genre: part one in a drabble series called ‘limerence’ about boyfriend!zach
about: not only did you literally stumble into zach, but into his heart as well.
Your first day at a brand new school couldn’t be going better. You had single-handedly managed to rip your brand new silk dress, lose your class schedule, and make 0 friends in a span of less than 4 hours.
“What kind of shit is this?” You thought to yourself as you searched the sea of students in the crowded hall for a friendly face, finding none. You needed to ask someone to show you where the science hall was and help you open your locker, but no one seemed to want to give you the time of day.
There was a tedious familiarity of standing alone in a crowded space, watching people pass you by and feeling like you were merely an object strategically placed to display teenage normalcy.
The end of lunch was fast approaching and standing feeling sorry for yourself was getting old. With newfound determination you bobby pinned the strap of your dress back on, put the loose tendrils of your hair behind your ear, and murmured a soft, “you got this, kid,” under your breath.
You had spotted a girl dressed in a vivid daffodil colored sundress and you made a beeline straight towards her. Consumed by your sudden sense of purpose and thoughts of how she looked like a beacon of light in the cold murky waters that was the student body, you hadn’t noticed a certain tall basketball player was about to cross your path.
With a small gasp of surprise you butted straight into his side, swaying backwards and tripping over your feet. A small groan of defeat left your lips as a small ache developed on the bridge of your nose.
“Hey are you okay?”
His voice was like deep, rich, smooth chocolate and laced with such genuine concern that it almost seemed to quell the dull twinge of pain on your face. Wanting to see if such an alluring voice had an equally alluring face you looked up and damn it did.
You could feel your eyes involuntarily widening and the once leisure pace of your beating heart turn rapid. You swept over the gorgeous expanse of his face, committing the slope of his nose and the smooth flesh of his pout to memory in case you never had another chance to be at such close proximity to him.
“Not trying to be rude, but i’m pretty sure we lost this staring contest a long time ago.” His words brought you back to reality and an uncontrollable blush coated your cheeks, you were sure he could feel the burning heat of them.
“Actually you lost, i’ve been staring for how long?” Is all you could muster, trying to mask your embarrassment with humor. The beautiful stranger let out a small chuckle, a sound so lovely it brought a smile to your face.
“So long I think you broke a record just now,” he responds playing along. “The dudes from guinness world records should be here any minute now.”
You pretend to look around the halls in search for them. “Good. They’re not here yet, I still have time to prepare my acceptance speech.” You both laugh at your comment and you can’t help the bubbling giddiness you feel from the silly exchange of words with him. “You’re funny, whats your name?”
“Nice. I’m Zach.” You had never thought a name could be this hot until now. Wanting to prolong your time with him, get your stupid locker open, and get to at least one class without being late you asked, “Well Zach, besides helping me break world records would you mind helping me with the glorious task of opening my locker and taking me to the science hall? You will be rewarded generously.”
His coffee brown eyes look off into the distance, pretending to ponder over your offer. “Lead the way.”
Your lips turn up in a content smile, walking over to your locker with a spring in your step. “My combination is 0-8-24.”
You watch as his lithe fingers spin over the lock, opening it on the first time with a satisfying click. “There you go.”
You try not to gape at how quickly and simply he opened it, you had stood there before for a good 10 minutes without any luck. “I swear I know how to open lockers, this one just didn’t like me.”
He smiles amused at how adorably your eyebrows furrowed, expressing your distaste at the rusty blue locker. “Well now that this is opened, whats my reward?”
He takes a flirtatious tone, insinuating that he has a certain something in mind.
“Well that depends, what do you want?” Your words come out breathy as he steps closer to you. He laughs lightly at the sudden change in your tone, the once ringing voice now soft-spoken.
“A date,” he responds in an indifferent tone that is more suited to say just buying some stuff or gonna go out for a walk. You raise your eyebrow at his request, faking your cool composure.
“Take me to the science hall and submit a one page essay about why I should and I might just consider it.”
hello! this is the first time i’ve ever put one of my works out there and i’d really appreciate any feedback anyone has :-)
A sequel to “Everyone Needs Some Love”. I’m in a fluffy Dark mood again. Sorry not sorry. It also went a bit off what the you requests. Again, sorry….but sorta not sorry :)
Fic Request: “ Can I get
a seduction attempt from Dark that’s kinda a sequel to Everyone Needs Some
Four weeks. Four weeks of silence and peace. Ever since your encounter with Dark, Mark has become more cheerful. Every morning you were greeted with a smiling man, energized and ready for the day. Where you were grumpy and tired, glaring at Mark as he raced around the house. When you had asked him why the sudden mood-swing, Mark shrugged. “It’s like a fog lifted from my head,” He told you. “I feel clearer, lighter. I don’t know what you did, but I haven’t heard or felt anything from him in a while.” You don’t know why, but it troubled you Mark said this. You should feel happy that Dark had calmed, but for some reason, there was a nagging feeling at the back of your mind. Telling you Mark was a ticking time-bomb.
One morning, while you were sipping on your morning beverage, Mark appeared looking pale and twitchy. “Wow,” You said, grimacing at his expression. “For once I actually want to see you jumping around early in the morning. Are you ok?” Mark didn’t answer, he swayed slightly, gripping onto the kitchen bench and leaning against it. “I…I should apologize,” He said. “For what?” You asked, utterly confused. His eyes turned upwards, chocolate brown laced with black. “I don’t think I can hold him back much longer.” You rushed to his side, taking his hand and cupping the side of his face. He felt hot, as if taken by some fever. “Mark, hey! Come on now, you’ve done so well.” You told him, gripping his hand tightly. “You can’t lose after all this time.” “He’s…stronger,” Mark grunted. “He’s been holding back. Deliberately staying away…” Mark winced. The coal black taking over his smooth brown eyes. “(Y/N) you need to go. He’ll be able to…stay in control for longer.” You shook your head, holding his head in your hands and forcing him to look at you. “Mark, hang in there!” You ordered. “Don’t go. Please, stay with me!” He blinked and Dark sighed, lifting his hand to coil his fingers with yours. “It’s been a while, dear. Miss me?”
You tried to move back, but Dark’s hand latched onto your waist, holding you close to him. “Easy now,” He said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.” You swallowed thickly, lowering your free hand on Dark’s face to his chest. “So, you’ve been gaining strength, huh?” You asked coldly. “I thought I had soothed you into a slumber or something.” Dark chuckled, moving your hand to his lips and lightly kissing the back of your palm. “For a while you did,” He murmured into your skin. “But our little session was too short for my liking. So I stayed away, enough to attain some power over Mark. Now he’ll stay in his little corner till I say otherwise. ” Dark ran his lips over your hand, his eyes falling shut as he lightly pecked your fingers with kisses. You withdrew your hand, ignoring the small growl that ripped from his chest. “What do you want?” You asked. “Another cuddle?Sorry, but that was a one-time thing.” Dark hummed quietly. His fingers kneading your waist as he bit his lip. “I’m sure I can change your mind.” You scoffed, “Dream on, big boy. I doubt it.” Dark grinned. A wicked, sharp smile that caused goose-bumps to rise on your arms. “Really? Because, I can be very persuasive.” Moving both hands over your hips, Dark moved closer, holding you still as he lowered his head so his lips brushed your ear. “And, my dear, I’ve got all day to persuade you.” He whispered, his moving lips fluttering over your neck. You shivered, your hands gripping his shirt as he trailed the tip of his nose against your skin. The scruff on his cheeks tickled as he nuzzled you. You whimpered softly as he drew you closer, he breath washing over you.
It had felt like an eternity during his time in the void. He drank in your scent. The fragrance renewing his memories of your touch. He wanted it so badly. To feel you against him. To have your fingers trailing his body. But you were defiant. When his fingers lowered, you drew back, wincing as he tightened his grip. He had to tread carefully. He had injured you before, your trust in him was nothing but a sliver. If Dark wanted you, he would have to be patient.
Dark’s hands rose up your back. Massaging the tender spots on your shoulders, pressing lightly on your spine as his mouth lingered on your throat. You felt him breathe under your hands. His chest rising and falling, quickening when you arched into him. That same rumble echoed out of him. Vibrating through him and into you. You rested your head on his shoulder, allowing him to enclose his arms around you. His heart-beat was steady, a deep throb under the trembling base of his growl. It was…nice. Had Dark felt this way when you had touched him? His head dipped lower, his lips grazing over your shoulder. His voice low as he spoke. “When we were on that couch, I was lost, I felt like I was floating away into nothing.” His fingers stroked your arms, circling your wrists and twisting with your hands. “I was in a hole. Something I will try not to fall into again, but, you were the rope that pulled me out.” You whimpered when Dark pressed a kiss on your shoulder. “I thank you for that.” He said, “And I want to return what you did for me.” You lifted your head to meet his gaze. That same warmth from four weeks ago had returned, and a small smile stretched his lips. “Dark, I..I shouldn’t-” “I don’t want you to do anything,” Dark said. “Just…stay still for me.” You nodded and Dark lowered his lips to yours. He paused for a moment. A hairs breadth away from meeting you. His eyes searched your own. Permission? Denial? Acceptance? He only saw curiosity, and with a gentle smile, he leaned into you. The kiss was slow, both of you uncertain. But Dark continued on, tasting you with as much patience as he could muster. I’ve hurt her. She won’t accept me. Not yet. Your eyes closed and you felt one hand leave yours to cup your face. His thumb brushed your cheek, fingers tangling in your hair.
Suddenly, Dark drew back with a quiet hiss. “Dammit,” He growled, holding his head. “Dark?” Your voice was distant. Like you were shouting from the end of a tunnel. Get back in your cage! Mark yelled. You don’t belong here! Dark stumbled backwards. His back striking a wall as he fought with his body to stay in control. He felt you grip his hand, begging him to talk to you. He growled and Mark shoved her back. “Stay away,” Mark warned. But Dark snarled at him. “I’m not done with her,” He said through clenched teeth. “You are done.” Mark yelled. “I’m not letting you toy with her.” Dark looked up at you, eyes wide and confused. Conflicted. How should you help? Who should you help? Dark chuckled, “See, love. It didn’t take long, you’re almost on my side now.” Your eyes sharpened, anger flaring in those sparkling gems. “So that’s what this was about?” You asked, “You just wanted me to keep Mark back.” What? No? He hadn’t meant it that way! Before he could mend what he did, Mark threw back his head, slamming his skull into the wall. Dark howled and Mark pulled him back. He fell into the abyss, your name flying from his lips.
Potions & Chocolate (Carry On Valentine’s Celebration Day 2)
Idk if this is what was meant by the Valentine’s Chocolate prompt, but I had fun with it! Hope you enjoy @carryon-valentines
Gareth seemed pretty pleased to be helping the Chosen One out with a prank. Simon had to admit he too was pretty pleased with himself. Valentine’s Day was on the horizon and he’d come up with the perfect trick to play on Baz. Penny glared at the two of them from across the table, her arms crossed. “What you’re planning is despicable,” She said. Simon looked at her in disbelief. “What I’m doing? This is nothing compared to what he did to me last week!” Baz had tripped Simon as he had been carrying a love potion precariously down the hall. It had spilled all over him, causing him to moon over anyone he came into contact with that day. Penny’s glare intensified. “What he did was terrible, yes, but this is worse. The potion he spilled on you just made you like everybody you saw. This potion will make him go after who he’s actually in love with. You’re going to expose his feelings for someone. Against his will.” Simon huffed. “Look I’m not going to force him to eat them. I’m just going to leave them out. With my name on the box. But knowing him he’ll be a thieving prat and eat at least some of them.” She shook her head and got up to leave. “Penny are you seriously siding with him?” She looked at Simon tiredly. “This is going to backfire Simon, badly.” With that she left Simon with Gareth and exited the dining hall. He felt a twinge of guilt as he thought about Penny’s point. This was technically worse than what Baz had done. But wasn’t that the point of revenge? “Don’t listen to her,” Gareth said excitedly, “This is the best plan ever.” Simon glanced at their weapon. A heart shaped box filled with mint chocolate candies, laced with a powerful love potion. It enhanced a person’s feelings for the one they loved and removed inhibitions. Couples often gave each other this potion to spice up their love lives. Agatha, his ex-girlfriend, raised a blonde eyebrow in amusement. “Wow. I never even received a love potion like that from you. Baz must be special, huh?” Simon ignored the jab and left to go set up his plan.
Baz was suspicious. Snow had been acting strange all afternoon and he had a feeling it was about the prank he’d played on him last week. It had been sadistically amusing to help Snow up after he had just tripped him and find Snow swooning over him instead of cursing. He hadn’t realized Snow had been carrying a love potion when he’d tripped him, but it had made the event all the more enjoyable. He watched warily as Snow entered their room and carelessly threw a heart shaped box on his desk. Without a word Snow grabbed his shower things and locked himself in the bathroom. When Baz heard the water running he walked over to the chocolate box, curious to see who had given him the clichéd romantic candy. The tag simply said Simon in handwriting that eerily resembled Gareth’s. Baz smirked. He seriously doubted Gareth had confessed his secret love for Snow. No, this was a half-assed attempt at revenge. When Snow left the bathroom Baz put on his best innocent expression. Snow eyed him, which was understandable considering Baz was standing next to Snow’s desk. Baz gestured to the candy box. “May I?” Snow looked flustered, as if he hadn’t planned for Baz to ask politely. “Um, sure.” Baz picked one up, drew the candy to his mouth, and then paused. He enjoyed the hopeful look in Snow’s eyes before he pulled the candy away. “I’m sorry Snow. I’m being rude. This is your candy after all. Let’s share a piece. I’m not in the mood to eat a whole one anyways.” The color drained from Snow’s face. “I-I…don’t mind. Just have it.” “Oh I insist.” Baz set the chocolate on the desk and pulled out his wand. “Sharing is caring.” The chocolate split into two equal halves. Containing his cruel enjoyment, Baz handed one of the halves to Snow, who looked as if he wanted to bolt. No matter what happened Baz would win. Because either Snow would sacrifice his pride and confess or he’d damn himself to the same prank he wanted to inflict on Baz. Whatever was in the chocolate, Baz was sure he could handle it if it meant seeing Snow lose. “Cheers,” Baz said. He kept his eyes on Snow the whole time, making sure he put the chocolate in his mouth and didn’t cheek it. He watched in amusement as Snow swallowed. The chocolate was minty and very overly sweet. So a love potion then. This didn’t shock Baz that much. He felt the caution he so strictly implemented around Snow slip away. Suddenly he realized exactly what love potion Snow had used, the Love Is Blind serum. He couldn’t summon the proper outrage that he knew he would normally feel. Instead he felt affectionate amusement towards Snow for the cleverness of it. Snow on the other hand looked severely confused, as if the potion had revealed something inconceivable. For a moment Baz wondered if Snow had found out he had feelings for Penny. Or, Baz thought humorously, maybe Snow did have feelings for Gareth after all. Instead of running out of the room however, Snow paused. Baz watched as the confusion melted away. Snow looked up at him and gave him the sappiest grin he had ever seen. “Hi,” Snow said admiringly.
Simon studied Baz as he had never allowed himself to before. Baz’s grey eyes were warm for once instead of harsh. And his posture was relaxed instead of arrogantly stiff. The overall effect was softening on Baz’s features, making him the tiniest bit accessible to Simon. “You seem happy,” Baz commented. “I am,” Simon said. With an unselfconscious step forward Simon wrapped his arms around Baz, enjoying the cool feel of his skin. Baz made a startled noise but didn’t move away. Instead he chuckled warmly and hugged him back. “So the truth reveals itself,” Simon said. “I thought you knew. That you’d done this specifically to humiliate me,” Baz murmured. “I did want to humiliate you. I just didn’t know it was me you liked.” “You never suspected?” Simon pushed his face into the crook of Baz’s neck and shivered at the cold temperature of his skin. “No. I didn’t consider myself in your league I guess.” Baz nudged Simon’s temple with his nose. “You’re right. You outrank me considerably.” Simon laughed freely at that and then pressed his lips against Baz’s. Baz kissed him back awkwardly, as if the activity was unfamiliar to him. Simon didn’t care; in fact he enjoyed the experimental way Baz kissed him. It felt like Simon was a whole new experience for Baz to explore and he was more than willing to help him in his discoveries. After a few minutes Baz opened his mouth, letting Simon deepen the kiss. It was amazing and somehow familiar. Simon realized, surprising himself, that he had fantasized about this before. About kissing Baz, in a dream maybe? Before they could go much further the door to their room flew open. Penny stood there, looking as if she were about to start a lecture, and then froze. She glanced at the two of them, twined around one another and put a hand to cover her mouth. She started to laugh uncontrollably. “Oh merlin, you two…of course…” Then she straightened and pointed her ring at them. “As you were.” Simon felt the effects of the potion snap out of him. It was shocking and felt like Penny had splashed ice water on him. Baz flinched away, obviously experiencing the same unpleasant sensation. Then they simply stared at each other, awestruck. “So you two are in love with each other?” Penny asked. “Yes,” Baz said at the same time Simon said, “I guess.” She smirked. “I told you this would back fire,” She said. And then Penny left the room. “Um,” Simon started awkwardly, “So…Happy Valentine’s Day?” Baz stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing. After he got it out of his system he pulled Simon to him and kissed him enthusiastically. “You are an absolute git, you know that right?” Baz said. “For once I am not going to argue with you on that,” Simon replied. “I didn’t imagine it happening this way…” Baz trailed off. “But?” Baz grinned. “But I’m glad it did.” Simon smiled, agreeing with Baz for a second time. Then he pulled him forward and kissed him as if he were under a spell, Baz’s spell.
It’s Valentine’s Day, and in a moment of true bravery, you decide to gift your long-time crush Im Youngmin with chocolates. When you see how many other girls have also given him gifts, your confidence dips, but it all works out in the end
valentine’s day fic in july? hell yeah lets do it
high school au! ft. im nayoung (pristin) and choi seungcheol (17) bc they’re also 95 liners
seonho and guanlin as reader’s best friends
You sighed, looking down at the slightly scraggly box of
chocolates that you’d been clutching in your hand since you left home that
Valentine’s Day. It was a simple black box with a red ribbon that you’d done
your best to tie cutely, the words “to: im youngmin ♡”.
Im Youngmin was quite possibly the
most popular guy at your high school. As an all-rounded sports player with the
brains to go along with it, people either wanted to date him or be him. You
fell into the first category.
Normally, you didn’t crush on guys
like this, but one time, when you were buying some food before cram school, you
forgot your wallet. Youngmin, who had been standing in line behind you, offered
to pay, and you still hadn’t forgotten his kindness a year later.
“(Y/N), you’re really doing this?”
Your best friend Yoo Seonho asked, eyebrows raised.
“Yes, dumbass, I’m really doing
this,” you hissed, shoving your elbow into his ribs. He groaned in pain, making
Lai Guanlin, your other best friend, snicker.
“Okay, that’s his classroom,” you
nodded firmly to yourself, before turning to glare at your idiots of best
friends. “Can you guys leave? Please? This is embarrassing enough as it is
without you two being there.”
Seonho was obviously about to argue
with you when Guanlin sighed and dragged the younger off towards your
It has been forever and a day. I want to thank @galadriel26, @lenfaz, @teamhook, @kmomof4 for their encouragement as I dealt with a wicked bouth of writer’s block these last few months. xoxo
The tight squeeze on Killian’s arm hurt like hell, second only to the stabbing pain that went shooting through his skull as he tried to open his eyes. Slamming his lids shut in an effort to stop the agonizing throb, he took stock of his surroundings using other senses.
Machines beeped as the kung fu grip on his biceps relaxed. The air smelled medicinal and the drone of daytime television came from off in the distance.
Had he been in an accident?
Ignoring the pain, he opened his eyes again and, as his pupils adjusted to the harsh lighting, he took stock.
He flexed his toes and bent his knees, breathing out a sigh of relief when he could move them, the rasp of crappy industrial linens under his legs.
A nurse bustled in, startling him and Killian choke-coughed, his throat raw.
“What happened?” His voice was wrecked and gravelly, and it felt like he was trying to swallow around a rock.
The nurse held up a finger and went to the phone on the wall.
“Can you let Dr. Miller know the patient in room 204 is awake?” She hung up and turned, walking over to the bed and taking Killian’s wrist in her hand. “The doctor will be in shortly to go over things with you, Mr. Jones.” She avoided eye contact with him as she took his pulse, checked the last reading on the blood pressure machine and went to the computer to type in some numbers.
Realizing she wasn’t going to give him any information, Killian leaned his aching head back onto his pillow and started wracking his brain.
He remembered the crisis team standing by while his manager raked him over the coals for getting arrested. Killian had slouched in the corner, rum bottle in hand, as the suits devised a PR plan to pull their client’s ass out of the mess he’d put himself in. When they left, he’d made a few calls and by nightfall, a party was in full swing.
Had he talked to her? Killian scrunched up his face trying hard to separate reality from the dozens of conversations he’d had in his head with her since that night on the boat. The night they’d kissed and touched, her blonde head in his lap as –
No, wait. That hadn’t been on the boat. And that hadn’t been Emma. The hair was too brittle. The eyes all wrong. The sounds she made as he fucked her – them, because holy shit there were two – were porn star fake.
A boisterous knock came and before Killian could croak out a “come in” the door swung open. A doctor he didn’t recognize was followed into the room by a man he knew all too well, and parts of his lost night came flooding back.
You absolutely, positively, loved, for a reason you couldn’t explain, being underestimated. There was nothing more amazing than the time that you scored 5 goals during your first varsity lacrosse game as a freshman against your completely unsuspecting rivals, their mouths permanently hanging open in shock. Or when you graduated first in your class from medical school, the boys that had told you that you should “quit while you can and model” sitting front row. Or, last but not least, when you became the youngest surgeon in the United States to complete a successful craniotomy solo, your condescending boss forcing a tight smile and an “I always believed in you” while handing you the award as you posed for photos.
Dragging across your skin, wiggling a damp path over the curve of your chin. Tumbling, it rolls across the column of your neck; a mint raindrop, winding down a marble column. For a moment, the damned thing rests in the dip between your collarbones, lounging, pooling comfortably. Shining from the overhead sun, round, perfectly plump; hanging in a tantalizingly wet orb, like a grape dangling from the vine. Swirling desire fogs his mind, daring him to swipe his tongue over it. Over you. He wonders what sort of flavor would dance across his tastebuds. Sweet, minty, of course-but maybe your skin would sweeten it more, more, so much it feels like clouds melting through his senses. His musings shatter as you shift and it rolls from your collarbones. And rolls, and rolls; paving a path along smooth skin as the clock’s hands shudder and freeze. Eyes widen slightly. His breath filters in ragged gasps; no amount of oxygen can fan the heat snaking through the pit of his stomach. Fingers wrap tighter. Suddenly it plummets, driving south with all the fury of a northern downpour’s first raindrops. As it reaches the curve of your breasts, brain nearly shudders to a halt; something like a gasp punches out of his frigid lips, but you don’t notice. Like a magnet, it pulls his attention until mint eyes wander skittishly over your chest. His gaze catches, sticking. Finally it plows through, trickling a path between your breasts. For a moment, it disappears from sight before melting into the fabric of your blouse.
Does he love ice cream? Of course. But this may be his first time being jealous of it.
“Ray?” your voice rips his gaze back up to your eyes. Tomato sweeps over his skin until his face is blanketed in blush. He stutters for a moment, hands trembling; drips of mint chocolate chip plummeting like a downpour. Again, he gulps; every errant minty raindrop rolling across the grooves of his waffle cone sends images reeling through his mind. Ray coughs. You might not like perverts, nagging thoughts remind. He crosses his legs and tried his best stop replaying how that ice cream wound down your neck.
“Are you alright?” Usually your sweet voice pulls him back from the edge; now it rolls across the back of his neck like smoke curling over water. Goosebumps jump across his skin. How can you do this to him, just like that…? “You haven’t touched your ice cream, babe. It’s starting to melt!”
He clears his throat; if only clearing his mind was that easy.
“Of cou—” Suddenly your fingers unwrap from the cone, sliding across to rest on his thigh. Ray flinches. Words stutter, tripping over themselves in his throat as they fight to struggle free; they end up tumbling out in a jumbled gasp of half-formed syllables. Oh god why can’t he just be a smooth talker for you, just once in his life—
“Do you not like mint? I’m sorry, I should’ve asked before I got it…” Your eyes search his face, picking him apart; something’s wrong, and you won’t be fooled (of course, you can’t know his real problem is all the fantasies of prying off your clothing right then and there). A frown tangles with the corners of your lips; he hates when you make that face…
Suddenly mouth presses against mouth. Did you do that? Did he? What if you don’t want him to be so bold…
But then your frigid lips shift against his own and his insecurities vanish, a tiny flicker of flame thrust under a bathtub faucet. Red washes over his face again. His cheeks burn, but the sensation spikes excitement like sparks bouncing across his skin. Even your cold lips can’t drop his temperature.
Courageous, Ray’s tongue skips across your lips. Mint chocolate chip, laced with a flavor so sweetly yours it dredges whirlpools through his chest, rewards his tastebuds. Go farther, the taste tempts. He obliges; his tongue swipes at the corner of your mouth, begging for entry. Your lips slip open; he grins against you. Sweeping his tongue across the back of your teeth, against the roof of your mouth, along your tongue, Ray cracks little by little. Mint flavor engulfs him; everything is mint and freezing and he’s trying to lick every last bit of flavor from your mouth, but somehow there’s always more—he can’t complain.
“There was a little bit on your mouth,” you explain, breathless, when ice cream melting across your fingers forces you to tug away. Ray gasps, heaving; all the oxygen in the world can’t quench the heat curling through his body.
Mint eyes trail down your body, melting down your skin. Ray’s eyes suck in every detail, starving; he waits. You cram the rest of the cone in your mouth. You raise an eyebrow, challenging. He chuckles, voice tiny, sweet; but he’s done waiting.
His tongue jumps to your neck, curling across your skin. Ray drags, slow as molasses. A wet path glistens in the sunlight, trailing behind his mouth. Heaven must taste like mint, sampled from your smooth skin. Shivers tumble down his spine when you gasp, sticky fingers tangling through his hair. Your nails graze his skin; a shuddering breath escapes, skips along your throat as he winds down. His cone falls, forgotten; his fingers prefer sticking to the worlds-sweeter stretches of your waist. Bold, he peeks up at you; eyes flash when they meet yours. Down he trails; now your face flushes as his tongue winds timid circles around the dip of your cleavage. Quickly, he peeks around before a finger curves over the top of your shirt and tugs it. One last swipe rolls over your exposed skin; you gasp against his tongue, reaching desperate for his shoulders as he pulls away.
“There was a little bit on you, too,” he explains, innocent.
As he threads his fingers through yours, tugging you behind him toward your room, you’re struck with the impression that his intentions are anything but.
Since there was no more information given for this, I decided to make it for Oikawa, meeting a teasing/eccentric person with a prank streak a mile wide. That, and I really wanted to write a rom-com scenario. It’s not that much romance (if at all, really), but I had fun writing it which is what matters.
Oikawa had to admit, you sure as hell made good chocolates.
It is customary for him to receive chocolates during Valentine’s Day from his admirers. Although the cards would have beautifully laced ‘obligatory chocolates’ imprinted in ink or written in icing along the center of the heart-shaped chocolate, he knew that aside from a few, they weren’t just obligatory.
Yours catches his eye a tad more than the others, though, because he can’t understand it. It’s weird, to say the least—who makes alien-shaped chocolates with the writing ‘you’re out of this world!’ and their name on the inside of their card?
Iwaizumi usually could care less, but he finds it funny to watch Oikawa’s confused (and remarkably bemused) stare at the chocolate piece in his hand. They stand outside Oikawa’s classroom after school to head to volleyball practice, and Iwaizumi glances at the chocolate and back at Oikawa and asks, “Who found out about your lame alien obsession?”
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, a knowing smirk on his face, “Was it you, Matsukawa, or Hanamaki.”
“None of us would ever think of sending you chocolates, ever. That’d feed your ego too much.” Iwaizumi glares back. “Besides, it has a name on it, right?”
“True…” Oikawa says, thoroughly stumped at the mystery of the chocolate aliens, “(l/n)(f/n)… She’s in our class, right?”
“I don’t keep track of your fangirls.”
Names and faces flash through Oikawa’s head as he tries to remember who you are. He frowns, looking upwards as if the answer is written on the ceiling, but the answer remains behind him as he hears his name being called down the hall.
He turns, putting on his usual charming smile. “Oh, (l/n)-san! I was just having the chocolates you sent right now, actually—er, Iwaizumi and I, I mean.” He makes sure to include Iwaizumi, because if he makes you think that the chocolates are exclusively for him, you’ll get the wrong idea for sure. “They’re really good!”
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at Oikawa’s weak attempt at indirect rejection.
You smile. “Oh, really? That’s great… so you like them, then?”
“Yeah, for sure!” Oikawa gives a reassuring ‘OK’ hand gesture and smiles back. “Anyways, Iwa-chan and I have to—”
“W-Would you… be willing to have them every day, then?” You ask, twiddling your fingers and averting your gaze.
“Ehh? (l/n)-san, are you asking me to marry you?” He says cheerfully, with a flirtatious and teasing smile and wink to match. He avoids the question completely, which is what he wanted and what he’s accustomed to, but—
Your voice goes flat in seriousness as you stop fidgeting and look at Oikawa almost robotically. Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s eyes both widen. There’s no way—you can’t be serious—
Oikawa pauses for a moment, and his smile falters. He takes a slow side glance in your direction to try and tell if you’re joking. Your voice sounded comically serious, but there was no way—you two were high schoolers. He knew his fans could be insane, but he never actually expected this. Normally, people would blush and squeal and stutter something like, “Wh-What? No! I mean… maybe… in a while…” but he was joking. He had never heard anyone so bluntly accept what was clearly a joke.
You look back at him, meeting his flabbergasted stare, purse-lipped smile and furrowed eyebrows with your own deadpan for a few seconds. The blush on his face went from ear to ear, and he seemed to be thinking of some way to let you down nicely. He didn’t look disgusted, per se, but he definitely did not look as composed as he did when he turned down everyday confessions.
“Congratulations,” Iwaizumi says beside him. He gives a sardonic puff of air just short of a laugh, since he knows that Oikawa’s superficiality finally got him into a tight situation with a crazed fan. A stalker that found out he liked aliens, and now a marriage proposal? This was too good.
Oikawa gives a jejune chuckle, vowing to curse Iwaizumi later in his head, and looks back at you. “Um, as much as I… er… appreciate it, I—”
You can’t take it anymore, and burst out in laughter. Both Iwaizumi and Oikawa are thrown for a loop again, and between laughs, you manage to tell them, “you should… holy crap… the looks on your faces…”
Iwaizumi’s the first to shake out of the stupor, laughing along with you at Oikawa, and he says, “You totally fell for that.”
Oikawa’s face was more than red at this point, having been thoroughly duped, and glares at Iwaizumi. “Oh, shut it, Iwa-chan! You did, too!” He directs his anger towards you. “Who are you, anyways? Aren’t you just pretending it’s a joke ‘cause you knew I was going to reject you, or something?”
“No? I’m sorry, Oikawa-san. My friends told me that when you rejected them, you looked so composed and I bet that I could get it so that you wouldn’t be… but this… this is great.” You laugh. “Don’t worry. Don’t get me wrong, you’re cute and all, it’s just—a little too fake for me.”
Oikawa glares at you, but Iwaizumi seems to have taken a liking. “Then what about the aliens?”
You raise an eyebrow. “Aliens? What about them? Those are a little random, I guess. I just like aliens.”
“Yeah,” Iwaizumi smirks, “so does he.”
“Oh, really?” You ask, genuinely surprised. “What a coincidence.”
“Yeah, what a coincidence.” Oikawa repeats sarcastically, giving the same kind of condescending stare he’d give Kageyama or Ushijima, “Anyway, Iwa-chan. Practice.”
Iwaizumi grins at you one last time before the two start heading off, but you call Oikawa out one last time.
“Still, Oikawa-san, marriage might not be all that bad.”
He can’t tell how serious or joking you are, so he simply glares and turns away as Iwaizumi chuckles and teases him down the hall.
“Coach, that person’s been watching us for a while now. I thought the policy was to kick fans out of the gym because of what happened last time?” Oikawa says, smiling leisurely at his coach, but he can’t help the short glare he sends at you in the stands.
“No, Oikawa, (l/n)-san is the new manager.” The coach replies, not averting his eyes away from his clipboard.
So I decided to translate Karma’s profile from Graduation Album Time for the hell of it since it was part of the preview. I don’t guarantee complete accuracy, so let me know if I made any mistakes since accuracy is very important. Thank you. m( _ _ )m
*reads Okuda’s comment* …I’m starting to wish we had a list of what kind of shady things he requested Okuda to make for him other than stink compounds and cyanide-laced chocolate. And possibly chloroform. This is not a joke, you two. Lives are at stake here.
With that out of the way, here’s Karma’s profile.
E-1 - Akabane Karma (赤羽業)
Members of the Akabane Family
Father: Day trader
Mother: Day trader
Siblings: Only child
An only child. Because his house is enveloped by the fragrance of Indian incense, he gives off a faint scent of it as well.
Reason for transfer into Class E: bad behaviour
to his excellent grades, his problematic behaviour was overlooked, but
using violence to save an upperclassman in Class E subsequently drops
him into Class E