#note to self: teenage angst shows don’t hit anymore

[curlykytta]

hilarious that I planned to gif what I watched this year and then the first full kdrama I watched I hated.

#Like would it be petty if me to be like #I hated this show and then tag it for my blog? #i just didn’t give a shit about sad Harry Potter I’m sorry #note to self: teenage angst shows don’t hit anymore

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Aim For The Heart | Chapter 16: Heartstrings

Pairing: hitman!jungkook x female reader

Genre: romance, drama, angst, fluff

WC: 7.3k

Warnings for this chapter: strong language, teenage heartbreak :(, two bumbling fools that are emotionally constipated, I think that’s it

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

Previous > Next

6 years ago:

"Mina, I'm so nervous!"

Mina laughs lightly at the way you bounce up and down on your bed, "It'll be fine, ____! He'll totally like you back, girl don't even worry about it!"

You let out a nervous giggle as you jump off your bed and run to your closet, "What should I wear?" 

"____, you literally have a school uniform," Mina laughs again. 

You turn and pout at her, "Heyy, I know that! I was asking which one I should wear, the burgundy socks or the white ones? Tie or no tie? Blazer or no blazer? Long-sleeved or short?"

Mina shakes her head in amusement, "You're cute and he'll think so no matter what you wear," She rubs her chin in thought, "But definitely the white socks, the burgundy tie with the grey sweater vest instead of the blazer, and long sleeves."

You do a little dancy dance of excitement before grabbing the decided clothes out of your closet and hurrying to pull them on. Mina is already dressed in her uniform, waiting patiently as she sits on your bed. 

When you're all ready to go, you grab the little box on your bedside table and run out of your room, causing Mina to stumble after you. 

_______

By the time lunch rolls around, you're buzzing with excitement at the prospect of getting to see him. 

Not to mention being able to finally tell him how you feel. 

Mina is by your side the whole way to your locker as you grab the little box out. 

She nudges your shoulder as you two walk to the cafeteria, "You can do this, ____."

You nod, your tummy all in knots to the point that you're not sure if you'll even be able to eat. 

Despite that, you finish everything on your tray while your legs bounce in anticipation. 

Once you two make your way outside to the field, you are trying your hardest not to hightail it back inside. Mina holds your arm though, preventing you from doing so. 

"You can't back out now, babe."

Mina's words terrify you but you know she's telling the truth, you can't just go on without at least trying. 

A bunch of kids are milling around outside, some of the boys showing off to the girls as they size how tall they are compared to each other.

Then you see him, in all his glory. 

He's standing in the field with a few other boys from his class, chatting. 

His dark blonde hair glistens in the sunlight as he laughs at something one of his friends said. 

You feel your heart leap to your throat and you freeze, "I- I can't..."

"____," Mina turns to you, placing her hands on your shoulders, "I am not about to let you give up now, not right before you do it! Just go over there. If you can't speak, then just hand it to him, simple as that. He'll understand when he opens it anyway."

You nod stiffly, "What about his friends?" Your voice shakes, "I'm scared to do it in front of them."

Mina nods, "I got this." 

You're about to protest but she's gone, already marching her way over to them. 

You watch in embarrassment as Mina taps one of the boys on the shoulder. He turns and smiles when he sees her. Mina is gorgeous, of course he'd smile when she spoke to him. 

You're really her only friend, as she is yours, but the boys are constantly swarming around her nonetheless. 

You start to feel self-conscious when you see the boy making your heart thump heavily look at Mina and smile brightly. 

Shoot, what if he likes her?

You can't compare to her. 

Besides, she's your best friend, you'd give him up for her if she wanted him.

You'd do anything for her. 

You snap out of it when you see Mina leading the two boys that were with him away, then she gestures at you behind her back. 

You force your feet to move as you hurry over to him before he moves on to talk with someone else. 

Just as he's turning, you're coming up. 

He almost bumps into you, a surprised gasp slipping from his lips as he notices you. 

"Oh, sorry! I didn't see you there."

You smile crookedly, "It's- It's fine!" You squeak out. 

His smile widens as he looks at you, "You're ____, right? Tenth grade?" 

You nod like a darn bobblehead, your words suddenly stuck in your throat. 

He's so handsome. 

And cute. 

And sweet. 

And thoughtful.

And-

"I'm Jimin," He reaches a hand out to you, "It's nice to officially meet you."

You take his hand, letting him shake it as his bright smile continues to beam. 

"I know, um," You need to get it together, "You're in eleventh."

He nods, "Yes, only one and a half years left of these ridiculous uniforms," He chuckles. 

You nod stupidly, "Uh, yeah," A nervous laugh slips from your mouth.

Just do it, rip it off like a band-aid.

"I uh- I have something for you."

He looks at you with curiosity, his pretty eyes glancing down to the box in your hands. 

Then his smile fades. 

Your heart stops in your chest when you see the look of recognition on his face. 

He's been confessed to before, of course he has. 

Your shoulders slump. 

You just want the ground to open up and swallow you. 

He looks back up at you and gives you a gentle smile. 

The smile of rejection. 

"____, you're really sweet-"

Oh, no. 

"I would say yes in a heartbeat, really. You're different from the other girls here, you care about people, I can tell. I've seen it-"

"But?" Your voice comes out as a whisper.

His smile turns sad, "But there's a girl I like already. I'm sorry, ____."

It feels like someone just tore out your heart and stomped it into the ground. 

You don't say anything. 

You can't. 

It hurts too much. 

You just open the box and pull out the note, tucking it into your palm before closing the box again and handing it to him. 

Jimin takes it reluctantly, still watching you carefully, his eyes sad and regretful.

"____-"

"I hope you like the cookies," You smile at him, finally meeting his eyes, "Just think of it as a friendship gift, nothing more."

Jimin nods, still looking guilty as hell. 

"I hope it works out for you Jimin, I really do."

"Thank you, ____."

Then you turn and walk away, pieces of your heart falling behind you with each step you take. 

A minute later you hear Mina calling to you, but you don't stop. 

You hurry inside and to the locker rooms. 

You're hiding in a stall when you hear the door to the girls' locker room open and Mina's voice call out, "____, are you in here?"

You don't answer and a moment later the door shuts, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You curl up, pulling your knees to your chest as the tears finally come.

You wish you could just disappear. 

The thought that you need to see him the rest of this school year and the next before he leaves is sickening. 

Your heart has never hurt more than it does now, it feels like a bunch of swords are impaling it over and over again. 

Fourth grade. 

You had liked him since you were in fourth grade, he was in sixth. 

It was the day that you had tripped and spilled your lunch tray all over yourself. 

This angel had appeared, pulling you to your feet with the brightest smile you'd ever seen. He had taken you to get another uniform in the office and even got you another tray of food. 

He only ever said hello in passing after that, but you were infatuated. 

You thought you had loved him. 

Another sob cuts through the silence in the locker room as you realize you don't want it anymore.

You hope you never fall for anyone again. 

Love is just a terrible joke, made to hurt the weakest, the ones that fall for it.

________________

"____?" 

The handsome man standing before you makes your heart lurch.

What kind of joke is this?

You take a step back and clear your throat, "P-P-Park J-Jimin?"

His smile returns as he lets out a small laugh of disbelief, "You remember me?"

You nod reluctantly. 

Jimin looks into your eyes just like he did that one day in elementary school, an angel appearing out of nowhere to save you. 

"But, how?" He asks, clearly bewildered, "After the accident, you never..."

You suddenly realize you're standing there like an idiot, so you open the door wider and gesture for him to come in. 

He walks in and sets the pizza you ordered on your kitchen table. 

"D-Do you have t-t-time to talk?" You ask bravely. 

Jimin nods, "Of course."

You two end up on the couch, an awkward silence falling around you. 

You can't look him in the eyes because every time you do, he's just staring at you like you're the lost puppy he'd been looking for for years. 

"It's been so long," Jimin says quietly, "It's been like six years since we actually spoke."

You nod, "The d-d-day you rejected me." 

When you look up at him he looks heartbroken, so you give him a small smile, "I'm j-just giving you a hard t-t-time."

Jimin nods sadly, "I'm so confused. I just- I thought you had forgotten me after you were in the hospital..."

You say nothing so he continues, "No, you did. You did forget about me, I tried talking to you and-"

"I know," You whisper, "I'm s-s-sorry Jimin, but I lied."

That makes him freeze.

"You and M-Mina were the only two I r-r-really remembered."

It's silent for a minute, then he whispers, hurt, "But why?"

You look back at him, "It h-h-hurt too much to talk to y-you. I'm sorry."

Jimin nods sadly, "Don't apologize, I understand. But, how did you remember me?"

You laugh, embarrassed, "I had k-kind of been in l-l-love with you since elementary s-school."

Jimin's eyes bulge out of his head, "What?"

"Yeah, since w-we met. After you had h-h-helped me clean the mess I made." Jimin looks lost for a minute, then his eyes light up with recognition, "Oh! Oh, really?"

You nod, another laugh slipping out. 

"So, you didn't lose your memory of me...because you still had your memories from elementary school?"

Another nod.

"But then, how did you remember me rejecting you?" The words taste bitter in his mouth.

You shrug, "I don't know, I j-j-just did. A few th-things came b-back to me after leaving the h-hospital."

"I'm sorry that had to be one of them," Jimin whispers. 

"It's o-okay, you had n-no obligation to like me b-back," You take a deep breath, already feeling better after getting that off your chest, "Whatever h-happened to the girl y-y-you had liked? Did you a-ask her out?" 

Jimin nods with a sad smile, "Yeah."

"A-And?"

"We dated until college...then I found out she cheated on me and we broke up."

Your heart breaks at that, "J-Jimin, I'm so-sorry."

"Don't be, it was for the best."

You sit in more silence for a bit, but this time it feels more comfortable. 

Then Jimin speaks up again, "So what are you up to these days, ____? Any special man in your life?" He wiggles his eyebrows at you jokingly. 

You laugh, "I am a k-k-kindergarten t-teacher."

Jimin's eyes light up, "Really? Congratulations, ____. You seriously deserve it."

"Th-Thank you. And w-what about you?"

Jimin sighs and gestures at his outfit, "Clearly I'm not as successful as you," You laugh and shake your head as he continues, "I'm just working this delivery job until I get my foot in the door for some journalist positions."

Your eyes grow wide, "R-Really?"

He nods, "I've always wanted to be a reporter, a journalist, something like that. It's a lot harder than it looks though."

You nod, "W-Well I'm rooting for y-you."

"Thank you," He smiles warmly at you, "You were always the sweetest."

You blush at that and Jimin continues, "You never answered my previous question," He squints at you playfully as he points at you, "Any special guys?"

You're about to shake your head, then Jungkook pops into your brain. 

His dark eyes penetrating your thoughts, his rosebud lips sneaking into your mind. 

Jimin sees you hesitate and a knowing smile grows on his face, "Ah-ha! There is someone!"

You look at him, blushing profusely, "Th-There isn't-"

"Liar!" Jimin cackles, clapping his hands, "You are so in love!"

His words startle you, "I'm n-not! It isn't l-like that."

Jimin wipes at the gleeful tears in his eyes as he leans closer to you, inspecting your face carefully. 

"I know that look, ____. You're smitten."

You splutter, "I-I-I am n-not smitten!"

Jimin smirks at you and you fight the urge to smack him.

Then he glances around your living room, "It's beautiful in here, did you decorate it yourself?"

You nod proudly, glad he's changed the subject. 

You two make small talk for a few more minutes, just catching up on life. 

Then Jimin looks at his watch, "Shit, I gotta go. Bossman will be livid with me for taking so long," He stands up and you follow him to the door. 

"Thanks for having me, ____. It was wonderful to catch up with you."

You smile brightly, "I'm s-s-so glad that we were able to m-meet again."

Jimin gives you one last smile as he walks out the door, but before you can close it, he turns around, "Do you..."

You raise an eyebrow in question. 

"Do you think we could meet up again sometime? Grab a coffee or something?"

You nod happily, "I w-w-would love that."

You end up exchanging numbers before he hurries on his way. 

Closing the door, a huge smile spreads on your face. 

Park Jimin. 

Your first love. 

Delivering a pizza to your door. 

Who would've thought?

After a moment to process, you start to giggle uncontrollably. 

What the heck just happened?

_____________

Jungkook is jogging up the stairs leading to your apartment when a pizza delivery guy comes down at the same time. 

He smiles at Jungkook and moves past him. 

Thinking nothing of it, Jungkook hurries to your door and knocks three times, waiting anxiously. 

The door opens rather quickly like you'd been standing there. 

"Ji- oh..."

Your eyes are wide as you stare at Jungkook.

He gives you a small smile, "Um, hi."

He sees you swallow thickly as you observe him, it takes you a minute to respond.

"H-Hi."

Jungkook bites his lip, not sure how to go about saying what he wants to say next. 

"W-What are y-you doing here?" You beat him to it. 

The way you say it makes his stomach turn a little. 

When he doesn't respond, you sigh and reach up to rub your tired eyes, "J-Jungkook..."

He wishes he could say something, anything. 

But it's like every single word he's ever known is suddenly gone out of his brain and he knows nothing. 

You look so sleepy, the events from the past week are probably weighing on you right now.

Jungkook thinks as his gaze drifts over your exhausted face, his heart pulling apart in his chest as Mina's story comes barreling back into his mind. 

After another beat of silence, Jungkook finally finds his voice and you decide to be honest with him at the same time. 

"____, will you go somewhere with me-"

"J-Jungkook I'm t-tired of th-this-"

You both shut up and look at the other. 

Jungkook's heart sinks in his chest at your words. 

Your own heart feels like someone is poking at it with a sharp stick. 

"What?" Jungkook whispers.

You cover your face with your hands, "I- I j-just..."

"Can I come in? Please?" Jungkook asks hopefully, wanting to correct things before shit hits the fan.

You nod and open the door wider for him to slip inside. 

He immediately notices the pizza box on the table and his mind wanders back to the guy passing him earlier. He lets it go as he stands there, waiting for you to shut the door. 

You do, then you walk over to the couch and plop down, curling your legs up and tucking them near you as you grab a pillow and hold it tightly to your chest. 

Jungkook takes a few very deep and very calming breaths before walking over to the couch to sit down. 

He needs to just keep breathing, or else he'll mess shit up again with his stupidity. 

You fidget quietly as Jungkook stares at the Barbie movies in the glass cabinet under the TV. He doesn't know why he can't seem to look away from them. 

"She just finds comfort in things like coloring, watching movies, eating sweets. Her brain was damaged, badly. But it's gotten so much better since then, she's made so much progress. She might act like a kid sometimes, but she isn't one and doesn’t think she is. ____ was innocent before and she's innocent now-"

Jungkook's breath hitches as he remembers Mina's words. 

"Did y-you speak t-to M-Mina?" 

Jungkook turns to you when you speak up quietly, noticing the way you won't even look at him. Your eyes are locked on the pillow in front of you as you pick at the loose threads. 

"Yeah," He mumbles back. 

You finally raise your eyes to his, "I- I think you sh-should leave."

Jungkook's heart stutters painfully. 

"____, I need to talk to you."

"A-About what?"

"I-..." What does he say? He needs to get you out of here, he's run out of time, "I know this sounds dumb, but would you go somewhere with me? Just for a little bit."

You just stare at him, your eyes reflecting a pain he's never seen in you before, even after he was horrible to you in the rain, even after his dumb ass forced you to go home and ruined your day. 

This pain is a first. 

He shifts his body towards you more, "____, what's going on? Are you oka-"

"No."

He freezes, his mind short-circuiting at your bitter response. 

"No, I'm n-not. I'm n-n-not okay."

You can see the way his eyes flicker back and forth between yours and it makes your heart race. 

You can't handle this. 

You don't like pain, you don't like it. 

You always run from it. 

Maybe you are just a child. 

More reason to put an end to this anyway. 

The insecurities swarming your head finally come out, in an angry huff of air, startling Jungkook when you stand up abruptly, still gripping the pillow. 

"I n-n-need you to leave."

Jungkook stands up too, his tall frame looming over you and making you look down at the ground.

"I can't," He mutters.

Your eyes trail up to his, anger burning in them. 

Why is life so unfair?

Why can't someone just like you, for you? 

Why does reality always have to come and bite you in the butt?

"Go to M-Mina," You seethe. 

Jungkook looks at you like you're crazy, his mind going in circles trying to figure out what the hell you're talking about.

"____, what?"

"You h-h-heard me," You swallow the lump in your throat. 

Curse this stupid stutter. 

You can't even tell someone something and be taken seriously. 

Jungkook shakes his head slowly, his confused gaze locked on your angered one. 

"Why would I want to go to her?"

You scoff, making Jungkook take a step back to observe you in disbelief. 

What happened to you?

Were you really that mad about him asking you for her number? He didn't need it because he liked that brat, he needed it because he needs to save you. 

But you don't know that. 

How could he expect you to?

"Just...get o-out," Your voice is thick with tears. 

Jungkook shakes his head again and takes a step towards you, his hand stretched out. 

But you step back, away from him. 

"Stop h-h-hurting me!" You suddenly raise your voice. It isn't anywhere near a yell but it shocks him enough. You never raise your voice...

"I'm sorry-"

You close your eyes and take a long breath as if to calm yourself down. 

"I kn-know you like M-Mina. Don't m-make me hurt anymore by h-having to let go while y-y-you're standing right in f-front of me!"

Jungkook steps forward and grabs your hand, but you don't open your eyes. 

You dare not look at him. 

Not ever again. 

Or you'll break. 

You love Mina more than anything, you'd do anything for her. 

That's why she was always pushing you away from Jungkook. 

She likes him. 

And of course, he likes her back.

The pain in your heart is causing your breath to shorten. 

If you look at him now, you won't have the strength to give him up for her. 

"____, I swear I don't like her-"

It isn't true.

"I just needed to ask her something!"

Stop trying to spare me the pain, just leave me alone. 

"____, please look at me," Jungkook pleads. 

No. 

You shake your head, keeping your eyes closed tight. 

Jungkook sighs in exasperation, "I had to ask her about your accident!!"

At that, your watery eyes slowly open. 

Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief when he sees your beautiful eyes land on him. 

Then you take your hand out of his and he feels his next breath stutter.

"What?" You whisper. 

The words get caught in his throat for a second before he's able to shove them out, "I had to ask her about Kihyun, and the accident...I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I swear ____, I don't like her like that. Hell, I don't like her at all! Not to mention she hates my guts!"

Your jaw clenches and Jungkook wants to just beg you to listen to him, to please not be mad and just listen to him. 

"I w-was in a c-c-car accident..."

Jungkook does a double-take at your words. 

"What d-d-d-does that have t-to do with you or Kihyun? How is th-that any of your business?!"

Jungkook just stares at you as your face turns red, "I w-want you to leave me alone p-please. Stop playing w-with my h-heart and running out on m-me."

Jungkook feels like he's about to explode. 

With anger, sadness, regret, and this weird protective stuffy feeling he gets when he's around you.

"I'm sorry-"

"And I f-forgave you."

He flinches at that. 

"But an empty a-apology means n-nothing, J-Jungkook."

"It-...It isn't empty. ____, I know I'm stupid, I'm a grade A idiot! A fucking moron! But I never meant to hurt you by running out, I just- I panicked..." He's fumbling over his words, not even understanding what he's trying to say at this moment. 

"W-Why would you g-go behind my back to t-talk about me?! Why not j-just come to me??"

"I didn't think you-"

"Didn't think I r-remembered it?"

Your voice is bitter, laced with hurt. 

Jungkook nods slowly. 

You scoff, "Y-You're right, I d-d-don't. I had to rely on M-Mina to tell me that m-my family died in a c-c-car crash and I w-was the only one that survived."

His chest hurts. 

"Did y-you want to m-make fun of m-me? Figure out exactly w-why I sp-sp-speak like a fr-freak? Why everyone t-t-treats me like a ch-child?"

Jungkook's brows furrow, "Why on earth would you ever think something like that?"

"B-Because I'm n-not like you, J-Jungkook. You c-could get any g-g-girl that you want, but I w-was stupid enough to th-think it would be-...never m-mind."

Jungkook's brain is racing, he has no idea what you're getting at. 

He doesn't understand what the hell girls are thinking or trying to say. 

He knows he's an idiot, he doesn't know how to fix that. 

But he needs to fix this. 

And quickly. 

He steps forward to grab your hands again, but this time you don't pull away, "____, I never meant to make you think I was using you to get to Mina if that's how you feel. I wasn't. I needed Mina to tell me because I was worried about you, I swear," His voice is firm. 

You look at him, unsure. 

Jungkook sighs, "I didn't go to you because I thought that you wouldn't remember, but more so because I didn't want to hurt you further if you did. I didn't want to stir up anything that you'd want to put away. I realize now that that was shitty of me to go behind your back, I should've come to you first, it was your story to tell. I'm sorry."

You blink, taken aback by how honest and sincere he seems right now. 

You'd been hurting from all the running away and ignoring you and all that he's been doing recently. 

This is the first time it feels like he's actually taking you seriously. 

You bring your eyes up to his, "I'm s-s-sorry for lashing o-out. I have f-f-feelings like every-yone else and I w-was hurt."

Jungkook nods, "It's okay, I'm sorry too." His deep brown eyes search yours carefully as you continue, "You c-c-can like Mina, I-I-I underst-stand. She's b-beautiful..."

Jungkook takes you by surprise when he starts to chuckle. You look at him curiously, "W-Why are you l-l-laughing?"

Jungkook gently lets go of your hands, making you miss the warmth of them instantly. 

He brings his hands up to run through his hair, "I can't believe you think I'd fall for Mina."

You scowl, "Why w-wouldn't you?"

Jungkook lets out an amused scoff, "She's not my type."

"Oh, y-yeah? What i-is your type then?" 

He looks at you and you make eye contact for a second before your gaze darts away. Jungkook keeps his eyes on you for a moment longer. 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Jungkook says teasingly, noting that your cheeks turn pink as you shake your head in denial, "I d-d-don't care."

He laughs lightly and you feel your heart lift in your chest. 

A minute passes in silence as the two of you try to think of what to say next.

You're a bit embarrassed about your outburst, but you know he understands. 

You were valid in your feelings and he seems genuinely sorry for everything.

Jungkook's head is in a completely different place, trying to go about how to ask you to leave Seoul with him. 

This is ridiculous, you'll never agree.

You watch as Jungkook's eyes dart around the room as if he's trying to figure something out. 

"Y-You okay?" You ask, a bit worried. 

Jungkook looks up, his eyes finding yours. 

Just do it, Jeon. 

Don't be a wuss.

"Will you leave Seoul with me?"

He blurts it out, figuring he'll chicken out if he doesn't. 

Your eyes widen and you're shocked into silence for a good minute. 

When the initial shock leaves you, you blink a few times. 

Jungkook just stands there stupidly. 

"Um..."

He winces at your hesitation although it was inevitable. 

"...w-why?"

Damn it, he knew you'd ask, you'd be stupid not to. 

He needs to make something up, fast. 

"This- this seems like the worst timing possible... But I was...invited to uhm, to a thing, a thing in uhm, in Busan. It's like uh, a uh, a school reunion? Thing? Kind of? It's uh...."

Fuck he's a bumbling idiot. 

Before he can make a bigger fool out of himself, you burst into laughter. 

His chest feels lighter at the sound.

Well, at least he made you laugh...

You wipe at your eyes as you double over in laughter, a good contrast to what you were doing a little while ago, so he'll take it. 

Jungkook just stands there, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches you make fun of him. 

When you finally catch your breath, you look at him to see him scowling darkly. 

You feel like it would scare anyone else, but it doesn't scare you. 

You poke at his chest, the last of the giggles leaving your lips. 

Jungkook stiffens when you touch him, but he will not let you know that your touch affects him. 

"Are you finished?" He asks, trying to appear unamused. 

You nod, still wiping away the tears of mirth from your eyes. 

"So, w-what you're tr-trying to say is, you want me to go to B-Busan with you for a school r-r-reunion?"

He nods in embarrassment at the silly lie. 

You laugh again, "Well, w-why didn't y-you just say that? I'd l-love to g-g-go with you!"

Well...that was easy. 

Jungkook bites back a smile at the way you shake your head and giggle at him. 

"W-When is it?"

"We'd have to leave tonight...like, you should pack now."

"Oh," You look at him in surprise, "Oh, um. O-Okay...how long w-will we be gone?"

The ridiculous contrast to what was happening a few minutes ago and now is going to give you whiplash. A moment ago you were yelling at him to stop hurting you and now you're agreeing to go to Busan with him... 

What kind of a day was this?

"Uh, I'm not sure, I was hoping to just spend some time there and go sightseeing, maybe?" Jungkook answers your question awkwardly. 

Your warm smile makes him swallow painfully, "I w-would love that. School d-doesn't start for an-another three weeks."

"Perfect," Jungkook nods, "Then it's settled, go pack."

You shriek in excitement and hurry to the back with a little skip to your step, "V-Vacation!"

Jungkook lets out a long breath, his heart skipping a beat at the happy humming floating from your room. 

Thank goodness he was successful in that. 

But what makes him feel even better, is the fact that your beautiful smile is back. 

__________

"Sh-Should I tell Mina?"

Jungkook's grip tenses on the wheel at your words. 

He isn't sure why, but he doesn't want Mina to know where the two of you are going. 

"Nah, I already told her I was going to ask you to come with me. She knows," Jungkook prays that you'll fall for it, biting his lip harshly. 

"Oh," You squeak from the passenger seat. 

He swallows his heart that leapt to his throat at the adorable sound.

You look out the side window, watching as the sun starts to set, your head leaning against the glass. 

"How l-long will it t-t-take us to get there?" You ask quietly, your eyes still glued to the beautiful colors running across the sky. 

Jungkook glances at his phone where the directions are. 

"Mm, since there's hardly any traffic, hopefully four hours?" 

Your eyes widen a little and you make a small sound of acknowledgment. 

"Hm, ok."

Jungkook drags his eyes back to the road, telling himself that he's not allowed to look at you the whole way lest he get distracted and crash the car like a fool.

Jungkook has some soft music playing in the background, making you smile softly to yourself. You didn't think him the type of person to listen to classical instrumental music, but it's nice and relaxing, especially for how tired you are. 

An hour into the drive, you feel your eyes getting extremely heavy. You keep blinking them rapidly to keep yourself awake, but every time you blink it gets harder and harder to open them again. 

Jungkook, as well as he had done the first hour, fails his own rule as he glances at you. 

He had noticed the way you were shifting and jerking around for the past few minutes. 

"Hey, you okay?" Jungkook asks gently before returning his gaze to the road. 

You nod sleepily, a tiny yawn slipping out of you. 

"J-Just a little s-sleepy is all."

A soft smile appears on Jungkook's face and you feel your chest warm at the sight. You can't stop staring at his side profile, the line of his jaw, and his adorably big nose, even his lashes are long and beautiful. 

"You can take a nap you know-"

"Nooo, no no," You wave a hand in the air dismissively, "I'm n-not tired at all!"

Jungkook stifles a laugh at you contradicting yourself within thirty seconds. 

He nods, "Okay, then you don't have to take a nap."

You smile drowsily, appearing almost drunk in a way. 

Jungkook glances at you again. 

Drunk from exhaustion, you most certainly are. 

What a rollercoaster of a day.

He sighs, a gentle sound as he turns back to keep his eyes forward, "You look really sleepy."

"Y-You look really p-pretty..." 

Jungkook, startled at your words, looks at you with wide eyes, "Huh?"

No one has ever called him pretty before...

You have an elbow against the console, your chin in your hand as you gaze up at him dreamily. 

"I'm s-s-sorry I said all th-that mean st-stuff back at my apartment," You whisper, lips turning down into a pout. 

Jungkook fidgets, "It's fine, ____. I deserved to get snapped at."

You shake your head, "Noooo," You say cutely, smacking your lips, "Nooo, you d-deserve th-the whooooooole world!" You gesture out, almost smacking him in the face. 

Jungkook chuckles. 

You're just tired yet you act like you've been drinking nonstop.

"You, J-Jungkook, you d-deserve to a...a? A h-hug."

He feels a pinching in his chest at your words.

"Thanks, ____." 

You nod, your head lolling to the side as you start to drift off to sleep again, then you jerk suddenly as you remember something. 

"M-My first love!"

Jungkook looks at you, bewildered.

"He-...b-brought it to me..."

Jungkook arches an eyebrow at you, "Who brought what to you, ____?"

"An angel brought m-me food t-today!"

Jungkook nods along with your nonsensical rambling, "That's cool," He muses as he passes a car on the highway.

"Yeahh..." 

After that, you fall silent. 

He glances over at you after you haven't spoken for a few minutes, to see your head resting against the seat, your mouth open slightly as you sleep soundly. 

He fights the smile that's creeping its way onto his face, trying as hard as he can to pay attention to the road. 

Jungkook reaches up a hand and slaps it across his face, harder than he had meant to. 

He winces in pain, but at least it got him to think straight. 

Jungkook keeps his eyes on the road (mostly) the rest of the way. 

It's kind of lonely with you sleeping beside him, but he doesn't really mind.

  It's around one in the morning when Jungkook gently shakes your shoulder. 

You stir, your eyes opening into little slits as you look around in confusion. 

"W-Where am I?" You ask, mumbling almost incoherently. 

"We're here, ____. We're in Busan," Jungkook says softly, his hand still on your shoulder. 

Once you're able to open your eyes all the way, you see the inside of Jungkook's car, then you turn your head to the right to see him standing outside your door, holding it open as he smiles at you. 

"Oh," You say in surprise, "I f-forgot we were on v-vacation."

Jungkook chuckles at that, "Come on, ____. Let's get you to bed."

He reaches around you to unbuckle your seat belt, then you watch quietly as he grabs your purse and slings it over his shoulder. 

Next, he grabs your hand and helps you out of the car. 

You take in the sight of a small motel, very simple, very dark, and very very cute. 

Jungkook watches your eyes light up at the place you'll be staying tonight. 

"It's s-so cute," You whisper sleepily. 

Jungkook shrugs, "I've never considered a motel to be cute before, but it's decent."

You keep a hold of his hand as you climb out of the car, then you shyly let go and follow him to the trunk where he pulls out both of your suitcases. 

"I can c-carry something," You offer as you see him start moving with both of the cases to the front of the motel. 

Jungkook shakes his head, his floofy brown hair flopping about, "I'm all good."

You bite back a laugh at the sight of him wheeling two suitcases with a purse slung over his arm, then you hurry to catch up to him. 

Inside, there's a very small old man at the front desk, reading a newspaper. 

He looks up when you and Jungkook walk in. 

A friendly smile graces his features as he sets the paper down, "Hello there, how can I help you?"

"Hi," Jungkook clears his throat, "I called about two rooms earlier today...well, I guess it was technically yesterday..."

The man nods and grabs this little notebook, "Perfect! Name?"

"Uhm...Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook,” He says lowly. 

Ohhhh, Jeon?

Even his last name suits him. 

You see him fidgeting a little as the older man flips through the notebook, "Ah yes! Right here."

Then he turns to grab a key out of a little cabinet, "Your rooms will be one twenty-three and one twenty-two-"

He pauses, his hand freezing over an empty cubby in the cabinet. 

"Uhm...one moment."

He shuffles behind a little curtain leading to a different room. 

Jungkook looks back at you with a puzzled expression and you shrug, you don't have any idea what's going on either. 

A minute later the man comes out with a regretful look on his face. 

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Jeon. It would appear as though someone accidentally gave your rooms away without looking at the reservations," The man looks terribly guilty. 

Jungkook bites his lip, "Uhm, alright, well can I get two other rooms then?"

The man nods quickly and ruffles through his notebook, then he looks at Jungkook again. 

"We only have one room available. I sincerely apologize, this was my mistake-"

"Don't worry about it," Jungkook gives him a tight-lipped smile, "We'll take it. Thank you."

After getting your key, you and Jungkook walk out to find your room, not speaking until you get there. 

Once Jungkook unlocks the door and opens it for you, he gives you an embarrassed smile, "Sorry, ____. I would take us somewhere else but it's late and-...I'll sleep on the floor."

You turn to him, "D-Don't be silly. We'll both sl-sleep on a bed."

He looks at you, bewildered, then his gaze follows your outstretched arm as you point at the bed. 

Or...

The beds. 

AH! A MIRACLE!

Jungkook sighs in relief, letting the door close behind him as he sets your suitcases to the side. 

"Well this isn't so bad," He says as he looks around the room, taking in the twin beds with satisfaction. 

Then he looks at you to see you gazing around in wonder, gently touching the bed and making your way over to the bathroom to peek your head inside. 

When you turn back to him, your eyes are lit up like stars in the night sky. 

"It's b-beautiful!" 

Jungkook does one more look over.

There are twin beds with white covers and pillows, a nightstand between them and  TV on a desk in front along with a coffee machine and glass mugs. 

Meh, it's not a crappy place, he's been in far worse, but he's also been in far better. 

Then something clicks and he looks at you again, "Wait, have you never been to a hotel- or- a motel before?"

You shake your head, your innocent eyes never leaving his. 

Jungkook lets out a short laugh of disbelief, "Huh."

You walk over to your suitcase and grab it, pulling it with you to the bathroom, "I'm g-going to change."

"Uh-huh," Jungkook says, still trying to process the fact that you've never stayed in a place like this before. 

When he hears the bathroom door close, he walks over to his suitcase and opens it up, grabbing out a t-shirt and some pajama shorts. 

He makes quick work of changing, then he settles on the left bed, a groan leaving his lips as he lays back. 

A moment later, the door to the bathroom opens and Jungkook sees you walk out shyly, a simple lilac nightgown draping around your frame. 

He looks away quickly, fixing his gaze on the black screen of the television positioned in front of the twin beds. 

You hurry over and climb into the bed on the right, slipping underneath the covers and sighing happily. 

"Th-These beds are s-so comfy!"

Jungkook hums in response, his eyes still glued to the TV even though it's off.

You pull the covers up to your chin and close your eyes, letting out a tiny yawn. 

At the sound, Jungkook's resolution crumbles and he glances over at you. 

The way your eyelids flutter and your lips part slightly as you breathe makes his heart beat rapidly. 

Suddenly, your eyes pop open and you're staring right back at him.

He was so startled when it happened that he didn't even look away, instead, his gaze stays locked on yours, eyes wide. 

It feels like an eternity passes as the two of you just stare at each other, but it's really only a few seconds. 

Long enough for Jungkook's heart to be in his throat and your tummy to start tickling. 

Then you whisper, "I w-was just going to a-ask you to turn out the l-light."

A choked breath escapes Jungkook as he snaps his gaze away from yours. 

"Oh, yeah sure." 

Without looking at you, he reaches over to the table between your beds and flips the light off. 

It's silent for a little bit, then Jungkook hears you whisper in the darkness, "I'm sorry a-about earlier."

"You already apologized, and I told you there was no need to."

You sigh and shift onto your back, "When is th-the school reunion?"

Jungkook internally groans, "It's in a few days."

"W-Why did we have t-to leave so quickly?"

Jungkook moves to his right side, so he's facing you in the darkness, but he can't make you out. 

"I wanted to be sure we got a place to stay before it all filled up."

"Ah, okay."

Fuck, he hates lying to you so easily. 

The fact that you have full trust in him is making him sick to his stomach. 

But at least he got you here. 

He's gotten you out of Seoul. 

That buys him a bit more time to figure out who the hell placed the hit on you. 

Then he'll take matters into his own hands. 

After a few minutes, Jungkook is sure you've fallen asleep again, so it takes him by surprise when you speak up. 

"What is y-your favorite flower?"

"Uhm, I'm not sure...I don't know that many flowers," Jungkook replies, his eyes still closed. 

You giggle, "My f-favorite is the a-almond flower."

Jungkook nods thoughtfully, then he realizes that you can't see him so he clears his throat, "Ah, what does that one look like?"

"It's little and w-white with a h-hint of pink in the middle. V-Very cute."

Jungkook smiles, "Sounds very fitting for you."

Your cheeks heat up as you cuddle more into the covers, "Do y-you want to know th-the meaning of it?" You whisper. 

He finally opens his eyes, but all he can see is darkness, "Sure."

He suddenly remembers your letter to him after you visited the field of dandelions. 

What did you say the dandelion represented again? Oh yeah, hope and happiness...or something like that...

"It m-means h-hope and renewal."

Jungkook hears you shifting a little to get comfortable. 

"That's nice," He says gently, "I guess the little simple ones tend to represent hope, huh?"

You positively beam, realizing that he must have remembered your letter to him about the dandelion. 

"I g-guess so."

Jungkook turns onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. 

Before he can back out, he asks, "What does the lotus flower represent?"

"Is th-that your f-favorite?"

Jungkook blinks a few times before answering you, "It was my mother's."

You sit up and look over at him curiously, wondering if something had happened to her with the way his voice sounded and the fact that he used past tense. 

"Oh...w-well I happen t-to know that one," You lay back down, "It m-means enlightenment and r-rebirth."

Huh. 

How ironic.

"Ah," Is all he says. 

You lay there in silence for a little bit, then you remember something that you had wanted to tell him. 

"Oh y-yeah, I had the w-weirdest dream the other day."

"Mm? What was it?" 

"I w-was laying in a f-field of flowers. Purple f-flowers-"

Jungkook's brain suddenly snaps to attention at your words, "What did they look like?" He asks abruptly, interrupting you. 

"Uh, they w-were some of m-my favorite flowers, they're c-called Agapanthus."

"Agapi- what?" Jungkook asks, face scrunched in confusion. 

You laugh and blindly reach for your phone on the nightstand. 

Jungkook looks over to see a blue light illuminating your face as you look at your phone and his breath gets caught in his throat. 

Fuck.

Don't be stupid, Jungkook. 

He looks away quickly.

"H-Here," You stand up and waddle over to his bed, plopping yourself down on the side of it and jostling him a bit. Jungkook swallows thickly at the close proximity all of the sudden. 

You hold your phone close to his face, watching as he squints at the picture of the flower you were talking about. 

"A-Agapanthus," You state again, smiling. 

But Jungkook barely hears you, he's frozen, staring at the picture in your hand.

That's the flower that was in his dream the other day. 

The field was full of them. 

"Anyw-way, I w-was lying there. It w-was so vivid. Th-Then I realized I was h-holding someone's hand-"

Jungkook can't tear his eyes away from your phone, his heartbeat increasing the more of your story you tell. 

"I c-could tell it w-was a guy's hand, b-but I couldn't turn my head to see who it was."

His eyes finally drift from your phone up to your face where you're sporting a faint pout. 

He doesn't know what possesses him to ask, all he registers are the shaky words suddenly coming from his mouth, "What's the meaning of this flower?"

Your gaze shifts to his and you smile softly, "L-Love."

__________________________________

a/n: jk is a damned fool, who’s with me.

Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @jaebeomsblackgf @sugaslittlekookies @moon-asia @bangtannie7 @yoonchrisgull @njkbangtan @higashikatasgf @jksbbyfacebunny @sweetonkookieandtae @voidswan-recs @sadxaries @bts-junseagull @jinfused @taehyungiev13 @gaeguuliii @kimnamjoonluvbot @jungkooook @mutterseelenalleinn @surilirani @patpus @yukiehyukie @crypticsabbat @ohyeahjk @steffiiirose @the-falling-star @telepathytae @erenkook ​ 

#jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook angst #bts reactions #bts angst #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #kim taehyung #park jimin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #bts smut #hitman!jk

[solarwonux]

69.  “So, you want to what?”

87.  “That guy was checking you out. Should we tell him to join us later?”

camboy!wonwoo x camgirl!reader

w.c: 1.5k

genre: angst, suggestive 

warnings: suggestive language, talks of a possible threesome, hint at fwb

note: so I know this is not what you probably had in mind, but I’m also thinking about making this into a full on fic and didn’t want to give all the good stuff away lol. I hope you like it though. lmk your thoughts please, thank you <3

Masterlist || Prompts

“So you want to what?” 

Wonwoo smirks. Your fork in between your fingers hanging by a thread as you blink rapidly, trying to wrap your head around Wonwoo’s words. He sat there smugly, arms crossed, tongue poking his cheek, amused that he had finally caught you off guard.

 Pay back was a bitch and although he knew he was going to pay for his consequences soon he was going to indulge in this moment. 

“What do you say?” He rests his elbow on top of the table, eyeing you through the top of his round glasses. “I for one think it’s the greatest idea I’ve ever had.” He shrugs, his cockiness spewing out behind every single word that leaves his mouth. 

He was fucking insane. 

You shake your head. An attempt to regain your calm and collected self. “I thought we already agreed on what we’ll be doing.” You place your fork down on top of the quilted paper napkin. Appetite gone. Well not entirely gone, you were starting to crave other things, things that wouldn’t be appropriate to share out in public. 

Every Wednesday night at ten on the dot. You and Wonwoo would go live. Just something the two of you did as friends to gain a little extra cash in order to get through graduate school debt free. It started out as something innocent, never getting entirely naked, never touching one another. Simply getting off together in front of the camera. It was fun, it didn’t mean anything, it still didn’t mean anything. But things had escalated after gaining a bit of a following. Instead of getting off to one another and remaining still somewhat clothed. Dirty words, heated touches and desperate kisses were shared. 

The money was good. Almost too good to let go. So you kept doing it and with the added bonus that no one knew who the two of you were, except your close friends - you had accidentally spilled the beans to them one drunken night at a baby shower - no one knew. Your identities were kept a secret, never showing more than your lips so you kept going. 

At some point it became mundane. It wasn’t something you wanted to do anymore, more like something you needed to do. The two of you were close to finishing your degrees, all you needed to do was to hold it out for a little while. But Wonwoo had noticed that you started faking your orgasms, getting off on camera for random teenagers or grown ass married men, wasn’t doing it for you anymore. That’s why you were here, at the diner a couple of blocks from his place. To discuss possible ideas, a new direction if you will. He cared about you and because the two of you were quite literally in it together, he wanted to know what you wanted. What you needed to help you get to that sweet high the two of you enjoyed so much.

“Well you see...that guy over there was checking you out.” He pauses and discreetly points to the bar. You raise an eyebrow at him and turn your head to the side. Your eyes meet two pretty brown eyes behind the colorful bar. He stops cleaning the counter top, smirks, throws the rag over his shoulder, pushes himself away from the bar and walks towards a family of four that were arguing over blueberry and chocolate chip pancakes. 

You scoff and look at Wonwoo, a smug smile still painted across his face. “Soonyoung?” You ask in disbelief. Soonyoung was the cute worker that worked every Tuesday and Thursday at the diner. And one of the TA’s in the music department, he too was trying to get through graduate school debt free. Or so you were told by his coworker and the cute doe-eyed girl Wonwoo had a huge crush on. Which is why you had made it your meeting place in the first place. 

It was perfect. You talk to Wonwoo about possibly pegging him - he still hasn’t caved - while ogling over the waiter behind the bar. While also trying to be Wonwoo’s wingwoman. A fool proof plan, that had really gotten the two of you nowhere. Well maybe until now. 

Wonwoo waves a hand in front of you brushing you off.  “Yeah whatever but, should we ask him to join us later? A little birdie told me he gets off in thirty minutes.” He clicks his tongue and sits back again, crossing his arms in front of him. 

He was enjoying this way too much. 

You were slightly shaking, your pussy throbbing as you pictured the way Soonyoung’s hands would feel all over your body, while he and Wonwoo took turns touching your most intimate parts for an audience of strangers to see. In hindsight, it was a great idea, probably the best one Wonwoo has ever had, but the most you had ever said to Soonyoung was your order for M&M pancakes at two in the morning one Wednesday - Thursday -  after the show. 

He was covering for someone that night and you were extra sensitive and needy. You still remember the way his eyes lit up when the front door bell rang signaling your arrival. Eyes shifting into cute little half moons, as Wonwoo guided you towards your usual booth. Wonwoo had done most of the talking, figured out his work and school schedule as well as scoring his phone number and a promise to hang out soon. 

You on the other hand were terrified to even look up, responding in one worded answers when Wonwoo tried to include you into the conversation. But you wouldn’t budge, too busy wallowing in the soreness between your legs and the gnawing nerves erupting in the pit of your stomach. 

You groaned and pushed the plate of half eaten chicken tenders away from you. “I don’t know Wonwoo, what we do isn’t entirely socially acceptable. It took our friends an entire week to come around to the idea of us selling our bodies online. Soonyoung is cute, I like him but what if telling him ruins my chances with him.” You sigh running your fingers through your messy hair. 

This is another reason why you weren’t entirely in it anymore. After realizing that most guys weren’t too big on the whole fucking your best friend on camera for money thing, you cut off the possibility of ever dating until your final show. It was the main reason why you confided in Wonwoo about your crush on Soonyoung, why you cried in his arms as the exhaustion took over your body. 

It was ending soon. Just one more semester. Four more months. And you’d finally be able to live a life you wanted and without fear. “He doesn’t care. I mean he knows that I do it. I never told him that you also join me but he doesn’t care. Thinks it’s cool, so I figured he was our best bet.” Wonwoo puts a hand over your closed fist and holds it reassuringly. “We don’t have to tell him if you don’t want to but I want you to feel comfortable again, just until we finally end this once and for all.” He says sadly. 

Wonwoo enjoyed camming more than you did. Reveled in the idea that he was in the position all your viewers wanted to be in. But he too was getting bored. He wanted a future and he didn’t see one in camming. He was the one that had gotten upset at you when you first spoke to him about possibly ending once the two of you graduated. But the more he thought it over and took into consideration all your reasons, he agreed. 

Soonyoung’s co-worker was someone he had had feelings for since his undergraduate. They were friends but he hated that he had to hide this huge part of his life from her. So he figured once everything was done, he’d finally ask her out like he had been meaning to for years. 

“Are you sure?” You lift your head and rest your chin on top of his as he nods. You close your eyes, count to ten before opening them again. “Fine, we can talk to him, but I want to be the one to tell him and everything we plan on doing or usually do. I want to make sure he’s comfortable with everything before asking him to join our show next week. “

“Sounds like a plan.” Wonwoo extends his free hand out to you. You roll your eyes and give him a firm shake. A wordless agreement or contract. “Now chin up princess he gets off in five minutes and I told him I wanted to talk to him before you got here earlier.” He takes his hand back, a familiar mischievous glint burning brightly behind his eyes. 

“Sometimes I hate how calculated and organized you are.” You grab one of your fries from your forgotten plate and throw it in his direction. He dodges it, rolls his eyes and throws one back at you, hitting you square in the face. 

“Hey! If it wasn’t for me you’d be drowning in college debt. So you’re welcome.” 

“Shut up don’t remind me.”

#kpopscape #kdiarynet #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen hoshi #seventeen soonyoung #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo smut #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo fanfiction #wonwoo x reader #Hoshi scenarios #hoshi x reader #hoshi imagines #hoshi fanfic #hoshi smut #hoshi fluff

[littlemisslipbalm]

“you get me” (famous!y/n x harry)

Famous!y/n x Harry Styles

First Harry fic so please be kind, but feedback is SUPER appreciated

Initially inspired by the picture of Harry leaving the Gucci store with 15 bags but barely has anything to do with that lol

Definitely thought of Ellen for the interview idk why tho - also I struggle with writing Harry’s dialogue because I really want to get it right, but hopefully the more practice I get, the better/more natural it will sound. ALSO i have like no music or music industry background lol. Somewhat proofread, but its 2:30 am so it could be shit

Fluff!

Warnings: maybe some angst over being famous per say, past loneliness

Word Count: 3.7k literally howwww, i’m going to do a pt. 2 though because it was kind of a long set up and feelingsssss

---

Interviewer: Please, welcome our next guest, a woman who’s sure to have her name written up beside the music greats someday, Ms. Y/N L/N!

You can’t contain the grin that spreads to your face as you carry yourself out onto the stage and see the audience cheering for you. It was your third big interview since your first album had been released and you’d seen your fame skyrocket over night. This being the third one this week meant you’d gotten comfortable getting asked questions, but you also weren’t bored of it yet. It was exhilarating being the center of attention, especially for something that had been your life’s work up until this point. You always had to fight for whatever you got and the recognition you were starting to have was reassurance that you hadn’t been a fool to risk a safe and certain life for your dreams.

The interview begins as the rest had, a few pleasantries, how you were feeling, and then the introduction of the album. The host asked you what your inspiration was for some of the songs and the album name and cover. You loved to talk about the music, it was the whole reason you were there. The meaning, the sound, the name, it all meant so much to you and you talked about how music can be interpreted differently by everyone and even the shifts in someone’s mood can change a song’s meaning, but what it meant to you at the time of writing was always something specific. You practiced those answers in the mirror before the interviews because they were important to you and you didn’t want your words on your art to ever be misconstrued. The host then complimented your style and you were at the point where you thought your interview should be wrapping up when they asked you one more question, and it threw you for a loop.

Interviewer: So Y/N, we’ve been hearing some rumblings around, about you and another famous musician, Mr. Harry Styles. Anything going on there?

Your face heated up, you hadn’t been expecting a personal question about possible relationships. Nothing like this had been asked of you at your previous interviews. It’s about the music, the art, and who you were, it’s always about that and nothing more. To be honest, you were a bit annoyed the host had chosen to stray from those topics. You didn’t care for the celebrity side of being a famous musician, the lack of privacy, the prying eyes of media and the general public. They saw enough of you through your art, you bore your soul through music why did they want to peak into your heart as well?

Y/N: I don’t know if I’d rather be with Harry Styles or actually be Harry Styles. Like, he’s literally such an icon, I want to be able to walk out of a Gucci store after spending hours there with 15 bags full of my purchases and helpers to carry it all out c’mon… He’s also an amazing songwriter, musician, and performer, of course. Didn’t mean to sound superficial, but I’d also love to own even half of his closet.

You hadn’t really answered the question, but the audience laughed and the host obviously got the hint that you weren’t interested in fanning any flames of romance with Harry Styles or anyone else. For one, you didn’t even know the man, but you had always been a loving fan of his. You cited him as one of your role models when you were first starting to try and break into the music world. Second, if you did know him, that wouldn’t be an appropriate topic for your album press junket going on, even if it meant more publicity because of Harry’s big celebrity status. The host decided to qualify their original question with a final sentiment.

Interviewer: I totally feel the same way! I only ask because the outpouring of support you’ve received seems to be from similar groups who also follow Harry. Many have been comparing your sound to his solo career work.

Y/N: Ah...well that’s very kind of people to say. He’s definitely a big inspiration, his creativity and drive is incredible. I’d love to be as successful as him someday.

The interview ended. You and the host shook hands and you waved and sent kisses to the crowd before retreating backstage. You were exhausted, but happy. You hoped to avoid anymore stressful interview questions that didn’t truly revolve around music. Of course, life is never that simple.

-

One month later

You had done countless more interviews and talk shows as promo for your album and the buzz around it had continued to grow. Your fame continued to rise as well and that one question you had dodged at your third interview had come back around to bite you, naturally. Daily Mail’s dumb headline read: “Y/N can’t decide! Date Harry Styles or Steal His Closet?” The Sun was also running with your response and miscontruing it completely, something about how you were madly in love with Harry but jealous of his designer partnerships, you couldn’t even stomach reading the garbage. This was your worst nightmare. Not only was it taking away the focus from your album, but you were also sure this dumb gossip had reached the very set of ears that the gossip was allegedly also about.

You had signed with Columbia Records for your first album, the same record label as Harry Styles, so managers had been in contact with one another about the whole fiasco trying to get the actual truth - which was that the two of you didn’t even know each other and there were no problems whatsoever. Your manager also brought along the good news that Harry had actually listened to your album and loved it, “He said ‘Congratulations’ by the way, loved the sound. Said he’d heard you were very music focused and be open to do some mentoring on songwriting and vocal specifics, if you wanted. It’d have to be in private though, obviously.” She had added the last bit, but you understood why. To have the opportunity to discuss your music with one of your longtime role models, heroes even, was beyond anything you could have imagined coming from your album’s success. And it made the drama all the more palatable because now you at least got to talk to Harry like the media was so adamantly saying you were doing already.

You nodded quickly and agreed, while trying to keep your teenage fangirl excitement hidden below your mature now-famous musician facade. Like you said, Harry was your hero, he’d been your hero since you were in middle school and had Up All Night downloaded on your iPod touch, blasting it as loud as possible, sound hitting your poster-filled walls. You weren’t the same girl as you were then, obviously, you had grown up to be a strong, independent, and confident woman. But, you still smiled at the thought of your younger self with your baby face squealing in the nosebleeds at the Take Me Home Tour (where you swore Harry had looked straight at you) and her seeing you now, dressed in a sleek outfit setting up an appointment to meet with Harry to discuss your first album, a success.

-

The next Thursday evening

You took a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your pursed lips. You were anxious and excited at the exact same time. Your meeting with Harry was tonight, right now actually, and you hadn’t been able to think about much else since your manager had confirmed the meeting last week. She got you the details a couple of days ago, the location: his house in Malibu, the time: 5:45 P.M. You had brought along a copy of your album on vinyl because you thought it sounded best this way, second only to performing it live.

Choosing your outfit for tonight was probably the toughest decision you’d ever made, harder than choosing between an education and following your dreams, harder than choosing your favorite Beatles song. You didn’t want to worry so much, this wasn’t a date you kept reminding yourself, but everything you tried on earlier kept having something wrong with it, too dressy, too boring, too ‘not yourself’. You had settled for these blue high-waisted pants that you’d worn to your first ever podcast interview, a thin black long sleeve, and a brown leather coat that fell below your hips with vans sneakers, casual, simple, yet still true to you and your vibe.

You raised your free arm and formed a fist, hesitant to knock, as if you’d damage Harry’s seemingly perfect Malibu beachfront home by knocking too hard on the wooden front door. You waited a few moments and could here some shuffling behind the door, some incoherent words were seemingly said, but the walls muffled them before they could reach for ears. Soon enough, Harry Styles in the flesh was before you. He beamed down at you, huffing, slightly out of breath as if he had been clear across the house when you knocked. His strong figure towered above your far smaller stature. He was hanging onto the door since he had opened it only slightly. “Hello, Y/N?” he greeted and questioned simultaneously. “Hi,” you responded and extended the same hand that had just rapped against his now open door. He gripped it, ushering you into his home, “Come in, come in, it’s nice to meet you, don’t want you to catch a cold now do we?” He took note of your strong handshake and ring clad fingers.

He walked you into an area between the kitchen and a sitting area. The kitchen was open aside from a bar high top between the two rooms. You sat down at his prompting and made yourself comfortable. “I brought my record on vinyl, sounds best in my opinion, otherwise I’d recommend seeing it live,” you laughed as you handed the vinyl to him and took off your coat. “Technically, y’know, I could hear it live right now, if you were willin’ f’course,” Harry had responded over his shoulder as he placed the vinyl by his idle record player, “Anything to drink?” “Just water for me, please.” His accent was even stronger in person, especially since he had moved back to London and seldomly stayed in California, except for business and quick trips. As far as you knew, he had already been here on business for the week and was able to pencil you in.

You two settled in, with your waters, seated at the bar top beside each other, but swivelling the chairs to face one another more. Again, you were overwhelmed with the reality of the situation, sitting beside Harry Styles as professionals, peers even. He had heard your work and liked it enough to want to discuss it with you. It was a day you never thought would come to pass. He started off not by asking about the music right away, but about how you were doing with the whirlwind that stardom is. “How are you, Y/N? It’s been somewhat of a out of the frying pan into the fire kind of moment for you?” He stared at you intently, caring to hear your answer.

You couldn’t help but chuckle again and contain your smile, “Thank you for asking, Harry. Yeah, its been definitely stressful, but it’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more so the good is still outweighing any bad. Definitely, fucking exhausted though, dunno how many more interviews I can do before my jaw goes completely rigid from talking so much.” It’s Harry’s turn to laugh, his eyes shone with intrigue at what you said and how you said it. You were gorgeous, but it was how your hands helped you through what you were trying to say and the small laughs you tried to keep in while you amused yourself with your words that really made him want to hear you talk all night long.

He agreed about how the promo junket for an album can get tedious and tiresome, but also the absolute fulfillment you get from people loving the music you’ve made. The two of you chatted about surface level personal matters for a little more, but quickly moved to the music. “I took a listen a couple weeks after the album was released. I especially loved the last track. It reminded me so much of a song I never released, actually…” he trailed off.

Your final track had been a ballad, an homage to George Harrison with your use of guitar and sitar, but the lyrics were a story based off of a poem you had written one night in high school. It surrounded a girl never feeling quite good enough for the person she wanted to be with and how it happened everytime, everytime she was ready to giver herself to someone, they were always closed off. Of course it held some truth to your own life and feelings, but you wrote this girl as someone with a seemingly perfect life - when yours was obviously far from any semblance of perfection.

You wondered what Harry’s song would have sounded like, had it been about a seemingly perfect girl or a guy with a seemingly perfect life, always giving himself to the wrong person and getting destroyed by that very fact because he was impatient as the girl in your song had been. “Can I ask, how so? How’d it remind you of your own song, the words or the music?” “Oh, the story, I felt like that for a time in my life and I like to be vulnerable in my songs because it helps me process, but listening to it back has always been too painful. Could never release that or perform it, it’d wreck me.” You nodded, you completely got where he was coming from. You noticed his downcast eyes and his somber tone, you knew not to push it any further.

It was quiet and you decided it’d be okay to take his hand resting between the two of you. “Harry, I understand,” your sincerity spilled into the words, filling the quiet house, “It’s not easy. Feeling that way. Thinking you’re the only goddamn one and why the fuck does it always happen to you? I used to ask my ceiling ‘why me?’ every night of high school” you smiled then. “But you know how it is,” you rubbed your thumb over his large warm hand and he lifted his head, “it gets so much better - c’mon look at us now! It can get hard, too, all this, I’m sure. But our lives? They’re amazing!” He beamed as he had when he had first seen you at his door and when you’d first really spoke. He moved his hand from under your palm to weave your fingers with his, both of your hands with covered in rings and they clinked to fit together, finally resting perfectly fitted. He shook your two hands up and down, “God, you’re so right! That damn song, m’sorry always puts me in a mood,” he shakes his head, “not yours though, f’course, s’lovely, better than my sodding song” he finishes quickly.

After that, the mood lightened right back up. It filled you with such appreciation for Harry that he would trust you so much with such a personal detail since you two had just met. But maybe, he had trusted you because he had felt that same spark between you. It wasn’t necessarily a romantic spark, but it was obvious the two of you were kindred spirits. Besides your album, the two of you talked about everything. You loved the same bands, movies and books, you both loved to cook and had similar fashion taste, you even had the same person type - something you found out late into the night.

At the end of the Side B of your album, Harry switched to a Bill Evans record that had ‘Peace Piece’ on it. You loved that song. So did he. “So...planning to raid my closet?” Harry raised his brows from the record player and walked back to you. You almost sputtered the water in your mouth. Luckily, you got it down. “Pardon?” “All that bad press the two of us have been getting...I watched the interview that kind of ignited the tabloids. You’re obviously not used to those overstepping personal questions.” You nodded. “It’s fine, even if you’d completely shut it down, the tabloids probably would have picked it up still, they snap up anything and everything, true or not.” You softened at his reassurance. You hadn’t expected Harry to bring the interview up, but you were sure he wasn’t happy about it, he was so private, especially about his love life. “Thanks, I’m sorry I tried to laugh it off, kind of made it worse, didn’t I?” “No! Thought it was hilarious and I totally appreciated the sentiment. Little ol’me, an icon? And an amazing artist? All I gotta do is watch that clip and I’ve fed my narcissistic side for the week!” You giggled and replied slyly, “So does that mean I can raid your closet? As compensation, of course.” Harry threw his head back in an all consuming laughter, when he’d composed himself he looked in your eyes again and said, “You just...God, you get me.”

Harry had continued to put records on throughout the night, diligently flipping sides and asking for requests, he of course had an extensive collection. The two of you had moved onto his plush couch that looked out his french doors to the beautiful ocean view. Finally, your exhaustion caught up to you, mid-Harry describing his latest travel fiasco, you glanced up at the clock. You gasped. Harry stopped. “When did it get to be half 12?” you questioned almost incredulously, “I’ve gotta get home, Harry, but this has been truly amazing, more than I could have asked for, so thank you.” Your speech began to rush as you started to get up and gather your things, that had slowly scattered as you’d gotten more comfortable, jacket by the table, shoes around the back of the couch, your phone forgotten somewhere in the couch. You couldn’t believe you’d spent almost seven hours just talking with Harry Styles.

Harry quickly stood up from his relaxed positioned on the couch and asked if you were alright to drive this late. You scoffed, “Oh please, I’ve driven around at 3 am before, I just have to turn up the music and I can cruise.” He smiled, “This was great, Y/N, I know we didn’t really go super in depth into your writing process, but I’d love to write with you sometime or just hang out again f’course. Your seriously talented and obviously a wonderful person.” He didn’t include that he felt like he’d never met anyone like you, never met someone so perfectly matched to himself, in passions but also in work ethic and demeanor - compassionate yet confident. He felt like you got him perfectly and he got you. You had stopped your scramble to gather yourself and now you were both smiling at one another.

This had really been an unforgettable night, you couldn’t believe how well you two had meshed, like childhood friends reconnecting after years apart. “Can I give yeh a hug before you go?” Harry’s voice had grown raspier as the night had progressed. He had grown rather tired an hour ago, but had pushed through because they had been having so much fun and you hadn’t noticed his physical fading or the time, obviously. You stepped toward him and his large tattooed arms enveloped you into his body. His body truly dwarfed yours now as he held you to his chest. You both were warm and soft. He tucked his head on top of yours that rested on his chest. Your arms were loosely resting where his back met his waist because you would have had to strain to get them to encircle him. His arms rested around your small frame. “Love your jacket,” he mumbled into your hair. His rough voice was quiet, but the house was silent otherwise, Tusk Side C had finished around when you had noticed the time. The embrace lasted long, but it felt so amazing you had a hard time pulling yourself away, but you had to get back home.

“G’night Harry” you said softly at the threshold of his home. He had insisted on walking you to the front door at least, since you had declined his offer to walk you out to your car on the street. “G’night. Safe travels.”

You got in your car and headed to your apartment in the city. You didn’t bother digging for your phone so you turned on the radio and drove home singing whatever came on, including your own song at one point. The whole time you drove with a grin. Harry was the nicest person you’d ever met and you were confident that the two of you were friends now. As you pulled into your parking garage it dawned on you why you hadn’t connected your phone immediately when you got in your car. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you put the car in park and rested your palms in the depressions of your eyesockets, over your closed eyelids, and rubbed hard. “Fuck!” It was far too late to drive back out to Malibu for your phone and you obviously couldn’t text Harry that you’d left your phone at his place, despite the two of you exchanging numbers during the night for future hang outs, so they didn’t have to be arranged through your managers, like playdates. Even if he found your phone between the cushions, he couldn’t drop it at your place in the morning because he didn’t know your address. This was a whole mess, you thought. You’d have to drive over in the morning and hope he was still there or email your manager from your computer. The former meant you got to see Harry sooner and likely your phone, too.

part 2

-

@berrynarrybanana​

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #har #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fic #I DID IT #I sat down and wrote it #and it took forever #and I need to write a second part but I made something coherent #one direction fanfiction #not my gifs #my writing #I love you h #you get me #my writings

[mjsparkour]

Okay, I asked you a while back for some fic recs and I am in need of more. Have you read any Gina x Ricky lately? Would love for you to share the ones you've loved

Hey!

I’m so glad you liked my rec the last time, there have been alot of fics that have been written since you last asked so this list was super hard to limit. There are alot in this list alone (17 overall I think). I could always recommend more, Rina writers are just so talented. So here's a list of some of my favorites <3

The Story of Us by peculiarblue

‘gina learns that sometimes things have to fall apart so that they can fall back together, right where they were always meant to be’ This is a complete 2 part chapter fic

Thee Rina bible. It’s everything we could ever want and need. Everything we want s2 to be and more. It’s an absolute masterpiece in every way. So many parts where I nearly died, the angst in the fight scene, the tension before they made up (the dress scene that reminded me so much of that amylaurie scene I lost my mind a little more), them being absolutely gone for each other!!! it’s just perfect in every way.

When Your With Me and Were Alone by orphan account

‘Ricky Bowen remembers everything.’ This is a one-shot three-part completed series.

My favorite series, it’s gotta be. It’s the first of its kind for rina fics. Lore does an incredible job of realistically writing rina’s characterization and reactions to Gina moving and what would happen after. A wonderfully talented writer, utilizing the power of her words while minimalist carries an effect. 

You Know Me Better by This_is_Riri

‘Gina was moving. This would be her sixth move in seven years. She was used to it by now...only this time, it felt different. Post episode 7.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

This one really gets you at your gut. Heart-wrenching for both characters but mainly gina. The vents that happen to both characters, it just makes sense that so much more than their vunerabilities bonds them together. Perfect execution of the mutual understanding trope. 

and I know I’ve kissed you before by ptrprkrs

‘but I didn’t do it right / can i try again, try again, try again? or: 5 times ricky kisses gina + 1 time she kisses back’ This is a complete one-shot.

I love a good five times plus one fic. This one is heartwarming, cheeky and cute. It gives a healthy balance of the inevitable anguish that comes with pining (and not just for the character but for frustrated readers that just wanna put these kids together already) but also the sweet innocence and fluff from first love (or first love adjacent). 

what love might have done by rradioh

‘Ricky follows his gut. Everything changes. Some things stay the same.’ This is a completed one shot.

A good look into what could've been for season one. Reflecting moments that felt like they could’ve easily been placed in the show and showed the subtly of the growth of rinas relationship. It wasn’t something that was thrown into our faces but came gradually and this fic facilitates that growth with key moments that add to that. A Great one-shot.

And the 7th Thing I Hate The Most That You Do (You Make Me Love You) by iknowpIaces

‘It doesn’t help that he really does look good in his costume. God, she hates him. She hates him. She hates him. Then, he has the nerve to smile at her. And Gina hates how that smile alone sends her over the moon.’ This is a completed one shot.

SOOOO GOOD. No one understands, I love the trope where one person has a crush on the other and it's unrequited (or it seems that way) but eventually it's apparent that they're also just as gone for that person as soon as they start moving on, or feeling fine with having their feelings not reciprocated. Then they're both just mutual pining messes, ugh I love it. This fic handles the trope with care and rina just comes together organically. 

lesson in love by finelineholland

“Give me 4 weeks. I’ll help you out. Like… a crash course, if you will. 'How to be the perfect boyfriend for Nini Salazar-Roberts': A class taught by yours truly.” This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

A rom-com in the form of a fic. It’s so true to Ricky and Gina as characters and their dynamic. The writing is really good and gives so much in terms of plot. I really hope it updates soon because I love a good makeover/transformation fic, it gives she’s all that and geek charming in the best ways.  

take me to the feeling by peculiarblue

‘gina meets a stranger at a party she doesn't want to be at, and let's herself fall in love for the night, wherever it takes them’ This is a completed one shot.

Katie does it again. Another classic that makes us fall for rina while they fall for each other under the stars. You can’t help but feel something for them right off the bat because theirs something about the cheekiness of the dynamic and so real. You can’t help but fall for them, a must read.

The Last Time by mytearsricochet

‘this is the one where gina meets ricky and nothing is against them. except for a few misunderstandings, forgotten birthdays, wrong people, and missed opportunities. because as much as love doesn’t care about time, this is the one where time cares about love. and with time, everything falls into place.’ This is a completed one shot.

SO UNBELIAVBLEY UNDERRATED. This fic is too excellent, it's everything rinas could want. it’s an incredibly well done long slowburn that makes you strap in for the ride. With all those teasing moments where they're mutually pining and they're just on the precipice of finding out their feelings for one another only to hold back and stay friends (until the end of course). The end makes you work for it, but so worth it when you get to it. 

10 Days in “Love” by kindredspiritsxo 

‘It was almost the end of high school and nobody had it figured out. Especially Ricky Bowen. His parents had recently divorced, he had no idea what he's doing for college, his longtime girlfriend dumped him the month before and now he's been replaced by one of the most popular guys in school.

To make matters worse, he leaves for Europe in two days for his senior trip. The same senior trip that said ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend were going on. So, Ricky did what any desperate teenage boy would do to try and get his girlfriend back: he devised a plan. A plan that included the help of Gina Porter and playing pretend for 10 days.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

I love a good traveling fic. Sometimes all it takes to get a character to wake up about things going on in their lives or feelings for character b is a good change of scenery. This fic does a great job of utilizing the enviornment to facilitate rinas love story through one of my favorite tropes, the fake dating trope. There's some angst along the way because nothing can ever come easy but it's not without its reward. It gives me major spiderman far from home vibes just solely because of petermjs adorableness and how that energy kinda translates to rina in this fic more so in the beginning before they have this repertoire. 

on the line by peculiarblue

‘with everything in her life finally at a stand still for once the last thing gina needs is one curly haired skater to come in and give her a reason to change again

(or, gina lets ricky back into her life the only way she knows how, at a distance, through daily voicemails, until her heart remembers why she can't love him anymore.)’ This is a completed one shot.

It hurts in the best way possible! that is the best way to describe this fic. Were taken on a journey where I personally wanted rina to just talk to each other in person but the magic was all in the voicemails and the power of their connection. There was a satisfying ending, I couldn't ask for more. If you haven’t read literally everything written by Katie go read it, it won't disappoint.

but everywhere just brings me back to you by ptrprkrs

‘or, ricky is just a little in love with the voice of the girl at the starbucks drive-thru’ This is a completed one shot.

An amazing fic that hits every spot effortlessly, even the ones you didn’t know you had. Like Ricky being a lovesick puppy going to a drive-thru just to hear Gina’s voice for coffee, he doesn’t drink or like. All the while they’d been connected all along. I’m a sucker for any kind of soulmate implications or stories where people are unknowingly connected like that so this ones a real favorite for me. It’s sweet, lighthearted and funny and a great read.

About Love by goldenthread

‘a series of Interconnected one shots and canonical aus for Ricky and Gina <3.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

Here's where I enter some shameless self-promo...I wrote this recently. It’s just some loosely connected one-shots I have of rina based on canon. I write about an alternate first meeting, what would've happened if Gina had to understudy Nini in a rehearsal and (for a future chapter) a babysitting au (for what happened when Gina actually told Ricky the truth, she was babysitting her neighbor's kid when she talked to him at the skatepark). Check it out if it sounds like your thing!

in your eyes by finelineholland

‘you always try to hide the pain, you always know just what to say. i always look the other way. i'm blind, i'm blind. in you eyes, you lie, but i don't let it define you.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

There is something about Rina being written about from an outside perspective that is just so excellent. The story starting with Nini noting the obvious chemistry and their connection and being threatened by it, I don’t know it's just so pleasing to me. Another fic like that one of my favorites (one that I’m pretty sure I’ve suggested in my other rec list), pretend i don��t see it in your eyes by spobylol. Another absolutely excellent read that does not miss once. This story in contrast also writes from rina’s perspective as well which I also thought was well done. 

right from the start I knew by anonymous

‘“Uh.” Ricky really didn’t think this far ahead. To be fair, it’s not like he’s ever thought ahead about anything ever in his life, so this is really to be expected. “We - forget about it? Maybe. Or like - I don’t know. I think I have to figure out how to be like - a person right now. By myself.”

“Same.” Gina says absently. “I’ve spent what feels like my whole life thinking about what other people think of me. It’d be nice to - to be able to try looking beyond that for a change.”

Post-Season 1. Ricky and Nini break up, but that doesn't mean things work out right away.’ This is a completed one shot.

The most iconic love confession I’ve read in a rina fic to date. it’s just so good, a certified rush every single time. The mutual pining hits spectacularly especially when you see just how soon it starts to hit Ricky that he’d made a mistake getting with Nini and him paying for that mistake. The writing only amplifies it. Also Ricky telling Gina he’s obsessed with her? yeah, I automatically added this fic to my list of faves.

If they only knew by goldenthread

‘Ricky Bowen never really bought into the whole soulmate thing (except he did) but life got in the way and now he's sort of pretending to date new (totally not intimidating) girl Gina Porter to win back the one and only Nini Salazar Roberts. Not a single thing could go wrong.

or

The one where Ricky and Gina aren't so good at the whole soulmate thing and they fake date.’ This is an incomplete multichapter fic.

More shameless self promo, sorry y’all but I’m super proud of this one. It’s a soulmate and fake dating au, combining two of my fave tropes into one to make this (surprisingly) long fic. It’s a whirlwind of emotions and a lot of moving parts in the story. I plan on updating within two months then after that there's three more chapters until its finished :) hope y’all enjoy it if you decide to give it a read!

you are the best thing & the worst thing (that’s happened to me this whole year) by tophsgf

‘Gina's roommate Nini is unbearable. What's more unbearable, however? Her very charismatic and totally off-limits sort-of boyfriend.’ This is a completed one shot. 

An amazing fic, I need more people to know about it! I really like fics where the development between Ricky and Gina is gradual, which seems to be the case for a lot of fics but for this one in particular I like its execution. Obviously, at first, he’s with Nini so it’s like the dynamic is at a point of comparison from the start but we quickly learn that thanks to good ole mutual understanding and overall compatibility Ricky and Gina are just right for each other. A fun read that hits all the bases.

#rina #ricky x gina #ricky bowen #gina porter #hsm #hsmtmts #high school musical #high school musical the musical the series #nini salazar roberts #rini #rina fanfic #rina fanfiction #rina fics #gina x ricky #disneyplus #disney

[eyeofthedrgn]

A Heavy Battle Symphony Chapter 8

Catch up here >> AHBS Masterlist

TW: language, mental abuse, verbal abuse, physical abuse, violence, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, self harm, self-esteem issues, sexual abuse (only alluded to briefly in future chapters), drinking (comes up late in the story) just a lot of trauma, angst, smut - lots of lovely gay smut

Word count: 1739

Notes: This chapter is slightly graphic on the physical abuse. It's only like two lines, but I wanted to make it known.

Chapter 8 - Sorry for Now

After a while you may forget

But just in case the memories cross your mind

You couldn't know this when I left

Under the fire of your angry eyes

I never wanted to say goodbye

Four months, thirteen days, and ten hours, not that he was counting, since he left. Since the dark haired boy had walked away, leaving Rowan standing on the sidewalk. Since his mind spiraled out of control, and it felt like part of him died.

Rowan had been seeing a therapist for the last three months. It had helped, somewhat. At least he could function as a relatively normal human being again, when he was around people anyway. Most of the time. He almost didn't graduate. Thankfully, his mom, his friend group, and his therapist had helped him get through it.

But all in all, Rowan felt empty. Somehow his heart was broken. He hadn't realized someone could get so attached to someone so fast even though they never really talked or hung out. Maybe it was because they shared such vulnerabilities with each other that day in the park or there really was such a thing as a soulmate and his just left him. Either way, he was broken inside. Yet, he still went to parties with his friends, hung out, but he wasn't always present. Everyone noticed the vacant stares, but they usually left it alone. They all knew the general gist of what happened that day, but they could never understand the emotional gravity well that that day had caused. No one knew that Rowan had fallen for the other boy.

Except the ever observant Elide. She noticed everything. The way Rowan spoke about Lorcan, the way his eyes lit up when he saw the other boy walking down the hall, and the small looks they both shared on cast signing day.

But nobody had seen Lorcan after he had walked away. He never came back to school. No one knew what to think. Most assumed they moved again and they left it at that. Rowan assumed the worst after seeing Lorcan's bruises and him basically saying this was a usual occurrence.

Rowan was brought back to the present when a beach ball hit him in the head. He was sitting on the edge of Aelin's pool, sulking, feet dangling in the water. Aelin was throwing one of her parties, it was nearly the end of summer and soon most of them would head off to college. The noises from his friends finally filtering back into his head, it was suddenly too loud, too bright, and too hot. He ran a hand down his face.

Fenrys had been the beach ball throwing culprit, Rowan just glared at him.

"Come on, Ro. Try and have some fun?" Fen had swam over to Rowan and crossed his arms over the edge of the pool. The roguish blond just wanted him to be happy.

“I’m sorry.” He said that a lot now. Fenrys just raised an eyebrow at the boy… man.

He was eighteen now and he wasn't that scrawny, nerdy looking boy anymore. Rowan supposed that was one good thing that came out of Lorcan leaving, he got addicted to working out. There was a punching bag set up in the garage with some weights. He was fit now, muscles defined, but not bulky.

Elide walked up and mussed up his hair. "Come help me get some drinks." She didn't leave any room for argument.

In the kitchen, Elide just leaned forward on the island and looked at Rowan.

"I thought we were getting drinks."

"Yeah, we will. But-"

"But what?" He really didn't mean to say that with such an attitude, but he was hot and emotionally exhausted. Honestly, he just wanted to go home.

Elide was on her phone, waiting for him to chill. Taking a deep breath he said, "I'm sorry. What did you want to talk about?" Rowan was trying, he really was. She just slid her phone over the counter towards him. He furrowed his brows as he looked at the article on the screen.

Consultants for Erawan Enterprises arrested on counts of fraud, child abuse, human trafficking, and other illicit activities

"What's this?" He had no idea what this was about. Why would he care about Erawan Enterprises?

He picked up the phone and kept reading since Elide clearly wasn’t going to answer. It was short and there was a photo of a devastatingly beautiful woman with dark as night hair, that reminded him of Lorcan, and alabaster skin in handcuffs being pushed into a cop car and a very angry man shoved against the hood of the same car.

Maeve Valgerian and James Perrington were arrested Wednesday night. After some anonymous tips to the Morath Police.

"Who are these people?" Rowan didn't understand.

"Pretty sure she's Lorcan's aunt."

Oh.

Rowan had searched for Lorcan online after he disappeared, but there was literally nothing. Absolutely zero results. It was like he was a ghost.

They were consultants for Erawan Enterprises and moved all over the world for the very powerful man. Erawan Enterprises is under investigation for fraud, money laundering, and human trafficking.

After Valgerian and Perrington were arrested, MPD searched their residence and found incriminating evidence against them.

There was also a teenager held captive in the basement. They were taken to the nearest hospital with severely critical injuries. The name and gender of this individual will not be released for their safety.

The article was published nearly two months ago.

Human trafficking…

Held captive...

Severely critical injuries...

"Please, don't break my phone." He was squeezing the device and didn't realize it. Quickly handing it back to her, his hand went straight to his hair.

“Are you sure this is his aunt?”

“Well, not 100%, but they have physical similarities and their hair…” she trailed off. “And Lorcan had mentioned his aunt’s boyfriend living with them one day in class.”

"Fuck!" He felt like he wanted to rip his hair out.

"Ro." Elide's voice was quiet.

"FUCK!"

After a couple deep breaths, he ran his hands down his face, and then turned to face his friend. "Is he dead?" His voice cracked.

"I don't know. All of the other articles I could find are just about them and Erawan Enterprises. No mentions of Lorcan. Anywhere. It's like he doesn't exist."

Elide pulled him into a hug and he broke.

---

Lorcan had been through shit show after shit show since he left the Whitethorn house. As soon as he returned to the apartment, it was packed up into a moving van and they were gone.

They were in Fenharrow for a couple months. Maeve didn't enroll him in school. He was locked in the basement of the small house they rented, it felt like he had gone crazy. He hadn't seen the sun until they moved again. His skin turned a sickly gray. By the time they moved again, he could feel every one of his ribs, and his hips stuck out, his fingers overlapping when wrapped around his wrist.

Next move was to Morath. Lorcan didn't know if he would survive. He didn’t have a good feeling about this place. The basement became his home yet again. It was filthy. There were thick iron hooks in opposite walls and chains hanging from them. This was where he was going to die. He closed his eyes as Perrington latched the shackles around his wrists.

---

One day, Lorcan heard sirens intermittently. He kept passing out. He wasn't even sure he was hearing sirens or if it was just a ringing in his ears. They were always ringing nowadays. A punch to his face made his vision flicker. Blood and saliva leaked from his mouth as his head rolled down to his chest.

The ringing in his ears got louder. There definitely weren't sirens. No one was going to save him. He was going to die here. He knew it. It was what he deserved. The bastard born half-breed that no one cared about, left to die in his own filth in a disgusting basement. The world slowly faded to black.

---

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

He was in Hel. He had to be.

Beep.

The incessant beeping was there to drive him insane. And the smell of bleach was there to make him sick.

Beep.

---

Lorcan startled awake. How could he be awake? He was supposed to be dead. Right?

The nightmare he was having felt so real. Probably because he had lived it before. He assumed that was just what Hel was supposed to be, reliving the worst parts of your life.

But instead, he was in a bed, a hospital bed. Why did they save him? Lorcan wasn't worth saving. Yet, here he was covered in wires, tubes, a needle stuck in his hand, a device on his finger. It was dark outside and the lights were dim in the room.

Deciding he wasn’t actually dead, he took stock of his body, he was certain he had some broken ribs, but nothing else seemed to be broken which was surprising. He was definitely sore and stiff. And exhausted. So exhausted.

---

After… Lorcan didn't know how long he was discharged. He had put on some weight, though not a lot. The staff made sure he ate. They were all nice and cared for him. But now, he stood outside the main entrance of the hospital in some scrubs they gave him. Now, he had nothing. Nobody. He may as well have been lost at sea.

Why had they saved him? He still couldn’t figure that out.

Somehow, he managed to find the small house that he had been stuck in for who knows how long. There was police tape over the door. The door was open.

He pushed through the tape. The house was a mess. It seemed the cops had ransacked the place. But he finally found his things, they were strewn about the floor. Thank Hellas, his journal was still there. After changing, he packed up his books and journal, some clothes, and a few other other necessities.

He needed money or something he could sell. Maeve's jewelry would help. He could pawn it.

Lorcan asked the pawnshop owner for directions to the bus station, and then he set out to see if there was still one person who cared about him. Hopefully this wasn’t a bad idea.

____

Thanks for reading. Things will get better, I promise! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

Edit- oops! I forgot to actually put in tags... My bad. Sorry!

@thenerdandfandoms @starlightorstarfire

#rowcan #rowan x lorcan #rowan whitethorn #rowcan fanfic #lorcan salvaterre #linkin park #heavy battle symphony #crackship #throne of glass

[possiamo-andare]

Midsummer pt.3: JJ Maybank

JJ x Reader

MASTERLIST

Words: around 6.4 k

a/n: so part one of Midsummer just passed 1,000 notes and to celebrate I'm posting part 3. Thanks to everyone who was telling me to make this a series, I guess it officially is. I kinda wanted a little more angst in this chapter but I'm a hopeless romantic and wanted to end it on a good note. Happy reading!

~

You had gotten up considerably late according to your father. It was 10am, early for you on a summer morning but late for your father who never slept past 6am. It wasn't entirely your fault though. JJ had kept you up all night on the phone. You hadn't seen each other in two days and it had been torture. He was apparently busy with John B., Kiara, and Pope, doing some type of "research" (whatever that meant), that he couldn't make time to meet up. So, you were forced to talk over the phone. You tried to reach out to Sarah but she too was extremely busy. You wondered what the hell was going on. The two most important people in your life were busy. You asked yourself, what were the odds?

So, with nothing to do on a beautiful morning, you went down to the beach, where you thought you could relax. You had just purchased a new book and decided what better way to get started than to read it while you soaked up some sun. 

As you walked out your door, your backpack on your shoulders, you called to your parents, telling them that you were off. They both gave you an uninterested bye and with that, you started towards the beach. It would definitely be desolate at this time, which worked out in your favour. You were only wearing a bikini top and small blue jean shorts. You, of course, had a shirt in your bag but you had planned on getting some sun. The only problem was you were self conscious. You had hoped that if there weren't as many people around, maybe you would feel comfortable enough to close your eyes. Maybe.

You knew that it was completely irrational to think this way. To think that maybe if there were less people around to look at you, you'd be more confident but you couldn't help it. Ever since you could remember there was this unconscious voice in your head, turning anything positive into a negative thing. If you had gotten a new dress, there would be some part of you pointing out that your arms were fat. You didn't bother voicing your opinions to your parents because you were their daughter, and they would love you no matter what. 

You did voice your troubles to Sarah and she insisted that there was nothing wrong with you. She told you that everyone is beautiful in their own way. And although that might be true, it was hard for you to believe her. You felt like she didn't understand. You didn't know if anyone did. So many celebrities preach about self esteem and self love, but they're celebrities with thousands of people cheering them on while you were just a teenager that had maybe two close friends at the most. 

You did see the good in yourself, but you sometimes could only focus on the bad.

As you got closer and closer to the pier, you pulled out your phone to shut it off. You just wanted some peace and quiet to yourself. You had been thinking way too much about JJ the past few days. He was literally taking up your entire life. Constantly, you wondered what he was doing and if he was thinking about you. You were getting scared. You were liking JJ way too fast. You weren't even official yet and you already thought about what your lives would be like five years from now. You had to get a grip. JJ was a boy. A teenage boy, to be more specific. And you doubted if he even thought about you twice. Teenage boys, from your limited experience of Rafe, rarely thought about their future with a girl and mostly cared about when they would get laid. 

Although you desperately believed JJ was different, and in some ways he was, you didn't want to get ahead of yourself. 

Just as you were deciding to forget about JJ, you see him. He had just exited out of a wagon, that looked like John B.'s car, and was carrying his backpack, seemingly unaware that you're 10 feet away from him. 

You're confused, to say the least. He had said he was very busy "researching" something. And now, he was at the beach.

"JJ?" You call out to him, literally almost right behind him now.

He whips his head around and watches you approach him, eyes wide. Now you know he's been lying to you. He's so surprised to see you hear, you can hear him gasp. "Y/N?"

You furrow your brows. "Uh, yeah. What are you doing here?"

JJ acts cool, trying to play off the fact that he is not only surprised to see you, but also that he has lied to you as well. "Nothing much. You?"

You put. "I'm just going to the beach. I thought you said you were doing research with John B., Pope and Kiara?"

JJ shrugs, giving off his pompous smirk. This time, you notice a little bit of worry though. "We stopped. I wanted to take a break." JJ looks to the wagon again, almost as if he's checking to make sure no one is coming out.

Then it clicks. He doesn't want you here. He's scared to be seen with you. He doesn't want his friends to know he's with a Kook. Why else would he lie to you and check to make sure no one sees you together. You wanna cry. He's ashamed to be with you.

"Are you -" you choke up, tears welling in your eyes. You promise you won't let him see you cry. "Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?"

JJ looks back to you, frowning. "What? No."

You roll your eyes. "You clearly are lying to me about research, and now you're obviously checking to see if John B., Pope or Kiara can see you talking to me. What's going on?"

JJ grabs for your hand but you pull away. You're not gonna fall for it a second time. He was so pervasive in the janitors closet, you had been a fool to believe him. But now, you would know longer be a fool. 

"You gotta leave." He said, nodding to the direction opposite of the beach. "I'll explain everything later."

You scoff. He can't be serious. "Are you fuckin' with me?" You shake your head, rubbing your temples. How could you be so stupid? Of course he fools you. It'sJJ Maybank. The guy who has broken so many hearts. You were probably just gonna be another notch under his belt. 

"You're that embarrassed? God, I should be embarrassed. I'm the one who likes you." You spit back, trying to hurt him as much as he is hurting you.

You can tell you have hurt him. Just by the way he steps back, almost as if you've actually hit him. He looks to the ground, sighs, and then looks to you. "I'll explain everything later. You have to leave."

You shake your head. Unbelievable. You're too stubborn. So, instead, you push past him and race to the wagon, where you know everyone is. JJ tries to catch up to you but you're faster than him. You're not wearing heels anymore. 

In one swift motion, you slide open one side of the door, revealing four bodies huddled in one area instead of the three you thought there would be. Sarah is the extra person. You want to act surprised but deep down you knew she was blowing you off to hang out with her new friends. It was more than a coincidence that Sarah and JJ were busy on the same day.

They all had their backs turned towards you until you spoke. "Sarah?" Although you wanted your voice to come out strong, you could hear the hurt in it. 

You didn't care if Sarah wanted to hang out with John B. and his friends but she didn't have to lie to you. Now you suspected something even worse. You thought that maybe it wasn't because you were a Kook that JJ was embarrassed of you, maybe it was just you. JJ hung out with Sarah and she was a Kook and he seemed to have no problem. Maybe him and Sarah were just both too embarrassed to be seen with you in front of their Pogue friends. This realization made you want to cry. But you held it together. If this was the truth, then you would only cry in the comfort of your own home. You wouldn't give them the satisfaction to see you cry.

That little voice in your head was laughing at you.

Once they hear you, they all jump and cover whatever they are doing and turn to see you. They are all acting super suspicious and you're wondering what the hell is under the thing they just covered. It looked like a pot to you but what could they be melting?

Sarah is the first one to speak. "Y/N? What are you doing here?"

You decide to lie. If JJ was too embarrassed to be seen with you, then you wouldn't want to embarrass him further by telling everyone about you two. "I was looking for you."

You feel JJ behind you, out of breath. Before Sarah speaks, he does. "Sorry guys, she's faster than she looks."

You pretend he hasn't spoken and instead continue to look to Sarah. "If you didn't want to hang out with me, you could've just said so."

Sarah frowns, clearly confused. "What? No, that's not it."

Before Sarah can continue to speak, Kiara steps in. "Sarah don't."

You glare at Kiara. You honestly thought she liked you and now, she seemed like she could care less. "Stop what?"

Sarah looked to John B. and he sighed before looking at you. "We should tell her now."

You were beyond confused. Tell you what?

Sarah nodded. "She won't tell a soul. Right Y/N?"

You nodded, still frowning. What the hell was going on. Tell you what? Trust you with what? None of them were making sense.

JJ spoke up this time. "No, if she knows, she's a target too."

You look at JJ, glaring at him. No one is speaking and you know it's because they can't believe JJ cares about something that doesn't involve him. You're a little surprised too but you're still upset so you don't show how surprised you are. "Don't look out for me. I wanna know."

JJ glares at you, almost upset that you want to make a decision for yourself. You glare right back and move farther away from him. You can't stand to be beside him. You still feel like such an idiot. 

John B. nods to Sarah and then Sarah looks at you. She's giving you a polite smile, as if she's about to give you some life changing news. Finally, when she speaks, it's barely over a whisper. "We found the Royal Merchant."

You furrow your brow. You have obviously heard of the Royal Merchant and the 400 million dollars in gold that was hidden somewhere in OBX, but it had been almost 2 centuries and still, it had never been found. Historians spent their entire professional careers trying to locate the Royal Merchant while five teenagers found it themselves. This didn't make any sense to you and you could tell that everyone knew you would never more convincing. So, Kiara steps forward and takes the cover off of the pot, where numerous bars of gold are being melted; unsuccessfully may you add. 

You're in complete shock. "What the hell?"

John B. finds your reaction humorous. "Yeah right?"

You looked to John B. "How the hell did you find it?"

John B. chuckled. "Long story. I'll tell you later."

Finally, for the first time since you arrived, Pope spoke up. "But right now, we need to find a way to melt the gold."

He seemed to be very shy around you and you knew why. Rafe had beaten the shit out of him recently and you were the person to break it up. You told Rafe to basically fuck off and you tried to help Pope by getting him an ice pack, but he left before you got the chance. These were just one of the many arguments you had with Rafe before eventually breaking things off. Although you knew Pope was grateful, you had a connection to that day. Although you would never do this, Pope was embarrassed you might tell someone what had happened. Only JJ and you really knew what had gone down that day and it was better, for the sake of Pope's pride, that no one else knew. You weren't surprised that Topper's boat had sunk only hours after the attack. You knew Pope had something to do with it and you were happy he fought back. Then, JJ had gotten arrested for it and you knew he covered for Pope. It didn't seem right only JJ was the one getting in trouble and not Rafe and Topper as well but you knew that it was because they're Kooks.

You smiled at Pope, trying to let him know that he didn't have to tread so lightly around you. He instantly looked away though, not getting the point you were trying to make. Then, you had an epiphany.

"My dad has a torch you could use."

They all look at you, smiling softly. You smile back, ignoring the stupid smirk JJ has on his lips. 

Kiara is the first one to speak. "You're just about the smartest person here."

You laugh, your insecurities quieting down for a moment. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe Sarah wasn't embarrassed by you but genuinely couldn't tell you what was going on. You believed that but wasn't so ready to forgive JJ who had, for the second time, made it clear he was embarrassed by you.

John B. spoke then, looking at Sarah. "Well, I think we should listen to Y/N. Let's go get that torch."

~

Your dad wasn't much of a handyman. A few summers ago, he had bought over a hundred dollars worth of tools and equipment just in case there was something broken, he could help fix it. He was proven to be no help though because the man could barely hold a wrench properly, let alone fix the air conditioning in your house. Most of the tools went to waste or were stored in his garage, where you had actually used a couple in the years since he bought it. 

Your dad was always trying to find new hobbies and things to do to keep himself busy, especially in the summer time where he wasn't working as much. That summer, he had bought tools but this summer, he was working on his garden. That's why he had hired JJ to mow his lawn. He couldn't figure out how to work the lawn mower and hired someone to do it for him. Most days this summer he spent outside in the backyard, planting flowers and vegetables. Your mom was there with him. She was either reading a book or bossing him around and you kinda found it funny that a woman who would never be caught dead in the dirt, was bossing someone around like that.

Today was no exception. As John B. parked in front of your house, you could already see from your backyard that your dad was digging up new soil to plant something else while your mom was telling him how to do it. 

Unfortunately this wasn't going to be an easy situation. You had to get a large torch from the garage and past your parents. You wondered if it could fit in your backpack but you didn't have time to worry about that. You needed to think of an excuse as to why you were home so early and why you needed to go into the garage.

JJ got out of the car and slid the door open for you. JJ was staring at you but you made no effort to look at him. The drive to your house was torture. You tried to ignore him as you talked to everyone about the torch and how to melt the gold but you could feel JJ's eyes burn into the back of your head. You refused to be the first one to speak to him though. 

You got out of the car, not bothering to say anything to JJ as you did. You looked to John B., who had his window on the drivers side rolled down. 

He was smiling at you. "You got this?"

You shrugged. "Can't be too hard."

John B. nodded, glancing at JJ who was still looking at you before looking at Sarah. He had a bemused smile on your face and so did Sarah, telling you that they were catching on pretty quick. You knew if JJ didn't cut out the stares soon, everyone would know. For a guy who didn't want anyone to know you had a thing, he was making it pretty obvious.

You were about to walk away but were stopped by JJ speaking up. "I'll go with you."

You glared at him, a scowl on your lips. "What?"

Everyone was quiet, even you. Except JJ. He couldn't keep his mouth shut

"You might need help." What the hell was he doing?

You shook your head quickly, the scowl still on your lips. "I'm getting a torch from a garage, not smuggling drugs. Besides, what are you gonna do? Point your gun at my parents?" 

You could hear Pope snickering. You glanced at him and he was the only one out of everyone that had a smile one his face. This was so out of character for JJ, everyone except Pope seemed surprised.

JJ frowned at you, clearly offended you brought the gun thing up. "Whatever. Just go."

You gave him a fake smile. "Yeah, thanks." Sarcasm was coursing through every word you spoke.

Finally, you walked away, pushing the thought of JJ's behaviour from your mind. The closer you got to your house, the more you wracked your brain with a sufficient lie to tell your parents. You couldn't think of anything. You hope that in the moment, your brain would think of something.

When you entered your backyard, your mom was the first to see you enter. She immediately stopped bossing your father around and instead smiled at you. 

"Hey honey. I thought you were at the beach?"

You smiled at her, your nerves making you feel nauseous. "Yeah, I had to grab something."

Your dad looked up at you as you approached him. You stopped to save at him and he waved back. "What is it?"

You had to come up with something and now. Finally, your mind clicked. "They're doing a sandcastle contest on the beach today and I don't have a small shovel to use. Thought I'd go to the garage and get one."

You braced yourself for all of the questions and interrogation but you didn't get that. Your parents just smiled at you and nodded, clearly not being able to care less. You then quickly made your way to the garage past your dad before they had the chance to process your lie anymore. You feared if they thought too much about it, they would ask questions you couldn't answer. 

When you entered the garage, you finally realized how much time had passed since anyone had used anything inside. There was dust covering just about every tool inside this room, making your chest feel heavy. You wasted no time, ignoring the heavy feeling in your chest because of all the dust. You remembered JJ's allergy to dust and smiled at the thought of him having to clean the lawn mower before using it. 

You frowned. Again, you were thinking of him. You had to stop. He was most definitely not doing this. Why did your brain want to relate everything you were doing to JJ? You knew the answer but refused to acknowledge it. It wasn't a place nor time to.

As you looked through the third shelf, you finally found the torch. It was dusty and dirty but with one flick of the switch, you could tell it still worked. It was pretty huge but you opened your backpack and were glad to realize it fit in there perfectly. You praised whatever type of creator there was looking out for you and discreetly exited the garage, pretending like nothing happened.

You seriously underestimated your parents ability to care. They were again, back to their antics when you exited the garage. They didn't even bother saying goodbye, too busy with the garden. You quietly said bye though, hoping that they at least heard you. It was so hard sometimes. You felt like they could care less. 

Once you approached the wagon, John B. was the first person to see you. JJ was sitting in the car, his back turned to you as he spoke to Pope. You could tell he was purposely ignoring you. You admitted that it hurt but you were doing the same to him so you couldn't exactly be mad. Besides, he deserved it.

"You got it?" John B. asked, watching as you unzipped your bag and showed him the torch. 

You smiled. "Yep."

Everyone cheered, except JJ. He just stared at you, softly smiling as you handed the torch to Kiara. You closed the door behind you and sat down next to Kiara and she flipped the switch on and held it underneath the pot. Everyone surrounded you guys and watched the gold melted this time, way faster than before. When you all noticed it was working, you cheered. This time JJ joined in and hugged Pope.

"We're gonna be rich!" He yelled with joy as he hugged John B. 

You tried to smile but you couldn't help it. You wanted to go to him and embrace him. You were missing him so much and he was only two feet away. You knew you couldn't though. You were supposed to be mad at him. He was embarrassed to be with you. You should be offended. And you were. But that didn't mean everything you felt for him was forgotten. You didn't think it ever would be.

"What do we do now?" You asked, smiling at Sarah who reached for your hand. 

Kiara leaned on your shoulder, wrapping her arm around your body. She glanced at Sarah and smiled. You knew that had made up. Finally, you guys could all be friends again. 

Then, Kiara spoke. "We have to sell it."

~

The cash for gold shop hadn't exactly been your first choice when Kiara said you would have to sell it. You didn't know much about selling gold (actually you knew nothing) but selling it at a sketchy cash for gold shop was definitely not the best idea. But it was the only one you guys had. Besides, in the worst case scenario, they wouldn't buy the gold from you. Then, you'd just have to be more creative. Seemed simple enough.

"Great work by the way Kie," JJ sarcastically said as you all exited John B.'s wagon. "I could've done better."

You scoffed and were about to tell him off but Kiara did it first. "Really? How?"

"I took a woodshop class." JJ said proudly, glancing at you. You showed no emotion.

Kiara scoffed, an annoyed look on his face. "Oh really? When? When?"

Before JJ could respond, John B. told them to shut up and handed JJ the gold. It was now melted into a ridged circle and although it wasn't the ideal shape, it was the best Kiara could do.

"Why do I get chosen for this?" JJ asked, playing with the gold in his hands.

You were quick to reply. "Because you're the best at lying."

Everyone looked at you, surprised. JJ was surprised the most, widening his eyes at you before looking away and storming off to the entrance of the cash for gold shop. You all followed behind him but you were the last to enter. You had never been in a place like this and wasn't exactly sure how to act. Kiara helped you though. He grabbed a hold of your arm and dragged you away from the register where JJ was and instead pulled you to a section where gold jewelry was being sold. You could hear JJ speak to the lady at the register but you pretended you didn't and even looked away from them.

As you browsed the jewelry section with Kiara, you looked to Sarah, who was flipping through some clothing with John B. She was smiling and snickering at something he was saying and you couldn't help but smile. No boy ever made Sarah act like that and you were beyond happy for her. At least John B. wasn't afraid to be with her.

Kiara spoke as she shifted through the jewelry, focusing your attention back on her. "What's up with JJ?"

You pretended to act dumb. "I don't know."

Kiara glanced at JJ, then looked back to you. "He's not been himself since the Midsummer party. You were there, right?"

You nonchalantly nodded at her, praying to god you didn't seem suspicious. "Uh, yeah. But I never really spoke to him."

"Really?" Kiara said, surprised. "I saw you dance with him."

You panicked. You did not want to tell Kiara something that obviously meant nothing to JJ. He didn't want to tell everyone for a reason. "Yeah, but it was like for two seconds."

Kiara nodded, clearly smirking at you. "Ah, okay. I just thought that maybe you two had a thing going on."

You looked at Kiara, eyes wide. "What? Why?"

Kiara shrugged, looking at you now. "I don't know. JJ rarely treads lightly around girls and that's exactly what he's doing. Just thought that maybe you had a thing and he messed it up."

You frowned, almost embarrassed about how transparent you both have been about the situation. "Why do you think he would mess it up?"

Kiara shrugged. "Sometimes JJ is an idiot."

You nod, looking down at the jewelry for a second before looking back at Kiara who's smirking at you. She knows the truth and you know there's no more hiding it. "He is."

Kiara chuckled. "So you guys are a thing?"

You shrugged. "I have no idea. One second he wants me and the next second I feel like he's embarrassed to be seen with me."

Kiara nods as you speak, smiling sweetly at you. Then, when you're done, she offers you some advice. "I don't wanna take any sides but have you ever thought of it the other way around?"

You furrow your brow, confused. "What do you mean?" 

You glance at JJ, who is now shaking hands with the lady at the register and making his way to John B. You watch them high five before they start walking to the door. JJ passes you as you and Kiara continue to stand there, waiting for them to exit first. JJ glances at you and gives you a half hearted smile. Your heart picks up pace and you feel the butterflies in your stomach. You can't help but give him the same smile back.

When you look back to Kiara, she's smiling. She obviously just saw that moment between you two. "Maybe, he's embarrassed that you have to be seen with him."

And, for the first time today, you realize you've made a huge mistake.

~

You thought that this was a terrible idea. The lady at the register told JJ she didn't have enough money in cash to give to him right now but if they drove to an isolated area in OBX, then they could collect the money from her safe. You had voiced how stupid this was, and Sarah and Kiara were willing to agree but JJ insisted that there was nothing to worry about.

For the first fifteen minutes, JJ seemed to be right. Other than deserted farms and fields, there seemed to be no life on this side of town. And with no life, there meant no danger. So, you tried to have faith in JJ as you both drove closer to where the lady said the destination was. 

But, before you guys could make it, you heard police sirens. A car with lights was signalling for you to pull over. You cursed aloud.

"What the fuck?" JJ cursed, looking behind you and clutching the knapsack where the gold was.

"JJ," Kiara said, her eyes widening. "You didn't bring the gun right?"

JJ said nothing as Pope and him hid the bag underneath JJ's seat. He was ignoring you as he argued with Pipe on how to hide the gold. John B. was pulling over slowly and also yelling at JJ to hide the gold. 

When he didn't answer you, you spoke up. "JJ! Did you bring the fucking gun?"

JJ's head flew up and looked at you. When he finally hid the knapsack properly, he spoke to you. "No! Of course not. Everyone told me not to bring it."

You sighed, relieved. If you got in trouble with the cops because JJ brought a gun along, you knew your parents would kill you. 

As the figure approached the car, you all looked down and stayed silent. John B. had his window rolled down and was about to speak but before he could, you heard him gasp.

You all instantly looked up. A man with a mask covering half his face pointed a gun at John B. The barrel was right in John B.'s face and you could hear Sarah let out a sob. 

"Get out of the car!" The man ordered, moving your side of the car and sliding the door opened. 

When he locked eyes with you, he pointed the gun at you. You instantly raised your hands in the air. Before he could yell any orders, JJ stepped in front of you, blocking you from the gun. The man got upset and dragged JJ to the ground before pointing the gun back at you.

"JJ!" You screamed, wanting to reach out for him but you knew you couldn't.

"Go lie face down over there!" The man yelled, pointing the gun at Kiara now. 

JJ slowly got up and walked to the ground where the man pointed and laid flat against his stomach. Then, you followed after JJ, doing the same. As you lay beside him, he reached for your hand. You let him grab it but you refused to look at him. Then, Sarah law beside you. Then, Kiara and Pope. Finally, John B. was the last to lay down. When you were all on the ground, the man started to ransack John B.'s wagon. You knew what he was looking for. That lady had tipped off this guy and thought of a better and free way to get the gold. JJ caught on about the same time as you did because you then heard him smack the ground with his other hand and groan.

"JJ..." You whispered, squeezing his hand. This time you had to look at him and when you did, you could see the angry tears in his eyes.

He shook his head at you. "That lady must've tipped him off."

You nodded, scooting closer to him. You wanted to comfort him and tell him it wasn't his fault but you couldn't speak. Instead, you leaned forward and you brushed your lips against his. When you pulled away, JJ was already leaning back in to kiss you again. Everyone had their heads down so they didn't notice this moment but you felt instantly calmer. You looked at him and gave him a soft smile. He nodded and then looked away from you and to the man again.

You decided to look as well and when you saw what he had in his hand, your stomach dropped. He found the gold. He then put it in his big cargo pocket and pointed the gun at each of them.

"Don't any of you move until I'm gone."

As you looked at everyone on the ground, you saw a discrepancy. John B. was no longer there with all of you, laying on his stomach. You were incredibly confused. Where the hell was he? You looked back to JJ and he had the same confused look at his face.

The man made his way back to the car and sat down in the driver's seat. Before he could turn the car back on, John B. came up from the back seat and started choking and punching the guy. You gasped and wanted to look to JJ but he was already up and helping John B. over power the guy with a gun. 

"JJ!" You screamed, scared that he was gonna get himself hurt. You knew he needed help though and you were more than willing to help.

Kiara was the second person to get up from the floor. She joined in on the fighting and soon you all followed after her, kicking and punching the guy who had a gun to each of your heads only moments ago. 

Finally, when you all decided he had enough, you back away. JJ did the honours of removing his mask so that you could see his face. You didn't recognize him but he looked familiar. Apparently JJ did recognize him though.

"He's a drug dealer." 

Then it clicked. He was Rafe's drug dealer. "He sold Rafe drugs." You said aloud. 

The guy looked to you, clutching his side in pain but still smiling. "Your Rafe's girl? He told me about you and how bitchy you are."

Before you could defend yourself, JJ was already doing so by punching the guy once again. You gasped loudly and so did everyone else. Everyone looked to you, almost as if asking why the hell JJ was acting so weird but you couldn't give them a good explanation. It was getting harder and harder to deny your relationship with JJ, especially if he was acting this defensive whenever someone disrespected you.

"Shut up!" JJ yelled at the guy, storming away from him. You knew he was trying his best to control himself.

"JJ," you softly said, following him. He was walking farther and farther away from everyone and it was hard to keep up. When he finally leaned against John B.'s wagon, you spoke again. "It's okay."

JJ put his head in his hands and sighed. You pulled his hands away from his face and made him look at you. When he did, you saw the tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

You knew he didn't mean for what he just did. He was angry at the drug dealer but more angry at himself. Everything was building up for JJ and you knew this was his breaking point.

You shook your head. "It's fine."

This time JJ shook his head. "No, it's not. I keep messing up."

You softly smiled at him, cupping his head on your hands. "No, you're not."

JJ pushed you away. "No, I am. Y/N, I'm not embarrassed to be seen with you. Shit, I'd be singing it from every fuckin' rooftop in OBX if I could."

You chuckled, coming closer again. "Then why don't you?"

JJ frowned. "Did you not just see the danger I've already put you in. I'm a fuckin' trainwreck."

You were gonna cry. You hated seeing JJ put himself down like this. If only he saw himself the way you saw him. "No you're not. Anything that's happened to me today is because I wanted to help. It's not your fault."

You reached out for JJ but he pushed you away again. "I'm a Pogue and you're a Kook. I'm just gonna put you in unnecessary danger."

You rolled your eyes. "Can't we just drop those titles? It's not important to me."

JJ shook his head. "Of course it's not. You're a Kook. You don't know what it's like."

Although that stung, you knew it was true. It was easier for you to stay that those differences didn't matter. You were privileged as a Kook. A privilege JJ never had. You had never walked a day in his shoes and experienced his pain. And until you did, you would never understand it.

"So, you're trying to protect me?" You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

JJ nodded, looking down at his shoes. "Of course."

You rolled your eyes and smiled. Without a second's hesitation, you leaned forward and hugged him. JJ was taken aback for a second. He was sure that you were going to slap him or hurt him for what he said to you but instead, you were happy? He couldn't understand. 

"JJ," you said softly, letting go of JJ for a moment only to keep your arms wrapped around his neck. "I need you. You make me happy. Whatever I don't understand, I can learn. I want to make it work. I'd never be ashamed of you."

JJ tried not to smile as wide but he couldn't help it. His arms came to wrap around your bare stomach, only now realizing that you were only wearing a bikini top. 

"Okay." He said, leaning forward to kiss you softly. You instantly leaned forward to kiss him back.

No matter how many kisses, no matter how many butterflies, kissing JJ always felt like the first time. You had officially decided there was no better feeling in the world than to kiss JJ Maybank.

Once you broke apart, you wanted to speak again and tell him everything you felt for him, even if you only knew him for less than a week. You felt something so strongly for him already but you were scared to admit it. You were scared he didn't feel the same. You had barely known each other. Luckily, you didn't get a chance to say anything because before you can speak, John B. is calling out the both of you.

"Hey love birds! Wanna help?"

You could hear everyone snickering at you and JJ as you awkwardly realized what you had just done in front of your friends. You both distanced yourselves from each other and smiled. 

JJ flipped off John B. and looked at you. "I hope you're ready for the Pogue experience."

You smiled wider and nodded. For the millionth time this week, you looked at JJ and couldn't believe someone like JJ Maybank could make you feel like this.

And you knew, it was just the beginning.

~

tag list: @dolanfivsosxox @obxrush @bellakellyrose03 @belledutchess @sexualparkour @lueurglow @itsriasblog @maries110911 @ebonyyyy-e @teamnick @tangledinsparkles @sarahsmaybank @91912512 @shawnssongs @ssjiara @amarachoren

#jj maybank #outer banks #jj obx #jj outer banks #obx #obx fanfiction #obx netflix #john b obx #john b outer banks #john b routledge #pope obx #pope outer banks #pope heyward #kiara carrera #kiara outer banks #kiara #obx kiara #sarah cameron #sarah outer banks #jj x reader #obx rp #rafe obx

[j0elmill3r]

Come What May

Ransom Drysdale x Daughter!Reader

Ransom Drysdale Masterlist

Warnings; Swearing, mentions of suicide, depression, self-doubt, yelling, crying, ransom being angry and sad and scared (oops) ANGST ANGST

word count; 2.4k

A/N; Hope the anon who requested enjoys!

--

The house you lived in felt more like a prison. A prison that had a 72 inch TV in the living room, plush couches, and anything you could ever want or need. Most people would have killed to have your life, you had it all. Well, everything except a dad who cared about you. That wasn't a fair way to explain your dad, I'll rephrase.  Your dad, Ransom, did care. He just wasn't very good at showing it, he wasn't very sure how to be a dad to a daughter that seemed too distant and moody to care about anything or anyone, so he thought it was what you wanted. Neither of you was particularly innocent, but neither of you was completely guilty. When you were younger, you were the apple of your dad's eye, but it was as if you became a teenager and he didn't care anymore. It felt as though he didn't care about you, and that the fancy private school and designer clothes you wore were all an act to make your family think you were a happy family. If you were a happy family, you wouldn't find yourself running to the bathroom to cry about 'how you aren't good enough and you never will be, that your family would be better off without you because you are nothing but a disappointment' and then you would come out and act as if you were perfectly fine and weren't completely torn and beaten down.

-

"I'm heading out, I'll be back later tonight," You looked up from your desk and turned your eyes up to your dad, who was leaning against your doorframe. Putting your AirPods on your desk, you sighed and nodded.

"Okay," You said softly, giving him a small, but hopefully believable smile. "I'll see you tomorrow," Ransom had a weird feeling that something was wrong, but he ignored it, you were always fine when he left you. Ransom walked away and locked the front door, locking you in the prison that you called home. You knew he was going to forget, but it didn't hurt any less when it was confirmed that you would be spending your 16th birthday alone. Everyone else had texted you, your grandma and grandpa, your friends, hell, even Jacob texted you. But your own dad had forgotten your birthday. Putting your pen down on your desk, you stood up from your chair and turned the piece of paper over. You took your phone off charge and put it in the pocket of your hoodie, and walked down the stairs into the living room. You sat on the couch and pulled your favourite throw blanket over you, usually, you would have put on a movie, but you had found yourself losing interest in everything you used to love, nothing could appear to make you happy anymore. As you lay there on the couch, you couldn't help the negative thoughts that were running around your mind and making you even more miserable than you already felt.

You're nothing other than a burden.

No one would miss you.

Do you even deserve to be loved?

You were snapped out of your thoughts by your dad calling your phone. You answered it quickly, having a small glimmer of hope that he would be calling to say that he was coming back and that he was sorry he forgot your birthday.

"Hello?" You answered, your voice sounding hopeful.

"Hey, sweetheart. Something came up, I won't be home until the morning," He said. Your heart broke, but you smiled, even though he couldn't see you, it was as if it was your immediate response for when you had to pretend you were okay.

"Oh-uh, okay. Have a good night," You tried not to let your voice break as tears flooded your eyes. He didn't reply to you, but the phone hung up. You still held your phone to your ear like you were still on the phone to him. "I love you," You said sadly. You looked at the time on your phone, 22:09. It was early, but you decided that you would go upstairs and continue with what you were doing earlier. You put your speaker on and put on (Y/F/A), letting it play as loudly as it could go. You continued writing your note, tears dropping from your eyes and onto the piece of paper below you, leaving small stains on the paper. You read over it one last time before folding it over and writing the word 'dad' in bold capitals on the front. Sighing and sniffling, you stood up from your desk and walked to your dad's room that was down the hall from yours, and you put the note with his name face up on his desk. You didn't know why you did it, because you would never hurt yourself, you had the lowest pain tolerance ever, and you couldn't leave your dad, as much as you were convinced he hated you. When you got back to your room, you threw yourself down on your bed. You sobbed and sobbed, eventually crying yourself to sleep after your speaker had run out of charge.

-

Ransom had a weird gut feeling that something was wrong before he left. He had had the feeling for a while, once you turned around 14 he could tell you were acting strange and distant, so he took it as a notion you wanted space, so it was space he would give you. And anyway, any kid going through the p-word doesn't want their mom or dad peering over their shoulder every 5 minutes. Ransom also had a feeling he had forgotten something important, something that meant something to someone. But as usual, he drank away those feelings with the people he would call his associates since he flat out refused to call anyone his friend. The next morning when he came home, he noticed that your blanket was on the couch, unfolded, the complete opposite of how you liked it. That set another alarm bell off for him. He folded it up and carried it upstairs and into your room, where you were still sleeping. He sighed as he saw you hadn't slept under the comforter, a habit you had if you had been up all night and fell asleep straight after coming up from downstairs. He left your room and went into his own, wanting nothing more than to have a shower and go to sleep in his own bed. The note on his desk caught his eye, it was your handwriting.

Dad.

Believe me when I say I'm sorry.  Fuck, I'm more than sorry. I don't know why, but I don't wanna do this anymore. Everything hurts, and I don't know why or what's going on anymore. I love you, even though you don't love me, but it's okay, you don't have to love something you never wanted. I just don't see the point in doing this anymore if no one cares, especially you. You're all better off without me anyway, I don't do much and I can't do much right anyway. You shouldn't have to pay for everything for me just because you can, I don't deserve it, I don't deserve anything. I know this is going to hurt, nevermind that, I know it won't, but you'll get over it and soon you'll be able to live a normal life again, without a financial and physical burden. I'm sorry.

Y/N.

Ransom had never felt this kind of fear before. It was fear that took a grip on you and never lets you go for minutes, the kind that leaves you paralyzed and cold. He didn't feel his hands shaking, he also didn't feel the cold sweat that took over him. The letter fell from his hands as he ran to your room, opening the door and wishing that you hadn't done anything to yourself.

"Y/N?! Y/N wake the fuck up!" He yelled, not angrily, more of a panic than anything. "What the fuck, Y/N I swear to God this isn't funny, wake up!" He yelled again. He sighed in relief when you groaned and turned around, breath hitching when you saw your dad standing at the end of your bed, unshed tears in his eyes. He looked utterly fucking terrified, you had never seen him like this before.

"Dad, what's wrong?" You asked him, completely forgetting you had left him the note a few hours ago.

"Let me see your arms," He said lowly. Then it hit you like a freight train, he found it. You looked at him in fear.

"I don't-"

"Y/N, show me your fucking arms!" He yelled. You nodded and rolled the sleeves of your hoodie up and showed him both of your arms. He sighed in relief seeing that there were no marks or scars on your arms. "What the fuck was that?!" He said loudly.

"It wasn't real," You said quietly. There had only been one moment when your dad was as scared as he was now, that time being when Jacob had pushed you from the swing and you fell and cut your head open. "I promise it wasn't real," You said louder. The scoff he let out told you that he didn't believe you. You knew that when he left your room he was going to get the note. Ransom read it out loud.

"Well, Y/N, this sounds pretty fucking real," He said. "Why? Why would you write this?" Ransom feared the answer you were going to give to his next question, what would happen if you said yes? "Where-where you going to try and kill yourself?" He asked you, his voice breaking.

"No! I wasn't-I wasn't going to kill myself," You told him.

"And how am I supposed to believe you? Leave you alone again and then I come back and you're dead?" You let out a sob. "Y/N, you said I don't love you, how could you say that?"

"Because it's true, alright?! You-you forgot my birthday, dad. I told you, grandma told you, grandpa told you, everyone fucking told you and you still forgot!" You yelled for the first time. Ransom froze, so that was what he forgot. "I-I just wanna know why you're not around anymore. Do you not love me anymore?" You asked him with so much fear in your voice it genuinely scared Ransom.

"You think I don't love you?" Ransom asked; it didn't even sound like your dad speaking. "Y/N, I love you, so much. My parents were assholes, you know that. I don't have anything to go off of and without your mom, I'm scared you'll turn out exactly like me if I'm the one here to parent you, I don't want you to be me," He said. Ransom had moved from the end of your bed to sit on your bed beside you. "I know that's not even close to a good excuse, but for the first time in forever, I don't have an excuse. I should've noticed sooner. Maybe I should have listened to everyone when they were saying I was being a shitty dad to you,"

"You're not a shitty dad, okay? I should have tried to tell you, it's my fault too," You assured him. Ransom took your hand and looked in your eyes, he was shocked by how tired and empty they looked.

"None of this is your fault," He told you. "We can fix this, okay? We'll talk things out, you can go to therapy. But I have to ask you, did you even plan on hurting yourself last night or at any point?" You shook your head. Ransom pulled you onto his lap like he would do when you were younger, you could feel his heart going a mile a minute.

"No. I couldn't do it to you, I didn't wanna leave you. I never even wanted you to read it, it was like something forced me to put it there. I would never want you to have to read it for real if I ever did do something, but I couldn't," You told him. He nodded and put his chin on top of your head.

"I love you," He said quietly. You smiled at the little phrase.

"I love you too,"

--

After some breakdowns and a lot of therapy, you were happier, and it showed. Your full Drysdale attitude had become prominent, gone was the little girl who would cry when she skinned her knee, in her place stood the new and (not so) improved Y/N Drysdale. If anyone wanted proof you were a Drysdale, Ransom would have filmed the fit you had when he told you that you had to come to yet another family function with him.

"No," You said adamantly. You were laying against your dad on the couch, some movie playing on the TV that you weren't paying attention to.

"Yes, you're going. It'll be fine, I promise," He assured you.

"Can we go if I wanna leave?" You asked him. Ransom nodded and looked down at you. You had been diagnosed with Atypical Depression and Anxiety, both of which you dealt with on your own, but Ransom made it his mission to make sure you understood that he was always there if you needed him, which you consistently told him you understood fine well.

"You say the word if it plays up, alright. And I permit you to cause any harm to the little Nazi dick, if he annoys you, it might add some fun to the night," He said as he took a sip of his drink. "You should take your boyfriend," You scoffed and shook your head. "He's not my boyfriend," You defended yourself.

"Hm, sure. So when he full-blown-"

"Dad!" You complained. Ransom sniggered and put his arm around you.

"If I find out he's your boyfriend Y/N, I'll be severely offended that you didn't tell me," He said. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked up at him.

"Why? I have like a million reasons not to tell you," You reminded him.

"Because I'll miss out on the infamous dad talk to scare him. And to tell him if he knocks you up I'll kill him because I could barely handle you as a baby I don't think I could take your off-spring, kiddo,"

"Okay, that's you implying that he's my boyfriend and that you think I would sleep with him in the first place," You laughed.

"Fine, I'll drop it. Only so I forget about the fact that you're gonna get a boyfriend at some point, 'cause look at you, you got most of my genes, you're fucking beautiful. Well done me,"

You laughed. You were glad that your house didn't feel like a prison anymore, and your head didn't feel like one either. You were happy to be happy again.

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[chimswae]

BTS Caretaker CH8

Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?

- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)

- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au

- Word Count: 2,008

- Author Note: Finally update on time! i appreciate your feedback and comment, just drop in my ASK BOX :)

Previous | Next

Chapter 8

“Why are you in rush?” the older guy blinks confusedly at the sight before him. Seul was struggling with her aprons as a frustrated sigh escaped her mouth “I have another work to catch on” untangling the dangling knots around her, Wongeun shook his head in amusement.

He took a few steps closer to Seul, grabbing her shoulders while leaning down to her level “Let me help you with that” Seul froze at the close proximity. A wisp of Wongeun scent reminded her of the supposed-to-be-forgotten-Min-Yoongi, and it was horrible to have him in her mind again.

“Don’t overwork yourself Seul-ah. You are still young” his fingers were fidgeting with the knots around her waist. He carefully untangled it as he smiles bashfully. God, Seul really hated this kind of gesture by a guy like Wongeun. It is troublesome for her heart.

Seul felt a heavy lump on her throat, as she forced out the words coming out from her mouth without sounding like she’s screeching. “Thank you oppa for your concern but I will be fine. I am doing this for my mother after all” she was grateful of the attention that he showed her. Sometimes her colleagues mistaken his kind gesture as a flirt when she tried to push that thoughts far away from her. Just because it was ethically wrong to have a feeling for her employer.

He removed the pink apron gracefully and took few steps back with a soft smile that could melt many hearts “I know you are a good daughter but don’t forget people around you. They care for you. I am sure your mother doesn’t want to see you like this either” Wongeun tucked strand of hair behind her ears.

“Alright alright, what is with this super serious talk. That doesn’t fit you” she chortled, jabbing his arm playfully.

“I am being serious. Okay, I am still worried that your workplace has no female but bunch of hormonal teenagers” his brow flinched together with a hint of concern.

Seul snorted “They are young adults. It is totally different from teenagers. Man, this is so unnecessary. I got to go, I don’t want to bump into any of those babytans” she slipped her phone inside her sling bag, taking all her stuffs in the locker.

“You even have a nickname for them” he pointed out shooting a sly smile.

“WHAT?!” Seul flustered causing her cheeks to reddened turning her into a ripe tomato. She just disliked the mention of their names being associated with her, god knows how she hated herself for letting this thing affect her brain.

“See you tomorrow” she scurried off putting a stop to Wongeun teasing. What a trickster.

 ------------------

Jimin rolled off from his bed and went straight to the bathroom. He was taking a short nap and like a flash all the members disappeared in thin air. Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon went to the company few hours ago like they usually did whilst Jimin chose to stay at home since he already spent 18 hours in the studio yesterday.

Taehyung was not at home either since afternoon, as soon as their Busan’s schedule got cancelled earlier this morning, he went to watch his friend’s musical show. He offered to take Jimin along, but he was dead tired to even get off from his comfortable bed. Taking a nap supposed to help rejuvenating his body and mind a little until he noticed no one was at home but him.

He took a quick shower before coming out shirtless feeling refresh and alive. Not long after, his ears caught the sound of the door being opened, it made him skipped a little in his stance “They are here already? THAT WAS FAST!” he grabbed random shirts from his closet.

“ugh they wont leave me alone right?” Jimin turned into a real klutz as he grabbed his phone and wallet before making his way outside his room. “You said eight minutes” said Jimin who had been busy forcing himself into the grey shirt.

Seul’s eyes widened at the sight in front of her. It made her mind fuzzy, blood rushing in her system and to her astonishment the figure in front of her got Seul losing her ability to talk. To be frank, her knees weakened, and she was screaming mentality.

Jimin noticed the heavy atmosphere making him uneasy for no reason and with that he quickly slipped the shirt over his head. “OH SHIT” his eyes shot opened. He gasped in sheer horror scanning Seul from head to toes.

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU” he breathed deeply, taking a step back. Seul could see him blushing deeply mainly due to the way him welcoming her with his toned body. Why must she have a weird encounter with this babytan? Crazy much.

Seul averted her eyes from meeting his shy gaze and cleared her throat in process “Why no one inform me that you will be around at this time?” she mumbled in frustration. This should not be happening since her last encounter with Yoongi was not that good either.

“ARE YOU A…SASAENG PERHAPS?” Jimin clutches onto his phone tight, staring at her way with a bewildered look. His mind was plotting something nasty and cruel, yet he didn’t know if he could execute it. Before things turned bad, he must save himself first and contacted anyone like Kim Seokjin because after all he was on his way there.  

“Were you the girl that Yoongi hyung mentioned before?”

“The one who pretended to be the caretaker ahjumma? When you are not?”

“OH MY GOD. YOU ARE REAL! HYUNG WAS NOT LYING AFTER ALL” his voice croaked at the end indicating his fear and nervousness. The words coming out from his mouth was distorted but sounded cute to Seul. Even though it was not the time to mentally squeal over his cuteness, Jimin is undeniably cute indeed.

“Don’t bore me with your false assumptions. That guy has been getting it all wrong” Seul rummaged through her bag finding her mother’s staff id as a proof so it could shut this tiny guy instantly. However, as a self-defence Jimin took few steps back afraid Seul pulled out guns or blades from her bags.

Rolling her eyes, Seul flashed the card “There you go.. it is my mother’s staff id. Can you trust me now?” she pressed.

He glanced at the staff id in Seul’s hand “Are you sure that is your mother?”

“Duh, yes? People said I take after her. Can’t you see the obvious?” Seul shot him a disapproval look. Maybe, Jimin is cute but he aint anymore when he inquired her like a legit policeman.

Jimin then took the chance to scrutinize Seul’s face start from her eyebrows along her crescent moon eyes that practically shoots dagger at his way making him flustered immediately. Coughing away to ease the awkwardness, Jimin eyes land on his pink lips that purses up showing off her annoyance.

“Are you seriously creeping on me right now?” her voice brought him out from his trance when the reality finally hits him hard. Shit, what am I doing. Jimin bit his lower lips surpassing the urge to cuss out loud.

Seul grew quiet for few seconds gathering the sense of humanity in her before beating the crap out of him “I am here to work, and I don’t have time to explain to someone who refuse to believe what I am saying at first place. I am sure that hyung of yours have already told you what I said to him weeks ago. So, can you just digest it and embrace the reality that I am here to work not to stare at you” distressed Jimin had no idea how to react to this. Should he just run off and find help or should he just let her do the works and wait until Jin and Jungkook came to the rescue?

“I am beginning to be vexed with you, gosh” she stared boringly at his way.

He pressed his lips together trying to steady his breathing “That doesn’t prove anything… mmm…i.. think you are dangerous. I will just…” Jimin strutted to his room and locked the door behind him. Seul grunted under her breath, it was an unexpected meeting again. If this kept going, she would end up embarrassing herself in front of the whole population of babytans.

She felt a small smile crept up at the corner of her lips ‘Except for him. He doesn’t look that baby after all’ she blushed madly upon the image of shirtless Jimin creeping in. Considering Jimin is around, Seul decided to settle things quick and leave as soon as possible. She didn’t know who else would come in few minutes, every second is precious. On top of all, she didn’t want to meet Min Yoongi again. Worst case of scenario.

 --------------

Pacing back and forth anxiously was Park Jimin. He blamed himself for turning himself into a real fool. What was he thinking? Showing off his skin in front of stranger who could possibly hurt him or even sexually harassed him? Was there any case whereby man got raped by a woman? Negativity only to bring unnecessary panic.

Think rational.

Calm down.

Inhaling a deep breath, Jimin took his phone and his fingers clumsily typed a quick message to Jin asking his whereabouts. He clearly said it was only eight minutes, but this took forever.

Releasing a sigh of relief, Jimin finally felt less helpless at the moment. He did not even dare to go beyond the door. No one knew what she could possibly plan in that brain of hers. Another thing was that she looked pretty decent to be referred as a murderer or kidnapper however anything could happen in one night.

He sunk on his bed, squeezing his eyes together ‘Why is she here. Is she real’ he raked fingers in his damp hair angrily.

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

Drumming his fingers against the glass table, Yoongi concentrated on mixing the tunes that came into his mind earlier with the new verse that Hoseok suggested. He had been busy producing new songs for their upcoming comeback and this was just beginning. Out of all time that he had in this world, he loved those days when he could spend all day in his studio making music, getting new inspirations and let the idea flow beautifully.

Staring blankly at the cold ceiling, his mind drifted off to the kisses that he had with Seul few weeks ago. His brows clenched together, protesting the dull ache that was beginning to grow in his temple “Screw that woman” he scowled.

The beep coming from his phone diverted his attention from thinking of Seul again, thankfully. A message from Jimin was unusual unless it was really important.

He arose from his seat, shutting down all the equipment. His determination to catch Seul again today doubled “I will make sure to catch you this time” he grinded his teeth together. As he was about to exit his room, he bumped into clueless Hoseok right in front of his studio “Are you heading back already?” the younger guy blinked at his hyung unusual behaviour.

Min PD won’t be back home not until he was summoned by Jin. When this happened, it simply means Jin was annoyed of Yoongi overwork himself to the extent of neglecting his meals and rest.

“I will be back later.. I have something important to do” said Yoongi flatly avoiding Hoseok judgemental round eyes.

“And? Why you look irritated? Did something bothering you” Hoseok used his luck to pry answers from him.

“Later. Tell Namjoon, the song demo is on his desk” giving Hoseok a light pat on the back, he brushed pass him without looking back. This was it, he had no time to waste or else he would be losing her again. It was already hard to predict her shift every day, he was not planning to waste the chances.

Hoseok watched his small figure disappeared “Is hyung dating someone? Not that I remember”

  This work belongs to  Chimswae © 2020. All Rights Reserved.

#bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts idolau #yoongi x oc #min yoongi x reader #jeon jungkook x oc #bts fluff #yoongi fluff #yoongi romance #jin x oc #namjoon x oc #jimin x oc #kim seokjin x oc #hoseok x oc #taehyung x oc #bts romance #bts series #btscaretaker

[thatanimenerd101]

Powerful Love

Paring: Kirishima x female reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of surgery, hospitals and angst. You may or may not cry.

Note: I will be taking a break from Hawks.

He fell in love the moment he first saw you. You were interning with another hero at Fat Gum’s agency. You were walking out of Fat Gum’s office and he bumped into you.This sent the papers you were carrying flying to the floor Your hair was in a messy bun and you weren't in your hero costume.

“I am so sorry.” You bowed and apologized again. He smiled brightly at you.

“Don't worry about it. Are you alright?” He looked at you to make sure you were not hurt.

You nodded. The boy with red hair bent down and started to pick up the papers that were in plies on the floor.

That day was almost two years ago. You were waiting outside the male locker room for your boyfriend, Kirishima. He'd gotten taller, he was almost six feet tall now. He'd also gotten stronger since his first year at UA. You sat on the bench playing some game on your phone. Kirishima had promised to take you to a movie and a nice dinner. You put your phone in your pocket, ‘am I wearing nice enough clothes. All I’m wearing is jeans and a nice t-shirt.’ The t-shirt was red roit merchandise and Kirishima loved it when you’d wear something with his hero name on it. Even though he was still Fat Gum’s sidekick. He had a few things out to the public.

“Hey pebble.” You look up to find your boyfriend looking down at you.

“Sharkie!” You threw your arms around him. He chuckled.

“Are you ready for tonight babe?”

You held his hands and kissed his knuckles. This made his face turn the color of his hair.

“Of course I am. My boyfriend always knows how to show me a good time with whatever we are doing.”

“Aww, Red Riot is blushing.” A deep male voice said behind you two. The both of you turned around and saw Fat Gum.

“Hi Fat Gum!” You said at the same time.

“Unfortunately Kirishima, you're needed out in the field. I just got the phone call, they need you in the southern district.” Fat Gum paused. “You are also needed in the northeast district h/n. I’m sorry about your plans, but we are heroes and the people need us.” You quickly gave Kirishima a kiss on the cheek and went to get back into your hero clothes.

Kirishima frowned, he was going to ask you a special question. No not to marry you, but he wanted to give you a promise ring. It’s not common but he still wanted to give it to me because it was kinda like an engagement. But a pre one. The poor boy didn’t understand the meaning behind it but Mina said it would be cool. Fat Gum looked down at his sidekick.

“I’ll pay for you two lovebirds to go to the restaurant across the street. The one with chocolate cake.” Fat Gum smiled down. “Have you given her that gift yet?”

“No, I haven’t yet. I’ve tried several times but I mess up my words and it’s really unmanly of me but I’m scared she’ll say no.”

“Say no? You love her and she loves you. It’s as simple as that. Now we got people to save, be ready in five minutes.”

You had finished evacuation and were ready to go back to the agency. Until you looked up at a tv in a storefront window. The headline read ‘The Stredy Hero Red Riot was injured in today’s events, he’s currently on his way to the hospital.’

Once you were given the clear to leave you ran to the hospital. You didn’t care that it was far or what anybody said or did. You had to know if he was okay. As you were running you bumped into people, you didn’t stop to apologize because you didn’t care. Time stopped and wouldn’t come back until you knew he was okay.

The next think you knew, you were standing in the hospital. Covered in sweat and you were breathing heavily. Looking around, your eyes made contact with a certain hero. Fat Gum in his not fat self. You ran to him.

“Where is he?!” Your tone sounded more demanding than what you wanted. A few looks from the staff.

Fat Gum pated the chair next to him. “He’s about to be taken to surger-“

“Surgery! What the hell happened out there?!” You felt your chest tighten and it became harder to breathe.

“L/n you need to calm down.” That’s the last thing you heard before everything went black.

“Hey kid! You okay?!” A nurse was trying to wake you up. You shot up from the floor. “Where is Kirishima Eijirou? I need to see him!”

The nurse pushed you back on the floor. “Don’t move, you hit your head when you blacked out. Do you feel any pain?”

“No.” You lied, your head hurt. “Even if I was in pain I wouldn’t care, I need to see my boyfriend now.” Your eyes watered. “He’s hurt, I saw it on the news, I need to know if he’s okay.”

“I’m his nurse, he’s okay. He will be out of surgery in a few hours. Now please go to the waiting room on the sixth floor.”

The next few hours didn’t feel like hours, it felt like days. Fat Gum waited with you, he tried to get you to eat but you refused to eat or drink.

“He’s going to be okay l/n, he’s tough and you know it. I also know that you’ll take good care of him at home.” He smiled as he tried to cheer you up.

“I will take good care of him, but I’m scared. It hurts sometimes because you never know what can happen or if I’ll ever see him again.” You were holding back tears.

“Kirishima Eijiro?” A Doctor with blue scrubs walked in the room with her clipboard.

“Yes.” You and Fat Gum stood up.

The doctor looked up at the two of you with sadness in her eyes.

“He’s still in surgery, the wound he received went deeper than we thought. We have a specialist on their way, his liver and right lung have sustained more damage then what our scans showed. Is there anyone else you can call for him?”

You couldn’t speak.

“Yes, I’ll call his parents.”

“Now, all we can do is hope for him. But do not worry our team will do our best to save him.”

Four hours later

The surgery was a success, but he was still sleeping. His parents were sitting by his hospital bed. Everything was white, the walls, the bed, everything. The only thing that had color in the room was his messy red hair. His mother and father stepped out of the room, they wanted to give you a moment alone with him. You held his hand.

“Remember our first date? We were walking in the park and you tried to pick up that flower and it turned out to have a bee on it and it stung you?” You looked down at him with tears starting to spill. “I love you so much Kiri, you mean everything to me. Without you is like a world without fun. I have fun with my friends but you have given me more joy than anything. I know we fight sometimes, but it’s normal. You have so much to live for, we are only teenagers and we have our whole lives ahead of us.” You looked down at him again, he was waking up.

“Y/n?” His voice was strained.

“Yes, it’s me Sharkie. I’m here for you.” You kissed his forehead. “I’m so happy your alive, the doctors thought you weren’t going to ma-“ He cut you off with a kiss on the hand.

“Can you grab me the bag with my belongings in it?” You tilted your head in confusion but gave him the bag. He searched through it and pulled out a small red velvet box.

“Y/n, I know this isn't a romantic place but I just punched death in the face so I won’t be unmanly anymore. Y/n l/n will you accept this ring as a promise to each other that one day I will give you a diamond ring. I have loved you since the moment I laid my eyes on you and I will love you no matter what happens.” He opened the small box and inside was a ruby ring with your initials engraved on it. You sat down on his bed, if your jaw could touch the floor it would be at this moment.

“Yes Eijirou, I will!” You let him put the ring on your ring finger.

“I feel kinda weird right now, like I can’t feel my stomach or as Chargebolt would say high.”

“It’s just the pain medication Sharkie.” You both laughed.

His parents were happy to see him awake and the doctors were shocked that he even had even lived. But love is more powerful than anything else in the world. Love saves everyone.

Tags

@tryna-imagine @zyrielwolf @tooloudarts @queensynderella

#mha x reader #mha #fluff #kirishima x reader #mha x y/n #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x kirshima #kirshima eijirou

[unsent-voicemail]

[Part 3] thank u, next (Marvel!Chrises x Female! Reader)

One taught me pain.

warnings: rpf, angst, cliche as fuck

* What probably pushed me to finally write this is the fact that it took me a damned year to complete the series! Plans don’t always go the way you pictured them in your head, no? * This is the last part (well, technically not as I’m planning an epilogue) & I’m so excited to move onto my next series! * Comments & feedback are welcomed! They sure help me improve and find out what kind of stuff to write next.

Prologue Part 1 Part 2

Mustering all the emotional strength she had left, she opened up the book knowing that there was thankfully one last entry left. The thought of how tacky it was of her to reminisce about her exes on her wedding day reentered her mind, but she thought that since she’s already started, she might as well finish it. Moreover, it’s not like anyone would find out, and she didn’t plan on telling anybody

With a bit more confidence, her fingers danced across the scrapbook and skipped over to the last entry. Upon drinking in what the page contained, she felt a pang as bittersweet as the relationship she was reminded of nip at her heart. Trying to smile through her frown, she ran a finger through the photograph pasted on the page, lightly and mindlessly chuckling at how childishly lovestruck she looked for someone who was a self-proclaimed “grown woman”.

She noted how she looked pretty good with the sun’s gentle rays highlighting the best points of her face as it contrasted with the colors of the beach, but she couldn’t help but pay more attention to the man who had her in a tight bear hug, flashing the camera a breath-taking smile as his eyes that rivaled the color of the ocean seemingly pierced through the photograph.

––

At that point in her life, she never thought she’d call another man the “love of her life” ever again after doing so twice (and proving herself to be horribly wrong about it– twice.). It was childish and way too idealistic, and she was done with that. She was a working woman now, therefore her priorities were different, and so were her interests. At that point, it was all about establishing her career and getting money.

It was miraculous how her friends able to drag her out for a quick weekend trip to beach given that her life was spent either holed up in her office cubicle or passed out on her ratty couch in front of the TV.  While she spent the entire trip grumbling on how much tasks she has on hold, she was secretly thankful that she went; she needed some time away from the hectic career-woman life she was living along as she temporarily escaped from it with an ice-cold margarita. Moreover, she needed to start dating again.

Lucky for her, she found just what she needed when she met Chris Hemsworth.

She wasn’t quite sure if her good friends “coincidentally” brought a couple friends a long, but she was glad they did, especially since Chris was absolutely handsome and had an amazing personality to match. She didn’t realize it, but her uptight self loosened up almost immediately with the way Chris brought life into their little get-together; he wasn’t the well-planned, organized man she usually looked for, but she didn’t mind it at all– his spontaneity and free spirit was just like a breath of fresh air. Her friends noticed how well they clicked in spite of the differences, but didn’t dare to make fun of them or say anything as they were in favor of things going well and they haven’t seen her so comfortable with a man in a while– it was as if the bland, couch potato of their friend did a complete 180 right before their eyes.

She and Chris were so caught up in the fun they were having that they didn’t notice how fast time flew by, and before they could register it, it was time to go home. With heavy bags and even heavier hearts, they said their goodbyes with a rather awkward, tense hug that had their hearts wildly beating in their chests. She hated the fact that her carefree, fun persona was more temporary than she had realized, and she was only a 2-hour drive away from the boring, all-work-and-no-play persona she had grown accustomed to.

To her surprise, Chris was seriously interested in her, and was persistent in keeping in touch. Perhaps, her effortless wit and gentle nature had him yearning for more of her, or it could simply be the fact that she was just absolutely beautiful inside and out. Either way, Chris found himself wanting to open his eyes to her text messages and fall asleep to the sound of her hushed voice over the phone. In spite of a great distance between them (with him living on one side of town while she lived on the opposite side), he felt a special connection bring them closer and closer each day. He vowed that in spite of them living different lives in different places, he’ll make sure that they keep in touch knowing that what they had over the short vacation was not all that was in store for them.

It didn’t take long before the both of them started wanting to be more than just friends, finding themselves yearning for each other when they couldn’t text or talk to each other on the phone, and feeling a warm giddiness course through them when they did. Though it took them quite a while to come to terms and believe in such desire, they eventually did, knowing that they couldn’t fight it anymore. In spite of the physical distance, the mutual feelings that couldn’t be suppressed any longer were soon made known through their respective confessions, and they started dating immediately after that.

Caught up in a seemingly whirlwind romance, they didn’t realize how quickly they were moving. Lost in the fresh spontaneity Chris brought into her life, they didn’t realize that they had done a lot more in a short amount of time compared to average relationships. She wasn’t thinking about foresight or planning at that point– she was in love, and that was all that mattered. In spite of the people suggesting that perhaps they should get to know each other better, they carried on doing what they pleased in the relationship. To them, as long as they made each other happy and it felt right, they didn’t need more.

Thinking back, they wished they knew better and actually listened.

After a month and a half of dating, she agreed to let Chris move in with her. His job was home-based, anyway, and she felt like her apartment was becoming a little too empty and quiet. The decision was raw and hasty, but to them, it proved to be the best decision as they basked in the domestic comfort that was now present in their relationship.

Chris has never felt that certain way about a woman before– it was new, fresh, and exciting. There was finally some sense of stability and order in his life as she hadn’t completely shaken off the uptight, perfectionist planner in her. He found himself completely enamored by the image of her flittering about the house just to get things in order– getting breakfast sorted before she left for work, rocking out to the biggest hits of her teenage years as they cleaned the house on weekends, and making the house all presentable and pretty for dinner. He can’t recall when he started feeling like he wanted to settle down, but the feeling grew stronger each time he saw her become more and more wife-like.

“Let’s get married.” Chris said abruptly in the middle of their Thursday dinner weeks after realizing his craving for permanent domesticity with her, making her drop her utensils in shock. “Marry me.” his voice was full of conviction, reaffirming her that he knew what he said as she seemed to be baffled with the way she asked him to repeat himself. She was speechless as her jaw hung open, then she started laughing heartily, not of mockery, but one of pleased surprise that filled Chris’ ears like a class piano melody. She didn’t expect him to ever be interested in settling down, but then again, when it came to him, there were no expectations.

“Sure.” was her simply reply, grinning from ear to ear as she looked at him with so much love and adoration. A million thoughts were racing through her mind, but all of them had to common denominator of how much she was excited to spend her life with him. While she always dreamed of a traditional down-on-one-knee proposal leading to a white picket fence, classic movie marriage, she was willing to give it up for the adventure of an unorthodox marriage she knew she’d have with Chris following his very unorthodox proposal.

Despite the lack of a rock on her ring finger (Chris said it didn’t define his determination to marry her and he wanted it to be a wedding day surprise), she seemingly made a million plans all at once in excitement. The list of guests got longer and longer, and each of those invited, especially her parents, questioned her confidence in getting into something huge with somebody she’s known for less than a year. Met with a snappy answer of how they don’t know the entire story, and that they could either deal with her or feel free to not show up, they backed off and apologized in an attempt to appease her, thinking that the it was just the planning stress getting to her. Unbeknownst to them, it was the underlying stress and embarrassment of how they might actually be right that was biting at her.

As the plans got grander and the ideas got more ambitious, Chris started to think about what he was getting into. He was a simple man, and if it were up to him, he would have just taken her to the city hall the same night he expressed his desire to marry her. He had never envisioned himself as the type to settle down as he seemed to “itch” if he were in one place for too long, leading the people who really knew him to ask if he was sure and if he perhaps meant to say something else. Such questions made him stop and think, and maybe even want to put the whole thing on pause, but whenever he saw how full of life the woman he loved was as she brought the wedding plans into fruition, he shook off whatever doubt he had and reassured himself that he surely wanted what he was getting into.

Several decisions, breakdowns, screaming matches with the organizers, and fittings later, the day of the wedding finally came, and she could not be more relieved that she was over all the planning bullshit. All she had to do that day was seal the deal and spend forever with the man of her dreams. The mere thought of it had her pacing back and forth with excitement and a hint of nervousness as she sweat profusely that she didn’t even realize that her mother had been trying to snap her out of her trance to tell her that she got a text message from Chris. With shaking hands, she took the cellphone from her mother and hastily read the text, immediately wishing she didn’t.

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” was all the message contained, but it more than enough for her to let out a pained sob as she collapsed to the floor, shaking and heaving as everyone around her panicked and tried to console her.

From then on, there was nothing but pain.

Everything she smelled, touched, saw, heard, and tasted seemed to be full of agonizing pain.

Chris knew that she would be hurt, but the damage was done; he had already sent the text, and he was absolutely sure that everything had gone to shit at the moment. While he knew he wasn’t the most confrontational man in the world, he didn’t expect himself to be such a coward with the way he couldn’t even tell her personally that his cold feet were getting the best of him, and that he wanted to take a step back. He didn’t know if it was the seemingly endless amount of people, or the fact that he was about to undertake a huge, serious responsibility that would bind him for life, but either way, he was scared out of his wits and wanted out.

As he sat in his crisp, new tuxedo, staring blankly at the wall, he tried to think of what was next, but nothing was crossing his mind. For once, he wish he had a plan.

She, on the other hand, started to feel her old rigidly-stick-to-the-plan self make an appearance as she carried on with going to the honeymoon. She and Chris were to spend two weeks at the beach resort where they first met, reliving nostalgic memories as they created new ones, but that wasn’t possible now that she showed up to the front desk alone; her make-up was smudged, her elaborate hairdo was disheveled from the number of times she ran her hands through it, and her wedding dress was horribly wrinkled. She briefly caught how pathetic and pitiful she looked in one of the resort lobby’s mirrors, but that was the least of her problems at the moment.

Right now, what was important to her was handling the pain mercilessly coursing through her body, most especially since she had been derailed from her seemingly perfect plan and had to improvise.

Above all, she had to heal from the pain.

––

She wasn’t sure how long she held her breath, but it seemed like she held it as she recalled every last detail of the whirlwind romance that took a turn for the worst. It was surprising, but she neither felt even a tinge of pain nor bitterness towards her ex-lover all throughout– she had completely moved on, and perhaps, she had forgiven him for something she deemed unforgivable at one point. She hasn’t heard of him since that cold, fateful day, and she was sure that if she did while the internal wound was fresh, she would have cursed him out to the ends of the earth, but if she were to get the chance to speak to him at that exact moment, she would be unexpectedly magnanimous and even appreciative.

Exhaling deeply and smiling upon that realization, she mentally thanked Chris Hemsworth, wherever he may be on the globe and in life, knowing that the pain had thickened her skin and gave her a multitude of life lessons she would take with her for the rest of her life.

#chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth x reader #chris pratt #chris pratt x reader #chris evans #chris evans x reader #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #tw: angst

[lovelylogans]

love light gleams

previous chapter | chapter four | next chapter

part of the wyliwf verse.

the sideshire files | read my other fics | coffee?

warnings: food mentions, complicated parental relationships, teenage emancipation, emotional abuse, mentions of being disowned, mentions of transphobia and homophobia, classism, mentions of past underage drinking, crying, religious content (church, going to confession), remus cameo, mentions of choking/killing someone, something similar to the canon “have you thought about killing your brother?” monologue, please let me know if i’ve missed anything!

pairings: gen 

words: 57,686

notes: uh, this one’s heavy on the crying/angst/hurt comfort, folks, so tread carefully! take care of yourself!!

"you can just point," virgil says to logan, for the fifth time. "it's okay if you just... make any gesture ."

"um," patton says.

"he's going to pick which one it is," virgil says steadily, ignoring the fact that he's the last of the family who are picking a box from their pile. "i'm always last to pick anyway."

"it's true," says silas, "and why didn't i get to pick this year, again?"

"you'll like it, trust us," meredith says.

"yeah, but—"

"si," essie says, and she's the only one that patton's seen so far that gets no rebuttal for shortening his name, " trust us."

silas sighs, grumpy, and slouches over his (pretty sizeable) box.

"just one gesture," virgil wheedles to logan, adjusting him, and logan squalls in protest, throwing his pacifier. which happens to bounce off a purple box.

"you know what?" virgril says to logan, tilting his head. "joke's on you, i'm taking that as a choice, so there."

"i'll take him," patton says, amused, and he picks up logan's pacifier. "i'll meet you all upstairs, i'm just gonna rinse this off really quick."

they all nod, virgil picking up the carrier so that patton won't have to juggle it and an armful of baby, so patton makes a brief detour to the kitchen to wash and rinse off logan's pacifier. really, even with as clean as the diner is, it still touched the floor, so. 

patton ensures it's dry, before he makes an offer of it back to logan. apparently, since he's tossed it, he does not want it anymore, how dare you, and so patton takes a bit of time to walk around and get logan calm before he goes back upstairs, so that a fussy baby won't interrupt anything.

and, thank goodness, it seems like patton doesn't—mark is laughing, showing off one of the new aprons that was in the gift he chose, a mr. good lookin' is cooking one as freddie snorts to herself—so he settles in one of the chairs that's been pushed aside to make room for everyone in the middle of the room, the one next to where virgil's set down the baby carrier.

he carefully lowers logan into the carrier, holding his breath, and logan, thankfully, stays quiet. 

so patton curls up in the armchair and he watches the danes have family time. they open presents in an order that patton doesn't really get—freddie gets the latest book of world records, then essie gets some kitchen tools that make her go "ooh!" so it's not by age or anything—and it looks... really nice, honestly. all of them are clustered together in a messy kind of circle, watching as each person opens their gift of choice. so they go, and go, until—

"last but not least," mark prompts.

"finally," silas says, and begins tearing it open as he's talking. "i get to see why i couldn't pick and everyone else could," he's opening the top of the box, and patton notices everyone in the family grinning, "seriously, this better be..."

he trails off. he stares. his jaw drops, just a little, and patton watches as silas' eyes go wide, and a little shiny, and he seems to just get a little... softer.

"i," he says, falters, looks up and then back down at the present. "i—i don't—how did you even...?"

"well," meredith says, with a kind of benevolent, easy smile, and she reaches over to squeeze silas' arm and mark copies and they are so clearly being comforting or something to him, what is in that box?

and silas smiles, a real, genuine smile. it makes him look nice. it makes him look good. and for the first time all visit, patton notices how little silas has been smiling, or excited, and the glimpse of essie and silas on the mezzanine, and it hits him that... that maybe his problem was never really just with patton at all.

silas unearths it, and patton... well, patton doesn't know what he'd expected, really, but it's not what silas pulls out from the box. 

it's... a lego set. one of those big ones that make up a specific thing—patton can spy the millenium falcon, on the side, before silas wraps an arm around it, obscuring his view, but he's still smiling so much.

"i can't believe you got this for me," silas says.

"well, you begged for this, for years, and—" mark begins

"yeah, i," silas says, "i mean, it was—it was years ago, i never expected you to actually—"

"well, we promised, didn't we?" mark says, and simultaneously, silas ducks his head with a laugh, and patton feels like he's been punched in the stomach—

("—where were you?" patton asks. he's maybe seven, eight at oldest, and he's holding his skirt in his fist, tight, probably crumpling the material that his mother will yell at him for later, as if she has anything to do with the upkeep of their clothes, as if she won't just buy him a new one to dress him up in later.

"hm?" his dad asks, looking up from the papers, and patton clears his throat.

"where were you?" he repeats. "it was the school play today."

"oh," his father says absently. "was it?"

"you and mom promised you'd be there."

and neither of you showed up , he doesn't have to say. christopher's latest nanny dropping him off after a 'playdate' is enough evidence for that.

his father sighs, annoyed, and sets aside his papers. "your mother and i both had meetings, pumpkin, i couldn't very well skip it."

"but," patton says, floundering, unable to find words other than "but you promised."

"yes, well," his father says, "i'm sure there'll be another one. we can try and make the next one, darling, how about that?"

"but—" patton says, voice small, and his father nods, as if the whole situation is settled.

"why don't you run along, now? i have a lot to get finished, you know."

it's not a suggestion.

"okay," patton whispers, before he tries to swallow before he turns and runs out of his father's office, to fling himself upon his bed and sob, for no one to hear—)

a tiny voice in his head, with all the finality and gravity of the two paths of his future stretched out in front of him, says, i want logan to grow up with the kind of family that the danes' are.

and he does. he wants logan to grow up in a warm, loving family, with nicknames for each other, with him looking forward to spending time with his family, with christmas cookies and christmas movies and fights that always seem to get settled and don't leave him heart-achey and hurting for days at a time, with warm, happy time together that feels like it's out of a movie, with the kind of mystical warmth and christmas spirit that's easily within reach, with promises that always get fulfilled.

he wants logan to have that. he wants to be that for him. 

then, the voice continues, you can't get that with the family that you have, and patton can practically see the gilded gates back to his parents' house close, and it's almost anticlimactic, like there's been something in his heart that's known that was how his life was going to go as soon as he'd planted that note in logan's crib, and oh god, oh, god, he's going to be emancipated, he wants to be emancipated, he wants to make his own family and oh god oh god oh god oh god oh fuck—

what kind of person does that make him?!

and with that, as the whole danes family is entrenched in their happy moment with silas, patton stumbles blindly to his feet and staggers for the nearest escape he can manage—the mezzanine.

it's bitingly cold, but that's almost welcome as the wind nips at his cheeks and his nose and patton grabs for the wrought-iron railing so he doesn't fall to his knees, because his legs are shaking and he's shaking, so patton blindly grips tighter at the railing and feels the cold wind steal into him and it's almost welcoming as his stomach twists, full of nausea and self-hatred because what kind of person does that make him, what kind of person is he to throw aside his parents and run away and stay away and want a whole new family, what kind of horrible person is he to think about that on christmas eve, and so patton feels his fingers go numb and his nose get cold and there's tears on his face, he thinks, or maybe it's snowing and the cold is hitting his face and melting, he doesn't know, he just knows that it stings, and he deserves it, he deserves it he hasn't even missed them the closest he's come is to missing the apple tarts, the fucking pastry, patton has been missing pastry more than his own parents and they're never going to want to see him again they're never ever going to want to see him again and he's going to deserve it he deserves to stay out here and freeze and his parents would be right to never ever talk to him again and there's a click and a gust of warm air and a feminine voice saying "wondered where you" before falling off and patton lets out a hitching, terrible noise, and "oh, sweetheart" before the warm air goes away.

"i—all right, honey, is it okay if i touch you?"

patton manages a nod, and shudders as meredith pulls him into a hug; she's warm, and she only flinches a little when patton's cold nose makes contact with her skin, and she wraps him up in one arm, cradling his head with her other hand, and patton rests his head on her chest, forehead resting in the crook of her neck, pulled there, almost like a doll, because he's so busy crying, because it isn't snowing, he's been crying, that he can't really negotiate a hugging position.

"can you try to breathe with me, sweetheart?" she says.

and patton tries, he really, really does, except he can barely take in a breath like she is before it gusts out of him in sobs.

"i'm sorry, i'm s-sorry," he chokes out.

"it's all right, sweetheart, it's all right," she says. "you're trying, that's what matters. you're doing a good job."

he isn't, he's doing the opposite of a good job, he's doing a terrible job—

"okay. in again, here we go."

except patton keeps doing a terrible job, he can't even breathe right, how on earth is he supposed to manage a baby, he's going to emancipate himself and he can't even breathe it's pathetic he's pathetic and a terrible person and overemotional and stupid and too sensitive and he—

"patton," she says, and patton tries to gasp for breath.

"y—you don't have to stay," he sobs, in a sort of shuddering way, and she shushes him even as he continues, "i don't wanna r-ruin your christmas, you don't have—"

she shushes him again, and says, "you aren't ruining anything, sweetheart, you aren't ruining anything at all, we were just all saying goodbye when we noticed you hadn't been there for a while, that's all, you're all right—"

patton sobs again, and she brushes her hand through her hair, still breathing deep for him to try to copy.

another rush of warm air, and "patton," virgil says, hushed, concerned.

"could you make him some tea?" virgil's mother asks him.

"he hates tea," virgil retorts, without thinking, and patton nearly smiles. it's true. he does hate tea. he's kind of surprised that virgil's remembered that, though. nearly no one remembers the kinds of foods and drinks he likes and doesn't like.

"hot chocolate, then," meredith says, and there's a noise, and patton lifts his head, staring.

"logan—"

"i got him," virgil says. "i got him, don't worry, just—"

he leaves, and the door swings shut, and so patton doesn't really have much of a choice but to lie his head back onto meredith's shoulder and try to pull himself back together.

it turns out he gets exhausted more than anything else before he's capable of pulling himself together, meredith continually sweeping her hand through his hair. but he guesses that it must look like he's managed it well enough, because she draws back enough to look at him.

"are you all right?"

"logan," he mumbles, and she lets go of him. 

"we can check on him, if you'd like?"

he does. he really, really does. it's less of a he'd like to check on logan and more like he viscerally needs to check on logan. so she opens up the door for him and patton shuffles into the kitchen, looking around, and virgil glances up at him, logan in his arms.

"is he—?"

"yeah, he's good, just wanted some attention," virgil says. "we've just been kinda chilling. you want—?"

but patton's already reaching out to hold him before virgil can even finish the question, and logan makes an indignant sound of protest before he starts to settle again. patton takes some shaky breaths, holding on tight, staring down at his son.

i hope i'm making the right choice for you, patton thinks. but, again, there's that... there's that something in him. this is going to be hard, yes. this is going to suck a lot, yes. but he thinks... he thinks this is what's going to be best for logan. for them. he wants logan to grow up in this place where affection abounds, and everyone is so ready to reach out and help someone who needs it. he wants logan to grow up around the people in the inn. he wants logan to have a horde of honorary aunts and uncles and godparents. he wants logan to know virgil. he wants logan to know he has a loving family, even if it isn't his biological family, but the family they both choose.

he doesn't want logan to grow up expecting his dad to break promises.

patton leans down to press a kiss to logan's forehead, and logan makes a sleepy, content sound. well. at least one of them was easy to calm down, tonight. maybe they'll just swap off for the rest of time.

logan's forehead's very warm, and patton has a moment of panic, before he realizes that he's probably just freezing. he's spent god knows how long out on a balcony in the middle of winter, after all. 

there's a sound, ceramic against ceramic, and patton turns just a little to see virgil, managing to hold three mugs in his hands, before meredith sighs at him just a little and takes one.

"dramatic escape to bury myself and pretend that never happened isn't an option, is it," patton says wearily, and virgil huffs out a laugh.

"not really, but couch or kitchen is."

"um. couch, i guess."

patton moves to plunk the carrier on the coffee table, but virgil does it for him, and patton gives him a look before he sets logan down—he's pretty sure virgil's going to have him drink cocoa, so he needs free hands, and he'd probably feed him if it was any other day, but patton's still stuffed full of christmas dinner and three different kinds of pie.

and, true to form, virgil presses the biggest mug of cocoa into his hands, before he shakes out his throw blanket and wraps it around his shoulders. patton looks at him in surprise.

"it's cold," virgil says defensively, as he tucks him into it. 

"i guess," patton mumbles, and shifts where he's sitting, cradling the cocoa in his hands, letting the warmth seep into his palms. he keeps his eyes on it, too—much easier than meeting anyone else's eyes. god, way to make it all about you, patton.

"did we do something?" virgil asks hesitantly, and patton's neck just about cracks from how fast he looks up.

" no," he bursts out. "oh my goodness gracious, no, of course not, you guys have been great, i'm just—"

he chokes up, swallows, and gestures with the mug with a wordless kind of exhalation, and virgil and meredith nod like they understand. they're probably just being nice.

“logan cries all the time.” meredith says, suddenly.

“he’s a baby,” patton says miserably, pressing his fingers under his eyes to try and stop the tears from coming again. “that’s different.”

“is it?” meredith says. “when does he cry?”

something in patton shrinks. a question. and he’s going to get it wrong, because he gets everything wrong, because he’s an idiot, he’ll never be good for anything but—

“it’s not a trick question, i promise,” meredith says. “why does logan cry?”

patton bites at his lip, nervous, before he says timidly, “if he’s hungry.”

“good. when else?”

“um. if he needs to be changed, or—or if his colic’s acting up.”

“right,” meredith says. “babies cry when they need things.”

“are you saying i’m… a baby?”

“i’m saying that grown-up people—or teenage people—don’t change all that much from when they’re babies,” meredith says wryly. “would you get angry at logan for crying for something he needs? of course not.”

“but i shouldn’t,” patton says. “it’s—it’s christmas eve, you shouldn’t have to spend your christmas eve with me because i’m c-crying—”

“people cry, sometimes,” virgil says. 

“except i cry all the time now,” patton says wetly. “i’m s-sorry, this was st-st-stupid, i’m stupid, you sh-shouldn’t have to deal with me when i can’t stop crying, um, i’ll go—”

“ absolutely not,” virgil says, so firmly that it freezes patton from where he’d been about to stand. “this is not stupid, this is you reacting to something that is a seriously huge deal, okay? however you’re reacting, for however long, that is perfectly normal. okay? not bad, not strange, not stupid. ”

but i am , patton would say, but he can only look down at his hands in his lap and take in a shaky breath. 

"do you want to talk about it, sweetheart?" meredith asks, brow creased in concern.

"you don't have to, if you're uncomfortable," virgil says hastily, and he adds, "drink your cocoa, you look like you're freezing."

he takes a sip. unsurprisingly, it's delicious, creamy and rich and good, and so he takes another, deeper sip, and it's like it's warming him from the inside out. huh. turns out he is pretty cold. he ends up drinking about half of the cocoa in one go, then he cradles the mug in his hands again, staring.

well. this isn't when he'd wanted to tell virgil, but it isn't exactly when he'd wanted to have this realization and subsequent breakdown, either, so. patton's gonna have to take what he can get.

"i'm just," he repeats, and he hates how defeated his voice sounds.

"yeah?" virgil prompts softly.

"i—i haven't told you yet, but, um. maria put me in touch with a lawyer to maybe make the whole not-going-back-home thing, like. legal." he swallows. "permanent."

"oh," virgil says.

"yeah."

"i—when?"

"um," patton says, and wearily scrubs a hand across his face. "your birthday? i think that's when i got the—the document, anyway."

"oh," virgil says, and his voice is strange. he's staring at patton, and patton can't read the look on his face, and—

"please don't be angry," patton says, and his voice cracks.

"oh, patton, no, no no no no," virgil says, a tone of panic entering his voice when he notices that patton's started to cry again. "hey, patton, listen, it's okay, i'm not angry, i promise—"

"i'm sorry," patton chokes out, and he scrubs his sweater sleeve under his eyes. “you sh-should be mad at me.”

“well, i’m not, so there,” virgil says, and patton looks down at his cocoa again and tries to breathe deep, to calm himself down, except it comes out hitching and shaky and definitely like he’s still crying—

“aw, buddy,” virgil mutters, and hesitantly shuffles closer to put an arm around patton’s shoulders. patton sniffles, and takes the opportunity to bury his face from their staring, because really this is incredibly embarrassing and he doesn’t deserve comfort, but—

selfish, overemotional creature he is, he’ll take it. he’ll take it for as long as he can get it.

“i’m not gonna be in my family anymore,” patton sobs out.

“hey, that—that’s not true, necessarily,” virgil says. “you’re you, you could work something out—”

“i’m throwing anything nice they’ve ever done for me back in their face and spitting on it—”

“hey, no, no—”

“—because i kept so many secrets for so long and this included, i mean, i didn’t even tell you that i was thinking about being e-emancipated—”

“—which you’re totally allowed to do, if it’s what made you feel comfortable and safe—”

“why are you so nice to me?” patton bawls into his chest. “i’m a terrible person.”

“you’re a good person,” virgil says firmly, rubbing a comforting hand up and down his arm. “you are a good person. you just got dealt a really bad hand, and you’re trying to fix it with the tools you’ve got, okay? wanting some distance from your parents does not make you a bad person.”

“they’re gonna hate me,” patton bawls. “i’m an awful son and an ungrateful idiot and i’m a disaster and—”

virgil says, in an even, comforting voice, “you’re a good son, you are not ungrateful, you definitely aren’t an idiot, and, i mean, who can say they aren’t a disaster, sometimes? and they are not gonna hate you.”

“ i hate me.”

“hey, no, no, no,” virgil says firmly. “you are a good person, okay? you’re just going through a lot right now, and that’s okay. just—just let it out.”

and so patton falls apart, and anytime he thinks he’s close to regaining some kind of composure, he falls apart again, and again, and again, and he really doesn’t know how long he spends tear-staining virgil’s shirt, or how long he spends when meredith eventually moves to sandwich him between her and her son, or how long it takes until finally, at last, he gets dehydrated and cries himself into puffy, red eyes, unable to shed anymore tears even if he’d wanted to. 

at virgil’s gentle urging, he finishes another mug of cocoa (the one he’d had before had long since grown cold) and, as he’s staring at the dregs, he swallows.

“i should go,” he says.

“yeah, uh, no,” virgil says. “there’s no way in hell i’m letting you be alone right now.”

a beat, the sense that meredith glowers at virgil over patton’s head, and then he adds, “um, that, except, like, pretend i was more sensitive about it.”

“you don’t have to—”

“patton,” he says. “i would not let anyone who just cried on my shoulder be alone after, let alone you. i mean, you could stay here, if you want. you could go with my mom, if you want. just—just don’t go back to the poolhouse. or at least, if you’re going, i’m gonna go with you.”

“i—”

“patton,” he says. “it’s christmas eve. just for tonight, i can help look after logan and we can tell him about santa, or we can eat leftover cookies and cocoa, or you can just go to sleep, or whatever, just… don’t be alone. please. ”

patton hesitates. on one hand, he’s kind of embarrassed that he broke down this much in front of virgil and his mom, who patton barely knows, really. on the other hand…

well, on the other hand. he doesn’t want to be alone right now. he really, really doesn’t. and he loves logan, loves him more than he could ever have imagined loving someone, but… well, logan is a baby. he’s not exactly company.

patton chews his lip, before he says, “i don’t have anything to wear.”

“you can borrow some of my old clothes for pajamas, if you want,” virgil says immediately, back straightening up a little, like he’s paying closer attention. “and, um—”

“i can drop by your place to pick up clothes or anything the baby needs and swing by early tomorrow,” meredith says. “mark and i were planning on swinging by early anyway, really, to see if virgil needs any help with breakfast.”

“oh,” patton says. “i—okay. yeah. that works. thank you.”

“do you have a preference? for the clothes i should grab, i mean.”

“oh. i mean, i—i have a box of sweaters? any one of those should work,” patton says. “it should be right by the door. i can just re-wear these pants.”

“box of sweaters, got it,” meredith says. “do you want anything else? water, more cocoa?”

“no thank you.” 

“all right, then,” she says, and gently squeezes his shoulder, rubbing her thumb briefly over his shoulder blade before she rises to her feet and gathers the empty mugs in her hands. “i’ll just drop these off in the kitchen, then.”

she rises to her feet and, with that, logan, patton, and virgil are on their own.

“um,” virgil says. “so, i could. i could grab some stuff for pajamas now, if you want. or we could explain the miracle of christmas to logan. or—”

“pajamas sounds good,” patton says. “i—i kind of just want to go to sleep.”

well, really, it’s less of a i want to go to sleep and more like this was so embarrassing and i really don’t want anyone to look at me right now, but. sure. sleep sounds good too.

“yeah,” virgil says, getting to his feet. “yeah, of course. um—follow me.”

it’s not like patton really needs the direction—this is a one-bedroom apartment, after all—but patton picks up logan’s carrier and obediently plods after him anyway.

virgil’s room is dark, and tiny. there’s a pile of blankets on the bed, messy, which shows patton that virgil doesn’t really make his bed in the morning. there’s a couple discarded clothing items on the ground, like the purple flannel he wore yesterday, and the black hoodie he wore the day before that, but other than that, the room’s pretty tidy, with a few frames dotting the walls, the windowsills, and the top of the dresser, which virgil is now digging around in, so patton can’t see them.

however, he can tell that there are some framed posters on the wall, and patton smiles a little. bands that, a couple weeks ago, he’d been surprised to learn virgil really liked, some art that fits the dark kind of vibe, and—

“disney guy, huh?”

“oh, yeah,” virgil says, and awkwardly smiles at him a little over his shoulder. “um, don’t spill my secrets.”

“cross my heart.” patton says, and does so with the hand that isn’t holding logan’s carrier. 

“okay, so,” virgil says. “um. you know where the bathroom is, here, i’ll take logan so you can get ready for bed. i think i’ve got a spare toothbrush in the cabinet under the sink.”

mostly on autopilot, patton hands over the carrier and accepts the clothes that virgil sets in his arms. he goes into virgil’s bathroom. he closes the door. he plants his hands on the counter, and stares at himself in the mirror.

jesus, he looks awful.

his eyes are red and puffy, his cheeks flushed and patchy, tear-streaked and exhausted. the bags under his eyes are about as deep as they’ve ever been, patton thinks, and that’s just his face and not even going into the rest of his body, which patton has a much more complicated relationship with, and this is not the time to get into this he doesn’t think he could cry again but he doesn’t want to risk it, so. he turns his back to the mirror, and shakes out the clothes that virgil’s grabbed for him.

they. are. massive. they are so big. like, patton knows that virgil’s taller than him—patton thinks he’s almost exactly a foot taller than him—but it’s almost a whole other thing to hold one of virgil’s old shirts up to his body and watch as the hem falls practically to his knees.

okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. but it’s not a huge one.

he keeps his back to the mirror as he changes—honestly, it’s fortunate that he’d worn one of the really comfy nursing bras that are meant for sleeping anyway—and ends up drawing the elastic drawstring of the sweatpants as tight as they’ll go, shoving them high on his hips so they can at least catch on the wider part of his belly, because if he wears them like he wears his normal pants they’ll undoubtedly fall down. and even then, patton has to bend to roll up the hem of the sweatpants, so he won’t trip and fall over them. patton usually wears bigger, baggier clothes (hurrah dysphoria) but this is above and beyond patton’s usual fare.

it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t like it, though. he likes it a lot. under this black t-shirt advertising a sideshire winterfest from a few years back, there is only the vaguest suggestion of a body, no telling what gender. the clothes are well-worn and cozy, and patton feels oddly comforted at the sensation of them. (even men’s clothes feel better on him than clothes made for women. he isn’t sure if that’s the sexism or if it’s him being trans, but, honestly. the presence of pockets alone are such a gigantic benefit.)

so, after having splashed some cold water on his face and brushed his teeth with the fresh-from-the-plastic-packaging toothbrush that he’d found tidily tucked away along with enough spare toothpaste, shampoo, and soap to last virgil probably until he’s forty, he emerges back into virgil’s bedroom to see him wrestling with a fitted sheet.

“what are you doing?” patton asks, going to peek briefly at logan’s sleeping face from where he’s safely tucked away in a corner—probably the best place for him, really, if he’d been put on the top of the dresser there was the slightest chance that logan might fall, which is a chance that patton doesn’t want to take, and anywhere else in the room there might be a chance that he’ll get stumbled over, or, god forbid, stepped on, so—

“putting down fresh sheets for you,” virgil says, and scowls at the corner he’d just tucked under, as if ensuring that it’ll stay through willpower and intimidation alone. “sorry, i don’t have very many super clean blankets, but i just washed these last weekend so they should be okay—”

patton frowns. “i’m not kicking you out of your bed.”

“that’s right,” virgil says, “ i’m kicking me out of my bed.”

“virgil—” patton begins in a sigh, but virgil’s already shaking his head.

“think about it logically,” he points out. “you have quickest access to the bathroom from here, which means quickest access to a surface that logan might need to be changed on. if you need water or anything, sink’s right there. if you need some privacy to feed logan, you’ve got it—”

“but—” patton tries.

“patton,” virgil says. “i know for a fact that your ‘bed’ in the poolhouse is just a busted old pull-out bed. please just take the chance to sleep in a real, actual bed for the first time in nearly two months.”

patton hesitates.

“consider it a christmas gift,” virgil says, and patton sighs in defeat.

“all right,” he says. “okay, fine. one night.”

“hey, that’s all i ask,” virgil says, and takes a step back. “okay, i think i managed it fine. if it tries to mummify you just yell for help.”

patton huffs out a laugh and extends his leg, so virgil can see how many times he’d had to roll them up. “if your clothes don’t do that first, you giant.”

“i’m 6’2”, that’s normal enough,” virgil says mildly. “you’re just a shrimp.”

“i am not a shrimp!”

“you’re, what, five foot even?” virgil says, and it’s so clear that he’s been joking to try and get patton to smile, but right now it’s just genuine joking for the sake of joking, not even a little pitying.

“five feet, two inches, and a quarter ,” patton says, and jabs a finger in his direction. “do not discount the quarter.”

“yeah, i guess when you’re that tiny, you take what you can get,” virgil says, and patton huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“you know,” he says, “i’m not even done growing yet.”

“a common defense.”

“ especially when i get back on t,” patton continues. “i’ll grow more then. i might even grow a whole foot. ”

huh. when i get back on t. not if, not a potential, distant, hazy future thing. when i get back on t. that’s nice to realize, patton thinks. being able to resume transition, that’s something to look forward to in his future, too. so that’s two things on the list. logan, and transitioning.

“that sounds like a whole lot of excuses, for a shrimp,” virgil says. 

okay, three things. logan, transitioning, and gloating to virgil when patton towers over him. 

“i might even be taller than you and then you’ll be sorry.” patton says, shaking his fist up at virgil jokingly. 

“oh, i tremble in fear of the day,” virgil says dryly. “i bet you could team up with the baby, logan might give you some much-needed height.”

“he’s twenty-one inches,” patton says, “so you know what? give us a bit of time, when he’s able to hold up his head reliably i can put him on my shoulders and we can—”

“put on a trench-coat and pretend to be an adult so you can try to buy a ticket to an r-rated movie?” virgil says, and patton weakly punches virgil’s arm even as he laughs, and they settle into comfortable quiet.

until—

“virgil?”

“yeah?”

“um—thanks,” he says, looking at virgil sidelong, and virgil’s looking at him, all quiet and respectful and not even a little pitying, like patton had almost been a little afraid of happening. brown eyes a little shiny, even in the dim light, but steady, and warm. “for—for this.” 

“hey,” virgil says. “what are friends for, right?”

“not just, like, the pajamas, and the bed,” patton continues, “for all of this. the christmas, the food, the helping with logan, and the—the everything. ”

a tiny, special kind of smile quirks virgil’s lip.

“i don’t know how i’ll ever be able to pay you back,” patton continues.

“this isn’t a thing to pay back,” virgil says, “you know that, right? that none of this is anything to pay back? all the stuff people do here—they’re doing it to be nice, not because they’re expecting some kind of retribution. well, i mean, they’re probably expecting you to be nice back, but i don’t think you’ll have much trouble with that, since you’re a nice person, so—”

“yeah, well,” patton says, staring at his bare feet, as the sweatpants he’d so dutifully rolled up are starting to puddle around his ankles. “still. thanks.”

“i mean, hey,” virgil says, even softer. “what are friends for, right?”

⁂

meredith watches as her son cautiously tiptoes out of his bedroom, and from the stillness beneath his hoodie that he’s holding his breath. he eases the door painfully, slowly shut, before he turns to her.

“they’re asleep,” he informs her, barely above a whisper.

“good,” meredith says back, in the same tone. “that’s good. let’s go downstairs, i don’t want to risk waking them.”

virgil nods, taking a moment to drop some of his spare blankets on the couch, before he obediently plods behind her, down the stairs, into the diner that once bore her name. none of the other children are there; mark must have sent them along, back to the inn. 

however, mark glances up at the sound of footsteps, taking a moment to hastily finish his sip of tea before setting aside the mug. meredith’s not a betting woman, but if she were, she’d put her bets on lemon balm; most nights, since freddie was born, he’s had a mug of the stuff to wind down before bed. meredith’s more of a chamomile woman, herself.

which is exactly what’s in the mug he nudges before her, and she smiles at him in thanks. it’s probably a bit strained around the edges. she’s going to need a boatload of chamomile to calm herself down, tonight.

“is everything all right?” mark asks mildly, clearly posing it more to virgil than her, and virgil shifts even as he slides into the booth across from them.

“uh,” virgil says. “so, turns out. patton’s been considering getting emancipated and he just now decided that he’s gonna go through with it.” 

“oh,” mark says, and sets aside the teacup with a definite clinking sound onto the table. “dear me. that’s quite a step further than you mentioned when we talked.”

“yeah, since i didn’t know,” virgil says, and accepts the mug of tea that meredith pushes toward him—boy knows better than to refuse his mother food or drink. it doesn’t help the dejected look on his face. “i didn’t even—i just thought he was having trouble sleeping, how did i not know how un-okay he was?”

“oh, virgil—” mark begins.

“i should have noticed,” virgil says. “he comes here almost every day and i didn’t even notice how upset he was until he was having a breakdown on my balcony—”

“cinnabun,” mark says. “it’s very nice that you’re looking out for this boy, but you aren’t a mind-reader. none of this is your fault.”

“of course it’s not,” meredith says. “virgil knows that. don’t you, virgil?”

he should know that. the ways virgil has been helping that poor teenager and that baby, from what she heard through mark, after they met the poor boy for the first time, and maria, when meredith had wrangled her into coffee, is proof enough for that, let alone all the little day-to-day things that she hasn’t heard, that she knows her son is capable of giving. tough exterior, her virgil, with a soft center. he’s the best of the both of them, meredith thinks, briefly bumping her shoulder against mark’s. all of their children are.

but virgil hesitates for just a moment too long, and mark puts his hand on meredith’s before she demand to know why on earth he thinks that it’s his fault, of course it’s not his fault, didn’t he see how much he was helping?

“some people,” mark says, “are very, very good at hiding when they don’t feel okay. you can’t help someone when they’re hiding it. and it certainly isn’t your fault if you don’t see it, at first. that isn’t your fault. you aren’t the one who hurt him. what matters is that you’re doing what you can.”

“i still didn’t see it,” virgil says. “i mean, you—you always see it. with everyone. ”

“not always,” mark says. “not with you.”

meredith leans a little harder into her husband’s side.

of the two of them, mark’s always been the sensitive one. always, always. she was the one who brought him flowers on the first date, he was the one to swoon and go sappy over romantic gestures, she was the one who had awkwardly mumbled out a response to his first “i love you,” too unequipped to actually respond properly. he was the one who cried during sad movies, to be swayed to adopting some poor unfortunate animal. he was the emotionally adept one. 

he’s the person that people went to advice. he’s the person he’d be the person to quietly intercede and discuss matters with a diner attendant, and she’d come back to someone crying on her husband’s shoulder. it’s like he has a sixth sense. 

so not cottoning on to the fact that so many of virgil’s teenage behavioral issues were rooted in some deep, emotional conflicts? his own son?

mark had taken it hard. they both had, of course, they’d both had their moments in the aftermath of virgil’s diagnosis wondering if there was somewhere they’d gone wrong, relentlessly backtracking their memories to see each and every opportunity they had missed to reach out to virgil and intercede sooner. but for mark, it had been a whole other level. how could i not see him? he’d asked her bleakly, one night. how could i do that to him? how did we not know as soon as he started acting out? how could i have possibly failed him like that?

meredith had, perhaps, seen that her husband had taken it hard, and moved to blame the only outward source she could. oh, of course, in retrospect, she knows that remus duke was only a little older than essie and silas, but…

but.

her husband had been hurting. her husband is the emotional one, the soft one. of the pair, she’s always been the angry one, the defensive one, the fighter. for better or worse.

virgil looks into his cup of tea, and mark’s hand moves to squeeze his wrist.

“i’m not trying to blame you,” he says, quiet but firm. “you were hurting. you did what you thought would help. i didn’t understand. what matters is—and i hope you agree—we did what we could to help you when we did understand.”

“you did,” virgil says.

“and that’s what matters,” meredith says. 

“i hardly think you’re just going to abandon that boy and that baby because he’s just now told you about something that’s bothering him,” mark adds.

“of course not,” virgil says, a little offended.

“well, there you go,” meredith says. “you can’t change the past, you can only keep moving forward.”

“emile says the same thing,” virgil says, and then his eyes widen. “i’m an idiot.”

“what? no, you’re not,” meredith says heatedly. if emile picani has taken a sudden turn to cruelty she’ll march right in there and—

“ emile, ” virgil says, and opens and closes his hand. “someone has to have a pen—”

meredith takes one out of her pocket—waitress hobbies run deep—and virgil scribbles a few times on the corner of a napkin to get the ink flowing. meredith tilts her head in order to read what her son is scrawling.

emile picani, the address, phone number, and he’s my therapist. i know he has experience with emancipation stuff and he does pro-bono confidential stuff for teenagers, if you ever want someone else to talk to about everything. he’s a bit weird (really into cartoons) but he’s a really good guy. 

“just so he has the info,” virgil explains, folding the napkin into a crisp square. “god, i can’t believe i didn’t think of emile until now.”

meredith frowns. “haven’t you been seeing him lately?”

virgil shrugs. “holiday hours, for the both of us,” and, presumably because he can see the pair of them gearing up for a lecture, “i had an appointment in november and i’ve got an appointment sometime in the middle of january, i’m still taking my meds, i’m doing pretty okay on the whole anxiety front, promise.”

“pretty okay?” meredith repeats. she’d sure hope that her son was doing a lot better than pretty okay. she’s really hoping that all of her children are deliriously happy.

“kinda hard to be like yeah, i’m doing real good with anxiety, mom,” he points out, and she cedes the point.

oh, not for forever, of course. she’ll be asking after him whenever she can get him alone. but she’ll cede it for now.

“do you think he’ll go?” mark asks.

“i’ll encourage it, and i’m sure if i mention it to maria, she will too,” virgil says. “i’ll make sure and grab one of his pro-bono cards so that patton knows it won’t be too expensive or anything. so. we’ll see.”

he pauses, before he says, “i think it’d be really good for him to, y’know. talk to someone about everything. having a kid, running away. his parents.”

aaaand that’s what makes meredith snap.

“ parents,” she hisses. 

“mer,” mark begins, with the distinct tone of now, let’s keep our heads, but meredith shakes off any of that, because—

“what kind of parents raised him to think you’d be angry at him for being upset,” meredith snarls. 

“shitty ones,” virgil agrees, scowling, and meredith jabs a finger at him in agreement as mark sighs at him for swearing, before doubling down and saying “real fuckin’ shitty ones.”

“virgil,” mark says, in warning.

“he’s right,” meredith says. “mark, if you’d seen how upset he was—”

well, patton would have gotten calmer a lot faster, probably. mark was always better with crying than her—even back when the kids were all babies. the only surefire way she could calm them down when he couldn’t was when it came to feeding time.

“they are his parents,” mark says.

“which is exactly what he would say,” meredith points out. “what, just because they’re his parents, he should tolerate them treating him badly?”

“of course i’m not saying that,” mark says, placatingly. 

“virgil,” meredith says. “how bad did that boy have it, before he got here?”

virgil hesitates. meredith leans forward.

“i need to know if i should swear to kill them or not,” she says, joking only a little. virgil’s lip quirks, ever so slightly, so she guesses she’s succeeded.

“but, seriously,” she continues, “we’re all thinking the same thing, right? about helping patton give logan a great first christmas, by giving patton a great first christmas away from home?”

virgil nods.

“right then,” meredith says. “is there anything we should know?”

“he hasn’t told me tons,” he cautions them. “and this—y’know. this should be kept quiet. as far as i know, it’s—it’s just maria and me who know this stuff.”

“if you’d be betraying confidences,” mark begins, but virgil huffs out a breath.

“i was kind of planning on going to see emile about it anyway,” and oh, even if the sobbing, near-hysterical teenager hadn’t been a hint, that’s another big one. though this is something that, admittedly, she and virgil might not see eye-to-eye on, virgil’s therapy habits are sound. meredith thinks he should go more frequently; virgil makes appointments sparingly, to discuss things that really weigh on his mind. he tends to rely on other coping mechanisms before he goes to therapy.

planning to go see emile about something was a surefire sign that virgil was, well. anxious.

mark exchanges a look with her—clearly, he’s come to the same conclusion—and meredith takes a sip of her tea, mostly for show. she can barely even taste it.

“so,” meredith says. “patton’s… history.”

virgil sighs, a long, gusting breath, and traces his pinky once, twice, thrice around the rim of his mug, trying to gather his words together.

“patton’s family is rich,” virgil says bluntly. “ really rich. sickeningly rich. i looked up a few of the organizations that patton mentioned his mom was a part of and this one art piece that patton said they had in his house that he hated and they’ve got to be, like. i don’t want to ask patton and pry too deep, but they’ve gotta be multi-millionaires, easy. that might even be the low end of the prediction spectrum.”

“oh,” mark says, and meredith wonders if his mouth has gone as dry as hers has. multi-millionaires. well, you wouldn’t predict that just by looking at patton, with his secondhand sweaters and ill-fitting jeans and also the fact that he lives in a poolhouse . “goodness me.”

“yeah,” virgil says. “so. i dunno what patton’s dad does exactly, he told me but i kind of forgot. i think it’s insurance or banking or something, and his mom is on like a million committees, and they’re old money, i guess, so they pride themselves on contributing to society or whatever. stereotypical snooty rich people. you know the type.”

not personally —it’s not like stereotypical rich people tend to frequent diners—but as a business owner, meredith knew the type, or at least, the kids of those related to the type. convinced that since they were born with a silver spoon in their mouths, their lives were just as hard as the lives of families like meredith’s, who’d had to count pennies and struggled their way to each payday just to barely scrape by. and that they were better than people like her and her family, and that they had one something to deserve their amount of privilege and fortune rather than just hit the lottery in the genetic draw.

“anyway. so. his parents…”

virgil huffs out a breath, and takes another deep one in, and meredith probably shouldn’t be surprised that he looks like he’s fighting to keep calm. usually, he doesn’t take after her in conflicts; that is to say, virgil’s never been very shouty.

“his parents,” meredith repeats, trying to urge him onward. 

who patton wants to separate himself from legally, and felt the need to run away with a newborn , and is willing to give up all those multi-millions of dollars just to get away from them. meredith feels a creeping sense of dread in her stomach.

“i hate them,” virgil spits out, and then an almost-surprised look at his own vitriol that flashes across his face, before he doubles down. “i mean—jesus, i’m twenty-three, and i know that it isn’t a good parenting move to keep telling your kid their life plan that’s detailed down to the very college dorm and expect them to keep at it perfectly despite the fact that he’s his own person, for fuck’s sake,” and he’s off.

it’s evident that an appointment with emile is probably the right call for all of this, because how was virgil supposed to help a sixteen-year-old kid? it’s not like virgil’s in the habit of making friends with sixteen-year-olds, since he’s twenty-three, but patton has so few people on his side, not even his own parents, so virgil’s all in for him and that tiny little baby that are both asleep upstairs.

it’s evident that an appointment with emile is probably the right call for all of this, because virgil had no idea how to strategize how to help this poor homeless kid, who sleeps on an old pull-out couch (maria had said that the latest mattress to get harmed in some way was going straight to patton but how often did an inn guest harm their mattress?!) and won’t let people lend him any money and virgil’s trying as much as he can, giving him a newly-invented family-and-friends discount and inviting him to do some odd jobs at the diner on the weekends just so he could make sure that he’s getting fed and has some money to save and how is he supposed to help when patton was so wary of it?

it’s evident that an appointment with emile is probably the right call for all of this, because how was virgil supposed to help patton transition into learning that being treated with kindness wasn’t a debt to pay and that not everyone has it out to lecture him about every little thing he does wrong.

it’s evident that an appointment with emile is probably the right call for all of this, because meredith’s about ready to take the car and drive into the city to give them a piece of her mind. meredith doesn’t want patton near those people, but if she ever has the opportunity to meet them—

“i’ll kill them,” meredith says, cold and bleak, and virgil meets her eyes.

and, for maybe the first time she’s ever made that threat, she isn’t sure how much she’s kidding.

from the glint in virgil’s eyes, she’s pretty sure that he doesn’t know how much he’s kidding, either.

mark, always the level-headed one, lays his hand over hers.

“hey, now,” he says, and then, “that’s hardly in the christmas spirit, is it?”

“i don’t feel particularly christmassy,” virgil mutters. 

meredith can’t help but agree. christmas is supposed to be about laughing children, the glee of tearing shiny wrapping paper off that gift you weren’t expecting and yet was so perfect that you should have been expecting all along, cuddling with her husband on the couch with a warm mug of (spiked) eggnog in her hands, watching their children play and talk as they bounced around with the boundless energy of youth that only seemed escalated by a christmas morning, the solemn beauty of a congregation singing christmas hymnals, the warm feeling of all of humanity taking a day, just a day, to remember that they’re all in this together and to reflect on what’s important: family, and friends, and kindness, and good will to all.

christmas wasn’t supposed to be heartbroken, abandoned, homeless teenagers. christmas wasn’t supposed to be screaming babies. christmas wasn’t supposed to be about missing something that he should have had to sever himself from. christmas wasn’t breakdown after breakdown. christmas was supposed to be a lot of things, but not sad. never, ever sad. 

and, meredith thinks with a surge of that old, familiar anger, it wasn’t about to be. she wouldn’t let that happen.

she’s on her feet before she even realizes it, and both mark and virgil blink up at her in surprise.

“we all agreed that we invited patton to our family christmas because we wanted him to have a great one,” she says, shrugging on her coat and grabbing her purse. “so, we’re going to give him a great one.”

“uh—i mean, sure, mom, that sounds great,” virgil says. “but it’s nearly midnight on christmas eve. what—how are we going to do that?”

meredith smiles, letting it unfurl on her face.

“oh, god, no, i know what that look means,” mark says, then, slightly more pleading, “meredith, honey, it’s christmas. ”

“what?” virgil says. “what does it mean?”

“it means,” meredith says, smiling as wide as she can, “that i’m going to go and raise hell as a special christmas treat for taylor doose.”

#my post #text #the sideshire files #my fic #my fanfic #sanders sides #love light gleams

[redbrickisaac]

Author’s Note: This is my attempt to get myself out of my teen wolf writing slump and also my submission for @sumcp ‘s Writing Challenge. 

Prompt: “It’s okay, you don’t have to love me.”

Pairing: Isaac x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: angst, curses, near-death experience, cheesiness

Word Count: >1K 

Musical Inspiration: “Earned It” - The Weeknd

  It’s spring when you notice it.

The pack is different than it used to be. It’s not just a bunch of scraggly teenagers forced to group together for the sake of survival anymore. There are cliques within your clique, pairings. Erica with Boyd, Liam with Hayden, Mason with Corey. There’s not one but two love triangles going on. One between Stiles, Lydia, and Derek and the other containing Scott, Allison, and Kira. Even Theo and Malia have a strange sexual tension that seems like it’s leading somewhere. The only people who aren’t paired up seem to be you and Isaac.

He notices you noticing and he takes a long, contented look at the group with a serene tilt to his lips. This is his family, the only one he has anymore and he seems unbothered by the pairings. His gaze returns to you and he smiles.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to love me.”

He says it as a joke.

You smile and look away. At the time, you don’t expect those words to come back to haunt you.

*

It’s summer when things change again.

A massive heatwave hits Beacon Hills causing temperatures to spike and tempers to flare. Theo and Malia finally fall into each other after an explosive argument in front of the whole group. Their tension culminating in something passion-fueled and hungry. You knew it was inevitable but somehow, it still surprises you.

The pack spends a lot of time at the pool Stiles and Lydia talked Derek into behind his newly rebuilt house in the Preserve. The pack’s house now. You suspect he could have held out against Stiles alone, but no one says no to Lydia, especially if she’s got them by the dick (which she decidedly does).

Lounging by the pool would be a lot more comfortable if there weren’t so much exposed skin. So many lingering touches as packmates pass each other. And there you are alone on your deck chair. You try to swallow your envy but it’s not as easy as you wish it was.

“Hey.” A shadow falls over you and you lift your sunglasses to see Isaac looking down at you, something tense about his expression. “Wanna swim with me?”

You could say no and keep wallowing in your self-pity, or you could accept his offer and allow yourself to have a little fun. “Sure.”

You follow him to the pool and splash in beside him. He spends the next couple of hours entertaining you.

Later, at night, when the rest of the pack slips into each other’s rooms, you know it’s still just a distraction when Isaac shows up at your door. He looks at you without expectation and you open your door wider, inviting him inside.

When he kisses you, it helps you forget how alone you are. When he touches you, it helps you feel something besides cold desperation. And when you pull back, worried that you can’t do this, can’t use him this way, he licks his lips and promises that ‘it’s okay, you don’t have to love me’.

You search his gaze as he waits for you to decide, to figure out if you want this. You don’t just want it, you need it, need him. So you kiss him and then just… don’t stop.

*

There are flowers blooming on the ground again when the Fae attack the Preserve. They like their curses, the Fae, and they hit half the pack with a killing curse before the rest of you run them off. It’s slowly draining the life from the affected members of the pack and Kira is nearly lost before Stiles’ research reveals how traditional Fae magic is and well, every story starts with a kernel of truth apparently. Even fairytales it seems. It turns out ‘true love’s kiss’ is actually a plausible cure for a curse if it’s brought on by Fae magic. Luckily, everyone in the pack has someone to kiss them to put a stop to their curse. Everyone, that is, except Isaac.

He lies on the couch while the whole pack stares at the two of you. They know you’ve been sleeping together for a while now, but they don’t know the promise Isaac made. The one he still makes now when he grips your hand weakly and tells you, voice cracked and dying, that ‘it’s okay, you don’t have to love me’.

Tears fall from your eyes because every time he said those words, you heard ‘I don’t want you to love me’. And you thought that maybe it was because he could never love you back. It’s only as he’s dying, letting you off the hook for not loving him, that you realize, maybe he thought he wasn’t worth loving either.  

You lean in slowly and press your lips to his, a dry, chaste little thing that still manages to convey the depth of your feelings. Because it brings the color back to his cheeks, the breath back to his lungs. He stares at you in wonder as he slowly regains his strength.

“You love me?” He asks as though he can’t believe it.

“It’s okay,” you say with a watery sigh. “You don’t have to love me.”

“I do,” he confesses, gathering you in his arms. “God, I love you,” he breathes out like it’s a relief to finally say it.

It’s a relief to hear it.

He holds you for the rest of the night, gazing at you with all the love he possesses and you wonder how you missed it for so long.

It’s the way he’s always looked at you. Right from the start.

#isaac imagine #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #angst imagine #this is my big return friends #if you're still there #sumcpWC

[luci-is-a-devil-]

Death Over Feathers| Joshua Hong |

Death over feathers Notes: So I don’t usually post stories like this but this one was interesting, or at least I thought so. I hope you enjoy! Requests are open. word count: 2,157 warnings: death and slight angst ————————————————- ”I hate you.” Three words, eight letters, an awkward pause. An eternity of remembering that those were your final words to your best friend. A petty fight that could’ve been avoided, instead bottled up feelings came out of nowhere and the two of you were engaged in a screaming match. Pedestrians looked in horror or amusement at two teens yelled at each other. Whispers of calling the cops could be heard, leaving you to say those eight letters, before turning around and stomping off. Even in your anger you looked both ways, before stomping across the walkway. Well, getting halfway before a speeding car hit you. You felt your body lift off the ground, feeling stuck on the car until the driver hit the brakes, leaving you to slump on the floor. People say that when you die, you see you life flash in front of you, that’s not what happened, or at least to you that’s not what happened. Memories of thing you should’ve, could’ve said flooded into your head. Times you could’ve said you loved people, or that your last words would be something rude. Excruciating pain came after, not for long though, it stopped as soon as you heard the ambulances sirens in the distance. You’d like to say it was exactly how cartoons showed, that your ghost self rose out of your dead body, but that’s not what happened. You felt like you were being pulled out of you body instead, this was more painful than the car. But when you were out, translucent and everything, you were not in the street, you weren’t even in the same country. You were in hell, probably, there wasn’t a sign that exactly told you your destination. So here you were, in an empty field, where there was a sun and moon in the sky, the sound of water nearby. What looked like an angel and devil appeared, or maybe not, they didn’t have name tags saying what and who they were. “No, we’re an angel and devil. You’re right, usually I’d say not to assume but stop being so damn indecisive.” The devil spoke, his pale pink lips were drawn into a smirk, his brown orbs twinkling with mischief. “I’m sorry you must have the wrong person, I’m not right, I’m y/n.” Smirking when you saw the devil roll his eyes at your awful pun, only to hear the angle cackle. “Shut up Seokjin, that was awful.” The devils voice sounded bored but his face betrayed him as his lips were curling at the sides, beginning to smile. “That’s what makes it great, Yoongi!” The angel had stopped cackling, leaving him to gasp for air as he spoke. His own brown eyes turned into crescents, his pearly white teeth on display as he giggled after he spoke. “As much as I love romantic banter, what’s going on? I mean, I know I’m dead but why are we in a field?” Both of them had glared at you for the first part, yoongi’s was the only one that held any kind of meanness to it, barely. “You died, glad you knew that much at least. Apparently you’re an asshole but also a good person so it’s your choice to pick where you want to go.” Yoongi managed to speak first, making Seokjin roll his own eyes at the devil. “What would I do in either? Like would I be tortured in hell, cause I’m not into that.” Seokjin spluttered at what you said, making Yoongi laugh crudely at him, clutching his stomach as he doubled over, his black feather wings moving with every chuckle. You raised an eyebrow at him, rolling an eye before placing your eyes on Seokjin, who had managed to compose himself, to the best of his abilities that is, his cheeks and ears were a pink. (Which confused you, isn’t he dead?) “We’re guardians, people who are good or bad but not enough to be in a higher position. As you guide people you get wings, and you can move up in positions. But that matters on how well you guide.” Seokjin answered showing his own pure white wings as an example, making you smile at them, as it was obvious he was proud of them. “So I’d be a guardian? What’s the difference of being a devil guardian and an angel one?” Yoongi sighed, not pleased that you were asking so many question, but he answered you anyway. “Not much, black wings or white wings, where you live, although we have some stray angels who live in hell, cheaper, all of us want our humans happy and healthy.” “In the older times devil guardians would advise their humans to do evil, but that died off in the nineties.” Seokjin added his own input, smiling sweetly at Yoongi who shook his head at him, hiding the small smile on his face. “I’ll go with a devil then, I’ve never been good with rules so I’d end up there anyway.” You shrugged at Seokjin, who smiled at you and thanked you for listening and that he’d hope to see you again. Before he left, you swore he whispered in yoongi’s ear that he’d better take care of you or there would be no dinner for him. And like that Seokjin was gone, leaving a white feather floating down slowly, you held out your hand, and gracefully it landed on your palm. “Let’s go kid, ya got a lot to learn.” With a snap of yoongi’s pale fingers you weren’t in the empty field anymore, the moon and sun were no longer in the sky, instead the above was painted shade of red. Black clouds lingered in the red sky, making you think that it was to look pretty, as there was no sun for the clouds to block. Another devil was next to you, who smiled when he saw Yoongi and you. He unlike Yoongi, looked approachable, less willing to murder you and than tell the police bluntly about the truth of the crime. His wings were smaller than the black haired male, his hair was a lilac with silver accents to it, his cheeks had dimples that reminded you of the craters in the moon, his skin was a sun kissed tan that made his dimples stand out even more. “Namjoon, show the kid around. I have a duo that needs to be yelled at.” “Just let them have their fun, hyung.” Namjoon waved anyway, and another snap, Yoongi was gone, leaving you with this new devil. “Let’s get started.” ————————————————- You didn’t need to sleep, or eat. You could but it wasn’t needed. But you were tired, mentally and physically. Namjoon was nice but he showed you around like it was the only time you would get information. Knowledge he tried to cram into your brain, leaving you with a headache. Eventually he got to a building and told you to go in by yourself, that you’d get a person. “Name, cause of death, and last words.” The woman at the front desk had told you when you stumbled into the building, leaving you confused at what she meant. She rolled her eyes, sighing as she repeated what she said. “Name, cause of death, and your last words.” Nodding at her, you told he your name but had to pause to think of what you died from. “I got hit by a car, so that? It might’ve been internal bleeding, I’m not sure on the details.” She sighed once more, writing it down on her notebook. She was popping gum, bubblegum if you had to guess by the color. “Last words?” Her tone was snooty, like she was so done with this conversation, although it was very one sided. “... I hate you.” She looked up at you and snorted making you growl at her, he shot you a dirty look but sent you to the third floor. “Welcome to Hell! I assume you’ve come to get your person?” A man waiting in a cushioned chair asked you, a smile on his face, showing his pointy teeth, making him look threatening. “I think so.” He smiled even wider, his eyes closing as he did so, the door you came through slammed shut, causing you to jump in surprise. “Sorry, it’s supposed to be personal. You’ve been assigned to Joshua Hong, a teenaged boy.” He chuckled as he told you about your person, who sounded like he was doing pretty well, so why did he need you? “You’ll see.” And like that you were back on earth, in someone’s room, on the bed, on top of someone. “Who are you?” A voice that rivaled Seokjin’s in how heavenly it sounded, you looked at him in confusion, what was an angel doing in a bed? “Why is an angel in bed? Do you need to sleep?” You asked him, tilting your head, forgetting that you were sitting on him. “I’m not an angel, why would you think that?” He answered his question with his own. Making you a little frustrated, because he was lying! Someone that pretty has to be an angel. “Because Namjoon said I’d have an angel as a partner, you know, shoulder angel, shoulder devil!” You answers frustratedly, jumping off of the bed to look around. On a desk next to the bed were textbooks, much like the one you used before. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, my name is Joshua, I’m a human.” He stood up, making the blanket fall on the floor in a lump, making you twirl around to look at him in the eye. “Please don’t tell me your last name is Hong.” You pleaded, feeling yourself get pale. What the heck? Why did Satan put you in his bedroom? “It is.” Sighing, you sat in the floor, groaning into your hands. You felt him sit next to you, his hand on your back, comforting you. “I’m your guardian devil.” “My what?” Sighing, you explained what you knew, that you were like a guardian angel, but just a different species. “Why can I see you?” Shrugging at him, you pouted, and began to whine that you failed your first person and that you were never going to get your wings. “I’m sure you will. All we have to do is keep me safe, right?” Nodding at him, you noticed that his brown eyes had a twinkle in them, reminding you of childhood innocence. “Than that’s what we’ll do!” ———————————————— And that was that, you were now with Joshua everywhere, telling him about your life on earth, him telling you that he didn’t have many friends. Turns out that nobody else could see you, making you just shrug, not caring about why, although Joshua was curious. You went with him to school, although you weren’t much help as you were awful at school. Instead you’d help him avoid bullies and tell him when there was no one in the bathroom. It was nice, calm. Except your own words came back to haunt you, that you told your best friend that you hated them, then died. It sounded like a bad drama, one that you would’ve watched when you were alive. Sometimes you’d zone out when Joshua was talking to you, or when he was sleeping. It was like a trance, leaving you in memories with parents, teachers, friends. You didn’t miss being alive, having to live with society’s expectations. You missed the people in your life, sometimes it’d bring you to tears. Which in turn made Joshua upset, you, his friend was always sad, even when you were smiling. Your job was to be with him, it wasn’t a choice, thoughts like these kept him awake. Both of you lost in thought, trying to figure out how to make each other’s lives better. He didn’t really have many options with you, you were dead after all. You couldn’t be seen by your old friends, or your parents. So he did the next best thing, he got your favorite food. It was a great night, both of you joking and laughing over the food. It was also the last time he saw you. You didn’t leave him, he just couldn’t see you, couldn’t hear you. It was like you had up and left, leaving him to himself, making him feel more lonely than ever. In turn you gave him friends, you found other guardians whose human were social or needed a friend. You felt like a parent setting up play dates. Soon enough, Joshua forgot about you, you were just a thought at the back of his mind. At least your last words to Joshua hadn’t been you telling him that you hate him, quite the opposite actually. “I’ve never had a friend like you before, Joshua.” “Yeah, a friend.” Namjoon had never went over what would happen if you fell in love with your human, did he?

#SVT #bts #bts au #bts scenario #bts story #kpop au #kpop fic #kpop scenario #seventeen au #seventeen scenario #seventeen fic #koreabooeauty #Joshua Hong #Kim Namjoon #RM #Min Yoongi #Suga #Kim Seokjin

[movietvtechgeeks]

Latest story from https://movietvtechgeeks.com/supernatural-various-sundry-villains-kill-darlings/

'Supernatural' Various & Sundry Villains: Kill Your Darlings

Okay, I’m going to be upfront, I was ready to be super underwhelmed by last week’s Supernatural episode “Various & Sundry Villains.” All of the promotion focused on the love spell, and frankly, we’ve been there, done that. In fact, I’m shocked that showrunner Andrew Dabb let this pitch go to script given that he wrote the controversial episode “Season 7 Time for a Wedding”, an episode that I can honestly say has only one truly redeeming quality: Leslie Odom, Jr. was in it. While this was arguably derivative of that episode, giving this the go ahead was risky on Dabb’s part. It paid off for writer, Steve Yockey, because this love spell outing was much better than the last. In the opening of this episode we meet the Plum sisters, and I hate to say this, but despite watching this episode three times I don’t actually remember their first names and I could barely tell them apart anyway, so we’ll just call the one Dean “falls in love with” Harley Quinn and the other one we’ll call… Harley Quinn’s little sister? Yeah, sure, why not? Between the cutesy valley girl verbiage and the bloody sledgehammer, I’m sure we were supposed to get an Arkham Asylum vibe off these two. At least, I really hope that was the intention. I’ll be honest, I was not impressed with these characters and I’m not sure if it was off writing, off casting, or off directing, but they felt really forced. From their overly stereotypical Millenial way of speaking to their overtly blatant mirroring of Sam and Dean (yes, we get it, one is younger and brainy, they other is older and protective, they’re obsessed with their dead mom and it could go badly, was that a hammer they were using or an anvil?) the Plum sisters, unlike their Winchester counterparts, came off as grating. Maybe they were supposed to? Again, I hope so. I will say that as a horror buff I enjoyed the return of Rowena’s mad dog spell and the demise of the Plum sisters at each other’s hands. I saw a lot of people say it was too much, too gratuitous, too gory. And perhaps it was, but given the movies I regularly watch and enjoy, well, I embraced it. While I will say I’m glad the love spell portion of the episode was short-lived, it’s always fun to see Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki show off their comedy elbow chops; Ackles with the perfectly timed glibness he brings to Dean Winchester and Padalecki’s Sam Winchester, ever the earnest Abbott to Ackles’ Costello, was subtle, stoic faced gold. Ackles and Padalecki got to play off each other magnificently in this episode; from Dean walking in practically floating on a love cloud, to Sam trying desperately to remind Dean they’ve been down this weird love spell road before, to Ackles’ delivery of “‘cause she’s got a sister”, to their tussle in front of the Impala (though, dang, these boys horseplay hard given the butt dent Sam left on the hood after Dean rushed him) the two actors smoothly show how well they work together no matter the material. But the star of this episode was Rowena. Her entrance was stellar, and she stole every scene. Ruth Connell is delightful in this role and for the most part (we’ll get to that later) I was glad to see her back because I was sorry to lose her last season, especially in such a cheap, off-screen way. I’m hard-pressed to fall for new characters, but Rowena is one that I really enjoy. Connell was able to give us comedy and tragedy in this episode, going from snark to desperation fluidly. I also have to give Steve Yockey heaps of credit for having Rowena not only ask about Crowley but allowing her to have an outburst about his death. Hearing her say that she’d rather have him alive than to have died a hero hit really close to home given that the lack of Mark Sheppard as Crowley has been quite the gaping hole this season. Take a note from Yockey, other writers, because I’m still waiting for Castiel to ask about Meg… Speaking of Castiel, he and Lucifer were locked up. Now they aren’t. And like, they had a whole big penis to penis measurement contest and Castiel for some reason tried to hurt Lucifer by telling him that Jack doesn’t even look like him, which… um, Lucifer is in the image of a seasons dead vessel so, of course, he doesn’t look like him. And also, when did you get to know so much about Jack, Castiel? I think maybe the writer accidentally gave Misha Collins some of Sam’s lines to say. If I sound like I was less than moved by any of these scenes, it’s because I wasn’t. The scenes weren’t objectively bad or anything, and not only has Mark Pellegrino has found his footing as Lucifer again, but he and Collins play extremely well off each other. Unfortunately, their scenes simply didn’t mesh well with the “A” plot and the dichotomy crashed the episode’s momentum. Although, I did enjoy both characters reminding each other what untrustworthy, hypocritical screw-ups both have been. Again, I appreciate it when Supernatural is self-aware like that because fallibility gives depth and interest. Now, you didn’t think I was going to review this episode and not talk about Sam and Rowena sharing their trauma, did you? Because that was a scene that many Supernatural fans have waited years for. In season 11, Sam was forced to not only work with Lucifer, but he had to allow Lucifer into his home, into his room, and wasn’t allowed to voice any grievances about it and while Padalecki did a phenomenal job adding little twitches and moments of tight body language and subtle distance, it was all too obvious that the writers were wary of taking Sam’s trauma seriously because at the time Lucifer was possessing Castiel’s body and the “Cassifer" version of Lucifer was played mostly as a joke throughout that entire arc, nothing but a bratty teenager throwing a tantrum, while Sam Winchester, the boy who had every reason to rip into both Lucifer and God, just stood on the sidelines silently like he was totally fine. But he wasn’t, he hasn’t been, and watching Sam and Rowena both delve into the trauma and abuse they experienced at Lucifer’s hand was fantastically written and acted. Yockey was able to give the characters just enough for them to convey, through their tone, inflections, and facial expressions how much they were, no are, broken by the Devil himself. Having them both admit to seeing Lucifer’s real face, while giving no descriptive details was brilliant. Both Padalecki and Connell were able to communicate to the audience how horrific it was for their characters without any unnecessary detail. Such a great “show, don’t tell” moment; it’s so much more frightening for the viewer to fill in the blanks. And Sam explaining that it isn’t that he’s okay, it’s that he never gets the chance to fully deal with his trauma because the world is always falling apart was both heartbreaking and much needed, not only for Sam to say it but for the audience to hear it. At the end of this episode we got to see the other side of the Ackles/Padalecki chemistry, their ability to rip your heart out, when Sam and Dean have a frank discussion back at the bunker about what to do going forward. Dean knowing that Sam gave Rowena the spell she wanted and instead of yelling and belittling him, he’s simply honest and direct with him and doesn’t question Sam when he says that if Rowena played him again, he’ll personally kill her. It was also good to hear Sam be open with Dean about how defeated he feels, about how he tried to mask that with conviction and hope, but that he can’t fake it til he makes it anymore. And while Dean’s words of encouragement and confidence may seemingly ring hollow to Sam, it’s not because Sam doesn’t have faith in Dean, it’s that right now he can’t see where Dean is coming from. Dean knows, because characters have told him for years, how important he and Sam are, how they keep this world spinning, but Sam has never heard it directly, not from God, not from Amara, not from Death, not from Billie. Those declarations have only been uttered to Dean and then conveyed by Dean to Sam, so Dean knows that they’ll figure out a way, that it’s basically destiny and Sam has no choice but to take Dean’s word for it. I could go on and on about the isolation of Sam Winchester, but that’s an article for a different day. [caption id="attachment_53290" align="aligncenter" width="696"] Photo: Home of the Nutty[/caption] Overall, this was a mytharc episode done well, slightly overstuffed as most mytharc episodes are, but coherent and well paced with a fantastic blend of horror, levity, and angst. That said, the last thing I want to touch on for this episode is something that was absolutely no fault of the writer, Steve Yockey, but I think is an increasing problem on Supernatural; the element of surprise is gone, as are the stakes. Supernatural was once known as a show where rocks fell, and everyone died. It was also a show where Jim Beaver once hid his reprisal of Bobby Singer by trying to convince fandom that he was in Vancouver shooting an abominable snowman movie so that his return to the show wasn’t spoiled Fast forward just a few years and the cast, crew, and network PR are spoiling character reveals weeks, even months in advance. Instead of being shocked by Rowena’s return we all went into this episode waiting for her appearance, and while we saw Castiel stab Lucifer with an angel blade; saw the red light go out of Lucifer’s eyes; it’s all for naught. Lucifer is the focus of the promo that aired right after the episode, and the synopsis for the next episode lays out exactly what he’ll be up to. Even last season finale, no one believed Castiel was actually permanently dead. Hell, it took Mark Sheppard declaring that he refuses to ever reprise his role for fans to believe Crowley was truly dead. No stakes means no emotional payoff. No secrecy means no shock and awe. Take a page from some of the greats, Supernatural, including yourself: what’s dead should stay dead, so kill your darlings and if you must bring them back, stop telegraphing their returns. Check out this week's Supernatural Devil's Bargain trailer above.

Movie TV Tech Geeks News

#Featured #Jared Padalecki #Jensen Ackles #Mark Pellegrino #Misha Collins #Ruth Connell #Supernatural

[rogueimagination]

Skylines & Teacups Part Six

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part seven / part eight / 

Pairing: You x Suga

Summary: It was a quiet lonely night at a cafe right outside of the city when a mysterious looking man approached you. There blossomed something you never expected in your wildest dreams - not after everything you’ve been through.

Genre: Angst, a little splash of fluff

Word Count: 3915

Warnings: slight strong language

Author’s Note: I’m about 95% sure that the next part will be the last! Thanks for reading! 

——— Three Weeks Later ————–

It was a summer night and the sky left nothing to distort the view of the city lights. The cafe was filled with clusters of people buzzing around asking their friends if the cafe was “as good as the review said”. You sat in a back corner of the top floor, near the door to the balcony. Clutching onto your teacup, you gazed out the window that was angled perfectly to your eyesight. The tea was freshly hot but it gave comfort among all the unusual faces. The cafe had gotten unusually busy ever since a popular blog gave the cafe an extraordinary review. The place was once only littered with familiar regulars but now tourists and teenagers were hoping to get their peak at your favorite view. Although you were happy the cafe was doing well, you couldn’t help but be bothered by it all. They were intruding your special location.

A location you hadn’t been to in three weeks.

Your eyes were melting into the sun that was falling asleep behind the skyline when someone sat in front of you. Sojung’s newly dyed red ends caught your attention and you looked at her in the seat. “Are you on break?” You questioned your friend. “Finally,” She breathed as if she hadn’t breathed all day. “These past view days have been exhausting. It’s never been this crowded in the two years I’ve worked here.” She spoke as if there were no air in her lungs, resting her head on the table. “On the day I decide to come back to the cafe, it’s like this. I have to admit I’m disappointed.” You half joked, glancing around at the people shuffling around. “Disappointed you didn’t see Mystery Man?”  

Although she couldn’t see you, you scowled at the back of her head. “I told you never to mention him.” Sojung lifted her head and eyed you as you continued your own glare. “Yeah, but don’t lie to me and tell me you didn’t think about it.” Both of you were staring each other down. You, because you wanted her to stop. Her, because she wanted you to admit what you’ve been hiding. You broke the eye contact, only for your own stubbornness. “I don’t want to talk about it.” You claimed, looking into your tea as you drank it. Much to your dismay, Sojung was stubborn too.

“For your information, he’s not here.” She spoke as she folded her arms, continuing to observe you.  "I said I don’t want to talk about it.“ You reaffirmed, looking away from her but not looking at anything in particular. You were suppressing any feeling she was trying to evoke.

Sojung wasn’t listening and she didn’t want to either, "I see him all the time. While you stopped coming, he never did.” There was a mischievous glimmer in her eyes as she intentionally pushed your buttons - and was succeeding. She knew she was going to win this battle.

And she was right. You were pathetically falling victim to every word.

Although, you pretended she was wrong. You held a firm facade on the outside while the inside was growing weaker and weaker. With every mention of Mystery Man, your heart pounded faster and faster. You were starting to get sweaty and feel the “fight or flight” mechanism work its way into action. “Yeah… Let’s not…” you began, searching the cafe for any place to run, but she interrupted, “We talked a lot actually. He told me about what happened that night. I told him about your shitty interview, after you told me of course.” You pretended to not hear a world she was saying but in reality, every word absorbed into you without going unnoticed.

“You really told a lot to him when you were drunk at his house. You even slipped your name!” Sojung was so exaggerated it made the anger bubble up inside you. “I did?” You questioned, but quickly went back to ignoring her. “He feels so terrible, I’m sure next time you saw him he’ll reveal himself to you.” Sojung spoke, hoping for your response again. Although her words were sparking a variety of emotions inside, your only response was “Please stop.” She only continued, “I wonder…. what you guys talked about all those weeks to make him fall for you so hard for you?”

“SOJUNG!” your shriek could’ve broken glass as you pounced up from your seat, The anger surged through your veins but you tried to suppress it because of the public location. Sojung didn’t care and continued on, “He asks how you’re doing every time I see him. He really cares for you.” Your heart was exploding within your chest and the desperate need to flee the situation was encompassing you. “I AM LEAVING!” You threatened, pointing to the exit in order to make a point.

People turned to see the commotion you were erupting, but no one bothered to say anything. They all just watched the show. Sojung continued to ignore you, playing around with the sugar packets on the table and keeping her gaze away from you, and everyone else, and continued, “Yes, I was hesitant about him. I didn’t want him to hurt you. Except, now it’s reversed.” She eased up to you with a serious gaze. Whatever she meant by that made you want to vomit. “I’m hesitant about you because I don’t want you to hurt him.”

Your heart dropped and your body was now frozen. What does that mean?  “What have you been doing? Please tell me you’re lying.” Your voice was desperate but on guard. What was going on?

“Ah, I caught your attention with that?” She dropped her gaze, “What did you do, Y/N?” Her eyes were invading areas you didn’t want to admit existed. The discomfort lead you to fulfill your threat from earlier - You promptly turned around and fled the cafe. Quickly exiting, you spied behind you to check if Sojung was following and wasn’t surprised to find that she was. Once you were outside and the cold wind hit your face, you hesitated for a moment. That gave Sojung just enough time to catch up and breathlessly grab onto your arm to prevent you from running more.

You didn’t care to fight back. It would be pointless and unnecessarily dramatic. You’ve done enough of all of that already. “You should see him again.” Sojung suggested sincerely. There were so many things you wanted to say but only a simple “No” stumbled out. “I know you’re scared but I also know you’ve been overcome by guilt since that night.” Sojung wasn’t going to allow you to hide anymore. “Have you been talking to him? I told you wanted to move past this. I thought you were on my side.” You were pitiful and you knew it. Emotionally exhausted, you sat down on the edge sidewalk, wishing to fall asleep right there.

“I was… at the beginning. I was so happy when you said you stopped talking to him except soon after I started talking to him.” Sojung admitted to your disbelief as she sat next to you. “Why? Why would you do that?” You were almost at a loss for words. None of it made sense to you.

Both of you watched the cars pass by as you discussed the issue. “He forced me to talk to him and eventually I gave in.” Sojung felt no guilt towards it like you were hoping. She possessed an admiring confidence in everything, making you always admire her. “Why have you been keeping this from me?” You knew your question was unnecessary, yet you felt you had to say it. “You didn’t want to talk about him.” You had no response to that. It was the truth.

“You should stop hiding and talk to him.” It wasn’t a suggestion from Sojung. It was a command. In order to continue your denial, “I’m not hiding.” dripped from your lips. It was a useless effort. Your friend wasn’t going to let anything continue anymore. “Yes you are. You’re hiding that you were starting to care for someone you didn’t know.”

“What has he said to you?” You asked, hoping for an answer. “Go find out.” She didn’t give you one. “No.” The fear of facing your mistake was to great for you to do it by yourself. Half of you desperately wanted to hear his voice and mend what was burned. The other half was hiding in a corner, sobbing.

“Or I’ll make you.” Sojung threatened, but it was a threat you accepted. You wondered if a push was what you needed to break free of your self-made ropes. You also hoped she wouldn’t follow through. An endless war. A war that left you unable to respond to Sojung.

Taking your lack of response as a signal that the conversation was over, Sojung changed the subject. “In other news, are you coming to the engagement party?” You were thankful for the lighter topic and immediately responded, “Yes. How do you even have money for this party?” You honestly thought the party was a joke at first. Sojung and her boyfriend, now fiance, are not the type of people to have an engagement party.

Sojung laughed, “Joonhyung and I have know we were going to get married for awhile. We’ve been saving money.” Another thing from Sojung you didn’t believe. “Except, you were crying about money and..” You questioned, with heightened suspicions. Sojung was quick to defend herself, “That was three weeks ago and a bit of a misunderstanding. Don’t worry about it and come to the party.”

“Whatever you say.”

——————-

To your dismay, Sojung insisted that you dressed up for the party. She used some of her own makeup on you and forced you wear the nicest (and most expensive) dress you own - a dress you hadn’t wore for a very long time. Sojung put more effort in your hair than her own which made you suspicious, “Sojung, why are you doing this?”

“What? A girl can’t dress up her friend for her party?” Sojung acted defenselessly, giggling slightly. She pulled back your hair and you groaned in both pain and annoyance.

“Yeah but it’s your party not mine.” you responded while enduring the pain. “I don’t see anything wrong with wanting my friend all dressed up for my party.” her tone was the same voice she uses when she’s joking or teasing you - that only increased the skepticism. What was she planning?

“It’s just unnecessary…” you groaned as Sojung placed the final touches on your hair. Pleased at her work, Sojung sat down next to you and pleaded with sparkling eyes, “Will you go with me to the cafe real quick. I hid my present for Joonhyung there.” Your friend was as enthusiastic as she was the day she got engaged two weeks ago. She was either really excited for the party or a devious plan was flowing perfectly.

You shook your head, “I don’t trust you.” Sojung pulled you up from your head and gave you a face that would melt any innocent person. “Please come with me! We won’t be too long.” She pleaded with you, shaking your arms. “If you insist…” You agreed, reluctantly. You had a terrible feeling that she was planning something behind you back. Deep inside, the suspicion lied on something to do with Mystery Man. The thought only left you feeling hallow and melancholic so, hoping it wasn’t the truth, you buried it within you and followed Sojung to the cafe.

When both of you entered the cafe, she immediately pointed towards a table and ordered you to sit, “Wait there until I get back.” and she quickly went into the back room. You obeyed her and lingered where you were told to. To pass the unknown waiting time, you glanced around the room in a mindless observance - that is until you spotted something.

Walking down the stairs was a man dressed all in black, wearing a hat, and wearing a mask. An all too familiar sight. Mystery Man.

You followed his every movement, all while being wary of the possibly that he would see you any moment. He went up to the counter in front of the back room and signaled the attention of the woman behind it. Before he could say anything else,  she spoke “You’re looking for Sojung right? She just went in the back, let me go get her,” and she waltzed into the back room.

He sighed, a lonely sigh, and began to turn around. Your eyes enlarged and your heart beat accelerated. Right as he turned, you twisted the other way. Frantically think of what to do to prevent him from seeing you, you rose up and raced out of the cafe.

Unknown to you, he watched the back of you dash away and wondered if it was you.

You hid around the corner of the cafe, right next to a window that allowed you a view right to him. You breathlessly waited for Sojung to come out and hoped he wasn’t about to leave.

Peering through the window, you watched Sojung come out and catch sigh of Mystery Man. They spoke briefly until he went back up the stairs and she said a few quick words to the girl from earlier. Knowing she was now searching for you and he was out of sight, you went back into the cafe.

“Where did you go?” Sojung demanded, irritably. Her mood dropped an enormous amount of levels. “I just stepped out for moment. Do you have it?” You asked, looking down at her empty hands. Wasn’t she getting a present for Joonhyung?

Instead of giving you the answer you wanted, Sojung gave a devilish smile. “You saw him didn’t you?” Her mood had risen to the previous level now. Is this what she was planning? You refused to give her the satisfaction. “What? No…” except your lie was obvious. “Come with me” she giggled as she forcefully grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the stairs. You cursed yourself for being so weak. You couldn’t even free yourself from Sojung’s grip - or your buried desire to see Mystery Man again.

All you could think about as you were helplessly dragged was that she lied. Sojung lied. She wasn’t here for a present. She was here to trap you and you stupidly took the bait.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you latched onto the hand rail. You need to buy yourself some time in order to prevent yourself from seeing him - or from having a heart attack. Your cling onto the rail halted Sojung’s pull. “What about the engagement party?” A unnecessary question, but one to give you some time. Sojung cackled delightfully, “There’s no party. Who do you think I am?” You were right from the beginning. You should’ve trusted yourself.

“I don’t know! I had my suspicions but I didn’t say anything.”

“Give yourself more credit Y/N. You’re smarter than you think.”

“I….” The words didn’t finish leaving your mouth as you were pulled away again. That’s when you spotted him again.

Mystery Man was in the corner you used to share on the balcony. He was faced towards the skyline, but was drinking a cup of coffee. All you felt was fear.

All your blood went cold as Sojung dropped her grip. You could’ve easily made your escape, yet you remained where you were. “Stop lying to yourself and face him.” Sojung maintained a gentle push on your back and your legs started moving again. You knew she was right. When you got closer, you defrosted from the fear and the instinct to run reappeared - fighting against the instinct that desired to see his eyes.

You stumbled towards his masked face with Sojung’s hand on your back to guide the way. The battle whether to stay or run was expanding. You were lost to which one was your true desire. Sooner than you expected, you made it to his table. Your arrival was a bit too noisy and you knew he was about to look towards the commotion. You looked everywhere except at him with full knowledge he was looking right at you. You didn’t even notice when he stood up.

Once you felt Sojung take her hand off your back, you immediately turned around. Your attempt failed as Sojung pushed you away just as Mystery Man’s arms caught you and swung you back around. An unnameable and overwhelming feeling flooded your body as you found yourself in his arms and his face the closest it had ever been to yours. The lock that occurred when your eyes met his made you weak, allowing you to fall completely under his power. You no longer wanted to run away - only into his arms.

So you did.

You wrapped your arms around Mystery Man and clung onto him in a tight embrace. His arms made hits way around you, his strength matching yours. The emotion was undeniable but you don’t remember when you started crying. Now resting your head on his shoulder, you felt his head move towards your ear as he whispered, “I don’t like public displays of affection but I’m willing to do what’s necessary.”

There are no words for what that made your heart do. Explode? Implode? Squeal? Flip? Expand? All of the above? No matter what it was, something happened and it made you realize two things: 1. what your true desire was 2. the real reason you ran.

You truly wanted to see him again but you ran because you felt more than just friendship towards your mystery at the cafe.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry” you woefully apologized as you felt him brush your hair in comforting motions.  "No, I’m sorry. I should’ve…“ He sighed, "I should’ve done a lot of things.” Your eyes were closed tight as you lived the moment through every other sense. His familiar scent, one of coffee and dust. The sound of his heart beat and steady breathing which you had never heard before. Allowing yourself to embrace the texture of his clothing and gain some sense of his mystery. It was a shame it took a meltdown in the rain for you to finally be so close to him.

Unfortunately, Mystery Man set you free from the hug and you reluctantly stepped back. It was only then that you remembered the crowded cafe and Sojung’s presence. You turned around to search for her to find her missing. “Are we both forgiven?” You flipped back around to Mystery Man’s soft eyes and answered firmly, “Yes.”

Both of you sat in your location by the edge of the balcony that perfectly overlooked the famous city. Two teacups rested among the various deep discussions and giggles. Each of you took turns catching each other up and repairing misunderstandings. A comfortable familiarity. The sun gently cascaded below, erupting an array of pale shades of pink and blue. The colors danced in the distance as the night eased in to slowly overcome them. It was a night worthy of being placed in an art museum.

Everything felt right again. Everything felt as it should be. No worries invaded your mind and your muscles finally discovered relaxation. Mystery Man was your escape from life and you couldn’t believe you were willing to give it away.

When the colors faded and the moon rose as the queen of the sky, neither of you noticed. Entranced by each other after the long distance, time passed by effortlessly. The possession that held over you two was shattered when an employee came over. “I’m sorry to inform you that we’ll be closing in 5 minutes. Thank you for coming.” They informed then exited. Your eyes widened in surprise then looked around the cafe. It was empty. Inside and out. You and Mystery Man were the only ones there.

“Oh no. What time is it?” Mystery Man panicked, searching for his phone in his pocket. Once he had it, you snuck a look. An endless amount of notifications filled his phone as he quickly scrolled through them. Mystery Man was a popular man - not just to you. You also noticed the time. It was nearly midnight. “I have to go. I didn’t realize how late it was. I should have left earlier.” He was distressed, “I would’ve but…” He looked up at you quickly then back down as his phone rang. He quickly answered it, standing up in the process, “Sorry I wasn’t paying attention to my phone.” He spoke to the person on the other end.

You stayed in your seat, waiting for another word from Mystery Man. You had hoped he would walk you home again but the phone call made it appear that wasn’t going to happen. “Yeah?” He spoke to the other person on the phone while he looked over the balcony. You watched his movements as the fear returned. The fear of leaving him and this blissful state. “Right now?” He was disappointed but reluctantly agreed to whatever they said, “Okay.” and he ended the phone call.

Mystery Man wiped the stress from his face and wandered to your seat. At his arrive, you stood up and patiently waited for his voice. “I wish I could walk you home, but I can’t. There’s already a car here to pick me up.” He stared into you, hoping you’d see his regret. You saw. “It’s alright. I walk myself home all the time.” You brushed off your own disappointment to lighten the mood back up. He smiled, “Yeah but I wanted to tel… never mind… I’m sorry.”

He grabbed your hand and led the way out of the cafe. Unfortunately, you were soon outside but he kept his hand intertwined with yours. Parked on the side of the road was a big black car with tinted windows. You assumed it was for him. “Be safe. Bye, Innocent Stranger.” He spoke softly and as his last letters of your nickname slipped his lips you thought he might kiss you. Except he didn’t. Mystery Man let go of your hand and shuffled into the car. As you watched it drive away, you wished he had kissed you.

Although the night came to a disappointing end, you happily skipped your way home. You felt like twirling around in your beautiful dress as the butterflies that lingered made you feel like you were floating. He hadn’t even kissed you or told you his identity but the hug, seeing him again, and the long night with him filled the gap. The stars in the sky radiated as diamonds and glowed on all the buildings you passed. The past three weeks left you hallow but today filled you back up.

But in a split second, everything drained again.

The second someone stepped in front of you. Someone terribly familiar.

The lovely beams that escaped you, died. The flowers that rose from the dead, withered away again. The diamonds in the sky shattered and left a blank and barren sky.

You wished to see anyone else. Anyone else but him. To your misfortune, it was him. It was your ex-boyfriend.

A sinister smirk crept along his face as his spoke. His words brought your chills along your body and a sickly feeling in your stomach, “Hello Y/N. Did you miss me?”

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