#like even looking at my face in the mirror is low-key creepy a lot of the time

[jellybracelet]

Being able to have sex with your clone is like the final boss of having a positive body image

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

The question I wanted to ask you has been stuck in my head for a long time.

You already answered the question (as i remember) where you were asked about your favorite scarecrow design, but what about the ones you don't like? Maybe even some kind of tier list in descending order from favorite to least favorite xD

oooh, okay! sure-sure, i can spill the beans about the designs! creating a tier list was such a great idea too btw! as it indeed made it a tad easier, considering that the scarecrow has a looot of designs. i won't go over every single one ever created, naturally. i would only adress the ones, i'm familiar with / seen around.

*for the usual disclaimer, everything below is just my opinion. so if someone really-really loves scarecrow designs, which i don't, that's cool with me. to some degree, i'll always try stan by 'i hope at least one person out there appreciate it' kind of mindset. i'm not here to mansplain why smth isn't good objectively, i'm merely here to chit-chat about it from my own fully subjective perspective.*

but welp, as it come to be, i predominantly an' historically feel aesthetically pleased by ‘simpler’ forms. or as i call it, a moderately detailed kinds of designs. that's one of the reasons why my heart will always stay with jonathan’s classic scarecrow designs. such as these ones :

(1) that's, like, my personal top tier. my 1:1s spookycrows.

i prefer it, when jon doesn’t bother to overcomplicate his spooky looks with any unnecessary trappings. partially, bc it doesn't make sense for his character to do it. he's a man of a few limited resources, even if it doesn't mean that he's one trick pony. but if we look at those fellas, aside from sticking straw, ropes, nooses an’ whatnot, they dom't have much else on them. jon's costume is also the sort, which can easily be repaired an' it still would fit the bill. as his looks supposed to be ragged an' worn. there is no posh with that guy. an' i deeply appreciate it, since crane is typically a fairly practical kind of villain. less so depending on his general looks an' more so on what works. i also have a hc, that he pretty much sews / crafts his costumes by himself, which gives it more grounded feel too.

i love his hats a lot too. a lot! *i just love hats lol* i generally, think that scarecrow shall have a hat or at least a hood, like he does in arkhamverse. it makes sense for his character to want smth to cover or shadow his face with. mask or not.

speaking of which, features wise, i think, that him having eye-slits or just well, eye-holes in his mask really gives a nice contrast to batman’s own mask. as bruce’s mouth / jaw is always exposed. meanwhile, you typically don’t see his eyes, just those milky slits. for crane, it feels appropriate to mirror it, while his own mouth isn’t shown, but his mask does have a grotesque, stitched parody on it. there are some classic-inspired designs of him, which expose both of his eyes an’ his mouth, mainly teeth, but ah … can’t say, that i’m fan of it. i do love some uh ... mystery to that mouth of his lol.

(1) with this being said, i do also love classic desings of jonathan, where his mask is literally just a sack, that gives us idea of his features, but not much else.

he can still somewhat emote though that as the fabric clings to his face. creating shadows / outlines of his expressions behind the mask. but naturally, it’s a bit less poetic an’ functional, than the first one. it's also a tad less creepy looking too! for jonathan, i always think that actually knowing that there is a man underneath his mask an' less so a creature, is more eeriery. it gives him a more proper serial killer / sadistic professor vibe, vs when his face is fully covered. tho as i said, i do love those a ton still! the visually wise, there can be some fun stuff done with it. to a degree, this is low-key reminds me of rorschach's mask, where the only way you can tell what he feels is those black moving bolts. an' that's some clever writing / visual gimmick, truly. an' there is no way, that i wouldn't be facinated an' charmed by all those possibilities!

(1) an' on the topic of possibilities, i feel like kelley jones's scarecrows deserved their own spot as well, alongside with the first row, as while he also technically draws crane's classic spooky designs, he also takes a lot of liberaty with how horrifying an' macabre, he might make it look.

it really feels like crane's mask is almost as 'alive' as the face would, bc of how it shifts along with his emotions, an' intrigued by this effect for him. even if it's like a trick of one's imagination. also love how in the place, where his nose should be, it looks like a hollow point you'd see on a naked human skull. love this detail a lot! not to meantion, that jones also draws scarecrow with two other atributes, that i adore aka big hats an' clawed fingers. also props to him for drawing batman with huge capes an' big bat eras too just to mirror it. esp since when it comes to batman, i cannot stand designs where bruce's cowl have those stumby, odd-looking, short ears. it looks so ugly to me lol.

(2) but now, that we wrapped up the first tier, the second place, goes to those fellas :

even if they do feel like they can only work in specific timelines an' settings, i do appreciate what they have going on. the first one is like a mixture between cute an' creepy, an' since that jon is most likely undead, this look suits him. like, i imagine that it is his face at this point. which is ironically enough can be said about ak!scarecrow too. he's maimed, sinister, an' generally i love how sickly he feels compared to other cranes. all the details that he has also have a purpose vs being there just for aestetics. the tubes as he apperently have troubles breathing properly sometimes, an' his leg brace are just such nice adding to how he is in that game overall. an' how much it suggests an' shows just wait for me to write my fix it arkhamverse fic for me to exploit all of this also the fact, that he apprently cannot tie his own shoes an' have exposed ankles will always be hilirious to me. that does feel very jon. aa!scarecrow is also a gem in its own right. not only it's one of the most decent modern look for him, but it also does a good job between mixing BTAS an' comicverse scarecrow looks, creating a half-naked, but still frighteningly looking crane. also it was the first design that inproduced us the syringe freddy kruger glove, i believe. an' that thing is pretty dang wicked! an' then, the 4th scarecrow design in this row is ... well, i know for sure, that there is an action figure like that. but i can't say for sure from which comics it is. i love the look of it tho. like his long coat. skeletal mask. the straw, which is sticking out of his hat almost like a thorns of a makeshift crown *which if fitting, bc i think, that on box of his action figure it says 'prince of fear'* overall, he's a pretty fun looking crane! i'd like to one day see him in anything properly. like in a game or long comics.

(2) an' right next to them, in that very same tier, we have those guys :

the first one is a pure nightmare fuel an’ also gives off the vibes from ak!scarecrow with his gloves, coat an’ general feeling like he didn’t have a shower in a month, if not longer. i also love the idea of his mask being made of leather that time around, since it does suit this look he has going on. in comparison to that lovely monstrosity, 'the nightmare before christmas' scarecrow is endearing. an’ also so colorful. a combo of both classic look an’ just straight up hot topic goth. it's very-very 90s, an' i like how well this color pallete played with one of my most fav looks for catwoman too. just an eye candy all around. an’ lastly, if not the least, the BTAS muppet scarecrow as i call him, is also pretty dang cute in his own way. i’m generally not all that sold on scarecrow’s mask having straw hair tbh. since it’s like hair on top of hair to me, which does feel very strange for my brain. but i am somewhat fond of this design, or well, re-design for him, even if my pref lies with the op one. still, this scarecrow does can pull of way more creepy looking mask expressions, than his predecessor. tho, how exactly those teeth *an' what they are made of* is still puzzling to me. even if it does adds flavour to his looks.

(3) an' now, that we finished with goats an' kings, let's get to less personally benevolent ones. ironically enough, the fan favorites, which don’t exactly do it for me for various reasons. but i'd still consider them to be in a 'breaking', not bad tier. i don't dislike any of those per say, they just don't fully work for me.

so ah. the fear state scarecrow have a lot going on an’ maybe a bit too much for me lol. how he does anything at all, when both of his hands have syringe gloves is impressive. also returning back to those things, that i'm not super hot about, he doesn’t have just straw hair, he has a whole wig for some reason. an' a gas mask an' a poncho an' a huge hat. an' some kind of belt, i think ... overall, the design does look pretty striking an' impressive, but when i see it, my first thought ‘wow, he looks like a villain from an anime’, an’ that’s not my scarecrow. even if i like how he apparently wore baggy pants, an’ then when it was time to met batman, he switched to leather leggings instead *it literally looked like he had asked modern jack o' lnatern for his pants for this. an' then modern jack wore jon's baggy pants instead lol. just guys being bros an' switching pants betweem themselves* an' not far off from this, the scarecrow next to him also wears these same leggings from what i can see. i like his hat an’ mask, but everything past his neck is like uhhhh …. i dunno. a bit odd to me ...?? exposed arms with rolled up sleeves. a lil bag cape … strangely looking vest. overall kinda cute, but also too much skin showing. an' not randomly like with arkhamverse scarecrows, where it feels more accidental an' just generally shows that they really not-aware or really care about it. in here, it almost feels like an intentional douchy look somehow? maybe, that's just me. an' lastly the salecrow. when i see him, i have a very strong gothic, witchy prince vibes. which isn't all that bad per say, but also, i'm more into jon being a scrawny, haggard looking middle aged man vs when it feels like this version of him can be somewhat pretty in comparisson.

still, even with all of the lil personal nitpicks, all of those are decent. an' interesting looking. not to meantion, that i did want to try drawing both salecrow *after finally reading that comics* an' fear state scarecrow just for fun an' to see how i would feel after 'having those designs in hand'. while they don't cause any sudden pang of inspo inside my brain, i can easily understand people's appeal to any of those, even if myself don't vibe with it. an' i do respect creativity which went behind each of them!

(4) which cannot be said about the next tier. the 'just dude with the bag on their head' row, which is just lame to me. i look at them an' think 'man, i really dislike what i see' lol.

as this gotta be the most boring an' also kinda the most lazy designs for scarecrow out there. two of them are literally wearing freaking suits! an' then, the new 52 scarecrow straight up ripped off marvel's scarecrow, even colors wise an' now, there is literally zero difference between them, apperence wise. gotta be the most bizzare way to give marvel the middle finger. also, this tier is kinda funny, bc i can't even bitch at any creative choices here in details, considering that they all look rougly the same lol. they're just lil meh dudes.

(5) an' now finally, the tier, that i call 'i don't understand why it looks like this' an' 'who is that', respectivly.

we start soft tho. the gotham knight scarecrow wasn't much of the scarecrow, an' it shows. his design is both, kinda interesting, but also weird. i also wouldn't have known that this is supposed to be crane, unless it was openly said so. which the exact same case with the new batman adventures scarecrow for me. inside my mind, i call him jeepers creepers, since that what he is. how jonathan went from thiny, short nerd to this is a question. i guess, he was gremlin after all. someone must have fed him after midnight. bc this is the only explanation. but jokes aside, i was literally confused who this was as a kid, until they were like 'professor crane' an' i had to stare at my tv for a bit, bc for real ... this?? how? batman chocking the living hell out of him was low-key hot tho. but if this wasn't enough, right on this monster's heels, we have a cursed fusion of the joker an' the scarecrow. why they gave him that red mouth, i don't know, but i don't think that he needed one lol. love how his lipstick is more bright than batgirl's tho. i guess, it goes well with his fishman hat. but next to him, we have another buff, weird looking scarecrow ... with green hair. an' green arms. the hulk scarecrow. i don't know the exact timeline for this one. i just know that it's out there. existing. why an' for who, idk. but perhaps, someone saw this an' thought that they always wanted crane to look like this.

an' to finish this abomination tier off, there is that too. another oddly mainly, an' build scarecrow.

even if i had to admit, this cover makes me laugh. the mainly jaw scarecrow is about to snatch bruce with his yaoi hands. who has yaoi hands now, batman? tehehe. an' batman's face here is just smth else. a very uh ... mainly display of fear lol. but then again, jon went from straw-twink to straw-chad for no reason an' it indeed a pretty scary concept lol. batman has every right to be scared to the point, where his eyes went back into his skull. tho, that's aside, the whole comics literally drawn like an old yaoi manga an' there is some beauty in that alone, even if i dislike jonathan having that chiseled chin, wide shoulders an' all, i still can have smth to giggle at, when it comes to this. the ending of that issue, where batman very playfully tells gordon that whatever he did with the scarecrow was very catatonic, before sailing out of the window all happy and' smiling gave some food for the thoughts too.

there are surely way-way more designs for scarecrow out there, that i've missed or forgot about, but those are the ones, i'm familiar with the most. an' as conclusion, i think, that whatever design you yourself or someone else might gravitate toward, it's pretty cool that we have so many to pick from. along with crane's characterizations as well. it's like pick your own fanon / adventure lol.

an' thank ya a lot for asking me such a fun question. really made me get deeper into why i like some of crane's looks. i hope, it was somewhat entertaining to read! ❤️

[smutbymia]

Would you write try to write a Johnny x reader x Mark where she's Johnny's girlfriend and he has nipple sucking kink? Something like she's asleep and starts to wake up when she felt someone suckling on her nipple and she's thought it was Johnny, so she let he keep suckling and rans her fingers into his hair for some time but when she opened her eyes, she saw Mark sucking on her nipples while Johnny is watching them?

For mark, there were a lot of positives and negatives when it came to being Johnny’s roommate. The best part about being Johnny’s roommate was the fact that his parents had gifted him the apartment and so rent was mere pennies in comparison to other places in the area. The worst part was that because the apartment was technically still Johnny’s, the dude had almost no boundaries.

Mark was used to it for the most part. He had walked in on many steamy make out sessions his roommate was in the middle of. He’d seen it all — almost. Kissing, groping, even some undressing. He’d usually just tip toe to his room and try to act like he never witnessed a thing but this time was a bit different. You and Johnny had been dating for a few months now and things seemed to be different with you.

You had all gone to school together and so Johnny seemed to be a bit more cautious about fooling around in Marks presence. And since you were a year older than Mark, he had always had a certain level of respect for you as his senior who had tutored him here and there throughout the years. Overall he approved. You were smart, kind, and so pretty that he would even get flustered around you sometimes. Johnny would often tease him about it after you left the apartment.

He was a bit shocked when you and Johnny had started dating but seeing you together made him realize that it was a combination that simply made sense. You and Johnny had always been friends and when romance started to blossom the both of you bravely fell into a relationship that was going well so far.

Mark was halfway out of the door one afternoon when he got a text from Jaemin telling him that class was cancelled and inviting him to come hang out at his dorm. Of course Mark would have loved to accept but truthfuly he was way behind with his schoolwork and so he declined politely and instead marched right back into his room, hoping to make good use of the rest of his afternoon and night by being productive.

A few hours later he heard you and Johnny arrive in the apartment. He had been meaning to come out and say hello since he first heard the familiar sound of keys shaking in the lock of their front door, but he was so caught up in his work after finally making a breakthrough with his studying. He shoved his headphones over his head and continued scribbling math formulas across the pages of his notebook, falling into a trance-like state.

When Mark finally snapped out of it about an hour had passed. He slipped his headphones off his head and was met with silence. He shrugged to himself figuring you had both left and headed out of his room. He could hear the faint sound of a movie playing on the living room television as he approached the kitchen. When he arrived, he was shocked at the scene playing out in front of him. A bowl of popcorn rested on the counter next to you. You were seated on top of the counter with Johnny standing between your legs.

Johnny had been his typical handsy self all evening but when you both went to get popcorn from the kitchen he had playfully lifted you up onto the counter and had pushed your shirt up to your chest to capture your nipples between his fingers before pulling one into his mouth and suckling. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive buds as he alternated between each one before settling on one after awhile and humming against your skin. Your head fell backwards against the cupboards and your eyes fell shut momentarily, enjoying the way his mouth felt all over your body.

Mark couldn’t believe his eyes. Sure, he knew Johnny had a thing for boobs and had seen him grope numerous different sets of them over the years on their living room couch but he had never seen his friend so consumed by a particular task the way he seemed to be consumed by the act of suckling your nipples. And your tits. Wow they were beautiful. The way you softly groaned whenever Johnny would stick his tongue out and —-

Shit! Shit, shit, shit. Your eyes fluttered open and met Marks. He seemed to be so caught up in the moment that it took him a moment to realize he looked just a tad creepy standing there and watching until he saw the expression on your face go from totally blissed out to totally panicked. Johnny was oblivious and reached up to massage at your free breast as he continued sucking, increasing the intensity of his mouth and pulling a loud moan from your lips. You swatted at his shoulder, and he released your nipple with a pop from his mouth as you frantically pulled down your shirt.

“N-noona, I — uh,” Mark stuttered. He backed out of the kitchen looking embarrassed and turning slightly red. Johnny turned to Mark at the sound of his voice.

“Oh,” he said nonchalantly when he realized why you had made him stop.

“S-sorry, I wasn’t — I mean I didn’t mean to.. I’m g-gonna go back to.. my..,” Mark said as he clumsily grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and all but ran back down the hall to his room before shutting the door behind him and resting his back against it.

“Fuck,” he sighed to himself. He was beating himself up for being so ridiculous. He shut his eyes, feeling exasperated. But of course the first thing that popped into his mind was the image of you with your legs spread and chest rising and falling as johnny massaged your breasts.

Mark groaned again before opening his eyes and shaking his head. He walked further into his room and froze when he caught his reflection in his floor length mirror. Luckily it wasn’t obvious, but he was certainly very aware of the bulge rising in his jeans.

“Aw, dang...” he complained as he reached down to palm himself through them. He rushed back to his door, opening it just a crack and listening intently. He could hear you and Johnny casually mumbling about the movie. He closed the door softly and flicked his lights off before crawling into his bed, feeling very ashamed of what he was about to do next.

You were seated in the living room trying to focus on the film but felt uneasy. You snuggled up to Johnny’s side before you tilting your head up to look at him. Johnny was watching the movie like it was the best thing he had ever seen. You watched as his eyes crinkled at the sides when something on screen made him laugh.

You nudged him. “Are you sure we shouldn’t check on him, I mean I feel really bad!” you said. Johnny was slightly caught off guard by the sudden statement.

“No it’s fine, trust me,” he said before diverting his attention back to the screen. A few minutes passed before you spoke again.

“But he looked so flustered. He was turning red almost. I think he must have been really uncomfortable!” you said with a look of concern on your face.

“Yeah I’m sure he was uncomfortable alright. He’s probably beating his dick as we speak,” Johnny joked as he put some popcorn into his mouth.

“Stop, Mark is a sweet kid—“ you began.

“Kid? You guys are barely even a year apart,” Johnny laughed before turning his head to you and pulling you in for a kiss.

“Still,” you began as you snuggled back into Johnny’s side, “I can’t stop thinking about it.” Something in Johnny’s brain clicked.

“Festinger’s theory of cognitive dissonance,” he exclaimed. You furrowed your brow in response. Johnny did this sometimes. He was a psychology major after all.

“Huh?” you mumbled.

“It’s a theory that explores the inner conflict people experience when their thoughts, beliefs, and actions aren’t in alignment with each other ,” Johnny muttered as he slid his hand under your shirt and along your skin. He squeezed softly at your chest before dragging his fingers back and forth across your nipples.

You moaned softly. “I’m not following,” you confessed, still unsure what the theory had to do with you wanting to apologize to Mark.

Johnny giggled as he tugged at your nipples and watched your back arch away from both him and the couch.

“You view Mark as some sort of kid in comparison to you,” he began. “Maybe it’s because he’s inexperienced, or quiet, or a bit awkward around you cause he thinks you’re pretty,” he continued as he played with your body like a toy. You moaned softly under his touch. The movie was long forgotten to you but Johnny still had his eyes fixed on the screen.

“You guys are closer in age than we are but you both act like you aren’t. And so, you’re experiencing inner conflict,” he finished.

“W-why would that make me feel conflicted?” you said through breathy moans.

“Before I can answer that question, you have to answer mine first,” he said, sprinkling kisses along your neck. You let out a soft groan in response, urging him to ask whatever it was that he wanted to. You weren’t ready for the next words that left his mouth.

“Did my baby enjoy it? Making another baby flustered?” he said in a low whisper.

You gasped as you felt electricity shoot through your body. Johnny laughed. He didn’t need an answer. He knew very well that something inside of you must have been unlocked.

If he wasn’t so confident and comfortable in your relationship he may have been a little jealous but hey, he was a psychology student after all. Human behaviour was very interesting to observe and he had a theory of his own he wanted to test.

Mark was fresh out of the shower and laying in bed when there was a knock at his door. You had already left the apartment but he still felt a bit weird about facing Johnny so Mark had stayed in his room.

“I ordered pizza!” Johnny yelled from behind the door. He didn’t wait for mark to respond before he walked off to go dig in.

Mark hesitated as he got up from his bed. He was starving, though. Which is what led him to that kitchen in the first place. The images flashed across Marks mind again. It would have been enough to turn him on all over again but he already came twice since he walked in on the both of you a few hours ago.

The first time was when he rushed back to his room. He sat up on his bed and shoved the corner of his pillow in his mouth to muffle his own moans as he jerked at his length over and over again with the image of your tits and blissed out expression in his mind. He sat there quietly, spilling all over himself and his bed sheets as his hips bucked uncontrollably in his dark room.

The second time was in the shower where he routinely jerked off. He finally felt empty enough after and much more clear headed.

He was feeling guilty as hell but that didn’t stop him from marching towards the smell of pizza. He figured It would be okay since you weren’t around. And it was at first.

“Y/n was totally freaked,” Johnny exclaimed, chuckling to himself. The two boys were watching some sort of basketball game on TV. Mark almost choked after hearing Johnny’s words.

“Shit, I wanted to apologize but I just—“ he started.

“She liked it,” Johnny interrupted. He glanced over at Mark, mischief in his eyes as he munched on a slice. Mark froze.

“Wait what?” he asked, baffled. Johnny broke out into laughter.

“H-hyung, stop teasing me. I already feel guilty,” Mark said. Johnny was still laughing when he dropped the remainder of his slice of pizza back into the box.

He dusted off his hands and rested one on Marks shoulder.

“Hyungs not teasing you,” he said, softly mocking Mark and speaking in the third person.

“She totally freaked because she liked it. Looks like the crush you have on my girlfriend isn’t one sided after all,” he said. Marks eyes went wide.

“D-dude? I’m really sorry I swear I didn’t mean to. I don’t want to come between you guys or anything I just-“ Mark started rambling apologetically.

“No offence but I don’t think you could steal her from me, even if you tried” Johnny joked before continuing, “but if you’re really sorry you’ll help me with something”.

“Something that I think you’ll have a lot of fun doing. Just be ready. I hope you aren’t a heavy sleeper,” he finished. Mark felt nervous. He had no idea what Johnny was getting at.

A few days had passed and Mark had succesfully avoided you. Whenever you were back at the apartment with Johnny, he was either in class or out with friends. Honestly, you were a bit nervous after everything that happened. Johnny had uncovered something that you had no idea was even a thought in your head. You felt a bit guilty but he seemed to take it really well. Almost too well.

Everything was normal between you two. You were staying the night like you often did when you felt the familiar feeling of Johnny playing with the hem of your shirt. You always wore loose clothing around him for this very reason. You were very used to him taking a nipple of yours into his mouth in the middle of the night whenever you were cuddled up next to him in bed.

Your eyes fluttered as you fumbled around with the shirt before feeling Johnny’s mouth meet your chest. He dropped a few kitten licks across your nipples, making your core heat up.

You groaned, roping your hands into his hair and pulling him against your breast, making him latch his entire mouth to your sensitive bud. You moaned softly.

“More... I need more,” you whined. You gripped tighter at his hair when you heard a high pitched mewl escape from the lips of whoever the fuck was attached to your chest because you knew straight away that wasn’t a sound that could ever leave Johnny’s mouth.

Your eyes flew open, first settling on Johnny’s figure at the end of your bed. He had his hand buried in his sweatpants and was stroking at his length with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. You gasped as you looked down to see Mark. His soft lips rubbed against your skin. His eyes sparkling eyes fluttered open and met yours as he moaned softly again.

“Noona, Johnny made me—“ he tried to say with his mouth still attached to your nipple. The humming of his voice made your head spin as it sent shockwaves through your body. You shook slightly before letting Marks name slip from your lips. The sound alone made him harden in his pants. Johnny got closer, until his mouth was latched against your other nipple and your head fell back against the pillows on his bed as both boys snuggled against you.

You felt tugging at your shorts. Johnny was trying to get them off. You lifted your hips in response as you felt him drag the material down to your thighs before giving up. Your panties followed and soon you could feel his fingers circle around you clit achingly slow, winding you up. You circled your hips to meet every movement of his hand as you felt wetness pool between your legs.

After a few minutes of painful teasing, you felt johnny release your nipple from his mouth and then Mark. The boys whispered between each other as Johnny continued to keep you distracted by making his fingers run through your folds, gathering your juices.

You watched as he lifted his fingers towards Marks lips. The boy hesitated briefly before letting his mouth fall open and wrapping his lips around Johnny’s fingers and sucking them clean.

You groaned as you watched the boys together, bonding over their desire to please you.

“Touch her,” Johnny mumbled as he slipped his fingers back out of marks mouth to continue circling at your clit. You felt marks fingers prod softly at your hole before he let them glide into your entrance, rubbing your insides in all the right places. It didn’t take long before both boys had overstimulated you. With Johnny’s fingers picking up speed on your clit, and marks fingers hitting your g-spot while the both of them assaulted your nipples, your orgasm came crashing through your body. Their names spilled from your mouth.

As you came down from your high, Johnny’s lips met yours in a passionate kiss. Mark was still suckling softly at your nipple, eyes closed, in a state of relaxation.

“Look at him,” Johnny whispered against your lips. “I think he’s falling asleep and he hasn’t even cum yet,” you said. You nudged mark awake as his eyes fluttered open.

“Mark, are you okay?” you asked sweetly. The boy looked up at you as if you were everything to him — with stars in his eyes. He nodded. Johnny pulled at his chin, guiding him until mark hovered in front of your face. He froze, somehow feeling nervous.

You bridged the gap quickly, pulling him towards you and capturing his mouth in a soft kiss. As expected, Mark was polite and respectful towards both you and Johnny. He relied on you to make the first move and control the pace. You begged for access to his mouth, letting your tongue softly brush against his as you felt him melt into your touch.

Johnny was asleep, mouth still on your nipple when you pulled away from Mark.

“Does he always fall asleep like that?” Mark asked in wonder as he looked down at his hyung resting so peacefully against your naked chest.

You nodded. Mark yawned and moved to get out of bed but you pulled him into you as well.

“Don’t leave,” you cooed. You watched him turn softer as he shrunk into your side, closing his eyes and going back to swirling his tongue around your nipple. You roped your fingers through his hair the way you knew he liked. He was definitely about to have the best sleep of his life.

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

His Dark Materials - Season 2 Episode 7 *FINALE* (Thoughts and Rambles)

We have a LOT to unpack here oh my god oh my god

When I say I was screaming and yelling during the episode, I mean I was LITERALLY screaming and yelling

This post is mostly screeching and capital letters, you’ve been warned

“So cold” “life or death meant nothing” - well shit. Accurate description of a Spectre attack damn

I didn’t know what those creepy noises were at first and I was sat here absolutely TERRIFIED because it was creepy as fuck. Then I realized it was cliff ghasts because they said something that I recognized from the book and I was like “oh shit”

Pan and Will talking is the sweetest omg

The fact that Pan told him that Lyra thinks he’s as brave as King Iorek Byrnison :’)

“She’s the best friend I’ve ever had” “You’re her best friend too” - STOP, MY HEART

Lyra was awake and heard the whole conversation :3

“I’m no longer an aeronaut” :( “I’m an insect” - LMAO

Hester and Lee’s banter remains my favourite thing and now it’s bittersweet tbh...

“You could never be an insect, Lee” “Okay, hare” - bless them

Marisa finding where Lyra was staying and then finding Lyra’s coat?? And crying with it pressed to her face?? :’(

In case I haven’t mentioned it already, I am incredibly gay for the witches/their aesthetic/costume. Absolutely beautiful queens, all of them

Oh hi, it’s Mary and the two kids!

The fact that Mary helped them find their adults :’)

Also, “We like you miss” - BLESS

I’m kind of confused as to whether the blue flower petals are important or if it’s just her smelling them? IDK

“I’m close to my father, it’s time I found him” - OOF OKAY UMM ARE YOU SURE

“I let my best friend down” - Noooo Lyra, no you didn’t! :( Your dad is a terrible parent and killed him, that’s not your fault!

“Maybe this is how I let you down” - Well done, Asriel and Marisa, you’ve fucked up a perfectly fine child is what you’ve done

Will telling Lyra that she hasn’t let him down :3

That witch turning up because she was trying to warn Marisa about the spectres, only for Marisa to torture and kill her... oof

FUCKING MONKEY I CAN’T DECIDE HOW I FEEL ABOUT HIM

“She’s MY daughter” - Okay, damn, lady...

“EVE. She’s the mother of all” - OH FUCK YOU TOLD HER. OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK

THE SPECTRE ATE HER DÆMON OMG NO THIS IS HORRIFYING WTAF

Seriously, the way the witch went so grey and lifeless and just fell to her knees and down... Urgh, my stomach is turning

Just when I thought I hated the monkey again, he starts whimpering because he’s afraid of the Spectres :(

“Stop whimpering” - DAMN MARISA YOU ARE A STONE COLD BITCH HUH

Pan being the damn voice of reason and telling Lyra they should stay with the witches like yes, Lyra, listen to him for once!!!

Okay but why are the Magisterium soldiers lowkey dressed like German soldiers from one of the World Wars???

I’m not really surprised that BBC left out the detail of Ruta and Asriel fucking when she found him to be honest XD

So the witches think that the Æsahættr is a person but it’s actually the KNIFE. AND THEY DON’T REALIZE. RUTA YOU DON’T NEED TO GO ANYWHERE, IT’S LITERALLY RIGHT THERE

“...That’s not my dæmon.” “Run.” - OH SHIT OKAY MY WHOLE BODY JUST TENSED UP

So umm Lee got shot and FUCK NO FUCK NO I’M NOT READY FOR THIS EMOTIONALLY THANKS

I LITERALLY DO NOT WANT THIS TO HAPPEN OKAY

“You’re either with me or against me” Umm he’s your dæmon?!?!

THE WAY SHE SCREAMED AT HIM OH MY GOD SHE’S FUCKING TERRIFYING HOLY CRAP

“What are you frightened of?” - oh, I don’t know, Marisa, maybe because YOU FUCKING SCREECHED AT HIM. MAYBE HE’S FRIGHTENED OF YOU

Also I love the detail of Marisa getting onto her hands and knees, sort of crouching and mirroring the monkey’s body language. I just love the parallel

The way the monkey flinched from her when she went to touch him omg :( No dæmon should be THIS afraid of their person (or at all?!?!)

Honestly, I find this series’ portrayal of Marisa fascinating tbh

“We have to do whatever it takes to keep her safe” - Umm, like maybe drugging her and hiding her in a cave for months? 🤔

Also in case I didn’t say this before, the fact she has complete control of the Spectres is fucking scary and always has been from the very first time I read the books

Okay so Lee is fully aware that he’s going to die if he stays behind but he does it because he knows that it’s the best chance of making sure that Lyra ends up under the knife’s protection (because Jopari will find her). All Lee wants is for Lyra to be safe and that hurts my heart so much, he loves this child so much :’(

“I love that little girl like a daughter” - LEE STOP MY HEART IS ALREADY BREAKING AS IT IS

NO NO NO NO I AM NOT AND NEVER WILL BE READY

Oh hey Red PAN-da (sorry I know I keep repeating that joke but honestly LOOK AT HIM)

“Once I change, you’ll stop changing” - OH SHIT. So we’re having THAT conversation then

“What do you think you’ll be?” “A flea I hope” - LMFAO I LOVE IT

“Is it Will that’s changing you?” “I think” - FORESHADOWING FOR AMBER SPYGLASS ANYONE?!

All the meanwhile, while Lee is dying and shit is going down, Ms Mary Malone is just chilling in a cave on a mountain by a waterfall, just reading

I literally struggled to watch Lee’s final scenes. I literally didn’t want to watch it because I cried reading it in the book, and I knew I’d be the same here

The fact that Lee HATES taking away people’s lives but he says “it’s theirs or Lyra’s”... I love him. He loves her so much.

“Think about anything, think about bacon!” - LMFAO I LOVE YOU HESTER YOU ABSOLUTE GEM

THE BULLET CLIPPED HIS SCALP AND I HAD A HEART ATTACK 

“This is my fault, isn’t it?” - NO HESTER NO DON’T YOU DARE BLAME YOURSELF DARLIN’, YOU ARE THE BEST AND WE LOVE YOU AND LEE LOVES YOU

I do this everytime I read the book and I did here even though I know what happens, but I was praying mentally that maybe Serafina would reach Lee in time... just maybe...

I’m really sitting here crying over Hester and Lee on a Sunday night, love that for me

Hester limping :(

“Don’t you go before I do” - FUCK YOU BBC AND PHILIP I’M SOBBING MY EYES OUT

“Oh how far we flew” - STOP IT. STOP IT RIGHT FUCKING NOW I SWEAR-

I literally yelled and cried out “NOOO” when Hester faded away and Lee died. I am so upset even though I KNEW it was coming. I am literally not okay.

Oh god no Will, now is not the time to be walking away from Lyra and that witch 

Also why is that witch asleep on guard?? Come on, love, do better, it’s not like these are the two most important children in all the universes.... 

To be fair to Marisa, I’d feel pretty invincible if I were climbing up a mountain while the Spectres were guarding me/on my side

WILL AND JOHN FINALLY MET AHHHH

“I was told I’d find my father here”  - YEAH AND THAT’S HIM WILL ASDFGHJKL;

I’m low-key disappointed that there’s no brawl between Will and Jopari here. Like they instantly recognize each other and... hmm. I know there has to be changes but still.

“Your mother, Will, where is she?” - Awww. John really didn’t stop loving her :’)

“My son... is the Knife Bearer” - oooooohhhhhhh

“You have a dæmon” - that’s right, Will. Don’t worry, you’ll get one next season

The way I audible went “oh shIT” when Mrs Coulter found Lyra fast asleep. Like I said, I knew what was going to happen but STILL

I’m not really surprised that those Spectres killed the witch who was supposed to be guarding Lyra and Will tbh like that’s what happens when only ONE witch guards two teenagers and that witch falls asleep

The way that Lyra panicked when she woke up and saw her mother stroking her cheek omg 

Off topic but I’ve only just realized that Jopari has a fucking man-bun LMFAO OKAY

The fact that Jopari tried to get back to Will and Elaine but couldn’t will always hurt me

“And you chose these people over your family?” - I MEAN-

“I’ve thought about you every day.” - Awww

So John tells Will that he has to go to Asriel and bring him the knife, and he tells him all about the war that’s coming and I have LITERAL chills because I’m so ready

“And then we go home?” “... And then we go home.” - RIP MY HEART OUT, IT WOULD HURT LESS

“I’m not strong enough” - yes you are, Will! I promise you, you are! And Jopari says, “Both of us were brought here” - exactly! You were brought there for a reason by fate or whatever you want to call it!

“Your duty was to be my father” - WILL REALLY CAME FOR HIS DAD LIKE THAT I GUESS

“Look what you’ve become without me” - Oh my god, just when I thought I wasn’t going to cry again

JOPARI HUGGING WILL, SEEING THE SOLDIER AIMING, AND THEN PUTTING HIMSELF BETWEEN THEM SO HE TOOK THE BULLET INSTEAD OF WILL ASDFGHJKL;

So in the book, Jopari is killed by a scorned witch who had once asked him to be her lover, but he had turned her down (because of Elaine and Will obviously), and she kills Jopari in front of Will and then he kills her (I think?). But here it’s just a soldier leftover from the Lee vs Magisterium fight, so... yeah. Kind of a little peeved about the change personally but whatever I guess.

“The night is full of angels, they will guide you now” - AHHHHH

Also, might just be me, but maybe that line would have been slightly more impactful if the scene had taken place at night

This show really said “fuck healthy parental figures” I guess

Except Will’s mum, she’s the best and if anything were to happen to her we’d all riot

SAYAN KÖTÖR FADING AWAY NOOOO I HATE SEEING DÆMONS DIE

Okay, last little gripe, but I just wanted to say that in the book, Will doesn’t realize it’s his dad until literally the last second before his dad dies - like they both realize and then BAM, Jopari is killed. And while I do love the father-son reunion, I am kind of annoyed by the change because it was such a huge punch in the gut in the book that Will searches for so long for his dad, only to lose him the second he finds him.

Serafina finding Lee’s body and kissing his forehead was yet another punch in the gut, thanks Pullman/BBC/BadWolf

The fact that Will had to bury his dad :(

Also, WILL WEARING JOPARI’S JACKET OH MY GOD MY HEART

Oof that shot of his amputated fingers...

So the narration, when it started I thought it was Jopari at first, like from one of his letters... but then as it continued, I went “hang on”, and then I said outloud “wait, is that ASRIEL?!”

DID MARISA REALLY PUT LYRA IN A FUCKING TRUNK?!? BITCH ARE YOU OKAY?!?

Will putting his hood up like his dad did just hits differently

Okay so um ASRIEL HI I WASN’T EXPECTING TO SEE YOU THIS SEASON OH MY GOD THE SCREAM I LET OUT

HIS MONOLOGUE BY THE WAY IS FUCKING ART AND A MASTERPIECE BUT I WAS TOO BUSY CRYING OVER JAMES MCAVOY TO WRITE THE WHOLE MONOLOGUE DOWN

Oh, hi Stelmaria!

It always makes me scream that this man is not only Lord Asriel now but he’s also fucking Mr Tumnus and MOTHERFUCKING BILL DENBROUGH LIKE HOW IS THIS MAN INVOLVED IN SO MANY OF MY FANDOMS?!?

ANGELS ANGELS OH MY FUCKING GOD-

“We stand with you, Asriel Belacqua” - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

“Let us prepare for war” - FUUUUUUUUCK

(I was deadly serious when I said this was just me screaming and crying by the way)

I’m still reeling over the fact that Marisa put her daughter in a fucking trunk. Like I get you can’t exactly carry a drugged child about in the open but Jesus Christ, love, really?!?

Also Ruth Wilson / Marisa Coulter in a headscarf? *chef kiss*

The way that the screen went to black as she put the lid on the trunk down - SHIT OH SHIT GOOSEBUMPS

THE CREDIT SONG IS SO BEAUTIFUL BECAUSE IT HAS FUCKING ANGELS NOW I’M-

I WASN’T EXPECTING THE POST CREDITS SCENE OH MY GOD

ROGER?! ROGER! IT’S ROGER I’M NOT OKAY-

BBC YOU CANNOT JUST DROP THAT ON US LIKE THAT FUCK-

“What is this place?” - I’M SCREAMING SO LOUD I CAN’T HOLD IT IN

For anyone unaware, the reason I’m screaming so loud over the post-credits scene is because in TAS, while Lyra is drugged and in a groggy sleep, she has these visions of Roger talking to her from the Land of the Dead, which then later leads to her and Will actually GOING to the Land of the Dead and... well, the rest is even HUGER spoilers but YEAH I’M NOT OKAY.

Honestly, I’m just so happy and emotional because I’ve been waiting over a decade for a decent adaptation of not only NL but for TSK and TAS too, and we’re 2/3 there now. Just one more book/series to go... I wish we could have it now. I really hope that filming for the final one starts ASAP because if we have to wait two years just to see the conclusion to this series, I might cry.

This series is so amazing, and this season especially has been so incredible to watch. It’s been the highlight of my week for seven weeks, and I have no idea what I’ll do with my Sundays now that it’s over. I’ve asked for the DVD for S2 for my birthday already (since it comes out 29th December and my birthday is 13th January... just saying), and words can’t describe how much I do love this series. I know it sounds hollow since I say it about so many things I’m into, but this was such a huge part of my childhood and it’s one of my favourite fantasy series of all time. It’s truly one of the most incredible pieces of literature and now it’s making for incredible television... I love it so much.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Break In The New Year ~ MYG [Request]

WORD COUNT: 5.4K

GENRE: Friends to lovers, New Year’s Eve, Non Idol Au, angst with a fluffy ending

PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Mentions of house being broken into, heartache, and police cells 💕💕 

"I would owe you a big favour, we already went through this. You can hold it over me for the rest of my life." You tugged on Yoongi's arm as you walked through the supermarket together, begging for him to do you yet another huge thing for you. Yoongi had been your roommate since you were in college and you both continued to be roommates even after graduating and getting jobs. Moving in together was the best decision either of you had made since you knew each other for such a long time it made sense.

"You already owe me from the last time I did something for you." You rolled your eyes at him before jumping up to reach for the box of corn flakes that were on the top shelf, always on the top shelve. He was talking about how you'd gotten him to go to a family event with you so you wouldn't be the talk of the party and he would be instead.

"Then I'll owe you double, you don't understand Yoongi-" When he reached up for the box for you you stopped talking and thanked him for it placing the box into your trolley.

"They're like the bitches of Eastwick," He finished off what you were going to say since he'd heard the story about your co-workers a billion times from you. It was the truth though, the three of them were evil, whenever they got together you swore they were planning the end of the world.

"I told you that one already?" You laughed nervously while following along behind him to the next aisle, he was pushing the trolley this week since the week before you had an "incident". Which he brought pleasure in bringing up every time you whined about not getting to push it.

"I still stand by the fact that the trolley rolled on its own." You folded your arms over your chest like a child earning a chuckle to come from Yoongi as he raised his eyebrow at you turning to his side as he picked up some toilet roll for the apartment.

"The trolley, which you were pushing, rolled on its own into a rack of wine with you hanging on the back of it and shouting-" Yoongi stopped still as he lifted up his hands into the air and shook them as if he was trying to do jazz hands.

"Whee look at me, so much fun, so much fun!" He mocked in a high pitch voice to which you threw a roll of kitchen roll at his head bouncing off and ending into the trolley.

"I don't sound like that," You pouted at him walking around to the next aisle when you saw someone from work walking towards you, fortunately for you it was one of the nicer females on your office floor. Always trying to be pleasant with you and everyone around her, even she hated the three bitches of Eastwick on your floor. Everyone hated those three though, you didn't even think your boss liked them if you were being honest.

"Y/n? Hi!" You smiled at her walking with Yoongi as he looked at you with an expression of 'who is it?'.

"Hey Dawn, Dawn this is Yoongi. Yoongi this is Dawn from work. She's one of the IT girls." You smiled at Yoongi to let him know that Dawn was friendly and he reached out his hand to shake hers.

"Nice to meet you, Y/n talks so much about you. Roommates in college, roommates again. You must be very close." Dawn was being friendly with Yoongi so he smiled at her and joked about it with her,

"Very close, I'm secretly blackmailing her to stay with me really." He teased as you walked towards the freezer sections to buy food you would both need at the home.

Once you were out of the supermarket Yoongi looked at you,

"I'll go. But you owe me big. Huge." He told you as you began shutting the boot of his car, turning to look at him you smiled at him innocently. All of this was to get him to come along to the New Year's Eve party that your boss was throwing, it was a huge party that would be thrown on your office floor. They did it every year and every year you were alone which was why you were begging Yoongi to go with you this time.

"I don't like when you smile at me like that, y-you look creepy. Stop it." He begged you but you smiled even wider before wrapping your arms around his neck and giggling like a possessed doll as you tried to get him to do this for you.

"Thank you Yoongi!" You yelled gaining the attention of couples in the parking lot who were all giving you weird looks as Yoongi tried to get away from you trying to pull his body away from yours but you kept your grip on him.

"It's a date-" Yoongi told you before cutting himself off, he looked at you as he began to turn a slight pink colour at the thought of taking you out on a real date.

"I'll be your fake date. Dawn told me how the Bitches of Eastwick all slam you for never having one." His words came out in a stutter but you knew what he was trying to say and do for you so you thanked him. Unwrapping your arms from around his neck and smiling at him,

"You're a lifesaver. You have my soul until you decide to use your favours." You promised him, taking the trolley back over to the trolley bay leaving Yoongi to start up the car trying to calm down his brightening cheeks.

"No funny business either, you have to dress nice that night. It's an office party but everyone's going all out." You told him once you were back in the passenger seat beside him, he knew he'd agreed to this but now he was hearing more about it he wished he hadn't.

"It's a New Years Eve party, it's not as if we need to go all out-" He stopped talking when he saw the sad look on your face, he'd always found it hard saying no to you whenever you gave him that look and you knew that. It was like looking into a puppy's eyes whenever they were begging for food and it made him think of Holy back home. He reached out to cover your eyes with one hand,

"Stop playing that to your advantage, it's not fair. I'm not dressing up in a suit just for a party!"

"I'm dressed in a suit for a party." He grumbled a week later when he was standing in the apartment living room in his tux, it was an all-black piece with a black bow tie to match. He brushed his hands down the fabric as he stared at himself in the huge mirror above your fireplace.

"You look great, shut up." You muttered from the bathroom as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup, you wanted to look nice since there was going to be a photographer on-site snapping pictures of everything. It was true though, Yoongi looked sexy...Not that you would ever tell him that to your face you would be too embarrassed to.

"Right, Bitches of Eastwicks, names!?" You called out as you slipped into the pair of silver high-heeled shoes you'd gotten to go with your dress. This was a test to make sure he could perform well tonight as your fake date.

"Blonde one is Flair, Brunette is Mina and then the one with dyed blue hair is Claire?" He looked over at the bathroom door when he heard it open and his mouth almost dropped to the floor upon seeing you. The red dress you were wearing was a high-low one with lace sleeves just off the shoulder and then the rest of the dress was multi-layered with tulle, and a satin lining.

"What? Does it look bad?" You panicked to yourself, looking down as you ran your hands over the fabric but Yoongi shook his head. He hadn't seen you this dressed up since it was your graduation night and even that was just a pair of jeans and a fancy shirt - which you'd stolen from him.

"You look great...S-Seriously, you look...Wow." He was at a loss for words as he continued to look at you, it was just something you'd picked up in a sale shop. It was almost 50% off so you knew it had to be the dress for tonight, you could never afford the real thing in your lifetime or the next.

"Good...T-That's er...That's great." You both turned tried to ignore the awkward tension that was lingering in the air. The thing was you'd had a crush on Yoongi since you were in your first year at college together but he'd never been interested in you that way before. Deciding to go for other girls around you rather than you so you forced those feelings deep down inside of you. Yoongi, in turn, doing the same thing when he thought you didn't like him either.

"I'll drive," He grabbed his keys from the coffee table in the living room and began walking out towards the driveway.

Neither of you had discussed what this fake date evening was going to entail so when you got to the office Yoongi took over everything acting as though he was your boyfriend. He wrapped his arm around your waist while you did your best to ignore the tingling sensation it sent throughout your body. He kissed your cheek whenever someone would look at you both and spin you around as you walked across the dance floor.

"Let's go get a drink," He whispered to you as he made his way through the crowds of people, all of them dressed up just like the two of you were. Some even more extravagant - as if they were taking it as some kind of competition.

"Y/n?! Is that you?!" Yoongi felt your whole body tense up as soon as someone screamed out your name, all eyes working their way onto the two of you as you stood at the drinks table. Taking in a huge deep breath you prepared yourself for the fakest smile you could manage.

"Flair!" You cried out in almost a higher tone than hers, Yoongi's grip on you tightened as he turned you around to face Flair, from what he'd heard he was expecting someone old and mean looking but that wasn't what he was met with. As soon as he turned to look at the blonde mouth fell open, even more so then when he'd seen you at home. The dress you were wearing was on Flair's body only in black and with more beading, on the top half of the dress, she'd clearly had it altered. Your stomach sank upon the sight of her in it, every cell in your body turning against you and telling you that she looked better in it than you ever would.

"Oh look! We're matching," She said condescendingly as she moved closer to you, one of the worst things about Flair was that she faked her niceness. She would act as though she was your best friend, mimicking her digs at the way you dressed or looked as though they were nothing but playful banter between two friends.

"Oh wait, yours isn't the same. It looks like you got yours at a sale," The tag! You'd completely forgotten to take the tag out of the back of the dress and your heart began to thump against your chest at the thought of people seeing it on you and laughing about it but it was too late.

"Ah, my fault. I forgot to remove that for her when I bought it." You looked at Yoongi with tear-filled eyes mentally thanking him for at least trying to save you from embarrassment, everyone around you was starting to giggle and chuckle amongst themselves.

The tag was removed so Flair moved onto something else to dig at you for as she always did with everyone around her,

"Did you do your makeup? I just love this shade of red you have on your lips," Your hand raised to your lips as you tried to hide it from her, whenever she said she loved something it meant she hated it. You'd worked with her long enough to know exactly what she did and didn't mean when it came to things like this.

"You must be her date, Yoongi was it? Dawn told me all about you." Dawn hid behind her own date as Claire and Mina pushed you to stand behind them while they interrogated Yoongi. Who didn't look scared in the least and was smiling bigger than you'd ever seen him smile around you before. It was just like college all over again when he would find other girls to be with.

There was an hour to go until Midnight, Yoongi was walking over to you after spending most of his night with the bitches of Eastwick all of them laughing so loud you could hear them over the music blasting through the speaker beside your head.

"This is great! I can't believe you think Flair hates you. She loves your dress, hair and makeup tonight. She's even going to take you out for breakfast one day next week." You smiled falsely at Yoongi who was feeding into all of her lies, it happened with every guy who came into contact with Flair. At this point, you were starting to think that maybe she was a witch and could put a spell over anyone she wanted to. Deciding you didn't want to put a damper on his night you played along with it,

"Sounds great, is that for me?" You asked as you pointed at the drink in his hand, he stared down at it before shaking his head at you.

"No, I grabbed it for Flair. She's going to give me a tour of the building-"

"I can do that if you want to see it." You told him as you got up on your feet ready to take him wherever it was he wanted to go but a panicked look spread across Yoongi's face.

"No! Flair said she'll do it. She knows the lay of the land better, she's been here a lot longer than you have Y/n." And just like that, he left you alone by the speaker to overthink everything that was running through your head. Did he forget that he was supposed to be pretending to be your date? Did he forget that Flair was one of the few people you hated in this world? Dawn slowly made her way over to you with a drink in her hand holding it out to you in an offering and sign of peace.

"I have a blabbermouth," She whispered as she slid the drink into your hand, you smiled weakly at her shaking your head. Flair, Claire and Mina had their own way of bringing out that side in people though. People always found themselves spilling secrets or gossiping along with them just so they could feel like they were a part of something with them, just like high school when people would try to fit in.

"It's alright, we've all been there." You whispered to her before downing the drink she'd given you and rose to your feet once again wanting to get out of the room for a while. Clear your head and just get some air,

"Going to go to the bathroom." You told her as you began making your way out of the office and towards the ladies on that floor.

30 Seconds to go until midnight and you were still rushing around to try and find Yoongi, Claire and Mina were both with their dates on the dance floor chanting out the numbers of the count down. Someone claimed to have seen Yoongi up on the roof so you were sprinting up the two flights of stairs that lead to the roof exit, you'd just hit the top flight when you heard the chanting of numbers.

"10!" You were starting to breathe heavily as you continued to go up the final flight,

"4!" You whimpered as you pushed the huge door open until to then hear fireworks exploding, for a second you looked up at the night sky to look at them but your whole world came to a crashing halt when your eye went down to see Yoongi kissing Flair. His arms wrapped around her waist as he pulled her closer to him, her arms wrapped around his neck as she let out a small whine. A noise left your throat as you tried not to cry but the tears were already beginning to stream down your cheeks as you turned to leave before either of them could see you up there. You needed to get out of the building before he could question where you were.

"Fuck," You croaked as you made it into the elevator on the floor where the party was, you smashed against the buttons trying to get it to move faster before sinking onto the floor. Drawing your knees in against your chest as you sobbed into them, wanting nothing more than to get home to your apartment and be left alone to cry the night away. There was nothing reasonably for you to be upset or jealous over but Flair knew what she was doing. She'd heard Yoongi was your date and decided to go against it all and kiss him anyway. Then there was Yoongi. Kissing someone you viewed as your enemy, someone he knew you didn't get along with. Your heart was starting to clench every time you thought about them kissing the scene on the roof was something you were never going to be able to erase from your memory no matter how hard you tried to get it out. Tears continued to roll down your cheeks as you reached the bottom floor, couples were making out everywhere you turned so you walked around with your head hanging low.

The walk home from the building wasn't that far so you didn't have to worry about a long journey but you just worried about how dark and late it was. You'd tried to get a cab but since it was New Year's Eve everything was pretty much booked out leaving you to walk home in the dark.

The whole way home you felt as though you were being watched, someone following behind you in the shadows but you put it down to being paranoid over it being a holiday. But something didn't sit right with you, there was a pit in your stomach but not the same kind you'd gotten when seeing Yoongi with Flair this one was different. It was like you knew there was something wrong but you didn't know what it was or had any idea what it could have been so you just picked up the pace of your walk. Trying not to jump every time a firework would go off or a drunken idiot would scream at you from across the road. You did your best to keep your composure as you reached your street.

The nagging feeling inside of you didn't stop when you got to your apartment but that was because when you reached your place the door was ajar.

"For fuck sake Yoongi," You muttered to yourself as you pushed the door all the way open and kicked off your heels. He was always the last one out of the apartment and always forgot to shut it and lock it properly. Putting you both at risk, tonight you didn't have it in you to ring him and tell him how much he fucked up.

"Fucking idiot-" You stopped whispering to yourself as soon as you walked into the living room, it was now clear what the nagging feeling inside of you was. The apartment was completely trashed, it was clear that someone had broken in and was looking for something. The TV was missing, the coffee table and mirror were completely smashed up along with a bunch of other stuff from the kitchen. Taking out your phone you walked through to the kitchen to see if anything had been taken and a bunch of kitchen appliances were missing. The drawers and cupboards open and everything inside smashed against the floor, you tiptoed back to the living room calling the police trying not to step on any of the glass that was on the floor.

"Hi, I need to report a robbery," You spoke into the phone as you worriedly looked around the living room.

"Can I take your name and address, please? Are you alone in the house or is someone still there?" The thought of whoever had done this to your apartment being inside hadn't crossed your mind until now and your anxiety began to pick up. Your heart raced against your chest as you glanced around not knowing if you were alone, surely if someone was in the house they would have made their presence known by now.

"I don't think so, I-I think they left-" There was a floorboard upstairs that creaked so you began to whisper to the lady on the phone telling her the address and name for the house while you tried to make your way out of the apartment without whoever it was that had broken in finding you.

Before you even made it to the front door someone came up behind you and grabbed you causing you to squeal and drop your phone on the floor. The operator began yelling but you couldn't hear what she was saying,

"LET GO OF ME!" You screamed out kicking back as hard as you could but whoever it was had the strongest grip imaginable on you as you tried to fight them off of you but it was useless.

"Fucking bitch!" A low voice growled as they dropped you onto the living room floor into the pile of glass that was below you after you bit their hand that had been covering your mouth.

"HELP!" You screamed out hoping that one of your neighbours would hear your cries and come to your rescue. You began crawling to get out of the way but the voice boomed out,

"Fucking come here!" Their voice was as deep as thunder which was scary enough, they grabbed onto your ankle as you tried to crawl away from them, you screamed as they dragged you along the class and into their grasp before they hit you over the side of your head-turning everything around you into black.

When you finally came to again there was a police officer calling out your name as they helped you up from the floor,

"You're Y/n, you made the police call?" You glanced at the officer and nodded slowly, your head felt as though it was on fire and the entire room was beginning to spin. A medic on-site began cleaning up your head, applying a cold compress to your skin.

"Yeah I made the call," You stared at his name badge and then back up at him. Officer Jimin. He had blonde hair and was writing down something in a small pad. The medic left you alone and went outside of the apartment.

"We found you on the floor, did the person who did this attack you? Did you get a good look at them?" You shook your head, whining out as you did so not wanting to move your head any more than you had to.

"Headache?" You hummed in response to his question and he sighed not wanting to put you through more any stress than you'd already been through.

"Do you have anyone you can call to go and stay with?" The thought of calling your mother terrified you, she'd told you not to move into the city with Yoongi so calling her and telling her the place was broken into wasn't an option. Yoongi was no doubt busy with Flair so you shook your head softly,

"No, my roommate isn't available." You mumbled as you got up from the sofa and looked around the whole place was a mess, you didn't know if you would be allowed to stay here or not.

"Well we're still doing some investigating but I can take you back to the station and have you in police custody for now. It won't go on your record, just somewhere to keep you warm and safe for the night," You didn't have the energy to fight him on it nor did you have anywhere else to go so you agreed to go with him to the police station. Provided you could grab some clothes to change into first.

The next morning Yoongi finally woke up in Flair's apartment with one of the biggest hangovers he'd ever had to nurse back to health but he bolted out of her place and headed for the nearest shop. Grabbing the largest fizzy drink he could find and began walking back to your apartment, all he wanted to do was get into the apartment and have a bubble bath but when he got to the street people were staring down at his apartment.

"Yoongi dear! You're okay?!" He frowned when one of his neighbours, an elderly lady Mrs Park, asked if he was okay. Of course, he was why wouldn't he be?

"I'm fine, I went to a party. What's going on? Where's Y/n?" The small lady began shaking her head as they watched a police car drive down into the driveway. The whole world seemed to slow down as he saw another cop car making his way onto the scene.

"Not sure, I woke up this morning to sirens and police tape, when I asked what happened they just told me to move." Another van passed by them and this time Yoongi could see the words "crime scene investigation" written across the side of it. His heart sank as he began racing towards the tape, dropping his bag onto the floor as he just sprinted ignoring the police yelling at him to stop.

"You can't be in here," An officer said as he looked up from the floor, Yoongi stared down at where he'd been looking to see blood on the floor. Bits of your dress was shredded everywhere,

"W-What happened?! Where's Y/n?!" His voice was cracking and going up in pitch as he stared around for you, you would have called him if something had happened right?

"Relax. Y/n is fine, she's in police custody while we investigate what happened here. You are the roommate that was busy last night?" The way the officer said that he was "busy" annoyed him but he grit his teeth and nodded along with him not wanting to get into trouble with the officer,

"Yeah, I'm Yoongi. Can I see her?" The officer shook his head,

"I need to ask you some questions before I take you down to see her. Where were you last night?" He rolled his eyes, he knew that it was their job to investigate every leady possible but what was the point in questioning Yoongi when he already had an alibi.

As soon as Yoongi walked into the precinct his heart sank and he began to feel heavy with guilt as he realised none of this would have happened if he had been with you like he was supposed to have been. You were sitting at a desk with a female police officer going over everything that had happened the night before, there was a bruise on your lower eye and a huge band-aid on your forehead that looked as though it needed changing since it had blood on it.

"Y/n!?" He yelled out, you glanced up at him and without smiling, you went back to talking to the police officer in front of you ignoring Yoongi as if he wasn't even there right now you didn't want to look in his direction.

"What happened to her?" Yoongi questioned Jimin as he was walked over to a separate desk.

"She walked home alone, found her apartment broken into and the assailant knocked her out after finding her in the house. You're lucky she isn't hurt worse than she is," Jimin grumbled as he began to write down Yoongi's night, taking note of every name he was giving to him. Yoongi did he best to remember exactly what time he got to Flair's apartment and what time he woke up so he could be in the clear.

"Y/n..." You glanced at Yoongi who was now sitting beside you in one of the staff rooms of the precinct.

"How was the party?" You asked him as you looked into the cup of coffee you were drinking, it tasted worse than anything you could imagine at this moment in time but it was the only coffee they had.

"How's your head? Did you see them?" You shook your head at him as you looked down at your hands, trying not to tear up at the thought of whoever it was being in the same house as you and hurting you.

"I should have been with you, I'm sorry." He dragged you into his arms but you didn't fight it. You rested your head against his chest as you sobbed silently into his ribs, listening to the way his heart thumped against his rib cage.

"I never should have left you alone at the party." Thoughts of where he'd been all night began to creep into your mind and you felt yourself getting jealous all over again but you bit down on your tongue as you fought the urge to say something about Flair.

"D-Did you go to Flair's?" You questioned, pulling away from him and getting up from the small sofa to bin the crappy cup of coffee you were drinking.

"Yeah. Nothing happened." He told you quickly, you looked over your shoulder at him.

"Not that it has anything to do with me. You're an adult Yoongi you can do what you want." You turned back in front of you and began looking into the vending machine for something to eat,

"Y/n..." Yoongi breathed out as he got up from the sofa and made his way over to you, his hand was resting on your waist. Tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of him touching Flair the same way the night before.

"We're not a couple Yoongi, it doesn't matter to me who you go home with or who you make out with on the rooftop of my office building." You turned around to face him to continue your rant when his lips were on yours. Finally, after 5 years in college and then another two in your apartment, he was kissing you deeply. Your arms naturally wrapped around his neck pulling yourself closer to him while he smirked against your lips,

"I went back to her apartment to cool down...I'd been drinking a lot since I wanted to kiss you at midnight...I kissed her on the roof because I was too intoxicated to try and find you." It was a dumb excuse he knew that and he could tell by the look on your face that you were thinking the same thing.

"I never should have left you alone...If you give me another chance and let me take you out on a real date. I'll make it up to you." You bit down on your lip as you stared into his eyes,

"I don't know..." You lied, trailing off your voice as you pretended to think about his office. He growled pulling you closer by the arms wrapped around your waist.

"You still owe me favours, this is me cashing them all in to take you out on a date." He whispered to you as he leant down to kiss your lips again.

"After we get the apartment back...A-and get new locks and a security system." You whispered to him as you kissed his nose, he nodded at you. Leaning forward and leaving a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Deal," He whispered against you lips before kissing you deeply once again.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @bisexualmess007​ @innersooya​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @jin-from-the-block​

[evakuality]

Mia, episode five

1.  One thing Druck is super good at is these aesthetic shots.  This whole opening bit reminds me of the scene with Amira when she’s praying in her room.  Lots of beautiful shots of the room, curtains and stuff, which are just super pretty with a few hints of colour.  I dunno, this is just an aesthetic I like and I appreciate that Druck caters to me.  Mia is so cute, too!  Like both the way she looks and also how kind she is.  She still doesn’t really like Alex a lot (though you could see in that montage from the previous night that she’s warming up to him) but she still feels like she should leave things looking nice.  These little post-it notes are sort of cute too, and you can see that she thinks they’re sweet.  I don’t like this Bjorn though.

2.  Interesting that we get a clip specifically one week later.  I have no idea how that must have felt while this was live, and I’m really glad that I didn’t have to live through these long gaps in any of the things I did watch in real time.  This one was reasonably low key though, so maybe the wait wasn’t as agonising.  If you didn’t know who Bjorn is (I’m assuming the Niko character) then nothing in the last couple of clips would have felt all that alarming.  But Mia’s so flirty here - that one conversation at his house must have really charmed her.  Pity we didn’t really get to hear a lot of it because he still hasn’t charmed me!!  And actually that ‘show a montage of how things are going while a song and/or other conversation plays overtop’ is a huge thing Druck does, I think.  I feel like in some cases (Matteo and David after their first pool kiss moment, for example, or Hanna and Jonas breaking up) work quite well.  But here, I think we needed to hear more of Alex to actually believe that Mia would be this flirty with him.  For me, this is too big a turnaround from her very cold manner with him at the piano and an actual proper look at that conversation might have helped.  But also, I am super biased because William and so maybe a more reasonable person might like it okay.  This bit with Linn is weird.  Genuinely creepy, and I’m not sure why they’re setting her up to feel like this.  Maybe some sort of hint of the creepiness to come with Bjorn (I’m assuming it’s coming, anyway).

3.  I don’t get this bit with all the pictures at the school.  I assume it will become obvious later but I’m not sure what exactly they were trying to do with this.  You’d think they run the risk of having the whole Abi chaker clan thing shut down - if this happened in my school there’d be so much trouble.  A groups of kids once put post-its all over one teacher’s room and they got in SO much trouble for it, and that wasn’t obscene like this is.  This thing here seems so targeted at the Abi thing, using their plan specifically, that it feels like someone outside the group wants them not to be allowed to run their theme.  Or someone in the group who wants a different motto maybe.  I don’t know, but it feels very mean and very specifically directed at this group of people.

4.  Hmmm, I’m with Leonie on this one.  I’d be giving Carlos the super evil stare too.  It may be ‘funny’ to some of these people, but given that there are younger kids at this school (I assume, right?  They still have classes running for the smaller ones at the end of Matteo’s season, allowing their prank to go ahead) this is sure to go down really badly with the school itself.  I’m rolling my eyes at the ones who are outraged that the school is considering reporting it - what did they expect?  Also, surely they can figure out who was doing it - people were literally throwing handfuls of the pictures over the stairs.  Surely they could work out who it is.  It’s pretty clear that Alex still thinks this is funny and I’m losing patience with him.  Every time it seems like maybe he’s getting less gross he goes and acts like this again.  Bleh.  I’m not often rooting for Leonie and feeling for her, but wow today I really am.  This is shitty and she has a right to be angry.

5.  Ew, Alex, why are you stalking Mia again?  She’s made it pretty clear she’s not happy with you.  Turning up out of the blue like a creep isn’t a good way to go about winning her over again.  His ‘we were drunk, what can you do?’ is so... stupid???  They’ve lost money from this, the school is really angry, they could easily have some pretty bad consequences and he’s all ‘meh, it was a drunken prank’?  I know money isn’t an issue for him, but there are issues here beyond the money.  I’m also kind of annoyed that everyone keeps suggesting she’s upset because she’s jealous.  I’ll be really annoyed if the show carries on this way - this isn’t just a silly little prank, and people have every right to be angry and annoyed.  Diminishing it to jealousy isn’t cool.  Is Leonie also jealous?  The people who are angry and upset they’re being blamed and their money has been taken?

6.  I do love scenes where the whole girl squad is together.  They make me happy and I miss seeing them together so much.  But OMG, Alex is blackmailing Mia again????  I mean I guess it worked the first time so why wouldn’t he?  But this is seriously shitty behaviour.  Honestly, in clip one I was mildly starting to warm to him with the post-its and all, but he’s managed to speed run right back into ‘asshole’ category.  This was the problem in the og as well - William was such an asshole, that in order to make him likeable, we had to see a much more genuinely villainous character.  Alex is still super dislikeable and so we need someone ‘worse’ to make him look palatable, which I assume is coming.  We’re halfway through - we should like him by now.  I dunno.  Maybe some people do?  But he still has done nothing to make me think he’s nice or someone who Mia might be attracted to.

7.  Oh a long Friday clip?  Almost half the episode?  I guess it’s going to be a rough one for Mia then.  More reflections again - her whole face in the mirror now, but it’s surrounded by graffiti.  I’m always fascinated by the way mirrors and reflections work, and it’s fun to see Mia slightly obscured in her mirrors even now.  It’s not as disjointed as it was at the start but it’s not a fully clear reflection either.  I may not like the way Noora/Mia’s story goes but I do like some of these things which show the progress.

8.  I feel kind of sorry for Jonas, because that break up wasn’t his choice.  But seriously, he seems to be blaming this on Hanna a bit and like ????? He chose to make her feel small and unworthy through her whole season.  She’s allowed to try to figure herself out outside of him and his wants and needs.  Eh, I know he’s hurting and all, but that’s actually his issue and he shouldn’t be pushing it on her.

9.  This scene with Mia and Alex bothers me.  He still seems to have no idea why she might find his actions (selfish and self-serving and filled with blackmail) offputting.  ‘I fixed it, so we should totally be together now’ is such an immature and childish take on this.  These types of guys need to grow up and learn that they can’t just buy and/or coerce their way into whatever they want.  I like the way they decide to have Kiki walk past just as Mia has to choose whether to say she doesn’t want Alex or not.  It adds a poignancy to it and Mia obviously chooses to stick by her friends.  I do wish it felt more conflicting, like if Alex genuinely had changed or had shown he has depth or something it would be a bigger ‘wow she’s rejecting him for her friend’ but instead he’s still such an unpleasant character that I don’t care.

10.  I’m not sure why Mia does the brushing off of the makeup - I feel like it made more sense when Noora did it (I mean I watched it once a very long time ago so who knows, but my memory is that it was her way of trying to reject being ‘pretty’ and having guys liking her because it was messing her up).  With Mia, I don’t understand.  Someone help me out?

11.  I still don’t get what Mia sees in Alex.  Again, I know I have a really big bias against him because of William and I know it was always going to be tough for him to be someone I care about.  But even so, this feels like a huge whiplash when she says of course she likes him.  I’d get it if we’d seen any of his development, but every time he took a mini step forward he shoved himself right back into dislikeable territory.  Once again, I mourn the actual conversation between Mia and Alex.  This all feels far too fast, and the fact that this is suggesting his blackmail is all good is very worrying.  All the post-it notes in the world can’t make me think he’s nice enough to want to kiss.

Overall, I didn’t really like this one.  I feel like the pacing is still off; I don’t believe the speed at which Mia has fallen for him and honestly it hasn’t been very long since Kiki was with Alex and had her heart broken.  The fact that Mia even saw her and told him she doesn’t like him only to turn around immediately and change her mind is strange to me.  Mia has always come across as a caring person who tries to do the right thing and help out her friends.  That she has apparently no qualms at this point is difficult for me.  They’re acting the hell out of this, but I can’t buy it.  Unfortunately.  Sadly, because this is based on a very flawed original, I don’t think it’s going to make me enjoy these two.  There are things that I’m interested in seeing as we go forward but most of those have zero to do with Alex.

[missinghan]

to my youth ⤖ lee felix

❖ genre : summer au; high school au; fluff

❖ word count : 11,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language, slow burn

❖ summary : it is official that life hates you because not only was your first few days of summer ruined by a stupid field trip, but things also got somewhat freaky… whatever kind of ‘freaky’ you’re thinking about.

❖ note : i know i said i’m ‘experimenting’ with new stuff but guess who’s back with another mediocre, not-that-well-written mess of a domestic au; please (kindly) yell at me to dabble into a new genre after bearing through this fic- happy reading!

one.

The echoes of your summer days remain as flowers immune to the winter chill, they say.

You’re not entirely sure who even fathomed their time and effort to come up with that statement but from your point of view, those flowers would most likely have either died out from the summer heat or withered horrendously because of the arbitrary showers of rain. Or you’re the only one who doesn’t have the luxury to see life through a rose-colored lens.

Because the first thing that comes to mind for you is the bucket of ice-cream and a YouTube OG that you’ve ceased to finish since finals started two weeks ago. The bell rings, pens down, everyone pours out of the classroom after handing in their exam papers. No one really bothers to check up on each other’s answers anymore; the last subject for today was AP Psych and you don’t know about them but you honestly can’t care any less thereafter cramming the entirety of five chapters. 

Sprinting down the staircase, you easily spot Felix amongst the midst of drowsy high school students for the bright color of his hair. He truly believes that if he slaps enough hair essence and coconut oil on his head four times a week, his hair won’t feel like straws when he changes it every other three weeks. But it’s only a matter of time before balding catches up to him, he’ll learn eventually.

“Please don’t tell me that you left your keys in class,” you sigh upon the sight of him fumbling with his folders and textbooks while trying to open his locker in vain. Just thinking about walking all the way back to the third floor makes you want to use your backpack as a pillow and take a nice nap in the middle of the hallway.

“Gee, Y/N,” Felix makes a face to not show the sense of relief washing over him when he locks eyes with you. “Who do you take me as? A clumsy person?”

“No, just a dumbass.” You coldly snatch a slipping book from his arms before turning to twist the disc in the combination of your birthday until the lock clicks, shaking the shackle off to swing his locker open. It’s a silent tradition that you both set each other’s birthday as your locker’s combination since elementary school; it started out as a stupid joke at first but neither of you really bothered to change it. 

“Why the hell would you put your keys in the locker?” you widen your eyes in disbelief as he grabs the bright yellow Spongebob plushie to collect his keys with a shit-eating grin

“My alarm didn’t go off today, so I was running a little late,” he defends himself while dumping everything out of his backpack, hugging an empty water bottle to his side. 

You throw a wave at a very tired Hyunjin walking side by side with Seungmin on his right and Jisung skipping happily towards your direction. Seungmin looks exceptionally moody today, you pray he didn’t mess up an easy question to take it out on all of you later in the car. “Bet you were staying up late to play Overwatch with Chan.” 

Felix manages to grin stiffly at your comment, turning on his heels and trudges onto the school’s parking lot. “Fine, walk home.” 

“Hey, you forgot to lock this!” you pull his steps into a halt by making a grab for his hand, utterly oblivious at how his cheeks flare up with a bright shade of red at your touch. Or out of embarrassment. Whatever, same thing. 

Felix might be a better driver than you, but he’d be fired ten seconds into the job of a babysitter.

With that being said, when Jeongin decides it’s a good idea to cheer a passive-aggressive, post-exams Seungmin up with a carton of strawberry milk and then proceeds to get lost in his own school, the very same school he’s been attending for who knows how long, you’re the one who manually pulls his ass back into Mrs. Lee’s Jeep within ten minutes. 

And Seungmin has already fallen asleep by the time Jeongin’s back, so now he’s the passive-aggressive one while sipping on the milk bitterly. Either way, this is why you headcount although there are only six of you after Changbin starts getting busy with his college applications. 

“What took you so long?” Jisung looks up from his phone the moment you climb into the passenger’s seat, clicking in your seatbelt (drive safe, kids). 

You immediately feel the need to snap a photo of Jeongin accidentally breaking the cafeteria’s door with the staff running towards him in a panic. They’re more scared for his life than the door itself and that’s… sweet to say the least but with the way that the embarrassed boy is glaring at you through the rear-view mirror, you decide to keep your lips sealed. 

“It’s getting dark so all hallways start to look the same, you genius.”

Jisung momentarily sticks his tongue out at you. “God, you’re so rude to me. You’d never talk to Felix like that.”

“Because,” you drawl. “Lix is a pure-hearted angel descended from the realms of Heaven. Whereas, even Lucifer would see you as an eyesore in hell.”

“See! You’re doing it again!” Jisung points a finger at you in accusation, jumping up and down in his seat but no one really cares. It’s not like you’re speaking any false facts. “Stop bullying me!”

Seungmin shifts his body a little, nose scrunched up at the noises that wake him right up. “Jisung,” he warns his friend without opening his eyes. “Sit the fuck down, you have five seconds.”

Felix smirks when Jisung immediately cowers, slumping and leaning himself against Hyunjin in utter defeat. He learned not to mess with Seungmin after throwing a wallet at him on impulse. “Jealous much, Han?” 

“Nah, she’s all yours bro,” Jisung waves it off tiredly; bickering and making fun of Felix’s gigantic crush on you is too much for his brain to process today. He can really use a long, solid twelve-hour summer hibernation after getting home. 

The statement prompts Felix to look over at you when there’s a red light—the same exact moment as you stop staring at the bakery from across the road to lock eyes with him. There’s a little spark igniting at the pit of his stomach, stirring up butterflies inside his rib cage. But he snaps out of it after seeing you raise a brow at him, implying a silent ‘what?’ before turning away again. Felix has always been the type to stare so you don’t bother to think about it too much. 

The problem is: he only stares at you that way. 

A shade of coral creeps its way up to his cheeks, his gaze averting back on the roads when the light turns green. As Felix tries to calm the erratic tempo of his heartbeat, he also thinks about how much time he’d have left to confess before high school is over and everyone takes their own different paths. Then again, the future is far too blurry for him to make out anything and the thought of changes petrifies him a bit too much. 

Felix wishes to hold your hand until the very end but he’s a little scared...because what if you never wanted to be with him in the first place?

two.

Your brother has one talent, and that’s his ability to irritate the living daylight out of you even when he’s practically on the other side of the planet.

Minho (un)fortunately finished his finals with flying colors, and inevitably, you’re the first victim to receive a series of texts that consisted of nothing but self-indulgent, excessive bragging. Basically, he’s allowed to do whatever slash go wherever for a good three weeks before his summer internship begins, dragging his dumb ass back to hell—where he rightfully belongs. 

He’s probably chomping on a terribly unhealthy amount of pizza, pretzels, and any type of New York street food that you can name from the top of your head. It’s not like he’s paying for them anyway since Chan doesn’t allow people to touch their wallets if they happen to eat out with him. 

Your phone vibrates obnoxiously on your desk, the judder slightly muffled because it’s lying on top of your wide-open psych textbook. You haven’t bothered with cleaning up yet; finals only ended yesterday and you decide that you won’t touch anything until the disarray starts to scrape against your nerves. 

Side note: you’ve specifically told everyone not to call you three consecutive days after finals because yes, you’re that much of a loner, and yes, your stamina level for tolerating human interaction is awfully low. 

Second side note: no one ever listens. 

“Good morning, this is Lee Minho’s personal bullshit pail,” you mumble after your thumb swipes against the screen to pick up, your limbs curled up on the floor. “How can I possibly help you today?” Your morning voice isn’t necessarily threatening but rather scary; according to what Minho claimed, it sounds identical to that creepy girl from The Grudge so he groans aloud, his voice suddenly going out of focus on the other line from pulling his phone away.

“Jesus Christ are you still in your hermit phase after finals?” he questions callously, sounding not at all pleased with the way you greeted him. “Where’s mom and dad? Usually, they would have slammed your ass by now for staying inside like a vampire.”

“Don’t be insufferable, it’s only like…” you trail off while bending forward to take a good look at the little Sumiko Gurashi alarm on your bookshelf that Felix gave you during middle school. “Nine thirty-something and they’re at the park to exercise, duh- why do you care?”

Your brother almost sings on the phone, “Because you’re my little baby sister-” And this prompts you to pull the device away for the sake of your poor ear. It doesn’t help when you’re already surrounded by a group full of obnoxiously loud individuals on a daily basis. Not trying to call anyone out but Han Jisung is at the top of the list, his name in bold, capital letters being circled and underlined multiple times with a red marker.

“Who do I gotta kill to sleep in on a dreadful Sunday morning as any normal, cranky, antisocial high school student would?” you deadpan and rub the bridge of your nose dreadfully. 

“I don’t know, go murder Jisung or something.” Honestly, that’s tempting… but no.

You can physically see the smug smile on his face right now, simpering in delight at your imminent misery. He knows goddamn well about your relationship with sleeping schedules and that’s the perfect excuse for him to ruin those little specks of time when your brain cells are getting an actual break. 

These are also the times when you wish phones don’t fucking exist. 

“By the way, are you gonna go on the field trip tomorrow?” 

This question wakes you up almost completely because your eyes are now wide as a fish’s out of water, your hand automatically putting him on speaker before digging through the folders inside your backpack. What field trip? No one said anything about a field trip. And who thought it’s a good idea to force some worn-out, post-exams, sleep-deprived students into a field trip right after finals?

Minho hums coyly when the only response he’s getting is the rustling sound from your backpack, “Hmm, see what I meant there, little sis? Oh, the downside of living under a rock at its finest.” He doesn’t have to be here for you to fully picture the way that his lips curl up, dark brows wiggling whenever he’s right about something. Your brother wins most of the time against other people but overtaking you is an entirely different story.

“Oh screw off and go buy yourself a sense of humor.”

“Don’t be so mopey, isn’t Felix gonna be there?”

“What does Felix have to do with this?” you grit after managing to pull out a piece of paper from the very back, buried under countless of your essays. And it reads ‘field trip’ in caps at the top with tomorrow’s date right beneath. The trip lasts for three days, you’re going camping with the grizzly bears for three days—a total nightmare, basically. 

“Pfft, you’re actually dense for someone with a sparkly report card,” he sneers. “That kid has been crushing on you since elementary school. Are the signals that fucked up?”

“You mean when I accidentally spilled orange juice over his head? Sure, bet that’s why he’s so head over heels for me,” you snicker, unfazed by these kinds of statements. Minho only knows Felix because he was the president of your school's dance club and you fully believe that your brother is simply trying to mess with your malfunctioning, cranky mindset. 

“I fucking beg to differ, he always stares at you like you’re the love of his life, even when you stupidly poked yourself with a needle,” Minho announces as if he’s a love expert, tsk, amateur. “He might just confess during the trip, who knows? Campfire flickering. Sharing the same s’mores. Surrounded by nature. That sounds romantically ideal to me for a confession.”

He’s visioning everything like a terrible cliché film where two high schoolers stubbornly deny their feelings for each other until they start noticing how cute the other person is while magically being forced to be alone together. The worst kind of high school movie—which is also almost every high school movie. And you best believe that you’d a hundred percent kick your brother’s ass off that director’s chair because people live and breathe for this kind of overused entertainment. Tragic. 

“Alright, fuck this, I’m out-“

“Wait!” Minho exclaims out of nowhere, almost blowing up your eardrums. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

You swear you’re rolling your eyes so hard, they’re about to fall out of their respective sockets. “Well, obviously,” you put the piece of paper down with a sigh, contemplating ways to minimize the amount of socializing in the upcoming three days. “Haven’t you bothered me enough? No?”

“You can’t leave me like this,” he whines in an annoyingly high-pitched voice that sends chills down your spine. 

“You need me, we’re connected.” 

He sounds like a whack version of Minnie Mouse for a second there, the kind of plushie that looks cute but with disturbingly creepy voice audio; no parents would let their children go near that aisle. 

You yawn as if there’s no tomorrow, stretching your limbs tiredly. “What I need is for you to shut the fuck up and leave me alone so I can go on my merry way to pick up snacks for this stupid field trip,” you utter lifelessly. 

“You hurt my feelings,” Minho pretends to clutch onto his chest and lets out a dramatic gasp, his voice doused in pure sarcasm. “What a heartbreaker, Y/N.” Said the one who always keeps his apathetic front up like a fortress’ wall and tosses every single love letter on Valentine’s Day into the recycling bin, handing the chocolate out to his classmates like he’s giving leftover vegetables to his least favorite relatives.

“Oh, I can tell,” you reply with fake enthusiasm and mock empathy. “You know how I can tell?”

“Do not finish th-”

“Cause we’re connected.” With that you hang up, slamming your phone harshly onto the surface of your textbook. 

three. 

You might love your room a little too much, it’s getting somewhat unhealthy.

It was furnished with a rather meager budget after your family moved out of your hometown when you stepped into elementary school. Things stay the same, well, most of it as time passes by you unknowingly. Your sad bookcase used to exist for one sole purpose—carrying countless books and plushies has now been upgraded with too many polaroids of your dumb group of friends, a neatly framed photo of Class of 2020 and two trophies that don’t even belong to you since Minho ran out of space as he kept participating in random dance competitions. 

The morning beams find their way through your white curtains and stain your walls with patches of yellow, eventually bugging your vision until you successfully convince yourself to either 1) wake up and get ready for school or 2) lazily stride across your room to shut the blinds completely so you can head back to bed. It’s summer… so option one is temporarily non-existent for a solid three months. 

Hey, you’re just simply making up for those all-nighters with a new cup of coffee every two hours.

Speaking of your bed, it’s soft but takes up so much space to the point that Hyunjin keeps complaining about not having enough room for his legs when he’s sprawled across the floor with Jisung, vigorously focusing on a presentation’s outline. Seungmin calls you lame for not throwing away your childhood plushies and letting them hog at least one-third of your bed, but Felix doesn’t mind since he always needs something to hug. All the more reasons why you can only trust Felix.

You might miss having those idiots being loud and invading your personal space...maybe.

Your phone rings for the second time that morning when you’re walking downstairs, shoving your keys into your pocket and grabbing a protein bar on the counter. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now, Minho,” you bark into the device, chewing on your breakfast aggressively, not bothering to look at the caller’s ID.

The closest convenience store is only twenty minutes away from your house but there’s a sticky note on the fridge from your mom, reminding you that she needs eggs to bake cupcakes for her company’s twentieth anniversary while your dad is running low on his Red Bulls. Basically, you’re in distress. It’s not like your dad should be inhaling those sugary drinks on a daily basis and your mom can just buy premade goods from the bakery. But there are more options for snacks at the supermarket…

“Y/N, the fuck?” The response of a voice as deep as the Pacific ocean almost makes you choke on air. “Did I wake you up or something?” Felix sounds flabbergasted on the other line, slightly taken aback. You almost feel bad because he’s the only sweetheart in your chaotic squad (besides Chan, obvi) except when he stays up late gaming with Hyunjin, pleading for your notes the next morning with puppy eyes.

“No, Minho did,” you grumble before tossing the wrapping into a bin.

“You don’t say,” Felix replies flatly, but his voice soon grows merry again after pushing the topic of your brother aside. “Oh, and I’m coming over to return your earphones, wanna grab breakfast?”

He practically lives ten minutes away from you, sees you almost every day even if it’s the weekend since he can’t stay in the same house with his sisters for too long and puts you on FaceTime every night to prevent himself from slacking off on assignments. The only time he didn’t get to see you for a week straight was when he visited Australia and accidentally dropped his phone into the ocean. It was a rough week without you nagging him for doing something stupid. Fundamentally, he’s merely making up more excuses to spend time with you after finals.

Chuckling, “Only if you’re treating me, I’m about to go broke from buying snacks for our field trip tomorrow.” you say breezily. 

And you’re only telling him that because he might just pay for your snacks as well since Felix Lee eats freshly grilled steak and mashed potato for breakfast. Baffling, absolutely. Plus, he works at a boba shop every summer either way and he would never hesitate to spend the entirety of his paycheck on any of his close friends. Irrelevant but the point is: you kinda don’t wanna go out alone today.

Or you’re just in the mood to go with Felix. That’s a useless statement since you both see each other at least ten out of twenty-four hours per day. 

“By the way, you know what I just realized?” Felix smacks his palm on his forehead. “This is our last field trip, like ever.”

Walking over to the rack of shoes down the hallway, you let out a large exhale. “That’s unfortunate on your behalf. I, on the other hand, don’t have a problem with that,” you tell him with zero consideration, your brain cells too busy picking out a pair of shoes to process the five basic steps to empathize with another human being. 

“No,” he emphasizes helplessly. “I meant, it’s like our last high school field trip. We’re graduating next year, no time to sleep with the grizzly bears again.”

You can only manage to utter, “Oh.” Shit, college is right around the corners. 

“Jesus fucking Christ what the hell am I supposed to do after high school? Stay here? Go abroad? Wait, aren’t applications for going abroad supposed to be turned in a year beforehand? Why are you only telling me this now!?” 

Felix laughs wholeheartedly through the phone, amused at your sudden outburst. “Y/N, calm down. You’re going to college, not prison,” he brushes it off casually but in a way, college is technically prison. Slaving over a degree while working part-time jobs, chasing time relentlessly like you’re driving in the middle of a foggy night with one headlight out. And you’re forced to open up with more strangers. It’s terrifying, actually terrifying. And you’re not the type to be easily terrified. 

Now come to think about it, you don’t get why you were so pressed about it five seconds ago. It’s a good opportunity not to leech off your parents as much, like dabbling, taking one baby step at a time into adulthood. After that, you’ll graduate again, probably settle somewhere with an adequate job and find someone, starting to think about having ki-

Hold up, you’re going too far. You’re barely a senior. 

“I guess we’ll just have to make the most out of this summer,” Felix’s voice snaps you back to the surface of Earth faster than a tick of a clock. “We’re outside, by the way. Open up.”

That fast? Furrowing your brows, you hang up to slip into a pair of sneakers before sprinting to the front door. Wait, your hand freezes as it grazes the doorknob. We?

Not again. 

“Why the fuck..” you cracks a lifelessly crooked smile after pushing the door wide open. “..are you here?” It’s only ten in the morning, and you don’t think you should be screaming at the top of your lungs to be jumped on by the whole neighborhood.

Felix takes a step back, a little scared for his life. “Uhh, to return your earphones?”

“No, no,” you run a hand through your hair tiredly. Just when you thought this day was gonna be peaceful. “I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about them. Since when was this an agreement? How dare-“

“Why yes, I missed you too!” Jisung exclaims like the little shit he is, throwing an arm over your neck to ruffle your hair. No one ruffles your hair without getting their ass slammed- except for Minho. “Why the long face? Let me guess, until this exact second, you thought there’s a fucking squirrel, a lama, a dog, and a kitten standing at your front porch? No, it’s us, your Forever BFFs.” He’s one of the reasons why you refuse to understand the humans’ language sometimes.

With a harsh shove from you, Jisung staggers backward only for Hyunjin to prevent him from rolling like a ball in the middle of your neighborhood. “One more word and I’m telling the whole class who your crush is,” you threaten, earning an involuntary snort from Seungmin. 

“I hate to admit this, but she might actually say yes if he makes the first move.”

Hyunjin supplies unconstructively, “That’s why he didn’t ask.”

“You know what, Hwang,” Felix says with a smirk tugging at his lips, bumping his fist against Hyunjin’s without turning his head. 

“Oh screw all of you.” Jisung’s getting all the attention he wanted this early in the morning yet he still feels like a loser. Perhaps he should try shutting up once in a while. 

four.

“Thanks for giving me a ride, uncle, you really didn’t have to,” Felix says generously from your dad’s back seats, scratching the nape of his neck as though this is the first time he’s ever shared a ride with you. 

He’s too humble sometimes you just want to smack him across the face with a pillow to stop being so formal with your dad. Heck, Felix downright called him ‘dad’ by accident once during a Christmas dinner back in middle school and your dad even encouraged him to keep addressing him like that. 

Not to mention, Felix is chomping on a turkey sandwich that your mom made this morning specifically for him after finding out that his parents are currently out of town and there's nothing but ramen in the cabinet. God forbids her to starve the same kid who helped your dad fix his bumper. So really, he should be expecting these things by now. 

“Oh it’s not a big deal, you’re too nice,” your dad laughs as he pulls over to your school’s front gate, careful not to run into that one really tall, ugly tree. You’re lowkey paranoid that people might die if it collapses during a storm or something. “Perhaps you can return the favor by getting a drink with me sometimes.”

Felix blinks numerous times, slightly gobsmacked. “...but I’m not old enough to drink yet.”

“Correct answer.” And you snicker when your dad turns around to toss a wink at your friend’s direction. “Doesn’t mean that I’m forbidding you kids have fun,” he clarifies upon the baffled expression on Felix’s face. “But not too much fun, got it?”

“Okay, okay dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you shake your head before climbing out of the car. “Don’t starve the cats while I’m gone. Oh! And Soonie still needs his lactobacillus-“

Your dad brushes it off with a sheepish smile, “I’ll leave it to your mom, muffin, I can’t even remember which dry food is for which cat. I also don’t think they’ll be starving anytime soon, those little demons are getting quite fat actually since your brother spoils them all the time.” You can only give him a mere eye-roll because as much as he claims to hate having pets, there have been countless times when you caught your dad red-handed trying to tuck the cats into bed in the middle of the night. 

Felix soon catches up with your steps after bidding him farewell, crumpling the sandwich wrapper in his palm. “Wait up, muffin,” he says breathlessly with a few skips, starting to think about not skipping dance practice again this summer before his body gets out of shape. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, followed by a harsh elbow jabbed into his side. Felix grunts in pain, slowing down a little but still tries to walk side by side with you nonetheless. “You don’t deserve that complimentary breakfast, I’m telling mom to cut your portion off next time.” 

“Ah! Come on, muffin! You’re being mean.”

Your biggest fear has inevitably come true—after all those years of erratic mood swings and other weird things puberty puts you through, Felix still makes fun of you for the nickname that your parents came up with on your first day of school. It doesn’t help with the fact that he meets them quite often too. Like four out of seven days a week since your parents love coming over to each other’s house for dinner. 

“Flip that scowl upside down now, will you?” Felix cups your cheeks and squishes them together, attempting to make your smile by tugging at the corners of your lips. “Aren’t you excited about the trip?”

You scoff at him, “Are you even hearing yourself? My entire existence reeks off ‘excitement’ 24/7.” 

“That’s bullshit.”

“I’m not responsible for whatever happens next to your face.”

But when you reach up to peel his hands away, you’re bound to make a grave mistake by looking straight into his eyes. The morning light hits his face at the right angle and it makes him look like a puppy—which you wouldn't mind starting at all day. Although it’s not like you haven’t got a good look at him before, something’s different today. From the way his irises twinkle gently like thousands of celestial bodies to how his freckles scattered across his cheekbones like the remaining bits from a supernova, his full lips with a prominent Cupid’s bow and his cute crooked teeth. 

You know all of these things; perhaps you’ve never put too much thought into them before. Not when you’re constantly facepalming at him for doing stupid TikTok dances and trying to eat a banana with its peel on. But now when you actually acknowledge them, your heart momentarily skips a beat. Or two. 

Doesn’t matter, you hate this feeling either way. 

“Get a room, this is disgusting to watch.” 

Seungmin steps in between you two with his backpack slung over his shoulders, hands resting on his hip like he’s babysitting you and your biological parents don’t pay him enough for this tedious job. But Felix is too busy making sure that his eyes aren’t malfunctioning when he sees a pink tint on your cheeks to focus on whatever nonsense Seungmin is spewing at him. 

“Get on the bus, losers! Y’all are embarrassing me!” Hyunjin yells as he plants a foot onto the bus, trying his best not to be subtle about the fact that all of your classmates have already been seated. 

You can practically see Jisung making weird faces from the window and next to him is a very cranky-looking Jeongin with his earbuds plugged in, deciding not to tolerate any chit-chatting this morning. It’s a shame how the school’s always on a low budget when it comes to transportation; consequently, some random freshmen got squeezed in with your class. 

So you elect to ignore your friend’s questionable behaviors (sometimes you wonder what he’s on to be this zealous at six in the morning) and grabs Felix's hand to climb onto the vehicle before coach Kim kicks your ass for slowing the schedule down. 

As you shuffle down the narrow aisle, you quickly realize there are only two seats left at the very back—basically, you feel a little guilty for not getting a good spot for Felix but he doesn’t seem to mind because he taps you on the shoulder lightly, signaling for you to move.

“Ugh, I wanna go home,” you sigh, slumping into your seat after tucking your backpack neatly on the small compartment above. 

“You’re boring,” Felix comments flatly but he’s partially glad that he got to sit with you instead of some blabberer. “Need this?” Fishing his earphones out of his backpack, he wiggles the banana milk case in front of your face. 

You only nod lazily at the offer, causing him to huff in disbelief before slipping in a side of his AirPods into your ear. You both have pretty similar taste in music so you don’t mind when he puts one of his playlists on random and Fly Me to the Moon bleeds into your eardrums. The soft melody makes you yawn a little, eyelids getting droopy. 

“Tired.” Is the only warning Felix gets before you decide to drop your head onto his shoulders, slipping your arm around his torso comfortably like it’s a pillow. You personally don’t do cuddles but since he’s into those things and smells nice—very fruity, somewhat musky too, you might as well take advantage of that with the hope of sleeping throughout the entire ride. 

“What is wrong with you today?” he asks with glowing cheeks. 

“Shh shh, I’m recharging my battery.”

Felix is a little flustered, to say the least. But instead of complaining about your sudden clinginess, he rests his head on top of yours like second nature, allowing his childhood song to drown out some of the background chatters. 

You should really be clingy more often… though he’s not gonna risk his pearly white teeth by telling you that. 

five. 

Your school actually knows how to manage money in a smart way. Shocker, you know. 

You are thrown off upon hearing that no one needs to worry about the grizzly bears, or wolves (hey, one can never be too careful) because everyone gets to share a log cabin with a maximum of three other people. 

In fact, the camp counselors have confirmed that even though they’re throwing a bunch of inexperienced, dumb high schoolers smacked in the middle of the wilderness, there’s really nothing to do other than boring team-building exercises...and fishing. In other words, the only creature that can somewhat do harm to you is mosquitoes. 

It’s been pouring nonstop when your classmates tried to set up the campfire with coach Kim screaming into their eardrums last night, no wonder those little shit are thriving to make your life more miserable—they’re in their element, reproducing at a terrifying pace. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” 

Hyunjin clutches a hand to his chest in both relief and terror after realizing the curled up figure sitting by the window is just you. He steps inside the cabin completely and flings his wet bangs away from his face, shoving the umbrella in his hand into a stand by the shoe rack. “You look like shit, are you okay?” he furrows his brows, slightly concerned about your eyebags and the way your lips crack from dehydration.

A soulless smile finds its way to your face. “I’m pretty sure ‘shit’ and ‘okay’ aren’t supposed to be in the same sentence but thank you for asking, I appreciate it.”

Here’s another downside to being a homebody: you can’t fucking sleep on any other beds that aren’t yours. And surprisingly that two-hour nap on the bus wasn’t enough to fuel you for the rest of the trip. But lucky you, it’s most likely going to keep raining cats and dogs and trash pandas for the rest of the day. Outdoor activities are no longer mandatory and you can almost hear your non-existent muscles crying in sheer joy. 

“Drink,” Hyunjin sighs at your pathetic state and decides to toss a water bottle in your direction. 

However, all you do is retrieve your limbs deeper into Felix’s fluffy blanket since he refused to use the grey one that’s draped over every bed beforehand. You’re far beyond grateful for that because those fading, questionable-looking stains just scare the crap out of you. And also because the fluffy blanket smells like him; you rest your case.

“You were knocked out for the entire bus ride, so why the hell can’t you fall asleep on a decent bed?” Shaking his head, Hyunjin plops himself onto Jisung’s bed like a potato, accidentally knocking over the neatly folded pile of clothes. He really doesn’t give two flying fucks about the fact that his friend spent an excessive ten minutes to organize his stuff so coach Kim won’t be barging into their cabin with a megaphone at five in the morning again. 

“She can only fall asleep on Felix, that’s why.” You roll your eyes in the bitchiest way possible, not bothering to chuck the abandoned water bottle at the unwanted guest of this terrific conversation. 

Hyunjin almost lets out a shriek when Seungmin jolts up from his bed, hair messy, a leg sticking out from his comforter. “You know, until this exact moment, I thought that you were dead or something.”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Seungmin elaborates as he bends over to reach for his glasses with squinted eyes. “There’s a 99,9% that Felix will make the first move but at the same time, it doesn’t mean the other 0,01% won’t happen so you,” he jabs his index finger towards you. “Better be doing something other than walking around camp like a zombie.”

Hyunjin tilts his head in confusion. “Since when was this even a thing?” You’re this close to have a permanent hand imprint on your forehead for facepalming every two seconds with your idiotic friends around. 

“Uhh, since forever?” Seungmin feels the need to voice out. “Listen, since the day Y/N spilled orange juice on Felix’s favorite shirt, the amount of times they’re forced to be together has risen tremendously. And when their parents found out their families live like ten minutes away from each other, they practically see each other every single day. Even outside of school. They tolerate each other, meaning the dynamic is long-lasting. Their bonding encouraged friendship.” 

“But we’re her friends too?”

A deep breath. “No, their friendship was incited to grow into something bigger, more profound because Felix has a special ‘click’ with Y/N that he doesn’t with us. God, Hyunjin, it’s been what, almost a decade! How could you not see it?” Seungmin says with expressive hands, almost yanking every strand of hair off of his head. It’s too early for this, his brain is about to implode. Hwang Hyunjin being dense just feels like a metaphoric chokehold to him. 

“Y/N,” Hyunjin simply ignores his frustrated friend to look over at you slipping into your sneakers. “You’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

“That’s because she’s about to either shut the door in my face then find Felix or kick my ass and then find Felix,” Seungmin informs with a yawn, and this prompts you to muster a fake smile. 

Oh, I’m fucking livid. 

“You know me too well.”

He questions with heavy irony, “I’m sorry did you just agree with me?”

“Oh no, no, I take that back,” you brush him off. “Is Felix still outside fishing?”

“I think so?” Hyunjin replies while running a hand through his hair in mere distress; Felix’s competitiveness goes a little mayhem sometimes when it comes to Jisung being better than him at something since they’re so close. That’s one of the sole reasons why Felix always manages to maintain his flying GPA because Han Jisung procrastinates like no other but still tops his class every single semester. 

“I didn’t find him at the lake, though, wonder where he went.”

You widen your eyes, somewhat alarmed since it’s almost lunchtime, and Felix Lee never, and you mean never, ever let himself skip a meal. He always gets a nice nap after stuffing his face with enough good food too, so that’s a bonus. But that’s not the point, the point is: you’re starting to get a little worried because he’s been fishing all morning, wandering alone in the wilderness without a camp counselor. 

You’d better not find him sleeping with the fishes. 

six.

Maybe you were right, maybe Felix is a dumbass.

Because listening to his ego and coming back to the lake after breakfast was a horrendous idea. 

It’s such a pity how those weird-looking vehicles have stopped driving around camp the moment it started pouring outside. Heck, he didn’t even bring an umbrella after asking the coach to check today's forecast. 

So tragically, he’s now stuck underneath the canopy of a cafe ensuing coursing his way through the water blizzard and seeking refuge but can’t walk back to his cabin where his cabin-mates are probably having the time of their life drinking hot chocolate and nibbling on hand-picked fruits.

Felix exhales in torment while gazing outside, everything’s completely white-out thanks to droplets of raining streaking the horizon. Perhaps dashing back might be his one solitary option, but shivers soon run up his spine again, reminding him that he’s probably looking like a wet rat—his black Converse sodden, water seeping through the thin fabric of his uniform, numbing his skin. 

Ruffling his wet fringe, Felix’s hand fishes inside his pocket to look for his phone only to realize that it’s not there. “Shit...great..just great, today is my lucky day.” Even if the camp counselors didn’t confiscate all the electronic devices, there wouldn’t be any service in the middle of the woods either. Splendid. 

“Ugh, Y/N,” he groans under his breath. “Why did you let me do this?”

“Shit.”

 “AHH!”

Felix shrieks upon the tiny voice squeaking out from behind him. And he sighs in pure relief to see a little girl standing mere inches away, looking no more than a seven-year-old dressed in a yellow raincoat. “Hey kid,” he chuckles and crouches down to her eye level. “Where are your parents? You’re not supposed to be out here alone when it’s pouring like crazy.” 

And to his dismay, “Shit,” the little girl giggles, finding a new profound interest in the curse word that he accidentally spewed out seconds ago. 

“Shh shh,” Felix frantically places an index finger on his lips while darting his eyes around in terror—he might be sued if her parents found out how their daughter picked up a bad word from some random high schooler. Suddenly he feels bad for his future kids. “No, no, we can’t say that. It’s forbidden. What’s your name?”

“Mina,” she answers cutely and fiddles with the ends of her braids. “Who’s Y/N? Is she your girlfriend?”

Felix chokes on his own saliva. “...no, why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, my dad always calls my mom’s name when he messes things up.”

“What does that have to do with- oh, shit,” he facepalms himself. This kid is going to give him a cardiac arrest any second now. “It doesn’t matter if she’s my girlfriend or not, what matters is I need to get you back to your parents. Do you know where they are right now?”

Mina simply shakes her head with a pout. “Okay, let’s go find them then,” he can’t help but cracks a smile, ruffling her hair endearingly. Most kids would be bawling their eyes out by now knowing that they’ve strayed from their parents; she’s a tough one. 

Felix gently grabs Mina’s hand, biting down on his lower lip as he prays that a cold doesn’t catch up to him tomorrow and ready to dash out of the canopy that’s been keeping him dry for the last hour or two. But then a figure comes into view from afar, holding an umbrella while squinting their eyes through the thick streaks of rain. 

“Y/N..?” he mutters to himself in disbelief when you quickly skip underneath the canopy, collapsing the red umbrella in your hands. Felix recognizes that umbrella anywhere—isn’t that Hyunjin’s? Have you been looking for him? And for how long too?

“Didn’t even think about bringing an umbrella, smartass,” you say with a raised eyebrow. “Oh dear, who do we have here?” Before Felix can defend himself in vain with lame excuses, you’ve already taken your attention off him to stare at the unfamiliar presence. Your intense gaze scares Mina a little, causing the little girl to squeeze Felix’s hand, hiding behind his leg. 

Your friend laughs, patting her little head in reassurance. “Mina, this is Y/N, my classmate. Don’t let her intimidate you.”

“Are you really going to bother with this little one?” you scrunch your nose a bit. “We’re having pork rib soup, by the way, better hurry if you don’t want Han to hog your portion all to himself.”

Felix rolls his eyes at how utterly apathetic you are towards children. If you can get a perfect A in calc then why is it so hard to simply comprehend that every twelve-year-old needs to be returned to their hypothetical parents safely? “What part of ‘a common sense of morality’ can’t you understand?” 

“I don’t want to, actually, sounds like a lot of work,” you hum sarcastically. 

“Your girlfriend is scary,” Mina ensconces herself further behind your friend, officially detecting you as a threat rather than someone who will potentially bring her back to the cabin where her parents are probably flipping the whole place upside down in a panic—which is exactly what you’re planning to do. 

In your defense, you don’t detest kids in general. Only the bratty ones. And Mina is borderline bratty. 

“You know, I can spare her some time, Lost and Found is like..ten minutes away from here.”

“Y/N-” Felix wants to scream at you, rubbing the side of his temple in distress. Imagining you babysitting your neighbor’s newborn last summer with nine bucks per hour, ten hours per day, and five out of seven days per week is one of the few things that constantly keeps him from having a good night's sleep. It baffles him how you haven’t accidentally drowned the infant while giving her a bath. 

Mina gives the side of his jeans a tug, round eyes staring up at him expectantly. “Or we can get juice pops!” she exclaims happily and looks over to you, mustering her best puppy eyes. “Please? I don’t want to be alone..” 

“Twenty seconds ago, you called me scary and now you’re guilt-tripping me?” you crouch down to get a good look at the kid. Bright, innocent brown eyes, cute button nose, and a chipped front tooth—perhaps she’s a little too cute to not get her juice pops. 

Then, “And juice pops too? You evil mad mind genius,” you say after standing up to unfold Hyunjin’s umbrella, swinging it over the top of your head. “That’s extortion, kid, you’re too young for that.”

Felix breaks into a fit of giggles upon seeing you failing at trying to keep a straight face and steps in beside you under the umbrella. His next problem just pops up right then and there—Mina can’t squeeze in considering the umbrella that Hyunjin gave you is solely used for one person. 

“Mina, hop on here,” he decides to get on his knees, permitting the little girl to clumsily climb on his back and eventually plopping herself onto his shoulders. 

“Oh, oh, oh, can you two hold hands?” Mina suggests with a shit-eating grin on her face. This causes Felix’s cheeks to burn with a bright shade of red while you’re too busy throwing daggers at her with your eyes to notice. “My family does this all the time, my dad would carry me on his shoulders and my mom would hold his hand as we walk home after going to the park.”

You and Felix yell simultaneously, “We’re not your parents!!” But that doesn’t seem to scare the little girl. You’re both just encouraging her. 

“Yip yip, horsey, don’t be disobedient now,” she giggles to herself and pulls at a solid patch of Felix’s hair, making you cringe because his hair and scalp have already had enough from his questionable obsession with bright hair colors. 

“Ow! Mina! Stop it! Ow!”

“Okay quit torturing my friend,” you tell her and decide to slip your hand in with Felix’s, intertwining your fingers to secure the grip before showing it to Mina so that she’ll stop before any blood is drawn. “There, we’re holding hands just like your mommy and daddy, you happy?” 

Felix doesn’t say anything even when Mina nods happily, releasing her monstrous grip off his poor scalp. He only lets you tug him away from the canopy of the cafe as he gazes downward, eyes glued to how your hand fits into his perfectly. The sound of rain tapping against the umbrella suddenly bugs him, suffocating him in a way. In other words, it’s really unnatural to think this way about his best friend but he doesn't want you to let go at all. 

Everything seems to move faster when you’re holding onto his hand so certainly. Felix thinks you’re fully aware but try to fight off the voices that are taunting you to just drop it. And truth is, you can care less because your head is now far too fuzzy to focus on anything but the road ahead. 

You pray he doesn’t feel the pounding rhythm from your veins. If your red ears haven’t given it away already. 

seven.

Jisung has weird friends, that’s a fact. And no, you’re not talking about the gang that saved his ass every time he got into trouble aka you plus JeongMinLixJin. You’re talking about those kids from Class 2C that are mutual friends with Changbin.

Because the moment Jisung barges into the cabin and starts babbling nonsense that you can’t comprehend (not that you can comprehend any of his shit on the daily), you know that he just came back from a get together with those sketchy dudes who managed to sneak some booze inside a shampoo bottle.

“Uhm okay, who gave Felix alcohol?” he squints his eyes hard. 

You are more than aware that Jisung is mildly smashed by the way that his cheeks are tinted with a light shade of coral, hiccupping every ten seconds and slightly more clumsy with his feet. He almost tripped over the rug at the front door if it weren’t for Hyunjin who caught him in time so that he wouldn’t break one of his precious teeth. Those painful years of constantly slurping on watery porridge after every dentist appointment to tighten his braces shouldn’t be going down the drain. 

Speaking of bland rice water, that’s all Felix has been fed with after returning to camp because he has no choice. The sickness finally caught up to him as a result of staying outside for too long while still dressed in his rain-soaked uniform. Even under the cotton comforter, he’s radiating heat on the outside but stoically shivering on the inside, his energy level is as diminished as his appetite. 

The nurse said there’s really nothing that can be done but give him some pills and let him ride it out so now Felix’s all curled up in a corner of his bed, cheeks burning flush of fever, coughing and sneezing occasionally. He refuses to be moved to a completely separate cabin because sleeping alone in a confined place knowing that the grizzly bears might be roaming outside your door is quite frightening for a junior in high school. 

“God, what makes you think I’m the batshit drunk one here?” Felix croaks, his voice more hoarse and gruff than usual because every word pains him, his vocal cords pulse in agony at each syllable. And that sentence was probably the longest thing you’ve heard from him since dinner. 

Jisung lets Hyunjin toss him onto his bed, face down, and props himself up on his forearms. “Uhh, have you checked yourself the mirror?” he hiccups, words a bit slurred, palms outstretched in a grabby motion. “Seungmin, water- ow! What the fuck was that!?” 

He rubs the side of his head while babbling incoherently like a fucking five-year-old because Seungmin decided to chuck a water bottle at him. Those years of playing baseball during retreats indeed paid off. 

“I went for the head,” Seungmin looks up from his book calmly, acting innocent. 

Jisung whines and turns to his side, watching as the water bottle rolls back towards him after coming in contact with the wall. “God, I miss Minho. You guys suck,” he takes it before sitting right up but flops himself back down when a pang of pain claws at his temple. Who even allowed him to drink?

“Didn’t he make your high school experience miserable?” Hyunjin laughs, sitting down on the corner of his bed, legs curled into his chest. 

“Hello? That was me,” Seungmin clarifies, he sounds a little offended. “He called me a nerd for studying late at the library for our finals! Our fucking finals! Do you know how insecure my freshman self was? I was so hurt!” 

You cross your arms and mumble, “He’s the same guy who treated you ice-cream after finding out you got a B in physics.”

Hyunjin hums, butting into the topic, “And he made me do fifty push-ups because I unintentionally skipped a day at practice. Our Dance Club really didn’t need a president who effortlessly snatches the Asshole of the Year Award like he’s stealing candies from a kid.”

“Please, you’re practically buddies now,” you scoff. “You always play Mario Kart and rewatch the Avatar series with him, even during midterms!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Jisung suddenly gets on his feet, jumping up and down like a maniac. You’re highly concerned for the bed by the creaking sound that it’s making—sounds just like something straight out of a horror film. “He almost threw a knife at me!”

You’re running out of excuses to defend your stupid brother at this rate. What’s the point in trying anyway? “Han, it was a plastic knife, chill.”

Jisung crawls off his bed to approach you, pinching his thumb and index finger together before shoving them to your face. “I was this close to dying! You try having someone threaten to throw a knife at you during lunch break,” he complains like it’s the end of the world. Truth is, you’ve seen (and experienced) worse things. 

“Minho’s still my brother.”

Staring at you, Jisung looks unimpressed. “He wanted to kill me because I commented on his puffy cheeks that day.”

“He’s adopted.”

The conversation is pulled to a halt right there when Felix does a full-body groan, his head spinning and sweats starting to collect at his hairline. With his mind buzzed like he’s floating, the bickering only adds to the pressure that’s squeezing each of his functioning brain cells. In other words, it feels as though Han Jisung is a fucking hamster going on a marathon across his body, nibbling on his limbs and ears as he’s going through a hangover, his immune system going on a rampage. 

Felix doesn’t even drink. 

“That’s my call for a bedtime story.” You glare at Jisung when he clears his throat while you’re attempting to tuck Felix into bed, pressing your palm against his forehead to check his temperature. It’s not climbing anymore, he should be okay after sweating everything out. 

Hyunjin pulls his friend back onto his bed, locking his limbs in tight before he waddles around and potentially breaks one of those decorative pieces on the bookshelf. “Not to burst your ego, but I don’t think you’re sober enough to give us a good story,” he says unapologetically. 

“Puh-lease,” Jisung lets out the weirdest chuckle at that, wagging his forearm like those Japanese ceramic cat figures that are supposed to bring people good fortune; and Han Jisung is notorious for bringing people anything but good fortune. “They didn’t even have vodka, only Strongbow. That shit is too weak for me.”

You snort involuntarily, “Actually, I think you meant you’re too weak for those bottles of cider.”

“Wow, Y/N, what a snake.”

eight.

The bonfire crackles, flaring up to life when coach Kim tosses a lit matchstick into the pyramid pile of branches and woods. The flame projects long shadows of the trees all round along, swirling and curling in obscure shapes with the high schoolers that each hugs their own cup of hot cocoa, chomping on their marshmallows of choice. 

Glowing embers beneath are colored by the inferno that seems to be moving with the rhythm and melody of the song that they’re all singing along, drumming their feet and bobbing their heads simultaneously. 

“Are you guys sure you don’t want to join them?” Felix says apologetically after sneezing into a piece of tissue, his nose all red and swollen. “I can just… I don’t know, read a book or something.”

When he refers to those oddly colorful and rather bulky-looking books on the shelves, Seungmin immediately stops putting a cookie inside his mouth midway. “Those are called ‘aesthetically useless interior decoration’, Lix. Good luck trying to open those plastic blocks,” he expresses with his hands after stuffing the cookie into his mouth, chewing rather aggressively. 

Felix feels quite bad because, for all he knows, Hyunjin and Seungmin have been planning on going kayaking today and trying out volleyball tomorrow. You’re all going home in two days yet they’ve done nothing but pigging out in pure distress. “Still, it’s a summer camp, you all should be out there having fun, not stuck inside to look after me while tolerating...that,” he quietly looks over at Jisung who just exited the bathroom after splashing his face with some water. 

At least he doesn’t look crazy and homeless now. 

“How are they doing that again?” you join Hyunjin as he rests his head lazily on his forearms, staring outside from the cabin’s window like Rapunzel in an alternative universe where Flynn Rider managed to escape the tower with the crown, leaving her behind longing for civil human interactions in vain. 

“They sing..” he drawls. “And turn their heads to look at each other in the eye.”

You wave it off absentmindedly, falling on your back so now your head is hung upside down from the bed, your arms dangling midair. “Well, that sounds exhausting,” you mumble, ignoring the way that Seungmin is internally judging you. 

Hyunjin sighs, “Never one for sentiment, are you?”

“Easier to let it burn,” you answer flatly, sitting upright when blood starts rushing to your head. 

“Don’t feel bad,” Seungmin immediately forces a smile at Felix. “We’re not really into sitting with a bunch of idiots just to enjoy a mildly decent hot cocoa either way.”

Suddenly the lights go out, and Felix immediately curls himself further into the blanket, a little thrown off. Jisung’s face comes into view out of nowhere when he makes a grab for the oil lamp that no one seems to take notice of, lighting it up with a single match. “C’mon, kids, no bonfire is complete without a good ghost story,” he crosses his legs on the floor happily, still somewhat tipsy so his body is bouncing in excitement with occasional hiccups. 

Hyunjin and Seungmin exchange questionable looks before scrambling to the floor, settling themselves a few solid inches in front of the oil lamp with a sigh while you only shrug at Felix, propping your head onto your hands. Laziness is starting to hold you hostage on Hyunjin’s bed at this rate. 

Seungmin spares Jisung a slight glare, “Better not bullshit us with the same one that you heard at school-”

“No,” Jisung’s lips morph into something similar to a smirk, he looks concerningly confident for someone who’s utterly terrified after watching IT. And now he’s attempting to give his bros who are equally jumpy about everything and anything, you’re excited to see how this goes. “I heard this one from a camp counselor, true story.” You definitely don’t like the sound of that.

At first, the ghost was no more than a chill in the air, a shimmer of mist to the common eyes. Through the heavy rain and fog that seeps through people’s skin, chilling the core of their bones, it slowly came into focus. It wasn’t until the camper found refuge under a canopy of an abandoned café that it congealed into a form—a small child with brilliant round eyes, dressed in white clothing. 

For a moment, all was silent and still. It was as though the camper got hypnotized, feet planted to the ground. Then, he could hear a small lullaby in a cheerful voice. 

“Oranges and Lemons say the bells of St.Clements…” They know how that one ended. 

Suddenly someone blows out the candle, but Jisung’s voice still rings in your eardrums. “When the camper took a step back, the ghost spoke again, this time with the voice almost of a smoker and grin…” You can feel Hyunjin hop back to bed with you in a tick of a clock, holding onto you for dear life with the infrequent whimpers of fear. 

Jisung proceeds to continue, “The grin soon became a snarl, baring teeth like a wolf when it finished the lullaby…”

A muffled silence descends. And, “Have you come to play…?”

“AHHH!!” Felix lets out a petrified shriek, but what confuses you is the sound of Jisung grunting rather in pain. Seungmin sighs in disapproval, flickering the lights on while leaning back against the wall. 

And now before your eyes is a slightly traumatized, feverish Felix with clattering teeth, quivering inside his blanket. Whereas, Jisung is sprawled across the floor, hugging his poor stomach, hacking up lungs. Deserve.

“This is why you don’t give people who can high-kick jump scares, dumbass,” Seungmin comments and crouches down in front of Jisung like his knight in shiny armors, letting a bottle of ointment dangle between his fingers. “Put this on, bet it’s already bruising.”

Hyunjin releases his arms around you and walks towards the freckled boy who looks like he’s about to slip into a coma. “Lix, are you okay?” he knits his brows together, starting to feel somewhat concerned. 

Felix only waves it off with a raspy laugh, standing on wobbly legs with his blanket still wrapped around his figure. “I’m fine, I’ll just go wash my face.” Truth is, he’s anything but fine. And it doesn’t help when he accidentally has a glance of his own reflection in the body-length mirror from across the cabin—his hair is sticking to his forehead, his face is slightly more puffy than usual, and his eyebags look like he hasn’t slept in decades—he looks worse than a trash can, basically. 

“Hyunjin,” you raise a brow at your friend’s current state.

“What?”

“Catch him.”

“Huh-” Hyunjin snaps his head back when a loud thud is heard, eyes growing twice as big in sheer panic upon the sight of Felix laying on his stomach, mere inches away from his feet. “Felix!!” Your friends rush to his side while you’re too busy checking the thermometer by his nightstand. The temperature doesn’t seem to be too alarming, he should be fine after sleeping and sweating it out. But really, Felix looks more like he’s having the nap of a lifetime rather than passing out from the worst fever of the century. That doesn’t stop everyone from freaking out, unfortunately. 

Also, everyone can agree that this is the first and last storytime to ever happen.

nine.

Felix sits on the beach, eyes moving from sand to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. He lets out a sigh, an exhale of relief when a breeze passes by him, tousling his hair as he buries his feet deeper into the primrose-colored grains. The briny aroma that exists in every fiber of air makes him feel at ease, as though unknotting all his angsty-teenager worries with grace. He feels a bit better, partially because his fever has already gone down when he shook you out of your half-asleep state at four in the morning. 

“Why?” you ask without turning your head after sensing his tense posture.

Felix looks confused, a little startled when you break the silence. “Why what?”

“Why the long face?” you unknowingly exhale too, stubbornly gazing forward. “Thinking about something?” For some reason, you’re too...scared to even spare him a small glance. This isn’t you, did his fever rub off on you or something?

To your dismay, his sudden inquiry catches you off guard. “High school is going to be over in a year, have you thought about what to do?” 

You open your mouth to protest with something along the line of he’s overthinking again and there’s still an entire year ahead to make new memories but when you’re about to utter the first word, your mouth automatically snaps itself close. It’s like you have an entire masterpiece planned out in your mind but when someone tosses you a blank canvas, you’re standing there in defeat like the biggest idiot. Felix is serious this time, you know it’s not because he’s lightheaded after riding out the fever. 

“Honestly?” you breathe out. “No, I haven’t. God, I don’t even want to think about it, the future scares me a little.”

Upon the mossed rock and vibrant horizon, comes the sun rays that are promised by the starlit sky. It makes you both a little breathless, not exchanging a single word nor moving a muscle for a while. 

Until, “Fine, it scares me a whole lot,” you confess, gaze cast downward as you hug your legs closer to your chest. “It sucks because everyone seems to have their lives together, Jisung is finally taking his interest in music seriously, Hyunjin is planning on being an actual theater kid, and Seungmin is...I don’t know, but he’s definitely onto something. Point is, everyone is already one too many steps ahead of me, I’m just..here, stuck. And I don’t feel like I have-”

“A lot of time left.” Felix finishes your sentence, prompting you to look at him this time. His delicate features shine under the cracking lights of dawn, starry eyes twinkling and lips outstretched into the smile that you absolutely adore. He has such a contagious type of smile that it makes you feel a little less dead inside whenever you see it. But your heartbeat also grows a little more ecstatic. 

A hearty chuckle. “You’re not alone, you know,” he says while not breaking away from the eye contact, this makes your throat grow dry. “I still have so much to do, so much to...say yet too little time. So yeah, don’t think about it too much, I’m never gonna leave you behind no matter what.”

You have to hold back a playful scoff at that; and to think he was the one who brought up this sappy topic. “If anything, you’re the overthinker in this relationship,” you tell him with a nudge on his rib. “But if you’ve already had my back, then you should know that I’ll always have yours too.”

Because what would you do without an overthinker like Felix? Drowning your sorrow by stress-eating in the middle of the night? Bottoming out on questionable drinks to end up like Han Jisung? Winging every single important choice that can potentially flip your life upside down in either a good or bad way? Not in a million years. He knows that you need him as much as he needs you, harsh truth but you still hate it either way.

You both don’t look forward to the future, like at all. 

You’re too apathetic and overall just a big ‘meh’ about it. You’re the type of person that goes with the flow, letting life toss you around like a ragdoll until you finally snap at some point to fight back because you know where the line between giving up and knowing that you’ve had enough is. Meanwhile, Felix is rather anxious about things. If a piece of paper with a pencil can draw out the map of his entire destiny ahead then he’ll have it finished in one night. But he’s grown out of his middle school self to know that things don’t always go as planned.

Guess if things turn out to be shit, you’ll still have him.

“Does that mean if we’re still single in our thirties, you’ll marry me like how our parents always joke about?” Felix cracks a shit-eating grin this time, one that makes your heart swell but for the most part, you wanna whack him unconscious with a pillow. 

You sneer in return, “Sure, but you’ll have to fall for me first.”

There’s a pang in Felix’s chest, it’s so loud and evident that he’s afraid you might hear it. You really didn’t have to slap him in the face with that seemingly harmless statement. “Hmm, who would even fall for a stubborn hermit crab like you?” he jokes to hide the nervousness that’s crawling upon his spine. His ears are probably bright red right now. “Although...that wouldn’t be a problem with me.” Because he’s already fallen for you, a little too hard actually.

“What does that even mean?” you only hum after questioning his statement, nothing makes sense right now since you’re getting a little sleepy because a certain someone wanted to watch the sunrise which simply lasted for about two minutes after two(ish) hours of waiting.

“I don’t know,” Felix laughs before standing up, dusting the sand off of his jeans. “You go figure it out, smartass.” With that, he runs off with his Converses dangling between his fingers, leaving you dumbfounded in the middle of the beach like a total dimwit. Slowly, within those five seconds of making eye contact with your best friend again, his words zero in on you like a wakeup call. 

Urgently grabbing your sneakers, you chase after him. “Hey- wait! GET BACK HERE!” By looks of it, you’ve probably figured it out now. It’s not like he’s trying to be subtle either.

Felix feels like he just gained strength from spewing out that indirect confession, and it gives him a tiny ray of hope that he still has his entire youth before his eyes to tell you how he really feels. Or his whole life if you don’t start resenting him for crossing the line that no one dares talk about when they have a thing for their best friend. 

Either way, as long as Felix sees your presence side by side with him at every ups and downs, he’s home. 

[the-lady-writes-what]

23. Hitoshi Shinsou

          Theme: Haunted mirror, dark spirit

          Kinks: Mind control, fear play, bondage, non-con, cum play, fingering, possession 

All underaged characters are aged up. Hitoshi Shinsou is 18+, plus this is a demon AU so he's technically way older than that. Don’t come for me unless I send for you.

Warning: This contains very graphic and dark material including but not limited to non-con, unwilling bondage, and forced orgasms. Reader discretion is advised. Scary ending. 

Masterlist

Your friends noticed it first. The way your new mirror behaved strangely. Mirrors don’t misbehave; they’re mirrors. That didn’t stop your friends from talking about the weird vibes your mirror gave them. Images shifted or wavered in its reflection. Fog appeared out of nowhere. Handprints appeared when no one touched it; puffs of air clouded the surface. It was as if someone invisible lived on the other side of the mirror. Despite all their warnings and misgivings, the mirror stayed in your hallway.

“Okay, Y/N, that mirror has to go,” said Jiro.

You furrowed your brows. This wasn’t the first time Jiro, and others, suggested it. The massive antique mirror with its ornate frame continued to hang in your hall. You rolled your eyes a second later. 

“What did you see more handprints, or was it a ghost this time?” You asked half-joking.

“It was a whole-ass face is what I was looking at!” Said Jiro.

“A face, really?” Your brow shot upwards. “The next thing you’re going to tell me is that you saw a deadman in my rearview mirror.”

“Jiro’s right, Y/N. I saw it too,” said Momo.

Ochaco shuddered. “It was so creepy. Its eyes were staring into my soul.” 

“Not you too.” You sighed.  

“Get rid of that mirror!” All at once, your three friends shouted.  

“There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just a mirror, you guys. I’ve never seen anything weird. It’s just your imagination.”

Your friends didn’t appreciate you discounting their concerns. In truth, you didn’t see even half of what they claimed. The mirror was old, gathered a lot of dust, and was slightly warped. It was a unique piece that you got for a steal.

A steal alright. That should have been your first red flag, you remember Jiro a week after you purchased it. Why would anyone sell an antique mirror for so cheap?

You ignored her jab and polished it up. You ignored Jiro’s warnings now too. Your patience was growing thin with your friends because of their ghost stories and things appearing in the mirror. It was borderline ridiculous. The joke had lost its punchline a long time ago. 

“There’s somebody I know who can tell you we’re not crazy. If you don’t believe her, fine. Suit yourself. But if you’re wrong, you have to pitch it.”

You shrug your shoulders. While everybody else snuck past the mirror, you were the only one to stop and look at your reflection. Just out of curiosity, you stared at it and hoped to see an apparition like your friends said you would. There was only you in the mirror. No spooky handprints, no breath fogging up the other side of the mirror, no eyeballs piercing through your soul. It was just an old mirror. You rode in the car with your friends to a metaphysical shop on the other side of town.  

“Baba Yaga, this is the girl I was telling you about,” said Jiro as she gestured towards you. She was speaking with an elderly lady who wore a dark blue velvet dress and a floral shawl. “Tell her that she needs to get rid of her cursed mirror.”

She padded over to you, strolling with her knotted cane. The woman adjusted her glasses and squinted up at your face. Her eyes narrowed into sharp slits as she examined your pores. Suddenly, the woman grabbed your wrist and splayed your fingers outward. Wrinkled fingers caressed the palm of your hand, bent and examined your fingers. She shook her head from time to time and hummed to herself. 

Your fingers were curled back towards your palm. The older woman pressed both of her hands around you and held on. 

“You have a dark presence hovering over you, that’s for sure. It’s subtle, which makes it that much more evil. You can’t see the spirit in the mirror because it doesn’t want you to. You are in grave danger, young lady. Its power washes over you. The longer you keep that mirror, the more powerful it becomes.” You smiled politely. “I think I’ll be just fine, ma’am.”

“No, you won’t,” the old woman snapped. “You are in danger.” She repeated.

“You harbor a wicked spirit in your house. It will come to you on the night when Selene is covered by Zeus’ dark and stormy shroud. You must get rid of the mirror!” 

You snatched your hand away and spun on your heels. You didn’t wait for your friends. Instead of going to the car, you called for a cab. Your phone vibrated with the text messages they sent you, but you turned your phone on silent. You arrived home just as gray clouds settled across the sky. You didn’t think much of it until you heard rain on your windows and on your roof. You barely made it inside when the storm hit. 

It’s just a stupid coincidence, you told yourself. 

You walked into the hall to set your jacket and purse on the hanger placed in there. You couldn’t resist stopping by the mirror. You looked into it again. You stared into its depths until your eyes began to water. There was still no sign of the ghost your friends warned you about. 

You climbed up the stairs, took a bubble bath, and spent the rest of the night curled up in bed. You turned off the lights before slipping under the covers. Lighting peeled across the sky while thunder rolled. The rain helped you fall asleep, and you were warm underneath your blankets, safe and secure in the knowledge that nothing about the mirror could hurt you.

The sound of shattering glass woke you. You sat up in bed. Your hand instinctively reached for the lamp on your bedside table and tugged on the cord. Nothing. You pulled again, and your light refused to turn on. You checked your phone only to realize that your battery died despite still being plugged into a charger. You swore as you bolted out of bed. Testing the overhead light, you were again disappointed. 

You pulled your door open as quietly as possible and hoped your footsteps were light enough to avoid alarming the burglars. You grabbed an umbrella by your front door. It isn’t much, but the umbrella did have a pointy end. You crept softly, pushed forward by fear to know who was in your house. But as you tip-toed, something in the hallway sparkled and grabbed your attention by the throat. You stepped closer only to realize that they were mirror shards. Pieces of glass were shattered over your floor. The mirror’s frame was bent and split apart. It held together with only a couple bits of wire. 

Bile rose in your throat. You didn’t hear any footsteps or voices. You growled under your breath and glared at the mirror shards lying at your feet. No longer was it burglars you had to fear.

“That wasn’t funny, you guys!” You called out.

No one answered. You rushed back to the front door and reached for the lock, only to find that the lock was still set. Then you realized that nobody had a key to your house. Undoubtedly, your friends wouldn’t stoop so low as to break in just to smash your antique mirror. 

Floorboards creaked. It was in the living room. All your bravery sank like a stone. You dropped your makeshift weapon and scrambled for the stairs. All was cloying darkness. Your hands wrapped tight around the banister as you raced up the stairs. Once you were safe on the second floor, you ran to your room and slammed shut the door. Your fingers groped in the dark for the lock and twisted it. You pushed your desk in front of your door and slowly backed away. 

You walked backward to your bed then stopped dead in your tracks. You quit because you felt something tangible collide with your back. An arm like a redwood trunk snaked around your waist as a hand clapped across your mouth.

“Don’t scream just yet, little thing. Let me enjoy the smell of your fear first.” A voice husked against your ear. 

A tongue dragged along your earlobe. The deep chuckle following after laughed at your shudders as they ripped through your body. You clawed at hand on your mouth, but no amount of scratching could deter him. Whoever he was, he bent his head and pressed his nose where your shoulder and neck met. A hoarse grumble vibrated in his chest, which was bare. You felt his cold, clammy skin press against your back, solid as stone. You felt him through your nightshirt in all his muscled glory. Cold beads of sweat ran down the side of your face as you realized that there was no way you could fight him. 

“That’s a good girl. You know I’ve been watching you. All this time, I’ve been watching you. You must have really liked my mirror,” said he. 

Your brows furrowed into a deep V-shape. Thunder clapped overhead. The old woman’s words rang in your head like funeral bells. It will come to you on the night when Selene is covered by Zeus’ dark and stormy shroud. You felt your blood throb in every vein in your body. Your heart palpitated inside your chest.

“Ah, yes. There we go. I love more than just a little bit of fear. I want you to live in terror of me. You’ll taste that much better for me.”

An orange tongue of flame appeared out of nowhere. It hovered over your desk. Your eyes took a moment to get used to the sudden light. The arm at your waist loosened only for a pair of hands to grab your biceps and squeeze. You hissed as you felt bruises form on your skin.

The man spoke in your ear again.

“Go over there and fetch the light, but do not look back at me. You may only look at me by the light of that candle, do you understand?”

You didn’t. You only saw a tongue of flame flickering while it hovered over your desk. He released you. You padded over to the desk, which blocked your only exit. You reached out just below the tiny flame. In the blackness, your fingers grazed on some warm wax. Your fingers ran up and down along a long slender black candle that appeared in your hand. Your hand trembled as you took it up. 

“Good, good, you’re so wonderfully obedient. Now, slowly turn towards me and look upon the face of your new master.”

You didn’t want to, but your legs move of their own accord. You strained against the intangible threads pulling at your muscles and tendons. You felt the lower half of your body move separately from you, and you watched in horror as your feet turned to face him. You shut your eyes tight. 

“I said ‘look at me.” The man’s—no. The creature’s voice dropped several octaves, and it sounded as if multiple voices erupted from his throat. Your eyes snapped open against your will. Tears made their way down your face as your eyelids were peeled open so wide. Your pupils strained in the darkness briefly. By the lighten of the orange flame, you saw him. 

He was tall, muscled, and inhumanly pale. His skin was the color of moonlight on a grave. And his face gods his face. Belying his otherworldly, unearthly beauty lay the heart of a beast. Gray-purple crescents like grotesque dark circles hung under his eyes. Indigo eyes matched his hair, which he left in a mess. Like he just woke up from whatever hellscape he crawled out of. All of his muscles were taut and lean, further proving that you had no chance of fighting him off. Your feet padded across your bedroom floor towards him. An invisible hand held your chin high so that you met his gaze more clearly.

“My name is Hitoshi, and I was trapped in that mirror for four hundred years. I’ve been waiting for you. The incarnation of the witch who banished me there in the first place!” The creature spat. 

Your blood turned icy cold. 

“Please, please don’t kill me. I’m sorry. Let me, l-let me make it up to you. I promise I won’t hurt you ever again!” 

“My plan was never to kill you.” Hitoshi reached out with his stony hand, grabbed your waist, and pulled you flush against his body. “I plan to make you mine. Forever. Then you will know the horror of being trapped against your will.”

“What? NO!” 

The candle was snatched from your hand. Hitoshi turned and threw you unto the bed. The candle reappeared above your head and several other candles that melted into the bedroom’s shadows, cleaved through the air. Blidnign tongues of fire flickered above your bed. 

Your clothes were ripped off you, and the torn remains bound your hands together to the bedpost above your head. The same was done to your ankles. Hitoshi stood from the bed to admire his work. The black silken pants he wore slithered off his body, revealing his proud, jutting member and the bead of pre-cum on the blunt head. Hitoshi climbed on top of the bed. The bed dipped under his weight. You thrashed about in the vain hope to yank the knots undone. Hitoshi merely laughed at your efforts. 

“I suppose I’ll let you resist the first time. It’ll be more fun getting you to moan while I corrupt you.” His hands dragged upwards along your thigh. “From the inside out.”

You shook your head and cried aloud. No amount of protesting was getting you out of this. Hitoshi licked his lips and stroked his cock as he sat on his knees. He straddled your waist. He was fucking his hand right in front of you. You tried to look away, but a force held your head still, and your eyes peeled open. Hitoshi stroked long, fast, and hard. 

“I-I need…to get my scent all over you. To make sure anyone else who might cause me trouble…FUCK! Tries coming around. You smell…so good!” 

Hitoshi came and sprayed your face, chest, and neck with his cum. The substance was sticky and hot on your skin. He didn’t waste time smearing it all over your breasts, palming your chest, and teasing your nipples. Your body acted on instinct, not out of your desire, and bucked against him. 

“It’s working, isn’t it? Just having my cum on your flesh…makes you fucking wet for me!” He wore the triumphant grin of an incubus who just seduced the most stubborn prude in the land. 

“No, I’m not!” 

“Oh?” 

Hitoshi reached behind him and drove two fingers inside your pussy without warning. He stroked your clit before sliding between your folds and plunged as deep as his fingers could go. Your inner walls spasmed briefly against him.

“What’s this, then?” Hitoshi chuckled. 

“Stop!” 

Far from it, your command made him want to do it more. Hitoshi pushed a third finger inside of you and pumped faster. With his free hand, Hitoshi stroked his cock. Your eyes widened with horror at how quickly he could get it up again.

“Don’t be surprised, little thing. You can’t comprehend what I am and what I can do. Or more importantly, what I’m going to do to you.”

Hitoshi jerked off while sitting on top of you, his balls against your breasts. His fingers filled your cunt and stretched you open. 

“I’m putting in another. Then after you come on four of my fingers, you get the honor of taking this cock.” 

You tried shaking your head, but invisible hands grabbed your hair and pulled. They kept your head still and forced you to watch Hitoshi stroke his own cock and come all over your chest. Again. 

He gave you no warning and very little prep. Hitoshi added that fourth finger. One or two satisfied you, but your pleasure wasn’t on Hitoshi’s mind. He wanted you to come while he stretched you painfully wide. He thrust in deep, almost hitting your cervix. Your cheeks burned a dark bloom at the sound of the wet squelches that your pussy made. Hitoshi pumped faster inside you just while he used his cock as a brush to smear more come on your chest. 

Your hips bucked against him; your knees locked in pain. Hitoshi tied your legs so far apart that they burned, but that didn’t stop him from shoving his fingers all the way in. Your head crashed against the pillow while everything below your neck writhed and shuddered. Hitoshi watched your eyes roll into your skull as you gushed around his fingers.  He waited until your body stopped humping him before pulling his fingers out. Fluid leaked out of your cunt where his fingers had prevented it from staining your bedsheets. 

You whimpered and begged as Hitoshi shifted down your body. He nestled himself between your spread legs. He swiped his fingers across his tongue, put them into his mouth, and sucked them clean. His head rolled back. He groaned from deep in his throat. 

“You taste like ambrosia. I’m going to enjoy fucking sense and humanity out of you.” 

There was no warning. No pleasantries. Hitoshi did what he wanted. He stroked the head of his cock against your clit then aligned himself with your slit. It took one thrust to be buried deep inside of you. His hands grabbed your hips and pulled your lower body close to him. He sank on his knees and pulled his cock out, then plunged it back in. Your legs were stretched to the point of pain, muscles screaming. Hitoshi ignored your pleas.

You screamed and moaned as his cock pounded you. Your insides were being battered by some unearthly creature that escaped a cursed mirror. There was nothing you could do to stop this. His cock was long and hard and reached deep to kiss your cervix over and over. Your walls clenched around him. Hitoshi poured unwanted pleasure into your body and made it sink into your bones. Your hips thrust in time with his; your body writhed like a snake beneath him.

“Tell me you’re mine. Tell me who you belong to. Say it!” Hitoshi drove himself harder into your quivering body.

Your toes curled until they ached. Every limb of your body was shaking with effort. 

“Y-you,” you cried aloud. 

“What’s my name?” Hitoshi slammed his hips down, and your body violently shuddered with each of these movements. 

“H-H-Hitoshi!” 

“Who is your master?”

“You are. You’re my master. P-Please fuck me, sir!”

“Good girl. You’ll be my new favorite pet in no time.”

The room sweltered. How could someone whose body felt so cold make you pant and sweat? Your body writhed against him. You wanted to touch him, feel him, be able to look at his cock plunging inside your cunt. With his supernatural powers, Hitoshi kept your head forward and your eyes glued on him. You couldn’t watch his cock enter, retreat, and return deep inside your walls again. Your thighs were slick with sweat and cum. 

More, more, more.

You needed more. Hitoshi smirked down at you while you slowly lost your mind. Your eyes became blank spaces as his control over you seeped deep into your mind. His essence filled you, just like he was going to do with his cum in just a second. Your walls fluttered and spasmed at his provocation. A light flickered in your eyes. Somewhere in your subconsciousness, you must be screaming with rage. Your body no longer belonged to you and at this moment, neither did your mind. It was mere child’s play for Hitoshi to reach inside and flip the switch. Your dulled eyes rolled into your skull again while your mouth opened wide, and your tongue lulled out. Drool dribbled down the sides of your mouth. He commanded your body to climax around his hard length. You obeyed. 

You gushed, spilling everything you had. There was so much of it that it dripped to your bedsheets and on Hitoshi’s thighs. The tight clenching of your walls was enough to push him towards his own climax. Hitoshi groaned like an animal as he spilled his cum into your womb. Rope after rope warmed your lower belly until it was seeping out of your body. Hitoshi pulled out with little regard for how much it hurt. He remained on his knees to marvel at his handiwork. 

You were covered in him. His white semen staining your skin and made it glisten. The light slowly returned to your eyes. He watched madness creep in as you realized just what happened to you.

Jiro knocked on your door three days later. She stood shocked at the sight of you in the doorway, appearing as you were. You’d grown a bit pale since the last time she saw you. Your neck and shoulders were covered in purple kiss marks. Bruises formed at your wrist that looked suspiciously like handprints. Dark circles hung under your eyes. 

“Y/N, what happened to you?”

“Oh, I met someone recently. Let’s just say he’s really ‘fun.’” The words felt so unnatural coming out of your mouth—both to Jiro and yourself.

“Fun, you say?” Jiro looked at you up and down, unconvinced. 

Hitoshi appeared behind you. He wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed the side of your neck. 

“I’m sorry, but we’re awfully busy right now,” he said. Hitoshi began to close the door on your friend. “Call back some other time.”

Jiro stood on your porch, dumbfounded. 

It couldn’t be, could it? She thought.

She saw it with her own two eyes but didn’t want to believe it to be true. Those eyes which stared through the mirror were the same ones that looked at her with disdain just now. The thing in the mirror was loose.

[manawhaat]

Howl

Title: Howl

Characters: Alpha!John x Omega!Reader, previous Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam, Jody Mills.

Summary: After spending twelve-hundred years in hell, John Winchester is spit out and lands on The Bunker’s doorstep while you’re away on a case. Sam and Dean insist you stay away until they can help him let go of the Alpha inside him and become human again. But when the bunker unexpectedly locks down the day you return home, you find yourself trapped inside with an Alpha who’s more monster than man.

Prompts: (This fic covers 3 challenges.)

@flamencodiva​ 1700 challenge - “I’ve been waiting a long time for you.”

@firefly-in-darkness​ summer-challenge - Limerence – the state of being infatuated with another person

@wi-deangirl77​ Supernatural Schitt Challenge -  “Let’s not ruin a meal by talking about the process.”

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, slight angst, dub-con, fear kink, scent kink, blood/minor blood play, hunter/prey dynamics, extreme pining, heat sickness, allusions to stalking, creepy!John, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, biting/scratching, claiming/knotting, breeding kink, true mates, cum play.  

Word Count: 7.3k (not even a little bit sorry)

A/N: Huge, huge, HUGE thank you to @mrswhozeewhatsis​​ for helping me make this what it is. You seriously elevate every single story you touch. Hell, you elevate EVERYTHING you touch! @sebbytrash​​ and @sherrybaby14​​ also did kickass jobs betaing. I had a rough idea about this for a bit before I started to develop it and as soon as I started actually writing, I ended up signing up for a couple challenges, so this fic kills three challenges with one alpha. I liked a lot of quotes in Vanessa’s challenge so there’s actually 4 of them in here even though I only signed up for the one.

Lemme know if you like it, and maybe support my writing❤️❤️

“What do you mean John is back?” 

Jody stops in her tracks and her face is a mirror image of yours, so you switch Sam to speaker and hold the phone between you and her. 

“He’s back, Y/n.” Sam sighs, voice strained with exhaustion and confusion. “It’s him. He’s not missing a soul or anything but, uhh, he’s… different.”

“Different how?” A million things are running through your brain and you can only imagine what the boys must be thinking. 

Shuffling fills your ear, quickly followed by the heavy creak of the bunker’s front door. His voice is quiet when he answers. “He was down there for a long time. It’s like it warped him. He’s-” Sam pauses, searching for the right word before landing on- “feral.”

Jody’s eyebrows shoot up and she clarifies, “Feral?”

Sam huffs. “Yeah. I mean, he’s only been back for a couple of days but the more we watch him and talk to him it’s like he’s more Alpha than human. Jody, I know you guys wrapped up your case but would it be okay if Y/n stayed with you for a bit?”

“I’m a big girl, Sam,” you scoff. “I dealt with your soulless ass and Dean as an actual fucking demon. I can handle a little more testosterone than normal.” 

“No.” The voice belongs to Dean. “I’m serious, Y/n. This isn’t like me or Sam in a rut. He was down there for twelve-hundred years. He’s stronger than before he went down there and he’s not himself. Hell really did a number on him. There are some serious red flags here, sweetheart. He’s dangerous, and if something were to happen I’m not sure that we’d be able to protect you.” 

“Jesus” Jody breathes. 

The length of time put into words makes your stomach churn. The idea of anyone, anything spending so long in hell only to resurface is more than enough to send shivers up your spine.

“We’re not trying to get rid of you. We just need some time to figure things out. He’s barely-” Sam’s voice cracks- “he’s barely human, Y/n. Just give us enough time to make sure you’ll be safe around him, okay?”

Your eyes meet Jody’s and she shoots you a look that says you should listen to them. Making the guys go through this alone fucking sucks, but you trust them. “Okay, okay. I’ll keep my distance. But please keep me updated and let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” 

Sam and Dean sigh in relief. “We will. Thanks, sweetheart. We’ll talk soon.” 

The guys keep you up to date and a little over a month has passed when you start to feel you’ve overstayed your welcome at Jody’s. You all decide it's time for you to come home and you’re off the following morning. 

The drive is long but pleasant and the sight of the bunker looming in the distance is a comfort as you draw near. The iron door swings open and your friends emerge with smiles on their faces, waiting for you to park and get out before crowding you at once. 

As they approach, you pick something on the breeze that you’ve never smelled before. Sam pulls you in and the warm spice wafting in the air makes you press your body into his, a little too close, too intimately. He rumbles out a laugh and you just purr in response, letting him feel the heave of your chest against his. It’s only when Dean practically peels you away from his brother that you let yourself moan into Dean’s neck, running your fingers through the back of his hair to pull him closer and get a better whiff. 

“God, you guys smell so fucking good,” you admit. 

Sam’s brows furrow and he asks if you’re due for a heat. 

“Nope. I’ve been taking my pills… Maybe I just missed you guys!” You wink and Dean squeezes your sides, but you playfully slap him away with a broad smile. “Actually, the gift you want is in the trunk. Let me take this stuff in and I’ll come back and help you with the rest,” you promise. “Oh, and where’s John?”

“Went for a walk. He’ll be back in a bit and we’ll introduce you then.” 

They rush off to your car while you head inside. The creaky slam behind you is followed by the alarmingly loud clacks and clunks of multiple locks setting into place, the sounds enough to set you on high alert. The lights don’t kick off, so you’re sure the bunker isn’t in full lock down, but before you can investigate the locked door you’re suddenly struck with the scent that you smelled on them outside, It sends a cramp through your belly and you take a deep breath to combat it, almost tasting the air until you’re interrupted when your phone rings. Dean’s face pops up on your screen and you answer the call to hear his voice, light and playful.

“Hey, what the hell? Open up. I know you’re excited to be home, but c’mon. We live here too,” Dean says, half laughing. 

When you try the handle, it’s stuck in place. “It’s locked from the inside. I didn’t even touch it.” 

“Son of a bitch.” 

You stay on the line with him while they try their key from the outside. It doesn’t work and when they point you to the manual lever along the wall, it doesn’t budge. You can’t find any external locks to try on your side so you head down to the war room to try the mechanical system override. 

A wave of dizziness washes over you when your foot hits the bunker floor off the bottom of the staircase, but you steel yourself and search the room for what you’re looking for. As if fate is against you, the search is aborted by the wash of a fever flooding your body. 

It only takes a minute or two, but emotions and hormones slam through you at an alarming rate. Your heart and brain race as your body temperature kicks up a few degrees. 

No, no, no. I’m taking suppressants. This can’t be happening. How is this happening so fast? 

Sam and Dean are audibly yelling outside and through your phone, bickering about how to get into the bunker and that they should have known you’d go into heat upon returning to the smell of them. But their worried voices are muffled by a fog that comes over you, and somewhere in the bunker there’s a low growl that has your ears perking up. The sound is so faint you’re not sure it’s even real, until it comes again. 

Your blood runs cold and you grip the phone tight in your hand, eyes wide as you look into the dark expanse of the bunker. “Guys… I think I just heard something.” 

Their efforts to break down the front door stop cold. “What did you hear?”

Just then, the growl comes again and sends shivers up your spine. It’s the voice of a predator somewhere in the depths of the bunker you’re trapped in. 

“I- I don’t think I’m alone in here.”

The fever and pain in your lower belly spike again and you’re almost crippled by the scent in the air. It’s faint but your body would know it anywhere, and before you can think about it you’re thrust into a strong and sudden heat that has you boiling and worried. Fresh slick gushes through your core, leaking into your underwear as you moan lewdly, clinging to the wall for support. 

“Oh, fuck. Alpha!” 

The phone remains loosely held in your grip but it’s dropped to your side as you rush through the halls, completely oblivious to Dean calling your name and warning you to stay where you are. 

Every step you take has your body buzzing harder and harder. The sounds have stopped but the scent is getting stronger. Your mouth is dry with need and your body is almost reaching its peak just on the pulse of sheer power you’re being drawn in by. 

The door to the dungeon is in front of you when your feet finally stop. Part of you registers that you’ve moved through the entire bunker in a matter of seconds, and wants you to stop and think about that for a minute, but the energy surging through your blood urges you to reach out and open the door. 

“Don’t open that door!”

The voice booms through your skull, echoes off the bunker walls, shocks you, and fills your body with cold dread. Flinching back in surprise, your back hits the wall and you suddenly remember Dean on the phone. He’s rambling, but you cut him off with worry and lust fighting for dominance in your heart. 

“Dean, I can feel him,” you admit, not even realizing it until after the words have echoed back at you in Dean’s voice.

“Don’t go in that room,” he warns. Commands. Your inner omega should be cowering. That’s twice you’ve been told and yet your body is quickly starting to think those words are more of a dare than a warning.

“It’s him, isn’t it? It’s John.”

A groan slithers through the cracks of the door at the sound of his name on your tongue and you know you’re right. 

“He must have gotten back without us noticing. He’s dangerous, Y/n. Do not go into that room. Come back and help us find a way to get you outta there before you get hurt!” 

You register the guys talking to you, yelling at you, warning you and begging you, but your body is moving on its own accord. 

“Omega, stop!” John barks at you from the dungeon and you whine with need, sinking to your knees and taking in shaky breaths. 

Sam’s voice catches your attention and you hear him in the middle of his sentence. “...away from there. Go to your room, take another suppressant and use your toys to calm down. Please don’t argue. If you’re going into heat then you need to leave right now. You aren’t safe there.” 

Picking yourself up off the ground, you shake your head and try to break the spell. They’ve kept you away for a reason and if the guys are this worried, you should probably try to listen to them. Four steps is all you manage to take before the pain in your lower belly becomes too much and you slump against the wall. Now that you’ve been this close to the caged alpha, your body won’t let you leave. 

“Guys,” you pant, sucking in ragged breaths to steel yourself from the pain. You take another two steps and collapse, screaming in agony as your nerves shred themselves, ripping themselves apart trying to escape your body and get closer to John. 

Chains rattle, metal scrapes in the dungeon, and the snarls that burst from John’s chest have Sam and Dean calling for you through the phone. You grip it tight, crawl back down the hall, and sigh in relief as you give your body what it wants and the pain eases. When you settle against the wall across the hallway, the distressed sounds behind the dungeon door calm. 

“I can’t.” 

Hot tears prick at your eyes as you stare at that door in horror and need. You’ve hated being a weak omega with little to no say over your own life since the day you presented, and now what little control you’ve managed to find (with the help of the brothers) is slipping through your fingers. You don’t want this, but you are completely and utterly unable to deny it.

“I can’t leave. I need him.” 

Soft sobs are the last thing the boys hear tumble from your mouth before you hang up and toss the phone away. 

If you can’t leave, you’re gonna stay and do everything you can to listen to the men in your life. So you tear open your jeans and stuff your hands inside, desperate to quell the throbbing between your legs and gain back some semblance of control over your body.

On instinct, your mind goes to Dean. He’s been exactly who you needed him to be and he’s never let you down. Every touch serves a purpose, and his skill always afforded you the luxury of being in expert hands. But here and now, the more you think about him, the less you can remember; not the feel of his fingers inside you, let alone the taste of his tongue or girth of his knot when it’s locked you together. 

A cry of Dean’s name fills the air, as if calling out to him will magically bring him to you. Will restore the memory and give you the headway you need. But Dean’s pushed out of your mind and before you realize, the images that fill your brain are of the man behind the door. Photos you’ve seen in passing over the years in Sam and Dean’s rooms and journals. The memories are a little fuzzy, but you have enough of the mental image to piece him together. Broad shoulders, thick neck, long legs, and strong hands. 

Choking on desire, you’re frozen still and silent, pussy fluttering wetly around two fingers. An angry rattle of chains meets your ears on the other side of the door and you push your fingers through your folds for him, for the alpha you’ve yet to meet. The stranger that’s sent you tumbling down into this overwhelming heat. 

“I can smell what you’re doin’ sweetheart,” he says through the door, and you hear him inhale long and slow; you know that he’s savoring the smell of your dripping cunt. 

It’s enough to have you kicking off your pants and tearing off your shirt. The air around you is sweltering and your clothes are already soaked with sweat and slick. Your panties are wet against the back of your hand as you fuck yourself dizzy, try desperately to run from that pain and the overwhelming inevitable that’s flaring in your blood the longer you sit outside the dungeon. 

Unbearable pain vibrates through your cells as you reach an almost orgasm. Everything is a blur and your tongue is heavy and dry in your mouth. You’re slowly suffocating and going blind, burning and dying. Heat sickness has always been a myth in your mind, but now you’re feeling it and you cry out in fear and frustration, worried that this might just be how you die. As if he can hear your thoughts, as if he can feel you growing weaker with every passing minute, your alpha rages and a roar booms through the bunker. It’s not anger or lust, but fear, and it matches your own.  

You muster your strength and bravery, crawl across the hall and finally push open the dungeon door. Heat spills from the room and it’s musty with the pheromones he’s putting in the air, the sweat on his skin, and the need in his blood. 

Wrenching back the shelves, you meet John Winchester face to face for the first time. He’s sitting in the middle of the dungeon in jeans and a flannel shirt. It’s buttoned over a black t-shirt and his sleeves are rolled enough for you to see the raised veins on his forearms. Chains and rope surround his body, strapping him tightly to the iron chair in the center of the room.

As you step closer, your initial analysis of his bindings is wrong. The padlock is near his right hand, the knots of rope at his hands are sloppy, and the chains on his upper body give him enough room to move a little against them. The only one that’s really secure is the padlocked chain collar around his neck.

“Like my handiwork?” he asks as you eye him. “Tied the knots and wrapped these chains, myself… but these won’t hold. I don’t want to hurt you, but I won’t be able to stop when I get out. And I will get out.” 

John shifts against the bindings as you step closer, bares his teeth to reveal elongated canines that make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The veins in his neck are clear and visible, blood pumping through them hard and fast, and his teeth bite into his lower lip when you step into the devil’s trap.  

Drops of blood spill out of his mouth and a shudder wracks through you- he’s hurting himself in his effort to stay still- but you can’t control yourself. You’re too far gone now that you’re this close. 

“I need you, John. Need your knot. Need you inside me. I’m yours and you’re mine.”

The words are the first you’ve spoken to him and they surprise you both. John hardens himself, slams his eyes shut and strains in this seat, holding himself as far away from you as possible until you rip your underwear off your body as a show of your desperation. 

The scent of your soaked pussy makes his blood boil and a roar builds deep in his chest to explode out of his mouth. His body writhes with the force of it but in a flash the powerful sound turns into a menacing cackle. Wild eyes widen up at you and his blood-stained teeth have your full attention when his tongue tracks over them. 

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re gonna taste so good.” His hands grip at the arms of the chair, thick, sharp claws dig into the wood enough for it to splinter. “I’m gonna tear you apart,” he laughs, full bodied, crows feet at his eyes, mouth split wide open on his face. 

Part of you doesn’t want to believe him. There’s a throb in your core that calls out for him, that yearns to feel his lips and skin against yours. Slick pools between your legs and John sucks in a long, harsh, deep breath, pupils expanding as he savors your scent. 

“You think this is a game, baby girl?” Your pussy flutters at his words, even as his demeanor darkens further. “You’re gonna bleed, just like all those people on my rack in hell. Gonna sink my claws into you, see where you rip and where you hold up, see how hard I have to bite to get you to beg me to stop. Gonna break your bones and give it to you harder when that little omega pussy is busted open and bleeding around me. Stick around, send me into this rut and you’ll be wishing you never set foot in this bunker. That’s a fuckin’ promise.”

The thought of being torn apart is that of nightmares. Dean had rough ruts after hell, but he was right: John is dangerous. Every rational thought in your brain is telling you to run, to find a way back to Dean, but there’s an electricity in the air that tugs your ions closer to his. 

His eyes are dark and stormy, the muddy wash bordering on red, and salt and pepper spread through his dark hair and the beard clinging to his strong jaw. Tentatively, your hands reach out for him and he hisses, jumps at you with dripping teeth and dark eyes, guttural sounds tearing from his throat as he struggles to get to you. 

In an effort to sate your heat and keep your distance, a dizzying compromise lands at your feet. If you can take what you need from him, you might be able to gain the higher ground. If you give your heat what it wants fast enough, you can outrun him and gain control of your body again. Only half of your heart believes it, but you can’t stop yourself from easing into his lap to test the theory. 

Heat sears your crotch where you grind down onto him, rolls off of him in waves that leave you in a cold sweat. “Will you come to my funeral, John? Will you watch me burn to a pile of ash on a shitty pyre? Because you’re gonna have to if I don’t do this… if you don’t knot me right fucking now.” 

“I might have to either way, darlin’,” he growls, the chain collar around his neck clunking and rattling with his effort to both get closer to you and keep away all at the same time. The blood on his lower lip forms into a fat drop, lingers on his skin like it doesn’t want to leave, and you watch it fall and land on your inner thigh where you’re straddling him.

Even with his dark promises, your hands hastily pluck apart the buttons of his jeans and pull the material down to reveal a thick shaft surrounded by dark hair. He’s rock hard in your hands and before you can waste any more time your pussy is stretched open around him, every inch of his throbbing cock stuffed inside your slick walls. 

You sigh contentedly as your heat settles, now that it has a taste of what it wants. Just having him inside you feels better than anything you’ve ever felt before, and a ragged howl escapes his throat at the rough slams of your hips down into his when you finally start to move. 

Everything stands still while you take what you need from the alpha beneath you, claim him as your own with high pitched whimpers of his name, giving in to your most primal instincts. Every thrust has the two of you reeling toward the edge of bliss embarrassingly fast, and you grip his hair to force his eyes to yours when you’re close. 

“Watch me, John. Watch me cum for you.”

Your efforts double, you slam your mouth into his, taste him for the first time, and cry out against his lips as the tingle of your orgasm spreads through your belly and explodes through you. The feel of you coming around him pushes John past the point of no return and into his rut. He’s tried to hold back, tried to tame the animal inside and protect you the way a good alpha should, but each buck of your hips has him barreling into a rut that you can smell, stifling and hot with a hint of sulfur, while you tremble in his lap and ride out your pleasure.

John’s eyes change- swirl from deep brown into an onyx wash that clears into a deep red that mirrors the emergency lights of the bunker. His body shakes and spikes another ten degrees in an instant and when you’re sure he’s about to actually catch on fire, an electric pulse consumes him, and then you. The surge shoots out of your bodies and the bunker lights flash with loud sparking pops before instant darkness falls through the bunker. 

The red emergency lights and bright white flood lights kick a moment later, just in time for you to see John’s muscles tensing as he pulls at the chains he’s wrapped in, his rut taking him to full power. They groan and creak, and it’s when one snaps with a loud rattle that you realize the true strength of him. 

“Oh my god.” You cower in awe, hormones no longer fuzzing your brain, before scrambling out of his lap. However, you’re not quite quick enough to facilitate your escape. 

“You’re mine.” 

A thick arm wraps around your back, and you shriek at the sharp sting of his claws on your hip. His one-handed attempt to keep you there with him draws blood, and you desperately wriggle out of his hold and off of his lap before rushing off into the bunker. 

Two hallways pass by your sides before the clamor of breaking chain and splintering wood rattles into the bunker and stops you in your tracks. The wolf in him cries out for you, and a primal part of you is desperate to howl back. An eerie silence follows, sinks in bone deep, and you clap a hand over your mouth to stay quiet when you start moving again. 

You don’t get very far before you walk into a brick wall of his scent, tumbling further under a tall, crashing wave of heat trying to drag you down to the depths of a hellfire made of a Winchester. The scent of the alpha radiates strong and insistent, and the door shuts quietly behind you as you slip inside, eyes keenly observing your room drenched in John’s scent.

At first glance, you see no differences, but the weight of the air tells you to look closer, and when you do you find that everything in your room is slightly off; as if all of your personal possessions have been picked through but weren’t put back into their rightful place. 

The sheets on the bed have clearly been slept in and a pair of your underwear on the ground catch your eye. The soft pink material is moist when you pick them up and the smell that wafts up from them is unmistakable.They fall to the ground without a sound and you shakily wipe John’s cum off of your hands onto your sheets with a grimace of repulsion. How many times had he used your clothes for his pleasure? How many times had he laid in your bed, eyed the photos of your long gone family and defiled your intimacy?  

John hadn’t even met you, yet, but from the time the boys brought him home he’s picked you open and left you exposed, vulnerable, and violated. He’s been living in the walls of your home, spending his nights in your bed just waiting for his moment to strike. The thought leaves your legs weak beneath you and you suddenly can’t breathe.  

Bursting out of your room, you cling to the walls for support, searing pressure building in your lower belly as you move. If you’re in pain, you must be getting farther away from him. The hope in that thought is enough to stifle the pain and you’re crawling toward the library when your name is howled out into the bunker. 

“Alpha,” you moan back against your own will, hands clapping over your mouth in an effort to stop the sound that’s already made its escape. 

Two steps forward, five steps back. 

Soft shuffling off in the distance switches directions and you know that John heard you call out for him. Panic bubbles in your blood and you battle pain, confusion, and need as you turn left toward your imminent escape path, eyes cast behind you in apprehension. You make it less than halfway down the long hall before you turn your eyes forward, finally sure that you’re on the path to freedom. 

Stopping in your tracks, you stare in horror at the dead end before you. In your panic, you realize that you were supposed to turn right to get out, and you’ve just sealed your fate with one wrong turn. 

Adrenaline and defeat kick around in your body and you know he’s going to find you. On cue, your body grows warmer, slicker and needier for him, and an electric crackle fills the air, telling you he’s getting close. He knows your scent too well and though you can’t see him, you’ve already been caught. Running will only make you weaker, so your stand still, waiting for the inevitable. 

Soft shuffling has your ears pricking up at attention and your heart stops when you finally muster the gall to turn around and face your fate. John’s looming at the end of the hall, standing stock still just long enough for your pussy to leak and flutter for him. It’s that reaction that has him barreling down the hall on all fours like an animal, red eyes gleaming, claws scraping at the floor. He’s the most feral, lethal predator you’ve ever seen and this is what Sam and Dean warned you about. This is how you’ll meet your end- throat torn out by this hell sent Alpha with a cursed last name.

The child in your soul is the first to react, and your hands fly to cover your eyes. Maybe if you squeeze them shut tight hard enough you’ll wake up from this bad dream. Maybe you’ll be able to crawl back into your mother’s bed and find safety in her arms instead of death in John’s.

Your palms press painfully hard against your eyelids while you wait for the hit that never comes. What feels like years pass without a sound, and when you finally let your hands fall from your eyes all you can see is John’s mouth, the tension at the corners where he’s trying to restrain the snarl, white teeth practically dripping. 

Body trembling and petrified at the way you pine for him, this wild stranger in front of you, your feet take a step closer to him without your permission. When your chest presses to his, the tears finally roll down your cheek and his mouth slams into yours. He hauls you up off the ground and your legs wrap around his waist before you’re slammed against the wall. All it takes is a slight shift of his hips and he’s inside of you again, splitting you open and swallowing your cries. He spins and a door breaks against the bottom of his boot a few seconds later, clattering to the floor while he lays you down on the bed and fucks an orgasm out of you with splinters still in your hair. 

The orgasm hits hard and you’re still writhing in pleasure when John pulls out, shoves you up the bed, and pushes his mouth as far between your legs as it can go. He’s only just begun, but you’ve never been touched this way- this profound or this intensely. If you weren’t still in a blur, you’d be wondering how long John’s waited to worship someone like this. 

Every lungful of air you’re able to suck in sticks heavy in your chest and throat. There’s a weight to the room that feels like you’re on another planet. In another dimension. All you can manage are gasps and moans and you finally splutter out ‘how?!’ because your brain literally cannot understand it. How can this feel so good? How can this possibly feel so right? How does he fit here so well? 

He grins up at you, fire in his wild gleaming eyes when he growls, “Let’s not ruin a meal by talking about the process.” 

As he devours you, takes you apart piece by piece, his lust-blown eyes shine up at you. They hold a lifetime of secrets and your body steals any semblance of control you might have been holding onto, bucks up into his mouth, pushes itself into his hands. 

John holds you like you’re the most important thing he’s ever beheld. His infatuation and reverence sparks an epiphany. The monster between your legs isn’t donning a mask. John is a mirror, clear and revealing, exposing a part of you that you never knew you had before.

You moan his name, voice hard and eager to please. Eager to be pleased, filled, fucked ten ways to Sunday. You want John to ruin you, split you open with that cock and make you a ragged shell for nothing but pleasure and pups. The more he takes of you the more you want him; and the more you give in, the less afraid you are--of him and of your own desire.

John fucks you raw and hard like an animal, bruises your wrists and sinks his teeth into your body, breaking the skin here and there, licks and sucks marks between the bites he has no control over. What started as worship turns to chaos, and true to his word, he doesn’t relent, not even when you’re begging for mercy. Claws leave raised welts and lines of blood over your body as he digs his hands into your flesh, pushes and pulls you where he wants you, handling you like a rag doll for his pleasure.

The sheets beneath you are bloody and somewhere in his frenzied mating you feel yourself tearing around him in a sharp sting. A moment later, your inner thighs are wet with blood and slick and the wet squelch only has him bucking into you deeper and faster. Salty tears run down your cheeks as you cry out, but John ignores them and suffocates you beneath him. His claws scratch at your skin when he wraps a hand around your neck and grunts into your ear. 

“Right here, Y/n. That’s where my mark is going. You ready for it?” 

The question goes unanswered; all you can manage are strangled groans of ‘alpha’ and sobs of pain and fear before his pace speeds up. His knot throbs inside of you, stretches your walls that much more, and he pulls back enough to look down at you. 

Tears litter your cheeks and you’re flushed, wrecked, and battered under his hands. John drives in deep with a smile on his mouth, savors the way you wince in pain at the feel of him slamming against your cervix like he’s trying to fuck your womb. 

Long canines bite down hard where your neck and shoulder meet as John slams into you one final time. The red floodlights bathing the scene flicker and surge as your energies peak. His knot pops deep inside, painfully thick, locking him in place as he cums with a roaring howl that matches your own. The sound is guttural, primal, filled with pleasure and pain, and loud enough for Sam and Dean to hear from outside. 

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

An hour after he’s claimed you and his knot has popped inside of you, you lay in his arms, unsure of everything other than the fact that you belong there. That John belongs inside of you, pressed deep and eternal. Every bit of your body hurts and his hands smooth over you, gentler than you even think possible, like a monster soothing a lamb before the slaughter. The white gleam of the flood lights in the hall outside illuminate the side of his face when he smiles softly down at you, his teeth and hands still stained with your blood. 

Fear has a hold on you, hasn’t fully let you go yet. John is a stranger to you but here you are, clinging to his warm chest, body and soul marked as his in every way, forever. There’s a depth to his mossy brown eyes that reminds you of the men on the outside. Of Dean. The alpha who’s cared for you in the past, taken you in, and given you a home and family to love like your own. 

It seems a lifetime ago since you were in this same position with Dean. From the first time you met, every heat and rut you went through, you went through together. The memories of how he used to kiss you, soft and comforting, and tell you cute jokes while his knot deflated send flickering warmth through your heart. But all too quickly, the happy memory is followed by a pang of hurt shooting through you. 

Like magnets, you were drawn to each other, but Dean never claimed you because deep down you both knew that you weren’t his to have. Now, with John’s mark on your neck, heats and ruts with Dean are gone and you can’t help but wonder what the future will hold. If every heat and rut will feel like this one, or if you might be lucky enough to get a glimpse of the caring, playful alpha of your past. Tears roll down your cheeks and your mouth quivers at the thought of living with such brutality. 

“You have his eyes,” you finally say, unable to keep the thought of Dean to yourself any longer. His brow furrows and you clear your throat. “Dean’s eyes.” He doesn’t respond, just levels you with a look you can’t place. “Well, I guess he has yours.” 

A hasty kiss cuts off any other thoughts and you give in, letting that mouth soothe you in all the ways you know it can’t...shouldn’t. Not right now. Not yet. Not when you’re still reeling with fear and confusion and the crackling flame of your heat casting grim shadows through your future.  

“I know,” he coos, his gravelly voice wrecked with emotions you’re both trying to come to terms with. “This isn’t the way it’s supposed to happen. Not me meeting you, and definitely not this….” 

John’s long fingers swipe over his claim on your neck, retreating at the small wince of pain he earns from you. Guilt worms into his chest and he holds you there, mouth just a kiss away from his. 

He knows the answer but asks anyway. “Are you scared of me?”

You nod, shy but honest. “Yes.”

John hisses in disappointment, at himself and at you. How could you not love him the way he loves you? The way he’s loved you since he set foot in here and smelled you lingering in the air. He felt you wrap yourself around him when he paced the halls at night; slept in your bed to know you just a little more. He’s been obsessed with the ghost of you, and now you’re his. 

“I’ve been waiting a long time for you,” he admits, and your heart flutters, caught off guard by the meaning behind it. “Always thought it was Mary, but the second I walked in here, I knew. It was you.” 

“I don’t want this,” your mouth spits out before you can stop it, before you can realize that you’re lying to his face. 

John grins, gummy and wide, strikes fear in you with his irrefutable confidence but pulls you closer and speaks against your lips. “I knew, Y/n. Smelled this omega pussy every time I walked by your room. Didn’t say anything to the boys about it- didn’t wanna upset them- but I knew you before they even told me your name or that they had my omega here just waiting for me to come and claim her.” His hands stroke your cheeks and those eyes bore into you and unhinge you with the kind of care that only someone truly out of control can conjure. 

“I could feel your energy when I touched your things, could smell this hot cunt on your laundry.” He inhales, the action crude and obscene. “Sleep didn’t come so easy, but the second I laid down in here it was like I could feel you pressing yourself up against me. I knew you and had you every night, so when I smelled you come through the door I knew I had to lock myself up or this would happen.” A chuckle escapes his lips. “Well, guess it was meant to happen, huh?” 

Even with his claim on your neck, you can’t do anything other than gape at him. You’re mortified and enthralled by his words, and secretly long for freedom from his overwhelming intensity. 

He shifts a little so you can feel his knot inside you and coos gently at the anxious whimper you let out. Gathering you closer to him, John feels your heart race against his. As if his touch is all you need, the exhaustion of the day starts to drag you down and there’s blood on his tongue when he kisses you goodnight.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve gotcha.” 

Those are the last words you hear before tumbling into a dark and dizzying sleep. 

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

When you wake, it’s to the feel of thick fingers splaying you open, rubbing your swollen labia and massaging your inner thighs. Time is lost in the bunker and in your heat. It could be twenty minutes or a year later and your body wouldn't be able to tell the difference. Not when broad shoulders have your thighs pushed apart, the contented sigh on your lips turning harsh at the slick drag of John’s tongue. 

He licks over you, parts your folds to find your clit, then sucks hard and makes his way down to your fucked-out slit. The wet, thick squish of his old cum seeping out of you vanishes when John forces his tongue inside to scoop it out and swallow it down. Shuddering violently against it, you fist his hair and kick off the blankets to finally look down at him. His eyes are red and your fever is raging again.

“My boys ever do this? Eat their cum from your little omega pussy?” he asks. It’s dirty and fucked up, wrong on so many levels, but he’s got a gleam in those treacherous eyes and you moan back against your better judgment. 

“Don’t… keep it in me.” 

Pride overwhelms him and his teeth dent his lower lip as he grins up at you. “Okay, sweetheart-” he sinks his fangs lightly into your flesh, holds it for a second and then gives you the painful satisfaction of breaking the skin- “yeah, let’s keep it in you. Make sure we get some pups in this gorgeous belly.”

Mewling in agreement, he releases his bite on your inner thigh and stalks back over you. Eager to feel him inside of you again, you pull at him and whimper his name so needy and so sweet that he sinks into you while he’s still soft. He’s pliant and warm as he pushes his old cum back into you, until he’s as deep as he can go, blunt tip squished up against your cervix. John’s right back where he belongs, and you can’t help but whimper at the small amount of lost cum that seeps out around him. As if he knows what you’re thinking, he licks at your lips, lets you taste his seed on his tongue and assures you in that midnight-dark voice the way only a stranger, only a soulmate, can. 

“Don’t worry, omega. Your heat’s not done yet, and I’ve only just started my rut. We’ll get another load in here, soon enough. You’re gonna be so full of me and my pups.” He kisses your jaw. “All round.” Fingers squeeze at your tender breasts. “So beautiful,” he grunts, thrusting up enough for you to wince at the tight pinch of him so deep. 

His mouth follows a pre-marked path down to the fresh marks on your neck -- the one bite on your body that actually means anything -- and his long, sharp fangs reopen his mark and sink down further into your flesh to solidify his claim. The power of his bite aches deep into the muscle and blood seeps out of the corners of his mouth. Sucking and licking your claim, John bites you over and over, deeper each time. All you can do is gasp and groan beneath him in pain and arousal, fingers raising blood on his back as you scratch a path down to his ass to pull him in closer. Trying to fuse your body and his in any way possible, to share breaths and blood if you can, even if it’s only through your warm needy mouths.  

“Those boys aren’t getting to you any time soon, Y/n. I don’t think this place is gonna let anyone in or out until I’m done with you.” His hand wraps around your neck, pushes high to grip the edge of your jaw, and the pinch of his fingers against the bone lures a hiss from deep within you. “You’re mine, understand?” 

You nod as best you can, eyes fluttering shut as he grows harder inside you and hotter against you with another flare of his rut. There isn’t anything in the world that could take this from you. You don’t know John, especially this dark version of him spat out of hell, but you’re his and he’s yours. True mates. And you’re convinced that the strong current that vibrates between you will keep you locked in here with him until your heat and his rut have died off.

“All fucking mine,” he says as he pulls you closer, the promise raw and real, and you’ll follow this monster anywhere. 

Even to your death. 

[ichayalovesyou]

Why Does God Need A Starship? (Live Reaction):

I always thought Sybok was cool and interesting and NOW I’m sure! You know it’s times like these that I’m grateful I kinda came back into the Star Trek fandom on my own, because I don’t have to deal with Opinions of older/louder Trekkies. This one kinda has a lukewarm reputation but I’m getting the vibe that I’ll genuinely enjoy it.

Yet again Bones is serving up some LOOKS damn! Look at these elder gays! Spock has rocket boots, amazing. “Because it’s there” and then falling off the goddamn mountain is such a James Tiberius Kirk thing to do 😂 “HI BONES!” These guys omfg. OH MY GOD SO WE DO SEE CAITIANS OUTSIDE THE CARTOONS?? Hell yeah! Also pole dancing to no music, is... weird. Lmao. Also okay I’m sorry Sybok is cool! Sybok is cool and interesting and I really like him! (Not morally obviously dude is shady as all fuck, but a cool dude nontheless!) Always fascinated by Cult Leader type villains, especially when they point out valid criticisms about the society from which they came (important distinction is that the CAUSE is not vilified, but the person and their means, something M****l has largely forgotten)

Awww I may ship Hikura, but Uhura & Scotty are also cute as hell!! Awwwwwww!!!! Old married couples can be so freaking cute. Chekov & Sulu are LOST ohhhh my god this is hilarious, these two idiots. Also can we talk about how Koenig’s eyebrows are slowly gaining sentience and Takei aged like fine wine? Lol. THE HOLY TRINITY OF ELDER GAYS ARE CAMPINGGGG! I’m- oh my god they’re so cute. “Marshmelon” this is cute as hell oh my god. They’re indulging and messing with Spock at the same time I’m dead! They’re singing ohh my god this gonna give me cavities with how sweet it is!!!

This Klingon dude is frickin ROCKING the eyeliner! Bruhhhh was the frickin spotlight necessary! Leave the gays alone SHHHH they’re SLEEPING!! Lmao. Yo I’ll be real this movie starts incredibly slowly but I seriously do not mind, it’s relaxing to not have to worry about missing important details if you look away for a second, it’s nice. WAIT? Does Jim’s shirt say GOT MILK?!!? Oh no, it says go climb a rock, oh thank god [“fatty milkers” flashbacks]

Seriously McCoy is just radiating so much old southern lady/gay energy in this movie and I love it so freaking much “if you ask me (and you haven’t) this is a horrible idea” he sounds like my North Carolina living Meemaw. Wow you can see Spock low-key taking psychic damage from seeing Sybok 😲 V’tosh Ka’tur of the highest order huh? Still disturbing that his government literally cast him out, that’s a red flag 😬. What happened with Sybok is probably a lot of why Spock was pressured to be as Vulcan as he was, I’m sure Sybok was a massive scandal/shame for Sarek, and knowing him, he’d end up making that his kids’ problem not his 🙄

Oh neat!! Chekov is in the in the captain’s chair. Oh this is the song they replaced Nichols’s voice for 😤 but also GIRL THAT WAS BADASS AND THAT SONG WAS A BOP! Quick question, wow these “alien” horses are somehow even worse than the unicorn dog (also it’s a desert planet, wouldn’t it be better to have, like, alien camels or something?) This dude’s Klingon is freakin impeccable btw! He’s really got the vibe down! Jim did you forget how fuckin bananas strong Vulcans are??? Sybok went like 😡☹️ when Spock pointed that laser rifle at him 😂😂😂 again even tho I know Scotty and Uhura are married but it’s scenes like getting held hostage right there where they radiate such POWER COUPLE energy GAWD! 🤩

Stay out of this Bones we’re having a lover’s quarrel! Jim is taking fucking psychic damage from this entire conversation lol. Okayyyy whatever Sybok is doing is definitely some kind of mind control type thing, that shit is creepy af no thank youuuuuu (spores anyone?). Oh my god Spock & Jim are so married lmao, that “I’m sorry” Vulcan kiss in the brig man Aw. (Oh man Magic’s of mega-tsu got devani mixed by that comment lame!) SCOTTYYYYYY!! YAS!

Yay rocket boot glomp! Lmfao! Sybok needs to brush up on his earth history Columbus did NOT figure out the world is round 🙄 Ah Scotty being like “listen, you’re not okay rn so I’m not really down for whatever you think you wanna do right now it can wait until you’re right in the head again” and they could’ve not done that and it would’ve been creepy (especially by today’s standards) but they didn’t! And that was awesome!

Bones being skeptical and has every right to be! He’s faced down would be gods and would-be messiahs before! Also I’ve seen people judge Bones for being the first to cave but Sybok totally did that shit to him without consent! He didn’t go back on his beliefs, Sybok forced him to! BONES PROTECTION SQUAD IS HERE AND ITS ME! Oh Bones, man, poor babeyyyy (fuck Sybok!) 😭😭😭 OH MY GOD BONESSSSSS Sybok leave him alone! Goddamnit! Leave him alone!

I think Jim can see Spock’s Sybok induced vision cuz they’re ✨Bonded✨ (it didn’t seem like they could see Bones’s, other than what Bones was doing). JIM KNOWS SO MUCH BETTER! ITS HOW HE BEAT THE SPORES ITS HIS CORE! I UNDERSTAND AND LOVE HIM FOR IT!!! Spock 😍😍😍 he’s like, you’re bullshit happiness pill doesn’t work on me cuz I am whole for the first time in my life, and I love my husband, and I already learned my lesson decades ago 💚🖖🏻💚 (who knew how important the character development from This Side of Paradise AND Return To Tommorow would be??? Hell yeah!)

I love Scotty so much 🥰 hardcore badass Hufflepuff from beginning to end! Also I hope Sybok appears in SNW that could be really really interesting if they do it right! ITS GOD (derogatory) REVERE HIM! Oh here comes that legendary question!! “What dies God need with a starship?” Red flag don’t call Jim a creature! Oh shit god has laxer eyes oh no lmao! Bones snaps out of whatever Sybok did to him when “God” hurts his friends and we LOVE HIM FOR ITTTT! Awww Spock & Sybok and be saaaaad, oh shit! Into the lightning to fight a mirror of yourself like Lazarus in that one episode!

OH SHIT THE KLINGONS ARE HERE! Oh damn Spock just swore a cuss the right way, at a Klingon General no less! General dude just went “caotain tell Kirk you are sorry!” LMAO! NOT IN FRONT OF THE KLINGONS 😂😂😂😍 KISS DAMNIT!! God this whole after scene is so good, maybe the god is the friends we made along the way. “I lost a brother once” you also lost SAM dummy, I know you were just telling Spock you love him but still. SHUT UP SPOCK IS PLAYING ROW ROW ROW YOUR BOAT ON HIS LYRE??

Okay, seriously, I unironically love this movie, it might be my favorite out of the ones I’ve seen so far actually. TMP felt like the movies getting their sea legs, but it was slow and messy, it wasn’t as thought provoking as it wanted to be (aside from Spock’s wonderful arc in that film). WoK & TSFS are amazing for drama and angst and Spirk content, but they weren’t really asking the big questions Star Trek is wonderful for. Then The Voyage Home is just plain silly and fun and wholesome. But this, this movie had depth! The whole premise is “what is god and is there is one?” I LOVE that as someone who has a very complicated relationship with spirituality. I also already loved the TOS episodes This Side of Paradise, Return To Tomorrow, The Omega Glory and The Way To Eden, and this movie had the best of those concepts! Sybok was such a fascinating antagonist/anti-hero and I hope we get to see him explored more on screen one day, even if it’s just through Discovery/SNW flashbacks. It may have started off slow and it’s not without its flaws but this felt like the Star Trekkiest TOS Star Trek movie so far!

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

you’re so creepy | part ii | jjk ver

Every campus has one. You know - the resident campus creepy girl. This campus has seven. All from in the boys’ POV.

summary: Jungkook wants to see creepy vampire girl just one more time. Just to talk. About, uh... sorry, what was the question?

warnings: non-idol!BTS - university!BTS; 18+ for language; alcohol consumption; JK is confusion; maknae line nonsense (what is Jimin up to, hm?); Jungkook’s POV

--

part i

-

Weirdly enough, those girls bothered from less after that. It surprised him. If it was that easy to get rid of them, Jeon Jungkook would have kissed creepy vampire girl a lot earlier.

Well. Not really. Uh.

Jungkook stared at himself in the mirror, scrunching up his face. Did he really just think that? He straightened his black dress shirt and slung his leather jacket on. He thought he would see her at another party after that, but he hadn’t so far. It was a little depressing. Well, not depressing. That wasn’t the right word.

He tilted his head towards the ceiling, trying to think of the word but failing. He shrugged and waltzed out the door, grabbing his keys along the way. It wasn’t an easy mouth to forget. Dark lips, silver lip ring on the left, and fangs. When would he ever kiss a mouth with fangs ever again? Jungkook wished it had lasted a little longer. Just a little.

Wait, what?

“Earth to Jungkook.”

He blinked rapidly as Kim Taehyung poked him in the head. He was at the party now, chilling in the sofa with his two best friends. Park Jimin was texting rapidly on his phone, ignoring them. Jungkook frowned and rubbed the sore spot. “Sorry. What?”

“You okay, man? You haven’t even had a beer and you’re spaced out,” Taehyung remarked, handing him a cold, open bottle.

Jungkook took a sip. It wasn’t the worst thing. “I, uh, was thinking.”

Taehyung hummed. “Mmm-hmm…”

Jimin was turning red beside him. Jungkook tried to crane his head over to see the screen, but Jimin stood up suddenly, declaring he needed to go to the bathroom. Jungkook and Taehyung blinked at him as he robotically left them.

“What’s with him?” Jungkook wondered.

Taehyung shrugged. “Dunno.”

They sat there for a moment. Music, bodies, flashing lights. The same scene and the same guys chilling together (minus the one in the bathroom). Strangely, Taehyung and Jimin hadn’t teased him about the whole vampire kiss yet. That night, they gave him a thumbs up and continued as if everything was normal. It was bizarre. Jungkook thought for sure they were going to mess with him, but instead it seemed like they were satisfied for some reason. Which was odd, because they weren’t the ones who got kissed…

A wide-brimmed hat popped up in his peripheral vision.

Jungkook shot up and bolted after it. Was it? Smeared black eyeshadow, plum lipstick. The glint of a silver ring and pointed white teeth. He pushed his way into the crowd, ignoring Taehyung yelling after him.

“Yeah, okay, I wanted to be alone anyway!”

Taehyung rolled his eyes and nursed his beer ruefully.

“Excuse me, excuse me!”

Jungkook finally made his way to the patio. The black hat was perched on the railing, legs dangling over the wood. He recognized the body. His cheeks heated at the thought. Another fishnet shirt with a black corset under it. Black, ripped jeans and heeled ankle boots. A beer in one hand.

Shit, now that he was actually here, he completely forgot what he was going to say. She seemed to sense his presence and turned around, raising her eyebrows.

“Oh, ho. Laughing boy.” She tilted her beer at him. “Hey.”

Jungkook swallowed, taking a couple steps forward. “Er, hi.”

She twisted her body and thunked down onto the wood, pushing herself away from the railing. “How’s my little fledging? Still getting harassed by scary girlies?” She smirked, revealing one of her canines.

He cleared his throat. “Actually, uh… no. I haven’t really been harassed that much at all since…” He trailed off.

She tipped her hat and bowed exaggeratedly. “Proud to be of service.”

He gulped again. Her cleavage was very visible. She straightened, taking another swig of her beer. Her eyes seemed to see right through him. If there was anyone watching them, Jungkook wasn’t aware. He was only focused on those pointed canines and silver lip ring.

“Hey, uh…”

She lowered her beer, smiling at him. “Yeah?”

“Something has been bothering me.” He stared at the wood paneling of the deck, nervous.

She gestured with the bottle. “Go on.”

“Do you… really not think I’m hot?”

Silence. Jungkook looked up to see her trying to contain her laughter, until it burst from her in a low wheeze, cackling at his question. He blinked rapidly, unsure how to respond. She clamped her arms down on her stomach, laughing and laughing until it died out with short puffs. She wiped tears from her eyes, smile so big it made him smile despite it all.

“Dude… You’re something else,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “Common questions I get are, are you a vampire? When do they meet? Who’s your maker? Can you turn into a bat?” She waved a hand, licking her lip ring slowly. “But what does Jeon Jungkook want to know? If I think he’s hot or not.”

He scratched his face, suddenly sheepish. He must have sounded so stupid. She closed the distance between them, looking up at his face with mirth. Her dark cherry perfume invaded his senses. She cocked her chin at him, smirking wide.

“Yes, Jungkook. I think you’re hot.”

--

masterpost

[kpopmakesmequestionmylifechoices]

VERIVERY - Get Away | Weird details & connection to old MVs | MINCHAN IS THERE! | secret French message on cake!

They are observed by a strange flying sphere.

As in Tag Tag Tag MV, Kangmin tells us (?) to be silent, which still and again hints on him having a secret.

One of them runs through the forest and gets kidnapped, someone puts a bag over his head.

The person who kidnapped him wears this strange compass watch. | Minchan had a compass in Thunder and G.B.T.B, the compass always pointed to Kangmin |

In the tent we see all 6 boys, sitting around a round table, while being observed by the sphere.

Yongseung has a letter, it reads as follows (I'm leaving out some parts):

"My dear friends, we are confident that you remember us, for we have always been with you [...] we would like to present you a small gift [...] quaint but delectable meal [...] is your job to find the key to that party [...] a hint: Each possess a small point. [...] 7 will make a large point will open [...] able to enter [...] Merely imagining the glorious spectacle makes our blood tingle with excitement. We will be waiting for you.[...]"

It's signed with a name, I on the first look thought it means Viktor, but it's likely that the first two letters are a VR an the rest idk. Looks like a VRtoR to me, if anyone can decipher it pls comment.

After the letter is read, they round up in the forest. | As in G.B.T.B, the circle symbolism is strong in here |

Whatever now the "key" was, they apparently found it and could open a gate | that's when those forks appear ... But the forks ain't the keys are they hahahahaha |

They wake up in an empty room, but on beds. It's 7 beds, the one in the center is empty. | Minchan's bed? |

The gate is open now, a black hole in the ground, there's a red cloth floating over it/falling into it. | Minchan held a red cloth, the exact same, in G.B.T.B. In G.B.T.B he was about to drop the cloth but then tightly grabbed it so it couldn't fly away. Did he now lose it? Did G.B.T.B predict the future? Is Minchan the mastermind behind that all, and that's why he always knows the correct way by using the compass? |

Someone left his shoes there. If you compare it with pic 7, it's Kangmin's shoes. There's fog coming outta the shoes. | In Tag Tag Tag, Kangmin suddenly was barefoot and seemingly possessed by ? The evil? He left into the dark without his shoes, Minchan was the only one who noticed it, the one who watched him leave |

The freaking kidnapper (?) comes to the hole/gate, we don't see his face.

Hoyoung observes the members, INCLUDING himself (!) on a screen. | The CCTV symbolism from previous MVs and my beloved TV that appeared in almost each MV are back |

Note that there arguably are 2 different Hoyoungs. One that is with the other members, and the one who observes them. Observer-Hoyoung has another style, glitter in his face and blue eyes. | In Tag Tag Tag there actually were two Hoyoungs as well, one in a mirror world and one in the actual world. |

Observer-Hoyoung wears black gloves. The kidnapper wore black gloves as well (see pic 3 and 4).

For whatever reason Kangmin seems weak and Dongheon has to help him walking.

Dongheon wants to drink sth but ends up handing the glass over to Kangmin without taking a sip.

Kangmin attempts to drink Dongheon's drink, Yongseung for whatever reason watches him.

The cake has French writing on it, it says Tirez-moi de lá, which translates to "get me out of here". | Note: "lá" actually means "there", and usually you'd rather say "Tirez-moi d'ici", as "ici" means "here". Interestingly, photo MV already used the word "there" where you actually would have had to use "here"... |

Yongseung gets angry and destroys the cake. | There's some strange fog above the table, the same that came outta Kangmin's shoes |

We get to see the scene in style of a thermographic/infrared camera. I believe that's the point of view of the observer sphere.

Dongheon suddenly randomly appears with an apple. The lyrics of the song basically deal with an irresistible temptation, the apple always has been used as a symbol for temptation. But what tempts him?

They fall in some low-key delirious state in which they eat whatever they can find, almost animalistic. At some point some of them seem to lose interest, Gyeheon drops his fork, Yeonho pours wine (?) on the floor.

It's still observed in CCTV style, interestingly now not only by Hoyoung but ALL MEMBERS!!!

Kangmin enjoys himself a lot, but then wants to grab the srly weirdest food on the table: Toast. It seems totally out of place, next to all that fancy food.

Dongheon gets angry at that and rams a fork into the toast. The others watch the scene without really caring. | The entire scene seems to be about greed, in my eyes. Wouldn't that, alongside the apple, be a somewhat biblical reference tho? |

Following the fight over the ...toast..., Dongheon aggressively pushes Kangmin against some metal lattice/cages idk. After a weirdly sexually suggestive (???) almost kiss (???) he wants to stab Kangmin with the fork...

Now things however get complicated. The outfits changed. The Kangmin that ate the grapes wears another outfit than the Kangmin who wants the toast. Same with Dongheon and his apple. In the apple scene, he wore a different outfit than in the toast scene. The outfit in the toast scene and in the fight scene are the same. Arguably, it's the same clothing style like Observer-Hoyoung wore since beginning.

The newly clothed Dongheon now also fights with Gyeheon.

At the same time, members who wear the initial outfit, passed out and lie on the floor.

Newly clothed Dongheon wants to stab Gyeheon with his fork...There is a bathtub.

Observer-Hoyoung stops Dongheon (still new clothes) from killing Gyeheon. In the close-up one sees that Dongheon also has glitter on his face, like Observer-Hoyoung previously.

They all are in the CCTV room, watching how Dongheon (IN OLD OUTFIT HOWEVER) passes out.

The bathtub is in that CCTV room.

Everything hints on the existence of 2 different versions of each member. The clothes and room change might show us when we see the original members and when we see the low-key violent and corrupted members. | Note that the entire mirror world / 2 versions of the group have already been a theme in previous MVs, I wrote that down in a previous post |

CCTV members leave the...base. Everything suddenly seems very space-ish. A connection to G.B.T.B.?

The members in the old, simple outfits, are tied to chairs, sitting in a circle. The center chair, like previously the bed, is empty. Minchan's chair?

The CCTV members, wearing the fancy outfits, aim with guns at them.

Kangmin is the only member opening his eyes. When looking at his eyes thoroughly, one notices that his iris has a very strange pattern and a structure that one usually knows from screens.

A very short shot at the end shows a spiral-like way, literally spiraling down. The interesting thing however is that there's a person with a bag over his head, walking down that way without seeing anything, stretching his arms forward - arguably to find his way through touch because he literally can't see. That DEFINITELY is the member that was kidnapped in the very beginning. My assumption still is that the kidnapped person must be Kangmin. With the kidnapper I'm not sure, it might be Minchan (because compass and cloth) but could also be Hoyoung (because gloves and 1st observer). Maybe they even worked together?

Conclusion:

1. Ever since Tag Tag Tag sth is wrong with Kangmin, it seems that he's forever locked into some dark and lonely world and the others constantly try to reach to him but somehow don't manage to do so.

2. They definitely made sure to implement Minchan in the MV, even if only indirectly.

3. There again seems to be a good version of verivery and an evil version. Why ? What do they want ?

4. The letter is utterly creepy. It seems as if someone wants to play with them. To play a nasty and dangerous game, but I have no idea what the purpose it.

[let-it-raines]

Prompt: this was supposed to be a low key first date, but now I’ve gone and injured myself (hiking?) so will you please take me to the hospital?

on ao3 | here |

word count: ~ 4800

-/-

When Emma agreed to go on a date with David’s friend from the office, she figured it would be to a mediocre restaurant where the lighting was a little too dim and the price a little too expensive for the food that was a little too small. That’s how the past few of her dates have gone, besides the one guy who took her to McDonalds. She didn’t know what to think of that. At first, she thought it was a little weird, but she didn’t really mind since sometimes she does want to clog her arteries with their fries. Then, though, she found out that he was testing to see if she was “uptight” and she ended that. Anyone who tests a woman on a date, no matter their reasons, is an asshole.

She is tired of dealing with assholes.

A part of her thinks Killian Jones may be one.

She’s met him a few times, but it’s never been anything significant. It’s been a “hello” at a barbecue, a “how are you” as they pass at a bar, a nod from across the street when they happen to be in downtown Boston at the same time. That’s not exactly a small place, but they frequent the same bars because she goes where David goes and David goes where the rest of the financial advisors in his office go. So, they do end up around each other, and she’s observed him from afar. He nearly always has a smile on his face as he charms a woman, usually a tall brunette that looks a hell of a lot like Ruby, and she’s gathered that he’s funny enough to make them all laugh. That, or they all fake it because he’s attractive and makes good money and they want to get into his pants. If she saw him at a bar and had never heard of him before, she’d probably want the same.

But she’s not at a bar or at that classic mediocre restaurant. She’s waiting in her car in the parking lot of World’s End, a park outside the city where you can do anything from horseback riding to skiing to kayaking to hiking. She’s in a pair of black running shorts, a tank top that’s knotted at the small of her back, and her worn-out running shoes that she doesn’t actually use to run. She’s already rubbed herself down with sunscreen, has her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and she’s got her largest water bottle filled with ice water. She’s totally going to have to pee halfway through this hike, and that’s going to make a great impression.

Emma doesn’t really care about impressing Killian Jones, though. She only agreed to this date because David (mostly Mary Margaret who has bugged her about it at every training session and every dinner they’ve shared) has been trying to set them up for months now. It was getting to the point where Emma was pretty sure she was going to walk into her gym or her apartment and the man was going to be sitting there. To keep that creepy as hell thing from happening, she’s here now, getting ready to sweat her ass off on her day off from training and helping other people train. She always works Saturdays, and she can’t believe she’s using a free day for this.

An SUV pulls up next to her, so she flips her mirror down to make sure her makeup or hair isn’t out of place. It’s not, and when she flips her mirror up, she sees Killian Jones just outside her car window, smirk already stretched across his lips.

“Hello there, Swan,” he greets as she steps outside. “You look lovely.”

She glances him up and down, taking in the fitted gym shorts, gray t-shirt and similarly worn sneakers. He’s got a Sox cap on, but if she had to guess, he probably spent a long time fixing up his hair before this. “Same to you.”

Silence falls between them, and Emma shuffles her feet. She’s not exactly great at small talk, always feeling like it’s stupid to have to talk about the weather when there’s nothing else to talk about, but Killian quickly nods his head toward the trail entrance. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” Emma bites her tongue at her stupid-ass answer, and iron fills her mouth.

She’s starting to wish she was at a mediocre restaurant instead. At least then she’d get food.

“So, David told me you’re a personal trainer, so I know you already spend a lot of time exercising. I figured you wouldn’t mind this, though. It’ll only be around five miles. I didn’t plan on it being so bloody hot, though.”

“Well, if all else fails, we can jump into the water to cool off.”

“You make a good point, love.”

Killian guides the small talk – thank God – as they work their way up the trail. He tells her that he got into being a financial advisor because he screwed up in university by getting a degree in finance despite hating it. He’s good with numbers, though, even better with people, and most of his job is about convincing people to trust him. It was the only job he was qualified to have after graduation that wouldn’t require more overpriced schooling, and since he wanted to stay in the country, he had to take whatever was given to him. Six years later, he doesn’t love his job, but he doesn’t hate it.

“So, you came to America to go to a big, fancy, stuck-up Ivy League school, picked a major that you hate, and now you con people into letting you handle their money?”

“It’s not a con.”

Emma pinches her brows together. “Sure.”

“Well, half of your job is convincing people they need help reaching their fitness goals when they could do it on their own.”

“I’m going to go ahead and guess you have never had a personal trainer if that’s all you think we do.”

His forehead wrinkles when his brows lift, and he holds his hands out. “Do I look like I need one?”

Cocky asshole.

Emma hums, pretends to study him, before gently reaching over and patting his stomach. It’s firm, but she doesn’t have to admit that. “I would say there’s definitely some room for improvement there.”

His head tilts back with laughter, his blue eyes closing, and he shakes his head and starts jogging ahead of her. “Hope you can keep up, Swan,” he jokes, his speed getting faster and faster, and Emma quickly runs after him. She’s not a runner. She hates it more than she hates black coffee – which is a hell of a lot – so she only does it if Ruby forces her to do it or if she has to do it with a client. She’s more of a Pilates, cycling, boxing, anything-other-than-running kind of girl. Killian is obviously a runner from the way he moves with ease, his stride nearly perfect, and she knows he’s going slow on purpose to allow her time to catch up.

“You’re an asshole,” she yells out, laughing despite herself, as she gets a little closer to him. The bastard starts full-out sprinting, and she’s left catching her breath as she runs after him. Yep, running is definitely still a bitch, and the other people on the trail are staring at the two of them as Emma chases after Killian. She nearly calls him a “fucking bastard” out loud before she remembers there are children around. That would have been extra shitty on her part, especially since she already called him an asshole.

“Catch me if you can,” he teases, glancing back to look at her, bright smile on his face, and yep, he is a full-out runner. He can speak without gasping for breath, and she’s struggling.

She still hasn’t caught up.

Emma sucks in a deep breath, clutches her water bottle in her hand, and sprints as fast as she can, adrenaline pumping through her veins and her heart pounding. She’s almost there, Killian just out of her range, and it happens before she can stop it.

A rock catches underneath her shoe, twisting her ankle into an unnatural position, and she starts falling to the side before she can stop herself. Emma tries to catch herself, sticking her arm out to keep her face from hitting the ground, and while she does manage that, she knows her arm is going to be a killer tomorrow.

Not as much as her ankle.

“Shit,” she hisses out, rocking backward and reaching for her ankle, but it stings and aches and any possible bad word out there, it does. “Shit, shit, shiiiiit.”

Tears fill her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. It has to be a sprain and only a sprain, but she’s not stupid or stubborn enough to try to get up on her own. Emma gently lays her foot down, not moving her ankle if she can help it, and shakes out her right arm as she looks up to see Killian slowly coming to a stop in front of her, squatting down until they’re almost eye level.

“Are you okay?” he gasps, scanning her face as if that’s what she hurt.

“Oh, I’m just dandy,” Emma mocks. She’d really like to punch him in the face, right across those pretty teeth. This is his fault. He shouldn’t have started running. He’s not even sweeting. She hates him. “This is the best I’ve ever been.”

“I’m so sorry, love.”

“Not your fault,” she says, even though two seconds ago she was blaming him. She still kind of is, but her ankle is throbbing so much that she can’t think straight. “I’m just…I’m not a runner, and I wasn’t looking where I was going. That rock jumped out at me.”

“Accidents happen to all of us.” He scratches behind his ear and then points to a slash on his cheek. “Fell flat on my face during a run. Ten stitches.”

“What that sounds like to me is that neither of us should be running.”

Killian chuckles, lines appearing around his eyes. “Possibly. Do you think you can stand?”

“I’m thinking I can get up but – ” She attempts to flex her ankle, but she might as well be setting herself on fire “ – I don’t know if I can put weight on it.”

Killian nods, reaching down to gently run his fingers over her already swelling ankle. She hisses, and he backs away before standing and leaning down to help her up. Begrudgingly, she takes his hand, and she does manage to get up. When she attempts putting weight down on it, she knows that’s not going to work. She’s going to have to go to the freaking hospital to make sure the damn thing isn’t broken.

“So, good news,” he says, wrapping his arm around her waist while she holds onto his shoulder, “you can stand…a bit. Bad news, we’re a solid two miles away from the cars because we ran a little further than I realized.”

“Can you leave me here and then drive your car through these tiny trails?”

“I’m thinking I’ll get fined for destroying the park.”

“It may be worth it.”

Killian chuckles and starts slowly moving. Emma basically has to hop with him, but she does it, the two of them gingerly moving forward. “I can see if we can get someone who works at the park to bring us a golf cart. Would you like that?”

“No,” she lies, and maybe she’s a little more stubborn than she thought.

“You sure? I know you’re fit, but I don’t think anyone should hop on one leg for two miles when we can get help. I’m guessing you won’t let me carry you on my back.”

Emma curses under her breath and encourages him to keep moving forward. She distracts herself by asking Killian if he’s been to a Sox game yet this season. He’s gone to several with some of his friends, David included, and that starts an entire conversation about David and his weird habits. Talking about a man who is like a brother definitely takes any possible romance out of the date, but then again, so does a trip to the hospital.

It’s a good thing she didn’t have any expectations for this.

Emma makes it a mile before it hurts too much to keep going, and they stop at a bench as Killian googles a number to call to ask if they can get a golf cart up here. They can, but it’ll be at least thirty minutes, so they stay sitting down, Emma’s leg elevated in Killian’s lap as they sit in silence while people walk by enjoying their hikes.

She used to be one of them.

“So, this will probably be the last time you take a woman hiking on a first date?” she jokes, adjusting her ponytail so she has something to do with her hands.

“What? Do you not want to do this again?”

Emma’s hands still. “You want to do this again? With me?”

“Possibly.” He shrugs, but quickly stills so as not to twist her leg. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, this has been an absolutely minging date.”

“Thanks?”

“No, no,” Killian laughs, holding his hand up. “You’ve been wonderful, love. I’ve honestly enjoyed myself, but when you get a woman injured because you’re a bloody competitive arsehole, it doesn’t usually go down well. Dave is never going to let me live it down.”

“Oh, is that why it’s bad? Because David is going to take the piss out of you for it?”

“Definitely. It has nothing to do with you.”

Emma scoffs and leans back, the sun shining down on her face. It was boiling at the beginning of the date, but now she’s sweated so much the heat almost feels comfortable. She’s got to look great right now. She doesn’t even want to check to see if her mascara has run. “Good to know. Besides, you probably only agreed to go out with me to shut David up, right? You spend eight hours, five days a week with him. That’s a lot of time for him to talk.”

Brows pinch together as his eyes narrow. “What makes you think David had to convince me to do this?”

“I don’t know. Don’t you already have a roster of women lining up to date you? From what I’ve heard, there’s a line to your apartment door.”

Killian scoffs and tilts his head back, the sunshine hitting across his stubble and lightening it before it returns to a deep brown. His jaw clenches with a visible pulse, and Emma knows she’s fucked up.

She knows, she knows, she knows.

And she doesn’t know how to fix it. She knows she went into this with a shitty attitude about the date and about Killian, and even though she can be a prickly ass sometimes, she never wants to make someone else feel bad.

She was stupid to assume Killian had the same feelings about this date as she did.

Emma is not used to people actually wanting to be with her.

“I’m no stranger to women as I’m sure you aren’t to men, love, but that doesn’t mean I only asked you here to check off a mark on a list. I was the one who brought it up with David to see if you were interested, not the other way around.”

“Killian, I – ”

“It’s fine.” He waves her away, and she knows it’s not.

The seconds tick by but it feels like hours, and by the time the golf cart arrives to take them to their cars, Emma is convinced she can walk again out of the sheer determination to get away from this awkwardness. Killian talks to the man driving the cart, Graham she thinks, as he drives them off the trail. It’s the only conversation they have until they’re in the parking lot where Emma realizes she’s going to have to ride in his car with him to the hospital. She knew that, logically, but looking at her Bug and then Killian’s SUV, all she can think about is how much she wants to be alone right now.

This is the worst date she’s ever been on, and Neal used to count stealing food from convenience stores as dates.

(Okay, so maybe every date with Neal counts as the worst date she’s ever been on since he royally fucked up her life with them.)

Killian helps her into the backseat of his car so she can keep elevating her leg, and then he closes the door and gets in the front. He turns his radio on, some eighties classics playing through the speaker, and Emma pulls her phone out of her sports bra to text Ruby.

Emma Swan: Fell on my hike, on the way to the hospital to have my ankle checked out. I also insulted Killian, and I’m pretty sure he wanted to leave me on the hiking trail.

Ruby Lucas: What the hell?

Emma Swan: I’ll tell you about it when I get home.

Ruby Lucas: Do I need to meet you at the hospital? I’m going out with Mulan tonight, but since she has to be at work early, I’ll be home around midnight.

Emma Swan: I think the only thing that could make this worse is if he knows I’ve texted my roommate to come and save me.

Ruby Lucas: Well, if things getter better, just know it is possible to have sex with a messed-up ankle.

Emma snickers, and she catches Killian glancing in the review mirror. She bites her tongue and looks down, wondering when the hell this day is going to be over.

-/-

The wait in the emergency room is over an hour…if no one else comes in. That was the caveat the nurse told her, and she gets it. She’s not an emergency. She’s not having a heart attack. She’s just got a sprained (hopefully) ankle.

Looking back, they should have gone to an urgent care.

And she does mean “they” because Killian is still sitting next to her.

“So, what, are you a gentleman or something? Waiting for me like this.”

“I’m always a gentleman, love.”

Emma doesn’t believe that for a second, but she’s not going to argue with him. She’s already done a great job mucking things up, and she imagines David is going to have a field day with her.

She imagines Killian thinks she’s the worst.

“I’m sorry for being so awful,” Emma blurts out, and Killian’s shoulder brushes against hers as he turns to face her. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were some kind of man whore or whatever insulting term I implied. I just…I mean…I am obviously a great date, a great person, a great everything. I’m charming the pants off you.”

Killian scoffs and leans back, his arms going over his head before falling to his lap. She catches a glance at angry red scars on his left hand and forearm that she never noticed before. She wonders why he didn’t share the story behind those when he was talking about the scar on his face. It can’t have been from the same accident. No running accident is that bad. “This is not the worst date I’ve ever been on.”

“How is that possible?”

“Three years ago, I’d just gotten out of a long-term relationship. I was gutted, and I basically had to be dragged out. I was set up with this girl, we went to dinner at Yvonne’s, and there, sitting one table over, was my ex and her husband, who I had just found out about. I didn’t want to tell my new date this, so I tried to pay attention to her. I obviously did a shit job of it because she got so frustrated with me, she poured her soup on my lap and left.”

“Was the soup still hot?”

“No,” he laughs, winking at her. “It was cold, so I’m all still functional down there if that’s what you were worried about.”

“Shut up.” Emma sinks down a little lower in her seat, trying not to laugh or blush, but she knows she fails at both. “So, even after I’ve injured myself and insulted you, I still don’t get the number one spot?”

“I’m afraid you don’t, but you can feel free to give it another go.”

Emma pushes herself back up and twists to look at him, narrowing her eyes to try to figure him out. “Like, right now or on another date? Is that still up for grabs? Because no offense, but if you’re still willing to go on another date with me, I think you might have also fallen and hit your head.”

Killian shrugs. “Or I’m just as much as a wanker as you are and am willing to give you another chance.”

He cannot be serious. That seems ridiculous and ill-advised, but she sees no lie in his eyes. Has she found the craziest man in all of Boston?

There are a lot of them, and she didn’t expect it to be him. A wolf in sheep’s clothing or something else like that.

She also didn’t expect herself to want to give this another shot. Maybe it’s for her ego, but Emma’s going to try not to think about that now.

“I’m pretty sure you’re messing with me because I don’t know how we’re ever going to get past this, but if we were to go on another date, I get to pick the venue.”

“Please tell me it’s not going to be Yvonne’s.”

“Damn, you’ve ruined my plan.” He huffs and Emma nudges him with her elbow. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to walk properly again, but what do you say? You want to go to a Sox game? If we end up hating each other, we can be distracted by the game. Or we can flat out move to empty seats to avoid each other.”

“I like this plan.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think we should get seats at the top and have you walk there.”

Emma groans and elbows him again, a little harder than necessary. “Okay, so I’m buying the tickets then.”

“That was my plan all along.”

“Emma Swan,” the nurse at reception calls out, “we can take you back now.”

-/-

It’s just a sprain. A bad one but a sprain.

She’s supposed to ice it, elevate it, and rest for a few weeks. She curses at that because it means she’s going to have to be sitting during her job, which she hates, and she’s also going to have to do rehab on it. Plus, she was about to hit a record with her cycling classes, and that’s going to be delayed.

But it’s not broken, and she’s been given crutches to help her out for the first few days. She walks out on them – no one ever tells you how much they hurt your armpits – to see Killian standing, waiting for her, soft smile on his lips.

“How are you feeling?”

“Amazing,” she lies.

“David and Mary Margaret have gone and gotten your car,” Killian explains, not missing a beat, and steps to walk next to her, “and have returned it to your apartment. Mary Margaret wanted to rush here, but they’re going to that show tonight.”

“I’m sure David had to restrain her.”

“Oh, he did. I couldn’t see it, but I could imagine it from the way they talked.”

“I don’t even need to hear their argument to imagine it. Thanks for getting that taken care of.”

“No problem.”

Slowly but surely, they get to Killian’s car. She insisted he didn’t need to pull it around – he probably did – but by the time they get there, she’s having a hard time not sweating. The heat is still miserable. The air-conditioning in his car is amazing, though, and Emma nods off as he drives her to her apartment.

“I was worried the entire way here you wouldn’t have an elevator in the building.”

“I’ve got one. Don’t worry. Ruby and I moved about six months ago because we were tired of living in an old building that had a slight egg smell that never went away, so if this had happened six months ago, I’d be out of luck.”

“Small blessings, I guess.” He presses the button to turn off his engine. “Do you need help getting inside or…”

Emma rolls her eyes. “I don’t, but do you want to come in and get delivery? I feel like it’s the least I can do for you.”

“As long as it’s not soup, I’d love that.”

-/-

Emma manages not to insult Killian for the rest of the night. There are times when she thinks she takes it too far, her natural sarcasm coming out, but Killian gives as good as he gets. He never misses a beat, is constantly challenging her, and he puts away half a large pizza with as much ease as she does.

She can never tell her clients this is how she eats.

Really, sitting on her couch, her ankle wrapped in ice and set, she has a better time than she has on any of the dates she’s gone on in the past year. Killian’s never seen The Umbrella Academy, so she puts it on and they watch it, a bowl of popcorn with all the fixings between them.

She really can’t tell her clients this is how she eats.

At some point, the sun now set and the outside world darkened, her eyes get heavy and she drifts off, hushed conversation and laughter in the background. She recognizes those voices, and opens her eyes to see Ruby and Killian talking, but then she’s nodding off to sleep again, the world’s edges blurring. She still feels soft lips and harsh stubble brush against her forehead before everything bleeds into darkness.

-/-

“I cannot believe you screwed that one up.”

“What?” Emma asks, blinking her eyes open. Her neck is killing her, but that’s only momentary distraction from the way her ankle is throbbing.

“I can’t believe you screwed your date up,” Ruby says, and now Emma recognizes that it’s Ruby talking to her. “I mean, he was hot, Emma. So, so hot. Like, I would sleep with him even if he was the biggest asshole in the world.”

“Can you get me some more ice?” Emma groans, groggy.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Ruby gets up and walks into the kitchen, and Emma tries sitting up and opening up her eyes a little more. She doesn’t know what time it is, so she fumbles around for her phone, the bright screen opening up to tell her it’s seven in the morning. She’s also got a slew of texts from David and Mary Margaret, her boss at the gym, Elsa, and one Killian Jones.

The first text is a link. It’s two tickets to a Red Sox game two weeks from now, and the seats aren’t in the upper deck.

Killian Jones: Can I count on seeing you there? You know, to redeem yourself.

Emma Swan: I thought I said I’d buy the tickets.

The bubbles pop up immediately despite Killian having sent his message at two in the morning.

Killian Jones: Didn’t want to chance that you’d run away.

Emma Swan: Is that supposed to be funny?

Killian Jones: Absolutely.

Emma laughs and the corners of her lips tug up. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t anywhere near the worst date she’d ever been on even if it did leave her sore in all the wrong places.

Emma Swan: I’ll be there.

“What are you smiling about?” Ruby asks as she comes in with a newly filled ice pack.

“I didn’t screw the date up as badly as I thought, I guess.” Emma shrugs and lifts her ankle as Ruby wraps it up. “I think it goes down as one of the most interesting first dates in existence, though.”

“And you didn’t even sleep with him, so that’s saying something.”

Emma tosses a pillow at Ruby and sinks into the couch, her heartbeat going a little faster than normal.

Killian Jones: If you get hit by a fly ball, I think that may be it for us. I can’t have you be injured on two dates in a row.

-/-

She doesn’t get hit by a fly ball.

She doesn’t get injured at all.

And in all of the other dates they go on, no one sprains an ankle or gets it by a fly ball or breaks an arm. They’ve got a pretty good track record of good dates, but as Killian likes to say, you never forget your first.

[toosicktoocare]

prompt: Could I request another sick T.K. but pushing through the illness during work and maybe passing out? 🥰 your writing is incredible and I always check your page when I log in 😊😊

Carlos had been sick, picking up a small cold from another officer, but TK had insisted at the time that he didn’t care and still wanted to sleep with him, banking on a relatively strong immune system to keep the virus at bay; however, perhaps his immune system’s been compromised due to previous drug intake because he wakes for his shift two days after sleeping with Carlos to a throat that burns with each swallow and a headache that thumps softly against his temples.

He’s hot. His blankets feel smoldering and heavy against his skin, and he kicks them off with a groan that brings with it a few dry coughs. He brings a fist to his mouth, coughing into it as he swings his legs over the bed and slides to his feet. The quick motion blurs his vision, and he brings one hand to his head, the headache pushing to a steady pounding now.

“Shit,” he mutters around a few, lingering coughs. He tugs at his shirt collar, hoping to bring some cool air to his heated skin, and stumbles to his bathroom, sluggishly opening his medicine cabinet and reaching around until his hand finds the Ibuprofen bottle. Snagging it, he moves to close his mirror, stopping when his hand brushes against a digital thermometer.

Carlos never had a fever; he didn’t even really have a cough. He was congested, a little more tired than usual, nose irritated and red-rimmed from sneezing, but that was it. TK ghosts his fingers right above the thermometer, and he almost forgoes it entirely, but as if to push him, a wave of heat washes over him, burning at his face, his cheeks, and he snags it with a sigh, turning it on and popping it under his tongue as he opens the Ibuprofen and shakes out a few pills.

The thermometer doesn’t take long to beep quietly, and he plucks it from his lips, frown pulling at the corners of his lips as his eyes stare hard at the 101.2 degree reading. He puts it away, opting to keep this to himself, and pops a few pills into his mouth, washing them down with water cupped in his palm. The pills grate against his sore throat, and he winces as he strips and steps into his shower, putting the water on a cooler temperature to chase away the heat.

The cool stream washes over his heated skin, and he presses one arm to the bathroom wall and drops his forehead against his arm, eyes fluttering closed as he goes still, only letting the shower break the heat. He zones out, almost nodding off, feeling far too fatigued after a full night’s sleep, and he only comes to when the water goes from a pleasant cool to a piercing cold that has him jerking awake with a trembling gasp. His hands shake as he quickly moves through familiar motions of washing himself, and he’s stumbling out of the shower four minutes later, shivering hard, teeth chattering, as he grabs a towel and pulls it around himself.

Drying himself is hard. His limbs have succumbed to a chill that he can’t wipe away with a towel, yet his face still feels oddly hot, and he knows it’s the fever. His reflection when he walks by the mirror is pale, worn, yet his cheeks are colored a deep red, and he presses the back of his hand to his cheek, feeling the heat warm his cold hand.

It’s fine, he tells himself. He just has to wait for the medicine to kick in, and then he will be fine. He’s not in a job position where he can call out from a cold, not when there are so many lives on the line daily. He slips into sweats and pulls a soft, yellow hoodie over his head, slipping into a pair of sneakers before snagging his bag as he starts out of the room.

His dad’s cooking. He can smell omelettes the second he steps into the hall, and his stomach churns at the strong whiffs of eggs and peppers. Swallowing thickly, he takes a moment to compose himself because he has to, and then he steps into the kitchen just as Owen’s plating an omelette.

“Good morning, TK!” Owen sings, voice rising and falling in a made up melody, and TK opens his mouth to reply, but then a tickle hits his nose, and he, instead, turns away to sneeze sharply three times into the crook of his arm, groaning around a light sniffle when he brings his eyes back to Owen.

“Maybe not such a good morning?” Owen asks, eyes hyper-focused on the flush clinging to TK’s cheeks, standing out against too pale skin, and on the soft tremors that TK tries to hid by crossing his arms. “You look terrible.”

“Wow,” TK drags out, wincing at the pain in his throat and the congestion thick in his voice, “thanks, dad.” He moves to slip past Owen to the fridge, forced to maneuver around Owen’s outstretched hand reaching toward his face.

“TK,” Owen starts, concern etched across his forehead. “Your flushed. You look like you’re running a fever.”

TK’s been expecting this ever since he caught sight of his reflection in the bathroom mirror, and despite his pounding head muddling his thoughts, he’s worked through three possible conversations that will come from his current appearance, and he shrugs, opting for the nonchalant route as he grabs his reusable water bottle from the fridge, having left it in there to chill overnight.

“I just got out of the shower.”

“I know,” Owen says, and TK freezes, not expecting that response. He spins around slowly, frown painted across his lips, and he tilts his head in silent question.

“Your hair’s suffering,” Owen mutters, motioning toward his own hair. “You haven’t styled it. You always style it.”

“I woke up late.”

“No, you didn’t. Your alarm went off at the same time it always does.”

Rolling his eyes, TK turns back around, filling his bottle up with water. “Creepy much?” He asks, going for a joke, but Owen doesn’t take to it, only sighing behind TK.

“I’m fine,” TK mutters, coughing lightly as he turns back to face his dad. “Carlos had a cold, and I guess I caught it.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing as if trying to will his headache away.

“You should take your temperature,” Owen starts, turning to leave the room, but TK stops him, calling to him around a few more coughs.

“Dad, stop. I already did, and I’m fine,” he mutters out the lie, sniffling lightly. “I have a headache that I’ve already taken medicine for. I’m just waiting for it to kick in.”

“You should take off today.”

“And risk the entire team calling out favoritism because the captain’s son gets to stay home with a small cold? No thanks.” TK snags his keys from the key dish on the counter.

“It’s not favoritism,” Owen says sharply, yet the frown pulled at his lips contradicts his tone. “I would let anyone take a sick day if they’re feeling unwell. Your health and safety is always my top priority.”

“When are you going to make it yours?” TK asks under his breath, and he’s forced to look away at the pained look Owen shoots him, bringing his eyes to his feet.

“TK--”

“--it’s fine,” TK says, sighing. He brings his gaze back to his dad’s. “I’m fine. I’ll see you at the station.”

*****

After hours of his team picking at him, for his hair being “too floppy,” to his voice sounding “dumb,” as Probie so nicely put it, to the light-hearted, disgusted shouts every time he coughs or sneezes, TK’s silently thankful to be on their last call, a head-on collision on a remote back road.

He feels considerably worse. Though he’s been taking medicine every four hours, the Ibuprofen is doing nothing to touch his headache, and he’s been alternating from hot to cold all day, a clear indication that the medicine hasn’t even come close to touching the fever he’s been running. His voice is rough from coughing, weak, cracking, almost gone entirely, and his jacket pockets are stuffed with tissues.

He feels miserable, and he takes a moment to cough harshly into his fist, hunching in on himself, as the others hop out of the truck and start toward the scene, with only Judd lingering behind.

“That doesn’t sound good, TK.”

“I’m fine.” TK snaps, but he doesn’t mean to. He’s been the center of his father’s concerned gaze all day, and frankly, it’s aggravating him to no end. Five different times his dad’s managed to snag him aside and question how he’s feeling, try to feel for a fever, just general doting that he doesn’t want.

“Being sick sure does make you cranky,” Judd grumbles, and TK sighs shakily, groaning low in his throat when fever chills replace the previous heat that’s been mercilessly clinging to his bones. He hops out of the truck, crossing his arms, and he shoots Judd an apologetic look before slipping his helmet on.

“Sorry,” he offers, turning away to sneeze sharply into the crook of his arm. “Cap’s been hounding me all day about this, and I just want to work in peace.” He brings his face back toward Judd, reflexes too slow to dodge the hand that sneaks past his helmet’s visor to feel at his forehead.

“He’s hounding you with good reason,” Judd grumbles, bringing his hand back with a frown. “You’re on fire.”

“I’m fine,” TK pushes, and Judd opens his mouth to retort, but then there’s a lot of shouting, and they whip around to see Owen calling out orders.

“Get the jaws of life! We’ve got someone not breathing trapped in there!”

TK falls into quick motion, moving along Owen’s orders, doing what he can to assist his team, to free those trapped in both cars. For a moment, he forgets everything, his headache, his fever, the heat pouring off his face, but then, when he turns to grab a neck brace for Michelle, the heat from his face washes over his entire body, different from before, different from the heat of a fever. It’s engulfing, and it blurs his vision. He stumbles to a stop, blinking rapidly to try and clear his eyesight.

It’s not working, and he can feel his chest constricting against the panic that slams at him. His ears begin to ring, the heat begins to grow far too unbearable, and the next time he blinks, his vision is gray, and then he blinks again and everything goes dark.

*****

“-K?”

TK starts to come to slowly, struggling against the heavy weight of a headache pushing against this temples, down his neck, to his shoulders. He feels like lead, and he can feel someone shaking his shoulder, touching his neck, his forehead.

“”Tyler Kennedy Strand, open your eyes right now!”

There are two people in Texas who know TK’s full name, and that booming, worried tone is not Carlos. TK’s eyes snap open, and Owen’s face mixes with relief and concern.

“There you are,” Owen mutters, hand sliding down TK’s cheek, worry etched across his forehead. “You’re burning up.”

TK moves to push past Owen, memories flooding back slowly. His body’s shaking, but he pushes up into a sitting position, looking over Owen’s shoulder toward the car. “The girl,” he mutters, lungs bursting and bringing forth thick, heavy coughs. “Is she--”

“--she’s fine,” Owen says, hand clamped to TK’s shoulder to keep him upright. “You, on the other hand, are not.”

“What happened?” TK asks, eyes frantic, darting between those surrounding him, falling to Carlos, who’s sporting an unreadable expression.

“You fainted,” Owen answers, but when TK moves to stand, he tightens his grip. “Woah, TK, easy. You should get checked by Michelle first.”

“I’m--”

“--if you say you’re fine one more time,” Owen snaps, and TK goes still, flopping back against the grass, draping an arm over his head. He starts shaking when the chills pick back up, and he remains lying on the ground, tuning out the voices over him as he’s looked over by the EMTs. 

*****

TK fell asleep as soon as Owen brought him home and urged him to take the flu medication they picked up on their way back, and he sleeps for hours, only coming to to quiet voices from the living room. Opening his eyes is hard, swallowing around the dryness painted in his throat is harder. He coughs, pushing up into a sitting position as rough coughs jerk against his lungs. He slips out of the bed, bringing his blanket with him, wrapping it over his shoulders, and he stumbles out of his room, dizzy yet curious.

He makes it to the living room, shivering, jaw clenched to keep his teeth from clacking together, and he drops against the door frame, arching one brow at his dad and Carlos chatting on the couch.

“What is this?” He asks, turning to cough into his blanket, and Carlos starts toward him, a small smile playing at his lips.

“Your bed head is cute.”

“Stop,” TK whines, moving to pull the blanket over the back of his head. “Why are you here?” He looks past Carlos to Owen. “It’s 2 AM.”

“Carlos wanted to stop by and check on you,” Owen answers, moving out of the living room to his own room. “I’ll leave you two alone. Not too late, Carlos. He needs rest.”

“Dad,” TK drags out, coughing weakly, and Carlos nods and bids Owen a good night.

“Why are you up?”

“The sound of my fuck buddy and my father talking is bound to wake me up,” TK grumbles, and Carlos laughs quietly and brushes the back of his hand to TK’s forehead.

“You feel warmer than before,” Carlos frowns, and TK sags against him, dropping his head to Carlos’ shoulder.

“I feel like shit,” he grumbles, sighing softly when Carlos’ arms wrap around him. “How did you get a small cold and I got the fucking flu?”

“Remember when you said you were too busy to get your flu shot?”

“Fuck off,” TK spits out weakly, and Carlos’ laughing vibrates against him, warm and comfortable, and he moves easily as Carlos guides him back to his bedroom. “Are you going to stay?” he asks, climbing back into his bed, and Carlos arches a brow.

“I was going to ask if that was okay.”

“You’re already BFFs with my dad,” TK mutters, sleeping pulling at him sharply. “You might as well now.”  

[caitybug]

"You see the good in everthing, thats why I like it when you look at me." prompt. 😪💖

Eek! Thanks so much for this prompt, my dear! I hope this is alright.

(Normal/High school AU. Don’t think about it too much, it probably won’t make much sense if you do LOL.)

You can read it here on ao3

Simon Snow is a mess.

A nightmare.

A complete travesty. 

And I can’t figure out why he keeps staring at me. 

(Not that I want it to stop- but it’s odd. He knows I’m here. We drove together.)

Is he checking on me?

“Mate, you all right?” 

I turn, almost tripping myself, to the voice speaking to me. 

Fucking leg.

“I’m fine, Niall,” I reply coolly, turning back around. 

When I look forward I can see the players clearly. I can also see a straight shot of Simon in my periphery, talking to Bunce and consistently looking my way. 

“How’s the ankle?” Niall asks.

I sigh.

“Still sprained, but doing better.”

The doctor said it would have been better if I had completely broken it. That it would have been easier to heal. 

(My aunt didn’t find it funny when I jokingly said I could break it myself if need be.)

I see Dev miss a pass and I grumble under my breath.

He’s too busy trying to show off. 

(It’ll cost us a lot more than a missed pass if he keeps it up.)

I feel Simon move next to me, and I try to fix my posture. 

He keeps looking at me.

(But I don’t want him to ever look away.)

When he looks at me I feel weightless. 

It used to make me want to throttle him. But now…

Now I never want him to look away.

Someone shouts for Niall and he leaves us be, not even saying goodbye. 

“They’re shit without you,” Simon says.

I groan.

“It’s pitiful. A team shouldn’t rely on one player so much.”

I turn around to look at Simon. He’s watching the field, brows furrowed.

“What is Gareth doing?” He asks.

I look.

Gareth is running towards our goal with the ball. His face is lit up with excitement. People are shouting.

I look away.

“Tell me when it’s over,” I mutter, squeezing my eyes shut. 

No amount of bracing myself could have prepared me for the loud groan from the audience around us. 

Simon lets out a low whistle. 

“We should go.”

He looks up at me, confused. “Why?”

“I can’t do this. It’s not like I can help them.” I gesture to the current brace on my leg. “We can get food- I’m sure you’re hungry.”

He gives a shrug and starts for the car.

His eyes still don’t leave me.

It makes me feel warm, the way he looks at me. 

It’s not a normal glance, I don’t think. It’s purposeful.

Meaningful.

I hear cheers from behind us and pray that they are for our team.

We get into the car and he glances over to me as he turns the key in the ignition. 

“Do I have something on my face, Snow?” I ask. 

He looks confused.

“No?” He responds.

“You keep looking at me.”

“You look really nice tonight, is all,” he says, buckling his seatbelt. 

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

(What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?)

“I’ll stop,” he says, shifting gears and reversing

A pause. 

“Staring, that is. I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You’re not.”

I stare forward, realizing my mistake.

“I’m not?” He asks. 

He makes a right turn onto the road, and I’m trying to guess where he is going. 

Maccies would have been a left, so it’s not that. 

I clear my throat.

“No.”

He makes another turn as if he is driving home. He gives me a sideways glance, smiling at me. 

I feel heat rising to my cheeks.

“Do you like it when I look at you?”

I manage to glance at him, seeing the bright smile on his face that always manages to warm my heart.

“Yes.”

His smile grows, and I turn to take it in full. To let it wash over me.

He’s still watching the road, but the smile is still plastered wide on his face. 

We hit a light and he turns to look at me. 

The way he looks at me makes me feel unbreakable.

Untouchable by anything.

Simon Snow paints a clear view of his emotions on his face. And when he looks at me, I think I can find all the answers I’m looking for.

(If I let myself, at least.)

“Why?” He asks.

He places his hand on mine.

(It’s so warm.)

“When you look at me, it’s as if-” god am I really going to say it? “-I’m good too.”

His head cocks to the side.

“You see the good in everything,” I say, my hands flying in the air. “I don’t know how you do it. Even when things were-” 

Fuck, don’t go there.

“I just mean,” I say, softer this time. “You see the good in everything. So when you look at me I feel good too. It makes me feel like I could be one of those good things in your life.”

Simon stares at me a moment longer, leaning in slightly.

I wonder, for a moment, if he’s about to do what I think is crossing his mind.

A car honks behind us, and we both jump.

Simon shifts gears again and we pull through the intersection.

“You are good,” he says, continuing the conversation. “Better than most.”

I look down at my lap, smiling to myself, letting his words absorb into me. 

“And I like to look at you.”

I look back up, he makes another turn.

Is he taking me home?

We sit in silence for a couple minutes (an eternity, perhaps.) He misses the street where I live, and I still can’t figure out where he is taking us for food. 

“Where are we going, Snow?”

He shrugs.

“I was waiting for you to tell me,” he responds.

I roll my eyes.

“Pull over.”

He does. There’s a park next to us that’s empty. 

(It’s a bit creepy if I’m being honest. But it works.)

“Baz,” he says at the same time I say “Simon.”

We both freeze, waiting for the other.

I sigh.

“You first, Snow.”

He smiles, looking at me in that way again.

The way that makes my insides twist.

“I like you, Baz.”

My mouth goes dry.

Am I hallucinating?

“I like you a lot and-” he clears his throat. “I’d like to take you out if you’d let me.”

I remind myself to keep breathing.

(Imagine passing out in a dark car park outside of a playground after being asked out on a date. Pitiful.)

“You-” a breath. “Want to take me out? Like, on a date?”

He laughs softly.

“Yeah, something like that.”

I blink once, twice, trying to get my brain to compute.

I turn to face the dashboard, composing my features.

“Well then,” I say,” Get on with it.”

“Huh?” He asks.

“The date.” I fix my hair in the side mirror. “We’ve got a few hours before either of us needs to be home.” I turn to face him again. “Woo me, Simon Snow. Show me what it’s like to date you.”

He smiles again, realizing what I’m agreeing to.

“Alright, I can do that,” he responds. 

He turns the car back on, putting both hands on the steering wheel.

We sit for a moment.

“Snow-”

“I have no clue where we are.” He interrupts.

I laugh.

“If you make a right we’ll hit a street filled with restaurants.”

“Thanks,” he says, sighing with relief. 

He turns down the road, and we find a place to eat. 

A date with Simon Snow.

Dinner, talking, a kiss before he drops me off. 

I walk to the door, cursing my bad ankle, but smiling nonetheless. 

My cheeks hurt from it, but my soul feels full. 

I get a notification on my phone. A text from Simon. 

Could we do this again tomorrow?

A second date with him.

I close the door behind me and watch his lights go down the road. 

I send him a text. One word, but an answer.

Yes.

[ethelphantom]

car windows with pretty girls

I don’t even ship Dickinette how did this happen? 

Actually, no, don’t answer that. It’s because I found a prompt that I thought fit Dickinette. That’s how. (It’s not like I dislike the ship, it’s just not my cup of tea. If I disliked it, I would not have written this thing ever regardless of how fitting the prompt may have been. Also, Mari and Dick get a happy ending even if some people don’t so you don’t need to worry about me killing off either of them. You’re safe from that this once.) 

Ao3

This is Maribat and Dickinette -- Don’t like; Don’t read.

_______

It was boring being hyperactive and then needing to wait in the car with no estimations of how long he would need to be there.

So, clearly, the obvious thing to do — if he had to stay in the damned car anyway — was to people-watch.

Now, people-watching was definitely more Timmers’ or Jay’s thing, both scarily accurate with their knowledge and understanding of people, albeit they’d learnt to do so for very different reasons. Tim’s parents had insisted that you needed to know how to read people to find their weaknesses to be able to keep them below you. Even if that wasn’t what Tim used his skills for, it was the reason behind it. Jason, for his part, had learnt because otherwise your odds of surviving in the Crime Alley were extremely, alarmingly low. He too had kept it up.

It was fun, mostly. Dick wasn’t the greatest detective in the family — that would be Tim or Bruce —, or the one who could read others as easily and fast as Jason read books — that would be Tim and Jason —, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to do all of that well anyway.

So, obviously, when a bunch of young adults near him got into an argument and one girl spilled all of her drink on another, he noticed immediately how said girl was definitely lying about whatever she was saying. She kept covering her mouth, trying to groom herself even though there was nothing amiss in her appearance, and it seemed that they took a little too long to answer to the other girl a lot of the time. If it was apologising, well, Dick was tempted to go take care of the situation and then take the drenched girl to clean up.

Unfortunately, they all left and while his eyes kept following the group, he also lost sight of the victim. Damnit. He wouldn’t be able to help her in any way now.

Not that knowing where she was would have helped much anymore soon as someone blocked his sight by standing in front of the window. Dick sighed and settled back down on his seat, contemplating taking out his phone and just trying to call someone because he needed stimulation. Why was he left alone here waiting again?

It took him another ten seconds before he realised that the person in front of the window was trying to check their appearance and was at the moment trying to get their hair in order. Dick watched them for a bit before recognising them — if only for the absolutely lovely, soaked, light blue denim dress and the black fitted leather coat she was wearing — because this was the girl who got a drink thrown on her.

Now that he had a better look at her, he decided she was not only beautiful, but also gorgeous. Her black hair was a little below her shoulders, and god, she had the most beautiful blue eyes — and that was saying something, because basically all of his siblings had blue eyes, he had blue eyes, and heavens knew he thought his were the best.

She didn’t even seem to realise he was there. Oh well, if she wasn’t going to take long anymore, he supposed it didn’t matter if he looked at her a bit longer, but if this was going to continue more, Dick would feel like a creep and have to tell her to find another place because he didn’t want to violate her privacy more than was absolutely necessary.

But then. Then he saw the tear streaks on her face and he decided that he needed to do something. Even if only to comfort the girl.

He rolled the window down and laughed a little as the girl looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Hello miss, I couldn’t help but notice you checking how you looked like without realising I was here, and I thought I’d tell you that you no matter how you see yourself from the car window — I doubt it’s that good of a mirror, honestly —, you’re really pretty.” That raised blush on the girl’s cheeks and it looked like she was about to apologise, so Dick continued speaking. He didn’t want her to apologise because it’s not like she did anything wrong. “Can I help you with anything? I noticed the confrontation earlier and it didn’t look too good.”

The girl sighed before snapping her gaze back to Dick, eyes wide. “Are you actually offering to listen to me?” Huh. She had a strong French accent, but her English was otherwise wonderful. Dick wondered how many languages she spoke. Then he paid attention to her words again and…

Why was that such a surprise?

It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise.

Had anyone offered to listen to her in years?

“Yeah. You want to go to that coffee shop on the other side of the street or just stand there? I would offer for you to come into the car but I feel like that’s really creepy and uncomfortable so we’re not doing that. Your pick. Coffee shop or the street? Both are safe and public places.”

The girl straightened her hat and bit her lip. “Coffee would be nice, but I don’t think I have any money with me anymore.”

“Anymore?”

“A long story.”

“I have time to listen. And as to what comes to the money, I’ll pay. Not expecting you to pay anything back.”

“Alright. Coffee shop it is.”

Dick opened the car door and stepped out, only now realising how short the girl was compared to him. God. He offered a hand to her, bowing slightly with a grin on his face, and finally he got her to chuckle. A hint of genuine happiness. That was good. One step forwards and all that.

“Shall we go, M’Lady?”

The girl stiffened.

Actually, no, it was more like she froze. She looked scared and uncomfortable all of a sudden, and Dick silently cursed himself.

“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong? No, scratch that, which of my actions made you uncomfortable? I need to know so I can stop doing it.”

“The’M’Lady part,” she whispered, biting her lip. “Just, this guy used to harass me and call me that.”

Shit.

“I’m so sorry, miss. I won’t do it again. Is there any other nickname you would be comfortable with — I tend to use a lot of nicknames for people —, or would you be more comfortable if I stuck with your name once you gave it to me?”

“Marinette. My name’s Marinette. As long as the nickname doesn’t sound like a pet name, I think I’ll be fine.”

“So, is Mari okay? Or Teacup? You’re so small that Teacup sounds right, but of course I won’t use that if it’s not okay with you.”

“Teacup… I think Teacup is fine.”

And then there was that stupid, wonderful, adorable smile that was now on her face again and Dick definitely loved it. He was pretty sure that if he got a chance to keep spending time with Marinette, he would probably start liking her more than was appropriate but that was not what he wanted to focus on now. Right now, it was making sure she got happier.

“Do you need a towel? I think we have some in the car, I could fetch you one,” he said, smiling at Mari.

“It… I think that could be nice, but you don’t need to do it. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“I insist. You aren’t bothering me at all, I’d love to be able to help.”

“Thank you.” Then she stopped and looked like she needed to add something to it. Surely, a few seconds later she continued, “For just about everything.”

Dick just laughed and winked before he went to get the towel from the backseats. Then he gave the towel to Mari, keeping the smile on his face to try to reassure her everything would be fine, and that she wasn’t a bother.

While she was drying herself, Dick pulled out his phone and texted Babs that everything was fine, he hadn’t been kidnapped or anything, but that there had been this girl that needed some company and he was taking her to the coffee shop nearby. Soon enough, he got a message back saying that she was taking over the car and would drive herself back, that she wasn’t going to wait for his slow ass to come back. Then, a few seconds later, he received another message from her, telling him to not scare this one away if she was of age and to make sure that if she was smart and didn’t want Dick, she wanted to be introduced to her.

Dick laughed. Yeah, no, this one wouldn’t become hers, not if he could help it.

“Who was that?” Marinette asked as she handed the towel back to him. “Sorry, that wasn’t polite to ask.”

“Don’t worry about it, Teacup,” he grinned. She smiled, hopefully at the nickname. That was great. Dick accepted the towel and threw it back into the car. Babs wouldn’t be happy about it but she just had to deal. “It was my friend, the one I was with here. Told her she can go back on her own, though she’ll probably call one of my brothers to drive her,” he told her, closing the car and then checking if it locked. It did. Babs would survive, she should have the keys as well, and even if she didn’t, she could very well hack the car open with her phone.

She’d done it before, too.

“I’m sorry I interrupted your… date?”

“Nah, I’m not dating her. She wanted to go somewhere and just left me in the car, it’s fine. Besides, it was me that offered to take you to the coffee shop, wasn’t it?” Mari nodded. “Then it’s not your fault and you don’t need to apologise.”

Dick made sure she was ready to go before turning to the coffee shop and walking there with Mari. He tried to cheer her up by telling dumb stories of his family (like especially the time when Jason stole Tim’s room, rather literally. They’d found everything from the roof three days later. In turn, Tim had tampered with Jason’s sprinklers in his apartment, so they were extra sensitive, and the second he started smoking inside the apartment, they went off and there was water everywhere), and sometimes he even made her laugh. Once they got inside, she was a little more comfortable with him and with a little prompting and helping questions, she started telling him what had happened with the others.

Apparently, one of them was a pathological liar, and she had said something about sleeping with the CEO of the Wayne Enterprises, in a rather slandering way, and Mari had called her out on it. When Dick asked her how she’d guessed it was a lie (to which Mari had shot back how he knew it was a lie either and Dick had been forced to tell he knew the CEO, though he didn’t mention they were family just in case), and she told him it was less about knowing it was a lie and more calculating the likeliness of it being true. One, it was unlikely because the CEO was way younger than any of them, and two, as the person had been lying about nearly everything for years, so the most probable situation was that she was lying again.

“Usually I just leave her alone with her lies because none of them believe me and she managed to ruin my life once already. I don’t need her to do it again,” Mari huffed, sipping at her second coffee. Dick wasn’t completely sure how she managed to drink coffee like that, it was stronger than Tim’s when he went to a coffee shop, yet she drank it without a blink like she was drinking water.

“Ruined your life? As in…?”

“She got into one of my favourite fashion designer’s good graces, managed to convince him to completely blacklist me from any and all possible fashion companies and because of that even the one fashion designer that still liked me — Audrey Bourgeois — couldn’t hire me either. It would have been bad marketing. She also succeeded in her threat of taking away all my friends, and now all of them enjoy spreading false rumours about me behind my back so I can hardly get any new friends. I do get my living by selling my designs behind a name no one can link me to, but it’s not something I enjoy. What you saw wasn’t that big even. I’ve had worse happen to me because of them.”

“Then why did you defend the CEO everyone would lie about behind his back and to the newspapers and gossip magazines anyway? You don’t even know him, right?”

“No, but he’s so young, not even an adult yet. He doesn’t deserve it. It’s not like I could just watch it happen and do nothing! It’s not his fault Lila is a pathological liar with no consideration of how it affects others. This is the same girl that convinced our classmates Jagged Stone had written a song about her when she was still 14, which is bad because her parents hadn’t consented to it and Jagged is a middle-aged man.”

Mari sighed and set her cup aside before burying her face in her hands. “I’m just so tired of all this because I can hardly do anything about the situation and I hate it.”

Dick watched her silently. It was clear she was strong, stronger than most people he knew (and he knew a lot of people, most of them superheroes or vigilantes), and Dick respected it. She deserved a break. He knew he could do something about it because this Lila had lied about his little brother and the Wayne family definitely had all the resources it needed to bring the young woman down, but that wouldn’t help Mari. The blacklisting thing would stay for a long time, and that he couldn’t change. Not if he didn’t get someone even more powerful vouching for her anyway… Unless.

“Do you mind if I make a call? I’ll be right back. Feel free to order a third cup of coffee, I’m still paying. The barista with the red hair knows me, so he should be fine with it. Just tell him that Dick is paying and he can call Dick for all he wants if he doesn’t believe you, but that Dick’s coming back soon anyway. If he still doesn’t believe you, remind him that he’s literally one of the fastest people on earth and could probably catch you in two seconds flat,” he laughed, but for some reason the smirk that grew on her face at that made him a little suspicious.

She didn’t say anything about it though. “Oh, that’s fine, I’ll survive. I wasn’t thinking about running away anyway,” she said smiling, the smirk all but gone now, and if Dick hadn’t been absolutely certain he had seen it, he would’ve been doubting his eyes because how could this sweet girl smirk like… that. It reminded him of Jason’s smirk, or maybe the Red Hood’s smirk. It was rather disturbing.

But, Dick just shook it off and dialed Tim. It took a few rings before Tim answered, groaning out a frustrated “Yes? I’m in a meeting right now, dick.” Dick wasn’t sure whether to be shocked or impressed Tim had clearly used his name as an insult just now. God, he needed to stop hanging out with Jason.

“Well Timmers, I was wondering, do you have any fashion related projects at WE? Or any you could start? I have a… friend... who might need a job. She’s a fashion designer and apparently a pathological liar — who, by the way, lied about you and this friend of mine defended you — managed to get her blacklisted in the fashion world. It would be nice to keep her around. She showed me some of her sketches and finished clothing and I was allowed to take pictures of some she’s already finished and is selling so it wouldn’t matter as much to her if I had a picture of them.”

Tim sighed. “You could have just said you have a crush and need a job for said crush. Send the pictures over and I’ll decide then.”

“Way ahead of you, I did so like three seconds ago. Check your email, Timbo.”

“Cut it out. I’ll check them out and decide then if I—”

Tim went silent all of a sudden. After ten seconds, Dick decided he should check up on him. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, I am but— Did you happen to ask for who she is? Like, her designer name?”

“No…? I can though. Wait a second. Mari! What’s your designer name?”

Mari looked at him with wide eyes and two empty cups of coffee more in front of her. “Uh, L’ange, why?”

“Just wondering. Go order another coffee if you need one. Or, well, you know what, order as many as you want as long as Wally isn’t going to have my head for letting you drink too much caffeine.”

Marinette laughed and got up to get herself more coffee, smiling victoriously at Wally standing behind the counter who sighed, shot an unimpressed look at Dick and started chatting with Mari. It was amazing how Dick could see Wally fasten his pace while they talked but Mari just kept up like it was the most normal thing ever.

“Alright, she says it’s L’ange. Why?”

“It matters because I recognised the designs and clothes easily. They’re my favourite designer’s and I needed to know if you’d found them! And if your girl there indeed is L’ange like she says, you just met my favourite designer and I’m so, so jealous. I want to meet her. If she is who she says she is, I am going to create a fashion project with her if we don’t already have one.”

Dick laughed at Tim’s serious tone. “Alright Timmy, I’ll tell her the news. Have fun at the meeting, don’t let Lucius rip you a new one. Also, stop spending so much time with Jason. It’s good you’re getting better along but your use of language is getting worse.”

“Haha, funny, dick.” And Tim hung up.

How annoying. Why did he love his little brothers again?

“Teacup, put the coffee away, I’ve got a job offer that could help with your dream of becoming a professional designer who could use her own name for you. You want to hear it or are you going to try and talk Wally into hiring you here? Because you do know you won’t be able to drink as much coffee while working, right?”

That got him a (rather friendly, playful and non-homicidal) glare from Mari before she stuck her tongue out at him. Dick snorted and took out his credit card to pay Wally. Judging by the amount of empty coffee cups at their table and at the counter, Mari had drank more than enough. It was a little worrying and surprising that she wasn’t vibrating with energy or climbing the curtains. No, she looked more like a completely normal, not over-energised human being.

God, how much did she drink caffeine on the daily?

“Sure. Shoot.”

“My brother is a CEO and after seeing your designs, he recognised you. You’re apparently his favourite designer, and he’s completely ready to either find a fashion project for you to work on — using your own designs, of course — or to create one from the scratch with you if there isn’t one in existence already. Knowing him, he’d definitely fully credit you for all you do, although the most likely case is he’s going to market it as a collaboration between the company and you. He wishes to meet you,” he explained and watched Mari’s face go from a frown to surprise to a bright smile with a hint of suspicion.

“Really? Though first, who is this brother..?”

“So. You know how I said I just know Timothy Drake-Wayne?”

“...Yes?”

“He’s my adoptive little brother.”

“Alright… I can meet up with him then. It would be nice to be able to really get my name out there.”

“Great! WE is so big that it’s likely we would be able to mostly erase the blacklisting while at it, and if you’re working with us, we could also discredit the liar so it could make your life easier. Obviously, we would need proof of her words, but—”

“There’s an entire blog full of them. There should be enough proof, and I don’t think I’d be surprised if she’d used your family before if you’re indeed of the Wayne family.”

“Well, that I can certainly prove by taking you to meet Timmy. Bye Wally, have fun working!”

Wally snorted and quickly waved before getting back to work. “I will, but I think you should be the one to remember not to have too much fun at work. We still up for the weekend?”

“Obviously.”

oOoOo

Three hours and twenty-seven minutes later, one Marinette Dupain-Cheng was hired by Timothy Drake-Wayne while Dick Grayson grinned outside Tim’s office at Marinette’s thumbs up.

Seventy-nine days later the collaboration of WE, Timothy Drake-Wayne, L’Ange and Marinette Dupain-Cheng had been created, presented, accepted and started, which was then celebrated by one Dick Grayson bringing a bottle of rose wine for himself and Marinette, and apple juice (that was then thrown at Dick) for Tim to celebrate the beginning of a beautiful partnership.

Six months and fourteen days after that, around the time they started advertising the collaboration for the first time, the issue with one Lila Rossi got significantly worse and they were forced to take legal action right then and there. The Ladyblog was found full of lies, of a lot of people the Wayne family knew, but of them and even more of Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Three months and seventeen days later Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood in front of the court, testifying against Delilah Rossi, who was then found guilty for defamation of character of countless of people, of which some of them had led to life-ruining consequences. Delilah Rossi did not stand a chance. This also led to a thorough investigation of one Gabriel Agreste who was found guilty for terrorism, which also resulted in Delilah Rossi found guilty for assisting a terrorist. The known teen model Adrien Agreste who turned out to be the previous superhero Chat Noir was also accused of assisting a known terrorist. All three were sentenced, Delilah Rossi and Gabriel Agreste to a lifetime in prison, Adrien Agreste to three years in prison for being a minor accomplice as well as the continuous sexual harassment of Ladybug, who, after further investigation, revealed herself as the designer Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

A year, a month and three days later, L’Ange de la Gotham was released to the public. It became a massive success. Wayne Enterprises expected to do more collaborations with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the chief designer and founder of MDC, previously known as L’Ange. One Dick Grayson was photographed proposing to the young designer, who then proceeded to scream yes and throw herself at her new fiancé.

Seven months and twenty-one days later MDC changes name to MDCG. A group of young French adults are arrested for trespassing on Dick Grayson and Marinette Dupain-Cheng-Grayson’s private property. These young adults are found to be Mrs. Dupain-Cheng-Grayson’s ex-classmates. They do not press charges for more than trespassing.

Two weeks later the Daily Planet has a new first page article written by newcomer Conner Kent: Marinette Dupain-Cheng-Grayson, a victim of defamation of character by terrorist Delilah Rossi finally opens up about getting attacked by her ex-classmates for years: “It hurt, but I could no longer care less. Justice and karma have been served to them, cold.” The article becomes a hit and the biggest success of the year, winning over even articles of alien attacks, superman, new superheroes and Alya Césaire's downfall.

Through all the years the youngest of the Flying Graysons holds the hand of the upcoming and successful Chinese-French designer MDCG, and neither plan to let go.

Because the other brings them strength.

____

All MariBat tags: @kris-pines04 @thethirdwheelfriend @daminett4life

Taglists open