#I try n write in my journal and it’s So Hard to trace my day | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bangtangalicious · 3 years ago

Text

death valley (m) | part 8

summary: welcome to death valley. once you’re in, there’s no telling whether you’ll make it out alive. a summer internship turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize

pairing: ot7 x f.reader smut ft: jin x reader, jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader

genre: smut. yandere. mystery. thriller. gang!au rockstar!au fightclub!au

wordcount: 9.0k

warnings: reader discretion advised. rough sex, physical roughness, sadism kink, pain kink, breast play, fingering, elevator sex (semipublic), praise kink, dirty talk, unrealistic endurance (this is one day LMAO), attempted fire play, bondage, guns, attempted shootings, knife play if you squint, spanking, degradation (name calling, slut shaming, being really mean lolol thanks jin), crying kink? lot of crying, toxic and manipulative behaviors, jin steps on you so there’s that, character death, heavy drug use, paranoia/fear, voyeurism, sex while intoxicated, me trying to put some humor where i can, sweet dom!jungkook, wild dom!jin, and a sprinkle of dom!taehyung ;) ALSO eyebrowpiercing!jungkook. very important.

a/n: s/o soowoozoo!bts for being my inspo.

F L A S H F O R W A R D--

Goosebumps spread across your skin as the silence set in. The room was chilly, air conditioner buzzing in contrast to the slick humidity of the summer night waiting for you outside. The white light made your eyes ache, the walls were plain, dry, empty.

You stared blankly at the table in front of you. The sound of the pen scratching paper made you ache, remembering kinder days when you and Hobi would be goofing around and writing songs. How did you get here? How did you let this happen?

The previous night, you had dreamt of being at a concert, somewhere far from Death Valley. Losing yourself to music and molly, a soft pair of hands on your hips as you danced the night away, singing at the top of your lungs. Those same hands wrapping around your waist, nose tracing behind your ear to whisper to you how pretty you were. How hot you looked and how badly he wanted to tear your clothes off with his teeth.

You allowing him to pick you up so easily, take you back to his car where you scrambled into the back seat. Like children. The first kiss was magic, you were glued to him and could barely move on. He wouldn’t leave you for a second, he wouldn’t let you breathe. Your lips were hot on each other, soft moans and giggles. Swallowed smiles as you drank one another in, bodies like waves crashing against each other.

Hands wandering until he had you where he wanted. Where you wanted. He loved you down so incredibly good. How he was able to tear you apart while still being so sweet, you could barely even fathom. His teeth dug into the flesh of your breasts, fingers hooking around your panties.

His tongue ravished your figure. There was no part of you left untouched, no part of you that wasn’t completely ablaze with arousal. You would arch your neck back as he lapped away at the sweetness dripping between your legs, your hands combing through his wavy black hair.

His tongue knew where to go, he knew how you liked it, and your fist clenched as he fucked you with his mouth through and through. He always made sure you came first. Always. Every single time.

Whether you had mere minutes or long hours, he loved the way you tasted, making sure you knew that at every chance he got. Sloppy wet kisses traveled up your stomach to your chest, up your neck, hands caressing your ass, scratching your back, holding you close for a moment.

You were whisked away into heaven, just briefly, as his thick cock would push into you. Your pussy pulling him in, wanting to feel the familiar but oh so incredible stretch that only he gave you.

Taehyung. You sobbed as he fucked you, allowing him to kiss the glossy tears off of your cheeks as he rolled his hips, angling so perfectly to nudge deep within you. His sinister grin, his giggles, his chaos. You were in the hands of disaster but you never felt more safe.

Why are you crying dumbass? He would find your state amusing, continuing to fuck you, thrusts long and smooth. Quick, but slow enough for you to savor each second. Your whining lost behind the wet sound of your bodies colliding.

Where are you? Are you watching this right now? You’re not really dead are you?

Stroking your cheek, he leaned down to whisper against your mouth. The words he would keep on saying, echoing back to you. Play along. I won’t hurt you.

What exactly you were playing, you were unsure.

“Look at me” Your eyes darted up to meet Jin’s deceivingly innocent eyes. “I’m gonna ask you again, did you kill Kim Taehyung?”

You gulped, sweat collecting onto the cold handcuffs around your wrists. Jin glanced at the mirrored wall, before letting out a heavy sigh.

“It appears that Kim Taehyung was murdered about two hours before the party. We found your gun near the body.” Jin holds up the custom weapon Yoongi had given that was unmistakably yours. “Where were you at that time?” You felt your eyes getting heavy.

“I was” You lips were chapped, mouth clammy with a bitter taste. You looked him dead in the eye, stomach sickened by the amusement glistening within them as you struggled with your response. You knew he was getting a kick out of it. You wanted to spit on his face. You wanted to slap him, to scream, to flip the table and break out of the windowless room that caged you.

“I was with...y..” Jin smirked, leaning back. You cleared your throat, mind running a mile a minute.

“With who Y/n?”

You glared at him. He was treating this as some sort of role play. You felt queasy at the thought. Someone was dead. Dead.

“You. I was with you”

F L A S H B A C K--

The morning rays slid through the expansive glass wall of the hotel room, causing Yoongi’s eyes to flinch, squinting as they opened and took in the day that presented itself. He sighed heavily, the weight of the previous night still on his mind. You were still asleep, but he could see through the chaffing beneath your wrists that you were not comfortable. He took the leash and fastened it to the headboard, ensuring you had no escape.

Grabbing his keys, Yoongi quickly got dressed in a white hoodie and left the room. He needed to find out the truth for himself. He couldn’t afford to have you lying to him already.

It was so frustrating to him that you couldn’t just be honest with him. He had been immensely open with you even if he was not proud of what he had to share. Why would you hide things? Hadn’t he proven himself to you? Hadn’t he done everything to win your heart?

Yoongi sighed. His anger issues were core to his being. It was part of his true self, but he had spent years trying to become someone you would fall in love with. All he wanted to do was make home in your heart, but no matter how many of your suitors he ended up threatening, beating to a pulp, and forcing them to bail on you, there was nothing in his power that could tear down that goddamn Park Jimin poster on your bedroom wall.

There was nothing he could do to stop you from writing small fantasies in your journal that you kept stashed in your bedside drawer.

Yoongi would be lying if he said he didn’t come close to killing Jimin multiple times before. But he realized that would not have delivered him a solution. If Jimin died, you would mourn. You would still harbor that love for him and never have an opportunity to see what he really was. It was because of this Yoongi, with Taehyung’s helpful insight, had orchestrated a way to destroy Jimin in your eyes.

Jimin was then introduced to Yoongi’s two weapons of destruction, Taehyung and cocaine. Yoongi worked hard to build himself up as a successful music producer. He had to be better than Jimin, had to make sure he could offer you everything Jimin could and more.

To his surprise, you did move on from Jimin, at least the reality of him. But this fantasy of who he used to be remained pinned to your heart. After Jimin quit music, the mention of his name would still cause you to blush and smile. It made Yoongi want to throw up.

You had to see for yourself. Yoongi learned what it was that attracted you to Jimin and embodied just that. You liked that you had to chase him, you liked that he didn’t give a shit about you. You liked that he never noticed you and you had to pine for his attention. You liked that he was dedicated to his music, you liked the lifestyle he was associated with. You liked his lack of emotion and fantasized of him showing his true colors to you and only you, a sensitive, sweet, charming guy. Anger was not a part of this persona at all.

When he felt like he had driven Jimin crazy enough with the drugs, he decided to plant rumors on stan twitter that Jimin would be signing with his label. Using his personal relationship with the singer, he was able to sign him on. He conveniently then offered you a summer internship, knowing full well you would be coming for one reason alone. Park Jimin.

Yoongi wanted you to fall straight into his arms. He rented out every available apartment for the months you were searching for a place to live, forcing you to reside in his building. He wanted to win you over naturally. He wanted you to work with Jimin, hook up with Jimin, and end up loathing him. Loving Yoongi instead.

Jimin’s gang activity was getting on Yoongi’s nerves. Taehyung told him Jimin was in Death Valley, that you saw Jimin at Death Valley. When Yoongi heard from you, not Taehyung, that you had been kidnapped, along with Namjoon nonetheless, Yoongi had enough. He was used to giving Taehyung plenty of unsupervised jurisdiction, so Jimin’s accident was not a surprise to him.

But you sympathized with Jimin, which was not what he wanted. He then decided to take things into his own hands, threatening Seokjin into throwing the fight to leech Jimin of every cent he had. He broke into your apartment, fucking everything up so that you had no choice but to come to him. To need him.

And when Jin didn’t lose, he had no choice but to reveal to you who he was. Even after all his honestly, all his trust, you still lied to him.

Yoongi was furious. He arrived at Death Valley, using the front entrance. Pulling a mask over his face, he barged in, surveying the silence as a sign that the bar was empty. Through the kitchen he arrive at the back storage room, accessible only by key, where all of the surveillance had been set up years ago.

Monitors were spread across the wall, but Yoongi’s eyes narrowed in at one that was coming up with no feed. Your apartment. Someone had fucked with the cameras. Yoongi types away at the main monitor, enlarging your apartment footage and reeling back to find the moment the device was destroyed.

He sees Taehyung, whispering something to you. Next thing he knows the stream is blank. He grits his teeth, as all the pieces fall into place. He was a fool. How could he have been so blind? Taehyung must be in love with you. He must have, after watching you for so many years. Yoongi scowled at the thought of the ways Taehyung may have seen you, naked, vulnerable, ways that only he should.

He had trusted Taehyung. Taehyung had only ever shown interest in money and Yoongi thought that was enough. Taehyung must have fucked you over and over again once the cameras were dead. What a whore. It made sense then that he had cut the line through his branding on you. He was the only one who could have. He had access to you and he was psychotic! He must have forced you to lie. You wouldn’t ever hide anything from Yoongi, no, Yoongi was the man of your dreams. You felt grateful that you had him, didn’t you?

He tilted his head, cracking his knuckles before he punched the glass screen, causing the feed to go haywire and sparks to erupt. Kim Taehyung. You are dead to me.

Yoongi growled lowly before picking up his phone. “It’s me. I need to see you. Now”

Hobi kept his hand on the small of your back as he led you down to the hotel bar. The two of you nodded politely at the staff members who were busily preparing for the big event. The bar was empty aside for a few guests enjoying their brunch-time mimosas.

Hobi couldn’t really revel in the fact that the two of you were getting drinks together, almost like a date. His mind was too caught up in the initial shock he felt when he saw you tied up in his boss’ bedroom. He felt upset, but moreso he felt violated. He wondered if you were getting taken advantage of. Did he promise you a promotion? Was he manipulating you?

Punishing someone like that, Hobi was never one to kink shame, but it seemed a bit much. The name burned into your skin did nothing to ease his concern. Someone who was possessive, violent, impulsive. It reminded him of...

Hobi didn’t know. He didn’t know who gave him orders. He really didn’t care once the cash rolled in, but it began hitting too close to home. He wasn’t thrilled about hurting Namjoon, but two duffel bags of cash were enough for him to momentarily set aside his morals.

“What should I get?” You surveyed the small menu of cocktails. “What’s gonna fuck me up the fastest?”

Hobi snorted, “Tequila” He twirled your hair as your gaze remained glued to the menu. The thought of you being in danger upset him greatly “Y/n...when did Yoongi brand you?" You called the bartender ordering a line of shots to which the they glanced at the clock before giving you a weird look.

“The night of the rematch” You told him, reacting before you realized what you had said. Your lip tucked between your teeth as you tried to conjure an excuse. A row of shot glasses was placed in front of you. You took one, gulping it down before letting out a heavy sigh. The bitterness burned down your throat. You basked as the liquid hit your mind, easing you slightly.

“Yoongi was at the fight?” Hobi recalled the wild night that the three of you had been at Death Valley. It was the first time he ever saw the man giving him orders. The man was tall, broad, had dark hair and wore dark clothes, face covered in a mask. Could it have been...Yoongi?

“Y/n!” The two of you turned to see Jungkook approaching the bar. He had changed his hair, the blue swapped for a short black cut, and you couldn’t help but double take at his new eyebrow piercing.

You downed another shot, glancing at Hobi who had raised his eyebrows seeing the drug dealer. Jungkook gave you a light hug, waving timidly to Hobi. You smirked, another shot down the hatch. “Easyyyy Y/n” He placed a hand on your back as he slid into the seat next to you.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Hobi sneered. Jungkook rolled his eyes, used to the condescending treatment of gang members. "Didn’t you get stabbed or something?”

“I did!” Jungkook grinned, “In fact, that’s exactly why I’m here. I think I figured out who Mr. Bossman is, and I wanna fucking kill him”

Hobi rolled his eyes, “Oh really”

“Kim Seok-motherfucking-Jin baby. He stabbed me. He’s the one who showed up and threatened me to move out of Y/n’s apartment, so he’s probably also the one who called for the kidnapping. And he might have called for Jimin’s accident. It makes so much fucking sense”

Jin did what? There was not enough alcohol in your veins to act like you didn’t fully understand what he had just said. Jin had Jungkook move out? It wasn’t impossible. And that’s what scared you. You blinked at Jungkook incredulously, “But he’s literally a police officer”

Jungkook’s grin widened, “Exactly! It’s fucking brilliant. He’s a cop, he fights for the other side. He wins no matter what and can never get caught. No one would ever suspect him. Winning despite being threatened? Who threatened him huh? It’s a fucking ploy. You’re not dead and neither is he I bet. Kingpin. Boom”

You felt sick, knowing that Yoongi was not the only person you needed to be worried about. It was almost funny how blatantly misinformed Jungkook was. “Wow you guys are idiots.” You muttered under your breath, taking another shot before coughing roughly. Should I tell them? Why did Jin lie? Is this even the truth? Jin always tried to pin things on Jungkook, but you defended him. Hearing his words now made your head spin. He’s lying. Jungkook is lying. You wanted to scream, frustration flooding through your veins as you clenched your fists.

“I’m gonna tell Jimin and Taehyung what I know. They will give me so much money dude.” Jungkook chuckled, “And then they’d kill him, oh God finally”

Hobi pursed his lips, mouth feeling dry as he reflected on Jin’s eerie words before he shot him in the leg. He didn’t know where Jin was anymore, handing him off to be taken somewhere. It didn’t make sense. His orders were to seize Jin if Jin won the fight. Why place an order like that all? Why do any of this?

“Y/n, come with me.” Jungkook tugged at the sleeve of the oversized Nirvana shirt you had thrown on after your shower session with Hobi. You giggled, the thought of Taehyung coming into your slowed thoughts like a hurricane, tearing up any understanding you thought you had of the situation. There was only one thing you believed. Only one thing you knew with full certainty and it was all you could hold onto.

“Oh my goodness it’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. It’s always been Yoongi” The words spilled from your lips like the tequila that dripped down the side of your lips as you took yet another shot, giggling like a ditz. Jungkook and Hobi exchanged confused looks with each other, only making you laugh more. “I would fucking know okay!” Your laughs grew loud, “I was locked up in his fucking apartment and where the hell were all of you huh? Dumb fucking idiots!” You buckled over, laughing into Jungkook’s chest.

“Jungkook” Hobi sighed, “I gotta get back to work. Can you get her sober please?” Jungkook nodded. He held your waist tightly helping you stand, walking with you carefully to the hotel elevator.

The laughter wouldn’t stop. Passerbys shot the two of you dirty looks as Jungkook pulled you into the elevator easily. Through it’s glass walls you could see the midday skyline, where outside people hustled through life as if everything were normal. Must be fucking nice. “Y/n” Your laughs began to choke in your throat, turning instead to the sobs you tried to suppress with whatever will you had left.

Jungkook placed his soft lips on your shoulder. Hands sliding onto your waist as he peered at you curiously, “Y/n, is everything okay?”

You shook your head, the elevator door closed as tears began forming in your eyes. Your voice croaked, “I’m dead. He’s gonna kill me. T..taehyung is gonna kill me. I...I know he will. He’s everywhere. Everywhere.” You looked around frantically, suddenly feeling hyperaware of the security cameras littered throughout the public space. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone...I” You hiccuped. Jungkook pulled you into a tight hug.

“It’s okay ssh” He stroked his thumbs them across your cheeks, cupping your face affectionately. “I’m here aren’t I?” You sniffled, nodding lightly. “I got you okay. No one is gonna hurt you”

You stared into his kind brown eyes. You did not trust him, your entire body was screaming at you not to trust him. His fingers danced down your figure, freely gliding over your heaving chest, desperately trying to breathe with the fear that choked you from within.

You blinked at him, eyes glancing down at his pouty lips before finding his eyes again. “Y/n” Jungkook whispered, barely inches from your lips. “I won’t let anyone hurt you okay. I promise”

Fat tears rolled down your face at his words. Jungkook clicked his tongue, cooing at you as he continued to wipe away your hears. “Oh you poor thing” He held you to his chest, kissing the top of your head, before tilting your face up to his.

He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as his lips landed on yours, swallowing you into him. The taste of tequila was evident on your lips as he kissed you softly, and you allowed yourself to surrender to his warm touch.

You felt heat pooling in your chest as his fingers trailed up your legs. He traced circles into the inside of your thighs, letting his fingers tease the edge of your shorts.

“Jungkook” You inhaled sharply, his hot breath tickling your neck as you tilted your head back. He licked his lips before sloppily latching onto your collarbone, sucking down to litter your skin with wet kisses as his fingers slid down your shorts, just barely so that he could roll his hips into you.

He pushed you back against the glass, fingers trailing across your bare thighs before sliding beneath your panties. Jungkook ran a finger over your clothed folds, making you clench down.

“Y/n” His voice sounded equally as desperate as yours, barely audible over the sound of his heavy breathing. “Fuck I missed you” You gasped as his fingers slid under the fabric. He pushed a finger in, allowing your tight cunt to accustom to it before adding another finger not long after.

His other hand slid beneath your shirt, pushing your bra up so he could run his thumb over your nipples, his touch featherlight, leaving you breathless. You rolled your eyes back in pleasure, bucking your hips up as he slowly pumped you with his fingers.

“That’s it baby, just like that” He whispered, lips pressing into your neck. You let out a shaky moan as his fingers quickened, pumping in and out of you as you latched onto his shoulders. “Look at me. Look right at me baby”

He brought his lips over yours, just brushing them across your skin so he could gaze deep into your eyes as you fucked yourself onto his fingers. You cried out his name as the friction began to overwhelm you. His fingers easing you right where you needed them, pleasure searing through you as he watched your every move.

"So good for me” He pulled his fingers out, doused in your sticky arousal before he placed them into his own mouth. Your eyes widen as he licked of every last bit of you and smiles. “You taste so fucking good baby”

He kisses you again, harsher this time as his hips roll against you. Your fingers grip his hair as he pulls down his sweats, allowing his cock to spring out.

“You want my cock?” He ran his tongue over your lips, tugging at them slightly as he stroked his cock. You could feel his hand moving between your legs. “You want my big cock in your little pussy?”

You gulped, nodding as Jungkook looked down, lining his tip against your folds, pushing in only slightly before meeting your eyes again. “So warm and wet for me, fuck” He pushed in further, groaning as you spread your thighs wider, allowing him to thrust as deep as he could. He stilled briefly, kissing you again “You take me so well baby fuck. So fucking tight for me. My pretty baby” He stroked your face, thumb pushing into your mouth slightly.

“Does it feel good?” He mumbled, pulling out just slightly before rolling his hips back into you. He picked up a rhythm, fucking you deep and slow, hands clawing at your breasts.

“Yeah...feels really good” Your eyes fell shut, enjoying the fulfilling pleasure of his movements. He pulled your shirt up, burying his face between your breasts as he continued to fuck up into you.

“Mmm yeah I bet” He pushed your bra up, allowing his fingers to pinch you nipples. He took one into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around the small bud as he began to suckle you, looking up to your face and enjoying your reactions. “You’re so fucking pretty you know that right?” He sucked on your breast harshly before leaving it with a soft kiss and moving onto the other. “So perfect for me”

His thrusts quickened, driving you up the wall as his hands fell to your hips. You burying your face in the crook of his neck as you felt your high approaching. “Jungkook...I’m...”

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s voice was raspy with lust, “You wanna cum baby? Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, wanna hear you make those pretty little moans when you cum”

You cried out with every thrust as he pushed you over the edge, and you felt your pussy burst with pleasure as you came, the sloppy sounds of your arousal echoing through the small space. Jungkook groaned as the hot liquid covered his cock, allowing him to slide in and out of you with ease.

“There you go. Good girl. Good fucking girl, just like that” He gasped, feeling his cock twitch slightly, buried deep in your cunt, “Want me to cum inside you baby?” You nodded, whining slightly, “Yeah? You want it baby? Huh?” Jungkook’s hips thrust furiously at you, and he cupped your face, bringing his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes as he came. “Want my cum? Want me to fill you up baby?”

“Yeah. I want it. Jungkook please,” Your whiny voice was enough to have him spurting through you.

“Holy fuck” Jungkook buckled over, holding you tight as cum shot out of him, filling you up and leaking out onto the floor.

He pulled out of you quickly, pulling up his sweats while you fixed your own clothes. Sweat painted his forehead as he looked at you, panting with a big smile on his cute face.

“I missed that” He confessed, pulling you back into him by the waist. He knelt down and pressed his lips on yours, letting his hands slide to your ass and squeeze them softly.

You heard a familiar ring as the elevator door reached it’s destination. You jumped away from Jungkook, unable to get far as the strong boy’s hold on you remained steady.

"I see stabbing you once didn’t really drive home the message huh Mr. Jeon Jungkook”

You felt goosebumps spread as you heard the sinister tone of Jin’s voice. He stood leaning against the elevator as if he had been waiting for you, twirling his knife around aimlessly between his fingers. “Too bad, I unfortunately can’t kill you yet” He turned to you and winked, “Both of you come with me”

Sweat trickled down from Namjoon’s neck, his eyes glued to the tattered punching bag in front of him. His muscles were still sore, bruises still spattered across his bare chest. He didn’t care. He was sick of feeling helpless. Under the dim lights of the boxing gym, he pushed himself, another hit, more force, ignoring the pain shooting through his limbs with every strike.

“Don’t overdo it” Namjoon rolled his eyes at the sound of the familiar voice. “Last thing you want is to get injured again” He turned to the sound of loafers echoing across the concrete floor.

“What do you want Yoongi?” Namjoon sneered. The producer smirked slightly, patting the punching bag playfully before pacing around Namjoon.

“I’m gonna kill Taehyung, and I know Jimin is gonna break hell. I need you to protect Y/n for me. Can I trust you, Namjoon?” His voice was stern.

“Man, fuck you Yoongi” Namjoon groaned, “I put my life on the line for you constantly and you still have to fucking ask? Promise me. I want out after this. Promise me a record deal”

Yoongi shrugged, “Okay fine. I’ll sign you. Don’t let her out of your sight.” Yoongi inhaled sharply, “And I swear to God Namjoon if you even think about touching her, you’re dead to me. And I will know if you do.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, lips parted, desperately trying to catch his breath. “Yeah okay. Just get me my fucking record deal”

Yoongi pursed his lips, pulling out his phone and handing it to Namjoon. “Paperwork is ready. You have one job. Don’t fuck up again” Namjoon clenched his fist as Yoongi chuckled in amusement. “I have some business I need to deal with personally. Keep her safe Namjoon, please”

You gagged, a puke-ish feeling clogging your throat as you coughed out. Your head was throbbing with pain as you squinted against the gleaming lights from the chandelier above your head. Glancing around, you realized you were back at Jungkook’s place, large dark wooden floors adding to the ambiance that just screamed rich in your face. The plushness of his large bed evident beneath you.

You get up slightly, peering across the room where you see Jin handing a large duffel bag to Jungkook, whispering something into his ear. Jungkook nods eagerly, shaking Jin’s hand before exiting. He turns back to you, smiling as he realizes you are awake.

“Hey party girl. Recovered from our little day drinking session have we?” Jin chuckled. You scowl, searching around you as your throat desperately demanded water. Jin handed you a glass. “I just got Jungkook caught up, but you and I need to have a little talk”

You exhaled before emptying the entire glass down your throat. “I know everything” You scoffed in spite, “I know everything you did, you fucking maniac”

Jin smiled wide at the term, “I know. Jungkook told me you think I was behind all of the stuff that’s been going on, stabbing him and kidnapping you. I mean,” Jin laughed, a tinge of condescendence in his voice, “You don’t actually believe that do you? Like, seriously how dumb are these guys. At least you’re smart”

You frowned at his tone, unsure of how to respond. Jin raised his eyebrows at your silence before continuing, “Oh come on Y/n. Use that little brain of yours hm? What the hell would I be gaining from all this? It was Taehyung.”

He extended you a hand, helping you out of the bed and pulling you up to stand before him, “What did he tell you huh? That he’s Yoongi’s friend or some shit? Taehyung doesn’t give a fuck about Yoongi. And I know you know about him screwing over Jimin. He’s trying to take over both gangs, not just Jimin’s, and he’s been lying to you this whole time.”

The bargaining chip. “What do you mean?” You followed the flat echoes of his footsteps down the hallway into the same office that you had Jimin tied up only a few days ago. You suppressed a smile as you noticed the curtains were still torn.

“He’s distracting Jimin and Yoongi with you. He wants them to get up against each other so that he can sway the gang loyalties towards him by showing that their leaders priorities are off. Look here” Jin motioned towards a laptop on the large desk, playing security footage of what appeared to be Death Valley’s parking lot, where people were loading bags of cash into what could have been Taehyung’s car. “He’s robbing them. And you know what else Y/n? When he’s done with all of this, he’s gonna kill them both.”

No. No way. Betrayal stung you as you process Jin’s words, “You’re just a pawn in his game. You were bait. He just needed to you get Jimin and Yoongi to fight amongst each other. And you let him, didn’t you?” Jin chuckled, patting your cheek. “I know he kept telling you that you could trust him. That he wouldn’t hurt you. It was bullshit Y/n. This man only cares about one thing. Himself”

You thought back to the first night you laid your eyes on him, back when his hair was a faded green, his sweaty tan skin contrasting his dark leather jacket. The look of familiarity in his eyes and the gleam from his diamond studded watch. You were a fool. He strung you along.

“Where is he?” You growled, “I wanna hear it from him. I wanna ask him myself”

“Absolutely. In fact, if you’re up for it, I was wondering if you would be down to do another little mission for me” Jin winked at you. You scowled, folding your arms over your chest, “If we don’t kill him first, he’s planning on killing Yoongi tonight before the party. I know because I got him to let me in on his little coup” Your heart dropped, “You don’t want that do you?”

"No” You blurted.

“So let’s kill him first. Come on, let’s go get you dolled up for this party”

As you left the office, you couldn’t help but notice a familiar figure standing at the other end of the hallway.

Namjoon? Your eyes locked with his. He pressed a finger to his lips before pointing at Jin and shaking his head. What is he trying to say. Namjoon seemed to have a warning look in his eyes. You simply shrugged at him, before running down the hall to catch up with Jin.

Namjoon exhaled, watching from a window as Jin and you drove off, likely heading to the hotel. Looking at his palm he saw the way his nails left imprints in his skin from how hard he was clenching his fists. Namjoon wasn’t necessarily a fan of Taehyung, but he knew a thing or two about him from Yoongi. Taehyung would never kill people. He was averse to it for some reason, Namjoon always thought it was ironic for him to be a gangster given that quality. Taehyung could torture anyone, threaten anyone, but he didn’t have it in him to take a life.

Which meant that Jin was lying to you. Namjoon never liked Jin. Even aside from all the hits he had taken from the strong man, he always felt something was off about the guy. He feels uneasy about what he had just seen transpire, and decided to go find Yoongi.

“Do you want some coke?” You were in the middle of washing your face when Jin walked in with a bag of powder. “I could use a hit, I don’t know about you”

“Oh hell yes. Thank you” He poured out a line on the bathroom counter using a quarter, watching with a small chuckle as you inhaled the drug, nose pressed against the cool marble. You sighed, wiping your nose and flashing a big grin in the mirror “Damn. I needed that. I didn’t know that you use”

Jin bit back a smirk, “I do.” He poured another line on the same place, this time taking a hit himself. “A lot”

“Oh. Officer Jin is a druggie like the rest of us huh” You teased. Jin poured himself a gin martini, taking a sip, eyes alight with amusement. “Does that turn you on ever? Do you ever have a hottie cuffed up and they’re like please Officer does that..you know..turn you on?”

Jin’s eyes widened at you “Not any hottie, no. Now if I had you cuffed up saying that” He chuckled, pulling you to him by the waist “That’s a whole other story” You pushed him away playfully.

“What?” Jin said mockingly, “Don’t remember that night where I gave you the best orgasm of your life?” His traced his lips up your jaw, and you could feel his smile against you.

“Wow. Cocky are we?” You raised your eyebrows. “I’ve had some pretty good sex in my life. Hard to say if that was the best”

Suddenly, Jin pulled his knife from his back pocket, glancing in the mirror as he traced the blade across your neck just enough for you to feel the sharp cold metal glide on your skin, pinching without actually making you bleed. “Don’t even lie. You loved fucking me. Don’t you remember? How fucking wet you were?” His breath was hot against your lips, but it was the look in his eyes that had you weak in the knees.

Taking his knife, he slit clean down your shirt, tearing it off of you to reveal your bare chest. “On the floor slut” His whispered, flirty demeanor now shifted into something dark. Something feral.

You gulped, taking care to slide your bottoms off, not wanting him to slice them up before lowering yourself down onto the tiled bathroom floor.

Jin set the knife aside, pulling out his lighter and setting in on the counter before shedding his own clothes, even he kicking off his shoes. He lifted his foot, and you watched with a curious gaze as he placed his foot on your chest. He kept the weight off of you, much to your relief, and you couldn’t help but feel absolutely filthy as he rolled your breasts under the sole of his foot. You had never done anything like this. It seemed so dirty, but felt so good.

“Oh my god Jin” You gasped as he switched onto his other leg, taking his foot and shoving it into your mouth, watching in amusement as you gagged over his toes.

“Look at you. On the fucking floor. Naked little whore. Letting me do whatever I fucking want.” He removed his foot from your mouth, letting you catch your breath before you looked up at him with quivering eyes.

He felt blood rush to his cock at your expression. Licking his lips, knelt down, climbing over you to gently trail his fingers where his foot had been moments ago.

“And you love it” He sneered, letting his nails dig into your breast, “You love the pain don’t you you fucking slut?” When you didn’t answer he grabbed your jaw, pushing his fingers into the edge of your mouth. “I asked you a fucking question”

“Y...yes” You exhaled. You felt his fingers tease your clit, teeth tugging on your lobe as he laughed darkly.

Jin reached for the martini glass “Turn over” He growled. You found yourself with your breasts pressed flat against the floor, Jin’s cock pressing into your ass. You gasped as he poured the drink onto your back. “This is gonna burn. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl. I know you are, you let Yoongi do it so I can too”

“Wait what” Jin pressed your face down with one hand while the other grabbed his lighter, “Jin. Hold on.” Your voice rose in fear, which only turned Jin on more. He watched as you writhed under him, trying desperately to get away. “Jin seriously. That’s not funny”

“Shhh. You can take it” He cooed, flicking the flame on he slowly lowered it to your skin, bringing it nearer and nearer to the doused skin. You yelped as you began to feel the concentrated heat. Your entire body was petrified. “Enjoy it baby. You like it. You love it. You let Yoongi do it so why can’t I?”

“Jin. It’s not you, I'm just not ready for something like this please” Jin cocked his head aside in irritation, stopping the lighter before it actually touched you and tossing it aside. “I didn’t let Yoongi brand me he just did.”

Jin stilled momentarily. “And you still love him? Even though he did that?”

You didn’t answer. That alone was enough for Jin to rage. He slammed your face back down, the blow giving you a dizzying sensation that hat you getting wetter by the second.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled, “How can you love someone like that?” He pulled your face up, bending you back until you were flush against his chest. “I don’t want any of them touching you again. You understand me?” He let go, giving you whiplash as you fell back to the floor. “Ass up. Now” He spanked your ass hard, causing you to yelp. The stinging pain vibrated to your core. You couldn’t help but love every second of it.

Jin knew that you were scared of him, he could feel it. He could also see the way your thighs would clench whenever he did anything to you. You were his favorite drug. He was going to ruin you.

He grabbed his belt from the pile of clothes on the side, “Hands under” He demanded, rolling his lip through his teeth as you obeyed him right away. He took the belt tying your wrists to your knees under you.

He took a moment to admire his work, your shivering body all his for the taking. You had no where to run. He had you now. “Who gives it to you the best him?” Pulling you towards him by your thighs, he didn’t care that your knees would burn against the smooth tile as he lined his cock up with your folds. He spat down, a glob of saliva landing on your ass before he used his cock head to rub it all over you. He could hear your shaky breath, your whiny moans that made him want to fuck you even more.

He slapped his palm onto the curve of your ass, bending over your to growl into your ear “Filthy whore. You disgust me. You let them all just do whatever they want to you, don’t you have any fucking self respect?” He could see his words were hitting close to home. You pursed your trembling lips as Jin smacked you again in the same place.

“When will you fucking learn huh? This pussy” He reached his hand to harshly cup your cunt, shoving two fingers inside you without warning. “This pussy belongs to me. You’re mine. My cockslut whore” Taking his fingers out, he shoved them into your mouth “You taste that? That how desperate your needy little cunt is for me”

Your legs were strung together, making it all the more painful when he finally began to push his cock inside you, using his fingers to scissor you open so that he could get deep inside you. His length pushed against your tight walls, your cries and curses only motivating Jin to push further.

“Who owns this cunt huh?” Jin pulled your hips back, burning your knees each time as he pulled you on and off his cock. Your ass slammed into him with each blow.

“You do. Holy fuck, you do” You gasped, practically screaming as your whole body ached with pain and pleasure.

“That’s right baby” He pinched your clit, making you yelp as he flicked at it, pounding into your relentlessly.

“J..Jin” You mumbled, lips still half pressed on the floor, “Jin please. Feels good” Jin scoffed, “Gonna cum...gonna cum” You inhaled loudly as you felt your high approaching. Your eyes clenched shut as he edged you closer and closer, fingers furiously attacking your clit until he stopped.

You let out a loud sob as Jin yanked you up by your neck “You really thought I would let you cum whore?” His grip tightened, cock twitching at the way your voice sounded choking, the water streaming from your eyes and the drool at the edge of your lips. He kissed you, licking it all up in the process.

“Look in the mirror. Look at how pathetic you are. I want you to remember the only person who’s ever gonna let you feel this good” You looked at your reflection, seeing only your faces and the way Jin’s nails dug into your neck. He pushed you forward so that your chin was on the countertop. You coughed out, watching as he resumed his thrusts, punishing your clit with the jarring movements of his fingers.

You screamed, pleasure crashing over you in a wave of tantalizing heat. You gushed onto his cock, tears falling from your eyes due to how overwhelming the sensation was. Jin continued to whisper filth right into your ears but you could no longer hear anything. Your vision became hazy, not minding the blow when Jin shoved you back onto the floor and pounded you to his own release.

On the other side of the wall, Namjoon leaned his head back and sighed, glancing down to see his cock in his hands, now completely covered in cum.

Taehyung chewed on his gum nonchalantly as he paced around the luxurious hotel, checking out all the fun features. The pool deck was nice, the lobby exquisite, and his favorite part, the cafe, smelt delicious.

Yoongi had asked to meet him in his suite. On his way there he ran into you, and you knocked his breath away. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight you looked elegant. It was such a surprising contrast to your usual getup, but you looked amazing. He was about to tell you just that when he finally registered the hurt look in your eyes.

“You liar” You slapped him with everything you had. Taehyung backed away in surprise. “How could you use me like that? Over and over again. I trusted you. You were really the only one I thought had my back. Without a fucking doubt” You lunged towards him for another hit but Taehyung held your wrist firmly.

“What are you talking about? When did I use you?” Taehyung looked around frantically, “Calm down okay, let’s go somewhere and talk this through.” Your eyes flared in anger.

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! You’re gonna kill them!” You screamed. Taehyung squinted, noticing the slight redness in your eyes. He sighed in understanding, pulling you by the wrist into a corridor.

“Y/n. Breathe. Tell me what’s going on” Taehyung attempted to calm you down but you were enraged. “And what the fuck are you on?”

Admittedly, you and Jin had ended up doing many more lines of coke, perhaps even molly, you were no longer sure, but you washed it down with the bottle of gin, finding it unprecedentedly hilarious that Jin liked to drink gin martinis.

“You used me! To fuck with Jimin! And Yoongi! You lied to me! Everything you said was a fucking lie, everything you did, every stupid word that came out of your stupid mouth was a lie! You just want power. You’re selfish, and...and...you’re gonna KILL them” A dramatic gasp left your lips, Taehyung almost laughed, “You’re gonna kill Yoongi. I...I can’t let you do that”

You pulled out your gun, cocking it and pressing it against Taehyung’s chest. He instantly put his hands up. “Y/n. Y/n stop. That’s not true okay you’re not thinking straight. Don’t do something you’ll regret”

Your hands trembled around the gun “You’ll kill them. You’ll kill them both...I can’t let you do that”

“Hold on!”

Too late. You pulled the trigger.

Hobi wandered through the parking lot looking for his car. His eyes narrowed on a familiar vehicle, thinking back to when he had loaded the drug money from the last fight.

So. Is that guy Yoongi then? The one I kept seeing? Hobi wandered over to the car. Peering inside the passenger window, his eyes locked on a small item on the floor of the car. He squinted to read it, it appeared to be some sort of credit card.

He stepped back, realizing what the name on the card was. He glanced around before taking the end of his gun and ramming it into the door handle. The door creaked open, allowing Hobi to swipe the card up. He slid it into his pocket, before hurriedly returning to the hotel.

Namjoon’s eyes widened as he watched you pull a gun out on Taehyung. He had been thoroughly entertained as you yelled and slapped him, knowing full well that you were high out of your mind.

Namjoon couldn’t understand Jin’s plan at all. He had eavesdropped on everything so far, as per Yoongi’s orders. Why would Jin ask you to kill Taehyung, why wouldn’t he just do it himself? He knew you would hate yourself if you actually killed him.

He had also been thoroughly disappointed at how easily Jungkook had bought into Jin’s agenda as well. The things people do for money. Namjoon sighed, realizing that he was pretty much acting on similar motivations.

You were ready to pull the trigger, and Namjoon was almost certain you wouldn’t do it, until he saw your finger begin to curl. He ran towards the corridor as fast as he could.

“Hold on!” He yelled, but it was too late. Taehyung’s eyes flew shut.

Namjoon blinked, not hearing the familiar gunshot sound. You looked equally confused, glancing down the barrel of your gun. Taehyung let out a shaky sigh of relief, sliding down the wall.

“It...was a blank” You mumbled. Namjoon rushed to your side, pulling you away from Taehyung. “What the...what was I just about to do?” His heart clenched as your lips parted in shock.

“Taehyung are you okay?” Namjoon asked. Taehyung nodded, clearly shaken up but managing to get a hold of himself.

“What the fuck is going on?” He growled, “Who gave her a gun? And who gave her drugs while she had a gun? Fucking hell”

Namjoon stroked your back as you let the gun drop to the floor, the weight of your actions finally hitting you.

“I’m so sorry. Taehyung I...” You looked into his eyes. Those eyes that always left you questioning what was really going on in that pretty head of his.

“Yeah. Jin fucking fed her some interesting stories about how you’re using her. At least I hope they’re just stories” Namjoon peered at him. “I’m Namjoon by the way, we haven’t officially met”

Taehyung shook his hand “Hi Namjoon. I heard you make pretty decent music” He chuckled ironically, “Y/n, I need you to tell me everything Jin said. There’s been some sort of misunderstanding, I promise you I wasn’t taking advantage of you.”

Namjoon made a face, exchanging a glance with you as you nodded slowly. Namjoon was not entirely sure he should believe Taehyung. He supposed it wouldn’t matter, when he knew that Yoongi was planning to kill Taehyung anyways. The more information he had, the better he could at least keep you out of trouble.

P R E S E N T D A Y--

Security escorted you and Jimin out immediately as the media broke into a frenzy trying to figure out what had happened. You had hoped your acting skills had convinced him.

After Taehyung sobered you up slightly, the three of you had sat and schemed. Using everything the three of you knew, you were able to figure out that it really was Jin behind Jimin’s accident, your and Namjoon’s kidnapping, as well as Jungkook’s attempted murder. He was able to do all of this using Hobi’s help, but Hobi seemed not to know that he was receiving orders from Jin.

The question remained how and why.

“I know you’re not going to believe me. So I have proof” Taehyung pulled his phone out, pulling up a recording of Jin tied up somewhere.

All I ask, is that when the dust settles, Y/n is mine. And I get to kill them. My way

You felt queasy seeing his earnest expression through the film. Namjoon’s jaw clenched, recognizing crazy when he saw it, wishing he could have knocked the guy’s brains out beforehand.

“Listen to me. This guy is dangerous. I don’t really understand why he’s doing all of this. He said he wanted to help me, but clearly there’s some other motive here. Otherwise he wouldn’t go behind my back.” Taehyung muttered.

“The only way to know what he wants is to see what he does next” Namjoon pitched in.

You glanced between the two men, feeling weirdly relieved that you finally had some solid answers. Having Namjoon by your side after so long was the best thing you could ask for at the moment, and you clung to him, hands wrapped around his arm tightly. He thought it was cute.

“Let me fake my death. Let’s see what he does.”

The drivers took you and Jimin to the precinct. You looked around for Namjoon but he was nowhere to be seen. Your eyes met Jin’s briefly as he signed some paperwork. He winked at you.

“Can I have the body taken to get an autopsy report please?” You weren’t phased by this. Taehyung had said he had enough contacts to make it truly believable that he had died. Jimin’s face was void of emotion as he watched the stretcher go past with the body on it.

You left the hold on his hand, your blood running cold as the body nears you. It was loosely covered with a white sheet, but the arm hung out limply from the sight.

That watch. That’s his watch.

Jimin pressed his lips to the top of your head, sliding his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him “You okay babe?”

“I...no yeah, I’m just shocked” You stammered. You looked up at him, allowing him to place a loving kiss on your lips.

Jimin felt for you, he really did. He himself was generally an emotional person, it was not something he ever tried to hide. But he always felt like his emotional energy was valuable. He didn’t feel the need to cry. Not for Taehyung.

Jimin stroked your back softly, “It’s scary, I know. I know baby, but don’t worry” He licked his lips, eyes briefly meeting Hobi’s from across the room. Hobi gave him a knowing look.

“Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon”

ᐊ——[ previous ] series navi | masterlist | [ next ]——ᐅ

a/n: WOOHOOO. the fun is really gonna start now. did you miss yoongi? don’t worry, he’ll be back. drop your theories in my asks! who killed taehyung? what’s jin’s deal?

smut pairs are up for next week! poor oc, she really needs to eat some food. yikes.

see you then & thanks for reading <3 happy juneteenth!

taglist: @imluckybitches @gee-nee @missseoulite @hcneybees @kooookie @queenmasterxx @crustycaitlin @virgo-and-libra @un2-verse @winter-melontea @equivocacies @infernal-alpaca @shrimpmsg @meowmeowyoongles @rjsmochii @liltangerined @littlrmills14-blog @issysor @arandomblackgirl @adoringinsanity @giadalin @jeontier @kaithezaftig @jinssexytoe @nonnis97@minyoongiboongi @happygirl62304 @just-me-and-myselfs @purplepebbles @channiespup @lilacdreams-00 @kianam @thmrdrs @kpoppin-mel @namjooningelsewhere @lolzerss @planetsope @ohmykim @xyahrinx @bangtan-army @you-are-my-wind

617 notes · View notes

jarofstyles · 3 years ago

Note

yes yes! please continue the CEOrry! SO GOOD

Of course 😎

If you enjoy this, check out our Patreon!

——-

Harry never imagined himself in a situation like this.

Pining after women wasn’t something he did often. They usually threw themselves at him and he either had his fun for the night, or rejected them. He didn’t think too much of their feelings, or their interests. He didnt hang on to their words as they spoke and write notes into his personal journal about things she likes and dislikes.

The list so far?

Likes:

-orange cats

-caramel coffee

-the summer rain smell

-the colors pink and yellow

-quesadillas

-crochet tote bags

-silk eye masks

-thrift stores (especially with shop cats)

Dislikes:

-chocolate orange flavor combination

-overcast days

-bowler hats

-the mailman (unknown reason)

-popcorn kernels

-in n’ out (bad experience, apparently.

She was overtaking his own personal life. Being his assistant, of course she would be more prompt to being deeper than more employees. But he couldn’t help but pick out red ties more often because she complimented him in the color. She had gotten him a refrigerator magnet in Ocean City when she went for a girls weekend, and it was the sole magnet in the small water fridge in his office. She left traces of herself in his life that he couldn’t possibly ignore.

The most invasive and troublesome being his sex life.

He was getting to the point where he couldn’t get off without thinking about her. About her voice, her touch, the smell. His tiny, filthy and shameful snippets of when she leaned on his desk and he had caught a nice glimpse of breast, or the couple times she had bent over and given him an eyeful of her tiny panties and ass… how her dress would cling to her or the time she had accidentally soaked her white shirt with her water bottle and given him a view of her braless chest by accident…

Yeah. Every time he wrapped his hand around the thick shaft of his cock, it was a fantasy of her. The best orgasms so far in his life, only to be rudely awoken by the fact it was all fantasy. So what the fuck was it going to be like if he got his hands on her?

Y/N, unbeknownst to him was in the same boat. Smitten with his snarky comments, his thoughtfulness not many saw, and god, his beautiful face. It wasn’t lost on her that his gentleness was only to her. She had seen him yell too many times at other people and as soon as she would walk in, his tone would soften when directed at her. She got away with a lot more than others did and it did make people… talk.

They talked all about how she must have slept her way into the job. Placed bets on how long it would take her to get fired for not dropping to her knees fast enough. And while it wasn’t everyone, she did overhear it enough to make her upset. Hell, she wished she was getting dicked down by her boss, bur she wasn’t! And they still had all of the nerve to say it just because she had managed to stick around longer than the others. Understandable, Burt hurtful.

Harry was stuck, really. He knew that he either had to ignore it or make a move. But still, he was unclear about if she was actually into him- or if it was just wishful thinking. She was so kind to everyone, and he really wasn’t warm and fuzzy. His feelings were probably a bit more obvious, he thinks, and she hasn’t made a move. Was it because there was no reciprocation, or because they were at work?

He would need to figure it out.

“Y/N?” He called out to her desk which was outside of his. Another thing that had changed was his door staying open during the day more often. He liked to hear if anyone came up and was flirting with her, if he was being totally honest with himself. He had caught it a few times and that unholy possessiveness reared it’s ugly head. Plus, it made it easier to call to her.

Y/N perked up, standing up and striding towards his door. Upon his instruction of closing the door and coming closer, she did. Her mind went to mush though, because he looked…. So fucking good. With his hair slightly messed up for once, his white button up a bit tighter than normal around his biceps… she felt weak and dazed simply looking at him. His powerful aura was so, so sexy.

“I need help with a project after hours.” He was winging it. Completely and utterly winging it. “I’m redoing my den area in my home… and I’d like you to help me do it. You’ve got design experience, yes?” He crossed his arms, trying to not stare too hard at anything other than her face. It was hard.

“Oh- I’m, yes? But I’m not too good, I just make those Pinterest boards like I showed you? I was just planning and-“

“Good. I liked when you showed me them. My home is very boring. Sterile. And I would like some more… character.” In reality, it was just going to make him go insane even more at home. Seeing her in his living space. Things she picks out in his living room. It was so stupidly dangerous for their professional relationship considering how close Harry was to jumping her bones, but he wanted time away from the office to see if he was imagining her flirtations.

She was overwhelmed by the offer, but couldn’t say no. Not when it gave her an excuse to see him… in potentially casual clothes, and feeding her nosy imagination for his house. Plus, she loved to decorate. What could go wrong?

“O-okay, sure. When would you like me to be doing this?” Her voice raised in pitch, showing her nerves slightly. Adorable. He loved getting reactions out of her.

“Some hours during the weekends. You will be compensated and fed, of course. And I will be with you. We will do the shopping wherever you see fit. But you know me. I am very particular, so I wish to be involved in this process. The most I can be.”

Weekends. Alone with his assistant that he wanted to make his own so badly that he had to clench his fists to avoid grabbing at times. The assistant that had been the main star of his fantasies, the assistant that made his palms sweat and heart race.

He was interested in seeing how it turned out.

#ceorry #ceo harry #harry styles one shot #jarofstyles #blurbs #blurb #writing #harry one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #fluff

387 notes · View notes

colorseeingchick · 4 years ago

Text

Special Cuddles Headcanons (Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki)

All Cuddles are special!!! But some are more special than other if there’s a bigger emotional link behind it, so here are some headcanons for those types of situations hehe

A/N: Headcanon writing perplexes me for NO REASON so I’m so sorry if this is not how headcanons work OAISDNFOWI

Warnings: slightly suggestive? Aged up regardless (they’re all pro heroes)

Midoriya Izuku

Cuddling with Deku is by far the most frequent form of physical affection you guys share.

Usually, you would be tucked up against him, with his arm around your waist while you who lean against his shoulder.

And you two would usually read a manga, scan his journal, or just watch videos together like that.

It was a major source of comfort for both of you.

But sometimes you wanted to be closer to him.

If you both came back from training or patrolling and were exhausted, you would usually just want to watch anime together and just relax.

Deku would probably be on the couch before you, waiting for you.

And seeing him itself just made you put your guard down a bit.

When you would arrive you would pull his legs apart (which would, of course, get him really flustered).

“Wha-what are you doing Y/N??”

But you were too tired to actually mess with him, so you just turn yourself around and plop down between his legs.

Your back would be resting against his chest.

And you would tug his arms around your stomach so he could hold you tight.

Once he realized you weren’t trying to do anything more than cuddle, he would settle into the hold.

You would stroke his arms that were wrapped around your stomach or use a thumb to stroke his knees that were on either side of you.

He would rub your belly on instinct and would press kisses onto the side of your head and face.

He would also whisper sweet nothings and compliments into your ear.

“You’re so cute, Y/N.” “You work so hard, baby. You deserve to rest.” “Is this comfortable? Do you want me to adjust?”

In your relationship, Deku always wanted to protect you. But just as much as he wanted to keep you safe, you wanted to keep him safe as well.

He definitely fell in love with you when he saw how strong and resilient you were.

But that also came through in your relationship at times, in that you tried to stay strong even when you weren’t feeling like it.

So when you would cuddle with him like this, where you were entirely wrapped up in his arms and completely vulnerable, and he could feel your breathing-

This was his favorite thing in the world. And his favorite way to be with you.

You would just stay like that for hours, eventually falling asleep in his arms.

BONUS: sometimes you would wake up and he would still be awake watching TV holding you.

And sometimes, if you were really feeling it, you would rub up against him “in your sleep” and watch him stutter, blush, and feel his grip around you tighten (the poor baby was worried you were doing this entirely subconsciously and feared waking you up if his body *reacted*).

Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou loved being the dominant one in the relationship, constantly being the one showering you in affection.

When you two cuddle on the bed, he’d always pull you onto his chest so he could hold you. And you two would talk or fall asleep like that.

Or at least, that’s the image he would usually want to project.

The truth, though- is that he’s one big cuddly baby.

Bakugou will NEVER admit it. He also refuses to initiate it.

But you could also read him well enough to know what he wanted/needed.

If he came back from his agency really frustrated, or even worse sad, you knew what to do.

You would sit up in bed, and when he came through the door, you would beckon him to come to you.

He would then try and sit next to you, but you would pull him so he would be directly in front of you.

“What.” He would stare you down with an intimidating glare.

But you see how much your boyfriend was hurting inside.

“Come here.”

You pull him forward by his face and kiss him, stroking his cheeks.

At this point, he would let all his sadness out.

You would pull him down onto you, so that he was on top of you this time.

His arms would happily encase you and your legs would wrap around his

He would nestle into your chest (if you have boobs, he IS using them as a pillow)

You would rub the back of his neck and run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp as you did so

You could see the goosebumps rise up on his neck and arms.

And you lightly run your fingers over the sides of his arms so it tingled and made the chills worse.

Extra points if you can get him to shudder.

He would glare up at you, but his face would still be buried in your chest so it would just be cute.

After that, you would close your eyes too, letting one hand rub his head while the other traces “I love you” onto his back, passively humming.

With this much soft affection, this man would knock OUT.

You were his safe space and biggest source of comfort.

And no matter ‘weak’ or soft he may have been on bad days, you would never make fun of him for it.

Even better, you wouldn’t mention it. You knew that it would only make him defensive or insecure.

So those moments of pure vulnerability and intimacy would continue on as a shared secret between you two, always present when you looked at each other, love shining in the back of your eyes.

BONUS: Bakugou would go an extra mile to hug you tighter, tease you more, and cover you in bites and kisses the nights after he received special cuddles from you.

Todoroki Shoto

Cuddling for Todoroki was always a special occasion.

You guys would cuddle on the weekends usually, if you guys could somehow get a day to spend at home (Todoroki half-lived at the agency).

During this time, you guys would take turns being the big spoon.

Todoroki liked it. He loved it, actually.

Physical affection made his heart flutter, and the warmth he got from you made even his own flames pale in comparison.

He wanted to be closer to you in any way possible, but he was also really sensitive to physical contact.

It could get really overwhelming because of his past experiences.

So he would be really nervous to ask you to initiate it, cuz he also didn’t know how he would react to it.

Until one day he did, while you guys were cuddling, him spooning you.

“Y/N.” “Yes?” “Can I be closer to you?” “Like, physically?” “Yes.”

You giggle, because it was such a Todoroki question.

It was innocent, obvious, yet genuine. Everything you loved about him.

You also were aware of his sensitivity, so you knew that pinning him down or pulling him onto you would probably give him a heart attack, so you proceed with that in mind.

Loosening his grip around your body, you wiggle your way around so you are now facing him.

He looks at your eyes wide and unmoving.

You then wrap your arms around his body slowly, so he could process what you were doing.

Closing your eyes, you softly pull yourself forward, your forehead pressed against Todoroki's.

When his hands grip your waist and lower back to pull you fully against his body, you open your eyes to stare directly into his hetero-chromatic ones.

You think it's wonderful until you realize-

"Shoto, why are you not… breathing??"

This boy had been holding his breath, and you could tell because his chest wasn't moving against yours, but his heartbeat was aggressively hammering against his rib cage so hard you could feel it.

"I was worried I would be breathing on your face and it would cause you discomfort and make you let go."

That was the last thing he wanted right now. This was everything he craved.

It was like a hug, but better. your face was level with his now. Your body was entirely pressed up against his, both of you were pulling each other close, and your legs were intertwined. Best of all, he got to stare into your pretty, pretty eyes.

But somehow, it wasn't invasive. Probably because of the way you went about initiating it. It was heaven to him. He didn’t want it to end.

You giggle once more before saying, "I don't mind you breathing on me, Shoto. I'm more concerned about how tight you can hold me-"

As a response, he squeezes your waist, pulling you tightly against his abdomen.

"-so just relax, love. I'm not going anywhere."

You two would then proceed to talk, sleep, or stare into each other's eyes, just like that.

BONUS: This way of cuddling became more frequent for you two as Todoroki got more acclimated to the contact, but Todoroki soon realized you wouldn’t want to cuddle that way for too long because it got really hot.

So one day, before he laid down next to you, he stripped his shirt off- and you obviously freak out.

He had an undershirt on, but STILL- AHHHHHHHH

“Just so my clothes don’t make it hotter while we cuddle.” He said it so nonchalantly and clearly didn’t understand why you were freaking out. Oh Todoroki.

2K notes · View notes

mctherofdragons · 4 years ago

Text

Little Black Book | D. M.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Genre: FLUFF!

Request: “could you write a draco x slytherin!reader where they both have a crush on eachother, but they think the other person is into someone else? like draco with pansy or reader with some other character” from the lovely @minty-malfoy <3

Trigger Warnings: Cussing

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

Draco Malfoy furrowed his brow at the cauldron in front of him. He added the last ingredient and watched jubilantly as the ivory smoke spiraled upward. You watched as he leaned forward, taking a small whiff of the potion. He gasped quickly, his cheeks beginning turning a ruddish red. You looked over at him and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

He hastily placed the lid onto the Amortentia potion with a loud clang. You sighed, feeling a little twinge in your heart. It no doubt smelled like Pansy Parkinson. “Perfect, pretty, put-together Pansy Parkinson,” you thought to yourself. You knew that the reason Draco was flushed was because the familiar scent of broomsticks, cinnamon gum, and cherry lipgloss had invaded his senses. You secretly desired that he had smelled you instead - lavender shampoo, mint, and a touch of morning coffee.

“Does it smell like Potter?,” you jested. Draco glared at you before cracking a smile.

“Careful, y/l/n.”

You gave him a toothy grin, going back to flipping through your textbook. “What does yours smell like?,” he asked curiously, secretly hoping it smelled like apples, hair product, and vanilla. You leaned over the cauldron, gently taking off the cover. You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes. It felt as though you were bathing in the scent of the boy next to you and you drew back.

“Well?,” Draco asked curiously. You swallowed hard, trying to figure out the best lie to tell in the moment.

“Oh, um, I...it smells like honey...and...grass,” you blurted, turning back around to stare at your book.

Draco felt his heart sink, peaking up at you behind his lashes. You were busy distracting yourself with packing up your bag as he watched you longingly.

“Of course she didn’t smell you, you bloody idiot,” he thought to himself defeatedly, thankful for your professor calling an end to the class.

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

That evening, you sat curled up on a green velvet chair in the Sytherin common room. It was always a lucky occasion when the common room was empty. It allowed for time to relax with nothing but the sound of the crackling fire to keep you company. You sipped a cup of peppermint tea and absentmindedly flipped through a copy of Witch Weekly. A yawn washed over you, which allowed you to stretch a bit and settle down more comfortably in your chair. You looked up from the article you were reading about a Beauxbatons’ pastry recipe when you heard the door creak open, disturbing the silence.

Draco and Pansy came stumbling into the common room, chuckling about something Draco must have said in the hallway. Pansy giggled, playfully placing a hand on Draco’s chest. You felt as if you were watching the interaction in slow motion, silently longing to be in Pansy’s place. Her blithesome smile made your eyes fill with jealous tears, although you were too prideful to allow them to spill over.

You quickly gathered up your things, polishing off the rest of your tea. You shuffled past the two, ignoring the way Draco’s head turned on a swivel when you brushed his shoulder. Heading out into the hallway, you rushed as quickly as you could back to your dormitory. “Why am I crying over Draco Malfoy?,” you cursed to yourself, feeling relief once the door slammed behind you. You sniffled a bit before wiping your eyes in annoyance. “He’s just a boy. A stupid boy at that.”

Knowing it would make you feel better, you climbed up onto your bed and pulled out your diary. Your method of getting out your frustration was often through writing letters - of course, letters you’d never dream of sending. You had written angry letters to your professors and even inspirational letters to yourself, all of which you burned immediately in the common room fireplace. You flipped to an empty page and grabbed the quill next to you. The words flowed easily now as you let a few tears drip onto the paper. Your sentences had no real beginning or end, nor did your care about making a whole lot of sense.

‘Dear Draco,

I wish I could tell you what you mean to me....that you’re charming, and handsome, and perfect in every way. I want to tell you that I am captivated by your smile, your eyes, and every last inch of you. My potion smelled like you...Did yours smell like Pansy? I’m sure it did. If I had the chance, I’d kiss you right in front of everyone. I know it’s stupid but I really do fancy you, Malfoy. I just wish you’d fancy me back.’

It was written in the same way your thoughts of Draco often graced across your mind - jumbled and disjointed. You closed the tiny black book and placed it into your backpack, reaching over the shut off your bedside light. You snuggled deeper under your soft, wool blankets, secretly thinking of the Slytherin prince as you drifted off to sleep.

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

Draco Malfoy sat at his dormitory desk, sipping slowly on a cup of tea. The sweet drink warmed his insides. He was grateful for this as he was often coldest at night. He pulled the blanket over his shoulders and continued to write, sighing as he felt all of his pent up emotions ease. He wouldn’t admit it aloud to any of his friends, but he kept a diary. It had always served as a way for him to process the difficult parts of his day, protecting him from having to share too much with other people.

Tonight, he wrote unabashedly about how he felt for you. He wrote about your hair, your eyes, and the way his Amortentia carried your scent. He gushed about dreaming of kissing you for hours and hours, leaving very little to the imagination. After seeing you rush out of the common room, he felt an unwavering sense of dread, thinking perhaps you couldn’t even stand to be around him. Thus, he put down in black and white all of the sickeningly sweet ways he thought of you. It occurred to him that maybe if he spilled his heart out on to the parchment, he could stop being so damned enamored with you.

His eyelids started to become heavy, so he slid the small, raven-colored book into his knapsack. Turning off his lamp, he slid beneath his covers, allowing himself to drift into slumber.

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

Final exams were fast approaching and the entirety of Hogwarts was in a tizzy. Between Defense Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies, there was far too much information to digest and far too little time to do it. You and several others from your house shared a long table in the library, your papers and manuals spread out in front of you. Reading furiously, you had lost track of the time, along with Draco, Pansy, and Blaise.

“Oh bloody hell, we’re going to be late for DADA,” Pansy cussed. She stood up to quickly shove her books into her bag. The remaining three of you jumped up, jostling your belongings into your bags as quickly as possible - which is why neither you nor Draco noticed when two tiny black books got swapped.

You all jogged off down the hallway, your robes flowing behind you as you desperately hoped to not be late to class. Unfortunately, you didn’t make it in time, rushing in through the door just as Snape had begun to speak.

“Nice of you to join us, albeit late. 10 points from Slytherin, each.”

You sulked as you slid into your seat, pulling your parchment and quill out to begin taking notes.

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

Later that afternoon, you found yourself sitting on your bed. You had finally finished reviewing for your classes and figured a much needed break was in order. You got up and padded over to your tea kettle, flicking the water on. Just then, you heard a tiny knock at your door.

Unsure who would be coming to visit you, you walked over and stood on the other side. “Who is it?,” you beckoned, not wanting to open the door for just anyone.

“Malfoy,” the voice on the other end replied. Your stomach did an immediate flip. You opened the door, coming face-to-face with a red faced and anxious looking blonde on the other side. He held up something in his hand and you felt like the floor had just given out under your feet.

“Is this yours?,” He asked sheepishly, extending a hand to give it back. You snatched it quickly. The sound of your heart pounding echoed in your ears. A feeling of dread washed over you and you couldn’t stop your hands from beginning to shake.

“Did you r-read it?,” you choked out. You sent a prayer up to Merlin that the answer would be no.

“Yes.”

You let out a tiny gasp and your lips began to tremble.

“Hey, hey,” Draco whispered, allowing himself to walk in the door. He closed it behind him, reaching out to take your hands. “Don’t be upset. Believe me, it’s alright, y\n,”

You pulled away, turning around in embarrassment. “I’m n-not upset! I’m fucking humiliated,” you sniveled. Draco knew about how much you liked - no, at this point he probably assumed loved - him. He had read the inner workings of your heart. Every thing you had penned about the boy was now knowledge he possessed. You wished you could just dissolve into the floor and disappear forever.

Draco sighed, walking over to your backpack. He reached in and pulled out a different journal. You had no idea that his book had been in your bag the entire time, given that you thought it was yours. He sauntered back over to you, pulling you by the hand to sit down on the bed.

You looked at him confused as he opened the journal. He handed it over to you, allowing you to peruse it. You began to read, your jaw falling slack. “Y-you...is this about Pansy?,” you asked sadly, unable to accept that Draco’s feelings might be mutual. Draco’s cyanic eyes twinkled. He took the diary from your hands, placing it out of the way.

He moved a piece of hair from your eyes, tracing his finger along your jaw. Then, he took a finger and traced it down the bridge of your nose and over your lips. He began to speak, repeating a line from one of his diary entries, “Everything about you is flawless.”

He leaned in slowly, planting a kiss to your lips. In that moment, it wouldn’t have shocked you if fireworks began to burst across the ceiling of your room. You scooted closer, gently placing a hand on the back of Draco’s neck. Your fingers played in the tufts of his platinum blonde hair. You pulled him back in for another kiss. Suddenly, you were very, very grateful for finals week - and those 40 missing points from Slytherin mattered not.

#draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco x you #draco x reader #malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #dracotok #draco fanfiction #draco x slytherin!reader #draco x female reader

491 notes · View notes

kissinginkitchens · 3 years ago

Text

You Bring Me Home — Chapter One: Flightless Bird, American Mouth

a/n: I've been working on this story for mooonths now and I'm so excited to finally share it with the world! It's heavily inspired by Harry's Behind the Album mini doc, except I changed the setting to Hawai'i because I've personally spent some time there and as they say, write what you know! YBMH takes place in the period between One Direction's hiatus and Harry's first album/tour, but with that being said, this is entirely a work of fiction and some events don't follow the true timeline. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my little story, I hope you love it as much as I do! It will be updated every Friday at 5 PM PST. My inbox is open, so feel free to talk to me once you've finished reading! I'd love to hear from you :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 5.5k

May, 2016

Harry watches LAX get smaller through the airplane window and visualizes all of his worries stuck at the terminal gate, their magnitude also diminishing as he takes flight. He sinks lower in his seat and skims through playlists on his phone when a nagging feeling at the back of his mind pulls his attention away from the screen. Looking up from the song choices, he spots a cell phone quickly lowered from his line of vision and a girl with flushed cheeks who quickly averts her gaze. Harry shoots a tight-lipped smile in her direction and goes back to his phone with a sigh. The days when he could roam the streets freely without fear of recognition—or worse, harassment—feel like an entirely different lifetime. He sometimes imagines that he’ll wake up back in his childhood bed as if the past five years had all been a dream, but he never does. In fact, his privacy and anonymity seem to dwindle with each minute of radio play that One Direction receives. It’s a bittersweet pill to swallow, but one he hopes will go down easier with some time in the Hawaiian sun.

His close friend and new manager, Jeff Azoff, had suggested the vacation as soon as the band privately agreed to take a hiatus.

“You’ll go home for a few weeks,” his voice had crackled through the speakers of Harry’s phone. “Visit your mom and Gem, lay low for a while until the smoke blows over,”

Harry mulled it over in his mind, eyes flickering over the rolling landscape outside of the tour bus window.

“Then what?”

“Then you go for a little vacation. The label offered to cover a house in Hawaii so you can start working on the album,”

“Alone?”

Jeff chuckled lightly on the other end before responding. “I mean, if that’s what you want,”

“No,” Harry corrected. “You and Tom should come. Mitch and Bhasker, too,”

“The dream team,”

“And there’ll be a studio there?”

“Yes,” Jeff started, almost hesitant. “But I don’t want you to think about that too much,”

“But you said the label—"

“I also said vacation. Look, Rob said ‘it will all happen in due time,' did he not?”

Harry twisted the rose ring around his finger, tracing over the silver petals and thinking back to his conversation with the CEO of Sony Music, Rob Stringer. Upon the proposal of his debut solo album, Rob had told him that the most important ingredient for a successful debut would be patience. The singer had agreed in the moment, but every day not spent in the studio felt like a test he hadn’t studied hard enough for.

“Yeah.”

“So you take the free vacation,” Jeff suggested. “You go out, live, get some writing material. Maybe mess around with some tunes. And then we come back to L.A. and get to work. But until then, I just want you to focus on taking it easy.”

So take it easy he had. Or at least he had tried to when he was back home in England. Harry quickly grew restless after what felt like the millionth awkward conversation with past friends and acquaintances, all of which eventually led to the topic of One Direction and it’s unexpected hiatus. After one month at home, his mind and journal were full of ideas for songs, things that he wanted to say before he lost his nerve. One night as he tossed and turned in bed, he shot Jeff a text, just two words that would kick off a three month getaway to the Big Island of Hawai'i:

I’m ready.

********

“Sounds great, I'll go put in your order.” Alani offers sweetly, trying not to overdo it with the customer service voice. After waiting on the family at her designated table, she heads back to the kitchen and finds her younger sister, Pua, crouched in the corner taking what appears to be a serious phone call.

“I don’t know, I just saw it!” Her sister cries in a hushed tone. “Where do you think he’s going?”

“Is everything okay?” Alani cuts in with concern.

Pua whispers into the speaker before bringing the phone to her shoulder.

“Harry Styles was just spotted on a plane this morning,”

“Who?”

“The guy from One Direction,” her sister explains with a hint of irritation in her voice. “The band who sings that song you secretly like, ‘Fireproof,'”

Alani vaguely recalls the melody, but she waits expectantly for Pua to elaborate. “And this is news because…”

“Because the band just broke up, so where could he possibly be going?”

"The unemployment office?”

Pua rolls her eyes and returns to her phone call while Alani envelops her in a tight hug.

“I’m just kidding!” Alani apologizes, squeezing tighter despite her sister’s attempts to break free. “I’m sure he’ll be living off of royalty checks until he’s, like, eighty,”

“Get off me, freak!” Pua cries out, finally breaking the embrace.

Alani clutches her chest and pulls out an invisible knife. “Ouch. I’m telling Harry you said that,”

“This is exactly why I don’t tell you things.” the younger sister huffs, storming out of the kitchen through the employee entrance where Alani’s best friend, Maleah, has just arrived.

“Looks like someone forgot to eat their Cheerios today,” she remarks, tying her curls into a high ponytail.

Alani shrugs and leans against the counter. “She’s going through something. Just discovered that boys in pop bands are, in fact, just regular boys.”

“Poor thing,” Maleah frowns. “We all have to learn eventually.”

********

The sky is a blend of cotton candy pink and burnt orange when Alani returns home from the café with a strawberry smoothie in tow. She empties the mailbox and sorts through the various bills and advertisements, but her stomach drops when she sees a familiar return address label. After a quick greeting to her excited dog who waits at the door, Alani bolts up the stairs and quietly shuts the bedroom door behind her. Breathe, she reminds herself before tearing into the envelope and discarding it onto the wooden floor.

Dear Ms. Hale,

We are very grateful to have received your submission to Rolling Stone magazine. However, we regret to inform you—

She doesn’t read the rest, slumping to the floor in defeat. The sixth rejection letter from Rolling Stone lies crumpled at Alani’s feet and she kicks it across the room with a frustrated grunt. She had worked for over two months perfecting her analysis of Joni Mitchell’s Big Yellow Taxi and its allusions to the environmental impact of urban development in Hawaii. As part of her initial research, Alani had even traveled to both the Royal Hawaiian hotel in Honolulu, which is the famous Pink Hotel mentioned in the song, and Foster Botanical Garden that Mitchell referred to as “the tree museum.” She was certain that her effort and persistence would result in at least a consideration. The second third time's the charm! Maleah had joked watching Alani submit the piece. Six articles in the span of two years, each one facing the same rejection despite the increased effort Alani had put in over time. The fact that the rejection letter hadn’t changed over the course of the two years brings an incredulous smile to her face, and her stomach turns when she considers that the editors probably hadn’t even read her work, anyway. All that effort, she thinks to herself, all that time, for nothing.

“It will take time,” her favorite professor, Dr. Hudson, had reassured her three months after the Joni Mitchell article was submitted. “Every great writer faced countless rejection until that one piece. Yours will come. Keep your eyes open and your pen ready.”

Alani sighs and lifts herself off the floor, choosing to crawl into her unmade bed instead of slumping onto the hardwood. She hears a soft scratching at the door before her King Charles Spaniel, Freddie, pads into the room.

“Come here, bubs,” Alani whispers. He obeys and burrows into the duvet, giving her temple a gentle lick before nuzzling into the nape of her neck.

“You still love me, right?” she asks, voice cracking. “Even if I’m a failure?”

Freddie sniffs her ear in response.

********

“Right,” Harry says, his tongue peeking from the corner of his mouth as he reads the map. “No, left, sorry,”

“Do you actually know how to read a map?” Jeff teases, correcting the turn.

Harry pouts in response, his brows furrowing. “In my defense, we’re literally in the middle of fucking nowhere,”

“There are worse places to be,” Mitch pipes up from the back seat. “England, for example, where they say things like ‘litchrally’,”

“Very well said, Mitchell,” Jeff Bhasker adds with a fake British accent of his own.

Harry turns to his friends in the back seat with a finger pointed like an agitated mother. “If you lot don’t shut up, I’m gonna lead us to a volcano and push you in,”

“Where are we even going? I forgot,” Tom complains.

“To get food,” his manager responds from the driver’s seat. “I think,”

“Why can’t we just stop there?” Mitch asks pointing to a café pulling up on their right.

Jeff merges into the turning lane quickly without a second thought. “Good enough for me, I’m starving.”

“Sorry, H.” Mitch pats his friend on the shoulder.

Harry scoffs. “You’re the one who wanted poke.”

The Aloha Nui Loa Café is much more spacious than the exterior suggests, yet it still feels cozy. The walls are painted sage green and adorned with various local art pieces, as described by the plaques that accompany them. A skylight fills the center of the room with plenty of warm lighting, leaving the space along the walls in a bit more shade for an intimate feel. In one corner, a hanging disco ball leaves freckles of sparkling light along the walls where the sunlight hits, making the whole image very idyllic in Harry’s mind. As if he couldn’t enjoy the setting more, he hears the beginning of an Otis Redding song that he’s had stuck in his head drift through the restaurant speakers.

“Welcome in!” a voice calls, which pulls him from his survey of the room. His head whips to the source—a girl around his age with wavy, dark hair and honey skin. “For here or to go?”

Harry takes a hesitant step up to the counter. “For here,”

She smiles warmly and pulls some menus from under the counter. “How many in your party?”

“Five.”

“Great, follow me.”

Harry and his friends follow the waitress to the corner of the room under the disco ball and take their seats at the round table.

“My name is Alani,” she introduces herself, setting the menus down. “I’ll be serving you today. Can I get you started with some drinks?”

Harry continues scanning the restaurant while his group orders. His eyes land on the shirt that Alani is wearing, a white tee with the words “Enjoy Health, Eat Your Honey” in blue lettering that surrounds a picture of a cartoon bee.

“Harry,” Jeff says gently, catching his drifting attention.

The singer turns to his manager, who nods to Alani waiting with a pen pressed to her notepad. Harry feels a rush of embarrassment creep across his cheeks and he clears his throat to cover it.

“Just water,” he says, eyes glued to the menu. “Thanks.”

“You got it.” Alani nods, flashing a toothy grin at the rest of the group before turning back to the kitchen. Harry. Her mind repeats, finding a hint of familiarity, though she doesn’t know why.

When Alani arrives at the drink station, she finds her sister staring at her, mouth agape, while Maleah unsuccessfully conceals her laughter.

“What?” she questions, checking herself for any embarrassing stains or smells.

“You were—and he—” Pua stammers. “He was—and then he—”

“That’s Harry Styles,” Maleah translates, her voice hushed as she peers over her friend's shoulder.

Alani turns to steal a glance at the table she just seated, but Pua and Maleah latch onto her and shake their heads frantically.

“Don’t look!” her sister hisses.

Alani smirks, amused at their reactions. “No shit. That’s One Direction?”

Maleah snorts, clasping a hand over her mouth as Pua huffs. “No, dumbass! It’s just Harry. I don’t know who the other guys are,”

“But the blonde guy? That’s not—?”

“No!” Pua and Maleah giggle in unison.

“Okay, geez,” Alani relents. She manages to steal a quick glance at the table over her shoulder, immediately searching for Harry. Her eyes scan over the long, curly hair kept out of his face by a pair of white sunglasses that she had seen on Kurt Cobain once. All of his features are sharp and striking, from his pointed nose and defined jawline to the bright blue eyes. Or maybe they were grey? Alani wonders, trying to remember the exact shade. He doesn’t look anything like the fresh-faced teeny bopper she’d had in mind, the one from a music video her sister had shown her a long time ago. She would have never guessed that the What Makes You Beautiful singer had so much dark ink trailing down his bicep and forearm, though her knowledge of One Direction was very limited.

“What did he order?” Pua questions, her eyes wide.

Alani quickly snaps back to reality and resumes filling the drinks. “A water,”

“Oh my god,” Maleah swoons. “I’m never drinking anything else ever again,”

“I didn’t even know you liked him,” Alani teases with an eyebrow raised.

Maleah sneaks another peek at the table and catches her lower lip between her teeth. “I mean, I didn’t really think so either but look at him. What a fucking dream,”

Harry was objectively handsome, this Alani could admit, but she personally didn’t see the appeal and had a strong feeling that he was just like every other male celebrity. The fact that he hadn’t even bothered to make eye contact with her only served as further proof of what she knew to be true.

“Okay, well, your dreamboat is waiting for his water. So excuse me,” Alani winks, making her way back to the table.

The singer spots Alani returning out of the corner of his eye and the sight of her causes a strange flutter in the pit of his stomach that makes him want to duck for cover. Instead, he pulls his phone from his back pocket and pretends to be occupied with something on the screen.

“Okay,” she greets, setting the drink tray down. “I have a Blue Hawaii, a Mango Mama, two Loco Cocos, and a water,”

The group graciously accepts their drinks with a chorus of “thank you," but the only one under Alani’s scrutiny is Harry. He still doesn’t meet her almond eyes, and though she figured he wouldn’t, she can’t help the inkling of disappointment that washes over her. After taking their meal orders, Alani heads back to the kitchen, checking on her other customers along the way. Harry’s eyes follow her and he observes the way customers light up at her presence, indulging her conversation with laughter. He watches as she lingers by the jukebox in one corner of the room, a detail he had missed in his initial scan, and waits anxiously to see what song she chooses. Baby I’m-a Want You begins softly and Harry feels the corner of his lip curl ever so slightly. Good choice, he thinks.

********

“He’s still here,” Pua muses, peering through the tiny window in the kitchen door. It had been nearly two hours and the five men were still seated around their table cracking jokes and doing a lot of talking with their hands.

Alani doesn’t look up from her bowl of sliced kiwis, offering a hum in response. “And what do you want me to do about that?”

“Nothing,” Pua shoots back. “Don’t bother him,”

“What kind of girls do you think he’s into?” Maleah asks, attempting to peek through the window.

Alani shrugs, bored of the conversation and of thinking about Harry. “I don’t know, but I’ll bet he’s a real sucker for the ones who stalk him while he’s eating,”

“How does he make eating a salad look hot?”

“Can we talk about something else now?” Alani whines, poking holes in a lone kiwi with her fork.

Pua tosses a wet dish rag in her sister’s direction and cheers when it lands in her face. “Go see if he wants more water, he looks thirsty.”

“I already refilled it,” Alani defends. “Twenty minutes ago. I’ve refilled it a hundred times, I’m surprised he hasn’t peed his pants.”

I’m gonna piss myself. Harry thinks, his right leg bouncing to distract himself. He really wasn’t all that thirsty, but he couldn’t stop himself from finishing each glass of water that Alani placed in front of him. He really wasn’t all that thirsty, but he couldn’t stop himself from finishing each glass of water that Alani placed in front of him. Like clockwork, she would return to fill his glass almost as soon as the last drop had been drained, and so what began as a little experiment slowly turned into a bladder hazard. But if the trend was to be trusted, she would be back any minute and he wasn’t going to miss it; afterall, there were only so many ways to casually linger in a small café without making it weird. Unable to bear it any longer, he heads to the restroom and hopes that Alani doesn’t clear their table before he has a chance to see her again.

Harry pads down the back hallway with his eyes cast down at the floor, which proves to be a mistake when he walks directly into another person.

“Sorry!” they both apologize quickly, Harry’s palm taking purchase on the other person’s upper arm.

“I wasn’t paying attention,” he offers, finally meeting the dark, mocha eyes already looking back at him.

Alani presses her lips into a tight smile. “Me either,”

Harry’s heartbeat picks up when he realizes it’s her, and he isn’t aware of how close they’re standing until he detects the faint scent of kiwi on her breath. He takes a step back and rakes a hand through his hair.

“So I guess I’ll just—”

“Yeah, sure.”

Green. Alani notes to herself. His eyes are green.

********

Shortly after Harry returned from the restroom, him and his friends settled their bill and headed out. Alani cleared their table and her eyes nearly fell out of her head when she saw the hefty tip left behind. The word mahalo was also left behind on the receipt, underlined twice, and she wondered if it was his handwriting.

Later that night, she settled into bed with her laptop and hesitantly typed his name into Google. As she expected, countless articles about the split of One Direction emerged, most of them speculating what was next for each member. To her surprise, however, Harry’s name seemed to be mentioned more than his fellow bandmates as various sources labeled him “the next Justin Timberlake” and rising star of the group. Upon further investigation, she learned that the demand for information about the elusive Harry Styles was high, especially concerning any possible solo music. No news had yet been confirmed by Styles himself, nor anyone claiming to represent him, but she still wondered if his presence in Hawaii had anything to do with a possible solo project. Almost as soon as she thought it, Alani dismissed the theory in favor of the idea that he was most likely just taking a vacation. And from the buzz that she saw surrounding the news about One Direction, she couldn’t blame him.

The more Alani read, the more she wanted to know, and something deep down told her that his was a story worth telling. Of course, the only problem was that she had hardly talked to him, and there were only so many things she could say about the fifteen glasses of water he downed. There was no way of knowing if she would ever see him again, either, or if he was merely stopping in Hilo on his way to another island or somewhere else entirely. Alani sighed, thinking back to her most recent rejection from Rolling Stone. She knew that there was no possible way she would ever see or talk to Harry ever again, and even if she did, why would he bare his entire soul to a stranger? Still, she let her mind wander through the possibility.

Dear Ms. Hale, the letter would read, we are very grateful to have received your submission to Rolling Stone magazine and are pleased to inform you that your piece on Harry Styles will be featured in next month’s issue. Additionally, we would be honored to have you on staff, effective immediately.

It was far-fetched, Alani knew this, but she dozed off that night with endless ideas swimming in her head.

********

By the third day after his visit, the only trace of Harry is in Alani’s search history. She would have completely forgotten about him if it weren’t for her sister’s constant reminiscing and multiple attempts to rename the house salad to the “Harry Special.” As a result, a part of Alani’s thoughts periodically linger back to that day and the subsequent hours spent on Google that she’d rationalized as research instead of stalking. Somehow the knowledge that she’ll never see him again only adds fuel to the questions still burning in her mind, but a customer clearing their throat while she sorts menus below the hostess podium interrupts her thoughts.

“Welcome in!” She calls, standing. “What can I—”

She stops in her tracks, unable to believe her eyes. Harry blinks and waits for her to continue.

“What can I get started for you?” Alani tries again, hoping that he hadn’t noticed her shock. Luckily for her, Harry had been too focused on choosing his next words to register her mistake.

“What’s in the Honu smoothie?” he asks, mentally kicking himself for asking such a stupid question when the menu just inches above her head clearly spells it out.

Alani hums, thinking back to the times she had made the smoothie herself. “Kiwis, spinach, mango, avocado, and a hint of lime,”

“I’ll take one of those,” Harry says, reaching for his wallet.

Alani punches in the order with trembling fingers and nods. “For here or to go?”

“To go,”

Disappointment fills her chest. Sure, she hadn’t planned on seeing him ever again, but the fact that she did felt like a sign. If she wanted to take the chance, she’d have to do it fast.

“Anything else?” she asks, weighing her options while he skims the menu.

“No thanks.”

Alani makes the smoothie quickly, head spinning. She had spent most of the night after their initial meeting planning out exactly the type of questions she hoped to ask him and what kind of article she would write. She was used to writing about what she knew—artists and music she’d admired for years— but she figured that starting fresh with someone she hardly knew would be a good challenge. Not to mention that it seemed like just the thing Rolling Stone would jump for. Alani finally works up the courage as she finishes his smoothie, but when she returns to hand it to him and hopefully strike up a conversation, his ear is pressed to his cell phone. She holds out the drink and he graciously accepts, giving her a small nod as a “thank you” and rushing out of the restaurant.

Two days later he returns and is seated at the counter, typing away on his phone. Alani feels both a rush of optimism and annoyance at the universe for dangling his presence so unexpectedly. She starts heading over to him, but Maleah cuts in.

“Trade me?” she proposes, eyes wide.

Alani blinks. “Oh, I would but I—”

“Please,” her best friend pouts. “I’m leaving to see my grandparents in stupid California for two months. Who knows when I’ll get the chance to see him again?”

Alani sighs, but gives in, reluctantly exchanging Harry for the family of four seated by the window. A strange feeling settles into the pit of his stomach when he sees that she heads in the opposite direction after a hushed conversation with another waitress. He doesn’t know why she traded him for a different customer, but he takes the hint.

A week goes by without another sighting of Harry and Alani has permanently taken on the role of greeting hostess in hopes of seeing him again. Her heartbeat temporarily speeds up when she sees a long haired customer approach the door, but her spirits quickly fall when the face doesn’t match his.

Another week brings another disappointing realization that Harry might be gone for good. One rainy morning when the restaurant is quiet and only two customers huddle together in a booth near the back, Alani hunches over the hostess podium and doodles on a stray receipt— a sunflower, a crescent moon, and two hearts. The bell above the door jingles but she doesn’t look up, too absorbed in her scribbles.

“Do you serve coffee?”

The familiar accented voice stops Alani’s pen dead in its tracks. She lifts her eyes first to confirm, and then straightens up when she sees that her ears haven’t deceived her.

“Yes,” she swallows.

“Great. I’ll take it to go,”

She slightly deflates, but Harry thinks he’s reading too much into it.

“Actually,” he corrects anyway, just in case he isn’t. “I think I’ll stay for a while,”

Alani flashes a warm smile and nods in the direction of the counter. “Right this way,”

Harry sheds his windbreaker onto the back of the seat, revealing a black and white Rolling Stones t-shirt that makes Alani’s blood pressure rise. A sign, she thinks.

“What do you want in your coffee?” she questions carefully.

“Nothing,” he responds, shaking out his damp hair gently. “Or actually, uh, butter...if you have some,”

Alani blinks, not sure if she’d heard correctly or if there had been some transatlantic miscommunication.

“Butter?”

“Yeah,”

“Like the—”

“Spread, yeah,” Harry confirms. “It’s weird, I know,”

She lets out a light-hearted laugh and nods. “It’s a...unique request,”

“I thought the same thing at first,” Harry confides. “It’s not bad, actually. But maybe I’ve just been in L.A. for too long.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

She offers a polite smile and heads to the kitchen where the cook and two other waiters talk amongst each other. Alani is grateful that the restaurant is slow this morning because she knows that it means minimal interruptions to her time with Harry. To ensure this, though, she asks one of the other waiters to cover the podium and returns to Harry with his coffee.

“One butter coffee, free of judgement,” the waitress announces, setting it down.

Harry grins softly, stirring the drink with the spoon Alani provided. “You can judge, it’s alright,”

“I just wanna know why,”

The coffee had been part of a fad diet while on tour in order to boost Harry’s energy on stage and stay trim for the hundreds of photo-ops he would be a part of. He doesn’t know how to communicate all of this to Alani, however, not sure how much she knows about that part of him, so he shrugs and tells a simplified version of the truth.

“I read about this trend a while back, it's called bulletproof coffee. Supposed to get your energy up and I needed it for my job,”

“Which is…” Alani trails off, downplaying the knowledge that she had acquired from Google.

“I make music,” is all Harry says and he takes a sip of the drink to avoid elaborating.

“Anything I would have heard?”

He swallows hard and listens to the faint rumbling of thunder outside before replying. “Possibly,”

“Try me,” Alani challenges.

He narrows his eyes and takes another sip of coffee. “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself first?”

“What do you wanna know?”

Everything, Harry responds internally, though he reigns it in. “How you got into waitressing,”

Alani sighs, resting her elbows on the counter across from him. “There’s not much to tell, it’s a family business. What I really wanna do is write,”

“Music?”

“Articles. I’m studying Journalism at UH,”

Harry hums in response, filing the detail away in the back of his mind. “Sounds interesting. You ever publish anything?”

“Not yet,” Alani shakes her head gently, toying with the sleeves of her green University of Hawaii crewneck. “Hopefully soon, though,”

Harry racks his brain for something else to say, but before he can, Alani speaks up again.

“Is it my turn to ask something now?”

He offers a curt nod and stirs his coffee.

“What kind of music do you write?”

Harry chooses to be vague again. “Different stuff. Pop, usually. Been messing with some classic rock, though,”

“Explains the shirt,”

He peers down at the design on his tee and agrees. “Yeah, I guess so,”

“Do you like it?” Alani asks, her eyes begging to make contact with his again. “Writing music, I mean,”

“Yeah,” Harry confirms, tapping his spoon against the rim of the mug. “I really do,”

Alani’s heart pounds. This is her chance, a moment to finally secure her breakthrough piece. She doesn’t know how to approach it, so she opts to dive right in without looking back. The worst he can say is no.

“Can I ask you something else?”

“That’s cheating,” Harry teases lightly. “It's my turn,”

She pouts playfully, but obliges. “Fire away,”

Harry doesn’t know which question to ask first, but when he glances down at the crescent moon inked on her wrist, he decides to start there.

“What’s with the moon tattoo?”

Alani isn’t sure what she expected him to ask and wonders what purpose such a detail could possibly serve him, but she answers anyway.

“Oh, well,” she begins, tracing her index finger over the outline. “It’s kinda the meaning of my full name. It’s Mahealani, Hawaiian for ‘heavenly moon,'”

Fitting, Harry comments to himself. Every detail he learns about her makes him want to learn that much more, from her favorite foods to the last thing she thinks about before falling asleep. Studying her expectant eyes, he suddenly remembers that it’s his turn to respond.

“That’s cool,” is all he says.

Alani doesn’t know what to make of the faraway look in his eye, but she decides to pose her most burning question while he appears to be in good spirits.

“I know this is gonna sound totally out of the blue,” she starts, working past the lump in her throat. “But when you mentioned how you write music, I was just reminded of this assignment I’m working on in my class,”

Harry waits for her to continue, nursing his now lukewarm coffee.

“I’m supposed to write a piece about someone who I don’t know that well,” she continues. “You know, to practice our interviewing skills. And, well, I was just kind of wondering if you might be interested in helping me out—being the subject, I mean,”

Alani had every intention of telling Harry the truth, about how she really planned to submit the article to Rolling Stone in hopes of securing an internship before her college graduation next Spring. But as she started speaking, she quickly realized how it would come off: a complete stranger asking for personal information to submit to a well-known publication. She knew that there was a chance he would shut down and never return, so she lowered the stakes and hoped that this route would be less risky. Was it ethical? Alani hadn’t decided yet, but she would work out the details later. After six failed articles and two years of rejection, she saw a ray of hope and wasn’t going to let it slip away.

Harry ponders her offer for a moment, which confirms that she had recognized him. Normally he would be off-put by such a request, and to a certain extent he is, but there is something sincere in her voice that he trusts deep down. Before he agrees, however, he decides to fish around a bit to test her reaction.

“You know who I am,” he says gently. “Don’t you?”

Alani’s heart drops into the pit of her stomach, not sure what to say next. She hopes with every fiber of her being that she hasn’t upset him, or worse, ruined her chances, so she decides to offer some truth to throw him off her scent.

“My sister recognized you,” she explains. “That day you came in with your friends. I thought they were your bandmates at first,”

This lets Harry know that she isn’t a total stalker, which is comforting, but he wouldn’t have been minded if she were a fan simply engaging in conversation.

“Oh,” he laughs weakly.

“I totally understand if you say no,” Alani offers quickly, trying to smooth things over. “I just thought it was worth a shot. And that it might be more interesting than interviewing our produce guy,”

Harry decides to give her one last scan for any sign of insincerity. He’d always felt that his gut instinct was strong and it hadn’t led him astray thus far.

“An interview?” he clarifies.

“Just one,” Alani promises. “An hour, tops. And you can proofread all of it once I’ve finished, too.”

Harry waits a beat, already knowing his reply, but he wants to see how she will react to his silence. She doesn’t budge, almond eyes set and determined.

“Okay.”

next chapter

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles x oc #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #ybmh #she's here she's here she's here!!!!!

102 notes · View notes

wayward-mikaelson · 3 years ago

Text

Shallow (Dean Winchester x F! Reader)

Word Count: 4549

About: Set during S15 finale, so SPOILERS. You and the boys pick up a vamp hunt while at a Pie Festival. The hunt ends tragically.

Characters: Dean, Sam, Jody, Cas, Young Dean (s15), Lyla (OC)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Reader (Anyone can obviously read it)

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, Angst, Character Death, Depression (mentioned), Time Jumps.

A/N: It's been while since I did a SPN fic! Writing it made me miss the them more!

A/N 2: This might need some tissues.

***This work contains content for the 18 and up crowd, so please read at your discretion. This work is cross posted on other sites. Please don't copy and paste my work; I work too hard on all my stories. You my copy the link to share or you may reblog. I am NOT taking requests at this time. Feedback is welcomed!***

Forever Tags: @hobby27 @donnaintx @myinconnelly1 @elansaidaris @magssteenkamp @440mxs-wife

Supernatural Tags: @lyarr24

Dean/Jensen Tags: @akshi8278 @sandlee44 @squirrelnotsam @thougts-and-funnies

Masterlist

Supernatural Masterlist

Favorite Fics Masterlist

You laid there, feeling the cool body paint move around on your back. Dean’s gentle fingers tracing over your back could put you to sleep. This had been the most calm and rest you had in the last couple years. You deserved it! Hell, Dean deserved it more than you. He had been fighting longer than you ever had.

Dean and you crossed paths six years ago during a demon hunt. It really was your hunt and you wouldn’t want to admit it, but you really weren’t doing too hot. You were extremely lucky the Winchester’s stumbled across your hunt when they did. If it weren’t for them you’d probably be some demon's meat suit or doing the conga in hell with the devil himself. That was until you learned of where the devil really was a few years later.

You and Dean rarely got along over the first few years. The two of you always butted heads and argued during most hunts. It annoyed Sam so much that he actually told the two of you “Sleep together already! I can’t take the sexual tension and the bickering any longer.”

It didn’t take longer after that for Dean to grab your face and kiss you.

“Are you done back there?” You tried to twist a bit but a hand gently pushed you back into place.

“Nope,” Dean enunciated the word. “Almost. This is going to look epic though.”

“Doesn’t need to be the Sistine Chapel,” You buried your face back into the pillow.

Dean gasped. “Excuse me? Your back deserves a painting better than the Sistine Chapel. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t give you the best?”

You chuckled and mumbled something into the pillow.

Once Dean was finished, he reached for his phone and took a picture of it. “There we go,” you heard the smile in his voice. “Now that’s what I like to call the Sistine Back. Here, take a look.”

You lifted your head to see Dean lay on his side next to you. A huge smile painted his face as he showed the screen of his phone to you. What you saw, had you laughing uncontrollably. “Oh, Dean,” you breathed in between laughs. “This is better than the Sistine Chapel. I love it!”

Dean’s face lit up so bright, it could have brightened up the dimly lit room. “Yeah? Maybe I should get this printed out big enough to fit the ceiling in here.”

You shook your head as laughter took over your body once again. “Oh, God, yes! We can stare at the hamburger and apple pie every night we have sex.”

“Yeah,” Dean pushed you onto your back, getting the body paints onto the sheets under you. He plants a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, making you shiver through your entire body. Dean began to kiss down your body until he got to your belly. He looked up at you with those bright green eyes. Instead of slinking down further, he crept back up and hovered over you. Those eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. This man has shown you more love than any other man, including your father, has ever shown you. “I love you, don’t you ever forget that.”

“Never,” you reached up, wrapped your arms around his necK and pulled him to your lips. “I have a surprise for you.” Twisted to the side and pulled a piece of paper out of the side table drawer and handed it to him. You watched as his face lit up and looked between the paper and your face.

“A pie festival?” The excitement was clear as day in his voice. “Oh, Sweetheart, we are so going to this thing. The three of us. A huge family road trip.”

And that’s what you all did.

It was the best trip you all had. Dean tried every single pie he could get his hands on. You and Sam watched as he ate each slice. Looking like he was in heaven with each bite he took. It made you happy to see him so at peace not worrying about anything. There’s no end of the world evil to take care of. There hadn’t been for awhile.

LIfe seemed to be normal.

“You gotta try this one,” Dean sat next to you with another big box full of piece samples. He gave you a fork and pushed a pie towards you. “Don’t give it that look. It’s a honey apple pie with a tad bit of rosemary. So much sweeter than normal apple pie.” You took a small bite and Dean was right. It was sweeter.

“Not going to lie, that was pretty good,” you went for another bite.

“So, guys, get this,” Sam sat down with a newspaper in hand. Can’t be a fun trip unless Sam had his paper to look at. “There was a kidnapping last night. Father murdered and the mother’s tongue cut out. Both kids are missing.”

“Okay, doesn’t sound like our kind of thing,” you reach for the paper. “Maybe leave it to the local PD?” Suddenly, Dean took the paper from your hands and stared at the picture to the article of the tragic story.

“I’ve seen this before,” he mumbled. “Do we still have Dad’s journal?”

“Yeah, why?” Sam asked.

“I think I’ve seen these masks before.”

And Dean. Once he found the drawing John Winchester drew years ago, they matched the ones in the paper. You guys were looking at a pair of masked vamps and you guys were pretty much the closest hunters to take care of it.

“It’s one little hunt,” Dean shrugged as he checked out the weapons in the trunk. “Why don’t we take care of it and then head on home.”

It didn’t take long for you guys to locate the missing children. They were being held in an old barn on the outskirts of town. There three of you, so it shouldn’t be too hard to fight a small nest of vamps. You guys have taken out larger nests in the past.

“Come on, just this once?” Dean had asked. You peaked your head around the trunk and saw Dean holding up ninja stars with a huge smile on his face. Sam on the other hand just stared at him and shook his head.

“Not this time, man.”

Dean put the stars away while mumblings about how Sam was no fun. You smiled and patted him on the back and told him that there will be another time to use them. Dean gumbled some more and you had to remind him that you book a separate motel room away from Sam and that you brought some fun toys.

Even his favorite one to use on you.

Getting into the barn was too easy. Sam and Dean fought the two vamps that jumped out, making it easier for you to grab the two kids and get them to the impala. Once you strapped them in, you were making your way towards the driver side, you were tackled by one of the vamps.

The two of you wrestled in the dirt until you were able to break away and grab hold of your machete. You get to your feet and are tackled again, this time the vamp pins you firmly to the ground. The vamp removed his mask and bit down onto your neck, making you cry out. When the vamp pulled back, you took that small opening to headbutt him and kick in in the groin. You rolled away and quickly stood up and swung your machete. The vamp's head rolled onto the ground. You looked up and saw the terrified look on the children’s face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you told them when you opened their door. You pulled the blankets over them and gave them some water and the sandwiches you made. “Drink and eat, we’ll get you home soon.” You heard it go quiet in the barn. It was too quiet and something in you told you something wasn’t right. “Hang on tight,” you closed the door and ran inside the barn.

What you saw, it almost knocked the wind out of you. There, Dean’s back was pressed firmly against a wooden pillar with a pained expression on his face. You ran up to him and looked at the damage and felt the tears fall as your heart begin to break.

Dean wasn’t going to come back from this.

“Dean,” you whispered as you met his eyes.

“I know, sweetheart,” He winced as he spoke. You saw his breathing get deeper and more shallow. “I love you. Don’t you forget that when you find someone else.” You squeezed your eyes shut because there was nothing you can do or say that will change the outcome of this. You felt Dean’s hand on your face pulling you towards his lips.

This kiss wasn’t like past kisses. It was firm and passionate and slow. He wanted you to remember this kiss for years to come. “Until we meet again,” Dean whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Take care of her, Sam,” Dean added.

Everything that followed after that, felt like a dream. Your body felt heavy as you drove the kids to the nearest police station with some story about how you found them. The man that you loved, the man who you spent many nights talking about some kind of future, that man was now gone.

When you got back to the barn, the sun was just beginning to rise. You saw Sam sitting next to a covered up heap and the realization, again, hit you hard. The cover heap was Dean’s body. You stopped the impala and got out. Sam looked up at you with red eyes. You knew he had been crying hard. Probably as hard as you had. Sam got up and effortlessly picked up Dean and placed him in the back seat.

The whole way back to the bunker, neither of you spoke. You just took turns crying and driving. Stopping on the side of the road and just letting the other scream out in whatever pain the two of you had left in your bodies.

Back at the bunker, the two of you worked and got a pyre ready. When it was ready, you watched as Sam carried his big brother's body and gently placed it on the wooden display. You stood, with Miracle standing next to you. She had been whimpering off and on. She knew Dean was up there. You knelt down and let her nuzzle you while you let some more tears fall. Miracle was all you had left of Dean now.

Sam had some trouble lighting the pyre so you went up and helped it light it. Soon, the pyre and Dean were on fire. Then the two of you stared at it until it was nothing but ash.

***

You sat in Jody’s spare room while Miracle laid at your feet. You still wished all of this were a dream because neither you nor Sam, could adjust to the new reality that Dean was gone. So the two of you packed up what you could and left the bunker.

You guys drove until you were on Jody’s doorstep at midnight. She knew something was wrong when she looked deeply into your faces and asked where Dean was. When she saw the tears in your guys eyes, her whole face fell. She pulled the two of you into the tightest hug and held on tightly as the three of you cried silently.

A gentle knock on your door startled you. You got up and answered the door and saw Sam standing there. He was dressed in fresh clothes holding two cups of coffee.

“Are you, uh, doing okay?” Sam asked as you took the coffee from him. “I know it’s a stupid question but…”

You gave a pained smile, “I know I’ll be okay, but I feel like I won’t be okay. I’ve tried praying to Jack but I’m pretty sure he’s busy fixing Heaven.” You recount the hours you cried out to Jack about the loss of Dean. You cried about how you wanted him back. You cried about how you were supposed to move on from an epic love like that. You cried about how you just missed him and needed him to make it better.

“Same here,” Sam ran his hands through his hair. “I’m going to go look at places, apartments, that we can share and see what kind of jobs we can get. Do you want to come along?”

You took a deep breath and looked at the ground. “Not today, maybe tomorrow. I really want to spend time alone and process these last couple days.”

“Okay, no worries,” Sam nodded his head. “I’ll see you when I come back.”

“Okay.”

You waited until Sam had been gone for an hour to pack your bags again and head down stairs. You were in the process of opening the door when you heard someone behind you. Turning around you saw Jody standing in the entryway with you. She didn’t say anything, she just pulled a pair of keys out of the bowl next to her and handed them to you.

“Call me when you're safe,” she placed a hand on your face and gave you a smile. “I can’t bear to lose another kid.” A few tears slipped down her cheek.

Agreeing to call her, you slipped out the door and to the car Jody let you use. You got in and made sure Miracle was settled in the passenger seat. Then you were on your way out of town. You weren’t sure where you would go but you knew you needed to get far away from everything.

You needed to start fresh somewhere.

***

Years have passed and you’ve found that the pain of losing Dean has lessened. You’re able to have random memories of him without crying or hours and days on end. You were able to wake up without feeling like there was a hole on your chest. You were finally able to tell Sam why you ran after you were states away. You promised him it would be for a bit and that you’ll contact him.

Sadly, that day never came.

Two months after losing Dean you began to feel sick. You weren’t sure if it was the stress of losing Dean or starting a new life or both. So, off you went to the doctors and there you sat on the papery bed feeling like you were hit by a truck. The words that the doctor told you, they echoed around in your head.

“And the father?” the words were almost like a whisper in your already loud and spinning head.

“What?” you shook your head.

“That father?” the doctor repeated. “What do you know about the father?”

You took a deep breath and looked at the ground. “Um, he’s not in the picture.” Your voice had been quiet. Your heart felt like it had been breaking all over again. Part of you couldn’t believe this was happening. Part of you believed it, Dean and you were never really safe when it came to sex.

“One night stand? We do have options,” the doctor began to say.

“No no,” you shook your head. “The father, he’s um...he passed away.” You choked on the words. Hearing it out loud, made his death all the more real.

“My apologies,” The doctor whispered.

You took the pamphlets and walked out of the doctors. You didn’t know what you would do. This was all so new and all so painful at the same time. Dean was supposed to be here with you whenever this happened. In the end, you chose to keep the baby. You called Jody and Donna and told them, making them both promise not to tell Sam.

Over the years, you heard about Sam through Donna and Jody. He got married and had a kid of his own. You wanted to reach out but at this point it had been years and the two of you had settled into non hunting life. It wouldn’t be fair to disrupt it.

As more years passed, you saw Lyla become more and more like her father. She had his green eyes and his smile. She was smart and would get her hands on just about anything and that made you wonder, where did she get that from. Smart brains ran on both sides. Maybe something from Sam or something from your father. She loved pie just as much as Dean, and you’d take her to the pie festival every year.

As Lyla grew, she asked about Dean from time to time and you told her what you could. You also told her that when she turned into an adult you would tell her more, that telling her while she was young and child wouldn’t be safe or wise. In the meantime, you told her all the things asked about.

“What was Daddy’s favorite food?”

“What did Daddy like to do for fun?”

“What was Daddy’s favorite color?”

“Did Daddy have a favorite movie?”

The questions were endless, but you loved to answer them. Then one day, Lyla came up to you one morning, her dark hair looking like a bird's nest. Her face was beaming with happiness.

“Mommy,” Lyla’s voice was an octave higher. “Did you know, Daddy is in Heaven?”

You almost choked on your coffee. “What, Sweetie?”

“Daddy, he’s in Heaven. An angel told me,” she walked off and grabbed her stuffed chicken, one that she named Chickie Meow Meow, and hugged it tightly.

“What angel?” you asked. You got up and began to check all your warding, the ones that kept the bad creatures out. Everything seemed to be in place, even that salt that still blended in with your window panels. Then you checked to see if Lyla still wore the anti-possesion charm necklace you had made for her. She still did. “What did the angel look like?”

“He wore a funny brown jacket,” she answered. “He said his name was Cas. He wanted me to tell you that Daddy is fine. That they are looking over us.” You pulled Lyla into a hug and let some tears fall.

***

You walked into that old abandoned barn. You had left Lyla with Jody for the weekend. You sat down and placed all that you needed to summon Cas. You didn’t want to pray, you knew Cas all too well, he probably wouldn’t show up. But if you summoned him, you knew he had no choice but to come and see you. You lit the match and dropped it into the bowl and waited.

“Y/N” The deep, rough voice said your name.

You turned to see Cas standing there. In the same thing that he had been taken away in. But it was cleaner. “How are you alive?” you asked outright.

“Jack, he brought me back,” Cas took a few steps closer to you. “You know you could have prayed and I would have come.”

“But would you?” you gave the angel a smirk and raised your eyebrows.

“I did it for Lyla,” Cas looked into your eyes. “She prayed about Dean and wanted to know if he was in Heaven. I thought it best that it was me to come to her.”

You looked down, you couldn’t bear to look into the angel's blue eyes. You always assumed things and that always backfired and kicked you in the ass. “Then why didn’t you come to me when I cried out to you or to Jack?”

“I did,” Cas closed the distance and placed a hand under your chin and lifted your face to meet his eyes. “Each night that you cried yourself to sleep, I was there sitting at the foot of your bed. Each night that you drank yourself to sleep, before you found out you were pregnant, I sat there and rubbed your back the way Dean told me too. Then when you were in that delivery room all by yourself, I was there to make sure things went smoothly. Then when you were sleeping, I memorized everything there was about Lyla. I have watched over the two of you these last nine years. Dean would be so proud of how far you have come.”

You stood there and cried silently as Cas spoke. “Cas,” you whispered, wiping the tears from your face. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I can’t be on Earth as much, Jack and I are still fixing Heaven but I can tell you that Dean is waiting for you.” Cas moved his hand to your shoulder. “I have to go, but I was told to tell you, I love you by Dean.”

Then you were alone.

***

Twelve year passed and you’re helping Lyla with a college event. She had just turned twenty-one and was nearly done with her bachelor degree. At this point, she knew all that there was to Dean. She knew he was a hunter, that he saved the world countless times, that he had some faults, and so on.

Lyla knew of what goes bump in the night. She’s read every note and the journal you kept during the time you had been hunting. When she asked if Dean kept one, you had told her that he didn’t. That he used his fathers and you weren’t sure where that ended up. Lyla even went above and got whatever protection tattoos down her spine.

So, while you’re helping Lyla you had a boy, about nineteen years old come up to the booth and look around. He looked familiar to you. He wore a long sleeve flannel, that was probably why. Sam and Dean always wore flannel. That was probably why and it made you miss the younger Winchester. You should have kept in contact with him or at least told him of Lyla.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called out to you.

You turned around and your heart just about fell from your chest. There standing with grey hair, was Sam Winchester. He hadn’t changed too much except for the hair and the fact that he wore glasses. He still looked like the Sam Winchester you knew all those years ago.

“Sam?” You crossed your arms.

“The one and only,” he smiled. “What are you doing here?”

Before you could answer, Lyla came up to you. “Mom, we’re going to need some more pamphlets, we’re just about out.” You turned to Lyla who saw Sam. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s okay, take my keys and you can go print some out at the UPS down the street,” You motioned to your bag.

After Lyla had left you turned back to Sam who had watched her the whole time. It was like he knew. “So, you have a kid too?” You heard the tone in his voice. Lyla looked so much like Dean these days, you knew someone from your past was bound to notice. Sam most of all.

“Yeah,” you answer quietly. “Her name’s Lyla.”

“Cool, that’s great you found someone to populate the Earth with,” Sam gestured towards you. That tone he held was still there. The look in his eyes was the very same one he used on you when he called you out on yours and Dean’s sexual tension.

“You know, don’t you?” you lowered your arms.

“She looks a lot like Dean,” Sam whispered. “Is that why you ran? Is that why I never heard from you?” You stared at Sam and tried to hold back your emotions. “Dean’s final words were to take care of you. I failed at that when you ran.”

“You failed when you didn’t come and look for me,” you lashed out. “I thought you would have looked for me despite everything I told you. You should have found me. Then I find out through Jody your married and have a kid, I thought it best not to mess up what you got for yourself.”

Sam stared at you and nodded. “I should have and I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered and looked around. The boy in the flannel was still there. Then it hit you. “Is that?”

“My son,” Sam’s face lit up brighter than you’ve ever seen it. “His name is Dean.”

For the next five years you kept in touch with Sam. You guys spent holidays and birthdays with each other. That was, until you got sick and the doctors couldn’t help you. So, in your hospital room, Sam sat beside you. He wasn’t doing too well either, but he held your hand and smiled at you.

“Tell Dean I said hi,” were the last words you heard.

***

When your eyes opened again, you were sitting on a bench. Around you was a field of just plain old grass and a few trees. You knew this place all too well. You stood and realized you were back in your younger body. Having that kind of movement again, it was amazing. You began to walk around, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin. It all felt nice and it made you smile.

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

You spun around at the familiar sound. There he stood, looking handsome as ever in his jacket and leaning against the Impala with that heartwarming smile. “Dean,” you said his name like he hadn’t been dead for almost three decades.

Dean pushed himself off the impala and closed the distance between the two of you. He placed a hand on your cheek and brushed his calloused thumb over it. You closed your eyes and took in the touch. “You know, time is different up here. It doesn’t feel like it’s been twenty-six years.” Then he pressed his lips to yours and the feel almost knocked you off your feet.

“Are we allowed to kiss in Heaven?” you pulled away from him.

“I don’t think Jack minds,” Dean smiled and gathered you into his arms and pressed his lips more firmly to his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against him. “Wanna go for a ride?” He asked when he pulled away.

“Sure, I missed this beauty.” You ran your hand along the impala and just as you were about to get in, Dean staring at you caught your eye. “What?”

“Cas says you had a baby,” Dean crossed his arms on top of the hood. “I have to ask…”

You smiled at him and leaned on the hood as well. “She’s yours and she’s incredible. Loves pie just like her daddy. I thought Cas would’ve told you.”

“Time moves differently up here,” Dean repeated what he said earlier. “What’s her name?”

“Lyla,” you smiled. “Lyla Winchester.”

“I wish I got to know her,” Dean spoke softly.

“You will,” you got into the passenger side. “I can tell you all you want about her.”

Dean followed you into the impala. “I don’t have to worry about some random dude coming here and claiming you as his wife or something?”

“Nope,” You sat back. “Now drive or I’ll start walking.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

45 notes · View notes

watermelonlipstick · 4 years ago

Text

Dreams, Chapter 8

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 8

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1416

Summary: A dream starts to change the reader’s perspective on her life with Sam.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, s l o w b u r n

It took weeks but the physical touch you’d gotten so used to came back one handhold at a time until finally it seemed like maybe Sam had made peace with The Sledding Incident. You never forced it, didn’t say anything because you didn’t want to push him away. Waiting felt like starving with a ten course meal on a silver platter in front of you, but it paid off. Whether he realized he was rewarding you or not, the space to let Sam process was met with absentminded hands slipped around your waist at the grocery store, non-secrets hummed into the skin of your jaw and neck as you stood just barely too close, loose pieces of hair tucked behind your ear when you washed glasses at the bar. The positive reinforcement limited the clinging you’d been doing since you’d first driven away from the bunker, knowing that the less you clawed at Sam for scraps of attachment the less he felt like you were in too deep to receive it.

Repair by repair the cabin started to feel more like yours. The bathrooms got painted a faint baby blue that reminded you of long cloudless afternoons in Sioux Falls and Sam taught you some basic plumbing to fix the water pressure in the shower. It was only slightly less gross than you thought it would be, but Sam was so excited when you put the plumber’s joint caulk on perfectly that it made up for the limescale gunk under your nails. When you worked, Sam pretty much stopped playing podcasts and books, relying instead on an ever-changing kaleidoscope of music Dean would never have let anyone play in the Impala. Some of it you were pretty sure Sam didn’t even like, almost as if he was trying to learn a new culture by jumping in headfirst.

You kept writing in your journal like you were sending letters back home to Dean from summer camp, giving little updates on the cabin or Sam or ridiculous drama you heard at the bar. At night you and Sam would talk about what should get fixed next and sometimes if you were feeling tough you’d watch Sam look up at the ceiling, hair splayed out on the pillow around him like a halo while he told a story about him and Dean growing up or times you’d been away from them on the road. Every once in a while you’d heard Dean’s perspective of the same event and would give them like a little gift to Sam. His eyes would go soft, hanging on your every word and letting his mouth quirk up a hair at the corners. You’d laugh together, often sadly but surprisingly sometimes not, winding into the crook under his arm and playing the tapes of the memories in your head.

More and more frequently, you’d have good dreams—or rather, non-nightmares. Dean would get hurt and survive or you’d all be on a job together. Right before you woke up he’d be just about to say something important, warn you of something serious but couldn’t spit it out fast enough. It was frustrating, but so much nicer than waking up on soaked pillows that you just put it in a letter to Dean and tried to move on with your daytime projects and nighttime bar work. Some days it felt like you were going to be okay and then the next you’d be impaled on grief so hard you couldn’t even breathe around it. And yet, always Sam to tie yourself to and slide into the next day.

It’s cold but bright, the sunlight reflecting and magnifying itself on the snow blanketing the landscape. Salt crunches under the tires of the Impala, just barely louder than the engine and enough to be aware of through a ZZ Top tape. You’re almost on the edge of drifting asleep on the windowsill when Dean grabs your arm.

“Hey, come on, you can’t leave me.”

The urgency in his tone jolts you alert. “Why? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know how much time I have left. There’s a lot I need to tell you.”

“We haven’t even picked up Sam yet,” you answer, in the self-assuredness of dream logic. “How bad could it be?”

“It’s me, baby. It’s really me. Dead, everything, the works. I need you to focus, I don’t know how long I can stay.”

Some small sub-sub-conscious part of your mind jolts to attention. It feels honest, or at least the closest to honest as you had wanted to be in a while. You let yourself indulge it.

“You, like—really? It’s really…?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I—I don’t know how to—” and you stop him with a furtive kiss, all hunger and no grace, just wanting to feel what it was like to be against him again.

Dean swerves a little when his eyes open, momentarily dazed. “Christ, I forgot how good that was.”

“I don’t—how are you…?” you murmur, having a hard time not only with the information but also with the juxtaposition of your conscious and subconscious knowledge.

“No bullshit, I’m communicating beyond the grave. Don’t tell Miss Cleo,” he answers, the smirk twisting your stomach like a wrench.

“Are you okay? If this is what it’s like to be dead then Sam and I will be here the second I wake up, we’ll just come to you—"

“Babe, I wish you could but it doesn’t work like that. It’s not even really supposed to work like this but Cass is pulling some strings. I only have until your subconscious realizes what’s going on and kicks me out.”

“What? How?”

“The separation between living and dead is a little bit thinner when you’re asleep. It’s actually pretty cool but it’s going to take a while to explain.”

“Okay, right, got to be fast. Fuck, I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too, kid. More than I can explain. But listen, baby, I’m so proud of you for making it this far. It’s going to be okay, I promise. Sam will take care of you, and I know you’re taking care of him the best you can. I don’t know how long I have until you wake up. I’ll keep trying again to come to you, but until the next time I get to see you, my firecracker, you’re so tough. You can do a lot worse than Sam, and I would never, ever hold it against either of you. I’ve been trying to send that—been trying to ram my head through this fucking door about a hundred times by now actually—but if it hasn’t been coming through strongly enough, I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what the fuck I’d be doing if it had been one of you—probably would’ve drunk myself to death by now to be honest—so the fact that you’re so worried about whether necking is going to raise my soul from the depths is actually sorta sweet. Love is complicated and the lines get blurred; I get it, especially now with some damned perspective. As long as I’m still going to be your guy when you get here, that’s all that matters to me. You’re it for me, kid.” He traces a light finger down the side of your cheek and it sends an ache straight into your stomach, makes him look lost for a beat as he takes you in.

“Dean, I love you. I can't—I can’t even tell you how much I love you. I never got to say thank you for all the things you—”

“Hey,” he says, grabbing your chin and holding you still to flick his gaze between your eyes. “I know. There’s no time. You don’t have to say that to me, I know. I always knew. I’m going to try to get to Sam too, but he’s—the angels are shocked at the shit that’s happening in his brain. Makes sense, you know, after everything he’s gone through, but I guess it makes it harder to slip through the cracks. But here: if I can’t do this again; if this is the last time I talk to you until you get back to me, I love you, and I’m going to keep loving you no matter what. The two people I love most in the world being together could never be bad to me, and I will alway—”

And you woke up.

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 9

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass @vxnderlindes @deanwinchesterswitch @akshi8278 @itsjensenanddean @flannellover67 @weepingwillowphoenix @tj-drinks-tea @whatareyousearchingfordean @winchestergirl2 @winchest09 @samwisethegr8 @fawnxng @nurse-sarahrn @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love @deanwanddamons @stressedoutkitten @winchestershiresauce @tatted-trina6 @percico-heronstairs @downanddirtydean @queenoftheunderdark @lyarr24 @waywardwifey @thinkinghardhardlythinking @wonder-cole @sergeantsea @peachyafshawn @tjfinnigan @that-one-gay-girl @calaofnoldor

And as always, if you want to be on my taglist, were on the taglist and changed your handle, or I lost track of it, please let me know!

100 notes · View notes

sadman-morgan · 4 years ago

Text

rainy night muse

pairing: arthur morgan x neutral!reader

summary: Heavy rain slammed against the tent’s folds as thunder roared throughout camp. This night felt longer than any other. You were exhausted. You just wanted to get some sleep.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none, other than extreme fluff with one cowboy.

---

You and Arthur had spent the day hunting, gathering supplies and various items requested by fellow camp members, all while committing petty crimes along the way. Hunting always made you incredibly sore to the point where other members had taken notice. Ms. Grimshaw always assured there were other ways for you to earn your keep, but you brushed the offers off. Despite the aching, hunting was always your favorite pastime to share with Arthur.

After rounding up your hunts, you and Arthur decided to head back to camp. When you both approached your horse, Arthur saddled up first, then reached out his arm for you to hop on. On the way back, nightfall slowly began to creep into The Heartlands. Arthur had spent any free-breathing second scribbling away in his journal, which soon became the quickly discussed topic on the ride back.

“What’d ya draw today?” you questioned.

Despite not seeing his face, you could feel tints of red smearing across his face, and the heat coming off of it.

“Uhh.. scenery? Not real sure, jus’ random things I saw beauty in, I suppose,” he laughed nervously.

You were both usually quiet after strenuous days like today. Occasionally, you mumble-sang random songs together or pointed out breathtaking views. There was always something about talking to you that made Arthur’s heart skip beats, and his palms drown in his own sweat. Speaking his true mind was always a difficult task.

Once you arrived at camp, the day turned into a deep pitch black, only to be combated by the bright illumination of the campfire. Arthur hopped off first to hitch the horse, then came back around to help you off.

You both went around saying your hellos to those still awake, and gave your hunted animals over to Pearson.

After handing over the hunted animals, you and Arthur went back to your tent to drop a couple of things off, and to turn in for the night.

You sat down on your shared cot and quietly watched Arthur rustle through his satchel before finally placing it down on the table.

Before coming over to sit down, Arthur mumbled, “Shit -- I’ll be right back, just forgot to do somethin’.”

“Y’alright?” you questioned him.

“Yeah. Just forgot to.. to give everyone their things. I hope they’re still awake. Shouldn’t be too much trouble, I’ll be back in a minute,” Arthur said as he shuffled through his satchel, picking out the few items that camp members had requested.

After Arthur left, you dug through his satchel, took out his journal, and began to flip through his beautiful paragraphs and illustrations.

Arthur knew you read his paragraphs and looked at his drawings. It was mostly because of how you spoke about different things, and how you would try to compliment him on his art, which was never received well. He was self-conscious about his art and writing being seen by anybody else; it initially was for his eyes only. As time went on, he grew less worried about your reading, as long as it was only you seeing his work. He never believed you when you tried to compliment him on his art, and would sometimes grow defensive if he thought you were kidding. You would never do such a thing, but he suspected otherwise.

Flipping through the pages, you finally found his writing and drawings from that day. On one side of the page, he wrote a small blurb about enjoying hunting with you, and how beautiful the scenery was. You laughed a little bit, before flipping the page to see his daily drawing.

Tears immediately filled your eyes and trickled down your face. You glided your fingers across the page. His daily drawing was a beautiful portrait of you, "Muse" scrawled hastily underneath. You closed the journal and slipped it back into his satchel.

You sat down on your cot and continued to happily cry with the cheesiest smile smeared across your face. You meant the world to Arthur, but he always struggled to outright say so. You raised your head to Arthur’s return, still teary-eyed.

“I’m back, y’alright?” he questioned. He seemed mildly puzzled.

“Yeah~ I’m alright. Nothin’ to worry about,” you responded.

But Arthur knew exactly what to worry about.

Arthur felt his heart begin to race out of embarrassment. He felt loved, but he also felt his usual sense of guilt. He didn’t believe that he deserved to be loved by such a beautiful person like you. After Mary had left, he grew afraid of history repeating itself.

Arthur didn’t know what to say or do other than nod his head, and mumble, “Thanks.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes, so you gazed off into the void behind him.

“Don’t mention it, Morgan.”

Once you stood up, Arthur pulled you tightly into his arms. While nearly suffocating, you were welcomed by the soft aromas of pine and whiskey, mixed in with sweat. You felt at home.

Arthur loosened his hold on you with one arm and used the other to gently ruffle your hair.

“I care about you, Darlin’... so, so much,” Arthur mumbled into your ear.

Arthur could feel you smiling deep into his chest. He pulled you away so he could gaze into your gorgeous eyes.

“You’re my world, Y/N,” Arthur said as he carefully dragged his thumb across your face, wiping away the remainder of your tears. “You’ve turned me into a goddamned fool”.

You pulled him back in and kissed his cheek, his stubble scraping against your skin. You felt a sudden temperature change in his face.

You carefully pulled away while tracing his jawline, only to have him tug you back in and give you a quick smooch on the lips.

“You’re so handsome,” you said.

He gave you a puzzled look and chuckled. “Maybe it’s time to visit the eye doctor then?”

You playfully shook your head. “Don’t think so, cowboy”.

Your mutual flirtations were interrupted by bellowing thunder and heavy rain, and nearly every camp member rising to their feet.

“Sonuvabitch,” Arthur sighed. “Let’s go help out.”

Everyone rushed to get their belongings out of the rain and load them back into the proper wagons. Thank God there wasn’t much to move around. You and Arthur were both completely drenched in no time, but kept on loading the wagons.

“Everyone alright?” Arthur called out.

“Yes, Mr. Morgan," "Yes, Arthur,” various voices across camp responded.

“Alright, Just a bit of thunder and rain, nothin’ to worry about. Let’s try to get some rest.”

As everyone went back to sleep, you and Arthur headed back to your wagon and tent.

You looked and felt like shit, and so did Arthur. You were both overworked, exhausted, and soaking wet from the rain -- not to mention the deep aching pain throughout your neck, back, and shoulders.

Arthur walked over to the small area where you both kept your pajamas and took them out.

“Here ya go,” he said in a deep, exhausted tone.

“Thanks,” you responded.

As you took your pajamas from Arthur, you gave him a small head notion for him to put his eyes elsewhere, or to turn around.

“Alright,” he said as he turned around and covered his eyes. “I won’t look at ya.”

“Thanks,” you said as you finished getting dressed, pulling your shirt over your head. “‘Free to turn around now.”

After you returned the favor, you both crawled into your shared cot. The rain continued to pour hard against your tent.

You snuggled close into Arthur and carefully sprawled your hand across his chest, before putting your head down.

His soft breathing and heartbeat were more comforting and relaxing than he could ever understand. Arthur raised his hand and gently played with your hair, which always sent tingles down your spine.

You could’ve passed out immediately on his chest, but the harsh rain had decided otherwise. You hated it when it poured. Arthur never understood your hatred for the rain, as it always immediately lulled him to sleep. On stormy nights, he would battle the pull of gravity on his eyelids so he could lull you to sleep first. It seemed like this night would be the same.

“Y’did good today, I’m so… so proud of you.” Arthur mumbled into your ear.

His voice had dropped a ton in comparison to when he last spoke. His voice was naturally deep and raspy, but when that man grew tired, his voice sure could tell. He spoke so much slower, deeper, and raspier the more exhausted he was, and God did you find it to be one of the sexiest things about him.

You gently kissed his neck before rolling off his chest and onto your back.

You tried so hard to stay still and quiet, but you mindlessly tossed and turned. Sometimes you would move so much, you would accidentally kick Arthur.

What felt like two hours passed, and you were still wide awake, kept conscious by the relentless aches in your muscles.

Arthur hadn’t slept. Your constant movement, kicking, and whimpers had kept him awake.

“Wh… What’chu whimpering for? Is something wrong, Darlin'?” Arthur slowly said, barely conscious.

“My back and shoulders… they… they hurt so badly, Arthur,” you whined.

You sounded like you were about to cry. You just wanted to get some goddamn sleep.

Arthur laid still for a moment. “I… I have an idea, can you roll over on your stomach for me?” He muttered as he carefully nudged you onto your side, and then onto your stomach.

Arthur motioned behind you and grazed his hand across your shoulder, “I’m gonna rub your shoulders and back for you, is that alright?” he asked. Once you nodded, he applied a bit more pressure, which caused you to wince.

“God damn.... knotted up to high heaven,” he murmured as he began to gently massage your back and shoulders. You whimpered and groaned when Arthur found a sore or sensitive spot, but he could feel you begin to relax underneath him, telling him that his hard work was greatly appreciated. Arthur gradually slowed down for a minute to admire you. He smiled softly as he watched the rise and fall of your shoulders as you began to nod off.

Only ten minutes after he started, you had fallen completely asleep.

“Goodnight, Muse,” he mumbled as he ran his hand across your shoulders.

After a job well done, Arthur slid off of your back, rolled onto his, and quickly dozed off.

He loved to sleep to the ear-pleasing harmonies of the pouring rain, but only if you were taken care of first.

---

an: first fic for this fandom, I hope you guys like it! I’m always open to writing suggestions, feel free to leave some in my inbox.

509 notes · View notes

mermaidssonshipss · 4 years ago

Text

the quiet one

anotha request! hehe this one was cute and i got excited when i read it, so thank you to whoever requested it! sorry it took so long to write it, but ... writers block is a bitch! and work is also a bitch!

warnings: none! bunch of cuteness. some cursing i think.

pairings: jj maybank x reader

word count: 3.2k

For the past three years, every Saturday morning at 8am, JJ Maybank could be found on your property, mowing the lawn to perfection. When he’d turned 18 a year ago and got a real job, he’d quit mowing lawns on Figure 8, but your parents had grown to love him, so they told him if he took every Saturday off to mow their lawn in the morning, they’d pay him what he would earn an entire day at work. What they didn’t know though, was that JJ didn’t plan on leaving them anyway, they were the one family he was happy to continue working for, even if it meant he would have to wake up at 5am to get it done before his actual job.

At around 8:15am, once JJ had gotten everything out and set up and was beginning to work, you would make your way onto the porch, a glass of iced coffee in one hand for you, and an ice cold water bottle in the other for him. You’d offered time and time again to make him an iced coffee, but he’d always declined, saying he felt bad having you make him a drink while he was being paid to fix your lawn. That had never stopped your mom from making him breakfast though, and while he could say no to you, he couldn’t say no to the woman who was paying him.

When he had first started, none of you had any idea what his home-life was like. Your dad had found out first, about a year into him mowing your law, when JJ pulled up one Saturday with a black eye, his chest and abdomen also covered in matching blue and black spots. When you saw him struggling to mow the lawn, clear he was in pain, you ran to your dad and told him, who was quick to go outside and question JJ. At first, JJ tried to play it off, saying he got into a fight with Rafe Cameron the night before, but as your dad had been at the Cameron’s house the night before and had seen Rafe, he knew it was a lie. Eventually, JJ gave in and told your dad everything.

After your dad had shared the information with your mom, she had begun to dote over the boy every Saturday, hence why she had been cooking him breakfast now for the last two years. She would also send him home with food for lunch and dinner for the next two days, and you’d caught your mom sending Luke glares when she ran into him at the market on The Cut you went to often: they had the best peaches on the island.

Though you’d known him for 3 years and shared friendly banter in the mornings when you gave him his water, you tended to shy away from having any actual conversation with him. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him or enjoy his presence, you’d just always been considered the quiet one, and you kept to yourself. You had friends, sure, but none of them truly knew who you were, nor did they ever really care enough to try and find out.

JJ had turned 19 a couple of months ago, and your mom had baked him a cake, your dad giving him an envelope with enough money in it to cover his rent for the next two months. He’d moved out of his dads home and was living in a small apartment on the cut by himself, though you’d heard him complain to your dad that it felt like the pogues never left him alone. You knew he didn’t mean it, as it was clear how much he loved his friends, but the thought of a distressed JJ trying to kick his friends out had made you giggle.

***

“Dude... you’re whipped,” Pope gave JJ a hard pat on the back, shaking his head at the blonde boy in front of him. JJ glared, snatching the wrapped up box from Pope’s hand.

“Shut up, Pope, I’m not whipped.”

“You’re whipped,” John B piped in, and JJ lifted his middle finger up at him, “We’ve had to listen to you sigh over this girl the last 3 years, and you’ve barely even talked to her.”

“We’ve talked!”

“Yeah, when she’s offering to make you an iced coffee and you say no. Which, you’re fucking stupid for by the way. Iced coffee is the shit.”

“I try to talk to her dude. But I just get.. nervous?” He questioned, not sure if that was the correct wording. Girls didn’t make JJ Maybank nervous, but for some reason, you did. “She’s just always so into her books and I don’t wanna disturb her. She’s also the prettiest girl on this island... she isn’t gonna give me the time of day.” JJ huffed, collapsing down onto the couch next to John B, the brunette shaking his head at him.

“Her parents love you, clearly, so that already gives you an advantage. Also, she comes and sits out on the porch every Saturday. And she’s been doing it for 3 years. She’s clearly doing it for a reason,” Pope piped in, swiping a coke out of JJ’s fridge.

“You like her. She clearly goes out of her way to see you so if she doesn’t already like you, she’s close. Just... I don’t know. Be JJ and get her to like you,” John B was useless, JJ had decided, shaking his head as he pushed himself back to his feet and snatched his car keys from the kitchen table.

“Clean up your shit!” JJ called over his shoulder as he took off out the front door, making his way to his car to head to your house.

***

The sun outside fought its way through your thin curtains, the light assaulting your closed eyelids, causing them to flutter open as you turned your face away from the window. You blew out a breath of air before reaching onto your nightstand and snatching your phone. Your notifications were full of texts and social media posts, everyone wishing you a happy birthday, and you smiled for a moment before tossing the phone into your sheets and pulling yourself out of bed.

By the time you had finished showering and thrown on a pair of simple frayed jean short shorts and a green cropped tube top, it was already 8:10am. You huffed, deciding to skip doing your makeup as you tossed your wet hair into a messy bun, your feet moving quickly down the stairs.

As you entered the kitchen, you could hear the lawn mower going off in the backyard, and your eyes wandered to the glass doors that would soon lead you out to JJ. You could see him through the glass, his shirt already off as he pushed the large piece of metal across the grass, sweat forming on his tan skin.

“Quit staring, you’re drooling.” your dads voice snapped you out of your trance, your cheeks turning scarlet as you threw a glare at him.

“I wasn’t staring.” you mumbled, moving around the kitchen as you began to make your iced coffee.

“You totally were,” he laughed, and he went to pat you on the head but you dodged him, throwing a spoon at him as a warning. You’d gotten the bun to look perfect, and you’d be damned if he fucked it up. He raised his hands in surrender before bending down and grabbing the thrown spoon, tossing it into the sink, “Happy birthday, kiddo.”

“Thanks dad,” you smiled, pressing a couple buttons on the Keurig so it would start making your coffee.

“Any plans for today? Besides staring at JJ for the next two hours?”

“I WASN’T STARING!” your voice raised right as JJ shut the lawn mower off, carrying outside through the window that was cracked open. JJ looked towards the glass doors leading into the kitchen, his eyes straining to see inside. He could see your dad bent over laughing, but you had moved so you were hidden behind the fridge. He shrugged, turning the lawn mower back on and getting back to work.

“I will kill you.” you glared, shooing him out of the kitchen as he shot you a wink before disappearing into his home office.

When you were done getting your coffee ready, you grabbed a water bottle and your book that was resting on the island, heading outside to the back porch. Immediately, JJ turned the lawn mower off once more, sending you a bright smile as he made his way over to you to grab the waiting bottle.

“Good morning, y/n,” he said as his fingers wrapped around the cold plastic, grazing your own softly.

“Good morning, JJ.” you replied, sending him a shy smile. That was usually the end of your morning conversation as you would generally move to the swing on the porch to read, but today, JJ kept going.

“It’s your birthday.” he stated, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“It is.” you had placed your coffee down on the outside table now, watching him curiously. He hesitated for a moment before moving around you and heading to the porch swing you usually sat on, and you watched as he pulled up the pillow and grabbed onto a pink box that had been hidden.You gave him a shy smile as he handed it to you, the apples of his cheeks tinting an intense shade of red.

“It’s stupid so don’t expect anything wonderful but... yeah.” He mumbled out quickly, his hand gripping onto the back of his neck as he looked down at his feet.

“You didn’t have to get me anything at all, JJ.” You took the box from his hands, your own cheeks matching his. You looked up at him, questioning if you could open it, to which he nodded.

As you pulled the wrapping paper off, it revealed a golden toned leather journal with your name engraved in the middle, the quote “I hope she’ll be a fool- that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.” underneath it in a beautiful script.

“JJ...” you gasped, your eyes lighting up as you looked at the timid boy in front of you, ”How’d you know that’s my favorite quote?” your eyebrow raised in question as your fingertips delicately traced over the engraving.

“Senior year of high school, your school came to my high school on the cut and my English teacher made everyone go around and say their favorite book and quote. You were the only one who actually had an answer. Then a year or so ago you left a book out lying on the porch swing and when I passed it, I saw that same quote highlighted.” He shrugged as he spoke, brushing off the words, but your heart had been racing the entire time as you fought back a wide smile.

“This is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me, and I mean that. Thank you, JJ.” You placed the journal down on the table that was next to you on the porch and lifted yourself up on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around JJ’s bare shoulders in a hug. He hesitated for a moment, not expecting the physical contact, but he quickly wrapped his own arms around your small waist, breathing in the scent of your orange blossom shampoo.

***

JJ had been at your house everyday for the past two weeks. Your dads car had broken down, and apparently JJ was the only one who could fix it. Your dad was willing to pay very generously for his time, so the shop JJ worked at allowed him to come to your house to take care of it. While your dad was away at work, you’d been given the assignment of hanging out with JJ to “keep an eye on him,” though you knew your dad was just doing it so the two of you would spend more time together. And you did. He’d finally begun accepting your iced coffee offers in the morning, and the two of you would mess around in your kitchen each day cooking lunch, seeing what exactly you could make with all the ingredients in the house. While you’d always found JJ attractive, your feelings for him were definitely blossoming into much more. You’d catch yourself staring off at his lips as he spoke, wondering what the red tinted skin would feel like against yours.

JJ had already had feelings for you before the past two weeks came around, but now that the two of you were actually getting to know each other, he came to the realization that while relationships scared him and he’d always shied away from them, he wanted one with you. If he wanted to analyze his feelings even more, he’d hesitate of course, but he was willing to admit that he was falling for you: he had, actually, when Pope grilled him the night before about the amount of time you two were spending together, and how bright the smile on JJ’s face had been lately.

Currently, JJ was leaning over the hood of your dads car, his jeans covered in oil, and your eyes were transfixed on his bare back, following a few sweat droplets as they trailed down the tan skin. You were sat atop one of the building counters in your garage, your bottom lip caught between your teeth absentmindedly. When JJ turned around abruptly, you snapped your eyes up, sitting up straighter as your cheeks turned red when you noticed the smirk on his face, your fingers gripping onto the edge of the wooden counter in embarrassment. Your eyes were wide, an innocent expression playing on your features, and JJ had to stop himself from laughing.

“It’s not very nice to stare, pretty girl.” He remarked, the nickname he’d recently begun using towards you causing your stomach to stir.

“I wasn’t!” You defended, your eyes squinting into a glare, but as JJ’s chuckle rang through the garage, a smile broke out on your face.

“To be fair,” he spoke, wiping his hands on a towel before discarding it onto the floor as he approached you, “I stare at you quite often. Have for the past 3 years.”

As he spoke, your gaze had shamelessly moved down his torso, but once the words he had said actually registered, your eyes quickly moved back up to his shining blue orbs as they watched you closely.

“Really?” your voice came out as a whisper, disbelief riddled in your tone. JJ had always been someone you saw as unattainable: he’d made his dislike for kooks very clear, and he was also notorious on the island for not being into commitment.

“Does that really come as a surprise?” he’d lowered his voice as he was now stood right in front of you, his hands resting on your thighs gently, and you were finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than the heat from his skin on yours.

“I... well... yeah...” you stuttered out, not really sure what to say or how to explain it.

“While your mom and dad are wonderful people, they aren’t the reason I’ve been mowing your lawn for the past 3 years.” At this point, he’d pushed your thighs apart so he could stand in-between them, his body almost pressed against yours now.

“What’s the reason?” the words were rushed and sounded breathless as his thumbs were now rubbing into the skin of your thighs in slow circles, and you’d missed how his head was dipping down so his face was level with yours.

“You.”

His lips were on yours seconds later, gliding against yours slowly as the cinnamon scented lipgloss you were wearing invaded his tastebuds. His nose bumped with yours softly as you titled your head, your hand coming up to rest on his cheek softly as his arms now wound around your waist, pulling you into his warm body as you leaned into his touch. He had your bottom lip captured between his now, his teeth softly nipping at the skin as he pulled on it lightly before pulling away, and you let out a quiet whine at the absence of his lips on yours, pulling him back down and connecting your lips once again.

This kiss was less timid than the first had been, your teeth clanking together gently as you both pushed to deepen it. His hand was now gripping onto the back of your neck, his fingertips pressing into the delicate skin as your hands rested on his bare chest, finally exploring the skin you’d been dreaming about.

A cough caused the two of you to pull apart, you jumping down from the counter and JJ moving back over to the car, both of your faces reddening as you saw your dad standing there, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Finally. That took longer than I expected.” he began to speak, the smirk turning into a smile, “JJ, join us for dinner tonight?”

“I... uh... sure..?” JJ’s voice was laced with confusion, his heart racing in his chest as he’d expected your dad to scream at him, but his reaction had been the exact opposite.

Your dad simply nodded his head before clapping his hands together, sending the two of you a thumbs up as he left the garage, leaving the both of you standing there in silence until you heard the front door close.

“Did he...” you began, your eyes still trained on where your dad had been standing.

“I think he.. planned on this happening...” JJ finished for you, gazes finally connecting. He had a smile on his face, but you were still confused, and your face was still hot as you thought about the fact that your dad had literally just caught you making out with JJ when you’d been denying you felt anything for him for the past 3 years.

“Hmph.” You hummed after a moment, but a small smile was playing on your now swollen lips. JJ walked back over to you, grabbing your hands in his and lacing your fingers together as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I know I’m not known for relationships and shit,” he started, squeezing your hands as you looked up at him, hope filling your eyes, “But I think it’s just because by the time I was old enough to really want one, you’d come into my life, and I couldn’t get you off my mind. No one was you. No one made me feel the way you did, and half the time we only said a few words to each other and the rest of our time together was me staring at you while you read, and I still felt like a fucking 10 year old with his first crush. I want to do this, but I want to do this with you, and only you. And I’d also like to say that Pope helped me rehearse this, because I’m shit with feelings and probably would’ve ended up calling you dude at some point and ruining everything.” You laughed loudly as he finished and he sent you a shy smile, causing you to shake your head in disbelief before moving onto your tiptoes and pressing a gentle kiss against his rough lips, pulling away before he could deepen it.

“I’d like to do this with you, too.... dude.”

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow x reader #outer banks imagine

447 notes · View notes

renjunfromthestars · 4 years ago

Text

more than

Pairing: Mark + reader, Bestfriend! Mark, Childhood friend!Mark

Genre: Fluff, angst, honestly a little bit of crack LOL

Song recs: Best friend + Untitled + Waiting Room (Rex Orange County), Sofia (Clario)

Warnings: Mild swearing and mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 7.0k (my longest fic yet, wow!)

Summary: You’ve known Mark for all your life, and it only takes one drunken night (plus a little intervention with Haehcan) to think that you wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little better...

Notes: The fact that I actually had the patience to sit down and to write something above 3k words,,,,absolutely astounding, amazing, unique, never been seen before…. Mark is a little awk and always works so hard (poor bby), so imagining him as a super stressed pre-med major and oblivious best friend absolutely wrecks me thank you goodbye

----

When you first meet Mark, you’re eight years old, and it’s at church. He’s dressed in his Sunday best: a light blue button up, khakis, and shiny dress shoes. He looks stiff as your mother introduces you two, with his shirt buttoned all the way to the collar.

It’s not that you dislike him, but you think he might dislike you, with the way he avoids eye contact, eyes tracing the floor, your shoes—anywhere but your face.

You see panic flash through his eyes when his mom gently pushes him towards you, telling him to take you inside and reserve a spot in the pews while she catches up with your mom.

He shuffles awkwardly, and wordlessly, you follow him into the building.

The pews are almost empty, with the bulk of them being filled in the front by the old people that usually have nothing better to do on their Sunday mornings. Although your local church is on the smaller side, it feels unusually large with rows of empty pews, almost eerie. You shudder at shadows the walls make with the stained glass, and hurry to your usual spot towards the middle.

If Mark notices your apprehension, he doesn’t say anything. He’s oblivious, actually, not noticing your absence until he’s almost at the end of the rows. When you see him stop and search for you frantically, you stifle a laugh.

He eventually finds you, and after shuffling awkwardly between the pews, makes his way to you.

“This is kinda far, isn’t it?” he murmurs.

“Huh?”

“I mean,” he stammers. “I usually sit closer to the front. ”

You peer at him from the side. “You actually want to pay attention?”

He scratches the back of his head. “Well yeah, isn’t that the point?”

“I guess,” you say, looking at the ceiling. With the sprawling arches and patterns, the designs are pretty, you think.

“You should at least try, it’s kinda interesting,” when you turn your head to look at him he turns away. “Only if you want to, of course.” he adds, fidgeting with his hands.

When you tell him that maybe you will, you see him crack a small smile.

It becomes a routine, almost every Sunday, with you and Mark sitting next to each other. Whether it’s closer to the front or the back, it’s a whole debate. You usually give in, because when you walk in, Mark is already waiting for you in the front.

….

“Do you still go to Church?”

You’re laying on a green bean bag in Mark’s dorm room, procrastinating on the midterm paper you were supposed to get started on, well, a week ago.

You think for a second, hand raised to rub your chin, just to tease him. “What’s church?”

“C'mon dude, are you serious?”

“Barely,” you say, standing up to move to sit on his bed. “You should really get a new bean bag, it’s kinda deflated.”

Mark ignoring you, reaches over from his desk to fluff up the bean bag. “It’s because you sit on it so much.”

“Are you calling me fat?” and before he can defend himself you finally answer him, “I stopped going in like, middle school. It would be hard even if I wanted to, to find a whole new congregation, and I’m just busy. Also, it’s so boring, I could cry.”

Mark perks up. “Not if you go with me.”

You groan dramatically, and Mark chuckles.

“Good to know that you haven’t changed since you were eight.”

It’s just your view on church, that hasn’t changed since you were eight. First thing things first, you were 19 now, going on twenty. You’re in University now, your second year. It’s been a blur assignments, partying, coffee and term papers- you don’t have time to think about anything else right now. Except maybe actually starting your paper but-

Mark interrupts you midthought, breaking the silence. “Are you still with that guy?”

“Huh? Who? Yuta?”

“Yeah,” Mark responds sheepishly, avoiding eye contact.

You roll your eyes. “No, we haven’t been together for a while. It wasn’t that important so I forgot to tell you.”

You can tell he's surprised about how unusually calm you are for talking about your first serious breakup, but he doesn’t say anything, instead just scratching the back of his head awkwardly in typical Mark fashion. “He was an asshole anyway,” Mark murmurs.

“What did you say?” you ask, acting shocked. “Mark Lee? Talking shit?”

Mark, embarrassed, refuses to repeat it.

“I’m just saying, he wasn’t the right person for you.” he protests.

“As opposed to who? God himself?”

“I can think of a few,” he sighs, but you aren’t paying attention, instead laughing your ass off on his bed.

“You’re insufferable,” he says, standing up to open the door. “C’mon let’s go, I’m hungry. I know you’re not starting that paper anytime soon.”

…

It’s a routine, seeing Mark on Monday afternoons for lunch. Not Friday, because you were busy getting wasted, and consequently not Saturday, because you were too hungover. Not Sunday, because Mark had church, and you, well, were busy praying to God that you would be able to finish all the work you’d neglected over the weekend as a result.

“I still don’t understand why you choose the worst day of the week for this,” you say over your Kale caesar salad, pushing the leaves around aggressively. The University had a lot of healthy options, which you were grateful for. Grateful for you were not, were for the student loans you had to pay off every month, the exorbitant amount you partially owed to all the local and expensive organic produce the meal plan featured for the sake of being sustainable and health conscious.You could really give a rat’s ass about whether your salad was organic or not; if your weekends said anything about you, no amount of kale could help you (or your liver).

“It wasn’t really up to me,” Mark points out. “Maybe if you weren’t too busy being-”

“Ta ta ta,” you tsk, waving a finger around. “I, unlike you, actually have a social life.”

Mark frowns. “I have a social life.”

Mark definitely had a social life. He was popular, even. As popular as you can be, being a preoccupied Pre-med with perfect grades. Mark is likeable. It’s not like he doesn’t have the opportunity to go on weekends if wanted to, he just chooses not to, deciding to slave away at biological functions, orbitals, and lab results instead. Even now, as he takes his glasses off to clean them, you notice the imprint they leave on his face from how long they’ve been sitting on his face, and doesn’t take you long to find the dark circles that grace the skin under his eyes: he’s exhausted.

You frown too. “You should really get out more Mark. You seem stressed.”

Mark gives you a small smile after putting his glasses back on, and then resumes typing on his laptop. “I don’t know how going out would make me less stressed,” he says, distracted. “I would only be more stressed, knowing the work I have to do.”

“Yeah, but you're pretty organized.” You point your fork at him accusingly, kale falling to the side. “Don’t you usually finish things early too?”

“Yeah, I do.” he admits, and before you can press onwards you’re interrupted by a girl you recognize to be his lab partner.

Goggles in hand, you can see the marks they leave around her eye area, but she’s somehow still annoyingly beautiful, with her glossy straight hair and long eyelashes, but that’s not why you dislike her. She might be the most stuck up girl you’ve ever met.

“Did you do the calculations yet?” she says, turning to Mark. ignoring you. It’s only when you cough in your seat that she turns to you. “And hello, (y/n).” An afterthought.

“Hello Yebin,” You give her a wry smile. “How's the lab?”

“The usual.” she glances at Mark, who seems to be doing some finishing touches on said calculations. “How’s Chem 2?”

Boy, does she really grind your gears.

“It was fine, I actually placed out because I took it in high school.” Not to mention, it was a class for freshmen, and you were in fact, now a sophomore.

Before she can say anything back, Mark claps his hands in celebration. “Done! Sorry it took me so long, I just had to double check some things.”

“It’s no problem,” and with the way her voice drips with a sickly sweetness, you want to gag. It’s so painfully obvious. “Are you still down for tomorrow?”

Poor Mark, always oblivious, stops typing on his laptop and looks up in confusion. “Huh?”

You silently laugh at the expression Yebin makes when she realizes Mark has no idea what she’s talking about. “For our study session? The MCAT is just months away.”she reminds him.

Mark remembers. “Oh yeah, about that, I was thinking we could also invite-”

“Great!” she chirps, “See you tomorrow!” and with a flash of her white lab coat, she's gone.

Mark scratches the back of his head. “I guess she had somewhere to be.”

You roll your eyes for what it seems like the 100th time this week, anymore and they might be permanently stuck to the back of your head. “She definitely likes you.”

“Who? Yebin? No way.”

“Yes, Yebin, and yes way.” You fling a walnut from your salad over to his side, and he cringes.

“What is your problem?” he grumbles, and resumes typing on his laptop.

You drop the subject, because you know any talk on girls is completely lost on him. As you set aside your salad, you peer over at Mark, palm supporting your face. He’s focused, eyebrows slightly furrowed, with his lips mouthing over silently whatever science journal he was reading on his computer screen.

Mark has always been good looking, you think. You don’t know why you’ve never really noticed it before. His nose bridge gently slopes over his face, and his jawline is sharp, having lost his baby cheeks years ago. He works out often too, although he barely talks about it (maybe out of fear you’d tease him for being a gym bro). And with the way he’s so adorably awkward, It’s no surprise really, that every girl friend that you’ve met of his seems to be completely smitten.

Shaking your head, you snap out of it. It’s dangerous to think of Mark that way, you think. You’ve known him too long.

“My problem? I think you’re the one with the problem here. I’m surprised your hair isn't completely gray by now.”

Mark ignores you, probably mad at the fact you tried to start world food war three with him with a walnut.

“Hey.” you flick at his forehead to get his attention, and he flinches.

“There’s a party this weekend at Johnny’s fraternity, you should come.” Johnny, being both your long time mutual friend (who’s demeanor is way too nice to fit the stereotypical frat boy image, really) who has since stopped asking Mark out of respect for his “med school grind”.

“I’m already planning on it,” he responds, and you’re surprised.

“Since when do you actually accept party invitations?”

“Since yesterday, because I’m tired of Haechan bothering me about it.”

You silently cheer, of course, you expect nothing else from Haechan.

…

“I never knew it was so hard to get booze.”

“It’s not hard if you’re 21.”

Scoffing, you turn your head to face the boy across from you. As if he can feel the burn of your gaze on his forehead, Haechan stops typing on his Macbook and lifts his eyes to meet yours.

“No shit Sherlock, but last time I checked, we both weren’t 21.”

The sun had set a half an hour ago, and despite having spent the whole afternoon together, you and Haechan have had yet to come up with a way to secure the drinks you promised your friends for tonight’s pregame. With both of you being certified schemers representing your respective friends, you guess it wasn’t that big of surprise that the responsibility was left on both your shoulders. It beat scavenging alone, and spending time with Haechan wasn’t so bad either, when you two weren’t trying to kill each other.

It was already late, and Haechan had deemed Ubering to the nearest packer store that sold Soju (the sweet sweet liquid of choice) was too much work. You on the other hand, had dismissed that option for a completely different reason. The issue in question was the flimsy, borderline pathetic excuse for a fake ID Haechan planned to use at the packer store.

“Hey it works!” he protested. “You just act like you’re already legal and they don’t even card you. Easy.”

You roll your eyes as Haechan theatrically reenacts his last trip to the packer store.

“I asked him how he was doing, and he told me school sucks. I say to him, ‘Tell me about it, thank god this is my last year!” and as if to emphasize his next point, he flicks his wrist in the air, ID snuggled between his index and middle finger. “And I was on my way. No issue at all.”

“That’s because he didn’t even see your fake I.D stupid. He would’ve called you out on your bullshit in an instant.”

Out of all the different options available, you could not fathom why he chose his fake ID to show that from all the places in this world, he was from freaking Hong Kong. There were fifty states to choose from, other English speaking countries, and he chose to pose as an international student on a student visa. He could most definitely look the part, but after looking at the ID he proudly slaps on the common room lounge desk, you deadpan. The yellowish tint to the card was way too suspicious to be taken seriously.

“I wish we could just ask Mark,” you sigh, and Haechan looks at you like you’re stupid.

“He’s 20, ya dimwit.”

“I know, that’s why I said I wish. You have serious hearing problems.”

Haechan stops typing on his laptop to shoot you an especially heated glare, and you’re reminded again why he’s #2 on your fight list, right above Yebin. First place was taken by the girl you almost actually fought at that one University party a town over, wherever she is you hope she’s having a terrible day.

“If it were not for the rules of this land, you’d be dead right now Haechan.”

Haechan places his head in his palms, and flutters his eyelashes disgustingly.

“But you love me.”

“Yes, as much as Mark loves social events. Speaking of Mark, how on earth did you get him to leave his cave?”

“It didn’t take much,” and before you can call him out for lying, he shushes you.

“Okay, maybe a few days of nonstop begging.” Haechan says as his eyes dart across the laptop screen. You raise your eyebrow. “And I might have threatened to release pictures from the photoshoot his mom made him take when he was younger.”

“I expected nothing less from your evil, evil, mind.”

He scoffs. “Hardly. Just resourceful.”

Resourceful he is, because Haechan is the one who ends up finding a plug for the alcohol that night.

…

A can of four loko, a bottle of soju, and a few shots later, you should be hammered, wasted even. But after 14 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days into college, your tolerance is pretty high, so you’re really just plain drunk. Even so, you’re a little messy (no surprise). You’re not in a state to be trusted with any errands, so you don’t understand why Haechan asks you to pick up Mark along the way to Johnny’s fraternity.

“Why do I have to do it?” you whine, putting your hand over your forehead, and Haechan only laughs at your dramatic display of despair.

“Because Johnny messaged me that Mark isn’t there, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting him flake on me this time. ”

You point a finger at him, and he stifles a snort when you’re off by a couple inches. “Letting him flake on me, me, me as in you! It’s not my problem.”

But there’s no use in arguing with Haechan, and you know it. That’s why you find yourself stomping your way up the second floor of Mark’s dormitory like you’re in elementary school again, having just been scolded by your mom and being forced back into your room.

You knock at his door impatiently, and it feels like forever until you hear some shuffling, and see the door knob twist open. To be honest, it’s probably just a few seconds, but time is different when you’re intoxicated.

Before you even see him, it smells faintly of shampoo and detergent, so you’re not surprised when he opens the door and you see his hair is still half wet from the shower. He’s definitely party ready, and when you mean party ready, he’s wearing the same loose black tee and grey joggers he wears to sleep. His socks don’t match and you try not to laugh, because it would be a bad look for you, to show up intoxicated, and apparently crazy.

“Oh (y/n), what are you doing here? Oh shit is today Friday? I totally forgot, Haechan is going to kill me-'' He looks at you and then pauses, scrunching up his nose. “Have you been drinking?”

“No.” you say sarcastically, but it definitely falls short of Mark because he looks at you like he does not believe you. Good, because he shouldn’t.

He sighs, and ushers you in his room. It’s dark, with the only light emitting from the little steel lamp on his desk, which is covered with his notes, pencils, a textbook, and some highlighters. When you finally make your way to his bed (with difficulty) he sighs again, and you silently scold yourself for having that mini drinking contest with Haechan. If you thought you could handle your alcohol well, Haechan was an absolute monster.

You nearly screech when Mark flashes a mini flashlight in your face, and he tells you to calm down before someone thinks he’s committing murder. He holds your face still with his index finger resting on your cheek and his thumb lifting your chin. You try your best not to squint when he tells you to, instead focusing on his face. He’s so close, you can feel his warm breath on your face. If you weren’t already so flushed from drinking, you suspect you’d look beet red now.

“Well, your pupils still dilate normally, so I don’t think you have alcohol poisoning-”

The world is moving a little, so you plop backwards on his bed— albeit a little harder than expected because he rushes over to you and looks concerned.

“-but I don’t think that’s the problem here.” he finishes.

Your eyes are closed, mainly because his bed is really comfy. “I’m here to pick you up.” and as if to emphasize your point, you wildly start pointing in all directions, hoping it would land on him.

You open your eyes when you feel him grab your finger and turn it thirty degrees to the left, just stopping at his chest. Your sense of direction must be really bad, because it turns out you were pointing at nothing.

“I don’t think we’re going anywhere for awhile”

“Noooooo” you wail, and Mark lets go of your hand to sit back down on his desk, and unsurprisingly, begins reading his textbook again. How he is able to focus with you in the background, you don’t know, but it must have taken years of practice.

At this point, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You shove yourself off the bed and grab his arms from behind him. His roller chair scoots a few inches before he stops it.

“You’re not exactly making great case for yourself here”

“Stop making excuses!”

You aim straight towards the armpits, and you’re confused at the lack of reaction, so you reach over to squeeze his knee. Almost immediately, he crumples over, almost falling off the chair.

“Can you-” he says mid laugh, “please” he gasps, “Stop that!”

You respond by attacking his other knee, and it’s over. He falls off his chair and you go down with him. The difference is that he recovers quickly, and starts tickling you back in revenge.

You’re sensitive, so it feels like you’re dying. You try to use his arm as leverage to push yourself up, but next thing you know he’s toppeling over you. You close your eyes and wait for your head to kiss the cold hard floor but it never comes, because Mark's hand cradles your head, breaking the fall.

When you open your eyes, he’s closer than ever before, noses touching. Lips a mere centimetres away and in a weird embrace, you resist the urge to close the distance.

Mark has always been good looking, especially now, so close to you. You don’t know why you’ve never noticed it before.

When he pulls away he’s flustered, and for the first time, so are you.

It’s an awkward silence, with you still on the floor as he stands up, rubbing the dusk from his knees. He scratches the back of his head and offers you a hand

“Let’s head out,” he says.

“Yeah, let’s.” you echo.

…

Although Haechan berates you for being more than a little late to the party, he’s overjoyed that you somehow managed to show up with Mark. Not that he didn’t have faith in you anyways, he tells you. It’s just that Mark is married to his Biology textbook, and she runs a tight ship. By the time you reached the frat with Mark, you’ve sobered up enough to enjoy yourself normally,

It’s when you wake up in the morning, that you’re not okay. It’s not okay, because you dreamt of Mark, and that’s weird, because you and Mark were just friends, right? And you always will be.

It’s not a big deal because friends dream of friends. Dreams are a product of your own desires environment, you tell yourself, it’s perfectly normal because you spend so much time with him.

What is not normal, is when you see Mark the following Monday, and are worried about it. You’re nervous the whole time, and it gets worse when you slide the little watermelon filled tupperware container across the table in apology for last Friday. He likes his watermelon cut up into little cubes, you remembered (why do you remember?), and you avoid his eyes, pushing a stray piece of hair behind your face.

Mark, oblivious as usual, doesn’t really notice anything until 10 minutes in, as if your lack of rambling surprises him. Munching on the cubes, he asks if you’re okay.

“Yeah, I am.”

No you are not. You are utterly fucked.

…

“But you need to promise me you won’t judge or make fun of me for it”

“Just say it already, Jesus.”

“It’s just so embarrassing.”

“Oh my god, are you in love with me?”

“No!”

When placing your hands in your face, Haechan grants mercy on you, patting you on the back instead of teasing you further.

“I don’t know what else could be so important that you need to talk to me in person. Unless…. it’s about Mark?”

His hands stop soothingly rubbing your back and instead starts slapping it, waiting for you to laugh along with him. When he doesn’t get a response he gasps. Turning his head sideways to face you, he pries your fingers apart.

“No fucking way.”

“Right?” you moan.

“I was just joking, but I can’t say I didn’t expect it.”

You remove your hands from your face and look at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Like, you’ve known each other forever. You spend a lot of time together too. Someone was bound to catch feelings eventually.”

You don’t respond, instead choosing to sulk.

“You know I’m right. You just don’t want to admit it because you’re the loser in this situation.”

Right he is, because you’ve been avoiding Mark for the past few weeks like the plague. You’ve told him that you’ve been busy with your final term paper (you’re not, you’re an engineering major why would you have one?), and although he was a little confused, he was probably also a little thankful because the MCAT was only a month away.

As you tell him about your plight, Haechan listens thoughtfully, “mhming” and “ahh-ing” at all the right places.

“I don’t see how ignoring him helps you at all. I would say to just talk to him about it, but it’s Mark, he probably hasn’t thought about you that way at all.”

“Thanks,” you grumble. “So I’m basically one of the boys.”

“No really, mans might as well be the anemone from Nemo, I’ve never seen him interested in anyone.” Haechan sighs. “This is a tough one.”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something, but I might have to get creative.”

“I’d like to see you try Hyuck.”

…

It’s 9pm Sunday night, and there’s a knock on your door. It’s strange you think, because it’s a Sunday, and it’s a little late to be doing anything.

When you open the door, there he is, Mark Lee in all his 5’9’ glory, with a little bag in hand, in it your favorite milk tea.

“It’s Sunday.” you say, intelligently.

Mark just chuckles. “Yes it is, and your point?”

You step aside so he can walk in, and you’re embarrassed at your current state. For once, you’ve finished your assignments early, so you’ve spent the past four hours in your pajamas watching K-dramas and snacking on honey chips. You must look like a bum.

Mark on the other hand, always looks good, even in some old dress slacks, and an old t-shirt with some holes in it. He smells faintly of antiseptic, so he must have just come from a volunteering shift at the hospital.

“It’s nice of you to drop by,” you poke the straw into the bubble tea. “And thank you for the bubble tea.”

“You’ve been busy recently so I figured you’d need it for the caffeine content, but it’s not like you sleep anyway.” he jokes. “How’s the term paper going?”

“The term paper? Oh right, the term paper. It’s alright,” you lie. “Just a couple of pages left. Beats having to take the MCAT though.”

Mark looks tired, with his hair slightly overgrown and his dark circles hallower than usual. You feel bad—he has a habit of overworking himself; you’re usually there to check on him but lately you haven’t, and he’s kind and thoughtfull enough to bring you something because he thinks you’re stressed.

“Yeah tell me about it,” Mark takes a seat next to you on your bed, head hitting the wall with a soft thump. “It’s going to be all over next week though, I can’t wait. I’ve missed you though.”

Busy silently cursing at yourself for the way your heart flutters at his admission, you forget to respond. Mark frowns, places his hand on your thigh in an attempt to soothe you, and it has the opposite effect—you think you might go into cardiac arrest.

“Is something wrong?”

“N-no.” you stammer. “Just stressed. ”

Mark makes things worse by leaning in closer, gently placing the back of his hand on your forehead. “You’re kinda hot.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, like I think you may be running a fever.”

He hops off the bed, and rummages around in his little black bag, and pulls out a thermometer. He places a little sleeve on the end, and motions for you to open your mouth. When it beeps, he takes it out of your mouth and looks at the result.

“Your temperature is fine, but you should rest. I’ll see you soon okay?” He pats your head. “Take it easy, I know you’ll do great.”

…

You might not have a term paper, but what you do have is a physics final.

The desk area is littered with eraser dust, crumpled paper, and half filled styrofoam cups of coffee that have since gotten stale. You swear to god that Physics was a subject meant to torture, not enrich the lives of college students. At this rate, you were seriously debating dropping out to become a stripper.

Haechan, not sensing your dismay, disrupts your plans to drop out by telling you something that puts a damper on the rest of your day, as if Physics wasn’t doing that already.

“Have you noticed that Mark’s been hanging out a lot with that one girl lately? What’s her name? So-bin, Yee-ben, Ben 10, ”

“Yebin,” you snap. “And don’t ever disrespect Ben 10 like that again. ”

Haechan lifts his hands up, “ I agree she’s a total bitch, but man is she hot.”

“Aren’t you supposed to make me feel better, not worse?”

Haechan’s face softens and for once in his life, looks a little sorry. “All I’m saying is if you don’t do something soon, someone might do it for you. I overheard her saying something about her and Mark going to spring fling together.”

He’s not wrong, but Mark, at Spring fling? At a Darty? Willingly? His idea of a good time was studying.

“You’re kidding,” you scoff. “As if he’d be caught dead at something like that.”

“I don’t know (y/n). He doesn’t really have much else to do now that the MCAT is over.”

Right, the MCAT. He took it last week. You mentally slap yourself for not asking how it went.

“Speak of the devil.” Haechan says quietly, motioning behind you.

There she is through the glass, Yebin, pulling a seat next to Mark, not before sneaking up behind him and planting a fat kiss right on his cheek.

…

Maybe if this were a movie, you’d cry all weekend and he’d make it up to you; But this is real life, so you secretly cry for a week and sulk for the rest of the month, blaming your puffy eyes on seasonal allergies (In real life, Mark can’t make it up to you because he did nothing wrong. He’s also not even aware that you like him, but that’s besides the point).

Despite Haechan’s attempt to convince you that it could’ve been just a friendly kiss, a greeting kiss, a whatever kiss, you insist that you’re done with your little crush, that it had shriveled up and died. Although not so convinced, Haechan drops the subject all together and instead resorts to comforting you in his own way, which mainly just consists of making fun of you about other things.

Mark is a touchy subject, and you’re still avoiding him. Why? You don’t really know. You know it’s not fair to Mark, who is probably very hurt and confused at your lack of communication. Nonetheless, he doesn’t question it, and is so infuriatingly mature with his emotions that you suspect that he even respects it, because he stops texting you after a while.

You feel bad about stonewalling him, leaving him in the dark, but really, what would you say to him?

“Sorry-I-haven’t-been-talking-to-you-it’s-just-that-I’m-in-love-with-you-and-I’m-butthurt-that-you-have-a-girlfriend-of-course-it’s-not-really-your-fault-but-”

You shudder at the thought, because it’s just plain embarrassing.

But really, you’re not the best at expressing your emotions—you’ve never been. Frankly, you’re tired of expressing your emotions because it never got you anywhere. Not with your mom, not with your dad, and definitely not with Yuta, who you dated for a year and half a year just to dump you like you were nothing.

It’s not worth it, to put your emotions on the line for anyone, not anymore. You locked your heart away a long time ago, and you were a fool to let it come out last time, and you like to think you learn from your mistakes.

At least, that’s what you think, until you return home one Sunday night from the library and see a little cup of your favorite milk tea at the door, with a straw neatly balanced on the top.

…

When spring fling rolls around, you still haven’t spoken to Mark, and if your friends catch on, they don't mention it. They know by now that you prefer to deal with things alone, to digest them for what they are and then promptly moving on—you know, like processing a death.

It doesn’t really matter, you think. You and Mark have always been friends, and will always be friends. Nothing more, nothing less. And when you get over yourself, things will be fine.

But really, how can it be fine when your whole world stops every time Mark looks at you?

You try not to dwell on it, even now weeks later. You’re busy getting ready to go out, blotting your lipstick on some tissue paper in your friend Yuna’s bathroom.

“(y/n), you look amazing.”

When you turn to look at yourself in the mirror she’s right; The mascara you put on your lashes really brings out the color of your eyes, and your skin (thanks to Yuna’s highlighter compact) is literally glowing. You feel really pretty.

You turn to smile at her. “Thanks to you.” you tell her, and she gets bashful, pushing you out of the seat and ushering you out the door. You make it down stairs no problem, but she calls you as soon as you walk out the door.

“Yes, I have blotting papers with me, and no, I am not dating Haechan I’ve told you thousands of times-”

“What about me?”

You turn around to find Haechan leaning against the dormitory wall, already waiting.

Embarrassed, you tell her you need to go and hang up the phone.

“How long have you been standing here? Hopefully not too long.” You apologize, but he assures you it’s all right.

“Are you sure your friends are fine with you leaving them early to go with me?”

“Yes Haechan, they’re just happy that I have someone to go with.” you sigh. “Almost too happy.”

He laughs, after looking at you, he pauses. “You look nice.”

“You do too, Hyuck.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would say he seems embarrassed at your compliment.

When you walk into the venue, you’re not surprised at how spacious it is. You’re used to your school going all out, from the kale salads and now, spring fling. They might as well call it spring semi-formal, because everyone is dressed their best.

You see Johnny at the end of the punch table, and he waves, motioning for you two to join him.

“And my favorite couple,” he greets you two, and you almost smack him upside down the head.

“Relax, I’m just kidding.” and he leans in for a hug. “How are you (y/n), I haven’t seen you in a second.”

“I’m good, just been super busy. You were so right, Professor Kim has been really keeping me on my toes in Physics 430,” you laugh. “Every time I walk into the classroom I can feel my life flash through my very eyes.”

He laughs, and you all laugh with him. Johnny tends to have that kind of effect on people.

“How’s Mark?” he asks, and you cringe. “It’s been a while.”

You laugh nervously “ I haven’t seen him in a while either.”

“Oh really. Don’t you see each other every week?”

“Well we used to,” you panic. “Just not anymore because, you know, I-”

“Because you’ve been so busy,” Haechan finishes.

Johnny gives you two a strange look but continues talking anyway.

“Well that’s life. Poor boy’s been studying for the MCAT like his rent is due tomorrow.”

“More like everyday.” Haechan snickers.

Johnny doesn’t hesitate to flame Haechan for his insolence, and begins teasing him for almost failing Calc II (Calc II was kind of hard you admit but that is an admission that will die with you), meanwhile, you’re whisked away by Yuna and her entourage. You glance at Johnny and Haechan, who bid you farewell with a nod of their heads.

It’s fun, you’re having a great time dancing, and eating mini hot dogs on a toothpick (you guess your university had to cut corners somewhere). When Roxanne plays, you and Yuna go wild, nearly knocking over a waiter over with a silver tray. You have so much fun, that you forget that Mark Lee exists until you make eye contact across the floor.

It's no surprise that he’s with Yebin, who looks annoyingly prettier than usual, with her makeup all done and satin dress. She’s pulling him in the opposite direction, but Mark seems to pay no mind, instead staying in place, looking at you. A moment passes, and you see him excusing himself. When he begins to head your direction. You panic.

Before you can even react, you feel an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close. When you finally turn to see who it is, you’re nose to nose with none other than Haechan.

“What are you doing?”

“Just go along with it,” Haechan whispers through his teeth. Your hands are pressed against his chest, and he grabs one of your arms, placing it around his neck.

“Go along with what? Have you lost your mind-”

Before you can finish your sentence, his lips press against yours and your mind goes blank. He tastes like peppermint and aftershave, with his lips soft in the center and just a little chapped around the edges.

When you two finally part, Mark is nowhere to be found, and you don’t know how to feel.

“Haechan I-” you stammer. “I need to go.”

You hurry off, and he doesn’t follow you.

…

When you’re outside, it’s cold; the air is brisk and definitely doesn’t help steady your breathing, it only makes it harder. It’s a lot to process, Mark, Yebin, Haechan. It’s a lot, and you feel like you’re in emotional overdrive, with all the feelings you’ve been trying to keep in for the past few months coming back to bite you.

You sit down at the edge of the fountain outside the venue, and you nearly get soaked. It misses you by mere inches, with the ceramic fish looking at you almost mockingly. You don’t care, with all the thoughts running through your head right now, you think you might go insane.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there at the fountain when you feel something wrap around you, warm like it was just taken out of the dryer. It smells familiar, like cologne and faintly of antiseptic—it smells like Mark.

You don’t look at him when he sits down next to you, legs open, hands crossed. And he doesn’t look at you. It’s radio silent.

“So you and Haechan, huh.”

“So you and Yebin.” you echo.

Mark looks at you for the first time, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh that.” He shuffles awkwardly. “I don’t really like her like that.”

Your head raises in surprise, and you face each other for the first time in months.

“I thought you guys had a thing.”

Mark scratches the back of his head. “Well we do, but it’s just in her head” he says, and you can’t help but laugh. “She came onto me last week, so I finally set things straight.” Noticing your reaction, he just shakes his head.

“I don’t think it worked though,” he adds.

“I would think, you’ve always been too nice for your own good.”

“I just didn’t want to hurt her feelings, you know?” he murmurs. “I feel terrible.”

“You’re not a terrible person just because you don’t like someone back.”

“Maybe not, but I believe not wanting you and Haechan to be together does.”

It takes a moment for his words to register within you, and even after you process them, you’re not sure what to say.

“We don’t like each other like that.” you interrupt him.

Mark looks visibly confused. “Then you and Haechan aren’t??” his voice falters.

“No more than you and Yebin. I promise you it’s not what it seems like.” you tell him and it finally clicks. You’d have to thank the idiot later. Right after you slap him.

Mark doesn’t question it, not even when you start crying. You don’t question it either, unsure of why you’re crying.

“You’re so stupid,” you sniffle. “I’ve liked you for so fucking long.”

Mark pulls out his pocket square to gently wipe the tears from your face, and places his hand on top of yours.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? You could have just said something.” his says softly

“I didn’t want to ruin anything. We’ve always just been friends.”

“I think we’ve always been just more than that.” he says, leaning in, hands cup your face gently.

“Just took some of us a little longer to realize.”

....

“That was very nice of you,” Johnny says.

“Yeah. Very nice.” Haechan echos.

“How long has it been, that you’ve liked her for? Three years?”

“Two going on three.”

Johnny lets out a low whistle, and looks down at the younger boy worriedly. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Haechan glances at you and Mark through the glass, outside the venue. With Mark whispering in your ear and you laughing, you seem so happy; happier than you’ve ever been with him.

“Yeah, I am. More than okay.”

345 notes · View notes

missgarnet · 4 years ago

Text

Baby Daddies Chapter 2

Pairing: ot7 x reader

Word count:1.4k (it’s a little small)

Genre: fluff, and a little bit of chaos

Summary: So... no one tells you what to expect when you and your friends with benefits are about to have a child. (All plans are thrown out the window when your 7 closest friends find out they're going to become dads.)

Warnings: Jin is still the ultimate mom friend, pregnancy

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Link to ao3

Somehow you weren’t surprised to find Seokjin waiting for you once you got home the next week. Even after an 8 hour shift he still had more than enough energy to take over the kitchen and start bossing Yoongi around on helping with dinner.

“Hey Yoongi, remind me to take away Jin’s spare key.”

Jin rolls his eyes as he starts digging through your kitchen cabinets, “You already took my spare key, and the ones I had to borrow from Namjoon and Tae. Besides, I don’t see anything wrong with me wanting to come over and make sure you’re all taken care of.”

“So you broke into my apartment.”

“No, I was just talking to your lovely neighbor and she was kind enough to let us in.”

“And by that you mean you were hitting on my neighbor so she would lend you her key. You know, someday you’re not going to be able to flirt your problems away. It doesn’t work on everyone.”

“With this handsome face I can solve any problem.” He said, blowing a kiss. “Who could say no to my good looks and charms?”

You rolled your eyes knowing this happens at least once a day, “Me, get out of my apartment.”

A face peeked out from behind the couch, “Does that mean we have to leave too?”

Making your way to where Jimin had just popped up from, you took a seat on the couch and looked down at them hiding behind the furniture. Next to Jimin, Hobi was hunched over a stack of wooden furniture pieces and Taehyung was holding a set of instructions upside down as they tried to figure out how everything fit together.

“Yoongi said you were overwhelmed, so we wanted to help.” Hoseok said. “But someone ordered from an overseas company again and none of us can read the instructions.”

The someone in question wasn’t in the room to defend himself, “Where is Namjoon anyway?”

“He’s at the store trying to find a really nice journal. I was with him when Yoongi called and told us that you said something about getting one for all this.” Taehyung said, looking up from the instructions.

The muttering in the kitchen seemed to grow louder as Yoongi took the spoon away from Jin. It didn't sound like either of them were angry, but they were definitely bickering about something. From what you could hear it seemed like Jin was about to start another dish and Yoongi just wanted to have dinner already.

Jin had made far too much food, even for all of you combined. It seemed as though every inch of the table had been covered by some kind of dish that he insisted on adding to your plate. You kept telling him that it was enough, but it had become a sort of game between you two.

“So, how far along are you?” Tae asked as all of you sat down.

“The doctor said I was around ten weeks, so it probably happened when we all went on that weekend trip.” You said right before seeing Jimin and Tae high fiving across the table, almost knocking their plates over. Jin started shaking his head as he passed a small handful of cash to Yoongi. “Do I want to ask?”

“Probably not,” Yoongi said, pocketing the cash.

“Jin owes him money because he overestimated how far along you were, and Yoongi was the closest.” Jungkook chimed in from the end of the table.

“Oh really?” You asked, turning to the maknae, “And how many weeks did Jin guess?”

Jungkook seemed oblivious to the rest of the guys shaking their heads at him as he paused between bites. “He said you had to be at least 3 months, but then he thought you might be closer to 4 months.”

“Interesting” you said, staring Jin down from across the table as he avoided looking at you.

Jin’s ears started turning red from embarrassment, but he was given an escape as the door clattered open. Somehow the sight of Namjoon stumbling through the door and dropping a torn grocery bag had grown so familiar that it no longer surprised you. He started gathering the dropped books as he joined all of you at the table.

Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, “I thought you were just getting one notebook.”

“I was, but then I thought it might be better for all of us to have our own journal.” Namjoon said placing one of them before each of you. “This way we can keep track of everything and add our own thoughts.”

You could tell he’d put a lot of thought into this, picking one that fit each of you perfectly. As the maknaes began helping clean up the dinner mess, you took the time to examine the journals and notice the perfect writing on each front page announcing who it belonged to. The black journal had obviously been for Yoongi, pink for Jin,blue for Namjoon, green for Tae, and purple for Jungkook. But the ones that caught your eye the most were Jimin’s and Hobi’s, the first one had intricate golden designs printed onto the cover while the other was bright red with bold patterns clashing against one another. Only Namjoon would pay attention to that kind of detail on such a small purchase, he really knew each of you better than anyone else.

“Hey Y/N, can we talk?” Hoseok asked, pulling your attention away from the oversized journals. Something felt off and he seemed uncharacteristically serious. He wasn’t always all bright and sunny, but this was more than just being tired or even a small problem kind of tone.

“Yeah Hobi, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to ask if you’re doing ok. Yoongi said you were overwhelmed and I wanted to make sure that nothing was too much. We’re here for you if anything feels too difficult to do on your own. And if you want to share anything you can but you don’t have to.” Hoseok was trying to sound reassuring, but the way he kept emphasizing two was telling you more than what he was actually saying.

“Which one of them told you?” You could see Hobi trying to come up with an excuse as you waited for him to answer. “Hoseok, you know you’re not a good liar and I’m not mad.”

“Jungkook, he was kinda freaked out by all of it. I asked if he was okay and he just spilled everything.” He started grinning at the memory. “I’m happy I wasn’t at the appointment when I found out, but I was kinda wondering if I could see.”

“Of course, they’re yours just as much as the other guys. Maybe you could spend the night like old times, before you moved in with Yoongi.”

After everyone else had headed home, you found yourself laying in bed curled up in Hoseok’s arms as you started up the computer. Clicking on the video, you realized you were really watching it for the first time. You hadn’t been paying much attention during the visit, overwhelmed by everything going on. But sitting in your room, being held by Hobi gave you enough space and comfort to fully take in the video.

It was a little blurry when you hit play, but you could see the fuzzy little blobs on the screen where each child was. When the volume resumed you could see Hobi’s eyes light up as he reached toward the screen tracing each tiny figure. “They’re perfect.”

You smiled up at him, “they are, aren’t they?”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“Hobi, you have always been there for me and everyone else. It’s okay to take a break, even if it’s just a small one.” You wished he wouldn't be so hard on himself all the time, being cheerful and reassuring was great for everyone around him but you couldn't help but worry about it being too much for him at times.

He smiled softly, reaching towards the colorful journal to his side. Leaning over you could see him writing on it’s pages and adding little hearts around the words.

Week Eleven: I saw the twins for the first time today. I haven’t even met them yet, but I already love them so much!

#bts fic #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts ot7 x reader #chaotic bts fic

56 notes · View notes

dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

Text

BTS Reaction | Personal [Song] [Request]

Seokjin: ~ I think it’s time I lay my heart out on the line. I think it’s time to say what’s playing on my mind

Jin's birthday was supposed to be one of the happy days, where you all came together to celebrate but yet here you were at the small bar the boys had rented out and you were staring at him. Watching him be happy with someone else while a live band played in the background, it was some bullshit song about getting out of the friendzone. Everything felt like a personal attack that night since you were struggling with your feelings for your best friend. He looked so happy to be with his girlfriend tonight but you knew he'd be better with you rather than with her. It sounded selfish and self-centred of you but you knew what she was really like and who she really was when he wasn't around.

"FOR HE'S A JOLLY GOOD FELLOW!" You heard the boys all screaming as you walked over to them, they were all singing as Jin clapped his hands together drawing more attention to himself as if his beautiful face didn't do that enough for him.

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy birthday to you," There was a mixture of English and Korean lyrics being thrown in as you watched from the back of the crowd.

"Make a wish!" Namjoon shouted before Jin started blowing out all of the candles turning to his girlfriend and smiling as he kissed passionately in front of everyone. You felt jealous rage through your body so you looked away going to get a strong drink if that was going to be what you had to deal with all night.

"I saw you earlier." You turned to see her standing next to you as she looked over at Jin from across the room, she had one of the biggest fake smiles on her face you'd ever seen and you knew she was trying to play nice.

"I saw you too." You quipped back not in the mood for her snarky comments or how she was treating your friend.

"Do we have to talk about sweetie? You know I won't mind showing Jin and the boys what I found when I was helping you move out a couple of months ago. You knew what she was referring to. A small pink journal you'd kept, it was full of secrets you'd had one since you were a kid but this particular one detailed the love you had for Jin. How you'd been in love with him since you wee kids and still hopelessly in love with him even now.

"I didn't do anything, why do you even have that here?!" You questioned her as she opened up her handbag, she flipped her long golden hair over her shoulder and shrugged her shoulders.

"In case you get any ideas about telling Jin about what you know about me." You swallowed the lump in your throat, you hadn't been able to look Jin in the eyes since finding out what you knew about her.

"That's what I thought doll face, keep up the good work and I'll burn it soon enough." She kissed your cheek and walked back over to Jin who was questioning her on what you were talking about.

"You look like you just spoke with the antichrist." You jumped as you heard Jimin's voice talking from behind you,

"Warn a person would you." You sighed holding your hand over your chest as he stood close behind you.

"Sorry, you alright?" You looked over and she was kissing Jin while holding eye contact with you,

"Tell Jin I said happy birthday, I just haven't been feeling well." Jimin nodded going to offer to take you home but you were already out of the door before he could say goodbye.

[X]

"Y/N! Wait!" You turned around to see Jin running after you in the street, he was panting heavily he must have run all the way from the bar but you were lost in your own world you'd failed to notice.

"Sorry, I feel sick-"

"Don't lie to me, I know what's really going on. Mina explained everything to me." Your heart began to beat rapidly at the thought of them all sitting back at the bar and laughing at your journal together.

"It was from a long-"

"It's normal to be jealous Y/n, we're best friends but she's my girlfriend and you have to-"

"Jealous?!" You asked cutting him off, he went on to explain how Mina had told him how jealous you'd become of her getting to spend so much time with him and how it was so bad you couldn't stand to be around him anymore.

"That's funny. I'm not jealous of her." He waited for you to elaborate and you sighed. He had the right to know even if it meant she was going to reveal your true feelings for everyone to see. It was time to lay your heart out and tell him everything going on inside of your head.

"Look...She's-" You swallowed nervously eyes darting around to look for her in case she was watching from afar.

"She's cheating on you, I've caught her multiple times but I couldn't say anything because she had something on me." Jin didn't need you to repeat it, he believed you. He knew you would never lie to him about something as serious as this and that if you telling him it had to have been true.

"What does she have on you?" You tried to speak but no words left your mouth you were left there standing like a fish opening and closing your mouth.

"She has a journal." He nodded waiting for you to go on,

"It describes how in love with you I am..." You admitted and he nodded slowly trying to come up with something to say,

"We'll talk about that after I've spoken with her." He turned to walk away but you shouted him back,

"What does that mean?!" He smirked at you and sent you a wink,

"Means we'll talk about it when I'm back. Go home." You nodded at him frantically and headed back to your own apartment.

Yoongi: ~I’m sick and tired of being friends, I’m sick and tired of being there

You stared down into the glass you were holding, it was yet another company party at the BigHit building and you were standing alone while the boys were all off doing their own thing.

"You look a little lonely," You ignored Jungkook who'd sussed out last week that you had a major crush on your best friend Mr Min Yoongi himself and hadn't let it go since he found out.

"I'm fine Jungkook, I have you by my side." You said sarcastically as you turned to look up at him, he winked at you and nodded over to where Yoongi was standing with his girlfriend. His perfect girlfriend who was never there for him, you glanced away from her not wanting to catch her gaze. If she caught you looking she'd no doubt have something to say about it. She didn't like the fact that you and Yoongi were close, actually...She hated you because you took time away from her and Yoongi being together which was bullshit because she took all your Yoongi time away from you.

"Leave it alone Kook," You warned him putting down the alcohol if you had too much you'd end up saying something you'd regret and you didn't want to do that not if it meant making him upset. You'd been best friends for years, always the best friend and never the love interest. You hated all of the movies for lying to you for years, telling you that best friends always ended up together when they didn't.

"You could tell him, I mean you're better than she ever will be." You scoffed at Jungkook and shook your head at his statement.

"She's good to him-"

"No. She's not. You're better for him, think about it...You're always there for him when no one else is." Your mind traced back to all of the times you'd been there for him, whenever he needed you no matter what time of day or night it was...

"Yoongi it's 4 in the morning will you please go to bed?" You said as you stared at the back of his head, he'd been complaining of writer's block all week and he'd invited you out to the middle of nowhere to help him on a writers retreat. You were locked up in some cabin where he was trying to force himself to write something that wasn't going to happen,

"I know I can do this Y/n I just have to force-"

"No. No more forcing." You softly closed the laptop lid down and he stared up at you,

"Forcing it will only make it more painful for you to write, you need a break. Take tonight off and tomorrow, we'll go somewhere for a little while to get your mind off of it." He nodded at you, he knew you were right. You were right about everything you always had been.

"Now go to sleep before I have to explain to Namjoon why he's down one member."

[X]

It had always been that way, you were always there for him as a friend. Always there while she was off somewhere else, or with someone else. She never really cared for Yoongi and it tore you apartment inside.

"All I'm saying is that if it was me...I'd tell him." You looked at Jungkook nodding slowly along to what he was saying,

"You're right." His mouth fell open, he was right? Jungkook was never right when it came to things like these. He watched as you walked away with confidence and walked over to Yoongi.

"Can we talk?" His eyes met yours and he nodded leaving his girlfriend behind and following you out into the hallway of the building,

"What's up? Do you have a headache? I can give you a ride home-"

"I want you to listen to me and not get mad at what I'm about to say to you." He nodded at you, shutting his mouth and watching you closely as you tried to find the words to say everything to him.

"I'm fed up okay, I'm sick of being there for you all of the time-"

"W-What? You don't want to be friends anymore?" You could tell that he was getting hurt so you shook your head and grabbed onto his hands trying to calm him down and make him listen to you, his hands darted to your hands that were interlocked and he swallowed a lump in his throat.

"I'm fed up with just being your friend I can't do it anymore. I know you're with her and I can't stand it. I can't stand the thought of it when I know you would be better with me and not her." He stared at you eyes flickering as he tried to process everything that you were saying to him as fast as he could,

"I want you to be with me." You whispered to him, he looked at you before grabbing your face and kissing you roughly. He kissed you so hard that you stumbled back into the wall in shock but you kissed him back running your hands into his hair.

"Whoa." You whispered as he pulled away from you nodding his head as though he was confirming something in his mind.

"I need to sort some things out, meet me at the studio in an hour?" You nodded at him watching him walk back into the party room while you went to find Jungkook and tell him what happened.

Hoseok: ~ I see you out with him and I say that I’m fine, happens everytime

The lights that were shining down on you made you look amazing, Hoseok couldn't keep his eyes off the way you were moving in time to the music that was playing. You always looked amazing but tonight you just looked incredible to him.

"Hyung, talk to them." Taehyung urged when he noticed him staring but he shook his head, you'd been best friends since you were kids and he wasn't about to risk it all because of a crush he had on you.

"You've been in love with them since you were kids can you not just mention it?" He shook his head and watched as the double doors opened, in walked your perfect boyfriend going right over to you and bringing you into his arms. God how he wished that was him instead of your boyfriend that was over there with you, dancing and laughing about whatever it was you both hand in common. He could have sworn it was nothing, all your boyfriend ever talked about with Hoseok was his love for a collection of signed baseballs even though he was sure you didn't like baseball.

"You okay?!" You asked going over to him and panting, you were out of breath from dancing most of the night and you looked adorable like that, all out of breath and coming straight over to Hoseok.

"I'm fine," He lied. It happened every time he saw you both out together. He would tell you he was fine instead of telling you how he really felt about it. How he wanted to do nothing but punch your boyfriend in the face whenever he saw you together because he knew you deserved better. Someone better like Hoseok...no you deserved Hoseok.

"Can we talk outside?!" He asked before his brain even could stop himself from questioning you, you nodded him saying it was way too loud for you in there anyway. You were starting to get a headache, parties like that were never your idea of fun but it had been a surprise party for you by your boyfriend and his side of the family. You took his hand in yours - seemingly a normal action to happen between you both and you headed outside to talk to him.

"What's up?!" You finally took in the cold air and smiled as you felt your body relax, being cramped up in there was starting to get to you. Too many people that you didn't even know crowding around you, dancing for that long it was nice to breathe and have their air be so cold you could see it.

"I'm not okay with you and him." Your world froze and you stared at him, he casually slipped off his jacket and placed it onto your shoulders.

"W-What are you talking about?" You'd asked him back when your boyfriend first asked you out if Hoseok thought it was a good idea and he said yes. He said he thought you'd be cute together,

"Did he do something-"

"No. He's just- He's not good enough for you, you deserve someone that knows you inside and out. Someone who wouldn't throw a huge party just for themselves and invite all of their friends instead." Your mouth hung open as he began to list off how he knew you better than your boyfriend ever could and how you deserved someone like him.

"Hoseok you've never shown any interest in me before." He scoffed at your statement,

"You've never asked before." That was true, you stared at him wondering what your life would be like with him. It wasn't like you'd never given it thought before because you had, you had a major crush on him back in school but never did anything about it because you thought he was too good for you.

"I would have said something but I never-" You shut him up by taking off the jacket and throwing your arms around his neck, he stumbled back before he finally wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and kissed you back pulling you closer to him as he walked back to lean against the wall.

"Shit." You whispered as you pulled away holding your hand up to your lips,

"It won't happen again-"

"I want it to...But I have-" You looked over at the door to the bar you were standing outside of,

"I'll end things, not tonight but tomorrow...That was something," You whispered leaning against his chest wanting to do it all over again but you couldn't, you had to go and start making things go down smoothly.

"I'll call you okay?" You whispered to him as you stood up on your tiptoes to kiss his jaw before disappearing back through the door of the party.

Namjoon: ~ Don’t take it personal but personally I think you’ll be better with somebody like me

Namjoon had done nothing but go on and on about the person he'd been crushing on for weeks and it was starting to bug you. Sure you were his best friend and you were supposed to be happy for him when he found someone he liked but it hurt. Hearing him talk about how perfect she was for him and how he thought she was finally the one. It was starting to give you a reason to give him some distance away from him and the boys and that's what you did. You slowly began to pull away from him, not going around to the dorms as much until finally you were no longer there and didn't have to hear about the perfect girl he was in love with. As much as it killed you not to be around him so much it was better for your heart, giving yourself a break away from him rather than being there all of the time.

"Y/n?!" Your eyes shut tightly as you knew the voice anywhere, it was Namjoon. You'd come out in the dead of night to do some ice cream shopping. You'd taken to eating your favourite brand to make yourself feel better and you were all out, you figured he'd be at the dorms for the night and you'd be safe. You never would have expected to walk out into the supermarket in a pair of sweatpants and one of his shirts only to see him there.

"Hey, Namjoon!" You said faking as much enthusiasm as you could manage at 1 am. He threw his arms around you and you had to fight the urge to snuggle your head into his neck like you always used to do. He smiled and looked at you as you pulled away from him,

"Where have you been?! I've been calling-"

"My phone broke and work has me working so much I don't have time for much." He nodded, he knew you were lying and you knew you were lying but neither of you was going to point it out to the other.

"How have you been?" He questioned watching as you took the brand of ice cream and placed it into the basket you were holding. He knew the brand too well, he used to buy it for you whenever you were going through a rough time and he knew you needed a pick me up. It was your goto brand and flavour.

"Been good, how are you and that girl?" He scoffed shaking his head as you walked around the supermarket together. You used to do this a lot whenever you stayed over at the dorms. You would go for late-night food shopping trips that ended in you both racing shopping carts up and down the aisles until you were eventually kicked out od the store.

"Not good then?" Your heart began to beat a little faster as you realised you still had a chance after all and he shook his head confirming it.

"She turned me down, told me that she had a crush on someone else and was trying to get closer to them by getting closer to me,"

"What a fucking bitch," You grumbled patting him on the back as you continued walking, that was when you noticed his basket. He was carrying all of his depressing snacks and you knew he was eating his feelings away just like you did most of the time.

"How about we have a night like the old days? You bring your ice cream to the dorms? We sit and mope around together?" The invitation sounded amazing but then your heart sank as you realised he saw you as nothing more than a friend but he saw it. He saw the flash of disappointment flash across your face and he wasn't about to let it drop,

"What is it? I know it's not work and I know your phone isn't broken so what is it?" He stepped in front of you to stop you from moving but you tried to move around him, he stepped in front once again.

"We're not going to leave until you tell me what it is that's bothering you." You looked down at the basket of ice cream, you knew if you were going to admit everything to him right now you were going to need a lot more than this.

"Y/n." He warned and you sighed looking up at him,

"I like you! I like you a lot and I don't think you'll be good with anyone but me." You finally exclaimed to him, he looked at you as you continued to rant on about how you couldn't stand to listen to him talk about his crush on someone that wasn't you even if it sounded selfish,

"I couldn't do it anymore-" You were suddenly cut off when he started making out with you in the middle of the aisle, the basket in your hand dropped onto the floor as you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring yourself closer to him as he bent down to pick you up in his arms not caring that you were in the middle of a supermarket and anyone could be watching you through the cameras.

Jimin: ~ I love it when you call me out, you see it in my eyes the way they follow you around

You and Jimin knew about your love for one another but there was never a right moment between you two. You were taken when he was single and he was taken when you were single there was no fighting it. You figured the time would be right when the time was right...It was now. You were both single and lonely during the holidays. Every year your families would come together and plan a huge skiing trip to go away together and you and Jimin were alone in the log cabin together. Skiing wasn't in the books for you since you'd hurt your leg and Jimin told his mum he was going to stay behind to look after you. Make sure you wouldn't do anything stupid while they were all gone.

"Okay, truth!" You called out to him as he walked into the kitchen, he was making popcorn for you while you laid on the sofa trying to rest your ankle up - orders from Doctor Park Jimin himself.

"Why did you and your ex really break up?" You shrugged your shoulders and watched him closely,

"Called him out on all the bullshit he put me through." He frowned at your statement, you and Jimin hadn't talked about what your ex had actually done. You just briefly mentioned stuff to him in passing and he went along with it, deciding that if you really wanted to that you would go to him.

"What did he do?" You looked down at the empty bowl and shook your head,

"Nothing of importance." He hummed and watched as you got up from the sofa struggling to lump your way into the bathroom but managed in the end. He wanted to help but didn't want to come across as clingy so he kept his distance. You stared at yourself in the mirror trying to calm yourself down, you'd done nothing but think about Jimin since you got here. You'd had a huge crush on him since you were kids and he was the real reason you broke things off with your ex, your feelings for Jimin were too strong and you didn't want to lead anyone on. You'd even go so far as to fake an ankle injury so you could

Once the coast was clear you snuck from your bedroom walking across the floor to the kitchen, you'd been dying to eat ice cream all day but if they found your secret stash it would all be gone. You took a coat and one of the torches before going to the backdoor and sneaking out towards the garage.

"I fucking knew it!" Jimin yelled turning on the main garage light, he'd followed you the moment he heard you get up in the night and followed behind you I case you fell over but he was surprised to see you walking just fine.

"You and your bullshit ankle." You blushed as he started to call you out on all the bullshit you'd pulled that weekend.

"Ice cream?" You offered holding up a spoon and waiting for him to join you on the floor while he shook his head at you and sat down next to you.

"I love it when you call me out," You giggled at him scooting closer to him and leaning your head on his shoulder,

"You do?"

"I do." You looked up at him and maybe it was because you were sitting this close in the dead of night or maybe because you crush for him finally took over your mind but you kissed him. You reached up and kissed him throwing the ice cream tub onto the floor and laying down with him against the hardwood flooring.

Taehyung: ~ I know if I never try, I’ll be sick and tired of being sick and tired

Taehyung was watching you while you spoke with Namjoon, he hadn't known you long but he was already falling love with you hard and fast.

"Namjoon you're being an idiot." You laughed looking over in Taehyung's direction, he was looking at you like Namjoon said but it didn't make everything he'd said right. Namjoon was claiming that Taehyung had a crush on you but you didn't believe him, mostly because Taehyung had barley known you and all you wanted to do was kiss him since the moment you'd seen him.

"I'm not, he told Jimin and Jimin told Jungkook who told Jin who told me." You scoffed at their game of Chinese whispers and shook your head,

"You're all idiots, Taehyung deserves someone a lot better than me." You told him as you pulled your bag over your shoulder, you'd just finished studying with the help of your best friend and now you were heading home for the night. Ready to eat pizza, cry about not being prepared enough and then eat more pizza,

"You know, Taehyung is really good with this sort of stuff. Right Tae!" You stared at him and then over at Taehyung who was making he way over to you to see why his name was being mentioned,

"You're good with painting stuff right?" He nodded and began asking you about the exam that was coming up. You told him what it was on and he promised to help you study sometime,

"The test is tomorrow, drive her home and help her study. Here. Money for food." You groaned as Namjoon tried to make it seem like you were desperate for a study partner,

"You don't have to if you're busy," You told him as you walked out of the door together, he shook his head.

"I'd love to help, plus free food." He winked at you, the wink sent shivers up and down your spine as he did it and you smiled down at the floor not wanting to get embarrassed in front of him.

(X)

"You'll ace it!" He told you as you sat back and took a bite out of the pizza slice you were holding,

"Thanks to my wonderful tutor!" You cooed, gently pushing his arm and smiling as he smiled back at you. It was only now that you realised how close you were sitting together. You'd spent the entire night studying and exchanging facts on different painters, going back and forth with your knowledge and joking together.

"It's getting late, Namjoon would kill me if I let you drive home this late." You said slowly but neither of you moved away from the other, he just hummed at you and stared deeper into your eyes. He was just now realising how beautiful they were the longer he stared into them and how nervous you made him.

"You can take the bed, I'll take the sofa." You whispered as though someone else was in the house but there wasn't, it was just the two of you as you slowly inched closer and closer to one another. His lips touched yours first and you threw the pizza slice onto the table so you could kiss him back, your hands rested on the back of his neck so you could angle the kiss better. He shifted a little and you straddled his lap.

"If this is how every study date with you ends I'll have to study more." Your voice was hoarse after the kiss and he chuckled kissing you once again.

Jungkook: ~ I’m sick and tired of playing games, I’m sick of tired of being second place.

You were sick of being the second choice to Jungkook, always being the one he came to last when he wanted to do something with someone. You were always the backup to everyone you met,

"You need to get over it, it's just some little crush." Your best friend said as you sat in a small cafe together talking about everything you were thinking about Jungkook, it was hard to talk to her about ut though when she was everyone else's first choice for everything...including Jungkook. You knew that he'd been in love with her for years but you also knew he didn't want her to know so you kept your mouth shut.

"You don't get it," You mumbled paying for your drink and getting up, that was when Jungkook walked into the cafe and spotted you both together.

"You leaving?"

"Yeah, I'm going to the movies...Wanna come?" You offered, he was supposed to be one of your best friends lately but he was pulling away from you. He'd flirt all of the time before he pulled away and acted as though nothing had even happened.

"No, what's Jisoo doing?" You looked down at the floor and shrugged your shoulders.

"Ask her yourself." You hissed shoving past him and walking out of the door. Ignoring his calls as he called for you to stop and talk to him. You continued walking until you got to an alleyway and that was when he grabbed you and slammed you against the wall,

"What's your problem?!" You yelled as he held your hands against the wall looking down into your eyes,

"Mine?! What's yours?!" He yelled releasing your wrists and stepping back from you. You rubbed them as you stared at him wondering what was going on in his head,

"Mine? Let's see I have a best friend who is constantly flirting with me and making me think that I'm finally going to get with my crush but then the next thing he drops me like I'm some kind of toy!" You finally snapped, you'd had enough of his bullshit and you wanted him to come out straight with you. No more dancing around it anymore,

"I'm sick of being the second choice! How about that? I'm sick of you coming to me because no one else wants to hang out! Just once I want to be somebodies first choice!" Your voice cracked as you finally started to cry about everything, it was all overwhelming and you didn't know you were this upset over everything until you finally broke down into a blubbering mess.

"Y/n, you've never been the second choice-" You scoffed at him,

"Don't do that, don't lie...I'm done playing games with you Jungkook, you either like me or you don't." He stared at you debating with himself on whether or not he should grab you and kiss you, finally admit to you and yourself that he loved you.

"I'm not playing games," You frowned until he lunged himself at you and entangled you in a heated kiss in the middle of the alley. His hands were cupping your face as he ran his thumb along your skin, you kissed him back throwing your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him.

Tagline:

@writingdreamsnottragedies @snowy-meowl @jooniesdarlingdimples @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @callingmyangel @rjsmochii @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @innersooya

167 notes · View notes