#last one is a. soccer au that i wish to continue soon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harryspet · 4 years ago

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good girl. bad habits. [2] peter parker

[Warnings] alpha!peter parker x omega!reader, omegaverse, boarding school au, dystopian au, soultmate au, suppressant pills, misogyny, hella angst, heat, intense sexual content (wear a condom kiddos)

A/N: this took way toooo long but overall im happy with how it turned out!

part one

In which Alpha Peter is persistent and you tried to hold onto your power.

word count: 4.5k

taglist: @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckybarney @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @marvelslut-musicalnerd @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @yanderepeterparker @ttqueen05 @belleknows @write-from-the-heart @sad-ed-noise @quaksonhehe @halparkebitchb @bangtaninyourareaxox @blondesforlife

Wanda was lucky it was Sunday. It was easier to skip Sunday service than regular classes and her severe hangover told you that she wasn’t getting out of bed anytime soon. You walked over to her twin bed and, although you had your own right across from her, you snuggled into her bed.

“Ugh,” Wanda groaned.

“That better not be for me,” You frowned.

“It is for you,” As you laid down, she wrapped her arm around you, resting her head on your shoulder, “You’re the one who gave me the booze.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t handle your liquor,” A small smile tugged at your lips until Wanda’s next words met your ears.

“Goddess, you smell like Alpha.”

“And what do you think you smell like? Is your virtue even still intact?”

“A lady never tells,” Wanda giggled but you scoffed, “I can’t believe that you of all people landed yourself an Alpha. A rich and powerful one too.”

You wish you could react like Wanda. You wished that you could switch a flip and you could see the world through rose-colored glasses, “I wouldn’t say I landed him. He was just acting like a territorial jerk like the rest of them. Who knows, maybe he has a thing for lots of girls. Being a council member's nephew … I’m sure he’s popular.”

“I don’t think so,” You could tell she was smiling by the way she was talking, “Peter didn’t dance with any other girl at the Ball. You’re like Cinderella and he’s your prince charming. Just promise you won’t forget me when you’re royalty.”

“I hope you know I’d rather swallow a knife than be associated with that family.”

Wanda didn’t listen to you as she continued, “Maybe it is true that opposites attract.”

Word spread fast around the Stark School and every question someone asked you was about Peter and whether or not you were mates. You denied any connection that you had with him and you made sure to have a scowl on your face when you did. This whole situation was hurting your reputation and making you appear weak. Before the ball, girls didn’t dare approach you out of fear that you’d poison their precious minds.

You preferred when people were scared of you.

To make matters worst, you woke up thinking about you-know-who and almost all your thoughts were starting to revolve around him. That was enough to drive you insane.

You decided that for the next few weeks you’d be on your worst behavior. You managed to break your previous record for your number of infractions within a single week. Every teacher that tried to scold you for misbehaving, you snapped back at. Your skirt got shorter and your makeup became even more extravagant.

Today, you finally managed to get back at the girl who always kicked your shins when you played soccer in physical education. Once she shoved past you, you reached back to grab a fistful of her hair. She cried out as she fell back and you heard the screaming of a whistle though you ignored it.

It was like all the frustration of your life had reached its boiling point. You hated everything about how your life had turned out. You knew the world wasn’t fair but now it just felt cruel.

Wanda had to pull you off of her to keep you from punching her, “Y/L/N, off the field now!” You heard your teacher say. Wanda was saying something, trying to calm you down, but you shrugged her off. You were already walking away from the field and towards the bleachers.

You figured you’d walk all the way back to dorms to let yourself blow off steam but you found a familiar face waiting behind the bleachers.

Your face fell and you thought your knees might give in. Clad in his uniform, his red tie, and a blazer that held the Asgard symbol completed the look. He looked put together unlike you. Your knees were bruised, your hair a mess, and your gym clothes were now covered in grass stains.

“What … What are you doing here?” You asked the young Alpha and, as he looked you over, he almost seemed concerned.

He stepped closer, his eyes burning holes into your skin, “I came to watch you play but … I don't think you’re making the team anytime soon.”

“Don’t you have your own life to worry about? I don’t know, maybe school? Or does your uncle have too much influence for you to have to worry about pesky things like grades?” Peter opened his mouth to retort but you interrupted him. His lips pressed into a thin line of frustration as he let you finish, “You know what, Alpha-boy? I really can’t do this right now.”

You gritted your teeth as you turned to walk away, only for a strong hand to wrap around your wrist. You turned to last out but, like a candle blown out by the wind, you felt your anger melt away. The calm settled on the features of your face and then it traveled through the rest of your body.

You looked down at his hand touching your skin, realizing that he was the source, “I meant what I said last time,” He spoke calmly but you could hear the seriousness in his tone, “You’re mine, Y/N.”

“How did you do that?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowed. Your voice was small once again and it made you wonder how long you had been raising your voice.

“Do what?” Peter smirked and, as much as you wanted to scowl, you couldn’t, “Isn’t this better? Having a moment where you’re not so angry at the world? If you’d just give me a chance, I could help you.”

“And what’s in it for you?” You already knew the answer. There was a part of him deep inside that craved the intimacy you could give him. He wanted someone to care for and to protect but he also wanted territory that he could claim and heirs to carry his name. As Peter searched your face, he could tell you already knew his answer, “I’m never going to want to be someone’s property, no matter what magic you try to work on me.”

“It’s not magic,” Peter insisted, “It’s a mate bond. I think … I think our souls are somehow connected.”

You couldn’t deny that you thought it was true. You could resist him but not the connection you were feeling, “Then we’ll break it-” Your mouth shut as if your body was mad at you for even letting those words escape your lips.

His eyes turned black, “Give me time with you. I’ll convince you otherwise.”

You finally pulled your arm away from him as a group of girls walked past, heading back towards the school. Some stared in awe and others whispered to each other, “I can’t believe this,” You whispered, letting the anger seep back in, “There will be no us time because you’re not even supposed to be here.”

“Winter Break,” He spoke simply, not paying the girls any mind, “You’ll come stay with my family. My Aunt May wants to meet you and Pepper thought it would be inappropriate to ask you herself …”

You blinked, wondering why the hell he wanted you, of all people, to meet his family, “The answer would’ve been no … I have to shower before Calculus.”

You turned away, your arms crossed but he called for you as you walked away again, “Where will you go then?”

“I don’t know, I’ll have Christmas with the nuns and the groundskeepers or something.”

You looked back to see he wasn’t chasing you. He only took a deep breath and stuffed his hands into his back pockets, “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

Peter was used to quiet dinners with his Aunt and Uncle. Usually, when he talked, Tony would respond with something snappy and condescending. Peter had learned over the years not to shake things up but that only led to anger and frustration being built up within. Peter was an Alpha but Tony was an Alpha of Alphas.

“You’ve been skipping school,” Tony didn’t meet Peter’s eyes as he brought a piece of steak to his mouth. Peter tried not to freeze or show any hint of guilt on his face.

Peter had come to visit you multiple times after the situation on the soccer field. As he expected, you rejected him with every chance you got but that didn’t stop him from trying to get to know you. His friends teased him for falling head over heels for someone he barely knew. Alphas were supposed to be above that and let the Omegas crawl to them but Peter enjoyed chasing you.

“Who told you that?” Peter asked casually.

“You don’t think I have eyes everywhere, genius?” Peter's lips pressed into a thin line as he gripped his fork tightly, poking at his food.

“Pepper finally confessed. She’s been going behind my back in order to help you,” He felt cornered and the fact that Pepper wasn’t here to defend him only made him more uneasy, “All this for a rebel sympathizer?”

Peter often disagreed with the man who sat upon his golden throne. Within the walls of his million-dollar home, Peter doubted there was a way Stark could possibly even understand the grievances of the people below him.

“She’s … she’s my mate,” Tony paused and shot Peter a hard glance.

“I’m sorry, she’s what?”

“I have a feeling, sir.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “A mate? My nephew has a mate …” Tony spoke to himself, “If I want you to be anything like me, Peter, then I should allow you your independence. However, I won’t have her embarrassing this family, so whatever you have to do to correct her behavior, you’ll do it.”

Peter instantly nodded, “I will, I promise.” Peter felt a glimmer of happiness at his Uncle’s acceptance.

“Who knows, maybe converting her will be good for my image. Our image, Peter.” It didn’t surprise Peter in the slightest that Tony’s mind was now working to see how it would benefit him.

The quiet dinner continued until Pepper arrived with news that would surely steal any light Peter felt in his own heart.

You had finally escaped the Stark School.

The city was cold but the people were colder. The harsh winter and the busy, holiday season left people tired and caused their words to be terse. It was why you preferred the hustling and bustling city of New York. The rankings existed but it seemed everyone was rude to one another. It was nice to see.

Besides that, in a city of millions of people, you were invincible. With the suppressants you were now on, no one could outwardly tell your ranking and, as long as you kept your head down, no officers asked for your identification.

The first couple of weeks were stressful but everything seemed to fall in place. You moved your way in and out of shelters, picking up jobs that paid under the table in order to earn money in order to buy more suppressants.

Omegas were almost as rare as true Alphas. Most people were middle ranking which meant the council controlled them but they were at least treated like human beings. If anyone found out, the council was the least of your worries.

That’s why when you thought you were having an allergic reaction to them, you stormed down the alleyway where you usually met your dealer, fire in your eyes, “You gave me a botched pills,” You pressed the bag of pills into Loki’s chest.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” He pushed you back with ease, causing you to stumble backwards as he casually stuck his hands back into the pockets of his black jacket. He looked around, trying to seem inconspicuous.

It was freezing outside but your body was overheating and your anger was boiling over, “Look at me,” You spoke with gritted teeth, “Do I look okay to you?”

“No, you should probably see a Doctor, darling,” His lips turned up into a smirk, “If you don’t mind, I have other matters to attend to.”

As he stepped around your body, you felt a weight on your shoulders. You tried to take a deep breath as you realized how much you were panicking, “Please,” You called after him, grabbing a hold of his arm, “I just need pills. Real pills. I’ll give you the rest of the money that I have.”

Loki looked over his shoulder and down at you, “Council is cracking down on suppressant sellers. They raided a ship carrying them a few nights ago so I wouldn’t expect anymore for a while.”

The man who called himself Loki searched your face, noting the look of desperation in your eyes, “What am I supposed to do then, huh?”

If he cared for your situation in any way, he didn’t show it.

Your hands balled into fist as he walked away but, in doing that, you realized how much your muscles were aching, “Don’t, please,” You walked after him, wincing in pain with every step. He didn’t seem to slow down for you as you tried to catch up to him on the sidewalk. Pain shot through your body and fire surged through your veins.

As your vision began to blur, you lost him in the crowd of people. Snow fell around you but that didn’t ease any of the burning pain. You tried to push yourself further, somehow find shelter, but with each step you felt even more helpless. When your knees finally gave in and you bit down on your own lip so hard that you tasted blood, no one paid you any mind. To them you were a simple bump in the road.

The place you woke up was the opposite of the buzzing city. The quietness was serene and the cool white light shining down on you was calming. You turned your aching head, wondering what new mess you had gotten yourself into. You found yourself staring out a window, the city outside but it was clear that you were on one of the highest floors of the hospital.

As someone cleared their throat, your head snapped in the other direction, as you lifted yourself up in the hospital bed. With wide eyes, you stared back at Tony Stark who was comfortably sitting at the chair beside your bed. As you moved, you realized that there was metal keeping you chained to the bed.

“Morning, sunshine,” Your head began to pound again, most likely because of how fast you had sat up. You knew you weren’t anyone’s favorite but you never thought your deviancy warranted a visit from one of the most powerful men in society … but then you remembered Peter, “... from what I’ve heard, you’re not known for being quiet.”

You shut your eyes tight as you tried to clear your racing thoughts, “Are you here to personally escort me to prison?”

“Sadly, no,” He said, folding his hands as he looked over you, “None of the council members know I’m here and no one knows you’re here either.”

“... so then you’re killing me yourself?”

Tony grinned, “No, sweetheart. Why do you think I had someone patch you up? That poison was making you malnourished and then your heat was draining you even more.”

You froze, “My what?”

Tony raised an eyebrow, “I’m guessing this is your first one but I’m sure you’ve read up on it in your studies. They say meeting your soulmate can trigger it …” It looked like he was connecting the dots in his own mind, “There were a lot of things you didn’t consider, Y/N.”

“He’s not …” The words burned as you tried to let them out.

“Or maybe you ran because you knew the bond was real. Your body, naturally, probably didn’t like the fact that you were rejecting him. Did you consider what it would do to him?”

Something pulled at your heartstrings as you finally thought about how Peter reacted when he found out you’d ran away, “... did something happen?”

Tony cocked his head to the side, “No damages big enough that I couldn’t pay for … am I sensing remorse?”

“I’m not sure how you could when it’s something you’ve never felt,” Tears stung your eyes, the reality of your world settling in, but you still held your head high, “If you’re here to preach, I don’t want to listen. And you’re not getting any gratitude from me.”

He could end your life with the snap of his finger yet that didn’t stop the venom on your tongue.

With a hard glare, he stood from his seat and took a step towards the bed, “I already agreed with Peter that he will be the one to take care of your … attitude. I truly hope that the next time we see each other you’ll be worthy enough for my nephew. You’re a pretty thing, this anger doesn’t suit you ....may the Goddess with you.”

The black car traveled down the gravel road surrounded by evergreen trees. Snow fell lightly and dropped onto the window glass and you watched it melt away as you neared your destination.

You were expecting doom and gloom as you pulled into the driveway. You didn’t expect the cabin to actually look like a home where happy people could live. Calling it a log cabin wouldn’t be fair to the money that probably went into building the luxury home. You could practically smell the expensiveness as you exited the car, not bothering to let the driver open the door for you.

You spun in a circle, your boots crushing the ice beneath your feet, as you took in the sight. You saw rolling hills of snow, tall mountains, and a blue-purple sunset that painted the sky.

When you saw him this time it was different. So much had happened since that night at the Halloween Ball and you didn’t expect him forgive you for being so cold to you but-

He called for you and, as you turned to face him, arms were tightly wrapped around you, “You could’ve died,” Were the first words that left his mouth. You didn’t embrace him back, you weren’t sure how, but your body instantly relaxed against him. It was the same feeling you got at the soccer field.

You were still speechless when he finally pulled away. His hands were still grabbing your arms as he looked you over for wounds. You were sure that your only flaw was the bags around your eyes from the lack of sleep you’d had over the last few days.

“Do you understand that? Someone could’ve taken you or you could’ve killed yourself.”

“I know-” He smashed his lips against yours, taking the words from your mouth. You pressed your hands against his chest but you didn’t push him away. The kiss was long and deep and, for a moment, the earth stopped spinning on its axis, “I don’t know how to do this, Peter.”

Your foreheads pressed together and his heavy breath fanning against your skin, the two of you tried to catch your breath, “Y/N, it’s okay,” Your name on his tongue was heaven, “This is real and I know you’re scared but it’s okay to accept this. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Do you promise?” You asked, weaker than you’ve ever been. As much as you wanted to blame it on the raging hormones of your heat, you knew what you wanted deep down.

“Yes,” Peter breathed, “And I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you.”

Peter led you into the warm home, helping you out of your coat, and keeping his hand on the small of your back. Your meeting with Pepper and May was brief. They sat in the kitchen sipping their hot cocos and they only gave you kind glances as Peter informed them that he’d take you up to your room. He could sense that you didn’t want an audience to your pain.

There were photos on every wall and sentimental ornaments. You had a feeling that by the end of winter break you’d know the story of each item.

“This is where you grew up?” You asked, your eyes wandering your new room. It was more spacious then any place you’d ever lived and the heat from the fireplace only added to the coziness the room provided.

“We spend every winter here. My Uncle Ben built this place,” Peter spoke succinctly.

“It’s straight out of one of those lifestyle magazines,” You felt Peter’s eyes on you as you slowly walked around the room, “... how did he die?”

“Someone shot him,” His gaze seemed to darken at the memory.

“I’m sorry,” You meant your words but you couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu.

“Don’t be,” He shrugged, “I mean, it was a long time ago … I guess I’ll leave you to settle in.”

You sensed he was trying to avoid a touchy conversation and you were more than willing to let him. Just being in his presence was calming but extremely overwhelming. The smallest things he did would cause your thoughts to race and, lately, those thoughts hadn’t been pure. Your mind had been replaying that kiss a million times in your head in the past twenty minutes.

As his hand gripped the door handle, a sudden wave of heat traveled beneath your skin, “Ah,” You rested your hands against the bed as you bit down on your lip to keep from crying out. It was the same overwhelming fire that you felt that day with Loki.

“Y/N,” You looked up, realizing that he hadn’t left. He walked towards you hesitantly, “.. you should take off those clothes.”

Your eyes widened, “What? No. I’m fine-” You winced as another wave passed through you, “I’m fine!”

“You’re overheating!” Peter exclaimed and it seemed it was taking everything within him not to do it himself.

“Peter, I’m fine,” You spoke through gritted teeth, “I can handle it on my own.”

“No, you can’t,” Peter stated nervously, “Sit down on the bed. Let me help you.”

“No,” You said again as you panicked, “I don’t need your stupid Alpha hormones messing up mine. You’re making it worse!”

“I said sit down,” He didn’t raise his voice but there was something different in his tone. Powerful. Your body moved like it never did before. Your body, against your will, sat down on the bed obediently.

You were left speechless for a moment and Peter seemed to stare at your abnormal behavior but not for long. He kneeled down and began to pull off your shoes and socks, “Peter-” You clutched your side.

He tossed the clothing to the side before standing. He leaned over you, pulling off your sweater and undershirt. When he finally made it to your belt, your eyes connected, “Don’t say no to me, Omega. I don’t like it, ” Again, your body moved before your mind and you nodded.

Stupid Alpha hormones.

Without the clothes, you instantly felt better but there was still burning in your veins, “Lay down,” Peter’s hand connected with your shoulder and you felt a coolness soothe the area as he pushed you down. Your back pressed against the soft mattress as you felt your jeans being undone, “There you go.”

“It hurts, Peter,” As the words left your mouth, you felt a kiss against your stomach. Your senses were completely out of whack and the simple touch sent waves of pleasure through your body. He kissed down your stomach to where he was pulling down your jeans. He pulled them down the length of your legs before deciding to rid himself his own clothes. You sat up on your elbows as you watched him reveal himself.

His body was perfectly crafted, the sight of him causing your core to ache for him. You moved up on your elbows as he stalked closer once again, “Bare your throat to me,” He demanded, lust in his eyes. Your heart began to race and you slowly moved further and further back on the bed as he followed you, “You want me to quell that fire inside, don’t you? I can take that pain away …”

It wasn't a command. He wanted you to go against every standard you’d set for yourself and willingly show him the ultimate sign of submission. He grabbed your hands, moving them so they were pinned above your head, as he settled between your legs. You felt his growing member pressed against your crotch, teasing you.

“Please don’t,” You begged and you watched his lips tug into a small smile. He leaned down closer, holding your smaller hand in his tightly, and you couldn’t run from that feeling anymore, “Peter, I can’t-”

“But you want to, Omega. You want to be tamed. You want me to be by my side, protected and loved for the rest of your days,” Peter grunted, pressing himself further into you. All you wanted was his lips on you again, “Now be a good girl for me.”

Your eyes shut tight as you turned your head, exposing your neck to the Alpha that called you his soulmate. He took the sign of submission as a green light to ravish your body. He pressed his lips against the skin of your neck, leaving rough bites along your skin, and you thought you might go deaf from how loud you were screaming in pleasure.

Peter kissed every inch of your body and you found yourself desperately trying to taste him as well. You realized that a switch had flipped inside of you a long time ago and you weren’t sure how you managed to resist it for long. Like a predator who finally captured his prey, Peter devoured you.

Your first times were nothing like the movie. You didn’t feel any sort of pain and your bodies were so synced that you felt anything but awkward. You felt like you knew him completely in this life and your past lives before,

“Please, please, please.”

He sunk deep inside of you, rocking the furniture and destroying the room, “You take me so good,” You nodded eagerly, the sound of his wanting voice driving you insane, “Fuck, get on top of me.” He smacked your bottom and your lips tugged into a tired smile.

After taking you in missionary, you switched positions, and you rode him until your second climax. Your arms wrapped around each other as you moved your hips. When he finally came he was deep inside you, his moans were enough to send you over the edge for the third time, “Peter, I’m gonna--again!” Your arms wrapped around his neck, you kissed passionately as he filled you with his warmth.

“You were fucking made for me,” Peter breathed against your lips, “Thank the Goddess.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks but Peter brushed them away with his thumb. You hadn’t realized the love you’d been lacking until now. You didn’t know a stranger's love could be so unconditional but it seemed he wasn’t a stranger at all. Whatever consequences came from this, you thanked the Goddess that you could feel again.

i might write a part three to this but i left it on a happy ending in case it takes me awhile to get to it!

#dark fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #dark peter parker #alpha!peter parker #omegaverse #omega!reader #a/b/o smut #avengers a/b/o #peter parker x y/n #dark!peter x reader #dark!peter #black!reader #peter parker x black!reader #alpha!peter parker x omega!reader #dystopian au #wanda maximoff #peter parker #peter parker au

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ginnympotter · 3 years ago

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call it even

Chapter 1: you’ll always know me

A/N: This is the first chapter of a 2 (or possibly 3? who knows) chapter Muggle AU fanfic inspired by tis the damn season and dorothea by taylor swift hehe hope you like it :) You can also read it on AO3 here.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and took a deep breath. It was way too early in the morning, she had just gotten off a long flight where she barely slept a wink, and she just didn’t have it in her to talk to any fans without the coffee she was impatiently waiting for at the LAX Starbucks.

But she turned around anyway, bracing herself, and then saw a face that jolted her so much she supposed she wouldn’t need the coffee anymore. “Harry?”

“Hey, Ginny,” he smiled. Harry Potter was standing in front of her for the first time in almost a year, looking as handsome as ever. He was tired, his green eyes looking glazed behind his glasses, his hair pointing in all directions- though she could tell he didn’t try to comb it- wearing the grey-blue sweater she knew her Mum bought him years ago.

Without really thinking about it, she moved forward and hugged him, throwing her arms around his neck, and he put his around her waist and hugged her back, but he also let go first.

“What are you doing here?” she asked incredulously, trying not to think too hard about him breaking the embrace before she could.

“My students had a tournament against a school out here,” he explained. “We lost though.”

“I’m sorry,” she offered.

“Oh, don’t be, I don’t mind. But the kids all seem like they’re going to jump out of the plane before we can make it home. I was up until 2am consoling the quarterback. My assistant coach is talking them all down now out there while I grab us coffee.”

She nodded, biting her lip. And then blurted out, “Why didn’t you call?” At Harry’s confused look, she added, “to tell me you were in L.A.?”

He cleared his throat, and Ginny saw a light blush creep up his neck. “Well, I knew you were away for your match. I caught some of it, you played great, as always.”

“Oh,” she responded, feeling stupid. She sometimes forgot that as a member of the U.S. Women’s Soccer team her schedule was often public knowledge. She felt a tug at her heart thinking about Harry still supporting her after all this time. “Right, thanks. I wish I could’ve shown you around the city. Did you like it here?”

He shrugged. “Not bad, but big cities aren’t really my style. You know that,” he ended, a solemn note in his voice. “Have you been enjoying it out here?”

She mirrored his shrug. “It’s fine, I suppose. I like the weather, if that counts.”

“Nothing else?”

With most people she’d probably just lie and say she loved it, but with Harry she had a bad habit of always being blunt. “The traffic here is worse than what they warn you about, and honestly, it’s hard to make friends when it seems like everyone just wants to use you for your fame- or for the more famous people that you know.”

“Well, if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know, you know you'll always know me.” Harry offered her a sad smile. “I’m always a call- or a FaceTime- away. Not that a tiny screen is my ideal way of seeing you, but better than nothing.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond right away, as she could feel her whole body burning up and her throat closing. There was so much in the air between them. But the barista called out a cold brew, and at the same time they both said, “oh, that’s me,” then looked at each other and laughed. The first one had Ginny’s name on it, the one that followed five seconds later had Harry’s.

They walked away from the coffee pick-up area together, and Harry checked his watch. “Well, we have to board soon. I’m sorry this is the only way we got to see each other.”

“I’ll be home for Christmas,” Ginny told him in response. She originally didn’t plan on reaching out to him when she got back home, because she knew her brother and Harry’s best friend Ron would just tell him, and if he wanted to see her he could make that decision for himself. But suddenly this became information that she couldn’t hold in.

“Oh,” responded Harry, running his free hand through his hair. Her heart fluttered at that motion, as she knew what it meant- that he was nervous in a good way. “Well, that’s great! Let me know when you plan on getting in, I’d love to catch up, properly.”

“Yeah, me too,” she said, the sincerity spilling out against her will. She never could truly play it cool with him, not even when they were kids. She hugged him again, smelling home lingering on his sweater. “I will. Have a safe flight, Harry.”

His grip on her was tighter this time, even with coffee in hand, than the last. “You too,” he replied. And then stiffened and let go. “I mean, you already had your flight, so that made no sense. Have a safe...cab ride home, I suppose?”

Ginny laughed at his stumbling. “I’ll do my best.”

He smiled, raising a hand in a small wave as he walked back towards his students. “See you later, Gin.”

She returned the smile and watched him reach his students. She noticed one of them looking at her as if they recognized her. She saw him nudge Harry with his elbow before she turned around and began walking to find her cab driver. As she continued to stride forward she faintly heard him ask, “Mr. Potter, was that just… Ginny Weasley? Do you know her?”

***

It was her fault for thinking her brothers would give her some indication that Harry would be there. They knew she still had feelings for him, no matter how much she denied it and how many times she tried to move on, and yet they couldn’t even give her a heads up.

When Fred and George saw her exasperated expression, they rolled their eyes in unison as Fred put his arm around her. “Are you reverting back to your 11-year-old self, little sis?”

“Fuck off,” she said, shrugging out of her brother’s embrace. “You could have at least warned me.”

“I thought you were bold, or whatever,” said George. “Wasn’t that one of the three qualities you used to describe yourself in People Magazine?”

Harry began walking over to them. She mentally prepared herself as he hugged Fred and George and congratulated them on the joke shop’s expansion. As he turned his attention to Ginny, the twins quickly left to talk to other guests. He didn’t smile.

“Hi,” she said nervously. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Hi,” he replied, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his drink. “Ron told me you landed three days ago.”

She gulped, feeling his hurt absorb her. “Well, I just got settled in and recharged, you know. I- I was going to text you.” Which was true; she did intend on keeping her promise to Harry at the airport, but didn’t know when the appropriate time would be- how do you know the right time to text your ex and first love to casually catch up?

He hummed, taking a sip of his beer. She absolutely despised cold Harry, she could feel it emanating off of him. “It’s fine,” he said, ostensibly lying. “I was catching up with some other people from school anyway. Remember Cho?”

Oh, he was cruel, bringing up his ex like that. “Obviously,” she almost spat. As if she could forget.

“Saw her and Neville, Hannah and Luna the other day.”

She had half a mind to mention Dean Thomas, her boyfriend right before Harry in her sophomore year, reaching out to her asking to go for a drink, but couldn’t find it in her to do it, so instead she just mirrored his cool and pretend unbothered tone. “I don’t remember asking, but thanks for the information.”

Harry’s frown became more clearly defined. “Fine, sorry to bother you.”

She felt a chill as he walked away from her, a familiar ache pooling in her abdomen. They were fighting like they were teenagers rather than grown adults. It was unlike him to start it- it was usually her- but she couldn’t really blame him, though. She knew at the end of the day that she was the main culprit, that she made him ache the way she did because she didn’t know how else to hold it on her own.

She watched him return to her brother Ron’s side and take another large sip of his beer. Ron’s wife and one of both Ginny’s and Harry’s closest friends, Hermione Granger, gave Harry an appraising look and then walked over to Ginny. Hermione gave her a short hug and then said, “Alright, which one of you said something stupid this time?”

Ginny scoffed, pulling away from her friend. “Oh, it’s nice to see you too, Hermione.”

“I saw you yesterday. So which one of you started it?”

“Obviously he did! He had the audacity to mention hanging out with Cho Chang to me.”

Hermione gave a look of utter exasperation. “That’s a new low for him.”

“I know!”

“But I’m assuming you replied with equal spite?”

She sputtered, crossing her arms. “Maybe so.”

“Well, you should have texted him, Ginny.”

“He should’ve texted me! ” she whispered sharply.

“But you told him at the airport-”

“No, I know that, but- I mean, he should have texted me after…” she trailed off, feeling ashamed of herself for being this upset. “After your wedding last year.”

“You mean after you two slept together again after my wedding last year.”

“Well, yeah. Once I got back to L.A. at least. But nothing.”

“You could’ve texted him then, as well.”

“Whose side are you on, anyway? I know Harry’s been your best friend forever and everything but I’m your sister-in-law! Doesn’t family by marriage mean anything to you?”

Hermione shook her head and rubbed her temples. “You two really need to sort out your issues on your own. But if it helps to know, he wasn’t really ‘hanging out’ with Cho. We were out with him and the others as well, Cho wasn’t in our group, she just happened to walk in with Michael Corner and they stopped by our table and said hi for a quick minute.”

“She’s dating Michael? My ex-boyfriend Michael?”

“Oh, yeah, they’ll be engaged any day now,” Hermione informed her.

“That lying piece of-”

“You’re both to blame here,” Hermione declared, using her I’m Putting My Foot Down voice. “Just act like adults for once and sort it out. Properly.”

Guilt enveloped her throughout the rest of the night and she hated how such a small exchange could do this to her, as she had to act like everything was okay, be happy for her brothers and talk about her life in L.A. and as a famous soccer player and sell the life she was living as one she was satisfied to have.

By the end of the evening, before he could leave, she found Harry by himself sitting and reading something intently on his phone. She took a deep breath and walked over to him. “Mind if I sit here?”

He looked up for a second, shook his head, and continued staring at his phone. She eased up just a tad, as she could tell his silence wasn’t his I’m Ignoring You silence, but rather his I’m Deep In Thought and Concentration silence. “Everything okay?” She asked, and when he glanced her way she gestured to his phone.

He gave a half-laugh, half sigh, looking back at his screen. “Yeah, it’s just some of these parents have no boundaries… emailing me during the holidays- on a Friday night no less. I’m just reading through them to decide if any of them are worth responding to outside of my automatic away signature.”

“Is this for the football team kids, or your English Literature students?”

“My Lit students, but there is some overlap. I have this one student, Danny, who’s a really great kid, and his parents are real dickheads, and they’re mad that he got a B+ instead of an A, despite me telling them last quarter that a B is a great grade, and Danny’s already self-conscious as it is and could use encouragement rather than nitpicking over bullshit-“

He caught sight of her face and quickly cut himself off, a blush spreading across his cheeks. She realized she was smiling- it was always nice to see Harry talk passionately about something- and quickly adjusted her facial features. He cleared his throat and closed his phone. “They can probably wait until after the holidays for me to repeat myself, I suppose.”

“I think that’s the right call,” she assured him.

He exhaled, running his hands through his hair and then over his face, trying to wipe off his exhaustion with it all. “Thanks.” He put his hands on his lap and looked at her fully, as he refused to do a couple of hours ago. “Ginny, I’m sorry-“

“No, I’m sorry,” she interjected. “I told you I’d let you know when I’d be here and I didn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I let my frustration get the better of me,” he said with a sigh. “Classic Harry for you.”

She laughed, folding her legs into a pretzel in her seat. “Can’t blame you, really, as I’d probably behave the same.” She let out a breath and continued on. “Look, I did mean to text you and tell you I was back. I just… I don’t know, I was stupid, I thought it had to be the right timing, but I guess that doesn’t make much sense.”

“What, were you waiting for a sign or something?” he asked. He was joking when he asked, but as he processed the look on her face he rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Wow, Gin. You never stop amazing me.”

She blushed and laughed nervously, thinking of all the times in the past Harry had said something like that to her. She wanted to hear more of it, over and over, even when he’s saying it in jest. “That is what I do best.”

His features sharpened a bit and he leaned forward. “Well, how’s me asking to see you tomorrow for a sign?”

She put her hand on her chin and pretended to think about it. “A pretty good one, I’d say.”

#harry potter #hp #harry potter x ginny weasley #harry x ginny #hinny #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #ginny weasley #ron weasley #hermione granger #fred weasley #george weasley

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aesterblaster · 3 years ago

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The Facility: Chapter One

Ok ok so you know that idea I had about a horror version of blue lock? If you don't then here is where I first put the idea, its second to last on the list. There are going to be some changes from cannon/twists since this is an au but yeah enjoy!

Summary: Isagi and 299 other kids enter blue lock expecting a soccer camp. But the elimination process is more gruesome than they bargained for.

TWs: Blood and injury mention, general horror also an animal attack

Isagi watched with wide eyes as the man on stage finished his speech. "There will be an intense elimination. But the last 30 standing will get a chance to progress and show what they have. That's all for the details. You can leave if you like, but as soon as you go through that door you are unlocking the chance to be the best striker in the world!"

The others around Isagi buzzed with excitement, what could he say. This Ego guy had a way with words. He had never heard of this philosophy, leaving your teammates behind and scoring your own goals? It was crazy! So crazy it just might work. Suddenly a hand raised.

"Hey! Sorry, but I can't agree with what you just said."

It was Kira, the only one here Isagi knew. The other teens stepped back from him as if his bravery was contagious. Ego's eyes narrowed as the star player began attacking the facility. A few people agreed with him. Nodding and shouting out their concerns. Ego only scratched his head, "I see, all of you are really fucked in the head. Then leave."

His harsh words and critiques quickly whipped all the naysayers into shape. But Kira still looked doubtful. The doors whirred open and all 300 kids ran through, including Isagi. What choice did they really have?

If only they knew what was waiting for them, maybe they wouldn't have been so eager.

. . . . 35 minutes later . . . .

Isagi walked through the hall, examining his new uniform. It was sleek but there were a lot of pockets and a chain like wrist band with a red dot. A tracker? Before he could think about it Kira poked his head out a "Team Z" door and waved to him. "Hey there! You're in the same room as me."

"Oh cool." At least there was a familiar face. Isagi scanned the other kids sitting around the room. It was surprisingly dark and there was one big screen on the wall that lit up with the Blue Lock logo after he closed the door. He'd be lying if he said there wasn't a pang of disappointment in his chest at the fact he couldn't socialize before it started. Get to know everyone's strengths and weaknesses.

"Hello everyone. The people around you right now are your team and will be your team for the foreseeable future. This first part is about survival." That wasn't Ego's voice. A shiver went down Isagi's spine. It sounded like a robot and the screen showed no face, only the logo. "Whoever gets injured will not see the next phase."

"What's going on!? I thought we'd be playing soccer, not fucking around playing caveman!" one boy with short hair and eyeliner said, a vein bulging in his forehead. The voice carried on, if it heard him it made no sign.

"Yeah I want to go back home!"

"This is weird, but I think we should listen. Maybe we can get a grip on what's happening.." a player with spiky orange hair muttered. At least there was someone who was being reasonable. Isagi sighed with relief.

"Step one of this phase is water. There is a map in one of the pockets of your suits. Marked in blue are the places with water and marked in black are the places with buckets for the water. The lights will come on after this message is over and you will have to store away as much of it as you can. You never know when the tap will shut off."

There was a sickening laugh from the robotic voice. "If you haven't guessed it already, this isn't Ego or his little assistant. Please only refer to me as Quill. The only way to escape is major injury since the fences and exit doors are wired with electrocution. Showers will happen every other day, but you are not allowed to bring any buckets with you or fight. The discussion on food will happen later. The doors will only be locked when it's time to sleep and trust me you'll need it."

"Good luck."

"What the fuck." Isagi whispered. The lights turned on.

A boy with blue hair already had his map out and spread on the floor. Most of the others were still in shock. "There are buckets near us, someone should go get those."

"Are you seriously going through with this?" Kira shouted. "This is hacked! We have to find some way out. Not play some little death game."

"Do you have any better ideas? He said he'd turn off the water soon right? Oh great Buddha have mercy!" someone whimpered.

"Come on, this is a high tech place." the blue haired one continued. "They'll fix the hacker soon enough and everything will be back to normal. For now let's just go along and not get hurt."

"And introduce ourselves? He said we're going to be together for the foreseeable future right?" it was the guy with spiky hair again.

"Yeah." Isagi spoke up. "Let's do that, it'll help with our nerves."

"Well, I'm going to go get water." someone with long red hair stood up and opened the door. Walking out without another word. The group went around and introduced themselves when he came back with three buckets full. The only one who didn't talk was someone who was asleep on the floor. More of the group went out and soon the corner of the dim room was crowded with buckets of fresh water

"We have water right? We should be stable for now." Iemon reasoned slumping against the wall. "Anyone have any games to pass the time?"

. . . . 22 minutes later . . . .

The more the boys talked with each other the more they relaxed. The guy who was asleep eventually woke up and introduced himself as Bachira. "I heard the whole thing, don't worry." he said with a nervous laugh as he twisted some of his hair around his finger.

The games continued, but there was this nagging sense that disaster would strike any moment. And it did. "You mean there's no fucking water left?" a voice outside Team Z's door boomed. Everyone froze as it got quiet again. Whoever was speaking had others with him because now there were talking in whispers. In deep discussion about what to do probably.

"Maybe we should barricade the door." Naruhaya said quietly.

"Hell no, we should go out there and help them!" Kira, ever the hero, argued.

"Agreed. We have more than enough for us." Kunigami added. No one else spoke up. Isagi wanted too, but it was best to stay put in this situation right? And Kunigami and Kira could handle any negotiations just fine. He'd only be dead weight in that situation.

"What is wrong with you? I can't believe you don't think they deserve help too." Kira adressed the whole room but it felt as if he was staring at Isagi.

"No it's not that it-" Gagumaru couldn't finish before both him and Kunigami left. The whole room waited for them to come back. The silence combined with the terrible lighting covered the room like a thick blanket. There was a scream and some muffled shouting. Was that a dog barking? Ten minutes went by. Kuon convinced everyone to stay put.

"There could be a hundred people out there for all we know! Think logically, those screams could be someone else!" He was right, and the unknown was terrifying. But a pit of guilt still sat in everyone's stomach. Two minutes passed. Fifteen. Twenty. Thirt-

Kunigami opened the door and closed it abruptly, Kiras arm was hoisted over his shoulders and he was groaning in pain. "What happened out there?" Isagi asked tentatively.

"There are other people out there. They look terrible. I think they've been here for weeks. I'll explain more in a second just, get Kira some rest, something. He's badly hurt."

The boys rushed to make a pillow out of the maps in their suits. Kira was laid down gently and quickly passed out. "I have a flashlight in my suit." Imamura said. He took it out and shined the beam on Kira. The arm of his suit was ripped off and his skin had three bite marks that broke the skin.

There was that thick, thick blanket of silence again. Chigiri threw up.

"What the fuck did that!?" Raichi whispered. "What happened?"

"We found a couple of people close to our door who had no water. We started to talk to them and they introduced themselves as Okawa and Niko. Then we heard that fucking voice again, the Quill guy. I dunno how he saw we were in the hallway but he said we weren't supposed to meet each other yet." There was a pause.

"Then he sicked a dog on us, it came bowling through the hallways like it's tail was on fire. Those two ran away but Kira thought it was a hologram or something. It wasn't." He stopped there. There was a mass gasp and cry of shock

"You're telling me Quill has bodyguard dogs?" Bachira asked.

"I guess we shouldn't get on his bad side. That's all. We'll be fine."

"Kira isn't! He's fucking bleeding out what are we gonna do?"

"Maybe he wouldn't be if you didn't go out there? Huh? We could be playing charades right now!"

Igaguri started praying. An argument broke out. Isagi wish he could see who was fighting but they flashed in and out of view. Where was that flashlight anyway? It was a mess.

"Everyone shut the fuck up! Kira is dead!" It was Kuon who spoke up. "I checked his pulse. He's dead. Shock and blood loss I think." Whatever fight was happening stopped as Isagi felt tears well up in his eyes. This couldn't be happening. Everything was moving too fast. Just an hour ago, just an hour ago he had just won the local tournament. And yet here he was, his arm a mangled mess of blood and tattered mesh.

The screen turned on again.

end of chapter one

#blue lock fanfic #my writing #bllk #blue lock #hurygf87tu9fjhyguf #blue lock manga

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pocket-luv101 · 4 years ago

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Summary: Mahiru is a single mother. (KuroMahi, Fem Mahiru, Modern AU)

“Are you excited about starting school, Machi?” Mahiru’s daughter would start kindergarten soon so she moved their small family to the city. She thought it would be best to show Machi around the neighbourhood and help her become familiar with their new home. After walking so much, they took a small break in the park. Mahiru sat on the grass and Machi laid her head on her lap.

“Why did we have to move to the city, Mama? It’s too noisy here.” Machi said to her in a small voice. Mahiru ran her fingers through her hair to comfort her. A breeze passed them and her daughter curled into a ball on her lap. Mahiru took off her sweater and placed it over her tiny shoulders. “I miss my friends.”

“I know it’s hard to leave the people you love. Change is difficult but you can’t avoid it. Thinking simply, the only thing we can do is face it. You should try to make new friends here. We will go back to visit your old friends too.” Mahiru stroked her hair to comfort her.

After a few moments, Machi closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. A sad smile appeared on Mahiru’s lips as she whispered, “You’re just like your Papa, Machi.”

Machi’s appearance resembled Mahiru much more than Kuro’s yet Mahiru would always think of him when she looked at their daughter. She missed Kuro and she wondered if he was doing well. When she discovered that she was pregnant in college, she didn’t know if he wanted to be a father. Considering his childhood, he would feel compelled to take responsibility. Mahiru couldn’t force that decision on him though.

Breaking up with Kuro was one of the hardest things she had to do in her life. Mahiru lied and told him it was because she was moving to the countryside and long distance would be too difficult for her. She would avoid his calls because hearing his voice made her heart ache with longing. Where was Kuro now? She hoped that he found happiness, even if it was without her.

“When I said I wanted to be just like my mom, I never thought our situations would be this similar.” Mahiru tucked Machi’s hair behind her tiny ear. She loved her daughter. No matter how complicated their lives could become, she only needed to look at Machi for strength. She hummed a lulling tune to help her sleep. She knew that she would have to carry her home.

A ball rolled to a stop next to her and lightly hit her feet. She reached over and picked up the ball to return it to its owner. Mahiru scanned the park for the owner of the ball and saw a family playing soccer. The brother sitting on the bench broke away from the group and walked to her. She stiffened when she recognized him. She knew that it would be too suspicious if she ran away. Her shock was reflected on the man’s face as well.

“Is that you, Kuro?” Mahiru smiled up at him. She subtly moved her jacket over Machi more and prayed that he wouldn’t notice her. For once, she was glad that her daughter was a deep sleeper. She didn’t expect to see Kuro again so soon. Despite their six years apart, his beautiful eyes still made warmth spread through her body. She tucked her hair behind her ear and said, “You haven’t changed at all. How have you been?”

“Okay,” He shrugged. Neither of them knew what to say and they fell into silence. Their breakup was amicable but he missed her when she moved away. Kuro wanted to respect her decision so he didn’t push her to stay. “Are you visiting Licht? Hyde told me that she wanted to talk to you and ask you for some advice since she’s pregnant. No one knows more about mothering than you.”

“What?” Mahiru couldn’t stop herself from exclaiming.

“Well, you’ve been mothering our friends ever since we were kids so you probably have a lot of advice for her. She also wanted to ask for recipes since she doesn’t know how to bake.” Kuro explained and relief passed her face. Mahiru only told a few of their mutual friends about Machi and she asked them not to tell Kuro. “Licht and Misono would love to have lunch with you again. We’ve all missed you.”

“I would love to talk with them too. I’ve been busy because we moved back a few days ago. If I find time, I’ll call and see if we can meet. I’ve missed everyone.” Mahiru admitted in a small voice. She wouldn’t trade her daughter and their time together for anything in the world though. She took the ball and held it up to Kuro. “I have to leave soon. It was nice to talk to you.”

“Yeah.” He wanted to catch up with her but he took a step back. Kuro’s smile had a hint of regret and he looked away from her.

An ice cream bike passed them and its bell jingled. Between them, Machi gasped excitedly and sat up. Her eyes immediately fell onto the ice cream cart. Machi didn’t look away from its colourful display as she patted her mother’s arm. “Ice cream! Can I buy a cone, please, Mama?”

Machi had to repeat the question several times because Mahiru couldn’t hear her over her own silent panic. She didn’t need to look up to know that Kuro must be shocked to see Machi. She couldn’t deny that she was their daughter. Mahiru collected her composure and smiled at Machi. “Since we just had lunch and you asked nicely, you can have a cone. Come back as soon as you buy it.”

Mahiru waved to the ice cream cart and it stopped for her. She took out a few bills from her bag and handed them to Machi. She kept her eyes on her daughter as she skipped to the ice cream. After a minute, Kuro whispered, “You got married? Is your husband nearby? I wouldn’t want him to get angry that you’re talking to your ex. Your daughter has your eyes.”

“Her name’s Machi. Her father… He’s… not in the picture.” Mahiru lifted her hand to show him that wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. She also wanted to block her face slightly so he couldn’t see that she was lying. It wasn’t entirely a lie but she knew Kuro could read her expressions easily. She didn’t know if Kuro wanted to have a family with her after being apart for so long and she decided to wait until she told him everything.

Kuro had to help raise his seven siblings so he knew how difficult being a single mom could be. He wished he could’ve helped her. She was the strongest person he knew but he was still protective of her. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could leave her to raise a child alone. “Was it hard to raise her alone?”

“I haven’t been raising her alone though. My uncle has been a great help. Tsurugi, Jun and Yumikage declared themselves her three uncles too. Don’t tell them but Machi’s favourite uncle is the punny one.” Mahiru giggled. “I decided to move back here so she could have a better life. Luckily, my new job won’t begin until a few weeks from now so I can help Machi become more comfortable. She’s nervous to start school.”

“Did you enroll Machi in Mikado Academy? Lily teaches there and I can tell him to look out for her. I know it’s hard to make friends in a new city. If you hadn’t approached me during lunchtime, I would’ve been a bigger loner.” Kuro thought of the first day they met as kids. At the time, he was struggling a lot with his family yet she brought laughter into his life.

“You had a pack of pocky and I wanted to try one.” Their reminiscing was interrupted when Machi returned. She held out the wrapped ice cream and Mahiru opened it for her. She didn’t eat it right away because she wanted to share with her mother. She pressed the popsicle to her mouth. “Thank you, Machi. We should head home. Do you want a piggyback?”

“Up!” Machi nodded with a smile. While she had her brown eyes, she thought she had Kuro’s smile. Mahiru knelt on the ground so she could climb onto her back. She only wrapped one tiny arm around her neck so she could continue to eat. Once she had a secure grip on her, Mahiru stood.

“Goodbye, Kuro. It was nice to talk to you again.” Mahiru smiled at him. “Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

“I should be able to finish this mural by next week. But why didn’t the school schedule this before the school year started? I have to deal with kids trying to touch the wet paint. Can’t deal.” Kuro groaned. Beside him, Lily passed him a bucket of paint. He was a painter and his brother asked him to donate a mural to the school. “I don’t know how you deal with kids.”

“They can be a handful but that’s all the more reason we need to teach them.” Lily admired his older brother since he was a good man beneath his demeanor. He appeared lazy and often complained about work yet he did everything he could to provide for their family. He noticed a child approach them and said, “I’m sorry but you can’t play here. You should go to the front gate and wait for your parents.”

“Machi?” Kuro set down his paintbrush and wiped his hands on his pants. He told his siblings about meeting Mahiru but Lily was still surprised to see her daughter. “You should listen to Lily-sensei and go to the front gate. Your mom won’t be able to find you if you wander off. If you’re lost, Lily can walk you back.”

“I heard you talk with Mama in the park yesterday. You were friends with Mama.” She ignored their instructions and changed the subject. “Do you know who my Papa is? Mama said I have to wait to meet him.”

That was the last thing he expected her to ask him. He didn’t know how to answer her. Her eyes pleaded with him to answer her but he couldn’t. Lily was better with kids and he was struggling with an answer as well. Kuro tapped the edge of the paint can and said, “I don’t know who he is. I’m sorry. How about we send a little message to him and sees if he comes here to meet you?”

Kuro took his paintbrush and wrote in the corner of his mural. “See you at home. You should sign your name here so he’ll know that it’s from you.”

She dipped her hand into the bucket and then pressed it against the wall to make a handprint. Machi took her hand back and looked up at him for approval. He chuckled softly but he didn’t correct her. Kuro knelt down and wiped her hand with a towel. “Your Mama will kill me if she knew you got dirty like this. We probably need to wash this off with soap and warm water.”

“Can Machi help you paint? Mama said I draw super cute kitties.” She told him with pride in her voice.

“Okay, you can paint in this spot next to your message.” His answer made her smile wide. Her eyes shone like Mahiru’s whenever she laughed. He handed her a paintbrush and she immediately started to paint on the wall. He stood next to her and resumed his work. Kuro looked over his shoulder to Lily, “You should see if Mahiru is waiting at the front gate. We both know how she worries.”

Lily nodded and left to find Mahiru. Kuro focused on the mural and drew a flower. He could feel Machi staring at him occasionally and he wondered why. He and Mahiru broke up yet he could never forget her. Since she moved away, he didn’t think they would reunite or date again. Mahiru was a wonderful person so he expected her to find someone else easily. Seeing her daughter made it too real for him.

“You paint pretty flowers. Machi will draw a giant sun to help them grow.” She had an innocent smile and it reminded him of Mahiru. She struggled to climb the step ladder next to so she could draw the sun high in the sky. He lifted her onto a low rung where she could reach. Kuro was worried she might fall off the ladder so he stood close to catch her.

He heard someone approach them and he looked over his shoulder. Mahiru walked towards them and immediately noticed the beautiful mural. She thought that he was a talented artist and he only became more skilled while they were apart. The cartoonish drawings Machi made clashed with Kuro’s fine art but he didn’t say a word to stop her.

She hugged Machi. “So, this is where you were. I thought I told you to wait by the front gate for me. You shouldn’t bother Kuro while he’s working. After you finish that sun, we should head home.”

“Machi isn’t bothering me.” Kuro reassured her. He put aside his tools and said: “Mahiru, can you help me get something from the shed? It’ll only take a minute and Lily can watch her while we’re gone.”

“Okay.” She hoped he couldn’t hear the hesitation in her one word. Mahiru didn’t know if he discovered the truth while he was painting with Machi. She dragged her feet as she walked beside him to the shed nearby. She glanced back to her daughter who happily continued to paint.

He opened the shed where the school kept the equipment. Kuro left the doors ajar so she would be comfortable. He was worried that Machi would overhear his next question. He chose his next words carefully. “Machi asked me about her father. She said she doesn’t know who he is. Is there a reason you don’t want her to see him? If he has hurt you, you can tell me.”

When she first told him about Machi, he assumed that her husband died or left. Kuro knew that Mahiru was a good person and she would only keep secrets to protect her loved ones. Yesterday, she said she wanted to give Machi a better life. The thought that someone hurt Mahiru made his stomach turn. “I know I’m not the most dependable person in the world but I can protect you.”

“You’ve always been my hero, Kuro. You’re the one person I can depend on no matter what. During my pregnancy, I wished you were there with me the entire time.” Mahiru placed her hands on her stomach and thought about the long nights and morning sickness. “I knew you would come to my rescue if I called you. But you were gaining popularity as an artist. I couldn’t ask you to put your career on hold for us.”

Kuro’s brows drew together in confusion. He thought they were discussing Machi’s father so he didn’t know why the subject changed to their previous relationship. Mahiru went on to say, “Then Machi was born and I was so happy. I looked into her beautiful face and thought, ‘You have your Papa’s nose. I wish Kuro could see how wonderful our daughter is’.”

Realization washed over his face but he couldn’t speak for a moment. He had to sit down and he placed his head in his hands. Mahiru knew that it must be a lot for him to absorb so suddenly. She decided to tell him because she couldn’t keep their daughter a secret or make Kuro worry about them. “I’m so sorry I left without telling you but I knew you would drop everything for us.”

Mahiru took both of his hands in hers and squeezed them gently. “You don’t need to feel responsible. We have learned how to get by together so you don’t have to worry about us.”

“Was the reason you left because you didn’t think I was good enough to be a father?” He asked her in a small voice. She knew that he would have a lot of questions and he deserved the answers.

“I saw how you took care of your siblings so I knew you would be a wonderful father. I already said the reason I left was because I didn’t want you to give up your career out of a sense of duty to us. If you had to give up so much, you might grow to resent us. My own father…” Mahiru’s voice broke and she couldn’t continue. He softly whispered her name and lifted her hands to his lips.

“I won’t abandon you or deny that Machi’s mine.” He promised. “Will you let me be a part of your lives?”

“It’ll be hard to explain everything to Machi but we can do it slowly.” She nodded.

#servamp #kuromahi #sloth pair #servamp kuro #mahiru shirota #fanfiction #fem mahiru

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1kook · 4 years ago

Text

acatalepsy

— 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ; 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦

chapter summary; The amount of times he’s seen you stretch yourself thin for this place was unreal. Jungkook liked Oleander as much as the next person, but occasionally he’d get hit with doubts. What would they do once the entity found them? Jungkook thinks he’d run. He’d take you and run far away, leaving this whole place behind. He’ll never tell you this, though, because he knew you loved Oleander too much. And if you didn’t, the responsibilities that tied you to it would never let you abandon the people like that anyway. overall warnings; gorey scenes, depictions of death, appearance of weapons, survival!au, apocalypse!au, super l o o s e bird box!au (no birds - jk is the bird 👀), eventual smut, dark and angsty, major character death chapter specifics; nudity, mentions of masturbation, unreal levels of horniness from jungkook, mentions of death, 1 fight scene, use of weapons, jungkook abusing tf outta pet names, loads of pessimistic jungkook word count; 10k

notes; as always ty to my amazing editor rumu 🥺<333 this part isn't as dark as part one, but anyway enjoy in love but on edge jungkook lmao

part one ⇠ part two ⇢ part three (soon!)

[ twelve months later]

“Rise and shine!” Taehyung sings, ripping the flap of his tent open for the world (the base) to see, sunlight filtering in through the gap like the trickling of water over a brook. Satisfied with the disruption, Taehyung flounces off to wake another poor soul from their sleep, leaving Jungkook to fend against the rays of the sun by himself. There’s a breeze this morning, one that makes the flimsy flaps bristle with each gush of wind, sunlight roving over him in intervals that leave Jungkook groaning in annoyance.

He can only stand it for so long, eventually rolling off his sleeping bag when he hears more voices outside beginning to grunt, the pop of bones as people do their morning stretches. With a final yawn, Jungkook decides to show his face to the outside world, stumbling out of his tent with sleep crusted eyes that have him bumping into a kid first thing in the morning, a slew of apologies thrown his way.

“Sorry, Jungkook!” The group of them call, skirting off in a fit of giggles. Jungkook waves them off, stretching his arms out in front of him as he waits for Namjoon to wake up.

The man in the tent next door is usually pretty good at rising before Taehyung’s wake up call, more often than not waiting for Jungkook. Today, however, is seemingly an off day. Five minutes roll by and Jungkook's patience is as long as his pinky— short. Such is proven when he barges into the tent only to find Namjoon sprawled out like a starfish inside.

“Hey,” he says, nudging his foot against the unconscious man’s calf. “Joon, we gotta go if you wanna get the good spot by the river.” More silence. Eventually, Jungkook gets mean and leans down to pinch his side, an action that not only wakes Namjoon, but also has him squealing at the touch.

“I’m up, I’m up,” he gasps, scrambling far away from Jungkook in a frenzied rush. Only after he’s knocked over his plastic bottle and the makeshift twig drying rack he dries his clothes and towel on does he calm down. “Oh, Kook. It’s you.”

Jungkook nods, eyes struggling to stay awake. “Yes, it is I, Jungkook, who would love to take a bath before __ yells at me for being late to breakfast again.”

Namjoon grunts as he gets up, taking his towel and day clothes with him as they exit his tent. At the creek, Jungkook drops his boxers—one of the four he owns and wears on rotation—and has to endure three minutes of Seokjin catcalling him. Him and some other fellow are guarding the creek bed today, guns cradled against their chests as Jungkook, Namjoon, and a few more people crawl into the water.

When Jungkook had first arrived, the thought of bathing with so many people made him uncomfortable. His nude form wasn’t something he went around showing everyone, and now he was expected to just show it to a bunch of strangers? Even worse, the people who stood guard against the river, eyes peeled for any potential threats. It all made him very nervous.

Now Seokjin’s calculated expression as he glances over the treeline behind them comforts Jungkook. The world was weird like that.

“Holy shit,” Jungkook groans, the same way he does every other day they bathe, muscles jumping at the cold water that tickles his toes. He sighs as he walks deeper into the freezing coldness. He rinses himself off, half heartedly splashing his body with water; at its deepest it only reaches above his knee.

Namjoon is off today, probably from the extended watch they had last night, eyes scanned over the dark forest as they waited for you and some other people to return from a scavenging trip that took about three days. It was just before dawn when you returned and his replacements relieved them of their duties. When they sit down to wash their hair, he nearly falls face first into Jungkook’s knee.

Jungkook cackles at the sight, trying to pretend like his nipples aren’t freezing as he fully envelopes himself in the water. “You alright, man?” He asks, running his fingernails through his hair. A couple of the people bathing further down the creek get up and leave, dressing by the bank. He knew they were a little late today, but Jesus, were they fast or what?

Namjoon nods, and the poor guy doesn’t even have the energy to defend himself when Jungkook childishly slaps a wave of water his way. “Just tired,” he admits, beginning to wash his own hair. With most of the people finished, Seokjin lets the other guard go early, leaving just the three of them at the creek.

“Hurry it up, ladies,” Seokjin calls, and Jungkook is only a little disappointed that his splash doesn’t reach him all the way over by his perch.

Luckily, before he can retort, there’s a silkier voice drifting through his ears, one that immediately makes every hair on his body stand straight. “What are you trying to say about ladies, Seokjin?” You ask as you come up behind him, and Jungkook is immediately flooded with warmth at your early morning appearance. Seokjin flounders for an answer you pay no mind to, eyes snapping to where Jungkook is instead.

“Need you at the armory in five, Kook,” you tell him, and he wonders if you know the way your voice makes his chest pound.

Pushing those juvenile thoughts away, Jungkook quickly slaps on a goofy grin for you. “Oh? You hear that, boys? Our great leader needs some alone time with me,” he boasts, and Namjoon rolls his eyes at his antics.

“She’d rather choke than be with a pleb like you,” Seokjin snorts, finally dropping his guard stance as Namjoon and him get out of the water. “Jesus, Kook—again?” He groans, covering your eyes with his rifle as Jungkook stands up, half-hard boner and all.

He’s grown used to it, the occasional hard on he gets in the water, like he’s some superhuman who’s developed immunity to the usual effects of cold water on a hard dick. But he can’t help it, it’s been over a year since he last got his dick wet, and being disgustingly in love with a woman who didn’t know certainly didn’t help. “What’s wrong?” You frown, hand wrapping around the barrel of Seokjin’s gun that blocks your vision.

Namjoon tosses him his towel, and he’s just knotted it around his waist when you catch his eye again, unimpressed as usual. “Don’t worry about it, baby,” he teases, turning his body away from you as he shimmies his clothes on. He can still feel your glare on his exposed backside, but living in Oleander has made him comfortable in his birthday suit, so he really doesn’t mind. When he’s halfway dressed, pant legs haphazardly stuffed into the big, chunky boots Namjoon had brought back for him once, he turns around, shirt tossed over his bare shoulder, to follow you back to the base.

“And you’re requesting my presence so early in the morning, why?” He hums, toweling his hair dry as the two of you finally reach Oleander. There’s significantly more people milling about now, kids playing a game of soccer in the middle of the grounds, while others travel to and from the mess hall. There’s a wonderful scent emanating from the mess hall’s open front, and Jungkook wishes desperately you’ll lead him there instead.

You don’t, politely bidding people good morning until you reach the door to the armory, waving Jungkook in. “Needed you,” you explain, clattering around the space in search for something. The armory has gotten some pretty good upgrades in the past year he’s been here, graduating from a shabby box to full on storage container. It took a while to get it to this size, the wood working process more difficult than any of them thought, but they were all proud of it now.

Over the past year, Oleander has grown in size, a fact which causes great turmoil in Jungkook. On one hand, he’s glad he and the others have been able to save more people, take them under their wings in this scary new world. On the other, he feels like he’s always on edge.

It was a known fact that the entity was drawn to established civilizations, and with each new person that joined, Jungkook is left wondering what exactly that means. The last he heard, they were sitting somewhere near one hundred seventy. That was about one hundred more than when he first arrived. Was there some unknown number they had to avoid? Would the entity sense their presence once they reached two hundred residents, deem them an established society that needed wrecking?

He doesn’t know. They’ve been lucky enough so far, never having been caught by the entity on Oleander grounds. But other groups of scavengers hadn’t. Despite their growing numbers, they’ve lost people as well. Some they knew were caught up by neighboring bases—the Magnolians in particular, who killed on sight—and would return in groups smaller than when they were dispatched. Others never returned at all, presumably infected with the madness.

Nonetheless, Oleander continued to grow. They weren’t a spattering of tents and loose rules anymore, erecting more shabbily constructed buildings along the way. Like a privacy room for a pregnant woman they’d found and another small storage for the vegetables they began growing last fall.

Jungkook groans as he settles into a seat across from you, tugging his shirt over his shoulders. “That’s what I like to hear.”

You level him with an unamused glare, tossing a dirt-caked bullet at him. He catches it in one hand, twirls the bronzed metal between his fingers. “What happened to the quiet guy who couldn’t even look me in the eye?” You huff, pulling up a crate to sit before him.

Jungkook squints at the bullet, finally catching sight of an engraved brand name he’s almost certain they don’t have. “Life,” he murmurs absentmindedly. “Where did you get this?” He asks, finally glancing back at you.

Your arms are crossed over your chest, and he’s come to learn you do this one of two times: one when you’re feeling especially confident, unconsciously garnering everyone’s attention with such a pose, and the other when something is bothering you. Judging by the quirk of your lips, Jungkook guesses it’s the latter.

“Found it on our way back,” you relay, huffing as you recall the memory. Jungkook raises a brow at the news, gesturing for you to elaborate. “By the mouth of the creek.”

That’s a couple miles away, he thinks, sitting back in his seat in a pose that mimics yours. He and Taehyung had spent an entire day following the creek behind the base, traced it miles out until they’d reached a larger river that Jungkook only barely remembered learning about in high school geography. A river meant fish, a revelation that had excited them both after eating nothing but canned foods for the past few months. Of course, you hadn’t been as thrilled when they returned to base hours later, having left without telling anyone. He still remembers the watery sheen to your eyes as you had cursed them to hell and back.

“Our creek?” He asks, just to make sure, and you confirm with a nod. “Damn,” he scoffs, rubbing a hand over his chin in a habit he picked up from Hobi. “We gotta go check it out.”

The handful of bases they stumbled upon this past year were far and few between. Most times, you, their leader, would approach any camps you saw first and meet with their respective leader. They hardly ever interacted with you again, because there was always that looming sense of competition between survivor camps like yours.

In fact, the only group Jungkook could think of that blatantly went out of their way to cause problems was the one that had so lovingly almost beat him to death when he was at his lowest: Magnolia. It feels like a lifetime ago.

You agree. “That’s what I was thinking,” you sigh, raising to your feet. “But I don’t wanna risk anyone getting hurt if it is dangerous, y’know?”

He follows after you, leaning against a folding table he and the guys snatched off some lawn during their last scavenge. A bitch to carry back, but it was definitely worth it. “Yeah, keep it small,” he suggests, running through a list of all their active scavengers in his head. “Maybe five?”

You shake your head, nibbling your lip nervously. “Too risky. I was thinking less.”

“Less?” Jungkook chokes. “Babe, you can’t send a smaller group than that, that’s suicide.” Never mind the fact he and Taehyung had been completely okay with dallying off like that just a few months ago. Semantics Jungkook refuses to acknowledge. “Besides, I don’t think anyone would volunteer for that.”

You glance at him for a moment, and he can visibly see your brain working overtime, before you’re turning away with a determined look on your face. “Listen,” you sigh, hands flat on the table. Jungkook peers down at your twisted features. “I’m not asking anyone to volunteer,” you explain. “I’ll go.”

Jungkook scoffs. “Like hell you will,” he retorts. “And when those fuckers catch you all alone and kill you?” You don’t say a word, lower lip caught between your teeth as you glare down at the bullet.

“Then you move on,” you finally breathe. “Get a new leader. Probably move the camp.”

Jungkook could gouge his eyes out. “Babe, what,” he stresses. “No. You’re not gonna go on a mission like that alone.”

Finally turning away from whatever trance the bullet has you in, you cross your arms over your chest. “Really? And what’s stopping me?”

“Me,” he enforces, stepping into your space. “You aren’t gonna go and confront whatever psycho is out there. Baby, do you even realize how reckless that sounds?”

“I do!” You snap. “Which is why I don’t want other people going.” You step away, rub your fingers against your forehead as you lose yourself in an even deeper train of thought.

“Then I'm going too,” Jungkook announces, whirling away before you can tell him no.

A hand catches his shoulder, forcefully tugging him back around. He’s met with your wide eyes, flickering over his face in worry. “Jungkook, now’s not the time to play hero,” you plead.

He scoffs. “Could say the same to you.”

Groaning you push him away. “Please,” you huff. “Just stay here. It’s probably nothing and I’ll come back after sunset.”

“If it’s nothing then I don't see the issue with me going,” he points out. In the back of his head, he’s vaguely aware he’s volunteering himself for the very same plan he claimed no one would volunteer for just a few moments ago. It was crazy what one woman and a thundering heart could do to him. But he’d follow you on a thousand stupid missions if it meant keeping you safe. “When are we leaving?”

To prevent inciting any panic among the Oleanderians over one bullet, the only person you tell about this trip is Hoseok. Jungkook thinks it’s dumb. Actually, Jungkook thinks this whole idea is pretty dumb, and that they could benefit greatly from taking at least one more person along, even if that person was half-asleep Namjoon.

You don’t share the same sentiment as you haul a tiny bag of supplies over his shoulder, gesturing for Jungkook to get moving.

Right as the two of you step off Oleander grounds, Seokjin’s voice comes barreling around the corner. Jungkook sees the noticeable displeasure in your features as the two of you pause, watching the nurse torpedo towards the two of you. “Where are you two going?” He immediately begins interrogating. You glance at Jungkook who only glances back at you, urging you to respond to Jin. Normally, he would’ve told the guy to simply fuck off. But since this is your secret plan he wants to see what lie you’ll toss out this time.

With an indignant roll of your eyes you turn to face the older man. “I’m taking Jungkook out for some practice,” you fib, and Jungkook is a little offended you would even insinuate he needs more practice. “His knee has been hurting again so we wanna take it slow.”

It’s probably the lamest excuse you can give. Seokjin was well aware of the ache in his knee, caused by years of training on the field and torn ligaments that have long since healed over. He knows everything there is to know about Jungkook’s knee, especially the fact it only hurt after a scavenging trip, and as far as he was concerned, Jungkook hadn’t gone on a trip in the past two weeks.

“Uh huh,” Seokjin says, and Jungkook can tell he doesn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth for one second.

At this point, he’s desperate to start down the creek, prove there truly is no harm down there as you suspect, and whisk you back to the O quickly. If that means he has to put the charm on Seokjin, then that’s fine by him.

“Listen, big guy,” Jungkook steps forward, pushing you behind him. “Me and the boss are gonna get some practice,” a greasy wink he’s glad you don’t see, “if you know what I mean. So do me a solid and lay off this once?”

Jungkook’s excuse only makes Seokjin even more wary, but sensing he won’t get a serious answer out of the two of you, he backs off. “Fine,” he agrees, stepping away. He throws a glance over at you, “let me know if this sleaze tries anything with you.”

You nod, tugging Jungkook down towards the creek bed hastily. “Really? That was your best excuse?” You snap with a unbelieving look in your eye. “Another sexual joke?”

Jungkook shrugs. “What can I say? It’s my brand,” he halfheartedly defends, soon falling into step beside you as you hurry alongside the creek bed. He doesn’t see the need to rush, considering this will most likely be a long trip.

It takes about three and half hours to get to the huge river the creek trickles into. The long distance is the main reason fish hadn’t become completely integrated into the mess hall’s admittedly small menu like he and Taehyung had dreamt about. Normally he doesn’t mind the seven hours to and from if he’s with the guys, a scenic walk that’s filled with countless jokes here and there.

With you, however, every nerve in Jungkook’s body is lit ablaze, his thoughts bouncing wildly in his head as the realization he’ll get to spend the whole day with you alone dawns over him.

Despite the fact he’s known you for the past year, there’s still a lot of unknown mystery that surrounds you.

Well, not really a mystery.

Mostly just little things he wants to know about you, the woman who saved him when he was so alone and lost; the woman he feels himself growing more and more enamored with as the days go by.

From what he’s gathered, you were in a master’s program when the entity first appeared, living in a small town just outside the city. You had escaped the entity by sheer luck.

You were on a jog when it happened, you told him, headphones blasting when the calamity hit. Slowly, the world around you had crumbled, people falling victim to the madness and ending their lives before your very eyes. So terrified, you had dropped to the ground in a ball, sobbed to the soundtrack of some Top 50 playlist for hours amidst the dead bodies that littered the streets of your neighborhood. Until, eventually, the entity had left, losing your presence amongst all the death that surrounded you.

This was all something Jungkook had only learned about a few months ago, in a rare moment of vulnerability. That moment had been the only time you had ever laid your heart out like that, shared with him a piece of yourself. Ever since then, he was desperate to learn more.

Not wasting a second longer, Jungkook jumps headfirst into it. “Soooo, what’re we doing for your birthday this year?” He hums, peering down at your features.

You say nothing, eyes glancing furtively through the vast amounts of trees ahead of you for any signs of life. There’s no one out here, a fact both of you know, but he supposes it never hurts to be cautious. “You don’t know my birthday,” you remind him.

“How am I supposed to know it when you hide it away like it’s some mind blowing national secret?” He says cheekily. “I’ll tell you mine. It’s September first.”

Most men would feel discouraged by your lack of interest in the conversation, but not Jungkook. He’s grown used to your aloof exterior, finds it kind of endearing actually. After a moment, you pointedly announce, “Jungkook, I haven’t known what day it is for months now... birthdays practically mean nothing to me.”

“It’s June second,” he says right away, and his confidence surprises you if the way you pause is any indication. He stops beside you, tilts his head at your reluctant gaze.

“How would you know that?” You ask in disbelief, one hand on your hip. The semi-automatic pistol you have strapped to your waist bounces against your thigh. “We haven’t seen a calendar in months, and if we did, we wouldn’t even know what day it was.”

Jungkook shrugs. “It’s mostly just a guess,” he admits, pointing at a patch of pink flowers sprouting near the water. “Oleanders usually bloom at the end of spring. I’m surprised you didn’t know considering you named your little campgrounds after them,” he playfully jabs, crossing his arms over his chest as your eyes trail over toward the pink flowers beside your foot.

His heart falls straight out of his ass when you begin crouching down, fingers outstretched towards the flora. “They’re poisonous, you idiot,” he scolds, yanking you up by the elbow.

Jungkook can count on one hand the moments he’s truly left you flustered, and part of him is a little disappointed that it’s some stupid death flowers that make it onto the list. But your lips are adorably puckered, gaze flickering away from him in embarrassment at your slip up, and Jungkook can’t believe the hammering of his heart. “Oh,” you murmur, and then, impossibly quieter, “sorry.”

He sighs, quiets the thumping in his chest. After a moment, he throws a hand over your shoulders, guiding you back down the creek as if your little moment of stupidity didn’t just happen. “Wow, our brave leader sure is a dummy,” he exclaims, nearly faints at the small smile you hide from him.

“Shut up,” you retort, but there’s no malice in your words and you don’t push Jungkook’s arms away. “I’m bad at remembering which ones are harmful, okay? That’s more down Hoseok’s lane.” It certainly was down Hobi’s lane, considering the man had run a floral business prior to this catastrophe. Jungkook knows he’s the one who gave Oleander its name, at first just as a warning for the younger kids to avoid the flower, but it never hurts to tease you about it.

It’s little things like this that he treasures between the two of you, moments that nestle their way into the cracks of his heart. Not that you’ll ever understand.

The walk to the river ends up being shorter than he remembers, and after a few hours of bantering the tinkling trickle of the creek is replaced with the rapid currents ahead. “Where was it?” He asks, all traces of glee wiped from his face as he keeps his eyes focused on the tree line. He hears your telltale shuffling behind him as you retrace your steps, calculated steps that suddenly come to a halt. “Babe?” He calls out after a moment.

There’s a soft breeze in the air that ruffles his hair. It’s not the gust of wind that precedes the entity, but it still sets Jungkook on edge, hand reaching for his rifle.

A scuffle behind him causes him to whirl around, gun out and pointed at whatever made the sound, only to find you with a gun pressed to your temple. Jungkook swears.

Some guy he’s never seen before holds you captive, gloved palm pressed over your mouth uncomfortably, your hand clutching at his wrist. Jungkook takes comfort in the fact you at least put up a fight, matching the barrel against your forehead with a pistol to the guy’s neck. All in all, it’s pretty even on both ends. Well, not completely, Jungkook thinks, finger tightening on the trigger.

Before he can so much as think, there’s something prodding against his lower back, a low voice purring, “drop it, lover boy,” against his ear.

Knowing when he’s been outdone, Jungkook lowers his arms with a frustrated sigh, letting the guy that snuck up behind him tug the sack you carefully prepared off his shoulders and dump it onto the ground. He catches your gaze, dark eyes seeming to convey a message he doesn’t understand, not the least bit bothered by the man holding you at gunpoint. “Anything good?” The one holding you asks.

The one behind Jungkook steadies the weapon pressed to his back, nudges through the pile on the floor with his foot. “Some snacks, but nothing long lasting.”

The dark haired one cusses, tightening his hold on you. Jungkook wants nothing more than to lunge forward, tear the guy apart for laying his dirty hands on you. “Hey, lover boy,” he barks, and Jungkook’s glare only intensifies. “Where’d you find this stuff?”

Jungkook snorts. “I’m not telling you shit,” he spits, much to their dismay, and Jungkook groans when the one behind him slams the butt of his weapon against the back of his skull, sending him onto his knees. Another flurry of movement, and when his vision clears back up you’ve got your pistol pointed at the man behind Jungkook this time, leaving yourself completely defenseless against your captor. Jungkook curses at your recklessness.

Just once he wants you to put yourself first, value your life the same way he does. Now the both of you are left vulnerable, held at gunpoint by two men presumably from another camp.

“Well,” his attacker leers, “you sure managed to find yourself a good girl out here, huh?”

The second the words leave his mouth Jungkook knows they’re in for a show.

If there was one thing you hated more than anything in this fucked up world, it was being reduced to a man’s accessory. Anyone in Oleander could rave about how great you were—hell, Jungkook did it every chance he got. A lot of the Oleanderians held a lot of respect for you. You were their leader, a title they had pushed onto you until you accepted. To have your grueling efforts, your hard work, brushed aside because of your appearance enraged you like no other.

Just as he predicted, the flame in your gaze grows tenfold, the strength you’d been hiding coming out of the container you usually locked it up in. Your body moves swiftly, knocking back forcefully into your captor before leaning forward, using the hand on his wrist to haul him over your shoulder like a sumo wrestler. Neither of them see it coming, and in his shock, the dark haired one pulls his trigger, a bullet shooting into the ground with a loud crack.

The sound startles Jungkook and the other man but Jungkook capitalizes on their shock first, whirling around to meet the guy’s face for the first time, greeting him with a clenched fist. The intensity of his punch leaves the man recoiling, blindly stumbling back as Jungkook pushes on. When the man falls back, bloody nose and all, Jungkook reaches for his weapon, only to find a steel pipe in its place. Fuck, who were these conmen?

Eventually Jungkook corners him against the base of a tree, fuming at the fact these idiots had fooled him with empty threats, tricked him into thinking he was seriously in danger with a fucking scrap of metal.

Despite the way they had stealthily crept up on the two of you, these guys have neither the experience nor support to successfully pull off a stunt like this. This much is evident when he glances back and finds you wrestling the other guy’s arms behind his back. Following your example, he hauls his attacker up by the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the tree. “Who are you with?” He hisses, watching the guy squirm in his hold. “Who the fuck are you with?” He repeats, and the guy finally breaks.

“No one! No one. It’s just the two of us, me and Yoongi, no one else,” he rambles, and Jungkook glances back at you. You were significantly better than him at detecting lies, and one solemn nod from you has him releasing his grip, angrily kicking the damn piece of tubing far into the distance.

“So you’re strays,” you announce a few moments later, arms crossed over your chest in that famous power stance, eyes scanning over the figures of the two men Jungkook had pushed to their knees in front of you.

“Yes,” Jimin, the one who had originally attacked Jungkook, confirms. “It’s been just us two for a few months now.”

You let his answer sit for a few beats. “Where did you get this gun? This is the same one the Magnolia carry,” you state, and Jungkook wants to laugh at your stern approach, because just minutes ago you were fighting off a smile at his fourth knock knock joke. Instead, he schools his expression, gathering their things back into the sack Jimin had so lovingly dumped earlier.

Yoongi sighs, and Jungkook is extra wary of him, because it seems he is the one who orchestrated their little attack. “We attacked two of them. Took the gun and some other things before they could call for help. We’ve only had it for a few weeks now,” he confesses.

Jungkook snorts. These guys sure were brave, he thinks. One measly gun and they became bold enough to pull a stunt like this. If it were up to him he’d take their admittedly small resources and throw them back out into the forest with nothing for their half-assed efforts.

Sadly, it’s not. He watches you mull over their responses, can practically hear the invitation sitting on the tip of your tongue. It’s not the first time he’s found himself in a situation like this with you, your overwhelming need to invite nearly every stray you stumbled upon back to the O. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you turn someone away.

Briefly he wonders if you had the same doubts as him. How many people constituted a functional society? They’d never know until the day the entity shows up. Until then, he knows you’ll keep taking strays in.

As predicted, the offer appears. “We have a place,” you begin, and Jungkook’s eyes can’t roll far back enough. Leave it to you to invite these half-assed clowns back to Oleander.

Silently, Jungkook walks off to sulk elsewhere, still mad that he’d let some idiot take advantage of his lack of sight to trick him into believing he had a gun to his back.

Later, when you’re wrapping up your extensive history of Oleander to these two strangers, you wander back towards where Jungkook’s been leaning against a tree. The two men follow behind tentatively, and you gesture for them to start up the creek bed, pointing toward the general direction of Oleander.

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare, one you have no problem returning. “Really?” He drawls. “Inviting back the guys who tried to kill you?”

You ignore him, falling into step a few meters behind the two men. Jungkook follows. “They don’t have anywhere else to go,” you mention. “Besides, they’re not dangerous.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Babe, these guys were willing to kill you over a bag of granola bars and water,” he emphasizes, throwing a glance their way. “You think they won’t try that at the O?”

You shrug. Jungkook could strangle you.

“Kook, one of them had a pipe. He can’t really kill you with that,” you remind him, as if he isn’t embarrassed enough. “They’re obviously smart guys,” you add, your arm brushing against his. “It wouldn’t hurt to have people who can think like that back at Oleander.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I can get creative, too, y’know,” he huffs.

His childishness makes you snort, a small hand patting the small of his back comfortingly. “I know you can,” you smile. “But for every smart Kook idea, I have ten dumb Namjoon ideas. It would help to have someone else to balance them out.”

Placated, Jungkook lets it go. “I just want you to be careful, babe,” he murmurs, watching the two men ahead of him with caution.

Nodding along to his concern, you call out to the men to carry on left when you reach a break in the creek. “I know, and I’m always grateful to you for that,” you reply, the hand on his back drawing soothing circles. He hates how easily you can calm him down. “Just please trust in my decisions this once.”

It’s a cruel jab that makes his heart ache.

Jungkook doesn’t want you to think he questions your decisions as their leader, even if sometimes he does. He knows how stressful it is for you to have all these people depending on you, so he’ll never tell you you’re doing a bad job. Still, you have your moments where you’re a little too reckless, a little too careless.

Like today. If you had come out alone, Jungkook doesn’t know what these men would have done to you. He doesn’t like when you make decisions like that, sacrifice yourself for others like that, but he also doesn’t want to make you think you’re a bad leader, because you’re not. Just a little dumb sometimes.

Jungkook says nothing, sensing this is a losing battle. They trek back to Oleander in relative silence, a three hour walk that ends a little past sunset.

Jimin and Yoongi get the same golden welcome as every new person does at Oleander, with Hoseok cheerily showing them around the grounds and letting Seokjin check over their health. It’s the exact same process Jungkook went through when he first came here, and perhaps that’s why he feels so put off by the way you skirt around your discovery of them when Hoseok asks. You lie and say you found them on the way back from your training, not mentioning the fact they attacked you.

They end up moving into Namjoon’s tent, with Namjoon moving in with Jungkook. He doesn’t seem the least bit critical of Jimin and Yoongi, and Jungkook guesses no one besides him ever will.

With summer upon them, the seeds they planted last fall sprout beautifully. The chefs at the mess hall serve the most organic pizza Jungkook’s ever had, made in the clay oven Namjoon spent hours on last fall. He eats and leaves right away, ignoring his friends’ confused expressions when he skips out on their evening gossip session at the hall.

The tent feels smaller with Namjoon’s sleeping bag squeezed inside, his casual clothes and Jungkook’s blue tracksuit pushed against the opposite end of the tent.

He wonders how he’s supposed to jack himself off now that he doesn’t have his own private space. The longer he thinks, he realizes this current moment might be the last semblance of privacy he ever has, and scrambles to take advantage of the opportunity. His hand has just unbuckled his belt, the zipper on his pants halfway down, when you suddenly appear unannounced.

“Holy shit,” he yelps, covering his crotch with his hands. You pay him no attention, eyes flickering over the newly remodeled space. “Can you knock?!”

“Jungkook,” you say, dropping down to sit beside him on the ground. He hurries to close the front of his pants. “Are you upset with me?”

“No,” he drones, his last peaceful masturbation session slipping between his fingers. “I was actually quite horny before you broke in and gave me a heart attack.”

You frown, glancing at the front of his pants as if you’re just realizing you interrupted a very precious moment of his. “I didn’t realize,” you mumble apologetically, but Jungkook waves you off quickly.

“Forget it,” he sighs, leaning back on his palms. “What’s up with you, doll?” He asks instead, suddenly aware of the worried pinch between your brows, lips downturned as you regard him.

“Nothing,” you assure him, hands cutely folded into your lap. In another life, in another universe, he imagines you would have sat like that on a first date, fingers nervously fiddling with each other. “It’s just…” you hesitate, something he rarely sees you do. “I get the feeling you’re still upset with me for bringing Jimin and Yoongi back to Oleander,” you confess. “You skipped out on dessert.”

Frankly, he is.

Despite the talk you shared on the way back, Jungkook can’t help but feel bringing those two back was a bad idea.

Sure, they’ve encountered and invited other strays who’d reacted in similar states of distress, refusing to believe that sane, kind people still existed after the appearance of the entity. They’d lash out, hiss at Jungkook and the rest, until they reached a point in which they could calmly talk it through. People lose themselves after being in solitude for so long. Jungkook had only been alone for a little less than a month, and even then he remembers being terrified of you and the others.

But never had a stray pointed a gun at them, at you, and that’s what bothers Jungkook the most.

Part of him worries these guys aren’t the strays they claim to be, but masked members of another survivor camp here to take them over, kill them off. Realistically, they’re baseless worries. One of them is thin beyond belief, and the other had told them their whole life story the second they arrived back at the O. They don’t have that killer aura that the Magnolians have, and Jungkook wants to believe they by no means have the expertise to be specially trained assassins.

If anything, they’re just really cunning strays who happened to draw a lucky card when they got that gun.

On top of that uncertainty was the worry that stemmed from your actions both today and for the past year if he’s being honest.

He’s never questioned your motives for bringing someone back to the haven before, usually trusting in you to do what’s right. After all, Jungkook was hardly the poster boy of moral decisions, so he always left that up to you.

That being said, he feels… disappointed by your lack of logical thinking today. He understands that Yoongi and Jimin are just doing what they can to get by, something he would’ve done too if he was alone. But Jungkook isn’t as forgiving and empathetic as you, which is probably why he feels like this.

“I don’t think it was a good idea,” he admits, listening to the quiet inhale you draw in at his admission. “I get that they’re strays and all… I just think you need to be more careful.” It’s rich coming from him, probably the least cautious person at the base.

You nod, the same understanding one you’d given him on the trip back.

Jungkook knew you had a tender heart. You and Hoseok both did, hence the reason you established Oleander in the first place. Admittedly, Hoseok is even worse than you, which is the main reason he doesn’t go out on scavenging trips, choosing to keep watch over the people they already have.

Before you can reiterate your reasoning from the afternoon, Jungkook cuts you off. He catches your hand, turns it over to knot your fingers with his. “Babe, I need you to take care of yourself first,” he says, watches the befuddled expression that crosses your features.

You blink. “I do?” You defend, and it’s so weak Jungkook could cry.

He sighs, squeezes your hand in his. “You don’t,” he feels a little weird explaining the state of your thoughts to, well, you. “I get that you wanna keep everyone here safe, but what about yourself?”

You say nothing. The quiet bustling of the base outside fills the silence between you.

Jungkook looks away first, choosing to stare a hole into the tent walls before him. “I know you have this huge responsibility on you and that it’s a lot of pressure, __,” he murmurs quietly. “But it’s okay to ask for help, y’know?”

Beside him, your knees curl up into your chest, chin resting on them. You don’t let go of his hand, so he takes it as a sign to continue.

“What’s happening is scary,” he admits. “But you’re not going through this alone. I want you to tell me when things become too much for you,” he emphasizes.

The amount of times he’s seen you stretch yourself thin for this place was unreal. Jungkook liked Oleander as much as the next person, but occasionally he’d get hit with doubts. What would they do once the entity found them? Jungkook thinks he’d run. He’d take you and run far away, leaving this whole place behind. He’ll never tell you this, though, because he knew you loved Oleander too much. And if you didn’t, the responsibilities that tied you to it would never let you abandon the people like that anyway.

From between his fingers, he can feel your hand trembling. His heart throbs painfully in his chest. Jungkook wishes he could freeze this moment in time, keep the two of you inside this tent away from the crumbling world around you. In another life, in another universe, he reminds himself.

Eventually you let out a shaky exhale, eyes burning into the side of Jungkook’s face until he returns your gaze. Ever so quietly, you murmur, “Kook, I’m so scared.”

It’s the quietness of your confession, like you’re afraid admitting as much will lessen your credibility, that has him leaning forward, forehead knocking against yours gently.

“Oh, baby,” he frowns, doesn’t say a word when you throw yourself into his arms. Your face finds its home buried in the front of his shirt, shoulders shaking. He rubs your back soothingly, the same way you do to him every time he’s riled up, listening to the quiet sniffles that escape you.

“I don’t want people to get hurt,” you cry, your voice small and muffled against the front of his shirt.

His heart falters in his chest, suddenly realizing how small you are curled up in his arms. He can’t even begin to imagine the expression on your face, one you still hide from him, but he guesses it’s nothing less than glossy eyes and puffy face.

For the second time in the past year Jungkook’s known you, he gets a peek into your frail interior. A brief glance to see the woman who had watched the world around her crumble, all alone amidst wave after wave of deaths.

The city had been a horrible sight to see, but at least there he’d been comforted by the fact he was with a group of people he’d known and escaped with. It had been the first of many instances. For you, he can’t even fathom how you managed to pull yourself from the wreckage, maintain yourself until you found Hoseok.

“I’m sorry,” you choke, voice but a thin whisper he barely catches. He brushes you off, leaning his chin on the crown of your head as he continues to rub your back.

Eventually, you calm down.

The trembling of your body slows, and your muted cries disappear. When you lean away, Jungkook keeps his hands on your shoulders. Your eyes are still coated in a thin sheen of tears, the skin around flushed. Jungkook runs a knuckle along your cheekbone, following a faint trail of tears.

You rub the heel of your hand against your eye as you regain your composure. You don’t meet his eyes, but Jungkook doesn’t push. “Thank you, Jungkook,” you tell him, sniffling one last time. “I… really needed that.”

“Of course,” he murmurs, suddenly aware of how close you are. He could lean in and kiss you, but he doesn’t want you to think he’s taking advantage of your emotions. So he doesn’t.

You pat his cheek gently. He leans into the touch, eyes flickering over your bashful expression. “You were amazing today, Kook,” you quietly praise, and he’s never felt this light before. His cheeks flush red, the warmth slowly creeping up his face at your compliment.

Something in Jungkook has him leaning forward, puckered lips pressing against your temple. It’s only when his plush lips meet the skin of your forehead that he suddenly becomes aware of his actions. He stills, tries to find the perfect moment to pull away that will still make it seem friendly.

When his brain has dipped itself into frying oil three times over, it’s you who leans back with a soft smile on your features. You pat his knee once before standing up. “Actually, I heard something interesting today,” you mention, completely ignoring the redness of his face. “Follow me?”

“Anywhere,” he murmurs as he trails after you, passing the rowdy mess hall and the occasional group wandering about the grounds. Eventually you lead him into Seokjin’s medical tent, where Namjoon seems to be interrogating the hell out of Jimin. “What’s going on?” he asks, gaining everyone’s attention, and you motion towards where Jimin is babbling away.

“There they are,” Seokjin claps, “two experiments from the same lab.”

Jungkook flicks him on the forehead as he walks in, ignoring the sharp calling of his name coming from your mouth. “Not a lab experiment,” he defends, not that Seokjin cares. He squeezes around Jin, coming to stand beside Namjoon. Jimin is very quiet in his presence, probably still reflecting on their first meeting. Good, Jungkook thinks, he could drown in his guilt for all he cares.

“This guy says he knows where the new Magnolian base is set up,” Namjoon fills him in, eyeing Jimin. Jungkook doesn’t doubt it, after all, that’s apparently where they got their weapons from. Not that anyone besides you and Jungkook know that. “You believe him?”

Jungkook shrugs. He doesn’t know what to say, because none of you really suspected anyone would ask about Jimin and Yoongi’s origins after the lame story you had made up earlier. Jimin, it seems, is more of a chatterbox than he thought.

“I’m telling you, man,” he whines. “Me and Yoongs saw the damn camp. That’s where we—“

“-Were running from,” you intercept. Jungkook rolls his eyes at your feeble attempts at keeping a secret that was inevitably going to be found out. “Jimin and Yoongi were running from there when we found them.”

Jimin nods frantically. “It’s about twenty miles from here.”

Namjoon nods along, looking deep in thought as he ponders on what exactly that means for Oleander.

Jungkook can help. Basically, it means this: Magnolia setting up a camp in close range of Oleander can only be a result of one of two things:

Either they, A, are unaware that Oleander is in close range and most likely settled due to the various water sources around this area. When they eventually find its current inhabitants, they’ll undoubtedly attack on sight.

Or B, they have caught wind of Oleander’s presence here and have promptly come to, you guessed it, kill them all off just because they can. In both scenarios, Oleander remains at great risk, and everyone in the tent knows this.

“So now what?” He says more than asks, sensing they’ve all more or less reached the same conclusion.

Your foot taps against the ground, lower lip pulled taut between your teeth as you work through a dozen plans in your head.

Namjoon, ever the “wise man”, jumps to the forefront. “We have to do something about their base,” he says.

Jungkook laughs at that, plopping down beside Jimin. “Yeah, let’s just go run up on some psychos with no moral compass and kill them before they kill us. Except, wait—“ he exclaims with a little staged gasp, before leveling Namjoon with the most bored stare he can muster. “None of us have the guts to kill someone.”

Namjoon is very obviously flustered by Jungkook’s dry jab, looking at you to defend him. Jungkook simply brushes off the disapproving frown you send him.

“And when they realize we won’t kill them, guess what, guys?” he asks no one in particular, mimes someone breaking his neck. “We’re dead.”

Silence falls over the medical tent at his blunt descriptions.

Jungkook knows he’s being annoyingly pessimistic, but he can’t help it. His first encounter with Magnolia had left him bleeding at the mouth, body aching for weeks. Occasionally, he has nightmares about that day, about what would happen if you and your friends hadn’t shown up. In most of them, Jungkook’s mind conjures up violent scenes of his death.

You suck in a sharp breath that catches everyone’s attention. Straightening your spine, you step back into the middle of the space, hands on your hips like a superhero. “As much as I hate to admit it, Jungkook is right.” He grins in satisfaction. “Even if they’re not part of our community, I’m sure having too many people congregated in the same area will draw the Thing��s attention.” Finally, some logical thinking. “But,” you suddenly add, snatching that cocky smirk straight off his face. “That being said, I think it’s best if we look for ways to—“

“No,” he cuts off, surprising everyone in the room with his curt tone. He never outwardly disagreed with you before, always hyped up your ideas like you were the greatest person alive. You were in his eyes, but there was some plans even Jungkook thought were stupid. And given the fact this would be your second stupid plan of the day, he’s more than happy to go against you in front of the others. “It’s stupid.”

“Hey,” Seokjin chides, leveling him with a cold glare he hasn’t seen in a while. “Let her speak.”

“No,” Jungkook repeats, turning his attention back to you. You don’t look the slightest bit pleased with him, and he already knows this will lead to days of you ignoring him like the time he and some of the guys snuck down to the creek after curfew one night. “Baby, going there is reckless—you know this,” he emphasizes, can’t help the gentle way he explains this to you like you’re nothing but a child.

“You haven’t even heard my idea,” you snap angrily. It takes every nerve in Jungkook’s body to keep him from crumbling beneath your hardened gaze. He hates when you look at him like that. “You won’t even let me say what I’m thinking, but you already think it’s stupid.”

“Because it is!” he yells, startling the other men in the tent. “Someone could get seriously hurt, and you know this,” he seethes, suddenly feeling like that whole heart-to-heart moment at his tent meant nothing to you. He deflates, rubs at his temples as if to rid him of the headache pounding behind his skull. “Doll, these are the Magnolians,” he murmurs. “They won’t just threaten you with a gun like Yoongi and Jimin, they will kill you on the spot.”

There’s a shared look of surprise between Seokjin and Namjoon at the news, and Jimin shifts nervously beside him. Jungkook could care less about his slip up, too engrossed in the way your lips pinch up indignantly.

“Fine,” you sneer. “Whatever we do, I’ll make sure to leave you off the list.” And with that, you’re exiting the tent with an angry tug against the door flaps.

A beat of silence as they all stare after you in shock. Jungkook has never been left off the list of scavengers.

“Kook,” Seokjin goes to soothe him, but he's already slipping out of the tent, eyes wildly scanning over the dark perimeter of the base in search of you. He finds you stomping in the direction of your tent, a small thing pressed against the side of the armory.

The ache in his knee be damned as he sprints across the clearing, narrowly avoiding the people who are still out. He catches you just as you duck inside, tearing the flap of your tent wide open.

You jump in surprise, but quickly pull on an expression of annoyance as he towers over you, arms crossing over your chest defensively.

“What did you say?” he seethes, letting the flap fall shut behind him, shrouding the two of you in darkness.

“I said you’re off the list,” you snap without missing a beat, anger rolling off you in waves. “Since you hate my ideas so much, your ass can stay here.”

Jungkook exhales loud and hard, stepping closer to you until you’re nose to nose. “I’m not off the fucking list,” he announces, jaw twitching. You go to retort, pushing him away with a palm flat on his chest that he catches in a flash, tugging you forward until you’re stumbling into his chest. You gape in shock at the hand that tightens around your waist, Jungkook’s steely eyes aiming to pierce into your soul. “If you wanna be stupid and break into the Magnolia base that’s fine by me,” he hisses, “but don’t think for a second I’d ever let you go without me, understood?”

You struggle in his arms. “I never said I wanted that,” you snarl, pushing yourself off and away from him. “But you wouldn’t know that because you wouldn’t even listen to me.”

Jungkook’s arms tighten around your waist, refusing to let you run straight into the hands of danger. “Maybe I would listen if you weren’t always trying to off yourself,” he barks, narrowly avoiding your elbow when you begin flailing in his arms.

“Jungkook— let me go!” you huff, growing more upset the longer he holds on to you. “I don’t wanna talk to you right now.”

He ignores you.

But he greatly underestimated your strength, which ends up being a huge mistake. He had watched you toss Yoongi over your shoulder just this afternoon, so he should’ve known better than anyone about the adrenaline-fueled feats you can do when you’re riled up.

You still, deluding him into thinking you’ve calmed down enough for him to loosen his grip. It’s in that tiny moment of weakness that you strike, wrapping your arms around his waist and throwing the two of you to the side. Luckily, you’re not blinded by fury enough to destroy your own tent, and end up slamming him against the wooden wall of the armory that sits flush to one side of your tent.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, the intensity of the push having a bounce back effect. He staggers forward, arms still around your waist, until the both of you stumble into the ground in a mess of limbs. You yelp at the heavy weight of his body on you, and Jungkook only has half a mind to roll off. “Oh fuck,” he groans, rubbing the back of his head.

The way you’d surged the two of you, him backwards, into the wall had left him vastly unprepared, skull slamming painfully into the wood. That on top of the good thwack Jimin had given him earlier with the pipe had his vision spotting now.

“Jungkook?” you call, shuffling to your knees over him, all traces of anger gone as worry floods over you.”Jungkook, oh my god,” you choke, sitting him up slowly, but given the fragile state of his head it seems fast anyway. The movement makes his head spin like a carousel. He’ll definitely need to see Seokjin for this. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t think you’d hit your head,” you cry, fluttering around your tent for something to give him. “Here, drink this,” you intrude, thrusting a water bottle into his hand.

He takes it in one hand, rolling his head around once. “Shit, babe, calm down. I’m not dying,” he cracks, though it ends in a groan. He definitely needed to sleep this off.

His joke only makes you more upset, and you lean forward to brush his hair from his face until your beautifully bothered expression is looking down over him. “No,” you groan, “please don’t try to make me feel better. That was a horrible thing for me to do.”

You tug him to his feet, Jungkook wincing at the sudden motion. “Yeah, that was pretty shitty,” he agrees, letting you throw an arm over your shoulders as you guide him out of the tent.

In all honesty the pain had subsided the second he’d sat up. Now he was just left with a slight pounding behind his temples, like a headache on steroids, but he played soccer his whole life; he knows when an injury was serious. This just seems like a mild concussion at most.

Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to milk every second of this. He leans into your side, your arm tightening around his waist.

“You know what’s even more shitty, though?” he prompts. You hum, more concerned with getting him to the safety of his tent. The base is mostly silent now, and the forest surrounding the camp is eerily dark. All the squirrels and rabbits they see during the day have gone to sleep, the only sound being that of the occasional owl hoot. The only people Jungkook sees are the ones on night duty sporadically standing around the perimeter of Oleander. Jungkook doesn’t answer right away, lets you sit in suspense, before announcing, “leaving someone off the list.”

You groan, finally stopping inside his tent. Upon getting closer, he’s reminded of his new roommate waiting for him inside, loud snores surely keeping everyone in a twenty foot radius awake. “I’m sorry,” you frown, moving to stand in front of him. The weight of your apology feels like you’re sorry for multiple things at once. Normally he would press, but you look like you’re about to cry just from upsetting Jungkook. For some reason he gets some twisted excitement from seeing you so torn up over him.

He shakes his head, lets the hair you pushed off his forehead fall back into place. “Don’t worry about it,” he assures you, reaching up to cup the side of your face like you did to him earlier. You lean into the touch, covering his hand with your own. Jungkook’s heart swells.

How could such a pretty little thing be this reckless? he thinks, watching the lashes that tickle your skin with every blink. “Go to bed, doll,” he commands, and you nod cutely, like a bobblehead. “Be stupid again tomorrow.”

He’s rewarded with a soft kick against his shin, a tiny smile curling around your features. “Okay,” you concede, fingers tracing over his knuckles as he finally pulls away. You watch him get into his tent, stay put until he’s glancing at you through the flaps to get moving. “Goodnight, Jungkook,” you make sure to say, waving goodbye as you begin walking back in the direction you came from.

It would’ve been the perfect night, mild concussion and all, if he had been able to truly savor your expressions that day. Instead, he goes to bed with a half hard cock and a snoring bear beside him.

#goldenclosetnet #networkbangtan #ksmutclub #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fic #jjk smut #mine #ahHHHHHHH!!!!!

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gamerwoo · 4 years ago

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[The Pack Next Door] Mingi: Friends with Benefits (Part Two)

(photo edit courtesy of @songmingki)

Characters: Mingi x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, friends to lovers au, angst but not like hard angst it’s kinda mild tbh, lil bit of fluff

Word count: 1,913

Summary: Growing up, you and Mingi were inseparable. You’d been friends your entire life and, as far as you knew, things were never any different. But what you don’t know is that Mingi imprinted on you when he was 15 and first turned into a werewolf, and he had been trying to keep it a secret ever since. And with the awful timing of mating season, he’s hoping he can somehow keep the facade up.

Tags: @sakura-uji @xummie @peachy-hoon @psshwa @uglyratlmao @uwu-yifan

Previous | Next | Friends with Benefits Masterlist

Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and San had come home from classes together, walking through the front door as the two older boys scolded San about his grades. They walked down the hall and past the living room where you and Mingi were sitting on the couch, watching TV. One of your legs was flung over the arm of the couch as you leaned into Mingi, while your best friend was simply sitting straight beside you, keeping his eyes trained on the TV. You saw out of the corner of your eye the three boys barely glance over at you as the kept walking out of sight, before backing up and looking into the living room at the scene.

“What is he doing?” San whispered loud enough for his friends to hear -- they could hear way better than you thanks to their sharp senses -- but quiet enough that you didn’t hear a thing.

“Being a fucking moron,” Seonghwa replied.

You turned your head to look at the audience you now had, “Can I help you?”

Mingi’s eyes had flickered from where he was trying so hard to concentrate on the show, to his brothers. They could hear how fast his heart was beating and see the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, the way his hands clenched on his thighs, and the way he was basically straining himself to sit still.

Mating season was starting soon for him.

“Uh..._____,” Hongjoong stepped forward with his usual sweet smile, “do you wanna play some soccer in the backyard? I have some extra energy I need to burn.”

“Oh, hell yeah!” you grinned as you jumped up from your spot on the couch. You looked down at your best friend, “Mingi, you wanna ref?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he told you, trying to come across as completely normal.

But there was something off about him.

Still, you shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

Then you followed Hongjoong out to the backyard.

As soon as you were gone, Seonghwa marched up to Mingi, grabbing the younger boy by his shirt and pulling him to his feet. Despite having height on the older boy, Seonghwa wasn’t afraid because he knew he had authority over Mingi.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Seonghwa demanded.

“Yes,” San answered for him with a nod.

This definitely wasn’t the first time Mingi had to go through rut and not let you know. But it seemed this time for some reason, he was being a little too bold for the pack’s liking. It was clear he was having some difficulty being so close to you -- thank god mating season hadn’t actually started for him or there would’ve been nothing to keep him from pouncing on you -- and that was just because he was so close to mating season starting. He definitely had balls to hang out with you alone so close to that time of year where he had to be away from you.

“Hwa, I was fine!” Mingi insisted, holding up his hands in surrender.

“You didn’t look fine,” San interjected, Mingi shooting him a glare to keep out of this.

“What if you hurt her, huh?” Seonghwa demanded. “What if you couldn’t fight the instinct? What if you did something bad to her?”

Mingi whined, “I wasn’t going to!”

“But you could’ve,” Seonghwa stated, giving Mingi a solid shake. “You can’t just act fine and then everything is fine. You can’t pull that shit this close to mating season.”

Seonghwa finally let the younger wolf go, and he frowned as he straightened out his shirt, “What are you, the alpha?”

“No,” Seonghwa offered him a tight smile, “but I know Joong is going to have a lot to say to you, too.”

Even though Hongoong never really had to deal with mates before -- even though he’d known you for a few years now but you weren’t properly Mingi’s mate -- he knew it was in his best interest to keep you safe rather than go deal with Mingi. That was why he chose to remove you from the situation and let Seonghwa deal with the younger wolf who clearly had some sort of lapse in judgement. Hongjoong definitely understood that Mingi had to act normally to keep their secret from you, but he didn’t need to take it that far. He should’ve just not invited you over.

“How many wins is that?” you chuckled as you lightly kicked the ball between your feet, quickly an eyebrow at Hongjoong.

He laughed, shaking his head, “Look, you did this for seven years. I’ve only casually played since I met you.”

“Yeah, you launched the ball straight into Wooyoung’s head the first day I met you,” you recalled with a loud laugh.

“But I’ve gotten better at not doing that,” he said proudly, spreading out in the goal to -- hopefully -- catch the ball.

Before you could even swing your leg back to kick the ball, the door opened and San shouted, “Hey!”

The two of you looked over, you lifting your baseball cap to run a hand through your hair before putting it back on your head as you squinted against the sun to see San in the doorway.

“Mingi wanted me to tell you he isn’t feeling well,” San called. “We brought him upstairs to bed but you probably shouldn’t bother him.”

You frowned with a sigh, nodding your head, “Yeah, alright. Thanks, San.”

Even though he could hear the slight disappointment in your voice, San nodded and went back inside.

“You okay?” Hongjoong wondered, resting his stance.

You let out air between your lips, your lips flapping like a horse for a few seconds as you tried to gather your thoughts, “Mingi always has something going on where he just disappears like, twice a year. He has since he ran away our freshman year of high school. I kind of expected it to happen again but it like, always happens. I dunno, I’m just worried, I guess.”

Hongjoong frowned. He knew you cared about Mingi, and he should’ve figured you would catch onto it after a while. He used to always use the fact he was ‘sick’ as an excuse, but he had to get more creative when you begged him to see a doctor his senior year since he was always getting really sick twice a year. It then became ‘I’m a counselor at a week-long sleepaway camp’ or ‘I’m going skiing with my friends’ or things like that. Anything where he could avoid you for about a week until he was feeling normal again. Because if you were around him while he was in rut, he would have zero self control and would pin you against anything and go crazy. That was the last thing any of them wanted.

“He’s just...” Hongjoong trails off as his eyes find Mingi’s window from the backyard, though the blinds are pulled shut so neither of you can see inside.

But Hongjoong already knows that Seonghwa has probably dragged him up to his bedroom and ordered him to stay there until the alpha comes in to scold him for being so careless with you. But he also knows staying away from your mate is difficult -- not that he knows personally but he’s heard.

And Hongjoong never finishes his sentence because honestly, he’s not really sure what to say.

You finish your game of soccer with Hongjoong early because you decide you’re not really in the mood to play anymore. You’re not really an emotional kind of person, but anyone can tell you’re bummed out because of Mingi. You know things will go back to normal after a week, but you just wish you understood why this pattern kept happening. What happened to Mingi when he ran away?

Honestly, your best bet was that he joined a cult.

As you were leaving the house, Jongho was getting out of his car, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. He smiled at you as you passed by him to get to your car.

“Mingi’s girlfriend leaving so soon?” he joked -- well, as far as you knew.

Did you feel a little different toward Mingi ever since he came back freshman year, yes? You kind of thought maybe it was because you were afraid of losing him again, but it had stuck around until college, and that was a little weird to you. Still, you never said anything to him because you two had been best friends since you were babies. The two of you were voted ‘best partners in crime’ and ‘should’ve dated’ -- the latter was a little awkward since you were dating someone else at the time -- when you were seniors because of how close you were. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship because you were pretty sure he didn’t feel the same. He probably saw you as a sister. So you left things alone.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes with a playful smile, “Eat a dick, dude.”

His friends often teased you for being his ‘girlfriend’, and Mingi typically responded in the same fashion. But the teasing continued because his friends knew that while it embarrassed Mingi, it was the only way they could hint at how he felt about you.

“Why’re you leaving?” Jongho asked, turning around to keep talking to you. “You usually stay longer.”

You looked over your shoulder, this time rolling your eyes in a less playful way, “Mingi’s sick.”

“...Oh,” he nodded, already understanding the situation. “Well, uh, we could hang out tomorrow after classes if you want? Maybe go get slushies at the gas station or something?”

Even though Mingi’s friends would never replace him, they had become your friends since you were around them so often. And whenever Mingi was away, they always offered to do things with you like go to the arcade or get pizza at the beach or something.

You shrugged, unlocking your car and opening the door, “We’ll see.”

After waving a quick goodbye, Jongho went into the house. He could hear Hongjoong raising his voice a little at Mingi from outside, but he had drowned it out so he could converse with you. But now that he was inside and saw Seonghwa and San sitting on the couch watching the show that you and Mingi had left on, he was more intrigued.

“Mingi started mating season already?” he wondered.

From upstairs, he heard the wolf in question reply, “I did not!”

“You’re too close to it to have _____ around,” Hongjoong reminded him, his voice also traveling from upstairs.

It was true, it was supposed to start really soon. Nobody could ever place the exact day, but they kept track of around what times in the year it happened. It was like having your period but minus the blood -- for males, anyway -- and with a lot more sexual aggression.

“So the excuse this time is that he’s sick?” Jongho asked before adding on, “Again?”

“What did you want me to say?” Seonghwa asked. “They were sitting on the couch together so it was the only thing that made sense. I couldn’t say he suddenly went off on vacation, now could I?”

“We always keep _____ away from the house, anyway,” San shrugged, waving the problem away. “It’ll be fine. She never questions it, anyway.”

“She will question it eventually,” Seonghwa pointed out. “We can’t keep this up forever, and neither can Mingi.”

302 notes · View notes

s0seo · 4 years ago

Text

The Heir Chapter 1

Pairing: OT7 x Reader WC: 3755

Rating: M

Genre: Vampire au with lots of angst and eventual fluff and smut

Summary: After you and your friend are attacked during a night out, you discover a world much bigger and more dangerous than you could have ever imagined.

WARNINGS: 18+, Lots of blood, swearing, assault, death of Minor character

A/n: I really want to thank @noonaduck @autumns-sweaters @solitudiante for beta reading this and helping me get this where it needed to be. I hope you all enjoy!

You see the seconds on the clock counting down, your heart pounding in your chest.

5, 4, 3, your favorite team is only two points down and is trying to beat the buzzer.

The player throws the ball past half court and into the hands of his teammate who turns to throw from the three-point line. As he shoots the ball you feel time slow down and you hold your breath.

2, 1 you see the ball flying, barely hitting the rim of the basket before falling through the net just as the buzzer sounds. The stadium erupts in cheers and you smile. You knew bringing him to this game was a good idea. Looking to your friend standing next to you, you can tell by his gummy smile that he feels the same. Still facing him, you glance again at the scoreboard.

“What did I say Yoongs? Never bet against Daegu.” He rolls his eyes and retorts, “I wasn’t doubting. I just said they were cutting it close.”

You stay in your seats for a few minutes while you wait for the stadium to clear out a bit. Deciding now would be the perfect time to order your Uber, you put in your order and see a few different messages from your other friends. Leaning back in your seat, you gesture to Yoongi to wait a moment while you respond to each one.

The first one you see is from Namjoon.

Namjoon: How’s the game going? Are you guys having fun?

Y/N: Sorry, I didn’t hear my phone go off. Yeah, the game was great! It was super loud though, but I think Yoongi enjoyed it too.

Next you see a few messages from Jin.

Jin: Hey text me when the game is over and we can probably meet up for drinks

Jin: Scratch that I went ahead and picked up a shift for tomorrow morning and you know I need my beauty sleep. Maybe next time!

Y/N: No worries! Just let me know when you’re free and we can hang out.

You see that you have a message from Jungkook as well

Jungkook: Hey me and the others were thinking about heading to my dad’s club next weekend, you in?

Y/N: I’m alright. Honestly, I’m not a big fan of clubs.

Y/N: Thanks for the invite though. Maybe we can do something else.

You’re beginning to wonder why they don't just message you through the group chat when you see a new notification.

Hobi: I need your help applying for some of these scholarships for next semester. I have to write a few letters and you know how bad my writing is.

Hobi: Please???

Y/N: Don’t worry about it. You free next week? How many letters do you need?

Finally, you see one last unanswered message.

Jimin: Tae and I were thinking about going to the beach tomorrow, wanna join us? Ask Yoongi too!

You look over at Yoongi and catch him browsing his phone as well, already knowing what his answer is going to be.

Y/N: Definitely! I don’t think Yoongs will come though. You know he doesn’t really like being outside.

Y/N: I think he’s supposed to visit his parents next week so let’s try to go then instead?

Y/N: Would you be willing to wait for me?

Rising out of your seat, you place your phone in your pocket and say to Yoongi as you stretch,

“I think the crowd has died down enough.”

He nods to you in response as he lets out a small yawn, and you can tell he’s getting tired.

“C’mon let's head out,” you say as you start your climb up the stairs towards the exit. You look back and continue with the suggestion, “let’s grab a few drinks to celebrate and head home. After all, it’s not every day my best friend turns 25.”

You are only met with a grunt which you consider translates to “that’s a great idea,” and finish your climb in silence,

As you reach the top of the stairs, you see that even the thinned crowd is still a giant mass of people.

‘So much for an easy exit,’ you think to yourself as you turn to Yoongi and see from his face that he’s thinking the exact same thing.

You realize that when you had the idea to take him to his first professional basketball game to celebrate his birthday, you didn’t take into consideration how crowded it was going to be when the game was over. Taking his hand, you lean close to him.

“Stay close. I’m gonna try and make a path for us.”

You then pull him along and start forcing your way through the crowd. When both of you finally make it out of the building, you lean against the wall, close your eyes, and breathe, thankful for the fresh air filling your lungs. From the sound to your left you can tell that Yoongi is doing the same.

You both really hate crowds, and you realize that this was probably the largest amount of people you two have been around in years. You pull out your phone to see how far away your Uber is, thankful that the app only says five minutes. ‘Good,’ you think to yourself, ‘I knew it was a good idea to wait until the stadium cleared a bit. This traffic is terrible.’ You look over to Yoongi and ask, “so, how do you feel? Did you have fun tonight?”

You knew when you bought the tickets that he wasn’t a fan of large crowds or loud noises, neither of you were, but you hope that he at least had fun seeing his favorite team in real life tonight. He looks away for a moment, forming his response.

“I really liked it. I’ve always wanted to come to one of these. Growing up you know my family never really had money, and basketball was sort of my way of escaping my reality. Even though I wasn’t the tallest or the fastest, playing gave me a sense of control that I wished I had over other parts of my life, so thank you.”

You understand, remembering how much his family was struggling financially when you became friends. How he struggled with his parents and his dreams of playing basketball and becoming a music producer. You lean into him and say, “I’m happy that I could make your birthday a good one.”

You look away, garnering your courage to admit what you have been wanting to say all night. “Honestly, I was a little worried about the noise and the crowd, but I’m glad we could do something together. It’s been a while since we spent some time together without all the others, you know.”

He smiles to himself, knowing just how you feel. He thinks for a moment about just how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life, someone who he doesn’t have to explain himself to and understands his way of thinking even better than he does sometimes. He quietly whispers under his breath too low for you to hear, “this is the best birthday I could’ve hoped for,” and looks away to the cars still exiting the parking lot. You both stand there in silence for a while, leaning on each other, lost in your own thoughts while waiting for the Uber to arrive.

You reflect on how far your relationship has come. Growing up together you both continuously saw each other grow into the people you were today. You remember how excited he was when he made the basketball team and the pride he developed for his position as shooting guard. He remembered how proud you were when you became the top student in your class and how your classmates referred to the both of you as “the dream team” dominating sports and academics.

He was good at every sport he set his mind to, basketball, soccer, and tennis. You worked hard to be at the top of your class while also being captain of your school’s debate team, math team and foreign language program.

You let out a sigh as you think about your other friends. You knew they wanted to join you tonight, but you could only manage to grab two tickets before the others sold out. You were lucky you even got these. You glance over at your friend, and you’re pretty sure his level of disappointment at it only being the two of you isn’t that high.

You and Yoongi first met them your junior year of high school after one of the other school districts was forced to shut down its campus due to a lack of funding, and yours was forced to merge with it.

Along with over 150 other students who would now compete with you and your best friend, came six others who would later become the people who knew you better than your own family. Jimin, Namjoon, Jin, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Hoseok were all strangers you both found yourselves competing against constantly.

Yoongi often found himself competing with Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin for captain positions, and you found yourself having to fight tooth and nail to beat Namjoon, Jin, and Jungkook as well for the top spots in your clubs. The only two you didn’t have a problem with were Taehyung and Hoseok. That was until Yoongi decided to try out for the dance team and you developed an interest in photography.

Stuck together for hours and hours, you soon realized that although you were all different people you all actually had a lot in common besides your clubs.

You were all passionate about your dreams of success and you all agreed to help each other succeed any way you could. You came to a compromise that allowed everyone to succeed while always pushing each other to do their best.

His friendship with the others wasn’t as close as yours was. Even though you were all like a family to each other, you couldn’t help but feel like each of them grew closer to you than they had each other.

You shrug to yourself, not really feeling up to analyzing your friendships tonight, but looking over at Yoongi, you know he’s already thinking of how to tell the others how much he enjoyed tonight without making it seem like he had fun without them, and you wish that he felt like he could be more honest with how he feels sometimes.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket pulling you out of your thoughts, and you see that your ride has finally arrived. “Come on,” you say to Yoongi, grabbing his attention with a nudge of your shoulder.

“Let’s get something to drink then call it a night.”

Deciding to head to your regular bar, you and Yoongi order your drinks and take a seat in your regular booth towards the back.

After drinking your way through a4 bottles of soju, you think it is about time for the both of you to head out. You order another Uber and head to the bathroom, telling Yoongi to just wait for you outside.

Making your way out of the bar your head begins to spin and you chide yourself for not grabbing food before coming. You stumble outside and look around, not spotting Yoongi anywhere.

You could’ve sworn you saw him come out here before you went to the bathroom. You pull out your phone and text him.

Y/N: where are you

Seeing no response, you check the arrival time of your Uber and see it’s still a few minutes away.

You pull up Yoongi’s number and call him. The first call goes straight to voicemail and you curse as you dial his number again. This time even though you don’t get an answer you hear his phone ringing nearby. Searching for the source of the sound, you turn the corner and see his lit-up phone ringing on the ground in the alleyway.

It’s hard to see given that the only light is coming from a dimly lit bulb above the door on the side of the building, but it’s only a few feet away.

You look around and call out for him, already feeling yourself beginning to sober up as your heart begins to pound in your chest.

“Yoongi? Are you out here? Are you okay?” You take a deep breath and begin walking into the alley, becoming very aware of how quiet it has gotten.

Seeing nothing but a dumpster, some empty bottles, and some trash bags you reach down for his phone and pick it up. The screen is cracked, but you can see that it still works.

You glance around once more and realize how sketchy this feels.

Deciding to turn back you think to yourself ‘he probably just dropped his phone out here before going back inside or something.’

Your thoughts are interrupted however when you hear a bang against the dumpster. You turn around, and you hear it again though this time it’s quieter. You turn on your phone’s flashlight and quietly walk towards the dumpster, ready to run away if you need to. As you get closer you hear what sounds like a person moaning.

You dim your flashlight, turn the corner of the dumpster, and you freeze. What you see makes you want to scream.

Yoongi is lying on the ground against the wall covered in blood. He is being pinned down by a man dressed in black. Yoongi’s eyes slowly blink at you.

‘You have to help him! You have to help him’ your thoughts scream at you. You have to be smart though, you realize. Judging by his form, you can already tell that he is much bigger than you.

You look around for something, anything that you could use to save your friend. The man hasn’t seemed to notice you yet, but you know Yoongi can’t last much longer, not with the amount of blood he’s lost.

Deciding that your best option is to hit the man off of Yoongi, you quietly reach down for the biggest bottle you can find, and sneak up behind him before bringing it down on his head as hard as you can.

You see him lean forward, startled and injured by the unexpected attack, and you hit him again, this time reaching forward and pulling him off of your friend.

He seems to be knocked out.

You crouch down in front of Yoongi and look around for help. Out of the corner of your eye you see a person walking near the road at the end of the alley.

“Hey! Call an ambulance! Call the police, hurry!” you yell out to them and see them quickly run back towards the entrance of the bar.

You breathe a sigh of relief before looking back at your friend to inspect his wounds. You can already tell that he has two large gashes: one on his right side and one on his shoulder near his neck, and so much blood.

You can see his short breaths fogging up the cold night.

Reaching for his face, you whisper to him, already feeling your tears beginning to fall.

“Yoongs, it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

Receiving no response, you say again, “Yoongs? Yoongi, can you hear me?”

You look at his wounds again and place your hands on them, hoping to stop any further bleeding until the ambulance arrives.

Suddenly you feel your entire body jerked backwards. You hear a crack as your body forcefully slams into the brick wall of the building. Feeling your breath leave your lungs, you gasp for air. Tasting copper on your tongue, you realize that your nose has started to bleed and reach up to touch the back of your head with your fingertips, only to realize that you’re bleeding from there as well.

You look up and see the blurry shape of the man glaring down at you.

His face looks angry and he is bleeding along the side right where you hit him earlier. “YOU!” he seethes in recognition as he brings his face near yours, already looking forward to repaying you for the wound on his head and growls at you. “They said to bring you in in one piece, but I don’t think a few scrapes would hurt.”

None of what he’s saying is making any sense to you right now.

‘Who is this man,’ you wonder. ‘Why does he seem to know you?’

Desperately glancing behind him at Yoongi you feel more tears fall. You realize that he’s losing too much blood. He probably won’t make it out of this; neither of you will.

You look at the man as he brings his hand to your throat, and you reach your arms out searching for anything that could help you. You feel your fingers graze the broken neck of a bottle as your vision starts to fade, and you know what you have to do.

Placing your free hand on his arm, you choke out “why are you doing this?”

Your nails are digging deep enough to draw blood now. “Because,” he says lifting you up by the throat as he brings his face close to yours once again, “you ruined everything. More importantly, you pissed me off.”

He looks you in the eyes and you see him pause before licking his bottom lip and bringing his face towards the left side of your head. You can faintly hear sirens in the distance.

Realizing that now is your chance, you bring your right hand upwards sharply and stab him in the neck with the bottle. You twist it in deeper, feeling his blood cover your hand and spray across your face. You hear him let out a scream as he staggers away from you and pulls the bottle out of his neck.

You see blood pouring out of his wound as he rushes forward and slams you against the wall for a second time.

You feel a sharp pain in your right side before you see him stagger away towards the end of the alley. You slide down the wall, your breathing shallow, and your hand trembles as it makes its way to your side.

Bringing your fingers up to your face, you can see that they are covered in blood.

You see that his blood has soaked into your shirt, and you weakly drag yourself over to Yoongi’s now barely conscious body, your tears falling slowly.

You notice the bleeding from the wound on his side has slowed down immensely, and you understand that it’s because he’s running out of blood to lose.

You whisper out to him, your vocal cords crying out in pain from the man’s grip,

“Yoongi? Please look at me... Yoongi!” You reach out and check his pulse, choking out a sob as you realize it’s too weak to feel.

You move one trembling hand and press it against your still bleeding side while your other hand makes its way to the wound on his neck.

After what feels like hours you finally see the flashing lights of the ambulance. You move your hand from your side to cup Yoongi’s face and see his eyes fall to your face as he looks into your eyes and blinks slowly.

” Yoongi”, you whisper as you feel yourself begin to black out, “please be okay,” you barely manage your last word before your eyes shut and you fall forward against him.

A few blocks away...

The man staggers through the empty alleyway, clutching his neck hoping to slow the blood loss. He was lucky that he drained as much of that kid’s blood as he had, otherwise the wound would have killed him.

What was he thinking? He had one job. One job: find the girl and bring her to the abandoned studio. One job, and he couldn’t even do that.

He knew that he shouldn’t have bitten that kid, but he just couldn’t help himself, it had been weeks since he last drank anything.

That bitch ruined everything. If she had just stayed inside a little bit longer, he would have sucked the kid dry and taken her without anyone noticing.

He didn’t understand what was so special about her anyways. The only thing not unmentionably plain about her was her eyes.

They weren’t beautiful or anything, but he couldn’t help but look at them and once he did, he couldn’t convince himself to tear his gaze away.

Shrugging off the thought, he makes his way to the meeting point.

Hearing the faint sound of sirens in the distance, he quickly ducks inside the dark building and hopes that his client is feeling benevolent.

He moves his hand from his neck and sees that his wound has already started to heal. Releasing a heavy sigh, he checks the wound on his head and finds it fully healed. The only evidence left is the dried blood it produced.

He walks down the quiet hallway and opens the first door to his right just as instructed. However, when he enters the room there is nobody there.

Looking at his phone he checks the time remembering that he was supposed to arrive by 1:30 am. He sees that it reads 2:00 am.

‘Shit,’ he thinks to himself. ‘They probably already left.’

Walking further into the room, he begins planning his next move when suddenly he hears the door slam closed and feels a presence behind him followed by a hand wrapping around his throat.

“So,” the figure says from behind him, their voice sounding like a whisper brought by a phantom wind.

“Not only did you fail to deliver the girl, but you also managed to leave an entire shitstorm in your wake as well. There was a reason the word ‘quietly’ was included in your instructions.”

The man gasps for air and tries to respond but only manages to let out a grunt.

The figure releases its grip on the man, and the man sinks to his knees, gasping for air while clutching his neck.

“I’m sorry” he rasps,” Just tell the brotherhood I’ll get her for sure next time.”

The figure lets out a huff before walking around the man.

He stops just in front of the man’s bent knees and lifts him by the throat once more, this time squeezing tighter.

“There won’t be a next time,” the figure whispers before breaking the man’s neck and walking away.

167 notes · View notes

allsassnoclass · 4 years ago

Text

I’ll be sad without you (I want you to have it all)

Pairing: Michael Clifford/Ashton Irwin

Rating: Teen and Up (for one instance of swearing lol)

Key Tags: college AU, graduation, bittersweet

Word Count: 3,373

part of the mashton college au

Read on AO3

Ashton graduates college. Michael tries to be happy for him.

The night before he graduates, Michael gets Ashton all to himself.

The week leading up to commencement has been filled with the end of finals, Michael working or sitting around twiddling his thumbs, and everyone that Ashton has ever met at college scrambling to see him one last time before he graduates and is off to bigger and better things. Everyone has suddenly realized what Michael has been trying to forget for the entire semester: Ashton is about to leave and they might never see him again.

Michael knows that he’s being a bit dramatic. They’re dating, so of course Michael will see Ashton again. He only lives two and a half hours away from campus, so he can come down and visit next year while Michael is still taking classes or Michael can take a break and swing by to see him, although staying overnight would mean that he has to stay with all of the Irwins since Ashton is going to live at home until Michael graduates and can move in with him. He has a job as a grant writer for a nonprofit in the next town over and figured he’d save up rather than live by himself, and with how much he missed his family this semester Michael thinks that’s a good idea.

Michael has spent a lot of nights this week in Ashton’s dorm or dragging Ashton back to his apartment to get as much time with him as possible. It’s even lonelier now that Calum has gone back home to visit before heading off to an internship in St. Louis for the summer, the space far too quiet when he’s the only one home. Michael is staying on campus this time. He’s one of the main employees at the campus recording studio now and he got a job at the one of the town grocery stores restocking overnight, and since he’s paying for the apartment through next year he might as well make use of it. It means he’s a little further away from Ashton than he would be if he was home, but that’s fine. They can make it work. He keeps telling himself that things could be so much worse, but it doesn’t make him feel better.

“Hey,” Ashton says, breaking him out of his thoughts with a gentle knuckle against Michael’s cheek. They turned the lights off a while ago since Ashton needs to be up early, but neither of them are that tired. They’ve simply been laying together, Michael’s head tucked into the crook of Ashton’s elbow, hands resting between them.

“What are you thinking about?” Ashton asks. Michael sighs. He knows that this is supposed to be a happy occasion, especially since Ashton fought so hard to make it to college and is managing to graduate with so many accolades, but the truth is that he’s really fucking sad.

“Next year,” he says. “I’ve never known college without you. I don’t know how to do it by myself.”

“Hey, you won’t be by yourself,” Ashton says gently. “You’ve got Calum and Luke still.”

��You know what I mean.”

Ashton hums. There isn’t anything for him to say here and they both know it. Michael has spent the entire week pretending to be excited for Ashton, something that he’ll have to do again tomorrow morning, but the facade is breaking and trying to fix it now is only going to make things worse later. He smiled while Ashton was seeing all of his other friends for the last time, he smiled when Ashton finished his last final ever and returned his books for the last time, and he smiled while he was helping Ashton pack up his dorm room for the last time, working quietly because Ashton needed a moment to process that this was actually happening. He’s usually the problem-solver of them, always beginning whatever tasks need to be done while Michael gets overwhelmed and freezes, but packing had been a stumbling-block. It was the only instance this week that has made Michael think that Ashton could feel bittersweet about graduating, too.

“I’ll be happier tomorrow, I promise,” Michael says. “I’m just going to miss you.”

Ashton pulls him closer, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek and then rearranging them so they’re tangled together fully. Michael wishes he could sink into Ashton and stay with him after tomorrow, continuing their life without any distance between them. Ashton takes a deep breath, chest rising and falling under Michael.

“I’m not going to propose to you tomorrow, because I think graduation proposals are overdone and cliche and we are not confined to any timeline, but it’s me and you forever, yeah? It’s always going to be me and you. A year is nothing compared to the rest of our lives.”

Michael nods. He takes a deep breath, too, because he promised himself not to cry in front of Ashton. He doesn’t speak until the tears stop prickling the corners of his eyes.

“I know. I’m still going to miss you, though.”

Ashton doesn’t say anything else, just pulls him impossibly closer and presses another kiss to the side of his head. Michael tries to push everything inside him down, tries not to ruin the last night he and Ashton will have together for a while, but he’s not sure how successful he is.

-/-

Ashton’s alarm goes off at 6:45, which Michael thinks should be illegal.

“Why are you graduating so early,” he groans as Ashton reaches over him to turn the alarm off. Ashton huffs a laugh, making Michael crack an eye open to catch a glimpse of him in the morning light. He’s breathtaking even though he has pillow creases on his face and half of his hair is flattened against the side of his head. Michael is going to miss him so much it hurts.

“Stay in bed a bit,” he says, wrapping his arms around him again and pressing his face into his chest. “You can afford a few minutes.”

“Oh yeah?” Ashton asks. “What’s in it for me?” Michael cracks an eye open at him again, then kisses the teasing look off his face. Ashton laughs into it, but soon he’s kissing back just as thoroughly, like he’s trying to memorize Michael in the same way Michael is trying to memorize him. He should have been paying more attention every other time they kissed. He’s had the feel of Ashton’s skin under his hands and the smell of him ingrained into his memory for a long time, but he’s still scared that as soon as Ashton accepts his diploma Michael will suddenly forget everything.

Ashton pushes Michael onto his back and swings a leg over his hips. Michael wants to memorize this, too. He wants to freeze this moment, capture Ashton’s weight on top of him and the way he grips Michael’s hands and pins them against the covers, fingers interlocked, holding on just as tightly as Michael is. When Ashton eventually leans back Michael feels a piece of his heart break.

“I have to get ready,” he says, a small smile gracing his features. Michael tries to mirror some of his joy. He can be sad after Ashton has left with his family.

“Five more minutes?” he asks, but they both know that he’s already lost the battle. Ashton leans down and kisses Michael once more, sweet and chaste, then gets up and heads to the bathroom to shower. Michael lays in bed for a few more minutes staring at the ceiling, then makes himself get up and start preparing toast.

Ashton eventually exits the bathroom in dress pants and a dress shirt with the top few buttons undone. For a split second Michael can see a future like this, Ashton prepared to go to his dream job at a publishing company and Michael running late for whatever he ends up doing with his music business degree. He can see a million mornings of burning Ashton’s toast but getting his coffee perfect and Ashton smiling at him and kissing his cheek and saying thanks in that sweetly sincere way he always does when Michael does something completely ordinary for him, as if he’s still surprised that people are willing to do small favors even though the only thing Michael wants to do with his life is take care of him.

“I love you,” Michael says. Ashton pauses with his toast halfway to his mouth. He beams and Michael feels a little bit better about everything.

“I love you, too. Come eat breakfast with me.”

Breakfast goes by in a blur. Before Michael can blink they’re piling into Ashton’s car and driving to the soccer field where graduation will take place. Each college at the university has an outdoor, in person commencement to allow for proper social distancing, and Ashton drew the short straw by being in the college of Libral Arts and Sciences and having to line up at 8:00. He got four tickets for family and friends, so Michael gets to wait for Anne Marie, Lauren, and Harry to show up and then join them to watch. Then they’re going to officially move Ashton out of his dorm room, go to lunch together, and Michael will have to say goodbye to the love of his life.

They follow directions for parking and join other groups of grads and loved ones waiting outside the field. Ashton grabs his robe, cap, and cords from the back seat and Michael holds things for him while he puts them all on.

He has a gold Summa Cum Laude stole, a medal from the honors program, a cord from reslife, and a cord for being a first generation student. Michael helps adjust everything so it’s laying flat and even, although the ceremony isn’t for another hour and there’s more than enough opportunity for it to get messed up again. Ashton lets him fret anyway, then puts his cap on and straightens the tassel to complete the look. Michael feels emotion well up in him again, but it’s not sadness this time. Looking at Ashton fully decked out and glowing with happiness, he thinks the feeling might be pride.

“Okay, I need to go get lined up,” Ashton says. He puts on a mask and pats his pockets for his phone and wallet. Michael hugs him before he goes.

“I’m proud of you,” he murmurs. “Have fun. We’ll find you after.” Ashton squeezes him, then sets off towards the tent where the graduates are gathering with a wave behind him. Michael watches him leave until he steps under the tent and gets lost in the crowd of other black-robed students.

He’s going to miss him.

Michael heads towards the entrance of the field and finds a corner to mess around on his phone and try not to think about it. Scrolling through social media posts of his other friends graduating or commenting on the end of the school year doesn’t exactly help, but Candy Crush is engaging enough that he can turn his mind off.

“Michael!”

Michael jumps about five feet in the air at the loud voice right next to him.

“Holy fu-- don’t do that Harry!” he says while the kid laughs. Anne Marie and Lauren reach them at that time, both of them smiling in amusement. Michael blushes and gives Harry a noogie in retaliation, then gives Lauren a fist bump and hugs Anne Marie.

“It’s so good to see you, Michael,” Anne Marie says. She hugs the same way that Ashton does, arms wrapped securely around him and holding him tight.

“It’s good to see you, too.”

Anne Marie has the tickets on her phone and presents them to get them in the field. An unfamiliar professor leads them to their section, and the Irwins keep a constant stream of conversation with him, catching him up on their lives this semester and asking about his. He doesn’t have time to get stuck in his head about Ashton leaving before a recording of “Pomp and Circumstance” starts playing and the graduates begin filing onto the field to take their seats in the middle. Michael sees Ashton the moment he enters. He taps Harry’s arm and points him out and they all watch him walk down the aisle and take his seat on the field. He’s on the opposite side from them, but when he walks across the stage he’ll be facing them. At least Michael won’t have to watch him walk away.

The president of the university says a few words, they sing the anthem, then more stuffy old men say more words. Everyone keeps it brief and it goes by quickly, but Michael still zones out for most of it. The student speaker is fine, but Harry shoots him a look for jiggling his leg partway through even though he’s been sneakily playing games on his phone instead of listening.

When they start reading the names Michael waits with bated breath. He recognizes a few names of Ashton’s friends or classmates that he’s talked about before, but the vast majority of the students are complete strangers until the reader announces Ashton Fletcher Irwin!

All of them cheer obnoxiously. Ashton has his mask on, so they can’t see his smile, but Michael knows that it’s wide and bright. He waves at them between nodding graciously at the dean and president. Michael blows him a kiss. He stops paying attention to people’s names after that, watching Ashton instead. He keeps adjusting his mask or fiddling with his cords in between clapping for his classmates, restless now that he’s walked across the stage. He doesn’t have a diploma to keep his hands occupied since they’re getting mailed out later, but since their ceremony is only one college instead of the entire university he’s not restless for long. Michael thinks he can hear his cheer at the end of the ceremony even from halfway across the field. They have to wait for the ushers to dismiss them before they can find him outside, and it’s the longest wait of Michael’s life.

“Mom, are you crying?” Lauren asks. Michael looks over and sees Anne Marie gently catching tears under her eyes.

“I’m so happy,” she sniffs. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll cry at your graduation, too.” Lauren makes a face but grabs her mom’s purse and gets a tissue out for her. Michael feels like he shouldn’t be seeing his boyfriend’s mother cry, so he looks at his hands. Ashton painted his nails black earlier in the week while quizzing him on music theory and the paint is chipping now. He doesn’t want to pick at it. He wants to keep as many physical reminders of Ashton with him for as long as possible.

Harry sighs and turns to him.

“At least you’re not crying.”

Michael doesn’t want to tell him that he probably will as soon as he has to go back to an empty apartment. He shrugs.

“Crying at graduation is a mom thing,” he says. Harry accepts the answer and goes back to his phone. Michael checks his own and finds a text from Calum asking how he’s holding up. He’s a good friend, and he partially understands what Michael is going through since Roy graduated with his masters this semester, but the difference is that Roy is staying in the area. Michael has to do long distance for a year. There will be no more late-night ice cream runs or eating lunch together or sitting Ashton’s security shifts with him. Michael is going to be sleeping alone for a long time.

He tells Calum that he’s doing fine. It’s a placeholder answer until Ashton officially leaves and he has time to sort through the tangle of emotions knotting themselves in his gut, and Calum will understand that.

The usher tells them they can go now, so Michael follows the family out of the field and to the concrete area before the parking lot where all of the graduates have gathered. A lot of them have taken off their masks for pictures, and Michael feels his anxiety spike despite him, Ashton, and Anne Marie being fully vaccinated. It gets worse the longer he looks for Ashton without finding him. He wishes that Ashton had decorated his cap to make him easier to spot, but he hadn’t thought of it until the last second and didn’t know what to put.

“There he is! Ashton!” Anne Marie leads them over to him, immediately wrapping Ashton in a hug as soon as he turns around and sees her. Michael hangs back and watches him laugh and smile with his family, then darts in for his own hug as soon as Ashton motions him forward.

“Hi,” he says. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Ashton replies, turning to kiss his cheek before he remembers that they’re both wearing masks. It makes him giggle, which makes Michael giggle.

He’s really, really going to miss him.

“Say cheese!” Anne Marie says, snapping a picture of them on her phone. Michael swaps out and takes the camera then, getting pictures of Ashton with his family and other graduating friends that they find. Ashton is beaming in all of the pictures, happiness oozing out of him with every hug gifted to his classmates and every word exchanged. His laugh sounds lighter, like walking across that stage lifted a weight from his shoulders.

Michael is going to miss him, but it’s harder to remember that when Ashton is glowing. And that’s what love is, right? Wanting what’s best for another person even if it doesn’t make you happy in the moment? Michael may be terrified and out of his depth when he thinks about his own graduation next year, but Ashton clearly isn’t. Ashton has been waiting for this for a long time, and Michael can be happy for him.

When they split up to go back to campus for pictures Ashton stops him before they get into his car.

“This isn’t a proposal,” he says, digging around in his pockets.

“Yeah. Those are cliche and we’re not confined to a timeline,” Michael repeats, frowning. Ashton finally finds what he’s looking for with a little noise of triumph. When he opens his hand a stainless steel ring is in his palm.

“It’s a promise ring,” Ashton says at Michael’s sharp inhale. “I know you’ve been upset about graduation.”

“No, Ash--”

“It’s okay,” Ashton interrupts. “You don’t have to pretend. I’m really going to miss you, too.”

Michael looks down at the ring. It’s simple and understated, but it’s beautiful. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I was thinking that having this might help you miss me a little less,” Ashton says. “We’re a sure thing, and now you have a little piece from me to remind you of that.”

“Oh,” Michael says quietly. He looks down at his hands again, then up at Ashton. “I don’t know what finger a promise ring goes on.” Ashton laughs.

“I don’t really know, either. You can do ring finger, or one of your middle fingers, or the fourth finger on the other side. There’s not a rule for it.”

“You choose,” Michael says, spreading his fingers so Ashton can slip the ring on any of them. Ashton considers for a moment, turning the ring over in his hand, then puts it on Michael’s ring finger. Michael’s heart leaps into his throat at the new weight. He runs his thumb against it, metal warm from being in Ashton’s pocket.

“I love it,” he says. “I love you.” He takes off his mask and gently unhooks Ashton’s from behind his ears, revealing his smile. He cups Ashton’s jaw and leans forward, Ashton meeting him in the middle sweetly. When they pull away, Ashton’s eyes are watery.

“Hey, what are you crying for?” Michael asks gently. Ashton laughs at himself, looking up and blinking a few times until he’s forced the tears back.

“I’m happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before.”

For the first time all day, Michael can mirror his smile fully. He’s going to miss him like crazy, but Ashton is wildly, sincerely happy, and that’s all that Michael needs.

“I’m happy, too.”

#my writing #mashton #5sos fic #alrighty lads have a treat #it is probably not the treat anyone wants but I'm just happy to be posting something #also these two..... this iteration of mashton..... I love them

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poeticandors · 5 years ago

Text

Cut to the Feeling Part 2

Poe Dameron x F!Reader (Babysitter! AU)

Summary: After graduating college and needing to have some cash in order to survive while doing an unpaid internship, Y/N decides to take up a babysitting/caretaking job. Little does she know that she ends up working for a familiar face.

Warnings: Only mentions of smut I guess, nothing else

A/N: Thanks for all the love for this fic! Hopefully you all continue to enjoy this! This chapter is a bit long i am so sorry.

Part 1

GIF belongs to @fernandabarrera

Earlier

Poe watches you rush out the door, a sense of slight regret. He hates the thought of you walking alone, he would have loved to offer you a ride back to the bar to retrieve your car. Under different circumstances, he would have.

Poe wasn’t one to engage in one night stands like this. When he saw you drinking alone at the bar, it wasn’t his first intention to take you and have you ride him in the backseat of your car. Nor was it his intention to take you back to his house and continue your hot, sensual escapade and practically kick you out in the morning.

No. Poe wasn’t like that at all. Hell, the last time he even had sex was before… well, before his daughter was born.

But after a long stressful day at work— on a whim— he decided to ask his dad to continue to watch his daughter over night while he got a drink at the bar. Well… a few drinks.

While he doesn’t regret the sex at all, he does regret that he didn’t get your information at all. Did you even tell him your name? Did he even tell you his?

He really wished he did get your information because when he was talking to you, it felt as if he could talk to you for hours. You were hilarious, sweet, and Poe hadn’t met someone he actually loved to be around in so long.

Being in law school, participating in an internship in one of the best law firms, and taking care of a baby— it can really kill someone’s social battery.

He was lucky enough to still live with his dad at the time, who was a big help in raising his daughter, Eva Bey. There were some tough nights, but when Poe needed to study or had late nights at the office, his dad would always be there to take care of her. Poe was very grateful for his help— without him, he wasn’t sure if he would have gotten this far.

But since then, Poe managed to get a position with the law firm he was interning for. The only problem was that he had to move into the city, which meant leaving his dad behind. While he was still able to go visit his dad every now and then, he wasn’t going to be able to leave Eva Bey with him every day— which was why he decided to put an ad out for a caretaker.

This would make things a lot easier: he wouldn’t have to drive at least an hour every night to go pick up Eva Bey, and he wouldn’t have to worry about picking her up from school every afternoon.

Poe checks his phone, cursing to himself at the time. He was supposed to have an interview soon and he still needed to pick up Eva Bey from his father’s. As he grabs his keys he thinks back to you hoping that you’re okay and that maybe there is a chance he could meet you again.

++++++

“Thanks again, dad,” Poe says as he grabs the small pink bag. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, how could I turn down some quality time with my favorite granddaughter,” he chuckles, patting his back.

“I’m your only granddaughter Papa Kes!” Eva Bey furrows her brows.

Kes chuckles, bending down to pick the small girl up. “And you’re my favorite.”

Eva Bey gives him a toothy grin, before hugging him tightly.

“You be good for your daddy, okay?” He kisses her cheek. “And I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay!”

Kes sets down Eva Bey, and she looks up at Poe, who kneels down in front of her.

“Why don’t you take your bag to the car,” he smiles, handing her the backpack. “I’ll be right there.”

“Okay, daddy.”

Poe stands up, watching his daughter hurry to his car before turning back to face his dad.

“So, you said you had an interview set up?”

“Yeah, I should be there to meet her by the time we make it back. Thanks again.”

“Of course, I’m going to miss seeing you guys every day,” he chuckles.

“You’ll still see us, don’t worry.”

Poe gives his dad a quick hug as a goodbye, making his way to the car. He helps buckle in Eva Bey into her booster seat, before he gets in the front seat.

“Did you have a good time with Papa Kes?” Poe looks in the mirror, as he backs out.

“Yeah! We had Mac and cheese for dinner, and we watched Princess and the Frog!”

“That’s good, baby. I’m glad you had a good time,” he smiles.

“Daddy, will I still get to see Papa Kes?”

“Of course you will, baby. Just… it won’t be every day like we used to.”

“How come?”

“Well, daddy has a new job, remember? And we had to move pretty far. There would be a lot of driving. But, daddy is going to meet someone today and they might be able to pick you up after school when I can’t.”

“Is it a man or a lady?” She asks, swinging her feet.

“A lady.”

“Is she pretty?”

Poe chuckles. “Well, I’m not sure. I haven’t seen her yet.”

Eva Bey seems to accept the answer— or is just tired of the conversation— and pulls out her tablet. Poe smiles, and continues the drive home.

++++++

“Okay, why don’t you go put your stuff away. The caretaker will be here soon to meet us.”

“Okay, Daddy!” She takes her backpack, and skips off down the hallway.

Poe smiles, setting his keys down as he looks around the living room. He spots a few of Eva Bey’s toys on the floor— a small plush giraffe, a soccer ball, and a few of her blocks. He sighs, making his way over to pick up the toys she left lying around yesterday morning.

He also sees a few of the couch pillows on the floor, and he is suddenly brought back to last night— how you tasted, how you pulled his hair when he made you cum, and how you even offered to return the favor, giving him an IOU.

Poe smirks. He wonders what you are up to at this moment. If he had your number, he probably would have texted you at this moment. Were you thinking of him like how he was thinking of you?

Just as he finishes tidying up the living room, he hears the doorbell ring. Perfect timing, he thinks. He straightens his shirt, and gives one last look over for the room before he heads to the door.

He puts on a friendly smile, and as he starts to greet the person he was supposed to be interviewing, he instead comes face to face with you.

You.

You who he had just departed from hours ago. Who had stayed the night after being tangled in each other’s limbs, pleasuring each other for hours. You who he was just thinking about seconds before he opened the door.

His smile drops, and he seems to mimic your expression as you stare wide eyed at him. It takes a moment, but then you both finally seem to find words as you speak at the same time.

“...Are you Mr. Dameron—“

“—You’re Miss Y/L/N?”

You both seem to catch each other off guard. There you both stand, silent and baffled, until he feels a pair of arms wrap around his leg.

Poe looks down, and sees Eva Bey peeking out from behind his legs. He automatically pushes her hair back and gives her a reassuring smile, letting her know that she’s safe and that he’s there. She looks up at him, and he wishes he knew what she was thinking in that moment as he looks deep into her dark eyes.

When he looks back to you, he’s conflicted. Sure, he was just thinking about you, but he didn’t know that it was, well… you that he was going to be interviewing. Would it be wrong to turn you away just because he happened to sleep with you last night?

Poe watches your gaze fall down, and you give his daughter a friendly smile before kneeling down and giving her a small wave as you tell her your name. He doesn’t know why, but that small gesture softens his heart. Eva Bey stays behind him, though peeking out a little more. In that moment, Poe makes his decision, and clears his throat.

“Um… come on in.”

++++++

This was not happening.

Your mind races, you couldn’t be awake, right? You were still in bed with him, waiting for your alarm to go off. This was a dream— no, it was a nightmare.

Wake up, wake up, wake up.

There was no way you were really here after waking up and leaving him just to end up back here for your interview. You had to be asleep still. That’s why you were still picturing him, and imagining his living room... in perfect detail with daylight.

With other added details.

The entire house— or at least the front room— screamed that he was a family man. How did you not notice the toys in the pink bin on the other side of the living room this morning? Or the framed photographs of him with his daughter on the wall?

Oh, right.

Because after you spent most of the night writhing underneath his mouth as he brought you to that euphoric bliss, you were too dazed to even think of anything else. Even this morning, you were more worried about getting your clothes and rushing to get to your interview then checking your surroundings.

Shit, shit, shit.

There was no way you were about to get interviewed by the guy you just happened to fuck last night. Was this going to affect everything? What if he looked past all your credentials and thought you were someone who was careless and not fit enough to take care of his daughter anyways? Or… what if he expected more?

Your stomach sits uneasy. The thought of that being the whole reason to hire you really terrifies you. But you really needed this job.

You were so sure that you would get it based off of your qualifications that you didn’t even think of searching for another. What were the chances that you just happened to sleep with the man who had the choice of hiring you?

You were surprised he didn’t automatically turn you away when he saw you. But also grateful. Maybe he was willing to look past everything that happened and give you a decent, fair chance?

When you see the look on his face as he walks back in the room, your hopes seem to dwindle down to a trickle.

Poe Dameron— as you’ve now come to know him— sits across from you in an armchair, staring at you. He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he visibly tries to form some sort of a coherent sentence.

The silence, despite the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall, is achingly painful. You debate just hightailing out of there, saving you both the trouble. He would probably appreciate it; that would mean less awkward work he would have to do.

Finally, and to your confusion, he lets out a dry chuckle.

“What are the chances?”

“...S-Sorry?”

He sits back in his chair, an amused smile on his face. “I mean, out of everyone in that bar, everyone, I happened to talk to the one that I had an interview with.”

You’re not really sure how to respond. Was he really trying to joke at a time like this?

He must’ve read the expression on your face, because soon after his smile drops.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean— I only meant… this is such a wild coincidence, is what I’m trying to say.”

“Oh, no— I mean, yes. You’re right, it is a wild coincidence.”

He seems relieved, and visibly relaxes. “Okay—“

“Before you say anything, I just…” you interrupt, breathing out nervously. “I have to tell you that I don’t expect you to hire me after what happened last night. I wouldn’t blame you for just kicking me out right away. But… I really need this job. And I’m not just saying that, I really, really need this job. I’m doing this unpaid internship at this clinic and well, I didn’t really plan for a backup and...”

You quickly pull out your references and resume out of your purse, setting it on the table.

“I’m really good with kids. Like, really good. I babysat all my cousins and I was the go-to babysitter in the neighborhood. And I’m working on becoming a speech therapist, to help out kids with their speech and communication.”

You watch as Poe slowly reaches forward, looking over your information. Although you should probably stop talking and instead let him read over, you can’t help yourself.

“I’m also CPR and First Aid certified, so… oh! And I’ve never had a driving ticket and I just…”

Poe glances up at you and you feel like sinking into the couch.

“I really need this job. And I just… I hope that we can look past what happened last night. I mean, I did have a great time, don’t get me wrong, but…”

You trail off, realizing what you said and mentally curse at yourself. Poe doesn’t seem affected by the comment as he looks up from the papers, setting them down.

He studies you for a moment, and you wonder if this is what having heart palpitations feels like. All you can do is wonder what is going through his mind, hoping that he takes all that you’ve said into consideration. Finally, he goes to speak.

“Do you know how to make Mac and cheese?”

You blink. And blink again. And then once more.

“...Mac and Cheese?”

“Yeah, it’s my daughter’s favorite.”

He had to be joking, right?

“...Yes, I can make it. And other foods.”

He nods, and then stands up. “How about I show you around?”

“Wait…” you quickly stand up. “Seriously?”

Poe shrugs. “Gives me time to think things over. Come on.”

Poe begins heading out of the living room, and you can only follow behind him, slightly confused. Were you going to question him? No.

“That there is the kitchen, the fridge is always stocked so you wouldn’t have to worry about it. If there is anything specific you need just let me know.”

“Oh, okay…”

He walks down the hallway, and you take note of more pictures— actual photographs and hand drawn ones— of Poe, his daughter, and some including another man, probably a relative.

“This is the bathroom, and the room across from it is my office. You probably won’t have to go in there anyways.”

You simply nod. Why was he telling you all of this?

He points to another door. “My bedroom. Though I have a feeling you might have already known that.”

He turns back to you, seeing you giving him an unamused look.

“...Sorry, bad joke.”

“It’s… fine.”

He only walks across to the other door. “And this is Eva Bey’s room.”

He opens the door, and you look inside to see the small bedroom. The furniture was white, and the bed in the corner had purple bed sheets, with a few stuffed animals laid up against the pillows. You also noticed another bin filled with a few other toys.

On the other end of the room was a small table, where His daughter— Eva Bey— sat coloring a picture. She looks up, smiling at her father. You noticed she had similar features: the same dark, curly hair, deep brown eyes, and even the same lips.

“Hi, daddy.”

“Hey, baby. I was just showing Miss Y/F/N around.”

She looks up at you, and suddenly looks back down to her picture. Poe chuckles softly.

“She’s shy, not used to seeing a lot of new people.”

“I get that—“

Poe’s phone begins to ring and he quickly pulls it out, cursing silently.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this. Work. You’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you nod, and he hesitates before quickly walking to his bedroom.

You stand at the doorway, glancing back to Eva Bey. She must’ve been looking up at you because she is fast to look back down at her paper. You can’t help but smile, and make your way over to the table. She doesn’t look up right away, and you kneel next to her.

“So, Eva—“

“My name is Eva Bey.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry,” you set your bag down. “Eva Bey, is it alright if I sit and watch you color?”

She shrugs, reaching for the green crayon as you take a seat in the small red chair across from her. You take a look at the picture she is working on.

“Is that you and your dad?”

“Mmhm,” she nods, working on a few small green blobs you make out to be bushes.

“I saw your other pictures, you’re really good at drawing.”

“...Thank you.”

You breathe out softly, smiling as she finally looks up at you.

“I like your hair,” she says.

“Thank you. I like yours, too. It’s very pretty. And so is your name.”

She straightens up. “Are you going to be watching me when my daddy is working?”

“Well… I hope so. But it’s up to your daddy.”

She seems to be satisfied with that answer, and puts down the crayon in her hand.

“Do you know how to draw a puppy?”

“Oh, um… kind of.”

She slides the paper over to you. “Can you draw one for me please?”

“Sure,” you turn the paper over. “What color do you want the puppy to be?”

“Orange and white! Like those little ones, um… I forgot what they are called.”

“I think I know which ones you’re talking about,” you smile. “Here, I can show you how I like to draw my dogs and then you can learn how to do so.”

She scoots closer, watching as you begin to draw a small puppy.

“Do you have a puppy?” She asks and you shake your head.

“No, but when I was your age I used to have one. The building I live in doesn’t allow pets,” you take the orange crayon. “Do you have any pets?”

“No,” she sighs. “But I really want a puppy. My daddy says we can’t have one yet, and that’s it’s a lot of re… um… I can’t remember the word.”

“Responsibility?” You look down at her and she nods quickly. “Well, your daddy is right. Taking care of animals is a big responsibility. But I’m sure someday you’ll be able to get a puppy.”

She smiles and you put the finishing touches on the puppy, before handing her the paper.

“What do you think?”

“I love it! Thank you!”

You laugh softly, before seeing Eva Bey look behind you to the door and rushing over.

“Daddy, look! Miss Y/F/N helped me with a puppy!”

Poe picks up Eva Bey, taking a look at the picture. “Wow, that’s a good picture.” He nods, before turning to you.

You stand up, grabbing your purse as Poe sets Eva Bey down.

“How about you hang that up on the fridge, okay? I’ll walk Miss Y/F/N out.”

“Okay! Bye Miss Y/F/N!”

“Bye, Eva Bey,” you smile, watching as she runs out the door:

Poe turns to you, before stepping out of your way to walk back to the front door. He doesn’t say anything right away, and that has you becoming anxious. This is where he tells you he can’t hire you, right? Because you guys just so happened to have a one night stand with each other?

“She seems to like you,” he finally says, and you glance over at him.

“Oh… well, she’s a very sweet girl.”

“She is,” he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

You grip the strap of your purse. Had he come up with his decision? Was he going to hire you? Or was he just going to let you down easy.

He finally sighs. “So, listen… I know last night happened, and… well, this is happening now. But…”

It didn’t occur to you that you were holding your breath until he steps towards you.

“What happened last night can’t happen again. If I hire you, we just… go on like nothing occurred between us before this, okay? We have to be professional.”

“Of course!” You breathe out. “I totally understand, extremely professional, and that won’t happen again I can assure you that.”

“Great,” Poe nods. “So I’ll just give you my card. You can reach me at my cell anytime. Would you be okay with starting Monday?”

“Yes, Monday definitely works,” you take the card, fingers brushing just barely against his.

“Perfect. I’ll send you the address of her school and let them know you’ll be picking her up from now on. She gets out each day at one, so just try to be there before then.”

“Of course, I definitely will,” you nod, shaking his hand. “Thank you so much Mr. Dameron.”

“You can call me Poe, I don’t mind.”

“Right, Poe…” you slowly pull your hand away. “I’ll just… thank you again for this, I won’t let you down.”

“I have a feeling you won’t,” he gives a genuine, friendly smile. “See you Monday?”

“Yes, Monday.”

He opens the door for you, giving a slight wave as you walk back to your car. You really couldn’t believe it, he was really willing to give you a chance despite what happened.

As you get into your car, you breathe out in relief, relaxing against your seat. But then you’re suddenly brought back to the feelings you had earlier, before you found out that Poe was the one you slept with.

It was a little dejecting, you were beginning to feel something towards the man you slept with and hoped to find him again. Now that you did, you realized that you had to push those feelings down. Deep down.

That wouldn’t be so hard, right?

++++++

TAGLIST: @starkrobb

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron fic #poe dameron x you #poe x reader #babysitter au

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mcwriting · 4 years ago

Text

The Marriage Project (1)

Omg I can’t believe it’s taken me THIS long to post this. I wrote this chapter probably in like April or May and it freaks me out to finally post but here it is!

My slow burn (American) High School AU with Tom Holland!

All the general info for this series is on the story masterlist, but I’ll list warnings and word counts on every chapter. Chapters will be much longer than my typical 2000 or less babies

Warnings: This will become a mature story in the future (no smut; more info on masterlist). Some profanity in this chapter

Word Count: 4140 (I told you!)

% approximately the 2nd week of August %

Ah, senior year. One last year of high school, one last year of seeing the people you’ve grown up with every day.

You’ve been told it’s easy. The best year ever. And yeah, maybe it will be. It’s not like you’re taking too many hard classes or overloading yourself with extracurriculars, aside from volleyball, soccer, the National Honors Society, and quiz bowl.

(Okay maybe it was a little much, but you loved it anyways)

The only real problem was the certified thorn in your side, Tom Holland.

He’d essentially been your mortal enemy since the sixth grade when he beat your mile time by only a few seconds.

Now, it’s not that he was a bully or anything, he was just so insufferable to be around. And yes, everyone always says boys pick on girls when they like them, but rest assured that wasn’t the case. You’d both always hated each other, nothing more.

You were always competing, and because of that ended up in the same place a lot.

He was in all your honors classes, in NHS, played boys soccer, and did quiz bowl. The only thing you had to yourself was volleyball except, oh wait, his younger brother’s girlfriend was on the team and Tom was his ride home every day.

All these thoughts raced through your head as you walked in on the first day, sitting down in AP calculus as soon as you finished up at your locker.

Everyone did the “how was your summer?” and “long time no see!” as students filed in. Eventually walked in Tom, and you shot each other a glare as he sat down right next to you.

“Holland.”

“Y/l/n.”

Everyone around you groaned. They all knew you two were forces to be reckoned with and probably dreaded spending another year listening to the two of you bicker everyday.

Though you were often in close proximity, you never really talked much, except to argue. Rarely did you agree unless it was on basic facts, and even then was it hard to admit sometimes.

Because of this, you typically resigned yourselves to only speaking when it came to grades so you could keep a mental tally of who was in the lead. You were both in the running for valedictorian at the end of the year, and you were not about to let Tom win.

The week was almost over and things had gone smoothly for the most part.

Sure, you and Tom had had a couple of spats, but nothing that wasn’t handled quickly.

He’d been to all of your volleyball games so far, even the summer ones, which meant he was forced to watch you dominate the court as both a setter and right side hitter.

It was a nice little satisfaction.

Especially because you’d watched him throw some horrendous passes in the preseason football game last week that led to a loss by one touchdown. (Okay, he’d had some good passes too, but they were lucky shots).

You settled into your seat in senior home economics Friday before lunch. The class was your school’s attempt at teaching some life skills for rising adults. For the most part however, it was a glorified cooking and sewing class. You didn’t mind per say, since you could cook up a pre-snack lunch sometimes.

Most of your friends were in there, including your best friend Alexis, whom you hadn’t seen all morning.

You, Alexis, and two other girls stood around a mixing bowl with the ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies since it was a Friday, which Mrs. Flynn called “dessert day.”

“Oh! Before I forget,” your teacher, Mrs. Flynn, started getting everyone’s attention. “This year we’re doing something new for this class! Next week I’ll have you all split into pairs for a semester long marriage project! I will be drawing names out of a hat, so don’t get too comfortable yet. Anyways, be thinking on what kinds of careers you might want and things of that nature! Okay, now get back to your desserts!”

The whole room broke out into chatter the last part of the hour-and-a-half class, people speculating who might end up with who and what jobs they’ll get.

“Oh my God, wouldn’t it be funny if y/n got Tom?” Alexis stated as you stirred chocolate chips into the dough. The other girls laughed as you just snorted.

“Yeah, I’d rather lick the inside of the microwave than be paired up with him for a semester,” you replied, earning more laughter from your friends.

You assumed Tom’s friends were saying the same however, because when you looked over to see how bad their dough looked, he was rolling his eyes as his group pointed in your direction.

The next week came and went, and it was once again Friday. Or, as Mrs. Flynn was calling it, Wedding Day.

Every time she’d pull a couple’s name, she was going to make you both come to the front of the class and exchange plastic wedding rings and sign a fake marriage license.

Yay.

Everyone chattered excitedly as she tore up the strips with your names and mixed them around. Finally the time came for her to start the drawing.

“Okay, friends. First up we have...” she drew the first name. “Katherine and... drumroll please?”

The class drummed their hands over their thighs.

“Chris! Come on down folks, let’s get this marriage on!”

She “married” the first couple, and then continued to draw. You had to admit that you were a little nervous, but still eager to see who you’d get.

Two couples later, she pulled Tom’s name.

You shot him an eyebrow raise to which he returned a discreet middle finger. You rolled your eyes as you prepared a drumroll for Mrs. Flynn.

“And his lucky partner is... y/n!”

“What!” you both exclaimed simultaneously.

Almost the entire class burst into laughter.

“Mrs. Flynn, this has to be a mistake,” you said.

“Yeah, can’t we have a redraw?” Tom asked.

You hated that he was agreeing with you.

“Nope! You get who you get and you don’t throw a fit! And if it doesn’t work out in a few weeks we can discuss divorce plans.”

“How about annulments,” you stated dryly, earning a chuckle from her.

“That… kinda depends on if you have kids,” she trailed awkwardly before perking back up. “Now come on down! They always say your first marriage is the most memorable!”

“Who has ever said that?” Tom asked.

“You know. They. Now just get up here and do the ring thing!” she commanded.

You both sulked up to the front of the room.

“Okay, now stand here facing each other and hold hands.”

“Do we have to?” Tom whined.

“Yes, now do it and it’ll be over with faster.”

He groaned, rolled his eyes, and grabbed your hands, holding them loosely.

“May I have the rings please!” Mrs. Flynn asked Caroline, the girl whose desk was closest that she’d asked to be designated ring bearer. She handed over the basket to let you both choose from the mix.

You took a silver colored ring with a faux white diamond in the shape of a star. Tom chose one with an oval “ruby.” You couldn’t help but notice how every single person was on edge watching the two of you.

“Okay now Tom, repeat after me. I, Tom Holland, take thee, y/n y/l/n, to be my wedded wife to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

He mumbled through the vow, avoiding eye contact, and slipped your star ring onto your finger. You were surprised at how gentle he was, carefully caressing your hand and making sure the ring faced straight up once it was on your finger.

You, too, said the lines and placed the ring onto his left hand.

“Alright. It is with the power vested in me by this very school that I am proud to now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now air kiss!”

You took a deep sigh and pretended to kiss each other's cheeks.

“Class, I’d like to introduce you all to Mr. and Mrs. Holland!”

They began to cheer and clap and laugh when you interjected.

“Uh, no. It’s Mr. and Mrs. y/l/n.”

Tom began to argue with you when Mrs. Flynn stopped you both.

“Alright fine, we’ll do a combined name. How’s the y/l/n-Holland family sound?” she asked, writing your names on the fake marriage certificate.

With reluctance, Tom agreed to having your name first and you both signed the paper.

Finally you were able to sit back down where your friends were waiting.

“So what was that about licking the microwave?” Alexis asked.

“Oh shut up.”

After your volleyball game (another win!), you and Alexis conversed over cheese fries at your favorite diner.

“Still not ready to talk about today?” she asked. You shook your head.

Alexis had been paired up with Caroline. They were both straight, but you had both been friends with her since freshman year and they got along well.

Today had just been the marriages, and next week you’d be learning more about your family dynamics.

“I’m just so pissed at him. This afternoon in senior art he told all the guys in there that he was going to make it as hard as possible for me. I mean jokes on him, he’s going to want to get an A too, but he was just so smug about it. He also strung his stupid ring on that necklace he’s always wearing. What’s that all about?”

“I mean you’re still wearing your ring. But yeah, that is a little weird.”

“I’m wearing mine because compared to some of the others, the star is actually cute.”

“True. I got unlucky with the selection,” Alexis admitted, digging hers out of her purse to show you a big square blue gem.

“I just wish there was a way to get back at him after all these years. I mean, we’ve been at each other’s throats for almost six years but nothing has ever seemed to really hit hard. This is the last year I’ve got to really make it count.”

Alexis gave you a look, one you knew to be quite mischievous.

“You know what’s the best way to get revenge on a guy?” Alexis asked.

“Uh, no, but by the look you’re giving me it seems to fall under Carrie Underwood ’before he cheats’ directive.”

“No, dumbass. You make his family fall in love with you.”

It took a second to process what she said before you could give a decent reply.

“You’re kidding right? His family already knows who I am because of all the stuff we’re in together. They probably also know about our rivalry. I mean, he’s told his brothers to never become friends with me.”

“And you know that, how?”

“The libero is Sam’s girlfriend. She’s been spilling tea for me for the past year.”

There was a break in the conversation as the waiter brought your meals out. Once he was gone, you spoke up again.

“Look, do you really think that would work? I mean sure I’d get under his skin, but it doesn’t really constitute revenge, does it?”

“Look at it this way,” Alexis put down her burger so she could splay her hands out in front of her. “If you can get on everyone else's good side, they’ll all talk about how much they love you and he’ll be forced to listen. If he really hates you, it’ll drive him crazy.”

You thought on it for a minute as you chomped on a chicken tender.

“Alright, I’m in. If it doesn’t end up working, I still have all of next semester to mess with him anyways. Now if I can just figure out how to really get to know his family…”

By the time Monday rolled around, you and Alexis had done some more scheming, but your plan wouldn’t even begin to be put in action until your volleyball games Wednesday and Friday, when you’d try to talk to Sam.

You sat down in home ec, where today you’d be picking careers. The catch, however, was that your family unit would have a set income, so each couple had to decide how it would be split up.

“Y/l/n-Holland family, you’ll be making $200k a year,” Mrs. Flynn announced, handing you the slip of paper. “Get together and decide who’s getting what jobs.”

“At least we’ll be rich,” you thought as Tom plopped into the seat next to you unhappily.

“So I’ll be the doctor and you’ll be the trophy wife, right?” he asked immediately.

“Hah, good one. I think we all know that I’m the smarter one here and wayyyy more likely to get into med school than you. And don’t call me trophy wife. I mean, what, you think I’m hot now? Can’t wait to tell everyone that little number.”

His ears turned beet red and he balled a fist.

“I don’t think you’re hot, except maybe hot shit. It’s a figure of speech.” he spat.

“Oh get over yourself. I know I’m hot anyways. Let’s just both pick jobs that earn $100k so we can be equal. How’s that sound?”

“Fine.”

He played with the plastic ring on his necklace as you looked up jobs on the computer. After a half hour of searching, Tom and you decided that to be fully equal, you’d both take the same job as physician’s assistants.

“Just so you know, I’ll never actually be anyone’s assistant,” he said.

“Oh yeah? Ten years time if you’re lucky I’ll hire you as mine.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Hey everyone, since class is almost over, we’re gonna wait to draw how many kids you’ll have and other financial things Wednesday. See you then!” Mrs. Flynn called out as students packed their things.

“We have to have kids, too?” Tom asked incredulously.

“Good thing it’s fake. I’d hate to see you as a parent,” you shot smugly, earning another middle finger from him that left you laughing.

Wednesday came kids, and thankfully all you got were twin girls, age 9. The project didn’t make you carry around flour babies or anything like that, you just had to account for them in your weekly budgets.

There goes the annulment plan, though.

Each week, Mrs. Flynn would be drawing something new for you all that would either be good or bad for your budgets, and it was up to you to figure out what to with the funding, or lack thereof. You also had to come up with a story each week that explained why money was put somewhere or what your “family” did that week.

She would also be doing progress checks, so you couldn’t wait until the end of the semester to do all the work. By the end, each couple would have to give a presentation over what they did and learned.

“Okay, so we each get to name one. That’s pretty equal,” you stated, thinking up baby names.

“Well I like Elizabeth,” he almost immediately replied, writing it down on one of the “birth certificates” you’d been handed by Mrs. Flynn.

“That’s… surprisingly good. I’ll go with Francesca. What about middle names? I like Rose.”

“Hm. How about Opal? Then they’ll have the same number of letters in their names.”

You were surprised at how much though he put into this, but let it go as you wrote your child’s name down.

“By the way, we need to plan time to get together and write a budget and find a house this weekend. I have a volleyball game Friday so how about Saturday?”

“I have football practice Saturday.”

“Well yeah but only until like 10 right? We could just meet at like 1. We’re doing construction at my house right now so could we do it at yours?”

You spoke sweetly in an attempt to receive a yes and put your plan into motion. Tom sighed and thought about it.

“I mean I guess. But you’re only going to be there to work on the project and then leave right?”

“Uh, duh. The less time with you the better.”

“Likewise.”

Tom and Sam weren’t at the volleyball game Wednesday, so you had to wait until Friday’s.

Friday was muffin day in home ec, so you thankfully didn’t have to talk to Tom. Instead, you and Alexis discussed the plan of getting Tom’s family on your side as you mixed up batter.

Later that afternoon, you watched from afar as Sam and his girlfriend, Julia, sat on the bleachers speaking. It was still an hour until game time and coach had asked you to round up the girls for stretching.

“Hey, Jules!” you called, jogging over to where she was. “Oh, hey Sam!” He looked at you like you were crazy before responding.

“Uh, hey y/n.” He gave a slight head nod.

“Anyways, coach wants us to start warming up. Wanna be my partner today?”

“Um yeah. Sure. See ya later babe,” she said, giving Sam a quick peck on the cheek before standing up to follow you.

After another win, you were helping take down the net and noticed Julia once again talking to Sam while Tom stood a few feet away looking bored.

“Hey, could you wrap up the net? I need to do something real quick,” you said to another teammate as you headed over.

“Hey, Jules! Solid digs today! You were making my job way too easy,” you joked.

You could see from the corner of your eye Tom look up at you in annoyance.

“Ahaha thanks girl. But I can’t take all the credit. You were on fire tonight. What was that like 15 aces? And your hits? Incredible,” she replied.

“Yeah, you were amazing tonight,” Sam added.

“Ohhhkay we can stop the compliment parade on y/n now. We need to go anyways, Sam, mom wants us home,” Tom interjected, putting an arm out in front of his brother, who was rolling his eyes.

“Alright fine. We still on for dinner tomorrow?” Sam asked his girlfriend. She nodded and they exchanged a quick hug and kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow too, Tom,” you said. “I’ll bring my laptop.”

Sam looked at him in confusion.

“Yeah whatever,” was all Tom could say to you as you strutted off to the locker room.

You stood nervously on the front porch of Tom’s suburban home. You had texted him when you parked but now dreaded actually going inside.

After shifting back and forth for a minute, you finally rang the doorbell.

It was only a few seconds later that the door opened, revealing Sam’s twin Harry. He looked confused.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Hey Harry. Tom and I are supposed to be working on a school project today and he said to come over at this time so...” You awkwardly shifted your backpack straps and looked down.

“Tom! Someone’s here to see you!” he yelled out, making you snort.

He appeared shirtless in the doorway and looked at you blankly.

“Oh. It’s just you.”

“Just me? What did you just forget that we have to work on our project today,” you replied, holding up your left hand to point to the plastic ring on it.

“You’re still wearing that? Why?”

“Firstly, the little star is cute. And secondly, you don’t have a lot of room to speak, Tom. Yours is still on your necklace,” you pointed to the chain around his neck, to which he instinctively reached up and grabbed the ring, twisting it between his fingers.

“Touche. Now come on, let’s just get this over with.” He opened the door wider and let you in, locking it behind you.

As he led you down a hall covered in photos towards the stairs, his mom stepped out, almost running into her son.

“Oh, sorry.” she looked at you, “Y/n? What are you doing here? It’s nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too, Mrs. Holland. Tom and I have to work on our home ec project and we couldn’t do it at my house.”

“Oh dear just call me Nikki. And I do remember him mentioning something about a project. Are you the one he’s married to? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Tom tensed up and clenched his jaw while you gave a light chuckle, holding up your left hand again.

“I hate to say it, but yeah. You’ll probably be seeing a lot more of me throughout the semester.”

“Well you kids have fun. And Tom, honey, would it kill you to put on a shirt?”

He went red again and you had to stifle your laughter.

“I was just on my way to do that, mom. Come on y/n,” he mumbled, grabbing your wrist and dragging you up the stairs.

You turned and waved at Nikki one last time as she called up behind him,

“And make sure to keep the door open!”

He was totally embarrassed by that, and made it a point to shut the door behind him once you made it to his room. Finally you could let out a hearty laugh at his expense as he dug through his drawers and pulled out a simple black t-shirt.

“Finally. I was getting tired of looking at your man boobs,” you quipped, looking around the room.

“Ha ha. Good one,” he shot back dryly.

You were surprised at what his room looked like, though you didn’t know what you’d expected. It was very neat with sleek grey walls. His blue and grey bedding was made up with decorative pillows laid out. On his desk were a few random school papers and a computer, and one shelf held some Spider-Man paraphernalia while another contained medals and ribbons and trophies.

You dropped your backpack to the ground and pointed up at one figurine.

“Hey, that’s pretty cool,” you said sincerely.

“Yeah, I’m sure you think so,” he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“Uh, no. I’m serious. It’s actually really dope.”

He looked taken aback at your compliment, and even to you it felt weird to be saying that out loud about Tom of all people.

“Oh. Well uh. Thanks. Spider-Man was my favorite growing up. But let’s just get to work.”

After an hour of sitting on his carpet searching for a house and arguing over general money allocations,

“Yes Tom, tampons actually cost like $7 for 30 of them and most girls need at least one box a month. And that’s just one factor of personal hygiene. Do you even condition your hair?”

“I’ll have you know my hair is well moisturized. I just don’t ever have to pay for it.”

You finally came to an agreement on the week’s budget.

Packing up your things, you looked up at Tom who was now sitting on the side of his bed scrolling through social media.

“So next week. Your first game of the season, yeah?” you said, remembering that September was already almost here.

“Oh yeah. You coming? I’d hate for you to see just how incredible I am.”

“Psh whatever. I saw your throws at preseason. But yeah, I’ll probably just rinse off after my volleyball game and head to the field. Gotta see what cuties they’ve got on the other team.”

“Ugh gross. You know you’ll regret saying that when half the school is swooning over me in the stands.”

“The only thing you’d ever see me swoon from is dehydration. And that’s a pretty weak excuse already.”

You stood and Tom got up to lead you back out.

“Oh, I think I know the way. You don’t have to take me.”

“Yeah I do. Gotta keep my eyes on those grubby little fingers of yours. Who knows what you’d do unsupervised.”

Before you reached the door, Nikki spotted you from the living room.

“Done so soon? Wow, good job guys. Come back any time y/n!”

“Thanks, Nikki,” you called back to her, then turned to Tom. “So same time next week? We can do it at my place if you want.”

“Nah let’s just do it here. I’m always exhausted the day after a game and I don’t really want to get up.”

Okay then

“Well, see ya Monday then. Bye.”

You were halfway down the sidewalk when Tom called out, “Be safe,” before shutting the door. You stopped in your tracks in shock, but eventually got into your car.

What really mattered, though, was that you were already on Nikki’s good side.

1 down, 4 to go.

Yay! It’s finished! I really hope you guys enjoy this new series because I’m so excited to share it with you all! Once again, future chapters will have some mature content (s*xual harassment and mentions of assault; underaged alcohol consumption) but those chapters will be explicitly labeled with warnings.

Anyways, thanks for reading and please send an ask or message if you’d like to join my story or permanent tag list!

Tag List: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl,

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #enemies to lovers #slow burn #Harry Holland #sam holland #tom holland au #high school!au #high school!tom holland

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jalapeno-princess · 4 years ago

Text

We’re Not Just Friends

He’s so cute what the fuck

Best friend Mark X Reader

Genre: College AU, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, THE FLUFFIEST OF FLUFF

Word Count: 10.7K

Summary: You and Mark have been friends for as long as you could remember. The two of you were like magnets; wherever you went, he’d follow and vice versa. With that being said, you did what you thought was one of the best yet biggest mistakes you could ever do in a friendship, you fell in love with your best friend. There were times where you felt as if he reciprocated your feelings, but you ultimately pushed any idea of being more than just friends with him. That all changes one night when he gets drunk and admits a little too much information you weren’t quite ready for.

A/N: Hey guys, so I was in Marshall’s the other day when the song “Friends don’t” by Maddie and Tae came on (I highly recommend you listen to it while reading this I make quite a few references to the song in this story) and I couldn’t stop putting ideas together while shopping (I actually pulled to the side to brainstorm I actually hate myself). With that being said, this is one of my favorite stories I’ve written so far and I hope you all enjoy it!

They don't cancel other plans Have conversations with nothing but their eyes They don't hear each other's names and forget to concentrate Hits a nerve and lights you up like dynamite

Friends don't call you in the middle of the night Couldn't even tell you why They just felt like saying "hi" Friends don't stand around, playing with their keys Finding reasons not to leave Trying to hide the chemistry Drive a little too slow, take the long way home Get a little too close We do, but friends don't

As a junior in college, sleep was a foreign word to you. You’ve been getting at least three hours of sleep this week since you’ve been preparing for finals; so you savored every minute of slumber you could get. Tonight was the first night you allowed yourself a break from studying and you were going to make the most of it by sleeping in.

When you felt your phone vibrate, you couldn’t help but groan at the idea of your alarm going off; but it occurred to you that you turned off all your alerts for the day in order to get some well deserved rest. A huge part of you, the one that’s been dying to continue dancing around in dreamland wanted to ignore whoever was trying to get in touch with you. They could wait until the morning to talk to you. However, there was only one person who would dare to wake you up in the middle of the night and it was the same person, the only person you didn’t mind taking you away from your dreams.

Once you took a look at his caller ID, you released a frustrated sigh but the smirk that rose on your face at the idea of him was very contradicting. “You better have a good reason for waking me up Mark. What is it?” The phone was silent for a few moments and you had a hunch that he was feeling remorseful for waking you up knowing how tired you’ve been from all the all nighters.

“Hey y/n. Did I wake you? I’m sorry about that.” Although he had an apologetic tone in his voice, you’ve know him long enough to know that he wasn’t the least bit sorry. Mark never did anything he would have to apologize for. Plus, you could hear the glint in his voice and it made you smile softly to yourself.

“It’s fine. Are you okay? Did something happen? Where are you?” He giggled at your many questions and you could feel a blush rising on your cheeks at the sound. Mark Tuan in more or less words was the love of your life. You made the mistake of falling in love with your best friend and because you were afraid of him not reciprocating your feelings and losing him if he were to find out, you kept it to yourself.

It was hard. You only fell more and more in love with him as the days went by. The two of you met in middle school when he accidentally hit you in the face with a volleyball. He was extremely apologetic and did not leave your side at all for the rest of the class time. Actually, he hasn’t left your side at all since that fateful day in P.E. but you weren’t complaining. Mark was everything you could’ve asked for in a best friend and more.

Although everyone in your grade knew him to be extremely shy and timid, he was a completely different person whenever he was around you and you were very happy to be the lucky person that got to see his outspoken and overly energetic side to him. He was smart; he had one of the top grades in the entire school. He was quite the joker, even if a lot of the jokes he told were extremely cheesy and sometimes did not make sense. He was athletic; joined any sport that your school offered and was captain of the baseball, soccer and water polo teams. Plus, he was a sight for sore eyes.

Sure, you’ve seen quite the amount of cute boys in your three years of college, but Mark was a sight to behold. Standing at 5”9 with the prettiest brown eyes you’ve ever seen, a well-defined jaw line, sharp nose, and the most adorable heart shaped lips, you knew he was God’s favorite. Sometimes you didn’t understand why he was wasting his time being friends with you. He was such an intelligent, overly talented and interesting person. All the guys at your college wanted to either be him or be friends with him and a lot the girls wanted to date him. They made it quite obvious that they envied you for being the lucky girl Mark spent most of his time with but you couldn’t blame them, he was perfect.

As much as you loved being his friend, your stupid and naive heart craved to be more. You wanted to be the one to hold his hand, the one to kiss his pretty pink lips, the one to hold him and be held by him. You wanted him to see you as more than just his friend; although, there were times when you did question his feelings for you. As a communications major, you were very good when it came to observing people; Mark being your number one test subject or so you called him.

You were quick to pick up on how he always needed to be touching you, whether it be slinging his arm over your shoulder when the two of you would watch a movie, tapping gently on your thigh whenever you’d go for a drive, pulling you to his side and tightly gripping on to your waist in a crowded area or sitting in between your lap while he played video games. He explained to you once that your presence made him calm and the skin ship was because he needed “evidence that you were real”. The dreamer in you wished that his gestures and not so subtle touches meant more than what he claimed to be.

Then came the stolen glances. You’d catch him from time to time staring at you at the most randomest times. You noticed he looked at you a lot when you’d be studying or while you were eating and that’s when you felt the least amount of attractive so you were sure it was because he thought you looked funny.

There was once time that you slept over at his apartment and you fell asleep on the couch while the two of you watched stranger things. When you woke up, you were quick to realize that he probably carried you to his room like he normally did. As soon as your eyes adjusted to your surroundings, you saw Mark already looking at you with a specific look in his eyes. It was a mix of adoration and something else you couldn’t put your finger on. He’s never looked at you like that before and when he realized you were awake, he immediately closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. Neither of you talked about that incident and he acted completely weird the next morning but things settled down not too long after.

Another thing that you noticed, was his jealousy. Mark could get extremely jealous whenever it came to you. If he saw any guy get a little too close for his liking, even if it was one of your mutual friends, he’d go insane. One thing you could do without was his anger. When Mark got angry, he got really angry. You never understood why he would get upset at the idea of you interacting with another guy, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it. There was one time the two of you attended a hotel party and got yourselves stuck playing spin the bottle. When you spun the bottle and it landed on Jinyoung, you didn’t think much about it and crawled over to him, leaving a chaste yet sweet kiss on his lips. You didn’t think it would cause Mark to give you the silent treatment for three days and when he finally did talk to you again, he gave you a lame excuse as to why he acted like such an asshole.

You weren’t stupid, with the way he looked at you and treated you as if you were the most delicate flower, you knew he had to have some sort of feelings for you. You just had a hard time understanding why he was so adamant on keeping it to himself. If he did have feelings for you, you felt as if he was keeping it a secret from you for the same reason you were keeping it from him; he didn’t want to lose you.

“I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong. I just couldn’t sleep. I should’ve played cod or something instead of bothering you. I knew you took the day off tomorrow for rest. I just—I want to talk to you. It’s been a week since we saw each other. I miss you.” The last words came out as a whisper, but you heard them and your heart fluttered at the thought of him wanting to talk to you because he missed you. Why did he have to do and say things that confused you? He told everyone that the two of you were just friends, but behind closed doors the two of you were in your own little worlds. As if nobody else existed and you liked it that way.

“I miss you too. I promise once finals are over, I’m all yours okay? I’m sorry I’m putting all my time and effort in to school but you know how anal I get when it comes to my grades.” He giggled softly and although you couldn’t see him, you knew he was playfully rolling his eyes because it was true. See unlike Mark, you actually had to put in effort whenever it came to your education. He was naturally smart and you found it quite unfair but he never failed to help you if and when you needed it but you never wanted to bother him. He already had a lot on his plate and you didn’t want to add your incompetence to his already hectic schedule.

“It’s fine. Do you—would you maybe wanna go for a drive? I’ll come pick you up. We don’t have to go anywhere far, honestly we could go on a drive around your block and I’ll drop you back. I just—I’d like to spend time with you.” You were glad he stuck with a phone call and didn’t try to FaceTime you because it would’ve been quite obvious his words were having an affect on you. Something felt off with the way he was acting. There were times where the two of you would go weeks without seeing one another and he was completely fine about it.

One time, he went to Taiwan for an entire month to visit his family over summer vacation and you missed him dearly. That was the longest you went without seeing him, but he contacted you every single day so it made you feel a little bit better. So why was he wanting to see you so badly?

“Yeah sure. Give me ten minutes. I’ll see you soon. Drive safely.” As soon as you heard him hang up, you practically leaped out of bed and ran straight to your bathroom. Mark has seen you at both your best and your very worst. He made it known that he didn’t care if you looked like an actual ogre, nor did you want to make it obvious that you wanted to look nice for him but you didn’t want him seeing you with your hair all over the place while your breath smelled horrendous.

You threw on one of his jackets and a pair of shorts while flat ironing your hair and before you knew it, he texted you that he was downstairs. Once you made it down to the lobby, your breath hitched at the sight of him and all his handsome glory. His hair was disheveled; it was obvious he ran his hand through it a couple times. He was leaning against his pick up truck and although it was dark, you could make out that he was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants with a white tank top. You silently cursed him for going to the gym more often in his downtime because his arms grew three times the size they were back in high school. When his eyes landed on your visibly exhausted frame, he sent a cheeky smile your way before opening his arms out to you.

“Mmm, I’ve missed your hugs.” He pulled you closer to his chest and placed his chin on top of your head. The two of you stood there for a couple of seconds before he pulled away to take a good look at you. If you had the choice, you’d allow him to hold you for the rest of the night. Mark’s arms were your favorite place to be. You always felt so safe in his embrace. He was always so warm and smelled like the cologne you bought him that he’s been looking at for a few months.

“You know y/n, once finals are over I think you need to sleep for a solid two months straight. These dark circles are taking away from your beauty.” He brought his hands up to your cheeks and began to examine your entire face but you were quick to shove him off. If he continued to caress you like the way he was currently doing, you were sure you’d blow your cover and you did not want the night to end before it even started. Although he’s complimented you on your looks many times in the many years you’ve known him for, you could never get used to hearing him tell you how pretty he thought you were.

“You’re one to talk grandpa. BamBam told me all about how you almost broke your back the other day when you attempted to do a martial art trick. How many times do I have to remind you that you’re no longer the fifteen-year-old boy that you used to be? I swear to God Mark Tuan if you break a bone, I will kick your ass.” His laughter filled the entire parking lot and you found yourself laughing along with him. For a grown man, his laugh was high pitched and very adorable. You were sure he could light up an entire room by letting out the faintest of giggles, his laughter already did wonders on your heart.

“Even if I do break a bone, you’ll nurse me back to health right?” You scoffed and playfully rolled your eyes but deep down you knew you’d do anything for the devastatingly handsome boy in front of you. You also wouldn’t mind having a reason to stay by his side for as long as possible. Like the gentleman he was, he opened your door for you and helped you buckle your seatbelt. You were sure he saw it as a friendly gesture and you knew he wanted to help you out as much as possible, but you couldn’t handle him bringing his hand across of your chest and down to your upper thigh. It’s as if he knew exactly what he was doing by helping you.

When he got in to his side of the car and started to reverse out of the stall, his free hand immediately found your lap like it normally did and he began to drive away. To where, you didn’t know nor did you care. You didn’t care where the two of you went, you just loved being around him. The car ride was filled with laughter, mainly yours because Mark turned the radio to the country station and began singing a couple songs out of tune and in the worst country accent you’ve ever heard.

It was in moments like these where it was just the two of you, laughing and smiling like idiots that made you feel the most unhappy. You were unhappy because you wanted more. You wanted to be the reason behind his contagious smile. You wanted to be the reason he couldn’t go to sleep at night because his thoughts were so clouded by the idea of you. You wanted to be his motivation; you wanted him to do the best in anything that he did with the idea of making you proud. You wanted to be the one he told his friends and family about. But you were only his best friend. Every time he introduced you as his best friend, it felt like a stab to the chest. However, it was the truth; so you had no reason to be bothered by the fact that that was all you were going to be to him.

“Something wrong bub?” You were too busy thinking about the unfortunate situation you were in and didn’t get to hear Mark ask you if you wanted something to eat.

“No, I’m okay. Sorry, it’s just—finals. Yeah. I can’t stop thinking about my possible grades. I’m sorry, I’ll stop. Tonight is about us. What were you saying?” He waited till he pulled up at a stoplight before turning to face you and brought some of your hair behind your ear.

“Hey, don’t stress too much. I’m sure you did amazing like you always do. If only you allowed me to tutor you more, I’m sure you would’ve had an easier time understanding the material. What? Am I not good enough for the all mighty y/n y/l/n? By the way, I decided with going to McDonalds since you didn’t answer. I’m in the mood for a McChicken—don’t look at me like that. What? Come on y/n—where do you want to go then? You drive me nuts woman. Popeyes? You’re in the mood for fried chicken? At 2:30 in the morning? Why can I already see you wanting fried chicken when you’re pregnant one day? I feel like it’ll be one of the foods you’ll crave the most. You know I’d do anything for you and I can’t wait till you become a mother, I’m sure you’ll be such an amazing mom. But don’t you dare wake me up in the middle of the night for fried chicken I will disown you. You’re lucky you’re cute. Their chicken sandwich better taste as good as McDonalds.”

You knew you wanted Mark around for the rest of your life; you wanted to be best friends forever. Unfortunately, nobody knows what the future holds. For all you knew, he could get a girlfriend sometime soon and she could disapprove of your friendship; causing you to lose connection with one another. The idea of losing Mark was both mentally and physically painful. You could actually feel your chest tighten at the thought of waking up one morning and no longer having him in your life. With that being said, no matter how many times he’s brought up your future together, it always caused butterflies to swarm in your tummy.

“I hate burdening you if I can handle doing something on my own. You already have so much to deal with, so tutoring me should be the least of your worries. Whatever you say asshole, I’m sure my future husband would be willing to do that for me and I’ll make sure I’ll rub it in your face. Dude, Popeyes shits on McDonalds. Are you joking? Why am I even friends with you, you’re such a loser with bad taste.” You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the entire conversation, but as soon as you realized Mark wasn’t laughing, you turned to face him and froze when you saw his jaw clench and his grip on the wheel tightened.

Did you say or do something to upset him? Why did he get mad all of a sudden? As you were about to speak up, he made his way through the Popeyes drive thru and began ordering. You smiled like an idiot to yourself when he gave your order to the cashier. Although you ordered the same meal almost every single time, you found it cute that he memorized what you wanted. Once he paid and got the food, he drove down an all too familiar road you’ve been down quite a few times. Both you and Mark had a special place only the two of you knew of. You stumbled upon it one day after getting in to an argument with your parents and ended up bringing Mark there a couple days later. The two of you would go there whenever you both had free time. It was a nice, deserted beach.

During the day, it was extremely beautiful but at night, it was indescribable. Especially because you spent most of your time there with Mark. Some days, the two of you would swim, skip rocks or attempt to build sand castles. Other days, more so when you went at night, he would lie on your lap and have you run your fingers through his hair while the two of you would listen to the waves crash on the shore. You’d find yourself looking at him adoringly and there was one time you were so close to connecting your lips together, but you chickened out and clumsily ended up pushing him off of your lap.

The car ride was tense and he didn’t say anything the entire time. You decided to allow him to speak up when he was ready. It was something you learned throughout the duration of your friendship. Mark was short tempered. He would lash out on people at the smallest of things, but you were very understanding and extremely patient whenever it came to his mood swings. He’s apologized for it many times and did his best to work on it because he hated lashing out on you of all people, but some days he just couldn’t help himself. As soon as he parked the car, he motioned for you to get out and made his way to his trunk. He immediately hopped in the back without helping you like he usually did and when he saw that you weren’t getting inside and that your arms were crossed in frustration, he let out an irritated grunt.

“What? Get in here. Do I have to help you with everything?” It was your turn to scoff. How did he go from singing to the top of his lungs at a Carrie Underwood song to giving you the cold shoulder?

“If you’re going to be an asshole for no reason, you can just take me home right now. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did or said to upset you but I’m sorry.” There were situations where Mark was in the wrong, but you’d find yourself apologizing because he was never one to give in. He was the definition of stubborn. However, you noticed that you were the only person that he’d give up his pride for. He hated the thought of upsetting you and putting the two of you in to an awkward situation. So he’d apologize as soon as he knew things were going south and tonight was no different. Right as you were about to open your door, you felt him gently grip at your wrist and before you knew it, he was picking you up bridal style before jumping on to his truck bed.

“I’m sorry, I’m just being stupid. Please forget all about it okay? Fuck, I’ve ruined our night together didn’t I? I’m so sorry y/n.” You shook your head before leaving a quick peck on his cheek. Kissing each other was a normal thing between you and Mark. The two of you would kiss each other’s foreheads and cheeks all the time. Sometimes he’d even kiss your nose, your chin and even your shoulder blade but he had yet to kiss you where you wanted to kiss him the most.

“Talk to me Mark. What’s bothering you?” You intertwined your fingers together and gave him your full attention. You knew something had to be heavy on his mind and you wanted him to be honest with you. He pulled his hands away from yours to your disappointment and scratched the back of his neck before taking a bite of his food.

“Y/n I love—this chicken sandwich holy shit. This is good. I don’t know why I was settling for that pathetic excuse of a chicken patty at McDonalds. It’s nothing okay? Don’t worry about me. Eat your food, I know how you get when your chicken isn’t crispy and I don’t want you complaining later.” The two of you sat in silence eating your meals and you hated the fact that the atmosphere was filled with animosity. Once the two of you were both finished, he pulled you on to his lap and rested his chin in the crook of your neck.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” You shrugged before leaning back in to his embrace. It was weird how the two of you could go from arguing one minute to cuddling as if nothing happened the next but you never questioned it.

“Probably staying in all day. Oh—I need to go to target. You drank all of my milk and failed to tell me. I’ve been eating my cereal DRY for the last week thank you very much.”

“Can I come? I think I need some groceries too.” You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at the idea of Mark shopping for his own groceries. The older boy practically lived at your apartment. Sometimes you would even offer to look for an apartment together but your mutual friend Jackson always complained about you “stealing his roommate”. A lot of his clothes were sitting in your closet, he brought over some of his toiletries each and every time he slept at your apartment, most of the cubby holes in your shoe rack were taken up by him and he even bought an Xbox specifically to leave it at your place. You wouldn’t mind living with Mark, but sometimes you were glad Jackson was so adamant on keeping him at their place. Sharing the same space with him would surely drive your feelings through the roof.

“You mean some groceries to leave over at my place. You never go shopping for your own shit. Sometimes I feel like you’re only friends with me because you like mooching off of me and because I help keep you alive. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be taking your vitamins everyday and your health wouldn’t be as good as it is now.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. You grocery shop for fun, who the fuck does that? Oh yeah, OLD PEOPLE. Don’t sound so upset, you had fun the last time I came with you to the grocery store.”

You giggled at the memory before turning around to flick his forehead. “You almost got us kicked out because you were fighting with a six-year-old over a Chewbacca figurine.”

“IT WAS THE LAST ONE Y/N. I HAD IT FIRST. The punk just had to start crying and his mom came telling me I was immature for fighting with a first grader.”

“You know sometimes I forget that you’re a 23-year-old senior in college and not the same 12-year-old boy from middle school. I love that you’re still a child at heart by the way. Sometimes the adult life can get a little hectic. You’re like my personal escape. Like, a breath of fresh air. I don’t say it all that often, but I’m very grateful for you. You mean a lot to me, more than you’ll ever know Tuan.” If you were facing him right now, you’d be able to see how red you made him by your sweet words. He left a gentle kiss on your jaw before leaning himself further in to the truck and pulling you down with him. The two of you stayed like that for almost two hours, stargazing and basking in the other’s presence. No words were shared but the silence spoke volumes.

You couldn’t help but think back to a few hours ago when he was about to admit why he was so bothered but instead admitted his love for the chicken sandwich. Was he finally going to tell you how he felt for you but lost the courage as the L word fell from his lips? Why did he always have to make things so difficult? When you noticed the sun slowly making its appearance against the shoreline, you squeezed Mark’s bicep to let him know that maybe it was time to go home.

“Since we’re hanging out later today anyway, did you want to come over to my place? Or we can head back to yours? It doesn’t really matter. If you wanna be by yourself, that’s fine too. I’ll just drop you off and come back later.” You gave him a soft smile before sitting up right and reaching over to play around with his hair.

“Let’s go to yours. I wouldn’t mind spending time with Jackson and I miss my baby Milo.” He nodded in agreement and helped you down before making his way to his side of the car. Once he began to drive away, a small frown rose upon your face when he didn’t move his hand to your thigh. This was the first time in a long time that he drove with both hands and you knew that something was genuinely bothering him.

You tried to take your mind off of Mark and put all your focus to everything you’d see while he drove to what you thought was going to be his apartment. However, it seemed as if he was taking a detour down different neighborhoods and you were surprised when you took a peek to see how fast he was driving and found out he wasn’t going fast at all. In fact, he was going under the speed limit. Something must’ve struck a nerve with him; Mark was known for his speed. He hated slow drivers and hated being in traffic which is why you found it unusual for him to be going at such a slow pace.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He released a soft sigh as he turned in to his apartment structure and nodded slowly.

“Just tired. You’re not the only one staying up late to study. Oh, before I forget, you’re never a burden y/n. I’m never too busy for you. Actually, you’re one of my main priorities. So don’t feel like you can’t approach me if you need my help. Come on, let’s get you upstairs.” When the two of you made it up to his place, he tried his best to quietly open the door knowing that Jackson was still asleep. As soon as the two of you made your way in, Milo was all over you. You lowered yourself down to the little puppy and picked him up while leaving kisses all around his face.

“Hi Milo! I’m glad to see you missed me. I missed you too cutie pie. Has daddy been taking good care of you and feeds you the snacks I bought?” You made your way to Mark’s bedroom and scoffed when you saw how neat it was. For someone who was constantly busy, why was his room so clean? Your room was in the exact state as your life, messy. Since you’ve been in here more times than you could count, you walked over to your side of the bed and laid down. He was quick to join you but not before taking off his shirt.

You were used to Mark being shirtless, so you learned how to control your emotions and facial expressions over the years to prevent yourself from making it aware that you enjoyed it. However, you could feel your breath going shallow, especially when he would pull you in to his embrace like he was currently doing so right now. He wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his cheek against yours so that your faces were practically smashed together. The two of you weren’t strangers to spooning and cuddling, but there were times that you’d feel something hard against your thigh every now and then so Mark would keep his distance whenever it came to holding you.

Not too long after the two of you got in to bed, you felt his warm breath against your neck as soft snores fell from his lips. You on the other hand could not find it in yourself to fall asleep. Your mind was too clouded with the events that happened during your drive and it confused you more than you already were. You began to let your eyes wander around his bedroom and giggled softly to yourself when you saw the Chewbacca figure on his desk. When you felt something vibrate in your back pocket, you remembered you put your phone in there and quickly brought it out to turn it off to prevent any noise from waking Mark up.

As you reached to put your phone on his night stand, your heart fluttered at the photo of you from your senior prom back in high school. You remembered that night like it was yesterday. Mark was quick to ask you to be his date and you agreed right off the bat. Even at that time, you knew you wanted all your best memories to be shared with him. Your parents were extremely excited when they found out that the two of you were going together. They were all secretly hoping that you and Mark would end up with each other one day but they never did or said anything because they waited for the two of you to discover your feelings on your own. Even your mom claimed that she had a huge feeling that Mark had developed a crush on you but you never believed her.

How could you though? You and Mark have been friends for almost a decade and he never showed signs of taking things further between the two of you. Prom night was one of the best nights of your entire high school career and you knew it had a lot to deal with the person who’s arms you were currently in. He bought you the prettiest bouquet and corsage, complimented you at least twenty times on how beautiful you looked, he even made it clear that you were the prettiest girl there but you knew he was just saying that because he was your best friend. The two of you danced almost the entire night and he entered a game in order to win an expensive pair of speakers which was currently sitting on your kitchen counter.

Any time spent with Mark was amazing. He gave you his full attention and made sure you were having a good time no matter what the two of you were doing. Slowly, in attempts not to wake him, you found yourself turning around in order to take a good look at him. You gently began to trace his handsome features and you had to stifle a laugh when his nose scrunched, probably from being tickled. Why did you have to be such a coward? Why couldn’t you just tell him how you felt no matter the consequences? Finally, after contemplating what you would do about your feelings for Mark, you placed a kiss on his nose and fell asleep.

When you woke up, you weren’t shocked to see that Mark was still asleep. He was an extremely heavy sleeper. There were so many times he’s found himself late to school and practice because he slept through his alarm. You took a few moments to get used to the light that was coming through his window before trying your best to leave his embrace without waking him up and when you succeeded, you turned on your phone to see what time it was and made your way into the living room. As you were about to head in to the kitchen to find something to make for you and Mark, you failed to notice Jackson on the couch, smiling at you like an idiot.

“Good morning sunshine. Looks like somebody got a nice rest while wrapped up in your loverboy’s arms. He’s still asleep isn’t he?” You jumped at the sound of his voice, not knowing that he was there with you and rolled your eyes at his sarcastic statement. Jackson was known to be a prankster. He always made snide remarks about your relationship with Mark and he would always hint to you every now and then that Mark had feelings for you but just like how you were when your mom confronted you about your feelings, you couldn’t believe Jackson either. No matter how badly you wanted to.

“Of course he is. I slept like a baby. Hey, what’s with you guys and being shirtless all the time? Do neither of you own any shirts?” The cheeky boy winked at you before pulling you in for a hug.

“Gotta flaunt off the goods while we still have them. You can take off your shirt too if you want. I wouldn’t mind seeing you shirtless—ow! You’re always so abusive whenever it comes to me. It’s not like I haven’t seen you practically naked before.” You ignored him while making your way to the fridge and looking for something to cook. The two of you began to update each other on what you both did in the last few weeks since you’ve seen each other. He updated you on how basketball season was going so far and invited you to some of his games.

The two of you continued your conversation and he brought up something that caught your attention. “Hey y/n, I know you’re not one to drink, but there’s more than just alcohol involved whenever we go out to bars and clubs. Why don’t you come with us? I’m sure Mark would finally come out with us if he knew you were tagging along. Come on, we all know baking desserts, playing modern warfare and staying up watching reruns of the office together is fun, well; for you guys. But you and Mark need to get out and do something college-like for once. You know how many times Mark has cancelled plans with us just so he could spend time with you? God, you both are so smart yet so stupid.”

Mark was cancelling out on plans with the guys in order to hang out with you?You tried your best not to show to Jackson that his confession made you feel all warm and giddy on the inside. As the retaliation was on the tip of your tongue, Mark released a yawn to make it known he was in the room. “Ah, if it isn’t the devil himself. I was just inviting y/n to come out with us to the club on Saturday. You coming?”

Mark gave you a look of curiosity before walking toward the fridge. “Y/n hates the club. And we can’t, we already have plans.”

It was your turn to look at him in confusion. You don’t remember making any plans with Mark and most of your so called “plans” consisted of the two of you laying around your apartment doing nothing. Jackson shrugged, not surprised by his older friend’s response and gave you a knowing look.

“Yeah, but she said so herself she wouldn’t mind letting loose since we only have one year left in college. Y/n must not know about your plans because she said she’d be down to come. Don’t be such a party pooper Mark, hang out with us. You’ve been already missing out on so much of our gatherings anyway. It’ll be fun!” Y

ou felt him before you could see him. He found his place behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders while hiding his face between your shoulder blades and let out a frustrated grunt. “Fine! Whatever. But only if y/n is going. I don’t know why you want me to come out with you guys anyway. You all get drunk the minute we walk in and flirt with anyone that has legs. I always end up driving you drunk bastards home. Quite the college experience of you ask me.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his sarcasm and began plating the bacon, eggs and fried rice you made for the three of your for breakfast. Other than the constant laughter that fell from your lips whenever Jackson and Mark would bicker over nonsense, you stayed quiet and focused on eating while they conversed. Once you all were done eating, Jackson mentioned throwing on a movie but Mark was quick to shut him down. You had a feeling it had to do with what happened the last time you all watched a movie together. Before you could sit down, Jackson pulled you on to his lap and refused to let you go. The daggers Mark sent through the back of Jackson’s head didn’t go unnoticed by you; in fact it made you quite happy. You loved how protective he was whenever it came to you.

“Y/n and I actually have plans today. We need to go grocery shopping.” Jackson’s brow raised in amusement.

“We? You’re actually buying food for us?”

“No. I’m going to buy food to eat whenever I’m at her place. When do I ever eat here?”

As soon as the two of them finished their bickering, you said your goodbyes to Jackson and made your way to the grocery store. One thing that Mark never failed to do was make a fool out of you every single time you took him grocery shopping. However, you couldn’t say you didn’t have fun whenever he would tag along. If the two of you were to go at night, he would jump in the shopping cart and have you push him around. But in most cases, he’d stand behind you and practically trap you between his body and the cart while taking over to push. He forced you to go in and out of every aisle to make sure the two of you weren’t missing anything.

“Y/n, serious question, Doritos or Cheetos puffs?” You thought about it for a few seconds before giving him your answer.

“Doritos.”

“Okay, Cheetos puffs it is.” You scowled at him but before you could really react, he was driving the cart in the other direction. As soon as you felt that you were finished, you pulled to the side to make sure you had everything you needed and nothing you didn’t.

“Cheese in a can? Really Mark? You’re not even going to eat it—“ he was quick to cover your mouth and you counterattacked by licking his hand.

“Lick it all you want, I’m in to stuff like that.”

“Ew gross.”

To your dismay, Mark handed the cashier his card and paid for the entirety of your groceries. This wasn’t the first time he’s done this. Whenever he tagged along with you, he’d always end up paying for your groceries no matter how much the bill came out to and his excuse was because he used and ate a lot of your groceries.

After returning back to your apartment and the two of you put the groceries away, you spent the rest of the day reading a book while found his way on to your lap and played grand theft auto for a couple of hours. These were the days you loved the most. Although he was quite loud and violent whenever it came to his video games, you felt at peace and the most serene when it was just the two of you lounging around.

“Hey y/n?” You hummed in curiosity and placed your book down in order to give him your full attention. “This morning, when you talked about your future husband and shit like that—do you—do you actually want to get married? Like, you want a wedding and to spend the rest of your life with someone?”

You thought about the exact moment he was referring to and nodded in agreement. That was around the same time he grew angry and you couldn’t help but feel as if the idea of you ending up with someone else bothered him. “Of course I do. I’ve dreamt about having a beautiful, big wedding surrounded with all my friends and family. I like to look at wedding dresses and rings from time to time. How come? Don’t you?”

He shrugged before continuing to play his game; the way he tensed up at your response caught your attention. “I guess. I don’t know, I don’t see myself settling down with anyone I guess. I don’t want anyone getting in between us. I refuse to live without you y/n.” You smiled softly before placing a gentle kiss on his neck. Sometimes you felt like the skin ship you shared was beyond normal than what most friends did. But the two of you were used to it.

The kisses on your jaw, your neck, behind your ear; it wasn’t normal for friends to do things like that but here the two of you were. It never bothered you, in fact there were times where you couldn’t stop kissing him and had to forcefully stop yourself in fear of him finding it weird.

“I think that’s why I’ve been single for so long. Since you are—well—you, my standards in men are pretty high. So I’d want them to be at least half the man that you are. Honestly, you and I should just get married.” His breath hitched and it was in that moment where you knew you fucked up.

“I mean—you know. If both of us are still single once we reach thirty—then I would marry you—you know—if you asked.” You let out a sarcastic laugh and wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“You would? Really? You’d want to marry me?” You nodded, shocked that he found it surprising. He was the only person you saw yourself getting married to, but you still had yet to make your friendship change in to a relationship.

“Of course I’d want to marry you Mark. You’re my best friend. Why? Do you not want to marry me?” He placed the controller down and turned around to face you. The conversation was soon turning pretty serious. Mark never turned his video game off for anybody, not even you. His xbox was the only thing before you that he paid more attention to.

“Of course I do. Nobody comes close to you y/n. Let’s make a pact, if were both single when we turn thirty, we jump the gun and marry each other. Deal?”

You grinned like a school girl at the idea of marrying Mark one day and nodded quickly before intertwining your pinkies together. Mark returned back to his game and you with your book but not too long after, you found yourself falling asleep on top of Mark’s back and he giggled at the feeling.

“You’re the only girl I want to marry.”

They don't almost say "I love you" When they're downtown somewhere, just a little drunk They don't talk about the future and put each other in it And get chills with every accidental touch

Two days later, you were at home studying for your last final of the semester when you felt your phone vibrating. You tried your best to hide it in attempts to focus on your many notes in front of you, but you couldn’t help but look at it from time to time and saw that Mark was out at a bar with Jackson, BamBam, Jinyoung and Jaebum.

You let out a giggle at every video of the guys forcing each other to take shots and you couldn’t help but wish you went with them. Forcing five months of notes in to your brain in one night was driving you insane. Seeing Mark’s name made your heart flutter, just like it normally did and right as you were about to let it go to voicemail, you answered his call.

You haven’t seen him since he left your place right after the two of you ate dinner. He knew you had to study, so he wanted to give you his space but you found yourself typing out his number a couple of times because you missed his presence but ended up deleting the text completely.

“Y/nnnnnnnnn. Hey, how’s the studying going? I miss you. You should’ve came.” You knew he was drunk and there was nothing more entertaining than a drunk Mark Tuan especially because he wasn’t one to drink all that often. In fact, alcohol changed him in to a completely different person. If he had a few shots of liquid courage in him, he could tell you the history of the Pillsbury dough boy.

“You’re drunk.”

“And you’re beautiful. Your point is?” You mentally cursed the guys for allowing him to get so drunk but he was making your extremely boring night all the more fun.

“Where’s the guys?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere here on earth. Why do you care about them huh? Focus on me. I’m the only one you should be thinking about. You’re the only one I ever think about—and I think about you all the time y/n.”

Every word that fell from his lips tugged on your heartstrings but you were smart enough to know not to believe him. He was drunk and had no idea what he was admitting to you right now. “Mark—“

“I love you. Y/n. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. I don’t know why you were so surprised to—to hear that I want to marry you—look at you. You’re the most ethereal human being in the world. You’re so beautiful and you—you make me so happy. I love you, I love you, I love you. I know you’re studying for biology right now, but do you think you could learn to love me?”

You didn’t even realize you were holding in your breath the entire time he was confessing his love for you. Even if he was drunk, his words sounded so sincere. You didn’t know what to say, it was too much to take in. Were you hallucinating? Did staying up all those hours finally drive you to the brink of insanity? Before you could find the courage to respond, you heard murmuring through the phone and soon Jaebum’s voice was replacing Mark’s.

“Hey, do you mind coming to pick him up? He’s drunk off his ass if it wasn’t already obvious. You don’t have to worry your pretty little head about the rest of us. We’re all fine. It’s Mark who ended up drinking a little too much.”

“Of course. Can you text me your location? I’ll be there soon. Take care of him for me would you?” You debated on taking a taxi, your mind was too clouded with his entire confession and you didn’t think you were in your right mind to be driving but you didn’t want to have to wait for one while taking care of a drunk Mark by yourself. Why couldn’t the guys just take him back with them? They were the ones who allowed him to get so drunk, why were they making him your responsibility?

The entire drive to the bar was mind wrecking and you even found yourself running a few red lights. What was going to happen when you had him all to yourself? When you pulled up to the bar, your eyes immediately landed on the group of boys hovering over who you assumed to be Mark. Smiles all rose on their faces as soon as they saw you approaching but you were too focused on making sure Mark was okay.

“Can I get some help to my car please?” Jackson and Jinyoung wrapped their arms around his shoulders and carried him to your car while BamBam and Jaebum walked alongside you.

“I guess it’s out there.” You looked at BamBam in curiosity and earned yourself a knowing look.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about y/n. I can’t believe it took him getting drunk to confess his feelings for you, but it had to come out somehow and he obviously wasn’t going to tell you how he feels sober. I’ve never seen someone as in love with a person like Mark is with you. That boy looks at you like the sun shines out of your ass. You must be blind not to see it. And don’t get me started when it comes to how much he talks about you. Whenever he actually comes out with us, you’re all he talks about. “Y/n loves coming here.” “Y/n showed me that last week.” “I hope y/n did good on her test.” “Did you guys see y/n last week? She looked so pretty in that dress.” I’m sure he could write a novel about the love he has for you—ow. What was that for?”

The younger boy rubbed his shoulder from where Jaebum hit him and you couldn’t help but snicker. “That’s enough. Let mark go in to depth about his love for her. If he finds out your dumb ass practically confessed his feelings for him, you’re going to have to catch the bus home. Drive safely y/n. Let us know when you get home. And good luck with him. Please do something with the information you found out tonight. It’s been long enough don’t you think?”

The boys all pulled you in for quick hugs and you began to drive away, making your way back to your apartment. He looked so peaceful yet so inebriated. His cheeks were pink and his eyelids were swollen yet he still looked so good. You hesitantly reached for his cheek and grazed you’re thumb against his Cupid’s bow.

“You silly, silly boy. What am I going to do with you?” Bringing him upstairs by yourself was a challenge. If waking him up while he was sober was hard, attempting to get him up from his slumber was even more difficult. Not only did he not wake up at every single attempt of shaking him and practically whisper yelling in his ear, but his body was practically deadweight. What normally was a two minute walk from your parking lot to your apartment took almost twenty minutes. You praised yourself once you made it to your front door and dragged him inside, pulling him towards your room. His breath wreaked of alcohol and you weren’t sure if you wanted to try and get him to brush his teeth but after a while, you ultimately decided against it. Why put yourself through even more work for you?

You took off his clothes and helped change him in to one of the shirts he left at your place before heading back in to the kitchen to get him a bottle of water and painkillers you knew he would need in the morning. After changing your clothes and preparing yourself for bed, you found your place next to Mark and brought his face in to your hands. With his confession and reassurance from both Jaebum and BamBam, you were confident in your decision to confront and confess your love for him when he was completely sober. You gave yourself a few moments to admire the handsome boy in front of you and placed a soft kiss on his lips before sleep finally took over.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of something rustling and a soft groan that you knew came from Mark. He released an exhausted sigh before pulling you closer to his chest. You decided to pretend you were still asleep in order to see what his next move would be and when you felt the multiple kisses along the back of your neck, it took every bone in your body not to react. “If only you knew.”

“Knew what?” The scream that filled your room on top of the thud that came when Mark fell off your bed made you erupt in laughter. You quickly ran over to his side to help him back up on top of the bed but your giggles still continued. He glared at you and crossed his arms out of frustration and you decided to give him a break.

“You little shit. You scared me. How did I—why am I here?” You knew he was trying to redirect your attention away from his confession and you were going to play along for a few minutes before taking your confrontation head on.

“You got piss drunk and the boys called me over to come get you.”

“Those assholes. I always take them home after their drunken stupors, I don’t know why they can’t do the same for me. They should know better than to bother you. You’re already tired as it is already. I’m sorry about that.” You shook your head before handing him a few pain killers and the water bottle.

“It’s totally fine Mark. How are you feeling?” He groaned.

“Like shit. I um—I didn’t say anything embarrassing did I?” This was it. It was time to finally find out for yourself what Mark’s exact feelings for you were. Although it has been hinted to you many times, and the truth came out last night, you wanted to hear him say it himself, sober.

You didn’t give yourself any time to think before your lips connected with his. It felt so natural to you. You cupped his cheeks with your palms as your lips moved softly against his. However, once you tasted the alcohol and noticed he wasn’t reacting, you pulled away.

“W—what—did you just—did we—am I still drunk? I have to be. There’s no way—why did you stop? What the fuck is going on?” His stammering was extremely adorable and before you could respond, his lips were back on yours. Kissing Mark felt too good to be true. His lips melded perfectly with yours, as if the two of you were made to kiss one another.

“You told me you loved me last night. This is my way of letting you know I feel the exact same way. I’ve been in love with you for so many years, I can’t even count how long on my hands. I never thought I was good enough for you, nor did I think there was a chance you would ever feel the same. I was always just your best friend. The idea of us being something more than friends was an unrealistic daydream I would hope and pray would become a reality. Over the course of our friendship, our parents, friends and even our teachers would try and tell me that you harbored feelings for me but I never believed anybody. We’ve been friends for so long already. If you liked me, you would’ve done something about it a long time ago. I really wanted to confess my feelings for you on many occasions, but the idea of losing you was one I couldn’t even fathom.”

With the way he was looking at you with so much love and adoration in his eyes at your confession you were sure you’d melt in to a puddle right there. “You’re my best friend Mark. My person. My soulmate. Hearing you tell me that you love me is such a beautiful and indescribable feeling. I meant it when I said I would marry you because I knew you were the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. There’s nobody else but you Mark. You’re it for me.”

He brought some of your hair behind your ear and just as he was about to kiss you, you dodged his lips no matter how badly you wanted to feel them against yours again.

“You just confessed your feelings for me, let me kiss you—“

“Brush your teeth first stinky and then we’ll talk.” He rolled his eyes before stomping over to your bathroom.

“The love of my life is denying me kisses I can’t believe this bullshit—“ the blush was warm on your cheeks and you knew if you were to look in a mirror that you’d be as red as a tomato right now but you didn’t care; Mark had that effect on you. You could hear how rough and quick he was brushing his teeth and the thought of him rushing in order to kiss you again made your heart flutter. Soon, he clumsily made his way toward you and practically tackled you on to the bed. He wasted no time attacking your face with kisses and finally bringing his lips to yours.

You would have never thought, in all your years of being friends with Mark that you would one day have him hovering over you with his grip tight on your waist as your tongues battled for dominance, roughly clashing against each other. Kissing Mark was otherworldly. His lips were soft and melded well against yours and the way he was touching you, so gentle yet so seductively was driving you insane. You playfully brought his bottom lip in between your teeth and the growl that came from the back of his throat sent chills down your spine.

“Fuck—shit—fuck—you—you’re so beautiful y/n. So fucking beautiful and extremely sexy. God, I am so, so in love with you baby. Ugh, I love how it sounds calling you that. Baby. You are MY baby.”

He grinned widely and stole one more kiss from the corner of your mouth before continuing. “As much as I did not want to go out last night, I needed something else to consume my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about you and how badly I wanted you to be mine. You know how hard it is? Seeing that breathtaking smile of yours, hearing that contagious laughter than makes me smile like an idiot, holding you in my arms, running my fingers through your hair and not being able to kiss you? Not being able to hold your hand and letting the world know that you’re mine? It was torture y/n. From the day we became friends, I knew you were meant to be someone special in my life. I just didn’t know how special nor did I know how much you would mean to me. You’re my entire world y/n.” He pulled you on to his lap and softly cupped your cheeks.

“You are the most selfless, hardworking, generous, kind-hearted, caring and extremely supportive person I’ve ever met. You are the reason I put so much effort and energy in to every little thing that I do. I want you to be proud of me. If you’ve been wondering why I get so angry whenever it comes to you and another guy; like you and Jackson that one movie night, you and Jinyoung when we played spin the bottle, hell, even a few nights ago when you talked about your future husband, it’s because I was jealous. The thought of you loving someone else, kissing someone else, settling down and starting a family with someone who isn’t me sends an upsetting feeling to my stomach. Pathetic isn’t it. I’m a coward who couldn’t act on my feelings because I was too afraid of your reaction so I had no right to be jealous. The reason I got so drunk last night was because BamBam and Jackson wouldn’t stop joking around about how cute you and Park Jinyoung would look together. Fuck Jinyoung—wait—don’t. The only person you’ll be fucking from now on is me. But I hope you know you’re stuck with me and my dick for the rest of your life. Now that I have you, you’re mine forever. I’m never letting you go. My beautiful y/n, I love you so much.”

He smiled in to the kiss as soon as he felt his lips on yours and quickly wiped away your tear as it fell down your cheek. “To think, if only I got you drunk earlier, we could been in this position sooner.”

“Well I heard that drunk sex is the best kind of sex, so if you want to take a few shots of tequila and celebrate our newfound relationship by bouncing on my dick for the rest of the day then I’m all for it—ow y/n—I’m going to let you know that slapping is only fun if I get to do it to you—I hope you’re this wild during sex. Honestly, what did I get myself into? I’m kidding—come back here. Let me love you baby!”

#got7 imagines #got7 #got7 mark #mark tuan #mark tuan imagines #got7 fluff

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