#Tagging that so fans of that pairing can go ;;hmm wow;; and get a good chuckle out of some odd old fics

[jampc]

last summer whisper

pairing: platonic!jotaro × jolyne × okuyasu × josuke × tomoko × joseph

characters: joseph joestar, jotaro kujo, josuke higashikata, tomoko higashikata ,okuyasu nijimura.

words: 2,015

content warnings: none.

tags: fluff, sfw, family bonding.

rating: G

a/n: this might be my favorite scenario because I love josuke and okuyasu a lot and I think they would get along with jolyne a lot,I guess I'm just a fan of the three of them together :')

jotaro kujo and his daughter, jolyne, are in japan to visit some relatives. the girl has always been fascinated with her father's home country, and asked to visit it frequently. she loves seeing new places, so this is no exception. they're staying with jotaro's grandfather, joseph joestar, who lives in a traditional japanese house near the ocean.

"what's this place called?" jolyne asks, looking down at the sign.

"this is morioh-cho," says joseph. "it's a small seaside town."

"morioh-cho," repeats jolyne, tasting the word. "cool."

joseph laughs. "there's not much to see here, but you should go sight-seeing with your father sometime."

"where should we go?" asks jolyne.

"hmm." joseph taps his chin. "how about the old man's place?"

jotaro frowns. "i've told you to stop calling him that."

"sure thing, youngster."

jolyne giggles. "old man."

"ah, don't tease him," joseph says, but he's grinning too.

"come on, dad," jolyne says, tugging on jotaro's sleeve. "let's go!"

they get a taxi, and jolyne watches the scenery outside the car window. it's a sunny day, and the sky is a bright blue. jolyne wonders what kind of birds are flying around up there.

when the taxi stops in front of an small house, jolyne gets out and looks around.

“josepphh~fuuuu♡ kya ♡kya ♡kya~~~~!!!!”

tomoko higashikata screams at the top of her lungs, startling jolyne. she runs towards the taxi and wraps her arms around jotaro.

"d-dad..." jolyne mumbles.

“tomoko, why do you do this every time i come over, i’m not joseph. you know that, right? my name is jotaro kujo. say it. jotaro. jotaro kujo. not joseph joestar, okay? and stop screaming like that, it's embarrassing."

"oh my god, jotaro! i can't believe it's actually you! i mean, of course you're actually here, but you're in japan again!"

"i told you i was coming, and i even called you ahead of time."

“who’s this cutie? oh my gosh, she's adorable! you must be the famous jolyne!" tomoko picks up jolyne and gives her a big hug.

jolyne blinks. "uh, hi. i'm jolyne."

"you can call me auntie if you want to," says tomoko. "we're practically family after all!"

jotaro rolls his eyes. "she's my daughter, tomoko."

"awww, so cute!" tomoko coos.

jotaro grumbles something about 'the joys of fatherhood'.

jolyne feels a little embarrassed. she doesn't know what to do.

"come on inside," says tomoko, letting jolyne go. "i just finished making lunch."

the front door opens, and a boy walks out of the house. he has black hair, and his face looks familiar.

“oh, josuke!" tomoko says. "just in time!"

josuke freezes when he sees jolyne.

"um... hi," says jolyne. "i'm jolyne."

“i’m your great great grand uncle! and your dad is my nephew!! wow, that's wild!" josuke holds out his hand for a handshake. "nice to meet you."

jolyne looks at jotaro, who nods. she smiles and takes josuke's hand. "nice to meet you too."

"well, i'm starving," says tomoko. "let's eat."

the four of them sit down at the table. jolyne eats her rice with her hands, which makes josuke look surprised. she wonders if she did something wrong.

"it's so good!" jolyne says. "the rice is really fluffy!"

"i'm glad you like it," says tomoko.

jolyne glances at josuke, who's staring at her. "is something wrong?"

"no!" josuke says quickly. "nothing at all!"

after lunch, tomoko takes jolyne upstairs and shows her the guest room. it's got a big window, and jolyne can see the ocean outside. there's also a futon on the floor.

"you can use that," says tomoko. "i'll get your suitcase for you."

"thanks," says jolyne. she sits down on the futon and looks out the window. the view is nice. she wonders how long they're going to stay here.

when tomoko comes back with jolyne's suitcase, she tells her that she can go explore the town if she wants to with josuke.

“really?" jolyne asks. "thanks!"

josuke is waiting outside. he waves at jolyne and smiles. "you ready?"

jolyne nods and follows him outside.

"so, uh...do you want to meet some of my friends?” josuke asks as they walk down the street.

"sure," says jolyne. "who?"

"well, there's okuyasu, and then there's also..."

josuke goes on talking about his friends, but jolyne doesn't pay attention. she just nods and smiles when she needs to. she wants to be nice, but she's kind of bored. she looks around as they walk. there are a lot of people out today.

“okuyasu!" josuke yells, waving his hand in the air. "over here!"

a tall boy comes over and waves back. he walks towards them with long strides.

"hey josuke," says okuyasu. "who's this?"

"this is jolyne," josuke says. "my nephew's daughter."

"what?" okuyasu looks at jolyne. "wait... your nephew?"

"my great great grand nephew," says josuke. "his dad is my nephew, my nephew's dad is his nephew, and so on."

okuyasu looks confused.

josuke rolls his eyes. "never mind."

"josuke, man, you really need to learn how to talk properly." okuyasu turns to jolyne and smiles. "i'm okuyasu nijimura. nice to meet you."

jolyne smiles back. "nice to meet you too."

"do you wanna go to the arcade or something?" asks josuke.

"sure," says okuyasu. “jolyne get on my back you must be tired, huh?"

jolyne gets on okuyasu's back, and he carries her down the street.

"here we are," okuyasu says. he lets jolyne down on the sidewalk.

jolyne stares up at the building in front of her. it looks like a huge, red tower, and there are all sorts of things hanging on the side of it. there are also metal platforms sticking out from the sides, and lots of people are walking around them.

"whoa," jolyne says. "that's a long way up."

"yup," says okuyasu. "let's go inside."

inside the arcade, jolyne finds out that there's a bunch of different machines inside, all with different games. there's a screen and a joystick on them, but no buttons or buttons. she tries pressing the buttons on a few of them, but nothing happens.

"what's this game?" jolyne asks okuyasu.

"that's a fighting game," says okuyasu. "you can play against me if you want."

"really?" asks jolyne. "what does it involve?"

"i'll show you," says okuyasu. he chooses a character from the screen, and jolyne chooses another one. then the screen turns black, and a white figure with a big head appears on the screen. a sound effect plays, and then okuyasu starts tapping the joystick.

the white figure on the screen moves around, and okuyasu moves his joystick to match the movements. the white figure punches and kicks, and okuyasu blocks them. he jumps and kicks the white figure, who falls down. the screen flashes red, and the word 'ko' appears.

"you did it!" says okuyasu. "i lost!"

"how did you do that?" asks jolyne.

"i just move the stick like this, and then when i hit him i press the button."

"cool!" jolyne presses the buttons on the machine, and nothing happens.

"try doing it like this," says okuyasu, moving his hand across the joystick.

jolyne presses the buttons again, and this time she manages to do it. her character slams into the ground, and then a screen appears saying 'ko'.

"good job!" says okuyasu. "you're a natural at this."

"i wanna play against jolyne now, see if she can beat the master!" josuke says to okuyasu.

"bring it on," says okuyasu. he gets out of the seat. "go ahead, jolyne."

they fight and jolyne ends up taking josukes 1st place spot, much to josuke's dismay. they keep playing until the arcade closes.

"we should go home," says josuke. "my mom will be mad at us if we stay out too late."

they walk back home in silence. the sky is turning dark, and a few stars are coming out.

when they get home, tomoko is sitting on the couch reading a book. she looks up when they enter the house.

"how was it?" she asks. "did you have fun?"

"yeah, we played a bunch of games," says josuke. "i lost to jolyne though."

"wow, really?" says tomoko. "i'm surprised."

"dad, let me stay up for a little bit," says jolyne. "please?"

jotaro scowls. "no. you need to go to bed now."

"but dad-"

"jolyne." jotaro looks at her sternly. "bedtime."

jolyne pouts but doesn't argue any further. she goes to her room and sits on the futon. she's not really tired yet, and she wonders what she's going to do tomorrow. she guesses she could go swimming or something. she thinks about all the fun she had today, and wonders if she'll get to go out and play tomorrow too.

she lies down on the futon and closes her eyes. she can hear the waves crashing against the shore outside, and the sound lulls her to sleep.

when she wakes up in the morning, josuke is sitting next to her. he's smiling and holding a plate with cookies on it.

"oh, hey josuke," says jolyne, sitting up. "good morning."

"morning," says josuke. "i made cookies for you." he hands her the plate. "my mom baked them."

jolyne takes a cookie and bites into it. it's chocolate chip and soft and delicious. "thanks."

"we're going to go to the beach later," josuke says. "do you want to come?"

"yeah!" jolyne says. "definitely!"

"cool," says josuke.

later that day, jolyne follows josuke to the beach. it's a sunny day, and there are a lot of people there. jotaro is standing by the shore with okuyasu and joseph, watching the ocean.

jolyne walks over to them and joins them by the shore. the water is very clear, and she can see the rocks on the bottom of the sea. there are shells scattered around on the sand too, and she picks one up and shows it to her father.

"this is cool," says jolyne. "see?" she puts the shell in his hand. "you can see all the things that are under the water."

jotaro looks at the shell, then at jolyne. "yeah," he says quietly. he puts the shell back down on the sand, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a seashell of his own. it's small, but it has a pink glow to it. jotaro turns it around in his hand, and jolyne notices that the light seems to be coming from inside the shell.

"what's that?" she asks.

"it's a gift," says jotaro. "my father gave it to me after one of his tours."

jolyne holds out her hand for him to give it to her. he looks at her for a second, then places the shell in her hand.

jolyne smiles and looks down at the shell. it's warm to the touch, and it smells like the sea. jotaro closes it inside of her hand and covers it with his own hand.

"i hope you like it," he says softly.

jolyne grins at him. "i love it! thanks dad!" she puts the shell in her pocket, then runs back towards josuke and okuyasu. she sees them building sandcastles, and decides to help them out.

jotaro watches them build their sandcastles with amusement. he knows they're just playing, but he also knows that jolyne will enjoy herself all the same. he sits down next to joseph on the beach and sighs.

“something wrong?" joseph asks him.

jotaro shakes his head. "no." he looks over at jolyne, who is laughing as she plays in the sand with josuke and okuyasu. "she seems happy."

joseph grins at him. "of course she is." he pats jotaro on the back. "she's spending time with her family."

jotaro doesn't say anything in response, but joseph can see the smile on his face.

a few weeks later, jotaro returns to america and jolyne goes back home to florida. she keeps the seashell he gave her as a souvenir. it's become her most prized possession, and she likes looking at it whenever she feels sad or lonely. it reminds her of her dad, and she thinks about him whenever she touches it.

[xjoonchildx]

greedy | myg x reader | epilogue: bases loaded

summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now.  until you.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 1.3K

notes:  thank you endlessly for reading, reviewing and sharing this story. i’m so in love with this tough-but-secretly vulnerable yoongi and you’ll never know how happy it makes me that you guys love him, too. i hope you enjoy how the story ends. either way, i’d love to hear from you! please send me an ask here and tell me what you think.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

*******************

Fuck, it’s hot.

The forecaster called for a high of 91° today, but he must have missed that mark by at least a hundred degrees.  There is no breeze and absolutely no respite from the unforgiving sun here in the cheap seats.

The Lions batter connects with the ball -- finally -- and Yoongi winces as he watches it sail right over the foul line.

Beneath his sling his arm feels sticky, itchy. 

He’d love nothing more than to rip that sling off and go to town on his arm with his fingernails, but any moment now you’ll be back from the concession stand.  You’ll probably hold his hot dog hostage if you catch him.

So Yoongi tries to focus on the game, not the itch.  But the game sucks and Yoongi curses under his breath when the next Lions batter flies out on the first pitch.

Nine weeks ago, Yoongi never would have guessed that surgery would be the easy part. 

Going to sleep for a few hours and letting doctors cut into his skin and bone turned out to be a breeze compared to everything that’s come after.  The physical therapy has been grueling and painful.  Simple tasks like dressing and showering, even pouring a bowl of cereal have become a complete pain in the ass.  

He’s not sure he could have gotten through any of it were it not for you.

By now, he’s lost count of the ways you’ve taken care of him.  Lost count of the meals you’ve cooked for him, the loads of laundry you’ve done for him, the very, very creative ways you’ve come up with to make love to him.  He’s probably due for a new couch at this point. The damned thing started creaking last week.

So he’ll buy a new couch. 

He’ll buy a hundred new couches if it means you come home to him at night.

The days of arduous physical therapy are long forgotten when you shower and slip into bed beside him.  When you warm those forever-frigid feet against his under the covers and curl into his side.  When you wake up in the morning and make coffee and tell him wild stories about strange objects you’ve pulled from someone’s strange orifice the night before.

That’s how most nights go.  But not every night.

So it’s not enough.

It’s not enough because no matter how much Yoongi gets of you, it’s never enough.  He still wants more.

He walked to the drugstore before the drive to Daegu today.  He bought you a brand new toothbrush, one of those fancy electric ones with all the bells and whistles.  And he’s been waiting for the right time to tell you all afternoon, appreciating your pretty eyes and sunburnt cheeks.  

Waiting for the right time to tell you that he really wants you to stay.

***************************

“Wow, that line was brutal,” you mutter, and Yoongi looks up from beneath the rim of his snapback to find you balancing two hot dogs and a basket of fries in your hands.  You drop carefully into the seat beside him, grinning.  “I thought I was going to have to fight this kid for the last ketchup packets.”

Yoongi can’t help but grin back.  

The game sucks and the heat sucks and his arm sucks -- but you?  You definitely don’t suck. 

“Can’t get arrested for fighting kids at the concession stand, Doc,” he teases.  “The lockup here in Daegu is not exactly swanky and I can tell you that from experience.”

He reaches over with his one good arm to steal a french fry but you wrinkle your nose, pulling the basket away childishly.

“The hot dog is yours.  These are mine.”

“Wow,” Yoongi huffs.  “You’re gonna deny a one-armed man french fries?  That’s dirty.”

 “I’ve seen your bloodwork, Min,” you shrug.  “It’s time to back off the cholesterol.”

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head.

“So how’s it going?

“Bears are still up by five,” he sighs.  “Can’t believe I waited my whole life to watch them play this shitty in person.”

“Poor thing,” you tease, cutting your dark, sparkling eyes at him.  You begrudgingly hold a french fry out to him; a greasy consolation prize.  “Okay, fine.  I’ll give you one.”

Yoongi leans into you, pretending to go for the fry but stealing a kiss instead.  

“Sneaky,” you breathe, lips soft against his.  “But I’ll allow it.”

“Nothing to allow,” Yoongi smirks, grabbing the fry out of your hand.  “I already got it.”

You smile, turning away to look out onto the field.  

The stadium is nearly empty by now, most of the hometown fans leaving after the 7th inning when it was clear this game was headed straight into the toilet.  A Bears batter hits a line drive that whizzes right past the Lions shortstop’s glove and Yoongi claps a hand over his face.

“Swear to God, they haven’t had a season this bad since I was nine years old.”

You tut and hand him another fry.

“Namjoon offered me a job,” you announce, eyes still on the field.

Yoongi freezes, mid-bite.  

He knew this was coming, of course.  Namjoon had taken him aside one afternoon and spelled out his plan to extend the offer.  Yoongi knowing all too well that the Gajog has never been in need of a full-time doctor.  The offer is a gift, an extension of family protection.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know,” you grumble, rolling your eyes.  “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Okay, fine,” Yoongi grins.  “What did he say?”

“He said he’d set me up with a clinic space,” you murmur, watching another Bears lineman crack a base hit.  “Unlimited supplies.  Nurses, if I need them.  And he said he’d pay me more every year than I think I’ve made altogether since leaving medical school.”

“So are you gonna take it?” Yoongi asks carefully.

You’re quiet for a moment, dark eyes serious before turning to him.

“No.”

He knew that was coming, too.  

“I’ve worked really hard for this,” you say softly.  “And I want what I’ve earned the right way.  This isn’t judgement on you or them, but it’s not for me.  You understand, right?”

“Of course,” Yoongi says and he means it. You press your lips to his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder.

Secretly, he breathes a little sigh of relief.

He likes that you’re his piece of peace separate and apart from family business.  He likes that you’re his oasis away from the ugliness and bullshit that come far too often in this line of work.  He likes that you’re not some hand-me-down from a mothballed church widow or an act of charity from Kim Namjoon.  

He’s earned this thing with you all on his own.

“Doc,” he whispers, planting a kiss in your hair.  “I need to tell you something.”

“Go for it,” you whisper back.

“I bought you a new toothbrush.  It’s super fancy.”

You pull away from him, feigning shock.  “How fancy are we talking here?”

“Like, two hundred settings.  Video calls.  Takes bitcoin.”

“Ooh, that does sound fancy,” you breathe, smiling.  “What’s the occasion?”

Yoongi takes your hand into his, laces his fingers into yours.  

“I want you to move in with me,” he murmurs.  “If that’s what you want.”

You go quiet on him again.  Only this time, your mouth quirks into a soft smile before you lean in to press it to his.  You kiss him slow and unhurried, lips tasting like peanut oil and salt, and in that moment Yoongi decides it’s his favorite flavor of you.

“So is that a yes?” Yoongi asks, grinning when you pull away.

“Yeah.  That’s a yes.”

You both turn your heads when what’s left of the crowd starts to boo.  The Bears have just loaded the bases, top of the ninth inning, no outs. 

“This game is terrible and it’s blazing hot,” Yoongi groans.  “We should go somewhere to cool off.  And celebrate.”

“Hmm,” you sigh happily.  “What do you have in mind?”

“If you’re up for a walk, I know a place nearby,” he murmurs, planting a kiss behind your ear.  “Great milkshakes.”

You smile.  

***********************

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST 💕💕💕

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[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

🐰🎩NEW TRICKS🎩🐰

Prompt: Y/N decides to show Mr. Moxley some new tricks in order to certify him that he is still her number one

Word Count: Long

Pairings: Jon Moxley x Reader

Warnings: +18, oral sex (male receiving), angst, jealousy, cursing, praise kink

Tag: @jibbles26 , @bellalutionn

Notes: I’m a sucker for the power that blowjobs hold upon guys. Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories on my Masterlist and my newest story as a fixed post. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Hi doll, what you’re up to?” He smirks as he nibs my neck

“Just working. Why? Do you need something?” I ask as I remove my reading glasses

“I do, actually”

“What do you need babe?” I look up to his blue eyes that were filled with mischief

“You” He grinned

“Jon, I thought you needed something urgent” I chuckle

“I do!” He pulls me off my desk chair “I missed you so much” He cradled his face on the crook of my neck

“Jon, we’ve had sex six times yesterday and two times this morning, how can you physically still miss me?” I laugh “That’s like, 8 rounds in less than 24 hours babe! And you only got home yesterday”

“I can’t help it that you’re so fucking hot and looks so sexy all the time” He licks a trail from my neck to my lips

I look down to my current outfit that consisted in a comfortable pair of grey leggings, an oversized Korn t-shirt, Wilson’s crew socks, glasses, messy hair and no makeup

“I don’t think I look very sexy right now” I cackled

“Yes you do! You always do!” He pulls me closer to his crotch by my ass “C’mon Y/N, let’s do some fun nasty business, kitten” He slaps my ass quite vigorously

“Tempting, but I’ll have to decline it! Sorry big guy” I patted his chest

“Why?” He whined and stomped his feet like a little kid

“Because some of us got some serious work to do” I smiled fondly as I sit back in my desk chair

“But I wanna be with you! I need you and I want you now!” He pouted

“Jon, I promise you that once I finish this I’ll be all yours ok love?”

“No” He whines “Not later, right now!” He stomps his feet again

Yes, Jon Moxley can be quite the bad boy, but what a lot of people don’t know is that he’s also a fucking whining little baby! He gets an attitude over the dumbest reasons and sometimes this little scenario happens, where he thinks he can whine and pouts his way until he get what he wants. Sometimes it’s cute and charming to see such a big bearded man like him cause such a scene, but another times like right now it’s annoyingly frustrating, uncalled for and the last thing I need to get me even more stressed out.

“Jonathan, don’t start it! You’re not 4 years old! You’re a grown ass man in your 30’s, so behave as such” I turn to my computer and start to type my notes. After 10 minutes I can still feel his presence behind me, making me grow more nervous

“Jon, you’re not helping, my love” I said calmly

“I’m waiting. You said I would have you once you’re done so I’m waiting!” He bitterly said

“Won’t you rather wait in the couch instead? Meanwhile you can pick a movie for us to watch it later” I try to negotiate

“Meh, I’m perfect where I am right now, thanks for the concern” He huffed

*Oh great, what a fucking joy!* I thought

“This might take a while” I defeatedly said

“Don’t worry, I got time” Was his short answer

Fifteen minutes (and a stubborn Jon Moxley sitting on the floor) later I get a call from Peter, my coworker.

“Hey Peter what’s up?” I say holding my phone to my ear with my shoulder “What? Wait Peter, hold on I can’t hear you properly and I can’t stop typing”

“Well, put it on speaker then” Jon mumbled behind me and in my workaholic haze I did it as he told me, forgetting about one little small detail: Peter’s innocent (but also kind of annoying) flirting.

“Pete, can you repeat that again please?” I rapidly say while I type

“I asked when do you think you can send me the paperwork?” He chuckled

“Oh! Can you give me like....30 minutes?”

“I can give you whatever you want” He charmingly said

“Peter, shut up”

“What?” He cackled “It’s true you know, ask and you shall receive, my dear”

“I didn’t knew you were a Jesus fan” I mocked

“I’m your fan” I can hear the smile on his voice

“Whatever weirdo” I brush it off as I continue to type on the dashboard “Is that all you needed?”

“No, there’s one more thing that I forgot to ask you”

“Ok, shoot” I said

“When are you finally going to accept any of my nightcaps invitations?” Pure amusement filling up his voice

“Oh God send me to hell, fuck off Peter!” I jokingly said and hung up

I totally forgot the fact that Jon had heard that until his voice broke the silence

“So how long have you been seeing each other?” He rudely spats

“What? Seeing who?” I ask confused

He stood up from the floor, yanked me off the chair and trapped my body between his and the table.

“Your sweet boy Pete” he coldly smiles

I roll my eyes “Jon, are you really gonna take a guy like Peter seriously? He quotes Jesus to flirt! That’s nothing but pathetic and also slight disrespectful towards Jesus” I joke

“You think this is funny? What if you caught me flirting with a girl from work, how would that make you feel?”

“It depends if you’re gonna quote Jesus or not” I tease

“Y/N I’m fucking serious! Is this a joke to you? Our relationship is a joke to you? Am I a fucking joke to you?”

“My answer is no to all the above. Now if you ask me if I think that you’re overreacting then yes, I do”

“Overreacting? Really? What about all of the nightcaps invitations? Are you gonna tell me I’m overreacting about that too?” His voice starts to rise

“I don’t like your tone Jonathan” I angrily said

“And I don’t like you having an affair with your coworker!” He yelled

“Oh, so I’m having an affair now? Wow, I better accept those invitations then, if I’m going to hold the cheating girlfriend of the year award” I spat

“Are you having an affair with him?”

“How can you even ask that? You know me better than that Jonathan!” Now I’m yelling too, peachy just peachy!

“Well you didn’t answered my question though. Are you?”

“Of course not! What makes you think that?”

“You don’t wanna have sex with me, so where are you getting some? ‘Cause we both know you have quite the appetite for sex, I mean fuck, is hard even for me to keep up with you! You’re like a fucking machine!” He says

My eyes widened in disbelief “So just because I declined to have sex with you 30 minutes ago, because I have to work, I am suddenly a cheater? Or is it because I like to have sex more than the average women do that makes me a cheater? Wow Jonathan, I’ve never heard you say that when one of your male friends cheated. That says a lot”

“Says a lot about what?”

“Your sexist side. Or I don’t know, maybe it’s something else, maybe you are the one who’s cheating on me! So you’re mirroring your infidelity on me”

“Me? A sexist? Now that’s a joke” He laughs “We both know the things you’ve already done to me in the bedroom and trust me pumpkin, if I was a sexist I would never had let you go down that road, if you know what I mean” He measured me up and down “And even if I wanted to cheat on you, which is not the case, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t physically be able to since you knock my ass down every single time we fuck”

“I don’t hear you complain! In fact if I remember correctly you were the one who got in here wanting to have sex in the first place” I huff annoyed

“And I still do kitten” He gets closer

“Don’t touch me, jerk”

“You know how much it turns me on when you get all mad like that, right?” He tried to grab my breasts but I slapped his hands away

“Stop, Jonathan”

“What?” He leans closer, pressing his hardening bulge against my lower belly “Am I not good enough for you anymore? Do you prefer your boy Pete instead?”

“Bullshit” I spat

“Then show me, kitten” He whispers “Show me I’m still good enough for you” He makes me grab a handful of his erection “Show me that you still want me, that I still turn you on”

I pulled him down towards me by his neck, kissing him roughly, biting his lower lip quite harshly

“Hmm” He growls “My kitten is feisty, I like that” He smirks “I love when you’re a bitch to me” He laughs devilishly “Whatcha gonna do, huh?”

I forcefully open the button of his jeans, pulling the fly down and yanking the pants along with his boxer briefs down.

Jon put his hands up, in a surrender position. I lick my palm and close my fist around his cock, pumping it up and down.

“Yes baby” He moaned “Take it! Take what’s yours”

I kneel down and without thinking twice, I swallow his length until it reaches the back of my throat

“Fuuuuck! Y/N, baby...so good, you suck my dick so fucking good kitten! I love it, I fucking love it!” He moans and I push him further down my throat, swallowing around him

“Oh my fuck” He bucks his hips forward in surprise “How can you be so good at this?” He whispers, holding my hair back, so he can watch me sucking him off

“You look so fucking gorgeous sucking my cock baby. Fuck, look at that! Look at how well you take everything in”

I look up at him, hearing him continuing to praise me

“I love when you look at me...so beautiful with your mouth full of cock, so greedy for more aren’t you, baby?”

I nod, lifting his member up so I can lick the bottom half of his shaft, making him moan loudly

“You’re so insanely good at giving head! A fucking pro” He panted “The best head I’ve ever gotten”

I lock my lips around the head, sucking it hard to make him feel the pressure I know he loves, while my hands pump his length with a tight grip

“Oh yes, baby” Jon screamed in pleasure “Oh my fucking- Stop, stop” He moans with his eyes hazy in ecstasy, mouth in an ‘O’ shape as he bites his knuckles to prevent any screaming.

“We both know you don’t want me to stop” I smile, licking from the bottom of the head to his slit

“You’re gonna pay for this” His voice shakily says

“I wouldn’t threaten me if I were you baby” I smirked “I have other tricks that I’ve never showed you before” I whisper, feeling his length throbbing on my hand

“Other tricks?” He faintly whispered

I let go of his member and lay down on the floor beckoning to him.

“Come here Jon, let me show it to you baby”

Please let me know your thoughts on this? Feedback is always appreciated 🥰😘

[thatsaweirdwaytospellundead]

Cosmetic Syndrome 4/11

Summary: Izumi drops by Guy’s bar to have a drink when she meets someone from a cosmetics company who asks Mankai to perform at his company’s event. With the brilliant make up skills of Azami, the troupe prepares for their make-up themed performance....

This is a 10 part story with an epilogue.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10]

Epilogue “Surprise Present”

Guy  

.....

Azami  

.....

Taichi  

I see, so now we’re having a little make up exhibition!

Tsuzuru  

Well we are going to be wearing make up when we perform. It feels quite refreshing getting our make up fully done like this, with the eye shadow and eye liner.

Izumi  

Yeah, that’s true.

Citron  

Mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the prettiest of them all.. It’s me!

Tsuzuru  

Aren’t you supposed to be asking the mirror, not yourself?

Izumi  

The eye shadow looks good on you, Homare.

Homare  

Fufun, of course!

Tsumugi  

Yuki looks really cute too.

Yuki  

Thank you.

Taichi  

Banri is so pretty! So bewitching!

Banri  

Shaddup.

Azami  

Gosh, you guys are too noisy..

.. Alright, I’m done.

Guy  

..... Thank you.

Muku  

Wow..! Guy looks so lovely!

Azuma  

Fufu, that colour looks pretty good.

Izumi  

Mr. Nago was right, the colour really does suit him perfectly.

Guy  

Is that so..

Azami  

Everyone else seems to agree that it really suits you’re whole aesthetic.

Izumi  

That’s our Azami.

Tsumugi  

Everyone looks exquisite with their eye make up done so nicely.

Muku  

I’m sure anyone who makes eye contact with you guys will feel their heart racing!

Taichi  

Totally! When your eyes meet the audience, sparks will surely fly!

Azuma  

Of course. Hey Banri, give us a little eye contact over here.

Banri  

Eye contact? .. Huh, like this?

Muku  

Woooow!!

Taichi  

The fans won’t be able to get enough!

Citron  

Oh! I won’t lose! I will be sure to make lots of eye contracts!

Yuki  

Eye contact.

Tsuzuru  

Well since this performance is to promote eye shadow, I guess it only makes sense we should spend some time talking about make up.

However, I don’t really know that much about make up so do you think we could talk a little more about it so I can use it as reference in the script?

Guy  

Agreed. I am also not very knowledgeable in the subject of make up so I would like to learn more. I would like to accompany you during your research.

Azami  

Alright then.

Yuki  

After seeing the make up, I am starting to get a better idea of what type of costumes to make. I’m looking forward to designing these outfits.

Citron  

I am eggcited for the make up and costumes! I will make sure to prepare my skin properly!

Izumi  

(It seems like Tsuzuru is almost done writing the script and Azami has been thinking a lot about what he is going to do with our make up. Looks like the event preparations are going smoothly so far.

.. What’s this? Someone is on the balcony.)

Yuki 

......

Izumi  

Yuki?

Yuki  

You scared me, hello director.

Izumi  

I’m sorry for scaring you. Are you working on the costumes?

Yuki  

Yes, I am drawing out the designs.. What do you think about something like this?

Izumi  

Wow, so cute!

So the main colours are blue and white. Wow it matches the White Day theme perfectly, it looks super regal too!

I think these designs will go perfectly with the make up Azami has planned. I look forward to seeing the finished product at the performance.

Yuki  

Well I have a bit more work to do before I’m ready to pair these designs with Azami’s make up. However on our next day off I need to go out and buy materials.

Izumi  

I don’t have any plans for our next day off so could I tag along? It would be nice to take the car, right?

Yuki  

With you driving..?

Izumi  

You know i can drive, right?

Yuki  

Hmm, I guess I should be thankful you offered. Alright, let’s do it.

Izumi  

Okay, got it!

Tsuzuru  

Oh, Yuki, this is where you were.

Yuki  What is it?

Tsuzuru  

I just wanted to have a word with you about this event.

I was wondering if you would be able to make a rabbit plush as a prop for your character.

Yuki  

A rabbit plush?

Tsuzuru  

I was thinking it would be nice to have your character have a fancy prop of some sort. I think it would suit the theme park theme.

Izumi  

I see. Something to go along with the character’s personality, that sounds good.

Yuki  

I got it. I will think about it along with the costumes.

Tsuzuru  

Counting on you.

Izumi  

So then, guess we need to get materials for that too.

Yuki  

Yes.

To be continued.... Read part 5 here!

[btschooseafic]

Hey you, what’s your dream?

Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7

Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse

Summary: There’s no shortage of hard work as they get closer to their debut, with a album photo jacket shoot and a music video shoot.

Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts. [Masterlist]

Track 21: Hard work / Part 1 / Part 2

Music Video Shoot, No More Dream-May 18th 2013

The music video was going to be filmed in a studio in Gwanju. Aviva woke up extra early to make lunchboxes for the boys, before she had to drive them down.

Soonyoung wandered into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes.

She looked around at the lunchboxes and frowned.

“You do too much for those boys.”

Aviva shook her head. “I don’t think so. They work hard, so I just want to support them. And it makes me happy to do so, you know.”

“Well, I’m glad it makes you happy, but you need to take care of yourself too, you know.” She pointed at the lunchboxes. “There are only seven of those, did you even think about what you would be eating?” Aviva blinked slowly. Soonyoung sighed and waved her hand. “You go get dressed, I’ll throw something together for you.”

“I love you.” Aviva kissed her on the cheek as she left the room.

“Love you too!”

In the waiting room, Aviva fiddled with the settings on her camera.

“Hi, noona,” Jungkook said, sitting next to her. “Like my makeup?”

She glanced at him. “Yeah. You look cool. I like the eyeliner.” She looked back at her camera, frowning.

“Wow, is that a new camera?” He wondered. She nodded. “Looks fancy.”

“It was a gift from the company,” she told him quietly. “Chief Kyungso and the marketing team liked my idea about posting the behind the scenes footage and want me to do a whole series.”

He smiled. “Daebak!”

“I guess…”

He titled his head. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“It is, but I’m worried about getting enough footage,” she admitted.

“I can help you with that,” Jungkook said. “I’ve got a camera too!” He pulled his out of his bag. “Let’s go find something interesting to film.”

Jungkook approached Jimin. He got a close up shot of Jimin’s face.

Aviva switched her camera on, filming Jungkook filming Jimin.

“Filming like this… what are you planning to do?” Jimin asked him suspiciously.

“Zoom~ Zoom~ Zoom~” Jungkook sang, zooming in on Jimin’s face. Aviva laughed quietly. Jungkook turned his head and grinned and at her, still filming Jimin. “See? Now you’ve got two angles on Jiminie, that’s interesting enough, right?”

“Ah, my skin’s not really…” Jimin held his hand up to block Jungkook’s shot.

“Your skin looks great,” Aviva assured him. “The fans are gonna be jealous.”

Jimin giggled nervously.

Jungkook turned, getting a shot of himself in the mirror. Aviva ducked out of the way. Jimin popped his head up to block Jungkook’s shot.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked. “I’m filming here…” Jimin smirked playfully, stepping in the way again. “Ah…” Jimin kept blocking his shot as Jungkook kept trying. Finally Jungkook held the camera high over Jimin’s head. Jimin pouted.

“No fair!” He grumbled. Jungkook laughed. “Yah!” Jimin walked away.

“What are you up to?” Hoseok walked over to them in one of his music outfits.

“I’m helping Avi-noona with her behind the scenes footage!” Jungkook told him. Hoseok looked at her.

“Is he being helpful?”

Aviva made a noncommittal noise. “Yah!” Jungkook said.

Hoseok laughed.

“You have cheered me up, though,” Aviva told Jungkook. He smiled.

“How do I look, Avi Avi?” Hoseok asked her.

“Hmm…” She leaned her hand on her hip, studying him. “Pretty good.”

Hoseok pouted.“Only pretty good?”

“She told me I looked cool,” Jungkook bragged.

“Of course.” Hoseok tapped his camera lens. “That’s cause you’re her favorite.”

“I don’t have favorites,” Aviva said. “And don’t mess with his camera lens, it’s not polite.”

Hoseok sighed. “You don’t think I look cool?”

“It’s just not as… impactful as the other looks,” Aviva thought. “I think I like the spiked hair and the plain mask look the best.” He blinked at her.

“You memorized all my outfits?”

“To the best of my ability…” She grimaced. “Fashion eludes me. Joonho-ssi has a list of streetwear brand names for me to memorize.”

Hoseok laughed. “I have faith in your abilities, Avi-yah.”

“Anyway, I think all three of us are good-looking!” Jungkook said, gesturing at them. Hoseok nodded and grinned. Aviva pressed her lips together uncertainly.

“Don’t you argue with that,” Hoseok said, wagging his finger at her.

“Ah, can I get a video of you two together?” Aviva asked, holding up her camera.

Hoseok laughed. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you changing the subject, but, okay.”

“Let’s do it!” Jungkook switched off his camera. “What’s up?” Hoseok held up a peace sign and pouted at her. “We’ve come!”

“Yeah!” Hoseok wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

“Log duo!”

“Log duo.” Hoseok nodded, clapping him on the shoulder. They stared at her. “Is there anything you wanted us to do in particular?”

“Um…” Aviva bit her lip.

“What should we play with…?” Jungkook looked around.

“What should we do~” Hoseok singsonged.

“Let’s try and guess the answer~” Jungkook sang.

Aviva’s phone went off. “Ah, time for your close-up, Hobi!”

“Want to tag along?” He offered. She nodded.

“Is it okay?” Jin asked, gesturing down at himself. “Do I look cool?”

Aviva tilted her head.

“Not your best look,” she said honestly. Jin’s eyes widened. She waved her hands hurriedly. “Ah, but that’s just a personal preference—I’m sure there will be some people who prefer this look!”

“Oh?” He smirked a little. “What look do you prefer, then?”

“Hmmm… I think I liked the black top on you better,” she told him. “Shows off your arms better.” He blushed slightly, but nodded.

“I do have good shoulders.”

Namjoon walked up to them. “What are you two talking about?”

“Jin-oppa’s shoulders,” Aviva told him. Namjoon raised an eyebrow.

“And that was so important you needed to film it?” He pointed to Aviva’s camera.

“You were filming that?” Jin asked.

“…I’m still filming,” Aviva informed him. Namjoon laughed as Jin made an embarrassed noise. “I thought you noticed!” She bowed slightly. “Sorry, I’ll edit it.”

“Alright, alright.” Jin sighed. “What about you?” He looked at Namjoon. “You seem nervous.”

Namjoon blinked at him.“I do?”

“A bit,” Aviva agreed.

“I guess I have been wondering…” Namjoon pushed his sunglasses down over his face and looked at her. “We’ll be able to do well, right?”

Jin and Aviva exchanged a knowing look.

“Of course,” Jin said. “I’m too handsome for it not to go well!”

“…On a more serious note—” Aviva said.

“Yah!” Jin protested. “I am being serious!” Namjoon snorted.

“—However it’s received, you’re working hard, so you should feel proud of that,” she said, looking at both of them.

Namjoon squeezed her shoulder. “Thanks.”

During the lunch break, Aviva brought the lunchboxes into the waiting room.

“Yes!” Jungkook said.

Jimin looked almost tearful.

“Why are you so surprised?” Aviva asked him. “You’re the one who asked me to…”

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” He hugged her. “You’re the best manager ever!”

Aviva patted him on the back a bit. Hoseok gave her a thumb’s up.

“How come yours looks different?” Jin asked her as they ate.

“Oh, Soonie made this one for me,” she told him, smiling fondly down at the food.

“…Switch with me?” Jin asked, holding out his lunchbox.

“Yah, appreciate the effort manager-nim went to!” Namjoon said, kicking Jin’s foot.

“I do appreciate the effort,” Jin said. “Really, I do. I just…” He gazed longingly at Aviva’s lunchbox. She chewed for a moment and then held out a bite on her chopsticks. Jin blinked at her and then leaned over—Taehyung chomped it up before he had the chance. Everyone laughed.

Aviva watched nervously as Yoongi climbed over to sit on the hood of a school bus.

“Don’t worry manager-noona!” Jimin said. “I didn’t fall off, so I doubt he will!”

“I will if you keep yelling like that!” Yoongi shouted back at him.

“Quiet on set!” The director called out.

Aviva filmed Yoongi as he fooled around with the basketball.

He spun it over his arms. “Want to see it in reverse?” He asked her. She nodded. “Okay. So you keep at it, and then…” He flipped it over his shoulder, around his head onto his other arm.

“Ooh!” Hoseok said from behind them.

“Not bad!” Namjoon agreed. Yoongi grinned, bouncing the ball and then losing it. “Whoa whoa whoa whoa…” Hoseok snorted as Yoongi ran after the ball. “Not bad?”

“Not bad!” Hoseok teased.

“It’s not easy,” Yoongi said, coming back over to them. “But since it’s a leather ball, it’s quite lightweight and easy to spin too…” He spun it on his finger.

“Hyung, pass it!” Jungkook said from the side.

Yoongi bounced it to him.

“I played basketball back in the day,” Yoongi told Aviva.

“I know,” she told him, switching off the camera. He smiled.

“And you played soccer.”

“Eh, is that right?” Hoseok asked. “I want to play play soccer with you~”

“How come you didn’t come play with us when we filmed the graduation video?” Jungkook wondered, still bouncing the ball.

“I had meetings all day that day, remember?” She told him.

“Oh yeah…” Jungkook tossed it the ball at her. She trapped it against her chest (narrowly avoiding her camera hanging by her stomach) dropping it to her feet, and stepping on it.

“That doesn’t hurt?” Hoseok wondered. “With the…” He motioned at her chest.

“Yah!” Jungkook said, frowning at him. “Leave her alone.”

“I was just asking a question,” Hoseok said.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Aviva said. “You’re supposed to catch it here.” She tapped the top of her chest, just under her collarbone. “Not… lower…”

“Hmmm…” Hoseok stared at her.

“Hope,” Namjoon warned him.

Aviva kicked the ball, catching Hoseok between the legs.

“Ow, fuck, Avi, why’d you do that?” He said as the other three boys laughed and winced.

“What, did it hurt?” She asked, blinking innocently at him.

“This is a long day~” Jungkook thought, retrieving the ball.

Because they would be working very long days during the shoot, they would be sleeping at a hostel nearby.

Aviva drove them to the building and then went to her room with a few assistants. The other girls were drinking and gossiping, but Aviva fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

May 19th 2013

On the second day of shooting, Hoseok, Jungkook, and Aviva headed out a little early. Hoseok spent the morning with his family, while Jungkook and Aviva had offered to help with the set design.

By the time the others arrived on set, Jungkook and Aviva were putting the finishing touches on the graffiti they’d done.

“Avi-yah~” Jin whined, hugging her from behind. “I don’t know how you always drive these brats around. They never stop squabbling.”

Aviva shrugged. “You get used to it.” Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it. “Ah, they want you in hair and makeup.”

Aviva followed Yoongi as he got ready for his solo shot.

“Ah, I’m nervous.” He looked at her. “Do I look cool?”

She looked him over.

“You’re sweating a lot…” She handed him a packet of tissues. He held them to his face, pouting. “But you still look cool.”

He smiled. “Thanks.” He let out a breath. “Ah, it’s warm today.”

Aviva nodded. “Jiminie and Kook keep walking around with their shirts off.”

“They do that anyway,” Yoongi pointed out.

“Manager-noona~” Taehyung said as he approached them. “The director wanted to talk to you.” Her brow furrowed.

“I wonder what for?”

They followed her. It turned out, the director was asking her if she wanted to be one of the extras in the group scenes. Aviva thanked him and politely refused.

“You should have done it!” Taehyung whined. “Then we would’ve got to see you dressed up cutely! Did you see the girl in the leather shorts? You would look so cool…”

“It’s fine,” Aviva said. “I don’t have to look cool, that’s your job.”

Taehyung frowned. They looked up as the break was called to an end. “We have to do well for our fans…”

“You’ve got this,” Aviva told him.

“It’s not that hard!” Hoseok said after they finished filming the scene. But his laugh was a little breathless.

“Hope,” Joonho said, walking onto set. “It’s time to change masks.”

Hoseok groaned. “It’s hard to breath in that thing.”

Joonho grimaced. “Sorry.” He helped fit it onto Hoseok’s face.

“You look cool, hyung!” Jungkook assured him. “We can do it!”

“It’s so warm…” Hoseok muttered. Aviva reached over and carefully dabbed at Hoseok’s forehead with a tissue. He smiled. “Thanks, manager-nim~”

“Getting more behind the scenes footage?” Yoongi asked as he spotted Aviva walking around with her camera. She hummed in affirmation. “Hmmm. Watch this.” Yoongi started to dance to the music playing in the room. “Jin-hyung, Jungkookie!” Yoongi shouted at the nearest two members. “Get over here!”

“Okay!” Jungkook said excitedly.

“If I must…” Jin sighed, coming over. The three of them danced through one of their routines. Aviva couldn’t help but laughing, several of the stylists and makeup artists joining her. Kim Jihye, the young leader of the makeup team laughed the loudest.

“Aw, fuck,” Aviva muttered, frowning at the screen on her camera.

“Aviva-yah!” Jin said, putting his hand to his chest, looking appalled. “Such language!”

“Blame him.” Aviva pointed at Namjoon. “He taught me how to curse in Korean.”

Jin advanced on him.

“Now, hold on, hyung!” Namjoon said, speeding away as Jin went after him.

“I don’t know why he doesn’t let us curse,” Jungkook said, frowning.

“He lets me and the hyungs curse if we’re not around the rest of you,” Taehyung said.

“But, I’m older than you,” Aviva said.

Jimin frowned. “And I’m the same age as you!”

Taehyung shrugged. “You three…” He pointed at them and then Jungkook. “Have an air of innocence to you that really gets to him.”

Yoongi nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed. “It’s easy to want to baby you.” Aviva frowned. “Anyway, what’s wrong with the camera?”

“It’s stuck in night vision some how,” she said, showing it to him.

“Huh…” Jungkook turned it on himself, folding the screen back so he could look at the footage while he filmed. He made faces and wiggled his fingers. “That’s kind of fun.”

“Let me see.” Jimin took it from him. “I look like a vampire! I look cool!” He giggled. “Oh! Not bad…”

“My turn.” Taehyung took it. “Ah, you’re right, manager-noona, that is night view.” He quietly sang some of the lyrics to No More Dream as he is filmed himself. “Hyung, you want a try?” He held the camera out to Yoongi. Yoongi took it.

“I look like I have cat eyes…” He smirked. “Interesting…”

Aviva laughed. “Okay, maybe I can use this footage after all.”

May 20th 2013

Aviva was leaning on the car, drinking cheap coffee out of a paper cup when the boys walked up to her with suspicious smiles on their faces.

“…What’s up?” She asked them.

“Happy Coming of Age Day!” Jin said, pulling a small bouquet of roses out from behind his back and holding it out to her. She stared at it.

“We couldn’t afford twenty, but we each chipped in for one,” Namjoon told her.

“And Soonyoung-noona gave me this to give you from her mom,” Hoseok said, holding up a bottle of perfume. “Honestly, I’m still confused about whether we’re supposed to come of age this year, or next year, but…” He shrugged. “I guess we can always celebrate twice?”

“You two and Yoongi-hyung get this year, because of the new ordinance, and I get next year with those two,” Namjoon said, pointing at Jimin and Taehyung.

Aviva took the yellow crystal bottle from Hoseok.

“From Soonyoung’s mom?” She asked quietly.

“That’s what noona told me,” Hoseok said. Aviva wiped at her wet eyes with the back of her hand. Hoseok’s eyes widened. “You okay, Avi?” She nodded.

“I just didn’t expect her to…”

“I’ll drive again this morning,” Jin said. “You take the flowers and give me the car keys.”

She frowned. “But you complained so much about it yesterday!”

“Promise I won’t complain,” he said. “Just take the flowers.” She sighed and reached into her pocket, giving him the keys and taking the bouquet.

She sat in the back next to the window and Hoseok.

“What about you?” She asked him as Jin drove.

“My parents gave me presents yesterday!” Hoseok told her.

“Also, they’ve been fighting over who gets to give you a kiss all morning!” Jungkook told her. He laughed as other boys shot him various annoyed and embarrassed looks.

“Nobody gave me a kiss,” Yoongi muttered. Aviva glanced at him.

When they got out of the car at the studio, Aviva leaned up and kissed Yoongi on the cheek. He grinned widely.

“Oh, and…” Aviva took Hoseok’s hand and kissed him on the knuckles.

He gasped, resting his hand on his chest.

“My prince!”

Jungkook snickered. Jin nodded. “My charming apprentice.”

Namjoon sighed. “Save one for me next year, Avi…”

“Me too!” Taehyung said.

“And me!” Jimin added.

“And for you!” Hoseok nuzzled the side of her face and then gave her a kiss on her temple.

Towards the end of the day, they stood in the hallway, waiting for the next scene to be prepped.

“How’s everyone feeling?” Aviva asked, getting a shot of them standing side by side.

“I’m a bit sad, since it’s the last day of shooting,” Jimin said.

Jin attacked him with a hug.

Aviva’s phone buzzed. “Ah, makeup and hair check!”

Everyone started to disperse. Jihye ran over to Jimin with a small comb that she used to adjust his eyelashes. Aviva frowned, looking around.

“Where’s Kook?”

“What are you doing without me?” Jungkook asked, popping into frame and pouting.

“Just asking how everybody’s doing,” Aviva told him.

“And hugging people!” Jin said, hugging him from behind.

Jungkook winced.

“You okay, Kookie?” Aviva asked him.

“Pretty good, except for this headache.” Jungkook motioned at his head.

“Eh, you have a headache?” Jin said.

“Still missing Yoongi-oppa…” Aviva muttered, looking around.

“You called?” Yoongi walked over, looking curious as he wrapped his arm around Jin’s shoulders. Jungkook nodded, still wincing.

“Yeah, I have a headache.”

“I know the cure for a headache,” Jin bragged.

Jungkook looked at him. “What is it?”

“It becomes fine if you have pain in other places,” Jin explained.

“Seokjin-oppa…” Aviva said, sending him a warning look.

“Yap!” Hoseok said, coming up behind Jungkook and slapping him on the back.

“Hoseok!” Aviva scolded.

“Yap!” Jin punched him on the shoulder.

“Yap!” Yoongi did as well.

“Looks painful,” Hoseok said, grinning.

“Boys…” Aviva said, glaring at them. Hoseok laughed and ran.

“Sorry!” Jin whined.

“Say it to him, not me,” Aviva said, pointing at Jungkook.

“Sorry!” Jin repeated to Jungkook, before running off after Hobi.

“Don’t worry, noona,” Jungkook said, smiling at her. “I actually feel better now.” He went after them, bouncing the basketball he was holding.

“…You’re all so stupid,” Aviva muttered.

“Well…” Yoongi wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “You’re the one filming it all.”

She blinked. “Well… stupidity can be entertaining sometimes.”

He laughed.

“That was fun,” Jungkook thought as the day ended.

“Yeah~” Hoseok said. “Who says hard work can’t be fun?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung agreed. “Although it would’ve been even more fun if manager had agreed to be one of the extras…” He looked at her. She frowned.

“I told you, I’d rather be behind a camera than in front of it.”

“But I wanted to see you all dressed up!” Jimin said, pouting.

June 2nd 2013

“Okay,” Aviva said, sitting at her desk in the office as Tae hovered nervously behind her. “Here it goes.” She clicked post, and Tae’s profile photo and member announcement tweet went out. He cheered and squeezed her shoulders.

“I can’t believe it! I’m not a secret member anymore!”

“Congratulations!” She said, smiling at him.

“When are the others going to be posted?” Tae wondered.

“Hmmm… we have Jimin, Jin, and Jungkook tomorrow, and then Rap Monster, Suga, and J-Hope the day after,” she told him. “Oh, and the day after that, we’ll be posting the official tracklist!”

The day after the tracklist was posted to twitter, the first teaser trailer was released for the No More Dream music video. It featured footage of the boys scribbling over a chalkboard on the set, with a little monologue voice over in English by Rap Monster as he introduced them.

A few days later, the second teaser trailer, which was just edited clips from the music video, was released.

A large group of people gathered in a room at the offices to watch the music video together on the day it launched.

“I still think the helicopter is over dramatic,” Jin muttered.

“Are you really the person to be calling anything overdramatic?” Yoongi wondered. Jin pouted at him.

“The police showing up at all is a little…” Jimin made a face. “Unrealistic?”

“Is it?” Aviva wondered. “I’ve been to plenty of parties that were broken up by the police.” They stared at her. “In the US.”

“Okay, that makes a little more sense,” Hoseok said. “But you don’t even like parties.”

“Yeah, but Soonyoungie does,” she reminded him.

“Ah.” Hoseok nodded.

“Well, it’s still unrealistic that we would ever have such parties,” Jin thought. “I can’t imagine so many people ever showing up to see us...”

[final-girl96]

Hate That I Love

Wattpad. Google Doc Taglist

Daryl Dixon x Grimes!OC

Slow Burn Relastionship

Warnings: language, violence, abuse, sexual content, little bit of depression, anxiety

Chapter 40

I had woke up from a loud clap of thunder. I noticed I was laying on something and looked down. Nope, I was laying to someone. That someone being Daryl. The doors were rattling and I heard the growls of walkers.

"Daryl," I said shaking him.

"Hmm?" He hummed.

"Get up. There walkers at the doors. The storms blowing the doors open!" I said and stood up.

Daryl jumped up and we ran over to the doors. We put both hands on the doors and tried to keep them shut. Everyone else waking up and coming over to help.

After the storm settled and we didn't hear the walkers anymore we all went back to sleep.

Later in the morning Maggie and Sasha came back with a man. Said his name was Aaron and he was a community. He told Rick he had photos him his bag. Said he had been following us for days and thinks we would make great additions to the group.

Rick of not trusting anything he said had us go out where the vehicles were and check around to check that it wasn't an ambush. Once we saw he was telling the truth we argued about going to the community or not.

Rick didn't want to go. He didn't trust the man. But in the end, we did end up going. We met up with Eric who was Aaron's boyfriend. He had twisted his ankle running from walkers. We were in some old buildings.

We were waiting for Rick, Glenn, Michonne, and Aaron to come to meet us. I knelt in front of Eric and looked over his ankle. "It's just sprained. Just need to keep off of it for a while," I told him as I bandaged it up.

"Are you a nurse?" He asked.

"No. I'm a doctor," I told him. "Dr. Nikyla Grimes."

The next morning we headed towards the community called Alexandria. Pulling up to tall walls and a gate. We walked in and Aaron leads us to Deanna the leader's place.

The place was untouched. It looked completely normal like the world never ended. People were living like dead people were walking around eating people.

We stopped in front of the house and Aaron explained that Deanna would want to talk to us all separately. Rick had gone first. When he came out he told me it was my turn.

I walked into the house and a living area. "Please sit," I heard a woman say and looked over to see a woman sitting on the couch.

I sat in a chair in front of her. I hope you don't mind me filming this," she said and I shook my head.

"Please state your name," she said.

"Nikyla Grimes," I said.

"Do you relate to Rick?" She asked.

"He's my brother," I said.

"So, Nikyla, what did you do before all this?"

"I was in medical school. I was in my residency," I said.

"Wow. You're so young and you were a resident already?" She said

"I graduated high school when I was 16. Skipped three grades," I said.

"Wow, so your the doctor for the group?"

"Yes,"

"Were you in a particular field?" She asked.

No, I was kinda just helping in the emergency department," I said.

"Well, we do have a doctor here. He's a surgeon. Maybe you can work with him in the infirmary," she said.

Yeah, I guess. I can go now?" I asked.

"Of course. Could you send Daryl in please," she said and I walked out of the house and down the steps.

'Daryl, you're up," I told him.

After everyone did we were lead to two big houses. We check them both put but decided to all stay in the biggest one together still not trusting this place. I walked upstairs and into a bedroom. There was a large queen-sized bed and a walk-in closet that had clothes in it. I went through the clothes.

I found a pair of jeans and a tank that looked like would fit me and I head into the bathroom attached to the bedroom.

I turned the shower on expected only cold water but I figure I check. Once the water started heating my mood changed from crappy to happy.

I stepped into the shower and let the hot water wash over me and wash all the dirt, blood, and grime off of my body and out of my hair. After I was finished washing I got out and wrapped the fluffy towel around me. I stood at the sink and brushed my teeth and my hair before getting dressed and walking outside.

Daryl was sitting on the porch with the opossum he killed. He was gutting it. "You gotta do that now?" I asked.

He turned and looked at me "pfft," he huffed.

"What?" I asked.

"So what, your trust this place?" He said.

"Daryl, I wanted to be clean. Just because I got a shower does not mean I trust this place. But we need to give it a chance. It's better than being out there," I told him.

Later that night we all gathered pillows and blankets and slept in the living room. Deanna came over to see how we were settling in. She wanted Rick and Michonne to be constables. She hasn't figured out what job would be good for Daryl yet. She walked over to me and stood in front of me.

"Nikyla I wanted to give you these," she said handing me a white lab coat and stethoscope.

"Thanks I have my stethoscope though so I won't need that," I said taking the coat.

The next more I got dressed and put the lab coat on and grabbed my stethoscope. And went outside to head to the infirmary. I saw Daryl on the porch cleaning his crossbow. "I hose you down!" I heard Carol yell as she walked down the street.

"You look ridiculous!" He yelled back.

"You ever going to shower?" I asked him.

He looked up and scuffed. "What now?" I asked.

"Now that you're back to being in the white coat you think you're better than the rest of us?" He said.

"Excuse me? What the hell is up your ass? I did nothing to you. And I sure the hell don't think I'm better than anyone!" I yelled.

"Whatever," he said.

I scuffed and walked down the steps "Yeah, whatever is right, Dixon. Take a fucking shower!" I yelled and walked towards the infirmary.

Authors Note: If anything in the warning bothers you please do not read. I do not own The Walking Dead or it characters. I only own my characters that I make up. Something's may be out of order I'm going to try and follow the time line but It might change a little with the new character added. It starts in season 1 I like to start from the beginning. Please like, reblog, and comment if you like the story it really helps me get motivated to continue and helps me know what you'd like to see. And please if you like to read this as you feel free to do so. I understand some people my rather read as themselves I know I do sometimes. Thanking you for reading! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Taglist: If you'd like to be (un) tagged please let me know on the comments and click on the link to my Google Doc and you can add or unadd your name.

@fanfictionsilove @phoenixblack89

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[queenofthelanternfish]

Disclaimer: Tumblr sucks, but this chapter doesn’t. Honestly my favorite chapter so far, no joke. I will be the one posting my gf @anesther’s fics in order to have them in the tags, so hopefully you all can read and enjoy as well!

-

AN: Gonna have my girlfriend upload my stuff now and then because tumblr really, really hates giving my posts a chance in the tags. It took me all day, with wrist pain and being busy, but I got it up dang it.

Title: Interfaces

Characters: Entrapta, Hordak, features Glimmer and Adora

Pairing: Entrapdak

Rating: T (for some sensuality)

Read on AO3 for the love of god.

                                                          Spa Day

“Welcome to Mystacore!” Glimmer says, arm stretching out in a grand sweeping motion. “Well, Mystacore Number Two. We haven’t thought of a name yet.”

Hordak stares at the pink and purple valances strewn around the building, hedges and trees neatly trimmed. The first thing he thinks is that the place smells sickeningly sweet, almost cloying. The paradise remained primarily in the clouds, though a small group of people had decided to head earthbound to create a sector that was adjacent to Bright Moon. Glimmer, being the niece of Castaspella, had been more than excited to overlook the project. And even more excited to bring people who had yet to experience the beauty and zen of Mystacorian performance.

“We finally got the renovations complete for the soaking tubs,” Glimmer continues. “It took a while to find underground hot springs, but we managed to get it together. There is also a new area we’re trying out where we give out massages.”

Entrapta looks around, curious. She approaches a smooth marble column, sliding her hand down its surface, “How long has this been going on?”

“Once Horde Prime was defeated, I wanted to bring calm to Etheria, and nothing says peace like Mystacore! My dad also wanted to spend more time in Mystacore and Bright Moon, so we compromised by bringing him a little piece of home from each place.”

“Wow, you’ve really outdone yourself, Glimmer,” Adora states.

“Thank you, but it wasn’t just me. My aunt helped a lot to put it together— Where’s Entrapta?”

Adora and she look at Hordak, who keeps his usual frown.

“She always does that,” Adora sighs.

“Okay, should we look for her?” Glimmer asks.

“She will arrive when she likes,” Hordak says, walking forward, leaving them behind.

“Right, of course,” Glimmer agrees, transporting next to him. “I can lead you to one of our relaxation facilities.”

Adora shouts, “I’m going to head to a different room!”

Glimmer waves goodbye, keeping pace with Hordak.

Hordak doesn’t protest as she points out the various needs that can be taken care of. The defeat of Horde Prime led to an odd but solid relationship with Queen Glimmer. In the years since, there hasn’t been a single battle between his kind and the Etherians, who have adopted the former in a truce that is proving to be positive. With Horde Prime’s technology, and the reemergence of Etheria to the rest of the universe, there have been advancements toward space travel and forming alliances with neighboring planets. His brothers have taken quite well to Etherian life, and he had noted several of them waiting in the foyer, and even aided in the construction of Mystacore Number Two.

She really should name it better.

“Here we are,” Glimmer announces. Opening polished double doors, she reveals several massage tables, freshly changed with clean linen. The room is artificially lit, with large sources of it coming from a tall ceiling. “This is the aromatherapy room, if you’d like to begin here.”

Hordak scans the area, hesitating.

“Not a big fan of smells?”

“It’s not that, there’s merely a lot of them.”

Glimmer gestures toward a table, “Would you like to give it a try?”

“...I’m not sure…”

“Well, that’s okay!” Glimmer tells him. “We have plenty of other rooms for you to try out.”

Hordak is led through another set of doors. This hallway shines soft lavender with hibiscus accents. He doesn’t even step into the room before his nose wrinkles in disgust.

Glimmer takes one look and opts to head down to the left, “Why don’t we go this way?”

“What was in that room?”

“Our manicure and pedicure salon. I thought maybe that would be good, considering how long your claws can get.”

“I take care of that myself.”

“Oh, well, I guess that makes sense, since they look really, um… sharp?”

Hordak looks at his hands, “They don’t grow longer than this.”

“I see. Well, manicures are out!” Glimmer looks up at him, “Would you like to see our electrolysis treatment?”

Hordak raises a brow at her.

“Heh, right, stupid question. Let’s keep going, shall we?”

                                                              -

“Entrapta? Where’d you go?” Adora asks. There has got to be an easier way to keep track of someone who isn’t even five feet tall, has hair that extends 20 feet when she likes, and is brightly colored purple. “Are you in the vents? I don’t even know how that could be—there aren’t any.”

Adora walks along the pilasters, letting her mind wander as she searches. It’s been a good while since Horde Prime was beaten. While everyone seems to have moved on, she can’t help but be a little wary when Hordak makes his presence known. She doesn’t hate him, but she, as Bow had eloquently put it once, ‘has major trust issues.’

She doesn’t think he will go against them, and the rest of his kind have settled into Etherian life very well. Their acclimation has been nothing short of surprising.

Maybe she needs to look at it as the simple fact that there isn’t anything to worry about. That there isn’t a reason for her to access She-Ra.

She can be Adora.

“What are you doing?”

“Agh!” she yelps, jumping away.

Entrapta lowers herself from the ceiling, “You started spacing out.”

“What? I was looking for you.”

“You were, but then you were just standing here for a few minutes. Did you find something interesting on the floor?” Entrapta asks, pushing her aside to look at the spot. “Hmm, doesn’t seem to have anything.”

“There isn’t anything on the floor. I was just looking for you.”

“That’s nice of you! Would you happen to know how they manage to get the pipes threaded into the walls? I’ve been trying to find a way to note how this place is structured, but I haven’t found an entrance.”

“I’m not sure where that would be either,” Adora replies.

“That’s okay! I’m sure I can find one—or make one without compromising the integrity of the building.”

“Entrapta, can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“How has Hordak been taking to Etherian life?”

“Oh, he’s been great! He’s had a lot more free time with me to work on all kinds of new inventions! He’s been putting together this new kind of robot with me, but I can’t tell you too much about it!” Entrapta shifts close, whispering. “It’s a secret!”

“What kind of robot?” Adora asks, anxiety forming.

“Can’t tell you! Hordak and I are going to be working on it a while longer, and it’s going to be so cool!”

Before Adora can say anything, Entrapta looks up at the ceiling, “Oh, I think that might be a good spot to try for an opening.”

In one movement, she ascends, leaving Adora confused.

What kind of robot?

It’s probably not anything.

Adora sighs, wondering if she’s being paranoid. That’s not something she’s been able to fully shake off. Maybe she should find Glimmer. She’s bound to be done with Hordak by now.

                                                                 -

Hordak has never been more stressed in his entire life.

“You have to relax.”

“I… I don’t think I can,” Hordak says, trying not to shake.

“I promise if you relax, you won’t be feeling, uh, whatever it is you’re feeling.”

“Is this supposed to be how it works?”

“Yes, acupuncture is supposed to be like this. Although, it would help if you relax.”

“I don’t believe telling me to relax over and over is going to make that happen,” Hordak hisses. With an irritated grunt, he stands up from the lounging chair. He turns to the acupuncturist, “Get these off me at once!”

Glimmer groans, “Hordak, I promise if you just let things be, you wouldn’t be upset!”

She has been trying all day to be a good host. This was supposed to be a calm afternoon, but he seems so resistant. Absolutely stubborn! She had an easier time with Adora, and she had been going a little nuts. But Hordak has a determination to be as unreasonable as possible when it comes to treatment.

Frowning, she walks up to him, “We went to a lot of places already—the deep tissue massage, hot stone massage, facials, scrubs. You just don’t seem to care for anything.”

Hordak opens his jaw, moving it up and down, side to side. Patting his cheeks, he looks at her, “Well, you’ve had me go around everywhere, and there is simply nothing I want.”

“There’s always a place people can go to let their hair down. Ooh, do you want a hair wash?”

“No, again, I do that myself,” Hordak says.

Glimmer shakes her head, “Of course. You do everything yourself.”

He suddenly lets out a sharp hiss, pain shooting up his arm.

She looks at his fingers, the rest covered by a robe, “Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing. Just a nerve…” Hordak holds up a hand. “Don’t try to throw me in the wayward arms of a masseuse. I would simply like to rest.”

Glimmer’s brows furrow in thought. Perhaps she has been looking at this all wrong. There were so many new additions to Mystacore’s already impressive spa treatments, that she had been excited to unveil them all to Hordak and Entrapta—even if the latter has been gone this entire time—that she didn’t stop to consider that she might have been pushing him into something he doesn’t care for. Over the past few years, she learned he’s someone who doesn’t need or desire a lot, especially if they’re material possessions or experiences. “You know, I have one last room for you, and I think this one will click.”

Hordak sighs deeply, more exhausted than when he arrived. He nods, “Very well. Lead the way.”

Hopeful about this one, Glimmer allows him to pass through a singular door. The hallway gleams silver and blue, the temperature a little cooler by a few degrees. Hordak smells nothing out of the ordinary. His ears twitch at the sound of running water, and he catches the scent of it before coming to a room full of steam.

Hordak looks around the vicinity, the fog obscuring his vision to a good enough amount to ensure privacy, even if wearing clothes designed for soaking were available.

Glimmer smiles at him, “Here is the sauna-including-soaking-tubs! I wasn’t sure whether to bring you here because it doesn’t seem like something you’d be into. And people are usually around, but I think this could work.”

He dips his hand into nearby water, clear where the water doesn’t froth from the small waterfall; the heat radiates from his fingers upward.

“This will do,” Hordak says.

“Yes!” Glimmer shouts, enthused.

He looks at her, smirking, “It only took you all day to find something suitable.”

“Well, you’re one tough customer. But I think you’ll enjoy it here. And no one’s around. I’ll grab you something to change into.”

Soon, Hordak is dressed in breathable clothes, and Glimmer takes her leave.

Slipping into the hot water, Hordak allows a contented sigh to leave his lips. He sinks down into the water until its surface touches his chin. The sensation is akin to pleasure. The liquid moves about his muscles, steam shifting in front of his eyes when he breathes. His head tips forward, circulation steadily increasing. The numbness in his arm begins to recede, heat blissfully wrapping around his limbs.

Hordak submerges completely under the water, eyes closing lightly. There is no air, yet he can breathe. There is no sound, yet there is thrumming in his ears. The warmth permeates through, and a stirring reminiscent of serenity blooms in his chest, in his mind. He curls in on himself, the closest to childhood quiet he will understand.

Emerging from the water, droplets moving down his frame, Hordak���s shoulders droop, a lazy smile on his face. Relaxed.

“Hi!” Entrapta says, coming down.

“Hello,” Hordak replies, easing further. Wearing similar attire, she glides into the water, swimming up to him. She allows her hair to be loose, free from its pigtails, its natural weight drags it down to the bottom, fanning out under the water. Swimming up to his side, she places her arms on his shoulder. “Did you have fun exploring?”

“I did! I was following you every now and then, it wasn’t hard to do that, but I did try to find an opening into the building to look through its pipes, wires, pumps. It was all very interesting!”

“Did you succeed?”

“No! I had to make an opening myself. It’s very discreet, they’ll never knooow,” Entrapta says in a hushed tone.

“I know. You’re very good at being sneaky,” Hordak says, smiling at her.

“Adora was talking to me about you,” Entrapta tells him, leaning upon his shoulder.

“Oh? Why is that?” Hordak asks, resting against the stone. “I think she believes you’re not to be trusted still,” Entrapta informs. Pushing up on him, she brushes a dark blue tendril from his forehead. “I would’ve explained it to her, but I didn’t find it necessary.”

“A wise choice. It cannot be helped. Adora has no reason to extend any sort of olive branch in my direction, even if it has been a couple of years.”

Entrapta flicks some water with her fingers, “She will eventually come around.”

“That’s up to her. And even then, I don’t need to be accepted by everyone during the remainder of my time here.”

“Glimmer is pretty sweet to you!”

“Yes, she is,” Hordak says. He formed an odd kinship with her after the Rebellion regained control of Etheria. “She treats me well.”

“Hey! Look!” Entrapta shouts. Sinking down til her mouth is under, she blows air with her mouth, bubbles rising and popping at the top.

Hordak lowers himself to the water at the same level. And blows bubbles in turn.

Entrapta laughs in manic glee, splashing him as she claps her hands. Hordak shoves water in her direction, making her chortle harder. She squeals when he breaks into a wide, red grin, chasing her around the tub’s perimeter. Grabbing her, Entrapta flops against him, “Oh no, you caught me!”

He nips her ear, breathing onto it, “I did indeed.” He trails his mouth down her neck, making her gasp. Pressing it gently along her throat, he feels her body arch into him. Her arms wrap around his shoulders, moaning into him.

He withdraws, lightly kissing her cheek, “You have to wait.”

“Ooh, you’re such a tease!” Entrapta says, clinging to him. “You’re going to make me wait until we’re back at the lair.”

“Of course. I highly doubt we want anyone rushing in here when I make you scream.”

Entrapta laughs, looking up at him, “But think of the thrill of being caught!”

“Maybe next time. When we go to Glimmer’s castle.”

Their cackles ring around them, echoing above the water.

                                                              -

Glimmer shudders.

Adora looks at her, “What is it?”

“I don’t know. Got a weird feeling outta nowhere.”

“Probably nothing,” Adora says, continuing to eat her meal.

“Yeah, likely nothing.”

                                                              -

Entrapta looks at Glimmer, “Thank you for having us!”

Glimmer nods at the couple, “No problem! Thank you for choosing Mystacore Number Two for all your spa needs!”

“You really should change the name,” Entrapta says.

“And perhaps hire a concierge,” Hordak adds.

“We had one. But we had to fire them for taking up too much time relaxing instead of working.”

“Who was it?”

“Double Trouble.”

“Ah,” Entrapta and Hordak say simultaneously.

“Well, thanks for having us!” Entrapta says.

“Entrapta, hang on,” Adora walks over. “Can we talk over there, for a minute?”

“Sure,” She agrees.

Heading off a few feet, Adora begins, “I wanted to ask how you were doing, but you left really quickly.”

“I’m doing wonderful! Everything has been going smoothly at the lair.”

“What was the robot you mentioned?”

Entrapta waves a hand, “Silly, I told you I can’t talk about it just yet.”

“Not even a hint?” Adora pleads.

Entrapta gives her a gracious smile, patting her head with a lock of purple, “If it makes you feel better, it’s nothing you need to be worried about.”

“I’m not worried.”

“You’re quite a paranoid person, you know that?”

“I’m not that paranoid.”

Entrapta grins at her, “It’s not a bad thing, Adora! When we’re done, I’ll have you look at it!”

Adora sighs. She smiles back, “Alright. I’ll wait until then.”

Glimmer watches them interact for a moment before turning to Hordak, “Did you enjoy your soak?”

“I did,” Hordak answers. He clears his throat. “Thank you.”

“Sure! It’s what spa people do.”

“No, I mean, thank you… for taking the time to help me…”

Glimmer, touched, smiles at him, “Aww, you’re welcome. I’m glad you had fun!”

“Yes, I did enjoy myself,” Hordak admits.

Grinning at this accomplishment, she finds Adora walking back toward her, and Entrapta to Hordak. Bidding goodbyes, she waves at them as they leave.

“Hordak’s changed a lot, huh?” Glimmer says, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, I guess he has.”

Glimmer looks at Adora, “He actually thanked me for a good time! I feel like I can take on any customer!”

“You know you’re a queen, not a spa-day-host-person, right?” Adora asks, smirking at her.

“I can be both,” she declares, before heading inside.

Adora nods. Maybe she does need to be more considerate about the changes people have made. She had forgiven Catra, and there had been much more bad blood between them. If her friends say that Hordak is alright, then she’ll trust them instead of her doubts.

Maybe a soak will alleviate her head from all this thinking.

[jaehyun-eclipsed]

Before I Met You | Thirteen

Updates: Sundays

Pairing: NCT (Jaehyun, Lucas, Mark, Jaemin, Johnny) X Reader/OC

Genre: Romance, Angst, Coming of Age

Summary: Four. There were four people before I fell in love with you… Here are their stories.

Warnings: Some swearing and mentions of mature content

Before I Met You Masterlist

Prev | Next

Choi Jisu.

Interestingly, I don’t actually know Jisu personally. I only know of her. She’s a year older than me and I only recognize her because she was dating an upperclassman from my high school when he became a student here. She was always tagging him in their photos together.

I scoff. No wonder I hadn’t been seeing those lately. She has a new man. I sigh. Small world.

I select her profile and begin clicking through her viewable photos. Jisu is an avid photo taker – and not the artistic kind. She’s the kind that clearly demonstrates the need to post about everything she does for social, and ultimately, external validation – as illustrated by her endless number of publicly available photo albums, allowing me to quickly discover that she participates in beauty pageants… and wins.

And as I juggle all that information, it starts to make sense. She’s used to being the center of attention. In fact, she likes being the center of attention and being treated like she’s important, hence her behavior regarding Jaemin opening the door for her. She has “high maintenance” written all over her.

As I continue browsing through her photos, I notice that all of the pictures she had with the guy from my high school are gone. Jisu clearly likes publicizing all of her relationships while she’s in them… and then quickly deleting any evidence of them as soon as they’re over as if they never even happened.

Wouldn’t that bother her? Having all 700 of her Facebook friends be able to pinpoint when she started a new relationship and with whom. One boyfriend after another – someone who clearly has difficulties being alone. It’s common for a lot of people, but why would you want everyone to know?

Her second most recent album that’s titled “Third Year – Summer” is where I find the photos of relevance – the photos showcasing her new and blooming romance with Jaemin. Most of them are pretty standard: dinner outings and various dates to the park and ice cream parlor.

My nostrils flare as I glare at the screen. That scumbag. Blatantly flirting with me when he has a girlfriend that he has conveniently left out of every conversation we’ve ever had!

I don’t know what to do with this information.

Wow, Jaemin! You probably thought you were so slick – and I’ll admit, you had me there for a second! But you made the mistake of bringing her home and coincidentally, I happen to know her. That last bit isn’t your fault, but really, what are the chances in a school with thousands of people?

I am not okay with this! We’ve already had an experience of a guy with a girlfriend flirting with me and it didn’t end well!

Am I just supposed to back off? But I didn’t do anything. I’m not even supposed to know anything!

I huff in irritation. I genuinely need help in physics and Jaemin has been quite helpful the last couple times I asked him. I conclude that I have two options: continue what I’ve been doing and act like I know nothing or find a new physics tutor.

The first option is purely convenient since he lives right down the hall and I know he can help, but it tests my moral conscience. The second option is more work on my part because I’d have to go through the tedious task of finding a new person and determining whether or not they’re any good.

But then I ask myself another question: am I actually doing anything wrong? I’m not the one who’s flirting. I can’t control how he acts around me. I’m not even supposed to know about this… but my conscience reminds me that I unfortunately do know about this.

Goddamn. Why’d I have to be home at this time?

Screw my conscience, I need help. My grade is more important and the flirting is kind of flattering.

And that’s the thing about the supposed “ignorance is bliss”: it can be taken away from you at any time, without your consent.

Hydroxyl groups are alcohols including methanol, ethanol, etc. They are polar and can form hydrogen bonds. Have the ability to assist in dissolving compounds such as sugars.

A carbonyl group is a carbon atom connected to an oxygen atom via a double bond.

I roll my eyes and chuck my highlighter to the side, sighing in annoyance as I look around the empty dining room. I’m so lame. It’s Friday night and I’m sitting at home studying.

Despite having adjusted a bit better at the beginning of my second year, I still haven’t made many friends that I can hang out with. The “friends” I have are mostly acquaintances – classmates that I could contact if I ever need anything for class. That’s why I was quite thrilled that Jaemin seemed pretty cool and that he actually liked spending time with me. But I’m not sure how I feel about this new revelation. Based on the superficial facts, I have qualms to pick with his moral compass.

So I started contemplating other housemates I was interested in getting to know – people I could come home to and hang out with in the common rooms. Jaemin’s other roommate – Jeno – seemed worth speaking to. Renjun is polite, but he’s built a nearly impenetrable wall to his friendship. Perhaps he’s just more comfortable with guys.

I turn my head when Jeno walks into the dining room. We make eye contact for several seconds before he turns away and continues into the kitchen. That’s how it always is with him. He’s always expressionless when he looks at me, but his eyes appear to betray him with that lingering glance that tells me he knows something.

I hear the opening of cabinets, the clanging of pots and pans followed by the stove fan being turned on.  

I don’t know what’s so scary about going up to new people – like you’re constantly afraid of being judged for talking to them. I know they don’t care, but this feels different considering Jeno and I have seen each other many times, never acknowledging each other, just… staring.

Jeno? He’s nice. You should introduce yourself to him!

Jaemin’s encouraging words convince me to get up from my seat and walk into the kitchen. Jeno is standing in front of the stove, cutting vegetables. Slowly, I walk up to him, tilting my head and peering up at him. He jumps a bit when he turns around, startled by my sudden appearance.

“Hi,” I say with a smile. “Um, you’re Jaemin’s roommate, right?”

“Yeah!” He returns a wide grin. “I’m Jeno.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N.”

He extends his hand out to me, barely gripping my hand – almost as if he’s afraid he’ll break it – and lightly shaking it up and down.

“Jaemin told me you’re a chemistry major?”

“Yeah, how about you?”

“Biology.”

We proceed to ask each other the standard series of questions: Where are you from? What classes are you taking this semester? Are you part of any clubs?

And of course, I always mention my struggles with physics because I’m half hoping he’ll have another suggestion in case I decide I want to jump the Jaemin-ship.

“Oh yeah, I took physics last semester,” he responds. “It was terrible because I hate math so I’m taking a break this semester. You should ask Jaemin for help. He’s much better at it than me.”

Goddammit.

“Yeah, I’ve been asking him for help. He’s been helpful…”

A silence passes between us and when I look up at Jeno again, he has this weird look on his face. The corner of his mouth is upturned and his eyes are – well, they look like they’re undressing me. And then I realize that it’s nearly identical to that mischievous look Jaemin has.

Good Lord, do all three of you have the same look?

Actually, you know what? I don’t want to find out.

“I’ll let you get back to cooking,” I say, abruptly heading towards the door. “It was nice meeting you.”

“What were you doing?” Jia asks when I return to our room towards the end of Saturday night.

“I was doing my physics problem set and studying for the bio midterm next week.”

“Ooh,” she coos suggestively. “Were you with Jaemin?”

“No. He’s going to help me tomorrow because went to a football game tonight.”

Hmm… I bet Jisu was there with him.

There’s a stupid grin on her face when I turn to look at her. “Do you like him?”

“No.”

“Really? You guys look like you get along really well.”

“Yeah, he’s fun to hang out with.”

“But you don’t like him?”

“No.”

“But –”

Thankfully Jia’s laptop starts ringing. Her parents are calling her from Beijing. I excuse myself, grabbing my laptop, phone, and water bottle to sit in the little inlet in the hallway until she gets off her call.

I know she suspects something and her inexperience with boys is what naturally makes her curious. According to her, she’s never had a crush on anyone. Not sure I totally believe that. And she’s not aware of anyone who has ever had a crush on her. Actually, she’s never had any guy friends and had once asked me how you communicate with them, her tone almost implying that they were an alien species. Like I said, she’s been quite sheltered most of her life. So she’s slowly learning things. I only wish I wouldn’t have to be the one she asks to tell her what a blowjob is.

When I left my room, I noticed that Jaemin’s door was cracked open. Actually, it’s always cracked open like that. And normally, it’s quiet, but tonight, I quickly learn, is a much different story.

“My girlfriend fucked up the pizza,” Jaemin says disdainfully.

So she was at the game…

“How do you fuck up pizza?” Jeno asks.

“She got cheddar pizza.”

“Cheddar pizza?”

“It doesn’t taste bad.” I hear the microwave door slam. “But it still tastes kinda weird. She also gave me a bunch of coupons.”

“For what?” Jeno asks.

“This one says ‘fifteen minutes of oral.’”

I nearly spit out my water. The hell?

“Fifteen minutes?!” Jeno responds in disbelief. “Can you even last fifteen minutes?!”

“Shut up!”

“Wait, maybe you can see if it can be fifteen minutes total,” Renjun says. “So if it takes you ten times to get to the fifteen –”

“You fucking –”

The rest of Jaemin’s crude response is muffled due to a loud crash. I imagine he threw something at Renjun given that Renjun and Jeno are uncontrollably laughing and I have to cover my mouth to prevent myself from laughing out loud. 

“But yeah,” Jaemin continues. “She gives me these coupons like, ‘You win this fight,’ ‘I won’t get mad when you fall asleep on me,’ ‘I won’t complain when you say you say you want to hang out with your guy friends’ –”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jeno interrupts. “She won’t complain when you say you want to hang out with your guy friends? Isn’t that sorta… shouldn’t that be a given?”

There’s a look of horror on my face as I process what I’ve just heard. Jisu sounds… let’s just say I would not want to be dating her.

“Exactly! She’s crazy!” Jaemin exclaims. “If I spend more time with her, I get more of these things and they’re kind of useful. But I don’t want to spend more time with her…”

“I didn’t really talk to her at the game, but she didn’t seem like she was enjoying it much,” Jeno says.

I purse my lips and run my tongue along my front teeth, completely stunned and quite frankly, somewhat amused that I happened to be out here at the time they were discussing this.

Wow, Jaemin, that sounds like a really secure relationship. Congratulations. If you hate her so much, why are you even dating – oh – the fifteen minutes…

All of these revelations were a disappointing confirmation. First, Jaemin actually does have a girlfriend. He said the G word himself. Second, Jisu is just as high maintenance as I had been able to analyze from her photos. And third, Jaemin is a liar! Well, actually, he hasn’t lied to me. He’s just conveniently left things out.

The alarm bells in my head have started ringing off the hook. At first, they were just there in the background, an occasional beep to warn of a possible danger. But I think now is safe to say that he’s a flirt – and he’s good at hiding it. That’s what makes him so dangerous.

The next afternoon after meeting with Jaemin, I had scheduled a call with Mark. We finally managed to figure out a time that worked for both of us and I had insisted that it was quite important. I was quite irked as I had actually confirmed that third assumption from last night.

I walk up the stairs shortly before my call time, taking note of Jaemin’s door slightly ajar again. As I near my door, I pause when I hear Renjun’s voice.

“Where’s Jaemin?”

“I think he’s out with –”

Dammit. Did he say Jisu?

“Again?”

“Yeah, he hasn’t been very happy lately,” Jeno responds.

“He should just break up with her,” Renjun says.

I continue onto my room, trying to make my footsteps almost silent to make sure they don’t suspect anyone is listening to them, but I nearly drop my things after hearing Renjun’s next question.

“Do you know anything about Y/N?”

“I talked to her once. She’s nice. I think Jaemin likes her though. She’s pretty attractive.”

“Do you think she knows about –?”

“I don’t know –

Suddenly, I hear someone coming up the stairs and shortly thereafter, one of my neighbors rounds the corner. I make eye contact with her, realizing how weird it is for me to be standing in the middle of the hallway. Quickly, I begin acting like I’m shifting my things into one arm in an attempt to grab my keys.

– Probably not. Jaemin never brings her here.”  

“Hey, Y/N!” she greets.

Fuck.

“Hi…”

I turn away quickly, tapping the key fob against my door and run inside.

“No, Mark, I’m serious! He has a girlfriend!”

“How’d you find out?”

I relay to him my story from last week – walking by Jaemin’s room and overhearing Jisu by happenstance, strategizing my method of figuring out who she was, the Facebook discovery, the coupons…

“And he’s been flirting with you like that? And spending three plus hours with you helping you do your homework?” he asks in disbelief. “Yo, Y/N, this guy sounds like trash.”

“He was helping me with physics today and I asked him who he went to the football game with and he said he only went with his roommates. He lied straight through his teeth!”

“I mean, it’s not like he’d actually tell you. He hasn’t told you before.”

“I kept trying to ask him some questions that would easily allow him to say something about it, but he never did.” I purse my lips. “He’s not stupid though. He probably knew I was fishing for information.”

“Wait, wait, wait, I have another question, Y/N. Who gives coupons like that?!”

“Uh… an insecure person?”

Mark lets out a loud sigh. “I mean – I – I can understand giving out coupons for like… a massage or to cook their favorite dinner. You know? Something cute like that. But these are just weird.”

Clicking my tongue, I respond, “Yeah, that was my conclusion. He doesn’t seem to like her very much though. Not sure why he doesn’t just break up with her.”

“Yo, he’s probably scared.”

“I was just hoping that you wouldn’t also confirm that he sounds like trash.”

“Why? Do you like him?”

“No, I’m not interested in dating him. I think he’s fun to hang around and I want to be his friend, but I feel like that’ll be kinda complicated.”

“Do you know what his girlfriend is like?”

“Only from what I’ve seen and overheard. She sounds –” I scrunch my face is displeasure “– high maintenance. She does beauty pageants… and wins.”

“So she’s pretty,” he concludes.

“Yeah, she’s pretty. I don’t really know why he’s interested me if he’s dating this pageant girl.”

“What are you talking about? Y/N, have you looked in a mirror? You’re really pretty,” he says. “And I’m not just saying that because I’m your friend.”

I’m thankful that Mark can’t see my expression since we’re talking on the phone.

“I met his roommate the other day. I don’t – I don’t know how I feel about him. He was looking at me like he was undressing me.”

“See! I told you!”

“But Mark, he’s a college guy. He’s probably interested in sleeping with any girl that’s at least a seven and is okay with ‘no strings attached.’”

Mark is silent for a moment.

“Y/N?”

“What?”

“You know that you just admitted that you’re at least a seven, right?”

“…your point?”

“I’m just saying! Anyway, you know that there’s only one reason why Jaemin wouldn’t tell you he has a girlfriend, right?”

I have a feeling I know what the reason is, but I entertain Mark’s question.

“What’s that?”

“That he’s looking for someone else… someone else meaning you.”

Prev | Next

Before I Met You Masterlist Masterlist

[soranihimawari]

Tell me you love me

Tell me You love Me

taglist: @kaidasen, ⛅️anon ( @tkags’ anon fam), @oikawalovely

Notes: The last part of the 3-part fic with Oikawa and Seiun. There are some minor spoilers in the brief epilogue. This is my first time for writing for any of the Seijoh squad, so I apologize if Oikawa is written in a different light. He’s a dude in like (?) with someone. He’s bound to be a little more soft. A little. Iwazumi returns and we meet Michiru, Seiun’s bff.

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

About another 3 weeks of physical therapy had gone by. I did go out on a total of four “proper” dates with Oikawa (all of which were fun adventures on both his side of town and mine), so it seemed like things between us were going great. He, of course, finished his therapy within the next month or so (his knee was well enough the doctors cleared him to play again, leaving me behind to finish my exercises for an additional 4 month period).

On his last day in the office, we were paired again prompting  him to ask me to come visit one of his team practices over the weekend. I agreed and since that practice I sat in on, I realized how truly gifted he was as a player. Of course, me visiting his campus did not stop his fans from constantly surrounding Oikawa with praises. His fellow teammates, Iwazumi and Mattsukawa joined me on the second row of bleachers.

“He really is popular, holy crap,” I said in a nonchalant manner. “Are your practices always this crowded?”

“Yeah, but it’s mostly because of Shittykawa’s fans,” Iwazumi replied. Mattsukawa bopped his head in agreement. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask, why the nickname?” I said.

“Have you seen how his ego inflates after every cookie bag has been gifted to him?” Iwazumi answered when another underclassman presented Oikawa with home made ones. Oikawa accepted the treats with a cute smile when the student asked for a photo with him holding it.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right, Iwazumi-kun,” I said, my lips pressed into a neutral look of amusement. “What about you, Mattsukawa? Any other stories I should know about your star setter over there?”

“Hmm,” Mattsukawa and Iwazumi had similar heights, but their thinking faces were different. “His last girlfriend broke up with him around the same time his injury occurred for being too focused on volleyball.”

“Now that,” I began as I stood up on my own (I left my crutches behind since my doctor and physical therapist noticed how much I had improved with walking with my brace). “I could see. She is a fool though.”

“Huh?” their eyes were wide with surprise. Iwazumi’s voice was perplexed by my statement.

“Oikawa is dedicated to the sport he loves, she should have at least respected someone who chases their dreams.” 

“That might be the smartest thing you said about him,” Iwazumi said, he had this soft shine to him from the gym lights while we both watched as Mattsukawa rejoined the others who were still trying to shoo away Oikawa’s fans. 

“Don’t tell him I said that, Iwa,” I whispered to him. “It might prompt him to ask me to be his girlfriend, haha.”

“I thought you were already his girlfriend? Besides, your secret dies with me, Seiun-chan.”

Oikawa jogged toward us after the last of his fans slipped through the gym doors. Iwazumi patted my shoulder before returning to his side of the court. The boys exchanged a glance and a nod after Iwazumi said something to OIkawa soft enough that I couldn’t quite catch it.

“Hey there,” I greeted with a small wave. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were popular. Oh wow! Are those chocolate chip cookies?”

“Mmhm. One of those girls made them for me as a get well soon gift,” OIkawa said handing me one. 

“Thanks.” I accepted the cookie and sat back down on the bleacher. I began to munch on the sweet.

“You can hold the bag if you get hungry. We got one more set to play against each other, then I’ll walk you home, ok?”

“Alright. Go get ‘em tiger.” 

On the walk home, Oikawa mentioned about spending some time at the boardwalk in a neighboring town. Apparently, he was given the weekend off from practice since his coaches and team thought it be best for him not to over work himself again. We arrived at our mutual fork in the road: the medical arts building came into sight not too long after we had left his campus grounds.

“Are you asking me to be your date this weekend because it’s your birthday or if you want me to be your girlfriend?” I mused.

“You wound me Juni-chan. I thought I was your boyfriend this entire time?” he said in an equal tone, causing me to stop in my tracks. His statement made my cheeks feel all warm. 

“W-what?” 

“I thought I was your boyfriend the entire time..?”

Oikawa reached out to me and pulled me into a hug, His body was still warm from practice, his heart beat nervously steady for someone who just admitted how he viewed himself toward me. He rested his chin atop my head when I hugged him back.

“I’d like to think after our first date at the park, I knew I wanted to keep seeing you,” he told me. I felt him kiss the crown of my head. “I didn’t care if we went to different schools and had different focuses. You were there with me in physical therapy for an hour and a half and you didn’t make fun of me once.”

Does he always speak like this, I wondered. I didn’t know he felt that way at all, I mean, sure, Oikawa was many things to the outside world: talented setter, brilliant strategist, a pro in the making, role-model, etc., but to me, he’s still on the mend.

“Must be nice to know we view each other the same, hon,” I said shuffling out of his hug. “Take out your phone, OIkawa. You might need physical proof for your fans that you’re taken.” 

The boy raised an eyebrow at me before changing his phone’s camera to self-cam mode. I grabbed his unzipped jacket by the collar and pulled him toward me. With my eyes closed, I pursed my lips and when I felt his lips crash into mine, I heard the snapshot being taken. Although this kiss was chaste and short-lived, the look of shock OIkawa wore was the most adorable thing I witnessed. I let go of his jacket and smoothed it out for him.

“Let me see how we look,” I said, taking his phone away from his hand. The photo was cute, albeit a tad blurry, but anyone of his mutual followers on social media could tell there was another girlfriend on the horizon. “We look great enough to share this on your social media page. What do you think Oikawa?” 

Instead of answering me, Oikawa wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into another kiss. His lips tasted slightly of chocolate chip cookies, but I raised my arms around his neck. I still had his phone, but I don’t think he cared. This kiss was a promise of realness, of accepting each other as we are. When we broke apart this time, I slipped his phone back into his track jacket pocket. It looked as though he didn’t want to go yet, so I nodded over his shoulder because the street lamps started to flicker on.

“I don’t want to leave yet,” he whispered against my lips. His hand cupped my face, his calloused thumb rubbed my higher cheekbone. I leaned into his touch to glance up at him. 

“Good night, Tooru. I’ll see you at the Sendai City train terminal on Saturday.” 

***

Since the day Oikawa posted the photo of our first kiss, every one of his social media followers were curious about the photos he shared with me in them. My best friend, Michiru, confronted me about it. I told her his social media accounts were run by him and he has the right to alert his fans that he was happily taken. As he gained praises for snagging a lucky girl like me, I also noticed that my followers were on the rise on Instagram. A few of our date photos wound up on my story where as his were snapshots of me and him having fun. Some of his captions were inside jokes, but mine were clever: there was a photo of me and him at my arts festival on my campus I shared with the caption “Love is simply like a kiss: one can’t do this alone. Seriously though, he’s gorgeous. Why are you so handsome??? #boyfie #dates #hokuhighschool #festivalofarts2kxx” 

On the other hand, Oikawa was careful with the ones we took at the pier this weekend. I held his hand and he snapped a photo when I led him down the food tents of the night market there. Although my back faced the camera, my hair cascaded down my back, but my leggings, dark knee length skirt, and loose fitting sweater were not enough to identify me (until one of his teammates outed me via tagging my @ in the comments). My knee brace outline was still seen poking through the bottom half of the snapshot. Regardless, his caption was smooth as hell:  “Wherever she leads me, I will follow. She makes my heart do the doki-doki thing with her enthusiam for the night life. Happy birthday to me. I love you. #girlfriend #datenight #boardwalkdates #bestbirthdayever”

By the time midterms came around, I had gone to several of Aoba Johsai’s games, including their rematch with Karasuno. I was supportive as ever considering this loss would be the last game they can play together. I received a text from Iwazumi mentioning that his friend might need me to walk home with them later. When I met the guys at their home gym, I watched as each of them burst into tears. The sight made me feel a bit bitter as well, but I remained quiet when Oikawa yelled, “Thank you for the last three years!” to which I applauded with a grin. His teammates looked at me, especially the second years who had come around to calling me “Jun-senpai.”

“Jun-senpai!” they greeted in between sniffles. They group hugged me as I showered them with praises of them playing well. The boys let go of me when they saw their captain walk up to me, causing them to disperse.  

“You guys too,” I nodded toward the other third years still cleaning up the gym. “I’m still proud to cheer for your side any time.” I smiled at him when I reached up to brush his tears away.

“I’m proud of you too Tooru,” I said, kissing his cheek. “Go clean up. I’ll buy you dinner this time on the way to your place. We’re still on for watching Ancient Aliens, ok?”

“God, I love you,” he said aloud. His teammates made mocking kissing noises to annoy him since the time for tears has passed. I chuckled. 

“I love you too, go on Oikawa. The faster you wrap up, the sooner we can have our sleepover.”

Later on that evening, Oikawa’s tv played nothing else but background noise. He raised the volume just a little bit while pressing open kisses all over my face and neck. I gasped the first time he hoisted me up in a extended liplocked embrace once he closed the door to his room. My knee brace was placed on the side of his bed near his computer. His kisses gained momentum as each one garnered a soft moan to escape my body. His lips packed a punch every time he gently bit a piece of my exposed flesh.

“S-slow down,” I whispered with a taunting smile when he placed me in a straddling position at the edge of his bed. I had emerged from a bubble bath with him where he gave me another powerful insight to the kind of physical lover he really was. “We just cleaned up. You want to go another round so soon Tooru?” I was wearing one of his old alien screen print cotton t-shirts with my bra and underwear on underneath.

“You’re,” a kiss landed on my temple, “so,” another one down my jawline, “fucking,” one more under my chin, “gorgeous.” the last one was behind my ear. I threw my head back in glee, my hands toussled his dark hair. The dark room was illuminated by the light coming off his sepia toned monitor. When I began my return assault of kisses toward him, I let my hands traverse under his shirt. I needed more of whatever this was; I liked it when Oikawa was possessive over me. I liked the way I pulled incoherent praises from him. I began to raise his shirt until he was annoyed with the damn thing and he tossed it to the ground. He bit my lip to challenge me in doing the same actions he gave me not to long ago. A kiss for every word? I thought. You’re on.

“Tooru,” I whispered as I kissed his lips softly, “you,” my lips peppered his jawline, “are,” I scratched his chest which caused him to whimper, “thoroughly,” I landed another opened mouthed kiss on his mid neckline, “fucked.” With the last word being said, Oikawa firmly gripped my lovehandles and pulled me down along with him on his bed. I landed on top of him as he continued to deepen our fun. His reply though had me laughing into our second round of sex that night:

“Not yet starlight,” he said as his hands pulled one of his shirts I was wearing over my head exposing me to him a second time. “I’m going to leave you satisfied every chance I get from now on.”

“Make me a believer then,” I said before he rolled me over and I pulled the blanket over us one more time allowing our carnal desires to be fulfilled as much as they can be.

The sound of the alarm clock the following morning was not amusing to either of us. I silenced mine when I realized I fell asleep with just my bra and underpants back on while my hair strewn was over Oikawa’s chest. He was sound asleep, looking as peaceful as ever, but our hands were still linked under the duvet. I played the events from the night before over my head. Thinking about how many times he surpassed my expectations saying my name over and over again in nothing but sweet fever caused me to realize how greedy his kind of love is. It’s just as relentless as he is.

“Too~ru...” I said softly. His pout formed on his face in such a childish manner I found it funny. I caressed his left side of his face with my nose. “Come on, we have to wake up or else you’re going to make me walk all the way home alone.”

“Mmmkay,” he replied groggily. “Morning pretty girl.” He raised my hand he held to his lips. Soon thereafter, he and I slowly began getting dressed, trying to hide all the lovebites left behind, but we didn’t care who saw. We were young adults who also learned that sex didn’t really change much in our budding relationship because we knew that we clicked both in and out of a shared bed. 

I texted Michiru who asked how sleeping with Oikawa went. She and I were not really prudes due to our various dating habits, so I was perplexed by her question: 

From:

(▰˘◡˘▰)Michi-chan(▰˘◡˘▰)

14:33

How may rounds and how many times did he hear you? 

To: 

(▰˘◡˘▰)Michi-chan(▰˘◡˘▰)

14:44

4 rounds; 5 times.

From:

(▰˘◡˘▰)Michi-chan(▰˘◡˘▰)

14:46

Holy shit woman. Oikawa’s a baddie & I been knew. Jesus Christ. O.O 

*** 

Eventually, time moved on, so winter break began. Our friends (only the third year groups from my side and his) respectfully have met on several occasions and one night, after a kareoke group date in mid town, the volleyball players prompted their captain to stay behind while they took my friends out to eat some ramen down the street.

“An artist who likes heavy metal, who knew?” Oikawa teased. I arched a brow at him. I turned away from him for a moment to get the name of the ramen restaurant our friends were going to.

“It’s a great stress reliever, babe,” I said with a shrug. Oikawa wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close to him. He bent down and pressed a kiss to my temple.

“I know,” he released me from his arms, only to grab my hand to hold it instead. “C’mon, let’s go me--” 

I squeezed his hand once as a warning before I firmly placed my lips on his. To say he was caught off guard (you’d think he’d get used to it by now, haha) was an understatement. I felt his free hand caress my cheek before he settled on grasping at a fist full of my hair. His lips pressed back on to mine with an acknowledging smirk. The kiss had been one of hundreds between us, but I thought I should make it a point to express how grateful I am we had these few minutes alone. He dropped his hand that was in my hair to my shoulder. His zip up hoodie with an alien print on it was draped over my outfit because I got cold earlier in the kareoke room we shared with our mutual friends. His turtleneck and slacks made for a sleek, sophisticated look compared to mine (white wide legged pants and swoop neck ruby blouse with a blazer). Suffice to say now everyone who supported our relationship really liked how well we were photographed together. Michiru was surprised when she began reading all the comments on my Instagram pages saying he was lucky to have such a gorgeous lady by his side. 

“What was that for?” Oikawa asked in a dreamlike haze. There was some mischievous wonder in his eyes. I let go of his hand and took a step back. Oh shit. What if he’s going to tell me he’s going to leave the country after graduation? Of course I’d follow him. This love we share has to be stronger than distance, right? Why does he always look so vulnerable after I kiss him? Oh crap red alert! Red alert! My thoughts were running a mile a minute. 

“Do I really need a reason to kiss you other than the fact I like your company?” 

“Not really,” he responded. How was this young man overtly confident on the court, but somewhat coy around me?  This time he tilted my face upward to study my face in the neon light. His breath tickled against my lips as it often does after we shared a tender moment. “I like you too. Close your eyes. I’m going to kiss you again, ok?” 

I nodded in compliance. The feather like brush of Oikawa’s lips against mine were careful, but lacked patience. Each one applied more pressure, igniting a hunger he wanted to satisfy after that; the third one was just as delicate, but long enough for me to inhale his cologne, the mint of the candy served at the kareoke club, and the soft lavender scent of his laundry detergent. I moved my hands to cup his face to deepen our kiss. He bit my bottom lip playfully and when I opened my mouth, I traced every crevice with my tongue. Every now and again, I tilted my head whichever way he nudged my hair. The only time we paused was when we needed some air. It was then Oikawa pulled away to rest his head against mine.

“Tell me you want this to continue after graduation as much as I do,” I asked keeping my eyes closed. As I opened them slowly, I noticed a few of his bangs tickled my face, so I brushed the stray strands away from his face. 

“You know I do,” he said in a soft tone. “You’re all I want. I’m going to love you the way a strong girl deserves to be loved,” He kissed my forehead before mentioning we ought to meet at the ramen shop before our friends wondered where we disappeared off to. 

As we arrived, Oikawa gave a nod toward our friends. He draped his arm around my waist away from my friends’ curious eyes at the table after we placed our order which caused me to break away from the conversation for a little bit.

“So, Oikawa-san. When did you start falling for our Juni-chan?”Michiru asked taking a sip of her tea. Oikawa coughed, yet quickly regained composure while switching to clear his throat. He squeezed my side gently when I raised my cup of tea causing me to shoot him a teasing glare. I looked back at Michiru and our other two friends, Chihiro and Kosmus (named after a cosmic flower) who were eager to hear his answer.

“It had to have been the day he first saw her struggling with her new brace,” Iwazumi answered pushing his best friend a glass of water toward our side of the table. “That’s what he told me at practice the next day. Called her a chaotic beauty who has the mouth of a sailor.”

My friends busted out laughing because of course they knew I learned how to curse from watching a lot of Western films. The day I cursed my new brace was a few days prior to seeing that I wasn’t alone in the physical therapy office. 

“It hurt to stand, bend properly, and I fell down so many times, so of course I was going to curse up a storm. Seriously Oikawa?” I elbowed him playfuly. “That was the day you started to like me?”

“What can I say? You made the time go by faster,” Oikawa said. This caused his friends to laugh as well. I rolled my eyes. My scar had healed and my leg, although a bit sore from time to time, was back to almost 100%. I had reduced my follow up therapy sessions to once (or twice) every month, but all appointments were cancelled when the last two weeks of the year rolled around.

After we ate and bid the restaurant owners good night, we decided it was time to call it a night. Oikawa offered to walk me home. Mentioning something about if I get abducted by aliens, he’d have proof to break into area-51 to rescue me. He made me believe in other life outside of this planet, although I knew it would be several life times from our own before contact would be made. I never once made fun of his hobby even after we held a watch party for the X-Files when he had invitationals at the local universities. 

Before we knew it, we were outside of my grandmother’s house. I took off his hoodie, attempting to hand it to him, but he simply refused.

“I think my girlfriend should keep it,” his voice was sincere. “C’mon, get inside before you catch a cold.” 

Oikawa kissed my cheek before whispering something in my ear which caused my brain to burn my cheeks with a rose tint. I buried my face in his jacket and walked inside my granny’s house. 

“Your boyfriend can come inside y’know Jun-chan,” she mentioned as she saw me untie my boots. 

“I know, but right now, I have to go pack my backpack in my room. Good night grandma.”

I stood in front of my mirror hanging behind my door and slipped his hoodie on again. I took a selfie with the hood covering my eyes, making a hand gesture I learned from a sign interpreter: “this is how westerners sign ‘i love you.’” 

I sent the image to Oikawa who’s only reply was, “You’re perfect. G’night starlight. Peace, love, and aliens?”

***

I received a call a month after graduation from OIkawa asking me to meet him outside my grandmother’s house. I had told him I had been accepted into a university with a strong focus on photography and fine arts in Tokyo. To say he was proud of me was an understatement. He splurged on a bouquet and card for me whereas I got him a balloon and one of his favorite photos of us framed. We exchanged gifts on our respective last days of school, but that was last week. 

I walked outside the front door and stood on the last step of my grandmother’s porch area. Oikawa’s brows furrowed in worry. 

“You wanted to talk? Is everything ok?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

“I-I’m moving,” he told me. He couldn’t look me in the eye when I let out a gasp in surprise. “I want to grow with the sport I love, but I don’t want to leave you behind either.”

“I see,” I said. I stepped down toward the sidewalk to reach up to cup his face to force him to meet my eyes. “Tooru, look at me, C’mon. Meet me halfway. There you go.”

His lips were quivering like a guilty child who was about to be scolded for eating the last cookies right before dinnertime. 

“I’ll meet you every time I have a long break from university, ok? You can facetime or video chat with me every day you miss me, just don’t look this defeated. You’re going places. I said I’d be there to support you no matter what, so don’t leave here without thinking breaking up with me is a good idea because it’s not.”

I gave him a peck on the bridge of his nose. My hands dropped to my side afterward.

“Where do think of going?” I inquired.

“Argentina,” he answered. His voice seemed to gain more confidence knowing that I had presented a plan to him he could deal with. “I heard that sand on the courts there were really soft there.”

I let out a low whistle. “I wondered where you heard that from. So, Argentina, huh? Alright then. It’s settled.” 

“What is?”

“I’ll meet you there during the first spring break I have, Oikawa.”

Oikawa picked me up into a hug and spun me around. I laughed as he spun me around a second time, but before he put me back on the ground, he mentioned he’d do his best to visit me too.

The next six weeks fluttered by. I was already settled in my dorm, but I chose to skip class the day Oikawa was flying out. He and Iwazumi were on the same connecting flight after making landfall in the U.S. Iwazumi left first, hugging the two of us.

“I’m going to miss your shit eating grin,” I said, punching his arm gently. “And mainly our monster movie marathons. I needed a break from all those alien docu-series, haha.”

“I’m going to not miss telling Trashykawa to take better care of you,” Iwazumi replied. “Y’know I told him to quit screwing around and ask you to be his girlfriend during our third year, so really you should be thanking my sweet advice, Juni.”

Iwazumi bent down to hug me, when I gave him a shocked expression.

“Eh?!” I exclaimed. “Seriously?” I looked at Oikawa who merely shrugged as a reply.

“Yeah, yeah, she knows, dumbass,” Oikawa said shaking his head. “I’ll see you in LAX. Go on, Iwa-chan. Chase your dream.”

“You too. See you in a couple of hours.” 

With that final good bye a fist bump later, Iwazumi had disappeared out of our line of sight. I led Oikawa to sit down by a large window. I imagined he replayed memories in his head we made over the course of our relationship. Sure, we had a few minor arguments, but mostly it was because I wasn’t truly believing half of what his experts were saying on tv about aliens and the same goes for him not believing in urban monster myths. Those fights were petty, but entertaining. Even if he did forget about date, which happened only twice, he made up for it by blowing those outings out of the water: a blanket fort picnic when I had a cold & another date to the planetarium when they had an exhibit on Saturn (my favorite planet in our side of the galaxy). Currently, I was humming the song that played on the radio while Oikawa held my hand up until his flight number was called over the intercom. 

“I don’t want to leave yet,” he whined as he buried his head against the side of my neck. His breath tickled my neck before he pressed a kiss there.

“But if you don’t, you won’t be able to evolve into the best player you can be,” I whispered back as I ran my hands through his pillow soft hair. “Tooru, I’ll still cheer for you thousands of miles away, you know. Just don’t aggravate your injury Mr. Hit It Until It Breaks. Come on.”

The nickname I bestowed upon him caused him to straighten his back up; a smirk was drawn across his face when we stood up. His glasses were hanging off his collar. He picked up my other hand and pressed both of them against his lips. I felt the tears glazing over my eyes. Sure, I was saying good bye to my boyfriend for the last year and a half, but he didn’t need to see me cry right now. Crying was for later, I reminded myself. When we see each other again over the following breaks I had coming up in my (university’s) academic curriculum. 

“Here,” Oikawa said handing me a small box with a note attached to it from his carry-on luggage. “Read this when you get home. I’m sorry I’m leaving several months before we can celebrate our second anniversary, so this is for you. I’ll call you when I land.” With that, he kissed my cheek one more time before disappearing past the sea of other travelers that final day of spring. I giggled, telling him it was alright. I texted him shortly thereafter: More than likely, I’ll be there in Argentina to celebrate the holidays with you, so you can make up missing the two year mark to me. With love and luck, Juni

An hour later, on the train ride home, I opened the envelope he gave me in the common area of the airport before he boarded his flight. His handwriting was so much more legible than mine (although I am left handed, my kanji still smudged every time I chose the wrong pen to use in class).

To my starlight: thank you for sharing the last year and a half with me. We’ve come a long way from coke floats and milk bread. Thank you for supporting me as much as I have supported you. You make me feel invincible every time I heard you cheer for me; I’m going to miss you, you know. You showered me with nothing but enduring love and respect for my love of the game. You have no idea how much your encouragement means to me and for that I am grateful. Oh! You must be wondering about the box, right? I wanted you to wear this because it’s a tangible reminder that you own this heart of mine (also to remind you to come visit me, I’m kidding! Please don’t sass me about it because you said you would!) I look forward to your first month free from university. xo-Tooru

I propped open the box which made a gentle click. I saw the stacking sterling silver rings with an arrow in the middle. I slid the rings over my fingers with a gentle smile. 

“Damn his endearing gesture,” I said in a low tone. I took a self-cam photo of my hand over my mouth with my eyes closed when I arrived back to my dorm and posted it on my page, captioning it as follows: You’re one of a kind. Be safe out there in Argentina. Por favor, mi amor, come una bola de fraile por mi. I’ll see you in a few months. #hesakeeper #oikawasgf #gpoy #tangiblepromise #arrowrings

Afterward:

The tensions were high in the stadium. Cheers for both teams filled the arena I currently found myself in. The score was deuce in the final set. Oikawa asked me multiple times since my last visit to move permanently with him back to my home country. Argetina was always as beautiful as ever with enough talent to match the blossoming professional careers of his volleyball peers. This often led me to catch Oikawa up to speed with the latest news of the whereabouts of his disciple, Kageyama, as well as what career paths his fellow alumni chose while I was finishing my last accelerated course in Photography-fine arts degree. In return Oikawa told me of the many times Iwazumi called him lucky to have someone who loved him as much as he did playing a sport you knew would take up a majority of his life. 

Over the last phone calls I had with Iwazumi, he also reminded me of how whipped I am for his friend up to the point he was helping me choose winter outfits for the southern hemisphere. Although it was summer here in the northern side of the globe, the winter chill had come to South America a little early. My tablet sat on my bed when I opened my closet. At this time, I had moved in to an apartment off campus with the money I earned from taking up a paid internship at a local fashion house not too far from the photo lab I use at my school.

The week before I flew out to Argentina again, Iwazumi Facetimed me from UCLA. Oikawa and I have been on good terms since the day he left Japan. The conversations on the phone were brief, but the text chains we exchanged were long. Michiru from time to time called me during her own apprenticeship in Hokkaido (the restaurant business was what she wanted to focus on after high school ended for us). Going back to Oikawa, we agreed early on that whenever we had enough money set aside for travel, we’d take turns visiting each other. This visit though, was my turn. I was in the middle of packing my suitcase when I received Iwa’s call:

“I don’t understand why you persist on surprising him this time. The last time you did, he wouldn’t shut up to me about it for a fucking week. Please tell me you’ve at least slept with him that time.”

“Are you that desperate for attention you need to hear about me and your best friend’s sex lives?” I teased, laughing as soon as he realized he made that comment aloud. “And the answer is yes, obviously. The first time was a few days after you guys lost to Karasuno. But that’s neither here or there, if you want details of this latest naughty adventure, don’t ask me. That’s on you and your best friend to discuss when I’m not talking to him. I’m not one to fuck and tell, Hajime.”

“Yeah, I know,” i felt his eye roll coming while I zipped up my suit case. 

“Juni, you need to take care of him when you get there. Remind him not to over do it.”

“I’ll take care of your best friend the best way I know how,” I continued, turning to face my tablet. “You know I always do.” I stuck out my hand adorned with the rings Oikawa gifted me on the day he flew out. Iwazumi let it slip that he was the one who planted the idea in Oikawa’s head during a late night 2a.m. text where Oikawa mentioned he wanted to gift me something before he left to which Iwazumi replied with the concept of a promise ring. Who knew this practical friend was such a big softie who supported his best friend’s choice in women (me. I’m talking about me, Juni).

“You think surprising him in Argentina this time would be a good idea?”

My leg had healed back less than a month ago, leaving a cool scar on the inside of my calf down to my ankle. The first time Oikawa saw me without my brace, I freaked him out by sitting on a wheelchair and when he bent down to hug me, I stood up and walked toward him normally. He freaked out in the best way. (There were a lot of cheers, mostly from the hospital staff because only the docs who took care of me knew how much I had progressed) 

“Of course it is. I e-mailed his coach I would be coming to visit after today’s game. They’re in a time out now, so I gotta go. We’ll see you in California for the new year. Later, Iwa-chan.”

I pushed my way to the front of the railings to view the court where his team was playing. The time in the sand courts really did alleviate his mended knee. It also made his plays a bit more tighter in terms of touch to set ratio reaction time. Choosing now during a time out to make my presence known, I raised my hands to my mouth and shouted: 

“Oikawa Tooru!” 

At the sound of his name being called, he spotted me with wide eyes. His toothy grin still looked as lovely as ever. “I flew half way across the world to see you play again! Don’t mess it up!”

“That’s your girlfriend, right?” his team mate asked, smiling up at me with a wave. “You better not let her down.” Oikawa nodded in excitement. He felt the electricity in the stadium come to a halt when every strategy was working in his favor; even his counters had improved. I guess the last time where we played a condensed version of “king of the court” (one on one) at the sand court near the shoreline really assisted in his ability to bring out the best of his teammates.

After the match (which his team had won after the last match), I ran down to the first floor to see him surrounded by reporters and photographers. He walked away mid-sentence to hug me, his lips always finding mine first before I could even process what was happening.

“You’re really here,” he whispered in my ear when he squeezed me into a tight embrace. The sound of the media pass holders taking his photos with me surrounded us. I nodded. 

“I came to surprise my favorite superstar,” I teased. “Now, tell the world you love me.” My arms gripped his shoulders as if to challenge him.

Oikawa did not have to be told twice before he reached behind my neck and kissed me again before he answered any more questions. 

The newscasters moved on to other members of his team, but the photographers stayed behind for a little bit. Long enough for one of them to snap more photos of us. 

Special thanks to ⛅️ anon for tracking this work of mine, @tkags & to @vbcshenaningansnwritings for proof reading this on my behalf. Love ya

[merculuros]

Chrisker Series

When You Fall For Your Enemy

You Aren’t Alone, You Have Me (Part 2)

Summary: Wesker who still doesn't remember anything, wants to learn about his past. Chris tells him his made-up story which upsets the other. When Chris tries to comfort him, Wesker surprises him with his unexpected reaction which only leaves Chris stunned and confused.

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Albert Wesker

Word count: 2,765

Tags: Crack, Humor, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Alternate Universe: Canon Divergence, Post Re5, amnesiac!Wesker, Slow Burn, Kissing, First Kiss.

Author’s Note: You can find this series on AO3. I was going to add the link but if I do that, the post will not show up in the tags, so here we go.

“Alright, we have some options here; gold, silver and titanium. What do you think?” Chris asked looking at beautiful, shiny rings under the glass panel.

“Why do I help you choose your engagement ring? Can’t you do it by yourself?” Jill answered through the phone.

“You should have thought of all this before you got me in this mess. Also buying rings was your idea and I don’t know about rings that much. You have to help me.” If Chris had to suffer through this, she had to as well. After all she was the reason why he was in a relationship with Wesker. He wasn’t exactly fan of the idea but Jill said it might be necessary not to make Wesker suspicious, he didn’t want to be caught unprepared again.

Jill sighed rolling her eyes “Hmm let me think for a second. …. I think you should go for a titanium or a silver ring. More simplistic, you know.”

“What’s wrong with gold?”

“I have a feeling Wesker wouldn’t like gold or …. maybe he would since he likes to be very dramatic and extreme. Honestly I don’t know, but if there is one thing I can say, most of the time people choose gold for their wedding ring. I mean if you really want to speed up the things” she giggled uncontrollably “and marry him as soon as possible, then buy a gold one.”

“Jill, you are the worst friend I have ever had in my entire life.” Her giggles were turning into laughter  before he hung up furiously.

********

Chris stood in front of the door outside his home. Taking one of the rings out of the little velvet box, he put it on. He studied how it looked stretching out his left hand curiously. He was glad he listened to Jill because this ring was just what he wanted if he ever really wanted to get engaged to someone. The outer part was covered with titanium which made the ring look simple but elegant while a turquoise stone was crushed inside creating a beautiful contrast. He wasn’t a jewellery guy anyway, so this was good enough for him.

Fishing the key out of his pocket, he unlocked the door and stepped into the long hallway. Even though it had been two days since Wesker moved in with him, they didn’t have a chance to talk since Chris had to work late at night this week and Wesker would stay at home all day. Whenever he came back home, he would be too tired to do anything other than sleep, so they could barely see each other. He avoided this long enough, but today was the day they would have the long-awaited conversation.

Just when he was about to pass the doorway of the living room, he stopped in his tracks upon seeing the blonde. Wesker was lying down on his belly on the sofa, one hand tucked under his head like a pillow. There was an open book laid on the floor which he must have dropped after he had fallen asleep. Slowly approaching the other, he chuckled lowly seeing what he was wearing today. All these years he had known Wesker, he never saw him wear anything other than black, only the dark blue uniform when he had been his captain. A few days ago when he brought some clothes for Wesker, Chris took upon himself to color his wardrobe a lit bit, so he purchased shirts, hoodies, pants and other type of clothes with wide range of colors just to be petty, which was incredibly amusing to him since he wasted a lot of time and money just for that. Though it was worth the sight he had his eyes on right now. He never imagined the day he would see Wesker dressed so casually; in a pink hoodie and a gray boxer, but here he was witnessing it. If he had to be honest, pink looked exceptionally good on him and the boxer. Yeah … that damn boxer which made his perfectly round ass look perkier and –

Wow, way to go Chris.

Shaking his head to distract himself, he crouched to take the book slowly. His eyes landed on the blonde’s face this time, he found it fascinating how Wesker looked the same and different at the same time. This was the face that was engraved in his mind for years, but his features looked so soft that the man before him was like a different person. His hair wasn’t slid back like the usual style Wesker preferred; it was disheveled and falling on his face. Chris got a sudden urge to run his fingers through the blonde locks to see his face more clearly. He reached out his hand hesitantly. Just when he was about to touch his hair, the other shifted sleepily and Chris withdrew his hand as if it was electrocuted. A few seconds later, red eyes opened languidly and focused on his face this time full with surprise.

“Oh, you are home early today.” Lifting himself up, he sat on the couch and blinked his eyes a few times to protect them against the sudden assault of light coming through the curtains.

“Yeah, it was just for this week. Normally I always come home early.” Chris answered moving out of the way so he could give the other more space. Standing up, Wesker yawned and stretched up his long arms high to bring his muscles back to life. With that movement his already short hoodie was pulled up revealing his toned abdomens. Chris’s eyes must have lingered too long because he heard a low chuckle which made him to look up and see that he was caught looking. Averting his eyes from the blonde, Chris started to fiddle with the book in his hand and Wesker headed towards the kitchen deciding to leave not to embarrass him. Chris didn’t trust himself to watch the man go, since unconsciously he didn't have a problem with looking at the inappropriate parts of his body.

“Uhm … are you hungry? There isn’t much in the fridge, so we might need to go shopping later.”

“I had a bit too much at lunch so I am not hungry. I – I mean We don’t cook that often so we don’t buy a lot of stuff to make food. If you are hungry, I can order whatever you want. That’s normally how I- we do it.” Chris knew he had zero cooking skills, so he would have take-outs or order fast-food most of the time.

“Since we had breakfast yesterday morning, I haven’t been feeling hungry at all and I still feel like I will be fine if I don’t eat anything” Wesker laughed nervously “and I hope you have an explanation for that. Not knowing what’s going with me is starting to scare me.”

Wesker and being scared, ha? That’s a first. A small smile tugged to the corners of Chris’s lips “I will change my clothes then we will talk.” After putting on something more comfortable, Chris headed back to living room, on his way back he realized the air smelled like coffee. Wesker made some coffee?. Which he hoped was the case because that was the only thing he needed right now. Entering the room, he saw two cups placed on the table, hot steam coming off them. Wesker was sitting crossed-legged on the sofa, both hands holding the hot cup and his eyes fixated on the barely visible steam dissolving into the air. When he saw Chris walk in, Wesker gave him a little smile and brought the cup to his lips to drink some, with one hand he patted the space beside him for Chris to sit. Chris averted his eyes quickly, thinking how close they would be side by side but sat down anyway. He didn’t know what to do with this nice Wesker. It would be so easy to deal with him if he was like his old self, but now he wasn’t the ruthless madman with a god complex who had tried to destroy the world over a week ago and it would take a while for Chris to get used to him. As long as he stayed that way, Chris wouldn’t have a problem with living with him either.

“Thanks for the coffee … uhm … is there something you specifically want to ask or do you want me to just tell you everything?” A thoughtful look appeared on Wesker’s face like he couldn’t decide which to choose.

“How did we meet?” he asked suddenly. It wasn’t the question Chris expected but he found it pretty normal since he was his so-called fiance. The idea on its own made Chris want to facepalm so hard that he could barely hold himself not to.

“That would be actually a good start because I think this whole story will answer a lot of questions for you.” He grabbed the cup and sipped a little buying himself some time to go through his made-up story in his mind.

“I am all ears.” all his attention was on Chris now.

“You know, I told you before that we fight against bio-terrorism.” Wesker nodded without even blinking “and this whole thing started with that pharmaceutical company called Umbrella years ago. To sum up shortly, they were experimenting on people secretly and their failed experiments turned these people into zombies. Then one day the viruses they created were leaked in Raccoon city which revealed their true face.” Also your true face. But of course he wasn’t going to say that. “Since then, we have been trying to take that company down. And about three years ago, we found another one of their secret facilities. We went there to destroy it, but then in one of their laboratories we have found you.” Chris watched the other’s face carefully and saw that Wesker’s eyebrows raised in surprise then he continued “It turned out that you were one of their researchers and a virologist. That’s how we met and the reason why you have red eyes and some super-human abilities you may not be aware of yet is because they experimented on you too.” A heavy silence sank down on them. Wesker’s eyes were wide with shock, surely that wasn’t the story he expected to hear at all, but that was the best Chris could come up with half truths and half lies. A totally different story would make it hard for Chris to explain his body’s inhuman nature.

“Are you telling me that I am partly responsible for the destruction that company caused. That’s … that is horrible. You must have thought I deserved what I have got.” His head was hung low and his eyes looked guilty. Chris couldn’t believe what he was hearing, Wesker showing some kind of remorse for all the things he had done before was unreal. Who are you? Wesker’s opposite twin. Maybe it is the best for everyone that you don’t and hopefully won’t remember anything.

“No, I never thought that. Nobody deserves that kind of inhuman treatment.” Not even you. If there was one thing which came out out of his mouth and wasn’t a complete lie, it was this. He never wished that torture on anybody.

“Uhm you said I was one of their researcher. Why would they experiment on me if I was one of them?”

“This is the worst part, I am sorry but you have right to know. The owner of Umbrella, Ozwell Spencer was obsessed with finding immortality which is the reason why he founded Umbrella. To achieve this, he had genetically advanced children all around the world kidnapped to use them as test subjects. For this purpose, they initiated a project called …. Project Wesker” upon hearing his surname, Wesker gasped probably seeing where this was going “these children were monitored, controlled by Umbrella all their lives. And when the time came, they were injected with prototype virus and only one of them survived. That person was …”

“….. me.” Wesker completed his sentence, his voice was barely audible. If Wesker looked upset after learning he had been one of them, he looked depressed now. As much as Chris hated the blonde, he couldn’t lay all the blame on him. Umbrella created a monster out of an innocent child, none could deny that. Chris remembered the day he found Spencer dead with Wesker standing above him. Maybe that’s why you killed him. Learning you had no control over your life pushed you deeper into darkness.

“But you know these are all in the past. They are gone and you can live however you want to without them haunting you.” The atmosphere was getting gloomy, so Chris wanted to cheer him up a bit “Also I have a nice surprise for you.” Wesker lifted his head up and looked at him.

“What is it?” There was no eagerness in his voice for any surprise but he tried to smile anyway.

He dug his hand into his pocket “When you were in the hospital, I realized that you lost your engagement ring on the mission.” Taking out the ring box, he showed it to him “So I bought you a new one.”

“Come on, give me your hand.” The blond held his left hand before him. Chris was mesmerized how long and elegant his fingers were compared to his thicker ones. Putting on the ring, he hummed appreciatively.

Wesker’s brows were furrowed, he was looking at the ring, though it seemed like his mind wasn’t there.

“Do you like it? If it isn’t to your liking-”

“No, it is perfect. All the things you have told about my past …. I don’t know, I feel empty. My whole existence in life was planned to be nothing more than a test subject. I have no family, no friends. I have no one. That’s a lot to take in.” He laughed but there was humor in it. At this moment, Chris wanted to switch off that part of his brain which made him feel bad for the blonde but he couldn’t help himself, he had a soft heart.

“Oh, wow. I am really offended. Am I no one to you?” Chris asked jokingly, his remark leaving a smile on the blonde’s face. “You know you have me.” The brunette added squeezing his hand reassuringly. He didn’t know why he felt the need to comfort the man like this but he did it anyway. Their eyes met and Chris saw that Wesker’s eyes lightened with something else now. Before he could understand what was going on, he felt the blonde’s lips on his own. His eyes widened in shock, his body unable to move. Wesker’s hands held onto his shoulder, pulling himself into the brunette’s lap to sit. Despite his bold move, his lips were shy against his. The blonde must have interpreted his lack of reaction as a refusal, so he blinked his eyes a few times feeling hurt. He was pulling himself back to apologize, then Chris held the back of the blonde’s head and locked their lips together again. He needed to play along with this game to make this fake relationship seem real. Though deep down he wasn’t complaining about the kiss. Chris shared a lot of kisses with both men and women in his past relationships before, but Wesker’s might be the softest he ever kissed. For a second, Chris debated if he should deepen the kiss or not. Then Wesker leaned back, their lips separating with a loud pop. The blonde had that disheveled look again but this time his cheeks were slightly pink too. Chris was sure he looked almost the same.

“You know, I saw potato chips in the kitchen today. I say we watch a movie or something. What do you think?” He asked, his eyes looking anywhere but Chris. Chris could have laughed at how uneasy Wesker looked trying to change the subject to make the situation less awkward, if he wasn’t feeling the same.

“Yeah, good idea. I would like that.”

The blonde quickly climbed down off his lap and disappeared into the kitchen. Of all people Chris knew, Wesker had to be one to kiss him and what’s worse was that he actually enjoyed it as much as he didn’t want to admit. Burying his face in one of the pillows as if to hide his embarrassment, he whined. He was feeling like fate was playing a cruel game on him and he didn’t know how to free himself from it.

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Truth [Part 1]

Master List 

Request:

What’s up sug! sorry you’re struggling right now but I’ve come to help you If you could bring this to light for me I’d absolutely love for YOU TO DO JT So basically Bucky X Enhanced reader who are fuckin enemies. Hate each other to every last fiber of their beings bc Bucky is rude and she calls him out on it. AnywHs, they get drunk, truth or dare (go crZy baby) and LOTS LF dirty talk if u wanna do smut but if u don’t then buck taking care of her while she’s drunk cause she admitted her feelings

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (Enhanced)

Summary: Since The Avengers gave you a home the only blight has been Bucky Barnes, a ghost from your past that you can’t seem to shake. It makes you hate him. The feeling, it seems, is mutual. But maybe things aren’t quite as simple as they seem. (Post Winter Soldier AU)

Warnings: Violence, guns, plotting (lol).

A/N: Well. This is a thing. At first, when I got this ask I was like... uh... hmm... this is so not me. (Honestly, the truth or dare element threw me because let’s be real, I haven’t played that since high school.) But then I thought about it and realized I could totally run with this and have some fun. Then I ended up having too much fun I guess. (And look I’m not saying it’s perfect but damn I’m enjoying it.)

I think this won’t go past a three-parter but who knows. The next bit gets smutty (I know for sure since I’m currently writing it) so stay tuned for that. Also, this makes three fics I’m actively writing (you know plus my day job) so I can’t promise part 2 will be up next week but sooooon. 

Tags are open! 

@mywinterwolf  @disagreetoagree @peachthatdrinkslemonade @breezy1415

I could do it, you thought staring down the ridge. No one would know it was me, too much chaos, just focus and BAM, the old fuck drops… Just then Steve flings Barnes the shield to fend off an attack and you remember that you can’t off the fucking Winter Soldier because Steve, who had unquestionably saved your life, would be absolutely devastated.

“Hey Y/N!” Barnes bellows over the com, “How about you pull your fucking weight?!”

No. One. Would. Know. “Hey Barnes, how about you go fuck yourself?”

“Kids,” Clint pipes up. “Play nice.”

You chose to ignore them both and plant your hands firmly on the ground. About 20 Hydra agents just ahead of you, you could feel the vibrations of their energy through the soil. Your breath stops and you begin to pull energy into your body, the air around you getting cooler with each second. This was going to be a show. Heat curls up your arms, you feel like you’re on fire, electric with this power. Admittedly this didn’t always work, focusing the energy through the ground but this time you had pettiness on your side and that was as powerful a weapon as whatever Hydra put in you.

“Fuck, on our twelve,” you hear Barnes say. Little late old man. “Goddamnit! Y/N why do-“

Now. Intentionally making the energy release a little more powerful than it needed to be you let go, concentrating hard, Just the Hydra agents, no one else, acutely aware of where each of them stood. White hot light snaked from the ground into the bodies of each unsuspecting agent, their screams loud, an uncomfortable sizzling hitting your ears as they lit up like candle flames. As gruesome as it was, in one shot you eliminated every single one.

“What was that about doing my part, Barnes?” You snipe over the com standing looking smugly over the ridge, “Your count was what, five?”

“We’re clear,” Natasha says before he can respond and you silence your earpiece, turning on your heel to head to the jet.

Back at the tower, you’re stripping out of your gear in the locker room with Natasha.

“You know you two could just fuck and get it over with.”

“What?!” You’re genuinely confused.

“Uh, you and Bucky. You go at each other like-“

You begin laughing, “Look I get your angle here but no, that’s not what this is. He’s a fucking asshole, and not in the way that gets me going,” and they didn’t know what he had been like before, not really.

“Whatever you say,” she slams her locker, dirty tac gear inside to be picked up for cleaning, “but there’s nothing like a good hate fuck to work out tension.” With that, she saunters away.

The thought of letting him touch you made your skin crawl. Though… No. Absolutely fucking not.

Tony had demanded everyone get together to celebrate a successful mission and as much as you weren’t a huge fan of social gatherings of more than two people even after almost a year of working with them all you begrudgingly agreed when it was made clear that this was a casual affair.

You stare in the mirror at yourself in black skinnies and a fitted white tee, so… normal looking. Who would suspect you were essentially a woman shaped atomic bomb? Sighing you throw your hair into a ponytail and head for the elevator. At the very least, Barnes never came to these things.

Mother. Fucker. When you got out of the elevator you had thought you were in the clear. Tony shoved a whiskey neat in your hand (spiked with his special ingredient to get the enhanced among you just as lit as the rest) the coast looked clear. Then across the room in a corner, you saw Barnes brooding, drink in hand, slouched in an oversized chair.

“What did I say earlier,” Clint says with a wink, jabbing an elbow at you.

You roll your eyes, “I always start off playing nice, thank you. It’s not my fault he’s determined to piss me off at every turn.”

“I’m on your side,” Sam pipes up from your other side and you can’t help but laugh at the exaggerated look of disdain on his face. Barnes looks at you then, eyes burning. All humor drains out of you and you turn away to head to the other side of the room.

The evening goes surprisingly well. Tony’s ‘special sauce,’ as he keeps calling it, is just enough to get you perfectly tipsy... if not bordering on drunk. Honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this loose. Not to mention his playlist for the night was on point, unsurprising since you were technically Tony’s age (even if you looked half that) so you generally had the same taste in pop culture.

This was the first time since you had been with them that everyone was together and for the most part everyone was having an exceptional time. Everyone that was except for your resident cloud of darkness.

Unable to let sleeping dogs lie Tony finally plops down on Barnes’ lap, “You know, I made this hooch for you special, because out of all you,” Tony gestures to you, Steve, and Thor, “I think you’re the one who needs to let loose the most. So,” Tony picks up the tumbler that had been sitting on the table next to Barnes the whole night, “drink your juice, Shelby.” Between the Steel Magnolias reference and the look on Barnes’ face you nearly send your drink shooting through your nose with a laugh.

Barnes looks at you then back at Tony, not a flicker of humor in his tone, “I don’t think you care to know what me letting lose looks like Stark.” With that, he dumps Tony off his lap. The mood of the room immediately shifts, everyone afraid of just what The Winter Soldier letting lose would indeed look like.

“Wow,” you drawl, “really know how to kill a buzz don’t ya Barnes?” The look he shoots you is ice cold, Steve looks stressed, and all you can think is, Please, please give me a good reason.

He saunters over to you in, what Natasha has playfully labeled his ‘murder strut,’ and looms over you, “And you’re just the life of the party, huh?”

You sneer, “Nah, but at least I can pretend to be a normal human for a few hours.” His upper lip ticks just a bit, and you swear you can hear the metal plates in his arm shift. When he moves you’re already bracing yourself internally for a hit, instead he just plucks the drink from your hand and downs it in one shot.

“Alright, Tony, it’s not bad. Guess I’ll have another.”

“That’s more fucking like it!” Tony bellows getting up to make another drink for Barnes immediately lifting the room back almost to where it was before. As for you, you plaster a smile on your face but all you want to do is level that fucker.

Banner goes down for the night and Clint follows not far behind despite taunting from all of you. About being lightweights. Things had started to wind down but Natasha, still wide awake, isn’t quite ready to let everything go quiet just yet.

“Alright, now that the old men have left us I say we play a game,” the look on her face is filled with mischief.

“What kind of game?” Steve catches her tone and looks more than a little suspect.

She smirks, “Only the best kind of game when you’re in the company of soldiers, assassins, gods, and spies...” everyone stares, “Truth or dare.”

“I’m down,” you’re drunk enough to want in on this mess.

“What exactly is that?” Thor looks confused as if it can’t mean what it sounds like.

The rules are laid out. No truths that can get anyone killed because... well between Nat, you, and Barnes there had to be more than a few secrets that should 100% be kept. And, only minimal bloodshed would be permitted in the event of a dare. All rules everyone could easily abide.

Only ten minutes in and you realize the long con Nat’s been playing at... and that you should have definitely not agreed to this.

“Dare,” you say.

Natasha’s mouth curls into a smirk, “Good. Kiss Bucky.”

“What?!” You both spit at the same time throwing daggers at the other. Everyone is cackling.

“You can’t refuse, it causes no harm, and it’s the least the two of you owe the rest of us for making us deal with you,” shrugs of agreement from everyone. Barnes’ head drops to his hands.

“I’ll take a truth then.”

“Not how it works,” Thor chides laughing. “You have-“

“Want to make me?” The temperature around you dropping just a little as tiny streaks of energy snake up your arms. Any residual cheer drops away.

“Now who’s a buzzkill?” Barnes asks sardonically. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. He was right. And maybe you could zap him a little just to prove a point.

Without another word, you stride across the circle and pull him up by his collar, the fabric making a ripping sound. He doesn’t resist you and you kiss him hard, bordering on violent, forcing your tongue in his mouth just to be sure no one can say it wasn’t a thorough kiss. And... maybe you were curious as to what he would taste like. For good measure though you let just a touch of the energy zap his lips. He pulls back in shock at the feeling.

“Happy?!” You ask turning to the group. They’re all staring like they really didn’t expect it. “Good.” You sit down heavily next to Natasha without another word and diligently chose truth for the next hour.

Eventually, you all grow bored of the game and fall into just talking, though you mostly listen. You were so committed to ignoring his existence you don’t actually notice that Barnes had slipped away until everyone decides to disperse.

The rest of them seemed perfectly content to go to bed. You were envious. Being drunk went from being fun to making you feel anxious around the time of the kiss. The power had been too quick to come to you, too volatile, you knew that. Not being in control was something you hated and... if you were being honest wasn’t good for anyone around you.

Need to sweat this out, you think and head down to the training grounds buried beneath the tower.

You had intended to go to the shooting range. Tony had set up a special stall for you that had heating panels all around it so you could play with your energy manipulation more, refine it, make it your own. But as you walk up to the glass you see someone else emptying a clip at a bevy of moving targets, hitting each perfectly.

Lightening fast he changes the clip and you can’t help but watch as again not a single target is missed. You’re good but you can’t touch that level of precision. Not yet. But Barnes was good at what he did, no one, not even you, would question that.

It doesn’t take long for your admiration to sour though. He had this uncanny way of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Suddenly the steady sound of bullets stops and he hurls the gun at the targets, roaring. His hands rest on the small counter before him for a second, back heaving. Turning halfway, not noticing you, he leans against the wall of the stall and slides to the floor his head thudding against it, forearms resting on his knees, cheeks shining with moisture from sweat or tears you couldn’t tell.

Goddamnit, your dislike for him ran along the lines of hatred... you had thought about how to kill him so many times in so many ways it was almost comical. Right now though... You didn’t have it in you to comfort this man when you could hardly tell him good morning most days but you could at least give him privacy.

You turn to leave and you feel his eyes on you, “Enjoy the show?” Most wouldn’t have been able to hear his words through the thick glass but you weren’t most.

He’d seen you, no use in pretending. “Not particularly.” You open the door and stride in, heading toward your booth, “And as usual you’re right where I don’t want you to be.”  

You’re almost in your booth when he starts laughing, and you’re pretty certain you have never, in the years you’ve known him, heard him laugh. You lean around, “Something funny?”

He keeps laughing, “Yeah, you.”

“Oh?” You walk back to him and stand looking down, arms crossed. He’s cackling. “Do tell.”

“You really don’t know why we always end up here at the same time? Why we’re always at each other?” More laughter, “You really think you hate me.” Finally, he takes a breath, wiping the tears from his eyes, “Your obliviousness is hilarious.”

“You’re such a fucking prick,” you say and turn away.

“Yeah. I am. And you’re a cunt.” You spin so fast any normal person would hardly have seen your movement, streaks of light snaking around your skin, ready to destroy him. “I’d say we’re cut from the same cloth.”

“No,” you growl.

“Really?” He stands up and shoves his hands in his pockets. “So you’re not in here because you need to work off the feeling of not being in control?” He takes a step toward you and you move back in turn. “You’re not in here because you’re scared if you don’t get that energy out you’ll hurt someone?” A few more steps. “You don’t wind up in here more nights than you’re in your bed because you can’t sleep?” You're almost against the door. “Just. Like. Me.” Your back bumps against the glass.

He’s inches from you, so close you can smell the whiskey on his breath, “If you touch me I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I know you will.” He stares at you for a moment, “That’s why I’m glad you’re on the team.”

[yallreddieforthis]

Believer

Fandom: It (2017)

Pairing: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier

Rating: T (for language and Richie being Richie)

Words: 7k

Soulmate AU. Takes place in 2004. Humor, banter, first meeting, first date, first kiss.

And wow. Wow and a half. Richie couldn’t have even dreamed up a guy this cute, although admittedly he’d been picturing some dude in baggy jeans and a beanie with a hacky sack this whole time. Which couldn’t be further from this...absolute snack of startled, prep-school perfection.

Oh my fucking god, I hate that song.

Y’know, Richie has seen worse. Some girl in his English class has damn, how you fit all that in them jeans? so really, anything after that is an improvement.

And it’s not like the soul mark is constantly on his mind or anything. It’s on his back—literally, he can’t see it without two mirrors and he had to have Bill read it out to him when it first showed up—but every once in awhile he remembers that someday he’s going to hear oh my fucking god, I hate that song and he’ll just know. Well, maybe more than every once in awhile. It’s kind of like a recurring daydream. That, and what he’d do if he suddenly became Cyclops from the X-Men.

Fifteen year old Richie was positive it was going to be like some punk-ass rocker chick standing outside Hot Topic and reacting to 98 Degrees over the loudspeaker. At least, that was his first thought. And it’s not like it’s going to be a problem if that’s what ends up happening—because no matter what or who else he’s into, Richie is positive he’ll always have a deep-down internal hard-on for punk-ass rocker chicks—but lately he’s had this nagging feeling in the back of his mind that… Well, it could just be like, a memory of a dream or some shit. And Richie certainly does not believe in dreams coming true, but it wasn’t until well after he got a soul mark that he admitted to himself that his secret thing for Chad Michael Murray is not going anywhere anytime soon.

Richie thinks it would’ve been easier to admit to being The Bi-est if it hadn’t been goddamn Chad that forced him to realize it. Like if it had been Orlando Bloom in Pirates or something when he’d been like alright, time to fuckin’ fess up . But he explained away his crush on Orlando as like, well, Orlando is cool as fuck. Duh. Who doesn’t want to blow him?

Same with like, David Boreanaz. Richie is convinced that even the straightest of straight guys fell desperately in love with Angel when they watched Buffy. He could stick his stake in anyone and they’d thank him.

But Chad...mm. Richie is the only guy he knows who watches One Tree Hill. He’s sure about that because every joke he’s ever made about Lucas Scott has been met by blank stares by Bill and Bev and even Ben, who, though ostensibly straight, would totally love One Tree Hill if Richie ever got the balls to ask him to watch it with him. The only people in the whole world he has to discuss it with are the group of girls who sit next to him in Physics. So actually, Richie blames One Tree Hill for his D in Physics. If he hadn’t started talking to those girls—and he probably wouldn’t have if they hadn’t been discussing the show—he might’ve been able to learn about science instead of playing Fuck Marry Kill every period. So even though it truly is the worst show he has ever watched on purpose, once a week, like clockwork, Richie sits his ass down in front of the computer to jerk it to Blondie McKenDoll because...what are you gonna do.

It ended up being a blessing in disguise because he decided to let his friends know he’s bi and a One Tree Hill fan in one fell swoop. He only got shit on about the One Tree Hill thing, especially because he was the one who used to give Ben shit about Dawson’s Creek. So really, that was only fair.

Still, that was nothing compared to the shit he got for having a soul mark that’s like...inches from being a tramp stamp. Secretly (and also not-so-secretly), Richie loves it. It’s deliciously tacky, the handwriting is almost as bad as his; really, he couldn’t have asked for something trashier. He might’ve died of shame if he’d gotten delicate, loopy cursive around his forearm like Bill it’s lovely to meet you, finally Denbrough. Anyway, anybody who writes that nicely would never be compatible with Richie. And god help whatever poor guy has a soul mark in Richie’s handwriting somewhere on his body. Richie can only pray it’s somewhere unobtrusive.

The messy printing is only a small part of what has convinced Richie his soulmate is a boy. It’s mostly just a gut feeling, something he doesn’t want to acknowledge because he can’t explain it. It feels stupid to bank on something like that.

Richie is low-key disappointed by the fact that he's never seen the handwriting from his soul mark crop up in any of the school graffiti. He's even gone and tagged the bathroom stalls a couple of times, in the hopes that whatever guy it is will see it. And deep down, Richie knows he probably wouldn't have done that if he'd thought his soulmate was a girl.

They're all reasonably convinced that Bill's soulmate is British, based on the whole lovely thing, and Richie has taken to mimicking the kind of accent he thinks she might have. Bill keeps being like I'm not gonna match with the qu-qu-queen, Richie, but if she's the kind of girl who goes around telling people it's lovely to meet you... Richie's not saying she will be like some kind of aristocratic socialite, just that she might be. He thinks Bill should probably be taking steps to prepare for that sort of scenario, although he's not sure what those steps might be. Cotillion? Cigar smoking? Tea making?

Either way, Bill has time. There aren’t any British girls in Derry. No way is he going to meet her until at least college.

In any case, thinking about what song he and his soulmate can hate together to be a lot better pastime than whatever the fuck Mr. Shulman is writing about on the whiteboard. Richie feels like he can't take a hundred percent of the blame for failing to pay attention. The green marker Mr. Shulman is using is frayed, fading, and praying for the sweet release of the trash can, and it's not like Richie can really see the board from the back of the room on the best of days. His parents have suggested, well, more like insisted he sit up front but like...Bev sits in the back, and sitting up front would put a damper on the bubble gum blowing contests they have when Mr. Shulman isn't looking. Tragically, his parents probably wouldn't agree with his reasoning. But whatever.

Richie has a list in the back of his notebook, which he relies on his inscrutable handwriting to protect from prying eyes, of every song he's ever heard that he immediately disliked. He started it on his fifteenth birthday with a list of past horrors and adds on every time Creed releases a new single.

  Titanic song—My Heart Will Go On

I Hope You Dance

Hero—Enrique Iglesias (although Richie has admittedly crossed out and rewritten this one several times because, you know, Enrique)

Soak Up the Sun—that chick that’s dating Lance Armstrong

Summer Girls

I Knew I Loved You

Your Body Is a Wonderland

I’m Like a Bird

Anything that has ever been on American Idol

 And so on. He's got 37 entries so far, and it's been two and a half years in the making. He's just in the process of deciding whether A Thousand Miles deserves a spot on the list when Bev nudges his shoulder and hands him a note under the desk, written in Ben's even, exacting printing.

  Tuesday: Circle one

- National Treasure

- Mean Girls

- The Passion? (probably not, I know)

- Saw

- Troy

 Richie truly sees no point in reading further because Bev has only circled National Treasure and Mean Girls and there is a zero percent chance Ben won't side with her , but he'll be damned if he's not going to give his opinion anyway. He scribbles a big fat line through The Passion, because although he knows Ben's AP history class will give him extra credit for seeing it, but he's not sure he loves Ben (or rather, Ben's history teacher) enough to sit through three hours of Jim Caviezel getting whumped.

Apropos of nothing, a song begins playing in Richie’s head; a good one, thankfully. Richie has very little control over his internal radio and sometimes it gets stuck on Radio Disney, so some Weird Al is a welcome reprieve.

  And the guide... Richie mutters while tapping on his desk.

  Said not to stand

But that’s a demand

That I couldn’t meet

I got on my feet

And stood up instead

And knocked of my head, you see

Tell meeee…

 From Richie’s other side, Bill’s elbow collides with his ribs.

“You’re doing the th-thing again,” he mutters under his breath. Richie rolls his eyes. He doesn’t understand why anyone— his math teacher included—would not be delighted by a surprise rendition of a Weird Al song, regardless of where in the song he happens to start singing. 

Back to the movie list. Everything else...hmm. Troy looks badass—and stars Richie's one true love, Orlando Bloom. There's a good chance he's gonna be naked in it too. Richie draws a dick next to Troy as part of the decision-making process. He knows Ben only put Saw on the list because he thought Richie would like it. There's no way Ben actually wants to watch Wesley from Princess Bride get chopped up. Richie scratches Saw out and writes you're not fooling me next to it.

He's heard good things about Mean Girls, but still... Bev probably only circled it because she knows it's Ben's first choice. Sometimes being best friends with a couple makes Richie want to spray them with projectile vomit. But, you know, in the best way. He has no particular objections to Mean Girls himself, except that National Treasure promises to be amazingly, spectacularly adventure-y and ridiculous, and Richie is always down for that kind of action. In fact, he would just as soon use the advantage of a half day where his parents are at work to watch Jumanji on the big TV in the living room, but...

Fuck it. He's feeling generous today, and he kind of wants to witness Ben vibrating with excitement when he sees the note so...he circles Mean Girls and passes it back.

Ben's gasp upon receiving it is worth it.

Apparently, Derry High isn't the only school having a minimum day because the mall is fucking packed with teenagers. The concession stand line is super long, but where else is Richie supposed to find a nauseating selection of overpriced candy and a bucket of popcorn that could feed a small village? After dousing the popcorn with butter to the point where Ben almost gags, they make their way into the theater to find seats. Which are shitty almost-front-row ones because it took them so goddamn long to get snacks that those are the only four seats together by the time they get in there. Lucky the guy sitting in front of Richie is super short. Bev and Ben aren't so lucky—the curls of the guy to his left are almost as impressive as Richie's, and the guy in front of Bev is just obviously really tall.

The previews haven't even started yet—it's just the shitty like don't talk in the theater ads and dumb TV trivia questions.

Richie feels incumbent to entertain his friends at all times, but especially in moments like this, where nothing else entertaining is forthcoming.

Uh huh, he whispers, starting up a beat on his thigh. Uh huh. Extra Cheese.

Bill sighs in a long-suffering sort of way beside him.

  Uh huh. Uh huh. Save a piece for meeeee…

 He turns to Bev and starts whispering the rest of the lyrics directly into her ear because he can’t not.

  Pizza party at your house

I went just to check it out

Nineteen extra-larges, what a shame

No one came

We sat eatin’ all alone

You said, take the pizza—

 “Shh!” Bev puts a finger over his mouth. “You’re going to get us kicked out again.” 

That’s fair. Although, in Richie’s defense, it’s not like they missed out on much last time. The Village was supposed to be shitty anyway.

Mean Girls is, as it turns out, almost as interesting as the antics of the people in the row in front of them. Curly and the tall one are  a couple, clearly, and Richie feels for Shorty The Third Wheel, whose face he has yet to get a good look at. His hair is as neat as Richie’s is messy though—the kind of perfect where Richie can’t tell if he tried to make it look like that or if that’s just how it is. It’s just long enough to sweep over the tips of his ears and to almost touch the back collar of the polo shirt he’s wearing. He sits with his legs crossed in front of him, which Richie hasn’t been able to do since eighth grade.

The couple is cute, like stupid cute. The tall one is black and like, easily a ten no matter what your taste is; Curly is white with defined cheekbones and a cardigan. Tall has his arm around Curly, who has leaned into his neck. It makes Richie at least ten times gayer than he was before he walked into this theater.

Halfway through the movie, Richie has finished his monster popcorn and started in on the Milk Duds. He’s getting intense gay vibes from Aaron, who is supposed to be hot but is a little too Mister Muscles for Richie’s taste. Of course, Richie also likes Chad Michael Murray so… Even Richie’s taste doesn’t match with Richie’s taste. Whatever. At least his mouth and brain are in agreement on the subject of Sour Patch Kids, which is what really matters in the end.

But anyway, Richie prepares to come away from this movie a changed man with a new appreciation for Jingle Bell Rock by the time the credits roll. He’s definitely going to have to see this at least four to sixteen more times—or however many he can get away with before his friends threaten to kill him—because he missed a lot of the jokes being distracted by the way Shorty was craning his neck to look up at the screen. Richie pops the last of his Starburst into his mouth without unwrapping it. If there was an Olympics category for unwrapping a starburst with your tongue, Richie would be a gold medalist.

“Did you finish all that?” Ben gasps, leaning over and gaping at the graveyard of candy wrappers across Richie’s lap. Richie nods, burps, and rubs his belly like a proud expectant mother. He spits out the Starburst wrapper and hands it to Ben with a wink because he knows Ben’s too polite to drop that shit on the floor for the ushers to clean up.

“Well,” says Beverly, taking a final, bubbly sip of her Icee, “when you give birth to that thing later tonight, don’t call me to cry about it.”

And because she gave him such a perfect opportunity—and because he absolutely will be calling her from the bathroom later tonight—Richie decides to finally finish his song.

  Why’d you have to go and make me so constipated?

This really is a—

 He doesn’t get any further because a sharp voice cuts in from directly in front of him.

“Oh my fucking god, I hate that song.”

And then Richie’s back is attacked by a thousand mosquitos at once—or at least that’s what it feels like. He overheard a guy on the quad once say that the sensation from his mark when he met his soulmate gave him a boner, but apparently it’s different for everyone because all this does is make Richie want to light himself on fire. 

Which is why when Shorty in the J. Crew polo wheels around to look at him, Richie is awkwardly shifting, trying to find a way to itch his back on the seat. Maybe not the first impression he was going for, but just then, Shorty’s eyes lock on to Richie’s as he locates the source of the song, so yeah. There it is.

And wow. Wow and a half. Richie couldn’t have even dreamed up a guy this cute, although admittedly he’d been picturing some dude in baggy jeans and a beanie with a hacky sack this whole time. Which couldn’t be further from this...absolute snack of startled, prep-school perfection.

Before either of them can say anything else, Shorty yelps and grabs at one of his legs. That’s when he seems to regain the power of speech.

“It’s you?” he says, glaring sharply at Richie. “You’re the reason I haven’t been able to wear shorts for three fucking years?”

People are starting to leave the theater, which Richie hardly registers because he is having a full-on, swear to god Disney moment. This guy is like a...a bear cub. Not like hairy— he’s actually noticeably not hairy—but in the sense that he’s small and huggable-looking and Richie wants to pick him up and squeeze him but would probably get mauled if he tried to do so.

“Do you even—oh, sorry,” Shorty says, apologizing to the person who is trying to scoot past him. Then he turns back to Richie and flicks his eyes over him; just like a quick once-over. It’s impossible to tell if he likes what he sees. Richie notices he is still rubbing his calf.

“Itches like a motherfucker, doesn’t it?” he says, giving up on his seat-wiggling and reaching behind himself to scratch at his soul mark. Unfortunately, it turns out to be one of those itches that hurts when you scratch it, so he pulls his fingers back with an, “ow, son of a bitch!”

Shorty hisses.

“What’s wrong, Eddie?” Tall leans over Curly to ask Shorty—Eddie. Eddie.

“Fuck,” says Eddie, then he takes in a deep breath, rubbing his leg like he’s dying to scratch it. “This asshole—” he points an accusing finger in Richie’s direction, “—is the reason I’ve had those Weird Al lyrics about being—sorry, excuse us—about being constipated on my leg since before the goddamn song even came out.”

Tall and Curly both swivel around to stare at Richie. That gets Bev’s attention.

“Wait, Richie,” she says, grabbing his arm. “Is this—” 

“The love of my life,” Richie announces proudly, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. “Eddie.”  

There is silence for a second during which Richie can almost see smoke coming out of Eddie’s ears.

“Fuck,” he says again. For all his preppy khakis and neatly combed hair and pristine white sneakers, he sure has a potty mouth. Richie couldn’t imagine anything better.

Bev gapes too, tapping Ben rapidly on the knee to get his attention. Curly’s eyes narrow as he examines Richie critically.

“Eddie, are you sure this is him?” he asks, still staring.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, pulling up his pant leg and peering at his leg. “Yeah, cause—you know what? You can’t really see it in—”

“Excuse me,” calls an usher from the end of the aisle. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” Richie calls back cheerfully. “This is my soulmate! Isn’t he—”

“Right,” says the usher, blank faced in spite of this being the greatest of all possible happenings. “You think maybe you can move this party out to the lobby? I need to get the floor cleaned before the next showing.”

Eddie practically disappears into his friends during the awkward group shuffle out of the theater, but Richie walks backwards, keeping his eyes on all five feet and...four inches? three? of the gorgeousness that is Eddie.

Out in the light of the lobby he’s even better. Soft-looking brown hair, lightly freckled cheeks and arms, and—once he pulls up his pant leg—a soul mark that looks like the logo for someone’s z-list death metal band. The skin around it is pink and blotchy, but Richie can see the lines already fading. The only word that’s really fully legible is constipated. Which is hilarious, so Richie can’t understand why Eddie seems so ticked off.

Not that it fazes him in the slightest. It is actually written in the stars or the Book of Fate or whatever that he and Eddie are meant for each other. They’re destined to fall in love. If Eddie is mad at him now, he won’t be later.

“Whoa,” says Curly, tracing his fingers over Eddie’s soul mark. “Yeah. There it goes.”

“I’m Mike,” says Tall, who, now that they’re all standing, is actually the same height as Richie. He extends a hand, which Richie takes and then uses to yank him in for a hug. He smells amazing.

“Richie,” he says into Mike’s shoulder, before next trying to plaster himself to Curly. He hears Ben start to make introductions with Mike before Eddie’s voice cuts in.

“Stop,” he orders, running both hands through his hair, which bounces immediately back into its immaculate style. “Okay? Just—this is not happening right now.”

“Tell that to my heart, cutie,” says Richie. “And by my heart I mean my—”

“My mom?” Eddie says, like he’s name-dropping—like that should mean anything to Richie.

“God, if she’s half as cute as you, then hell yes.”

“No,” says Eddie. “I mean like, my mom. Does not know. That I’m gay. Fuck. Like, she has no fucking idea. And she’s gonna have a shit fit when she finds out. I keep telling her I don’t even have a soul mark yet—she never would’ve let me out of the house again if she’d seen it.”

“So?” says Richie. “Now it’s going away; now she doesn’t have to see it.” Seems more like a solution than a problem if you ask him.

“Honestly I was hoping not to even have to deal with any of this shit until like after college,” Eddie says. He looks like he’s considering just making a fucking break for the door. Like, don’t want to deal with this now, bye! Which, fair.

It’s a lot to roll with, especially just out of fucking nowhere like that. Richie probably should be freaking out way more than he is right now.

The idea of not seeing Eddie again until after college sounds terrible, but he doesn’t want to admit that. Going around like, yeah, I met my soulmate but he had a meltdown and ran away so… Like, he could do it if it’s what Eddie wanted. But he really hopes Eddie changes his mind.

“Do you want me to just like...fuck off?” he asks Eddie, quietly enough that the others won’t hear him.

Eddie frowns. “I don’t—”

“I mean...I guess we don’t have to like, you know, go for it now. Like. If you’re not into it, it’s cool. No offense taken. Maybe I’ll… I dunno, find you on Friendster in a few years? When things are easier? Or you can look for me. It’s Richie T-O-Z-”

Eddie cringes, checks his phone. “Shit, I have to go. My mom left me three messages; she’s probably already in the parking lot.”

And before Richie can even get upset about the idea that his soulmate is about to walk off into the sunset without so much as a dramatic monologue about how he’ll never give up on their eventual theoretical love, Eddie bites his lip and looks up into Richie’s face. His eyes are big and brown and make Richie feel like his ribcage is liquefying.

“Gimme your phone,” he says. Richie’s heart leaps into his throat as he pulls it out of his pocket.

Eddie takes it from him. “You should really get a case for this thing,” he says, clicking away on the number pad.

Their fingers brush as Eddie hands back his phone, with one last long look back as he scampers away.

Richie starts typing before he’s even left the lobby.

 From: Richie

hi its richie, the actual love of ur life

 From: Eddie

jesus i havent even reached the parking lot

dont text me too much its 15c a text, my mom will catch on

 From: Richie

can i see u again

i miss u already

 From: Eddie

i can probably get out again saturday

 From: Richie

saturday? what about tmrw?

 From: Eddie

im lucky if i get saturday

saturday, yes or no

 From: Richie

YES OF COURSE

meet me in front of the arcade 1st and Adams

…

ok?

 From: Eddie

Yeah 2pm stop texting me 

Eddie—god even thinking his name brings up a rush of butterflies—is standing outside the arcade looking about as comfortable as if it were a strip club. He’s wearing shorts, apparently for the first time in years. Something tells Richie that Eddie’s not going to be one of those people who gets their soul mark tattooed on after meeting their soulmate. The jury is still out on Richie—he kinda misses his already.

In the five days since they met, Richie has outlined itineraries for at least three different honeymoons and started a shortlist of names their adoptive children. He hopes Eddie also dreams of naming his sons after the kids from South Park.

“So,” says Richie, leaning down and looking Eddie in the eye, “yes or no to kissing on the first date?”

“Who said this was a date?” Eddie scoffs, opening the door to the arcade and rolling his eyes.

Richie has as much of a plan as he’s ever made in his life for this afternoon. First it’s the arcade where he can show off his bitchin’ Dance Dance Revolution skills, then to Johnny Rockets next door for a burger to remember, then hopefully back to Richie’s car to make out if they really hit it off.

Richie honestly cannot wait to show Eddie his car. It’s super impressive, even though it’s missing a bumper and the back passenger side door is held on with duct tape. Is a handjob too much to hope for on the first date? He doesn’t want to pressure Eddie or anything, but Richie is ready to give Eddie a handjob yesterday. So as soon as Eddie’s ready to rumble, they can get down.

Richie brought both his windshield covers just in case—the blue one and the Ren and Stimpy.

Turns out there’s a long line for DDR, which Richie probably should have counted on since it’s Saturday. Perfect opportunity for getting to know each other though. If Eddie would just like, you know, talk. He’s silently chewing on his lip instead, brow furrowed.

“Come here often?” Richie asks him.

Eddie shakes his head. “More like never. My mom won’t let me. Says the arcade is full of germs. She thinks I’m at Stan’s house watching High Society again . ”

“What’s High Society?”

“Really?” Eddie looks up at him. “You haven’t seen—like, with Grace Kelly, Frank Sinatra? Bing Crosby? No?”

“So it’s like...a super old movie?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says slowly. “What—I’m just curious—what’s your favorite movie?”

“Definitely The Big Lebowski,” says Richie right away. “That’s easy. Best movie of all time. Oh, except maybe White Chicks. Pulp Fiction. Scary Movie 3.”

“Oh my god,” Eddie whispers, apparently to his shoes.

“Please don’t tell me you preferred Scary Movie 2. That might be a dealbreaker. Soulmate or not.”

“But you do like scary movies?” Eddie perks up a little. “Have you seen Wait Until Dark with Audrey Hepburn? It’s super scary.”

“Audrey Hepburn? Ohhhh, that chick in The Philadelphia Story? My grandma makes us watch that every year when we come over for Thanksgiving.”

Eddie purses his lips. “That’s Katharine Hepburn.”

“Are they sisters?” Richie asks.

“No.”

Richie isn’t worried. Eddie probably just hasn’t seen, like, Dude Where’s My Car yet. Easily fixed. His parents will be out of town next weekend; Eddie can stay over and they can watch it. That and definitely Catch Me If You Can.

He pitches the idea to Eddie, whose eyes light up at the mention of Catch Me If You Can.

“Oh my god,” Eddie groans, “Leonardo DiCaprio was like, my sexual awakening.”

“For sure,” says Richie. “He was such a badass in Gangs of New York. Which one did it for you? Was it The Man In the Iron Mask?”

Eddie looks at him like he’s being an idiot. “Uh, you’re guessing The Man In the Iron Mask before Titanic?”

“Really?” Richie winces, super disappointed and unable to hide it. “Titanic, Eddie?”

Eddie smirks. “No. Romeo and Juliet. You’re up.”

Richie tries to decide whether Romeo and Juliet is a better or worse sexual awakening than Titanic as he chooses a song. Richie practices DDR every weekend the way some people faithfully go to church, so he’s pretty confident he’ll blow Eddie away no matter what.

Still, just to be safe, he picks easy mode when he thinks Eddie isn’t looking. Eddie’s never been here. He doesn’t need to know that it took Richie six months of practice before he finished a song without failing out. It’s gonna look cool either way.

And, okay, in hindsight...these brand-new Dickies are still kind of stiff. They might not have been the best choice for DDR. He just figured they’d make a better impression than the old ripped ones he was wearing when they met. Eddie strikes Richie as the kind of guy who doesn’t wear the same pants two days in a row; he doesn’t need to know that Richie (up until the day before yesterday) only had the one pair. Richie has decided he might even be convinced to break his strict rule of not throwing out pants until they’ve worn through in the crotch. All for love.

Eddie smiles brightly at his abysmal score. “Wow, that was pretty good. Can I try?”

Damn, that smile. Whipped already and they haven’t even kissed yet. Richie steps down with a bow.

Eddie stands tentatively on the DDR platform.

“Um…” He looks at the screen. “This one?”

And before Richie can stop him, he’s picked a crazy song on hard mode. If it were Bill, Richie would settle in and prepare laugh his ass off. Maybe even try to grab his camera from the car.

“So you just like, step on the arrows when they show up on the screen?” Eddie asks while the game loads.

“Uh, yeah,” says Richie. “But you know—don’t worry if you fail out. Took me awhile to get the hang of it.” He winks. 

“Okay,” says Eddie. He rolls his neck and shakes out his arms and… Whoa, why does Richie suddenly feel like he’s about to pop a boner?

And then, uh. And then Eddie is nothing but a flurry of legs, jumping, twirling, hopping back and forth. He claps and snaps with the beat—god, he knows how to use his fucking body. Thank god for Richie’s stiff new pants. He bends a little at the knee, letting his sweater drape down over his lap. Other people in the arcade are stopping what they’re doing to watch—he’s that good.

After what could have been either ten seconds or ten years—but nothing in between—the song ends and Eddie bounces lightly off the mat. Richie’s throat goes dry.

“How’d I do?” Eddie’s little smirk is positively edible.  

“Marry me,” Richie croaks. “I was gonna offer to teach you to play but, uh…”

Eddie laughs. “Mike has that game,” he says, still smiling. “We play it all the time at his house. It’s even harder with the shitty fold-out mat.”

“Well there go my plans,” Richie says, throwing his arms in the air. “It was gonna be a DDR lesson. A sexy one. And you’ve gone and totally schooled me, so now I’m just gonna have to try to impress you with Halo.”

Mercifully, Eddie turns out to be absolute shit at first-person shooters, so Richie isn’t totally humiliated on his home turf. But Eddie creams him at the driving games almost as bad as he did at DDR. 

“Jesus, dude,” Richie says, watching Eddie punch his initials into the hi score list. EFK. “What kind of car do you drive?”

“Pffft,” Eddie shakes his head. “My mom won’t even let my get my permit yet.” 

“Wait,” says Richie. “How old are you?”

“I’m eighteen,” Eddie tells him. Shut the fuck up. No way.

“You’re older than me?! But you’re so short! I thought you were like sixteen.”

Eddie shoots him a baffled glare. “You know that’s not how it works, right?”

“Well, how old did you think I was?” Richie asks. 

“I guess I thought you were eighteen too?” says Eddie, shrugging. “I mean…” he gestures vaguely upward.

Richie raises his eyebrows.

“Alright, touche,” Eddie admits. “But seriously, how old are you? I’m gonna feel really weird if you’re just like, the world’s tallest freshman and you’re hitting on me.”

“Seventeen. I’ll be eighteen next month. So we’re practically the same age.”

Eddie nods. “But as far as driving, yeah. I don’t like, have my own car. So yeah, technically I could get a license but I don’t have anything to actually drive yet.”

“My dad gave me his old car and basically let me destroy it while I was practicing,” says Richie. “Your parents don’t trust you with their cars?”

Eddie hesitates for a second before looking away. “It’s just me and my mom,” he says quickly.

“Oh,” says Richie stupidly, feeling like an absolute tool. “Oh yeah, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie tells him, and it sounds like he mostly means it. “I was so young when he died, I don’t even remember him. It’s just that my mom…”

“She sounds like a hardass,” says Richie, drumming on the Whack-a-Mole console while Eddie grabs the mallet.

“It’s not— wham— that,” he says, eyes darting between the moles. “It’s like… My mom acts like she wishes she’d never even —wham— given birth to me.”

“Ow,” Richie grimaces. “Harsh.”

“No,” Eddie corrects. “I don’t mean it like— wham —that. Just that like I think she would rather they’d never— wham —cut the umbilical cord. Like she wishes we were still— wham wham wham —attached.”

“Yikes,” says Richie, because that’s all he can think of to say. 

“Big yikes,” Eddie agrees.

“I’m guessing you don’t go to Derry High, then,” says Richie, resting his head against the machine while Eddie continues to annihilate moles. “Makes sense that I never saw you around, cause I totally would’ve remembered seeing that ass before.”  

He hesitates before adding, “I even wrote some graffiti in the bathroom stalls so you’d recognize my handwriting.”

Eddie’s nose crinkles adorably at that. “First of all—no. I’m homeschooled. Maybe because my mom doesn’t want me making too many friends, or maybe even just to keep me from using public bathrooms.” 

“How do you know Mike and Curly then?” Richie asks.

“Cur—Stanley? Shit,” Eddie says as he misses a mole. “Mike and Stan are homeschooled too. We go to the same testing center in Bangor. And—ha!—I dunno? I sensed their gayness?”

“Yeah I sensed their gayness too,” Richie says. “By the way they were all over each other.”

“No, actually. It wasn’t like that. I knew both of them before they knew each other,” says Eddie. “I was there when they met.”

“Wow.” Richie uses his fist to hit a mole he thinks Eddie’s about to miss. “soul mark surprise?”

“Not really,” says Eddie. “Stan had a thing on his wrist that said, hi, I’m Mike , in Mike’s handwriting, so I kind of connected the dots and introduced them.”

“I’m the third wheel with Bev and Ben all the time,” Richie tells him, leaning over to collect tickets from the Whack-a-Mole.

“They’re not usually too—wait, what’s that?” Eddie asks, snatching something out of Richie’s back pocket. He unfolds the piece of paper.

“Oh, well, uh,” Richie says, thinking for the first time that it’s kind of embarrassing that he kept the list in the first place, “I just… Well, my soul mark said oh my fucking god, I hate that song, so I kind of like kept a list of songs I thought he—they might be talking about.”

Eddie snorts. “I have every single one of these on my iPod,” he says. “And that’s like, my all-time favorite song.” He points at I Knew I Loved You by Savage Garden. Oh god.

“Do you really hate Weird Al?” Richie asks him on their way to the air hockey table. “Cause I gotta say, I don’t know if this,” he gestures between them, “is gonna work out if you don’t want to hear the Angry White Boy Polka at least three times a day.”

“No,” says Eddie quickly. “Weird Al is great. It’s just, you know, the soul mark thing. Like I got it and I was like, what the fuck is this shit? And I guess it was kind of a relief when the song came out because I really hadn’t figured out like...what context I might hear that in. But then I just got sick of associating the song with like...true love. Cause it’s like, ridiculous and gross, you know?”

“I guess,” says Richie. “I dunno. I thought that was pretty fuckin’ romantic.”

“Yeah, I bet you did,” says Eddie. “That’s the kind of romance I’d expect from anyone who hasn’t watched Bing Crosby serenade Grace Kelly.”

“Damn, Eddie. You’re a pretentious little dick, you know that?” Richie says, picking up the puck.

“And you’re a goddamn mess,” Eddie shoots back without pausing. “Your serve.”

Richie is already balls deep in love by the the game ends. To be fair, he’s not sure how he was supposed to concentrate on the game with Eddie giggling and doing a little dance every time he scored. Eddie may have kicked his ass, but Richie walks out the door of the arcade feeling like he’s the one who came out on top. 

“What’s next?” Eddie asks, backing out the door of the arcade, catching his new sticky hand toy on Richie’s glasses on purpose.

“Road head?” Richie asks hopefully, jutting his chin in the direction of his car and grabbing onto his glasses to keep them from being pulled right off his face.

“You wish,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “I haven’t even decided if I want a second date yet.”

“Ah ha!” Richie points at him. “So you admit this is a first date?”

Eddie laughs and raises his eyebrows. “I dunno. Is it?”

“Let’s ask Johnny Rocket,” says Richie, cocking his head to the right. “Got time for a burger? We can split a milkshake.”

Eddie gives him a considering sort of look. “I could probably squeeze it into my schedule.”

Ohhhhhh the things Richie wants to squeeze… With great mental fortitude, he refrains from commenting. Instead Eddie opens the door for him and they grab two menus and a booth. 

“What are you gonna get?” Richie asks.

Eddie peers at him from over the menu. “Depends who’s paying. But we’re definitely not sharing a milkshake. I can already tell you’re a dessert hog. I’d end up getting like one sip.”

Richie laughs, running a hand through his hair. “God.”

“What?” asks Eddie, eyes already fixed back on the menu.

“Honestly? You.”

“Me what?”

Richie hesitates because it’s something he’s never talked to anyone about before. And for good reason—it’s fucking stupid. But right now, sitting in this Johnny Rockets…

“You know…” he starts, drumming his knuckles on the table, “I’m like, super bisexual. But I knew my soulmate was going to be a guy.”

Eddie puts the menu down. “Huh. Really? How?”

Richie shakes his head. “I dunno. It sounds really stupid but like… I don’t know if it was a dream I had or… you just. Like when I heard your voice and then you turned around in the theater…”

It’s so corny. He can’t say it. He’s playing with the straw dispenser on the table like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. How do you say you make me feel like, gooey inside and it’s fuckin’ nasty but also I don’t ever want it to end? Without sounding like a pussy, of course.

“Thanks? I guess?” says Eddie. “I mean, I still have no idea what you’re talking about but—”

“I’m really glad you’re my soulmate,” Richie blurts out. “Not just to have one, I mean. I’m glad it’s you. You’re awesome. Like...you’re totally knocking me off my fuckin’ feet here. And I hope you—”

The rest of his sentence is drowned out by Eddie leaning over the table and kissing him. Not like, full-on tongue kissing or anything. Just kind of a peck. But longer. Something in between. Soft, but definitely real.

And afterwards Eddie draws back, a little pinker than he was a second ago and then digs into his pocket, fishing out some quarters. He puts two in the little jukebox at their table, punches in a number and letter combo, and then sits back in his seat, shredding a straw wrapper between his fingers.

  I thought love was only true in fairy tales

Meant for someone else, but not for me

 Eddie looks like he’s trying as hard as he can not to grin, going even redder. Richie leans in and offers his hand. Eddie drops his straw wrapper.

  Love was out to get me, that’s the way it seemed

Disappointment haunted all my dreams

But then I saw her face—

 “You know,” Richie says, looking Eddie in the eye, “I like the Smash Mouth version better.”

  Now I’m a believer

 Eddie laughs and takes his outstretched hand. “I think I can live with that.”

[dark-sky-seraphim]

Taking a Chance - Part 4

This is my first WWE fan fiction. First of all, I’m terrible at writing accents so I apologize for not doing so in this story. Second, I’m open to constructive criticism so don’t be afraid to message either this blog or my main blog with any comments, questions, or suggestions (main blog is fallen-angels-and-broken-hunters). You can also find this story on AO3.

Taking a Chance - Part 4

Synopsis: After helping Roman Reigns fend off Drew McIntyre in the ring, you receive a note from an anonymous admirer asking you to meet at the hotel bar after the show. When you arrive, you are met by the one person you never expected to meet.

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,387

Warnings: Mostly fluff, mild language

You peek over Drew's shoulder and see Becky Lynch leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and a cheeky grin on her face. You tuck your head into Drew's chest as he peers over his shoulder. He bites his lower lip in an unamused manner.

“Don't mind me,” Becky chirps. “I'm just passing by to go get some ice.” She remains planted to the ground.

Drew turns back to face you, his cheeks bright red. “I'll text you later,” he mumbles into your ear. He gives you a little peck on the lips then quickly turns and heads to his room.

Your little smile immediately switches to pursed lips as you shoot a nasty look at Becky who is still grinning. You open your door. “In here. NOW!”

Becky pushes herself off the wall and saunters into your room. She clicks her tongue. “So...you and Drew, eh?”

“I thought you and Seth were arriving tomorrow,” you say in an attempt to divert the conversation.

“Change of plans. We got here about an hour ago.”

“You could've texted me.”

“Didn't think I had to,” Becky deadpans. “How did it happen?”

“A simple heads up is always nice.”

“When did it happen?”

“Come on, Becky -”

“How long's it been going on?”

“Enough with the questions!” you finally shout.

Becky sits on the end of the bed, shifts her eyes towards you, and smiles. “Talk to me. Please.” She gestures for you to sit next to her.

“First, you need to swear to me that you won't breathe a word of this to anyone. Even Seth. And especially Roman.”

“Y/N, you can trust me,” she reassures you. “It's not my place to say anything to anyone. You'll do it in your own time.”

Of course you can trust Becky. She's not a gossip like most of the women's roster. You tell her the events of the past week, from when you received the note to that very day. She squeals excitedly a few times as you tell your story.

“Wow,” Becky gasps. “You and Drew. I never saw that coming.”

“Yeah, you and me both,” you joke.

“So, how do you feel about him?”

You feel your cheeks burn hot. A small grin appears on your face. “I really like him.”

“Yeah?” Becky squeaks.

“I know he seems like a bad guy when he's in the ring but there's a lot about it that people don't know or understand. He's actually really sweet and funny and sexy and...” your voice trails off before you go on to say too much.

“Well, you two seem very cute together.”

You laugh softly. “Thanks.” There is a brief moment of silence.

“Okay, answer me one question – is he a good kisser?”

“And we're done here,” you panic. “See you tomorrow, Becks.”

“Oh come on,” Becky pleads. “Please tell me!”

“Not a chance.” You push her out the door. “Later.” The door slams shut. You immediately text Drew and apologize profusely for the unexpected interruption.

MONDAY NIGHT RAW – 1 MONTH LATER

Keeping the peace between Roman and Drew has been difficult. Drew is always easy to calm down and convince to back off. Roman, on the other hand, has been a lot of work. You've managed to keep him off Raw these past few weeks by telling him not to stoop to Drew's level or fall for his tricks (“Focus on Smackdown. Claim it as your yard.”).

Meanwhile, your relationship with Drew has been amazing. There has been something so exciting about sneaking hugs and little kisses backstage. Becky aways winks at you when she sees you together. Seth is convinced that there's something going on but no one will actually confirm it for him. You and Becky have found a new hobby in watching Seth as he deducts the clues and attempts to put the pieces together to prove, once and for all, that “they're in a secret relationship, damn it!”

You are feeling good on this particular Monday. You just finished a match against the always talented Naomi (it was a hard fought battle with you barely coming out on top for the win) and now you're waiting backstage for Stephanie McMahon to introduce you to your Mixed Match Tag Team partner. You and Drew have both agreed to do the tournament. While the chance of being a team was incredibly slim, you still had hope that Stephanie would see you as a good match.

“Y/N?” you hear from down the hall. Stephanie waltzes up to you. “I'm glad I found you. Ready to meet your tag team partner?”

“I was born ready, Steph,” you reply.

“Great. Right this way.” You follow her down the hall and around the corner where a few of the superstars are hanging out. She taps one of the guys on the shoulder.

“Oh, hey, Stephanie. Hey, Y/N. Good to see you,” the Miz chimes.

You smile half-heartedly. “Hi, Miz.”

Stephanie beams. “You two are going to be a team for the Mixed Match Challenge. I have high hopes for you. I think you're going to be the team to beat in this competition.”

“Ms. McMahon, Hunter needs a word with you as soon as possible,” a crew member informs her.

“Of course.” She turns to you and Miz. “I'll leave you two to get better acquainted.”

“Alright!,” Miz exclaims once Stephanie is out of earshot. “We're gonna be the best tag team ever!” He holds out his fist. You gently tap your knuckles against his. “Hey, you okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I'm good,” you reply unconvincingly.

“Are you mad that I'm your tag team partner?”

“No!” you quickly reassure him. “No, you're going to be a great partner. It's just...I was kind of hoping for a specific person, that's all.”

“Ah, I see. May I ask who you wanted?”

You wrinkle your nose. “I'd rather not say...sorry.”

“Hey, no need to apologize. I get it.”

“Thanks, Miz.”

“No problem.” He claps his hands together once. “So, we're gonna need a badass team name. How about we each do a little brainstorming between now and next week's show and we'll compile a list?”

“Sounds great. Although I should warn you that I'm not a terribly creative person.”

“Hello, you two!” a little Scottish voice chirps.

“Hi, Nikki,” you respond as she approaches you. “How's it going?”

“Great, actually. I just got assigned to my mixed tag team partner. I assume you two are a team?”

Miz throws an arm around your shoulders. “You bet your ass we are! Talk about one hell of a team, huh?”

“Yeah, you'll make a great team – just not as great as me and Drew.”

“Drew?” you gasp. “As in, Drew McIntyre?”

“Yep. Just think about it – Drew McIntyre and Nikki Cross: the Scottish dream-team!” She smiles proudly.

“Well, I'm not worried about you two,” Miz teases. “'Cause me and Y/N are going to be unstoppable!”

“We'll just see about that,” Drew purrs as he approaches behind Nikki. “Stephanie informed me that you two are our first competitors in a couple of weeks.”

You look Drew up and down; he's still in his wrestling gear. Damn those thighs of his. And those abs. And that handsome face. “Bring it on, big shot,” you taunt playfully.

“Ooh, Drew,” Nikki chimes. ��Let's go start putting together a game plan!” She grabs him by his wrist and pulls him along eagerly. “Bye guys!” She waves to you and Miz as they go by. Drew gives you a little wink.

“I saw that,” Miz accuses.

“Saw what?”

“Oh, please, you were eyeing him up the way a kid looks at candy.”

You scoff. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Miz rolls his eyes. “Mmhmm. Sure you don't.” He nudges your shoulder. “So he's the one you wanted to team up with, I'm guessing?”

A sharp breath passes your lips. “Yeah.”

“Hmm, interesting.” He leans down to your level, his eyebrows raised.

“Okay...well, I've gotta get going. I'll be sure to make a list of team names this week.” You hold up your hand and he gives you a high-five. “See you then.”

“Later.” Miz smiles at you as you turn away and head for the locker room.

So, Drew and I are on separate teams...this could be kind of fun...

***

Part 3     Part 5

[ktarima]

New Life: Chapter 1

Word Count : 2214

Rating : T (for mention of profanity)

Pairing : Julian x M!OC

Disclamier: All characters, settings and events are property of Pixelberry studios .

tag list: @choiceslife @griffinsbigdickenergy

Hey yall! Here's the next chapter of my fan fic ^.^ If you want to be tagged in the list, feel free to leave a comment. Enjoy!

Summary: Ben's first look of Berry High and meets a certain somebody that catches his eyes.Wow. First day of school and I’ve met the best principal I’ve ever seen. “Thank you Ms.Hughs. I hope I’ll enjoy my senior year here at Berry High.” I grin.

Principal Hughs pulls me into a quick hug. “Oh sweet pea, I promise you’ll enjoy every moment of your senior year here! Our students are so diverse and fun to talk to” She assures.

Wow okay, scratch that. Probably the friendliest principal I’ve met. “I’ll believe it, when I see it” I joke “I think my parents mentioned  something about a tour of the school?”

She claps her hands. “Of course! Let's get started right away.”

“Principal Hughs!” A voice shouts from across the hallway.She quickly turns around to see who it was.

“Good afternoon there Isa. How can I help you?”

“ Vice Principal Isa” She turns to me “ You must be our new student.”

“Yes ma'am,  I’m Ben Burton”  From the way she spoke, I assume Isa was the more strict principal compared to Hughs.

“ I’ve got my eyes on you. Don’t cause any trouble.”

“ I won’t?” slightly alarmed.

“Back on subject, Principal Hughs. There has been yet another accident in the science classroom. I need you to come with me.” Isa states.

“I’ll be right there” She turns back to me “ Sorry, duty calls. I’ll have Maria give you the tour instead”

“No worries.  I assure before Principal Hughs walks away.Someone remind me to not get on Vice Principal Isa’s bad side. I take the time to wander around the front lobby and admire all the photos plastered on the wall. Interesting choice of mascot… The Berry Tigers. I continue to wander until…

“Hi there. You must be the new student, Ben”

I turn around “Yep that…” I inhale sharply. For a moment, a faint memory of one of my closest friends renders in front of my eyes as I look at the girl standing in front of me.

The girl waves her hands in front of my face “Hello? We don’t have all day!”

I quickly shake my head and adjust my glasses. “That’s me. You must be Maria.”

She looks briefly at her watch. “We don’t have all day. Let’s get started with the tour.”

“Lead the way”

We proceed to walk down the various hallways as Maria quickly points out the different classrooms. I’m not gonna lie, I’m only paying half attention to what she says as I’m more distracted by her looks. Wearing a gray dress, she looked pretty unique with her tan skin, short black hair and a cute face.

… Am I sure I’m gay? I chuckle. Maybe its --

“So do you have any hobbies Ben?” Maria asks, interrupting my thoughts.

“Hmm? Oh yeah I have some.” I ponder for a bit “Mostly playing rpgs on my PS4… but I used to play sports and instruments when I was younger.”

“Did you now? Tell me more.” She asks, abit too excited.

“ Well… I swam on a team for about four years then tennis and taekwondo for another four years.” I could tell Maria was amazed. “As for fine arts, I played the clarinet in elementary then moved on to the violin.”

“Wow. You’re like the perfect student”

I laugh. “I’m hardly the perfect student.”

“Lucky for you, we have a lot of groups you can fit in with. We’ll wrap our tour with the extracurricular groups.”  

We stop at a hallway with Fine arts sign above the door. We walk down the hall as I hear faint piano playing. I peek slightly through the door to hear better.

“Woah” I whisper to Maria. “That’s some excellent playing!” The person continues to play a happy piece. “ Do you know the guy?”

“That’s Aiden Zhou. One of our talented band members”

Aiden finishes the piece and I applaud loudly. “Beautiful!” He stiffens at the sudden applause and gets up from his piano chair.

“Hey there Maria, who’s the person?”

“Ben Burton, our newest student this quarter.” She quickly introduces.

I offer a handshake “Nice to meet you. I have got to say, the way you played the piano was so nice!”

Aiden blushes slightly. “O-oh… it was nothing.”

“As much as we want to chit chat Ben, we have to move on with our tour”

“Aww, okay. I’ll see you around Aiden” I wave goodbye as we head out of the fine arts hallway. Maria quickly shows me the computer lab; where the video game group meets up, art , cheerleading room.

My stomach growls as we’re walking toward the courtyard. “Oof I’m a bit hungry”

“There’s a good diner around here called the Golden Griddle. That place has the best burgers in town.”

We continue to converse and as we turn the corner

“Nice! I’ll go chec---”

Before I could finish, I faintly see a football coming towards me and Maria. I hold out my hands to catch the football, until I realize too late that the football was meant for the student backing towards us.

“I got it!” The student says. Not realizing we were behind him…

“Woah!”

The male student collides into me with some force and we’re both sent falling to the ground. Another student runs to us.

“Oof. Watch where you’re going!” I chastise as I get up.

“I’d say! That was really dangerous Caleb. You know better to throw a football around in school!”

“Sorry Maria. We were just heading out for practice” Caleb looks over to me “Oh, you must be Ben,the new guy!”

He offers a handshake. “Yep thats me. And you must be?” I look over to Caleb’s friend.HOLY FUCK. If my jaw didn’t drop to the floor, it should have. Caleb’s friend is hot! His face was perfect, along with his built physique; hidden by his gray jacket. I grimace slightly as it reminded way too much of Devin.

“ Sorry about that Ben. Didn’t see you there. I’m Julian.” I shake his hand.

“Nice to meet both of y’all.”

“Oh snap Julian, we have to go. Coach is waiting on us” They quickly apologize again before leaving.

We proceed to the last spot of the tour in front of a tiger statue. “And here we have our school mascot, Ollie the Tiger”

“Aww cute name” I joke. I examine the plaque beneath the statue and the message read,

“This school began as a bunch of empty plots of land and a promise to be open to everyone, A promise that ensured no matter who you were, or what you liked, you’d always be included. And together, we can accomplish anything.” What a heartwarming message.

“Wow.. that’s a deep message! I like it.”

“Yep. Ollie means alot to us” Maria looks at her watch. “I’ll have to get going. My next class is at 1:00. I hope you enjoyed the tour.”

“ Of course I did!” I beam “Thanks again for showing me around.”

“Oh one more question.”

“Hmm?”

“ Do you have any plays on going to Homecoming?”

“Uh…” Well that was a question out of left field.  “Well…I don’t know. Do you want to be my date?”

Maria steps back in surprise “Are you seriously asking me to go to the dance with you? We just met.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You asked, so I gave you an answer.”

“I… I would never attend a dance with a stranger.”

I shrug. “For now , it’s just a maybe”

She scowls. “Great. So you’re another maybe. How am I supposed to plan a dance if everyone a this school might come to it?” She mumbles even more before exiting the courtyard.

I take a quick selfie with Ollie the Tiger before looking up the address to the Golden Griddle. Time for some lunch!

The drive to the place didn’t take long, about five minutes. I roll up to an empty parking spot and turn off the ignition. Based on the online reviews, the diner was a popular spot in town. “ Let's hope it lives up towards its hype.” I pull open the door and enter the diner. The diner is well decorated, giving off a vintage vibe. I choose a seat at the counter and briefly look at the menu.

An employee comes up to me. “ What can I get for  you today?”

“Uh… I’ll get combo meal number 1 and a strawberry milkshake” I hand cash to the employee.

“Your order will be out soon.”

I kill time by playing some Dissidia Final Fantasy Opera Omnia on my phone. Five minutes later, my order appears before me.

I start to drool. “Wow… online pictures doesn’t do this justice” I set aside my phone before taking a bite into the juicy burger. “Hmmmmmm” This burger tastes so good! Probably the best one I’ve had in awhile. I take a sip of the milkshake and I had to take another bite of my burger to prevent myself from screaming of how good the milkshake tasted.

As I’m finishing up lunch, my phone rings. I wipe my hands before taking the call. “Hello?”

“Hey sweet pea. How are you doing?” My mom asks.

“Great! Just got finished with lunch. How’s everything on your side?”

“For once, smooth. The moving company came right on time and we have everything organized.”

“Cool. I’ll come home so I can get everything set up … at least in my room” I joke. “Oh wait, can you text me our home address? I forgot to ask before leaving this afternoon.”

“Sure Honey.”

“Thanks. See you soon.” I end the call before getting up. “Thanks for the meal.”

“Our pleasure. Please come again.”

I exit the diner and got into my car. “Well today has been a great day” I muse. I turn on some music before driving back home.

Bringing my car to a halt along the side of the house, I turn off the ignition and got out. I walk to the front door and rang the doorbell.

“Coming!” A voice shouts before opening the door. “Welcome back, sprout.”

We embrace for a small hug. “Hey there dad” I step into the house and slightly blown away by how everything was in place. “Woah. Y’all work quick! Looks like just home”

“Thanks. I did most of the work” He brags.” Oww!” I look across to my mom pinching his ear.

“Yep. Your dad did all  the work. ”

I laugh “I’m certain he didn’t have any help from a certain someone.” I pat him on the back. “I’ll get started on my room.”

My dad laughs. “Good luck.”

I stride pass the living room and turn the corner. I stop at my door and open it to be greeted by four boxes in the middle of my room. I certainly did not pack that many boxes… I think.

“Mom! Dad! Did I really pack 4 boxes?” I shout back into the hallway.

“Yes! You did.” They shout back in unison

“I call bullshit” I mumble. I approach one of the boxes in the middle of the room. “ What could I possibly have packed before we mov-” I stop before realizing the contents of the box. The box contained gifts, awards, pictures, yearbooks from Bowie.

Who in their right mind would pack this ? … Probably me. I lament internally. I push aside the box and open the other three boxes to see what was inside of each one. Clothes, my book and trading card collection and my PS4. Alright this shouldn’t take too long. Thankfully, my room already had a closet and drawer built. I set aside the clothes into the closet; separating each item by category. I move to organize my book collection until the front door bell rings.

“I’ll get it” my mom shouts.

I faintly hear some greetings and continue on with my work.

“Honey! Ben! Come to the front door. Our next door neighbors would like to meet the both of you” She shouts.

I grin slightly. It’s one surprise after another. I head out from my room and to the front door. Poking my head from behind mom, we’re greeted to sight of a hispanic couple. I get from behind my mom and introduce myself to the couple. Remembering what little spanish I know…

“Buenos tardes señor y señora. My name is Ben Burton” I offer my hand. I couldn’t tell if they were surprised or impressed.

“Oh, you can speak spanish?” The man ask, taking my hand in a firm shake.

“Ah… a little bit” I confess.

My dad rolls his eyes. “Show off”

I shrug as I step aside.

“Hello there. My name is Lucas Burton. It’s nice to meet you.”

“ We heard we were getting new neighbors and just had to come over and introduce ourselves.”

The woman nods in agreement. “My name is Julia Ortega and my husband is David Castillo”

“Our soon should be coming over soon. Oh there he is. Hijo! Come introduce yourself to our new neighbors.” David beckons to his son.

I could not believe my eyes. “Wh--” I barely manage to whisper out. His son carefully steps in front of his parents.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr and Mrs. Burton. I’m Julian Cast-” His dark brown eyes meet mines.

“Julian?!”

“Ben?”

This has to be a dream

TBC

P.S: I may be going on a slight hiatus to focus on school ;-; sorry. Please look forward to the next chapter! ~

[monifrappe]

BTS Reaction: You ship them with another member

-Namjoon:

‘God, just get married already!’ You huffed as you stared at your phone.

‘Whose getting married baby? Do I need to get my suit cleaned?’ Namjoon asked, turning to look at you from his studio desk. You threw your head back against the couch.

‘Well I’d hope you would wear a suit to your own damn wedding Joon.’ You sighed, lifting your head to catch his eye.

‘Wait...what?’ Namjoons cheeks flushed red and his eyes darted around the room uncomfortably. ‘I love you and all Y/N but...I don’t really think either of us are ready for...’

‘No! Not me!’ You almost shouted, gaining an even more confused look from Namjoon. ‘Jin! You’re such a perfect match, it hurts.’ You sighed, trusting your phone in his face so he could see the picture you’d been looking at from a recent fan meeting.

‘I mean, I can’t deny we’d make a handsome couple.’ Namjoon laughed, before placing a kiss on your forehead. ‘But there’s only one person I wanna see walking down the aisle. Maybe not now, but one day.’

Now you were the one blushing.

-Jin:

You couldn’t help the smirk that grew across your face as you watched Jin and Hoseok meandering around the kitchen together, like a head chef and his assistant. Hoseok fell perfectly in line with everything Jin asked and even laughed hysterically at every dad joke Jin uttered as they cooked.

‘Pfft, and what am I chopped liver?’ You tutted sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

‘Huh?’ Jin asked, turning to look at you, blinking hard.

‘You two. You’re acting like teenage lovers. I knew I was right when I told everyone on Twitter that 2seok was real.’ You slammed your fist into your palm, proud of yourself for being right.

‘You say stuff like that on Twitter Y/N?’ Hoseok asked, a giggle evident in his voice.

‘I don’t think that’s the point right now Hobi.’ Jin said, turning to Hoseok and then averting his attention quickly back to you. ‘Stop having weird fantasies about us and help us will you? You know I only have eyes for you.’

‘Damn, am I not good enough for you Jin?’ Hoseok held his chest, acting heart broken, before the pair of you fell into fits of laughter.

‘Oh my god, you two are so weird.’ Jin shouted, the skin at the base of his neck turning red.

-Yoongi:

‘What. On. Earth. Are. You. Doing??!’ You screamed as soon as you walked into the dorm living area to see Hoseok and Yoongi dancing around hand in hand with the rest of the boys watching.

Yoongi immediately snatched his hand away and covered his reddening face with his other hand.

‘Oh hey Y/N!’ Hoseok said, signature sunshine smile adorning his face as if you had just walked into the most normal situation.

‘Care to join?’ Namjoon asked, patting a space on the couch next to him. Hoseok has already begun dancing around Yoongi to make him laugh and you could see from behind his hand that it was working.

‘Fuck. Why are they so cute together?’ You asked as you took your seat and crossed your arms over your chest, pondering your own question.

‘Sope. It’s real. You know Hoseoks the only one that can bring out this side of him.’ Jin stretched over Namjoon to tell you.

‘Yeah, you’re right. This ship has truly sailed.’ You sighed contently.

‘Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!’ Yoongi groaned.

-Hoseok:

‘So what do you think Tae?’ Hoseok asked, showing off his new Gucci slippers.

‘So cool hyung! Maybe I should get some too so we could match!’ Tae replied excitedly.

‘We should totally do that, it would be so cool!’ Hoseok was just as excited as Tae.

‘Wow, Gucci twins.’ The boys turned to see you stood behind them, watching them fanboy over fashion together. ‘V-hope. Cute.’ You added.

Both boys looked at each other and shrugged, approving the ship just as much as you did.

-Jimin:

‘Hey babe, can you...’ Jimin began as he walked into his room, but he stopped when he found you crossed legged in the middle of his bed, silent tears streaming down your face. ‘Oh no! What’s wrong? Did something happen?’ He asked, rushing over to pull you into a tight hug.

‘It’s just so beautiful.’ You sobbed into his shoulder, still clutching your phone to your chest.

‘What?’ Jimin asked, pulling away from you slightly and snatching your phone from your grasp. ‘Oh my god Y/N, not this Nammin crap again.’ He sighed.

‘I can’t help it Chim, look at you both. Visuals for days.’ You sighed, stroking your phone. ‘Can I get like a subscription to this? You and Joon need to send me a selfie every hour for the rest of forever.’

‘Why do you need a subscription, when you have the real thing right here?’ Jimin smirked at you, but frowned when you pouted.

‘Pfft, it’s not the same.’

-Taehyung:

‘TaeTae.’ You rubbed your eyes as the faint whisper of your boyfriends name woke you from a peaceful sleep. You almost jumped out of your skin when you saw Jimin on Tae’s side of the bed, tickling his chin to try and wake him up.

‘I love this friendship as much as the next girl Jimin, but he’s mine today.’ You mumbled, moving yourself closer to spoon your still sleeping boyfriend.

‘Nu-uh!’ Jimin whined. ‘He’s mine on sundays remember! We agreed.’ Jimin pouted.

‘There’s enough of me to go around.’ Tae groaned as he woke up and rolled onto his back.

‘Fine. You can have a Vmin day, but I’m tagging along and taking cute pictures of you together and there is nothing you can do to stop me.’ You concluded.

‘Sounds perfect princess. My two favourite people are all I need.’ Tae replied with a smile and a kiss to your forehead.

-Jungkook:

‘Honestly Kook, every single one of them is so whipped for you.’ You laughed as you lay stretched out on Jungkooks bed.

‘Y/N...they are not okay. It’s just because we’re like brothers, they think I’m super annoying half the time.’

‘Hmm...’ You sighed, ignoring him and flying off into your own little world. ‘Kookiemonster, Jinkook, Sugakookie, Junghope, Chimkook, Vkook...they all just sound so cute, how can I ever decide which to ship?’

‘Y/N shut up!’ Jungkook shouted. ‘They are so not whipped, none of them. Okay?’

‘Prove it. Shout hyung help, right now and see who comes running.’ You smirked.

‘Fine.’ Jungkook sighed. ‘Hyung! Help!’ He screamed at the top of his lungs.

Your smirk grew wider as you saw Jungkooks door fly open and all 6 of his older brothers appeared, panting with concern written all over their face.

‘Well fuck.’ Jungkook muttered.

-credit to gif owners-

[ronyxfic]

Educating the Victim - Act VI, Chapter XII

Pairing: Yellow Diamond/Yellow Pearl

Rating: Mature

Warnings/Tags: none for this chapter!

Read it on AO3! - Support us on Patreon!

Educating the Victim Masterpost

(Previous chapter) (Next chapter)

CHAPTER 12: Date

 Aurora was done for the day. She checked the clock: it was 6pm.

School was quiet. She was fairly sure that apart from the janitors, and her and Marigold, nobody was here anymore. So she got up and lightly knocked on Marigold’s office door.

 Marigold had been on-off staring at the clock for the past half hour. Her forehead knitted, belly giddy. She beamed at the door. "Come on in!"

 Aurora opened the door, smiling widely at Marigold.

“I... hope you don’t mind, but I got you flowers,” she said. “Um, it’s cheesy, but... they’re marigolds. I think of you every time I see them.” She held out a little bundle of flowers. “I have a vase as well, if you want them here.”

 Marigold looked at them and couldn't help smiling wider. "Goodness, I'm flattered. I love them. A vase would be appreciated, thank you so much." She then stood with a teasing look. "You should've told me, I feel rather empty handed."

 Aurora went back to get the vase, filling it up with water. “You can make it up to me by paying for dinner, if you want,” she said, smiling at Marigold.

 "That can certainly be arranged," Marigold replied, gathering her belongings.

 “Shall we, then?” Aurora asked, blushing. “Do you want to take your car or mine?”

 "I can take mine. I don't mind, though."

 “Yours it is, then!” Aurora said, beaming. “Got everything?” She opened the door, holding out her hand to Marigold.

 "Yes, hold on." Marigold took out her keys and locked the door. "Wouldn't want visitors."

 “Indeed,” Aurora said, blushing. “...sorry about that. Again.”

 "There's a lot we can forgive each other for." Marigold gave a curt sigh, but then a reassuring look. "I can't harbour resentment for it."

 “Okay.” Aurora held out her hand again. “Let’s go, then.”

 Marigold took it, allowing Aurora to lead the way.

 Aurora couldn’t help a goofy smile as she took Marigold to the car park. She still knew which car was Marigold’s. “You’ll drive, I assume?” she asked, letting go of Marigold’s hand and getting in on the passenger side.

  "Of course." Marigold seemed cheerful, when the ignition went on, the radio turned to Abba. "Oh, whoops, feel free to change it."

 "No, I like it," Aurora said, her heart warm. She cast a glance at Marigold, a soft smile on her face.

 "Oh?"Marigold pulled out of the school car park. "A fan? It's been five years and i don't recall you mentioning your music taste."

 “Oh. I... like most music, I guess. Though I’m a secret fan of triphop.” Aurora smiled a little sheepishly.

 "Haven't heard of that one. You crazy kids and your subgenres. I heard the girls gossiping about a wave of vapor? Is that a thing?"

 “Yes, vapourwave is a thing,” Aurora said. “It’s pretty good. There’s so many weird things floating around in terms of subcultures. I’ve lost track myself.”

 "I'm glad I'm not the only one." Marigold smiled. "I lost my passion for music when I stopped attending bridge club. I don't know, it just didn't feel like something I couldn't get passionate about if I couldn't dance to it with her..."

 Oh. “Claire?” Aurora asked softly. She gestured to the radio. “Oh yeah, Abba must’ve been popular in your day.”

 "In the clubs? Very." Marigold gave a nod, watching the road and coming to a stop by the traffic lights. "We had a lot of fun. I had a lot of energy for going out at your age."

 Aurora smiled, then hesitated.

“What was she like?” she then said softly, and added, “If it’s okay to ask.”

 "Claire? Oh -" Marigold gave a dreamy sigh. "A goddess. Tall, somehow near regal, powerful. She held any room she stepped in. And somehow I was lucky enough to receive so very much of her attention. I wouldn't be surprised if the others envied it."

 Aurora smiled, her heart aching for Marigold. “You must have loved her very much,” she said.

 "Yes. She showed me the world and asked for nothing back." Marigold then frowned. "Only, perhaps, my love. And I... didn't do anything."

 Aurora looked at Marigold. “I’m sure you loved her... you may not have called it that, but she must have still felt it. ... How did you meet her?”

 Marigold coughed. "Family reunion. Another layer of why I... couldn't."

 “Oh. Was she your... cousin?”

 "Very distant. I don't even recall what blood we share. She was pale as snow, too. When she wore eyeliner, her gaze would see your soul. She could've been a model."

 “Do you have pictures of her?” Aurora asked.

 "At home. I took a few when she was going through chemo with the camera she got me for my birthday that year. It's a Polaroid, one of the older ones."

 “I’d love to see them at some point, if you want to show me,” Aurora said softly. “It seems like she was a very important part of your life. I’m sorry to hear she died.”

 "It feels like a century ago. The world was a different place." Marigold pulled into a parking spot opposite the restaurant. "And I was a very different person. I have wondered a lot if you would have liked me if you'd met me at your age."

 “What were you like at the time?” Aurora asked, smiling. “You were probably really cute. I mean, not that you aren’t now.”

 "Naive. I didn't think anyone around me was... like me. It felt like I was completely different on every level from everyone I knew but... I was quite liberal for a while. Attended protests and signed petitions and things at university."

 “Oh? What was that like?” Aurora asked, her heart twisting in an odd way she couldn’t quite place. She couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “Were you an activist?”

 "Perhaps you could call it that. I was better known for my involvement in the war and battle reannaction society. You know, history major and everything. I ran it on my final year."

 “You did? Oh, wow! That’s amazing! What sort of time period?”

 "English civil war. Always loved to play a local cavalier general and murder Roundhead rebel scum for my King." Marigold took off her seatbelt. "One time I was able to persuade us to get actual cannons in."

 “Oh, wow. Was that... safe?” Aurora frowned, but she was still smiling. “Tell me more.”

 "Sure." She opened the door and walked to open Aurora's side. "Everyone knew when it was happening and when to avoid. We'd often spend hours in the heat, in some field in god knows where in Berkshire. I don't know how I did it."

 “Oh, wow, that sounds intense,” Aurora said. “Was Claire a part of that as well?”

 "She came to a couple, yeah. Always needed some extra numbers. Once it was all four of us and Roxy played King Charles getting beheaded. That was interesting."

 “So... Azure was a part of that group as well, wasn’t she?” Aurora said. “Who did she play?”

 "Oh God, it was so long ago." Marigold locked the door. "You'd have to ask her about all of it. Oh!" She looked at the restaurant interior. "This is quite lovely, isn't it?"

 “It is!” Aurora beamed. “Oh, yes, my table reservation.”

A waiter met them at the door. Aurora gave her name and he led them to a table in a little alcove. “I’ll bring over menus in a minute.”

Aurora looked around. “This is lovely,” she said, “I really like the interior. Nice pick, Mari.”

 Marigold looked proud and spied the drinks menu already on the table. "Oh, they have a really good juice selection, too. And goodness, their wines seem excellent. I'm still more than happy to drop you off home if you're feeling a little tipsy."

 “Oh!” Aurora blushed. “That... might be lovely, actually.” She had a look at the menu. “Well, you’re a bit of a wine connoisseur, aren’t you? Which one would you recommend?”

 "Depends on what you're planning to eat. Having meat?"

 “Hmm. Haven’t decided yet. Give me a minute.” Aurora scanned the menu. “Oh, wow. Quite a selection.”

 "Impressive, isn't it? Though their gins sound good too if you're looking for something a bit harder."

 “Oh, I do like my gin and tonic,” Aurora said, deliberating. “Maybe I’ll start with that while we wait for our food. I’m feeling fish, honestly.”

 Marigold nodded. "I'll have a cranberry juice."

  --

 Two hours later, Aurora was very full, and also a little bit more tipsy than she had intended on getting. Her cheeks were red, and she couldn’t stop smiling at Marigold.

“Shall we get the bill, or do you want dessert?” she asked.

 "I wouldn't say no to the cheesecake they're advertising." Marigold winked, taking out her wallet.

 “Oh!” Aurora looked over to the cake stand. “Wait... is it lemon cheesecake? Oh, I wouldn’t mind some... but I don’t think I can eat an entire slice. Would you consider sharing one?”

 "Of course. Anything to wash it down? A last drink before the road?"

 “Oh, that sounds like a great plan!” It was probably not a great plan. “They have cocktails, right? Oh, sweet.” Aurora looked at the drinks menu. “I wouldn’t mind going for a ‘Sex on the Beach’,” she said, meeting Marigold’s eyes with a small smirk.

  Marigold gave a chuckle, blushing. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Sure." She raised her hand to indicate to a waiter for the drinks (she ordered herself another cranberry) and cake.

 “The drink, Marigold. Get your mind out of the gutter.” Aurora giggled, blushing. “Will you walk me home? It’s only five minutes or so.”

  "Oh, I know. I wasn't implying anything," Marigold teased, putting a hand on Aurora's arm, gently touching her. "And of course. I think I can probably see it from here."

 “You could probably come up for a coffee, if you want,” Aurora spontaneously offered. The urge to ask Marigold to stay the night was strong.

 "Is anyone else home? You live with that girl now, don't you? Oh, thanks." She kindly nodded as the order was brought over.

 “Amethyst,” Aurora nodded, “and Pearl’s been staying over a lot, too. My little flat is getting quite crowded. But I don’t think they’ll mind.” That was probably not entirely true, but Aurora didn’t want to let go of Marigold. She turned her hand to hold Marigold’s, gently rubbing her thumb over her fingers.

 "It might be a little weird for them if their principal... sleeps with their sister and friend. I think I'll spare them the night." Marigold swallowed, but didn't seem too disheartened. "But this... this was nice. We could do it again. How is the cocktail?"

 “Oh. Uh, I wasn’t... necessarily asking you to stay over. I mean, you can if you want, probably...” Aurora blushed, fumbling for words. “But just coffee would be nice.”

She took a sip from the cocktail. “Oh, that is stronger than expected!” she exclaimed. “But it’s so good. I’m guessing you don’t want to try it. How’s the cake?”

 Marigold groaned into her hands. "Gosh, I'm sorry for misunderstanding! Yes, I could do with a coffee before driving home. The cake is good, zesty. Want me to feed you a spoonful?"

 “Oh!” Aurora blushed harder, took another sip of her cocktail. “Please.” She leaned over the table, holding Marigold’s gaze.

 Marigold could smell the alcohol from this distance. She had to fight the urge to ask for a sip.

And so she looked at Aurora, pretty Aurora, instead. "Here we go, say ‘aah'."

 “Aah,” Aurora said, opened her mouth. She couldn’t stop looking at Marigold. Her heart beat loudly.

 The piece on the spoon had a bit of everything - the lemon, filling and shortcake. Marigold looked at Aurora's lips and wondered what she'd prefer to taste. Cake or lips, cake or lips.

I can't believe I'm still in love with you.

"Tasty, right?"

  Aurora licked her lips delicately. “Oh, so nice! Such a sweet texture. Thank you!” She looked down at the cake, then up at Marigold. “Would you like me to return the favour?” she asked.

 "I'm afraid you'll have to finish it. I'm just too full!"

 “Oh, okay.” If Aurora was disappointed, she didn’t show it. “More for me, I guess,” she said, and dug in. “More cake to soak up the alcohol. I... am a little more tipsy than I expected, I must admit. I’m sorry.”

 "Oh, please. As if I could judge "

 “A good point.” Aurora drank more from her cocktail. “You’ll take me home, right? And keep me safe. How the tables have turned.” She still couldn’t take her eyes off Marigold. Couldn’t stop thinking about those lips. Marigold would taste of cranberry and lemon cake. Aurora’s cheeks reddened further at the thought.

 "Ugh, let's not reprise those roles completely, alright? Though, I'm happy to take care of you."

 “Mmh, please do. I’ve wanted that for so long.” The words slipped out. Aurora’s mind was too fuzzy with alcohol to stop them. “I’d love for you to tuck me into bed and kiss my forehead and wish me good night.”

 Marigold paused but then chucked. "Goodness, you sure are drunk. Well. That can also be arranged."

 “Oh. Yes, I am. I’m sorry.” Aurora giggled. “I’ll just finish this, and then we can go.”

 "No rush. It's fun... seeing you like this. And having you be comfortable around me again. It... means a lot."

 Aurora blushed. “You know, I never stopped loving you. Not for a second. I... I got close to attempting suicide, just after you quit alcohol entirely, and... it wasn’t because I was hurt... it was because I wanted to hate you so badly, but I couldn’t. I could never hate you. And loving you hurt worse than anything else in the world.” She blushed. “Sorry. Ah, you probably didn’t need to hear that. Sorry.”

 Marigold stopped. "You... never told me that."

 “Oh. ... oh. Yeah, I was... devastated. Felt like my life had no meaning without you... because you were my life. I drove to the bridge straight from your house. And Amethyst found me there. It’s how we met.”

 "Oh." Marigold couldn't quite meet her eye. "I wish I could've been there for you."

 “Oh, trust me, you were the last person I wanted to be there at the time. But it’s okay. You’re making up for it now.” Aurora smiled. “I’m so proud of you. Have I told you that? I am. It takes a lot to come out in your fifties and own up to your past mistakes.”

 "Didn't have much of a choice. I couldn't carry on living the same way."

 “But you’re handling it with so much grace... it’s like you’re not holding on to any of your previous beliefs. I remember when you’d sober up and...” Aurora swallowed. “I’m just glad you don’t feel that way anymore.”

 "It's a battle, but once the floodgates open, I suppose there's very little going back. It all feels just so... irrational now."

 “Doesn’t it just? I remember being a homophobic little girl. I don’t understand it now.” Aurora smiled, and finished off her cocktail. “Shall we get the bill?”

 "Sure. Feel free to go on ahead, I'll be just a second with it."

 “Oh, no, I’m waiting for you. I’m not leaving without you.” Aurora got up and put on her light jacket.

 "I'm just paying, silly." Marigold gently pressed her with a finger. "I won't be a minute."

 “Mhm, okay.” Aurora stumbled, and held on to Marigold’s arm for purchase. “Oh, it looks like I need some support. I guess I’ll need to stay here with you.” She unsubtly snuggled Marigold’s arm.

 "Alright," Marigold chuckled. She felt young again, apologising with a glance to the waiter. "Thank you so much, it was wonderful!"

 Aurora didn’t let go of Marigold’s arm until they were outside, where she let her hand slip down, intertwining her fingers with Marigold’s. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I had a lovely evening.” She looked up at her, her heart full of love and adoration.

 Marigold wasn't used to that look. Hell, she had made terms with never seeing it again.

"Of course. I hope that maybe it can become a habit if I'll start seeing less of you. If you're okay with that?"

 “Oh, please. I don’t want to stop seeing you just because I’m going to Uni.” Aurora swayed. “Whoops. Sorry.”

 "It's going to be lovely for you." Marigold held her steady. "There you are, careful now. Nearly home."

 “Oh, I’m not even wearing heels. This is embarrassing. But at least I have you with me.” Aurora leaned on Marigold.

 "Always glad to be a pillar of strength." Marigold smirked before looking up at an apartment complex. "This one, right? Do we need to buzz in or do you have your key?"

 “Yeah! I have my keys here.” Aurora fiddled with her pocket and eventually pulled out a key. “I can do this. Hang on. I’m not that drunk.”

 "Are you sure?" Marigold ruffled her hair a little. "I don't mind doing it."

 “Oh, fine, then.” Aurora leaned her head against Marigold’s shoulder and handed her the bundle of keys. “It’s that one.”

 "I wasn't expecting you to actually give up. You're not going to want me to carry you up, too, are you?"

 Aurora chuckled. “No, I’ll be fine. You’ll put out your back. There’s an elevator, though.” She tool Marigold’s hand again and led her to the elevator.

 "I'm stronger than you'd think." Marigold laughed, following. "Oh, I do wonder what your flatmates are going to say."

 “They’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

To Aurora’s disappointment, there were other people waiting for the lift. When it arrived, Marigold and Aurora squeezed in with the strangers, and Aurora kept hold of Marigold’s hand, but stood in awkward silence.

 Marigold felt herself tense up a little and pulled her hand away. She gave Aurora an apologetic look and mouthed a 'sorry'.

 Aurora smiled at her. ‘It’s okay,’ she mouthed back.

Soon enough, they were on Aurora’s floor. Aurora got off, beckoned for Marigold to follow her. Her hands were a little shaky, but she found it less difficult to unlock her door.

 Marigold could hear the sound of a film being watched inside. "Oh, awake that late on a school night?"

 “Oh, leave them be, they have a few days until their next exam,” Aurora said. “Hey girls!” she then called.

 "Hey Rori!" Pearl peeked her head out of the door and then bobbed back. Marigold blushed as she heard her yell to Amethyst. "She brought big yellow home. You owe me a fiver!"

 “Marigold isn’t staying the night,” Aurora said. “Unless you’ve changed your mind on that?” she added quickly, looking at Marigold.

 Pearl re-peeked out of the door just to watch Marigold's flustered reaction. "No, I'll be alright. Just wanted to make sure she was safe, girls. I'll be out of your hair, too."

Amy was now observing, too. "So, did the hair come first or did it happen after you came out of the closet? I’m asking for research."

  “Now, Amy, don’t be so rude to my girlf... date,” Aurora said, slurring. “I will... go make coffee. What would you like, Mari? Amy, Pearl?”

 Pearl and Amethyst looked at eachother, and then at Marigold, and then broke off into laughter. Marigold, instead, spied the bong on the bookshelf. She turned to Aurora. "I can probably do it if you want to get ready for bed?"

 “If you’re sure you want me to leave you to these... vultures,” Aurora said with a little sigh. “I can tell them to back off, if it’s making you uncomfortable.”

“Rude, Rori,” Amy called. “Just cus we’re invested in your life!”

 "The sooner I let them embrace the spectacle, the sooner they'll get over it." Marigold smirked at the girls and went to the kitchen. "Any mugs I'm specifically not allowed to use?"

 Aurora stepped past her, opening the drawer. “This one is mine, and this one is Pearl’s,” she said. “Amy doesn’t care, and you can pick whichever one you like. Tea and coffee is over here.” She smiled, and stealthily leant in to peck Marigold’s cheek. “I’ll be in my bedroom. First door on the right.”

 Marigold was then left with Amethyst and Pearl.

They looked at each other in silence. Marigold then coughed. "So, do you kids want tea... or...?"

"Are we never going to speak of this again or never going to let her live it down?" Amy asked Pearl.

"Not enough to embarrass her over. It'd be funnier if she was the drunk one."

Amy shrugged. "Agreed. Well. Diamond, you were right. This is incredibly boring and awkward. Gonna jet! Night."

Marigold watched her leave but noticed Pearl still standing there. "...Tea?"

 “Uh, sure. Lady Grey, Aurora should have some of that around.” Pearl awkwardly rubbed her neck, looked away. “Er. Did you... have a nice night?”

 Marigold nodded. "Yes, it was lovely to spend time with your sister again. Sorry if this is... awkward." The kettle started to billow clouds of steam and whistle. "Are you girls watching something nice?"

 “Just some cartoons Amethyst found. Little Butler.” Pearl laughed awkwardly. “Aurora likes chamomile,” she then said helpfully.

 "And don't I know it." Marigold laughed, "It's all she ever brings into the office." She then took three mugs and filled them with coffee and two different teas. It was only as she leant into the fridge she noticed Pearl still looking at her.

She looked just like Aurora. Eyes wide and looking at her, as if expecting something. But she also caught Blue in that look, too. Unlike Aurora, Pearl seemed to have the same gaze for trouble Blue did. As if she were searching for the next joke to make.

"I'm." She swallowed, not thinking of her words before they tumbled out. "I'm sorry."

 Pearl frowned, surprised. “Oh? What for? I mean,” she looked away, “not that I don’t think you have anything to be sorry for.”

 "I... don't think I was entirely appropriate with you. At all." Marigold felt herself tense up as she poured the soy milk. "The Quartz stuff and... the way I conducted myself around you. It wasn't alright."

 “Oh. Well, I suppose I get why Rori says you’ve changed now.” Pearl gave a small smile. “If it helps, I did my worst to encourage you despite knowing it was wrong. I... don’t think now is the time to talk about it, though. My sister is waiting for you, surely.” She came in and took the tea Marigold made for her. “Thank you.”

 "Of course." Marigold took the other two cups. "I hope that you still feel safe at my school, despite everything."

 “Well, I won’t be there for much longer,” Pearl said. “I’m off now to see what Amy is up to. See ya.” And then she was gone, leaving Marigold alone.

 Marigold watched her go and then tiptoed into Aurora's room.

 Aurora was sitting on her bed in her nightgown, taking off her makeup. “Oh, there you are,” she said softly. “I heard you talking to Pearl. Everything okay? – Oh, thank you.” She took the mug of chamomile from Marigold.

 "Yes, just had a little chat. I think it should all be alright. How are you feeling?"

 “Mmmh. Sleepy. Cuddly.” Aurora smiled up at Marigold. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay? It’s been so long since I had someone to cuddle.”

 "I want you to be sure you'd want to cuddle me if you were sober. How about we save it for next time?"

 “Mhm. Good call, probably.” Aurora still came close to Marigold, resting her head on her shoulder. “You should at least have your coffee, though.”

 "Yes. I won't leave until I've finished it, alright?"

 “Okay.” Aurora straightened up, had a sip from her tea. “Oh, this feels good. Thank you for this evening, Mari. I had a lovely time. We should do it again soon.”

 "I should have the next few weeks completely and utterly free with nothing to do but get anxious. I feel that I'll welcome this sort of distraction."

 “Heh, I’m glad I asked you out, then.” Aurora leaned in again. She closed her eyes for a moment, content.

 Marigold felt a rush of a desire to kiss her.

Control yourself.

"I hope you rest well. Have more water if you can."

 “I have some here,” Aurora said, gesturing to a bottle on her nightstand. “Thank you, though.”

She looked up at Marigold. Her heart ached, longed for her.

“Can I... kiss you?” she whispered.

 "If you want to." And instantly, Marigold felt like a blushing schoolgirl. Her mind briefly swam to her dream from a few days back.

No, this was real. This was nice.

 Aurora leaned forward, gently placing a hand on Marigold’s cheek and drawing her in, gently brushing her lips over Marigold’s. Her heart was beating out of her chest, her belly felt full of butterflies, and it felt like their first kiss – and in a way, it probably was.

 Marigold, for the first time, took the time to fell the pressure of those soft lips without the swimming numbness of intoxication and immediately knew that it was a memory she was going to cherish.

Why didn't I do this before?

She felt like weeping. She felt joy.

 Aurora broke the kiss for a brief moment, and then, as if she couldn’t help herself, came in to kiss Marigold again. She pulled Marigold closer, deepening the kiss, ready to lose herself in the way it felt.

 Marigold pulled back at this, giddy at the new hunger. "I don't want you to do anything you'd regret."

 Aurora only barely held back a little whine. “Aw, Mari...” She leaned in, tried to steal another kiss.

 Marigold let her. "Didn't you want me to tuck you in? I'm good at it, you know."

 “Oh, please do. But actually, I’ll finish my tea and brush my teeth first. How’s your coffee doing?”

 "It tastes like coffee but feels special. Probably because I'm with you."

 Aurora smiled sweetly and finished her tea. “Don’t worry about the mugs, I’ll wash them in the morning,” she said. “I’ll be right back.” She kissed Marigold’s cheek and left the room.

 Marigold watched her go and tidied the bed a little, fluffing a pillow.

She stopped and sat still.

It was the routine she'd do for Claire.

 Aurora returned a few minutes later.

“All ready,” she said. “Aw, this looks nice! Thank you, Mari.” She slipped under the covers.

 Marigold pulled the blanket over and pressed the edges of Aurora's mound of a body, cozily tucking her in.

"All comfortable?" Her touch was gentle, she softly swept a hand under her cheek and trailed it to her hair.

 Aurora looked up at her adoringly. “You were right, you are good at this,” she said softly. “I don’t... want you to leave.”

 "Oh, you'll see me at school tomorrow." Marigold petted her cheek. "And every day after that until the holiday."

 “Mhm, okay.” Aurora snuggled closer into the blankets. “Kiss me again before you go?” she asked Marigold.

 Marigold had moved onto gently stroking her hair. "Alright. Just the one. But.. you can ask for more when you sober up."

 “Oh, maybe I will.” Aurora reached up to touch Marigold’s face. “I... I love you,” she then said softly.

 "I love you too. Sleep well, alright? You can make me a tea tomorrow morning. Want me to bring muffins?"

 “Oh, that would be lovely. Get home safe, okay?” Aurora held on to Marigold’s hand. Still not quite ready to let her go.

 "I can text you when I've made it home?" Marigold replied, quiet and reassuring. "Goodnight, Rori."

 “Please do,” Aurora said. “One last kiss?”

 "Alright."