#mind your business. anyway i love bleachers live it was so much fun and so creative and just good vibes all around 🥺

[crossbackpoke-check]

he’s pointing at the bjuck (boone jenner truck)

[captainmarkone]

Chapter Two. characters: ransom drysdale x reader. warnings: none (for now), slow burn type of thing. summary: Hugh Drysdale is known for being a well known playboy; the only son of real estate mogul Linda Drysdale, the oldest grandson of famed Author and Publisher Harlan Thrombey. Not knowing what real love is, not knowing where and who to get it from until he meets someone... something that could possible change him and his life all together. But it'll take a real good woman to do so. a/n: second installment of this Ransom fic. I hope you all love it. if you see mistakes, no you didn't. this was written on my phone and not thuroughly proofread. whoopsie.

Homecoming Dance was just around the corner and I was the lucky member of staff to be a chaperone. Voluntold as they like to say. I had no choice but to agree. Not like I had anything planned for the weekend, especially Saturday night.

“Tickets will be sold at the day of the dance. And if any one has someone that would like to volunteer for the dance to be a chaperone, please contact me or the principal or even Mr. Levinson,” I said, putting my number up with the principal and Mr. Levinson number.

“Please let them call or text us before Friday, please!” I expressed, the bell ringing. Dismissing the class, I smiled at each one and waved them off.

Sighing softly, I sat down at my desk and sat back against the chair. Spinning slowly toward the board and looking at the names of those that needed to turn in late assignments.

“I’ve gotten four calls in the last hour,” Ari said, sitting at a student desk that was in front of mine. His hands gripping the front of it as he sat. He chuckled softly. “All of them women. But I did say yes to all of them,” he muttered, leaning back against the seat.

I smiled at him, shaking my head as I watched him. “Well aren’t you so lucky. It must be because they think their kids' teacher is very attractive. I haven’t gotten any!” I said, soon hearing my phone vibrate on my desk. Scared me too. “Looks like my luck is about to change!”

“Hello?” I answered, a familiar voice on the other end. “Hu- Ransom! Hi there. You’d like to…. Chaperone? Didn’t peg you for the chaperone type. For a high school homecoming dance,” I teased, I could see Ari lifting his brow.

“Yeah well, I don’t have much to do on a Saturday night,” Ransom said. He did, but he’d much rather get to know her.

“Well, I’ll put your name down. I’ll even use ‘Ransom’ as preferred name,” I said, smiling as I wrote his name down. “Great. Saturday. 5 pm. Sound good?” I confirmed and he answered ‘yes’. “See you then,” I said, hanging up.

Ari looked at me, smiling wide as he let out a soft chuckle. “Was that… you flirting?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

“What? No. He’s cute but no. Agh, maybe. He drove up next to me when I was walking to my car. Said he wanted to make sure I got in my car safely,” I confessed, smiling softly to myself. My eyes glanced at Ari, who was just watching me thoughtfully.

“Seems he might think you’re cute too,” he said, soon standing to his feet and smiled softly. “See you Saturday,” he said, knocking his knuckle on my desk before exiting.

SATURDAY NIGHT --

The weekend had finally rolled by. Every student telling me about their dresses, suits, and other forms of attire they were planning to wear. Some even showing me pictures. I was happy my students were excited to show me, that they liked me enough to share.

Having been sent home to get dressed, I took the opportunity to look nice. After all, Ransom was going to appear. If he did. Shit. He might’ve changed his mind. Decided chaperoning was something dumb to do on a Saturday night.

‘Why are you even worried? Why do you even care? Jeez,’ I thought, shaking my head. The thoughts fleeting as I applied my mascara. Doing the final touches to the natural looking make up I decided to do.

I had dressed in the knee length red dress that had a floral pattern and the sleeves weren’t that long; cutting at the middle of my upper arms, strings tied into a not so perfect bow.

I slipped on my nude, two inch heeled sandal. The one that didn’t have the strap that wrapped around my ankle. Looking myself in the mirror, I fixed my dress. Leaving my bed room, I made it to the front door of my apartment. Unlocking the door and grabbing my small purse in the process. I walked out and made my way down the stairs, happy I only lived on the second floor.

Getting into my car, immediately locking the door, I started it up and leaned against the seat while pulling on my seatbelt.

I made to the school in time, an hour before the gym doors opened for the dance. Getting out of my car, I locked it and rounded the back of my car when I heard someone say my name. Walking up next to me, Ransom slowed. Wearing a tan overcoat, a Persian scarf, and cable knit sweat underneath with slacks for his pants. His shoes a light brown to tie in the tan jacket. I smiled at him, while his lips turned up slightly.

“Wow. You clean up very nice,” I said, smiling warmly. “Wasn’t sure if you were actually gonna show up.”

He tilted his head at me, as if I was joking.

“Only because… who really wants to spend their Saturday night… chaperoning a high school dance,” I explained further, walking with the male toward the entrance of the gym.

“Wasn't too sure, either. Dances were never my thing unless I had a hot date and we hooked up behind the bleachers on the track field,” Ransom said, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched me. His eyes scanning me.

“Well, I definitely owe you one for coming. We only have you and another guy chaperoning today. Most are women. I was voluntold to be here,” I said, chuckling softly as we approached the gym. One of the yearbook committee kids at the table with another person; assuming someone to keep her company.

They greeted me, and I smiled at them. “Hi Maxine. Hi Danny,” I said.

Ransom opened the door for me and I walked in. He was soon beside me again, as if not wanting to get lost. “Don’t worry. It’s very hard to lost in a school like this,” I teased, walking to the large group of women that surrounded the refreshment table.

“All right, I’ll be giving everyone their duties! I have about ten of you. This is great! Oh, hey!” Ari was speaking to the group, waving at me when he saw me. “About time!” He exclaimed, eyes shifting to the male beside me.

“You must be Hugh Drysdale,” Ari said, “I’m Ari Levinson. Welcome!” He continued, looking at the list on his clipboard. I could have sworn I told Ari to call Hugh Ransom.

“It’s Ransom! Don’t call me Hugh,” Ransom said, smirking softly as he eyed Ari that soon shifted his gaze toward me then back to Ransom.

“Sorry man. Ransom. Got it,” Ari confirmed, and I nudged Ransom softly. I smiled and I could see his lips slowly turning into a smile.

Calling my name, Ari said, “I want you and Ransom at the refreshment areas. Around an hour in, we’ll rotate so everyone can get a chance to dance if they’d like to. Vilma,” he continued, telling the other ladies where they’d be.

“You look really beautiful tonight,” Ransom said as we walked around the table to set up the cups of punch. I smiled, letting a small chuckle escape my lips.

“Thank you,” I said, filling the last cup that would fit on the table.

The lights soon dimmed, the DJ playing a song as kids started to flow the gymnasium. Some dancing to the fast beats of the new music, some throwbacks being played. I continued to fill cups of punch, Ransom busy at the side of me and handing out plates of food. From the stage, I saw Ari come up to the mic. “Staff and volunteers, time to switch,” he said, telling the DJ to keep up the good work.

Ransom and I moved to the side as Vilma and Jackie took over the table. We covered the exit nearest us and that’s when a random slow song began to play.

“Wanna dance?” Someone said, and I looked to my left to see a student. Hand extended. “Why it’d be an honor!” I exclaimed, taking it and glancing at Ransom. Making my way to the dance floor with Frankie, I rested my hands on his shoulders as he didn’t quite have a growth spurt just yet. His hands rested in between my hips and waist.

“Sorry kid, but imma cut in. She owes me a dance,” Ransom interjected, hand on the kids shoulder. The kid nodded, stepping to the side and that was when Ransoms moved from my hip to his arm wrapping around my waist, his free hand taking mine and letting my other hand wrap around his neck.

“Why, Hugh. Didn’t know you could dance,” I said, smiling softly as I watched his features lighten.

“Hmm. Dancing is fun when you have someone beautiful as your partner,” he said, and I had to shake my head. Eyes looking into his, hand wrapped in his, my other playing at the hairs at the nape of his neck. It was a surreal moment.

In the corner of my eye, I could see Ari in the corner of the gym. Eyes locked on me. When I made eye contact with him, he smiled and looked away to tend to a task the he saw on his clipboard.

The song soon ended, and we drilled our movements. Eyes staring into his, I licked my lips nervously as his hand moved from my frame and his hand cupped my cheek.

“I don’t know… why or how, but for some reason I couldn’t get you out of my mind,” he muttered, eyes slowly drifting to my lips.

“I know your type Ransom Drysdale. And I will not be played,” I whispered, slowly moving from his trance. “One more dance?” I asked, continuing to play with his hair. He nodded in agreement, pulling me close.

From what I research about Ransom was that he was a playboy, a womanizer. Why was he so sudden in wanting to kiss me (at least I assumed he wanted to)? To be near me? To have his mind filled with thoughts of me? It burned in the back of my head. My guard was up, and it would never come down around Ransom. Not now, anyway.

[bbykpoper]

𝓑𝓵𝓾𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 🦋

Inspired by this post 🌼

Pairing: swimcoach!seonghwa x artist!reader

Warning: sexual content further in the story, read at your own discretion!

Index: Jongho // Hongjoong // San // Yunho // Wooyoung // Mingi // Yeosang

･*:༅

The canvas was covered in smudges of blue paint as you stared at it from your spot on the floor. You were disgusted by your work, by the mere atempt at the whole thing. Your whole being screamed ‘lack-of-inspiration’ and you were fed up with this shit you were trying to achieve. A groan left your lips as your phone started to ring somewhere in the background.

“Hello?” You sounded much more composed than you actually were, seeing as anger was slowly taking over you. 

“Hey, bad time?” The soft voice of your friend came through the phone.

“I don’t know...” You sighed, placing your paint brush on the ground. “I’m not exactly going anywhere with my work.” You looked up your canvas but disregarded it the moment you saw the frustration reflected on it. “Anyways, what’s up?”

“I need a favour.” You could hear the stress in his voice. “I forgot my swim bag at home...”

“How could you forget your swim bag?” You stood up and went over to the room next to yours and that’s when you noticed it. “You haven’t slept at home have you?”

“Maybe.” A silence passed over the speaker. “Can you bring it over please? I’m pretty sure Park will have my head either way, but I’d at least like to be prepared.”

“Sure Chan, but don’t come crying when JIhyo comes after you.” You giggled, grabbing the bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Dang, this is heavy.”

“Sorry again.” He spoke now guilt lacing his words.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. We’re friends. And I do need a break from just blindly throwing paint on my canvases.” You giggled along with him. “I’ll be over in an hour or so. I hope Park doesn’t kill you by then.”

“So do I.”

Your steps were quick down the stairs of your loft appartment which led to the small florist shop underneath it. You passed by Yeosang who greeted you with a smile and grabbed the pair of keys from the back room. Jihyo was currently serving a customer as you hurriedly ran past them.

“I’m borrowing your car for a short while.” 

“Did Chan forget something again?” She asked while she prepared the bouquet for the customer.

“His swim bag.” And you left the store.

You’ve lived with your two best friends, the very scary yet beautiful florist Park Jihyo and forgetful playboy Bang Chan, since freshman year of college. You guys were well adults now, doing your own thing but still living together above Jihyo’s flower shop. Chan worked as an assistant swim coach at the local college swim team and he enjoyed his job drilling those poor students the best he could. Jihyo opened her flower shop during her last year of college and has been working there with Yeosang ever since. And you? You held art exhibitions from time to time, selling some paintings here and there. 

The ride to the local college was uneventful as you parked the car and made your way towards the pool. Students stood around, some going to class, some studying in the soft breeze and others just casually chatting with each other. With a small smile you entered the pool area, squeaking in surprise when a group of girls shuffled passed you annoyed.

“Are you okay?” A voice spoke, pulling you out of the way so the girls wouldn’t stomp all over you. “Sorry about them, they get angry when I tell them to leave practice so that the boys can focus.”

“It’s okay. They surprised me is all.” You sighed, looking up at the blond man who helped you out. “Thanks Park.” You beamed up at him.

Park Seonghwa was the main coach for the college swim team and technically Chan’s boss. He was also friends with Yeosang and you’ve known him since college. He was a nice guy with you, sometimes holding danger in his eyes but overall he was just soft with you.

“What brings you here?” He asked as you two entered towards the pools.

“Chan forgot his swim bag.” You looked at the unamused expression Seonghwa had on his face from the corner of your eye and only giggled now fully facing him. “Don’t be too harsh on him. He’ll get a much more doom filled talk when he comes back home from Jihyo.”

“I sure do hope so. He’s really become irresponsible as of lately.” The blond muttered.

“He’s just going through some stuff.” You sighed noticing Chan sitting on the bleachers, his mind wandering. “I’ll just give him the bag and leave. I won’t hold up practice for you guys.”

You ran over to your friend, flicking his fore head to bring him back to the land of the living. He looked up at you and smiled, taking the bag off your shoulder and throwing it on the ground. He pulled out a pack of baby wipes and started gently rubbing off some paint you had on your cheek.

“You have baby wipes?” You asked, closing your eye so he doesn’t peck it out.

“Of course! I have to take care of my struggling artist.” He giggled with you. “Jihyo has some too in her bag for these exact reasons.”

“Thanks.” You nodded your head as Seonghwa joined you two.

“Get dressed Bang, I’m gonna need your help today more than so.” He said, his eyes not amused by the exchange of affection you two displayed.

“Yes sir!” He said and got up to go. “Thanks for bringing this over y/n.” 

“No problem!” You yelled out after him as he waved goodbye to you.

“Are you guys like dating yet or not?” Seonghwa muttered out lowly but you still caugh on.

“You know Chan and I are just roommates. And he has this undying crush on Jihyo not me.” You sighed looking after his frame. “It’s sad that she now has a boyfrined and he’s alone, but at the same time it’s his own fault for not saying something to her on time.” You looked over at Seonghwa and shrugged your shoulders. “Love’s harsh in that way I guess.”

You turned to leave so that you won’t bother their job anymore and noticed how the boys in the pool looked to be having fun as they splashed each other. It made you smile when Seonghwa blew his whistle fiercly telling them to do a few laps to warm up. That whole picture gave you an idea but you couldn’t exactly place your finger on it. 

Something was missing.

“Good luck Park.” You waved him goodbye and left.

･*:༅

Waiting in line for coffee at Sugarberry’s you and Jihyo chatted along your mind wandering a bit. You were scared for the upcoming days because you had a gallery show in about two months but only had half of the pieces done. 

“You’re still struggling with your art?” Jihyo asks as she pays for your coffee.

“Yeah. I can’t seem to find inspiration anywhere...” You sigh and give her a thanks for your coffee. “I don’t even know where to look.”

“Well, the bookshop down the street has something like a poetry night. Maybe you’ll get inspired by some words?” 

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“What’s not a bad idea?” Chan suddenly grabbed you both by the shoulder, pulling you in for a bear hug.

“Poetry night.” Jihyo answered with a huff.

“Sounds boring.”

“I may find my inspiration there.” You giggled out. “Wanna come with?”

“Sorry y/n, but Daniel is coming back from his business trip so I’m going over to his house.” Jihyo apologised and you saw Chan’s mood darken a bit.

“What about you Chan?” 

“Poetry ain’t for me.” He simply stated. 

“Aww, I guess I’ll go alone.” You sighed trying to get the two with your puppy eyes. “Not working?”

“No, sorry.” Both answered.

From the corner of your eye you saw something blue fluttering around and your friends also turned to look at you at the same time. They followed your gaze and were also mesmerized with the creature floating around you suddenly.

“A blue butterfly?” You whispered out the quesiton as it landed on your head. “And it landed on me!”

“I’ve never seen a blue one before.” Jihyo commented.

“Where’d you come from little guy?” Chan brought his face close to your head.

“You’ll scare the butterfly away.” The waitress laughed as she came over to you three. “It’s a rare sight. Blue ones aren’t that common.”

“You know, they say that if you wish upon one it may come true.” She said with a smile. “You better make a wish before it flies off.”

As she left you looked up at the winged creature on your bangs and smiled, whispering out a small wish. 

I wish to find inspiration again.

The butterfly flewed off in the direction of the exit of the outside terace of the caffe and you noticed Seonghwa walking in with two other boys. His eyes caught yours and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. He wasn’t expecting to see you all together. The small creature circled the blond man and disappeared into the skies. And in that moment it clicked to you. The inspiration was there for you all the time. 

It was in Park Seonghwa.

“I see you still like Irish coffee.” He chuckled at your half dazed gaze at him.

“I haven’t stopped.” You laughed as his friends entered the shop. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” He stopped in his tracks.

“This may sound weird, but bear with me for a moment.” You sighed as your friends walked up a bit so they could let you talk to him in private. “I want to draw you, but like would you be willing to let me draw you?”

“I know it’s a weird request, but I finally found my inspiration in you.” You blushed at the last bit. “And I’d like to explore it fully if you’ll let me.”

“To draw me?” He thought for a second, his eyes following your every reaction. It was fascinating to him how you still looked on at him in wonder, since college to now. “Why not? I think It will be fun.”

“Really?” You were surprised at the answer.

“Yeah.” He smiled at your happy expression.

“Awesome!” You exclaimed. “You know where we live right?”

“Yeah, I took Chan home enough after drunken nights to know.” He laughed out. “Does Wednesday sound good?” 

“Yeah. Come by whenever you’re free.” You said excited and jumped over to your friends. “Oh and Seonghwa?” He looked after you. It was the first time since college that you said his name. “Thanks.”

･*:༅

A sharp knock on your front door got you to your feet from your position and you went to open it, revealing a cool looking Seonghwa. He was neatly dressed in a jumper and some washed out jeans, his hair still a bit wet from his job. You let him in with a smile and he placed his shoes by yours, entering the small appartment.

He noticed how the living room was cozy with a simple couch, a few swinging chairs hanging off the ceilings and flowers scattered around. The kitchen was close by warm as ever and four more doors decorated the walls. He noticed how every door was painted over except for one.

“Interesting doors.” He said observing them.

“Right?” You giggled. “When we first moved in Jihyo had this idea for me to paint the doors of our rooms with something that represents each of us. That’s why her door has so much flowers, Chan’s has the coast of Australia and if you look closely I tried painting him on a surfboard but failed miserably, and my door has the view of the Eifel tower because I feel like that’s something every artist needs.” You shrugged your shoulders and led him into your room.

Your canvas and paints have been prepared neatly in front of your bed and Seonghwa took notice just how artistic your room was. Especially the floor with all the paint splotches covering it.

“Ignore the floor.” You said as you noticed him looking at it. “I tried scrubbing it off but it didn’t exactly work so I just gave up.”

“Nah, I think it’s kind of cool. It gives this room your personal touch.” He laughed and went over to sit on your bed. “So how do you want me?”

“Um well, can you lay on the bed? But like sideways. Propt by your elbow. Maybe one leg up too.” You went over to position him as you thought right and Seonghwa felt his breath hitch when you went to touch his shoulder. 

It was a feather touch, just enough to let his jumper slide off his shoulder but it got him all hot and bothered. You were so focused that you didn’t pay attention to any of his expressions while you were this close to him, only looking up when you went back to your canvas.

“This is perfect.” You said with a smile. “I’ll just sketch this out today.”

As you said that you plopped a blueberry from your bedside table into your mouth and went on to your work. The man just observed you and enjoyed this silence which was much needed after a long work day.

The hours passed and you noticed that Seonghwa was eyeing the bowl of blueberries on your table. You laughed out loud when you caught his off guard as you threw one at him.

“If you want some just take them.” You said and handed him the bowl. “I don’t bite if you want some.”

As Seonghwa took the bowl your whole perspective changed and it was then that something hit your heartstrings like a truck.

“Keep the bowl.” Is all you said and rearranged your sketch.

“You like blueberries?” He asked, filling the room with his deep voice.

“They’re my focus berries.” You answered laughing along with him at your words. “They help me focus.”

The comfortable silence which filled the room coated your being with warmth as you continued to do an outline. Chan came home not long after and greeted you both, but locked himself in his room and you sighed. 

“Is he okay?” Seonghwa asked.

“He will be.” You shrugged your shoulders and looked over at the time, jumping to your feet and startling the man. “Oh no, I’ll be late.”

And you remembered he was still in the room with you and you blushed in embarrassement with everything.

“I wanted to go to the poetry night at the bookshop and it’s starting soon.” You said with a small head scratch. “I hope you don’t mind if I cut our session here.”

“Not at all.” He said sitting up and watching you grab a jacket and some stuff so you can leave. “Would you mind if I tag along?”

･*:༅

“That was so beautiful.” You whispered out as the poetry night came to an end. “Those romance poems really have my hands tingling. I can’t wait to get back and start painting.” You sighed in content, finally coming back with a new found inspiration. “Jihyo was right, I needed this.”

“I’m glad.” Seonghwa stated as he walked beside you.

“But that still doesn’t change the fact that I want to paint you.” You stuck your tongue out at him. “Same time next week?”

“Sure.” 

You walked up the steps to your appartment and went back into your room, getting a new canvas out and happily getting lost in your thing. The days passed and so did a month, the painting of Seonghwa almost finished. You guy became much closer friends over this period and he was actually amazed at how well you drew. Today was the last day of working on his painting and just as you finished, you took the canvas to the kitchen so it could dry. 

“We’re done.” You said as you went to get your brushes.

“Awesome, can I see it?” He asked.

“Nope. You have to come to my gallery show to see it!” You excitedly waved one of your brushes and it sploshed some blue paint onto his face. You snorted out a laugh. “Sorry.”

“Well, I guess it’s okay.” He looked next to him and quickly took a brush and placed a large dot of black on your own cheek. “Now we’re even.” 

The huff of surprise you let out was followed by a giggle and a battle of paint broke out between you two. Even one of your blank canvases was now fully covered in greens, bluess, reds and some whites. Seonghwa splashed some paint on your uncovered back and the play time stopped.

“Seonghwa! How will I wash this off now?” You laughed thinking how Chan was out for the night and Jihyo was spending the weekend with her boyfriend.

“Come on, I’ll help you.” He laughed along going to the bathroom.

You followed after him, moving your hair from the way so he could easily access your back. As you did, the strap of your shirt fell off your shoulder and it had the blond man gulping with nerves. He was very gentle in rubbing off the paint, easily cleaning it from your skin. On the other hand, you were blushing like crazy, heat spreading through your body.

“Hey.” He whispered out. “Why were you so scared of me in college? Whenever I hung out with Chan you’d run away from me.”

His touch made you shiver and you know he noticed. 

“I wasn’t scared.” You whispered back. “I was just shy. I had this huge crush on you but didn’t act on it because I thought you didn’t like me like that...” You sighed. “I still do.”

You felt the feathery kiss on your exposed shoulder.

“There was a whole magnificent soul burning brightly behind her shy.” 

The whisper was close to your ear and you turned around, your heart hammering away in your ribcage. His eyes were tender, but there was hidden lust in them, something you didn’t notice before. Even though he had it all the while while looking at you. 

“Have you ever wondered why I never had a girlfriend throughout college? Or even now?” His fingers travelled down your back, the touch leaving fire in it’s wake.

“Rumors were that you were a playboy.”

“I’ve had my fair share of hook-ups, but only because I couldn’t have the one girl I really wanted.” 

“You really wanted to have sex with me?” You turned around, raising your eyebrow. “I’m not the type to do this one night.”

“I know, and I really don’t want to.” He came closer to you now, your noses touching. “I want to fuck you everyday, the whole day.” His breath faned over your face. “How does that sounds?”

“Tempting.” You whispered back. “But we’re covered in paint.”

“A minor set back which can be washed off.” He chuckled, pulling you even closer than before, his hands landing on your hips. “Care to join.”

In slow motion his hands brushed against your skin, pulling your shirt over your head. His hands made their way behind your back and climbed up to reach your bram skillfully unhooking it, all while not breaking eye contact with you. The minute his breath hit your neck, you tugged on his shirt, his smirk striking as he stepped back to take it off.

“You enjoying the view baby?” 

“Are you?” With a strong tug you unbuckled his belt.

“Well look who’s been working out.” He laughed, grabbing the waistband of your jeans. “You’ll have to slow down a bit baby, we still have some paint to wash off.”

Soon enough you were both standing in the shower, the hot water pooling by your legs in a specter of colours. He kissed along your jaw, his hot kisses left stings on your body as the electricity transferred from his mouth to your skin. Your shoulders were now stained blue and purple, the bulge which was his dick now struggling against your ass. You moaned and whimpered at the same time when his hands wandered down your body towards your folds, that ticklish feeling becoming stronger as he teased your clit. 

“God, I can’t take it anymore y/n.” He breathed out as he pressed you closer to him, his hardness growing even more. “I need you.” He mumbled into your ear. “I want you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Your hazed eyes looked back at him as you stepped on your toes to give him better access.

He didn’t hesitate, he thurst in full strength, the surprise and pleasure filling you fully. The moan which followed made him shiver with something so unknown that his heart skipped a beat.

“Oh my God.” He groaned, hips coming to meet yours full force. “This is, uh, fuck, you’re perfect.” He stuttered. “You just feel so fucking good.” The breathlessness he was showcasing was matched with your loud moans which you were sure Yeosang could hear downstairs.

“H-Hwa...” The groan which left his throat grumbled in your abdomen how strong it was. “F-Faster, I need to take you whole!”

His eyes rolled to the back of his head. He couldn’t believe you would say something like that. Hell, he never imagined he’d have the chance to fuck your brains out like this. 

He pulled almost fully out of you, pausing for a moment only to slip back into your core, a moan erupting from both of your throats. You could feel him inside of you, moving along the ridges of your core and giving you that electric feeling deep inside of the pit of your stomach. He leaned down, bitting on your shoulder as he thrusted into your lower half. He was getting faster, harder, and rougher, and still, it wasn’t enough. His hand came to slap your ass harshly, your walls tightening around him as a result.

“You like that baby.” His shit eating grin had you pulling him into a kiss.

He hooked one of his arms under your leg to get a better angle, pushing you up against the glass doors of your shower, your boobs becoming more sensitive with the cold friction provided.

“I’m really close Hwa.” You cried out.

It’s a mess. Loud. Wet. Uncomfortable. But the high rippling through your body makes it all up to you.

“The way you moan my name has me going places y/n.” He whispered in your ear, pushing your leg up higher and reaching your sweet spot. The way your leg shook had Seonghwa smile to himself knowing he was making you feel like this. When your eyes made contact with his, when he saw just how fucked you were, and when a whimper of his name left your lips... Seonghwa went crashing down. His thursts were so good you let yourself go, tightening around him and cumming with a squeaze of your eyes. 

Seonghwa lost his footing and fell with you on top of him, hitting so deep he released his seed inside of you, making you spasm all over. 

The water came over you much stronger than before and you noticed from your tired vision that as you both fell, you broke the handles and the water wasn’t going to stop soon.

“Fuck...” You layed back onto him, letting his dick fall out of you and the jizz to come out your throbbing hole. “This will be fun to explain to Chan.”

“It’s okay, I know how to fix it.” He said his breathing barely coming back to normal. “I’m sorry I came inside you... It wasn’t my intention.”

“I’m on the pill so we’re good.” You huffed out tired. “Though I’d like a nap.” 

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up and I’ll fix the shower head while you take a nap.” He helped you up and you giggled.

“I hope we can have more of these.” You commented.

“More accidents in the shower?” He laughed.

“More sex.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” He came up to you and kissed you on the lips. “We will.”

･*:༅

“But y/n, that painting could make hundreds of thousands of won!” Daniel yelled after you as you walked the gallery halls. “Come on, you have to sell it!”

“Daniel, for the last time.” You turned to him, glaring daggers at his pleading eyes. “I’m not selling the painting of my boyfriend to anybody!” 

With a huff you walked up to Jihyo and Chan as he followed after you. You pleaded with her to stop her stupid boyfriend before you commited a crime and she was quick to put him in his place.

“Why don’t you deal of the rest of my paintings? Why must you target that one?”

“Because you can feel the emotion you put into it.” He whined.

“Yes, and that’s why it will hang in my living room.” An arm snaked around your waist and a kiss was placed on your shoulder. “Please stop trying to sell me off.”

Daniel grumbled but pulled back. You greeted Seonghwa’s friends as they scattered around the hall, enjoying your pieces which hung off the walls. Seonghwa turned to look at the picture in which he laid on your bed, surrounded by sunlight and your many knick-nacks, one hand holding the bowl of blueberries and the other plopping one into his mouth. The most intense gaze staring back at him.

“What made you consider me to be your main piece?” He asked you suddenly.

“I wished upon a blue butterfly and you happened to walk in.” You smiled at him. “I guess that waitress was right.” Your eyes held so much affection for him. “I found my inspiration in you.”

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Chapter 6: A Room with a View

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Words: 3,359

Warnings: Swearing, slut shaming, death mention, crying

Author’s Note: So, I already answered this, but just in case anyone missed it: I update this series weekly and I am still editing the vast majority of chapters! Sorry if it’s coming out slower than expected!

Tags: @divinity-deos @wolfish-willow​ @scoopsohboi​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @herre-gud-nej​ @clockworkballerina​ @maddie1504​ @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary​ @buckysarge​ @wildcvltre​ @stanleyyelnatsiii​ @n3wtscaseofniffler5​ @peterparxour @linkispink1995​ @a-big-ball-of-idk​ @used-avocado​ @mochminnie​ @sledgy14​ @the-creative-lie​ @yall-wildin-like-siriusly​ @ggclarissa​ @voidnarnia​ @anonymousonion23 

Steve had no idea what he’d done wrong. Not a clue. But you were ignoring him. You sat farther away from him in English the past two days, and you’d been blowing off plans with him. You’d say that you had other plans, but he’d see you sat on the bleachers after school, watching the girls soccer practise or drawing in that book again. He still didn’t know what you were doing in that book and he was irritated by the fact that he could see you sat in your room some days, caught in a lie without knowing it, your nose caught in the pages in front of you, pencil in between your teeth, focused but unaware of an audience. Steve could see right into your room from his when your curtains were open and you often sat at your desk, working in your pads.

On the day that Mr. Lawrence announced the start for the final essay, Steve had had enough. It had been a week of this behaviour and he felt as though he deserved an answer. And he was sick of watching through the window. Tommy and Carol were busy every damn day chasing Billy Hargrove, Vicki had gone back after him too after their awful date, and Tina wasn’t his friend. Sure, he could bug Dustin, but that made him feel like such a loser. His only friends were a rag tag group of preteens and a weird girl who wouldn’t even talk to him! This was getting pathetic.

The bell rang before Steve could make his move and you were out the door before he could even open his mouth. Tina rolled her eyes as she passed him by, grabbing Tina’s arm to whisper loudly “God, how tragic.” making Vicki cackle loudly.

Steve booked it out the door, scanning the halls for you, but you’d already disappeared from sight. He spotted Samantha, but she was on the retreat. He chose not to chase her down, they’d never even had a conversation before and using her to try to get her to spill on her friend felt a bit shitty. So he decided to just take a walk, no harm in a walk, it was a nice day anyway, out by the field. He wandered out the gym doors by the car park. He shoved his hands into his blue workman’s jacket. The weather was still a bit too chilly to go without a coat, but the sunshine made it easier.

He spotted you and Samantha at the top of the bleachers. You had your hair up that day and your lavender bomber jacket draped around your shoulders. Carol had something similar, or maybe it was Tina, he couldn’t remember which one the pair blurred into one being in his mind.

Samantha caught Steve’s eye before you did. She leaned over to you with a smirk “Lover boy’s watching.” She whispered cheekily, pointing slyly at him.

You turned immediately. Steve was standing in the car park, a few smattering of folks on car hoods, eating packed lunches and watching the scene go down. He waved, taking a step towards you. You turned your attention away.

Samantha was baffled. A week ago, you were telling her all about the weird fun you were having with him, all smiles and laughter, and now you wouldn’t even look at him for more than a second. You wouldn’t admit it, but Samantha knew that he was something more than a friend to you. Nobody was this upset when someone cancelled plans.

Steve turned away without a word. He wanted to scream at you, his mind demanding to know what he had done wrong. He made a plan that afternoon, one he was certain might ruin everything for him.  

As soon as the three o’clock bell rang, Steve made a mad dash for his car. He didn’t leave immediately; instead he waited to see an expected sight. Once he saw you huddled and headed for the bleachers, he was sure that the girl’s team was practising. Then he drove off towards home, parking in his own driveway. His mother was home, a shock to him, but he still headed upstairs. The next part was tricky. He’d time out that practise ended at four thirty, but that you usually left at four since the walk was so long. At four twenty, he headed across the street. As always, the yellow Volkswagen sat in the driveway. He’d rarely ever seen it leave the driveway, but it gave him hope that someone was inside the house. You couldn’t be living alone as a senior. He bounded up the front steps, knocking on the door twice. He was nervous, switching his weight from his toes to his heels in a rocking motion forward and back, forward and back.

An older man opened the door. He had to be in his eighties, with age spots speckling him around his eyes like a second pair of wide frames behind his tortoise shell glasses.  He seemed suspicious of Steve, although that was probably because he was staring.

“Hello,” he stuck out his hand for the man to shake “I’m Steve Harrington, I’m a friend of Y/N.” the man didn’t take his hand, staying silent as he looked him over.

Steve pressed on “I was wondering if she was home, we were supposed to study together today and she said that she’d call when she got home but I haven’t heard from her.” He chuckled awkwardly.

From behind the old man, a woman’s voice called “Harold, who’s there?”

“One of Y/N’s friends, she home yet?” he called back, opening the door wider. Steve could see the pale yellow walls, sun stained from the large three panel window at the front of their house.

Steve watched as an older woman hobbled into the scene, back hunched and skin thin. She looked frail, her hair dyed to what Steve assumed was its original shade, her grey roots visible from the top of her head. She greeted Steve with a warm smile. Steve was quick to offer his hand to shake, which she took carefully. “Hi, Steve Harrington, it’s nice to meet you both.” He said quickly, smiling brightly at the pair.

“Well hello there, I’m Maude and this is Y/N’s grandfather Harold, it’s lovely to meet you.” She said sweetly. “Why don’t you come inside, Y/N should be home any minute.”

Maude hit Harold’s arm roughly and he let go of the door, letting Steve into the house. He quickly kicked off his shoes, noting the pair’s socked feet. He looked around the house. Every house on the street was one of three standard box deals, with specified details. His parents hadn’t paid for the window seat like your family had, but you didn’t have the open kitchen that his did; an extra yellow wall separated the space. He looked to the fireplace, an exact copy of his family’s before their renovation last august. He missed the grey brick they used to have. You had a large family portrait on the mantle. You were sat in the centre in your Sunday best, your grandparents flanking the outside, two other adults stood closest to you. Steve assumed they were your parents. You looked like your father.

“You have a lovely home,” he said, turning his attention to the pair who were watching him intently.

“Thank you.” Maude smiled “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Sure.” Steve wasn’t much for tea, but he was taught not to refuse something offered by his host. Maude hurried off, leaving him and grumpy old Harold alone.

“Y/N doesn’t bring boys around.” Harold announced when his wife was out of the room. Steve didn’t really know what to say to that, luckily he continued “So what’re you trying to do with my girl?”

“Study,” Steve said with a shrug. The man scoffed, but Steve pressed on. “She’s my partner for our English final, we’re supposed to be working on it today, it’s due soon.”

Harold nodded gruffly “Alright…” he took a seat on the couch, turning the volume back on. The Love Boat was on, a rerun of the episode with guest stars the Captain and Tennille, and Steve was certain that they’d both seen it before.

Maude came in with a tray, handing her husband a mug. It was hand painted, thick script reading ‘Happy Father’s Day’ on the front, the year 1974 written in smaller script underneath in blue paint. She handed him a plain white mug.

“Well, Steve, you’re free to go and wait for Y/N upstairs, her room is two doors to the right of the stairs, you can’t miss it.” She said, gesturing to the stairwell. Steve bid his thanks and headed up the wide carpeted stairwell.

Harold mumbled something to his wife that Steve couldn’t hear, only catching her response. “He’s young, he doesn’t want to sit with us old folks.” She laughed at her own joke and Steve smiled at their friendly banter. They reminded him of his aunt and uncle, they always joked in that sort of way, laughing at themselves before anyone else. It made him feel as if he were at home in the house; he was comforted by the casualness of existence.

Maude was right that the room was impossible to miss. The door was covered in childlike butterflies painted in purple puffy paint. When he opened the bedroom door, he was transported into a small, private art gallery. The room was covered wall to wall in fabric canvases, canvas boards, and paper sketches. Your desk was covered in paint splotches and doodles carved into the wood, there were glow in the dark stars and moons on the blades of your ceiling fan. You’d painted your ceiling into a buttery sunset. It was as if for the first time, Steve was seeing all of you. And you were absolutely incandescent.

His hands went to roam your shelves, filled with sketchbooks and art books and worn copies of the classics. Greedily, he grabbed the first black sketchbook he found its pages heavy and curled. A piece of masking tape on the cover read ‘Still Life, 1980’ in black Sharpie. He flipped over the cover. Every page was the same bowl of fruit, some plain sketches, some painted in acrylics or water colours, but the fruit changed in shape and structure with every flip, rotting more with each sketch until the image switched to a vase of sunflowers, a prim and proper version of the Van Gogh he’d seen a print of in his freshman year art class. He wondered if you’d been there, silently making your own master pieces. He wondered how many masterpieces you had hidden away in your big black book.

The door opened behind him before he could put the sketch book away. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?” you snapped, bounding towards him. When your grandmother told you that your friend from school was upstairs waiting for you, you had a sinking feeling that you knew who it was. And seeing him rifling through your things made your blood boil.

Steve turned slowly, unsure what to say. You snatched the pad out of his hands “And who the fuck gave you permission to look at my stuff, you pervert!” You knew that he hadn’t done anything actually perverted, but you still felt violated.

“I can’t get you to talk to me, I figured coming here would at least make you see me.” Steve laughed a bit, unable to even process what was happening. In the back of his mind, he thought that this would be an effortlessly cool way to go about a solution. Like you’d see him in your room and think ‘wow…what an effort that was…’ Instead, you were furious.

“So, you thought that coming into my house without telling me, lying to my grandparents, and touching my stuff would make it better.” You raised an eyebrow, shoving your sketchbook onto the shelf.

“What was I supposed to do? You won’t answer my calls, you won’t talk to me, I can’t get you to look at me for more than a second and all I want to know is what I did wrong so I can fix it!” Steve cried, words tumbling out of his mouth. You both stared at each other for a moment, surprised by each other, your mouth hanging silently ajar.

You closed it fast, swallowing before speaking “You…you hurt my feelings.” You said softly, pushing past him to put distance between you, standing next to your desk and the window.

“How did I hurt your feelings?” Steve asked quietly, watching you carefully even as you stared defiantly out the window.

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest “You cancelled our plans. For Vicki.”

“So?” Steve asked.

“So, I don’t cancel on you. I never cancel on you, especially not the day of. It hurt my feelings.” You explained, picking at a bit of lint on your sweater.

“Yeah, but I…” he tried to catch himself before he said something terrible, but you already knew what filled in the blank.

“What? You have more friends than me? Is that it?” you snapped. It was Steve’s turn to look away, but you pressed on. “You’re right, you do have more friends than me. But don’t act like I don’t have a social life without you. I do. Do you know how many games of Samantha’s I’ve skipped out on to help you study? How many practises she’s asked me to come and watch that I’ve said no to because I already had plans with you?”

“I don’t know…” Steve muttered. Embarrassment crept up his face. He felt like such a dick. In truth he had forgotten about your plans that day in the excitement of a date with Vicki. With hindsight in full effect he could see that he would’ve had twice as much fun with you eating greasy burgers then he did with Vicki driving around Hawkins.

“Well, it’s been a lot. And it’s not the fact that you went out with Vicki that upset me, you are free to date whoever you want. But can you please at least tell me if you’re cancelling a little sooner than mere minutes before?” you asked, your voice cracking on the end.

“Sure, yeah of course. I should’ve been doing that before.” Steve stumbled over his words to apologize.

“Okay.” You nodded “Now, why are you going through my shit?”

“I wanted to see more. This whole room is incredible.” Steve breathed, plopping down on your mattress.

“You think?” you asked quietly. In truth, you didn’t think that you were that good of an artist. You loved art, but you didn’t think you were exactly talented.

“It’s so cool!” you couldn’t help but laugh, or else you’d cry. Nobody ever talked about your art with such enthusiasm. Teachers only criticized mistakes and your mother and grandparents saw it as clutter. Samantha liked some stuff but she didn’t talk about it much. Even a simple compliment from Steve made you want to cry. You covered your mouth to avoid the tears.

Steve didn’t seem to notice, wandering the room to point out pieces he thought were interesting. He pointed to a canvas depicting the quarry. You’d camped out there one night in the summer; drawing until the sun fades out of the sky and then painting it out once you had it exactly right. “This one is just insane I mean it looks like it’s going to eat you whole, like it has teeth or something.” He exclaimed.

“You can have it.” You replied quickly.

Steve shook his head “No, I couldn’t I mean don’t you want it? For college apps or something?” he couldn’t take it, he’d feel too guilty.

You shrugged “I have enough stuff for at least three portfolios, you should have that one if you like it so much. It’ll make your room cooler.”

“Hey, my room is cool.” Steve pouted, making you laugh harder. He liked your laugh, it split your whole face open into a smile. And your smile looked as if it sat on a bed of clouds. He wanted to float along with it forever.

“Oh yeah, your pee wee t-ball participation trophy is real slick, it gets you all the chicks.” You drawling, bouncing on your mattress.

“Hey, you didn’t run when you saw it.” Steve shrugged, sitting down next to you.

“Eh, your baby sports escapades don’t frighten me. It adds character to know that you suck at something.” You replied. Steve thought briefly of the bat in his trunk and the weight of it mid-swing, connecting with a heavy skull. Better with a bat now then he was as an elementary schooler.

You both lay back on the mattress, staring up at the slowly turning fan. Steve turned to you “What’d you think of Vicki anyway?” he asked.

“Honestly?” Steve nodded “I think she’s a bitch.” Steve laughed loudly but you pressed on “She is! She’s so mean for no reason!”

“Yeah, she’s not cool. She spent our whole date bitching about people, saying a lot of shit about you.” Steve murmured.

“What’d you…” you didn’t know if you could ask how he responded. You bit your tongue before finishing the sentence.

Steve understood anyway “I told her the truth. That you’re a really cool chick and that she shouldn’t be such a bitch about people she doesn’t know.” He said simply, turning his attention back to the slowly moving stars.

You didn’t necessarily believe that he actually defended you. Still, you didn’t feel like arguing. Steve continued on in your silence. “So, do you live with your grandparents’ full time? Or do your parents just work?” he asked.

“Both,” you sighed softly “My mom’s not home very much so they take care of me. She’s a fashion photographer, travels all over the world for different magazines.”

“What about your dad?” Steve asked. He’d seen a younger man in the photo; he assumed that it was some kind of father figure.

“He died.” You muttered.

“Oh…” Steve didn’t know how to react to that. He wasn’t sure if he should apologize.

“She killed him.” You couldn’t help yourself from saying that. Anger still stewed into your bones whenever you thought about your parents.

“What?” Steve to fully look at you, flabbergasted.

“She worked him to death. She always wanted more and farther away from us. Trips to Europe, designer things, this stupid house. She killed him.” You wiped hard at your face, trying to keep the hot tears from streaming down your face. Steve didn’t say anything, he simply pulled you into his chest, holding you tightly into him and letting you cry. He patted your hair gently, trying to soothe you as best he could. He didn’t think he was very good at helping people in their pain. But you grabbed onto his middle and clung to him like a life raft.

“My parents aren’t that great either.” He muttered, unsure if he was helping at all. “They ignore me.”

“I-I’m sorry they do that…” you muttered, looking up at him with wide, wet eyes. Steve melted. He absolutely melted. He was filled with the sudden urge to kiss you, which surprised him. He didn’t follow through with the urge; he didn’t know how you’d take it.

“I’m sorry he’s not here for you…” he replied, petting your hair softly. He stayed with you like that for what felt like hours, letting you cling to him and ruin his shirt with tears. He didn’t care. He needed to be there for you. He promised himself that he wouldn’t hurt you again. That he’d be more careful and pay more attention. He couldn’t bear to see you in this much pain again. He knew that you weren’t crying because of him, but if he could keep you from feeling even an ounce of this sort of pain again, he would.

He cared about you too much to ever let you suffer alone again.

[keichan]

Running Through the Night Tsukishima x fem!reader Part 10: It’s a Forever Thing

You and Tsukishima have been friends for as long as you two could remember. With a very unexpected confession, how will this affect you two?

Authors note: It’s been a pleasure writing this story for you guys, with it being my first on this sight, I’m very proud of it

Check out my new SMAU written by me  @pipsqweaks​ TANAKA INK’D SMAU

Word count: 1876

Genre: college au, unrequited love, angst, best friends to lovers, fluff somewhere in there, mutual pining

Warnings: manga time skip!!! FLUFFFFFF,, swearing

Please follow me to keep up with my upcoming projects! I’m now accepting requests for headcannons and drabbles!

masterlist・previous・next

“Honestly I think you should wear that shirt that Hinata got you from, Rio! It’s super cute!”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m being completely serious. I think it’ll really show him your support at the match tonight.”

“I’m taking Hiro for a walk if you’re gonna keep acting like this.” With a sigh Kei placed a leash onto the dog's collar and waved goodbye before leaving the house. Worth a shot.

You and Kei walked into Sendai City gymnasium hand in hand with Yamaguchi in tow. 

“Tsukki! I’m gonna go get food, do you want anything?”

“Yeah, just grab Y/N and I whatever looks good.”

“Okay!”

The two of you made way to your seats in the stadium. It was packed to the brim. It was the beginning of the season and a lot of fans usually came out to support the Adelers and Jackals specifically. 

Kei let go of your hand to begin flipping through the pamphlet of the players today. He looked tense as usual. If you were being honest, you couldn’t tell if he wanted either Hinata or Kageyama to win the match.

“Tsukki! I got them! And it was Osamu from the Miya twins, isn’t that amazing? Anyways, do you want a beer? I saw a vender walking the isles.” Yamaguchi waved with Yachi standing closely behind him. 

Without looking up Kei retorted. “No, I only drink kahlūa and milk. And I refuse to drink with anyone who doesn’t appreciate kahlūa and milk.” 

Yamaguchi and Yachi stood up slightly straighter and the three of you all gave each other a knowing look before you elbowed Kei in the ribs.

“What was that for?”

“You could’ve just said no thank you.”

“What’s the fun in that?” He smiled before leaning over to kiss your forehead. 

You shrugged before waving the two over to sit by the two of you.

“Be kind.”

Your heart swelled with joy to see the Jackals had won the game. Hinata finally was able to claim his victory over Kageyama. You impatiently dragged Kei down to the court to meet him and Kageyama and other players that the two of you have gotten to meet in your high school years. 

“Slow down. I don’t see what the fuss is about, we’ll see them regardless.” Kei muttered under his breath. You gave him a quick pout over your shoulder making him roll his eyes. He interlaced his fingers with yours and held you back for the crowds to pass. 

“OH MY GOD IS THAT Y/N????”

Immediately a sweaty man's arms wrapped around you and pulled you away from Kei. Your eyesight was immediately clouded with orange hair. You immediately hug him back as he teeters you back and forth on your heels. 

You hold him out at arms width.

“Hinata!!! You did so good! I can’t believe you trained yourself to be a leftie! That was the best game I’ve ever seen!”

Hinata flashed you a vibrant smile before peering over your shoulder to see Kei, Yamaguchi, and Yachi. With one arm still on your shoulder, he used his other hand to wave hello.

“Great, now it’s like I have to burn my girlfriend alive since you got all over her. Also I’m pretty sure my games are much better than his, sweetheart.” Kei chided, scowling at Hinata. His eyes widened as he chuckled nervously. 

“Don’t worry about him, Hinata.” You patted his hair down with a warm smile. 

As your hand fell down to your side, Hinata’s eyes followed the gold band on your finger. 

“YOU TWO GOT MARRIED?”

“No dipshit, I proposed to her.”

Everyone around you gasped. You waved your hand in front of your face laughing lightly. “Kei and I were planning to announce it here since we knew everyone would be coming here today.” You held your left hand up to your face for your friends to see. 

Everyone leaned in towards your hand with their mouths agape. You couldn’t see him, but you knew Kei was standing behind you with a proud smirk on his face. It was definitely getting to his head. 

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

The five of you turned to the side to see Kageyama striding over.

“She actually agreed to marry you? Who would’ve thought.” Kageyama forced out a very unnatural laugh. 

“Kageyama I don’t think that came out as funny as you thought it would. And actually, everyone kinda did. Since our first year of high school. Yanno? All three years it was kind of a will they, won’t they situation.” Hinata’s hands were up in front of his chest facing Kageyama. 

“Shut up, dumbass!”

Kei came up behind you placing both hands on each of your shoulders before turning his head to Kageyama. 

“My, my. I just think the King is jealous that I get to marry the love of my life, while he gets to stay married to volleyball. When was the last time you had an actual-“

“Shut the hell-“

Everyone besides Kageyama burst into fits of laughter, causing his speech to blur to a stop. Placing your hands on top of Kei’s, you turned to the black-haired setter. 

“Some things never really do change from high school, do they?”

You look up to meet Kei’s eyes. As soon as he sees you his face softens. You give him a soft nod signaling that he doesn’t have to push Kageyama anymore and he smiles in return.  

“I hate it when you two do that thing, it’s weird.”

“I don’t know, I think it’s cute.” Hinata mumbled to himself. 

“Shut up, dumbass.”

It wasn’t long before the other alumni from Karasuno met on the court. 

You, Kiyoko, Tanaka, and Yachi shied away to sit in the bleachers to tell them about the engagement while Kei was able to catch up with everyone he knew on the court. 

“So basically when Kei and I were little, there was this park by the river that we’d like to go to after school everyday. It was on the edge of our neighborhood so it wasn’t super far away or anything. It was when the leaves began to fall he wanted to go on a walk out there. We hadn’t been in years. He led me to this little candle-lit picnic- plastic candles though, believe it or not he was scared shitless of accidentally burning anything. Apparently him and Yamaguchi set it up a little while earlier…”

“Baby what’s all of this?”

“Can I not celebrate how much I love you from time to time?” Heat rose to your face before you waved him away.

“I guess so.”

“Good because I have all of your favorites right here, angel. Plus we’ve been so busy with work and school I haven’t had the proper chance to treat you.”

You sat beside Kei as he began to sort through the basket. He pulled out a bottle of wine and two cups. He poured you both a glass and the two of you slowly sipped on it as the sun began to dip behind the river.

“I know I say this a lot, but I’m forever grateful that I get to be by your side everyday.” Kei used his index finger to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, eyes straight ahead.

“I know, baby. I love living life with you.”

“I think this’ll be super romantic if we slow danced right now.” Kei stood to his feet, extending his right hand out to you. You took it as he pulled you to his chest. Your hands reached around his neck and your noses brushed each other. He turns his head to place a chaste kiss on your lips before grinning down at you.

“You make me the happiest man alive. I’m so grateful that my best friend is the love of my life.” You play with the hair at the nape of his neck as you smile. “Sorry it took me so long to come around. We could’ve had each other for much longer than this.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little mind over it.”

“I have no worries when I’m with you.”

Your hands gently grip around his shirt collar to pull him in for another kiss. Long and sweet. Your lips move along in perfect harmony as he holds you by your waist. He pulls away, barely an inch from your face. 

“L/N F/N, I-“

“Oh my- Kei are you okay?” You jolted at your name, he hadn’t said it in so long. He places a large hand over your mouth.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to raise a family with you, not a dog family with Hiro, but have actual kiddos. I want to wake up next to you every morning of my life. I want to fall asleep next to you every night. I want to be the reason you smile and be your comfort whenever you fall. I know that we’re both seniors in college right now, but next year I have a job lined up as Curator and the Sendai Museum. I haven’t told you yet, but I know I can support us. You’re about to get your dream job as well.” His hands travel down to yours before taking a step back. 

Kei lowers himself onto one knee before fumbling with his front pocket to pull out a small ring box. 

“Will you marry me? I promise to treasure you for the rest of our lives.”

Tears began to swell in your eyes as you began to nod quickly. You quickly rushed over to him hugging his neck smothering his face in kisses (and tears). 

“Yes, Kei!”

You finally wipe away your blurry vision to be greeted by him smiling, he was on the brink of tears himself. He offered the warmest, most compassionate smile you’ve ever seen from him in all the years you’ve known him. Your heart glowed because you knew this wouldn’t be the last time you’d see him like this. Your life was just now beginning. Kei quietly slipped the ring onto your finger before rushing up to grab your face with his hands. He gave you baby pecks on your lips. Each time he pulled away to look at you, his smile widened as if he couldn’t believe that you were there in front of him. 

“Thank you, my love”

“I’ve gotta say, if I’m being honest, I didn’t really think Tsukishima had a romantic bone in his body.” Tanaka chuckled to himself. Kiyoko pushed his shoulder gently. 

“Tsukishima has always had a soft spot for Y/N, he’d run to the ends of the Earth for her, Ryu.”

“So like me?”

The conversation between your friends blurred into background noise as you caught Kei’s eyes. He was with Bokuto, Kuroo, and Daichi. They were grabbing on his shoulder and laughing about something. 

Kei gave you a warm smile and held his thumbs up. You returned the gesture. He mouthed a very small “I love you” before returning back to his conversation. His smile continued to glow across the room. You smiled looking down at the ring that adorned your finger. 

A forever. 

taglist: @pipsqweaks | @pperapear | @wakayetoshi | @luvmonie | @bumbledunce | @a-listaire | @ysasian​ | @kodzu-ken | @montys-chaos @setterfish | @cece-lives-here | @totorosleaff​ | @sailorscout1902​ | @goopycookie

[wickxdangels]

George Weasley Imagine; Overprotective Georgie.

This is actually the very first Harry Potter imagine I’ve ever done! I’m always reading them so it’s kinda weird to be on the other side of the screen making them, but it’s so exciting! Remember, english is not my first language, so if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes please let me know! I appreaciate corrections :) I hope you all enjoy it and thanks for the requests and support! x

Pairing; George Weasley x Reader.

Warnings; Fluff

Request; Would you do a fluff George Weasley request where his significant other is the Golden Trios age and friend and her family is apart of the Order of the Phoenix so the summer before her 6th year Death Eaters attack her family and George is worried/overprotective of the idea of her going back to Hogwarts?

It was afternoon, when Y/n walked on her backyard, admiring the roses and different kinds of flowers that were growing there. The sun hitting on the surface of each one, highlighting their vibrant colors. 

Summer was definitely her favorite season, even though she missed her friends quite a lot during it, she so much loved and preferred the warmth of the sun against her skin, instead of the biting coldness that winter brings. 

Harry must’ve having the time of her life, along with Hermione and Ron, she thought. They have decided to spend their summer before sixth year together, she on the other hand, could not. 

Her parents, who worked with the Order of the Phoenix, took a well-deserved little summer break; so instead of planning attacks in the Order headquarters, against You-Know-Who and his followers, or traveling to different places to find allies to join the cause, they were spending it with their only daughter. They’ve come to the raw realization that family-time nowadays were scarce, lots of members have lost their family members while fighting for the Order, so this summer they wanted to spend it with their daughter before she returned to Hogwarts.

“Sweetie, how about I make your favorite meal for supper?” Her mother softly asked, leaning against the door of the backyard as she stared at her daughter, who was now walking towards the inside of her house after a few minutes of taking in the sun.

“Sure, mum. That sounds good by me, where’s dad?” She asked, closing the door behind her as she looked back at her mom.

“He’s in the study, dear. He’s now having a little talk with Remus and some of the members of the Order. We better not interrupt him.” Her mother replied.

She nodded, watching as her mother smiled once last time to her as she disappeared to the kitchen. Y/n sighed as she walked up the stairs towards her room, her dad would always be busy with the order, and she understood that. They were very protective over Harry and even more so after the death of his godfather, Sirius Black, last year. 

As she opened the door of her room, she heard a little slow tap coming from her window, she quickly walked towards it and found an grey owl sitting on the edge of it, a letter on its beak as it breathed heavily, noticeable tired of the journey it had just traveled. 

“Oh, Errol. The Weasley’s really need to lay off with you for a bit, you seem old enough to retire, buddy.” She chuckled as she opened her window, the owl stepping inside of her room rather quickly as it opened its beak, letting the letter fall to the small night table under the window before the owl itself passing out and falling to the floor. 

Y/n just shook her head, smiling at the tired and old owl before grabbing it softly and placing it at the end of her bed. She then sat down as well and opened up the letter resting in her hands, wondering who was it from. 

Dear Sweetheart,

I’m writing you to check up on you, how has your summer been so far? I’ve missed your face and of course, pulling pranks on you.. maybe I missed the latter a little bit more… No, never mind, I really miss your beautiful face, the picture I keep on my nightstand of you, really doesn’t make justice.

Mum’s been bugging me to tell you she also misses you quite dearly, and wishes for you to visit us for Christmas, she says something about having a present for you already; you know her.

Fred’s been sending more and more letters to Angelina, and he finally admitted to me their relationship is official, good for him. That way we won’t have to drag him around and he won’t have to complain about being a bad third.

Anyways, it’s been fun here in The Burrow with Harry and Hermione, we’ve been playing Quidditch and coming up with new pranks for the upcoming semester at Hogwarts. Ginny is still acting weird towards Harry and Hermione still blushes every time Ron is around, nothing much has changed.

I really hope you’re taking care of yourself and enjoying your time with your parents, I know you desired having them more time with you, so I’m happy you finally got the chance to do so.

I miss you more and more each day, so expect more letters from me as I expect more from you, your handwriting is adorable if I must say so.

Well, I’m running out of ink so I must bid you an adieu.

I’m really looking forward to seeing you when school starts. I love you so much, sweetheart. Always remember that.

Yours,

The best-looking Weasley twin, George.

Pd: Please, allow Errol to take a nap before sending him back, if not he’ll probably pass out mid-air. I know, I know, he’s too old but he still does his job correctly, or so I hope. Thanks baby.

The letter sure made her heart ache for him even more, he had missed him dearly all summer long. Missing the way his red hair gleamed under the sunlight and the way his warm eyes would stare at her whenever she would tell him about Snape being hard on her in Potions class. She missed the way he would always wink at her standing on the bleachers before any Quidditch match, and how they would cuddle in their common room whenever winter nights were too cold. 

She looked at the old owl with a smile on her face before standing up to look for her parchment and quill to write her reply letter.                                                           

                                                 _______________

A few hours later, she finished her supper and was currently laying on her bed, reading a new book her mother had bought for her for some light summer reading, in the background little snores came from Errol, she didn’t even know owls could snore but at least that was a sign that the owl bird was still alive, she wondered how old the bird was. 

She looked at the clock, it was already 11:30 pm as she sat down and placed her book on her desk, Errol finally stirring awake from his long nap as he looked at her. 

“Good to know you’re awake buddy, hope you had a good nap.” She said, softly stroking his grey feathers as he just hooted. 

She stood up from the bed and walked towards her desk, grabbing the letter from it before giving it to the owl. Errol then with its little foot grabbed on her fingers as she opened the window, helping the owl take impulse before flying off to the dark sky. 

She sighed, closing the window before sitting down on her bed. She was counting the days until the day she would see George again.

Hopefully soon.. she thought. 

It must’ve been some hours past midnight, probably around 3 am when she heard some weird noises in her backyard, she shrugged it off thinking it must be the neighbor’s cat who always jumped to their backyard from time to time, but then she heard another rustling sound and a cold breeze hit her body, not usual for a summer’s night. 

She quickly woke up, grabbing her wand from her desk where she usually kept it in case of emergency, and she sure knew this was an emergency. 

She quickly ran towards her parent’s bedroom, both of them still asleep as she woke them up in a haste. “Mum, Dad, quickly! Wake up!” She half-yelled, not wanting to make the unwanted guest know they were aware of their surprise visit. 

Her parents, who were opening their eyes in confusing. “Wh-what? What’s going on, sweetheart?” Her dad asked, he noticed the wand in her hand as she looked back and forth around the room. 

“Death Eaters! I-i think they are here!” She breathlessly said as both of their parents were quick to grab their wands and stand up from the bed, the mom wrapped her arms around the daughter’s shoulders as she tried to calm her, her father quickly going out of the room and checking through Y/n’s window that was the only one facing the backyard.

Death Eaters, indeed. He was surprised that they had found out their location; it was a matter of time, he supposed. He watched as they just stood there for a bit before another Death Eater apparated there, probably the leader of the rest. With some quick words and nods, he saw as they muttered a quick Incendio spell from their wands, as fire erupted from them, the flames embracing the flowers his wife had planted and quickly spreading to the house, he saw as they walked inside and it was a matter of time before they ran into each other. 

He ran back towards his room, looking at both his wife and daughter. “Do we fight them, dad?” Y/n asked, always brave and ready for the action whenever it was needed, a true Gryffindor like himself. “No sweetie, we are not fighting them. They outnumber us and I’m not ready to take any chances with you two here. We have to leave at once!” He quickly grabbed some bags he had hiding behind a desk. “I have already made a emergency plan if this was ever to happen, now everybody grab my hand.” Her dad was quick to say as he could her things breaking downstairs, Y/n was shocked to see her dad not putting up a fight. “But dad! We cannot let them destroy our house!” She exclaimed as she faced her father.

“Sweetie, your and your mother lives are more important to me than the house. Property can be replaced, lives cannot.” He maintained a fixed composure, he knew that he had to be brave in front of his family.

They took a moment to nod before they heard footsteps on the stairs, they quickly grabbed on his hand as they apparated out of the room just in time for the Death Eater to bust into the room, throwing the deadly curse at the wind.

Harry was right, was the first thing she thought.

Apparition really did feel like being forced through a very tight rubber tube, her stomach felt uneasy, after all it was her first time using this method of travel. It was quicker than floo powder, for sure, but not her favorite at all. 

She looked up to find herself in very familiar surroundings, her dad took no time in walking towards the big house that was in front of them, she looked around and her mother softly caressed her hair “Are we..?” Her mother nodded. “The Burrow, darling. We all agreed to come here in any type of emergency, now let’s go and say hi to the Weasley’s.”

They both quickly walked towards the big four-story home, she looked down at her outfit, kind of glad she didn’t decide to wear her more childish but comfortable pajamas, she looked up just in time to see the patriarch of the family, Arthur Weasley, come out of the door with Molly by his side, both of them carrying worried faces as the rest of the home started to lit up completely, waking up everybody. 

“Hello, Molly.” Y/n mom softly said, with a sad tone to her voice as the redhaired woman approached them. “I’m thankful all of you are alright, it would’ve devastating if they have invaded both of our homes.” 

“Oh, dear! I’m just thankful that you three made it out without a scratch! Now, come on! Let’s get you all settled down, a pot of tea is already waiting for us.” Molly said with a tender smile as she embraced both of the women, walking inside as her dad and Arthur wandered off to contact the rest of the Order to let them know of the attack. 

Once they got inside the house, their worries seemed to disappear by the second, her head was still wild thinking about her home being burned to the ground.

“Mum, what’s going on—” the sentence was quick to fly from George’s lips as he walked down stairs to find his girlfriend and his girlfriend’s mum in his kitchen, when she heard the voice of George she was swift on her feet to run towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he quickly embraced her, burying his face on her neck, breathing in her sweet fragrance. “Merlin’s beard!” He cussed out, “Babe, what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” George quickly asked, wanting to put an end to his doubts, don’t get him wrong, he was happy to have her in his arms but confused as to why they apparated at 3 am in his house.

“They attacked our house! Death Eaters, George! They came out of nowhere and burned our home!” She cried out, her eyes filling up with tears as she hugged him tighter, wanting to feel the warmth and protection of his body embracing her. “I wish I could’ve done something, fought them! they just burned it down. I just feel so hopeless.” 

“Don’t you dare say that! You are one of the bravest Gryffindors I know. It was better to avoid fighting them now, we have to prepare for battle and it wouldn’t be nice training with a wounded girlfriend.” He joked a bit, trying to brighten her mood up a bit as she chuckled between sobs before cleaning away her tears. “I guess you’re right..”

“When am I not right, babe?” He winked at her as he kissed her lips softly.

“Okay, now you’re just getting cocky.” She replied shaking her head.

Seconds laters, the whole pack came down, Fred and Ginny along with The Golden Trio who were quick to check up on her and ask questions, Harry getting furious at the Death Eaters once again, tired of them coming after their friends.

“It’s not your fault, Harry, dear. We knew what we were getting ourselves into when we agreed to be part of The Order and we wouldn’t want it any other way.” Y/n’s mom said as she caressed Harry’s cheek, Y/n nodded at the statement.

“Okay, kids. It’s time for you to go back to sleep, we can discuss this tomorrow when things have calmed down.” Molly said as she hushed the teens up to their rooms. “I know you’re a bit shaken up, sweetie. So, with your mum’s approval, I’m gonna make the exception for you to sleep in Georgie’s room, but no funny business! The walls are too thin, remember!” 

That night, with her mom and Molly’s approval, Y/n slept with George’s arms embracing her, feeling more protected and comforted, when she said she hoped to see him soon, she didn’t mean like this, but she was glad to be back in his arms. Even if Fred’s snores were too loud.

                                                    _______________

Days and weeks have gone by, Y/n and her parents have found safe sanctuary and a place to stay at The Order’s headquarters at 12 Grimmauld Place, known as The Black’s family home. It had every security measure known to wizardkind, as Sirius once said, so they felt safe staying there for the time being. 

They’ve gone back to their home, everything was pretty much destroyed except some knick knacks here and there and some family pictures that they’ve brought back to the headquarters. As her dad said, property can be replaced and they were on the process of finding a new place.

The Death Eaters have become more and more aggressive, finding more places to burn to the ground and more allies to torture. 

The Weasley’s and The Golden Trio have visited quite a lot, practicing spells and dueling as they prepared for the upcoming battle, that meant more time with George and she couldn’t complain, of course having her friends around was pretty amazing too.

There were few days left of summer, as she packed the remains of her belongings and her robes in suitcases, preparing for going back to Hogwarts. She was a bit excited to go back to school, cause this year had interesting courses she was dying to be part of. Yes, she was very alike Hermione when it came to school, one of the reasons the two got along so well, but she also liked to have fun from time to time, another reason she and The Golden Trio kicked it off good. 

“What are you doing?” George’s voice asked as he leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms as she stared at her while she finished packing. 

“Packing for Hogwarts, of course.” She replied in an obvious tone to him as she finished zipping up her baggage.

“I don’t think going back to Hogwarts might be safe for you, considering everything that happened with the Death Eaters and lots of the Slytherin kids are their offspring..” 

“C’mon, Georgie.” She used Molly’s pet name for him. “You can’t be serious. It’s Hogwarts we are talking about! Probably one of the most safe places I could think of!” She was kind of exaggerating with that last part, Hogwarts has been anything but safe these last few years, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to finish her education, even if that meant one or two accidents here and there. 

“I am serious, Y/n! I don’t want you running into any danger at Hogwarts, and we both know you’re quite good at that..” He raised his brow at her before walking towards her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “Oh, really? You’re the one telling me that, Mr. Troublemaker?” She giggled as she placed her arms around her neck, bringing him down a bit to then place a soft kiss against his lips. “Besides, we both know that if I’m ever in deep trouble, you’ll always be there for me, right?” She asked.

“Always.” 

“Then, let’s just think about how cool will it be to be back at school. We could go to Hogsmeade, maybe make-out in our free periods..” She slowly explained.

“There’s no way I’m convincing you otherwise, is there?”

“Sometimes, you truly are brilliant, Georgie.” She giggled as she pecked his lips once again. “Now, come on. Let me show you some new pranks I’ve been thinking of.”

They really were made for each other.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Cheryl//she means everything to me

Request: Can I request a Cheryl Blossom request where the reader is Archie's twin (a girl) and a super close with her brother and his friends so she doesn't like Cheryl but one day she finds Cheryl crying over Jason and comforts her so Cheryl falls for her and becomes like her best friends has her join the vixens constantly by her side and eventually the reader falls for her and like a super fluffy ending please ps I really love everything you write

hey! i had so much fun writing this, you have no idea! its also super gay!

“Well would you look at that, the sad breakfast club have reunited at lunch.” Cheryl’s cheery voice stops all conversations happening and everyone turns to look at her, her red hair blows softly in slight breeze and her eyes twinkle with whatever chaos she’s going to cause today. 

“What do you want Cheryl?” Betty is the first to speak, dropping her fork on her tray as you all wait for her to start her insults. 

“Well, cousin, I actually wanted to see how you were. But however, if you’re going to be like that.” She clears her throat before narrowing her eyes. “Betty, your ponytail is wonky and that sweater really washes you out, your hobo of a boyfriend really needs a bath because well, I can smell him from here, or maybe thats just the ridiculously childish hat he refuses to take off. Archie, you’re hair is so ridiculously bright today, its actually blinding me, and it looks like you’ve put enough product in to drown all the little lice that lives in it, Veronica that dress was popular last season, and the shoes a decade ago, and Y/n, I actually didn’t realize you were here. Like I kind of forgot that you existed for a few minutes. What’s it like in your brothers shadow?” She finishes her little speech with a bright smile and the five of you sigh before starting to eat again. You can never read Cheryl, one day she can be sweet and lovely and want to help, the next she’s the worst person you’ll ever meet. 

“Probably a lot nicer than being in yours...I can imagine Jason’s shadow is particularly cold.” Veronica retorts and your eyes widen in surprise...that was cold, even for Veronica. Archie smiles proudly at his girlfriend and presses a soft kiss to her head while the rest of the table laugh, including yourself, all 5 of you ignoring Cheryl as she turns on her heel and storms off. 

“Lovely talking to you!” Jughead calls after her causing you all to laugh even louder. 

“Will she ever stop being a bitch?” You wonder aloud and the laughing pauses, giving everyone a chance to look at each other for a few seconds before you start giggling again. 

“I don’t think its possible for Cheryl to be anything other.” Your brother replies through a mouthful of sandwich and you nod in reply. 

-----

“Do you wanna ride Y/n?” Archie shouts across the parking lot as he gestures to the truck behind him. Veronica is already in the passenger seat scrolling through her phone and you so desperately want to go with them, even if they’ll do gross things in Archie’s room until your mom gets back from work, but today apparently is not your day,

“If I’m not back when mom gets home tell her that I haven’t been kidnapped or murdered, I’m just going to be late because Cheryl set her Vixens out for revenge and they’ve stolen my bag so I get to play a fun game of hide-and-seek with all my stuff.” You huff, blowing a piece of hair from your face as your shoulder slump in defeat. The fact that you could be spending up to a few hours extra at this stupid school actually hitting you, and Archie gives you a sympathetic look in response to your frown. 

“Do you need some help?” He offers but you shake your head. You don’t want to drag him into this, plus you can imagine the Vixens are already planning what they’re going to do to him and the rest of your friends, so you may-as-well give him some peace while he can get it. 

“Nah, I’m sure I’ll be fine. I was always the best at finding things when we were younger.” You shrug. “Plus, you don’t want to keep your girlfriend waiting.” You nod towards Veronica who’s hanging her head out the passenger window. 

“I suppose not.” He replies, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looks back at his girlfriend and you can’t help but feel a little sad. You’re glad Archie and Veronica have finally worked everything out and are madly in love, but a small part of you feels left behind. 

Practically all of your friends are in relationships or are dating, leaving you to be the odd one out at literally any get together. However you have very limited options when it comes to dating, there’s not a lot of queer girls in Riverdale, or even the surrounding towns, at least not a lot of them are out and the ones that are you don’t really like that much. *cough* Cheryl *cough*. And no matter how hard your friends try to set you up with someone, they always seems to pick the worst people. No matter how many times you tell them what your type is. 

Three weeks ago Veronica set you up with a girl who came into Pop’s a lot and the only reason she went on a date with you is because she liked Veronica and wanted to know her ‘deal’. Which you can imagine she was very surprised when you told her she was dating your twin brother...yikes. 

Maybe you should join a convent. Or get one of those apps that Kevin uses, but only weirdos...and Kevin are on those types of apps. And do they even have them for gay girls. 

You ponder your options as you walk behind the bleachers, humming a song you heard in the car this morning as you go. You’re also trying to figure out how to get back at Cheryl and her minions when you hear sniffling coming from a little further ahead of you. Stopping in your tracks you look up and towards the noise to see none other than Cheryl Blossom crying by herself. Thankfully she hasn’t seen you yet and and you quickly look around to see how far your escape is. You're about to turn on your heels when the nice side of you decides to show up, unfortunately. 

God, why do I have to have a conscious.  

You take a deep breath and send a prayer to literally anybody listening that she doesn’t bite your head off, before you slowly make your way towards the red-head. 

“Cheryl?” Your voice shakes with uncertainty and as soon as she hears someone say her name her head lifts up and she’s wiping the tears from her eyes, a look of distain taking over the previous sad expression. 

“What do you want Andrews?” She spits and looks you up and down.

You decided to ignore her tone, and try to keep your nice one as you continue your conversation. “Are you okay?” 

“Just fine.” She crosses her arms over her chest and her jaw locks as she looks away from you. 

“Are you sure?” You ask and sit on the floor a few feet away from her. “Because, you don’t seem it.” 

“What’s it to you anyway?” She snaps and you roll your eyes. 

“You’re right. It is none of my business.” You sigh and stand up, dusting your jeans off once your stood. “I hope you feel better soon.” 

“Y/n?” She calls after you and you huff before turning around. “I’m sorry.” Your eyes widen at the words thats just come of of her mouth and you need to sit down.

“What?!” Your jaw drops and she rolls her eyes at you. “Did you actually just apologize to me?” 

“Yes, but I can take it back if you want.” She mutters and you force a smile away as you sit down beside her again, this time a tiny bit closer to her than before but she doesn’t seem to mind, instead your pretty sure she shuffles a little closer to you too. 

“Sorry.” You mumble and a small smile appears on her face. 

“Did you just apologize?” She mocks and you giggle a little. 

“Okay, I deserved that.” You nod. “Do you want to talk about why you’re sat on the floor behind the bleachers after everyone has gone home, crying?” 

“Well, when you put it so delicately, sure.” She replies and you send her a look. “I miss Jason.” 

“Oh.” You say and look at the your hands. You’re not really sure what to say to that. It’s not like you can bring him back, or even take away her pain. As much as you don’t like her, Cheryl’s been through an awful lot. Far more than anybody else and you can’t help but feel slightly sorry for her. 

“Yep.” She take a quick glance at you before deciding to look straight ahead. An idea pops into your head and you sit up a little before looking at her. 

“What do you miss about him?” 

“What?” She furrows her brows as she looks at you and you take a deep breath before explaining. 

“Well, in my experience...it kind of helps to talk about what you miss about them. Because it doesn’t push away the fact that they’re gone, and it also helps me remember the best bits about them. So even though it always stings, overall it makes me feel a little better. If that makes sense?” 

“Yeah.” She nods and you can tell she’s thinking about what you’ve just said. “I get that. That was surprisingly insightful for you.” 

“Thanks.” You laugh and she giggles a little. “So what do you miss about him?” 

“I miss...how he always used to tell me stupid jokes whenever mom or dad had been mean to me or if they’d argued.” She smiles a little at the memory, despite the sad undertones and you can’t help but think how brave Cheryl actually is. “And how when we were younger we used to share a room and he would always tell me bedtime stories. Usually after my mom had come in and told us scary ones. As soon as he’d hear her walk down the stairs he would slip out of his bed and climb into mine and tell me magical stories, usually involving the two of us. We’d be superheroes or we’d live in a caste and we’d be happy.” 

“Thats sweet.” 

“Yeah. He was. He was just the best. He always looked after me, no matter what. None of his friends were aloud to make fun of me no matter how old we were, and when I didn’t have many friends when I was younger he’d make sure I never felt lonely...he was a good person.” 

“He was yeah.” You nod in agreement. “When I was about ten, he was playing football with a bunch of his friends and I was walking past them, trying to get away from them as soon as possible. He ended up throwing the ball and it hit me right in the end making me fall over. And instead of laughing, he ran over to me and he said sorry while helping me up. Then he took me to the nurses office and waited with me until my dad picked me up.” You smile flickers for a moment at the mention of your father and Cheryl seems to pick up on it, placing a gentle hand on your arm making you smile a little. “If that was any other boy, they would have laughed. But no, he helped me and I think that sums up Jason perfectly.” 

“Yeah. It really does.” She looks at you properly, for what is probably the first time ever and she feels her breathing quicken. How was she ever mean to you? Your eyes are sparkling in the sunlight as you talk about the very few memories of Jason, and she has to fight the urge to cry. Nobody apart from her brother has ever been this nice to her, and after Jason’s death, nobody really said anything nice about him, they usually just talked about the theories surrounding his murder. 

A soft smile dances across your lips, the corners of your lips curled upwards and she feels herself mirroring it. Your hair blows a little in the slight breeze and you tuck the stray bits behind your ear, leaving the rest to fall around your face. She giggles when your nose scrunches up at a particularly gross part of a story involving puke and a swimming pool and she frowns when you stop laughing, due to a sad part in a story that also involves your father. She just wants to wrap her arms around you and forget about the entire world and all of the horrible things in it. 

“Did that help?” You ask and she nods, a sweet smile on her lips as she looks at you. 

“Yeah...thanks.” 

“No problem!” You reply, a bright grin on your face and she feels her heart flutter at the sight. She’s never really seen you smile like this, and even if she has caught a glimpse of it, its never directed at her. She feels like she needs to go back in time and right all of those wrongs because she needs to see you smile like that more often. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why exactly were you skulking around the bleachers in the first place?” 

“Oh. I was looking for my bag.” 

“How’d you lose a whole bag?” She laughs but when she notices you looking at her, your eyebrows raised, she remembers how you could lose a whole bag. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that.” 

“You can make it up to me by telling me where it is.” You nudge her shoulder and she grimaces. 

“Yeahhh. About that. You’re not going to like where they put it.” 

“Where did they put it?” You narrow your eyes at her. 

“The bin...in the cafeteria.” 

“Damn.” You sigh. “Well, I suppose it needed a wash anyway.” 

“Sorry.” She sighs, looking at the floor. 

“Its fine.” You grab her hand and she looks at you surprised making you pull your hand away (much to her disappointment). “I kind of deserved it. What Veronica said was pretty harsh and I didn’t say anything.” 

“No, no. You didn’t say it, you didn’t say anything actually. I was really mean to you and you just took it. I’m so sorry.” 

“If it makes you feel any better I did call you a bitch after you left.” You shrug and she looks at your surprised. 

“You know.” She stands up and dusts her skirt off, offering you a hand afterwards. “That does kind of make me feel a little better.” 

“I’m glad.” You grin and let her pull you up. 

“I can help you find your bag and then give you a lift home...thats if you want to.” She trails off at the end, she never feels nervous, but suddenly you’re making her more nervous than she’s ever felt before. 

“Sure.” You nod. “You can tell me more stories about Jason if you want.” You ask and its only now that you realize you’re still holding her hand. You mumble a quick sorry and let go before starting to walk away. “You coming?” You look back at her and she swears her heart actually skips a beat as she stares at you, the sun behind you makes you look ethereal, and she’s always believed in angels, but its only now that she’s actually seen one. 

“Yeah.” She nods. “Y/n?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think anybody could forget that you existed.” 

especially not me...not now

-----

“Did you find your bag honey?” Your mom asks as you walk into the kitchen. 

“Mom. You’re back early.” You smile awkwardly at her and then to Archie, who’s stood on the other end of the kitchen with a worried expression on his face. It doesn’t take you a minute to figure out Veronica is upstairs and he’s trying to sneak her out. 

“Well, yeah.” She nods and takes a sip of coffee. “I was finished my work and I wanted to spend time with my babies.” She pinches your cheek softly making you roll your eyes. Archie is still looking towards the door and you can hear the slight creaks of the floorboards as Veronica tries to sneak down the stairs. 

“I-” Archie is about to practically shout over the noise but your mom puts her hand up in the air, effectively stopping him. 

“Just tell her to come down. She can stay for dinner if she wants.” She shakes her head and sends you a quick smile making you giggle. 

“Right. Yes. Okay.” He nods and quickly makes his way to the stairs. There’s quiet mumbling before Veronica appears by his side in the doorway of the kitchen, both of them with sweet smiles as they look at your mom. 

“Hi, Mrs Andrews.” Veronica waves. “Hey Y/n. Did you find your bag?” 

“Yeah. It was in a bin.” You shrug and they all look at you. 

“Honey, why would someone do that? Do you want me to call the school?” 

“Its fine mom.” You shake your head. “Its just Cheryl and her friends.” 

“Well we should talk to someone. They can’t go around putting people’s belongings in the bin. The law clearly state-” 

“Mom.” You interrupt her as you sit at the table. “Its fine. She was actually very sorry about it.” 

“What!?!” Both Veronica and Archie’s jaws drop while they look at you wide-eyed. 

“Cheryl was sorry?” Veronica asks in disbelief. 

“Yeah.” You shrug. “She helped me look for it.” 

“Yeah. I don’t believe that in the slightest.” She replies. 

“Definitely. She’s got something planned. And its big.” Archie agrees. 

“Or she could just be being nice. That does actually happen you know.” You reply and he laughs sarcastically. 

“Yeah, I don’t think she knows how to be nice. Why are you even defending her? Earlier today you asked if she would ever stop being a bitch.” 

“Archie! Language!” Your mom scolds and the two of your roll your eyes. 

“That was before I had an actual conversation with her instead of insulting her. Which is what you do.” 

“I don’t insult her, Veronica insults her.” He replies.

“Archie!” Veronica slaps him arm lightly and he mumbles a quick apology. 

“Yeah, but you don’t do anything to stop the insults.” 

“Neither do you.” He retorts and you cross your arms. 

“Well, I’m doing it right now s-” 

“Okay!” Your mom shouts instantly shutting everyone up. “Thats enough. We’re going to have a nice family dinner and we’re going to enjoy each others company. Now stop shouting at each other. And say sorry.” 

It takes a few seconds and a lot of glares and huffs but eventually you say sorry to each other and Archie sits on the opposite side of the table of you, followed quickly by Veronica. 

“Do you like Cheryl?” He mouths while your mom is plating up the food and when she isn’t looking you make sure to kick him under the table, earning a death glare from him. 

“God no.” You huff, scrunching your face up which makes him laugh. 

maybe a little

-----

“Here comes the she-devil.” Jughead mumbles quietly and you all look in the direction that he was nodding to. Cheryl is walking towards your table, with a look you’ve never really seen before. Not one thats directed at your friends anyway. She looks happy. A lot different to how you found her yesterday and you’re glad she’s not as sad, a smile really suits her. 

“Oh god.” Veronica mumbles as she takes a sip from her drink. “Hey, did we tell you where she hid Y/n’s bag yesterday?” She asks, lowering her voice as Cheryl gets closer and Betty and Jughead shake their heads, leaning further towards her. “In the cafeteria bin.” 

“Gross.” Betty scrunches her face up. 

“Thats just unhygienic.” Jughead adds.

“You’re telling me.” Veronica replies. “Mrs Andrews had to wash it three times to get the smell of the soup out.” 

“Ewww.” They laugh and you send them a quick glare before looking at Cheryl. 

“Greetings fellow students.” Cheryl stops in front or your table and the laughter stops. You swear you can see a flicker of sadness flash through her eyes and you decide to quickly change the subject. 

“Cheryl!” You smile brightly at her and the sadness you thought you saw disappears completely. Its not everyday that somebody has been this happy to see her and she decides to grab it with both hands. 

All night she was up thinking about you, thinking about how she could have gone so long not noticing you, and how she needs to make sure everybody notices you. Everyone needs to know about you. Y/n Andrews, the girl who could take some of Cheryl Blossom’s sadness away, something that has never been done before. 

“Hi Cheryl.” Betty greets her and she forces a polite smile to look at your friends, making it a little bigger as she looks at your brother. 

“Hi.” She replies. “Can I sit?” She’s now looking back at you, pointing to the seat beside you and you nod, quickly moving down so she can sit beside you. Archie huffs as he’s pushed off the end of the table and he quickly grabs a seat so he can sit back down. 

“Are you feeling any better today?” You voice is quiet, barely above a whisper as you ask her a question and she can’t help but fall a little more for you, because you didn’t shout her business, not like everybody else does. You made sure only she could hear you. 

“Yeah.” She nods. “Much better. I still miss him, but it doesn’t hurt as much.” 

“I’m glad.” You smile. “Anyway.” Your voice is louder and the quiet mumbles from your friends have stopped. “Can we help you with anything?” 

“Yes actually! Y/n, how would you feel about joining the Vixens?” Her smile is warm and kind but the words that have just come from her lips make your bold run cold. Your friends look at each other before looking back at you and you can feel yourself getting hotter and hotter. 

“I don’t know Cheryl.” You start, your voice nervous as you try and find the best way to let her down gently. She’s only started being nice to you but you’d rather stick forks in your eyes than be a cheerleader, not with them anyway. They’re mean and rude and they think they’re better than everyone...but you’re not going to say that to Cheryl, so instead you decide on something a little nicer. “It’s just not really my type of thing. Plus, I don’t think they really like me.” 

“Can you imagine, Y/n as a cheerleader.” Archie chuckles making you and Cheryl roll your eyes. 

“Whats wrong with being a cheerleader?” Cheryl asks and crosses her arms. 

“Yeah, Archie. Or are you forgetting that your girlfriend is a Vixen?” You add and Cheryl sends you a small smile which makes your head feel a little fuzzy. 

“There’s nothing wrong with being a Vixen. But Y/n being a Vixen is just funny.” 

“And why is that dear brother?” You raise an eyebrow and he gulps. He mumbles a quick ‘nothing’, before going back to eating. 

“I really do think you should at least try-out. I think you’ll be great. Plus, if any of the girls say anything, which they won’t, they’ll have me to answer to.” She explains and you think about it for a minute. Would it be really bad to be part of the school’s cheerleading squad. The reasonable part of your brain is saying, more like screaming, yes its the worst idea in the world. But the slightly less reasonable and the slightly more gay part is screaming hell yeah. Surrounded by wonderful, smart if not slightly intimidating girls...plus, Cheryl!

“Fine.” You give in. “I’ll try out.” 

“Yay!” She claps her hands excitedly before standing up and brushing her hair over her shoulder. The small gesture has you mesmerized and you have to force yourself to remember where you are in order to regain all your thoughts, the number one being, ‘what the hell was that about?’ “I’ll see you after school! Goodbye Y/n.” She waves at you before starting to walk away and its only when Betty clears her throat that she turns around again to wave everybody else off. 

Your brother decides to wait until she’s out of earshot until he starts talking again, and the first thing he says is something that doesn’t really surprise you. 

“Y/n and Cheryl, kissing in a tree.” He teases, making a kissy face and you throw a handful of food at him. The rest of your friends let out the laughter they’ve been holding in and you roll your eyes so hard you swear they’re going to fall out. 

“How old are you?” You huff. 

“Old enough to see that Cheryl fancies you.”  

“Shut up!” 

-----

Cheryl didn’t just fancy you. 

She liked you. 

Actually she was head over heels, doodling your initials in a heart, mind goes fuzzy anytime she sees you, in love with you. 

And you? Well, you were none the wiser. 

You just thought she was being friendly. Maybe more than the average person but Cheryl hasn’t had many close friends so maybe this is the only way she knows how to keep them. 

She’s holding your hand? She just wants to make sure you know you’re not alone. Her hugs are a bit longer than normal? Come on, the girl deserves a long hug. She always finds a way to include you in conversation? She’s just being sweet. 

Yes, Cheryl Blossom was becoming a slightly more bearable person, and it only seemed to happen when you were around. Leaving everyone to have their own conspiracies. 

Archie’s was of course that she was in love with you. “Yeah right. Like that would happen Archie.” 

Veronica’s was that it was one long prank to get back at everyone who’d hurt her. “Veronica, thats just sociopathic.” 

Betty’s was slightly less weird, that she probably just wants to make a friend and so she’s being overly nice to fool people into thinking she hasn’t got a heart made of ice. “Thats just mean.” 

And Jughead’s was that she’d either been possessed by a poltergeist. “Aren’t they supposed to be mean?” Or, that she’d been taken over by aliens. “I think they’d have better things to do than make Cheryl nice.” 

Plus there was all of the other ridiculous rumors flying around school, but she either seemed to not hear or just ignore them. 

“Y/n. Are you even listening to me?” You’re pulled back down to earth by Cheryl waving her hands in front of your face. 

“What? Yeah. Huh?” You ask and she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I was talking you through the routine for Friday. You know the whole reason why we’re in the gym after school.” 

“Yes. Yes. I remember.” You stand and she shakes her head, despite the smile thats threatening to ruin her facade. 

“Okay.” She stands beside you. “Are you watching?” She asks and glances at you, a smile making its way onto her face as she watches you go over the steps in your head. Your frowning slightly at you try to remember the steps and she can’t help but giggle a little as your arms start to move to. 

“What?” You ask. 

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “Ready?” 

“Ye-” 

“Good.” She nods. The music starts and she begins to go through the steps, you following a step behind her. However half way through you get distracted by the way she’s moving and then it hits you. 

I’m in love with with Cheryl Blossom. 

“Shit.” You mumble and she turns around quickly. 

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I erm. I just got a bit distracted. Sorry.” 

“Its fine.” She smiles brightly. “Lets go again, I’ll help you this time.” 

“You’re already helping me.” You reply and she rolls her eyes. 

“I’ll help you even more.” She hits your arm lightly and your heart goes hay-wire at the small interaction. “Stand there.” You do as she says and the next thing you know she’s stood behind you were her hands on your hips. 

“Wha-at, are you doing?” You stutter, your breathing getting quicker with each second. Her perfume is suffocating you, but in the best way and her breath is hot on your neck as she leans over you a little. 

“He-helping.” She replies, also stuttering a bit and your swear you hear her breath hitch when you move your head to look at her. Your lips are millimeters away from hers, and if you leaned in just a little more you’d be kissing her, something you really want to do right now. You wonder what her lips would feel like against yours, how soft they’d be and if her lipstick would stain you, forever leaving a mark on you. “Y/n?” 

“Yeah?” Your eyes flicker up to meet hers and it feels like she’s staring directly into your soul. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Absolutely.” You reply and within seconds her lips are on yours, her hands gripping your waist tightly to turn you around. What you thought kissing Cheryl would be like, and actually kissing Cheryl, are completely different. Her lips are softer than you could ever imagine. Her lipstick tastes like cherries with a hint of maple syrup and you don’t think pancakes are ever going to taste the same again. 

You both pull away, a bright blush on both of your faces and she giggles a little as she wipes the lipstick from the side of your face. But it doesn’t matter, she left a mark on you that day behind the bleachers, and you don’t think you’re ever going to be the same again...not that you’d really want to be. 

[paradigmsofbrittaperry]

I just looked at your Spotify, first for the Jeffbritta then for your immaculate music taste ........ but sweetheart. GODDESS. What the hell mental illness made you listen to the Russian National Anthem that many times

FSHDKDLD god okay this one’s A Story, and there’s a much more concise way to tell it, but I’ve never been a concise person. jump under the read more if you dare.

sooooo it all started in a Wal-Mart parking lot after going to a high school football game with some of my friends. we had gone in to get a box of cupcakes and somehow emerged with a jar of pickles, a bag of peanut M&M’s, and a bag of Twix bars. as we were walking out of the Wal-Mart with our spoils, a bunch of guys our age ran by us and pushed us out of the way, screaming and running all the way to the edge of the parking lot. they were followed by Wal-Mart security, and we figured out the next day that they were members of our school’s lacrosse team and they were running because they had stolen goods from this Wal-Mart. so my friends and I start walking away from the exit like “oh boy, that was wild” only to be stopped by a woman who asked us if we wanted one of heaven’s brownies. we did not, so we swiftly moved along, clutching our pickles and candy a little bit tighter. 

there were six of us, so we’d taken two cars (and really, we’d come in groups of three anyway and met up on accident), but decided to go back to one person’s car to eat before splitting up and going our separate ways. so four of us found a way to squeeze into the backseat of this not-very-large vehicle and cracked open the pickles. the driver was in control of the music, and at first, he put on a few songs from Hamilton because I guess he was just that late to the trend. I was minding my own business, eating a Twix bar and vibing while being crushed between two of my friends when suddenly, everything changed.

there was a swell of orchestral music. we all looked at the driver in complete and utter confusion as the singers came in, singing in a language we did not know. he looks away, and the rest of us begin to laugh, as we’re very lucid at this point because it’s almost 11:30pm and this wasn’t our first adventure of the night (the first involved sneaking past the other school’s administration to get to the home side bleachers by cutting across the football field itself, we’re such rebels ik). 

eventually, someone (probably me tbh) manages to ask;

“what is this?”

the driver keeps looking down, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

“it’s the Russian National Anthem.”

“the WHAT?”

“the Russian National Anthem.”

he went on to explain that his older brother has a playlist of meme songs that he shared with everyone, and for some entirely unknown reason, this was on the list, and he’d taken a liking to it. whatever, we thought. in all honesty? it kinda slaps. maybe a little more than Hamilton does.

fast forward to about a week later. one of my friends from that group has been my friend since childhood, and lives about five minutes away from me. as such, she would often drive me home after band practice if it was a day when my dad wasn’t helping out with practice.

she usually gave me the aux, trusting me to queue a few things on Spotify for our 20 minute drive. at that point, it was typically lots of Hayley Kiyoko, lots of P!atd, and a fair amount of girl in red, because we were both gay and didn’t develop a music taste until very recently. there was also a specific Sam Smith song that we always listened to (How Do You Sleep) because of a specific incident from that year of band that honestly, I may go into at a later date.

that night, I look at the Spotify search bar and think “wouldn’t it be funny if I threw the Russian National Anthem in there? just to mess with her and call back to the night of that football game? man, that was a fun night. let’s do it.”

so I queue said anthem to come on after How Do You Sleep.

we poorly sing along with Sam Smith, laughing and joking all the way. the song starts to fade out, we settle down. we’re both waiting for the next song to come on. I’m barely holding it together, trying so hard not to blow my cover and laugh that tears are streaming down my face. 

the drum roll. the sweeping instrumentals.

now, I feel like I’ve already provided a gratuitous amount of context, but you must know that this particular band season had been absolute shit. our beloved band director had gotten a job at another school, and we had been left behind to lead a band under the direction of a much more incompetent one. we were stressed all the time, younger kids were turning their backs on us in a desperate attempt to defend this guy since they had to live with him for longer, we’d been losing friends and struggling and breaking down on a daily basis for probably somewhere around two months at that point. every inside joke and moment of levity and scrap of joy was clung to like a life raft, because we were watching the thing we’d loved for three whole years be destroyed right before our eyes. on top of that, we were being blamed for the destruction despite only being 17 years old, only able to cause so much change.

the singers come in. my friend realizes what I’ve done. she starts laughing. I let myself laugh out loud now, head banging and bopping along with the song. tears are streaming down her face now, too, they keep streaming down mine. we can’t find the line between tears of sorrow and tears of overwhelming joy. is there one? or are both emotions one in the same? 

so then, like with How Do You Sleep, it became a tradition to play it on every car ride home from band practice. I’d slip it somewhere into the queue while driving or she’d set it before getting into the car so that she could surprise me. it became our thing, that no matter what had happened that day or who had yelled at us or what ridiculous responsibilities we’d had to take on, we had something to look forward to and rely on. we had the motherfucking Russian National Anthem. 

I bet you didn’t expect there to be a moral to this story, but oh boy, is there ever one. you have find joy wherever you can. even if it’s stupid. even if it doesn’t make sense or you don’t understand why it makes you so happy. even if it’s playing a national anthem that, quite frankly, shouldn’t go as hard as it does.

[sakura-blossom28]

Modern Day Romance

Chapter 1

So I gave up on my other Gaara x Sakura fanfiction lol but it just made me sad to write.  So I’m writing this one and hopefully, it’ll be a little bit more upbeat since I myself and doing better.  I put a lot of myself into this, but I also want to make the best situations for the characters and hope I’ll be in a good relationship one day too!  Just trying to speak into the universe through writing and getting my feelings out there as well cause it has been rough the last few months.  Thought I was doing better but life always has other plans! 

Obviously, this is a modern au, but no COVID in this world cause I don’t want it! lol please let me know what you think!  Also planning on the next chapter to be Gaara’s perspective to change up my writing style!  

I do not own Naruto!  

...

No.  No.  Too short.  Too far away.  Swipe, swipe, swipe.

Sakura laid in her bed looking at the eligible bleachers that were in a 20 mile radius.  The internet had turned into her only means of dating in the last few years.  Having finished her master’s in nursing while working on top of that with her mentor, she finally was ready for a serious relationship.  It was harder than she initially thought.  

With the start of summer right around the corner, Sakura was finally ready to get back out there.  She got out of a very serious one-sided relationship back in the winter, right as she was finishing school, that left her devastated beyond repair, or so she thought, but she pushed through and devoted herself to finishing with top marks.  It took a lot of time to get over her ex, but it was worth it.  All those endless nights of crying over her textbooks allowed her to do some real digging and showed her that the person she loved with her whole heart was in fact, not good enough for her.  

It was strange getting over someone you thought you loved. For Sakura, it was easy getting over him but the hard part was that she lost her friends in the process.  They had chosen him over her, and it was finally obvious.  That’s what was killing Sakura at the moment.  

Earlier that day was Sakura’s day off in what felt like forever.  She was so excited to finally be able to spend time with her friends that she woke up early to be able to make plans with them.  Sakura text Hinata and TenTen first because she knew Naruto wouldn’t answer and she never really was that close to Neji. She had a beach day in mind, she was so pale compared to everyone else she saw because she was always at work or in trying to get some studying in.  

It didn’t take too long to get an answer from Hinata, but unfortunately, both girls were busy that day and wouldn’t be able to see her.  Bummed by the news Sakura crawled back into bed not sure what she would do now.  The beach wasn’t worth driving all the way there to pay for just herself.  She decided to lay in bed for a little while longer hoping that she could think of something fun to do by herself.

When Sakura awoke she lazily was scrolling through her social media accounts and saw something that made her heart drop into her stomach.  There on Hinata’s story was her and everyone else already at the beach.  Everyone was smiling and having a good time from what it seemed.  Sakura even noticed a new girl with red hair and glasses that she had never seen before.  Then next to the girl was him.  

Sakura made sure after the breakup that she muted everything on social media to help her heal.  She also made a strict rule to never look at any of his profiles because it would just upset her more.  Their relationship was over and there was no going back.  She was getting better.  The sight of his name liking things on Naruto’s page didn’t upset her so much anymore, which was a big sign of progress to Sakura.  In all honesty, Sakura felt okay seeing his face and seeing this new girl that he was clearly with.  She was more upset with her friends. Sure they had been there for her when they first broke up, but this wasn’t the first time that Sakura knew they were all hanging out and didn’t attempt to invite her.

They chose him.  Time to let them go, the voice in her mind said.  

This old habit had come back to her within the last year.  A sign to Sakura about how unhappy she was with Sasuke because that voice always tried to warn her about the red flags, but Sakura was too stubborn to listen.  Now it seemed that voice was the only person she talked to anymore.  

Why are they doing this?  I thought we all could have gotten along once in a while.  Didn’t he say I should still be friends with them?

Clearly, they don’t think the same way.  You knew your friendship with them had an expiration date.  They’re hurting you.  We don’t let people do that anymore remember? 

Sakura weeded through a lot of unhappy thoughts to get where she was today. She made a lot of promises to herself to be stronger than she used to be. Somehow she lost a sense of herself along the way and she would never sacrifice that again no matter who it was, friend or partner.  

She closed the app and went to text her best friend Ino.  They were so close and could tell each other everything, but Ino moved away to the city a few years ago and was living life to the fullest in Sakura’s eyes.  She had only met Sasuke once and Sakura didn’t reach out when they broke up anyway.  Ino just seemed so busy to Sakura that she didn’t want to bother her.  She could really use a friend right now.  

It seemed like every person she thought of was in a relationship besides herself. Why was dating so hard for her?  Everyone else was clearly doing something she wasn’t.  She never even had a relationship that lasted longer than 6 months.  She couldn’t even go out and meet someone at a bar because now she had no friends to go out with, not that Hinata and TenTen would have gone with her anyway.  All their comforting words came back to her when she first got dumped, was it all a lie?

Sakura was the type of person to say something and mean it.  If she said she’d help then she would even if it was months down the line, she would always keep her word.  Hinata and TenTen promised they would still be friends and hang out, but that only happened once.  A few messages now and again, but Sakura definitely felt a weird shift with Hinata one day.  It had been months after the breakup and Sakura was having a bad day and tried to talk to her about it, but at the mention of Sasuke and how upset he used to make Sakura because he ignored her all the time, Hinata clammed up and almost refused to believe Sasuke would have done something like that.  From that day on, Sakura never brought him up again.  

Jumping out of bed, Sakura was already tired of feeling bad for herself.  Anger always helped her move forward.  If they couldn’t be fair and hang out with both of them, then fine, she would find new friends!  No one was ever going to waste her time again!  She got herself ready for a day devoted to things that made her happy.

X

The men in her area left a lot to be desired.  For some reason, the only guys who seemed to like her were incredibly short.  Her not being that tall herself it shouldn’t have bugged her, but with past dates with guys that were short always turned out horrible for her, so she stayed clear.  Any decent guy that she found always seemed to be just too far away or even out of state which irritated her to no end.

The following weeks were a challenge for Sakura.  Matching with a few different guys was exciting, but none seemed too interested in her enough to ask her out and they just ended up ghosting her.  Some were a bit more forward in just coming out and saying they were looking for a casual fling.  At least these guys had the decency to be outright in what they wanted.  Sakura respectfully declined each offer.  

Finally, after talking to a nice guy named Zaku, things seemed to be looking up for Sakura.  They talked for about two weeks before he finally asked her out. The date was pleasant enough, but Sakura just didn’t feel that spark that she craved. Maybe it’ll get better, she thought, but alas Sakura had no such luck.  

A week passed after the date and Zaku made no effort in saying he wanted to see her again.  It frustrated Sakura to no end.  Here she was giving all the effort once and to have nothing reciprocated.  Sure there was no spark, but she thought it was a good change of pace after being totally obsessive over Sasuke. She thought maybe the guy would like her more, but this is exhausting.  They ended things amicably, but Sakura felt a bit hurt when he didn’t really give a reaction when she said they should see other people.  

Since then no one had really caught her attention.  Sure she was matching with guys, but once again they would stop talking to her after a few days.  Sakura was about to give up all hope and just accept that love wasn’t meant for her when a guy named Gaara popped up on her scene.  Now he typically wasn’t her type, but there was something about him that made her want to look at him more.

He was 5’10”, red hair, and had green eyes that were a very close shade to hers.  He seemed to be the polar opposite to her.  He mostly wore dark clothing but in a very tasteful way.  He definitely had his own style and fashion sense which was really refreshing.  Gaara wasn’t smiling in most of his pictures, but the last picture of his profile must have been taken by one of his friends at a party because he was laughing with a guy with big eyebrows who had a funny look on his face.  He looked so handsome and attractive to Sakura in that picture that she instantly liked it.  

She quickly realized what she had done and checked over her own profile to make sure nothing was too embarrassing on there.  She tried to think of some cute answers to put on there and some pictures of her over the years.  Nothing was that recent because all the pictures from the last year had been deleted. Looking over the pictures she seemed normal enough, but she was worried that Gaara would think she’s too preppy for him to like her.  The only thing that stood out to her was her music taste.  She did like a few rock bands, so hopefully that would intrigue him.  

Sakura hadn’t felt this much attraction for someone in a long time.  She looked over his profile and tried to memorize everything.  She didn’t even care if he was out of state.  Thankfully he was about a 20 minute drive away from where she lived.  The only issue she found with him was that he smoked, but maybe he would be considerate and not smoke around her.  One picture was him sitting by a window reading a book as he was surrounded by many potted cacti.  Sakura could just picture the rest of the room and imagine the two of them spending time together just relaxing.  

Don’t do that to yourself.  He didn’t even like you back yet, don’t go imagining things, the voice said.

Sighing, Sakura knew the voice was right.  She always got herself into a mess thinking about things before they happened.  She knew this bad habit caused a lot of problems for herself when she was in a relationship with someone.  She built up this imaginary person in her mind and got upset when they didn’t act that way in real life.  On the other hand, it did help her to see that the guys she was dating weren’t a right fit for her because she was imagining the bare minimum of a decent relationship.  

She was about to turn off her phone and do something else with her time, but she got a new notification.  Gaara has matched with you!  See what he said.

With her body moving faster than her mind, she opened the message.   

Ch 2 

[mirkwoodshewolf]

The underwater act; Roger Taylor x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay people I managed to do this in ONE sitting so I hope you all enjoy the first fate you all have chosen. As stated before this is a DARK THEMED story so expect DEATH, SEDUCTION, make out sessions (not anything graphic like PG-13 stuff) and of course this was a no brainier of who fit this section. Now you can read any of these parts either as the real Queen boys or the BoRhap boys playing Queen. I leave it all up to you all :)

Hope you all enjoy this part. Read on.......... If you dare *cue Winifred Sanderson laugh*

Main intro

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@geek-and-proud

@queendeakyy

@coolcxt

@mexifangorl

____________________________________________________________

You walk towards the water tank hoping to maybe catch a glimpse at the handsome ‘merman’ you’ve chosen to nickname him.  Soon enough you’re now backstage where you see the giant water tank that is about half the size of an Olympic swimming pool.

You look through the clear tank to look through the dark water hoping to find him somehow.  Soon enough a flash of a figure swims by, but what was odd was that it looked like a fish tail of some sorts.

“I saw you staring at me.” You jump at the sudden soft voice that spoke.  Looking up you see the handsome blonde angel.  Getting a closer look at him, the first thing that catches your eye are his eyes.  Those hypnotic blue orbs that are just so entrancing. “Seems I’ve ensnared another one eh?” he chuckled.  You shake your head and said.

“I—I’m sorry I-I-I didn’t mean to stare.”

“I’m not offended love.” Hearing him call you love makes a blush appear across your cheeks.  He chuckles softly and says again “Why don’t you come a bit closer love?”

“How?”

“Go that way and you’ll see a staircase, go up along it and you’ll reach the platform of the tank where I do my dive ins.” You go to the right and soon enough you see it, a bleacher style staircase. Going up it, you soon arrive at the flat platform that literally touches the water but there’s no sign of the blonde haired swimmer.

You look around until suddenly you feel a splash of water hit you from the side.

“Hey!”

“Sorry love, I couldn’t help myself.” He said as he leaned against the platform on his elbows. “Please have a seat, make yourself comfortable.” Looking down seeing how the water pulls in and out of the platform (kinda like how they do at SeaWorld), you debate on it thinking if you do, your clothes will end up wet.  But if not then it just seems unfair since he’s willing to allow you to take a seat.

So you figured that since it was time to throw those old jeans out anyways, a little water wouldn’t do you harm.  You sit down next to him and he says.

“What’s your name love?”

“(Y/n).”

“Ahh, such a beautiful name. It suits you. I’m Roger. Roger Taylor.” You turn your head and blush again at his little flirtation. “Oh please don’t look away.” He reaches out and has you look back to him. “One such as yourself should never have to look away.”

“I bet you say that to everyone who comes to see you.” You say trying to brush it off.  Cause come on, this guy was extremely handsome, and you couldn’t be the only one who has probably come to see him in his travels around the world.

“It’s just been you.” You look at him skeptically. “No really it’s true. I mean yeah on the outside I may appear ‘attractive’ to the normal human eye. But—people say that beauty hides the beast within.” He looked around anxiously and whispered to you, “Between the other acts, the ringleader hates me the most. Calls me an underwater demon, says that I’m hardly a part of the show. That all I do are underwater tricks.”

“Roger.” You mutter his name.

“And when I don’t perform right—well……let’s just say the animals here aren’t the only ones to feel the end of a whip.” You place your hand over your mouth as you stare at him in pure horror.

“Oh Roger I…..I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. That’s—just the way circus life is. You don’t work hard, you’re persuaded, rewarded or punished.”

“And—I thought all circus performers were treated kindly by their fellow acts and were like a family.” He then let out a laugh. You look at him offendedly.

“Oh (y/n) I don’t mean to offend. They truly market circuses as some sort of paradise don’t they? Like any relationship or business they don’t want what’s behind the curtains to be revealed. That’s how you lose business. Especially with John Reid, our ringleader.”

“Have—have you ever thought about….quitting? Running away maybe?”

“Once in a while. But then were would someone like me go? What would I do for a living. Even if I did try to run, Reid has spies everywhere. He’d easily find us and drag us back. Happened once with Deacy, the pipe player. I’d—rather not talk about what Reid did to him.”

What you say next was extreme and so unlike you, but hearing this story just touched you to your core, and seeing him so solemn and fearful at reliving the horrifying memories just made you want to help.

“If—if you ever need a place to stay. I’ve got space. It’s not much but I think it’s homely.”

“Ohh such a precious thing you are lovie,” he cupped the side of your face forcing you to look directly at him.  Unlike before, he was now leaning close to your face, your noses almost touching each other’s.  “A pure soul, and a heart of gold. Oh that reminds me, I want to give you something. Do you mind waiting here for a moment?”

“Not at all.” You whisper.  He grins before diving right down into the dark waters. You let out a sigh you didn’t know you had in you as your heart was racing erratically.  You place your hand over your chest, thinking that it was going to just jump right out when Roger came back with a beautiful necklace.

“I found it among our travels around the world. I—think it would look beautiful on you.” He then held out a golden necklace. At the center was a gold heart and hanging right at the center of that heart was a beautiful pearl.

“Oh Roger it’s—it’s beautiful.” You said in awe.

“I thought you’d like it. It’s perfect for someone like you. Here, allow me.” You kneel down and go to the edge of the platform so that Roger could place the necklace around your neck. “That’s it. Just—a little closer…..and…..” You feel him place the necklace around your neck but in a split second you find yourself being pulled into the water.

You quickly swim back up to the surface coughing up water.  Roger peeks out from the water chuckling cheekily, his blue eyes glowing with mischief.

“Roger!”

“Sorry love, I just couldn’t resist pulling you in. I have been known to be a bit mischievous at times, did I forget to mention that?”

“Yeah.” You exaggerated.

“Well, how could one resist an evening swim? Even with the cold breeze, the water still remains warm. And since your clothes are soaked, might as well have a bit of fun? Wouldn’t you agree, hmm?” he said as he swam closer to you.

You might’ve gone crazy but you could swear you felt his arm wrap around your waist.  Thinking it wouldn’t hurt, plus who knows when you’d get to swim in a pool this big?

“Well—I guess it couldn’t hurt to have a little dip.”

“See? I’m glad that you agree.” He takes both of your hands and swims you our further along the pool till it looked like you were at the center.

“So—how do you manage to do all those underwater acts so long?” you just had to ask.

“Ohh now that—that’s a family secret.” He cheekily winked at you before bopping your nose.

“So has your family been in the circus?”

“Well not really, I’m a first generation circus performer. But—my family has held secrets for holding their breaths underwater longer than the normal man.” You were in awe.

Roger keeps his eyes locked with yours and you couldn’t look away from his.  He gently strokes your cheek with his thumb and he whispered.

“So soft…..so warm…..so—beautiful.” You feel your cheeks heating up again as you start to swim closer to her, but you begin to struggle as your clothes start to drag you down.  “Ohh poor thing, here let me.”

He goes behind you and you feel his arms wrap around you pulling you close.

“There. Isn’t that better?” you can’t speak so you just nod. “Yes, you can lean against me if you wish.” You then lean against his strong body, feeling his toned muscles.  “(Y/n), do you trust me?” he whispers deeply in your ear.  Feeling his lips graze along the shell of your ear, waiting for you to respond, but—you secretly prayed it was for another reason.

“Yes.”

“Excellent. Deep breath love.” You take in a deep breath of air and soon you both are consumed by the water.  You slowly open your eyes feeling yourself sink freely to the bottom.  Roger soon appears in front of you, his arms wrapping around you once more.  His long hair now a gentle, wavy golden halo.

Then what happened next was shocking.  Roger then began to sing to you.  At first you began to question how it was possible but at the first note, you were in a trace.

If his looks weren’t enough to seduce someone, then it was definitely his voice.  His was like a perfect low range, it had a growl affect at some points but it was so hypnotic.

As he sung to you, he slowly brought you lower and lower down the tank till you were sitting at the bottom.  Even with your lungs burning and desperate for air, you didn’t seem to care for whatever reason.

All that mattered was Roger’s touch and his voice.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

Come all you pretty fair maids Whoever you may be Who love a jolly sailor That plows the raging sea

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

By the end of the song, his lips brushed against yours before finally capturing them in a proper kiss.  At this point you felt like your heart had stopped, his warm lips kissing yours underwater.  It was probably the most romantic thing ever to happen to you.

Without hesitating you wrap your arms around his shoulders hoping to bring him closer, his arms wrap further around yours as he deepens the kiss.  You then feel his tongue peek out and stroke against yours, wanting entrance.

Do you dare? Even underwater do you risk it, even if you didn’t it was beyond you because you were now under Roger’s spell. You freely give him access and there’s no point in fighting.  You allow him to venture every corner, every inch of your mouth, his tongue completely dominating over yours.

You let out a deep moan and you feel him smirk in the kiss as he pulls away.  Already breathless you somehow manage a whimper but he goes right back and kisses you once more.  You then feel him kiss along your jaw, down your neck.

He places his thumb and index finger under your chin and tilted it to its side.  Of course you comply as you feel his lips kiss up and down your neck. Feeling the burning passion and your stomach burning from the inside with lust, you close your eyes and wrap a hand around Roger’s head, pulling him closer as he continues to kiss up and down your neck.

You had never felt such lust nor love in your life. He knew exactly what he was doing to drive you crazy.  From the gentle pecks at the top of your neck, the teasing love bites at the center, and licking at the junction where your neck and shoulder met.

You wanted to cry out his name so badly but the water denied you of your speech, but Roger must’ve known you wanted no needed more.  He gently had you lay down so that your back now touched the floor, your eyes ever leaving each other’s.

He smiled at you and kissed your forehead, nose, both cheeks and finally your lips.

“My beautiful pearl. You are one of a kind. So beautiful lying under me. I can’t wait to take you right here, right now. My jolly sailor bold.” He giggled as he cupped your face once more.  “Stay with me. Please say you’ll stay here. We can spend eternity like this. Together forever. Please say you’ll stay my love.”

In your dazed state you nod.  He smiled and kissed you once more on the lips.

“Thank you my love, thank you.” With each thank you, his kisses got lower, as did his voice.  Suddenly there was this immense pain that somehow woke you up from your daze. You saw that the water was now spurting out red.  You struggled but Roger kept a firm grip on your arms.

His head not once leaving your neck as the pain in your neck grew more agonizing by the second.  Finally you kick him off and that’s when you see him in his true form.

Long claw-like nails, a long blue fish tail had now replaced his feet, his skin went from the glorious tannish color to a dolphin like grey, but what frightened you the most were the eyes and teeth.  Sharp, razor shark-like teeth and pure black eyes that appeared lifeless like a doll’s eye.

Quickly thinking, you put pressure on your neck and try to swim up.  However you don’t get far as Roger immediately has a grip on your ankle. You try to kick him but his grip is iron tight.  He swims up to you and he snarls out.

“As I said. Beauty hides the beast. And just like the last girl who wore this necklace, you fell for the same story she did.” What? So….he….this was all a lie? Oh god what have you done? “No need to fear my love, it only hurts for a moment, but then bliss comes after.” He then immediately sinks his teeth into you and you finally let out a scream.

From above the pool, the once calm blue water was now stained red.  Nearby the cat tamer, the magician and the pipe player merely stared and did nothing.

“Got himself another one.” Said the cat tamer as he fiddled with his whip.

“His looks get them every time.” The pip player stated.

“Humans never learn. Beauty can truly hide the beast within.”

[maarmendes]

Assistant #1

Member: Jung Hoseok (J-Hope) Genre: Angst; Fluff Word Count: 2184 Summary: After so long together, Hoseok and his assistant have become closer than ever. Unfortunately for them, there will always be someone trying to ruin something perfectly good.

A/N: this is another one of my “it happened once in a dream” shortstories I wrote years ago, again sorry if it’s cringe worth lmao

It was just another day for me. My daily routine was the same as it has been for the last couple of years.

Wake up, eat, get to work, check his schedule, meet him, help him, be by his side.

Some would say my routine is pretty much "eat, work and sleep", but they haven't met him yet. Working as his assistant is like being his best friend. I just have to help him, feed him, and keep him company. It's more like I've adopted a puppy, actually... and somehow get paid for it! As usual, I arrived earlier at the photoshoot and took my time double-checking everything and making sure they were prepared for when he arrived. I was checking his schedule for the day when I heard screams outside. Someone must have leaked the location of the photoshoot and some fans were waiting for him to arrive.

I rushed to meet him at the door, his bodyguards hiding him from the crowd outside.

"Hobi! Are you okay?! I'm so sorry! If I knew this would happen I-" He cut me off, swinging his arm around my shoulders.

"Did you publish something online about how you'd meet me here today? No, you didn't! And I know that because I follow you on social media and you barely do anything, except retweet cat videos." He graced me with one of his perfect smiles and patted my head while I pouted at his very well-placed insult and mumbled something about him liking them too.

That's what made working for Hoseok so much fun. He treats everyone like a precious friend of his, especially the ones working closer to him. In the beginning I thought I was different from everyone else. He would treat me way too nicely. He'd lend me his jacket on cold days, give me a ride home on rainy days, buy me drinks when I had to stay in the studio with him for too long... But I brushed it off as me overthinking everything. I was probably putting myself on a stupid high horse for nothing.

I never asked for this job. I never even applied to it. My goal was to work close to well-known producers in order to learn from them and gain experience. I always wanted to make music but the company didn't take me seriously. They made me Hobi's assistant instead of letting me work in the studio. He needed help since he was getting really famous really fast, and that's where they put me.

At first, I was outraged. They thought I couldn't do it because I was a woman! But now I can't bring myself to leave...

Working for him became exactly what I wanted.

After the photoshoot we had a few hours to rest and eat before the soundcheck for Hobi's concert. It was the first concert of his tour around Asia, and, if it went well, we could begin the preparation for his first world tour! I couldn't help myself from staring at him, filled with pride for everything he had accomplished.

"You're quiet and staring at me... Have you finally realized you're in love with me?"

A smirk grew on his face as my love-filled stare, turned into a glare.

"I was having a moment here... Thank you for ruining that." He chuckled and kept eating his noodles. "By the way, eating out was a great idea! We could call it a celebration and you should let me treat you."

"No way! You buy me stuff all the time! I'm treating you." He said stubbornly with a mouth full. I leaned in and wiped his mouth for him.

"Alright, alright! No need to spit food out to make a point."

A victorious smile grew on his face as he realized I had finally let him buy me a meal.

We ate in a comfortable silence and soon made our way to the concert venue. I organized our arrival to be as discreet as possible, but when we arrived, we were still met with fans waiting by the entrance. I took a mental note to complain about these information leaks later.

The bodyguards did their best to hold the fans back, even if they greatly outnumbered them. Soon it became hard to walk as people tried to circle Hoseok. I suddenly felt a hand pull my arm and pulling in. Looking up, I saw Hobi already looking back at me with a concerned look. I smiled at him, hoping I could ease his worries as he pulled me through the crowd.

I could hear some fans questioning me, asking who I was and why was I so close to J-Hope. Others would simply call me filthy names. I was used to it - it never really bothered me - but I knew Hoseok hated it. I could feel his hand tightening around my wrist, and I knew he'd apologize for days because of this. I smiled to myself at how predictable he had become and leaned closer to him.

Once inside, he didn't let go. I knew he was feeling bad so I placed my hand gently over his, rubbing my thumb on it.

"Hobi, it's okay. You can let go now, I'm fine!" I gave him a bright smile once he turned to face me, but he wasn't buying it.

"You always say that, but it shouldn't be okay! You should be angry at me-"

"No, I should not." I stopped him. "I don't care about it. So go, do the things you do and be awesome! I'll be here when you're done. With snacks." He graced me a soft smile before messing my hair.

"You make it sound like I'm not always awesome!" He finally lets go of my hand and starts making his way to the dressing room. "Buy me Sprite!" He called over his shoulder before disappearing down another corridor.

I felt bad for lying to him... Obviously, all those mean comments would hurt anyone, but I couldn't let him worry about this. Not now, at least.

I decided it would be best to grab some fresh air before the concert. I just had to be back in an hour, so I decided to walk for a while to find a nice coffee place to work in for a while. A few emails, calls, and reports later, it was time for me to go back. As I arrived at the venue entrance, I noticed something was missing... My staff card.

I had no ID on me. I could've sworn I put it in my jacket... but it was gone.

"I'm gonna get scolded so hard for this..." but I had to call someone to come get me.

Hoseok was obviously busy, so I tried calling some staff members until one of the sound engineers picked up and came for me. I apologized a million times and promised I'd treat him to a meal later, then I bolted towards the dressing room. I was already late as it was and I wanted to see Hobi before his performance.

The door's open, so maybe he-

"I can't believe you did that! How is she going to get back without her card?"

I stopped by the open door. Female staff were gossiping and laughing among themselves.

"I hope she doesn't. She's so clingy... It's so annoying!"

"Why do you even bother? She's not worth it."

"She's a nuisance." She scoffed. "We should be the ones close to him and yet she's always there! We dress him and everything and yet she's the only one close to him. That's so stupid!"

"At least we get to be alone with him now."

The girls kept squealing and gossiping about how attractive Hoseok was. I knew I shouldn't have eavesdropped, and it's not like I care about what they say about me, but...

Was I a nuisance?

Was I annoying to Hobi?

Maybe he wanted to invite someone else for lunch...

or to keep him company at the studio...

but I was in the way...

Maybe... Was I always in his way?

Something burned in my chest. I didn't want Hobi to think of me like that. I unconsciously held my hand against my chest. Suddenly, someone walked past me and I jumped. Hoseok walked into the dressing room and closed the door.

Did he not see me?

Or maybe... he didn't even notice me?

I shook those bad feelings away and decided it would be better to go watch his performance. He'd be fine anyway. After all he's J-hope!

Before long the show was over and, as always, Hobi gave an amazing performance. After years of watching him, I knew he'd complain about failing here and there but, if he could see himself on stage, he'd know how amazing he actually was. I walked as fast as I could towards his dressing room but found it empty. No staff. No Hobi. I started getting worried as I asked around but no one seemed to have seen him after he left the stage.

Something wasn't right...

He'd always run back and ask how he did. He never disappeared like this!

After a few minutes of running around looking for him, I spotted him on the bleachers. He had his head on his hands and didn't seem alright at all.

"Hobi?" I called out softly as I walked closer to him. "What's the matter? What happened? Are you hurt?"

He tilted his head up to look at me, tears threatening to fall down his face. I'd never seen him like this.

"I'm sorry... it's my fault."

"What are you talking about? You didn't do anything wrong!" I sat beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing softly to comfort him.

"I did! I made your life a living hell!" He inhaled sharply, trying to hold in his tears. "People mistreat you! They call you names and they play these stupid pranks on you! And... And-"

"Hoseok!" I held his face, making him look me in the eyes. "That's not your fault and I don't care about them."

"Like hell you don't!" He pushed my hands away. "I saw you! You heard them and you just..." He showed me such a pain-filled expression I wish I'd never see on him. "Stood there!" He took a deep breath to calm himself. "I know it hurts you. And I know you do it for me!"

Confusion filled my mind as I stared at him, not understanding where he was getting at.

"I know you don't want to work with me..." He sighed. "I overheard some producers talking about how you tried to work with them but no one took you seriously. You're being forced to work for me." He dropped his head back onto his hands. "You probably hate me..."

I punched his shoulder has hard I could bring myself to. "Are you stupid?!"

He stared at me wide-eyed.

"I work for you because I like it! Like hell I'd let someone play me like that! Yes, I do want to be a producer. But no, I don't hate working for you. I love it! I always feel guilty for having so much fun!" I scoffed. "You make it feel like I'm just hanging out with you all the time." I wiped a stubborn tear away, hoping he didn't notice. "You're such an idiot... We both are. You're worried about me and I'm worried about you."

"You're worried about me?" We were both looking at the floor. Afraid to face each other.

"Yeah..." I took a deep breath and smiled at him. "When I hear people talking, they always say I'm stuck like glue to you. It got me thinking that..." I looked away, mumbling lowly. "Maybe I bother you too much... and that I should-"

"You should stop being an idiot too." He interrupted and stared at me. "I want to be with you. And I want you to be with me." It was his turn to look away just when I noticed a slight blush on his cheeks, but he was brave enough to look back at me again before continuing. "I like it... I like that you're always there with me. I hate that you think otherwise."

We stared at each other for a while. It seemed like none of us knew what to say anymore or what anything we said meant. We fell into a comfortable silence, both digesting what happened, until he broke the silence.

"You don't hate me?"

"I don't think I could even if I tried." He gave me one of his smiles and I smiled back.

"I hate when you fake a smile at me. Your real smile is so much brighter." His comment won him a giggle as I laid my head on his shoulder.

"Hobi?"

"Yes?"

"I forgot your Sprite."

He paused for a moment, staring deeply into my eyes with a serious look on his face before kissing my forehead and wrapping his arm around me.

"You're the worst assistant ever. I'm leaving you an awful yelp review."

"Asshole."

[MASTERLIST]

[cricketrigby]

* ( kristine froseth ) ⁠— cricket rigby has lived in somewhere for 23 years, which is crazy considering they are only twenty three.  you can usually find her working at the somewhere roller rink . when i think of strawberry bubblegum, heart shaped sunglasses, & twirling the stem of a rose between your fingertips, i can’t help but think of them as well. ( pepper, twenty four, she/her, est )

ABOUT THE MUN.  sick of thinking! won’t be doing that again

hello all! my name is pepper and i have never been on time for anything ever in my life so it’s pretty fitting that i’m the last one to get my intro up dkjdkj love this for me,,, always on brand. anyways, i am Returning to the rpc kind of maybe after a month hiatus and i wanted something cute and chill to try and get back into the swing of things... i’m hoping this group will be that! but yeah please bear with me i am Definitely going to be a bit rusty,,,, and i am sorry in advance. but Anyways, enough about that and onto some fun facts about me. to start, i just turned twenty four two weeks ago and i am Still in shock about it so jot that down, i hate it here. i have like,,, the opposite of a green thumb, i have killed every plant i have ever had, rip peter the succulent you were a good egg. i regularly say i’m feeling ___ in this chillis tonight despite never being to chillis. i enjoy garbage movies, like the worse it is the better (tyler perry movies, the fast and the furious series, etc). i straight up don’t get like critically acclaimed movies i’m ngl,,, like really like Great movies go straight over my head rip but Anyways moving on to who we’re all here for, ms cricket rigby ! 

BIO.  we need sluttier music….. 

cricket juliet rigby was born to arthur godwin rigby and sonya marie rigby nee bankcult right here in good old somewhere florida. the story is that her parents were actually on their way out of town when cricket decided to ‘jump’ out of her mother’s belly and arrive to the party early. her parents always liked to tell the story like it was cute or funny or something but kit always saw it a bit differently. she had her chance to get out and she screwed it up. and now she’s literally never left this hell hole since. it’s like she got impatient and accidentally screwed herself over for it. and if that isn’t foreshadowing for the rest of her life she doesn’t know what is.

it was her mom’s idea to name her cricket. she said it was because of the way she used to kick with both legs in the womb. like she was jumping. her father found her name ridiculous and insisted on calling her juliet, but that was to be expected. her mother was always the fanciful one out of the pair of them. you see, ricki’s father was a pretty successful lawyer and her mother was a children’s book illustrator. to put it simply her father was the type of person to give kids floss on halloween and her mother was the type to slip you a cookie when the ‘adults’ weren’t looking. they were complete opposites, honestly to the point where sometimes cricket didn’t even understand how her parents got together. but somehow against all odds they did, and they stayed together to boot. loved each other too. her mother always made her father loosen up a bit and her father usually kept her mother grounded. they suited each other, and they adored each other in a way cricket never really saw any other parents doing. well, until they didn’t. 

if cricket didn’t understand how her parents got together she sure understood why they didn’t stay together. you’d have to be blind as a bat to not see that one coming.

her parents fought constantly as cricket got older. the kind of loud, explosive fights that woke a kid up in the middle of the night and made the neighbors look at you with sympathy. there was no abuse or anything serious like that, or even cheating. her parents simply stopped liking each other. and that was honestly even scarier. that her parents could simply wake up one day and not like each other anymore. 

they called it quits when cricket turned thirteen. her mother broke the news to her over a shared joint on the beach. and honestly, it wasn’t really the kind of news you wanted to process while high, but well, nobody ever asked cricket. nobody ever really asked cricket anything. 

but well, her mother asked cricket one thing. to break the news to her little sister. cause yeah, she had one of those. kimberly. a regular sensible name for a regular sensible girl. not that there’s anything wrong with being regular or sensible. it’s just that cricket and her mother were neither of those things. if cricket took after her mother, then kimberly took after their father. her baby sister wanted to be an accountant for god’s sake. what six year old wants to be an accountant? 

anyways, cricket played messenger. she broke the news to her sister and comforted her in the aftermath. she listened to her mother as she told fanciful, beautiful stories about how much more she wanted from her life. and one sunny thursday afternoon, the very thursday she got her first period, the very thursday that a girl really needs her mom, like really needs her mom, she came home and didn’t have one anymore. or a sister either apparently. all she had was a dad crumpled on the living room floor around a heart shaped sticky note of all things. 

who leaves their fucking family with a fucking sticky note?

apparently dad was the only one in the family who didn’t know he and mom were over. cricket would feel bad about it if she wasn’t so busy feeling sorry for herself. because apparently her mother packed up her and kimmy’s things, picked up kimberly from school and just left somewhere forever. leaving cricket behind. just like that. cricket didn’t understand it. just the night before her and her mother were laying back on her bed, laughing. and now she was tossed aside like a discarded toy. second best in a two person race. cricket had never quite dealt with abandonment until that moment, but her first taste of it hurt like a bitch. it hurt all over. 

but things only got worse. cause then came stella. stella was cricket’s godmother. her mother’s best friend. the woman who would slip cricket money so she could buy herself a red lipstick at the mac counter or pick herself up that tube top she’d been wanting so badly. the woman who came with cricket and her mother when she got her first bra. the woman who was supposed to be there for her in the aftermath of all this. but apparently stella took the job a bit too seriously. 

she fucked her father. and not long after that she married him. cricket fought them every step of the way, but they still did it. and well, she had to live with it. her mother and best friend was gone, and this impostor was taking her place. and her father was just letting it all happen. in fact he was happy to do it. that’s what he kept telling her anyways. to let him be happy. that he deserved to be happy. but didn’t she deserve to be happy too?

her mother sent letters sometimes, and kimmy would occasionally call the house. cricket never opened the letters, and she never really spoke much to kimmy. i mean, it wasn’t kimberly’s fault, and cricket knew that. after all, she was six. she never had a choice either. but cricket couldn’t help being jealous of the little shit. kimberly missed dad so much and she wanted to come home. but she was out of somewhere, and she was with mom. she had everything cricket ever wanted and she wasn’t even appreciating it. it was a hard pill to swallow. eventually cricket started cutting the calls short. 

cricket and her father never saw eye to eye. he kicked her out of the house when she was seventeen after an argument between cricket and stella got so bad that things got physical on both their parts. and instead of kicking out the woman who hit his daughter, arthur got rid of the daughter instead. cricket didn’t mind. she simply went to live with her boyfriend at the time (who much like all of cricket’s boyfriends in the past was handsome, cool, and most importantly old enough to have his own place). after that she never really turned back. just... moved from boyfriends place to boyfriends place to girlfriends place to boyfriends place. saw her dad on holidays or when she needed money or under duress. and stayed in somewhere. for now. 

PERSONALITY.  feeling like the prettiest girl in the crawl space right now

as you can probably tell from that mess of an bio, this is my first time playing cricket so i don’t really have her personality nailed down yet BUT

ECCENTRIC. cricket got her mother’s weird hippy gene for sure honestly. she might even be an artist lowkey because of it. definitely is the type to just say weird as hell shit without shame. your local manic pixie dream girl tbh 

PROMISCUOUS. she a hoe and that’s a fact. love that for her though! gets around and is pretty shameless about it honestly. just here for a good time. kind of charming naturally and just generally like?? flirtatious?? the type to flirt with a cop to get out of a ticket. also the type to cry to get out of a really bad dad. the type to go on a date just cause her fridge is empty and yk a girl’s gotta eat. the kind of girl who had a bunch of rumours about her in high school like that she slept with so and so under the bleachers at an assembly or that she once did something nearly impossible on a trampoline. 

CONTRADICTORY. cricket is a compassionate person but she can also hold a grudge for a long ass time. still doesn’t really talk to her mom or little sister. but if you need a ride across town cricket will just give it to you even if she barely knows you. if you’re hungry and come to the roller rink she will slip you some fries free of charge even if she’ll probably get in trouble for it. will fight her stepmom ON SIGHT and slam a bitch down during roller derby but like will get so excited over something simple like the moon being out sdkdskj this bitch makes no sense y’all. 

MYSTERIOUS. at least to other people i feel like. cricket doesn’t really talk about herself or serious things, and she will change the topic if someone is getting too close. she’s the type who doesn’t open up easy, and therefore the type that a lot of guys like... idealize and build up into this mysterious untouchable thing yk? but she’s just a dumb girl who doesn’t want to talk about her feelings underneath it all sdkjdkj she’s just stupid

HEADCANNONS. at least whatever is wrong with me is really really funny 

lost her virginity at fourteen around the anniversary of her mother leaving. unfortunately the type who seeks love and acceptance in all the wrong places. tends to self sabotage when things are too good, or literally just go for people who are bad for her. bi af tho hey~ has been in more relationships than she can count for sure. will duck behind a wall when she sees any of her exes at the grocery store.

does ROLLER DERBY! will fight a bitch in the ring! very good at it despite how cute and angelic she looks sdksdk can and WILL slam a bitch into a wall. it’s just a fun hobby for her, but she loved the camraderie of it honestly. her team is a ragtag group of misfits and i Love them 

like i said in the chat, will now put up posters around town with a cute little polaroid of herself and her number on those little tab things just for shits and giggles to see who calls. will completely prank anyone who does call for fun

idk why but i feel like the roller rink is called l8r sk8r or something cheesy like that,,, i feel it in my Soul. also imagine the type of place where cricket goes around on rollerblades serving food, so yeah, you can order food probably and some showy girl on rollerblades will serve it to you 

has been a muse before. like guys have written songs about her in high school. one guy painted a portrait of her and it went in a literal gallery. is always very flattered but very like,,, cool thanks bye! 

i totally forgot to include this but the rigby’s are rich y’all. like country club rich. her daddy’s got that big money and their house is Huge but you would never be able to tell by the way cricket acts, she’s a mess.

speaking of, her name is indeed cricket (rip) but you can call her kit, kitty, rick, ricki, jiminey,,, all of it is valid 

the vibe is madchen amick folks,,, that’s the whole vibe and honestly she’s probably cricket’s style inspo like twin peaks??? maybe her favourite show

a feel like she might also be a lifeguard as a side hustle, but she only ever fills in when no one else can you know. she’s the emergency call in, and when she’s there she spends most of her time sitting in her lifeguard chair in her little red swim suit and flirting with whoever comes by to see her like sdkjsd is she good at her job? no. does she bring traffic to the beach? probably! 

WANTED CONNECTIONS.  i’m saving my brain for special occasions. if i use it every day it’ll get dirty

i would love an ex for her honestly,,, an ex bf or gf where cricket sabotaged things just when they were getting good? an ex on good terms maybe! an ex will they won’t they thing where they almost got together but never did? an old childhood crush for either party! a childhood enemy is also sexy! an old neighbor! someone who’s sibling she used to date or something! someone new to town that she’s intrigued by! someone new to town she doesn’t get along with (maybe cause of a bad first impression or something?) a one night stand! a fwb! a ewb! a BEST FRIEND GOD PLEASE! m or f i am down either way. i would kill for a girl squad though. maybe an ex best friend who hates cricket cause she slept with their boyfriend in high school or something. a party friend! someone she does roller derby with. someone she always sees in the crowd during roller derby. idk someone who she regularly sees at the motel she has her hookups at, maybe cause they’re also hooking up or maybe cause they just come to the motel often for some reason or honestly maybe they’re a vacationer that would make sense. uh someone she saved from drowning one time! OH someone she pretended to be dating to make an ex jealous or avoid one or something at one point,,,and anything else tbh we can absolutely brain storm! like this and i will slide into your dms <3

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 3 of 27: Honesty

Summary:  Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHAPTER 2

A/N: I’ve come to the realization that I’ve changed so much in this story during the past few days and added some chapters that it can probably already count as a slow-burn fic. I guess. Not sure. Have fun! Thanks for the lovely feedback! I love you all to death <3

Words: 3583 Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!Reader, post-war Warnings: mentions of sex, light swearing

It was weird being back at Hogwarts. Something about it still didn’t feel right. After the war, it was unimaginable for you to come back here and finish school. But they took their time and closed it off for over a year. The school got rebuilt, the victims buried, the survivors tried to heal and move on. On the first anniversary of the end of the war, McGonagall – the new headmistress of Hogwarts – publicly announced that the school would open for the coming year and the seventh graders were given the chance to repeat their year.

You were excited about coming back and seeing your friends again, gaining a little bit of normalcy. School, homework, petty drama – you wanted nothing more than to be busy with all of those things. Yet something felt different when you stood in the Great Hall for the first time after your arrival. Something had changed. You had changed.

“You’re daydreaming again, Y/N.”

Ginny’s voice pulled you back into reality. Your best friend sat across from you with her eyebrows raised, chewing on a croissant.

“Tired,” you replied and smiled briefly.

“From what?”, she asked. “You left super early last night!”

“Yeah, because it was super boring.”

The redhead shook her head. “It was not! There was a fight between two Hufflepuffs and that’s the best indicator for a fun party.”

You chuckled. “Is it though?!”

“Or,” suddenly she put down her croissant. A devious smile appeared on her face and she began talking with a lowered voice: “Did you leave the party early with your date to –”

“I beg you to not finish that sentence, please!”

Ginny laughed. “Oh come on! McLaggen is kinda cute!”

“He’s awful.”

“He doesn’t need a good character to –”

“Ginny!” You playfully threw an apple at her. She caught it, laughing. “You’re the worst,” you said and shook your head.

Just when you wanted to change the topic, someone else started walked in. You stopped midsentence, staring at the couple who were coming down the hall, holding hands.

Ginny saw them too and she knew what you were about to do next. “Don’t, Y/N,” she said softly. “Stay here. At some point, you’ll have to face them. They’re our friends. He’s my brother. We have classes together now.”

You knew she was right. Yet, running away still seemed like a better option to you. Ginny sensed that, reached over the table and squeezed your hand. “Stay,” she repeated.

Ron and Hermione sat down right beside you, cheerfully wishing you a good morning. You didn’t reply but smiled at Harry instead who sat down next to Ginny and gave her a kiss. They were a cute couple and you were happy for the both of them. They finally found each other.

The four began to talk right away. It was still exciting to be in the same year as them, to finally share classes and spend so much time together. Well, not for you to be honest. You could happily live without seeing Ron every day.

You tuned out their conversation after a while, still debating whether or not you should leave the table. Your eyes drifted over the other students in the Great Hall and got stuck at the Slytherins. Not many people sat there as most of them had already finished breakfast. Before you knew what you were doing, you noticed he wasn’t here.

You felt a little sting of disappointment and frowned. Where did this came from? As if you cared about seeing Malfoy.

Saying that you didn’t replay that kiss in your mind over and over again would have been a lie. When you left the small room last night, you felt dizzy and confused. Yet you repeatedly told yourself that the kiss meant nothing. It happened so you didn’t get caught. Good god, it was Draco Malfoy, probably the last person in this school you wanted to kiss (well, besides McLaggen). So no. This kiss didn’t mean anything.

“Y/N?”, you turned your head when Hermione said your name.

“Why are you staring at the Slytherins?”, she asked.

You shrugged but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you. “No reason. I was thinking.”

She frowned. Ginny and Harry looked at each other in confusion.

“So? What is it?”, you asked.

“Right, um, we wanted to ask if you’d like to come play Quidditch with us?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you play Quidditch?”

“Ron taught me over the summer,” she smiled at her boyfriend. “Besides, they have to try out for the team in two weeks anyways so why not practice a little.”

You looked at Ron who stared at his plate. He probably felt as comfortable with the thought of you playing together as you did. The way he avoided your eyes made you angry though.

“No, sorry”, you quickly said and suddenly stood up. “Homework.” This was it. You had to leave.

 ***

You gritted your teeth angrily as you made your way up the stairs. God, you still hated him for how he treated you three months ago. You were supposed to be friends and he fucked it all up. Now you could barely stand the sight of him and every encounter left you feeling like you needed to punch a brick wall.

Being so lost in your thoughts, you almost ran around the corner, crashing into someone.

“Watch it, Y/L/N!”

Great.

“Watch it yourself, Malfoy!”, you snapped.

Draco Malfoy stood in front of you, one hand in the pocket of his pants, the other gripping your arm to prevent you from falling down. It must have been out of instinct because as soon as he realized he was touching you, he let go as if you were a hot plate.

“Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed,” he stated dryly.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, lowering the tone of your voice a little. “And let me through.”

He did neither. “Did McLaggen find you after all?!”

“None of your business, Malfoy!” With that, you pushed him aside and continued walking down the corridor. You were too mad for Malfoys bullshit.

“Y/L/N!” Apparently he was particular talkative this morning.

You ignored him.

“I couldn’t care less for your obvious boy troubles –”

Who did he think he was?!

“– however, I still have something that belongs to you.”

This made you stop dead in your tracks and turn around. “What?”, you asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

He smirked. “Your shoe.”

Oh. Oops.

Annoyed, you shrugged. “So give it back to me.”

“It’s in the Slytherin common room.”

“I’d rather die than go down there.”

“I’d change the attitude if I were you. After all, you want something from me,” his voice grew colder.

You were unimpressed by that. “Make me,” you shot back.

There it was again – that look on his face. The same look he had yesterday as he gazed over your body in the small room. It made you shiver – and for a second you weren’t sure if it was the good or the bad kind of shiver.

Then he smirked again: “Quidditch field. Tonight after dinner.” And while he already started walking backwards he added: “I’d rather die than be caught talking to a Gryffindor.”

Goddamn Slytherins.

***

It was unusually cold for a September night. You shivered and zipped up your jacket, regretting that you didn’t bring a scarf. No student or teacher seemed to be outside at this time, only the occasional crow flying above your head and the rustling of leaves accompanied you on your way to the Quidditch field.

The reason why Malfoy chose the Quidditch field of all places to give you back your shoe was beyond your knowledge. Yet you didn’t complain. In about half an hour, your friends would join you. Before the war, this was one of your favourite spots to just hang out and talk.

When you arrived on the field, it took you a while to spot Malfoy. He sat way up on the bleachers. You groaned and made your way up the stairs. Malfoy didn’t notice that you came as he was busy writing something in a small green notebook. Huh. Interesting.

He flinched when you sat down beside him and quickly closed the book.

“What are you writing?”, you asked curiously.

Malfoy pretended not to hear your question and instead reached inside his bag. “Here,” he pulled out your shoe, handing it to you.

“Thanks,” you put in the small bag you brought. “So what are you writing?”

He looked at you with an annoyed expression. “You have what you want so you can go.”

“You’re no fun, Malfoy.”

“Says the Gryffindor.”

“Excuse me?”, you raised an eyebrow. “We’re more fun than all the Slytherins combined.”

“Right,” he scoffed.

Still, you didn’t move or leave so with a sigh, he added: “Do you have no friends to bother?”

You grinned. “I do. In fact, they’ll be here in –”, you took a look at your watch, “– twenty minutes.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Perfect.”

“Why did you tell me to meet you here?”

“I was gonna be here anyways,” he shrugged. “Easier to make you come to me.”

You ignored his sly remark. “You were going to be here anyways? Alone?”

Another shrug.

Leaning back, you watched Malfoy from the side. He had dark circles under his eyes and kept his gaze focused on the field, his fingers playing with the sides of the notebook. Something (beside you sitting next to him) bothered him.

“So what was up with you this morning?”, he broke the silence.

You raised an eyebrow. “As if you care.”

“No,” he admitted. “But you’re obviously not leaving until your friends come and that question might make you stop staring at me.”

You chuckled softly. Then you realized that he was actually waiting for an answer. “Nothing important.”

“I figured.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Probably,” Malfoy stated without any emotion in his voice.

You were silent for a few seconds. Part of you wanted to get up and leave. After all, Malfoy was probably the last one you could trust. He didn’t care and it was literally none of his business. You didn’t even like each other. Keeping it simple and vague was probably the best approach: “Dumb stuff, really. Like you said – boy troubles.”

Malfoy shifted without noticing it, turning his body more towards you, leaning in a little. “Well, now I’m curious. Who managed to make Y/L/N this mad and can he teach me?”

“I don’t know if you’re keen on Ron being your teacher,” the sentence just slipped out. You regretted it right away.

Malfoys eyes widened. “No fucking way.” Then he began to smirk – that evil, ‘I’m-better-than-you’-smirk he had perfected over the years.

Your face felt like it was on fire and you were glad it was getting dark already. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the blush. “Oh, be quiet!”

“Weasley?”, he scoffed, not believing it. He stared at you with quite the interest now. There seemed to be a lot more to you than he would have guessed. “How the fuck did that happen? Isn’t he dating the … isn’t he dating Granger?”

You knew what he wanted to call her but were surprised that he stopped himself. That never happened before.

“Yes, he is,” you mumbled and gave him a suggestive look.

This caused Malfoy to laugh. It was a dry, short laugh. He leaned back a little. “You’re kidding, right? Fucking hell, Weasel managed to not only screw you but do so while dating Granger?”

“I like how eloquently you phrased that,” you said sarcastically.

He ignored you. “How did that happen?”

“Okay, first of all”, you began, “… they weren’t dating when it happened. I’m not a homewrecker, that’s probably more of a Slytherin thing.”

“Does she know?”

“Know what?”

“Does Granger know you two f–”

“Geez, Malfoy, watch your language,” you interrupted him quickly, before you added: “And no.”

“So cheating isn’t a Gryffindor thing but lying is?”, Malfoy concluded, smirking again. “Good to know.”

“Oh, shut up,” you raised your chin. You were right about this in the beginning – you shouldn’t have told him anything. How were you supposed to get this right? Even though there was no reason for you to explain yourself to him, you still felt the need to: “They were going through a crisis and broke up and well … I spent a few weeks with their family and I always considered Ron a good friend but … but something happened. And then he ended things with me and got back together with Granger. Well, he got back together with her first and announced it in front of everyone, including me.”

“That’s how he told you that you two were over?”

You nodded. “Yup.”

“Phew,” Malfoy let out a whistle. “Wow. I must admit, I’m impressed.”

“Sure you are.”

Suddenly Malfoys facial expression changed from amusement to confusion. “So what’s the big deal now? You two screwed a few times and now he’s playing house with Granger again.”

You sent him another suggestive glance which caused him to let out another laugh.

“Please don’t tell me you got feelings for the Weasel,” he said in complete disbelief. Then his eyes suddenly began to wander further down and you realized he was looking at your … body. Rude. Before you got the chance to put him in his place, he simply said: “You can do a lot better, y’know.”

Oh. This was unexpected. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks again and felt actually a little flattered by his words. Yet, they confused you. Why would he give a Gryffindor a compliment?! Was there a hidden insult in it? Maybe a slight undertone you didn’t notice?

“It goes without saying that this conversation stays between us,” you cleared your throat. “No one knows about this whole mess except Ginny. And you.”

Malfoy nodded. “You put an awful lot of trust in me.”

“Don’t disappoint me then.”

The two of you were quiet for a few moments. It was almost completely dark by now and a nervous glance to your watch made you aware that Ginny and the rest of her friends might appear any second now. The silence grew uncomfortable after a while.

“What’s up with that whole engagement thing, you mentioned yesterday?”, you wanted to know, remembering that weird comment of him. “And don’t act all mysterious again. I told you my mess now you have to share yours.”

Malfoy snorted. “Ask away.”

This was easier than expected. “Are you dating the little Greengrass?” Totally understandable if he was – Astoria was the perfect mixture of smart and drop dead gorgeous. A lot of guys were into her.

“No.”

“She called you ‘honey’.”

“Yes.”

You frowned. “I’m confused.”

“Do I really have to explain to you how pureblood marriages work?”, Malfoy said with a mocking undertone.

“Of course not. I just thought we left that behind us when the war ended”, you remarked.

He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “As if hundreds of years of tradition can be forgotten with one war.”

“So you’re forced to marry her?”, you tried to understand the situation better.

“No, it’s an arranged marriage which is not even official yet,” Malfoy shifted slightly. “Mother would like it because the Greengrass family is still respected and …”

“… rich.”

He glanced at you quickly. “We lost a lot.”

“I bet,” you scoffed.

Abruptly, Malfoy got up and grabbed his bag. “I should leave.”

Out of instinct, you extended your hand to reach for him but stopped just inches in front of his arm. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that”, you apologized. Feelings of guilt and pity appeared inside of you as you didn’t expect him to be so openly hurt by what you said. “I heard … well, everyone heard about the trials and your parents and all that. Sorry.”

Malfoy hesitated but then sat down again. His whole demeanour had changed in just seconds. He had almost been … approachable but now the look in his eyes was as cold as ice again.

You cleared your throat. “Do you want to marry her?”

He didn’t answer right away. You wondered what went through his head in this moment.

“I don’t ask myself that.”

The answer didn’t surprise you. “Why not?”, you tried to dig deeper.

Again, a few seconds passed before he mumbled: “No, I don’t want to marry her. I hardly know her.”

“Hmm,” you nodded. “Does she want to marry you?”

“I don’t know”, he gave a half shrug. “She had a thing with Zabini over the summer so I guess … I’m probably not her first choice.”

The answer to all of his problems seemed so easy, you thought. Yet it would be met with much apprehension. Traditional pureblood families like his were difficult when it came to this stuff.

Knowing what his reaction would be, you still had to say it: “So don’t get engaged.” Before he could reply, you raised your hand. “Yeah, I know, traditions and all that bullshit. Why don’t you just start breaking traditions?”

Malfoy shook his head. “My family works a little different than yours.

“Not that different to be honest”, you whispered under your breath.

He heard you and you were met with a very confused look. When you didn’t elaborate, he continued talking: “Anyways, I can’t. I could try to postpone but I’d need a very convincing reason.”

“Like?”

“Another girl from a good family.”

“And?”

“And what?”

A grin appeared on your face. “There are at least ten girls I can name right away who’d love to get a shot with you.”

Seriously, even most of the Gryffindor girls your age had been crushing on Malfoy at least once. He was very attractive and clever and that whole ‘bad boy’-act made quite a few girls weak in their knees. You had noticed this too but being so close friends with Ginny and Harry those thoughts never found room to grow inside of you. In your mind, Malfoy had always been an arrogant jerk. Still is, you corrected yourself quietly.

“Have you spoken with them since I became a –”

… a Death Eater, you finished the sentence in your head. Looking at the young man in front of you, wearing his school scarf while sitting in a sports stadium, the whole concept of him being a dangerous criminal just seemed absurd to you.

“Besides it’s a dumb idea”, he continued. “It would be a fake relationship and no one in their right mind would agree to that.” He let out a dry laugh. “Only a Gryffindor can think of something like that.”

In that moment, your eyes met. Never before did you notice the unusual colors in them like you did now. The piercing grey reminded you of storm clouds on an autumns day. Yeah, a fake relationship. Who in their right mind would … Unless …

The sudden thought that appeared in your mind made you flinch. He seemed to be thinking the same when he quickly broke the eye contact, straightening up and staring over at the field.

You got up in a rush, swinging your back over your shoulder. To your big relief, Ginny and your friends had just entered the Quidditch field. Their laughter echoed through the whole area.

„I should go. There’s Ginny.”

He nodded. “Right.”

“Thanks for the shoe.” Could this situation be any more awkward?! You doubted it. Hastily you turned around and almost stumbled over your own feet when you made our way back to the stairs. Something else came suddenly to your mind.

“Oh, and Malfoy?”, you stopped. He didn’t turn to look at you but you knew he heard you by the way he slightly moved his head. “I know a lot of fucked up stuff happened and pureblood families are the worst but … but don’t spend the rest of the year sitting here alone. I bet that there are still quite a few of your Slytherin friends that want to spend time with you.”

There was nothing you expected him to say in response to that so it surprised you when he suddenly said your name. “Y/L/N?”

“Yes?”

“Get over Weasley. It’s beneath you.”

You were glad he didn’t see the big grin on your face.

 ***

Ginny was surprised to see you coming down the stairs and running across the field. She wondered what you did up there and frowned when he saw a guy sitting there with the all too familiar white-blond hair.

“Is that Malfoy up there? Were you talking to him?”, she wanted to know when you finally reached the group.

“Oh, um,” you stuttered. “We ran into each other.

Ginny squinted her eyes. “Right”, she doubted. “How did you –”

Bang! You let out a short scream at the sudden noise.

“Sorry!” Someone shouted and a very distressed looking Seamus Finnigan appeared behind dark smoke.

“What the hell did you do?” Ginny squeaked and with that she forgot all about Malfoy.

You looked back up to where he was sitting just a minute ago. He was gone now. A weird feeling was left inside of you after the rather unusual conversation you had with the Slytherin. You shook your head, trying to get rid of it and turned your full attention back to your friends.

***

I hope you like it! I’d love to hear what you thought about it! <3

CHAPTER 4

“Choose Me Instead”-Masterlist HP-Masterlist Tag List: @writerdee1701​, @youareinllve​, @sjmahoney​, @detroitobsessed​, @takura-rin​, @jadam268​, @wynterwind​, @mina672 , @renaissance-confiance​, @harpoon999​, @doitforthevine67​, @rinasrights​, @flowerpowerpixie​, @gold-flowing​, @starkssnarks​, @bookcornerkins​, @harpersmariano​, @markedsweetly​, @iraniq​, @pointlesscoconut​, @hvrcruxes​, @pillowjj​, @idkatee​, @jungjxxhyun, @magicwithaknife​, @graystherapy​

Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list! <3

[saintanism-archive]

daaaamn aj, back at it again with the long as fuc headcanons !! anyway hi everyone it’s me this is saint he’s a pretentious fuck & my ( really long, sorry, feel free 2 skip them, there’s a tl;dr summary in my bulletpoints so u can just scroll past it ) headcanons and intro stuff is under the cut !

first headcanon. while most houghton parents are doctors, lawyers, and business executives, saint’s always been something of a horse of a different color. his family certainly isn’t unwealthy—he does, after all, live in one of those multi-million-dollar brownstones in beacon hill auctioned by freaking sotheby’s—but they’re certainly neo riche, which can be sort of hit or miss, depending on who you’re asking. saint is not unlike his parents in that they surround themselves with a kind of off-kilter opulence ( sure, that kind of cash value would have bought them a newly constructed sleek mansion in the suburbs, but why go for something new and modern when you could live in a brownstone with over three hundred years of history that, supposedly, one of the founding fathers lived in? besides, you just can’t beat that location—never mind that the brownstone’s been totally gutted and replaced with sleek, modern interior anyway, and definitely not anything that ben franklin or whoever would have touched ) while pretending to eschew materialism and vanity. why else would they live in boston instead of new york or la, right? anyway. saint is the only son of the one and only cordelia st. mercy ( pronounced, unlike saint’s name, the french way—san merci, which sounds hilariously close to ‘sans merci,’ meaning ‘without mercy,’ a joke that is not lost on saint ), a renowned fashion photographer and portrait artist ( think in the vein of annie liebovitz  and arthur elgort ) with a marked celebrity and high art clientele, and also the one and only son of the less elegantly named garrett wallace ( a pen name; his real name is garrett wallerstedt, but his editor and agent agreed that last names that are difficult to pronounce are harder to sell ), whose grisly but artful novels earned him a national book award in 1997, a film deal in 2001 ( the film was a critical and box office success but, in garrett’s opinion, too reductive of his book; ‘pure snuff’ ), and a professorship in the creative writing program at MIT. yes, that MIT, which yes, does have a creative writing program, and yes, it’s a very good one. SO—that’s the pedigree saint mercy-wallace was born into, and it probably explains a whole lot about him. his parents are not and were never married, so he can’t quite say he’s a child of divorce. instead, he spends the school year with his father while his mother travels all over the world, doing her work, though she comes home for holidays and saint’s birthday, and the summers he spends with his mother, dipping his feet into the world of the new york art scene. it was an unusual arrangement, but not a bad one; it was a long time before saint even understood that his family situation was out of the ordinary, but, like, at least he knew both his parents loved him or whatever. they are both pretty emotionally distant and prone to getting caught up in their own work—his father is always focused on teaching or poring over his latest book or invited to give a talk somewhere, for example—but it’s not a bad situation. they’re just more like friends than parents. as a result, saint grew up with a lot of freedom ( more than most of his houghton peers, whose helicopter parents put the weight of the world on their shoulders ) and little discipline, often left to his own devices and trusted with the ability to take care of himself.

second headcanon: ah, yes. the houghton food chain. it’s easy to say saint sits at the dead bottom. like, he’s not even the bugs that get eaten by the birds or whatever. he’s the plant that gets eaten by the bugs. or the soil nutrients that get consumed by the plants—something like that. but the easy answer isn’t necessarily the correct one, and you see, once upon a time, saint sat somewhere near the top. he was never number one, of course, but he was up there, in that little crew of self-proclaimed high school princes and princesses ( quite literally, what with calling themselves windsors and all ). and he fit quite well, all things considered. what, with his pseudo-celebrity family background and his instagram roll full of selfies with models and musicians and actors and that specifically youthful brand of devil-may-care attitude that bordered at times on cruelty—he was a perfect fit for the windsors, his five-story, oft-empty brownstone the perfect venue for their parties and his unconscious need to belong to some kind of family the perfect host for going along with anything that dante and his ilk said. that’s not to make it sound like he was manipulated into it or anything of the sort—he wasn’t. he and dante were good friends—they were all good friends—and like anyone would, saint relished in the perks that came with sitting at the king’s left hand instead of dancing for his entertainment. he was ( and still is ) always the kind of person who gave off an air of not really caring about anything at all, but that’s especially easy when you want for nothing. his life was impossibly easy. too easy, perhaps—exactly what went down that infamous day when saint fell from his high school pedestal remains a mystery. all anyone really knows is this: it was your typical rager at chateau mercy-wallace. the party was going as saint’s parties typically did, so, pretty well, until saint cut the music and ( red-rimmed and wild-eyed, or stinking of about a hundred cigarettes, or with a bloody nose from too many lines of coke, depending on who’s telling the story—it’s morphed a bit over time ) threw everyone out of his house with no explanation. just a party’s over, fuckwads, get outta my house, and some monologue about the bullshit superficiality of high school, of all of them, about how they were all talking in circles and repeating the same lines over and over, but not even their own lines, lines they’d inherited from generations and generations past. it’s equally up for debate whether saint left the windsors or was kicked out, but there’s something of a general consensus that it was in the muddy lines of both. that went down somewhere towards the middle of the end of his junior year. since then? total social pariah. he left behind the lacrosse and soccer teams, opting instead for chain-smoking under the bleachers and cutting class. he’s a mystery, that saint mercy-wallace.

third headcanon: they were friends until they weren’t. they met in middle school and hit it off pretty easily, these two sons of daedalus who feared not the dangers of flying too close to the sun. they were handsome and charming and confident and gifted and the world opened for them—it made it easy to get along. eleven-year-olds didn’t need much by way of substance to start friendships. if you were to ask saint, looking back on it, after that they remained friends out of habit—because they were in the same place at the same time, because they had similar privilege, because they both felt they could do anything and get away with it, because they had similar luxurious sensibilities. it was ( if you ask saint ) what really bonded all of the windsors together more than any other kind of commonality. but, you know. when you wake up—as saint describes it, a waking up—and you look around and you see all this shit you’ve been brainwashed into thinking matters about anything, and you call out the only flimsy common ground you’ve got. well. you’re not going to be friends anymore, are you? after that, saint didn’t harbor any particular resentment towards dante, but he made no attempts to be friendly, often making snide remarks about the absurdity that was the whole premise of the “windsors” and how maybe they all needed to get outside and look at something other than their phones once in a while. he was still fairly shocked and upset by his death—nobody wants anyone to die, old friend slash new enemy or otherwise—but not enough to make a big thing out of it. saint’s had a pretty hard time feeling much of anything these days.

OK THE TL;DR VERSION:

son of a big hotshot fashion/art/celeb photographer ( cordelia aka cordy st. mercy ) and an acclaimed writer, essayist, novelist, thinker, etc ( garrett wallace, who teaches creative writing at MIT )

lives in a big ol brownstone in boston proper, often left to his own devices

his parents are not married to each other so he usually spends the school year w dad and the summer w mom - pls advise if u want some kind of step sibling or “our parents are dating this is terrible!” connection

used to be a windsor ! he was once (in)famously a member of the elite Inner Circle(TM) until he even more infamously had a giant burnout , threw everyone out of his house during a Classic Saint Rager ( he used to be known for throwing parties ), stopped hanging out w the windsors and has been kinda.....weird ever since

i mean don’t get me wrong he was always a pretentious fuck but he used to be better at keeping it inside and like having fun and talking about silly things now he hates talking about basic high school bullshit

his instagram is full of selfies w models and artists and musicians and actors and he only listens to bands you’ve probably never heard of who are “on the up and up”

and also house music and gregorian chants and weird af shit he’s into, like, industrial noise. anyway..........

prides himself on being very fashion forward and forward thinking in general

BIG MESS

literally never says things that aren’t . ridiculous

examples:

“can’t today my existential dread is acting up”

“i only eat squid ink pasta it’s the most melancholy of pasta”

“i can barely navigate the hellish vortex between breakfast and dinner, let alone the labyrinth of the soccer field” ( said when he quit the soccer & lacrosse teams, which he used to play )

does not give a single fuck about anything ever

chainsmokes like u wouldn’t believe catch him on the bleachers during football practice wearing all black and smoking three cigarettes at once it’s disgusting ( lowkey he thinks it looks cool lol what a loser )

reads pretentious af shit like jd salinger and allen ginsburg and the other beats and thinks he’s so edgy. kill him

skips class.....all the time . . . . but has really good grades ? wild

hates everyone and everything that isn’t Elegant

acts like he’s so above all this high school hierarchy nonsense & too cool for it & blah blah but uh

he’s probably just depressed

maybe still gets invited to parties if people forget for a second that he’s a giant fucking weirdo now? but maybe not

i would Love a ferris bueller to his cameron frye but we’ll see

anyway he’s super hard to plot with but you should plot with me anyway

this has been an intro by aj thanks for coming to my ted talk

[jupiterreed]

half a mile south of misery

It's been three years since I felt like a honey crust kid burning with dreams of running off to countries where they can't figure out how to pronounce my name in a culturally appropriate way. Two since the appeal of solitude turned to gunpowder and the boy I had a crush on in grade school exchanged promise rings with his tall, blonde and fawn-like, Victoria Secret stereotype of a girlfriend. We exchanged lilies in the soccer field once and I think that's the closest I've ever gotten to romance. There's something ironic about that, about how 12 year olds in spongebob boxers with trix yoghurt on their breaths develop bible beliefs of world domination. We lit dumpsters on fire, we cut class after third period, smoked our daddy’s cigars under the bleachers like a bunch of Breakfast Club rejects, watching the sun render the trees a certain baby gold and precious. There is light in the gaps where your molars are coming in. Rainstorm light, runny-nosed, slippery panic-right-after-the-disco light. And someone mutters that “college is where it's really at," and I start to believe them after I come home from school everyday miserable and hurting, knees singed on concrete, gum stuck in my hair, a chemistry book sprawled open on the dining room table, a flip phone held in front of it. Texting a not-so best friend about how Todd likes Amy but Amy’s totally into Joshua and never minding our own business. Still. It was more than classroom gossip. We had plans for the future. We were going to be rockstars and historians. We were going to rule the world or, something like that.

I thought this year would be different. I thought I'd learn to speak the tongue of grown-ups and everyday would be filled with tickets for obscure concerts and lemon scented laundry detergent, but some nights my bed still feels like a sink hole and I drown within it, hoping for stars except it’s bleeding with darkness, and feels like licking the salt clean from the wound that festers, panics skin. I wanna grow a new stomach, digest these years of primitive living. But there's a jungle gym within my veins and we’re running out of thrift shops that sell emotional maturity. Back then I was still more girl than injury and hope presented itself in a dose of antidepressants. College was meant to be sleeping with blueberry stained boys in empty dorm rooms that smell faintly of weed, netflix & chill on your mother's cheapest mattress, taking a night ferry to the beach where the whale washed ashore last summer.

If I rewind a little, I can still remember the worst year of my life. 

The year of bad choices and moving into my step sister’s bedroom and standing awkwardly at house parties I didn’t belong to with kids I didn’t know. I remember hating you. With your perfect, perfect skin and silver tongue and how your lipstick never got on your teeth and always seemed a brighter red than mine. I hated your, everything. The way you made me feel. Inferior and boneless. All your Russian doll faces. Who were you really? I find it kinda ironic that nobody seems to know. How we almost totaled your mom’s car on the night we met and your hushed promise that you’d teach me to be beautiful. Show me the art of drugstore makeup and e-cigarettes. You were convinced that I had to grow up and I was convinced you knew what you were talking about. That you never had any cruel intentions. Baby angel high on motel neons. You knew how to talk to boys and you always smelled like perfume. And I guess I wanted to be like that. Like you. Before the devil on your shoulder unravelled. Before the warning signs. The day you screamed so loud, I think the entire neighborhood thought you were being murdered and I. Almost ended up with a shard of glass wedged in my ankle. Which was why I didn’t tell you about the dirty dream I had about your boyfriend and how I never wanted to see you. Not again. I wanted my dad to go back to my mother, I used to be an only child and what I needed was a little brother - not every pretty high school cliche rolled into one ignitable package. I think despite my mixed feelings I wanted you to like me. But I was just so boring in comparison. So plain and always waning. I could never match up. Not to your oh-so-cool friends who hosted parties in their parents’ basements and smoked hash with you at 2 AM and told you everything you wanted to hear. Or those starry eyed girls who lend you their high heels because you asked so very nicely and maybe you’ll befriend them for real then. It was an out-of-body experience when I got to go back home. Before everything changed again. 

I spent nights falling asleep to the sound of our parents barking swears at each other and mom, Dad loves you but he’s just not in the position right now. And pretending thunder was softer. I went to a new school and met the girl I would call my best friend for a year and a half before she decided I wasn’t worth it anymore. She fell for a boy who would only use her and forgot my name. I was battling my own demons, I was pulling needles from under my skin and turning into fog at night. 

The summer I hungered for knives and I hungered for poetry and swallowed every pill labelled ‘pain relief’ and somehow. They made me feel bad for that, too. How they laughed at my metrical use of ‘binary stars’ as a metaphor for closeness. How normal people don’t talk like that and poetry is for shabby old geezers anyway, ones in tweed suits who’ve got nothing better to do with their lives. Stop your stonewalling and hey, you’re not a holocaust survivor, you’re just depressed about college and that happens to everybody, right? That’s funny. That’s really hilarious. I guess you’re class clown. I guess you just ‘get’ everybody. I wish I could be like everybody. Does your so-called depression keep you from taking a shower or showing up to class or running your mouth every goddamn day? I don’t want pity I just want to be left alone.

It was easier then. Under the sugary guise of high school blues. I didn’t know how the story would end but I got tired of reading so I clapped the book shut halfway. I just wanted somebody to notice, but most people can’t comprehend the dialect of closed mouths. I hate feeling like a disappointment, sacrificing sleep. Every night I got disembodied and chugged expired orange juice. We used to be so much fun. We would get drunk in your back garden and sing Pink Floyd reprises and tell each other all of our big city dreams. Stirring tiny packets of heaven into our coffees. I was going to do something that would touch the heart of the world. I was going to make the world’s eyes roll back into its head, make it see rings of cartoon stars and planets. Now all I know is the withering. Living on microwavable food and unwashed sheets and cough medicine. I discovered a new continent and fell victim to inertia. I’ve barely travelled anywhere and I just want to go see everything but I. Can’t move. “This is your fourth panic attack in a week it’s getting pathetic. Get yourself together and stop blaming the universe for your problems.”

It’s been 2 weeks since I attended class now and I know you know. I guess what I’m trying to say comes as easy as flame to wick, as rain to midmorning.

I’m sorry, dad. You shouldn’t believe in me anymore. And maybe the critics were right about Icarus’ foolish grab for the sun. I’ll keep trying to be better but there are termites feasting at my teeth. My lungs are poisonous shrubs and the forests are all dying again. I want to go back to 2012 before the world ended. I want to be the kind of daughter you can be proud of.

where she lives || j.r (do not repost w/o credit)

[lysyuta]

Warning ⚠️: DO NOT read this part if you haven’t read the parts before this one! This part contains major spoilers (a.k.a the questions you’ve been asking me since I first posted this series 😂)

{Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 2.5} {Part 3} {Part 4} {Part 5}

More warnings ⚠️: This part contains: A LOT of angst and A LOT of curse words, so stay tuned. Also, hold onto your hearts when reading this, because they might break :)

A/n: Don’t hate me too much, I’m sorry 😭

•••

“Y/n, they’re right. You need to call the police.” Your friend Namjoon says as you two walk down the hallway, along with two other friends.

“I told you,” you started, sighing. “I can’t. They won’t be able to do anything.”

“Well, you can’t live like this. It’s creepy.” Your other friend, Jungkook, says.

What were you supposed to do? What could you do? Call the police? That wouldn’t work.

“Yoongi-hyung! Tell y/n that she needs to call the police!” Jungkook says to your other friend.

Yoongi looked at you as the four of you walked. “You should call the police, y/n.”

“But they won’t be able to track anything.” You explain. “But you should at least see what they can do.” He says.

You sighed, not knowing what you were gonna do. Everyone is telling you to call the police, but you can’t! They won’t do anything. They won’t find anything. So how is the police supposed to help you?

The four of you all split up. The boys’ lockers were near each other, so they walked in a different direction than you. “See you in class.” They all said before you walked your different ways.

As you approached your locker, Jimin was standing by his. His back was facing you, and it looked like he was looking down at something he was holding.

You slowly walked up to him. Your plan was to scare him. “Jimin!” You said, hitting his shoulder lightly.

When you did that, Jimin jumped, dropping everything in his hand. “Oh my gosh.” Jimin says as something that like looked like pictures dropped down.

“Jimin, I’m so sorry.” You apologized. “Let me help you.” You say as you both bent down to pick up the pictures on the ground.

“No, it’s fine.” Jimin says. “You don’t have to help me.” He picks up some of the pictures.

You picked up some of them anyways, despite Jimin’s pleas for you to not, feeling bad for knocking them out of his hand in the first place. “Y/n, I can pick them up myself. Don’t help me!”

You grabbed a bunch of pictures off the floor. Then something caught your eye. The first picture you saw was—

a picture of you.

Your eyes widened. The picture was of you standing in your bedroom, doing something on your phone. It was taken from outside of your window.

You looked at the rest of the pictures. They were all of you. All of them.

Some were taken from outside your window, like the last one. Some were taken at school. Some were taken and random places you had gone.

You stood up and so did Jimin. He saw that you were looking at the pictures, and his eyes widened. “Y/n,” he started.

You shook your head, not wanting to say anything. “Y/n, this isn’t what it looks like. Please let me explain.”

Before he could get another sentence out, you shoved the pictures into his chest, waking away. “Y/n!” He called.

Jimin was your stalker? How could he? He’s one of your best friends! How could he do this to you?

He acted as if he was trying to help you. He told you to call the police and all, but he’s one of the people behind this. You couldn’t believe it.

Now that you know Jimin was one of your stalkers, there were two more that were still unknown to you.

Who could it be? Another one of your friends? Most likely.

How are you supposed to know which boys you can trust and which boys you can’t trust?

“Hey. You look tense.” One of your friends says as you sit down beside him in class.

“Well, maybe I am tense, Taehyung.” You say, rolling your eyes. “Woah. What’s your problem, y/n?” He asks.

“Mind your business.” You tell him, taking your notebook out of your book bag and starting to write what the teacher had on the board.

“Y/n,” you heard someone call you about 5 minutes later. You turned to your other side (the side that Taehyung wasn’t sitting on) and saw Jungkook. “What, Jungkook?” You ask, looking back at your notebook.

“Why are you so upset?” He asks.

“You should know, shouldn’t you? You’re good friends with Jimin. I’m sure you’re a part of this too.” You say.

“A part of what?” He asks you.

“Like you don’t know.” You rolled your eyes, looking at Jungkook. “I don’t know. What are you talking about, y/n?” He responds.

“Just forget it, Jungkook.” You say, turning to your notebook.

After school ended, you went looking for Jimin. You had to talk to him about this. You just couldn’t believe that it was him. You also had to find out who the other two people were.

Luckily, you found Jimin. He was outside, sitting on the bleachers, doing some work.

You walked to him. He saw your shadow and looked up at you. “Y/n!” He says, closing his book as soon as your eyes met.

“Y/n, have you been avoiding me all day?” He asked, putting the book in his bag. “Can you blame me?” You ask, sitting beside him, but not too close.

“Look, y/n,” he starts, looking at you. “I know you think I’m weird. I didn't—” before he could finish, you spoke over him.

“Of course I think you’re weird. You’re my friend, Jimin. But now I find out that you’re stalking me, and taking pictures of me. What else am I supposed to think?”

“I didn’t take those pictures, y/n.”

“Then who took it? Boogeyman?” You ask, sarcastically. “And if you didn’t take them, how did you get them? And why were you looking through them?”

“I found them in my locker. Someone put it in there.”

“Do you know who it is?”

Jimin stayed quiet, not answering your question. He looked down at his feet, not saying a thing.

“So you do know who it is?” You ask.

“Y/n…” he sighs, not answering your question.  

“Is it someone that was in that stupid group chat? You were in it too, weren’t you, Jimin?” You asked. Before he could speak, you kept talking. “Ever since you guys put me in that chat, it’s all I can think about. Your numbers were unknown, but all I could think about was the color of the numbers. Purple, blue and tan. There were three people, and I’m sure you’re one of them, Jimin. Which one were you?”

Jimin looked up at you, taking a deep breath. “The blue one.” He sighs.

“Jesus Christ, Jimin!” You say, pushing his chest. “Why would you do this? You texted me creepy things. You came to my house and said even more creepy things. Why?” You ask.

“Y/n, I’m sorry.” He apologizes.

“Sorry isn’t going to fix anything! You’re my friend, Jimin. How could you do this to me? I trusted you.” You say.

“Y/n,” he starts. “No. Before you say anything else. Tell me: who were the other people in the group? There were three of you. You’re blue, so who’s purple and tan?” You asked.

“Y/n, I can’t tell you.”

“Bullshit! Tell me, Jimin!” You said, raising your voice.

“Please calm down, y/n.”

“Calm down? How can I calm down? I just found out that one of my best friends is my stalker. Who are the others, Jimin? Who are they?”

“I promised them that I wouldn’t tell you. We all promised each other that we would not tell.” He explains.

“Why did you do it? Why did you stalk me?”

“It wasn’t anything personal, y/n. It wasn’t to scare you. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.” He answers.

“Then how the fuck was it supposed to go?”

“I’m sorry.” He says, not answering your question.

“Fuck your sorry, Jimin. And fuck you. How could you do this to me? I fucking liked you Jimin. You’re my best friend. I loved you. I really did. But not anymore. Not after this.” You say.

Jimin looked at you, and unreadable expression on his face.

“Tell me who the others are.” You said.

“I can’t.”

“Jimin! Fucking tell me! If you don’t, I swear to god, I’m calling the police.” You threaten.

“Y/n, no.” Jimin says, eyes widening. “Don’t.”

“I thought you were my friend.” You say, feeling tears well up at your eyes. “I am your friend, y/n. I care about you. I really do.” He tries to explain.

“Save it. I don’t want to fucking hear it anymore. I just want to know who the other two are. Tell me who they are. I want to talk to them.”

“You want to talk to us? Then talk.” You hear a voice say. You turned your head, looking at the source of the voice.

Then you saw them, standing at the bottom of the bleachers, looking up at you. One with blond hair, and one with brown.

“I was the purple one. Y/n, I’m so fucking sorry.” The brown haired boy says. You felt the tears stream down your eyes, looking at the two. boys who were also a part of this. You stood up, just as they started walking closer to you and Jimin.

“Save your sorry. I don’t fucking want it.” You say. “You two. You fucking idiots. Why the fuck would you do this to me?”

“Y/n, we—” Your eyes darted to the blond haired boy. “I trusted you. All of you. You call yourselves my best friends. Fuck! What have I ever done to deserve this? All I’ve ever given you guys is love. I fucking cared for you.” You cut him off from talking.

“We didn’t mean to hurt you, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes at that. “But you did. You hurt me a lot, Taehyung.” You say.

“It wasn’t to hurt you. It was just for fun at first. It started as a prank.” The blond boy says. “A prank? A fucking prank? I would expect Jimin and Taehyung to pull a prank on me. Not you, Min Yoongi.” You said.

“It was a prank at first. We were going to tell you that it was us. We were. But after a while, we thought you would call the police on us if we revealed ourselves, so we stayed hidden.” Yoongi explains.

“That doesn’t explain the pictures that one of you little assholes took of me.” You point out. “Who took them?”

“Me.” Taehyung says. “I did it. It was a part of the prank. I took pictures, and Jimin was supposed to put them in your locker. We were supposed to scare you.” He explains.

“Do you guys realize how fucked up this is?” You ask them.

“We do. We really do.” Jimin says.

“I can’t forgive you for this.” You say, shaking your head.

“Y/n, we’re sorry. It was a prank that got out of hand.” Taehyung says.

“I was fucking scared for my life. Did you know that? I couldn’t sleep most nights because I was afraid that some fucking stalker would come after me! And the nights I could sleep, I cried myself to sleep. I was so fucking scared. You assholes.” You explained to them.

“We know. We’re sorry, y/n.” Yoongi apologizes.

“We didn’t mean for it to get out of hand. We really didn’t y/n. It was just a joke.” Jimin says.

“Joke my ass. I came to you guys for help! You all told me to call the police because you knew they couldn’t do anything, right? You knew they couldn’t find you. You gave me shit advice.” You say. “I can’t fucking believe this shit.”

“Y/n,” Taehyung started. “Do the other guys know about this too?” You asked, not letting him talk. “Namjoon, Hoseok, Jin and Jungkook. Do they know about this?”

“Hoseok knows. We asked him to help us prank you. It was supposed to be the four of us, but he didn’t want to do it.” Yoongi explains. “We told him not to tell you.”

“Unbelievable.” You said, shaking your head.

“If you call the police, we’d understand. This was a shitty thing to do. We know that.” Taehyung says.

“No. I won’t call the fucking police on you, believe it or not. I would feel guilty if I did that. I don’t know why, but I would. You guys were my friends once, but not anymore.” You say to them. “I don’t want you three to ever talk to me again. Don’t even fucking look at me anymore. I’m so done with you assholes.”

You grabbed your bag from off of the bleachers and started to walk down.

“Y/n, we’re sorry.” Yoongi says.

“We’re so sorry.” Jimin says.

“Please don’t do this to us. You’re our best friend.” Taehyung says.

“I was your best friend. Was. I’m not anymore. Not after you guys pulled this sick fucking ‘prank’.” You said. And with that, you were off.

You’re glad they didn’t follow you, or try to talk to you after you left. You couldn’t handle talking to them anymore. Tears were already streaming down your face.

How could they do that to you? A fucking prank? A prank ins’t supposed to result in you being scared for your life because you think someone is actually coming after you.

How could you ever forgive them?

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