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scarlettriot · 3 years ago

Text

Stood Up

Pairing: Sero/F!Reader

Summary: When you find your dating making out with someone else at a Halloween party, Hanta swoops in and reclaims your evening, rekindling an old flame.

Contains: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Reader, Astronomy/Greek Lore Nerd Sero, Old flame

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Demi Problems, Praise/Smidge of Degradation, Name-calling (slut & whore), Pet names (Love, good girl, pretty girl), Car Sex, F Masturbation, Oral M Receiving (Road Head) I think that's everything

A/N: This took me much longer than I expected. It's also my first time writing Sero. Given the season, I decided to add a touch of Halloween and costumes to this one.

If you'd like to read other's in the Stood Up series, here are the links:

Stood Up - Bakugo - WC 3,502

Stood Up - Kirishima - WC 3,612

Stood Up - Kaminari - WC 2,461

Word Count Starting Below: 3,494

Denki Kaminari's annual Halloween bash was in full swing by the time Hanta had arrived. He'd come straight from patrol, wrapping himself up in his own tape making a half assed mummy costume for himself. Not like anyone would notice with the flashing colored lights, loud music, and abundance of liquor.

However, Hanta didn't even make it up to the double glass front doors of Denki's home. Not before doing a double take at the very familiar pirate that ran by him.

"Y/N?" You stopped allowing him the chance to catch up to you, "Holy shit, it is you, when the hell did you get back?"

Three years you'd been gone, working in America. Time differences and busy schedules made it so the two of you barely kept in touch. It was a shame, Hanta thought, considering how close the two of you used to be.

"I- uh- just a few weeks now. I heard you were helping out with the disaster relief after that storm."

It had to be his eyes playing tricks on him, the funny colors of the dancing lights were what made your cheeks look wet, right? Those couldn't have been tears.

"I was, yeah, but I got back yesterday. I didn't know-"

"Get the hell outta here!" His head snapped back towards the front of the house, just in time to see Eijiro, dressed in an impressive werewolf costume, literally throw someone out of the party. The guy drunkenly stumbled off, Eijiro walking over towards where Hanta was standing with you. "Y/N, you good?"

You nodded while Hanta tried to piece together what'd happened. "Sorry, it took me a second to find the bastard. Do ya wanna come back in? I'll make sure he leaves."

"No, Eijiro, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home."

The wolfman frowned but understood. "We'll have a smaller party for ya! Just the gang as a welcome home! You know Denki will look for any excuse to throw a party." He turned his gaze on Hanta. "A mummy, really?"

"You've been a damn werewolf for the last two years! You don't get to give me crap."

Eijiro poked the fuzzy pointed red ears carefully set into his spiky hair. "Mina and I worked real hard on this costume... seemed like a waste to only wear it once."

"We both know you haven't just worn those once, big man."

That got a chuckle out of you while all Eijiro could do was shrug and try to hide a shit-eating grin.

He asked you again if you'd like to stay and once more you said you were going to just head home. It was when you specifically said you were going to be walking home that Hanta spoke up offering to drive you back to your home since it was Halloween and people were creeps.

You were a damn pro hero but he still didn't feel right about just letting you walk home alone.

When you agreed he told Eijiro he'd be back soon and walked over with you to his car.

>>><<<

A part of you missed the old station wagon Hanta used to drive, not that this BMW he now drove wasn't absolutely amazing, you just sort of missed the comfort of the old car.

He waited until he'd reached the end of Denki's long, winding driveway to finally speak. "So, you wanna tell me what happened back there, or am I just supposed to pretend like Kiri didn't kick someone out on your behalf?"

"You could probably just ask Kiri and he'd tell you."

"I could, but, I'd like to hear it from you."

You knew you could tell him, there was nothing you couldn't tell Hanta. There was once a time when the man knew every single detail about your life. Sure, time and distance had put a strain on that relationship but you were back now. There was no reason why you couldn't at least start rebuilding what you and Hanta once had.

"Y/N, if you don't wanna say anything-"

"I was just casually seeing this guy. You know me and dating, how we don't always work out." You said abruptly and he quit talking, "And so, we weren't like official but we said we'd go to this party together. Well, I got here and went looking for him and found him making out with one of Hawks' sidekicks. I got a little upset when he noticed me and, well, he just said he found someone better."

Hanta actually stopped the car, pulled off to the side of the road, threw it in park, and looked right at you because he knew what found someone better meant exactly. You'd used those words in high school when that guy from Shiketsu that you'd been seeing got pissed off that you wouldn't put out and ended it with you. You went to his dorm crying because he 'found someone better', is what you told him. It took him a few hours to get the truth out of you.

You'd always been the kind of person to love with your entire heart but sexually, you'd confessed that you felt different from all the other kids your age back then. Not having the same urges and desires that everyone else seemed stricken with.

"Hanta, it's fine, really. Kiri heard the whole thing and, well, you saw what happened."

"Doesn't make it right! So, you went on a couple dates with a guy, that doesn't mean he just gets to expect you to put out for him! Even if you weren't demi, no one gets to just assume they deserve sex."

His lips were pressed in a narrow line, nostrils flared once in annoyance. He was usually so calm and laid back that you thought it rather cute when he got overprotective. "It's alright, Hants, really."

He still gave you a look that said he disagreed but then shook his head, dropping the subject for now at least.

"Still like those late-night drives?"

"I love them."

"Good."

Hanta waited for a car to pass and whipped the car in the other direction.

It wasn't long before he had the windows rolled down, conversations filling in the blanks of lost time, in between belting out choruses of your favorite songs. Minutes slipped by the further he drove, you lost track of both time and kilometers, letting him tell you all about the ridiculous antics the group had been up to.

Eventually, you caught the scent of salty air and even in the dark, you had a pretty good idea where Hanta was going. He followed a winding road, making two left turns and then a right leaving you on a stretch of road that paralleled the ocean.

You let your head fall against the seat, eyes falling shut and inhaling that wonderful smell you missed so much. Hanta had just one hand lazily on the wheel, his elbow resting out the open window, a relaxed smile was illuminated in soft orange lights off his dash.

You let your head roll onto his shoulder, not as easily done without the bench seat in his station wagon but it worked nonetheless. "Thanks."

His free hand came to rest on your knee, "Anytime."

He turned the wheel, pulling over and parking in front of a small beach access that you guys had found at 3 in the morning five years prior. Hanta kicked off his shoes, leaving them in the car to avoid them being sand-filled and you did the same with the knee-high boots purely because you longed to feel the sand between your toes.

The wooden planks were worn, parts buried beneath the sand until eventually, none remained. Breaking waves flooded your ears and you made a run for them! Before you could reach the lapping water though, tape had wound around your middle and yanked you backward.

"Not happening!" Hanta said firmly. "Last time I let you talk me into late-night swimming we didn't have a change of clothes either and we both got so sick! I think I might have actually died without Bakugo's soup!"

You chuckled, remembering being nineteen and curled up with Hanta on the sofa in the living room of the apartment you all shared for nearly a week. The sniffles didn't cease for almost three weeks.

"Okay, okay, no swimming." You flopped back down into the sand, his tape still attached meaning the cellophane hero was pulled down with you. "Tell me about the stars then, Hants. Who's out tonight?"

Astronomy was a hobby of Hanta's you learned about after moving into the dorms your first year. It wasn't uncommon to find him out on the roof most nights, laying on his back and looking up into the clear night sky littered with twinkling stars, usually with a joint pressed between his lips. It became almost a habit for him to grab you on his way up, pulling you along because you were more than happy listening to him tell you about each constellation and the stories behind them.

It was around this time of year, in your final year of high school; somewhere between him recalling the greek mythos of Aries and Sagittarius that you noticed your heart beating a little faster. You realized something had shifted between the two of you, and, holy shit, was this what it felt like to have a crush! When the hell did that happen?

You'd entrusted everything to Hanta back then, and now, laying in the sand shoulder to shoulder while he talked about Draco, that familiar feeling stirred again. You remembered what it was supposed to be like when you weren't forcing it for some random guy. How simple it was supposed to be.

You inclined on an elbow and he stopped mid-sentence. "Eh, everything alright?" You nodded but he looked anything but convinced, mirroring your position and asking you again.

It was easy for you to lean forward, to brush your lips against his for the first time in three years. And, when you pulled away, he looked about as shocked as he had the night you'd done it when you were eighteen.

"You- you still like me?"

When you left for America, you'd both agreed to put a pause on your sort of relationship. Free to date and screw whomever you pleased because three years was a long time and it just seemed like a fair decision to make. The realization that he might now have someone else special in his life dawned on you...

"Yeah but I totally understand if things are different now and I shoulda asked- oof!"

He kissed you so hard you toppled back into the sand, quick pecks, one right after another, ending them with a long one that nearly left you breathless.

"I didn't know how to bring it up. I didn't want to make you feel awkward about things or make you think I expected something. I thought that maybe since we didn't talk for a while your feelings might have changed."

"I can say with confidence they haven't."

"Thank fuck." He groaned and captured your lips in another searing kiss.

It was easy to lift his shirt off, the shreds of tape that remained were now covered with gritty sand that clung to your fingers as you traced the chest and torso you knew so well. Gliding over defined muscles, lingering on old scars and mapping out new ones he'd collected in your time apart.

His own hands were busy flicking open the brass fastenings of your corset, huffing about it being so much more difficult to get to your chest and something about it being very unfair.

By the time he'd undone the last one, bright headlights shown across the beach. "Shit."

Giggling ensued from the walkway and you both sighed, at least it wasn't the police or a hero patrol. Hanta gathered his shirt and ran back to his car with his hand in yours.

"I thought our days of being caught were over."

"At least it wasn't Mr. Aizawa this time."

A chill ran down your spine remembering the night and the lecture you'd received when your teacher had caught Hanta sneaking out of your room early one morning.

"So, uh, do you still plan on going to Denki's party?" You asked innocently enough but Hanta knew you far too well.

"I think I'm gonna miss it this year." His hand found a home on your upper thigh. "Apparently, you and I have a lot of catching up to do. Lost time to make up for and all that."

"Too bad you don't have that old station wagon anymore. If you did, we wouldn't have to wait to get back."

Dark eyes glanced over at you not so subtly parting your legs.

"I dunno. It's not too often I travel in the backseat of my own car but I've been told it's pretty roomy. Lots of legroom."

Your hand ran over your legs, dipping down to lightly brush your more sensitive parts, thankful you opted for the thin pair of black leggings rather than the dark skinny jeans. Your fingers danced again and this time you let a soft moan pass your lips. "Eyes on the road, Hants."

"That's a little hard to do when I've got you spread out in the passenger's seat." He grabbed your free hand and pressed it against the bulge in his pants. "You've got me distracted, filthy little woman."

You appreciated him testing the waters, a subtle way of checking if you liked those nicknames he used only in private with you, giving you a chance to protest if your likes had changed. They were one's that only felt right coming from him and you were eager to hear more.

Forgoing your own high, you leaned over the center console as best you could, undoing his belt first, followed quickly by his zipper letting his strained cock be free.

His grip tightened on your leg when you kissed the tip of him. "Just like old times, huh?"

A chuckle turned quickly into a moan, taking him in your mouth, pushing yourself further on his cock, fighting your gag reflex to get him down your throat. Hanta reclined his seat further, giving you more room to work with.

Your legs clenched tighter with every groan you pulled from him, wiggling your hips in the seat, letting a hand fall back between your own legs. There was an attempt of a moan around his cock when his fingers coiled in your hair. "Such a good slut. Keep fuckin' goin'." He let you continue at your own speed, needing to focus as best he could on the road rather than what you were doing but, damn, you were making that increasingly difficult.

He wasn't stopping you though. He rarely did. You'd sucked him off on countless drives before and only stopped when- "That's it." He lifted you off him by your hair at the same time he pulled off the road. There was a convenient turn-off, hidden by overgrown brush you noticed before he shut off the headlights.

Hanta took you by the chin, smearing drool. "Backseat, pretty girl." He reached into the glove box and pulled out a foil wrapper, "What do you say we test out that legroom?"

He wait to watch your smile grow wide before crawling into the back because he had to be the first to go if this had any chance of working. Once situated, pants under his thighs, he patted his lap for you to climb over.

You slid easily onto his lap, hands traveling up and over his shoulders, kissing hard while you rocked your hips against impossibly hard length.

There was so much comfort in the familiarity of him. It wasn't awkward to fall back into rhythm with Hanta, to remember that he loved the feeling of your nails dragging down his chest. And he was just as eager to get your shirt off, reach your breasts he'd missed so much, and get his tongue on your nipples.

Your head tipped backward, loving the pace he set, hips bouncing creating the perfect tug on your nipples between his teeth.

"Love, if I promise to buy you a new pair, can I rip these damn leggings? They're just so thin and-"

"Please." Your breathy moan had him smirking and with a single grunt the leggings were ruined, cool air from the vents had only a moment to touch your bare ass before Hanta's hands reclaimed it.

There was no way he hadn't felt your arousal before ripping your clothes off, you soaked through your panties and leggings, you knew that, but that didn't stop him from commenting on how soaked you were now on his fingers. "Want me inside you, whore? I think you do."

You nodded with a whimper and he slipped a finger in. "Hants, noo- I- I want your cock, please."

"You're gonna take my fingers like a good little slut first." You clenched at the words falling from his mouth. "So fuckin' tight you can barely take a finger. How'm I supposed to fit in here if you can even take a single finger? Need you to loosen up, alright." He pushed another finger in, scissoring the two inside you.

"This gonna make you cum? You need this bad, don't you? Tell me. Tell me how bad you need to cum."

"I want it. Please, please, I need it. I'm so close," You babbled and ripped the foil open with his teeth, rolling it with one hand on his cock. In an instant, his fingers had been replaced with this dick. Sticky fingers on your ass helping you ease down on him with a hiss.

"Fuck," Hanta let out a throaty chuckle, "You still fuckin' feel the absolute best." He dropped a kiss between your breasts, letting you adjust to his girth. "Perfect. Good girl. Such a fuckin' good little slut."

He wasn't about to last long. Not once you started bouncing up and down on him, your tits right in front of his face.

"Couldn't even wait for me to get you home, had to fucking tease me in the damn car." He held onto the fat of your ass, pulling you along him and slamming you down hard.

"Kinda pathetic how desperate you are. Fuck. Kinda hot too."

When the top of your head bumped the roof of the car, he scooted lower, trying to give you as much room to ride him however you pleased.

"What do you need? You wanna cum, don't you, pretty girl, what do you need?"

"Faster, faster please."

Hanta shifted even lower, making you grab onto the two headrests while he thrust his hips up into you at a rapid speed. His thumb on your clit was the additional stimulation you needed to fall over the edge. Nails clawing at the black leather as he continued to moan below you now chasing his own release.

You stayed poised above him, using every last bit of strength to stay upright until his mouth was rambling and his cock pulsed inside of you. Fingers bruising your skin before holding your pelvis snuggly against his.

He was bent in a way that looked entirely uncomfortable and yet he still smiled so widely. Reaching up to brush hair out of your eyes, "You okay?"

"Perfects, Hants. A little sore but I'm sure you are too." He moved off his lap, letting him slip out of you with a groan, "Is your neck gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Having you back, love, is more than worth a little bit of a neck cramp."

As he tied a knot in the condom, depositing it into a plastic bag he had tucked away under his seat, Hanta raised a brow, "Love, really, are you alright? Please, tell me if I hurt you at all."

"No! I'm good, why?"

"You're sitting silly."

You were sitting a little odd, perched on your knees rather than sitting on your ass because the leather was chilly and you told Hanta as much making him laugh. "Wait, I think I can help." He leaned back to the front of the car, flicking a button making it glow. Once he tucked himself back in his pants he hopped out of the car and you could see him rummaging in his trunk through the rear window.

"I keep forgetting to take this out from our camping trip a couple months ago. Guess it turned out to be a good thing." He laid the blanket down over the passenger's seat, declaring that should help a bit.

You wrapped the now toasty warm blanket around your bottom half while Hanta drove back towards the city, your head on his shoulder, his hand on your thigh.

"So, shopping tomorrow? I believe I owe you a pair of leggings..."

"It's a date."

#mha #mha smut #bnha #bnha smut #hanta sero #sero #sero smut #hanta sero smut #sero x reader #sero x y/n #hanta x y/n #hanta x reader #mha x y/n #mha x reader #smutober #kinktober 2021

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yeojaa · 4 years ago

Text

( NEVER LET YOU GO. )

You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud. Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don��t.

(or: Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)

pairing. tattoo artist!jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating. slice of life fluff, light smut. explicit (but only at the end).

tags / warnings. mentions of heavily tattooed!JK, casual drinking, tender lovemakin’, JK with the bad jokes, honestly just him being funny and chill like that one guy you never get over...

wc. 7.6k.

beta reader(s). @hobi-gif, @papillonsgf, and @yeoldontknow 💛 ty for always indulging me and most importantly, supporting me when i begin to spiral. 🤠

author note. i got this idea into my head one evening in the shower and now... it is this. it’s not your usual bad boy tattoooist!JK fic but i hope you enjoy regardless. as always, feedback means a lot!

You and forethought aren’t close friends. You really aren’t even distant cousins, or part of the same family tree. You consider it a stranger, wave loftily as it passes you by, squinting like you can’t properly make out what it is. Careful consideration? Thoughtful patience? None of that exists for you. At least, not when you really, really want something.

It’s what has you here now, bumbling your way into the tattoo shop like a newborn baby bird.

You wonder how it must look, whether the shop assistant is used to this. Random girl shows up on a Sunday afternoon looking like a fish out of water, eager yet afraid. By how she greets you - with a curious stare and not quite a smile - you’re sure she is.

“Do you take walk-ins?”

You’d meant to make an appointment. Had sat for hours on the shop’s Instagram page, combing through the residents’ portfolios, trying to decide who to reach out to. When you’d finally decided, you’d realised books were a thing and most of them were closed. (Just your luck.)

Still, it never hurt to try, right?

“Everyone’s fully booked.” The girl sounds bored, apathetic yet genial. (You don’t blame her.) By the way her stare swings over you, it feels like a dismissal. You’re ready to admit defeat - head half-bowed, words draped over your tongue. “But our apprentice might be able to squeeze you in.”

An apprentice? Well— that’s not exactly what you’d been hoping for, but this shop is reputable. Well-known. Considered one of the best in the city. Surely their apprentice would be fine. Just less seasoned, not as experienced.

You all but snap your neck nodding along, gratitude tumbling out in the form of awkward laughter. “That’d be great!”

The girl passes you off with a nod of her head, gesturing down the hall. “Last room on the left. His name’s Jungkook. His schedule says he’s all clear, but maybe knock before you go in.” It’s not the sunniest smile you’ve ever received, but the small thing she offers helps with the nerves. Stills them beneath your skin as you do as you’re told.

“Jungkook?” There’s not really anywhere to knock, every wall neatly frosted glass and no doors in sight. (You had passed a few folding screens but otherwise, it’s open concept, each room offering a glimpse into the artist who works inside.) It feels too disruptive to tap your knuckles on one glass pane, lest it interrupt someone else.

(His studio is minimally decorated but inviting: one big cabinet; two of those typical IKEA shelves in the 4x4 grid that every new homeowner and their mother have; and a shop table, upon which a black backpack sits. Various plants dress the room - both hanging from the ceiling and along the window - and Polaroids string over walls, held aloft by twine. A Roomba sits by itself in a corner and the tattoo bed dominates most of the space, positioned closer to the dividing wall; one teeny tiny rolling chair sits beside it. There’s a bench on your left, with a pair of Birkenstocks tucked beneath. All in all, very homey. Reminiscent of your own apartment.)

Hidden behind the bed, crouched low to the ground beside the cabinet, is a head of dark hair that speaks, drawing your attention from studying the cozy space. “Oh?”

You’re not expecting the face that turns to you, all big doe eyes and the sweetest dimples.

For a moment, you forget what you’re here for. Why you’re standing in the empty door frame, staring down at the guy like you’ve spent your entire life secluded and have no idea how to speak.

The longer you’re quiet, the more his concern seems to grow, single brow disappearing into his inky fringe. It hangs in his vision at certain angles, shields the brightness of his stare with each turn of his chin. “Are you okay?” He’s even risen - stopped what he was doing - so he can see you more clearly, without any obstruction in the way. Good for him, but worse for you.

He’s so cute. Were you prepared to look like an uncertain idiot in front of this… angel?

“Y-yeah.” You manage after what feels like forever, sweeping your nerves under the rug that sits on the floor, separates the sole of his sneakers from hard concrete. “Um— I was told you might have some time? For, uh, a walk-in?”

(Why’re you stuttering? You’re never shy. Or rather, you’re not this nervous mess. People have always called you an extrovert, outgoing as hell, a social butterfly.)

(You aren’t those things but you appreciate the sentiment nonetheless.)

“Oh!” Realisation dawns across his features, throws his kind smile into greater relief, and you have to actively tell yourself not to stare, tearing your gaze away to focus on the wall of stencils past his shoulder. He moves into motion then, stepping around the bed to meet you still rooted in the doorway. “Yeah, I’ve got time. Come in.” Up close like this - there’s only maybe two feet between you - you can make out the little scar on his cheek; the tiny beauty mark below his bottom lip; each individual lash that frames his Bambi eyes and flutters when he blinks. “I probably can’t draw you anything new right now but I’ve got some flash, if you’re interested?”

Even if you weren’t interested, you don’t think you’d say no. You were always a sucker for a cute boy and this Jungkook? He was that. In spades.

“Sure.”

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” He’s retreating back into the room, moving to grab his iPad off the far table. It’s balanced on his arm when he swivels to you, prominent front teeth on full display. “I’ve got a pretty big selection.”

When he drops onto the bench - a wayward vine above his head tickling his cheek - he gestures to the spot beside him. This time, you don’t stare for a stupid amount of time, instead taking up the seat without hesitation.

“So—” He’s swiping through the photo library with his Apple Pen. You’re sure there are pretty sketches on the screen - you just can’t focus on them, too preoccupied by the artwork that crawls across his hand and into the sleeve of his oversized, well-worn shirt. It’s an intricate chrysanthemum, impossibly well-shaded with bold colours that demand attention and stand out over his fair complexion; it creeps halfway up the back of his hand to tickle over his knuckles. He notes your attention with a quiet chuckle, fingers wiggling. The ink moves, flows, ripples with the motion, before his hand relaxes, knuckles unravelling as he offers the limb to you and your curiosity. “Do you like it?”

“It’s incredible.” It really is. You’ve never seen anything like it, as if a painting has been done across his skin, laid in watercolour rather than tattoo ink. “Did it hurt?”

(You almost want to hit yourself for the stupid question. Of course it did. It’s a hand tattoo.)

Jungkook only laughs again, doesn’t hold it against you despite the verbal barrage you’re faced with internally. “Like crazy, but it was worth it. This was my first tattoo and all the rest have just sort of been—” He shrugs, fabric of his shirt bunching around his collar.

“A piece of cake?” You can only imagine.

“Exactly.”

You nod thoughtfully, as if that means anything to you. (It doesn’t. You’re bare as a baby’s bottom, blemish free save for the occasional hellish pimple and the scar you have from surgery on your hand when you broke parts of it in sixth grade.)

If he can tell you’re talking out of your ass, he says nothing, redirecting your attention back to the iPad propped on his lap. “Do any of these interest you?” He’s resumed scrolling, swiping carefully through pages of flash. There are assorted floral pieces (plum stems, lily stalks, fully bloomed mums) and various skeletons (what looks like a deer, a dragon, a wolf). They’re mostly blackwork with fine lines and heavy contrast, so wonderfully detailed you spend too much time studying one piece before he’s flipping to the next.

“That one.” It catches your eye more than the others have. Likely because it’s one of the few pieces in colour, soft hues spilling over neat lines. A pretty little cat with a braided collar, big golden bell centered beneath its head, unravelling petals sweeping around it.

“You like cats?”

You do. “She looks like mine.”

“It’s settled.” He beams then, rising so quickly you’re startled; you watch as he moves around the space with decisive steps, putting your plan into motion. A paper is pulled seemingly out of nowhere, laid on a wooden clipboard and offered with a blue ballpoint pen. “If you can fill all of this out, I can get the stencil ready.”

Well, that was easy. Somehow, you’d thought it’d be more complicated, a ton of back and forth and yes and no. You can’t deny you’re nervous, staring down at the consent form.

(It doesn’t mean you read it any more than you normally would, though. You gloss over all the points, making note of what you’re agreeing to without really considering any of it. You’ve wanted a tattoo for most of your life. There’s really no going back now.)

(You just hope it turns out like you want - that you’re not just being blindsided by a sudden superficial crush and a lack of critical thought.)

“I think I’m done,” you mumble, slashing the date into the paper with gusto.

“Do you have your ID?” You’ve got it ready for him when he returns to take both it and the form. “I’m just going to make copies and then we can discuss more.”

He’s gone with that same smile, disappearing back the way you’d come.

Alone, the nerves set in. You’re actually doing this. Getting a tattoo. Putting something permanent on your body. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once, shaking your hands in your lap. Maybe you should’ve eaten more before you’d come. (You’d woken up late - had only shoved two pieces of raisin pinwheel bread into your mouth before you’d made up your mind about this.)

(But had you really made up your mind? Was this going to be it? It feels mostly like yes, though the repetitive thud of your toe against concrete seems to indicate otherwise. It’s as if you’re tapping out something in morse, telling yourself—)

“Okay!” Jungkook’s back before you know it, driver’s license returned to you along with an unsealed envelope. You eye it curiously. “A copy of your form and an aftercare sheet.”

He’s really thought of everything. Or the shop has. Either way, you appreciate that when you’re not so sure, caught somewhere between giddily excited and vaguely worried, as if someone’s pulled a weight off your shoulders, taken on some of the burden of this spontaneous choice.

“So, where do you want it?” It’s like he has a one track mind, utterly focused on the task at hand. (Probably a good thing, given you’re about to voluntarily let him needle your poor skin.)

You hadn’t thought about that. You’d always liked the idea of a back of the arm tattoo, positioned somewhere along your tricep so it could be seen while turned away. “My arm?”

“Upper? Forearm?” There’s not an ounce of annoyance or exasperation or anything else negative. He’s just genuinely curious, peering over his shoulder at you.

“Tricep area, I think? Would that look good?”

“If you like it, it will.” Then he grins - beams so bright you half expect the sun to come zooming out of his mouth - and laughs, a funny little cackle that makes you do the same. “I’m kidding. That was cheesy. But I’m sure it’ll look fine. We can try laying it down first, so you get an idea?”

“That sounds good.” A lot better than endless years of regret for poor placement.

“You’ll, uh— need to take your shirt off though.”

It’s then you realise your mistake: wearing a turtleneck. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence passes, then another, and he smiles so kindly you wonder what your expression must look like. Sour, like you’d sucked fresh lemon? Awkward, as if you’d never worn anything less than double layers before (a proud Never Nude)?

“If you’re uncomfortable, we can reschedule. Or I can put a divider up so you don’t have to worry about being seen from outside. Whatever you’d prefer.”

The longer you stay quiet - a seemingly common occurrence today - the closer his brows furrow, preparations coming to a standstill. You can tell he’s not trying to rush you, politely waiting for an answer with transfer paper in one hand and scissors in the other.

(If only he could peek into your brain, see the whole reason you’re hesitating is because you can’t quite remember which bra you’re wearing, whether it’s the slinky black one that offers absolutely zero support or the lacy blue one with the cute detailing and practically see-through cups.)

(Did it really matter either way? He was probably desensitized.)

“It’s fine.” You find the confidence somehow, nodding firmly. Jungkook’s still studying you carefully, though. Waiting as you strip your purse off your shoulder and reach for the hem of your sweater. It feels funny in your fingers, more like steel wool than sheep’s.

One breath. Two.

You fold your turtleneck neatly, laying it beside your bag and turning back to face him. “All right. Let’s do this.”

“So, which arm?” He’s close now - crossed to you in two strides of his long legs - and holds up the stencil.

Your right rises, fingers wiggling as if to say hello.

He lays the design down, pats it into place with deft fingers. You don’t realise the breath you’re holding until he pulls the sticky paper away, leaving neat line work in its wake.

“Oh.” It slips out of its own accord, almost a whisper as you stare at the design in the mirror. “It’s so pretty.”

There’s pride in his eyes as he stares with you, bounces his gaze between it and your face. “Thanks.” He lets you linger, peering thoughtfully at your reflection before speaking, casually hopeful. “What do you think?”

“This is it. Right here.”

Maybe he’d fist pump, if he were any less cool. As it stands, he simply nods, cheeks round like fresh baked bread, nose scrunched with glee.

“All right. We’ll shave you down and get started. You like the colours, right?” Once again, he’s buzzing around the room, gathering up all his materials and snapping black gloves on once everything is laid out upon his cart. It’s heavily stickered, covered in video game vinyls and anime mattes. (You recognise a handful of them, make a note to ask him where he got them from.) He pats the tissue papered bed top when you make no movement toward him. “Hop on up. Face down, if that’s okay.”

You do as he says, climbing atop with minimal grace. It takes you a bit of adjusting to get comfortable, folding your left arm under your head and allowing your right to simply dangle, uncertain of where it should be.

“You’re sparkly.”

“What?” You’d misheard that, right?

“Your skin. You’re sparkling.” He sounds a little in awe, surprised as wetness spills across your arm, the edge of a razor following closely thereafter.

“Oh.” Heat creeps over your cheeks, slinks all the way up into your roots and has you chuckling awkwardly. “It’s my soap.”

“Sparkle soap?” Whether he’s just making conversation or genuinely curious, you’re not sure. He does seem delighted by the fact, though, as if he’s never seen a girl covered in glitter before. (Which, fair.)

“It’s this specialty holiday soap. It has pigment in it.”

“That’s cool.” He’s laying the stencil down again, smoothing it over your now-hairless arm. “It smells nice.”

Obviously, you agree. It’s honey and citrus, brightly fragrant but not overpowering, lingering on your clothes like the subtle golden glitter does. Still, you flush, heat crossing from a casual day under the sun to burning-on-the-stove hot. “Thanks.”

“Was that weird? I hope not.”

“No, you’re fine.”

He hums a tiny noise, something that sounds like understanding and appreciation all at once.

Then the buzzing starts - a steady, inescapable brrrrrrrrr - and he’s gripping your arm, steady yet gentle. “Ready?”

Honestly, you’re not sure. Hearing the noise makes it seem scary, has your entire body tensing up like Pavlov’s dog. Your honesty can’t be helped, a nervous giggle chased off your tongue. “I think so.”

“I think so too.”

By the time you’re done - a good almost five hours later, your arm stinging so bad you wonder why you’d ever sat down in the first place - you’d fallen asleep twice, started drooling on your other arm once, and really, really have to pee.

“All right—”“ The incessant buzzing stops. Liquid spills where the pain centres, followed by rougher paper towel. “You are finished.”

(You might be imagining it, but he sounds about as relieved as you. Maybe because you’d been sitting for hours on hours, turning down his offer for a break because you just wanted to get it done and therefore forcing him to do the same.)

“Can I see?” You don’t want to leap to your feet - feel a bit too lightheaded for that - but you’re bouncing with excitement, the thrumming in your arm intensified when you shift to catch a better look at Jungkook’s face.

“Yeah, go ahead. Just be careful - you might be a bit—”

He’s right. You nearly topple over the moment you stand, none-too-gently rolling off the edge of the bed and barely landing safely on your feet. It’s only his close proximity that prevents you from falling to your knees, one degloved hand darting out to steady you.

“Careful!” It’s politely reproachful, coloured soft with worry.

“Sorry, sorry.” You seize the edge of the bed, gripping tight as you wait for everything to settle, the lightheadedness to recede. Everything straightens out quickly enough. “Got up too quickly.”

“Do you need a snack?” He’s already up, moving faster than you, rummaging through the cabinet against the far wall. “I’ve got seaweed and Choco Boys and shrimp chips and—”

You can’t help but laugh, hobbling to the mirror to inspect your new piece of art. “I’m fine.” That, and you’re too occupied with the ink that now sits embedded beneath your skin, a flurry of lovely colour and impressive line work.

“Choco Boys it is then.” The familiar yellow package is thrust toward you, a pack of his own already ripped open. Mushroom-shaped treats are tossed into his open mouth, lips curling around chocolate and his next words, “it’ll help with your sugar levels.”

A thank you comes, fingers curling around the snacks, but you’re still in deep, so focused on the lovely hue that bleeds over your skin, marks up previously unblemished flesh and holds your attention. It’s better than you could’ve possibly imagined, a piece of artwork forever yours. It makes you giddy as you stare at it - almost reach for it, but stop when you catch the alarmed widening of Jungkook’s eyes.

“You like?”

“I love.” You’d stare at it for hours, if you could. Likely will, once you get home, sitting in front of the mirror like a zombie. “Thank you so, so much.”

The brunet beams as he polishes off the last of his Choco Boys, tossing his dark hair back with a flick of his head. Triumph rolls off him in palpable waves, sitting pretty in the lines by his eyes, the scrunching around his nose. Seeing how it blooms in his stare is like a straight endorphin shot, as if you’ve done more than just be the canvas he’s laid all his hard work into. “It was a pleasure.”

It’s a whole month later - enough time for the piece to heal - before you decide you want another one. It’s not as spontaneous as the first time, instead led with an Instagram direct message to @jeonink. (You half expect him not to answer; you’re utterly delighted when he responds not five minutes later.)

Maybe it’s fate or maybe it’s luck that has him with availability the same day you reach out, bringing you back to the studio three hours after you’ve messaged him.

He’s just as cute as before, black baseball cap pulled low over his ears, silver-lined ears twinkling beneath the shop lights.

“So, what’re you thinking?”

Truthfully, you hadn’t done much thinking. Just like before, you’d decided you wanted a tattoo and, well, the rest had been history. You figured you’d let him have free reign, given how happy you were with your first piece. “A sleeve?”

That surprises him. His whole face lights up, eyes wide, mouth rounding curiously. “Like, a full sleeve?” It’s not necessarily a no - more of an are you sure? he hides between the syllables.

“I think so.”

He nods slowly, knowingly, arms folded over his chest, expression suddenly unreadable. “You caught the itch.”

Your own features twist, brows shooting high. “The what?”

“The tattoo itch,” he clarifies with a laugh, the sound sweeping your concern away like the sea. “People say once you get one, you get addicted to the feeling.” He’s extending both arms to you now, hands palm up. For a moment, you’re note sure what he’s doing. (In actuality, you’re distracted by the fact that he’s in a tee, muscle cording his limbs, undulating as he turns his arms over.) “I got bit by it when I lived in Japan. It’s actually what got me into tattooing myself.”

You remember what he’d said last time - how he’d spent a handful of years overseas, working in restaurants after having followed his last partner there. He’d shared lots about his life, giving you the Sparknotes version while you’d ground enamel to fine dust.

“I guess I have the itch then.”

“Guess you do.”

Your dream comes to life in four excruciating sessions. It’s some of the worst pain you’ve ever endured (you’re never going to get an elbow tattoo ever again) but you’d do it all again in a heartbeat, utterly in love with the mural that now lives on your skin. A peony caps your shoulder while one runs halfway up your bicep. Another takes up the entirety of your forearm. There’s a darling little bird and delicately inked koi. It’s breathtaking, greater than anything you could have dreamt up.

You’ve been staring at it for at least three minutes now, tracing over the freshly laid colour with a tender touch. You’re grateful for the SecondSkin, the clear bandage that wraps everything up and keeps it safe from your over eager hands.

“You did it.” Jungkook’s grinning at you, feet kicked up where he sits, his usual bag of Choco Boys balanced in his lap. “Big girl.”

From anyone else, it might sound condescending - might rub you the wrong way and have you glaring daggers. Instead, you take it in stride, beaming at him from your seat. He’s been there with you every step of the way, been there for every hour (seventeen over three months, to be exact) you’ve dedicated to finishing this beauty up. Tease you as he might, you know he really is proud of you.

“You mean we did it,” you return, giddy like a child.

“Ah, right.” The chocolate-covered snack he’s devouring goes crunch crunch crunch before he speaks, mouth still full, eyes crinkled. “I guess I did do all the work.”

“Hey! Screw you!” You’re glowering at him, middle finger raised in defiance.

(How curious that your relationship has grown like this, turned from tattoo artist and client to what feels like more. It probably makes sense, given the long hours you’ve spent together, the support he’s had to offer each time the pain has gotten this side of too much, chattering your teeth and dizzying your head. Solidarity in pain and all that.)

(You really had tapped out once, when he’d crept his gun into the ditch of your elbow. You’d asked him whether it’d hurt beforehand and he’d only laughed, shrugged off the question and continued with the careful shading to your inner arm. That in itself had hurt like a biiitch; you hadn’t thought it could get worse.)

(You’d been mistaken.)

“Am I wrong?” He drawls, full of laughter and that big dumb smile of his you’ve grown accustomed to. It eats up his cheeks and disappears his eyes, makes it hard to be mad at him when he looks so sweet.

“Yes, you are.” You’ve got absolutely nothing to back it up, but who cares. This is the sort of banter the two of you have developed, like two old friends forced to spend too much time together. (Not that you’d complain. You’ve loved hearing his stories, all the tales he regales you with whenever you’re in his chair.)

A snort is his answer, the full roll of his eyes over-exaggerated and playful. “You’re lucky we’re all finished or I’d sneak in an ugly fish somewhere on your arm.”

You think he’s kidding - know he takes too much pride in his work to do that.

Still, you stick your tongue out, hopping down from the bed with your freshly inked arm, hands clapping together in celebration. “You wouldn’t dare.” You’re confident, crossing to the bench to tug your flannel on, careful of the dull pain that throbs beneath the thin medical dressing.

“Wouldn’t I? I’m leaving anyway.”

You’re ready to call him out for it, insist he would never ruin the sanctity of his profession in such a way, when you realise the words he’s spoken, the casual tidbit he’s just dropped like it’s nothing.

“Leaving?”

(Is it you or do you sound disappointed? You can’t dwell on it for long, worried you’ll miss his explanation. Had he mentioned it previously? Slipped it in when you’d been delirious from pain? No, you would’ve remembered that. You swear you would’ve.)

“I’m moving to Tokyo.” How he’s so casual, you have absolutely no idea. You suppose it’s not a big deal for him - he’s not from here anyway. Home is back in Korea, the place he’d spent most of his life before moving to Japan and then here, just two years ago. (God, your memory is good. If only you’d retained knowledge like this when you were in school.) “My flight’s next weekend.”

Your face must be hilarious because Jungkook’s laughing, cackling like the evil villain in an anime.

“Gonna miss me?”

Would it be inappropriate to say yes? Because you will, you realise the moment he’s posed the question. You’ve grown to consider him a friend, someone who you send random memes to on Instagram (usually pertaining to #tattooartistproblems or one of your shared hobbies, like video games and finding the best noodle soup restaurant in the city).

You go for the safe bet, answering with a question of your own. “Are you gonna miss me?”

“I’ll miss your restaurant recs,” he answers, offering honesty to your reticence. “You can still send me funny photos though.”

You can’t help your laugh, the tiny quirk of your mouth into a smile. “I guess you’re right. Will you still be tattooing?” It’s an innocent enough question - you really do want to know. You can’t imagine going to anyone else, even if it means you’ll be shelling out an absurd amount of money for a plane ticket.

“Yep, new shop.” Something twinkles in his stare, has him giddy as he rises to his feet, tossing his empty packet of snacks into the trash bin. “Actually, where I got most of mine done.” You understand it then - that it’s a move of faith. He’s finally come full circle. You’re unbelievably happy for him, brimming with delight to mirror his pride.

But you’re still going to give him a little bit of a hard time because you have to. It wouldn’t feel right otherwise. “Whoa, big shot.”

“I am actually,” he sniffs, raking an ink-strewn hand through his hair. It’s longer now than it was when you met him, curling over the tops of his ears, hanging in his eyes at every turn. “You’ll be lucky if I remember you when I’m famous.”

“Famously lame, maybe,” you tease, slipping your bag over your shoulder. You busy yourself pulling your keys from the interior pocket, checking your phone as if you’re ready to go. It’s only when you’re standing in the hallway - you have no real intention of departing like this and he knows that, considering you haven’t paid yet - when you level him with a half-formed smirk. “But I guess I should take you for a drink?”

His hoodie is on before you know it, yanked over his head and tugged into place as he joins you. It’s become your regular routine - leaving together after your sessions, a perk of always booking the last slot he has available. (Not that you relied on that, but simply because your work schedule didn’t really allow for anything else.) “Obviously.”

Jeon Jungkook is a talented artist, a dedicated snacker, a lover of the colour black. You discover, sitting on the patio of the nearby bar, that he’s also really, really good at holding his liquor.

(Not that he’d ever indicated otherwise.)

“Do you think you’ll get anything else done?” He’s on his sixth pint, casually leaned back in his chair as he picks at the fries you’d ordered but that he seems perfectly happy to help himself to. (Payback for all the times he’s forced snacks on you maybe?) “Like, a face tattoo?”

You scoff at the question as if greatly offended. “You think I’d get a face tattoo?”

While a little glazed in the eyes, you can tell he’s altogether coherent, grinning across the table at you. “Hey, I don’t judge. You like making surprise decisions, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Okay, so he’s got you there. Used your own impulsive history against you. “I would never.”

“If you change your mind, do I get first dibs?”

“Dibs on what? Tattooing me?”

He nods as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “Duh.”

You can only roll your eyes, tossing a wayward burnt fry end at him. “Yes, Kook, you get first dibs on ruining my face.”

His expression twists, mouth shaping around words he’s keeping caged behind his teeth. There’s something he isn’t saying, a comeback he’s chosen to lock up. You wonder what it is.

“Hey - nothing wrong with face tattoos.”

“Really?” You’re leaning forward, a clear challenge written across your face. “Then why don’t you have one?” He has a million others as it is: a hand, nearly the entirety of both arms, his chest, his shoulders, one of his legs. (You haven’t seen them all in person but you have seen them online, memorialised on his Instagram feed.)

“And hide all this?” One inked hand is gesturing toward his own face, gesticulating wildly as if that’ll drive his point further home. “I would never.”

“That’s what I said!”

It doesn’t matter to him, not when he’s fully sober and most certainly not now, when he’s slightly buzzed, eyes glossier than usual. “But I’m cuter. It’d be a shame if it were me. You…” The way he trails off is suggestive, indicative of something mocking and mean. (Except it’s never cruel - far too friendly and soft to ever hurt your feelings.) “—not so much.”

Another fry hits him right between the eyes and then another disappears into the hood of his sweater, lost to the black fabric that bunches up around his neck and hides the flush he’s been battling since you two got to the bar an hour ago.

“Don’t be rude!”

He beams at you then, so unnecessarily endearing you can only throw one more piece at him.

“I’m kidding.” You knew that already but pretend to ignore the pseudo-apology, choosing instead to polish off the last of your now-cold fries. A bad choice, you realise when he continues, surprising you with the words that come out of his liquor-laden mouth so much so that you almost choke. “You’re actually pretty cute.”

(So what if you’ve sort of maybe been waiting to hear them? Wondering if the tiny crush you’d developed was in some way reciprocated?)

(Not that this meant it was. Only that you perhaps weren’t alone in thinking he was the most lovable - and somehow simultaneously hot - person you’d ever met. It’s almost rewarding to know the long hours together hadn’t left him unscathed.)

“You all good?” The look on his face is worse than that smile he usually offers, instead a devilish smirk that makes him look like Satan himself.

Were you? You’re not sure.

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Really? You can’t?” You’re not sure what that means, whether you’re simply reading too far into it. But then he’s dragging his bottom lip through his teeth, head cocked curiously. It’s a bait, you realise—and one you’ll gladly take.

“Should I have expected it?”

Shoulders hike, rising up around his ears. “I thought I made it sort of obvious.”

Had he? Thinking back on it, you can’t really recall. Of course, he’d always been friendly, indulging you in your pursuit of body art, sketching up the loveliest things you’d never even think to dream of; accepting your distracting Instagram messages without complaint, always tossing you a like or some sort of acknowledgement no matter what you’d send (and you’d send some random, random stuff). Chatting with him daily had just become the norm, conversation flowing freely whenever you’d pop in for your next session.

But that was just because he was a nice guy - or so you’d thought. You realise now how wrong you’d been, too occupied with your own crush to notice his (if it could be called that).

“You like me,” you hum, surprisingly nonchalant despite the little pitter patter in your chest, the flutter of your heart within your ribcage.

“I think you’re cute,” he retorts, though there’s no real weight to his rebuff. The two statements are really one and the same and you’re giddy with the knowledge, absolutely tickled pink.

Except for the fact that he’s leaving, fully prepared to start a new life in another city in just one week. The irony isn’t lost on you, like fate’s laughing even as she offers you this little crumb. (You feel like Oliver Twist, frankly.)

“Same difference.”

He huffs - you’re reminded of how adorable he is when he does that - and downs the lukewarm remainder of his beer. “I take it back.”

“No, you don’t.” Where the confidence comes from, who knows. You grip it tight with both hands though, hold it snugly as you level him with a stare that has his own unwavering. It’s almost as if you’re caught in a staring match, a battle of unspoken wits.

It drags on longer than it should, just the two of you locked to each other with nowhere to go.

Then he does the last thing you expect: shoves his chair aside and leans across the table, stealing a kiss and returning to his seat, all in the span of time it takes you to blink.

(His lips are so soft. A little chapped, a tiny bit dry, but soft - deceptively delicate. Bitter, touched with sea salt and something else distinctly him. French fries and beer and his Chapstick.)

(For the briefest moment, you wonder whether you’d just imagined it - if your imagination had truly gotten the best of you and you’ve absolutely lost your mind.)

“You just kissed me.” It seems like you’ve found your new favourite hobby of just repeating things, giving live play-by-plays like an awkward narrator in a romcom.

“Yeah, so?”

“You’re leaving.” Speaking the words into existence feels bad; you see the way his eyes tighten, the subtle sobering of his expression even while he tries to keep his cool.

“I am.” At least he’s realistic. It saves you from any uncertainty, keeping the what-ifs at bay.

You suppose it means you have nothing to lose.

“Do it again.”

And Jungkook does - over and over, sinking the taste of him almost as deeply as ink, offering a piece of himself you want to keep for just as long.

It takes you longer to add to your collection of art, nearly four whole years before you decide what you want next. (It’s a back piece this time - a full body suit from your shoulders down past your ass. Another cat, dressed in traditional Japanese clothing and surrounded by flowers. An ode to your first tattoo, to the one that had started it all.)

(You’re not sure you’re ready for the pain, though.)

“Lay down,” the artist instructs, back turned to you, busy preparing his materials. You’d stripped down while he was occupied, discarded all your clothes to the allocated basket and stood quietly in anticipation.

You do as he says, dropping atop the tattoo bed with a quiet oof. The stencil has already been laid, the entire outline ready to be inked into your skin. You can’t deny you’re more than a little nervous. It’s been years since you’d last gotten anything done, uninterested in finding a new artist since Jungkook had left.

(Which he had, exactly as he’d intended, gone on a 6 AM flight that you’d driven him to, teary-eyed and embarrassed. He’d laughed at you standing outside of the departure gate, his suitcase at his side, arms wrapped around your shoulders. You’d refused to show your face, burying it instead into the warmth of his neck, into the familiar scent of him that was going away for who knows how long.

“Stop being a baby,” he’d said, smothering you in kisses, the full weight of his laughter palpable through your close proximity. It'd rumbled out of his chest all the way into yours, finding a home behind your ribcage, right alongside where your heart fluttered, shaded blue and sad.

“Stop being mean,” you’d countered, petulant like a child.

It couldn’t be helped. You’d had only one week with him - one glorious, chaotic week filled with eating too much junk, rewatching your favourite animes, and generally making up for all the lost time you’d never even known there was. As amazing as it’d been, it still hadn’t prepared you for the goodbye.

That was your fault, though. You’d wrongly entertained the idea that maybe things would work out, that he’d change his mind or ask to take it - whatever you had, that is - with him, keep it going somehow. He hadn’t.)

“Do you have a preference where I start?” You’re unbothered, hair loosely knotted over your shoulder. Ready for the session to start - ready to feel the familiar sting again. (You’re proud of that. It might have taken you years and years but here you were, tackling something huge.)

“Nope.”

“Sounds good.”

The buzzing begins and pressure lands upon the small of your back, a gloved hand laid over the centre of your spine. You remind yourself to breathe in, out, focus on something other than the pain that fizzles over your skin and then ebbs into tenderness. Where he’s started - just above the fattiest part of your butt - isn’t too bad. Tolerable and yielding.

You can do this.

Your back aches in a different way than you’d anticipated, soreness buzzing beneath inflamed skin and making it uncomfortable to move around. It’s not any worse than your arm had been - the lines along your spine had felt comparable to that of your elbow - but it’s fresh, not dulled by years like your sleeve now was.

The artist is stripping his gloves off, your back neatly covered and the bed stripped of its original tissue paper. He’s leaned against the sink, onigiri held in his now-free hands, nibbling at the edge of the rice ball as you turn this way and that in the mirror. “You did good.”

You’re still undressed, admiring the linework from different angles, shimmying closer to your reflection to catch the lighter inking that makes up the undefined edges of the various florals. Something tells you that you should be shy - eager to redress after spending nearly five hours naked in the secluded studio - but you don’t care. Your back is quickly becoming a masterpiece, something that might as well be hung in the halls of the Louvre. You’re in love with it.

“Thanks.”

You mean thank you for his compliment but also for all his hard work, the long hours he’s put into bringing this beauty to life. It means so much - like progressing to the next level.

Which, you suppose it is. This is a fresh start for you. A new beginning in a new city.

“Proud of you,” he hums, suddenly close, broad palms searing heat over your hips. He’s careful to avoid the edge of the bandage that wraps your back and holds you delicately, like fine china or the most precious jewel in the world, lips sweet against your temple.

You meet his eyes in the mirror - the same sweet doe-eyed stare from five years ago. A little darker now, aged by the hand of time but endlessly kind, shining beneath the overhead lights.

“Proud of you,” you chirp, identical smiles spreading over your faces.

Jungkook’s having none of it though, bratty as usual. “Proud of us.”

You suppose you can settle for that. You really are proud of the two of you - for how far you’ve made it and all the obstacles you’ve overcome. From the first few weeks of sadness, all the melancholy that’d set in when he’d left, to exactly one month after, when he’d called you in the middle of the night, drunk and stumbling home.

(It’d been infuriating at the time - incoherent and foolish as he was - but it’d bloomed something between you, something neither of you could ignore.)

Four years of miserable long distance had become this: a love that's brought you back to his side, to a city you’re unfamiliar with but that he calls home; to a city that never sleeps, loud with pachinko machines and some of the best food you’ve ever had; to the place you’ve been missing every minute you were apart.

You’d never thought you would move for someone, uproot your entire life for a relationship, but he’d changed that. Made it worth it in ways you had never considered. Convinced you more and more with each trip you’d taken, two visits twice a year, for a measly two weeks at a time.

“Should we head home?” He means your physical home - the apartment the two of you had decided on in Roppongi, the one you haven’t seen yet, that he’s had to move into all by himself. It’s not quite as nice as the home in his arms.

You say yes anyway.

“I’m so talented.” The words come entirely too whole for your liking, loud somewhere above your head.

“Are you serious?” You’re levelling your boyfriend with the most incredulous look, whole face scrunched up, hands fisted into his dark sheets. It’s uncomfortable at this angle - kinking your neck as you look over your shoulder - but you really can’t believe he’s just said that. He’s knelt between your legs, knees spread wide around his own, his hand halfway up your back and tracking heat over your spine.

Somehow, he has the audacity to look surprised. “What?”

“You’re really patting yourself on the back right now?” Now, when he should be pounding you into oblivion, working that big fat cock of his through your fluttering walls, making you moan his name into his pillows like it’s his only job?

(It truthfully could be. You’d rank his skills in the bedroom on par with his skills in the studio.)

“Oh.” All at once, he’s the devil - sin personified. Or would be, if he didn’t somehow still look infuriatingly cute.

The gentle touch turns bruising, heel of his palm pressed hard into the tender notches of your spine. “You don’t like when I admire my own work?” Asked as he shifts behind you, length dragging out of your dripping cunt to gently tap against your aching clit. The head of it glides through your folds, mercilessly teasing but never slipping back in, never filling you whole like you need. (Because you really do need it. You haven’t seen him in six months, left to your own devices - literally.) It feels like heaven and hell, too good and not nearly enough all at once.

“Kook,” you snap. Try to, anyway, his name far too whiny and breathless to hold any real weight.

“I’m just admiring you, sweetheart.” He’s dragging the hand over your back, tracing all the lines he’s embedded into your skin. They make up his favourite piece, inked permanently into his favourite canvas. A testament to his hard work, his dedication, his love.

Any other time, you might not care. Here and now, after not having felt his touch in what feels like forever, you’re burning from the inside out, a million volts of electricity tripping your circuits. When you speak, it’s more a plea than a reprimand, uttered so sweetly you know he can’t deny you. “Admire me later.”

“I’ve missed you” is his only answer, punctuated by a fluid roll of his hips, the heavy press of his cock back into your dripping cunt. “I’ve missed this,” he breathes out, sinking all the way in, so slow you can feel every ridge and vein as he fills you.

“Missed you too,” you parrot back, a little delirious now that you’ve gotten what you want.

Now that he’s right where he should be - with you.

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle @xjoonchildx

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jin0 · 3 years ago

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Hi Jin ! I just started following you and I must say I love your writing 🥰 Can I ask for one of Andrew Garfield’s character ?

Just so you know, my name’s Florine (it means little flower) I’m a French girl, 24 years old (I’ll be 25 in March), brown haired with a few hints of ginger, green eyes, 5.3ft tall and pretty curvy.

I have been working as an English teacher for 3 years now, and I’m passionate about learning new languages, History, music, cinema and arts in general. I used to write stories when I was younger but I find it harder now that I’m an adult.

My sun is in Pisces, rising in Sagittarius and my moon in Leo. I can be quite shy and silent if not comfortable otherwise I love talking about my passions, sharing things with people and laughing all the time and I’m quite easy going if you don’t mess up with my feelings

I hope I wasn’t too long on the description, thank again for your writings ! ✨🤍

well hello there my french companion !! im french too sweetie, maybe i should write in french ?? ce serait peut-être plus comfort pour toi ?? idk ça fait un peut bizarre quand même 🤣

anyways !! to you dear, i give :

the national sweetheart, desmond doss !!

he'd been waiting for you, flowers in hand and a huge goofy smile on his adorable face. he'd been waiting for you, maybe ten minutes, maybe his whole life, no one would know. all we knew was that he was waiting for you like he always did.

you were an exchange student from france and your name had to do with flowers, so to attract your attention, the little ritual he grew was bringing you a different bouquet or flower each time he saw you. he could buy them of pick them up in a forest on his way to school, it didn't matter, he'd offer them to you with the biggest smile.

desmond was in love. that wasn't enough to cover it, he was head over heels actually. he had fallen so hard he was practically sure he had lost his head on the way.

it was something about you, the student who didn't dream of grand salaries and a perfect life, just peace and lovely situations. you were a simple woman with a big heart and beauty that would have legions at your feet. he was the first ready to die for you.

he was like your romeo and you were his juliette, but without the early death. no, you two would live forever together, growing old and seeing your children grow. he wanted children, with you specifically. his little flower. you pushed him to the brink of insanity with the amount of love he had for you. he was practically sure it couldn't be healthy but he would take the unhealthy speed his heart would take whenever you were around over a quiet and still one any day.

the poor man had been daydreaming so hard, he felt his soul leave his body when something tugged on his pants. looking down, he noticed a small child, looking up at him with a frown.

"are you one of the scary men who takes kids ?" asked the little boy, backing up slightly to protect himself.

desmond wanted to both melt at the cuteness and explode laughing at the implications made by this random child. he wasn't going to lie, the little boy was smart, a random man standing in front of a school with a very creepy looking smile did not always mean idiot in love. it mostly meant scary kid snatcher. desmond smiled and knelt in front of the boy before shaking his head.

"no, little guy. i'm waiting for a girl. she's my girlfriend, i'm in love with her."

the little boy frowned and tilted his head to the side.

"you love a girl ? and you're bringing her flowers ?"

"yeah, she likes them quite a lot. she's a really big fan of flowers actually."

sitting down on the bench behind them, the little boy pated the wooden board to invite the you man in love to join which amused him.

"what is she like ? my momma says that to be in love, the person has to ve amazing."

"she is. she's going to work with kids your age one day. she's studying to be a teacher in english."

"why ? we already speak english, no need to learn more. i don't like learning, i like to play in the garden. i like the bugs." declared the little boy, swinging his feet.

"oh, she isn't from here. she teaches english to little kids who don't know the language yet. and i like playing in the garden too but i gotta learn to become a doctor." responded the man, immersed in the conversation.

"yup and you should start by going to class first instead of skipping to bring me flowers."

snapping his head towards the voice, the older man jumped from his seat. he sped towards you, wrapping his arms around you and spinning you in his arms. his mouth attached itself to your forehead kissing you tenderly and feeling his heart jump at the sound of your giggles against his neck.

letting you down, he looked into your eyes, grabbing your jaw in both hands and kissing you tenderly. the feeling of your warm soft lips against him sent his entire being into shock, feeling himself move and exist through you. he'd missed you so much he never expected his lips to share the longing he felt.

pulling away, he frowned when you smiled at him with a knowing smile. he wanted kisses, you kisses, he needed them even.

"we have an audience darling." you smiled, pointing at the little boy holding a bouquet in his very small arms. "you introduce me to your friend des ?"

"oh absolutely !" sliding his arm around you waist, he lead you towards the little guy who stood on his tip toes to give you flowers.

"these are for you. he forgot them on the bench." declared the little man.

"thank you sweetheart. you two seem to be close ?"

"yeah, he's my friend. and he said he loves you. you're his girlfriend." repeated the little boy proudly.

desmond covered his red face when you looked at him. he hid it in the crook of your neck and tightened his grip around you, he felt so embarrassed to have such a badly kept secret revealed like that. you knew how much he loved you, but having a stranger reveal it this accurately just felt so different. just enough to turn him as red as a cherry.

pulling away from him, you knelt in front of the boy, taking a big box out of your bag. you opened it and the little child smiled when he was the freshly baked cookies.

"since you were so honest with me and my incredible boyfriend, i'm giving you two cookies. but don't tell, it's our secret." the little child nodded vigorously like a little bobblehead which made you giggle again. the size of his head was probably throwing him off balance. "d'you mind taking them to the teacher over there ? baked em for you and your classmates. I've got enough for everyone to enjoy more."

the child took the box and ran off at the speed of a tiny race car to give it to the teacher. while you watched him, desmond watched you, the love of his life.

"you, young man need to stop skipping classes to bring me flowers." you ordered, poking his chest and walking away.

"but i like bringing you flowers, petal ! that's how i say that i love you !" he countered, dramatically swinging his arms in the air.

"yeah, that way and the fifteen thousand other ways you find in a week, desmond." you laughed, remembering how he'd learned how to say i love you in latin for you.

he was going to talk back, trying to justify skipping class for you when you stopped him by putting a cookie in his mouth. his eyes never left you when you grabbed his jaw to have him chew. once he was done, you pecked his cheek and the tip of his jose then his lips. he was too stunned to speak or move, feeling how much in live he was for you surge through his entire being to drown him.

your soft hands and fingers were holding his jaw delicately and your eyes looking at him with this soft look that made him drop to his knees. you were killing him and he was ready to be buried if it meant dying by your hand.

"Instead of fighting me on this, help me bring the cookies inside and I'll give your own treat. okay desmond ?" you purred against his lips, sounding like you were pulled out straight from his dreams.

you did not need to tell him twice.

#•°jin's 1k sleepover°•#•° jin replies <3°•#desmond doss #andrew garfield one shot #andrew garfield #andrew garfield imagine #desmond doss imagine #andrew garfield x reader

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m-y-fandoms · 4 years ago

Text

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 1

Thank you to the client for commissioning me! This is gonna be a long one! I love Joker and Persona 5 is my second favorite fandom after Danganronpa! Exctied to be working on this.

Around 2.6k words, SFW, SLOW BURN romance friends to lovers, gender neutral reader, anyone can enjoy it and place themselves as the reader! - Admin Myah

Shujin Academy could be silent as the grave in the earliest hours of the morning, and yet seem so deafening. It was almost guaranteed that at least thirty new rumors were spreading throughout the student body at any given time, and the overwhelmingly hostile environment that created made the air heavy. With all the teenage angst, hormones, hatred, circles of venomous malice, it was no wonder so many loners could be spotted on academy grounds. That’s just how it was at Shujin: you either had a clique, or you had no one. It was no surprise, then, that you simply kept your head down, minded your business, and got to know no one. Miraculously, though, gossip abound about you still, at least two or three preposterous examples of hearsay and stories. But hey, what could you do? That was in all actuality, pretty low for a single Shujin student. God help the students who actually did make their opinions known, express themselves through clothing and cosmetics, and dared to swim against the current.

You shuffled through the first floor, the absolute blandness of that April morning perpetuating your usual routine: arrive at Shujin, check your locker, scribble down any notes and ideas that came to you in your dreams last night to put into your next short story, and of course check for new posts in the group chat, where your only friends resided. You wouldn’t be caught dead associating with anyone here at the school, it would simply be mental and social suicide, and quite frankly, you didn’t have the constitution for that.

Peeking up for a split second to avoid any collisions, you quickly slid to the left and ducked into a nearby alcove, successfully escaping the gaze of the oncoming wall of muscle and testosterone that was Coach Kamoshida, the plague of Shujin Academy. It was the best case scenario that Kamoshida remained ignorant to one’s very existence, for even those on his good side suffered the consequences. He strode by, shoulders wide and chest puffed out, scanning the halls for girls to harass or boys to intimidate, and once the coast was clear and he was a safe distance away, his back facing you, you dipped back out of the rather dusty corridor and back into the light, immediately slipping back into an almost mechanical daily ritual. It took mere seconds: phone screen unlocked, group chat opened, notebook slipped snuggly back under armpit.

“C’mon, man!” An obnoxiously loud voice rang out above the typical tinnitus-like buzz of the hallway, and suddenly your shoulder was thrust forward, body flying to the ground with a forceful shove on the shoulder.

“Aaagh!” Your voice cracked as your knees buckled and you collided roughly with the wooden panels below, your smartphone soaring out of your grip and clinking against the floor. Thank goodness your notebook was safe, at the very least. People gasped and turned to look at the spectacle, including Kamoshida himself, who’d just reached the end of the hall.

“Sakamoto! I see you running in the halls again, I’ll write you up!” He just always had to say something, let the general student body know he was in charge. He cared far more about sounding rough and tough than making sure the student who was just steam-rolled was uninjured. He pointed directly at you and the student that had just dashed by, effectively pummeling you to the ground with a shoulder check. You looked up and just ahead of you, Ryuji Sakamoto was pivoting on one foot, ignoring Kamoshida’s threat entirely to catch his breath and look down at his victim, splayed across the floor.

Ryuji Sakamoto, now that was one of those students mentioned earlier, the kind that dyed his hair, customized his uniform, and didn’t take shit from anyone. He was a pariah, pretty much the opposite of the teacher’s pet… teacher’s pest more like. Sakamoto was the subject of many falsehoods and conjectures, and he was sure to be trouble for anyone associated…

You looked him up and down, halting your unflattering and socially-altered thoughts in their tracks. Didn’t wanna become the very thing you hated. There was no reason to judge Ryuji without first-hand proof.

“Woah! My bad, sorry dude!” He held up one hand submissively, but unfortunately, just as with Kamoshida, it seemed that you were not his main concern either. Huffing and puffing from the sprint, he looked past you to another male student who was hot on his trail, but this one looked… different.

You’d gone to Shujin Academy for all of your high-school career. It was your third and final year before graduation, and you knew of Sakamoto well enough, but this kid was a mystery… was he new here? He must’ve been. You knew at least the face of every student here in some way or another just through Shujin’s own little eternal game of telephone, and not by any choice of your own. You actively removed yourself from the local goings-on. Was it his first day here, you wondered. Why hadn’t you heard gossip about him yet, especially looking the way he did?

Beauty was a curse - much like any other feature that stood out - at Shujin Academy. If you were too pretty or handsome, you must be sexually promiscuous. On the other hand, if you were too ugly, too nerdy, too quiet, you probably picked your nose and read hentai on the train. There was no winning in this soul-crushing wasteland. Unfortunately for this new-comer, he was outrageously gorgeous.

“Gah, sorry about that…” he sighed, slowing his pace as he passed you by, plucking your phone up from the ground and offering you his hand. You took it and stood with his help. A quick tug and you were to your feet, dusting off your uniform and thanking him for his assistance. “Yeah, no problem… Ryuji’s just… a bit eager I suppose” he chuckled. “Luckily, no cracks!” He turned your phone around in his hand before placing it back into yours.

“Isn’t that the transfer student??? I heard he nearly killed a man!” One random NPC-esque shithead whispered from behind.

“Oh God, figures that freak would gravitate to the new freak…” another responded.

Ah… and there it was. Why did fate hate you so much that it chose you as Sakamoto’s door mat on this day? You truly must have been fortune’s fool.

“Yeah, good thing…” You eyed the boy before you, taking in what you could of the new student before the short exchange was over, from his face to the delicate yet thick veins protruding from his lithe hands.

He was tall and thin, and would even be considered lanky if not for the lean muscle that lined his frame. He seemed to be better off than the average teen, sporting almost no blemishes or imperfections on his smooth skin. A black, messy mop of hair that looked soft to the touch sat upon his head, falling into his eyes and over the dark frames of his distinct spectacles. These spectacles did nothing to hide the true elegance that gleamed in the eyes behind them. They were a muted, soft grey that was beautifully simple and clean. His uniform was neat and tidy - as opposed to his blonde and brash acquaintance’s - with his pristine white turtleneck gently blanketing a quite prominent Adam’s apple and his school jacket buttoned and ironed perfectly. Lower down, his plaid slacks concealed thighs that strained against the fabric and long legs that ran down into some very - yet again - flawless dress shoes. Yep, that was a brand new uniform, sure enough.

And a brand new student… he just might make a good subject, a new inspiration for your writing, an aura unmarred by the stain this place put on one’s soul. Your opinion of him was fresh, it was new, unaltered, unbiased, and he really was quite beautiful… your mind played with the thought.

“Ah… sorry about this,” he spoke, taking in the whispers all around you, “I probably just ruined your reputation, what with being seen with me an’ all,” he sighed and laughed breathily, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. He must’ve been keen to the ways of Shujin already, which was super sad in its own right. “I’m Akira by the way,” he held out a hand, and you shook it hesitantly.

“Eh, doesn’t really bother me. It’s (Y/N), nice to meet you. Sorry you’re feeling the Shujin warm welcome.” That first part was only partly true, but the last half was genuine.

“Anyway…” his voice shook you back out of your contemplative reverie, and you came back to reality to find him also looking you over. Oh right… you were new to him as well… “I gotta go, Ryuji is kind of impatient, I’ve found.”

“Hey! Am not!” Ryuji retorted, brows furrowing before he ran off. Akira’s eyes rolled playfully, before he smiled, waved, and sped off.

You nodded, and quickly pulled out your phone, rushing to the glass doors leading to the courtyard. Anything to get out of the spotlight and harsh crowd of stares, plus, you had a sparkling new idea filling up your cranium, and artistic inspiration could not be wasted. Finding one of the benches placed for student recreation, you set down your school bag and impatiently scrambled for your favorite pen, throwing open your notebook.

“Oh, shoot!” You’d gotten ahead of yourself in all the excitement. Placing the moleskin down, you picked up your phone, hands trembling just a bit, and messaged you friends before anything else. They just had to hear about this.

＊

(Y/N) 9:55 am: Guys guys guys!!!

Itsuki 9:56 am: What do you want?

Rin 9:56 am: ???

Megumi 9:57 am: Shouldn’t you be in class?

(Y/N) 9:57 am: Shut up I have a free period just listen

You know how I’ve been having writer’s block?

Rin 9:58 am: Ya

(Y/N) 9:58 am: Well I just met this new kid, and ideas just started FLOWING.

Itsuki 9:59 am: Yeah

Megumi 9:59 am: Yeah we remember nerd

Oh that’s great!

Wait what do you mean?

New kid?

Only we can have you 😭 Don’ go switching up on us. Shujin is

toxic anyway.

(Y/N) 10:01 am: No no no It’s not like we’re friends, I just met him is all

You know you’re my one and only bby 😘

Itsuki 10:01 am: New kid???

Megumi 10:01 am: 😎

Itsuki 10:02 am: Gross

Also what about me!!!!

Rin 10:02 am: Me too 😡😡😡

(Y/N) 10:03 am: You two know you’re included in that???? 🤔🙄

Anyway just listen

I think he may be good inspo for my main character!!!

I was stuck looking for a unique look or face claim or something

But he seems nice enough and he’s good looking!

Itsuki 10:05 am: You got a crush? Awww I’m telling 😏😏😏😏

(Y/N) 10:05 am: I swear it’s like we haven’t been friends for years…

You know me, PLEASE don’t be gross

Writing purposes ONLY

Megumi 10:06 am: I thought you were stuck on the CONTENT, not characters and shit

(Y/N) 10:06 am: Both!!!! But he’s perfect for the look of my protag

Itsuki 10:06 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Megumi 10:07 am: Well I’m happy for you

STOP

Itsuki 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Rin 10:07 am: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

(Y/N) 10:08 am: I can see this conversation isn’t going to be productive

LMAO you’re assholes

＊

You tucked your phone into your pocket and once again picked up your notebook. Scrawling down some of the details you knew about Akria: his looks, the sound of his voice, the way he carried himself, you quickly became aware that you knew far too little… or rather

You wanted to know more.

Standing, you packed your things and set out to find him again…

Not in the creepy way! You thought to yourself, trying to justify this uncharacteristic choice of yours to actually reach out to someone in real life, to maybe… try to make… friends? You stood there, brows furrowed and a small frown on your face, pondering your options.

“Oh well, all artists must suffer for their work!” You resolved a little too promptly to try to force another encounter with the new kid. He seemed to be special, unique. He seemed to be well aware of the social hierarchy of Shujin, and have a distaste of it at least. Maybe he wouldn’t be… so bad?

Making up your mind, you spent your free period not writing of romance and rebellious characters, but searching for that fluffy-headed newfound hero to your story, however ghoulish and greasy that made you appear. You truly were becoming that “reads-hentai-on-the-train” and stalks cute boys freak your peers thought people like you were, weren’t you?

To your surprise (though maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising with the volume of Sakamoto’s voice) you soon found the gaggle of second-years, model-status beauty Ann Takamaki now added to their number, standing next to the stairs on the third floor, looking quite conspicuous to boot. Noting the suspicious air around the three, you pulled back, hiding behind the corner leading down the next hall. They seemed on edge... maybe now wasn’t the best time to make friends…?

You felt something thump in your chest. Your shoulders sank subconsciously. It felt a little disappointing, disheartening in a way you couldn’t explain. It was a bit intimidating: Ryuji the loudmouth with a temper, the hottest girl in the school, and the cute new kid. You sighed, this was why you never tried to make friends in the first place. Why had you even gotten your hopes up?

These irrational feelings of self-doubt clouded your heart, your head knowing better of course. It was hard to fight thoughts like these, especially for someone like you. On the precipice of making up your mind, deciding to give up and scrap the new novel idea altogether, you were jolted to attention by the sound of shoes scuffling and scrambling up the stairs.

Students aren’t really allowed on the rooftop during school hours unless accompanied by a teacher or given express permission, your thoughts swarmed. Maybe they didn’t know? No, there’s no way. There’s a possibility Akira didn’t know, but Ann and Ryuji had been here for two years... What were they up to?

Your nosiness was regrettably getting the better of you, and you slithered over, careful to pad your steps and tread softly. You didn’t even know what you’d do once you’d cornered the trio on the roof, didn’t know what you’d say. What was there to say? You were never too good with words, that is those not written on paper. Your heart beating out of your chest, you climbed the narrow stairwell and threw open the doors to the roof.

“Huh?” You looked around, dumbfounded. “Hello?” The rooftop area was not that large, all parts of it visible from the door.

There was no one to be found.

“What the hell?” You step forward, thinking you must have been the subject of some prank, but no, upon looking around, all three students were gone without a trace. No school bags, no lunch boxes, no uniform pieces, nothing. Akira, Ryuji, and Ann, all vanished into thin air. There were no hiding spots, none big enough for three people at least. It was dead silent, and only the door you currently guarded provided an exit off of the roof. Your mind wanted to wander to darker places, but if they’d have jumped, there surely would’ve been a commotion either during or shortly after. Frantically, you looked around, feeling like you were going crazy.

“What the fuck?” You pressed the palm of one hand to your forehead, sitting on the ground and crossing your legs.

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na-yiii · 4 years ago

Text

Manager-nim (Kim Taehyung x OC) 1/2

Pairing: Manager! Kim Taehyung x Actress! Named Female OC

Summary: Actress Kan Hayan has been part of the acting world as long as she can remember. Just when she thought her world was about to collapse, she gets introduced to her new manager, Kim Taehyung.

There was something off about him.

Rating: M

Word Count: 12K

Warnings: Non Con (r*pe). Yandere. Smut. Stalking. Sasaeng Behavior. Smut. Abuse. Obsessive Behavior. Gaslighting. Swearing. Eating Disorder. Puking. Pubic Hair. Weight-Shaming. Masturbation (male). Manipulation. Fingering (female receiving). Oral (female receiving). Blood.

Part two: click here to read

A/N: Hey everybody, this is my first yandere story. While writing this story, different ideas kept coming up. This resulted in making a few changes in the warnings. Read the warnings carefully before reading this story.

A special shout out to @deepdarkdelights for encouraging me to write this story and giving useful feedback.

Let me know what you think of the story.

“Hold it. Hold it. Hold it…and let go,” a young man dressed in black said while the arms of a twenty-eight-year-old woman shakenly gave up. As a result, her upper body dropped on the rubber yoga mat. She could feel her core muscles burning. “Good job,” the charming young man said while reaching his hand out to the woman. “I hate it when you force me to do planks, Jungkook” the woman complained while putting her hand in the man’s hand. “Hey, I am just following the workout program,” Jungkook chuckled and watched how the woman pushed her bangs to the side.

Drops of sweat were visible on her forehead, some even slid down her face and eventually landed on the rubber yoga mat. It stunned the twenty-seven-year-old man how a woman could look so beautiful after an intense work-out routine. “You did well today, Hayan,” the doe-eyed man said while he turned around and grabbed a bottle of cold water. “Do you have to be on set tomorrow?” Jungkook asked as he offered the bottle of water to Hayan. With a smile on her face, Hayan accepted the bottle of water and took a few sips. When the cold liquid moistified her dry throat, the young actress felt euphoric. Instead of answering verbally, Hayan decided to take a few more sips while nodding. Jungkook chuckled when he was satisfied with the silent answer.

Once the bottle was empty, Hayan grabbed her towel and wiped away the sweat on her forehead. “Are you done for today?” Hayan questioned while she ran her thin fingers through her thick black hair. She slightly cringed when her hand touched the sweat on her head. “Unfortunately not, I have two more sessions. One with Yoona and afterwards another one with Jihyun,” Jungkook said while taking off his black cap. Gently he ruffled his long dark brown hair. “They are fun, so you won’t be bored,” Hayan said as she collected her stuff. “True but I just want to go home, eat some spicy ramen and play Overwatch,” Jungkook told the actress. The thought of ramen almost made his mouth water. Hayan chuckled. “Lately I have heard so much about Overwatch,” the celebrity informed her trainer while her mind reminded her the last time she saw an Overwatch ad. “Yeah it recently had a new update with new features,” Jungkook told her while he looked at her. “I see. Anyway, thank you for today,” the twenty-eight-year-old thanked the black-dressed trainer as she threw her towel over her shoulder. “It was my pleasure, Kan Hayan” Jungkook said and smiled at her. Hayan giggled when Jungkook said her full name with his thick Busan accent. “Have a nice evening, Jeon Jungkook,” Hayan playfully imitated his accent. Even though her imitation was impressively spot-on, it made Jungkook laugh. Hearing the actress speak in an unusual manner was always funny to him.

Quietly Kan Hayan walked through the hallways of the sports center. Usually, she would take a quick shower to get rid of the sweat but today the actress was in a good mood so she decided to deal with perspiration a bit longer while she walked to the nearest elevator. During her walk to the elevator, the young actress encountered a few fellow celebrities. Politely she greeted them. She respectfully bowed to her seniors and initiated a short conversation with her juniors. Even though Hayan has been living in the famous and luxurious apartment complex, Jinju Haneul, for a year now she still gets surprised when she sees a fellow celebrity.

Jinju Haneul is a high-quality residential compound that reflects the characteristics of wealth to the maximum extent. From the inside the floors were made from marble, walls were decorated with expensive paintings, crystal chandeliers were hanging from the ceiling and at every corner there was a statue of an influential figure. Even the stairs looked expensive. The apartments had a marvelous view over the Han River. There was a forest nearby where the residents could go to for a peaceful walk without getting bothered by the average folk, curious fans, or nosy reporters. The large building included a gym, an art gallery, daycare center for the celebrities’ children, a movie theatre, and a shopping mall. It was the perfect place if you were part of the group of people who made one million dollars annually.

Hayan looked at her Chanel watch and saw it was almost 9 PM, which means her mother will soon wake up from her nap. Hayan’s mother had some odd habits but since she is her mother Hayan just dealt with it without showing any complaints. Currently, Hayan was not in the mood to deal with her mother. The young performer was not sure whether her mother would be in a good mood or not. So Hayan decided to go to the park to get some fresh air and enjoy the peace while it lasted. With her arms crossed over her chest, the black-haired actress made her way to the nearby forest.

It was a quiet evening. The weather was on the warmer side while a gentle breeze occasionally caressed Hayan’s cheek. There were not many celebrities in the forest, which something Hayan did not mind. Occasionally, she crossed paths with a celebrity mother and her child but other than that Hayan enjoyed the solitude and silence. After walking around for some time, Hayan sat down on a wooden bench. She looked up at the night sky hoping to see some stars but unfortunately, there were no stars to spot.

While Hayan sat on the bench and enjoyed the warm weather, her mind started to wander. With eyes focused on the gravel, her brain reminded the actress of her child actor days. The days when she used to feel uneasy being surrounded by adults. The times her classmates used to bully and ostracize her after Hayan made an appearance in a commercial for a new type of ramen, which was also the same commercial that kicked off her acting career. Some days, the young actress wondered if it was a fair trade to exchange her salad years for her current fame. From time to time, Hayan wondered what her life would have looked like if she had never caught the attention of legendary movie director, Bae Jae-Hwan. Would people have looked at her differently if she had never played in the famous drama, Why Roses Are Never Green? Would she be dancing and drinking in a random club in Itaewon with her friends from college, instead of being trapped in this exhausting lifestyle?

As Hayan slowly delved deeper in her thoughts, she did not notice a dark figure arise from the bushes. Suddenly Hayan felt uneasy, it felt like someone was watching her. The sound of a snapping branch woke her up from her thoughts and brought her back to planet earth. The young superstar looked to the left and saw a silhouette. The silhouette belonged to a man. It was a tall man with broad shoulders. It looked like the man was holding a bag in his hand. Something that caught Hayan’s attention was the man’s bright red hair.

“Can I help you?” Hayan asked hoping that the voice of the stranger might reveal his identity. But alas she did not get any response from the mysterious man. The performer was not sure whether she should call the security or not. The silhouette just stood there. Hayan could feel his gaze burning on her skin. Suddenly the red-haired man started to move and walked towards Hayan. Anxiously, the film star stood up and walked in the opposite direction. She cursed herself when she realized she did not have her phone with her. When the footsteps came closer, Hayan’s heart started to beat faster while her brain tried to come up with an escape plan.

A scream came out of Hayan’s mouth when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. “Hey, are you all right?” a familiar male voice asked her. The female celebrity opened her eyes and looked at the concerned face of Lee Min Ho. “I saw you walking and you looked quite distressed. Is everything okay?” the famous actor asked Hayan while she looked around. There was no sign of the red-haired man. No footprints, no objects that possibly belonged to the man, just nothing. It seemed like what just occurred never happened. “Yeah, I am fine,” Hayan told to Minho and gave him a reassuring smile. Lee Min Ho’s presence made Hayan feel safe again. If the red-haired man decided to show up again, at least now she does not have to face him alone. “Did you spot a reporter?” Minho asked while he looked around, trying to find something or someone what might have caused Hayan to feel anxious. But alas, there were no signs of disturbances.

When Minho offered Hayan to walk her to her apartment, she gladly accepted the kind offer. The two superstars walked next to each other while talking about their latest projects. Once the two former co-stars stood in front of Hayan’s apartment, they wished each other goodnight before parting ways. Hayan’s worries and nervousness melted away when she closed her door behind her. She felt save in her golden cage.

The ticking sound on a keyboard was the only sound that could be heard in the dimly lit room. The source of the light came from a small green desk lamp that was placed on a wooden table.

A middle-aged woman stared intently at the laptop screen. Suddenly she stopped typing and looked up. “Come in,” the woman said and watched how the brown door got pushed open. Her son entered the room.

“Good day, son. What can I do for you?“ the middle-aged woman asked while she looked at her teenage child. “Mother can you do something for me?“ her son asked when he sat on a chair in front of her.

“What is it, dear?“ the woman asked curiously. The young boy grabbed a picture and placed it on the wooden table. It was a picture of a familiar face. A face that the woman has seen multiple times on her television screen.

“Can you make sure she gets accepted?“

It has been now a week since the incident with the red-haired man. The past week, Hayan did not go back to the park. Which was something she was unhappy about, the park was something the actress loved about Jinju Haneul. It was a place where she always went to when she needed to escape her chaotic life or avoid her mother’s outbursts. But Hayan feared that she might encounter the mysterious man again. She could not stop wondering what would have happened if Minho had not been there. Would the stranger have asked her for an autograph and then left quietly? Or would the stranger have disregarded her boundaries and attacked her? There were so many things he could have done to her. The day after the incident, Hayan reported the event to the security team hoping they would quickly capture the intruder and bring back the peace. Unfortunately, it was not her first time being confronted by a confused stranger. The young actress has had her fair share of getting bothered by obsessed fans.

Hayan has been dealing with sasaengs ever since she had her first big break at the age of nine when she starred in a movie alongside with veteran actor Chun Ho-Jin. She still remembers the day when a confused woman showed up at her school and attempted to kidnap her, luckily her father was there to protect Hayan. The incident impacted the nine-year-old girl immensely. So much so that she had to go to a therapist to learn to cope with it. One of the worst incidents she experienced was when she was nineteen. A male fan gave her a plushie during a fan meeting. Initially, the gesture seemed so innocent. The plushie looked so cute that Hayan decided to keep it but the kind gesture was just a cover-up. At the end of the day, she discovered there was a camera inside the plushie. That experience made her sick to her stomach. Causing her to suffer from insomnia for almost two years.

A deep sigh escaped from Hayan’s lips as she folded a pink handwritten fan letter and put it back in its envelope. It was a quiet afternoon in Seoul. Hayan finished early today, which was something she was happy about. She had been on set since 5 am. With little sleep and barely any food in her system, she had to film scenes that were physically exhausting and intense due to all the running and fighting. Hayan put the pink envelope in a box and grabbed another fan letter she received today from her fans, who were waiting for her outside the movie set.

Gently she opened the envelope and pulled the letter out of it. The moment Hayan opened the letter, a metallic and slightly sweet smell entered her nose. When the letter was fully unfolded, a bunch of short black hairs fell out of the letter and landed on Hayan’s hands. A few hairs fell from her hands and landed on her pink silk Burberry dress. Surprised Hayan looked at it but quickly her stomach turned. The black things were pubic hair. Shocked the young actress grabbed a tissue and wiped the black pubic hair off her hands and dress. She felt so dirty knowing that someone else’s pubic hair touched her. Hayan looked at the letter.

Do not talk to Lee Minho, princess. You are mine!!

The words were written in red. Horrified the performer stared at the letter while she tried to remember if she had seen a red-haired man today. No matter how hard Hayan tried but she just simply could not recall a moment when she had encountered the mysterious man. The metallic smell interrupted Hayan’s train of thoughts. A wave of nausea hit her when she realized the letter was written in blood.

Hurriedly, Hayan threw the letter in the nearest trash bin. Without thinking too much, Hayan grabbed the remaining fan letters and threw them in the trash bin. Her skin was crawling while her stomach tried its best to keep her lunch inside.

“Hayan!”

A feminine voice echoed through her luxurious apartment. Hayan recognized the voice, it was her mother’s voice. Hayan took a few deep breaths in order to calm herself. The superstar looked at the trash bin. I will call the maid after this, she thought to herself while she stood up and made her way to her mother.

“Yes, mother?” Hayan asked when she stood in front of her mother. Without saying anything, Hayan’s mother grabbed the young actress by her arm and dragged her to the bathroom. “Take off your clothes!” the middle-aged woman commanded while pushing the superstar closer to the scale. “What?” Hayan asked confused while she tried to understand the situation. “Take it off!!” her mother yelled while looking angrily at her daughter. Afraid and confusticated, Hayan took off her clothes. When she stood naked in front of her mother, she felt uncomfortable. Shivers ran down her spine. Hayan was not sure whether it was because of the chilly bathroom or her mother’s coldness. “Stand on the scale,” Hayan’s mother ordered and watched how her twenty-eight-year-old daughter moved closer to the scale.

Hayan’s mother sighed disappointedly when she saw the number that was shown on the scale. The silence between mother and daughter was killing Hayan. Moments like this she wished there were a script so she could give the appropriate reactions to her mother. Suddenly Hayan’s left cheek started to burn while a handprint became visible on her cheek. Her mother hit her. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want you to weight above that bloody number?!” the middle-aged woman yelled while she grabbed her daughter’s long black hair and roughly moved Hayan’s face to the scale’s direction, showing her the evidence of something her mother deemed as a sin.

“I am sorry,” Hayan said while tears started to escape from her eyes. After having seen her mother’s ugly side, Hayan was taught it was better to show no reaction. For her safety, it was better to endure her mother’s temper tantrums. But currently, Hayan could not help but let her emotions take over her. She had barely any chance to recover from that terrible fan letter. “Do you want to be seen as a whale?” Hayan’s mother questioned while tightening her grip. When Hayan did not respond, the middle-aged woman got furious. Aggressively, she dragged her daughter to the sink. “Spit the food out that you had earlier!” Hayan’s mother commanded. Hayan stood there while staring at the sink, not knowing how fulfill her mother’s wish. When Hayan’s mother lost her patience, she raised her hand and hit her daughter once again. “SPIT IT OUT NOW!” Hayan’s mother shouted while digging her long nails into Hayan’s skin causing it to bleed. Terrified Hayan attempted to force herself to puke but her body refused to cooperate. Suddenly her mind reminded her of the nasty letter she received a while ago. The blood and pubic hair flashed in front of her eyes while her nose was reminded of the nasty smell.

A satisfied smile appeared on the middle-aged woman while she watched her daughter vomit above the white marble sink. Shocked Hayan looked at the food in the sink while her brain tried to process everything that just had transpired. Gently Hayan’s mother cupped the young actress’ face and looked into Hayan’s red teary eyes. “You did well, darling,” she praised her daughter knowing that if her child continued this curse, she would be desired by the public again.

The silence was the only thing present in the house till a quiet moan disturbed the peace. A brown-haired man sat on a large chair as he stroked his hard length with his right hand. He closed his eyes and pictured the beautiful woman in front of him.

He gently pushed the woman on his bed and looked at her. She was so beautiful. Her innocent face made him almost feel guilty for doing this to her but her curves and her hardened nipples, which were poking through her dress, made him want to sin. He wanted to ruin her innocence and stain her with his filth. Hastily he ripped the green silk dress off her body. Gently his hands traveled over her soft skin while he buried his face in her neck and inhaled her sweet scent. “Please” she whined in his ear. Making him hornier.

“Fuck…” the man moaned while he opened his eyes. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and trickled down his face. Eventually landing on his naked chest. His eyes landed on a photo frame, prompting him to move his hand faster while he tightened his grip. “Aw baby,” he cried out when he reached his climax. He quickly moved closer to the photo frame and shot thick ropes of cum. The cum decorated the photo frame.

The man leaned back on the chair while he took a few breaths to come back from his high. He lowered his eyes and licked his lips while he stared at the picture of Kan Hayan, which was now covered in his cum.

“I love you,”

“Here we are,” Min Yoongi said when he parked the black van in the parking lot. Slowly he turned around and looked at Hayan. The superstar took off her AirPods and looked at her manager. The young actress’ eyes were red, it looked as if she had cried. “Are you all right?” Yoongi asked while looking concerned at Hayan. Lately, she has not been herself. Usually, Hayan would always have dinner with her co-stars to celebrate a successful shooting day but recently she turned down every invitation and went straight to home after she was done filming her parts. “Are you still upset about what happened at the park?” Manager Min questioned as he moved his hand to his bag and grabbed a small bottle. “Yeah, the security said they haven’t found him yet,” Hayan said softly. “That probably means that the guy gave up and found a new hobby. Here this will make the red lines in your eyes disappear,” Yoongi told to the young actress while he handed her the small bottle. The dark-haired man got out of the car to grab some stuff from the trunk. Hayan put a few drops of the solution in her eyes and blinked a few times while her stomach begged her to eat something.

After politely greeting everyone on the set, the superstar made her way to her dressing room to memorize her lines. She was seated on a comfortable chair. A cup of green tea was placed on the table next to her while her makeup artist, Remi, grabbed a bottle of foundation. “Why is your skin so swollen lately?” Remi asked while she looked at Hayan’s puffy cheeks. “Did the agency change your diet?” Remi asked while she squirted some foundation on the back of her hand before grabbing a foundation brush. “Yeah, can you be quiet for now? I am trying to memorize my lines,” Hayan said without looking at Remi. The way how Hayan spoke it was clear that she was annoyed. Hayan did not want to be reminded of her wrongdoings. “All right,” Remi said while she gently applied the foundation on her face.

The entire day, Hayan was on set. Today she had to film so many scenes with her co-star, Kim Seokjin. The two got along well. He was kind and cracked a few dad jokes to make Hayan feel comfortable before they had to shoot their steamy make-out scenes. Hayan and Seokjin are familiar with each other. Before getting cast for this movie, the two good-looking stars were the face of a skincare brand and last June they were on the cover of Vogue Korea. Due to their frequent collaborations, the public was convinced that the two stars were romantically involved with each other, despite both of their agencies had denied the rumor.

Currently, it was almost 11 pm and all cast members were preparing to shoot the final scene for the day. Kan Hayan was resting in her dressing room. She was enjoying the quietness until it got interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in,” Hayan said while she opened her eyes and watched her manager enter the room. “Hey, Jisoo wants to talk to you,” Yoongi said while he tried to hide his nervousness. “Kim Jisoo?” Hayan asked while raising her eyebrow. Yoongi nodded and left the room before Hayan could ask any more questions. Hayan did not understand why her other co-star wanted to talk to her. Ever since a reporter wrote an absurd article about Hayan and the nation’s favorite contemporary dancer, Park Jimin, there has been some tension between two movie stars. Hayan had multiple times explained to Jisoo why she was at Jimin’s house and that there was no romance between the two despite all the speculations. Maybe Jisoo had finally realized that her rudeness towards Hayan was unjustified and now she wants to apologize for it.

While walking to Jisoo’s dressing room, Hayan had a strange feeling. Her senses told her to turn around and go back but for some reason. Gently Hayan knocked on the door when she stood in front of Jisoo’s dressing room. “Enter,” Jisoo said from the other side of the door. When Hayan entered the dressing room, she got greeted by Jisoo and another woman. It took a moment before it dawned on Hayan who the other person was, it was Jisoo’s younger sister Jennie. Kim Jennie was a famous rapper and singer Korea, she was loved for her beauty and often praised for her singing and rapping skills. Hayan did not understand why Jisoo’s younger sister was present on the set. Suddenly Jisoo stood up from the bright pink couch and walked towards Hayan. “Have fun, Jen,” Jisoo said while she bumped her shoulder against Hayan’s. With a smirk on her face, the pretty actress left her dressing room. Hayan turned back to Jennie and watched how she stood up from the couch. She did not like the atmosphere in the room, it felt hostile and unsafe. Hayan wanted to turn around and leave the room.

“I heard you were spending time with Jimin,” Jennie said while she looked at Hayan. “Uhm I am sorry but what is going on?” Hayan asked while watching how Jennie came closer to her. “You don’t get it, sweetie? It’s because you’re just too dumb.” Jennie responded. Hayan was caught off guard with Jennie’s unkind remark. Before Hayan had the chance to respond, Jennie grabbed Hayan’s shirt and pulled her closer. “You think you are so precious, don’t you?” the rapper said while she watched how the actress looked shocked at her. “I need to g-” Hayan did not get the chance to finish her sentence, a painful slap landed on Hayan’s cheek. “You are always going from one man to the other. Don’t you think that your reckless behavior is hurting some people?” Jennie questioned. Tears streamed over Hayan’s cheeks as she tried to come up with a plan to escape.

With a smirk on her face, Jennie watched in silence how the talented actress seemed so small and weak. On screens, she portrayed herself as a tough woman but Hayan had a hard time defending herself. Suddenly the silence between the two celebrities got interrupted by the director yelling everyone to come on the set so they can shoot the final scene. Hayan looked at Jennie and started to wonder if this was the right moment to scream for help. “See you later, sister” Jennie suddenly said while she grabbed her black leather jacket and left the distraught actress behind. Not wanting to upset the director, Hayan quickly got up and wiped her tears away. With trembling legs, she made her way to the set.

“All right let’s quickly do the water scene…Action!” the movie director said as he sat back behind a screen and watched how the actors portrayed their characters. When it was time for Hayan’s character to make an appearance, the distressed actress remained in her position. Countless questions and thoughts floated through her brain while her stomach desperately looked for food in her system to keep her going. Suddenly a warm landed on Hayan’s shoulder. A scream escaped from her lips while her heart was racing. “Are you all right?” Jisoo asked while a devilish smile appeared on her angelic face.

Suddenly all the noises slowly got muted while the bright studio lamps became blinding. Hayan felt her body becoming weaker. Her heartbeat became irregular while her body tried to keep itself warm. Her brain was sending so many signals but none of them got received. Jisoo stood there and watched how her co-star fell on the ground while trying to stay conscious. Jisoo sat next to her and wiped her tears away.

“Don’t worry Hayan, he will take good care of you,”

The smell of carbolic acid and flowers made their way into Hayan’s nose when she opened her eyes and blinked a few times. The brightness in the room almost made the young actress believe she was in heaven but those thoughts quickly came to an end when she realized she was in a hospital room. She looked around the room and noticed a bunch of flowers, stuffed toys and baskets filled with food were placed on a table close to her bed. The quietness in the room got interrupted when a deep groan echoed through the room. Hayan startled when the sound entered her ears. Suddenly she realized one of her hands was warmer than the other one, she looked down and saw a large hand holding her right hand. She traced her eyes from the hand to a wrist afterwards following to an arm and eventually landing on the face of a man.

Who is this? Hayan asked herself while she stared at the sleeping man. He had thick dark eyebrows. His eyes were closed but they were big. His eyelashes were long, thick, and curled. His nose was slightly larger while his lips were pink with a layer of lip balm. His hair was dark blond and slicked back. His outfit looked quite formal. A white blouse hugged his body while a green gilet added some color. The green-tie matched his gilet. The guy was breathtakingly handsome.

Hayan stared at him. There was something familiar about him.

Suddenly the silence in the room got interrupted by the sound of a door getting pushed open. Hayan quickly pulled her hand out of the tight grip, causing the unknown man to groan and open his eyes. “You’re finally awake,” the charming man said while he smiled. His voice was a lot deeper than Hayan expected to be. The way he spoke it was similar to Yoongi’s. He was, just like Yoongi, from the south. His smile was unique, it did not have the sideways half-moon shape like everyone else. His smile resembled a square. The unknown man trapped Hayan’s hand in his large hand while looking at her with his dark piercing eyes. Hayan tried to look away but no matter how hard she tried, she just could not look away.

“Good morning Ms. Kan,” a feminine voice interrupted the somewhat staring contest between the two adults. Hayan wanted to pull her hand out of the grip once again but this time the man tightened his grip, making it impossible for her to escape his grasp. “I am doctor Yang. I hope you had a good sleep,” Dr. Yang said while she stepped closer to her. “Wha- what happened?” Hayan asked with confusion written all over her face. “You fainted on the set” the handsome mysterious man informed the young actress. “Who are you?” Hayan asked while roughly pulling her hand out his grip. Even though her hand was pressed against her chest, she could still feel his warmth on her hand.

“How impolite of me. I am Kim Taehyung, your new manager,” the dark-blond-haired man said while bowing to her. “New ma- Where’s Yoongi?” Hayan asked while looking around the room, hoping to see something that proved that Yoongi had been in the room. “He is fired,” Taehyung revealed to Hayan. “Why?” Hayan asked while looking disbelieved at Taehyung. “Because he failed to take care of you,” Hayan’s new manager said to her. “What do you mean? He took good care of me,” the young actress defended her former manager. “He failed to recognize you were suffering from an eating disorder,” Dr. Yang weighed in.

Hearing those words coming from a professional silenced the actress. It was something she was fully aware of yet she refused to admit it. “Aside from that you were also overworked and exhausted,” Dr. Yang added while Hayan was hesitating whether she should accept the revelation or not. “I know this is quite the shock but see it as a wake-up call. Being underweight will have serious repercussions on your health,” the doctor told to the actress. Hayan slowly nodded and looked at the doctor. “I will send the results along with the right recovery plan to Mr. Jung so that you can convalesce,” he said and gave the performer a hopeful smile.

“Hayan wake up,” a baritone voiced as whispered into Hayan’s ear as a warm hand gently landed on her hand. The black-haired actress opened her eyes and looked at her new manager who smiled at her with his famous boxy smile. “The plane has landed,” Taehyung informed her while he unbuckled his belt. Hayan copied his action and grabbed her red Burberry bag. Like a shadow the performer followed her manager and exited the plane. Hayan’s body was wide awake while her mind was still at sleep. Prior getting get stuck in a plane with her manager, she was on set for ten hours straight. Just as usually she gave it her all knowing that she will be able to catch up on sleep the coming two weeks.

While Taehyung was busy texting with Kim Namjoon, the CEO of RM Entertainment. The dark-blond-haired man informed his boss about their safe arrival in Toronto and the current wellbeing of Hayan. The actress’ head rested against the car window while she looked out of the window. The streets of Toronto look much more peaceful, Hayan thought to herself as watched how people walked through the streets. After a peaceful thirty-minute car ride, the two adults arrived safely at Shangri-La Hotel.

“So what do think?” Taehyung asked as he put the suitcases in a corner and looked at Hayan, who was standing in front a large window. “The suite is marvelous,” the actress said while enjoying the beautiful city view. “That’s great to hear,” her new manager said when he stood next to her. “Why don’t you take a shower while I order some food,” Taehyung suggested as he secretly admired the performer’s beauty. Even with dark circles under her eyes and chapped lips, she still looked breathtakingly beautiful. Hayan nodded and made her way to the bathroom.

The white marble bathroom reminded her a lot of her home back in Seoul. Hayan filled the bathtub with warm water and add a few drops of lavender as she undressed herself. Without wasting too much time, she stepped into the bathtub and unwind when the lavender scent entered her nose. Being in a foreign country without any work commitments felt weird to the young actress. Knowing that her schedule for the coming two weeks will be empty, made her feel weird. Hayan has been working as an actress as long as she can remember. When was even the last time she properly relaxed? While the warm water relaxed her sore muscles, Hayan looked out of the window and enjoyed the city view. Once the water had turned cold, Hayan got up and dried her wet body with a soft towel.

When the actress entered the bedroom, she quickly put a white blouse that provided gave her enough comfort to move around easily while a tight blue pair of jeans hugged her legs snugly. Just when Hayan wanted to blow dry her long black hair, something caught her attention. An orange velvet blanket was placed on her bed. Without any explanations or much thought, anger and disgust took over her body. “Taehyung!” Hayan called as she stared at the velvet blanket. “Yes?” Taehyung asked when he entered the bedroom and looked at the actress. “Get that hideous thing out of this room,” Hayan said as she pointed at the velvet blanket. “Uhm alright…?” Taehyung said and he walked to the bed. “Do you want me to get a new velvet blanket?” manager Kim asked as he grabbed the orange velvet blanket. “I hate velvet, you can use it but keep that thing away from me,” Hayan said angrily. She did not understand why the woven tufted fabric always made her feel disgusted but it for some reason. Every time Hayan saw something that was made from velvet, it did not only make her feel sick on the inside but it also made her skin crawl.

The first three days in Toronto was peaceful. Hayan was the entire time in the luxurious bedroom and spending her time reading the books she always wanted to read or sleeping. On the fourth day was about the end the same way as it did the previous three nights till a sudden knock on the door broke the silence in Hayan’s bedroom. “Come in,” the actress said as she looked up and saw her new manager enter the room. “Hey, are you hungry?” Taehyung asked when he sat on the bed. Hayan shook her head and looked back at her book. For a moment there was an awkward silent between the two adults. Even though they have known each other for a month now, but there is was always a strange feeling Hayan felt when she was around her new manager. “You know, food is not your enemy,” Taehyung said to Hayan. Surprised she looked up at Taehyung. “I know you are feeling a lot pressure from the company and the public to look psychically appealing but does not mean you should sacrifice your health,” the dark-blond-haired man said as he looked at Hayan’s collarbones. “I am fi-,” Hayan did not get the chance to finish her sentence because Taehyung quickly interrupted her by saying: “Hayan, please take a proper care of yourself. Look what your refusal of eating food did to you,” It were words the actress did not wanted to hear. She did not want to be reminded with the fact that something was wrong with her. “Don’t let your mother take control of what’s yours,” Taehyung as he carefully put his hand hers. Confused the young performer looked at her manager. How did he know something she had never mentioned?

Before Hayan could let Taehyung’s word sink in, she found herself sitting in the living room with her manager. Various types Chinese food was placed in front of her. The food smelled so delicious while everything looked so delectable. “Here try this,” Taehyung as he picked up four-leafed shaped wrapper with his wooden chopsticks. “What is it?” she asked while the smell entered her nose. “It’s called Cream Cheese Rangoon,” the dark-blond-haired man said and held it close to Hayan’s lips. “I am not hungry,” the twenty-eight-year-old woman said as she moved back to create more distance between herself and the delicious smelling food. Just at that moment Hayan’s stomach cried out for food. Taehyung chuckled. “I think your stomach thinks otherwise,” the twenty-nine-year-old said as he moved closer to her. “Please just one bite, if you don’t like it then you can go back to the bedroom and I will leave you alone,” Taehyung pleaded as he looked at her with puppy eyes. Hayan looked into his dark eyes. They were beautiful yet mysterious. His eyes shape, his eyebrows, the tiny mole on his lower eyelid. It all seems to familiar. Why does it feel like Hayan had experienced this before?

“Have we met each other before?” Hayan asked while her brain dug deep to find a memory. The question caught Taehyung off as he moved back and looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “That’s very unlikely, Ms. Kan,” The man said as he looked away. The actress shook her head, she must have mistaken this moment with a scene she had played in a movie or drama. “Can I try some of the chicken?” Hayan asked. “Yeah sure, please dig in,” Taehyung said while he brough the plate of chicken closer to the female performer. When the honey sesame chicken touched Hayan’s taste buds, she felt overjoyed. The piece of chicken luscious. “Not bad,” Hayan said and looked at her manager. “Not bad? The chicken is succulent and well-seasoned,” Taehyung spoke with his mouth full of food. The actress could not help but to chuckle.

As the two adults ate while watching a Canadian tv-show. From the corner of her eye, Hayan kept an eye on her manager. Suddenly a tune echoed caught Taehyung’s attention. “An email from Namjoon?” Hayan asked as she picked up some noodles with her chopsticks and ate it. “No, a notification from my game,” Taehyung said while he put down his chopsticks and started to play a game. “Game? What kind of game?” the black-haired woman asked as she moved closer to him to get a glimpse of the game. Taehyung chuckled. Her curious face is so cute, he thought to himself as he pushes his laptop closer to her. “It’s a first-person shooting game,” he explained as he showed her how he shot someone in the game. “Do you want to try?” Taehyung asked out of the blue. “I have never played games like this before,” Hayan said as a hint of pink shade appeared on her cheeks. Oh, Hayan your cuteness is killing me, Taehyung thought to himself as he stared at her. “Well there’s a first for everything,” the tall man said and put his laptop on the actress’ lap. He quickly explained which buttons needed to be pressed. Once he was done, he grabbed his plate and continued to eat while he watched Hayan play the game.

After losing for the fifth time, Hayan pushed the laptop away. “You play,” she said as her lips formed a pout. Please Hayan do not do that, it reminds me of when… his thoughts got interrupted when Hayan poked his cheek. “Hey, pay attention, you almost got shot,” Hayan said. Her brief yet gentle touch gave him goosebumps.

While Taehyung was playing the game, the actress sat next to him and watched him play. Hayan looked at Taehyung and studied his features. From his eye-catching facial characteristics to the texture of his skin.

Why does he look so familiar?

Rays of sun found pierced though the small opening between the white curtains and illuminated the luxurious hotel bedroom. Hayan was sleeping peacefully. Her head rested on a red satin pillow while a thick blanket kept her body warm. Suddenly the tranquility came to an end when a warm hand gently caressed her cheek.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” a deep voice whispered. Hayan was too deep in her sleep to give a response. Taehyung chuckled and laid next to her on the bed. Adoringly he watched her sleep. In his eyes she looked like an angel. If he could, he would watch her sleep all day long. The dark-blond-haired man moved closer to the actress and gently placed a kiss on her cheek. The kiss was too light and gentle to be noticed. “I've missed you since you left me …Are you still mad at me?” Taehyung talked into her small ear. A smile appeared on the man’s face when the woman groaned when a sunbeam found its way to land on the actress’ face. She rubbed her eyes while moving her away to avoid the sun ray. Taehyung quickly got off the bed when Hayan opened her eyes and looked at him.

“Good morning,” she said with her morning voice. It sounded like music in his ears. “Good morning, did you sleep well?” he asked as he walked to the window and opened the curtains. “Yeah,” Hayan said as she kicked her blankets away. While Taehyung was ordering breakfast by calling the room service, Hayan took a quick shower. Once dry, the actress grabbed a green satin dress with a floral print. To complete her outfit, she put pink diamond earrings in her ear. When she was satisfied with the way she looked, the actress made her way to the living room.

“You kept those earrings from high school? How sweet,” Taehyung asked as a grin appeared on his face. “High school? How do you know that?” Hayan asked while she tried to remember when she ever told him about the earrings. “Yeah, don’t you remember? You told me about them when we were in the car on our way for your Harper's Bazaar shoot,” Taehyung told as he walked to her and stood in front of her. The actress raised her eyebrow. “I did?” Hayan asked while her mind replayed the memory of that day in her head. The only thing she can remember from that car ride was that it was quiet and awkward. “Yeah,” Taehyung as he chuckled. “You must have forgotten about it since you were so tired that day,” the dark-blond-haired man said as he gently wrapped a loose strand of black hair around his finger. Confusion was written all over Hayan’s face. She can clearly remember that day but she cannot recall the moment she mentioned the earring let alone talked about her high school days. “Don’t worry too much about it, the memory will come back again at some point,” Taehyung said while he carefully put the strand of hair behind her ear and looked at the pink diamond earring.

After having eaten breakfast, the two adults agreed to go to Art Gallery of Ontario. They walked next to each other while looking at the beautiful paintings. “Hayan look,” Taehyung called the actress as he stood next to a painting and imitated to comical facial expression of the woman on the painting. Hayan looked at him and laughed.

“Tell me something about this one,” Hayan asked when the man and woman stood in front of a painting of a woman. “This is called Portrait of a Lady with a Lap Dog and it is painted by the famous Dutch painter, Rembrandt van Rijn. Many people speculate that the woman in the painting is his daughter-in-law,” Taehyung lectured the actress about the painting. The way how the tall spoke about the painting felt like déjà vu to her. “You told me this before,” Hayan suddenly said as she tried to remember when Taehyung had ever told her about the painting. “Oh? When?” Taehyung asked as he looked confused at her. “A long time ago,” she said when she looked at him. Was the meeting in the hospital really our first encounterment? Hayan asked herself. “Silly how can I have told this long time ago when we have only known each other for a month?” Taehyung asked while he moved closer to her. “You are right. Sorry,” Hayan said as she shook her head. “Are you sure you had a good sleep?” the charming man asked while looking concerned at the actress.

“Yeah I did. I am sorry, I am not used to not working for this long,” the female performer expressed. That must be why I am having those weird thoughts, she told herself. “Hey, try to relax a bit,” Taehyung said as he put his large on her shoulder.

On the evening before their departure, the adults were in the living room. Keeping each other entertained with strong liquor and jazz music. The living room had an aura of serenity.

“You’re lying,” Hayan said as she grabbed her glass of strong liquor and took a sip. The strong drink burned her throat. Drinking was something she rarely did but being in the present of Taehyung she felt safe. “Aw that’s sad, you deserve better,” the actress told to the dark-blond-haired man, who just told a sad story about his high school crush who rejected him. “What about you? Have you ever had a crush on someone in high school?” Taehyung while he moved closer to the coffee table and refilled his glass. “Uhm this might sound stupid but I can’t barely remember anything from high school. During my teenage years, I was so busy with acting. I had hardly any time to make friends and live like a normal teenager,” Hayan told her as she tried to dig up some memories from her high school days but everything was just one vague time for her. “Do you regret it? You know having to miss out on the chance to live like a normal teen?” Taehyung asked with full interest. “I am not sure if regret is the correct term to describe it…I guess we all have to sacrifice something for happiness,” Hayan said and took another sip of her drink. “Wise words for a cute girl,” Taehyung said. The two adults looked at each other and laughed.

While the alcohol slowly started to take over her mind, Hayan started to feel tired. Her vision became blurry while her head began to spin. The actress watched how Taehyung’s lips moved but none of his words entered her ears. Suddenly she felt a warm hand massaging her shoulder. “Are you alright?” the deep-voiced man asked as he moved closer to her and his hands roamed over her body. His touch felt safe and gentle. A soft moan escapes from her lips when she felt the thin strap of her top slide off her shoulder. Before Hayan could comprehend what was going on, she found herself straddled on Taehyung’s lap.

“Shall I tell you a secret?” the man asked as he grabbed the hem of her top and slowly lifted it up. “Mmm?” was the only response Hayan could give. “You have always been my favorite actress. You are more beautiful than Shin Hye or Hyun Joo and definitely far more talented than Ji Eun or Tae Hee,” Taehyung told her as he threw her top somewhere in the room. His jaw dropped when he looked at her topless body. He wrapped his arms around her and gently pressed kisses on her collar bones and in her neck. Mindlessly Hayan combed her finger through his thick hair. When Taehyung found her sensitive spot in her neck, she grabbed a handful of hair.

A moan escaped from her lips when Taehyung gently bit her sensitive spot. “I knew I had to have you when you played in Little Soah,” the dark-blond-haired said while he placed his hands under her thighs and stood up from the couch with the actress in his arms. Without thinking clearly, Hayan pulled him closer towards her and kissed him deeply.

Once the two adults were in Hayan’s bedroom, Taehyung gently put her on the bed and hastily he took off his clothes. While Hayan was in and out of consciousness, Taehyung crawled towards her and kissed her again.

High-pitched moans and deep grunts filled the luxurious hotel room while the moon shone its rays of light into the room when a soft breeze gently pushed the white curtains to the side.

With eyes filled with lust, the twenty-nine-year-old man watched how Hayan bit her lip when Taehyung slowly pushed his long fingers deep into her pussy. The way how her walls stretched around his fingers gave him goosebumps. Her warmth and wetness were enough to make him cum right then and there, but he pushed his urges to the side and focused on the naked actress underneath him.

As a teenager, Taehyung used to fantasize about how it would feel to be inside his favourite actress. So many nights he spent wondering about what she would taste like. Every time Taehyung watched porn, all he could think about was what it would feel like to try out those positions with her. Would she enjoy riding him or did she prefer to get it from behind? But now that he finally has her in his hands, Taehyung was looking forward to turning his fantasies into reality.

Hayan let out a scream when she felt something wet touching her clit. She raised her head and looked down to see what caused her to feel this sudden tingling between her legs. Her cheeks reddened when she was met with the sight of Taehyung’s face between her legs. Just when Hayan parted her red lips to say something, Taehyung trapped her clit between his lips and started sucking. The moans that came from her lips sounded like music in Taehyung’s ears.

The young actress bit her lower lip while she tried to hold in her moan but failed to do so. A whiny moan echoed in the room while Taehyung curled his fingers. The way how Hayan frowned gave away that she was so close to climaxing. Taehyung smirked and decided to give her an extra push to reach her climax. While his long fingers went deeper in her, his tongue flicked her clit. His tongue movements were fast and hard while his fingers quickened its pace.

Hayan curled her toes and let out another high-pitched moan when she hit her climax. Amused and prideful, Taehyung watched how Hayan drowned in pleasure. She looked so beautiful when she came. Taehyung slowed down his pace and helped Hayan ride out her climax.

Hayan closed her eyes while she slowly came back from her high. Taehyung licked his fingers, she tasted so sweet. His fantasies are nothing compared to reality. Once his fingers were clean he moved closer to her and pressed gentle kisses on her cheek while his arm snaked around her waist and held her tightly. Being skin-to-skin was enough for him to become horny again. He wanted his dick in her mouth. He wanted to decorate her walls with his cum. But seeing how his favourite actress was slowly drifting into sleep, he suppressed his desires.

Now that we are finally together, we have all the time in world to get to know each other better, Taehyung thought to himself while he gently grabbed her chin with his thumb and index finger. Slowly he turned her head towards him. Their faces were close to each other that their noses were touching. Tenderly Taehyung pressed his lips against hers.

“Don’t worry Hayanie, manager Kim will take care of you.”

The tantalizing aroma of cooking onions and garlic in a pan wafted in Taehyung’s kitchen while he carefully moved the two ingredients around in the pan.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” a gentle voiced asked him. He looked over his shoulder and saw his favorite actress standing in his kitchen. “I am very sure. Don’t worry about it,” Taehyung said as he brought his attention back to the pan and added the cut vegetables into the hot pan. “Alright, if you need anything then let me know,” Hayan said as she walked back to the living room.

When she sat on the couch, the actress looked around. The living room had a cozy vibe. The colors warm toned made her feel comfortable while a few expensive looking paintings caught her attention. Even though it was her first time being at Taehyung’s place, somewhat the place felt familiar to her. As if she had been here before. She was not sure why she had that feeling. Maybe it was because the living room was organized like the typical rich people way.

“Dinner is ready,” Taehyung said from the kitchen. Hayan put a book down and stood up from the couch. “It smells amazing,” the actress said when she sat at the dining table and looked at the food on her plate. “Thanks, hopefully it tastes as good as it smells,” the tall man said as he sat next to her. “Is life fun when you are twenty-nine-year-old?” Hayan asked when she picked some noodles with her chopsticks. “It’s so fun, you will have the best time of your life,” Taehyung said sarcastically. The man’s response made the actress laugh. “29 really sounds old,” the female performer teased while she looked at the dark-blond-haired man. “At least you won’t be turning thirty later in the year,” Taehyung said and looked at Hayan. The woman laughed: “Well in that case, I will make sure 29 will be my best year,”.

When the two adults finished their meals, they decided to do the dishes together. “I cannot wait to see your reaction when you get your birthday gift,” Taehyung said teasingly. All day long, the man had been reminding the actress that he had a special gift for her without dropping any hints. Hayan sighed annoyed. “If you are not going to say what it is, then don’t mention it,” she said while she dried the wet plate with a kitchen towel. “Why? Is someone getting excited about it?” Taehyung asked as he splashed some of the water to her. “Hey!” Hayan giggled and threw the wet kitchen towel to the tall man. “I am done doing the dishes,” she said while stepping away from him. The man chuckled at her cute action. After all these you are still the same cute girl, he thought to himself.

“Alright close your eyes,” Taehyung said as he held a box behind him. Hayan gave him a suspicious look but still followed his instruction. Carefully Taehyung put the box in front of the actress and carefully took out the creature. “Open your eyes,” the deep-voiced man said as he held the creature in front of her. When Hayan opened her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of a tiny Pomeranian. Her big eyes got bigger as she stared surprised at the tiny dog. “Happy birthday Hayan,” Taehyung said as he carefully placed the puppy on her lap. Attentively Hayan lifted the little black fluffy dog and look at it. “It’s a boy,” Taehyung informed the actress as he watched her observe the puppy.

“Taehyung, I am speechless. I don’t know what to say,” the actress confessed while she put the puppy in her arms and hugged it. “Luckily, you told me that you liked Pomeranians otherwise I had no idea which breed I had to choose,” Taehyung told her. “Have we ever talked about dogs?” Hayan asked confused as she put the puppy down, giving it some space to walk around. “Yeah,” was Taehyung response. You told it to me a while ago, he thought to himself as he watched her play with the dog. “Do you have a name for him?” Hayan’s manager asked when the black puppy ran towards to the man and jumped on his lap. “Maybe Yeontan?” Hayan said while looking at the dog. “What a cute name,” Taehyung said.

The adults played with Yeontan while they talked about random topics. Hayan did not know how to express her happiness. She looked Taehyung, who was playing with Yeontan, and felt a strange feeling in her stomach. Hayan had no idea who to describe the feeling but it felt pleasant. Is this what they mean with butterflies in your stomach? The actress questioned herself. Whatever you called this feeling, Hayan would not mind feeling that sensation in her stomach again.

“Oh no,” Hayan said as she watched Yeontan pee on the ground. “Tannie,” Taehyung sighed while walking towards the tiny dog. Yeontan knew he was in trouble so began to tremble, wondering what his owner would do. “It alright, puppies do that all the time,” Hayan said while she carefully picked up the dog and planted a few kisses on his head. “Here, hold him while I go grab a cloth,” the actress said while she gently pushes Yeontan in Taehyung’s arms. Before Taehyung could respond, Hayan had already turned around and left the room.

The black-haired woman walked through the halls of Taehyung’s mansion, trying to find the nearest bathroom. The young performer halted her tracks when a bright blue door caught her attention. That must be the bathroom, Hayan thought to herself. Carefully she pressed down the door handle and pushed the door open. When the actress was inside the room, she started to get shivers. It was not a bathroom but a bedroom. The room was big but neat. The walls were burgundy while the furniture was dark brown. The golden decorations made the room look expensive. There was a strange vibe in the room. Goose bump appeared on her arms as she slowly walked further into the room. The room felt familiar to her, she swore that she had been here before. While the twenty-nine-year-old woman walked closer to the bed, her mind dug deeper into her brain. When Hayan stood in front of the bed, she looked at the red velvet blanket. With trembling fingers, she reached out for the blanket. When her cold fingers touched the soft fabric, her mind unlocked a memory.

“I remember,” Hayan whispered to herself.

“Let’s talk here,” a nineteen-year-old boy said as he pushed the blue door open and looked at the eighteen-year-old girl. The way how she fiddled the hem of her skirt with her thin fingers it was clear that she was nervous. “Taehyung I already said what I had to say at school,” Hayan said as she looked into the big eyes of the boy. “It won’t take too long. Please listen to what I have to say,” Taehyung pleaded while he pouted like a puppy. Her mind told her to reject his invitation and to return to Jisoo but her heart convinced her to give Taehyung a chance. So she nodded and entered the spare bedroom.

When Taehyung closed to bedroom door behind him, he took off his blazer and moved closer to the girl. “I want to apologize for my rude remarks,” the boy said as he ran his long fingers through his thick long hair. Hayan did not like the atmosphere in the room, it felt unsafe. “Apology accepted. I also want to apologize for hurting you by rejecting your confession but I really cannot accept it,” the young starlet said without realizing that her words triggered the boy’s anger. Taehyung’s hands turned into a fist while his mind reminded him of the humiliating event that happened a few days ago. “It’s alright, but can I ask you something?” Taehyung asked as he swallowed his anger away. Hayan nodded as Taehyung reminded himself to calm down. “Would you want to give it a try after you are done shooting the drama?” the long black-haired boy asked. There was a silence between the adolescents.

Kan Hayan loved Kim Taehyung. There was no denying in that. He caught her attention the moment she entered the classroom for the first time three years ago. It was not a surprise why all the girls in school had a crush on him. He was an Adonis. She could stare at him for hours doing nothing and still she would feel fulfilled. She liked his personality. Unlike other rich teenagers, he was kind and well-mannered. A real gentleman stuck in a teenager’s body. When the rumor of Taehyung having a crush on Hayan made its way around school and eventually reached the actress, she did not believe it. How could to the eldest son of the Kim family fall for a young girl who aspired to be an actress?

Hayan’s heart told her to accept his confession but her brain quickly interfered and reminded the young starlet that she cannot be in a relationship. She needed to focus on her acting career. “I am sorry Taehyung but currently I want to focus on my acting career,” Hayan told the tall boy. His long black hair covered his eyes. The girl was not able to see the anger and disappointment in the boy’s eyes. “You like Hoseok, don’t you?” Taehyung asked angrily while the memory of Hayan and Hoseok in the park flashed in front of him. “No, there’s nothing between us,” Hayan explained. The anger in black-haired boy’s voice scared the eighteen-year-old girl.

Suddenly Taehyung grabbed Hayan by her arms and pushed her on the bed. Roughly she landed on the red velvet blanket. The tall boy jumped on her and grabbed her wrists. “Taehyung!” Hayan shouted as he pinned her wrists above her head. The black-haired boy held her down with one hand while his other hand aggressively ripped her shirt open. The view of her bra made his mouth water. He waited for so long to have her underneath him. A scream escaped from the girl’s mouth while she tried to break free from his tight grip. Growing tired of her struggle, Taehyung untied his Gucci scarf and tied her wrists to the bed.

Just when Hayan opened her mouth to scream for help, Taehyung bend down and placed his lips on hers. Her lips were soft, just like how he imagined. Hayan immediately closed her lips, refusing to let Taehyung enter her mouth. Like python, Taehyung’s long fingers wrapped around her neck and slowly his grip got tighter. His lips moved from her lips to her ear. “Did you really think I would not notice how you giggled at Hoseok’s jokes?” Taehyung’s hot air caressed Hayan’s ear while she tried to kick him off her. “Taehyung please stop,” Hayan sobbed as tears escaped from her eyes. Aggressively Taehyung placed his lips on hers and forced his tongue into her mouth. He moaned in her when his tongue meets hers. The way how Hayan’s tongue tried to push Taehyung’s tongue out of her mouth, turned Taehyung on. He tightened his grip around her neck as he kissed her deeper. Hayan attempted to kick him as she tried to catch her breath.

By the time Taehyung was done kissing her, Hayan had become tired from all the struggling and lack of oxygen. With a smirk on his face, Taehyung tore her bra. “Baby,” he groaned as he looked at her breasts. They were perfect. They were perfectly round and perky. Taehyung could not wait anymore, he let go of her neck and grabbed her breasts. They fitted perfectly in his hands. He roughly fondled it while he trapped a pink nipple from the other breast in his mouth. He sucked it, licked it, bit it. When he was done with it, he moved back and smiled proudly how the once pink nipple is red now.

“HELP!” Hayan screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping that someone would hear it. “Baby I need you to be quiet,” Taehyung said as he sat on her hips. “I beg you, please stop. If you let me go, I will stay away from you. I promise I will never tell this to anyone,” Hayan sobbed as tears ran down her cheeks. Her body started to tremble out of fear. The idea of what Taehyung wanted to do to her scared her. “I want you to be with me. I want you to be mine, Hayanie,” Taehyung said as he hands traveled down her body and stopped when his long fingers came in contact with her skirt. The way how her nickname rolled off his tongue made her nauseous. Another scream came out of her mouth when the black-haired boy pulled her skirt down. “Shut up!” Taehyung said as he looked at her and spat at her. The spit landed on her cheek. The idea of how her tear got mixed with his spit, made Taehyung hard. Without wasting too much time, the tall boy grabbed a pillow and placed it on the starlet’s face.

Taehyung licked his lips as he pulled down her underwear. The view of her pussy made him salivate. He planted gentle kisses on her stomach as he roughly pushed her legs apart. Taehyung collected some spit and spat it on her clit. Gently he rubbed it as he watched how his spit dripped down from her clit. He licked her clit. Suck it. Bit it. Slapped it. Pinched it. While Taehyung was playing with her clit, Hayan was trying her best to fill her lungs with air. When the eighteen-year-old heard Taehyung unzipping his pants, she started to panic.

Taehyung positioned himself between her legs. “I love you so much,” Taehyung said as he pushed himself into her cunt. The pain halted Hayan’s struggle. It felt like the world had stopped turning and everything became muted. The black-haired boy pulled himself back just to slam back inside the scared girl. While the sound of smacking of skin-on-skin echoed through the room, Hayan’s brain send multiple signals. It wanted Hayan to scream louder, to tug her wrists harder to break free, to raise her knees to kick him off. But none of the signals got received, her body was frozen.

The way how her walls clenched around his length made Taehyung moan. He drowned in a wave of pleasure when he pushed himself deeper, he could feel his length rubbing against her cervix. Feeling him hit her cervix hurt Hayan but her body showed no reaction. Taehyung removed the pillow from Hayan and kissed her roughly on the lips. His thrusts were fast and deep while his tongue gently and carefully explored her mouth. Ecstasy rushed through him as he felt his climax coming closer and closer. Taehyung’s grabbed her hips tightly as he slammed harder.

He felt euphoric when he covered her walls with cum. He looked through his bangs and watched how Hayan closed her eyes. Gently he kisses her tears away as he slowed his movements.

Once Hayan was untied, her body unfroze. She was in a lot of pain while Taehyung’s touch still lingered on her skin. She felt dirty, ashamed, and weak. So many thoughts went through her mind but it was impossible to get them in control. When the boy grabbed his shirt, Hayan got up and quickly collected her stuff. Taehyung sat on the bed and watched how Hayan limped hastily out of the room. “I will wait for you,” he quickly said to her.

“Mom!” the eighteen-year-old shouted as she slammed the door behind her. “Mom!!” Hayan sobbed as she walked to the living room. Every step she took, a wave of pain went through her body. “Hayan,” her mother said concerned as she looked at her distraught daughter. She looked like a mess. Her once neatly bun was not nothing but a mess, her shirt had a few rips. Her body was trembling uncontrollably while blood dripped down her thighs.

“What happened?” Hayan’s mother asked as she walked closer to her daughter and grabbed her cold hands. “Ta- Tae-…Taehyung di-did thi-this.ss..” the young starlet pushed those words out of her mouth with the little bit of strength she had. “Ca- call th-the po- pol- ice,” Hayan said while she held her mother’s hands tightly. She feared if she let go of her mother’s hands then she might breakdown. There was a silence between the mother and daughter. Hayan wondered why her mother did not give any reaction. Slowly her mother shook her head.

“No…We can’t,” Hayan’s mother said as she pulled her hands back. The movement was so simple yet it was strong enough to shatter the eighteen-year-old’s fragile heart. “Wh- Why?” Hayan asked when she looked at her mother’s face. All the concerns her mother had on her face was now vanished. There was no emotion. “Hayan, I know this hard but you will get through it,” her mother spoke as the sun set behind her. The young girl noticed that her mother had no halo. “All you have to do is to never think about it,” Hayan’s mother said she slowly approached her daughter. Terrified, Hayan took a few steps back. When she felt the wall against her back, she felt trapped. “Bu- but he hu- hurt m- me,” the starlet said. Hayan’s mother cupped her face with her hands. “If you continue to focus on acting and don’t ever think about it. Then you will be fine. Trust me,” her mother told her. Hayan was not sure whether her mother tried to convince her daughter that this is the best method or herself.

With a trembling hand, Hayan grabbed the red velvet blanket and lifted it up. The sight of dried blood on the bed sheets made her stomach turn. The memory kept replying in her head over and over again while tears escaped from her eyes. Is this real? Is this why she had a hard time remembering her high school years?

“Hayan…” a deep male voice interrupted the silence in the room. Slowly she looked over her shoulder and looked at the man who took her innocence. “Why?” the actress asked as she turned around and looked at him. “Because I love you. I have always loved you,” Taehyung said matter-of-factly while he stepped closer to her. “The first time I saw you on the tv screen, I knew I had to have you. We belong together, Hayanie,” everything was overwhelming for the actress. She had so many questions to ask, so many curse words she wanted to throw at the man.

Hayan looked up and suddenly noticed something. A few strands of Taehyung’s hair were red. The same kind of red that the stranger from the park had. “How did you get passed through the security?” the actress asked as her mind replayed the scene. A smirk appeared on the man’s face. “It’s crazy how many possibilities someone can have when your sisters are celebrities,” Taehyung asked.

When everything fell into place, Hayan dropped on her knees. “You planned all of this, didn’t you?” the actress sobbed. “You should be happy with the fact I gave you ten years to recover from that night,” Taehyung said with pride. “I was hurting too, darling. Do you know how much it hurts to stay away from you for ten whole years?” the tall man asked when he kneeled in front of her and wiped her tears away. Angrily Hayan slapped his hand away.

Just when Hayan stood up and got ready to run away from her nightmare, Taehyung quickly grabbed her by the arms and threw her on the bed. “Don’t make me mad, baby,” the man warned the woman while he grabbed a handkerchief. “Get away from me!” Hayan cried out loud while she tried to push him away. Taehyung got tired of her struggles. A painful slap landed on Hayan’s cheek. The sudden action halted her fight. “If you had accepted my love back then. You would not be here right now,” Taehyung said with anger in voice. While the man grabbed a bottle and wetted the handkerchief, the memories of the painful rejected replayed in his mind. It made him mad. “You are insane!” Hayan yelled as she tried to hit him, hoping it would him distract him enough for her to escape from his hold. “Oh baby, you have no idea how many boundaries I am willing to break just for you,” Taehyung told her and put the wet cloth on her face.

“You might be the doll but I am the puppeteer,” Taehyung whispered in her ear and pressed the chloroform-soaked cloth harder on her face while Hayan fought to stay awake.

Epilogue:

“And for our final news,” a short-haired news anchor said while she moved a piece of paper to the left and instantaneously glanced at the last page. In matter of seconds she absorbed the information about the new topic.

“Actress Kan Hayan has announced her retirement this morning,” the female news anchor announced as she looked into the camera. “The sudden news has the nation not only shocked but also confused as earlier this week there were rumors that Kan Hayan might be starring in Bong Joon Ho’s newest movie,”

“The news was announced on the actress’ Instagram. It said the following:

‘Hello, this Kan Hayan.

I am writing this as my final greeting to you all.

At a tender age of five years, I started my acting career and ever since then I have been in front of cameras more than anyone can imagine. During the course of my career, I have met amazing people and worked with numerous talented directors. It was truly a one-of-a-kind experience and I will never forget it.

I truly want to thank everyone for the interest and love you have shown me, it was because of you I was able to turn my dreams into a long successful career.

I wish everyone a healthy and happy life. I love you.’”

“Three month ago, the actress revealed that she will be taking a break from acting to recharge. Her announcement of her break came to a surprise to her fans but nonetheless they accepted her decision. Kan Hayan has been acting since the age of five and during her career she has played numerous famous movies and dramas. Her management agency, RM Entertainment, revealed that they were unaware of the announcement but they respect her decision. ”

“There have been some rumors flying around about the actress possibly dating someone but nothing is confirmed,”

Kim Taehyung yawned and turned off the television. He looked down and was greeted with the beautiful scene of Hayan sleeping on his chest. “I am looking forward to the days of us,” Taehyung whispered as his hand moved down.

“I will take care of you,” he said and planted a gentle kiss on her head while his hand caressed Hayan’s baby bump.

450 notes · View notes

sunlit-squid · 4 years ago

Note

(simping softness prompts) could i get some “hey, everything's gonna be fine. stay where you are, i'm on my way” or “holy crap, i thought you were dead! never do that to me again!” if you are feeling so inclined? sorry im just in love w ur writing

For those who don't know, my ask box is open. Send me a simping softness prompt, and I'll write a short sbsp ficlet for you. ✰

i'm gonna do "hey, everything's gonna be fine ...", but don't you worry. i will also be doing "holy crap ..." at some point, since someone else requested it.

anyway, thanks for the prompt, and for the kind words! while we're here, i should also say that @wowthwtslame is doing a similar ficlet challenge. their writing is wonderful, so definitely check them out!

also tagging @azumeowth, who requested the same prompt!

ficlet under the cut. thanks again!

The call came in -- loudly -- at around 2 in the morning.

When Squidward rolled over to check his shell phone, the dull blue screen read, simply, “SpongeBrat”, accompanied by a vomit emoji. Sighing, the octopus put his phone on silent and went back to bed. Surely whatever it was the sponge wanted to blabber about could wait until tomorrow. After a decent night’s sleep.

Unfortunately, sleep was hard to come by. Despite having switched his phone to silent, the device’s small blue screen continued to light up repeatedly, like a small, pathetic rave. Every few seconds, the small blue light cast peculiar shadows on the walls of Squidward’s bedroom. Eventually, after thirty minutes of tossing and turning, the cephalopod grabbed his phone to shove it inside the nightstand -- when he caught a glimpse of the screen itself.

43 missed calls. 37 unread text messages. All from “SpongeBrat” Squarepants.

The phone rang again. This time, Squidward picked up.

“Spongebob, do you have any idea what time it is?” snapped Squidward, despite the uncomfortable, worried feeling growing in his stomach. “No? Well, I’ll tell you -- it is two-forty-seven --”

“I-I know, Squidward,” came a small, shaking Spongebob-voice. “I just -- I didn’t know what to do.”

Squidward paused. Well, that was … not the regular Spongebob volume. Or tone. Or pitch.

“Squ -- Squidward?” came the sponge’s soft, sad voice once more. The frycook’s voice was barely audible. There was some sort of loud, constant whooshing happening on the other end, not to mention a weird crackling noise, which made it very difficult to hear. Squidward sighed, wiping a tentacle across his eyes.

“I’m here,” said Squidward. “What’s this about, Spongebob?”

Silence. Then, crying -- and not Spongebob’s usual loud, obnoxious crying. This crying was quiet and gentle, barely decipherable against the loud whooshing on the other end of the line. Squidward sat up then, pressing the phone close to his ear.

“Sponge,” said Squidward, panic rising in his chest. “Sponge, what’s wrong?”

Spongebob sobbed something indiscernible. Then, he stammered, “I’m -- I’m hurt, Squidward. I’m hurt, and … I’m lost.”

Something funny exploded in Squidward’s chest. Before he knew it, the octopus was out of bed, scrambling for his jacket and keys. Gripping his shell phone tight, Squidward asked, “Where are you? What’s going on, Spongebob?”

On the other end of the line, Spongebob snuffled. “I got on the wrong bus,” he explained, in a shaky, uneven voice. “I -- I’m in a place called ‘Deviltown’ now, and the current is so strong, and the signal is pretty bad --” There was that distorted, crackling sound again -- followed by a few more broken whimpers.

Squidward sighed, feeling his hearts crack with every little sob. “Hey, everything’s going to be fine,” he said, stepping out the door and into the cool Bikini Bottom night. “Stay where you are. I’m on my way.”

-0-

Deviltown, it turned out, was several hours away from Bikini Bottom. Squidward’s shell phone indicated the drive not only went straight, but downward -- which was certainly a problem. Oceanic towns grew more and more dangerous the deeper you went, and Deviltown was apparently thousands of nautical leagues under the sea. Wherever Spongebob was, even the sun couldn’t reach him.

Undeterred, Squidward set off on his journey. His boat was constantly maintained, so the cephalopod was certain it could handle the perilous road ahead.

For the first hour or so, the drive was uneventful -- peaceful, even. The streets were smooth and well taken care of, which was good considering the massive tax hike this past year. Squidward even put on some Kelpy G, which certainly helped to soothe his nerves.

Later on, however, the drive got worse. The once well-maintained roads gave way to rickety rocks and slippery sand, with only a few sporadic road signs to get by. Moonlight became sparse, and by the time Squidward reached a vertical road, he had his brights all the way up -- and was still struggling to see.

A nearby rickety sign read “Deviltown, 10 nautical miles downward.” Peering down into the deep abyss, Squidward gulped. Despite his headlights, he still couldn’t see a thing -- just a vast expanse of open blackness.

A tight feeling wound itself around Squidward’s chest. He thought about backing up, turning around, and going straight home. This was ridiculous. Why was he out here, in the wee hours of the morning, chasing after SpongeBrat Squarepants, of all people? The boy had other friends. Certainly one of them would be willing to retrieve him.

Squidward’s tentacle hovered just over the gear stick. That’s when he saw it: in his passenger seat lay Spongebob’s wrinkled little jacket. The sponge must have left it behind the other day, when Squidward (begrudgingly) drove them both home from work.

Squidward’s chest felt hollow, suddenly. He thought of how many times he’d seen Spongebob in that exact jacket over the years.

He thought of never seeing him in that jacket ever again.

Groaning, the octopus switched gears from “Drive” to “Drive, But Downward”, and puttered his way into the deep and black abyss.

-0-

The journey into the inky black was, bar none, one of the creepiest things Squidward had ever experienced. He told himself, repeatedly, that if he just stared straight ahead and focused on the task at hand, then everything would be fine. Still, hearing creepy noises in the darkness (and being unable to see where they came from) was severely unsettling.

After what felt like forever, the vertical road became horizontal once again, and Squidward finally drove into Deviltown. Luckily, the town had the decency to set up some lamp posts, possibly for out-of-towners like Squidward who were unused to the darkness. Still, the lamp posts were few and far between, and there was nobody out and about, giving Deviltown a fittingly creepy vibe nonetheless.

Tense, cold, and worried, Squidward drove further into town, squinting for Spongebob’s bright yellow body. Surely the boy couldn’t be that hard to spot -- he was likely the only vibrant thing down here. Surely --

Oh. Oh, no.

Squidward brought his boat careening to a stop. Clambering out of it, the octopus made his way over to a rickety wooden bus stop, with a flickering lamp post just overhead. On a bench nearby was none other than Spongebob Squarepants: cold, alone, and unconscious. For a moment, a horrible thought passed through Squidward’s head -- is he dead? -- before he saw the sponge’s chest rise and fall, taking slow and steady breaths.

Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Squidward looked up and down the street. No one in sight.

Gently, the octopus leaned down and shook Spongebob lightly. “Hey,” said Squidward, awkwardly. “What are you doing asleep all the way out here? We have work tomorrow, you know.”

Spongebob stirred. In the dim light, Squidward realized the sponge really was hurt -- his usually spiffy shirt and tie were ripped straight down the middle. Beyond the fabric, the sponge’s chest was badly torn up, too, and for some reason, he had not regenerated yet.

Squidward swallowed. “Spongebob?”

The sponge stirred once more. This time, his eyes opened -- and he smiled, weakly. “Squidward,” he slurred, happily. He tried to laugh, then winced, clutching at his stomach and chest. “Squidward, it’s you … you came … ”

“Of course I came,” muttered Squidward, before he could stop himself. “I -- you … ugh, I hate you.”

Scooping up Spongebob, Squidward gently carried him over to the boat, positioning him carefully in the passenger’s seat. The sponge fussed a little about being buckled in, but otherwise, seemed too out of it to complain properly. Taking a deep breath, Squidward got back behind the wheel and started the engine.

“Heheh,” chuckled Spongebob as the boat roared to life. “Vroom-vroom.”

Squidward rolled his eyes and began turning the boat around, back towards Bikini Bottom. “We’re going home now,” he said, with a sigh. “You need to see a doctor for … whatever it was that happened to you.”

Spongebob simply nodded, then fell to his side, leaning all of his body weight on Squidward as he drove. The octopus felt warmth rising to his cheeks, and for once felt grateful for the murky blackness of the ocean void.

Spongebob was mumbling something.

“What is it?” said Squidward. “Are you okay?”

“I …uh … love you, Squidward,” said Spongebob, in a very loopy voice. “I love your big nose, and your paintings, and I wanna … get married, someday. Okay? Can we get married, someday?”

Squidward’s entire face was bright red now. It took everything in him not to just veer in a random direction and crash the entire damn boat. Taking a deep breath, the octopus collected himself. Spongebob was just severely injured, and loopy as a result. He didn’t really mean any of this.

Squidward decided to play along. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, we can get married.”

“Mm,” said Spongebob, chuckling softly. “Can I -- can I wear a dress?”

“Sure,” said Squidward. “Whatever you want.”

“And you’ll … and you’ll kiss me?”

“Mhm,” mumbled Squidward.

“And I can … listen to you play the clarinet around the house … and, and paint with you … and watch your soaps with … you … ”

Squidward looked over. The sponge had fallen asleep, and was snoring loudly. Which was … good. Very good. Excellent, even. That way, they couldn’t talk about marriage or love or any of that absolute nonsense. Now they could just drive forward in sweet silence.

Still, Squidward found himself dwelling over Spongebob’s words far more than he would have liked.

About an hour into the drive home, the octopus glanced over at the sponge, still fast asleep beside him. Fixing his gaze forward, Squidward took a deep breath, clutching the steering wheel in a tight death-grip.

“Spongebob, I …,” Squidward began, shakily. “I love you. I love you, I love you.”

Squidward found that once he started saying it, he couldn’t stop. The words felt good in his mouth, like a massive weight had finally been lifted off his chest.

“I love everything about you,” said Squidward, his three hearts exploding inside his chest. “Your annoying laugh, your stupid singing, all of it. I want to read with you, and garden with you.”

Squidward hesitated, his words floating out into the open water.

“I love you,” said Squidward, one last time. “And I … I don’t know what to do about it. Maybe I’m a coward. I’m sorry.”

Squidward looked over. Spongebob was still fast asleep, snoring away against his arm -- but the smallest of smiles had appeared on his face.

-0-

Squidward woke up in the hospital, seated in a chair next to Spongebob’s hospital bed. The poriferan was wide awake, watching an episode of Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy on the hospital television. Of course.

The sponge turned. “Squidward!” he exclaimed, his voice loud and back to normal. “You’re awake!”

“Unfortunately,” muttered the octopus. “How are you feeling?”

“Great!” chirped Spongebob. “Better than ever, actually -- but the doc says I should stick around for a little while, just in case.”

Squidward glanced down. Sure enough, Spongebob’s chest had almost fully regenerated. Thank Neptune. When they arrived at the Bikini Bottom General Hospital early that morning, Spongebob was still in rough shape. The doctor said Spongebob most likely had a run-in with a deep-sea predator, and the attack was too quick and too constant for the poriferan to regenerate. Not to mention there were several lacerations to his vital organs.

Still, sponges were pretty sturdy folk -- and all Spongebob really needed was a long rest in a controlled environment.

Squidward breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Great,” he said, awkwardly. “I, uh. Pay attention next time you get on the bus, alright? So I don’t have to come running after you.”

Spongebob laughed. “Okey-doke.”

The two then sat together in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time. All the while, Squidward wondered if perhaps his stupid, impulsive, not-really-a-love-confession-confession had actually gotten through to Spongebob. His hearts twisted up at just the thought.

“Hey, Squidward?”

The octopus looked up, and was very surprised to find splotches of red decorating the sponge’s cheeks.

“What?” said Squidward.

“My, uh, sea flowers have been dying lately,” said the sponge, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “Maybe you could come by and we could share some gardening tips?”

A brilliant red blush planted itself on Squidward’s face. Then, he cleared his throat, and folded his arms across his chest. “Only if we get to watch a soap afterwards.”

Spongebob grinned. “Deal.”

Squidward found himself grinning, too, despite himself. “Deal.”

References:

“Deviltown” is loosely based off of the Devil Sea, near the Japanese coast.

I will likely be compiling these ficlets into one combined fic on ao3. I originally wasn't going to, but I definitely didn't expect so many requests. So keep an eye out for that, at some point.

#squidbob #spongebob squarepants #squidward tentacles #spongebob #squidward #spongeward #my fics #ask #asks #sunlit-squid

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hearteyesbowen · 5 years ago

Text

practicing lines ☆ ricky bowen

nothing says high school plays like two lead actors hating each other to their core

warnings: slight angst, slight fluff, some swearing, heavy making out

part I , part II

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

If there is one thing Y/N hated most, it was Richard Bowen.

Richard “Ricky” Bowen was the high school sweetheart. The most polite and respectful man in his grade, and probably his school. He held the door for anyone and everyone, he offers to help his teachers in need of grading test papers, and he seems to be the perfect boyfriend material. That’s not what you thought.

You despise everything about him. The reason for your resentment was due to the fact that you got the part for Gabriella when he wanted Nini to get the part so they could rekindle their broken love. Ever since then, he has been nothing but rude and obnoxious to you. You did everything you could to try and make peace with him, but he only cared about his stupid plan to fix his own mistakes.

It was clear to the whole school of the mutual hatred between you two. Although Miss Jenn tried to warm you up to each other with her bonding exercises and one-on-one script read throughs, nothing was more powerful than your anger for each other.

Today, after learning that the school’s stage was mysteriously burned down, you all traveled to the El Ray Theatre.

“Ok kids, let’s go to page five.” She yelled, taking her clipboard and standing on the side with Carlos.

You scrambled through your bag, grabbing the heavy script that Carlos printed out for you. You turn on your heels swiftly, only to crash into your ignorant co-star.

“Watch it, happy feet.” Rick snarled, towering over you.

“Why not give me some personal space, Richard?” You smirked. “Almost makes me think you have a crush on me.”

“You fucking wish, Y/N.”

“Language, Ricky.” Miss Jenn warned.

You give him an innocent smile, turning your back on him as you walked to center stage. You heard him groan under his breath as he trailed behind you.

You both stood next to each other, or five feet apart from each other, flipping the pages of your script to the next scene. You quickly skimmed through the page, reading through the scene you were about to act out.

“Let’s go to the scene where Troy and-”

You heard a loud snap coming from the ceiling. “Watch out!” Someone from the back screeched.

You felt a strong pair of arms grab you and pull you to their body, covering your head. A large sand bag fell from the roof, making everyone around you scream and hold on to each other.

“Is everyone ok?” You heard Seb cry out.

You look up from your hands that covered your eyes and saw horror in everyone’s eyes, from the sack to you. Confused, you remembered that you were in someone’s grasp. You look up and see Ricky, breathing heavily. He looked at you and everything was quiet.

You pushed yourself off of him, sweeping your body from the dust in the air. Ricky did the same, clearing his throat and avoiding your gaze.

“Maybe we should take a five.” Miss Jenn hummed, “Ricky and Y/N can go and look for a quiet, hopefully safer place to practice lines while the rest of us can figure out how to work the lights and not die.”

➢➣ ➢➣

“Wow, not even a goddamn thank you for saving your life?” Ricky asked annoyingly as he closed the door behind him.

You had both found a hidden storage room in the dusty halls of the theatre. Inside were worn out dresses with threads popping out, multiple broken chairs probably used during performances, and an old piano.

You rolled your eyes, “No one asked you to save me, Dicky.”

“What did you just call me?” He growled.

“I said Dicky.” You spat. You dusted off the chair of the piano before sitting down, leaving room for Ricky.

He rolled his eyes and took off his navy hoodie. His shirt went up a little, revealing his toned chest. You forced yourself to stop staring and tried to ignore him as he sat down, leaving as much room in between you two as possibly without falling off the bench. His hands grazed they top of the piano before pressing his fingers on top of the keys. He began to mess around with the notes, playing small and random tunes. His eyes were glued to the instrument as he played, and you noticed a small smile forming on his lips as he practiced . You almost forgot about everything as you listened to him play. Watching him focus on his music brought a shiver to your body, and almost a warm feeling in your stomach. You had never felt this towards Ricky, all you felt was anger. But now, this whole new feeling brought a new light to you.

“Should we start practicing our lines?” Ricky asked, turning to look at you. A heat ran to your cheeks as you both stared at each other. You noticed a change in his eyes and saw him glance down at your lips once.

“Yeah, uhm, go to page five.” You said, turning away and grabbing your script from the top of the piano.

Ricky was still in shock of what happened. He got up from the bench and grabbed his script from a tall, wooden shelf next to the door. He watched as you turn around the seat to face him, still looking at your script. He noticed your tongue stick out ever so slightly which made him smile. He quickly wiped the smile from his face, bewildered by his reaction.

“I don’t need my script, do you?” You ask softly.

His throat went dry as he looked at you, your hair falling slightly over your flushed cheeks. Something in him clicked, and his knees began to grow heavy.

“No, you’re perfect-that’s perfect.” He rambled.

You kept the page of the scene open and placed the script next to you on the bench. “Remember in kindergarten, you’d meet a kid, know nothing about them, then ten seconds later, you were best friends?” You recite.

“Yeah.” Ricky mumbled.

“Singing with you felt like that.”

“I never thought about singing, that’s for sure. Until you. And now,” He said, gazing into your eyes. “And now,” He repeated, seeming lost.

“What an actor you are.” You joked, giggling a little.

“What does that mean?” He asked somewhat annoyingly.

“It was a joke, Ricky. Calm down.” You countered, standing up as you got more irritated. “You can’t take a joke?”

“I’m sorry, aren’t you the one who can’t even thank someone for saving their life?”

“That bag was no where near me, idiot. What were you trying to save me from? Dust bunnies?” You yelled.

Ricky scoffed, “And to think I thought we were getting better at being nicer to each other. I’ve tried so hard to make things between us better but clearly you don’t want that. I’m just waisting my time.”

You were taken back. “How is all of this my fault? You are the one who started getting pissed off at me for getting the lead when you wanted Nini. Is that why you fucking hate me? Because I’m not your ex girlfriend who is happy with her new boyfriend?” You screamed, your fists curled into each other tightly.

Ricky’s rich brown eyes grew shinier, his mouth agape and in shock. Neither of you have fought like this before.

“I’m sorry.” He said, taking the smallest step towards you. You took a small step back, feeling yourself close to the wall. “I’m an idiot.”

“That’s one way to put it.” You mumbled, stepping back one more step as you hit the door

“Look, I know it was wrong for me to be mad at you for getting the part. I was so caught up in the idea of me winning back Nini like they do in the movies that I totally disregarded your feelings too.” He confessed. “I started to realized how wrong I was about you a while ago, but we were so deep into our frustration for each other I didn’t know what to do but to try and start being more polite. I’m the worst guy in the world and you never deserved to be treated like a dick, it was all my fault.”

“I shouldn’t have been so rude either.” You muttered, “It was childish for me to retaliate with an attitude instead of just working it out, you know? I deserved some of the harshness from you.”

“Can we agree that this was on the both of us?” He begged, letting out a little laugh.

“Yeah, for sure.” You replied, softly laughing as you brought your attention to the floor.

You stared at your shoes and dusted off your jeans. You felt Ricky stare at you, so you looked up. His lower lip was caught in between his teeth, slowly turning his soft lips red. You couldn’t help but steal glances from his eyes to his lips, noticing Ricky do the same.

“I feel as though I owe you an apology.” He started, moving closer to you. His slim body towered over your own.

“Oh, you do. I expect an amazing gift to make up for this.” You smirked.

One of his hands went to your chin, grabbing it gently as the other went to your waist. Your hands rested on his chest.

“I have an idea.” Ricky whispered before he crashed his lips to yours.

His large hand moved from your chin to your waist. Your arms slid from his chest to around his neck, and curled up into his own curly hair. His grip on your waist tightened and pulled you closer to him, making sure to leave no space in between you. You tugged his hair, making him let out a low groan. You smiled at his reaction. His hands slid down your waist and under your butt, motioning you to jump. You jumped up and wrapped your legs around his waist, and he slammed you up against the door. He began to trail kisses from your lips to your neck, and you tried your best to hold in a moan. You felt the marks he was leaving from your neck to your collarbone. You moved his head back up and brought your lips to his again.

“I knew you had a crush on me.” You breathed out. He bit your bottom lip, making you gasp, and letting his tongue slip through.

Ricky walked back to the piano and sat down, letting you straddle his waist. You latched your lips to his neck, leaving matching marks on his neck. He let out small moans, gripping your hips tighter as you went on. Your hands went to the hem of his shirt, tugging at it so he would take it off.

“Ricky? Y/N? Are you two in here? This door is jammed!” You heard Big Red call out from past the wooden door.

You both quickly pulled away, getting up from his lap and readjusting your shirt. Ricky did the same to his messy hair. He swiftly grabbed his hoodie he left on the piano and tossed it you, motioning at your neck with the numerous marks he left.

“Yeah we’re here! Just push the door.” He replied. He moved one of his hands to the side of his neck, hoping to subtly cover up the red scars you left him.

You managed to put Ricky’s hoodie on before Red opened the door. You took in the scent of his cologne and adjusted the collar more up to hide your bruises.

“Miss Jenn is having a midlife crisis so we’re going to order pizza. Are you guys good with pepperoni and soy cheese?” He wondered.

“Yeah, totally fine.” You answered. Ricky gave a small nod to his friend.

Red was quick to notice you wearing Ricky’s clothing on your body, but didn’t want to question it out of fear for his life. He gave a simple “ok” and left without question, knowing he would just demand answers out of his best friend later.

Ricky turned back to you, scratching the back of his neck. “About what just happened-”

“We can discuss over our next read through together.” You interrupted, giving him a soft smile.

“How about the movies tomorrow? At 8?” He asked hopefully.

You gave him a smile and walked up to him, going to peck his lips only to be pulled back by Ricky for another sweet kiss.

➢➣ ➢➣

You both walked back to your friends who were scattered around the main entrance of the theatre. Everyone noticed you two holding hands, Ricky’s hoodie, and the obvious makeup on his neck. You both acted as though nothing happened.

You were pulled away by Carlos and Ashlyn, noticing Red going for Ricky. “Excuse me, last time I remembered you and Ricky were about to murder each other.” He mumbled quickly.

“What do you mean? We just had a really, really heated argument right now.” You defended, playing with the sleeves of his larger hoodie.

“Is there something on your neck? Oh my god Y/N did you and Ri-”

Miss Jenn bursted through the door happily, “Alright kids, let’s go back to school!”

A/N - well heres another imagine !!! this one was fun to write and more steamy so ur welcome ! im thinking of doing a part 2 to breakdown, so let me know what u think or send me suggestions or requests of what to write next :)) love y’all

#ricky bowen imagine #ricky bowen x reader #ricky bowen #ricky bowen blurbs #ricky bowen fluff #ricky bowen angst #ricky bowen oneshot #joshua bassett x reader #joshua bassett imagine #joshua bassett oneshot #hsmtmts imagine

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acraftedmistake · 4 years ago

Text

A Person Who Has Never Played MCSM Writes A Story About MCSM Chp. 15

CHP 15!!!!! Some good times and bad times lie ahead......

Enjoy!

“Everything okay?” Jess asked. Aiden was about to leave the house but had stopped halfway out the door, turned back around, and scanned the first floor while Jess and Olivia waited for him.

“Yeah.” Aiden said slowly as he began to close the door, twisting the knob to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally lock the three of them out, “Just thought I heard something.” He walked away from the house and patted his hair down. “You two ready to go?”

“Mhm!” Olivia finished zipping up the olive green jacket Stella had lent her. She was hiding her face with the hood of the gray sweatshirt Cassie gave her the day before as well. She knew there weren’t too many people out at this hour, but better safe than sorry.

Jess was wearing the leather jacket and beanie again, but he wasn’t too concerned about hiding his face this time. Earlier, he made a minor complaint that his clothes felt rather stiff after wearing them for a few days straight, to which Aiden promised that once they got back home he would throw their clothes in the washer.

“Let’s get going!” Jess said, adjusting the beanie on his head. Originally, Jess wasn’t too thrilled at the idea of going out at this hour. Knowing there might be Awakening members roaming around, or his alternate self--who had no problem beating Radar in broad daylight--made Jess uncertain over the safety of Obsidian Town’s streets. Aiden assured him that they’d be alright, it’d be three against one, and--in his words--he ‘Wants to do somethin’ nice for Olivia after last night’.

Jess appreciated the thoughtfulness, and in the end, visiting Olivia’s grave was up to… Well, Olivia, but he’d still be ready in case a creep tried to pull something.

Jess couldn’t really blame Olivia for wanting to check out her grave. It’s her place of death. When would you ever get an opportunity to visit a place like that again? Not to mention, Jess had been wanting to get a better look at Obsidian Town rather than getting glimpses or constantly staring at the ground.

The three walked to the left and started their journey to the cemetery. Aiden and Olivia were making small talk, so Jess took this time to absorb his surroundings.

Up ahead, he could spot a tall, crooked, ivory colored tower in the distance. That must’ve been the library Olivia mentioned before. Even from all the way over here Jess could see how ruined the place was. Cracks stretched across it, it was riddled with holes, and it looked moments away from collapsing.

Jess scanned the streets. The long, thin black lamp posts on each side had thin string-lights tied to their tops that stretched across the streets in a zig-zag like manner. It’s a shame they weren’t on at the moment, they must’ve been wonderful when lit.

There were empty stalls they’d pass by occasionally. Colorful, patterned tents protected the bare tables, empty boxes, and scraps sitting underneath. Jess noticed each stall had string lights, small lanterns, or candles for light. He’d catch quick glimpses at folded signs tucked away and papers taped onto poles advertising items and prices. Seeing all of this reminded him of the farmer markets Beacon Town. Jess would always act so crabby when he woke up early for them, but it wouldn’t take long for him to get hyped up and dashing around the place until closing time.

The stalls and all were nice, but Jess couldn’t help but find Obsidian Town’s buildings to be… Underwhelming.

Many of the buildings, from what he could see, were constructed with the same materials: stone, wood, bricks, concrete, the occasional polished granite and diorite, and the rare terracotta. There were variations with the colors, but seeing the same materials got real tiring real fast.

And most structures here were just shapes. That’s all that could really be said. Squared, rectangled, plain shapes to fit the equally-plain materials. Even the sizes of the buildings felt plain. Many were one to two stories, a large handful reached three, and hardly any were four.

Jess was so used to Beacon Town’s monstrous structures, giant jungle trees sprouting from windows, walls of colored glass creating magnificent designs, and bridges stretching from roof to roof that connected the town together. The fun types of builds! It might sound chaotic but that’s what made Beacon Town feel like home. Obsidian Town was just that. A town.

‘Don’t think the people here can risk being experimental, to be fair.’ Jess told himself as he remembered how often quakes struck. He thought back to his town again. He thought about how so many homes would quickly collapse the moment a strong-enough quake would hit. Beacon Town was fun, but it wasn’t built with ‘sturdiness’ in mind, unlike Obsidian Town.

While the construction and sizes of these buildings were on the more ‘basic’ side, the way the citizens decorated the exteriors of their homes and stores was magnificent. Oh, how he loved their decorations. From markets using barrels, wagons, and carefully stacked crates to advertise their fresh fruit and flowers, to cafes that’d have their furniture with their own color schemes and accessories to make them stand out from one another. Some places had porches decorated with flowers and swinging benches, while others had balconies with tiny lights.

Jess would get a second to peer into windows they’d pass by, catching glimpses of interiors that’d tempt him to come closer and press his face against the glass to get a better look. Actually, he hadn’t noticed it right away, but so many windows in Obsidian Town were colored. They didn’t have any intricate designs--a majority of them were one solid color--unlike the stained glass back at the Order Hall, but they were still charming. He pictured in his head how vibrant the streets must be when night comes… The lights from the inside mixing with the colors of the glass must be magnificent.

One place that REALLY caught Jess’ attention was a stone gray building tucked between two larger ones. It had a simple square base, but had a noticeable tilt to it. It had a staircase that wrapped around it’s walls and led to the roof, where a smaller room sat atop, equally slanted. A wooden sign hung from above the door and had the words “Glass Art” on it. Purple, pink, and blue glass shards and chimes were held by opaque strings from the overhang; there was a large, round, beautiful stained glass window with the same colors beside the door.

The glass art reminded Jess of Ivor and his potions. Man… How is Ivor? Is he doing alright? Is he worried? Hopefully he’s not working himself to the bone trying to find a way to save him and Olivia. Jess couldn’t wait to get back home and give that old man a big ol’ hug.

Come to think of it, has anyone mentioned anything about potions while they’ve been here? He doesn’t remember Olivia’s book talking about them, nor any of Aiden’s friends bringing them up… Are there no potions here? Or maybe there’s a lack of materials? They couldn’t go to the Nether or mine without a license--which STILL boggles Jess’ mind--so that probably made gathering resources hard. How would Ivor react to this? He’d probably say: ‘Pah! A universe without potions is a miserable one. Back in my day, we’d travel hundreds of miles to find the finest ingredients for our--’

“Jess!” He heard Olivia call his name. He spun around and saw her and Aiden standing under a stone arch. Olivia had her hands on her hips.

“You done dreamin’?” Aiden asked.

Jess didn’t realize how far he had strayed from the two. He hurried over and joined them at the arch.

“Sorry, sorry, I was busy thinking.” He skidded to a halt and fixed his beanie.

“Just glad nobody saw you.” Aiden said, “I almost stopped her from calling you cause I wanted to see how far you’d walk off.”

“Could you imagine if he got caught like that?” Olivia asked, “One moment he’s strolling through the streets, and the next he’s being pounced on by guards all because he was too busy sightseeing.” Her and Aiden chuckled at the thought.

“Oh, so it’s a crime to appreciate a town now?” Jess dramatically placed his hands on his hips, mimicking Olivia’s posture.

“It's illegal for you.” Aiden said, “Now come on, there’s a shortcut through the park.”

Aiden walked through the moss-covered stone arch. On each side of the arch were thick, green hedges that boxed in the park. Olivia noticed that, unlike the buildings in this town, the hedges didn’t form an actual shape; it would jut in and out at random, creating odd angles and corners. It was strange but charming.

A path that started under the arch and looped around the area, creating a horseshoe-like shape. Aiden ignored the path and continued walking straight through the grass. Olivia saw the usual things most parks had: Benches, lampposts, a sign telling people not to litter. She also noticed leftover chalk on the sidewalk, laying right beside children’s drawings of stick figures and hopscotch.

Obsidian Town’s park was small, nice, simple, and… Honestly a little dark. The thick clouds were already blocking most of the sun’s light, but the few, tall, thick trees had branches that hid nearly every inch of the sky. Despite how dim it was, Olivia could still spot wild flowers sprinkled around the grass, along with the bugs buzzing around them.

Honestly--and Olivia felt bad thinking this--she preferred this sort of park over whatever the heck Beacon Town had going on. Yes, Beacon Town was great in it’s own way. People could build whatever they wanted, and that’s wonderful, but sometimes she’d just like to take a walk without a constant ruckus surrounding her. Sometimes she just wanted peace and quiet--

“That guy’s missing his entire head!” Jess suddenly whisper-shouted as he lightly shook Olivia. Her heart started beating frantically as she hurriedly spun her head around. Her mind was going all over the place. Was it a decapitated corpse? A strange, alternate-universe monster? Or--or--

It was a statue.

“Jess, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” She sighed with relief.

“Sorry,” He took his hands off of her and pointed, “check it out though!”

Both Olivia and Aiden were looking at the statue now. It was a man frozen midrun, an axe held back--stuck in a swinging motion--while the other hand held up his battered shield, which covered his face. If he had a face, that is. It had to be The Impossible Man. Olivia wasn’t sure who else it could’ve been.

“He’s definitely seen better days.” She said under her breath. Besides his entire head missing, a majority of his body was covered in dirt, children’s chalk, and other strange stains. Cracks started from his broken neck and traveled to his chest, his armor was chipped and scratched, and a good portion of his axe had broken off as well.

“Yeah, I think there’s a couple more statues around here?” Aiden mentioned as they continued walking, “They’re all in pretty bad shape. The kids like to mess with them.”

Aiden scanned the park. “There’s one,” He pointed to the upper corner on the left side of the park. A statue was placed on a podium right in front of a tree. Despite the fact one of his legs was missing, he appeared to be sitting comfortably, gazing at the tree tops peacefully.

“Annnndddd…” Aiden kept turning his head in different directions, “I’m pretty sure there was a head somewhere… Oh!” He spun around, walking backwards now as he pointed to the direction of the entrance. Jess and Olivia followed his finger, their eyes landed on a wooden bench--and right beside it was a small column with a broken bust of the man on top. Olivia couldn’t make out much of the man’s face from here, but she kept getting the eerie feeling that his fractured eyes were somehow watching her. Constantly. Unblinking. She shuddered.

“You think the quakes are the reason they’re missing some parts?” She heard Jess ask aloud.

“I find it really hard to believe they somehow stood through all of those quakes and just lost a head or a leg. They might've been stolen.” Olivia theorized.

Jess put his hand on his chin, stroking an imaginary beard, “I think I remember seeing Hadrian have a couple of statue parts at his place…”

“What? You think old people just like to steal random body parts during their free time?” She grinned.

“That’s what I’d like to do when I retire!” He chuckled. Olivia rolled her eyes playfully.

The three came to a stop in front of a wall of hedge that stood a couple inches taller than Aiden. Unlike the rest of the hedges, this one probably hasn’t been trimmed in months. The surface was extremely uneven; hundreds of tiny branches and leaves stuck out and got tangled with one another. This hedge was also covered in flowers. Tons of them. Clusters of fluffy-looking, light pink flowers were scattered throughout, and were nearly as big as Olivia’s face. The ground was covered in old petals.

Olivia made sure that every strand of hair was tucked inside her hood. There was no way she wanted to spend the rest of the day picking out the twigs, leaves, and petals that’d get stuck in there.

Aiden walked to the right, staring into the bush and running his hand over it as he mumbled to himself, trying to remember where the shortcut was. Olivia and Jess awkwardly shuffled along. Aiden soon stopped, crouched down, then put his hand into the bush. He then took it out, huffed, scooched over a couple more inches, and repeated the process.

After a minute of searching, Aiden started talking to himself. “Maybe it’s on the left side? I could’ve sworn we--!” Aiden suddenly fell forward and into a large hole in the hedge.

Man, if Aiden hadn’t fell through, Olivia would’ve also thought he’d forgotten where the entrance was. The branches hid the hole well.

Jess helped Aiden to his feet. Aiden thanked him as he moved aside, motioning towards the hole.

“You guys go ahead.” Aiden said, “I’ll wait for you to go through.”

Jess and Olivia glanced at each other before Jess gave her a little bow, “After you.”

“How kind.” Olivia curtsied. She crouched and crawled through. The dirt was already making her pants a little damp.

Luckily, despite a few scratches, the crawl only lasted a few seconds.

She got up, cleaned herself off, and waited for the boys.

Jess’ head soon popped out from the hole. Leaves and tiny branches were caught in his hair. He wriggled himself out and brushed off his clothes.

“Here, let me help with your hair.” Olivia started plucking the sticks out.

“Thanks!” Jess said happily as he took off and shook the leaves off his beanie.

It was quiet for a couple of moments as they cleaned themselves up. Olivia felt her smile twitch.

“Hey, Jess,” She started slowly, “I’m… I’m sorry.”

Jess put his hat back on, “What for?”

“I know you don’t have the best feelings towards Aiden right now,” She stared at her feet, “I hope it doesn’t feel like I’m dragging you along.”

“What? No, no, no!” Jess exclaimed, “Look, I was real mad last night, but I wanted to go with you!”

Olivia brought her head back up to Jess, a tiny smile of relief on her face.

“And I’m sticking to my word. We’ll stick together no matter what.” Jess shoved his hands into his pockets. “And uh… We don’t really have a choice when it comes to trusting Aiden and his friends, but things aren’t gonna get better if I keep blowing up like I did yesterday--” A sudden grunt interrupted Jess and caused both of them to jump.

They turned to see Aiden struggling to get out of the bush. How much did he hear? Hopefully not too much. Hopefully.

Aiden tries to use his free arm to pull the rest of his body out, but after a few more seconds he stopped fighting and let his face fall to the ground.

“... I’m stuck again.” He could hear Olivia and Jess snicker as they grabbed his hand and began to pull. They were able to pull him out in no time.

“Thanks.” Aiden said as he shook off the dirt--and the embarrassment. “The memorials are on the other side of the cemetery. Should only take a minute to get there.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When they entered the cemetery, Jess kept his eyes peeled for any familiar names on the gravestones. A few graves had rather unusual colors to them. There was a dusty red one, an uncommon shade, but not odd. Then he’d walk by a blue one; he’s never seen a grave that color before--well, Reuben’s memorial had bits of blue in it, does that count?--Then he walked by a purple grave, a green one, an orange one?

“This is… The happiest looking cemetery I’ve ever seen.” Olivia said as she beheld the rest of the graveyard.

“Is that a compliment?” Aiden asked.

Olivia kept staring at tombstones until she finally said “I don’t know, I’ve just never seen a place for the dead look so… Lively.”

Taking in the rest of the graveyard, Jess had to agree . What was usually a dark, gloomy, dreary place was so, so vibrant. Even under this cloudy, dull weather, the many colors still popped. This was more like a miniature festival than a cemetery! Many tombstone tops looked like roofs with their pointed tops and little overhangs. Their heights and widths would range from short and broad to tall and scrawny. Heck, Jess could spot a couple of graves as tall as him.

“What the heck are your cemeteries like?” Aiden glanced back at them.

“Plainer colors, I guess?” Jess shrugged, “You know, blacks, grays, browns, nothing too flashy.” The only exception Jess could think of was, once again, Reuben's memorial.

“Really?” Aiden sounded genuinely baffled by this. “We hardly got any of those. What do they mean?”

Olivia and Jess exchanged confused expressions with each other before Jess faced Aiden again, “Sadness? Loss? I don’t think there’s any real meaning behind those colors, honestly.”

“Right, we don’t typically associate bright colors with the dead.” Olivia added in, viewing the cemetery again. Scrawny trees and tiny flowers with stems that reached her knees that were peppered around the area; most were in between the graves. She thought about Aiden’s question, “I’m assuming the colors here represent something specific?”

“Yeah, buncha things. Too many for me to keep track of, but I remember the important ones.” Aiden started as they continued walking down the damp dirt path. “When a person dies, their friends and family can choose the color of their grave. It’s usually… Like… Hm. It’s supposed to show what the person was like when they were alive, ya know? Yellow for the happy people,” He explained while pointing to a shorter grave of said-color, “orange for determination, that sorta stuff. Stella’s memorized ‘em all. If you ever wanna know more, she’s the person to ask.”

As Aiden kept talking, Olivia and Jess kept taking in their surroundings. Jess had noticed something. Every single grave they passed was decorated with gems. The gems were placed close by the names and dates of those who passed, and seeing so many of them in various shapes, colors, and sizes made him curious…

“Hey, uh, what’s with the gems?” Jess spoke up, “Are they real?” He was wondering if maybe they were regular stones that were carved and painted. There was no way Obsidian Town could have an overabundance of minerals, especially since the citizens needed a mining license.

“Nah, they’re glass.” Aiden replied, “I thought they were real myself until we had to choose some gems for Lukas--” He suddenly stopped in his tracks. Jess and Olivia peered over and saw a lit redstone torch placed in front of a grave. Aiden plucked the torch from its place, a scowl on his face as he blew out the flame then chucked the burnt wood across the cemetery.

“Anyways, what was I sayin’?” He began walking again, as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

‘What was that about?’ Jess thought to himself. It must’ve been linked to the cult, right? Why else would Aiden have done that?

“Right!” He snapped his fingers,” So the gems are basically like the colors of the graves. We had to go to this special place where the people there pulled out huge chests filled with those things. Took us forever to pick ‘em out.”

“Each color chosen means something for the person that passed…” Jess whispered to himself as Aiden’s words from earlier echoed through his mind. He was rather fond of how Obsidian Town remembered their dead. It was more uplifting than what he was used to. Maybe he could make some changes to the graveyards once they get back to Beacon Town.

Aiden was quiet for a minute before he added, “Gill took the longest. He was real worried his gem wouldn’t be good enough.” He paused. “He… he ended up crying.”

His voice got quieter, “I hated seeing him like that.”

Jess and Olivia both tried to think of what to say, what ‘s the next best thing to do, but Aiden immediately changed the subject.

“What do you guys put on your graves?” Aiden asked, he sounded ‘normal’ again, but kept facing away from the two.

Jess hesitated, “Names. Dates.”

“A description of the person who passed.” Olivia added.

“Just words? Doesn’t that get a little… Depressing?” Aiden narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, you think that’s sad? We once wrote out an entire dictionary on a guy’s grave back in our universe.” Jess answered jokingly. Olivia let out a little giggle, and they even heard a chuckle out of Aiden.

That small chuckle was all Jess needed to hear to continue telling quips and share short, funny stories at Aiden’s way to try and lighten the mood. Aiden was soon sharing his own experiences mixed in with his own humor. Aiden and Jess were bouncing off of each other, making fun of their own universes while Olivia would throw in her commentary every now and then.

‘This is so weird…’ Olivia thought to herself. The three of them laughing while walking through a cemetery… it’s something that’d usually feel inappropriate to do, but here she wasn’t all that bothered.

This whole experience has been surreal. Entering a rainbow of a cemetery through a bush felt like something that’d only happen in her dreams, yet here she was. Honestly, it was a nice change of pace to not feel worried for her and her friend’s life for a moment.

She had nearly forgotten the dread she felt when she originally suggested coming here.

And then Aiden spoke up.

“Okay, okay, we’re finally--” Aiden stopped. “Here.” All happiness in his tone had left.

That didn’t sound good. That didn’t sound good at all. Olivia grabbed onto the string of her hoodie and began to pull on it as she slowly peered over Aiden. Standing before him were two graves. Olivia’s eyes were drawn to the shorter one. She trailed down the grave, the coral color fading into a deep shade of red until she stopped at the flowers laying beside a lit, redstone torch.

Olivia held her breath. Jess got close to her as Aiden approached the torch. He grabbed it by it’s barely-scorched base and brought it to his face to blow out the flame. Instead of throwing it away like the last one, he just placed it to the side, only a few feet away from the grave. He wore an expression neither of them have ever seen on him before. Fear? Heartache? Pain.

“We’re here.” He said again. His voice completely devoid of energy. His body was stiff as he walked to the side of the grave, with his hands curled into tight fists and placed at his sides. There was another redstone torch placed in front of the grave to the right, but Aiden didn’t say anything. Olivia took a few small steps forward and gave him a small nod.

As she knelt down in front of the grave--in front of her grave--she heard Aiden tell Jess ‘Come on’, followed by the sound of footsteps growing distant.

She sat alone at her grave.

She didn’t want to read the text. She really didn’t. Isn’t that funny? That was one of the main reasons she wanted to come here. To see if there was a chance she could read about her death, what happened to her, but now that she was here, she was terrified. She looked everywhere else but the epitaph before her. She stared at the small bouquet of flowers on the dirt--the dirt… She noticed it seemed… Messier compared to the other graves. Like someone tried digging through it. The bouquet, though! There was a mix of flowers held together by a red ribbon. Clusters of tiny, magenta flowers, a few pointed, white flowers with many petals, and a type of flower she actually knew the name of: Lilys.

She then brought her gaze up, catching a quick glimpse of her name written in gold, to observe the gems placed into the tombstone. Two orange gems, one yellow, one gold, another maroon, and the gem in the center was amber. They formed an arch around the words in the center.

‘Stop avoiding it.’ She told herself, but she didn’t listen. She turned to Lukas’ grave. She had to see his. She had to. It was right here and--and he’s her friend.

His grave was turquoise and had thin, white stripes that stretched across the top, and seven gems instead of six. Three on each side, and the last gem placed above his epitaph. He was given flowers as well.

The words engraved in the stone read: “LUKAS: Courageous and loyal. An inspiring leader and a brilliant friend.”

Short but wonderful. It was perfect. Reading it over and over again, she thought about just how lucky she and Jess were with having their friend still around. He’s done so much for them. Constantly helping Jess run Beacon Town, aiding the citizens, always visiting her and Axel whenever he got the chance… He could’ve left them during that Witherstorm. He could’ve ditched them at any moment when things got too rough, but he never did.

‘I need to give Lukas a hug when I get back.’ Olivia thought to herself. Lukas could still leave them one day without warning. He could finally get sick of them, die in a brutal fight, or--or end up being kidnapped like this Lukas--Olivia squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to get those awful thoughts out. Don’t think about that. He’s still alive. He still cares about them. He loves them.

Olivia kept her eyes closed for a moment longer before finally bringing her attention back to her own grave. She forced herself to read the words written for her; “OLIVIA: An intelligent, creative, and hardworking engineer. A bright spark of joy even during the darkest of days.”

Olivia stared at her words. A weird sense of reassurance was arising. She’s never thought highly of herself. She’d sometimes convince herself that others couldn’t tolerate her, and that she was one mistake away from ruining everything. She wondered if this Olivia ever felt a similar way. Was she constantly trying to make sure she said and did the right things? Try to fix any issue immediately so her friends didn’t think she was useless? Always second guessing her own thoughts?

Did this Olivia know her friends always loved her? Or was she riddled with fears and doubts until her sudden end?

‘She died a couple of years ago, didn’t she?’ Olivia tried to recall any mention of her death from Aiden. She wasn’t certain, but whether it was a few years ago, or a few months ago, didn’t change the fact that she died so soon.

She was young.

Younger than her.

To have her life end on an abrupt note… It scared her. It scared her so much. Everything could be taken away one day.

As she sat over her body, she felt her fingers begin to dig into the dirt, like they were trying to reach in and find the other Olivia’s hand. A sick form of curiosity made her want to know more. More about this Olivia. Her life. Her mind. To have a connection with her. It was her body she was sitting over, afterall. Her corpse. Her--

“Olivia?” Jess placed his hand on her shoulder. “Are you doing okay?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Come on.” Aiden gave Jess a light tap with his hand. He started walking away from Olivia. Jess hesitated. He looked at his friend for a second more before leaving with Aiden.

“We just needa give her some space.” Aiden said.

“Right, totally understand.” Jess wanted to stick around for a few minutes longer to study his friends’ graves, but that could wait. He didn’t want to make Olivia feel like he was breathing down her neck.

Jess thought back to the many instances where his friends’ lives were in danger, when they were so close to being taken away from him. He hated seeing his friends’ lives at stake more than anything; he’d go through Hell and back to protect them, and to be in a place where their deaths became a reality was so hard to wrap his head around.

Lukas left without a trace. No familiar faces to comfort him during his last moments, only enemies looming over him while he was in an unknown place. Just thinking about his fate made Jess worry sick about his Lukas back at home.

It was silent for a few minutes. Only their footsteps filled the void.

“So…” Jess started, wanting to make small talk, “What do the colors for Olivia and Lukas’ graves mean?”

“Olivia’s creativity.” Aiden replied, sounding short. “And Lukas’--” He paused and scanned the cemetery. He took a left turn and continued walking between the graves. “He’s…Don’t make fun of us, but his color stands for friendship.”

“Friendship?” Jess perked up at the word.

“I know, it’s probably super cheesy or whatever, but it fits him. It really does.” Aiden said.

“No, no, I completely agree! He’s a great friend--one of the best! If I had to recount all the times he’s been there for me, we’d be here all day.”

“Right. Same here.” They stopped at another grave with another redstone torch in front of it. This grave was short and purple, with many cool-colored gems placed in it. Jess didn’t recognize the name.

Aiden grabbed the torch and blew out the flame. Jess decided to ask another question.

“Any idea why The Awakening puts those torches there?”

“Probably for no good reason.” Aiden answered through gritted teeth as he chucked the wood as hard as he could across the cemetery.

There was something unnerving about the torches left at the grave. Their red glow would take over the colors of the graves, and their light under a thick, cloudy sky would claim your attention and make it hard to pull away. Their soft crackling would fill in the silence whenever he and Aiden didn’t talk; the occasional loud snaps from the flames would make Jess believe there was a threat following them.

Jess stopped at a tombstone and picked up a vase of flowers that had fallen aside. “The gems on their graves, what do they mean? Do you remember ‘em?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’d remember what the gems on my own friends’ graves would mean!” Aiden snapped.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that!” Jess held the vase tighter. “I was just--I wanted to know more about them.” Great. Now they’re both feeling terrible.

Aiden’s demeanor softened when he saw Jess’ reaction. “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ve been--” He hesitated, “I’ve just been thinking about someone is all.”

“No, it’s no problem.” Jess carefully placed the small vase back upright. He folded his arms and joined Aiden’s side.

“I’m uh, still interested to hear bout those gems if you’re wanting to share.” He said.

“Yeah. I can do that for ya.” Aiden answered.

“For Lukas,” Aiden began, walking through the grass. “Gill chose blue. I remember that one’s loyalty. Gold for compassion. White for safety--he’d always double check our belongings every time to make sure we were prepared.”

Aiden stopped and grabbed a torch, “It was kinda annoying, but I miss it now.” He blew it out and threw the wood.

They kept moving.

“Rose picked pink.” Aiden started running his fingers over the grave tops, “She was real embarrassed when she chose it. Kept refusing to show us cause she thought we’d laugh at her.”

“I’m guessing pink’s for love?” Jess said, trying to make sure he wouldn’t trample any flowers.

“Yeah, and--” Aiden chuckled, “Rose wanted his description to be: Pretty blond dork with a decent sense of style. All of us were actually on board with it.”

“Did you end up pulling through with it?” Jess asked.

“Nah, the guys making the grave wouldn’t allow it.” Aiden spotted a couple of gravestones with torches by them. They were already burnt out. He grabbed two of the torches while Jess grabbed the last.

“What a bunch of killjoys.” Jess joked. Aiden laughed as he prepared to throw the burnt wood. Jess mimicked each step of Aiden’s. Hold, aim, then throw. Once they lost sight of the rubbish, they followed the dirt path to the entrance of the cemetery.

The cemetery wasn’t boxed in by hedges like the park, instead, it had a stone wall.

Aiden leaned against the wall. It didn’t look like the most comfortable surface--the rocks were jagged and would probably fall apart in moments--but he seemed unaffected by it. Jess stood nearby and took a peek through the gate beside them. Unlike the rough, uneven walls, the black fence was tall, sturdy, and had a huge, elegantly curved arch.

“Olivia’s got a few similar gems,” Aiden started, putting his hands in his pocket, “Two golds, yellow… She’s got amber--Man, I always mix those three up. They sound different enough but when they’re placed by each other, they all look the same. Amber’s slightly darker than yellow, but not as dark as gold. Amber’s positivity.”

“Lotta happy ones for her.” Jess commented. He’d been staring at the decorated buildings through the gate’s bars as he listened. He could spot bits of pots filled with flowers on the other side of the wall, their colors as eye-catching as the cemetery.

“Always made us happy.” Aiden said with a shrug. “She also had… Ah…” He pressed his lips together, “Orange! She had that one too. And then there’s…” He had to stop to think again.

“It’s not… Well, it looks like red, but it’s darker… Ah, shoot.” Aiden cursed to himself.

“Carmine? Maroon?” Jess tilted his head.

Aiden snapped his fingers, “Maroon! Right! Creativity; same thing as her grave. Picked it myself.” He said rather proudly.

“You guys really cared about her.” Jess mumbled. He tilted his head towards Aiden, “And I’m sure Olivia loved you guys all the same.”

Aiden stared back at him.

A small smile spread across his face, “Thanks.”

The two became quiet and looked over the array of colorful graves before them. The clouds slowly began to part; gems glistened as the rays of sun shone down on them.

“Should we check on Olivia now?” Jess asked after a few minutes of silence.

Aiden got off the stone wall and stretched his back, “Yeah, let’s go.”

~ ~ ~ ~

When the two returned to Olivia, the last thing they wanted to see was to see her in distress. The tips of her fingers were shoved into the dirt below, her eyes were stuck on the golden words in front of her, her mouth was parted--barely moving--with no voice to match. Jess couldn’t tell if she was trembling or not, but she was scared. Very scared.

Jess bit his lip and approached his friend. Aiden was right behind.

“Olivia?” Jess placed his hand on her shoulder, “Are you doing okay?”

Olivia jumped and jerked her hands out of the dirt.

“Yes--! Yeah, no, no don’t worry, I’m fine. Thanks--thank you for checking on me.” She replied frantically. She took deep breaths.

Before Jess could question anything, Olivia spoke up.

“Aiden, this uh--the substance mixed into the stone,” Her fingers trailed down the tombstone, “is it redstone dust?”

Her voice was shaky.

Aiden glanced at Jess, who was equally nervous as him, then said, “Actually, it is.”

He took a step closer to Olivia, “They don’t usually allow people to mix stuff like redstone or glowstone dust with the colors--especially cause they’re hard to find--but they made an exception for us.”

Olivia nodded along, blinking back tears.

Jess read her epitaph, “Guess all Olivia’s are just the greatest engineers out there, huh?”

“Damn right. She didn’t have a bunch of dust to work with, but she’d still crank out machine after machine like no tomorrow.” Aiden said, “Man, I remember every year for her birthday that’d be all she’d ever ask for. Not weapons, not new journals, not even a dang cake, just redstone dust. Course, the only places you could find ‘em were in caves or old shrines, right?” He asked while facing Lukas’ grave and grabbing the lit redstone torch below.

“Yup, we found a bunch of it yesterday.” Jess said, sitting besides Olivia.

“Right, and since it was so dangerous, she told us to not worry bout gettin’ it because ‘It’d be stupid to risk your life for some red powder’.” Aiden gestured with the torch, the flame getting frighteningly close to his hair.

“Well, I’d always lose track of dates and forget to get her a gift, so one of the other guys would back me up and tell Olivia we bought a gift ‘together’, and I felt so bad.” He thankfully blew out the fire after saying that.

“So then guess what I did one day?” Aiden said.

“Walked out and found a bag of redstone on the ground?” Jess asked sarcastically.

Aiden laughed, “I wish.”

Aiden began pacing, the trail of smoke whirling around him, “But I decided I’d bust into one of those dumb shrine and find some dust for her, and I didn’t tell anyone bout it besides Jesse. He was on board with the plan, he was great at findin’ stuff, plus two people finding dust was much easier than one.” Aiden fiddled with the burnt wood, “We headed off to the nearest shrine and actually found enough dust to fill up a bag and a half, but cause of the state of that dump, some rooms would collapse after you opened the door!”

“You two ended up getting hurt, didn’t you?” Olivia had her hand on her head, already concerned over the direction of this story.

“Course we did!” Aiden threw his arms up. “I swear anytime the two of us were together, things would fall apart or we’d break a bone--” Aiden stopped his talking to quickly chuck the wood away. “Anyways, anyways, we got back home right on time for Olivia’s birthday and man did we look awful. Clothes were all dirty, got some real bad scrapes on my knees, Jesse grabbed so much dust it looked like his fingers were covered in blood, and I somehow got a black eye? I think the top of a chest smacked me...”

Olivia rubbed her temples, “You two really shouldn’t have risked your lives over a birthday present--”

“That’s exactly what she said!” Aiden exclaimed, “Went through all that trouble, and you know how she reacted?”

“Panicked?” Olivia asked.

“Bet she loved it.” Jess said, giving Olivia a nudge.

“She did--but Hero did she freak out! Dropped her cake and rushed over to get us cleaned up. Olivia was wrapping up one of Jesse’s arms--” Aiden thought to himself for a second, “--I think a big rock landed on it? But she was going off on us. Raising her voice and lecturing us like she was our mom, telling us it’s a miracle we were still in one piece, and why in Hero’s name we did something so stupid.”

“I mean, it wasn’t stupid if things worked out for you.” Jess pointed out.

“Yeah, but still.” Aiden chuckled, “It was stupid. It was so, so stupid. But after that, she loved our present. I’d never seen her smile so much. She was working on her machinery, telling me and Jesse how everything worked while we pretended to understand.”

Aiden carefully leaned on Olivia’s grave, “Hero knows I didn’t understand a single thing she was sayin’, but seeing her so happy…” His smile grew as his voice softened, “It was great.”

“That’s all so sweet…” Olivia spoke softly. “I love it.”

She was shaking again.

Jess turned to his friend to mention something, but stopped when he saw Olivia staring at the ground, fingers picking at the dirt just like she was when they came back. That same, terrified expression on her face.

“Liv--?” Jess mumbled, but Olivia started rambling nonsense.

“I don’t know if my words mean much to you--I know I’m not her--but you’re a good friend, Aiden.” Her nails started to dig into the ground, “All of this, all that you’ve done for Olivia--you--you--Even when I just--” She kept stumbling over her words, “Even when she died one day you kept being so kind to me--”

The more she kept talking, the more concerned--the more scared--Aiden and Jess became.

“Hey, hey are you alright?” Jess reached out to hold her, but Olivia shot her head back up.

“I’m under here.” She whispered. Her voice was so unsteady.

Jess was taken aback, “What?”

“I’m under here.” She said again. “I’m so close.”

Her hand began to claw at the dirt, “I’m so close. My body’s all mangled up in that box below, and--and my hair’s so long now.” She felt sick talking about this, she felt sick thinking about it. “It’d be so easy to just dig myself up. For Aiden to see her again. Jesse--Jess, we’re so close. I could look at myself. Look at my body. I’m--”

“Olivia!” Jess shook her, “Do you want to get out of here?”

Aiden wanted to offer his support, but Olivia instantly got on her feet.

“Yes. Yes I want to leave. I want to go home.” She kept repeating that last sentence while she hugged herself, breathing heavily. She was freezing.

“Right, we need to head back anyways.” Aiden’s stomach was in knots seeing Olivia like this. His hands turned to fists, “I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have taken you here. I’m sorry--”

“Don’t.” Olivia cut in. “I wanted to go. You took me. I saw--I saw what I needed to. I appreciate it. Thank you.” She was stiff as a board.

Olivia took one last deep breath, “Let’s go home.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Damn them.

Damn them all.

Locked every damn door and window in this house. They’re hiding her, he knows they’re hiding her.

Did they really think locking themselves in would stop him? He used to live in this Hero forsaken house; he knows every nail, screw, and plank that makes up this despicable place.

He still remembers that trapdoor on the roof. He knows how to claw his way up there. He’ll pry it open with his own bare hands.

He’ll find her.

He will.

#mcsm #minecraft story mode #mcsm aiden #mcsm jesse #mcsm olivia #THANK U ENORMOUS THIC THANK U TO FRIEND IVY!!!#for reading this over and helping...... appreciate it all VERY much....#HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!#will add more tags in later!!!!! in rush right now dhfgnfdgfngd

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hawkinspostbite · 4 years ago

Text

STRIKE

Words: 8,116

MASTERLIST

A/N: I do not claim to, nor do I own Stranger Things; the concept, characters, plot, etc.

MONDAY

Joanna stood right outside her locker, Carol, Nancy, and Diana standing around her. “So, strangely enough, I had to leave Billy’s last night. It was honestly embarrassing.” She sighed. “It’s never happened before, but I hit my sex breaking point.”

“Steve is unbelievable.” Di groaned, receiving questionable looks from the others. “Oh, I mean unbelievable in the way that he’s ridiculous. Checking on me every five seconds. I’m fine, just do what you’re doing, Jesus Christ.”

“If only I had your problem, I feel like Billy completely forgets I exist. Absolutely no control, and not a care for me.” Jo sighed.

“If I get within three feet of Tommy, he can’t keep his hands off of me. I can’t stand it.” Carol whined, examining her fingernails.

“Well at least your boyfriend likes you, I couldn’t tell you the last time Jonathan and I slept together.” Nancy counteracted.

“Jesus, we’re quite the mess, aren’t we?” Carol laughed pathetically. A few moments of silence passed.

“What if we went on a sex strike?” Jo spoke. Carol, Nancy, and Di looked at her in shock. “What-“

“That’s honestly not a bad idea.” Nancy said.

“Are you serious? That’s crazy.” Carol shrilled.

“Quiet down!” Jo swatted at her hand. “It’s not that crazy. It’ll be fun to watch them squirm.”

“They won’t even realize anything’s different.” Carol replied.

“One week, maybe not even- One week to prove to them that us and our needs are just as important as their’s.” Jo was becoming desperate to prove to the girls that this was in fact, a great idea. “By Friday, Carol, if Tommy can go without jumping your bones; Di, if Steve stops worrying about you; and Nancy, if Jonathan can’t keep his hand off of you, I win, and I get bragging rights. If not, I will treat you all to a shopping spree at the mall, no limit. And you can all say you told me so.”

“What about you?” Nancy asked.

“What about me?”

“What if you can’t get Billy to tend to you?”

“Then I’ll just look like a fool and continue to suffer.” Jo shrugged. “What do you say?”

“I say we get other girls in on this.” Di spoke up. The others look questioningly at her. “We can’t be the only four girls in Hawkins with bedroom issues. We should spread the word.”

“Damn.” Carol mumbled.

“You’re a genius.” Jo leaned over and kissed Di on the cheek. “Starting now, the female students of Hawkins high school are on a sex strike!” The four girls cheered, drawing the attention of passerby in the hallway. “We have to spread the word. I’ll take art.”

“I can cover gym.” Carol said.

“I have a double-period of English.” Di said.

“I guess I’ll cover science.” Nancy spoke.

The first period bell rang, interrupting their small power-trip. “Meet at lunch?” Jo asked. The others nodded, each of them smirking to themselves. The four girls went their separate ways, going to spread the word of their great idea.

Carol had gym first period. Normally she would stand, grumbling to herself against the bleachers, but today she almost made Mr. Sweeney keel over in shock from her participation in volleyball and her friendliness towards other students.

Nancy had science second period, and luckily for her, they had a group lab that day. Small notes, written in code were passed from female to female in the class.

Di had a double-period of honors English third and fourth, so her friend’s new plan made for interesting conversation between the girls at break.

Jo had art right before lunch, which made it a little more difficult to spread word, due to it being such a quiet class. But most of the work had already been done for her, because within the small whispers of the classroom, she heard talk of her master plan to rule against men.

Jo walked into the cafeteria, where she found Carol sitting with Tommy and Billy at their usual lunch table. “Hey babe.” Billy reached out to her, like he did every day. Jo ignored him, standing at the head of the table and seeing Nancy and Di waiting patiently at an empty table in the corner of the room.

“Carol, did you forget about that project we’re doing?” Jo whipped her head to look at her friend. “The others are waiting.”

“Oh shit! Yeah the project, totally forgot.” She pried herself away from Tommy’s grip, grabbing her bag and standing up.

“Hey, we don’t have a project in any class.” Billy said, his face twisting in confusion.

“Well we do.” Jo shrugged. “Super top-secret. You’re not allowed to know… And we’re pressed for time, sorry, bye.” She dragged Carol by her sleeve away from the table.

“Close one.” Carol sighed, sitting down next to Di.

“Yeah, I didn’t think I would’ve had to track you down though.” Jo rolled her eyes and sat next to Nancy.

“So have you heard the word around town yet?” Di asked proudly.

“Yeah, not much to talk about in a double-period of English is there?” Carol sneered.

“Jesus, must you be such a bitch all the time?” Jo snapped.

“Seriously?” Nancy groaned.

“I think the word is sufficiently spread.”

“I heard some freshman whispering about it in the hallway before third.” Carol smiled. “It’s definitely sufficiently spread.”

“So what’s the next move?” Nancy asked.

“We should have a party.” Jo said.

“I can’t host, my parents literally never leave the house.” Nancy sighed.

“I can’t either, my mom’s still pissed about the hole in the deck from the fourth of July.” Carol frowned.

The girls looked at Di. “Not even in the realm of possibility.”

“Fine, I can host.” Jo groaned. “I’ll just tell my dad to go away for the weekend or something.”

“He would do that?” Carol asked. “Like if you said, “dad just go away for the weekend”, he would?”

“Um, yes?”

“What if we made flyers?” Di asked. “Like maybe wallet-sized or something, so it would be harder for the guys to come across.”

“I could draw one up pretty quickly.” Jo shrugged.

“If we can find a way to make copies somehow, we can each give them out, and make official.”

Jo looked down at her watch. “There’s enough time for me to make a rough copy of the poster if I go now.” She gathered her things, standing from the bench.

“I’ll come with.” Carol grabbed her things as well.

“We can meet at my place after school.” Nancy said. “Mike will probably have his friends there, I’m sure one of them can help us figure out how to make copies of the poster.”

“If Max is there-“

“She would give her life for you Jo.” Di chuckled, making Jo smile.

“Alright, we’ll meet in the parking lot after school, see you then.”

Across the lunchroom, Billy watched as Jo and Carol left the room in a hurry. He had watched as they spent ten minutes talking with Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington’s new girlfriend, who he didn’t quite know the name of yet. That, the fact that Jo had left so suddenly last night, and her distance from him all day rubbed him the wrong way. “What do you think of that?” He asked Tommy.

“Those two being weird?”

“Yeah.”

“Well they’re always weird.”

Billy rolled his eyes, unsatisfied with his friend’s response. Hopefully, for both their sakes, Jo would stop being so strange.

In the empty art room, Jo scrambled quickly to find two pieces of poster-board and a marker. “So what’s the game-plan here?” Carol asked, sliding her backpack onto the big wooden table.

“A very rough draft of a sexy, female-empowering poster.” She concentrated on the paper as she scribbled Girls STRIKE at the top of the page, looking over at Carol questioningly.

“Yes, keep going.” Carol smiled.

Next, some random words at the bottom of the page, just to fill in the space. “What do I put in the middle?”

“Lips? Lipstick? The sign for females, you know, the one with the circle-”

“How about this?” Jo quickly drew the silhouette of a girl. “She can wear a dress. Or maybe not?”

“Right now she can just be a stick-figure.”

“But you get the idea?”

“Yeah I get the idea, I think it’s hot.”

“Well then we have our poster.” Jo high-fived Carol and rolled the paper up as the bell rang. The girls made their way to Jo’s locker where they placed the poster into safety.

At the end of the day, Jo retrieved the poster from her locker, meeting the others in the parking lot by Nancy’s car. “Come on, we’ve gotta go before the guys get out here!” Di squealed.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Jo and Carol climbed into the back of the car, leaving Di up front with Nancy and the middle for Mike.

“Hi boys.” Jo smiled at them as they climbed into the car.

“Just two of you today?” Nancy asked.

“Max, Dustin, and Will are coming over in a little bit. Max had to go home first and Steve’s gonna bring them over later. Hey.” Mike replied, suddenly noticing Jo’s appearance.

“We have a project.” Jo replied to Mike’s question he had yet to ask.

“Cool.”

Upon arrival at the Wheeler’s house, the four girls practically sprinted up to Nancy’s room, locking the door behind them. Jo pulled the poster out of her bag, laying it out on Nancy’s bed. “That’s…” Di began.

“Rough.” Nancy said.

“Yes, thank you.”

“But I think we get the picture.” Di smiled.

“So what exactly is the plan for the party? How are we supposed to keep guys from showing up?” Nancy asked.

“Or finding out?” Carol added.

“We aren’t.” Jo replied. “I mean, we’re supposed to try, but you know there’s no way to completely keep it from happening.”

“It’s like Hargrove has a built-in party-detector

“We need to try our best to make sure that other girls keep it as quiet as possible.” Di added.

“We should have a dress-code for the party.” Carole burst out.

“Like…?” Jo asked.

“Black and red.” Carole grinned. “Those are powerful colors.”

“Leather and lace optional?” Jo said, jokingly.

“That’s going on the poster!” Nancy agreed.

The girls continued to work out the details of the party, arrival time, alcohol, music, etcetera, and Jo noticed that Steve had dropped off the other kids. She left Nancy’s room, opening the door to the basement, she was met with immense noise. All six sets of eyes turned to look at her. “Max, can I talk to you upstairs quick?”

Max, confused, followed Jo up the stairs, back to Nancy’s room. Upon seeing the poster on the bed, she stopped dead in her tracks. “What is going on?”

“We need your help.” Nancy said.

“What are you guys doing? Organizing some weird sex strike or something?” Max laughed nervously.

“Actually, yes.” Jo said.

“You’re joking- That was a joke. Are you serious?” Jo nodded. “That’s disgusting, I did not need to know that.”

“Relax Maxine, sex is a part of life-“ Carol smiled.

“Jesus Christ, Carol! The last thing I need is Billy finding out that we gave Max a bootleg sex-ed class in Nancy’s bedroom, oh my god.” Jo snapped at her.

“So what exactly did you need help with?” Max walked up to the bed, further examining the poster.

“We need help making copies of this, to pass out to other girls.” Jo answered.

“We were thinking maybe wallet-sized, or a little bigger?” Di added.

“I know how to copy and print and everything, but we figured that the schools wouldn’t be too happy knowing that we were producing sex-strike posters to hand out on campus.” Nancy shrugged.

“Yeah, I can imagine…” Max sighed.

“But we know you have an in at the library-“ Jo began.

“I work there on weekends, yes.”

“Do you think we could get in this week to make copies?” Jo smiled. “Please Max, I’ll do anything. I’ll take Billy off your case for as long as I can, I’ll even take you and your friends out for pizza and ice cream next week. Literally anything, just please get us twenty minutes in the library copy room.”

Jo was practically on the floor, begging Max. She pursed her lips. “You and Nancy pick me up after school tomorrow. I’ll tell Marissa that I need the copy machine for a school project.”

“Thank you so much Max!” Jo jumped up from the floor, wrapping her arms around the younger girl.

“You owe me so much.”

“I’ve never broken a promise before.” Jo held her pinkie out, locking it with Max’s.

Max left Nancy’s room, still feeling slightly uncomfortable, and she rejoined her friends in the basement. “What did she want?” Will asked.

“Something stupid about my brother.” Max rolled her eyes, playing it off.

“I still don’t understand how they’re together.” Lucas said.

“What do you mean?” Max asked.

“Your brother is like the biggest asshole on planet Earth, and Jo is like-“

“The total opposite!” Dustin interrupted. “She’s into art, and she’s quiet, and she’s nice to us. I don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it either.” Lucas agreed.

“Me either.” Mike said.

“I don’t get it just as much as you guys.” Max shrugged.

Upstairs, Jo had rolled the poster back up, in preparation to leave. “I’ve got to head out before it gets too dark.”

“Prince Bad-ass in his blue chariot isn’t going to come give you a lustrous ride all the way to Trestle road?” Carol snickered.

Jo patted at the poster in her hand. “Nope, it would ruin the plan.”

“He’s gonna be pretty pissed when he finds out you walked home by yourself.”

“So come with me?” Jo raised her eyebrows. “You can spend the night. We’ll stop at your house, you can pick up some clothes.”

Carol sighed. “I suppose I could.” She turned to gather her things. “Your dad home? He gonna let us drink?”

“It’s Wednesday for god’s sake.” Jo rolled her eyes. “Di, you wanna walk?”

“No, I’m gonna hang here until Steve comes for Dustin, but thanks anyway.”

“Be careful.” Nancy waved them goodbye.

“Play it cool, see you tomorrow!” Jo yelled back.

The two girls began their sunset-trek from Maple street to Pine, where they stopped at Carol’s house. Her mother was at the grocery store, and her father had yet to return from work, but her older brother was there. “Hey, we’re gonna need you to get us some supplies for a party Friday.” Carol said, writing a quick note to her parents about her whereabouts.

“Don’t I get an invite?” He asked.

Carol snickered. “Not with that thing hanging between your legs.”

“Sorry, girls only.” Jo shrugged. Carol and Jo retreated into her room briefly, for Carol to pack an overnight bag. Her phone began to ring. “I didn’t know you got your own line?”

“It’s the latest addition.” Carol set her bag down and walked over to the phone. “As you can imagine, only one person really calls it. And I’m sure that’s who this is now- Hello?”

Surely it was Tommy.

“Yeah I’m sleeping over at Jo’s.

I know we were at Nancy’s all night, for that project we told you about at lunch?

“Uh, well- What class is this project for?” She held the receiver to her shoulder, blocking sound from traveling to Tommy.

“Art?” Jo answered, questionably.

“It’s an art project Jo has. She needed us all together but she has to work with us separately. We ran out of time at Nancy’s so we’re going to her house.

Yeah, my mom’s gonna give us a ride.

Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.”

“Jesus Christ.” She hung up the phone, and then unplugged it. “I’ll save my folks some grief.”

Carol finished packing her bag as the sun set, and the girls finished their walk, two streets over to Trestle road, where Jo lived. “Hey dad, I’m home, and I brought Carol with me.”

Jo’s dad sat in their small living room, half-asleep as the television lulled in the background. “Hey girls, what are we up to tonight.”

“I have an art project that I need Carol’s help with if that’s okay. She’s gonna spend the night.”

“Fine by me, just make sure you two are up for school in the morning.”

“Thanks dad, love you.”

“There’s pizza in the fridge by the way, and anything else you want, just help yourselves.” Carole smiled at Jo’s dad’s kindness. “By the way, Billy called. He seemed worried, you might wanna call him back.”

Jo rolled her eyes.

Jo and Carol went down the steps, into the basement, which had been fortified as a bedroom for Jo. Quite frankly, it was the best hangout spot any of their friends had. It had a bed, 2 couches, a small television and radio, an attached bathroom, and a pool table, making it the ideal place for drinking, smoking, and sleeping, and now, secretive “art” projects.

Carol unrolled the two posters, laying the scribbled one next to the blank one. Jo picked up the phone connected to the wall, dialing Billy’s number and hoping that whatever god was listening, made him not pick up. Lucky for her, he didn’t, so she proceeded to leave a quick message on his answering machine. “Hey baby, it’s me. Don’t be mad… But Carol and I walked from Nancy’s home after school… C is sleeping over, we’re still working on that project. I’m guessing you’re pretty pissed at me, and you’re probably out drinking or something like that. Be careful. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”

“That was disgustingly cute.” Carol snickered from the floor.

“Yeah, and he won’t suspect a thing. Plus tomorrow we’ll fight about the fact that I walked home, so he won’t even care about the mysterious project anymore.”

Jo gathered her markers and watercolors and sat down next to Carol. “So honestly, you can turn the T.V on, you don’t have to sit and watch me try to perfect this.”

“It’s fine, I like to watch artists work.” She settled herself more comfortably onto the floor, holding a pillow in her lap.

“I am by no means, an “artist”, but I appreciate your enthusiasm. Go put a record on.” Jo hated to make Carol get up after she had gotten comfortable, but she couldn’t work in silence.

“I don’t know how you expect to work with this absolute masterpiece playing in the background, but to each their own…” Of all the records to pick, Carol had chosen Queen’s, “Jazz”.

“You’re totally right, why would you put this on?”

Carol threw herself onto the couch. “Because I don’t want to listen to anything depressing while we’re plotting a sex strike.”

“Right.” Jo nodded her head.

For quite awhile, Jo worked on the poster, while Carol watched over her, quietly humming to the music. Occasionally, they would burst out singing, and laugh, and then return to work.

After three hours, a short pizza break, and only one “maybe we should rethink this whole plan” dilemma, the sun had completely gone down outside, no light peered in from the singular tiny window across the room. The poster was complete. “That’s a keeper, for sure.” Carol admired the artwork laid out on the floor.

“I’m quite honestly shocked that I did it with such little preparation.” She turned around to look at her friend. “Do you think it’ll get the point across?”

“I mean everyone basically knows from word-of-mouth anyway, this is just a seal-the-deal type of thing. I think it should be fine.”

“Not too much information? I mean, it doesn’t say my house but nobody else lives on this street except for Mrs. Goldson.”

“Yeah, she’s deaf.”

“Exactly-“

“No, I think we’ll be fine. Stop worrying. This is gonna be awesome.” Carol climbed down from the couch, sitting face-to-face with her best friend. “We’re gonna get to watch them sweat. Can you imagine their faces when they realize what’s going on? It’ll be priceless.”

Jo raised her eyebrows. “This isn’t a little cruel?”

“The whole reason we’re doing this is because we need paid attention to! Who gives a shit what they want, it’s time for them to cater to us. We’re women, damn it! Without us, nobody would be here, so they’re gonna start being a little more grateful for our presence.” Carol grinned.

“In the end, we’re gonna win, regardless.”

TUESDAY

After Jo’s pep-talk, and a shot, for an extra boost of courage, the two girls went to bed. The next morning, Jo’s dad drove the two of them to school, the finished poster rolled as small as possible so as to not draw any suspicion. It was hard work, trying to avoid Billy and Tommy, and the rest of their friends on the basketball team, where they usually hung out in the parking lot in the morning. They had to crouch behind a group of freshmen girls to safely get inside the school.

“It should be safe in my locker.” Jo said, hushed. “He doesn’t know my combination- Thank god.” She shoved the poster inside, quickly closing the door and turning to face Carol.

“Ready to face the world?”

Down the hallway, Billy and Tommy came into view, the rest of their friends following behind like groupies.

“Act natural.” The two nodded to each other, making their way towards their boyfriends.

Neither of them suspected anything.

Throughout the day, they tried their best to carry on like normal. Nancy and Di briefly caught up with each of them at lunch, saying that Jonathan and Steve hadn’t expected anything. Speaking of lunch, it was the most difficult period, trying to not to perform excessive PDA on their boyfriends without them suspecting something was harder than they had originally thought. “Strike! You’re on strike!” They had to keep reminding themselves.

At the end of the day, they had to, once again sneak away from the boys. Steve was in the parking lot, waiting with Dustin for Di. Jonathan was with Nancy, standing between their cars. Will, Lucas, and Mike were inside Jonathan’s car. “Hey.” Jo said, walking up to them.

“We’re waiting for Max.” Nancy replied.

“She had to pick up her skateboard from the office.” Will spoke from inside the car.

Jo gave him a questioning look. “She was skating before homeroom and the secretary took it from her.” Lucas answered.

“What a bitch.” Jo rolled her eyes, seeing Max walk into view.

“Sorry, Ms. Leen took my board this morning-“ She grumbled, her board tucked under her arm.

“No worries.” Nancy said, turning to get into her car.

“What’d you tell Billy?” Jo asked, climbing into the passenger seat. They waved goodbye to the boys in the other car.

“Picking up extra hours at work.” Max replied, laying her board down on the floor. “You guys were taking me so you can work on your project.”

“Thank god.” Nancy sighed.

The girls drove to the library. The older girls followed Max inside, waiting for her to convince Marissa to let them use the copy machine. After quite a few minutes of coaxing, she allowed them thirty minutes, after that she’d have to charge them for ink.

Inside the copy room, Max set up the machine, making roughly sixty wallet-sized replicas of the poster Jo painted. Nancy and Jo began to cut them up as Max watched them run through the machine. “Do I want to know the story behind this scheme?”

Nancy and Jo looked at each other. “No.” They said in unison.

“It’s probably better if you didn’t.” Nancy said.

They somehow managed to copy, print, and cut up all the cards within their thirty minute time-slot. Thanking Marissa, they rushed back to Nancy’s car. Nancy took Jo home first, a rationing of cards enough for her and Carol in her grasp. “I’ll get some to Di tonight, they’ll probably come and pick up Will and Dustin.” Nancy said.

“Max, not a word to Billy, right?”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Start trying to find a date that works for everyone to go out for food, okay? See you guys tomorrow.”

Billy had been suspicious of Jo since Monday, when she left him alone with Tommy at lunch. Jo was always sneaky and strange but it wasn’t out of the ordinary. He admired her for her quirks. But this time it wasn’t just one of her quirks, it was more like she was deliberately being weird. It bugged the shit out of him.

Monday and Tuesday he had been fucking up in practice, getting his ass reamed out at home by his dad, and practically slept through the first half of his school schedule. He spent half the night awake, wondering why Jo hadn’t come over at all, and barely let him touch her.

By the time practice ended on Tuesday, he had already reached his breaking point. “Has Carol been acting weird at all this week?” He asked Tommy, as they gathered in the locker room to shower.

“Not really, she’s just been spending a lot of time at Jo’s, why?”

Billy shook his head. “Well Jo has. She hasn’t come over at all. Normally she’s over every damn night.”

“Chicks are weird, man. They go through phases.” Tommy shrugged.

Billy didn’t buy it. Tommy was no help, but he knew who could be, and he was ready to push some buttons.

Billy arrived at Jo’s house, and let himself in. Her dad wasn’t home, so she was alone. Quietly, he passed through the living room and into the kitchen, seeing her standing over the stove, the draw-fan on full-blast, blocking out any background sound. “Ya know, you really shouldn’t leave your door unlocked.”

“Jesus!” She jumped, turning around and clutching a wooden spoon to her chest.

“No, just me.” He smirked, stepping forward to grab her hips. But she twisted out of his grasp, turning back around to stir whatever was in the pot. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning forward. “What’re you making?”

“Trying to boil noodles for macaroni and cheese.” She mumbled, concentrated at the pot of still water on the stove. “Don’t think I have it hot enough.”

He looked up at the dials, reaching to turn the one for her burner all the way up. “Can’t cook noodles on a simmer.”

“I don’t love cooking. Can you tell?” She laughed as the flames grew underneath the pot. “Wanna do it for me?”

“If you insist…” He rolled his eyes jokingly. “Just as long as you get everything else ready. Think you can manage it?”

“I think I can.” Jo turned to grab a packet of powder off the counter. “It’s Kraft.”

Billy boiled the noodles, and drained them, and Jo mixed the cheese sauce together. The two ate their macaroni, and talked about their days at school. Eventually, they moved down to Jo’s room. They sat on the couch, enjoying the comfortable silence they provided each other. Until Billy had to ruin it.

“You been okay lately?” He whispered, running his hands through her hair.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Yes… Why?”

“Dunno… Just haven’t seen much of you this week. How’s that project of your’s going?”

He felt her tense up in his lap. “It’s fine. Almost done, gotta hand it in Friday afternoon.”

“Huh, really. How have the other’s been? Helpful?”

“Others? Oh, Nancy, C, and Diana? Yeah, very helpful, probably couldn’t do it without them.”

“When do I get to see this super top-secret, mysterious art project?” He smiled, trying not to make it seem like he suspected anything weird was going on.

“Well…” She sighed. “I don’t know if I’ll be getting it back, it might be going to the art show at the end of the semester.”

Nice cover. He thought.

Billy was currently content with sitting in the quiet and enjoying each other’s company. It was the most physical contact they had had all week. Eventually though, he let his mind wander, and soon his hands, and then Jo found herself in a predicament.

God, it felt nice, having him kiss her, and touch her, but damnit she was supposed to be on a strike. She couldn’t let it go any further.

Billy’s hands traveled under Jo’s shirt. She pulled away from his kiss. “Mm, I’m kinda tired.”

He still didn’t move his hands. “C’mon, this is the most I’ve seen of you all week. Let’s just have some fun.”

He leaned forward, catching her lips in his again. She sighed, once again pulling away. “No- No. I don’t want to, c’mon not tonight.” She wrapped her hands around his wrists, removing his fingers from under her shirt.

Billy groaned, flopping his head against the back of the couch dramatically.

Jo couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit guilty.

She climbed off of his lap. “I’d say you can spend the night, but I don’t trust you won’t somehow talk me into sleeping with you, so I think I’m gonna have to ask you to go home.”

Billy’s jaw dropped. She had never asked him to leave before.

“What has gotten into you lately-“

“Nothing, nothing. My dad’s gonna be home, and we have school tomorrow…”

“That’s never stopped us before.” He grumbled, standing up and fixing his shirt.

“Doesn’t matter, no means no.” She chewed at her lip. “I’m sorry, I just don’t feel like it.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” Billy rolled his eyes, staring at his girlfriend. “Am I at least permitted a kiss before I go?”

Jo smiled softly, leaning up on her tip-toes to kiss him. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

Billy was damn sure there was something suspicious going on now.

WEDNESDAY

Wednesday was tough. Carol had skipped school, just to avoid Tommy. Nancy had skipped for a college visit, and Di joined her. So it was just Jo alone all day, with Billy and Tommy, and their idiot friends.

Billy was sure he had become wise to what was going on. Putting the pieces together: Tommy saying Carol was acting weird, Jo not wanting to have sex last night, the secret “art” project. The two of them had created a sex-pact, and the art project had something to do with it. (He hadn’t worked out all of the pieces yet.)

Billy was a born-instigator, so naturally, he made it his mission, to break the pact. And he took out all the stops.

He made sure to wear extra of the cologne she loved on him, only buttoned his shirt up halfway, smiled more often, and was extra sweet to her in the morning.

In their fourth-period gym class, he gave Mr. Sweeney to brilliant idea of having the guys play shirts versus skins during their basketball drills. He, of course volunteered his group for skins, trying his hardest to drive Jo wild. He winked and smiled at her from across the gym, watching repeatedly as her cheeks flushed red in the middle of a conversation with someone.

At lunch he made sure to keep at least one of his hands on her thigh at all times, complimenting her any chance he got. And when he waited for her at his car after school, he made sure he was smoking a cigarette, because although she detested the habit, she thought it was hot.

He greeted her with a kiss and watched as she got into the passenger seat; He followed, in the driver’s seat. He reached across her lap, into the glovebox, grabbing a piece of gum. “Gum?” He asked, slowly breaking the piece in half and sticking it in his mouth.

She practically drooled. “I know what you’re doing. It isn’t going to work.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about princess.” He grinned, starting the car. “Just asking my gorgeous girlfriend if she wants a piece of gum.”

Jo breathed in deeply. “Shut up.” She said through clenched teeth.

Wednesday afternoon was when Steve began to get suspicious. Di hadn’t wanted to do anything but drive around and listen to music since Sunday night. She made no extra effort to be affectionate, physically or verbally, and Steve was beginning to panic. Had he done something wrong? Had he said something wrong? Did he spend too much time with Dustin? Did she not like the music he played? A million questions ran through his mind all day, leading up until the very moment he picked her up from school.

He had told Dustin that morning he was going to have to get a ride with Jonathan, because he desperately needed to talk to Di. Dustin asked no questions, he knew exactly what Steve was going through, he had had his fair share of lady-problems too. Communicating with his girlfriend Suzie in Washington was more often difficult than simple.

When Di got into the car, she greeted him with a kiss, which was not out of the ordinary. They went through their regular routine of asking how each other’s days were, and chit-chatting about the college visit and work at the video store. A few moments of silence passed, and Steve couldn’t control himself anymore. “Are we okay?”

Di turned to look at him suddenly. “What?”

“Are we okay? Am I doing everything okay?”

“Steve-“

“You haven’t really talked to me that much the past few days, and all you’ve wanted to do is drive around, not that I mind, I love spending time with you, but we haven’t just done nothing, or just hung out in awhile and I feel like it’s something I did, or something I said. If it is, please tell me, I’m so sorry, I won’t ever say it again. Whatever it is, I didn’t mean it, it was stupid of me-“

“Steve. Relax.” Di tightened her grip on his hand, where it was placed on her thigh.

“Oh- Sorry. It’s just-“

And then that’s when Di began to panic. “Please take me home.”

Steve slammed on his brakes in the middle of the street, his eyes going wide. He ripped his hand from her thigh, placing it on the gear shift. Di was never confrontational, she wasn’t aggressive. There was nothing wrong with between her and Steve, and she couldn’t come up with a logical excuse for why she wanted to just drive around, so she told him to take her home.

She was already mentally slapping herself.

“I-uh, okay.”

The rest of the drive to Di’s house, Steve said not one word. Neither did Di. He dropped her off, watching longingly as she silently got out of his car, and walked to her house.

Steve spent the entire drive home trying not to cry.

Billy dropped Jo off at her house, watching as she begrudgingly gave him a kiss. “Call me if you need anything… Or anyone.” He winked, watching as she clenched her jaw.

On her front porch she stood, shaking her head and flipping him off as he drove down the street, music blasting at max volume, pleased with the shit he had pulled.

He had definitely cracked the code.

THURSDAY

Jo spent Wednesday night sufficiently frustrated. She was mad at herself, for coming up with such a stupid idea. Who even strikes things anymore? She was mad at Nancy, Diana, and Carol for agreeing to her stupid idea. And most importantly, she was mad at Billy for figuring out what was going on, and making it his life’s mission to tease the shit out of her.

She expressed her frustrations to Carol over the phone after she had been dropped off. “How could we be so dumb?” “Since when did he get so clever?” “What the fuck is wrong with us?” Were just a few of the things she had said to Carol.

Carol was practically glued to her side all day Thursday. “They can’t possibly mess with both of us. We just have to distract each other.” She had said. She was only partially right.

Billy seemed to have let Tommy in on the girls’s little secret, and the two of them were the pair from hell. All day, any opportunity they got, they were doing something to get under their skin. Tiny little movements, whispering in their ears, stupid shit. And of course they got a reaction, because Carol and Jo were nothing if not predictable.

The pair went to Carol’s after school. She left her phone unplugged still.

After practice, Billy ditched Max, telling her to skate home, and drove himself to Steve Harrington’s house. He hated that he even knew where he lived, but he had been at a party there last summer, and he hated to admit it, but Harrington threw a wicked party.

He had barely gotten out of the car when he saw Steve step out his front door, a bouquet of roses in his hand. “I love you. I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry? What the hell am I sorry for?”

“Hey, Harrington!” Billy called, casually walking towards him.

Steve looked up, eyes wide in shock. He flung the flowers behind him, quickly stuffing both of his hands into his pockets. “Hargrove, hey man, what’s up.”

“Those for your girlfriend?” Billy pointed to the discarded bunch of flowers on the ground.

“Oh, these?” Steve turned around, picking them up. “Yeah, they’re for Diana.”

“She been acting weird lately?” Billy chewed at his lower lip. “Because Joanna has, and I know they’re doing a project together, so I was wondering-“

Steve interrupted him. “Joanna is always weird.”

Billy rolled his eyes. “That’s besides the point. Has Diana been acting weird? Jo has been out-of-the-ordinary weird, and I’m wondering if it’s that project they’re doing.”

“Di hasn’t mentioned a project to me…” Steve fiddled with the wrapping on the bouquet.

Billy raised his eyebrows. “Hmm. That’s weird. Jo said she had a project in art. Wheeler, Carol, and your girlfriend have been helping her out with it since Monday. Funny she didn’t mention it. You’ll have to ask her about it… Thanks anyway.”

Billy turned on his heel, walking back towards his car. “Actually, she has been acting a little strange.” Billy grinned, turning back to face Steve. “Every night she just wants to drive around and that’s it, she won’t do anything except hold my hand.”

Billy nodded, motioning to the flowers in Steve’s hand. “You go give her those flowers, I’ll handle the rest.” Billy twirled his keys between his fingers. “I’m gonna figure out why the girls have been acting up, don’t you worry pretty boy.”

Meanwhile, Steve had taken it upon himself to drive over to Diana’s house. She clearly didn’t want to talk to him, so he decided to leave the flowers at her doorstep. He managed to find an sticky note in his glove box, and on it he wrote I love you, I’m sorry. Just as he rehearsed, even though he still didn’t know why he was supposed to be sorry. He rang the doorbell and sprinted back to his car.

On his way home, and throughout the rest of the night he couldn’t stop the thoughts swirling his head. Why was she mad at him? What did he do? What did he say? Did she get the flowers? If she got them, did she like them? Did she see the note? He didn’t sign his name, would she know they were from him?

Steve didn’t sleep much that night.

Upon arriving at home, Billy found the house completely uninhabited. Max’s backpack had been thrown haphazardly inside the front door, almost making him trip over it. He kicked at it, causing it to slump sideways. Normally, he wouldn’t have thought twice about picking it up and taking it to her room, and then yelling at her when she got home about it “Max don’t leave your fucking backpack right inside the door, I almost died!” But a small piece of white paper sticking out of the front pocket caught his eye first.

He bent down, pulling it out of the bag, and when he read it, he almost threw up. It was a tiny, wallet-sized piece of card-stock, Girls STRIKE was painted across the top of it in red ink, but that wasn’t the most disturbing part. “Leather + Lace optional”, was what really got him. What the hell was Max doing with a card that said that on it? Where did she get it? Why did she keep it?

Holding the card between his fingers, he rushed into the kitchen, quickly dialing Tommy’s number on the phone. “Dude, you have got to see this shit. I’ll meet you in ten.” He said, hanging up and going back outside to his car.

He did make it across town to Loch Nora in record time, laying on his horn for Tommy to come outside. He had just planned to sit in the car and show Tommy the card. “Look at what I found in Maxine’s backpack.” Billy sighed, tossing the card into Tommy’s lap.

“Shit, what’s your thirteen-year-old sister doing with this?” Tommy examined it.

“My thoughts exactly.” Billy replied. “But then I remembered that she went to the library with Joanna and Nancy Wheeler on Tuesday after school. And who’s been acting weird this week, but Jo and Carol, and they’ve been working on that stupid art project with Wheeler.”

“So… You think this is the art project?”

“Could be.” Billy lit a cigarette. “I went over to Harrington’s after school. He said his girlfriend has been acting weird too lately.”

“She’s included in that project the girls are doing.”

“Precisely, amigo.”

“So what are we supposed to do about this?” Tommy waved the card in his hand.

“Looks like we’ve got a party to go to.”

Also, over on Isola Road, Nancy was secretly sleeping over at Jonathan’s. Joyce never actually had an issue with Nancy staying over, she trusted both of them, but understood how it might be awkward to asl your mom if your girlfriend can stay over, so she let them continue with their “secret” sleepovers. Nancy was hesitant to say yes Jonathan’s fifth-period offer, “Wanna stay the night?” He asked. Then she figured, maybe she should stay over, and make it a point to mention their issue. After all, her problem was very much different from the other girls’s.

But alas, they never got the chance. When she arrived, they got right to work on studying for an English exam, and then they decided to watch a movie. (A television was the latest and greatest edition to Jonathan’s bedroom) And by the time the movie was over, they were basically half-asleep, so what would be the point in mentioning sex now? Whether it was happening, or not.

They laid in bed, side-by-side, barely touching each other. “Jonathan?” Nancy said, the darkness of the room making her voice seem a lot louder than it actually was.

“Yeah Nance?”

“You know you can touch me, right? Like we can cuddle or whatever, you aren’t gonna break me.”

From beside her, Jonathan chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”

“Okay…” Nancy turned on her side, facing away from him. She was about to fall asleep, feeling completely and utterly defeated, when she felt Jonathan’s arm wrap around her middle. She smiled, feeling slightly accomplished.

Nancy had a good night’s sleep that night.

FRIDAY

Friday was a relatively easy day. Tommy and Billy had decided to keep their distance from their girlfriends, not wanting to draw any extra attention to themselves, or make them wise to the fact that they knew everything that they were scheming.

After Billy had talked to Tommy, he had driven over to Steve’s, tossing the card at him just like he did Tommy. “Told ya I’d figure it out.” Steve was shell-shocked, eyes wide and nodding at everything Billy was saying. He grasped most of the information. “This is why your girl’s been acting weird… Party at Joanna’s on Friday… Better call Byers to let him know…”

Steve did call Jonathan, who had absolutely no clue anything was going on, he had had a big project at the Post throughout the week that had taken most of his focus away from school.

So the plan was set, Billy was going to pick everyone up, and they were crashing the fucking party.

Jo had told her dad to go away for the weekend. “It’s just a little party dad, a couple girls. No boys, I pinky-swear. Please…” She didn’t have to beg much, her dad would probably do anything she asked, almost short of murder if she said please.

Nancy and Di had made sure to have secure alibis with their parents, and bags already packed. Nancy drove them all to Jo’s house, where they finished setting up what Jo had done earlier.

She had cleaned the house the night before, trying to take her frustrations out by tidying up. Carol’s brother dropped off copious amounts of alcohol, and a gram of weed just for an extra treat (He had a soft-spot for Jo). Red lights were strung up around the entire house; the living room, kitchen, all over the basement. The entire kitchen table was covered in drinks, and Carol was on music-duty so it would be nonstop bangers all night.

Nothing could go wrong.

They all got dressed, none of them wore leather or lace, it was more of a joke, but they did wear black and/or red. “We look hot!” Di squealed.

Girls began to arrive as early as seven thirty, to which they were gladly welcomed. Within an hour, the party was in full-swing, music blasting, alcohol flowing; someone had brought glitter and it was everywhere, but nobody cared, because there was not a man in sight.

That was, until, Jo heard the roar of a scarily familiar car engine from outside the house.

She stopped, dead in her tracks, almost spitting out her drink. From across the room, her and Nancy locked eyes. Shit. No, no, it couldn’t be, the boys didn’t know about the party.

Jo walked through the crowd of girls to the front window, staring in shock as Billy stepped out of the Camaro. “Holy shit.” She mumbled.

She set her drink down on the windowsill, rushing to step onto the front porch. Nancy, noticing her panicked stare from across the room, grabbed Di and Carol and they followed her onto the porch. “What the hell are you doing here?” Jo said, trying not to sound as annoyed as she greeted her boyfriend.

“You’re found out sweetheart. We’ve come to crash the party.”

“But- How? How did you find out?”

Billy pulled the wallet-sized card out of his pocket. “Max kept a copy for herself after your little library rendezvous.”

“Well shit.” Jo face-palmed.

“Just give up, give in. You’ve lost.” The four girls stood, shocked at the presence of their boyfriends, who stood smugly in front of them. “C’mon, it was a good effort, but we figured you out. Throw in the towel.”

Not thinking her friends would give up so easily, Jo shook her head. But to her surprise, her friends had actually thrown in the towel. Billy walked forward, pulling her to him by her waist. She couldn’t put up a fight, she had been so strong all week, but she was finally ready to give in. “How I’ve missed you, princess.” Jo pouted as he peppered her face with kisses. “We’ve got some lost time to make up for, come on.”

Jo was a too drunk to form coherent thoughts, let alone form a coherent argument to figure out how or why or when Billy had figured out their plan. When she took Max and her friends out for food this week, she would have to investigate how Max managed to steal a copy of the poster.

From over Billy’s shoulder, she watched as the other girls desperately fell into the arms of their boyfriends. Shit, they had lost. They had lasted the entire week, but the hadn’t been able to keep it a secret.

Defeated, she let Billy drag her to the depths of her bedroom, locking the door, and finally surrendering to him.

MONDAY

On Monday, the girls met outside, next to Nancy’s car.

Nancy was glowing, the winter sun illuminating her face, her cheeks a bright rosy tint. Carol was grinning from ear to ear, clearly exponentially happy. Diana was staring blissfully into the distance. Jo was happy, albeit angry with how her plan failed, she had an extremely euphoric weekend.

“So, ladies, how was your weekend?”

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things masterlist #stranger things fanfiction #Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove blurb #billy hargrove x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #jonathan byers #jonathan byers imagine #Nancy Wheeler #nancy wheeler imagine

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mertronus · 4 years ago

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Perfect Courage

This has been in my head ever since I first saw the music video for "Perfect" by Ed Sheeran. So, feeling in an extra fluffy mood tonight, I put the video on a loop, stuck my headphones on, and started to write. And this little beauty came out of it.

Summary: Ron and the crew go on a weekend ski trip...will he finally get the chance and find the courage to tell the girl he loves how he feels? (rated G)

Read it on AO3

****

'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love Not knowing what it was I will not give you up this time

Friday

I stepped off the train and pulled my coat tighter around me. Blimey it was cold. But I guess when you’re in the mountains of Switzerland, it’s to be expected.

I made my way through the station until I stepped out into the village and adjusted my rucksack on my shoulder. Looking up I could just make out the slopes that I guessed I would be hurtling down on a pair of wooden sticks the next day. Who’s idea was this anyway?

Right...Hermione’s.

A smile stretched across my face. Not a surprise that I would do something like this simply because Hermione suggested it. Because Hermione organized it. Because it was Hermione’s parents’ property where we would be staying.

Anything with Hermione’s name on it I would immediately sign up for. I would do anything for her.

I started walking down the street towards the cafe we were meant to all meet, thinking about my best friend. I’ve known her almost all my life, been in love with her since - good God at least since we were thirteen. At least, that’s when I cottoned on to the fact that I couldn’t get enough of being around my nagging, know-it-all, nightmare of a best friend.

And yet, I never made a move, I was too scared, too nervous, feeling too unfanciable or too undeserving...I was convinced she would never go for the likes of me. And, more than all of that, I didn’t want to lose her as a best friend. I was resigned to being her friend for the rest of her life if that meant I got to be in it.

Until she started dating that bloody wanker Cormac McLaggen.

He treated her alright - I would have treated her better - and she seemed happy enough, but I was miserable. I couldn’t do it. For a whole year I watched them and dreaded the moment she would ask me to walk her down the aisle to the tosser.

When she finally ditched him before the fall semester started, I made up my mind. There was no life for me if Hermione wasn’t in it - like really in it. And mine. Otherwise it’s absolute torture. But with us attending different universities, and her in super studious mode during the semester, I never got my chance...until now.

So, yeah, while I hate the very thought of skiing, my attendance on this friends weekend adventure with our lot from school definitely has an ulterior motive. This weekend I would make my move. This weekend I would tell her how I feel. This weekend I would finally, finally, tell Hermione Granger how unbelievably in love with her I am.

I found a love for me Oh darling, just dive right in and follow my lead Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me

When I reached the cafe, the first thing I noticed through the window was an adorable head of curly brown hair. She looked amazing sitting there all comfortable in her oversized jumper and hat. The waitress was just handing her a steaming cup - likely tea. More specifically Earl Gray tea with half a sugar and just a bit of milk.

Yes, I know how she takes her tea. Don’t judge. I did say we’ve been best friends since we were kids right? Sod off then.

I took a deep breath and opened the door to step in. Courage of a Lion ...our school motto. Am I a lion or not?

“Ron!” she cried, a huge grin on her face. “You’re early!”

“Well, yeah I - OOF!” I caught her mid lunge and wrapped my arms around her waist. My nose involuntarily dipped into her curls and I breathed her in. Her familiar scent warmed me immediately and I knew my ears were likely bright red. She pulled back and looked at me expectantly. Oh, yeah...what was I saying to her? Right...early...I’m early.

“Caught the earlier train so I wouldn’t be late,” I finally explained.

“Well, I’m glad,” she grinned and reached up to ruffle my hair. I fought the urge to close my eyes at the feeling of her fingers running through my locks. “Been so long since we’ve had time together - the two of us.” When I looked into her eyes, I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of something...longing? Love? Blimey I hope so.

She led me over to the table and plopped me down as she began talking a mile a minute. Most of us were starting our final semester at uni in a couple of weeks, but Hermione of course beat us all to the finish line, having graduated a semester early...with honors thank you very much. Did I mention how bloody brilliant she is?

I gazed at her as she filled me in on all I’ve missed recently in her life - the last exams she took, the jobs she’s going for, visiting her parents over the holidays…

“But oh, listen to me drone on and on, what about you Ron? How was your season? Your semester?”

I snapped myself out of my daze and tried to collect my thoughts as best as I could. I told her a bit about how things were going with football, how I scraped by as usual with my usual mediocre grades and recapped my own holidays. Suddenly it hit me that this was likely the only time this weekend we would be alone. If I wanted to talk to her, now was the time.

Now or never. Courage of a Lion.

“I’ve uh...I’ve been thinking a lot too, Mione,” I said softly.

“Don’t think too hard, Ron,” she teased as she took a sip of her tea.

“Yeah har-dee-har-har,” I shook my head but grinned at her. For a moment I forgot what I was saying altogether as the sun made some of her curls look golden dancing around her head. It always caught me off guard how beautiful she is. How much I love her.

Right...focus Weasley. Just say it... ‘Hermione Granger, I love you’...

“Hermione, I..I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about -”

“Harry!”

“No, not of...what?” She jumped up and ran off to throw her arms around our other best friend...the one who always seemed to have the most impeccable timing.

“Hi Hermione,” he said with a grin. He released her and patted my shoulder. “How’re you Ron?”

I stood and smiled, pulling him into a hug. I was really happy to see him, even if I wished he waited another ten minutes or so. “Good, happy to see you mate.”

Behind Harry, Hermione was happily greeting my sister Ginny - who was dating my git of a best mate - and our friend Neville. It wasn’t long before Dean and Seamus came bustling into the little cafe to join us.

“We’re all here!” Hermione exclaimed. “Shall we head up to the cabin?”

It wasn’t long before all of our bodies and bags were piled into a van that Hermione rented for the weekend to get us around. Not a fan of driving the slick roads of the mountains, she asked me to drive. I was a bit disappointed when Neville happily called bagsy and jumped in the passenger seat beside me. I was really hoping to have Hermione beside me for the almost thirty minute drive up the mountain. Instead, I watched as Hermione wound up squeezed in between Dean and Seamus way in the back since Harry and Ginny took the middle two seater.

Gits. All of them were gits.

We drove up the mountain and I tried to keep my focus solely on the road, but it was hard when I kept wanting to glance back in the rearview mirror to catch a particular pair of brown eyes. I caught her eyes a couple of times and she smiled at me...it was as if the smile was only for me.

I really had to focus on the road.

“Ooh I love this song!” Ginny suddenly lunged forward to turn up the radio as Ed Sheeran’s “Sing” was starting up.

“ I don't wanna know If you're getting ahead of the programme…”

I glanced back and laughed at the sight of my friends singing at the top of their lungs.

“I want you to be mine, lady And to hold your body close Take another step into the no-man's land For the longest time, lady…”

I watched Hermione laughing with Dean as they sang and felt a pang of jealousy...until she looked up and caught my eye again and winked. I blushed and looked at the road but when I glanced back up, she was still singing and watching me. A chill ran through my body although the van’s heat was blasting.

We decided to stay in that night and get an early start the next morning. Hermione’s parents had the caretakers stock the fridge and pantry, so the seven of us had a good time pulling out random ingredients and making a hodge-podge of food - paired with the excessive amounts of liquor Seamus procured for us of course.

Everyone started to drop off one by one, and I tried to hang on so I could maybe get a few moments alone with Hermione again, but the last thing I remembered seeing was the girl of my dreams curled up on the armchair before I dozed off myself.

Saturday

Ski lifts are bloody scary!!! It’s bad enough you have all this gear on with your coats and snow pants and boot, then you’re also clipped to these long wooden sodding sticks that are weighing you down, all while sitting precariously on a bench that’s flying through the air.

Who’s idea is this of fun!?!?

“Having fun Ron?” Her arm wrapped around mine and she pulled herself in close as we rode the lift up to the top of the slopes.

I smiled but I’m pretty sure a wince was seen too. “Bit nervous honestly.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall…” I pulled her in close and nuzzled my nose in her hair. “Not too much anyway.”

Okay, I’ll admit it: skiing is kind of fun. Or rather, skiing with Hermione is fun.

We spent the entire day on the slopes, stopping for an early lunch and mid-afternoon to warm up. Hermione spent most of the day teaching me the ropes and I spent most of the day falling on my arse. Even Neville showed me up - him, Dean and Seamus speeding passed us repeatedly on snowboards.

We finally called it a night and headed into the inn for dinner and drinks. We were a few shots in when someone got the great idea to start up karaoke. I hid myself in the back as much as my tall frame with flaming red hair would allow, but quite enjoyed watching Hermione and Ginny’s rendition of “Lady Marmalade.”

As I sat there watching her laughing and carrying on with my little sister, my mind wandered to many more nights like this...double dates with Harry and Ginny, playdates with all of our kids, family events where Hermione feels really comfortable letting her hair down because she knows she’s with people who love her and have her back.

Well I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home I found a love, to carry more than just my secrets To carry love, to carry children of our own

“Hey,” a voice called out to me. I looked up to see Hermione leaning over me. I was so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t even realize that her and Ginny were finished and Dean had taken the stage with Neville and Harry. “Come with me?”

I’ll go anywhere with you. “Yeah...uh sure. Where we going?” I stood and pulled on my coat. It honestly didn’t matter where we were going...as long as it was just the two of us.”

“You’ll see!” She threw her own coat around her and spun around with a laugh as she head out the door. I laughed too because I loved it when she let loose and had a few drinks. She spent so much of her time fussing over books and school and all of the boring adult things that bogged down our lives. Seeing her like this - now spinning in the falling snow trying to catch flakes with her tongue - this is the Hermione I love most. I love all sides of Hermione Granger, but this side...this side is the most beautiful side.

I threw my head back to catch snow on my tongue too, making faces and noises to get her really laughing. I dropped my head to look for her when I felt a distinct splat on my back.

“Oh it’s a snowball fight you want is it?” I called as she ran off towards the road that led up to our cabin. I stooped over and gathered a massive snowball as I commenced chase, her squealing as she ran ahead of me. I aimed and caught her right in her bum.

“Ronald!” She yelled with a laugh. “I’ll get you for that!” She ran toward me with a handful of snow and jumped on my back to stuff it down my back - a favorite torture method of ours when we were kids.

Her laughter echoed in my ears with her so close. I grabbed onto her legs and spun her around on my back to keep her there. “Roooooon!” she yelled. “I’m getting dizzy!” We both toppled into a mound of snow in a fit of giggles. I slid over so I wouldn’t crush her and we lay in the snow in a fit of tipsy hysterics. I looked over to see she had slid away from me in the snow, and was reaching the tips of her fingers to mine smiling. Suddenly she started to giggle again and waving her arms in the snow while moving her legs. I followed suit and after a bit we helped each other up to admire our snow angels.

She hugged my arm and leaned in close. “I want to show you something.”

I took off after her towards our cabin. It was obvious the others weren’t back yet and I thought this could be my chance. Get her in the cabin and get a few minutes alone before the others decided to walk back.

But she ran passed the cabin into the woods behind it.

“Hermione! Where are you going?!”

“Come on!”

We ended up running right into a smaller cabin hidden just a few yards away from the main cabin where we all were staying.

“What’s this?” I asked when we stopped.

“Come on,” she said again, pulling me inside. It was a cozy little one room cabin, a tiny kitchenette in one corner, and a couch and a few chairs around a rug with a stone fireplace. There were stairs leading up to a loft where I could just see a low bed with blankets and pillows just waiting to be crawled into.

“It was an old shed that the caretakers renovated into a separate guest house when there were a lot of people staying in the cabin,” Hermione explained. “When we used to come with the rest of my family, my grandparents stayed out here, to get away from the noise of their kids and grandkids in the cabin.”

“It’s cozy,” I said quietly, looking around. “And quiet.” I caught her eye and smiled. “Hiding out here tonight?”

She blushed but shrugged nonchalantly. “We can...if you want.”

“If you want.”

As if she couldn’t surprise me anymore, she pulled out a small bag with a change of clothes - for both of us.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for this Oxford United shirt! You’ve had it all this time?”

“Remember after Ginny’s birthday party a couple years ago? I was supposed to go home but it was pouring rain and your mum pretty much forbade me to leave.”

I nodded and smiled. “And you came to steal pajamas from me. My Oxford United shirt and,” I pulled a pair of navy blue flannel pajama bottoms out of the bag, “and these.”

She shrugged. “I wore them home and I guess I kept forgetting to give them back. Figured we’d need something to change into - which I’m glad I thought of it since we were literally rolling in the snow!”

We each took opposite corners of the room and turned to give the other privacy to change. As I was changing, I caught sight of something behind the couch. I pulled out a pretty pristine acoustic guitar when I felt Hermione come up behind me.

“My Grandad’s,” she breathed. “He must have left it here.” I sat on the arm of the couch and set it across me, plucking a few strings.

“Bit out of tune but…” I started twisting and tuning the guitar to my liking.

Hermione smiled as she sat in front of me. “I forget you used to play.”

“Still do, sometimes,” I said softly. “I just fiddle around mostly, nothing crazy. I’m no Ed Sheeran or nothin,” I chuckled.

“No,” she sighed. “You’re definitely cuter.” Our eyes locked and I tried to form the words but it was as if I was frozen - trapped in her gaze as I fell mercilessly farther and farther in love with her. “Tea,” she breathed out.

“Huh? What?”

“Tea,” she stood. “I’ll make us both a cup. Two sugars and a bit of cream?”

I smiled and nodded. “Perfect.”

As she kept herself busy in the tiny corner kitchenette, I suddenly had a moment of inspiration and started playing a song I knew, thrilled that I remembered it.

Courage like a Lion, Weasley.

“That sounds familiar,” she said as she set my cup on the small table besides me and sat back in her spot.

“Yeah,” I whispered. She sipped her tea and watched me, her eyes bright and round and locked onto mine. I cleared my throat and started to sing softly.

“We are still kids, but we're so in love Fighting against all odds I know we'll be alright this time Darling, just hold my hand Be my girl, I'll be your man I see my future in your eyes”

Tears started to form in her eyes as she stilled and watched me intently. I knew my voice was likely rubbish, but I didn’t care. When she looked at me that way, I felt as if I could do anything.

“Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song I have faith in what I see Now I know I have met an angel in person And she looks perfect I don't deserve this You look perfect tonight”

When I stopped playing, she set her cup down and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Ron,” she started.

I pushed the guitar aside and slid down off the arm of the couch to sit beside her. My hands cupped her face and her fingers wrapped around my wrists. “Ron,” she said again, this time as if she was pleading with me. I answered her by pulling her face to mine and brushing my lips against hers softly.

I pulled back the tiniest bit and looked at her. “This okay?”

“More than,” she breathed out. At that I captured her lips with mine and vowed to never let her go.

I was lost. Completely and utterly gone. Her lips were as soft as I imagined they’d be and more. They were gentle and yet persistent, shy and yet demanding. I marveled at how she could always be so many things at once.

When we pulled apart, I noticed she was crying again. “You alright Hermione?”

She let out a slow breath and smiled. “Never better.”

“Good, because I believe I made you an offer.”

“And...what offer was th-that?”

“Be my girl, I’ll be your man,” I rubbed my nose against hers. “Cause I most definitely see my future in your eyes.” She giggled and nodded. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own And in your eyes, you're holding mine Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favourite song When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight

#romione #romione fluff

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leggomylino · 4 years ago

Text

Stray Kids Playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons

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A/n: M.List linked down below! | My very first reaction!!! :D I hope you all enjoy <3

Tag List: @distrikt9 @hanniiesuckle17 @smolboiseavey (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫

✧ Bang Chan ⇢ STAY Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Crisp Ringleader

Okay family

As our ENFJ king Chan would totally have a island that revolved around the others

Sure he��d have his own space too

But he’d def be one to put up lots of fun camping space and interactive inventions

A cute little barbecue grill on the beach with a wooden table and log benches 🥺🥺 and a picnic area too

I feel like he’d also go out of his way to breed black roses but that may just be me 😂🤷🏻‍♀️

Black and white flowers everywhere, and maybe some red roses too?

He’d also be a generous donator and frequently visit the others to see if anyone needed help with anything

Just stopping by to check in and drop off some hardwood, or iron, maybe even gold

...That’s a big maybe on the gold cause we all know that stuff ain’t common and if you want Marshal on your island you better have some handy

In addition to this, I think that the generosity would only go so far and he’d be quite the tease too

Running around left and right ratting the others out during pranks and “borrowing” things from the others

“where’d my recipe for gold armor go???”

🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️ “idk bro I think I saw Minho running off with it?”

For villagers, he’d have a plethora of the animal kingdom on his island

Anyone is welcome

You get what you get and you don’t throw a fit 🥴

He’d def have mentions of Stay on his island too

And the guys, his squad

A Stay flag and Stray Kids written in the sand somewhere

Maybe vice versa

His character would likely be of similar resemblance but I can totally see him playing with the fun hair colors and face paint

His wardrobe would consist of similar attire too: black, white, caps, hoodies, and chains

Y’all AC fans know that one punk outfit with the chains across the bodice? He’d own that

His home is a toss up: on one hand it could be very chill and cozy, but on another I’m seeing workout gear in one corner and iron tables and a TV and radio going, maybe (definitely) a music studio setup (similar to Weber’s home but more hardcore LMAO)

All in all, I think Chan would be a chill/causal player that would be happy to help his friends and community while also playing hard ball once in a while just to mess with everyone 😂♥️

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✧ Lee Minho ⇢ Soodori Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Total Genius

Soodori is a combination of Minho’s cats

Your boy Minho couldn’t resist the ingenious idea

He’d pondered for the longest time which of his precious babies was going to be awarded the title of his island; an impossible decision

Then along comes our creative leader, “why don’t you just use all three?”

‼️‼️‼️

Genius!1!1!!1!1 😩✨

On Soodori, you bet all the villagers are cats; if you don’t have pointy ears and a swishing tail, Access Denied 🙅🏻‍♀️

This means you, Han

Villagers included would consist of Raymond, who may or may not be an island celebrity

And let’s not forget Queen Ankha

But to Minho, all his cat citizens are equally loved and cherished as a valid part of the community

His whole aesthetic would be cats too

That includes a cat cafe

His flag would probably be a paw print 🐾 or his cat’s names, maybe a cute scribbling of their faces

And if you disrespected that, there’d be blood to pay

I can see his character closely resembling him as well, with a little paw print on his cheek? Maybe some whiskers?

He’d thoroughly enjoy visiting the others islands “if he absolutely had to”

Swipe some goods

And bundle them up to go on the plane out ✈️

For the most part, I see him being more of a hermit on his island that only heads out On Demand

Even then, it’s kind of a toss up: good luck getting him to leave his children behind

If you’re nice to him, he MIGHT let you come and view the splendor...m a y b e

But you better not touch or take anything 🗿🔥

Shoot, when it came to special visitors, like Redd or K.K., he’d probably try chasing them off

Put those tools to use

There’s more than one way to skin a cat

(Don’t tell him I said that tho 👀💧)

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✧ Seo Changbin ⇢ DARK Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Music-Loving Loner

Dark, dark, dark

We all done knew, didn’t we?

Changbin is the KING of darkness

So it goes without saying that his whole island would radiate the stuff, too

It may seem depressing and a little emo at first, but eventually the concept comes off being pretty cool

...In an angsty, Evanescence sort of way

He’d probably be very lost on how to play at first...at first

He’s got Felix and Chan to help him tho, so he’d be breeding black flowers before you know it

Maybe a little gray and navy blue tones to break up the solidarity somewhere

I’m seeing a kind of night sky aesthetic, maybe some astrology furniture???

Look out, Celeste

She’s gonna be running to Big Brother Blathers saying some scary short guy is following her around the woods

Poor Binnie just wants a Starry Sky wall...until he sees how bright it actually is

Then it’s 💯 a fat pass

Binnie would kindly welcome all sorts of villagers while being minorly selective

After all, we can’t break the darkness with some cheery-idol-wannabe villager, or some Judy the anime bear

I can say with utmost certainty at 95% that his whole wardrobe would be black caps and hoodies

Maybe a plain black tee

Some black pants

And

White or black sneakers 🥴✨

I think he would be pretty intent on building up his island...in particular, collecting all the artifacts and critters for the museum

He’d work hard but not go crazy or stress about it and still take lots of time to just chill in his deep dark vibes

Maybe get out once in a while to visit Felix and learn a thing or two

Overall, we see through your front, Bin; you may have a dark vibe but you’re really just a small big softie ☺️

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✧ Hwang Hyunjin ⇢ Kkami Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Soothing Season

Welcome to Kkami Island, which was almost named something else aesthetically cute like Honeycomb or Applepuff

However, like Minho, Hyun simply couldn’t resist a chance to use his precious baby’s name

On Kkami, life is pretty chill: EXCEPT WHEN ITS SERIOUS 🔥

That’s right folks

This boy may have some vibing days and go at his own pace

But don’t be fooled: he plays to win

Plant those money trees

Enter those QR codes

Carve out those pathways

Where is Blathers we have a donation 😤😤

Hyunjin would be a steady-paced worker bee 🐝

He’d likely be selective of his villagers and go for cute ones

Possibly top to secondary tier

When it came to games and get togethers, you’d likely find him chasing another member with a net or an axe, in most cases Jisung

“qUiT LEaViNG TrASh oN mY iSLaNd!!1!1!1!” 💢

“DROP THAT DIY!1!1!1!!1”

Let’s see

His whole island aesthetic would be cute and peaceful:

Plants, terrariums, soft sunlight...

There’d be so many flowers!!! Hyunjin would have a whole colorful flower field 🥰🌸

White and wooden furniture in and around the home

An adorable tea and snack time plaza too! And a library!!! 📖✨

Very cozy and sweet ♥️

Though, shoot, if he had the energy, this guy may just build himself a palace... 🏰

Regardless, just look for the boy with the staple headband and likely some face paint to boot

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✧ Han Jisung ⇢ Swag HOT Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Trendy Supreme Being

(Edit: Minho convinced Felix to hack his account and changed this to Untossable Trash)

Ohhh boy

I bet y’all were waiting patiently for this one

Or maybe you jumped right to it

Either way here we go:

Han Jisung would be the king of the trash heap

And by that I mean this guy would save up all his bells and buy himself a crown 👑 where he’d sit atop a throne of garbage

BECAUSE THERE WOULD BE TRASH EVERYWHERE SIS 😩😩

This guy would be yeeting furniture and garbage all over the place

...Okay maybe that was a bit overdramatic

Maybe not EVERYWHERE...

......

...It’d be pretty messy tho

He’d probs have traps set up too

You step off the plane and get catapulted into the ocean, if that were a thing

You’d have to navigate and hop around discarded junk for sure

He’d have clothes here, a fan there, a...urinal...on the beach???

.........o k a y ._.💧

Han Jisung wouldn’t be all that competitive when it came to gathering every fruit or collecting all the fish

He doesn’t have the patience for that

He needs to run around and be free, letting his mind wander while wrecking havoc for everyone else; which is also Minnie’s job but we’ll get to that later

For villagers, he’d have at least one squirrel or two (Marshal?! :D) but I’m not so sure it’d really matter...all that much?

I’m not sure he’d even want many villagers at all

He’d be spending most of his time crashing other member’s islands and leaving little surprises like a useless DIY they already have or a fake painting he got roped into buying bc he was too lazy to check if it was genuine =_=

Everyone got sick of it pretty quickly but no one like Minho or Hyunjin; he’s permanently banned from those two locations and Jeongin’s considering adding him to the list next

Despite there being so much junk, his house would have an almost decent vibe: lots of instruments and fun gear, along with some random clothes, a lava lamp, and...another urinal 🗿💧

Seriously, someone get this boy a closet and some coaching in organization

Chan and Changbin are working on hiring Minnie but it’s not going too well; for one he charges too much

Maybe you can talk some sense into him...

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✧ Lee Felix ⇢ YEET Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Festive Chum

Okay y’all

Felix

Would be

THE KING

OF ANIMAL CROSSING

THIS BOY WOULD HAVE

ALL THE FRUITS!!! 🍎🍐🍊🍒🍑🥥

ALL THE FLOWERS!!!🌷🌹🌺🌸🌼🌻

I MEAN EVERY COLOR OF EVERY COMBINATION

A COMPLETED MUSEUM 🖼 🐜 🐠

I MEAN BEFORE ART WAS ADDED, HE HAD EVERYTHING RARING TO GO

NINTENDO WAS LIKE “wtf?!”

YEAH SIS, HE’S THAT GOOD

Boy would have a five star island all sorted into perfectly measured categories

An amusement park, a picnic area, a freaking ranch probably 🐮

Some awesome neighborhood for his tier one villagers with a YMCA down the street

A fancy one at that

I mean this boy would have it all

Expect a competitive softie that really just wants to have fun but like

He’s gonna win too lmao

He’s got his Nook Miles program all maxed out

When playing with the others, he comes up with really creative solutions when faced with a crisis

That’s because this smart cookie knows the ins and outs of the game

There was one time where he fenced Jisung in like the creepy Easter bunny and left him for ded oop

That was a bad day for Jisung and a hilarious day for everyone else

He felt bad about it but he also wanted that Subway gift card 🤷🏻‍♀️

Each day is a new hair color for Felix

Sometimes every few days or a week

He sometimes likes to synchronize it with his current hair color but

Experimenting is also fun

Face paint too! 🌈 He chooses a warpaint print he found on Pinterest, for days when the gang gets together for a game of tag or bug catching contests

Even if he doesn’t win, Felix always makes it into the Top 3

And he has a lot of fun doing so! 😊

He’s just one heck of a gamer is all

And his whole aesthetic shines brighter than the sun T-T ☀️

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫

✧ Kim Seungmin ⇢ Seungmin’s Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Radiant Boy

Like Felix, Seungmin would be an ace at AC

He wouldn’t get everything right off the bat

But he’d put in a logical tried-and-true effort, and once he got the ropes and found his groove, my oh my

This boy would have it all

Sophistication ✨

Class ✨✨

Flair ✨✨✨

He’s got a plethora of fruit and stylish attire too

And his aesthetic is so simple but chic

He’s got this whole clean and polished vibe

Lots of artwork and creativity

He’s even got traps that look like fancy furniture

Those are mainly for Han Jisung tho

That oughta teach him to quit nosing around and taking his DIYs <_<

One time he tried stealing a few apples for Swag HOT Island

Didn’t go well sis...

He made it to just outside the pier before getting lost in the hedge maze by Cafe Seungmin

After that Seungmin closed him into a corner as punishment and wouldn’t let him out until he dropped the Apple

But Jisung was feeling pretty prideful that day so he ate it instead 🗿💧

Anyway

This guy would def make a character that looks just like him!

Would he try new hair colors and face paint? ...Maybe

It seems like a sorta-Seungmin thing to do

Seungmin would wanna be the best of the best while still staying true to himself, so you’ll likely see tier one and two villagers that he particularly fancies

Fancy you, fancy me 🥳✨💃🏻🎶

He’d also be one to go around admiring the chaos from the background while occasionally becoming the chaos

Kinda like the Cheshire Cat 😅

When challenging the others to an art contest (who could buy the most expensive artifact from Redd without using the internet) he switched some of the other members paintings while they were distracted by a meteor shower

“Look, a shooting star! And another one!”

“Make a wish.”

“How do I do that?!”

“Tilt your camera towards the sky and press A.”

“I’ve got my camera app open and it’s just taking photos???”

“Not you CAMERA camera—“

“Hey! Chan hyung, Minho just stole my star!!!”

“I didn’t see your NAME on it...”

“Don’t fight, you can each have half!”

“That’s not how it works at all...”

...Anyway

It was pretty comical until Changbin had to say something, about the art that is

Then Minnie had to bounce before the angry shovels and nets caught up to him

“Hey!!! Why is my painting on Minho’s side???”

“Why is everyone attacking me???”

“Oh, Hyunjin has my painting...”

“I do not! ...Oh hey I do? Why’d you put it over here?”

“I DIDN’T!”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

...

🛫 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

Poor Minnie just wanted to have some fun amongst the confusion 😔

But

When it gets right down to it, you better believe this boy would be an aesthetic and skillful player ✨

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫

✧ Yang Jeongin ⇢ Go Away Island ✧

Passport Title ⇢ Mistakingly Caught Son

Go Away Island means just what the title intends: go away :)

Initially, Jeongin was prepared for what he senior members would do

He knew there would be much anticipation to visit the 막내’s island and drive him crazy

Sometimes, he doesn’t mind it

But others he just wants to be left alone and do his own thing

When he started the game, it was one of those days

So he wanted to make the message clear 😤😤

Also, Don’t Bother Me seemed to be too long 🤷🏻‍♀️

Go Away was straight to the point ;D

Anyhoo

On Go Away, you’ll encounter lots of cute characters 💓

Innie has a very cute and true-to-himself aesthetic

He doesn’t understand much of the mechanics but he’s working on it okay?

And he’s getting better every day!

Okay, so like, sometimes he’ll allow Chan to come over and help

Or Felix or maybe Seungmin if he promises to be genuine and behave

But like

The rest of the members are semi-banned

Hyunjin gets a pass if he whines enough

Or he’ll come up with a crafty excuse to come over

“Innie, look! I got peaches on my island! Don’t you want one? They’re cute like you! 😩❣️”

...He could do without that last embarrassing remark but okay sure

He really did want those peaches for his picnic garden 😔✊🏻

In terms of hair color? We’re on a rotation like Felix

We’re trying lots of hair colors

And a few aesthetic designs, too!

Jeongin is very resourceful when it comes to QR codes, something Felix and Seungmin taught him

He uses them to set flowers and stones pathways everywhere

And an especially prominent one leading to the door 👉🏻🚪

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫

↬ Which island will you be visiting? 🌴✨

♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫ -ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- ♪♫

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

144 notes · View notes

nalgenewhore · 5 years ago

Text

Slipping Through My Fingers - Three

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter

warnings: none

an: let the games begin bitches

Lorcan was desperate.

The five-year old sitting on the floor of his room refused to get dressed and Lorcan’s nerves were getting frayed. He looked more like Lorcan than his mother, but his features softer than his father’s, his eyes brighter - a pale doe-brown. The freckles over his button nose were Essar’s, no doubt about it.

“No, Dad.” Despite his words and negation, Lorcan was forever grateful that they spoke his mother tongue at home, as well as Essar’s. That their son was able to speak their languages, for their cultures and people to be kept alive for one more generation. They tended to mix and match with the two tongues, one from the northernmost part of Doranelle, and the other from deep within the Bogdano jungle.

He sighed and ran a hand down his face, rubbing his eyes before he too sat on the floor. “Prince, please. Please just put on your pants.”

“No, Dad. Don’t wanna go to school,” Kohana* said, his arms crossed tightly, glowering menacingly. He was already wearing his long-sleeved t-shirt, sweater and puffy jacket. The child insisted on wearing all his layers, even though it was hardly fall and he would definitely become way to warm by the end of the day.

“I know, kiddo,” Lorcan said, wishing that Essar was here to convince him. She’d always managed to soothe their son and sometimes - most of the time if he were honest - Lorcan felt like a failure. He’d asked every god, multiple times, why him. “I know you don’t.”

His tone was defeated and Kohana looked up at him, his brows lowered. “If you know, why telling me to go?”

That was a very good point. An excellent one. Lorcan resorted to his last point: bribery. “Alright, if you go to school, tonight when we get home, we’ll get ice cream and watch your favourite movie. Deal?”

His son looked between the pants and him, narrowing his chestnut eyes, just like his mom. Finally, Kohana nodded. “Ok, Dad.”

Ten minutes later, Kohana was concentrating on his laces, his tongue sticking out as he tied his shoes up. He was successful and clapped his little hands, “Look! Tied my shoes!”

Lorcan smiled, his heart cracking just a bit, “Good job, baby.” Kohana stood up on the front hall bench and lifted his arms. Lorcan scooped him up and tossed him up, catching him before setting the little one down on his feet, smiling at his son’s pealing laughter. “We ready?”

Kohana grabbed Lorcan’s pinky and ring finger after Lorcan helped him put on his mini rainbow Kanken backpack. “Yep! Go time!”

As Lorcan opened the door, Kohana froze, “Oh no! I forgot to say bye bye to Tigger!” He raced back into their house, seeking out Essar’s old ragdoll cat. Lorcan had a love-hate relationship with Tigger, but even he smiled when he heard the kid’s little voice saying good-bye. He looked in the mirror beside Essar’s picture, noting the length of his hair had just finally begun to brush against his shoulders after he had cut it, out of respect and honour for the passing of his wife.

It made his throat close up, this feeling that he was moving on and forgetting her - when he’d once promised to never forget her. Lorcan had meant it that dark day in that sterile hospital room and he meant it now. His gloomy thoughts were interrupted by the pattering feet of their son as he came racing back and crashed into Lorcan’s legs. “Ready to go.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Kohana chattered the entire way to his school, looking out the window as he kicked his feet, sitting on his booster seat. Lorcan grinned and conversed with him, only slightly worried about the amount that he talked.

Kohana was a fairly quiet child, reserved and freakily observant like his dad, and preferred to silently ride in the truck wherever they went. Soon enough, they pulled up in front of the school and Kohana fell silent, nervously glancing out at the other kids and parents.

“You need a minute, Ko?”

Kohana slowly shook his head, “No, I ready. Go time, Dad.”

Lorcan stifled his chuckle and unbuckled his seatbelt, turning off the engine and making his way to Kohana’s door. He opened it and Kohana unclipped his seat belt and stood on his booster seat, waiting for Lorcan to pick him up. Lorcan did, propping him on his hip as he got his backpack and shut the door, clicking his keys to lock the truck as he strode through the parking lot, unaware of the stares and attention he drew to himself as he walked to the school.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide checked the time again, reassuring herself that nobody was late, considering the bell didn’t ring for another fifteen minutes. She breathed out slowly, checking over her class list and making sure that each little desk (who knew kindergarten desks could be so cute) had a velcroed name label on it. She figured she would let the kids choose their seats and go from there once she knew the different dynamics.

She checked over the reading area, making sure the toadstool-patterned pouffes were placed correctly and relative to the bookshelves and toy area. What she had wanted was a whimsical, faerie-woods like reading area and Elide was happy with what she had done. She'd even managed to find a tree-throne inspired wooden chair made by a local artist.

The art corner was all ready, it had been the first area she set up, and Elide walked into the cubby area, which was separate from the rest of the classroom.

Unlike the desks, the cubbies were designated to each student and she made sure that the velcroed labels stuck on well. Elide did not need wild little ones pulling things off at random. She popped into the little bathroom they had, thanking her gods and goddesses for being one of the few kindergarten classes with their own toilet. There was a sign with diagrams on correct hand washing and a step stool up to the sink, soap and paper towels in easy access.

She looked at herself in the mirror, running an eye over her outfit: a pair of raw-edge, blue mom jeans and a slouchy lavender sweater, paired with a pair of delicate silver hoops, her hair twisted into a low-bun and held together with a silver hairpin, a gift from her ex-girlfriend. She wore her everyday, white sneakers, her makeup simple with just mascara and a light dusting of blush.

Perfect for meeting parents and kiddos. Comfortable and still somewhat professional for the first day of school. Aelin had asked her to model some things for her newest collection and had dumped a bunch of custom made pieces into her arms. A congrats-on-your-new-job present, she’d said, so needless to say, Elide was well-equipped and excited for her new outfits.

Someone knocked on the door and called out, “Hello?”

Elide squeaked and hurried into her class, “Hey, I’m— Lorcan?” Oh gods, what was he doing here? Elide subtly checked the available exits, in case something went sideways. “What are you doing here?”

Just then, she noticed how shocked he looked and the children’s backpack that dangled from his hand, not to mention the nearly identical child who held onto his other hand in a death grip. “Um, I- kid- school-” he stuttered out, his jaw still dropped as the child tugged on his hand.

“Dad?” The dark-haired child looked up at Lorcan in confusion, his brow wrinkling. Elide genuinely thought that every kid was cute, but by the gods, this one took the cake. She had the sudden urge to kiss his round cheek and clamped down on the desire.

He was a father. And she was his kid’s teacher. And she should not be thinking about how he held her up and fucked her against a wall three nights ago or how the way his lips parted as she got on her knees for—

“Oh my gods, sorry,” Elide said, snapping out of her shock. “Hi!” The kid looked nervous and hugged Lorcan’s legs, hiding his face in his father’s navy painter pants.

“Ko,” Lorcan said, crouching down in front of his son. Elide scanned the class roster, landing on the name Kohana **Tangaroa-Salvaterre. Lorcan began to speak in a language she discerned as ***Ozuye from hearing it during her gap year, but she didn’t comprehend a word, her mind reeling.

Even if this wasn’t the situation, she still wouldn’t have been able to understand a word on account of not speaking a language other than the common tongue and Blackbeak.

“Ok, Dad,” Kohana whispered. He walked over to her, his light eyes wide as he clasped his hands together in front of him, “Hello. My name is Kohana. I am five.”

Elide huffed a laugh and crouched down in front of him, “Hi, Kohana. My name’s supposed to be Miss Lochan, but you can call me Elide.” He smiled and nodded, running back to Lorcan to grab his backpack and grab a quick hug before saying bye with a tight hug and an accepted top-of-the-head kiss. He quickly ran back to Elide’s side.

Lorcan laughed quietly and nodded an only semi-awkward goodbye before ducking out of the classroom. “Alright, Kohana, why don’t we see your cubby?”

“Ok,” he said, following her closely as she led the way to the coat room.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Hellas save him, this was a mess. How had he managed to sleep with the one person that would be his son’s teacher for ten whole months?

Lorcan stopped at a red light and hit his head against the steering wheel, swearing low. If Essar could see him now, she’d be crying in laughter. That got him to smile, even if it was forced and unnatural.

He drove in utter silence to the mechanic shop he worked at, alongside Fenrys and Malakai, trying to think about anything other than the sounds she had made when he was inside her. He was not successful in the slightest.

It had him in a foul mood when he parked and got out of his truck, stalking into the back room. Fenrys was sitting at the table and drinking a cup of coffee when he walked in. “Woah, who pissed in your coffee this morning?”

Lorcan sighed and braced his hands against his locker, hanging his head. “I fucked Ko’s teacher.”

“Wait, just now?”

He snarled and spun to glare at Fenrys, “Yeah, in the five-minute period I was dropping my kindergartener off at school, I took her in the cubby and fucked her real good.” He walked over to the blonde and slapped him upside the head, “Fuck is wrong with you? She’s the girl from the bar.”

“Well. You two are fucked.”

That was exactly the problem.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

*Kohana is a Lakota name that means swift

**Tangaroa is the Māori god of the sea! In this story (and all things i write) both Essar and Lorcan are indigenous - Essar is Māori and Lorcan is Lakota because you can never have too much colour 😌✨

***Ozuye is the fictional tribe of my own invention, it’s very largely based off the Lakota nation

@mythicaitt @tinywolfofeyllwe @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @westofmoon @empire-of-wildfire @rhysands-highlady @city-of-fae @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tangledraysofsunshine @ttakeitbacknoww @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @superspiritfestival @empress-ofbloodshed @queen-of-glass @sleeping-and-books @beccasophia95 @exersize-me-i-dare-u @thewayshedreamed @hizqueen4life @ifinallygavein @bat-wing-rhys @awkward-avocado-s

#slipping through my fingers #stmf chapter three #elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #kohana #baby oc!#isa writes #nalgenewhore

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uhhhhhhhhhsblogyea · 4 years ago

Text

This is a surprise!

cw, attack, killing, slight demspey x richtofen, and religion, theres a good bit of that in there

[i wrote this awhile ago so theres not much of shipping material in this i was just like oh yeah this sounds cool]

[ 1 ] chapter 1 ; bump in the road

Demspey hums a song to himself, something he heard while going through the teleporter awhile back. He wasn't sure what the name was or the lyrics, it was just a catchy tune. If he had to guess, it came from the future. The sounds in it were definitely not from the 1930's.

Rictofen laughs and looks at Dempsey, "Dempsey, what does LMG stand for?" Dempsey smirks at this, turning to look at the doctor. He knew what to say, thanks to training the recruits. Maybe he could punch Richtofen for being stupid, just like he did to the recruits.

While Dempsey gives a minute of silence while looking over at the German, who takes out the summoning key, counting over his items before summoning the rift to their next place. “You sure you want to know?” He chuckles.

“Why of course! Why, I wouldn’t of asked if I knew already.” Richtofen hums, confused by the American’s laughter.

"If you say so. It stands for Lick My Gibblets." Dempsey struggles to hold back his smile, knowing his foreign teammate wouldn't really understand what he meant - not to mention he’d look stupid for not knowing what it really meant. What a funny thing.

While the two were conversing, Nikolai and Takeo had stepped into the rift, Dempsey following suit before Richtofen grabs him, "I am certain you were lying. What does it really mean?" He demands.

Dempsey grunts, pulling Richtofen off him while saying. "Let me go, dumbass!" Dempsey sighs, walking through the portal between worlds.

Richtofen failed to specify where exactly, but, at this point the American wasn't surprised though he wasn't any less annoyed.

"I wasn't aware it was LMGD..." The German ponders before following the bunch with a chuckle.

Tank steps out of the rift, meeting the other two, but it takes him to realize he stepped out into something he didn't expect. "What the fuck?" Dempsey is surprised, not prepared for the foot of snow on the ground. Pine trees of many kinds surround the area, being in a secluded area. Everything is covered in snow, pretty much abandoned.

"Oh my, this is quite the surprise." Richtofen speaks up, making his presence known as the blue rift crackles and closes.

"I wasn't prepared for this myself." Nikolai speaks up now, giving a slight shrug. "German," he addresses, "with the time traveling I'm sure you'd know where we are." He doesn't believe the legitimacy of Richtofen's surprise, Dempsey can understand why.

Takeo chooses not to speak, fixing his pants to go over his boots so no snow falls inside of them while Dempsey watches the Russian and German grow tension.

Takeo stands upright. "Let us talk with honor." He looks at the both of them and nods.

Richtofen looks at Takeo, sighing before nodding. "If we came here there is something we need, so let's go look for it. We'll have to hurry up and find a spot to 'bunker down' before the next wave arises." The German man had done air quotes before pointing a lanky arm towards the large gothic church a-ways ahead of them.

The front of the quite beautiful church is a triangular shaped building, much like a house or meeting hall that extends into a tower that looks very much similar to a clock tower with a bell, considering there's a clock on the front.

There's other rooms on the side of it but a lot of wires and metal rods are sticking out on the top of the tower. There's designs in the stone, stained glass of religious figures. Such a shame the full beauty was lost when the glass is cracked and broken in areas, boards nailed over any thought of entrance.

Something's off about it though.

As they trudge through the snow, Dempsey notices the metal rods. He looks to his left to see Nikolai, the man who seems unbothered by this cold. "Hey Nik, maybe Richtofen's right about something being here. As much as I hate to give him the benefit of a doubt, the wires and rods on the clocktower gives me the idea something's here."

Dempsey raises his hand and points at the clock tower briefly, giving Nikolai enough time to glance it over. The Russian man follows Dempsey's hand, taking a second before seeing the same. "Perhaps, American. You do have a point."

[ 2 ] chapter 2 ; welcome to hell, american

There's a blue beam of light, signifying the existence of the mystery box inside the church. Demspey hums, quite happy about that at least. Hopefully Samantha was nice enough to spawn some hidden ammo stashes for when they ran out or get low – he was quite notorious for being trigger happy and running out of ammo quickly.

Hey, at least he took care of his gun when he had the time to.

They continued to make their way through the snow, had it only being less than ten minutes of arrival. Dempsey noticed that Takeo and Richtofen were colder due to not having jackets or long sleeves like he and Nikolai had. Richtofen seemed extremely cold although, compared to the headstrong Japanese man who refused to admit he was cold. Tank sighed heavily, taking off his jacket and holding it out to Richtofen.

"Dempsey? Why are you giving me your jacket? You're-" Dempsey held up his hand, making Richtofen take it. "Doc, you're shivering more than any of us. You're also the one we have to follow here, I don't want to hear you whine about wanting some soup and your nose being stuffy." The American rolls his eyes, forcing a shiver from surfacing.

Richtofen thanked him and put on the marine's coat. It was warm from his body heat, and quite soft on the inside. Dempsey wasn't going to lie, Richtofen looked quite cute in his coat.

"Oh focus Tank!" He shakes his head, yelling at himself in his mind. Dempsey powered through the cold the best he could, not wanting to really show how cold he did feel in just a t-shirt. His pride wouldn't let him.

Eventually they reached the entrance, wooden planks nailed over the two doors to the church. Nikolai takes his hammer from his belt and starts to pry the nails out of the boards. Dempsey helps without speaking, pulling the bloodied planks off and stack them aside. It was kind of nice how they silently agreed for once.

Unfortunately for them, it took a good bit to clear the entrance to the church which means they had to sit in the snow and cold wind longer than they wished. Things were placed behind the doors, benches and heavy boxes filled with bibles and books, being barricaded from the inside. They moved into the hallway after forcing those things aside, Takeo giving a shiver.

"I expected it to be... warmer." His nose wrinkles as he breathes in the stale air, looking to the side to one of his friends. Dempsey had to agree, but he took a step forward, walking down the carpeted hallway to double doors that were once barricaded. Emphasis on once.

The items that blocked the doors were knocked and spread all over, blood that seemed old and semi-recent splattered on the ground and walls. He hummed, why was there new blood? To be honest he never saw any zombies openly bleeding and spilling their guts out randomly unless they were shot or killed.

This was the room people would come to pray and listen to someone speak about religion, sitting on the wooden benches.

Dempsey suspects that someone or something is here, and he's not sure what. Maybe he's not as dumb as the others say he is.

At this point, Dempsey couldn't give a damn about how Christian churches worked after contemplating it. He just wanted out.

"Scan over this area, I'm gonna take upstairs." He says to the three who had gone and caught up with him, to which the others nod. He goes to walk towards the stairs, placing his hand on the metal railing. He halts at the third step to turn back to the group. "Richtofen." He calls.

The German seems a bit startled at first, "Yes, Dempsey?" He strides over to Demspey on the stairs. "How about you come with me, we'll do two and two. That way none of us die for good." Demspey offers, though it sounds more like a command.

Richtofen hums, tapping a finger on his chin before saying. "Fine Dempsey! Let's go take a look around, shall we?" Demspey nods, heading up the stairs with Richtofen behind him.

"Take that room, I'll be over here." He points to a random room on the left, it looks like a storage room. Dempsey walks down the hall a bit, getting a gut feeling to draw his pistol so he does. He pushes the door open to a room with furniture, sheets placed on top of them.

"Right out of the horror films," He laughs a bit. He walks around the room, looking for crates, chests, anything that looks like it would stash ammo.

There's soft footsteps behind him as he's rummaging through a box. He notices them as they stop, getting up and turning around to see who he thought was Richtofen. "Did you f-"

Dempsey couldn't finish the sentence before getting attacked by an old woman, but she wasn't a zombie. He falls to the ground, his pistol clattering against the wooden floor. "Get off of-" Something sharp sinks into his shoulder near his neck. Her fucking teeth.

He starts to reach for his pistol while fighting against her grip, eventually grabbing ahold of the gun and shooting the lady in the head. God, he hoped she wasn't someone important.

He begins to sit up, her blood spilled all over his shirt. He grunts, throwing her body off. Richtofen comes running in, "Dempsey! What happened?" He looks at him, getting up.

"I'm fine Doc, I killed it. She must've just got affected by the 115, that's all." He reassures him.

"Why don't you help me look around in here? Take these sheets and use them for bedding, might be good." Dempsey causally changes topics, stepping over the corpse and taking an already dirtied sheet to clean the blood off himself.

Now that he thinks about it, he feels a little weird. There’s tingling around where she had bit him. Dempsey knows that isn’t a good sign, especially in his book.

______

sorry if its super long, im on mobile !!

#cod zombies #codz #edward richtofen #codz oc #tank dempsey #zombies #takeo masaki #nikolai belinski #primis #long story yes

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xofanfics · 5 years ago

Text

String - Part II

Prologue | Part I | Part II | Part III

Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT

Pairing: Baekhyun x Female Reader ft. Sehun

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: You find yourself in a friends-with-benefits situation with your best friend. You have no business falling for him, but your heart begs to differ.

You stared at the clock, painfully counting down the minutes until this class was over. Syllabus week was the worst. Teachers sent out the syllabus and course guidelines by email yet, for some reason, you were still stuck here going over it even though you’d already read through it. Your teacher wasn’t saying anything new to you so you opened up your laptop, browsing Aldo’s website for their sale shoes.

Your mind shuffled for the remainder of class. You looked down at your shameful, chipping nail polish and wondered what nail color you’d go for next. You smiled at it because Baekhyun did them for you the other day. Interestingly enough, he was good at those kinds of things. Even though he’d probably never let you paint his nails ever, he was good at painting yours and he didn’t mind doing things like that.

Your random thoughts about nail polish and Baekhyun came to a halt as the people around you started shuffling. It was Thursday and, thankfully, you were done with class early. Your teacher had gone over the syllabus and went over the textbook and so on before bringing class to an end with “Have a good weekend. See you next week!”

Your friend, Daren, turned to you. “This class seems like it’ll be a breeze.”

“I hope so. I could use some more A’s this semester…”

Daren smiled. “Are you hungry? Do you wanna get lunch?”

You said, “Sure. Do you wanna see if the others wanna come, too?” He nodded and you looked down at your phone that lit up with unread messages from the group chat.

Within twenty minutes, you and Daren were sitting on a bench in Washington Square Park waiting on your friends. It was a gorgeous day out, a clear blue sky hanging over you.. Summer in New York City was the best. There was so much to do and so much to see in the city that never sleeps. The sun shone brightly on your face as you watched children playing near the fountain. One was splashing his hands in the water against his mother’s wishes and another crying because she dropped her ice cream. You smiled. You loved this city. It was just so authentic and raw.

You squinted in the direction of your friends approaching and waved them over. You could tell it was them because Evie had a slight bounce with each step she took.

“Hey gorgeous,” called Evie, plopping down next to you.

“Hey guys,” Sadie said with a wave. “Where are we eating?”

Daren said, “I dunno. I thought you’d decide.”

While the three of them went on about where to eat, you looked down at your phone. Baekhyun hadn’t texted you back. He was in class; he sent a screenshot of his class schedule last week. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be joining you for lunch today. With a small sigh, you returned to the conversation. Apparently, everyone had decided on going to get pizza.

Baekhyun just had one class on Friday. It was the only class he could get into since his browser crashed on him as soon as it was registration time. By the time he’d logged on again, the class he’d planned on taking was full. With a yawn, he took a seat down in the 9am class and opened his laptop, ready to take notes.

A few minutes after class began, he heard the door open. He glanced and saw a girl scurrying to an available seat toward the front of the classroom. She sat down and opened her notebook. The back of her head looked awfully familiar and it bothered him throughout the class. There was something so painfully familiar about her that he found himself staring at the back of her head and what little he could see of her side profile any chance he could.

As class ended, Baekhyun was relieved. The girl took her sweet time in gathering her things. She even sat there for a minute or two. Baekhyun watched her and part of him was even annoyed that she was taking so long to stand up and leave the classroom so that he could get a better look at her. Finally, she stood up. When she turned around, Baekhyun’s heart dropped. She didn’t notice him. With her phone in hand, she continued toward the door with no intention of looking in his direction.

He called, “Kira?”

She looked up from her phone and her eyes met his. Her eyes lit up before the rest of her face. “Baekhyun?” She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. “Wow, it feels like it’s been so long…”

“Eight months is a long time,” he said, giving her a squeeze. “How’ve you been? How was your study abroad program?” He pulled away from her even though he didn’t want to.

“I’ve been good. Studying abroad was amazing. Florence is such an amazing city. I loved it,” she said. “How about you? I saw you went back to Korea over the summer.”

Baekhyun nodded. “It was good. It was nice to see my friends and my family. I feel a little homesick sometimes but I love this city, too. It feels good to be back.”

“Do you think you’ll try to stay after graduation?”

“For a little bit at least. I guess I’ll see if I can apply for a work visa later. I’m not sure I want to stay in Korea.”

“I feel the same way about Japan. Kanazawa will always be my home but I feel like I can make a name for myself here.”

“What do you want to do? You wanted to do something with skincare, right?”

Her eyes widened a bit, surprised that he even remembered what she thought was such a small detail. She smiled. “Yeah. I’m trying out a bunch of different formulas now for the face serums I want to make. Soon, I’ll perfect it. There’s a lot to do to start a business.”

Baekhyun returned her smile. “I bet it’ll turn out great and everyone will love it.”

Kira cleared her throat. “We should catch up sometime...”

“I’d like that. When are you free?”

“Are you doing anything later today?”

You threw down the plastic shot glass onto the wooden desk. It was your second shot of the night and it was in Sadie and Evie’s dorm room. Sadie was playing lofi in the background and she and Evie were currently arguing over the choice of music.

“What’s this sad ass lofi playlist?” Evie demanded. “If I wanted to kill myself, this is the playlist I’d choose.”

You laughed. “You have to admit, Sadie. This song doesn’t make me wanna get drunk on a Friday night.”

Sadie rolled her eyes, scrolling through Spotify to change the playlist. “Yeah yeah. Where are the boys? Are they on their way?”

“Daren is on his way. He said he’ll meet us in front of our dorms. And Andrew said he’ll meet us at the bar.”

You turned in the Sadie’s desk chair. “Where are we going by the way?”

“Let’s start at Coyote Ugly,” said Evie.

Sadie said, “Yeah. The bartenders always try to get you to dance on the bar. I’m in the mood for something like that tonight.”

A makeup adjustment, an outfit malfunction, and another shot later, the three of you were off into the night in sight of your friends and a good night to be remembered as you kicked off the semester. Daren was in front of the dorms waiting; he had his foot kicked up onto the wall, leaning onto it while scrolling on his phone. A smile formed on his face as he noticed us approaching.

“Now I feel underdressed,” he said, looking down at himself. You and the girls giggled as Daren rolled his eyes and started complaining. “I knew I should’ve changed.”

As the four of you walked over toward the East Side, Daren said, “Is Baekhyun coming out tonight?”

You said, “He texted the group chat earlier and said that he had plans tonight.”

At first, you’d been kind of annoyed that Baekhyun wasn’t going bar hopping tonight; When you asked him why, he mentioned that he ran into one of his friends. You felt a little sad that he wouldn’t see you in the cute skirt you were wearing and even sadder that he wouldn’t be pulling it off of you later that night.

By the time you got into the bar, it was starting to get crowded. There was a nice crowd of people, which meant that soon there wouldn’t be much breathing room left. Coyote Ugly wasn’t a high end bar or anything like that. It was the place to get drunk and to dance on the bar to good music. The bartenders were good looking and usually had a nice pair of tits to match.

Sadie and Daren went to grab a table in the back while you and Evie went to grab a couple beers. As you waited for the bartender, Evie said, “So what’s with you and Baek?”

At this point, Evie knew that you liked him. She noticed immediately. Most times, Evie could be pretty quiet but it’s because she’s sitting back, observing people, watching their movements. She noticed that you liked Baekhyun before you did. You were walking to the train station one day when she asked, “You have a crush on Baekhyun, don’t you?” At that point, you’d only slept with him a couple times and hadn’t given it much thought.

You said, “What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you tell him how you felt about him before he left this summer?”

You nodded. “We haven’t had that conversation again. I figured I’d wait until the time was right. School just started up again and if we already like each other, what’s the rush?”

“Are you sure he likes you?” she asked after ordering the beers.

You nodded. “Of course I am! He told me himself. I mean, it just hasn’t been a good time. It’s been a busy week. I’ve hardly seen him this week. Next time we meet up, I’ll bring it up again.”

“Sounds good.” You knew that Evie had more to say about it but for some reason she thought better of it and changed the subject as she paid for the beers. You grabbed two beers and headed back to the table with your friend. As you drank your beer and talked with your friends, you couldn’t get what Evie said out of your head. It wasn’t much but that one question had so much impact.

Are you sure he likes you?

Shortly after being consumed by your insecure thoughts about Baekhyun and how he feels about you, you noticed that Drew had arrived and that he had lured over another group of people in their 20s. You watched as he flirted with one of the girls; she was currently throwing her head back at something Drew had said and you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself because there was nothing that Drew could say to make someone laugh that hard.

You wished that Baekhyun was here. It seemed like everyone had a person. And by person you just meant someone to connect with. You watched as Evie and Sadie were enthralled in some deep conversation with one of the guys in the other group. Drew was flirting and Daren had disappeared. You couldn’t help but feel a little lonely.

With a sigh, you headed to the bar in search of another drink to drown your problems in. After you placed an order for a gin and tonic, a tall man approached you and stood next to you. Glancing at him, you noticed he was in the group that Drew had brought over to your table. He smiled at you and said, “Hey. You looked like you could use a friend.”

You chuckled. “Friend, huh? Isn’t that a little bold?”

He shrugged, leaning against the bar counter. “Not if that’s what my goal is.”

“What’s your name?”

“Sehun. What about you?”

“Y/N.”

“Pretty name.”

You ended up talking to Sehun for almost an hour. The two of you ended up grabbing seats at the bar. You talked about where he grew up and how he ended up in New York. He talked about what he wanted to do in the future, the places he wanted to travel, and the music he liked. While you two talked, you realized that you had a lot in common. The way Sehun talked to you wasn’t too flirty and proved that he wasn’t just trying to get you in a Lyft back to his apartment.

You couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was either. He had dark eyes that you could get lost in. His smile was enough to make any woman weak and his lips were such a sexy shape that you almost wanted to kiss them. You noticed his style, too. He seemed to be a pretty simple man, wearing a striped button down, a pair of khaki shorts, and some white designer sneakers you noticed when he got up to use the bathroom. At some point during your conversation, he mentioned that it was getting hot and he stripped down to the T-shirt he was wearing underneath. From what you could see, he seemed like he worked out a bit.

You cleared your throat as Baekhyun crossed your mind again. It made you feel a bit guilty, even. You looked back at the table your friends were still sitting at. “Didn’t your friends leave a while ago?”

He chuckled, flashing a bright smile. “Yeah. They went to another bar but I was enjoying our conversation so I stayed here instead. I’ll find them eventually...” He put his finger on his chin for a moment, calculating his next move. “What do you usually do on weekends?”

“Nothing much. Usually I hang out with my friends or run errands. Since the weather’s gonna be shitty tomorrow, I’ll probably just stay in.”

“It’s supposed to be nice on Sunday,” he said, downing the rest of his drink. “To be honest, I’m a little drunk now but I want to ask you anyway…Would you wanna maybe go on a date with me on Sunday? We could get lunch or go to the park or something.”

You raised your eyebrows, shocked at the sudden invitation. No one had ever been this straightforward with you before. You weren’t used to a man just asking you out like this.

You frowned, thinking of Baekhyun again. “I’m kind of with someone.”

“Kind of?” He cleared his throat, raising his eyebrows. “You don’t seem too sure…”

“It’s complicated...but I’m down to be friends, if you want,” you said, pushing your phone toward him. Sehun was a really cool guy but you couldn’t accept a date with him. Not when you had Baekhyun by your side. If this had been months ago, before you and Baekhyun had sex for the first time, you would’ve accepted a date with him.

Sehun wasn’t pleased with your response. To be honest, he was disappointed. You were one of the most interesting girls he’d met in a long time. There were a handful of girls out there who just wanted sex or a meal or whatever, but you didn’t give off that vibe at all. He was genuinely interested in getting to know you. From your answer, he knew that you were probably in some situationship and neither of you were on the same page. This was a truth he knew all too well.

The disappointment on his face was showing and you felt bad as he proceeded to put his number in your phone anyway. “If you’re ever kind of single, you should give me a call.”

And with a wink, he was off.

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