), so it's back to "normal" updates again, but I'll do my best to update a bit more consistently :)

[tobesolonely]

muse

A/n: hello everyone!! im very excited to put this out :-) i was going to make a long one shot but ive never written anything multi-part before and i wanted to give it a go!! also my first time with an oc 🌟so i hope everyone enjoys!! not sure when the next part will come out but i wanna upload at least once a week or every two weeks or something idk haha but anywayssss lmk ur thoughts!

biggest, biggest thank u to my love @harryysstyless​ for beta reading and being so encouraging<333 luv u!!

photographer oc x harry styles

please let me know your thoughts on miss aminah, iman, serena, and harry!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

Los Angeles was your newest muse.

You had always been the spontaneous type. It came as no shock to your family and friends when you told them you had purchased a one-way ticket and were moving across the country. Although your parents weren’t too keen on the idea of their daughter moving so far away from them, they helped you withdraw your savings and find a modest apartment in LA before sending you on your way.

Your reason for moving to LA was simple, really. You were a freelance photographer that felt your career was growing rather… stagnant. You had a thick portfolio and were proud of the work you produced, but your clientele wasn’t as impressive as you’d hope it would be after nearly six years of working at it.

And so began your desire to move from New York to Los Angeles— one big city to the next.

People who knew you often described you as ambitious, fiery, and an absolute go-getter. If your big move scared you in any way, no one knew any better. Your confidence never faltered— not even in the slightest.

After nearly three months of being in LA, you developed a routine of sorts. You’d wake up, eat a breakfast that almost always consisted of avocado toast and coffee, and go on a run. After your run, you would come home, shower, and decide how far you wanted to venture to take pictures that day.

Sometimes your roommates, Serena and Iman, would join you to keep you company. Although you’d never met either one of them before answering their ad for a roommate on Craigslist, you had grown extremely close to the girls in the few months that you’d known them. Despite the two girls being friends since their childhood, they never made you feel left out, and you fit in with them effortlessly.

During your short time in the city, there were so many places you had been, but still, even more you had yet to see. Serena and Iman, both native Angelenos, would often suggest spots for you to check out and even offer to drive you around— you were from New York after all, and at twenty-four years old, you were still not the owner of a driver's license.

“You’ve never been to North Hollywood yet, right Aminah?” Iman questioned as you all lounged around, trying to come up with a place you had not yet been.

“No, I haven’t really gone anywhere farther than walking distance,” you reply, looking around the cramped living room for your camera bag. “Or the places you guys have driven me. That was still considered Downtown though, right? Where we went the other day?” You were still getting used to how absolutely massive Los Angeles was.

“We should go to Santa Monica or something— wait, Malibu!” Serena exclaims. “We have to go to Malibu, Mina. It’s so nice there, you could totally get a bunch of good shots.”

“Yeah, we might even see a celebrity!” Iman chimes in, stifling laughter.

It was an on-going joke between the three of you. When you first moved to LA, you told your roommates that you couldn’t wait to make your way around the city because you were hoping to run into a celebrity. It was Los Angeles after all— you figured they were everywhere.

You quickly learned that wasn’t the case. Celebrities here kept a low-profile and even if you did encounter a celebrity, it’s not like you would approach them. “You’re not funny, Iman,” you tell your roommate with a roll of your eyes.

“Yes I am,” Iman quips, wiggling her eyebrows. “If we’re gonna go to Malibu then I gotta change. Can I borrow a cute shirt from anyone?”

A short twenty minutes later, the three of you were piled in Serena’s car on your way to Malibu. You’d heard of the city before and knew it was a wealthy area, but that’s about it. Your roommates promised you that out of all the beaches in LA, Malibu had the nicest ones, and lots of places to take pictures. Since none of you had anything to do, you all decided it was as good a day as any to have a beach day and get some shots of your roommates to add to your portfolio. Since you didn’t know anyone except Serena and Iman, the pictures on your camera from the last few months consisted entirely of nature and inanimate objects. While it was good practice, you really preferred to photograph actual people.

“Traffic is so bad today,” you say from the backseat after traveling approximately two feet in five minutes. Iman snorts from the passenger side.

“When isn’t traffic bad, Mina,” she turns to look at you, an amused look on her face. “Don’t worry about it. It always gets backed up at this fuckin’ exit and then as soon as we get past it there’s like, zero traffic.”

“Right! I always complain about how shitty this exit is. I have no clue who designed it,” Serena adds, skipping through songs on her playlist. “It’s still early in the day, though. I’m just hoping the beach won’t be too crowded by the time we get there.”

“I don’t care how crowded the beach is. I just don’t want it to take us forty minutes to find parking…”

You tune out your roommate's voices, instead choosing to focus on the traffic jam outside the car. To Serena and Iman, people who were born and raised in Los Angeles, the city wasn’t necessarily anything special. Sure, they loved how there was always something to do, but the bad drivers, traffic, and smog got old. The novelty of LA hadn’t yet worn off to you, though. You didn’t know how your roommates were content to sit inside the apartment all day when there were tons of things to do basically right outside your doorstep. You felt like you were the one convincing them to go out with you half of the time, and you didn’t even know where you were going.

After what feels like almost entirely too long but was really only half an hour, Serena pulls into a fairly empty parking lot. “Are we not allowed to be here?”

“Why do you think that?” Iman asks, squinting her eyes to read a sign. “It doesn’t say it’s closed. I mean, there are a few cars–– look.” She points to a few cars scattered around the parking lot.

“I mean, it is nine in the morning on a Wednesday. People are probably at work,” you tell the two girls in the front seat. “Besides, there’s someone in the parking booth. Can you even close a beach?”

Serena drives forward, rolling down her window. “I mean, I guess not. You can close the parking lot, though.” You hum in agreement. She quickly pays for parking and tosses her receipt on the dashboard before driving slowly through the parking lot.

“I love when no one’s at the beach,” Iman sighs, clapping her hands. “No one will get in the way of your picture-taking either, Meens.”

You smile at the nickname. “Yeah, that’s true. We picked a perfect time to come too, guys. The lighting’s great.”

“Really? Is it gonna make my skin pop?” Iman turns around and sticks her arm out, sensually running her fingers along it.

“You always look good no matter what the lighting’s like, Iman,” you reply, refraining from rolling your eyes at her. “You have the glowiest complexion out of all of us.”

“We’re literally all the same skin-tone, Aminah,” she retorts, crossing her arms.

“We have different undertones, though,” you answer. “So not really. Plus, Serena is way lighter than us! What are you talking about?”

“Should I park here?” Serena asks, interrupting your conversation.

“Why here? All these empty spots and you wanna park directly next to this car?”

“This is a good spot, Iman. It’s a parking lot. If they didn’t want anyone to park next to them, they should’ve taken an Uber and got dropped off.” She turns into the spot, quickly putting the car in park and crossing her arms to prove her point.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, smiling at your friends’ bickering. They were so close they were basically sisters. They argued sometimes and were quick to call the other out on their shit, and you loved it.

“I just think you’re weird for parking next to this car. It’s a nice car.”

“Who cares, girl?” Serena groans, exasperated. “We’re gonna be on the beach. They’ll probably be gone before we will.” She pops the trunk before unplugging her phone from the aux cord and stepping outside. Iman mimics her before flinging the door open as well and stepping out of the car.

You make sure your camera bag is closed all the way before situating it over your shoulder and climbing out of the car as well.

“It’s kinda cold,” Iman says, wrapping her arms around her body. “If I knew it would be so overcast I would’ve bought a jacket.” Serena hums in agreement and you look up at the sky, unphased.

“It’s like, seventy degrees?” you look at the weather app on your phone in confirmation.

“We get it, Meens. You’re from New York,” Serena teases, closing her trunk. She hands you a few towels and a blanket to carry while she rolls the cooler and Iman carries the beach chairs and umbrella.

“It’s a cold seventy degrees and you know it,” Iman defends. “Look at my goosebumps. I can’t fake this shit.” You shake your head at your overly dramatic friends and follow them down to the beach. You take off your sandals as soon as you’re off the pavement, wiggling your toes in the cold sand.

“We can set up pretty much wherever we want,” Serena points out, tucking flyaway curls behind her ears. “Where do you think the best place to be is, Mina? Y’know, so you can get good pictures?”

“It doesn’t really matter, to be honest,” you tell them distractedly, too busy looking around the beach in awe. Your friends were right–– out of all the beaches you’d visited in Los Angeles so far, this one was the nicest (and cleanest). “Maybe we can get a little closer to the water?”

The three of you walk for a couple of minutes before Iman abruptly stops, dramatically dropping everything she was carrying. “Let’s just set up here. There’s no one around anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“There actually is someone around,” you tell them, looking at a stranger who seemed to be fixated on staring at you and your friends. “Don’t look, but a cute guy is staring at us.” Serena and Iman immediately turn around, shading their eyes from the bit of sun that was starting to peek through the clouds. The guy couldn’t have been more than twenty yards away from where you were setting up.

...“Huh,” Serena says, turning back around. “Is it just me, or does that guy look a lot like Harry Styles?” She looks back over her shoulder again, but he’s no longer staring at the three of you, focusing on what appeared to be a book instead.

“Why would Harry Styles be at the beach by himself at nine in the morning?” Iman asks, unfolding a beach chair and flopping down on it.

“Why wouldn’t he? It’s Malibu, dude,” Serena responds. You could tell your friends were about to start bickering again, so you quickly jump in.

“Doesn’t matter. Neither one of you would go up to him even if it was, so what’s the point in arguing about it?” They both raise their eyebrows at you.

“And you would, Mina? Bullshit!” Iman exclaims, laughing. “I dare you to go see if it’s him, and if it is, ask him if he wants to join us.”

“That’s weird! What if it’s not him?”

“Even if it’s not him, we’ll still get to hang out with a cute boy.” Iman points out. Serena nods in agreement and you can’t deny that she makes a convincing argument. “Just ask him if he wants a mimosa or something!”

“No, don’t ask that,” Serena interjects. “Tell him that you’re a photographer and you’re working on building a new portfolio. Ask him if he would be cool with you photographing him.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Are you sure that’s not weird, Serena?”

“Aminah, trust me. I wouldn’t deliberately let you make yourself look weird.” Your roommate reassures you.

And so you found yourself clearing the short distance to where the handsome stranger was laid, half hoping it was Harry Styles, half hoping it was not. You couldn’t act like you weren’t a fan of him–– you thought he was incredibly attractive and enjoyed his music just like most people. If Harry Styles was the first celebrity you encountered during your short time in Los Angeles, you‘d never stop talking about it. Ever.

When you’re almost to him he looks up, dog-earring the page he’s on. After making eye contact with him, there’s no mistaking that this is Harry Styles. You pinch the back of your hand, urging yourself not to freak out. He has a knowing look on his face and you’re grateful for your darker complexion that hides your blush.

“Hi,” you speak first, stopping a few feet away from him. “Uh, my friends and I are just uh, we’re... you know.” You internally wince at your inability to form a coherent sentence. His gaze never breaks from yours and you look away first, growing shyer by the second. If you thought he was beautiful on Instagram, he was even more gorgeous in person. It was incredible.

“Hi,” he finally says after a brief moment of silence. “‘M sorry if I was starin’ at you ladies a moment ago. I jus’ usually never see anyone else this early out here. Are you a photographer?”

You almost ask him how he knows when you realize your camera is still hanging around your neck. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I am.” He’s still staring intently at you.

“Would you like to sit?”

You look over your shoulder at Serena and Iman who were pretending to be preoccupied putting on sunscreen, but you know they were waiting for you to come back with the man you now knew to be Harry Styles.

“Oh, my friends are waiting for me,” Harry looks up at you patiently, waiting for you to continue speaking. “I was actually going to photograph them. I’m working on building up my portfolio. I understand if you can’t for… I dunno, legal reasons? Or if you just don’t want to–– and that’s fine if you don’t, but would it be okay if I photographed you as well?”

“That actually sounds like a lot of fun. It’s kinda boring jus’ readin’ out here on my own,” he agrees quickly, surprising you. Harry stands up and stretches a bit before leaning down to gather up his blanket, towel, water bottle, and book. “What’s your name? I’m Harry.”

You know that Harry knows that you know exactly who he is, but the fact that he introduced himself to you makes him even more endearing. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Aminah.”

Harry extends his free hand to you. “It’s very nice to meet you, Aminah.” You love the way your name sounds coming out of his mouth.

As you approach Serena and Iman, their eyes go wide when they realize it really was him. Serena nudges Iman and you know without even having heard it that she’s saying, “I told you so!” Harry stops a bit behind you, smiling at them.

“Hello,” he starts. “S’okay if I join you ladies? Aminah here extended such a nice offer that I jus’ couldn’t pass it up, but wanna check with the two of you first.”

Serena’s mouth is shamelessly hanging open, and you realize that she may have been a bigger fan than she let on. Iman answers for them. “Of course! Mina’s building her portfolio and I bet it would look like, super cool, if you were a part of it!” Harry nods, setting the few things he had with him down.

“I don’t think I would even be the center of attention if ‘m sittin’ beside you beautiful ladies. I’ll jus’ act as a prop or something,” he flashes them a dimpled smile. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are your names? I’m Harry.”

“We know,” Iman answers a little too quickly. “I’m Iman and this is Serena.” Serena gives him a timid wave.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you all. Are you guys from around here?” He lays his blanket beside all of your stuff and sits down cross-legged, not once breaking eye contact with any of you. You had no idea how he did it.

“We live Downtown. We’re only over here so Mina could get some good pictures, she’s a photographer,” Iman answers proudly. “She’s amazing, but she’ll never admit it.”

“Iman…,” you trail off. “Stop, dude.”

“It’s true,” Serena jumps into the conversation, now seemingly over the initial shock of who was sitting barely two feet away from her. “She’s the best photographer I know.” Harry turns to look at you, an amused look on his face.

“That’s a hefty claim. I can’t wait to see your photography skills, Aminah.”

“They’re just hyping me up,” you reply, making a mental note to yell at your friends for embarrassing you once the three of you were alone again. “I’m not that good.”

“That looks pretty professional to me,” Harry says, gesturing to the camera that has not yet left your neck since arriving at the beach. “I bet you’re just as good as they say you are.” You look away, hiding your face. Iman, being the wing woman she is, can tell you’re growing flustered from all the attention and moves the conversation away from you.

“Do any of y’all want a mimosa?” Before anyone can even answer her, she’s popping open the champagne and handing the orange juice to Serena to open. Harry politely declines, as he drove himself to the beach that morning. You and Iman are ultimately the only ones who indulge in a drink since you were the only ones not driving.

Talking to Harry was like catching up with an old friend. He wanted to know everything about the three of you and whenever he felt the conversation was becoming too much about him, he quickly changed the subject. Harry learned that Iman and Serena have been friends since the second grade when Iman pushed some boy off of the monkey bars for teasing Serena. He learned your favorite take-out spots, your favorite bars, and what freeways Iman and Serena tried to avoid at all cost (it was the 405, which he agreed with). What seemed to intrigue Harry the most, though, was him learning that you just moved from New York and had never even been to Los Angeles before moving.

“Why did you pick somewhere all the way across the country that you’d never even vacationed at before?” He had a look of confusion written across his face. You shrug, not really knowing the answer.

“I mean, I’ve seen it on TV shows and in movies. That doesn’t count?” you joke. Harry still looks utterly bewildered.

“I mean… no?”

Serena laughs. “We were just as confused as you were, Harry. We were scared for a moment when she moved in because we were like, oh shit, what if she’s insane? You know? Like, what sane person would move all the way across the country to live somewhere they’d never even vacationed before?”

You let out an offended, “heyyyy”, lightly smacking Serena’s thigh. “I just needed a change and I’m a drastic person! I either go all-in when I do something, or I just don’t do it at all.” You defend yourself.

“I actually think that’s really fuckin’ cool,” Harry says after a moment. “Sometimes I wish I could just… up an’ go. Y’know?” you all nod, and it falls silent again. “Well, should we take some pictures now?”

Any intimidation you felt to photograph Harry disappeared as soon as he started posing for you.

Being that he was a major celebrity, he was no stranger to posing for a photoshoot. Harry was ethereal–– you knew the pictures of him would most likely require minimal to no editing. Serena and Iman also looked incredible, and you were thankful to have such gorgeous people as your muses. You were taking pictures of them in various places around the beach, only stopping once it started getting too crowded. There were starting to be too many people in the background of your shots and Harry wanted to get going, not particularly in the mood to be recognized. The three of you decide you should get going too. You had more than enough pictures to go through and besides, you were all starting to grow hungry.

Harry follows the three of you to the parking lot, keeping his head down the entire way. The closer you got to Serena’s car, the sadder you got. You didn’t want to stop talking to Harry and photographing him. However, you knew you were just in the right place at the right time, and it was likely that you’d never cross paths with him any time soon–– if ever again.

“Thank you for letting me photograph you,” you tell him sincerely once you were almost to Serena’s car. “That was really kind of you. I can promise you I won’t post them anywhere without your permission or like, disclose the location or anything like that.”

Harry finally looks up, determining you were far enough away from the crowds and he was no longer at risk of getting recognized. “It was my pleasure, really. Thank you for inviting me to hang out with you and your friends. It was a lot of fun getting to know you all.” You feel your body heat up.

“Where did you park?”

“Right there,” Harry points straight ahead. “You?”

You let out a loud laugh, causing Serena and Iman, who was walking slightly ahead of you and Harry, to turn around and look at the two of you. “We parked right next to you! Iman was getting on Serena for parking next to you because the lot was pretty much empty when we got here this morning.”

Harry lets out a breathy chuckle. “I guess it’s fate that we crossed paths then, yeah?” You let out a quiet hum in agreement, stopping a few feet in front of Serena’s car. You hear her and Iman debating on where you should stop for lunch, but you were waiting to see what Harry would say next.

“Aminah? After you get a chance to look at those pictures, do you think you can send them to my manager? His name’s Jeff. I’d love to see how they come out.”

“Oh yeah, of course! Do you have his business card or something?” You were excited that Harry actually cared to see your work but based on the couple of hours you spent interacting with him, you learned he was just an overall insanely kind person.

“I can jus’ put his contact info in your phone? If you don’t mind,” his gaze falters, a sheepish look on his face.

“Totally! Let me just unlock my phone,” you dig in the pocket of your shorts, pulling your phone out and unlocking it with your face. You hand it over to him and while he’s looking down typing you glance over at your roommates who had shocked looks on their faces. You would explain to them later that he wasn’t giving you his number, just his managers, but for now, you’d let them think he was giving his number to you out of all people–– a total stranger.

Harry hands it back to you a few moments later, running his fingers through his hair. “Thank you again for such a great morning, Aminah. I’ll let you get goin’, don’t wanna hold you ladies up any longer,” he waves at Serena and Iman. “It was really nice to meet all of you. Hope to see you all again soon.” You notice that his gaze lingers on you for a moment when he says that, and you feel your body heat up for what must have been at least the tenth time that day.

The three of you watch as Harry unlocks his car and throws his items haphazardly into the passenger side before climbing in, slamming the door shut. His car starts immediately afterwards and he gives you a quick nod before quickly backing out of the spot, leaving. None of you say anything for a bit, just processing what just happened. Serena is the first one to speak, her hand on the handle of her car door.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Harry fucking Styles?” her voice raises at least two octaves and you know she’s about to have a mini freakout. “Did he ask for your number, Meens?”

“No dude, he just gave me his manager's number. He wants to see how the pictures come out after I edit them,” you tell her, opening the backseat of her car. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Uh, that’s definitely a big deal, Aminah. Stop being so humble,” Iman tells you, exaggerated annoyance lacing her voice. “Did you see how he looked at you? When he said, ‘Hope to see you all again soon’?” She puts on a terrible posh accent.

“You’re so annoying,” you groan, shaking out the blanket and beach towels before throwing them onto the seat. “Where are we gonna eat?”

Iman and Serena pile into the car as well, telling you about the three restaurants they were stuck choosing between. You hum distractedly, typing the name ‘Jeff’ into your contacts to see if Harry left a number and an email, or just an email. Your brows furrowed in confusion when you see the name is nowhere to be found in your contact list. You chalk up the mistake to Harry just forgetting to press ‘save’ after creating the contact and figure you can just find his manager’s contact information on the internet somewhere. As you’re scrolling back up through your contact list, your eye lands on a name that makes your breath hitch in your throat.

Harry Styles.

[cosmicgoddesswrites]

Punch Drunk

Boxer!Kuroo x F!Reader

Summary: Kuroo Tetsuro dreams of making a name for himself in the city as one of the best boxers out there. But he can’t do that without a a gym to train at. Luckily for him, his best friend happens to know a hardass gym owner with a soft spot for dummies.

Word Count: 7,278

Warnings: Some violence (descriptions of boxing matches), bl00d, swearing. Slightly N*FW

Author’s Note: This won’t necessarily be a series, but I will be revisiting this AU in future one-shots. View this as sort of an introductory to the characters and the setting, as well as the romance between Kuroo and (Y/n).

Kuroo stared out the window of the cab he had called to get him to the address Bokuto had sent him.

The gym was deep in the city, thankfully not too far from Kuroo’s apartment. At least, that was Bokuto’s main selling point to get him to go.

Kuroo would have happily stayed at the gym a block away from his apartment… if he hadn’t been kicked out for ‘starting a fight.’ Kuroo didn’t necessarily start the fight… he didn’t end it either.

His mom always told him that mouth of his would get him into trouble. She of course was right.

The cab pulled to a sudden stop, causing Kuroo to lurch forward in his seat and the seatbelt to dig into his stomach. He narrowed his eyes at the cab driver before paying the fare and getting out of the vehicle.

He scanned the busy sidewalk, smiling once he caught sight of Bokuto waiting for him at the doors of the gym. The two greeted each other, exchanging a quick bro hug before parting and turning in unison towards the gym.

“So, this is (L/n) and Son’s, huh?” Kuroo asked, taking in the sight of the worn out sign above their heads. “I did some reading up on this place, apparently it’s famous.”

“That’s cuz (L/n) was a boxing legend! This place is pretty exclusive, you’re lucky you have a friend on the inside who could get you in with the owner!” Bokuto boasted, leading his friend inside the dimly lit gym.

Kuroo looked around, noticing the limited amount of people taking up the space. He expected it to be a lot more busy, given its reputation.

Rap music played over the speakers, barely audible due to the grunts and shouts coming from the people sparring in the boxing ring to the right of the door.

Kuroo spotted a man sitting in an office situated in the far corner of the gym. He began making his way there, only for Bokuto to grab his arm and stop him mid-stride.

“Where are you going?” he asked, tilting his head.

“To talk to (L/n) and or his son.” Kuroo responded, motioning towards the man who was now leaving his office.

Bokuto laughed awkwardly, “R-right, about that… there is no son in (L/n) and Son’s… That’s one of the trainers. Our girl’s over there.” He pointed towards a woman currently facing off against a stand-up punching bag.

Kuroo looked around, hoping no one had noticed his blunder as he adjusted his gym bag over his shoulder. He followed Bokuto to the section of the gym the woman was in, noting her impressive form as she continued training.

“(Y/n)~~~” Bokuto sang, catching her attention. She turned away from the bag, panting hard as she clenched and unclenched her fists.

“You’re late… None of my other trainers are ever late…”

Bokuto gave her a bashful smile, “Yeahhh well I had to wait for my friend to get here! He wants to enroll!” He motioned towards Kuroo, who smiled and waved at her.

(Y/n) sighed, glancing between the two men as she began unwrapping her hands. “Fine. Go get ready for your 11o’clock. I’ll take care of him.”

Bokuto saluted her before retreating into the men’s locker room.

“Well, let’s get this taken care of, newbie.” (Y/n) said, motioning for Kuroo to follow her to her office.

She took off her tank top as they entered, tossing it aside shamelessly and leaving her in a sport bra and sweatpants. (Y/n) flopped into the desk chair, grabbing a towel from nearby and wiping the sweat off her body.

Kuroo didn’t realize he was staring until she looked up at him and motioned for him to sit down.

“So, what kind of experience do you have?” she asked, pulling out a clipboard with a couple forms on it.

“Well, I did some boxing in high school. Nothing really serious though, it was more just for fun.” he said, looking around at all the photos in the room. He saw one of a man flexing his muscles with a toddler holding onto his bicep and being lifted off the ground. After staring at it for a good minute, he realized it was (Y/n) and her father.

“And is this for recreation? Or are we looking at a future boxing champion?” (Y/n) teased, sliding the clipboard across the messy desk and towards him.

Kuroo smirked slightly as he began writing down his information. “Best case scenario, boxing champion. Worse case scenario, just a punching bag that bets against myself in fights.”

He felt something within himself flutter as (Y/n) cracked a smile at his joke. “Well, we’ll see what we can do to help that. Is Kou gonna train you?”

Kuroo finished up the paperwork and handed her the clipboard. “Could you?”

She snorted as she took the clipboard from him and began looking over his information. “Honey, you couldn’t afford me. License and credit card, please.”

Kuroo laughed loudly, handing her the cards and ignoring the looks they received from the people outside the office.

She wrote down the information then handed him his cards back. “Alright, gym is all yours. No breaking the equipment, and don’t go starting fights. If you have a problem with someone you take it outside. You already know where the locker room is, if you need anything ask Kou.”

Kuroo gave her a small smirk, “Can’t I ask you?”

(Y/n) narrowed her eyes at him slightly, a smirk of her own painting her features. “No. Now go on.”

Kuroo hurried out of the office, giving her one last glance before making his way to the locker room. He ran into Bokuto on his way there.

“Sooo… she’s cute huh?” Bokuto asked, wiggling his eyebrows at his friend.

Kuroo gave him a small shove. “You should’ve told me the owner was an attractive woman. I would have brought more appealing gym clothes.”

“Hey hey! Don’t get mad at me… just show off extra hard for her then.”

Bokuto whined, waving him off as he left to grab some bottled waters for the person he was training.

Kuroo changed into his gym clothes and began wandering around the gym, settling on doing simple combos on one of the many punching bags in the gym. It wasn’t until (Y/n) left her office that Kuroo began getting into his workout, throwing harder and more frequent punches.

She walked right past him and into the women’s locker room, presumably to shower.

Well, now he had to keep working out that hard or the other patrons would catch on to his peacocking. He figured he’d train a couple more minutes like that on the bag before he was in the clear, then he’d take a water break and find something else to do.

“Kuroo!”

He jumped at the mention of his name, turning to glare at his spiky haired friend who had just barked his name. Bokuto was currently standing in the ring, the biggest man Kuroo had ever seen standing beside him.

Bokuto sent him a bright smile as he waved him over, “Come on into the ring, bud! There’s someone I wanna introduce you to!”

Kuroo huffed, leaving the bag and climbing into the ring.

“Kuroo, this is my trainee, Ushijima!” Bokuto announced, wrapping an arm around Kuroo as he motioned towards the larger man. “He has a fight coming up in a couple weeks and I need someone to spar with him so I can critique his technique!”

Kuroo was half processing the words coming out of his mouth, too busy taking in the wall of muscle standing before him. They had to be about the same height, but Jesus. This guy was a monster…

“So? Think you can help us out?” Bokuto said, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

“Sure… yeah, I can do that…” Kuroo gulped, trying his best not to stutter and give away his anxiety. He quickly turned, picking up and putting on the spare protective gear his friend had left in the corner of the ring.

Once he turned to Ushijima, he swallowed his anxiety and put his gloves up. One of the trainers out of the ring rang a bell, signaling them to begin sparring.

Ushijima was on him in an instant, throwing the first punch as Kuroo kept his gloves up, blocking the hit but still being rocked by the heavy blow. He was sure he heard Bokuto barking instructions, but Kuroo was too busy trying not to die to listen to the trainer’s words.

He finally took a hit to the jaw after his opponent faked him out. Kuroo dropped to his knee, grunting as he struggled to cup his face with his gloved hand.

“Kuroo! You okay?!” Bokuto asked.

Kuroo moved back onto his feet, “Just a little tickle…” he said through his mouth-guard. Once he seemed to maintain his balance the bell rang, and Kuroo was once again dodging the first hit from Ushijima.

He decided to stay lighter on his feet, dancing around the ring in an attempt to tire out the other boxer. His tactic seemed to be working. As Ushijima struggled to keep up with him, Kuroo moved in close and landed a hit on his jaw.

Without warning, Ushijima quickly recovered and sent a harsh blow to Kuroo’s gut, sending him back to the floor.

Kuroo gasped for air as he laid in a heap, crumbled over himself. He blocked out Bokuto’s voice, trying to focus his breathing to recover.

“Did that tickle too?”

It was Kuroo’s first time ever hearing his opponent’s voice, but it was Ushijima without a doubt who had sent the taunt his way.

Kuroo slowly stood up, ignoring the ache in his stomach as he glared daggers at the other trainee. He didn’t even wait for the bell to signal the start of the next round. He just stalked towards Ushijima, arms at his sides and fire in his eyes.

No surprise, Ushijima took the first swing. But Kuroo ducked out of the way before hitting him with a two-hit combo. They were light hits, something to throw the more muscular boxer off rather than cause damage.

Bokuto was yelling for Kuroo to put his gloves up, his orders falling on deaf ears.

Kuroo didn’t bother keeping his distance this round, giving Ushijima no room to breath as he bobbed and weaved away from his hits while delivering some of his own.

“Keep your defense up, Ushijima! You’re letting him get to you! Just cuz his defense is sloppy doesn’t mean yours has to be too!” Bokuto said, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the two.

Sure enough, Ushijima raised his gloves, giving Kuroo adequate access to his stomach. He took a hard swing at him, knocking the air out of him and sending him onto one knee.

Kuroo smiled victoriously as the bell signaled the end of the round.

In a blur, Ushijima jumped up onto his feet and swung at Kuroo, hitting him square in the nose.

His vision went black the second he hit the mat. He wasn’t sure how many seconds passed until he regained his vision. The first thing he heard was Bokuto scolding Ushijima for throwing a punch after the round had ended.

Then he heard heavy footsteps move past him and out of the ring.

Somebody then hoisted Kuroo onto his feet. He turned his head to see Bokuto looking over his nose. Kuroo’s head lulled as he watched Ushijima walk towards the men’s locker room.

“Yeah, that how you fight? Take cheap shots and hope they stick?” he slurred, the feeling of warm liquid dripping from his nose and down his face fueling his words.

Ushijima whipped around to face him, looking like he was ready to pounce into the ring and rip Kuroo apart.

“The hell did you just say?” He asked, the threatening tone of voice doing little to get Kuroo to back down.

As Ushijima prepared to climb back in the ring, (Y/n) rushed out of the bathroom with one of the trainers hot on her heels.

“The fuck is going on here? Why’s the newbie bleeding all over my mat?!” she shouted, making her way to the edge of the ring.

“They were sparring and-”

“Your boy here takes cheap fucking shots!” Kuroo shouted, interrupting Bokuto as he made a move towards Ushijima, only for Bokuto to hold him back.

“Say that one more time, I swear to God-” (Y/n) stepped in front of Ushijima, pressing her hands to his chest to hold the larger man back.

“And you’ll fucking what?” she growled, not faltering as he shifted his deadly gaze onto her.

The gym went deathly quiet, everyone seeming to wait for Ushijima’s response.

(Y/n) slowly removed her hands from his chest. “That’s what I thought…” she scoffed. “You both know the rules. You can’t keep it civil in the ring, you get out. I see either of you start more shit and I’ll make sure no other gym in the city lets you so much as spit in their direction…”

She looked between the two men, her expression sending a chill down Kuroo’s spine.

“You,” she said, her voice low and tone steely, “hit the showers…”

He stared down at her for a moment before turning on his heel and retreating to the locker room.

Kuroo’s shoulders went lax as he breathed a sigh of relief, only to tense once again when (Y/n) addressed him.

“And you… get in my office.”

Without another word, she went to her office, leaving Kuroo and Bokuto standing there in shock.

“Is she gonna kill me…?” He asked, looking at his friend.

“Maybe… Go…” Bokuto said, helping his friend out of the ring.

Kuroo hesitantly closed the office door behind him and took a seat in front of (Y/n)’s desk, her eyes on him the whole time. He nearly jumped out of his skin when she suddenly got up and moved around her desk.

She sat at the edge of the desk, glancing at the large window that offered her a view of the gym to make sure the blinds were shut. She took a tissue box from the corner of her desk and handed it to him once she was sure they had privacy. “How bad does it hurt?”

Kuroo shrugged, wiping the blood off his face and quickly plugging his nostrils with tissues. “Not too bad…”

(Y/n) leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she studied his nose. “Doesn’t look broken, so that’s good. You might just need to ice it.”

“You didn’t just bring me in here to play nurse, did you?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

(Y/n)’s lips tugged into a slight smirk, “You don’t like it when I play nurse?”

He felt his cheeks warm. “You were ready to rip my head off earlier… so I’m a bit suspicious of it if I’m being honest.”

Her expression softened, for a moment Kuroo swore he saw some deep, foreign emotion swirl within her eyes. “You’re pretty good, y’know…”

Kuroo’s tough guy façade dropped as he looked up at her, eyes wide and full of hope, hope that she wasn’t toying with him.

She continued, “You’re kind of a jackass, and smack talking the competition like that will get you killed… but you still got talent…”

“Thank you…” he breathed, suddenly aware of how nasally his voice had become with the tissues stuffed up his nose.

“How would you feel about getting set up with one of our trainers, officially? They’d have weekly appointments with you three times a week and monitor your progress, get you on a fast track to your first match.”

Kuroo practically jumped up from his seat, “Yes! That sounds awesome! Yeah, I want that!”

(Y/n) chuckled at his eagerness as she raised her hands up in mock surrender, “Alright, take it easy, newbie. I still gotta find a trainer who has a clear schedule for you.”

“I meaaaan… you could always do it…?” Kuroo trailed off, raising his eyebrows at her. His heart stopped when she looked like she was thinking it over, weighing the pros and cons of actually training him.

“Once you make mama some money, I’ll consider training you… For now, I’ll see who I have available…” She said, hopping off her desk and returning to her chair.

“Thank you,” he said, his soft tone surprising himself, “Really… this means so much.”

(Y/n) smiled and looked him over before hastily looking away to retrieve a binder from her desk. Kuroo coulda sworn she was checking him out. “Go home and rest up… can’t have a future star like you bleeding all over my gym… I’ll call you once I got a trainer for you.”

“Thanks…” time to turn on the charm, “you can call me even if you don’t have a trainer for me, y’know… just throwing that out there.”

(Y/n) looked up from her binder, grabbed the box of tissues and threw it at him, laughing as he smacked it away. “Goooo!” she whined, ducking her head out of his view.

He quickly left the office, shutting the door behind him. He couldn’t stop the big, cheesy grin on his features, even when he passed Ushijima on his way to the locker room.

Once he had showered and changed, he couldn’t help but try and look into (Y/n)’s office through her window. He only caught a small glimpse of her on his way out, noting her small smile and soft eyes, the same emotion he noticed earlier present in her (E/c) orbs.

—————————————

(Y/n) called Kuroo the next day with news about the trainer she had assigned to him. Much to his disappointment, she wouldn’t be training him.

He came into the gym to meet his trainer, trying to mask his intimidation once he caught sight of the dude’s arms. If he ever put me in a chokehold, I’d be dead…

Iwaizumi seemed nice enough, he started off slow with Kuroo, getting to know his strengths and weaknesses. But Kuroo could tell his constant comments and quips were getting on his new trainer’s nerves.

Kuroo didn’t see much of (Y/n) in the upcoming weeks, only seeing her when she’d walk around the gym or check in on his progress with Iwaizumi.

He couldn’t text the number she called him from, based on the call quality he was sure it was connected to the ancient phone in her office. Asking Bokuto or Iwaizumi for her personal number would be too creepy. He was stuck and he was upset.

He was in the middle of taking his frustrations out on a punching bag when a familiar whistle prompted him to take a break. He turned to see Iwaizumi approaching him with a medium sized box under his arm.

“Got something for ya, newbie.” He said, handing the taller man the box.

Kuroo raised an eyebrow at him, not taking him for the ‘bro-gift’ type, before opening the box. His jaw practically dropped as he took out a bright red jacket and tossed the box aside. His name adorned the back of the jacket in black lettering, popping against the shiny, red material.

“Holy shit…” he looked up at Iwa, ready to thank him, only for the trainer to hold up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t look at me. It’s from the boss.” He said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of her office.

Kuroo could see her through her office window watching the two as she talked on the phone. He had a suspicion she was faking the phone-call just to look busy while she watched him open the gift.

“You can thank her once you’re done for the day… and pick up that damn box, she’ll take the jacket back if you leave your trash laying around.” Iwa scolded him, lightly kicking the box at Kuroo’s feet.

Kuroo did exactly that, peeking into her office once he had finished his shower. She waved him in, smiling once she noticed he was wearing the jacket.

“I take it you like your gift?” she asked, fiddling with one of the many pens that littered her desk.

“I love it,” he said, smirking as he leaned back comfortably in his chair. “Though I gotta say, it’s insanely red.”

(Y/n) smiled, lightly shrugging her shoulders. “Makes it so they can’t see you bleed.”

“You think I’ll get hit that much?” Kuroo pouted.

“I would hope not. Iwaizumi says you’ve made a lot of progress, he’d probably kick your ass if you got sloppy and got the shit kicked out of you in the ring-” (Y/n) was cut off by the office phone’s high pitched ring.

She picked it up only to hang it up not a second later. Kuroo raised an eyebrow at her curiously, to which she shrugged. “At least I can keep one of my trainees happy…” Her eyes wandered to the papers on her desk, Kuroo hadn’t even noticed the posters stacked messily underneath her crossed arms.

“My ESP is telling meeee… Ushijima’s fight got cancelled?” he asked, frowning as (Y/n) nodded.

“The twerp he was supposed to fight chickened out. I got the call this morning.” she sighed, leaning back into her chair and brushing a hand through her hair. “And Ushijima’s pissed. I told him I’d call him if I had good news and now he won’t stop calling me.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Not unless you have a boxer friend, who isn’t Bokuto, that can be ready for the match last minute.” she replied.

Kuroo sat up straight, a cocky smile gracing his features. “Lucky for you, I happen to be a boxer! Aaaand I won’t flake on you.”

(Y/n) scoffed, shaking her head at him. “The fight is in a week and you are nowhere near ready to have an actual match against Ushijima.”

HIs smile faltered, “Excuse you, you said I had talent!”

“Yeah, when you were sparring!” she groaned. “You’ve gotten better, I’ll give you that. But he’s too good and I won’t have you dying in my gym… for insurance reasons.”

“I signed a waiver! Iwa says I can have my first match soon, why not break the ice and start next week?”

“Because he’ll break your face!” (Y/n) shouted, catching Kuroo off guard as he flinched away.

(Y/n) closed her eyes, placing her hand on her chest as she took a deep breath to calm herself. “If Iwa can say without hesitation that you’re ready… We can put you on the roster. But if anything, and I mean anything, happens that shows me you weren’t ready, I’ll make sure you never get another match in this city.”

He couldn’t help the smile that crept on his features. “I’ll go talk to Iwa then…”

Two minutes later and Iwa was in (Y/n)’s office, clearly having an unpleasant chat with her about the upcoming match. She must have felt Kuroo’s eyes on her as he watched the scene unfold before him, because she eventually turned to the window of her office and closed the blinds.

A couple minutes later, Iwa had opened the door to the office, unshaken by the encounter with (Y/n). He motioned for Kuroo to enter, shutting the door behind the taller man and leaning against it.

Kuroo reluctantly took a seat in his usual spot, eyeing (Y/n) cautiously as she looked him up and down.

“If you can sign all this paperwork for me,” she began, sliding a packet of papers towards Kuroo, “and promise you won’t get that nice face of yours broken… you can fight in the match…”

Kuroo grabbed a pen and began filling out the packet immediately. (Y/n) bit back a smile, grateful he didn’t poke at her comment about his looks. She shifted her gaze back to Iwa, “Go tell Bokuto what’s goin on. We’re gonna need a second trainer on Kuroo for what little time we have left before the match.”

Iwa nodded and promptly left the room.

“Yknow, he made a good case for you. You should buy him a beer or something.” (Y/n) suggested, tapping a pen against her desk as she watched Kuroo work.

“I might,” he chuckled, signing his name on the last page of the packet before handing it off to her. “Maybe I’ll buy you one too…”

(Y/n) couldn’t help but snort. “Maybe if you win…now go on, I have a lot of work to do now.”

Kuroo practically jumped out of his seat, eager to talk to Bokuto about the good news, but stopped in the doorway of the office to look at (Y/n) one last time. “Hey… thanks.”

(Y/n) looked up from the paperwork he had just handed her, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re welcome…newbie.”

—————————————

Kuroo figured he’d be nervous before the match, but he felt like he was about to shit his pants as he waited in the locker room. Fuck, would he shit his pants if Ushijima hit him in the stomach? God, that would be so embarrassing. He should have bought brown gym pants. Well, hindsight was 20/20-

“Kuroo! You’re on!” Iwa barked into the locker room.

Kuroo took a deep breath before making his way out of the women’s locker room. He felt a stabby feeling in his chest when he saw Ushijima exit the adjacent locker room in unison with him.

They both walked through the crowd of people and approached the ring. Kuroo felt a tiny wave of relief wash over him when he saw (Y/n) standing in the ring. She looked almost as nervous as he did.

“Here are your fighters! Place your final bets while you can, folks!” (Y/n) announced over the chatter of the crowd, directing them towards one of the trainers who stood beside a chalkboard to keep track of the bets.

Kuroo entered his corner of the ring, shedding his jacket onto a chair before putting on his gear. (Y/n)’s bare feet padded against the mat as she made her way towards him. She leaned against the ropes, offering him a slight smile. “Still wanna do this?”

Kuroo only nodded, knowing his mouthguard would muffle his speech.

“Good! Cuz there’s no turning back now!” she shouted over the crowd’s chatter. (Y/n) left to the opposite corner of the ring, probably to check up on Ushijima before the match.

Iwa snapped his fingers in Kuroo’s face, forcing his eyes off (Y/n)’s back and towards him. “Keep your head in the ring, Kuroo. Don’t get caught up on me, or the crowd, or even (Y/n). It’s best 3 out of 5, so let’s make these rounds count, okay?”

Kuroo nodded, only for his focus to shift back to (Y/n) as she stepped into the middle of the ring once more. “Alright boys! Let’s roll!”

Kuroo hoisted himself into the ring, the feeling of the crowd’s eyes on him made him feel naked as the day he was born. He almost double-checked to make sure he had his shorts on.

“You know him, you love him! In the left corner, Ushijima Wakatoshi!” (Y/n) shouted, motioning to Ushijima as the crowd went wild. Ushijima seemed unfazed by the crowd’s support.

“In the right corner, newcomer, Kuroo Tetsuro!” (Y/n) yelled, motioning towards Kuroo and queueing some cheers, some boos, and lots of wolf whistles. If Kuroo didn’t feel naked before, he certainly did now.

The two met (Y/n) in the middle of the ring, where she laid out the rules for the match. Kuroo almost didn’t hear her, too caught up in the death glare Ushijima was sending him. They wordlessly went to their corners, waiting for (Y/n) to get out of the ring and start the match.

Once she was at the ropes, the bell was rung to begin the match. To no one’s surprise, Ushijima lunged for the first hit, just as he’d done during their sparring.

Kuroo narrowly dodged the hit, but it was quickly followed by a second jab to his stomach. He was grateful it wasn’t a full-force hit, because he’d already be on the ground if it was.

Kuroo delivered a few quick combos his opponent’s way, doing no real damage with the hits that did land. Before he knew it, he was getting fatigued from dancing around to keep out of Ushijima’s reach. Just as someone in the crowd sent a profanity Kuroo’s way, Ushijima punched him square in the face, pushing past his gloves for a brutal blow that sent Kuroo to the floor.

The bell rang, Kuroo didn’t even realize how long he had been on the ground, it felt like a millisecond. He forced himself to get up, growling as Ushijima stepped back into his corner.

“You move around too much and you’re gonna be walking into his fist,” Iwaizumi scolded, helping Kuroo take a much needed drink of water. “Keep letting him go for the first hit, let him come to you. Make your hits count, don’t be afraid to get close.”

The next round went by too quick for Kuroo’s comfort, he followed Iwa’s instructions, but Ushijima’s hits were merciless, like every bit of his weight was put into each punch.

Iwa’s second pep talk was blocked out by the slight ringing in Kuroo’s ears. His eyes were focused on Ushijima, basically lounging in his corner. Then he looked (Y/n)’s way, and to his surprise, she was looking back at him. She didn’t look sad, or disappointed, or even angry. But there was a fire in her eyes, one he saw in his own the weeks prior to the match.

He didn’t know how long he had been staring into her eyes, he didn’t even realize he had been doing it until (Y/n) gave him a curt nod and mouthed something out to him.

Go get him.

Kuroo ignored the jeers and insults from the crowd, only focusing on the feeling of (Y/n) watching him as he made his way to the middle of the ring once more.

Ushijima went for the first hit, as always, only this time Kuroo sidestepped towards him and sent a hard blow to his face. Ushijima seemed surprised by this, and honestly, so was Kuroo. He felt like he needed to be on the defensive with an opponent like Ushijima, but that obviously wasn’t working.

I’m small, I’m fast, I can use that.

Kuroo allowed himself to get closer to his opponent during the rest of the round. He took some hard hits, but he delivered his fair share of them as well.

Ushijima moved backwards, attempting to get some breathing room, but Kuroo only followed. He hit Ushijima with an uppercut to his jaw. It was nasty, but not against the rules.

The hit sent Ushijima to the mat, where he stayed until the bell signaled the end of the round. The crowd was now on Kuroo’s side, but it was (Y/n)’s cheers that stood out to him the most.

He went to his corner with pep in his step, unaware that he was being followed. Before Iwa could start up another pep talk, (Y/n) leaned over Kuroo in his seat, forcing him to make eye contact with her.

“You just need to take him out one more time, okay?”

Kuroo sent her a questioning glance, only for her to lean in closer to him. “I bet a lot of money that you’d win two rounds of this. So even if you lose, I’ll make sure you get paid tonight… You already got him looking scared, just finish him off…”

“Ifm I dimdt hamf tihs moumthguard im righmt mow, I’d toadally kith you.” he said, watching as (Y/n) stood straight and crossed her arms.

“I hate that I understood exactly what you said,” (Y/n) mumbled, earning a blush from Kuroo, “Now get back in there.”

Kuroo made his way into the ring with a goofy smile on his face. He tried his best to hide it when he faced Ushijima, but he knew the giant had caught a glimpse of it. And he was not very happy about that.

Kuroo took some hard hits during that round he figured it was punishment for getting too cocky after winning a single round. After a minute or two, he was on the mat, breathing hard as he felt one of his eyes Ushijima landed a hit on already swelling.

Kuroo could see (Y/n) through his blurry vision, she was hollering for him to get back up, screaming like a madwoman. With a grunt he forced himself to get up just before the bell could ring. His movements were sluggish, but he knew if he could crowd the giant again, he could knock him down and end the round.

It took some hard work, but Kuroo had eventually wrangled Ushijima into a corner. He began landing merciless blows to his gut, hitting him with combos while ignoring Ushijima’s defensive hits to Kuroo’s back and face. Eventually, Kuroo hit Ushijima with another uppercut that floored him and ended the round.

Kuroo didn’t waste a lot of time in his corner, he knew Iwa would try to tell him to take it easy or take the L with grace, but Kuroo was riding this high to victory. He drank his water and ran back to the center of the ring, where Ushijima was waiting for him.

He quickly regretted not taking a moment to rest, he felt like cinder blocks were tied to his feet, this was the most exhausting thing he’d ever done. One hit and he would be out.

Kuroo spared a quick look at (Y/n), hoping she could fuel his fire again.

Then Ushijima swung at him with what felt like the gusts of a thousand winds.

Kuroo spun in place, the force of the punch making him do a 180 turn in place. Shit, his mouthguard even flew out from between his lips.

His vision went black once he smacked against the mat.

—————————————

Kuroo woke up to a stinging feeling on his cheek. His whole face felt like it was on fire, Jesus his whole body felt like it was burning. He forced his eyes open, only to be met with the sight of (Y/n) practically in his lap as she pressed an alcohol pad to his face.

“Sleeping Beauty’s finally up,” she said, keeping her tone light as she tossed the pad in a nearby trashcan.

Kuroo looked around unfamiliar surroundings only for (Y/n) to hold his chin and still him. “Don’t move so much, hot shot. You’re in my apartment above the gym.”

She took a small, open container out of the first-aid kit resting on the nearby coffee table and began gingerly rubbing the wounds on his face with what he guessed was ointment.

“I didn’t win, did I?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

(Y/n) gave him a sad smile. “No… but you still made some good money tonight. And now you got a nice ice bath with your name written all over it.”

She wiped the remnants of the ointment off her fingers and onto his shorts. (Y/n) tossed the container into the first-aid kit, making a move to leave, “Iwa will be back soon with some food for us, so we should get you in the bath now.”

(Y/n) struggled for a moment to hoist Kuroo onto his feet. If he had to guess, Iwa helped (Y/n) get him up the stairs and onto her couch after the match.

She led him to her tiny bathroom, motioning towards the tub already filled with ice cold water. “Just sit in there and relax your muscles, I need to go downstairs and wash your stink off of me.”

“You don’t wanna join me?” Kuroo asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her despite the pain.

“You look half dead and that’s all you can think about?” (Y/n) asked, trying to bite back her smile.

Kuroo shrugged, “I feel half dead, but I think you could help with that.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes before lightly pushing him towards the tub, “I am helping. Now get in the tub.”

Kuroo snickered and began tugging down his shorts, not even waiting for (Y/n) to leave the restroom. She practically sprinted out of the bathroom once she caught sight of his v-cut, causing him to laugh heartily before getting in the tub.

Once he was settled, he noticed some clothing in his size on the toilet seat beside him. She had probably set it aside earlier for him. He smiled to himself before sinking further into the water.

He left the tub after about 15 minutes, knowing he would get sick if he stayed longer. Kuroo dried off and dressed himself before making his way back to the couch.

He took note of the clothing (Y/n) had given him, grey joggers and a black and white flannel shirt. They were comfortable, and somehow the perfect size for him. He would have to ask her about that once she was back from her shower.

Kuroo had to keep his jaw from dropping when she came back. She wore a pair of tiny sleep shorts and a loose tank top, her moist hair dripping onto the material and causing it to cling to her skin. Kuroo couldn’t help but feel like she had given him those grey joggers out of more than just the kindness of her heart.

(Y/n) locked the door behind her and approached the couch, sitting on the far end of it, much to Kuroo’s dismay. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better. Much less dead.” he replied.

“You’re bleeding. I think from one of your stitches” she sighed, reaching back into the first-aid kit for an alcohol pad. Kuroo hadn’t even noticed the stitches, probably because they were on his forehead and under his bangs where Ushijima landed a particularly nasty hit.

“Think it’ll scar?” he asked, shivering as (Y/n) sat closer to him and brushed his bangs back.

“Definitely, but it wont be too bad.” She said, brushing the pad over the wound and drawing a hiss from between Kuroo’s gritted teeth. “I think the ladies will like it.”

Kuroo chuckled, shivering as (Y/n) used the cool pad to clean the blood that had dripped down his face. “There’s only one lady that I want to like it…”

(Y/n) pulled back, rolling her eyes at Kuroo’s words. “Me?”

“No! God, so full of yourself!” Kuroo smirked, laughing as (Y/n)’s jaw dropped in shock.

“Okay, ass. Get a new nurse, then.” she pouted, moving to get out of his lap only for Kuroo to pull her to straddle him. She made no move to get out of his hold, signaling him to continue.

“You know you’re my favorite nurse…” he cooed, watching (Y/n) intently as she nervously bit her lip. “But I still have some pains I need treated…”

“Yeah?” she asked, her body slowly relaxing against his as he gently rubbed her forearms. Kuroo playfully pouted at her, adjusting his body under her so he was sitting up against the arm of the couch.

“Here,” he said, pointing to one of his bruised cheeks. It looked like (Y/n) was in the middle of an internal debate when she leaned in and gently kissed the spot. Kuroo smiled as he watched her sit up and bat her eyes at him.

“Here,” he said, this time pointing at a spot on his chest covered by his shirt. (Y/n) narrowed her eyes at him before slowly unbuttoning the shirt and running her fingertips down his toned stomach. She pressed another gentle kiss to the spot he had pointed out, this time allowing her lips to linger on his flesh before parting from him.

Kuroo could feel the warmth between her thighs intensifying. He experimentally shifted his hips against hers, drawing a shaky gasp from her. He licked his lips before pointing at his bottom lip. “Here…”

(Y/n) leaned in close to him, brushing her lips over his teasingly. They both lingered, breathing each other in before finally allowing their lips to meet. Kuroo moaned at the taste of her, his hips stuttering against (Y/n)’s as his body responded to their kiss.

(Y/n) instinctively ground her hips against his, throwing caution to the wind as she deepened the kiss and wound her fingers through Kuroo’s messy hair. The kiss was wild and desperate, the needs of the two shining through as they gripped and ground against one another.

Kuroo suddenly hisses in pain, causing (Y/n) to hastily pull back and look him over. “Oh god, what happened?”

“J-just aching… I’m fine.” Kuroo reassured, adjusting his body under her.

(Y/n) bit her lip, “You’re too hurt, now's not the time…”

Kuroo cupped her cheeks and pulled her into another kiss, just as sloppy as the last. “Nuh-uh, I’ve been waiting for this for weeks,” he moaned against her lips, dragging his hands down her body to cling to her flimsy tank top, “I can handle a little pain…”

(Y/n) shivered at his words. She sighed shakily as she took his hands and slid them under her shirt, giving him permission to touch her bare skin. (Y/n) moaned louder as Kuroo nipped at her lips and tugged at her nipples, all while his hips worked at her core.

“Fuck- please,” (Y/n) begged into the kiss, struggling to tug the joggers past his sculpted thighs. The lack of boxers she provided him meant he was ready to go the second his cock was exposed.

Kuroo was in the process of tugging (Y/n)’s shorts off when they heard a knock at the door. (Y/n) groaned in frustration against Kuroo’s lips before adjusting her shorts and climbing off him.

“No-no-no, please, c'mon just send him away,” Kuroo whined, reluctantly pulling up his pants.

“I’m horny but I’m hungry.” (Y/n) sighed, fanning herself as she approached the door.

Kuroo grabbed the first-aid kit and placed it over his boner just as Iwaizumi and Bokuto entered the apartment.

“Hey hey hey! There’s our champ!” Bokuto cheered, holding up two packs of beer.

“I lost, Bo.” Kuroo smiled, hoping his friend wouldn’t press him for a hug.

“Well we got a nice consolation prize, 4 pizzas and plenty of beer to make you forget about how fucked up your face is.” Iwaizumi announced, earning an elbow to his ribs from (Y/n).

“No more playing around, let’s eat.” (Y/n) said, grabbing a box of pizza from Iwa’s stack and sitting beside Kuroo.

“Yes, m’am….” Kuroo teased, winking at (Y/n) as he took a slice from the box.

(Y/n) answered with a signature eyeroll before biting into her own slice of pizza.

Kuroo would have to continue their make-out session later. For now, he would celebrate his first match with his friends, and hope that he would win the next one.

If he got to kiss the girl of his dreams after a loss, he wondered what he’d get after a win.

[sweetaesuga]

in your heart | first date

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre: fluff, lil smut, established relationship au, fratboy jk! ex-fuckboy jk! bookworm reader!

warnings: language, mention of smut, jk being in love🥺

word count: 2.3k

synoypsis: jungkook decides to take you on your first date to the carnival.

timeline: takes place right after the events of in your eyes.

↳ masterlist

If someone ever disclosed to you that Jeon Jungkook would be taking you on a date, you'll laugh in their face. It was unimaginable to even believe that. Even standing in front of your mirror and checking your appearance for the tenth time so you looked spotless in his eyes, it still hasn't struck you.

But it does when he shot you a quick text that he's near and be set to emerge. And that's how the sensation in your gut tingled more, merely stumbling your mind on how you have a date with Jungkook, someone you thought you'll never be on one with.

jungkook💓: i'm outside cond out

jungkook💓: come*

You inhaled, brushing off your uneasiness. Making your way outside, you watched Jungkook's lips crane up into a smile from the sight of stunning image of you. You were only wearing a oversized yellow sweatshirt with denim shorts narrowly peeking out from underneath that. His eyes travelled further more towards your face, suddenly stopping once he saw chunks of your hair were missing. Your hair reaching at nearly the end of your shoulders instead of near your stomach, where it long rested for most of the time he's known you. Of course, it wouldn't have been an outfit for you if you didn't feature your yellow pins that held back the sides of your hair or your extravagant makeup, that today was a yellow eyeliner fading into white at the end with drawn daisies enveloped along your cheeks.

"Woah," you couldn't help obtain the smile that was flourishing onto your skin. You stopped in front of his black Mercedes-Benz that his parents gifted him for his eighteenth birthday. "You look incredible, fuck, I can't even think right now," you laughed, opening the door to get in. "I can't believe you cut your hair, oh my god you look so good."

"Thanks, you don't look so bad yourself," you winked at him, tugging your seatbelt across your chest.

"You kidding me? I look like fucking shit compared to you, my god babe, I don't think I'll be able to drive if I can't keep my eyes on the road."

He really couldn't keep his eyes on the road. Sensing his sight on you, you kept advising him to look back onto the road but in spite of everything they always come across of you. He just couldn't shake the image off his head. Your hair was short and you looked so delicate it drove him to want to take you from behind, equal to the way he did it in the fraternity bathroom a week ago. His palms curled tightly around the wheel, bringing back the promise he made to you the following day to take things slow.

But how could he? You looked so pretty seated besides him while humming the words to the song echoing throughout the car. He wanted nothing more than to be in between your legs, pounding into you ruthlessly while he whispered filthy things in your ears only to be met with your sullen whines.

"What rides are you excited for?" your hand laid on his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. It was almost like you were trying to provoke him, to pull over and take you in the back seat but by the curiosity in your tone he could deduce that those weren't your true intentions.

The one where you ride me, he thought glancing over at you in case some telepathy happened and you were able to hear him. "The one where it spins you around while you're strapped onto the sides."

"Of course you would be excited for that one," you giggled and removed your hand, disregarding Jungkook's breath of relief. "I feel like I'm going to vomit just by thinking about it, let's eat after we go on that one or the person besides me will have my food on them." he nodded, shuddering at the thought that it could be him ending up with food on him.

The drop tower and ferris wheel covered in bright colors with the purpose of standing out and attract residents, came into your sight. The big words of the amusement park’s name laying out in front of you. Jungkook glanced to see your lit up eyes, unable to contain his smile from your reaction.

"I swear, amusement parks bring out another side of you," he laughed, parking the car. You squealed happily, feeling nostalgic about being at one. Unbuckling your seat belt, you jumped out the car and paced over to the gates. Long forgotten, your date ran after you.

"They remind me of us when we were in high school. Gosh, do you remember when you practically forced me to go on the drop tower?" you laughed at the memory of Jungkook, who evidently never took no as an answer, I mean that's how he managed to land a date with you, begged you to come with him. He promised to hold your hand at all times even when waiting in line.  After long nagging and promises to buy you more books from Barnes & Noble, you agreed and you regretted it quickly. Your face was stuffed down a garbage can, throwing up the corn dogs that he treated you earlier.The embarrassment came when you looked up and discovered the people staring at you with compassion. Jungkook was nowhere nearby, perhaps holding your hair back rather he was flirting with a pretty brunette, attempting to receive her number.

"Don't remind me," he winced. He shook his head, getting rid of the memory. "I feel like a fucking asshole just by thinking about it. You didn't even talk to me for the rest of the day, hopefully it doesn't end like that."

His wishes became true. The night mostly consisted of laughter and Jungkook being the best boy ever. First, you went to the carousel. Jumping onto one of the horses while Jungkook took a seat right next to you. Second, you made your way over to the ride Jungkook was so eager to get on. Although it appeared scary to just be standing up and bound onto a wall while it spun, it was incredible. The only sound traveling through your ears was Jungkook’s cackling. Tears were brimming in your eyes by the end of it, not registering how hard you both laughed during all of it. The rest was sort of a blur to you, dragging Jungkook from ride to ride and more laughter.

You even faced the drop tower again. Hand resting against Jungkook's sweaty palm, he cautioned you to not look down to keep you from panicking. You kept your sight in front of you, watching the ferris wheels lights glow. Jungkook paid more attention to his feet hanging in the air, rather than the pretty sight in front of him, kicking them high in the air.You opened your mouth to ask him if he thought it was taking too long but before it could push past your lips, you suddenly drop to the floor at full speed. A horrific scream is let out, you don't even realize it's yours until you come back to your senses. Jungkook yelled out happily, legs kicking frantically while trying to pry his eyes open.

That man was insane.

You still thought that when you stared at him while he ate his hot dog, commenting on the flavor and combination every minute. A little ketchup is left behind near his lips, you reached out to clean it off. He stopped talking about how the bread didn't go with the sausage, eyes focused on you. You smiled at him before turning to look at the children in front of you blowing bubbles into the air while forcing their annoyed father to watch them. Jungkook's gaze is locked on your face, observing you munch on your corn dog.

"I seriously can't get over you with that haircut," he grinned as you whined at him to stop mentioning it. "I can't help it. You just look so pretty. What made you want to cut it anyway?" he took a bite out of his hot dog. His doe eyes gleamed with curiosity.

"I've always wanted to cut my hair short," you admitted, moving your corn dog higher so you wouldn't have to stick it down your throat to eat the rest. "It's just—you mentioned that you've always liked me with my long hair so I never tried cutting it so I could try to somewhat impress you. I was going to cut it a week ago."

Jungkook smiled at you when your cheeks flushed. "I do like you when your hair is long, it reminds me when we first met," he watched as your smile surfaced. "Your hair was fucking long when we met and overtime it kept getting shorter. But I don't care about how you look. You could be bald and I'll still want to be with you. Even though I won't have anything to hold on to when I fuck you, I'll have a plunger—"

"Okay, shut the fuck up you just ruined the mood," you rolled your eyes while Jungkook laughed at his own joke. He finished the last of corn dog. "Come on, let's go ferris wheel."

"Oooooo, are we going to be making out when we get to the top?" he's quick to grasp onto your hand, holding it tightly around his larger one. He's half joking but is serious about it. It's been a week since the frat party and his body was begging to touch you.

"No. I don't kiss on the first date," you smirked and walked in front of him. His eyebrows furrowed. So you weren't giving to fulfill his cravings of being able to feel you again.

"What the fuck do you mean you don't kiss on the first date? But you let me fuck you before the first date so it doesn't really matter."

"Actually it does. Remember what we said?" you glanced behind you to make sure he can hear you. "We said we'll takes things slow."

"I've waited too long," he whined, stomping on his feet and resembled a little child.

You shook your head, lining up to have a turn on the ferris wheel. Jungkook looked down at his feet, playing with the little pebbles. "Aren't you cold?" his sight on your exhibited legs, remembering how they looked spread out for him. "You should've worn some sweatpants or something that doesn't leave you freezing."

His concern over you being cold only expanded your smile even more. "I'm fine, Jungkook," he frowned at your response but kept nagging you about how you should've put something more comfortable on. "It is, they're extra stretchable," you moved along the line.

"They must be, for them to fit around your ass," you squealed when he pinched your butt. He earned a glare from the lady behind you but his attention was solely on you. You batted his hands away before giving him a warning to keep his hands to himself. You move forward leaving Jungkook behind. He called out your name and you turned around. He's pointing to the height requirement sign with a huge arrow where all passengers must stand at. "I don't think your short ass can get on," he joked. You sent him the middle finger, facing forward.

You remained like that until you were hopping onto one of the passenger car, Jungkook following close behind. His shoulder pressed up against yours as he pulled you closer. The two of you moved up, waiting for other people to get on before it could actually could commence.

Jungkook rocked the car back and forth slightly. You whined and slapped his chest but he only laughed at you and continued doing so. "Stop doing that, you know I'm not good with heights," you both looked out of the car, watching the lights from the amusement park light up.

The ferris wheel began moving, taking you back slightly. The neon colors popping out in the dark. The children holding their glow sticks and other toys that lit up can be seen from where you're seated. Jungkook pulled out his phone, aiming it towards it all.You squealed and hid your face when his camera travelled over to you. His laughter was enveloping your hearing and you felt like the teenager all again who had a fat crush on him and just enjoyed spending time with him.

He put his phone away, telling you he'll stop taking pictures. Peeking out from behind your hands, you saw that he's already smiling at you. "I can't fucking believe I managed to win you over," there's a huge lump on his throat but he forced his words out anyway. "I swear to god I won't fuck this up. I really want to be with you and I'm so sorry for not reciprocating your feelings earlier, it would've saved us a lot of time."

"Shh," the cart finally stopped at the top. "We have all the time in the world now. It's okay, we're okay now." Jungkook stared down at you, begging on the inside for a kiss. The timing was perfect, you were at the top, it would be like a perfect romantic first date story when he tells his family and friends about it.

You leaned forward to meet his lips, hand gripping onto the back of his nape. His lips moved furiously against yours, the car beginning to move once again. He pulled away, mind coming down from the blissful state he was in. Jungkook stared into your eyes before breaking out into a smile. He wondered if it's a dream, if he'll wake up from it anytime now and go back to just being your friend.

It really wasn't however, you were finally in his arms.

a/n: the only reason why i wrote in your eyes is so i can create a drabble series of the couple so i’m happy that i’m finally doing it🤧

[uwua3]

drivers license.

🍁📸 fushimi omi

summary: omi receives his license and goes to the cemetery to celebrate

warnings: angst, anxiety, arguments, car crashes, driving, family trauma/issues, grieving/mourning, major character death/parental death

author’s note: if you are going through the loss of a loved one, please remember you will always have people in this world who support and love you endlessly ♡ you are not alone and you will make it through. i believe in you with all my heart—i cannot tell you it’s okay, but i can tell you it’ll get better. please keep trying, it’ll be worth it. i hope you wake up tomorrow with a lighter heart, i love you

this is not romantic! this is a headcanon i have of omi’s family history as he only lives with his father and two brothers (ＴｗＴ。) thank you!!!

word count: 2,619

music: drivers license – olivia rodrigo

I GOT MY DRIVER’S LICENSE LAST WEEK

JUST LIKE WE ALWAYS TALKED ABOUT

‘CAUSE YOU WERE SO EXCITED FOR ME

TO FINALLY DRIVE UP TO YOUR HOUSE

Omi was the first person to pass his driver’s license test in his family.

His father wasn’t getting any younger, so his hands were hesitant and shaky every time they hovered over the stick shift. The buttons out of the corners of his eyes were much too confusing for his old brain so Omi’s father insisted on walking everywhere. As he grew older, the Fushimi household reached a compromise of taking public transport during the weekdays.

Omi’s two younger brothers weren’t old enough. They were still in their early preteen years, so getting behind the wheel wasn’t a legal option. As the oldest son, Omi took it upon himself to get into a four-wheeler and figure out all the tricky mechanics for himself. Hours and hours passed borrowing his friend’s vehicle, spinning around in circles in abandoned parking lots, and studying road laws.

When Omi learned all by himself and paid for it with his own money, his father clapped his shoulder with his usual proud smile and congratulated him.

The leather beneath his father’s wrinkled hands suddenly felt like skin, as if he could see right through him. When Omi took a moment to take a deep breath in, he closed his eyes and could almost see a younger version of his father. A father that wouldn’t be so close to retirement, that wasn’t so fragile and slow.

What did his father see? Could he see Omi was still the little boy sitting in the backseat all those years ago?

“That’s my boy! You’re just like your—” Omi didn’t want to hear the rest of the sentence, so he hurried upstairs and left his father alone in the corridor. Sometimes, he regrets it. But, most times, Omi’s glad he didn’t stay.

Whenever Omi got into a car after that, he sometimes still heard it in his head.

Omi knew he was like his mother.

BUT TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

CRYING ‘CAUSE YOU WEREN’T AROUND

YEAH, TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

‘CAUSE HOW COULD I EVER LOVE SOMEONE ELSE?

The first thing Omi did after receiving his license was visit his mother.

The car wasn’t preferable by any means, but it did its job. The seat creaked every time Omi had to adjust it, the air freshner didn’t make anything better, and there was no possibility that the air conditioning worked. But, the windows rolled down all the way, the wheels rarely ran out of air, and the car door only jammed sometimes. At the red light, Omi shifted and heard the crease of his jacket.

Omi didn’t know why he still wore it. Those days were long past him now, but the aged material made this whole experience a little easier. Before Omi could let himself reminicse, the light turned green and Omi automatically pushed forward.

Check the rear-view mirror. Two hands on the wheels at all time. Eyes on the road. Pay attention to stop signs. Be aware of everything around you. Omi repeated this again and again until the GPS on his phone announced he reached his location. Parking carefully, Omi let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding until everything stopped moving.

Picking up the small bouquet of flowers on the passenger’s seat, Omi locked his car and nodded at the security guard at the gates.

“Hi, Ma.” Omi said, pausing at a worn-down grave with the same flowers as last time.

“I got my driver’s license last week.”

AND I KNOW WE WEREN’T PERFECT

BUT I’VE NEVER FELT THIS WAY FOR ANYONE

AND I JUST CAN’T IMAGINE

HOW COULD YOU BE SO OKAY NOW THAT I’M GONE?

Omi sat besides her, leaning his head upon the cold grey stone. Like her tombstone, she was always strong, resilient, and offered a shoulder to cry on. Omi shuddered and wrapped an arm around the grave, as if she was still here.

“I did it.” Omi breathed and closed his eyes shut, hearing the distant rumbling of a thunderstorm. Even though Omi knew he should’ve left to get ahead of the rain, his legs were too weak. He couldn’t move without feeling like he was going to crash and burn.

“Ma... it was so hard.” Omi finally admitted to himself, squeezing the plastic of the bouquet in his hands and distracting himself with the crinkle. “Every time I sat in the driver’s side, I thought of you. I was... I’m so scared.”

Silence, before a clap of thunder. Omi flinched, hiding his face in the grey. “You were such a good driver, you followed every single rule. You should’ve been the one to teach me...”

Omi hated this feeling, like he was selfish for wanting his mother to be here with him. But, he knew he was right. Omi shouldn’t have had to suffer through panic attacks by himself. Make close calls with no one by his side. Balance school, work, family, and driving every single day. Omi could feel the exhaustion in his bones, as if he was the one who was dead.

“Pa couldn’t. Ever since...” Omi didn’t dare relive the tragedy. All he could bear was the inhumane screams, shattering glass, and alarms of the ambulance from miles away before snapping back to reality. “... the accident, he’s been so, so sad.”

It was an under-statement to say the Fushimi boys were struggling. Losing a parent didn’t hurt just emotionally, but financially as well. As Omi’s father picked up more shifts, more and more of that money went to medical bills that should’ve been years down the line.

“Your boys miss you so much. I miss you, so much. You would’ve been so proud... just like Pa. He said—” Omi’s voice cracked and he hated himself for it. Pulling the jacket tighter, Omi winced as the sudden gust of wind chilled his spine. The leaves rustled unceremoniously and Omi wished he could fly away, too.

“I’m just like you, Ma.” Placing the small flowers at the base of her grave, Omi read the faded engraving upon the surface until his vision was clearer.

Omi moved onto the next grave without a goodbye, because he’s had too many of those in this lifetime.

GUESS YOU DIDN’T MEAN WHAT YOU WROTE IN THAT SONG ABOUT ME

‘CAUSE YOU SAID FOREVER, NOW I DRIVE ALONE PAST YOUR STREET

After visiting his mother and Nachi, Omi returned to his car. It looked nothing like the car he almost died in. Back then, that car was big enough to hold a family of five snugly. Now, Omi’s car didn’t need all that room. His father would never get back into a car ever again, and his brothers could just sit in the back.

Resting his hand upon the car door, Omi didn’t have the heart to open it. Going inside meant driving home; driving home meant seeing his father flinch whenever the car pulled into the driveway. Driving home meant preparing dinner, making sure the boys did their homework, giving Pa his proper medications, doing homework, and barely sleeping. Going home meant being mom.

As the rain began to pour, Omi didn’t move. Soaked and unable to distinguish if he was crying or just stupid, Omi hung his head and let the water run over him. Was this his Ma’s way of crying for him? Omi didn’t want to know.

Omi finally yanked open the car door when a pair of glowing headlights passed by him. He nearly missed the splash of a puddle by his feet as Omi started the engine. Something was wrong. The usual ignition wasn’t audible and the lights barely illuminated the darkening path. Omi sat in the driver’s side with frustration that’s been growing ever since the car accident.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Omi swore, kicking the floor uselessly as he lifted his fist to hit the surface. Before he could slam his hand down, Omi sighed and simply hit the dashboard lightly at the last second. He had spent far too much money only to pay for repairs later on.

Omi pulled out his phone and checked, only to see no bars and no signal. Omi was cold, shivering, and crying in a cemetery and he had never felt more alone.

AND ALL MY FRIENDS ARE TIRED

OF HEARING HOW MUCH I MISS YOU, BUT

I KINDA FEEL SORRY FOR THEM

‘CAUSE THEY’LL NEVER KNOW YOU THE WAY I DO

Omi bought his first car after saving for months.

He honestly didn’t have to. Leaving behind the delinquent life meant making good friends. Friends that didn’t start fights, disobey the law, or be at risk of being put behind bars. Therefore, Omi had a friend that was willing to just give him a car.

“Come on, this is our gift to you. You don’t have to worry about this!” Omi’s friends insisted, trying to push the keys into Omi’s tight fists. No matter how much pressure was put upon him, Omi never faltered, just like stone.

“I’m sorry, but I... can’t take this.” Omi guiltily rejected the brand-new car. It was a model only rich people drove, the same exact demographic his friend was apart of. It was freshly washed with the proper tags and everything. Omi could’ve just taken it and saved thousands of dollars.

Except, he couldn’t. The car by no means was a vehicle he sat in before. But, the white color was the same. If Omi wasn’t paying attention, maybe he could ignore it. Yet every time he saw the exterior, it brought him back to that rainy day, desparately fumbling to rip off his seatbelt and wake his mother up.

“Omi... you can’t afford to say no...” They sympathetically tried to reason with him, but Omi was far gone. He backed up, nearly tripping with how hurriedly he stepped on his own heels. If he blinked, he could see the new car wrecked. If he didn’t focus, he could hear the sickening sound of the brakes failing.

“Omi, it’s been years since she—”

If he let himself get consumed by the past, he’d surely die.

“Thank you for this, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Omi bought a car a week later and when his father asked about price, Omi lied through his teeth.

“My friends saved up and bought me one for my birthday. Don’t worry, Pa. We can make the bills.”

Even when his friends sold it and tried to give him the money, Omi didn’t take it. His mother didn’t raise her son to take money from anyone.

Like mother, like son.

TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

AND PICTURED I WAS DRIVING HOME TO YOU

Omi left the windshield wipers on, watching as the rain drops got caught in the way. The heating wasn’t functioning, so Omi huddled in on himself and waited for some sort of sign that he could make it home tonight. The radio crackled every now and then, making Omi jump every time a voice spoke a word before getting cut off.

The world continued on as Omi lived through another rainy dark sky. Omi remembered staring up at this type of sky, his back laid out on a stretcher and hand reaching for the closest family member. Omi mentally punched himself, finding that he was getting caught up in his own trauma much more often than usual. Ever since driving lessons.

When it got too much to handle, the assignments, the expectations, the pressure, Omi indulged in make-believe. Omi imagined an universe where he was driving home to be welcomed by the warm embrace of his mother. Where his father was standing taller, where his brothers left their rooms on their own accord, where he wasn’t the backbone of the household anymore. It didn’t do him any good to hope for something impossible, but Omi did so anyways sometimes.

Perhaps it was his punishment for not being the one who died that night.

As Omi swiped mindlessly through his phone, willing for a bar, a crack of lightning made his skin crawl. Yet, beneath the pounding rain, a single yell of shock alerted Omi to look up from his screen. A deep sense of familarity forced Omi to look past his window, hoping to see past the blurriness of it all.

At the sight of a dark frame, Omi didn’t think twice before hurdling him outside, barely able to close his door before stripping his jacket and throwing it around the man. The shivering man weakly holding onto an umbrella that did nothing but cause more problems.

“Pa?! What are you doing here?”

RED LIGHTS, STOP SIGNS

I STILL SEE YOUR FACE IN WHITE CARS, FRONT YARDS

CAN’T DRIVE PAST THE PLACES WE USED TO GO TO

‘CAUSE I STILL FUCKING YOU LOVE YOU, BABY

“Son!” Omi’s father happily greeted despite being on the verge of catching a cold. Omi held the umbrella over his father’s head, taking the brunt of the cold willingly.

“I took the bus here. I knew you’d be visiting her today, but it was quite late.” He explained, wearing a newsboy cap that he must’ve had since youth. The sight of his father with a runny nose and wet clothes at his expense set something off in Omi.

“Why did you come?”

“To bring you home—”

“What would’ve happened if you died?”

The sound of rain was defeaning. Omi’s father stopped, staring at his son like he was seeing him for the first time. Omi’s arm started shaking, his grip on the umbrella’s handle was slacking. The truth weighed upon his shoulders, like he was about to collapse.

What if the bus had crashed? What if something happened to Pa while walking to the cemetery? What if it was Omi’s fault? Before Omi could apologize, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders.

Omi dropped the umbrella.

SIDEWALKS WE CROSSED

I STILL HEAR YOUR VOICE IN THE TRAFFIC, WE’RE LAUGHING OVER ALL THE NOISE

GOD, I’M SO BLUE, KNOW WE’RE THROUGH

Omi couldn’t die.

Not when he raised his weak father that wasn’t getting any younger. He had to take care of his two younger brothers. Omi had to finish university, graduate, and be hired at a high-paying job to support his family. Fushimi Omi couldn’t die.

But, here he was, breaking.

“My boy, I’m not going anywhere.” Omi’s father said it so surely, like it was a promise he could control. Omi hesitated before resting his chin on his father’s shoulder, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of cologne. It was the brand his mother used to love, but he knew his father hated this one. It was so fitting, Omi refrained from crying.

“You’re so strong, I’m so proud of you.” Omi nodded, hugging his father with unsaid words he’d never be able to speak. Omi could never tell him his greatest fear was Pa dying. Could never admit that seeing his father react a second late makes him pace. Could never reveal he only went to university close-by in case an emergency occurred. Everything Omi did was for his father, his Pa, his only parent.

“She’d be so proud of who you are today. You are her son.” Omi’s father patted him once, twice, then pulled back. He rested his aged palm upon Omi’s cheek gently, just like his mother used to. His thumb ran over his scar with no judgment, just fatherly love.

Omi had never felt more loved.

‘CAUSE I STILL FUCKING YOU LOVE YOU, BABY

“You’re just like your mother, Omi.”

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

White female werewolf x female human?

You remember Rhys Pearson? Well, this is set in the same town, the same universe, etc. His older brother, Nicholas shows up, as a sort of counsellor to help rogue werewolves rehabilitate after being kicked out of their pack.

Some people are born with tornadoes in their lives, but constellations in their eyes. Other people are born with stars at their feet, but their souls are lost at sea. – Nikita Gill

Warning: some mild language and past assault.

The She-Wolf of Water Creak

They spoke of wolves and ghouls, of monsters that lived in men and hide with smiles during the days, revealing themselves to be the beast within when the moon was out and the air was cold. Water Creak thrived with its animals and beasts, and the creatures that lived here bloomed with the existence beneath twilight.

You should’ve known that living in this town was weird, but you had known that there was always something hiding beneath the roses, and secrets laid.

You sighed heavily, sorting Toby the large Great Dane out after his check-up and scan, before putting him into the shelter for the night. You were tired from a full day’s job working at the veterinary practice, your other colleagues had gone home for the day, leaving you to sort out everything and finalize any of the animals that were still staying overnight.

It didn’t take long before you got a text from your closest friend, Nicholas Pearson, the ding from your phone bringing you to look down at your phone for a brief second:

Hey, hope work wasn’t too rough for you. Nick.

You smiled down at your phone, sending off a quick reply back to him; ‘Couldn’t be as difficult for you I doubt?’ 

Aside from growing up as the oldest and living with four younger brothers, Nicholas had the toughest job of working as a rehabilitator and counsellor for people who were kicked out of rough homes and families. You could imagine working with delinquent teenagers could be quite a trouble.

Your phone buzzed beside you again, smiling as you shoved it in your pockets, gathering your things as you locked the doors and headed out into the empty parking lot.

You got into your dinky little rust-bucket, the same one you had been driving and had gotten you through Hell and back; Dahlia was quite the charmer and your love.

The engine roared to life and spluttered once and twice, before stilling to a steady rumble, and you headed out through the darkness with the little guidance of the streetlights to help you and the silver flickerings of the moon.

Driving home alone at night was quite troublesome and on the isolated roads were rather unnerving, but you managed to do it every night to get home; where you wretchedly lived quite far out of the small town and closer into the next one.

Your phone buzzed fleetingly once more, and you looked briefly for two seconds down to see that it was ringing. Damn it, if mama could see me now looking to answer my phone, she would kill me.

You briefly looked back up to meet the road, the clear roads seemed normal at first and normal, and you concentrated hard enough to look on both sides of the roads and forest areas, you hadn’t been able to predict that something would come out so soon. 

Sure, deer were unlucky to get hit sometimes, but this thing was faster and larger, and your eyes had just about adjusted into registering whatever it was dart across onto your side of the road, your foot hitting the brake at the last moment, but you weren’t fast enough in avoiding it, and the large thump and creak your head that came from your car was enough to make you spring forward.

Good thing you were wearing a seatbelt, but still. You came to realise that you had hit something, and judging from the knock against your car, it was quite big.

“Oh shit, oh shit, fuuuuck.” You swung your seatbelt off you, phone in hand as you stopped the car where you were, car door pushing open you stepped out, taking in what you had just accidentally hit. You were able to distinguish the large fluffy white pelt of it, the large body was hiding its head, but your mind was spinning.

Had you hit someone’s lovely dog? You would hate to imagine it, but you stepped around to the back of it, trying to look at it carefully. It was way too big to be a common dog, and you were sure of it-

-Your hands were shaking as you took the phone and could only dial the only person you could assume that could help you in this situation.

With the desired phone number in place and ringing, it didn’t take long for the phone to finally be picked up, the person’s deep rich voice bringing you back to reality.

“Yes, hello?”

“Nick, it’s me, erm, ah shit-- where do I begin?” Your voice gave off a shaky and nervous laugh, trying to stop your fingers from accidentally dropping it. “Whoa, what happened - are you okay?” His voice was immediate to show concern and shock for you. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, not sure if this dog I hit is.” 

There was a brief pause from the other end of the line, and you could hear Nicholas heavily breathing down the mic. “You hit a dog?”

“Yes, well no, but it can’t be a dog, it’s too big—it looks like—like a wolf –”

Nicholas slowly and carefully said your name down the phone, his deep voice grave. “Whatever you do, turn back around and take it back with you to the practice, I’ll meet you there.”

“Wait, Nick, I-“ You heard the end of the line cut out, the buzzing of the phone bring your attention to how lonely and daunting it was being out here. Looking back down at the large creature, you could feel the prang in your heart, the desperation in wanting to know it was okay.

“Okay, big guy, I’m gonna get you back, and you’ll be in good shape.” You murmured in reassurance to yourself, putting your phone in your pocket as you bent down to gently try and touch the fur. Its fur was matted and worn as if it had years of neglect and mishandle; the coat knotted and a faded white from mud and grime.

Poor thing has seen the wars. You dreaded, carefully putting your arms around its large torso, your hands quivered when you could feel through the coat and feel the bones; realising that it was malnourished.

The creature gave no noise when you attempting picking them up: having had the experience of having to pick up much bigger dogs onto the table for check-ups, this one must’ve been the same weight as any other normal dog - which put worry into how badly they needed help.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be okay,” You comforted once they were in the back seat of your car, making sure to get them warm as they rested their large head on the seat; the muzzle bloodied and soaked, their eyes remained closed as if in a heavy sleep, “I hope though.”

You made your way back to the practice in record time: using the back entrance and double-checking that you were still alone. No sign of Nicholas anywhere which got you pondering. You heaved the injured wolf onto the gurney, laying them flat as you rushed to get everything you needed.

One IV drip, a box of first aid and water later and you had gotten it set up, watching with your fingers twiddling, chewing them in silent contemplation, watching over the poor creature. “Where was Nick when you need him?” He thought aloud, your hand coming to get your phone from the table.

Speak of the devil, and he will appear: you hand stopped when you heard the back door trembling and squeak, someone trying to come in when you clearly remember shutting and locking it when you were inside. You would have to apologise for it, but you wanted to work with no disruptions.

You hurried to the door, opening it to see the large man in front of you, towering in the doorframe. Nick had grown to be the tallest still of his brothers and just as muscular as them, from a little boy who was as scrawny as a chicken. His deep amber eyes staring you down as you hesitated with your words. 

“I can explain.” You began.

“You can explain later, right now you’re lucky I’m not calling an ambulance for you.” His voice was a deep timbre, his large arms coming to circle your shoulders, squeezing them, his tall figure lowering so he was more to your height. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, Nicky,” Your face breaking out into a smile, puffing out your chest, “Nothing can take me down.” 

“That’s good, you’re hard as nails, stronger than Rhys that’s for a fact.” Nicholas cracked a broad smile, seeming to recollect, before he head rose, eyes alert as if he had sensed something sour in the air. “Is she here?”

“How do you know it’s a female?” You questioned, moving aside as he powered in, seeming to know on instinct where to find her, you trailing behind him when you had entered the small room; the light flickering as you had looked around to familiarise yourself. 

It seemed... odd for Nicholas to know something like that when you hadn’t told him.

“Where is she?” Nick asked, your eyes trailing to where the large wolf had once been lying on the gurney, now nothing was left as if the wolf had disappeared in a puff of smoke; only remaining the IV drip that had been discarded to the floor.

“She was here, I swear.” Your heart dropped at the thought, a wild animal wandering and prowling in the practice, or maybe had even escaped back into the outside world, but you would’ve been certain you would’ve heard something like a window crash open.

“She didn’t get too far, she’s still here,” Again, another odd comment for someone who wasn't there, but Nick scanned the room with the expertise of a detective, his eyes suddenly widening as he called your name, abruptly grabbing you and pulling you to him with inhumane speed. “Get back!”

You knew without Nick there pulling you out the way you would’ve been possibly hurt, but you had expected something to scamper out from the darkness of the small room. Your eyes thought that you had seen bare flesh, muddied and caked, a figure rushing past you on its hind legs.

“Nick!” You hesitated, feeling the larger man pull you away to the wall as he blocked the entrance with his strong frame, your eyes finally landing on what was scampering in the room. 

You took in their bare flesh, a young woman as naked as the day she had been born standing in the room in a defensive stance, back hunched, as panicked and feral as a stray.

The woman snapped and snarled towards him, her dark hair the same colour as the dirt splattered on her pale skin, hazel enlarged eyes taking in any route of another exit.

“Easy,” Nicholas brought her back to look at him, her head snapping back to the man in the entranceway, a hand coming up to hold her attention, his voice relaxed and calm, “Antonia.”

“Fuck off,” the woman hissed, her voice riddled with paranoia. You had seen this behaviour in nervous dogs; dogs that didn’t want to be in an unknown place when they were afraid. It was even more confusing about how Nick knew her. “I don’t need your help.” 

“You do, you’re confused.” Nicholas consoled her gently, slowly removing his jacket from him, his eyes never leaving her. “You’re injured, please don’t do anything that will worsen your health.”

The woman known as ‘Antonia’ seemed to visibly calm down in her spot, her hunched shoulders relaxing, watching with nervous eyes as Nick handed her his jacket. With no hesitation, she snatched it off him, before quickly putting it on to cover herself.

“Good, good, sit down, you’re safe here.” Nicholas motioned, his eyes landing to you in the back corner of the room, your eyes wide like dinner plates. In his amber eyes, you read the one thing that must’ve been on your mind since this entire hassle.

‘I’ll explain everything, I promise.’

-

You handed the barely dressed female a glass of water, gently putting it on the table she sat on, watching her short legs swinging as stared the two of you down. “So, she’s a wolf?” Your voice gradually came back to you when you could finally speak.

“A werewolf, yeah-- our kind has lived in these areas for a few hundred years,” Nicholas explained sparingly, and when you turned to him, you gave him a quizzical look. “Our? Which means-”

“I’m a werewolf.” He confessed, looking over your reactions as you looked back over Antonia. “My job is to rehabilitate rogue wolves who have been rejected by their pack.”

Nicholas looked to you, gauging your reaction through your facial expressions. “Say something at least.”

“What is there to say, really? You turn into a big wolf every full moon when I thought all of that was just scary fairy tales that I read when I was a kid.” You sighed. “Nicky, why did you never tell me?”

“I didn’t want to scare you or you think I was mad.” His voice resounded in his throat, moving his eyes dejected. “You’re my friend, and I didn’t want that to go away.”

“Hey, you’re my friend, and you will always be my friend, no matter if you’re a werewolf or human,” you cracked a smile, chortling to yourself, “maybe the big bad wolf should be your new nickname.”

“Oh please.” Nick was next to laugh over the silence. When you finally looked back over to him, your mind wandered back to the rejected wolf. “What do we do with her?”

“She’ll need somewhere to stay for a while, whilst I find her a new pack or somewhere to live momentarily.” Nick sighed to himself as if already knowing something you didn’t. “Which comes the next thing that you will hate.”

You crossed your eyes over your chest, dreading the question that would be asked for you. “You want me to look after her?”

“Look, it won’t be for long, just until I find her a good place to live, somewhere that will keep her safe and she will be wanted.” He pleaded, “It won’t be for long, I promise, and I’ll make it up to you after.”

Your bottom lip came out in thought, sighing in defeat as you knew you couldn’t say no to him. “You owe me ice cream. Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough, got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” Nicholas grinned, welcoming you into a tight hug. “Thank you--- you make this easier for me.”

-

The door to your small house swung open, your new roommate came bounding in with excited curiosity, sniffing around the new place she would be staying in. You, on the other hand, had heaps of shopping and new clothes you had just bought for Antonia, your arms failing to hold everything up.

“Okay, the bathroom is on the right, you can have the couch, it becomes a sofa bed, Nick said-- hey, don’t touch that!” You threw the bags to the kitchen counter, glaring over at the brunette, “Toni, are you listening?”

Antonia seemed to drop what seemed to be your Alexa with a clunk to the floor, luckily it had been carpet down to lessen the blow, as she trained her eyes on you once more, “What did you call me?” Her hazel eyes were wide with keenness.  

“Ah crap, no I didn’t realise, I’m sorry, it’s only because I don’t know many Antonia’s—and I thought Toni was a cute nickname –”

“– No, don’t worry about it,” The she-wolf gave a small smile to herself, and you could’ve sworn her cheeks had deepened into a flush pink, “I like it.”

Antonia had spent a couple more weeks with you, feeding her seemed to be a nightmare (for a girl her size, she ate twice as much as you, thrice more if a wolf, especially when raiding the bins) and bringing her back to her normal weight – which fortunately didn’t take too long.

Her skin was flush with colour, her deep brown hair became full of life, her eyes did too when you got to open her up little by little, each day being a step to progress and learning more about her. There was little to know about her previous life in a pack, but you were sure that you would accidentally do something to provoke her.

You laid out a blanket in the abyss of your garden, the sparkling golden fairy lights brought the area to feel whimsical and full of wonder; the flush plaid blanket kept your bare legs warm in the cool air, waiting.

The silver moon was once again out, full and brighter as a silver coin; a full moon, and you were waiting patiently.

“I knew I could find you here.” The voice of Toni brought your attention on her as she appeared through the small trail of brushes and flowers slowly, treading barefoot to come to you bare as the day she had been when you first saw her. You had been courteous to not look at her body; the shape she had built although she was still quite lithe.

“Thought I could spare you some time out here.” You threw over your own t-shirt long enough that you slept in it to her, hearing the crumpling of it go over her head as she came to sit down beside you. From this light, her skin glowed beneath the moon, her eyes hauntingly beautiful.

“It’s nice out here.” You breathed in the fresh smell of moss and yellow wood. “Not the same as running barefoot across it, now that’s the best feeling in the world.” Toni stretched out before you like a cat beneath the sun rays, and it made you ponder what it would be like owning the small animal, living together.

“Toni—there is something I wanted to ask you.” Your mouth was dry from the apple cider you had laid out before the two of you; it must’ve gone to my head.

“What is it?” She asked peacefully, turning to look back on you. From her eyes alone, you thought you could’ve melted. “Nick called me today, he told me… he said that he found you a place, a place of your own for a community to live among.” You forced a smile onto your lips, wanting to believe she would be better off without you. “How amazing is that?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so.” Her voice lingered, and you looked back on her puzzled. “What’s wrong? Is it not what you want?”

“I lived all my life in a pack relying on people when they didn’t want me. A bitch from the Seventh Hell, Rogue She-Wolf-- I was an outsider, never truly belonging with anyone. I’m done living with a pack, done with never feeling wanted when all I wanted was to live alone.” Her words were calm with how she responded, but you knew deep down, they hurt.

“What happened in your old pack, Toni? What did they do?”

Toni gave a chortle, nonchalantly looking to the ground as she picked at the weeds. “My parents thought they could marry me off to the Alpha- a big brute of one who was more of a monster than man. I declined the offer, but it must’ve pissed him off to of been the one rejected, so, he got some of his friends to come to find me, and well...” her hand came to restlessly play with her hair, her words drying, “They weren’t good with me, nor did they stop when I begged for them-- pleaded with them.”

Your immediate response was to circle an arm around her, bringing her close to you as you hugged her close. “You will never be treated like that again, I promise.”

“That’s the thing, wherever I go, to this place or if I go back, they’ll always be someone like them waiting to latch themselves onto me.” A wrack of a sob went through her, and you coddled her how a mother would calm their child.

“I don’t want to go.” Her voice was a mere whisper.

You were quick to ask, too quick to think about it. “What about here? Why not stay here? Unless you have grown bored of me.”

Toni gave a sad laugh, coming close as she raised her head, landing her soft lips against your cheek. You stared down at her, astonished, your cheeks blushing. “You’ve always been so kind to me and I don’t understand why. So many times I have believed you were annoyed with and never once did you send me off.” She said your name in a soft murmur. “Thank you.”

The two of you looked at one another, and never did you realise how close she was to you, her faint breath a gentle kiss against your face, and when you looked down to her lips with a sheepish look, she leant closer into you.

She looked nervously back to you briefly, as if hesitant. “You and Nick aren’t-”

You cottoned on to her words. “Oh God no.” You laughed brightly. “And besides, there’s this half-elf who he sees around that he doesn’t have the balls to ask out. But I always try to get him to - Mmph!”

Antonia had leant close to you with her hand cradling the side of your face, pulling you to her as she pressed her lips to ours, reassured and growing confidence. You brought your hands to go around her waist, feeling her soft skin as you squeezed at her hips.

You pulled away with a gasp, and the knowing smirk from Toni, her bright grin was enough to bring the two of you to start giggling, enclosed by the peaceful nightfall.

You didn’t need to be reminded that she would leave, not in a very long time anyway. And besides, she had you now.

[jeongyunhoed]

You’re traveling to another dimension It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity It is the middle ground between light and shadow, Between science and superstition It ties between the pit of man’s fears and the summit of his knowledge This is the dimension of imagination

An ATEEZ Twilight Zone!AU (masterlist here)

A/N: If you thought Jongho’s was dark, and if Hongjoong’s was dark, it’s about to get even darker. Also, this is our sexy guy’s bonus chapter for this AU. I hope you all enjoy it. I actually had to pause in between writing because it scared the hoohah out of me. 

T/W: Death. Enough said. 

XIV. Detour (Wooyoung)

3:00 p.m.

Jung Wooyoung bid his parents and his siblings goodbye while he placed his bags in the backseat of the car after staying with them during his vacation. He was currently on a two-week vacation after what felt like a year of working one project after another as a cinematographer at the production company he worked for. The job was hard and demanded long hours at a time especially when principal photography began. Casting people alone would take weeks at a time unless nearly direct connections were present and there was a lot of money in the budget. The company he worked for made several film-festival qualifying entries, two of which were nominated for major awards. 

He got in the car, promising to call his mother up when he arrived at his next destination, this time to spend the remaining days of his vacation with some of his friends at a water park. The trip was going to be long and Wooyoung took note of the stops he might make along the way. Wooyoung had already consumed enough coffee for him to stay awake. As he turned his car to one exit, he heard something pop, making him accidentally lose control of the wheel upon paying attention and skidding towards the shoulder of the road. 

It was times like these that Wooyoung was glad to have worn a seatbelt. He reached over to his bag for his phone and got out of the car. Wooyoung turned to call emergency services for help and waited while he looked at the flat tire that his own car was now sporting. He was going to be a little behind schedule at this point, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. 

The mechanic, a tall young man by the name of Jeong Yunho arrived, parking his car close by. “What’s the problem?” He asked, lugging his tools. 

“I don’t think that’s a regular flat tire, isn’t it?” Wooyoung asked, pointing at the damaged wheel. 

Yunho bent down to take a look at the wheels, noticing everything else about the car he was driving. “You… you survived this?” He asked, unable to contain his surprise. 

“Yeah, I mean, I was wearing a seatbelt though, so yeah, I did,” Wooyoung nodded. “I feel fine, I’m not hurt, just behind schedule, you know? I need to get to the water park a little up north,” He explained. 

He noticed the mechanic look at him strangely, and then look back at the tires of his car. “You shouldn’t have called for a mechanic, somebody should’ve called for a hearse,” Yunho said, getting back up. 

“That bad, huh?” Wooyoung said, unsure of whether to feel relieved or offended. 

“You don’t have a spare tire in your trunk?” He asked. 

Wooyoung went to the back and opened the trunk. It was empty. “Oh, no, I guess I must’ve forgotten to pick one up before I came here. I was coming back from my family,” He replied. 

“Well, okay,” Yunho nodded. “I can replace your tire but so it doesn’t happen again, you’ll have to follow me into the nearest service station so I can get you a spare tire,” He still looked surprised, walking back to his own car to get the tire from his trunk. 

“Thank you,” Wooyoung replied. 

~ 

He was on his way a moment later, following Yunho into the service station, still quite shaken from his little accident earlier. But at least he could still drive, he thought, and pretty much everything still worked. As Wooyoung continued to drive, following Yunho’s car, he noticed a blonde man standing by the side of the road, trying to hitchhike. He was dressed like a black and white school uniform, only the ends of his sleeves were ripped, and his knees a little dirty, yet the shabbiness of his clothes didn’t take away from the fact that he was undoubtedly handsome. He looked exactly like the people Wooyoung’s company would cast in videos. The male even managed to make a mullet look good. 

Wooyoung drove on, parking the car at the service station that Yunho led him to. “I’ll get you a new tire, I’ll be back in a second,” the mechanic said as he got out of the car, rushing inside the garage and into a back room. 

He looked through his bags for his wallet in case he had any extra money on him to pay for the mechanic’s efforts. Wooyoung stopped to glance at the rearview mirror, stopping for a moment in surprise when he saw the blonde man standing across the street from where he was. He stood back up when Yunho returned, rolling what would be a new spare tire for his car. “That guy across the street needs help or something,” He said, gesturing to the blonde across the road. 

Yunho looked over and raised a brow. “Is there? I don’t see anyone,” He said. “We can only take cash for now since our machine for cards needs fixing.” 

Wooyoung looked taken aback at his comment and nodded as he handed over a few bills when he heard the price. He looked over again to see the blonde still standing there, attempting to hitchhike but failing. The more he noticed the blonde, the more Wooyoung sensed that there was something unusual about him. He began to drive, knowing how behind schedule he was and how most of his friends were either already approaching their destination or probably waiting for him to arrive. 

~ 

Night had fallen and Wooyoung was still on the road, music softly playing from his speakers while he hummed along to stay awake. There weren’t many cars on the road alongside him, but to his surprise, as he was nearing another marker that indicated how far he still had to go, Wooyoung saw the blonde again. This time, he looked like he meant to flag him down. He kept going, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling he was getting, somehow it had gotten worse since he first saw him. 

The further along he went, Wooyoung was feeling more and more terrified. Every turn he went, he could see the blonde trying to flag him down as if having anticipated that he would be going in the same direction. It made him think about those documentaries he watched, about serial killer encounters often occurring in vehicles. Wooyoung needed to keep going if he wanted to get away from him.

He was approaching a railroad crossing soon after, and to his surprise again, Wooyoung saw the blonde standing on the other side of the tracks, hoping to flag him down. He wanted to step on the gas, only for his car to shut off all of a sudden. The last thing he wanted was to get caught, especially when someone like the blonde guy was trying to go after him. His heart was pounding in fear as he tried to restart the car just as the train was coming, passing in front of him. To Wooyoung’s relief, the car started again, but as the train was gone, the blonde was still standing there, trying to flag him down. 

Wooyoung stomped on the gas, the car speeding up as if wanting to outrun the blonde guy. He felt like he was a long way away again from where he wanted to go but he didn’t care. He was fearing for his life if he kept driving down the same road he planned to take. For all he knew, the man would be there. How could he know where he was driving? More importantly, who was he? 

He made a turn to the side road, entering the more rural parts until he noticed his car slow down. He had forgotten to get gas a few kilometers back, but his resolve remained. At least he was alive. Wooyoung pulled over and got out, sprinting towards the gas station just as the lone clerk, an old man, was about to close for the night. “Excuse me! Excuse me!” He called out, getting the attention of the clerk. “Excuse me! Sir!” Wooyoung called out again as he skidded to a halt. 

“We’re closed for the night,” The old man spoke. 

“Sir, can I please just have my car filled with gas? I’m in a hurry right now and my car won’t be able to make it any further if I don’t,” Wooyoung asked. 

“The guy who usually operates the machines went home already, he lives far away,” The man replied. 

“Please, I just need to fill my car with gas, I’m in a hurry and I’m already behind schedule,” Wooyoung pleaded. In the corner of his eye, he could sense someone was watching him. The more he tilted his head, he saw the blonde guy again standing across the street. “Sir, please, I’m…” He paused. “I’m in trouble, someone is after me, that guy across the street, he’s trying to kill me,” He lowered his voice. 

“Please, sir?” A young woman approached them, trying to appeal to the old man as well having overheard their conversation. “He does seem to be in a hurry, please fill up his car with gas.” 

“Oh alright,” The old man sighed, returning to the machines. 

“Thank you! Thank you!” Wooyoung was relieved, and he sprinted back to his car to drive towards the gas station. It was then he realized how late it had gotten. His friends were probably already enjoying themselves without him. He hated to think that they might have turned in for the night, played a round of games without him. But he couldn’t do anything about it. 

He pulled up at the gas station where the old man and the young woman was waiting. Wooyoung got out of the car and approached the young woman, who seemed to be staring at her phone, with a large duffel bag next to her. “Nice car,” She said upon seeing him. 

“Thanks, it’s been through a lot today,” Wooyoung said. “Are you going somewhere?” 

“Yeah, I’m hoping to catch a bus, but it looks like I’ll be waiting all night,” She said. 

“If you’re going my way, I could give you a ride? It’s the least I could do for helping me convince the guy to fill my car with gas,” Wooyoung suggested. 

The girl smiled. “Really? You’d do that?” She asked. 

“Yeah, I could use the company right now,” He replied. “Actually, I think I’m being chased, that’s why I’m in a hurry,” Wooyoung glanced across the street. The blonde guy was no longer there, but he realized that the male was already on his side of the street, staring at him. “That guy, that guy over there, he’s- He’s been following me.” 

The girl looked over to where he was looking, then gave him a look. “Guy? What guy? I don’t see anyone.” 

“The blonde guy, he’s over there,” Wooyoung added. 

“I don’t see anyone, I’m sorry,” The girl replied. 

“How could you not see? He’s over there,” Wooyoung pointed to the blonde guy, but the girl just shook her head. 

“There’s no one there, I don’t think you’re being followed, and frankly, I’m starting to feel uncomfortable,” The girl began to back away, getting up. “If that’s how you get girls to get with you, I should tell you I’m not easy and I can call the police if you take another step closer,” She took her bags and stormed off. 

“No! Really! No! Please!” Wooyoung groaned in frustration, his heart pounding as he could clearly see the guy staring at him and standing on his side of the road. He shoved a few bills in the old man’s hand when he saw that he was done and got back in the car, driving away quickly. 

It hadn’t been long before he had to pull over at yet another rest stop noticing that his phone battery had drained and needed charging. 

He got out of the car again, figuring that he needed another cup of coffee to stay awake for the rest of the journey. “Hello, may I please use your phone?” He asked the clerk, who nodded. 

Wooyoung dialed the numbers to his parents’ house. He needed to let them know where he was now, and maybe tell them about the man who was trying to follow him. “Hello?” He heard an unfamiliar voice on the other line. 

“Hello? May I speak to my mom? Mrs. Jung?” Wooyoung asked. 

“Mrs. Jung? She’s in the hospital right now, they all are,” The voice replied. 

He felt his heart skip a beat. “What? Why?!” He was unable to contain the panic that immediately sank in. 

“Mrs. Jung suffered a nervous breakdown. The news reported that her son, Jung Wooyoung, died in a car accident on the road somewhere,” The voice replied. “Apparently the car overturned when a tire burst or something.” 

Wooyoung couldn’t speak. It was then that everything today started to make sense, including the blonde guy’s constant appearance. No wonder the mechanic said he was surprised that he survived. He had long passed. Nothing mattered anymore. 

He returned to his car and got back in. Wooyoung looked up at the mirror and instead of his reflection, he saw the blonde guy staring back at him in his place. “I believe you’re going, my way?” He asked. 

Wooyoung could only nod in response. 

[jungshookz]

hi cee !! i just thought of how cute coach!jungkook would be where he trains little kids and one day y/n drops off her little brother at practice and sees this cute new coach and is suddenly volunteering to bring snacks for the next game lol

➺ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre: if it isn’t obvious by now this is 110% fLUFF, y/n is an obnoxious older sister but we love her, banana milk and animal crackers for everyone!!!!

➺ wordcount: 3.5k

➺ note: hi i want coach!jungkook to hurl a soccer ball at me thanks 

(gif isn’t mine!)

                                       ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“alright, twerp.” you crank the brakes before punching the unlock button on the dashboard “get outta my car.”

you push your sunglasses up to the top of your head before turning to look at lucas in the back seat and raising a brow

…

why is he not moving

“…mommy always walks me to the field.”

oh dear lord

you have places to be and people to sEE

more specifically you have to pick yoongi up at his apartment because you guys are going to watch that new spiderman movie together and you typically like to get there early so that you have more time to decide what you’re going to do in terms of snacks

“well, mommy didn’t drop you off today. sissy did.”

okay quick note: maybe don’T address yourself as sissy ever again

“-big boys walk themselves to the field.” you point out before glancing over at said field “y’know, lu, the world is a big, scary soccer field that you’re going to have to face alone one day…” you sigh and shake your head playfully as you yank the keys out of the ignition

of course you’re going to walk him to the field

you just like messing with him

“-you might as well get a head start now.” you unbuckle your seatbelt before opening the door

“…maybe next year, when i turn 6.” lucas mutters and kicks his legs against the seat

you can’t help but snort at his comment before shutting the door

your parents insist that lucas was planned but let’s be real

he’s more of a… happy accident!

the boy is sixteen years younger than you

he’s 5!

you’re 21!

a sixteen year age gap is never intentIONAL

nevertheless you still love him more than you love yourself

he’s a sweet boy!!!

he actually never went through the whole terrible twos phase and for that you are grateful because you’re pretty sure 18 year old y/n would’ve willingly flung him out the window in a heartbeat

and you know for a fact that he worships you

well

alright

not reaLLy

but he’s a good little brother and you’re a good older sister and you’re just glad that the two of you get along

you just like acting like he’s a little stiNker all the time because it’s fun seeing him get worked up

>:-)

“by the way, don’t tell mom i didn’t put your car seat in my car.” you help lucas out of the car before reaching in to grab his bag for him

you were going to be a responsible older sibling and put his car seat in for him but there were so many things to click and clack and lock and pop and honEstly you just didn’t have the energy to put it in your car so you just buckled him in and made sure to drive a little less recklessly

also you didn’t see the point in installing it in your car since this is going to be the only time you’re ever going to drop him off at his soccer practice session

your mom usually drops him off because duh

she’s m o m

but she had an emergency meeting at work and your dad is on a business trip for the entire week which means that yoU have to take care of him for the afternoon

which is fine!

except you made plans with yoongi, as mentioned earlier

which means you need to get this show on the road if you’re going to get back on the road to get to the show  

“okay, as long as you don’t tell mom i threw my grapes away.”

“wha- you threw your grapes away?!” you gawk at lucas as you shove your keys into your pocket “are you kidding me? you could’ve given them to me! those grapes were organic, too! they were the goOD juicy grapes!”

lucas smiles sheepishly before shrugging

goD

kids these days

throwing away their damn juicy organic non-gmo grapes

what a waste!

“what time am i supposed to come and pick you up again?”

“6:30” lucas hums in response as he swings his hand with yours

hm

the movie is set to end at 7

…how mad would your mom be with you if you made lucas wait an extra half hour in the dark for you?

u know what

it’s a risk you’re going to have to be willing to take

you are SO brave

not all heroes wear capes

“any preferences for dinner? mom won’t be home til late so it’s just the two of us.” you glance down at him as the two of you approach the field

there are already a bunch of other kids there with their parents

usually the parents just sit on the side and watch

and you would totally stay and watch but like…

spiderman > watching a group of sweaty 5 year olds running around and tripping over themselves

“mcdonalds!” lucas grins excitedly

he likes it when you’re in charge of dinner because it actually means that he’s in charge of dinner and he aLways likes it when he gets to choose what to eat for dinner

one time he asked for spaghetti tacos and you just gave him spaghetti tacos with no complaint

it’s amazing!

you’re a pushover for him and he knoWs it

“alrighty. but i’m getting the apple slices for you instead of the fries because you threw your grapes out.”

lucas immediately deflates

oh

u win some u lose some

“okay, bud. i’ll see you at 7!” you chirp before dropping to your knees to give lucas a goodbye hug  

“6:30” lucas corrects you smartly and you resist the urge to roll your eyes

uRgh

you don’t want to miss the ending of spiderman!!!!!!! what if you miss something mAjor that links to the next spiderman movie?!

whaTEver you’ll just watch it again when it eventually gets on netflix

anyways

back to business

one huGE perk of being an older sibling is the fact that you get to embarrass your younger siblings any time and anywhere

it’s your given right!

you’ve earned it

…and this is one of those times

“oH i’m going to miss my lulu so much-“ you’re practically suffocating lucas considering how tightly you’re squeezing him and you can’t help but giggle as you squish sloppy kisses to his chubby cheek

you don’t want him to ever grow up because you lovE kissing his cheeks

they were exTra chubby when he was younger

he’s starting to lose some baby fat :’(

lucas whines and starts to shove at your chest “stop it, my friends are watching!!!”

“well they’re just jealous because they don’t have an older sister as cool as-“ you immediately cut yourself off because-

holy SHIT

who the friG is thAT

it’s almost as if time itself slows down when you’re suddenly made aware of this very beautiful human being

warm brown eyes that you can already envision yourself drowning in

a bright bunny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth

honey caramel brown hair peeking out from underneath a plain black cap

two small, silver hoops hanging from his ears

he’s wearing a plain black hoodie paired with a pair of plain black shorts but somehow he’s making it look like he just walked straIght off a paris fashion week runway  

he has that boyish quality about him that’s making you weak in your knees

and to top it all off

he’s great with kids

your ovaries are quaking

he laughs and throws his head back before giving one of the boys a fist bump and getting back up on his knees

is it weird that you think his thighs are hot?

…yeah that’s a little weird

get it together

you pull away from lucas before resting back on your heels

you reach out to grasp onto his shoulders to make it seem like you’re having a serious conversation with him because let’s face it this is a very serious conversation

“lu. i’m going to ask you a question, and i want you to answer me honestly.” you look him dead in the eye

“…wha-“

“don’t make it obvious, but… is that your coach?” your eyes flicker over his shoulder and lucas whIPS around to look at where you’re looking

okay

way to make it nOt obvious

“mhm! that’s coach jungkook.”

huh

coach jungkook

that has a nice ring to it

he looks to be around your age which is vEry appealing

working man with a stable job

…you’re into it

lucas is obviously blissfully unaware of the way you’re practically drooling over his coach because the next thing you know- “hi coach!!!!!!” lucas waves wildly and starts bouncing up and down excitedly when coach jungkook glances towards your guys’ general direction

you immediately get up off the ground and reach down to dust your knees off

you should’ve worn something cuter had you known lucas’ coach was going to look like that

“hey, buddy!” jungkook leans down to ruffle lucas’ hair when he rushes over to hug his knees “you ready for a fun session?”

you feel your heart skip a beat when he looks up at you and offers you a friendly smile

o god

“hi! i’m jungkook.” he sticks his hand out for you to shake and oH sweet lord even his hands are pretty

“hi…!” you clear your throat and shake his hand briefly “i’m y/n, i’m… uh, i’m lucas’ sister. older sister.”

okay

you’re not sure why you had to throw in that last detail

you’re obviously his older sister you waLNUT

“ah, that makes sense. usually lucas comes with your guys’ mom, so i was just curious… are you going to stay and watch? there’s plenty of space to sit…” he gestures over to where the parents are and you’re about this close to texting yoongi and cancelling your guys’ plans together

spiderman

“she can’t!” lucas blurts out “-she’s watching spiderman with yoongi!”

uh oh

lucas is blowing your chances with coach jungkook right in front of ur eyES

“yoongi- riGht, yeah, i’m watching spiderman with- lu, why don’t you go and warm up with your friends, hm?” you nudge him a little and he nods before ziPPing right off to join his pals

a beat of silence goes by

“yoongi’s my friend. just my friend.” you clear your throat again before glancing at your watch

“good to know…!” jungkook trails off and purses his lips slightly

okay

this interaction is going downhill vEry fast

“i… should probably go if i’m going to get to the movies on time but thank you for the invitation to stay!” you chuckle lightly and jungkook nods in acknowledgement “i’ll see you later? when i come to pick lucas up? it was nice meeting you…?”

you are a hoT mess

you’re all over the place

why are you phrasing everything as a question?

what’s wrong with you?

you complete moron?  

jungkook can’t help but watch as you jog back to your car

hm

lucas never mentioned an older sister

a very pretty older sister, as a matter of fact

of course, lucas doesn’t really mention anything besides a) soccer, b) snacks, and c) power rangers

interesting

very interesting

“how come you’re driving me to practice again?” lucas’ brows knit together in confusion as he looks at you through the front mirror

needless to say he was very much confused when you came to pick him up from school… again

the act of you picking him up from school isn’t weird but usually you only pick him up maybe once every two months

but this is your sixth time picking him up this month

so yeah

it’s a liiiiiittle weird

“because i wanted to give mom… another day off!” you smile brightly and turn on your signal before smoothly swerving to the right and heading down the familiar path to the field

“oh.” lucas nods and slumps back down in his car seat

about five seconds go by before he speaks up again

“how come you have so many drinks and crackers back here?”

your eyes flicker up to the front mirror again and you see him leaning over to look into the huge tote bag sitting next to him

“you know, lu…” you sigh and shake your head “-as your generous, thoughtful, veRy caring older sister, i just want to make sure you have enough energy for practice which is why i took it upon myself to provide nourishment for you and your little friends!”

“…what’s a noorushmint-”

“-just out of curiosity-“ you veer right into your usual parking spot before cranking the brakes

you turn to look at lucas over your shoulder “has coach jungkook… said anything about me?”

“i- oOH banana milk!!!!!!” lucas grins excitedly and pulls one carton out of your bag

here’s the thing

as mentioned earlier this is your sixth time picking lucas up from school and driving him to practice

that means that this is your sixth time seeing jungkook

and each time, he somehow becomes more and more attractive which mEans that you progressively get more and more nervous and awkward-flirty with him each time you see him

every time he looks at you you get all weak in the knees and your palms get sweaty and you end up regurgitating some lame joke about soccer

every time he laughs at your lame jokes about soccer you feel your heart skip a beAt

and you’re obsessed with how attractive he looks when he’s focused on something

he does this thing where he pokes his tongue into his cheek and it just-

oOh it just gets to you

“hey, twerp-“ lucas glances back at you as the two of you start trekking down the grassy hill to get to the field “don’t tell your friends that you already drank a banana milk in the car otherwise they’re going think that i’m playing favourites which i guess i kinda am buT-“

“y/n!” you immediately freeze when you hear jungkook call your name and you neaRly trip over your feet in surprise “-let me help you with that!”

you swallow thickly before offering jungkook a bright smile “hey! oh, that’s so nice of you…” he takes the two tote bags from you eaSily

what the heck

you were out of breath just picking them up and he’s acting as if they’re as light as feathers

you feel your mouth go dry when you catch a glimpse of his biceps flexing

the lord is testing you toDay

“hi coach!” lucas greets enthusiastically

jungkook grins down at lucas before wiggling his brows “someone’s certainly very energetic today-“

“y/n gave me an extra banana milk and i drank it all in thirty seconds!!!!!”

well

he totally just blew your cover

“you said you wouldn’t tell!” you scold playfully and lucas giggles before dropping his bag to the floor and spRinting over to his friends

“banana milk, huh?” jungkook peeks into one of them before looking over at you

he loves banana milk!!!!!!!!

“banana milk and animal crackers.” you correct and jungkook raises a hand in defence

oh fRick

he loves animal crackers too!!!!!!

you are the girl of his dreams!!!!!!

,.,.,.but like.,,., in a super casual way

because he hasn’t known you for very long

but it’s safe to say that he’s already become veRy fond of you and your company

you’re super friendly

and you’re super funny

and you’re super pretty

it’s also super cute when you’re cheering on for lucas on the sidelines

whenever he scores a goal you jump up and down on your feet and clap suPer excitedly and basically scREAM for him

jungkook loves how supportive you are even though this is a kiddie soccer game and the stakes are so unbelievably low

and his heart melted into a warm puddle that time lucas tripped and scraped his knee and you imMEdiately rushed to his aid

you patched him up and even kissed his boo-boo!!!!!! (lucas was a little embarrassed by that) ((he wouldn’t have minded if u did that at home but u did it in front of all of his bROS and he’s like the resident Cool Guy))

it doesn’t get any cuTEr than that!!!!!!

and jungkook knows that he’s here to coach but he’s finding it vEry hard to do his job whenever you’re around

because you smell like warm vanilla and your laugh is contagious and your smile makes his stomach do flip-flops

and the fact that you brought snacks and drinks for the kids is honestly just the icing on the cakE

“wanna split a banana milk?” jungkook jumps in surprise when he feels a gentle tap on his shoulder

“wh- sorry, what was that? i was, uh, thinking about… stuff.” he clears his throat

wow

talk about s m o o t h

“i put the bag down for five seconds and the kids went wild but i managed to snag one carton without losing an arm.” you snort and poke the straw through the top “you wanna split one with me?”

he knows you’re not a mindreader but it’s taking every single one of his brain cells to try to noT think about how kissable your lips look right now

you turn slightly before holding the carton up for him to take a sip and you just have the cutest smile on your face right now and before he knows it he-

“do you wanna grab dinner sometime?” jungkook blurts out and his eyes widen in surprise when he realises that he just asked you out on a date

cuRse him and his complete lack of fiLTER

your own eyes widen in surprise and you blink owlishly

where did thAt come from

you’re not complaining or anything because yes of couRse you want to go out on a date with jungkook but heLLo where did that come from!!!!!!

“um, i-“

“oh, god. sorry! i’m sorry, that was totally- ah, jeez-“ jungkook groans quietly and reaches up to adjust his hat

“-jungkook-“

“-i’m sorry, you’re just really nice and pretty so i thought-“ he can feel his face burning hotter than the damn sun “-i just feeL like we get along really well even though we don’t really know each other buT we can always get to know each other on a date-“

“-yeah, you’re right about that-“

“-i don’t know what i’m thinking!!! i haven’t gone out on a date in a long time so maybe it’s not a-“

“-jungkook!” you slap a hand over his mouth and he stumbles backwards a little from the impact

“…myeah?” his voice is muffled and you give him a warning look so he shuts up quickly

you pull your hand away before adjusting your cardigan a little “i would… i would love to grab dinner with you sometime.”

“oh!” jungkook’s voice is slightly pitchy and he clears his throat quickly “cool. sick.” he says with a lower voice before sniffing and looking back over at the boys

it’s totally whatever

he’s cool

it’s casual

dinner is casual

he’s like… suuuuper chill about it, bro

“mm. sick, indeed.” you tease lightly before nudging his side “…you still wanna split the banana milk with me or not? because i’m going to inhale this entire thing if you don’t want any.”

(the entire time you and jungkook are taking turns taking sips of the banana milk he can’t help but feel like he’s indirectly kissing u)

((but whatever))

(((he’s like…. suuuuuuper chill about it, brO)))

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

drabble masterlist // main masterlist

[n0-eyedtaissa]

🤢 skate collective. All of them

kip lee:

boy you need someone to tell you NO! 

you’re somewhat of a leech at times, you’ll suck everyone dry until they're of no use to you. not cool man ://

stop keeping paint markers in your pockets they always explode in your pants pockets and tbh it’s not a good look. 

one of these days you’re gonna push things too far...

henry dorado:

literally just ask fran out. oh my god stop trying to be mysterious you’re failing. if you dont ask her out, she will. she’s loud, we know this.

bro you have such bad mommy and daddy issues i am So sorry that your parents ignore you 

ptsd!!!! it needs to be addressed homie or else you’ll probably Never set foot in a car ever again??

when are you actually going to inquire with any of the people trying to scout you? this is your opportunity.

trevor dorado (rip)

i’m so sorry, dude

should’ve worn your seatbelt tho

or gotten better friends 

kinda creepy that your parents keep so many pictures of you around tho

fran russo:

you hella need to work on your inside voice...like on god.

maybe invest in a real belt thats not a shoelace? all of your pants will thank you 

i know you dont think that you smell like weed but you do. very much so.

be patient with henry, hes shy and you’re Not.

when are you gonna break down and buy new hardware for your skateboard??? like girl..

maude collins:

you, my dear, are a big gay disaster.

“do you want me to teach you how to skate” is not flirting. it will not work always.

why do you only feel validated when you're around the boys? is it cause you feel threatened by not being the best “girl skater”?

“i bet i can kick flip off of this” yes but please DO NOT try to???

what do you carry in your big ass backpack and why is it everything BUT a first aid kit?

mambo tucker:

lol no one carries their board by the trucks, dont wanna look like a poser

stop getting discouraged by not being “good” yet. the point is that you’re there and that you're learning. 

honestly the skate park is Not the go-to place for a photo shoot if you claim you dont want people looking at you 

stop flirting with everybody its low-key Very misleading 

why do you lie to the rest of your friends when you’re with maude?

teal mcgrath:

what's it like to wake up everyday and choose violence?

stop fuckin throwing your skateboard when you get mad girl oh my god, one of these days you're gonna throw that thing through a window and get everyone in trouble. 

stop just squatting at your friends houses? you have a Medium Healthy relationship with your family that the rest of your friends would kill to have 

you're going a liiiiil heavy handed with the fake freckles these days but thats fine i guess 

yes your friends are jealous that you’ve had features on popular blogs/pages, but you dont need to talk about it any more than you already do lol 

lena dawkins:

do you actually like skating everywhere or are you too scared to try and get your drivers license at your age? 

are people your own age really “too uptight” or are you just refusing to grow up?

“when i was your age” what so like,,, two years ago? you’re 24 and not 30

for someone who likes being behind the camera you sure have some shaky hands