#I wrote 12K in five days

[nakurumok]

Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: 구미호뎐 | Tale of the Nine Tailed (TV) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lee Rang/Lee Yeon Characters: Lee Rang (Tale of the Nine Tailed), Lee Yeon Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Protective Lee Yeon, Hurt Lee Rang (Tale of the Nine Tailed) Summary:

Yeon got back to the Joseon Era to hunt down the Original God of Mountain, only to find his badly injured little brother being abandoned on the ground by his past self for his inevitable fate of being manipulated by the Imoogi for the upcoming hundreds of years, and eventually sacrificed himself for Yeon.

No one should change time. Not even a nine-tailed fox and a former God of Mountain.

Yeon knew. But none of that matters.

He brought Rang home.

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven

dbf!jake seresin x fem!reader 12k words (.....yes. 12k. i-)

summary: Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he's actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father's new best friend, Jake Seresin.

a/n: porn with plot. a lot of plot. and a lot of porn. 18+ obviously. reader is twenty-five in this, jake is forty-seven. this is entirely based on my new fixation on dbf!jake. i have so many thots. so many that they led to a 12k oneshot lmfao. anyway, as always, a list of things to watch out for:

pet names used in an unholy way, safe sex (i fucking managed to finally give them a condom whooooohoooo), oral sex for the both of them (yes i also wrote a blowjob. this is unbelievable i know), dom!jake, some praise kink, a smidge of strength kink at the end. a lot of begging. as always. mention of shower sex. mostly vanilla. jake fucks in missionary because he wants to be nice for his first time with her. if there's ever a sequel i swear to god he will be the most unholy fucker ever

top gun masterlist | dbf!jake seresin masterlist

The first time Jake meets you isn't the first time he's supposed to meet you. He's supposed to come by for dinner that evening, to finally get to know the daughter your parents have told him so much about. And it's not his fault that he meets you seven hours earlier that day. Not really.

Because the pictures your parents had kept showing him were all old. Mostly childhood photographs, some from your graduation, but none recent enough to connect the dots.

So it's really not his fault that he doesn't recognise you when he sees you standing there on the side of the road, phone clamped between your ear and shoulder, the hood of your car all the way up. With how wildly you're gesturing, Jake guesses that you're not particularly close to fixing whatever problem you have.

You're wary when he pulls up behind you and opens his door. It's rarely a good sign when random men prey on very obviously helpless and distressed young women. But Jake doesn't even get closer at first, just stands there in the opened car door and asks if you need any help. For a little moment, you debate whether it's worth the risk. Then your father's voice rings out from your phone and you decide that there's not much this guy could do to you in broad daylight on a well used street with your father on the phone.

So you tell him the truth. Yes, you most definitely have a problem. The way he makes sure it's okay for him to come over and take a look calms you even more. He's considerate and careful and maybe you're actually lucky and he's just a guy who genuinely wants to help.

He steps out from the door and walks up to you and honestly, for a moment there you're startled. He has to be in his forties, but damn, he's attractive. Suddenly you're glad you picked your sundress over your sweatpants this morning.

You let him lean over your car and take a closer look.

"If he can't help, I'll just come pick you up and we'll call a tow truck", your father says after you've filled him in on what's happening. Honestly, you'd really rather not have to call a tow truck though, because that's just going to cost you a bunch of money again, which isn't particularly the way you want to spend it.

Also, this guy leaning over your car - and you're not even denying that you're very much eyeing him up - seems like he actually knows what he's doing there.

He takes a minute or two before he comes up again. He's smiling, which you take as a good sign. He opens his mouth and you hear what he's saying - but because you have no clue what it is that he's trying to tell you, you just nod along. You're not a mechanic, you don't know the goddamn terminology. Something something battery, something something fuel pump, whatever. You take the time to notice his accent instead.

The good news is he thinks he can fix whatever he's found, but you'll still have to get it checked out later on.

He walks back to his own car, rummages around and comes back with a toolbox and an unopened water bottle.

"It might take a while", he tells you as he offers you the bottle. "Feel free to turn on my radio."

You take the waterbottle and bite down on your lip to keep from grinning. He's sweet. Goddamn. Because you've deemed the whole thing safe, you tell your father goodbye and hang up - you honestly just want a bit of privacy to stare at this hunk of a man who's bending over the hood of your car again and offering you a very... good look at his backside.

It's summer. He's wearing a wife pleaser, which is reasonable in these temperatures, but the sight of his forearms working almost makes you feel like he knows what he's doing by wearing it. Does he have a wife to please, though? He's old enough to have kids - your age, maybe a few years younger. He's about as old as your dad. If he has a wife, maybe he's wearing it for her. Maybe she likes the way his biceps flexes just like you do.

You squint at his hands as you uncap the water bottle and take a sip. There's no ring as far as you can see. Would it be entirely unreasonable to assume he's... single?

It's been a minute, maybe, when you decide it's probably awkward for you to stand there and watch him, so you go with his suggestion and lean into his car, palms bracing against the seat to reach for the radio.

You turn it on, switch through a few channels until you find one you like and turn the volume up. Because it's probably just as awkward if you stay in his car - if not bordering on creepy - you step around the opened door and settle yourself against the hood. Your thighs stick to the warmed metal, but that's something you're willing to deal with.

Your eyes cling to him as he works. You don't know what the hell he's doing, you just hope he knows and you're not left with an even worse problem after. But he doesn't seem like that type of guy. And since he's seemingly unmarried... You don't stop yourself from staring.

Fuck, maybe he has a girlfriend, not everyone gets married at thirty. Not everyone wears their wedding ring either. But a girl can dream, right? And you're dreaming, for just a few minutes. You allow yourself to dream.

He looks so good. He looks so fucking good.

Sandy-blond hair, cut short, but not too short, broad, broad, broad shoulders... those arms, that back.

When he straightenes and looks at you, greasy fingers and a triumphant grin on his lips, you also have to admit that he's got chiseled fucking features. You swallow hard and do your best to pretend you haven't been ogling him.

"All done", he says. You raise your eyebrows.

"Really? That quickly?"

He grins and takes a step back, offering you to take a look yourself. You bite back a smile and push off the hood of his car - your hips are swaying as you walk, yeah, but as far as you're aware, he's single and just fixed your car for you, for free, in less than fifteen minutes.

Also, he's hot.

"Looks no different to me", you admit. He lets out a chuckle.

"Try it", he says, reaches for the hood and pulls it down as you slip into the driver's seat. You look up to him through the windshield before you turn the key in the ignition and-

The car starts.

The fucking car starts.

He's actually managed it.

You turn the key back and shake your head in disbelief. If he hadn't accidentally stumbled upon you, you'd probably have had to call the tow truck by now. Instead, you reach for the glove compartment and grab your purse.

"How-", you start as you climb out of the car seat again, shutting the door behind you. "How the hell?"

He chuckles.

"Actually, don't tell me", you interrupt yourself, throwing your hands up. "I don't even want to know. Here."

You reach into your purse and pull out disinfection wipes, offering them to him. He takes one with a smile and a drawled thanks and cleans off the grease on his hands before folding it up and letting it disappear into his pocket.

"So you're my knight in shining armour today", you say, biting down on your lip. Fuck it. You're gonna find out here and now whether or not he's single. "Otherwise I'm sure the tow truck would've cost me a hundred bucks - at least."

"Yeah, probably", he agrees, his eyes dropping to your mouth for just a second.

"Well, then", you smile, as coyly as you can manage. "How can I thank you?"

And just as you hoped, he stills, taking you in - maybe for the first time, you're not sure. His eyes rake down your body, your cleavage, your waist, your legs. His lips tug into a grin, but when he looks back up at you, he's serious.

"No worries", he tells you. "I'm not the tow truck."

He's not pushing you. Actually, he's doing the opposite, and you're not a fan. Maybe he isn't single after all. Maybe he does have a girlfriend. Or a wife. Or maybe he's not interested. Maybe... but you can give it a try, right? Just one try.

"I can't just drive off", you argue, blinking up at him a little more, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Fuck, are you really doing this? Your breath catches for a moment. But then again, if he isn't single, you're just gonna get into your car and never see him again. So who cares? "How about I give you my number?"

Your heartbeat quickens as he looks at you and straightens up. He's still grinning. You can't quite figure him out.

"I'm forty-seven, darling", he chuckles. You try your hardest to ignore how that pet name sounds, all sweet and intimate and god, you'd do a lot to have him say it again.

"So?", you ask and raise an eyebrow. "Does that mean you don't have a phone?"

Jake shakes his head with a chuckle, but you keep looking up at him so seductively, keep smiling so flirtatiously that he can't help himself. You're wearing such a pretty dress, such a dainty necklace around your throat. And you're serious about this.

He's had younger women flirt with him, yes, but usually five, ten years younger at most - and even that's been a while, because he isn't going to bars every night anymore.

You're really young. You're too young. You're, what, twenty-six? You can't be much older.

But you're stunning. Gorgeous eyes, kissable lips, glossy and plush and for just a moment, Jake loses himself in the images his mind seems to produce immediately when he looks at you - has been, from the second he'd spotted you through his windshield.

He's old enough to know better. But he still reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone.

...

The first time Jake officially meets you is seven hours later when he knocks on your parents' door and takes a step back to wait for it to open.

"That's gotta be Jake, someone get the door!", your mother's voice calls out, and it takes a few seconds until he hears soft footsteps coming down the hallway.

Then the door cracks open.

And there stands-

You.

You're smiling widely for the entirety of two seconds. Then your face falls.

Jake feels like the rug is pulled out from under his feet. He tumbles deep down a dark, dark hole as he stares at your pretty eyes, all shocked and wide, mouth open.

"You", you let out, almost breathless.

"You", Jake echoes, in quite the same tone.

Within seconds, you're stepping out onto the porch, closing the door behind you and holding out your hand in front of you, as if to keep him a safe distance away.

You're quick, almost stumbling over your own words as you come to conclusions and try to grasp all their consequences. Jake has a hard time even listening to you. He's frozen in his spot, barely comprehending the entire situation.

The young woman that had so unashamedly flirted with him this morning - that he had most definitely flirted back with - is his neighbour's daughter. His friend's daughter.

So he's fucking frozen in spot, yes.

He's frozen even as you're ushering him into the house with a smile on your lips that's just a bit too wide. He's frozen as he sits down at the dinner table and frozen as your mother offers him a beer. He's frozen as he settles on the couch after and as your father turns on a football game. He's frozen as you scoff at the tv and disappear up the stairs.

Your father asks him what's wrong, but there's no way Jake can tell him.

Even without your lecture on the porch, there would've been no way he would have admitted that he's got your number saved in his phone, "Twenty-five" with a winky face emoji behind it.

So he says he hasn't been all that well - maybe getting the flu or something.

Which is bullshit. He doesn't get sick. He's been sick two, maybe three times in all his life.

But he does think he'll be sick when you take your last step down the stairs half an hour later, in pajamas that barely cover anything - satin or something, he's too focused not focusing on your bare skin to notice anything except your bare skin, really. You just traipse over to the kitchen on tiptoes, eyes glued to your phone, hushed voices reaching his ears when you talk to your mother before you reappear in the living room.

"I'm going to bed", you announce, phone clutched tightly in your hands. "It's been a long day."

Jake can't hear your father's answer. He can't hear the commentator or the cheers from the tv. He can't hear anything, not when you're standing there in the doorway, when he's concentrating so fucking hard on not looking at you.

He fails miserably.

His eyes rake down your body so scorchingly hot that they burn holes into your skin. You have to swallow hard at his expression.

You're not tired at all, actually. Yes, it's been a long day, but if anything, you're buzzing with adrenaline. Which is worse. Because the entire dinner long, you've just had to sit there and stare at him and not do anything about it.

So you're aching to finally hide away in your room, to crawl into bed and contemplate what the fuck is happening. And, just maybe, to dip your fingers into your pajama shorts and think about his shoulders, his arms, his jawline...

Jake manages to grunt some kind of 'goodnight' before you flee - but he doesn't manage to drag his eyes back up from your stomach, all exposed and on display for him. And he doesn't manage to hide it from you.

...

He sees you often over the following weeks. He's been over at your parents' house almost every day for the past six months anyway, and that doesn't change just because you've come back home. Your father still invites him for football games, your mother still talks him into coming over for lunch or for dinner or both and whenever they're outside tinkering on something, he's being called to help.

And - because of course, it's your house as well - you're there, too.

All around him, all the time.

At first, it's innocent. You walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water and smile and say hello. You sit on the couch on a call with a friend and wave at him through the window. You come back from a walk with the dog and ask how he's doing before you disappear inside.

But then there come moments... Moments in which you lie down on a sun lounger in a skimpy bikini while he's painting the fence with your father, sunglasses high on your nose, a book in your hands, rubbing sunscreen into your skin and biting your lip when he can't help but look at you. Moments in which you brush up against him in the kitchen with a giggled 'Sorry', your mother's back turned to you as she grabs milk from the fridge, his fists clenching at his sides, his coffee cup held decently in front of his crotch. Moments in which you sit next to him on the couch and have to lean over him with a lengthy apology, your father just disappearing into the bathroom, your palm high enough on his thigh to stagger into the inappropriate.

The only time he's safe is at work. And even then, you're on his mind constantly.

Those pretty dresses you wear all the time, low-cut in the front and so short they hardly reach past your mid-thighs, in all colours of the rainbow. Those skimpy tops with the flowers on them and jeans-shorts or skirts he's more than once noticed are actually skorts.

He shouldn't be attracted to you. It's so wrong on so many levels. You're too young, much too young, twenty-two years younger than him. And - worse - he's best friends with your father.

He can't be attracted to his best friend's daughter. He simply can't.

It's wrong. It's so, so wrong.

But he can't help himself. He can't help himself when you brush up against him, when you touch him, when you look like that right in front of him.

He doesn't know how he survives those first weeks. He doesn't feel like he's alive, really. Every waking thought is of you - of you and of how wrong it is that he can't stop thinking about you. That he keeps imagining what it would be like to hold you, to kiss you, to-

No.

No, he can't.

Even though you're making it practically impossible for him.

And it's not like you really know what you're doing either. But ever since the car incident that very first day back home, you've been picturing those arms, those shoulders - and after the first time you caught sight of him working shirtless on some project in the backyard with your father, those fucking abs. All glistening, sweaty skin, that v-line, that happy trail...

It's not your fault he's starring in all of your late night fantasies now. It's his. It's his because he shouldn't be allowed to look that fucking good, to smell and sound and feel that good, when you can't have him. Because of course you can't.

He's twenty-two years older than you. He's your dad's new best friend.

You can't.

You can't flirt with him like you want to, you can't have him, because it would be wrong. But you also can't not.

You don't mean to taunt him, not at first. At first, it's just instincts. Talk to him, get his attention. But the more you're around him... the less you can control yourself.

You want to then. You want to graze your fingers across his thigh when your father isn't looking, you want to suck the straw of your drink into your mouth while you blink up at him, you want to accidentally drop your spoon and bend over in front of him. You want to because you know he wants you to.

Even though he doesn't say it, even though he forces himself to turn away when you walk by him, you see the way he looks at you. You catch him staring, you catch him eyeing you up and down. You notice the tick in his jaw and the way his fists clench at his sides. You watch his knuckles turn white as he grabs the neck of his beer bottle and takes a deep sip.

You know he's most definitely attracted to you.

Because even if you imagine half of those things - there's still the car incident. There's still your number saved in his phone. There's still 'darling' on your mind. Mostly the way he's repeated it since then, two or three times maybe, each one inspiring more sinful bedtime scenarios.

You can't.

He can't.

And yet neither of you doesn't.

...

Your parents are away when it happens. Your dad has to go on a trip for work and he takes your mother with him, surprises her with an extra weekend of romance just for the two of them. They're gone by Wednesday morning and won't be back until Sunday afternoon and even though you're twenty-five and have experience living on your own, they've asked Jake to check in on you, just to make sure you're okay.

The first time he 'checks in on you' is involuntary. He's just come back from work, it's Wednesday, 3pm, and he's sitting down on his back porch with a beer when he spots you.

He really doesn't mean to. He hadn't even known you were there.

But the fence between your house and his isn't high and so it's only natural that his eyes flick over to your garden once.

And then twice.

Because you're climbing out of the pool in the tiniest black bikini Jake has ever seen in his life, looking like some angelic, biblic, ancient goddess - your hair in a messy bun, droplets of water running down your bare skin, muscles working as you pull yourself up the little ladder and put both feet against solid, dry ground, leaving wet footprints with every step you take until you grab your towel, sling it around your shoulders and-

Look right at him.

Your lips tug into a flirty grin. You wave at him, your hand lingering in the air a second too long before you wrap the towel tightly around yourself and tread towards the fence. Jake can't do anything but watch you go and swallow hard.

The other option would probably be to drag you into his arms and ravage you until your throat is sore from screaming his name.

So he just sits there and stares at you instead.

"Hey there", you greet as soon as you're close enough to the fence that he can't look past your belly button anymore.

"Hey", Jake says and for whatever reason, his voice sounds raspy even to himself. Your grin only deepens.

"Do you have plans for dinner yet?", you ask. You bat your lashes at him innocently as you dry off your arms. "I was going to order take out."

So that's why three hours later, Jake rings your doorbell, in a black button up he spent twenty minutes picking out. The last time he'd spent that long in front of the closet, he'd been about fifteen years younger and about to go on an actual date. This isn't an actual date. This is anything but a date, because he's only supposed to check in on his best friend's daughter. He's supposed to look after you. Keep you safe.

But you open the door in an oversized, washed out band tee and smile so stunningly that he forgets what he's supposed to do in about half a second.

There's a moment of silence as Jake stares at you. He knows that damn band tee.

"Is that... mine?", he asks in disbelief as he waits for the sight to sink in, which it does not do. His mind blanks completely. It's not just that it's oversized and that you look like you're drowning in it, which already has him imagining the way he could flatten his palms against your stomach and feel for you in that heap of fabric. It's also that he knows this fucking shirt because he's been wearing it for the past ten years.

You look down like you're just realising what you have on, not like you'd almost had a heart attack when you'd seen it in the laundry basket, squealing so loudly that your mother had come in to check on you. Jake had worn that shirt the same day and apparently forgotten to put it back on when he'd gone home, so your mother had put it in the laundry.

She hadn't realised that you'd stolen it for yourself before she could wash it. She probably hadn't paid it that much attention.

You had though. And tonight had felt like the perfect occasion to wear it.

"I found it in the laundry", you say truthfully, looking up at him with big eyes. "Dad said it wasn't his so I just took it. Maybe a mix up. Do you want it back?"

Your fingers reach for the hem of the shirt down by your thighs, tugging mindlessly up just a tiny bit. Jake almost stumbles over his own words with how quick he is in denying you.

"No, no, keep it", he reassures. "Keep it."

You let go of the shirt as your grin widens.

"Okay then", you say softly, turn around and leave the door open so Jake can get in. You stroll into the kitchen, crack open the fridge and grab the freshly made iced tea while Jake closes the door behind him and puts away his shoes.

It could have easily been awkward. Honestly, Jake isn't sure that it's not. But it doesn't feel like that. It just feels... heavy. Drowsy. As though you're moving in slow motion, looking at him over your shoulder with a sultry grin. And in his shirt as well. His fucking shirt, it's unbelievable.

You're smiling at him over Chinese take out food with the radio playing softly in the background and the dim kitchen light on and it could have been almost normal, almost nothing, almost just a friendly dinner with his best friend's daughter.

But it isn't.

It isn't because you're leaning over the table and stealing a spring roll from him, grinning at him when he starts to protest. It isn't because you're pushing him back down onto his chair when he wants to get up and help you clear the table, leaning most definitely too close to him to grab his plate and bending most definitely too far down to put it into the dishwasher. It isn't because you're opening a bottle of whiskey, pouring him one and only then asking if he's going to stay and watch a movie with you.

You've already poured him the drink.

Not that he'd been planning to say no.

You're not close to him on the couch, not really. You're a respectful distance away as you put your own drink onto the table in front of you and grab the remote. You're still a respectful distance away as you scroll through a bunch of movies and ask him if he's got any preferences - besides football, of course.

But when you decide on a movie, on one of those rom-coms he'd never watch willingly, you're draping your legs over his and brushing your hair away from your face and he has to swallow hard.

His hands drop to your bare skin almost instinctively. He can't keep them off of you, not when you're this close to him, not when you're offering so prettily. It's like he has to touch you, has to brush his thumbs across your ankles.

This could all be normal. This could all be usual.

Jake doesn't bother paying attention to the movie. It's not like he could possibly pay attention to it, not when his fingers are running up and down your soft skin. So he doesn't really mind that he misses their first kiss, even as you look up from the drink you're refilling with a gasp and wide eyes to watch.

Jake just watches the way your hair frames your face, those droplets of iced tea on your lips before you wipe them off. He's sure he could taste them if he tried to.

You lean back into the couch then and stretch and your shirt - Jake's shirt - rides so far up that he catches sight of your underwear. Fuck.

He has to grab onto you hard so that he doesn't launch himself right on top of you. His mouth is dry all of a sudden, so dry that he has to swallow. You blink up at him as you feel his hands clench around your ankles, your teeth digging into your bottom lip to keep from grinning.

He needs a few seconds to even look up at you. It's like his eyes are glued to that expanse of bare skin at your hip, clinging to the thought of you in your underwear right before him. You're always wearing shorts. You're always wearing shorts. You're always fucking wearing shorts.

Shit.

He shouldn't. He can't.

But his hands brush up your calves and he does look back at you then, which really isn't better, because your lip is still caught between your teeth and your expression is so sinful that he has to bite down on his own tongue.

"Jake", you breathe, all soft and quiet and that's it. That's his breaking point.

You can't just say his fucking name like that, not in his shirt, not while presenting him such a good look at your underwear, and expect him to be okay.

"Fuck", he mutters, then he's on you.

It's an uncomfortable position. You're half turned to him, half away, your legs are still thrown over his lap, which means he can't really push close to you, but his lips are against yours, so firmly, so passionately that you can't care, not right then.

Your eyes fall shut and you kiss him back with the same fervor, the same heat, the same fucking desperation to finally feel him. You part you lips almost too eagerly, too quickly, just so he can stroke his tongue along yours. His hands dig into your thighs, grabbing you tightly, and your arms cross behind his neck to drag him down to you - just that your legs are really in the way now and you have to try and pry one from his lap so that he doesn't crush it, which isn't all that comfortable and takes a while too long to still be sexy. You hardly mind. Jake doesn't either, only pulls his knees up to the couch to climb on top of you.

The whole thing is complicated and annoying and decidedly too time consuming, but his lips are on yours and he's pressing against you, catching himself with a palm against the couch cushions and lowering you to lie down, every single touch frenzied and hurried and hot. Heady and heavy and horny.

You're dragging your hands through his hair, tugging, pulling, scratching your nails across his scalp. He's grabbing your hips with his free hand, grasping your thighs, tangling his fingers in your shirt and digging them into your skin.

You're grinding against him. Not softly, not carefully, not secretly. You're wrapping your legs around him and grinding against him, almost without realising it - you need to be close, you need to be closer. You need to move. You need to feel him.

At the first moan you let out, Jake stills. When you breathily add his name, he pulls back entirely.

It's cold and empty without him, cold and empty and confusing as he settles back on his ankles, panting and wide-eyed. Your arms and legs drop to the couch as you try to catch your breath.

"No", Jake mutters. "We can't."

You push yourself up onto your palms, chest still heaving as you look up at him. Your cheeks feel so hot that you're sure they're embarrassingly red by now and your mind is still hazy with what just happened -

Jake had kissed you. He'd kissed you and you'd kissed him back.

And now he isn't kissing you anymore and you're absolutely not alright with that. You need him to kiss you again. You need to dig your hands into his hair and feel him knead your thighs again. You need to find out what it's like to rake your nails along his arms and scratch down his back.

"Jake", you breathe, staring at him all wide-eyed as he shakes his head and inches even further away from you. He seems like he's in a trance. You repeat his name more forcefully and reach out for him - but he only shakes his head again and runs a hand down his face.

You still for the entirety of two seconds. Then you sit up, inches closer to him than necessary, and toy with the hem of your shirt. You've got a hunch that giving and taking the sight of your underwear will only help your case here.

"Why not?", you ask as you watch his eyes drop down, just like you'd wanted. His breath catches.

"You're twenty-five", he begins, his voice a bit too rough to sound unaffected. "And I'm friends with your father."

You take a long look at him.

"Would you if you weren't friends with my father?"

You bite down on your lip and blink up at him as prettily as you can manage. You're quite sure you know the answer. Especially with that car incident... With your number saved in his phone. With that smug grin you still see in your fantasies.

He hadn't been too concerned with your age back then.

"I am friends with your father", Jake says, all the while struggling to drag his eyes back up your body.

"But if you weren't", you go on, not ready just yet to leave this be - because you know that if you back down now, you'll never get a chance again. Not like this. Not with him. "If you weren't friends with my father. Would you?"

A muscle ticks in his jaw. You hold your breath - one, two, three seconds. Then he's on you yet again and this time, this time with no end in sight. Not as he pushes you back down onto the couch and sets both his palms down next to your head. Not as you wrap your legs around his waist and work the buttons of his shirt, fingers moving so frantically that you slip up more than once - not that you care.

You're kissing Jake. After what has felt like an eternity of teasing and quietly flirting, you're finally kissing him, touching him, feeling him. On top of you, all around you.

Yes, he fucking would. You were right.

His shirt finally unbuttons and you can hardly push it out of the way quickly enough to run your hands down his chest - exploring his collarbones, his abs, that fucking happy trail that has been driving you insane ever since you saw it for the first time. Your fingers brush bare skin, warm, hot, bare skin, before they catch on his waistband. He grinds his hips onto yours as you draw your fingertips along his belt and swallows the moan you so pathetically let out.

You're just about to get to work on opening his belt buckle when he shifts his weight onto one hand and grasps your wrist with the other, pulling an inch away from you as he does so, lips parting in sticky intoxication.

"Jake", you mewl, but when you blink open your eyes he's already shaking his head softly and- grinning. Grinning that smug grin that you've been dreaming of. The one you haven't seen since the very first time you met him. Not with your dad around or directed at anyone else, no. The grin that takes your breath away right then, and you can't even tell why.

It's confident and cocky and cheeky and so, so very, very sexy. Fuck.

You stare at him with wide eyes and parted lips, too caught up in taking him in to notice how he's bringing both your hands up over your head.

"If we're doing this, I'm doing it right, darling", he mutters, all low and rough and the pet name has you clamping your thighs even harder around him. "And only if you want me to."

You can't nod quickly enough.

"I need you to tell me, baby", he grins, exposing those pearly whites that you'd very much like to feel biting into your neck or something. "I need you to say yes."

"Yes, Jake", you push past your lips, breathless and panting and desperate. Desperate for him. "Please."

His chuckle reverberates in your own chest. He runs his hand down your side and rubs a soft circle against the bare skin of your hip, catching on the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

"Already begging for me", he mutters with a grin, his fingers hooking into your waistband. Your hips buck up into his and a moan drops from your lips and Jake just keeps on grinning. Keeps on running his thumbs along your hip bones. "That easily."

You can't even deny it, deny him. You need him to touch you and you need him to do it now.

"You're lucky I want to taste you, because I'm sure it'd be fun to tease you", he chuckles, holds you down against the couch as he sits back on his ankles, keeping your legs spread and the dark spot on your underwear right on display for him. "I could keep you here all night."

You're not sure what excites you more - the promise of all night or the tasting you part. Either way, you bury your hands into your own hair and tug hard to keep yourself from sitting up, pushing him onto his back and riding him into oblivion. He wouldn't let you anyway, you're guessing.

Jake runs his free hand down the inside of your thigh and you really have to concentrate on not moving then. Every touch, every brush and every stroke sends shivers down your spine and pools in your core, heating up each inch of your skin.

When he reaches your underwear once more, he hooks his second thumb into it as well and tugs. Your jaw clenches. God, you've gotta keep still, you've just gotta wait-

He looks up then and raises his eyebrows.

"Please, Jake", you breathe, before he can even say anything. His eyes drop again and he pulls your underwear down, down, down, pushing your knees together to slide them off your legs and you're holding your breath, holding your breath in this intoxicating mess of a moment as he parts your thighs again and leans in. Leans closer.

Leans... not close enough.

Instead, he grabs the hem of your shirt.

"As much as I like that you're wearing my shirt", he mutters, already pushing it up and exposing your stomach to him, "I want to see you."

You let out a pathetic little moan, loosen your hands from your hair and pull his shirt over your head instead, dropping it down onto the floor without looking or bothering where it lands. You're not really bothered about anything besides getting Jake's mouth on you right now.

You're dripping already, dripping down your own thighs as he takes you in - all naked, all bare in front of him, soft skin and smooth curves, chest rising and falling with your heavy breath, eyes half-closed, lips parted and kiss-swollen.

It's wrong. He shouldn't. But he's already gone too far and now, now, with all of you for him to see, to touch, to feel, he can't go back. He can't ever go back.

He wants to burn this image into his memory forever.

"Jake", you whisper, voice just as soft and silky as the rest of you and he snaps out of his trance, runs his fingertips over your stomach, studies you as your breath catches. He leans down again, but his eyes are fixed on you still, focused even as he presses a kiss to your hipbone, then to the inside of your thigh. His teeth graze your skin and his fingers brush against the underside of your boobs.

Fuck.

You bite down on your lip.

Jake thinks he might be in heaven as he palms at your breasts, swiping his thumbs across your nipples and watching your expression change ever so slightly. He breathes against your wetness and his eyes flicker down to finally look at you, dripping for him. His fingers still for just a moment.

If he does this, there's no going back. He's crossing a line that he can never uncross.

But in all honesty - he's already long crossed that line.

So he flattens his tongue against you and tastes you. And you throw you head back and let out a moan that's so filthy that he can't even be bothered to care about what fucking lines he's crossing anymore. He just buries his face in your wetness and basks in the way your eyes roll back into your head.

Your hands dig into his hair all by themselves, tug and pull and push him closer, further into you. You taste heavenly. You are in heaven. You're in heaven with Jake between your legs, brushing his tongue through your folds, sucking your clit into his mouth and groaning into you. He's running his fingers over your breasts, palming and grasping at them, circling and tracing.

That's when the movie stops.

You hadn't even realised it was still on, to be honest, but now, in the silence, your moans echo three times as loud. Jake bathes in the sounds you're letting out. You're absolutely gorgeous like that, teeth tugging at your bottom lip, cheeks flushed, eyes fluttering closed before you blink them open again to look at him, to watch him as he lays between your thighs.

You're soaking in the way he swipes his tongue against you, the way he palms at your skin. With every touch and every brush, you can feel the knot tightening. Can feel the tension in your limbs growing. Can feel the way your legs are starting to clamp tighter, tighter and tighter around Jake's head.

He's so good at this. He's so fucking good at this.

Your grip on his hair tightens so much that you're sure you have to be hurting him, but he doesn't show the slightest hint of wanting to tell you off for it. No, quite the opposite: he pushes further into you and groans his approval.

Which is about the last thing you can take.

Your legs cramp, your hands drag at his hair, your back arches, your head hits the armrest of the couch and Jake guides you through your high, eyes set on you, focused and fixed on you, watching every single reaction you have to him, drinking in the sight of you, drinking in your moans. You're pushing back against him, panting and clawing at him, lips parted and eyes shut tightly as you take in a shaky breath and sink slowly back against the couch.

The air is heavy. Heavy with your emotions, heavy with your orgasm, heavy with your moans.

Jake pulls back slowly, softly, draws his hands down to your stomach to rub circles onto your skin - significantly warmer now than before. You're still breathing heavily, legs unhooking from around his head only reluctantly. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded if he'd just decided to stay down there for the next three to five business days. But you also don't mind as he pushes himself up and presses a kiss to your lips, because he tastes like you and you get to hook your arms around his neck and pull him even further down onto you.

With his half-bare chest pushed against yours, his tongue runs along your lips and you open willingly up to him. More than just willingly. Because with him on top of you, his lips sticky and syrupy on yours, not wanting or not able to part from yours, there's already anticipation running in your veins, wetness pooling in your core again, the urge to wrap your legs around him and grind against him growing and growing with every second that he's kissing you.

You draw your hands down his throat, push his shirt out of the way and brush your palms down his bare torso, all hard abs against your fingertips. He's in such good fucking shape you could truly be running your hands up and down a washboard right now. It feels unfair that he's more than twenty years older than you and somehow fitter.

Your fingers catch on his waistband then.

"Jake", you whine softly against him. "Please, I need you."

He groans, drops his head down to your neck and for a second, you just hear him breathe - all hot and heavy before his lips graze your skin.

"Fuck, you can't say that, darling", he mutters. "You don't know what you do to me."

His belt buckle feels cold against your fingertips, so cold against your sticky, sweaty skin.

"Show me", you whine, beg, plead. He's not teasing you, not taking his time, he's not waiting or edging or anything, and still- Still, you're so fucking desperate. He's finally got you here, finally, and as much as you're sure you'd enjoy his teasing... You just need him to fuck you. Now.

Jake chuckles breathily as he raises his head to look down at you. There's that grin again. That fucking grin.

Then he plants that grin onto your lips and you moan softly, hooking your fingers into his belt and pulling hard. You've just started loosening it successfully when he sits back onto his ankles, leaves you cold and lonely and fully naked on the couch. You mewl.

"Jake-", you let out, but he's already standing up, climbing off of the couch and you're sitting up as if in trance, just to follow him, whatever it is that he has in mind.

He slips off his shoes before he starts to work his belt and then lets that fall to the ground too. You reach for him instinctively, drawing your fingertips along his thighs as he pops the button of his jeans and pulls down his zipper, but when he hooks his thumbs beneath his waistband and tugs down, something snaps inside of you.

"Wait", you whisper. "Let me."

You reach out for him and graze your fingers along his waistband, taking a breath as your eyes flutter up at him. He swallows hard, lets his arms drop to his sides and nods heavily. God, he looks so fucking attractive. His hair all messy, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed solely on you. You make sure to work quickly, almost frenzied, hurriedly pulling down his jeans and taking his briefs right with them. You won't spend unnecessary time on unimportant things.

Your breath catches, palms stilling against his thighs.

Fuck.

Jake's hand twitches, then clenches into a fist. But he stays right where he is, doesn't move an inch. Everything in him screams at him to run his fingers through your hair and guide you closer to him - but he doesn't. He won't. Not tonight, not right now. Right now, he wants to give you every out he can. Just in case you want to take it.

You don't. Of course not.

Not when you can see just how much he's holding himself back.

So instead you lean down and kitten-lick his tip. His hand flexes, again, and even though he lets out a deep groan that will surely echo in your head for the next two weeks, he stays still.

You just wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and take him into your mouth.

He has to close his eyes and tilt his head up to keep from bucking into you. Damn, it hasn't even been that long since he got blown. And he didn't react like a teenager then. But something about your warm, wet mouth, something about the way your dainty fingers reach around him, something about how you eagerly take him so far that he hits the back of your throat, something about that soft little gagging noise you make just before you pull off of him to breathe in deeply-

Fuck, you're making this really hard for him.

"Jake", you mutter, your hand still working him. He opens his eyes and looks down at you, looks down at you sitting there on the couch, completely naked, eyes all wide and cheeks flushed and so fucking stunning. His fingers brush along your forehead, tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

"Jake", you repeat, a little more breathlessly this time. "Don't hold back for me. I won't break."

His jaw clenches again, but you just blink up at him, the weight of your words heavy between you. His eyes roam your face for any sign of uncertainty - then he nods. He'd like to disagree, though. He's more than afraid he'll break you.

You're so young, so sweet, so fragile.

Just not innocent. And you feel like you have to remind him of that - of your more than obvious flirting, of your sultry grins and half-naked hints, of your number sitting so unashamedly in his contacts.

So you lean in again, pull your free hand from his thigh and grab his wrist instead, dragging it away from your cheek and planting it on the back of your head as you wrap your lips around him. He takes a shallow breath and your hand drops back down to his thigh. There's one, two seconds in which your eyes just flutter closed and your nails dig into his skin-

Then, finally, fucking finally! Jake tangles his fingers into your hair and pushes you into him. You loosen your hand from around him and put it against his other thigh, allowing him to pull you closer and closer. You breathe deeply through your nose as Jake groans above you - and it takes everything in you not to grin. Instead, you just let him guide you, blink open your eyes to look at him and try to ignore the arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs. He looks so fucking good, it should truly be forbidden, because now you have to press your legs together and steady your palms against him.

Jake feels about the same. His breathing is heavy, his grip on your hair firm, and his eyes are set on you - on how he disappears inside your mouth, again and again, your spit coating him, your throat tight. He can't help but push you down, one time, two times, and pull you back, three times, four times, then push you down and pull you back again. And again. And again. He can hardly concentrate on how good you're making him feel when you're looking that fucking sinful.

Shit.

Before he can come right then and there in your mouth, he tugs you off fully, his jaw clenching involuntarily at the soft whine you let slip. But you can barely be truly bothered when he leans down and presses his lips to yours instead. You're not bothered about anything, really - about anything but his tongue against yours as you cross your arms behind his neck and draw him in, your hands dragging into his hair, your mouth moving desperately against his, sloppily, silently begging him for more.

Jake steadies his palms against the back rest and pulls away heavily, breathing hard as you open your eyes again to look at him - half-lidded, all languid and slow. He swallows hard.

"Do you-", he starts, his voice low and rough and you nod, letting your arms drop from around him to point at the side table.

Have a condom, he'd wanted to ask. In any other situation, he'd have one himself, but something about bringing condoms for a check in on his best friends daughter would have felt incredibly wrong.

"In my makeup bag", you say, your voice thin and breathy as he stretches and reaches for the lavender coloured pouch, unzipping it and looking for the condoms between all the brushes and lipglosses. He can barely pull one out before your fingers close around it, before you've carefully torn it open. He drops your makeup bag back onto the side table right as you straighten up to press a kiss to his lips - almost innocent, almost, if it weren't for the taste of him on your tongue. Then you press a kiss onto his collarbone. Then one right onto his abs. Then one just above that happy trail that has been driving you fucking insane. And then, then, you run your tongue over his tip again before you roll the condom onto him.

Which means it's his turn.

And he doesn't hesitate.

He's not rough in the way he pushes you onto your back on the couch, no, he's smooth with it, hands running along your skin as he cages you in, as he rests his arms next to your head - but he's firm nonetheless. He takes control easily, moving you how and where he wants to, claiming your mouth, pressing his lips to yours. You let him. More even, you relish in giving in to him, in giving him control, in letting go, in trusting him. You bathe in his kisses, in his touches, in his soft grunts as he guides himself into you.

"Jake", you whine against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair, eyes falling shut. The stretch is delicious, heavenly. He fills you slowly, dragging his lips down your throat as you tilt your head back and let out a filthy moan. Your legs wrap around him, pull him closer. His teeth graze your neck, drawing a moan from you as he settles. He gives you a moment to adjust.

A moment too long.

Way too long.

Even with his lips on your skin, with your nails dragging down his neck, digging into his shoulders, even with him inside of you, you need more. You need him to move. Right fucking now.

"Jake", you mewl, your eyes fluttering open. He raises his head to look at you and- Fuck, good lord. You've messed up his hair and his pupils are wide and his cheeks are red and he looks fucking heavenly. So heavenly that your breath catches. You forget what you wanted to say for a moment. Then his thumb brushes your cheek and you remember.

"Move", you breathe, digging your fingers into his skin and wrapping your legs around him tightly. You need him to move. But his lips tug up in that grin again and, as quickly as you can, you add- "Please, Jake."

His grin widens as he looks down at you, all pretty and desperate, clenching around him, lips parting in a silent moan. It would be so easy to tease you, so easy to make you beg and plead for him... And you'd look so gorgeous doing it. You're already so eager to please him.

But not tonight. Not right now. Right now, he just needs to make you feel good. So he leans down, presses a kiss to your lips and moves. Finally.

You open up to him eagerly, letting him run his tongue along yours, moaning into him as he thrusts into you. Deep and languid, hitting all the right spots like no one has before. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

You're really doing this. He's really doing this. You claw at his back, scratch down his skin, sure to leave bruises as he pulls his head up to look at you, to watch the way you arch up into him. Your skin glistens with sweat, your lips part to let out a breathy mewl and the coil in your stomach tightens, tightens, tightens.

Jake shifts his weight onto one arm, frees a hand to brush his fingers through your hair, tugging, tilting your head back, exposing your throat to him. You moan at the ceiling as he drops a filthy kiss onto your collarbone before he lets go of your hair again, trailing his hand down your side instead - and his hand is so fucking big, so big as he draws it down your body, brushing his fingertips over your boob, sweeping over your hip, grasping your thigh. You pull him down onto you, crash your lips back onto his hard. You need to feel him, you need to kiss him, you need to hold him right now. You need him. You need this.

He smoothes his fingers down your skin until they catch on your clit.

"Jake", you moan into his mouth, pathetic even to your own ears. He only grins into the kiss and circles your clit as he thrusts into you, again and again and again, your legs clenching harder and harder and harder around him before he pulls away, pulls even further away even though you chase after his lips, his eyes roaming your face as you squeeze yours shut tightly.

"Look at me, darling", he drawls, his voice low and raspy, his fingers rough against your clit. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."

You let out some kind of deranged moan at his crude wording, opening your eyes and blinking up at him because there's no fucking way you can deny him. Not when he calls you darling like that. Not when he thrusts inside you just right. Not when the view of him, messy hair and grinning and all, has you clenching around him this hard.

You're close. So close.

"Atta girl", he mutters, and that does it for you.

Your legs cramp and your lips part again to let out a gorgeous little moan that Jake swallows up immediately, slotting his mouth over yours and drinking up the way you clench around him. It takes everything in him not to come too. You're so fucking pretty and you're clenching so fucking perfectly around him, but he needs to make you feel good first, he needs to make you come first, he needs...

"Jake", you mewl, face scrunched up, back arched, as he guides you through your second high of the night. "Fuck, fuck."

He's grinning when you come down. You grab his hand and pull it away from your clit. It's too much right now, too much. It takes a second for you to even realise that he's stopped moving entirely, too focused on watching you, on drinking up the sight of you, tousled hair and red cheeks and parted lips and all. You look like an angel, so fucking heavenly that he can't believe his eyes, not really.

"Jake", you mutter, slurring his name so prettily and pulling him in for another kiss, your arms loose around his neck, your fingers lazily brushing through his hair. "Come for me?"

It's barely more than a breath, barely more than a whisper onto his lips, but he hears it, oh, he hears it. He lets out a groan as he draws away again, his eyes roaming your face. You're unbelievable. Fucking unbelievable.

You're asking him to come for you. Begging him to come for you.

And there's no grin in sight, no smug smile, no hint of trying to take control of him - it's not a command, not even close, you're actually, genuinely pleading, your eyes half-lidded and barely focusing, just needing him to feel good now, too.

You're really fucking unbelievable.

He can't remember ever having a woman ask him to come.

He kisses you so hard you become dizzy, pressing his lips onto yours and tangling a hand into your hair. He pushes impossibly closer, thrusts back into you and pulls another string of moans from you, bordering on incomprehensible, hardly more than breaths, mewls that he swallows before they can flee into the empty air of the living room.

His own breathing comes in pants, his muscles clenching and tensing and he's there quicker than he thought he'd be. He's close, really close, and that's when you decide to dig your teeth into his lip and tug and fuck, he's there, alright. He's done then. He spills inside you with a groan, pulling back right as you flash him a dazed grin, eyes fluttering open to take him in.

Your throat feels way too dry all of a sudden.

You don't think you'll get this image out of your head ever again, this image of him coming undone on top of you. It's burning itself into your memory while you watch, never to be forgotten.

Because hell no, you won't forget this.

"Fuck", Jake groans, his voice all rough and hoarse and he leans down to press a kiss to your lips again, slow this time, almost soft. He brushes a thumb down your cheek, lightly cups your jaw and pulls you even closer, your skin warm beneath his fingers.

You tighten your arms around his neck a bit, keeping him firmly there, firmly on top of you, firmly inside of you. But he makes no move to leave, anyway. Just runs his tongue tenderly along yours, unhurried and gentle, and holds you close. You don't know for how long. He could've kept you there for eternity and you wouldn't have minded. How could you mind, basking in the afterglow like this, with his skin sticking to yours, his fingers grazing your cheek, his lips brushing against yours? No, really, you could've stayed there for the rest of forever.

But he pulls back after a while, of course, and pulls out, too. You let out some kind of disappointed mewl, but that's about everything you can do before he gently grasps your wrists and pulls your arms from around him, smiling in a way you can't even begin to complain.

"Lets get you cleaned up, darling", he says softly, carefully helping you sit up, his hands everywhere but nowhere nearly long enough.

You sigh dramatically, blinking your eyes open to look at him, even as you let him pull you up. Your legs feel like pudding. You feel like pudding.

"If we have to", you give in, smiling as Jake grins and shakes his head at you.

"We have to", he chuckles, hauls you up into his arms and waits for you to hold onto him before he carries you into the bathroom - seemingly fucking without any problem whatsoever, as if you weigh nothing at all to him.

You bite down on your lip and rest your forehead against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut to not have to look at him while you contemplate his strength. He should not be this fucking strong. He should not be allowed to be this fucking strong.

"Careful", Jake says, his voice low, as he sets you gently down on the toilet seat. You flinch away from the ice-cold seat against your thighs, fingernails digging into his shoulders for one, two, three seconds before you relax and settle down.

Jake lets go of you just as softly, steadying you until he's sure you won't just fall right off the toilet. He turns and you look up, his back right there to stare at, a smile tugging at your lips again - goddamn, he looks way too good, holy shit. You barely hear the garbage can open and close as he throws away the used condom, then rummages through the drawers until he finds a washcloth that he can soak in luke warm water.

He turns with a smile, grabs your chin tenderly and presses a kiss to your lips, just one, all sweet and languid, so unlike the rest of his kisses. You hardly notice that he's cleaning you off as he kneels down in front of you, simply because you're so entranced by him. God, but he really looks like he's fucking glowing, you hate him for having this effect on you.

He wraps his arms around you again - did he put the washcloth away? fuck, did you miss that? - and you cuddle close, almost (but just almost) letting out a pleased sigh. Fuck, he's so broad and so strong and so comfortable...

He sets you down on the couch and smiles.

"Wait here for me, darling", he mutters, bending down to pick up your shirt (his shirt, really) and slide it carefully over your head once again. You hug yourself close and settle deep into the couch as Jake disappears. His steps echo through the house.

Then there's silence.

Absolute silence.

You rest your head against the headrest and close your eyes, your fingertips absentmindedly drawing circles against your heated skin.

And in this quiet emptiness... the reality of the situation finally sinks in.

For the first time.

Because you just slept with Jake Seresin.

Jake Seresin. Your neighbour Jake Seresin. Your dad's best friend Jake Seresin. Twenty-two years older than you Jake Seresin.

Holy fucking shit. Holy fucking shit.

This actually happened. This actually fucking happened. You slept with Jake Seresin. And somehow... somehow- Somehow you can't feel guilty. You can't feel bad or ashamed. Not like you should. And you definitely should. Because this is Jake Seresin, not some random frat guy. This is forty-seven year old, your dad's best friend Jake Seresin.

But you can't feel bad.

You really do try, for the entirety of a minute or two, while somewhere in the back of the house, a door is opened and closed again. But you still can't feel bad. So you don't.

Jake comes back with a water bottle and his briefs back on, which you can't help but feel disappointed at. He sits down on the couch next to you and hands you the bottle.

"Drink", he nods, so you uncap it carefully and take a sip. It's charming, really, how the first time you'd met him with your car broken down, he'd also handed you a water bottle. A grin tugs at your lips involuntarily. It's just coincidence, you know that, but there's something incredibly sweet about the way he's seemingly always made sure to keep you hydrated. There's something sweet about him, simple as that, with how softly he's cleaned you off and settled you down on the couch after.

You put the bottle down on the table and turn to him.

He looks almost normal again, almost like before. He's still nearly naked though (which you certainly aren't complaining about), and his hair still looks like he's just walked straight out of a hurricane. He raises his eyebrows at you as you take him in.

"We should probably talk about this", you say, your voice cracking halfway through. You're not sure you want to talk about it. And with the way Jake's face falls... yeah, he doesn't seem to, either. But he still straightens up and brings some more distance between the both of you.

Maybe that's smart, actually. Maybe. But then again, you've already done everything you could to try and feel bad, so instead of doing the reasonable (you're already way past the reasonable anyway) and pushing further away from Jake too, you stretch out a leg and drape it over his lap again.

A muscle in his jaw ticks and he grasps your ankle almost immediately, as if there's no other choice but to touch you even while he's trying to keep his distance.

"But", you grin, scooching a little closer as an idea forms in your mind, "You know, I still have to shower. Chlorine is so bad for the skin unless you wash it off. And I did spend quite a while in the pool today."

...

It's Monday afternoon and even hotter than the weeks before. You're sitting outside, sunbathing in the fifteenth layer of sunscreen of the day, with sunglasses on that hardly seem to do anything and wearing nothing but a bikini because god, you're fucking melting. It hasn't been this hot the entire year.

The only really good thing about the scorching heat is that Jake, for lack of swimming pools in his garden, is doing sets in yours. You're incredibly glad for your sunglasses, because even though your mother is sitting right next to you, burying her nose in another of the novels she'd checked out from the library two weeks earlier, you can ogle Jake without worrying that she'll catch you.

And goddamn, you're ogling, alright.

It's not like you haven't stared at him enough. Over the past five days, you've barely been doing anything else. Well, except for those times you'd had your eyes closed and his lips on yours, of course. But still, you don't really feel like you could ever possibly get enough of staring at him.

And right now, right now, with the way he climbs out of the pool, arms tensing and flexing, water dropping down his skin, his hands running through his soaking wet hair...

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You bite down on your lip and press your thighs together. God, if you aren't careful, you'll have to disappear into the house and shower early, because you're sure you could not pass the dark spot on your bikini bottoms off as sweat.

Jake turns away to grab his towel and starts to dry off and you're already mulling over how you'll phrase the message you'll send him (something along the lines of 'tell my parents you need to use the bathroom' with a shower selfie attached? You've already sent him way worse things while he'd been at work) when your mother suddenly gasps.

Three heads turn to her simultaneously.

"Jake!", she chokes, her book sinking down into her lap. Jake raises his eyebrows at her, just as clueless as you are. She parts her lips and then clamps her mouth shut again, apparently lost for words. "Your back."

It hits you like a tidal wave.

Oh, shit. Oh, holy fucking shit.

You should've noticed earlier. Much earlier. You should've- God, he'd known, too, hadn't he? But you'd been the one to stare at his back long enough that you should've noticed. Yesterday. You should've noticed the long, red lines running down his skin. Your long, red lines running down his skin. Fuck, fuck-

"Oh, that-"

Jake stumbles over his own words for the first time ever since you've met him. His eyes find yours, for just a moment or two, and you can see the panic in them. It's the second fucking day your parents are back. The second fucking day. And you're already messing up, you're already-

"I knew it", your mother grins, clapping her hands together and letting out a laugh that startles you so hard you flinch. "I knew you were a womanizer after all! I mean, looking like that, there's no other way-"

"Honey!", your father gasps, and she giggles and throws her hands up. But he's grinning too and you know him well enough to say he isn't really mad that she's complimenting Jake.

"Sorry, sorry, just saying." She chuckles to herself and grabs her book again, her voice dropping to a mumble. "I can't believe it though, we go away for five days and suddenly he's hooking up with someone! I think we need to stop inviting him over so often if we want him to find somebody."

Your father laughs and gets up to offer Jake a beer.

"You didn't happen to see who he brought home, did you?", your mother asks, her voice almost too casual to really be casual as she turns her head to look at you with raised eyebrows.

You choke on your breath.

"Um-", you start, but your father already rolls his eyes and saves you without meaning to.

"You're not nosy at all", he chides, resting his beer bottle against her foot. She tugs it away and shakes her head at him.

"Just curious", she grins. "Just curious."

Yeah. Just curious. You pray to god that just curious won't one day expose the little secret you've got going on with Jake. Next time, you'll really have to be more careful with your nails.

[randxmthxughts]

Be Mine - Neteyam x Metkayina ! reader (fake dating)

summary: the one, where neteyam pretends to court the reader to avoid all of the nagging from his parents and a group of admirers. of course, it doesn’t take long for her to fall for him too

warnings: none really, pure fluff, fake dating trope, jealousy, loak x tsireya canon, events take place five years after the battle between the metkayina and the sky people, so aged up characters

wc: >12k

a/n: now that i finished writing this, i realized that i wrote an avatar version of bridgerton, lol </3 if you enjoy this, i love getting compliments and reblogs

masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Everybody knew about Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan, ever since his family first stepped into your village. His blue skin, golden eyes, and the strange tail, were easily the talk of almost every conversation among your peers. Yet, despite the obvious physical differences, there was always something about him that fascinated you, lured you in.

Many things changed after the Battle at the Three Brothers. With the help of your soul sisters and brothers Tulkuns, and joined by the great Toruk Makto, your Olo’yektan had an upper hand and a decisive victory over the sky people. It was a victory to be passed down in stories to your future generations and to be celebrated gloriously among the clan. This year was marking its fifth anniversary, with a big celebration that would last the whole night.

Since that battle, Neteyam has truly transformed into a man, earning approving and respectful looks from all around him. His forest upbringing never held Neteyam back from growing into his place among the Metkayina: his once slim shoulders broadened, matching the most skillful divers, height increased, and his muscles started showing without even flexing. In addition to his looks, his physical appearance never betrayed his personality. It seemed like Neteyam had the purest, kindest heart amongst all, always rushing to help the villagers with their chores, big and small; whether it meant fixing up a canoe, carrying baskets of food, or sometimes even babysitting, that is if he had time. His father was reluctant to stop the training with his sons, just in case of another attack from the sky people, so Neteyam rarely had any time for himself. 

Guys wanted to be his friends, while the girls were fawning over him, hoping to become his mate. It was no secret that now, being of an age to pick the one for himself, parents’ sudden attention and admiring looks were following him everywhere. But Neteyam didn’t rush to choose.

Unlike his brother, Lo'ak seemed to have his life all figured out, especially when it came to matters of the heart. Falling for Tsireya, Lo’ak had many expectations to live up to, if he wanted to be with her. After all, she was the daughter of the chief, and a tsakarem, the future Tsahik of Metkayina. And while at first, Tsireya’s parents were hesitant of the bond she was forming with the forest boy, Lo’ak’s family spoke for himself. His father had played a significant role in the victory at the Three Brothers, providing guidance and knowledge that helped secure their win. Lo'ak also worked hard on himself to earn her parents’ approval. So the day, when Lo’ak finally returned home with Tsireya's necklace around his neck, a symbol of acceptance, was the day when Neteyam felt the weight on his shoulders double in size. 

You were no different from the other girls adoring Neteyam, as you had also developed a crush on him during your teenage years. It was unavoidable, really. Before you grew out of your friendship with Tsireya, the two of you used to be quite close. So when the Sully’s first moved to Awa'atlu, and Tsireya was assigned to guide the kids, you were often hanging around them too. 

But it was easy for you to accept that you were never going to be an equal match for Neteyam. He had many admirers who were stronger than you, more skilled, more talented, and had respected families. Everything came into the play, and you were losing at every aspect. So, you have successfully suppressed this silly crush for years, before you could finally push it to the very far back of your mind and forget about it. Instead, you occupied yourself with your learning. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Despite not being friends anymore, Tsireya and you have always maintained a polite demeanor towards each other. Now it did feel a little strange to be paired with her for the gathering of pxorna’ fruits, but you had to follow through. As per tradition, the entire clan was divided into groups to prepare for the upcoming celebration, and you were assigned to work together. Even though climbing tall trees wasn't exactly your strong suit as a water Na'vi, protesting wasn't an option: after all, the sweetest fruits were always at the very top. So, to make the task easier, you and Tsireya took turns climbing the trees and picking the fruits, then one would lower the bag for the other to catch and store into the big woven baskets provided. This method ensured that the bag wouldn't become too heavy for you to carry back down.

Ready to lower another batch of fruits, you call out to Tsireya to catch it. But instead of a response, all you can hear is her laughter. Surely enough, when you look down, you find her engrossed in a conversation with Lo’ak, completely ignoring you. You try to catch her attention one more time, before huffing under your breath, and deciding to climb down by yourself. You clutch the bag tightly against your chest, but as you get closer to the ground, some of the fruits start slipping out of your grip. Your hand reaches out instinctively to catch at least one, when you suddenly begin to lose your balance. You can almost imagine the damage to your back muscles, once you will hit the ground, when a pair of hands help you down on the ground.

“I got you,” you hear an accompanying voice. 

“Thank you,” you blink in surprise, as you find Neteyam Sully to be your savior.

“You spilled some but they should be good,” he grins at you, as he crouches down and starts gathering the fruits from the ground.

Quietly, you empty your bag into the basket, throwing a glance at the other basket. It’s almost empty. You sigh out of frustration. There was still a lot of work to do, but Tsireya now seems to be completely distracted. At this rate, you’ll never finish. 

“Lo’ak, that’s enough,” Neteyam grabs his brother by the shoulder, interrupting his chat with Tsireya. An amused smile creeps up on your face.

“Come on, bro, let’s stay,” Lo’ak gestures to the trees around him, “At least, there is work to do here. You know the area where Ronal sent us for fruit is dead.”

“I don’t care, if we have to gather fruits from the dead trees,” Neteyam tries to pull him but Lo’ak stands his ground, “Lo’ak, you know that whatever Ronal decides is not up to discussion.”

“Bro, we spent an hour climbing those trees for nothing,” Lo’ak points to the empty baskets they brought, “If we stay here, we can help out the girls and gather for ourselves too. No one has to know.”

“Neteyam, please,” Tsireya pleads.

“Ah, what the hell?” Neteyam shakes his head before breaking into a toothy grin, “But these baskets are gonna have to be full, Lo’ak.”

“Sure.”

You roll your eyes at how easily Neteyam agrees to the empty promise. You weren’t close with Lo’ak but even you knew how often he got into trouble for not keeping his word. It doesn’t take long to confirm your suspicion: while you and Neteyam are occupied with the task on hand, Lo’ak and Tsireya disappear from underneath the trees. 

“Great,” you huffed, emptying yet another full bag into the basket.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help,” Neteyam says with a gentle tone.

You watch him empty out his bag into your basket too, instead of his. 

“You don’t have to do that,” you feel guilty. Does he always work harder to overcompensate for Lo’ak’s behavior?

“I don’t mind.”

He takes it so light-heartedly, you wonder if it’s a daily occurrence. You stare off into the direction where Tsireya and Lo’ak had previously disappeared.

“Don’t you find it annoying?” you ask him curiously. Surely, even he must have his limits.

“They mean well, give them a break,” Neteyam chuckles, nudging your shoulder.

“You know if you keep covering for him all the time, he will never learn his lesson,” you shake your head, “Lo’ak will be the only adult who doesn’t know how to take care of simple chores.”

“He’s not that hopeless,” he laughs, finding your reaction amusing, “He’s just a kid in love.”

You don’t disagree with him, instead falling quiet. There was no place for you to talk about his brother’s behavior, you weren’t close.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be discussing your family matters like this.”

“No need to apologize, Y/N,” his gaze softens, “Besides, wouldn’t you prefer a forest Na’vi climbing the trees, instead of Tsireya? I promise I am much better at it.”

“Of course you are,” you return his smile.

The two of you get back to work, with mostly Neteyam picking the fruits, and you filling up the baskets. Despite your initial annoyance with Tsireya for leaving you, you seem to enjoy working with Neteyam way more. He’s quick and attentive, and you are grateful for him overtaking the climbing part, because you were always a little clumsy when it came to physical activities.

Soon enough, the baskets are nearly full, so you decide to regain your strength and take a break. Neteyam peels fruits for the both of you, and you sit under the trees, enjoying the shade. 

“Hey, did you make that bag?” he suddenly points at the pocket attached to your belt. It was a small woven bag that you had on you all the time, in case you found beads or rocks you could put to use.

“I did.”

“It looks great,” Neteyam smiles, “I’m not surprised though. You always had golden hands.”

“That is not true,” you disagree.

“Are you joking?” his smile grows wider, “Y/N, you make the most beautiful items. I see people approaching you everyday for help. Do you know anybody else in the village who is as skilled at weaving as you?”

“Well…no,” you shake your head.

“Believe me, you really have a talent for it.”

It wasn’t just weaving that he was referring to. You were pretty handy when it came to making jewelry, also clothes, and headpieces. When you first indulged yourself in weaving, eager to learn to make beautiful pieces for yourself, you never expected that it would turn into a hobby. Your expertise soon expanded to other things too, like making resin weapons, toys, you even took up pottery. Eventually, people noticed and started approaching you with small tasks here and there, and you were glad to help out. But your clan didn’t have a name for your occupation, so you never considered yourself to fit into one. 

“Remember the ceremonial belt you helped me make? It still holds up incredibly,” Neteyam reminds you with a toothy grin.

Of course you remember. It was exactly four years ago, when one night, Neteyam came to your marui, ears pressed flat against his skull in embarrassment. He had to explain the reason for his late visit in front of your parents, saying that he had only the night to make his ceremonial belt. It took you by surprise, because Neteyam wasn’t known for slacking off. He just didn’t think that it would be so difficult to make a damned belt. Scolded by his parents for not starting out sooner, he was then too embarrassed to ask them for help, so there he was instead, asking for yours. Having a soft spot for Neteyam, your parents allowed you to help him, despite the late hour. You two barely caught any sleep that night, working on the belt, making sure that it looked special, different from the other guys’. Neteyam watched your movements attentively, eager to learn, so sometimes you would pass the belt back to him to practice.

“I see you still wearing it sometimes,” you smile.

“You really helped me out back then, I was going to get skinned if I didn’t have a belt by the time for my ceremony,” he pauses, “I still owe you for that.”

“Nonsense, no one owes me anything. Neither do you,” you shake your head, “I like helping.”

“You can’t possibly help everyone with nothing in return.”

“I mean, people bring me food here and there,” you chuckle.

“No gifts?” he quirks his eyebrow.

“Not so much. I can make my own gifts,” you shrug, “But Mateä brings me seashells sometimes.”

“Seashells? Do you like those?”

“Oh, they make necklaces and cover ups look so lovely. Of course, they’re a little tricky to work with but it’s worth it,” you explain, “And Mateä always makes sure to bring the most beautiful shells he can find… Sometimes, he even lets me have the ones he picked for himself.”

You knew Mateä ever since you were kids. He was only a year older than you, but he was very mature for his age, way more than anyone you knew. Mateä was also one of the most skilled swimmers in your clan, which allowed him to swim outside of the perimeters and discover great depths. So whenever he had a small task for you, like fixing up his spear, or making an armor for his ilu, in return he would bring you the most unique-looking, colorful shells he could find. 

“Why would Mateä pick shells for himself?” Neteyam squints.

"He probably just likes them," you shrug, "But there were times when he asked me to make a shell necklace for him, but then he would insist that I keep it for myself because he knew how much I liked it."

“So he makes you make your own gifts?” Neteyam snorts.

“Hey, that’s rude,” you give him a playful slap on the arm, “It doesn’t matter. I have many beautiful things thanks to him.”

“I’m only kidding… I just think that he might like you, that’s all.”

“Maybe.”

You don’t deny his accusation, partly because there is some truth to it. Mateä’s and your fathers were close friends, so they were quite happy with the possibility of you and him bonding some day. And while growing up there was no pressure on either side, the two of you had always felt that something might happen. You were never opposed to the idea anyway. Mateä was a good match for you: he was admired for his strength and swimming, and he was very respectful towards you. And even when you had your little crush on Neteyam, you still knew that Mateä was a more likely option. More recently though, you suspected that Mateä was eyeing you too. He just never made a move… not a direct one anyway. 

“Is he taking you as his date to the celebration tonight?” Neteyam interrupts your thoughts.

“Are we supposed to bring dates?” you ask, teasing. Sure, some brought dates to celebrations to make their bonds known but it wasn’t a requirement.

“Exactly! My father wants me to bring a date, like this isn’t a celebration of a battle.” he emphasizes the last word with his thick accent, clearly annoyed. 

“Why does he want you to bring a date?” you cock your head.

“Because I lied,” he blurts out, a guilty expression covering his face.

“Lied?”

“That I am courting someone,” he cringes, “Even though that someone doesn’t exist.”

“Why would you lie about courting someone nonexistent when you have dozens of girls ready to be swept away by you?” you stifle a laugh, “Especially Zìsmì.”

“Please don’t mention her,” Neteyam rolls his eyes, “I don’t mean to sound rude but Zìsmì is very persistent. I sometimes have to turn directions to avoid running into her.”

“That’s kind of mean,” you decide to tease him, saying that with a stern tone, like you mean it. Neteyam shifts uncomfortably. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s rude of me to talk about her that way,” he begins to apologize but stops at the sound of your laughter.

“I’m only joking, Neteyam,” you tilt your head back, “Don’t worry, everyone knows how pushy Zìsmì can get. If the two of you were ever to become mates, she would dominate you completely.”

“Thank you!” he agrees eagerly, “Please tell that to my parents. They have been so persistent that I reciprocate her attention. I mean… just because she is a good hunter and has respected parents, doesn’t mean I click with her.”

“Is that why you lied?”

“Yeah… I just didn’t think it through. I only said it to get them off my back for a while,” he explains, his voice low, “But when I told them that I wanted to keep it a secret for a bit longer, they got too excited. So sometimes, they kick me out of the house to go on my secret dates.”

“Secret dates?” 

“I kind of told them that the girl I’m courting hasn’t told her parents yet, that’s why we have to hide.”

“For a lie you didn’t think through, you sure had many details to add,” you’re amused by the clear regret on his face, “So they want to meet her tonight?”

“To confirm that I am not lying. After all, it’s been going for over a month now,” he sighs.

“A month?”

“I know, I’m going to get skinned,” Neteyam hides his face in his palms.

“Skinned by whom? Dad or Zismi?” Lo’ak’s voice interrupts your conversation.

Hand in hand, Tsireya and Lo’ak emerge from the trees and sit in front of you. She throws a concerned look at Neteyam.

“Dad, of course” Neteyam breathes out, still not lifting his head, “I can deal with Zìsmì later.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Lo’ak smirks, “By the way, you owe me, bro. Zismi was going to invite you as her date tonight.”

“What?” Neteyam looks up at his brother, “How do you know?”

“Oh, she asked me in the morning. She was looking for you, and then told me that she wanted to invite you.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her that she shouldn’t because you already had a date,” he shrugs.

“Lo’ak,” Tsireya groans, disappointed, “Now your brother will have to apologize to her, once she catches on the lie.”

“I am so dead,” Neteyam grunts, “If I could only have a little more time to think about it, I’m sure I can figure it out. But it’s like she’s conspiring with my parents against me.”

“Maybe you just need to finally turn her down,” you suggest, earning a chuckle from Lo’ak, “What?”

“Neteyam and rejecting someone don't go in the same sentence. He would rather run and sneak around the village, than tell someone that they annoy him.”

“I just don’t find that type of conversation pleasant. Or necessary,” Neteyam objects.

“They are necessary if the person doesn’t get the hint,” Tsireya adds, “Remember when Nauru -”

“Please don’t remind me of Nauru,” Neteyam interrupts her with a pleading voice.

“What did Nauru do?” you ask, now curious.

“Oh, you don’t know?” a grin stretches on Lo’ak’s lips, “It was insane.”

“It’s not funny, Lo’ak,” Tsireya shushes him, turning to you, “At first, it was kind of sweet. Nauru would leave gifts for Neteyam by his marui. But there was this one time she left him flowers, and, of course, she didn’t know that some of those were poisonous. Neteyam almost lost a finger because of her. She would also follow him everywhere, even show up to his hunts, almost earning an arrow in her head by another hunter. It was getting out of hand, and Neteyam had to reject her directly and ask her to give up.”

“Enough about Nauru,” Neteyam groans, “What am I going to do now? Even if I do turn down Zismi, I’d still have mom and dad to deal with.”

“You’re right,” Lo’ak agrees, empathizing with his brother, “I’m sure you’ll like someone eventually, but we both know how impatient our parents can get.”

The four of you fall silent for a moment, contemplating a solution to Neteyam's situation. But somewhere deep down in your heart, you feel a little relieved that he didn’t have his eye set on anyone yet. You are also partially grateful to your parents for not pressuring you in the same way. It must be hard having the Toruk Makto for your father.

“I know what to do to win more time, Neteyam!” Tsireya excitedly interrupts your thought process, “Remember the time Ao’nung asked Sìlälaw to play along, as if he was courting her?”

“That was pretend?” you ask. Surely, you missed out on a lot of things by not being friends with Tsireya anymore.

“Of course,” she says, like it’s obvious, “Before finding his mate, Ao’nung was getting scolded everyday by our mom and dad. So, he asked Sìlälaw to help him out, pretend like he was following her around, and she just didn’t like him back.”

“I don’t have time for that,” Neteyam shakes his head.

“No, hear her out, bro,” Lo’ak holds up his palm, “It worked once, right? Mom and dad stopped bothering you, when you lied about courting someone. Just show up this once, with anyone, and that’s it.”

“And afterwards?”

“Just lie,” Lo’ak exclaims, “Say that it didn’t work out or something, who cares.”

“And when it doesn't ‘work out’,” Tsireya chimes in, “You can win some more time by being ‘heartbroken’ and ‘not ready’ to pursue another girl yet.”

“It seems so excessive,” you comment, considering the plan, “Isn’t it easier to tell the truth?”

“The truth doesn’t work,” Neteyam lets out a painful chuckle, then turns to his brother, “Where would I even find someone to agree?”

“Now that’s tough,” Lo’ak hums, “Half of the girls are swooning over you, you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“What about Y/N?” Tsireya points at you.

“What about me?” you raise your eyebrows, confused.

“You don’t care for Neteyam like that,” she starts explaining, “And, you’ve had Mateä running after you for years now, but he still hasn’t even asked you out yet. Maybe if he sees you with Neteyam for one night, it’ll make him jealous and finally give him the push he needs.”

Neteyam snorts, like it’s an unlikely possibility.

“Mateä is never going to act out of jealousy, he’s not like that,” you object, “What if he stops speaking to me afterwards?”

“Then we will send Neteyam to talk to him. Neteyam will tell him that he’s heartbroken over you, and that you rejected him for Mateä,” Lo’ak chimes in, “He will dig for some information, nudge Mateä to confess to you. It’s so easy, like it was written in the stars.”

You can’t really find a flaw in Lo’ak’s suggestion. Maybe receiving a confirmation about your feelings is just the thing Mateä’s waiting for.

“Still, I’m not crazy. Do you even know how much pressure it would be to face all those girls?”

“Right, I shouldn’t be putting Y/N into such a position,” Neteyam supports your point.

“Y/N doesn’t have to face them at all. You can turn down those girls easily because you’ll have a perfect excuse. They would be too embarrassed to approach Y/N.”

“I guess,” Neteyam hums, “What do you think, Y/N? I mean, no pressure, but I would owe you for the rest of my life.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug your shoulders. It just feels icky.

“Come on, Y/N, for the sake of our past friendship,” Tsireya pleads with you.

“Okay… it’s just for one night, right?” you agree. It wasn’t.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You feel like your heart is about to leap out of your chest, when Neteyam takes your hand in his. You take in a deep breath, heading towards the celebration with him. Lo’ak and Tsireya walk ahead of you.

It feels odd to be wearing Neteyam’s necklace instead of your own. That was the courtesy of Tsireya, who was convinced that once anyone saw you two exchange your necklaces, they would be convinced that the courting was serious. 

“I’m scared,” you admit through your teeth.

“Thank you again,” Neteyam whispers, squeezing your hand.

“Come on, guys,” Lo’ak turns to the two of you with an excited smile, “Act natural, okay?”

You nod your head but you’re not sure how you’re going to survive through the night. The closer you get to the celebration, the more people start noticing you. Hushed voices and gasps is all that catches your attention, even though Neteyam walks right beside you. Why does everyone look so surprised? You almost feel offended by the looks you get. Were Neteyam and you really that incompatible? 

The four of you take a seat around a small fire, pairs of eyes watching your every moment. You can’t help but sense Neteyam’s nervousness traveling down his body.

“You alright?” you whisper.

“Not really,” he admits, “Have you seen my parents yet?”

As you scan the crowd of Na'vi dancing and singing, your eyes land on Neytiri talking to someone. Jake stands beside her but his attention seems to be elsewhere, as he occasionally looks around him. Both of them are wearing celebratory clothing that is slightly more elaborate than any of yours. After all, it was a testament to their importance in the victorious battle.

“It looks like your father is looking for you.”

“Shit,” Neteyam lets out, nervously. You can’t help but laugh at his reaction.

“Keep it up,” Tsireya says, “The more relaxed you seem, the more believable this will look.”

She gestures at the two of you, and as you look down, you notice how close you and Neteyam are pressed to each other. It’s like you’re trying to hide from the attention you’re getting. 

It’s not long before you catch Mateä watching you from afar. Your heart beats faster, when his eyes travel to your hand still intertwined with Neteyam’s. He gulps down, and you wonder if he feels jealous.

“Mateä’s looking,” Neteyam points out, “You want to take it up by a notch?”

“What do you mean?” you turn your face to him, confused. 

There is a hint of playfulness in Neteyam’s eyes before he slowly leans in, his mouth close to your ear. You shudder under his breath.

“Pretend I said something funny, and laugh,” he whispers.

“I can’t pretend to laugh,” you whisper back, annoyed, “Can’t you just tell me something funny?”

Neteyam pulls back slightly to look at you. There is an amused smile resting on his face.

“We’re really bad at this, aren’t we?”

“You think?” you quirk your eyebrow at him, earning a small laugh from him.

“Okay, this can work too,” he says. You can’t help but smile at him.

But when you check for Mateä again, he’s nowhere to be found. Your smile drops. What if you hurt him? As if sensing your sudden change in mood, Neteyam gently squeezes your hand. 

"Are you alright?" he asks, “Is Mateä still looking?”

“No, I think he walked away,” you mumble, standing up, “I’m going to get us something to drink, okay?”

“Alright,” Neteyam mumbles back, watching you leave.

“Are you crazy?” Lo’ak slaps Neteyam on the arm, “Go with her, or they’re gonna eat her up alive.”

Following Lo’ak’s gaze, Neteyam sees Zìsmì with her friends. He quickly gets to his feet to follow you but you have already disappeared in the crowd.

“Y/N,” Zìsmì’s voice catches your attention. 

Sighing, you turn around to face her. She has a coy smile on her lips, as she takes you in from head to toe. You wait for her to talk.

“The necklace, did you make that yourself?” Zismi points to your neck, pretending as if she didn’t recognize it right away.

“It looks a lot like Neteyam’s necklace,” one of her friends says, before you could even open your mouth.

“That’s a little weird,” Zismi comments.

“You have a good eye, it is Neteyam’s necklace,” you gather as much confidence as you can, watching their expressions change, “He gave it to me.”

“Why would he give you his necklace?” Zismi scoffs.

“Because I wanted to see it on her,” you suddenly hear Neteyam’s voice, as he appears next to you, “Everything Y/N touches, basically turns into a lucky charm.”

The girls stare at Neteyam, their eyes widened. Again, you feel a little offended. Why is everyone so surprised that he likes you? Before you can react, Neteyam gently pulls you by your hand.

“We have to go, girls,” he throws with his most polite smile.

Feeling their stares like daggers in your back, Neteyam moves closer to you and wraps his arm around your waist protectively, leading you away from the prying eyes.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he cranes his neck to whisper.

“It’s alright, I’m not scared of Zismi,” you turn to look at him, “Unlike you.”

“Very funny,” Neteyam rolls his eyes. 

His arm is still firmly wrapped around your waist, as the two of you continue walking. The warmth of his body against yours feels almost comforting, despite the curious glances you receive. Neteyam seems to notice it too, as he tightens his grip on you, pulling you a little closer to him. 

"Just ignore them," there is a hint of annoyance in his voice. You wonder if it’s bothering him more than you.

As you get closer to the big fire, you hear a loud cheer erupt from the crowd. Instinctively, you want to find out what’s happening. A chuckle of disbelief escapes from your mouth, when you see Neytiri and Jake dancing around the fire, to the fast rhythm of the drums. While Neytiri’s movements are gracious and fluid, Jake’s are… Well, Jake is trying his best. She throws her head back in laughter, when he makes an awkward movement, but no one else dares to laugh at the Toruk Makto, except for his mate. Suddenly, he sweeps Neytiri up into his arms and twirls her around the fire. The Na’vi cheer them on and on, clapping their hands in amusement.

You join in on the clapping, caught up in their infectious joy. When you turn to look at Neteyam, however, you notice that he's cringing.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“They are acting like little kids,” Neteyam huffs.

“I think it’s sweet,” you nudge him with a smile, “Loosen up, Neteyam.”

“How can I?” he rolls his eyes at you.

“If your father can relax for one night, so can you,” you push him into the circle, with a loud shout, “Dance, Neteyam!”

Neteyam stands frozen for a moment, clearly embarrassed by your sudden action. His ears lower, and he tries to step out of the circle, but Lo’ak nudges him back in. The music picks up and the crowd cheers louder, but Neteyam stands still, clearly irritated by your behavior.

You can’t watch him anymore, so you jump to his rescue, and take his hands in yours. He tries to resist at first, but it doesn’t take much convincing on your part to get him to loosen up. As you embarrass yourself with the silly movements and faces you make, you finally coax a smile out of him. You don’t care about the others watching you, you only focus on getting him to dance with you. Soon enough, Neteyam’s confidence grows, and he starts to move more freely to the rhythm with you. You hold onto his hands, feeling the warmth of his touch, and beam with adoration as you watch him give in. 

Other couples start joining in, and the circle becomes more crowded. People start pressing closer, pushing you and Neteyam towards each other, with barely any space left. His hands instinctively find your waist, yours rest on his biceps, holding him in place. You’re not sure whether it’s the heat of the fire, or it’s just him, but you feel warmer and warmer, every time his eyes meet yours. 

“You okay?” you smile, noticing drops of sweat rolling down his face, “It’s too hot here.”

Before he can answer, you lead him out of the crowd. You catch a look from your parents’ from afar, and can only roll your eyes at them. You know they were going to question you about tonight but you don’t want to think about it for now. At least they don’t seem to be mad? 

Distracted, you turn around, nearly colliding with Neteyam's parents. They look a little lightheaded, and you suspect they've had a drink made from the pxorna' fruits you gathered earlier. Quickly, you bow low and bring your fingers to your forehead in greeting. Neteyam shifts uncomfortably beside you.

“Son… and Y/N,” Jake looks between the two of you with an approving smile. 

“Y/N, are you the one Neteyam was hiding from us?” Neytiri asks curiously.

“Mom,” Neteyam tenses up, “Let’s not make her uncomfortable, please.” 

Neteyam looks so stressed, you wonder how his parents believed his lies in the first place. Maybe they were blinded by the excitement?

“We’re just glad that it’s been her this whole time,” Jake says, smiling at you, “You’re very talented, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you reply, shying away from the compliment. 

“We were worried that Neteyam was lying just to avoid us,” Neytiri explains.

Neteyam and you chuckle nervously, hoping that this isn’t her smart way of cracking you.

“Are your parents aware?” she asks, scanning the crowd. You quickly draw her attention back to you.

“They are now… I am sorry that Neteyam had to keep this a secret from you, that was my wish,” you lie, “It is just that my mother likes rushing into many things, and I still needed some time to get to know Neteyam.”

You weren’t completely off; your mother did have a tendency to rush into things. If she had known that you were open to dating Mateä, she would have already told him by now.

“No need to apologize,” Jake chimes in, “If anything, I feel bad for forcing your hand.”

“You should feel bad,” Neteyam grunts but you can sense that he’s holding back from saying more.

“It’s alright, I’m happy to be here tonight with Nete,” you pat Neteyam on the back.

Dropping a nickname seems to be just enough to convince them. You notice the satisfied smiles settle on their faces. 

“Ma’Jake, let’s leave them alone. After all, it’s their first outing as mates,” Neytiri murmurs, pulling Jake by his hand.

“We’re not mated yet,” Neteyam cringes, but she only finds it amusing.

“It is only a matter of time, you are your father’s son after all.”

As the two of them walk away, laughing, Neteyam takes a deep breath to calm himself down. You can sense how embarrassed he feels, knowing what you heard. But you didn’t mind it all, he has no reason to be this upset.

“Are you okay?” you nudge him but Neteyam refuses to look at you, “Hey, don’t be like that.”

“I just...I didn’t think it would be this hard,” he admits, looking down.

“What would be hard? Pretending to be in love with me?” you tease, craning your neck to see his face.

“No,” he doesn’t even crack a smile, “I’m sorry for getting you into this mess.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I am enjoying this,” you take his hand in yours, finally getting him to look at you, “Besides, we’re almost done, right?”

“Right,” he nods.

“Now, come on, pretend that I said something funny and laugh,” you playfully repeat his words. Neteyam's lips twitch into a smile before he breaks into a genuine chuckle, causing your heart to skip a beat. You love the sound of his laughter.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“You two look so good together, I am not ready for this to be over yet,” Tsireya beams, as she plops down in front of Neteyam and you. Lo’ak follows her suit.

“Maybe you should keep it up for a little longer, bro. The way you were dancing - “ Lo’ak starts to imitate Neteyam’s dancing but Neteyam slaps him.

“Stop that, skxawng.”

“Just ignore him, Neteyam, you were great out there,” Tsireya says softly.

“Seriously, being less tense suits you,” you agree, noticing Neteyam hiding a shy smile.

“I got to admit, it wasn’t bad at all,” Lo’ak straightens up, “I just haven’t seen you dance since Naye.”

“Let it go, Lo’ak,” Neteyam grunts.

“Who’s Naye?”

“Neteyam’s first crush from back home,” Lo’ak snickers, enjoying how far he can push his brother, “Neteyam was so in love with her, he couldn't even talk to her. So this one time, during a celebration, he decided to express his feelings by dancing for her.”

“Well, what did she say?” your ears perk up in anticipation.

“She just pretended like it wasn’t happening and walked away,” Lo’ak breaks into laughter.

“That’s not funny,” Tsireya covers Lo’ak’s mouth with her hand, “It’s alright, Neteyam, we all had our share of silly teenage crushes.”

She unintentionally throws you a knowing look, for support, but Lo’ak immediately catches on.

“Who did Y/N have a crush on?” he asks. 

You stiffen, feeling their gazes intensifying on you.

“It doesn’t matter now,” you try to switch the topic but Lo’ak doesn’t seem to give up.

“It shouldn’t matter then, if you say it,” he pushes, “It can’t be that bad.”

You let out a sigh, knowing that you won't be able to get out of this.

“I used to have a crush on Neteyam,” you admit as laughter erupts.

You shoot daggers at Lo’ak, who is now rolling in the sand, while Tsireya tries to cover up her laughter. You turn to Neteyam, who looks at you with a shy smile on his face.

“Before you say anything, I feel like I should clear this,” you hold up your hand, “It was just a fleeting crush before I got to know you. And it disappeared. So please don’t feel uncomfortable.”

“So you’re saying your crush disappeared right after you got to know him?” Lo’ak asks, another wave of laughter hitting him. Shit. That’s not how you wanted it to sound.

Neteyam only rolls his eyes at his brother, while Tsireya tries her best to keep a straight face.

“I’m sorry, we just sneaked some of the pxorna’ juice,” she explains. 

“I can tell,” you grit through your teeth. You have now truly understood the embarrassment Neteyam felt a moment ago.

“Y/N, please don’t take this to heart,” Tsireya rests her palm on your thigh, “Who cares what happened five years ago? We know you’re interested in Mateä now anyway.”

“Yeah,” Neteyam clears his throat, agreeing, “It was a silly crush, right? It’s all in the past now.”

You nod, but you can't shake off the feeling of unease. You couldn’t help but wonder if Neteyam was relieved that he didn't have to reject one more girl, or if he was secretly disappointed that you were interested in Mateä instead of him.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When Neteyam asked you to keep up the fake courting till the hunting festivities to make his heartbreak more believable, you agreed. The festivities were supposed to begin only in a few weeks, to mark the beginning of the hunting season, so you thought it wasn’t a big deal. You could wait. Besides, it seemed like things were looking up for the two of you.

Neteyam was finally getting some time for himself. His father had started to ease up on him, cutting short his training. Knowing that Neteyam was supposedly courting you, Jake wanted to give his son a chance to focus on that. 

The past few months had been so tough on Neteyam both physically and mentally, that all he wanted to do was rest and recharge. So he would often use that free time to drop by your marui and ask to take naps on your floor, while you were working on whatever project you had. Since your parents were mostly out, letting you work in peace, Neteyam’s quiet snoring was no burden. And if anyone was visiting you to ask for help with their items, they would only throw an amused look at sleeping Neteyam and leave you two alone, helping you keep up your fake image without much effort. Sometimes, you would catch yourself watching him too, admiring the peaceful expression on his face, as he slept. Of course, this didn’t escape your parents’ attention, as they were peppering you with questions about Neteyam’s intentions almost every night. But you mostly ignored their inquiries, focused on the simple pleasure of being able to help Neteyam.

Slowly, the girls who used to fawn over Neteyam not too long ago also started to lose their interest. Especially with Zismi's parents informing Neytiri that they were considering another match for their daughter. Neteyam felt relieved by the idea that he didn’t have to reject anyone anymore.

On the other hand, you started noticing more efforts from Mateä. Even though you feared that he wouldn’t act out of jealousy, Mateä seemed to be persistent in seeing you more often than he usually did. Whenever you went for a swim, he was right there with you, trying his best to make you laugh. Whenever you would carry a heavy basket, Mateä sprung to your side to help. Not to mention the beautiful seashells he started to bring you without particular reason. It seemed like any day now, Mateä was going to confess his feelings for you. Neteyam didn’t seem particularly pleased whenever he witnessed your interactions, but you only assumed it was an act. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

As you rounded the corner to your marui, you suddenly spotted Neteyam pacing around it. You hesitated to approach him as you could hear him mumbling something under his breath. It was almost like he was practicing some sort of speech. Instead, you carefully lowered yourself into the water and swam closer to your home, hiding just underneath. You were close enough to hear him and avoid being seen. You weren’t going to eavesdrop for long, you just wanted to find out what he’s doing before revealing yourself.

Neteyam suddenly stopped talking, and for a second, you thought that he had spotted you. That is until, Mateä came into your view, stopping by the entrance to your marui. You watch quietly, as the two of them exchange a brief greeting.

“Is Y/N here?” Mateä gestures to the marui, but Neteyam shakes his head, “Oh, I guess I thought she’d be here with you.”

“Why would she be with me?” Neteyam asks, with a slight annoyance in his voice.

“Aren’t you courting her?” Mateä asks, confused, “Or are those just rumors?”

“No, it’s true,” Neteyam seems to get his act back together. For a second, you were worried he would accidentally reveal something, “But Y/N is not tied to me every minute of the day, so…”

“So it is true that you’re not mated yet,” Mateä mumbles under his breath.

“Did you have something to pass to her?” Neteyam asks impatiently, crossing his arms over his chest. What is he doing? 

“Actually, I'd prefer to give it to her myself," Mateä matches his tone, clearly not liking the possessiveness Neteyam radiates. 

“If it’s another thing you want her to make for you, she’s been busy lately,” Neteyam scoffs. 

“It’s not a task, I brought her a gift.”

“Let me guess, more seashells?” Neteyam rolls his eyes. What is wrong with him?

“That’s right, I know how much she likes those,” Mateä steps forward.

Seemingly unfazed, Neteyam takes a step forward as well. You shift, thinking of interrupting them before things start to escalate. But Mateä doesn’t seem to be in the mood for an argument. Instead, he brushes past Neteyam towards your marui. 

"I'll leave them on her table. Tell her I brought them for her when she comes back," Mateä says over his shoulder. "Actually, don’t bother. She'll know they're from me anyway."

Neteyam watches in annoyance as Mateä disappears into your marui. You can almost hear him exhale loudly, trying to calm himself down. Maybe Neteyam’s just having a hard day today, you think. Perhaps something to do with his father? When Mateä comes back out, he leaves without a word.

Quietly, you swim to the back of your marui, and get out of the water. You pause before rounding the corner, and approaching Neteyam. Upon seeing you, he forces a small smile.

“Neteyam,” you greet him.

“Hey, Y/N,” he scratches the back of his head, nervous.

“Are you here for another nap?” you tease him, proceeding into your marui. 

“Actually… no,” he follows you in.

You hum, waiting for him to elaborate, as you start taking out some of the supplies you gathered from your bag. It’s then that your eye catches the beautiful green shells laid out on your table. Neteyam stands awkwardly by the wall, watching your reaction. 

“Who brought those?” you turn to ask him.

“Mateä,” Neteyam answers, “I forgot to mention. He was here earlier to see you.”

“Too bad I missed him,” you say, testing his reaction, “But it’s weird that he hasn’t asked me out yet. What do you think? You’re a guy.”

Neteyam has to physically restrain himself from cringing at your words. It takes him a second to regain his calmness, before putting on that fake voice he uses around his father.

“It is weird. He should have asked you out a long time ago.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t like me enough,” you turn your attention back to the shells.

“Nonsense. He’s just a coward,” you hear him scoff.

Surprised, you look at Neteyam again, studying his face. There is a mix of frustration and shame on his face. It's hard to tell if he's getting possessive over you, or if there's something else that's bothering him. 

"Is everything okay?" you ask softly, trying to gauge his reaction, “You seem to have a problem with Mateä.”

"Everything's fine. Just... he always seems to hang around you lately," he says, his voice trailing off.

“Well, wasn’t that kind of the point?” you gesture between the two of you, referring to the fake courting. 

“I guess,” Neteyam hums, you wait for him to continue, “I just don’t like that he acts like a coward.”

“Maybe if you stop scaring him away…” you mumble under your breath, but he’s quick to catch it.

“You don’t want someone who is so easily intimidated anyway.”

You don’t respond, confused by his behavior. Quietly, you start painting the pot you left unfinished last night. Neteyam falls silent too, watching you. He can’t understand what you see in Mateä. It just doesn't make sense to him. Neteyam also can’t understand why Mateä hasn’t made a move yet. Does he want you to choose him over Neteyam first? Or was he giving you other options, so you don’t have any regrets afterwards?

“You said you wanted something?” you interrupt his thoughts. 

“Um, right,” he clears his throat, “It’s kind of awkward.”

You put down the pot and turn to face him, suspecting that it is going to be something good. 

“What is it?”

“Well… apparently we’re not convincing enough,” he looks down at his feet, awkwardly, “People think that it’s just a rumor, that I’m courting you.”

“A rumor?” you frown, “But we’re hanging out all the time.”

Is he referring to Mateä’s words? Surely, if there was a rumor like that, Tsireya would have mentioned it to you a long time ago. She was keeping you updated. 

“No one ever sees us together outdoors, not after the celebration,” his voice gets a little higher, “I was just thinking that we could take it up by a notch?” 

“Well, what did you have in mind?” you tilt your head, curious. Neteyam’s eyes widen at your quick agreement.

“I take you on a date?”

“A date?” you smile, “Alright.”

A toothy grin spreads across Neteyam’s face at your response, causing your cheeks to flush with heat. You can't help but wonder if the two of you were getting too involved in this, and whether it was going to get in your way. But you can't deny the excitement you feel at the prospect of a date with Neteyam. Even if it’s a pretend one.

“What should I wear?”

“Anything pretty, and don’t worry about ruining it. I won’t take you into the water,” he says confidently, like he has everything planned out already.

“Okay,” you agree, reaching for one of the shell-necklaces you made for yourself. You raise your hand to show it to him, “How about this?”

“Hmm,” Neteyam pretends to think about it, as he leans against the wall.

You watch him with an amused smile stretching your lips. You rarely get to see a playful side of Neteyam but you love it when he acts like this. 

“I think I have to see it on, to decide,” he finally says his verdict, before cracking a smile.

You roll your eyes but comply anyway, walking up to him and shoving the necklace into his hands. As you turn around and move your hair out of the way, Neteyam carefully begins to tie the necklace around your neck. You can feel his hands shake slightly, as he takes his time. When he’s done, and you turn to face him, Neteyam is standing too close to you.

“Do you like it?” you meet his eyes, unable to put a distance between you.

“I do,” he breathes out.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Hey, Y/N, just dropping by for that pot. If it’s ready,” Tsireya walks into your marui, catching you off guard.

You had just put on a delicate pearly top you’ve made for yourself a while ago, and were trying to see if the ties in the back were in place. Tsireya gasps at the sight of you, bringing her hands to her mouth. 

“Did you make that?!” she beams at you, “You look beautiful, Y/N, it suits you so much!���

“You think? Not too much?” you quirk your eyebrow, pushing her for the truth. 

“Not at all,” she answers with a knowing look, “Are you going to see Mateä?” 

“No, not Mateä,” you shake your head. Tsireya looks at you confused, and you suddenly feel awkward having to explain yourself, “Neteyam wanted us to have a fake date somewhere public.”

“Oh,” that’s all she says.

It’s easy to see when something is bothering her. After all, you have been friends for a long time, you knew Tsireya like the back of your hand. 

“Just say it,” you urge her to speak.

“I just think that you shouldn’t drag this out for so long.”

“But Neteyam kind of needs me to keep playing into it,” you explain yet she doesn’t seem convinced, “Besides, Mateä has been showing more interest recently, so it works for both of us.”

“It doesn’t work for you and Mateä,” Tsireya disagrees, “You need to drop this, and Neteyam has to speak to Mateä before it’s too late.”

You don’t answer, considering her words. Tsireya is right, perhaps you should wrap this thing up. It was only supposed to be for one night, right? 

“Unless… you like him?” Tsireya looks at you, suspiciously. 

“Who?” your voice hitches.

“Seems like you’re starting to like Neteyam again,” Tsireya lets out with a sigh. She hated keeping things from you, but she also couldn’t lie. 

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Deep down, you suspect that she might be right. Neteyam was quickly starting to work his way back into your heart.

“I am just helping him out, Tsireya. There’s nothing between us,” you lie.

“I just think that this is not worth it… you and Mateä can have something really great.”

“The pot is ready, right over there,” you point to your table.

Tsireya throws an apologetic look at you, and picks up the pot, thanking you. She senses that you don’t want to talk about Neteyam anymore, and decides to give you time to think. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Neteyam?” you frown, as he keeps gawking at you, without a word.

It has been a few moments since he saw you walking out of your marui, and he still hasn't said anything. You begin to feel anxious about your appearance. Is it too revealing? Are the pearls too much? You just wanted to look like you were going on a date.

"You look like a beautiful syulang," he finally breathes out, admiring your look.

“You mean it?” you take a step closer to him.

“I do, you look very pretty,” he confirms, but takes a step back. You notice that he keeps his hands behind his back, as if he's trying to hide something.

"Thank you," you reply, "What do you have back there?"

“Uh, I brought this for you,” he says, bringing forward something wrapped in a large green leaf. 

You can't see what's inside, but you assume it's fragile, given how carefully he held it. As you take it from him and begin to unwrap, Neteyam observes your every move with anticipation.

"You really didn't have to bring me anything, Neteyam," you say, meeting his gaze for a moment, “It's not like a real date anyway.”

"I wanted to," he responds shyly.

As the wrapping comes undone, you see a handful of small, delicate yellow flowers. They're unlike anything you've ever seen before, petals shaped in a unique swirl in the ends. As you bring them closer to examine, you gawk back at Neteyam.

"Let me show you something," he smiles.

Without waiting for your permission, Neteyam takes your hand in his, opening your palm and holding it above the flowers, throwing a shade. The yellow flowers begin to glow with a soft, natural luminescence. 

“How come I’ve never seen these!” you beam, earning a satisfied grin from him, “This is very special, thank you.”

“I’m not a very good diver, so I can’t get you those shells you like,” he confesses, “But I saw these glowing at the top of the mountain when I was flying last night, so I went back for them this morning because I thought you might like them.”

“I don’t need you to bring me shells, Neteyam, these are very special,” you carefully pull him in for a hug with your free hand, trying not to squish the flowers. As Neteyam wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you closer, you close your eyes in comfort.

You were already thinking of ways to preserve the flowers, perhaps gathering some resin, and making jewelry out of them. Or something for your hair? Your marui? 

“I’ll put them into water, so that they don’t die by the time I get back,” you say, pulling back from Neteyam.

“Don’t worry, I can always bring you more,” he smiles.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Pretending with Neteyam had become effortless. As you strolled along the beach, Neteyam and you were just talking, catching up on the things that happened in the past years. Occasionally, you would make him laugh, and it warmed your heart to see him happy like that, carefree. Whenever you would notice someone watching you, Neteyam would ask you to hold hands with him to appear more serious. You agreed, of course, but Tsireya’s words were slowly weighing on you. You were letting it yourself get too invested, meanwhile Neteyam was only pretending.

As he walked you back to your marui, you could sense his growing nervousness.

“I think my neighbors are watching us,” you whisper with a smile, coming to a halt in front of the entrance.

“Are they big on gossip?” Neteyam leans in slightly, like he’s about to tell you a secret.

“Oh, very big,” you chuckle, “They are always asking my mother about you.”

“Maybe we should give them something to talk about,” he gulps down, bringing his face closer to you.

As Neteyam's eyes lock onto yours, you suddenly feel your heart race. You can't deny the tension between you, but you also can't ignore the possibility of this causing more trouble than it's worth. The thought of rumors spreading around the village about you and Neteyam kissing makes your stomach churn. Maybe this is too far. 

“What do you mean, Neteyam?” you manage to ask, captivated by his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, so quietly, like he’s going to scare you away.

“It wouldn’t be a proper date without a kiss,” you mumble. It was supposed to be a joke, a snarky comment, but you sounded so desperate, so impatient to feel him.

Neteyam only nods, his gaze fixed on your lips. He leans in, then hesitates, as if asking for one last permission. You tilt your head slightly, your heart racing in your chest. And when he finally closes the distance between you, you feel his soft, gentle lips on yours. It's so delicate and slow that it feels like a dream, intimate and special.

When you pull away, you notice a small smile resting on his lips. You can’t help but shy away from his gaze, taking a step back.

“Well, I think that was convincing enough,” you joke, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

“Thank you for tonight, Y/N,” he says, straightening up, “Have a sound sleep.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Your sleep wasn’t sound at all. You tossed and turned on your mat throughout the night, much to the annoyance of your parents. Your eyes kept being drawn to the bowl of flowers, casting a soft glow in the darkness. It reminded you of stupid Neteyam, of his stupid lips, and stupid captivating golden eyes that glowed the same way under the moonlight. You couldn't get him out of your head, and it was starting to drive you crazy.

Tsireya's warning echoed in your mind - this pretend relationship with Neteyam was going too far. You knew you had to have a serious conversation with him and move on with the final stage of the plan: turn him down. If not, you could ruin your chances of finding a real relationship. Without Neteyam.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Early in the morning, with a determined stride, you make your way to the beach, where you spot Neteyam, training with his father and a group of guys. You don’t think through what you’re going to do, when Jake suddenly notices you. 

“Good morning, Y/N,” he says, drawing everyone’s attention to you, “Anything I can help you with?”

You greet them, and gulp down, easily finding Neteyam’s curious gaze on you. Well, you have come so far, why not just get it over with?

“Can I speak to Neteyam for a moment? It won’t take long,” you turn to Jake.

Jake purses his lips, but nods at Neteyam, giving him a sign to go. He approaches you with a worried look on his face.

“Is something wrong?” 

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your training,” you apologize.

Neteyam obliges, when you lead him away from the beach, to talk in private. It’s still early, so most of the clan is asleep. You feel nervous under his patient gaze but you know it has to be done.

“I wanted to talk to you about us,” you begin. Neteyam nods, encouraging you to go on, “I know there’s still a week until the hunting festivities, and I promised to help you till then, but I don’t think I can.”

Neteyam’s eyes widen slightly, but he remains calm.

“Do you want us to stop pretending?” he asks softly.

“Yes, I think it’s for the best if we stop now. If we keep going on dates and…kissing, it might give people the wrong idea, and I don’t want that,” you answer, trying to keep your voice steady.

He looks down at his hands for a moment, thinking. You don’t interrupt him. He’s probably just trying to come up with the best way of telling his parents. He doesn’t seem saddened that he won’t be forced to spend time with you anymore. You’re the idiot who fell for her fake boyfriend.

“I understand, Y/N,” Neteyam finally says, meeting your eyes, “Thank you for helping me so far.”

“It’s fine,” you let out a breath, “Then it is decided. And Neteyam…we have to keep our distance from now on.”

Neteyam watches, as you walk away with a mixture of feelings. You're relieved, yet also disappointed that the fake relationship is over. You can't help but wonder if things could have been different between you and Neteyam, if only circumstances were different. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The following days seem to stretch with a painful slowness. You feel lost, with a constant sense of longing that follows you like a shadow. The realization that you had fallen head over heels for Neteyam and can’t be with him hits you hard. You feel stupid but you can't help thinking about him all the time, trying to carry on with your day-to-day tasks. But it seems like everything is taking more effort than it used to.

Every now and then, you catch a glimpse of Neteyam from afar, and he looks just as sad as you feel. You can't help but wonder if he's just putting on a show for the sake of the rumors, to make it believable. You wish you could just talk but avoiding him is the right thing to do for now. 

And as suspected, it doesn’t take long for rumors about you turning him down to start spreading throughout the clan. People notice that you two aren’t spending time together anymore and are avoiding each other. It is ironic, how they think that it's Neteyam going through a heartbreak, when in reality it is you. 

When Tsireya comes to congratulate you on the successful plan, she tells you that Mateä has heard the rumors and was preparing to confess to you. But you don’t want Mateä anymore. Instead of sharing Tsireya’s excitement, you can’t hold back any longer, and break down in front of her, confessing your true feelings for Neteyam. It is freeing to finally let it out, to have someone to confide in. As she comforts you, it feels like you are friends again, if only for a moment.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You got ready a long time ago. Your hair decorated with feathers and beads, face painted with white ceremonial patterns. In a few hours you would be joining the rest of the clan, to wish a farewell to the Metkayina hunters. The Tsahik would bless them with a prayer to Eywa, and after you sing your songs, the young men will leave. It was a tradition in your clan, that at the beginning of each year, the young hunters would travel by the water to an unfamiliar land. It was a test that every hunter had to pass, to learn to adapt in every situation and be able to stand for himself and for his allies. Sometimes, it would take them a few days to return back with a prey. Sometimes, it would last a full moon. It depended on Eywa’s guidance, and the hunters couldn’t return without receiving a blessing first.

Despite the value it held, the passage was still dangerous. It was painful for you to recall the instances when the groups returned with wounded or missing Na’vi. And although you were aware that it was Neteyam’s third time going on the hunt, you couldn't help but feel worried sick for him. Tonight, with the rest of your clan, you had to show your support, but your mind was contemplating not showing up at all. You didn’t want to see his face, afraid that it might make your heart break further. 

There was still time for the ceremony, as you wandered off to the water, trying to calm down your nerves. It would be disrespectful not to go, you had to show up and pray to Eywa that she keeps Neteyam safe and sound. You’re so deep in your thoughts, it takes you a second to notice Mateä sitting down next to you. You force a small smile to greet him.

“Excited for tonight?” he gestures to the extra pieces of ceremonial clothing you’re wearing on your arms and legs.

“Just wanted to be ready in time,” you’re not sure how to respond. You knew Mateä your whole life, yet it feels awkward to be with him alone. 

“I heard that you turned down the son of Toruk Makto,” Mateä emphasizes, you hum, “I will not lie to you, at first, when I heard about it, I was relieved. I thought that he doesn’t deserve you. But seeing you like this… it saddens me. I do not wish for you to be unhappy.”

“Thank you, Mateä,” you hang your head at his words. 

“Listen, Y/N,” he says softly, “We have known each other since we were babies. And while I curse myself for not spending more of my time with you back then, I do not want to regret this chance too.”

You meet his eyes again, nervously. You knew him pretty well. When Mateä was sure about something, he confronted it head on. Whether it was a rejection or an acceptance, he wished to know the truth in order to move on. 

“I always had my eye on you, Y/N,” he confesses, “What I didn’t realize that it was not just in a way one would look after their friend. It is shameful to admit but… it took me seeing you with another man to understand the true nature of my feelings. I like you, Y/N, and I wish to know if you feel the same way.”

You gulp down, tears filling up your eyes. The man you thought you could spend your life with was finally opening his heart to you, yet you didn’t want it. Your own heart belonged to somebody else. Oh Eywa, why couldn’t you enjoy what you had wished for?

“Don’t cry,” Mateä whispers, noticing the tears rolling down your cheeks, “Your heart belongs to him, doesn’t it?”

You can see the brave face he puts on, as you slowly nod your head. You feel so guilty and ashamed for admitting it to him. Mateä was really one of the only people in your life that you valued, and you were hurting him.

“I’m sorry,” you sniff, “If there was a way for me to make this better…”

“You don’t have to apologize, just don’t cry, okay?” he reaches out to wipe away your tears, and you nod again, “That is enough for me.”

You don’t feel like you even deserve his attention right now. 

“Mateä, if I could take away the pain that I’m causing, you know I would in an instant,” you mean it.

"I know, Y/N. But you can't help who you love," he says softly, "Regardless of what you choose to do, just promise me that we can still be friends, alright?"

"Of course, Mateä, you mean a lot to me," you nod, grateful.

"Good,” he stands up with a small smile, “Now, let's go. We don't want to be late."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You quietly take a seat next to Tsireya, who is anxiously watching Lo’ak from a distance. Despite knowing how important it is for Lo’ak to partake in the tradition, she can’t help but feel worried for him. You lay your hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

“Lo’ak is a skilled hunter. You know that Jake takes training very seriously,” you reassure her.

“You’re right,” she nods her head, then turns to face you, “You came with Mateä... Did you talk?”

You nod, pursing your lips together. It’s not difficult for Tsireya to realize what happened. It was only logical that you would reject Mateä because of your feelings for Neteyam.

“Oh, Y/N,” she lets out, pulling you in for a hug. You feel like it’s comforting not only you, but also her.

As the rhythm of the log drums slowly picks up, everyone falls quiet. The Tsahik makes her way to an open space, and the hunters quickly surround her in a circle, kneeling down. It’s then that you see Neteyam, wearing his headpiece and armor, with bow and arrows attached to his back. You can’t help but feel a twinge of worry for him but you push the feeling aside, afraid that it might ruin his luck. 

When the Tsahik’s voice fills the air with a praying chant, the hunters begin to sway in unison, seeking the blessing and guidance of Eywa for their upcoming journey. With the rhythm of the log drums, you find yourself lost in the moment too, closing your eyes and letting yourself be carried away. 

Eventually, when Tsahik stops, the hunters rise to their feet. As per practice, they must bid farewell to their loved ones, in case they may not return. You can’t help but feel nervous because this part of the ceremony is usually long, and Tsahik allows everyone to take their time. You know that soon enough you will watch Neteyam making his way to his family, and it hurts to know that he won’t be saying goodbye to you too. With every passing second, you feel more anxious, and all you want to do is get away from there. So, when the rest of the clan starts moving, you stand up to leave without even looking in his direction. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You rush through the trees, making your way into a small clearing, illuminated by the moonlight. You take a moment to breathe in and out with the sounds of nature, and eventually calm yourself down. When suddenly you hear a rustling of the leaves. 

Your heart skips a beat as you see Neteyam making his way to you, with a mix of concern and confusion. 

“Y/N, why did you run off?” he asks, as soon as he’s close enough for you to hear.

“Doesn’t matter,” you dismiss him, “Why are you here? You should be with your family now.”

“I already talked to my family,” Neteyam comes closer, and your breath catches in your throat, “But I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to you.”

“Neteyam,” you’re so confused at his behavior. Did he feel guilty because you looked upset? He shouldn’t be here with you right now.

“Y/N, why did you reject Mateä?” he asks suddenly, catching you off guard, “Tsireya told me.”

You don’t answer, holding his gaze. He hated rejecting girls, you can’t burden him now, before his hunt.

“Was it because of me?” he pushes.

“It does not matter, Neteyam,” you try to brush him off, “You have a hunt ahead of you, you shouldn’t be here right now. Shouldn’t be making your night about my stupid actions.”

“How can I not make this about you?” he says, irritated, “Everything is about you now, Y/N. Every moment of every night and day, doesn’t matter what I’m doing, my mind is occupied with the thoughts of you!”

“W-what?” you stutter, caught off guard.

“So for you to tell me ‘it doesn’t matter’ if you rejected Mateä for me… Of course, it matters. It matters to me, because... Because I see you,” he lets out, breathing loudly.

You stare in confusion, as Neteyam’s eyes jump all over your face, searching for a reaction. All you can do is think about how much you wanted him to say those words to you. To tell you how much he liked you, longed for you, the same way you did for him.

“I see you too, Neteyam,” you manage to whisper, reaching your hand to cup his cheek.

A loving smile breaks on his face, when Neteyam pulls you in for a kiss. He is so desperate to touch you, to know that it’s real. You’re real. Happiness overwhelms you, as you smile against his lips, your hands gently cupping his face. 

“I’m yours,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m yours forever,” you whisper back.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Did my best to upload this before my job interview tomorrow, so by the time I come back, I want you to leave your comments and tags!!! Seriously, I love that shit, it makes my heart melt. Especially when you submit questions

my 30k enemies to lovers fic (neteyam x ta'unui reader)

taglist: @ancientbeing10, @anm3mi ; @lovergirl-3000 ; @sunjayist ; @rensbby ; @okaylorrainee ; @cappsikle ; @raeeahn ; @yawneneteyam ; @oh-austin ; @midlife-crisisperson ; @teyums

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - My Brother's Best Friend Part 1/4

I wrote this one at like 4 am 😅

Summary - Reader rencounters her brother's best friend and the two of them hit it off quite well.

Enjoy!

Five years at university. Non stop studying, no coming home for Christmas, Easter or any other holiday. Despite all of this no one in your family had the courtesy of picking you up from the airport. Instead they sent for somone else, a stranger, your brothers best friend, Ruben.

"Y/N, you grew!" He exclaimed, when he finally pulled up to the sidewalk where you stood. He hadn't recognized you the first time he past you with his car. You had to shout his name the second time.

"I did and one day I'm gonna grow old and die."

He chuckled.

You threw your bags into the backseat of his car, settling down in the passenger seat beside him.

He was practically like family, Ruben. He and your brother had been inseprable friends since they were kids, making you the annoying third wheel.

"Only two bags?" He frowned.

You shrugged. "I'm only staying for the weekend."

"For the game?"

You nodded.

It was the first time Ruben and your brother had been allowed to represent their country in a international game. Although it was only a friendly your mother begged you to take a break from school to come down and watch it. Everyone else in your family was coming, your aunties, uncles and cousins. All coming to support your brother. You were a bit bitter that none of them had come to visit you at school before, although it had been five years since you moved.

"You hungry?" Ruben asked, once you got on the highway.

"Does your family still own a restaurant?"

"They do."

"Then I'm very hungry. A broke student who usually lives off cooked ramen can never say no to free food."

Ruben chuckled. "I would have paid for your meal even if it wasn't from my family's restaurant."

"Well thanks." You blushed.

Pulling up to Ruben's family restaurant, they all greeted you with open arms and painful pinches of your cheeks.

"Look at you!" Ruben's mother gasped. "How skinny you've become. Pãi, make her something to eat, fast!" She took a second look at you. "With a lot of meat in it!"

"I'm actually a vegan."

"You are?"

"You are?" Ruben repeated.

"Is that okay?"

His mother's expression mellowed. "Of course sweetie. I'll inform Ruben's father, see what he can do. We don't have alot of vegan opinions on the menu though."

"I'm sure anything will be fine Mrs Dias, thank you."

"I didn't know you went vegan?" Ruben said, the two of you sliding into your dining booth, sitting on the opposite side of each other.

"Sometimes I think it's the reason my family doesn't invite me to family gatherings anymore."

"That's horrible."

"I'm sure it's not the case." You protested, seeing the expression that came across his face. But in reality you had no idea.

"A plant based diet is good. I do it all the time." Ruben said.

"Eat vegan food?"

"Yes. Especially before a game. It's hard to run an average of 12k a game with a giant steak digesting in your stomach."

"Huh?" You muttered.

"What?"

"Defenders run 12k a game, you sure about that?"

Ruben threw his napkin at you but missed.

"I'm just saying." You chuckled. "I don't remember you as very agile to run."

"Or jump, or sprint..." His sister came by to take your drink orders. "Don't you remember Y/N, Ruben was a very chubby kid when he first started playing football. He would either play defense or goalie, those were his only options." She laughed.

You held your tounge seeing the deadly stare Ruben was giving his sister.

"Can we order our drinks now?" He grunted.

"Yes, of course." She brought out a pen and paper. "A water for you brother and what will you be having Y/N?"

"A coke?"

"A coke it is. See brother, get yourself a girl that isn't afraid of a few calories."

Ruben rolled his eyes as she left you to it.

"So... you only date girls with diet only in their bio's?" You teased.

"It makes things easier." He shrugged.

"Easier how?"

"Well, she won't complain over my strict diet, will she? Or force me to eat carbs two days a week?"

"Ohhh, poor Ruben is scared of getting little chub back on his cheeks?"

Another napkin was thrown your way, forcing you to duck this time.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" You said, throwing back his crumbled up napkin.

"Don't you think you'd be doing guys a favor by mentioning that you're vegan in your social media bio?"

"Nah, I like to see the look on their faces when I surprise them. My ex boyfriend thought my reason for going vegan was because I hadn't tried meat before, which resulted in him taking me on food truck spree. His idea of a good date."

"It would've been a great idea." Ruben objected. "I know alot of great food trucks with amazing vegan options. In fact my friend drives one. I could take you there if you're ever up to it this weekend?"

"That would fulfill your dreams, wouldn't it Ruby?" His sister said, making her stop with your drinks.

Ruben's silence was evident that he didn't enjoy the sudden interruption of your conversation.

"Do you remember that time he and your brother forced you into that shopping cart and pushed you down the hill?"

"One of my fondest memories." You said. You ended up breaking your arm that day.

"Well you should have seen the look on his face when he ran to tell our parents what happened. They were furious, but Ruben was inconsolable, which made all of us feel bad for him."

"Inconsolable how?"

You didn't rembering beeing told Ruben's side of the story before. Your brother on the other hand, told you how he had been by your side until the ambulance came, terrified of what your parents would say once he told them that he's killed you.

"Hasn't Ruben told you?" His sister frowned.

"Carolina, please " He sighed.

"He cried all night, begging our parents to take him to the hospital to go see you."

"Really?" Your eyes widened.

"Yes. He even cried at the hospital seeing your little body all patched up in the hospital bed. I thought it was cute." She said, patting Ruben's shoulders.

He ran a anxious hand through his hair, probably praying that his sister would leave.

"He gave you his favorite teddy though." She shrugged. "That must count for something."

Somewhere a costumer waved for her attention. "Coming!" She groaned and left you two to it.

The relief on Ruben's face was hilarious. "I'm sorry about that." He sighed. "Carolina can be...well Carolina."

"It's okay. " You giggled. " I had no idea that Rosie the whale was from you. I thought my parents brought her to me from the hospital gift shop."

He shook his head. "No, Eddie the whale..." He corrected. "...was all mine. I hope you took good care of him."

"Eddie?" You frowned. "My Rosie is a she."

Ruben snorted. "I don't think so. My Eddie identifies as He/Him he told me so himself."

"Is that so?"

"Ask him yourself."

"I will. As soon as I fly back home."

Somthing came across Ruben's face.

"What?"

"You brought Eddie with you to university?"

You blushed, but was quick to collect yourself. "I did."

Ruben looked to his hands, hiding his smile.

The food arrived just in time to mend the longing pain in your belly. You enjoyed it so much that Rubens family promised to make the selection of vegan food a part of the menu from now on.

"I had fun today." Ruben parked his car alongside the driveway to your parents house.

"Me too Ruben. Goodluck during the game tomorrow."

"See you after?"

"The game?" You frowned.

"Most of the team are going clubbing after, depending on the finally score of course. Either way, your brother and I are celebrating making the national team, you down?"

"I don't know?" The thought of going clubbing with your brother was not a appealing one.

"Or we could do somthing just the two of us?"

"Oh." You stuttured, a reaction to Ruben's eyes staring back at you.

You can't remember the last time they'd stayed on you for as long as they had done tonight during dinner. You thought that to Ruben you were just his best friends annoying little sister,  but after hearing the story of how he had worried about you the day you broke your arm, somthing changed within you. Your feelings for Ruben changed.

"Ruben I didn't..."

Cleary somthing had changed within him too, because as you sat with one hand gripping the passenger door, ready to jank it open and jump out, Ruben had leaned forward, catching you off guard by pressing his lips against yours.

"Ruben."

You spoke into the kiss, his breath warm against your face. He let himself enjoy it for a second, before his body stiffend and he pulled back, a terrified expression on his face.

"Don't tell your brother."

"But...I...you kissed me?"

"I know." Ruben was quick to try his lips with the back of his hand. His gaze facing the road ahead. "It was a mistake. Just don't tell your brother."

You got out of the car, confused to what just happened. You watched Ruben disappear down the street along with your stolen kiss.

"That was odd." You muttured. You had barely gotten a chance to react to his lips pressing against yours. Surely the feeling had been pleasant, but how could you know for sure when it all went down so fast?

Somthing else that came at you fast was the realization that your parents house stood empty. However a note was pinned to the inside of the door, saying: "Staying at your brothers tonight, calming his nerves ahead of tomorrow's game. Kisses, Pãi e Mamãe!"

Well who's gonna calm your nerves, you thought. Because they were all over the place for the moment.

[myloveforhergoeson]

That's All She Wrote - Chapter 30

Chapter Index

Find me on wattpad + ao3!

Chapter 30: Kiss Me (2.10) ~ 12k

Carlos wanted a girlfriend. Badly. Desperately.

Inherently, there was no issue with that, though one could call the methods in which he went about obtaining one quite orthodox. As in, confiding in Logan, who told Kendall, who told James, who told Roxy. Normally, there wasn’t a quadruple authentication factor when asking someone out, but there all four of them were, putting Kendall’s ridiculous plan in place for Carlos to impress the new girl at the Palm Woods, Kiyoko. 

A Big Time Rush scheme to get a girlfriend? Roxy figured there was about a 50/50 shot of them actually pulling this off. Considering she was already dating one of them, she should at least have a little bit of faith. 

“This is Tree Hat. I repeat, this is Tree Hat,” Kendall whispered into the walkie-talkies the four boys and Katie shared. The pool served as the ideal location for them to pull their plan off but separated them enough to warrant means of immediate long-distance communication. “Is everybody in position?”

From behind one of the big, blue cabanas, Roxy clutched onto Logan’s arm and looked back over her shoulder. Her friend was situated behind one of the many planters outside with his hat on, peering their way with a pair of binoculars, waiting for their response. While she held her thumb up for a moment to answer his question, she slowly drew it to her throat and drew a line across her skin, sticking her tongue out. 

Kendall flipped her off in response. 

“Helpless old lady and clueless granddaughter, ready!” Logan answered into his walkie-talkie, vocalizing his role in the plan.

After thoroughly raiding Mrs. Knight’s closet and Camille’s endless costume wardrobe, the five teens had found enough items to combine into the perfect helpless old lady disguise. A churchy dress, a nice knit sweater, ugly little loafers, and a graying wig sold the look they were planning on placing their assistant in. Only, the dress and shoes hadn’t fit her, one far too long and the other far too big, to sell the role they’d needed. Also, the purse they’d dug up didn’t go with the outfit at all. There's no way she’d be caught dead without a matching bag. So, her part was handed off to the next best person - Logan. And he played one hell of a helpless old lady.

Roxy had been demoted to clueless granddaughter, which she felt fit perfectly, considering she didn’t know what having a grandmother was like. From what she’d heard from Jo, the bond between a grandmother and her granddaughter was like no other; If she could pick anyone to fill that role for her, she supposed Logan was better than nothing. 

“Purse snatcher good to go,” Her boyfriend whispered into the radio, making her jolt at the sound. James was situated on the opposite side of the pool in a daunting all-black outfit, ready to grab the ugly bag off of Logan’s arm. They’d time their encounter just right in order for it to happen in front of Kiyoko,  who was suntanning in one of many lounge chairs outside, where Carlos would swoop in and save the day. Logan had brought up some love-science reason it would make her fall in love with him, but the words he’d used were too big and too fancy for the rest of them to grasp. Instead, Roxy’d managed to translate It’s just so heroic! Like something out of one of my romance novels!

The water of the pool in front of them calmly lapped as they waited for the rest of the group to confirm their positions.

“Flowers are locked and loaded,” The speaker crackled, Katie’s voice coming through now, and Roxy watched from her and Logan’s hiding spot as the young girl placed a large, colorful flower bouquet on the table closest to where Kiyoko was relaxing. 

Kendall chimed in again, “Copy that. Operation Get Carlos A Girlfriend is underway.” 

 From the side of the planter, Carlos emerged, helmetless and in a handsome sky-blue button-up he’d stolen out of James’ closet. Though he was clutching his hands together and knitting his brow, he had a fierce determination in his eyes which his assistant could spot a mile away. It was the same face he made while working out a complicated dance routine on stage.

Punch out the mugger, give Granny her purse back, then grab the flowers and give them to the pretty girl. Roxy recited Kendall’s plan in her head, trying to mentally will her thoughts into Carlos’ brain as she and Logan rounded the corner and began to walk down the edge of the pool at Kendall’s bird call of a signal. 

“Oh, I’m so old and frail!” Logan coughed out, pitching his voice about two octaves higher than normal, “Could you hold my purse, Roxanne, darling, it’s just so heavy because it’s full of money!”

The assistant rolled her eyes at his terrible acting but nodded her head and accepted the bag in order to play along. It’s not like she was any better at it than he was. “Of course, Granny, here let me-” 

At that moment, James came sprinting down the stretch of the pool deck in his mugger outfit, which sent Roxy’s heart into overdrive. With a midnight black balaclava over his face, she could hardly recognize him, and he was always just a little too invested in his roles thanks to his stint in community theater in Duluth and his acting courses with Camille last year. 

Ugh. That managed to snap the girl out of her moment of panic. 

“Give me that purse!” He cried, attempting to snatch it from Roxy. Unfortunately for him, now fueled by her unwanted thoughts of James and Camille hanging out together, she tugged it right back. 

Sure, they’d talked it over, but that didn’t exactly alleviate how much it still bothered her.

“Stop it! Help us!” Logan cried, though he did manage to poke Roxy in the side when he realized she was struggling for the purse, trying to remind her of her place in their plan. 

But still, she didn’t relent, going back and forth with her boyfriend over the purse she told herself she’d never be seen with until Carlos landed on the scene, triumphantly announcing, “Don’t worry, ladies! I’ll save you!”

When he got his hands on the purse James and Roxy were fighting over, he tugged it straight up into the air with such force, that the two of them stumbled into each other, losing their grip on the bag. 

For what it was worth, there were worse places for Roxy to be thrown than into her boyfriend’s arms; Namely, the pool one foot to her right. She nearly forgot they were putting on a show as she allowed her cheek to linger on his solid chest for a moment, the thought of Camille completely obliterated as James caught her.

“Thank you so much!” Granny Logan beamed, right before Carlos sent a right hook directly into his cheek. 

The girl gasped, one hand flying over her mouth as her brows shot to her hairline. Carlos had mixed up the parts James and Logan were playing, making a fatal mistake. When she worked up the courage to peek over at Kiyoko, the new girl was sat up in her chair, jaw practically on the floor at the sight of a stranger taking out a defenseless old woman. 

But, Carlos didn’t recognize his mistake at all, diving for the gorgeous bouquet Katie had placed on the table beside Kiyoko’s chair. 

Uh, oh.

Without thinking, he passed the flowers off to Robber James, who nearly dropped them because he was too busy trying to steady his girlfriend and then proudly presented the snatched purse to Kiyoko with a blindingly white smile. A few seconds of silence washed over the pool area, considering the band, their assistant, and Katie had caused quite a stir, before Kiyoko let out a bloodcurdling scream and dashed off toward the hotel lobby. 

“Yeah, we probably should’ve rehearsed more…” Kendall trailed off into the walkie-talkie, voice ringing unpleasantly in everyone's ears while Carlos tried far too late to correct his mistake. 

Eagerly, he wrestled the bouquet out of James’ hands and held them out to Logan, now sporting quite the shiner on his jaw, breathing out an unimpressed, “Really?” 

The trek back up to apartment 2-J with a now depressed Carlos was less than pleasant considering all the moaning and groaning leaving the poor boy’s mouth, but on the way up James had taken off his mask and wrapped an arm around his girlfriend’s waist. Cheesily, he presented her with the flowers they’d bought for their little scheme and she happily accepted, pressing a kiss to his cheek and imagining how cute they’d look on her writing desk. 

But, that happiness managed to dissolve the minute Carlos flopped onto the large, orange sectional in the living room, declaring, “I’m never gonna get a girlfriend!” 

While Logan retreated to his room to change, Carlos slammed a fist down onto the cushion, accidentally hitting the TV remote and flipping it on. 

“And do you have a girlfriend?” The news anchor on the screen asked, with what could only be the most inopportune timing. 

“No!” The boy shouted, alarming his friends with his sheer intensity.

James kept his hold on Roxy tight though, immediately perking up to watch the program, while she rearranged a few of the bright flowers in the bouquet. Whoever had picked them up at the store across the street had done a phenomenal job, the bright pastel colors complimented each other very well, and the delicious scent wafting off of them was almost heavenly. 

“Then take her to see the movie Kiss and Tell, which opens tonight!”

“They made Kiss and Tell into a movie?!” Roxy whirled her head around to face the television, now also very invested in what critic Leonard Siskel had to say during his movie corner segment of the news. “That’s one of my favorite books!”

Now, it wasn’t lost on her how James leaned in to hear the program better. 

“It’s the story of a lawyer too busy for love and a down-and-out chef with a recipe for romance. It’s a film so romantic that if you’re not smooching in the aisles, you’re dead… or alone!” 

Siskel’s words sent Carlos into another spiral, spinning around so he was face down on the couch to let out a pained cry. 

Always quick to launch into action at the sight of someone in need, Kendall rushed over to take the remote from his hopeless friend and turn the device off. “If you sit here feeling sorry for yourself, you’re never gonna find a girlfriend!” 

“But I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!” Carlos shot back. “I’m lovable.” 

Taking one of the brightest yellow tulips from the bundle she held, Roxy walked over and handed it to him, rubbing his shoulders gently from behind the couch. “While true, is not the only important thing to look for in a partner.” 

From the breakfast bar, James added, “You’re so right, babe!”

“Which is why,” Kendall rolled his eyes, but bounced off his assistant’s statement, “You have to keep looking! A girlfriend’s not just gonna walk in the door and say, ‘Hey, let’s go on a date tonight!’”

The front door opened as he finished his sentence and Jo gracefully entered the apartment with a gigantic smile on her face and two pieces of paper in hand. “Hey! Let’s go on a date tonight!”

Carlos gawked at her, weakly pointing a finger her way while his jaw went slack. Without interruptions, Kendall’s inspirational speeches usually served her and the band well, but today seemed to be full of horrible timings after horrible timings.  “Okay, bad example!” His friend cut in before Carlos managed to complain again, but the helmet wearer did let out an exasperating scream as Roxy kept rubbing his shoulders. He sure was tense under James’ soft button-up. 

“I printed out two tickets for Kiss and Tell.” The actress shared, striding over to her boyfriend to show him the tickets she’d purchased online. “Pop Tiger gave it five smooches on their make-out meter…”

“Out of ten smooches!” his assistant lied to try and make Carlos feel better. Though, while she thought back to the contents of the book she’d read a few months ago, she felt the back of her neck begin to heat. Is it possible to earn six smooches?

And honestly, she was a bit jealous of Jo and Kendall. They’d blown their relationship wide open to the public eye after an unfortunate run-in with Jett Stetson, a llama, a jar of peanut butter, and a stupid scheme of the teen actor’s to make it appear to the general population as though he and Jo were together. With some quick thinking on her friends’ part, they had been able to thwart Jett’s plan and earn themselves a spot on all the major magazine covers as one of the ”hottest young couples in Hollywood.” 

Jo Taylor and Kendall Knight - A popular actress and a popular singer. Of course, it made sense for them to be together.

But a popular singer and an unknown songwriter… It probably wasn’t a good idea for James and Roxy to be seen making out at a movie like Kiss and Tell in the middle of Los Angeles. Though she loved being with him, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to be talked about in this week’s celebrity news cycle just yet. 

I’ll have to ask James if we can hit a midnight showing in the next town over or something…

“Roxy?” 

Someone calling her name pulled the writer out of her head, and when she turned around from where she stood behind the couch, Katie was standing in the middle of the hallway trying to get the writer’s attention. 

Sending a wave the young girl’s way, Roxy cocked her head to the side, “What’s up?”

Katie shot a glance at the room in front of her, slowly taking note of all the people gathered in their living room. Usually, that wasn’t an issue - the Crib was always hustling and bustling with her big brother, roommates, and their large collection of friends - but something about it seemed to annoy her today. “I heard some scratching in the wall connecting our apartments just now. Have you heard anything lately?”

Just the thought of something crawling around in her walls was enough to send Roxy flying past Katie and into 2-H as quickly as possible. Back in Duluth, she and her father had their fair share of disgusting vermin making home in their insulation over the years. The two of them loved living right on the edge of the forest, but that did cause a whole host of issues with the local wildlife. 

As disgusting as she thought it was, she needed to confirm what Katie had said, tag the approximate location in the walls, and arrange for Buddha Bob to handle it as soon as possible or she wouldn’t be getting a good night's sleep for quite a while. By the time the girl reached her kitchen, mild jitters were setting in as she reached a shaking hand into her mini backpack to grab her phone and call her dad for advice. 

When she pressed her ear to the wall, clutching her phone while trying to isolate any squeaking, clawing, or gnawing, all she caught was the sound of the door connecting her apartment to the boys’ slamming shut. Ouch.

“So… um,” Apparently, it had been Katie, not her boyfriend like she assumed, who followed her into the apartment, slowly dragging her feet as she moved into the kitchen where her friend had her ear practically slammed into the wall. “There’s-”

“Shh!” Roxy hushed her, dragging a finger to her lips, “We need to find the-”

“There’s no critter. I lied,” The girl said, joining the songwriter in the small space. Her tone of voice shifted, something meek and timid, which was completely unlike the conniving, cunning person she was. Both she and Kendall usually flew on the same type of optimism and confidence, proving they could do anything they set their minds to, but the slump of her shoulders and anxious pulling of her hair told the writer Katie was feeling far different than usual.

That scared Roxy more than anything. 

Slowly, she pulled her ear away from the wall as Katie continued. 

“I know you don’t like gross things and I wanted to talk to you alone. So… Sorry.” 

Katie’s gaze locked onto the bright blue card hung up on Roxy’s fridge; James had tacked Mag’s invitation to Brand New Day’s album release party there after pulling it out of her garbage can. 

“That’s twice you’ve done this to me now - You know you can just tell me you want to talk upfront, right?” Roxy asked, slowly leaning onto the wall beside her and realizing that probably wasn’t the first thing she should have said to Katie’s confession. “Just keep that in mind for next time… Is something going on?” 

“Yes… and no. Nothing bad I swear!” Katie held her hands up in the air as if she were proclaiming her innocence. “It’s just embarrassing… Had to work my way up to it… And I didn’t want the guys to worry if I pulled you aside. You know how they are.”

Finally, a small huff of a laugh escaped the writer’s lips. “You’re pretty lucky to have four caring older brothers.” 

At Roxy’s words, Katie’s eyes widened before she quickly crossed her arms and looked down at the floor. “Whatever. That doesn’t matter when you’re looking for some girl-talk… or whatever.” 

“Well, good for you I’m a girl who loves to talk,” Roxy smiled. Taking a step forward toward the kitchen table, she pulled out one of the chairs, plopped down with her chin in her hand, and motioned to the seat across the way. 

Though seemingly reluctant, Katie took a hesitant breath before joining her friend at the table. The small, red watch encircling her wrist ticked and ticked, filling the silent apartment. “Remember what we talked about in Minnesota?”

How could I ever forget? Roxy thought, but nodded all the same. “After your date with Ray? Of course, I do.”

Now knowing this conversation was about dating and relationships, and not anything more serious, the writer felt her shoulders fall. In turn, the girl in front of her looked a bit more relieved. 

“Well… There’s this new guy who just moved in, Kyle, and I’ve seen him at the pool a few times with his comic books and Nintendo DS. Every time I’ve tried to go up and talk to him my palms get really sweaty and my heart races and I end up just running back up to the apartment.” 

At the moment, Roxy was beginning to feel the same of the same symptoms her young friend had been describing - Excited for her and a potential foray into the world of romance. She had to bite the inside of her cheek not to bombard her with a million questions and Katie continued. 

“He’s usually down there at this time and I told myself I’d talk to him today, but I need a confidence boost. Can I borrow some of your makeup?” 

Roxy blinked. “What?” 

Katie Knight, the most confident person Roxy knew, was looking for assurance through cosmetics? That certainly came straight out of left field. 

“Just some of the stuff you put on your cheeks and eyes or maybe even your lips? James is always telling you how pretty you look in all that.”

He better think I’m pretty without it…

After sharing such vulnerable feelings and communicating how hard it was to work her way up to that question, the last thing Roxy wanted to do was make Katie feel uncomfortable or unashamed. She was almost thirteen years old; That was around the time Roxy had started to grow interested in makeup as well, but her father didn’t allow it until she was in high school. Could Mrs. Knight have similar feelings? 

“Katie, I don’t mind sharing at all!” Roxy shared, earnestly, wondering if this overwhelming urge to say yes to anything the girl asked was what it was like to have siblings. “But in exchange is it alright if I ask you something?” 

The young Knight nodded, still playing with the watch around her wrist. 

“Are you just curious about makeup because you think it’s cool or because you think the new guy will like you better if you wear it?” 

Taking her bottom lip between her teeth, Katie considered the question for a few moments. “Dunno… Maybe a little bit of both? Mom says I don’t need any and I think that made me want to try some out more than anything. I don’t like being told what I can and can’t do.” Her chair slowly creaked as she squirmed around before standing up. “Just forget it, it was a stupid question anyway.”

“No, no!” The writer shot up from her seat, “Not at all, Katie. You can always come and ask me anything. I do want to be honest with you, though; If the new guy only likes you because you’re wearing makeup he is so not worth your time... How about we find a balance? A little blush and some lip gloss and you bring your own comics and DS - Would that make you feel more confident?” 

While she did mean every one of her words, Roxy worried that her offer to compromise might make it sound like she agreed with Mrs. Knight on the makeup front… Even if she truly did, there was nothing wrong with a little bit of experimentation here and there. 

“It would,” Katie agreed, finally looking at her friend instead of her bright blue Converse. “But maybe you can take me to the drug store sometime this week and I can get my own? And we don’t tell my mom?” 

“Only if you tell me everything about this mystery boy! Now, let’s go see what we can dig up in my makeup organizer… Are you more of a neutral-tone girl or a sparkles girl?” 

“No idea… But I’m happy to find out together.” 

***

J: Katie told you she had a crush on a boy and all you did was let her borrow some makeup?

The text from James set the alarm tone on Roxy’s phone off, interrupting her as she scribbled out what she could remember of the lyric set she had come up with not long after her friend had left her apartment. With cheeks just a little rosier and lips just a little shiner, the pair had come to the conclusion that Katie was ready to meet the new boy, but she wanted to do it on her own terms. 

If James was texting her about it, Roxy could only assume the last part of their plan had backfired. 

R: Mind your own business!

J: It is my business! Why aren’t you down here helping her talk to him?

R: Because she’s very capable of doing that on her own

J: All she was doing was sitting around watching him through a pair of binoculars. She would have never actually talked to him without my help!

Oh, God. Roxy thought, snapping the book on the comforter below her shut. I need to get him out of there.

Immediately, she switched out of their text chat and called him, feeling her heart rate spike about twice as fast as it should have been. Katie was already having a hard enough time working out her own pre-teen feelings; She certainly didn’t need a Flirting 101 class from James Diamond. 

He picked up on the first ring, “Babe?”

“I just found this new cherry lip gloss-”

“Say less. Be at 2-H in a minute.” 

Before she hung up the phone, thrilled her plan of distraction worked, Roxy could hear the pounding of his footsteps on the pool deck and someone hissing, “What?!” and heavily stuttering whatever else they were trying to say just as the line went dead.

In the minute - give or take - she’d give him to come knocking on her door, she quickly swiped on some of the product she’d found, flicked on her tape player, and reopened her songbook to see if she could recover any of what she was planning to put down. 

On the page in front of her, the red ink practically jumped off the paper, swirling the words around as she tried to make sense of what she’d written. Though she’d been calling the work “Got Something” in her head, it wasn’t as catchy as she’d liked, and aside from a few short lyric ideas, a good deal of heart doodles around them, and a crappy drawing of Jupiter in the corner, her work in progress was just that - in progress. 

A few seconds and a silly I’ve got a big time crush on you! line scribbled out later, James did, in fact, bust down the door to her apartment.

“Songbird?” He called from the entryway, sounding majorly out of breath despite his profound athleticism as his voice cracked on the last syllable of her name.

It was difficult for her to contain the giggle escaping her lips while she felt the back of her neck heat, tossed her songbook over to her desk, and shimmied to the edge of her bed. “In here!” 

 The next few seconds flew by like a flash - James practically sprinting to her room and catching himself on her doorframe, goofily smiling when he found his girlfriend inside. “Hey, beautiful.” 

Now, Roxy couldn’t stop herself from laughing, as cheesy as it was his words always got to her, making her so bashful it bubbled up and boiled over the surface. “Hey, yourself.” 

Blue, blue t-shirt fit snugly across his chest as he leaned forward on the frame, “Cherry…  You’re sure it’s cherry?”

“Yes!” 

In an instant, he was in front of her, hands on her cheeks, gently laying her back on the mattress, as his lips found hers. The taste was just as sweet as they’d hoped. 

For a plan to get him out of spending time with Katie while she figured out her Kyle situation, this was one of the more brilliant schemes Roxy had come up with, she thought, while her hands sunk into James’ soft hair, indulging in the moment they shared. 

Despite his strength and large frame, James was always careful with her, making sure even in the most heated of make-out sessions he never made Roxy caged or uncomfortable. This time was no different, even as one of his hands left her face to brace himself on the black blanket covering her bedspread.

When he’d just about kissed her breathless, James reluctantly pulled away, needing more than a second to refill his lungs. Long hair swept over his eyes while his chest rose and fell, accentuating the tight shirt he’d picked out that morning, and Roxy’s grip on his roots tightened when his tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his lips. “You lied to me.”

A jolt shot through Roxy’s heart, “What?” 

“It’s cherry berry, not just cherry.” 

“James!” She practically screamed, ignoring the laughter rolling out of him as she shoved him onto the bed beside her, “Who cares?!”

As his back hit the mattress, she bounced a bit. Bed springs groaning as he rolled onto his side to face her, he shot a wicked grin. “That’s very important information! A guy should know what he’s getting into, you know?” 

“I think you’ll survive,” Teased Roxy, turning to face him as well, resting her cheek on her hand. When they were this close, she could admire the small flecks of green popping out in his hazel eyes and the beautiful curve of his lips. “But for future reference… What’s your preference?”

James scrunched up a cheek in thought, “Hm… I don’t know. Let me check again.” 

Leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to Roxy’s lips, he pulled back before rubbing his own together and pretending he was deep in thought. “Didn’t get enough that time. Again.” The process repeated a few more times before Roxy was pretty sure no gloss was left and he asked her what else she was storing in her makeup organizer. 

Hesitantly, the girl pulled herself away from her boyfriend, already missing the hint of the ‘Cuda spice lime cologne tingling her nose as she made her way to her dresser to find just what he was asking for. The bright red organizer Katie had given her for Christmas had certainly been put to good use, and she pulled open the small drawer on the side she’d designated for her lipsticks and glosses, rattling off what she could find, “Strawberry, Watermelon, Vanilla… Ooh! Cotton candy!”

“That one!” James called from behind her, head propped up on his hand as he watched her, still lying on his side. She caught his sparkling gaze in the vanity mirror, relishing in the softness in his eyes. 

Just as she swiped some of the gloss over her bottom lip, she heard him audibly swallow. “Wanna go to that movie tonight?” 

Roxy paused, jaw half open as she glanced back at him over her shoulder. And she did, desperately, want to go to Kiss and Tell with him, but going out on the town together and being spotted could lead to any type of speculation; Going to the hottest make-out movie of the summer only led to one conclusion.

It's not like they never went out together… But when they did, at least after what happened in Santa Monia, it was usually just hitting a drive-through and then coming back to 2-H to hang out. The last time they’d been alone in public together was back in Minnesota where the skillful eye of the paparazzi would never look to find anyone as quickly up and coming as a member of Big Time Rush.

“Like… in the next town over or something?” Roxy questioned, not sure if James had actually thought the invitation out before extending it to her. While she did adore him, her boyfriend certainly wasn’t known for thinking all of his plans through.

Had she still been focused on fiddling with the small plastic tube in her hands, she might have missed the look of hurt that flashed across her boyfriend’s face.

Shit.

“No,” He said, sitting up, brows furrowed. “I caught Jo on the way out of 2-J and she said there were still seats next to where she, Kendall, Carlos, and his mystery date were sitting. You sounded interested earlier… Just thought it could be fun.”

“It does sound fun!” The assistant jumped in a bit too quickly, thoughts muddling around her head too fast now that she was worried about hurting his feelings. “But don’t you think… I don’t know… Three members of Big Time Rush in the same place and people might start taking pictures or something?” 

“I think I’d be more worried if someone spotted us in the back row of a dark, crowded theater when they’re supposed to be making out with someone else,” James snickered, though not as lighthearted as usual. “Like… total loser alert…”

She’d hurt him and he was trying to play it off, make her more comfortable about potentially going out together with their friends. 

Anxiously, she placed the gloss back in the organizer before walking back over to the edge of her bed. Mattress creaking as she sat down next to James, she reached a hand out toward his cheek, guiding his gaze to hers. 

Even in their own little bubble, she thought dating James was no small feat. Had they been somewhat “normal” teenagers back in Minnesota, navigating the same high school hallways, she doubted he’d give her a second glance. He was the kind of guy she’d hopelessly crush on, Mag and Dani making fun of her as much as they could, who had no idea she’d exist… He was miles out of her league. 

If those were the thoughts she’d tucked deep down, spilled out on the pages of her journal for nobody else to ever see, how could she handle it if anyone else thought the same? 

“You four are getting so famous… You’re not worried about people thinking our relationship is-” Unable to even say the unpleasant words swirling around in her head, Roxy took a breath, a familiar, sharp sting of sadness tingling the back of her nose and eyes. Gently, she swiped her thumb over his cheek. “They don’t know me the way they know you. What if they think I’m just a groupie or-”

“Or what if they like you for the same reasons I do?” James questioned back, hand reaching up to clutch hers. “Because you’re so incredibly talented and you work harder than anyone else in this town and just being in the same room as you makes my days brighter? Or because you’re a total knockout and anyone would be lucky to have even a fraction of your time?”

His exaggerated words flooded her ears, making the anxiety rising in her chest begin to wash away, a laugh bubbling up her throat. It must have made her smile too, at this point so overwhelmed she couldn’t even tell, because James was already mirroring a grin by the time her other hand reached his face and she pulled him into another round of kisses.

Unlike their earlier, heated exchange, these were slow, tender. The light touch of his hand squeezing hers communicating his concern through his fingertips. The arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her into his lap all but screaming his affection. So easy, the way they slid together, as her legs fell to opposite sides of his torso, his large hands skirting the tops of her thighs.

It took a lot of willpower for Roxy to pull away from all that, but somehow she managed, gently resting her forehead against his as her hands wrapped around the back of his neck. 

“You always know how to make me feel better, James,” She murmured into his ear before pressing a line of kisses down his sharp jaw. 

The smile gracing his lips from earlier only grew wider. “I read a lot of best tips and relationship advice articles in Pop Tiger and there’s a reason we tick fifteen boxes on the ‘Twenty Signs That Your S.O. Is Your Soulmate’ quiz.”

Roxy’s chest fluttered with an intensity so great she had to hold him even tighter out of fear she’d start floating away. 

“You read the new edition without me?” was the only stupid thing her brain could manage to come up with in response to such a bold declaration. 

Gaze flitting to the side, James sheepishly shrugged, “Couldn’t help myself. Selena Gomez was on the cover… And Miley Cyrus had this great column-” 

The boy she was holding shuttered beneath her, causing her to place her hands on his shoulders and lean back, brow knitting in confusion.

“You’re trying to distract me!” He accused, poking her in the side. “Kiss and Tell tonight - Yes or no?”

Roxy hoped another kiss would suffice in place of verbal confirmation.

***

  Even after James had left her apartment to purchase the movie tickets, his words were still echoing in his girlfriend’s ears. 

Soulmate.

She was still getting giddy at the term boyfriend. 

Though the more Roxy thought about the s-word and James’ use of it, the more it tugged at her heart. She wouldn’t have even thought to call them that, yet he’d so unabashedly brought it up in the middle of a conversation like it was no big deal. If he was thinking something so definite, so absolute about their relationship, was there something she was missing out on by not thinking the same?

The prospect of that worried her greatly. 

Compared to his multiple relationships before theirs, James was the more experienced of the two, so maybe he was more willing to come to that conclusion because he knew what it felt like to not be someone’s soulmate? In place of the people James had grown emotionally close to, all Roxy had to show for experience was a destroyed friendship and a hit break-up song that almost made the Billboard Hot 100. 

Now, as she grabbed her journal off her desk, she had to figure out if she was more ashamed of her inexperience or her fear of calling him anything more serious than her boyfriend. 

Falling for him had been the easy part, even with the months of waiting for him to ask her out. Once she knew James felt the same way about her, easing into their relationship had been as automatic as breathing. Roxy wore the smile lines, saved the text receipts, and had the romantic songs written in her journal to prove it.

But soulmates… That was something else entirely, something James had said with such conviction that in the moment, Roxy believed him. 

As she stared at the pages of her songbook, anxiously tapping her pen on the paper and her foot on the floor, she turned the word over and over again in her head. One of the biggest foundations of their relationship had been trust, especially after her messy episode with Dak months before, and James hadn’t ever broken that since the day they’d become official. 

She’d trusted him then, so why shouldn’t she trust him now? 

That revelation was just what she was looking for, taking into account her wide range of feelings on the subject, smiling toward the blank sheet as she uncapped her pen and scribbled out a verse. 

Maybe this could be the line,

That starts the whole story,

Maybe you could be the one,

The one who’s meant for me,

I know that I should wait,

But what if you’re my soulmate?

Then you say

Slow down

‘Cause we can

Buzz buzz

“Damnit!” Roxy cursed at the interruption to the posters on her bedroom walls. 

Beside her songbook, the screen of her phone lit up with a text message from Camille to their group chat with Jo.

C: what do you think about steve from class?

As per usual Jo’s reply was immediate.

J: Dunno. Never really talked to him

R: He’s a senior right? 

R: We were paired up for last week's English project. Seems nice.

R: Very into musical theater.

While they’d completed their paper he’d played the Wicked soundtrack about forty times over. Roxy had “Defying Gravity” stuck in her head for days. 

C: going to kiss and tell with him tonight

C: will i see you two there?

J: Kendall, Carlos, Megan, and I will be there

R: Megan?

J: Co-worker of mine Carlos seems into… If he doesn’t pick Kendall’s date over mine…

C: aren’t YOU kendall’s date?

J: God. Don’t remind me.

R: James and I will be there too!

C: i guess all of us are going then lol. logan and the new girl peggy too

R: Yay! Quadruple date!

R: Can’t wait to see you all (and meet peggy…?) 

C: if she isn’t too busy hoovering logan’s face

J: well… hopefully you and steve will be doing the same? 

J: silver linings and all

Making a mental note to speak with Jo about her public relationship status and how she and Kendall handled it, Roxy closed her book with a sigh. She had a strange relationship with public perception, but figured she should do her best - for now at least - to take a page out of her friend's book and not pay attention to the gossip columns or articles written about them. 

It was one thing if people didn’t like her music, that was all about personal taste. If you don’t like boybands, you don’t like their songs, and that was perfectly fine with the writer. But, if people didn’t like her simply because she was seeing someone famous… Well, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. For now, at least, she made sure her ScuttleButter account was private while she walked into her kitchen for a light snack before James picked her up for their date. 

Just as she opened her pantry to root around for something small, a soft knock rapped at her door. Passing her fridge and spotting Mag’s blue enveloped invitation tacked on there made her slightly gag, praying it wasn’t him awaiting her on the other side of the wood for the second time this week. 

Sucking in a breath, Roxy slowly opened the door to a young boy she’d never seen before. About half a head shorter than her, his messy dusty brown hair and chocolate brown eyes stood out nicely against the long-sleeved blue and white striped button-up he wore. A mischievous grin brandished his cheeks, showing off two adorable dimples as he looked up at her and politely asked, “Hey, is… Katie here?” 

The smell of Axe Body Spray hung pungently in the air. 

“No… She isn’t, sorry,” Roxy shook her head, hoping that this was the boy Katie had mentioned earlier and not another stranger she’d never met moving into the Palm Woods. With a nod of her head, she jerked her thumb to the right. “She’s next door in 2-J. I was just on my way over there if you wanna join me.”

That was fully a lie, but she figured Katie wouldn’t mind if she was just a bit nosy and interrupted whatever was about to go down in her apartment.

The boy let out a relieved sigh, “Sounds great! I was a bit worried when you opened the door, Katie hadn’t mentioned a sister… I must have misremembered the letter. I’m kinda nervous.”

Joining him out in the hallway, Roxy locked her door and led the boy in the right direction. “Nervous?” 

“Yeah! She and I are going to see that new movie everyone’s been talking about. What’s it called again…?”

Aw! Roxy couldn’t stop herself from thinking while trying to recall an age-appropriate movie that had just hit the theaters. “Um, The Unicorn Princess?”

“No, no,” Kyle shook his head as he stood before the door to 2-J, repeating the same soft knock he had at her apartment. “Kiss and Tell, I think?” 

Stopping right behind him, the writer’s brows shot to her forehead, the only thought running through her mind being, I wonder if the guys know…

She got her answer a moment later when her boyfriend answered the door, hair brushed to the side of his face, with a sharp-looking white button-up, tie, and red sweater greatly contrasting from the t-shirt and jeans he’d been wearing when they hung out earlier. 

Even with his back to her, she could feel worry radiating off Kyle’s little body the minute he laid eyes on James. 

“Kyle, my boy! Come on in,” The singer greeted, deepening his voice an octave and puffing out his chest as he stuck one hand in his pocket. “Have a seat!”

Shooting a wink Roxy’s way, he stepped to the side and allowed the boy into the apartment. 

“Thanks, James,” Kyle said, insinuating a level of familiarity that the writer could only assume came from the hangout she’d pulled her boyfriend away from earlier in the day. Maybe she’d been wrong to do that…

As the two made their way to the living room, Roxy in tow, she snorted as James slung an arm around Kyle’s shoulder and aggressively pulled him into his side, “Ah, please, call me Mr. Diamond.”

Jesus.

Peeking at the open space in front of them, she noticed that in addition to the orange sectional couch, a brown lounger draped in a red, white, and black plaid blanket had also been brought into the space, which she didn’t recognize from any of the boy’s rooms. It was directly facing one of the sections of the couch, which James all but threw Kyle down onto before taking a seat in the new chair. 

In his wake, Roxy bent down and reached out her hand, which Kyle nervously took. “I’m Roxy - Katie’s friend and Mr. Diamond’s girlfriend. Nice to meet you.” 

Sheepish grin returning, Kyle wrung his hands together as she sat down on one of the arms of the recliner. 

“Katie is very special,” James began out of nowhere, one of his hands reaching behind his girlfriend’s back as he pulled a neon blue and orange Nerf gun from the floor behind her and began to inspect it. “She’s like a sister to me. So tell me…”

Roxy cleared her throat in warning, nudging James with her elbow as she shot Kyle the warmest smile she could muster. 

That didn’t work at all; James grabbed a paper towel and began to wipe down his weapon, pointing it right at Kyle’s chest in the process. “What are your intentions?”

“Um…” His actions didn’t sit well with Kyle, who began to shift out of the gun’s range, but James kept his aim trained to his heart wherever he moved. “To take her to a movie?”

It came out more like a question than a confident statement, which was understandable considering he had a weapon pointed directly at him. 

“Oh! How fun!” Roxy tried to cut in, nudging her boyfriend once again to try and knock the barrel out of Kyle’s way. “They’re going to a movie, just like we are, babe.”

“Not to Kiss and Tell you’re not!” He bit, completely ignoring his girlfriend’s words. Tone now clearly sinister, Kyle’s eyes widened in fear as he followed the gun’s aim once more, holding up his hands in innocence. 

It was at this moment, Katie emerged from her bedroom, spotting her friends in the entertainment area, greeting, “Hey, Kyle!” 

Though she was dressed in her typical casual attire, she’d picked out her favorite sage green shirt to wear, just like she told Roxy she was planning to earlier. Once she got closer, and noticed the large weapon in James’ hands, her cheery tone immediately switched to chilling, asking, “What are you doing?” 

Like Kyle, Roxy raised her palms, silently pleading with the girl to not equate her presence as an alliance with James' schemes. 

“Just having a little… Man-to-man-to-woman with Kyle here, huh?” 

As the young boy nodded, too stunned to do much more than that, Roxy did the opposite. After all of the work she’d done with Katie earlier to help her be more comfortable discussing her feelings, she didn’t want this moment to ruin even a fraction of that.

With a sigh, Katie looked between the three, before parading over and grabbing James by the ear. Tearing him out of his seat as he yowled in pain, she took him to the kitchen where the two of them appeared to be having a little chat. 

That left Kyle and Roxy sitting alone in the living room, awkwardly, while the other two conversed. 

“So… How are you liking the Palm Woods?” Roxy asked the boy, and he finally let out some of the tension his body had been holding, shoulders visibly relaxing.

His hands unwound. “My sister Peggy and I just moved in so we’re still getting used to everything, but it’s pretty nice. Very different from Missouri though.”

“You guys are from the Midwest too? We all moved here last year from Minnesota.”

“Oh, cool,” Kyle replied, but his flat tone suggested he really didn’t think it was. “My sister cut a modeling contract with one of the big agencies here so our parents dragged me out here too, but I guess it could be worse.”

Glancing over to Katie and James, the two appeared to be locked in quite a heated battle. “Then I’m sure you and Katie will have lots to talk about. Her brother, James, and two of our other friends are in a band! Maybe she can give you some tips for dealing with a famous sibling…”

Before he had the chance to respond, Katie called, “Kyle, let’s go!” from the kitchen, before making her way toward the door, not even glancing back to see if he was following her. Roxy didn’t blame him for scurrying out of 2-J as fast as humanly possible. 

What she didn’t expect was for James, newly changed into a sleek, tight, black Henley, to be hot on their heels, pulling Roxy out of 2-J and down into the lobby of the Palm Woods. 

As she caught a glimpse of Kyle and Katie headed out the front doors with the woman she assumed was Kyle’s mother, the writer dug her heels into the ground, pulling back on James’ hand clasped in hers. “Woah! James, give them some space! We’ll see them at the theater and you can… do whatever this is,” she waved her hand in his general vicinity, “later.” 

If he wanted to supervise the young ones on their date, that was fine with her, but he needed to agree to her terms. Also, he needed to tell her that outright, instead of nervously glancing at the front door every two seconds while she practically physically held him back from following. 

“How do you feel about Funburger? I know you love a good burger!” He asked, skipping over her words once again as Kyle and Katie faded from view. 

To his credit, Roxy did love a good burger. And though that was likely where Kyle was taking Katie tonight, she agreed anyway, because only one establishment in the greater Los Angeles area could claim to sell the “Funnest burgers in town.” 

“Well… It’s no Bun In A Million but I suppose it will suffice,” She smiled, squeezing his hand in hopes it would calm him down a smidge, but the moment she finished her sentence, he was dragging her out to the Pontiac. 

***

It had taken nearly everything the assistant had in her to convince her boyfriend they needed to sit across the restaurant from Kyle and Katie, instead of right next to them as he had originally planned. 

Roxy and James sat on opposite sides of the small, red leather booth of the 50s-themed diner, listening to the old-timey music pour through the wall box sitting at the edge of the table. Roxy couldn’t remember ever going to a cuter-themed restaurant while she swirled her finger over the speckled white table in front of her, waiting for James to stop staring at Kyle and Katie over his shoulder so they could talk about something. 

Does he intentionally flex his jawline when he concentrates like that?

She figured she could share progress about her new song, or talk a little bit more about her anxiety about potentially being spotted with him out in public, but the singer was more focused on his mission than anything. From the hotel lobby, Roxy had known what she was getting into and generally didn’t mind. If James was more happy keeping an eye on Katie to make sure she was safe, that was important to her too. 

The preteens appeared to be having a good time; Both wore awkward yet sincere smiles, intensely discussing what Roxy assumed was either the Castle Bashers video game or their favorite comic book series. Maybe something new they’d discovered they both enjoyed on the car ride over. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Katie glance over to where the two of them sat, James fully flinching as if he wasn’t expecting to be caught and wagged her finger from side to side. A clear warning, screaming, “No!”

In the aisle, a white-clad waiter cleared their throat and set down the large milkshake Roxy had ordered, because what trip to a diner was complete without one? Milk chocolate, whipped cream, and rainbow sprinkles were calling her name, and she placed two bright red straws inside; One facing her way and one facing James. 

“Babe,” She tried, but he was still looking over his shoulder. Though his protectiveness did appeal to her greatly, Roxy was having trouble staying calm while he pretty much flat-out ignored her. Lowering her tone, she accidentally barked out, “James,” a lot meaner than she’d meant to. 

Like he was snapping out of a trance, James shook his head and finally looked her way, seeing the drink she pushed his way. Award-winning smile returning from the scowl he’d been sporting the last fifteen minutes, the boy reached out for the shake and took a long, slow sip. 

Roxy had to grip the leather as she watched, stomach turning while deciding she forgave him for anything that had happened in their date up until this point. 

“There’s two straws,” The writer joked, waggling her brows a few times before her boyfriend took the hint, eyes widening as he hastily pushed it back to the center of the table. 

Leaning forward, he murmured, “Very romantic…” 

Following his lead, Roxy did the same, excited to try one of the most delicious-looking shakes she’d ever seen, before James flinched again and whisper-screamed, “Too romantic!” Before she knew it, his hands were flying toward her face - no, toward the drink - as he tore out both of the straws, splattering her face with some of the freezing cold concoction as he practically ripped it from the table in front of her. Without disturbing the other patrons, somehow, James made it to the table he’d been keeping an eye on and set the milkshake down on the counter, claiming that their waiter had forgotten a part of their meal. 

Two milkshakes for Kyle and Katie, zero milkshakes for Roxy. Maybe I was too quick to forgive him.

When James made his way back to the table, a proud look gracing his features, he effortlessly slid into the booth. Dramatically dusting off his hands as though he’d just saved the day, he was startled when Roxy slid beside him, trapping him into the small space. 

“Could you pass me a napkin, please?” She asked him, doing her best to remain sweet, gesturing to the napkin holder tucked into the wall behind him. For added effect, she leaned into him, hoping the chocolate and cream specks on her face were fully visible. 

To her surprise, her boyfriend actually pulled away from her, because she had temporarily blocked his view of Kyle and Katie. “Yeah, yeah, sure.”

It was only when he handed them over to her did he glanced her way, taking note of her soiled features. For the first time that night, Roxy could feel the intensity of his gaze, softening slightly as he breathed, “Shit. Did I do that?”

Bringing the paper to her face, Roxy slowly nodded as she worked to clean herself up. His quiet apology could barely be heard over the loud music of the diner, the chatter of its patrons, and his girlfriend asking, “How old were you when you went on your first date?” 

James blinked. “You’re not supposed to talk about old dates while on a date. It’s bad luck or something.”

“Humor me,” She requested, one hand falling to the rough fabric of his dark jeans. Everyone had awkward date stories, right? So if James aired his out, he might feel more comfortable in backing off on Katie. “I want to know everything.”

“O-okay,” Though he stuttered, he obliged, eyes still darting over to the other table despite the drumming of Roxy’s fingertips on his solid thigh. “I was twelve - If you don’t count playground dates in elementary school - and a girl from my bio class, Yasmine, and I went to see a hockey game. She said she was a fan so I got my mom to buy us tickets, but when we got here she didn’t know a thing about the game; Said she had seen me in a Kings jersey and thought it was the easiest way to hang out with me, which struck me as strange because I think I’m pretty easy to talk to. It was fun but awkward overall. She liked me way more than I liked her.” 

“So even James Diamond has embarrassing first dates?” 

“No! Never! I was a perfect, charming, gorgeous, perfect gentleman. It just didn’t work between us is all,” was his defense, said with such conviction that Roxy didn’t believe he understood what she was trying to get at with this particular line of questioning. Before she could dig deeper, however, he asked her the same question. “What about you?” 

If they hadn’t been so close it would have been difficult for her to hear the slight break in his voice.

“I was fourteen, so you’ve got a few years on me,” Roxy shared with a chuckle, deeming it only fair since James had offered up his story so easily. “One of the part-time cashiers at the music store asked me out. Turns out we both went to Twin Pines High and Keaton was just a year older than me. We went for a nice picnic in the park. My dad was so nervous about me dating that he sat on our front porch the whole evening waiting for me to come home. Made it super awkward when he could see Keaton kiss me under the street lamp before he walked me to the door. Freaked him out so bad he didn’t call me that night. Or ever again.” 

There was no way James didn’t get the memo from that little story; She’d captured his attention long enough that he hadn’t glanced over his shoulder in a few minutes, so Roxy felt comfortable enough to give his leg a squeeze and move back over to her side of the booth. As she did, her boyfriend blew a raspberry, “Pft! Scared of your dad… How silly…”

“Would you get me a new milkshake, baby?” She asked, bypassing his statement entirely by reaching out one hand and grasping his, while the other hit a button on the wall box she’d been eyeing since they sat down. 

James nodded, finally turning his full attention to his girlfriend as the romantic tune began to flow through the speaker, setting the mood for their date night. 

Forget about Katie, forget about Kyle, it’s just me and James…

… Until James abruptly pulled his hand out of hers, practically launching himself over the back of their booth, and made a bee-line for the young couple’s table. 

Discretion was his enemy for the time being, as he leaned over the table the two of them shared, slapping the wall box over and over again as he yelled something or other about a mute button for the amorous tune before he gave up entirely. Gripping the machine on both sides, James ripped it from the wall entirely, sparks flying in the direction of Kyle and Katie in a way that made Roxy wince in fear. 

Standing now with the destroyed box in his hands, James let out a pained laugh as he held the aging device, “There… Heh… That’s better.” 

“No! It’s not!” Katie screamed back, index finger circling her temples while she stood, squaring up to the boy with at least a foot and a half on her. With flared nostrils, she shoved him in the chest and the boy was easily pushed to the side, as she stood in front of Kyle, hand out, declaring, “Come on, we can get a hot dog at the movie.”

Slapping a few bills down on the table for the food they didn’t even get to enjoy, Katie took Kyle’s hand and stomped toward the door. Eagerly, Kyle stood up to follow, beating her to the door to open it up in a way that made Roxy’s heart melt faster than the forgotten shakes on their table. 

Just as she went to slide out of the booth to console her boyfriend, a waiter cut the girl off as he delivered their burgers to the table. Meanwhile, Roxy heard a clattering from the other side of the restaurant, which was presumably James putting the speaker down on the table, and a moment later the waiter disappeared, and he sat in front of her again, adorable pout causing him to stick out his bottom lip. 

“Look, the food’s here,” She tried, weakly waving her hand over the delectable-smelling burgers. Even though James ordered onions on his, she had it in her heart to forgive him after trying so hard to look after the girl he considered a little sister, only to be burned so badly. 

James reached for her hand and Roxy thought that to be a good sign, before he glanced back toward the door and shared, “The food here is terrible! Let’s just get a hot dog at the movies!” 

***

It was against the Somerset family code to leave a good burger uneaten, a code Roxy had never broken in her seventeen years of life. Until tonight. Now standing alone in the lobby of the movie theater, alone, she was thinking about how juicy the patty had looked, piled high with all of her favorite toppings. 

Despite promising to purchase tickets earlier in the day, apparently James hadn’t once he caught wind of Katie’s date, so he was off at the front counter to see if there were any more seats open to the same showing of Kiss and Tell all their friends were attending. 

Not that it matters… We can see it in a different theater. She told herself, slowly taking a deep breath in through her nose and holding it for a few seconds before letting it go out of her mouth. James is just distracted is all. He’s worried; You getting on him for it won’t make him feel better. 

Repeating that last line a few more times in her head was beginning to help her ignore the hunger pangs radiating off her growling stomach. At the very least, seeing other teens walk by with their small bags of popcorn - that took two full arms to carry - made her feel better about the snack outcome of the evening. While she still mourned the burger, salty, buttery popcorn and a large soda certainly wouldn’t make her feel any worse. 

While James reached the front of the line, Roxy scanned the theater, recognizing it was crawling with all of her friends. Not a shock, but still interesting to watch. Perhaps these next few minutes would be just as entertaining as Kiss and Tell, minus the making out of course, as she recalled all the situations they’d also found themselves in. 

Like Camille had mentioned over text, she was sat at one of the small tables on the opposite side of the theater, and Roxy caught a glimpse of the back of Steve’s head in one of the many refreshments lines. Though they were there together, it wasn’t lost on the assistant that she was dressed in one of Logan’s favorite outfits. The royal blue dress she had on, paired with a dark set of leggings complimented her features perfectly; She looked like an absolute dream. The only problem was, she was staring at Logan, also in one of the refreshment lines. 

Both of them had thought it was time to move on and see other people and were certainly making strides to, but it was clear, even from a distance how that was affecting Camille. And Logan too, because when Camille pulled her phone out of her small clutch bag to check something, his gaze flickered her way as well. 

On instinct, Roxy’s feet began to move in the direction of her forlorn friend, even if the two of them were on dates, and she nearly collided with a beautiful blonde girl around her age carrying a personal popcorn tray. 

“Sorry!” The young woman squeaked, straight blonde hair passing just below her shoulders. Nervously, she brought a finger to the bridge of her thick, black glasses to push them back up. 

With a small wave of her hand, Roxy brushed it off, “I wasn’t looking; It was my bad.” 

Both exchanging polite smiles, she let the girl go on her way to the line, jaw nearly dropping when she linked up with, of all the people in the crowded building, Logan.

Nice to meet you, Peggy!

By the time Roxy had shaken that awkward encounter out of her head and planned to make her way over to Camille, she and Steve were already headed toward the theater to find their seats for the show. 

Raised voices on the opposite side of the room alerted her to the presence of Jo, Kendall, and Carlos. The helmet wearer was sandwiched between the couple, who were fighting beside him like two kids in the back of the car on a long road trip, going back and forth at each other. 

What that was all about, Roxy was certainly curious, but would wait for Jo to give her the scoop about later. Though she was elated that Kendall and Jo got along so well, they fought just as hard as they loved. All of their friends knew better than to get between the two of them when they were angry with each other, lest they get pulled into the drama as well. 

Katie and Kyle had gotten lost in the arcade portion of the theater, which left Roxy still standing all by herself and James comfortable enough to take his eyes off of them while he got their tickets. 

After a few minutes of absent-minded scrolling on her phone, James found her again, physical tickets in hand.

“There you are!” The girl joked, light-hearted words hopefully masking a newfound sense of anxiety blooming in her chest now that the two were standing next to each other in public. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed all four members of Big Time Rush standing in the theater lobby, but only time would tell. “I’m so excited to see this movie, I think you’ll love the chef’s character - He’s a lot like you! So romantic!”

“Not as romantic as… The Unicorn Princess!” He held up both of his hands, with an ear-to-ear grin, two ticket stubs in each. “Which I just got four tickets to, much more appropriate for the kids!” 

Be it the rapid beating of her heart in her chest from her nerves or some leftover annoyance she hadn’t gotten a proper dinner, his girlfriend swallowed, setting her jaw. “Katie wanted to see Kiss and Tell too, James. Didn’t we agree earlier that’s what we were going to see?”

“We did, but the plans changed! We can’t take them in there with us… She only wanted to see it because you do! She looks up to you, you know,” The boy shared as if that would make this situation any better. 

“She looks up to you too, babe! That’s why I’ve been trying to get you to tone down the protectiveness all night… I know you two share something really special and I don’t want to see that spoiled because you’re trying to scare Kyle! Why do you think I brought up the story about my dad?” 

Glittering hazel eyes widening, James put his hands down, shuffling through the four pieces of paper in his hands. “You told me all that to get me to stop? I thought it was encouragement! Like ‘everyone has awkward dates, so they won’t think it’s weird if you’re overprotective’ or something.”

Roxy was barely able to contain the snort that left her nose, palm flying to the bottom of her face. “You’re joking! My sob story had the complete opposite effect?” James nodded and his girlfriend continued, “God, hanging out with Kendall has made me think I’m just as good at speeches as he is, apparently… I can’t believe that didn’t work at all…”

“All it made me grateful for was the Keaton guy never calling you back,” James admitted, slinging an arm around her shoulder to pull Roxy closer into him. “Because he would never, ever take you to see The Unicorn Princess, songbird. I even splurged for 3-D.” 

Her playful punch landed right into the solid muscle of his bicep, “Fine. Just promise you’ll take me to Kiss and Tell before it leaves the theaters?” 

A kiss to her temple worked in perfect place of that vow, just as Katie came running up to the couple from the arcade. 

“Hey! We’re gonna pass on Kiss and Tell. Did you know that movie’s full of people kissing? I should’ve guessed since you two wanted to go so bad…”

Carrying a small bag of popcorn and a large soda with two straws in the other, Kyle shuddered at his date’s side. “We’re just gonna hang out in the arcade and go home with my sister later.”

As Roxy opened her mouth to protest and let them know about the new show they were planning on going to, James practically melted into the floor, two tickets dropping out of his hand as he moaned, “Oh, thank goodness…”

At the same time, the line for one of the racing games Kyle wanted to play let up, and he happily bounded over to secure two spots for himself and Katie. 

The pair expected her to follow, but instead, her eyes narrowed, giving James and Roxy identical chills shooting down their spines. Now that Kyle was out of earshot, it was the perfect time for Katie to rip them a new one. 

“You know, you were really annoying today with all that overprotective stuff!”

What the hell did I do? Roxy thought to herself, but let the young girl continue to vent. She supposed being around him the entire time was enough to count her as an accessory.

With a defeated sigh, James' grip on Roxy tightened as he looked to the floor, “Yeah, I know. Rox tried to warn me but I-”

His apology was cut off as Katie took a few steps forward, unexpectedly throwing her arms around the both of them. With as much strength as her little body could muster, which was quite a lot actually, she squeezed as tightly as she could, breathing out a small, “Thanks. Both of you, for everything today.” 

Looking towards each other, James and Roxy felt their brows shoot to their hairlines. Certainly, not the reaction they’d been expecting from her, but they appreciated it nonetheless, familiar signs of embarrassment creeping up to their cheeks and ears as they hugged her back. 

As she let them go, turning to head back over to where Kyle was, Katie shot them a small wave before heading off to enjoy the rest of her date. Pride swelled in the writer’s chest as she watched the two of them for a moment, excited to write down this new development in her journal later, and she nudged her date with her shoulder. “Looks like I stand corrected. Feel free to go cuckoo on her next date too!” 

Rich laughter poured into her ears like honey as James reacted to her statement. 

“Think they’ll let you trade those in for a pair to Kiss and Tell? We’ll have missed some of the previews but if we hurry we might make the start of the film.” Roxy flicked the tickets in her boyfriend’s hand, beginning to walk over to the box office before noticing Kendall, Carlos, and Logan standing beside each other in the middle of the room. 

The three looked haggard, just completely dejected, hugging a tub of licorice and two large sodas to their chests respectively. 

“Uh, oh,” She heard James mutter, glancing up to find him looking in the same direction. “Their dates left; They messed up. I can feel it.” Free hand leaving Roxy’s side to pinch the bridge of his nose, the boy let out a sigh. “So I doubt they’ll want to see Kiss and Tell anymore. Is it cool if I go buy an extra ticket to The Unicorn Princess? It’s starting in a few and it’ll be too late to refund the other four…”

“Don’t worry about it, baby… Seems like a little bit of guy time is in order and I certainly wouldn’t want to intrude. Besides, my first date story kind of has me missing my dad. I wouldn’t mind sitting out here and calling him, honestly. It’s been a while since we last talked. Link up when the movie’s done?”

“Are you sure? I already made you skip dinner, I wouldn’t want to make you skip the movie too,” He told her, fanning himself with the four tickets in his hand. 

When Roxy nodded, he bent down to give her a quick kiss, tasting the cotton candy lip gloss she’d been intending to save as a surprise for their make-out session. “Next night we’re free I promise we’ll be back here to see Kiss and Tell!” 

“And we’re going back to Funburger for a proper meal!” Roxy called after him with a smile.

So what if the date’s a bust? She asked herself, as the boys reconnected and wandered off in search of the only theater playing The Unicorn Princess in 3-D. At least I got to see one of my favorite sides of James…

***

With most of the movies for the evening starting around the same time, the concession lines grew short enough for Roxy to sneak in and buy a large Peppy Cola before taking a seat at the same table Camille had been sitting at earlier. Sugary sips and bubbles popping on her tongue gave the girl a wonderful pick me up after the last few hours, and she pulled out her cell phone to place a call back home. 

It was there, that she saw a few texts from Jo and Camille, vaguely referring to two separate yet disastrous evenings, begging for a sleepover debrief in the next few days. Just as she was about to shoot off a “Free tomorrow night?” message to her friends, her screen was overtaken by a call notification. 

Normally, at this time of night, she’d decline it. No need to talk to anyone this late unless it was an emergency, but the name at the top caught her eye, twisting her stomach.

Incoming call: Gustavo Rocque

Gustavo never called her unless it was urgent.

With a shaking finger, she pressed accept, bringing the speaker to her ear. “Hello?”“What the hell is a Brand New Day and why did they just book Big Time Rush to appear at their album release party tomorrow night?”

[municiberg]

📌intro post

Hey, welcome to my blog! My name is Cameron, but I've also gone as Sam in the past.

🦸‍♂️ 26 🦸‍♂️ they/them 🦸‍♂️ previous urls: screensllaver, deav0rs, shelectra 🦸‍♂️ main: @princeproteus 🦸‍♂️ personal carrd 🦸‍♂️ ao3 🦸‍♂️ youtube

I've ran this Incredibles blog since 2018, but I've loved the franchise since 2004! With Incredibles 3 just announced, I thought now was the right time to write a new intro post, since I'll (hopefully) be getting more active.

I like to post about theories, headcanons, and any and all general Incredibles-related thoughts. I also love getting asks with your thoughts and headcanons about the series. I'd love to talk about the Incredibles with you!

I have some playlists of Incredibles-related stuff like bonus features, deleted scenes, the scores, and other stuff, if you'd like to check those out. I also have a spreadsheet which lists the characters in the franchise, and all the various books, shorts, and video games that I could find, among other info, if you're interested in taking a peek at that! I may be neurodivergent lmao

I have a soft spot for all the characters, but my most beloveds are Voyd and the rest of the wannabes, Mirage, and especially the Deavors! I also love the glory days supers, especially Gazerbeam. I'm definitely a multishipper and Hevelyn, Wingazer/Winsterbeam, and Evelage are some of my faves. I don't have a problem with most ships unless they're incest or adult/minor - Winlet, Synlet, Elastigale, etc.

I haven't written Incredibles fanfic in a hot minute, but the fics I'm most proud of are:

🦸‍♂️ The Soaring Six & the Queen of Hearts: 130k words, T-rated, general (no pairings), focused on Voyd and the other wannabes as they adjust to life as supers in New Urbem. I wrote this in a fevered haze powered by the strongest hyperfixation I've ever gone through, and it's still the longest thing I've ever written and the only novel-length work I've ever finished! I know it's long and the lack of romance can be a turn-off, but if you decide to give it a shot, please let me know what you think - I'd love to hear it! 🦸‍♂️ Five times Gazerbeam didn't get the joke (plus one time he did): 12k words, T-rated, oneshot, Gazerbeam/Winston Deavor. This pairing only has a flimsy basis in canon, but I love it so so much, and this fic basically encapsulates all the reasons I'm obsessed with them. Winsterbeam you will always be famous.

I've also written several others, so feel free to check them out!

Since 2018, I've owned Incredibles Antics, a small and tight-knit community server by and for people who love the Incredibles. If you're a fan, please feel free to join us!

I've also tried to keep a tradition of hosting yearly streams to celebrate the anniversaries of I1 and I2, so please keep a lookout for links around the time of the films' release anniversaries. We typically watch the first and second movies along with assorted special features and other related fun videos. All are welcome to join!

I think that's it for now. Thanks so much for reading!

[icemav86]

hi! your commenter from the other day here. thank you for the reccing offer. 🥰 do you happen have any other icemav recs for me where they‘re already old(er) when they finally figure out their shit? i‘ll also take any recs where there‘s angst with a happy ending (but preferably not dadt- or health-related and more like 'they‘re idiots who pine and miscommunicate'). or AUs! sorry for being so picky 😅 let‘s see what you got for me 🤩

Here are a few starter recs that I think fit what you're looking for. Feel free to ping more for more (and let me know what you liked so I can rec more like them).

The first three are fics with pining & angst that I read over and over again before TGM and still return to.

What You Don't Know by Chemm80. This is one of my favorite icemav fics. The summary is "Maverick finds Iceman handcuffed to his bed. He has a hard time getting over it" and it's got great angst with a happy ending. Bottom Ice, if that matters to you. Explicit, 7.7k

Kings of the Air by FabulaRasa. Set right after TG86, there's great angst driven by two men who'd be well served by having an actual conversation or two. Explicit, 25k

if you're not asking (then i'm not telling) by storiesofmylife. Great pining in this fic. Explicit, 9k (and here's another by storiesofmylife while I'm looking at their fic: everybody on this earth has got a vice (and mine is the opposite of ice)

no brighter diamond by @qin-ling is a 5+1 - five times Ice thinks I love you, and one time he finally says it. It's beautifully written and has great pining. Explicit, 12k

Hello Stranger by Serie11. It's another 5+1 (Ice and Mav attending weddings together) and the pining is so raw it hurts. Teen, 25k

I don't read a ton of AU's but @film-in-my-soul/ReformedTsundere has great ones. This is probably my favorite: Mr. Swipe Right. It's a tinder au, explicit, 18k. (My favorite of Alex's AUs, though, is her hangster glory hole BDSM AU)

I'll also be that person and drop a link to the one AU I wrote (Bakery AU): you got the peaches, I got the cream. Explicit, 5k

To your question about later-in-life icemav, everything's all by the way by @cristinuke was just recently written for the Endless Summer exchange and is older Icemav finally getting their shit together. Teen, 3.5k

Hope you enjoy!

[cabezadeperro]

cabezadeperro's year in review (fic version)

Hi, hello! It's the last day of the year, and what a year 2023 has been. I moved to a different continent in Fall 2022, but I somehow found the time to keep writing and posting Star Wars fanfiction for the fourth year in a row.

These are some of my favourite fics I posted this year. I didn't write as much or as often as I'd like, but I am pretty proud of some of my work, so. Here it is!

Also, I'm very bad at replying to comments but thanks so much to all of you who take the time and leave one. I know my stuff is very often niche and kind of weird, so if you clicked and read and enjoyed one of my fics this year: I appreciate it a lot. Thank you so much.

dead men walking | E | Commander Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi | 63k

It was supposed to be an easy job: prisoner transports are always quick money. Three years after waking up from cryo, Cody—formerly known as ICC-2224—finds himself working as a bounty hunter for one of the guilds. He has a body that doesn’t feel his, a memory full of holes, and little else. When the man he’s guarding escapes, Cody finds himself following one Obi-Wan Kenobi across a war-torn galaxy and into the most dangerous job of all: stealing a mysterious artifact from the heart of the New Republic.

This was my fic for the 2022 Codywan Big Bang. It was Very hard to write and the reason I decided to stop participating in events for the rest of 2023. I kind of hate it, but I'm also pretty proud of it (because I finished despite it all, and also I think it's pretty good).

You'll like it if: you enjoy good artwork (cowboy's illustration of Cody in bed is probably one of my favourite pieces of Cody fanart, and I love punk's cover an absurd amount), weird AUs, cyberpunk, and being depressed.

fortunate son | M | Commander Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Commander Cody/Commander Fox, Commander Cody & Captain Rex | 12k

On change.

This was one of those fics I started in 2022 and finished in 2023. It's my take of the No Order 66 trope that attempts to deal with ideas of change and growing and adapting to new places, new people, and new sides of people you've known for a while. (Gee, I wonder why I wrote this fic the year I moved across the world.)

I'm also really proud of the codyfox prequel I published the other day, secant, but I think this one is more--ambitious?

You'll like it if: you like studying Cody like the bug and complicated relationships, and would like to read a slightly different take on the Fix-It/No Order 66 trope.

sulphur and tea | M | Obi-Wan Kenobi/Jango Fett | 1.8K

They say Jango Fett fell in battle, that the thing that walks and fights and wears his beskar is something else. Obi-Wan knows better.

There are a few games I get very obsessed with every now and then, and one of them is Ghost of Tsushima. This fic is a very vague adaptation of the concept behind the main character of those games, applied to Jango. I had A Lot of fun writing it though it fought me quite a bit, and it allowed me to play with one of the most popular kenfetti tropes from a different perspective. It's one of those fics that I'd like to write a sequel/prequel/spin-off to sometime.

You'll like it if: you like whump (especifically Jango whump) and What Ifs about the Mandalorian Civil War and the first years of Anakin's padawanship.

choosing to be chosen | E | ARC Trooper Echo/ARC Trooper Fives | 6.6k

ARC troopers always work in pairs.

I wrote this as a gift for a friend who wrote what's probably my favourite Echo/Fives fic ever (which I just remembered was also a gift for me lmao). I don't write this ship as much or as often as I'd like, but I'm very happy about how this one turned out--I think I nailed why I find this relationship so compelling (the inevitable tragedy, the fact that they keep choosing each other, the fact that they cannot help but choose each other). I also had a lot of fun writing Fives! He's such a messed up, interesting little dude.

You'll like it if: you enjoy intense relationships, sexual and romantic tension, baby's first attempt at milwank, Fives being clever and in love and just that tiny bit manipulative.

the price of blood | T | Commander Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi | 13.8k

A year and a half after the beginning of Cody and Rex's rebellion, Palpatine reaches out to Kenobi: he wants to talk to him, and he doesn't want Cody to be there. It goes as well as expected.

This is one of those fics that get out of hand. I wrote it because someone left an ask saying they loved the first part of what is now a series (it's not actually a series on AO3; I was planning to make it one but I forgor. as I do.) I really love fantasy and all its subgenres and I don't write it as much as I'd like, so it was the perfect chance to go ham and do a bit of of worldbuilding for fun. I'm not super happy with the ending, but I really like everything else, so.

You'll like it if: you like low fantasy, the environmental storytelling approach to fantasy worldbuilding, complicated relationships and characters keeping secrets. Oh, and Cody whump.

five times cody and rex shared a bed and one time they wished they could | T | Commander Cody/Captain Rex | 4.7k

Cody and Rex throughout the war.

This fic is very much what it says on the tin: Cody and Rex from when they first meet each other, through the war and their slow loss of trust in each other, until they meet again after the war ends. This format of fic is very popular for a reason, what can I say. I really enjoyed writing it, and I think I did a pretty good job portraying their potential relationship as I see it through a bunch of scenes.

You'll like it if: you like bittersweet endings, canon-adjacent fic, and Cody and Rex being insane about each other.

And that's it! Thanks for reading (again), and I hope you have a great NYE and a great 2024--I think we all fucking deserve it.

[l-e-morgan-author]

my current wip list

Hands Made for Gentleness is about my two dear idiots Vaniah and Anneka, who get married to dodge an arranged-marriage law. Vaniah is incredibly traumatised by events in his past. Anneka discovers this as time goes by. It's a story of healing, mainly, and mental health. Boatload of trigger warnings (Vaniah is severely depressed, suicidal and all that goes with that, while Anneka is in recovery from anorexia) but I love them so much and I love the energy that's between them. At this moment I'm writing a scene in which they're arguing because Vaniah abruptly shut down a kissing scene without explanation and the conversation afterwards got mildly heated. Also they basically end up in a QPR more than a traditional romantic relationship and I love that for them. They're late twenties or so during this novel. First draft.

Patience, Changing is about Patience and her adopted sister Rhona. Patience is my autistic darling, Rhona is my current Discord pfp and anyway I love them. They have interpersonal conflicts that form the nucleus of the novel, but they work them out in the end. Teenagers, and absolutely no romantic relationships in this story which I love. Also it's set in my home city of Melbourne. First draft.

To Kindle a Flame is the first book of an embarrassingly big series. I first wrote the earliest draft for camp nanowrimo or nanowrimo itself, 2017. It started out as one book, in fact started out as a simple response to a concept outlined and failed to bring to a satisfying conclusion by a Christian book by someone in my denomination - In Search of Life by Anna Tikvah. I loved the concept (girl has questions about life, turns to the Bible and reads it, things happen), but then Verity never questioned that the Bible was true, which seemed wack to me. So I started writing a story in which my main character (Adira) found a copy of the Bible and then began to read it, but the whole time she's questioning it. It turned into about 300k of messy drafting (I've drafted it uhh three times by now and am gradually working on overhauling it, grabbing what bits I can and then finishing the draft, ideally this year) and has become a story about mental health, choices and the way people figure out beliefs. In the Gospels there's a line in which Pilate says "What is truth?" - that's basically the tagline of To Kindle a Flame. It's also dystopian. It's my beloved baby. Anyway I'm normal about this story. Also Adira is autistic. Oops. I didn't intend that. I just looked at her character one day and went Yet Another Autistic Character Ay. xD It's also set in Melbourne, but aforementioned dystopia renders Melbourne unrecognisable. I've done a bunch of worldbuilding on her. Also features the character who was the first openly queer character I ever wrote - Tom, who's bi, though he ends up married to Adira and never has a mlm relationship during the story (has prior - in the story he's side B). Somewhere between first and second drafts.

Do Roses Cast Shadows? was the most recent nanowrimo, and I got a grand total of 12k into it. I uh. Don't know what's going on really. I don't recall much, but I'd like to get back to it someday. My characters are Wren and I can't recall the male main character's name.

They Told Me To Name My Demons is a poetry collection I'm working up to publication someday. It's about Christianity, suicidality, depression, autism and identity. I plan to include 100 poems and 7 prose pieces, of which I've so far written and somewhat edited 84 poems (might have a few more, I haven't crossreferenced with my phone lately) and 4 pieces of prose. The title is from a blog post I read years ago and then wrote a poem in response to. Most of the poems have been written in the last year or two. I chase inspiration where I see it. First draft.

Sparks Under Heaven is a collection of five short stories/novellas, all connected to To Kindle a Flame (one features Adira, two her grandfather, one someone another character knew in his youth and the other focuses on an event from To Kindle a Flame but from someone else's perspective). I've had it professionally edited but the edits are sitting there still waiting to be touched, largely. Second-last round of edits before I self publish.

Through Lightning, Through Thunder was nanowrimo 2022, the happiest novel I've ever written and absolutely beloved. It features Taira (rabbit), Paddy (fox), Sheba (lynx), and various less important characters. It started out life as a Narnia fanfic, focused around my original characters with occasional mentions of the Four. It was 15k. Then I fleshed it out into a full original novel, 100k-and-counting. Oopsie. The good guys are trying to stop an evil dragon being resurrected (based on the Witch scene in Prince Caspian). In the end everyone lives happily ever after. Yay. Second draft.

[Inklings story] is about Hadassah, autistic darling of my heart who is thrown through a portal and discovers a found family on the other side, essentially. Downtrodden autistic but becomes happy and confident. First draft.

The Time Travelling Midwife is about Felicity, ALSO autistic (surprise!). I haven't got very far with this one either, it exists mostly in vibes in my mind. It's best summarised as the story with the time travelling midwife, who travels in time, is an angel, tries to stop evil from prevailing and when it does eventually through the building of the tower of Babel (mainly facilitated by one of her colleagues), her time travelling powers are taken away and she ends up settling somewhere in the 1900s and having a happy life. First draft.

Only the first and second are in active development right now. Please ask me about any part of any thing of this post. I copied and pasted directly from the Discord in which I rambled about them.

If I've forgotten any wips that you know about please tell me, lol. And this is only about full length novels or collections, not shorter stories.

[nani-nonny]

Been writing on and off for a whole day, distracted by multiple surrounding stimuli not expecting much from the word count but might as well check

O.O

i—

Do you see that number???

12k. 12000. TWELVE THOUSAND. 1. 2. K.

That’s from ch.4 of DisMir alone. Not including the ending scene that I already wrote.

Maybe… just maybe i should split this chapter in two. If that’s what readers want, I don’t mind either way. I still need to finish writing the final part of the finale. Should I extend this story to five chapters and post chapter four (the first half of the finale) or just finish this in one full, long finale chapter?

Maybe I’ll poll this for DisMir readers. Maybe not. But I need a writing break.

[mothmage]

20 Qs for fic writers

Tagged by @monstersinthecosmos , thank you!!!

1. How many works do you have on A03? 31 (and a few anon, i think 2 or 3. idk, when i post a fic on anon i forget about it forever)

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 446,135

3. What fandoms do you write for? currently/primarily vc, iwtv (amc), star wars, and merlin (bbc)!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? A Lovely Little Normal Life (which, honestly, kind of annoys me lol. i know it's just bc it's a huge fandom, but really? the stupid little 12k harry potter fic i wrote in two days is my most kudos? please...); Arthur Pendragon, Long May She Reign (forever pushing my lesbian genderswap agenda); The Face of God (les mis slightly canon divergent javert character study); The Odyssey of Recollection (amc iwtv s1 pov armand); Away From Stranger Tides (potc philip/syrena fic i started ages ago and never finished, lol)

5. Do you respond to comments? yes i love talking to people in comments!!!! i've made a lot of friends through comments!!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? omg. umm. merthur fans don't know this yet bc i havent finished posting but it's arthur pendragon long may she reign (BUT it's part of a series, so it's literally fine). idk, i dont tend to write long fics that end angsty. but my angstiest fic in general is probably Hollow-Boned Boy (armand contemplating his human life in the early CoD era) or Vision of the Damned (daniel's turning from armand's pov)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? i love a happy ending!! my series Odysseus in White Silk is probably the happiest ending, and in such an undeserved way hahaha it's so very AU because i was sad after s1 of the show and just wanted them all (and armandaniel) to live happily ever after

8. Do you get hate on fics? i dont think i ever have, but i tend to read comments in good faith too, so maybe someone out there is annoyed that i interpreted their vague dislike comment as a genuine comment or something, idk. in general though, i'll say no

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? yes but i dont post that often, idk if there's a particular kind, but generally it tends to be a little rougher than is probably appropriate without discussion in real-life situations, but also very...idk my friend described it as very tender, like theyre very clearly in love. which is so funny considering that that kind of tenderness irl gives me fucking hives lmfao

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? oh wow, not in a long time. i do have a wip sitting around rn that's a crossover between london spy and cloud atlas, which is really crazy until you remember that ben whishaw is in both london spy and the cloud atlas movie lol. and cloud atlas is already about weird reincarnations and parallel worlds and stuff, so it isnt too out-there.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? i dont think so!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? yes!! The Face of God was translated into Korean by ao3 user Crescent919 !! i've had a few comments on other fics asking to translate for personal use (always yes, of course), but no one else has asked to share a translation publicly

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? no!! i've been thinking about it lately though

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? all-time? probably merlin/arthur from merlin (bbc). it's the whole fate-destiny-choice thing, it just compels me like nothing else

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? hmmm, i would like to finish Roswell -- well, kinda (agent carter farm girl / alien crash landing au) because i still have all the original notes and outlines and stuff. i also made a shitty conlang when i was first writing it, which is crazy lol. but it would need some pretty serious revisions, and i would definitely rewrite the first few chapters that i posted years ago. i just kind of lost the agent carter bug, but i might return to that fic if i ever get in the mood for it again.

16. What are your writing strengths? ooh, i'm not really sure! i get a lot of comments mentioning characters' voices and/or personalities, so i would say maybe that!!! i also feel that i'm fairly good at mimicking an author's writing style when i want to (notably, i do not mimic anne rice when writing vc fic, lol)

17. What are your writing weaknesses? editing for sure. i have at least a hundred fics sitting on my hard drive fully or almost-fully written that i just need to edit. but i would simply rather die than do all of that. it's also why my whole merlin fic got put on pause while i went down the vc rabbithole, because i just can't bring myself to go edit the next chapters lol

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? hmm, i think it's usually unnecessary and comes off as a bit silly. that said, i did do it once (maybe excessively) in Daniel Molloy, Time Bandit (1984 daniel ends up in 1794 theatre des vampires, it's more of a character study than a time travel fic) BUT, let me defend myself -- i did it because daniel doesnt understand french, it's his pov, and he's incredibly confused and distraught for most of the fic. i felt like the dialogue being in french conveyed this sort of "daniel does not belong in this time/place" vibes. but, also, my french is...a little rough. so i'm sure it's an annoying fic for french readers lmao

19. First fandom you wrote for? warriors cats, a million years ago hahahah

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? ok, i have three different answers for this. the fic i think is the best, objectively, in terms of writing and content: The Story of Dani [...] (r63 devil's minion from armand's pov, starting with lestat's house). the fic i am the proudest of, mostly because it was my first "big" fic (it's funny now, bc it's only 41k) and i feel like i grew a lot as a writer while working on it, and i'm still happy with it: The Face of God (les mis pov javert, character study from childhood). the fic i have the most fun with and think about almost 24/7: Arthur Pendragon, Long May She Reign (r63 merthur, canon divergence, this is like a 4-part series that's currently over 300k lmao)

no-pressure tagging: @aunteat @leslutdepointedulac @butchybats @graygiantess and anyone else who wants to!!

[astrowaffles]

Hi, can I ask your top favorite fics that you've written (feel free how much that you want to list)? Why they're special to you? Is there a specific inspiration when you wrote them?

Hello! My favourite fics are often ones overlooked by the general public (who, for some reason, like showering love on the fics I hated writing and/or regret posting). Hence this list will be full of very short and very silly fics, since I like those best.

The Megumi-Isn't-Breathing Incident

This was only the second fic I wrote for JJK, and yet it's one of my favourites. First of all, it was written for one of my very first supporters, selcouthwanderer, whose comments I really miss. If not for them, there's no way I would've kept writing for Gojo & Megumi. Second of all, it was my very first foray into anything resembling angst (and it's still really fluffy. sigh) and it's proof to me that I have range as a writer. I'm mostly silly and I try hard to be funny, but I know I can be serious and I can dive deeper into my characters. Third of all, I think it's really well written! I genuinely surprised myself, upon rereading it, with the quality of my writing. I don't think I write to that standard normally, which makes it all the more special. If I wanted someone to think well of me as a writer, I'd show them to this fic.

2. Jump, then Fall

This one was written for the fengqing gotcha for gaza, so it came less from inspiration and more from a prompt by my good pal makki (@makkisucks). Still, I'm majorly proud of it!! It's much longer than anything I've written before and follows a plotline. Did everything turn out how I want? No. There are still things I'd change about it. But, again, it represents a major hill i climbed over - the curse of only writing 2k and then getting stuck. J,TF is 12k and completely coherent throughout. Win!

3. Chronically Ill Platypus

By contrast, this one's only 758 words and there's literally 0 plot. I like this one because it's the content I wish other people would produce so I can read it. Complex Matchablossom angst is fabulous but I wish more people actually looked at their relationship in its most basic form: they're best friends. Have been since they were five. They bring out the silliest, pettiest, most emotional side of each other and sometimes all you really want is to see them be best friends. I got a few comments along the lines of "thanks for writing them like this!! everyone wants to ship them these days (eye roll)" so I do want to be clear, I SHIP MATCHABLOSSOM. But sometimes friendship is more important than whether or not they kiss. I feel the same about iwaoi; I don't always want to see them kiss, I want to see them be silly and comfortable with each other like best friends are.

4. Bon Jovi, Autographs, and Sunshine

I haven't read over it in a while so I have no idea if it's up to current writing standards (my writing has noticeably improved over the last few years) but I remember loving this one. Justice for solangelo! I also remember someone marking it as 'ooc but i like it'. I nearly threw myself out the window because I really pride myself on my characterisation. But I stand by it, to be honest, I don't think it's ooc to any noticeable extent.

ANYWAYS. I like this fic because, again, it's the kind of thing I wish there was more of. It's chaotic and ridiculous and has no plot, it's just soft and I can literally see it in my mind's eye, tinted yellow, warm, fun... Solangelo was a massive comfort ship for me for years and this was just me expressing that. I only ever write for myself and this was peak Astro Fanfiction!!

Thanks for the ask! I hope to see you in the comments of some of these >:)

[sunriseverse]

twenty questions for fic writers!

tagged by @chirpybirdy (thank you!!!)

tagging: @lucientelrunya @butchybats @cedarbranch @lunarriviera @killerandhealerqueen and anyone else who wants to participate! questions below the cut.

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

434 in total! about half of those are from when i was a pacrim writer, though.

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

1,407,660 as of today! i am, unfortunately for all of you, possessed of hands and the ability to string words together, and i'm making that everyone else's problem. i've written 136,786 of that this year, and i'm hoping i can hit 200k this year (last year i had an all-time high of over 300k+, which i'm very smug about; i don't think i can hit that again this year, though, because i'm busy as all hell). my total wordcount to works ratio has changed a lot in the years i've been on ao3—2019-2021, i wrote a lot of fics, but each of them was fairly short; now i write probably ~20-50 fics per year but each one is a minimum 2k, usually 5k+.

3. what fandoms do you write for?

at the moment: dmbj (sha hai focus), zmyx/swwht (mostly a show setting with novel elements), and tgcf.

4. top five fics by kudos

the kudos count for overall pisses me off so i'm giving my 2024 kudos data. we have not long to love: 327 kudos, m, 13k, nanqiu nie huaisang and the no good, very bad day: 241 kudos, t, 3k, gen god knows i can never get rid of habits: 227 kudos, e, 12k, nanqiu my dear, let me buy a red painted boat (and carry you away): 82 kudos, t, 5k, hualian hunger, bright: 81 kudos, m, 8k, nanqiu

5. do you respond to comments?

i try and respond to every comment i get! as an author, i want my readers to know just how much i value their comments, because getting comments really does make my day. usually i'll write some variation of "thanks for commenting, i'm glad you liked the fic!" and then maybe insert a reply to a specific thing they said in the middle, if applicable.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

recently? probably heartsmudged (dmbj ficlet, pingpangxie, pangzi pov)(also on tumblr here). technically there's nothing overtly angsty happening, but it's set during one of the most depressing times in canon for poor pangzi, and he's going through it.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

not sure what i'd call the "happiest" fic ending? most of my fics have happy endings, so it would be hard for me to choose one. i guess a single slip brings sorrow has the most dramatic shift from angst to joy at the end.

8. do you get hate on fics?

not on ao3 because people know how to behave (mostly) but i have gotten hate on ffnet, because ffnet is a cesspit of the worst types of commenters. i've had comment moderation enabled for years because i don't have any interest in allowing that shit to stay up.

9. do you write smut?

i mean, do i write smut for smut's sake on purpose? no. however apparently some of the characters i'm writing really, really want to have sex, and sex makes sense narratively, and so i've lately wound up writing smut. mostly minimally descriptive, though, because i'm more focused on the emotions.

10. craziest crossover?

probably my iasip/tma crossover, statement begins. (i have other crossovers that never got published, but i'm not counting them for the purposes of this post.)

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge. i do have a note up on my profile on ao3 and ffnet letting people know that if my work is found anywhere but on those two accounts or my tumblr then i didn't consent to its posting, though. i hope that if this ever happens someone would let me know.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

i've had someone ask before, but as of five years on, it's not happened yet.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have! not sure i would do it again, because it requires a lot of coordination, and i generally don't have the patience to wait on other people; my pace of writing is both unpredictable, hectic, and frenetic.

14. all time favorite ship?

an agony...........how can i choose.............ozma/dorothy.

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

technically not a fic per se but i started writing out a set of zhang sect precepts for sunrise based on the yan family precepts but i didn't get very far into it because trying to emulate the tone of the yan family precepts made me discover a deepseated hatred. this is what it's looked like for a couple months now and it's unlikely to ever be completed because the yan family precepts are stupidly long and i don't know if i could keep that up.

16. what are your writing strengths?

description! i've been told my writing style is very descriptive, and i can see that. i love writing things in detail and using sensory descriptions to make the scene feel more intimate. it's probably not to everyone's tastes but it's my writing and i do what i want.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

updating regularly. if i have a longfic the update rate is between me and universe and i'm not invited to the party. also action-heavy fics. there's a reason my plots tend to focus on emotions rather than action.

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?

if it's a language i don't know, probably just "[x] said in a language [y] didn't understand" or "[x] said in french" or something. that said because most of what i write is for cdramas/cnovels these days, and since i write everything from the perspective of "this is an english translation of a chinese original" i usually don't wind up writing anything that's not in english beyond a word or two here or there. if i were writing a fic for an english language novel/show and someone were speaking chinese or turkish (or maybe german) i would probably also just write it as "[x] said in [language]" because i find that foreign language text usually breaks my immersion.

19. first fandom you wrote in?

on ao3, warriors. in real life on paper, probably also warriors.

20. favorite fic you've written?

how am i meant to choose...........i love all my fics.....................anything from sunrise 'verse i guess.

[sam-loves-seb]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 🧡

this is so lovely and sweet <3

gonna stick with just rec'ing my gallavich fics for now bc tbh i do not have the time or the energy to go back through all of my fics rn, so here's my top 5 fav gallavich ones i've written:

a lot of road ahead of us -- the first ever gallavich fic i wrote which was a post-4x11 one shot that i started writing the second i finished season 4 because i couldn't get it out of my head

half-grown -- a canon divergent 5x01 fic where mickey goes with ian to the gallagher pool party at the end of the ep, there's really no plot just vibes but it's very cute and fun imo

headed straight for the floor -- a later seasons one shot where mickey finds frank drunk at a bar and feels a weird sense of responsibility for him now that he's technically related to the guy. i have no explanation for this one, the idea was just there in my head one day so i wrote it down and i like how it turned out

sweetest of the sunflowers -- mickey buys his husband flowers because it makes ian happy. that's it. that's the story.

when the sun goes down -- a lifeguard au that absolutely possessed me once i started writing it and then i blinked and had written 12k in one day so yeah idk i guess i like this one a lot, i think it's very fun and cute little read about the boys and the beach

are these the best fics i've written? maybe. idk. probably not. but they're my favorites that i've written (so far) and ones that i still go back and read sometimes when i'm in certain moods. if you like/read them, let me know what you think<3

[possessingtheproperspirit]

Fic Author Self Rec

Fic authors self-rec! ✨ When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers.

Thanks for tagging me, @kay-elle-cee <3 I found this very hard haha as self-reccing goes against everything I hold dear, but nonetheless here we are...

the way you left me || At nineteen, James vanishes, and Lily breaks.

I wrote this in a fevered rush, and I think it's the one I'm most proud of overall. Not entirely sure why, which doesn't lend itself to this sort of post, does it? It's sad and sweet and painful and all the things I like writing most. Angst with a happy, hopeful ending is my sweet spot.

2. Uninvited || With NEWTs looming, friends gather at the Potters' cottage in Wales to study and let off steam during the Easter holidays of their seventh year.

What's not to enjoy about pining, a Welsh beach and a 'there was only one bed' scenario? It includes this sentence, which I feel nicely encapsulates the gang:

They ate their fill; Mary tried to teach them a strange Muggle game called cricket, which James had a natural affinity for (“ever the fucking sportsman,” Marlene jeered from her position on the opposing team); Sirius tried to lead a team into the shallows, forgetting that the waters around the British Isles were frigid at the best of times; Remus built a bonfire in a bid to stop said team from developing frostbite.

I mean, what more can I say?

3. Forget-Me-Not (cw: sa). ||. At eighteen, Lily Evans fell - and fell hard - for James Potter, a classmate she had never given much thought to before. He seemed as into her as she was into him, so why is it, when she starts a new job almost a decade and a lot of water under that particular bridge later, that her new boss - James Potter himself - doesn't seem to remember her at all? A Don’t You Forget About Me by Mhairi Mcfarlane AU fic.

I wasn't going to include this one, but I guess I changed my mind? I'm proud that I a) finished this fic at all, and b) hopefully managed a very fine balance in dealing with an extremely sensitive subject. It was all a very personal writing experience and I guess I'm glad it all came out okay in the end.

4. A Lesson in Communication || There's a rule at his school that teachers are strictly not allowed to date the parents of pupils. James has never minded this rule before...

This largely started because it so amused me to think of James wrangling children at sports day. This is one of those stories that was supposed to be a quick thing, and then morphed into a nearly-12k monster whereby the misunderstandings piled up on top of each other like delicious pancakes. Yes, if anyone asked a straightforward question this fic would be about 500 words. Yes, my favourite bit is still Remus' reaction when he realises James' mistake.

5. The Price We Pay || As the summer before their sixth year comes to an end, Sirius, Remus, Lily and James consider how things may be different on their return to Hogwarts. When Sirius finally breaks free from his toxic home, it should be a fresh start - but unfortunately, it's the start of a spiral that will threaten the foundations of friendship, and change their lives irrevocably.

Last but not least! That blurb could do with updating, really, given that now – 27 chapters in – we're into seventh year and rather a lot has happened, haha. Still, when I started it, I didn't think I'd write more than maybe five or six chapters, and then it sort of grew its own little legs and scurried away from me. You know, how writing does? It's my original baby fic and I love it so but I also go through phases where I worry it's all utter bollocks, so it's very much a rollercoaster of a relationship. There is something both wonderful and challenging in writing a canon multi-chap, especially in this fandom where there are so many amazing canon multi-chaps. We battle on.

What a strange, therapy-esque post this ended up being 😅

Tagging (please feel free to ignore if you don't fancy it/have already done it) @wearingaberetinparis @mppmaraudergirl @clare-with-no-i @thequibblah @isahorcrux

[the-marron]

got sent this one today. of course you can ignore this, but i'm sending it anyway <33 - Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Awww, thank you, that's so nice! Hmm, picking five is hard, but I will do my best! I am as usual not counting fics I've written with Ascel because writing with her is on another level altogether 🥰

Having said that, let's see:

It's Not a Safe World For Kids - BatCat, DC Comics, 12k words

A bit of a character study, a bit of me trying to wraggle different, often contradictory canons into one story about Selina making a place for herself in the Batfamily one Robin at a time. I liked writing this and I do like how some part turned out.

In Dreams You Lose Your Heartaches - Puzzleshipping, YGO, ~93k words

A rather odd mix of cinderella motifs woven into the YGO lore. I took my time with secondary characters here and I could come up with different games and riddles the characters used to test each other. In hindsight politics could have been done better, and I am sure there are some rather awkward phrases here and there, plus this is a story that broke my poor little heart once upon a time, but it made it all the more dear to me, since I did finish it after all, and some dialogues there are brilliant, if I do say so myself.

So Many Chances Unseen - Grindeldore, Fantastic Beasts, 6k words

A crack about Dumbledore being a jealous, suspicious bitch that morphed into an actual canon divergence au with a happy ending. Yeah, don't ask me how that happened, but I am very fond of this story till this day.

Deceive me kindly (while I'm still here) - Weilan, Guardian, 13k words

Steampunk au with all the sads. I wrote it while deeply in love with Asian steampunk as a concept and Weilan fit the uneasy, changing world of magic and science all too well. Plus it's inspired by one of my favourite songs, so it's double pleasant whenever I re-read it.

It's falsehood's flame, it's a crying shame - Luolin, Weilan derivatives, 13k

historical mafia!au with LNS being a part of a gang instead of the Station - it doesn't make his relationship with LF any easier. I was torn between this and we devour, like a falcon in the dive (also Luolin) but a) I cannot choose my fav Luolin ok b) this was the first one I wrote so I am sentimental about it. But it wasn't an easy choice.

Thanks again for the ask, it was indeed very nice to recall all these stories!