#sorry the lighting here was so offensive. to me personally. i hope u still like them. i tried :( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

juniorgman187 · 5 years ago

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i ♡ u (Spencer Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reader and Spencer are trapped in the office during a storm.

Category: Smut, Fluff Content Warning: cussing, unprotected sex/creampie, thunderstorm Word Count: 4.5k A/N: I don’t really like this imagine tbh so don’t be afraid to share your opinions

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“It was a dark and stormy night just like this one . . .” Reid said with a spooky voice. Thunder clapped in the distance and lightning flashed, adding to the mood of the room. Reid waited for your reaction, but you didn’t have it in you. You pressed your fingers to your temples, hoping that moving them in a circular motion would somehow stimulate your brain and magically generate logical thoughts that weren’t clouded by your weariness.

“Sorry, Reid. I’m listening. Keep going.” You didn’t want to discourage him with your fatigue. You were the only one who would consistently give Reid the time of day, and you never faltered in that. At times, you were the only one who’d let him finish speaking.

“You usually love my campfire scary stories,” You knew without even looking at him that Reid was pouting out of disappointment. “I really think you should go home. I’ll call you if I find something or if I need you.”

“No, no you shouldn’t be working on this alone. I’ll be fine.” You slapped your cheeks gently to wake yourself up and forced yourself to refocus on the case.

Hotch and JJ had to fulfill parenting duties, Prentiss was away doing a custodial interview for a couple days, Rossi and Morgan both went home a few hours ago because they could barely keep their eyes open, and Garcia was most likely knocked out in her bat cave. The team had been working on this case for 24+ hours straight and it was draining, but you weren’t about to leave Reid alone to work on it by himself. It wasn’t a contest or a way to prove that you were somehow a better agent if you stayed up working with him, but you genuinely didn’t feel right delegating all of the responsibility onto him. It happened too often where Reid’s good heart and great work ethic was taken advantage of.

“Have you narrowed down the comfort zone?” You sipped at your lukewarm coffee, wincing at the unpleasant taste but grateful for any burst of energy you could get.

Reid nodded, drawing a large red circle. He was in the middle of explaining when his words started sounding like complete nonsense. “Interstate 55 miles true North latitude triangulate.”

You almost thought you were hallucinating or something to that effect, but Reid saw the genuine fear in your eyes and quit his prank. “No, you’re fine! You’re fine! I was just saying random words to play with you. I thought it’d scare you enough to realize you need to get some sleep.”

“Reid!” You chucked a pen at him that he successfully dodged. This only made him laugh harder. “You’re not gonna get rid of me that easy.” You told him.

“When was the last time you slept?” He asked seriously.

It was a huge red flag that it took you somewhere around a minute to come up with the answer since it had been so long that you couldn’t remember. You waved your hand in the air to rid him of his concerned expression. He had no reason to worry. “Really, I’ll be fine. It’s less dangerous to be running on less than 8 hours of sleep than it is to leave one person to solve an entire case by himself. I’m not going home, Reid. I’m here to stay.”

He noticed your stubbornness and thought of a new approach to neutralize the situation. “What if you and I both call it a night right now and then wake up in a few hours?”

Now, this sounded like a plan you could get behind. Without any resistance, you set an alarm for 5 a.m and flopped onto the couch just beside the round table. Reid joined you, slipping into his rightful spot behind you. You’d had plenty of platonic sleepovers that constituted sharing the same couch/bed with him, so this was nothing new. With your back barely touching Reid’s chest, you shut your eyes. It didn’t take more than ten minutes for both of you to drift off.

BEEEEEEP! BEEEEEEP! BEEEEEEP!

A loud blaring noise filled the room. It made you and Spencer wake up at the same time.

“What is that?” His voice was all raspy from where he just woke up.

The sound was weirdly familiar, but you didn’t know where you recognized it from. That’s when you looked out the nearest window and saw that it was still dark outside.

“I don’t know, but it’s not our alarm.” You pointed out. That’s when Reid eyed the clock on the wall.

3 a.m.

You quickly felt around in the dark, reaching inside your purse for your phone. When you pulled it out, the ear-splitting noise got louder, making you realize it was your phone after all, but you were right. It wasn’t your alarm.

“It’s just a flash flood warning.” You relayed to Reid, squinting at the brightness of your phone. No wonder Reid didn’t know what the sound was - his ancient phone didn’t have the feature. You grumbled, falling back onto the couch.

“There’s no way I’m gonna fall back asleep after that.” He groaned.

You hummed in agreement. “Yeah, I’m wide awake now.” Stupid flash flood warning.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes while Reid stretched and got up from the couch. Checking the notifications he’d gotten on his phone, he said, “Garcia left while we were asleep.”

“And then there were two.”

Everyone was probably catching z’s while you two were catching the killer - or trying to at least.

So, if it was just going to be Reid’s brain and your brain functioning to work on the case, you needed some coffee.

“I’ll be back.” You walked down to the kitchen with your mug in hand and just as you were about to grab the coffee pot, a huge flash of lightning struck outside and suddenly the office went dark. The lights went out and the gentle hum of the generator shut off.

“Spencer!” You screamed out of fear. You heard the pitter-patter of his footsteps rushing to you. That’s when you saw Spencer using his archaic phone’s flashlight to find his way to you. He pulled you into a quick hug asking if you were okay, and you answered you were fine, just spooked. When you came down to pour coffee, you didn’t remember seeing anyone else, but now your stomach turned thinking about how someone might be in here with you - listening to you.

“Take out your gun,” He whispered. You did as he ordered you to, pulling your gun out of the holster. “Turn on the flashlight.” You clicked it on and handed it over to him, remembering that he didn’t have a flashlight on his gun because he had a revolver.

“Stay behind me.” He commanded. You moved back, basically hugging him from behind. You thought you were actually going to pass out from fear if you didn’t hold onto him for dear life. He did a quick pass with the flashlight, revealing no one else was in the bullpen unless they were hiding.

BANG! BANG!

You yelped in fear. “It’s just the thunder, Y/N,” He reasoned, reminding you of the ongoing storm. Oh right, there was a thunderstorm happening, too. Great. “Here take this and go back to the conference room.” He gave you his revolver and kept your gun, ushering you to walk back to the round table.

“What? Why? Where are you going?” Your small voice had never sounded so shaky.

“I’m gonna check the power box and see if I can fix it.”

Your first instinct was to shake your head disapprovingly, but then you remembered that he couldn’t see you in the dark. “No way! You’re not leaving me alone in a dark room. I’m coming with you.”

He didn’t argue against it probably because he was just as scared as you were. Reid did another quick survey of the room, using the beam of your flashlight to double check that there was no one else around.

As you clung to Reid, you made yourself sick just by thinking of all the horrifying possibilities that could happen. For all you knew, a whole group of unsubs was waiting for you at the power box, knowing you and Reid would check there as soon as the electricity went out. Would whatever happened to you two tonight become a campfire scary story that other FBI agents would talk about just like how you and Reid talk about them? The odds were not in your favor. No lights. Storm outside. 3 a.m. Just the two of you, and no offense to Reid, but if this were a horror movie, he was probably the last person you wanted to be with. Top of the list was easily Morgan, because at least if Morgan was scared shitless by the predicament, he wouldn’t show it.

While Reid led the two of you through the pitch black darkness, both of your hands were holding onto his upper arm. You’d taken cover behind him, poking your head past his shoulder just far enough to see what he was seeing but only so far that you could duck quickly if you needed to. Frankly, Spencer didn’t even seem to mind that you were clinging onto him for protection. It kind of made him feel good actually.

When you reached the power box, you released your grip on him, only realizing just how tight you’d been clutching him when you saw imprints left on his shirt from where you’d been holding on.

“Take this.” He handed you the flashlight while he used both of his hands to pry open the box.

You watched as his fingers grazed over the wires and fiddled with the buttons. Would it be weird to admit that his hands were kind of attractive? You’d never realized the largeness of them or how veiny they were, but there was something about them that made them so sexy to you.

He made a disapproving sound after further inspection.

“What’s wrong?” You weren’t actually wondering, but if you asked him, it would seem like you were actually paying attention to the situation at hand and not his hands.

“It looks like the power shut off from a larger source, meaning there could be a blackout citywide. That also means I can’t fix it.”

Hearing you’d be in the dark with no heat source was enough to snap you out of your trance.

“I have an idea.” You led Reid to Garcia’s bat cave, after a memory of Garcia showing you her collection of glow in the dark figurines replayed in your mind.

When you opened the cabinet, you smiled instantly at the sight of all the toys brightly lighting up the inside of the drawer. You knew that spending hours with Garcia listening about her toy collection would pay off eventually. Both of you carried all the toys you could and headed right back into the conference room. You placed them sporadically so that the entire room was dimly lit. Had these been candles instead of luminescent toys, it would’ve been ambient and romantic, but again - they weren’t candles.

Unintentionally, you shivered audibly when a loud wind crashed just outside. The generator went out along with the lights, so it was awfully cold in the room.

Reid was about to give you his sweater when you stopped him by walking right up to him and stealing his body heat in a hug. Rather than embracing him around his sweater, you snaked your arms under the cardigan to really feel his warmth. And as if Reid was trying to kill you with kindness, he pulled the sides of his sweater to stretch around your back and swaddled you into his sweater with him. You smiled against his chest. Not much could make this moment sweeter.

“Better now?” He asked, peering down at your face.

You silently nodded, closing your eyes as if removing your sense of sight would heighten your sense of touch. You wanted to feel his affection as deeply as you could.

“Tell me when you want me to let go.”

“Not yet.”

He laughed at your childish desire to be swaddled like this, but he was enjoying the warmth just as much as you were.

“We can’t do much work with the power out so let’s just try to get some more sleep.” He walked with you to the couch, keeping his promise of not letting go until you told him to.

With the storm outside and the flash flood warning, you two would just have to stay in the conference room until you had the all clear. You weren’t opposed to this entirely, though. There were much worse things you could do than listen to the rain in the arms of Spencer Reid.

“Okay, you can let go now but just for a second.” Your baby voice made him chuckle. He loved how you unabashed you were when asking for his attention. Reid laid down just as he did before, with his back on the backrest of the couch, and instead of having your back to him, you cuddled right up to him. While still wearing his sweater, he covered you in it again, drawing you even closer.

For some reason, even though you were beat and you knew you needed the sleep, you couldn’t seem to shut your mind off and rest. You were awake for what felt like hours. You would’ve tossed and turned all night, but instead, you kept very still so Reid wouldn’t wake up.

You’d be so focused on trying to fall asleep yourself that you didn’t even notice when Reid did. When you looked up, you saw his mouth was slightly agape, his eyes were shut and would occasionally flutter, and when you pressed your ear to his chest, he was breathing much slower than he was earlier.

“If you stay still for 15 minutes, you’ll fall asleep. Just lay in the same position and don’t move.” He mumbled. So he wasn’t asleep? And he knew you weren’t either?

“I have been staying still, but it’s not working.” You whined.

“Just try.” Reid murmured again.

You shut up and sighed, closing your eyes. This time, you made a conscious effort not to move a muscle. You even counted to 60 in your head 15 times, but after those 15 minutes, you were still awake. You weren’t even sure what was causing your insomnia. It was really peaceful to have the sound of the rain cascading down the window and the occasional boom of thunder outside. Being in Spencer’s arms was cozy, too, but there was still something keeping you up.

“Spencer? Are you awake?” You scooted up so you could see his face.

The only thing the moon was illuminating clearly was his lips. There was a distinct beam of silver light casting on his mouth, almost like it was lighting them up specifically. Like some sort of sign. A sudden urge possessed you, so without reason, you brought your hand up to his face and grazed your thumb over his bottom lip. Even with the gentle touch you were using, you were still able to feel how soft it was. You slowly dragged your thumb in a downwards motion, watching the elasticity of his lips cause it to bounce back up into its place. You nearly giggled at the sight. You moved your thumb to the corner of his mouth and followed it upwards to the natural curve of his upper lip. If you weren’t so observant before, you wouldn’t have noticed how Spencer very subtly parted his lips wider for you. Curiosity overcame you and you slowly inched closer to his mouth with your own.

“I think I want to kiss you . . . Can I kiss you?” You spoke in a soft voice, with each of your lips ghosting over his.

A moment of stillness. Maybe he was asleep. Then, a small, very small nod of Reid’s head. You smiled as he let you take control. With your hand already along his jaw, you lifted his face slightly so you could feel the full force of your kiss. You pulled him in closer to relish the soft feeling of his puckered lips. He released his grip on the sweater that was still swaddling you so he could press the small of your back, forcing your hips to drive into his. The need to be even closer was translating into the kiss. It grew hungrier - more passionate and needy. Spencer raised up from the couch, propping himself up on his forearm so he could hover over you. You followed his lead and shifted to be underneath him. With his body over you, he was able to push off his forearms and onto his hands. They were on either side of your head, forcing you to sit up with him so your lips wouldn’t leave his.

“Wait, wait,” He muttered, pulling away. You followed him with your mouth is desperation, until you couldn’t anymore, making you sit up entirely while Spencer backed away.

“What’s wrong?”

“If we don’t stop now, I don’t know if I can stop later . . . I won’t be able to control myself.”

It was in this moment you realize why you were often the only member on the team who’d actually listen to Reid. Nothing he could say would ever turn you off. Any word that escaped his lips was something you wanted to hear. His confession of being uncontrollable was no exception.

“Do you know what I want to do?” There was a newfound confidence in your tone that shocked the both of you.

“What do you want to do, Y/N?” Apparently, Spencer’s tone was just the opposite. He sounded like he was trembling with fear with anticipation.

“Guess.” You flirted.

Even in the dark, you could see Reid’s gears turning as he tried to find the right answer. He read your expression for a hint and made his guess by planting a chaste kiss on your lips.

“You’re cold.”

He quickly caught on. You were making a game out of this.

Hot and cold.

Reid made his next move with uncertainty. He slowly started moving forward to resume the position he had before he pulled away. As he came closer, you followed his lead and leisurely fell back. Every inch he would advance closer to you was an inch that you’d move back further until finally your back was pressed against the couch again and Spencer was hanging over you once more. With each of his hands beside your head, you smirked. “Getting warmer.”

This boosted his confidence. He was heading the right direction, and there was nothing Spencer loved more than to get things right.

The same moonlight that was streaming onto his lips earlier was dancing on his eyes. The hazel color glimmered in the silver light. You could see they were asking, ‘Can I?’ You answered his look with a silent nod.

Spencer reached behind him, following his hand with his eyes as he watched his fingers brush along your thigh. Looking back up at you for permission, which you granted, he peered back down, watching his fingers slip underneath the hem of your skirt. You lifted your hips up so he could raise the skirt all the way up. As if he was uncovering lost treasure, his eyes lit up when you were finally uncovered.

“Fuck me.” He cursed under his breath. This made you ooze with confidence.

You sat up to align your lips right beside his ear. With a breathy voice, you whispered,

“Hot.”

He’d finally figured out what you wanted.

The satisfaction he had in winning your little game gave him the confidence he needed to finally make a move.

Hurriedly, he dragged your panties off, leaving prominent scratches from his nails on your thighs. He threw them somewhere behind him, while you frantically unbuttoned his dress pants. You almost giggled with glee when you saw just how hard he was. You barely did anything to provoke him, but he clearly enjoyed what little you did do.

“I don’t have a -” You cut him off with a hasty kiss.

“You don’t need to worry about that.” You needn’t explain more. He got the message when you reached down and gave his shaft a few shallow strokes.

“Oh-” He was immediately caught off guard by your forwardness. “Wait, wait shouldn’t I . . . um, help you first-”

You smiled at his stutter. “Spencer, please. I need you now.”

There was that unabashed ask for Spencer’s attention that he loved so much. He made small movements until he was properly aligned with your entrance.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you.” He breathlessly uttered, while gradually pushing in.

You thought you would’ve regretted not letting him finger you before in preparation but the bliss was far greater for some reason.

The sensation was definitely new to Spencer when his eyes widened. “Oh fuck. You’re so tight.”

Meanwhile, your face contorted at the feeling of him stretching you out. It was actually more painful than pleasurable.

“Wait, Spencer - I need to change positions.” You panted.

He instantly retracted, looking incredibly sorry. “Here,” He helped you up to your feet while taking a seat on the couch. You didn’t need an IQ of 187 to figure out how to position yourself, so you straddled Spencer, hovering over his erection. Taking charge now that you knew you’d feel more comfortable like this, you reached below you to align his length. Instantly, euphoria washed over you when you lowered yourself all the way until you were practically sitting on his lap. Spencer let out a heavy exhale now that you were able to take all of him in this new position. You moved your hands out from under you and put them on Spencer’s shoulders as a way to stabilize you each time you’d come up. After a few cursory movements, you found a comfortable pace. Spencer couldn’t contain himself, he had to grab your hips in his hands and buck up before, his pelvis meeting your ass before you could even fully lower yourself again. With the tempo of motion increasing drastically because of Spencer’s participation, you couldn’t even adjust to his length anymore. Every time he’d pull out was temporary relief for the ever-growing knot forming in your stomach. You bit back a moan when Spencer curled his hips to thrust into you at a different angle. This stroke mercilessly hit that knot in your stomach, forcing a strangled noise out.

“Don’t stop, Spencer!” You were surprised at how you were even able to put together a cohesive sentence since your brain felt like it was short circuiting.

With Spencer’s curved thrusts, the knot in your stomach grew bigger and bigger. You even felt yourself clench around Spencer. He felt it, too and his head instantly lolled back in pleasure. His eyes rolled to the back of his head with him. Your skin felt prickly as sweat started dripping from your forehead. If you didn’t know any better, the generator was working again because the heat in the room was thick. Spencer’s strokes were growing slower in anticipation. You picked up the pace for him and made a conscious clench around him to help him reach his peak.

“I can’t control myself, Y/N. I need to pull out now.” He sputtered.

You made an indistinct noise that communicated your disapproval. It was the only thing Spencer needed to hear to know that it was okay if he came.

“Cum for me, baby.” You moaned, knowing you were going to follow close behind.

He dug his nails into your hips, bringing you back to reality as if it was his way of pinching you to tell you it was real. From the pain of his hands clawing into you, you almost couldn’t feel him coming, until you felt it dribble down your inner thigh. Suddenly, it felt like his warm essence made electricity surge through your body and course through your veins. With a speed faster than light itself, the knot in your stomach released. You cried out as his seed mixed with your own and cascaded down like the relentless rain outside cascaded down the window. The euphoria of your orgasm brought you to a complete stop.

“Holy fuck.” You swallowed hard. The inside of your mouth was dry from where it hung open for so long.

Spencer was at a loss for words. His silence was so unfamiliar you had to giggle.

“You okay?” You lifted yourself off of his lap to gain some clarity. He gulped hard.

“Am I dreaming?” He sounded genuinely dazed and confused, it was adorable.

Garcia’s glow in the dark toys helped you to find a box of tissues. You took one from the box and wiped yourself before pulling your skirt back down. Meanwhile, Spencer zipped up his pants and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Spencer,” You laughed a little. “You’re scaring me. Are you okay?”

He hadn’t changed his spot on the couch so you straddled his lap again, this time with more pure intentions.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his neck, while his hands rested on your hips again and his lips were pressing on your shoulder, leaving quick pecks.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He confessed against your skin. You leaned back so you could see his face and kept your hands behind his head to play with the hair on the nape of his neck. Enjoying your soothing touch, he closed his eyes and tilted his head to lay against your wrist. He was so precious like this. With Spencer’s head cocked to the side, a distinct beam of light was revealed. This time it was shining onto your face, almost like what it feels like when you accidentally walk past a projector screen and look at the projector light. In this instance though, the light wasn’t nearly as blinding. It was soft and ethereal. It lit up the rain falling on the other side of the window. It even displayed signs of steam coming from the inside. You could see condensation running down the pane. It had gotten so hot in here because of you two that steam was produced. That felt like some sort of accomplishment. You mirthlessly chuckled and leaned forward. With this sudden movement, your chest was pressing against Spencer’s. He was forced to lift his head back up from your wrist when he wanted to examine what you were doing. You leaned past the backrest of the couch and exhaled a hot breath onto the window to make it fog up. Spencer watched you do this over his shoulder, trying to figure out what you were doing. With the glass fogged up, you started drawing a heart with your index finger. You lazily shaded in the heart and looked back at Spencer to show off your creation. It wasn’t pretty by any means, but it meant something.

Spencer pulled a hand away from your hip to use his fingers to add to the drawing. To the left of the heart, Spencer drew a vertical line with a dot above it, and then to the right of it he drew a small horseshoe shape. You pouted your lips when you finally got the message.

i ♡ u

You looked at him before blowing another hot breath onto the already existing fog to extend it. You drew a number right beside it.

i ♡ u 2

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#smut #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds smut

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spenciegoob · 4 years ago

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11 Minutes

A/N: Hi this is lovely based on the song 11 Minutes by Yungblud featuring Halsey, so if you’ve heard that song before, man I’m really sorry for this one. If you haven’t... man I’m really really sorry for this one. Also yes this is really short I’m sorry.

Couple: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral!Reader

Category: Fluff/Angst

Content Warning: death of a major character, car accident, therapy

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.4K

____

“Spencer, the last two times that I’ve seen you, we’ve sat in silence,” the doctor pointed out, obviously annoyed that her patient, who ironically enough had more PhDs, was wasting their time. “I know it’s hard to start, but the best place to, is from the beginning.”

“Y/N. Their name was Y/N.” This was the first time Doctor Fredricks heard Spencer say anything besides their usual before meeting greetings, and after meetings scheduling. “I heard it all, you know?”

“Heard what, Spencer?”

“Everything.”

“Spencer, I promise you I am getting in the car now. You’ll get to see me in 15 minutes,” you laughed into the phone at your very impatient boyfriend.

“Actually, I’ll see you in 17 minutes and 42 seconds give or take traffic patterns and how awful your first attempt at parking is.” It had been exactly 9 days 7 hours 24 minutes and 43 seconds since you last saw Spencer, and he wasn’t the one counting down by the second this time.

“Hey!” You barked right back. You weren’t the greatest parker in the world, but there was no need to mention it. “I could walk and skip the parking altogether.”

“No,” he whined, growing more impatient by the second. “That’ll take you an hour, and it’s been enough time since I got to see you. Please love bug, I take back the parking comment.”

“Alright, alright, alright. You’re getting off the hook...” you said as you put the key in the engine, but before you turned the car on, you mumbled, “this time.”

“I heard that!” You couldn’t stop the guilty giggle from escaping your throat and into the speaker of the phone. “Did I just hear your car turn on? I’m hanging u-”

“No, sh. I’m putting you on speaker. Don’t worry, doctor. I’m not on my phone while driving.” Of course Spencer would be nervous about you being distracted by anything while driving, he had the statistics lodged in his brain about car accident deaths.

“Did you know that roughly 1.35 mi-”

“Million people in the US die on the road with an average of 3,700 per day? How could I forget?” You cut him off, hearing this rant every time you went to change the station on your car radio.

“You’re on speaker, and I’ve been driving for 2 minutes already. I think I’ll be fine for the next 15, I promise.” You both knew it was ridiculous to stay on the phone as you headed over to his apartment. It was like the two of you couldn’t wait another second without the other, and thankfully modern technology granted you both that.

“It’s dangerous, love bug, and you know it.” Spencer just would not give up, would he? You’ve had your license for over a decade, and yet he held onto the handle next to his window as if he was your mother teaching you to drive for the first time whenever he was in the car with you. “Plus you speed.”

“What can I say? I like to live on the danger side. Plus do you really want to talk about car deaths, or can I yell at you for insulting my driving TWICE now,” you joked, feigning offense to Spencer’s truthful mean comments about your driving.

“I would much rather talk about how much I missed you,” he sweet-talked to you. While it was cute and all, you knew it was just so you would immediately forget about his little backhand driving comments.

“I missed you, too, my love.” Of course it worked. It was Spencer Goddamn Reid.

“How much longer?” The tone of a little boy in a candy shop whose parents just said no to pounds of sugar returned. You smiled and shook your head to yourself.

“According to maps, 13 minutes.” You let your mind wander as you stared out into the road ahead of you. How did you get so lucky with Spencer?

The day you two reached for the same book in a small library that was almost hidden to the street outside was the best day of your life. You and Spencer talked for hours about Emily Dickinson, other authors, composers and personal lives. It felt natural to spend time with him, and if you could, you’d spend every waking moment with him. That day, you hadn't even realized that 5 hours had passed, nor did you realize you never asked for his name in that amount of time.

“Don��t speed, but hurry up...please.”

“Spencer, how am I supposed to do those things at once?” The light turned red before you could run it, adding at least another 30 seconds before you got to see him.

“I’m 11 minutes away. The lights in this city just su-” You never got to finish your sentence, because the car behind you forgot to stop.

Your head shot forward, hitting the top of the steering wheel as your car and the pick up truck coming at you at 40 miles an hour made impact. Your car had involuntarily skidded in the middle of the intersection. Thankfully, however, it wasn’t a busy one.

“Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?!” You hadn’t registered Spencer’s insistent yelling through the speaker in your phone until the ringing in your eyes subsided to a small dull.

“Y-Yeah,” you croaked out. “Some ass just hit me from behind.”

That’s when you looked to the left of you.

They say when people die, they see a white light at the end of a tunnel, but you saw two. You saw two headlights coming in your direction at a speed that you knew was impossible to stop. The weight the truck carried along with the amount of force used to halt the tires in their place made it so that the driver had no choice.

“You know I love you, Spencer. I love you so much.” You stared death in the eyes, it coming in the form of yellow lights and a blaring horn you knew Spencer could hear on the other end.

“Y/N, I-”

“I never got the chance to actually say it back.” Spencer finished recollecting your death, something he only did in the comfort of his home, alone with nothing but the silent sobs that raked through his body.

“Spencer, you don’t have to tell me for me to know that you blame yourself,” Dr. Fredricks spoke calmly, too calm for Spencer’s liking. He had just told her about the worst moment of his life, and she still held the same tone as if she was saying see you next week.

“How could I not?” He started to get more upset by the second, his voice rising in volume and his body leaning forward. “How do I sit here, and not blame myself? I called them that day. I was the one that rushed them. Me, no one else, but me!”

“Were you driving either cars that hit them?” Spencer knew what she was doing. Dr. Fredricks was trying to get him to admit it wasn’t his fault, so instead of giving in, he stayed silent. She sighed before continuing.

“You need closure, Spencer. The wound is still so fresh that it will never start to heal if you don’t let it.” At this, Spencer sat back and fiddled with his fingers.

She was right. He needed to start healing instead of ripping the wound farther across this heart, cutting deeper each time.

“That’s all the time we have for today. You’ve made great progress this week, and I hope that we can follow that pattern next week as well.” Spencer smiled down at his therapist as he stood up to walk out.

“Oh, and Spencer,” Dr. Fredrick called out. He stopped and turned, expecting a reminder he didn’t need for next week’s time.

“Their last words were I love you. Don’t ever forget they meant it.”

Spencer finally let a tear run down his cheek, the first time he cried in front of anyone after your death.

He nodded before walking out onto the busy DC street. As he was walking, Spencer took out his phone, flipping it between hands, contemplating his next move.

‘Closure, Spencer. You need closure.’ He kept repeating in his mind.

Finding a bench, he sat down to search his contacts for the one name he couldn’t bring himself to delete.

Before Spencer could rethink his next move, he made it, pressing the call button. The phone didn’t even ring, it just went straight to voicemail.

‘Hey! Sorry I missed you, I’m probably asleep. Leave a message, but I can’t promise I’ll listen to it. Bye!’

“Hey, love bug.”

____

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dokidokey · 4 years ago

Text

who would have thought that passing a 20-page paper 5 days late would lead you to dabi?

word count: 3,765

tags & warnings: bad boy x straight a student au, college au, fluff, a pinch of endeavor slander, brief mention of throwing up, brief mention of abuse (nothing explicit, the word just gets mentioned once!)

notes: hi zeze (@reddriot), i’m your secret santa! sorry this is so late, we’re on our way home at this ungodly hour and i finally have some stable connection now lmao. i’m so so sorry but also, happy holidays! i hope you enjoy what my pretty much dry and blank mind managed to cook up lol i’m so thankful and i met you and got to know you. <3 thank u for everything. and the title lol omg i’m so bad at titles but i kind realized it rhymes with ornaments, so i left it at that.

The day you met Todoroki Touya was not a good day. You would even consider it a bad week, actually. Apparently, you were a week late on a 20-page paper for History and you didn’t even know. It irked you because you have no other excuse except that you didn’t know. There was a totally different due date in your head, one that wasn’t five days ago. So when your teacher shook her head disapprovingly while tucking your 20-page paper against the smooth surface of her desk, you had no other choice but to leave the room.

You wouldn’t want a teacher to see you cry over a late submission. You certainly wouldn’t want other students roaming the hallway to see you cry either, so you had to fight off the warmth pooling at the corners of your eyes. The last corner leading to the campus library was where Todoroki Touya presented himself.

The impact of your bodies bumping against each other came first, then the stinging pinch of something hot against your skin next. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you pulled your arm away, eyes widening at the sight of a small, circular burn mark on your forearm.

“You burned － Why are you smoking here?” The accusing tone in your voice immediately disappeared and replaced by panic as you watched a quite familiar face bring a cigarette to his lips, perfectly poised between his long fingers. “You’re not allowed to smoke on campus grounds!”

A puff of smoke swirled through the air as he huffed, the corner of his lips twitching as he eyed you up and down. The intense, blue eyes taking over your body sent shivers down your spine, arms protectively crossing over your front to try and shield yourself from his gaze.

“Not if I don’t get caught,” he smirked, bringing the cigarette back up to his lips. The man was familiar; face and most of his skin that’s exposed under the leather jacket were covered in scars, a dark contrast against his fair complexion. You’re sure you will never forget him if you knew him, but the familiarity of his face doesn’t ring any names in your head.

He puffed out the smoke in a harsh breath, the delicate sound seeming so loud in the quiet and isolated hallway. For a moment you forgot about your late History paper and the chances of you getting anything lower than an A.

Both of your palms met the fabric of your denim-clad thigh in a light slap, arms sagging and voice raising. “If you and I get caught－!”

“Then leave.”

The deadpan and harsh delivery of his words left you open-mouthed, the disapproving look of your teacher once again flashing in your mind. The corners of your eyes warmed again, stinging more than the way it did earlier.

You’re croaking out an unwanted explanation before you realized it. “I － I might get detention and－,” you sniffled, trying to prevent the tears from flowing because you know how embarrassing that would be, so much so to this mysterious person who you found familiar but not really. “And my parents－.”

A scoff cuts you off. You watched as he killed the ember of the cigarette using his bare fingers, pinching the lit end between his thumb and forefinger before tucking it in one of his front pockets. If it weren’t for the strong stench of the cigarette, no one would suspect that he was smoking here, in front of you, inside campus grounds.

“Of course. Precious little [Name] can’t have bad grades and a bad record.”

He said it as if it was so bad. You wouldn’t normally find offense on jabs like those, but today wasn’t just your day. Your retort died down quickly in your throat though when you realized he said your name. He knew you.

With furrowed brows and quivering lips, you asked, “how do you know me?”

The dark-haired man leaned on the concrete wall, shoving a hand down the pocket of his pants. “Who wouldn’t know the teachers’ favorite student? Straight A, little miss [Name].”

It was your turn to scoff. “Favorite,” you mocked, eyes rolling, “I didn’t know being the favorite meant not considering the fact that I didn’t know the deadline was 5 days ago without anyone else informing me.”

A smirk blossomed on his stupidly handsome face. “For once you didn’t get away with something, huh?”

“Didn’t get away? I didn’t know! I had no idea! It’s not my fault.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s true.”

“If you say so,” he chuckled, pushing himself off the wall and taking two steps back, eyes still on you. He winked, then turned around. The silence in the hallway felt deafening as you stood there, but the quick footsteps of his figure walking back towards you eats up the quiet. “Or on second thought,” he says, tapping a foot on the floor, “I can excuse you to the teacher about your late paper.”

It seemed like the tears of frustration pooling at the sides of your eyes retreated back to your tear glands, ears more than ready to hear out whatever his proposition was.

“If you act as my fake girlfriend for a Christmas dinner with my family, I’ll tell the teacher that I tricked you about the deadline.”

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “And that’s going to work?”

“Have you seen me, doll? I’m that boy your teacher refers to as a bad influence.”

“You should not be hanging out with people like him, [Name.]”

Mrs. Nakamura’s disappointed tone does nothing to stop the smile spreading on your face, though you tried to suppress it to not come off as suspicious. You’re nodding your head like you’re agreeing with her, knowing that that will not happen any time soon because you have a Christmas dinner with your boyfriend’s family in less than three weeks.

“Go on then,” your teacher waved her hand, “you aren’t marked as late but remember what I told you. If you keep that boy around you, trouble’s sure to follow.”

The hallway didn’t feel as dark and lonesome as it did earlier. It’s surely not because of the other person walking along with you. You’d like to think that, but a part of you knew you might just be lying. And it was stupid, really. Were you really harboring a crush over him? You. . . don’t even know his name.

“What’s your name?”

A choked laugh was the reply you got. “What? You don’t know me?”

“You’re familiar. I just can’t put a name on you,” you shrugged.

“Touya. Todoroki Touya,” he answered, grimacing. “But call me Dabi. That’s what my friends call me.”

“Are you saying we’re friends?” You grinned, looking up at him. He was tall, okay. So much more taller than you. You barely reached his shoulders.

“Technically, you’re my girlfriend, so no. We are not friends.”

You decided technicalities weren’t so bad when Dabi almost never left your side. The sudden (and quite cliché yet comic) pair you two made didn’t go unnoticed by the teachers. Mrs. Nakamura reminded you every single day about Dabi and his troubles. You aren’t aware what kind of troubles Dabi is associated in yet, but you’d like to think you’ll get there.

When you agreed to pretend to be his girlfriend, you didn’t think it would be this kind of long-term thing. You thought that maybe he’ll leave you alone after that day and just hit you up again on the day of the dinner, but you were so wrong.

You’ve never liked being wrong as much as you did about him.

“Stop fussing, my mom’s going to love you.”

He’s said that for the fourth time now. You’re making him more antsy than you are with your bouncing leg and deep sighs every ten seconds.

“And your dad?” You glare at him, wiping your clammy hands on your jeans and bouncing your leg again. He rolls his eyes as an answer.

In the short, three weeks you’ve gotten to know Dabi, you learned a lot about him. One, he hates his father passionately. Two, the teachers don’t really like him (but that sounds so mean when worded like that so you like to think he just isn’t the favorite student.) Three, he’s allergic to fish. Four, he pays attention to every single thing you say. Five, he’s actually the eldest out of the four Todoroki children and lastly, (this is more about you than him) maybe you let your little crush fester more than you planned.

You’ve had to berate yourself multiple times that he is not your boyfriend. You and Dabi are not in a real relationship. This is all a product of your grades being saved and an arrangement to fill up an empty seat at his family’s dinner for Christmas.

“What if your sister doesn’t like me,” you say meekly, “or your brother. And your other brother.”

Dabi shifts on the bench you both are sitting on to face you properly, placing a warm hand over your sweaty ones. “Stop it. They’re going to love you.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes but really, you’re just having a hard time making your brain function properly to process a reply when his hands are there, on top of yours, warm and soothing. It makes your heart do a little happy dance inside your chest that you know it should not be doing, but you can’t help it.

You’re way too deep into this hell, and you don’t know how you’ll take it when he cuts you off after you both benefit from this arrangement you have.

When Dabi pulls you up to stand up before he walks you home, you try to remember how his hands felt against yours.

“You look nice.”

Nice. You had to rummage through your closet for this halter dress, the most decent thing you can find that can fit for a Christmas dinner. It’s 6 PM on the 24th of December and even though this isn’t how you expected to spend the night before Christmas, here you are anyway.

“You look nice too,” you compliment, taking in how Dabi is wearing an actual pair of decent slacks and a button up. A nervous laugh bubbles out of your throat. “You said it was a simple dinner date so I was kind of expecting you to just show up in one of your old, ragged jeans, you know?!”

He quirks his head to the left, the sides of his lips turned up. Dabi offers you his hand as you descend the few steps from your apartment door. “It was,” he says, “but my mom made me wear this when I said I’ll bring a girl over.”

“Haven’t you brought a girl over before?”

A mischievous smile spreads over Dabi’s face, a thumb pressing a gentle pressure on the back of your hand. “No. You’re special because you’re the first one.”

Great. It’s not like you’re not nervous enough about meeting the Todorokis. He just has to tell you you’re the first girl his family will meet. What makes it worse is that you aren’t really Dabi’s girlfriend. It seems a little selfish on both of your parts to let the rest of his family get to know you and then you’ll never see them again because, well, this arrangement can’t last forever, can it?

“And you have a car?” You gasp, eye zeroing in on the sleek, black vehicle parked across the street where you both are heading. “You have a car?”

He chuckles, shaking his head side to side. “This is my dad’s, actually.” He says it again with an eye roll, opening up the passenger door for you. “He only made me use it to impress you.”

“Like I’m not impressed enough?” You huff out a laugh, palms gliding over the dashboard.

“Impressed by what?”

You, you’d like to answer, but for the sake of your sad excuse of a relationship, you keep your mouth shut.

“Things.”

The ride to their place was filled with back and forth banter from you and Dabi. He’s tried to calm you down when a new wave of nervousness surged within you but as you stand in front of their door with hands sweating an entire Pacific ocean, it’s obvious his attempt didn’t work.

“Calm down,” Dabi says, forehead scrunched as he watches you fiddle with the skirt of your dress. You’ve been standing there for about two minutes now and if your goal is to make your nervousness rub off on him, then you’re doing a pretty good job.

“Is my hair okay?” You fuss over some more, smoothing out the unruly strands that weren’t even there. “Is my face－?”

Dabi grabs your hands in his, calloused fingers wrapping around yours. The words die in your throat as you look up at him with wide eyes, mind blanking out at the warmth on your palm.

“You look beautiful, okay? If you touch your hair or smooth your skirt one more ti－.”

“I knew I heard you guys!”

An enthusiastic voice of a girl almost the same height as you rings through your ears and you look over to see his sister, Fuyumi, white and red hair parted in the middle and over her shoulders. You’ve seen her in some pictures in Dabi’s phone because you’re in that stage where you can just casually unlock and go through Dabi’s phone. (You haven’t seen anything unusual yet, just some candid pictures of you that you have no idea how he took. Bless your poor heart after you discovered that album dedicated just for you.)

Fuyumi places her hands on her hips, smiling brightly at you. “I thought Touya was just lying about you to escape the marriage arranged for him but turns out he isn’t.” She opens the door wider for you and Dabi. “Come in. Mom’s been waiting for you.”

The Todoroki household is neat. Minimalist. You aren’t sure if it’s spacious or it’s an illusion due to the lack of decorations inside. Fuyumi immediately hugs you after you and Dabi are completely inside, and she leads you away to meet Natsuo and Shouto. The sight of Natsuo startles you at first. He looks exactly like how you envisioned Dabi to be if he didn’t have scars. And seriously, what’s up with this family having scars? You noticed a dark crimson circling Shouto’s right eye.

Mrs. Todoroki is the most welcoming of them all, if not as much as Fuyumi. Her hand immediately went to your hair, patting softly and smiling delicately at you.

“I never imagined the day would come when Touya finally brings home a girl,” she whispers. The sight of her eyes getting glassy is enough to make your own gloss over, though it’s for an entirely different reason. How cruel can you and Dabi be to pretend and lie like this in front of his mom?

“Oh, please don’t cry! Did I make you cry?” She laughs tearfully, squeezing your shoulder. You choke out a laugh at her reaction, shaking your head no.

“I leave her alone for five minutes and you already made her cry?” Comes Dabi’s voice at the entryway of the kitchen, his tall frame blocking the path. He walks over to where you and Rei are standing, placing a warm hand on the small of your back. “What did mom say to make you cry?”

Rei sniffles and you dab a finger under your eyes, trying to keep your tears at bay. “Nothing,” you reply, unconsciously leaning back on his chest as you keep your emotions in check. In front of you, Rei has a fond look in her eyes as she watches Dabi tuck a strand of hair behind your ears and your wobbly smile directed at her son.

Your little moment is ruined when the front door shuts close with a loud rattle. Dabi tenses behind and you crane your neck enough to see across the living room a tall and broad man with bright red hair.

“That’s your father,” Mrs. Todoroki sighs.

The food is good but the dinner is awkward. Todoroki Enji made sure that either you nor Dabi will be able to sit through tonight peacefully.

“I’m surprised you managed to stick around my son this long,” Enji rumbles, looking at you briefly before going back to his meal. Four months. That’s what you and Dabi came up with for your pretend relationship. You’ve been dating for four months and you both knew each other after getting paired up for a History project. It’s not much of a lie since you did meet because of History.

“I’m surprised Dabi managed to stick around me this long,” you reply nervously, trying to make light of the situation. It seems you only made it worse when Enji’s sharp eyes bote onto yours.

“Dabi?” He inquires, head tilting to the side. The rest of the Todorokis are quiet except him. “You call him that?”

You nod, stomach churning. Any time now and you might just throw up. “You call him by that name, huh?” He chuckles hollowly, shaking his head. “Imagine my surprise when I saw you here, much less as Touya’s infamous girlfriend. If I didn’t know better, he just hired you as a fake girlfriend to run away from tradition.”

Tradition. Right. Dabi has mentioned to you once that his parents were arranged. He’s told you how he knows his father doesn’t really love his mom. You know about the abuse and the way he treats his family.

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong because what Dabi－,” you pause, turning briefly to look at him, “Touya. What Touya and I have is pretty much real.”

Enji scoffs, a large, heavy palm slapping on the smooth surface of their mahogany table. “Tell me that again when you’re still here a year from now.”

“Sure,” you smile, cheeks aching with how forced it is. It baffles you how Dabi’s father has all the authority in this household －how no one dares to object or talk back.

Todoroki Enji decides to surprise when deep chuckles start escaping his lips. “You,” he points a finger at you, “I like you. You’re brave. Not a single person in this household can face me like that. You’re too good for that boy,” he nods over Dabi’s direction. From your peripheral, you can see just how tight Dabi’s hands are clenched, and you reach over to place one over his.

“Actually, he’s too good for me,” you quip back. You have no idea where this sudden surge of confidence is coming from, but that doesn’t matter. You need to say what you have to say. You wouldn’t be seeing this family ever again after this anyways. “Touya is actually a good man. He’s more than what meets the eye. Maybe you’ll know that if you paid enough attention to him － and all your children, honestly.”

There’s no taking back what you just spewed out. Too stunned, you aren’t aware of the smug smirk and raised eyebrows Dabi is sporting. You don’t see the way Natsuo is trying to fight off his smile. Mrs. Todoroki and Fuyumi have a hand in their faces and Shouto, for the first time since you arrived, looks at you wholly and quite in awe. With your blood rushing in your ears and heart beating erratically, you open your mouth to excuse yourself, but Dabi beats you to it.

“Now if you would just excuse us.” And he’s tugging on your hand. You whisper out a quiet “I’m sorry,” when you pass by Rei, and you’re out of the front door.

“So,” you grin, hugging the mug of hot chocolate to your chest with your feet tucked beneath you. “On a scale of one to ten, how good was I at ruining your family’s dinner?”

After that whole dinner fiasco, you both just decided to go home to your apartment. Dabi is currently sprawled over the other end of your couch, his feet perched on the coffee table (you told him three times already to put it down) and three of his shirt buttons are undone. He’s got his own cup of hot chocolate on his hand, the other playing with the frills of your throw pillow.

“An eleven,” he grins back at you. He leans over and places his mug on the table. “That took guts.”

You nod. “It did. It just didn’t sit right with me how he talked about you like that, like － I remember you telling me how he used to be all over you as a child, but after Shouto was born, he neglected all of you. He isn’t － That’s not － What kind of father does that?” You sigh, groaning when you remember Rei and the rest of his siblings had to witness that.

“That is so embarrassing. I’m pretty sure your mom hates me now.”

“Trust me,” Dabi chuckles, sitting upright and moving closer to you, “she does not. You should have seen Natsu. He was about to lose it.”

“Still,” you press, throwing him a dirty look. “Who talks like that to their boyfriend’s dad on the first meeting?”

Dabi stares at you, turquoise eyes brighter than ever. “So I’m your boyfriend now?”

You’re pretty sure your heart just skipped a beat at that. “I mean, t-technically. Right? That was － That was what we － That was what we were pretending to be.”

Reality dawns on you again. This is all pretend. No matter how warm Rei and his sibling welcomed you, no matter how much Rei adored you, you’ll never see them again. This is a one time thing － something beneficial for the two of you. And as much as it breaks your heart that you got attached to Dabi that fast, you try to hide your sadness by saying, “at least I won’t see them again, so technically, talking back to your dad is fine.”

“Do you want to though?”

“I － What?”

Dabi leans closer. “Do you want to stop pretending?”

You don’t answer. You can’t answer. “Is this a trick question?”

He goes closer. The tips of his hair are grazing your forehead. Even this close, Dabi seems to be looming over you. “I wouldn’t mind making it real.”

“I really don’t want to see your father again,” you whisper. Dabi barely closes the gap between the two of you, nose touching yours.

“We can arrange that.”

more notes: tbh this kind of strayed, uh, kinda far from the bad boy x straight a student au but that’s just because most of what i plan ends up straying kind of far from the original idea. but never mind that, i’m happy with how this turned out. EXCUSE ME THAT LAST LINE? WITH THE ARRANGE THING? HELLO? AM I GIVING MYSELF TOO MUCH CREDITS? I MIGHT BE, BUT I DON’T CARE. also ze (´ ▽｀) if you ever get tagged by me on another dabi fic, it’s just me making up for this late post i am sorry.

#dabi x reader #dabi #dabi fluff #dabi angst #dabi scenarios #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha angst #bnha fluff #omfg my first dabi fic bye

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hannie-dul-set · 4 years ago

Text

US, AGAIN | four.

SUMMARY. they say history repeats itself, but you’d like to disagree. you had to disagree. history changes, even if you had to force it. but when all your attempts to twist fate were met by nothing but the flashing recurrences of the past, what were you supposed to do?

or, wherein you try everything in your power to have nothing to do with na jaemin, but na jaemin wants nothing but you.

PAIRING. na jaemin x female! reader GENRE. college! au, historical! au, soulmate! au, past lives, forbidden love stuff, reincarnation, romance, drama, humor, angst, fluff, looots of flashbacks, this is an entire kdrama, very loosely inspired by the webtoon “see you in my 19th life” WARNINGS. (for this chapter only) swearing, night terrors, hospital mentions, passing out, the works hgdhjasf WORD COUNT. 5.1k

NOTE. I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG <///3 but life is life thank god we only have to go through this once unlike our dearest mc HJGASDJSF anyway!! lots of jaemin fluff here!! you’ll want to punch him in the face!! hope u enjoy <3

CHAPTER FOUR: why the sun sets and rises

(Running.

Through the winding branches that cut into the air, the silver lake, the jagged ground, the clouds in the wind at each and every shallow pant, you were running—

A gunshot.

—running until your legs gave away.)

You woke up in a cold sweat.

God.

Looking around, you noticed that it was far too early for you to be awake— the hazy light that barely slipped through the thin curtains, the desolate silence that seemed to have consumed your room whole, and the bedside digital clock down below you that said 6:21AM in big bold letters, indicating that you should be fast asleep especially after staying up at ungodly hours in the morning finishing up an assignment. But even after burying your head in between two of your pillows, you couldn’t even suffocate yourself into unconsciousness.

You groaned and jumped off of the top bunk.

When your feet landed on the floor, you had expected to see Seungah’s ghost of a face lying sideways on the bottom bunk, but all that met you was a small, neon orange sticky note laying soundly on her smoothed out pillow. ‘Had to leave early to the diner! Eat the breakfast I made you or else xoxo’, it said. You sighed.

There was no point mulling over the past when you had an entire future to take care of.

“Oh my gosh.”

Hong Nabi was in shock with what she saw when she arrived at the benches by the garden to work on your group assignment today. It was shocking to the point that she dropped all her binders and papers onto the pavement.

You sighed, sliding out of your seat to help her. She spared you a few, quick glances as the both of you were slouched on the floor, and he couldn’t help but bite her bottom lip in worry. The Y/N that was usually so cool, so put together, and so unbothered looked like she was casket ready. That, or ready to star in a Tim Burton animation.

“Is it Halloween today..?”

“Let’s just get this thing started,” you groaned, finally finished cleaning things up and you were now back onto your seat. Nabi sat right in front of you, organizing her now jumbled up material. She wanted to ask if you were okay— but would that be offensive considering that you were very clearly not? Still, she opened her mouth to speak, but was scared into silence when you suddenly cursed out loud. “Since when did this become a paired project? Where the hell are they?”

Nabi pressed her lips together, looking around. “I’m not sure.”

You still had around two weeks more until the presentation, but that didn’t mean that they could slack off as much as they wanted. In a fit, you grabbed your phone from your sling bag, exasperatedly tapping on the fragile screen that Nabi was almost sure that you were going to break it, but before you managed to burst a vein, an incoming sound of noises and laughter approached your ears.

Boys will be boys, but you weren’t having any of that shit.

“Yah,” the moment Jeno, Renjun, and Donghyuck showed up at your table as if nothing was wrong, you decided to smack the nearest head with a rolled up sheet of stapled paper. “Didn’t we agree to start at nine?”

“Yah,” Donghyuck snatched the weapon from you, his other hand focused on caressing the spot on his head that you’d just every so gently smacked. “Don’t you ‘yah yah’ me, missy. Did you forget that you’re younger than us?”

If only he knew.

“Is that so? You should grow a sense of responsibility, then. It doesn’t take fifty fucking years.”

With that, you let out a huff and swung your laptop open.

The rest of the people occupying the table exchanged concerned glances as they shuffled to find seats of their own. They haven’t known you for long, but this type of temperament from you was arguably out of the ordinary. Even when Donghyuck would strike a chord too dangerously, you wouldn’t snap at him— today, you weren’t your usual self, and they all mutually agreed in silence that they were going to tread carefully if they still wanted their heads attached to their necks.

When the sounds of your fingers clicking against the keyboard stopped, they felt their hearts stopping, as well.

You looked up from the laptop screen, proceeding to look around, closed your eyes, and then breathed out. “Where’s Jaemin?”

At that moment they all flipped their phones open, scrolling, clicking, and typing before they can taste any more of your unraveled temper. You had to admit, you were feeling a little guilty for being such a bitch. A part of it was yes, sleep deprivation, shitty nightmares, and a whole truck load of stress can really take a toll on your sanity, but the other part was voluntary.

Jeno looked up, the first person who managed to pinpoint Jaemin’s whereabouts. “He just texted. He says he’s running— oh, there he is.”

There he was indeed, a couple of feet away from where you all were. Once you confirmed that he wasn’t absent, you turned back to continue working, but the rest of them continued to stare at Jaemin, who was barely hanging onto his dear life, sweating and panting. And as they all watched the poor boy breathlessly running towards the table, they all thought of the same thing with one mind, heart, and soul.

Na Jaemin was a dead man.

He pulled up right in front of you, hunched over breathless with his hands on his knees. He stood up and promptly apologized. “Ahh, so sorry for being late. I had to stop by somewhere and there was traffic. I’m really—”

“I didn’t ask about your personal business,” you hummed, not even looking at him. Everyone, not only Jaemin, flinched at your explicit coldness. “Did you get the files that we need?”

He looked at you. You weren’t looking at him, but you knew he was looking at you.

“...Yeah. Hold on.”

As if the mood wasn’t already shit earlier, it actually turned into absolute horse crap after Jaemin arrived. It wasn’t his fault, really, but circumstance after circumstance didn’t exactly paint the prettiest picture of him. When the clock finally struck eleven in the morning, everyone except you all released a synchronous sigh. “We’re done today, right?” Renjun asked, and you responded with a quick nod, noticeably a lot more mellow than earlier.

Nabi stood up and started fixing her things. “I’ll send everything later to you tonight, Y/N,” she smiled at you.

“Yeah, sure,”’ you hummed, nodding. “Thank you.”

The four boys froze. Why were you being nice to her? Of course, their complaints were verbalized into nothing more than silent whines, groans, and grumbles that easily flew above your ears, Jaemin being a lot more quiet about voicing his complaints than the rest despite taking most of your attacks.

Still, even if you were being particularly thorny to him, he thought it would be a good idea to speak out just as you were about to leave. “Do the both of you have any classes after this? We were planning on getting lunch together,” he said. “Would you like to join? My treat.”

You looked at him. There was a polite smile on your face. Evidently forced.

“No, thanks.”

Donghyuck let out a genuine gasp.

“Did she just—” he stammered, switching his sight back and forth from Jaemin to you. “Did she just turn down a free meal offer?”

“She did,” you sighed, rolling your eyes as he continued to gawk at you. You picked up your heavy bag from the bench seat. “I gotta get going. Have fun, you guys.”

And you let them just like that, with five pairs of eyes trained at the back of your head until they finally lost sight of you.

For someone like you, the bulletin boards at the bus stops were like a gold mine. A gold mine of part-time jobs just waiting to be filled. There were flyers haphazardly plastered onto the board, all in different colors and different fonts. You bit a chunk off of the granola bar that served as your lunch for today, eyes meticulously scanning the available offers, a few flyers already wedged in between your armpit.

“Hair salon assistant— can’t do that. Diner waitress— a hard maybe. Already have a restaurant job pending, my shifts might clash. Library assistant? Alright, I need to check it out further, though. What about a movie— oh!— oh my god, you scared me.”

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

Sooah suddenly appeared beside you, looking up as she clutched her backpack straps. You let out a sigh of relief upon the realization that it was just her.

“Fancy seeing you here, cadet,” you hummed, folding the neatly folding the few flyers that you had and shoving into your sling bag along with the emptied granola bar wrapper. “Are your classes over?”

“Mhm! I’m waiting for my mom to pick me up.”

“Aren’t you honored to spend time with me as you wait?”

You let out a chuckle, sitting down on the wooden seat, patting down the empty spot beside you, and Sooah happily hopped to sit down right away. Peeling off one of the flyers stuck onto the board, you decided to fold it— once, twice, countless more times until the flat, square piece of paper was now shaped into a lotus flower. Sooah beamed in amazement.

“Y/N,” she started, and you dropped the little paper flower onto her tiny hands. She placed it on her lap before looking up to you, large eyes hinted with curiosity. “The story you told us last time— was it a true story?”

You suddenly felt a chill in the air.

“...Why do you ask?”

“Oh, well,” she mused. “My mommy is a Korean Literature teacher at my school, but she teaches a grade above me. Sometimes, I’d go through her stuff to read some stories that I haven’t read in my class, and the other day—”

Uh oh.

After living for twelve whole lifetimes and currently going through your thirteenth, there was always this feeling that haunted you all throughout, a feeling that you were all too familiar with. It was gnawing, grinding, and chewing up the bottom most part of your gut. A warning sign for something bad to come.

You were definitely feeling that right now.

“—I found the same story as the one you told us, big sis.”

Yep. It was never wrong, and it never will be. You bit down your bottom lip.

“And I found something interesting!” oh, how much more must anxiety drown you, but Sooah seemed so excited that you didn’t have the heart to stop her. You raised a brow, urging her, and she smiled brightly. “You said you don’t remember the girl’s name, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Y/N! She has the same name as you!”

Of fucking course.

“The last name is different, though—” she added as an afterthought. “She was Song Y/N, and you’re not. Still. Isn’t it really cool?”

Not cool at all. You wanted to scream, maybe cry a little and lose a generous chunk of your mind, because as far as you knew, there had never been an instance where you had heard of this story being shared to the public— to an entire class, nonetheless. It shouldn’t matter, right? It wasn’t your life anymore. Just an old, tragic tale passed on from mothers to their children as a bedtime story.

But somehow, it made you feel vulnerable.

How many more people knew about this?

“But, sis. You’re kind of a dummy, though. How could you forget someone’s name when it’s the same as yours?”

Sooah questioned, tilting her head, but it eventually washed pon her that you weren’t looking all too well. You had your lips splayed into an evident frown, worry creasing your forehead, which she could not at all get. Were you okay?

“Did you finish reading all of it?”

You asked after a bout of silence. Sooah shook her head in response. “No, not yet,” she huffed. “My mom caught me making a mess out of her things and scolded me.”

That’s good, you thought. At least she didn’t make it to the end— that would only complicate things. After a second of deliberation, you figured that this would be the best move if you played your cards right.

“Sooah,” you started. “Do you think your mom will let me borrow that story?”

The next day, your classes were all condensed into the afternoon— a deliberate decision to allow yourself to recharge in bed for the entire first half of the day.

But right now it was eight in the morning, yet you were already busying yourself inside the campus.

No, you didn’t have a group meeting today, neither did you have any prior commitments needed to be accomplished here in school, but you figured after not having a single fucking blink of sleep last night thanks to Sooah’s revelations yesterday, you might as well head to school early to apply for the part-time job at the library. Only one problem— where was the library?

It was eight in the morning. You had been here since seven-thirty. Not a single bookshelf in sight. You opted to just give up and mold yourself into the floor because you couldn’t even ask anyone for directions because no one was there.

Well. Almost no one.

You had just passed by a single living soul earlier as you were trudging around the bottom floor like a zombie, but you completely missed him. Na Jaemin caught your disheveled figure marching through the hallways earlier, evidently lost, as he left the faculty office with a steaming hot cup of coffee in his hands. He immediately brightened upon seeing you— as if his bloodstream was directly charged with caffeine, but he didn’t come around to approaching you until now. He couldn’t get the timing.

Even now, as he discreetly tailed behind you without your knowledge, he didn’t know when was the appropriate time to give you a simple ‘hello’. He pressed his lips together, taking in a sharp breath through his nose, and decided screw it— you wouldn’t even be happy to see him no matter the timing.

He picked up his pace and sounded from right behind you.

“Morning, group leader.”

You stopped, swiveling your heels around, and he was met with your grimacing face.

As expected. He gave you a blinding smile.

“How are you?”

“My morning is shit, thank you very much,” you spat. “Even more now, after seeing you.”

Ouch.

Jaemin knew that you weren’t exactly fond of him, and he’d spent too many hours wondering why. Maybe you just disliked him without bearing much of a reason. Some people were like that, but he didn’t hold it against you. He still pressed on with a smile.

And it irritated you.

(You believed that it was irritation, or made yourself believe. Yeah, let’s go with irritation.)

“Now, what do you want?” you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one leg as you looked at him with exasperation. “You’re definitely not here to ask me about our assignment, right? I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I might as well say it to your face for your own good.”

You roughly shoved a finger to his chest, mustering up not a glare— but a plain look of disinterest.

“I don’t like you.”

Jaemin simply looked at you.

“You don’t like me.”

“No matter what you try to do, that won’t ever—wait, what? What the fuck?” you had to double take, expression suddenly morphing into a comical confusion, which Jaemin found cute, but of course he couldn’t say that out loud. He settled with the same smile as earlier, which you found a little more irritating as much as it was conflicting this time around. Within a second of silence, you felt heat slowly rising and you felt it slowly getting to your head. “You’re just gonna take that...as that?”

He let out a hum, shrugging. “I can’t dictate how you feel, can I?”

You gawked at him.

“You’re not even gonna ask why? Not even gonna protest?”

“Do you want me to?” he leaned forward, face a little closer to yours, smile a little more irritating than before, the heat growing a little more prominent than ever, your grasp on your consciousness becoming a little more hard to hold than earlier. You felt yourself getting caught in a stammer. “I would, if you want me to.”

Fuck this shit and fuck it completely.

“Where are you going?”

“None of your business,” you stormed off before you could find yourself getting caught inside a heatwave, breathing out long, fervent breaths to calm yourself down, the dizzying heat slowly getting to your head making you woozy. It would be a bad idea to even turn around and look at him. “I’d appreciate it if you don't follow me.”

Jaemin frowned when he saw your back yet again. He felt like this was the only thing he’d seen from you— your back perpetually facing him without any hope of you even turning around to spare him a quick glance, but he didn’t want to go against your wishes. He wasn’t planning on following you. But when you suddenly collapse on the floor a few feet away from him—

Thud.

—what else was he supposed to do?

(“Your Highness.”

It was without question that he’d answer your call sparing not even a second to waste with those gentle eyes of his, and this time was no different. The only difference being the quirk of his lips— pursed, pouting. He stepped away from the bush of azaleas, and stepped closer to you.

“I thought I told you not to call me that anymore,” he huffed, languidly dropping beside you on the stone bench, taking your hands into his with an earnest glimmer. “Say it. I want to hear you. Please?”

It was impolite to laugh at the prince— a punishable crime by itself. You were fortunate that he liked you enough.

“Your Highness,” you hummed. His shoulders drooped down, visibly dampening, but he shook his head with a newfound resolve and instead lended all of his attention to you, instead. “It is without saying that the very breath you take is incomparable to any person on this land—”

Your gaze darted upwards, looking at him.

“—but why do you choose to come see me everyday in the garden? Even when I am not around?”

He was still for a moment, fazed and the littlest bit taken aback, but not a second too long for you to spare any worry. A newfound smile playing on his lips, he lifted up your hands that he was holding, pressing a tender kiss on your knuckles.

“Why does the sun rise in the east and set in the west every single day?”

He looked at you, continuing.

“Just because it was made that way.”)

“Daegang.”

The whisper that you sounded in your state of unconsciousness caught Jaemin’s ears as he carried you to a vacant room inside the campus hospital. He looked down at you, your voice as clear as day despite the hoarseness of it, peeling himself away from your closed eyes, lashes fluttering above your cheeks before he could stumble over his own feet.

When he gently dropped you on to the bed, the mattress sinking underneath your weight, his windpipes nearly closed, a choking noise escaping the moment he felt you tug him down by the sleeve of his shirt, but he maintained his composure. He dropped your sling bag onto the bedside table, taking notice on the colorful piece of paper peeking out of the bag’s zipper mouth, a huff of a smile when he closed it up. Even you can be a little disordered, sometimes, he wondered in amusement as he gazed down on you.

Jaemin let out a huff of breath, dropping down the chair placed beside your bed, and he pulled out his phone to send a few messages here and there. An hour passed. He noticed you stirring underneath the sheets.

“Ah, you’re awake!”

Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t. You couldn’t tell if the blurred out silhouette of the face you have grown to both hate and love was a mere figment of your memories, or if he was actually real. There was the temptation brought about by your disorientation— to stretch your arm out to his face just to make sure, but you were lucky that your flimsy consciousness came at just the right time before you were to do anything regretful.

“Ugh.”

“You’ve been out for over an hour. Maybe you should just skip your remaining classes today,” at that point you were sure he was real. Na Jaemin had worry laced all over his voice, expression, and posture. It wasn’t a sight welcome to your peace of mind when you had just woken up after passing the fuck out. “What happened? Did you not get enough sleep? Did you skip breakfast? I asked Jeno to buy some food just in case you wake up and I’m not here, but you were unconscious for longer than I expected.”

“I’m fine, I’ll just—”

A regretful action. You tried to stand up, but all that happened was you falling pathetically back onto the bed.

“...”

“Don’t push yourself, Y/N,” Jaemin sighed, tucking you back in and placing a hand on your forehead, and by god you could hear the alarm bells ringing in your ears. “I checked earlier. It doesn’t seem like you have a fever. Oh? You’re starting to heat up, maybe you actually do—”

“I don’t!”

Was it possible to voluntarily pass out?

You threw the blanket over your head.

It was fortunate that he didn’t decide to press on, and instead he just left you alone underneath your makeshift tent to calm the sudden blazing of your face. Did he know that you were embarrassed? Oh god, did he know that it was because of him? Not that it was, of course, but it wasn’t unlikely for him to assume that he was the cause of your sudden temperature rise. It would be much better for him to believe that you did have a fever. Fuck, you should have just told him that you were sick.

“Knock knock,” outside of your blanket shield, you felt something lightly pressed at the side of your head, prompting you to peek outside, just enough for your eyes to be exposed. When you turned around, you were met by a box of Orion Choco Pie, just one of the few snacks that he had brought for you. “Here, have this. Eat.”

You blankly stared at the red box.

“What are you waiting for?”

“Leave it. I’ll eat once you leave.”

“No can do, missy,” Jaemin clicked his tongue, and without your consent, grabbed your nearest hand and opened it into a palm, placing the far too large box on top of it. “I have to make sure that you actually finish it.”

He was resilient.

Much like someone else, you grumbled, opening the packaging and stealing one of the cakes nestled inside. He had a satisfied smile on his face— almost like a proud parent watching his four year old daughter writing her name for the first time. You wanted to throw the damned snack to his face, but voted against the act and took a bite from it instead. “Fine. But for your information, I might have passed out because I barely got any sleep last night, so stop wasting your worries.”

“That doesn’t make things any better,” he said. “How am I supposed to stop worrying after hearing that? You should take care of yourself, Y/N.”

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“I’m not buying it. I have to make sure that you’re getting enough sleep every day.”

“What the fuck? Do you think you’re my mom, or something?”

“No, what the hell? Don’t make things weird,” He grimaced, looking at you in disbelief. Holy fuck. You nearly broke out into a fit, if you were being honest. Na Jaemin who was usually all smiley and kind was looking at you with an expression that you were sure his facial muscles didn’t even have the knowledge to conjure. His next words were nothing more than a low grumble. “How can she think I want to be her mom when I like her? Jeez.”

The choco pie that you’d been eating threatened to climb back up your throat.

“Wh— What the fuck?”

“What?” Jaemin replied naively. “One more time? Should I repeat it? Y/N, I like—”

“Okay, okay, I got it the first time, please—!”

Dear lord, he was going to be the death of you. You took in a long, sharp, painful breath.

“I get it.”

Jaemin looked at you with a small smile. He didn’t seem like he was going to continue teasing, so you quickly scared down the remaining chocolate snake inside the box so that you could slip away from him as soon as possible. That wasn’t the best idea, though, because the choco pie almost ended up going down the wrong throat and the guy was sure to freak out over it. Luckily you managed to get away with forcing it down and having Jaemin only looking at you with a minimal amount of concern.

It was time to get the fuck out of here.

“Thank you for the food, Jaemin, but I need to get going,” he didn’t even get the chance to say anything, but you were already on your feet, ready to set out to the door. You looked back at his frozen stature before reaching out for the door handle. “I’ll pay you back some other time.”

You bowed politely. Jaemin had only gotten back to his senses once he’d realized that he couldn’t see your face anymore, only the back of your head— a sight that he’s used to seeing, a reminder of where he stood. He scrambled to his feet and took off after you.

“Wait, you should drink water first! And take these with you! Y/N—”

Shit. He didn’t want you to leave yet. Not when he’s finally had a proper conversation with you. The two of you were already out in the hallway, the glimpse of light from the heavily clouded sky leaking through the windows and coloring the white walls and floor with an out of place brightness and at one point the light stuck on you. It was difficult to match your pace— staying not too far behind, not right beside you, never ahead of you. He swallowed.

Jaemin felt bad about pulling this, but he couldn’t think of any other way to make you stay.

“Daegang.”

You froze on the spot.

There was a heavy weight anchoring Jaemin’s conscience, falling even heavier as you slowly turned around to face him. It fell to the bottom of his stomach the moment he caught your expression.

“How—” you stammered. “Where did you get that name?”

He pressed his lips together tightly, a considerable distance between the both of you as he averted his eyes. “You muttered it earlier while I was carrying you.”

“C—carrying?”

How else would he have hauled you over to the campus hospital? But an obvious fact such as that was still enough to dumb your IQ a couple of notches down. You would have been fine if he didn’t mention it and leave you in your blissful ignorance, but he just had to drill the existence of that fact that you were in his fucking arms when you had sworn to be a piece of shit to him.

The heat was rising to your head again just like earlier.

“Ah.”

You heard Jaemin utter a sound from a few steps in front of you— a light grumble, you’d assumed, but you weren’t entirely sure— and it was at that moment that you’d realized how freaking awkward the distance between the both of you was. Were you social distancing?

His hollow sigh and evident pout threw all of those meager thoughts out the window.

“Is he the reason why I can’t get close to you?

What the hell does he mean?

“An ex you can’t over?”

You broke into a coughing fit. Jaemin instantly ran over to you in panic, patting your back to help appease the violent coughs, but in reality he wasn’t of any help at all because his palm was barely touching you. “Holy fuck”—cough—“oh god. I guess— I guess you can say that...?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled from behind you. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. It must be a sensitive topic.”

“If you knew that it was touchy then why bring it up in the first place,” you shot him a glare, looking back, but it was less threatening and more questioning. You couldn’t bring yourself to get mad at him at this point. He stood there in blatant guilt, his expression, stature, and demeanor without any intention of hiding it all. This was why you couldn’t get mad at him. Jaemin was transparent.

You weren’t sure if it was just his nature or if it had something to do with you.

You wouldn’t know what to do if it was the latter.

His lips finally parted after a moment of silence to answer you— even if you hadn’t expected an answer in the first place.

“I didn’t know how else to make you talk to me a little longer.”

You didn’t know what to do, at all.

Jaemin’s cheeks were stained with a shade of pink and fuck— you could see in his eyes that were looking at you, trying not to look at you, that he was bearing all the sleeves of his heart to you without an ounce of regret, but a euphemism of the bright red color that he was trying to hide.

God.

Why did you have to meet him in this life?

“Why?” you voiced, quiet. “Why do you like me so much? You don’t even know me that well, and I’m not even in any way nice to you.”

He didn’t answer.

“So, why?”

For a moment, Jaemin kept quiet, as if waiting for the pink to fade from his cheeks before doing anything, but it never did. Even when his lips stretched into a closed smile, his eyes crinkling and showing the stars that weren’t in the sky, he was still tinged with that soft, powdery color.

He didn’t wait. He didn’t wait for you to speak when he left— when he left right after saying two words that stretched inside your mind until the sun set in the west and the skies turned pink.

“Just because.”

TAGLIST. @danishmiilk @wownajaemin @kkakkdugi @jccv @bat-shark-repellant @kiri-ah @huanginjoon @sehunniepot @lvingjaem @hiddenzen @lanadreamie @w0nni3wrld @dnyls @doderyscoffee @seungstarss @patchi-chi @marklexleaf @thorscrown @mieohmy @lvoejimin @viastro @dejvns @junglewoos @pewpewpwe00 @unknown5tar @chezzontop @leejunini @lixseu @yunoyeol @42hyuck @keemburley @sungchannel @charm-art @eyyyyyyyow @nshitae @lolibaaae @colpen @juyeo-eon @deliciouslyyellow @nct-writers @czennienet @neowritingsnet @kpopscape

#NCT-WRITERS #cznnet #neowritingsnet #kpopscape #nct x reader #na jaemin x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream scenarios #na jaemin scenarios #jaemin x reader #jaemin scenarios #nct angst #nct fluff #na jaemin fluff #na jaemin angst #nct dream fluff #fic: us again

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pixielix · 4 years ago

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୭̥⋆*｡ royal christmas!au felix

pairing: prince!felix + gn journalist!reader genre: fluff, slight enemies-to-lovers word count: 1.7k warnings: none ― @districtninewriters’ winter fic exchange for the lovely @freckledberries

a/n: hey jules :] i’m so happy i could write this for u. ur someone who’s been so sweet to me since the very start, i’m so grateful for u !! i hope u have a merry christmas n happy holidays <3 love, angie

it’s infuriating that the prince still looks as good as he does in the world’s ugliest christmas sweater

he meanders through a crowd of thousands carrying a subtle air of grace that catches everyone’s eye and the kind of exuberant warmth that holds their attention

it feels like every movement he makes is filled with an intention to charm

one example is his habit of pushing back his hair after he bows

fingers weaving back through strands of strawberry blonde that gently frame his freckled cheeks

even you can’t deny he’s almost enchanting to watch

but it doesn’t make it any less excruciating that you’re being paid a mediocre wage to watch him smile and shake hands for hours on end

you don’t hate the prince, or anyone from the royal family really, but you hoped that your first assignment as a real journalist would be something that you’re actually passionate about

and unlike everyone else in the country, you really couldn’t care less about the royals

the feeling’s somewhat mutual

it’s a well-known fact that the royals are ‘indifferent’ to journalists

they say if the king had his way, he’d have banned every news outlet in the country years ago

maybe that’s why felix’s eyes shift to the opposite direction whenever he sees someone with a camera and a bright red press lanyard

so naturally, when you catch him trying to escape his own guards and make an early escape from the winter parade, his first instinct is to put on a charming smile and try to slither his way out of the situation

“your highness?” you find him straddling a wooden fence at the back of the park just as you’re stepping away from the crowded parade to get some air

his lips stretch into a bashful grin, avoiding your eyes as he swings one leg back over the fence and lands on both feet in front of you

“hey uh.. how did you know it was me?”

“the sweater” you point a finger at the the tinsel-covered, burgundy fabric still visible under the hem of his hoodie, unintentionally grimacing at the sight of it

“oh… is it that bad?”

“to be honest, it’s the ugliest thing i’ve ever seen. uh- no offense-” you blurt out, eyebrows knit together apologetically as soon as you realise you just insulted the prince

“none taken” he breathes a soft chuckle, “thank you for your honesty”

you both stand there in a stalemate for a few seconds, feet shuffling awkwardly in the snow as you carefully consider what comes next

felix’s eyes grow increasingly troubled as he realises how screwed he is if you rat him out to the guards, or worse, to the media

as desperate as he was to get away from the crowds and have the day to himself, ‘runaway prince’ wouldn’t be a good look

meanwhile, you have the thrilling realisation that if the prince were to somehow slip away, there’d be no need for you to stick around

sure you’d come back to the boss empty-handed, but at least you could save him and yourself from many more brain-numbing hours of smiling and shaking hands

“go.”

“what?”

“i won’t tell anyone, i promise” you assure him

“really? why should i trust you?” felix quirks his brow in suspicion as he leans back against the fence with arms crossed over his chest

“cause i want to get out of here just as badly as you do”

both of your heads whip around at the sound of footsteps approaching

“go.” you repeat firmly in a hushed tone

before he can argue, a group of his guards falls into view

“your highness, please, come back! just one more question!” you yell, but in the complete opposite direction of the park, diverting their attention and giving felix enough time to jump the fence and hide in the bushes

he peeks out and you turn back towards him with a relieved smile

“merry christmas” you mouth

all he can do is return the smile, watching speechlessly as you turn and walk away

the next time you’re assigned coverage of the prince’s activities is at the annual christmas eve performance of the nutcracker

once again, you find yourself watching from a distance as the prince captivates the crowd

taking the time to greet each of the young performers dressed as snowflakes and dewdrops with an enthusiastic high five

the lights dim as the performance starts and you use it as your chance to take a break from the noise

it doesn’t take long for you to notice a familiar young man in a hoodie walking slowly behind you down the empty corridor

“i’m supposed to be the one following you, you know”

“sorry i didn’t mean to- well i did but i-” felix stutters, frozen in place as you turn towards him

“i’m kidding. can i help you?” you smile with your head tilted and your hand on your hip

he scratches his neck, scrambling to remember the reason why he’d been looking for you in the first place

“um- oh! i uh- i didn’t get to thank you last time”

“for what?”

“helping me escape the parade”

“oh”, you smile and felix can swear he feels his heart start to tremble, “it’s no big deal”

“no really, you saved me, thank you” he bows deeply, only realising how overly courtly he’s being when he catches you stifling a laugh

“sorry” he blushes, “habit.”

without missing a beat, he threads his fingers back through soft tresses of blonde hair and you watch them fall perfectly over his handsome features

he’s even more enchanting up close

a few seconds pass as you both ponder the absurdity of a friendship between a prince and a journalist

but felix breaks the silence with the exact suggestion that you’ve been waiting for

“i’ve seen this performance of the nutcracker about twenty times before so i wasn’t really thinking of sticking around. did you want to…?”

“absolutely” you nod firmly and his eyes light up like stars

you tug the press lanyard from your neck as he holds open the exit door for you

“after you” he grins

“thank you, your highness-”

“felix.”

“thank you, felix”

as you get to know felix on a spontaneous trip to the outskirts of the city, it seems like everything you thought about him was wrong

the warmth and sweetness of his persona as the nation’s beloved ‘fairy prince’ is completely real

and despite only being the second-in-line, he still feels a strong sense of responsibility towards the country, especially to inspire and empower young people

seeing the way his face lights up in excitement when he gushes about all of the organisations that he’s taken up an ambassadorship with, you can’t help but start to admire him

he opens up to you about the struggles of growing up in the public eye and the media storms that almost tore his family apart

it’s no wonder that when felix invites you as his guest to the royal family’s christmas ball, it causes quite a stir

“no journalist has stepped foot inside the palace in the last fifty years, felix” you repeat, pacing frantically in your bedroom as he tries to calm you down over the phone

“you’re not coming as a journalist, you’re coming as my guest.”

“i can’t even dance!”

“i’ll teach you. you know i’ll look out for you, don’t you?”

“i know it’s just- are you sure about this? about me being there?”

“it has to be you.”

you can almost hear the smile in his voice, warm and reassuring

“okay… only if you’re sure”

“i’m sure. a hundred and one percent.”

the whole interior of the palace is more rustic and homely than you’d expected

and the music is lively, so are the laughs

his sisters are the most beautiful, sweetest girls you’ve ever met and your heart instantly feels warm in their presence

along with the hospitality of his parents (besides the occasional side-eye you get from the king)

in a conversation with one of his sisters, who speaks as fondly about felix as everyone else seems to, she mentions hearing about you

“my brother is an affectionate person, but i’ve never seen him gush about anyone as much as he has about you” she beams

flustered, you look over at him, only to find him looking straight back your way

leaning back against a wall with a glass in his hand, almost oblivious to the group of people that are circling him and instead fully focused on you

he hands his drink to one of his friends and proceeds to slowly walk away

but not before tilting his head and giving you a mischievous look that you immediately know the meaning of

let’s get out of here

“this is nothing like i imagined” you breathe shakily, following felix down the stairs as he leads you out of the ballroom

“what were you expecting?”

“chandeliers, statues, maybe a dragon” you laugh

“i wish” he sighs playfully as he nudges open a door to the outdoor courtyard

felix hurries a few steps ahead so that he can extend his hand to you as you step out onto the glacial footpath

but he ends up almost slipping over his own feet in the process, so you interlace arms and cling to each other for dear life

“ah-!” you stifle a squeal, instinctively tightening your grip on the sleeves of his flowy white dress shirt with every step you take

you glide around each other on the frosted concrete for a few seconds trying to regain your balance

“hey look, we’re sort of dancing” felix chuckles, twirling you under his arm with ease as you gently fall forwards and laugh against his chest

“i don’t think this counts”

“then let me teach you properly like i promised”

light snow continues to fall as you find your rhythm, guided by the soft echo of people clapping along to a lively acoustic beat inside the palace

“am i doing this right?” you ask softly as you watch your feet while carefully mirror his steps

“yeah” he whispers against your hair, warm breath tickling your ear, “you’re doing it perfectly”

the distant roaring of crowds indicates that it’s come to that part of the night where the royal family gives their christmas address to the public at the front of the palace

but felix just continues to hold you close, humming blissfully as if to drown out the noise

“i think the whole world’s waiting for you out there...”

he pulls away, just for a second, and looks at you with those doey brown eyes that seem to hold the expanse of the entire sky on the clearest winter night

“the world can wait”

m.list

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normal-thoughts-official · 4 years ago

Text

With a little help from your friends (the help is praise kink and the friend is your boyfriend)

Who would have thought that fucking your boyfriend senseless cures dysphoria.

Alternatively: being a dom is actually something that can be so gender,

Fandom: It Lives (Visual Novels)

Pairing: Andy Kang/Tom Sato

Additional tags: let's see, mild mentions of transphobic and racist comments, Comfort Sex, the filthiest comfort sex uve ever seen but WHATEVER, dom andy kang, sub tom sato, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Dom/sub Play, Collars, Praise Kink, basically someone says transphobic shit and then tom rides him and talks about how wonderful andy is, except tom has also been in denial for a few days and he's super horny, and andy gets in domspace and everything is great and nothing hurts, Fluff and Smut, Humor, cuz u know these two are incapable of taking anything too seriously, Established Relationship, oh they're both in college and they go to the same college cuz i said so, set after the events of it lives beneath, that's it I think, trans author if that matters to you

Read it on Ao3

Andy isn't having a great day. It's not a terrible, clawing-at-his-chest-trying-to-deal-with-dysphoria kind of day, but he's been trying out this "not comparing everything to the worst possible scenario" thing his therapist has been talking about, so still, not a great day.

The thing is, he thought college would be easier. And it is, in a lot of ways. For starters, there is no evil monster spectre trying to kill him, which gives college at least 5 points over high school. And his uni has a pretty solid queer club, so he knows other trans people there. Some of them are even non-white. Some of them he even actually, truly likes. And most of the time, he feels like he has a place to turn to, and people to support him. He's not alone. He has people who get him. And that makes all the difference.

But basketball is still a nightmare, and his knee still hurts when it's cold, and winter is officially starting now.

People still hesitate to pass the ball to him, and it's frustrating, because Andy fought so hard to earn his old team's trust and now he's back at square zero. And well, Andy has been gaining this team's trust, because he's good, goddamn it, and his team owes at least the last three victories to him. He's not hesitant to say that, especially because otherwise no one will. And he can see that they look at him differently now - nod at him in the hallways, at least, talk to him in the locker room, pass him the fucking ball if his position is very, very open.

But if he weren't trans and Asian, he wouldn't have had to work so hard to get all of that - or well, just that, really. He has a full sports scholarship despite the fact that he had a broken leg, had to retake his last year of high school, and doesn't even have the body type for basketball. If he weren't Asian, if he weren't trans, his team would have assumed his greatness from day one. Instead, he has to show it to them time and time again only to get them to reluctantly admit maybe he's not bad. No one calls him "triple threat" anymore, but he still has to work three times harder than anyone else, and it's frustrating.

And usually Andy can deal with it, but right now his knee hurts, and he can't afford that because he'll lose everything he's worked for if his teammates know that his fucking knee hurts. So, he braved training and then he got the fuck out of there without even changing so no one would see him wince. Which means he's still in basketball shorts, which are short, in the cold, which means his leg hurts more.

At times like these, he's thankful he never got the chance to go through with his promise to break his other leg kicking Noah's ass. Because he would have, and then both his legs would be hurting right now, and two legs that hurt every time it's cold is just too many legs.

No comparing to the worst possible scenario, he tells himself. Therapy is so hard. If he had known there would be homework, he would have thought twice about going.

And that's, apparently, the cue for his phone to go off. Andy smiles, knowing who it is even before he opens the message, because only one person messages him during class, and it's the only person he wants to hear from right now.

Tom <3 sent you a message

Grinning like a fool, he opens it.

Tom <3: dude, im horny af rn. the fuck

Finally, good news, Andy thinks, smiling. Then he remembers why Tom is so horny, and suddenly this day is great, actually.

He quickly types a reply.

You: who wouldve thought that 3 days of denial would make this happen

Tom <3: ill have u kno i was very good at holding it together before today

You: yeah, dw. soon u wont have to hold it anymore ;)

Tom <3: that flirt was terrible, dude

You: said the guy whos calling me dude for the second time in this conversation

Tom <3: what else should i call u? 😩

Andy thinks for a second. Tom and him do longer-term denial every once in a while, but they aren't in a 24/7 relationship. Does Andy really want to go there right now? Yes. Well, that was fast. Okay then.

You: how about "sir"

Tom's reply comes fast as lightning.

Tom <3: Yes, Sir.

Andy smirks at himself.

You: uve been hoping that id say that, havent u?

Tom types for just a little longer this time.

Tom <3: Yes, Sir.

----

Many things are wrong with the world, and Andy doesn't mean to make light of the other things, but the fact that Andy can't simply go and fuck his boyfriend whenever he wants is definitely one of them. It should be, like, financial compensation or something. We're so sorry the school environment is transphobic, here, have a free sex pass. Sounds fair to him. But instead, he still has two hours of classes to go through, and Andy is a better guy than he wishes he was, so he tells Tom to pay attention to class instead of sexting him, because he doesn't want Tom to struggle even more with his course when he had already had to leave it once. God damn true love or whatever.

The point is, by the time classes are finally over, his day is back to not being that great; he's tired, and his leg hurts. He gets to their car after Tom does, and Tom takes one look at him, and says, "I'm driving".

Andy crosses his arms. "Why?"

"Because your leg hurts," Tom answers, rolling his eyes and taking Andy's bag from him and putting it in the trunk.

Andy looks down at his legs. He wasn't limping. There aren't any bruises. How the hell-

"It's cold and you're in shorts. I'm not an idiot, dude."

Right. Yeah. Right. Of course. Tom knows. It's… It's alright.

"Bad day at training?" Tom asks, slowly, sympathetically, and Andy feels himself settle in his skin a little bit.

"The usual," he answers, getting inside, and, as always, Tom gets the hint.

---

Their uni's dorms are gender-segregated because these guys have still not gotten the memo that people of the same gender fuck; and Andy wasn't willing to deal with cis college guys' bullshit, much less cis college girls' bullshit; and the uni wouldn't let him simply pick Tom as his roommate. So, they rented out a beat up apartment right next to it instead. It took a little longer to get there, but it wasn't a lot longer, and well, it was worth it.

Tom gets inside, still carrying Andy's bag because he's transphobic and unfair and had taken it and bolted up running so Andy wouldn't have a chance to argue with him. And Andy can't run after him with his leg hurting, which kind of proves Tom's point that he should carry Andy's bag. All in all, Tom is the worst, and he turns up the heat as soon as he gets inside and sits Andy down on the bed, kneeling in front of him to take a look at Andy's knee.

He's silent for a while, massaging his knee until Andy sighs and throws his head back, before Tom plants a little kiss on his knee and looks up at him. Andy's knee always stops hurting when Tom kisses it better. It's a little embarrassing, if Andy is being honest, but still- nice. Really nice.

They stay for a little longer like this, Tom humming and massaging his knee and Andy not meeting his eyes, until the question inevitably comes.

"What happened?" Tom asks, not letting up with the smooth movements of his hands, his eyes big and sincere with worry.

"Nothing. Just the cold. You know how my knee gets."

"I meant, for you to leave practice without putting some warmer clothes on."

Andy looks away. "It was nothing."

"Dude, are you expecting me to go, 'okay, yeah, that totally makes sense and I believe you', or…?"

Andy laughs, despite himself, and throws his good leg up in an almost-kick to pretend he's retaliating. "Don't be an ass."

"I'm not. Come on, Andy. You know you can tell me."

"It's nothing, it's just- Kyle-"

"Oh boy."

Andy laughs. "Yeah." But then he grows serious, "the thing is, he doesn't mean any harm, you know? I know he's not saying it to hurt me, and so that just means that, like... that it's true."

Tom's hands stop their movements, rubbing soothing circles around his knee instead. "What did he say?"

Andy doesn't look at him. "He asked me why I didn't stay on the women's team. Said that I could have an advantage, cuz Asian people are androgynous anyway, so no one would notice that I was taking hormones."

Tom just stares at him in shock for a moment.

"And I was like, 'dude, I've been on T for three years, I'm pretty sure they would notice the changes'. And he was like, 'yeah, but you still look like a lot of Asian girls with short hair, you could write it off if you wanted', and I just…" He trails off.

Tom waits in silence for a second, seeing if Andy finds his words, before asking, "Is Kyle, like, okay?"

Andy scoffs. "I didn't try and fight him, if that's what you're asking."

"No, I mean, does this dude have a screw loose or something?"

"He's very bad at figuring out what is or isn't offensive, yeah, but it's not like he really cares, he just won't go out of his way to antagonize me."

"No, I just- Andy, even when you were a little kid with huge pigtails, anyone would have to be crazy to see you as a girl."

Andy bites the inside of his lip. "You're just saying that."

"I'm not. It's just wrong, man. It was so obvious that it was wrong. Anyone could tell. There's nothing about you that says 'girl' to anyone who's looking."

Andy sighs, finally risking looking at Tom's eyes. There's overwhelming sincerity there, and Andy instinctively looks away. "I guess. Maybe. I don't know. It just got me thinking... Maybe T didn't change anything. Maybe I look exactly the same, maybe it was just hopeful thinking that had me thinking it would change anything, maybe it's just- pointless to even try-"

"No, no, come on," Tom says, and the interruption is so sudden it makes Andy look at him again, just in time to see Tom shaking his head vigorously. "There's no way you believe that. What about this bad boy over here?" He smiles, reaching out softly to caress Andy's neck. "You have more of an Adam's Apple than me, dude. And we both know you don't need T to be a guy, but thinking it made no difference is just crazy and you know it. What about those dry pecs? These broad shoulders of yours? Your voice, I mean, come on. You even smell different, man. How can it be pointless, if even your scent is different?"

Andy looks to the side again, but he can feel himself smile. "Well, when you put it like that..."

Tom gets up, but stays close, putting his hand on Andy's cheek, slowly, as if testing the waters, before turning him slightly to look at him. "Andy. Kyle is an idiot and a transphobic racist who's too damn lazy to realize how fucked up he is. And you shouldn't have to deal with that, and I'm sorry, and I will set him on fire."

Andy laughs. "You can't keep threatening to set every shitty teammate I have on fire."

"I can, because it keeps making you laugh," Tom says, smiling. Well. Andy can't argue with that. "My point is, you wouldn't listen to a word this dude says if it were about anyone else, so don't listen to him when he talks about you, okay? T or no T, you're no girl, and you don't look like a girl, and regardless of whether or not Kyle's dumb ass noticed it, your transition has been doing you good. Remember when your voice started to crack and get all weird? I've never seen anyone be that happy about it."

Andy laughs. "It was pretty awful."

"No, it was great, 'cause you loved it. Do you want me to pull out the 'before' pictures we took in case this happened? Look at yourself, dude. You fit so much better in your own skin, you know? And like, you've always been gorgeous, but-"

"Come here," Andy interrupts, pulling him down because Tom is standing and Andy is sitting and Andy is already height-challenged. And Tom goes willingly, carefully straddling Andy's lap and meeting him in a kiss. Finally, Andy thinks.

Tom kisses him softly, slowly, one hand resting on the back of Andy's head and the other draped lazily over his shoulder, as he usually does, all gentle and a little hesitant, and Andy is having none of that. So he grabs Tom's hair and deepens the kiss, bringing him closer until their chests are flushed together and he can feel Tom's hips mindlessly making little circles against Andy's belly.

They separate - or well, stop kissing, really, because Tom is still as close to Andy as physically possible, and Andy feels about ready to shoot anyone who tries to push him further away. Tom's a little breathless, and his hips are still making these almost imperceptible movements against Andy, and Andy realizes that he's still grabbing Tom's hair and that he's a little breathless, too.

Tom looks down at him for a second, as if debating something with himself, before saying, "and like, not to be horny during a serious moment, but since we're talking about the effects of T... Andy. Andy. Your clit. Fuck. It's so huge now, and it's got a visible head and you can fuck my face and everything, and I could sing it praises for a week and probably will if you don't stop me right now."

"Hmm, but I like it when you sing me praises," he smiles. "Keep going."

"God, I was hoping you'd say that. Do you have any idea how much I've been thinking about it today? I didn't hear a single word anyone said to me, all I could think about was you fucking my face, pulling my hair, making me worship you and beg to be allowed to suck you off, I wanna serve you like you're my God." Tom's hips start to jerk up, more visibly this time, shameless, and see, this is why Andy's been really, really liking this whole denial thing - Tom has only started to explore his subby side recently, a little ashamed of it to admit it to anyone, even himself. But when he's horny enough, he gets shameless and desperate about what he wants, and god, nothing is more beautiful than Tom when he asks for what he wants. He feels something growing inside of him, not sure if it's warmth or heat, but seeing Tom like that, wanting him, needing him, definitely makes him feel so much better.

"Yeah?" Andy asks, tracing a finger over Tom's shoulder, close to his neck, just to give him goosebumps.

"Fuck yes, I want it so bad, and you deserve it too, Andy… Sir. You're the best Sir I could ask for, I just want… Want you to use me, want you to cum on me, want to kiss you all over and worship you and pleasure you, you're so gorgeous..." He hides his face in Andy's shoulder for a bit, but his hips don't stop moving. He whines, "Andy..."

"Address me properly," Andy snaps, feeling the edges of worry clear from his mind and giving way to that wonderful feeling of clear-mindedness, of power, where nothing matters but his own pleasure. "And maybe I'll give you what you want, if you earn it."

Tom nods, hips full on thrusting now, and Andy snaps again. "Stay still."

And he does, immediately, without question, biting his lip and keeping his eyes shut with effort. Andy can feel his thighs clenching and spasming over his, trying to keep himself from moving, trying to be good. He hums in appreciation, but doesn't praise him for it, not yet.

"I'll get you ready," Andy explains, before reaching to Tom's hair, and starts to undo his bun, as slow as possible, just to watch him squirm. He gets so impatient when Andy undresses him, which is why Andy never misses a chance to drag it out.

He begins by removing Tom's jacket, sliding his hands slowly over his shoulders, then down his back, feeling the firm muscle there, digging his nails just a little bit so he can see Tom's eyes flutter in bliss. When the jacket falls to the floor, Andy begins circling the hem of his shirt, sliding until his hands are back on front, fingers just close enough to Tom's cock for him to feel Tom tense in his hands, so damn sensitive to his touch, so needy. God, he can't get enough of this, but he pretends that he doesn't notice, lets Tom try and keep himself together as Andy's hands slide over his belly, then chest, over the shirt, collarbone, wrapping and resting on Tom's throat just so he feels the threat of it, before Andy finally grabs the back of the shirt's collar and tugs, taking it off. Then he slides his hands back down, making sure to run a finger just over the sensitive spot where his pecs end, then lower, over his ribcage, belly, hips, next to the bruises where Andy had grabbed him the night before, then back to the middle, just over the bulge in his pants, and Tom finally breaks and jerks up slightly, letting out a little moan.

"Sir," he whines, "please, please, I-" Andy continues to circle the head of his cock with his finger, "please!"

"Patience," is all he says, before going back to his painfully light movements, imagining Tom's needy cock twitching under his fingers, imagining the effort Tom makes not to thrust up or keep begging for more, just because Andy told him not to. "You know how much I like playing with your pretty little cock. You said you wanted to serve me, didn't you?"

"Yes- yes, Sir."

He hums, noncommittally, not looking at him. "Good." He teases the tip of his clothed cock some more, enjoying the way his mind zeroes on that, the way he feels like he has all the power and the time in the world. Finally, he pats Tom's thigh once. "Get off, and take off the rest of your clothes. Get the lube and a condom."

Tom gets up, a little shaky, and does as instructed, while Andy reaches down to the drawer under the bed where he keeps his dick's spine and a few of their toys. He gets the spine, then adjusts his packer briefs so he can put it on - best purchase of his life, really, those briefs. So much easier to use than a regular strap-on and it makes the packer sit over his clit just right, making a little suction and pressure. Andy couldn't be happier that he was already wearing them.

Tom gets back with everything he asked right in time for Andy to finish making his dick hard, and goes on to put the condom on and cover Andy's cock in lube with the kind of attention that makes Andy hold his breath. Tom's so careful, yet eager, and adoring, about it. Andy feels like the hottest guy in the world.

Once he gets permission, Tom sits on his cock, slowly, getting adjusted to it - admittedly, Andy went a little overboard when he bought his first cock. Andy waits until Tom is fully seated, littering his neck with little kisses and praise for how well he's taking him, how pretty he looks, until Tom looks fully comfortable and ready to start complaining if Andy doesn't start fucking him in earnest soon. That's when Andy shows him the other item he pulled from the drawer - Tom's favorite collar.

Tom's reaction is instantaneous. He throws his head back, moving over Andy's cock as he lets out a breathless, almost choked moan; the hands he had resting on Andy's shoulders suddenly squeezing full force in his need.

"God, you're such a whore," Andy says, casually, and Tom nods, even as he flushes. The collar is just a simple black one, with a little hoop for the leash, but inside they had it engraved with the words Andy's whore, and it left visible marks that could be seen for a few hours after they took it off. It never failed to drive Tom crazy, so it always drove Andy crazy, too. "Stay still," he warns, and Tom nods, breathing heavily, gripping Andy's shoulder as tight as he can as he stays frozen in place. Andy slowly puts it around his neck, checking with his finger to make sure it's not too tight, and the second he clasps it in place, Tom's whole body relaxes, a content little sigh escaping his lips, his face slack and blissed out. He likes being owned, so much. Andy can't get enough of it. "Good?" he asks, just to make sure it's not too tight.

"Perfect," Tom answers, the words leaving him in a sigh. Andy then ties the leash to the headboard, making sure that they're just far enough from it that he'll be feeling its pull the whole time. Tom lets out a moan. "Thank you, Sir."

Andy smirks. "Now, here's what I want you to do," he says, "you're going to ride me, just like that, and you're not going to come until I tell you to. You're definitely not going to come before I do. If you come close, you'll have to tell me. I want to hear you scream, so make as much noise as you want. Do you understand?"

Tom nods again, almost dizzyingly quick. "Yes, Sir."

"Good, then get to it."

Tom doesn't need to be told twice. He starts riding him, slowly at first, trying to find the perfect angle for Andy - not himself, Andy notices, pleased. Once it's perfect, Andy orders, "faster, slut,” and Tom obeys, as always, working up speed as he tries to keep himself upright, feeling the tug of his leash with every movement, moaning the whole time. “Good boy,” Andy says, and Tom’s responding whine is high pitched, embarrassing, needy. He gets even faster then, starting to babble as he keeps on working, and Andy just stays casually in place, not having to do a single thing while Tom works to give him pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so perfect, did you know that?" Tom asks, quickly sliding down on Andy's cock, making sure he puts all this weight in the end so Andy's cock will press down against his clit just the way he likes, making sure to go as deep as possible, "I've been dreaming of your cock for days, god, Sir, nothing's better than this," he hides his face in Andy's shoulder, speeding up even more, thighs shaking with the effort, and Andy puts a fist in his hair and pulls, watching as Tom throws his head back and lets out a scream, working even faster on Andy's cock. "Sir!," he whines, "oh, thank you, thank you, feels so good, oh my god, please, I'm gonna-"

"No, you won't," Andy interrupts, "I'm not even close to coming yet. Keep working, slut."

"Y-yes, Sir," he whines, going faster, deeper, and Andy makes it harder for him, keeps pulling at his hair to expose his neck, litters kisses and bites on his exposed throat, grabs his thigh and squeezes hard enough to bruise so Tom remembers he's his, his whore, his toy.

"I love it when you get like this," Andy says, doing his best to keep his tone even, even as he's a little breathless from pleasure, from power, "I bet you want to come so bad, don't you? If I'd just give you the word, you'd be making a mess of yourself, coming on my cock right now-"

"Fuck! Yes, yes, Sir, please, I'm so close."

Andy smiles. "No."

Tom whines, so cute, adorable, and Andy is nice enough to leave a little kiss on his shoulder, grounding, calming him down. Before going right back to torturing him, "no, you don't get to come for a long time yet. I want you just like this, on edge, tasting it…" Andy grins. "Tell me how close you are, baby."

"I'm- I'm so close-"

Andy slaps him in the face. "You can do better than that."

"Fuck, I feel like I'm going to explode, I'm so close, I want it so bad, and you feel so good, God, you have no idea what you do to me, Sir, your cock is so perfect, it hurts, I need it- need to cum on your cock, Sir, please-"

"No."

Tom chokes on a moan, and starts to go even faster. He lets out a little whine, something Andy thinks was supposed to be a word, but doesn't come close.

"See," Andy says, "this is why I won't let you come. Look at you - every time I tell you no, you get so desperate, so obedient - it's what you want, isn't it? You want me to keep telling you no, you want to know your pleasure doesn't matter, that you're just here to serve me."

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes-"

"Good, then keep going. And beg all you want- I like telling you no, too."

Tom does. He begs, and he says thank you when Andy denies him, again and again and again. Thank you, Sir, thank you for using me, for putting me in my place, I'm yours, I'm yours. And he keeps on praising Andy, praising his cock, his body, the way he fucks him and uses him, no one else makes me feel like this, no one deserves to be worshipped and served like you, Sir, I want to make you feel good-... Until even the clear-minded state of domspace begins to crumble and Andy feels nothing but pleasure, and confidence, and power, and he cums to the sound of Tom praising him and begging, once, twice, three times, until his head is clear again and everything, even the need to chase his own pleasure, is gone, and he just feels perfect.

"Stop," he orders Tom, who's still babbling more and more incoherently, endless praise and worship, and Andy finds that he worships Tom right back. "I want you to get my cock as deep inside you as you can, and stay still. I'm going to play with your dick for a while, and when I tell you to, you can come. You did well today, baby."

Tom nods, suddenly struggling to use his words. "T-thank you, Sir," he says, already frozen in place, thighs clenching with the effort not to move and also shaking with all the effort he did before.

Andy coos. "Poor baby. You were so good to me today. Let me take care of you."

"You always- always do, Sir," Tom replies, and Andy smiles.

He gives Tom a long, slow handjob, making sure Tom stays still through it, enjoying the way his thighs shake on top of Andy's, the pressure of Tom sitting tight on his cock, the way his arms also shake with effort where they rest around Andy's neck; Tom's pretty, exposed throat all marked up around his collar, his breathless little whines as Andy makes sure to do it just the way he likes it, makes his cock turn red with need; watches Tom bite his lip, because when he has to keep still he becomes so quiet and needy, even as the little whines go through his lips… Until Andy finally says, "come for me, baby," and Tom screams through an orgasm that lasts almost a minute, hanging on to Andy as tightly as he can to keep himself anchored through the pleasure.

And then Andy holds him, and Tom holds him back, and they hold each other.

----

A while later, they've cleaned up Tom's cum so it doesn't get all sticky on Andy's chest, and Andy's finally taken off those damn briefs - they're great for sex, but get pretty tight when you wear them for a long time - and Andy holds Tom against his chest. He's humming, contently, and if anyone had told him at the beginning of the day that he'd be comfortable enough to have someone close to him while he's fully naked, he'd - well, probably assume they meant Tom, but still be skeptical.

"How do you feel?" Tom asks after a little while, finally opening up his eyes and saying hello to the world.

"That's supposed to be my line," Andy laughs.

"I feel great. Perfect. Next time, I wanna do it for longer. A week? Let's try a week. Or two weeks…?"

Andy laughs. "Let's not make too big of a leap yet."

"Fine. A week sounds good. Great. And now that we've established that denial is totally bomb for me, how are you feeling?"

"Honestly? I'm feeling great, too," Andy admits, playing with a little stray of Tom's hair, swirling it around his finger, "I think I needed that, a little bit. Who'd have thought that having you ride me and praise my cock cures dysphoria."

"Every trans top on every forum I've ever visited."

"Let me have my moment of realization," Andy mumbles, faux-annoyed. Tom just laughs, holding him closer.

"I'm just glad I could help," he says.

"Please tell me you didn't ride my cock just to help."

"Well, no, in case you hadn't noticed, I was horny as fuck. I just tried to, you know. Use that to give you a little push. Since you wanted to. Y'know. Also, it was all true. So..."

"Thanks, love," Andy says, earnestly. "I love you."

"I love you more."

They bicker about it, and Andy's smiling the rest of the day.

#it lives #tom sato #tomoichi sato #andy kang #tom x andy #andy x tom #it lives in the woods #ilitw #it lives beneath #ilb #it lives anthology #smut #i am back on my bullshit ig

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vaultgirl2077 · 4 years ago

Note

Hi I follow u on insta too! Don't take this the wrong way but it's important to inform u so u don't offend anyone further. Not sure if it's makeup or editing but u should never darken ur skin for cosplay even of your Freya! The art you have of her shows her as black. Its offensive to poc and is racist even if u didn't mean it in a bad way. U can take off dark makeup and don't experience negative effects of racism but poc don't get to, a person's skin isn't a costume. I hope u understand. 💞

Wow this message really surprised me and is a first!! But I understand that the intent and message behind this ask is good and the issue is a big problem in cosplay/media and is very important. Despite this being a misunderstanding and not being the case here, I appreciate what you're trying to do/say and i appreciate you ❤ - But I need to make something *VERY* clear from the off- ⭐I did/do not edit my skin to make it darker or wear makeup to create that effect/impression⭐ that is NEVER okay under any circumstances and I would never in my wildest dreams do such a thing.⭐ I am TOTALLY against any type of racial appropriation/white washing or black face and I'm actually kind of shocked that I'm being accused of it.

To start - you don't know my ethnic background, so I can see some confusion in my skin tone from just seeing the odd selfie that I post on IG... I probably look *super* white as I'm pale as fuck 90% of the time and in most lighting as... well...i dont get much sun/time outside and haven't for a few years tbh.

I'm actually of middle eastern descent and have olive toned skin - even if I look very pale in most of my photos (I'm an introvert and with my mental health - I dont really leave my house much, so most of my pictures are taken indoors with artificial lighting too) - my skin tone can still look darker sometimes, depending on various conditions: such as time of year (especially in summer when I don't wear much makeup and try to get a lot more time in nature)... when I take photos in different lighting...and also the colour of my hair/wig combined with these other factors. (which is the case with the one I think you're talking about as its the only cosplay I've done of her where my skin tone could possibly be perceived as darker!)

Also - I grew up in a household where my family are poc. My mother's side of the family have dark skin due to my grandfather's Yemeni and Sudanese background. So I understand and have experienced racism on a very personal level and know the effect one's culture and skin colour can have on the way the world treats them.

The only editing I do on any of my cosplay photos is upping the sharpness/clarity and altering saturation....which with the colour of the warm red hair against my skin, and the fact I do have my standard face makeup on (which i rarely do when I cosplay Freya in particular or for just regular selfies) maybe it gave you the wrong impression/assumption?

I sometimes change my eye color too if the cosplay calls for it, for obvious reasons... and in this particular one, I think I may have removed a fake freckle i didn't like too?? But the point is: never would I ever alter the colour of my skin and I've never been accused of such a thing before, so I don't really know how to properly respond as it never entered my mind as a possibility.

One thing I also want to note as a side thing - Freya is mixed race and that has always been the case - James is white and her mother Catherine was black. I try to make her medium skin tone reflective of that in every depiction I make of her.

Below is the cosplay in question that I posted that I think you're referring too...and below it are two other pictures from the same day (which was a few years ago now) which were done with an old phone camera and didn't have the saturation/clarity/sharpness edits I did on the original.

Same makeup. Same outfit. Same hair. Same day. Same photoshoot. The only difference is me moving to different rooms over the course of the day to find a lighting and pose combo I liked... and yes, the post processing alterations I made to the posted picture that I mentioned...which were applied to the whole photo not my skin...

As you can see in the shot with cooler natural lighting - my makeup is not trying to make my skin darker in any way.

I hope this very lengthy explanation cleared things up, anon ❤

Thank you for spreading awareness of a huge issue ❤

And I am sorry for the lengthy response. I just really don't want to potentially offend anyone with something I did not do and never would ever WANT to do either.

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misterbitches · 4 years ago

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I ship muren and li cheng bc i only saw it through gifs then i watched this episode cos i was like im only starting this show if they kiss im waiting and they did and it was nice and i got so anxious that i was about to fucking vomit. I really like them together. The top/bottom shit is dumb and i hope if they must mention it they all build a bridge and get over it so they can switch cos who gives a shit. I didnt realize how large they all are like most “tall” men on tv are lying. But bc that kid is so thin and tall and the other one (idk the stepbrother) is huge too. Li cheng is shorter than them both but more ~manly~ but still short so why doesnt he take a DICK UP HIS BUTT XD since that’s all that fucking matters and there’s only 2 genders and 2 eays to have sex lmao so nothing else otherwise ur screwed

Hd a terrible past couple of weeks personally and because i keep seeing my peopl eget murdered and things ripped from us ^_____^ anyway here’s Some libertatrian communist dumb bitch discoars so i’ll tag it:

keep in mind these are my opinions’”” when i engage in discourse. I am not the end all be all and I don’t need you to agree. There’s some shit I am non-negotiable on but thsi is just exchanging of information. Any authoratative tone I take on comes from my beliefs, my life, my experiences, and what I choose to cultivate as a person and an artist. I dont have control over your feelings, you do. If it hurts you then either tell me the issue and be PRECISE about it, understand that context matters which is why i type so much in engagement, and do not fucking lie or misconstrue my words. Do not call me western ever in your life either. I am a black-american. I have adhd and bc i am a black woman if ur automatically thinking im brolic i am accepting money in my paypal for ur wellbeing to get me to shut the fuck up.Thanks.

The stepbrothers storyline is stupid and lazy writing. I really want to counter people that say it’s written well and that it’s interesting because it isn’t. Even if it was illicit and fucked we can write a story out about this. Let’s rethink what they could have done shall we:

- become stepbrothers at about 16 and their parents mismanage the relationship and they fail in trying to get an integrated family together (this is what happened in the #iconic transit girls and that was fuckin’ weird but hey dude guess what we watched it and it was weird but not unethical and we know one is like 19 and the other is 21 and a girl so it’s like wow you avoided so much and handled their stepsister story very…….um lightly given the end lmao but it was there and people had AGENCY)

-OR you realize that freak is obsessed with him and then he realizes it and is like “bitch i swear to god” and in typical shtity trope BL fashion they can find a way from obsession, to loss and independence when you lose your obsession, to “love” if they choose

- have the fucked up shit but make it clear what the issues are and you literally cannot write your way out of it so do not try

But why can’t fucked up things be shown? Also this is realistic.

0. Well according to you but no one said that they can’t. So that’s on your interpretation of critique (that is, again, not bullying or harassment.) They can, i just gave plenty of scenarios in which it is affective and not just annoying to witness, trope-y, and frankly ridiculous and offensive. Sorry! They don’t do it well. You can come up with alternatives too. See #2 btw.

1. No it isn’t doing a good job of reflecting life because life has consequences. The exaggeration in drama doesn’t mean the arc shouldn’t be there. Almost always things that aren’t heavy with the message or meant to be sobering in a deep way are COMPELLING. The realism is the basis for art because we are human. This is not the way real humans act.

Someone said Tharn Type was mature and I had to laugh because no, no one acts that way and is “in love” if they act that way that means they fucking hate each other and they’re immature and frankly it’s just not that interesting for many of us to watch because the dramatization of the “realism” is fucking bonkers. That was such poor writing it is unbelievable and someone has the audacityt o say it’s how real adults act. Fucking murder me if I’m with someone for 7 years and we break up over a miscommunication and for some reason I am not as horny as my always horny boyfriend. The fuck? What kind of lives do you lead? Either you are not an adult or you are an adult who needs therapy.

I also hear the “realistic” argument but then people try and temper it with “but also it’s fiction.” What do you think fiction is? Why do you think filmmaking exists? Number one, it’s propaganda in the sense that you want others to buy into your presentation and see what you see. That means that the creators are telling people and influencing them WITH ART BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT IT IS about their feelings around a situation. That’s why it is imperative to be responsible as a filmmaker and artist and underline the deepness of creepiness if that’s what they want. If they want to relay that rape sometimes ok and psychos are crazy so they get boy (??!?!?!? BITCH?) then they achieved it with no innovative information. We know people get raped bc we are human beings and many of us live with that fear. You know, being the target demo and all. And bc BL loves that trope it’s rape fantasy peddled to young people and women. Just like shitty wattpad fics or NYT best sellers. Hooray, what now? Or are you trying to purport that this isn’t glorified fanfiction? Which it literally is

2. This is the issue with these shows. No one is saying that fucked up shit cannot be shown. There’s a film about a woman who is raped and she falls in love with her rapist (because he was masked but i think we find out later that she knows. Binoche is in it.) I have no desire for that film—i think it’s by a man and i extra dont care—but I hear it’s sort of powerful for many. I heard it was a good film. But the act itself is always eschewed and the conflict comes from how fucking ridiculous it is especially finding out that she knows. The power imbalance adn the possibility. They may not have handled it in a way I would have cared for but it was there.

There’s simply no imagination because these people do not care that much and aren’t great writers and filmmakers because they simply do not have to be. Sorry.

The industry doesn’t rely on the best they rely on efficiency (this is everywhere.) You can tell by the camera angles, the editing, the camera itself (idk if it is multicam but the flatness is typical soap flatness without the glowboxes to soften their faces.) Simple constant lighting. Now the surroundings are mostly beautiful. But even to some of the costumes. And those edits are abysmal, some of that camera work.

So with all that said even with the couple I extremely enjoy I see its (H4) faults. Add into that a lazily thrown together “shocking” love and if they are trying to get us to feel a type of way about its sexiness they fail. This is why movies like 50sog, 365 days, etc aren’t enjoyable to people because it’s fucking strange situations that they dont want to entangle or make enjoyable to viewers across the board. They know what people will take. It’s just that bitch what are we here for if even the sexiness isn’t there for ur stupid story.

At least with that teenager and 30 yr old man in MODC (which i do not love but i like them in theory if it wasnt totally repulsive to me and also if it was developed in a way that was good TO ME) they had their, er, “sex appeal” i talk about this as well the main couple in MODC to me, visually, was a miss. Not bc whatshisface was small and stuff but bc he was so sickly and they needed that to propel the story but it was just not appealing given how the story progressed. A missed opportunity in tying the two together besides making him look waif-y and sickly only to have the “did ur mom die in a car crash? No, cancer” type of move in not another teen movie. But the opposite. And not funny. Wayne tho????? GORL. Eggs. Cracked.

fandoms have a very warped sense of harrassment and discourse.

Most fandoms have harassers who are “protecting” the cast and crew who don’t need their protection (or maybe the crew does since they probably dont get paid well but why the fuck would anyone care about that lol) but very few have the people who have concerns or massive critique about the show are not going to be “bullying.”

If people are saying “if you like xyz, u suck” then sure it may suck for you to see but who fucking cares. Either talk to the person or don’t be friends with them. That is not bullying or harrassment. Things that are shitty get criticized. Fuck, things that aren’t shitty don’t. Get away from this idea of cancel culture and people misunderstanding the story. We have the ability to.

Think beyond your noses of personal preference. You don’t have to convince people of what you believe. Discussing it is good but critique is not bullying, harrassment, or hate. Neither is fucking roasting shit because even this shit I like (manner of death lets say) deserves it. Art is meant to be critiqued and if you dont fucking like the bullshit people make then say it. They know stupid stories like this are scandalous and they don’t give a shit in how to present them.

And guess what? You won’t like everybody. Many people can’t stand me i’m sure. Oh well. I mean frankly I don’t like that and I feel very unsettled when I don’t feel understood. That’s ok! I have to temper it. Sometimes calm myself down. I won’t get anything and everything I want. And you won’t like every opinion and sometimes it’s like “man am i a dummy?” But the part of growing up is fucking maanging that and beng honest about “bashing and harrassment” and “bullying” and growing up. Yuo can like what you want the “let people like what they want thing” is so fucking juvenile and THAT is not the real world. Which is probably why so many people feel that way, they dont want to live in the real world. Unfortunately, you do.

Think beyond our noses of personal preference and what we feel emotionally in conjunction with others. You don’t have to convince people of what you believe. And you can say things that you believe to be true but it doesn’t make them so or maybe it isn’t received that way to people. And many times we learn new things in the discussions “oh shit i didn’t see it that way” right? Discussing it is good but critique is not bullying, harrassment, or hate. Neither is fucking roasting shit because even this shit I like (manner of death lets say) deserves it. Art is meant to be critiqued and if you dont fucking like the bullshit people make then say it. They know stupid stories like this are scandalous and they don’t give a shit in how to present them. Usually the “opposition” in these situations aren’t the popular beliefs that permeate through society. Trust me lmao

Antiblackness

Antiblackness is a thing. It permeates everywhere. It permeates in this genre and it permeates in fandom. Get it the fuck together. Also do not conflate cultural relativism with being repsectful. They are not barbarians, they are smart human beings either making work or deciding to. We all have diff cultures but we have fucking sense in what is respectful and not. And if we don’t we fucking learn. You cannot excuse things and say “oh culture” when you have 0 idea of that culture or actual people who are radical etc and are fighting against it. Additionally the word westerner is an ignorant term when referring to people in the US or UK who are black. Because we are not. We extend sympathy to other groups and empathy since we know so there is no inherent power imbalance between a black viewer and their subject. Don’t suggest that because it’s wrong and ahistorical and contextless.

FIRST the fallacy of representation as freedom makes people fucking complacent, individualistic, and doesn’t let them think critically. Consumption and discourse around consumption is not helping material conditions of the marginalized communities in your home, the black ones who are ignored, those intersectionalized in these communities. Groups talk about art and what it means for them outside of just what we see and because we also don’t have access to a bunch of Thai reviews or what movements or going on we are less likely to know if we don’t FUCKING SEARCH for it. Because art is constant...which leads me to....

Representation is difficult. It matters and it doesn’t.

Tthese shows are not meant to overturn the LGBTQ+ community.

There are queer filmmakers and artists in these countries. Deep illustrious film careers or even TV that is moving and deliberate. We can even see it with the dude from “your name engraved” in their short series he was in beforehand. BL is no wa pejorative because it is simply not “qu**r” storytelling whatever that means. But know it has always existed everywhere and there are also out artists or radical artists in all these countries who do no respect mediums that are cash-grabs and poorly made.

ex: As much as “Like in the Movies” sort of isnt for me and is a bit hamfisted you can tell how much love goes into that. Love of the characters, acting, and message. Yes it’s cringey to see some of the lines (like very tbh subtlety wasnt exactly their strong suit) and yea naming them after lenin and marx is just 0ihgoaudgijposkagjihou BUT GUESS WHAT? THEY FUCKING DID IT. THEY TRIED. And class was a large component as well bc u cant fuckin ignore it. The show is aware of the machinations in its world as a show but also in the philippines and for a fuckin reason. And duatarte? Loooooooool so like yea not so sure bl makes him love his ppl but the show isnt trying to do that

It’s not a transgressive genre and it has no reason to be. No ethical anything under the way we live it’s just trying your fucking best to be. That’s it. They serve societal ills and capital’s purposes. Which is fine but it is not revolutionary.

These countries in SEA or even SA do not have as big budget for even mainstream dramas—though things are changing and that’s bc REVENUE like revenue from kpop is fucking huge for SK and again so much about that is bc of what happened in their history from japanese imperialism to WWII to the US—so for “queer” stuff it is sort of now important to make that an export and it sure is one. Not only globally or to the west but a lot of these places make their money within asia (duh!) outside of their countries. OBVIOUSLY. so BL is a way to output and gain money. The thing is, it doesnt seem to be put back into the industry at all. For people in all these countries to make works that aren’t for mainstream or wont reach as many people there’s a difference between trying and just shoving shit in your face and going here it’s gay you like it right? But dont antagonize the inherent patriarchal nature of BL.

Another thing: did you guys know thailand was never colonized? You should look it up. There’s little hints of things in ITSAY to represent french influence still. Isnt that fascinating? Find out why. It’s certainly interesting that the representation, though damaging and dubious many times and also incorrect like any media, is huge in asia and this isnt a commodity here (the US) exactly. A lot of that has to do with colonial ideas of gender of which I am sure. But listen………lmao

Sometimes people dont give a shit. And it very much shows. Here is the thing once again. GOOD TRANSGRESSIVE WORK exists.

Een within the capitalist Bs paradigm or you can see people trying (I can sort of applaud parts of lovely writer) also queer media has always existed everywhere the reason you don’t know about it is because it gets takena nd commodified into a mainstream product. We hvae little incentive, particularly if we are not fans of cinema or art in gen, to search fror others when the output is right here. Being dictated by others and the state and who will give you money. No longer an effort of a cast and crew who want to convey things. But google [any country] independent cinema, radical cinema, queer radical cinema, or even retrospectives on the cinema and rethinking what is queer and radical in film. What if we took that, diluted it, got rid of the creators who put themselves through all the work, ignroe al the nuances and do……………….two actors who are conventionally attractive with no chemistry making out.

It’s the same here lets say daniel kaluuya winning the oscar for the film about the BPP. I heard it was okay and not too offensive but it still isnt’ enough. It still isn’t like hwood isn’t trash, nnati black, misogynistic towards BW and women, and all that other shit. It was pushy but it can’t be enough where we are. Black KKKlansmen i think won an oscar, by circumstance i fuckin hate these award shows they mean nothing, and i like the film a lot but he has his misogynoir still resting in his films even if it is poignant. And it was a film that honestly wasn’t really made for black people. And should all art be a response to direct trauma or trying to make ourselves palatable when we’re just human?

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ and it’s importance (capitalism) but also sorta individual responsibility

Considering a lot of these actors are rich and then just dip that’s another problem. Mainstream isn’t what sustains marginalized art ever. It doesn’t change in the vast ways we think it does. What changes is the people of these groups pushing, fighting, forcing and then capitalism trying to make it work under capitalism. It will not. It cannot.

This is why artists and labels often don’t mix or you see people like Sonic Youth doing whatever they want and pissing off their label but making them give them money. Same with Nirvana. Vince Staples. The thing is they can fight and make good shit but what capitalism helps people….not care? They don’t respect the audience? We’re getting those returns on poor executed product placement, lighting, editing, framing, fucking acting. And you surewon’t see mixed black asians in these shows. WHY R U is the oNLY one i have seen it in and he just disappears (but that was pretty cool.) so who the fuck is this representing? And before you start: asian countries are not homogenous the way we believe them to be. There are marginalized communities outside of even mixed people that are harmed. So you can skrrt cause on that one: you’re wrong buddy. But it gives us the IDEA of a paradise which is what they NEED.With representation and visibility comes consequence and responsibility as artists. What it allows them to do is coast and not think complexly because why should they; it’s mostly the fantasies of some older woman who probably has money and much less interaction with the world. It’s bonkers. And what that allows even further is for them to say YOU ARE THE THING THAT YOU CONSUME and the THING THAT YOU CONSUME IS YOURS. It is not, it is not your identity, form a close bond but figure it the fuck out. Especially for adults who are hellbent on twisting their minds into pretzels and can’t acknowledge what’s just laziness in art and not giving a fucking shit. Truly.

There’s damage that has been done from Parasite as he was supported by CJE&M and the bullshit obsession america had and eveyrone’s poor interpretation of it if they are rich. BJH is a socialist and he is a filmmaker. He has made films that are outstanding and cost a lot of money. But now a fear for indie filmmakers is just not being able to raise that much or have that much attention. Getting funding that helps them instead of expecting the Next Big Thing that is a fad because capitalism is trash. Yes this funneling of money is absolutely harmful to us artists. Even buying in is strategic. Additionally, that film is probs one of the most radical films to have that wide release and accolade (unlike “Sorry to Bother You” which i have a lot of thoughts about. One being that asian exports are acceptable but black ones are not. This is an overall art critique and global media critique. Blackness is removed, not respected.) However, filmmaking isn’t green, it can’t be socialist, and it’s a lot of work. They used tons and tons and TONS of water to do a huge beautiful feat but we still know there is a cost. We have to figure that out because it shouldn’t be. It doesn’t go back into the crew’s pockets the way it should and the work becomes that of the director’s and actors solely. It’s fucking hard. We have to do our part but it doesn’t mean we are doing it perfectly. We just have to try to do better. So does BJH cos he needs to not be a misogynist but anyways i digress.

additionally and this is something some users fail to understand: people in the media sphere generally have fucking money. I went to film school that was international with super fucking rich kids. Taiwanese kids, kids from south asia, china, thailand. They had money. No not upper middle class money, not “rich” money, not some paltry 1m that’s chump change. Fucking money. Fucking RICH-RICH. MILLIONAIRES. BILLIONAIRES. WHICH IS DISGUSTING MIGHT I ADD. The domestic people didn’t have the money for school (in the UK) and i am in a massive amount of debt like every other black student that went there. You do not understand how much money is needed to survive so people who turn to these crew positions even casting etc need this fucking money usually. OKAY. A lot of the people that do well in these dumb shows or even on a larger scale HAVE MONEY. The reason these industries are small and struggling is because of lack of people and lack of resources to independent shit because oh gee it takes money to make things.

Why should I try? Well you don’t have to really if you have money or a name. Yet...

We can tell when like those Tik Tok shows or DCOMs dont give a shit (anymore.) You know how frustrated we get when content for young people is garbage? Well, see, BL is literally that under that system. Occasionally we will get something good now but there is virtually no need in any sector in the world at this point to truly figure out how to make it better and what to do to enhance artistic literacy, outreach, teaching people new things, getting people from these communities there and having true realistic says. Art and culture is IMPERATIVE TO WORLD LIBERATION but not when it is so stiffly trying to bend to capital’s idea of progressiveness. No. Neoliberalism. No.

That’s why in a way ITSAY is a huge feat; it takes from films etc and they clearly had money (the actors rae rich too which….lmaooooo j’aime pas) but it was a respected fucking script, acting was important, blocking, framing. There’s very little to critique as a visual medium for that because I understand what they are trying to do, their market is going to be mostly young girls, but they RESPECT THE FUCKING AUDIENCE. And guess what guys? You can make money from it!!!! WOAH! Since that may be the only goal which is disgusting and repulsive.

HOWEVER AND THIS IS WHAT IS SAD: itsay is an ex of a great show however knowing the actors backgrounds and the pseudo trouble it stirred when they weren’t supporting people protesting against the coup in the summer it really put a damper on my enjoyment. And this is how we can see that:

a) it’s honestly just a show and a good one but b) now what?

These kids (actors, who are like idk 19? 20?) are rich and not saying anything while countless actors, who were filming, did. Even tul who has $$$$ and the thing is the protesting against the coup legitimately attacks the rich. As it should. The protests going on were cries for help, against a dictatorship and fucking coup, asking people to get fucking help for covid, having kids be able to live. There’s a mini on VICE about this and it probably doesnt go too in depth but there’s a kid in there who talks about his friends getting into drugs and how he just wants to make music, have fun, skateboard. And it’s harrowing to see. This is a direct example of what these things do and don’t do. Yea we know a good show is here, we know growing up and slice of life, we know this is a bit of escapism and idealism but the idealism is reflected in the way these actors also choose to live their lives. So what progress? To who? For who? How is this helping me? What purpose does it serve? I say ITSAY serves its purpose as a piece and a glimpse into possibility of growing up but i do not say it antagonizes a broader issue that needs to be relevant in some sense but simply is not. It’s very singleminded and, well, it’s sort of like “besides my sexuality, what do i have to worry about?” But for real humans like....a lot. I do not respect their decision at all.

Why can’t we do our jobs and make something decent and respect our audience? No time, gotta make that sweet sweet sweet cash baybee. Look how progressive we are! Don’t look at history and material conditions. Thanks in advance, management.

History 4 does not have that respect. Many of these shows do not. Sometimes we hit good, sometimes we don’t. But in the end we cannot settle. And I won’t. If I am critiquing something I will not be shy and if I am meant to enjoy something as escapism then these shows NEED to highlight that and it’s rare sometimes (the best twins is a good reminder like that show is bad but man do i Brain Empty when i turn it on and i like that and there’s not much in it that makes me want to kill myself from annoyance but there are transphobic jokes i dont love however the whole show is a comedy about this dude’s crazy homophobic sister and she is constantly positioned as wrong and they talk about the aforementioned trans women as the actor was in drag. Interesting that they can manage that, huh?)

Oh btw.....taiwan has a very complicated history but ignore all the bad stuff it’s good now you can kinda sorta get married and stuff. KMT? You know how i learned that? I care about human beings and read about it lmao. I am not Taiwanese and look at that. So now I have historical and DIALECTICAL~**~*~****~*~*~ context so i can judge it as an artist, a black woman from america, and from the knowledge i have to pick up on their history to see if this fits into a broader picture besides the micro-one of sexuality on an individualized level. And this is kinda where it comes full circle: these shows are not you, you are not them, they do not exist in a vacuum because nothing does. The failure to critique now means continuing on as it has and it will still do so. History and time are not linear in the sense we think it is. Someitmes things are better, sometimes things feel more austere. We are not living under liberation though and these shows are not going to do so. So they are not US nor are they for a nebulous “us” of which the groups are all fractured and have diff opinions anyway (my opinion as a black american is going to vary from an asian woman’s say and that could really clash and i do not feel solidarity with all those in every community i am for several reasons.)

Final thots that have taken up my time and the only thing i actually wanted to write but got distracted:

Anyway my dissertation is that I ilke Muren and LiCheng a lot a lot and i like how cute they are and how truly dumb li cheng is. This is an example of mostly good writing, decent actors, nice chemistry, and sort of a calmness to them. And I super enjoy how Muren is pretty forward with LC in the sense that being together is like very important to truly be together. When he was like “no i didnt forget!” Or when LC asked him something in the office I forget it was 6 am and again i almost threw up and muren nodded and then LC leaned on him. Very cute. I want more of them tho i may have to skip that othre couple (the cameo the ones from MODC) but omfg the younger one HIS HAIR GREW SO MUCH HE LOOKS SO MATURE AND CUTE OMFGIJ0HUG9SAOGIJPKOAGJSIOHUAGIJP hahhaha the one good thing i will say about THEM.idk how old the actor is i figure he was young idk it makes me happy to see him he’s very cute. I hope he’s in something i can watch and not gag at. Is he hot? Who knows but he is a cutie!!

Anyway muren and lc have a good thing going it’s nice to watch ho\pe they dont fuck it up but im truly a sucker for some true finds 2 luvas i think some user on her\e was like i’m not a fan of friends ot lovers bc it doesn’t seem like they’re actually friends and maybe they were referring to this show idk. But it made me think and it was a very good observation. So i think they are friends and also luvrs <3

#history 4 #history 4: close to you #i told sunset about you #a thot #tharntype #lovely writer #bl fandom #idk #lol #long

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jmnjmnjmn · 4 years ago

Text

Being Friendly | Jikook x Reader

Being Friendly a.k.a. 31 Days To Get Over A Crush

Pairing: Fratboy!Jimin x Sororitygir!Reader x Fratboy!Jungkook

Side: Fratboys!BTS, Sororitygirls!BLACKPINK

Key words: pov, f2l, university life, greek life

Warnings: heavy drinking, lying, jealousy, swearing

Word count: around 16,000

Masterlist

Day 0

(Y/N)’s P.O.V.

“Woah. Hold up.” Jungkook put his hands on my shoulders pushing me away.

As our lips parted I opened my eyes and noticed his horrified expression. I wish I hadn’t. I wish I kept them shut and stayed in that state of bliss for a second longer.

“What?” I looked him in the eyes, scrunching my eyebrows.

“What?” He widened his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. “You just kissed me. That’s what?” I blinked a couple of times trying to understand what he meant.

Yes, I just kissed him. What’s the matter with that?

“So?” I raised my previously knotted eyebrows at him and he just sighed, looking away.

“So?” Shaking his head once again he looked back at me with something of a patronising note in his eyes. “We’re practically siblings, (Y/N).” I felt an invisible hand reach down my throat and grab my heart, threatening to rip it apart.

“What?” I scoffed in shock. “We’re not though.” He chuckled, shaking his head - a motion I was starting to get sick of.

“Still-” He put his hand on my shoulder, shaking it lighty. For the first time in forever his touch made me feel uncomfortable. “-you’re like a sister to me.” The invisible hand tightened its grip on my pounding heart, crushing it irrevocably.

I blinked a couple of times before coughing to clear my throat with hope that it’ll help me mask the fact that I was close to releasing an angry, sorrowful sob.

“You’re right.” I croaked out, giving my head a small shake as I looked away from him - the sight of his face, the one that I loved so dearly right now made me want to vomit. “I’m drunk, I’m sorry. I-”

“It’s fine.” He generously cut off my stutters.

“Yeah.” I sighed, letting my shoulders fall a little lower as Jungkook lifted his hand off me. “I guess I- I-”

“It’s fine.” He interrupted me again as I was trying to come up with some kind of an explanation for myself. “Let’s just forget about it.” The invisible hand turned into a huge paw that slapped me across the face, making both my cheeks turn bright red.

“Yeah, let’s do that.” I said, feeling glad that the sun had set already and the balcony we were standing on was dark enough that he couldn’t see my flushed face.

“God, that gave me chills.” Jungkook chuckled, shaking his shoulders. I looked up at him, getting ready to hit him right across that smug smile. As he noticed my angry expression he raised his hands in an apologetic gesture. “No offense. It’s just so weird even thinking of thinking of you that way.”

“Yeah, shit.” I stepped backwards, leaning on the railing of the tiny, one square meter balcony. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked out onto the buildings surrounding us. How many people out there have been as viciously friendzoned as me tonight? “I guess.” I turned my gaze to my feet and then back up at him. “I’m really drunk.” I added with an apologetic smile. The only way to come out of this situation and still save face was to play along with Jungkook and pretend I was shitfaced beyond the point of understanding.

“I can tell.” He chuckled. My stomach dropped and so did my face. It turned out I didn’t have to act that much to seem shaken up and out of it. Does he know me at all? I looked hazily into the apartment, the party was still in full swing. Why shouldn’t it be? It’s not like anyone knew or even cared what just happened out here.

“I bet I won’t remember any of this tomorrow.” I said and he chuckled again, making a step towards the half open door.

“I won’t remind you.” He said with a silly grin that still made my crushed heart flutter.

“Good.” I pretended to exhale a small laugh as he shook his head and stepped back inside.

Day 1

Thank god for the weekend. After the heartbreaking incident of being ruthlessly friendzoned by my long time crush I needed time to blow some steam off before seeing him again in class on Monday.

On Saturday morning I woke up with a raging hangover from the night before and the bitter memory of Jungkook’s lips on mine. I let myself sulk in bed for over an hour before I forced myself to get up and take a hot shower. I got out of the bathroom feeling like a freshly cooked sausage wrapped in a white towel. My skin was soft and reddened from the temperature of the water that’s been running down my tired body for the past fifteen minutes. As I massaged my favourite flowery lotion into my puffed up face someone knocked on my dorm room door.

“Jungkook, let me in!” The person yelled out as I walked to the door. The sound of my friend’s name made me stop in my tracks. “Jungkook, get your ass up and let me in! Come on!” The pounding on the door grew louder and more frequent with each second.

I twisted the key in the lock and opened the door, not knowing what to expect. Outside I saw an unknown guy, probably close to Jungkook and I in age. He was a little shorter than him, but just as lean and good looking. His light brown hair was down, covering most of his forehead. He was wearing gym clothes and had a big exercise bag draped over his shoulder.

“Finally, I-” His happy expression turned into a surprised one as soon as he laid his eyes on me. Within a second he managed to look my whole figure up and down and as our eyes locked once again he smiled brightly. It wasn’t the same friendly smile though, this time it was an embarrassed one. “Ah, I’m sorry.” He giggled as a light blush spread across his face. It took me another second to realise the cause for his reaction was that I opened the door dressed in nothing but a towel.

If there was one thing dorm living has taught me it was to stop caring so much about what others thought of me. People constantly roamed the halls of my building in pajamas and yesterday’s makeup so I didn’t see anything wrong with opening the door in a mere towel?

“Is- uh- is Jungkook in?” He stuttered out, running his hand through his hair and obviously trying to look everywhere but at me. He must have assumed I was Jungkook’s girl for the night and honestly I still kind of wished I was…

“Next door.” I muttered and he finally looked at me, wide eyed.

“W-what?” He stammered. I had to admit the sight was amusing.

“He lives next door. This is 201, he’s at 203.” I explained and a look of realisation came over his face as he read the number on my door.

“Ah, right. Sorry.” He chuckled nervously and ran his hand through his hair one more time.

“It’s fine.” I said smiling lightly. He apologised once again and thanked me for the directions before walking away with the cutest look of embarrassment I have ever seen. As I closed the door and went back to drowning myself in lotion and sorrow I heard him call out Jungkook’s name once again as he knocked on his dorm room’s door.

Jungkook and I had many mutual friends simply from the fact that we lived in the same building, on the same floor, next door to each other. Often when we went out with our own groups we still somehow managed to run into one another somewhere throughout the night. Usually whenever that happened we would stick together until the latest of hours and walk back to our campus building together. Jungkook and I, together… I shook my head to snap myself out of the painful daydream and plopped down onto my unmade bed. Why was I still imagining myself with him when he was so quick to friendzone me last night?

“Siblings.” I scoffed. “What the hell was he even thinking? What was I thinking?” I wondered in confusion.

We’ve known each other for years, it wasn’t weird of me to develop a crush on the boy after some time. We went to the same primary, middle school, high school and now university. I never even thought of him in a romantic or sexual way until he joined the football team at the beginning of the year. I shook my head again, because my mind was already taking me back to the memory of seeing him play for the first time. I turned on my back and sighed deeply.

“Forget it.” I whispered to myself, knowing well that I won’t be able to do that. At least not yet. Running my hand over the soft linens it seemed as if they were calling my name. I closed my eyes ready to drift back into sleep when I actually heard my name being called. I got up on my knees on the bed and leaned on the windowsill, peaking my head slightly out the open window.

“Her name’s (Y/N).” I heard Jungkook’s groggy voice through his cracked window.

“She’s cute.” I recognised the voice of the sandy haired guy who knocked on my door earlier. “Can you give me her number?” As I heard him ask that question I forgot all about my stupid crush on Jungkook for a moment and smiled, looking out the window onto the campus grounds.

“You know she tried to kiss me last night?” My stomach dropped at the sound of Jungkook’s words. I immediately closed the window and reached for my phone. I opened up Spotify and played my Daily Mix on the highest setting. Right as the soothing sounds of Crush’s new single filled my ears I started dressing up.

All I yearned for was the comfort of my grey sweatpants, but I knew that if I were to walk out this door in them I would feel like shit for the rest of the day and do nothing of substance. I cursed under my breath before reaching for a pair of jean shorts and a red tank top. I threw on my favourite hoop earrings and a pair of Nike sneakers. Looking at myself in the mirror that hung on the inside of my wardrobe’s door I nodded in satisfaction. Putting on nice clothes made me feel a bit more motivated to do something other than sulk over being so harshly rejected last night. I pulled out my phone to text my girlfriends to go out for a late breakfast. Right as the screen lit up an unwanted notification appeared at the top of it.

10:47 [Jungkook] can u turn it down pls? im hungover as fuck rt now

I decided upon leaving the text unopened and proceeded with getting ready. I sat down at my desk and started putting my makeup on. With each stroke of a brush, each pat of a beauty blender I felt myself become more and more agitated. He was texting me while dishing to this random guy about how I threw myself at him last night. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all. Me kissing him, him pushing me away, me being blind enough to assume he would feel something as well… I wasn’t drunk. I drank that night, but then I was barely tipsy. I knew what I was doing when I leaned in and kissed him. Fortunately for me he didn’t know that.

I threw my bag over my shoulder and walked out my door shutting it loudly behind myself. Strutting down the corridor of the dorm I decided to reforge all my sadness, embarrassment and anger into something positive. I haven’t told anyone about what happened last night so it was still possible for me to play the ‘too drunk to remember’ front. I texted my girl squad to meet up and put a pair of dark sunglasses on my nose as I walked out of the building into the blinding sunlight.

My best friend Lisa was the first one to arrive at the restaurant I chose for our late breakfast. As she walked my way I knew she knew something was up with me.

“What’s wrong?” She asked sitting down next to me. “And don’t even try to say ‘nothing’.” I sighed, leaning back in my chair. Lisa was the only one I told about my crush on Jungkook in the first place so why not tell her about my failed attempt to make it work with him… Right?

“I kissed Jungkook last night.” I said bluntly and she lapped my arm, gasping.

“No.” She whisper-yelled, leaning towards me. “How was it?” I couldn’t help, but smile a little at her excitement.

“He pushed me away and said we’re practically like siblings.” I whined, remembering his hurtful words. Lisa gasped once again, but this time instead of hitting my arm she rubbed it comfortingly.

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry.” I rested my head on her shoulder and breathed out heavily. Lisa wrapped her arms around me in a warm hug. “It’ll be alright. I know tons of guys that would kill to get kissed by you.”

“I wanted him though.” I whined sitting up straight.

“I know.” She grabbed my hands in hers and smiled brightly. “But hey, there might be something good coming out of this whole situation.” I leaned my head to the side, eyes full of doubt.

“Like?”

“Well, you never moved into the Alpha Psi house even though you’re a sister, because you wanted to be close to your stupid crush. Right?” I looked away, feeling a blush of embarrassment creep onto my cheeks. “And now that he so viciously friendzoned you what’s left keeping you in that disgusting dorm?” I looked back at her with understanding.

“You’re right.” I nodded slowly. “This is actually perfect.” Lisa’s smile grew wider along with the levels of my excitement. “Fuck him, fuck the dorms. I’m moving to Alpha Psi.”

“This is perfect!” Lisa exclaimed, crushing my palms in hers.

“What is?” Both our heads snapped up to see Jennie and Rose, walking up to our table.

“You better sit down before I tell you.” Lisa warned the two girls and they followed her order with intrigued looks on their faces. “(Y/N)’s finally moving in!”

Day 3

I looked around the lecture hall in search of an empty seat. As I scanned the room I noticed a hand waving at me to come over. Focusing my gaze on the person I recognised Jungkook. Walking towards him I ordered myself to stay calm and pretend nothing happened.

“Hey.” I breathed out sitting down beside him.

“Hey, where have you been?” He asked, turning in his seat slightly. “I haven’t seen you all weekend.” The fact that he noticed my absence at the dorms made me feel warm inside, but I quickly waved the feeling off remembering how shit I felt on Friday, all thanks to his smug face.

“Oh, I was at the Alpha Psi house.” I said casually, pretending I didn’t just notice him raising his eyebrows at me suggestively at the mention of my sorority.

“How are your sisters by the way?” He asked, scratching his chin with a dreamy smile on his face.

“Great.” I set my bag on the ground in front of me with a loud thud. “I finally decided to move in with them.”

“Hm, a perfect reason for me to come visit.” He chuckled and I rolled my eyes. How did I manage to develop a crush on this guy? He clearly has only one thing on his mind…

“No luck, Jungkook.” I shot him down. “No boys allowed in the house.” He groaned tiredly and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the professor's commanding voice asking everyone to take their seats.

The old man announced that starting today and until the end of the spring-summer semester in four weeks we will be working on a project regarding whatever he was teaching. Since I always sat with Jungkook in his classes I ended up never really listening to what he was saying which led me to being totally clueless when he started reading out the topics of individual projects he’ll assign to us.

“Wanna do this together?” Jungkook nudged my side right as the professor said we’ll be working in pairs.

I looked at him with my mouth slightly open, not knowing what to say. Of course I want to do this together! But at the same time the proximity of our bodies was making me sick…

“I guess-” My answer was cut short as the professor started reading out individual students' names assigning them to specific topics.

“Shit.” Jungkook groaned leaning back in his seat and I smiled lightly, knowing that for now I was saved.

“(Y/Full/N) and Park Jimin.”

“Ah, really?” Jungkook scoffed. I looked at him, crossing his arms in his seat with an annoyed expression.

“What?” I asked writing down in my phone the name of the boy I had no idea was in this class with me.

“That’s my friend.” He explained and turned towards me with a grin growing across his face. “Switch with me.” I rested my back in my chair weighing the options in my head.

“Who do you have?”

“I don’t know yet.” He shrugged.

“Jeon Jungkook and Kim Taehyung." The professor read out.

“Forget about it.” He shot me down before I could say a word. Taehyung was one of the best students in the class and working with him would definitely earn Jungkook a good grade for the end of the semester.

Day 5

Since Jimin was absent during the lecture the professor assigned the project’s topics I asked Jungkook for his number so I could message him about it. I finally got around to doing it on Wednesday afternoon. I was sitting at a cafe on campus looking through the menu when he texted me back with a proposition to meet up in person. For some reason I felt reluctant towards meeting up with one of Jungkook’s friends. What if he told them about my little kissing escapade? I sighed typing back an ‘okay’ and asking him if he could see me right now, knowing the project won’t just do itself.

17:42 [(Y/N)] im at the cafe in building 23

17:43 [Park Jimin] omw

By the time six rolled up the cafe practically emptied. I sat at a table with two small benches on its sides stirring my iced smoothie with the paper straw. I glided my finger across the laminated menu wondering whether to order now or keep waiting for Jimin, fortunately I didn’t have to wonder for much longer.

“Hey.” My head snapped up as a light brown haired guy sat down across from me. He smiled sweetly, going over my figure shamelessly before looking me right in the eyes. “It’s you.”

“Hey.” I said returning his smile without hesitation. His face looked somewhat familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on why.

“I liked your other outfit better.” He said gesturing to my white flax shirt that I half-tucked to my jean shorts. I raised my eyebrows unsure of what he meant. He grinned, running his hand through his hair slightly embarrassed. “I- uh- the- the towel.”

“Oh, you.” I exclaimed in realisation. “Hi.” He nodded, still smiling. As he moved his head his multiple earrings shined in the cafe’s dim lighting.

“Jimin.” He reached his hand across the table and I took it shaking it lightly.

“(Y/N).” I said holding up a smile despite coming to one more, this time shocking, realisation. This boy was the one Jungkook told about the stupid ‘drunken’ kiss and god knows what else.

“I know.” Jimin released my hand from his with the same sincere smile that seemed more like a devilish grin in my now close to paranoid state. I raised my eyebrows once again, though I already had an idea regarding where he heard about me. Jimin leaned back in his seat, no longer embarrassed. “Your reputation precedes you.”

“Excuse me?” I scrunched my eyebrows somehow feeling that my reputation wasn’t anywhere close to squeaky. “What do you mean by that?” Jimin smirked, scratching his chin.

“You’re a known party girl and…” He made a pause to look away for a second and poke the inside of his cheek with his tongue. When we finally locked eyes again he was grinning cheekily. “Boys talk.”

“Yeah.” I scoffed leaning back on my bench and knotting my arms across my chest. “That I know they do.”

“Mhm.” Jimin hummed and took one of the laminated menus from the table. He scanned the page over casually before speaking up again. “You’re the topic of the day at least once a week.” He said, still reading the menu.

“Amongst?” I squinted at him slightly, wondering about the crowd on which’s lips I am on so often. He glanced up at me quickly before tossing the menu back on the table with that same satisfied smirk plastered across his handsome face.

“My football team for starters.” He put his hands between his legs leaning forward, making his chest touch the edge of the table.

“You play football?” His face expression changed from something along the lines of ‘i know something you don’t know’ to something more… Cocky.

“Yeah.” He leaned back again, resting his back on the wooden bench, his chin elevated slightly. ”With Jungkook.” I nodded slowly, scanning his face with my piercing gaze.

“Huh, I guess I never noticed you.” He appeared to have visibly shrunk for a moment at the sound of my words. Quickly he recollected himself, going back to the confident smile that - I have to admit - fit him perfectly.

“You will from now on then.” He said, cocking his eyebrow at me and I couldn’t stop myself from exhaling a weak chuckle.

“Hopefully for all the right reasons.” I said relaxing my shoulders. There was no reason - other than Jimin possibly knowing everything about my ‘drunken’ mistake from the other night - for me to feel uncomfortable or inferior to him. I decided to keep my front up and pretend, just as much in front of myself as in front of him, that I don’t remember anything that happened last Friday night. “Let’s get started on this hell of a project.”

“Before we do-” He cut me off, putting his arm on the back of the bench he was sitting on. “-I have a question.” I raised my eyebrows at him, taking a long sip from my smoothie. “You’re an Alpha Psi, right?” I smiled leaning back in my seat.

“Mhm.” I simply hummed in answer to his question. Party girl, Jungkook’s friend, sorority sister. What else did he know me as?

“It’s really a miracle we haven’t met before.” He smiled, shaking his head. “I’m in Theta Sigma Phi. Rush Chair.” I widened my eyes at him as he described his position.

“It is a miracle.” My interest in his person grew as I tried to go over all the boys I knew from his fraternity in my head. “I thought I knew all the exec boys from your frat.”

“Must have slipped your mind.” He smiled at me from across the table.

“Must have.” I said, looking into his dark brown eyes. “I just rushed this year so I’m still a baby.” I chuckled lightly.

“Not that much of a baby, Miss Treasurer.” He smiled at me showing his perfect white teeth. He either did his homework before coming to meet me or I was that loud of a bitch that everyone knew who I was and what I did way before I even met them. Either way the fact he knew this much about me when I knew nothing about him made me feel both a little unsettled and excitedly curious. “Rumor has it you’re after the Vice President chair.” My eyes involuntarily turned into small slits as I heard the words ‘vice president’. He noticed the change in my expression and laughed loudly. “They say you’re ambitious.”

“Who says?” I didn’t even try to sound casual as I asked him, reaching for my drink. His smile turned into a cocky grin as he stretched in his seat.

“Jungkook.” I rolled my eyes at the name.

“Of course.” I scoffed. “That boy can’t keep his mouth shut. Say one thing once…” I took a big sip of my icy beverage, trying to calm my nerves.

“Also Jisoo says she wants you as her Vice Prez when she takes over next year.” I choked on the ice as he said the name of the current Vice President of my sorority. “You okay?” Jimin laughed at my reaction.

“When did you talk to Jisoo?” I asked when I finally caught my breath again.

“Uh, sometime over the weekend.” He scratched his head in wonder. “Sunny’s graduating this year and-”

“I know how it works.” I interrupted him angered that he knew so much about my sorority.

“I never said you didn’t.” He raised his hands in an apologetic motion.

“Let’s get on with this project.” I sighed putting my empty glass down and Jimin stood up. I raised my eyebrows looking up at him. “Where are you going?”

“What, you wanted to work here?” He asked, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. I nodded and he shook his head smiling again. “No way, we’re going to your house.”

“Uh, no way.” I looked at him with a satisfied grin, still sitting down. “Alpha Psi does-”

“Doesn’t allow boys inside the house.” He finished my sentence in a joking tone. “I know. I hoped I could trick you.” He chuckled innocently. “Come on, we’ll do this at my house.”

Day 6

Jimin’s P.O.V.

“Should we take a break?” I asked, laying my upper body over the table in my fraternity’s chapter room.

(Y/N) looked over at me from across the table, her face resting in the palms of her hands. The way her body was positioned made her top scrunch up slightly over her chest showing off a bit more cleavage she might have wanted it to. I couldn’t help but imagine her in that skimpy towel I saw her in the first time we met.

“Yes.” She finally breathed out, letting her arms fall on the counter. She quickly straightened up and stretched her hands over her head, bringin the tops material back in its place. “I should go home.”

Looking at the clock I realised it was already ten minutes after midnight. We met to work on our sociology project around six in the afternoon, but spent more than half of the time bonding over our experiences being part of the greek life only starting to gather information and brainstorm about our designated topic about an hour ago.

“I’ll walk you.” I offered standing up from the table as she packed up her belongings.

“I live down the street. There’s no need.” I stretched my arms, nodding slowly.

“If you say so.” I walked her to the door and frowned as the night’s cold wind came through it when I held it open for her. “Wait a second.” I said shutting the door closed.

“What?” She asked behind my back as I was already jumping up the stairs to get to my bedroom.

I rummaged through my closet searching for a clean sweatshirt, preferably one with my name on the back of it.

“You’re in deep, Jimin.” I chuckled at my own possessiveness. “Coming!” I yelled as I finally found the piece of clothing I was looking for. Skipping down the stairs I pulled a grey hoodie over my head and as I approached (Y/N), waiting for me by the door, I handed her a navy zip-up. “Here. It’s cold.” She took the sweatshirt and zipped it all the way up without a word. “I’ll walk you.”

“Jimin, I literally-” I cut her off breathing out a hiss.

“I’m walking you.” I repeated myself and she just smiled pushing the heavy oak door open. I held the door for her, staying behind to take a look at my masterpiece - ‘Park’ written in golden lettering over her shoulders.

Day 8

Jungkook’s P.O.V.

I was stretching by the coach’s bench before the big game when I noticed her, sitting in the bleachers, fourth or fifth row. She was smiling, talking to a brown haired girl to her right, looking down at her phone.

“(Y/N)!” I called out straightening up. Her head instantly shot up, looking around. I waved and called her name again. Finally her friend pointed her towards me and our eyes met. I gestured for her to come down and rested my elbows on the railing separating the field from the bleachers, waiting as she skipped down the steps with a smile on her face. “What are you doing here?” I asked, leaving out unnecessary greetings and pleasantries.

“Cheering for my university’s team.” She answered resting her palms on each side of my arms. I looked down with a smirk before straightening up and crossing my arms over my chest.

“You mean for me?” I asked and she raised her eyebrow at my teasing comment.

“You wish.” She spat back with a smile. I already opened my mouth to let her know I have to go join my team as the game was about to start when something unexpected happened.

My teammate Jimin came out from the door under the bleachers, he must have just left the locker room. I nodded his way as a sign I’ll be joining him on the field in a minute and he nodded back before quickly averting his eyes from me to (Y/N). Now, I’m no expert, but his eyes changed when he looked at her. It felt borderline inappropriate. My smile faded as he made his way towards the two of us, eying (Y/N) from head to toe, instead of walking towards the main entrance to the football field. He pushed on the small gate in the railing opening it to walk onto the green grass.

“Hey, (Y/N).” He said walking past her with a cocky smile I knew so well from the many times we went out to bars together to pick up girls.

“Hey.” She smiled back and I swear I never saw her look at anyone like that. I followed Jimin with my gaze as he started jogging to the rest of the team. “Good luck.” My head snapped back to (Y/N) as she smiled at me before walking away to join her friend in the bleachers. With a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach I jogged towards my team.

“What was that?” I asked standing next to Jimin. He was warming up with some high kicks, but switched to stretching his shoulders when I came over.

“What?” He asked, confusion on his face. I shook my head and also started stretching.

“Why are you talking to (Y/N)?” I asked him bluntly.

“We’re…” He stopped to think of the right word, but when he finally spoke again I wished he hadn’t. “Friendly.” He smiled brightly showing his teeth.

“Friendly?” I scoffed and stopped stretching to rest my hands on my hips. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“What do you mean?” Jimin asked, scrunching his eyebrows as he reached both his hands behind his back to stretch his chest. “We’re doing a project for sociology together.”

“She’s off limits.” I said through gritted teeth, not even looking at him, not caring that the reason behind their ‘friendliness’ might be as simple as them doing a project together.

“What?” He gasped with a chuckle that made my blood come close to boiling. “Since when?”

“Since always.” I finally looked at him again. He had his hands on his hips, mirroring my movements so I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to become visibly bigger. For some reason I wanted to look intimidating right now.

“Boys, positions!” Our coach called out cutting our altercation short.

I jogged towards my spot on the field. As I leaned forward resting my hands on my knees I looked to my left at the bleachers. From this distance I was unable to find (Y/N) in the crowd. I glanced to my right and saw Jimin staring forward, this time nothing but will to win in his eyes.

“(Y/N)’s off limits.” I breathed out jogging next to Jimin towards the opposing team's side of the field. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, her and their meaningful stares. It felt wrong. It felt disgusting. Jimin and her… Over my dead body.

“What?” He panted, glancing at me confused. “You’re still talking about this?”

“She’s practically my sister.” I said looking down at him. Jimin chuckled, his eyes focused on the black and white ball in the distance.

“She’s not though.” He said in a suggestive tone.

“Yeah, well I don’t want you being ‘friendly’ with her anymore.” I hissed, running a little faster to increase the distance between us.

“Oh, fuck off.” I heard him call from behind me. “I’ll be ‘friendly’ as much as I want.” He said catching up to me. “And for the record.” He glanced at me over his shoulder as he ran in front of me now. “I’m not the only one acting ‘friendly’.” He chuckled with a grin and I almost tripped over my own feet.

”What did you just say?” I asked and he chuckled again, turning to face me and jogging backwards for a moment.

“You heard me.” He said, cocking his eyebrow. As he turned forward again I picked up my pace and ran by him hitting him with my shoulder hard enough to make him stumble and almost fall to the ground.

(Y/N)’s P.O.V.

“I thought you said they were good.” Lisa whined in the seat next to me. I sighed looking at the scoreboard, our university’s team was far behind its rivals and the second half of the game has already started.

“That’s what Jungkook always told me.” I looked around the field looking for my friend and noticed him jogging along the white ‘out’ line. “Jimin said they were in top shape just yesterday.” I added noticing the guy next to him was Jimin himself. “I don’t understand why they’re playing so shit all of a sudden.” I whined, keeping my eyes peeled to the two of them.

Jungkook picked up his pace leaving Jimin behind, but he quickly joined him by his side. After a couple of seconds he went in front of him, even from this far I could make out his smile. He turned to Jungkook jogging backwards for a moment before facing the right direction again. Then the other one matched his speed and ran over to him hitting him with his shoulder so hard he almost fell to the ground. I gasped.

“What’s going on there?” Lisa asked, straightening up in her seat.

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t look good.” I said, stretching my neck as far as I could to see more of what was going on on the field.

“Oh, shit.” Lisa hissed as Jimin ran over to Jungkook again. The taller one turned around and pushed him away harshly. “They’re gonna fight.” She said with both excitement and anxiety lining her words.

Fortunately the fight ended right where it started. Jungkook pushed Jimin once again earning himself a yellow card before the coach ran over and separated the two. Jimin kept his cool and walked off to the rest of his teammates shaking his head.

“This is just sad.” I sighed after the next fifteen minutes passed. Looking at my phone I realised there’s still about twenty minutes until the end of the game, but I didn’t really want to stay any longer.

“Should we go?” Lisa looked at me with begging eyes.

“I kind of want to, but I don’t want to be a dick to Jimin or Jungkook.” I answered her truthfully.

“It’s not like you told them you’re here to support any of them or they invited you or something.” I looked at her with a weak smile as she spoke. She was right. It’s not likeI was here for any of them… Right?

“Alright.” I sighed and grabbed my bag from the floor. “They won’t win anyway. Let’s go.” We stood up and squeezed through the crowded bleachers.

Day 10

Walking to my morning Philosophy class I felt more than happy that I decided to move to the Alpha Psi house. It was located in the Fraternity-Sorority Row that was way closer than my dorm to most of the buildings I had my classes in this semester. Walking by the Theta Sigma Phi house - Jimin’s house - I noticed a familiar car.

“Jungkook?” I asked stopping by the vehicle. The buy peeked his head from behind the car, holding a carton box in his arms. “What are you doing here?” He shut the trunk loudly leaving my question unanswered.” What’s going on?” I asked again, not letting him go without getting an answer.

“I’m moving.” He said simply, locking his car.

“Here?” I pointed my head towards the frat house and he just hummed in agreement. “I didn’t know you were rushing.” I said, beginning to feel uncomfortable in his presence.

“We keep our rush procedures a secret, (Y/N).” My head snapped from Jungkook’s intimidating figure back towards the house.

“Jimin.” I said greeting him with a smile as he approached the two of us. “Congratulations. You got a real good brother on your hands.” I tried to sound as sweet and sincere as I could, unwittingly referring back to the time Jungkook said we were like siblings. “How fun. We’ll be neighbours again.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook answered in a dead tone.

“You need any help?” I asked after a moment, not sure whether I wanted him to agree.

“No.” He shut me down quickly.

“You got my hoodie?” Jimin asked, breaking the awkward silence that settled between Jungkook and I.

“Oh, no.” I whined cutely. “I left it home. I can bring it by after classes if you need it.”

“No need.” He waved me off and I started wondering why he even brought the topic up in the first place. “It looks better on you anyway.” I smiled at his compliment before looking down at my phone and realising the time.

“I have to run.” I sighed, putting my hands in the pockets of my jean shorts. “But if you need anything you know where to find me.” I smiled at him and then averted my eyes at Jungkook who stood in front of me with the most serious expression. “Both of you.”

Jimin’s P.O.V.

I shamelessly checked (Y/N)’s ass out as she walked away, her jean shorts hugging her hips just perfectly.

“Keep it in your pants.” Jungkook scoffed as he turned to walk towards the house.

“Really?” I asked, still standing on the sidewalk. “Really?” I repeated myself, but he kept walking. “I can’t believe you’re still mad about me hanging out with her.” I called out after him. “She’s not your sister, Jungkook.” He walked inside, shutting the door behind himself loudly.

I sighed unsure of what I should do. Jungkook was my friend and now my frat brother as well, but there were no rules in the guy’s code of honour when it came to girls your friend felt were like his sister, but really weren’t. There were rules about sisters and other relatives, exes, crushes, but nothing about, well, (Y/N). I already told Jungkook that I had my eye out for her when we first met in their dorm building and he didn’t seem to have any objections then.

“For fuck’s sake.” I sighed as I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

9:59 [Jimin] project tonight?

10:03 [(Y/N)] can’t. chapter meeting.

10:03 [(Y/N)] tomorrow?

10:04 [Jimin] k. ur house

10:06 [(Y/N)] don’t even start

10:06 [(Y/N)] ill b at urs round 5

10:08 [Jimin] i have football til 7

I debated for a moment before sending the next message.

10:10 [Jimin] pick me up from practice? ;)

10:11 [(Y/N)] c u there :*

I exhaled loudly as I read (Y/N)’s answer, making a mental note to myself to work extra hard in practice tomorrow in case she decided to show up earlier.

Day 11

(Y/N)’s P.O.V.

I scrolled through my Instagram feed mindlessly as I walked towards the football field. It was already five minutes past seven when I finally made it to my destination. Looking around the vast space I didn’t see any players. I pulled my phone out to text Jimin.

19:05 [(Y/N)] im here

“Hey.” Looking up from my phone I saw Jungkook walking my way with his exercise bag over his shoulder.

“Shit.” I hissed under my breath, totally forgetting Jimin and he were on the same football team. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see him, well… Maybe a little. He was so weird the last time I saw him and my heart was still fragile from him rejecting my kiss.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, stopping just a step away from me. “Came to see me?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me and I rolled my eyes at his teasing.

Before I could open my mouth to shoot him some kind of a comeback I heard my name being called from behind his back. He stiffened looking over his shoulder, noticing Jimin walking our way with a bright smile.

“Hey.” I greeted him as he stopped next to Jungkook, the height difference more visible than ever before.

“Hope you didn’t wait long.” He said in a chipper tone, adjusting the hold on his bag.

“I just got here.” I said, reciprocating the smile.

“Let’s go.” Jimin ordered and we both started walking, leaving Jungkook a step behind us. He quickly matched our pace, walking on my right hand side, Jimin on my left.

“Oh, I didn’t notice your text.” Jimin said in an apologetic tone as he scrolled through his notifications. Jungkook raised his eyebrow at me questioningly, but I decided to ignore him. “Honestly, I was hoping you’d come a little early.”

“Why?” Jungkook and I asked in unison, making Jimin chuckle.

“‘Cause.” He averted his gaze to his feet before glancing back at me. “I wanted you to see me play.”

“I just saw you last week. You were pretty bad.” I shot back, giggling lightly.

“Touche.” He scoffed, jokingly shoving my shoulder with his. “We’re playing again at the end of the month.” He stuffed his hands into the front pocket of his sweatshirt. “I’ll make sure to play extra well if you decide to show up.”

“I’ll think about it.” I teased him, looking away.

“I have something to do at the dorms.” Jungkook muttered before taking a sharp turn right and walking away without any further explanations.

“Uh- Bye.” I called out looking at his back. “What’s with him?” I asked Jimin as we kept walking towards the Fraternity-Sorority Row.

“You tell me.” He shrugged. “We’re not really on talking terms right now.”

“What happened?” I asked, truthfully concerned.

“I don’t know.” He sighed, clearly not wanting to elaborate much on the topic and I didn’t dig further.

Jimin’s P.O.V.

I was ready for us to sit down and relax while pretending we’re doing research, but when (Y/N) pulled out her laptop and started spewing questions at me I knew that was not going to be the case. We ended up almost finishing our Sociology project that night, only thing left was to send out our survey and go through the results in a couple of days.

“Can’t we just forge it?” I asked, rubbing my tired eyes.

“What?” She frowned, scrolling through something on her computer. She was sitting on the couch opposite to me, her hair tied in a messy ponytail at the top of her head. She looked so pretty.

“The results.” I explained, keeping my eyes glued to her chest rising up and falling down rhythmically.

“But then we’ll be done and I won’t have a reason to hang out with you anymore.” She whined sweetly and I chuckled, taken aback by her cheeky answer. I leaned my back against the comfortable couch now looking at her face, her eyes still focused on the screen instead of me. I couldn’t help, but feel jealous.

“Come over whenever.” I said in a low voice. “No reason needed.”

“I just might.” She smiled, typing something on the keyboard. “Alright.” She slapped her laptop closed. “I’m going home.”

“Already?” I straightened up in my seat.

“It’s close to ten.” She stated, packing up her things.

“Is it?” I asked more myself than her, not realising how fast the time went by. I followed her to the door and held it open for her. “I’ll see you soon, huh?” She hummed in agreement, but stopped mid step as she was walking through the doorway.

“Are you going to the party at Tri Kappa on Friday?” “I am if you are.” I thought to myself and nodded at her in answer.

“And you?” I asked, trying my hardest to play it cool.

“‘Course.” She said sweetly as she smiled over her shoulder, walking away. “See you, Jimin.”

“See you.” I said, closing the door behind her.

Day 14

Stumbling through the crowded room I felt like throwing up. I definitely drank too much tonight. I walked towards the open door and finally stepped outside onto the open air. The loud music made my ears ring so I shook my head to get rid of the sound. Bad idea. I lost my balance and leaned on the wall beside me. When I finally looked up and scanned my surroundings all I saw was just more drunk people. People on the back porch, people in the pool, people on the lawn. Dancing, drinking, talking.

I inhaled deeply as a flowery smell filled my nostrils. Blinking excessively to make my eyes focus better I looked around for the source of the sweet scent. It didn’t take long since I knew exactly what, or rather who, I was looking for.

“(Y/N)!” I called out, looking at her bare back as she just passed by me with one of her girlfriends draped on her arm. “Hey, girl.” I said grinning as she looked over her shoulder.

When our eyes locked she reciprocated the smile, quickly whispering something to her friend before she walked off. I felt my brain fighting against the alcohol and telling me to act sober as she turned to face me and stepped closer to hug me ‘hello’.

“Hi.” She called elongating the word so it lasted throughout the entirety of your hug.

She lifted her hand off my shoulder slowly, making sure to run it down my bicep briefly. When we were no longer touching I felt intoxicated in a totally different way than I did a moment earlier. Her skin… It was just too much for me to handle in the drunken state I was in.

“Come here often?” She laughed at my stupid pick-up line and my smile grew wider as she flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“Only when you’re around.” She answered cheekily.

“Smooth.” I nodded at her quick response and had to stop myself from turning into a giggly, blushing mess when she shoved my arm jokingly. “You want something to drink?” She barely started lifting her hand in which I noticed she held a half empty cup of something when I heard my name being called.

“Jimin!” I looked over (Y/N)’s shoulder onto the crowded garden and saw my friend and frat Vice Prez Namjoon, drunk out of his mind, gesturing for me to come over. “Beer pong!” He yelled towards me. We had this unwritten rule among our frat brothers that whenever one of us called another one to play a drinking game, especially Beer Pong, the other one just had to join. He just had to. “Now!” I sighed, letting my shoulders sink as I wanted to stay and talk to (Y/N) just a little bit longer.

“I have to go.” I whined sadly. “I wish I didn’t though.” I said in a low voice, gliding my hand over (Y/N)’s waist as I walked by her. She grabbed my forearm with her soft palm and my head snapped back to her ignoring Namjoon’s voice in the background.

“I wanna play too.” She said smiling sweetly. I muttered a soft ‘okay’ and grabbed her hand to guide her through the mass of sweaty people.

“Boys vs. girls.” I stated as we got to the ping-pong table. “Fuck off.” I growled at the two strangers standing on the side of the table opposite Namjoon's.

“Who do we have here?” He asked walking up to (Y/N) and I.

“Namjoon, meet (Y/N).” I introduced her, bringing my arm around her shoulders. “Next year’s Alpha Psi’s Vice Prez.”

“Don’t jinx it.” She nudged my side teasingly.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N).” Namjoon smiled. “You got someone to be on your team?”

“She does.” Someone said and before I knew it (Y/N) slipped from under my arm and into her friends hug. “Lisa.” The girl introduced herself briefly with a cocky smile.

“Alright, let’s get it.” I said, rubbing my hands together.

“House rules: If you don’t drink you do a dare.” Namjoon said, smirking as we took our positions on opposite ends of the table.

“Of what kind?” Lisa asked, stretching her arms in front of her.

“Winner’s choice.” He answered her, picking up the white plastic ball.

Day 15

(Y/N) and Lisa were surprisingly good at the game. They were knocking out our cups one by one and spitting dares left and right. When we managed to shoot our ball into one of their cups they drank it without hesitation, not even wanting to hear our stupid dares.

“Yeah!” I exclaimed as my shot made it into one of their many plastic cups.

“Dare! Dare! Dare!” Namjoon called out repeatedly and I just raised my eyebrows at (Y/N) standing with her arms across her chest on the other end of the table.

“Fine.” Lisa chuckled and Namjoon cheered drunkenly.

“I dare you to take a shot of (Y/N)’s stomach.” He blurted out and she rolled her eyes at him with a laugh.

“Get on here.” She asked her pointing to the table.

I gulped loudly as (Y/N) layed down on the wobbly table, lifting up her shirt to reveal her stomach. Lisa placed a half full shot glass over her belly button as (Y/N) put a quarter of a lime between her lips. Lisa leaned over her friend’s stomach grabbing the glass with her lips and jerked her head backwards swallowing the contents of it in one, swift go. Later she grabbed the glass with her hand and put her other palm on the back of (Y/N)’s head as she lifted herself up on her elbows, still lying on the table. As their faces inched closer Lisa bit on the lime (Y/N) was holding between her teeth as a chaser.

“That was hot.” I muttered and Namjoon hit my back with his open palm laughing.

“Our turn.” (Y/N) exclaimed, tucking her shirt back into the front of her short skirt.

“Uh, house rules.” Namjoon cut her off with an evil smile. “Winner’s get a second turn after you take the dare.”

“This isn’t even your house.” She protested, chuckling.

“Yeah, well I started the game so… My rules.” He explained himself poorly and shot his shot. “Fuck yeah!” He yelled out, making it into one of the girls’ cups once again.

“Dare.” (Y/N) said without hesitation.

(Y/N) stumbled down the front steps of the Tri Cappa house, chuckling to herself.

“Sorry.” She mumbled as she bumped into me. I smiled looking up at her as I was sitting on the wooden steps, trying to collect myself before walking home.

“L- leaving already?” I asked with hiccups interrupting my words. She nodded, pulling her phone out of her skirt’s pocket.

“Shit, it’s three already.” She inhaled sharply, not realising the time.

“I’ll walk you.” I said, slowly pushing myself up from the ground. She didn’t protest though her house was less than a minute away.

“You’re drunk.” She chuckled and I gave her a serious glare.

“You’re drunk.” I shot back and she chuckled again, looking at my stupid expression.

“Walk with me.” She asked, grabbing my arm and pulling me to her side.

Wishing I could be glued to her like this forever I walked with her through the front lawn of the frat house and right into her sorority’s front garden. We climbed up the front two steps onto the elevated porch and she let go of me, grabbing in the golden door handle.

“Oh.” She looked at me over her shoulder and I felt myself become sober all of a sudden. “I still have your sweatshirt.”

Before I could think twice my hands were already on the sides of (Y/N)’s neck, pulling her face towards mine, making our lips crash in a sloppy excuse of a kiss. I tried to move my mouth in sync with her’s, but couldn’t, resulting in me practically kissing her chin as she chuckled.

“What?” I breathed out, also starting to laugh as she rested her hands on my hips.

“You’re drunk.” She snickered against my lips.

“You’re drunk.” I spat back, still holding her close to me.

“Yeah, but that was so bad.” (Y/N) giggled, grabbing on the bottom hem of my shirt.

“Okay, fuck you.” I laughed stepping away.

“No, wait.” She smiled, pulling on my shirt. “Try again.” She pleaded, bringing her face close enough to mine that our lips almost touched as she spoke.

“Give me a second.” I said, cupping her face in my hands. “Close your eyes.” I asked her as she stared at me through her half lifted lids. She followed my order, still smiling. I leaned my head forward kissing her lightly.

As our lips touched again she reciprocated the kiss in a way I just imagined she would. Our tongues moved in unison, her hands travelled up my sides and to my chest. After a blissful moment of feeling her mouth on mine I could feel her smile into the kiss.

“Stop.” I breathed out against her lips before she started giggling again.

“I’m sorry.” She said, backing away slightly. “Just- just keep-” I cut her off connecting our mouths again.

I pulled the covers over my head as the bright sunlight made its way into my bedroom. I licked my chapped lips, still feeling the bitter taste of alcohol in my throat. I slowly lifted my heavy eyelids when it hit me.

I made out with (Y/N) last night.

Instantly I sat up in my bed, but quickly laid back down again as my stomach rose up in my chest. I reached for my phone,but couldn’t find it on my night stand.

I made out with (Y/N) yesterday.

I fell out of bed and onto the cold wooden floor with a loud thud, wrapped in bed sheets. I frantically looked through my jeans pockets and finally found my phone.

I kissed (Y/N).

As I tried to unlock the device its screen stayed black for a moment before I saw an image of an empty battery pop up. I quickly crawled to the desk in the corner of the room and connected my phone to power.

“What are you doing?” My head snapped to Namjoon. He was laying in his bed on the other side of the room, elevating himself on his elbows, staring at me with amusement.

“I made out with (Y/N) last night.” I blurted out without thinking.

“Congrats.” He said simply, prior to falling onto the mattress and drifting back to sleep.

(Y/N)’s P.O.V.

My eyes fluttered open slowly at the sound of my alarm clock. I felt an overwhelming pain forming in my head as the buzzing went on for a good minute. When I finally turned the thing off I was already too awake to fall back asleep. I slowly sat myself up in my bed, wrapping the covers around my cold shoulders. Entangled in the blankets I reached for my phone to scroll through social media. My phone chimed in my hand making me frown at the abrupt sound. I squinted reading the text on the screen.

11:32 [Jimin] u up?

“Huh?” I groaned. “Lisa?” I called out my best friend's name, making her turn in her bed. “Lisa, check this out.” I slowly walked from my bed to hers, plopping down lazily next to her. “Look.” I put the phone up to her face. She scanned the screen with half open lids and looked up at me with confusion.

“What do you want from me?” She asked and I sighed, remembering I haven;t yet told her what happened between Jimin and I last night.

“Jimin walked me home last night and we made out on the porch.” I spoke as I rubbed my tired eyes. “And it wasn’t like- he wasn’t like- well, it was more-” I sighed, unable to voice my feelings. “It was kind of romantic.”

“Are you sure?” She asked with her eyes closed. “Would he test ‘u up?’ if it was really romantic?” Was she right? I didn’t want her to be.

“What should I do?” I asked her. “I am ‘up’.” Lisa chuckled at my annoyed tone.

“I don’t know.” She whined, turning away. “Text him back, or don’t.”

I looked at the screen. There were no dots in the corner that would signal Jimin was about to write another message.

11:42 [(Y/N)] im up

Not more than ten seconds passed before he texted me back, the contents of the message made my stomach turn.

11:42 [Jimin] i need to talk to u

11:42 [Jimin] can u come over?

“Oh, no.” I scoffed. I was not going to walk all the way down the street just to get rejected again. The PTSD after Jungkook was still all too fresh.

11:45 [(Y/N)] cant u?

11:45 [Jimin] omw

I squealed, hiding my face in my hands.

“He’s coming over.” I muttered, feeling Lisa turn under the blankets beside me.

“What?” She asked, sounding awake all of a sudden.

“He’s coming here.” I repeated, standing up quickly. “I need to get myself together.”

“Brush your teeth!” Lisa called behind me as I ran out of the room.

11:59 [Jimin] come on down

I ran my hand through my hair and exhaled loudly.

“Just stay calm, dude.” I said to myself. “Stay calm.” I turned away from the front door, glancing over the garden, the sorority houses always had them look better than the frats.

My head snapped back to the door as I heard the lock turn. (Y/N) stepped outside wearing the shortest gym shorts and a t-shirt with her sorority’s name on it. I bit my lip, running my eyes from her feet to her face as she leaned on the red brick wall of the house.

“Hi.” She said sweetly and I smiled lightly hearing her voice.

“Hey.” I answered, feeling my shoulders tense up a little. “Can I come-”

“Sorry, Jimin.” She cut me off almost immediately, an apologetic look on her face. “No boys-”

“No boys allowed.” I finished her sentence smirking. “I know. Can’t blame me for trying.” I joked, but at this point she wasn’t looking at me anymore.

Her eyes were focused on something behind me. I turned to look over my shoulder when another guy passed by me.

“Hey, (Y/N).” He said opening the door.

“Hi, Hoseok.” She answered.

“Wha-” I looked between them both in utter shock.

“No boys, dude.” He said shooting me a superior stare. “Men can come in though.”

“Excuse me?” I scoffed as he chuckled, shutting the door behind himself.

“Don’t mind him.” (Y/N) sighed, putting her hand on the golden handle. “There’s an exception for boyfriends.”

“Well then we should talk inside.” I stepped closer, putting my hand on hers gripping the door handle.

“What?” She asked, her smile growing wider.

“You know what.” I leaned towards her so that our chest touched and she exhaled a small chuckle. “Stop laughing at me.” I tried to sound serious, but her attitude was infectious and I was already smiling.

“I can’t.” She snickered, covering her mouth with her free hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Goddamnit, girl.” I sighed, stepping away. I put my hands on my hips and looked at the street before turning back towards her - a giggling mess, leaning on the front wall of the house.

“Why are you here?” She finally asked me, still smiling, but no longer chuckling.

“I wanted to talk to you.” I said, stepping closer once again. “About last night.”

“What about it?” She asked, cocking her eyebrow at me.

“I liked it.” I said leaning my face closer to hers, putting my hands on either sides of her shoulders on the wall behind her.

“Mhm.” I sighed at her half-ass answer. “And?” This time I raised my eyebrow at her teasingly.

“And I wanna do it again.” I said, looking deeply into her shining eyes.

“Why don’t you?” My body reacted faster than my brain when I heard her words. Within a second our lips were connected again and I was tasting the sweet cherry taste of her chapstick.

“Wait.” She breathed out against my lips and I pulled away, only a centimeter. “I don’t- I don’t wanna be fuck buddies or anything like that. I’m not really-”

“Me neither.” I cut her off, scanning her face hungrily.

“Then what do you want?” She asked and I smiled at the sweet pleading audible in her voice.

“I wanna be exclusive.” I cupped her soft face in my hands. “With you.” My hand travelled up to her forehead where I brushed a loose piece of her hair behind her ear, watching her face carefully for any switch in emotion, but there was none. She was still smiling, looking me in the eye with the softest of gazes. I fluttered my eyelids slowly, feeling a soft blush come onto my cheeks. “I think it’d be really cute.”

“You think?” She asked, letting her eyelashes fall a little lower, making her expression change from sweet to sultry in an instant.

“Don’t dodge my questions.” I said in a jokingly warning tone, smiling a little wider. She raised her eyebrow at me, coming back to the cute teasing vibe.

“You didn’t ask a single-” I shook my head and put my thumb on her bottom lip.

“Just say ‘Yes, Jimin. I’ll be your girlfriend.” I moved my finger, making her lips open and close as I pretended she said what I wanted to hear from her so badly.

With my finger still over her now closed lips she smiled sweetly and pressed on the door handle.

“You should come in.” She said opening the door with one hand and pulling me in by the hem of my shirt. Her hands travelled to mine as she walked backwards with her eyes focused on me.

“(Y/N), no boys in-” A female voice called out as soon as I stepped through the threshold of the sorority house. I didn't even have time to look over at whoever was speaking, because (Y/N) grabbed my hand and led me up the grand staircase.

“He’s my boyfriend.” She called out casually to the other girl and I cocked my eyebrow at her teasingly.

“Am I now?” I asked, looking up at her a couple of steps higher than me.

“Shut up.” She chuckled, glancing down at me.

Day 17

I looked around the lecture hall I haven’t been in for ages. In search of an empty seat I scanned the room finally noticing (Y/N). She was sitting in the back, with her feet on the chair, knees up to her chest, scrolling through her phone mindlessly.

“Hey, babe.” I breathed out sitting in the empty seat beside her. She looked up at me confused, as if she was expecting for someone else, but quickly her surprised expression turned into a happy one.

“Hey.” She said sweetly, leaning over to give me a kiss. “I swear this is the first time I’ve seen you in this class.” She chuckled going back to her phone.

“Because this is my first time in this class.” I explained, unashamed about the fact.

Jungkook’s P.O.V.

I pushed open the lecture hall’s door and my eyes immediately shot up to scan through the back seats where I would usually sit with (Y/N). I quickly found her sitting in the very last row, but was unpleasantly surprised not to notice an empty seat beside her and even more than surprised when I recognised the guy sitting next to her was none other than my best friend Jimin. Did she just break our unspoken agreement of holding a seat for each other in our shared classes for him? For him? Shaking my head I walked towards the first empty seat I saw and pulled out my phone.

11:13 [Jungkook] >:(

11:15 [(Y/N)] what?

11:15 [Jungkook] figure it out

I tapped my foot nervously looking at the three moving dots in the corner of my screen. After a moment they disappeared and I sighed in annoyance. After a couple minutes of patient waiting I decided to take the matter into my own hands.

11:24 [Jungkook] ok ill tell u. u didnt save a seat for me and i had to sit in the front row

11:26 [(Y/N)] i did save u a seat. jimin just came i and took it xd

11:26 [Jungkook] shouldve chased him away

11:27 [(Y/N)] i will next time

I smiled for a moment at the small victory, but it’s sweet taste didn’t drown out the bitterness I still felt inside. I haven’t really spoken to Jimin since arguing with him at our match last week. I’ve had more than enough time to think about what both him and I said that day, but I didn’t. In actuality I decided to ignore the way I felt and with that, ignore Jimin… But now, faced with him and (Y/N) looking ‘friendly’, as he put it, sitting together in the back of the class I couldn’t push it all down anymore. Before I could stop myself my thoughts took me back to the moment I saw (Y/N) in the bleachers at last week’s game. I was so happy to see her. Why?

I shook my head, trying to stop myself from thinking it, but it seemed impossible. We’re friends. We’ve always been friends. I literally friendzoned her like two weeks ago I can’t- I don’t- I… I looked over my shoulder towards the back of the room. She was still sitting next to Jimin, showing him something on her phone. They were close, awfully close.

Turning back forward to face the professor’s presentation I tilted my head trying to find an explanation for why I was so upset by that. An explanation other than the obvious that came to my mind.

Day 22

(Y/N)’s P.O.V.

I skipped down the dark wooden staircase typing up a text in the groupchat I had with my best girlfriends. I walked to the heavy oak door and pulled on the goldish handle. The door made a loud creaking noise as it always did. I already told Jimin about a hundred times they should get it fixed, but he never brought the issue up with their House Manager.

“(Y/N)?” I heard someone call my name from behind me. I turned in place and my eyes were met with the familiar warmth of Jungkook’s brown irises. I smiled looking at him, standing with a clueless expression in the middle of the living room to my left.

“Hey.” I said sweetly, not letting go of the cold metallic handle.

Somehow I forgot Jungkook also lived here. I came here so often to see Jimin and never saw him here so it just… Slipped my mind.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, taking a couple of steps closer.

“Well, I was just leaving.” I pointed to the door with my phone in my hand, playing dumb. He shook his head with a slight smile and I realised my heart didn’t flutter at the sight as it used to just a couple of weeks ago.

“Yeah, but why?” He asked, stepping closer.

“Oh, Jimin.” I said with a chuckle of pretend realisation. Jungkook’s face seemed to have dropped a little as he heard my vague explanation.

“Oh.” He sighed, still looking me in the eyes.

“I haven’t seen you in a long time.” I said leaning on the half open door and he scratched the back of his neck and again… Nothing. Not even one butterfly in my stomach at the sight of his flexing bicep or his small bunny-like smile.

“Yeah, I guess.” He leaned on the door frame. The proximity in which we stood meant nothing to me at this point and I couldn’t be prouder of myself. Am I really over this boy? Wow.

“How’s the fraternity life?” I asked smiling up at him, the soft summer’s breeze came through the door ruffling his fringe a little.

“It’s… Good.” He finally answered, unconvincingly.

“I’m glad.” I said, not really wanting to hear more from him right now. “Actually, I have a question.” I took a step outside and he turned to the side to still see me while leaning on the tall door frame. “Are you going to be here tomorrow night?” I turned back towards him, flipping my hair over my shoulder. “At the party I mean.”

“I live here, so… Yeah.” He sighed. Why did he sound so goddamn tired? “Why?” He asked, putting his hands in his pockets and flexing his arms ever so slightly - a trick boys did to make their muscles seem bigger when talking to a girl. I smiled at his silly actions.

“I didn’t want to be here alone, that’s all.” I lied swiftly.

“Well, Jimin’s gonna be here as w- wait.” He squinted his eyes at me. “You’re thinking of going?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly. “Don’t look so surprised.” I added with a chuckle, taking a step away from him and towards the steps down from the big front porch. “I’m a known party girl with a reputation to uphold.”

“Yeah, but not in the week prior to finals.” He said smiling at me with disbelief.

“Well, tomorrow is kind of… Mandatory for Alpha Psis.” As I finished my sentence I turned my back to the boy and skipped down the three steps from the stone porch to the paved lane.

“Who are you?” He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest, again flexing his arms.

“Your worst nightmare from now on.” I said shooting him a serious glare over my shoulder before walking away making sure to sway my hips a little harder than usual. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you, Alpha Psi.” He called from behind my back and for the entirety of my walk down the lane connecting his frat house to the sidewalk of the street I didn’t hear him close the heavy oak door.

Day 23

The moment I heard Lisa’s footsteps on the wooden floor of the corridor separating our bedrooms I knew she was going to accuse me of underdressing or something of that sort.

“Really?” She said, sitting down on my bed behind me as I put my large hoop earrings on, standing by the full length mirror leaned by one of the walls of my bedroom.

I eyed her outfit in the reflection and bit my lip. She was wearing skin tight black shorts with fishnet tights underneath. Her band t-shirt was half tucked into her bottoms, revealing the thick leather belt holding them up. To top it off she wore a pair of heavy combat boots that gave her at least an extra five centimeters of height.

“Okay, help me.” I said letting my arms fall to my sides in resignation as her gaze drilled into my back mercilessly.

“It’s… Fine.” She said gesturing to my figure dressed in a tight mini skirt and spaghetti-strap crop top, both in black just like what she was wearing. “Maybe with different shoes?” She said more to herself than me as she looked at my thigh high boots. I rested my hands on my hips, looking at her warningly. She knew well that I hated it when she commented on my style. “Okay, okay. Just one thing. Just try it and if you don’t like it go as you are and I won’t say a thing.” She murmured walking to my closet. She rummaged through the boxes of shoes at the bottom of it and pulled out a bright orange one.

“Nike’s?” I asked, taking the box and sitting down at my bed.

“And these.” She tossed a pair of white Nike socks from my dresser and I chuckled. It was so her style - wearing a sexy outfit with a pair of branded sneakers of an opposite colour.

I took off my high heeled boots and slipped on the comfortable sock and sneakers. Their bright white colour contrasted well with the darkness of my outfit. I scanned the whole thing in the mirror and nodded to myself.

“Okay, you were right.” I finally said and she nodded in satisfaction. “This time.” I added wagging my finger at her jokingly.

“Girls! We’re leaving in a minute!” One of your sorority sisters called from downstairs.

Since becoming part of the greek life I rarely went to parties alone and tonight was no exception. All the Alpha Psi’s were going to show out tonight at the annual ‘finals start off’ party at the Theta Sigma Phi fraternity house - also known as Jimin and Jungkook’s house. Living in the Fraternity-Sorority Row we didn’t have to take a car to get there. We walked out of our house in an intimidating formation - close to thirty girls walking down the street, dressed to the nines with bottles of champagne and whatever other alcohol in their hands, making people take second glances as we strutted on the hard asphalt.

With Lisa holding my hand and giggling about something into my ear I walked confidently through the open oak door. As I’ve been to the house many times before I led us straight to the kitchen to get us both a glass, or better a bottle of something strong. As I was about to grab a bottle of tequila from the counter I heard my name being called through the loud music.

“(Y/N)?” I turned around and locked eyes with Jungkook. The hair he had tied in a messy bun at the top of his head yesterday was falling on the sides of his face in soft waves right now. He looked me up and down, exhaling loudly. “What happened to you?” Not getting an immediate answer he shook his head and walked up to me, opening his arms.

Shocked by the sudden hug I reciprocated the motion letting my hand travel down his back. As he pulled away he noticed Lisa by my side and with his arm still draped around my shoulder he introduced himself to her and vice versa.

“So, what happened?” He pressed, still looking at me with a mixture of confusion and satisfaction lining his eyes. From where he was standing he probably had the perfect view down my skimpy top, but I couldn’t care less. “You look fucking great.” He breathed out heavily and both Lisa and I giggled.

“As I always do.” I shot back with a smirk waving his hand off my shoulder.

“Of course.” He quickly assured me. “Honestly.” He shook his head looking at me with his doe-like eyes. “I didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

“I told you: Alpha Psi’s are coming. And since I am one…” I shrugged and smiled lightly at him. “I’m here.”

“And I’m so fucking pleased you are.” He said smiling down at me with his bunny teeth.

“Ladies.” Another voice called, this time from behind our backs. “Hey, Lisa.”

“Jimin.” She exclaimed with a bright smile and kissed the boy on the cheek as he approached her.

“(Y/N).” He said, turning towards me with nothing but adoration in his shining irises. “Beautiful as always.” I smiled at his compliment and kissed his cheek lightly as his hand glided down my waist only to stop right above my butt to rest there comfortably. “I’m happy you made it girls.” He looked at our empty hands and then at Jungkook. “Jungkook…” He hummed disapprovingly. “You haven’t offered our guests drinks?” He asked in a scolding tone before looking at Lisa and I with his eyebrow raised. “The usual?” We both confirmed and he reached to the counter beside him to make us drinks.

I couldn’t help, but realise that Jungkook stiffened standing next to me. I also couldn’t help, but let myself wonder for a moment why he did that. Was he angered by something? Uncomfortable maybe? Was it me? Was it the fact that if we hadn’t bumped into each other yesterday he wouldn’t even know I was coming? Was it because I was close with his best friend, his fraternity brother? Closer than I’ve ever been with him even though we’ve known each other for barely a couple of weeks when Jungkook and I went as far back as primary school…

“Here you go. With double shots.” Jimin said, passing us both plastic blue cups. I immediately took a sip of the bitter mixture, letting my throat burn as I swallowed the liquid.

“You girls want a tour of the place?” Jungkook asked in a cocky tone, leaning on the kitchen island with his arms across his chest, biceps flexed.

“Ah, Lisa maybe.” Jimin answered him before any of us could open our mouths. “(Y/N)’s been here tons of times.” Jungkook’s eyes travelled between Jimin and I frantically as his friend spoke. “She knows the place like her own.” He bumped my shoulder with his own shooting me a knowing grin, before wrapping his arm around my figure, pulling me close. I reciprocated the expression without hesitation, despite feeling Jungkook’s fiery gaze on me.

Jungkook’s P.O.V.

“So you’re here often?” I asked, tightening my crossed arms over my chest.

“Mhm.” (Y/N) hummed as she took another sip of her drink.

“Why?” I blurted out, not caring how rude that might have sounded.

“Why wouldn’t she be when her boyfriend lives here?” Jimin asked rhetorically and I raised my eyebrows, looking between the both of them, trying to hide my shock.

“You’re dating?” I asked, wishing that they’d just say they were joking and it was all a bad prank, but no. (Y/N) smiled lightly my way before averting her eyes to Jimin, her lips moved and so did his, but I didn’t hear them. Suddenly I noticed his hand resting on the small of her back and thought back to the moment when he asked me for her number a couple of weeks back, to the moment she got him as her project partner in Sociology, the moment when I saw her in the stands at our game. How could I be so goddamn stupid?

Day 24

I stumbled through the front door onto the porch of the house. I looked at the concrete lane leading to the street and suddenly felt really dizzy. Holding onto the railing I slid down the front steps and walked the front lawn. I sighed deeply before bending down and puking onto the ground. I heard someone squirm in the background, but I couldn’t care less about whoever saw me right now. All I cared about was the sweet sound of (Y/N)’s voice ringing in my head. She called my name over and over again.

“Jungkook.” I felt someone put their hand on my shoulder. I quickly straightened up, which turned out to be a huge mistake since it made my head spin ten times faster than it was before. “Woah. Hold up.” Small soft hands grabbed on both of my shoulders holding me in place. I fluttered my eyes open trying to focus my vision on the person before me.

“(Y/N)?” I asked unsure if it was really her.

“Yeah.” She said, frowning at me.

In that moment I remembered all the times we walked to our dorm together - sometimes not talking, sometimes holding each other up as we were too drunk to walk straight by ourselves, sometimes holding hands… How I missed it.

“You have someone to walk you to your dorm tonight?” She chuckled at my ridiculous question.

“Don’t worry.” She said pulling on my arm and guiding me back towards the house. “I came here with an army of girls. One of them is bound to be walking back to the house when I’ll be.” She sat me down on the steps and stood in front of me with her arms across her chest.

“I’d love to see that house of yours.” I said grinning up at her and she exhaled a small laugh.

“I bet you would.” She said with a smirk. “Don’t move okay. I’ll be right back.” She walked back inside the house before I could come up with even a word of protest.

I put my face in my hands. My forehead was sweaty. I felt disgusted with myself. Did I just puke in front of (Y/N)? When the realisation hit me it was too late to do anything about it. I wiped my face with the sleeve of my t-shirt and shivered in the night's cold wind.

“Seokjin’s coming to drag you upstairs.” I jumped up at the sound of her voice as she stepped in front of me again. I opened my mouth to apologise for my behaviour, but nothing of that sort ended up coming out of it.

“You and Jimin… Are dating.” I muttered, looking up at her through my half open eyes. (Y/N) just hummed in agreement to my statement, which made me even more aggravated. “You come here often to see him and never to see me.” She just stood there with her arms over her chest, looking at me with her beautiful eyes. “Beautiful, shiny eyes.” I tried to stand up, but she pushed me down by my shoulder and since I couldn’t really hold my balance well I fell back down onto the steps. I blinked repeatedly to focus my eyes on her. “Say something.”

“Like what?” She asked immediately with a pretectional smile. “You’re really drunk, Jungkook.”

“Not that.” I groaned, resting my head on the railing next to me. “Say- I don’t know.” I sighed, feeling close to puking again. “Uh, I can’t hate you.” (Y/N) frowned at the sound of that word.

“Why would you?” She asked, tightening her arms around herself. I looked up into her eyes and knew that though I was drunk beyond understanding this was the right moment to tell her everything.

“Hey, big guy.” I felt a pat on my back and leaned forward at the impact. “Let’s get you to bed.” Jin pulled me up and put my arm over his shoulder. Feeling my stomach rise to my throat I thought it was the safest option to keep my mouth shut and concentrate on moving my legs in unison with his. I glanced towards (Y/N) one more time before Jin dragged me back inside the house. She looked disappointed.

Day 26

(Y/N)’s P.O.V.

“I’m telling you he’s pissed.” Jimin whispered in a conspiratorial tone.

We were sitting together in the back of the lecture hall, waiting for the professor to call our names and read out our grades for the project, pretending we’re listening to his words of praise or disapproval as he was grading other students before us when in fact we were both focused on Jungkook, who was sitting a couple of rows ahead of us. Unfortunately we couldn’t read much out of his back and broad shoulders.

“He was pissed when I said we’re friends, now he’s pissed we’re more.” Jimin added, shifting closer to me in his seat.

“No way.” I whispered back, sure of my words.

“(Y/N), I’m not kidding.” We looked at each other and I realised how serious he felt about the matter. “He hasn’t spoken to me since that one game you came to.”

“He’s got some fucked up siblings syndrome, that’s all.” I brushed him off unconvincingly. Jimin shook his head, shifting his gaze back to the back of his best friend’s head.

“I think it’s more.” He bit his lip.

“What do you mean?” I asked, scrunching my brows.

“I think he’s jealous.” He explained and I barely stopped myself from scoffing out a chuckle.

“Of what?” Jimin looked at me with one of his eyebrows raised, as if he was challenging me to guess the answer.

“You.” He finally breathed out.

“No.” I shot him down immediately. “He’s the one that friendzoned me, remember?” I added, cringing at the memory of going through that rejection and then telling Jimin all about it when we started dating. “Why would he be-”

“Maybe he changed his mind.” He interrupted me before I could finish my sentence and I shook my head in disbelief.

“Don’t think so.” Jimin sighed at my answer. It seemed there was no way to convince him he wasn’t right. “And even if he did it’s a little too late for that.” I added, shoving his shoulder with mine jokingly before planting a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“It’s still weird.” He said after a moment. “I want my best friend back, but he’s acting like a total asshole.” I sighed, knowing how hard it must be for him.

“I know.” I rubbed his hand as I held it in mine. “If there was anything-”

“Actually, there is.” He cut me off though I haven’t finished my declaration of help yet. “You could, you know, ask him.”

“Ask him what? If he likes me?” I looked at him with a bit of aversion.

“Yeah.” His voice sounded so timid all of a sudden I didn’t know what to say to him.

For the next ten minutes Jimin and I worked on drafting the perfect message to send to Jungkook, but ended up typing up the shortest of the ones we thought of. Long paragraphs weren’t really our thing anyway.

11:35 [(Y/N)] are u mad at jimin?

11:35 [Jungkook] no

11:35 [(Y/N)] he thinks ur mad at him and it makes him sad

Jimin shoved my shoulder as I sent the message before consulting him.

“You are though.” I said, rubbing his leg comfortingly and he just sighed.

11:35 [Jungkook] im not

11:35 [(Y/N)] then why are u avoiding him

11:36 [Jungkook] im not

11:36 [(Y/N)] u are

11:36 [Jungkook] no

11:36 [(Y/N)] Jungkook come on

11:36 [(Y/N)] are u mad at me then?

11:37 [Jungkook] no

11:37 [(Y/N)] then what the fuck is up with u?

11:37 [Jungkook] nothing

11:37 [(Y/N)] bull

11:37 [(Y/N)] talk to me

11:37 [(Y/N)] now

11:38 [Jungkook] can u see me after class?

11:38 [(Y/N)] yes

11:38 [Jungkook] without Jimin

11:38 [(Y/N)] okay

“Why’d you say that?” Jimin hissed into my ear.

“Because.” I locked my phone so he couldn’t read my text over my shoulder anymore. “He’s clearly not feeling confident about himself right now. I’ll just talk to him for a minute and that’s it.” Jimin bit his lip. He looked concerned. “Don’t worry. You’ll have your friend back in no time.”

“It’s not that.” He shook his head and grabbed my hand in his. “I’m worried he might actually like you and-”

“And then what?” I asked, also beginning to feel a little nervous right now. “It’ll be awkward for a while and then it will all go back to normal.” I squeezed his hand and took my other one to cup his chin, bringing his gaze up to meet mine. “I swear.”

Jimin and I walked out of the lecture hall with almost a hundred percent for our project. I gave him a quick kiss before he left to go to his next class and I went on to talk to Jungkook. The other boy, though along with his project partner he got the best grade in our year, walked out the lecture hall’s door with his head down and shoulders sunk by the weight of his backpack.

“You okay?” I asked as he walked up to me with a more than tired expression. Instead of saying something he just shrugged. I brought my eyebrows into a slight frown looking at him. Who was he? Not the Jungkook I fell for months ago, that’s for sure. “So? Tell me. What’s up?” I pressed him as we stood in the, now empty, hallway. Jungkook sighed deeply before opening his mouth.

“Can we walk?” He asked weakly and I nodded.

We walked outside of the building and slowly made our way through the campus grounds. I let us spend around two or three minutes in silence before I spoke again.

“So?” I started vaguely.

Jungkook’s P.O.V.

When we were texting during class I felt ready, but now faced with the situation telling (Y/N) how I felt seemed like an impossible task.

“So?” She asked again as we walked through the campus.

I looked up into the sky breathing in and exhaled slowly as I brought my gaze back to the ground. This wasn’t the time.

“I’m just stressed.” She scoffed at my words, clearly not buying them.

“Yeah, and?” She pressed, looking done as she walked next to me.

She was doing it for Jimin, not for me. She had plenty of other friends, she didn’t need me. He must have asked her to talk to me, make me come to my senses and stop being so overprotective, so possesive, so… Jealous.

“This isn’t easy for me.” I said truthfully and this time it was her that exhaled a heavy sigh instead of me.

“I know.” She was looking ahead and not at me. “It’s hard for Jimin too, you know? He really misses you.” I swallowed loudly thinking of my best friend. He wasn’t the one at fault, it was all on me. I was the one that realised his feelings all too late.

“I know.” I muttered, looking down at my shoes.

“Then what is it?” (Y/N) asked, the concern audible and sincere in her soft voice. “Why are you not talking to him?” She pressed. “He says you leave the room when he walks in and refuse to go to parties when you know he’s coming. He’s really hurt.” Hearing her say it made me feel like a real dick.

“I know.” I whined. “I’m sorry. I-”

“I’m not the one you should be apologising to.” She was right, but it was so hard to look at Jimin right now. I hated him, even though I knew well that I shouldn’t.

“I know.” I admitted tiredly.

“Good.” She said sternly and glanced my way, her expression softening once again. “But really, Jungkook.” She stopped and sighed as I looked at her running her hand through her hair carelessly.

“Hm?” I hummed, wanting her to continue.

“Why did you stop talking to him?” She asked and looked me in the eye. I swallowed slowly, knowing how hard it’ll be to lie to her right now. All she wanted was for me to get along with my best friend again, my frat bro, her boyfriend… “What happened?”

“I-” I took a deep breath and then my tongue started moving before I even had time to come up with the words in my head. “It’s just we weren’t doing well in the playoffs and you know how I am about football.” I glanced at her nervously, she wasn’t too convinced yet. “And then he was busy hanging out with you and I blamed you for him not being in perfect shape when in fact it wasn’t just his fault, ‘cause like I wasn’t in that great of a state either, physically and mentally.” Shooting her another look now I was sure she believed me. Her eyebrows were knotted in concern, her mouth curved into a slight frown. “And finally getting into Theta Sigma Phi and moving there was also such a hassle. Don’t get me wrong I was really fucking happy, but also just so tired after all the hazing and everything and then I found out you two were going out.” I made a dramatic pause to take a deep breath. “It was weird. Two of my friends…” I swallowed my pride and feelings prior to saying the next sentence that came out of my mouth. “He’s like a bother to me and like literally my frat brother right now and you’re like a- like a sister and it was all just… A bit much, I guess.” I was impressed at my own ability to come up with such an elaborate and believable lie so quickly.

“I’m sorry you felt so overwhelmed.” Right as I heard the heartfelt hurt and sorrow in (Y/N)’s tone as she spoke I felt like the world’s biggest asshole, but what else could I do? Confess? I couldn’t do that to my best friend. “And that both Jimin and I had part in making you feel that way.” She looked up at me with a half smile that I quickly reciprocated. I wanted to tell her it’s fine and she shouldn’t worry, but my stomach was in knots and my tongue tied. “I really hope you two can work this out rather quickly. He wants his best bro back and I want to see him happy.” Of course she does. He’s her boyfriend. She’s doing this for him. “You too for that matter.” My eyes shot up to her and I smiled again, this time sincerely.

Day 31

After the official announcement of the winning team and all the hand shaking and picture taking I walked off the field with the rest of the team, still smiling widely. It was the last game of the summer season and we won. I couldn’t be happier. Hoseok, our team captain, announced we’re going to a celebratory party at one of the frat houses in our university’s Row. I shrugged not recognising the name of the frat and went into the showers, tired after the long game, but still full of joy. After I got myself cleaned up I collected my things and along with the rest of the team walked out of the locker room. As the first guys made their way out I heard whistles and howling sounds.

“Get a room!” Hoseok called teasingly.

As I looked above his shoulder with a cheeky grin ready to comment on whatever was going on in the corridor I felt my spirit shrink inside my chest.

“Piss off!” Jimin yelled back to our captain with a satisfied grin, wrapping his arms around embarrassed (Y/N). “Don’t listen to them, babe. They’re just jealous.” He chuckled, brushing her hair out of her face and he couldn’t be more right…

As we walked by I glanced at them quickly one more time, an act I regretted almost instantly. I saw (Y/N) cupping Jimin’s smiling face in her hands and bringing him towards her to share a kiss. I bit down hard on my lip and turned away. I was on good terms with Jimin again and I didn’t want to fuck that up. Not just because he was my best friend, but also, because I didn’t want to upset her, (Y/N). My unfortunate crush.

When will I get over you and forget the sweet feeling of your lips on mine? The lips that were now Jimin’s to kiss, the lips that I kissed once and pushed away. How could I be so stupid?

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fandomrewrites · 4 years ago

Text

Season 3a; Episode 11: Alpha Pact

Hello all! After this one there is only one more chapter of season 3a! If you guys are liking the story and want to be added to the taglist let me know! As always constructive criticism is welcomed. And please make sure to answer my pinned post if you like the 100!

Season 3a; Episode 11: Alpha Pact

Pairings: Scott McCall x Twin Sister, Lydia Martin x Best Friend

Warnings: panic attack, swearing

Word Count: 4,112

Season 3a masterlist

Hearing someone running down the stairs, I turned to see Stiles. "Where's Scott? Where's my mom?"

Stiles sighs, "Jennifer took your mom. And Scott..." He trails off.

"Stiles, what happened?"

"He went with Deucalion." My mouth falls open in shock, unsure of how to process this new information. Rather than thinking about it right now I decided to turn back around to try and get Derek to wake up.

After a few more agonizingly long minutes Derek slowly blinks his eyes open. Spotting me and Stiles above him, he pushes himself into a sitting position and asks, "Where is she?"

"Jennifer? Gone." Stiles answers.

"With my mom." I quietly add, still trying to process the fact that my only two family members are with psychopaths.

"She took her?" Derek questions.

Stiles nods, "Yeah. And if that wasn't enough of a kick to the balls, Scott also left with Deucalion. So get up. The police are coming and we need to get you the hell out of here."

Stiles and I both help Derek off of the elevator floor, "What about Cora?" The Alpha asks, concerned for his sister.

"She made it out with Peter and Isaac." I answer as we make our way to the exit.

"You should go with him, (Y/N/N)." Stiles speaks up.

I quickly shake my head, "No, I'm staying with you." Stiles sighs but nods.

Before Derek gets the chance to leave, I pull him into a quick hug. "Be careful. And please keep us updated."

Derek awkwardly pats my back, "Uh, yeah. You too."

Stiles raises his eyebrow in question once Derek is gone, "What? I'm his favorite. I can get away with doing things like that." I shrug in response.

Stiles shakes his head, though a small smile forms on his lips. "Let's go wait for the cops." He says, leading me over to the waiting room chairs.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles and I sat side-by-side holding tightly to each other's hand. We needed some sort of comfort since both of our parents were taken by Jennifer and Scott decided to be friendly with the demon wolf.

We looked up at the sound of the hospital doors opening. My mouth fell open as I saw an FBI agent making his way towards us, "Do you think he saw me? Can I make a run for it?" I quietly ask Stiles.

"I'm pretty sure he saw you." He gave my hand a squeeze. "I'll be right here for you the whole time."

Once the Agent approaches I quickly look down at mine and Stiles entwined hands, refusing to make eye contact. I start focusing on my breathing, counting inside my head but also focusing on the words exchanged between the two guys near me.

"A Stilinski at the center of all this mess. What a shocker." My jaw clenches at his words and I can feel Stiles becoming more annoyed by the second. "Though I do wish you weren't here, (Y/N)."

Neither Stiles nor I answer. "Do you think you can give me some answers without the usual level of sarcasm?"

"If you can ask them without the usual level of stupid." Stiles replies, glaring at the man.

I start to play with Stiles fingers as I hear the Agent speak once more, "Where's your dad and why has nobody been able to contact him?"

"I don't know. Haven't seen him in hours." Stiles answers.

"Is he drinking again?"

"What do you mean again? He never had to stop." Stiles spits out.

"That was you." I mumbled under my breath, but both men heard me.

The agent sighs but chooses to ignore my words, "But he did have to slow down. Is he drinking like he used to?"

"How about next time I see him I give him a field sobriety test? We'll do the alphabet starting with F and ending with U." Stiles angrily says, making me smile lightly.

"How about you just tell me what the hell happened here?" The agent asks, trying a different approach.

"We don't know. We were stuck in the elevator the whole time." Stiles answers, sticking to the lie we came up with earlier.

"You're not the one who put the name on the doors, are you?"

For the first time in the conversation I look up, exchanging a look with Stiles. "What name?" We ask together.

"Argent. Do you know who that is?" Stiles and I both nod in response, not feeling the need to answer considering the agent probably already knows who they are too.

"Well you can leave Stiles, I would like to talk with my daughter."

"I stopped being your daughter the day you left me and Scott. If Stiles is leaving I am too. And you can't make me stay." I glare at the man. I look back to Stiles and tug on his hand, "Come on."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles and I quickly make our way to the Argent's to let them know that their name was left on the elevator doors at the hospital. "The word is Guardian, Allison. More than anyone, you know that's a role I haven't exactly lived up to lately." Mr. Argent says to his daughter.

We move down the hall, walking into Mr. Argent's office. "But she took Mrs. McCall and Stiles' father. That's not a coincidence." Allison argues.

"I'd also consider the fact someone put your name in large block letters on the elevator doors. That kind of felt like a pretty big warning to me." Stiles adds.

"I think it might have been Morrell. I think she knows a lot more than she lets on. She might even be trying to help us."

"Well she needs to get on that a lot faster since the lunar eclipse is less than two freaking nights away."

Stiles fell into a chair as I chewed on my bottom lip. "Stiles, don't give up hope." Mr. Argent says, looking at the teenager.

"They could already be dead."

"I don't think so. There's something about Jennifer's tactics. It's like she's still positioning. Still moving pieces into place."

"And you're one of them." Allison says.

"Okay." Mr. Argent sighs, "Then let's not wait around to see her next move."

He lays out a map then continues speaking, "Everything she's done has been on a Telluric Current. So Melissa and the Sheriff have to be somewhere on one of the Currents, right?"

"That would make sense." I answer. Though Mr. Argent is looking at Stiles.

"Stiles, if we're going to find them, we need your help."

"You seriously want to go after her? Have you even seen what she's been able to do? She tossed Scott across the room like it was nothing." I place a comforting hand on Stiles shoulder as he speaks, understanding his concern and frustration.

"What if she just takes you like the others? I mean, no offense, but what's the difference between you and them?" Stiles continues.

"I'm carrying a .45." Mr. Argent places the gun on top of the map. "Maybe she can heal from a shot to the leg and a few slashes to the face. But, personally, I'd like to see how she holds up with half her skull blown off. We've got one priority right now. Find your mom," He says looking at me.

He then turns to Stiles, "And your dad. We've got a map and every clue we need to figure this out. The only thing we don't have is time. Which is why I need all three of you."

"We can do this. We have to." I say, giving Stiles’ shoulder a squeeze.

Stiles nods in response, "Where do we start?" We all gather around the map as Mr. Argent pulls out a black light.

"The place where the sacrifices have been committed have usually been different from where the bodies have been found. I think the placement has to do with the strength of the Current. So there's the School, the Animal Clinic, the Bank."

"What about the motel?" Stiles asks.

"I don't think she'd take them that far."

"This still looks like too much ground to cover. We could spend weeks looking at all the possibilities." Allison says.

"She must have some sort of pattern that she follows." I add in.

"She wouldn't use the same place twice, would she?" Stiles questions.

"Only if she didn't succeed the first time." Mr. Argent says. He moves his finger to point at the bank.

"Scott's boss?" Allison asks her father.

"Deaton. It was her only failure. That could mean something."

"So we should go check it out, right?"

"Definitely."

"But that's just one place so far. We need more help." Stiles says.

"What about Lydia?"

"Lydia? What can she do?" Mr. Argent asks.

"She's found a few of the bodies without meaning to. It has to be related to the supernatural but we're not sure what she is yet." I answer. I then turn to look at Allison, "We can try to see if she knows anything but she still doesn't know how to control it. And if they are still alive she may not even be able to help."

Allison and her father nod. They then turn to start collecting weapons so that they can go to the bank and try to find my mom and the Sheriff. Stiles and I look on in awe as we see the two Argent's pull out weapon after weapon. "I thought you guys were retired?" Stiles asks.

"Retired, yes." Mr. Argent says, "Defenseless, no. Now make sure your phone's on. If you hear from Scott, let us know immediately."

"I'm thinking that's going to be kind of unlikely." At Stiles' words, he, Allison and I share a look.

"The three of you, try to remember he's just doing what he thinks is right. I've seen that seventeen year old boy come through more often than most men I've known. Don't give up yet."

"I'll never give up on my brother." I say, a look of determination on my face. Stiles gives a nod as we turn our attention to Allison.

She isn't paying attention to us but rather looking towards the door. We follow her gaze to see Isaac, "How did you get in here?" Mr. Argent asks.

"Through her window." Isaac replies, glancing at Allison. "Sorry. I just. I want to help. I can't shoot a gun or use a crossbow. But I'm starting to get pretty good with these." He opens his hand to reveal his claws.

"We'll take it." Mr. Argent says.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles and I are now sitting in Lydia's room, telling her about what occured at the hospital. "I don't believe it. Scott can't really be with them. He can't be." She says, shaking her head.

"You didn't see the look on his face. It was the same one I saw on my mother when the doctors told her there was nothing they could do. It was just total hopelessness." Stiles replies.

"I still think he'll come through. It's Scott we're talking about. He'll never do anything to harm someone." I say.

"What do I do?" Lydia asks, "I mean I get that I'm like some kind of human Geiger counter for death. But I don't know how to turn it on and off yet. All I know is she tried to kill me because of..." She trails off.

"Because of what? Lydia?" I ask, lightly grabbing my best friend's hand.

"She called me a Banshee. (Y/N/N), you were on the right track. I'm a Banshee. She was surprised by it. What if that's not why she tried to kill me?"

"Then why did she?" Stiles questions.

"That's what we need to find out."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles, Lydia, and I walk through the school hallways. Lydia keeps glancing at her phone, "Aiden's not texting me back."

The sound of my phone beeping stops her from saying anything else, "What? Oh God, what is it now?" She asks me as I look at the text.

"It's Isaac. Jennifer took Allison's father. That means she has all three of them now." I reply. I stare down at my phone and quickly reply only to shove it in my pocket a second later.

Lydia's voice breaks me out of my thoughts, "Stiles? Are you okay?"

I quickly turn to face him, seeing that his breathing is becoming irregular. "No." He mutters out.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"He's having a panic attack." I answer, already knowing the symptoms.

I gently take him by his arm as I bring him into the locker room. "Just think about something else. Anything else." Lydia says as she follows us into the room.

"Like?" Stiles asks.

I lower him to a sitting position as Lydia continues, "Happy things. Good things. Friends, family- I mean- not family."

"I love you Lyds, but please shut the fuck up." I say as gently as possible.

"I can't- I can't." Stiles says, breath becoming more rapid. His hands are placed firmly on his knees. Without much thought I gently grab his face, forcing him to look at me.

"Stiles. Look at me. Focus on my voice. Match my breathing." He gasps for breath, still not being able to stop the panic attack. Finally, I close the distance between our faces and kiss him.

After a brief moment, he gently begins to kiss back. Our lips slowly part, Stiles' body relaxes as he opens his eyes to look at me. "How did you do that?" He quietly asks.

"Holding your breath helps you regain control of your breathing. When I kissed you, you held your breath."

"I did?"

"You did."

"How did you know that holding your breath helps?"

"I started having panic attacks after my dad left. Plus I used the same trick on Isaac not too long ago." I shrug.

"Thanks, that was really smart."

"It was nothing." I shrug once more.

Lydia speaks up, "Well if I was really smart I'd tell you to sign up for a few sessions with the Guidance Counselor. Both of you."

"Morrell." Stiles says.

"She knows more than you'd expect."

I scoff, "Yeah, you can say that again." Stiles and I share a knowing look. I help him stand back up so that we can go talk with Morrell.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Once we made it to Morrell's office we saw a girl waiting, "You here for Ms. Morrell?" Stiles asks.

"No, I thought this was gym class." I would have laughed at her sarcastic reply if we weren't in such a rush to find the woman in question.

"Sweetheart, we're not in the mood for funny. Do you know where she is?" Lydia questions.

"If I did I wouldn't have been waiting here for twenty minutes. So how about you three back out the door and wait your turn."

"We're not here for a session."

"Well I am. And I've got some serious issues to work on."

"You're Danielle. You're Heather's best friend." Stiles says, realizing who the girl is.

"I was Heather's best friend. We've been working on that issue three times a week."

"Hold on. Did you say Morrell's twenty minutes late?" Lydia asks, bringing the attention back to her.

Danielle nods, "And I don't know why either. She's always on time."

Lydia turns her attention to Stiles and I, "I was seeing her at the beginning of the semester. She was never late. Not even a minute."

"Three guesses on where she is." I say looking at Stiles.

"I want to know what she knows." Stiles replies. He starts rifling through papers on her desk then moves to the filing cabinet when he doesn't find anything. I turn to help as the other two look on in shock.

"What are you two doing?" Danielle asks.

"Trying to find her."

"Those files are private."

"She's kinda right." Lydia pipes in.

"Here's yours." Stiles says, pulling out Lydia's file.

"Let me see that." Lydia grabs the file from Stiles hand. She opens it, looking inside. The rest of us looked over her shoulder to see.

"Wait. That's your drawing."

"Yeah, I know. It's a tree."

"You're good." Danielle says, impressed.

Lydia brightly smiles, "Thank you."

"That's the same one." Stiles says.

I gently pull the drawing out of the file to get a better look as Lydia asks him, "The same as what?"

"The same one I've seen you drawing in class."

"It's a tree. I like drawing trees."

"No, he means it's the same one. Like the exact same." I reply, finally tearing my eyes away from the drawing.

"Let me see your bag." Stiles says. He opens her bag to pull out her notebook. When he opens it we see the same drawing found on page after page. The only difference is the size of each drawing.

"Okay, you can have my session. You've got bigger issues." Danielle replies, she stands up and walks out of the room, though the rest of us don't pay much attention.

"What is this?" Lydia asks, clearly frightened.

Stiles and I are both quiet as we study the drawings, "Wait. What if it's not supposed to be looked at this way?" I speak up. I take one of the drawings and turn it upside down.

"I know where they are." Stiles says.

"The root cellar." I add, voiced laced with disbelief.

After putting Lydia's file back where we found it we rushed out of Morrell's office. "It's the Nemeton. That's where she's keeping them. It has to be."

"(Y/N), Stilinski!" A voice calls from down the hall.

"I'm not dealing with this right now." I say as soon as my eyes meet my fathers.

"I will, don't worry." Stiles reassures.

"We'll go to Derek's. Him and Peter will know where it is." Stiles nods at my words. I grab Lydia's hand as I tug her away.

"Was that your dad?" Lydia asks.

"Yes, I don't want to interact with him anymore than I need to."

*_*_*_*_*_*

I reach to open the loft door without knocking but stop when it slides open to reveal Peter. "You." Lydia says in shock.

"Me." Peter replies.

Lydia's anger rises, "You."

Peter winces at her tone, "Me." He says once more, almost sounding apologetic. "Derek. We have visitors."

Peter steps back to let us in. We walk past him to see Derek beside Cora. "How is she?" I ask, laying a gentle hand on the Alpha's shoulder.

"Not getting any better." He replies. He then turns around to properly face Lydia and I. "What do you girls need?"

We quickly explain the situation to both Peter and Derek and wait for them to reply. Though when they answer, it isn't what we wanted to hear. "You don't know where it is?" Lydia asks, confused.

"We did. After a few memorable experiences, though..." He shares a look with Derek. "Talia- Derek's mother and my older sister- decided she didn't want us ever going back. She knew how dangerous it was. So she took the memory of its location from us."

"So how do we find out where it is?" I ask, my frustration rising.

*_*_*_*_*_*

After leaving Derek's loft we met up with Stiles, Isaac, and Allison at the Animal Clinic. All of us, plus the vet, stood around an exam table, "It has to be on a Telluric Current. Maybe even at the axis of two. Or where all intersect. I know it's where Derek took Paige to die." Stiles speaks, glancing at me as he says the last part.

"My dad and Gerard were there once. But Gerard said it was years ago and he couldn't remember where it was. And my dad obviously isn't going to be able to tell us now." Allison says.

"Mine either."

"She took everyone who would remember." Lydia pipes in.

"Then how do we find this place?" Isaac questions.

"That's the same question I asked Peter and Derek. They didn't have an answer." I reply.

We turn to Deaton, "Doc?" Stiles asks.

Deaton sighs, "There might be a way. But it's dangerous. And most importantly, for it to work... We're going to need Scott."

*_*_*_*_*_*

Stiles, Deaton, and I stood in front of Stiles jeep. The headlights of the car lighting up the darkness around us. Scott steps out from the shadows, slowly making his way over to us. "How did you find out?" Scott asks.

"Lydia. You?" Stiles answers.

"Morrell. But none of the Alphas know where it is either."

"If this works, are you going to tell them?"

"I can't stop Jennifer without them."

"How about we concentrate on finding your parents first?" Deaton pipes in.

Scott nods, "What's the plan?"

"Essentially, you, Allison and Stiles need to be surrogate sacrifices for your parents."

"So we die for them?"

"But he can bring us back." Stiles says. He then turns to Deaton, "You can definitely bring us back, right?"

"Hopefully, yes."

"Hopefully?" I ask, bringing the attention to me.

"You remember the part where I said it was dangerous?" Deaton then turns to Scott, "If it goes right, the three of you will only be dead for a few seconds. But there's something else you need to think about. This is a dangerous thing in more ways than one. You'll be giving power back to the Nemeton. A place that hasn't had power for a long time. When it did, Beacon Hills was quite different. This kind of power is like a magnet."

"A magnet for the supernatural?" I ask.

Deaton nods so Stiles speaks, "Doesn't sound any worse than what we've already seen."

"You'd be surprised what you have yet to see." Deaton ominously says.

"Is that it?" Scott asks, hoping that that's all there is to worry about.

"No. It'll also have an affect on the three of you. You won't be able to see it, but you'll feel it every day for the rest of your lives. It'll be a kind of darkness over your heart. And permanent. Like a scar."

"Like a tattoo." Scott whispers.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Reconvening at the Animal Clinic, Scott, Stiles and Allison step towards the tubs filled with ice. "All right. What did you bring?" Deaton asks the three teenagers.

Stiles holds up his dad's badge, "Jennifer kind of crushed it in her hand. I hammered it out a bit. Still doesn't look great."

"It doesn't have to look good if it has meaning." Deaton's eyes then move to Allison.

She holds up a silver bullet, "Is that an actual silver bullet?" Isaac asks, looking at it cautiously.

"My dad made it. It's sort of a ceremonial thing. When one of us finishes learning all the skills to be a Hunter, you forge your own silver bullet as a testament to the code." Allison replies.

"Scott?" Deaton asks, looking at my twin.

He holds up mom's watch, "My dad gave this to my mom when she first got hired at the hospital. She used to say it was the only thing in their marriage that ever worked."

Stiles looks it over, "It says water-resistant. Not waterproof."

"I don't think she's going to mind if it saves her life."

"Okay, the three of you will get in. Each of us will hold you down until you're essentially... well, dead. But it's not just someone to hold you under. It's someone who can pull you back. Someone with a strong connection to you. A kind of emotional tether."

Lydia immediately starts moving towards Allison while I move towards Scott. "(Y/N), you go with Stiles."

"Scott's my twin though. I'm pretty sure we have the biggest emotional connection." I say, giving the vet a questioning look.

"You'll be able to bring Stiles back and Isaac will be able to bring Scott."

I look in between Scott and Stiles, unsure what to do. Scott gives me an encouraging nod, "It's okay."

We all take our places and the trio steps into the tubs. They shiver as they sit down and Stiles turns towards Scott, "By the way, if I don't come back and you do, you should probably know something. Your dad's in town."

Scott quickly glances at me seeing an unreadable expression on my face. I give him a brief nod then he turns back around to focus on the task at hand. In an instant Isaac, Lydia, and I all push our respective people under the water, waiting until they lay still.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @crazy-fan-101 @rogershoe @judayyyw

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf rewrite #series rewrite #sister mccall imagine #lydia martin imagine

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