if i drink enough i can tell myself it's no big deal. but

blue orchids

hanahaki & soulmate au (reposted)

pairing: jungkook | reader
genre: angst and a sprinkle of fluff
word count: 18.748
warnings: implied smut
disclaimer: I do not own the hanahaki disease concept.

I am immensely thankful for the talented people who have created art / edits for this story: x, x, x, x, x, x make sure to check them out ♡

You were eighteen years old when Jimin’s name showed up on your hand.

The day is fresh and clear in your memory: early December, the winds stronger than ever as they threatened to pierce through the windows of your room, hints of snowflake dancing in the air as the first snowfall augured an even sharper winter. There was a smile on your face that didn’t match the unrelenting coldness of the month, and even though the night was falling and the air felt icy on the tips of your fingers, there was only warmth in your chest as you went through the pictures of your phone.

Pictures of you and Jimin drinking hot chocolate, of clumsy iceskating, of funny faces that made you laugh out loud in the quietness of your bedroom. The feeling sparking in your chest could be considered somewhat dangerous— after all, you were just a girl that didn’t have any marks on her skin, a girl whose fate was yet to be decided. Something as enigmatic as love could be a treacherous thing, too risky for someone that couldn’t decide their destiny on their own.

Keep reading

no one else

the morning after a few too many drinks, you discover you called someone you haven’t spoken to in months, someone harry’s not too happy you contacted.

i always feel really uncomfy writing smut its just not my thing but i’m trying for you guys lmao

that said, warning: smut.


let me know what you think

There was a soft knock at my apartment door and my friend Julia kicked me in bed, “Get the door,” She muttered, “Pro'ly your boyfriend.”

I took my time getting out of bed and Harry knocked again. I swung the door open and barely looked at him before climbing back into bed.

"Hey,” Harry said, scanning the room full of scattered alcohol bottles all at various stages of emptiness, “Heard you had a rough night.”

“Don’t talk so loud.” I said and pulled the covers over my head. I felt the bed shift as he sat down and rubbed a hand down my back. I sighed and pulled the covers down so I could see him and he was smiling slightly at me, a bit of sympathy in his eyes. “Can you hold me for a bit?”

Keep reading

Fanfiction - A Lifetime of Her (Part V)

Part V – “But we’re still sleeping like we’re lovers”


I stood there, transfixed by the overwhelming feeling of her in my arms, unbelievingly real against the paleness of my tired memories. I didn’t know what had happened to her – clearly something had happened – but was only glad I had found her, right in the moment when my arms seemed to be so needed to hold her.

“Will ye tell me?” I murmured against her hair – fragrant like a freshly squeezed lemon, like a garden after pouring rain -, my hands rubbing her back in soothing circles. “What happened?”

“I will.” She tilted her chin, allowing our eyes to meet – hers were dry but glassy, as if her body was wrecked with fever. “I want to tell you.”

“Good.” I attempted a calming smile, but felt the muscles of my face stiff from concern. “Do ye want to sit down?”

“We can’t talk here.” Claire told me, finally stepping back, away from the comfort of my body – I felt the loss of her warmth as acutely as I would miss a limb. Phantom pain, permanent and excruciating, constructed by the mind to deal with unbearable loss. “This is Geillis place – she is a close friend – and she’ll be arriving shortly from work. I thought she had forgotten her keys when you knocked.”

“Ye can come to my house.” I offered, almost biting my tongue in eagerness. The image of Claire in my home - the tips of her fingers brushing the book spines in the shelf, her lips drinking from one of my glasses - a kiss shared through the marks we’d both leave there – made my heart swell to the point of bursting. “I mean, we can have a conversation there without being disturbed or interrupted.” I babbled, struggling to explain myself over a bout of flushing cheeks.

“Alright.” She nodded in agreement – trusting me implicitly. Naturally. “Let me just feed Adso and grab my coat.” The feline meowed in agreement and rubbed against Claire’s legs, sleek and charming, as if he had been waiting to be acknowledged.

We made our way through the pleasant streets of Edinburgh, headed towards my house, located just a few blocks away. We traded some words, but were mostly immersed in our thoughts – preparing what we would say and do, when we finally could expose ourselves in a safe haven. As we walked, we didn’t touch – not even our arms bumped into each other, in that casual way of shared movement. We were both consciously avoiding to touch, keeping a safe distance, even if acutely aware of each other.

“It isna a big house.” I apologized in a jumbled way as we entered my apartment, collecting unmatched socks and forgotten papers along the way.

“I love it!” Claire smiled in a reassuring way, admiring the big flat screen and black speakers. Her butterscotch eyes covered my pictures and books, the quilt thrown over the back of the sofa, the magazines and pamphlets I had sorted inside a little basket next to the bookcase. “I can tell you live here – it’s warm and alive. It’s a real home.”

I grinned in content – almost purring in satisfaction -, as she took off her coat. She wandered around, touching objects with a respectful hand and clicking her tongue in appreciation of my book collection. Eventually she talked again, her back turned to me.

“Where is your bedroom?” She asked in a rough voice, unhinged – and then, predicting my puzzlement, she added in a low and hesitant tone, as if talking to herself. “I haven’t been sleeping much – I didn’t want to close my eyes and let my mind roam freely. I can barely stand on my feet, to be honest. Besides,” Claire turned and glanced at me, fumbling again with her sleeves. “I think it would be easier to talk if we touched.”

“Aye.” I breathed deeply, walking towards my room. “Whatever ye need.”

I watched as she laid down on my bed, above the plaid that meant home to me – taking off her boots and socks in the process. Her movements were slow and calculated, as if she wished to cause minimal impact with her presence, so that I would carry on with my life after her departure. Claire rolled to her side, curled like an unborn child, safe and peaceful in the womb.

I came around the bed and managed to lay down – silent and precise as a thief in the night -, leaving an empty space between us, as I faced her. She seemed tired beyond her years and utterly broken.

Without a word she slid her hand to the middle of the bed, where I could reach out and touch it – I did so, softly playing with her fingers until she relaxed and our hands were entwined.

“Why are ye here?” I asked, my voice husky. Her face was a duality of shadows and bursts of light, coming from the window to dance on her features. “In Scotland?”

“I had to come.” Claire adjusted her face on the pillow, caressing the nail of my thumb with her fingers, her golden wedding ring cold like a fetch between us. “I couldn’t be in Boston right now – I needed time to think. This is the one place that has been home to me.”

“Are ye still married?” I risked, watching in anguish as she winced in pain. She sighed – but the movements of my hand in hers seemed to calm her enough to go on.

“Separated.” She licked her quivering bottom lip, avoiding my eyes. “It turns out Frank wasn’t the man I thought he was.  He wanted to own me.” Claire pursed her lips in anger. “And when he couldn’t own me, I wasn’t enough. Everyday became a war between us. A long and tiresome war.”

I gulped, taking in the shrapnel of her destruction. With a swift movement of my spare hand, I rolled up the sleeve of her sweater, revealing bruises the colour of mustard and moss, screaming against her marble white skin – marks of resentful fingers, forceful enough to break vessels and spirits. A lonely tear streamed down her cheek.

“He hurt ye!” I hissed furiously between clenched teeth, fighting the urge to maim the husband who had so recklessly broke the vow to protect her – to love her. She needed my restraint and I could offer it to her – not another display of bad temper by a man she had trusted. I hesitantly touched the bruises, wishing to erase them with kisses, to heal them with the adoration I would bestow upon her.

“I hurt him back.” Claire assured me, a look of shame crossing her face – as if I could pay witness to the degradations inflicted by both during their marriage. “He didn’t want me to leave. Frank said he still loves me.”

“Does he?” I asked with gentleness, battling the urge to ask her if she still loved him.

“I don’t know.” The tear track on her face glistened like a dry river, leaving thirst in its wake. “His love didn’t hurt like this, before.”

I wanted to ask her details on her failed marriage – her unhappiness was patent and unbearable – but restrained myself. She must have spent hours replaying the film of her derailed life, echoing words meant to harm – there was no cure to be found in saying them once more. I wished only to placate her pain – to take it all into myself, if I could. I longed to be the bringer of her smiles and not of her tears.

“I called ye.” I suddenly revealed, half embarrassed. “I waited too long – ye were gone by then. Maybe if I did…things would have been different.”

“Perhaps.” Claire agreed, haltingly. “But you were right – I shouldn’t have settled for less.”

I risked to brush her hair – silky and curly, so elementally Claire that took my breath away – and she closed her eyes in enjoyment of the intimate touch.

“What will ye do?” I asked, so afraid of the answer I could die. I wished for nothing more than to have her in my bed, lying so close to me as I memorized her, for the rest of my days. And yet I knew I had no guarantee of intimacy, of another conversation, of another touch – I savoured them all as a gift, for they were precious and not promised.

“I have to go back to Boston.” Claire explained, gripping my hand with strength. “I have a life there – a nursing job, medical school, friends and - .” She stopped, her eyes wide open.

Frank.” I swallowed hard, fighting against myself to offer her an encouraging smile. “Ye are still married to him.”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes, almost sobbing. I brought her hand closer to my mouth and kissed her knuckles.

“I won’t tell ye what to do – that is for ye to decide, mo nighean donn. But I need ye to know something, Claire.” I touched her chin with tenderness, urging her to open her eyes. “Ye alone hold all my heart – even before I knew yer name, ye meant light to me. I’ll wait for ye my whole live – and gladly so, even if it means that I’ll watch ye from afar, happy and fulfilled with another man, worthy of ye.”

“Jamie, I – “ Claire started, but I kissed her hand again and brought her against my chest, where my heart kept pounding, speaking enough to silence her.

“I’d rather ye dinna make promises ye may not wish to keep afterwards, when yer heart is less sore. When – if - ye mean them, I’ll be here.” I pleaded, staring into her eyes – she held my gaze for a while and nodded back. “Rest now, mo nighean donn. Let me watch over ye as ye sleep. Let me see ye safe.”

“I’m always safe with you.” She whispered.

I cherished her and held her hand until she fell asleep – finding new reasons to love her while she dreamt. She felt safe and protected with me – and, for that moment, it was enough.

Even when night came and we were left in complete darkness, I listened to her breathing, absorbing the symphony of the lover I craved. Once in a while I closed my eyes, making sure I could remember her perfectly – opening them again to correct a small detail, to drink another drop of her, afraid I would forget. Tormented I wouldn’t.

In the wee hours of night, I fought against sleep. I felt raw and tender, heart and body aching, calling me irresistibly to slumber.

I must have surrendered at some point. I had the vague recollection of a chaste kiss against my lips – timid, yet burning.

In the morning, she was gone.

I Don’t Love You Anymore (pt. 2)

You can find part 1 right here –> I Don’t Love You Anymore Pt. 1


I’m writing this note because I don’t have the balls to say this to your face. The reason I’ve been acting like a douche these past few weeks is because, well, at first, I thought it was just stress but, for awhile now, I haven’t felt anything with you. Each kiss, touch, laugh and word we shared has felt dead to me. I’m sorry y/n, I really am but I just don’t love you anymore. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me.


I read the painful words over and over again, each time praying that this is a sick and twisted drawn out April Fools joke he’s playing on me; maybe Mikey put him up to it. But as the minutes pass, I come to the bitter reality that he meant what he said, he doesn’t love me anymore. Is it really a surprise? I mean, all the signs were there. He stopped our morning and nighty-night cuddles, claimed he was sore from working out so much. No longer gave me his warm and soft pecks before he or I left work, it was always, “I really gotta go” or “Go, y/n your gonna be late.” He completely stopped all intimacy between us, and not just physically but mentally, he didn’t talk anymore, nor did he want to listen. So no, it’s not a surprise but it still hurts like hell. I get out the bed and walk over into the closest grabbing another shirt of his and placing it on his side of the bed as I snuggle up next to it and cry myself to sleep.


Six Weeks Later

I’m in the grocery store humming along to Tim McGraw’s “Shotgun Rider,” while debating if I want salmon or tilapia for dinner when a familiar and comforting voice behind me says, “You’ve always had a beautiful voice, it’s a shame that you never considered putting it to work.” I turn around and none other than Ashton Irwin is standing there giving me his award winning smile walking towards me. “Oh please,” I say dismissing the thought. “I’m serious, y/n, we could’ve used you in our band,” he admits as he gets closer. “Then you’d actually be five seconds of summer,” I joke as he laughs and his smile warms up my day. Gosh, I forgot how perfect he was. He looks good, his hair is cut nice, muscles seeping through his shirt.  “A picture lasts longer babe,” he smirks while finally coming face to face with me. I chuckle softly at his cockiness, “How have you been, Irwin?” I ask sincerely wanting to know how my best friend’s been the past few weeks with the stress of making an album. “Seems like I should be asking you that same question,” he says back and a seriousness falls upon us as I realize what he means. I clear my throat as a shift to the other foot, a little uncomfortable, “I-I’m good. I’ve been fine.” “Really?” he asks not buying it as he senses my whole attitude change. “Yeah I’ve been just focusing on school and wo–

I’m cut off by a sudden warmth that wraps around me and I realize that warmness is coming from Ash. Me and Ashton have always had a great relationship, sometimes I felt he understood me better than Calum, maybe it’s because he’s older. I could always have deep and intellectual conversations with him, something I could never do with Calum. We always understood each other; there were countless long nights of personal thoughts, feelings and blissful moments being shared over Chinese takeout or bowls of ice cream, especially the last weeks before Calum broke up with me.

One Week Before Breakup

“Ash, if I ask you a question, will you be completely honest with me?” I ask as I take a bite of my sesame chicken. “Of course, y/n, you know that. What’s up?” he asks and takes a long swig of his beer. I poke at my chicken, still wondering if I’m a bad girlfriend for even considering this thought, I mean I should trust my boyfriend right? I eat another piece of chicken as I take the beer out his hands and finish it making that my 4th one that night. “Okay, y/n, you only drink this much when we’re celebrating, which we’re not or if somethings really bothering you,” he says pausing the TV. I continue poking at my chicken and Ashton pulls the food off my lap and sets it on the bed side table as he makes me face him. “Y/n, talk to me, love,” he says softly as he lifts my chin forcing me to look in his eyes. “Do you–Is Calum seeing someone else?” I blurt out as tears begin to fill my eyes. The thought of Calum cheating didn’t seem real until I actually said it. “What?!” Ashton gasps, “Why would you think that?”

“Well, we’re growing really distant, ya know? He doesn’t  want to cuddle anymore, doesn’t want kiss or touch me, it takes so much for me just to get him to tell me how his day went, which is only a grumbled out, “fine.” And all that has got me thinking that maybe, there’s someone else,” I admit to him. I can see Ashton getting upset at hearing the way his best friend has been treating me. “I’ll talk him,” is all he says before he reaches his phone. “No! Ash, please don’t. Its only gonna create more problems between us, just stay out if it,” I desperately say as I snatch his phone out his hand. “Well, I’m not gonna let him treat you like shit and let him think its okay,” he snaps back at me reaching for his phone. “Ashton, you can’t talk to him about this!” I scream as I hop off his bed, “Why not Y/N?! What’s the big deal?” he asks. “Tell me Ashton, how would you feel if your girlfriend went talking to Luke, for instance, about problems she’s having with you?” I ask him. “I’d be pissed,” he says immediately. “Exactly,” I say back, “He can’t know I’ve been telling you these things. Especially now, he’s so irritable. Our relationship is at a fragile point and any sort of pressure will crash it,” I admit as I flop back on his bed. His face softens as he whispers, “Sorry, love I know–”

“Is it me?” I interrupt,  “Am I not pretty enough? Is it because I’m always talking about school and the future? Does that scare him? Am I too boring because I’d prefer to stay in than go out and party? Does he not want me?” I ask as the tears fill my eyes again and they freely fall down my face. “Hey, y/n listen to me,” Ashton says softly, “You are a beautiful woman. You are so intelligent, funny and talented. I mean what normal person, double majors in sociology and philosophy while minoring in Spanish and working two jobs, you’re frickin’ superwoman,” he exclaims making me laugh. “And oh my goodness, that gorgeous smile. Y/n you literally walk in a room and it lights up, you make everything brighter. And you know what else?” he asks wiping away the tears from my face. “You have the most beautiful soul. You have a such a great heart y/n, you’re so selfless, my goodness, I love you.” My eyes widen as I feel that he didn’t mean love as in best friends but love as in lovers. We stay like that for a while just staring into each other’s eyes and as each moment passes I realize which love he meant and I realize that maybe I too feel that way. Not once had Calum ever expressed his love for me in the words my best friend just had. “Ash, I-” “Shhh,” he says softly as he brings his hands to the sides of my face. “Ashton, we can’t,” I say bringing my hands to wrap around his “I know. But I can’t stop wondering how different it would all be if I’d seen you first,” he says. “Me too,” I admit. The moment is interrupted when the sound of footsteps snaps us from each other’s trance. We immediately sit on our respective sides of the bed and return to eating our food while watching FRIENDS as Mikey bursts in the room yelling, “I’m bored!”


We never got a chance to talk about that night seeing as I blamed our confessions of love on too much beer. We always get super mushy with another after a few beers, a reason why Calum never wanted me to drink alone with Ash. Then the next week Calum broke up with me via, sloppy written note and I’ve ignored and avoided all connections to him, including Ashton. However, my best friend who still loves me, is holding me and I finally relax in to him and for the first time in a while, I feel comfort, cared for, loved even, simply through his touch. He tightens his grip on me as I wrap my arms around his torso drinking in his scent and embracing the memories that I shared with him. Ashton has always been the only who could completely comfort me, its almost as if he peers into my soul, finds out what’s hurting and says the right things to heal me. I don’t know how long its been as we stand there enjoying one another presence, I mean I haven’t talked to him in six weeks, despite his constant tries. I sigh as a warming tingly feeling comes over me and I begin to grip on him tighter, almost craving him, which freaks me out as I realize that my best friend, who is also my ex-boyfriend’s best friend is making me feel weird things as I pull away. “I umm, I should go,” I say as I get ready to push my cart. “Y/n, wait,” he says as he softly grabs my arm, “Can we go grab a coffee?” he asks desperately with pleading eyes. “I don’t know about that Ash,” I say despite my mind saying yes. “Y/n, come on, it’s been six weeks. I miss my best friend,” he says. “You still have Mikey, Luke and uhm, Calum” I say looking down. “Yeah, but there’s someone special still missing,” he says as he lifts my chin up to look at him. “Ashton! What’s taking you so…bloody…long…” a voice that I never thought, nor wanted to hear again says. I watch with big eyes as the guy who tore my heart apart comes in to view. “H-hi y/n,” he says.

A/N: Hey beautifuls! I know I promised it would be posted Friday but it’s 11:39pm on the west coast :p and I live in the midwest so, I use both time zones interchangeably  /.\ Anyways, this is part 2, what do yall think? Its okay to message/ask me I promise I don’t bite…hard (was that too corny/played out?) Forreal tho, talk to me! 😊

I Don’t Love You Anymore Pt. 3

Project Partners - Taeyong

I know this isn’t superrrr great but I tried hard. I hope you like it, have a great day - Em x

Originally posted by nctinfo

Requests: Can you do a scenario teacher put you in a group with Taeyong who you have never talked before. You think he is a typical badboy but after being partners you see him in a new light? Thank you :)

 Genre: Fluff

 Word Count: 1836

“Everyone stand at the back instead of taking a seat. Today I’m setting a project and after last time there is no way you get to pick your own partners.” Your teacher said. Everyone groaned but you knew it was true. Half of last terms projects were laughable. You were still a bit disgruntled though, one of your best friends was in this class and you could have had so much fun together. You just hoped you got partnered with someone vaguely decent.

Your teacher began to list names of your classmates. She had managed to partner everyone with someone they barely knew.

“y/b/f and Yuta,” The teacher said handing them a project pack. “y/n and Taeyong,” she called out next. If you had been cheekier you would have protested at this. Taeyong was just some badboy in your year who chased after a different girl each week and didn’t bother with anything. That’s what everyone said.

Your friend shot you a sympathetic look before turning around and grinning at Yuta. She had had a crush on him for ages, he was nice and cute so she was lucky to have him for a partner.

You sat down at a desk next to Taeyong and gave him a quick, fake smile. The teacher walked up to the board and wrote the deadline, a week from now, in big letters.

“We have done many projects in the past but I thought we would do something a bit more interesting for you this time,” she announced. “In your pair, each of you will have to present about the other person and something you have learned from each other this week. This is another reason you can’t go with your friends. You may have the rest of the lesson to discuss with your partner.”

Your teacher pulled out her laptop and put headphones in. Your social science class wasn’t always the most educational fo your classes.

You turned to Taeyong.

“Um… hey so I’m y/n,” You said to him smiling as best you could. Taeyong raised his eyebrows and grinned.

“You’re a pretty girl,” He said to you with a wink. “I’m lucky in that regard,” You internally groaned. Was it humanly possible to work with him? This was one of the many questions you had. But you ignored him.

“What days are you free?” You asked him politely. But he didn’t reply he had gotten out his phone and was texting someone. You didn’t mind faking happiness but he could at least pay attention.

“Hey, Taeyong!” You said tapping him on the shoulder. He looked up at you, seemingly amused that you were still trying to work.

“I asked you what days you were free to work, that is if you’re not too busy beating people up or chasing after poor girls or whatever you do in your free time. I don’t really feel like doing the whole project myself but I mean with you has a partner what should have I expected.”

He looked surprised by your small outburst, it wasn’t immediately obvious but you could have sworn a flash of hurt ran across his face before his smirk regained its usual place. He was about to speak but the bell rang.

“Look you can do whatever, but if you want to help meet me in the library tomorrow after school,” you told him getting up. “But don’t worry, I’m not expecting you to show.”

The next day after the last bell rang you walked down to the library with your best friend.

“Yuta is so kind and he is really good at this project, I’m having so much fun,” she gushed her cheeks blushing red when she saw Yuta waiting for her in the library. Your eyes scanned the room but there was absolutely no sign of Taeyong. 

If he was gonna show there was no way he would be early. But then you felt a tap on your own shoulder. You looked around to see Taeyong grinning at you as he sat down.

“I’m here to work y/n,” he said saluting you. He was funny, you would give him that.

“Great,” you replied, smiling earnestly this time. “So then tell me about yourself, Taeyong Lee,”

“There isn’t much to say really, I’m seventeen and I like to have a good time,” He grinned, you did the opposite and frowned.

“Taeyong seriously?” you questioned. “My part of the report can’t be ‘yeah this is Taeyong and he likes to party,’ we would get an F, you idiot,”

Taeyong shrugged.

“Not everyone is what you want them to be. I’m an out of control badboy who gets into fights, drinks, smokes and chases after helpless girls. That’s what people say right.” He told you looking down at his desk.

You looked at him sceptically. You had a feeling that this wasn’t a whole truth. Just by showing up he had shown he was different to what people said. But that didn’t really say much. It wasn’t proof of character enough.

“Fine,” you said relenting. “I will tell you first. I’m y/n and one day I hope to achieve something that shows I can be great. I want to do well and make and impression on people,”

He interrupted you, “Babe you made an impression on me with just one glance,” You cracked a small smile.

“How do you get girls with such terrible lines, gosh Taeyong, is your secret you’re a wizard?” You asked him.

“Oh, yes y/n you see I’m the Asian harry potter,” he flicked his pencil forward at you as if casting a spell. “Makeus this girlus fallus in loveus with meus!” he shouted. The whole library turned around at his sudden cry. The librarian cast you both a look that would kill.

It was all so funny, Taeyong being so childish and the shocked looks of others you couldn’t help but laugh loudly.

“Already you’re proving everyone wrong about the badboy. You are such an idiot Taeyong. Wait…,” you stopped. “Is the humour how you reel the girls in?” you asked curiously. Because if it was it was working.

“Nope. That would ruin my image. The humour is just for you baby girl,” He wiggled his eyebrows. “The other girls can’t avoid being taken in by my beautiful face because my face is beautiful. But not as beautiful as yours.” Taeyong said with his classic smirk back.

“Why are you trying to reel me in then, if the other girls like you more easily?” You questioned.

Taeyong blushed slightly pink. You thought your eyes were playing tricks.

“Because those girls only want one thing from me, and me from them. But that’s not what I want from you. Well, not all I want anyway. I won’t tell a lie. You intrigue me y/n, which is why I think you should go on a date with me.” He said. He sounded confident but you could just about tell the nervousness in his voice.

“Tell you what Taeyong, if we get an A on the project we can go on a date, but that means you have to tell me about the actual Taeyong. You are more than a badboy I can see it,” You answered.

“Fair deal,” he agreed. “Well then… I’m Taeyong and I don’t enjoy getting into fights, I just can’t help it. I have a slightly short temper. I feel pressured to hold up a reputation I don’t even like and I don’t know why. I sleep with lots of girls because the one I always liked from afar can’t see through my façade and I never have the guts to talk to her which in turn makes me angrier and I beat up more people. I want to be a good person, I don’t even like drinking that much. In fact, my favourite thing to do is to sing.” He dropped his face into his hands.

“Ah I can’t do this y/n, I seem so dumb,”

“Nah that was the best thing that you have ever said,” you said happily.

“Can I hear you sing?” you asked later as you were walking home with him.

“Absolutely not. No way. Never gonna happen.” He said walking faster to get away from you.

You ran to catch up and grabbed his arm lightly, just enough to stop him.

“Please,” You asked grinning, “I will do anything if you sing. Just two lines that’s it. Please Taeyong?” you asked. Both of you had just spent two hours writing up one of the bets social science reports of all time.

“Anything?” he asked eyes widening. You nodded.

“Yeah pretty much.”

“Okayyyy fine.” He said and stopped walking. “This is so awkward, here goes nothing…

It’s too much, your red lips

Un Bel Viso, all of you

Makes me imagine an image of an angel

Only mine, you got to be mine

 His voice was so beautiful. He turned around shy.

“Omg Tae that was so great, if I could sing like you I would never stop singing!” you praised him.

He smiled brightly.

“Glad you liked it baby girl. But now you have to do that one thing for me.” He said. You nodded wondering what he would say.

“y/n,” he said seriously. “I want you to kiss me,” and he didn’t have to tell you twice. You took a step towards him. He eyes flickered briefly between your eyes and lips but almost as quickly they pressed together. Your lips caressing each other softly but passionately. It lit a fire inside you.

He pulled away after a few seconds and leant his forehead against yours.

“I really hoped I proved I was different. Because I realised it doesn’t matter if other don’t know who I am. But it does matter that you do.”

“Don’t worry, I think I have a clear idea. And I like this new Taeyong a lot.”

He was beyond sweet from that point on. That weekend you went on an ice cream date and fed ducks at the park. He was the opposite of your preconceptions.

So, the next week in class when it was your turn you felt confident. Taeyong started off with a nice little talk about how people were sweet and we needed to take chances to get to know them like he did with you.

“To conclude, before this I thought I knew who Taeyong was. But people aren’t always the way they present themselves or the way people say. Sometimes it’s just easier to act a certain way. Taeyong is one of the best people I have ever met and I only know that because he had to prove it to me. We should try and see beyond people’s outward attitudes.”

Taeyong gave you a hug and a warm smile.

“Lovely.” The teacher said calling up the next pair. In the end, she gave everyone an A but you knew it wasn’t a waste of time as you walked into lunch to sit next to your boyfriend Taeyong.

Rosemary: The Ship That Sank the Homestuck Fandom

As you may or may not know, I was recently accused of hating lesbians. Seeing as how I ship Johnrose pretty feverishly, I get this a lot. As in, every time I fucking post something on the tag. So I decided to pull up one of my old essays on the matter. I posted this some months ago on Omegaupdate under the name ‘Salty.’ Enjoy.

Long post incoming.

I think the main reason I dislike Rosemary is for what it did to the characters in terms of progression; or, in this case, the lack thereof. Homestuck post-A5 always suffered from a certain kind of stagnation, wherein neither the characters nor the author really knew what to do next. John, Jade, and Davesprite stagnated on the Prospit battleship; the Trolls, Rose, and Dave stagnated on the meteor. Both of these derived from a lack of initiative to use this time in any constructive manner, i.e, not deal with the literal garbage fire of issues that they all had looming over them. Sure, they talked about Lord English and Bec Noir… kinda. Sure, they had a few confrontations with each other… kinda, and all those confrontations had to do with romantic entanglements which I can guarantee most of the fandom didn’t particularly care for. They didn’t even really have an antagonist–Gamzee never fit that role well, and was hardly utilized in such a way that made him anything more than another forgotten character, like most of the other trolls.

Not only were these conflicts uninteresting, however, but they never went anywhere. Like the characters themselves, they stagnated, and any hope we had for them to be resolved was washed away in the actual shitstorm that was the Retcon. Everyone got a happy ending off-screen where nothing was solved; ‘show-don’t-tell’ is a good rule of thumb for a reason, even if Hussie was so fixated on ‘subverting’ typical tropes like an A+ pretentious asshat too big for his britches. Which, along with stagnation, is a good way to describe A6 and beyond: too big for its britches. It tried too do much and stretched our characters too thin. Instead of being about four kids playing a game and being assholes on the internet, it became a teenage soap opera designed to pander to it’s most vocal demographic. And that killed the comic.

Now, you may be asking 'but Salty, what does this have to do with why you dislike Rosemary so much? You’re just talking about the problems with the comic itself, not the relationship!’

Well, like almost everything in Homestuck, these all correlate pretty close together.

To simplify, we’ll start at the beginning: I think Rose Lalonde is the best character pre-A6. She had a level of depth and nuance to her personality that inevitably made her the most interesting character. We actually gave a shit about that happened to Rose. I mean, we gave a shit about all the kids at that time, but especially Rose. Her Grimdarkness? Coming to terms with the fact that her Mother wasn’t the monster she thought she was, and that she hadn’t had nearly enough time with her? Just watching the way she grew as a person? Act 5 and before, she’s honestly the reason I think the comic was so successful, or at the very least a large contributor. Her character helped tie the others together, especially Dave and John.

Then we get to Act 6, and Rosemary becomes canon.

All that development? Thrown out the window. Rose becomes a drunk, and it never gets resolved; Rose admits she was a terrible daughter, has tremendous guilt over the death of her mother, but who cares? Time to make her the comic relief! Her powers are never truly utilized again,nor her connection with the Horrorterrors: her personal growth is stagnated, her intellect and, quite frankly, most of her defining personality traits are cast haphazardly by the wayside. Her entire personality begins quite rapidly to revolve around two things: drinking and… Kanaya.

Kanaya, her badass, chainsaw wielding GF, who has her own character slowly “develop” into a full-on Mary Sue. Kanaya, the troll she had the most contact with, but they were never shown to have anything more than an established friendship between them. Hell, their trope was originally supposed to be one of moirailship.

Rosemary suffered, albeit in a far lesser sense, what Davekat suffers from: it came out of nowhere, and then never went anywhere after. Sure, they were friends, and sure, Kanaya admired her, but what about Vriska? What about John? What about her other friends, and the game she just lost her mind to? What about all this buildup to these other relationships that never went anywhere, and seemingly got dropped off the face of the paradox space? Are we to believe that Rose and Kanaya are really so callous as to forget the others even existed, going about their day-to-day in a sick mockery of 'second best?’ I wanted to see those story arcs come to something.

I wanted to see John and Rose bond over losing a parent. 

I wanted to see Kanaya finally help Vriska turn her life around, and Vriska help Kanaya become less meddlesome. 

These are problems that were never solved because of Rosemary.

Hussie wanted so desperately to appease his 'fans’ that he forgot about plot-lines; character arcs; relationships; story. He made Rose gay not because he wanted to make her gay, but because he backed into a corner and gave into the mouth-frothing rabidness of his following. He didn’t know what to do with her. This would be the first time Hussie changed his script, but would not be the last. This is the first step, as I see it, into the downfall of the comic; it’s maddening descent into stagnation and Hussie’s continued reluctance to finish the story the way he wanted, to the point where he handed the comic over to 'funny twitter man’ Cohen because he just couldn’t deal with it anymore. 

Honestly, I can hardly blame him.

Do I have a problem with Rose, or any other Homestuck character for that matter, being gay? Of course I don’t. In fact, I would have loved it! I crave positive homosexual representation in the media. But for the love of god, what I didn’t want was forced, stagnated homosexuality just for the sake of having it. As a bisexual myself, I honestly found it insulting – are we really that easily pandered to, that easily placated? Is our community so obsessed with this backwards idea of 'representation’ that we don’t even care for it to be portrayed in a decent manner? Are we so desperate and shallow that we’ll scramble towards the most lackluster, half-assed content and call it genius just because it has two people of the same gender kissing? Others might – fuck, I know others will and have – but frankly, I like to think I have higher standards than the bottom of the barrel. No artist, no writer should ever have to jeopardize the integrity of their story in order to appease the arbitrary wills of some vocal group of fans who, frankly, don’t know jack-all about romance. 

Their story is their own; people read them because of what they wrote, not because of what others wanted, which is a lesson that Hussie seemed to unlearn post-A5 – hell, maybe even post-Problem Sleuth.

I honestly attribute this to the massive decline in Homestuck readers overall. This kind of pandering, along with the stagnation that followed, and, of course, the frequent pauses, turned off at least 75% of the readers by the end of the comic, and that estimate is generous at best. A7 didn’t even reach one million views. 2011 through 2013, you couldn’t even go on the internet without seeing something Homestuck related pop up out of nowhere. /hsg/ got banned on 4chan, something that hadn’t happened since the rise of /mlp/. Tumblr was constantly pumping out new content that stretch as far and wide as Homestuck itself. The subreddit was at an all-time high. Homestuck and it’s huge fan projects dominated the internet like no other piece of media had done before.

And then people couldn’t deal with it anymore, so they left. The fanfic writers, the artists, the theorists… almost all gone, with only a handful of good content creators still around to fill an ever-growing hole.

And guess what?

It all started with Rosemary.

Just Business

Honestly, I’m so freaked the fuck out to be even talking about this. I’m scared he’s going to come back. But I can’t shut up about it. My dad might be able to accept this as what it is, but I refuse, given what’s going to happen to me no matter what I do.

I work at my dad’s diner on a busy stretch of road. However, since my grandfather’s death, and with him the loss of the secret recipe for his famous meatloaf, business has taken a nose dive. Funeral costs had my dad considering bankruptcy, much to my gran’s horror. She and granddad build this place up from the foundation. People would pass by and come in from everywhere, and everyone, no matter what you looked like or who you were holding hands with, was welcome.

It was Wednesday when the black cars pulled up to the diner.

Keep reading

Whiskey Lullaby

Word Count: 1,912
Reader Gender: I don’t think I specified one
Warnings: Reader death, alcohol poisoning.
Love Interest: Dean (SPN)
Note: I’ve been writing this on the side for like a week now, and since I just finished it, I decided to post it c: This is based on the song by Brad Paisley and Alison Krauss. I think I dragged out the last half a little too much, but I hope you guys like it! Also, I’m sorry my posts have been so slow. I’ll try to post more c:

It had been quite a while since Dean and I parted ways, both for our separate reasons. Well, in reality it was one collective reason, but I’m sure you’ll get a different story if you ask him. He cheated on me, more than once might I add. The last time he did it, I couldn’t take it anymore, my heart couldn’t take it anymore. So I left, and I didn’t bother with getting my things. They didn’t matter, nothing did anymore. I haven’t been the same since, and I’ve taken to alcohol more and more as the days go by. I love him more than I love myself, but it’s been years and I’m sure he’s changed his number by now.

Nowadays I drink it away with whiskey, and then I end up crying next to a picture of him when I get to my motel room. Dean and I were in the same business, and I was in it before I even met him. That was partly why our relationship had worked out so well in the beginning. Then I found him with another woman, and while he promised not to do it again, he would let me down. I wouldn’t have been driving over to his motel room if it wasn’t for my current case. Whatever I was chasing was after him, and it was powerful. This creature had a rep for killing people, and making it look like a suicide.

She put him out, like the burnin’ end of a midnight cigarette.
She broke his heart, he spent his whole life trying to forget.
We watched him drink his pain away, a little at a time.
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind,
Until the night.

While I know that Dean probably already has a handle on this case, I still worry for him. I didn’t want him to die, and if I got to him before this thing did, everything will be alright. I’ve already injured it pretty badly, and in my book it should be dead already. The creature was black and smoky, but thankfully my weapon collection is pretty big, and I usually always have something to use. After reading about it, I found that it’s weakest point is where it’s the smokiest and the darkest. So, that’s where I struck it, and I don’t give it long to live. However, it could live long enough to have one more victim.

He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger,
And finally drank away her memory.
Life is short, but this time it was bigger
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees.

That wasn’t happening on my damn watch, and I’d drag it back to Hell myself if I had to first. I pulled into the parking lot of the motel, parking my car in the first available spot I came across. I quickly got out of my car and jogged up to his door, my heart pounding from pure fear. Cas told me where they were, but I feared he wasn’t able to get there in time. I knocked on the door at first, hoping that he’d just answer or tell me to come in. After a moment of silence, I knocked again, and when he didn’t answer I entered the room myself. As soon as I opened the door, the smell of alcohol hit me like a brick.

“Dean?” I questioned, looking around for a moment.

We found him with his face down in the pillow,
With a note that said I’ll love her till I die.
And when we buried him beneath the willow,
The angels sang a whiskey lullaby.

As soon as I saw his body, I screamed at the sight. He was laying lifeless on the bed, bottles of alcohol surrounding him. Normally, this wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary, but I knew him and he never drank alcohol with this proof in mass quantities. He wanted to be drunk, not dead, and there was a fine line. I quickly ran over to him, shaking his body in hopes that he would wake up. There was a little bit of foam coming from his mouth, making me cry even harder than I was. My heart wasn’t ready for this sight, and it never would be. I shook him harder, knowing that whatever I did wouldn’t work. He was gone, unless I could do something about it.

“He is dead, there is nothing you can do.” I heard a monotone voice say.

“Yes there is.” I shot back in a hard tone.

Guilt started flooding my mind as my hand gently caressed his face. The tears never stopped flowing freely from my eyes, and I doubt they ever would. Just like how my guilt would never stop pouring into my mind, haunting me. This is my fault, all of it is my fault. I should’ve warned him sooner, or killed the creature earlier. I should have done something sooner, and maybe he would still be alive right now. No, not maybe, he would still be alive right now. My forehead rested on his chest, tears staining his shirt. He can’t be dead, not now, not ever. He was too important, not just to the world, but he was too important to me.

I slowly pulled myself off of him, my own emotions slowing down my actions. I went back up to his face, my thumb gently gliding across his cheek. I took a shaky breath, the weight against my chest feeling heavier than ever. I heard Cas finally leave the room, and I knew exactly what I had to do. I looked over to the floor, seeing the creature in a slightly more humanoid form. My gaze shifted back over to the one who still held my heart; Dean. My lips bushed against his cheek, and I tightly shut my eyes. The tears still fell, and how tightly I shut my eyes didn’t matter. It seemed as if nothing did anymore.

The rumours flew, but nobody knew how much she blamed herself.
For years and years, she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath.
She finally drank the pain away, a little at a time,
But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind.
Until the night.

I took a deep breath as I tore myself away from him, looking down at him. I heard the creature chuckle lowly from the floor, taunting me. I took off the necklace he gave me when we were together, giving it a kiss before placing it in the palm of his hand. I wrote a note on the pad that was on the night stand, simply telling him that I loved him. My heart ached with each stroke of the pen, it felt as if my world was coming down on me. I took another breath as I set the pen back on the wooden stand, moving over to were the creature was laying. I bent down to its level, noticing black goo slowly leave its figure.

“You son of a bitch, you bring him back.” I demanded.

“And why would I do that?” The creature asked in an amused tone.

“Because I fucking said so.” I spoke dangerously.

“Sorry, sweetheart, that doesn’t work for me. Sweeten the deal.” The creature demanded.

“How about the satisfaction of watching me die the same way he did.” I offered.

“Hm, I like it, but you gotta give me just a little bit more.” It said, and I swore I could’ve seen a grin.

“What more could you possibly want?” I questioned, my voice breaking.

“Share your memories with me. All of them. It gets boring after a few hundred years, you know,” It spoke in a strained voice, “It’ll give me something to look back on when I get sent back to Hell.”

“Done.” I immediately said and he chuckled.

“I guess we have a deal, Sweetheart.” It said.

I felt something enter my head and pain spread through out my entire body. It was as if he was twisting my brain around, as if the thing was dissecting it. In a way, I suppose he was, how else was he able to do what he did? As the pain left my mind, a sudden and uncontrollable urge was now in it’s place. I had an urge to drink and drink until I couldn’t drink anymore. I had an urge to drink myself to death. I grabbed one of the untouched bottles that was nearby, downing it as fast as I could. I slowly felt a migraine enter my mind as I went for another bottle, downing that one as well before I could even react to the headache.

She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger,
And finally drank away his memory.
Life is short but this time it was bigger,
Than the strength she had to get up off her knees.
We found her with her face down in the pillow,
Clinging to his picture for dear life.
We laid her next to him beneath the willow,
While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby.

As I grabbed a third bottle, nausea travelled down to my stomach. It wasn’t enough to make me vomit up the contents of my stomach, and that was probably the creatures doing. My vision began to blur as the clear liquid burned my throat. It was an oddly comforting burn, like a promise of relief. Memories of Dean and I blurred through my mind, and I felt a tear escape from my eye. I wish I could tell him how sorry I was, I wish I could just talk to him one last time. The weight on my chest got a bit heavier, making it just that much harder to breathe properly. I felt myself grow weaker, as I grabbed a bottle that was only half-full.

I brought the bottle to my lips, only to fall back onto the bed. A little bit of the drink spilled onto the sheets around me, but I couldn’t’ve cared less about it. The clear liquid rushed into my mouth and down my throat, making me choke a little bit. When I finished the bottle, my arm went limp beside me. I heard someone stirring, and I smiled as I realized that it was Dean. He was alive, and he was going to be alright. I turned my head to look at the creature, only to see a puddle of black ooze in it’s place. A little bit of the weight left my chest as I realized that it was now dead. Nobody else was going to die because of that thing, I was going to be the last.

I didn’t know if he was awake or not, but I can die peacefully knowing that the creature kept his word. Exhaustion clouded my brain, my eyes feeling heavy. I slowly closed my eyes, feeling weaker with ever second that passed by. I was weak, but I was happy; something I haven’t felt in a long while. Darkness completely covered my vision, and I felt the life I had in my veins leave me. I didn’t see a light, or anything like that. Just darkness, but it was a comforting darkness.

A darkness that took the rest of the life I had left in me.


That Thing We Call a Heart by Sheba Karim

Shabnam Qureshi is a funny, imaginative Pakistani-American teen attending a tony private school in suburban New Jersey. When her feisty best friend, Farah, starts wearing the headscarf without even consulting her, it begins to unravel their friendship. After hooking up with the most racist boy in school and telling a huge lie about a tragedy that happened to her family during the Partition of India in 1947, Shabnam is ready for high school to end. She faces a summer of boredom and regret, but she has a plan: Get through the summer. Get to college. Don’t look back. Begin anew.

Everything changes when she meets Jamie, who scores her a job at his aunt’s pie shack, and meets her there every afternoon. Shabnam begins to see Jamie and herself like the rose and the nightingale of classic Urdu poetry, which, according to her father, is the ultimate language of desire. Jamie finds Shabnam fascinating—her curls, her culture, her awkwardness. Shabnam finds herself falling in love, but Farah finds Jamie worrying.

With Farah’s help, Shabnam uncovers the truth about Jamie, about herself, and what really happened during Partition. As she rebuilds her friendship with Farah and grows closer to her parents, Shabnam learns powerful lessons about the importance of love, in all of its forms.

Featuring complex, Muslim-American characters who defy conventional stereotypes and set against a backdrop of Radiohead’s music and the evocative metaphors of Urdu poetry, THAT THING WE CALL A HEART is a honest, moving story of a young woman’s explorations of first love, sexuality, desire, self-worth, her relationship with her parents, the value of friendship, and what it means to be true.

Disclaimer: I received a free copy via Edelweiss for review purposes.

Shabnam is a Pakistani-American teen, just finishing up high school when her friendship with her feisty BFF Farah begins to unravel when Farah starts to wear a headscarf without consulting Shabnam. Shabnam starts to make some kind of bad decisions - from kissing the most racist boy in school to telling a huge lie about her family and the partition of India. The end of her school year is really starting to suck; but now Shabnam needs to get through the summer before college. Things start looking up when she meets the charming and romantic Jamie who gets her a job at his Aunt’s pie shack for the summer. Shabnam starts discovering her first love, Urdu poetry, and begins to repair her friendship with Farah - and with Farah’s help, Shabnam discovers the truth about Jamie, and in turn, learns about the important of friendship and love in all it’s forms.

I really loved That Thing We Call A Heart. It deals with so many issues but it’s done so seamlessly. It’s about love and friendship, heartbreak, family, Urdu poetry, and forgotten history. Not to mention the characters are so well developed. I loved our protagonist Shabnam, and I especially loved Farah - our badass, hijab wearing, feminist BFF.

Whilst romance is pretty big chunk of the book,That Thing We Call A Heartis definitely a book that explores love between friends and family. I loved her friendship with Farah. At times, Shabnam is a bad friend - she’s selfish, and not exactly a good listener. When her best friend Farah starts wearing a headscarf, Shabnam is not exactly understanding; subconsciously, she starts to distance herself from Farah. I absoloutely adored Farah - she’s empowering, feminist, funny, feisty and I would absolutely read a book dedicated solely to her. Thankfully, as the book progresses, Shabnam develops and repairs her relationship with Farah and realises how selfish she was being.

Additionally, I adored her relationship with her parents. I loved her affectionate and caring mother, and I even enjoyed her passionate, yet lazy, father. I especially loved how Shabnam and her father connected over their love of Urdu poetry - it was definitely a lovely addition. I’m a sucker for loving and supporting familial relationships so this book is everything I look for in contemporary YA.

And last but not least, there’s lots of talk of what it’s like to be a contemporary Muslim girl, defying conventional stereotypes, what’s it’s like to be a hijab-wearing Muslim girl and how that doesn’t necessarily = good Muslim girl.

“I’m too Muslim for the non-Muslims, but not Muslim enough for the Muslims. And the weird thing is, I realized I’ve been trying to prove to people that I’m cool, that yeah, I don’t drink and whatever but I’m smart and funny and extremely un-oppressed, but I wonder, at the end of the day, will they secretly think a girl in hijab can never be that cool simply because she wears hijab? But then I think, why does it matter what they think of me? I refuse to spend my life proving myself, not to the Muslims, not to the non-Muslims. I’m going to wear a headscarf and I’m going to pray and fast and I’m going to smoke ganja and I’m going to get into Harvard Medical School.”

There’s also discussions on the Partition of India and the Bosnian Genocide, two often forgotten parts of history.

This book is a real gem. It tackles so many important relevant issues and I think it’s messages about love and identity will resonate with a lot of readers.

Rating: ★★★★★

Change - Part 1 (Caspian x Reader)

Part 2

Word Count: 1215

Warning: None.

Request: Yes.

Summary: Y/N is lost girl in the search of her past who came across Caspian in the middle of forest. Soon she developed feeling for this gentleman but not everyone gets what they want. And Y/N didn’t get the love she wanted. Time has passed and they were in a search of the Lone Islands and soon enough two Pevensies visited them.

The Story:

“Alright, if that’s all, I’m gonna got get some air.” Y/N said as she left the discussion from Caspian’s cabin.

She walked to the deck of the ship. The sea always managed to calm her down. During times of war and stress, she always found a way to go the sea shore and sit in the quiet and peaceful weather.

She sighed and closed her eyes.

Everything is gonna be fine.

She opened her eyes and untied her hair, allowing it to blow in the wind.

“Still didn’t notice me m'lady?”

Y/N looked beside her, and Caspian was stood beside her, leaning over the railing.

“M'lady? Not that honorable. I’m just a lost girl.” She said.

“Every lady deserves respect. And you…you remained my friend since the first time I met Peter.”

Friend. Only friend. “Yeaahhh…I remember that. I wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place.” Y/N sighed.

“I suppose it’s destiny.”

“You believe in that? I still don’t know what I was destined to be.”

“Ofcourse I do. You’re still looking for answers..aren’t you?”

“I never stopped Caspian. You wouldn’t really feel nice to wake up oneday in the middle of the woods with two men fighting with their swords. I don’t remember anything at all. What if I don’t belong here?”

Caspian looked at her, glancing down at her hand on the railing. He slowly put his hand on hers, and said “You will know. You just have to wait for the perfect time.”

She looked at him, smiling. The smile she always kept on her face, inspite of all the problems. “Have been waiting for years now.”

“Don’t lose hope.”

“I’m not. That’s what keeps me going. That’s what keeps me smiling. That’s why I’m still around you.”

Caspian smiled, “And you’re what keeps me motivated. Your will to find answers, how you never give up. I thought…I thought after she was gone, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate and keep my word as a-a King. It-It would be a shame for…someone like me you know.”

Susan. Y/N knew when he talked about her. How dreamy his eyes became, how passionately he talked about her. She wished it was her he was talking about. But, that cannot happen. How could a king like a girl like her? She herself found it amusing only by thinking about it.

Just then the water around the ship started getting a bit violent.

“What’s happening?” Caspian asked alarmed.

“I don’t know, the weather seemed calm and perfectly fine!”

“What-What is happening?!”

“There’s a possibility of that..” Y/N said holding the railings of the ship tight, “ I think….it’s time that the Pevensie’s are here. Aslan did tell us they will come back right?” Y/N said as she went back stumbling, to give orders for the necessary steps required for picking them up. Soon Edmund and Lucy were on board. All three shook hands and clapped one another on the back with great delight. They approached to Y/N, putting forward their hands for a handshake.

“Oh stop all these formalities.” She said as she hugged both of them.

But after a while, the peaceful encounters didn’t really last long. She noticed that along with them, there was also a certain annoying kid. If he wasn’t Edmund’s cousin, Eustace would’ve been killed by now. He was crying much harder than any boy of his age cried, and yelled out, “Let me go. Let me go back. I don’t like it.”

“Let you go?” said Caspian. “But where?”

Eustace rushed to the ship’s side, he was promptly sick.

Y/N sighed and said, “Someone please help this gentleman over here. He seems sick, physically and mentally.”

Edmund and Lucy chuckled at that while Caspian furrowed his eyebrows and said, “That’s not how you should welcome guests.”

“I know. Sorry, I’ll look after their hospitality. Hey! Rynelf,” said Y/N to one of the sailors. “Bring spiced wine for their Majesties. You’ll need something to warm yourselves after that dip.”

As he brought them all the food, they started talking to each other. They explained everything about the Lone Islands to the Pevensies and soon enough, the talk turned to their lives.

“So…Y/N, did you find anything about your..” Edmund said, finishing off his drink.

“Past? No. Not lucky enough.”

“Oh..” He said, “And Caspian, what about you? Did you find anyone…ACHOOO!”

Lucy sneezed next. Y/N was glad that the conversation got over quickly. She wouldn’t be able to bear him say all that over again.

“What a fool I am to keep you all standing here in your wet things,” said Caspian. “Come on below and get changed. I’ll give you up my cabin of course, Edmund, and Y/N, you may show your cabin to Lucy. Lead the way.”

Y/N led Lucy to her cabin, giving her a tour of the ship in the way.

“Well, things between you two doesn’t look too bad.” Lucy stated.

“I know what you’re trying to say but I don’t think that’s gonna happen.” Y/N said.

They walked in a pleasant cabin. It was big enough for the two of them. Not too clean, not too dirty either— few clothes kept on a chair, paintings hung to dry up, some pages hapazardly lying on the bed. Lucy looked around the place and sat down on the bed, turning the pages to look at it.

“You are still writing about all this?”

“Yes. Oneday it’s gonna be read by someone hopefully, ofcourse when I’m finished. When someone will come to seek for answers, this will help a little.”

“Then I expect you still have a diary.”

“Yes. It helps me during my stress.” Y/N said finally picking out an outfit for Lucy.

Lucy got up and took the outfit from her, “And has the contents changed from what I’ve seen before?”

Y/N just laughed and sighed. “Well, this is a boy’s outfit.” Lucy said looking at the clothes.

“Yes. I brought boyish clothes. I don’t think I can jump around wearing those dresses. Deal with it.” She said and left the cabin.

Y/N waited outside and after a while Lucy came out.

“This is comfortable.” She said, smiling.

“I know. It’s Caspian’s.”


“Uhhh…no not like that. I mean I stitched it up for myself back then. Apparently it’s not lady-like but you know what kind of a brat I am. I do what I want.” Y/N laughed walking up to the deck.

Lucy giggled, “If you say so.”

Caspian and Edmund were catching up with each other. They turned towards the girls and Edmund said, “What are you wearing Lucy?”

Caspian sighed and said, “Ofcourse. I should have know what you’re gonna give her.”

“She’s not complaining. She said it was comfortable.” Y/N defended herself.

“Yes it is.” Lucy said.

They sat talking with each other while Y/N gave orders of their lunch.

“You should find someone else Caspian.”

“I know, but I have eyes only for one lady. And it will not change.”

“Change is not always bad.”

Y/N heard their conversation and she decided not to get in. It was worse that Susan was their sister and there’s no point in hating her. But envying her? Perhaps.

“Isn’t it Y/N?” Lucy asked.

“What? I’m sorry I zoned out. You know what guys, I’m gonna take a break now. I have some work to do. Sorry for being rude and all. I know guests should be treated properly but you know what I mean. Sorry.”

“Are you gonna write again?” Lucy asked curiously.

Y/N smiled and said before leaving, “That’s one thing that I can say is mine alone.”

A/N - Part 2 is coming up! Will be late though. My father will lock the laptop and keep it with himself so its hard for me to update. Since it’s the last year of my school and the most crucial year of my life, he doesn’t let me spend much time here. And I do understand because this result will get me going for my career in the future, it’s really important for me. Although I’m shitting my pants just by seeing the syllabus. So yeah, that’s it. I will take a lot of time to update.


Ever Have I? Never.

Several someones told me to write NnT fic, so I went ahead and wrote some NnT fic. There is a significant shortage of pre-exile Holy Knight Seven Deadly Sins (a.k.a. pre-pie era) in canon and in fandom; here’s my minor contribution toward fixing that.

“Uh-huh, like you’ve ever done anything valuable.”

“And which one of you two has any incredible accomplishments to their name? Don’t tell me the old fart over there is king of the fairy tale clubhouse or something ♪.”

“Don’t aim your underhanded snark at Diane just because she’s right, Ban.”

“Hey Kiiing, I’ve told you where to stuff it before, haaven’t I?”

Meliodas sighed internally. And externally, too.

Keep reading

Every Rose Has its Thorn (G Dragon drama)

Synopsis: Kwon Ji Yong. Better known as the one and only G Dragon. Party boy and superstar. As he becomes best friends with his stylist, Victoria, their best friend relationship soon turns into friends with benefits, and Ji Yong does everything he can to keep it a secret. This would mean seeing other people. But once Victoria’s first love and many other obstacles come into the picture, Ji Yong begins to feel like this relationship should be kept exclusive.

Rated: Yes

Every Rose Has it’s Thorn:

Club Night:

        Victoria was never one to be easy. But by little by little he dirtied her. She wondered if things would have happened the same way if she had known his identity that night, the night she met him. The lights were dim, the music was loud, the alcohol was flowing through everyone’s veins, and her mind was lost. And he was there.

         “I’m not even joking, my aunt got me this.” Victoria showed the diamond necklace to Sungah through web cam.

               "Whoa, how much did that cost?“ Sungah asked, sitting on Ryeowook’s bed.

               "I have no idea, but isn’t it awesome?” Victoria grinned. “You can send me my gift when I get myself over there. It takes forever to get across an entire ocean.”

               "I promise, I’ll go shopping for you tomorrow.“ Sungah poked her screen. "You’re on the plane now?”

               "Yeah. You wouldn’t believe how much stuff I had to get shipped over there before getting on this plane.“ Victoria took a sip of her drink. "I’ve been in this seat for ten hours straight, and I am dead.”

               "You can’t die yet, you have a job to do when you get here.“ Sungah laughed, holding one of Ryeowook’s pillows.

               "Oh yeah, you’re right.” Victoria rubbed the side of her head, shutting her eyes. “I’m going to have to deal with five men that Korea likes to call, Big Bang.”

               "So pretty soon you’ll officially be G Dragon’s stylist. You just have to survive the rest of the way here.“

               "Yeah. Wish me luck.”

       There was a time when she was innocent, a time where she wouldn’t have even attempted to do the things she had done with him, or have the confidence she had when she was with him. But that changed when she met him. Him. Kwon Ji Yong.

               "Missy, I literally just got here, I’m incredibly jet lagged, I don’t even like clubs!“ Victoria crashed on her new bed in the two bedroom apartment she’d now be sharing with her friend (and now co-worker), Missy.

               "Come on, I don’t wanna go pick up cute guys all alone.” Missy whined, sitting next to her.

       Missy was a pretty baby face with long platinum blonde hair, who just looked so good like apple pie. But she was not act how she appeared to be, which was obvious since she was well known back in Phoenix.

              “Is that all you’ve been doing the entire four months you’ve been here?” Victoria took out her pony tail, letting her bright cherry red hair fall past her shoulders.        

               "No.“ Missy mumbled to herself. "I work too.”

               Victoria raised an eyebrow at her. “You didn’t sleep with all the CEO’s again did you?”

               "Of course not!“ Missy lied terribly. "You’re so quick to judge me.”

               Victoria was too tired to care, and just buried her face in her pillow. “Just go clubbing by yourself. I wasn’t interested in Phoenix and I’m not any more interested here.”

               "Come on.“ Missy shook Victoria’s shoulders. "Please, please, please, please, please! It’ll be fun!”

       Victoria didn’t fight her off but she did want sleep, and Missy obviously wasn’t going to let her get that.

               "Go. Away.“ Victoria’s voice was muffled by the pillow.

               "Victoria Light, if you don’t come with me right now then I’m telling your parents you had sex with your boss in order to get the job offer to come over here.”

               Victoria shot her head up at her threat. “That was you not me!”


               Victoria clenched her jaw and got up from the bed. "I hate you.”

               "You’ll get over it.“

               "Keep dreaming.”

       Missy was sporting a small, skin tight, and single strapped blue dress, while Victoria just wore a simple long sleeved but black dress, that was short at the legs and hugged her body in all the right places.

       Going out to clubs and drinking was never Victoria’s thing. She didn’t absolutely hate it per say, it was just something she didn’t feel the need to do often. It was something that she would do with Missy maybe once a year, which didn’t stop Missy from going every week or more.

        Victoria could hear the music blaring as she stood in line. It was freezing outside, but she was close to the front of the line already. She wrapped her arms around herself as she moved forward, and once she’s in, her eyes have to adjust to the sudden darkness. There are multicolored flashing lights on the dance floor, but they are not bright enough to reach beyond that. It was very crowded that night.

       As she made her way to the bar, dancing sweaty bodies pressed and rubbed up against her. She could feel their eyes on her and Missy as they passed. She always felt a little out of place at places like these, but thanks to Missy, she would just have to go with it. After a drink or two, Missy wandered off with some rich guy sitting next to them, Victoria not wanting to go too deep into thought on what they would be doing at the back of the building.

       Great, now I’m all alone. She thought about texting Sungah but she didn’t know what to say. Should she ask her to pick her up, come join her there for company (since obviously Missy was occupied at the moment), or just text her for the sake of not looking like a complete loner? She was now completely over tired, not feeling the need to sleep anymore. She decided to take her Missy frustration out by downing more and more drinks to the point where she was off her ass drunk.

       In a matter of minutes, she was sweating on the dance floor, but it felt so good. Her body moved to the rhythm of the music, which contained mostly of dubstep remixes and rap. Someone, a guy, who was just as drunk as she was, was watching her. He pushed past the few people that were in his way, making his move towards her.

       He came up behind her and gently put his hands on her hips, pulling her close so she could move smoothly against him. She just went with it, her mind to clouded by alcohol to care about who he was. She grinded against his front, her body like a soft wave against his. He turned her around so he could see what he could of her pretty face, one of the red lights up above really putting emphasis of color to her hair.

       His hands traveled to her butt, something Victoria would’ve minded a little more if she were sober, especially when his lips touched her sensitive neck. She put one arm around his shoulders while the other softly stroked his short-platinum blonde hair. His lips traveled up her neck to her jaw, making their sweet way to her ear.

               "Let’s get out of here.“ He purred into her ear. She was very more than willing to, just for tonight.

       She left with him, not caring about Missy. She’ll probably be home the next morning or maybe not. Those were problems that made them being roommates back in America not work out. They hitched a taxi, bringing them back to her apartment. During the ride there, his hand touched up her thigh, while his other hand played with her hair.

               "You look familiar.” She looked at him with lust filled eyes.

               "I think names can be saved for now.“ He whispered into her ear. She couldn’t help but feel like his voice was a little familiar, like she had definitely heard it before. "Tonight, I’m just some guy.”

               Victoria giggled as she bit her lip. “I’m okay with that.”

       They both rushed into her apartment, not wanting to waste any more time then they already had. Kissing him feverishly as soon as they shut the front door, her hands explored his body gently. Touching his arms, shoulders, chest, back, neck, not leaving a speck untouched. His hands were wandering too. From her shoulders, to her waist, then her butt.

The kiss began to get a little more heated as he breathed harder and used more and more of his talented tongue. The slick muscle was so wet and dominate.

Her fingers ran through his hair and they both knew exactly where to go next. They walked, still locking lips, into her bedroom. Once they were standing by the bed, he shoved her onto the bed, climbing right on top of her He kissed her again, so passionately, using his tongue to explore every inch of her mouth. And damn was he a good kisser! She quickly sat up to unzip her dress, which he gladly helped pull off, throwing it elsewhere, revealing pale smooth skin. As the stranger’s hands slowly glided up her body, she couldn’t help but get goosebumps, shuddering at his at his touch.

               "You’re so sensitive.“ The handsome stranger smirked, his lips brushing against hers. "I like it.”

               "Maybe it’s just you.“

               "Maybe it’s just me.” He mimicked before locking lips with her again.

       Neither could take it anymore, so they both sat up and worked together to remove his button up plaid shirt, following his jeans. It wasn’t long until they were bare naked with their hearts pounding against each other.

               "I really need this.“ He whispered into her neck, breathing heavily as he lifted her leg, putting it around him. His hand stroked her smooth thigh, and she could feel his hard length against her, making her skin heat up, making her heart beat faster.

               "I can feel your heart.” He purred, pushing his chest against her own. “Do you feel mine?”

       After one last kiss, he wasted no more time pushing himself inside her, making her feel so warm inside. Keeping his hand on her thigh, he kept her leg up against him as he gradually quickened his pace in and out. With each thrust, their breathing became quicker and heavier.

               "You’re so beautiful.“ He panted, his grip on her thigh tightening.

       He began groaning and moaning, enjoying this like it was the last time we would get this chance.

       With all her strength, she reached up slightly to give him one more kiss as they lost themselves in the steaming moment. The faster he went, hitting that right spot, the closer they both got. Their moans got louder, his groans getting more fierce.

       They had climaxed simultaneously, her nails digging into his shoulders, making him hiss into his orgasm. His tight grip on her thigh will most likely leave bruises. A reminder of his fingers, pressing into her skin because of their sudden encounter. He collapsed next to her, breathing heavily, along with her. He was sweating, and his heart was racing. As he gathered himself, savoring each and every moment he was sharing with this lovely stranger, she also caught her breath.

       He would most likely be gone in the morning, as if it never happened. She’ll never see him, this stranger, again. This had to be the number one reason of why she hated going to clubs.


       Victoria woke the next morning to the other side of the bed empty, which she sadly expected. She didn’t even get a name from him, not like he wanted to tell her anyway. She could barely remember his face, but she did remember what he made her feel that night. It was like heaven.

       Her hair was a mess, and her body was slightly sore. Her body was cover with her bed sheet, that wasn’t there the night before. Had he put it there? If that was the case, it was rather sweet. Too bad she won’t be seeing him again.

       Rubbing her tired eyes, she looked to her left to see her phone sitting on her end table. Picking it up, she looked at the time to see that her alarm had been shut off, and she was late for her first day at the company!

               "Oh god!” Victoria smacked herself on the head, sprinting out of bed and getting ready as fast as she could. She only had time to throw on the dress she wore the night before, since it was the closest in reach. Missy wasn’t there. She was going to kill her when she meets her at the YG building, no doubt.

       She straight up jumped into a taxi, begging for him to go as fast as he could. She didn’t care if she overpaid him when she got out because she had no time to care about that. She sprinted to the door and inside, trying to find the right room she needed to be in. She found Yang Hyun-Suk’s office and accidently slammed herself into the closed door because she was running so fast. She brushed it off and opened the door, walking inside as she caught her breath.

               "It’s about time you showed up.“ Yang Hyun-Suk laughed a little at his desk. "Rough morning?”

               "A little bit.“ Victoria replied, still trying to return her breathing to a normal pace.

       Victoria saw his secretary standing by his desk picking up paperwork, that person being Missy. If only she could kill her in front of their boss, right?

       As soon as Missy walked past her, she grabbed her arm to have a quick word.

               "Did you come home last night?” Victoria whispered to her.

               "Yeah.“ Missy answered. "You looked like you had some fun if you know what I mean.”

               "Did you shut off the alarm on my phone?“

               "Of course I did. You seemed so out of it, I didn’t wanna wake you.”

               "Missy!“ Victoria tried not to yell. "You know I need that to wake up in the morning! And maybe if you let me sleep last night instead of dragging me to some club this wouldn’t have happened!”

               "I don’t see why you’re complaining.“ Missy smirked. "I thought you would be all happy sunshine because you got into bed with him.”

               "Him?“ Victoria was curious as to why she put so much emphasis on the word.

               "Oh, you don’t remember, do you?” Missy raised her eyebrows in surprise at the realization. “Well this is awkward.”

               "Why is it awkward?“ Victoria was incredibly confused as to what was happening.

               "Victoria, I want you to formally meet the idols you’ll be working for.” Yang Hyun-Suk stood from his desk, approaching the door. “You can come in now.”

       Missy awkwardly stepped back a little to make room near the doorway, clutching the files to her chest. The door opened and in came five young men, one in particular having, platinum blonde hair.

       Victoria’s eyes went wide, as did his at the sight of each other. She recognized him all right, but not in the way she wanted. This couldn’t be happening. He knew exactly who she was.

               "Boys, this is Victoria Light, she’ll be your new stylist.“ Yang Hyun-Suk gestured to Victoria.

       She already knew she would be working for Big Bang, but she was not expecting this kind of aftermath from the night before.

       The handsome stranger, the man she had slept with the night before, was Kwon Ji Yong.

Thirsty Thursday - Part 2

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,519

Summary: The reader wants Dean to go out for Thirsty Thursday, even though he needs to study for an important test.

Part 1

“You’re sooo pretty.” You mumble as you run your hand through Dean’s dirty blonde hair.

“Do you think you’re pretty, Dean?” You say draping yourself on him.

“Not as pretty as you, sweetheart.” He chuckles.

“Awww…” You grab his face and start pinching it.

“I’m trying to drive, Y/N!”

“I’m not even touching you!” You fib as you hold on to him even tighter than before.

“Liar.” He says turning to look at you.

Keep reading

Comfort hcs for myself cause I had dental surgery yesterday and apparently I had an extra wisdom teeth thingy (paramolar or whatever it’s called) which had to be taken out too and it’s hurting like hell and I can’t even tALK MUCH NOR SNEEZE, YAWN, DRINK USING STRAWS ETC ETC OH GOD THIS HURTS EVEN MORE THAN THE PREVIOUS 2 SURGERY WHY DO I HAVE TO BE BORN WITH USELESS WISDOM TEETH AND PAIN TOLERANCE THE SIZE OF A SMOL BOWL

General situation: Significant other is having/had had a dental surgery. How would the boys react/help/act around them in general?

Midoriya is probably the most supportive and panicky boyfriend you could ask for. He worries about the most trivial things like whether you have enough pillow, have you eaten your fill, or whether the pain is supposed to be that bad and what if something’s wrong and oh gods what if the dentist pulled out the wrong teeth afterall?? Visits the dentist with you, although the graphic descriptions from the doctor kind of makes him nauseous. And the moment he saw your pulled-out teeth? Lord save him.

“I know firsthand how pain could be… well, painful, but I can’t bear the thought of you having to experience that kind of pain too…. Eh? Well, I guess having broken bones could be more worse, but you had your bone cleaved out too! Oh yeah, I did some research on ways for you to recover faster, here, let’s study the article together….”

Let’s be real here, Bakugou would at first feel that you shouldn’t protest about the situation, seeing it’s just a ‘small’ wound and you’re probably making a big deal about the pain more than it’s worth. It’s when you drag him along to the dentist to have your second check up that he realizes the situation is more serious than he thinks, and he’s literally horrified when the dentist told you about how you should take caution as the tissue separating your mouth and sinus is already paper-thin. He makes sure you sleep and eat twice the amount you’re used to.

“Oi, why are you stopping?! The fucking dentist said to eat more, so forget that stupid diet you’re on and eat! …. Hah?! I’m not worried, dumbass! I’m here cause you can’t even fucking take care of yourself without me! You’re finishing this bowl, and I’ll chuck it down your throat – gently, I guess – if I have to, now give me the fucking bowl!”

Todoroki is patient and tries his best to be useful as you groan and complain and mainly sleep around. While you recuperate, he makes sure you have enough water to drink beside your bed, that you’re not too cold or too warm when sleeping, and would even learn the meds you have to take so he can remind you if you ever forgot taking them. Also wouldn’t mind to accompany you when you have to visit the dentist if you ask him to, staying cool throughout the explanation and keeping it to heart, right down to the what you could and couldn’t do for the first month. Although it’s a little embarrassing, he would placing his right hand to your cheeks and uses his quirk to reduce the swelling.

“You’re really brave. Remember to have plenty of rest. If it hurts too much you can’t sleep, try focusing your attention to something else that isn’t strenuous. Tell me if there’s a book you want to read – I could check it out from the library or buy it in the bookstore on my way home. Just…. Take care, alright?”

Bonus: not my faves but people seem to like them sooo

Iida has always been there since the moment you told him about how you’ll be undergoing a small surgery. He comes along to the appointments and memorises everything the dentist tells you. The nurses thinks he’s a very faithful and proper husband. He’s literally your second mom throughout the recovery process, strict but caring nonetheless, and your family is very impressed.

Kaminari insists to be present when you’re having the surgery because “in worst case, if the electricity goes out in the middle of it I could use my quirk to ensure everything doesn’t stop until the emergency power kicks in!”… The reasoning makes sense just as much as its likeliness to happen, but you’d still comply because he’s bright and cheerful and you need someone like him close by in case you get too nervous.

It’s quite crushing for Toshinori to realize that you’re in pain and there’s nothing much he can do to help. He asks for advice from his fellow heroes and closest friends, and he’s very attentive to your needs. He buys you easy-to-eat foods, drinks that can fill your stomach, and the supplements you need to make you stay healthy.

Aizawa wouldn’t hesistate to confine you to bed if you insist on going out out of boredom, because letting you means he will have to constantly watch over you and he has dry eyes damnit it’s just too much of a chore. Despite his generally lazy demeanor, he would come running if you send him any sign of distress and helps you the best he can because honestly he hates to see you in pain.

New Perspective (TOU) [SC]

I had this written for weeks, but i thought it was horrible so i didn’t post. But it’s actually not, so I apologize so the ridiculous delay. Hope the requester(thatstotallyaword) will still see this!

“Hiya! Could you possible do an imagine for a girl named Emma with blonde hair and green eyes who’s Steve’s sister and Soda and her don’t get along then something happens that makes Soda look at her differently and fall for her? Sorry that’s a lot of information”

– requested

– warnings: little swearing? kind of stupid idk. I suck at soda writing.



My older brother has a strange obsession with cars and controlling his sister’s life. 

By sister, I mean me, obviously.

It’s kind of annoying.

“It’s so hot,” I whined. Mainly to aggravate him, but also just to whine. It’s stress-relieving. Doctors recommend venting, I swear on it. It’s therapeutic. “Didn’t you think to bring along a drink?”

“No, Queen Y/N, I didn’t.” He barked, pulling out a comb and running it through his dark hair. He’s more of a girl than me. That says something, too. “Do you think you could complain some more?”

I’m by far the cutest Randle.

Steve has this thick, thick greasy dark hair.

I know I have a different mother and that probably means I was blessed with a prettier one, but damn, my blonde hair makes his dark slime glimmer with plain ugliness.  

And I have these piercing green eyes. I don’t like them much, but guys say they’re real cute a lot.

I kicked a rock on the ground. The sun was pouring down like hot tea. That’s a cute comparison, huh? I think so, anyway. I bet you my English teacher would like that one…

“Glory, Steve, how’re you gonna work in this all day? It’s ninety degrees at the least!”

The temperature was just insane today. It was surely the hottest day of the summer.

I carefully checked my shoes for scuffs since I kicked that little stone once or twice. “Thank the Lord I hydrated some earlier.”

He rolled his eyes and shoved me. I started up with a whole string of complaints and had to jog to catch up to him as we neared the DX.

He works there a ton ‘cause he likes cars and hates our dad. Me, I had a million places I’d rather be. 

“Steve-y,” Sodapop greeted with a smile. What, were they together or something? Pet names? Glory.

I did not like Soda one bit. I didn’t hate him — not as much as he appeared to hate me, anyway.

It’s just so annoying to always hear your girlfriends in your ear yapping about your brother’s best friend and oh-have-you-talked-to-him? and he’s-such-a-doll!

I navigated my way to the gas station, leaving my brother to do whatever it is he does with Sodapop in the garage. The DX consists of a garage, a little convenience store, and the gas pumps in front. Sounds big but it ain’t.

Positioning myself behind the counter, I crossed my legs and carefully observed my manicure.

“What’s her deal?” I heard Soda ask Steve as they walked in a few seconds after I sat down.

It was real similar to any other convenience store. Little more limited. They had necessities, but didn’t have much else. The DX made its money of small car repairs and gas.

Obviously, they were aware I was right there. But it never stopped them before, did it? "Oh, is the brat bitchier on this fine day? Couldn’t tell.“

“Well, I don’t think I oughta answer that.” Funny how you stop yourself now, Sodapop. I couldn’t figure out what the girls liked about him.

His big soft eyes met mine and I rolled mine to break the awkward tension. Okay, he wasn’t that bad, I guess.

“She’s angry ‘cause I said she can’t go to her friend’s house,” Steve spat. “I caught her with a Soc the other day!”

“No,” Soda looked from me to Steve then back to me. God forbid I associate myself with Socs! “She didn’t —”

“Oh, yeah! I ain’t gonna go into details, man, but it was pretty horrifying.”

I narrowed my eyes and flipped my hair. I was so ready to fight with him. “That’s not true Steve Randle, and you know it!”

“Oh, it isn’t?”

“Oh, it isn’t? No, no it ain’t! I’m not as loose as you make me out to be, you know. Joey and I barely hit second bas—”


“Shut your trap,” I hollered with perfect eyebrows tight in anger.

Steve got a drink for Soda but got nothing for himself. He leaned against the thin shelf holding small bags of chips.

He shook his head slowly. “You know that kid Pete wanted to go with her? Comes 'round five every Sunday for a tank full? Good kid. He’s one good kid…”

Peter doesn’t even speak! I’m positive something’s wrong with the kid.

“Well, what’d you say?” Soda asks softly. He ran a hand through his blonde-ish hair. It’s not as blonde as mine.

I was repulsed. “I said no, of course! He’s kind of a loser — thought that was known around God’s green Earth.”

Sodapop took a sip of his drink as Steve got all bent out of shape. “He might be a little different but 'least he don’t ride around in a Mustang!”

“Steve!” I snapped. “I am not attracted to him. He’s not even popular, which just adds to the growing list of reasons why it’d never work. And you would ride around in a Mustang if you could!”

“Yeah,” he said icily. “Whatever.”

Sodapop looked over his shoulder at the gas pumps. “There’s people waiting. Steve, we oughta get out there. And with the repairs on Lindner’s car…”

Well, soon enough, I was positioned on a stool in the garage. This was an hour or so after I finished pouting in the empty store. Steve and Sodapop were working on a car that needed tons of tiny fixes.

Steve was pumping all the gas, though. It was so damn hot outside and I nearly felt bad. The girls — even his guy friends — would chat him up for the longest amounts of time, too.

“My hair isn’t bouncy anymore,” I frowned trying to sort of spring it. My attempts failed, naturally. I needed to borrow money to get my hair done up. The heat acted as iron weights.

Then, David came around at about two in the afternoon. He was a Soc who just never got the hint. Football team quarterback with an excessive amount of cologne always trailing behind him. But he was fun at parties, I guess.

“Hey, Y/N. Can I talk to you out here?” He asks real polite, careful not to invade the garage workspace. He knew my brother hated Socs. David fit just right under that category.

I mumbled an uninterested, “I suppose.”

David ordered me to go out with him and I declined for the third time.

It ended with him being smacked on his cheek.

“She’s sorta a bitch, huh?” Soda asked Steve as they covered themselves in oil. Gross. I could hear them as I watched David speed off in anger.

“She's sweet to her friends, but no one else.” Steve shrugged. “Doesn’t even like to go steady, really. Rejects everyone or’s easy for a night.”

I gaped, stomping into the garage. “Take that back!”

“It’s true!”

I pouted some more. The day seemed to be stuck in pause. Steve would work late, too. I was stuck there for a whole while longer. He was literally, like, babysitting me!

I hated Sodapop staring at me. I’m Y/N Randle, for Christ’s sake! I was one of the most popular girls in school. Why did he think he could judge me?

I didn’t need to take that! Who was he to judge me? He was beneath me in all meanings of the phrase!

He’d give me these little half smiles. The fake kind, I’m sure. 

And he’d either stare at me or pay no attention to me. That happened a lot.

I wasn’t attracted to him, but I mean, he’s hot! Naturally I’d want to catch him staring at me. But when he did, it was a pity stare. Like he felt bad for me or something.

“It is so hot,” I sang in frustration.

Standing up for the first time in probably an hour, I stretched up for the ceiling and I didn’t reach it.

I’ve always been medium to short in height. I was about 5'5 at the time, and skinny.

My skirt was light pink. It reached the middle of my thighs, I think. It was short but it was cute with my long white socks that came almost to my knee.

“Glory, Y/N. Think the skirt could get any smaller?”

“Shut your mouth, Steve.”

“Buddy, pass me that rag?” Sodapop pointed to a ripped red paisley cloth on a work bench.

“Here,” I said coyly as I gave it to him. We locked eyes for a few seconds and I looked away. Quickly, I groaned. “I hate it here, Steve! It’s so hot!”

He shrugged. “You never should of fooled around with some random Soc when you told me you were at Veeta’s house.”

“I was at her house! We went out together and I ran into Joey — who, for the record, is not a random rich boy!”

“If he’s so into you then why hasn’t he asked to take you out, then? Huh?”

“Because I said no! Are you happy?”

I rolled my eyes and stormed off back into the store room. I had fought with Steve a countless number of times that day.

“I’m sorry! Does that make you feel any better, Soc Queen?” He was yelling from the garage.

“Drop dead!” I hollered.

Twenty minutes later I was bored trying to curl my hair again with a pencil.

I was sticking to my clothes with sweat, it was so hot. Soda was wiping his forehead off a ton earlier that day, too.

Suddenly — as I’m about to drown in my own pool of sweat — Soda’s inside the shop, breathing hard.

“You oughta call someone,” his chest kept rising as he caught his breath. His soft eyes were wide with concern and alarm. “Something’s wrong with Steve.”

My eyes nearly fell out of my head. “What do you mean? Are you stupid! Why didn’t you call anyone already, you idiot! Jesus Christ, what did you do — just leave him? What’s wrong with him? Is he alive? What the hell happened? Sodapop? Curtis! Are you okay? Speak English? Ugh, nevermind! Don’t you have a brain?!”

He was too busy blinking and when he was finished I was already at Steve’s side in the garage.

He was laying on the ground with his eyes shut. His skin glimmered with perspiration and he looked less hostile with those sharp eyes of his closed.

I wasted no time in propping his head up on my lap. “Stevie, I thought you were smart, huh?”

Blindly, I reached around for any kind of drink. What I grabbed was Sodapop’s from the early afternoon. Steve was semi-awake, but just barely.

“Come on,” I tapped his cheeks. My eyes wouldn’t leave him. “Get up, Steve. C'mon, you’re a Randle!Wake up, Steve. C'mon, you got it. I’ll buy a root beer float, you love those. Come on, now.”

Soda was watching me, intrigued. It was weird 'cause he seemed to be watching me and not his best friend. "What’s wrong with him, do you know?“

"He’s breathing,” I said. “Already checked his pulse. He tends to faints every summer. Doesn’t ever drink enough. I try to tell him to, but he doesn’t listen very well. If he doesn’t get up within the next few minutes, getting him checked out wouldn’t do any harm. He’s okay, though.”

Sure enough, Steve opened his eyes up and blinked and let out an obnoxious groan.

He was already trying to lean himself up on his elbows when I stopped him, holding onto him.

“Steve, slow down,” I warned. “Are you alright?”

I helped him stand slowly. “I’m good,” he muttered. “I passed out, huh? Shit, my head hurts… You got an aspirin?”

As I rolled my eyes, he turned to grin at me.

“Every time you do that I have a mini heart-attack,” I told him sarcastically. I tried faking annoyed, I tried ignoring my heart that was still racing in fear. I pushed Soda’s drink at him so he could try to drink up. 

I’m always having to remind him to hydrate during the summer. He’s like a little kid, I swear. “Drink it, Steve. Get through that entire thing, okay?”

Steve managed a genuine smile. He had a hand pressed to his head. He was pretty red, even through his tan. “But you’re always there, aren’t you?”

I shrugged, “Can’t convince myself to let go.”

We hugged each other at the same time right then and there in front of Sodapop. He didn’t need to stick his arms out and neither did I. We just knew. It’s hard to describe.

“You had my back, huh? I guess you can go out if you want.” He rubbed his eyes. “Meet me back here before nine or else you won’t be able to handle the Randle. ”

I nodded, but was just going to walk to Darlene’s, probably. Her house was always cold. I said bye and all that, reminding Steve to drink up. “Ew, Steven. Hey, Sodapop, make sure he goes through three more drinks at the least!”

I stopped walking shortly after that when I heard footsteps behind me.

When I turned, I saw Sodapop. I automatically assumed it was Steve because I was only a few yards from the DX.

Soda frowned. No, it was a thoughtful look. “Hey, Y/N, where’re you heading to?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I was thinking Darlene’s since she came in earlier. Maybe a drive-in. I got some money on me. Why?”

“Do you think I could come with?”

What the hell? “You want to come? I mean, yes, you can, but…”

He glanced back at the DX. “I asked Steve and he said it was swell. And you don’t got to blow any money on me. Actually I have enough to pay for you, too.”

“You don’t got to pay for me,” I said. “Don’t you think you oughta stay with Steve, though? So he don’t faint again or nothing?”

“He’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”


“I reckon he’s part of it.”

“Well, who or what’s the other part?”

Soda bit his lip for a long time and I forced myself to look at the ground so I wouldn’t stare. “You are,” he said.

“Me? Why —”

“Look,” he said slowly, “I know we don’t get along real well —”

I scoffed, “because you hate me.”

He opened his mouth to object but I gave him a look and he stopped. He knew I was right. “Have you ever looked at somebody, and suddenly had feelings for them, almost?”

Darlene, of course he liked her. “You can come if you want. To Darlene’s.”

He was confused. “Not Darlene. You. I’m talking about you.”

“You don’t like me, Soda.”

“I didn’t think I did,” he said looking down at his hands. “I thought you were a real bitch to Steve and everyone else. But I know better, now.”

I laughed dryly, “No, no you don’t. I am a bitch. Always have been, always will be.”

“I didn’t see it at first,” he said slowly. He always speaks so slow! “But I do now. You know I ain’t that smart. But I got you figured out, now. The second you saw Steve hurt you were at his side. And you act like you hate everyone, but it’s because you don’t wanna get hurt, isn’t it? Some kind of defense thing. Like Dallas, like how he acts like nothing can touch him…”

I swallowed. “What’re you trying to get to here?”

He bit his lip again. “You’re just different than I thought and it’s interesting, I guess. Like a shell. I don’t know.”

“Okay,” I studied my shoes.

“Well, I’ve fell for you,” his eyes sparkled. “Sure, I thought you were pretty. Everyone thinks you’re pretty — you’re Y/N Randle. Also thought you were mean, but, in reality you’re just tryin’ to look out for yourself because no one else does… Besides, you know, Steve.”

I grinned. I had no idea what I was doing or anything, really. I didn’t like being deciphered like that but I couldn’t find it within myself to be angered. I think I already liked him. Alright, I did. Happy?

“I just wanna figure you out some more,” he told me. “So, I was wondering if you’d let me buy you a Coke.”

“Like a date?”

His hand linked with mine. “Yeah, like a date.”

“Well, I won’t object.”

“Being mine is also included in the package, doll. Just thought I’d let you know.”

“Only if you’re mine.”



“Jagi,” Yoongi groaned, “I don’t want to go to the store.” He said, burying his face in his pillow.

“How about this,” You brush his hair, “I’ll take a shower, get ready, help Jin with breakfast, and by the time it’s ready you get ready to get out of bed?”

“Can I sleep while you get ready?” He peeked.

“Yes, you can.” You giggled, rubbing his back and getting up. “I’ll let you know when we’re done with breakfast—alright?” You pecked his forehead.

“Don’t do that.” He complained, scrunching his face up.

“Whatever!” You walked to the bathroom. You took a shower, did your makeup, and brushed your hair and teeth. Once you were ready to cook with Jin, you walked out of the bathroom and to put some things away back with Yoongi. You rolled your eyes as you heard his light snores, and saw him looking like he was dead. His body was sprawled out over the bed, and you shook your head as you walked by.

“Aish, stop!” Jin smacked Jungkook’s hand away from the vegetables he was cutting.

“I’m hungry, hyung!” He whined, bouncing in place.

“You can’t have any yet—it’s not done, and I haven’t even started it.” He didn’t look at him, and focused on his chopping.

“Fine! I didn’t want any stupid vegetables anyway,” He crossed his arms, pouting as he walked to the couch. “Ah, noona!” He happily skipped to you, “You’re up! Does that mean Yoongi is up too?”

“Unfortunately, no. He’s being lazy,” You hugged him.

“So are all of the hyungs—well, more of just taking a while to get ready for the day. Isn’t it weird that you’ve been here so long?” He tilted his head, “How long has it been since you two started dating?”

“Five months or so?” You guessed, “Why?”

“Because you stood the night,” He scratched his head, “I didn’t hear anything..”

“Jungkook!” You lightly slapped his shoulder, “Nothing happened at all!”

He giggled while dodging your attacks, “I know.”

“(Y/N)!” Tae shouted, running at you in full speed while his arms were out. “You look so pretty today—doesn’t she, Jungkook?” He pressed your cheeks together, grinning ear to ear.

“She does look very pretty today,” He slightly blushed.

“Who looks pretty?” Namjoon asked, stretching as he fixed his hat.

“They’re just all over (Y/N),” Jin said, putting whatever he was cutting into a pan.

“All over here?” His deep voice said amused. “Damn, you do look hot.” Namjoon smiled, “It’s nice to know Tae can hug you, but what about me?” He raised his eyebrow.

“Since I’m giving everyone hugs, Jin I’ll be right there for your morning hug—and to help you.” You said, hugging Namjoon closely.

Once he let go, you went to Jin. “Good morning~” You sang happily, hugging him from behind.

“Good morning, (Y/N).” He ruffled your hair, pulling you to his side. “You can stir this while I chop some more things up, alright?”

“You’re cooking?” Hoseok asked behind you, “That’s Jin’s job.”

“I should help, you guys did let me stay last night—not to mention give us the room to ourselves.” You said stirring.

“I’m glad you didn’t use it for..‘private’ affairs.” He hugged you, kissing your cheek. “I hope you had a nice time sleeping with him, though. He’s a great pillow,”

“He didn’t move the entire night; at one point, I thought he was dead.”

“It always looks like he’s dead,” Jungkook laughed, playing with Tae’s hands.

“Oh, you’re cooking!” Jimin busted through the door, “Whoa, you look so h-” He cleared his throat, “Pretty today, (Y/N).” He smiled oddly.

“Thank you, Jimin~” You smiled, kissing his cheek as you continued to cook.

He broke out into a flustered smile, “Yeah.”

“How much are you chopping up? That’s a lot of food,” Namjoon said, his hands on Jin and your shoulders.

“It’s a lot of food to cook just for us—Tae alone has enough servings for five people.”

“It’s just (Y/N) staying,” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder instead, “She doesn’t have as big of an appetite.”

“I know,” Jin glared at him. “Just go sit down—watch tv or something. We’re fine by ourselves here, and we’d do better if you were out of our hair. Thank you,”

“Well then,” He raised his hands up, “I’ll just leave you to this.”

“What was that?” You breathed a laugh, helping him out more things in the pan.

“Sometimes he just gets on my nerves while I cook,” He opened the fridge, “Actually, all of them do. It’s always: 'Hyung, is it done? Hyung, how much longer? Hyung, can I have some?’ And they always yell,” He lifted his head, bringing some more ingredients out. “Don’t forget the picking at the uncooked food.”

“They are boys,” You shrugged, “They’re growing, they work hard, and they want food.”

Jin stared at you while blinking slowly, “I am one of those boys.”

“You are,” You smiled, pecking his cheek. “Go sit down with them—I got this.”

“What? No, (Y/N) you’re a guest.” He began to break eggs, “You shouldn’t even be helping.”

“But I am,” You countered, “What’s the big deal? You said it yourself: you work hard. You deserve a little break, and this is your chance. Do you really want to pass up the opportunity to be cooked for?”

“N-No..” He hung his head low, “But I can’t help but to feel guilty if you do this.”

“There’s no need to feel guilty; go!” You shoved him.

“Are you sure? Because it’s no problem, I can just-”

“Go, Jin!” You yelled, pushing him outside of the kitchen against his will as he struggled to keep his feet still on the ground.

“Ugh, alright.” He stomped off to the rest of the boys.

You went back to the stove, cooking what Jin was preparing. The boys would occasionally pop in to ask about how much longer they would have to wait, or try to sweet talk you into getting more in their serving. You turned off the burner, and got some glasses out to serve drinks. Eight cups, eight plates, and eight napkins. You walk over to the room Yoongi is sleeping in, cautious to not wake him up by the creaking of the door or yelling of the boys. “Wake up,” You cooed, lightly shaking him by his shoulder. “Breakfast is ready.”

“You cooked?” He opened his eyes slowly.

“Yes.” You nodded, slapping his bum. “Get up now,”

“Sure thing.” He smirked, smacking your bum harder than you did his.

“Aish!” You pushed him away. “Just get over there.” You walked out. You began filling the plates with the food, and pouring their drinks into the cups. “Breakfast is ready!” You informed them, putting the plates and everything else on the table as they raced to it.

“This looks good!” Tae smiled widely, staring at the food you placed in front of him.

“Yeah, you’re a really good cook—huh?” Jimin complimented you.

“Thank you, noona~” Jungkook hugged you.

“Should I just sit down?” You heard Yoongi ask, to find him scratching his head while he was shirtless.

“Yeah, baby.” You answered, being pulled into a tighter hug.

“Thank you, sexy.” Namjoon winked at you.

Yoongi sat, keeping his eyes on Namjoon. “You made all this?”

“She did—isn’t she great?” Hoseok took a bite out of the food.

“This is really good,” Jin said with his mouth full of food.

You went to the kitchen to retrieve your and Yoongi’s plate. “Here you go,” You kissed his head.

He cringed again, “Mm, what did I tell you about that?..”

“I wouldn’t mind her kissing my head,” Jimin licked his lips.

“Especially when I’m sick~” Namjoon added, “Wouldn’t that be great? Nurse (Y/N)..” He trailed off, “I can picture the outfit already.”

“Low cut button up short dress, heels, and those cute stockings.” Jimin closed his eyes.

“Will she give us shots, Jin? Or will we give her an injection of our own?” Namjoon put some more food in his mouth.

“Hyung!” Jungkook choked on his food, “That’s really crude..”

“Oh, if she gives us a shot can she give us lion print band aids?” Tae popped his head up excitedly.

“That’s not what they meant..” Hoseok put his hand on his forehead.

“Your her cousin—aren’t you going to kill them for speaking about (Y/N) like that?” Jin asked chewing with his cheeks full.

“Ah, I’ve learned to just let it go.” He sighed picking at his food, “They can say all they want, but she won’t let them get any further than hugs and occasional pecks on the cheek.”

“Fair enough,” Jin shrugged.

“What about when she bends down?” Namjoon whispered loudly to Jimin while nudging him. He giggled while continuing to eat. They glanced over to Yoongi and you sitting beside each other eating. “She does look pretty damn hot today,” Namjoon said loudly, directing it towards Yoongi.

He grumbled lightly, continuing to eat and trying to ignore them. “Do you want more water, Jimin?”

“I can get it myself,” He was about to get up, but you beat him to it.

“I’ll get it.” You grabbed his cup, and walked back to the kitchen.

“Yah, could you shut up now?!” Yoongi yelled, slamming his hand on the table. “Eat the food my girl made,”

“I was wondering when he was gonna say something..” Jungkook said under his breath as you passed by to give Jimin his drink back.

“Thank you, (Y/N).” He avoided eye contact with you.

“Get over here.” Yoongi patted the floor next to you where you previously sat. You watched Namjoon stiffen laughs as he poked at his food. “Got something to say, Namjoon?”

“No, hyung.” He shook his head smiling.

“Thinking about something you shouldn’t be?” Yoongi raised his eyebrow, sipping his water.

“My thoughts aren’t something you have to worry about,” He sang.

“Just eat the goddamn food already,”

//At The Mall//

“Isn’t this pretty, Yoongi?” You held up a dress.

“It’s definitely sexy, but I doubt anyone wouldn’t look at you.” He gently took it from you and returned it back in its place, “Like Namjoon, or Jimin..”

“Baby, they’re always like that—you know that.” You wrapped your arms around his waist. “But I’m yours.”

“That’s right,” He held your hips, “But that doesn’t mean I’ll let you get that dress.”

“Can I just try it on?” You whined.

“Fine. You have to show me it after you put it on, though.” He caved.

You cheered, snatching the dress back and dragging him to the fitting room that you fixated a gaze on. You rushed inside, leaving him outside. Quickly, you tore your clothes off and tried the new piece of clothing on. You admired yourself in the full mirror—looking at different angles and parts of the dress. It fit in all the right places, and the color/print complimented you perfectly. Deciding that you were happy with the outcome, you hesitantly walked out to Yoongi—afraid of his reaction. “How do I look?” You asked, putting your arms out.

He looked up from his phone, “Beautiful..” He stared for a while, then shook his head. “You look great, but too great.”

“Does this mean I can’t get it?” You frowned.

He sighed, putting his phone in his pocket and turning to you. “Jagi, I just don’t want guys to look at you. I don’t like when guys even talk to you while we’re out somewhere.” He tried to justify his answer, “I’m afraid you don’t understand what I’m saying,” He held your hand loosely, “I don’t want guys to talk to you, or even look at you. You’re my girl, got it? Not Namjoon’s, not Jimin’s, not some desperate guy—Mine; all mine.” He pointed at his chest. “I can’t trust guys won’t look at you in that, and who knows what could happen if I wasn’t there to protect you.” You nodded, looking down at his shoes. His finger lifted your head up to his face, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Just hold my stuff while I look for what I really came here for,” You gave him your purse in his arms, “Stay here.” You searched everywhere for that cute top you had seen on the Internet to no avail.

“May I help you?” A boy around your age asked from behind you.

“Ah, yes.” You nodded sheepishly, and described the top to him.

“We actually just got those today—we’re putting them on display tomorrow. I’ll have no problem getting you one from the back room, though.” He smiled.

“You’d do that?” You eye sparkled with hope.

“Of course. Follow me, okay?” He walked back to by where Yoongi was. You looked over to him, and he was scrolling away on his phone still. You didn’t blame him: shopping in a mall for hours with your girlfriend, no food or beverages allowed in the stores, and rarely any men’s stores. “Uh,” The boy laughed nervously, “I need a little help over here..” He held a tower of boxes from falling, “Just hold this,” He gave you a boxcutter. You watched as he fixed the taller-than-you stack of boxes filled with clothing. “Found it!” He proclaimed happily, “I’ll open it if you hold it.” He winked.

“Okay.” You say slowly, trading with him.

He opened it, and saw your phone nearly hanging out of your cleavage. “Hey, you should give me a call if you have any troubles with the shirt.” He opened up the box, “What size?”

“(Your/Size).” You played with your bracelet, “What do you mean troubles?”

“Oh, just any problems—like stitching errors, or there’s a stain—you don’t like it..” He checked the sizes, “I’ll happily take it off you.”


“I’ll put my number in for you,” He put his hand out.

Your niceness consuming you, you handed him your phone reluctantly. “Return it to him,” You pointed to Yoongi, “I’ll be changing out of this.” You snatched the shirt and ran to the dressing room.

After a rushed event of taking off the dress, you hear two voices. “You’re her friend?”

“Friend?” Yoongi scoffed, “I mean, that’s part of the label I have; just missing the first three letter word in front of it.”

“Hey man, just give her the phone back and tell her I said to text me tonight.” You raced to a place where you could see them, but they couldn’t see you.

“Text her? Did you not understand what I just said, kid?” Yoongi stood taller, “I’m her boyfriend.”

“She could see different people at the same time;” the ignorant boy shrugged.

“I really don’t think you understand,” Yoongi cleared his throat, “My girl—she’s my girl. Look,” He lifted up your bag, “Her purse—an expensive purse I got her; me her boyfriend. This phone,” He dangled it in front of his face, “She uses it to contact me everyday,” He unlocked it, “That is, if she’s not already with me.” He looked, and laughed. “You save your name as 'Future Husband’, hm? You think that’s funny? I’m not laughing at that, I’m laughing at you. The fact you think my future wife would be with anyone as,” He looked at him from head to toe, “Swagless, pabo, clown boy, as you.”

“Come on,” He practically pleaded. “Don’t delete it—please!”

“Give me one good reason.” Yoongi challenged him.

“I can show her a good time, and treat her well.”

He looked up, then looked like he was thinking. He dipped his head down again, then picked up the phone and deleted his number. “Bye.” The boy said cursed between gritted teeth as he walked away. “You saw that?” He asked turning to you.

“Yeah.” You nodded, walking over to him.

“Don’t be giving guys your number or phone,” He handed it back to you—more like smacked it into your palm. “Am I clear, jagi?”

“Yes, oppa.” You responded, taking your belongings from him.

“You’re only mine, babe.” He put his arm around you, rubbing along it and placing a sweet kiss on the top of your head. “You’re gonna be mine for a while, too.”

Welcome Home Princess - Part 2

First of all I wanted to thank everyone who has read and given me feedback on not just WHP but also my other short stories and fics - it means the absolute world to me that you guys enjoy and anticipate more from my writing, makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside - As promised, a part 2 of WHP.

Warnings: OC is a dark character, there is swearing, mention of knives??, and sexually suggestive content - if any of this bothers you or is a trigger please be advised and feel free to go read my fluffier or less aggressive content x


Keep reading