#its not a 1 to 1 au straight up the commonalities begin n end at ''tammy & sol are kind of like madoka/homura''

[arovalentines]

some bobbles (+ two unfinished things)

[deathonyourtongue]

Sanguine Nocturnus | 1

Summary: Even after 2000 years, the world can still surprise you. Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x OFC Word Count: 2K Warnings: It’s a vampire fic. Death. Blood. Gore. Sex. Horror. Not for the kiddies or the squeamish. I mean it. A/N : I know I said I���d wait. But y’all have been clamoring...

Death has a way of manipulating time. Moments meant to go slowly end in a blink, while junctures that ought to speed past, linger like dew on the vine...

Carla Montanari stared at her mother’s corpse, waiting for her to move. Waiting for the only family she’d ever had to open her eyes and say it was all a joke. Her mother had always had a cutting sense of humor; no topic was off-limits, and as she aged, death was a favored punchline. Now, it seemed, her mother had pulled off the ultimate prank, though Carla failed to see the humor in it.

The mortician had done an excellent job all things considered, but Carla could still pick out the differences between the body that lay at the altar of Saint Vincent’s and the one she had grown up with. A jaw that had been given too much lift, makeup that was a shade or two darker than what her mother normally wore, wrinkles that had disappeared when her face had been sewn back together. She’d been told she was lucky to get an open-casket service at all, given how much trauma her mother had suffered, as if it were some sort of consolation prize.

Looking behind her, Carla did a headcount of those in attendance, smiling softly when she saw that her mother’s bingo group were all in attendance, each woman donning their Sunday best in order to pay their respects. What her mother lacked in family, she’d more than made up for in friends who were all cut from the same cloth. Good, salt-of-the-earth people. Carla had always envied how easily her mother made friends, how she could chat up anyone, no matter how different their background and find something in common. It was a skill she hadn’t passed down, leaving her daughter to carve out a small handful of friends who were more acquaintances than anything else. 

Crossing herself, Carla took a deep breath, looked down at her mother once more, and finally leaned down to kiss the cold, clammy skin of her forehead, doing her best to ignore the faint waft of formaldehyde that filled the casket. A solitary white rose tucked beneath her mother’s hands was Carla’s final act before turning away. 

Time blinked, and she found herself seated across from her mother’s lawyer, a slab of mahogany separating them, the coffee she’d been offered growing cold as the AC hit it from overhead.

“I suppose we can do away with formality, since it’s just you,” the older man said, his smile tight and distant. Carla nodded, feeling as though the man wanted to be done so he could attend to other, more important, matters. 

“Your mother left all her possessions and accounts to you, no surprise there. She gifted her friends each an item from her apparently extensive purse collection, so we’ll facilitate that for you. The accounts are all in order, and what isn’t used to pay off her final bills, will be transferred to your account by the end of the month. Lastly, there’s the matter of the inheritance. This may be news to you, but your grandmother set up an inheritance in your name when you were born. Initially, it was meant to pay for college, but when you got your full ride, your mother decided to keep it going until her passing. Her hope was to give you a nice nest egg for retirement, or your first house...something to that effect.” 

Carla looked down at the document, counting and recounting the total in disbelief. Her mother had always been terrible at keeping secrets, having given away things to her friends that had mortified Carla when she was younger. 

Guess you were better at it than I thought.

Inhaling deeply, Carla sat back in her chair, hoping the meeting was over. The quicker she could get out into the fresh air, the better off she’d be. 

“There’s one more thing,” her mother’s lawyer said, keeping Carla rooted to her seat even as the muscles in her legs twitched in readiness to stand up. “Your mother wanted to ensure you were aware of the fact that you have legal claim to Italian citizenship, if you should ever choose to take it. They call it Jure Sanguinis; Right of Blood. The process can be expedited, given that you’re only second generation American. Sign here and we can get it in motion for you.” 

Carla signed blindly, eyes unblinking as she tried to process the information. Her mother had always been a planner, but had never once mentioned so much as a will to Carla. Now, seeing everything packaged up so neatly, her mind spun wildly.

“Think you know a person…” She muttered mostly to herself, the lawyer giving her another one of his performative smiles, his eyes going to his watch for what must have been the tenth time in as many minutes. 

Leaving the office with a folder and the untouched coffee, Carla couldn’t help but feel time begin to crawl, reinforcing the feelings of numbness and solitude that would haunt her for weeks to come.

Working steps from Wall Street had its perks. Tips were usually far more generous than in other parts of town, fights were rare, and drunk girls crying over their shitty boyfriends were nonexistent. None of that made it any easier, however. Frat boys turned into day traders, socialites grew even more entitled as their brunches turned into botox appointments, and there was never a shortage of patronizing stares for those that had to actually work for a living. For Carla, navigating the catcalls, one-liners, and straight-up sexual misconduct was easy enough; it was the entitlement that never failed to get under her skin. 

“Um, hello? Waitress? This is wrong. I asked for a Negroni.” Looking up, Carla swept her long black hair over her shoulder as she processed the words that were spoken. Having decided to keep living life as though things hadn’t irrevocably changed, Carla was doing her best to ignore the stress that had been slowly creeping higher and higher each day. Busy nights at the bar were proving the worst, with Carla coming through the door at the end of her shift ready to rant about the night to her mother, only to find the place pin-drop silent and utterly empty. 

Looking down at the drink, Carla gazed back up at the woman with the blond, news anchor hair and cocked her head to the side in confusion. 

“That is a Negroni.” 

“Uh,” the woman snorted in disbelief, “no it’s not. Remake it, and do it right this time.” 

“This is a Negroni. One part gin, sweet vermouth, and Campari each, with a peel of lemon.” The woman laughed condescendingly and Carla could feel her patience start to disappear. 

“No, a Negroni, if you knew anything about bartending--which you clearly don’t--is made with Rye and dry vermouth.”

“Lady, I make at least ten of these a night. I work six nights a week. You’re the first, and only, person to ever tell me it’s wrong. You’re thinking of an Old Pal, and I’d be more than happy to make that for you, but this? This is a Negroni, which is what you asked for.”

“Fine, we’ll see about that.” The woman huffed, her manicured hand slicing through the air in a dismissive motion. 

“That’ll be $10.99.”

“Absolutely NOT! I’m not paying for your mistake. Make it again, make it right, and make it now!” The woman crowed, her hair imobile as she shook her head, looking for all the world like Carla had slapped her.

“It’s a different drink. You paid for a Negroni, you got a Negroni. You want an Old Pal, you pay for an Old Pal.” Carla replied, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for the woman to make up her mind. 

The alcohol burned Carla’s eyes and she stumbled back in shock, moving towards the large sink she knew was behind her on pure instinct. Washing her face to get as much of the cocktail off as she could, she knew she’d reached her breaking point. 

Any other time and she’d have brushed it off, had security kick the woman out and gone about her night. Now? She’d had enough. Moving slowly to the back, Carla took off her apron, hung it up next to her coworkers’ and slipped out the back door. 

Nearly sprinting the whole way home, it was only as she stepped through the door of her apartment that the tears came unbidden. Sliding down the wall, Carla cried for the first time since her mother’s passing. 

The next morning, after calling in her notice, Carla allowed herself a day to simply be. To scream, to cry, to let out all the emotions that had befallen her since answering the phone that fateful night and hearing that her mother had died in such a vicious and preventable way. She let rage fill every vein as she thought about how the person who hit her hadn’t even bothered to stay at the scene. She lamented every missed moment, every fight, every what-if. Finally, she curled up in her mother’s robe, and cried herself to sleep.

Knowing she couldn’t handle another day at a bar like the one on Wall Street, catering to bratty adults who’d never been told no a day in their lives, Carla began leaning more and more towards escaping it all. Her now-empty apartment, her routine assortment of familiar faces (none of whom had even bothered to call and offer condolences), and more than anything, the city itself; all of it seemed worthless and foreign without her mother’s smiling face. As she sat and scrolled through picture after picture on her phone, the promise of a new life in Italy seemed more feasible, and more and more necessary.

On day three, after a day spent mostly in bed, dreaming about the possibilities of what life could bring now that she was committed to leaving, Carla put in a call to the lawyer, vaguely remembering the document she’d signed. There was nothing but relief when she was told they were simply waiting for a few more documents to finalize it all. 

With the foundation for her new life in place, Carla began to flesh out the bones, focusing her research on where to live, and who was hiring. Though the inheritance was enough to live comfortably for several years, Carla didn’t want to squander it. Moreover, she still wanted to work and feel useful in some way; early retirement could wait.

While she was spoilt for choice when it came to renting, a job was harder to come by. Carla started her search with the lofty goal of finding something where she could put her history degree to good use; a research assistant, a curator, hell, a tour guide. When it became clear that her lack of experience was a hurdle she wouldn’t be able to cross so easily, Carla reluctantly turned to what she knew. 

Weeks went by like thick molasses as she looked at bar after bar, finding that they either weren’t hiring, or looked like the kind of place people went into and never came out of. Her options were narrow to start with, since Carla had her heart set on Rome, the need to entrench herself in one of the world’s oldest cities, one she couldn’t possibly ignore. With each day that passed, she felt her dream beginning to slip away. Carla was nothing if not tenacious, one of the few traits she’d shared with her mother, and despite feeling discouraged at her prospects, she kept looking.

Finally, as the clock nearly ran out on her deadline to provide proof of employment, Carla found the perfect spot. Though the bar catered to a higher-end clientele, gone were the stockbrokers and lawyers, and in their place, a younger, cooler set. Attracted to the dark, almost feral, atmosphere the bar promised in its advertising, Carla applied, crossing her fingers in the hopes that they’d call. 

She was still browsing the site when her phone rang and the owner greeted her in a thick, Italian accent. Breezing through the interview questions, Carla’s eyes roved over the pictures of all the beautiful people that frequented the night spot, pulled in by how effortlessly cool each of them looked. With the promise to call her by the end of the week to confirm the position, the owner ended the call, and it was all Carla could do not to jump for joy. 

Flopping back on the bed, she couldn’t help but let herself feel true happiness, happiness which she’d unconsciously been denying herself while she mourned her mother’s death. Though she’d been dealt a life-changing blow, Carla felt as though, slowly but surely, time was going back to its usual pace, and her life was taking a turn for the better. 

With a smile from ear to ear, she sat back up and emailed the lawyer, confirming she’d gotten a job, an apartment, and a plane ticket to Rome. As the message zipped away and the window closed, Carla found her eyes drawn back to the website, and her new place of employment. 

Romulus

[the-queen-of-fools]

Coffee & Cowboys

Chapter 1

— — —

Word Count: 1600 Pairing: Jack ‘Agent Whiskey’ Daniels x English f!Reader (no y/n, no descriptions beyond accent) Rating: Mature (For language and themes. Might become explicit at some point) Warnings: Swearing; slow burn; angst; mentions of death; mentions of afterlife; mentions of alcohol; post-movie; AU

A/N: Slow burn. Meta / self aware-ish. I have no plan. First time writing Whiskey. No idea how often this series will be posted. (I’m English, and I liked the contrast with our ‘Southern charm’-filled cowboy, so the reader is English too…)

— — —

Saturday started like any other. No alarm, so you wake feeling refreshed and ready for the nothing you have planned. A nice long lie in, read for a bit in bed, hot shower, and very comfy clothes. You walk downstairs and into the kitchen as usual, eager to drink the glorious caffeinated nectar of life, when you stop abruptly. There’s a man stood there. His back to you, showing off some rather tight jeans, broad shoulders in a dark denim jacket and what looks like a stetson. Who the fuck wears a stetson? “What the fuck? Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” You yell, as you pick up the first thing you can find in reach - a chopping board. A chopping board? What? He turns around, face slack. You grabs a jar and throw it at him. It flies straight through him and hits the wall behind, glass shattering and coffee spreading everywhere. You’re both just staring now, right where the jar should have stopped on his body. Your eyes meet his, matching expressions of pure shock on your faces. 

Uh... no. You shake your head and turn, running back upstairs and shutting your bedroom door behind you. You slide the lock in place, and dive back in to bed. Still holding the damn chopping board, you throw the duvet over your head and squeeze your eyes shut. You’re asleep. You have to be. You’re asleep, and dreaming of your nice relaxing morning routine. When you open your eyes again you can start the day right, have another lie in, a nice shower, and then a coffee without any men in your kitchen. Deep breath in, out, eyes open.  Sitting up, throwing the duvet off, you look up and fuck! There he is, stetson and all.  “Where am I?” A southern drawl crosses the room to you. It’s deep, and velvety, and if you’d heard it at a bar you’re sure you’d feel very differently about it. But in your bedroom?  “Why are you here?” “Where IS here?”  “How did you get in, anyway? The door was locked?” That stops him.  His face softens slightly as he looks at you and says, “I... don’t know.” He furrows his brows, two deep set lines forming between them. He’s staring at the door, and when you lean forward you can just about see that the lock is still in place. “Did you walk through the door?” You whisper. He’s silent, still staring. “Are you a ghost?” That gets a reaction. He whips his head around, and glares at you now.  “No.” “Are you sure?” His brow furrows again, face changing from its glare to a more fearful look as he whispers back to you. “…No.”

…

You’re both in your living room now. It’s taken over an hour to get you both to the stage you can share a room without shouting or throwing things. That would have been hard to explain to neighbours or your housemate. Admittedly, he calmed down quicker than you did. You’re pretty sure an existential crisis will do that to you. Plus, the novelty of throwing things through him took longer to wear off than you thought. Grasping tightly on your coffee (finally), the mystery ghost man paces in front of you. “You’re making me dizzy, would you stop?” You ask. He stops moving, sighs deeply and sits down on the chair across the room. “Huh.”  “What?” He replies sharply. “Just curious why a jar goes through, or a pillow, or a chopping board, and you seem to be able to walk through doors without thinking about it, but you can still sit on a chair without falling through.” You explain to him, taking another sip of coffee. “Stupid metaphysical contradictions,” you grumble to yourself, and it actually brings out a slight chuckle from the man, who quickly tries his best to hide it. He shrugs. “Well, darlin’, I know nothin’ more than you.” “Don’t call me darling, cowboy.” “Cowboy?” His brows shoot up, a smirk lifting one side of his moustache slightly. “Because of the hat?” “And the accent. Thought you might prefer it to Ghost Boy... or Creepy McGee.” Another little chuckle falls from his lips as he leans forward, and looks at you. “You did follow me straight to my bedroom before. Creepy McGee would be a kind name for that.” “Cowboy is fine, sugar. Thanks, I guess.” “Ew. That’s worse than darling.” You finish the rest of your coffee in one mouthful, and look over to the man as he stands. “I’m still not convinced you’re real, just so you know.”  “What are the options then, darlin’? Ghost or what, exactly?” Or what, indeed. “And more importantly, how do I get back home?”  “The way I see it, we have three options.” “Based on what?” His hands are on his hips, and you forget for a second that he might not be there, he might not even exist. The breadth of his shoulders exaggerating the narrowness of his hands on his hips. Shit. Why couldn’t you have just met him in a bar instead? Why did he have to appear in your kitchen? He clears his throat, jolting you back to reality and you flush at the idea he’s just been watching you stare at him. The stupid smirk is back. “See something you like, darlin’?” He says, with a stupider wink. 

Ignoring him and his smug face, you begin. “Option One: I’m having some sort of mental health crisis and you’re a figment of my imagination. A symptom, if you will. Option two: You’re dead. You’re a ghost and, for whatever reason, you’re haunting me. Or, option number three,” you pause, “You’re not dead.” “Preferable, from my point of view.” He interjects, frowning. “Option three is more like, you’re not dead, but you’re close. Like you’re in a coma, but you’re still sort of haunting me. An apparition, astral projection, you know?” He’s nodding along, but silent, and still frowning. “Let’s rule out option one, I have no history of visual or auditory hallucinations, nor a family history of such things. So. Onto option two; there is a fairly wide and agreed consensus about ghosts, so we have ideas on next steps. Option three may be a little trickier though...” You trail off, placing your empty mug on the table in front of you. You stand, and walk over to a shelf to vaguely look at the DVDs. “Why is that one trickier?” He asks, sitting down onto the chair again. “Resources, mostly.” You tell him, over your shoulder. “There’s a lot of hauntings in film and TV, so a decent amount of lore to look into and test. But apparitions not so much.” You turn to him, and shrug. “Wait.” He says, processing what you’ve told him. “Film and TV? Those are your resources?” “Oh. I’m sorry. You got a library book recommendation? Name and number of an expert, perhaps?” You are just met with a huff and Ghost Cowboy just folds his arms and leans back. “Uncharted territory here, Mr Grumpy.” The look that replaces the sulk is priceless. “Sorry, sugar. But I think I’ll get my own answers.” He stands up and walks to the front door. His hands passes straight through the handle, so he sighs, and just walks forward. He can’t get through it though, hitting it like he would usually instead. Another sigh as he turns to you. “What now?”

…

He’s pacing again as you voice each thought crossing your mind. “So. Physical limitation to a place: ‘Beetlejuice’, ‘The Others’... Pretty common trope.” You pause. “Ooh, can we try something?” He stops his pacing and looks at you with a huff.  “Why not?” He says, throwing his hand out. “It’s not like it can get fuckin’ worse.” You stand and walk to the door. You open it, and walk back, past Mr Grumpy-Ghost-Cowboy, to the other end of the room. “Try to go through.” He does, hitting the invisible barrier. “Okay,” you move next to the open door, “try now.” He isn’t happy, but he tries again anyway. Nothing, still stuck. “Fine.” You move to the other side of the doorway, into your front garden. “One more time?” You raise your eyebrows and try to look sweet and innocent. “Please, Cowboy?” His hands are back on his hips. “Last time, English.” You nod, ignoring the newest nickname. It is decidedly better than darling and sugar, anyway. He tries again, and success. The cowboy walks through the door without any resistance. He looks shocked, and tries to walk further, perhaps out of your life forever. He’s stopped, again, at the wall. “Huh. Interesting.” You walk back inside your house, the ghostly intruder following you after a moment of pushing the solid air. “Very interesting. You weren’t dragged back by my reentering the house.” You close the door again, and move back to sit on the sofa. “So. We’re looking at… limited physical proximity to a specific person instead: ‘Heart and Souls’, ‘Just Like Heaven’, maybe? Sort of. Not quite.” You start to mumble to yourself, before lifting your head and looking directly at your guest. “I’m going to plan a movie marathon.” The ghost cowboy just shakes his head, frowning more than you thought possible. Any more, you think, and his eyebrows will start to fold in on themselves. “Look,” you tell him, “you’re not in pain, and you’re not fading away. I’m dealing in my own way, but I’m open to suggestions.” “Alcohol. Whiskey. Lots of it.”  “A cowboy who likes whiskey. Groundbreaking.”

[galaxy-parker]

incomplete [1]

 Pairing: Peter Parker x Female!Reader ( a hate-to-love soulmate au)

Summary: Where you hate Peter Parker and you hate soulmates but maybe those two themes have more in common than you thought

Warnings: some bad words but that almost always happens

Word count: 4.5k A/N: here! it! is! my first multi chap, i am very excited about it and pretty hecking happy w the result :) i’m gonna try and keep to posting incomplete on thursdays! <3 

series masterlist // prologue  // chapter 1 // chapter 2

The sound of chatter presses against your mind, trying to force its way inside, but you’re preoccupied.

The soulmark on the back of your neck has been itching since the night before, a soft and irritating pulse that you can barely ignore, and your skin is nearly raw to the touch.

Absentmindedly, you let your fingers dance across it, across the tiny black words that foresee your future. The ones holding the key to finding your perfect match.

You can’t help but wonder if there’s a part of this that isn’t entirely true. How can someone have a perfect match? How can your perfect match be someone you’ve never met?

“-that your tattoo isn’t the first thing your soulmate says to you,” Liz is shaking her head and your eyes snap to hers, trying to focus your mind on the subject at hand but she isn’t looking at you. You push around your milk carton, eyes finding a white spot on your perfectly blue lunch tray. “She said it’s the first thing your soulmate says when you’re ready to find them.”

Her voice holds an excitement on the subject you couldn’t fake if you tried, but your eyebrows pinch at the words. The topic of soulmates isn’t exactly rare in your group of friends, but this theory is one that you’ve never heard and you can’t help it when you intervene.

“That can’t be right.”

Suddenly every pair of eyes at your table lands on you, and you find yourself wishing you’d said nothing at all.

Your gaze finds Nora’s, who’s sitting in front of you with a curious smile. She tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her ear before crossing her arms over the table. “What do you mean?”

There’s a tiny red line marking the inside skin of her elbow, the only proof that she had a tattoo to begin with. It’s rare for a teenager to find their soulmate, but she was over the moon once she got over the initial pain and shock of finding them so soon.

You were happy for her, of course, but something about soulmates made your skin crawl. The sheer powerlessness of it all.

“It just seems weird,” you shake your head. “How can you be ready? How do you know?”

“You ask way too many questions,” Liam buds in from beside Nora. There’s a crooked smile resting against his lips, suggesting the words a mere joke but you can feel the irritation beginning to course through your veins.

“Maybe you don’t ask enough,” you say. He shrugs and takes a long swig of his coke.

“Whatever you say,” he laughs around the can of sticky sugar.

“It’s an automatic thing,” Nora explains, something happy dancing in her green eyes. “It’s all predetermined.”

“Predetermined by who?” you ask, swiping your plastic fork from your plate and nibbling on the ends of it. The plastic bends easily beneath your teeth. “Isn’t it weird that you’re just supposed meet some random person who says the words you’ve been assigned and bam, you’re practically married?”

“Okay, you know that’s not how it works,” Nora says, shaking her head.

“Maybe it’s an exaggeration,” you admit, throwing down your plastic tupperware again. “But now, apparently, I might already know them? Am I the only one who thinks that’s weird?”

“Uh,” Liam shakes his head, a crooked smile on his face, and shoves a burnt french fry in his mouth. His expression twists into one of disgust a second later, but he swallows it down nonetheless. “Yeah, you are.”

Liz leans closer to you and nudges your arm softly. “Why is this so important to you?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” you say honestly. Nora furrows her brows and though it seems as if Liam is preoccupied with the manufactured food on his tray, you know his ears are trained on your words. “Don’t you want to be able to choose who you fall in love with?”

You watch their faces with a sudden desperation you didn’t know you possessed. Desperation to be heard, desperation to be understood. The crease between Nora’s brows deepens as she takes in your inquiry, Liam shakes his head and Liz just stares at you, as if you started spewing sentences in Dothraki.

“No,” she finally says. Her head tilts to the side, causing her midnight curls to fall over her shoulders in an ocean of black. “Not really.”

You suck on your teeth and push your greens around your tray with a plastic fork. “Just forget I said anything.”

“You’ll see it’s better this way,” Nora says, her voice soft as if she’s trying not to spook you. “When you meet your soulmate.”

You know she’s only trying to reassure you of your doubts, but her words stir something strange in your chest. You feel like you’re being brainwashed.

“Right,” you breathe out a laugh.

“I think it’s exciting,” Liz exclaims, clasping her hands together atop the table. “What if your soulmate is here right now?’

Her eyes shimmer with something hopeful, you can’t help but store away your own reservations, at least for the time being.

“Knowing you, you have at least thirty options as to who it could be,” Liam says with a smirk, once again an active participant of the conversation.

“Maybe Alex Smith?” she wonders, resting her chin on her palm. You snort, turning away when she shoots you a questioning glance. “What?”

“No, nothing,” you shake your head, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Alex Smith wears the same shirt, like, four out of five school days,” Liam reaches over Nora’s arms to snatch up her untouched bowl of fruit. She barely puts up a fight, knowing full well she’ll only pick at it until the bell rings, but doesn’t hesitate to clip him over his ear.

“You know you could ask,” she jokes, while Liz starts to sputter with protests.

“That is so not true,” she says, eyes already searching the crowded cafeteria to fact check her friend’s accusation. Her face falls when she does but she quickly recovers, flashing Liam a sarcastic smile and flicking a lock of hair behind her shoulder. “Okay well what do you think?”

“For you or for me?” he cards a hand through his dark hair, quirking an eyebrow when she shrugs. “I don’t think you’ve met yours yet,” he supplies.

Liz’s face morphs into an adorable pout before switching to a smirk just as easily. “What if one of your exes is your soulmate?”

He scoffs, eyes rolling upward and you share a knowing glance with Nora. 

Although most seem to wait for their soulmate to start dating, it’s not uncommon for romantic relationships to develop outside of the chosen, and Liam is no stranger to that way of living. 

It seems he has a new significant other every week, and you can’t help but feel sorry for the poor hearts he often breaks. Then again, he can’t be bothered to change and the boys and girls who are victim to his fleeting love seem to come out okay on the other side.

He shakes his head. “That’s never gonna happen,” he says, and then “I hope mine is Peter Parker.”

Your spine snaps into a rigid straight line and you reel back at the words like you’ve been slapped. Nora and Liz begin to laugh.

“Peter Parker?” you question. “Why on earth-?”

“He’s cute,” Liam laughs. “And he’s got a six pack you know.”

“Because that totally makes up for being an ass.”

“He’s got one of those too,” He shrugs with a smile when you screw up your face, then shakes his head. “I’m messing with you.”

“Thank go-”

“I think he’s yours.”

Nora laughs vehemently, throwing her head back and slapping the table with an open palm. Liz has the decency to try and hide her laughter between her fingers, but her giggles still slip through her skin and seep into your own.

“What the fuck,” you deadpan, unable to supress the curse from your lips and suddenly Liam is joining in on the snickers. You think you might explode.

“Wouldn’t that be something,” Nora licks her lips, trying to regain her composure.

“Yeah, I think I’d jump off of a cliff.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Liz pokes your cheek, just two short jabs, but your skin stings at her touch.

“It’s what I’m known for,” you say, rising from the rickety bench you’ve been uncomfortably perched on for twenty minutes. Liam and Nora watch you stand languidly, but Liz pushes herself up from the seat a moment later.

“Bathroom?” she asks and you nod, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

It’s a stringy grey thing given to you by your dad when you started middle school and despite the pleas of your friends to invest in a new one, and the fact that one Peter Parker teases you about it any chance he gets, you find comfort in the packet. Especially when your dad is away on work trips, which you find that he is more often than not.

“Yeah,” you step away from the stained lunch table, offering Nora and Liam a two fingered salute before Liz grabs your hand and pulls you from the cafeteria, but not before dragging you past Peter’s lunch table.

You stumble behind your friend, senselessly letting your eyes skitter over his figure- slouched over, smiling brightly at something his friends are saying- but his gaze meets your when you don’t turn away quick enough, and the fragile piece of Peter Parker that you’ve never known shatters before your eyes.

He glares at you, blankly somehow and the indifference harborded in your gut burns into a raging fury.

When you finally fall through the cafeteria doors, leading to a near empty hallway, you whirl around to face a simpering Liz.

“We could have used the other doors,” you say, arching a brow. “You know, the ones that were closer to our table and not in the direction of Parker’s.”

She bats her eyelashes to feign innocence, but her shit-eating grin and the glimmer in her eyes betray her too quickly. “Whatever do you mean?”

You groan, setting course for the bathroom again. “Why?”

“I like watching the sexual tension between the two of you,” she shrugs and you stick out your tongue in disgust. “Oh my god, imagine if the two of you were, like, actually soulmates.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to despise your soulmate, Lizzy,” you roll your eyes, watching a few of your peers mull around the halls. A few of them smile as you pass, and you return the gesture before focusing on the girl next to you again. She tucks a dark lock of hair behind her ear, the straightened piece losing its heat and starting to frizz again on the end.

“Don’t worry,” she says, cocking her head. “The odds are like, one-in-a-zillion.”

“That’s not a real number, how’d you get into this school again?”

She twists her face, her nose wrinkling at the words as she pushes open the grey bathroom door. It squeaks on its hinges, the sound echoing across tiled walls.

Liz walks in a straight line towards the dirty mirrors, running her delicate fingers through her hair while you walk into one of the empty, and horribly smelly, stalls.

When you step out again, Liz is still admiring her reflection, this time reapplying her lip balm and you can’t help the smile that eases onto your face. Even in the dingy bathroom mirrors she’s gorgeous, and she holds herself with a confidence you can only hope to one day possess.

She grins when she catches sight of you in the mirror, a pearly white smile lined with full lips.

You step forward, running your hands underneath the faucet and shaking your skin dry before nodding your head to the door again. Liz taps the back of your bag.

“Ready?” she asks.

You nod, sliding forwards on the damp tiled floor- no doubt from students opting to shake the drops of water from their hands rather than dry them on the less than sanitary towels, like you- and shove open the door again.

The hall is still halfway empty, and a quick glance at the clock on a far wall tells you that there are twenty minutes left until your lunch break ends.

You make a beeline for the cafeteria, and Liz trails behind you for a moment before her long legs are catching up to yours in easy strides.

Neither of you speaks for a moment, and you let your hand travel to your mark as you walk. It doesn’t take Liz long to catch on to the movement and she swipes up your hand as you let it fall, one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows arched.

“Okay, you’ve been messing with your tattoo all day. What’s up?”

She tries to turn you away from her, no doubt to inspect it, but you step out of her reach and pull away from her touch. “Nothing.”

“Oh please,” she rolls her eyes and takes a step forward just as easily as you took one back. Her dark eyes glimmer with curiosity, and you decide that she’ll never stop pressing if you don’t just tell her now. “Don’t lie.”

You shake your head, clenching your fist to keep yourself from reaching upwards again. “It just itches a little, it’s fine,” she’s staring at you like she doesn’t believe you, and you can’t exactly say that you blame her between your wincing and the redness of the skin around your mark. But she doesn’t need to know the extent of it, telling her the problem and detailing it are two very different things. “Probably just a mosquito bite.”

“Doesn’t look like one,” she sing-songs, but starts her trek through the school halls again.

That was close, you think to yourself.

You’re not sure why you’re lying to her. Maybe it’s your own concern taking the wheel, or the fact that you know she’ll make a bigger deal of it than it should be, but it’s too late to turn back now.

She’s a few steps ahead of you when a new thought pops into your head, this one more urgent.

“Oh wait,” your steps halt suddenly, and Liz shoots farther ahead before she turns her head and stops.

“What?” she asks, wearing a quizzical expression.

“I need to grab some books out of my locker,” you nod in the opposite direction, back down the way you came. “I’ll meet up with you in a second.”

She dips her head, a nod yes, before pushing through the cafeteria doors and leaving you to yourself. You start your trek towards your locker, nothing on your mind but seemingly useless things- the weather, your friends, your soulmark.

Your hand travels to the bumpy tattoo on your neck once more, as if called there and in the privacy of the empty halls you let your fingers roam the irritated skin. You know what it says, you’ve known since it appeared, but what it means… what elicits it is what confuses you, intrigues you and pisses you off.

You turn the corner, still lost in thought, but when you finally notice Peter Parker leaning against your locker, a smile pressed on his lips, your arm falls in surprise.

He isn’t looking at you; he probably doesn’t even know that yours is the locker he’s decided to block, but it is, leaving you in an uncomfortable situation that will surely end in a verbal brawl.

Ned is standing in front of him, animatedly telling a story that you know you’ll never hear— not that you’d want to— and you steel yourself at the sight of them before marching over to the pair, your shoulders set back in determination.

As if sensing your presence, Peter’s eyes dart from Ned’s face to yours. Just like every time he sees you, the smile that he was wearing vanishes from his lips. You think that in another world, it would hurt that you’re able to bring such displeasure to someone just by being in their line of sight, but with him it twists something like satisfaction in your gut.

Ned picks up on his sudden change of demeanor, but unlike Peter, when his eyes meet yours his face splits into an even bigger grin.

You’ve always liked Ned. He was always kind to you, even when Peter was cruel.

“Y/N!” he calls, and a smile pulls at your lips.

“Hey, Ned.”

Peter crosses his arms as you approach, head tilting upwards. You wouldn’t be surprised if the motion is only so that he can say that he’s literally looking down on you. You try not to laugh.

“You’re just who I was looking for,” Ned says, pulling your attention to him once more. You slow your pace, cocking your head in confusion.

“Oh?” you question, trying to block Peter in your peripheral, trying to block the stupid smirk that’s now replaced his frown.

“Liam said you needed the notes that we got in History?” your eyes flit to the notebook that Ned’s grasping in a hand, and to the letters adorning it. The words he’s written in a playful scrawl are highlighted with a spectrum of colors.

“Right,” you tuck a lock of hair behind your ear and roll your eyes. “Of course he couldn’t be bothered to do it himself. Sorry, Ned.”

Peter lets out a scoff at that, small and easy to miss, but you turn to him anyways.

“If you have something to say,” you press the heels of your hands into your hips. “Then say it.”

He shakes his head, eyeing you up and down. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Your stomach twists with irritation and you try not to fume as Ned takes a step forward, his smile pinched. “It’s no big deal, Y/N,” he says, tearing the papers from his book and handing them to you gently.

You turn away from Peter, letting the anger ease from your face when your eyes focus on Ned once more. “I owe you one.”

“We’re square,” he steps back again, cocking his head. “Last year, Physics?”

Your mind shoots back to the year prior, when both Ned and Peter were out sick and you took notes for the former unbeknownst that they would be passed on to the ladder afterwards. But you’re square.

“Right,” you nod. “Thanks.”

You take a new step forward, almost directly in front of Peter but all he does is stare at you, a single eyebrow arched. You tense your jaw.

“Can I help you?” to anybody who doesn’t know him, his voice would sound sincere and concerned, but you’ve learned to uncover the underlying sarcasm and bite of irritation that accompany the words.

You cross your arms, letting your eyes dart across his face. “You’re leaning against my locker.”

He grins, sarcastic and so obviously an attempt to rile you up that you can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that it really does. “Sorry,” he says, sounding anything but sincere.

“I’m sure,” He doesn’t make any attempt to move, and you can see Ned fidgeting nervously next to you at his friends defiance. “I’d,” you breathe, clenching your teeth so hard you’re afraid they’ll shatter. “Appreciate it if you would get out of the way.”

Still, he doesn’t budge, but a new condescending smile pulls at his lips and he hums. “Would you?”

The expression he wears takes you back to when you were young and in elementary school. He used to stand behind you when you walked in straight lines around the school and he’d always pull at the end of your ponytail. Any time you’d turn to glare at him, to yell at him to stop he’d wear this same expression. Even years later it makes you want to break his jaw.

“I hate you,” your voice is set in a deadpan when the words leave your lips and your face is wiped of any emotion, but you’re quite sure you’ve never spoken a heavier truth.

He laughs at that, a silly and boyish thing but there’s an underlying harshness that tangles into the sound. “I’m flattered.”

Ned steps forward as Peter talks, and grabs his arm tightly. “Come on, man,” he pleads.

Peter glances at Ned and the cocky expression laid out on his face flickers for a moment, then he turns to you again, his face wiped completely. You cross your arms and wait.

It takes him a few seconds to heed Ned’s request, but when he does you don’t hesitate to occupy the spot where he stood and shove open your locker door.

Your fingers grapple for your textbooks, but when you turn around after cramming them into your bag, Peter is still standing behind you, something mischievous in his eyes.

“Don’t you have anyone else to piss off?” you ask, slinging your backpack over your shoulder again and closing your locker door. Peter cocks his head.

“I’m literally just standing here.”

“Your presence is more than enough,” you shift in place and suck on your teeth. A soft pressure begins to set on the back of your neck, but you write it off as nothing. It has to be. “Did you need something?”

He shakes his head, and a dark lock of hair falls away from its peers and curls over his forehead. If you didn’t hate him so much you’d think it might be beautiful.

“Why don’t you get a new bag?” he asks. There’s honest curiosity in his voice, and he looks like a child asking why the sky is blue, but the question stirs something deep inside of you.

Maybe you’re too protective over it, maybe the anger boiling in your gut is irrational and reckless but you can’t help it when the feeling transforms into words spilling over your lips.

“Why don’t you get a new personality?”

He purses his lips and releases the air lodged in his lungs, but his eyes hold his humor. It does nothing but anger you more.

Your skin itches and the hair on the back of your neck rises, and the pressure is on your tattoo, you realize.

“You thought hard on that one didn’t you?” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. His tone has changed from curious to halfway cruel.

Ned takes a step back now, his eyebrows still bumped together. For a moment you forgot he was even there to begin with, and though it does nothing to change the situation, you feel almost disappointed with his choice to stay out of the argument.

“Can you just leave me alone?” you bark, turning your gaze back to Peter. “Just once, mind your own buisness and fuck off?”

With every passing second the pressure on your soulmark grows more and more until you’re afraid it might burst, but you blame it on your anger rather than anything else. You blame it on the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“You’re one to talk!” he yells, brandishing his hands in anger. You balk at his sudden change of tone.

“You don’t know anything about me!”

“Oh, you wanna bet?”

“What?” Your body goes rigid the second the words leave his lips, and suddenly you feel as if you’ve been dipped in liquid fire and thrown into an icy bath all at once. You’re left blubbering in confusion and for a second you think you’re going through early menopause- very early menopause- that it’s merely a coincidence that his question is the same one that’s printed on your skin; but then a searing pain shoots up your spine.

“Wait,” you gasp, right before your legs give out underneath you.

Peter’s arms are outstretched and he darts forwards to keep you from hitting the ground, but you yank your arm away before he can touch it, and your knees hit the tiled ground a moment later.

There’s no doubt in your mind that they’ll be colored with bruises in time, but that’s almost the least of your concerns.

You cup the back of your neck, as if you can shield it from the pain, but it only burns hotter. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes and Peter’s face begins to blur into an unrecognizable blob.

He doesn’t touch you, like he’s afraid you’ll crumble at the first brush of his fingers, but he does inch closer, hands hovering halfway through the air.

And then, as suddenly as it happened to you, he gasps and his face drains of color.

Maybe the same thing is happening to him, but what on earth is it?

He grapples for his ribs, keeling forward and bracing his hand on the tile next to yours. There’s sweat collecting on his brow and he’s close enough that you can make out every detail of his face as you blink away your tears.

“What’s going on?” he asks, panic lacing his gaze. You almost find it in yourself to roll your eyes.

“I don’t know,” you snap, squeezing your eyes shut to try and brave the sting, but it’s fading just as fast as it arrived.

The sound of Ned’s shuffling feet fills your ears, next to his mumbling and that of someone else. When you look up again, peeling your eyes open, you see Michelle Jones with a rare startled look on her face mirroring Ned’s surprise.

“Oh my god,” you hear her mumble, and then Peter’s sitting up and blocking her from view.

His face has regained its color, now a bright red and his brows are bumped together in a mix of confusion and concern. You stand up at the same time, but when you stumble and he doesn’t, he grabs your forearms to steady you.

His skin presses against yours, hard and soft and suddenly you find that you’re feeling better, you feel like nothing ever happened at all, so you pull away from him and throw up a shield.

“Uh,” his voice is low and timid. “You okay?”

Like you care, you want to say.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say instead, trying to ignore the way your stomach drops at the complete lack of him. Of his skin against yours, because you’re not supposed to feel that at all. “Are you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck, but his eyes are foggy and it almost seems like he’s looking through you rather than at you. “I’m good.”

A cough sounds behind him, and when you glance over your shoulder you see his friends,  fidgeting nervously. Ned’s face is twisted into pity and concern, but MJ is smirking devilishly.

“Uh, guys,” Ned stutters weakly, scratching the back of his neck.

“What the hell was that?” Peter asks, his hand drifting to his ribs again, you wonder if that’s where his tattoo hides. And then you find yourself wondering why he would be reaching for it at all.

MJ huffs out a laugh, then smothers it with her palm and shakes her head. “You’re not gonna like it,” she says.

“Just say it,” you press. Your hand begins to drift upwards automatically, searching for the bumpy mark on your neck, but when your fingers brush over the surface you find nothing but smooth skin. Your blood runs cold.

“I think,” Ned swallows, visibly hesitant and MJ nudges his shoulder, prompting him to continue. “I think you guys are soulmates.” he finally says. It sounds forced and meek and he winces after the words clear the air. You think you might faint.

You don’t.

You want to scream and yell and curse at the sky, but when you open your mouth no words aid you. So Peter yells instead.  

“What?”

~

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Incomplete Taglist:

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strikethrough means i couldn’t tag you <3 

[san-station]

A Quiet Place AU / ATEEZ (Post-apocalyptic)

Chapter 1

↝Word count: 1772

Description: In a world full of silence and dangerous creatures seeking for blood, a group of friends have to survive for their own good and find the safe place they’ve heard about months ago.

Pairing: OC x San.

Note: This story is entirely fictional. The written universe is an adaptation of John Krasinski’s movie A Quiet Place, some terms or actions may or may not be included in the film.

WARNING: The followed story contains descriptions of violence, explicit wounds, mention of blood, death, depression. If you are easily disturbed, please, stop reading for you own good. 

A/N: Hiiii, this is my first serie ever. I hope you like the beginning~! Sorry if there are some typos. Don't be shy, comment what you think about it ;3.

・・・・・・・・

Watch Your Steps

We had to rush, except none of us moved, our feet glued to the cement as if it was still fresh. We knew we had to run but again, none of us could assimilate it. The sound that lasted a millisecond wasn’t even the loudest, however they could hear the smallest chirp of a cricket in the deepest forest, the purring of a cat under a lot of sheets or the yawn of a baby before going to bed as silent as the wind blowing slowly… No matter if we were on the top of the skyscraper, they always heard. 

It hit my shocked face when the growls started. I was tired, thirsty, my legs hurt and I hadn’t eaten a proper food in forever; who would’ve thought that a fucking pile of beer bottles hidden behind the door of a small bird house located on one of the rooftop’s corners could ruined three months of surviving the craziest era humanity ever lived. Once the bottles stopped rolling through the wooden floor, my lungs felt fire due to the air I retained, my hands started to shake inside my coat... and it hit me again. We need to fucking run, was the only thing on my mind, but I was not being the reasonable person I was, the common sense was off the place and so were my hopes.

    Since I was a child, I thought heights were the scariest thing in the world. The moment I stepped into the rooftop I was already hyperventilating, but it couldn’t compare to the feeling of being chased by those bloodthirsty creatures, and I knew I wasn’t the only one thinking about that, of course. The two people with me had the same expression on their faces. Seonghwa, the guy on my right, tall, blue eyes, body shaped, black hair and paternal instinct, looked at me with wide eyes; he quickly put a hand over my mouth and shook his head violently, words couldn’t be exchanged at that moment, not when we were that close to be slaughter, but his eyes could tell everything. Don’t scream. 

In front of us was Misuk, a small and chubby girl with a fearsome attitude who happened to be the other only girl that was stuck with us. She had short blonde hair and the most amusing personality ever (at least for me). She was the one that opened the door nonchalant trying to find bird seed... Oh, I can tell she was really mad at herself; Misuk was the one telling us to be more careful every step we made (even though we knew), and she always put sand or wet dirt on the places where there was none to prevent any of us from stepping on false. Oh, Misuk…  

My body began to feel numb and the cold wind wasn’t helping either. Seonghwa’s black hair danced with the breeze along with his clothes, he was wearing a long beige sheep coat that Yunho had made two months ago, skinny black jeans with ripped knees, sneakers too dirty to remember their original color because of the lack of water and a sharp knife on his leather black belt. The handle of it had his initials, “P.S”, engraved in silver with a lovely handwriting. Misuk had her natural outfit when we had to go scavenging for supplies, a pair of worn blue jeans, old black Converses, a brown t-shirt with the logo of NASA and a big black jean jacket with some alien patches. Funny, she loved those things before they arrived, after realizing that she actually liked the little friendly green buddies like E.T instead of the monsters that came to Earth. Well, after a while she found another affinity: collecting some alien fragments from their dead bodies for her own pleasure. 

Misuk was a weird kid, but everyone liked her in their own way. I, for example, used to have some discussions about provisions or night shifts with her ‘cause of her lack of leadership and consciousness; I always preferred order, and everything had to be calculated, at least in this madness. But she was a free spirit, she never listened when Seonghwa or Hongjoong made a statement about her, she never cleaned when it was her turn, she sometimes laughed way too loud on our soundproof room and got all of us shhhing her,… but you gotta stick together in this if you want to survive.

Thirty minutes ago we were on the crusade to find more supplies for the rest of the group, it was the calm day #438 after the attack, creatures with hypersensitive hearing showed up on Earth after a meteor shower impacted in December of 2020. We head through the city once the sunrise illuminated the area. Seonghwa, Misuk and I were the assigned crew for the task of recollecting provisions for, at least, two long months. Well, we assigned ourselves because we’d been in those walls for like forever. San was pissed about it, but we didn’t care… now I think it was not a good idea after all. 

“Jiyeong,” Misuk called me with sign language when she stopped walking in the middle of the deserted road that connected our place with the city ruins we were heading to. Misuk’s hands followed a sequence while moving her lips simultaneously, “we should split to find more rations by ourselves, right?”, she shifted her bag from one shoulder to another and gave me a bright smile.

I hesitated. The last time we splitted up, we never found Jin, he was Misuk's brother and a friend to all of us. Hongjoong still blamed himself for allowing that option for starters. 

“I think it’s better for the three of us to stay together…”, Seonghwa signed with his hands covered by brown leather gloves thanks to the cold air that surrounded most of the city in late February. We both nodded in agreement, not before Misuk rolled her eyes at him and kept walking over the scattered sand that created a path of silence down our bared feet.

The city was an hour left on foot, people obviously forgot about the cars after the sound of the engine roaring was too loud and mortal for all of us. Step by step we got closer and the city buildings risen before us; sometimes (more than we needed) we found other individuals on the streets doing the same we’d been doing for months: surviving. On good days, we found families or old friends walking silently and moving on from their houses to others. On bad days -not my favorite ones to be honest- there were suicidal types of people that transformed the atmosphere completely just to put everyone around in danger. It wasn’t funny running or hiding for your life when you did nothing for them to come for you… I disgusted those kinds of people that believed they could choose who lives and who dies. Moreover, there were days when nothing happened, like almost these three months that we stayed underground with enough supplies in our soundproof room that allowed us to speak when we needed the most, we just went outside to find more provisions or walk and watch the sunset; but nothing last forever, supplies were almost running out and we had to finally get more.

The rooftop we ended up praying for our lives was our last searching point, Misuk wanted the bird seeds so much that she insisted on going all by herself after two long hours, she said we were slowing her down, however you couldn’t be alone out there. Not when they could hear you anytime.

I could listen my thumping heart on my ears; the growling became louder, closer, and the unpleasant feeling in my stomach gave me nauseous. Seonghwa stared now at Misuk; she had a deadpan face and decided to close the bird house slowly with her right hand while her left hand rested on her mouth for preventing her of letting out a gasp. I shook my head. Just leave it like that!, I wanted to scream at her. But when the beer bottles rolled again and collided with a seed bag inside the little house, it felt dry on the floor with the most horrendous echoing sound. I swallow hard, my head hurt and the shrill shout that came from the rooftop door activated all my senses. My brain proceeded to watch everything in front of me as if it was on slow-motion.

One creature broke the door with a clean slam, a second one followed its entrance. Their knife-hands cut the metal with a perfect precision and distant howls filled the place when one of them jumped higher that a human being could ever do. My shaky breath was held by Seonghwa’s hands when I stepped back, my fingers reached his owns and I squeezed them as tight as I could against my mouth. Misuk turned around as fast as she could when the hand of one creature slammed into her stomach in within seconds, the deafening sound of her ribs breaking made the tears instantly fall down from my cheeks to Seonghwa’s gloves, she gasped. The sore flesh was vividly cut and her eyes, wide and green, looked to the sky while her body jerked on the floor with a thump. The enormous hollow in the center of her belly straight away scattered overflowing blood all over the floor, and the rest of her body rested on the cement, still she found a way to turn her head into our direction and gave us a sad smile. Red drops were now on our clothes and faces, some of her large intestine and lungs were being eaten by both creatures making grumbling noises. It looked like they were having a Thanksgiving meal and we were probably the desert.

Then, a creatures pulled up its head and the sides of it was wide open as we saw the sound sensors vibrating, trying to reach for more victims nearby. Seonghwa and I could only watch the scene petrified. A tiny groan left Misuk’s throat with her last breath and I gasped in silence while my soaked eyes blurred part of the view, the ripping sounds of bones and flesh continued and I felt Seonghwa’s chest shake a little on my back, but he kept his head high aware of the beasts in front of us. I don’t know if he closed his eyes, I just know we stood there still watching our friend die and hoping we wouldn’t be next.

 (…)

Masterlist

[oohfluffy]

LMN Ch.1 | OSH

Group: EXO

Member: Oh Sehun

Theme: Angst | Fluff | Writer!AU | Neighbor!AU

Word Count: 2,318

✎ Chapter 1: Endings ✎

Fresh red petals fell from above as the box that carries his once brightest star, now gets buried several feet from below the ground, dimming its light as it gets farther down.

And she's gone.

His tears couldn't bring her back. His prayers wouldn't get answered despite his faithfulness. His heart wouldn't ever be fixed since the only one who can put every pieces of it is now gone.

He should've made every second worth it before she's out of his grasp.

He should've made sure she heard his 'I love you's a billion times before she closed her eyes into a deep sleep.

He should've made everything perfect that day when he asked her to be his girlfriend since he ended up ruining everything.

He was a jerk to her at first, he admits that.

But he truly loved her.

It was just too late before they both realized—

They can't be.

It was too late for regrets.

Only memories will remain.

But he knows he will always be the same.

Loving her will be his greatest achievement in life.

"SERIOUSLY, NOONA?!"

You almost jumped out of your seat, turning your swivel chair with a hand on your chest.

"I just fucking read the ending of your recent story! Did you seriously need to let her die?!"

"Watch your words, Yeol." You rolled your eyes as Chanyeol's legs gave up, looking at you with sorrowful eyes. You pushed your eyeglasses up as you stared at him. "Get out if you're just gonna rant about the ending of MY story." You turned your back on your younger brother and continued planning your next story.

You're an amateur writer, 25 years old, already wrote 3 best-selling books but unfortunately they're all—

"All of your books has sad endings! Don't you have a heart, noona?!"

You scratched the back of your neck as you can't concentrate with your work.

"Just go and study. You have classes tomorrow."

"Can you promise me one thing?"

Your eyebrows shot up as Chanyeol's pleading voice rang through your ears.

"What?"

"Please make a happy ending for your next story, noona. Please."

Chanyeol reads every book you publish, may it be online or the hardcopy one. You can say that he's your number one fan. Obviously, he's a book lover. He only started becoming one when you became a writer. Such a good dongsaeng he is, right?

You sighed.

This was the 4th time he's asking you for a happy ending.

"I told you, I can't—"

"Why though? Is it because you broke up with your boyfriend?"

"Yeol, you know that's not the reason behind our break-up."

You turned to him again, speaking with your eyes as you saw him pout in defeat. He stood up and walked towards you. You followed his movements and closed your eyes as he landed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Okay, I won't ask anymore. Sorry for startling you earlier, noona. I was just carried away. You know how your stories affect me." You chuckled as Chanyeol hugged you like a kid to his mom. You patted his head with a smile. "I'll always be your number one fan, noona."

"Mmm. Please do." You hummed as you squeezed him tighter.

"Your heartbeat really calms me, noona."

"Perhaps because it might stop any minute—"

"Yah! That was—"

"Shush." You gently pulled him away, flicking his forehead as he stood up. "You have exams tomorrow, right? You should study not—"

"Ne, ne. I will, noona! If I get on the top 5 for this semester, you'll make a happy ending for your next story, okay?"

With your younger brother's big eyes, big ears, reddish cheeks and cute grin, you nodded with a sigh.

He's 19 and in the 2nd year of studying Architecture in EXO university but he's still a kid to you.

"Fine, fine. I will try."

"Don't just try!"

You literally pushed him out of your room and closed the door since he won't stop talking.

Chanyeol's right though.

Your endings always have a rainy day, much to Chanyeol's chagrin.

It will always start with light-going events to the romantic scene of the main characters to the arrival of the conflict and then to the tragic death of the female character.

It always leaves the boy alone.

Broken.

"Back to work." You muttered to yourself as you sat down on your swivel chair and faced your laptop again. Your eyes focused on the screen as you typed the title of your new book.

| Love Me |

Your eyebrow scrunched together as you stared at the words.

"It's too common." You pressed the backspace bar as you bit your lip in concentration. "I should probably complete my plot first. Yeah. I'll do that."

You leaned back on your swivel chair and glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall in front of you. A picture of your family was taped beside it, making your lips curl up into a smile.

Your eyes drifted back to the calendar.

Today's November 20.

"4 months left." You whispered as you closed your eyes, resting them for awhile. "I'll finish the book before that."

I promise.

"Let's start brainstorming then."

You shut your eyes open with a motivated grin and quickly clicked Microsoft Word to begin writing.

"I can do this!"

✗ ❥ ✗ ❥ ✗ ❥ ✗ ❥ ✗ ✘

"Dasom, I can't do this."

She just scoffed as she let herself fall on your bed.

"This is not the first time you've said that and still ending up being the best author of the year. Stop kidding around, Park Yeoreum." Dasom closed her eyes as you continued staring at your laptop with an empty notepad.

"I swear! This is the first time I've ever been hit with a hard mind-block! I can't even think of a nice plot!" You groaned as you lightly bumped your head on your desk in frustration. "I'm going down!"

"You're being annoying, you know. Just clear your mind first. Relax for a week or something before diving into the world of your dark fantasies, my friend. Your books suck."

"My readers love my books, Dasom. They don't suck."

"Bad endings suck! Did you even think of your readers' hearts? I think they always break whenever they read your books."

You huffed as you turned to her.

"Happy endings don't happen unless you die with a happy life. My books contain all the truth you should know about life, not just sickeningly sweet romance that you can't ever have in life forever. Everything's bound to be broken and fixed." You looked up as you played with a toy of a fluffy white puppy. "It's just sometimes we don't know how to bring the pieces back together, that's why we end up crying and sad until the end. Life goes on whatever happens. You shouldn't get caught up with your broken heart and focus on moving forward instead."

"That's always the moral lesson in my mind whenever I finish a story." You smiled at the stuff toy in your hands.

"No wonder you're a great author. You say wonderful words." Dasom sat up straight, eyes wide open as she gapped at you.

You laughed at her comment.

"You'll come up with something, trust me." She shrugged.

"Thanks." You put down the stuff toy back on your desk. "Where are your younger sisters, by the way?"

"They're downstairs with your own sister. Probably gossiping about their crushes in college. Those girls really." Dasom shook her head as she stood up and walked towards you. She suddenly has a soft and worried expression on her face.

"I know that look." You looked back at your laptop and avoided her stare.

"I'm just worried. You know you can always count on me, okay?"

Your eyes went down on your keyboard as they slightly burned. You brought your hand to your chest, feeling the normal beats of your heart.

"There's nothing to worry about, Dasom. Everything will be fine."

You heard her sigh in defeat as she opened the door.

"Just call me if you need anything, okay?"

You hummed in reply, not bothering to look back at her as she stared at your back. With the last sigh released, she went out and close the door.

"Time's running, Yeoreum. Think fast." You mumbled as you opened a notebook before getting a black pen from your pencil case.

"We can start with the characters. Their traits, hobbies, relationships, etcetera." You scribbled on your notebook as your mind slowly started working. "Settings."

You smiled as you almost filled the page with writings.

"Main conflict..."

And you're back to none.

"Shit." You slumped on your chair as you cursed. "What the heck is the conflict now?"

You groaned as you stared at your notebook.

"Help me." You mumbled as you looked up on the ceiling.

A knock on your door interrupted you, making you grunt in response.

"Unnie, dinner's ready." Chanhee, your youngest dongsaeng, called out as she slowly opened your door. "Are you busy?"

"No, I, uh..." You sat up straight as you closed your notebook. "I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay then! Don't stress yourself out, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Dasom unnie already went home with Bora and Soyu. They said goodbye to me for you too."

"Is that so?"

"Yep! Come down, okay?"

You looked at the door as it closed.

"I think I need a break for awhile."

"Bye, noona!"

Chanyeol waved his hand as he went out of the house, leaving you with your parents and Chanhee at the table.

"He's still at that convenience store?" You asked, grabbing a glass of water.

"It's a good thing for us. Your brother's so enthusiastic about helping in our family's needs. Even Chanhee's working part-time in that ice-cream store near their school." Your mother said as she smiled at you.

"If you're all doing this so I can—"

"Stop now." Your father's stern voice echoed the room. "Just finish eating and go back to your room. Let your sister do the rest."

"I'm not a disabled person, dad. I can wash the dishes for this night—"

"You're disobeying me now, Yeoreum?"

You felt your father's hard stare, making you land your sight on your plate.

"N-No. I just want to help like before—"

"The only thing you can do is to listen to what I say and stay in your room."

You harshly dropped your glass, making Chanhee jump from her seat beside you. You stood up and walked upstairs without a word.

"Yeoreum, darling." Your mother's soothing voice called out as she stood up. But then the thud of your door made her sit back down. "Why can't you control your temper for once, In Sung?!"

"She won't back down if I go easy on her, Ga-in. You know how hard-headed she is. She's already an adult that can make her own choices but for her condition—"

"I understand your point but you'll hurt her in the process!"

"I-I'll go start washing the dishes."

As Chanhee spoke softly, it made the couple shut their mouths.

"I'm sorry, Chanhee—"

"It's fine to talk about unnie's condition because you're both worried, but please stop fighting. She won't be happy with it."

In Sung and Ga-in looked at each other as the youngest of their children went to the sink, leaving them speechless.

✗ ❥ ✗ ❥ ✗ ❥ ✗ ❥ ✗ 

"Just give me a little bit of inspiration, please." You mumbled as you wrote on your notebook again.

It was the third day of your empty page in your laptop. It was depressing to see.

"Noona?"

"Yeah, come in."

As Chanyeol went inside your room, your eyes remained on your notebook. He peeked at what you're writing and gasped.

"What?" You turned to him with an eyebrow raised.

"You're writing!" His fanboy feels started attacking him again, making you roll your eyes.

"Duh." You huffed, turning back to your notebook. "Fuck, yeol. You ruined it!"

"I didn't do anyth—"

"You distracted me, now my mind's blank!"

Chanyeol jutted his lower lip as he stared at you.

"Sorry."

"What are you doing here anyway?" You groaned as you rested your head on your hands placed on the desk. "You're not here to rant about the ending again, are you?"

"No, no! I'm just here to inform you something."

"What is it?"

"My best friend will be moving in the house next door. He's taking Architecture too! Everyone loves him like he's a god or something—"

"Why do I need to know this?" You lazily replied, looking at your window that shows another window of the house next door.

"Well, Chanhee's excited to meet him. You know how stupid she is when it comes to college boys. Sehun's a jerk though, so she shouldn't." Chanyeol said as he walked towards your bed, lying down as if he owned it. "I don't even know how we stayed as friends. He's a good guy but a playboy. He enjoys wrapping all the girls around his fingers. I think he even sleeps around. I tried talking to him about his ways but he's a hard-headed person like you. So I gave up and just let him do whatever he wants since he's handsome and smart. And--"

All of Chanyeol's words was taken in by your brain, making it start working like a machine. Your head shot up as you opened your notebook and wrote the ideas you suddenly have.

"You're a fucking genius, Yeol! I love you!"

Your younger brother just stared cluelessly at your smiling face as you wrote on your notebook.

"What? Did I say something awesome?" Chanyeol scratched the back of his head with a confused expression but suddenly grinned. "Whatever. As long as I can help!"

Yep, you did help.

—

❥ Ch.2

[bts-svt-mx]

Maid For You (Part 4) Taehyung x Reader

Author: bts-svt-mx

Taehyung x Reader

Jungkook x Reader

Rating: Fluff, M, eventual smut if i get to it lol

Tags: Slow burn, Enemies to Lovers AU, Idol! Taehyung, Taehyung x Reader, Jungkook x Reader, Hoseok, mentions of other members

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 (M), 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Word Count: 2,800

Description: Wanting to get out of your parents house and experience what the world had to offer is way more expensive than people tell you it will be. So when your glamorous “manager to the stars” cousin Hoseok hooks you up with a  job as the live-in maid for a hillside, massive mansion, you feel as though life might actually be looking up. That is until the mansion’s absentee high profile celebrity owner surprises you by moving back in leaving you to wonder if this mansion is big enough for you and his huge ego. 

You don’t know whether to feel relieved or not. Yes, you were happy that you still had a place to stay and you didn’t have to move back in with your parents leaving your beginnings of a life behind.

But on the other hand, Taehyung was right. You were stuck with him.

This mansion might be big, but Taehyung’s ego was already suffocating you.

Chapter 4:

     From that day on, your life in Taehyung’s mansion became a living hell. It was almost like he took time out of his day specifically to find ways to bother the crap out of you. Whether it was leaving a full mess in the kitchen after making his meals or tracking in mud through the front door on rainy days, everything Taehyung did caused you to have to basically follow him around cleaning up behind him.

Over the course of these few weeks, you had come to find out a couple of very specific things about Kim Taehyung. The first was that in the comfort of his own home, when Taehyung had no schedule for the day, he didn’t think it was important to wear a shirt. Like, ever. All he wore was his stupid silk pajama pants and fuzzy socks around the house. And even in the rare occasion that he did wear a shirt, it was usually the matching button down top to his silk pajama pants that was left unbuttoned.

Your little teenage crush on Taehyung had quite certainly ended the day you met him in person, but you had to admit, he was still a very attractive man. And even your strong will power had trouble not admiring his beautiful, toned stomach and stunning visuals as he walked so nonchalantly around the mansion. You were still overwhelmingly attracted to him. Or really only to his body. But you still hated yourself for it.

The second thing you noticed about Kim Taehyung was that he was a very, very needy person. And not just any kind of needy, the kind of needy where it felt like he couldn’t be left to his own devices for more than an hour without calling you to ask a snarky question, ask you to fetch an item for him, or do some stupid task for him that was so random and unnecessary that you’re starting to think he’s just making it up as he goes.

But you were his maid, not his personal servant. And you told him that multiple times. But each time you would object to a task he would give you, his response would be along the lines of: “You know how close Hoseok and I are. And even though he’s the one controlling your employment here, I can be very persuasive when I want to be. I could call him right now actually-” And to that you would jump at his words to put a stop to whatever he was about to do. Grumbling in acceptance of whatever menial task he had assigned to you.

They weren’t even a veiled threats. He would just outright give you an ultimatum. And to be very frank, with Taehyung’s power and influence in his record label, he had the ability to just fire Hoseok in an instant and then fire you directly after.

But Taehyung wouldn’t be that cruel… Or would he?

Eventually you stopped fighting back, until one very specific request pushed you over the line.

“Oh Y/N!” The intercom chimed from the hallway of your wing of the mansion with Taehyung’s sickenly smooth, deep voice. Ugh, you wish you could rip that thing out of the wall!

It was so nice in your bed. So warm and soft with the new fluffy blanket you had just bought from the department store. It was a bit of a splurge but you had a little extra money from selling one of your paintings at your painting classes’ semi-annual art auction and you decided to treat yourself to something nice for the increasingly chilly Fall nights ahead.

The absolute last thing you wanted to do was drag yourself out of bed to go see what ridiculous thing Taehyung could want from you at this hour. It was after 11:00 PM. What could you do for him this late at night?

The intercom was so far away. You could ignore him and pretend like you didn’t hear it because you were sleeping, but you learned your lesson about a week ago when Taehyung wouldn’t stop calling your name for an hour straight until you answered.

So off to the intercom you went. Stepping out of your bed with your comfy blanket left behind, you drag your feet out of your room to your wing’s common area and press the round button on the intercom. “What could you possibly want Taehyung? Haven’t I done enough for you today?” Your words come out in a sort of croak from not having spoken in a couple of hours while relaxing in your room.

Taehyung had gone out to god knows where for a couple of hours leaving you with some much needed ‘me time’ consisting of a few laps in the pool, a nice stop by the sauna, and a relaxing night of catching up on your reading in your bed.

“Come to my room,” Taehyung speaks from the other side of the intercom. “I have a present for you.”

“Do I seriously have to Taehyung? Can’t this wait until tomorrow?” You really didn’t want to make the trek all the way to his side of the house. It was easily a 10 minute walk to the other side. Hence the need for the intercom system. In fact, most of the times Taehyung had called you to do something it was usually through the intercom or in passing while you were out of your wing in the main part of the house cleaning.  

But a present? Taehyung has never been any kind of nice to you and he’s definitely not a giving person. What could he want to gift you?

“I buy a present for you out of the goodness of my heart and you’re telling me that you can’t find it in you to walk a couple of steps to my room to come collect it from me?” His words come out like a child’s pout and you hate the way he is guilting you into this but your morals tell you that he is right. And you know he won’t stop pestering you until you go over there.

You decide it’s really not worth the fight. There are other battles to be won with this kid. “Be there in 10.” You curtly answer and head out of your wing without listening to whether he gives a response or not.  

The house is dim since it’s only two residents were about to go to sleep on their own sides of the house, but you navigate through the white marbled floor, white walled hallways easily. This house is truly beautiful, especially at night. The artworks scattered throughout the house consist of statues, paintings, framed drawings, and even a really cool installed digital art piece. The individual spotlights on each work are the only source of lighting around you.

Eventually you land at Taehyung’s bedroom door. There’s muffled music coming from the other side. Slow and sensual. Relaxing. Sounds of your light knock on the intricate black wood door reverberate over the soft sound of music.

“Come in,” His low voice calls. Of course he couldn’t be bothered to open the door for you. Thoughts like that probably never cross his mind. Why would he willingly get up and open the door when you could open it yourself perfectly fine? Jeez, even the things that this boy doesn’t do bothers you.

You don’t know what you were expecting. You had cleaned Taehyung’s room before but it had always been when he was away. With his presence, though, everything feel different. It felt like everything in this room was designed specifically to accentuate Taehyung’s aura. It was everything that pulled you into Taehyung when you were his fan. It was what you had always imagined being around him would be like.

Smooth and mellow music floated through the air and the slightly dimmed lighting brought out the deepness of the maroon and grey colored walls. His room was a distinctly different style from the rest of the mansion, but why, you never found out. And it smelled like him, weirdly enough. That cologne you had been intoxicated by on the first day you met him seemed to be seeping from the walls.

You were walking into a lion’s den with the lion right in front of you. But for some reason, you still dragged your feet forward.

Taehyung was lounging comfortably on top of his impossibly large bed, propped up with his shirtless torso leaning on a sea of dark grey pillows to match his bedding. He was holding some book and wearing one of his countless silk pajama pants. This pair was a dark blue paisley print. Seriously, how many pairs of those did he have? You’ve never seen him wear the same pair. Not like you were paying any attention to that.

As soon as you walked through the threshold, Taehyung’s gaze was on you. His blonde hair was damp, as if he just got out of the shower before you walked in. If that was true, thank god he bothered to put on pants before you got here.

You thought your room was big when you first moved in, but that was just one of the guest rooms. Taehyung’s room was the master bedroom. And in its entirety, it could be its own house. Among other things, there is a sitting area with a large flat screen to the left of the massive plush bed, a mahogany bookcase which was actually a staircase to the upper loft with another sitting area and a beautiful skylight, and to the right of the bed, decorations and a doorway leading to the large spa like bathroom and closet.

With his eyes still trained on you, you come to a stop a few feet from the foot of the bed. A safe distance, you think. You really disliked the guy in front of you but damn, was this room and your physical attraction to him getting the best of you right now. Maybe it’s just because you’re tired and you can’t think too straight, but if you moved any closer to him, you weren’t sure what would happen.

Taehyung’s dark expression turns into a smirk as he still lounges in his relaxed position. His eyes rake down your body slowly making you slightly uncomfortable. You clear your throat. “Well? I’m here.” You weren’t going to wait forever. You could practically hear your bed and new blanket calling your name.

“That you are,” He takes his time to answer after he’s fully looked you over. “And in such skimpy clothing,” His words come out slightly breathy and he licks his lips as he shifts his position to tilt his torso forward to get a better look at you. Looking down, you realize you forgot to change into something more modest than your short pajama shorts and light tank top in your haste to solve the nuisance of Taehyung’s call. You didn’t even have your bra on. You were fully ready to go to bed until his stupid request.

You fix your shorts from where they had slightly ridden up on your walk over here and fold your arms across your chest instinctively. “You said you had something for me.” Is all you reply. Better to keep your conversations short and simple. This room. With it’s seductive music and smells and darkness. And Taehyung looking like that. It’s threatening to cloud your judgement and you really can’t let the lion attack. You just had to keep telling yourself that he is one of the rudest, most entitled, selfish people you have ever met. Who cares if he’s hot. You were never going to go down that road.

Taehyung nods as he moves his legs to the side of the bed and pushes himself up to slowly walk in your direction. You don’t move an inch as you stand your ground and train your eyes to the wall. Avoiding stealing a glance at his beautifully golden torso and low riding pajama pants as he walks towards you. Ok, maybe you peeked a little.

You were so focused on not looking at him that you miss how he has come to stand right behind you until you can practically feel his presence close to your back. His scent is stronger now. He smells clean and that hint of jasmine you smelled on him from before is stronger now. In a moment, Taehyung’s plump lips are at your ear. His hand slowly snakes around your waste to rest just lightly at your upper waist, dangerously close to the underside of your breast, caressing the space there. Your body tenses up instantly.

“Tell me baby…” His breath tickles your ear and your body starts to betray you. There’s no way for Taehyung to know this, but baby is your favorite pet name and you can’t help but shiver at his use of the word with his low voice. Obviously taking notice to your reaction, he chuckles lowly behind you. “Is this what you wear every night, or do you wear even less when it gets hot?” Taehyung squeezes the area of your torso he has under his palm in emphasis. His words and his touch strike something in you and you immediately feel heat pool between your legs. You almost moan but bite your tongue quickly to save yourself from that embarrassment. You couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how he affected you. But before you can think any further or protest in any way, Taehyung, his lips, and his hand, are gone as soon as they appeared.

You turn quickly around about to give him a piece of your mind in protest but Taehyung disappears into his walk-in closet and re-appears a minute later with something on a hanger.

 Is... Is that what I think it is?  

Taehyung stands proudly with the outfit in front of him. If you could even call it an outfit. In reality, it was a white see-through bodice and bralette with a short black skirt that wouldn’t even cover half of your ass. And attached were black fishnet stockings with with bows on the tops of them.    

“What the hell is that?” This really couldn’t be your ‘gift’ could it? You were dumbfounded once again by this boy and so unbelievably offended. You have honestly never been more mad in your life. Only Taehyung could get you all hot and bothered and then immediately turn around and piss you off.

But a slutty maid costume? Are you fucking kidding me! After running around tirelessly over these past few weeks, doing everything he has asked you with only a little bit of resistance at the beginning, with not so much as a thank you for anything you have done for him. He tells you he has a gift for you and it turns out to be a slutty fucking maid costume?

“It’s your gift! I saw it and instantly thought of you.”  The mockery was crystal clear in his eyes. Taehyung raises his eyebrow suggestively. “I want you to wear it around the house from now on,” He looks so amused with himself. So satisfied with his sick humor.

He wasn’t doing this to be funny. No, this was beyond a joke. The anger inside of you kept growing until you barely could take it anymore.

No. No way. You were not under any circumstances ever, ever going to put on that costume. Taehyung could ask you to do anything else for the house and you would not object. But this? This takes disrespect to a whole new, personal level.

“No.” You say simply. Surprisingly very calm for what fury you feel like unleashing on the inside. But you have to stay strong. He can’t see how this affects you. He wants your reaction.

Taehyung’s devilish smirk falters for a second, but then returns quickly. “I’m sorry, would you like me to call Hoseok and tell him you’re being unreasonably uncooperative with me? You know, I have already been telling him how unwilling you are to do actual work in this house,”

You can’t help but scoff at that. You literally did everything for this house. But you didn’t care anymore. His threats meant nothing to you. And if you had to continue with this mistreatment, you didn’t want to be forced to comply anymore. No matter what life you would be giving up. “Go ahead. Call Hoseok and tell him how I won’t wear your slutty maid costume around the house to be paraded around like your own personal play thing. I’m sure he would love to hear how intentionally degrading you are being towards his employee and his cousin.”

Your words are firm and strong. You will not let him take advantage of you. “Go ahead. Get me fired. But I have never and will never tolerate being treated like this. Goodnight, Taehyung.”

And with that, you push past him walking straight back to your own wing of the mansion. Far, far away from that despicable man you left behind you. 

The third thing you had learned about Taehyung: He truly had no boundaries.

<-- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter -->

[stevethehairington]

for yo character headcanons: our bois sam, steve and bucky ILY

thank youuuuu for the ask my dear! this is gonna be a fun one haha. ily tooo

character headcanons

Sam:

1. sexuality headcanon

i feel like sam could probably fall under the pansexual label; most of my ships for him are with females so it wasn’t until i got into the sam/riley ship that i really gave his sexuality a lot of thought. but yeah i adore sam being with riley and honestly the idea of him being with like steve or bucky too is good too, i could defs see him getting his flirt on with those two dorks. 

2. otp

this is. so hard. bc like. i can see sam with literally so many different people. like i love sam/riley, but i also really love sam/maria, and then sam/natasha is nice too, and really really oddly i thought of sam/becca today and like. at least in the fic i’m considering writing atm, it works really well so yeah. idk if i have a solid otp for sam. i guess i usually stick with either riley or maria though depending on the situation. 

3. brotp

oh man. literally the steve/sam brotp and the sam/bucky brotp and the sam/steve/bucky brotps give me so much life. all three of these losers are so good together they play off of each other so well theyre really the Dream Team.

i also really like sam and natasha’s friendship too, i’ve seen some fics get it really good.

4. notp

uhhh, there aren’t really any sam ships that just out to me as a Major No. i guess i’m not super into the idea of sam and clint being a thing? but like it doesn’t really bother me as a ship in general or anything.

5. first headcanon that pops into my head

okay in any fic i write in which it’s a no powers au (so like most of what i write lmao) i have this hc that sam is dubbed the bird whisperer in anyone’s phone. so he was at the park with steve or bucky or whoever he’s mainly friends with in the fic and while he was there he ended up doing something (not quite sure what, maybe i’ll figure that out and write about it one day who knows) and whatever he did brought all the birds to his yard and they l o v e d him, and some even followed him around a little, thus he was dubbed the bird whisperer. 

6. one way in which i relate to this character

i too would do anything for steve rogers. lmao no for real though, sam has a really good loyalty about him and he’s willing to do anything for his friends (i.e. take them in, fight with/for them, etc. etc.) and i like to think that those are qualities i have as well.

7. things that give me second hand embarrassment about this character

i honestly can’t think of anything rn?? like sam’s a p cool, suave dude, he hasn’t really done anything, at least in canon, that makes me super cringe in embarrassment.

8. cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

cinnamon roll for sure!

Steve:

1. sexuality headcanon

BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISEXUAL MY DUDE. listen there is no way n o w a y steve rogers is not a bisexual man. i mean, come on. have yall seen the movies? steve rogers is in love with bucky barnes, peggy carter, sam wilson, natasha romanoff, and the list probably goes on. no but for real, bucky is literally his life partner, the love of his entire fucking life. tws?? a romcom for fuckin sure. but he also really was in love with peggy carter in tfa, i mean who wouldn’t be she’s fuckin badass and hot af and just a kickass woman. i’m in love with her too steve. and then you cannot tell me he isn’t flirting with sam at the beginning of tws because he so is. and i bet while bucky was Gone he probably somehow got his hands on some of thor’s asguardian mead or whatever at some avengers party and he and nat drunkenly kissed a little just to see what it was like (yknow before she got with clint ofc). but seriously this boy is a Bisexual Disaster and we all know it. 

2. otp

is this even a question? obviously its stucky. they’re my reason for breathing tbh. no jk but i love them to death and listen you cannot tell me that they are not fucking soulmates okay? bc they are. they ARE. there is literally not a single heterosexual explanation for a n y t h i n g they do. the “keeping the uniform” bit in tfa? gay! the “shared experience” line? gay! breaking through 70+ years of brainwashing by reciting your wedding vows? gay! they are so in love it hurts!!

3. brotp

i have a lot of steve brotps tbh. i love the steve/natasha friendship so so sooo much. i really love how they did it in tws and i really just love the idea of them being close with each other like that. i also really love the steve/sam friendship ofc too. they play off of each other so well, and their flirty banter gives me lifeeee. i do like a good steve/tony friendship as well, and i like steve/wanda friendship too, i feel like they have a good relationship. 

4. notp

steve/sharon lmao. okay so like. i don’t exactly hate it, as in i don’t have a problem with the ship if it were done right. but bc it was so poorly done in the mcu i Do Not like it and i Do Not support. like the timing was horrible, it was all very no homo, the fact that she’s peggy’s niece and they flirt literally right after her funeral was in such poor taste and it makes me seriously uncomfortable, and also the way the mcu totally made sharon’s character nothing more than a love interest, and a really poorly done one too, just pisses me off bc she couldve been a really badass character if they wanted to make her one. so yeah. there’s just a lot of reasons why i Do Not like this ship. but it doesn’t like squick me or anything and i can tolerate it as like an old ship in fics, like she was steve’s ex before he met bucky or smth like that. 

5. first headcanon that pops into my head

6. one way in which i relate to this character

i too would wbecome a wanted government fugitive and fight anyone who got in the way for bucky barnes

7. things that give me second hand embarrassment about this character

again, i can’t really think of anything that gives me too much second hand embarrassment about steve… i guess maybe just the fact that he’s a disaster when it comes to his feelings for people can make me have to look away and shake my head at his dumbass antics lmao. 

8. cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

cinnamon role fo sho

Bucky:

1. sexuality headcanon

BIIIIIIIIIISEXUAL AS WELL MY DUDEEE. i could see bucky as straight up gay as well, but i like to stick with the bisexual label bc 1. im bisexual and i like to see my faves as bi too lmao and 2. i do think that he genuinely did like going out with girls back in the 40s and taking them dancing and shit. like he was definitely flirty and suave and good with the ladies but i dont think it was all for show. like i think he really did like those girls. ofc he loves steve though, like i said, soulmates! but yeah, my boy is defs bisexual too!

2. otp

again, obviously stucky, see above for my rantings and ramblings about why lmao.

3. brotp

i have a lot of brotps for bucky too lol. i fuckin love the banter between bucky/sam, like the mcu did that right! and i hope that their show can deliver more of this Good Content. they work so well, it’s that love/hate realtionship and i am Here For It. they secretly love each other as best friends despite what it may seem. i also really really really love the bucky/natasha friendship, like sign me the fuck up!! they would be the best of friends and i just. love this friendship so much. i also like the bucky/clint friendship too, i feel like these two dumbasses would get up to some good shit together lol. 

4. notp

hmmm, i guess i could say bucky/tony for this. like. i don’t know much about this ship and i dont read for it or anything so i really just dont like it bc i cant see them together romantically or anything. so like idk if i can call that a notp bc i dont hate it or anything, it’s just not my cup of tea.

5. first headcanon that pops into my head

this one is tried and true but it’s always the first bucky hc that pops into mind. bucky was drafted, he didn’t enlist on his own. he refuses to tell steve that though bc of how fucking scared he is about it and bc he knows how much steve wants it, he doesnt want steve to think hes ungrateful or doesnt care about his country or anything like that. so he hides his letter away somewhere he knows steve will never find it. 

steve only finds out when he finds bucky on the table in azzano reciting his number which evidently, gives up the fact that he was drafted. 

6. one way in which i relate to this character

i too would follow that little guy from brooklyn that was too dumb not to run away from a fight to the jaws of death klgsj. no but really, bucky doesnt like to fight, he doesnt. he never wanted to go to war in the first place, he’s not the one that starts the fights, only finishes steve’s when he can’t, and he’s tired of war and fighting and all that. and i think that that’s something i have in common with bucky, that i dont want to fight unless it’s the last resort. like i’d rather try to civally solve a problem than jump straight to the arguing and fighting bits yknow?

7. things that give me second hand embarrassment about this character

again, i can’t think of much that embarrasses me about bucky. he’s a p chill dude. 

8. cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

cinnamon roll and you can’t tell me otherwise. 

[wanna1things]

Soulmate!Kang Daniel

i want daniel to be MY soulmate i LOVE him with all of my heart <3

Genre;; fluff and a whole ass soulmates au;; i might do this sort of au for every member,, like a different soulmate au for each one but?? Idk also university!au

Warnings;; nothing really

Pairing;; Kang Daniel x reader

Requested;; nope another thing kind of from my backlog kinda

Soulmate AU Type;; You dream some of the treasured memories of your soulmate up until when you touch for the first time. The soulmate’s face is censored in the dreams, but their name isn’t.

Summary;; You’ve been searching for your soulmate for longer than you can remember. All you know about him is that he loves dancing and... jelly bears…? That is until you dream of your own university… and your own room...

Style;; bullet point

Word Count;; 1595

Also in this series;; Woojin | Jihoon  | Jinyoung | Minhyun

THIS au has been in my brain for the longest time and Daniel fits the storyline the best so enjoy!! its kind of short for this kind of au but it’s because its quite fast paced once you get past the initial bit lol

the first time you had one of the so-called ‘soulmate dreams’ you knew straight away what it was

your parents had told you about it frequently and how they started having their dreams when they were around 4

you were a bit of a late bloomer

it was the week after your 12th birthday, and by that point all of your friends had had some dreams, and some had even met their soulmate

but you’d never had anything, which made everyone worried that you were a loveless - a person without a soulmate

you and your parents were so pleased when your first dream finally happened lol

but your dream was a little different than other people’s

mainly because whoever your soulmate was…

they were performing?? on a stage??

most people had normal dreams, like a first day of school, making friends, getting a good grade on a test, doing a nice piece of work something like that

this sort of thing was rare, especially as a first dream

at first you thought like wow okay guess my soulmate is a celebrity i guess that's cool

and you knew his name, kang euigeon, because they announced it before he performed lol

I mean that was until he changed it to daniel

all the dreams seemed to be related to performing and dancing and stuff, but there were also some;; sad dreams

there was one dream that really stood out, and it appeared to be him meeting his best friend

it started off with him being bullied for looking ‘different’, when the person who became his best friend stepped in and shut them all up

it was a sweet memory but it made you worried because ?? my soulmate is being bullied?? gotta help!!!

it continued on like this for ages, with odd treasured memories popping up every couple of months

one that you found hilarious was his best friend buying him a massive jelly bear for his 16th birthday

when i say massive i mean massive like it was the size of the table

it was gone in 0.5 seconds (realistically it took him and his friends more like 30 minutes)

you often felt sad as your friends were finding and meeting their soulmates, or gradually finding out more about them

but the places you saw in the memories never seemed like they were anywhere near you

in fact you couldn’t even work out if he was even in the same country as you

your friends kept encouraging you to go on holidays, just in case you’d bump into him somewhere there but,, nothing seemed to work?

it was like you were cursed to never meet him which would suck

and you’d heard the stories of people like that, who ended up forming ‘fake’ relationships with people without soulmates and then every night dreaming of their soulmate again

sounded like a depressing life

and a life that seemed to be coming ever closer

in an attempt to salvage what may be the only hope in your life, you poured yourself into your studies

and by poured i mean hello 24/7 365 honor roll student

you managed to score a place in one of the top universities in the country to study international relations with a minor in dance

mainly because you love it, but also because you feel like…. It might bring you closer to your soulmate, you can’t really explain why lol

but on the night after you go and visit the university you have a dream that almost scares the living daylights out of you

it started off with him boarding a plane on his own and coming to what seemed to be your country but then it skipped time a bit

and he was at the university you were set to attend, at the same open day as you

you began to think back about who you saw today, was he one of them? you had no idea

you pushed it to the back of your mind as you prepared for the start of the semester

you’d decided to live off campus with a couple of your friends and some friends of friends

there was mention of the last room being advertised online because they couldn’t find anybody to take the spot but you didn’t really take notice

when it came to moving in day, you spent so much time saying goodbye to your various friends (and their soulmates) and of course your family

you ended up not actually getting there to move in until 4

when you got there you greeted what seemed to be all of your flatmates for the year and they seemed really nice but the numbers didn’t add up

there was an extra room next to yours?

when you looked inside, someone had unpacked in there already and their stuff was strewn all over the floor (someone’s messy)

so you decided to ask your roommate about;;; whose room is it

‘the room next to yours? it’s daniel’s! he’s a business major with a minor in dance like you so you might see him around!! he’s out tonight though,, i think his friends are over or something’

your heart almost skipped a beat when you heard daniels name

but then you quickly realised that yeah,, that’s actually a super common name what are the chances

that was until you dreamed your own flat that night

and the room next door to you

IT WAS SO HARD TO NOT FREAK OUT THE NEXT DAY

especially when you saw someone you didn’t recognise in the kitchen the next day

by someone i mean you’re pretty sure it was daniel

I mean you took one look at him, realised that it wasn’t one of your flatmates that you’d met (so it basically had to be daniel) theN YOU REALISED OKAY YEAH YOU HAVE AN ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS SOULMATE

and he was cooking pancakes shirtless uMDJSHSF

it’s just…

you weren’t expecting to THEN see him in literally the first class you ever had at uni

he smiled brightly at you and waved you over to the seat next to him, quickly introducing himself

‘hello y/n!! i’m kang daniel and i’m your roommate that you didn’t meet yesterday! sorry i was out it’s just that i had to see some friends and that but the others told me who you were and that lol’;; i heard you’re a dance minor too so i guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other

yeah you tuned out for half of that because fhsdfghf not only is he the most beautiful human but he also has the most ADORABLE SMILE

you shift a bit away from him in your seat because okay you’ve heard stories about what happens when you touch your soulmate for the first time and you do NOT want this happening in the middle of when you’re meant to have a lecture

your friends had told you that basically the part of your body which touches glows bright white and you have like a quick 1 minute recap of all of the dreams

yeah not ideal for a lecture

but daniel, being daniel, does not know this because a) too hyped about meeting his soulmate finally and b) does he look like the type to know what’s going to happen? No

your heart drops when he taps your shoulder to ask you for a pencil sharpener right when the lecturer says ‘this is something you need to remember - it’s important!’

REALLY DANIEL GREAT JOB

as your shoulder begins to glow softly, you look up at him and roll your eyes as he looks at you in complete shock

yep he has no idea whats going on

before you know it the dream recaps started and you’re watching him eat the damn jelly bear again

but what your friends never told you is the dream finishes with an image of your first kiss together

UHHHHH when you saw yourself and daniel in a beautiful garden, sharing a soft kiss, you FREAKED THE HELL OUT

but daniel being daniel knew exactly what to go

cue being dragged out of the lecture theatre by daniel, protesting wildly as your lecturer looks at you two comPLETELY BEWILDERED

he leads you to the gardens nearby the university campus and sits down on a bench by the roses, motioning for you to sit next to him

its silent for a bit until out of nowhere he’s like

‘god that was a long time coming’

you can’t help but laugh because ;; yeah it really did take a lONG TIME

its silent again but… its not awkward

it feels like you two have known each other since forever and tbh you are just basking in each other’s presence

suddenly daniel stands up and plucks a rose from the bush behind him

thank god theres no thorns lol

you’re about to protest about how you’re pretty sure you cant go around picking flowers like that before he kneels down in front of you

and you’re a little shook o

‘y/n!! i’m so glad we met today!! i have been trying to find you ever since i had that first dream!! i hope we can make some precious memories together now!!’

he holds out the rose for you to take it so of course you do

he stands up quickly and presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss

and you swear from that moment onwards

you know for a fact that everything will be okay, because you have him

the end is cheesy bc i didn’t know how to end it lmao anyway;;; yeah i uh;;; hope this wasn’t terrible to read lol;; ok im off to bed goodnightt

[joylessholland]

Rivals (Part 1)  Harry Potter!au

TOMHOLLANDXREADER 

(1,559 words)    (i might change the title)

request: Yes

Warning: Swearing, prod bad writing, I’M NOT JK ROWLING

A/N: I love Harry Potter so much so i had a really hard time writing this, i wanted to do it justice so i hope it did. I might do more (these might take a while to write) also i have been kinda depressed lately so writing has been kinda slow i’m hopefully gonna get back into it this week! This is also my first request so if you wanna send some go ahead.

Masterlist   Request   ENJOY

 “Aya, Aya where are you girl? We’re going to be late!” you shout looking behind a stack of wands. “[Y/N] darling” your mother chimes holding a Sable ferret out for you. “Found her in the workshop, are you ready to go?” she asked placing Aya in your bag “Yeah, just needed Aya” “You should be off then, gosh fifth year already” she says pecking your cheek “I wish I could see you off but” you cut her off “First day of school busiest time of year” smiling you grab your luggage cart and make to the door blowing your mum one last kiss you shut the door behind you. “Ollivander’s now open, get your wands” you shout to the patrons of Diagon Alley

“You’re lucky we didn’t miss the train” you whisper to Aya who has found herself curled up in your Ravenclaw scarf. Sticking your wand in the door before it closes the conductor smiles “Just in time, lass. Ticket?” handing the man you ticket he ushers you onto the train, and takes your luggage. Walking down the long aisle of compartments, your lateness cost you a good spot on the train coming to the only somewhat empty compartment you knock on the glass.

“Do you mind, everywhere else is full?” you ask the two boys in the compartment “Of course” one says motioning to the empty bench across from them “Thanks, the price of being late I suppose” you laugh grabbing Aya from you bag “Come on girl, stretch your legs” you say placing her on the seat next to you scratching her ear and turning in a circle she morphs into a black cat wearing a small pink charm round its neck. “Brilliant” one of the boys blurt “[Y/N] Ollivander, and this is Aya.” You stick out your hand and they shake it “I remember you, you sold me my wand. I’m Harrison, thats Tom” “What was it…” you think for a moment “A walnut, thirteen and a half inches, unicorn hair, my grandad taught me to never forget a wand” “How’d she do that thing with changing” Harrison asks pointing to Aya “She wears a Transfiguration charm, she can transform into anything her size anything bigger and gets really tired. T’was a gift.”

“Anything off the trolley, anything off the trolley dears?” the old sweat lady asks “A gummy snake and one pumpkin cookie” pulling out your coin purse handing the women three gold coins. The snake squirms in the package. Placing the cookie down for Aya you unwrap the gummy snake, it hisses and wiggles in you grasp after a few hisses from Aya you bite the head and the gummy goes stiff.

Walking back into the compartment you see the boys have both changed into their robes as well, seeing them in uniform you recognize them better “Wait, your Tom Holland, the Gryffindor seeker? You look different.” You ask tightening your tie. When you say different you really mean hot, Tom Holland was scrawny and sure as hell didn’t have that face last year. “Everyone says that” he laughs. “You do, you were almost as hard to see as the snitch” you giggle “right, you’re the Ravenclaw seeker” he says looking you up and down, nodding you hear the train whistle taking your seat you await the sight of the station

----SOME TIME LATER---

“Now let the feast begin” Headmistress McGonagall shout as food appears before you. Glazed ham, green beans, sweet rolls, and wheat roll all the food you could imagine. The evening sky bewitched on the ceiling candles floating through the air. When the boy across from you reaches for a chicken leg you catch a glance of Tom staring at you, mouth full of food he gives you a strange look and returns to his conversation. When the feast ends your called back to your dorm for bunk placement.

---TOMORROW---

“Mr. Holland, can you please tell me three main ingredients of a love potion”” The professor asks knowing the boys in the back weren’t playing attention “um, yeah its, uh” he flipped through his book “Can anyone tall me” the professor asked the class, when no one answered you blurted out “Ashwinder Egg, Rose Thorns, and uh, Refined Peppermint Oil, sir” you hated speaking in class “Very good Miss Ollivander, now” as the lesson began you stole a glance back at Tom who was glaring at you. Did I do something you think.

As you were on your way back to the Ravenclaw common room the stair case began to shutter and the move. Grabbing the railing you curse under your breath “Damn thing” someone said from behind you, yelping you turn quickly dropping a book over the side on the railing. Aya jumps from your bag then off the now stationary staircase “Don’t do that ya, div” you laugh punching you friend Mary Potter in the arm. “Sorry, I haven’t seen you and I got excited and hopped on before it could move.” Pulling her into a tight hug “I missed you, how was your holiday?” you ask as a hawk perches on the railing next you with a book a book in its mouth “Mum and I went to China with the Weasley’s. Hello Aya” she says patting the bird as you walk.

Picking a grape off the vine you flip the page in your potion book “Are you nervous?” Mary asks playing with Aya who is now a cat

“About what?” plopping a leaf into your cauldron it bubbles, was it supposed to do that. “The first game of the year, quidditch?” excitement poured out of her “Not really, should I be?” you ask popping another grape in your mouth “Tom’s been training a lot and he got…well better” she says sheepishly “Tell him to bring it on, may the best seeker, uh, team win” you giggling is cut short by the very serious look on Mary’s face “Look, he may seem like a nice guy but, he isn’t. The guy is competitive as all hell and would do anything to win, just be careful” she whispered while leaving. How bad could he be, on the train he seemed sweet.

 “Welcome everyone to the first quidditch match of the season, were in for a treat today ladies and gentlemen. We have Gryffindor facing off against Ravenclaw.” The announcers voice boomed over the roar off the crowd

“Let’s get out the and play some ball.” The caption yelled as the doors opened and he flew out. Gripping the broom, you zoomed from out into the open air, you missed the feeling so much. The wind in your hair, the deafening sound of the crowd, and the smile plastered on your face. Across the field Gryffindor’s team flew through the air, heading towards the middle of the field Madam Hutch stood whistle in hand “I want a nice clean game…” she looked at Tom who snickered “on my mark” she bent down picked up the Quaffle she counted to three before throwing in the air beginning the game.

Zipping through the air you scan the field, Mary was in position of the Quaffle and was whizzing through the air towards the hoops throwing the ball she misses and the ball is intercepted by one of you chasers. The game played on and your team was three points behind when you finally saw a small golden flicker from the corner of your eyes, turning the snitched was sat hovering just out of arms reach “Here we go” you giggle lunging at the small ball as it flies off, zooming through the air a Bludger streaks by thankfully not smashing into you. Losing sight of the snitch for a moment you scan the field again when your eyes focus on Tom on his broom reaching out his arm.

Weaving through the field you come up right next to Tom, giving you a devilish smile he knocks into you, gripping your broom tightly you stay your path. Looking straight at the snitch you monitor Tom’s action from out of your periphery. After a sharp left Tom makes to ram you again but to his surprise before making contacted you dove a few feet down causing him to fly in the complete wrong direction. Steading your broom you push off landing on your feet, reaching for the snitch you can feel its wings brush against your fingertips. Your broom begins to wobble, looking behind you Tom is in hot pursuit with a look of pure anger on his face, gripping tightly you lean forward even more under you the broom wiggles then thrashes as Tom rams you again. With a yelp you plummet to the ground, hitting the ground hard you hear a loud ringing and a faint crack.

Opening your eyes, you see Madam Hutch smiling accompanied by the headmistress a look of concern on her wrinkled face, A sharp pain shoots through your arm looking down you see that it’s being treated by a Madam Pomfrey. In your other hand you feel a something small wiggling around opening your hand the snitch zips out and hovers just above you. Smiling you looks around, the crowd was going wild, your team was hugging and cheering. “It appears I’ve fallen off my broom” you giggle as the world goes black,

THX 4 READING

Here are some beautiful KITTENS: @midtownvaledictorian@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked@tiemeupspidey @captain-katie-xx@panicatttckiss@champagneholland@seilamigliorcosacheabbiamaivisto@mendes-holland @maggie-starz @natalie-kn@vaeyron@wonderyoung @ging3r-fall@louisnholland@little-weirdo-13@calumminter@sunshiineandmoonliight @m-snop@tomhstories @rosieeemma @societalreject @bibs-fortuna  @antisocialoutcast12 @jadabelle @las-civus@oceantostars @tiemeupspidey @dr-tardis-who@hazelgracewatersaugustus @jessica-moon9 @sophietanda @yasstoeverygirloutthere @beccaaahh5711 @emptyy-skyy @parkeretmj

[dong-hyucks]

fear is our enemy. | na jaemin [3]

➳ genre. spy!au, future!au, angst, minor fluff ➳ warnings. mentions of blood and death, character death in later chapters, swearing ➳ word count. 4k+ ➳ author’s note. iajhjkawhg i’M SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER - admin. jade ➳ synopsis. [Y/N] Park, the adopted daughter of late director Park Minjun, crosses paths with Na Jaemin, a spy known for his aloof tendencies. 

➳ masterlists. | 1. | 2. | 3. | 4. | 5. | 6. | 7. | 8. | 9. | epilogue. 

  Jaemin stared back defiantly, gesturing for him to continue. “Whoever has the highest win by the end of the night,” Baekhyun paused for dramatic effect, a smirk playing his lips like a violin.

  “– gets to take Hyonhui back up to his room.”

   You nearly choked on air, your eyes widening ever so slightly before returning back to normal. You caught eyes with one of Baekhyun’s friends, a small, devious smile creeping up on you. You had to stay in character. You have to, you repeated to yourself as if it were a mantra. Looking over to Jaemin, you raised an eyebrow. He appeared calm and collected, as he had looked the entire evening.

   “I accept.”

   If you hadn’t been playing as his fickle temptress of a wife, you would’ve hit Jaemin across the head with the barrel of your gun. Jaemin must’ve caught your subtle vexation. He looked down at the smooth, green surface of the craps table with a smirk, his cocksure composure making you narrow your eyes.

  Baekhyun, seemingly unaware of your minute exchange, leaned forward with the same overweening grin he had when you arrived mere moments beforehand. “Alright,” he motioned. All at once, his friends shifted closer, their actions causing you to subconsciously grip the hidden holster underneath the skirt of your dress. Baekhyun noticed and smiled, putting his hand atop yours. You had to stop yourself from socking him across the jaw, his hand moving a little too far up, instead forcing a foxy smile-- at least what you hoped was even remotely close to foxy. Finally, Baekhyun looked up at Jaemin, eyeing the younger male down scrutinizingly. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

  You watched as the men began to play the tense game of craps, your eyes carefully observing each and every player’s hands as they buzzed over the table. You noticed the way Jaemin started to frown halfway through. His frown, to you, seemed far too forced to be real. It was only when Jaemin lost a considerably easy hand did it click.

  He was losing on purpose.

  Jaemin merely looked up, glancing over at you in silent conversation. You subtly nodded, flicking strands of false, black hair over your shoulder. It wasn’t long before the game was over; Jaemin didn’t have any money left to bet-- visible money, anyway. Baekhyun blinked as he leaned back, knitting his brows together.

  “You,” he drawled, the bored expression that had overcome his face long before exaggerating, “are possible the worst craps player I have ever faced.” Turning to you, he winked. “Not that I care, that just gives me more time with the beautiful lady over here.”

   Beneath the table, Jaemin clenched his fists. He pulled an annoyed face, scowling at Baekhyun as he stood in an apparent fit of rage. “Go ahead,” he spat, “not like she’s anything to enjoy.”

  For the first time that night, you didn’t have to pretend or fake an expression. You glared at Jaemin for the jab, but he didn’t seem to care -- that or he hadn’t noticed. You watched as Jaemin ‘angrily’ stormed off, brushing past a familiar male as he disappeared behind the doors and down the hall.

  You felt somewhat safer, despite the handgun strapped to your leg, knowing Renjun was just outside. Your eyes surveyed the room. Jeno had to be close if Renjun was outside. Baekhyun turned to you with a sleazy smile. “Ready, princess?” he asked, the sure tone he spoke in itself irritating you.

  Not trusting your own mouth, you hummed in response. His friends whistled lowly when you raised to follow him out. You glanced over your shoulder at once, almost instantly making them whistle louder. Damn idiots, you thought to yourself with the roll of your eyes, they know no common decency. Baekhyun didn’t heed to his friends’ whistles and calls, keeping his head straight as he confidently made his way to the door.

  He only stopped once to turn when he reached the door. Opening the door for you, the only gentlemanly act he had performed thus far, you didn’t miss the way he eyed you up as you walked passed him. He guided you in silence, walking slowly as if to relish the moment.

  As if.

  Once you entered the elevator, he sent you another sly grin before pressing the button to the top floor. Of course he has to be staying on the most luxurious floor within the vicinity, you thought, biting your tongue. Baekhyun turned to you, backing you up into the far wall of the elevator. You could see your reflection due to the sheer shininess of the elevator, the image of Baekhyun practically pressed up against you making you sick to your stomach.

  If you didn’t know what he had done in the past, you would’ve found him attractive, you had to admit. Anyone with working eyes could see that Byun Baekhyun wasn’t awful to look at, not at all. Quite the contrary, if you were being honest. But, as you looked right into his shitty brown eyes, all you could see was blood. The blood that had stained his cheeks as he stood above his victim, the very victim he had murdered in cold blood. It disgusted you completely.

  “So,” Baekhyun drawled, “what’s a girl like you--” he dragged a finger across your cheek, lifting your chin up by his forefinger, practically forcing you to look him in the eyes. “--doing with a guy like Kim Hansol?” He leant in, his hot breath fanning across your face. You didn’t move away in fear of exposing yourself, but you didn’t dare lean any closer.

  You quickly thought of an answer, tilting your head and licking your slightly chapped lips. Baekhyun’s eyes seemed to follow the movement without hesitation, without shame. “Oh, you know,” you murmured vaguely, “Hansol, he’s a very successful man.” Baekhyun let out a breath, the corners of his lips curling in amusement. “And that success, it comes with many rewards.”

  “Does it now?”

  When he leaned in closer, completely pinning you against the wall, you held your breath. Fortunately for you, the elevator came to a stop and dinged as its doors opened. You smiled innocently, pulling his hands off of your waist before gently pushing him off of you with a single hand. You hoped your actions were enticing as you strutted into the hotel room. You had to stop yourself from staring-- the room itself was almost bigger than your house’s entire first floor.

  Baekhyun came up behind you, his lips hovering over your right ear as his hands rested on your waist. “How’d you want to go about this, princess?” You nearly scoffed. You could tell from his tone of voice that he didn’t truly care about what you wanted. He just wanted exactly what he brought you up there for. A night of fun and a morning of regret.

  Not voicing your thoughts, you merely hummed. “Surprise me.”

  He chuckled deeply, the sound making you shiver from his proximity. He slowly began to trail slow kisses down your neck whilst simultaneously pushing you closer and closer to the gigantic bed. Your hands hovered over the straps of your dress, subtly pushing against the button hidden within the decorative flowers that bloomed across your left shoulder. A beep sounded from your in-ear, a beep only you could hear. You continued on as if you hadn’t done anything, jumping when his hand met the small of your back.

  “What’cha doing there, hm?”

  Without warning, Baekhyun turned you around and violently shoved you onto the bed, your calf hitting against the foot of the bed painfully. You would’ve winced if not for the murderous glare Baekhyun had fixed on you. “What did you just do?” he asked, his voice like a foghorn. “You did something there, something with those flowers. What did you do?”

  You didn’t say anything, analyzing your options. It appears that you hadn’t analyzed fast enough, as Baekhyun reached into his blazer, presumably for a weapon. He was too slow for your reaction speed-- your heeled foot coming in contact with his groan almost instantly. He groaned and fell to the side of the bed, to which you pinned him down and pulled out your hidden pistol, digging the cold, metal barrel into his forehead.

  Baekhyun’s eyes were wide for only a moment. Unexpectedly, he began to laugh. You narrowed your eyes, pressing the gun harder into his skull. He winced but you didn’t hold back, applying the same pressure through and through. “Where are the documents?” you hissed, roughly holding his wrists down. He hadn’t even tried to escape, not a single ounce of struggle came from his end. He merely stared up at you with curious eyes.

  When he didn’t answer, you felt your patience running thin. “Where, Byun? Where are the documents you stole?”

  He didn’t answer once again.

  You waited a few more seconds, watching as invisible cogs turned within the chambers of his skull, whirring and brushing against each other. Suddenly, he grinned the same sickening grin you had first seen him with.

  You had trained under NCT for almost ten years but no amount of harsh training would prepare you for what he said next.

  “You’re [Y/N], aren’t you?” he asked, freely expressing his cruel mirth. “Chanyeol talks loads about you, you know.”

  Your eyes widened at his confession, your heart racing beyond control. Anger blinded you, your vision turning red as you stared at the man before you. Your back hunched as your grip on the pistol loosened, your arm moving back slightly. There was a red, circular mark on Baekhyun’s forehead, but that was the least of either of your worries. Baekhyun grinned a slow, bored grin, as if to taunt you, as if he hadn’t felt any fear looking straight into the barrel of your gun. Maybe he hadn’t. And that possibility scared you to no end.

  He made a noise of recognition. “I am correct then, I presume. I hate to meet under such,” he paused, “tense circumstances, [Y/N].”

  You felt angry tears well in your eyes, your emotions getting the better of you. “Fuck you,” you whispered angrily, your voice giving out on you as it quivered. Baekhyun’s foul grin widened, as if he found immense pleasure in your suffering. You glared, angry at yourself and Baekhyun as you watched a single tear fall and land on the satin green blanket, barely missing Baekhyun’s face. “Don’t talk as if we’re going to be buddy-buddy after this. Answer me, dammit-- where are the documents?”   Baekhyun leant forward, into the barrel of your gun. With no expression whatsoever, he muttered an answer. “As if I’d tell you.”

  Before you could even blink, the tables had turned. Baekhyun had you pinned to the bed, just as he had been before, and now your gun was sliding across the room-- his arm still outstretched from when he had slapped the weapon away. His free hand, the one that wasn’t holding you down by your throat, reached into his blazer, pulling out a single wharncliffe knife. You silently cursed, clawing at his hand as he brought the knife to your cheek. He was stronger than he looked. You kicked your legs again, only for Baekhyun to kneel on them. His weight brought pain to your body, your nose scrunching up as you winced. You were lucky enough that he wasn’t choking you, but with minimal pressure he could easily do it.

  “How does it feel, princess?” You narrowed your watering eyes at him, the nickname sounding even more vile coming from him than it had moments before. “Being pinned down like this. Not fun, is it?”

  You glared at him harshly, his mocking tone making you angrier and angrier by the second.

  As Baekhyun slowly dug the knife into your fragile skin, the feeling of hot blood dripping down your cheek searingly obvious, he leant closer. “He never spoke well of you,” he revealed. You tensed, knowing exactly who he was talking about. “Always ‘[Y/N] this,’ ‘[Y/N] that’. For someone who claimed to hate you, he sure talked about you so damn much.” With his last word, he moved to your other cheek, tracing a line down your cheekbone, definitely leaving a trail of your own blood. Your face burned from the cut, but that wasn’t your utmost worry at the moment.

  You had to worry about surviving first.

  Baekhyun continued, slowly pressing the blade down, drawing beads of blood once again. “He talked a lot about the younger one too.” You tensed, your eyes widened. It was as if you saw red, your fists clenching around his wrist as you valiantly tried to pull his hand away from your throat one last time.

  Suddenly, the door slammed open, making both you and Baekhyun dart your eyes in the direction of the loud noise. Before either of you could react, a shot was made and Baekhyun was cursing in pain. You took the moment to shove him off of you, quickly moving to grab your handgun. You glanced back at Baekhyun, staring at the wound in his hand. The now bloody knife had been dropped beside your head, easily staining the satin material.

  You looked back at your saviour, raising a brow. Jeno grinned sheepishly, his arms still outstretched as he aimed at Baekhyun. “A minute earlier would’ve been nice,” you told him. Jeno merely rolled his eyes, pulling out a pair of handcuffs he had hidden in his pockets. You stood near the door, ripping a piece of your dress off to use as a cloth to press against your wounds, watching as Jeno cuffed the groaning man.   You followed Jeno down the elevator, keeping your distance from Baekhyun. Jeno looked at you with concern, but you just waved him off. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been cut on a mission, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last in your line of work. When you reached the lobby, several cars were parked outside, both NCT owned and vehicles owned by the police. You saw Taeyong standing in the doorway, talking to an officer. Upon yours and Jeno’s arrival, a few people looked up, including Jaemin.

  After looking at the crimson stained cloth you were pressing to your face, along with your ripped dress, Jaemin frowned. He made his way over, nodding at Jeno’s reaction as he passed. Looking over Jaemin’s shoulder, you watched as a few of Baekhyun’s friends, two of which you recognized as Jongdae and Kyungsoo, got pushed head down into the numerous NCT vehicles.

  Turning your attention to Jaemin, you took off the uncomfortable wig, messing with your hair until you were okay with it. Jaemin took no time for pleasantries, talking quickly as he carefully moved your hand, the one that held the bloody cloth, to examine your wound. “We saw what happened,” he mumbled. “Renjun and I had to stay down here to watch Dumb and Dumber. Sorry Jeno couldn’t have made it in time to prevent this.”

  You raised a brow at his suddenly caring nature. Jaemin noticed your gobsmacked expression and was quick to take a tentative step back. “Come on,” he said under his breath, as if he were afraid to raise it to normal volume. “We’ll have a medic patch you up on the way to the airport. We’re heading back to HQ.”

 Simply nodding, you followed Jaemin out the door. As one of NCT’s paramedics, Yukhei, as you had learned, stitched up your cheek -- only one side needed stitches as the other wasn’t as deep -- you couldn’t help but get lost in your thoughts as you stared off out the window. Baekhyun’s words kept echoing in your mind, each echo torturing you slowly.

  “Chanyeol talks loads about you, you know.”

  Back at HQ, it was obvious how much of a bad mood you were in. You had ignored Chenle, Donghyuck, and Mark as they greeted you happily at the door, instead storming straight past them and into the interrogation room. Once the boys noticed your bloody and stitched up appearance, a wave of worry washed over each of them. Before they could even ask what had happened, you had already slammed the interrogation room’s door closed. Shortly after, Jaemin followed -- though, much more calmly -- ignoring the glares he received from the trio.

  When he entered, you were watching behind the one-way mirror with crossed arms as Taeyong coldly talked to the first suspect at hand, Kyungsoo. He watched you more than he had watched the interrogation, paying attention to the way you tapped your foot impatiently and the way you bit your lip every time the suspect spoke.   As the next suspect was sent in, with Kyungsoo having revealed diddly-squat, you appeared to become more tense. “Relax,” Jaemin sighed, taking his eyes off of you and onto the suspect. You looked over at him curiously, silently asking him what he had meant by that. “If you want to be of use to this, then you’re going to have to be more level headed.” His voice was cold, straight to the point. You blinked, nearly retaliating before you huffed. He was right. You were no use to the mission if you were just going to be pissed off the entire time

  For now, you would listen. For now, you’d stay level headed just like he said.

  “So,” you heard Taeyong’s slightly muffled voice begin as he pulled out the same manila folders he had shown the past suspect. “You know why you’re here?” Jongdae stayed quiet, fiddling with his fingers, his handcuffs rattling quietly as he did so. “You’re a main suspect in the theft of important documents and you’ll be sentenced to life without parole for the murder of both Lee Eunsung and Park Minjun.”

  You looked down at your shoes.

  Jongdae noticeably tensed upon hearing the words life without parole. Jaemin swiped his tongue over his dry lips, heaving a tired sigh. Jongdae obviously cared more about the sentence than Kyungsoo did, as Taeyong had told the exact same thing to him beforehand. “The only way to lessen your sentence is if you confess to both the murders and tell us where you hid the documents. Simple as that.”  

   The interrogation room was silent for a long while. Jongdae seemed to be weighing his options, with Taeyong calmly sipping his coffee as he sat back in his chair. Your fingers tapped against the desk beside you anxiously as you awaited a reply.

   Jaemin was quick to press his hand on top of yours, stopping your tapping effectively. You glanced over, but he was already looking ahead with his hands to his sides. You shook your head, exhaustion getting to you as you struggled to focus your vision. When you did, Jongdae was hunched over and breathing heavily. Taeyong took no action, downing the rest of his coffee in one go. You always wondered how he did that without scalding his entire mouth.

  “It’s your choice, Kim. Confess or rot in jail.”

  It only took a minute for Jongdae to make up his mind. “Okay, okay!” he exclaimed, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple. It was obvious he didn’t want to spend his time in jail, not all of it anyway. He either really treasured his time or there was something or someone wanting him to stay out of jail. “Yes, okay? A few years ago, we killed Lee Eunsung because he found out about us and he was going to rat us out. Our leader suggested we kill him to silence him, so we did.” Jongdae looked down for a moment, ashamed. “Park Minjun found us not too long after that and was going to do the same. In a panic, I shot him in the chest.”   You bit your lip almost painfully, your fists clenching. You glanced over to Jaemin, who remained as stoic as ever. You took in a deep breath-- level headed, [Y/N]. It wasn’t long before Jongdae continued, giving in to Taeyong’s words. “Baekhyun and I, we stole the documents. Kyungsoo, he was just our getaway driver, he didn’t even know what we were here for.”

  “Where are the documents, Kim?”

  This time, Jongdae stayed silent. He looked conflicted, confused even. “I’m not sure,” he mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows together. “Our leader took them and he didn’t tell us what he was going to do with them.”

  Taeyong hummed, sounding almost bored. “Your leader? Kim Junmyeon?” he questioned. Jongdae just shook his head, avoiding eye contact. You narrowed your eyes. Junmyeon was no longer EXO’s leader? If not him, then who? Your mind raced with all possibilities.

  “Do you think they’ve split up?” you asked Jaemin. “EXO, anyway. Three of their members got caught, the other nine just vanished without a trace-- until now. It’s possible that there was some sort of division between then and now.”

  He didn’t answer, but it was clear he agreed once he nodded.  

  “Who is your leader now?” Taeyong asked, his voice monotonous yet terrifying. After working within that interrogation room for years on end, watching Taeyong interrogate each criminal you brought in, you had gotten used to the ice cold tone he spoke with, but it wasn’t unusual for your co-workers to flinch if they were to ever enter in the midst of an interrogation.

  “He’d have my head if he found out I told you.”

  “As if he wouldn’t have your head if he finds out you’ve told us this much.”

  Jogndae’s frown deepened.

  “I’m waiting.”

  You bit your lip nervously, subconsciously stepping closer to the window. Your heart began to race once Jongdae started to mouth his boss’s name, your ears straining to hear the very name as clearly as possible. Beside you, Jaemin was in a similar position, though he kept his spot against the wall. His eyebrows were knit together in a ‘v’ as he watched intently.

  “Park,” he sputtered, “Park Chanyeol.”

  Jaemin called your name, following you as you darted down the hall. You ignored his calls, your breathing heavy as you disappeared down each staircase. You made your way to Chenle and Donghyuck’s conjoined computer room, a space they had offered to you for whenever you weren’t feeling right in the head. Jaemin’s calls turned into white noise as your mind filled itself to the brim with thought after thought.

  Park Chanyeol’s their leader. Of course it was Park fucking Chanyeol.

  Before you could even touch the room’s doorknob, someone had grasped your wrist. You looked up, not surprised to see Jaemin standing before you. You tried to wrench your wrist out of his grasp, but Jaemin moved in a way that had trapped you between the wall and himself. It had reminded you of what Baekhyun had done, however you didn’t find Jaemin nearly as revolting.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked bluntly. You scoffed and tried to move away again, only for Jaemin to slam his hand on the empty wall beside your head. “You just bolted at the mention of that guy’s name.”

  You ducked under his arm, forcefully pulling your wrist away from his grasp. “It’s nothing, Jaemin. Just leave it alone.”

  Before either of you could utter even the first syllable of a word, your phone went off. You pulled it out, blinking in confusion. You had gotten a message from your younger brother. Odd, considering he practically never messaged you. You barely glanced at Jaemin before opening the message, only to nearly drop the phone.

  Worry filled your entire being as you stared at the message with wavering eyes. “No, no,” you whispered to yourself, zooming in on the picture to make sure you weren’t just imagining things. No. It was clear what the photo was-- clear as day. You didn’t notice Jaemin curiously watching you, too absorbed in the image on your phone.

  “What’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

  You didn’t bother to say anything, instead thrusting the phone in his face. He stumbled back a bit, but once he stabilized himself he leant toward your phone. “That’s my brother sleeping,” you said, your voice soft and shaky. “And that,” you zoomed in, “is a shadow of a man with a gun.”

previous ⇠ | ⇢ next

[redvsvblue]

You know what, shoutout to @jeremwood​ because they told me to write this after I mentioned the idea. (Also because they’re chill and fun to talk to and great and everyone should go check out them and their work!) 

Here's a few alternate versions of a scene I wrote in Paint and Metal, but not specifically set in that universe, so interpret it in any AU you want. Continue on for Jeremwood and fluff.  

Version 1: 

Jeremy idly stirs his coffee while Ryan guesses, chin in his hand as he frowns down at the paper.

“D?” He asks. Jeremy pencils in a d at the end and Ryan perks up – he'd been on a solid streak of wrong letters, his man nearly completely hung.

“S?” And when Jeremy nods and fills that in, too - “Shower head!”

“Finally,” Jeremy teases, writing it in and then rolling the pencil over to Ryan.

“Why the fuck did you do 'shower head'?” Ryan asks while he's spinning the paper around, glancing up before sketching out a gallows.

“I dunno, man, I thought of a random word!” Jeremy says, laughing the fond shake of Ryan's head. Ryan scratches out his blanks and turns it back around to face Jeremy. Eight blanks.

“Uh...T?”

Ryan silently draws a head and writes down t in the box.

“S?”

Nope.

And that goes on for a minute, Jeremy working his way through c?, d?, m?, n?, a? to no avail and to Ryan's wry amusement. He glares at the paper and starts guessing all the eight letter words he can think of – Ryan laughs and shakes his head at all of them, munching on his second doughnut while Jeremy wracks his brain for useful letters.

He gets e with a loud whoop and a fistpump, then secures o and l but still has no fucking clue that even spells out. It looks like _lo_e_o_ and Jeremy's pretty sure he doesn't even know this word. This is what he gets for dating a smart fuck.

Jeremy starts just spitting out random letters, watching Ryan scribble in accessories for the hanged man – a balloon in one hand, cowboy boots – and trying to fit the new discovery of ilo_e_ou into a word, but oddly enough even when the man is long hanged Ryan's still keeping the game going.

“I don't fuckin' know,” Jeremy says, “I don't fuckin' know.”

“No, you can do it,” Ryan says with a gentle smile, and Jeremy looks despairingly at the overflowing box filled with nearly the entire alphabet and the stupid, taunting blanks.

Jeremy sighs and leans back in his chair, looking up at the sky as he literally just guesses every letter he can think of that he's not certain he hasn't already tried. He gets all the way to z and sucks in a breath to start again but then Ryan speaks.

“You got it,” he says, and Jeremy hisses a triumphant yes even though he went through the whole alphabet for it and leans forward to look at the word.

“Okay, how the fuck is that even a word?!” He exclaims, squinting at the iloveyou and testing it out on his tongue - “il-oveyo-uh?”, “eelov-ey-ouh?” - and halfway through his fifth dumb attempt he pauses. Realises that iloveyou can separate into -

Ryan nervously glances up at him, his fingers trembling ever so slightly on the pencil.

“Oh,” Jeremy breathes. “Oh.”

Just as Ryan starts sliding the paper back Jeremy stops him with a hand over his.

“I love you,” he says slowly, quietly - almost too quietly - and Ryan's breath rushes out of him in a shaky little exhale, a relieved smile breaking over his face and Jeremy scoots his chair closer, leans in to kiss him and murmur it against his lips to feel Ryan's small, pleased laugh bubble up between them.

Jeremy's coffee goes cold but Ryan's grin is warm and bright and Jeremy makes a silent promise to himself to keep that smile there for as long as he can.  

-- 

Version 2A: 

Jeremy scratches down blanks for Australia and Ryan gets it in four guesses with only one letter wrong – he chuckles at Jeremy's grumbling and Jeremy steals his doughnut out of spite, stuffing half of it into his mouth as Ryan sets up his word. Or, words – when he twirls the paper back around there's spaces between the blanks.

“A?” Jeremy asks through a mouthful of dough – Ryan shuts his jaw with a finger and writes an a in the box, draws a head. Jeremy swallows and chases the sweet mouthful with hot coffee, wiping crumbs from his lips and looking down at the paper.

“E?”

An e goes in the fifth space.

“I?”

Ryan shoots him a glare and puts i in first space.

“O?”

“Jeremy.”

“Okay, okay,” Jeremy chuckles, scratching his cheek. “Not O – uh, S?”

That goes in the box and Ryan sips his drink while Jeremy frowns at the blanks.

“M?”

Straight to the box and the man gains an arm.

“L?”

Second space, and Jeremy squints suspiciously at the i l _ _ e _ _ _. There's no way -

“O?” His voice pitches almost painfully high at the end and Ryan laughs, puts in an o.

Jeremy blinks down at i lo_e _ o _ and chuckles when he sees it, glancing up at a pink-cheeked Ryan. Instead of ending it, though, he keeps guessing.

“Y?”

Ryan grins knowingly and puts it down.

“U?”

i lo_e you.

“V?”

Ryan writes in the last letter and Jeremy slaps a triumphant hand on the table. 

“I love you!” he exclaims proudly, and then locks eyes with Ryan and repeats it, softer.

“I love you.”

Ryan bites his lip and Jeremy leans over the hangman to kiss him sweetly, inching his hand over to rest it atop Ryan's. He squeezes Ryan's hand and Ryan sighs the words back to him, seals them with another sugary kiss.

Jeremy steals another doughnut when he pulls back again.

-- 

Version 2B: 

Jeremy sticks his tongue out at Ryan's knowing, smugly innocent “K?” and scrawls it down to complete Mortal Kombat.

“That's not a common noun,” Ryan says as he takes the paper. “You're cheating, Dooley.”

“Eh, go fuck yourself,” Jeremy replies cheerfully, scooping up the last of his panini and folding it into his mouth. Ryan laughs and jots down his words, begins the gallows before spinning it back around to face Jeremy.

Now, knowing Ryan, he's got something up his sleeve to get Jeremy back for Mortal Kombat, so Jeremy swallows his mouthful, takes a hard look at the one-four-three blank pattern on the paper, wonders what odd phrase Ryan's come up with now.

“What the fuck,” he deadpans, laughs brightly at Ryan's little giggle. “Where do I even – this definitely isn't a fuckin' – common noun or whatever.”

“Take a guess,” Ryan chirps, tapping the pencil against the knuckles of his other hand.

“Is it 'I love you'?” Jeremy jokes, grinning wide as he drags his cup over but Ryan goes silent, the pencil stopped in its swing.

Jeremy looks up at Ryan and Ryan's eyes nervously dart away, his mouth tightening the longer the silence goes on and oh, shit, he meant it. He meant it and Jeremy's speechless at the surprise – a happy surprise, the best one Jeremy could have ever asked for, but he's gone stupid with shock and Ryan's mouth downturns and Jeremy speaks quickly before it can drop into a frown.

“I love you, too,” he blurts out, blushing when Ryan's eyes snap up to him. “Ryan, I – yeah.”

“Yeah?” Ryan asks with a raised eyebrow, although his teasing little smile is back.

“Yeah,” Jeremy says, and suddenly rises a bit so he can scoot his chair over, pressing his shoulder to Ryan's and a kiss to his cheek – Ryan flushes endearingly and Jeremy drags the paper over to them, glancing down at the blanks. He plucks the pen from Ryan's still fingers and scribbles in the letters, spelling out I love you and adding a too just to hear Ryan's huff of laughter.

“You ruined it,” Ryan grumbles as he dips down to catch Jeremy's lips. Jeremy would argue that it's not ruined at all but he's a little busy right now.

“Cheater,” Ryan scolds fondly. Jeremy grins and doesn't deny it.

“But you know one thing I won't cheat on?” He asks, and Ryan sighs before Jeremy can even say the follow-up. “You.”

“You're terrible,” Ryan mumbles, but he can't seem to break away from Jeremy's lips for too long.

“You love me.”

“Yeah – Yeah, I really do.”

[jjkfire]

Wrapped Around; pt.4

Jimin x Reader x Tae // College!AU // 9.7k words

Summary: Freshman year was a mess and sophomore year doesn’t seem to be looking too good either. You know boys like them are no good for you but maybe they’re just your kind of type

Genre: Fluff, Angst

A/N: ha ha ha. I’m so horrible at updating wtf but here ya go guys, part 4! sorry for the wait! (p.s: there was a part 3.5!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 2.5 | Part 3 | Part 3.5

Previously...

As your cousin speeds forward, closer to his house, you can’t help but laugh to yourself. You were mixed with equal parts of dread and excitement, longing to wind down the window to shout out their names but at the same time wanting to hide away, hoping that you wouldn’t run into them at all. What a turn of events. Looks like it was going to be a fairly interesting winter break after all.

Standing in the aisle of the supermarket, you glance at the list in your hand then back at the rows and rows of a variety of canned beans. Who knew there'd be this many type of beans? You casually strolled down the aisle, your eyes kept peeled for the one that said garbanzo beans, whatever that meant. 

A short bell rings signaling the arrival of new customers but you're oblivious to the sound as you continue searching for the can of beans. You hear a loud smack accompanied by a short scream and you spin around, curious as to what the ruckus was about.

"What the hell, Jimin?! That hurt!"

Shit.

You recognise that voice and you definitely recognise that name. Maybe your mind was playing tricks on you because what were the odds of meeting them in a supermarket of all places? Maybe that wasn't Taehyung's voice and perhaps there could be another Jimin in this town... Jimin is a common name after all, you reason. You exhale deeply, returning your attention to the cans in front of you, you finally find the can of garbanzo beans and put it into the basket that was dangling off your arm.

"Not so nice having a taste of your own medicine huh Tae?"

Tae.

Maybe... Maybe there was another Tae in this town too?

Light laughter fills the air and you stiffen up because that distinct laugh definitely belongs to the Jimin that you knew.

Your mind is in a frenzy as you let the fact that you were mere metres away from them sink in. You turn on your heel abruptly, speed walking down the aisle away from the boys. 

You had been in town for a few days now and you still hadn't reached out to any of them. Hoseok was upset with you for not taking care of him at the bar apparently, leaving you a message on Facebook which you were pretty sure was meant to be taken as a joke but with text you're never really sure. Taehyung had been obviously mad at you based on the way he glared at you as you left his apartment. You clearly remember the anger behind his voice as he warned you about Jimin. And Jimin, well... You guess that one was self-explanatory. His absence when you had woken up that day clearly told you that he didn't want anything to do with you anymore.

You run down the remainder of the aisle and quickly run three rows over. Rounding the corner, you glance back to make sure that they were nowhere in sight.

Oof. 

A man let's out a light yelp as you run straight into his chest, all of his belongings goes flying out of his hand and onto the ground.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," You exclaim as you quickly crouch down to grab the bag of chips that were previously in his hands. "I wasn't looking where I was going and--"

The young man laughs and crouches down to pick up the rest of his belongings "It's fi— Y/N?"

Fuck.

"Hoseok," You smile awkwardly as you stood up, unsure of what else to say. 

"What are you doing here?"

"Uh... Surprise?"

After getting over the initial shock, he laughs boisterously as his hand comes around to trap you in a headlock.

"Guys! Tae, Jimin, get over here!" He shouts out and you shush him when other shoppers send confused looks your way. "You won't believe what I just found!"

You squirm around his hold, wanting nothing more than to run away right now. Why you had chosen to run further into the supermarket when you could've left instead, you'll never know.

"Hoseok, let me go!" You groan as you scuffle with him and he only laughs, watching as you tried with all your might to slip out of his hold.

The sound of shoes squeaking hurriedly against the tiles makes your heartbeat speed up and you frantically beg Hoseok to release you but he only tightens his arm around you. You hear Jimin and Taehyung's voice grow louder as they approach the two of you and without warning, Hoseok releases you, causing you to stumble forward. You catch yourself, using the edge of the shelf to stabilise yourself and you turn around to throw Hoseok a dirty look to which he only replies with an evil smile.

"Holy shit, Y/N... what are you doing here?" Taehyung asks.

You glance up and you almost laugh at the expression on both Jimin and Taehyung's face.

"Shopping," You shrug as you held up your grocery list.

Jimin stands there still in shock at the sight of you. A million and one questions float around his mind but he can't seem to get his mouth to move.

"Didn't you say you were going home?" Taehyung asks. "I think you're a little lost because you're hours away from home," He laughs.

"It’s complicated," You sigh. "Long story short, my parents are away and I'm staying with my aunt who lives here for the rest of winter break."

"Did your dad get called out to the rig?"

You nod, a frown settling on your face. You're surprised he remembers that about your dad. It had been freshman year, the week after spring break when you had ranted to Taehyung about how much you didn't like that your dad would have to go out to the rig for months at a time, his job stealing precious time that you got to spend with him.

"And your mum? Sent on another company trip?"

You nod again, exhaling deeply as you did so. Huh, you had thought Taehyung wasn't paying attention when you expressed your disdain that one time about how your mum was always travelling for the company. You worried that your mum was spreading herself too thin like she often does.

Jimin stands there with his jaw clenched, slightly irked by the fact that Taehyung knew so much about you. Despite the numerous nights where you talked about your troubles, why did it seem like he didn't know the slightest thing about you? Damn it, Taehyung was always one step ahead of him and he hated that.

"How long have you been in town?"

"Uh, 2 days?" That’s a lie, it was more like 5.

"And you didn't think to let us know?" Hoseok cuts in.

"I-I didn't know this was the town you guys lived in..."

"Bullshit, Y/N," Hoseok scoffs.

"And, my phone's broken!" You quickly add, holding up your phone with its screen that had been smashed to smithereens. "So, how was I supposed to let you guys know I was here?"

So that's why you hadn't been replying to his texts, Jimin thinks.

"I don't know Y/N, there's always Facebook?"

Right... That was true...

"I... I just, I..." You stumble over your words, unable to defend yourself because it was true... You're sure there would've been many ways for you to let them know you were in town but you were too busy trying to avoid them.

Jimin spots the quick rise and fall of your chest and he can already tell your heart must be beating rapidly against your ribcage. All your tell-tale signs of anxiety were beginning to show and your mind begins to blank. Your eyes shift around, your hands beginning to feel clammy as you beg your body to calm down, to let your mind form a sentence.

"Chill, nerd," Jimin laughs. "We're glad you're here. Surprised, but glad," He smiles as he stalks over to put an arm across your shoulder. 

Hoseok and Taehyung reluctantly join your side and you let out a sigh of relief. Had Jimin not defused the situation, you're not sure how the rest of the conversation would have played out. Your mind wasn't cooperating and honestly there was no excuse for not reaching out to them other than the fact that you thought they didn't want to see you which in hindsight seemed ridiculous. 

Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice when Hoseok plucks the grocery list out of your hand to go through it and you hear him stifle a laugh. 

"Why are you in this aisle anyway? Pretty sure nothing on your list is here," Hoseok giggles and you snatch the list from him, a snarky comment already on the tip of your tongue.

"Ah, I'm sure nerd here was looking for this, weren't you?" Jimin interrupts as he grabs a box of condoms of the shelf. He smirks and winks at you as he places it in your basket. An older woman browsing the shelf opposite you sends disapproving looks your way and you groan internally out of embarrassment.

"Jimin!" You exclaim in a hushed voice, quickly removing the box from your basket.

In your haste to place the box back onto the shelf you end up knocking down at least 10 others and a blush starts to creep up onto your face as the boys fall into fits of laughter. Peering over your shoulder, you catch onlookers glare at you and you place the boxes back in a hurry. 

"Y/N, didn't you say you wanted to get some lube with that?" Taehyung asks loud enough for everyone two rows down to hear, his laugh at the end of his sentence only drawing more attention.

At this point, the old woman lets out a gasp and you open your mouth to try and begin to explain the situation but you decide against it, choosing instead to run away. Quickly, you storm down the aisle as the three of them chase you, still howling with laughter.

When you reach the next aisle you turn back to face the boys with your fists clenched, your face still feeling heated from embarrassment. 

"This is why I didn't let you guys know I was in town," You scowl.

"Aw nerd, it was just a joke," Jimin laughs. 

"It wasn't funny," You frown and Jimin approaches to sling his arm over your shoulder again but you shrug it off and return your attention to your grocery list.

With muffled laughs they follow you around the supermarket, guiding you through the aisles and silently adding the things on your list into your basket while you continue to ignore them.

After paying your bill, you watched as the boys put their purchases into bags. Chips, red solo cups, bottles and bottles of chasers. That could only mean one thing… so you relent, finally deciding to break the silence.

"You guys having a party or something?"

"Oh? She speaks!" Hoseok exclaims as he taps the other boys on their shoulders.

They abandon the bags and lean closer towards you give to you their undivided attention, their hands cupping their ears just to hear everything you had to say. You laugh lightly before scowling at them and shoving them away, the smile on their faces making it impossible for you to stay mad.

"Yeah, we’re having a party. Jimin's parents are away for the weekend so we're going to thrash his place," Tae smiles as Jimin rolls his eyes. "You should come!" He encourages, as the four of you begin walking out of the supermarket with bags in hand.

You hesitate a little because you're not too sure where you stood with Jimin anymore. Was he being nice earlier on because the guys were around? Would he feel uneasy if you were at the party? Did he want you to say no?

"Yeah! We'll have some tequila shots to officially welcome you to town," Jimin laughs and you nod along, the prospect of a party making you slightly excited after having to spend your break with old people and family. Maybe Jimin didn’t mind having you around…

“Shots, yes but tequila, no,” You answer with your nose scrunched as the memory of the last time you went overboard with tequila replayed in your head.

“So, shots yes and tequila shots, definitely!” Hoseok caroled as the three of them walk towards the bus stop. “We’ll send you the invite on Facebook, Ms. I broke my phone,” He continues sarcastically, the latter part of his sentence accompanied by air quotes, to which you frown at.

You watch the 3 of them disappear into the bus before turning around to head to the repair shop to finally get your phone fixed, thank god. How you survived without your phone for almost more than a week now is beyond you.

When you leave the house later that night for the party, your cousin chides a snide remark of wow, you have friends? To which you roll your eyes at and he only shouts out I’m just kidding! before you shut the door in his face. In the 5 days that you had been here, the only new friend you had made was your neighbor and according to her, half the girls in town were already pining for your cousin. Ah, so that’s why those girls at the local diner were sending you dirty looks when you were merely accompanying him because he had a hankering for a milkshake the other day.

Your neighbor, Mina basically goes berserk when she receives the notification of your invitation to the party, demanding an explanation. You keep the story short, saying that you met the boys at college and that you were all pretty good friends, or at least you like to think so. She asks you question after question, all about what Jimin is like in college and by this time, you had worked out she must’ve had a crush on him but boy, she goes on to tell you she’s been obsessed with him since high school and so you choose to skimp on the details when talking about Jimin’s college life.

The both of you get picked up by Mina’s friends and after the short introduction, Mina spends the rest of the short car ride droning on and on about how much she liked Jimin and you’re not sure if it’s because of the caffeine you consumed earlier or if it was the jealousy bubbling within you but the more she talked about him, the more your hands twitched beside you. Jealousy? Nah. It’s definitely the caffeine, you tell yourself but in the end, even you’re left unconvinced.

Stepping past the front door, you feel like you’ve instantly been transported back to campus and that this was just any other weekend back at college but the unfamiliar faces tell you that you’re indeed somewhere else. You barely have 5 seconds to look around before Hoseok is dragging you to the drinks table, lining up the promised tequila shots that has you scrunching up your face in distaste. Somewhere between shot no.4 and no.5, Taehyung and Jimin show up and the four of you commence the downing of the remaining shots as strangers cheer you on. The beginning of a classic night.

At first you think you’re fine and that by some miracle you’re handling your drinks a lot better than usual but then all at once, you feel light-headed and your hearing turns slightly fuzzy. Between giggles, you notice Jimin’s hand hanging low on your waist and you try not to think too much about it, perhaps he too had a little too much to drink already or maybe it was just a friendly gesture.

“How’d you get here?” Jimin asks.

“Uh, I caught a ride with Mina and her friends.”

“Mina? You sure know how to pick your friends don’t you?” Hoseok smirks and you give him a quizzical look, unsure as to what that really meant.

“Jimin’s been crushing on Mina for years now,” Taehyung giggles. “Back in high school, she was all he would ever talk about.”

“Shut up,” Jimin blushes. “T-that’s all in the past now.”

“Sure,” Hoseok laughs. “It’s not like we all didn’t notice the drool at the corner of your mouth when she stepped into the house.”

“I said shut up!” Jimin growls as he lunges playfully at both of the boys with his free hand.

You pluck Jimin’s hand off your waist, choosing to rummage around the kitchen for some snacks but not before pouring yourself a heavy drink. You feel like you might need a few more of those if you had to hear both the names Mina and Jimin again in another sentence. God, why were you so on edge about something so irrelevant? Why did the thought of him with someone else get you all riled up?

Consuming two or more types of liquor throughout the night was always a bad choice and somehow you always make that stupid decision anyway. After a drink too many you become a lot friendlier, way too friendly if you ask Jimin. He watches you sidle up to one too many boys, leaving playful pats on their chests, throwing back your head in laughter at their horrible jokes. Did that night you had with him really mean nothing at all to you? Was he alone in thinking that perhaps somewhere along that night, that the both of you clicked, that the both of you had an odd warm sensation stirring in your chest as you laid in each other’s arms? Well, apparently so because you seemed to be doing just fine, teasing multiple boys with a provocative dance that Jimin wished was only meant for him.

Midnight comes and goes and as you begin to sober up, you notice the only people left in the house are the 4 of you and some drunk strangers that Jimin quite literally has to push out of his house. Taehyung half drags Hoseok to his car and buckles him into the front passenger seat as he simultaneously curses at the snow pelting down from the sky. I’m so dead, he murmurs under his breath after remembering the promise he made to Hoseok parents, one where he swore he’d get Hoseok home before 3 and completely sober. At least he’ll be living up to one of those conditions, which he hopes is enough to get him off the hook.

Watching Taehyung’s car speed away, you slowly shrug your light jacket on and curse at the sky as you watch the snow blanket the street in front of you. You still didn’t know your way around town but you think you’d be able to make it home with google maps in under 30 minutes… if you didn’t get frostbite before you reached your home that is. Sigh, why did Mina leave without telling you?

“Are you seriously thinking I’m going to let you walk home in this weather?”

“Well how else am I supposed to get home?” You ask.

“Y-you could always stay…” Jimin shrugged, his hand nervously scratching at the back of his neck. “Plus, I think you’re a little too drunk to walk home even if it wasn’t snowing.”

True. You could barely make it two steps without stumbling and although you felt like it was wrong to stay, the pounding sensation in your head makes you disregard that feeling.

“Okay,” You mumble and Jimin grins at you as he shuts his front door. You dig around your pocket for your phone so you could send a quick text to your aunt. She’s probably asleep right now but better late than never right?

“You could go to my room or you can sit on the couch for a while,” He smiles. “I just have to clean up the house a little.”

You nod as you took a seat on the couch, concentrating hard on typing out the text you had to send. Your phone seemed to be floating around and the words on your screen barely visible to you. You type each letter carefully, hoping that you were spelling the words right but you had a feeling your aunt was going to know you were drunk out of your mind when she reads the text anyway.

Jimin must’ve left you on the couch for under 10 minutes but when he returns, he finds you passed out, phone resting on your chest with half a text typed out, most of it gibberish anyway. He plucks the phone out of your hand, retyping the text before hitting send. He glances at your face once more before he opens up the conversation between you and him and he lets out a sigh of relief when he finds it empty. Maybe there was a god after all. He’s sure you’d never let him live it down if you had actually gotten all the messages he had sent. He sighs as he brushed your hair away from your face, feeling a little flutter in his chest at the sight of you murmuring in your sleep. Jimin hooks his arms under your sleeping form to carry you bridal style up the stairs, a smile playing on his lips as he hears you mumble his name. He may or may not have been a little carried away staring at your face as he carried you up the stairs to notice the edge of the handrail sticking out, but even with a loud thunk!, you stay asleep, only letting out a soft whine after the impact.

Jimin places you down on his bed, pulling the blanket over you as you settled against his pillows. Quickly, he changes into his pajamas before jumping under the sheets himself, a little happy at the familiar sight of you and your messy hair and parted lips. Here in his queen-sized bed, he wondered if it was still alright to cuddle with you, after all it only happened in the dorms because the bed could barely fit two people. He wondered if you’d find it weird if you woke up and found both you and him huddled on one side of the bed when there was clearly enough space on the bed for the two of you to sleep on separate sides.

Admitting defeat, Jimin curls up on himself tugging the blanket closer towards his body as he turned away from you. A blast of cool air hits your side and you let out a whine as you scramble to get under the blanket, moving closer towards the middle while you pull the blanket back towards you. Feeling the blanket slip away, Jimin turns around to pull the blanket back to his side but with each tug he watches you squirm closer and closer towards the center of the bed, closer towards him. Jimin snickers to himself as you inch your way nearer to him in this silent one-sided game of tug of war. Technically, you were moving closer to him by your own volition… that way you can’t be mad at him if you wake up in his arms in the morning because it’s not his fault that you moved right into his arms… well, technically…

2, 3 more tugs and you’re less than an arm’s length away from him. Slowly, he slips his arm underneath you, letting his fingers curl around your waist before he cautiously pulls you just a little closer to him, doing so silently so you won’t be jolted awake. You let out an incoherent whine as you twist around in his hold before you place your head against his chest, your hand resting on his pectoral. Jimin couldn’t help but smile as you nuzzle your head against his chest, his thumb caressing the curve of your waist gently as he gazed down at you, a scene he had missed seeing.

It was embarrassing to admit but on nights where he found it tough to fall asleep, he’d imagine that you were there next to him in his bed, wrapped up in his arms like you usually were and somehow, he’d fall asleep soon enough. Now that you were physically in his arms again, he didn’t want to go to sleep just yet. There was an undeniable smile that he couldn’t wipe off his face and he just wanted to cherish the feeling of you against him again. After all, he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to hold you like this again. He was turning into a complete sap, he knew he was but he could give less of a damn because maybe he kind of liked the warm feeling he’d get in his chest whenever he saw you.

You wake up to a comforting sensation of a warm hand softly stroking your hair and it’s almost enough to put you back to sleep but the throbbing headache you have makes you groan in pain. Slowly, you roll on your back, yawning and stretching as you rubbed the sleep away from your eyes.

“Mornin’,” Jimin smiles, his voice a few tones deeper than usual and you gulp at the thought of how much you like the sound of his morning voice.

“Morning,” You cough, taking a shy glimpse of him and his tousled hair. “Thanks for letting me stay over and everything,” You whisper, averting your eyes to the corner of his room, anywhere but his stupid handsome face.

“It’s chill, nerd,” He laughs as he squeezes your waist lightly, the gesture making your heart flutter.

You quickly jump out of bed, excusing yourself to use the toilet because there he was making butterflies flutter in your stomach and that was something you couldn’t have happen. He was trouble and you knew that. You thought that the 2 weeks away from him had helped douse the growing feelings you had him but you were oh so wrong. A mere touch, a simple smile sent your mind on a whirlwind which was stupid because he’s just another player, someone not worth half of your thoughts but god was your heart stubborn.

When you exit his bathroom, he’s stripping off his shirt in exchange for another one which you think he did deliberately just to tease you. What an asshole. You bring your hand up to your eyes and gaze downwards to the floor, not wanting to stare.

“You know we have seen each other completely naked before right?” He laughs.

“Th-that was a different situation…” You answer, slowly peeking upwards to see if he was done changing.

You whisper a few more thank yous before stalking over to his door, pulling it open slowly to leave. You had barely taken a few steps before you’re suddenly running back to his room, shutting his door softly with a panicked look on your face.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin queries, obviously worried at the look on your face.

“Jimin, call the police!” You whisper-shout as you glance around the room hurriedly for any object you could use as a weapon. “There’s someone downstairs moving the furniture around and I think you’re being robb—“

You hear Jimin giggle before he doubles over in laughter, holding his stomach as he tries to catch a breath.

“Jimin, call the police! This isn’t a joke! I’m—“

“Why would I call the police on my mum?” He says between laughs and you slowly lower the baseball bat you had in your hand, a little confused.

“I thought you said your parents were away for the weekend?”

“Well, no, they were just going to be away for Friday and Saturday and somehow when Taehyung heard, he convinced me to hold the party,” He exhales.

“Okay, great but how am I supposed to leave now?”

“Through the front door?”

You roll your eyes at his sarcastic reply and he simply laughs in return.

“And let your mum think that I slept over?”

“Well, I mean you did so…”

“Yeah but your mum isn’t going to believe that,” You scoff. “She’s going to think we had sex or something.”

“Technically, we’ve done that too,” Jimin smirks.

“I don’t have time for your shit now, Jimin,” You groan. “Just let me borrow some of your Physics notes or something.”

“What, why?”

“I’ll just say I came over to borrow your notes.”

“You know that sounds just as unbelievable, right? Who studies over winter break? Nobody.”

“I do…” You mumble. You had been reviewing lecture slides your seniors had passed down to you just so you could be ahead when the semester started.

“Ah, I forgot I was talking to the no. 1 nerd on campus,” He snorts and you frown. What was so wrong with wanting to be ahead of the game?

“Whatever,” You exhale. “I just don’t want your mum’s first impression of me to be some mysterious girl who had slept over at her place while she was away.”

Jimin shuffles towards his study table and pulled his Physics notebook out of his backpack that had otherwise been left untouched before today. He hands you the book with a smirk on his face and you let out a sigh because you just knew he was dying to say something gross already. You lift your eyebrows as a silent form of what now?

“Trying to impress my mum, huh?” He questioned. “I think you need to slow down there nerd, this relationship we have is moving way too fast for me,” He says dramatically with exaggerated gestures.

He hears you mumble oh, fuck off under your breath but he simply giggles to himself as he leads you out of his bedroom door and down the stairs.

“Morning, mum!” Jimin greets and his mother turns around to smile at him before she turns to you with a quizzical look on her face.

“Morning! and oh, who’s this?”

“H-hello, Mrs. Park,” You smile nervously. “I’m Y/N,” You answer timidly.

“When did you get here? I didn’t even hear the front door open,” She laughs 

“Um, just a few minutes ago,” You lie.

“I must’ve been in the backyard then,” She smiles and you let out a silent sigh of relief.

She sees the book tucked in your hand and then suddenly a flicker of recognition flashes through her mind.

“Ah, Y/N was it? You’re that Y/N! Jimin has told me so much about you!” She squeals.

Huh? He told his mum about you? Oh and surprise, surprise, he actually does know your name.

Out of the corner of your eye you watch as Jimin’s smug expression turns into a worried one and he’s stuttering, telling his mum to stop.

“You know this is the first time in a long time that he’s gotten an A in anything and apparently, it was all thanks to you!”

You hear Jimin let out a groan as he keeps his gaze low, a slight blush tinting his cheeks.

“Ah, is that so?” You ask in return and she nods eagerly.

Funny. Jimin always said that he would be doing just fine in the class without your help.

“Anyway, it’s nice to finally put a face to a name,” She smiles at you and then she turns to Jimin. “Why didn’t you tell me she was this pretty?” She asks him in a hushed voice and Jimin’s cheeks turn bright red as he presses his lips into a taut line.

“Have you had breakfast?” Mrs. Park asks. “It’s not much but I have some toast and coffee if you like,” She beams at you.

You glance over at Jimin, his eyes wide almost like he was afraid of what else his mum would say if you stayed around. His panicked expression almost makes you want to say yes just so you could watch him writher in embarrassment.

“Oh no, that’s alright Mrs. Park. I’d love to stay for breakfast but I have somewhere else to be,” You politely decline and you swore you heard Jimin mutter thank god under his breath. “I just came over to borrow these notes from Jimin but thank you so much for the offer!”

“Aw, that’s a shame,” She frowns slightly. “But, it was nice meeting you, Y/N.”

“Likewise, Mrs. Park,” You smile before you move towards the front door. You turn back to wave goodbye and Mrs. Park offers a short wave while she encourages Jimin to do the same, to which he begrudgingly complies, his cheeks still a dusty pink.

You laugh to yourself at the sight of a flustered Jimin, a rare sight and a true treat for you. You wonder how he had turned out so different when his mum was quite literally the sweetest woman you had ever met. You should be more like Y/N and at least try to get some studying done over the break, you hear his mother say as she shuts the door. Yes, mother, Jimin answers dejectedly. Maybe you should pop in from time to time, you think. It would be worth it just to watch Jimin flounder around, hoping that his mother would stop embarrassing him.

It takes you just about 30 minutes to get home and you silently thank Jimin for convincing you to stay last night because you think you quite probably wouldn’t have made it far in last night’s weather. You trudged through the snow, your phone frequently shutting down because of the chilly winter temperature so you take random turns as you navigate the large neighborhood, hoping that you were going the right way. When you finally reach your aunt’s house, you dash to your temporary bedroom, diving under the covers, still shivering at the chill that seemed to settle in your bones.

At slightly past 1, both you and your cousin find yourselves at some quiet restaurant at the hub of the town for some lunch. Again, you find a few girls staring, whispering as they glanced over at the both of you and you roll your eyes at the sight.

“Seriously, why are all the girls here so obsessed with you?” You groan. “All I want is to have a meal in peace.”

“How are you so sure it’s me they’re talking about? Maybe it’s you because I mean I heard someone got some last night,” He smirks.

“Pfft, where did you hear that?” You scoff.

“Mina. She said she saw you grinding up against some guy and you didn’t come home so…”

Stupid tequila.

“Yeah whatever how does grinding equate to getting some? Anyway, Mina ditched my ass at the party last night which was why I had to stay over, which reminds me,” You trail off, turning your attention to your phone to send a series of texts to her.

“Yeah, anyway heard you were at Mr. Popular’s house last night, thanks for the invite.”

“Since you’re such the social butterfly, I thought you’d be able to score an invite yourself.”

“Or maybe you didn’t want me interrupting your sexy time with this Jumin guy.”

You scrunch your face up at his choice of words. Who even says sexy time anymore?

“Jimin”

“Yeah, same difference,” He answers as he stuffs a spoonful of his lunch into his mouth. You want to argue with him but really there was no point when it came to him.

“Jimin and I are just friends okay,” You huff. “Plus I think our friend Mina will pretty much rip me apart if I even lay a finger on him.”

“True that, girl is obsessed,” He breathes out. “Met her when I went for my jog the other day and she just wouldn’t stop talking about him. I really want to meet him so I can see what he’s all about.”

“Trust me, he’s really not all that,” You laugh.

The both of you continue on with your lunch and you add an exaggerated laugh here and there and a few jokingly flirtatious touches just to piss of the girls who won’t quit staring. You feel their eyes bore holes into the back of your head and your cousin tells you that you seemed to be enjoying all of this a little too much but he plays along anyway.

As per usual, the walk back home with your cousin is filled with constant bickering and playful punches but the both of you stop in your tracks when an old lady tells the both of you that you made such a cute couple and the two of you are hot on your heels to deny that fact, explaining that you were both cousins. When the lady walks out of earshot, the both of you gag at the thought of someone thinking that you two were a couple. Who in their right mind would think that?

You spend the next few days with 3 of your favourite boys, them dragging you around to all of their top spots and you admit that perhaps you had judged this town a little too quickly. Frankly, you would always love the city more but this town wasn’t too bad after all or maybe it was the company that made it feel like it wasn’t just some no name town with nothing to do.

Surprisingly enough, the 3 of them are decent company and you find yourself falling into a routine of grabbing lunch with them and then wasting your days with them be it at the arcade, movies or the occasional outdoor winter adventure, all of them filled with nothing but laughter. You notice Jimin staying close to your side, at first it was a fleeting touch or two but then sometimes at the movies he secretly intertwines his fingers with yours but you stay silent and unmoving. You’re not sure what it is, whether he’s just messing with you or it was genuine but you refuse to speak about it, afraid that it would ruin whatever it was that was going on between the two of you.

He takes it even further one day when both Taehyung and Hoseok left the movies early the other day. The two of you stood there contemplating if you should catch another movie or call it a day. The only movie worth watching was a romantic comedy which Jimin knew was your guilty pleasure so he puts up a show of disapproval before reluctantly agreeing but truthfully, he loved romantic comedies just as much as you did. You knew this was a recipe for disaster but hell, you couldn’t help yourself.

His hand finds yours mere seconds into the movie and you nibble on your bottom lip to hide the smile dancing on your lips but Jimin notices it anyway, unable to hide a smile of his own. At the crux of the movie, he finds he can’t wait any longer, that he’d been longing to do this ever since that day he had come back to your empty room. His thumb and index finger holds your chin ever so gently before he swoops in for a delicate kiss, your head spinning at the feeling of his plush lips on yours. His kisses are gentle and slow, his thumb always caressing the apple of your cheek and you could feel your heart bursting in your chest. For the first time, you finally understand why all those couples back in high school would get the seats at the very back and as you sat with your head against his shoulder, you wonder if the kiss was a spur of the moment type of thing or he had pre-planned everything, choosing these very seats for the sole purpose of having a make-out session with you. You were making mistake after mistake. Letting Jimin slowly win over your heart is only going to leave you broken and yearning for more but he was so charming, so goddamn irresistible.

Like everything that happens between you and Jimin, the both of you don’t talk about the kiss or the shared intimate gestures, the two of you forever playing the don’t ask, don’t tell game.  You never ask in fear of hearing the truth, that none of this real, that he wasn’t acting on his feelings but rather this was all a mere game to him. You never ask because at least this way you could pretend that just maybe Jimin had a crush on you. He never asks you because he’s afraid if he pushed you, you’d just clam up like you usually do. He’d rather be in limbo, stealing kisses and glances until maybe one day you’d drop a clear enough sign for him to decipher, one that told him you were ready to open yourself up to him. Till then, he’d rather be confused and slowly but surely falling in love with you.

The town’s annual winter ball was just a day away and you could feel the excitement building amongst the residents. It was all anyone would talk about and you’re not really sure what the significance of the ball is but you nod along pretending you were excited too even if you weren’t attending. Apparently in this town, it was customary for the women to ask the men to attend the ball with them and it was cute to see the sudden reversal of the traditional role. You witnessed dozens of cute proposals throughout the week and as the day grew closer, you wondered if you were supposed to join in, if you should ask someone to go with you. You’re not left wondering for long when you watch your friends getting snapped up left right and centre. You guess you should’ve known that they were hot property.

You were glad when you witness Hoseok’s proposal, a little bitter when you watched Taehyung’s but you were full on sulking as you watched Jimin’s.

Oh, Mina.

Go big or go home was this girl’s motto and go big, she did. You remember exiting the local diner with the 3 boys only to see the huge banner roll down the opposite building, her friends popping streamers as she walked out to greet Jimin and asked him to attend the ball with her, to which he said yes, ugh. It all felt very high school-esque and you wondered if you were all a little too old for this or maybe you were just a little jealous you had missed out on the opportunity to ask Jimin to go with you. Whatever, it was a stupid ball in a stupid town that you didn’t want to attend in the first place. Your cousin had already agreed on staying home with you, not wanting to attend an event that was held for the sole purpose of being able to show who’s who by wearing the fanciest clothes. Yeah, screw that, you didn’t need any of that.

Come the night of the winter ball, both you and your cousin lay down on opposite ends on the couch, surfing through the TV channels until you find something worth watching. Your aunt pops into the living room and lets out a shriek of surprise which jolts both you and your cousin, heads perking up in confusion.

“Why aren’t the both of you dressed up yet?!”

“Dressed up for what?” Your cousin questions.

“The ball!” She exclaims.

“We’re not going,” He answers, shrugging his shoulders.

“Like hell you aren’t,” She scoffs. “Look everyone’s going to be there so we have to go too. Everyone in town is going to be talking about the two of you if you both don’t show up.”

“But—“

She sends a death glare and the stern expression is enough for the both of you jump off the couch and scramble to your respective rooms.

In a hurry you put on the dress you had worn for new year’s, much too lazy to think of a new outfit and suddenly you’re glad that you belonged to a family of technological Neanderthals that never posted pictures online. You put on some simple make-up and just as you’re done, you hear your cousin screaming at you to hurry up. You run down the stairs and just as you reach the base you let out a laugh when you spot your cousin wearing the same outfit he had worn for new year’s too. Your aunt grumbles at the both of you, choosing to critique the lack of effort that went into both of your outfit choices. The two of you only shrug nonchalantly because you both simply could give less of a damn about this event anyway.

When you arrive at the entrance of the hall, your cousin holds out his elboe for you to wrap your arm around and you begrudgingly accept it.

“I hate this night already,” He sighs.

“Blame your mother.”

He groans and rests his head on your shoulder. You shrug him off you, laughing as you did so.

“Careful there cousin, a little too close and someone might start spreading rumours of incest.”

“Christ, I hate small town gossip,” He groans.

Both you and your cousin crossed the room to where the buffet was laid out, quickly grabbing plates to pile on as much food as you could. If there was one thing about the events like these that you could tolerate, it was the ungodly amount of food that you would consume. To your surprise, the food is decent and you find yourself going back for a round of second and third helpings. You try to ignore the lingering eyes that stopped to stare at you and your cousin every so often, pretending you couldn’t hear them whispering about the both of you. You don’t bother to look around the room for your friends either, a little embarrassed by the fact that you had thrown a whole fit about not wanting to attend the event and yet here you were.

Your aunt comes around to drag you and your cousin around the room, introducing the both of you to the prominent residents in your town and suddenly it all makes sense. Your aunt had insisted that both of you attend this event but it was all so that the two of you could play a role in impressing the townspeople and asserting her presence. Knowing your aunt, she would be sitting in some position in one of the town’s boards and tonight was the beginning of that journey. Your cousin comes to that realization soon enough and after the 12th couple, he’s had enough. Answering the same questions about the university you were attending, the courses you were taking and etc. was getting awfully boring and you were running out of ways to creatively answer them. Your cousin excuses the both of you dragging you to the dance floor in an attempt to escape from his mother.

“Jesus, if I had to hear another person ask if I knew so and so’s son or daughter in a campus that holds over 30,000 students, I’m going to rip my hair out.”

“Yeah, I feel you,” You laugh. “If I had to explain my major one more time, I think I would be doing the same.”

The two of you stood there in the almost empty dancefloor, swaying about as you both talked about anything, anything at all to pass time. It doesn’t take long before your cousin plays fashion police and he suddenly has comments on everyone’s outfit. Sometimes you think he deserves an entertainment show, his jokes sending you into fits of laughter and you have to press your lips together to stifle your laughs when you realize the wild stares you were getting. Your family often described how the two of you had this ability to shut out the world when you guys were together, always sharing inside jokes, how endearing.

Jimin hears that classic sound and he instantly knows that it was your laugh he was hearing. From the table he was seated at, he peers around the room in search of you. Weird. Didn’t you say you weren’t attending the ball? Your laugh pierces through the otherwise quiet chatter ringing around the room and his eyes snap to the dancefloor to where you stood, in the arms of a man, a man that wasn’t him. He cranes his neck to catch a glimpse of you and god, you looked beautiful as you always did. Mina and the rest seated at the table broke away from their previous conversation to presumably talk about you but Jimin hears none of it, only feeling anger rise within him. Suddenly, he’s seething. Why did you lie about not wanting to attend the ball and why were you dancing with this guy? Because fuck, that should be him holding you close to him, not some stupid stranger. It takes everything in him to stop himself from storming over to rip this guy’s hands off your waist, jealousy clearly stirring within him.

Your cousin is mid-joke when you hear an excited shriek, Mina running towards both you and your cousin to greet you.

“I thought you guys said you weren’t coming?” She squeals.

“We weren’t,” Your cousin sighs as he removes his hands from you to greet Mina with a hug. “But my mum dragged us here.”

“I’m glad you guys are here though!” She exclaims. “Isn’t this fun?”

Both you and your cousin nod your head hesitantly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“Anyway, Y/N, I thought you said you hate slow dances,” She laughs. “What are you doing on the dancefloor, drawing all the attention to you?”

“I do, we both do, but this was our only way out of having to talk to all those old people,” You chuckle.

“Nerd, fancy seeing you here,” Jimin smiles and you eye him up and down. Damn did he know how to work a suit.

“Likewise,” You smile. “I rea—“

You see Mina, mouthing the words that’s him to your cousin and he nods understandingly.

“Oh, you’re Jumin aren’t you?” Your cousin interrupts excitedly.

You see Mina bury her face in her palms. She had been talking about Jimin all winter break and your cousin couldn’t even get his name right… had he even been listening all this time?

“It’s Jimin actually,” He replies with a fake smile. You giggled a little, knowing how much Jimin hated it when people got his name wrong.

“Right, Jimin, my bad,” Your cousin laughs. “I’m—“ The buzzing of his phone in his pocket interrupts his introduction and he excuses himself to pick up the call, leaving a light squeeze on your shoulder before he leaves. Mina notices Jimin’s clenched jaw and her eyes snap between you and him.

“Enjoying the ball?” You ask as a semi-awkward silence takes over.

“Of course,” Mina answers. “Jimin’s been such a gentleman all night, even got me this corsage,” She beams, as she points at her wrist.

You smile, nodding at her while your eyes glance downwards to spot Jimin’s hand resting on the curve of her waist. He smiles shyly down at her and you lick the corner of your lips in frustration, the sight making you just a tad bit jealous.

“That’s cute,” You reply curtly and the corner of Jimin’s lips pull up into a smirk after noting the expression of distaste on your face. “Where’s Tae and Hoseok?” You ask, trying to change the subject.

“They’re probably still raiding the buff—“

“Y/N, we got to go, my mum’s not feeling too well,” Your cousin says, appearing out of nowhere as he drags you away. “It was nice meeting you Jimin!”

“Tell Tae and Hoseok, I said hi!” You shout as you turn around to leave.

He watched as your date tugged you out of the hall and all he could feel was anger, like he had been betrayed. If Jimin had been mad before, now he’s absolutely fuming. You had played him like a fiddle, sneaking around and kissing him while you were in a relationship with some other guy. Hell, it had to be serious if you knew his mum too, he seethes. He’d given you a lot less credit than he should’ve. You hadn’t been here for more than 2 weeks and somehow you had managed to bag this guy and have Jimin himself fall for you at the same time. Well played, nerd, well played. He wonders if this was what it must’ve felt like for all those girls he hooked up at parties, those that wouldn’t leave him alone even when he was shoving his tongue down some other girl’s throat. He wonders if this is what it felt like to have his heart crushed. Screw you, he didn’t need you anyway… He had Mina right here. She was no you but at least she was clear about what she wanted and maybe Jimin wasn’t in the right frame of mind at the moment but she was beautiful and if you could go and fool around with someone else then so could he.

Time trickles along, the night passing by in a flash as Jimin whispers compliments into Mina’s ears, whispering things she had been dying to hear since she was 13. His hand rests low on her back, fingers almost skimming the curve of her ass. Tension was rising in the air and the both of them were playing a silent game of who was going to cave first.

“My parents are out of town,” She whispers into his ear. “Think we can make it back to mine without people noticing?”

Mina’s house wasn’t too far off from the town hall where the ball was being held and even if it was, lust was beginning to cloud his mind. Jimin nods with a smirk before he runs off to grab his coat, stopping by quickly at his parent’s table to let them know he was dropping Mina off as she wasn’t feeling well. What a sweet boy, the table coos and he smiles, lips pressed together to stop himself from laughing.

When the door of Mina’s bedroom is kicked shut, Jimin wastes no time unbuckling his belt as he felt her lick a stripe down his neck. The room is filled with only heavy breaths as the both of them frantically try to undress each other, both slowly backing up towards the bed. Mina had been dreaming of this for so long but now that she was laying underneath him, she feels as nervous as ever. She lets her fingers thread through his hair as he left a trail of kisses down her neck, hoping that he couldn’t hear the way her heart was hammering against her chest.

Thoughts of his night with you clouds his mind and Jimin can’t help but feel guilty as his tongue paves a path down Mina’s neck. Guilt. An absolute foreign emotion to him when it came to situations like this. He usually had no qualms, jumping from one girl to the next with ease but he felt a pinch in his heart, one that told him that this was wrong but fuck that, you were probably doing the very same thing with your date right now. The thought of you with someone else, kissing someone else, fucking someone else only made anger rise in his chest. A sharp hiss pulls him out of his thoughts and he instantly laves his tongue over the spot he had just harshly bit down on, apologizing under his breath.

You, you, you. Ever since he slept with you, all he could think about was you but right here, right now you were the last think he wanted on his mind because he’ll be damned if he leaves here with blue balls just because he couldn’t stop thinking about your smile. Shaking his head, he rids himself of the thought of you while his hand slips behind Mina’s back to unbuckle her bra. Maybe he just needed to sleep with someone else to get over you because if he was going to be just another number to you then you were going to be just one of his numerous conquests too.

You cross your room to turn off the lights, ready for bed after an exhausting night. Along with your cousin, you had rushed to the hospital to get your aunt treated. Apparently, she wasn’t paying attention, too busy laughing at the mayor’s jokes to notice that she had eaten a decent portion of crawfish which she was mildly allergic to. Both you and your cousin were quite literally losing your minds as you watched your aunt’s chest heave up and down, her gasping for air, unsure of what to do. The doctor administers a shot of anti-histamine and she calms down considerably after some time. A few moments later, she’s back to normal well except for her slightly swollen face that is. The doctor recommended that she stayed for a while just so he could monitor her but your stubborn aunt insists that she’s brought home at once.

You settle down on your bed letting out a heavy sigh as your head sinks against the pillow. Turning to your side, you peer out the window, watching the branches sway in the winter breeze.  Between the branches, you see a small figure leaving Mina’s house and huh, that’s weird, the ball should still be going on right now. Mina’s parents were away for the weekend, you knew that... but here was some guy with horribly messy hair and a wrongly buttoned shirt, strutting out of the house. You sit up to get a better look, pressing your face as close as it can get to the window. You watch as the man shuts the front door quietly, hiding behind a pillar on the porch as he peered out onto the street before him. He turns his head right, then left and— what the hell? That’s Jimin.

Mina was just Jimin’s date to some stupid ball you had told yourself when you witnessed the proposal. Jimin was just being nice, being friendly you had told yourself when you spotted his hand low on her waist and the beautiful corsage that hung on her wrist. This time however, you’ve run out of excuses to defend him. Jimin is just another fuckboy who’s definitely not worth your time, you tell yourself as you watch him jog down the street.

Stupid you. You can’t believe you let his flirty antics get to your head, thinking he actually meant all those things he said to you. You can’t believe you let yourself fall into the trap of thinking you were special just because he sneaked in kisses with you at the local cinema. Tae was right, he warned you to watch yourself around him and you felt so dumb, so hurt that you had let yourself become one of those girls. You had sworn that you wouldn’t let Jimin get to you but here you were sitting in your bed feeling as broken as all the other girls that had slept with the player that was Park Jimin. Stupid, stupid you.

Part 5

A/N: Thank you for reading! and as always, feedback is welcome (: