Red, White, and Black | Heathers [ JD x Reader ]

two

word count | 1,362
-tags; mild language

you held the hand of the slushie machine and watched it pour into the cup. sherwood's 7/11 had a far more extensive flavor selection than your previous place of residence, but you still stuck to your classic favorite of coke. "smart girl."

you jumped from the sudden voice in your ear. "holy shit," you whispered under your breath. the owner of the voice was very close to you, and when you turned around, your faces were about half a foot apart.

"all these flavors and you still choose a classic," the boy held intense eye contact. it was hard to look away from him. "you come around here often?"

you fumbled a bit, releasing your hand from the slushie machine, "uh... no, i moved here a week ago." he didn't reply right away, instead holding the eye contact until you tugged on your sweater sleeve and looked down to the floor.

"let me buy you that. a gift from a returning customer to a new one," you didn't have time to protest. he was already walking towards the cashier.

"hey!" you ran over to him.

"i'm buying you this slushie."

the cashier totaled up the price for the two drinks. "when the hell did you get your own?"

he payed, grabbed the two cups, and handed you one. you noticed he had also gotten the same kind you had. "i work fast, darling. reflexes like lightning!" he started to walk outside, you following close behind.

"are you going to at least tell me your name?"

"i don't know, should i? neither of those heathers told you?"

"obviously not, jerk, which is why i asked you." he let out a soft chuckle. suddenly, you noticed how much taller this boy actually was.

you liked it.

"feisty, aren't you?" his hand found its way up to the side of your face, "how cute."

"shut up."

"jd... short for jason dean."

"what?"

"you asked my name, didn't you?"

"oh. oh," he smirked as you looked flustered, "y/n l/n."

jason dean... you didn't know exactly who he was, but you were intrigued. you wouldn't consider bad boys your type. normally, they were all cocky assholes. this one, however, didn't leave your thoughts. you kept thinking about him all weekend and still on monday morning as you got on the bus. nobody sat next to you, as usual, so you propped your legs up on the extra space next to you. the ride went slower than it normally seemed to, so when the school finally came into view, you sighed of relief and let your feet drop to the floor. gripping onto the strap of your messenger bag and shoved your way through the aisle and down the stairs.

two boys from the football team tumbled off after you, causing you to pick up your pace. "y/n, wait up!"

"i'd rather not,"

one of the boys grabbed your shoulder and pressed you against the cold brick wall of the school. "what, you got a boyfriend or something? he doesn't have to know."

"seriously, just let me go." you tried to shove your way between them. your shoulders were shoved backwards and your head was knocked off the concrete wall. a ringing sound echoed through your mind; you tuned out every other thing the jocks said.

what does it sound like when someone gets punched? you weren't sure. all you knew was that the intensified ringing was caused by your own bad boy punching the hell out of the two jocks that cornered you. "jd," you called to him. he didn't hear, so you yelled again. louder. "jd!" he looked at you, back at the guy he was attacking, and back to you. "please, let's just get out of here," he shoved the boy to the ground.

"you better leave her alone," he demanded, leaving the two to recover on the floor. he grabbed your hand and dragged you away from them. "are you okay? did they hurt you? they didn't touch you, did they?"

"jd. please stop, i'm okay. i just hit my head," he still looked concerned and huffed a sigh of frustration, "i'm fine. i promise." he pulled a cigarette from a pocket inside his trench coat, lighting it in one swift motion. "hey," you put your hand on his shoulder, "let's go. ditch school or something, i don't know, i just don't want to be here for the day."

"you sure?"

"jason dean, what the hell are you doing? trying to romance a new girl?"

you both turned around. "ah, veronica..." he sighed.

"veronica? what's going on?" you looked back and forth between the two of them.

"veronica i don't think it's your place to question what i do in my spare time," he flicked his cigar on the ground.

"y/n, if i were you i would stay far away from him."

"veronica..."

"jason, would you shut up? she's 15! i'm not going to let you do what you did to me to her!"

"don't call me that," veronica rolled her eyes at him as he spoke, "y/n, whenever you two are done here, meet me in the back parking lot." he walked away. you watched him as he faded from view before turning to a pissed-off veronica sawyer.

"what's your damage, veronica?"

"what's my damage? i should be asking you that!" she became angrier with every word. "i don't know what you're trying to do with jd, but stay away from him. talking to him just ends up with someone dead."

"jesus christ, veronica, what is he, a serial killer?"

heather and heather came up behind her. "veronica, y/n... what are you two talking about?" duke questioned the two of you.

"nothing, anymore," you stared veronica down.

"you look nice in red, y/n, did veronica give you heather's scrunchie? it'd look good in your hair." heather created mindless conversation with you as veronica continued to glare.

you reached into the pocket of your bag and fumbled around a bit before pulling out the piece of cloth. "yeah, yeah... i'll put it in later." you tuned out the rest of what she said, focusing on the red hair accessory in your hand. did it really hold as much power as veronica implied it did? you weren't sure if you were up for being the top girl at westerburg. you'd barely been there 5 days.

"jason dean... you know anything about this damn thing?" you walked towards the boy sitting on his motorcycle, tossing him the scrunchie you had compressed to fit inside your palm. he caught it and laughed as he realized what it was.

"she gave you this thing? i should've known when i saw you all decked out in red. you get that skirt from heather chandler too?"

"of course, my whole closet is from the dead girl," you joked. he stood up and wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning down so his head was closer to your ears.

"as much as i hated her, she knew how to get a boy's attention with her clothes,"

you tried to hide your face as best as you could in his chest. it was like you could hear jd smirking at you. "so does this get your attention, mr bad boy?"

he chuckled and moved so he could look into your eyes. he stared at you. you stared back. his eyes were filled with hunger, a deeper intention.

you leaned into him, and he leaned into you. your lips met with his, his hands cupping either side of your face. jd tasted like smoke (which would make sense since he seemed to be smoking every time you saw him) and he kissed with a passion none of your middle school or freshman year boyfriends could have ever imagined.

as you kissed him, you tried to push away the feeling that veronica had just tried to warn you. after all, does anyone want to think their potential boyfriend was a serial killer?

you certainly didn't want to think that. some voice inside you disagreed.

westerburg could deal without a few more of their students, don't you think?