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peoniesnro · 6 months ago

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In Another Universe.

#1. Park Jimin

Synopsis - When you are just another iteration of Park Jimin's girlfriend in a different universe.

Park Jimin × Reader

Genre - parallel universe (duh)/ kind of fantasy/ strangers to ??/ SMUT (will be here in future chapters)/ maybe romance/ angst/ fluff

Warnings - nothing for this chapter except language. However bear in mind that this is going to be INFIDELITY. CHEATING.

Word count - 9k

Chapter Index

…................................................................................................

You wake up startled. Eyes shoot open. Gasping. It’s definitely thunder that woke you up. You can still hear the fading grumbling of the sky. You shut your eyes tightly again, hating the whole world for disrupting the deep slumber you were finally having after lying awake for so long, crying. It’s pouring outside. The whole world is about to wash away, and you couldn’t be happier. Especially, after you humiliated your own pathetic self twice in one day. You want the world to fade away.

You groan into your pillow. Shit! You just want to sleep. Sleep your misery away. Never wake up. So, the world will never see you, and you won’t have to fear facing the world again. Honestly, nothing that happened was your fault. Life is always hard; nobody gets what they want all the damn time. The thing is, that you managed to confess to your long-time crush (or came close to doing so) -a scary thing to do itself - which went awfully wrong. Being rejected is fine. But hearing him say that he has feelings for your best friend, even before you properly poured your heart out, is not. Chan- your boss friend, your almost- year long crush, the man you looked up to- has feelings for Key, your best friend. Your damn fucking best friend. Another groan. Poor pillow.

You have felt like dying from many different feelings at that moment. Humiliation. Embarrassment. Hurt. And finally depression. You were so stupid that you didn’t even manage to pretend to be happy, manage a smile, or hide the hurt that flashed across your face. Chan looked like you slapped him when you gaped at him with a somber look on your face. Asked you if you were okay, and you stormed away. Like the damn fool you are. It’s your own stupid decisions that made your misery worse. You were hurt alright. Hurt enough that you found the one person you should stay away from. Lee Seung, the campus fuck boy, a junior in that. Key would kill you if she ever knew that you were friendly with the moron. You don’t even want to think what will happen after she hears when you say that you texted him first after crying for an hour straight. Asked if he wanted to hangout. Said yes when he bluntly and rudely asked if you wanted to get fucked. The best part? He never fucking showed up.

Oh! If only you could rip your hair out. Maybe you should eat rat poison. Nope. No way. But this is beyond humiliating. How are you ever going to show your face at lectures? At work? How are you ever going to look at Chan or Lee Seung?

You need to shut your brain up and go back to sleep. It’s not good that you’re wallowing in your misery in the middle of the night, thinking about suicide. You take a deep breath and start counting to 100. A method you taught yourself. The perfect way to keep the brain quiet. It takes some time but eventually, it works and makes your brain quiet so you can breathe peacefully. Can hear the pitter patter of raindrops against the windows.

You are at number 65, and you’ll be in dreamland in a minute.

66, 67, 68, 69…. There is a tickle behind your neck. Damn, it ruined the flow, but you bring your hand up to scratch your neck anyway.

70, 71…. There is a sound of a soft sigh behind you. Then your neck tickles again. You can feel a soft movement, like someone scooted closer to you. 72, 73…. Wait? 74.. What? Your entire body freezes while your hand is still stretched behind your neck. Eyes shoot open again, and the drowsiness disappears instantly. A shiver runs through your spine and your throat goes dry like it’s full of sand, heart picking up speed like you ran a marathon. Is there someone… Someone there? Behind you?

You live alone in your studio apartment. Key didn’t come to your place last night, nor did anyone else. Nobody, including Key, has extra keys for your place for security purposes, which means there is no way in hell someone is sleeping next to you. The thought doesn’t do any good for your slowly-starting-to-panic-mind, however. If anything, that makes your heart stop beating entirely. It can’t be, though. You’re just being paranoid, like the times when you watch a horror film alone. There is no one here and all you have to do is turn around and reassure yourself. You take another deep breath, willing your mind to calm down, chuckling to yourself for being an idiot.

You were just about to do that. Turn around and release the breath you’re holding, when a soft murmur reaches your left ear, before a hand snakes around your waist. The entire world stopped for a minute while your poor brain processes what is happening. When it does, however, the last pieces of composure you were holding on to disappear in a blink of an eye. Your brain goes to high alert mode, and a scream leaves your mouth before you could hold it in or think about it. How you managed to get on your feet that fast will forever remain a mystery. You nearly stumbled backward and bruised your ass at the intensity of your movements. Everything you did, however, are wrong moves in your end. You should have woken up silently, left the apartment, and run for your life. Knocked on your neighbor’s door and asked for help.

But no! you didn’t do anything but pathetically scream. You scream so loud that you were certain you woke up everyone within miles. You scream so loud that you make the intruder lose their shit and sit back on the bed. You make that person scream too. You watch the event unfold In front of your blurry eyes, legs buckling, heart pounding in your ears, and feeling like you’re about to pass out. It was all a dark mess where you could only see a silhouette of someone who is stumbling around. Only for minute, though. It all come to life when a table lamp flicker on. And you close your eyes for a split second before opening them again, taking everything into your sight.

A man.

A fuckin man, struggling to get out of the bed.

A man, shirtless and blonde.

A man whom you have never seen before.

A man who is finally on his feet and rounding the bed towards you.

You didn’t know it is possible to be more sacred, more panicked. But you somehow do. Your legs almost give out before you frantically start to look around for a weapon. You grab the first thing your hands- not your eyes- land on, without even realizing it is a stupid table lamp. Even if you did realize, you wouldn’t have cared. You clutch it tightly as you point it toward the man who has made it to your side already, glaring at him. For starters, you don’t want to appear frightened and vulnerable, but strong and intimidating, so he will think you could actually kill him if you wanted. That’s what made you gulp harshly to sooth your parched throat before words leave through your gritted teeth. Tone menacing.

“Do not fucking move!” Thank God, that your voice didn’t quiver. Thank God, you sounded like a murderess. And it works. The man stops dead in his tracks, eyes going slightly wide, confused and hands immediately going up in the air. Still, you make sure he hears you one more time.

“Move a finger and I’ll crush your fucking head. I swear to God, I’ll kill you” The threats must be ridiculous considering you’re holding a damn table lamp. That must be what makes him take a cautious step forward, hands still raised in surrender. You took a step back when he took a one forward. “DON’T” you practically shout when he stops again.

“OKAY. Okay. FUCK okay… I’m not moving” he shouts back. For the first time. Before he composes himself, looking visibly confused. He took a deep breath before speaking again. “I…I’m not moving. So, calm down Liya” he mumbles when your eyes dart on to his. You are sure you hear concern in his voice. Hell, he even looks like he is worried and concerned. It all could be a part of a plan, though, and the part where he referred to a name slips your mind. Too nervous. Too scared. His voice is nothing but a white noise. He takes another breath. “Calm down, okay? It’s okay�� his voice is too calm now, like honey, soothing. And you almost listen to him and lower your guard before he takes another step forward, making you freak out again and take a step back pathetically, despite your threatening words. It’s getting hard to hide the tremble of your body and voice.

“Stay the fuck where you are” you point the table lamp towards him closer, so ready to strike. He stops again; brows furrowed as he looks at you like you are the most insane person he has ever seen. “Hey! Hey... baby listen. I don’t know what’s happening, but you need to calm down”. Another step forward as he speaks. Another step backward now your ass is slightly grazing on something.

What? Baby?

Did he just call you baby? You’re confused. Utterly. There is however, no time to dwell on that when he takes another step, and your ass is now pressed against something. “Who the fuck are you? Why are you in my apartment?” you raise your stupid makeshift weapon higher. He drops his hand down, making them fall limp beside him. “I’m doing what?” his eyes dart around the room swiftly before they stop on your trembling figure, his brows furrowing even more. “What do you mean your apartment Liya? You fucking had a nightmare or something? What do you mean by who the fuck I am” he chuckles humorlessly as he questions. His question, nevertheless, falls on deaf ears. You are already frantically scanning the place following his earlier movements. Grasping everything around you.

The queen-size bed. The bedside drawer on the other side of the bed. The drawer behind you, which your ass is pressed against. The flickering table lamp. A writing table on your right. A full-length mirror on the left side of the room. Finally, the table lamp in your hand and the whole room itself. It screams one thing: lavish. The room is bigger than your entire dusty and rusty studio apartment. And you’re definitely not in your apartment. The lamp falls down onto the floor with a loud clank, the bulb shattering across the floor. It makes the man take a step back, cursing under his breath as you grip the drawer behind you tightly. You feel like you can’t breathe, and your head is spinning uncontrollably. You need to sit down.

“Where am I? What do you want? Oh god, am I kidnapped?” everything blurts out through your breathless mouth. It’s like you’re talking to yourself rather than to him. You can’t come up with a possible reason for him to do this. As far as you know, your parents are middle-class, innocent people who can’t even afford to send their both children to university. That’s how your older sister got married when she was barely 20. They, for a fact, can't pay a ransom to save your ass.

“What? Kidnap? What the actual fuck are you talking about baby? You are literally fucking standing on your own bedroom and…. Kidnapped?” This time he actually makes it towards you. In three long swift steps. You scream, but he is already In front of you, not caring about his feet are getting wounded on the shattered glass. You’re sure he is a psychopath now. That must be why he is calling you baby and saying this is your bedroom. Maybe he is a delusional stalker, or even a serial killer and you can no longer find the courage to act like a bad bitch. You are pathetically screaming and crying when you find your voice again.

“Let me go please. Let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone. I haven’t seen your face�� You close your eyes shut, wailing. Panicking. Breathing gets harder and harder with every passing second.

“Holy shit Liya. What’s happening? Why are you acting like this?” His voice sounds like he is panicked as well. You feel his hands slightly touch your arms, so you immediately flinch away.

“No… NO…” you scream again. “Don’t touch me… Don’t fucking touch me.” There is no place you can go. You are trapped between him and the drawer, with the bed on your left. All you can do is flee to your right. He will catch you though. Definitely. So, you scream and scream until his voice booms through the room, his hands grip your shoulders so tightly that it hurts.

“Calm the FUCK down woman” he shakes you by your shoulders. “Calm down” It’s a demand, and you stop your wailing and screaming abruptly. Pathetic. He bores into your glossy eyes, taking in your helpless state. Wet cheeks and snot running down your nose. You don’t want to die this way. You take back wanting to eat rat poison. You want to live to see the sun rise tomorrow. Fuck Chan. Fuck Les seung. You’re trembling badly but you will try one more time. “Please” you hate how weak you sound. “Please” you are crying again. “Please let me go” your knees are giving up and he is the one who holding you up.

His voice is calm when he speaks again, a note of hurt in his voice, as if you’re hurting him. “God, baby. Hey, look at me. What’s wrong Liya? What happened” His voice cracks. You reluctantly comply. Steal a glance at him. He looks like he’s on the verge of crying. Once again, the name has slipped your mind. There’s nothing you want more than to survive right now. So you start pleading again. “Just please let me go…” You can’t give two shits about his distress look. You want to survive. Live. Struggle through your damned life. “Please…I won’t tell anyone. Just want to live; please let me go” You have never felt this scared before. Never have cried this hard you feel like your throat is about to rip. You struggle against his tight grip on your shoulders, squirming helplessly. He, however, surprisingly takes the hint, letting you go immediately and placing his hands on his hips. Head turning towards heaven, seeking solace or clarity. A frustrated groan escapes from his throat before he turns his head back to you.

“Okay… okay, fine, where do you wanna go?” His voice is shaky when he asks that question, seemingly at a loss. You, on the other hand, are already walking past him, head heavy and sight still blurry, ignoring the sharp pain you feel on your right foot. Probably step on a piece of shattered glass. Even in your distressed mind, that question sounds ridiculous. Like hell you would tell him that. You were making it toward where you thought the bedroom door was, when his hand reaches out to you from behind, yanking you back by your upper arm, turning you around. A surprised and frightened yelp escapes your mouth as your mind start ringing alarms once again, making you thrash in his grip. Frantically, like a deer caught in a trap. He let you go immediately however. Once again. Surprising.

“Sorry. Sorry” He mutters breathlessly. “Sorry, I won’t touch you, but you can’t just walk outside. It’s fucking storming outside” He raises his hands, palms out. Just to let you know he is harmless. Not going to harm you anyway. But you’re not sure you believe that. “You can’t just walk out in the middle of the night when it’s fucking storming... and wearing……” His voice trailed off as he takes the sight of you, again looking confused. You follow his gaze. Oh shit! You’re wearing the skimpiest pajamas you own. Powder pink set with shortest shorts that your ass cheeks are practically out, and a matching tank top. Silk and lacy edges. Your hands instinctively goes to cover your breasts. You are not wearing a bra and he could probably see your nipples peeking through. It’s a little bit chilly here. Least of your concerns. Can’t believe you put effort for fucker who never showed up.

“Shit. No. There is no fucking way you would go outside like that” he finds his voice again. “Get dress first, if you really wanna leave..” Hesitates. Breathes. “That is.” He takes a step back, letting you know he is not going to do anything. Still, you have no intention of lingering in this place for one more minute, let alone changing your clothes. It’s really astonishing, you think, how he willingly let his victim go. What kind of criminal would do that? He is the weirdest person you’ve ever met. And you’ve met a lot.

Simply put, you don’t care. You don’t want to wait here until he changes his mind again. Hence, your violent head shake and abrupt departure through the bedroom door that you yanked open. You break into a sprint immediately, not waiting to take anything into your sight. Spot a short staircase which you descend within a heartbeat and almost make it to the door that look like the main one when you are yanked back again. Your back colliding against a hard, cold, and a bare chest. A gasp leaves your mouth.

“Wait” He pleads. “Fuck baby. Please wait” He begs. “Take a coat at least. Please? A coat.” He sounds like crying. Your eyes widen. Your poor brain is having a hard time processing what on earth is happening. Why does he sounds so concerned? Like he knows you? He is delusional. And you have no time to analyze the best theories about a criminal mind. It’s better to take that coat and disappear while you can.

This time you found yourself nodding your head instead of shaking. And even waiting patiently until he grabs a coat from the coat rack near the door. Take a one long look at his distressed face when he shows it into your hand. That’s only when you truly see him. His captivating eyes, worry etch on them. Are little bit glossy. Jet black brows which are furrowed deeply. Sharp jawline looking intimidating since he is clenching his jaw tightly. A petite and perfectly proportionate nose. On top of everything, the plumpest lips you’ve ever seen, where the bottom one is turning red under his sharp teeth. You take on his entire figure. His bare chest and a tattoo scrawl along his ribs. Can’t read the wordings though since it’s too dark. For a one thing, he looks beautiful, certainly doesn’t look like a creepy seral killer. But then, no serial killer nor psychopath will tatoo ‘I’m a criminal’ on their face. So, you take the coat and turn around, leaving the that place hopefully once and for all.

…………………………………………………......................................

You fucked up. Royally so. You absolutely have no idea where you are going. You are soaking wet, drenched from head to toe. The coat is the only thing that keeps you from freezing to death. None of these streets are familiar. You are definitely lost in a strange street, in the middle of the night, in a torrential downpour, with no source of light except for the occasional flashes of lightning, and nowhere to go. You had turned left when you first left the fancy apartment building and had walk despite the freezing droplets of water that embrace you. You walked, walked, and walked until you came to a T-intersection. Took a deep breath while you hesitate about the direction you should turn before, you decided on the right side. That’s how you find yourself in this seemingly abandoned road where each streetlamp has gone out.

You were cursing the government for poor maintenance while wrapping the coat around you tightly and halfway through that road when you hear something else. That is not water droplets kissing the earth nor the grumbling of the sky. Your poor heart stops again. The first thought that occurs on your mind is that, him who was your captivator (or not) is following you. But when you turn around, oh how you wish it were really him. It isn’t him. Not at all but another man who is obviously drunk and reach to you faster than a thunder. You have no idea for how long you might’ve been followed.

What have you done in your previous life to find yourself running away from a possible threat only to encounter another? This situation, however, is entirely different. You have no table lamp to protect yourself and the man doesn’t give you enough time to prepare before he lunges at you. You nearly fall backward when he approaches you so fast. Fortunately end up hitting a wall behind you. You scream, you obviously do. So loud your mouth tastes like blood. Eyes closing tight as a reflex. Covers your face with your hands for protection that might not do anything at all. Really expects the blow you will receive on your face or body when it never came. You open your eyes right at the time to see the scumbag was pushed on to his back onto the drenched concrete by a mysterious man on top of him. You hear the bone- cracking sound when the mystery man’s fist, whose face you can’t see properly lands on that scumbags’ jaw. You take that as your sign to act. Start to walk backward. Away from the threat. Trembling. Eyes still lingering on the two men grappling in the drenched pavement, trying to figure out who your hero is. That’s when the universe decided to help you unnecessarily; the sky splits up with a thunder, lighting your dark world. Allowing you to recognize the hero who saved your ass. A one long look gave you enough for your recognition. The same jet-black brows, scrunched up. The same jaw line clenched hard. Furious look on his face. Seething. It’s the same man you accused to be a psychopath. It’s him. Your captivator.

You take a shaky breath. Don’t know whether to be happy or not. To run away or stay. Your legs, however, feel like they’re rooted to the concrete. Your body makes the decision for you. So you stay, horrified at the scene in front of you. Have no idea how many times his hand landed on that pathetic-excuse-for-a-man’s face. All you know is that your- captivator turned out to be your life saver- looks murderous. His hands crack the other man’s jaw, nose, and cheekbone over and over again. Scumbag deserves it. He deserves to have his face turned into pulp. But then, he would die and when that happens, you’ll be a firsthand witness. Gosh you don’t want that. You have enough problems as it is. Besides, it’s way too cruel to let your savior go to jail, saving your poor ass. Your sight is blurry as you reach the man. It feel like a dream when you snake your hand around his shoulders.

“That’s enough” your voice is hoarse. “Enough�� you’ll fucking kill him” you are trying your best to drag him away. First, he doesn’t give a two shit about your pleading. Then he stops his assault to turns toward your shaking figure.

“Don’t kill him”

A pair of hands circle around you, engulfing you in a warm hug.

“It’s okay baby.. It’s okay.”

…………………………………………………....................................

You’re back to where you started. Sitting on a fancy couch, trembling violently, wrapped up in a blanket, still soaking wet, and taking in the lavish interior of this apartment. While you were running away, you didn’t notice any of these luxuries. A high-end TV, might be more expensive than your parents’ home. A book rack that holds a treasure. Floor to ceiling windows. A majestic coffee table which must be custom made. And this couch is the comfiest thing you have parked your butt on. He, whoever he is, is definitely rich, and you, a broken second year college student, don’t belong here. Your trail of thoughts are interrupted by the sound of footsteps. You snap your head just in time to catch him approaching you, a steaming mug in his hand. He holds out the mug toward you, asking silently for you to take it. So, you do and are definitely happy to see hot coffee in it.

On your way back to his fancy home, you didn’t really talk. It was a silent walk through the raging storm. He hasn’t asked you anything but has given you this blanket in the moment you were inside again. Hence, your surprise when he sits next to you, carefully evaluating your each and every action. You carefully scoot away. Put enough distance between you. Look at him through your peripherals while sniffing on your hot coffee. It doesn’t smell suspicious. He chuckles softly at your actions. Doesn’t say anything. So you take a cautious sip. Wait for anything to happen. Nothing. Then another and another while sitting next to him. Awkward. Uncomfortable. Less scared. But still distrustful.

You don’t know why you followed him back here. Looked like you have no any other options to be fair. So, here you are, trying desperately to keep your distance. To stay prepared for a any kind of attack.

Still, you can’t help but curiously watch his expressions. Now that there is enough lighting, you can see him properly, even in your peripherals. You were absolutely correct when you thought he had the plumpest lips. Earlier you had thought he was beautiful, now though, under the amber light that creates a golden hue on his skin, you think he is breathtaking. Even when he is scowling. Worrying into his bottom lip. Even then, he looks strangely handsome. Fucking ethereal. Has one of his ears pierced. Mesmerizing. You need to get your brain checked. He is the one who breaks that deafening silence in the end.

“Umm… are... are you okay?” He sounds so cautious, like you’re a savage wolf who needs to be handled carefully. Makes sense though. You avert your gaze from your hot coffee to him. Of course, you’re not okay. You went through hell within an hour. How stupid can a question be? True, he appeared before things got worse but you really thought today was the day you die. He clears his throat as he changes his question, making you wonder if he could read mind. “I... I mean… not in that way. I know you are not okay but...” a sigh. “Are you back? Like… gosh okay...” he is struggling obviously. You can’t be of any help however, since you have no idea what he is getting at. “Are you like…” he starts again. “Are you back Liya? Baby I don’t know what happened, but you are back right?” he turns to face you properly and you gape at his face. Confused. Utterly confused. And then it hits you.

Liya?

He called you Liya? He has called you Liya all this time.

If you think about it, he certainly called you Liya from the first moment. You were panicked and devastated that it slipped your mind. Oh, how foolish. You open and close your mouth like a stupid fish before finding your words. Throat still hoarse due to all the screaming. “Who?” you mumble while still gaping at his face which gets clouded by a devastated and frustrated expression at your question. “I… I’m not sure what’s happening here but I don’t know who Liya is.” You shake your head slightly when he chuckles humorlessly. Dropping his head on to his palms. “You know what? This isn’t fucking funny anymore Liya” he looks back at you before he got to his feet glaring at you.

Who the fuck is Liya?

He is clearly annoyed. Not angry, but annoyed, and that puts you on the edge. Why the hell is he getting annoyed? You scowl at him as he start pacing around. You hate it. “You are fucking making me worried. I mean, what the hell is going on? Are you doing this because you’re mad at me? Still?” He speaks while he paces, suddenly stops to face you. “No. Here’s an idea. Let’s go and get you checked up and..” The loud thud of your coffee cup landing on that opulent coffee table is what interrupts his talk.

You get to your feet as well before you speak. “Oh, you need to stop right their mister.” You probably need a doctor right now but not for the reason he thinks you need one. And you’re trying to be polite. First, because he saved you. Second, because you don’t want to make him angry. “I really have no idea what you are talking about. Listen, I don’t know you or a Liya for the heavens sake and I am really grateful you saved me, but I should go…” Well, you’re not in a position to storm away after what happened. You need to add teeny tiny adjustments to your phrase. “I mean not alone again, but can I use your phone?” “Please” you add that just in case. He blinks at you. Dumbfounded. Takes two steps toward you.

“Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound?”

“No, because you sound more ridiculous than I am.” He makes it hard to stay polite. Nothing makes any sense. He is the one who needs a checkup.

“You are saying you don’t know who you are, and you say I sound ridiculous?”

“Oh, I fucking know who I am. It’s you who is in a misunderstanding here.” Finally, your restraint snaps. You didn’t mean to sound harsh toward your guardian angel who is getting on your nerves again. You readjust your sentence. Less harsh. More polite. Don’t like the way he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Listen, I really am sorry for causing trouble, but only if you could let me use your phone to call someone, I’ll be out of your hair within the next half an hour.” You take a deep breath before you speak again while he just looks at your face warily. Oh how fast things turned out to this. You no longer think he is the danger. Even ask him for his phone. You’re very stupid.

“I really don’t know why you keep calling me Liya, but I’ve never heard of this person. So, please?” You let the breath you took earlier go. He faces heavenward again. Rubs his face tightly so that you worry for a moment he might rip his skin off. Looks at you again. “Gosh, I’m the one who needs help. I need to talk to someone.” He is breathing heavily. “Okay fine. Since you so badly want to talk to someone so that you can go home… Okay, fine, let’s call someone. Wait” he turns around leaving you alone for no more than a minute when he is back in front of you. Holding out a mobile. Looking smug for some reason. You take it anyway and press the power button, revealing the lock screen.

You were about to ask for the password when your eyes land on the wallpaper on the lock screen. It took you a minute to really grasp what you are seeing. And then your eyes go wide, so do your mouth as you look back at him. He looks curious but victorious in a way. “So.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “You don’t recognize the lady in that photo?” It is a hard question in your mind as you look back at the picture. Feeling like the world is fading away slowly.

Do you recognize the lady…?

Holy shit! This might be a nightmare at this rate. You do recognize this lady. You do. Not because you’ve seen her but because it’s you. It’s you. It really is you, with this man in front of you. His hands hugging you tightly from the back. Both smiling goofily. It’s you and him except it’s not you. How can it be you? You are shaking your head mindlessly, his voice reaching your ears from a distance while making no sense. You feel like you missed out on a part of your life. Feel like you just woken up from a coma. Strange part? You can remember your heartbreak and Chan, your humiliation and Lee Seung, like it was yesterday. Your head is spinning again. You feel dizzy so you plop back on the couch. How can you not remember him? Do you even know him? Did you really miss out on your life? Have you really lost your mind?

“What’s the date today?” That question sounds ridiculous even in your ears. But you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve been sleeping for years and lost your memory on the journey. He looks taken aback for a minute. “Huh?... I mean 16th” he answers cautiously again.

“Which month?”

“November. Why are you asking strange questions now?”

Oh! It was the 15th of November when you got rejected. You’ll never forget that. Then how? This doesn’t make any sense. “What year?” He doesn’t answer the question but plops next to you. “Liya?”

“For fucks sake! What year is this?” You are back to screaming. You’re going to lose your speaking abilities.

“2023 Jesus.” He yells.

Your head is spinning really badly. This can’t be happening. The dates match up. You are sure you went to sleep somewhere around 11 p.m. on 15th November 2023. It’s 4 am now so it’s 16th today, so you for sure haven’t missed on your life. How on earth then is there a picture of you grinning widely into a camera with a man whom you’ve never seen before. There is only one possibility, which is that this lady is not you. Of course, she is not you. You can remember your name perfectly, your life, parents, friends, and everything in it. You laugh at your own thoughts. Funny, how you thought this woman was really you even for a minute. This is just a huge misunderstanding. She looks exactly like you. But weird things happen. This man here has mistaken you for someone else. You turn to look at him again, a sympathetic look in your eyes. Sigh heavily in relief.

“Hey, I know this is weird, but this is really not me…” you are interrupted even before you properly start speaking. “Oh, c’mon Liya… What more proof you need?” He rests his head on the head rest of the couch. Groans. “Let's really go and see a doc?” Looks at you with his head turned slightly. It’s your turn to sigh wearily. “No, I’m not sick. At least not mentally. You have to believe me when I say I’m not her.” You point at the phone. “Yeah? Then who the fuck are you?” He is raising his voice at you. Makes you irritated. He has no right to be annoyed at you. Has no right to talk to you like that. It’s really his fault he thinks you’re someone else and probably took you here.

So, you shout your full name at him. “That’s who I am. A second-year college student who has no damn idea how I ended up in your apartment.” Watch him flinch at your raised voice.

He takes a moment at this. “Who?” He questions again. Head raised back and looking at you thoroughly annoyed, mad, and frustrated. “You heard me the first time. I am not Liya. Not this person who you think I am.” He makes you frustrated. This is not your fault after all. “Fine, then what happened to Liya?” He covers his mouth with both of his palms. He clearly doesn’t believe you. Just trying to prove his point. “How the fuck would I know?” You throw your hands in the air. Can’t believe you are kind of arguing with him. Aren’t scared of him that much anymore. He scoffs. Shakes his head. Get to his feet. Starts that annoying pacing again. “Prove” says after a while. You look at him with furrowed brows for a second.

“Prove what?”

“That you’re not her”

Oh… How are you supposed to do that? In all honesty, you don’t want to do that. But it’s clear, he won’t let you go until he is certain, you’re not the person he thinks you are. You think through this for a couple minutes until something pops into your smart but stupid brain. Look at him smartly. “Fine. So, this Liya is your girlfriend? Or wife? I don’t know but you must know her body like the back of your hand?” You can’t help the unsure feeling you get. “Or… not?” You look at him doubtfully. He looks offended. Like he wants to hit you but eventually settled on to a scoff. Pokes the inside of his cheek while giving you a look of disbelief. Waits for you to continue but when you don’t, answers your question. “Of fucking course, I know... Please carry-on” Waves his hand at you. You nod with understanding. “Good I mean a lot of people...” He is giving you a stern look. Fair. What are you actually talking about? “Yeah, of course, never mind. What I’m trying to say is…” You’re interrupted again.

“You’re not asking me to find your g-spot, or something are you?” He looks really serious while your jaw drops to the floor. “What the FUCK! No. Fuck no. I have a damn scar you little...”

“Where?” He is already in front of you. You hesitate for a moment before pushing the blanket up, revealing your bare thighs. Parting your legs to show your scar on your right inner thigh. A result of a stupid decision made by an innocent child. The man drops into his knees immediately, making you flinch slightly. Got his face close to your thigh with wide eyes, inspecting your scar. Oh no. This is another stupid decision made by a brainless adult. You can feel his breath on your inner thigh. It makes your thigh twitch; makes you want to yank from his hair to push him away. He is doing something innocent though. You feel less and less innocent at the act. Thank fucking god you bit your lip so hard that the stupid sound never left your mouth when his fingers grazes your scar. You close your legs shut, however. Nearly crushed his head on the act. Seriously? You feel that safe around this man now? Even your heart is beating a little fast. You maybe need a doctor. He is right.

He looks up at you before he stands up, seemingly unaware of what he did. It’s unacceptable that he touched you. You never gave your consent. Asshole.

He never really touched you.

“What if you got it like last week or something and hid it from me?” It takes you a moment to realize he is speaking again. “It is obviously so old dude… I got it when I was a kid. No fresh scar looks like that” You argue back immediately. You really feel torn between irritated and affected by this man. You are satisfied with your answer, however. He, on the other hand, is very unsatisfied. “Fuck this doesn’t make any sense. You see. If you’re not Liya? Then how did you end up here? Next to me on my bed and what the hell happened to real Liya?” He finally appears to be accepting that he is mistaken. Still, maybe it’s the tone he is using or his annoyed expression, whatever, that is. It makes you think he is accusing you. Or maybe you’re annoyed that you nearly moaned when there are very pressing matters here. “Well, I am not Liya, yes, but excuse me! That doesn’t make me fake, I am very real, and I already told you that I don’t know” You mumble in your best annoyed tone. “Then who the fuck is supposed to know? Me?” He points his hand toward him. Oh, how he is getting on your nerves. How he makes your blood boil for no good reason.

You get to your feet so fast that the blanket falls down, and you ignore it completely. “Yes maybe, How the fuck am I supposed to know what’s happening when I literally thought you were a fucking psychopath who kidnapped me. I walked out into a storm and nearly died. Why on the hell do you think I know what’s happening?” You’re never going to be okay after this night. There’s so much happening that fucks up with your mind. He strides toward you, looking pissed beyond recovery. “You are the one who woke up in my bed. Not the other way around and Jesus, I just want to know where the hell my girlfriend is''

“I really wish I knew where she is, but I don’t.” Shouting and shouting again. “Maybe she is in my place considering that I am here for some fucked up reason and in some fucked up way” That is an idea pop up in your mind from nowhere. Doesn’t even sound logical nor practical but somehow, he looks intrigued. “Yes. Yes. That must be it. I don’t know how either but... doesn’t matter. C’mon we are going.” He turns around before you could even process his words. Turns back for a moment, says. “And stop saying the word ‘Fuck’ so many times”. You barely manage to grab the fallen blanket before he ushers you out of his apartment.

…………………………………………………......................................

His car is sleek. Comfortable. Innovative. Screams wealth. You are currently sitting on the comfy passenger seat feeling dumbfounded, staring at a hospital building where your apartment should be. You have entered the address correctly on to the GPS navigator of this sophisticated car, at the very moment you were buckled up. He has driven you here after following those instructions to the point. Well, you can never rely on technology all the time. That’s the reason he left to check if any mistake happened and to know if someone could point you toward your student apartment center. Where his girlfriend or Liya is.

You straighten on your seat when you see him finally leaving the hospital building. Not so surprisingly, scowling. “Well? What did they say?” You perk up the moment he opens the driver’s side door. He didn't answer until he was back in his seat. Drenched. Raises the heat of the heater and only then turns toward you. “Are you sure you gave me the right address?” He arches one of his black eyebrows. “Yes. It’s not like that I would forget the address of the place I almost lived for a year” You’re getting annoyed again. He has a knack for making you irritated. “So, then you must have lived in a hospital” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly before continuing in a serious voice. “Because there is no apartment center anywhere near here.” He circles his forefinger points downward to emphasize his point. You gape at him in disbelief. “There must be a mistake then. I know my address and where I live. Maybe, your GPS is broken and leads us to the wrong place.” You make your point. Scoff leaves his plump lips. “NGS” He mumbles. “What?” You’re not sure what he is talking about. He points toward the infotainment system. “NG system, and it works fucking well.” He seethes through his teeth. That’s a new word.

“Yeah whatever, I didn’t lie about my address and, no, I did not fucking forget it either” You’re raising your voice now making him clench his jaw.

“Then do you really fucking live in a hospital? You know how this sounds right? You woke up in my apartment. Looks exactly like my girlfriend. Said you aren’t her and you probably are not. Then gave me a fake address…” You nearly slap him across the face at the rage you feel inside at his words as you scream through top of your lungs. “I didn’t fucking lie to you fucking asshole. What the hell would I get by lying to you?” That is a very valid question, but he somehow answers you with a very unrelated question.

“What did you call me?”

“Ass hole. A fucking inconsiderate asshole” You shout within a heartbeat.

“Stop shouting you….” He grits his teeth to stop whatever name he was about to call you. Makes your blood boil. “You stop shouting. Stop acting like this is all my fault when I’m at a damn loss as much as you are. I wanna go home too and…” Fortunately it isn’t him who interrupted your ranting this time, or you will have become a real murderer. It’s a bus, stopping at the bus halt, a few steps ahead. You sigh heavily, giving up fighting. You’re too tired for this. Let your head fall on to the headrest as you take the sight of the bus, and the people disembark. A public bus in the color of black. You let your eyes fall into the license plate for no specific reason. Squint your eyes when you see it’s in English characters. In the color of red.

See now, your knowledge about your surroundings are bad. Really bad to the point you’ll never know how to find your way back home if you ever go to an unknown territory even inside your university. Quite similar to now. Still, you know they don’t use English characters in the license plate. You know that’s not the order of the numbers and characters either. It feels oddly unfamiliar.

You dart your eyes towards the vehicles passing by. Each and every one of them has a similar license plate. Unfamiliar. Odd. Something is wrong.

“Why are the license plate characters in English? And in red? Why not white?” You didn’t really mean to ask those questions. But it’s already out. So, you turn to him. He looks confused like he should at such a question. “What? Well how do I know? That’s how it always was. I guess.” He shrugs. Annoyed. “Please focus will you?” Reminds you of the situation at hand. But you simply can’t. Eyes following every passing vehicle.

“How ignorant you can be” You say before a surprise yelp leaves your mouth when he snatches the phone- Liya’s phone- from your hand. You don’t even realize you brought it with you. You look in disbelief when he types something on it before he shows it in your face. “See”. You are looking at a result page saying, ‘Vehicle registration plates of South Korea’. Goes to images. Shows you dozens of images of license plates. All similar to the ones you saw. “Happy? Then will you just..” He puts the phone away. Keep saying something that doesn’t reach your ears. Wrong. Something is really wrong.

You grab his hand tightly. Surprises him but ignores that. “Gimme the phone.” You demand, feeling like you’re floating. In a bad way. And he complies without question. Gives you the phone unlocked. Cautiously watching you. You start frantically dialing Key’s number. You put the call on the speaker while he looks at you intensely. You both stare at the phone screen in anticipation, only for it to fail even before it is connected. You don’t know who groans. He or You? You dial her number again. And then again and again. The same result occurs every time, disappointing you to a point of crying. So, you dial Chan’s number even though he is the last person you want to talk to right now. Then the same thing happens. It failed. Why? Why can’t you reach them? Why is everything so familiar but unfamiliar?

You sense that he is about to speak when you disrupt him through your clenched teeth. “No. I didn’t get the number wrong. It’s the right one” You’re getting distressed again. You feel like you are about to throw up. None of these shits make sense. First you woke up in a stranger’s bed. Found out you have an identical doppelganger. Your apartment got replaced by a hospital. You fucking can’t reach your friends. The license plate registrations have changed overnight. You almost throw the phone away when he takes it from your hand. You let him as you peer out of the window, trying to breathe. Calm down. Eyes following every vehicle that passed you. Falling at every building. Every person. Trying to find something familiar. You can’t. Even the car brands look unfamiliar.

“What type of car is this?” You turn your head to find him already staring at you. Breathing is getting heavy again. You’re scared, for something you can’t explain. You expect him to be difficult and ask questions. Surprisingly he answers. He is being careful. You might look like a second away from dropping dead. “E.W” He says prudently.

“Is it a popular brand? Luxury?” You straighten your back, bending slightly toward him. You want him to say no. He almost laughs at your question. “Popular? Lady this cost me a fucking fortune and you ask me it’s popular? And doesn’t it scream luxury?”

“I’ve never heard about it” You mumble to yourself. This is fine. It can be that you're an idiot.

Nothing is fine.

“You’ve never heard of ‘Élite’, and you called me ignorant” He huffs. Exhausted. You’re not really listening to him now. Your eyes are back on the road. Nothing seems familiar. No vehicle, building, and wait, what was his or Liya’s phone brand. You look at the phone. Nope. You don’t recognize it either. It’s possible there can be hundreds of brands you don’t recognize. But he is wealthy isn’t he? It’s not like he will use some unbranded mobile. Your voice is trembling again, your brain failing to stop panicking when you hold the phone higher. “What brand is this from” Your questions really must sound stupid. You really do understand why he looks at you like that.

“QS?” He rubs the bridge of his nose while you’re visibly shaking now. “Wait don’t tell me you don’t know that either” He says again as he takes you in. “Hey! Hey! You okay?” You really don’t hear him speaking to you. It’s becoming blurry again. You don’t even feel his hands on you. Don’t realize you are speaking either. “I don’t recognize any of these. Cars, phones, literally anything… I… I c…can’t reach my friends.” You don’t believe yourself. Don’t believe what your brain says that is happening. But in the end, this should be a nightmare or else you are not in your world. Everything you know doesn’t exist. They all are something unfamiliar. Nothing seems familiar.

…………………………………………………......................................

You have a very vague memory of your journey back to his apartment. It’s still raining but the gloomy daylight peeks through the curtains, creating monstrous shadows on the rug beneath you. He is sitting next to you on his couch like earlier. You don’t know what you said to him. Only know that you vented hysterically at him saying one thing. “This is not my world. I don’t know how or why but this is not. Where am I?” You said so many other things as well. Just to prove your point. How things are unfamiliar. Liya looks just like you. Your apartment. Being unable to reach your friends, because they don’t exist. Your mystery appearance on his bed. Disappearance of his girlfriend. Still, however, he doesn’t believe you. Of course, he doesn’t. Only said yes okay alright to make you calm down. Now you’re calmed down. Breathing steady while sitting here next to him. Still feel like you’re in a dream. But find yourself asking millions of questions from him. Reassurance to you and evidence to him.

Who is the president of South Korea? What is the biggest boy band in South Korea? Does he know Taylor Swift? What about Justin Bieber? What is the highest mountain in the world? Has he ever heard the song Despacito? Instagram? TikTok? Each and everything that comes to your mind.

The only answer that matches with yours is Mount Everest.

Even after that he is denying when he falls his head back on the headrest. Tired. Frustrated. Confused. Just like you and you mimic his actions. Sighing heavily. In the end you can breathe again. You don’t believe this either. Or you do believe this. Or you’re too tired to deal with this anymore. So, you’ll just accept.

“I don’t know how to prove that.” You say as you turn your head to look at him. Your word slurs. His eyes are closed. “I don’t know how to believe that.” He says without opening his eyes. His words don't slurs. You close yours as well. You feel safe enough to do that with him now. Just know he had enough time to do anything if he wanted to. Besides, you believe that you’re in a place where he is the only person you know. This isn’t a dream. You had pinched your arm earlier. Hard. It hurt like a bitch. Tried staring at your fingers. Were able to count them just fine. This is very real and he is the only one you know. Then again, you don’t even know his name.

“What’s your name?” You no longer can fight for your defense. Hence, the change of the subject. You miss the way his lips stretch into an amusing but weary smile since all you see is black.

“Jimin. Park Jimin”.

#bts #bts imagines #networkbangtan #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #jimin #jimin scenarios #jimin smut #park jimin #bts reader insert #jimin fanfic #bts au #jimin fic #bts series #bts ×reader

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floralscented · 1 month ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ˗ˏˋ 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟔𝟕.ᐟ ˎˊ˗

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ───── SEASON ONE, ───── ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ───────── PART TWO ─────────

────────────────────────────────────────────

summary. it's the first football game of the season, and all rules are off under the hot stadium lights.

ㅤword count ! ㅤㅤ 2.2k ㅤㅤ content warnings ! ㅤㅤ sports related injury. probably incorrect football terms & descriptions, sorry dad! ㅤㅤ track the season !

stanford was not known for playing football. it was home of the academically inclined, full of students stuffed to the brim with potential, and all of the means to utilize it. that didn't mean that when talent came around, they didn't utilize it. college football was still college football, and if there was one thing that people at home loved to watch, it was a game every afternoon at the start of their weekend.

dean wasn't a starter for the team, just as he'd expected. taylor was, though, which was an interesting bit of information to be dropped on him when he eventually did make it home from the bonfire. you'll never fuckin' believe it, he'd said, and then proceeded to ramble on about cardinal football stats like it was all he knew. dean guessed that taylor was not going to do well on their upcoming pop quiz in history 101, but by god, could he name every stanford quarterback in the last ten years and their numbers.

starter or not, he managed to gather himself quite a few looks around campus just from wearing the jersey, or his letterman. 67 printed in white on the back, a gigantic 'S' on the front breastpocket. hard to miss, which wasn't necessarily something that dean wanted to be. in his head, he already stuck out like a sore thumb.

the energy leading up to that saturday afternoon was electric. the cardinal team spent hours on the green and in the locker rooms, hype building like static the closer they got to the first game of the season. it was hard not to get caught up in it, even if dean wasn't going to get to play that day.

you were there, too. he'd started to notice you more and more. you were radiant as you cheered, your smile bright enough to light the whole stadium in gold. of course, dean watched as much as he could, even if it got him a football to the temple more than a few times.

"eyes over here, dean," taylor shouts, and seconds later, the fourth football to hit him knocks square into his shoulder. "see? easy catch, n' you're distracted by some ass."

dean lets out a scoff loud enough to be heard over the whistles and the faint hum of music from the cheerleaders' stereo. "i'm not staring at their asses."

"i am," taylor says with a shrug of his shoulders, head on a swivel as he turns it to stare at the girls on the sidelines. he ogles more than dean did, and didn't do much in terms of keeping it lowkey. "goddamn, i am." dean scoops up the football and hurls it at him, striking true in his forehead. payback. "hey!"

"eyes over here," dean mocks taylor's earlier shrug, his lips tugging into a wide grin. "hell, you're the one who actually gets to play today. pay attention."

taylor picks up the football, patting it between his palms. "all i gotta do is be big and knock people over. the hell do i have to pay attention to?"

coach greene's whistle blows more sharply. "king! get your ass over here or i'm throwin' you off the team."

dean shoots taylor another brutal smile as he slinks away, tail tucked between his legs.

he's pathetic. he really is. because the moment he gets a second to himself, dean's eyes drift over in your direction, and there you are, already watching him. he shoots you a two finger wave as you lift your water bottle to your lips. even from the distance, he can see the way your eyebrows lift in amusement.

dangerous, dangerous.

his first day on the job and he's already slacking off, making some excuse up in his head that he needs water. yeah, that's why he was walking over to the bench holding the carrying case of water bottles. not because you perched beside it.

"already in trouble, i see," are the first words out of your mouth, holding the water bottle out for him with an extended hand, "what ever are we going to do with you, 67?"

dean takes the water bottle from your nimble fingers, waterfalling some of it into his open mouth. his head cocks to the side as he thinks, popping the top back onto the nozzle. "probably bench me, i'd imagine."

"isn't that already what's happening?"

"touché."

up close, your smile is even more dazzling. dean wants to bottle up your laughter and keep it in his pocket to steel the nerves sparking to life in his veins.

he wondered if his dad was home. wondered if he'd heard about the game that night, knowing he wouldn't show up for him, but maybe he'd think about him. wish him luck. all highly unlikely events, but he wished more than anything that he didn't feel so alone out in this strange new part of the world, that the dreams he worked his ass off for didn't come with the side effect of isolation.

dean clears his throat, running a hand through the already sweat-mussed strands atop his head. "better leave you to look pretty and do your thing," he says on a sigh, "would hate to get on your coach's bad side as much as i am on greene's."

your hand waves dismissively, slotting the water bottle back into the case next to you. as you straighten, your ponytail swings back and forth, something small but enough to make dean's smile slip into one that was more genuine. "kelsey's nice, don't worry."

"right." his eyes drift over to your coach, who somehow seems to be more trigger happy with her whistle than coach greene was. "i'll take your word."

dean turns to leave, his hand clutching tightly to the helmet he held between his fingers. "wait!"

he turns over his shoulder, and that glimmering smile of yours is caught between your teeth, almost shy now, compared to the usual confidence you wore like an accessory.

"good luck tonight, 67."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ────

high school football had nothing on college football. the crowd was a loud buzz in his ears, the smell of grass and sweat thick in dean's nose. it was exhilarating, knowing how many people were watching, how many of them were tuned in to watch the same thing that he was, that he could participate in, if he got so lucky.

so far, the starting quarterback, wyatt, was doing pretty well on his own. stanford was 7-13 right now, losing by a touchdown and the extra point, and about to enter the fourth and final quarter.

dean really didn't want to lose. it was the first game of the season; what precedent would it set if they lost it, and he was incapable of doing something to help it?

he was restless on the bench, pacing the sidelines, teeth grinding together every time a play fell through, or something was fumbled, or there was another godforsaken penalty called.

and he was fine with being restless, as long as they won, because that just meant that the anticipation of everything was grating on him as much as it was the people in the stands. he chews on his mouthguard between his teeth, unable to keep from stressing if he didn't have something to gnaw on.

he was fine, completely fine ─ until cameron wyatt gets taken down to the ground by a berkeley lineman, and his leg bends the complete wrong way backwards as he calls. it's too loud in the stadium to hear it, but dean can imagine the crack in his head, the sound of it echoing around in his skull, and it's all he can do to not wince.

wyatt doesn't get up. king's hovering over him, then he's kneeling, and the refs and officials gather around him like he's a spectacle and not a college junior with a broken leg.

dean watches with bated breath, knowing that wyatt was probably out for the rest of the season. he was holding his ground on the field, worked well with the team ─ what the hell was this supposed to mean for the rest of the season? dean didn't want to think about it. his stomach was turning at the sight of the injury altogether. it was different, when people got hurt, compared to seeing monsters be brutalized. made it more real, more sickening─

"winchester!" coach greene's rasping shout echoes along the sidelines, snapping dean out of his temporary stupor. he jogs over to the shorter coach, stood to attention. "you're in."

two words that nearly stop dean dead in his tracks. "what?"

"you're in. you're the fill-in quarterback," coach greene snaps, waving the papers clutched in his hand flippantly, "get your goddamn head in the game before i snap your leg too, and get the hell on the field."

this... was not supposed to happen. dean had made peace with the fact that his underclassmen days were going to be spent benchwarming, but this made it too real, almost. still, he walks out onto the field and knows there's thousands of eyes on him, thousands, and tries not to balk at it.

there was only a minute and a half left of the game. one. ninety seconds for him to turn this game on its head and win it for them. luckily, he'd been watching pretty closely, was identifying the weaknesses in the other team and how to go about them.

they were second and goal, a manner of inches from the endzone. touchdown would tie the game. touchdown and a point from winning it. wyatt was being wheeled off of the field on a gurney just as dean was getting into position ─ wyatt's position. dean felt sick as fuck.

"can you hear me, winchester?" the comm radio in his helmet crackles to life, and dean manages to rein in the way he wants to jump at the sound of it. "red 32. that's the play i wanna see. make it happen and make it good."

dean glances at his wrist, the codes for the team's plays scrawled quickly onto a slip of paper in his wristband. a pass play.

it won't work. dean knows it won't work, because it hasn't worked any of the times that greene's called it. it was the same play, too, that had wyatt's leg snapped. too long of a hesitation and he'd be taken too the ground, and they'd lose the game.

dean gets into position, aware of the ticking clock, his heart pounding in his chest and drowning out everything else. the roaring crowd, the rustling of cleats in grass, the coach's voice echoing in his head ─ all of it fading into oblivion.

"gold 67," dean shouts, his voice much more clear out loud than he'd thought it be. "gold 67, set─"

it's a rush of adrenaline. it's caffeine straight to his brain, making him jittery everywhere but in his hands, like he can't stand still. the way the team falls into place with his words. in his head, coach greene is shouting, so loud that through the muffled haze of his helmet, dean can hear it there, too, and not just echoing around his helmet.

"hike!"

the linemen launch into action, pushing back at the other linemen determined to break through and snap one of dean's legs, or take him to the ground. they're out for blood, but dean was out for justice. no one hurt one of his teammates and got away with it. they were all the family he had, now, since he knew that his dad wasn't in the crowd, and so sam wasn't either.

he takes a couple of steps backwards, arm raised to launch the ball to a teammate that wasn't open, prompting more than one of berkeley's players heads to snap and redirect their attention.

there, straight down the center, like dean anticipated, is a clear break.

he tucks the ball into his elbow and takes off. here, a brush of an arm against his that he slips out of, there, the shuffling of feet determined to end his short trek to the endzone getting louder as he squeezes through the chaos─

and emerges victorious.

he's never heard something louder in his life, the way the stanford side of the stadium erupts into cheers. his chest is tight with adrenaline, slowly turning around and around as he sees it. so many people they look like red painted ants, their fists raised in pride and joy, all because of him.

dean could get drunk off of this. he wasn't certain that he already was. a breathless laugh falls out of his mouth, and then he's fully laughing, beaming. he doesn't even feel the air whoosh out of his lungs when taylor slings his arms around him in a bone-crushing hug.

"fuckin' a, winchester!" he shouts into dean's ear, and god, does it feel good to be loved, to be needed, wanted.

there's only a few seconds of the game left, just enough to go for that extra point that dean knows from earlier practices that stinson could make. game won.

if only his dad could have seen him now, dean thinks, as his teammates shove him and slap their hands across his back and jostle him around by the helmet, just to see how little dean needed him anymore.

special features !

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤget to know WINCHESTER ! ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤget to know READER ! ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsend in FANMAIL ! ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwanna know when a new episode drops ? join the WATCHLIST !

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#──★ dahlia's jrnl #──★ number 67 #stanford!dean #jensen ackles #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles fic #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic

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heevanly · 9 months ago

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.ᐟ TEASER: LATE NIGHT TALKS : LEE HEESEUNG (이희승)

𝐬yn. : being the host of a college late night radio talk show was a passion project since freshman year of college, but now as a senior, y/n hadn't expected the fame it brought to herself on campus... but maybe it was the recent string of murders that caused more tuning in than ever seen before.

𝐰arnings. / 𝐭ags. : (18+!). series, not sure how many parts yet. gore. horror. college au. humor. mildly suggestive. no smut. slight smau...potentially? character death. enha members as side characters. lsf members as side characters. more to be added.

𝐩airing. : ghostface!co-radio host!heeseung x radio host!fem!reader

RELEASE DATE : MAY 19TH, 2024

TEASER WC : roughly 1.2k

FULL FIC IS OUT READ HERE!

❝welcome welcome welcome toooo SCU 101.85, you’re currently tuning in to the 10 o’clock pm talk show. i’m your host y/n and i’m here with my co-host..” you turn away from the microphone and glance at your co-host, lee heeseung.

“heeseung.” he speaks up into his microphone, shuffling a few papers around.

“and it’s currently a friday night, it’s 67 degrees out with a small breeze too so make sure you wear that jacket!” you chirp.

heeseung snorts and you pass him a look which he returns with a shrug, “you just sound chipper.. s’all.”

“ah.. well our ratings have been going up again.. it’s better than we’ve been seeing these past four months.. so.”

the past four months have been rather difficult for you and heeseung and the radio show. when you started this project sophomore year, it had just been you and your roommate kim chaewon, your ratings were steady in the beginning but had started declining after two months, which made your at the time co-host and roommate, quit. you don’t blame her, you nearly stopped too, which was before heeseung hit you up asking if you still needed another co-host.

accepting his help was the best thing you had done, his roommates jake and jay were all about the technical jargon behind running a radio show, which the reasoning was apparently the three had thoughts about starting a podcast but couldn’t get the timing right to actually get it started, so here they were willing to help you out.

production took off and the four of you found yourselves seeing steady viewers and got to even open a talk line, which was a segment that both you and heeseung took seriously, finding fun in chatting with anonymous students with various complaints they had of others, professors, relationships, or whatever else going on in their lives.

then, out of nowhere four months ago, the viewers started thinning out, causing your small team of four’s good feelings to falter. having been used to success it was shocking to be randomly met with a hard wall and seemingly, no way of getting out.

heeseung and your’s efforts were all in vain as you tried advertising the radio talk show, you had chaewon talk to her friends about spreading the show, heeseung talked to about it to his other friends and also had them spread the word. jake would mention it at his part time job, and jay even mentioned it at a small on-campus event, which he texted that he was never doing again out of sheer embarrassment.

heeseung hums, “well.. i could imagine people have been feeling a bit safer because of us, due to…” he trails off.

right, there's been a few recent deaths that have plagued not only your campus, but the town. you claim they’re very obviously murders while heeseung’s been claiming it’s been various unfortunate accidents. so far the death toll has hit only four, two on campus, one at a campus nearby, and one on the outskirts of town.

“the murders.” you finish his sentence off, gravelly.

heeseung rolls his eyes, but remembers that the listeners can’t actually see that, “you’re so obsessed with these being murders,” he teases.

“well.. it’s quite obvious, no?” you ask.

“ehh, i wouldn’t really say so, besides the two on campus cause they were ruled as a murder-suicide. besides that was two months ago and the one at KTU was concluded to be an unfortunate accident, shit what did they say about how she died again?” heeseung racks his brain, trying to remember how the girl from KTU died two weeks ago.

you scatter your papers around, “wasn’t it something about a lab issue..? their school got to close down because of it, that’s.. uh.. kind of all i remember about that.”

“oh you’re going to hell, haven’t you been following this whole thing since the murder-suicide on campus..?” heeseung laughs loudly and you slump in your chair, embarrassment flooding your system.

you sit back up and clear your throat, “in my defense..”

heeseung accusing points at you, “you! don’t have one.”

“pause, yes i do! rude…. my defense is that the fourth one’s been throwing me off with this whole thing, that i focused a little less on the third girl.” you huff out.

the fourth death was the weirdest in the whole thing so far, it happened a few days ago and it’s been the only one where the person involved wasn’t in the same age range and died supposedly.. well.. naturalistically. it had been a middle aged man, who was on his way home from work. apparently the report and the news claimed his tire gotten flat and when he had gotten out to check on it, he had been mauled by a pack of wolves wandering through.

the police and how they concluded it just didn’t make sense to you, you stayed up for two days trying to determine it all. first, wolves hadn’t been sighted in that area for several months so a random pack coming through didn’t make sense. second, the blood inside the car, how did it even manage to get in there if the man was supposedly outside? the third rea-

heeseung snaps his fingers to try and get your attention back to the talk show, “hey, y/n, quit thinking about it, you’re just gonna make yourself paranoid.. or worse.. obsess over this.”

“my bad, i just need to stay up on all this, our viewers need the information, they deserve the best after all.”

“and the best of the best is from two college seniors..?” heeseung raises an eyebrow.

“absolutely!” you respond, “we’re the only ones giving multiple sides to these events and ways to stay safe.”

“i’m sure the news have been doin all that too though.”

“pff, news schmooze,” you wave your hand at heeseung, “college students don’t care about tuning into the morning news before classes or turning the evening news on, we’re a source of entertainment AND murder mystery, and that’s what eats up.”

“you’re greedy, y/n, soo greedy.” heeseung shoots a grin your way, a way to let you know he doesn’t mean it.

trying to stop a grin from making its way on your face, you roll your eyes, “oh suck my dick lee heeseung.”

“gladlyyy..” he wiggles his eyebrows and chuckles into his microphone.

“you’re a freak..” you gather your papers back up and glance up at the clock, 10:26 pm, time to open up the first talk line segment of the night.

you give a small nod towards heeseung and he nods back and clears his throat, “well well well SCU you are listening on 101.85 and it’s rolling up to 10:30 pm, we got a two minute sponsor for y’all and when we come back live, our callers will be up discussin’ random whatever with us. give us a call at +82 70-5208-6001 and see if you’re lucky enough. again that is +82 70-5208-6001. see you all very soon."

both you and heeseung give a thumbs up to the room in front of you and jay switches your sets off, rolling the sponsor. a few seconds pass and before you’re able to turn to heeseung to just casually chat, the switchboard for the phone calls light up, more so than you’ve ever seen before.

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unboundprompts · 1 year ago

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Fantasy Writing Prompts

↳ a masterpost for fantasy writing prompts

↳ (#) is from my collection of random prompts, (list) contains multiple prompts.

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

I also have a Patreon! Become a member to gain access to a Member's Only Community where you can chat and message other members and myself. Also gain access to my personal writing, which includes completed short stories, chapters from novels in progress, as well as completed scenes.

Royalty/Medieval Prompts:

The Merchant (#21)

You Had One Order - Prince and Knight (#71)

Princess x Guard (list)

Princess x Knight (list)

The Handmaiden in the Maze (#102)

Royal Painter x Knight (list)

Prince x Prince (list)

Thief x Princess (list)

Whispers of Treachery (#184)

Royal Coup D'etat (list)

Prince x Princess (list)

Assassin x Prince (list)

Non-Human Character Angst Prompts:

No-Longer Human Character Reuniting with Friends and Family Part 1 (list)

No-Longer Human Character Reuniting with Friends and Family Part 2 (list)

No-Longer Human Character Regretting What They've Become (list)

Non-Human Character Revealing Themselves (list)

Doctor Finding an Injured Non-Human Character (list)

Betrayed Your Kind (#123)

Quiet Monster x Human (list)

Alien x Human on Opposite Sides of War (list)

Vampire Prompts:

Fangs (#47)

The Vampire and the Girl on Floor 3 (#110)

Werewolf Prompts:

Remnants of Humanity (#169)

I Know You're Still in There (#177)

Mermaid / Siren Prompts:

How to Write Mermaids

Get in the Water (#151)

Phantom of the Deep (#160)

Lungs Filled with Salt (#174)

Pirate Prompts (list)

Gods, Angels, Demons, & Deities Prompts:

Nothing to Do with Fate (#9)

Fallen Angel Dialogue (list)

Fallen Angel and Fallen God (list)

Apotheosis (#112)

Asking for Favors (#137)

Favor From an Old God (#157)

The Gods of August (#173)

Shapeshifter Prompts:

Anything You Want Me to Be (#91)

Shapeshifter x Human (list)

Witch Prompts:

Witch x Fairy (list)

Angry in the Tavern (#158)

Guardian of the Old Ways (#161)

Fantasy Character Description Prompts:

How to Describe a Character with Wings

How to Describe a Character with Bug Wings

The Dream Walker (#140)

Modern Fantasy Prompts:

The Bartender (#23)

Turning to Stone (#105)

Mind Reader on Campus (#134)

Pockets Filled with Shadows (#141)

The Brain Implant (#148)

The Boy in the Library (#162)

Ghost Revealing Themselves to a Mortal (list)

Immortal x Time Traveler (list)

Magical Object Prompts:

Blank Pages (#85)

The Door to Other Places (#139)

The House's Memory (#183)

Math and Science in Magical Battle Scenarios (list)

Fantasy Setting Prompts:

The Town Engulfed by Flames (#67)

Zombie Apocalypse AU (list)

Music in The Dark Wood (#138)

The Sun Stopped Setting (#164)

The Portal to Realms Unknown (#168)

The Astronomer in the Coastal Village (#179)

Two Dystopian Criminals (list)

Fantasy Worldbuilding:

Currency and Time Measurement Ideas (list)

Ideas for Earning Money in a Fantasy World (list)

Problems that May Occur in a Dystopian/Apocalyptic World (list)

Pirate Ship Name Ideas

#writing prompts #dialogue prompt #creative writing #writeblr #prompt list #fantasy prompts

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finelinepie · 8 months ago

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"On The Field"

PART TWO:

Footballrry / Reader

Plot: Dating the football star is not what you pictured happening your sophomore year of college, but it's happening, and you have to keep calm...how does one keep calm when he looks like...that?

Word count: 3.51K

Warnings: a swift kick in the ass. JK, just a punch or two.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

3 MONTHS AGO

“I cannot believe we are even having this discussion right now. You promised you would be there.” Isla whined at me.

“Isla, I am still going. I am just going to be late.” I tried to reason with her.

“Y/N, I can’t go out there without you?!” She yelled, throwing herself on her dorm bed, I rolled my eyes sitting on my bed across the room.

“Isla, you won’t be on the field for the first 20 minutes anyways, I am going to be there for you. I just need to turn in these essays to my professor so I can get this class over with, and since she has meetings tonight in the class room with other students, she is allowing me to drop them off. Also, it is dead ass across the street, please stop being dramatic.” I chuckle, watching my best friend throw her arms down on the bed.

“Okay, the dramatics are done. But I am letting you know that if I embarrass myself in those 20 minutes that my good luck charm isn’t there, that’s on you, Y/N!” She sighed loudly.

“I will take the fall, you have my word. I love you, I’ll see you soon.” I promised and grabbed my bag before racing out. Hurrying down the two sets of stairs and out the door, I make my way across the street to the vehicle that puts a smile on my face everytime I see it.

My 1967 Chevy Camaro. My parents were tuners growing up. They met at an illegal street race back when they were both 18, the grand prize? A dark teal 1967 Chevy Camaro Z28, but not just any ‘67 Chevy. MY ‘67 Chevy. They tied that race and agreed to split the time between them and the car.. That is not how races go, but my parents wouldn’t take no for an answer and the rest was history for them. She is a thing of beauty. With the bold, blacked out grille that has a Z28 badge in the middle, she stands alone in a crowd so beautiful as the white pin stripes make her stand out wherever she goes. She has 15-inch Rally wheels, which are iconic to the Z28, wrapped in Goodyear Wide Tread GT tires. She is perfect and I wouldn’t trade her for anything.

Hopping into the driver seat I push the key into the ignition and listen to my girl come to life. The smooth revving of her engine fills my ears as I pull out of the parking spot I am in. I slowly released the accelerator as I came up to a stop sign, I texted my professor on the group forum that we have that I was on my way and quickly set my phone down. Looking both ways before driving, I pressed on the gas to get to campus.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Pulling into a parking spot, I swiftly turn my car off before grabbing my bag from the backseat, hauling ass inside the building my professor's room is in. I have time. I shouldn’t be rushing, but Isla’s dramatic ass has me worried she’ll purposefully fall just to spite me. She is dramatic AND petty like that. The hallway is quiet and nearly empty as I walk towards her Office. I gently knock on her door, not wanting to interrupt the study session she is currently in. “Come in!” I hear her soft voice speak up. Opening the door, I see the students all sitting in their usual lecture hall spots as she has a powerpoint pulled up on the board. I walked down the steps at a leisurely pace and smiled at her as I made eye contact.

“OH! Y/N! Welcome in, do you have the essays for me?” Mrs. Portello asked with a smile.

“Yes, thank you again for allowing me to barge in here and hand them in. I also want to say thank you for allowing me time on that last essay.You are the best, seriously.” I smiled back while handing her my folder with both essays inside.

“Oh nonsense! Things happen, no need to dwell on it. I am glad you were able to go home for the week and be with your family. I will read these over tonight and your last official grade will be posted tomorrow before noon.” She patted my shoulder before setting my folder on her keyboard. Front and center so she doesn’t forget. “Now, Go enjoy the game, and tell Isla I am rooting for her.” She winked. I laughed loudly before nodding. She must have told the professor something dramatic.

Zipping up my bag I walk up the step towards the door. Opening the door as quietly as I can I am just as gentle closing it, careful to not disturb the students and Professor Portello once more. Making my way out of the building across to the parking lot, I climb into my Camero. Glancing at my phone, I see I have a text from Isla.

Isla ☼ : Hurry up, we have 10 minutes until Kick off!

Y/N: On my way, see you soon drama queen.

I fire up the engine again, listening in pure bliss over the purr she gives me and as the sound fills the air, I am making my way to the stadium.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Pulling into the stadium parking lot, I can already see the lights of the field glowling brightly against the night sky. I find a spot before making my way inside, showing them my photographer badge, I make my way in front of the bleachers next to the cheerleaders. Isla is front and center, giving her team guidance and confidence boosts like she does every game.

The excitement of the game, seeing everything come together for both the cheerleaders, and the footballers and also the prospect of seeing all the students and fans fill the stands lifting my spirits, making me quickly forget about the essays I handed in to Portello that decide my fate.

Isla spots me immediately and waves at me and motions me towards her.

“You made it!” She exclaims, throwing her arms around me.

“Ofcourse I did. I told you it would be quick. Now get out there and show them what you got.” I winked and swatted her leg. She squealed out a giggle and hopped over to her team and then quickly made her way out to the track to cheer for our college.

“You are the best, Y/N!” She yelled to me, but quickly let the smile leave her lips as she got ready to count the girls in. I watch as she stands with the rest of the cheer squad, feeling a sense a pride and anticipation. Grabbing my camera out of the camera back, I am quick to capture her stance, before moving to the left and then the right to capture the other girls in their ready stances.

Isla puts her poms together over her head before shouting loud to the crowd,

“R-O-W-D-I-E, that’s the way we get rowdie, ROWDIE. let’s get rowdie.” and claps three times. This time her teams joins in before they yell for the Badgers. “LET’S GO BADGERS!”

The crowd does as they say and starts stomping lowdly, smiling at the enthusiasm, I lift my camera one more time and capture the crowd in their moment of pure choas.

Co cheer captain Danielle waves her palms before starting the wisconsin cheer.

“U, RA RA, U RA RA.” She shouts and the stadium is quick to shout back. “WIIIISCONSIN.”

Isla is next, “U, RA RA, U RA RA.” And ofcourse we all follow suit. “WISCONSIN.” Everyone joins in for the 3rd and 4th round and says it quickly.

“Alright Wisconsin!” The announcers voice comes. “Let’s give it up to the team that brings us to victory everytime, the WIIIISCONSINN BAAADGERRRRS.” He exclaims, and I am quick to capture the crowd before swiftly turning around and getting the star player smasking through the paper banner.

Harry Styles. Star player, golden boy, most beloved, and smart as a wip. He closes his fists together pumping them outward and roars for the crowd as he runs to the center of the field. *click* What a man.

He puts his arms in the air and screams. “Let’s fucking go!” *click* With his arms still up he makes eye contact with me before forming the goal post with his arms, eyes squeezing closed with his tongue sticking out. *click* What that tongue do. wtf is wrong with me.

With a wink to my lense, and a finally *click* I am quick to pan to over to where the once put together banner was and got flicker shots of the rest of the team coming out. The chilly-ness in the air tonight making it look cool as you can see their breath as they shout and run out towards their captain on the field.

“Tonight, we play Idiana University, The Purdue Boilmakers!” The annoucer says, and that moment the opposing team, Purdue is quick to make their exit under the tunnel and the loud crowd on the opposite side of the field is shouting for them as well.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

WISCONSIN: 22 VS PURDUE: 13

Looking up at the scores never gets old, even almost two years in I get excited to see our team kick the opposing teams ass and it is a rush everytime. Hearing the cheers of the squad and the crowds, I am quick to continue flicker shots of my camera.

With time counting down, We are all in suspense as the Center, Ryder, snaps the ball to Harry, who immediately drops back to pass. The offensive line holds their blocks well, creating a solid pocket.

Harry has three choices for this pass, the wide reciever, the slot reciever, or the outside reciever. After seeing his options, he notices the linebackers biting on the drag, and the cornerback on the outside reciever giving him a bit of cushion. Harry reads the defense with precision, he delivers a high pass over the line backers and just ahead of the safeties.

Our teams tight end makes and athletic leap, catching the ball at its highest point, securing it with both hands. He lands in the endzone, securing the touchdown. The crowd erupts as the Badgers take the lead.

Harry shakes his tight ends shoulders with pride before getting bumped by Purdue’s captain, the surprise attack coming out of nowhere has harry knocking into his team mate. The visible anger is enough for the other Badgers to step in to help hold harry back.

“What the hell dude?” Harry’s deep voice snaps at the captain.

“Oh, my apologies, I didnt know my opposing captain was such a pussy.” The footballer snickered. I rolled my eyes. What a comeback dude.

“Harry!” The Badgers coach shouted across the field. “He ain’t worth it son.” He shouted once more. Harry’s team grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him toward their bench.

“I might not be worth it, but you know who is?” He patronizes. “Your cheer team. They look like a fun time.” He digs deep.

Our football team shake their heads in unison, still walking away without confronting the situation any longer. The announcer noticed the tention on the field before saying you cut it with a knife. I picked my camera up and pressed the capture button. Proud of our boys for taking the high road, documenting the moment, the click was like a pin dropping.

“Or maybe your little photographer. She looks like fun.” He chuckled. Um, ew?

“In your dreams, dude.” I scoffed, but my luck has never been the best, because what I thought was under my breath actually wasn’t.

“What the fuck did you just say?” He snapped. Choosing to ignore him, I am staring down at my camera, looking at him through the screen that is angled up at me. I pretend to click the non touch screen, trying not to add to the attention I have created for myself. He has angled his body my way before making his way towards me. Having the inkling to press record, I do, and my god this next part is cinema. “That’s what I thought, stupid bit-” He is cut off by a flying fist hitting him square in the jaw. Moving my camera quickly you can see Harry’s arm before he is on top of the rival captain and punching him once more in the jaw before getting up. Please god tell me I got that all on camera. Looking down and playing back the video, I see I did infact get it and cannot wait to show Harry later.

“Don’t EVER talk about a lady like that.” Harry barked. Officially walking away, and straight to the coach to get repremanded. My legs are metaphorically spread.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

WISCONSIN: 37 VS PURDUE: 17

The crowd roared to life as the final touchdown was played. The Wisconsin Badgers beat the Purdue Boilmakers for the second time this season and with how halftime went, no one on our side is complaining. Infact, they are cheering and chanting the only four words that matter whenever we win a game.

“EAT SHIT. FUCK YOU.” Over and over until the last fan of the rival team is off benches and off our field. I have just captured the last photo of the night and while I am putting my camera down to hang around my neck I am looking every which way for my trusty hero.

I won’t pretend that Harry and I are friends, because that is not the case. He is nice and stands apart from the typical college guys who are either rude or just looking for a hookup. Harry parties hard, but he’s also incredibly smart and priorities his grades and football over being the campus’ biggest jerk. It’s this balance that make him Intriguing.

Our paths crossed often enough- shared classes, mutual friends, the occasional study group- but we’ve never had a deep conversation. Still, there’s a mutual respect there. He is the kind of guy who will hold the door open for you, offer a polite nod in the hallway, and never push boundaries.

So when Isla dragged me to yet another party at the frat house where Harry lives, I didn’t mind as much. The house was loud and choatic, filled with music and mingling voices. Isla was immediately swallowed by the crowd and I found a nice quiet corner to people watch and sip on my jack and coke.

As the night went on, I noticed Harry moving around the crowd, talking to everyone, yet never staying in one place for too long. He had this effortless way of making people feel at ease, and it was clear why he was well-liked. When our eyes met, he gave me a small knowing smile and raised his cup in acknowledgement.

I smiled back, feeling a strange mix of comfort and curiosity. It was clear that Harry had layers, and while I wasn’t looking to peel them back, it was nice to know that not everyone at this college fit into the same mold. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than meets the eye. And maybe, just maybe, i’d find out some day.

But until then, Let’s find him so we can watch this video in slow motion and watch the football captain of Purdue get his shit rocked.

“Hey, Y/N!” I hear my name get called. Turning around I see Isla walking over with the one I was looking for. He has an iceback on his fist and he is looking straight at me. I smile at them both and wave.

“Isla!” I screamed, “I got that whole thing on video and I need you both to watch it ASAP.” I giggled. Isla squeeled and agreed while Harry groaned.

“I can’t believe I let my anger get the best of me.” He sighed loudly.

“But it made for great cinema Harry.” I winked. Pulling my camera up I went to the video and played it. “I’ll send you a copy. BAM. Bitch went down.” I rewind and played it one more time in slow motion.

“You did not just quote Tatum from Scream because I punched someone?” Harry laughed loudly.

“OFCOURSE I qouted the second queen of scream. Thank you for doing that by the way, it means alot.” I smiled. He shook his head and waved me off. Lowering my camera, I looked down to the screen. I felt Isla put her arm around my shoulder.

“Well, I am off. I really do want a copy of that. Our own personal superhero, I want a keepsake.” Isla giggled when Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head.

When Isla walked away Harry kept his gaze on her, not once looking down, still focused on her head. When she turned left at the field gate to walk to the parking lot, Harry looked down at his cleats before inhaling a deep breath

“So, you’re a Scream fan, huh?” I can just hear the smirk in his voice, and when I looked up I was right, tucking some hair behind my ear I nodded. Stop smirking at me, I’m feeling things.

“It is a guilty pleasure for sure.” I blushed. Keeping my eyes locked on his I could see a glint of adoration in his eyes, why? I couldn’t tell you. I felt the shyness creeping up and I quickly dropped my head to look at my camera.

I heard is quiet laughter and then soon after felt his knuckle under my chin. Making eye contact once more, He smiles softly at me. “Maybe we could watch them together.” He whispered.

My eyes widen, “Like a date?” I whispered back. abort abort abort abort.

“Woah woah woah, take me out to dinner first.” He pulled away and smirked, resulting in me slapping him lightly on the arm and giggling causing him to howl out a cackle.

“I would love to have a scream marathon with you, Harry.” I smiled up at him.

After a few minutes of just staring at eachother, we quietly exchanged phone numbers and headed our seperate ways for the night. This is fine. I’m fine.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Taglist: @namoreno