#why is the “study group” talking about how “we” are “gonna be popping bottles and shaking ass for real now”

[oatmilk-vampire]

Me when I have to let my classmates who are unprofessional and would rather party than actually study or pay attention in class practice their injections and phlebotomy on me.

[steddieas-shegoes]

stay for a while

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is being late to work' and for @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up event for Valentine's Day

rated e | 815 words | tags: post-sex afterglow, dirty talk, established relationship, domestic fluff

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

"You gotta go faster," Steve panted.

"I'm not the one riding me, sweetheart," Eddie replied, equally out of breath.

"Put your back into it."

So Eddie gripped Steve's hips and put his back into it.

When Steve collapsed on top of him, Eddie's cum coating both of their stomachs, they both sighed.

This was the first time they'd managed to have sex in nearly a week. Their schedules were awful lately, and any time they did manage to spend together was usually asleep.

But Steve managed to wake up before his alarm this morning and Eddie was already naked and hard and one thing led to another...

"I'm gonna be late if I don't get up and shower," Steve sighed.

He loved his job as a guidance counselor, but the early mornings sucked. Especially when Eddie didn't have to be at work most days until nine.

Maybe he could call in sick or something today.

"I could join you..." Eddie's teeth nipped his neck teasingly. "Work you up while you wash your hair. Suck you off until you can't feel your legs. Maybe fill you up again and lick you clean."

If Steve's cock wasn't trapped between them, it probably would have given a valiant effort at getting hard again.

"Babyyyyy."

"What?" Eddie kissed his jaw. "I just wanna make up for all the time we've missed this week."

"I know," Steve sat up and looked down at Eddie's sweat-slick chest. "It'll be better next week. I won't be on afternoon pick-up duty and won't have senior meetings to go to."

"And I won't be stuck at the studio with this fuckin' singer who thinks I don't have a life outside of him and his lackluster songwriting skills."

Steve smirked. "Tell me how you really feel."

"I would, but I wouldn't wanna ruin the afterglow, Stevie. You look fuckable."

"I look fucked. There's a difference," Steve leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"Not to me," Eddie pouted. "I could fuck you again. Real quick. Won't even know I'm there."

Steve snorted. "Why are you so horny this morning, Jesus Christ."

"Don't blame him. I just always want you. You're like a potato chip: one is never enough."

"Wow. What a line. I'm melting into a puddle," Steve's monotone voice was interrupted by Eddie's loud laugh. "I'm gonna go shower before you try something."

"But...we still have 30 minutes before you have to go."

Steve glanced at the clock, jumping up and yelping when he realized Eddie hadn't even pulled out all the way yet. "Shit!"

"What?"

"I have a senior meeting this morning! I have less than ten minutes!"

Steve tripped getting out of the bed, his legs still wobbly from riding Eddie for the last 15 minutes.

"Reschedule it!" Eddie yelled after him as Steve ran into the bathroom and started the shower. "Call in sick."

"Not happening! It's Hannah; She's freaking out about college applications as if she won't get in everywhere she applies and if I cancel, she'll spiral," Eddie made his way into the shower as Steve spoke, nodding along to his words, but focused mostly on the way the water was dripping down his body as he rushed to wash his hair. "And then I have a faculty meeting with the rest of the counselors to discuss how we'll implement the new afterschool senior study group because the school board said we can't legally call it a study group unless it's 100% sanctioned by the students, which is just incredibly stupid and also not even remotely important! Like, we're just trying to make sure they can pass their finals, why does it matter what we call it?"

Eddie leaned in to kiss Steve's lips softly, just enough of a brush against them to make him pause.

"Sorry," Steve sighed. "Didn't mean to ramble."

"You know I love when you do, Stevie," Eddie smiled at him, grabbing the shampoo bottle from the shelf to get started on his own hair. "I just hate seeing you so stressed. Kinda wanna help relieve that stress some more."

"Baby, I love you, but if you touch my dick right now, I will murder you."

"Ouch," Eddie clutched his hand to his chest. "Straight to murder over a little handjob in the shower?"

"If that's what has to be done for me to get to work on time."

Eddie sighed. "Fine. I won't touch you. But I'm gonna be sad all day about the lost moments we could've shared."

Steve finished rinsing off the soap on his body and turned to give Eddie a quick peck on the lips. "We can share some moments tonight. Promise."

"Okay, okay. Get out before you're late."

Steve was still late for work, but mostly because he still insisted on packing Eddie's lunch while he was in the shower finishing up. No job was more important than that.

[xcrystalzero]

finals never end

summary: as finals approach, i would like to imagine that there is something more to college than studying alone in a box for 14 hours a day. so, here's a modern au of the genshin boys as college students.

Characters included: Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Xiao, Zhongli

Diluc:

- Who are we kidding, this bitch is a legacy at some pricy Ivy League. Hates when people bring it up though since he just wants to be his own person and not rely on his family name to get through things.

- Majors in business because of course he does. Rushed a business frat because it seemed like a good idea. Didn't get a bid and has since boycotted greek life.

- Eventually people find out who his father is and he starts to get bombarded by people who just basically want to use him for networking. Gets approached by girls (and sometime guys) after class like literally every day, asking if he wants to study with them sometime or just "hang out" both because he's hot and because he's rich. He never gives them the time of day but that never stops them.

- Goes to the same school as Kaeya but ignores him every time he tries to talk to him or just come back into his life. Kaeya usually takes it in stride but every else is super confused about how the two of them actually know each other.

- Walks you home from class when it starts to get darker earlier, apparently only because he doesn't have anything better to do. A gentleman through and through.

"Don't you have a meeting right now?"

"You staying safe is more important right now. They'll understand."

Kaeya:

- You know that one guy who is always out partying and who you never see studying but somehow makes the Dean's List every single semester without fail? Yeah, that's Kaeya.

- He's probably like an engineering or hard science major too and all his friends are absolutely pissed when he fucks up the curve every single time.

"You got a 98 on the orgo final???" "What, like it's hard?"

- Not as much of a hoe as everyone thinks he is. He definitely has his fun but he's not that guy who has slept his way through his entire major.

- Surprisingly enough, he's not actually in a frat, he just always knows where all the parties are. He's that guy with a snap score in the millions because everyone and their cousin hits him up every Friday night to ask where the parties are at.

-Generally seen as a really easy person to talk too. Also really good at seeming open with people without actually ever opening up and sharing anything about himself.

- With his very few close friends however, he has some strange hobbies that he's always happy to have someone to share with.

-Will take you on a picnic date about a mile off campus where you guys each way too much cheese and crackers, drink about a bottle of wine each, and watch the stars come out as the sun sets. Give the boy some love. That's all he really wants.

Venti:

-Your local friendly performing arts major who you never find without a huge iced coffee and cuffed jeans.

- He's super involved in a bunch of student organizations from improv to a few music clubs and the like. He's that person that everyone in his major knows and comes to for recommendations about new things that they should try out.

- He's in a band! They play indie songs at rotating bars every Tuesday and Thursday night and go to conferences once a semester for aspiring artists. Also sometimes will randomly perform on the Quad and serenade the random people passing by just trying to get to class.

-Offers to play at an event a club you're in is hosting as long as there's free snacks.

- Kind of an alcoholic? Not a partier in the traditional sense, but at least twice a week, he'll host a hangout where he and anyone who decides to show up get wine drunk and watch a shit ton of Gilmore Girls. BYOB of course because there's no way he could afford it on his own. Has shown up to class still drunk before but he's cute so everyone forgives him.

- Impromptu photo shoots all the time with him. Whether its a cute random flower patch, the soft neon signs outside of a boba shop, or graffiti painted onto a building wall, everything is an insta opportunity.

Xiao:

- That mysterious kid sitting in the back of your lecture wearing all black who is both undeniably hot and also exceedingly intimidating.

- Either an animal sciences major because animals are just better than humans, or he's like like history/english and spends a lot of time reading.

- He's that guy who stops communicating after the first day of your group project and you're really worried that they're just not going to finish their work but they end up sending it to you perfectly complete like a week early. Also, will talk/text you one-on-one but dislikes group meetings and group chats.

- He's in a band too! They actually play with Venti and his friends a lot and even though he admires him a lot, he's never gotten around to actually talking to Venti.

- Doesn't let people come over because then his frighteningly large collection of Funko-Pops and anime merch will be revealed.

- Also a dancer! He's not on a team or anything since he had some bad experiences with teams when he was younger, but he heads down to the studio at least 2 times a week just to move and let out some stress. If he offers to teach you sometime, that means he really really likes you.

- Asked if you wanted to go see the Demon Slayer movie with him and then showed up in a black mask and sunglasses because he didn't want anyone to recognize him.

Childe:

- Idk why but he kind of gives off athlete vibes??? Maybe like a basketball player or something?

- A bit of a campus celebrity just in that basically everyone, even if they aren't in the same major or aren't into sports, or just basically have no connection to him, still somehow know about him.

- He's a PR major and that charm is no joke. Some people kind of despise him because of the way he is literally able to effortlessly win over all of the recruiters and just random people he meets. He's extremely well-loved and he knows it.

- He's in a frat but outside of like mandatory events, doesn't spend all that much time with them. When he does party though, he goes hard.

- Doesn't actively flirt with anyone but he's just so charming and amiable that sometimes it comes across that way. Girls are always like "he's so respectful and nice I'm in love with him." He never feels the same way.

- Extremely competitive. Like the most competitive person you have literally ever met. He has to win everything and if he doesn't, he'll just keep trying and trying until he does. Literally the worst person to play beer pong with because he's not letting you go until he wins.

- Asks you to come to his games even though you barely even know the rules. If he does see you in the crowd, he gets way too hyped but plays the best he has all season. Make sure you take the credit for it.

Zhongli:

- That guy in your required philosophy class who argues with the professor. Not in an annoying "I'm smart and want an excuse to mansplain" kind of way though. He's actually just absurdly well-read and wants to discuss things instead of just listening to someone talk.

- People get annoyed with him because he's kind of disrupting class but if you actually listen to what he's saying, his ideas make a lot of sense and are kind of a mind-fuck at times.

- Has an extensive collection of plants at home and somehow manages to keep all of them alive and thriving. Also collects antique tea sets and goes to great lengths to make sure that they are taken care of.

- Probably actually a philosophy or anthropology major. Always has a new book recommendation and he's a darling who actually reads from every genre.

- Spends his free time going to museums in the area or visiting historical landmarks that are close enough to the university. Loves walking everywhere so that he can just take time to enjoy scenery and the like.

- You mention that there's a new exhibit at the local art gallery and he says that he's actually going there that evening if you would like to join him. And I mean, why would you refuse?

A.N. I'm gonna go back to studying now! Hope you enjoyed!

[expectingtofly]

Painted Nails and Pride

1.7k

internalized homophobia, john being an a**hole, bisexual dean, found family, happy ending

written for day 7 of @spnprideweek

Music boomed from the park down the street and Dean tried to focus on the newspapers spread out before him, front pages covered with news about a bear attack at a campsite a few miles west. Not actually a bear attack, of course. From the tracks they’d seen when they hiked out there yesterday, Dad's money was on wendigo.

Cheering drew his eyes from the table where he, Sam, and Dad sat outside a restaurant to the people heading down the sidewalk towards the music. Banners on streetlights along the road proclaimed that today marked Roseville's 3rd Annual Pride Parade. His eyes snagged on a group of kids his own age standing on the street corner, hugging and talking excitedly. One boy had painted nails and wore a cropped shirt that exposed his midriff. As he talked with his friends, he looked around, and his eyes met Dean’s. He smiled at him, and Dean ducked his head, face burning.

An announcer’s voice echoed down the street. “Welcome to Pride,” the voice boomed. Dean folded and unfolded the corner of the newspaper, listening to the cheering, rotating the ring on his thumb around and around.

Dad snorted, and Dean glanced up at him. Arms crossed, leaning back in his chair, he watched the proceedings with a scowl on his face. Dean studied the newspapers more intently, underlining words just to look like he was doing something productive. Part of him wanted to go down to the parade, just to see what it was all about, but that was ridiculous. Only affirmed by a derogatory comment Dad made low under his breath about the people in the street.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed verbally, jostling his leg under the table. He glanced sideways at Sam, who was giving Dad a glare. Dean gave him a look that meant, don’t start, but Sam ignored him.

“Don’t say that,” he said, and Dean froze, eyes snapping to their father. Dad pulled his eyes from the street to Sam, giving him a long, steady look.

“What?” he asked after a long moment. “You one of them?”

Sam only held his gaze for a second before it seemed his courage failed. He ducked his head. “No,” he mumbled, kicking at the table leg.

Dad stared at him for another long moment, expressionless, before turning his journal around and dropping it in front of Sam. “Shut up and make yourself useful. Sooner we figure out what’s killing these folks, sooner we can get out of this goddamn town.”

He waved down the waitress for another drink, and Dean glared at Sam, who was absently thumbed through the journal pages. Returning to his own work, he snapped one newspaper closed and opened another, skimmed an article about the victim’s family. The words didn’t really make sense in his head, though, and too soon he found himself watching the people in the street again. The boy who’d smiled at him had disappeared, though, probably watching the parade.

Finding a one-off line in an article about rumors of a strange being haunting the woods, he circled it and handed the newspaper across the table.

“Nice work,” Dad said, taking the paper, but instead of the usual warmth from his praise, Dean only felt sick.

He felt about the same now, standing in Jody’s kitchen—off to the side so he wouldn’t be in the way during the frenzied preparations to attend the Sioux Falls Pride Parade. Music played from Patience’s phone, some song he recognized from Cas constantly turning the radio dial to the pop music station. Sam helped Kaia finish a sign decorated with the lesbian flag, and Eileen signed with Alex who was learning sign language in high school. Claire sat at the table painting Jack’s nails, who wriggled in his seat excitedly.

Catching Dean’s eyes, he held up the hand Claire had finished. “Dean, look!”

Dean forced a smile. “Looks good.”

“Stay still,” Claire ordered, frowning down at Jack’s hand as she painted his pinky.

This was a bad idea, Dean thought. Jody had invited them for the week, mentioning off-hand that Sioux Fall’s pride events were going on, and Dean had pushed aside the mild panic at that comment, told her they’d come visit. He didn’t know he’d be roped into joining everyone at Pride, but here he was, feeling out of place in the corner of the kitchen. Who knew how he’d feel standing at the parade.

“Want me to do yours?” Claire asked, and Dean snapped his attention back to her. She was holding a bottle of nail polish, others lined up next to her on the table, and he froze, realizing what she was suggesting.

His first instinct was to spit out, “I’m not one of those,” but guilt rushed through him for how harsh the words sounded in his head. Defensive words, unnecessary ones because there was no threat here. He didn't mean them anyway.

Swallowing them down, he glanced around the kitchen for rescue. Cas was helping Donna pack water bottles because “It’s gonna be hot out there,” but he must’ve felt Dean’s gaze because he looked over and gave him a reassuring smile. No judgement in his eyes, or Claire's either, for that matter. He had a feeling he wouldn't find any judgement in this kitchen, which should've been a relief, but he had a hard time trusting it.

“Come on, Dean,” Jack said. “We can match!”

You can do this, Dean told himself. It's just Pride, not an Apocalypse.

He tried to smile. “Sure,” he said, going to the table and sitting down, chest tight.

He chose the color blue because it felt less ostentatious than the pinks and lilacs Claire presented to him. Even so, the color looked strikingly bright in the sunlight as he stood along the street marked off for the parade, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Hey,” Cas said, touching his shoulder. Dean tensed, then felt awful for his reaction, but Cas didn’t move away, only rubbed between his shoulder blades until Dean relaxed marginally. “You okay?”

Dean nodded. “Fine,” he managed. Cas gave him a small smile and leaned his head on Dean’s shoulder.

A float passed with people waving and dancing on top, a banner strung across the front declaring, “Protect Trans Kids.” Jack waved a rainbow flag around, cheering along with the crowd. Claire’s arm was wrapped around Kaia’s shoulders, a smile tugging at her mouth despite her attempts to look unbothered by the proceedings. Dean wished he could feel that nonchalant. Instead, he kept looking over his shoulder. He didn’t know exactly what threat he was looking for, but the press of the growing crowds and the heat and noise, the bright colors and waving flags everywhere he looked was making him nauseous.

Turning back to the parade, he met Sam’s eyes. “Never thought we’d both end up here, right?” Sam asked over the noise, attempting levity, and Dean wondered if he remembered sitting outside near a Pride parade, feeling so unsure. There were plenty of other instances to remember, plenty of times John made disparaging comments that Dean either pretended to not hear or agreed with out of a panic that if he wasn’t careful, they might be directed at him next.

“This is fun,” Sam commented, watching the parade, and Dean wished he could agree.

Easy for you to say, he thought. You have a girlfriend, people’ll assume you’re straight. But he felt bad for thinking it. He didn’t want Cas to move away from him—if anything, wanted him closer, wanted his arm around him. But he felt too tense to move.

A crowd of middle-aged people walked in the parade, t-shirts reading variations of MOM HUGS, DAD HUGS, GRANDPA HUGS. Dean watched as people stepped off the sidewalk and hugged the moms and dads, some crying as soon as arms wrapped around them.

Without his permission, he felt his own eyes growing teary and he ducked his head, scraped his heel on the sidewalk.

“Dammit,” Jody said. “Where can I get one of those t-shirts?”

“We gotta do that next year,” Donna decided, and Jack gave her a hug.

“You can hand out hugs without the t-shirt,” he told her, and she grinned.

“You’re right.” Lifting her arms, she announced, “Free hugs over here!” People around them laughed, and someone took her up on the offer, telling her, “You’ve got a lovely family.”

Donna beamed. “Why yes I do.” She pulled Claire into a half-hug that Claire resisted, protesting the whole time. “Come here, Sam,” she said, yanking Sam into a hug that he had to nearly fold himself in half for. Everyone else got their turn, then she turned to Dean, holding out her arms.

Dean stepped into it, wrapping his arms around her. A gentler hug, Donna rubbing his back. Dean sunk into the embrace, the chaos around him subsiding for a moment.

“We’re family now, right?” she asked, pulling away to meet his eyes, and Dean nodded. Smiling at him and patting his arm, she turned back to Jody, wrapping an arm around her.

It felt a little easier to breathe now, his chest not so tight. The crowds around them didn’t seem so threatening, just smiling people with their families like he was with his. Eileen cheered as a float passed with an Irish LGBTQ+ coalition, and Dean smiled, easier now, not forced.

Jody pulled Donna in for a kiss that turned into making out. Claire rolled her eyes. “Ew, guys, Gross.” Kaia elbowed her and Claire’s put-on air of displeasure broke into a grin as she elbowed her back. Cas nudged Dean with a small smile when a float of pink, purple, and blue streamers drove past. For a moment, Dean's chest seized, John's voice ringing in his head, but in all the noise around them, it quickly drowned out.

Pulling his hands from his pockets, he took Cas’ hand. Cas interlaced their fingers immediately, squeezing tightly, then lifted their hands and studied Dean’s nails. Dean had let Jack paint a smiley face on his pinky to match the one on Jack’s thumbs. Staring at them, he thought of a boy at Pride with painted nails, his own fears and wants tightening his chest, but then Cas looked up at him with a smile, and the memory faded into a warm glow.

“I like them,” Cas told him.

“Yeah," Dean said. "Me too.”

[creepling]

anything could happen (irl!quackity x reader)

pairing: irl!quackity x genderneutral!reader

word count: 2,805

summary: the reader is roomates with karl jacobs, and he is beginning to be concerned about the reader. when karl invites the reader to hang out with him and his friends, the reader is hesitant. however, they end up having a very deep conversation with alex.

tw: swearing, use of alcohol (mild), some angst, ends with fluff!!

alternative link: ao3.

I sneaked into the apartment as best as I could. I knew if I made one faint sound, the living room light would switch on and a very judgemental Karl would be sitting on his fancy couch (that he spent way too much money on) shaking his head and tutting at me like a disapproving mother.

And behold, that's exactly what came next when I dropped my boots too hard onto the ground when slipping them off. Only the lamp next to the couch flicked on. Karl paying mind to the electricity bill, I suppose.

"Have a nice night? Or should I say, very early morning?" God, he sounded angry. It took a ton of pressure to make Karl angry, making him impatient was like putting pressure on hard metal. And yet, my lifestyle really rubbed Karl the wrong way.

"Damn, you really stayed up late for me?" I tried to joke off, plopping myself onto Karl's fancy couch. His tongue rolled along the inside of his cheek, his arms crossed, he couldn't even look me in the eye. Instead he just muttered, "No, I just finished streaming."

After a very awkward pause, Karl finally spoke.

"Why do you do it?"

"Do what?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"I used to think maybe you were seeing someone, y'know like just the one person. Then I caught on it's more than just one person. You go out a drive with a different person every weekend, whether that be to hook up with them or just hang out."

"And what's up with that?" I asked, a little irritated. "Geez, Karl, I know we're different when it comes to relationships. But everyone is different— why can't you respect that about me?"

"It's not—" Karl said, a little to loudly, getting annoyed. He must've felt like I wasn't listening to him. He eventually lowered his voice and continued. "It's not the acts themselves that bother me. It's that you do these things, and you're never satisfied. You still hang out with people that you don't even like— you always come back and tell me how toxic they are. And then you hook up with people and say how it wasn't enjoyable. I just want you to be happy, and seeing you do things that make you feel unsatisfied worries me."

Karl could not have explained it better, his words perfectly summed up my feelings in the past few years. Ever since I had to get back up on my feet after hard times, being able to live as a roommate with Karl; have a roof over my head. Sometimes I just put myself in uncomfortable situations because I feel like I am not good enough.

"I understand, Karl. I honestly do. But— it's all I have. I have no one else to depend on." My eyes, like Karl's moments before, could not bare to look at him.

"You have me, (Y/N). You can hang out with me and my friends." At this moment, Karl had a tint of a smile on his face and he placed his hand on my drooped shoulder.

I could not contain the scoff that left my lips. "Me and your friends are so different from each other. I barely know anything about video games or Minecraft or streaming. I've talked to your friends before and I never know what to say to them."

"There's more to us than just our jobs, (Y/N)" Karl said, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "And what the hell are you talking about! My friends think you're so cool and always ask about you! I mean, I remember you and Alex—"

"I barely know Alex! We literally shared one laugh together because I knew the meme he referenced." I said, a smile plastered on my dumb face. Maybe I was smiling because deep down, I was beginning to remember how fun Karl's friends were. To be honest, I always felt a little jealous when I would hear Karl and his friends belly laugh on a stream. These dumb-asses were literally being paid to hang out with each other. Meanwhile, I busted my ass for a minimum wage and hung out with people that never see me as a priority. Maybe one day Karl's rich Youtube friend would give me money to do some stupid challenge.

"I'm not gonna lie, out of all my friends, Alex is the one who asks about you the most. At first he would do it to tease me— making sex jokes about you and us. But when he eventually met you, he asked genuine questions about you. Like the other day, he asked me out of the blew about if you went to college or worked a job."

I definitely did not admit it to Karl, but I actually found that flattering. Yeah, maybe I thought Alex was a little too loud on Karl's streams and I would have to cover my head with a pillow to try sleep at night. However, when I met him for that short moment when Karl's friends came to the house, he was genuinely a very funny guy. I remembered we were the same age, he was Mexican and studying law. If he remembered anything about me, I have no idea.

When I couldn't hide my smile of flattery, Karl looked at me and smiled back. He got up from the couch, about to turn off the light, but stopped himself and turned back. "Hey, instead of going out with your shitty friends next weekend, you should stay here. I'm inviting some of my friends to hang out. I think it would be cool if you joined us." Karl said without hesitation, leaving his words as an open thought.

"I'll think about it." Was all I could say, which was enough to make Karl smile, then wish me a goodnight. When I got into my room and crashed onto the bed, I left the invitation in my mind to think about until the next week.

It was finally the weekend again, after a long weekday of working I sat at my desk after putting on some casual clothes. Sometimes, I just liked to get ready in case last minute plans popped up. I still had the idea of hanging out with Karl and his friends in my mind. Yet, I began to feel nervous. I do not know why, but being surrounded by new faces always made me tense. I count myself as a pretty confident person, but there was something about Karl's friends that intimidated me. Maybe it was their crude humour or 'fame' status that made me feel iffy. Either way, I sat there, looking at my wall blankly, hearing the faint noises of Karl arranging the living room for his friends arriving. As a fumbled with by sleeves and chilled out to music, my bedroom door flew open and a really happy Karl stood there.

"So? Are you joining us tonight?" He asked, anticipating a positive response.

"I don't know, Karl." I lightly groaned, the nerves still having a hold on me.

"C'mon, (Y/N). It's nothing too big. Some of the guys are having beers, which I know you enjoy." Karl winked playfully.

I barked out a laugh when I heard his words. "You always say I have an alcohol problem!"

"Exactly! Let your alcoholism be the reason you hang out with us!" Karl was trying to drag me out the room at this point.

"Piss off!" I laughed, feebly slapping Karl.

"Please . . . They really want to meet you again!" Karl dragged me into the living room. Then, a sharp knock came from the door. "Too late! They're already here!"

Admittedly, it was awkward at first. The group immediately wanted to play video games, which I guessed was going to happen. I respectively sat on the couch and watched them play as if I was just watching a movie. I smiled throughout, watching them bicker and yell at each other through competitive spirit. The energy was chaotic, but enjoyable. It was a different environment I was use to, it was more relaxed, but still had the fun aspects I chase for. For the first time in a while, I felt like I could act like myself; the chill version of me. I was not afraid of being judged or talked down to. The nerves that consumed me hours before slipped away effortlessly.

The few bottles of beer I had throughout the night had gotten to my head eventually, my heavy eyes were opening and closing as I snuggled up to the edge of the couch. I checked my phone now and then, scrolling through social media. By this point, some of the group had fallen asleep from drunkenness, or went home. The string of people left were beginning to wind down; Karl offered spare pillows and blankets for the ones who wanted to crash. From the silence I assumed everyone, even Karl himself, were drifting off to sleep. Until I heard a voice acknowledge me.

"Not going to sleep?"

It was Alex. I realized once I looked up, seeing he was exiting the kitchen with another drink, with one beer in his other hand that he was beckoning to me. I took it, mumbling a thanks, my eyes trailing towards him as he took a seat next to me.

"I'm used to staying up late at the weekends, so my body clock is all over the place." I confessed, smirking down at my beer bottle before taking a light sip.

"At least you aren't a light-weight like most of these idiots." Alex joked, looking around the room at his friends. "I suspected we would play more games, but I think people couldn't hack anymore. It's a shame though, I felt like we didn't include you too much."

It was considerate for Alex to say that, but I chuckled dismissively. "I didn't feel left out, don't worry. I enjoyed the company. I needed a chill night like this one."

Alex smiled at that, and immediately looked down when he did, but it was still contagious enough to make me smile. For a short moment I took in his appearance. He hadn't changed much from the last time I saw him. Still wore a beanie that took up 90% of his head, no matter the weather.

"I don't know if Karl mentioned but—" Alex began, suddenly becoming bashful. "I bought the beers for you, as a kind of present. I remembered you drinking them the last time we were over."

"Oh my God— Karl didn't say to me . . ." I said. "That's so thoughtful of you, thank you so much."

He really did that? Considering we were just acquaintances, I did not expect that. I had drank them throughout the next, since they were my favourite. He remembered something so miniscule about me. I then added, "You didn't have to do that."

Alex was biting the bottom half of his lip before he said, "I mean— I wanted to get you a little something. We all did— really. We always feel bad coming over here and never having the time to get to know you. This is your house just as much it is Karl's."

I scoffed after taking a swig of my drink. "It's more Karl's house than mine. He's the one that lives in it. I'm always working or out hanging out with people. The only time I'm ever here is when I'm sleeping or eating. In fact, this is the first night in I have had in months."

"What do you do then if you're barely in the house?" Alex asked.

I became a little tense. Remembering Karl's chat last week made me realise how useless my life was. Karl was right, the things I do and the people I hang out with do not benefit me in a positive way. My 'friends' haven't even texted me today to ask why I'm not hanging out with them. I truly never had anyone that cared for me. I sure haven't had anyone do something as small as buying me my favourite beers. I shook my head and muttered, "Nothing interesting . . ."

My face must have exposed my sadness, as Alex had a look of concern on his face. To ease the tension, I looked over to him and twitched a smile. However, I don't think it convinced him. God, I hate worrying people.

"I know we barely know each other yet. But— If there's something on your mind, you can always talk to me about it."

Normally I dread hearing words like that, but looking at Alex and how calm he seemed to be around me convinced me I could trust him in that moment. Before I realized, I was spilling my train of thought all over the atmosphere. I told Alex about my 'friends'; how I feel like they never give a shit about me. I confessed that I am unhappy with my life, that I feel like I am wasting my time and potential. I admitted my distain for making Karl worried about my wellbeing every time I came back to the apartment. Lastly, I affirmed that tonight was the first time I felt happy among another's company in a very long time. How I felt content, knowing no one would judge me or think I was taking up space. I thanked him again and again, knowing that his act of service was little to him, but absolutely gigantic to me.

"What you and your friends did tonight, no one has ever done to me in a long time. It was so miniscule, I know, but it's more than I have ever experienced. For once, the kindness felt genuine. Is it wrong to think like that?" My eyes looked at Alex, desperate for reassurance.

"Absolutely not, (Y/N)." Alex shook his head. "From what you have told me, you have every right to feel the way you're feeling. Not gonna lie— your friends sound like dicks."

"They are dicks!" I laughed out, wiping the loose tears from my eyes. "And I am sick of being associated with them! From here on out, they are not my friends anymore." I turned my whole body to face Alex at this point, my sudden movement alerting his attention. "If you don't mind, can I count you, Karl— everyone else— as my new friends?"

The smile that emerged from Alex's face warmed my chest. "You don't need to ask, (Y/N)" He said, "We already counted you as our friend."

The happiness that swelled in my chest consumed me in that moment, and it stimulated me to enrobe Alex into a hug. His body was tense from my sudden touch, yet he relaxed easily into my body and his arms moulded into my touch. The fragrance clinging to his sweater engulfed my nose, making me nuzzle deeper into his shoulder. Alex chuckled and the vibrations tickled me, making me scoff out a laugh.

We met each other's gaze as we pulled away from the embrace; analysing the tint of blush on his cheeks, tracing to the bridge of his nose. He ruffled the hair on top of my head, making me laugh and nudge him playfully. Our instant smiles welcoming the space between us.

"So . . . got anymore tired yet?" Alex asked, raising a brow.

I shook my head and slowly looked around the room. Clocking the console lying on the coffee table, I grabbed it and my fingers began to awkwardly fumble with the joystick.

"First step of becoming friends, should be you teaching me how to be a pro-gamer." I joked, giving him a playful smirk.

He rolled his eyes, cringing as he grabbed the other remote. "It's not for the faint hearted," He joked along, "I think you'll get the hang of it, though."

For the rest of the night, into the early morning, we played games. We laughed our asses off, had mini arguments; stirring some of the others out of their slumber when Alex couldn't contain the volume of his voice.

Anything could happen, I realized. If I seek positivity, I will eventually find it. Thankfully, I was able to admit — I discovered it already.

TAGLIST / if you would like to join my taglist, click here !

[jj-babebank]

Room 107 // chapter I // JJ Maybank (smut)

I have started my first JJ story, which will consist of several chapters that I will constantly be updating. The story picks up where season 2 leaves us. TW: Contains mentions of drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, sex and violence. 

Chapter 1 can be found below.  Oh, and - please feel free to submit requests, I tend to write a lot ;) 

Enjoy xx

Chapter 1 - La Guardiana

Days had passed since the Pogues had last seen civilisation, maybe even weeks. The sun was hotter than ever, with close to no wind to mask the warmth. JJ was taking this particularly badly. 

“I’m so done with eating bananas, man,” he moaned, kicking a pebble as he trotted a little behind the rest of his friends, “Can’t we just stumble across an oasis or something and end up in, like, an actual city?”

As if on command, his friends stopped in their tracks, the girls awing and the guys smiling happily. 

“We just might, JJ,” said John B, looking at the city unfolding itself in front of them in the distance, “We just might.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m actually starving,” laughed Sarah, nudging John B’s arm, “Don’t tease!” “Hey, so am I,” he cooed, “First joint we find, we’re going in for food.” Kiara rolled her eyes, “As much as I would love to accept that offer, let me remind you that we have no money.” Sarah nodded, “Mhm, nothing at all.” “Nada,” John B looked at the two girls sternly, “And when has that ever stopped us exactly?” Kiara rolled her eyes once again, smirking at her friend, “Alright, I suppose a good meal would give me the energy I’d need to run a marathon after getting caught not paying.”

The group continued walking down a not too busy street, studying the buildings, looking for a restaurant, cafe, diner - anything, really. They hadn’t had a proper meal in God knows how long and they were famished. They couldn’t help but notice how all the buildings on the street were of the same height - no more than four storeys each, all painted in different colours. If they hadn’t known any better, they’d have thought that they had left the United States of America altogether, although one thing was certain - they were definitely not in the Outer Banks anymore. 

The street wasn’t crowded at all, there were hardly any cars or people lurking about. JJ concluded that this was probably an unpopular area of whichever city they were in. This would also explain the lack of supermarkets and restaurants. He really wanted to ask his friends to stop for a little break - his throat was so dry and his legs could barely hold him up anymore, but he knew better. The longer they walk, the faster they’ll find what they are looking for. Having no indicator of the time on them wasn’t helping either, hell, they could have been walking for 12 hours for all he knew, and with no result. 

“Maybe we should just ask someone,” Pope suggested, “Neither of us is a wanted criminal anymore, I’d say we have nothing to worry about.” John B smirked at his friend’s remark, but ultimately agreed to ask the first person they ran into where the nearest food joint was. Turns out, they were standing right in front of it. 

“La Cubanita Hotel and Restaurant” it spelled out in bold, red letters. The building was narrow and a light shade of blue, totally contrasting the obnoxiously coloured sign planted in front of it. Much like the rest of the buildings on the street, it had no more than four floors, each consisting of a row of Spanish windows with brightly coloured frames. The Pogues looked at each other with a hint of uncertainty before John B lead the way into the building. 

On the inside it looked like a typical diner - tiled floor, red and blue booths, a long bar accompanied by bar stools and, cheesily enough, a boombox. JJ guessed that the way to the hotel was through the back, but he didn’t put too much thought into it. The place seemed dead, with only one of the booths being busy. It was either an off-peak hour or this city was actually a ghost town. 

The group sat at one of the booths on the other side of where the other people were and JJ took a second to observe them. A group of bikers, all wearing stereotypical biker outfits from leather jackets down to bandanas. They were in their mid 50s and were all smoking indoors, drinking what looked like whiskeys, despite of the blazing sun still very much being out. JJ had to give it to them though, they did look pretty darn cool if he did say so himself, and those cigarettes looked eerily appetising to him at this given moment. Oh, what he’d give to have a sip of whatever they were having and a long, much needed drag of one of their cigarettes. He was so lost in his daydream, he barely realised Kiara poking him in the arm. 

“JJ,” she urged, “Waitress is here!” In this moment JJ turned his attention to the new subject in question, their waitress. She was standing at the foot of their booth, wearing her uniform, black and red, holding a pen and a notepad, chewing a piece of gum, waiting for his order. Could this place get any more stereotypical? JJ thought to himself. “So what’s it gonna be, handsome?” She said, not even bothering to look in his direction. “Uh…” JJ fumbled with the menu, “I’ll just have whatever they’re having.” He said, pointing at the bikers in the booth across from theirs. The woman rolled her eyes, popping her bubblegum. She took the rest of the Pogues’ orders before disappearing somewhere behind the bar. JJ followed her with his eyes, blocking out the conversation his friends were currently having. The waitress came back out of what he assumed to be the kitchen and handed the paper with their orders to another girl behind the bar. JJ guessed she was the barmaid, and boy was she a bit of him. 

She was wearing the same uniform as her colleague, although JJ had to admit - it looked a whole lot better on her, at least from what he could see from above the bar. Her hair was long and brown, half of it tied up effortlessly, and slightly messily, although JJ didn’t mind one bit. He watched her as she took the paper from her colleague and went to fetch the drinks written on it. He couldn’t make out what exactly colour her eyes were, and quite frankly - he didn’t really care, she was gorgeous regardless of what her eyes looked like, and she looked around his age. Had the sun and heat gotten to his head, or was it just the fact that he hadn’t touched a female in so long, he didn’t know, but if there was one thing JJ Maybank was notorious for, it was his ability to pull any girl his heart desired effortlessly. This is why he excused himself from the table and, albeit his friends’ confused looks and comments, he made his way towards the bar, sliding into one of the stools directly across from the girl. 

She looked up at him, “Can I help you?” “Brown…” JJ mumbled to himself. “Excuse me?” She said, this time sounding slightly annoyed. Her eyes were brown, JJ thought, brown and sexy. He coughed, trying to compose himself and gave her his signature Maybank stare. It worked wonders back home, surely it would work wonders now again. “Name’s JJ,” he said suavely, “I’m not from around here-“ “Clearly,” she muttered, picking up a bottle of whiskey. JJ assumed it was for him, “Aren’t you a little young to be drinking, JJ?”

JJ smirked, “What can I say, I have the face of a boy but the body and mind of a man.” The girl snickered under her nose, “Sure. Well since you’re here, make yourself useful and bring your drinks over to your friends,” she gave him a fake smile, placing a tray with their orders on it in front of him, after which she turned her back to him and walked towards the back of the bar. JJ was too busy observing her behind to notice the other waitress standing next to him, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Should I take that or will you?” She said, waking JJ up from his everlasting daydream. “Oh, uh, don’t sweat it…” he said, picking up the tray and carrying it over to his friends’ booth. “So much for customer service,” Sarah laughed. “And to think my dad says I’m hostile to our customers,” Kiara muttered out. JJ took his seat next to her, his eyes never leaving the bar. “La Guardiana,” Pope read out loud, “This place is called La Guardiana, and apparently we’re somewhere in Florida.” “Florida?” John B said, confusion dripping through his words. Pope nodded, pointing at some text on the bottom of the menu. 

La Cubanita Hotel & Restaurant **, 97 Diego’s Crescent, La Guardiana, FL 

“Holy shit, we’re in Florida!” John B whisper yelled. Sarah laughed at his reaction, “Calm down now, Sancho, let’s not draw any attention to us,” “Yeah, you might wanna tell Casanova here that,” teased Pope, nodding his head in JJ’s direction, “Was it really worth it to potentially blow our cover just to talk to that girl?” JJ snapped at Pope, “Hey, man, just ‘cuz you don’t have the nuts to go over there and talk to her yourself,” “Yeah, I really want to attract the staff’s attention, you know, even more than we already are, seeing as we’re the only other busy table at this place.” “Your food,” the waitress from earlier was back with some of the Pogues’ orders. They waited for her to be out of earshot and JJ spoke up, “Relax, P, I bet you I can charm the pants off that girl and we won’t even need to sneak out without paying!” Pope gave JJ a fake smile, “Mhm, I’m sure she’s gonna be so deep under your spell she won’t even notice us leaving without paying a cent." JJ rolled his eyes, picking up a toothpick from the table and placing it between his teeth. “Might even offer us a place to crash, you know, because she’ll be so captivated by you.” Pope continued to tease. “Yeah, chicks totally dig this whole I’m homeless and I haven’t properly showered in like 15 days look you're going for,” Sarah joined in on the teasing. Kiara laughed and added, “Yeah, and the bit that’s gonna fully seal the deal for her is that you have literally nothing to offer her, like 0 dollars.” Everyone was laughing while JJ just crossed his arms in front of his chest and turned to look out the window, “Talk all you want, guys, but once we get that gold back, you’ll see who’ll dig what.” “The rest of your order,” he recognised the girl’s voice. It was her bringing their food over this time. She placed John B’s plate in front of him and then made her way around the table, next to where JJ was sat. She handed him his plate and bent down slightly, so that her lips were on the same level as JJ’s ear, “Next time you decide to share your criminal plans, you might wanna talk a bit more quietly.” She whispered, setting his cutlery down for him, “Oh, and, you might be charming wherever you come from, but your friend’s right. That shit doesn’t work around here.” She said, patting him on the shoulder before walking away. JJ didn’t waste time sitting around to listen to his friends pass comments about what had just happened, he downed his whiskey and practically chased after the girl. “I’m guessing you’ll want another one?” She said, not even turning around. JJ wondered how she knew that he was there. When she turned to face him, the bottle of whiskey was in her hand. “Let’s see… Do I pour you another one and close my eyes about you planning to leave without paying, or do I do what anyone else in my position would do and call the police on you? Hmm…” she pretended to think, her eyes never leaving JJ’s now panicking ones. “Please don’t call the cops,” he blurted out, the whiskey hitting his brain and making him stress out more than he wanted to admit to, “Look, we - we were in a boat accident, we don’t even know how we got here, hell - we didn’t even know where we were up until 10 minutes ago! And we - we don’t have  any documents on us, we don’t have any sort of identification, what would you -“ “Relax, kid,” the girl smirked, picking up two glasses and pouring a generous amount of whiskey in both of them, “I won’t rat you out.” She said, handing JJ one of the glasses and raising hers for a toast. JJ clinked his glass with hers, a large smile growing on his face, his dimples becoming very prominent, “Thank you, really… That means a lot.” The girl took a moment to observe JJ, then to look at his friends having a heated conversation at their booth, all of them practically stuffing their faces with food in an almost animalistic sort of way. Could this boy really be telling the truth? Could these kids have been lost at sea with no place to go? She looked back at JJ who was also looking at her. Despite the smile plastered on his face, she could clearly see that he was extremely nervous still. “Hey,” she said, “I told you to relax, didn’t I. I won’t charge you for your food, in fact… I might even have a place for you to sleep and clean up tonight.” JJ’s eyes grew wider at her words, “You what?” She leaned in closer to him over the bar and lowered her voice so that he would be the only one to hear, “Hotel upstairs, my aunt owns it. She’s currently out of town with my cousin. Should be back next Thursday. I think I can fit you and your friends in. You just have to promise to be on your best behaviour.” She said, pulling away and taking another sip from her drink. JJ couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was too good to be true. She was hot and she was willing to help? This must have been his lucky day. Sarah could suck it, and so could the others. Clearly this girl was into him. Why else would she be offering to help? “So, uh, what’s in it for me?” He asked, a hint of mischief in his voice. The girl opened her mouth, but before she could speak, the other waitress groaned from behind her. “Samara, how many times do I have to tell you?” Her croaky voice rang. The girl, who JJ had just learned was called Samara, rolled her eyes and repeated with her colleague, “No drinking on the job, yeah yeah, I know. But Heather’s gone and so is Conner, so who can tell me what to do, really?” She said, finishing what was left of her whiskey, “Besides, Georgia, as far as I’m concerned, since they’re both gone, that leaves me in charge, no? Now get back to work,” she said, making her colleague roll her eyes at her. Samara turned around to face JJ again, giving him a wink, before disappearing into the kitchen. JJ couldn’t believe his luck. He swung his arm over the bar and picked up the bottle of whiskey to pour himself one more drink before returning to his friends. “Guys-“ JJ tried getting their attention. “So what are we supposed to do now? We’re totally screwed!” “They’re gonna call the police on us, hell, they probably already have! The cops could be on their way!” “Guys!” JJ yelled, catching even the bikers’ attention. His friends looked up at him, worry filling all of their eyes. “You’ll never believe what I’m about to tell you, oh, and Sarah? You can eat your words.” He smirked before telling them what had just happened. “Hold on,” said Kiara, her face revealing her confusion, “So this random girl in this random place just randomly said that we can crash here until when?” “Next Thursday, or was it Tuesday? What day is it today?” JJ scratched his head. “JJ!” Kiara slapped his arm, “What if this is a trap? It sounds too good to be true doesn’t it? Like, what’s in it for her? We don’t even know her! What if she’s a murderer or something?” “She’s right, you know,” Cleo chimed in. “She is,” said John B, “But we have nothing to lose, literally.” Pope nodded, “I’d usually agree with Kie, but John B’s right. We have nothing to lose. And what if she calls the police? What could even happen then? We get put in jail for agreeing to sleep in a hotel for free? Come on, guys, I’m sure we can all agree that a bar of soap and a normal bathroom would do us good. I mean, we stink.” Everyone laughed at Pope’s remark before Kiara turned to JJ again, “So what’s the plan?” Realisation just struck JJ that he didn’t in fact know what the plan was. Samara had told him virtually nothing about how any of this would go down. Where were they supposed to meet? Was she going to take them to their rooms? Would they all be sharing one room? He was so busy thinking about how all of this would go down, he barely noticed Samara herself passing him a note. It was taken out of her colleague, who JJ now knew to be Georgia’s notepad. The note read in messy handwriting:

Bring your friends to the lobby. Straight down the hallway by the bathrooms. 

JJ turned the piece of paper towards his friends and they all got up, rushing towards the hallway by the bathrooms.

[s1ater]

different type of game, part one. eli moskowitz x reader

summary 📣: in which eli moskowitz is a popular hockey player, but to reader he was just a boy tory nichols had history with. but eli’s trying to erase that history, and what better way then trying to get with her best friend?

warnings 🚫: mentions of sex, swearing, vulgar language, drinking, tory and reader have a “funny” relationship, no mohawk eli‼️

slater’s note 🗯: i saw a video of hockey jacob, so this kind of inspired this fic. also is it wrong that i lowkey ship tory and hawk?

part one, part two

“hockey boys are fun, always a good fuck.”

“jesus, tory.”

“what?” she out called innocently, leaning back from the boarder separating the two of you from the ice, “it’s true.”

“oh yeah?” you quirked a brow to tory, leaning away from the boarder as well and making your way to the entrance onto the ice.

you really wondered if tory thought about the words that came out of her mouth before they actually came out of her mouth.

the two of you had been watching the high school hockey team practice with the rest of your figure skating team when her words just popped into the air.

“yes.”

“who have you fucked?”

it’s silent, meaning either tory hadn’t followed you onto the ice and didn’t hear you or she was stumped.

she never got stumped, only with you really, and it was because you knew how to contradict her without fear, unlike others who would rather keep their mouths shut then receive a blade to the face from the stupid spike bracelet she kept around her wrist at all times.

you slightly glanced back, trying to see if she was following you, “tory? who’d you fuck?”

the skating rink smelt of sweat and blood, making scrunch up your nose slightly as you got farther to the center. it hadn’t ever mattered how early you got to the rink, it always smelled like that, even before the hockey practices.

“no one.”

“shut up,” you rolled your eyes, turning the heal off your skate to face her. you knew she was lying then.

“what?”

“tory,” you dumbfounded, “who’d you have sex with?”

it was like she was cowering away from you, as if you were about to hit her or something and you didn’t get it.

“c’mon.”

“fine,” she nipped at her lip, eyes sliding along the ice, “miguel diaz.”

and you almost gasped, eyes widening, “tory,” but you kept it in, your hand reaching for her, almost asking her if she was serious, “no way, the kids a dork.”

“shut up, no he’s not.”

“yes he is!” you almost laughed, “he’s friends with those other dweebs, y’know? the lip kid and uh-“

“demetri?”

“yes!”

“y/n, you’re stupid,” it was her turn dead stare you in the eyes with a disappointed glare in her irises, “that was freshman year, two years ago, a lot happens in two years- god haven’t you ever seen eli shotgun? he does it at almost every party.”

“eli?”

“lip kid.”

“oh.. huh?”

tory rolled her eyes as if she was done with your shit, “he has the rough red hair, almost looks pink... uh, hot, number 20 on the hockey-“

you gasped, it all suddenly clicking in your head, “that’s him?”

“yes, that’s him.”

tory looked at you as if you were stupid, her face blank but harsh, it almost made you laugh, but you held it in, allowing a small snide smile slide across your lips, “how was he?”

“miguel?”

“no, eli,” you rolled your eyes, “yes, tory, the one you had sex with.”

“oh...” her teeth sunk into her bottom lip once again. her cool and rude exterior seemed to have disappeared real quick in replace of nervousness, “what if i told you i fucked the both of them?”

°•

it was a late friday night, ten minutes after practice when you felt rushed by tory’s phone call.

“y/n, where are you?”

“tory, where are you?” you were struggling with the phone pressed up to your ear as you tried your best to pull off skates and balance yourself up.

it was nine thirty at night, practice had just gotten over and there was no sign of tory at all throughout the night.

it always seemed as though tory was a slacker, didn’t show up for school, but always showed up to figure skating practice. she always said it was her ticket to a better life, especially with finals coming up. so it was weird for her to ditch out.

“y/n, it’s larusso’s party tonight, it started half an hour ago,” you could hear an annoyance in her tone, “you said you would meet me here.”

you closed your eyes tightly, it suddenly all coming back to you. you had promised her to be her safety buddy for the night just in case any weirdos came around harassing up on her.

“fuck, tory, i forgot,” you lightly slapped your forehead as if scolding yourself, sitting down in one of the arena seats, “i’ll be there soon, practice just ended.”

“you better be,” her voice erupted through your phone speaker, “i’ve been talking to stingray for the half hour, i’m gonna shoot myself before i have another drink.”

you rolled your eyes at the exaggeration that came from her mouth, “shut up.”

and you hung up the phone.

°•

you squinted up at the large larusso home. everyone knew daniel larusso as the ex-hockey-player-valley-championship-winner-now-super-rich-car-salesman. the people of LA worshiped the man.

trekking up the front lawn you could already smell the booze that was practically leaking past the front door.

“finally, you made it,” tory’s arm slung over your shoulder the moment you walked in, her hand shoving a red solo cup in your own, “drink up, long night ahead.”

you narrowed your brows, looking to her a bit confused at her tense posture. she should have been loosened up more, especially with how much alcohol she probably drunk.

“you alright?” you quirked a brow while taking a drink of the sour tasting liquid that you found hard forcing down your throat.

you winced, slightly tilting your head before throwing back some more into your mouth.

“nothing, just kinda... bored.”

“shut up, no you’re not.”

“can we go sit down?”

she was moving before you could say ‘yes’ and moving pretty fast as she swerved herself around the clumps of people littering the living room.

she sat down on a couch in the corner, her hands sitting gently on her lap making your brows close in on each other even more. it didn’t make sense as to why she was being so... awkward.

it was like her heart was racing and her eyes were moving fast, looking from one place to another, like she was paranoid, looking for someone.

“tory, are you on drugs?” you asked, placing your hand close to her as you took a seat next to her on the nice leather couch.

you could barely see her face by the way the only thing illuminating her features were the cheap tacky disco lights set in all the corners of the room.

“no, y/n,” she shook her head, eyes squinting slightly, “fuck you, no, i just need something to drink.”

“water?”

“sure.”

“okay,” you nodded slightly, leaning away from her and standing up, “i’ll get you some.”

she stayed silent, not even watching you walk away but her attention being drawn toward the group of kids beginning to dance in the center of the room.

it was unsettling seeing her so on edge, so strange, it made you uncomfortable due to tory being the usual life of a party. it was so unlike her.

you grabbed one of the solo cups stacked on the counter, biting on your lip as you thought more and more about why tory would be in the mood that she was in.

you couldn’t think of anything as you leaned up on the counter, your hand reaching for the ice as you shoveled it into the red plastic cup.

maybe she was mad you were late or maybe something had happened to her while you were at practice or maybe-

“you’re tory’s friend, right?”

you looked up, pausing your actions of pouring ice into the cup. your eyes met a pair of blue ones, studying you.

“uh, yeah,” your eyebrows were furrowed again, slightly confused as to who you were looking at...

red hair, rough red hair fading into pink...

eli.

your face dropped from its confusion and you were then trying your best to bite back a wave of amusement that begun filling your stomach.

“you’re on the figure skating team too, aren’t you.”

“yeah, are you?”

he scoffed, slight amused taking a drink of the solo cup he held in his hand, “no, hockey team. don’t think i’m nimble enough to do figure skating.”

your eyes raked his body, “hm, i think you could probably pull it off.”

you now leaned away from the counter, sliding further down to the other side where the bottle of waters were. eli followed you slightly on the other end of the marble counter.

“you’re flattering, really.”

“i try to be,” you begun dumping the contents of one of bottles you picked up into the cup, your eyes not meeting his but rather focused on what you were doing.

“y/n? that’s your name, right?”

“yeah, how’d you know?” you still didn’t look up, not really interested in the fact that he knew your name.

“not hard to know about something when you really wanna know about it.”

you looked up then, watching him drink the contents of his drink as he slightly analyzed you, wanting to see your reaction.

“you’re funny...” you mumbled, as if what he said was a joke, but you knew it was a joke, you were just confused, your eyebrows slightly raised.

“thanks.”

you didn’t know what to say, but you really wanted to say something as you stared at him and he stared back, waiting.

you didn’t know what to say.

and you wanted to think that he didn’t know what to say either but you knew better than to think that a boy like him didn’t have a million things to say, all things that could stump you even more, make you flustered, make you embarrassed, make you red in the cheeks. 

a million things to say, but yet he stood silent, as if waiting for you to say the first words to allow him to pounce. 

masterlist

taglist 🗞:

join my taglist mf

@bigbilliamdenbro @axastasiasstuff @spiderman-berries @alexmercer-reginaldpeters @teti-menchon0604 @lydiaamphlett @notyourfuckingbusinesss @estupidteen @torynicholsgf @nessa1107 @carpioassists @vhscherry @simplytpwk @sinicalh4wk

[wordsdrippinginink]

Marcoace Soulmates have the same handwriting

“Fuck,” Thatch whispers, frowning at the list of things that he and Ace were supposed to be purchasing in town to stop up the stores until they reached a bigger island. “I can’t read this.”

“Can’t read what,” Ace asks curiously, studying the group in the candy shop beside them pulling taffy with a curiosity that Thatch had only seen on children. “The list?”

“Marco writes like a doctor,” Thatch agrees, tilting it towards him to show the scribbled mess of it off. “He can write neatly, but it’s so much effort that for the most part. Mostly uses it for the accountants and people not used to his mess.”

Ace raises an eyebrow, humming as he skims the list, “I don’t know what you’re talking about? It’s perfectly comprehensible to me.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope, looks like my handwriting to be honest. Not exactly,” Ace adds quickly, because no one liked to say their handwriting looked exactly like anyone’s, not without proof. “But enough that I can read it without too much trouble. Want me to be incharge of the list?”

“Please, all I see are scribbles.”

“Scribble one is sake, small bottles because Pops has upset Marco again with his drinking.”

“It does not say that,” Thatch demands leaning to frown at the scribbles. They didn’t look like there was enough words for that long of a sentence. “Does it?”

“Sake, normal bottles only,” Ace translates with an ease that even Izou, used to the flourishes in Oden’s handwriting, couldn’t hold a candle to. “Only twelve.”

“I can read the number at least,” Thatch promises, leading the way further into town and a little liquor shop that he remembered from their last visit.

The list is so much easier to get through without second and triple guessing his thoughts on what is been put down on paper for him. So much easier that it’s noon when they finish, a whole four hours before Thatch had thought they would be done.

“So what does your hand writing look like?” Thatch asks curiously as Ace lifts the first of their purchases back into his arms, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Because I’m curious now.”

“Like scribbles,” Ace answers, shifting his bags into one hand to grab a napkin and the pen stuffed into the band on his hat. “Like this.”

Thatch stares at the scribble that Ace pushes into his hands and shoves it into his pocket, taking care not to look shocked, “Pretty bad.”

“I know. Most people talk about learning to write at the same time as their soulmates and they can tell what is their influence and what’s their soulmates,” Ace states shrugging. “I think mine was older than me. By enough that by the time I learned to write it was too late to influence anything.”

“Sounds pretty shitty,” Thatch agrees, trying to remember how old Ace is. Ace was certainly younger then Marco, but he didn’t think they had ever gotten an exact age. “How old are you?”

“Turned eighteen last month,” Ace answers, digging through his pockets and grinning when he found the cookie he had stolen from Izou at breakfast, taking a bite of it. “Why?”

“We missed your birthday?” Thatch asks, unwilling to linger on the fact that Ace was absolutely much too young to have any say in his and Marco’s shared handwriting. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Never had much reason to celebrate,” Ace shrugs, like that’s supposed to mean something.

“We’re gonna talk about that,” Thatch promises, catching sight of Marco on deck. “Head on to the kitchen, I’ll let Marco know we’re back.”

“I’m stealing anything that looks delicious when I’m in there!” Ace yells, already vanishing through the door to the kitchens.

“He better not,” Thatch mutters, forcing his way to where Marco is frowning at Haruta and Jiro. “Hey, Marco!”

“Thatch,” Marco says slowly, barely glancing at him. “What do you need?”

“What does this say?”

Marco blinks, “When did I write this?”

“You didn’t,” Thatch answers, feeling entirely too smug when Marco’s attention focuses firmly on him, the napkin stolen from his hands. “Ace wrote that for me today to show off his horrible handwriting.”

“Ah,” Marco says softly, standing almost too still for a moment. “Haruta. Jiro. Both of you are on dish duty for a week. Thatch, you might want to wait ten minutes before going into the kitchens.”

“Don’t defile any of the surfaces or you have to clean them.”

Marco rolls his eyes, “I’m not you.”

“Maybe you should be!” Thatch shouts after him, grinning brightly when Haruta glares at him. “Dish duty?”

“We played a prank on some of Ace’s division. And maybe one of them is allergic to mint.”

“Sounds like a you problem. I’ll need you at five today instead of six, I have to make a late birthday cake and those take so much more work.”

[hockeyboysimagines]

Guess I always knew

Prequel to Say it to me Softly.

Pairing:Nolan Patrick x Sawyer Grey(OC fem)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, parties, alcohol, sexual situations, fluff, angst, harassment, fighting.

Hi all! This is really long, but it had to be done! Just some fun Nolan and Sawyer moments through the years until he asks her to move with him. Hopefully it can give you some background on them and you enjoy it!

-💕

Toast popped up just as Delaney wrapped the hair tie around the bottom of Sawyers braid

“Viola.” She said smiling and pulling it tight. Sawyer smiled at her sister as her mother pulled the toast up and put butter on it. It was a warm early summer morning and a cool breeze was drifting through the open screen door in the kitchen. The radio was on, Sawyer’s mother, Anna humming along with the radio as she moved about the kitchen making breakfast. Mason was in his high chair eating cereal, and she could hear Liv making her way downstairs. Kellan was seated at the island reading the sports section of the paper.

“ Alright.” Delaney said, finishing her orange juice and placing her plate and cup in the dishwasher “I’m out.”

“Where you off to today?” He mom asked as she stirred pancake batter, bowl perched on her hip.

“Heading to the lake with some friends, shouldn’t be home too late.”

Her mom smiled, as Delaney dropped a kiss in Mason’s head and slugged kellan in the side. She waved to the girls and her mom.

“Del?” She turned hoisting her bag over her shoulder, hand braced on the door frame.

“Be careful. “

She smiled “Always am mom.” She breezed out the door, the sound of her flip flops on the gravel growing faint until she reached her car and pulled out of the driveway.

“How bout you?” Her mom said turning to Kellan. He stood drinking the last of his coffee, and stretched setting the paper down.

“I’m heading out to pick up some bait, then I’m gonna meet dad out at the mill and we’re gonna go fishing and then we’ll be home with dinner.” She smiled and wiped her hands on her apron, accepting a kiss on the cheek as he walked to put his boots on.

“And you?” Sawyer smiled and before she could say anything she heard her name being called from the driveway.

“Why do I even ask?” He mother chuckled and opened the window.

“Good morning Nolan honey! Are you hungry?”

“Good morning Mrs.Grey! No thanks my mom wouldn’t let me leave without eating. She said she has flowers to drop off for you later today!” Sawyer shoved her feet in her sneakers and put her plate and cup in the dishwasher before giving her mom a quick hug and waving to her siblings.

Nolan was sitting on his bike at the bottom of the driveway, backpack strapped on his shoulders. Sawyer heaved her own bike up, throwing a leg over it and hoisting herself up on the seat.

“So what do you want to do today?” Nolan asked as they began pedaling down the gravel road.

Summer had just started, and they had 3 whole months of free time with no school, no teachers and no responsibility.

“ I don’t know. It’s not warm enough to go swimming.”

He shook his head as they continued down the road waving to various neighbors and classmates. The sun was out now, high in the sky beating down and burning their shoulders. They ended up pedaling out of the neighborhood and dropped their bikes at the end of a hill and hiked to the top. They could see almost the whole town from there. Nolan was stretched out laying on his back eyes closed. Even at 12 Nolan was all legs and arms, hair shaggy that he refused cut. His mom had given up chasing him around with scissors and threatening bodily harm if he didn’t keep it short.

“I’m so glad schools over.”

“Yeah me too. No more homework, no more class, no more hockey.”

“You love hockey.”

“ Well yeah I do but I like a good break now and again you know.”

They sat for a while talking about the important stuff all 12 year olds talk about until it got too hot. They trekked back down the hill and decided to go to Nolan’s. The sun was shining and the air was warm and what should have been the start of a fun filled summer was the day their lives were about to change. Nolan’s mom had come frantically running from the front door when she saw them coming up the front walk and ushered them both into the car.

Delaney Grey was gone, her car abandoned, and no one knew where she was. Sawyer watched the following days destroy her parents, and turn her world upside down. The discovery of her car and her body later on would change the course of Sawyers entire life. She would forever be known as the girl who’s sister was murdered. Nolan was more important to her than ever. His mom took her in, keeping her shielded and protected from things she didn’t need to see, and stepped in when her mom couldn’t.

Time passed, the wounds healed but her parents were never the same and never okay. A lot of it passed so quickly she woke some days and didn’t remember. But the time they turned 15 rumors and stares mostly died down, until the anniversary. It would always be a part of her, and something that would always affect her. But she had Nolan. So she would fine.

******

“Gosh it’s so hot.” Jessi was sitting on a lawn chair in Sawyers backyard, sunglasses perched on her nose. Jessie had become an unexpected and close friend over the school year. They had met in English class, and paired together in a project. Jessie had a purple streak in her long dark hair, and a nose ring but she was funny and the only person who she could spend long amounts of time with besides Nolan. He even liked her, and the two of them got along well. The girls had been laying out in their bathing suits for almost 45 minutes and the most color they had gotten was sunburn. Sawyer closed her eyes and tipped her head back. It was rare to have peaceful moments like this so she was going to cherish it.

“Speaking of hot-“Jessi lowered her glasses and nudged her chin forward. Nolan and Chase, along with some other guys she didn’t know had just pulled into her driveway.

“Are you sure you never hit that?” Jessi was talking about Nolan, as always. She didn’t understand how ‘two people so attractive could exist as just friends without sex’.

“No Jess, I have not.”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna now? I mean damn.”

“If you think he’s so hot why don’t you-“

“He’s way out of my league babe. I wouldn’t even try it. But you should.”

Nolan had immediately tried to get them to leave her driveway the minute they pulled up and he saw she was wearing a bikini.

“Oh hell no.” Chase said practically jumping out of the car. “Sorry Pat. You said I couldn’t touch, but you said nothing about looking.”

Nolan mumbled something and followed his friends into her backyard, already regretting not calling. Why couldn’t she be wearing clothing?

*******

Sawyer closed her locker, balancing her books in one arm as she clicked the lock shut. It was raining but it was Friday and school was halfway over. As she turned she bumped into a chest. She looked up, about to scold Nolan for sneaking up on her when she was greeted by Kyle Welch. Kyle was the captain of the football team and a pretty well known colossal dick, but all the same he was popular and someone she had never even spoken to. Her eyebrows shot up on her forehead and she took a step back.

Hi. Your Sawyer right?”

“I-Uh yeah?”

“Your in my English class right? We should study sometime.” He was smiling at her, all teeth like a fucking dragon. He was looking at her with the strangest of looks, one that made her very very uncomfortable. Like she was a piece of meat, a toy for him to play with.

“Uhm. Sure. I guess.”

He gave her another smile and a nod before walking down the hallway and disappearing.

She shook her head, still confused but began her walk to the cafeteria. She found Nolan and the rest of her friends seated at the usual table. She sat between Nolan and Chase, across from Jessie, still bothered by the exchange at her locker.

“Your never going to believe who asked me to study today.” She said as she bit into an apple slice from her spot between them.

“Who?” Chase asked turning to her, mouth full of sandwich.

“Kyle Welch.”

Nolan’s bottle of water banged loudly off the table as he dropped it and his head whipped towards her.

“He what?”

She nodded and as she went to speak Kyle himself passed by their table sending her a smile. Nolan was glaring at him so severely, if looks could kill Kyle would be dead and the football team would be out a captain.

“No fucking way are you helping that guy study.” Nolan said, face set in stone.

“Yeah I’m gonna have to second this one.” Chase said from her other side.

“I wasn’t going to anyways, I think he just did it to be a dick.” She could feel heat and tension radiating off of Nolan, though she wasn’t sure why. As far as she knew they had never had any interaction, and ran in separate circles. But he was still glaring at him all the same.

“I heard some pretty messed up shit about that guy.” Chase said, eyeing Kyle from across the room.

“Like what?” Jessie asked. She was staring at Nolan who was still visibly angry, eyebrows furrowed. She glanced at Sawyer, who shrugged and turned her attention to Chase.

“ I mean it’s just a rumor but someone said that spiked some girls drink at Jenny Miller’s party last year. And I guess she isn’t the only one. Apparently he’s done it before. Like I said, just what I heard but still alarming eh?”

“Just stay clear of him.” Nolan snapped. He was quiet for the rest of lunch till the bell rang. He gave her a long look as he stood, and then turned abruptly and left the cafeteria without another word.

“What’s his deal?” Jessi asked, making Chase roll his eyes.

“You know Nolan. Come on.” He said nudging Sawyer “We’re gonna be late.”

She had always tried to keep her distance from Kyle and his group of friends in general. Nolan had an issue with him that she never truly understood but because it was Nolan she trusted it was for a good reason. She was following behind Chase on the way to history, but as he rounded the corner Kyle reappeared in front of her separating them. Chase kept walking unaware that she was no longer behind him.

“Oh hi.” She said taking a step away from him. The hallway was mostly empty and he was way too close to her.

“So about studying. How about later?”

“Oh I Uhm. I don’t know.”

“Come on. My parents are gone for the weekend so we’ll have the place to ourselves.” He reached forward, and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She froze. Nolan had a habit of tucking her hair behind her ear, but it felt all wrong when Kyle did it, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“I can drive you to my house. It’ll be fun.”

“I usually drive home with-“

“Me.” She jumped and turned to find Nolan coming up behind her. He was glowering at Kyle over her shoulder, who looked at him unfazed.

“Is this your boyfriend or something?”

“Yeah I am. Let’s go.” He steered her away by the waist, and down the hall away from him.

“What the fuck was that about?” He stopped suddenly and spun to face her.

“He wanted me to come home with him after school. I said no.”

He rubbed his forehead eyes closed “Go to History. And wait for me after school. “

He left, storming down the hall leaving her standing in front of her classroom. After class she said goodbye to Chase and stuffed her books into her locker before walking out the back entrance of school. The rain had stopped but it was damp and chilly as she walked, avoiding puddles on the sidewalk. She rubbed her arms through her sweater, and as she turned the corner to the back of the building she stopped.

Kyle and a few of on his football buddies were hanging around, and turned to face her. Kyle smiled slowly, and gave her a once over, making her feel like she needed a shower. She felt trapped for a moment when she realized she was alone, the closest person being way ahead of her in the parking lot.

“Hey. Decided to take me up in my offer eh?” She was still glued to the spot.

“I was actually heading to meet Nolan. Excuse me.” She tried to brush past him but he grabbed her arm.

“Hey where you going?” He pulled her closer, fingers gripping her skin painfully. The other guys had wandered over, circling around laughing. She broke from his grasp only to have him catch both of her wrists and pull him to her.

“You should be thankful I’m even giving you the time of day.” He said coolly “Now how about you come get in my car and we’ll go to my house and you can get on your-“

“What is this?” Nolan had turned to corner with Rhett and Chase. Kyle released her and held his hands up. She bolted to Nolan, falling into his arms holding back tears. Had he not turned the corner she had no idea what would have happened. Kyle and his friends turned to leave, and he yelled over his shoulder.

“Have fun slumming Patrick.”

“I’ll kill him.”

“Whoa buddy. Calm down.” Chase said peering around him to look at her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine I just really wanna go home.” She swiped at a tear, as more came rolling down her cheeks, she heaved in a ragged breath. He had scared her, and made her feel small. She wondered if this was how her sister felt when she knew she was in trouble that day. Small and scared. And alone. Nolan ducked his head down to look at her.

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay let’s just go.” She walked with them to the car, several student noticing her red eyes and tears. She got in quickly, while Nolan said goodbye to the guys. The ride home was quiet. Too quiet. She felt disgusting, and every time she closed her eyes she could feel his breath on her face and his hands on her skin. Nolan was gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white face unreadable. When he pulled up to her house, he parked and sighed. No one was home, and though normally he would drop her off, he got out.

“I’m not leaving you here alone.”

She nodded and he followed her up the front steps and in the front door. She was still crying as she dropped her backpack by the door.

“Sawyer.” He said softly. She turned, head bowed and he very gently wrapped her in a hug, sobs wracking her body. They stayed like that for a while, till she was all cried out.

******

Nolan had completely forgotten that he promised Bo he would do an “interview” the best day. While he was annoyed, he was also relieved. They had been friends for a long time, and Bo took his mind off getting in his car and driving to Kyle’s house to murder him. Sawyer was going to come over afterwards. She was still upset, but was doing her best to mask it. He felt guilty for letting her walk out of school alone that day, when he would typically meet her by the entrance.

After the whole thing was over and Bo ended the interview, miffed that Nolan had answered the phone before he was done speaking, Nolan hung up and turned back to Bo who was smiling mischievously.

“ So?”

“What?”

Bo rolled his eyes “We all know who your best friend is Pat and we both know it’s neither one of those guys.”

Nolan rolled his eyes and scowled “ Leave her out of this.”

“I would but she’s just so hot-“

Before Bo could say anything else Nolan had pulled the back of his shirt over his head and had him in a tight neck lock. The other guys laughed immediately trying to turn the camera back on.

“Alright Jesus let go Pat! I was joking!”

He released him and pointed a finger threateningly at him as Bo straightened his shirt and started giggling.

“I’m serious-“

“I know Pat I would never do that. I thought you knew me better than that.”

That was Nolan’s worst fear. Most of his friends knew better than to even think about asking Sawyer out but it didn’t stop them from looking and making comments. The speculation that surrounded them had grown huge by the time they were in high school, and while it was exhausting to have to answer the same questions over and over again Nolan found that he didn’t really mind that people thought there was some attachment between them. It kept guys away from her and while he knew it was selfish he couldn’t help it. He just didn’t think anyone was good enough for her. He had purposely said someone else’s name when Bo asked so that they would leave him alone about her and it had backfired anyways.

It was frustrating for Nolan to know that given the opportunity all his friends would make some type of move on her, and he would break both his legs before that happened. He tried to keep a barrier between her and them but most of the time it didn’t work. She was just so damn friendly and approachable, her big smile pulled people in like a magnet.

“ I thought she’d be around, where is she anyway?”

“None of your business.”

Bo held his hands up, and as if on cue Sawyers car pulled into his driveway. Nolan had tried to hurry the process of the ‘interview’ hoping they would be gone before she got there but Bo had spent so much time goofing around they were behind schedule.

Great.

She stepped out, closed the door and made her way to Nolan’s back yard. Her hair was curly today, falling down her back to her waist. She had on a pair of jeans and a long sleeve grey shirt. Even completely covered the other guys had already given her a thorough once over and continued to stare as she came to stand next to him. Nolan gave Bo one last glare

“Hi.” Nolan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. For whatever the reason Nolan got slightly possessive over her in situations like this, which didn’t make sense because he wasn’t her boyfriend. But the arm that he wrapped around her shoulders stayed there, keeping her pulled flush to his side.

“Hi Bo.” She smiled at him, practically making the other guys flood Nolan’s yard with drool.

“Hey. Your boy here just hit me with a plastic ball right in the junk.”

“Well you probably deserved it.”

Nolan laughed and bid Bo and the others goodbye, as they filed out of his yard, and Sawyer followed him up the steps to his room and threw herself down on his bed. He pulled open a drawer and pulled his shirt off to put on a new one. Sawyer turned and felt a blush creep up her neck while he changed. She had seen him shirtless plenty of times but he had obviously been spending extra time in the gym and his long lanky frame was beginning to change.

What the hell am I saying? She shook her head and turned her attention to the tv instead, trying to ignore shirtless Nolan on the other side of the room. He pulled another shirt over his head and came to sit next to her.

“Tired?” He asked. She was curled in a ball, head on his pillow. She nodded and closed her eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep last night after you know-.”

He nodded “I’m still mad about it. But that’s never gonna happen again.”

He laid down next to her, settling in and flipped the tv on and she inches closer resting her head on his shoulder. She had an angry purple bruise on her wrist, another on her upper arm. He was pissed just looking at it. It was a reminder that he hadn’t been there to protect her.

Her eyes had slid closed. He was so warm and inviting and she felt safe and relaxed for the first time in 24 hours, as she felt his arm wrap around her shoulders. He felt her body grow heavy, and her breathing even out and grow slow. They were alone in his house, his parents and sisters were gone and would be for several hours. He reached a hand up and ran it tentatively through her hair. He always had his hands in her hair. It was thick and soft and caught the light just right when she moved. She stirred slightly, and wrapped an arm around his midsection, sighing. Her eyes opened and she tipped her head back to look up at him.

Nolan suddenly felt an extreme urge to kiss her. His eyes moved to her mouth, which was less than 6 inches from his own, and then back up to her eyes again. They stayed that way for a few moments before Nolan leaned forward slightly hand coming up to her face. Her heart rate increased as his nose brushed against hers. Their lips had just touched when the sound of a slamming door from downstairs made them jump apart and Sawyer moved clear across the bed away from him before standing up quickly. Nolan was alarmed at what had almost just happened and was rooted to the spot. She was backed up against the wall like a animal cornered in a cage, eyes large.

“Sawyer I-“

She hurried from the room, the sound of her feet carrying down the stairs, out his front door and into her car. He threw himself backwards and sighed.

Fuck.

******

Sawyer was standing with Jessie drink in hand when Bo came up behind her and bumped her shoulder.

“Your boy is here.” He motioned behind him with his head, and Sawyer rolled her eyes.

“He’s not my boy.” She looked over Bo’s shoulder and felt a twinge of annoyance. Nolan was standing with Rhett and Chase surrounded by a group of girls all giggling and twirling their hair around their fingers, giving them their best doe eyes. One girl in particular had Nolan’s attention, as he leaned against the wall hands in his pockets smiling as she spoke to him. The twinge of annoyance became anger. What the hell was he doing? He had nearly kissed her earlier that afternoon and now he was flirting with someone else?

“Kaylee Smith eh?” Jessie shook her head and took a sip out of her solo cup “Is anyone gonna tell him it’s supposedly like a cave down there?”

Bo stifled a laugh and looked at Sawyer. She was gripping her cup, other arm folded across her midsection.

“Well isn’t that just fucking cozy.”

She downed the rest of her drink and pushed through the crowd to get another one. Bo and Jessie watched her go before turning back to each other.

“This isn’t going to end well.”

“Maybe I should go warn Pat.”

Bo turned and weaved through the crowd of people, and gave Nolan a punch when he reached him. He turned pausing his conversation with Kaylee, and gave Bo a small smile.

“What’s up?”

“Can I talk to you?…. Alone?” Kaylee reached forward and gave Nolan’s hand a small squeeze before she turned to walk away.

“I’ll talk to you later.” She gave him a smile over the shoulder which he returned, and turned to leave with her friends.

“Are you a moron?” Bo asked arms folded. Nolan frowned, and Rhett and Chase both let out a chuckle.

“What?”

“Your about to cause a serious cat fight my guy.”

“Cat fight? I’m down for a cat fight.” Chase was snickering over the top of his solo cup, as he surveyed the girls in the living room.

“Who?” Nolan was confused. He had been talking to Kaylee since he had arrived and she was definitely flirting with him. He didn’t really have any interest in her, but he also didn’t have a girlfriend so he let her continue. And then it hit him. Sawyer had to be around here somewhere and no doubt it looked from the outside that he was going to take Kaylee home.

“Where is she?” Bo was frowning at him, and shook his head.

“What is up with you two? Your friends but I don’t think your really just friends-“

“Please dude we’ve had this conversation with him a million times and he refuses to budge.”

“Where is she?” Nolan repeated more forcefully this time. After what had happened earlier he had to at least explain himself. He couldn’t see her but he did see Jessie making her way through the crowd. He pushed in between them and caught her by the elbow.

“Nolan hi.” She knew what he wanted, but Sawyer had asked her to cover so she was going to.

“Where is she Jessie?”

“I don’t know honestly. I lost her a little bit ago. Check the bathroom maybe?”

Jessie’s face was solid as steel. She wasn’t going to tell him anything.

Sawyer in the mean time was in the kitchen pouring alcohol into a cup when she felt a presence behind her. Kaylee smith was leaning against the counter behind her, arms crossed. She had never spoken a word to her before so she wasn’t sure why she was in her space now.

“Sorry do you need something?” She wasn’t usually this snippy but she was already annoyed and the source of her annoyance was way too close for her liking.

“What’s with you and Nolan?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going home with him, and I just want to make sure you aren’t together.”

Sawyer giggled into her cup, before sipping off the top of it and shook her head as it burned all the way down her throat. “Your awfully sure of yourself huh?”

She pursed her lips in a tight smile, head turning to the side “Honey, I always get what I want. So you can find your own way home tonight. Kay?” She gave a wide nasty smile and Sawyer saw red.

“You really think he’s taking you home? Then you don’t really know Nolan at all. And don’t ever think he’ll take you home over me. Ever.”

At that moment Nolan himself entered the kitchen looking relieved to find her and then awkward when he realized she wasn’t alone. Kaylee smiled at him but he brushed past her and stood between them.

“Can I talk to you.” He gently grabbed Sawyers elbow and pulled her out of the kitchen. She sent a small smile at Kaylee over her shoulder as he steered her away, and left her standing in the kitchen mouth open. Once out of sight she pulled her arm from his grip and nearly stumbled, catching herself on the wall.

“Are you drunk?”

“Not enough.” She took another sip of her drink and ran her fingers through her hair before she turned on him.

“You and Kaylee smith huh?” She was squinting at him, cheeks red, hand on her hip. She looked angry, but Nolan wasn’t sure why because he hadn’t done anything.

“What? No.”

“Oh please.” She jabbed a finger into his chest, and stumbled back from the force of it “I saw her all googledneyes-gogole eyeed” Nolan was almost tempted to laugh as she stumbled over her words eyebrows furrowed as she struggled to say what she was trying to.

“Okay. I think it’s time to take you home.”

“She said you were taking her home.”

“God no. I’m taking you home. Now let’s go.”

He said goodbye to his friends and put her in the car. Her house was dark which meant no one was home. He had a hell of a time getting her out and up the stairs. He had just gotten her in the door when he felt her start to shake. At first he thought she was going to puke and immediately held her out at arms length, and rubbed against the wall near the light switch trying to turn it on with no hands. But when she let out a whimper he realized she wasn’t about to get sick.

“Are you crying?”

“No.” She choked out, bracing a hand on his arm as she almost fell in the doorway.

“What’s wrong?”

“She’s gonna take you away.”

“What? Who?”

“Kaylee what’s her name? Girlfriends never let guys have girl beat friends.”

“Oh my god are you-stop.” He heaved her up the stairs as tear flowed down her face. He turned her around so her arms were around his neck, face tucked into his shoulder. She had herself pulled so tightly against him he was struggling to get up the stairs. He had one hand firmly on her lower back, the other one he was using to pull himself up the stairs by the railing. She let out a particular loud sob, and Nolan tired to pull her off of him to look at him, but she just held him tighter.

“Im not even into her like that.”

“Her. Someone else. Doesn’t matter. They’ll take you from me.” She whispered against his neck. Her words touched Nolan’s heart.

“That’s never gonna happen okay?” He opened her bedroom door and walked her forward to her bed losing his footing and falling down into bed with her. They landed, bed springs squeaking with a small ‘oof’. Her tears had subsided and she was laying with her eyes closed on her pillow as he untangled himself from her.

“ Nolan?” Sawyer asked face against the pillow

“ Hmmmmm?”

“ Do you still love me?” He chuckled and pulled the covers up over her, pushing her hair from her face. She was flushed and her eyeliner was smudged around the eyes from her crying, but she opened them and stared at him waiting for his answer.

“ Of course I do. Why?”

She sat up suddenly, getting right up in his face. He was frozen as she stared at him, lips pushing up against his, arm wrapping around his neck. It was chaste at first but then she pressed harder and pulled herself flush to him. Like his body was on autopilot he let his tongue trace across her lower lip, and she opened her mouth allowing him to push it inside. Her heart was beating hard in her chest as one of his hands tangled in her hair and gripped the back of her neck. They carried on a few more moments till he felt her tug at the bottom of his shirt.

“No Sawyer.”

She looked shocked, and then angry as she backed up against her headboard.

“Did you say no? “

“Yes I did.”

She sputtered for a moment, genuine hurt clouding her face. Nolan felt bad but he had to put his foot down.

“ What? Not pretty enough?”

“No that has nothing to do with it. I’m not gonna let you do this when your drunk. Now go to bed. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” She blinked sadly and laid down facing away from him. She was out within seconds and Nolan sighed looking down at her. He laid down on the sofa at the opposite end of her room, and folded his arm beneath his head as stared at the ceiling.

What the hell was going on?

Sawyer woke up with a raging headache the next morning. Her whole body hurt, and her mouth tasted like booze. She blinked a few times before she lifted her head and immediately put it back on her pillow. Her clothing from the night before was still on and as she curled up to snuggle deeper under the blankets her foot hit something. She froze and turned slowly to find Nolan was sitting up next to her on her bed, doing something on his phone. Her curtains were drawn shut and the room was still dark, but the the tv was on. She could hear the putter patter of rain on her window and could see the dark clouds through a sliver of window not covered by the curtain. He looked down when she stirred and smiled.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a train. She rolled over to face him, head still on her pillow.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll stay for a while.”

She nodded and yawned snuggling in closer to him. He reached a tentative hand up and let his fingers run through her hair. She was asleep within a few minutes, her head resting on her pillow by his hip. She didn’t remember last night and he wouldn’t tell her about it. It was a secret he would keep, and kiss he would try to forget.

Nolan never spoke of it to anyone, not his friends, family no one. It was a secret he would take with him not only for his own sake but for hers as well. He didn’t know what she was going through but what had happened last night could have changed everything. He had thankfully not been drinking at that point, because if he had he wasn’t so sure he would have stopped her. The way she had kissed him had sent a chill up his spine. He buried it, and things between them went back to normal, but sometimes late at night when he couldn’t sleep it floated into his mind, and though he would never admit it to anyone but his own conscience, he wanted to do it again.

*******

“Nolan James you are cutting this hair whether you like it or not.” His mom said as she shoved him out the door and into the car. Sawyer was chuckling as she buckled herself in the backseat. He threw his head against the passenger seat. He had worked so hard to grow it out.

“I will not have you looking like a homeless child when you get drafted.”

“Everyone wears it this way now mom-“

“Well you don’t.” Nolan grumbled, and bitched and moaned through the whole thing. His mom made him take it short, shorter than it had been in a long time. He looked clean cut and presentable, but she liked it long.

“You look SO handsome.” She said smiling at him through the mirror. He looked sadly at the long pieces that littered the floor.

“I better get drafted really high for this.”

*******

“Philadelphia selects from the Western Hockey League’s Brandon Wheat Kings, Nolan Patrick.”

Sawyer covered her mouth, blinking away the tears in her eyes. She watched as Nolan stood, and hugged his parents and sisters before turning to her and pulling her into a very long hug.

“I couldn’t have made it this far without you.” He whispered, before releasing her and walked up to the stage, and pulled on the orange sweater.

He had made it. And she was so proud of him. His mom gave her a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s so important to him that your here.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” She swiped at a tear, and clapped along with the rest of the crowd as Nolan stood on the stage and officially became a Philadelphia Flyer. She knew this meant she was going to lose him, that he would be far away and make new friends, and maybe even meet the girl he would spend the rest of his life with. But he had made it and that was all that mattered. When everything was all said and done, interviews completed and photos taken, it was just them alone in her hotel room. They had broken into the mini bar, and were laying on their back in the bed. The orange jersey hung on the back of a chair, and her black dress was hung on a hanger, shoes on the floor.

“How does it feel?” She asked quietly. The sun had just started to go down, the tv was on and she was sleepy from the long day and the alcohol. He shrugged.

“Nols you got drafted today. That’s a big thing.”

“Yeah. But it means I’m going to have to leave you.”

He turned his head to look at her. He was happy about the draft, but his whole life was in Winnipeg, with his family, his friends, and her. And he would leave all that at the end of the summer.

“I’m not going anywhere Nols. I’ll be here when you leave, and I’ll be here when you get back.”

There wasn’t much talking the rest of the night. They chose to sit in comfortable silence till they both fell asleep. They spent as much time together that summer as they could, clinging on to the last moments together for dear life. They were both absolutely terrified of being without each other for the first time in almost 19 years. She would have to re adjust her life at home without him, and he would have to start over somewhere new without her.

The night before he was due to leave they hiked up to the top of that hill they had sat on the day her sister disappeared. It was dark by the time they reached the top, the sounds of nightfall echoing through the trees. The moon was high in the sky, casting a pale milky glow over the trees and hills. The light sod town seemed so far away as they sat neither one saying a word.

“Will you come visit?” He asked quietly. She nodded.

“Of course. As soon as I can. Your gonna have so much fun in Philly Nolan.”

“I guess.”

It was quiet for a while before Nolan couldn’t take it anymore. He had been dying the last few months, each day getting shorter and shorter as it passed. His time with her seemed like it was being robbed from him. He went over it a million times in his head. And he always came back to the night she kissed him. A night she didn’t even remember and he would never forget.

“Sawyer.” He said suddenly, startling her. She was so used to him mumbling his way through life it took her aback how deep his voice was when he spoke clearly.

“What?”

“Can I- I just. Maybe this is just me being…whatever about leaving tomorrow but, can I…can I kiss you?”

She sucked in a breath, feeling like her chest was constricting. They had not spoken of their almost kiss the day he took her home when she was drunk, and she had pushed it out of her mind as a pity kiss for what had happened at the school the day prior. She didn’t remember the other one, and here he was asking her to do it again. He stared at her for a long time waiting for an answer. She didn’t know why she did it, she couldn’t think of a reason, she could barely even formulate words, but somehow she managed to say.

“Yes.”

He rose to his feet and extended a hand pulling her up with him. Her heart was clocking around in her chest, as she watched his hand moved forward and came to rest on her cheek. He stepped forward, pulling her against him very gently before he leaned down and brushed her nose with his own, before he pressed his lips to hers.

It wasn’t a heavy make out like in a movie. It was soft and slow, and shorter than she wanted it to be. When they broke apart, he sighed and let his forehead fall against her own.

“I don’t want to leave tomorrow.”

******

She watched with tears in her eyes as Nolan hugged his parents, various aunts uncles and friends at the airport. There had been no more talking, or kissing the night before. She didn’t know why he had done it, but it felt like it was okay. He finally turned to her, eyes sad and took a deep breath.

“Don’t cry.” He said as she fell slowly into him, arms coming around his midsection. A series of silent tears fell from her eyes as he rubbed a hand up her back. She knew this moment was coming, but she wasn’t ready for it. He pulled back to look at her, hands resting on her shoulders. She had her head bowed, two fistfuls of the material of his sweatshirt. His mom motioned for the rest of the group to turn around, and give them some privacy.

“Nolan.” Her voice caught in her throat. He reached forward and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear for what felt like the last time.

“I’ll see you soon.” He gave her a small smile, and let go of her still grasping her hand as he walked away towards the gate until they both let go. She wrapped her arms around her middle. She watched until he disappeared through security before she let out a choked sob. Bo, Jessi, And Chase immediately pulled her into a three way hug, and allowed her to cry on their shoulders right there in the airport.

*******

I hope you like this! It was both funny and sad and special to write! Let me know what you think💕

[mistabullets]

Okay! Imagine! Mista with a S/o that IS Bruno's little sister

> As Bruno’s sister, you respect and appreciate your fratellone.

> He made sure to give you plenty attention when the two of you were younger and in a way, he’s very protective of you. When your father became disabled from the gunshot wounds, Bruno basically raised you and made sure you continue your education. Growing up, it eventually clicked that your older brother was working for the mafia. How else can such a young man his age able to afford your schooling, the nice apartment complex, and your father’s hefty medical bills?

> It made you worried. What if Bruno accidentally cross the wrong people? What if he never came home? You offered to find work, drop out of school, or just do something to ease the burden. You even offered to join Passione but your brother particularly seethed at the idea. “Under absolutely no circumstances will you be doing that, rella. Do me a favor - promise me you will not associate with anyone else in Passione. Am I clear?”

> Swallowing nervously, you promised. He even made you pinky promise.

> Life moved on. Your father passed and Bruno became more committed to his work as he rose through the ranks. Eventually, Bruno found you a nice place in town and paid for your tuition for school. Your essentials were covered. He even made you change your last name so you weren’t associate with him in anyway or form. Bruno always made sure to call you once in day and check in - he was such a mother hen. But you wanted to try to live independently! So you picked up a part time job, perhaps at some cafe, bakery, or restaurant. You didn’t tell your brother about it, since he would throw a fit and tell you to focus on your studies.

> That’s how you met him.

> He was a frequent customer and was quite the looker. A toned body, sun kissed skin, warm dark eyes, and curls peaking out of his hat. He always bought a lot of food - like he had a whole family to feed. But you never questioned it because he was so friendly, maybe a bit too eccentric but endearingly so - sometimes you would sneak him an extra of his favorites. You eventually became aware of his phobia of four and made sure not to give him four of anything. Weeks later, you were bold enough to write your number on a napkin when he made a passing comment how it sucked being single.

> He gave a lopsided smile and asked for your name. You kindly gave it to him and he told you his name. “Guido Mista. I’ll call ya later tonight, Y/N! Maybe we can set up a date or somethin’?”

> When you arrived him, you were eager to receive his call and was pleased when your heard your phone ringing. Eventually, you did set up the date. That date became multiple dates. He started coming over to your apartment and staying the night. It was safe to say the two of you were an item now. There were some questions you would like to ask; why did he have a gun? Why did he talk to himself a lot? How come sometimes he would smell like... iron and death? And god, how much could this man eat? But you assured yourself that it was nothing too serious to fret over. You were just over analyzing.

> Bruno figures out pretty quickly you had a boyfriend and wanted to meet him. But you were quite worried about introducing each other. Your brother was essentially your father figure; he will make it obvious if he approves of your boyfriend or not. You kept postponing dates to meet up - it’s not like you didn’t want Mista to meet Bruno but your brother could be nitpicky about if your lover was good enough for you or not. You didn’t want Guido to feel any pressure from your brother. He was already good enough for you and that’s what matters.

> However Mista is more than eager to introduce you to his familigia. “Well, it’s more like, me and five of dudes but they’re particularly like bros to me!”

> After hearing nothing but praise from your boyfriend, you were looking forward to meeting them as well. When approaching the villa, you wondered how six men in their late teens and early twenties can afford to board such an estate. You were greeted by four other men - a pretty blonde with curls and a braid greeted you, a studious young man in green teaching a messy haired with purple eyes, and a brooding man with long silver hair tuning out the world with his headphones.

> “Finally we can have dinner!” Narancia shouts.

> “Narancia, you dumbass, we have a guest here! And we need to finish this problem here!” Fugo exclaims, looking like he wants to stab the boy.

> “Will the two of you shut up? I can hear you through my headphones and our capo is still doing paperwork upstairs!” Abbacchio takes a glance up at you, “You look quite familiar...” he murmurs.

> Giorno leads you to the kitchen and it smells like your mother’s home meals. You settle in a seat right next to Mista and you can hear your stomach growl. “Our capo was expecting ya and took the time out of his day to make this dish! He’s honestly a really good cook when he wants to be. He’s honestly like, the big brother of this group, aside from Abba over there—“

> “Don’t call me that,” Abbacchio sighs, popping open a bottle of red wine. You giggle - despite the chaos and the energy strumming through the air, you can appreciate how homely it is. You’re growing comfortable already, Mista already has a hold of your hand under the table, happy that everyone so far has been welcoming in their own unique way. You’re growing used the all the noises and clattering of plates, you don’t hear the footsteps approaching. You raise your head up to greet the new presence, only to find a familiar face that looks much like your own. The rest of the gang noticed and perks up, wondering why the two of you look so taken aback.

> “B-Bruno?” you ask in disbelief

> “Huh? Ya know Bucciarati or somethin’, bambina?” your boyfriend ask, swallowing nervously.

> “We do. She’s my sister, after all,” Bruno responds, collecting his composure despite Narancia in the background saying “holy shit that’s your sister?” Even Abbacchio lets out a surprised gasp. Mista is glancing at the two of you, back and forth, the similarities of facial structures and eyes now dawning on the gunslinger. What a small world. And you, on the other hand, are now coming to realization that this must be Bruno’s team. So that means... you’ve been dating a mafioso for the past months now - the gun and the smell of iron (no, blood) made a sense now. And you inadvertently broke Bruno’s promise: to not associate with a gangster.

Perhaps after dinner, we can talk about this.” Oh no. Was he angry? Upset? There was something laced with his words. Dinner passed by with awkward silence, despite how delicious the food was. No wonder it smelled so much like home... You held onto to Mista’s hand, as if to reassure him. And while he couldn’t grasp the entirety of the situation, he tried to sympathize with his capo. He understood why you may have been kept a secret - Passione’s underbelly screamed dangerous and someone would definitely try to use you as bait for Bucciarati. After all, Polpo’s suicide was still being investigated and there have been rumors flying around about how suspicious it was that one of Bruno’s subordinates last saw him alive. This double your risk. Not only was your brother a capo for Passione but your boyfriend was gunslinger for mafia as well.

> After dinner, Bruno wants to talk to Mista alone. You dread whatever his verdict will be and wait outside silently, hoping your brother doesn’t force Mista to cut things off with you. To be frank, you didn’t mind Guido being part of the mafia - sure, it was scary to ponder if your loved one was okay and wonder if they’ll come home alive. But Bruno had survived for this long. Guido definitely had the will to do the same. And you doubt this man would wanna put you in active harm’s way! He cried one time for accidentally hitting your face during a tickle fight once so you knew his motives weren’t ulterior.

> Bruno questioned Mista like it was an interrogation. While he knew his underling was a good man at heart, Bruno couldn’t help but worry for his baby sister - that was his only family left. He was surprised to learn the two of you met at your part time job. Bruno specifically told you not to worry about finances! “Listen Bucciarati, ya sis loves ya. She talks ‘bout what a great guy ya are ‘nd how much you’ve done for her. But... you also been makin’ her feel sheltered. She was so nervous ‘bout us meeting. I... I know ya wanna protect her and so do I! But ya can’t be babyin’ her forever. Ya gotta let her make her own choices. So I ain’t gonna break up with her. That’s up to her, for her to decide, ya know?”

> After reflecting on the younger man’s words, he reluctantly agrees with him. Sure, you are his baby sister but you’re an adult and can make your own decision. You can distinguish what is and isn’t safe. Obviously, you’re not that naive. And perhaps with the gang knowing about your existence, that would grant you extra protection if anything were to happen. He sighs, “Fair enough. But if you break my sister’s heart, I will lock you up in Sticky Finger’s dimension. And make sure you protect her. Understood, Mista?”

> Mista particularly beams. “Understood, capo! Thank ya for blessin’, I promise I’ll take care of her.”

> In the end, you continue to date Mista. It definitely takes awhile to adjust - while your brother is understanding your relationship and respects it, he’ll glare daggers at Mista if he’s being a little too touchy during dinners and outings. You thank Bruno for allowing this relationship and apologize for accidentally breaking that one promise.

> He smiles at you softly, finding it endearing how you kept that to heart. “Well, promise me not to do anything stupid and keep up with your studies, alright?” he offers his pinky to you.

> “Alright, I promise!”

> “Oh, I don’t even think about marriage and kids until you’re done with your studies—“

> “Bruno, hush!”

[myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants]

This is my first collab fic and I could not be more excited! I'm so thankful that I can be part of the group!

The AU for this month was Sex Work. The Masterlist for this collab can be found here. Please take some time to check out everyone's contributions! There are other fics and amazing art!

That being said here is my fic, big BIG shout out to @doinmybesthere for being an amazing beta reader and sweet angel bb. ily Emme!

Please please please read the warnings. They are there for a reason!

Warnings: consensual noncon, mentions of being burnt, stabbing and blood; no prep penetration, disrespectful use of the word "whore", blackmail, psychological abuse?, Mineta (nuff said) he gets what's comin to him

You’re in the doctor’s office getting a regular checkup when you overhear the nurses in the station next to you talking.

“Look! They posted the new hero rankings today.”

“I forgot those were today, too bad they can’t have the conference during the pandemic. I miss seeing Deku all cute and blushing.”

“FUCK” In your brief moment of panic you forgot where you were. You cringe and look at the nurses, trying your best not to look like you were gonna be sick. “Sorry ladies, didn’t mean to yell.” No point in offering an explanation. You wouldn’t be able to tell them anything anyway.

As you very impatiently wait for your blood results to come back you check the tacky red cell phone you have to keep with you at all times. You had put it on silent since you were in the doctor’s office and you were glad you did. Taking a quick look at your screen had your stomach dropping into your ass.

M.M: Gonna move my appointment up to today.

M.M: You better get ready. I’m not happy.

M.M: I’m sure you saw the postings. Number 36.

M.M: I made sure to pay for any accidents in advance.

M.M: I’ll see you tonight.

Why does he have to be so fucking horrible? Accidents my ass.

The messages make your skin crawl, you should have figured the hero rankings would piss him off but honestly you never paid enough attention. With a heavy sigh you opened up your web browser and pull up the list.

“Number 36...number 36…. Number 36…” When you finally reached the hero you were looking for, you let out a sigh.

Hero Ranking Number 36: The Rainy Season Hero Froppy

Well at least you had her outfit already, for some reason she was one your client asked for a lot. Not that you wanted to ask him why, not with the way his black eyes looked whenever he saw you dressed up like her.

I don’t know if I should feel glad that he isn’t actually taking this out on her. Or upset that I’ve had to deal with this for months.

“L/N, Y/N?” The doctor walks up holding their clipboard and closing the privacy screen. Your file almost too much for the metal clip at the top. “Your test results came back negative and your burns seem to have healed very well. I would tell you that any strenuous activity should be avoided but we both know you can’t do that.”

Their poor attempt at humor had your stomach rolling. “Haha anyways Doc, I think I’m gonna need another medkit to take home today. I can schedule my next appointment online, right?”

You can’t handle the thinly veiled pity in their eyes and look down, reaching over to your side to grab your purse. You hear them moving around and a dark blue plastic box is put on your lap.

“If I remember correctly this is your favorite color, right? You are able schedule an appointment online but if you would like I can schedule it for you. How about in two days? Afternoon work for you?”

You look up after clutching the kit to your chest, you know they are just trying to be nice. All of the nurses are especially nice to you and as endearing as it might be to some people, to you it just feels dirty.

“Afternoon is perfect, thanks Doc.” You get up and walk towards the privacy screen. Before leaving you stop for a moment “Blue ismy favorite color.”

As you make your way back to your living quarters you scroll through the internet looking at every picture of the Pro-Hero Froppy you can find. Your quirk can project a person’s desires onto your body by reading them in their eyes. It’s easier when the person has a clear view of what or who they want. However, your client’s desires are such a jumbled mess that it’s easier if you know what it is beforehand.

Hopefully, I can act like her enough that I don’t have to look at his desires this time. I can’t stand how disgusting they make me feel.

You pass by a few familiar faces on your way back to your rooms but don’t pay them any mind. They in turn leave you alone, most of them knowing that when you have that look on your face you were in a mood.When you first were offered a position at the brothel you thought it would be easy money. You had been stripping for several years, known for how you looked different to everyone who saw your dancing. The beautiful, enchanting, flexible Erised. You had built up your quirks ability to be able to project almost a full clubs worth of desires. Sure, it caused extreme fatigue and chronic migraines but the money you raked in was well worth it.

A few months ago

After an especially successful night a patron walks up to you after you leave the stage.

“I have a job opportunity for you, courtesy of my employer.” He hands you a card you read “Heroes Consulting Agency” in bold silver letters.

“I’m a stripper hun, not sure I can do the type of consulting you’re looking for.” You go to hand it back, but they put their hand up.

“I’m afraid I must insist, why don’t we treat you to lunch and you can listen to our proposal?”

You put your hand back down and study them. They are dressed in a white button up with a vest, definitely out of place in a strip club. You would look in their eyes, but they didn’t really have any, their whole body seemed to be made of dark smoke. You don’t work in the nicest of places so someone with their kind of full body quirk isn’t unusual.

“Alright, I give. I’m not really one to pass up free food.” The rational side of your brain is telling you that you have more than enough money to buy your own food but the stingy part telling you to take it while you can is a little louder.

“Excellent choice Miss Erised. Someone will meet you at the address on that card tomorrow at around 5pm? Should give you enough time to recover from the side effects of your quirk.” They give a slight bow and walk off towards the exit, a large something getting up from a seat and following closely behind.

Sam, one of the waitresses walks up to you with a tray filled with drinks. Her normally short stature elevated with high heeled leather boots. “Did you know that person Y/N?”

Oh man, I do not have the energy for this.

You turn to her and survey the tray before grabbing something that looked like a fruity cocktail. “No, but they offered me a job. Gonna go have lunch with them tomorrow.” Sipping from the glass you tuck the card into your bra, making sure to not show it to the girl.

“That’s weird, don’t they know you’re a stripper? What is someone dressed that nicely want to hire you for? Also did that person look familiar to you or is that just me?” Any normal person wouldn’t be able to keep up with her unending questions, but you had known her for years. The tray in her hands tips dangerously to the left but she balances it out without a second thought.

Guess she does have to be quick on her toes to be a waitress at a strip club.

“They were here for my dance so yes they do know, either way I’m getting free food so…”

She huffs, aware of your attitude for anything “free”.

You finish the drink and place the empty glass back taking a couple bills from your bag and tucking them into her apron.

“Thanks for the drink Sam, but I gotta leave before my headache hits.” You walk off before she can say anything further. You really wanna be nice to her but her endless energy really gets on your nerves sometimes.

By the time you make it to your modest apartment, you can feel the pain starting behind your eyes. You drop your stuff by the door without turning on any lights and walk to the box safe hidden in the kitchen. After you make sure all the money is secure you grab a glass of water and head to the bedroom. The bottle of pain killers already set out on your nightstand. You should really take a shower but for now, you strip down, take a few pills, drink the whole glass of water, and lay down. It takes a while for the pills to kick in but once they do you finally fall asleep.

When you finally wake up the next morning your headache is gone, and you have to piss like no one’s business. You grumble as you stretch your tight sore muscles and get up to go to the bathroom. After taking care of business, you get into some light clothes and walk into the kitchen to make some food. Thankfully, you had some leftover rice and spam in the fridge, so you pop that in the microwave. You put the kettle on for some green tea and down another glass of water as it heats up.

Remembering the offer from yesterday and the promise of free food you pad over to your pile of things by the door and grab their card. It’s sleek looking with a plain black background and silver lettering. The address isn’t something you recognize right away so you look it up on your phone.

“What the fuck?” Why is this place in a business park?

You scroll down and check the street view; the building is a high rise surrounded by a mostly empty parking lot. The entrance of the building is blurred, probably to keep the privacy of anyone entering or exiting.

“Well, I guess it’s a nice gig. Better dress the part.” Or maybe you’re gonna get murdered.

“Wow, I really have to stop watching all those true crime shows.” You put the card in your wallet and head back to the kitchen. The microwave beeps and the kettle whistles shortly after. When you’re done eating you put the dishes in the sink to soak and head to the bathroom to finally take a shower.

By the time you have finished showering the whole bathroom is filled with steam and your body has a pink flush to it. You open the door to air it out and finish cleaning up for the day. Your outfit consists of your nicest jeans with ankle boots, a long sleeve blouse and a dark cardigan. You grab one of your smaller over the shoulder purses and leave your apartment.

One of the things you allowed yourself to really splurge on was a car. Public transportation was not as reliable as it could be and with your hours not the safest either.

By the time you make it to the building the sun is starting to set, giving the sky beautiful pink to blue coloring. As you park and get out of your car a young woman walks up to you.

“Welcome Miss Erised! Please follow me and I will escort you through the building.” The woman’s blonde hair is in two messy buns, her face childlike. Her voice was high pitched enough to grate on your nerves a bit, but you ignored it.

As you follow the person through the lobby you take a glance around. Looks like a high-end hotel lobby. There is a front desk area with a marble counter top, women that are dressed in matching button ups with their hair up in buns or ponytails. Random potted plants and small trees dot the area, and a nice chandelier hangs in the middle of the ceiling. No one besides the women at the front desk are in the area.

“Doesn’t seem to be busy right now.” You didn’t even really mean for her to hear you, but she did, and you sounded like an asshole.

They turn their head slightly with a knowing smirk. “It would seem that way wouldn’t it?”

Conversation halts while you stand in the elevator which you were thankful for. They had chosen a floor close to the middle of the building, which gave you just enough time to rethink your life choices.

By the time you got to your floor you are tired of the silence. Normally you hate small talk, but you figured you would give it a shot. “Do you like your job?”

The woman turns to you and smiles, here canines peeking out a bit while shrugging her shoulders. “It keeps me busy, plus I get to make so many friends.” The gleam in her eyes flashes menacingly for a quick second, you decide to pretend you didn’t see it.

As you get to the end of the hall, she opens a door and gestures you inside, closing it behind you. There is a nice desk to the left of the door, other than that the room is sparce. The person sitting in the chair has quite an eclectic look about him. Grey hair parted to the side, shrew eyes behind circular wire rimmed glasses, a gold chain peeks out from the slightly open white button up with a purple blazer. He reeks of cigarette smoke the evidence of his habit tossed into the half-filled ash tray on the desk.

“So nice of you to join me Miss Y/N. Why don’t you have a seat, we can talk about your new position.” He gestures to the only other chair a smirk on his face that shows of his missing tooth.

“I haven’t accepted the job yet Giran, and I thought I told you I don’t want to work for you.” You aren’t used to seeing him in this type of place. But you do know him so there is no need to put on a show. You lean back in the chair and cross your arms.

“How rude of me, you won’t be working for me, but I have been given authority to hire for this company.”

You don’t bat an eye; most large companies use outside help for hiring. “What is this position you would like offer me?”

“This company provides heroes with a way to alleviate their… desires in a safe and discrete way.”

“So, you hire prostitutes for heroes to have sex without worrying about anyone telling the press about it.”

“That is correct.”

“I don’t know if your just stupid or if you forgot but I’m a stripper not a hooker.” You sit up in your chair fully ready to leave the room.

“They would provide you with a fully furnished apartment, medical coverage with 24/7 access to their fully trained medical staff. Any cash given to you by your clients you can keep, however they would take a percentage out of the money they initially pay for your services.”

“Let’s say I’m a little interested, how much is the initial pay for my services?” You want to deny the offer, nothing wrong with having sex for money but it isn’t really your thing.

Giran doesn’t answer right away, instead putting out what is left of his cigarette only to pull another one out of his blazer and lighting it up. “The starting hourly rate is $2,500 an hour, they would take 30 percent from that.”

Holy shit, that’s as much as I make in a day and I would be making it an hour? You keep your face neutral but something in your eyes must have tipped him off.

“You would start tomorrow; most clients keep a contract with their favorite employee and we actually have someone lined up for you already. He has extremely specific tastes and you are the perfect person to fill in.”

“I’ll have to talk to the club owner; would it be possible to start later?” You don’t want to seem to eager, especially not in front of him.

“I don’t see that as a problem, they can give you one week but that’s it.”

You stay silent, making it look like you’re thinking about it. After a moment you lean forward in your chair and stick your hand out. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

Giran grabs you hand and gives it a firm shake. “If you ever need help or have any questions call the number on the card. Now I believe you were offered dinner, let me take you to one of my favorite places.”

You let his hand go and rise from the chair. As Giran comes around the desk and walks towards the door, he stops for a moment and turns to you. “Welcome to the team.”

Dinner was actually genuinely nice; the food was good, and you were able to have a comfortable conversation with Giran. Of course, he didn’t tell you anything about himself, but you had no problems with that, you didn’t wanna share anything to personal about yourself either. He dropped you back off at your car after dinner and shook your hand again before driving off.

By the time you got home you had decided what you were gonna tell the club owner and mentally packed your apartment. Not wanting to take all of your things you moved most of it to a secure storage facility. Having had it for a few years already in order to store the overabundance of clothes you owned.

After the week was up you had quit your job and packed all of your belongings. You realize you don’t know where you are supposed to go so you pull out the card and call the number.

“Hello, how can I assist you?”

“Giran never told me where I would be moving my stuff to. Could you give me the address?” You pick at your nails while waiting for him to answer.

“Of course, Miss Erised. Will you be needing any assistance for your move?”

He sounds so polite; I wonder if he is always like this.

“No, I’ll be fine on my own thank you.”

He gives you the address and let you know that you can call if you need any additional information.

“Good luck Miss Erised.”

When you get back to your apartment you immediately go into the shower and wash up, using the tea tree oil that Froppy had said she uses in an interview.

I don’t understand how people can like this stuff, but he gets easier to handle if I smell like those women.

When you are done you towel dry your hair and make sure to lotion your whole body. When your hair is dry enough you straighten it and leave it down. He likes it better when its down.

You go to your closet and rifle through until finding the very skimpy version of Froppys hero costume. All it really has in common with the original is the tan harness and the green with black and yellow stripes. Otherwise, it is a one-piece bikini without a crotch. You grab your black leather over the knee boots and get dressed. After checking the time, you give yourself a moment to mentally prepare.

I hate this, I hate him. Disgusting filthy little bug. A false hero, a plague. I can’t wait to leave this place.

Standing in the middle of your room you close your eyes and take deep breaths, allowing your consciousness to drift. You have found that the best way to endure these sessions is to detach yourself from the situation. Only focusing on the absolute necessary and maintaining the effects of your quirk. Giving yourself another minute to get into character you walk to the door joining your apartment to the “service room”.

Thankfully, he hasn’t shown up yet, you shut the door hearing the lock click into place, the door seamlessly vanishing into the wall. Sitting on the edge of the bed you face the door that Mineta will walk through and wait.

No matter how many times we do this I never lose the feeling of wanting to vomit while bathing in bleach.

When he walks in you see that he is wearing his hero costume, as atrocious as it is. He never really deviated from the original design. You immediately start your performance.

“Mineta? What am I doing here? kero” You clasp your hands together in front of your chest and look around frightfully.

“Hello Tsu, what a pleasant surprise to see you here.” He walks up, taking off his gloves and throwing them to the side.

“I don’t understand, do you know where- “Your sentence is cut off, pain in your cheek sharp and hot.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to talk Miss thirty sixth hero.” He stands there with his hand still up as you cup your cheek and look up at him, the tears in your eyes real. He pulls his hand back again as if to slap you and you flinch.

“Good girl, now finish taking off my outfit for me.” Mineta walks back a few steps and holds his arms out. Your fingers are clumsy as you take it of piece by piece.

Mineta abruptly grabs a fist full of your hair and yanks your head back. You grab his hand with both of yours trying to ease his grip.

“Do you think if you do it slow enough, I’ll get bored and go away?” He pulls harder. “Huh? You really think you’re gonna get out of this don’t you.” He tosses you towards the bed and you scramble to get back on your feet.

The tears in your eyes have started to spill over and you start babbling. “Please let me go Mineta, I don’t know what I did but please pleasejust forgive me kero. I won’t tell anyone about this just please don’t hurt me kero.”

He doesn’t answer you, just finishes taking off his outfit before he is walking towards you again, a vicious gleam in his beady eyes.

You back up until the back of your legs hits the bed. You open your mouth to speak but before you can utter a single word, he slaps you again.

“I told you not to speak unless I told you to once already. Now I’m gonna have to punish you, aren’t I?” He shoves you onto the bed and follows, using his knees to push your legs open he sits up and gives himself a few pumps.” No need to prep you, I want this to hurt.”

You are sobbing at this point, your hands covering your face when you feel him push into you. A scream rips out of your throat and you reach forward to push him away.

“You know Tsu, these meetups have been the best. I’m thinking next time I will find the REAL you and have even more fun.” He closes his eyes a leans his head back, fully immersed in only getting himself off.

To engrossed in his own world, he doesn’t realize that you have gone still. Your tears have stopped, and you have pulled your hands back from him.

DISGUSTING

“Find the real me?”

VILE

You break character, bringing your full consciousness back. You voice is just a whisper at first, so he doesn’t hear you, doesn’t stop thrusting.

FALSE HERO

“Find the REAL me?!” You are screaming at him now.

He finally stops, hearing you the second time. For a second you see fear in his eyes before they fill with rage.

MONSTER

“Hey! You better start doing the job I paid you for, I don’t come here for you to question me.” He lifts his hand up, as if to slap you again. Before his hand comes down you grab it, squeezing until he yelps in pain.

This job is over, he isn’t worth keeping around anymore.

“You think I give a shit about a little piss ant like you?!” As you sit up, he yanks his arm away and pulls out of you. Stumbling back, he starts shaking a finger in your direction.

“You can’t talk to me like that! You’re just a whore!”

You dart forward before he can put more distance between you and grab him by the neck. As you pick him up you snarl and let your quirk fade away.

“I may be a whore but I not a monster like you. You are just a fake hero, a plague on this world and I will get rid of every single one of you.” You throw him onto the ground still holding on to his neck and squeeze.

“In other news, Minoru Mineta also known as the pro hero Grape Juice has gone missing after several videos of him have gone viral. He was last seen leaving a brothel that has requested to remain nameless. The videos contain triggering scenes of the pro hero having relations with a prostitute while she is dressed in various hero suits the resemble his old female classmates. He even refers to them by name. The videos contain triggering images, and it is recommended to not seek them out. The original videos have since been taken down but are reuploaded onto the internet on several other sites. The prostitute shown in the videos has also gone missing. Any information on the whereabouts- “

The T.V. turns off, the voice of the news anchor no longer filling the dimly lit bar. The people present remain silent for a moment before a man with burns all over his body starts to laugh.

“You could have really fucked that up Doll. Good thing we got enough evidence.” You sneer at him, making sure you change your appearance to match your own desire. He flinches when he sees his own face.

“I wish you had cut him! There wasn’t enough blood to keep his appearance up for awfully long!” The young woman with two messy blond buns in her hair twirls a knife around.

“I’m terribly sorry Toga, but I didn’t have anything sharp with me.” You pick at your nails and look over at Kurogiri, who is busy pouring a glass of whiskey for Dabi. “Do I get a break after this one or do you and boss man have another gig for me?”

[elphiej]

Be My Light: Chapter 1 Shadows from Our Past

*Pairing: Yoonig X Reader

*Genre: Mafia, angst, eventual smut, slow burn

*Warnings: Language, violence, gun fight, mentions of abuse, mention for drugs. 

Author’s note: Hi everyone, here is chapter one. My editor and I had some conversations about the length; they wanted to shorten it and I wanted to leave it in tact for the sake of the flow. Let me know if the length is too long or not. Also, there are a bunch of easter eggs (bangtan lyrics, iconic outfits, ect. as we continue) let me know what you find. And, of course, thank you for reading and let me know what you liked. 

Tag list: @lalalalaloo-blog​, @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng​, @barbikatherine​, @mrsfortune1306​

The sun had just begun to fill the windows of the Lotus Apartment when you stepped out of your unit, coffee tumbler in one hand and bag slung over one shoulder , ready for a gruelingly long shift at Central Mercy Hospital. You let your eyes scan the corridor for any signs of life; no one else in their right mind would be up this early, yet anxiety had you checking the halls before you felt secure enough to fully exit your apartment. Taking out your keys, you pull your door shut and lock the two deadbolts that had become necessary in your mind.

And not just because of the active gang activity in this part of the city.

It had been close to three months since you had come to Central. And over four since you had left your miserable excuse of a ‘boyfriend’; The lying, abusive snake that was Daniel.  Just thinking about him made your stomach churn. Your time in Central, alone in your apartment, helped you reflect on your relationship and how toxic it had been. At first, it was nice. He had been your friend. He had been supportive and kind. Then, he was your roommate, taking care of you and being your security in uncertain times. Then, he became your boyfriend. It was nice and normal, something you thought you’d never have. He was protective, at least that’s how you saw it at the time. Looking back now, it was controlling and manipulative. He would say things that you thought were sweet, but now you understood they were horrible things. He said he wanted an obedient, good girl; he’d tower over you and make you feel so small. And for some reason, you believed him. You stayed like that for too long. After you had taken a job, trying to help support the two of you, his behavior got worse. He started to drink, and his abuse became more physical. Afterwards, he’d always say how sorry he was, how much he cared about you, or how he only drank because he was worried about you. Somehow it was always your fault. He wanted you to quit your job at a small medical clinic near his secluded home, but it was your only escape. To make it worse, you found out he had been sleeping with another woman. And still, you stayed with him, because he had fucked your head up so bad that you thought you needed him. The final straw that snapped some sense into you was when you confronted him about the other woman. He had come home from drinking with her and went crazy when you said you were leaving. He screamed, threw you around the apartment, hit you. Then he trapped you against a wall and started choking you. Had you not been able to grab hold of a bottle he had left on an end table and hit him just right, you may not have made it this far.                                

You left that night with just your backpack full of clothes and the few personal belongings that you had with you, your cellphone, and the money in Daniel’s wallet. And you ran all through the night. You didn’t have a plan or destination but you just had to get as far away from him as you could. A small voice under all the doubt and fear that he had piled on you, cheered and drove you to keep going.  You didn’t stop moving until you found a bus stop in the middle of nowhere. The driver had told you it was headed to Central, and something in that name seemed familiar to you. It drew you there like a siren’s call. Central was so large, it felt like it could have classified as a country. It was the perfect place to disappear. As the bus pulled into its terminal, that familiar feeling came back in as you gazed about the large buildings. But you chalked that up to remembering that you and your father moved around a lot.

It was one of the few memories you had like that.

Over the last few months, you had questioned why Daniel had changed so much. He had been the first face you remember seeing after the accident. And he had been the one to break the news to you. There had been a terrible accident, a horrendous car crash. You had been in the passenger seat when the car had broadsided by a drunk driver, sending the car rolling into a ditch. You had survived but your injuries were so severe that you had to be placed in a medical coma, and the trauma had affected your memory. When you woke up, you could remember very little of your past; You remembered that you had studied to be a nurse and recently graduated, that your father had been your only family, and that he had been a high ranking police officer. Daniel’s face was something that you sort of remembered as well, and you figured that was why you clung to him like an anchor. But everything else was wrapped in a dense fog, shattered like pieces of glass that couldn’t be put together. Daniel had, also, broken the news to you that your father hadn’t survived the accident. He stayed close to you for over a year, helping you through therapies, reminding you to take your anxiety medications, and wiping away the tears. He was perfect. But then, it changed. And any time you tried to talk to him about it, he would brush you off or say that he was stressed out, but that he loved you and just let him do what he needed.

What was funny was that in the months since leaving him, a piece of a memory had resurfaced. It was of your father and how he didn’t seem to like Daniel all that much. You could only think of what your father would have said when he saw what his daughter had become. You did remember how he had taught you to be strong and tough, to stand up against the bullies. He would be disappointed now. You rubbed your neck where he had choked you, smelling his alcohol pungent breath as he said so many nasty things to you.

But you got out and for that, anyone should be proud.

Shaking your head from the bad memories, you shoved your keys back into your bag and down the dimly lit hall towards the elevator. You felt a tad silly looking over your shoulder, thinking one day he was gonna show up at your door and drag you back to that unsafe mind set, but you had learned from the support group you had been to that it was normal. Thankfully, you were about to have a long shift to distract you from all those feelings. The intensive care unit had been short staffed, and with the increase in gang activity, everyone was working extra hard.  Central Mercy was the most active hospital in all of Central; the others were less willing to help gang members or those targeted for fear of retaliation. But once they came through the ER doors, it didn’t matter what they were. If they needed help, you would help. Even villains need help, and maybe your help can change them, your father’s voice had echoed from somewhere in the foggy parts of your mind. Also, Central Mercy was the main hospital dealing with the current outbreaks of drug overdoses due to a strange street drug known as U4-1A, a highly addictive and deadly substance that had been making its way through the city. Mercy was more equipped for trying to save the overdoses that kept popping up. You had only seen a few of those cases, but the doctors who had been on the front of those, had described it as a mix of “ecstasy, meth, and cocaine all rolled into one deadly substance”. You shook your head. You didn’t understand why people would do that to themselves. But, then again, who would stay with a person who abused you for so long? As you stepped into the small elevator, you really needed a distraction from all these bad thoughts and your best friend, Amber, should be on her way into work by now. You decided to try and text her.  

Bless that girl, she had been a big part in getting you back into a functioning human being. When you had stepped off the bus in Central, you were overwhelmed by everything. You were scared, tired, and had nowhere to go. You had felt so lonely. You ended up falling asleep on a bench just outside the station. That is where Amber had found you. She felt sorry for you and took you to get some food. Once she had heard your story, though, she brought you back to her loft to help you. She had said she was in your position once, but never explained what she had gone through, and wanted to help turn you around. She had got you into therapy, got you to open up, helped you find a job in her department at Mercy, and found the woman you were sure you had been on track to be before the accident had set you back.

You hit the lobby button on the elevator, then reached in your work bag for your phone as the door shut. You felt your umbrella, wallet, extra shirt, and even your lunch, but not the phone. You prayed that you didn’t leave your phone in the apartment in your sleep deprived haze. It wouldn’t be the first time this week that it had happened. Your anti-anxiety medicine had finally run out, even after you spaced them out over the last few weeks. And your mind had refused to shut off and you had been plagued by nightmares all night. Finally, your fingers had brushed against the plastic case of your phone. You let out a sigh of relief. However, when you pulled it out of your bag, you wished you hadn’t. It had been the phone that Daniel had given you, and the one that Amber had been trying to get you to throw away for months. You remembered having a panic attack when she had taken it from you. It had been one of the only things you could call yours. She had returned it to you after messing with the setting. Amber didn’t want to take any chances of him tracking the phone, not that you thought he could think of that, and told you not to respond to him. He had sent a few messages in the first few days; he said he was sorry and how much he loved you, but you did as Amber had asked. There was a small part of you that wanted to reach out, in secret. Thankfully, the logical part of your brain kept you silent. Amber wanted to block his number for good, but you left it as it was. She had given you a new phone not long after so you wouldn’t be tempted. And you hadn’t turned the old phone on since then. It had been stuffed in a bottom drawer, only reappearing now when you had rushed to grab an extra thick undershirt and stuffed it into the bag without realizing it.

The elevator came to a halt and opened to the empty lobby. You knew there wasn’t much time to decide what to do. You needed a phone- a curse of modern society to not be able to go a day without it. If you decided to go back up to retrieve your real phone, you still had to find it from where it had fallen in the chaos of this morning. And by then, you would miss your bus and be late to work. Technically, this was a working phone. You hit the power button; if it turned on, you would just get on with your day. That was your decision. It sprung to life, still with a good amount of power despite how long it had been in that drawer. The home screen had a picture of you and Daniel. It made you cringe at the sight of those smiling faces. But it worked and that would have to work. Amber may not be too happy to see it, but you’d rather deal with her then your supervisor. Plus, you really had no desire to talk or see Daniel.

Though, that small, needy part in the back of your mind was still wondering if he had still reached out to contact you.

You got your answer as you stepped out onto the chilly, lamp lit sidewalk. Your inbox was full of text messages and voicemails. He must have sent two or three a day since you had run away. You couldn’t bring yourself to hear his voice. But, as you head down the sidewalk to your bus stop, you decided to read through a few of them.

-Y/N, I’m sorry. Please call me.

-I know you’re mad. You have every right to. I’m weak and dumb.

-Please, just let me know you’re ok.

-Honey, I love you. I’ll never drink again.  I never meant to hurt you.

-Please let me know you see these.

-You mean so much to me. I’ll do better. I need you.

-Honey, that girl meant nothing. I can’t live with what I did to you.

-Please call me. Yell at me, hit me. Do anything you want, just come back.

His last message came only two days ago.

-Honey, you must be out of your medicine. Please, just let me give that to you. I won’t bother you anymore. We don’t need to get back together. Whatever you want to do, we can do it. Just let me bring it to you. You need it and I care about you. Please, Y/N, I’m sorry. Please, let’s just talk.

               Wow, you thought, he seems really upset. That small part surged forward again, pushing you to respond since he seemed so sincere. But you shook your head. Amber had brought you to a counseling center she volunteered at where a survivors of domestic violence group met. And based on what they had talked about, and his history, you knew it was best to move on. Though, you were basically out of medicine. You didn’t know the name of it, nor had the prescription for it. Daniel had always taken care of it. There was a doctor at Mercy whom you were close with, Henry Na, who had offered to investigate it for you. So, you had given him the last generic, round, white pill. He had offered to prescribe you a basic anxiety medication to help you while he did some research. He had been a big help, just like Amber to getting you to the state of normalcy you had achieved. Hopefully, he had found something for you. You would wait to see what he had to say before making that decision. Or you could talk to Amber and she would slam the stamp of “HELL NO” on that whole thought.

               Not wanting to continue this train of thought, you sent a quick text to your friend to say you were on your way to the bus, then locked your phone and stuck it in the pocket of your scrubs. You were determined to make the most out of this day. Even after a terrible night, you were going to be with your best friend, seeing some of your favorite patients, and being away from your troubles. You just needed to get to the bus stop and out of the chill of the early morning. You pulled your jacket close to your body and quickened your pace. Living at the far end of town, while cheap, had its disadvantages. There was much gang activity in the outskirts, the bus stops were sparse, and all the main shops were a long way away. At least, for the moment. Ahead, you could see the outline of the new shopping center the government had decided to build in hopes to revitalize this part of the city. And while you were excited that you wouldn’t have to go far to get essentials, you hoped it wouldn’t raise your rent anymore. Your bus stop was just beyond the construction. You hoped that today would prove to be just as exciting as the prospects of the new shopping center.

               Little did you know, in the dim light of the dawn, just how exciting your life was about to become.

~*****************~

               If the outside wasn’t foreboding enough, the inside made up for it. It was dark with only a few work lights scattered around the large, open space. There were tall, arching pillars and small openings along the sides that were meant for food stalls, and a large, empty fountain in the center of the concrete floor. Loose wires hung from the unfinished light fixtures, while high scaffoldings and boxed materials were randomly spaced about. A cold breeze swept through the open doorways, sending dust and debris swirling about Bangtan’s feet as they took echoing steps towards the elevator at the end of the floor. Above them, there were large cut outs in the floor so patrons would peer down at those below, all in interesting and modern designs. Once it was finished, it would be very fancy and high-end, the complete juxtaposition to the traditional and family owned buildings around it. It didn’t belong there.

               Just like we don’t belong here, Suga thought as his eyes wondered about the dim area. Jimin was beside him, the sparse lights glittering off the studded shoulders of his leather bomber jacket. His face was sharp and serious, his eyes constantly moving behind his rose-colored glasses. And Jungkook was trailing behind, dragging the poorly trained spy with him. The bound and blindfolded kid had fought against the maknae’s grip as soon as they entered the construction zone, screaming unintelligently against the gag. It took a good smack on the back of the head and a threat of “knock it off before I knock you out” before he stilled and allowed Jungkook to lead him around. He, even, made an annoyed promise that he would not let him stumble or fall until they turned him over to his team.

               V’s voice rang through the earpiece Suga wore, telling him where to go. The elevator would take them to the top floor, opening to a reception area. And beyond that was the event hall where Choi and his group of assholes were waiting for them. V didn’t see anyone on any other floors, which meant that their passage should be safe. Just as a normal drop should be. But Suga knew that it wasn’t going to be normal. With each step, the uneasy feeling grew. With the confirmation of the General’s presence, old feelings from the past made Suga even more on edge. But he hid it from his younger members. He figured this was a trap; he and RM had talked every conclusion out. They just needed to get in and out as fast as possible. V had set some helpful distractions up if they needed a quick getaway. But all Suga was focused on was dealing with Choi and keeping his dongsaengs safe. He took out his cell and texted a quick update to the leader.

               “This place is huge! I didn’t realize it when V and I came here before. Let’s make sure we come back when it’s finished. Something this fancy looking is bound to have a Gucci store,” Jimin said, trying to ease the mood a bit. He brushed a bit of dust from his white Gucci shirt to highlight his point.

               “I feel between the two of you, you have enough Gucci in your closets to open your own store,” Jungkook replied, though he had his own collection of name brands to rival theirs.

               Suga gave little response as they reached the elevator. RM had texted him back, saying what they already knew; Get in, get out, and be safe. The leader had added ‘try not to antagonize him too much, hyung’. Suga had a gift of speech, known to the others as his ‘Tongue Technology’. He could talk circles arounds even the most versed debaters, and knew exactly what to say to break someone down. If he had ever decided to pursue a career in music, all of Bangtan was sure he’d be a master at diss tracks. When Jin had captured the spy, Suga barely warmed up before the kid broke from fear. And while he knew he should do as his leader asked, Yoongi knew that if Choi opened his mouth, he’d find it extremely hard not to challenge him. As all four crowded into the elevator, he slipped his phone back into the pocket of his red coat and hit the top floor button. Jimin had started cracking his fingers and stretching out his limbs just in case he needed to be ready. Jungkook seemed to be bouncing on his heels with anticipation. A black face mask was resting under his chin. Suga reached over and pulled it up over the young maknae’s nose. He reached up, after, and fixed his black hat to hide most of his face. Jungkook was the only one of their members who Choi hadn’t seen face to face, making him the safest when he walked around barefaced. The boy had been quite young when he had joined them, and each meeting before the Generals had disappeared, Jungkook’s identity had been hidden. And Suga meant to keep it that way. Jungkook smiled at the action and nodded a ‘thanks’ to his hyung.

               “Just stay behind us until the trade is made. Block the door. And keep your face hidden. We don’t need Choi knowing who you are, got it?”

               Jungkook nodded again, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.

               The elevator came to a halt as it reached the seventh floor and the doors slid open. It opened to a finished reception hall with an ornate, marble desk at the end near the large, double doors. Compared to the rest of the building, this was practically finished. The floor had a mirror finish, there was a small chandelier above the desk, and the walls were painted with a dark contrast to the white marbled floors. As they stepped off the elevator, a strange crackle sounded through the piece in Suga’s ear. With each step, it got louder. He could see the small red light from the CC camera that V had placed under the edge of the desk. He knew V had been monitoring them, as well as the Royals, and he tapped the earpiece to signal V something was off. He could hear the young man under the roar of the static typing away at his keyboard, letting out a few curses. The roar got louder and louder the closer they got to the doors.

               “Hyung-…. Sug-…. Can you…” static “Wait they…. With them! Plea-…” static “Get-,” then a piercing noise overtook everything, and Suga ripped the earpiece from his ear. From what little he heard from V, and the tone he was using, whatever he was trying to say wasn’t good. Jimin and Jungkook looked at him, questioningly. It was clear that something wrong was just beyond those doors. But they were already too far to turn around. The Royals must have heard the elevator’s chime and their footsteps as they came up to the door. If they fled now, it would only be worse later. Suga gave a reassuring nod to his dongsaengs and turned towards the door. Jimin took his position beside him, a hand on his hip to give off the air of sass that his gang persona was known for. Jungkook pulled the spy close to him as he positioned himself behind them, eyes glowing with strength and determination.

               And then, Suga kicked the double doors wide open.

               The solid oak doors slammed against the inner walls of the large room with a big bang. Just as the lobby, it was practically finished, save for the large crates of fancy décor, some unfinished lights, some high work platforms, and a good polishing. The floor was the same marble and dark finished wall combination as the lobby, with large Roman pillars that gave the room a grand and expensive feel. There were high windows that lined one side of the room, showcasing a large section of downtown as it was bathed in the warm light of the dawn. Further into the space, two high metal scaffoldings had been constructed, high enough for someone to walk under and for painters to reach the vaulted ceiling in order to finish the commissioned watercolor piece; one was just beyond the double doors while the other was against the opposite wall at the far end of the room near the emergency exit. In the center of the room, surrounded by work lights, appeared to be a diamond shaped dance floor. There was a worktable there.

               And sitting at the table was Choi. He stood out against the sea of black suited goons with his silver fur coat. Choi always had an air of intensity about him, especially when he caught you in a stare down. He was like a cobra; smooth, unpredictable, and ready to strike without warning. When Suga had first met the General, he had overseen the breaking in of the new “recruits”. And the look he gave was enough to warn the kids to beware his wrath. Choi leaned forward on his elbows; his tented, gloved fingers pressed against his lips. His crazed eyes tracked Bangtan as they sauntered into the room, stopping just before the first scaffolding so to keep some distance between the two rivals. The one holding his spy stopped behind the other two. He tsked in disappointment.

               “Nice of you boys to show up,” he greeted in his deep, gravel voice. “I appreciate that you agreed to come to our location. Times have been tough for my troops, and this makes them feel more at ease.”

               “Safe it, Choi,” Suga said, his tone even but methodical, “I don’t need you to put on this little act of yours. You’re not doing this for your guys. At least own up to the fact that you don’t want to follow the Accords.”

               Choi made an amused noise. “Ah, Agust, I have missed that lip of yours.”

               Out of the corner of Jimin’s eyes, he watched as Suga slid into Agust, a second persona Yoongi had developed in the early years before Bangtan. Suga was cold and intimidating, methodical and quiet. Agust was the opposite. He was more aggressive, ready to set the world ablaze; where Suga was the bulletproof vest, Agust was the machine gun and ready to pop off at whoever provoked him. While Suga liked to take his time, his second persona didn’t want to. The shift was subtle, but Jimin had seen the wicked smile appear across his lips as he cocked his head to the side, spilling his platinum blond hair across his eyes. Agust seemed to vibrate with mischievous energy. Jimin hadn’t seen this side of his hyung in an exceptionally long time; only people from Bangtan’s past knew of Agust or he hadn’t been pushed that far to bring out the wildcard. However, he knew Choi had a way of bringing the worst out in them. This would be interesting.

               “Oh, I missed you too, Choi. But don’t worry, my aim is much better now. Can we just do this shit? I have better things to do and you are not one of them.”

               The amused look on Choi’s face slipped. “Such disrespect for your sunbaenim. This is why I requested your leader. He seems to have taken my lessons better than you.”

               “Sorry,” Agust pouted, bringing up his hands in a mocked apology, “but my leader has better things to do than play with a flea infested bitch like you. Wait, that was an insult to dogs.”

               Jungkook was happy he had a mask on to hide his grin; he always enjoyed when Yoongi-hyung fell into Agust; it didn’t happen much these days unless he was extremely angry or overly stressed. So, this was a treat to see Agust tearing into Choi like he knew his hyung had always wanted to do when he was younger.

               Agust continued, his eyes glowing with annoyance. “Seriously, can we move this along? We have your little spy here, all safe and sound. We even fed him, which is more than you could do. Let’s do this exchange before I get more annoyed. It’s past my Maknae’s bedtime and he’s gonna be cranky later.”

               Jimin couldn’t hold back his laugh at that point. That drew Choi’s attention. A gleam appeared in Choi’s eyes that, even from that distance, Jimin didn’t like.

               “Now I wasn’t expecting to see you, Sweet One. It’s been a while since we last met. How have you been doing? Had your fix recently?”

               Jimin only glared behind his glasses, his hands clenched in a fist. He took a deep breath and tried to block him out.

               Choi stood up and moved to the front of the table. “What, nothing to say? I missed that voice of yours. So sweet and addictive. You know, sometimes I can still hear your sweet moans and gasps echoing through my memories. Begging and pleading, so needy and desperate. Makes me wish I had taken a chance with you when I had the opportunity. I can see you’re shaking from here. I have what you need, baby. I can help you feel all better. You just need to come over and ask for it. I can take good care of that itch of yours. I’d love to hear how loud your moans can get now.”

               Jimin felt something in him snap. He went to rush him, fist cocked back, ready to shut the bastard up. Suga threw out an arm in front of him before he could take a step. The look he gave Jimin told him to let him handle Choi. RM had asked Suga not to cause too much trouble. And since Agust had already made an appearance, he couldn’t risk Jimin starting something. Even if Choi deserved whatever Jimin had planned to do for bringing up such a dark part of their past. Suga’s reassuring hand gave Jimin a slight push behind him, which the younger man begrudgingly allowed.

               “Seems like you’ve become the responsible one, Agust. Perhaps you’ve gone soft on me, despite the bite. Fine, we should get down to business. But first thing is first; lets make sure that you followed the rules I sent to your leader. No weapons were to be brought with you. Chen, Yao,” he called over his shoulder, “search them.”

               The two suits stepped away from the pack and crossed over to Bangtan. Suga nodded to Jimin, who made his way to stand next to Jungkook in order to keep the spy between them as they were searched. The guards started with Jungkook, then Jimin. They searched Suga last. Both guards ran their hands through clothes, dipping into each pocket. So, of course, they found the small pocketknife Yoongi had slipped into the inner pocket of his red coat. Chen fixed the smaller male with a look, which was received with a nonchalant shrug. Chen was not amused by the gesture and grabbed him by his blond hair, yanking his head back. Agust grabbed hold of Chen’s wrist, twisting it as hard as he could before spitting in the thug’s face. Yao rose his fist to punch him, only to be stopped by Jimin, who had appeared next to him. Agust was intimidating on his own, but the look that Jimin transfixed on them was enough to send a message. Both suits backed away from the two before things got any worse.

               “Agust,” Choi remarked as his guards returned to their space, “how disappointing. Do you see, boys? They have no respect for us. They bring a weapon to a tradeoff. And when scolded for breaking the rules, he acts like a wild animal. They don’t even have the decency to dress professionally. Instead of business attire, we are presented with ripped jeans, flashy and cheap clothes-,”

               “Hey, I wore designer labels to this,” Jimin interrupted.

               “And the one in the back,” Choi continued, “look at how they teach their Maknae. Black cargo pants, hoodie, and wearing a mask and hat. Like he’s going to a club instead of meeting with his betters. Take that off and let me get a better look at you, boy! The least you can do is give me a proper greeting.”

               “Leave my Maknae alone.” Agust took a few steps forward, stepping into the primary focus. “He’s protecting himself from all the bullshit you keep spitting. You don’t need to see him for us to do this. Stop stalling. Where’s your goods? We took good care of your little rat. Now put up or shut up.”

               “You keep demonstrating how low you can be, Agust. Do you think you’ll become as successful as us acting like a classless thug?”

               Agust shrugged, tapping his long finger against his cheek. “I’m not sure about the secret to success. But I think I know the secret to failure and being an idiot. And that is to keep babbling like you. I’m really starting to lose my patients with you. Show me the fucking trade, else I’m leaving with your spy and I’ll do whatever I want to with him.”

               Choi nodded to one of his suits. They pulled out a suitcase and opened it. It was full of cash and ammunition boxes. “Satisfied with that, Agust? It’s way more than his life is worth. But recruitment has been slow recently. However, before we trade, I need an apology.”  

               “For what, your appearance? You need to take that up with your parents,” Agust sneered, causing Jimin and Jungkook to start chuckle.

               Choi slammed the case shut. “I’m over your bad attitude! You have disrespected me enough today. You show me respect, or I will demonstrate how I used to deal with you.” Choi reached around and brandished his ornate cane, smacking it against his hand. “You remember what I used to do to you. Now, apologize to me!”

               “Alright, I’m sorry. Don’t get angry. Your mom will be upset if you lose your only asset- your health,” Agust mocked with a small bow, causing Jimin and Jungkook to laugh. The shocked expression from some of the suits added fuel to the fire.

               Choi’s face took on a red shade. “Enough,” he screamed, his voice shattering against the empty walls, “You may appear brave and bold, but I know what you hide behind that smile, son!”

               Agust took another step forward, unafraid by his little outburst. “If I’m the sun,” he said, pointing out the windows at the rising light, “then you are the moon; as I rise, you go down. Though, I’m sure I’m going to be more disappointed in your tongue technology than your cohorts are with mine.” The roar of laughter from behind him only increased and sent Choi further into a rage. He lunged at Agust and swung his cane.

               Suga’s hands were almost as fast as his tongue; he grabbed hold of the cane before it could strike him. He pulled his face close to the General’s, his eyes cold and serious.

               “I am not that scared little boy you locked in the dark. I will show you that I’m the king here. I’m the boss. And you will end up just like your vile, worthless Maknae.”

               “You’ve gotten strong in my absence,” the taller man remarked as he tried to pull away from Suga’s grip. The younger held tight for a second before giving him a hard shove back towards his team. Choi took a grounding breath and ran a gloved hand through his frosted hair. “Remember Agust, our Maknae acted on his own. Against his boss’s plan. And you got your revenge on him for that. He damned himself, not his hyungs.  Don’t keep using that to fuel your hate.”

               “I have plenty without that.” Suga turned and walked back to his team. “I’m done playing with you. Slide that case over here. We’ll leave your man here as we exit out the door. And we will call this done.”

               Choi shot a dark glare at the blond’s back, before waving a dismissive hand at him, accepting that he wasn’t going to get anything he wanted from the younger man. He gave a nod to the suit holding the case, who slid the case across the floor. Jimin stopped it with his foot before picking it up. He thought it felt lighter than he expected it to, but the want to leave outweighed his curiosity; he was still pissed about what Choi had said to him. He turned his back to the room and made after Yoongi.

               Suddenly, Choi’s soft laughter filled the room. Yoongi remembered that laughter; the General had used it when he knew something they did not. Bangtan’s Second in command looked over his shoulder to see that Choi had a small remote in his hand. With a press, the double doors swung shut automatically. Panic rose within Bangtan. They were trapped! Jimin opened the case in his hands and discovered it was full of fake bills and empty ammunition boxes. Everything was a set up. Choi must have figured that they would have a surveillance too, and made it so he couldn’t communicate with V once they got to the meeting spot. Yoongi hoped that he hadn’t thought about a camera hidden within the room. Since V had been trying to tell him something before their communication was severed, he must have eyes in the room, at least enough to know he needed to get to them fast. Jungkook tightened his hold upon the spy, as if it was their only protection. He shot Suga a look. The elder shifted his eyes between both of his comrades, deep, stormy eyes narrowed in defensive thought. He had thought of this; he had many plans unraveling in his mind. Now, it was all a matter of finding the best one in order to get them out of there. The only unknown factor was Choi. Suga motioned for the two to keep calm as he turned back to the General.

               “Honestly, Agust, did you really believe it would be that simple? That I would let you come in, disrespect me and my troops, and walk out of here like you’re the one in charge? After all that you and your little boy scout brigade has done. I was hoping to send a little message when I scratched up that smiling fool of yours. And yet, your leader couldn’t grasp that and sent you right into my hands. It should had been obvious that you weren’t going to get out without a struggle. There is no Hallowed ground here. You are in my territory with a member of mine that, for what anyone would see, you have kidnapped. Therefore, I can have my fun without any fear from the Accords and their rules.”

               Jimin growled, “Since when do you care about the Accords? You already drew us here under false pretenses.”

               “They’re not entirely false. As I said, you have my recruit,” Choi remarked, his voice in a mocked tone of concern. “He was given such an easy task. And he couldn’t even do that correctly. It would see that some more training is in order.”

               Jungkook felt the kid in his grasp cringe and bury himself deeper into his hold. It was painfully clear that the kid had no choice in this life, much like most of members in the room. And from the stories he had heard from his hyungs, Jungkook was sure this kid had been treated much better in their care than anything in the Royals clutches. It wasn’t up to the Maknae, but he wondered if it was too late to try and take the kid with them.

               “As you know,” Choi continued, “recruitment has been difficult on me. And all the rookies have little to no talent when it comes to the finer arts of the trade. They would benefit from some more one on one training. How do you think we can achieve this?”

               “Well, when Ji just up and leaves like the coward he is and leaves his most useless General in charge, seems like a daunting task for you. Might as well just give up and disband,” Suga said in his methodical tone, causing Choi and the Suits to actively flinch at the mention of their leader’s real name said so offhandedly.

               “Don’t you dare say his name! I will make you regret that. And you’ll be the example for my new recruits. Like I said, my boys don’t do well with their basic training back at the compound. They need some ‘on the job’ training, some action in the field. And what better place then here. Since we are not on Hallowed Ground, we can let them play a little rough. What a splendid opportunity for all of us; they get to have a real experience and you get a few broken bones to send a message to anyone who thinks that they are above the Royals in the food chain. Do me a favor, Bangtan, and don’t give up to fast.”

               With that last smirk, Choi settled himself back against the table and snapped his fingers. Four of the Suits smirked and started to cross the room towards Bangtan. Jimin looked over at Suga. The steely member gave a sharp nod and Jimin pushed some of his honey locks out of his hair with a dark glint in his eyes. He heard Suga tell the youngest to ‘stay put’ as he set off at the advancing Suits. Out of Bangtan, Jimin was known as one of their best fighters. He had studied many different styles and always perfected his craft; from judo and taekwondo to kendo and target shooting, he was regarded amongst most gangs in Central as the most skilled. Jimin was, also, a well-versed dancer, having studied since he was a child. And that control and flexibility of his body only aided him when he decided to show off just why he was well known. As he was still seething with anger from Choi’s words, he decided to take out that frustration on whoever came near him. Jimin took off like a bullet and launched himself up to grab a high bar on the bottom side of the scaffolding. Using his momentum, he swung himself up towards the closest Suit, catching the young man off guard as Jimin wrapped his toned legs around the taller man’s neck. Before the Suit could recover from the surprise, Jimin let go of the bar and arched back into a backbend. Using his lower body strength, he pulled the victim over and down the ground with a loud thud. The shock knocked the air from the Suit and Jimin sent a sharp punch to the throat, to keep him down.

               A yell from another Suit brought Jimin’s eyes up. He got up and tackled the second. The new opponent was sturdier on his feet than the first, easily keeping himself upright and throwing Jimin back. Jimin recovered quickly; he ran to one of the supportive, vertical legs of the scaffolding, grasping hold and using it to spin himself back to the Suit, his heels colliding with the goon’s chest. The Suit stumbled back, chest heaving. Jimin didn’t give him much chance to recover; he was instantly back in his range, throwing punches and sweeping kicks towards the taller man. Being as flexible as he was, Jimin had no issues dodging and sliding under the Suit’s attempt at a comeback. While the bastard was strong and aggressive, he lacked speed and foresight. And Jimin had much of that. They had been backed further along the scaffolding towards it’s beginning, moving rhythmically around the bars and legs. The Suit had managed to grab Jimin by the collar of his studded jacket as he tried to get behind him and threw him face first into the ladder that lead to the top of the scaffolding. He clung to bar for a moment, feeling his lip start to bleed and his head ringing from the sudden impact. He could hear the asshole let out a laugh before charging at him. Just as the Suit was able to connect his jab to the back of Jimin’s head, the smaller blond side stepped him, and let the Suit’s hand make a cracking impact with the metal bars. Jimin got behind him and wrapped his arm around the man’s neck, squeezing as hard as he could. The other man thrashed against his grip, but his windpipe was being crushed. The Suit slipped onto his knees as his vision started to dot. And Jimin took the opportunity to release the Suit’s throat and use his knee to hit him in the nose. Blood spattered over the dark denim as the Suit screamed in pain. He was silenced when Jimin elbowed him in the back of the head. After the man fell unconscious, Jimin ran his hands through his hair and adjusted the rose-colored glasses that had managed to stay on his face.    

               While Suga wasn’t as graceful as Jimin when it came to fighting, he was able to hold his own with the rest of them. He was scrappier, more calculative in his actions. The remaining two Suits had come at him at the same time. And just like Jimin, he used his height to his advantage, easily dodging under the sweeping arms of the two. The closest Suit had backed Suga up against one of the Roman pillars with his advancing punches, his back flushed against the cold stone. The bastard set an upper cut, which Suga caught and turned back upon its owner. He looked over the goon’s shoulder to see the second had a picked up a crowbar. Oh, fantastic.  The second Suit raised the bar and brought it down in a hard motion, only to hit his own comrade when Suga grabbed the first one and used him as a shield. The goon swung again and Yoongi moved behind the pillar just as it made contact, sending dust flying into the air. When he came back around, he caught hold of the bar with both hands and struggled to push back against the brute’s strength. The first one had recovered from the hit and caught him from behind, locking his arms around the thin gang member’s body. Suga threw his head back and knocked against the Suit but his grip only tightened. He struggled hard as the second guy advanced on him again. Thinking fast, he brought his legs up and kicked the second Suit hard in the chest, sending him to the ground. He thrashed harder against the taller man behind him. He was swung around until Suga saw the white pillar in front of him. He ran up high enough on the pillar and kicked back with all his strength, sending him and the Suit to the marble floor. The arms around his chest loosened enough to slip one out of the hold and use a reverse elbow strike to the goon’s face, hard enough to send him to the very edge of consciousness. Suga scrambled up to his feet as the second Suit barreled at him; he moved just enough to grab ahold of the Suit’s jacket and propel him into the pillar. Suga grabbed hold of the Suit’s shaved head and slammed it as hard as he could into the pillar as many times as it took until the guy slumped down, blood decorating the white stone. Taking a deep breath, he turned back towards the General, smirked before giving the Suit at his feet a good kick to the stomach.

               “That all you got, you son of a bitch?” Agust was out of breath, but still had enough snark in his voice to fill the room. “You couldn’t teach them how to fight their way out of a paper bag. I didn’t even need to bring out my tank over there,” he pointed at Jungkook, who smiled behind his mask and gave a little wave. “What were they supposed to do again? Teach me a lesson? Make me into the example to what happens when your fragile self-worth is questioned. If that’s how you teach your boys to fight, you should change your profession because your ability to make yourself look like an idiot is extraordinary. Your title should be ‘Moron Extraordinaire’ instead of ‘Washed-up Mafia Kingpin’. What you want to throw at me, now? Clearly, we can take you. And when I get out of here, you can guarantee that it’s going to be open season on you. I don’t care if your punk ass leader decides to show his fucking face. I’ll gladly spit in it and let him know how this little ‘bapsae’ took his place.”

               Choi looked down at the Suits, most of whom were still unconscious at Bangtan’s feet. His eyes flicked up to meet Suga’s cold stare. He gave a deep sigh and shrugged the fur coat from his shoulders.

               “Oh Agust, I really do wish one of my men had the foresight to break your jaw. That way I wouldn’t have to hear you anymore. I’m growing tired of this game. I would have hoped you would’ve gone down easier. It would have boosted the moral of the boys instead of their medical bill. Guess we are going to have to do this the old fashion way.”

               Choi reached behind his suit jacket and brandished a chrome revolver. Behind him, the rest of his guys pulled out theirs and pointed them at Bangtan. Jungkook’s doe eyes seemed to get bigger as he took in the site before him. Jimin looked concerned as well, but tried to keep it internalized so not to feed their egos; his eyes were darting across the room, looking for places to shield himself should shoots be fired. Suga refused to break eye contact with Choi. The older General gave at laugh at the fronted courage. He cocked the gun and raised it eye level.

               “I have wanted to do this for a long time. When I was away, I had dreams of shooting you right between those cold eyes and wiping that fucking smile off that face. I remember when my brothers and I brought you under our wing; we had high hopes for you if we could break you. But you are just as stubborn as the rest of your ragtag crew. I hope your efforts were worth it in your mind.”

               Choi’s finger moved towards the trigger. And Suga didn’t move, just stared him down. Before Choi could pull it, a loud gun shot rang out in the space! And a bullet hit Choi’s weapon and sent it ricocheting across the marble floor. Choi spun around, looking for the source of the shot. Suga let out a breath he didn’t realize he had held. Jimin rushed to his side, eyes searching for an explanation, as if Yoongi had some how done something. But the second-in-command was just as shocked; his eyes darted about the room, just as the Royals were making a commotion looking for the phantom gun.

               A deep chuckle filled the space, bouncing off the shadowed walls that made it seem like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. “Stop going on about ‘effort’ and more ‘effort’,” the deep voice commanded. “It’s makes my skin crawl when you say things like that.”

               Drawn by the voice, Suga finally caught a glimpse of a black leather jacket and red pants perched atop the second scaffolding behind the Royals on the opposite wall. V was squatted on top of the platforms, gazing down upon the scene like a gargoyle, one elbow resting against his knee. The other arm was stretched out with his emerald green gun held tight in his grasp. Suga was half impressed that V had hit his intended target; the other half was annoyed he had taken that chance.

               “About time you decided to show your face,” Suga remarked. “What, did you take the scenic route?”

               “Sorry Suga-hyung,” V responded, his voice like black velvet. “They scrambled my signal so I couldn’t contact you. Not even on your phone. And, of course, I had the guys at the cars to deal with. By the way,” he moved his steely eyes to Choi, “your henchmen weren’t a fan of my ‘Vante’ mark on your tacky car. So I left them giftwrapped in the trunk. They didn’t play nice so they’re a bit bruised. Hope that’s ok.”

               V brought his hand up to flash his signature ‘V’ sign and winked at Choi. The General just stared back at him, his gaze disbelieving and furious. Then, he turned to his Suits.

               “Unbelievable,” he said, the hand V had shot the gun out of balling into a shaky fist, “the empire I helped create is being spit upon. And its members are just letting this bunch of misfits walk all over them. This isn’t even all of them! You are supposed to be the most feared, strong, aggressive men of the Mafia families. But you let a pretty boy, a shadow, a whore, and a foul-mouthed baepsae fuck you over time and time again?! I should just shoot you all myself for being so useless! Do you know what’s going to happen if you continue to let the Royal’s name drag in the filth of these fuckers?! I will make sure every single one of you begs for death before I’m finished! Is that what you want? Or are you going to do something about it?!”

               “Whoa, watch that temper, Big Boss,” V said, while smacking on a piece of gum. “Your face is turning a bright shade of red. It’s clashing with your suit. Not a good look for someone of your age.”

               Choi had had enough; he gave a sharp order to Chen who whipped out his revolver from a hidden hoister. He raised it at rapid speed and took aim at V. But while Chen was fast, someone was faster. A loud shot sounded from behind them, and the bullet cut across the captain’s arm. His arm spasmed at the contact and dropped his gun before he could even move to the trigger. Choi whirled around, eyes wild and enraged. Behind Suga and Jimin, both of whom were wearing a smug smile, was the shadow who Choi had dismissed, still holding their hostage in front of him. Jungkook had his arm balanced against the hostage’s shoulder, with his metallic purple handgun on full display. Even with his face hidden behind a mask, all could tell he had a triumphant grin spread across his lips.

               Choi grabbed his captain by the arms, uncaring of the bleeding wound his hands covered. “I told you to search them for weapons! Can you not do one thing I ask?!

               “I did, Boss! I swear,” Chen cried as Choi fingers dug further into his gunshot wound.

               It was Suga’s turn to let out a bemused noise, letting his head loll to one side. His hands came to rest on his hips, and he clicked his tongue in a disappointed fashion. “Oh Choi, you think you’re the smartest person in the room. You think you’re the only one with secrets. See, we’re not as naïve as you like to believe. We have the genius leader after all. We planned for every eventuality you could think of. You’re not as slick as you boost yourself up to be. But we played our part well to make you believe that, didn’t we? Since your boys lack the brains to think of creative methods beyond your orders, I’ll let you in on my little secret. Your boys did search us – they didn’t check your little rat.”

               As quick as he brandished his own piece, Jungkook pulled Jimin’s and Suga’s weapon from under the rat’s oversized sweatshirt and tossed it to them. Jimin’s was a polished gold, while Suga’s was a studded black gun. Both caught their respective piece as if they had rehearsed the moment. Now, they had four barrels pointed at the Royals. Bangtan was outgunned, but they were widely known for their accuracy and body count. That reputation alone was enough to worry the newer Suits. Suga’s cold stare drilled into the General as he held is gun steady.

               “Even after all your shit, Choi, I’ll let you decide how we do this; either let us walk out like nothing happened or we start shooting. You’re already down a few men,” Suga said, motioning to the four men still on the ground from their earlier rumble, either still unconscious or too scared to sit up. “Do you really want to risk losing more? After all this, I can’t guarantee that we won’t hit anything vital like with Chen there. So what’s it gonna be, Jackass?”

               Choi stared at the younger man; his face was blank and unreadable. Suga wondered if he was going to have to repeat himself, or if they could use that silence to back away before anything happened. But then, a crazed look appeared in the General’s eyes and a wicked smirk cracked his face. He gave a shrug of his broad shoulders before taking a step back behind his Suits.

               Then, he snapped his fingers.

               The Royals opened fire with an onslaught of bullets. Bangtan scattered behind whatever cover was closest. Jungkook pulled his hostage behind a large crate and shoved him to the ground, ordering the kid to  ‘stay down and don’t move if you want to live to see adulthood’; he had protected the kid so far, he wasn’t gonna let him get shot for a stupid reason. The poor kid was too scared to do anything but shake and do as he was ordered. Jungkook leaned around the box and fired a few shots to try and cover for V. The gray-haired boy was running across the scaffolding, yelling out ‘one shot- two shots’ as he fired down into the Suits. He vaulted from edge of the platform and scampered behind one of the pillars where Jimin had shielded himself with. The smaller Bangtan member was an impressive shot and was managing to keep the Suits from advancing upon him. Suga was across from them, behind another pillar. From his position, it was difficult to get a clear shot at anyone and he was pinned down behind it. There was a crate a few feet from him that would give him a better vantage point to lay out the Royals. It would be a bonus if he would break down the human shield Choi had surrounded himself with, and stain that blue suit of his. Running away from the pillar into the sea of smoke and ammunition, he rapid-fired at the Suits, hearing at least one of the Suits call that he had been hit. Jimin and V were moving to a new cover, alternating cover shots over each other’s shoulders. Suga knew they needed to get out of there; no matter how good of a shot they were, they would run of bullets before the Royals would. He needed a plan, and fast. He looked behind him at the door Choi had rigged; there was a red light from the mechanical device that had shot and locked the door. The lobby had some decorative things that they could use to bar the door once he could destroy the mechanism. There were the emergency stairs just behind the Royals that they could use if they could keep their distance. Or both to split up the group.

               Behind him, Jungkook had slid a new round of ammunition into his gun that V had slid to him. He had moved from the very back of the room closer to the rest of his team. One of the Suits came running at him from along the side of the room. He easily showed him why they referred to him as Bangtan’s tank; he blocked the Suit’s punch before pistol whipping him, sending two strong jabs at his gut, and a final uppercut that sent the suit falling backward and his gun flying from his hand. Jungkook easily caught it in his empty hand and sent double the shots at the rest of the Royals. He ducked behind another set of boxes and looked to Suga.

               Three more Suits had been hit and were scrambling for cover. Those still shooting had changed weapons and released a new spray of bullets that pinned Bangtan where they were. Choi stood in the middle of it, almost as if he were a statue, with a confident grin still on his lips. He gave an order for the Suits to advance. Suga knew they needed to get out now. He rose up and fired, hitting two Suits and bringing them down. He gave a signal to Jungkook to come to him. The Maknae rushed over, both guns firing and keeping the Royals ducking for cover. Suga looked over his shoulder at the other two and called out. He gave a pointed look to the door and V followed his gaze. They had all worked together long enough to not need much to understand what the other needed to say. V looked back and nodded, knowing Suga meant for them to leave that way on his signal. Jungkook laid down some cover as the blond turned from the battle and fired four shots at the mechanism, destroying it. He turned back to see Choi look stunned at his actions, before ordering his men on.

               Suga grabbed Jungkook and leaned close. “Get to the back stairs. I’ll cover you and be right behind you.” He looked behind and called out to Jimin and V, “Get to the car! If we’re not there, just drive. We’ll meet up at the safe zone!”

               V and Jimin nodded and took off towards the double doors, Jimin kicking them wide open before V turned and slammed them shut behind them. Choi yelled out for a few men to follow them. Three of the men who had lost in their hand-to-hand battle with Bangtan, jumped up from their positions on the floor and ran towards the closed doors. They pushed against it but it was wedged closed. The blond smiled, knowing V had thought of the same things he had about securing the door to help give them time to get away. It held just long enough for the two to escape the lobby. Suga gave Jungkook a shove and the young man took off around the outskirts of the room towards the emergency door in the back of the room. Shots continued to whiz by him as he ducked and weaved between pillars and boxes, having a few close calls as he neared the back end of the room. Suga trailed behind him, pausing at each cover to fire back at the Royals. He managed to bring down two more of the Royals before he ran out of bullets. Jungkook finished the clip in the stolen gun and threw it, hard, at an advancing Suit, nailing him in the side of the head. Chen, still bleeding from his arm but determined to win favor from Choi again, had seen where Jungkook and Suga were heading and stood in front of the door. Jungkook ran at the captain and got locked in a hand-to-hand fight. Chen was one of the few present to offer a challenge to the Maknae, even injured. Chen grabbed one of Jungkook’s fists, as he went in for a cross jab, and twisted the young man’s arm behind him. Jungkook twisted, trying to get his arm free, but Chen held tight. So, he shoved them both backwards until the captain’s back slammed against the wall, throwing his head back to crack against the taller man. Chen let go, and the two were back to exchanging punches, jabs, and dodges.

               Suga was almost to Jungkook when, from the corner of his eyes, he saw Choi moving towards one of his new recruits, one who was a terrible shot. The General snatched his gun from the Suit’s hand and rose it. And it was aimed at Jungkook in a fatal angle. The Maknae was trapped with Chen and couldn’t see what Choi had planned. Suga cursed and ran. Everything happened too fast.

               Jungkook had landed a sharp punch to Chen’s face, causing the captain to stumble back stunned.

               Choi fired the weapon with a clear target.

               Jungkook noticed Choi, as Suga shoved him out of the way.

[katsukikitten]

Wholesome Frat AU, Clearly aged up, college au, main characters are Bakugou, Kirishima, Denki, Sero, Jiro, Mina, and of course you my dear reader. Sexual themes, mentions of drugs and booze through out.

AHEM

Chapter 1

Denki lies upside down off his bed, staring at his phone when another invite to a party comes through. It's from a classmate he shares notes with and one of the few non toxic dudes on campus. A smile forms on his face, his fingers ready to fly across the screen to confirm his Friday night to be golden and one to remember. 

Or maybe wish to remember as alcohol and maybe some weed numb his senses. 

But then the location comes through, a frat house that's notorious for ignorance and low key rape culture. He turns it down claiming to study and sighs. Staring at his shared four walls from the top bunk. 

"What's going on with you? No one wants you to keep their bed warm tonight?" Sero teases passing him up a beer before starting the next round of his game. Preferring to get buzzed and troll in Apex lobbies than find somewhere to be tonight.  

Their phones buzz at the same time, Kirishima coming through on the group chat. 

Big Red 🦈 : Any plans tonight boys?

Boomboi 💣 : Fuck off, busy. 

Tape dispenser 🎞 : Apex

Zaptos ⚡: got invited to a party but location is sus af. You bro? 

Big Red 🦈 : Yikes 😬 Keepin some ladies safe. Don't like the scene here…

Tape dispenser 🎞 : Same

Zaptos ⚡: Same

Boomboi 💣:  FUCK OFF!

Denki and Sero both smirk at their phones before moving on with their Friday night with small talk of Instagram stories and received risque snapchats. As the beer fridge gets dwindles  their thoughts seem to grow. 

"Okay, listen. Here me out!" Denki says as if Sero would ever come off defensive. He finishes his eighth beer before continuing. 

"What if we started our own frat? Like...like a fucking wholesome one." 

"Dude not only does that sound impossible but what would we call ourselves?" Sero chuckles nursing his seventh beer. Denki pauses for a moment, trying to think of something, anything great. 

"Alpha Kappa Wholesome." He smiles, "Yea that's it!"

Sero laughs from his bottom bunk earning an angry faced Denki to put half of his body over the side of his bed. 

"I'm serious man! We could kick out whoever doesn't match our values. This college is supposed to be about making 'lasting connections' with fellow heroes! How are we supposed to do it when we are cooped up in our tiny dorm!" He gestures to their cramped room. A set of bunk beds and desks with their TV and shared dresser on the far wall. Sero looks around, this sure as hell wasn't like the dorms at UA that's for sure. 

"Okay well two people isn't enough for a frat, man." Sero lets the dream die before it can bloom, running a hand through his raven hair. Denki scrunches up his face before he remembers where his crush stays.  It's as if a light bulb lit up atop his upside down head. He jolts himself falling from the top bunk crashing into the empty beer bottle. They clink in protest but thankfully non break, just roll beneath the bottom bunk. 

"But there is a sorority of only four and we have four friends in our group!" 

Denki decides now is a good time to face time them. Kirishima answers first with a shout that he's gonna step outside, the roaring party and flashing lights die behind the shutting door while Bakugou is illuminated by the light of his screen glaring into the camera while a meek looking girl hides. 

"This better be fucking good." Bakugou growls. 

After an hour and a half of screaming Denki finally convinces Bakugou that sharing a house with the three of them as opposed to a rando was a much better idea. Reminding him that he had done it for three years in highschool surely he could last two more. He agrees but refuses to help argue with the dean meanwhile Kirishima is GLOWING with excitement over the idea formulating with his sober mind the best way to handle the notorious harsh Dean. 

It takes petitions, several meetings and almost til the spring break to come down to this, the final meeting. Bakugou, who has attended every meeting and true to his word has said nothing. Denki nervous as a sinner in church, Sero who's sweating bullets and Kirishima all sit in the room with the board, treasury and the Dean in a final meeting of sorts. 

Kirishima gulps and before he can explain the benefits the frat will have to offer the Dean stops him with a simple show of his hand. Taking a report from the secretary of treasury to look over, he just needed the monetary excuse to back up his favorite word. 

"No." He clears his throat, "Unfortunately funds are too low to be able to support another fraternity." The Dean leaves it at that not even bothering to offer they join something preexisting. 

Three of the four men accept defeat, mentally communicating that they did a good job trying. But the fourth man dreamed of his own room, of his own space to do as he pleased. And all without threat of being charged with murder. Although the fourth man would never admit that the reason he spoke up wasn't totally about the room, it was the look of defeat, anguish on his friends faces that had the room heating up a degree or two and smelling heavily of boiling sugar. 

"Oi, toupee." The hot head let's his seat fall back to all fours, fixing the Dean a withering look, "You said something about not enough money huh?" 

The Dean swallows thickly carefully thinking out his next sentence. 

"Why, Yes its…." Bakugou interrupts before the Dean can even finish his thought. 

"Pretty sure I'm the reason this campus is gonna be swarming with fucking no name extras next year." Katsuki's smile widens as his hand pops, "If you deny this request with the money I'm making you then I'll participate in the university sports festival with another college's across my fucking chest." 

The Dean visibly sweats, Bakugou really was a hard student to land. His brash attitude and unapologetic behavior was popular among the younger generation bringing with it an influx of applicants and donations. It hadn't even been 24 hours since his announcement did it crash the admin and donation site. He panics, not even sure if there is any real estate available on or around campus in order for him to legally allow this fraternity to flourish. As if reading his mind the secretary of grounds offers him a file, an old run down home within a decent walking distance of the main campus. The Dean exhales the breath he didn't realize he was holding. 

"Let's not act so rash. It has just come to my attention that we have some extra funding to be able to purchase a place for you all…" He looks over the file, he hopes this is enough to placate the hot head, "But it will need some old fashioned sweat equity, if we can secure it. The town has been kind enough to offer us first dibs to real estate within a certain radius of campus and if they like our offer you hardworking men will have your 'Alpha Kappa Wholesome home." 

"They better like your offer." Is all Bakugou says before standing, "We get the keys in a month, got it?"

He doesn't give the Dean time to rebuttal, he just leaves while the other shocked three follow suit. It isn't until they are in the courtyard does their excitement hit them all at once.

"HOLY SHIT BAKUBRO ALWAYS COMING IN ON THE FUCKING KLUTCH!" Denki shouts, tackling Bakugou into a hug, Sero and then Kirishima wrap their arms around the yelling hot head who threatens to blow them up. 

"I owe you a fucking drink!" Kirishima shouts lifting the group and twirling them  

"OI OI OI SHITTY HAIR PUT ME DOWN!" 

After that promised drink and a month of waiting the four musketeers stand before their new home. The house is trashed, easily a short sale of a foreclosure as the rent went higher but their wages stayed low. The amount of work to make this place semi decent was going to be astronomical at best. 

Bakugou is thoroughly unimpressed, scoffing as Denki runs up the porch. The vision is clear in the electric blonde's head. The massive porch is clean, with a swing and some chairs, string lights hanging from the wooden ceiling while the half wrapped around, second story porch is draped in endless artificial star light cloaking the house in cozy warmth. 

Dneki opens the front door and plume of dust rushes out around him, the other two follow suit. Taking the steps two at a time as they rush into the house. Harsh garnet stares after them before glancing at their luggage. He decides to leave it all stepping inside. 

Their imaginations run rampant as they stand beneath the large archway to the main living room while Bakugou begins to second guess opening his mouth. That or getting more money from the Dean. Before displeasure can leave the hot head his friends turn to face him, their eyes shining and smiles stretched wide, wide enough it begins to hurt Bakugou's own cheeks. They encourage him to step into the home more, telling him what will go where. For a moment his smile is soft, tender as he looks at these three idiots seeing the bright side of everything before he steels back into his normal self.

"Oi! Quick acting all googly eyed. We've got a lot of work to do and a lot of fucking money to raise." 

The four friends spend majority of their spring term picking rooms and doing basic cleaning. Bringing only one of the two full bathrooms up to par, trying their best to keep up with the old big house. Even after all of them picked their rooms there were still three bedrooms and a den with a door left. They brain stormed adding recruits but Bakugou shot the idea down despite Sero being elected the president of the frat. 

Spring boils into summer, bringing with it the promise of cold hard cash. Bake sales and lunch deals thanks to Bakugou's cooking skills brought in a large amount of income, so did the odd jobs Kirishima, Denki, and Sero found themselves doing. Still they find themselves short.

"Shirtless carwash!" Denki announces earning a glare from Bakugou. Kirishima pipes up before the idea is blasted sky high. 

"Think of the money man. The community around here is soccer mom's and freshly graduated college kids and I don't know about yall but when I go for a run or hit up the corner store after a good run I'm being stared at." 

"That's a valid point Bakugou. I've seen how they flock to you for baked goods, they've been staring at your arms and eyes man." Sero adds voting yes to the idea making it three to one. 

Just as Kirishima said, woman and even some men, flock to the area for a car wash. Some even coming back twice in one day! The cash flow is good but still a bit lacking. Denki wipes the sweat from his brow as he wonders how they will get enough to be able to get decent light fixtures and a working fridge in the dorm. Let alone anything aside from a blown up mattress and folding chairs in the living room. He scrolls through his social media on his break and comes across the miracle he has been asking for. 

A lovely summer picture of four women in bikinis, three of them his housemates have lived with before. Mina Ashido, Jiro Kyoka,  Ochako Uraraka, and then there is the new woman, you.

But what makes the picture that much sweeter isn't even the content itself, no it's that gorgeous caption just beneath it. 

"BASIC BITCH CAR WASH! Help us raise money for an apartment so our sorority doesn't get disbanded!" 

An idea formulates in the electric blondes head so quickly he thinks sparks fly from his ears. A dangerous smile forms on Denki Kaminari's lips. 

[last-operator-standing]

Toll of the Bell

Chapter 2 - Tempestuous

> Ao3

> Chapter 1 (tumblr)

> Chapter 3 (tumblr)

Summary: What now? He could roll over and accept the fate thrust upon him and die as Adler intended. Starting a new life away from it all couldn't be that bad either. Or…

Or he could finish the mission.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: None apply this chapter

Words: 3.4k (5.4k total)

A/N: This took me a little longer than I wanted but I have the next few chapters thought out now, so hopefully I'll be able to get them done and shared soon!

It's bright and early when Lazar shuffles in and startles Bell awake. He offers a sheepish smile and holds up the tray in his hand as peace offering. "Thought you might be hungry." 

 Bell stares down at the tray Lazar sets across his lap. There's a small bowl of noodles in broth and a pack of unopened saltines along with a bottle of water. "You've been out for a while. Figured you should start with something light." A soft jingle fills the silence and draws Bell's attention. There's a gentle pressure at his left wrist and he tries to peer curiously at what Lazar's doing. 

 "Can't eat without hands, eh?" He playfully waves Bell's now free hand about. Bell can't resist the small smile that makes its way across his face. It falls quickly when he waits expectantly for his other arm to be released only for Lazar to awkwardly avoid his eyes. 

 "Eat up." The atmosphere turns tense and awkward. "We can, uh… Talk when you're done." It sounds more like a question than a statement. Lazar makes a quick retreat, leaving Bell alone with his bland breakfast. 

 Bell sits in silence. The meal remains untouched and he stares unblinking into the cooling bowl. His previous anxieties start to resurface, leaving him nervous and uncertain once more. One question in particular forces itself to the front of his mind.

 What now?

Lazar wouldn't save him just to turn around and execute him, right? He must want something. More intel? Perhaps he and Park were starting a separate investigation into Perseus. 

 "I just.. I feel like I owe you, Bell."

 Bell heaves a heavy sigh. All this thinking was giving him a headache. He finally relents and reaches his free hand for the saltines, bringing them to his still restrained hand to pull the package open. The plastic is stubborn at first and refuses to part. No amount of tugging or prying can pull the traitorous material apart. Bell is seconds away from gnawing the damn thing off when it finally gives, showering him in crumbs and scattering perfectly good crackers to the floor.

 The dramatic groan and loud Russian cursing is well justified, Bell decides. He angrily stuffs a saltine into his mouth and crunches it with a vengeance. The door is abruptly thrown wide, nearly causing him to choke in surprise.

 "Bell, are you-" 

 Lazar pauses to take in the sight of the wide-eyed Bell and his mess of saltines. 

 "I can explain."

 Lazar visibly relaxes and grins. "We thought someone was trying to kill you with all that yelling." From behind his shoulder, Park peers in, calculating eyes scanning the room. They both step inside. Lazar takes a seat on the edge of the bed and snatches a cracker from the open pack. Park remains at the door, leaning against the frame. Bell doesn't miss the way she discreetly holsters her gun. 

 "So, Bell." It's Park who speaks this time, catching his attention. "What do you remember?" Something about her tone feels familiar. Almost.. unsettling.

 "So close to Perseus."

 "I, uh.. Well.." 

 The room is dark. The overhead lamp is the only thing to illuminate the space. Lazar stands nearby. He faces Bell, but his expression is twisted in something akin to discomfort. "The CIA reinvented you, Bell." Adler stands directly beside the gurney he's strapped to, demanding all of Bell's attention. "If you believed you were someone else, we could lead you to a place where you'd give it all up."

 "Fuck this," he hears his voice waver with fear. It's the wrong thing to say. "I don't think so." Adler practically launches himself forward and roughly grabs the front of Bell's vest. "One way or another, Bell, we're gonna get it out of you." 

 "I mean, I remember up to Solovetsky."

 The bitter wind feels good against his face. It brings a sense of serenity to Bell's turbulent thoughts despite the tense atmosphere with Adler. 

 "It was never personal."

 Bell chews on his lip as the memories resurface. "And when Adler.. shot me. But nothing new with Perseus." Park's eyes narrow a fraction, further unsettling him. There's something else on his mind that's been bothering him since the first moment he saw Park. 

 "Ah, well, give it time," Park offers without much conviction. She opens her mouth to speak again but Bell cuts her off.

 "I'm sorry," he blurts. The apology seems to catch Park by surprise. "I should have been faster. If only I had been faster, I could have saved you, too…" Park suddenly looks uncomfortable.

 "It's alright, Bell. It.. It wasn't your fault."

 "How are you..?" 

 "Alive?" Park's expansion finally softens. "After the skyhook pulled you two off, I knew I only had seconds left before I was dead. I managed to stumble back inside and take cover in an empty room. Luckily, Perseus didn't seem interested in checking if the building was clear."

 Bell gets the feeling there's more to her story but he opts not to pry. A silence falls over the three. Lazar keeps picking at the abandoned pack of crackers while Park keeps a steady watchful gaze on Bell. Before Solovetsky, he would have matched her with his own unyielding stare. Back then he had no reason to doubt or fear her. But now he's not so sure. 

 "So kid, what will you do now?" Bell looks away from Park and over to Lazar. He's sitting casually beside Bell like he's unbothered by the tension but his easy smile doesn't quite reach his sharp eyes. It isn't lost on Bell that his words up to now have all been for show. 

 They don't trust me.

 He shifts uncomfortably, careful not to make a bigger mess of crackers and soup, and clears his throat before he speaks up. "Perseus is still out there," he starts slowly. Park's expression flashes and Bell tries not to flinch. Lazar simply watches and listens closely. "Someone needs to stop him. I want to stop him. He still has the codes to Greenlight, right? All he needs is a new location to activate."

 "Why?" Lazar is casual about his question but his eyes tell a different story. He wants to believe what Bell is saying.

 "Because it isn't right." It seems so obvious to Bell that he's almost surprised by the question. "This is bigger than me. Millions of lives are at risk. I don't know who I was before, but.. I know who I am now ." Bell does his best to sell it, and to his relief they seem to buy it. 

 The truth is, the Russian doesn't know what else to do. He can't remember his life before MK-Ultra. Right now, the mission is all he has; stop Perseus. Without that, he has… nothing. 

 "I just want to stop Perseus before he causes a nuclear war."

   And maybe punch those damn shades off Adler's face , but he leaves that part to himself. 

 Lazar hums thoughtfully and Park starts to relax. They don't seem quite at ease yet, but it's a start. 

 Over the next few days, Bell heals and collects himself. After their talk, Park eventually gave in to Lazar's pressuring and agreed to allow Bell some freedom. Stretching his legs feels nice and the fresh air certainly helps him collect his thoughts. This safehouse was undoubtedly cleaner than the last, with actual rooms and furniture rather than a dingy warehouse. 

 "What about Adler?" 

 Lazar and Bell are sitting peacefully at the kitchen table, Lazar with a bagel and an open file, Bell with a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Lazar looks up at the question. "You sound like you're ready to fight him." The Russian huffs with indignance at his amused tone. "He shot me," he complains loudly. "Just one good punch, Lazar. Please ?" 

 "You'll have to get in line," Park grunts as she joins them in the kitchen, gravitating towards the coffee machine. "I think we'd all like to give that bastard a good punch." 

 Lazar grins. "I think you should avoid throwing punches for now, Bell, least he shoots you a second time." Bell pouts. Lazar flicks bagel crumbs at him. "Jokes aside, if you're serious about taking down Perseus, it's probably best if the rest of the team doesn't know you're still alive. For now, anyway. It'll only cause more problems and distractions, not to mention Adler probably wouldn't hesitate to kill you for real."

 Bell sighs dramatically. "Alright, alright, fine . But I'm definitely getting a swing in once Perseus is six feet under." He throws his head back and downs the rest of his coffee. "So where do we start?"

 Park leans against the counter with her mug of coffee. "Well, if you can remember anything about Perseus or his associates.."

 That tone is back again but Bell forces himself to not bristle at it. "I'm sorry. Nothing new has come to kind yet." Park gives a slow nod. "You were our most successful subject. Any old memories will be buried behind weeks of.. reprogramming. Now that the drugs are filtering out of your system, it should only be a matter of time."

 "Is there any way to speed it up?" Park squints suspiciously so Bell is quick to add, "Maybe if I can remember something, we'll know where to head next."

 An idea pops into Lazar's head. "Bell, do you recognize any of them?" He pulls something from the folder in front of him and slides it across so Bell can see. Park steps closer to watch curiously. "They're POIs we think are working for Perseus." 

 It's a group of photos. Bell sets aside his mug to spread them out and study them closely. The first three are men, but he doesn't recognize them. The next two are women and he feels discouraged when their images fail to spark any memories, too. There's one last one. He slides it close and is about to push it away when something scratches at the back of his mind. 

 The pub was lively tonight. Loud and rowdy with cheering, swearing, and the clanking of glass on glass. Bell too embraced the vibes; His spirit was high and he was most certainly past tipsy. He was sitting at the bar with his comrades, a still-full shot glass in hand. 

 "Aww, c'mon, give us the details!" The man to his left nudged him roughly. He grinned  wickedly and despite the sunglasses covering his face, Bell still caught him wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

 "Did he kiss you? Did you kiss him ?" Bell felt his face flush and he shoved back. No way in hell he was going to answer that. "I don't kiss and tell, Vang." 

 "Bell?"

 "Aww, you did !" Bell huffed and threw back his glass as an excuse not to answer. He did his best to ignore how hot his face was. "No, wait. He definitely kissed you, didn't he?" Bell choked on the shot. The man grinned wider. 

 "Leave the poor kid alone." Another familiar voice called out, not bothering to hide their amusement. "Now get over here so I can beat your ass. Loser pays the tab." Bell turned to look at his savior. Their figure is too blurry to make out, but he's so sure he knows them. 

 "Oooh bro, you're going down !"

 "Bell?" Lazar tries again, shaking his shoulder and startling him from the memory. "You alright there? You look like you've seen a ghost."

 "I.." The Russian glances between Park and Lazar before he stares back down at the picture. The person's face is completely covered, but the glasses make him unmistakable. Naga.

 "Kapano Vang," Bell offers quietly and taps the photograph. "They call him Naga." Lazar watches him a moment longer before pulling the picture back over. "You know him?" 

 The memory implied Bell more than just knew him. A feeling in his gut tells him so too. They were.. friends, perhaps. "Yeah.. We are- We were friends. I think." 

 Park remains silent as she observes. Lazar offers a slow nod. A gentle push and the picture lands back in front of Bell. "Do you remember anything else about him?" 

 Bell stares. The shades are so painfully familiar. He can't quite shake the sense he's seen them a lot. This shit is stressful. I need a cigarette. Something in his mind clicks. 

 "New shipment's ready." The nicotine filled Bell's lungs with a pleasant burn. He turned and offered the cigarette to Naga with a hum of acknowledgement. "Got a little extra if you're interested. On the house." The Laotian accepted the cigarette, taking a grateful drag while his free hand slipped into a vest pocket and produced a small package. He held it up to between his fingers and offered it to Bell with a small flourish. "Rest of it's headed out to some of my buyers, so don't get hooked."

 Bell hesitated. "I'm not so sure.." Naga pressed it into his hands anyway. "Hey, hey, it's quality stuff. How do you think my lines stay in business? Your boyfriend will certainly thank me." 

 " Not my boyfriend , man." Naga cackles. "Sure, bro, sure."

 A shaky sigh escapes Bell. The memories are blurry and incomplete, but there's enough there to put some pieces of the puzzle together. "He's.. a smuggler."

 "For Perseus?" 

 Bell gives a small shrug. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess so." Right now, Bell can't be sure about anything.

  "I'll make some calls and check with MI6." Park sets her empty mug in the sink. "We have a name now. That's a good start." 

 Not wasting any time, Bell muses as he watches Park leave. That's fine with him. The less time to dwell on his past transgressions, the less time he'll have to deal with the impending existential crisis. 

 "Meanwhile, I'll check in on the team." Gathering the papers and photos back into the folder, Lazar stands. "What about me?" Lazar barely even pauses to acknowledge Bell. "Stay put. Read a book. Do a puzzle. Embrace day drinking. Do whatever you want, just stay put ."

 "But I-"

 " No , Bell. Water's too hot right now. Just lay low, let it cool. You'll get your turn but not yet. Just enjoy being dead while it lasts." Lazar's wink is met by Bell's deadpan face.

 By noon, the Russian's already run out of things to do. He's showered, washed the dishes, and cleaned the space lent to him. Now he sits at the table once more, impatient tapping the surface and bouncing his leg. He briefly considers snooping but the last thing he wants to do is give Park a reason to confine him to a bed again. 

 Time creeps by. Boredom is barely kept at bay by the pen and paper Bell found discarded on the end table beside the couch. The doodles are nothing to write to home about, but it provides temporary amusement. When he gets tired of that, he abandons them at the kitchen table and opts for a nap. 

 It feels like he's barely just closed his eyes before he's woken by an insistent shaking. 

 "Bell. Get up. Bell ." 

 Bell groans. It's dark now so he has to squint to make out the figure kneeling next to him. "Lazar? What, man, I was sleeping ." 

 "We need to go. Now. C'mon." A hand wraps under Bell's arm and pulls, forcing the Russian to his feet. Lazar's voice was calm, but the firm grip on his arm made Bell nervous. "What's going on?" He has no choice but to allow himself to be guided towards the back door. 

 "Here, wear this." Something is shoved into his hands and he fumbles to grab it. Looking down, it's a thin black coat. Inside rests a matching beanie hat and vibrant blue scarf. "What's going on," he tries again. "You're kinda freaking me out."

 "Look, just put the shit on and I'll explain on the way. There's no time right now."

 Lazar snatches the hat and scarf from the pile and Bell flips the coat around to slide his arms in. He grunts when the hat is forced over his blonde curls and the scarf is wrapped high around his neck and face. Once the coat is zipped and all curls tucked messily under the hat, Lazar practically shoves Bell out the back door and follows close behind.

 The air is bitter and cold but Bell hardly notices past the adrenaline. A brisk pace is set. Squealing tires catch his attention but an arm around his shoulders stops him from turning to look. 

 "Park tipped off MI6." 

 The statement is unexpected. 

 "She called to warn me. Apparently, she

told them she was harboring a loose CIA asset with potentially valuable information that needed to be relocated immediately for proper interrogation. How they got an extraction team on a Soviet island, I'll never know." Lazar heaves a groan as they turn the corner and dip out of sight. "She's going to kill me once she figures out we ran."

 First Adler, now Park. I'm getting tired of proving myself. Bell sighs lightly. For all he knows, Lazar is just leading him to a CIA trap. Who gets the broken toy first, MI6 or the CIA? They walk in silence for some time, occasionally cutting through small alleyways and doubling back around others. 

 "Why are you helping me?" Bell finally speaks up. "Look, if you're just going to take me back to Adler, do me a favor and kill me now." I refuse to be shot by him a second time. 

 "Don't be so dramatic." Lazar gives him a rough pat on the back. "There's another safehouse not much further ahead. I got it sorted out on the way here. Told them I had a potential lead I needed to follow up on and that's all they needed to hear."

 "As for why? Well, I personally think when it comes to catching Perseus, there's nobody more qualified than you. I trust you, Bell."

 A quiet clank-clank-clank fills the silence. Bell's eyes were wide in shock. He wasn't sure he heard right. There were other, more experienced agents who would certainly make a better second-in-command than him. "But sir, surely there's somebody else who-"

 "Nonsense!" Perseus stood from his desk and marched to Bell's side. He swept his coat back and planted firm hands onto Bell's shoulders. "There's nobody more qualified than you. I trust you, comrade." Bell swelled with pride and childlike enthusiasm. "Of course, sir. I won't let you down."

 The memory hits Bell like a slap to the face but he remains nonchalant despite the rising dread. He almost misses Lazar that stopped and narrowly avoids colliding into the back of him. "Right, here we are." 

 Bell finds it odd that the safehouse is nestled in the middle of a public street but he's too tired and too cold to question it. Keys jingle as Lazar frees them from his pocket and unlocks the door. They hurry inside and lock it behind them. "Home away from home." 

 It's smaller than the MI6 house. It's just as neat and organized, though, so Bell can't complain. 

 "Kitchen's here. Bathroom is the first door on the left. Your room will be the second on the left, and I'll be across from you." Lazar gestures as he speaks. "Help yourself to anything you find. I, for one, need some sleep. We can talk about everything in the morning." He disappears down the hall. 

 "What about Naga?" The Russian calls. 'Did you find anything out about him?"

 " Tomorrow, Bell." A door snaps closed. 

 Bell clicks his tongue in annoyance but relents. The coat, scarf, and hat are left discarded on the back of the couch on his way toward his designated room.

Damn it all. As he lays tangled in the sheets and nursing his aching wound, Bell struggles to recall anything else about Naga or Perseus, but he comes up blank. Memories seem to be coming and going at their own discretion and it's infuriating . Now his mind is buzzing too much to sleep. Between Adler and Park and his renewed quest to stop Perseus, he doesn't know what to think. He can only hope Lazar has something to share in the morning to shed some light on it all. 

[superbadassnatural]

Stranger - part one

Summary: After a disastrous date, Y/N decides to drown her sorrows in a bar a few blocks down the road. Luckily, she meets a stranger that manages to talk some sense into her. Pairing: Dean x Reader (future) // Mason (OMC) x Reader (past) Word count: 3,493 Warnings:little bit of angst, fluff, break-up, Dean being the true gentleman he is A/N: this was written for “1541 Folllowers Celebration” hosted by the sweetest of all @herstarburststories (I’m sorry this took me so long). The prompt is bolded. Hope you all enjoy!

(x)

“Whiskey,” a gravel voice mixed with the sound of the stool being pulled out of the counter. “Neat.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look in that direction. You didn’t want another person to see your face. Not that you cared that strangers saw you crying, but you were already feeling humiliated enough for one night. You downed your shot, closing your eyes as your throat burned.

The music filled your ears. You could only hope this man wouldn’t say a word to you. He was the first person to sit near you since you got here. No one dared to take place even remotely close to you, not even three stools from yours. No one wanted to sit beside a crying mess. No one wanted to feel obliged to ask if everything was fine, even though they already knew the answer.

Sometimes you hated how curious you were. You wanted to know if the man was as handsome as you imagined when you heard his voice. You shouldn’t look. The music. Focus on the music. Loud pop songs echoed in the crowded bar. A group of girls danced and screamed over the dance floor. It seemed to be like a bachelorette party. A few guys hustled pool in the back. Others tried to make their way to undergrads’ panties. Older men sat alone in booths, nursing their beer. On your peripheral view, you watched as the man tapped his glass, asking for a refill. The barman poured him another shot of whiskey.

“Mike, can I get more vodka, please?” You held your glass out for him, batting your eyelashes.

“You already had enough, Y/N,” he walked to you, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“But it did me good, didn’t it?” You raised your eyebrows. “Look, I’m not even crying anymore.”

“I know, but we should get you in a cab.”

“Just one more shot and I promise that’s it for the night,” you stuck out your pinky finger to him. He only shook his head.

“We’ve already done this three times.”

“Fourth time's the charm,” you smirked.

“Only one shot and you’re done,” he warned, pouring your drink. “Then it’s just water for you.”

“Thanks, Mike,” grinning, you took the glass from the counter and downed it.

A sigh escaped your lips as the drink burned its way down your throat. You felt a pair of eyes heavy on you. Placing the empty glass on the wooden counter, you turned to the stranger sitting within two feet from you. Piercing green eyes roamed over your form, studying you until they found their way to your eyes. Your breath hitched in your throat as he seemed to stare deep into your soul. It felt as if he was unveiling your deepest secrets. You half-smiled at him with a little raise of your hand in a finger wave. He raised his glass before bringing it to his lips.

“I’m Dean,” he said with a warm smile.

“Y/N,” the sound of your voice helped to remind you of your real condition.

God, he must think you were some lunatic.

You turned away from him, facing the countless bottles displaying in front of you. Your hands flew to your face, fingers trying to clean the smeared mascara under your eyes. On your peripheral view, you noticed the man standing up from his seat. A shaky sigh escaped your lips as he started walking towards you.

“May I?” He asked, hand on the metal stool beside you.

You nodded, not trusting your voice to give him a decent answer. You just wanted to be left alone, but you didn’t want to sound rude. Unlike other people in the bar, he didn’t give you the same pitiful look. His eyes only showed kindness.

“I heard these guys have the best burger in town,” he said. “Is it true?”

Without averting your gaze from the bottles in the display, you shrugged. You could feel his eyes on you. He clicked his tongue, pursing his lips.

“You from around here? Have you eaten here before?” you didn’t answer him. “Right,” he sighed. “Guess we should order and see it for ourselves then.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” you turned to him. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but I didn’t come here to flirt. So if you don’t mind-“

“Wow, wow, I’m gonna have to stop you there,” his green eyes widened. “I’m not trying to flirt with you or anything. Don’t get me wrong, but you seemed pretty beaten up so I thought that maybe you would enjoy some company to get your mind off whatever it is that’s bothering you. Now if you don’t want me here, then just say the word and I’m gone.”

“No, uh, you can stay I guess.”

“Good,” he gave you a short nod. “Burgers?”

“Yeah,” you smiled weakly.

Dean ordered a bacon cheeseburger with a portion of french fries. You decided to order the same. The two of you waited in silence. Not that there was a need to say anything. The food arrived along with two beers. A moan escaped Dean’s lips once he took a bite of his burger.

“Hmmm, this is so good,” he grumbled, his eyes closed and mouthful.

Your lips curled into a small smile at the sight of the stranger savoring his food. You took a bite of your burger, repressing a moan in the back of your throat. It wasn’t the first time you’d tried their food, but it had been a while though. They still had the best cheeseburger in town for sure.

“It’s good, huh?” He asked you, lips curled upwards.

“Yeah, it is.”

You finished the rest of your food in comfortable silence. Both too focused on the heavenly taste and the greasy french fries.

“Shit, you shouldn’t be having that,” he said as you took a sip of your beer.

“Of course I should.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” he shook his head. “That Mike guy said you already had enough to drink tonight and from now on you would only have water.”

“Oh, c’mon, I’m not even drunk,” you nearly whined. “And why would you care?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I just know that if you get really drunk to the point you won’t be able to walk, then someone might want to take advantage of you.”

“Hmmm, you got a point,” you took another gulp of your beverage and he gave you a sharp look. “But you see, Mike is my friend so he’s not gonna let anyone take advantage of me. Especially you.”

“Me?” His green eyes widened, voice rising about an octave or two. “Especially me?”

“I don’t know you. In fact, you could be pretending to be nice just to drug me or something.”

“I’d never do that,” he sounded truly offended.

“How am I supposed to know you’re saying the truth?”

“Guess you just gotta trust me.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed, downing the last bit of your drink. “The last time I trusted somebody all I got was an astronomical heartbreak.”

“Since I’m a stranger, I can’t break your heart.”

“But you could kill me,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m a serial killer,” he rolled his eyes, returning his attention to the bottle in his hand and downing the rest of the beer. “I’m not a serial killer.”

“I know,” you chuckled. “You look harmless, Dean. You seem as innocent as a puppy.”

Dean rolled his eyes, signaling to the bartender to serve another round.

“So do you mind me asking what you're doing here?” He asked, green eyes searching for any expression that gave away the reason you were alone on a Friday night.

“Well, since you’re just a stranger and you’re not a serial killer, then I don’t mind you asking,” you pointed. “My boyfriend broke up with me.”

“That sucks,” he muttered before gulping his beer. “Guess that’s why you look like you’ve been crying for hours on end, right?”

“Right,” you clicked your tongue. “What about you, Dean? What’re you doing here alone on a Friday night?”

“Relaxing I guess,” he shrugged. “Plus, a friend of mine told me the food here is great. I had to figure that out for myself.”

“Hmmm, I see,” you nodded. “Guess I look terrible right now.”

“I wouldn’t say terrible,” he leaned to your side, his lips curving in a playful smile. “You don’t look terrible, Y/N. You actually caught my eyes when I stepped inside.”

“Then you saw my face and-“

“Then I saw your face and wondered what could have broken that pretty girl’s spirit.”

“Mason happened,” you mumbled, eyes focused on the recently opened bottle in your hands.

“So the douche has a name.”

“I thought he was going to propose,” you chuckled humorlessly before taking a large gulp of your beer. “Can you believe it? How crazy is that? I was sure he was gonna propose and he broke up with me!”

“He might be worse than I thought.”

“Oh, he is. I was sure he was planning a surprise. Who the hell invites someone to their favorite restaurant just to break up with them? C’mon, look at me,” you motioned to your body. “I dressed up for this. I put on a really nice dress just to look good. ‘Cause I knew I’d remember this. I was sure I was gonna come back home with a diamond ring on my finger and we’d have some hot ‘hey, we’re engaged’ sex. I’m ridiculous.”

“No, you’re not. That guy certainly didn’t deserve you. If he wanted to break up, he wouldn’t have given you hope for a brighter future.”

“I was probably reading too much into this.”

“So? He still shouldn’t have done it this way.”

“Can you believe he didn’t even pay the check?” A dry chuckle escaped your lips.

“He’s a dick.”

“You know the greatest loves of all time are over now,” you sighed, taking a bite of the last french fry.

“No, they are not,” he shook his head vehemently, staring back at you with wide eyes.

“How do you know that?”

“How do you know they are?” He challenged.

“Look around, Dean,” you said. “Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt? Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore? Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck? DiCaprio and Gisele? They all broke up.”

“So what?” Dean blurted out, his voice rising. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Of course it does,” you argued. “They’re all beautiful, smart, kind people and they are alone. People looked up to them. If they got divorced, then what’s left for me?”

“You have nothing to do with them,” he said. “And since you care so much about famous people and their relationships why aren’t you talking about Beckham and Victoria? Obama and Michelle? Gisele married freaking Tom Brady. He’s way better than DiCaprio,” he pointed out. “The greatest loves of all time aren’t over, Y/N.”

“But why does it feel like they are?”

Tears started to well in your eyes. Your voice wavered just above a whisper. Dean smiled sympathetically.

“You just had your heart broken by someone you care about. It’s okay to feel this way.”

“You’re a nice guy, you know?”

“I heard that once or twice,” he smiled, his head ducking down to hide the blush that crept up in his cheeks. “Now where’s that restaurant you mentioned?”

“Just a few blocks from here. The fancy Italian one,” Dean nodded. “Why?”

“Not today of course, but I’m gonna take you there again sometime.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Teasingly, your lips curled into a smirk. You were having a blast watching him get all flustered.

“No, what I’m saying is since that’s one of your favorite restaurants, you shouldn’t have a bad memory of it.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, your eyes finding his beautiful green irises. “Dean? Can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure, anything. Shoot.”

“When I walked down to this bar I had made up my mind that I would get drunk tonight,” you admitted. “It’s much easier to deal with a hangover in the morning than crying myself to sleep. Can you respect that?” You offered him the best pleading look you could muster.

“Yeah, I can,” he nodded, finishing his drinking and calling for another round. “I don’t judge you, alright?”

“You don’t?” Dean noticed a spark in your eyes when you heard his words.

“I don’t,” he smiled. “I’ve been there. It was a long time ago but I still remember how much it hurt. I drowned my sorrows throughout the whole week. I stank alcohol. Then things got better. They always do. You might not see it now, but you will.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

Dean only shrugged. Silence fell between you. Dean finished what it was his last beer while you had a few more and some whiskey shots. Every gulp seemed like a better idea. It was. Anything was better than having that dull ache in your chest.

“Why did he do that?” You drawled as a cry broke out. Dean snapped from his thoughts and turned to you. “If he didn’t love me anymore, why couldn't he make it painless?”

“Because he’s an idiot and he only cared about himself.”

“Why people always leave me? Am I this broken that people just feel like they need to go away?”

“No, of course not,” his voice was gentle, his hand reached up to your cheek, fingers wiping the tears that fell freely. “You’re not broken, Y/N.”

“How can you say that? You don’t even know me.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re not broken and if people leave you, then it’s their loss,” a weak smile appeared on your lips. “You wanna hear something?” You only nodded. “What kind of tree fits in your hand?”

“What?” You asked with a tilt of your head. Your mind was too foggy to understand where he wanted to get with that.

“What kind of tree fits in your hand?” He asked again, a playful smile hanging on his lips.

“None,” your eyes casted down to your hands, examining them carefully. “My hand is too small to fit a tree.”

“No, Y/N,” he shook his head, trying to hold back his laugh. “It’s a palm tree.”

You stared blankly at him. Dean could almost see the gears in your head slowly spinning due to the alcohol. When you didn’t laugh, he decided it was better to explain it to you.

“Y/N,” he took your hand in his big one. You hummed. “A palm tree.”

“Oh,” you muttered, gaze fixated on your hand in his. Dean searched for any sign that would give away what you thought of his stupid joke. “Oh!” You blurted.

A wave of laughter came out louder than you expected. His joke finally made sense to you. Dean chuckled. He was relieved you found it funny. At least the drunk version of you did. Your laugh was contagious and the most heartwarming sound Dean had heard in months. He watched hiccups escape your lips with a smile.

“Alright, I think you had enough now,” Dean reached for the beer bottle on the wooden counter, he took a gulp and fished it. “We should get you home.”

“Okay,” you sighed, hands fumbling in your purse in search of your phone. “Here,” you placed it in his hands. “Call an Uber for me. It’s-“

“You’re not getting in an uber like this,” he shook his head. “C’mon, I’ll drop you home.”

Dean placed some bills on the counter, enough to cover your drinks and a generous tip. You hopped off the stool in a quick movement, feet wobbling, legs barely able to hold your weight.

“Hey, easy there,” he said, his hands wrapping on your biceps, keeping you steady. “Can you walk?”

“Mmhmm.”

You followed him to his car. Giggles escaped your lips out of nowhere. Dean only smiled with a shook of his head. He opened the door for you, making sure you wouldn’t bump your head or just fall on the passenger seat. You mumbled your address and were surprised that he understood what you said.

“I… I got a joke too,” your tongue drawled most ridiculously.

“You do?” He chuckled, taking a quick glance at you before turning his attention back to the road.

“I do.”

Dean waited for you to share but nothing came out.

“You not gonna share?”

“What do you call a be- a bear with no ears?” You hooted.

“What?” He smiled at you.

“A B.”

Dean chuckled. It wasn’t the kind of laugh you were expecting though. He glanced at you and noticed your arms crossed over your chest while a pout hung on your lips.

“What’s wrong?”

“You didn’t like it,” you mumbled.

“Of course I did,” he nearly squealed.

He pulled up in the driveway and put the car in park. Dean climbed out of it and circled. A creak echoed through your dizzy head as he opened the door. You hopped off your seat, wobbly feet causing you to lose your balance. Firm, warm hands wrapped on your elbows, keeping you from falling. You were so tired and your legs weren’t even cooperating.

“You sure you can walk?” His emerald eyes scanned you. You only shook your head in defeat, not even daring to meet his eyes. “Okay. Just gimme your keys then.”

Hands fumbling in your purse, you found the keys and handed them to him.

“It’s the bigger one,” you told him.

Dean nodded. Before your tipsy mind could get a hold of what was happening, your feet were off the ground. One arm was under your legs and the other supported your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling into his chest. The warmth of his body irradiated through the layers of clothing. His musky scent was almost inebriating.

“Hmmm, so comfy,” you muttered against his flannel.

Dean walked with you in his arms to the front door. He managed to open it without having to let go of you. Stepping inside, his eyes roamed over the living room.

“My bedroom is in the far end,” you explained, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt, eyes closed.

The door to your room was open and Dean was glad for that. He walked in carefully not to have you bumping your head against the doorframe. Dean placed you on the bed. Your entire body relaxed at the feeling of the soft mattress. He removed your boots and you curled up on your side, opening your eyes to see him sitting beside you.

“You okay?” He asked, fingers gently tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“Been better,” you said sleepily. “Doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Good. I’m glad,” he smiled, his thumb caressed your cheek. “You’re tired. I should get going.”

“Don’t,” you whined, holding his wrist. “Stay, please.”

“Only for a little while.”

“The room is spinning,” you chuckled.

“God, you’re gonna wake up to a killer hangover.”

“Yep.”

You got lost in his jade eyes, enjoying his proximity and the feeling of his fingers on your cheek. Even in your drunk state, you could still make some of his gorgeous features.

“Why can’t I just fall in love with someone like you?” Your voice was barely audible as you dragged out most words. “You barely even know me, but you’re already taking care of me. You’re one of the good guys, Dean.”

“I try, sweetheart,” he smiled.

“I can see myself falling for you.”

“Nah, you can’t,” he scoffed. “You’re probably seeing two of me right now.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled.

“I’m gonna get you some water, then you’ll go to sleep, alright?”

“Alrighty,” you yawned.

Dean headed to the kitchen to get you a glass of water. He felt bad seeing you this way. He could see it in your eyes how much you were hurting over the break-up. He walked back into the room only to find you already asleep, curled on your side. He placed the glass on the nightstand.

Before leaving, Dean searched for some paper. He fumbled in your drawers, finding a block of sticky notes and a pen. He wrote down on the paper and left it on the nightstand, your phone on top of it. Dean exited the room, closing the door behind him, and left the house. He made his way to the car and he couldn’t help but hope he’d see you again.

Tomorrow you’d wake up to a pounding headache, a dry mouth, and several waves of nausea. Then you’d found his note resting under your phone.

You probably don’t remember me, but I’m the guy who brought you home safe and sound. I can help you remember what happened last night. And I kinda owe you a date to that restaurant you like. Just call me: (785) 389-7216 or don’t. I don’t know. - Dean.

Read part two here!

I’d love to know what you think of this one! Consider sharing your thoughts with me via reply, reblog or ask!

Forevers: @hobby27​ @thewinchesterandreidwhore 

Dean Sweethearts:@maya-craziness @akshi8278 @herfalsegod @witch-of-letters @weepingwillowphoenix @deanmonandnegansbitch

[radiorenjun]

I Don't Need It

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn't stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: vii, viii

"What? They can't just break up like that!" you gaped, shaking Renjun's shoulder lightly to exaggerate your point. Renjun rolled his eyes before clicking his tongue, "oh come on, you didn't see that coming? Their relationship was bound to end at some point, y/n."

You were both binge watching the ninth season of The Big Bang Theory at your house, originally planning to study and do chemistry homework  together, but being the procrastinator you were, you ended up getting distracted. Hence, why the two of you are sitting on your bed watching one of the most heartbreaking episodes on The Big Bang Theory while munching on some pizza,

“But they were so cute together! My Shelamy heart can’t take this, Injun!” you shook your best friend aggressively as you continue to whine, ignoring the sighing boy who was contemplating on why he was even friends with you in the first place. “He even got a ring for her, if that isn’t the cutest thing ever then I don’t know what is,” you groaned, collapsing on your bed as the thought of someone giving you a wedding ring made your heart flutter.

“Always the hopeless romantic,” Renjun sighs, running a hand down his face as if to say ‘I’m so done right now’. “Disgusting,” he teased, letting out a soft grunt once he felt you throw a pillow at the back of his head. “Shut up, nerd. You still have to find your soulmate, why not let your magnificent best friend mourn over the fact that she’s gonna be single for the rest of her life and let a girl dream?” you joked, earning a dark glare from Renjun.

Ouch, why did that hurt? It was your own joke after all. 

“Don’t say that you sadist. You need to stop making jokes bout the bad things in life, that’s not very healthy.” Renjun lectured, his hand coming up to pinch your cheek hard. You frowned, pulling his hand away from you as you chuckled nervously. “You know me, Jun. Humor is a coping mechanism for everything. I’m mad at you when you mock me for simping over Timothée Chalamet when he starred on Little Women? I use sarcastic humor as a revenge.” 

“I feel frustrated for failing that test because the damn substitute teacher wouldn’t believe me that I didn’t skip school instead of spending the whole day in the infirmary with a twisted ankle, watching Goblin with the nurse? I use sardonic humor to snap back at said teacher.”

“I get sad for accepting the fact that I am going to be single for the rest of my life? I use dark humor to cope with it instead of curling up in a ball and eat ice cream for the rest of my life and get Type 2 Diabetes.” you shrugged shamelessly as Renjun gaped at you, rubbing his temples to slowly process on your words. “Okay, firstly,” he started.

“One, Timothée Chalamet in that movie was desperately simping over a girl who clearly didn’t deserve him. Come on, tell me you didn’t get annoyed when he keep saying the l word at Jo despite her spilling her feelings out and rejecting him countless of times.” Renjun inhaled, his eyes boring widely into yours, his words speaking nothing but facts. “I get that but-” you started before the older boy cut you off, “I’m not done yet.”

“Secondly, that substitute teacher wasn’t even a teacher. She was an ear raping machine, no one liked her. Also, I gotta admit spending a whole school day watching the Goblin arguing with The Grim Reaper instead of spending excruciating hours writing your wrist off and trying not to snooze in the middle of Mr. Lee’s math lecture would’ve been the most luxurious thing a student could ever ask for”. And I am pissed off you got injured and left me there in class, suffering all by myself.” he laughed, flicking you on the forehead teasingly.

“Lastly, if you want to say something bout Jaemin, you know you could’ve just say so instead of sugar coating it.” Renjun sucked in his lips, smacking you with the pillow you threw at him previously, mentally preparing himself to comfort you knowing that you’re bout to go on another rant of how much you missed Jaemin. But if it helps you feel better and take another small step to moving on, then he’ll listen to you rant til his brain implodes.

You frowned, letting out a soft chuckle. “You know me too well, Jun.” you felt tears lining up your eyes, you leaned your head up, trying to blink the tears away. “It’s not helping when he’s literally next door. Or in the same school as I am, or in the same planet.” you leaned back to lay on your back on the mattress, your pillow hugged tightly to your chest as you let out a heavy, frustrated sigh.

Renjun patted your knee, silently urging you to continue to let out your thoughts. You couldn’t advert your gaze away from your ceiling, “He used to be so sweet before this whole soulmate ordeal,” you began with a sniffle. “Honestly, middle school was one of the best eras of my life. When me and Jaemin were just clowns on crack playing Five Nights At Freddy’s and goofing off, it still makes my heart flutter when I think bout the memorable moments we shared in middle school.” you closed your eyes as a flood of memories clouded your mind.

  7th grade, an iconic year for your friendship. “Y/N!” Jaemin called out from the other side of the classroom, causing you to turn to him in the middle of your little gossip session with your friends. “You wanna play truth or dare with us?” he asked with a sweet smile, a few of your classmates gathering to the back of the class to sit down in a circle. You nodded in excitement, ditching your friends in hopes you get a spicy dare.

You sat in between Lia and Jeno, rubbing your hands together as you waited your turn to either give or receive a truth or dare. “Jaemin! Truth or dare?” a boy whose name you can’t recall asked with a mischievous smile. Jaemin rolled his eyes before answering “dare” with a bold, cocky smirk, eyes practically challenging his classmate to give him an extreme dare. The boy stopped to contemplate before turning to him with a cheeky chesire grin.

“Since you’re so close to Y/n, why don’t you sit on her lap?” the boy snarled, causing your classmates to let out whistles and soft “ooo”s around you. You raised a brow, “wait a second, that’s not fair. This is his dare not mine, why am I the one being sat on.” you whined as Jaemin tried to hide his flustered expression of sitting on his best friend’s lap. “Well, it’s a dare either way, he’s gotta do it whether he wants to or not.” he stuck his tongue out at you as you hissed back.

“Fine.” you mumbled as Jaemin laughed and tried to conceal his flustered expression and sat on your lap idly, his hands in between his legs as you try to restrain yourself from wrapping your arms around his waist and making things even more awkward than it already is. “What’s the big deal? You wanted me to sit on her lap, why are you so shocked?” Jaemin laughed as a few of your classmates just stared at the two of you in disbelief. 

“How are you not uncomfortable with a guy sitting on top of your lap?” your friend asked from across the group circle. You shrugged, raising your brow as Jaemin lets out a laugh, shrugging in response as well. “Is it wrong for a person to sit on their best friend’s lap?” Jaemin asked with a raise of his brow, a teasing smile evident on his face as your friend struggled to find the words to say next.

“I must admit, you are quite heavy. I don’t think my legs are going to last long with your heavy, tall giraffe-like body.” you laughed, causing Jaemin to turn his head back at you with a glare, letting out a small sinister smile. ”That sounds like a ‘you’ problem, y/n. Suffer.” he spoke in a bittersweet tone.

“Wait, so you’re telling me that you had Mr. Na Jaemin sitting on your lap? For how long? All because of a dare?” Renjun paused, rubbing his temples to process this whole information. He knew Jaemin was a shameless and rather affectionately touchy boy, but he didn’t know that he was willing to accept such a gutsy dare. Yet again, this is you, he’s talking bout. The person who kept going for two years despite being rejected and gossiped left and right.

You shrugged, sitting up on the bed. “I was like, 11 years old. What do you want me to do, Huang? Born to be the family disgrace.” you grinned proudly, wiggling your brows as you placed a hand under your chin to pose dramatically. “You shouldn’t be proud of that. Weird flex but okay,” Renjun sighed heavily, raising a bottle of coke to his lips.

You inhaled as you began to spill another memorable moment from your childhood. 

If there was one thing you and Jaemin had in common, it was that you both have absolutely no shame when flaring your dramatics.

It was 5th grade, you assume, when you and Jaemin had your first indirect kiss. It was a disturbingly iconic moment for the two of you, considering years after the incident you two kept doing it as if it were a part of your daily routine. You were at that age where kids around you were starting to take notice bout the soulmate concept. Teachers began explaining how the soulmate system worked during science class, causing you to involuntarily look at Jaemin from time to time to catch his disgusted expressions.

Often, snickering at the boy sitting in front of you who was gagging and mimicking the teacher as she explains. Sticking his tongue out in disgust when they started explaining the left tattoo concept. Jaemin sighed heavily, his hand stretching out to grab the water bottle on his table. His finger raised to push the lid off with a small pop, drinking without hesitation.

Jaemin looked down as he closed the lid and his brows furrowed at the oh-so-familiar name label on the lid of said water bottle. Written on the pink label with a sailor moon picture on the side was Y/N L/N. Jaemin almost threw up when he turned to you slowly, making you look up from your notes to give him a questioning nod at his horrified expression.

The little boy raised the water bottle to show you your little sailor moon label, making you raise your brow questioningly, as if to say, ‘what’s wrong with my sailor moon label?’ 

Crud, he forgot you were using the same water bottles your parents got you when you were both shopping at the thrift store.

Your eyes widened in realization when Jaemin pointed at himself and your bottle, trying not to scream in terror and get a scolding from your strict science teacher. ‘Did you,’ you mouthed, pointing an accusitory finger at the boy sitting in distress in front of you. ‘Drink from my,’ you continued, using your other hand to point dramatically at yourself then to your bottle that was still in his hands. ’My bottle?’ you asked with wide terrified eyes.

Jaemin practically gulped nervously, nodding in response. You both took a moment just staring into each other’s terrified expression, before mouthing ‘what the heck?!’ or ‘oh crud’ repeatedly, as to not gain your teacher’s attention.’You drank from my water bottle, Jaemin?!’ you mouthed, rubbing your hands against your face in distress. ‘How am i suppose to drink now?’ you whined, facepalming now that Jaemin had placed your water bottle back on your desk.

‘How am I suppose to live now knowing your spit is basically in my body? ‘ Jaemin shudders in response, grabbing his throat with disgust laced across his face. ‘Gross, I have your germs in my mouth.’ he stuck his tongue out in disgust, fake gagging as you rolled your eyes.

Renjun just gave you an incredulous look, his mouth gaping open, trying to decide whether to laugh or shake his head profusely. “Gosh, you two were born to be so dramatic. Seriously, while other people are having a mental breakdown over doing algebra, you two were in the back of the class making lovey-dovey faces because you two had your first indirect kiss.” Renjun laughed, clapping his hands as he howled back in laughter.

You sat up and whined, smacking your best friend with the pillow you were hugging earlier, causing him to laugh even more.”Oh god, I wish I came here sooner to witness that.” he wheezed, dodging your hits with his forearms as you continued to smack him on the face, chanting “shut up, Huang!” repeatedly in shame.

“I couldn’t drink from that bottle for months! It was my favorite bottle, too! The fact that Jaemin brings that bottle to school everyday was just traumatizing for the both of us! Instant trauma,” you groaned, leaning back dramatically against the mattress. Renjun laughed, smacking you with a pillow. “How did that even happen?” he asked incredulously.

“Some kid decided it would be funny to switch our bottles.” you pouted, stretching your arms across the bed like a starfish. “Did you two do anything bout it?” Renjun asked, his brows raising in amusement, practically eating your hilarious story up like it was a tub of candy. You sighed, looking away for a moment before mumbling under your breath.

“Jaemin said we should’ve replace the water in his water bottle with tap water from the bathroom, but I didn’t want to risk the guy getting a tummy ache so I spat in his drink instead.“

Renjun howled with laughter, a hand coming to hold his stomach as he leaned his head back laughing. “Why would you- Oh my god, this is gold. I can’t-” he wheezed, tears lining his vision as his tummy started to ache from laughing so hard. “Shut up! I was like, nine years old at the time. At that exact moment I felt no remorse for my actions whatsoever but now that I said it, it makes me feel even worse!” you whine, your feet kicking Renjun off the bed.

He landed on your carpet floor with a loud thud, his laughter subsiding into giggles. “That’s the chaotic energy everyone in this generation wants to have, holy shit, why wasn’t this documented ? This could’ve gone down as one of the most iconic moments in history. Honestly, whoever that kid who switched your bottle was, he’s that hero that doesn’t even need a cape.” he jokes, sitting up to earn a death glare from you.

Oh, if looks could kill, right now.

“Whatever, you sadist. Enjoying your time as you watch me suffer in despair.” you swung your arm over your eyes dramatically, feeling the mattress sink, assuming that Renjun had climbed onto the bed once again. “Come on, tell me another one. I promise I won’t laugh,” Renjun raised his pinkie finger with a soft smile. You raised your brow at him with your lips in a frown, causing Renjun to shrug innocently, “too much.”

You inhaled, your mind delving deep into the loving memories you had with Jaemin throughout your life. Your heart clenched at the next story you were bout to tell, the memory making your heart wanting to reach out for his even more. “Well, there was this one time-”

  Ninth grade. Senior year of middle school. The previous day, you danced under the rain as Jaemin watched you from under the bus stop, hiding for shelter as you jumped around the empty cold streets. The fresh smell of rain hitting your nostrils as water made your clothes clung to your skin. Unfortunately for you, the next day you immediately got sick with a fever.

Receiving countless of text messages saying either ‘I told you so’ or ‘lucky bitch, you get to miss our physics test’ from Jaemin. You were shivering under the layers of blankets and hoodies you were wearing, stirring awake every hour due to how cold or thirsty you felt, tossing and turning every now and then. You turned when you heard your bedroom door opening, wondering who it was considering both your parents were busy at work at this hour.

Your eyes widened to see Jaemin, a coat hanging over his arm as he closed the door, and a plastic bag filled with delicious warm soup that you could smell from a mile away. “I can’t believe you left me to suffer all alone in school, I swear you purposely didn’t listen to me because you didn’t want to do that boring test.” Jaemin whined, a pout evident on his lips.

“Nana!” you exclaimed in a giddish tone, making grabby hands at him. Jaemin chuckled as he walked closer to your bed, sitting on the corner of your bed beside you, leaning his back against the headboard. He lays his coat on the chair behind your study desk, putting the plastic bag of food on your lap when you sat up. “Eat up. The sooner you get better, the sooner I can hug you to death for leaving me today.” He jokes.

You smiled, opening the plastic container inside to smell the scrumptious soup inside. “Chicken noodle soup, your favourite.” he spoke in a soft tone, smiling lightly at you. You grinned, grabbing the plastic spoon that came with it. “What? No soda on the side?” you grinned cheekily, earning a soft pinch to your cheek by your best friend. “Don’t you dare make song references in front of me as if you didn’t listen to me bout dancing under the rain yesterday, look where it got you now.” he tuts, shaking his head in a motherly manner.

“Geez, sorry, mom.” you teased, beginning to consuming your soup. “You’re sweating a lot, that’s a good sign.” Jaemin pushed a strand of hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear, the sudden action causing you to pause from your eating for a brief moment, before shrugging it off. “I’ll probably feel be back to normal in a day or two.” you shrugged, gulping down a spoon full of soup.

“You’re gonna need to change, take your hoodie off.” Jaemin exclaimed, pulling your almost finished soup away from you. You let out a loud, “huh?” in response, your eyes widening at his sudden statement, trying to see if he was joking but no, Jaemin was dead ass serious.

“Take your hoodie off.” Jaemin ordered. “Jaemin!” you exclaimed, pulling your blankets up to your chin, protecting yourself from him. “You’re not gona get any better with wet stinky clothes on you, Y/N.” Jaemin rolled his eyes, walking over to your closet to grab a really baggy shirt of yours, tossing the big fabric over your face. You sat up and pulled the shirt off of your face to see Jaemin strip the white hoodie he was wearing over his body.

Your eyes caught the black shirt he was wearing underneathe had tugged up along with his hoodie, exposing his toned stomach to prove the results of how much time he spent working out at the gym with Jeno recently. 

You squeaked at the action, looking away with a small blush tinting your cheeks. “Jaemin, what are you-” you flushed, taking the risk of looking at Jaemin again with a flustered expression to see your best friend standing in front of you with his white hoodie clutched in his hands. “Change your clothes, you’re gonna get even more sick if you lay there with wet clothes. You ran out of hoodies, use mine, instead.” he spoke sternly.

“Jaemin, I don’t think that that’s really necessary-” you let out a small squeak when Jaemin’s face came close to yours, his hand laying on your forehead and the other laying on his own. “You’re fever’s getting even worse. Change clothes and finish your soup while I get a warm towel ready, Y/n” He spoke, turning to leave your room, shutting the door behind him, unaware of how red your face must’ve been at the sudden contact.

You felt your heart beat increase at the actions that had happen before you, Jaemin’s hoodie resting on your lap, his strong cologne filling your senses, causing you to flush red even more as you tugged your wet sweaty clothes off and changed into the shirt and hoodie Jaemin picked out for you. You bit your lip when you could practically feel his scent engulf your whole being, your face becoming more red.

Did he always smell this nice?

The fresh smell of cinnamon and comfort was the only thing you could say to describe the indescribable scent of your best friend. You felt your heart flutter at the thought of constantly wearing his hoodie, but your thoughts were quickly interrupted when Jaemin came into your room with a bucket filled with warm water and a towel in hand.

“Lay down, y/n” he ordered, sitting on the bed beside you as you sunk down on the bed, pulling your bed sheets up to your nose so he wouldn’t see how red your face is. Jaemin didn’t think much of it when he dipped the water in the warm water, squeezing the water out to leave the towel warm and soaked, laying the warm towel on your forehead.

“You really didn’t have to do this, you know.” you bit your lip, sighing at the contact of his fingertips grazing against your skin as he layed the towel gently on your forehead. “I know, but you’ll probably die here if I don’t,” he chuckles. dipping the towel again once it got cold, squeezing the water out before placing it back on your forehead. “Does that mean you care bout me, Na Jaemin?” you smirked. “That’s quite embarrassing.” you teased.

Jaemin rolled his eyes softly at you, pinching your cheeks before cooping your nose. “There’s nothing embarrassing for a guy to care for his girl.” he commented simply. It felt like an arrow of pure adoration had struck through your heart. Well, that comment backfired. Wait, what does he mean by ‘his girl’?

“I’m your girl?” you spoke after a moment of hesitation, feeling your heart race against your ribcage once again. Jaemin chuckled, flicking your forehead teasingly, “not like that, you cheeseball.” he grinned, booping your nose once again before removing the towel from your forehead.

“Get some sleep, I’ll be right here when you need me. That is, unless your parents kick me out for staying too long.” he giggles, carressing your hair with his calloused fingers. “They’ll never kick you out, you live literally next door, Nana.” you giggled, nuzzling against his touch. Jaemin chuckled, putting the towel into the bucket before leaning in to give you a sweet kiss on your forehead.

Your eyes widened at the sudden act of affection, causing Jaemin to grin shyly. “You just look adorable, right now.” he mumbles under his breath before standing up and walking towards the door. “Go to sleep! I’ll be watching TV if you need me!” Jaemin exclaimed before closing the door with a soft click.

I don’t know bout you, but you knew you couldn’t sleep after his sudden display of affection.

You didn’t even realize tears were slowly streaming down your face until you let out a soft sob, Renjun’s figure coming close to comfort you. You felt Renjun’s arm wrap around your back, his hand coming up to your head to lean it against his shoulder. You sniffled, trying to swallow the sob that’s waiting to erupt from your mouth.

It was like day one all over again, with you crying your eyes out and Renjun comforting you by your side with food and movies. You shut your eyes tight once you felt that familiar burning sensation on your wrist, your heart aching and stinging against your chest. Renjun noticed your pained expression, his hand quickly yet gently coming up to see your left wrist, his eyes widening at the sight. “I’ll get you an ice pack, okay?” Renjun asked worriedly, carressing your soulmate mark as if it would soothe the burning sensation.

You nodded, crying even more as Renjun quickly bolted out your room, his footsteps echoing down the halls. You sniffled, trying to wipe the tears away with your palms, but like an endless waterfall, it never stopped. Nor did the pain in your heart.

Renjun came back with a sympathetic expression plastered on his face, coming up to you and gently placing the frozen packet of peas he found in your freezer on your glowing red tattoo. Renjun softly shushing you and caressing the back of your hair, his own heart aching to see his best friend like this. He couldn’t count the many times you had cried to him bout Jaemin since the dinner with your parents.

The countless amount of times he would press a cold surface onto your left burning wrist.

The countless times you would rant how your heart was begging for Jaemin’s stupid presence.

The countless times he wanted to punch Jaemin for not showing a single ounce of guilt and for how oblivious the younger boy is to how much he had been inflicting your pain.

You fell asleep in Renjun’s hold, the pain on your wrist subsiding into a dull ache, your heart beat in your ears.

Jaemin practically dragged his bag on the floor as he entered the room. His mood decreasing as the seconds go by, his eyes dark with exhaustion and pain. Lately, he hasn’t been focusing properly on the tasks in front of him, his mind was always somewhere else when Coach was discussing strategies for next week’s game.

He was always spacing out to the sound of his own heart beating in his ears, his eyes setting on a certain object in the corner of the room he was in, his body freezing in place as his whole head was in a haze. He’s gotten a countless amount of scolding for spacing out in the middle of practice, the endless amount of times Coach would get a student to hold a volley ball from the storage closet, ready to hit him with whenever he spaces out during practice matches.

Today, he was on his breaking point, he recently failed his History test, then got another scolding from Coach. Hell, he was called to the office in the middle of class, the Coach’s heavy frown never bringing ease to his now tense figure. 

Jaemin collapsed on his bed with a soft thud, trying to keep his breath under control as his Coach’s words echoed in his head, his head buried into the soft fabric of his pillow. He tried to keep his mind from overthinking Coach Kim’s words adding into his stress.

“Na Jaemin, recently, I’ve become aware of how much you’ve been a little... distracted, lately. I’m sorry to say but as Captain of the whole team, you need to be on full focus for the game. If you can’t do that then I’m afraid someone else will.”

Jaemin gripped his pillow tightly, his breathing deepen as he tries to calm himself, his heart beat increasing. He squeezed his eyes tight, the look of disappointment in his team’s expression was all he could think bout for the rest of the day. His heart feeling heavy in his chest.

“I know, I know, this seems too far but, we can’t afford to lose the school winning streak all because of our captain spacing out because of who knows what! I know I sound delirious for saying this, but we can’t risk this.” 

Jaemin remembered the heavy feeling of promising his Coach that he will get his problems sorted out right away so it wouldn’t interfere in the way of winning the game. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if the endless hard work he puts into playing football the past two years went to waste when the position he trained so hard to earn was taken away just like that.

Jaemin sniffled, sitting up as he tries to shake those thoughts away. His eyes blurring slightly at his Coach’s words repeating themselves inside of his head. He stood up, stretching his arms out to release the tension in his muscles, as he tries to delve into a more positive state of mind. His eyes closing in concentration.

‘Don’t think so negatively, Jaemin. You can do this, just stay focused at the task at hand and worry bout this weird pain after the game.’

Jaemin unconsciously walked towards his window, an exhausted groan eliciting from his mouth. ‘You’ve got this !’ he thought with determination, calming his thoughts as a content smile stretched across his face. Jaemin opened his eyes slowly, his bunny smile immediately dissipated into a deep frown, his eyes widen slightly at the sight from the window across his.

You were with Renjun on your bed, doing what looks like cuddling in each other’s warm embrace. You were sitting in between Renjun’s legs, your back facing Jaemin, making him unable to see your expression. Your head was leaning against Renjun’s shoulder, his hand coming up to caress the back of your head. Jaemin’s eyes never left your figure being in such an intimate position with Renjun.

Jaemin felt his own blood boiling, his previously sour mood returning in an instant, his heart beating in his ears as his eyes stared daggers into Renjun’s head. He watched as Renjun’s eyes gaze contently to your figure laying comfortably on his, his fists clenching even more at the sight. That is, until Jaemin snapped out of it with a shake of his head. 

What was wrong with him?

Why was he feeling so angry bout seeing you cuddling with someone like that?

Yet again, when was the last time you cuddled him like that. Jaemin pulled his curtains to cover the sight across him, walking to the bed, running a hand through his hair. before leaning back to lay down on his mattress with his back facing his white sheets.

Jaemin sighed as he got lost in his own thoughts once again. When was the last time he cuddled you? Or held your hand? His head turned to the side, eyes scanning the picture frames he hung up on the walls of his room, stopping at the picture you took on your trip to Busan during winter back in 7th grade.

In the picture, you had Jaemin wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a gentle embrace. Your smile wide and your expression filled with laughter as Jaemin's happy one focused on the camera. Your eyes weren't on the camera, though, they were on him.

Cheeks and noses warm and red from the cold snow, clothes stained with the snow you played with to make snow angels and snowmen, your smile so wide, Jaemin could almost hear your bright laughter from the picture itself. As if he was reliving in that exact moment.

When did you stop smiling like that?

Jaemin realised he never noticed how forced your smiles became, how you use humor to mask every single emotion, how no matter how tired you are, you always manage to joke bout the littlest things to make him crack a smile.

"Why are you sad?" Jaemin asked as he drove you home one day, you glanced up at him with exhaustion glossing over your pupils, showing how pained you were for a split second, before you crack into a loving eye smile.

"I'm not sad, silly. I'm just tired of Mrs. Lee getting up in my ass yelling at my ear as if she was begging for my head to explode and have blood erupting out of my neck like a distorted volcano pms-ing." you joked, causing Jaemin to let out a soft laugh.

"You have the weirdest thoughts, I swear." he shook his head, his eyes glancing at you for a split second before returning to the road. "You're not normal yourself, Nana. We're all clowns in this generation, don't act like its a weird thing." you laughed, smacking his shoulder lightly.

Jaemin raised his brow at you, "me? A clown? You're practically born in a circus." he chuckled. "Says the person who says 'wow' every five seconds for the simplest of things. Post Malone basically wrote that song off of you, you should sue." you giggled, causing him to giggle.

"I am praying to God so that he could add at least add more braincells into that silly head of yours." Jaemin laughed. "God made me to be a clown, I must live on with my purpose, Nana." you added with a wink. "And a simp, too." you giggled.

Jaemin rolled his eyes at the memory, smiling at your terrible attempt at flirting. But his smile turned into a concerned expression once he remembers how pained your eyes looked at the time. As if you were holding pent up frustration, pain and emotion behind the humor.

Since when did you try to hide everything with humor? And when did he start to be one of those people who believed that you were okay behind that bright exterior? He was your soulmate for-

Wait, a second. Your soulmate? Why was he addressing himself like this? So what if he's your soulmate? It doesn't give him the right to barge into your personal problems. You didn't want to do anything with him after that dinner party, so why would he bother to think bout you when you were probably moving on with Renjun?

Jaemin licked his lips bitterly, his brows furrowed in frustration. A hand coming up to rub his face in distress, what was wrong with him these days?

Jaemin's thoughts went to how your body slumped weakly in Renjun's embrace, his eyes glancing down at your figure in a protective manner, his hand caressing your soft hair to soothe and comfort you. Jaemin knew how this would lull you to sleep in an instant, send you in a cuddly haze in people's arms.

Why did he know this?

Because he was the first one to experience it first hand, why should Renjun experience such an endearing moment? Why should Renjun see how vulnerable you are when it comes to-

Jaemin winced as the familiar pain in his chest resurfaced, his wrist aching again. He closed his eyes, 'not this again,' he thought to himself. Jaemin leaned over his drawer, his heart aching heavily against his chest as he opened the drawer to pull out a couple of pain killers

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