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shaunamilfman · 14 days ago

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the ghost you dressed up as [7]

pairing: Jackie Taylor x Shauna Shipman x r summary: "Things may have gotten a little out of control. Time to deal with a few loose ends." note: GRAPHIC depictions of violence. I'm backkkkkkkk masterlist

You really hadn't intended for things to go as far as they did. It hadn't even been a thought in your mind when you made that snarky little comment about Travis, but before you knew it, the whole school was repeating it. The words had been twisted, exaggerated, and shared through so many mouths that they barely resembled what you'd initially said, but they were undeniably your words.

Mari was definitely to blame for a lot of it–she was always the first to start gossiping, to spread a rumor. You should have known she'd spread that little piece of information all over the school by the end of the next day, but you hadn't been thinking clearly. It was almost impressive the way she stirred the pot just to watch it boil over. You'd handed the ammunition right to her. You shouldn't be surprised at what she's done with it.

It was a knee-jerk response, an irritated quip in response to his stupid little comment. Yet, in just two weeks, he's effectively taken your place as the school pariah. Not that he's seemed to notice much, in all honesty. He walks around with that same broody expression he always does, sneering at all the same people. Maybe he didn't care, in truth. It finally gave some credence to the way he walked around the school like nobody understood him. He finally got that isolation he'd obviously been so desperate for.

You wouldn't wish that on anyone, but he's certainly one of the people that you wouldn't go out of your way to stand up for. You wouldn't say he deserved it, no one did, but you certainly weren't losing sleep over it. You've had more than your fair share of unfortunate run-ins with him while he waited for Coach Martinez to be done with practice.

Then there was Jackie. Your wonderful, conniving girlfriend who jumped on the chance to turn the blame away from you. Shauna was a driving factor in it, but you suspect her involvement has as much to do with protecting you as it does with making Travis pay for insinuating only a man could be the killer. As the one who'd done the majority of the kills, she'd taken personal offense to that comment. So now Travis would have to as well.

You're sure it had started with Shauna simply losing her temper, but Jackie had turned it into something devious. They'd made sure to be overheard talking just a little too loudly about it while waiting for you to get out of class. Everyone knew Shauna tended to stay out of gossip if she could, which didn't bode well for Travis. If even Shauna Shipman was saying something–if she was getting involved in it–then it had to be true, right?

Poor Travis had no idea what was coming for him until it was too late.

You can't find it in yourself to be too concerned about him, especially as Shauna starts to climb over the center console into the backseat with you. The car rocks back with her movements, nearly causing her to face-plant into the floorboards before she manages an ungraceful crash onto your lap instead.

Shauna glares at you, half sprawled across your lap, as you can't help but laugh. She mutters curses under her breath until she fully settles onto your lap.

“Shut up,” She mutters, her usual venom softened by the faint blush on her cheeks and the way her hair falls messily around her face. Her eyes burn with the slightest hint of embarrassment, softening slightly as you reach forward to brush the hair out of her face.

“You good, Shauna?” You tease, resting a hand on the small of her back to keep her from leaving. Sure enough, she almost immediately starts to pull away as the words hit her ears. She rolls her eyes, another irritated huff leaving her lips.

“Do I look good?“ She snaps, but there's no real heat behind it. Especially as she makes no move to try to leave your lap again, how she makes no move to brush your hand away. She stays in place, her head tilting slightly as she weighs the benefits of allowing you to keep her like this.

Shauna's all embarrassed. You grin. The sharp edge of her glare starts to lessen as she watches you.

“You always look good.”

Shauna opens her mouth before promptly closing it, clearing her throat slightly as she looks out the window over your shoulder instead of replying. Sometimes, it's easy to forget that this is the same girl who gutted several teenagers when she acts like this–soft, almost unsure of herself.

You love when she gets all shy when it's just the two of you. You're sure she probably does the same thing with Jackie, but you don't often get to catch Shauna alone. Waiting in the car for Jackie to finally finish getting ready makes up a lot of those times.

She's just Shauna, staring out the window at a loss for how to respond to something as simple as a compliment.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks finally.

You shrug playfully. “You.”

Shauna looks pleased at the answer but quickly shakes her head. “Before, I mean. You were thinking too hard.” The way she says it almost makes it sound like an accusation. Her fingers trail down your arm, stopping by your hand as her thumb strokes across your wrist. It was one of her favorite places to touch you, to feel the fluttering of your pulse just beneath the skin.

You're guilty of something in her eyes, but you can't help but enjoy her intensity. You almost want to laugh–Shauna Shipman, accusing you of thinking too much? Now you've seen everything. She’s so intense as she looks at you, as if she’s trying to read the answer off your face before you even attempt to answer her.

“Was I?” You definitely were, not that you'd admit it. Your mind was racing thinking about everything going on, everything you were going to do tonight. Everything had been happening so quickly lately, and it was a struggle for you to keep it all straight in your head. You wonder if Jackie or Shauna ever had that problem, but you quickly shake the thought off. Shauna wouldn’t care enough to dwell on it, and Jackie wouldn’t think to.

“Maybe I was just wondering when you were finally going to get around to kissing me,” You add.

She watches you for a moment, like she’s debating making you wait. You note the surprised twitch of her lip, the way her eyes flicker down to your lips before she forces them away. There’s something about the way she pretends that it hadn’t been her intention the whole time that makes you feel unspeakably fond of her. Shauna can try to hide it behind jealous accusations, but you know what she really wants. She just wants to watch you squirm first.

“You're lucky Jackie's taking so long.” Her voice is dry, almost amused, but she shifts enough in your lap that it gives her intention away long before she leans in. Shauna’s lips ghost against yours, her warm breath brushing against your skin, before her lips finally meet yours. The kiss is firm, as grounding as always. Her hand cups the back of your neck, holding you in place while simultaneously daring you to look at anyone else besides her, to think of anything besides the way her fingers curl into your skin. She digs her nails in–not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel the claim she’s leaving.

There’s a surety to her in moments like this that doesn’t often surface in other facets of her life. A calmness so unlike her usual intensity that it’s almost a little jarring to look at. Jackie hadn’t seemed all that different from who she presented as and who she was when you first befriended her–what you saw was what you got–but Shauna was something else entirely. A puzzle that she didn’t want solved. You live for those moments when that all-consuming fire within her is just warming to the touch instead of burning, letting you get close enough to really look at her.

She’d hate it if she realized you noticed. It’s a secret that you have to keep, only ever spoken in soft voices when you and Jackie are sure she won’t be able to hear.

Her thumb strokes a spot behind the back of your ear that you hadn’t realized was sensitive until this very moment, and you can’t help but shiver under the touch. The corner of her mouth twitches up as she pulls away, a hint of a smirk replacing her desire as she revels in the effect she’s having on you. It’s maddening, the way she always seems to know just what to do with you. You want to respond, maybe to say something smart in return, but she leaves no thoughts for anything in your brain besides her. It makes you feel so dumb–she always does–but she certainly doesn’t mind.

“Yeah,” Shauna murmurs. “Not thinking about Jackie anymore, are you?”

Was that what she thought you were doing? Poor Shauna, convinced you were daydreaming about Jackie in the backseat of her car. You’re charmed by the thought of her climbing all the way back here just to reclaim your attention. As if she wasn’t sitting up there in the front seat, presumably complaining about the two of you in her little journal in the first place.

“Who’s Jackie?” You ask, almost too innocent. Just enough to tease.

She breathes out a laugh, resting her head against your shoulder to hide her smile before pressing a kiss against the side of your neck. “Cute,” She whispers, barely audible. Shauna lingers there, breath hot against your skin as her hand slides up the back of your neck to fist in your hair as she tugs your head back to look at her. “Say her name again.”

“Jackie,” You say slowly, in that same breathy tone you’d use to encourage her.

Shauna scoffs, tugging at your hair in reproach, but you don’t miss the way she shifts against you as it leaves your lips. She tips her head, her nose brushing against your jaw before her lips start trailing a path down your neck. It’s gentle at first, small little kisses that soon turn into nips, leaving a trail that feels like a brand across your skin. She tilts your head back however she pleases, silently urging you this way or that with a burst of pain. Her other hand slides up your chest to rest against your heart, fingers splayed out possessively as if to claim it for herself.

She nips at a spot just above your collarbone, soothing it with her tongue for a moment before biting down even harder. Shauna squeezes your legs tightly with hers as you try to jerk away, using every bit of her leverage to hold you back against that seat.

“Again?” Shauna asks, but the hint of anticipation in her voice betrays her intentions. She wants it so bad. Wants you to give her a reason to do this, just so she has a reason to sink her teeth in a little deeper, to hold you tight enough to border on bruising.

“Jackie–”

A knock on the window interrupts you, the two of you almost jumping as both look over to see Jackie leaning down against the car, one hand braced beside the window as she gives you a little wave with the other. Shauna immediately starts to pull away, climbing back over into the driver's seat as she unlocks Jackie’s door for her.

Jackie climbs in the car with a wide grin, clearly enjoying the leftover tension as the two of you try not to even look in the other’s direction. She almost kneels in the passenger seat as she leans over to give you a kiss, pouting until you finally lean forward to close the distance. After a moment she pulls away, brushing a stray hair out of your face before she turns around in her seat. Shauna looks over at her expectantly, and Jackie just shrugs.

“Oh, did you want one too, Jackie?” Jackie teases. Shauna goes bright red, turning the key in the engine and starting the car just so she can pretend nothing happened. Jackie goes scrambling for her seat belt, knowing better than anyone that Shauna was about to peel out of here.

…

You sigh as Jackie's lips brush your jaw teasingly, her fingers ghosting over a small mark Shauna's left on your collarbone. You already knew you'd probably end up with a matching mark before the night ended, neither of them completely able to treat marking you as anything other than a competition.

It's not like it's a game you don't enjoy playing–the way Shauna had looked at you when you left a mark on Jackie's thigh on top of hers had featured front and center in your mind for days. That dark, simmering anger–along with a begrudging respect–was enough to tempt you to provoke her a hundred more times.

But you don't have time to think about that right now.

You don't really have time to indulge Jackie either, but you'll make do with what you have. Still, as excited and raised voices sound from downstairs, even Jackie starts to pull away. You can just barely make out the sounds of garbled voices through the floorboards.

“Coach Martinez… dead…”

A flicker of a grin passes across Jackie's face, eyes widening with a delight she can't quite contain.

“... head on a soccer ball…”

She grabs your wrist tightly–whether to ground you or herself, you aren't sure. She squeezes tightly in her excitement, her breathing speeding up as she lets herself get absorbed in the moment.

“…let's go before…”

You barely have time to adjust before Jackie leaves your lap, pressing her ear up against the door to try to make out more of the conversation.

You look over at Jackie with wide eyes at the sound of pounding footsteps and then the door slamming closed behind them. Instead of reflecting your shock, Jackie just looks intrigued and a little flustered.

Freak, you think fondly.

Jackie grins over at you in the cramped closet you're hiding out in, reaching over to grab your mask and slip it over your head. Her fingers linger along your jaw much longer than strictly necessarily. She adjusts it with care, straightening it out till it sits just perfectly before pulling away. You don't have the heart to point out how quickly it'll get messed up when you get down to business tonight.

She slowly opens the door, keeping to a crouch as she peeks her head around to look down from the top of the stairs.

“They're all gone,” She confirms, giving you a thumbs up. The silence of the house seems louder than ever now that the two of you are mostly alone.

Shauna's idea of a distraction had worked wonders, you had to hand it to her. The second it had reached the ears of Jeff's little party, the last of his friends had cleared out to go see the carnage before the police could get it all cleaned up. Just like Shauna said it would. She was probably almost here by now with how long the news presumably took to reach them, but Jeff was left up to you and Jackie to kill. Shauna was mostly the getaway driver in this one.

Jeff was alone up in his house now, having passed out on the couch at least an hour ago from your estimate. You weren't quite sure, but that was about when his obnoxiously loud voice stopped echoing up the stairs. It was a little disappointing after everything to have it be this easy to kill him. He was asleep on the couch, mouth slack and probably drooling. He wouldn't even be able to put up a fight, completely oblivious to everything the three of you had planned for him.

Shauna would've found a way to wake him, you knew. Would've knocked a lamp off of a side table just to get his attention or bumped into a chair just to make the leg screech against the wood flooring. The hunt was so much better than the act itself, at least as far as Shauna's concerned.

Jackie would've too, but that's not surprising: they tend to be more similar than they are different. She likes to taunt them, likes to beat them to all the exits, and watch as the hope leaves their eyes. It's an almost playful cruelty to it all, a slight hint of a smile tugging at her lips while her eyes shine with malice.

Aren't they dreamy?

You had no qualms about killing Jeff in his sleep. Anything to get it over with, to get back home for the celebration. The way they practically fell over themselves to get you into bed after was your favorite part. They're always their most violent right after a kill, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't love that predatory gleam in their eyes as they backed you up against the nearest surface. You're simple like that.

Jackie's hand brushes across your knuckles, quickly drawing your attention back to the moment. Back to her. You know her well enough to catch the look of disappointment on her face, one that you're quick to mirror behind your mask. You know what she's thinking as she glances back out of the closet door without her even needing to say anything.

“Jackie-” You start.

“Please,” She draws out, lingering on the e long enough that you start to get irritated. She squeezes your hand imploringly, her thumb gently caressing your skin. God, you hate when she does that.

“Jackie, no.” You shake your head in an almost pitiful attempt at being firm, but even you can hear the way your voice wavers. It was just so hard to tell either of them no. Usually Jackie would jump on the weakness you've so obviously presented her, but this time is different. Jackie seems to feel bad enough, pity maybe, that she relents.

“Fine,” She mutters with a sigh, not looking at all happy about it. Almost like a child that's just been denied a cookie before dinner. Jackie tilts her head in contemplation, and you can almost see the gears turning in her head. That rarely spells good news for you outside of a soccer field. It means she's found a loophole, or a small chink in the armor she can exploit.

“Jackie…” You warn, but you can already feel your resolve cracking.

“I'll be right back. Don't worry, you've got this!” Jackie plants a quick kiss on the cheek side of your head through the fabric before starting to pull away, like she’s leaving you to finish a group project she never cared about.

I'll be right back? What the fuck does that mean?

“Where are you going?” You hiss, grabbing at her arm. Jackie looks back at you with a feigned innocence that makes you want to shake her.

“Relax,” Jackie says confidently. “I just have a little something I need to do.”

“A little something?” You ask frustratedly.

She just grins, shaking her head. “I have a plan. Jeff’s asleep.” Jackie gestures vaguely toward the downstairs living room. “Just a quick little addition. You’ll be fine!”

“Jackie,” You plead, more exasperated than you feel comfortable admitting. She always has to go and do stupid stunts at the last moment. More likely than not they worked out, at least when it came to this, but it frustrated you the way she set her mind toward things sometimes. You didn’t bother to argue with her, knowing that any real fight wouldn’t stop her anyway.

“I know, I know,” She placates, but she’s already rising to her feet and out the door before you can raise another argument. You grip the knife tighter in your hand, trying to quell your rising irritation before you finally make your way to your feet.

“Un-fucking-believable,” You mutter. At least you could channel that anger into something productive–killing Jeff. The thought of him still lying prone and unresponsive on that couch does little to soothe your nerves. Part of you wanted to watch the realization in his eyes as you sunk the knife into his chest, but it was too late for that now. Shauna has her distraction at the soccer field, Jackie has her addition, and you have Jeff asleep on the couch.

Teamwork with the two of them often felt like trying to domesticate feral cats.

Only, as you make your way down the stairs, Jeff doesn't seem to be on the couch any longer. You couldn't see Jackie anywhere, but part of you already knew it was entirely her fault. You have to take each step down the stairs carefully now, cautiously testing it for a squeaky floorboard that could be your undoing. Your frustration is sharper now, mind racing with every way Jackie could've botched this by waking Jeff up on her way out. She wouldn't have left you here alone with him if she was aware she'd stirred him awake, but that was little comfort now that you were left to complete the job by yourself.

You half expect Jackie to jump out from behind every shadow in the corner of the room, the coat rack looming large in the back of your mind, but you know better. Still, your nerves are high enough that even the mundane feels threatening. You can't help but let your mind wander for a moment, wondering if that was the last thing people felt before Shauna was on them. The thought shouldn't be as exciting as it is.

There wouldn't be a call for this one, you knew. Jackie had told you as such earlier, but you hadn't thought to ask her why. Even now it felt more like their thing than yours, even if Shauna would roll her eyes at you saying such. They wanted Jeff's death to be noticeably different from the others, something to do with making it stand out. You suspected it was probably something to do with setting Travis up now that he made such an easy target for it, so you appreciated being left out of it. You weren't his biggest fan by far, but it left a bad taste in your mouth to think about ruining his life like this.

Oh, you realize suddenly. Jackie was probably off planting evidence or some stupid shit like that.

It wasn't anger, exactly, that struck you at the realization–just a maddening sense that you'd once again been left to pick up the pieces when one of their plans went off the rails. Their thrill-seeking would be the death of you one day. Sooner rather than later at this rate.

You hear the pantry door slam closed, then bumbling hands dropping something to the ground with a loud thud. Jeff curses under his breath, barely loud enough to be heard from the kitchen in the echoing silence of his house. You wonder what's going through his mind as you sneak across his living room. Has he noticed that everyone's left? Or has he just assumed he passed out long enough to miss his party?

He probably did. Always one to accept the simplest excuse.

You wait for him to turn his back–wait for him to present you with an easy target. You'll embellish the story when the two of them ask about it, tell them about the way you valiantly chased him across the house. Maybe you'd give yourself a bruise or two before Jackie returned, just in case. His waking up could be to your benefit if you played it correctly, remembering how disappointed Jackie had been by an unmoving target. It could be fun to guilt trip her just a little about leaving you alone with him. She would certainly do it to you, after all.

Jeff's got his head resting in his hands as he leans against the counter with a groan, disoriented and still more than a little drunk after his nap. You carefully step closer, knife raised above your head in mocking imitation of Shauna. You've only seen her in her element twice now, but there was something a little absurd about watching her move when you weren't the one running for your life. An undeniable grace, but an intense focus that makes her unaware of just how wild she looks.

Jeff turns around suddenly, eyes widening as he catches sight of you looking large behind him. He almost drops the bottle he's loosely holding in one hand, mouth agape. You're both frozen in this moment, his eyes focused on the small holes in the mask where your eyes are. His reaction isn't anything like you were expecting–not fear, not shock, not even anger. There's an almost thrilled amusement on his face that you're not sure what to do with. He's grinning like an idiot, either oblivious or unconcerned by the knife in your hand.

He laughs suddenly, relaxing back against the counter as he gives your shoulder a little shove. It isn't that hard of a push, not something that would usually move you at all, but in your shock it's enough to send you stumbling back into the kitchen island.

Your back hits the edge of the counter hard enough that it takes a concentrated effort not to cry out in pain, already aware of the beginning of a bruise forming from the dull ache pulsing through you. Well, at least you wouldn't have to give it to yourself. One less thing you'd have to lie about when you tell the story. You're definitely leaving this part out. It's getting embarrassing.

“Dude,” Jeff says, eyes alight with excitement. “Where did you get that? I thought they stopped selling the costume after–” He waves his hand around vaguely. “You know, everything.”

You shrug, almost comically, making a show out of holding the knife loosely in your hand.

“God, people would go nuts if they saw you walking around like that,” He says, waving the bottle around to emphasize his words. Jeff laughs again, clearly entertaining himself even if no one else. “Oh shit, wait! Is everyone else still here? You were all in on it, right? Scaring me?”

You watch him for a moment, almost in disbelief, before nodding. The ease at which he's accepted this surprised even you. Whether he's still pretty drunk, or just that stupid, you're not sure. Either way, you have no complaints. The part where he was too thick to realize he was in danger? You'd definitely be leaving that out in your recounting of the night.

You slowly raise the knife before pointing the tip of it in the vague direction of upstairs. Jeff nods eagerly, almost looking like a bobble head as he starts stumbling to the stairs. “Hiding in my room? Smart.”

He stops, hand on the banister as he turns around to look at you with narrowed eyes. Your heart starts to race, beating rapidly in your chest. Is this it? Is this when he finally realizes–

“Someone's going to jump out at me when I get to my room, huh?” He accuses smugly, like he guessed the punch line to your joke before you could finish it. Your jaw clenches beneath your mask in irritation, but you stay quiet. You didn't want to risk him hearing your voice. With your luck he'd immediately catch on. You feel your shoulders relax as the tension leaves as quickly as it came.

You glance down at the ground, as if you were embarrassed, giving him exactly what he wants to see. He just laughs.

“Don't worry, man. I'll pretend I didn't know.” He gives you an encouraging look and a quick thumbs-up, chuckling as he heads up the stairs.

You tighten your grip on the knife as you follow silently up the stairs after him, steps light enough that he keeps glancing behind him to see if you're still following. You wave the knife encouragingly as he turns around again right before his bedroom. A thrill washes over you as he reaches for the door handle, an almost giddy feeling rising in your chest as he pushes the door open to find no one in there.

He glances back at you with a frown, then his face lights up as he reaches for the light switch and walks inside. You stand in the doorway behind him, watching as he slams open the closet door–as if to catch someone by surprise.

“Dude? Where are they?” He whispers, shifting almost anxiously at your continued silence.

“What are you…” He trails off, almost disappointed as you don't take the mask off.

His smile fades as he catches on–finally–just a little. Just enough that his body starts to close off, that he starts to shift to stand just a little steadier as he turns around. Not quick enough, however, to stop the knife from sinking into his back as you lunge forward. He cries out, hand reflexively trying to reach back for you, but you manage to sink the knife into his back another two times before he hits you hard enough with a desperate swing of his arm to send you stumbling back.

Gasping, he stumbles too, hand clutching uselessly at his back where blood seeps out of his wounds. His shirt is already darkening where the blood stains it, the fabric already beginning to stick to his skin. There’s the look of disbelief on his face as he catches sight of his fingertips, his face ghostly as he tears his eyes away from it. Jeff takes a step forward, as if to strike out at you again, but collapses down to his knees as his legs give out beneath him.

Your hands are still raised, knife gripped tightly between your fingers as you wait to see if he'll stand again. The adrenaline pumps heavily through your veins, almost daring you to make a stupid mistake, but you dig your feet in, muscles poised.

His eyes are unfocused, dilated and hazy as he looks up at you. The look of betrayal on his face is shocking, up and until you realize he still thinks you're one of his friends. You're fine to let him think that, in all honesty. His breath comes out in wheezy, pathetic gasps as he leans heavily against the wall behind him. You watch the way his chest moves as he breathes, slower and slower as the blood loss starts to catch up to him.

You tense up as he starts to slump over, but still you wait, watching as it dawns on him that he’s going to die here. This is the end. His lips part uselessly, like he’s trying to form words that will never come to him. It looks like it takes all he has in him to let out a sound barely above a whisper, lost beneath the gurgling of his throat. Jeff’s shoulders slump slowly, whether in exhaustion or resignation you’re not sure, as his head droops forward enough to brush against his chest.

His face slackens, recognition fading in a way that has you sure he’s either gone or close enough that it wouldn’t matter. Still, the hollow look in his eyes catches your attention even as you try to look away. The utter emptiness looking back at you reminds you suddenly of Allie. It had only been a few months ago that you had first looked upon death, but it feels like years ago now as you look back at Jeff with a detachment you never could have predicted.

You wonder if this is how Shauna felt looking down at Allie, but quickly decide it wasn’t. You can’t imagine Shauna not being exuberant as she stares down at the results of her hunt. It’s not that you were upset, but it was something different than the looks you’d seen on either of your girlfriend’s faces.

If he was ever afraid it was fleeting–you try not to focus on how strangely disappointing that realization is. A part of you wants him to cry out one last time, anything to feed that growing numbness inside you, but he remains silent. You’re almost insulted, in a way. Blood pools around him on the floor, slowly spreading out, almost crawling across the floor in a way that’s nothing short of mesmerizing. For a brief moment it looks alive in a way that it could never be.

You cross the distance between you, grabbing a fist full of his hair as you drag his head up. He moves far too easily, limp as you expose his neck. With a deliberate slowness, you drag the knife across his throat, feeling the skin give way beneath the sharp steel. The blood pours down his neck, soaking into the front of his shirt to match with bloodstains already marking his torso.

The metallic scent of blood fills the room as you let go, his body collapsing in on itself like a puppet who’s had its strings cut. It might have been overkill, but that’s something you couldn’t care less about. You could never be too careful, no matter what Shauna would have thought about the subject. The emptiness remains even now that it’s done–a dull ache that staring down at his corpse doesn’t quite fix.

Your head shoots up at the sound of footsteps approaching from the hallway, the knife in your hand raising defensively until you catch sight of the swishing robe in the doorway. Those empty eyes stare back at you through the slits in the mask as she stares down at the body at your feet before giving you an approving nod. You can’t help but grin despite how silly it makes you feel.

Her head turns to the closet, as if half-expecting someone to jump out of it, but it stays empty. She takes a few cautious steps forward, looking around the room searchingly. Finally, she just sighs. She reaches up, as if to pinch the bridge of her nose in exasperation, before stopping suddenly as she remembers the mask. It’s more charming than you wish it was.

“Where’s Jackie?” Shauna asks, her voice a mixture of irritation and inevitability. You just shrug.

“That sounds about right,” She continues dryly, an ever present fondness underlying her exasperation.

#yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x reader #shauna shipman x reader #jackie taylor x reader

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marvellifeforever · 3 years ago

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Jimin x South Asian!Y/N

I’M BACKKKKKKKK

After literally 2 years or something, I’ve written a few things, but I was too lazy and busy to post them, but I thought it was unfair to keep all of it to myself so here I am! I might try and write a part 2 to the Joshua Hong fic that I wrote, but I make no promises. Anyways hope y’all enjoy this one!

(might be loads of mistakes in this one sorry!)

Pairing: Jimin x South Asian!Y/N (anyone can read tho)

Genre: Oneshot - stranger to lovers!au - coffee shop!au - college!au

Rating: G

Warnings: Angstyyy, major character death, fluff at the end because I’m not that mean

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Jimin loses a friend, but gains someone new :)

(You do not have permission to copy this work)

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“Hyung? Are you there? You need to eat something.” Hoseok stood outside Yoongi’s door, he had tried to get him out of his room all week, but it was all to no avail. He got it though. Everyone was feeling off this week, all 6 of them.

“Where’s Jimin and Yoongi?” Namjoon asked Hoseok.

Everyone was moping around and the energy in the apartment was extremely low, trying to avoid the inevitable the next day.

“Yoongi won’t leave his room and Jimin isn’t in his, I don’t know where he is.”

“He could be at the grave.”

“Yeah, maybe…”

It would have been one year on Friday since their close friend had died.

When they got the call from the hospital, they all dropped what they were doing and rushed there. Namjoon and Yoongi were just about to finish lectures, but ran out frantically much to the confusion of their lecturers and other classmates. Hoseok and Jin were in the middle of a theater rehearsal and let the director know what was happening before sprinting out of the auditorium with just their phones and Jin’s car keys. Jungkook ran off the track in record time to get to his motorcycle. All of them speeding on the road like mad men.

They all met together at the hospital at almost similar times rushing inside to get information on where Taehyung and Jimin were.

“I’m so sorry,” The nurse told them, “They were involved in a car crash. Both are badly injured, but Taehyung was the one driving and it seems he received the worst of the impact from the accident. They are both currently in surgery, so we’ll let you know of any updates as soon as they come up.”

They all stayed in the waiting area anxiously. They had all been together as freshmen and now being in their senior year they had developed an unbreakable bond and had become more like family and losing one of them would break them all internally. So they all prayed to anyone or whatever that could be listening to save their friends, even Namjoon a self proclaimed atheist found himself crying out to something, anything that could make his friends be okay.

After 2 hours, they saw someone being rolled out of the operating room. Jungkook was the first to realise who it was.

“Jimin!”

“Is he okay?”

“Is he going to be alright?”

“Where’s Taehyung?”

The boys bombarded the doctor with multiple questions all at once. “Guys! Let him speak,” Jin said and they grew quiet, eager to hear what the doctor had to say. The doctor gave Jin a grateful nod.

“Well, the surgery for Jimin went well and even though he suffered many injuries, he’ll be fine, however, it might take a while before he wakes up.” And all the boys sagged in relief.

“What about Taehyung?”

Yoongi’s quiet but hopeful voice rang out from behind the group.

The doctor sighed.

“He… the doctors are doing the best they can to save him. All we can do right now is hope and pray he makes it through… I’m sorry.”

Jungkook immediately burst into tears and Hoseok tried his best to comfort him, but failed as he was crying as well. Jin finally sat down with a heavy sigh and glassy eyes beside Yoongi who had his head in his hands.

“Can we see Jimin?” Namjoon asked.

“The nurses are still sorting some things out but they’ll call you as soon as you can.”

Namjoon thanked the doctor and joined the boys back in the sitting area leaning against the wall. No one said anything as the thought began to weigh on everyone’s mind. They could lose Tae.

6 Hours Later.

The boys were tired but their anxiety kept them on edge, so when the doctor came into the room they were in with Jimin they all stood up quickly, hoping for good news.

“I’m sorry… he didn’t make it…”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Receiving the news was earth shattering, but it seemed like having to tell Jimin when he woke up was just as bad. His recovery was slowed down greatly due to the fact he wouldn’t eat for days at a time, grief stealing his appetite.

So when the week of Tae’s death came up one year later it wasn’t a surprise that Jimin was scarce throughout the week.

“What about JK and Jin?”

“I think I saw Jungkook moping around like the rest of us this morning, but I haven’t seen him since and Jin is-”

“Right here.”

The eldest walked in with some coffee. “I thought everyone could use some caffeine. Where’s everyone else?”

“Being depressed.” Namjoon said bluntly.

“Well… I’m not saying caffeine will make us happier but…”

“We need the energy, thanks hyung.” Hoseok gave Jin a soft, grateful smile and took an iced americano out of the box.

Namjoon gave a soft laugh watching Hoseok sip from his straw, “Tae hated coffee you know, I bet he’s still scrunching his face looking down on us right now.”

Jin tried to smile at the thought, but only felt pain remembering a fact about his close dead friend.

“Yeah, I bet he is”

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Jimin felt a little guilty not being around the boys right now, but he couldn’t stay in the flat. Everything still reminded him of his best friend and he needed to get out. He had found himself back at Tae’s headstone very often during the beginning of the year, talking to him about his feelings and what was going on at university. He wanted to say he had moved on, but he knew deep down he hadn’t. He gradually stopped visiting the grave realising it was bringing him more pain than anything, so he started to settle for a café that was nearby instead. It was quite small and not many people visited there, which was perfect for him, he needed somewhere where he could just turn off his phone, drink some tea and be. Where there were no comforting words from his friends, no one constantly checking in if he was eating and no one looked at him with pity knowing he had lost his best friend.

Best friend.

Taehyung was more than that though. He was Jimin’s soulmate. They weren’t dating, it wasn’t a romantic relationship, but your soulmate doesn’t always have to be your romantic partner. It was deeper than that. They understood each other. They knew what made each other happy and how to get under each other’s skin. Taehyung had been there with him since the start of high school and they hadn’t separated since and the thought of losing each other never occurred to them. When Jimin was alone, Taehyung would be there right beside him. When he was sad, he would comfort him. And even if they were both mad at each other, Tae would drop everything for Jimin if he needed his help. They were partners in crime often getting scolded together after a prank by their elders. When Jimin had his first time, Taehyung was the first person he told and they celebrated by getting drunk off a cheap bottle of wine Taehyung had bought for the occasion.

Jimin didn’t realise when the tears started to fall when suddenly…

“Excuse me Sir? Sir?”

Jimin looked up to see You, who looked around his age. You weren't the one who took his order, he’d have remembered. You had beautiful brown skin and wavy black hair, you looked South Asian. He hadn’t seen many foreigners around this area in Seoul, so he was a little shocked, but considering how dead he felt inside his surprise didn’t register on his face.

“Um.. I saw that you were crying and brought some tissues and another cup of strawberry tea with a brownie.”

“I didn’t order that.”

“Er… I know, but when I’m sad I think it’s nice when others go out of their way to do something nice for me.. S-so I just… Thought you mig- I mean I can take it back if you do-”

“No… It’s fine. Thank you.”

You smiled warmly at him with your brown eyes, bowed and returned to your post.

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Taehyung’s memorial was small. They all dropped some flowers at his headstone and headed to Taehyung’s family home where a meal was held for everyone, with the boys, a few friends and family. Jimin felt hollow throughout the whole day and eventually the depressing atmosphere got too much for him.

“I have to go, thank you for the meal eomma.”

The boys exchanged worried glances as they saw Jimin leave. Jungkook tried to get up to stop him, but Namjoon held him back.

“Let him go.”

Jimin drove round and round the city until he found himself at the café. He didn’t know how he ended up there and he checked his phone, the time was 01:00 am and he had 6 missed calls and 12 unopened messages. He left them like that and entered the café, it opened 24/7 and thankfully it was empty. The bell rang alerting the lone self that someone had entered.

It was you. The same girl that had given him an extra cup of tea and a brownie,.

“Good morning! Or is it night? I never really know how to greet people at this time. Anyways sorry for rambling, what can I get you?”

A ghost of a smile graced Jimin’s lips as he ordered the same thing as last time and went to take a seat at the back of the café.

“I didn’t order a brownie.”

“I know, but you somehow look even sadder than yesterday, so I thought you might want another one, I mean if you don’t wa-”

“Thank you.”

“Rough day?”

Jimin gave out a humourless laugh, “You have no idea.”

“Well my mom always used to say when things seem like they’re never going to get better, eat something chocolatey and you’ll feel fine again.”

Jimin looked at you slightly amused. “Yesterday was one year since my best friend died.”

Your mouth hung out slightly open, “Oh my God I’m so sorry, something chocolatey definitely can not fix whatever you're feeling right now.”

Jimin laughed a little at this. “No, it definitely won't”

“I’m so sorry if I’m intruding, I’ll get out of your hair.”

You started to turn around when Jimin called out quietly.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind the company.”

“Are you sure?”

He gestured at the chair opposite him and you sat down.

“What were they like? If you don’t mind talking about them of course, If you’re not comf-”

“It’s fine. He was… Special.”

Jimin didn’t know why he was talking about his dead best friend to you, this random foreigner, but what he did know was that it kinda felt… good. Everyone around him already knew Taehyung so it was nice telling funny and even sad stories to someone who didn’t know him. In turn he found out that you, who he soon found out was called y/n, shared many similarities with Taehyung. You were still very different from him obviously. However, You seemed a bit more outgoing and lively, but shared Taehyung’s love for art. You seemed to have a more casual fashion style compared to Taehyung’s lowkey sophisticated style, but you also seemed to have an amusing dislike for coffee which seemed ironic since you were working in a coffee shop. Jimin found himself talking to you until the end of your shift. He spilled out his heart to you and found out so much about you as well. Jimin couldn’t remember the last time he had opened up to someone like this. He refused to entertain any relationships after Tae had died and put his all into his dance degree. But he realised at 6am in the morning he didn’t feel as empty as he did walking into the café 5 hours ago.

“I could drop you home if you’d like?”

“Are you sure you’re not some creepy murderer, just trying to kidnap me?”

“I think I could have done that 3 hours ago before the customers started coming in.”

You weren’t sure why you trusted him. Maybe because no one who is grieving is that good at lying or maybe it was the fact he was the prettiest man you’d ever seen and whenever he smiled at you, your heart fluttered. You pretended to contemplate for a few seconds and smiled at him, “True. Sure I would appreciate it,” And he smiled back.

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Taehyung watched Jimin drive y/n home with a sad, but satisfied smile. He had done the best he could by pushing y/n to offer Jimin a brownie and nudging him to talk to her and hopefully he would finally after a year be able to move on with his life. That’s all Taehyung wanted for Jimin. For him to finally be happy again.

#bts #bangtan #bangtan boys #jimin #jimin fic #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #park jimin #park jimin fanfic #jimin headcanons

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