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rkived · 4 years ago

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year 22 (m) — jjk

‘‘I knew you’d be standing in my front porch light, and I knew you’d come back to me.’‘

Pairing: childhoodfriend!jk x f!reader

Genre/Tags: angst!!!, drama, a lil fluff, f2l, e2l-ish, pining, slow burn, smut

Rating: M +18

WC: 11.5k

Warnings: time jumps, underage drinking, jk being a douchebag for most of the fic, reader can’t catch a mf break, mention of character death ((no major one tho)). smut in the form of oral (f. receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex ((wrap it b4 u tap it y’all)), my being called pretty kink making a brief appearance soz

A/N: i listened to cardigan for the first time n had it on replay the whole time i wrote this so ig u should do it too ! this is my first time posting smut on here but who would i be if i didn’t throw in some good angst ? also tysm to @periminkle for being my unofficial beta reader n checking it up for me, she knows i’m constantly looking for her validation n i def wouldn’t post this if she didn’t love it ilu vira thx for being the best ever mwah !!!

You’re five, cowering behind his mother’s legs, sniffing as tears stream down your face. In front of you both stands Jungkook, there’s remorse written all over his face as his mother stares him down with hands on her hips and a look that just screams that this is only the beginning of his punishment.

‘’Apologize to Y/N right now Jungkook, or I’ll have your father have a word with you,’’ she threatens with a stern tone, making her son quickly shake his head no. ‘‘You need to learn how to share your toys.’’

You peek behind her lanky leg and find the slightly older kid looking at you with narrowed eyes, ‘‘I’m sorry, Y/N.’’ He apologizes with a bow, but he’s obviously displeased with the whole ordeal.

His mother sighs and Jungkook pouts at the look on her face. She urges you to come out from your not-so-secret hiding spot and to go back to playing with him, even though you seriously doubt that will do any good to what just happened.

Jungkook’s bedroom door is kept open as he sits back down on his city patterned carpet, you twiddle with your thumbs and stare at the Spiderman poster on his wall. There’s an awkward silence between you two until you feel a toy bump your crisscrossed legs.

It’s the shiny red car he had refused to lend you before, provoking an argument between you two which eventually made you run out of his room in tears as you ratted him out to his mom.

‘‘Wooow,’’ you whisper in awe, taking the car in your hands with so much care, treating it like it’s one of your newest dolls.

Jungkook huffs, crossing his arms as he looks at you with distaste and he’s forced to settle with other boring toys as you giggle to yourself, making the car follow the carpet’s tracks. He learns then to never trust his mother again. If she ever says she’ll bring a new friend for him to play with again, he’ll refuse wholeheartedly.

He doesn’t like sharing his toys, and it’ll probably take him a long time to learn how to.

You’re nine as you hand Jungkook one of the multiple Valentine’s Day cards you carefully crafted the night before with your mother, adding all kinds of pretty stickers and shiny glitter to make each one of them unique. His is different from the rest, though.

You added hearts to the dots in the I’s, there’s a hint of your favorite body splash enveloping the pink construction paper and it fills Jungkook’s nostrils with so much force that he feels he could gag at the smell.

‘‘What do you think?’’ You ask the fourth-grader with a big smile on your face, cheeks tinted with a light shade of red as you see him reading the little message you wrote inside the card.

Jungkook lets out a mocking chuckle, ‘‘Are you serious? You like me?’’ He asks you, but it doesn’t look like he’s looking for answers. Your smile slowly fades away, looking at him with glossy eyes, ‘‘I don’t like you, you’re just a dumb little girl.’’

His card was the one you had invested the most time in and yet it only took him a second to crumple it with his hand, and another five for him to toss it into the trash can near you before he goes back to his group of friends in the school’s playground.

You learn how to hold your tears in then, thinking it’s a great accomplishment and that maybe now he’ll stop calling you a crybaby.

His friends receive him with high-fives and he smiles with gratefulness because they just saw how much of a badass he can be. Once recess is over and everyone’s going back to their classrooms, Jungkook nears the garbage bin where he had thrown the Valentine's card in, but finds it’s now dirty with yogurt someone tossed inside.

He grimaces at the sight and sighs, there’s no way he can save it now.

You’re twelve and you’re the only girl in the treehouse who hasn’t gone through puberty yet. It wasn’t something that bothered you until just recently, when it became pretty evident why none of the boys would even give you a onceover compared to the other girls.

“I don’t know if I want to play,” you mumble after Kim Jihyo suggests playing spin the bottle. You’re the only one who opposes the idea, though you could count Jungkook in given as he just sat there without saying a word.

Park Yerim rolls her eyes, “You’re so boring, Y/N!” The comment makes the rest giggle as you pout at being the designated party pooper.

It’s all fun and games of truth and dares to whoever the bottle lands on and you’ve been lucky enough to avoid the tip of the plastic Coca-Cola bottle to point at you, until it lands on Jungkook who has done a few funny dares so far.

“Alright, Jungkook, let’s make things even more fun!” Jihyo announces since she’s been the one who has assigned most of the embarrassing challenges and questions, “I dare you to kiss one of the girls here for ten seconds.”

The dare makes the boys cheer with excitement and the girls gasp with anticipation, hoping one of them is the lucky chosen one. Your lips part slightly as you stare at him sitting across from you, he’s clearly not comfortable with the dare, but knowing him, he won’t express his current discomfort.

His eyes land on you as you stare back at him with concern, hoping that he’ll speak up to avoid himself the embarrassment. Has he even kissed someone before? If this is his first kiss, you’ll witness it alongside everyone else and you can only imagine how terrifying that must be. Even though Jungkook’s always been a brave kid, you can always tell when he feels under pressure.

“Uhm, I’ll uh—“ Jungkook keeps staring at you and you feel your heart start to beat like you just ran the usual ten laps around the gym in P.E class. Are you about to have your first kiss? With him?

You nod your head absentmindedly, a sign to let him know it’s okay for him to pick you from all the other developed girls who probably have more experience kissing than you do, but it’s okay because you’ve always been a quick learner.

“Yeji,” Jungkook says after what feels like forever, though it’s only been a mere few seconds, “I’ll kiss Yeji.” He adds, removing his eyes from yours and settling them on the girl with the high ponytail and pink colored nails.

You bite your bottom lip hard, breaking the dry skin as you feel yourself taste blood. It doesn’t matter because no one’s paying attention to you and instead they’re focused on Jungkook’s neverending kiss with Yeji.

When you get home that night, you look at yourself in the mirror and frown at your lack of everything. Is this the reason as to why he hadn’t picked you?

You’re fourteen and Kim Taehyung just sent you a message through MSN in which he confesses to have feelings for you. Your eyes widen, rereading the message several times, rubbing at your eyes just to make sure you’re seeing things correctly.

You run off across the street to Jungkook’s house, ringing the doorbell quickly for someone to open up. You’re greeted by him looking at you with an annoyed expression, he had to pause his GTA game to come and open the door.

“What do you want?” Jungkook asks harshly, crossing his arms as he stares into somewhere that’s not your face. He’s anxiously waiting for you to spit out whatever it is you’re there to say.

You calm yourself down by breathing in deep and out, blowing the air right at him, “Does Taehyung like me?” You ask him, making Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise and his brows to raise.

His reaction tells you that you might’ve just discovered a secret you weren’t supposed to and it only makes your heart beat even faster because if it’s true, then this is a pleasant surprise. Kim Taehyung is one of the hottest boys in the tenth grade and he happens to be one of Jungkook’s closest friends. You think he must know something since you see them hanging out at lunch.

“Uh—I don’t know, Y/N.” Jungkook mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck, finally looking at you and he feels a gut wrenching punch in his stomach at the sight. “Taehyung isn’t a really good guy, you shouldn’t—“

“What are you saying?” You interrupt him with a question, confused as to why Jungkook was painting a negative picture of his friend. “He was really sweet with what he said, he thinks my eyes are pretty when they sparkle — I didn’t even know they did that!”

Jungkook grimaces and sighs, there’s really not much he can do here. You’ve always been so stubborn, so relentless. No matter how many times life tries to tell you something’s not meant for you, you challenge each and every one of it’s obstacles until you take what’s yours.

“Okay, then what are you gonna do? Date him? You haven’t even had your first kiss yet.” Jungkook reminds you with a mocking tone and you furrow your brows together because, how does he know that?

You stammer, “I-I have! I had it at camp last summer, actually!” That’s a lie, but he wasn’t there so he can’t prove the veracity of your statement. “And what do you care? So what if I want to date him?” You add with anger, not understanding why couldn’t he just support you in search of true love.

The thought of dating Kim Taehyung had never crossed your mind, thinking he was way too out of your league for him to ever notice you. But that confession sitting in your MSN chat now served as a nice feeling of knowing you aren’t as invisible as you think you are.

Jungkook scoffs, “Taehyung would never date you, okay? He’s older than you, he’s cool, he goes to parties and has kissed almost every girl in his grade, do you think he’d really like someone as boring as you?” He doesn’t mean to be so harsh, but you’re just so difficult and impossible to get through.

Jungkook’s used to the trembling bottom lip and the teary eyes that you give him everytime he says something that definitely strikes a nerve within you, but he’s always impressed on how you always refrain from crying in front of him. Last time you did that you were both kids and he probably took the last lollipop from your batch of collected halloween candy.

“Screw you, Jungkook,” you say through gritted teeth, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead already.

He looks at you quickly stomp your way back to your house, only heading back inside once you slam your front door shut. Jungkook enters his room to find two new messages in his MSN.

$$ kIm tAaEhyYyuNG $$: it worked!

$$ kIm tAeEhyYyunGG $$: she fell for it xDxD where did u even come up with the sparkly eyes thing?? that’s gold bro rofl

Jungkook sighs, ignoring the messages and shutting his computer down.

You’re sixteen and you’ve been invited to your first party. Granted, it was Jungkook’s, but he knew that if he didn’t ask you to come you’d probably tell on him with his mom. No matter what age he was, he’d always fear his mother’s scolding.

“Drink this!” Park Jimin says with his beautiful smile and you’re starting to realize why they gave him that very same superlative on the school’s yearbook. You take the red solo cup without any second thought, placing the rim straight to your lips and choke once you feel the liquid burn your throat.

“Ugh—What’s this?” You ask, cleaning the droplets of liquid around the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles, “Fruit punch!” The liquid is indeed red like the familiar drink you’re used to, but there’s definitely something else mixed inside. “Oh, and vodka,” he adds with wiggly eyebrows as he shows off the small flask he was hiding in his sweatshirt’s front pocket.

You gasp and hand him the cup back, “No, I don’t drink alcohol, sorry.” Jimin rolls his eyes and it reminds you of the many times you’ve received this same reaction from your classmates before. Always a party pooper. He’s about to take the plastic red cup from you until you quickly drink the spiked punch in one go.

The boy howls in excitement, “Woo, go Y/N! Another one coming right up.”

Jungkook knows he should be making sure everything’s alright downstairs. If his mother notices there’s at least one misplaced object, she’ll know right away something went down in her house while her husband and her were away for the weekend on an emergency trip to their hometown. Leaving him unsupervised only because they both believed their son was old enough to tend for himself.

But Jung Eunha had dragged him into his room with the excuse of wanting to see what it looked like, but the mini tour had turned into them kissing on his bed and Jungkook is thankful he changed his Spiderman sheets in exchange for some boring plain grey ones. Eunha smells like fresh mint and Jungkook is way into his head to focus on properly kissing her.

It’s not until his bedroom door is abruptly open, slamming against the wall that Jungkook literally jumps to his feet, making Eunha gasp as they both look at the person who has interrupted their awkward makeout session.

“Guk-ah, what are you doin’?” You curiously wonder, a hiccup following right after which makes you giggle. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with quickness as he notices you look different from the last time he saw you twenty minutes ago when you were talking to Jimin. “Guk-ah, were you—you kissin’ Eunha?” You ask once more after not receiving an answer to your previous question.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks in concern, coming closer to analyze your weird state. You stretch your arm out to avoid him from nearing you, making him falter in his place as he studies your expression.

You hum, “Guk-ah, you busy. Sorry,” you apologize in a shy tone, ready to head back down and have more of that fruity alcohol punch you now found tasty, but you stumble and only avoid yourself from falling by holding onto Jungkook's door frame, he’s already reaching out by then.

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N? Get out!” Eunha complains with irritation, getting up from the bed and ready to kick you out of his room, but his free arm stops her from getting near you. “Whu—?”

“Eunha, go back down. I’ll deal with her myself.” Jungkook says as calmly as he can, thinking three’s a crowd and dealing with you wasn’t an easy thing in of itself. She’s about to argue, but he interrupts her again, “Go down, now.”

She rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder against yours harshly once she steps out of his room, “Whatever, that kiss was shitty anyway.”

He pretends he didn’t hear that and takes you in his arms instead, dragging you to lay on his bed as you cuddle into his favorite pillow and hug it close to your body. How much did you drink? Why did you even do it in the first place? Jungkook knows you’ve never tried alcohol before, which means he’ll be in big trouble if you show up back to your house like this.

When you open your eyes hours later, your head hurts and it feels lightweight when you move it side to side. The room you’re in is familiar, that spiderman poster is still hung on the wall, but there are no more toys laying around the floor; they’ve probably been stored somewhere in his garage or sent off to a donation center under his mother’s demand.

The pillow that you’re hugging smells just like him and any other day you’d hold on to it tighter and inhale his scent like your life depended on it, but you abruptly sit on the bed as you’re reminded of how you got here. The action is not appreciated by your dizzy head, but you look around the room to notice how dark it is and there’s no more music playing downstairs.

You quickly jump to the ground, only to hear a “Fuck, ouch!” from below, stepping on Jungkook’s leg unintentionally. It makes you gasp, looking down to notice the older friend laying on the cold floor, having gotten rid of that childhood carpet of his. His head’s laying on a makeshift pillow made out of a towel and he’s trying hard not to shiver.

“I’m sorry, sorry, sorry!” You quickly apologize, stepping away from his figure as he soothes the shin of his leg you stepped on. “Jungkook, what happened?”

He sighs, “Someone decided to drink like five cups of spiked punch knowing damn well it was their first time drinking alcohol, stepped into my room like a crazy person, and then crashed on my bed like they—What’s with the face?”

“Bathroom.”

Jungkook grimaces while he holds your hair back, you’re throwing away all the liquid you had taken with a few additional snacks you had munched on earlier, “Are you done?” He asks in a tired mumble and you shake your head no.

He feels guilty that you’re in this position. He didn’t even want to kiss Eunha, but she was one of the most popular girls in his grade and he knew that if he turned her down she would most likely put a bad word in with the rest of the girls and the guys would make fun of him for being such a wuss.

That would’ve been better, because after laying you down on his bed he had to go down and tell everyone that the party was over, putting an excuse that the neighbors had warned him and threatened to call the cops. They all cleared pretty quickly, but he knew he was going to be the butt of the jokes come Monday. He even had to call your parents to let them know you had gone home to a friend’s house for a sleepover, which he knew wasn’t totally believable, but it had somehow gotten them convinced that their daughter was alright because they trusted Jungkook to never hurt you ever.

Once you feel like you’ve puked your stomach out, Jungkook hands you a pill accompanied with a glass of water and hands you clothes of his that might be more comfortable to sleep in.

“Good night, Jungkook,” you whisper once you’re laying back on his bed, still hugging the pillow he preferred to sleep with. He makes a sacrifice to make it up to you.

His back is going to hurt by the time the sun comes out in a few hours, but it’s okay if it means you’ll sleep comfortably after the events of tonight. “Good night, Y/N.”

He’s unable to sleep, but finds entertainment in your hanging hand beside his bed. The skin on your palm looks soft and there’s this strange urge inside of him that makes him want to grab your hand in his, but he refrains.

To calm the current chaos in his head, Jungkook finds peace in the light snores coming from his bed.

You’re just about to turn eighteen and your date to the prom is Jeong Jaehyun, who had only asked you out a day before the event because the girl he had initially wanted to take had been asked and he didn’t have a plan B.

Jaehyun is okay, at least he managed to get you a corsage that matched the color of your dress. He even smiles in the pictures your parents take of you both as you awkwardly try to look comfortable with his arms around you even though by then you had only exchanged a few sentences.

The prom’s theme is Summer Nights and you think it’s fitting considering this is the very last event before the graduation ceremony, meaning that you’d most likely never see most of these people ever again. You had purposely applied to a college that was outside of your hometown for that same reason. You’re ready to live the life you’ve always wanted to live, without anyone judging or knowing you.

Your date spends most of the night talking with his group of friends as you’re left alone on your table, looking at your well manicured nails. You knew you weren’t going to get the same prom experience the high school kids on T.V enjoyed, but you at least hoped it would’ve been a little more fun than this.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn around to see Jungkook trying to loosen the tight tie around his neck. He looks incredibly handsome and you suppose his mother helped him pick the suit out, Jungkook rarely ever wore fitted clothing, so this is one of those once in a lifetime moments..

“Hey you,” you say and he gives you half a smile, wondering why you’re sitting by yourself at an empty table when everyone else was either mingling or dancing. “Where’s your date?” You ask with curiosity, you’re surprised that Jinsoul isn’t trailing alongside him given how she had behaved for the past week ever since he asked her to come with him.

“Retouching her face or something,” he answers casually, “what are you doing sitting here? Where’s Jaehyun?” Jungkook asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “Don’t know, probably talking with the guys of the basketball team. He’s been gone for a while.” Not like you care, anyway. If your conversation with him inside his car on the way to the venue had been any indication of what it would’ve been like for the rest of the night, you’re glad he's not here trying to make any more small talk with you.

Jungkook huffs, thinking he’ll kick his ass if he sees him. He had asked him to invite you so you wouldn’t come alone, and yet here you are, sitting all by yourself while the douchebag’s making a social life somewhere in the crowd. He calms down once he notices how unbothered you are by it, though. You’re a big girl now, you’ve been through too much to be affected by something as simple as this.

“Is there something you wan—“

“Dance!” You interrupt with excitement and Jungkook chuckles.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted something to drink, but—alright, let’s dance.” Jungkook can’t dance for shit, but you took lessons when you were younger and he can still remember how you’d always show him the routines you learned in class. He’d always boo you, but in reality you were pretty good. He wonders why you stopped, he doesn’t recall you ever telling him.

It’s just his luck that once you both step into the dancefloor, the hired DJ stops the up-tempo song playing before and switches to a much slower romantic one, “Alright everyone, I want all the couples on the dancefloor for this one.”

You step away from him with nervousness, it’s couples only after all. But Jungkook holds onto your lower back firmly, pulling you closer into his space. Your eyebrows raise as your lips part, “Uh, s-should we, uh—?”

“It’s just a song, Y/N. You wanted to dance, then we’ll dance.” He tells you with such confidence it makes you feel like this is totally normal and something all friends do. All the known High School couples are dancing together, heads tenderly placed over chests and chins resting lovingly above them. You wait for Jungkook to take the lead because you have no clue of what you should be doing, you might’ve taken dance lessons years ago but you’ve never slowed danced in your life.

Jungkook places his hand on your hip, the touch makes goosebumps crawl in your arms. He pretends he doesn’t notice it as he takes your right hand in his. You stare at the way he delicately holds it like it’s his mother’s fine china. “Place your other hand on my shoulder,” he instructs and you do as asked, your palm coming to rest on the strong muscle.

He’s only slowed danced once before at a family member’s wedding where his mother taught him how to, with her as the teacher. Back then he thought it was incredibly ridiculous, but now he’s sort of glad that happened because he’s the teacher now and you’re now looking at him with your big eyes as you sway alongside him.

You clear your throat, “This isn’t that hard.” Jungkook nods as he stares down at you, noticing how uneasy you are given that you’re looking at everything and not entirely immersed in the moment.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says out of nowhere, making you look at him like a deer stuck in headlights, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He had never called you that before.

An awkward laugh escapes your lips, looking away from his intense gaze as you try not to take his words too literally, “Ha ha, that was a good one.” To you there’s no other explanation than this being one of his mean pranks on you.

But Jungkook doesn’t falter both his words and gaze, “I’m not laughing.” There’s seriousness in his voice and you have to look back at him again just to make sure he really isn’t, “You look beautiful, just take the compliment.” You nod and there’s silence between you two after that. You’re digesting the romantic lyrics that the singer is talking about and hope that the song ends soon, because you’ve never been this close to him and it’s starting to feel too crowded.

You clear your throat, “So…”

“So…,” he repeats.

“What are you doing for summer?” You ask him in an attempt to break the tension and wanting to take advantage of the little intimate moment since Jungkook rarely ever lets you pry into his private life.

“I think I’ll train before heading off,” he answers. It was more than obvious he was going to earn that sports scholarship he had been aiming for, he was one of the best athletes on the school; though you considered him to be the number one between them all. “I’m kinda scared, not gonna lie.”

You look at him with surprise, tilting your head to the side, “You’re scared?” You ask in disbelief because as long as you’ve known him, he’s never been scared of anything. This is the same kid who instilled your fear of monsters in a closet after watching Monster’s Inc. together, also the same kid who helped you get over it after he realized you had actually taken it seriously.

He chuckles lightly, “Yeah, I’m just scared about starting over.” It’s interesting how his biggest fear is the one you’re looking forward to the most, but you suppose it’s fitting for someone who has never had to worry about what people think of him. In this town, Jungkook has swam freely without any concerns. Out there, he’s just another fish in the big and scary ocean. “Aren’t you?” He questions, hoping that you’re able to relate to what he’s feeling.

“Honestly, I—“

You’re interrupted by Jaehyun clearing his voice in front of you two, making you both turn your heads towards his direction. You quickly separate from Jungkook and he feels his body lose the warmness you were providing.

“If you wanted to dance, you could’ve just asked. I’m your date after all.” He says smugly and you chuckle awkwardly, nodding because he’s right.

Jungkook wants to punch his stupid face, how dare he interrupt you both when he had been ignoring you the whole night? Why does he suddenly want to dance with you when he’s probably still upset at him for asking Jinsoul to the prom before he could?

“Your date’s looking for you, buddy. She doesn’t look too happy.” Jaehyun adds with a smirk as he takes your hand in his and drags you away from Jungkook towards another place on the dancefloor.

He’s left to stare at the way he holds your hand, and he only hopes he’s doing it ever so carefully.

You’re twenty when Jungkook sees you for the first time since you both left for college two and half a years ago. He’s rendered speechless when he spots you in the crowd, there’s a manly hand around your waist as you giggle into the stranger’s mouth before placing a kiss to his lips.

There’s only so much social media can provide him, pictures and stories aren’t enough for Jungkook to keep up with you. He thinks you’ve changed, not only appearance wise but you seem way more outgoing, carefree, and happy. Did he miss the boyfriend announcement picture? He’s sure he didn’t, he checks your profile almost every day and he’s never even seen him in any of your stories.

A gasp escapes your lips once you spot him, completely forgetting about the possibility of bumping into him given that both your schools were playing against each other that night. You tell Namjoon you’ll be right back and he nods, going back to a conversation with the group of college friends you had made.

You surprise him by jumping into him, arms around his shoulders as you hug him from behind. You let out a shrill of excitement and he blushes as his friends chuckle at the unexpected approach from this unfamiliar girl.

‘‘Jungkook! You didn’t tell me you’d be here,’’ you say once he turns around to face you and he’s able to see you better upfront. You look beautiful and he thinks the Instagram pictures are not doing you enough justice. You’re glowing, and it has nothing to do with the highlighter you applied on your face and collarbone area.

The both of you aren’t able to properly talk until you suggest moving to a different area, Jungkook apologizing to his friends as he explained he needed to catch up with an old friend. They don’t complain and instead shoot him teasing looks and small pervy comments that go by unnoticed to you.

Jungkook listens with intent to your ramble about what you’ve been up to. From your courses, to your roommates, the parties you’ve attended, and even the fact that you handle your alcohol better now. He’s happy that you seem so too, but it irks him that you hadn’t been capable of telling him that you had a boyfriend now. Is there a reason as to why you omitted that important piece of information?

‘‘And what about you? How’s college?’’ You ask with curiosity.

He blinks a few times, realizing you had stopped talking about yourself and was now wondering about him instead. ‘‘It’s fine,’’ he answers with a tight lipped smile, the lack of detail compared to you was astonishing, but even though you were still hungry for more you decided not to pry any further.

There’s fear in revealing that he’s been having a hard time catching up with the rest of his peers. College was indeed fine, but it could be better. He’s settled with the idea that this is as good at it’ll get, some things just aren’t like you expect them to be. At least you’re happy, and that fact brings him comfort.

‘‘Was that your, uhm─boyfriend?’’ He finally asks after a while, both about to head back to your respective group of friends.

The question takes you by surprise, looking at him with raised eyebrows and mouth agape. ‘‘Who? Namjoon?’’ He nods, though he doesn’t know anything about the guy he had first seen you with. You let out a wholehearted laugh, ‘‘Hell no, too many commitment issues with that one,’’ you answer and Jungkook’s forehead creases with confusion.

Why were you kissing him then?

‘‘We’re friends with benefits,’’ you inform him as if you had read his mind. ‘‘He’s a nice guy, though. Also, super smart, he’s helped me with a few of my─’’

‘‘You’re not a virgin anymore?’’ He abruptly asks, disbelief in his tone as he internally screams to himself for thinking out loud. Jungkook expects you to berate him about such an imprudent question, but is surprised when he sees you giggling.

‘‘Duh, silly. I think I lost it freshman year?’’ The carelessness in your voice makes him look at you like you’ve gone crazy. Why are you so lax about this? Why are you telling him about losing your virginity without a care in the world? ‘‘Anyway, are you going to be home for the─’’

Jungkook interrupts you once again, ‘‘Was it with your boyfriend at the time?’’ He asks in genuine curiosity and you sigh, rolling your eyes slightly at him.

‘‘No, it was some random dude at this party I went to. Could you please─’’

‘‘Y/N, are you insane? Why would you give up your virginity to some fucking stranger like it’s nothing?’’ Jungkook’s voice raises as he scolds you about being so negligent about yourself, ‘‘You can’t do shit like that!’’ He fumed, making you let out a breathless chuckle.

‘‘Could you stop treating me like a fucking child for once in your life? I’m perfectly fine, Jungkook. I’ve been doing pretty well for myself without you here, actually. I don’t know why you think you have a say on what I do, is it the entitlement you have of me that you still carry around because we grew up together? Because if that’s it then you can drop it, I let go of my little girl who wanted a friend and was treated like pure shit in return complex a long time ago.’’

He knows you’re right, but he thinks he’ll always have this odd sense of protection over the five year old girl who cried to his mom about not lending her his favorite toy. He’ll always want to apologize to the eight year old girl who declared her love for him with a Valentine’s Day card while he ended up breaking her heart in exchange. He’ll always wish to look for help within the twelve year old girl who witnessed him give out his first kiss to another girl who he didn’t even like. He’ll always feel guilty towards the sixteen year old girl who had gotten tipsy on a spiked fruit punch and crashed on his bed. He’ll always hate himself for not asking the seventeen going on eighteen year old girl to prom when he knew he could’ve, but chose not to in fear of ruining your friendship.

You only wanted someone to be there for you growing up and Jungkook had never been the brave boy you thought he was, always running from his fears in hopes he’d have a wide advantage margin from them. Yet here they are, standing right in front of him in the form of a twenty year old you, and they’re there to let him know that you’ve never needed him, yet he’s always needed you.

He can’t even apologize, he only looks at you with wide eyes as he fidgets in his place. Either you’re both too old now to understand each other or you just realized that you’ve outgrown Jungkook.

Your mouth set in a hard line as you crossed your arms, the night’s breeze feeling colder than usual. ‘‘I miss you Jungkook, but I can’t keep playing this cat and mouse game with you any longer.’’

You leave him behind to go back to Namjoon’s arms, seeking refuge in his sweet embrace as you try your hardest to put on practice what you learned all those years ago when Jungkook broke your heart for the first time, you should be used to it by now.

You’re twenty-one when you’re back in your hometown to attend the funeral of the old lady down the street, the one that always scolded you and Jungkook growing up.

You had been scared of her as a child, but always following along your friend’s footsteps when he proposed playing around her garden. It tugs at your heartstrings even if you hadn’t known the woman well. Her death was imminent seeing as she’d been ill for quite some time.

A taller figure stands next to you as you both stand way in the back of the ceremony. He looks tired and you figure that it’s because of the fact he arrived late into the night, you heard his car’s engine from your bedroom window. Dressing in all black, you notice he bought a new suit. You’re sure that the one he wore for prom no longer fits considering he’s bigger now.

You haven’t talked to each other since last year when you both left off on a sour note. The hurt you felt was no longer present, though. You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought of a way you could talk to him again without making things awkward, but you let out a small gasp once he placed his arm around your shoulders, giving it a small squeeze as he sighed and kept his focus on the service.

Watching the casket be lowered into the ground felt weird. She was a human being just like you, but her existence was a reminder of your childhood. Would it be okay to say that her death meant a part of you leaving with her too?

Once it hits you, it’s Jungkook who consoles you by hugging you tight. Your eyes are too blurry with tears for you to realize this is one of those rare moments where he’s holding you close without hesitation. He lets you ruin his tuxedo’s jacket with your mascara covered tears as he brushes your hair as a sign of comfort.

You know things are back in order when he proposes the idea to go back to the old lady’s porch, for old times sake. ‘‘Will we ever let her rest?’’ You ask him with a small laugh as Jungkook sits on the doorsteps of the old lady’s empty home, opening the bag of candy worms he bought at the grocery store.

He shrugs, ‘‘She loved us, always told my mom how much she missed us running around the street.’’ The revelation makes you smile, hoping it was true. He pats the empty space next to him, indicating for you to fill it up with your presence. Once you do, you feel the familiar warmth of his proximity.

Jungkook seems different and you only hope he’s changed for the best.

‘‘When are you going back?’’ You ask him with curiosity, hoping that he’ll be in town for a few more days so you can catch up with him on a better note this time around.

He munches on one of the snacks, ‘‘Tomorrow morning, I have training camp and can’t miss it.’’ His answer makes you sigh with disappointment, but you nod nonetheless. ‘‘What about you?’’ He asks in return, and you inform him that you’ll stay for a few more days to spend time with your family. There’s silence after that and Jungkook can only offer you the gummy worms in the bag, you take one with a small thanks.

‘‘College fucking sucks,’’ he says out of nowhere and it makes you look at him in bewilderement, ‘‘I hate it there, I wanna drop out so bad. But I’m a year away from graduating so it’s too late now.’’ You see his shoulders visibly relax, like a weight had been lifted off them. ‘‘Plus my mom would kill me if I do so,’’ he adds with a chuckle.

Last time you asked everything was fine. Had things changed or had they always been this way and he was just now being honest with you?

You rest your head on his shoulder and focus all of your undivided attention on him as he keeps rambling about what his life has been ever since he left this town. He’s had bad games, bad grades, and bad girls. But he’s also had incredible games, good grades, and a couple great hookups, and yet he still feels empty, it’s not enough.

‘‘I miss you,’’ he mumbles as he faces you, ‘‘I’m sorry for being such a shitty friend, you deserved better.’’ His apology is genuine and you can feel it in the way his voice trembles, sincerity has always scared him after all.

Jungkook’s never known when the time is right, and he misjudges the look on your face. When he leans down to press his lips against yours, he’s blinded for a mere moment into believing that you wanted to kiss him just as much as he had been waiting.

You abruptly separate from him with wide eyes and parted lips, ‘‘Jungkook, I’m─I’m dating Namjoon now.’’ He can physically feel his heart shatter, the revelation coming out like an old newspaper headline he should’ve read a long time ago.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, ‘‘He got over the commitment issues?’’ The rhetorical question is bitter.

You scoff, ‘‘And what about it? I preferred to wait than to rush into getting my heart broken.’’ Plus it’s not like you were expecting Namjoon to grow feelings for you, the whole no strings attached arrangement was named that way for a reason.

Jungkook looks at you with narrowed eyes and he shakes his head sightly. Old habits never die down, still so stubborn and challenging as ever.

He’s startled as you stand abruptly, fuming as you look at him, ‘‘I don’t even know why you care! Did you forget that you threw my Valentine’s Day card into the trash? Or that you kissed Yeji in front of my face? Or that you let Taehyung date me as prank between your friends? Or that you were making out with Eunha while Jimin kept giving me alcohol? Or that you asked Jaehyun to take me to the stupid prom even though I was perfectly fine going without him or anyone for that matter?’’

‘‘We were just kids!’’ Jungkook argues back at you.

‘‘It still fucking hurt,’’ you counter, ‘‘still hurts, actually. You think that by giving me a measly apology and kissing it better I’ll suddenly forget about all of it?’’ Jungkook knows it won’t ever make up for all those years, but he had at least hoped you’d be willing to give him a chance.

He wishes he could say something else. Explain that he had just tried to protect you in his own shitty way from everyone else or himself maybe, he doesn’t know anymore. He wants to speak up again, but there’s disappointment written all over your face, you’re not angry at him...just saddened.

‘‘Hope you have fun at your training camp.’’

Jungkook watches as you leave him sitting by himself on the old lady’s doorstep. A hand runs through his hair as he feels his eyes water, and he can almost hear a whisper in the wind that asks him why he didn’t stop you when he could’ve.

Jungkook didn’t think that his family coming together with yours for Christmas dinner would’ve been a great idea. You’re cold to him at first and it’s fitting for the winter weather, but as always it only takes for him to sit next to you for things to warm up again.

It’s with the excuse that you’ll run over to your house to grab a new bottle of wine from the kitchen counter that Jungkook trails behind you, both slightly tipsy on the different alcohols your families had offered each other.

Years have passed since he last stepped foot inside your home, you used to visit him more often than he did anyway. It still smells and looks the same; the only difference is that there’s new pictures of you hung up on the walls, updated accordingly to the changes you’ve made ever since you left off for college.

You’re sporting a big smile in all of them, which in exchange makes him copy the action as well. His lack of presence in your life has done you better than compared to when he was around, and if that’s the case, then at least he did something right.

There hasn’t been much said since the beginning of the night, just a simple hey out of courtesy. There’s so much he wants to say, but with no clue where to begin. Another apology is due, though he thinks it’s a little too late for that. He also wants to ask about what you’ve been up to since he last saw you, are you still dating the Namjoon guy you had told him about after he kissed you? If he’s still there, Jungkook rather keep quiet and not wonder out loud to you, he’s sure that it’ll hurt if it’s true.

Growing up Jungkook always mistook your bravery with stubbornness and your courage with relentlessness. You’ve always been challenging, but only because you wanted him to do so too. It’s moments like this that prove him that you’ve always been the stronger between the two.

‘‘So, we’re just gonna pretend like nothing’s wrong between us?’’ You ask, speaking directly to him for the first time that night. It makes him look at you like a deer stuck in headlights, surprised by the sudden question and out of all the years of knowing each other, he feels small under your gaze for once. ‘‘How much time is it going to pass until you want to finally talk things like adults?’’

Jungkook gulps the lump in his throat, his brain quickly thinking of the right thing to say, ‘‘I just wanted to protect you from─’’

‘‘From what? From you? Everytime you’ve done that I end up getting hurt in the end. I’m left to pick the pieces up by myself,’’ you interject with anger in your voice. ‘‘It fucking pisses me off that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you kissing me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you and─’’ A sigh, you close your eyes to center yourself again as Jungkook waits for the final blow, ‘‘and you look like none of this has ever bothered you in the slightest because, you don’t really care about me do you?’’

‘‘I do care about you.’’ He’s sure about it, even though he’s been extremely bad at showing it.

Even though your eyes are threatening to spill tears, you still muster up the last bit of what’s left of your courage to step closer to him until you’re a few inches away. ‘‘Prove it, then. Show me that you care.’’

His brain is sent into quick overdrive due to your close proximity. There’s a slight hesitation because he only hopes that what he’s about to do is what you’re demanding him to prove. He doesn’t care if you’re still dating the Namjoon guy because he’s settled with the idea that it’s okay if you don’t correspond, it’s not like he did the same to you when you were both younger.

Once his lips press against yours, there’s no turning back. He’s waiting for you to push him back and let him know that your heart’s still taken, but you kiss him with such fervor that he knows in that moment that you’re right, it’s better to wait than to rush right in.

It’s no fairytale kiss, though. There’s desperation in the way you chase his lips, as if you were to slow down he’d find a way to escape from you. You grip the cotton material of his crewneck into your small fists, holding on to the fabric like your life depended on it. The small kiss you had both shared last year was nothing compared to this, and Jungkook’s taken aback by your neediness.

He doesn’t know how you manage to drag him to your childhood bedroom without missing a beat, only separating once you both realize you need to catch your breaths, and even then Jungkook can’t have a minute to take just happened in because your lips attach to his neck to get more of a taste. His fingers curled around your arm, sighing at the way your kisses felt like electricity on his skin.

‘‘Y/N,’’ he calls your name out in a breathy tone, but you’re too immersed in your little bubble to even realize it.

Jungkook groans when you bite into the skin of his neck, then blowing over the red mark as you kissed it better. It’s going to be bruise and he doesn’t like when that happens, but he’s not bothered at all if it comes from you. He forcibly grabs your chin so you can face him, looking at him with big eyes, a small pout, and with your chin messed with drool.

It’s then that Jungkook kisses you hungrily, making you feel like you’re in a dream-like state, though you could partially blame the Christmas eggnog for that. The way he bites at your lips and how your tongues clash together is an extreme juxtaposition as to how you could describe this moment. It’s as if you’re floating on air, clouds surrounding you in a heavenly embrace, angels singing in the background every time his hands touch, grab, hold and caress every part of your body. And yet, even with such a difference, it’s perfect because it’s Jungkook. You’ve been waiting for this too long, which is why your hands creep beneath his crewneck, touching his tonified abdomen tentatively and enjoying the way goosebumps arise on his skin at the sensation of your fingers trailing patterns wherever they caress.

It’s only fair that he pays attention to yours as well. Jungkook’s lips trail from your mouth onto your jawline, planting wet kisses on each space until he begins sucking on the skin of your neck, making you moan in the process. He chooses then that his new favorite sound is the way you voice out the pleasure he gives you. ‘‘Hurry up,’’ you say, ridding the bottom of the crewneck higher over his stomach, making him shiver at the sudden change of temperature.

Jungkook chuckles before completely getting rid of the material, ‘‘Calm down,’’ he sighs as he gives you a sweet smile, ‘‘You know our moms could talk forever.’’

You ogle his chest, admiring the way his training camps have obviously done wonders to his body. ‘‘It’s not them I’m talking about,’’ you correct him with a teasing smile that only makes his grin grow wider, chuckling at your impatience. Jungkook lets out a small gasp of surprise when your hands grasp at his shoulder blades, turning him around so you can back him until the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed. It’s funny how he lets himself be bossed around by someone who’s way smaller compared to his frame.

Jungkook finds leverage on his elbows splayed against the mattress, your knees resting on each side of his hips as you leaned into him and kissing him just as widely as you had done before. Jungkook could fill just how quick things were escalating, especially the way his crotch area was beginning to become a problem he couldn’t possibly control at the moment, not with your own being directly on top of it. In any other situation he would’ve apologized with an awkward laugh, but his breath hitches once your hips start grinding over him.

His hands make their way on the inside of your knitted sweater, provoking goosebumps on the exposed skin. You let out a shaky laugh, halting your movements so you can quickly get rid of the fabric as Jungkook’s eyebrows lift in surprise at your haste and then at the sight of your bra covered breasts. His hands are still steadily placed on each side of your waist, only brought up because your own had redirected them over your breasts, hoping he gets the message on what you want him to do now.

Jungkook hesitantly squeezed one of the round globes, provoking a small moan to come from out of your lips. He wishes to hold you as close as he possibly can because the idea of ever being away from you again has been his main fear as of lately. But he refrains, you look so delicate and he feels like you could easily break. He stares at your body lovingly and your cheeks heat up at the way his eyes ogle your chest like a kid in a candy story. You give his arm a light slap and he chuckles, leaning over you to place a passionate kiss on your lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he says frankly. It doesn’t help to dissipate the flush on your face, but the compliment doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Jungkook leans in to trail kisses past your collarbones and into the swell of your breasts, making you bite your lip with anticipation. He looks at you asking for permission and you nod quickly with parted lips as you start to become impatient for him to make his next move. Jungkook lowers the cups of your breasts, freeing your hardened nipples and immediately envelopes one of them with his lips. “Mph—!” A sigh escapes your lips as you try to memorize the way his tongue traces over your tit. He pays attention to your other one, fingers rolling over the bud and pinching ever so often.

You can feel your panties damp by then, trespassing into the fabric of the black leggings you’re wearing over them. Reaching behind your back, you fumble in unclasping the hooks of the now uncomfortable bra. Jungkook’s forced to stop the undivided attention he had places on your breasts to look at you like he’s lost, why are you going so fast?

Once your hands delve with the buckle of his belt, he has to hold on to your wrists with a firm grasp, ‘‘What are you doing?’’ He asks with quick breath, you blink stoically towards him.

‘‘Uh─getting you naked?’’ You answer with a nonchalant tone, but his hands don’t let go and your demeanor changes, ‘‘D-Did you not want this?’’ Your voice turns smaller, embarrassed that maybe you had pressured him into something he didn’t want to participate in.

Jungkook quickly shakes his head no, ‘‘No, I-I do want this! It’s just─you’re going so fast,’’ he tries to explain, ‘‘I’ve been waiting for this for too long, I don’t wanna rush.’’ Your eyes lit up at the revelation as he waits for you to answer back, only for his back to hit the comforter with a small thud, giggling at the way you urgently kiss him again, but this time with much more care.

‘‘Why didn’t you say so before, stupid?’’ You mumble with a sheepish look, ‘‘I thought it was just going to be─nevermind, I need you right now.’’ You have to force yourself from spitting out any details that could possibly ruin the moment between you two, deciding to wait instead for any emotional confessions you want to make.

He switches positions between the two, panting as he brings you down to the mattress and Jungkook can feel the goosebumps on your skin, whether from the coldness of the room or because of the sheer electricity of his hands caressing your body like it was molded just right for him. He dips his hand lower, cupping your clothed heat on his hand. It makes you tremble and you whine, encouraging him to keep going.

“Baby, you’re really wet,” he comments with a teasing tone and you pout at him. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leggings and he pulls them down as he travels with them, greeted by the sight of the damp cloth of your panties. He exhales with content, caressing your thighs in an up and down motion. You twist underneath him and he has to hold your hips down to calm you down, “Patience is a virtue.”

“I’ve been too patient, do some—Ah!” Your whining is interrupted once Jungkook moves your underwear to the side holding it with his free hand, fingers coming to trace the slick covering your pussy lips. He becomes entranced with the transparent gooey liquid, bringing them close to his face as he separates his fingers and sees a strand connecting between them. “Guk-ah, p-please…” Your needy voice brings him back to reality, delving his fingers back into your exposed heat but this time with intent.

Jungkook’s thumb lifts the hood covering your clit, mouth coming down to give it a small tentative kiss. That action alone has you writhing above him, it makes him chuckle to himself as he dives back in. The moans you let out are loud and clear inside your bedroom, thankful that it’s only you and him inside your house. Your hand pulls at his hair, making him groan against you and the vibrations are felt throughout your body, only adding to the euphoric pleasure you already possess. His fingers trace the inside of your thighs until they reach your entrance, circling the fluttering hole which makes you pull at his hair harder and with your other you hold on to the bedsheets of the comforter tightly into your fist.

Jungkook’s tongue is still working your engorged bud, but he focuses his eyes on you as he dips the first finger inside you. “Oh—fuck,” you let out in a breathy moan. He tries to maintain a rhythm between his two ministrations, but it’s hard when he wants to focus on all of them at once. “‘Nother, please,” you begged once he let your clit rest, quickly following your request by adding another into your warm heat. He lets out a breathless chuckle as he notices how easy it is to thrust both fingers inside of you, your whole crotch area is covered in slick and his wet chin is a dead giveaway to where he was seconds ago.

He watches you unravel over him with such adoration, not even his wettest dreams or dirtiest fantasies could prepare him for this. Seven minutes in heaven he plans to stay in forever. “Guk-ah, I wan’ you. I-Inside, please.” You plead with teary eyes, and he slowly stops, removing his arousal covered fingers from inside you as he makes you sigh in the process. He kisses you again and again, your hazy brain is probably hallucinating all of this right now, but damn is it good. You tug at the crewneck he’s wearing, he’s too overdressed for this occasion. He tends to your demands, quickly getting rid of all the layers of clothing that stop him from being inside of you fully.

“I don’t have a—“

“I’m on the pill.”

You both speak at the same time, making each other chuckle. Jungkook gulps at the idea of taking you raw as the first time together, and you salivate at his hardened length; the head already oozing precum out and you want nothing more than to wrap your lips around it and lick the tip up. You’re just about to when Jungkook quickly grabs your wrist to stop you from reaching him, you look up at him with the big sparkly eyes he has loved for too long.

“I just—I wanna be inside you right now,” he sheepishly admits, and you smile with a nod; sharing the sentiment. You back up until your head rests on the pillows comfortably, relaxing into the mattress as you wait for Jungkook to ready himself. He places a kiss on your lips before placing a hand next to your head, using it as leverage above you. His free hand takes his cock and rubs the tip along your folds, making you squirm with anticipation. Jungkook chuckles, “Are you ready?” He asks with a sweet smile.

“I’ve always been,” you whisper, your hand tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear.

A caress to his cheek as he nods, slowly pushing the head of his dick into you. You bite into your lip hard, it’s been a while since you had sex with someone and Jungkook’s size and girth was different from the rest. Your walls are tight around him and he has a tough time trying to reach the hilt with you squeezing him so hard, “Baby, relax for me.” He pleads and you nod apologetically, breathing in deep as you feel him reach parts inside of you, you didn’t know existed. Once he’s all the way in, he waits for you to give him the go ahead while he presses kisses into your heated cheek. You wrap your legs around his waist and give him a nod, letting him know he was allowed to start thrusting.

Jungkook manages to hit all the right places, keeping a steady pace as he enters and exits you each time. You’re left to moan and writhe underneath him, letting him take you as he pleases. Your kisses become messy, teeth biting into each other’s lips, teeth grazing against each other as you both tried to fight for the dominant position. It’s that heavy makeout that incites you to push at his shoulders, making him turn in his back, exiting you in the process. Jungkook pants, chest rising and falling with quickness as you straddle his lap, arms connecting behind his neck.

“You always want to win, right?” He chuckles with half lidded eyes, enjoying the way your pussy lips grinded over his twitching length. You bat your eyelashes at him, offering him an innocent smile. The same technique that used to get you everything you wanted when you were younger. Same determination as you seek for what’s yours. He’s under you after all, still a victim to your charms.

Jungkook takes the bulbous head of his cock and teases it in your clit, if you weren’t holding on to him tight you would’ve collapsed into his chest. And by the way you moan his name out, he knows you’ll always look for him no matter the weather. “What a pretty girl,” he coos into your hair and you pinch his nipple in retaliation which only makes him groan in return. “My pretty girl.” He states before sinking himself deep into you again, sighing at the feeling of your hips circling over him. His rough hands guide them as you bounce up and down his length, moaning every time you rose and hissing when you came back down.

He makes sure to keep this image engraved on his head forever. Your breasts bouncing over his face, your thighs working extra hard to keep up with his thrusts, and the way your sounds bounced off the walls of your bedroom.

“You’re doing s-so good, baby.” Jungkook praises you, kneading your ass cheek. “Taking my cock s-so well,” he falls into a trance of admiring the way his length would appear and disappear inside of you, covered in a thick layer of your arousal. It makes him drill into you faster, sitting properly against the bed’s headboard as he takes your hips with force. He’s too turned on to keep treating you so delicately, and the way you moan and pant at the increase in speed only lets him know you enjoy him like this way more. “I-Is it good, baby? Am I-I fucking you well?” He asks in between rapid thrusts, your thighs had given out by then.

You nod and a whimper escapes your lips, “Y-yes, Guk-Ah. S-so good, feels amazing.” Your praise is honest, the fucked out tone in your voice is a clear indicator of how well of a job he was doing. A minute longer and you’ll be right on cloud nine, never wanting to come back down. “Wanna cum Guk-Ah, plea—“ There’s no need for you to even finish your sentence because his thumb rubs your clit in figure eights, making you groan with the intensified feeling of his hips circling inside you deliciously. You can almost see the blinding white light ahead as Jungkook kisses you feverishly. You feel tears escape the corners of your high, the familiar feeling tickling inside you as Jungkook’s thrusts don’t let up. ‘‘Ah! Yes, yes, fuck,’’ you cry out once your orgasm hits. Jungkook holds you close to his chest, trying to soothe your shaking body with his arms. Your walls squeeze and relax continuously around him, it serves him as the impulse he needs to chase his own high.

‘‘I love you, Jungkook,’’ you confess in between panting breaths, ‘‘so much.’’

His release shoots out and he groans, digging crescent moons into your hips. You hiss at the sensation, but giggle at how his eyes are screwed shut and brows still furrowed together, as if he was holding on to the last of his orgasm. In reality, Jungkook is just hoping that once he opens his eyes you’ll still be in his arms. Your fingers tilting his head to face you are very much real, he sees spots once he opens his eyes as they adjust to the room’s lighting.

‘‘I love you too.’’ He says with a fixed gaze and you coo at how perfect this is.

You’re twenty-two when Jungkook’s finally yours.

You’re both twenty-three and it’s another weekend spent at his apartment, he’s been playing for three hours now and you’ve given up on having him pay attention to you. Deciding to switch your plan around and join him instead, if only he would let you play.

‘‘Jungkook, you said it was going to be my turn five rounds ago!’’ You complain with a pout, crossing your arms across your chest.

His gaze is still stuck on the T.V screen, ‘‘Baby, shhh, you’re gonna make me lose.’’ He mumbles as he tries to remain concentrated on the game in hand, but he can hear your humph’s from behind him, ‘‘Patience is a─’’

‘‘Virtue, yeah, who cares.’’ You interrupt him with a roll of your eyes, familiar with the saying a little too well. ‘‘Hope you remember that for later tonight,’’ you add in a mumble, but he doesn’t hear it because of the loud sounds coming from the game on the screen.

‘‘What did you say, babe?’’ He asks with a raised brow, hitting the buttons of the controller with expert ease.

‘‘I’ll call your mom and tell her you don’t wanna share.’’ You joke with a threatening voice, but Jungkook knows better than to take your words so lightly. He pauses the game and turns to look at you with an are you serious? expression on his face, you giggle as you’ve finally got what you wanted.

He apologizes by covering your face with kisses, pleading for you not to tell on him with his mom. You promise not to do so this time, knowing that the woman was probably tired of having to scold his son at his big age.

Plus, ever since Jungkook surprised you with the almost exact replica of the Valentine’s Day card you gave him all those year back, you’ve taken advantage to tease him even more knowing he’s at your beck and call. You always remind him that he came close because the stickers he used were not like the ones you had, but he remembered to add the hearts on the I’s so that’s good enough.

‘‘Alright you can play, but━!’’ He says after he finishes his attack of kisses, ‘‘I’ll be your guide, I can’t risk you messing my record up, no offense baby.’’ None taken as you nod excitedly, you’ll always take whatever chance he gives you.

Jungkook’s finally learned how to share his toys after all.

#heartsforbts #bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #bts smut #f: year 22

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allzelemonz · 4 years ago

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Don’t Go: Crosshair X Gender Neutral Reader Part 1

In honor of the return of Star Wars! I’m a little late... but Crosshair is in need of love. I want nothing bad to happen to him and I will likely be sad in the coming weeks.

It all happened so suddenly. One minute you were working with the resident Jedi on Kamino, then a clone asked for you to follow him. Then you heard the blaster fire. When you tried to turn back the clone grabbed your arm and kept you there.

“It would be best if you stayed with me, Commander.”

You stared at the expressionless helmet in shock. From the tone of his voice to the words themselves, this clone was not acting right. Nevertheless, he had a blaster in his hands and you did not. He released his grip on your arm and you followed him away. Nothing seemed right.

He led you to the Prime Minister who was waiting in his usual weird egg chair. When the trooper was gone you gave the Kaminoan a curious look as he calmly poured a drink for you.

“I’m sorry if you witnessed any unpleasant things today, Commander.”

“Do you mind if I ask what’s going on, Prime Minister?”

You tried to keep you cool in the presence of the Kaminoan, knowing that manners and politeness was their favored character trait. You accepted the drink from him with a small thanks.

“All will be explained in due time, but I’m afraid I must inform you that your employment in training the clone troopers may be coming to an end.”

“What do you mean?”

“We have come under a sort of new management.” The Prime Minister took a small sip from his cup. “An announcement will be made later this evening, I just thought it would be best to let you know of the threat to your employment ahead of time.”

“Thank you for that, but I’m still a bit confused.”

“We will speak more tomorrow, after the announcements. Everything will make more sense then.”

You gave the Kaminoan a nod and promptly exited the room. You were met with hallways full of troopers going in every direction. You took a shaky breath at the sight of an occupied stretch being carried to the med bay, seemingly for analysis. You had a sinking feeling you knew exactly who was on it.

You made your way to your barracks, changing your mind halfway there, and instead turning down the hall leading to the barracks room of Clone Force 99. You waited there for an hour or so, trying to distract yourself with cleaning one of Crosshair’s old rifles.

The door slid open to reveal Tech and Wrecker first. Tech going immediately to his workstation.

“Ah! Good to be back.” Wrecker exclaimed as he put his helmet down.

“The smell’s getting worse.” Echo commented.

“You’re still new. You’ll get used to it.” Hunter assured.

“Speak for yourself.” Crosshair pushed passed his brothers, finally seeing you.

The other boys went about their usual coming home routine as Crosshair sat next to you and took his helmet off.

“How was the mission?” You asked, mostly to gauge if he’d be acting weird like all the clones you’d seen today.

“Mediocre.” He mumbled.

He leaned over to you and placed a quick kiss on your head. At least that hadn't changed. The rest of the Bad Batch seemed to be acting like themselves. There was something about Crosshair’s movements that seemed different. He hadn’t taken his helmet off until sitting with you. He didn’t say anything about you cleaning his rifle.

“Not every objective” Crosshair said.

You tuned into the conversation, having ignored it until now.

“Hunter let that Jedi kid escape.” He continued. “Or do you want to keep lying to us?��

You looked between Crosshair and Hunter. Let the Jedi escape? Were all of the Jedi being killed?

Hunter stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the waters below.

“I don’t like to think of executing our commanders as a mission objective.”

“An order is an order.” Crosshair argued.

He wasn’t wrong, but killing all of the Jedi was a questionable order at best. And the Padawans, children, there was no way to justify that order. When you were first brought on to aid the trooper training you couldn’t believe that pre-teens were holding a rank that you didn’t earn until you were twice that age. You couldn’t imagine killing them.

“Since when?” Hunter fired back.

Even from behind him, you could see Crosshair become annoyed. The end of his toothpick flicking around and his shoulders tensing up.

“None of this makes sense.” Echo chimed in. “Those clones served alongside General Billaba for years. How could they turn on her like that?” The former reg hit his fist against the table in frustration.

“Because of the reg’s programming.”

Everyone looked at Tech as if he was crazy.

“What programming?” Hunter asked.

You recalled being told that the clones were made to be more obedient than the average person, but you never thought of it as programming. Tech explained what he meant and Wrecker laughed.

“Ha! We sure don’t” The giant clone slung an arm around Crosshair, stuffed toy in hand.

You could see Crosshair’s annoyance at the action go beyond his default level of only moderate annoyance.

Tech explained why they didn’t adhere to the same standards as other clones, which you could have guessed. They’re different. Tech made it sound more complicated than that, but really the short answer was that they were simply built different.

Crosshair pushed Wrecker off him as Tech continued his explanation. Wrecker began to softly hit Crosshair with his stuffed toy in opposition. Crosshair got away from his large brother and replaced his toothpick in his mouth. You could still tell he was a bit off put by the current topic of conversation. The boys continued to discuss why they didn’t follow the order that had apparently been put out. You came to your own conclusion about the Jedi and troopers you’d been with earlier.

Crosshair leaned against the wall next to his bunk, you nudged him lightly and asked silently if he was feeling okay. He didn’t respond as he usually did.

An intercom message gave the order to report to the staging area, interrupting the conversation.

The Bad Batch walked to the staging area. You followed with them, Crosshair keeping pace with you in the back. It was his form of PDA like holding hands, just walking with you in step.

You split from the boys to take your position at the head of your group of clone cadets. All of them acting strange, not a single one out of place or trying to talk to one another. All of them stood at attention as if they were clankers. Even your subordinate sergeant didn’t give you any more comment than an acknowledgement of rank and a curt nod. He’d usually at least crack a smile or a wink if he was feeling confident.

You watched the announcement with a bad feeling about what was to come. You tried to catch sight of Crosshair or Hunter, anyone of the batch, but they were too far ahead and blocked by too many other clones. You couldn’t even see Wrecker towering above everyone else. The news that all Jedi were to be executed for treason explained a lot, but it didn’t change your mind about anything. The clones around you cheered at the announcement of a new Empire. The cadets behind you included. Men that just a few weeks ago had been talking about their disgust with the authoritarian Separatists. Maybe Tech had a point about the programming.

After the announcement you were caught up in the chaos that was clone cadets. Your fellow training commanders all worked to get the cadet back into their schedules and you couldn’t slip away no matter how much you wanted to. You escorted your troops back to their training area and got them back on track, leaving them to the bounty hunter trainers they were working with.

You made your way back to the batch’s barracks to find Crosshair looking over the old rifle you had been cleaning.

“Where is everyone?” You asked. It was a rare case the barracks were only occupied by one member of the batch.

“Out.” Crosshair stated plainly.

You took his meaning. Everyone was doing their own thing. You sat by the tall clone and watched him inspecting the weapon.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been accommodating recently.” Crosshair said, breaking the silence.

“Since when are you accommodating?”

The sniper chuckled and set the rifle to the side, turning to you. He took your hand in his and met your eyes.

“I try to be for you.”

He leaned in and kissed you. The usual crosshair kiss, short and to the point, but exactly what you needed.

“Have you been feeling okay?” You asked.

Crosshair raised an eyebrow at the question.

“You’ve been picking at Hunter a bit more than usual is all.”

“He made a bad call.”

You nodded, not wanting to provoke him. Maybe Crosshair wasn’t as immune as the others. He was acting off, but not nearly as badly as the regs.

“Do you want to go to the mess?” You rested you had on his cheek, tracing the point of his tattoo with your thumb slightly.

“Maybe later.” He answered, leaning into your touch.

He inched closer to you, pulling you close to him. He wrapped his arms around you in a rare hug. You relished in the action, pulling him closer as well. You ran your fingers against his short hair. Crosshair never hugged you for more than a few seconds, but you sat there for a while before the clone pulled away to kiss you again.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Cross?”

“Just missed you.” He spoke softly.

He hugged you close again. It made you wonder what was going through his head right now. The stoic man Crosshair usually appeared as was fading the longer he held onto you. Something wasn’t right.

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shurisneakers · 4 years ago

Text

shut in [3]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, ptsd, fighting over beds

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: every part i introduce more anonymous characters smh. i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Don’t make me shoot you, Wilson.”

“It doesn’t have to end this way, agent.”

“How’s it looking out there?”

“There’s been some talk. Apparently Serpentine isn’t very happy that their intel is dead. They’ve got people looking out for you everywhere.”

A frown adorned your face. Sam was leaning forward on his arms, head turned down as he listened to Ransone.

“How dangerous is it?”

“I would say that everyone’s a little wound up. Best not to go anywhere even a little populated.”

“Noted.” It would blow over in a while. The media coverage of Pierce’s assassination would die down with the changing news cycle soon.

“I can have someone pick you up wherever you are. Just tell me where.”

“Don’t bother. We won’t be here for too long,” you responded, Sam nodding in agreement. Once it quietened down you could leave, go back to Ransone without blowing your cover.

“Whatever makes you happy. Just let me know when you’re out.”

The click of the call ending took with it the only noise in the room.

Sam picked up the phone to remove the battery, discarding it to maintain your security. Burner phones were useful, but you didn’t want to take any chances.

“Wait,” you cut in, holding your hand out for it, “I need to make another call.”

The both of you were seated at the dining table. A piece of paper lay in front of you, playing the dangerous role of being the mediator.

You were trying to ration out your supplies and create a schedule as a way of finding middle ground. Things were more or less calm for the last two days, but the fight over the bedroom was wading into territory that could only be solved by a good old middle school fistfight.

Currently you were figuring out a meal plan so that you could establish some kind of routine. With bread as the only uniting factor, the other three components were going on a rotation. You had reached all the way till Saturday before running out of possible combinations.

“I’m just saying-”

“Don’t.”

“We’ve exhausted all edible options, it’s the only combination left-”

“I will not hesitate to fatally wound you.” You were only half kidding. The ridiculousness of the ideas he was proposing was entertaining, and you knew he wasn’t being serious. It was hard to catch a moment where he was.

“Fine. But in case we get to the point where peanut butter and jelly is the only thing that’s left, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

“I would rather die than shovel spoonfuls of plain jelly and peanut butter into my mouth.”

“Your survival game is weak,” he chided, tsk-tsking at you.

You only rolled your eyes at him, moving on to the next subject.

Bed.

“Easy, we just alternate days. You got the last two days, so I get the next two and then we just switch everyday.” Sam eased back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head leisurely.

“How long do you think we’ll be here?” you asked, writing down the plan he had just presented. The bed wasn’t queen sized with memory foam or any kind of privilege like that, but it definitely beat the couch with its odd lumps and depressions.

“A week tops. Anything more is just excessive.”

“Hello,” you said, voice low, even though you were well out of earshot of Sam. He was eying you from the living room window. If he was as good as he claimed he was, he’d know how to read lips and you couldn’t afford to have him do that.

“Code?”

You turned your back to the window, facing the large trees that loomed before you. “1993. It’s me.”

“Y/N?” He sounded suspicious, a little shocked, and you understood why he would be.

“Living and breathing.” You toed at a rock that lay ahead of you.

“Word on the street is that you’re dead,” he pointed out dryly.

“Not me; Pierce. I escaped. It was a trap.” When the rock you were playing around with escaped after a particularly hard kick, you started pacing up and down instead, “Ransone put a hit out on him because he thought he was leaking information.”

“How on earth did he come to that conclusion?”

“Don’t know. He was dead before we got there.”

“Who is ‘we’? You got someone there with you?” You didn’t realise it had slipped out during your conversation.

“Another one of our guys. Apparently I was a backup in case he didn’t show up, but he did, so now we’re stuck together.” You averted your gaze to Sam who was still observing you from the window brazenly, intently.

“Where are you?”

“We’re safe.”

“Alright.” He sounded like he understood, albeit not entirely convinced. “Stay low.”

“Will do.”

With that you hung up the call, dropped the phone to the ground and crushed it under your boot heel. When you were convinced that it was sufficiently useless, you turned on your heel, making your way back.

You walked back into the house, beelining to the kitchen to make up for your missed lunch, only to be greeted with Sam sitting on the couch looking at you inquisitively.

“Who was that?”

“Nobody,” you answered straightforwardly, opening the cabinet to get two slices of bread.

“If it has somethin’ to do with this situation we’re in then I need to know who you’re talking to.”

“Just drop it. It has nothing to do with you.” You found the jar of peanut butter he had already opened, using a butter knife to spread it along the bread.

“Somehow I’m finding that hard to believe.”

“Believe what you must. I’m going to take a nap,” you answered evasively, chewing absentmindedly on the sandwich you had just made. You didn’t bother to look at him as you headed towards the bedroom.

“Hey now, hold on a minute. Who said you had bedroom privileges? You’ve been using it for two days.” You stopped in your tracks, face scrunching in annoyance. “If you’re keeping vital information about my life from me, then I think I deserve to not have a fuckin’ backache when I wake up in the morning.”

You quickly weighed the pros and cons in your head, imagining how the next few minutes would pan out if you just said ‘no’ and left. But in every imaginary argument you proposed, the bottom line ended with him prodding at you until he either got the information that he wanted or the bed.

Frankly, the bed was something you were willing to sacrifice to get him to stop meddling in your business. It seemed like the only reasonable way to get him off your ass.

“Fine.” You spun around to face him. “We’re making an arrangement.”

“Whoever has the bed has to forfeit TV privileges for that day.”

“Sounds reasonable. None of those three movies can be played more than twice in a row.”

That was more to preserve your sanity than anything. You had already seen each of them once, bordering on thrice for Die Hard. Sam’s fault, not yours.

“We should have a codeword. In case there's danger or something. Or maybe if you just want to be left alone,” Sam suggested, finger pointing to the blank space left at the end of the paper. “But it’ll be like solitary confinement since it’s so fuckin’ quiet here.”

Almost on instinct your mind flashed to images of dark cells. Quiet sobs. Blood stains on the wall, originating from clawing at it. Sunlight through one small window at the top. Utter loneliness except for yourself.

You could remember the soreness in your legs from curling up into a ball for hours, rocking back and forth. The smell of drain water collecting in the basement where the cell was.

Isolation.

“You got any suggestions?”

“Huh?” You forced yourself back to the present. Your knuckles had a dull ache in them from holding the pencil too hard.

“Do you have any ideas for a codeword?” Sam repeated, looking at you intently.

“No, nothing off the top of my head.” You shook your head, trying to regain focus. You loosened your grip on the pencil, letting it fall to the table.

“We’ll just leave it at ‘Brooklyn’ for the time being.”

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed to whatever he was saying. It was just a precaution in case something major happened. It was rather unlikely that you were going to use it anyway.

Codewords weren’t uncommon in your business, but it was mostly used for missions or other professional standings. Regardless of being less adventurous than what you tended to work on, this was work at the end of the day.

“Is that all?”

“Yeah, I think we’re done.” His chair scraped loudly against the ground as he got up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going out for a while. Need to shake off the possible osteoporosis.”

You didn’t bother asking where he was going, ears following his footsteps as he walked down the hall to the bedroom, probably to get his jacket that he hung up in the drawer.

You left the paper on top of the mini fridge, alongside the car keys and a few dollars you had nabbed in the hurry from Pierce’s house.

Staring around you at the silent room, you realised that there really wasn’t much to do. It wasn’t like you to have so much time on your hands. You could always go for a run or test out some of the weapons hidden here.

You had the rest of the house to explore, plans to draw up, a post mortem to assess what went wrong on the mission, even though the last option wasn’t possible without Sam’s cooperation.

Fuck it, you decided. Couch it is.

Kicking your feet up, you grabbed the TV remote to flip to the news station. The town rarely had anything to report on but it would be worthwhile to know what exactly was available around. Possibly assimilate in the crowd in case you wanted to be hidden.

It took you a few minutes of mindless surfing through static channels till you found it. It seemed like a scene right out of a Hallmark movie; the reporter was holding a microphone to a child who looked like he understood nothing of what was going on.

You were barely paying attention as it flipped from segment to segment, other things taking precedence in your mind even though you willed yourself to relax. There really wasn’t much to make a note of other than a few good samaritans and how utterly boring the lack of content was. A few occasional glimpses of stores and other resources available in the background were the only interesting part.

You were starting to drift off by the time it reached the breaking news of the evening. Sam had already come back when the sky slipped into twilight. He barely acknowledged your form lazing on the couch, only offering you a greeting and a goodbye as he made himself his dinner to take to the room.

Your eyes were just about closing when the breaking news of that evening came in. It was all politics. People you knew from old missions waving and smiling their way to lead their country as if the dubious acts they committed behind the scenes to get there was erased.

Until you suddenly jolted awake, eyes wide open.

“Wilson. Wilson!” You hit the cushion furiously to get his attention when he didn’t respond the first time around.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What?” he yelled in response, mild irritation in his voice. You knew it sounded like you were shouting bloody murder even though no one was around other than you two, but you didn’t care.

“Look at this!” You couldn’t stop gawking at the screen. “Fuckin’ unbelievable.”

“What? What do you wa-” He stalked into the room, ready to tell you to stop yelling but stopped mid sentence when he finally saw what you were so concerned about.

“Reports claim that the victim was attacked early in the afternoon at his villa. Officers say they found multiple signs of a forced entry, following which he was shot dead. So far no arrests have been made but the police have since released photos of two suspects of whom, they claim, have reason to believe orchestrated the attack.”

On the right side of the screen flashed yours and Sam’s picture side by side. Old mugshots from a petty offence you committed years ago for which Ransone bailed you out.

“The pair are said to be on the run after escaping before law enforcement arrived. If you have any tips on the whereabouts of-”

You turned to look at Sam. His stare didn’t budge from the TV as they once again reminded the public what you both looked like.

Years of anonymity, working in the shadows and creeping around to avoid being recognised only to have the entire country know what you looked like.

“Well, shit,” he finally exhaled. “Somehow I think our stay here just got extended.”

Part 4

#sam x reader #sam wilson x reader #mcu fic #sam fic #sam wilson fic #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson angst #sam wilson series #falcon #falcon x reader #the falcon x reader #hitman!sam wilson #hitman!au #shut in fic #marvel fic #marvel #mcu #sam wilson #the falcon

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bigskydreaming · 4 years ago

Text

Hello, hello, tis I, your friendly neighborhood ‘dude who is obsessed with people making jokes and insults out of Dick’s name’ back with another episode of Why No But Seriously Why!

In today’s episode, we’re going to focus on the fanon of the swear jar. That thing ordained by Alfred that makes many an appearance in fics and headcanons....including ones that also show Jason and/or others calling Dick a Dickhead and other things all willy nilly and suchlike and forthwith.

How does this track, asketh I? Does Alfred provide exemption clauses for making fun of your brother, to the others? Does Alfred not consider making crude insults out of the name Dick to be a swear? Does Alfred, a born Brit, hailing from the land of the “We’ve Been Calling Richards ‘Dicks’ For Longer Than The Rest Of You Have Been Calling Them Rich’s,” not consider the fascination with making penis jokes out of the name of a child he’s helped raised from the age of EIGHT to be uncultured, crass and frankly unacceptable in any house he resides in?

I’m just saying, does it really make sense, and is the risk of pulling readers out of your story if they’re NOT amused by the jokes made of his name really worth whatever it is you feel is added to a story BY making the same old jokes about Dick’s name?

As I’ve said many times before....Dick Grayson? Fictional character. Has no feelings that actually need protecting....OUTSIDE of fiction. Making jokes about his name from beyond the fourth wall, just people commenting on a fictional character’s name? Go wild, go crazy, have a freaking Bacchanalia. Truly does not matter, if you ask me.

But IN universe? IN fiction? Totally different story, because look what those jokes require or make assumptions out of:

1) That Dick truly has no protective or defensive feelings whatsoever about his childhood nickname, and genuinely feels nothing about people habitually taking his choice to keep it as an invitation to insult or mock him.

1b) That Dick doesn’t in any way ever perceive peoples’ insistence on associating his name MORE with the insults and penis jokes than they do with it just being a name, to in any way be a slight against his beloved parents, of the “well they should have known better than to call him that” variety.

1c) That Dick has no negative feelings whatsoever about the fact that even his close friends and family regard his name as being no more worthy of respect or being ‘offlimits’ than the average Gothammite or public citizen might regard it, despite the fact that his close friends and family are perfectly aware of the public’s history of looking down on Dick for his origins and thus you’d think would WANT to appear different than them in Dick’s eyes.

1d) That Dick has never at any point expressed anger, frustration or bitterness that he can’t even have his name respected without even loved ones superimposing their own associations on top of it, no matter what it means to HIM.

2) That Alfred truly has no opinions whatsoever of the other charges in his care disrespecting Dick’s name and its origins stemming from his first parents.

2b) That Alfred has never expressed this opinion to any of them or made his displeasure about such jokes known.

2c) That Alfred doesn’t find it disappointing that the rest of the family and associated friends and allies seem disinclined to separate themselves from the general public’s opinions of Dick’s name by regarding it with a little more respect as at least a sign that they regard Dick himself with a little more respect than the general public.

3) That Jason or none of Dick’s other friends or family have never taken the initiative to wonder for themselves how Dick might actually feel about the frequent jokes or insults, and if shockingly, he might not actually be fond of them.

3b) That Jason or Dick’s other friends or family have chosen not to care or respect the opinions of Dick and/or Alfred or anyone else who states or suggests that these jokes or insults aren’t welcome.

4) That none of Dick’s other friends, be they Titans, or Uncle Clark, or siblings like Cass or Damian or frankly anyone, ever speak up in defense of Dick’s name and suggest that there’s a significant lack of respect around it and thus around him, that they personally take a very dim view of. (Even when Jason’s best friends include Dick’s former fianceé and own longtime BFF).

5) That nobody has ever bothered to think that only EVER being addressed by some form of insult by even his own siblings might possibly have a slightly demoralizing effect on someone’s self-esteem over time.

5b) That nobody has ever bothered to think that making sexual jokes about his name and thus innately sexualizing Dick from even his earliest days in Gotham, when coupled with the hyper-sexualized stereotypes people often apply to Romani individuals and further coupled with the suggestive rumors surrounding Bruce’s reasons for taking in a young boy, might possibly have contributed over time to Dick having an extremely skewed view of himself as an innately sexualized being no matter what he actually did in terms of sexual behavior.

I mean.....there’s more. If I felt like it.

But the point is......there’s a LOT of implicit assumptions that creep in alongside the seemingly harmless jokes and insults surrounding Dick’s name, the second you start to really focus in on how it might appear from his POV....IF you include even just the possibility that he DOESN’T like it.

EDIT: Also, lots of people have pointed out that its just sibling culture to make fun of a sibling in ways that you wouldn’t be okay with someone outside the family making the same jokes. And this is absolutely true! BUT. My issue here and why I don’t think the Dickhead jokes fall under this umbrella, is because I can say in my experience being from a blended family, and from what I’ve discussed in the past with other kids from blended families....there are ‘rules’ about this sort of thing, when you have adopted siblings, and the one near-universal truth that I’ve always found is that anything that stems from an adopted sibling’s first family, the one you do NOT share with them, is absolutely off limits. You mock them for something that originated outside your family, you’re the asshole, because at that point, you’re literally no different from outsiders to your current family making fun of that sibling. That ‘joke’ is not YOURS to make or share in, if you do not have the history with the thing you’re basing the joke on, that your sibling has with it. Shared history is the entire basis of siblings being able to mock each other while still citing solidarity against outsiders, and in adopted families, there absolutely are elements of each others’ lives that YOU are the outsider to, and it absolutely falls on you to respect that just as you’d want your sibling to respect the same of you in turn. If Jason absolutely would not be okay with Dick or anyone else making jokes about Catherine or his life with her, he should not be okay with making jokes about Dick’s name, circus origins, or other aspects of his life that stem from or call back to his time with his first family. The same holds true of all the others as well.

The other aspect of this name-calling not falling under the excuse-umbrella of just being typical sibling culture is its entirely one-sided. Show me the tendency where Dick responds to these everpresent jokes or insults by even light-heartedly calling Jason and the others insults like Hey Asshole, or Dumbass or anything like that. When things are entirely one-way, the impression given is not that of a camaraderie of back-and-forth. It becomes just one person or multiple people punching down in a way they feel confident from experience the other person will NOT respond in kind, which gives them an outlet for venting frustration, resentment or aggravation which risks them nothing, because they KNOW Dick won’t retaliate, and at that point that exchange becomes something very different from a general sibling back-and-forth....because there’s no ‘back.’ What you end up with at that point is literally just hostility, no matter if more mild than other cases, and a situation where one sibling is simply taking ADVANTAGE of the opportunity afforded by another sibling’s good nature and refusal to engage in hurt feelings even while you feel free to cause those feelings in them. And that’s just not a good look. Its just not. And even if you find those exchanges humorous yourself as a writer or a reader, you might want to keep in mind that to plenty of other readers, its making even the characters you like and INTEND to be liked, just....come across as kinda not cool assholes instead.

END OF EDIT.

And here’s the other point:

Its not really about his name, and never has been.

His name is simply emblematic of how EASY it is for people to fall into the trap of just....choosing to overlook Dick’s POV entirely, the second its pitted against other characters and what they might gain from their POV....even if that ‘gain’ is as simple and basic as the slight moment of humor Jason gets from making a joke or mocking insult out of Dick’s name.

Here, let me present this another way:

Every single person alive has SOMETHING they get defensive or protective about. SOMETHING that they’re like no, this is offlimits to people, this is not for their consumption, their entertainment, its not for THEM to take and twist into something other than what it is for ME, because its MINE. This is basic human nature. EVERYONE has this feeling about SOMETHING that’s particular to them.

And with Dick, most of the things that we’re generally given to view him being protective or defensive about are either almost more about other people than him - such as being protective of his family members - or else, they’re things that he’s not ALLOWED to be purely defensive or say, territorial about.

Like for instance, the name Robin.

Think about how Robin is pretty much one of the ONLY things Dick is largely deemed to be defensive or proprietary about.....BUT how that’s also largely used NOT to have him wholly in the right for feeling that way.....but to put him in conflict with the other Robins, given that they also have strong feelings about the name regardless of its origins, and its not solely Dick’s anymore.

Now here’s my question:

If for example, you go with the take that Robin was Dick’s mother’s name for him, and that’s why Dick is so protective and defensive of that name.....why would he be any LESS protective or defensive about his mother AND father’s OTHER name for him....given that the only possible reason for him TO stick with the name Dick all throughout adulthood, is that its the form of his name they referred to him by, and thus, clearly, it DOES carry emotional significance for him?

See what I’m saying?

Why is it, that the only time so many people see Dick laying a claim to something, being defensive or protective of something that’s HIS, standing up for HIMSELF.....is when the waters are murky, when its not a clear cut case of him being wholly in the right, when it pits Dick against someone else and says both are at least somewhat valid?

Why is it so RARE to see people imagine Dick putting his foot down in defense of himself, in defense of something that’s HIS.....where its 100% crystal clear that he has every right and reason in the world to feel this way, where there’s no doubt whatsoever that he’s on the correct side of thinking “this is mine and I get to say this”?

Even about something as simple and basic as his own name?

And why is it the only time we seem to see people sticking up for Dick or weighing in on his behalf, its in the case of extreme actions like him having been raped or abused? Why are there hardly any stories of people looking at alleged family and friends bitching about Dick or heaping insults on him or his capabilities and saying hey, he’s been doing this while most of us were sitting in middle school detention, you could show him some respect? Why do none of the people who value and respect Dick so highly ever seem to weigh in like THAT in stories?

My challenge, should you choose to accept it, is just to look at the above list of possible reasons why Dick might not be thrilled about how people use his name....and just IMAGINE what it would look like, if Dick just said to another character....”Hey. Could you cut that out. I would appreciate it if you didn’t do that.” Even just “I really don’t like that.”

How does a scene like that go? One where Dick is wholly and completely justified in putting his foot down, in feeling that someone is overstepping or paying him an insult or a disservice?

We hear all the time in fandom about how in the name of ‘humanizing’ Dick and ‘making him more relatable’ some people focus overly much on emphasizing his flaws, his alleged temper, his secretiveness, etc.

I’d like to argue that flaws are not actually the only staple of humanity. Risking making a character more dislikable is not actually the only way to make them feel more human or relatable. THIS is another way to do that. Make them defensive, proprietary, territorial, even prickly.....but with REASON. With CAUSE. With JUSTIFICATION. Because people are ALLOWED to be, when people are being a - all irony intended - total dick to them.

And there is a long, LONG history in fanfics, of people being exactly that to Dick, and him just....smiling.

EXCEPT for when his choice NOT to smile, and to actually take offense and push back......pits him against another character but with the other character usually being granted just as much right and reason to not give way.

So? I’m saying you have right here a perfect example of how to flip the script on that. To make it abundantly clear that Dick has just as much right to put his foot down with even people who love and care about him and say hey, you’re doing something I don’t like, that in fact even hurts me, and I want you to stop.

Why not use it? Why does there always seem to need to be an ARGUMENT about whether or not Dick is in the right to feel wronged in some way.....when its so abundantly clear that he’s given no shortage of reasons for that in practically every other fic?

And consider.....if you’ve never previously entertained the idea that Dick might take offense to how people treat his name, or feel defensive about it......what else might you be overlooking that he could feel that way about, and is there any reason why you think you tend not to view Dick as being defensive of HIMSELF and things that are uniquely his?

*Shrugs* Just food for thought, mayhaps.

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sokkas-honour · 4 years ago

Note

For the Spotify writing could you do 50 for Korra

ms. california - korra x reader

pairing: korra x reader (gender neutral)

wc: 1.8k

notes/warnings: nothing here folks :)

i love your voice but hate the way, you talk of her consistently

you heard the boats coming in before you saw them, you heard the cheers erupting from a small crowd that had formed around the south pole’s dock, all flocking to catch a glimpse of their avatar coming home. while everyone’s excitement stemmed from seeing what was essentially a hero, you were just excited to finally see your oldest friend whom you hadn’t seen since she had left to go back to republic city after spending time healing with master katara in the south pole.

excitement cursed through your veins at the prospect of seeing your best friend after years of being separated as you ran to mix in with the crowd of natives welcoming one of their own home.

your heart swelled once you finally spotted her, standing proudly at the front of the ship, her mother placed right next to her as they both waved at the crowd. you noticed her newly cut hair that you had only seen in recent varrick industries movers, it looked even better on her in person.

you pushed your way through the crowd, excusing yourself as you bumped into several people, most of them unphased as they kept their gaze on the master of all four elements. you didn’t stop moving until you found yourself next to tonraq, a man who had served as almost a second father to you ever since you were a toddler. your father being one of the water bending masters that kept an eye on korra growing up, meaning you grew up alongside her at the white lotus compound.

“hey y/n, excited?” the chief asked as soon as he noticed your presence next to him, keeping his eyes on his daughter that was fast approaching.

“yes sir.” cheers got louder as the boat finally stopped, chief tonraq invited you to join him as he walked towards the boat, the guards he had enlisted letting you pass in order to join him.

when your eyes met here as she started coming down, you felt a smile grow on your features as you watched her face mirror yours, two old friends finally reuniting.

unexpectedly, korra picked up the pace and wrapped you in a hug as soon as she got near you, taking you by surprise.

“i missed you.” she exclaimed as you were returning it, happy to once again be in her arms. her large coat was soft to the touch but she smelled rather foreign, most likely due to the fact that was living in a bustling city. the sound of her voice was something you didn’t expect to miss so much but now that you finally heard it for the first time in months, you didn’t want to ever go without it again.

“missed you too.” you squeeze her slightly before you two finally broke apart, grins still on your faces as you both eyes each other up and down in order to see if there were any noticeable changes in each other’s appearance.

a little later during the day, after following korra revisit her home town you ended up having dinner at her childhood home. swapping not only childhood stories but also catching up on the things you had missed and that’s when when you found out about her.

one question was asked and suddenly, that’s all korra could talk about, all of her recent experiences being completely thrown out the window to talk about things her girlfriend, asami, had been doing, how her company was doing, some new invention she had come up with in the later hours of the night, a funny thing she had said, everything that was coming out of the avatar’s mouth had something to do with her.

you tried your hardest to engage in the conversation, finding your heart melt at how she talked about asami with so much love and amazement. her eyes sparkled in a way you had never seen them and you felt your heart sting a bit knowing that she’d never talk about you that way, that her eyes would never lit up at the sheer mention of your name. after a couple of minutes of enduring it, you retracted to your own thoughts, letting tonraq and senna interact with their daughter.

but every time you say her name, it honestly kills me

to help digest your food, and because korra insisted she wanted to, you both went on a walk after you finished eating some delicious homemade noodles. the cold didn’t both you as much as you were bundled under your coat, happy to find that outside the sky was clear, no signs of a snow storm in sight.

“sorry, i talked a lot back there.” she immediately said once she stepped out of her home to join you, excusing herself for being the center of attention at her own celebratory dinner.

“you realise that you haven’t been home in ages, and you’re the avatar, you’re the only one with any real stories to tell.” you joked as you started leading her in a random direction, knowing the whole area like the back of your hand meant that no matter where you two went, you wouldn’t get lost.

“come on, life here isn’t that boring.” she laughed lightly at your comment, following you closely so she wouldn’t get lost.

“you’d be surpised.” she rolled her eyes, not believing for one second that her best friend who always loved to live life to the fullest was admitting to living such a monotonous one.

“my dad told me you started teaching people waterbending which means you’re a real master now, that’s cool!” she nudged you lightly, causing a small smile to tug at your lips at the compliment on the full mastering of your skill, something that you were incredibly proud of.

“yeah, it’s not what i plan to do forever but it’s fun.” you shrugged your shoulders slightly before you two fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound between you being the trudging of your boots in the snow and the usual night sounds.

“but i could totally beat your ass, water or all elements, you don’t stand a chance.” you spoke up defiantly while simultaneously holding a joking tone in your words making her stop in her tracks.

“is that so? i’d love to see it.” she placed her hands on her hips as her eyes jokingly narrowed in your direction, thankfully you were still close enough to people’s houses to have some light letting you see her hilarious facial expression that looked identical to the one she used to wear when she was younger.

“how about tomorrow? we can even invite your parents so they see how weak the avatar actually is.” you teased as you suddenly felt the snow beneath your feet shift, causing you to fall backwards. quickly reacting, you brought snow up around the both of your arms to propel yourself forward, directing the snow directly at your friend as soon as your feet were flat on the ground.

korra brought her arms up to stop the snow from hitting her before letting it go limp and drop the ground.

“damnit, i would’ve loved to catch you off guard.” she whined, finally walking up to you after having let you walk by yourself a short distance.

“korra, you called me a master not two seconds ago, did you not think i’d be able to react to that?”

“listen, i didn’t think this through.” she rose her hands up in defence as you laughed, shaking your head at how much your friend could be idiotic when she wanted to.

“no kidding.” your comment earned a gust of air being bent in your face, causing your hood to fly backwards and your face going cold.

you narrowed your eyes at her as she simply stuck her tongue out childishly, causing you to laugh at how immature she was.

“i sure hope your city friends also get to deal with this side of you, would be a shame if they didn’t.” you managed to say once your laughter died down, being met with playfully offended avatar with her arms crossed as she observed you laughing with a quirked eyebrow.

“actually, asami says i’m pretty mature.” she stated matter of factly and you felt your happiness falter slightly at the mention of her girlfriend, wishing you could just go back to five minutes ago when you weren’t reminded of the fact that korra was living a completely different life to yours, one that didn’t involve spending it with you but with some supposed beautiful and genius inventor.

she's your girl, she's in all your pictures. california girl, i wish i was her

the following day, after tiring each other out sparring, you both headed back to her house as she mentionned wanting to show you some pictures she had of her life in republic city. you had barely seen certain staples of it like air temple island and the aang statue inside of books but never anything more.

“this is the spirit portal in the middle of the city.” you had seen numerous times the southern portal but there was something about the new one that made it stand out, while trying to figure it out, you spotted her, tall, long black hair, looking adoringly at korra who was talking to some officiel and you knew right then and there that was asami.

as korra showed you pictures of the pro bending arena, more in depth ones of air temple island, the spirit vines and in practically all of them you could see her, her whole presence seemed elegant, you could tell why korra had fallen for her.

when you're gone, she sleeps in your t-shirts

“shit i forgot my shirt.” korra mumbled as she frantically searched through the bag for her night shirt as you watched her from the other side of the room.

“don’t you have some here?” you suggested, looking around her room to maybe see one laying around but you knew that senna kept the room nice and tidy while her daughter was away.

“probably, hopefully asami is making use of it.” korra shrugged her shoulders before abandoning her bag on the ground, making her way to her crate where she kept all of her older clothes, grabbing the first one that came in between her fingers before facing you again, excited to have a sleepover like you always used to have.

“yeah, hopefully.” you mumbled, staring at the small fire that korra had lit for extra warmth, wishing that maybe in another life you weren’t just korra’s childhood friend, maybe you two actually got together, maybe if you had followed her to republic city instead of staying home afraid of being reprimanded by your parents for disobeying orders, maybe everything would’ve been different.

it hurts, i wish i was her, ms california.

general taglist: @biqherosix @draqondance @butterfly-skinnylegend @alteasmoon @staygoldsquatchling02 @sunnypluto

lok only taglist: @welovediaaxx @firelady-jay @callmecopper

#korra x reader #atla x reader #avatar the last airbender imagine #lok x reader #avatar the last airbender x reader #krew x reader #korra #atla #lok #avatar x reader #avatar #korra lok x reader

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writingsbychlo · 5 years ago

Text

fakers | alpha!void

word count; 13,813

summary; you just need someone. topretend to be your alpha until you can graduate, and unfortunately, the only applicate candidate is Eli, your best friends void twin.

notes; stick with me, okay? Void’s name is Noah in this, but he goes by ‘E’ or ‘Eli’ for his reputation. He’s Noah Eli Stilinski III, named after his dad’s grandfather since Stiles was named after their mom’s grandfather, just roll with it.

warnings; smut, a/b/o themes throughout, mating, marking, blood play, reference to harassment, reference to cheating.

The minute you took your seat at the lunch table, Scott’s nose was twitching, his eyes flicking to you as he politely tried to ignore the scent but it was hard, and you gave him a small smile in thanks. Your eighteenth birthday had been a curse, in your opinion. Only two months prior had you hit the big number, and you once reasonably diluted omega scent had shot up to incredibly potent, even betas being able to smell it.

By eighteen, most omegas had found an alpha, a relationship to be in and the scent of their mate would cover their own, their body reacting to the affection even if they hadn't been given a mark yet, but not you.

It wasn’t unheard of for omegas to still be single and unmarked at eighteen, it was becoming more and more common as the modern-day evolved, but it still sucked to be a high school senior and have almost every alpha within your vicinity leering at you constantly because their own pheromones decreed that upon sniffling out an omega who was ready for a heat that they should immediately jump on that.

Stiles slung an arm over your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your temple and doing his best to spread his own scent all over you, not that it would help much, he too was an omega, but unlike you, he’d found an alpha. Four weeks before Stiles’ eighteenth birthday, alpha and deputy-in-training Derek Hale had shocked everyone by stepping up and asking Stiles on a date, the two still happily together

He did his best to spread his own scent on you as often as he could, but since your birthday the act had practically become irrelevant. Your friends did the best they could to protect you, shield you from the alphas that often tracked you through the corridors and attempted to convince you to go out with them, but you didn’t want any of them. What you wanted was to graduate, and go to college, and find someone who liked you for you, not because their genetic chemistry told them they did.

“You should get a fake alpha.” Isaac joked, your eyes snapping up to shoot him a false glare but Stiles shrugged beside you, squeezing your shoulder lightly.

“I hate to agree with the person who wears scarves in August, but it’s not a bad idea. Find someone who you can trust, and ask them to scent you until graduation.” Your gaze flicked to your best friend, eyes widening as you looked at him and he sipped at the straw fixed through his drink, his own stare unwavering as you studied him for any sense of a joke, your shoulders deflating under his arm.

“Yeah? And which alpha am I supposed to ask? Jackass Whittemore? Or perhaps that one guy over there who’s been undressing me with his eyes since I sat down?” Stiles followed your gaze, flipping off the boy with a protective scowl, a sigh sounding from him. The same sigh bounced all around the table, and Allison snickered, Scott shooting you a pitiful look as his girlfriend opened her mouth to speak:

“Isn’t Stiles’ brother an unbonded alpha?”

Stiles’ jaw clenched at the mention of his brother, and Lydia’s jaw clenched at the mention of her rival for highest GPA and grades. She worked her ass off every day for those grades, she studied and she showed up to every class, even when she was sick. Noah ‘Eli’ Stilinski skipped half of the days, was often put in detention for being caught smoking behind the gym, and got into regular fights.

Lydia hated that he so effortlessly managed to keep up with her and Stiles’ top averages.

Chatter then picked up once again as Lydia made a crude comment about the aforementioned boy, Stiles jumping in to defend his ‘evil twin’ - as Lydia so eloquently called him - and yet even Stiles couldn't help but cringe in the onslaught of bad deeds and acts voiced all around the table. Your mind drifted from the conversations though, a huff on your lips as you balanced your chin on your hand, the chatter becoming background noise as you got lost in your thoughts.

You watched as the blue jeep pulled up, silently cheering to yourself as you noticed two passengers int he vehicle instead of one, and you bounced over to the car, Stiles waving at you spastically with a wide grin as he yanked the key from the ignition, hopping from the car in unison with his brother. Your eyes locked with that of the second Stilinski boy, and he sent you a lopsided smirk, his eyes scanning over you slowly as he rounded the vehicle, slinging his bag up onto his shoulder.

“You smell fuckin’ fantastic today, sweetheart.” He shot you a wink, licking his lips as he walked past you and Stiles elbowed him in the ribs, a scowl on your face as the boy commented on your evident and alluring scent, but you took a deep breath, Stiles asking if you were ready to head inside, but you shook your head.

“I need to talk to your brother for a moment.” The pair stilled, your best friend looking at your cautiously and Noah glanced back over his shoulder, raising a brow at you and his usual cocky smirk was back as you shot him a pleading look, Stiles gasping beside you as he clicked in.

“No! You can’t ask him!”

“I have to!” You hissed, your fingers locking around the other boy’s wrist as you dragged him away, and he let himself be pulled along with a cocky look on his face as he followed after you, and you eventually released him, rubbing your hands together nervously as you avoided his gaze.

When you looked back up, he was watching you carefully, a coy glint in his eyes, and you swallowed thickly. “I don’t like when people talk about how good I smell. I don’t like being looked at all the time, I don’t like the attention.” His gaze moved over your face, his brows furrowing a little, and your eyes left his as heat rose to your cheeks. “I need someone to scent me and pretend to be my alpha, just until graduation. I trust you, I’ve known you since we were five, and who else understands the struggle more than someone who’s brother is an omega, y’know?”

You punctuated your words with a little laugh, shaking your head as you tried to steady your racing heart, your body feeling like it was on fire as you stood before the taller boy.

“I mean, it’s not like you want to settle down any time soon anyway, so y-” You cut your words off as you watched his fingers jiggle, his eyes directed over your shoulder, and as you turned to look, you noticed a beta from your English class gigging as she pouted at him, as though you weren’t even there, and your breathless laugh of disappointment was mixed with a scoff as you cleared your throat. “Yeah, never mind. This was a bad idea.”

His eyes snapped back to you as you spoke, his lips parted as you moved your bag back up your shoulder, one of his hands reaching out to grasp at your elbow but you jerked out of his reach. “Wait, what? I’m listening, I swear.”

“You can’t even give me your attention two minutes to have a conversation, Noah, h-”

“Don’t call me that here, someone might hear you.” He mumbled, and you rolled your eyes at his aversion of his first name. He dubbed it too old-fashioned and biblical for his tastes, choosing to go by his middle name ever since he started high school and you’d never bothered to get into the habit.

“Sorry, Eli.” The word was practically spat from your tongue as you held your hands up, taking another step away from him. “No other alpha would believe you were in a relationship anyway, it was stupid. I’ll find someone else.” You didn’t give him a chance to reply, choosing instead to walk away, looping your arm through Stiles’ as you walked into the school alongside him, never once bothering to look back.

The idea only festered in your mind, your embarrassment bubbling over as you thought about the conversation and the failure of the plan lingered in your mind all throughout your first to classes. It wasn’t long until Lydia had pried the information on your dull mood out of you, exactly halfway through first period English to be exact, and she’d given you a glare for bothering to talk to her academic archnemesis for a good five minutes before she caved and comforted you.

The rest of your classes were spent trying to decide between other alphas you could go for. Jackson Whittemore was ruled out immediately, he was a jackass and wouldn’t do anything to help you, and neither would any of the other goons on the lacrosse team. Other than the boys in your friendship group, they were all a bunch of sweaty assholes, and the alphas were the worst of them. The alphas you knew that were nice enough to want to be with were all with a beta and in happy relationships, and Stiles was the only other omega you knew of.

The search seemed to be entirely pointless, your options dwindling back down to none, and despite her attempts to cheer you up as she reapplied a layer of pastel-pink lipgloss in the mirror hung up on the inside of her locker, you were still in a dismal mood, and desperately trying to ignore the burning gaze of the blond boy down the corridor from you. As she closed her locker, she opened her mouth to give you yet another pep talk to help you get through the day, her freshly plumped lips sealing into a thin line as she glowered at an unknown source over your shoulder, and you turned in time to see the boy who had caused your morbid embarrassment of the day coming stalking down the corridors toward you.

His eyes locked with yours, his feet carrying him directly toward you without a sign of dodging or stopping, and your eyes widened as he got closer and closer to you. With heavy hands on your hips, he pushed you backwards and into the metal of the lockers, your body colliding with the cool surface as a surprised squeak left your lips, his nose running along the underside of your jaw, tipping your head to the side as you went pliant under his hold and the front of his body was almost pressed against yours, a wet kiss being placed to your jaw as he nuzzled into your neck.

“What the hell are you doing?” Your voice was practically squeaked out, and his hand squeezed your hips, before sliding around to sit on your back as he pulled your body flush up to rest against his, his arms snaking around your waist and his cheek rested against the top of your head. You were limp in his arms, shocking filling your body and he chuckled, the sounds rumbling in his chest and you could feel it pressed to your own as he dipped down, lips brushing the shell of your ear and hot breath fanning over your skin. “I said, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m scenting you, sweetheart. You’re not going to find anyone else to play alpha for you until graduation. Might as well be me.” You sighed, your eyes connected with Lydia’s as she wore an equally wide look of shock, and you lifted your arms, your hands holding onto his forearms carefully as you relaxed a little bit, and he rubbed his face into your neck one more time, before pulling back enough to look at you. “Lydia, you are burning holes into the side of my fucking head. Stop staring at me.”

His words were growled out, his eyes locked on yours and you swallowed thickly under his intense gaze, your lips sealed shut but your red-headed friend scoffed, the toes of her heels clicking on the ground in agitation, her retort being shot back without hesitation. “Stop leeching on my best friend and I will.”

He finally turned to look at her, the usual stormy expression he wore was plastered on his face and he rose a solitary brow at her, and she stared him down, unwilling to be the first to cower. “Why don’t you go on ahead, we have things to discuss. I’ll walk (Y/N) here over to the table when we’re finished, she won’t be alone. I swear it.”

Her eyes flicked to you, and you sent her a small nod, which she accepted, snarling at the boy still holding you tightly before she was walking away, her heels clicking on the floors as she left and the Stilinski twin turned back to you with a gleeful grin.

“I’ll make you a deal, hm?” You narrowed your eyes at him, but gave him a lone nod in signal for him to continue with his words, and he nibbled on his lower lip, before jutting his chin out toward you a little as he held his head high. “I’ll act like your alpha until graduation.”

“You will?”

“You’re awfully surprised by my reaction. You did ask me, and you know how hard it is for me to say no to you.” He dipped his head down, taking a low sniff and humming happily under his breath, when you frowned.

“I don’t want you to say yes to this just because I’m an omega and it’s all instinctual for you to want to help me. I want you to say yes because you want to help me.” You mumbled, and he pulled back to look at you, his eyes studying yours carefully.

“I’m not doing it because an omega asked, I’m doing it because you asked. I do want something in return, though.” Your face crumpled as you blushed, pulling away from him a little as you stiffened in his hold, and he shook his head profusely as your mind spun. “No, not what you’re thinking. I’m a little offended at your reaction, but it’s not that.”

“Then what do you want?”

Your voice was cautious and unsure, and his grin dimmed into a small smile, his fingers reaching up to tuck loose hairs behind your ear. “I have a lot of college applications and interview letters. You have to help me apply, and proofread them all.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Your jaw dropped, before a wide smile took over your features and you searched his face for any signs of deceit, his features reading true and you dropped your forehead forwards to rest on his shoulder, a relieved laugh leaving you and you felt his hands smooth along your back reassuringly in slow circles. “I can’t believe that’s all you want. You’ve totally got a deal.”

He chuckled in your ear, slinging an arm over your shoulder as he pulled away, guiding you toward the lunch hall as you both thought over the bargain you had just made.

On your side, you had never felt safer than you did in this moment. Your best friend’s brother had his arm wrapped around you, his scent already lathered over you and for the first time in months, you didn’t have the piercing gaze of desperate alpha’s watching your every move. Unconsciously, you curled into his side a little more, the familiar smell of the boy you’d known ever since going for your first playdate at the house of the boy whose name a five-year-old you couldn't pronounce brought you a much-needed comfort. Noah Stilinski Jr had never treated you as a possession, or belittled you for your omega state. Perhaps it had been because his mother wouldn't allow it, or perhaps it was simply due to having a twin who was the only other omega in your year group, but he treated you with respect, even if he was a player, and it was only three months until graduation; you could survive until then.

On his side, he was holding you protectively close, the long-buried crush he’d held on you since he’d turned twelve and watched you bounce into the joint birthday party he and Stiles had while wearing a pretty and sparkly dress was beginning to poke its head up once again, and he brushed the tip of his nose against your temple, no idea what he was getting himself into, but he wasn’t willing to let any other alphas near you, whether the relationship was real or fake.

The next morning, you were anxiously waiting outside of the school building, Allison on one side of you and Lydia on the other as they chatted between themselves, the nail of your thumb caught anxiously between your teeth as you tried desperately not to bite it off, simply holding it there for reassurance. The scenting you had been given yesterday was superficial and had worn off the second you had changed your clothes and slept overnight, and you knew from experience with Stiles that it was a while before an alphas scent would start to really cling to an omega.

Eyes were back on you, watching you with steely gazes as both boys and girls alike around you watched don carefully, your heart racing as you waited for the blue jeep to pull up. When it finally did, minutes before the bell rang to signal homeroom, the dirt-smeared vehicle pulled up and haphazardly into a parking space. Your anxiety only seemed to spike as you watched both of the identical boys’ exit and make their way toward you. Stiles had a wide grin on his face. Practically bouncing along as his hands grasped onto the straps of his bag, and his brother walked along beside him, face pulled in a neutral expression, his hands clutching a small bundle of material as his own bag hung from one shoulder.

Your eyes were sealed on him, and he allowed the edges of his lips to flicker up in a barely present smile as he approached, his features softening just enough to ease your worries, and Stiles reached your first, his arms wrapping around you in a hug as he greeted you, before quickly moving on to chat to Lydia and Allison, shepherding the girls inside without even a glance over his shoulder as he allowed his brother to talk to you.

He stood closer to you than he ever had before, bar the previous day’s locker encounter, and he still for a moment, his eyes scanning over you, before he was making some form of grunting noise in the back of his throat, his free hand reaching up to take your bag in his hand as he slipped it from your shoulder, offering you the bundle of grey material he was clutching. “Put this on, and wear it until it doesn’t smell like me anymore, and then I’ll give you a new one.”

You took it from him, shaking it out and looking at the pale grey hoodie before you, and his brows raised as he watched you pause, before you were tugging the baggy material over your head, smoothing it down over your shirt, the oversized jumper hanging slightly loose on you, sleeves falling to the middles of your hands and you ran your palms over the front of it, smoothing it down and admiring the softness of it under your hand. Reaching over, your head snapped up when you felt his fingers brush along the back of your neck, scooping your hair out from under the collar so that it could fall freely down your back once again.

He checked his watch, fishing into his back pocket as he deemed the time to be appropriate, before producing a small and battered cardboard packet. Popping a single neatly wrapped roll from within, he balanced it between his lips, the lighter from within the box clicking a few times as he shielded the flame from the breeze before the end took up an orange ember and immediately began to burn down to ashes, glowing brightly when he inhaled. His hand dropped or yours once he had folded the packet back away, lacing your fingers together and pulling you closer to his side, the other hand with two fingers holding the cigarette on either side.

Letting out the deep breath he was holding, smoke curled into the air as he released it slowly, angling his head upwards as not to blow a mouthful of smoke straight into your face, and you were grateful for it, despite how much you may despise it. Instead of complaining, you chose to twist into him, burying your face into his shoulder and scrunching up your nose as the smell that clung to his clothes, knowing he must’ve smoked in the car on the way over here too, but his arm looped around your waist, holding you to him tightly and letting his fingers draw patterns on your back as you stood in silence.

It was odd, being so comfortable with him. You were well aware of his reputation, of all the bad habits he kept up, and perhaps it was just the fact that you were finally getting the physical attention from an alpha that your body screamed at you to get, but you were happy, and it didn’t feel wrong to let your own arms come up to wrap around his waist as you tried to cover yourself with his scent as much as you could.

You were grateful for the bell ringing, and you hadn't realised you were holding your breath as much as you were until you took a deep breath, watching as he dropped the nearly-finished cig to the floor and stomped it out, guiding you toward the building with slow steps. He could almost feel your hesitancy and nerves, choosing to squeeze your side in comfort to let you know that it was okay, and the action let a surprising amount of calm wash over you.

He walked you all the way to your first class, as he peered inside the classroom, glaring daggers at every pair of eyes hat scanned along your body lustful from within. “I’ll see you at lunch, okay?”

“You will?”

He chuckled at your surprise, nodding down at you and shuffling to the side to allow other students to shuffle into the classroom and past the pair of you in the doorway. “I hate cafeteria food, but it’s curly fry day, so it’s not so bad.” He shrugged, dipping his head to press a kiss to your cheek before he was walking away, and you rubbed at the spot with the sleeve of his jumper on your body the moment he was out of sight, and you slipped inside to talk to sit in your usual seat beside Stiles, who offered you a pensive look, your thumbs up reassuring him that the plan was going well.

“I can’t smell you as much, the alphas probably still can but at least it’s not quite as..”

“Strong? Overwhelming? Irritating?” You offered, and he chuckled, leaning back in his seat as Coach Fistock walked into the room, scowling and setting up at the front, a coffee mug all but slammed down onto the desk as he mumbled to himself.

“I wouldn’t say irritating. You smell good, it’s just.. powerful.” He gave you a dazzling grin as you rolled your eyes at him, choosing instead to focus on Coach as he began to command attention with a range of vague insults and shouts into the room. Each of your classes had been a little easier, you’d found, as even when the alpha wasn’t with you, the jumper on your body offered you a little protection as he dulled your natural scent and mixed it with his own. Lunch was rolling around before you knew it, and you were adding an extra portion of curly fries to your tray as you lined up with your best friend, listening to his chatter about movie night and how last night him and his brother had told his dad all about the deal that had been made, so it wouldn’t be weird if anything happened between the two of you when you came over.

“You remember that this is just for the public eye, right?”

Stiles glanced over at you as he paid for his food, nodding at you with an expression on his face that read as ‘duh’, but he shrugged anyway, moving out of the way to let you pay for your own food.

“Yeah, but Dad said it might be a good opportunity to scent, you know? My dad also said he was proud of my brother - I know, I was shocked, too - he said my mum would be proud of him for helping you out, and I swear I heard him sniffle for a second. I called him out on it and he punched me.” That made you laugh, your friend glaring at you as the two of you walked back over to the table where your friends were waiting, and the second twin had stuck to his word, his face appearing in the doorway as he looked around for you, quickly weaving between the tables.

The seat beside you had purposefully been saved empty, and he sunk down into it with a slouch, a cheeky smirk on his lips as he glanced at your meal. “Hungry, sweetheart?” You rolled your eyes at him, pushing a tray of curly fries over to him as you shook your head, snapping the seal on your water bottle and lifting it to your lips, his brows furrowing as he looked at them. “You bought me fries?”

“It’s the least I could do.”

“We already have a deal. You don’t have to butter me up.” He mumbled, but didn’t hesitate in digging into the potato treat, and you followed suit, shaking your head at his words.

“I’m not, I just wanted to buy you some fries.”

He stared at you for a minute, his eyes narrowed on you before his shoulder sagged and his lips flicked up at the corners. “Thank you.” He paused, before leaning in, rubbing his nose along your jaw and running a hand along your back, making sure to be obvious for any onlookers that might see you. He sat quietly as you chatted with your friends, busying himself with his phone, texting and playing games, slipping outside for a while and coming back smelling of fresh smoke and burnt tobacco, before sitting with you for the rest of the lunch break.

Your days rapidly fell into a new routine that involved him, the days turning to weeks and the little things all became easier. Conversations came without effort to the pair of you, and he even made the effort to reach out to some of the others. Around week two, he started to talk and join in with the conversations at lunchtimes, and his number had become one of the most frequented in your texts list. The physical affection had become more natural, and despite how much he scowled about it, he no longer complained when you called him by his real name in public. It came to being after a very snappy “I have known you since we were five, I’m not calling you ‘E’ when your name is Noah!” to which he merely huffed, dropping his shoulders from their defensive position before allowing a small smile to break through.

To almost everyone's surprise, he’d managed to reign in his flirting to a few small comments that were let slip while aimed at you, and as far as you were aware, he hadn't been with anyone else since your agreement had begun. He was showing up to school more, and actually attending his classes, and the stress you had felt had been deeply relieved.

You no longer felt like you were being watched when you walked through the halls, or worried when you walked alone that a particularly brass alpha might make a move. Even when they did, as much as you hated it, Noah would step in at every opportunity he had, leaving you to frown at him and patch him up after he threw the first punch and started a fight, getting himself battered and bruised in your name.

His hand in yours, kisses being pressed to your cheek or forehead, became a staple in your life, and you quickly found yourself missing the touch, seeking it out as soon as you could, in every free moment. His efforts to scent you had become almost instinctual, even when the two of you were alone. You often found yourself with his hands on your shoulders when you sat at the Stilinski dinner table doing your homework with Stiles, or his body pressed up close to yours when he joined you to study.

When your month marker had rolled around, you’d had a hiccup in the fifth week of your agreement, one that had panicked you greatly for the future of your deal. You’d been waiting at your locker today, Stiles bouncing up to you with pure excitement as Noah fidgetted and stood stiff, a moody expression on his face. His hand had found yours and you’d leaned into his side, his body stiff and he didn’t look at you as you did, never returned the attention or made an effort to acknowledge them.

He had walked you to your class, but was still of a bad temper, his response short and gruff, growing in increasing frustration as he merely grunted and gave you one-word answers, and eventually, you had given up. Lunch was almost over when he excused himself from the table, going to swap out his books at his locker and you turned to Stiles, your eyebrows raised. “What did you do?”

“What?”

“He’s in an awful mood! What did you do?” You pressed, and Stiles pouted, sipping at his chocolate milk and frowning at you.

“It wasn’t me! Actually, it sort of was.” Your brows furrowed, and you pinched his arm as you encouraged him to keep speaking, a yelp leaving him as he rubbed at the patch, scowling at you. “I may have let it slip that you hate the smell of his cigarette smoke the other day, and he’s been on the patch since last night.”

Your eyes widened, and Stiles covered himself for the assault he thought to be coming, but your body slumped, eyes wide as you thought about it. Reaching idly for your bag, you swung it up onto your shoulder, abandoning your half-eaten meal as you jogged quickly from the lunch hall. When you found him, he was glaring into his locker, white-knuckled grip on the door making you think it may actually dent.

Placing your hand over his, he jumped in surprise, looking over you once before closing the locker door, leaning back against it and crossing his arms. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be having your lunch?”

“You gave up smoking for me?”

His body went rigid and tense, his lips pursed before he let out something between a sigh and a groan, shaking his head. “Fucking alpha instincts to look after you.” He was irritated by the action, and rubbed at his arm, your eyes closing in on the space as he lifted up his sleeve to show you the white patch stuck to his pale skin, and a smile found its way onto your face.

“You gave up smoking for me.”

He didn’t get a chance to respond, before you were standing up on the tips of your toes and pressing your lips to his cheek, your forehead bumping against his temple and he hummed, his arms wrapping around your middle to hold you as close to him as he could possibly get you. Your face ended up pressed into his neck, your giggle muffled by his skin as he squeezed at you, his hands holding you so you couldn't get away for him.

After that, the weeks rapidly flowed into months, the connection between the two of you only growing. Along the way, the lines between what you were and what you could be had become blurred, the affections you shared had spread to when the two of you were alone, even if you didn’t need to be scented. More and more of your trips to the Stilinski household had been to visit your alpha, as well as your omega best friend, and Stiles was still hanging the time he’d come home from Derek’s to find the two of you curled up together in a nap over your head as blackmail.

His kisses were now placed regularly on your face, his softer side coming out and only showing for you as he peppered you with affections whenever he could. At some point, you had shifted from your usual place between Stiles and the Sheriff on the couch to squeezed onto the lounge chair beside Noah, his arm wrapped around your waist. Stiles had smirked at you each time, until the week that Star Wars had been selected thanks to it being Stiles’ week to choose, and Noah had spent the entire movie mumbling jokes and comments into your ear, which you couldn't help but laugh at. Stiles told you to take the movie seriously, but you just couldn't.

An ever-revolving collection of his hoodies had begun to build up in your bedroom at home, and you regularly found yourself wearing them, just to feel comforted and closer to him. On the rare occasion, he would place a small kiss to your lips. Those times were rare, and the first time you hadn't even realised it had happened until a while later.

You had spent the day helping him write out all his application letters, one by one until they had all been sent off, the darkness having rolled in as the early hours of the morning ticked by, Stiles snoring loudly beside the two of you as he was surrounded by print outs and forms for GWU, the Sheriff walking through the door and staring at the three of you in your hurricane of sleepy yawns and envelopes, papers spread out around you.

He had offered you a lift home, choosing to wait out by the cruiser as you gathered your things and his son walked you to the door. It had been a simple gesture at the time, and neither of you had thought too much about it when his hand had cupped your cheek, his eyes dropping tiredly as he pressed his mouth to yours in a small peck, and you had eagerly returned the action, your body melting into his for only a moment.

At first, it had only happened again when you were alone. When you had been hanging out at his place, the two of you sitting on his bed and watching a movie on his laptop, or when he’d meet you at your lockers between classes when no one else was around. Scott and Allison were the first two to actually see you kiss, you hadn't even realised they were in the area when you had run up to him, waving a letter of invitation to an open day at one of your n his face before wrapping your arms around his neck, your lips meeting his for a split second before you’d caught Allison’s squealing near you.

Isaac had been next, and he was where the truth had really slipped out, because he had spilled the news to Stiles and Lydia, the former of whom had called you as he had dinner with his boyfriend and demanded you tell him whether Isaac was lying or not, and the latter of whom had simply started smirking at you each time it happened. Everyone else finding out had been a slippery slope, the two of you eventually having given up hiding on the occasional times you wanted to kiss the boy protecting you, or when he wanted to kiss you.

Some of the colleges you had helped him apply for had matched your own, and only two months after you had sent off all your applications, the time for open days and stay-overs at your colleges' choices had rolled around. You were nervous, to say the least. You had gone to elementary school, middle school and high school with Stiles, your best friend and your only omega support. The open days had been exciting, the parties thrilling and the people welcoming, and you’d found that even when you were alone, you weren’t looked on as an omega outsider. The fact that you were unmarked seemed to slip by without bother, and it only built up your excitement to go to college, to join the real world and find your place.

Your last college was the one you were looking forward to the most, and you were practically bouncing with joy as you held onto the hand of the alpha Stilinski, both of you having been invited down to this college for the look-around weekend celebration. Stiles had lent you the keys to the jeep, very reluctantly, and you’d driven down together, matching hotel keys tucked into each of your pockets to the room you were sharing, his fingers flexing around yours as he held you tight.

The activities fair was bright and colourful and loud, and you had already gathered a handful of coloured leaflets, most for you and a few for the man beside you, and he simply pressed himself up to you and stood protectively by your side as you socialised and talked to the owners of each booth, letting him place kisses to your temple and the sides of your head as he waited each time.

You had seen almost every stand as you made your way to the end of the rows, your eyes flicking over the last cluster to see if there was anything you were interested in, when you were suddenly jumping in excitement. “That one says ‘omegas’ on it, I want to know what it is!” You left his side, dashing through the crowds quickly and leaving him to follow, his chuckle barely reaching your ears as you disappeared into the swarms of people.

‘Single Omegas & Omega Support Group’

You swiped up a leaflet, flicking through the pages with a wide smile, immediately writing your name down on the ‘interested’ sheet and filling out your details. When you spun around to find your man, he was standing only a few feet behind you, his eyes narrowed on the sign as his hands stuck in his pockets, his once playful expression now twisted and sour, and he didn’t lighten up as you jumped back into his view with a wide grin.

“What’s up with you, grumpy?”

You leaned up to peck his lips, his head turning to the side as your lips met his cheek and you frowned, pulling away and looking at him. “Single omegas support group?”

“No, single omegas and support group.”

“Same thing.” He growled, and you stepped back, your eyes wide as you looked at him and you rose your brows, lifting a hand to rest on his arm but he jerked away from your touch. You couldn't understand his anger, and you swallowed thickly, tucking your collections of brightly coloured pamphlets into your bag, glancing around the two of you as you felt the tension between you build.

“I just figured it would be good for m-”

“Because you’re single?” Your jaw gaped, opening and closing as you tried to find words. You had never put a label on what you were exactly, but it hurt to hear him so quickly jump to that conclusion. In your mind, you were a couple, you had long since passed the time of dancing around your idle affections, choosing to indulge in them together, but apparently, your answer didn’t come fast enough for him as he scoffed, and he stepped away from you. “Right, I see how you feel then. It’s fine, ‘bout time I got my sexual freedom back anyway. Just in time for college.”

With that, he was storming away from you, your eyes watching him go as he slipped into the crowds, not looking back, and you merely shook your head, knowing he’d get over whatever he was hung up on eventually, and you could explain to him why you had actually been interested in the group. Instead, you pulled your itinerary from your pocket, unfolding the piece of paper and checking your schedule, choosing to give him time to cool down as you went about your day and continued with your activities. You figured he’d just catch up with you at some point.

Next up was taking a tour of campus living and sorority houses, and you had loved every second of it. You weren’t overly interested in joining a sorority, but it was nice to meet all the girls there anyway, and it was especially nice to get a real chance to look around the dorms you might be staying in. They were roomy, both the individual, pairs and group ones had a lot of space. Each building had large communal kitchens and dining rooms that were fully decked out, and they weren’t the well-worn and dirty places, but instead clean and stylish, they weren’t destroyed or gross but the sparsely furnished places were somewhere you could actually see yourself living in, and you were sad that the alpha you felt so deeply for wasn’t here with you to look around them.

A sweet girl in a green shirt with the university insignia was standing outside of the building when you left, handing out leaflets and chatting about a welcome party being held at one of the sorority houses, and you took one, smiling politely and stepping aside to check the time on your phone. Your notifications were empty, and you lifted the device to your ear after clicking on his name in your call logs, and it rang for a few beats before being cut off and sent to voicemail, telling you that he was ignoring your calls.

If he wanted to play that game, then fine.

Instead of lingering on the thought, you chose to check the address on the paper, making your way through the large campus and eventually finding where you were supposed to be, music pumping through the air loudly before you’d even finished walking up the front garden of the large house. You had sent him a text a while ago informing that you were going to a party, and where it was, hoping that he would come and meet you. Hours passed by, many drinks being consumed and many conversations being had but you never caught onto his familiar face. The lingering sadness of your argument faded away as you found yourself slightly tipsy, giggling with two omega girls you had found, before piling yourself into a taxi and slurring the address of your hotel to the driver.

The drive was short, or perhaps that was just what your drunken mind had left you believe, but you were soon leaning against the walls of the elevator and watching excitedly as the floors clicked up to your level, joy buzzing through you at the thought of crawling into the large double bed with the man you cared so deeply for, and putting this stupid disagreement behind you.

Your card swiped across the reader beside the frame, the door clicking open for you and the dopey smile soon fell from your face as you took in the sight before you. Naked, hot and sweaty was your alpha, buried deep within another woman, her legs wrapped tightly around her waist and his lips locked on hers as he pounded into her. The door slammed against the wall as you lost your grip on it while stumbling, and his eyes widened as he saw you there, but you were soon enough just backing out of the room, far too tipsy and tired to actually deal with what you were seeing.

So, that’s where your ‘relationship’ stood with him.

The door slammed shut behind you as tears welled in your eyes, and you blinked them away, not bothering to look back as you made your way back down to the lobby to request a second room for yourself. The morning brought a hangover and regret, sadness welling within you and the bed you were sleeping in alone felt cold and unwelcoming, when you should have been in the arms of the boy you had come with, but he’d been fucking another girl in your shared bed.

Eventually, you had dragged yourself from between the sheets, working yourself up to going to the original room to collect your things, and you thanked whatever higher power there was that he was still passed out in the sheets with his latest whore when you arrived, leaving you free to gather your belongings and sneak back to your new room in peace.

A hot shower had barely cleared your thoughts, and your eyes still stung from tears, but at least you were fresh-faced and ready for breakfast. You ate alone, in silence, choosing to text him and tell him in the simplest terms you could muster that you would meet him at the car at eleven for the journey home. Halfway through your food, Stiles had texted you, asking how it went, and you felt nauseated, abandoning your food in favour of calling him, breaking down in tears the second you heard your best friend’s voice over the phone as you spilt everything that had happened to him.

At ten forty-five, you returned to your room, gathering your suitcase and returning the keycard to the desk, thanking the attendee and making your way out to the car. The source of your emotional turmoil was already sitting in the vehicle, radio turned on with low volume as his fingers tapped on the steering wheel, and he made no effort to get out and help you when you loaded your bags into the back. He didn’t greet you when you climbed into the passenger seat, he didn’t even look at you, his jaw clenched as he kept his eyes on the road and turned the key in the ignition, silence filling the car.

His neck and jaw were littered with dark purple hickies, his hair still messy and he was wearing the same clothes he had been yesterday, the smell of cheap perfume still clinging to him, and you turned away, your body facing the window as your head rested on the door, and you chose to put your earphones in and crank up the music to drown out your feelings, not a single word being spoken between the two of you on the drive home.

Barely two weeks had passed since you had spoken to him, and your heart was aching for him, your body screaming at you to return to your alpha, but he was avoiding you at all costs. He was missing school again, getting plenty of detentions when he did show up, and the smell of him was wearing away.

It was clear that he was no longer your alpha, and others were beginning to approach you again, the freedom and security you had found when you were by his side was slipping away as you once again became timid and scared, nervous about the people surrounding you. Stiles was struggling to keep an eye on you more than ever as graduation closed in and more and more alphas began to desperately proposition you before you went to college, wanting to claim you and make you theirs, their natural instinct being to do so.

He was elated when his letter from GWU had arrived, and you had a small bundle of letters to open, including one to the college that you so desperately dreamed of attending, and he was busily setting up two glasses on the coffee table, takeout menus ready and a stack of movies loaded up for the two of you as he buzzed around, awaiting your arrival.

“What are you moving about so quickly for?”

“I forgot to set up!” Stiles snapped, glancing up at his brother who was dawdling on the stairs, and one lone eyebrow raised as the other stayed solitary.

“Date with Derek?”

“No, (Y/N) is coming over.” He stiffened at that, his glare fixed on his hyperactive brother as he scoffed, and Stiles looked up at him hands on his hips as he paused, an angry expression on his usually joyful face, and he tutted. “I’m not going to stop hanging out with my best friend in my home, just because you fucked up and fucked someone else.”

“Can’t fuck up something that never was!” He retorted, walking the rest of the way down the stairs and taking a handful of popcorn from the bowl Stiles had set out, and the former twin huffed, hands twitching by his side.

“You’re so fucking stupid, Noah.”

“No, I’m not, Mieczysław.” Stiles scowled at the use of his real name, watching his brother retreat back to the stairs, and though he knew it wasn’t his place to step in, he couldn't help but open his mouth, the words pouring out before he could stop them.

“She didn’t like the group because she thinks of herself as single.” His brother paused his ascent of the stairs when he was only two from the stop, and Stiles stood at the base of the stairwell, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m the only omega she’s known for her entire life, and when I went to GWU to check it out, I met this guy from an omega support group who was really nice, and it was an easy way to meet other omegas. She didn’t want advice on being single, she just wanted a chance to meet other omegas. I encouraged her to look for one of those groups too, because she’s going to need new omega friends when I can’t be with her, and you didn’t even give her a chance to explain that before you were hopping into the sheets with someone else.”

The news hit him like a ton of bricks and he felt as though he’d been winded, his body twisting to sit on the tops step as he looked at Stiles, not getting a chance to say anything when the door was suddenly being knocked upon, loud and frantic and Stiles disappeared from his sights to open the door.

“Hey, you made it a-” He paused, the door quickly slamming shut and he leaned down, peaking between the bannisters of the railing to see you clinging onto Stiles, his brother holding a hand to the back of your head as the other wound around your waist. “What the fuck happened? Are you okay?”

When you pulled back you were shaking, and you didn’t notice the other twin lurking at the top of the stairs, too busy blinking back the tears that lined your eyes as you let out a nervous and relieved laugh.

“You smell like cheap beer, weed, and random alphas?” His nose scrunched up as he held you at arm’s length, and the hidden twin could smell it all the way from the top of the stairs, rage twisting in his gut as the word ‘mine’ played on a loop within his mind, unable to stop it from happening as biology took over.

“I was walking over and there was this group of alpha guys, they were sort of drunk and some of them were smoking pot and they just got a little confident, because my scent has been coming back stronger. They made a bunch of comments and came over to me, and they wouldn't leave me alone, so I ran the rest of the way here.” Your words were spoken through deep breaths as you tried to calm both your nerves and your racing heart, and both twins frowned, one filled with concern while the other filled with guilt.

“I should have come and collected you, instead of letting you walk.”

“Hey, what can you do? That’s just the life of an unmarked omega, right?” You joked about it, brushing off the incident as though it was nothing and it only made him feel worse, because he had abandoned you over his own impatience, jumping to conclusions and leaving you to fend for yourself. He watched as Stiles guided you to the living room, letting you put down your belongings as he spoke to you about getting a bath, and you never even noticed when Noah slipped from the house, boiling with rage and practically seething as he walked along, but Stiles did.

Your best friend ran you a bath, making sure to tip far too much scented bubble mix into it to ensure the smell would leave your skin, and he’d left a small pile of clothes out for you on the counter for when you finished as he threw yours into the wash to get them clean for you once again. You were feeling better, you felt fresh and rejuvenated and pure joy was flooding through your veins as the two of you poured over takeout menu options as Indiana Jones played in the background on the tv screen, the door opening and slamming closed shocking you so much you almost fell from the couch.

“You’re wearing my sweater.” You pinche the fabric between your fingers, having grown so accustomed to borrowing clothes from either of the Stilinski boys that you had lost track of which item of clothing belonged to whom, and your eyes flicked up to meet his for only a second, widening as you took in his bloodied knuckles, grazed cheek and a bruised jaw.

“My clothes will be done soon. I’ll give it back in a minute. I didn’t know.” Your voice was scratchy and full of emotion as you spoke, your gaze leaving him when he could only muster a nod in response, before he was taking the stairs two at a time and disappearing upstairs. Your jaw dropped as you turned or his brother, a smirk on his face and you slapped him on the arm for giving you the wrong hoodie, but your eyebrow raised too. “What happened to him?”

“Well, I think - I think - he got in a fight.”

Your face dropped at his sarcasm, and you scowled at him, flicking him on the tip of his adorably sweet nose and his face scrunched up at the action, his tongue flicking out to prod at the tingling tip of his nose, his eyes crossing as he pulled a face at you and the action prompted a giggle from you, but you whined at him as you encouraged him to tell you what happened.

“Fine! Fine. If I’m taking a wild guess here, I’d say that he wasn’t too happy about the fact that you got borderline assaulted by some random alphas on your way over here, and so he headed out and got himself in yet another punch up for your honour.” Stiles paused, glancing at you carefully, before continuing on; “He’s miserable without you, he misses you.”

“Oh.”

Silence sat between the two of you, and you picked at your nails, choosing to snuggle into the couch and watch the movie, ignoring Stiles’ burning gaze on the side of your head, before he snapped, pausing the movie and groaning loudly when five minutes of silence, bar the tv noise, had passed by and you still hadn't budged. “Oh, my God. This is killing me, please just go and talk to him?”

You looked over at him, your jaw hung slack and he fixed you with a stern glare, both of you knowing you wanted to, and eventually you were heaving yourself up from the couch, climbing the stairs slowly as you made your way to the bathroom. He was rifling through a first aid kit when you approached, and you clicked the door shut behind you, leaning back against it, and he swallowed thickly when he glanced up and saw you, pausing his search through the small medkit as he cleared his throat.

“Hey.”

He winced at the sound of his own voice, and you simply nodded, moving toward him and plucking items for the box, well experienced in patching him up after fights by now, and he simply allowed you, choosing to lean back on the counter until he was the same height as you.

“What are you and Stiles doing?”

When he eventually spoke again, you were in the middle of dabbing a fresh ball of disinfectant soaked cotton along his grazed cheek and cleaning it up, your movements pausing, and you dropped your hand to look at him. “We were opening college letters together. He got his from GWU and I got my top choice, y’know, the college we went to look at together.” He frowned at your words, but licked over his lips, nodding and putting on a fake smile as you went back to work.

“And how did it go?”

“We both got in.” You got caught up in your thoughts as you discarded the cotton wool ball, squeezing bruise cream out onto your fingers and holding his face, tilting it to the side so you could smooth the paste across the skin and rub it in gently. “It’s great, actually, it means I’m only a two-hour drive from Stiles, so I won’t be quiet as alone as I would have been at any others, y’know? He’s there if I need someone.”

“You never would have been alone.” His words were whispered, and you paused, silence falling over the two of you as you rubbed healing gel onto the cuts and scrapes on his skin, and you packed away the kit, putting it back in the cupboard once the box was sealed shut and the anticipation was killing him, his mind spinning as he tried to find words to get you to talk to him, to talk about what happened, anything. “You didn’t tell me why you wanted those leaflets.”

Your eyes narrowed on him as his eyes widened, your eyebrows pulled together as your jaw ticked in anger. “You didn’t exactly give me a chance to explain.”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean, well, you didn’t come back to the room for hours an-”

“Oh, so it’s my fault that you slept with someone else in our bed? I’m so sorry you were forced to have sex with the hottest whore you could find because I was trying to give you space after you stormed off and ignored my calls and texts.” You were growling at him, his alpha instincts kicking up in both rage and lust at your feisty attitude, and yet he hated the way it was making him feel, because he was further fucking up what he had already fucked up, just because he couldn't find the right words to say. “You couldn’t even wait one night during an argument before needing to get your dick wet again?”

“I thought we were breaking up, or breaking off whatever we were..”

“Couples don't just break up after one fight! No relationship would ever last if they did!” His breath felt punched from his lungs as he stared at you, eyes wide as you huffed, cheeks flushed from your shouting and you ran a hand through your hair, because you had confirmed it for him, and he couldn’t help the smile that was forming on his face.

“We’re a real couple?”

“Well, I thought we were, but then I came back to find you in bed with another chick, so..” You prodded at his chest, and he couldn't find it within himself to be angry because his hands were finding your hips and he was pulling you closer to him, even if your hands did flatten against his chest in a very weak and rapidly abandoned effort to push him away. Your arms ended up crushed between the two of you as he pulled you in close, raising a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, the tip of his nose bumping against your own.

“I want that for us. I want that to be us. I want us to be a real couple.”

You sighed, your anger slipping away as you looked up at him, shaking your head fondly, the word ‘dumbass’ slipping out under your breath, as you leaned in, resting your forehead on his shoulder and laughing under your breath. A muffled voice came through the door, smug even through his warm tone, as he told you he was going to go over to Derek’s for a few hours, and congratulating you for working it out.

Once the front door clicked shut, the sound of the jeep starting up, his fingers found yours, lacing your fingers together, he pulled you from the bathroom, guiding you along the familiar route to his bedroom. Kicking the door shut behind him, he picked up a torn open envelope from the desk and waved it at you, your eyes taking in the logo, flicking back up to him, filled with hope. “I got in, too.”

You jumped into his arms, his arms wrapping around your waist as you squealed, his arms wrapping around your waist as he laughed into your ear, spinning you in a circle before placing you back on the ground, ideas and thoughts already spilling from your mouth. You still had all the brochures for clubs you’d thought he might like, and you were waving excitedly as you told him all about the tours he’d missed, that there were joint dorm rooms, and how maybe the two of you could get one together.

Slipping a hand into your hair and one on your hip, he silenced you, his mouth closed over yours mid-sentence and cutting you off as he pressed a loving and passionate kiss toy our lips, his finger straightening in your hair and on your hip when your lips pressed back to his with just as much vigour. Your arms wrapped around his neck, stabilising you as the depth of the kiss made your legs shake, his tongue tracing the seam of your own and you happily parted them for you, his head tipping to the side to allow himself deeper access to your mouth.

“You’ve never kissed me like that before.” Your words were spoken breathlessly, your eyes still closed, his too, his lips barely brushing against yours as he took a deep breath, and he hummed lowly, the sound rumbling from his chest as he squeezed at your hips. He licked over his lower lip, catching against yours too, and you chased his lips a little, a chuckle on his lips as he gave you a sweet but short kiss, indulging you just enough to gain a little sigh from your lips as you rocked back from standing on your tiptoes to on the flats of your feet. “Why have you never kissed me like that before?”

“It’s not for a lack of wanting to.” He teased, and your hands slipped down from his shoulders to grip at his waist, tugging needily on the edge of his shirt to pull him closer to you, a needy whine on your lips as he indulged you, pressing the front of his body up to yours. “People who are faking it don’t kiss like that.”

“I really wouldn’t have complained.”

“Good to know.” He smirked, dipping back down to once again kiss you, his tongue slipping straight between your lips to toy with your own, your body going pliant in his hold as the slow kiss took your breath away. Your feet were moving beneath you in stumbling steps, until the backs of your legs met the silky fabric of his bedsheets, and you tore your lips away from his, taking a deep breath as you did, lips wet and slightly swollen as you looked between him and the mattress. You’d been on his bed before, laying across it with books and laptops spread out around the two of you. You’d been in his bed before, his arm looped around your waist and your back pressed up to his front as you took a peaceful nap, and yet this context was entirely different.

His hands slipped to your jaw, guiding your face back to his, and his thumbs smoothed over your cheeks as dark eyes stared into yours lovingly. “Tell me what’s going on in that little head of yours.”

You licked your lips, looking down and nodding as you tried to clear your thoughts, your hands tugging the ends of his t-shirt and lifting it up, your hands slipping under the thin fabric to brush over his skin, his muscles tensing under your touch, rippling as your trailed your fingertips from his sides to the happy trail covering the loosely defined abs under his shirt. “First of all, I really want you to take your shirt off.”

He grinned cheekily, his head tipping to the side and he let you push the material up his sides, before he was reaching behind his neck and peeling the top from his body, dropping it to the floor and letting you smooth your hands over the hard planes of his chest. He flexed the muscles under your touch, your lips clamped between your teeth, and his hands found the edges of the jumper that belonged to him, hanging around your mid-thighs and he tugged it up to your waist, catching your eye as he looked for confirmation from you. Lifting your arms up above your head, he dragged the material away from your body, a growl sounding from him as your body lay bare beneath the fabric, his eyes darkening and he skimmed his hands over your sides, a short pant leaving him as he watched your nipples pearl in the cold air, standing taut for him and just begging to be licked at. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“What I want.. like, really want, is to not go to college as an unmarked omega.”

A sound you had never heard him make before rumbled from him, the vibrations of it practically carrying in the air as the deep sound shot straight to your core and your whole body shivered as his face flicked with a range of emotions. It was borderline pornographic; the possessive, aroused and purely desperate noise he had made and your knees buckled under you in submission, his arm catching you around your waist and pulling you in close to him as he used his other hand to tilt your head to the side, allowing him to nip and bite along the flesh of your jaw.

Licking a wet stripe along the skin at the base of your neck, goosebumps coated your skin at the feeling and he took a deep breath, holding your gaze on his once he pulled back. Placing a sloppy and frantic kiss to your lips, he pushed you back onto the bed, crawling over you quickly and caging you in on the mattress, the tip of his nose bumping yours. “You’re my omega.”

Everything possessive in him made everything instinctual in you needy, your hips rolling up into his, your breath punched from your lungs and he met your rolls thrust for thrust, his cock hardening in his jeans, a hand on one of your thighs, lifting your leg up so he could slot himself between your legs. “Going to mark you up, make you mine so everyone knows. My pretty little omega, all mine.”

“All yours, alpha. Make me yours.”

Some kind of cross between a whimper and a groan from him was muffled by his lips on yours, and he trailed his kisses along your jaw, sucking and lapping at your skin as he went, ensuring that he was leaving hickies dotted along your flesh as he went, taking his time and holding you softly. Closing his lips around one of your nipples, your back arched up into his mouth, the rough pad of his tongue swirling over it, pleasure jolting through your body at the stimulation, one hand coming up to lace into his hair, tugging a handful into a fist.

Giving the other the same stimulation, his fingers danced over your ribs and sides as he moved down to slip his fingers under the elastic of the large sweatpants on your hips, wet kisses moving along your navel before he paused, blowing cool air streams over the shining trails left on your skin.

“You’re not wearing any panties are you?” He grumbled deep in his throat when you shook your head. “I can fucking smell you, baby, I bet you’re just dripping for me.” Placing a light at the outside of your thighs, your hips lifted for him, feet planted flat on the mattress as he peeled the fabric away, dropping them to the carpet to join your top and his already there. With a hand on each knee, he parted your thigh, inhaling deeply and kissing at the inside of each thigh, fingers massaging your flesh as he worked his way up to your dripping core. “You want my mouth, baby?”

“Yes, please.”

“Anything for you.” With that, he dragged the tip of his tongue from your entrance to your clit, sealing his lips around the bud and sucking harshly, a squeal leaving you as your back arched. He repeated the action, twice, before he was settling more comfortable on the bed, his arms wrapping around the backs of your thighs to hold you still as he lapped at the delectable taste of your juices sliding from you.

He was taking his time, teasing your entrance and occasionally dipping his tongue into you, his teeth scraping over your clit and your toes curled as he slurped and sucked, your walls squeezing around him as his fingers dug into your skin. Slipping one hand up, he pushed the pad of his tongue down on your clit, rubbing slow and delicate circles into the bud and you tugged at his hair, moans spilling from your lips as the languid stroked of his tongue sparked a fire to start curling on your stomach, a climax slowly beginning to build as your muscles began to tighten.

With a particularly harsh suck, your toes curled, a whimper leaving you, your hips rolling into his face and he picked up his speed and force, your thighs clamping around his head, his hair tickling against the skin and you could feel his sharp jaw moving quickly, before he pried your legs back open as far as he could get them, growling into your pussy as the vibrations shot along your nerves.

Raising one of your own hands to paw at your tits, you tugged on your nipples, groping at the mounds as you dragged yourself into a climax, your back leaving the bed as you rolled your hips into his face, his name leaving your lips in a mantra, body shaking and tensed as your eyes squeezed shut. He continued his ministrations, dragging your orgasm out for as long as he could, until he was pulling back with shiny marks on his chin and a filthy smirk, wiping his chin on the back of his hand before leaning over you and planting a hot and open-mouthed kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself briefly on his tongue.

“You taste fucking delicious.” He whispered the words to you, bumping your noses together and running his hands gently over your body, your own finger catching around his wrists to still his movements and he looked at you curiously, a brow raised. Leaning up, you caught his lips with your own, nibbling on his lower one and he growled, pulling back to give you a mock glare as he took your hands, pinning them to the bed above your head and chasing your mouth, your lips meeting in a rough collision. “Such a pretty girl for me, all flushed and fucked out.”

“I’m not fucked out yet, you’re taking too long.” You retorted, and he huffed, pinching at your side as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, wrapping with your own as they visible played between your quick and needy kisses, your body already building back up as he slipped a hand up to swipe at your core, chuckling at the wetness that was already building.

“I’m trying to be a good alpha and look after my beautiful omega.”

“Well, could you look after your omega by fucking me senseless until I’m screaming?” His jaw dropped, a loud and unashamed moan leaving him at your words, his eyes only getting darker as he gaped at you. Lifting a hand from where it supported him above you, he cupped your cheek, his thumb tugging down your lower lip from a second as he licked at his own and thought about his actions.

“Since when did you have such a filthy fucking mouth on you, sweetheart?” You grinned, shifting just enough to suck the digit between your lips, a breathy sigh leaving him as you swirled your tongue around the pad, sucking lightly and grazing his finger with your teeth, winking at him and his eyes glazed over and went half-lidded as your actions. “I thought you were cute and innocent, huh?”

“I could be dirty just for you.”

“You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart.” He mumbled, and you raised a brow, taking one of your hands from the spot he pinned them too and dragging your nails across his torso lightly, before cupping at the prominent bulge in his jeans and squeezing tightly, his hips bucking down onto your palm.

“I think I have a pretty good idea.” You teased, and he grinned, kissing you quickly before rocking back to kneel between your legs, popping the button on his jeans and tearing the zipper down.

“Tell me how you want it, baby. Tell me what you want from your alpha.” Standing up, he dropped the denim, palming at himself through the black cotton of his boxer-briefs and kicking the restraining material from around his ankles.

“I want it hard, and rough. I want you to fuck me so good that I’m seeing stars, and so I know nobody will ever be as good as you. I want you to mark me, make me yours.” He bit on his lower lip, dropping his boxers and stroking at his length, wandering across the room to snatch a condom from the top drawer of his desk. Tearing the top of the packet open with his teeth, he rolled the rubber along his impressive shaft, his cock bouncing in its stiff position as he made his way over to you.

“Nobody will ever get to know, because you’re all mine, for the rest of your life. You’re mine, baby, my omega.” Rolling his body back over yours, your arms looped around his neck, a quick peck being pressed to your lips before he lined himself up, sinking into you quickly and his jaw dropped as your wet warmth encased him, his thick cock stretching you out deliciously. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

“I think that’s just the fact that you have a massive cock.”

His arms shook at your words, a loud laugh leaving him and he fixed you with a loving look as he settled still, the environment around you being somewhere between playful and intense, hot and still relaxed, and you’d never felt more loved. Pulling his mouth down to yours, you kissed him deeply, your walls fluttering around him as you conveyed everything you felt, a sweet noise of approval sounding on his mouth. He returned the gesture enthusiastically, before easing his hips out of you, his mouth open against yours as he gasped at the feeling of your walls trying to pull him back in.

Leaning away, he smirked at you, pushing a hand up over your body as he pressed you back into the mattress, his fingers sealing around your throat just tight enough to excite you, flexing against the column of your throat, the edges of your lips tipping up in a grin, flashing your teeth to him as he rocked his hips back into yours, joint moans leaving the two of you. The pace picked up rapidly, the fingers of his other hand clenching in the sheets as he rammed his cock into you, the breath forced from your lungs with each slam he made into you.

Your walls squeezed around him, cursed hissed out between his teeth as his jaw clenched, a whimper falling from you as you watched the man above you pound you into oblivion. His eyes were locked on yours, a thin sheen of sweat on your skin as your name fell from his lips on repeat, your back arching up and chest rubbing against his as he fucked you.

Hiking a leg up higher onto his waist, he sunk into you further, quickly dropping himself down from his palm to his forearm, his nose bumping against yours, hot breath from his pants washing over your skin and you dipped your tongue from your mouth, licking at his lips teasing and he growled, his mouth slanting over yours as he slowed his pace.

Scooping you up under your shoulder blades, he pulled you back, until he was sitting back on his heels and you were perched in his lap, his pulsing cock buried within you deeper than ever as you sat on his thighs and your hands tightening in his hair, pulling on fistfuls. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your chests pressed together tightly as slick skin slid against slick skin, and his hands gripped your hips in a bruising hold as he bounced you on his cock, your eyes rolling back. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, sweetheart. Tight and wet for me.”

Once the pace was set, your legs tightened around him, and you did your best to meet his movements, one of his hands slipping down to palm at your ass, short nails scraping over your skin. Pulling his hand back, he slapped down on your skin roughly, your hips jumping into his and you whimpered, pushing his palm smoothing over the stinging flesh and you pushed back into his hand, a breathless chuckle released against your mouth as he groped at the flesh, repeating the action as your skin burned and flushed red, the sweet sound of his name in a cry leaving you, and he moved across, kissing down your jaw.

Tipping your head back, your hair fell away from your shoulder as you exposed your neck to him, your stomach twisting when he licked over the slightly sweaty patch, scraping his teeth over the place he would mark you. The high inside of you was building, your hips rocking down into his as he assisted you. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

He swallowed thickly, slamming you down onto his cock and holding you there tightly as he bit down onto your skin, your body flashing with heat and pure bliss as you exploded around him, shaking in his arms as you came, your eyes rolling back in your head and the dull and throbbing pain of the bite mark he gave you was overruled by the feeling of pure love coursing through your body. He dropped your bed back to the mattress, an animalistic sound leaving him as he hiked your leg up onto his shoulder, loud shots and grunts spilling from him as he fucked himself into you so quickly that your eyes were rolling back and you were seeing stars.

Licking the pads of two fingers, he dropped them to your swollen clit and rubbed harshly, screams tearing from your lips as you trembled in his hold, your eyes rolled back as you came from a second time, your core flooding his cock with arousal, ecstasy flooding your veins and walls clamping around him. His body dropped down onto yours as he came, thrusting weakly into you to prolong your peaks as much as he could, your body quivering under him as you caught your breath.

Your arms wrapped around him tightly, holding his body to you despite the fact that his weight was crushing you and he made a happy sound, nuzzling into your neck and kissing over the mark on your neck, a deep sigh being let out before he pulled out of you, a groan on his lips as he got up from the bed, tying the condom off and dropping it into the bin before grabbing a handful of tissues, kneeling beside you as he wiped the stray blood from the bite mark on your shoulder.

He trailed a finger around it, a smile on his lips as he looked at you. “You have my mark.”

“Yeah, I do.” He chuckled at your words, and tipped your neck to the side so he could admire his work, and you shuffled backwards up the bed, his body following you, your head finding the pillow as you snuggled into the plush cushions happily.

“You’re perfect, absolutely perfect.” Dropping down beside you, his fingers brushed through your hair, smoothing it away behind your ears and you grinned at him, letting him adjust you carefully as he tucked the covers around you, a giggle on your lips as he fussed over you. “What are you laughing at?”

“You’re in alpha-overdrive.”

“Shut up.” He grumbled, scowling at the smile on your lips as you let him fuss over you. “I’ve been suppressing my urge to go ‘alpha-overdrive’ on you for fucking months.” He settled himself under the covers beside you, his arms wrapped tightly around you, a yawn on your lips as you nuzzled into his body.

“I wasn’t complaining, I like it.”

“Good, because I’m going to be looking after you for the rest of our goddamn lives, little omega. I’ll be the best alpha the world has ever fucking seen.” He kissed at your cheek, arm tightening around you more as the two of you laid back, bodies aching and tired but thoroughly satisfied. “So, why don’t you tell me all about those college dorms, hm?”

“You’re going to absolutely love them.”

777 notes · View notes

15-dogs · 4 years ago

Text

chapter 2 - burning pile

pairing: fred weasley x reader

series masterlist

summary: your son asks you a tough question about his father, causing you to reflect on the exact moment you decided what you were going to tell him

warnings: children, the war, mentions of death, getting disowned, description of broken limbs, very light swearing, pregnancy mention

guide: (Y/N) = your name, (Y/L/N) = your last name

word count: 2.4K

a/n: if your url is crossed out that means i couldn’t tag you! if you want to be added to my taglist for this, either comment or send an ask :) hope you like it!!

●chapter 2●

“Everyone at school has one,” your son stated, “how come I don’t have a dad?”

You clenched your eyes shut. You knew this was coming at some point, but 8 years old seemed far too soon. You smiled softly at your son, Daniel, as you patted your lap. He clambered onto you and you ran your hand through his fiery red hair, wondering how you could explain something so broken to someone so young.

●●●

You ran into the war alone. You were part of no affiliation, no friends by your side, you only knew who you were fighting for.

Your son, nearly 2 years old at the time, was at your muggle neighbor’s flat. You couldn’t bring him to your muggle parents, not when they disowned you for finding out about your accidental pregnancy.

That’s why you were fighting. For him. For Danny. He needed to grow up in a world where blood status didn’t matter, where he didn’t need to be concerned about having a future or not. For Danny. You had to repeat it to yourself over and over again. For Danny. For Danny.

The war, like wars often were, was ugly. Rubble coating the grounds and bodies peeking out from under it. Being at such a broken place that was once filled with hope and joy was like seeing a photo go black and white.

You did your best to assist where you could, seeing people you went to school with falling lifeless onto the ground. They had families, they had parents that loved them. That was somebody’s child who was chasing death, and you were not about to let them get caught. You would jump in just in time to save them, feeling that was your best bet at contributing to the cause.

So you wandered the halls of the castle, seeking trouble. But, as it always does, trouble seems to find you. A Death Eater appeared from behind one of the many staircases, firing a spell at you. You barely dodged it, slipping behind a pillar, your heart pounding in your ears. You imagined what it would be like to have someone beside you but you couldn’t dwell, you were facing life and death.

You readied your wand before popping out from your hiding spot, firing a stunning spell at the man. He blocked it, but it sent him skyrocketing backwards into another hallway.

You had just found your target, there was no way you’d let him escape. You charged after where you had left him, only to find him missing. Your eyes locked onto a trail of blood that dotted from where you stood to a hallway, which just so happened to have sparks flying from it.

You rounded the corner to see two redheads battling two Death Eaters, your feet bolting to the ground.

It was Fred.

He was laughing at something Percy had said as they battled the men. He looked so...grown up. It had only been 2 years since you last saw him, but he looked different. He seemed genuinely happy.

But it wasn’t the time to focus on such trivial things, not when the Death Eater you were battling was sneaking up on Fred. Both men were unaware of the cloaked person sneaking up on them, so you decided you needed to take action.

Fred was Molly’s son. If she lost him, she’d be devastated, broken beyond repair. You knew what it was like to have a child, and if you lost him, you didn’t know what you’d do. Danny was all you had and Merlin forbid anyone were to take him away from you.

As those thoughts coursed through your mind, adrenaline coursed through your veins. You watched as the Death Eater you were tracking snuck up on Fred and Percy, your wand readied as you waited with bated breath for the two to move out of the way. However, as the man approached, the brothers didn’t move. Your whole body was itching with anxieties, your eyes flickering towards the shadows. But as the man raised his wand, you couldn’t wait any longer; there were human lives at stake, one of which just happened to be your ex boyfriend.

“Fred, Percy! Get down!” you shouted as you revealed yourself from your hiding space.

The Death Eater was distracted by your declaration, pausing in his mission to cast the spell. Fred, too, was distracted by your presence, leading to Percy dragging him onto the ground alongside himself. As soon as they were clear, you shot a spell at a pillar beside the man, the cracked tiles crashing down on his legs, trapping him underneath. He let out a shrill cry of pain, his face contorting into something awful that made you almost sorry for him. However, you didn’t want to take the risk that he was the devil in disguise, putting on an act just to garner sympathy from you.

“Stupefy!” you cried, freezing the man in his place.

As soon as the area was clear, you pocketed your wand and ran to the Weasley brothers. You slid onto the ground beside Percy, helping him up.

“Lovely to see you again, (Y/N),” he commented.

You cringed but put on your best smile. “Been a long time, Percy.”

You recalled the last time you’d seen the stern boy, the one time that Fred took you home for the holidays. His family had welcomed you in open arms and made you quite jealous; your family wasn’t so affectionate.

When you got kicked out of your own house at 18, you weren’t really shocked. Your mother had never truly approved of you and Fred so she had been expecting something of that “sinful nature” for years now.

When she had kicked you out, you couldn’t even gather most of your things as you found her burning them in the backyard in an old fire pit. You were only slightly shocked that time. Your mother had a saying: put all your troubles on a burning pile because when it’s all lit up, you’ll start to smile. That saying, of course, wasn’t true, nor did you think she took the meaning literally. When you walked outside to speak with her one last time— a regretful decision, you knew— her tears were illuminated on her cheeks from the flames that kissed her.

“You look good, seeing as how you helped Fred and I narrowly escape death, so thanks again for that.” Percy glanced down at Fred, kicking him with his foot. “Suppose you want to hear it from him, too.”

You half expected Fred to say something smart or, at the very least, notice that it was you who saved his life but he didn’t say anything. Come to think of it, he didn’t even move.

Your heart stopped beating in your chest. You fell to your knees, hovering over Fred’s lifeless body. No, no! You were supposed to be saving him! What did you do?

“Oh, Merlin,” whispered Percy, his pale skin turning even paler. He, too, sank to his knees, shaking Fred’s body. “Oh, shit. Fred! This isn’t funny! Wake up, please!”

As a parent, you had to be aware of your surroundings at all times. Danny was rarely out of your sight, and if he ever got hurt you knew the play by play of what happened. That little skill came in great use as you stared at Fred’s body in the patch of rubble.

“He wasn’t hit,” you assured Percy, “this is shock.” You held your middle and pointer fingers close together, pressing them under his jaw in search of his pulse. As soon as you felt the soft beating against the pads of your fingers, you let out a happy gasp.

“What is it? What are you doing?” Percy scrambled to replicate your actions, pushing your hand aside and replacing it with his.

“That’s his heartbeat. It’s faint but it’s there. We need to take him to the Great Hall so he can get patched up.”

Percy let out a relieved sigh, tears falling down his cheeks carelessly. With the sparks that were being shot from outside the castle, it illuminated his face just right so that it reminded you of your mother. In his hands was Fred— your problem— and the glaring reality became apparent that you desperately wanted to run away from it.

With the wards down at Hogwarts, you could apparate inside the castle. Unable to pick Fred up, you and Percy pushed him up against a wall, his head drooping onto his chest and back slouched.

“I’ll meet you in the Great Hall, if that’s okay?” Percy asked. You frowned. “I want to check on George, he’s been missing for a bit.”

“Yeah, go check on your brother, I can take care of Fred.” The words left a sour taste in your mouth but you couldn’t help but feel a familiar sense of warmth blossom in your chest as his name rolled off your tongue.

You reluctantly slid up next to him and slung his arm around your shoulder before apparating away. When you arrived in the Great Hall, nobody even realized you were there. You let Fred rest against a wall while you tracked down Pomfrey, who was hurriedly mixing some salve together, an unpleasant earthy aroma drifting your way.

“Madam Pomfrey, Madam Pomfrey!” You waved your hand wildly in the air, the color draining from her face at the sight of Fred behind you.

“Oh, Godric.” The words escaped her lips like a dying man’s last breath as she ran up to you two.

You took her wrist and ducked to meet her eyes, shaking your head. “He’s not dead, he’s just unconscious.”

Pomfrey gripped at her apron as she let out a shaky sigh. She lifted her head up to the sky, hoping that Merlin himself would dry her eyes. Once she had regained composure, she chuckled slightly at the insanity of the situation.

“Unconscious,” she repeated, pointing at you, “that’s something I can fix. Help me get him to that cot right there, dear.”

You nodded and helped Pomfrey drag him to the sheet on the ground right beside you. She rifled through her apron, the many pockets holding vials of wonders.

“I haven’t seen you in quite some time, Miss (Y/L/N),” Pomfrey noted. She paused, her eyes flickering up at you for just a moment. “Or is it missus, now?”

You flexed your hand in silent rage— you hated those questions. “No, I’m not married, but I appreciate your concern.”

Pomfrey frowned slightly, her eyes moving down towards your stomach before drifting back towards her pockets. She whispered a quiet “aha!” and pulled a long tube full of amber liquid out, uncorking and pouring it into Fred’s limp mouth.

You sank onto the floor beside Fred, resting your back against the wall. Pomfrey looked at you like a mother staring at a lost child. You finally met her gaze, brows knit together.

“How’s your kid?” she asked.

Your eyes flitted to Fred; he was still asleep. “He’s good. He’s safe. Staying with a muggle neighbor at her flat for the time being.”

“He?”

“Yeah, Daniel— Danny. He hates when I call him Daniel.”

A reluctant grin tugged at the corners of your lips. You reached into your pocket, pulling out a wallet-sized, moving photo of you and your son. He was a small boy with fiery ginger hair and loads of freckles covering his face. You spun him around before shrugging him onto your back, him hiding his laughter into your hair.

Pomfrey snorted. She glanced between the photo in her delicate hands, the sleeping boy beside you, and your sunken eyes. “He takes after his father.”

You pocketed the photo, scoffing. “He doesn’t need to know that.”

“Mr. Weasley or Danny?”

“Both.”

Pomfrey shook her head but not truly disapproving of you. You avoided her stare and your eyes happened to get caught on a person waving, causing Pomfrey to turn around as well. She nodded, understanding that they were beckoning her. “Would you stay here with him? I need to care for some others.”

“Won’t be a problem.”

She nodded a quick thanks before scurrying off to the other side of the Great Hall.

And then you were alone with Fred.

Your eyes roved over his body, mentally taking pictures of how he changed. No matter how hard you tried, the images of Fred the night before he left were seared in your mind. He looked different, like he’d seen things he never intended to. His eyes had a slight depth to them and his skin coarse with dirt.

You didn’t really mean to, but your heart has a funny way of dictating things. You reached your hand out, linking your pinky with his. As soon as you touched, you felt a spark in your chest. No sooner did you touch him than you jumped away.

Your mother might have been right. Problems need to be thrown away because there was no other way that you’d escape them. You needed not to feel such a thing— you were supposed to hate Fred— but a simple touch disproved that.

You spotted every member of the Weasley family at the other end of the hall, their eyes scanning the room for Fred. You looked down at your ex, a sense of sympathy tugging at your heart as you slipped out of the Great Hall unnoticed, leaving Fred to be in the care of people who actually loved him, or at least could admit it.

You needed to burn every memory, every thought, every feeling that was Fred Weasley. Because if you didn’t burn them, he’d be the death of you.

●●●

“It’s rare, Danny,” you began, dotting every freckle that lined his arms, “but some people just don’t have dads. They weren’t born with them.”

“But Ethan has a dad and he also only lives with his mum!”

He yanked his arm away from you, an oncoming tantrum arriving. You sighed, tugging him closer to you and brushing his unruly hair with your fingers.

“But we’re special,” you whispered, “some people don’t have dads because they don’t need them.”

His displaced anger mellowed, his wide, amber eyes staring up at you, full of hope. “So we don’t need a dad?”

“No, we don’t need a dad, so we don’t have one.”

You never thought that you could do it, but you had; you had erased Fred Weasley from your life. It was then you knew that your mother was right: seeing everything you had with him burn into ashes really did make you smile.

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

taglist: @whiz-bangs78 @the-romanian-is-bae @witch-and-a-half @pineapplesandpinas @bellaiscool @gsvshsjsbs

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strange-lace · 4 years ago

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Concert State of Consciousness

IT’S FINALLY DONE! I HAVE NOW MADE A FANFIC FOR THIS ROLESWAP AU! I didn’t expect this damn thing to get this long but here I am, once again! Kind of happy with how everyone’s characterized, though Demon Kid ended up a bit more sinister than I intended. I definitely had fun writing the dynamic between Mei and Green though.

Hope y’all like it!

To say the city was abuzz with excitement would be an understatement.

For the past couple of months, the name DJ Horns has been spoken with increasing interest as his music suddenly began to be played on the radio constantly. And most people wouldn’t deny that it was good, electronic yet incredibly varied depending on the song. But what interested people the most about the musician was how mysterious he was, active on social media and yet nobody knew his face and only the barest of personal details. Even his voice was a matter of debate with him using a voice synthesizer even when talking normally on his social media.

It was the perfect storm to allow DJ Horns fanbase to start from nothing to practically explode over time.

And the same musician had just announced that he would be doing a live concert right at the heart of the city, even playing “secret tracks” that he had yet to let anyone hear until now.

People were practically fighting to get themselves tickets, Mei herself included that chaos. She had been swept up in the excitement of DJ horns since the very beginning and was willing to do whatever she had to get tickets for her and Green to that concert.

Leading her to the unfortunate situation she was in now. Kicked out of the ticket venue and by the time the ban would be lifted, she knew all the concert tickets would be sold out. Oh and Green had to bail her out from getting in trouble with the security guys.

“I don’t get what the big deal was, everyone was fighting dirty to get first pick at those tickets!” Even with his shades, she could tell that Green was rolling his eyes at her.

“Oh gee, I don’t know Mei. Maybe it’s because you nearly tore a guy’s hair out!”

“That’s what he gets for trying to say I was only a fan to get the attention of other guys! Now I’m gonna miss the concert of a lifetime,” Mei groaned, a pout on her lips. Green’s scowl of disappointment softened as they walked into Pigsy’s Noodles, starting to feel bad. It’s not like the guy wasn’t being a jerk after all.

“I suppose I could see about pulling some strings to get us some decent seats, if it means that much-” He was cut off by a crushing hug from Mei, who easily lifted Green off of his feet and began to twirl them both around in sheer jubilation.

“You’d do that for me?! Thank you so much Green, you’re the absolute best!”

“Yes, yes, your appreciation is very evident now please put me down before you crush my rib cage,” he wheezed, letting in a deep gulp of air once he was freed. Mei appeared sheepish at the unintentional show of strength. “As I was saying, there’s probably a couple scalpers I could cough two tickets out of without much trouble.”

“I still question how you have the money to just do stuff like that casually, make hundreds of gadgets, and build our secret base.”

“You have your mysterious ways and I have mine Mei.” Before Mei could question further, Pigsy voice interrupted them both, looking a fair bit of a mess.

“There you are kid, we got a mountain of orders for you to deliver! Oh, and this came for you and Green in mail while you were gone, no return address though weirdly enough,” he said, shoving a load of noodle orders in Mei’s arms alongside two unmarked envelopes: one orange and the other green. The sound of something crashing in the kitchen tore Pigsy’s attention away, causing him to let out a string of curses as he went back into what sounded like chaos.

Green took the envelopes off Mei’s hands while she struggled with balancing all the orders in her arms, studying them with interest. Upon closer inspection, each envelope simply had “To My Heroes” scrawled on the front in elegant writing and sealed with a black wax seal on the back. He found himself impressed at all the sheer amount of effort put in.

“Fancy,” he commented before gently opening the green envelope. His eyes widened at what he found inside. “Looks like I won’t need to pay any scalpers for tickets.”

“Wait what do you mean? Gimme that!” Mei said, putting the orders down on the table to snatch the orange envelope and tear into it with desperate ferocity. There were practically stars once she took in what was inside: front row tickets to the DJ Horns concert and even VIP passes.

The windows of the restaurant rattled the slightest bit as the sheer force of her screams of joy.

Green didn’t even flinch as his ears were assaulted, used to this level of volume, while unfortunate bystanders winced in pain or jumped in surprise. He found a handwritten behind the ticket in his own envelope and curiosity getting the better of him, began to read it.

“As a token of thanks for always keeping this city safe, here’s free front row tickets on me! Can’t wait to see you both tonight in front of the crowd! ♡♡♡

- DJ Horns”

“How… suspiciously generous of him,” Green drawled, an eyebrow raised at such a note.

“What’s suspicious about it? We do save the city a lot and somebody’s just showing their appreciation for it! I see no problem with it,” Mei argued, pausing in her celebrations, which involved her doing a handstand on one of the stools and didn’t even seem bothered holding the position.

“Mei, this implies that he hand delivered these here without anybody noticing. Why go through all that effort to be sneaky?” It just didn’t sit right in the pit of his stomach, something smelled rotten about this to him.

“Because he’s a mega famous celebrity, he’s probably worried that making a big deal out of us giving these could make people upset or something.” It made sense to Mei, who wouldn’t free tickets from their favorite music artist and be upset that someone else was given that opportunity? She did a small flip from the stool to land next to Green, wrapping her arm around his shoulders until they were close enough that their cheeks were squished together. Despite the closeness, Green looked more uncomfortable about being tugged down to Mei’s height than anything else. That and how blinding her smile was.

“C’mon Green, I get the skepticism but it’s just a concert. One night where we can be normal teens enjoying the fruits of our labor in protecting this place, what’s so bad about that? Plus, it’ll be fun! So how about it?” Mei said, almost sounding desperate. Green remained silent for a moment before letting out a defeated sigh, only giving her a tired smile as he returned the one armed hug.

“Oh alright, you win. I suppose a break sounds nice right about now considering how things went with Demon Kid last time. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?” He conceded, willing to let his suspicion aside for a night of just not having to worry about anything but having a good time and enjoying music. Especially after yesterday, Green was still amazed that the demon managed to make something like perfume into a weapon of mass annoyance.

“That’s the spirit! This is gonna be the night of our lives!”

At least that’s what she thought, until her trinkets were literally snatched out of her hands.

“After you finish your deliveries for the night kid,” Pigsy interrupted, looking a lot more put together now that whatever disaster that had been happening in the kitchen was under control. Excluding the number of stains on his apron that weren’t there before of course. It took Mei a moment to process that her precious tickets weren’t in her hands and she was quick to bring out the puppy dog eyes.

“But- but Pigsy-” Pigsy showed no sign of giving in, having years to build a resistance to all of Mei’s tricks.

“I’m sorry Mei, but we’re way too swamped to let you run off with no one to do all these deliveries. Once you have all the deliveries done, you can have these back. But only after, so you better get started,” he stated, leaving no room for argument. And even if Mei tried, the smell of something burning had Pigsy back in the kitchen just like that with even more fervent curses, this time with her tickets tucked into the pockets of his apron.

Mei let out a groan and smacked her forehead against the countertop in despair. Green merely patted her back in sympathy to her plight.

“There’s no way I’m gonna make all those deliveries and not miss like half of the concert! Unless…”

Oh no, he recognized that look in her eyes anywhere.

“Mei, no. I know exactly what you’re thinking and I’m telling you right now, no. No music is worth facing Pigsy’s wrath if he finds out you skipped out on work for a concert. Which is what exactly will happen, he always finds out,” Green warned her, even taking off his sunglasses to look her dead in the eyes to get his point across. Mei winced at that, remembering what had happened last time she tried to skimp on work.

The power of Pigsy’s “I’m not mad, just disappointed” is something even DBK should fear.

“Look, I’ll record whatever you miss if I don’t see you by the time it starts. Might not be the same but it’s better than nothing.” That offer seemed to perk Mei up from her bout of disappointment, hopeful eyes peeking through her thick hair bangs.

“Promise?”

“I promise. But if you don’t want to miss the whole thing, you’d better do what Pigsy says and get started on the deliveries. Especially since I think that pile has grown since we got here,” Green said, pointing to the small mountain of orders which indeed had gotten bigger since passed off to her. This time, he was more prepared for the bone crushing embrace which came his way and thankfully had his arms free enough to return it.

“Thanks Green, you’re the best! Hopefully I’ll see you there before it all starts!” And just like that, Mei was off like a whirlwind with all the noodle orders in her arms. She excitedly loaded them into the shop’s delivery cart and drove off with a strong stomp in the gas pedal, the cart’s tires squealing in distress before driving off.

With a weary sigh, Green took his leave as well though he couldn’t stop looking at the ticket and note in his hands.

Even with Mei’s assurances, something about the situation still did not sit right with him.

“For once, please let me be wrong,” Green whispered to himself, not noticing a suspiciously familiar monkey-shaped marionette creature eagerly watching him from the rooftops above. On the other side of the puppet’s eyes, her creator couldn’t help the manic grin off of his face as the pieces started to fall into place for his plan.

Green had to admit that he was expecting this many people packed into the area when he rolled up to the concert gates on his motorcycle, Mei still nowhere in sight. Though he certainly made sure to update him on how the deliveries were going.

A familiar ding sound on his phone made him pause, giving an exasperated smile at seeing another text from Mei.

“WHY ARE SO MANY PEOPLE ORDERING NOODLES TONIGHT??? got done w 3/4 of the orders, if i hurry i should be there before opening act’s done. if anybody tries to steal my seat, i give you permission to use lethal force. don’t let me down! <3”

“Maybe if you didn’t send me so many texts, you’d be getting the deliveries done faster Mei,” Green mumbled to himself fondly as he climbed off his bike, blissfully unaware of the stares being sent his way. As usual, his hair was a mess of black and pale green spikes as he pulled off his helmet and he let out a soft huff, attempting to put order to the mane that was his hair as he made his way inside.

Green let out a low whistle, impressed as he walked further in to discover the place was decorated head to toe with fluorescent neon lights, state of the art music equipment, and a giant disco ball hanging from the ceiling which added another layer of glitz. It was almost disorientating, the onslaught of neon colors, lights, and music from all sides but in a way that was also exhilarating. The harsh glow of red, orange, and purple was a bit much for Green but at the same time it filled him with a sense of giddiness that made him begin to understand Mei’s desperation to be here.

His heart did a slight leap of excitement once he found his seat. It was one thing to read he had a front row seat and another thing entirely to see how close he was to the stage. And a completely separate thing to see a note on the seat, scrawled with a familiar extravagant writing which welcomed him and Mei with hopes that they would enjoy the show.

All too soon, all the lights went out and Green could feel his breath pause before they returned with full force alongside familiar music which seemed to make the entire room pulsate with its vibrations. Multiple spotlights shined on the stage and the crowd went wild with cheering as DJ Horns finally showed, looking just as bombastic as his set up.

He wore an ornate metallic helmet decorated with large horns that protruded from the forehead which shined a rainbow of colors under the neon lights. A dark fur lined coat was draped over his shoulders with a matching suit underneath and metal lined gloves on his hands. Overall, he looked like quite a character to Green though there was niggling in the back of his head that this should be someone that he could recognize. The grip on the arms of his seat tightened.

His eyes took in the still empty seat to his right and he began to gnaw his lip in worry.

“Where are you Mei?” Green asked himself before the synthesized voice of DJ Horns interrupted his thoughts.

“What is up everybody? You all ready for the show of a lifetime?!” A loud cacophonous roar of cheers answered him, which he soaked in without a hint of shame in his posture. “That’s what I like to hear! And we have some very special guests tonight right in the front row, the Monkie Kid herself and her partner, the Green Dragon!”

Green couldn’t help the flinch when a spotlight suddenly shined down on him, leaving him feeling exposed to hundreds upon thousands of eyes which zeroed in on him the vacant seat next to him. Yet he still forced on a smile which was more teeth than anything else, not quite appreciating being put on the spot like this. The musician’s shoulders seemed to tense in disappointment once he also noticed being down one of his special guests, yet he was quick to shake it off.

“Seems it’s more like one special guest, but no matter! We’re still going to make this a night that the city itself won’t ever forget! The first and unfortunately, only, live concert by the one and only DJ Horns!” He was met with gasps of surprise and even a couple cries of despair at this bombshell. “I know, I know! But there’s a reason for this, my dear fans. Because after tonight, you’ll all know the man behind the mask and I’m sure you’ve all been dying to know who it is. Am right?!” DJ Horns teased, hands reaching for his helmet.

The manic energy of the entire building seemed to escalate to almost out of control levels at that announcement, people scrambling for their phones to get the chance of capturing his face before anyone else. Green would have been among them if that uneasy feeling hadn’t begun to grow into full on paranoia, as if his very being could sense that the other shoe was about to drop. He was so tense that Green felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong,” he chanted to himself, his grip tightening to an unbearable degree as DJ Horns finally pulled off his helmet.

Unfortunately for him and everyone else, he wasn’t wrong.

His heart practically stopped as his eyes were welcomed by an unfortunately familiar face: spiked brown hair held up by a golden circlet styled like horns, dark eyes framed in orange and red pigment, and a fanged grin that promised nothing but trouble.

Demon Kid.

And his grin only became larger once he took in the shocked silence, particularly Green’s horror ridden face. He looked extremely pleased with himself as he took advantage of everyone struggling to process what was going on to prepare for the final phase of his plan.

And would it be a sweet victory for him.

“Oh, I’m going to treasure that look on your face for the rest of my life, Dragon Boy. It’s certainly a shame that the Noodle Girl couldn’t join in on the party but, eh, she’ll come eventually.” Green had finally overcome his horror, sword in his hands and making a mad dash towards Demon Kid on the stage. Yet the demon remained unaffected as he put on the finishing touches. “Because by the time I’m done, everyone in this whole city will be dancing for my king like my puppets. Starting with all you!”

And with that, Demon Kid put the volume at max and blasted the entire building with his music. The sheer force of the sound sent Green flying back, crashing into now abandoned seats as people attempted to escape. However, to their horror, all the doors were locked and barricaded. Leaving them trapped and at the mercy of the music assaulting their ears from all sides and one by one, civilians fell to the floor as they tried their hardest to muffle the noise. Yet as if a sentient force, the melody managed to slither its way in and overwhelmed people’s senses like a tidal wave with one simple but overpowering command.

And that command was to obey.

Green climbed to his feet in a daze, struggling to focus with the sheer volume and the strange whispering that seemed to be coming from nowhere and everywhere. And already Green could feel his mental walls crumbling, he wasn’t going to last long before he succumbed to the strange power.

Mei.

He had to warn Mei.

He scrambled for his phone, barely able to take him the most recent message from Mei stating she was heading back to get her ticket back from Pigsy. Clumsy fingers fumbled to type out a warning and relief flooded his nerves once the message was sent.

And just in time as Green found himself being dogpiled by multiple people, their eyes glowing a hollow and ominous red. He struggled yet the mental strain of fighting to keep control left him weak and vulnerable, sword just out of his reach. Impish chuckling invaded his ears and before he knew it, Demon Kid was right there. And while the demon typically only had a couple inches on Green, now he downright loomed over him and radiating smugness.

“Still fighting huh Dragon Boy? Almost impressive! But there’s no point in fighting anymore, the spell will wear you down one way or another. So save your energy, you’ll need it when you and Noodle Girl help me conquer this city in the name of my king. It’ll be awesome, just you wait!” The childlike giddiness would almost be endearing if Green wasn’t fighting a mental battle that he had no chance in winning, not against this kind of magic.

“Mei’ll stop you, she always does,” he grit out, eyes already taking on a faint red glow.

“Oh I wouldn’t be so sure of that, after all I’d like to see her fight against her best friend when he’s under my control. But that’s not for you to worry about. Now, give in Dragon Boy,” Demon Kid commanded and like that, Green found himself being pulled under into a strange haze, only able to think of obeying the commands of his puppetmaster. The demon couldn’t help the joyous laugh as he watched Green’s eyes become red much like the rest of his little army.

Mei had been driving like a madwoman towards the concert the moment she read Green’s text.

“it’s demon kid using spell to hypnotize people don’t have time can already feel control slipping need to destroy his set up and stop the music before he gets city”

“I swear if he’s hurt Green, I will make him wish he stuck with making music,” she hissed to herself before letting out a growl at another red light slowing her down. “To hell with this.” Mei summoned the staff, slamming one end against the street and keeping a tight grip as the staff extended, sending her and the cart sailing above the streets below.

Mei barely flinched at the rough landing in front of the building, only feeling a flash of guilt at the state of the cart. She could pay Pigsy back for the damages later. Staff held tight in her grip and headphones on to buy herself time, Mei was ready for anything. And upon taking notice that all the doors appeared to be either locked or blocked, she did the next best thing to get inside.

Pole vault and smash her way through a window, miraculously not cutting herself on the glass.

She tumbled forward upon landing and took in the scene before her.

Her headphones certainly didn’t stop her from feeling the bass practically rock the foundation of the place yet what Mei found more worrisome were the people. Instead of rushing to attack her, they were all dancing to the beat of the song and looked almost perfectly normal. Except they were all too in sync and choreographed, as if Mei found herself in a music video than anything else. A shiver traveled down her spine as they all seemed to be watching her yet gave her a wide berth to catch sight of the stage.

Her blood boiled at the sight of Demon Kid, perched at his station but wiggling about showing he was barely able to sit still in anticipation.

“There you are, you had me waiting forever for you to get here!” He exclaimed, almost happy to see Mei before he caught himself and schooled his expression back to a businesslike indifference. “Not that it matters, you’ll be joining the Dragon Boy soon enough and we can start taking over this city!”

“Not while I have these headphones on, asshole!” Mei screamed over the music before rushing towards the stage, ready to smash Demon Kid’s equipment to pieces. It was only out of a vague sense of danger which flared in the back of her head and dodging at the right time that she managed to evade being skewered in the side by a sword.

The sight of Green, eyes lifeless red and moving around as if a stiff marionette being led around on strings, was definitely one that Mei was going to see in her nightmares for who knows how long.

Leaping to dodge another swipe of Green’s sword, Demon Kid’s cackle seemed to echo in sync with the music.

“Well then we’ll just have to rip those headphones off your pretty head ourselves! Minions, if you please!” Following the demon’s command, the hypnotized civilians stopped their dancing and attacked.

And Mei soon found herself swarmed and being attacked on all sides. It soon became more of a deadly game of tag, keeping herself out of the reach of her countless pursuers and evading Green’s relentless attacks. She was running out of time and space, she needed to think of a plan.

Fast.

Her eyes soon caught sight of the stage lighting above Demon Kid’s set and it was as if a lightbulb went off in her head.

It was risky and she only had one shot.

But Mei was always one for risk.

With a quick change in direction, Mei dashed towards the center of the swarm and just before she was pulled in, she took aim and threw the staff towards the stage lights. She could only be left to hope that she didn’t miss as a hand grabbed her ankle, only to be face to face with Green. His blank face now alight with a victorious grin before they were left tumbling along the floor in a desperate bid to grab one another.

Mei grunted as she found herself pinned down by Green, the neon lights causing his sword to gleam with menace as he held the tip to her throat. His other hand ripped off her headphones without mercy and her own ears were overwhelmed by the music.

“C’mon staff, don’t let me down,” she said, doing her best to fight as the spell soon attempted to creep its way in her head too.

“Well done, my dear puppet,” Demon Kid congratulated Green, pride practically emanating from his being. “Any last words, Noodle Girl?” His victory was practically guaranteed now and he couldn’t wait to see the look on his king’s face.

Which only made the demon confused at the sight of Mei’s smirk, her eyes focused upwards.

“Yeah. Might want to look above.”

“What?” Demon Kid did so and his heart stuttered at the sight of the spinning staff pinballing across the walls before colliding with the heavy duty wires which held the stage lights.

And cut through them without ease.

Without any suspension, the stage light rig surrendered to the forces of gravity. Demon Kid hurriedly dived off the stage to save himself, narrowly missed being squished by the rig. Unfortunately, his music equipment was not granted the same luck and was crushed in a shower of sparks, cutting off the music.

Blissful silence took over the area and Mei let out a sigh of relief as the sensation of something prying at her mind vanished like mist. And she couldn’t help a smile as the red vanished from Green’s eyes, signifying the end of Demon Kid’s control on him. He let out a groan, crawling back to consciousness as if waking up from the world’s worst nap, before realizing where he was.

“Mei? What happened? Are you okay?” Green was quick to get off Mei and help her back to her feet. She simply gave him a hug, content to see him safe and sound now. He accepted the hug without complaint, feeling less like he was struggling to gather his ability for free will again after having it ripped away. They were quick to break away as flames licked at their backs and they were faced with Demon Kid, his hair now flames as he took in his now ruined DJ equipment.

The duo took fighting stances, only for the demon to take a deep breath and have his hair to return to normal.

“Well, looks like you both got me beat this time. Here I thought I had it all in the bag but then you pulled that off-the-wall solution out of nowhere! And I admit, it looked cool as hell! I’ll give you two this win, here’s a little something for it,” Demon Kid said before tossing a bundle their way, which Mei caught with a look of caution from Green before they unwrapped it. To their mutual surprise, it was two letterman jackets emblazoned with the DJ Horns logo on the back and sleeves.

Before they could question him on this, Demon Kid gave the two a cheeky week before vanishing in a whirlwind of fire and smoke.

After a moment of stunned silence, Mei wordlessly took one of the jackets and put it on.

“After all that, you’re still willing to wear anything associated with DJ Horns?”

“Hey, this is merch I’ve never seen before and you gotta admit, we’d make this look good.” She even struck a pose to prove her point.

With a resigned groan, Green followed suit by putting on the other jacket and silently agreed that the jackets did make them look pretty good.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #mei #mk #red son #roleswap au #traffic light trio #fanfiction #my writing

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jalapeno-princess · 4 years ago

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Bad For You Chapter 2

Fuckboy Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst (tiny bits of fluff if you look hard enough) and a lot of swearing

Word Count: 8.8K

“Will you stop that?”

The loud clicking of Mark’s pen was getting on your nerves. You’ve been tutoring him for over a week now and you’d be lying if you said your study sessions were a breath of fresh air.

He followed your instructions from the day you agreed to tutoring him and surprisingly showed up to the library before you did. In the first two days of helping him complete assignments, he gave you such a hard time.

It first started off with snarky remarks about how you weren’t “living your best life” and that one day, you would look back on your college years; regretting spending most of your time with your face buried in books and wishing you got more involved in exciting events like the ones he normally would attend.

You learned how to develop a large amount of patience when working alongside the older boy; all his sarcastic comments and failed attempts to flirt with you—which you assumed was his way to get under your skin—seemingly constantly got on your nerves.

However, on the third day, his whole demeanor and the way he was treating you; as if you weren’t doing him the biggest favor in making sure that he passed all of his classes with flying colors, took a 360 degree turn. It’s as if his cockiness and narcissism disappeared in the snap of a finger; like he had an on and off switch because he knew that you would drop him as soon as you felt like he wasn’t taking your assistance seriously. You found it extremely shocking just how much of a fast learner he was.

Matter of a fact, it was as if he already knew most of the material—so you just assumed he lacked motivation. Mark was extremely intelligent and you had a hard time understanding why his grades lacked to show just how smart he really was. He claimed that he was afraid of failing, yet that decision was all up to him.

If only he put in as much effort in to his education as he did with his friends and the many parties they would throw, then maybe he wouldn’t be moments away from flunking his junior year of college. You tried your best to stay away from him; you made it very clear to Mark on the first day that you were only there to help him with his homework.

Before your first session started, you made sure to inform him that you had a list of rules that he needed to follow if he wanted to continue receiving your support with his studies. Nobody was to know about your meetups; the last thing you wanted was to be the talk of your university.

Being seen with Mark—whether or not people knew the reason why the two of you were spending time together—would definitely get you in to some kind of trouble and unlike most of your female classmates who would throw themselves at the big headed boy, you wanted no part in anything that included him.

He was also to focus solely on school. You didn’t want him talking about his personal life—nor did you want him bringing up his friends, his extracurricular activities or his past conquests in to any conversation. You were his tutor and you made it a fact to make sure he understood that’s all you were ever going to be to him.

The two of you could never be friends, nor did you see him wanting to be involved with you in any way—therefore, it worked out perfectly. So far, he did as you instructed him and thankfully, he wasn’t as much of a pain in the ass as you were expecting him to be. Maybe he was absolutely positive that if you didn’t agree to tutoring him, he stood no chance in graduating.

There were days where your mind was boggled; he showed tremendous growth in the way that he completed his assignments. Sure, the answers he would write down weren’t always correct, but at least he was trying.

You told yourself that you’d give him a week to decide whether or not he was actually serious about his education in order to continue with supporting him and surprisingly only one week in and he was working on each and every single paper or homework assigned to him. He even went back and completed missing assignments which caused you to sit back in disbelief. Who was this newly motivated person and what did he do with the snarky asshole Mark Tuan you’ve grown to loathe for quite some time now?

“Stop what?”

“Clicking your pen. You always do that. You’re distracting me. I’m trying to do my own work here.”

You didn’t have to look at him to know that he was now wearing a smirk on his stupidly handsome face. It was in the tone of his voice; cheeky and coy—there were only a few occasions where he would try and flirt with you or what you assumed was flirting, you didn’t think Mark would consider you to be someone he’d find all that attractive.

Although you barely knew anything about him, everyone and their mothers were aware that Mark Tuan had a specific type. Or well, at least all the girls he fooled around with looked similar in some way. He preferred girls on the shorter side with long, silky locks, a tiny waist and petite figure.

They were also extremely beautiful; you believed you were the complete opposite of what he considered desirable. Yet, he would throw in sexual innuendos like how he’d much rather do you than his homework. Then again, it was probably his way of trying to get a rise out of you and you were very vocal about how he was walking on thin ice the longer he continued to joke around with you.

None of that mattered though; you’ve made yourself immune to his many antics and if ever his words did have an effect on you, you’d remind yourself that it was only the cause of any kind of male attention since you weren’t used to talking to guys for longer than needed to.

“Oh, so you pay attention to my mannerisms? That’s sexy—“

You scoffed at his assumption. This was definitely going to be a long day. It’s only been fifteen minutes and you were so close to slamming your head against your textbook in aggravation.

“Shut up Tuan. It’s a pet peeve of mine and highly annoying, of course I caught on to it. How far are you in to your abstract?”

He sent you a smirk and you were quick to avoid his gaze; taking his computer as he handed it over to you. You began to skim through the paragraphs—after observing him in the last week, you weren’t all that shocked with the fact that he actually did a good job. This abstract was for his biology class; he had to come up with a project that had to do with saving the earth and Mark decided to do his on biodegradable plastic.

“I’m not going to lie, you did a pretty good job. But this is just the abstract, I expect a lot more effort when you start working on your actual research.”

He hummed in agreement before taking back his laptop and typed away at the keys. The two of you sat in silence, but for the first time it was peaceful. It wasn’t awkward at all and you were grateful for the lack of animosity and tension in the atmosphere. Not that there ever really was though; Mark was a great conversationalist—but you never wanted to listen to what he had to say.

“Hey y/n, I um—I’m throwing a party on Friday night and I was—I was wondering—um—well—would you maybe want to—you should come. It’ll be fun.”

This question stopped you in your tracks; not only was it out of the blue and completely unlike Mark to ask you something he already knew the answer to, but he sounded very nervous? Or was it hesitance? His now shy demeanor wasn’t something you were used to seeing.

In all your years of knowing him, you could honestly admit that this was the first time you’ve ever heard Mark stutter while inviting you to a party he was throwing. Although the two of you already discussed the fact that partying wasn’t your thing and that you would never even come within a few miles of whatever location it was that the celebration would be held at, you weren’t all too surprised at his sudden invitation.

Mark portrayed himself to be the kind of person who didn’t take no for an answer. Even if you said no to the college night life, it was evident that he was going to try and get you to change your mind for whatever reason; probably to say that he was the first person who actually succeeded in getting you to attend a college party. Anyone and everyone who knew of you personally understood that the type of people Mark involved himself with were not your crowd at all.

“That’s a joke right? You can’t be serious. I know you’re well aware that I don’t go to shit like that—“

“Why not y/n? I’m telling you, it’s going to be one hell of a time. You said so yourself, you’ve never attended any party nor have you ever gone out to a bar or a club, so you’d have no idea what it’s like. Friday is Jackson’s 23rd birthday and birthday celebrations are much more exciting than our normal events. There will be great music, good food, plenty of people—“

“Sex, weed, drugs, shitty alcohol, assholes who don’t know their limits and just assume a woman wants to sleep with them just because they’re wearing something revealing? Yeah, no thank you. Life isn’t just about fucking and getting high off of illegal substances, you know that right?”

The scowl on his face—the way his brows were furrowing as he bit the inside of his cheek made it evident that he did not like one word coming out from your mouth. Honestly, neither did you. You weren’t like this at all. Even if you didn’t like someone or didn’t agree with the way they went about with their life, you never gave your opinion because who were you to tell them what to do?

Who were you to judge their decisions and the choices they made? However, you wanted a way to get Mark in to opening his eyes to the toxic life he was currently living. You wanted him to know why he wasn’t doing too well in school; that his habits were destructive and that he needed to make decisions that would benefit his future—not his college self who only cared about temporary happiness and the high that came with being so high up on the social ladder.

“God y/n, who fucking hurt you? Why are you so harsh? Is that all you believe I care about? Sex? Money? Partying? It’s none of your business, but I care about so much more than what you assume I do. Not that it concerns you, but so what if I like to drink? So what if I like to smoke pot and have fun with my friends? I’m young, I have every right to have fun—“

“I didn’t say you couldn’t—“

“But you’re trying to make me feel bad for doing so. You think you’re such a great person just because you’re smart and you do well in school. News flash y/n, nobody likes a teacher’s pet. You guys think you’re better than everyone else just because you don’t get involved in the things that people like me do, but it doesn’t make you all the more greater than me. Maybe you’re not getting fucked, that’s why you have such a stick in your ass—“

Was this really happening right now? Sure, you were wrong for trying to paint him out to be the bad guy; especially because you had no idea what really went on in his life. Everything you were confronting him about was solely based on hearsay.

Why did it bother you so much? The decisions he made for himself—living the kind of life he was currently living, why was it any of your business? He’s right—how he went about his day didn’t concern you. What he did in his free time wasn’t had nothing to do with you. Was it because of what your professor said the other day about how he was capable of greatness, but he was choosing to go down a path of destruction?

Did you see something in him? Did you also believe that he could be more successful in his education if only he were to make it his number one priority? Of course you did? He proved to you multiple times this week that he wanted to do so much better and that he wasn’t incompetent or ignorant.

He was trying—that’s all that mattered. What was so hard with acknowledging his efforts? If he was willing to take the time out of his schedule—even if you were well aware that studying and working on assignments were more important that whatever he normally did—than shouldn’t you be a little more amiable? You said so yourself, you didn’t hate him.

So why were you treating him so harshly? It wasn’t fair to him—but you didn’t have a plausible answer and the last thing you’d ever do was show any ounce of concern for the older boy.

“That’s not true. You know nothing about me Mark—“

“You don’t know jack shit about me either y/n yet here you are—claiming I’m some fucking nymphomaniac who needs to constantly shoot up drugs to be happy. Fuck, my effort—my constant need of approval from you—staying up till three in the morning working on those stupid fucking essays—they mean nothing to you huh? I’m always going to be a loser in your eyes—“

You don’t know what it was, but now you really felt bad for the way you attacked him out of nowhere. All he did was ask you to go to his party; you could have just said no. But now the truth was coming out and you felt like such a terrible person.

“That’s not true Mark—“

“Bullshit y/n. I could become valedictorian and I’d still be a delinquent—a no good prick in your eyes.”

Something in your body wanted to reach out to him, for reasons you didn’t think you’d ever be able to understand. Maybe it’s because you wrongfully accused him of being the person you assumed he was—only to find out he was far from what people painted him out to be. But you silenced the voice as soon as it appeared; if he were to find out that you were now filled with remorse, he would hold it against you. You’ve never seen Mark so upset before and you were so irritated with yourself for being the reason behind his anger. He was as much human as he was the cocky fuckboy he had a reputation of being.

“Mark I—“

“You know what? I think it would be best for us to end it here today. I just remembered I have somewhere to be and no—before you assume, I’m not going to go get high and fuck the first person I lay my eyes on.”

He didn’t even give you a second to respond to his spiteful words; he yanked at his backpack and threw it over his shoulder before storming away from the table. God, what was wrong with you? What did you just do? Not once in your life would you ever have thought that you’d be put in a situation where you’d feel apologetic for something you caused.

This was all your fault. You couldn’t blame Mark for this one—as much as you wanted to say he instigated this entire argument by asking you a question he should have already known the answer to, maybe he felt like the two of you were civil enough where he could ask you something like that. You couldn’t blame him if he no longer wanted to continue your tutoring sessions.

Hell, if you were in his shoes and he were to lash out on you and say all these degrading things about you, you probably would have slapped him in the face. Why didn’t you wait a few seconds to actually think before you said all of those negative things to him? He may have acted as though nothing bothered him; you were sure he’s heard the crude names some people would call him and he had to hear at least one rumor that was spreading around your campus.

You couldn’t even count how many rumors you’ve heard about Mark on both of your hands. If only you were able to turn back time, you wouldn’t have confessed all that you did—even if you meant it in the moment. The look of fury on his face; yet the sorrow in his eyes made you feel like a monster. You ended up leaving the library not too long after he did, you couldn’t handle staying there knowing that you probably ruined the rest of his entire week.

Right as you made it to your apartment, Mark stayed on your mind for the rest of the night. The thought of him haunted you as if your conscience wanted you to be reminded of your chastising. You couldn’t find it in yourself to fall asleep; you began to toss and turn trying your best to do whatever it was to grow tired—but nothing.

All you could think about were ways to apologize. What could you say or do that would show him just how regretful you were and how you wished you could take back everything you said? You tried to tell yourself to get over it. For all you knew, he probably did.

Your opinion shouldn’t have mattered to him; he had to be over it or at least you were hoping he moved passed the entire situation. You weren’t surprised when he didn’t show up in the library at your normal meeting time the next day. He didn’t end up coming on Thursday either.

A huge part of you wanted to reach out to him; to text him or even call him, asking him if he wanted to end your sessions completely but you were too much of a coward. You also wanted to give him his space. It was still too early for you to try and apologize to him. He’d probably laugh in your face or worse, make a fool out of you in front of his friends. When Friday came around, you came to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to meet up with you for the rest of this week.

The fight was such a distraction; you couldn’t concentrate at all in any of your classes or at work. One of these days, you just had to suck it up and find him—confess your mistake even if he refused to listen. He needed to know that you were wholeheartedly rueful.

“Hey Mark, we ran out of vodka dude! Yugyeom said he’ll drive if you go in to the store.”

An exasperated sigh fell from his lips. In the beginning of the week and even when Mark was first planning this party a couple of weeks ago, he was extremely excited.

Jackson was his best friend; sure, he was close with every single member of their friend group, but he’s known Jackson the longest and they just had a closer bond than the others did. However, he wanted nothing more than to pass on the party planning and all the responsibilities that came with it to somebody else.

Your words—he didn’t understand why he was letting it bother him so much. If it were anyone else, he would have brushed their words off like nothing. He didn’t care what anyone had to think about him. Mark wasn’t stupid; he saw the way people would look at him in the hall. Girls would either gawk at him or glare at him.

Guys would either roll their eyes at him or want to talk with him. But for some reason, he found himself wanting to impress you. Little did you know, Mark has noticed you from the time you guys were in middle school. He thought you were cute and he inspired to be even half of the amazing student you were. Seeing as though he never cared too much about education the way he did with sports, he believed that you wouldn’t find him all that interesting nor was there anything the two of you had in common.

Since you both came from two different worlds—you never really interacted with each other in high school and when you moved on to college, your university was huge; there was no way the two of you would bump in to each other. However, when he saw you on the first day of class, Mark knew this was his chance to simply talk with you.

He had been well aware that you must have known all about him and he could only hope that you didn’t see him in a negative light. He didn’t know how to approach you and he’s energetic talked to a girl in any other way that flirtatiously. That’s why he pestered you so much; it was the only way he thought he could get your attention.

Hearing how you truly felt about him though really made his head spin. The way you treated him in class whenever he’d ask for a pencil or some paper—those encounters alone made it evident that you had ill feelings for him, but he didn’t think they were all that bad. After you practically sprinted away from the lecture hall after your professor, Mark felt as though he already knew your answer. You hated him; you had to.

There was no other explanation to the way you would look at him like he was the scum under your feet and between your toes. He wanted to prove you wrong; he wanted to change the way you saw him, what you thought about him. The older boy had a hard time processing the idea of worrying about how you saw him. He couldn’t give less of a shit if people didn’t like him or assumed that he was a womanizer who spent most of his college career drinking beers and smoking blunts.

However, hearing your venom filled words really stuck a nerve with him and for some reason, he wanted to do whatever he could in his power to change your outlook on him. Mark knew exactly why he was so bothered with the fact that you thought so negatively of him. He’s always believed that you were one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever laid his eyes on.

From the sixth grade all the way to junior year in high school; Mark admired you from afar. Sometimes, he’d debate on joining one of the clubs you were in just to be near you in the hopes of developing a friendship with you, but his friends would’ve had a field day.

If anyone were to see him in the library with a bunch of nerds for book club just to get your attention, he would never hear the end of it. He might have known that you didn’t necessarily care for him, but you did tell him you didn’t hate him.

Your confession the other day said otherwise; each and every single word that fell from your mouth was like a punch in the gut. In fact; Mark’s been in enough altercations to know that he was more hurt mentally by what you had to say than he ever was while having fists thrown at him. He wanted to be mad at you, but he just couldn’t.

Sure, the way you went about confessing what you thought about him was extremely rude, but most of what you said was true. He couldn’t blame you for thinking so brashly towards him, but he thought with the amount of effort he was putting in not only in to his studies, but in to your meet ups that you would see him as more than just a fuckboy.

You obviously had better things to do, but he was still so grateful that you agreed to tutoring him. With the way you would barely speak a word while you were together, Mark could tell that you weren’t all that fond of his presence, but he didn’t want to give up in trying to at least be someone you’d want to be friends with.

Anger couldn’t even describe half of what Mark was thinking once he left you there in the library. He was more disappointed in himself than he was in you, particularly because he made that reputation for himself. There were so many instances where he could have changed his playboy ways, but he never did and now he was paying for it.

This had to be his karma for all the times he broke the hearts of poor, innocent girls who developed feelings for him. The only girl he ever cared about and wanted to become closer with on a more personal level was the same girl who hated his entire existence.

“Hey man, is everything okay? You’ve been out of it the last two days. Did something happen?”

Mark shrugged indifferently; he trusted his younger friend with his entire life. Yugyeom was like a younger brother to him. Mark and his younger brother Joey never really got along. Hell, they hardly ever talked to each other unless their parents forced them to and it was because Mark was adamantly jealous of Joey’s drive and workmanship while Joey considered Mark to be a bum; he had no future at the rate he was going.

Since he was the oldest out of the seven of them, they were all like younger brothers to him but since Yugyeom was the youngest, Mark was the most protective over him. Yugyeom had to be the least air-headed and narcissistic. Although, he did enjoy the fact that girls would grovel at his feet and literally throw themselves at him, he didn’t lead any of them on the way his older friends did. He was also very polite to everyone he did encounter and he could never show any ounce of malice.

“It’s nothing—don’t worry about me, let’s just get this over with.”

It wasn’t unusual for their car rides to be filled with silence. Sometimes it was just nice to listen to the radio and not have to be bothered by unnecessary conversation. Talking wasn’t something Mark was a fan of and neither was Yugyeom; in fact, that was one of the reasons why he enjoyed driving around with the younger boy so much.

Nothing was expected out of Mark like it was if he were to go out with Jinyoung orBamBam. Thankfully, the grocery store was less than five minutes away from Jackson’s house and before he knew it, they were pulling up right in front of it.

“Hey Mark, do you think you could get me some condoms while you’re in there? I ran out yesterday.”

If it were anyone else, he would have told them to fuck off and to go in and get them themselves. But since it was Yugyeom and he could never say no to him, he just took his money without hesitation. He didn’t have a problem with having to buy condoms. It was better to be safe than to be sorry. Mark didn’t think it was wrong to want to be protected during sex.

Everyone had sex these days, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for a man his age to purchase condoms. He didn’t want to seem self indulged, but one look at Mark and you knew he got his dick sucked on a weekly basis. Since he was only buying a couple of things, mainly from the alcohol aisle, he didn’t waste time looking around for things he wouldn’t need.

The alcohol aisle was in the front of the store; he didn’t frequent this supermarket all that often but he’s been here enough times to know where most of his necessities were located. Right after picking up three different bottles of vodka, he briskly made his way over to the condoms; picking up the Trojan ecstasy that Yugyeom repeatedly told him to purchase and then he went on the search for a bottle opener.

He assumed it was somewhere near the alcohol, so he began to make his way back to the aisle—until he got a text from Yugyeom saying Jinyoung asked for some candles and a lighter. Those two items he had no idea where to find them, so he made his way over to an associate. If he wasn’t in a rush, he would’ve looked for the items himself—he hated having to talk to people if he didn’t have to. Mark was very good at finding whatever it was that he needed without assistance, but he didn’t want to waste any time.

The sooner they returned back to the party, the faster he could go back to his place. Once he saw someone stocking up canned foods in one of the aisles near the freezer, he approached her impatiently; not wanting to get a text from Yugyeom telling him to hurry up.

“Excuse me, could you tell me where I could find candles—y/n?”

Mark didn’t think his mood could get any worse; he had every intention on getting drunk off his ass tonight but it wasn’t going to be until he returned back to his loft. If he were to drink at the party, he was 100% sure from past experiences that he would either end up having to help Jackson with the cleaning or he would be in bed with someone by the end of the night and he had no intentions on doing anything but going straight to sleep once it was all over—or until Jackson was drunk enough not to notice his disappearance.

Seeing you for the first time that night—and in a grocery store of all places brought him through so many different emotions. He didn’t think he was ready to face you just yet, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss you. Wait—what? There was no way he missed you—no. He couldn’t have.

You made him feel so pathetic—so miserable—so small and the two of you weren’t even friends. He knew deep in his gut that you despised him; you showed no interest in any attempt of his trying to get to know you. For the first time in his entire life, you made him feel insecure. Like—he wasn’t worthy of having you as a friend or even just as a tutor.

But you never left his mind once since that God awful day. At first, he believed it was because your words had such a huge effect on him. He believed every single thing you had to say. Most of it was true, sure—but the way you indirectly hinted towards him being a nobody if he kept his act up—that wrecked him.

Mark meant what he said when he admitted to working harder in school in order to impress you. He didn’t want you to think you were wasting your time tutoring him only for him to learn nothing and not get around to completing assignments. He wanted you to know that your sacrifice meant a lot to him and that he was planning on cleaning his act up so you wouldn’t regret your decision; even if you did get something out of it.

His chest soon grew heavy and he felt like his throat was swollen; as if no words would come out if he actually tried to speak. The night he went home, he contemplated ending the entire thing only because he assumed you no longer wanted anything to do with him and because he didn’t think he could face you. Not after everything that escalated. However, he knew that nobody would be able to help him with his work the way that you did. He wouldn’t be able to learn from anyone else anyway—but he stayed away for the last two days because he wanted to calm down.

There was no way in hell he could pretend nothing happened and he was afraid of saying something that he didn’t mean just to spite you. Mark wasn’t sure just how long he was going to go without meeting with you, but he wasn’t going to take too long or he was sure you would think he no longer needed the tutoring which was far from the truth.

Something about seeing you—not only for the first time after going two days without meeting up with you but at your workplace made his stomach sore. He didn’t know why it bothered him seeing you in your uniform; watching you stack cans up on the shelves. Something about it made him feel somewhat—sad.

Maybe it’s because he knows just how much of a hardworking student you were and an even more successful person in general and he would never had expected you to work somewhere so—well—lackluster and dull. People like you—headstrong and determined should be working as supervisors in prestigious companies or at least a receptionist at a hospital or something. Anything better than an old supermarket.

“Hi.”

“You—you work here?”

He scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment; not knowing how to act in front of you and he was fearful of saying something stupid.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

He mentally slapped himself—what did it matter where you worked? It wasn’t any of his business. Your business was none of his to worry about just as much as his was none of your concern. But you deserved so much better—in more ways than one.

“What do you mean why? It’s a job? I need money?”

“Well I mean yeah—but you could do so much better than this shit show.”

You had to stifle back a laugh and seeing your eyes crinkle at his comment did wonders to his heart. This was the first time he’s ever seen your emotions; other than having a constant glare or frown on your face and he really enjoyed it. Happiness suited you. He liked seeing you smile and now, he grew to desire being the reason behind it.

“The pay is pretty good, and it’s only five minutes away from where I live so it’s convenient.”

“Oh—well, I mean when you put it that way—I just—I—never mind.”

The two of you averted your gazes to the ground; he couldn’t look at you because he was now worried that you caught on to the fact that he cared about you. At this point, Mark wasn’t concerned whether or not you knew that he wanted to protect you or that he was afraid for your safety. He’d just make up a lie about not having someone to tutor him if something bad were to happen to you if you happened to ask him why your job bothered him.

“What was it that you were looking for?”

“Ah—um, candles and a lighter. We got Jackson this big cake and he just let Jinyoung know that his parents don’t have any candles at their house—sorry—too much information.”

You shook your head in disagreement before leading him to the aisle in which he assumed he could find things for parties. He knew in that moment that you no longer were irritated with him; you could have just told him where the items were located but you actually brought him there. That had to be a good thing right?

“Here we go. There’s pocket ones and the longer one. We have matches if you don’t want to worry about it dying out. And the candles are right next to the paper plates.” He thanked you politely and began to make his way toward the candles. However, your soft voice calling out to him stopped Mark in his tracks.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I shouldn’t have said anything that I did. It’s not my place to make such stupid assumptions about you and I should’ve told you this sooner—“

“Hey, don’t worry about it okay? You weren’t wrong. Well, for the most part everything you mentioned was true. Sure, I could’ve gone without hearing all of that but it’s done. I’m over it. And if you’re okay with it, I’d still like to receive tutoring from you.” The look of surprise on your face tugged on his heartstrings; how could someone be so cute yet make him so hard? You were otherworldly.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I’m the one that fucked everything up. I should be on my knees, begging you for forgiveness—“

“If you want to make it up to me, you’ll be on your knees begging for something else—ow! Who knew you had such an arm on you y/n.” He playfully rubbed the part of his shoulder that you punched him at but it didn’t stop him from picking up on your now quiet demeanor.

“It seems as though you already have someone else who will do that for you, so—“

He looked down at the box of condoms and internally screamed. Fucking Kim Yugyeom—always asking for the wrong things at the wrong time. Although Mark knew exactly why he was frustrated being caught by you holding a box of condoms, you already presumed that he lived a very sexually active lifestyle. It was one thing to think that he was hooking up with more than half of the student body, but it was a completely other thing seeing proof for yourself.

“These? Oh, um. These actually aren’t for me. Yugyeom is waiting for me in the car and he asked me to buy him some—“

You gave him a small smile, one he wouldn’t even have noticed if he wasn’t heavily observing your facial reactions. He wanted nothing more than to know what you were thinking. If he was being honest with himself, you probably couldn’t give less of a shit if he was in fact buying them for his use.

What did it matter to you? The longer the two of you stood there in the awkward, the more he began to come up with excuses as to why he didn’t want you thinking he was going to hook up with someone tonight. Nobody knew this and if any of his friends were to find out—he was screwed.

Mark hasn’t slept with anyone since the two of you began your study sessions for reasons still unbeknownst to him but only then; looking at you and your big—doe like eyes, wanting to take you away from that wretched place you called your working environment, trying his best to hide the smile that was peering up at him just standing there in your presence, wanting to ditch the party in order to listen to you talk about the civil war and the different types of matter there was—it was in that moment that he finally accept his feelings for what they were.

He was falling in love with you.

Love.

The older boy has never experienced that emotion before. Ever. He’s never met anyone who made him crave attention, comfort, infatuation, friendship—love. Nobody made him feel the way you currently were. Nobody had ever taken up so much space in his mind and consumed his thoughts entirely the way you had in less than the four months he’s gotten to interact with you for.

You made him mad—furious even with the idea that you judged him without even getting to know him, the real him. Yet you also made him smile like an idiot at how much effort you’d put in to your lesson plans and how you would nonchalantly ask him if he ate or how school went.

No one, not even his friends would check up on how he was doing and for some reason, no matter how much you’d try to come off as though you thought nothing of him, Mark was sure there was some part of you that cared about him and that was enough to solidify what he harbored for you.

The feelings he developed for you back in middle and high school; they came back full force in less than a month and splashed on him like freezing cold water—searing through his skin and sending electricity through his bones. Obviously, it wasn’t something he was used to. Hell, it scared him; knowing he was falling for someone he didn’t know would reciprocate his same feelings—he’s never had to deal with that kind of uncertainty before.

“You don’t have to explain it to me Mark, we’re not friends. It’s none of my concern, remember?”

“No, but I want it to be. I want to be friends with you y/n. You know, you’re really smart, but you’re not that bright—“

“Do you want me to hit you again?”

Mark couldn’t help but let out another giggle. God, what were you doing to him? He’s never let anyone have so much control and power over him before and he was starting to really enjoy the effect you were having on him. He could only hope that one day, you would change your outlook on him completely. He was well aware that the possibility of you ever liking him back was slim, but it wasn’t impossible. “No, but like I said, I’d be honored if you allowed me to be

your friend.” You scrunched your face as though you were disgusted by his choice of words, but he knew you were just messing around with him.

“You sound so proper putting it like that. But sure, that sounds like a good idea. We have three more months to work together, so I guess it would be best for us not to desire ripping the other’s head off.”

“I never wanted to rip your head off. I actually think your head is pretty great—oh, um, hold on for just a second.”

The vibrating in his pocket brought him straight back to reality. He would continue talking to you for hours if he had the choice, but Yugyeom was probably wondering what could be taking Mark so long.

“I couldn’t find the candles and the lighter—the party isn’t going to end this early dumb ass would you wait—what? Fine, I’ll be right out.” He released a frustrated sigh before giving you a grim look.

“I better get going. What um—what time are you done? I don’t want you to go home too late, it’s dangerous out there. I could come back and pick you up—“

“It’s fine Mark. I’m done in half an hour and I drove here, but thank you for the offer. Yeah, me too. I’m sure my manager is wondering why I have yet to go to the stockroom. We still have a lot of shipment from earlier. Enjoy the party—oh, and by the way, I need you to know that you’re a remarkable person Mark. I know you’re trying your best and I’m sorry I didn’t praise you earlier on your growth, but I’m really proud of you. Have a nice evening.”

Mark was sure that if he were to look in a mirror, his cheeks would be red—they sure felt like it. You made him feel like a school boy, blushing from being around his crush. He was now happier than he’s ever been in a really long time and it was just by your compliment alone. He couldn’t wait to see how your friendship was going to develop; he couldn’t wait to be able to be more free around you and not have to worry about you getting mad at his flirty little remarks. Once he finished paying and returned back to the car, he wasted no time punching Yugyeom in the shoulder.

“Ow, what the fuck was that for?”

“Next time, buy your own shit. People gave me weird looks for buying your fucking rubbers for you.” The younger boy rolled his eyes as he began to drive away.

“Who gives a shit what people think? I’m a twenty-two year old man in college, it’s only natural for me to have sex right now. And hey, at least I’m being safe right?”

Mark scoffed. Out of their entire group of friends, Mark and Yugyeom were the ones who had the most action; or at least that’s what he thought from what they would always tell each other. Youngjae and BamBam weren’t as needy for intercourse and Jinyoung had been booking up with the same girl for the last two months—but Mark was the only one who knew that. Safe was the last thing Yugyeom could ever be; honestly, Mark wouldn’t have been surprised if he were to find out that Yugyeom had a baby somewhere out there but it wasn’t his place to say anything.

“There’s more behind your anger than what you’re putting out there—so spill.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You buy condoms once a week, don’t give me that shit. You saw someone there that you knew didn’t you?”

Mark didn’t know what to say. Sure, he trusted that Yugyeom wouldn’t judge him if he were to find out that he had a crush on you—well, more than just a little crush but no one needed to know exactly how he felt about you. But Yugyeom was as much a guy as he was Mark’s friend. He would mess around with him and probably wouldn’t understand the older boy’s feelings.

“Just somebody from my English class. She works there and I had to ask her for assistance with the candles—“

“Wait, are you talking about y/n?” The older boy looked at him in disbelief? How did he know who Mark was talking about without even having him say your name? How did he know who you were?

“You know y/n?”

“Yeah, she’s in my religion class. She’s the only person I know who works at that dump. She’s also the only hot one there too. I’ve been trying to indirectly ask her out for weeks but she doesn’t get the hint—“

“Or she doesn’t like you like that.”

Yugyeom let out a snicker and turned to Mark as he pulled up to a red light. “We all know any girl would get weak at the knees just being able to talk to me. She’s just playing hard to get, that’s all. But since you said that, I can’t help but wonder—you like her don’t you? Wait, is y/n the reason why you’ve been such a grumpy old man lately?”

Normally Yugyeom wasn’t one to get involved in Mark’s private life; none of them would stick their noses in places where they shouldn’t be. But then again, Yugyeom was always kind of nosy and he had a tendency to constantly pry at his older friends if there was information that he wanted to know. It only took them five minutes to get to the store, why did it seem like it was taking them forever to get back to Jackson’s place?

“No. I barely know her—“

“Eyyyyy, Mark, I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid. If you didn’t like her, you wouldn’t care that she saw you getting these. You don’t have to lie to me. I don’t blame you, she’s pretty much a complete package. Beauty, body, brains—I bet she’s great at giving head as she is using it. Don’t worry, I won’t say anything—but what about we make this interesting.”

Mark could feel his blood boil hearing Yugyeom say those things about you. It wasn’t as if he didn’t describe other girls the way Yugyeom was with you, but he hated hearing anyone talk dirty about you or degrade you like the way Yugyeom just did. He knew the younger boy was just messing around with him, but he was afraid that things were going to take a turn for the worst if Yugyeom were to continue.

“What are you referring to Yugyeom?” The younger boy raised his brow before biting the inside of his cheek.

“I bet you—“

“Fuck that, no bets. I’m not doing that shit, especially not one involving y/n—“

“Come on man, don’t be such a pussy. It’ll be fun. What? Scared you won’t be able to do it?”

No. I’m scared it’s going to ruin everything between y/n and I if things go to shit in the end.

“No. Of course not you dick. I’m the king of bets. You know that. Fine, whatever. Lay it on me asshole.”

Yugyeom found his previous parking spot and waited until he turned the car off before he faced Mark and began to think about his next move. Damnit, why did he agree so easily? He should have tried harder in rejecting his friend’s suggestion. Bets were never good. Especially involving girls.

They had these stupid bets all the time and from experience, Mark had a feeling what Yugyeom was going to have him do had to deal with sex. Mark didn’t even think about you and him in that way—well, of course he did. There were few occasions where you’d talk back to him and he wanted to see what else your mouth could do—but sex was the last thing he wanted to do with you.

As of right now, he wanted to be close to you. He wanted to learn each and every little thing about you. He wanted to make you laugh, he wanted to hold you, to kiss you and to be the reason why you woke up happy every single morning. He wanted to flaunt you off to the entire school and to take you home to meet his family. He wanted to be yours. But people like Mark and people like you would never work together—even if that’s all he really wanted, life was never that easy and by the sly look on Yugyeom’s face, he had a feeling that the bet was going to be difficult.

“You have one month to bring y/n to one of these parties and she has to kiss you in front of all of us. You can’t kiss her and you can’t ask her to kiss you—she has to do it on her own.”

Mark scoffed, that was going to be a piece of cake—but wait, this was you he was talking about. It took him three months to even get you to talk to him, there was no way you were going to kiss him willingly and at a party of theirs. Yugyeom probably knew it wasn’t going to work and that’s why he proposed that idea.

“What if I win?”

“You get a hot chick wrapped around your finger. What more could you want?”

“Dude I’m going to call this bet off before it even starts—“

“Fine, I’ll give you $100.”

“Okay, and if I lose?”

“Then I’ll fuck her myself and send you the video.” His jaw clenched and he could feel himself ready to leap over the console in order to slap Yugyeom’s cocky smile off his face. The thought of anyone, let alone one of his closest friends fooling around with you sent a bad feeling to his chest and he was going to do whatever he could to make sure that never happened.

“Dude, she’s not going to sleep with you, find something else.”

“Woah, someone’s confident that he knows all about our pretty little grocery clerk—fine. If I win, I get to borrow your motorcycle for a week.”

There were so many red flags going off in his head—this wasn’t going to turn out very well. But it wasn’t all that bad of a bet and unfortunately, Mark’s ego was the size of California. If he were to say no, he’d look like such a punk and he knew Yugyeom would tell their friends—so it didn’t come as a shock when he found himself shaking Yugyeom’s hand.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

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

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probably-writing-x · 5 years ago

Text

Abrupt exposures

Arón Piper x Reader

Request by anon: one where the reader is also apart of the Elite cast and the fans suspect that she’s dating aron and it’s confirmed over an IG story accidentally because one of the cast members records them by mistake

Gif is not my own

Requests are open🤍

“We’re just really good friends, nothing more,” You assure the interviewer in front of you, “We’ve been friends since the start of the show and we’ve just had the opportunity to bond ever since then. Arón’s my best friend.”

“Alright, thank you so much for your time (Y/n),” They smile as they dismiss you from the interview and you move onto the next.

Tonight was the season 3 premiere for Élite and you’d never been more excited to celebrate the release. This was your favourite season so far and the show had started to mean a whole lot more to you recently.

“Now I’m joined with (Y/n), tell me your thoughts on your character’s development this season,” The lady interviewer asks you over the loud noise of the waiting fans.

“I think this is where you’ll really see them go through the most progression. I think they’re learning a lot about themselves and learning to be a better person. They don’t always go about that in the right way but I think they’re really trying to navigate everything and trying to understand that they do sometimes need other people in order to do that. I was so excited to bring these storylines to life this season and I’m equally as excited for all of our wonderful fans to see it,” You smile proudly, glancing around at the cast that we’re completing interviews beside you.

“And what about your personal life? Did you draw any inspiration from that?”

“Yeah, certainly,” You nod, “I think mainly in how to use the people around you in such a mutualistic way where you can be there to support them as much as they support you. And becoming aware of those truly good people in your life that will really make a difference,” You’re thinking of one person in particular as you speak and it’s impossible to not smile a little at the thought.

“Now, final question and it was the question all of our fans wanted to know the answer to. Are we seeing an off screen romance between you and your costar Arón?”

You laugh lightly, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Arón is my best friend. He’s my support system and a wonderful guy. But there’s nothing happening between us.”

“Okay folks, thank you for that (Y/n), that was excellent,” The interviewer bids you farewell as you move to greet a few more fans.

As you do, you see Arón just nearing the edge of the line as he makes his way towards the doors of the theatre. You go about signing as much as you can and taking photos with everyone before sending them your love and making your own way towards the doors.

“All done?” Arón is waiting just inside the lobby as you walk in through the outside doors.

Your lips curl into a smile as you see him, “Yep.”

He pushes himself up from the wall and locks a hand with yours, “You look gorgeous tonight.”

“So do you,” You beam, leaning in to kiss his cheek as the two of you head through to the backstage of the theatre.

You’d been dating for almost a year now and had managed to always shut down any rumours that questioned otherwise. Any time you posted a story of the two of you or a photo on your Instagram, rumours spread like wildfire that there was something going on. You always managed to dismiss it or make a jokey post that made things seem like you were just friends and things calmed down. Only to be resurfaced again at the next opportunity.

You joined the rest of the cast backstage so you could all prepare to go on stage before the premiere of episode one where you’d chat a little bit about the upcoming series and thank everyone for being there. Arón leant back against the dressing table and reached out his arms as you walked to stand between his legs and wrap your arms around him.

“How many times did you get asked?” He mumbles, burying his head into your shoulder as he peppers you with kisses.

“almost every interview,” You laugh, “I nearly gave up.”

“Me too,” He comments, “Somebody asked me about being proud of the cast and I didn’t stop talking about you,” He admits it so bashfully, his introverted personality shining through.

“You’re so cute,” You beam, holding his chin to turn him towards you as you kiss him softly.

He hums against your lips and deepens the gesture.

“Fuck! Do you want everyone to find out you’re dating?” Miguel laughs as him and Mina walk into the room.

“Shut up Miguel,” Arón rolls his eyes as you turn around to face them and he keeps his arms around you.

“Seriously, with the way you were looking at each other out there? You weren’t being very secretive,” Miguel jokes, coming over to clasp both of you on the shoulder, “But your secrets always safe with me.”

“We should probably get going right? I think everyone’s seated by now,” You point out, checking the time on your phone.

The screen flashes alive with a photo of Arón you’d taken only a few weeks ago. He was sat on the balcony of your apartment with his ankles crossed and his legs resting on the stone railing around the balcony. He’d been laughing at something you said and you snapped the candid photo before he could blush and cover his expression with a mocking middle finger. He looked stunning.

“Yeah, can’t be late! They’ll be asking a thousand questions more if we’re late,” Omar jokes and jabs Arón in the side.

He hits him back jokingly as all of you check your mics before walking out through to where you’d go on stage. Arón walks with his hand effortlessly locked with yours as the cast all start being introduced to walk on stage. Your name is called and you reluctantly let go of your hand, letting the applause warm your face with a bright smile as you step out.

- - - - - -

The after party was always the most fun part of the premiere, where all of you got to let loose and truly celebrate yourselves and the project more than ever. You made sure to all get a few drinks in and toast to each other, the venue already bustling with people.

“Danna!” You grin as you see her, wrapping her in a long hug, “You look stunning!”

“Ahh thank you so much!” She beams, “Lets get a photo!”

You two pose for a photo together which she instantly posts to her Instagram story. You go to take another as a pair of arms wrap around you and pull you into their chest.

“I missed you,” Arón mumbles into your ear, kissing just below it as he speaks.

“You were gone for five minutes,” You laugh, turning in his arms to face him, “Am I just thay missable?”

He jokingly looks as though he’s pondering the thought before his lips curl into a smile, “Dance with me, you love this song!”

It’s impossible to say no to him as he buries his face in your neck and the two of you sway far too slowly to the upbeat track.

You’re so lost in each other that you don’t hear when Ester starts filming for her Instagram as they all sing along to the music. And you certainly don’t pay attention to the fact that you’re right in the background of the video...

- - - - - -

The next morning, the lasting effects of the alcohol mean it takes you longer than usual to get up at all. You’d had a lazy morning alongside Arón in bed, both of you ignorant to everything else around you. You hadn’t thought too much about how much your phones were buzzing - expecting it to be the typical aftermath of the premiere hype that had caused it.

“Fuck! They don’t want to leave us alone this morning,” Arón grumbles as you bury your head into his chest.

“Ignore it,” You mumble as your phone buzzes another two times and his starts to ring.

“Alright, alright, give me two minute,” He confirms, shuffling out of the bed and reluctantly out of your grip as he stands up to find his phone in his jeans from the night before.

He’s completely naked and still half asleep as he tries to read what had been coming through on his screen.

“What?” He frowns, “Miguel’s just said ‘I promise it wasn’t me’.”

You push yourself to sit up in the bed, tucking the sheet under your shoulders to keep you covered, “What wasn’t him?”

He laughs a little, “Well, fuck.”

“What?” You frown, reaching to grab the phone from him.

“Alright but before you see it,” He holds the phone up high to stop you from grabbing it, “I want you to be sure that this doesn’t change anything. We’ll make it work and we’ll just have to figure out a way of-“

“Arón!” You exclaim, “Let me see the phone!”

He chuckles and hands it over so you can see the video replaying on his screen - the video Ester has taken. With a clear view of you and Arón cosying up in the background.

“Holy shit,” You let out in an exasperated breath, “Everybody’s seen this?”

“Pretty much,” He says with a smirk playing on his lips.

“What do we do?”

“What do you mean?” Arón laughs, “Does this change anything?”

“Well, no. But it’s a lot harder to manage a relationship when you’re in the public eye...”

“Yeah, but we don’t have to share excessive amounts. We’ll continue doing as we are now, just stop lying in interviews now,” He jokes, “They don’t need to know every detail about our relationship just because they’ve seen us together.”

Just like that, he’s said the words suitable for calming your nerves.

“And nobody gets to see us like this, other than us,” He comments as he clambers back Into bed with you, “I think we’ll both just be glad to not have to lie anymore, you’re a terrible liar!”

520 notes · View notes

woman-of-culture · 5 years ago

Text

The traitor (1/2)

Dabi x reader

Part 2

Warnings: Dabis identity, 3rd year age up, this does not accurately follow the plot when it comes to timing and character introduction, (most likely) a lot of grammatical errors

This is gonna be a 2 part story with the smut in the 2nd part! (Not to mention it’s gonna be much longer)

The semester is finally over! No more assignments and no more work so I present to you my first ever fanfiction. Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Words: 3,056

The League of villains might not have the best plans. Sometimes, they're poorly thought out, other times... Again, not all that effective.

From their poor managing skills to the attack on USJ where they consequentially lost the perfect nomu, their planning could use ‘some’ work. The leader, Shigaraki, being quite immature for his position, executed his plans prematurely and without much thought - oftentimes underestimating his opponents (even if they were just high school first years). Saying he has a ways to go from being the perfect leader would be an understatement.

But no matter how much you complain, you can’t ignore the fact that he’s also a valiant leader who fights for what he thinks is right, even if he does need some help along the way. That’s where you come in, being Shigarakis right hand (wo)man, alongside Kurogiri, wasn’t an easy job. Having to deal with his temper tantrums, being forced to execute a plan you didn’t 100% agree with and having your advice ignored completely most of the time wasn’t exactly what you thought joining The League of Villains would be like, but eh, nothing ever goes the way you want it to.

Which is exactly what led to this situation.

"So let me get this straight..." You say, whilst letting out an exasperated sigh "You want to kidnap and persuade, of all people, Bakugou Katsuki to turn on his dream of becoming a hero just because you've seen him compete in the sports festival?"

Not really getting your point, Shigaraki just nods with an assertive "Yes"

"No" You turn your back on him, disappointed he would even suggest this thought.

Narrowing his eyes, as if to challenge any further refusal on your part, he demands to know why you so vehemently refuse the suggestion of your next big mission.

Not at all wavering with your determination, you look him in the eyes, practically begging for him to understand how fruitless this endeavor would be.

"He might act...villainous when facing certain confrontation but he is solely focused on becoming the number one pro hero one day, it would take a hell of a lot more than just kidnapping and talking for him to turn his back on that dream. He’s determined, passionate and has a real fighting spirit. I believe if you really want him to join you need to break his spirit in some way, target him when he’s at his lowest"

Contemplating your words for merely a second he decided against listening to reason on the ground ‘It’s the perfect next move for the League to cause distrust among society, even if he refuses there will be chaos from the fact that we managed to capture a UA student whilst on a training camp.’”

Seeing no point in arguing further, you declare that you will have no part in this plan since:

1) You truly believe this will end up a failure

2) You are a student participating in the training camp and your involvement would be too risky

"Goddamn it, I knew I shouldn't have told you where the training camp will be held..." You mutter under your breath, as you look to Kurogiri, who has been silent during that whole argument, to open a portal to your apartment.

Exhausted and in need of some food, you trudge your way up to the small apartment you've called home ever since AFO took you in 4 years ago.

It was a small one bedroom apartment fit for one person, certainly better than the streets you've come to know so well during your years of desperation and homelessness.

A sigh of relief escaping once you managed to close your door and take off your shoes.

"Good evening doll."

"Good evening burnt rat, who I specifically warned not to come here anymore."

He winced, as if the comment actually hurt his feelings. "Ouch, why the sour attitude sweetheart?" Walking up to the couch, glaring at your ‘guest’ who had decided to make himself at home despite your warnings of dumping his body in the nearest ditch.

“You tell me Dabi, why in the world would you continue coming here after all my threats and the fact UA is 5 minutes from here?” “Isn’t it obvious? Despite your constant nagging, you never kick me out, you have a pretty fucking nice TV and not to mention you’re a decent cook.”

Ah, Dabi...one of the newest members of the League who joined not even 2 weeks ago. He’s a peculiar guy who comes to raid your fridge and annoy the shit out of you every other day, refusing to leave until the next morning to go God knows where. When it comes to the topic of kicking him out...you never seem to find the will to do so, whether it be the crippling loneliness forcing you to get some form of social interaction or the fact you find his company kinda enjoyable. Of course, you wouldn’t admit either to anyone even if it costs you your life.

You look at his form lounging on the couch in his pants and pale gray, scoop-neck shirt. “So, I’m guessing you ate my dinner again...?” You picked up his dark blue jacket that was lazily tossed onto the back of the sofa and made your way to the front door in order to hang it, just then noticing the dark dress shoes placed haphazardly next to the shoe rack.

With a sly wink sent your way he confirms he ate the tempura you prepared that afternoon. “But you know what? Could you be a sweetheart and make some more food? It was just so delicious but unfortunately not all that filling.” He asked, hoping flattery will get him some more food.

Looking into the fridge you could physically feel a headache coming when you confirm no tempura in sight. You would feel more frustrated if a brilliant idea didn’t come up that second. “Listen Dabi, let’s make a deal.” You turn the corner, ready to give him an ultimatum. “Oh? Where is this going? In exchange for some of your cooking I’d eat something else out first?” He tries to guess, suggestively lifting one eyebrow whilst crossing his arms at the back of his head.

Stopping in your tracks, you look at him speechless, the blood rushing to your cheeks undeniably creating a faint pink blush.”W-what!? No, you asshole! T-tomorrow are final exams so I wanted to suggest you spar with me and after I’d cook anything you want.” In what little time you knew Dabi, that was the first suggestive comment he has made towards you, breaking your thoughts for a hot second - enough to make you stutter during your protest.

Looking proud with the pink he managed to conjure on your cheeks, he closed his eyes with a smirk on his mismatched, pale-burnt lips. “Don’t know ‘bout that doll, sounds like too much work and I’ve had a long day.” He groans to emphasize his point.

“Ok then, starve”

...

“Well, actually-...”

--------------------------------------------------

The next day, during the practical exam, you ended up with Jirou against Present Mic (I’m sorry Koji but plot) which you managed to win with ease considering Dabi helped you strategize. Not to mention he gave you tips on how to improve your quirk which you implemented in the battle only to end up victorious. You’d probably need to thank him later.

Whilst reminiscing on the event, Aizawa enters into the classroom informing that no one will be left out of the training camp, but the ones who failed will receive harsher training. He gave out lodge guides and all the information needed (which you of course knew thanks to sneaking into the teachers lounge after hours) Everyone also decided to go on a shopping trip to buy the necessary things for the trip, with the exceptions of you, Bakugou and Todoroki.

Worrying about the events that will transpire did you no good so you contently walked home thinking of going to the store for some ingredients in case a certain uninvited guest decided to show up again.

Thinking about what will inevitably happen reminded you of the fact you haven’t visited the bar since your little disagreement with Shigaraki. ‘I guess I can’t blame him, even if Bakugou doesn’t join it will still provoke some fear and distrust among the general public, I guess I should apologize to him...’

--------------------------------------------------

“TOMURA!” The bar rattles with the impact of the door against the wall, barely keeping itself on it’s hinges after the kind of force you used. The people inside the bar looking at you with mixed emotions, some shocked, some indifferent and some enjoying the drama. Spinner, Toga, Dabi, Magne and Kurogiri silently looking at you for answers to their unanswered questions while Shigaraki looks at you completely shocked for he has not yet seen such an outburst from you.

“Wasn’t this supposed to be your plan? How careless can you be? In order for a stunt like this to succeed you’d need to be extra careful and methodical. Yet, what do you do? You confront Midoriya at the mall as if it wouldn’t have consequences”

“Oh, that’s all?” He returns to his planning as if you didn’t almost break down the door.

“What do you mean ‘that’s all’? Do you understand how irresponsible that was, you could have gotten caught! The whole mall was swarming with police officers literally 5 minutes after your little ‘chat’.”

“They wouldn’t have caught me even if they showed up that instant, if you used your brain you would remember that Kurogiri could just teleport me out.” Scratching his neck, clearly done with this conversation, he turned to walk away to get some quiet to finalize the plan in peace.

“You don’t get it do you? Aizawa announced the camp will not be held in the forest lodge it’s usually held every year because of this ‘incident’.” You explain taking a step to his form that stopped walking the moment those words left your lips. He turned, the scratching getting more violent by the second. “Well, where is it then?”

You don’t want to admit it but the way he looked at you, as if it was your fault the camp relocated, sent a chill down your spine. “I don’t know, the new location won’t be revealed until we get there.”

“Then you’ll send your location the moment you get there, is that so hard?” You felt your anger and frustration bubble the moment he dismissed the problem as if it were nothing, however you continued your calm-ish facade. “Tomura, I’m begging you to understand! With this there are a lot more unknown variables. You won’t have time to prepare, to get to know the layout, the schedule, anything! You’ll be going in there blind, this is definitely not a safe plan for the members. What if some of them get caught? What if-...”

You weren’t even able to finish the rest of your concern before he yelled out for you to shut up, that it was none of your concern since you weren’t apart of this mission. “We will simply have Dabi burn down half of the woods so they won’t know what’s going on, the rest only concerns the participants of this plan which, again, you are NOT, now LEAVE!”

You looked Tomura in the eyes, tears welling up in yours due to the sheer frustration of the situation. Did your opinion really mean so little to the man? You wanted nothing more than the success of the League, to fulfill your debt to AFO for saving you so many years ago. Sometimes staying up past 3 AM helping with whatever you could just because you felt as if the League really needed you. Were you really so useless to the man before you, who you would consider a dear friend, family? He ignored your advice, existence even, except when he needed insider information. You were quiet most of the time, rarely giving resistance to the point your bottled up feeling reached their limits. You lifted your head, a single tear making its way down your face as you uttered your next words.

“I will send you the location, I will figure out the schedule, I will inform you on everyone's position during the attack but just know this Tomura, your carelessness will shoot you down from that pedestal you made for yourself. You’re childish, immature, naive and juvenile. If you continue thinking you can do all of this alone it’s gonna cost you your life, the members lives, masters life-...”

That was the trigger...the last straw that finally diminished his last nerve. Lunging at you with all five fingers ready to disintegrate your arm as a form of cruel punishment. It was like slow motion, not really thinking of this outcome proved to be your downfall as you could only watch his hand getting closer.

20 centimeters...

10 centimeters...

5....

Oh fuck...

As if God heard your prayers, an arm found it’s way around your waist, pulling you to a lean, muscular chest while the other grabbed Shigarakis, pulling it away from your form and pressing his hand, that was moments away from your trembling arm, onto the counter, decaying a part of the wood until there was nothing but dust left.

The shock of the situation being felt all around the room. You didn’t fully process the severity of the event until Dabi let out a low growl, ready to use his quirk if need be. Looking up his face, situated not even 5 cm away from your own, you saw the burning fire behind his glare directed at Shigaraki, a threat, daring him to move a single finger in your direction.

In any other situation you’d pull his arm off, threatening to cut it off. However, this wasn’t any other situation. His warmth providing a sense of security you’ve never felt before, making you wish it could stay there just a minute longer. His natural musk invading your senses, calming your pounding heart to the point you almost forgot the predicament you got yourself into.

All too soon, he let go of you only to pull you behind his back with his arm stretched to the side, blocking the view of your leader with his back. Relieved, angry, confused, terrified... You couldn’t exactly categorize your feelings, the information not fully processed in your mind. You grabbed onto the back of his jacket as a means to get closer to him, scrunching it between your fingers to keep him where he is.

Whilst this was going on, Shigaraki looked at his hand, eyes wide open. For a few seconds he couldn’t fathom what he just tried to do. He looked at your form, cowering behind Dabi who only glared daggers at him silently questioning his actions.

“Out.” was the only word able to come out of his throat, not knowing how to deal with the consequences of the previous moment.

Not needing to be told twice, you ran out of the bar as fast as your legs could take you. Stumbling on your own feet, chest heaving and vision blurry you didn’t notice the set of footsteps following behind you until a hand reached out stopping you in your tracks. You panicked, kicking at your assailant in an attempt to get free.

“Calm down, would ya? It’s only me...” Turning around, to face what you had correctly presumed to be Dabi, you lunged out of his grasp narrowly missing the wall behind you.

“Why did you do that?” “What do you mean why?” He looked at you, not understanding the point of the question. “I mean... Why did you jump in to defend me? This was between me and him. Don’t get me wrong I more than appreciate your help but why... You ran the risk of a fight, not to mention injury, just because i provoked him.” You said, your gaze following the trail of his body further down till you reached his black shoes.

He scoffed, as if you just uttered the stupidest sentence he has ever heard. “Provoked? What you did in there proved you have some serious balls. You pointed out the flaws in the plan and confronted hand-job about them. You prioritized every ones safety over some mission and even put yourself at risk by ultimately agreeing to the plan and sending vital information that will be used.” He took a step forward, lifting your head between his index and thumb caressing your cheek along the way to hopefully calm you some more if his words didn’t help.

“That being said, you should still have some faith in us, well, in me specifically.” He smirked noticing the corner of your lips twitch up at his comment. “I’ll burn down every obstacle, every hero that comes in my way so you won’t have to worry so much.” Finally, pressing his forehead to your own he managed to fully calm your nerves, unintentionally, you also synced up your breathing to match his.

You looked at his beautiful teal colored eyes unable to focus on any of your surroundings ‘Were his eyes always so mesmerizing?’ You felt your eyelids droop almost closing them by the time he took your hand in his and started to lead you down the road. “H-huh? Wait, where are we going?” “We’re going to your apartment to eat something and sleep, perhaps watch a movie to forget today.”

You look at the man in front of you, his coat waving with the wind to make the moment just that much more special. Has he always been like this? He actually made the effort to defend you, to run after you when you thought nobody cared. He assured you that what you did was the right thing and plans to make you forget what happened today. Did you finally have someone that cared for you?

“Yeah, sounds good”

(A/N This was my first ever attempt at writing so I hope I didn’t flunk it TOO bad. And I’m not all that satisfied with this but eh... I feel bad for having to cut it short, but I actually got requests to do more stories and I’m bad at multitasking so I’m terribly sorry for the precious users that sent me requests and the readers that want a part 2, maybe)

#dabi x reader #dabi #bnha #bnha dabi #mha #dabi x you #dabi x y/n

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