#// if you stopped picking apart shit like ink qualities

[thanatologie]

anyway good morning i'm too lazy to make swatches myself because i have too much ink to dig through, but remember that fun little talk we had about emmrich and stationery, no, well we had that, so here's the modern inks i'm deciding are emmrich-coded, i do not accept criticism at this time (swatches from mountain of ink, fwiw):

there's a couple others that i'd throw in here for giggles that either don't have a swatch at moi, or have the vibe but i don't think he'd use, like iroshizuku ina-ho (now discontinued, too light / non-water and light resistant for academic use), krishna lyrebird blue-black (takes too long to dry), herbin emerald of chivor (too fussy as a shimmer, though i could also see him using the unshaken ink so the shimmer is absent), colorverse a lib (too light for academic/practical use but it hits that lilac button hard), and like a million more that would be fun, but not practical. like i'm with you, i'd love to give him multi-shaders/tri-colors/prismatics, but lbr.

(also this is a record for me, so i can remember what i have inked for what i'm using with his handy dandy shit he would know that i'm too stupid to know notebook. i'm sorry for you and me that yama-budo is the only fun one, tbh, but it writes darker in the pen i'm using it in, so outside of gold sheen, even it's not that fun in practice.

there's also a few that i'm using that don't have swatches because they are extremely hard to come by, like post-wwii late-1940s parker quink permanent blue-black, 1950s sheaffer skrip washable blue, wwii-era parker quink microfilm black, etc, and ink that's bog standard, anyway, like waterman serentiy blue and kaweco royal blue.)

but they all, in some way, exemplify important facets of use for an academic, because these are all qualities i looked for in an ink for note-taking, which is water-resistance/waterproof, fast-drying, works well on any kind of paper, legible on literally all paper, and with the exception of yama-budo (though, again, in certain nibs it's much darker / much less pink and more really, really dark magenta) exude a certain professionalism (which lbr for all his flamboyance is clearly important to him).

thanks for coming.

[lubdubsworld]

The Devil’s Own.

Jungkook x OC

Mafia Au!

Warnings : Non-Con ! Manipulation, Degradation, Shitty hero with no redeeming Qualities you have been warned. ( i mean he does get better but not much.) 

Summary : Just Mob Boss Jungkook doing mob boss things. 

Chapter 1

“ Sign it. ”

I glared at him, feeling sick at the tone. The entitlement.

“No.” I said sharply and I could feel his anger swelling, morphing into something dangerous and deadly but I couldn’t care anymore. I was tired. Exhausted. This cat and mouse game had gone on , long enough. It wasn’t an even playing field, in any sense of the qword.

If today was the day I died, so be it. I would accept it. I would even welcome it.

I was done.

He had everything : an empire at his beck and call , enough money to pave the streets of Seoul in gold and an army of loyal associates behind him. His face was plastered on Billboards across the country , the President posted pictures of him on his fucking SNS and delegates from other countries had to wait weeks , just to get an appointment with the youngest billionaire South Korea had ever seen.

And yet none of those white collared dignitaries saw this side of him. The dirty, violent ruthless man who had more blood on his hands than anyone else in the country. My father’s. My brothers’.

Jeon Jungkook was both the most revered business man in the country and the undisputed king of Seoul’s criminal underbelly.

“You defiance only makes me want to break you in other ways Elena.” He said warningly and I felt my throat go dry. I stared at him, wondering how someone could look so expensively gorgeous and yet, like a hardened criminal.

The expensive silk shirt, the fitted slacks and the handmade shoes ought to clash with the dark ink that covered his entire arm and neck, the piercing on his eyebrow and the glint of metal on his tongue but it didn’t.

It just all came together to make him the most attractive man in existence.

I took a deep breath. Perhaps begging was the way to go?

“ You have my father’s company. You have my brother’s Hospital and you have the family mansion. It’s all yours. This bakery belongs to my mother. It’s all I have left of her. My sister in law is pregnant , due any day. She needs a place to stay and I don’t… I don’t have money to rent anywhere else.” I said desperately, thinking of the paltry wage I earned waiting tables. I could barely afford food for myself let alone for Jisoo and the baby on the way.

The bakery was abandoned but it had a roof. The furniture was crumbling but I could fix that. If I didn’t have to worry about rent, I could save up enough to make it livable. At least till I got a better job.

“I’ve offered you solutions for all of that.” He reminded me softly, eyes trained unblinkingly on me and I stared at him.

“I’m not going to be your whore.” I felt my voice shake.

He grimaced.

“You aren’t qualified to be my whore. And I don’t need one either. Whores are not my thing. I have a beautiful fiancée, don’t you remember? ” He grinned. I felt my heart ache because that fiancée was once my best friend. The only person I had trusted with my entire life. Lisa had betrayed my trust, had spied on my father’s operations and brought him down and I had the horrible, horrible inkling that she had also had something to do with my father and brother’s untimely death in a car crash.

But I couldn’t think about that. Every time I thought about her my heart broke and head spun, and I had to be at my maximum mental capacity if I was going to deal with her heartless fiancée.

“ If you ask me, you’re not fit for anything more than a back alley blowjob for a couple bucks. But Hoseok thinks you have potential. Join his agency, there are a lot of very wealthy men who have a bone to pick with your father. He made a shit ton of enemies. Most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of you. ”

His words felt like worms crawling all over my skin and I could feel the nausea churn inside me.

“I’m not signing the bakery over. You can call the creditors. I still have another year and half to pay the one remaining loan and they won’t come for me till then.” I felt my head begin to throb and Jungkook sighed.

“Suit yourself.” He stood up and I stayed still, watching his tall frame tower over me with ease. He gave me a small bitter smile. It was fraught with hatred and I stared back at him, knowing the emotion was probably mirrored in my gaze.

“Beautiful Elena. As pretty as the day you left me at the altar.” He smirked and I flushed.

“Your vengeance is petty and pointless and unfair…just like you.” I said angrily, frustration building u at his words. The way he talked about our broken engagement like it even mattered. It hadn’t even been real. We had hardly spoken and my father had called the wedding off at the last moment. But apparently, that had been the last straw for the Jeons. They had come after my father’s entire existence with a single minded intent to destroy him and they had succeeded. The man was dead . His two sons were dead.

But apparently it wasn’t enough.

Jungkook stared at me, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Maybe. But it’s also deadly and potent. And it won’t rest until I see you reduced to nothing but a whore on the streets, spreading your legs for every man who can afford you.” He laughed. “ Saying no is a luxury , one that you’ll soon be unable to afford.”

I refused to be cowed, refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words scared me. Because they did.

They scared me so damn much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This bed is so lumpy… I’m so sorry, unnie..” I said apologetically but Jisoo shook her head quickly, palms cupping my face as I held her elbows, gently lowering her to the bed. I stared at her feet, feeling my heart race at how swollen they looked. That can’t be normal, a voice whispered and

I didn’t know if that was normal and I had no money to take her to a clinic. The social center we usually went to only allowed three visits per month and we had used it all up. I wanted to throw caution to the wind and spend the thirty thousand won it would take but that would mean no groceries for a week and surely bread and eggs wouldn’t stretch that long, even if I could sneak meals in the restaurant for myself.

“I’ve been feeling a little dizzy…I’ll just sleep.” She said tiredly. She was thirty six weeks along, not due for another four weeks but her blood pressure was erratic. Her lab numbers were oscillating and there had been talks of an emergency c section. Even with insurance it was way more than I could afford but I had my own jewelry, a few expensive trinkets from my teenage years. I’d been obsessed with diamonds and my father had indulged me and I had a pair of earrings left. I’d already sold the rest but this would take care of the medical bills for the birth itself.

“My shift starts in ten minutes. I have to go. Give me a call if you need anything…” I said softly and I saw the familiar blank and listless look come into her eyes. I knew she was depressed, dealing with grief and pregnancy and loss but there was nothing I could do for her. Nothing. I had applied for a bunch of other jobs but they never wrote back. It wasn’t easy, being rejected over and over again but it wasn’t like there was much else I could do. And the truth was I was resigned to this, accepted that at some point I would have to take more loans and be stuck in an endless cycle of debt for the rest of my life.

And I had made peace with that.

There was no future for me. And I was okay with just surviving.

If only Jungkook would let me.

Apparently, watching me wipe down greasy tables and mop up floors and toilets trying to earn just enough to get a few square meals didn’t soothe his anger. It only fueled it. Jungkook couldn’t fathom that it had been six whole months of me on the streets of Seoul and I wasn’t completely destitute yet. I’d kept myself and my sister in law alive, safe and it pissed him off.

He wanted to see me broken and on my knees, begging him for help. The idea of me somehow surviving despite him taking everything away from me, it just didn’t sit well with him.

I couldn’t afford to have him as an enemy so all I could really hope was that one day he would wake up and give up. One day he would just wake up and decide that I wasn’t worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I walked into my shift and noticed a familiar pair of high heeled Louboutins , completely out of place in my seedy place of employment, I knew I was in trouble. Lisa sat against one of the booths and her gaze was fixated on the door which meant she was waiting for someone. And when her eyes narrowed at the sight of me, I just knew I was the someone.

She wants to get me fired.

It wasn’t rocket science and I felt the urge to turn right back around and leave.  But I tamped down on it. I could get through this. I would get through this. Lisa and Jungkook got off on invoking reactions and I wouldn’t give them that.

Except it wasn’t that easy.

It was a nightmare, watching her demand and reject and walk all over me but the sleeplessness from the past few days made spacing out easier and I just stared away at the wall as she yelled and complained and made a scene.

“You’ve stopped fighting? Finally giving up? Good…” She hissed when the manager apologized to her and told me to meet him after my shift and I felt myself tremble in indignation.

“I won’t fight you or Jungkook, you and I both know I can’t afford to.” I said quietly and she went still, something flashing in her eyes for a second. It was gone before I could fully process it but it had been there. Guilt.

Lisa wasn’t a terrible human. She had been a dear friend. We had grown up together and she had even hugged and teased me when I’d been betrothed to Jungkook, all those years ago. I had been twenty back then, naïve and spoiled. While Jungkook had taken my father’s entire legacy apart, piece by piece, Lisa had been nothing more than a pawn. I remembered all the times I had let her home, how she would disappear for lengths of time.

Planting bugs all over the house. All over his office. Jungkook had been smart. Someone like Lisa, so fascinated by thr wealth she had grown up around would naturally jump at the idea of more. It wasn’t greed. It was human nature. And with her help he had destroyed everything my father had built over decades.

I shuddered. My father hadn’t been a good man. He had been greedy, yes. But he hadn’t deserved to die. And Jungkook would have to pay for that sin, someday.

“There’s a job waiting for you in Hoseok’s club.” She smiled cruelly , “ you don’t need this one.”

“The fact that you want to take it away from me, tells me that maybe there’s nothing left in you save.” I said blankly and she turned her nose up at me.

“I have Jungkook. I don’t need to be saved.”

I shook my head. She was so naïve. Men like Jungkook cared for nothing but themselves. But I wondered if women like her didn’t care for anything but the money that came with being his. Money was precious, I thought bitterly. I’d never realized how privileged I had been until I’d had it all ripped away.

“He’s the one you need saving from. And one day you’ll realize that.” I shrugged, not in the mood to offer her anymore life advice.  If she was alright with being a trophy wife in exchange for a few pretty shoes that was her prerogative.

Before she could reply,  my phone rang.

“Hello?” I asked nervously and I felt my heart drop to my knees when I heard who it was.

I turned on my heel rushing inside and my manager gave me a look of surprise.

“ My sister..she’s… she’s sick. I need to go.” I said desperately and his eyes narrowed. It was the worst timing. He was already annoyed because of Lisa and I stared in disbelief as he quickly shook his head.

“No. I’m sorry Elena…I just can’t let you leave like that…” He said sharply.

It was so unfair.

“I haven’t taken a single day off in five months…” I said desperately..” Please, she’s pregnant..She needs me, she-“

“If you leave, you won’t have a job to come back to. I can’t do this.. First you make trouble with a customer and now you just want to walk out in the middle of your shift without any notice…”

“Fine. Fire me.” I snapped, because I’d just had enough of it. I was exhausted, and tomorrow I’d go knocking on some other tore and I’d get a job. I lived in Seoul …How hard could it be? For now, I had to get to Jisoo. I had to get the hospital and things would be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t okay.

“I… You want to keep her in? So soon?”

“Her blood pressure is through the roof. There are signs of severe pre eclampsia and we want to get her started on a magnesium drip. Steroids to help the baby’s lungs incase we need to deliver…”

“Deliver..?” I couldn’t breathe.

“Yes, I’m sorry…. If her blood pressure doesn’t come down we’re going to have to deliver.”

I nodded, glancing at the bed where Jisoo was sleeping, her face swollen and I knew that she was sick. Really sick. She looked pallid and ill.

“Is she going to be okay?” I asked hoarsely.

“We’re going to do what we can… But I’m going to be honest, we’re looking at a c section, a lot of meds and also some time in the NICU for the baby…. Can you afford it? Your sister’s insurance only covers 80% .”

I blinked, completely thrown. White noise rushed through my ears,  a dull throb settling right at the base of my skull and beginning to spread all the way to my arms and back. It was panic mixed wth anxiety mixed with despair and I couldn’t quite cope. The earrings wouldn’t cover all that.

“Oh… Oh..yeah.” I said dully, “ Of course I can… Let me just…. Can I have a moment? There’s somethings I need to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I carefully slipped the cash into the envelope, swallowing as I sat on the pavement. I’d got another call from the hospital, they had administered the steroids but Jisoo’s condition seemed to be worsening. They wanted to try inducing labour soon but they wanted me to pay for the room and for the medicines, and apparently, the earrings weren’t as valuable as I thought they were.

I fought nausea wrapping arms around myself as I stared at the cars whizzing by, the putrid city air clogging my lungs as I tried to come to terms with what was happening. Jisoo needed help. She was the only one left and she carried my brother’s son. I felt my throat clog when I thought of Daehwan. He had been a good guy. I had loved him. It wasn’t fair, what Jungkook had done to my family, I thought miserably .

And the only reason I wasn’t driven by vengeance or anger was because I was nothing like Jungkook. I hated him. I didn’t want him to live in my head, didn’t want to waste any part of myself on him , not even my anger. But it was hard when he wouldn’t let me breathe, always at my heels like a wolf : jaws snapping and blood thirsty eyes trained on me at all times. I couldn’t fathom his obsession sometimes. Surely, his hatred was uncalled for now? He’d taken everything from me anyway.  

There was a dull roaring in my ears, one that said that this was not really a surprise. I’d thought about it way too often, had considered it countless times. Had even spent one absolutely horrifying evening scouring the streets of Seoul’s red light district just to see how sex workers behaved.

I’d also realized that in the face of desperation, dignity didn’t hold much value.

You are going to pay your debts on your back and on your knees.

The first time Jungkook had thrown it at my face, eyes glinting with glee, my stomach had rebelled so hard. I’d been absolutely infuriated, had thrown a vase at him. And it had been awful,  watching him catch it out of the air with ease, his mocking laughter making my bones rattle as he shook his head, “ That’s how this ends, Elena. Mark my words.”

And it was pitiful ,  that he went through life so consumed with hatred and vindictive cruelty that he couldn’t leave me alone . He was pathetic. That’s how I saw him. A pathetic child who refused to stop tormenting the helpless ant on the floor although it was no match for his cruelty.

At some point Jungkook was going to win. And his idea of winning was seeing me stripped bare of the one thing that kept me alive : my freedom.

It had just happened sooner than I’d thought.

Because I knew what it would mean, to go to Hoseok. He would own me. Hoseok’s whores were all slaves, tangled in his web so badly that there was no hope of escape. He wasn’t cruel but he was smart. No one left the his ‘ agency’ once they went in. I would be lost, forever. And I couldn’t stomach it.

I stared at my knees, fists clenched on the fabric of my skirt. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through the contacts. I considered it carefully. I had to do this on my terms. Had to make sure I retained some sort of control here.

And I knew just how to do it.

Hoseok picked up on the third ring.

“Hello.”

“I need help.” I croaked out.

The deep chuckle made my skin crawl.

“Elena Gong. What a wonderful, wonderful surprise. What can I do you for?” He drawled.

“Well sweetheart, I’m all out of charity so you’re going to have to make it worth my while.”

I took a deep breath.

“I’m a virgin.” I whispered.

The line went completely silent.

“What?” The amusement in his voice died.

“You heard me and I’ll let you cash in on it. I’ll let you auction it off…” I tamped down on the burning protest in my lung, the screaming inside my head that said it was horrifying, that I was considering this. “ But only if you keep my terms.”

“What makes you think you have a say in that.” He said sharply and I laughed.

“I belong to your world, Hoseok. Did you forget that we were friends, once.” I whispered and he didn’t reply.

Laughter, kindness, a big brother I could always count on, hobi oppa, nine year old me with my fingers curled around his wrist as we ran all around the gardens , a smile so wide that he could spread sunshine on the gloomiest days. Different from Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi and the others. Willing to include a ‘ girl’ in his playtime. Lisa and I the only girls, not even fazed watching as the rest of them wielded toy guns and mock interrogation scenes, pretending to kill and maim and torture because that was the world we were born into.

“We’re not friends, Elena. Let’s get that straight. The only part of you that holds any value to me is th part between your legs. So tell me, what do you want.”

“When was the last time you auctioned off someone’s virginity? You know how much money you can make off something like that. Not just from the sale itself but from the entire night. Your club… Your gaming hell…. All of it.”

“You expect me to believe you’re a virgin. At twenty seven.” He scoffed.

“Put the word out, everywhere. If you find one man who says he’s slept with me , I’ll back off.”

“That would require me to tarnish your  family name. And you’re alright with that?”

I smiled biotterly.

“Isn’t that what you and your precious Jungkookie want? To see the last living Gong, be labeled as a whore and a slut.”

He didn’t reply.

“I’ll give you that. You can do it… You know that will only interest more people. As Jungkook so eloquently put it, most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of me.”

“What’s the catch. What do you want. ”

“2 billion won.”  I said firmly “It will be one night. One night only and I want enough money to pay off every one of my father’s debts, to get me an apartment for my sister in law and to support her and her baby for a year at least.”

“Done.” He said without missing a beat and I went still. What must it be like, to throw around money like that without a care in the world. And it sickened me that Jungkook was probably ten times as rich as Hoseok , the money my father owed him and his associates not even pocket change in comparison to his gargantuan wealth and yet, he stayed on my heels, snapping his jaws like a dog with a bone.

“And Jungkook doesn’t get to watch.” I said softly, knowing exactly what Jungkook would get off on.

That made Hoseok laugh.

“You know him too well. I keep forgetting he was madly in love with you once.”

I resisted the urge to vomit. Jungkook didn’t know love. He knew ownership. He didn’t love me, he thought he owned me. That I was his to play with…. For the rest of his life. And when my father had denied him that, just like a toddler in a toy store being denied a shiny toy to break and trample on, he had thrown a temper tantrum.

Except his tantrums always ended in death and destruction.

“That’s the deal. He doesn’t turn up there to gloat.”

“He’s heading out to Switzerland for a week , two days from now.” Hoseok said evenly.

“Good then. My sister in law…she “ I swallowed. “ She’s in a hospital in Yongsan. I’ll send you the address.”  

“I’ll take care of it. But I want you here tonight. I’m not going to drop a couple billion won on your head without making sure I’m getting my money’s worth. And I can’t have you changing your mind and bolting either. My reputation is on the line here. If I put out the word that I’m serving something so fucking delicious and then back out, they’re not going to want to buy Hobi’s wares anymore. You understand what I’m saying darling?” Hoseok drawled and I knew exactly what he was saying. If I agreed to this, it was blanket consent for him to whatever he wanted.

“I won’t back out. I can’t. But this is one night. One night with whichever bastard you choose and that’s it. I want out.  I don’t want you or Jungkook hounding me again. Ever.” My voice shook as I dug my fingers into my knees.  

“My men will be there in ten minutes. Sit tight, princess.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stared at Hoseok as he carefully poured me a finger of whiskey, neat. He gave me a smirk and I shrugged.

“you remember.” I said casually, throat itching because it had been way too long since I’d had quality alcohol. I missed the burn,  the warmth , the numbness that followed.

“Of course I do. You could drink all of us under the table with little effort. It was spectacular.” He laughed and I leaned back against the couch, letting my head fall back.

“I was half certain that you would have a doctor around to make sure I’m a virgin.” I stared at him and he shrugged. “ Pointless. You’re twenty seven, you’ve probably had stuff up there anyway… Not like your hymen’s still going to be intact.”

I thought it was rather horrifying, that I didn’t feel nearly as mortified as I should. This was how Hoseok talked, matter of fact and open and that was why he was so popular. Anytime an important person came into the country, Hobi was the one who offered entertainment for the night. Hobi’s girls were always the prettiest, most well behaved and perfect. They were educated, knew what they were talking about and he didn’t force them into the life. They loved it, enjoyed it and it showed.

Not to say he was a saint.

Far from it.

Hoseok knew how to dine with kings in castles  but also how to wrestle with  swine in the gutter. The seedy brothels in Seoul’s back alleys were his as well, and he ruled his kingdom with an iron hand. The prostitutes there feared him, one look or word enough to silence any rebellion, any thought of escape.

He was called Hope. And yet somehow that was exactly what he denied the women under him. There was no hope here. There was only lust and power and money. You came to Hobi…. You never left .

I took the glass he offered, taking a small sip, savoring the taste.

“But you believe me. I wonder why.” I watched him closely and he scoffed.

“Between your father and Jungkook, no one ever really had the pluck to come anywhere near you  did they?”

Undisputable.

I sighed, leaning back to stare at him.

“Do you think dying hurts?” I asked softly.

It was frightening, how his entire body went stiff, eyes wide and jaw dropping.

“Elena, what the fuck-“

“Its just a question. You’ve killed people. You’ve watched them die… how do you think they feel?” I asked , curious.

“None of them wanted to die. If that’s what you’re asking.” The look in his eyes made me nervous.

I stared at him and the question was obvious. None of them wanted to die, but do you?

I didn’t.

“I’m not thinking of killing myself , oppa.  Stop looking so horrified.” I laughed. He shook his head.

“ Don’t joke about that. It’s not fucking funny.”

I sobered up, remembering with a jolt. Ah, of course.

“I’m sorry. I forgot.” I said quietly.

Hoseok’s little sister had killed herself when I was seventeen. She was a year older than me and her father had lost her in a wager to a seventy year old man, known for torturing his bedmates. She had heard the news, taken a deep breath and taken a deep dive off the seventeeth floor of the condo where she lived with her mother.

I’d been engaged to Jungkook by then. And I had almost wanted it. Jungkook wasn’t old at least… twenty one to my seventeen.

“Just so you know, he’s going to find out. And he’s not going to like it.”

I shrugged. Three years is a long time to be preyed upon and now my mind was resigned to a life of being hunted. Hoseok was right. Jungkook would find out and he wouldn’t like it.

Good.

“I don’t care what he does anymore. All I care is that Jisoo and the baby are left out of whatever plans he has…. If you promise me you’ll keep them safe , I’ll cooperate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a baby boy.

I stared, fingers itching to hold the baby but it was impossible, the little one whisked away to the NICU right after with respiratory distress and Jisoo had gone into a seizure, eyes rolling back into her eyes.

She as alright now, resting in a VIP room with the best care money could buy. Hoseok had asked me if I was happy with the arrangements, and if I would name the boy after him.

I stared at the room, large and breezy and filled with flowers and gifts, toys and baby stuff and I knew right then that I had sealed my fate. I was going to have to go through with this. I could imagine how much Jisoo would protest when she came to her senses. The only relief was that it would take her a few days to be good enough to fight or protest. But then this would all be over and done with.

Jungkook would leave this afternoon. His flight was at three.

I would reach the club at five. The patrons would arrive at seven.

One night, I reminded myself , staring at the gentle rise and fall of Jisoo’s chest as she slept, my fingers playing with the soft skin on her wrist. The IV line went through her veins and I watched the gentle drip of it.

One night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t know how auctions happened and while I’d been prepared for the worst kind of humiliation,  Hoseok assured me that he wasn’t going to make me stand naked on some podium or something.

“Generally, I would do something like that simply for the flair of it but consider this a favor ….a respite because you were, as you said, once a friend.” He gave me an even smile and I could only nod in mute relief.

I was grateful. Beyond grateful.

And what was more, he hadn’t told anyone, who I was.

That stunned me. Because wasn’t that the selling point? The murderous, greedy mob rat Gong Hyo Suk’s only daughter forced to spread her legs for one lucky stranger? If Hoseok had cashed in on that he would have made a fortune. But he hadn’t. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Would , whoever it was be upset if he recognized me?

I was led to a bedroom, large and tastefully decorated with silky satin sheets and dark curtains and dim lighting that lit up parts of the room and left other parts plunged in darkness. Hoseok had told me to wear whatever I wanted and I realized with a pang that he really didn’t see this as some sort of transaction. He was trying to make it as easy as possible without making any decisions for me. Offering me choices and options and some illusion of being in control.

I didn’t have anything fancy so it was just a dress shirt that I borrowed from Hoseok. I’d left the underwear off, eager to merely get the whole thing over with. I felt a sudden overwhelming urge to laugh out loud.

If Jungkook were here he really would have lost his damn mind, simply because of how little this whole thing affected me. And that was it, really. He was always desperate for a reaction.

Earlier when this whole thing had started, I’d obliged him with that. I would scream, rant and yell….launch myself at him like a wildcat, scratching at him , fists flying  and it was obscene, how much he seemed to enjoy that. He would press me up against walls and tables , fingers choking the breath out of my lung, just so he could see me struggle and push back.

He fed off from every negative reaction I offered him and it had taken me a long long time that the way to beat him was to become passive, unresponsive. I would go limp in his arms, stare at him blankly as he tried to manhandle me and that…that had pissed him off. Because that meant I wasn’t playing his game anymore.

If the prey wasn’t playing, the game wasn’t fun anymore. It was drab.

Boring.

And I knew that Jungkook kept raising the stakes, kept tightening the noose around my neck….just to bring that girl out again. The one that had wanted to put up a fight . The one that wanted to mouth off even with the muzzle of a gun pressed against her head. The one who would spit in his face in front of all his associates, even if it earned her a vicious strike of his hand across her face.

I shuddered. They weren’t memories I liked reliving.

Well, if that was who he wanted, I’d make sure he would never see her again.

The door opening made me jump and Hoseok came in , with a wide grin on his face.

“Baby…. Your guest for the night.” He said softly and I peered over his shoulders, my heart and mind grinding to a halt when I caught sight of what had to be the most breathtakingly beautiful man on the face of the planet.

I felt my heart begin to pound, fear taking over because this wasn’t okay. Not really. I was okay with old, creepy and disgusting , not able to get it up for more than ten minutes.

I wasn’t okay with someone who looked like they stepped right out of the latest issue of GQ.

Hoseok left quickly, closing the door behind him and the man stepped into the light, the brightness lighting up his perfect features even more. I felt my throat go dry, and fought the urge to get up and run. Growing up as the daughter of a mobster , I’d learned how to trust my instincts over appearances.

And right now, every single one of those instincts screamed at me that this man was absolutely dangerous.

“Well, you are beautiful. I’ll give you that. “ He said casually.

“Thank you.” I said stiltedly, watching as he tugged on his tie, pulling it off his neck deftly . Instead of tossing it aside , he wrapped it a bunch of times around his wrist over and over as he smiled at me.

“Don’t thank me yet. The only reason I like beautiful things is because of how easily they break.” He smiled.  “ I haven’t been with a virgin in a while…. I miss the screams.”

And there it was the full blown panic that came with stark terror. I crawled back on the bed, staring as he moved closer and there was no mistaking the look on his face, the harsh grip of his hand on my ankle telling me that I was going to regret every one of the choices that led me here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hoseok wasn’t at the airport.” Jungkook observed casually, glancing at Yoongi as the latter finished cleaning his gun carefully, eyes fixed on his weapon with utmost concentration.

“He’s holding some sort of auction tonight. Some chick …” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook hummed. It was not the kind of thing he was interested in. Anonymous bids were often boring : actresses or female idols past their prime, desperate to make some money to survive. He had no interest in those but he was a little peeved that Hoseok hadn’t told him anything about it.

Hoseok was one of Jungkook’s most trusted friends. He was almost as powerfully rich as Jungkook and the only reason Jungkook reigned supreme was because Hoseok had no interest in challenging him for the throne. Hoseok was dangerous and cunning and loyal and Jungkook was grateful to have him on his side and he had hoped to see him before leaving. Just to ask him to keep an eye on Elena.

He grimaced, hating himself.

God, he couldn’t go two hours without thinking of her. It fucked with his head, the amount of space she took up inside him. Jungkook , for all his wealth and power, was driven solely by his need to prove himself. He wanted to be powerful and terrifying yes, but more than that , he wanted people to know.

He wanted people to look him in the eye and acknowledge him for what he was : the most dangerous man in the country. He liked seeing that fear, that worship, that admiration. He got off on it. He wanted it , craved it and for some reason he craved it more from her , than anyone else.

And instead of giving him what he wanted, instead of begging on her knees for mercy, instead of licking his shoes and begging for him to let her live….she ignored him. She looked at him with defiance and pride, her chin straight and her back unbending, her gaze locked right on him like she was his fucking equal….

And Jungkook, he’d taken a lot of insults. Taken more than his fair share of hits in life …..

But when she looked at him like that , like he was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe….

Fuck it drove him wild with fury.

It made him want to teach her a fucking lesson, to remind her that he owned her because he owned everything. To break her down, snuff out the flames of defiance that burned so bright in those ember eyes… Take her into his bed and brand her with his body. Till she was on the floor, on her knees covered in his spit and cum begging for mercy….

Because no one looked at Jeon Jungkook like that and lived to tell the tale..

“Seokjin’s here. Landed in Korea a couple of hours ago. ” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook smiled a bit at that. He loved his older brother, technically a step brother and growing up he had only saw him when he visited his mother in China. That meant a couple of months a year and now as adults,  a bit more often because Seokjin loved Jungkook and liked to visit him often.

Seokjin was a celebrity trainer, working with actors and athletes and he did a good amount of modeling as well. He was rich,  handsome and well liked and the only thing that gave away the Jeon blood in him was the fact that he was a sexual sadist.

The face of an angel with a devilish streak, he had a penchant for sadism and inflicting pain on his partners and while Jungkook didn’t particularly enjoy indulging him, he knew there were women who were into that and usually had them arranged for when Seokjin dropped by in Korea. His hyung’s visit seldom lasted more than a few weeks at a time and it was a pity that he would miss out one whole week of it .

But the issue in Switzerland was a little pressing and Jungkook had to be there in person to sort it out.

He leaned back against the seat, staring out of the window, sighing.

“An unsullied dove ….What the fuck is this shit..” Yoongi muttered and Jungkook turned, curious.

“What?”

“Hoseok’s been hyping up some new girl for the auction and Seokjin hyung’s bidding on her.”

Jungkook laughed at that.

“Jungkook…..” Yoongi’s voice is completely stunned, his eyes confused as he looks up at Jungkook.”  Its Elena.”

Jungkook’s thought process came to a grinding halt.

There’s a sound between his ears, a dull rushing sound like the wind in a storm and he can’t quite comprehend what he just heard. Even Namjoon who had been buried in his laptop , looked up then, tugging an airpod out of his ear.

“Wait…did you say Elena?” His eyes were wide , lips parted in shock. Yoongi and Namjoon exchanged glances, no doubt bracing themselves for the explosion that was to follow.

Jungkook took a deep breath.

“Turn the fucking plane around.”

That jolted Namjoon out of his stunned stupor..

“Turn-? Jungkook what…. We’re on a fourteen hour flight-“ Namjoon began but the look on Jungkook’s face made him stop.

“DID I FUCKING STUTTER?”

Namjoon swore.

“Fucking hell… alright just calm the fuck down, Jesus…just put a fucking bullet in that girl’s head and spare us all the headache fuck…” He growled, unbuckling his seat belt and rushing to the cockpit and Yoongi groaned.

“ Let me guess you want me to get in touch with someone in Seoul and ask Hoseok to hold off on letting Seokjin near her…”

Jungkook glared at him.

“If you already know that why the fuck are you still here…” He growled and Yoongi gave him a look.

“Just tell her you’re in love with her and let us live, Jeon Jungkook.”

In love….. what the fuck….

He glared at Yoongi’s back, his asinine words making him madder. God he wanted to crush someone’s skull into dust with his bare hands.

And right now, in his head , that skull belonged to Jung fucking Hoseok.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 “What just happened?” I asked, frantic staring at the door as Hoseok’s men casually led a fuming Seokjin away while the man himself stared at me, looking pale as parchment.

“ Jungkook found out.” He said shortly and I felt my heart drop although I was half relieved because there had been something insane in Kim Seokjin’s gaze when he’d reached for me , a cruel glint of hunger that told me he would have hurt me really badly if Hoseok hadn’t barged into the room , frantic and worried.

He had given Seokjin a wide smile and then, “ I’m so sorry. We were waiting on her blood results and turns out she has a…. well, certain occupational disease that is very infectious.”

Seokjin’s mouth had dropped open even wider than mine.

“I thought she was a fucking virgin.” He had snapped, and I flinched at how cold and furious he had sounded.

But apparently there was a reason this whole thing had happened.

“What do you mean Jungkook knows? What does that mean?” I asked frantically, fear taking over.

“ He’s heading back here… He wants to see you.”

I felt my entire body go ice cold as I shook my head…

“No…fucking no bring Seokjin back here , he can fuck me that was the fucking deal, Hobi, please don’t../…”

“Elena , I’m so fucking sorry.. Seokjin…he’s fucked in the head…. He likes hurting his whores, likes making them bleed and he would have fucking destroyed you…”

I gaped at him horrified.

“What?!” I hissed shaking my head in disbelief.

“He’s Jungkook’ stepbrother. I’ve arranged whores for him before, I knew he was a little crazy but I’d never seen him before and I didn’t know he was the Kim Seokjin…fuck he outbid everyone and fucker looks like a fucking angel, how the fuck was I supposed to know he’s unhinged? Thankfully, I messaged Yoongi and …. Fuck… Listen… I know I paid for your sister’s surgery but you’re going to have to pay me back….”

I felt my body convulse in rebellion.

“I can’t.. You know I fucking can’t…”

“I can’t make an enemy out of Jungkook…. I can’t.” Hoseok shook his head. “ You can get out of here now if you want but I’d advise you to stay. If you run it’s only going to make Jungkook angrier.”

“WHAT DID I FUCKING DO TO HIM?!!!” I screamed, feeling my composure crumble into smithereens. “WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE WANT FROM ME?!!”

Hoseok flinched, stepping back and holding his hands up.

“Whether I want to or not, I answer to Jungkook.  I shouldn’t have done this in the first place , I’m sorry Elena.” He shook his head and stepped back like the coward that he was and I wanted to hurt him. To shake him and ask him to fucking remember who I was. That I had nothing to do with my father’s sins . That I had been a fucking marionette in his hands, had wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

I stared at him in disbelief.

“So much for being a friend…” I whispered.

His jaw tightened. But he didn’t look guilty. None of them ever did. It was like guilt didn’t exist in their world. They did what they wanted to whoever they wanted , whenever they wanted and they got away with it because that bastard’s word was law. What Jeon Jungkook wanted, he got.

“I’ll get your clothes sent in.”

I watched him leave, the door slamming shut behind him and sagged against the bed, staring at myself. What had just happened?

Was I born to endless misery and misfortune?

Couldn’t I catch a fucking break?

I’d agreed to sell myself hadn’t I? Would have even let Seokjin hurt me if that was what he wanted. Because it was one night. It was one night of this…whatever the hell this was and then freedom. That was the deal.

The door opened again and I stared as a young girl brought me a pile of my clothes neatly folded.

“Do you work here?” I said sharply.

She blinked before bowing her head.

“Yes, mistress.”

I scoffed.

“Don’t call me mistress , I’m here to get fucked, just like you. Tell me does Jungkook ever use the women here.” I demanded.

She looked trapped, glancing at the door, clearly wanting to run .

“Tell me.” I snapped and she flinched.

“I..uh..yes. Sometimes.” She said softly.

“Can you tell whoever fucks him next to kick him in the fucking balls?”

The girl bowed deeply and all but ran out and I sighed, feeling myself shaking. Jungkook was on the way here and I wanted to yell and scream and rave at him but I knew that was exactly what he wanted. I wanted to deny him the satisfaction …wanted to act all cool and composed in front of him but it was impossible…

Because I hadn’t realized just how tired I was of this whole thing, till right this moment, when the end had been in sight. I was supposed to get my two billion won pay off all the debt , give Jisoo the rest of the money and disappear. I was so tired, so tired of this life I’d gotten trapped into, slaving over for hours on end just to afford a couple of meals a day. No friends, no boyfriends, no hope of a future …..

The door banged open and I jumped, crawling back when I recognized the man who had just entered.

“Yoongi-“

“Jungkook wants to see you.” He ground out and I swallowed.

“I need to get dressed. Please just wait outside.” I said shakily.

And then the door opened further and a tall looming shadow stepped in familiar and vomit inducing.

Jungkook looked livid, piercing glinting through the dimply lit room and I stared at him. He was dressed in a tight black t shirt, he sleeves stretched thin over his biceps and the tattoos stark against his skin.

“Leave us.” He said softly and Yoongi moved away to the door leaving me alone with the devil himself. I cursed myself for not putting at least my panties on, I was naked underneath this shirt and although it was big it left nothing to the imagination.

Jungkook’s eyes raked over my form before resting on my face.

“You think you’re smart enough to outsmart me, Elena?” He whispered softly.

I swallowed.

“Send you brother back in. He can fuck me and I’ll pay you back.”

Jungkook hummed, stepping closer and grabbing my clothes from the bed, he grabbed the plain white bra and the pastel pink underwear and then to my complete and utter mortification he brought the clothing up to his face, breathing in .

“Fucking pervert!!!” I screamed, feeling the action like a physical touch and wanting to claw his eyes out and the smirk on his face told me that this was exactly what he wanted but I was too fucking gone to care.

“If you want me to be a whore, fine. I’ll be a whore. But on my terms…” I spat out and he shook his head, laughing.

“I don’t just want you to be a whore, Elena. I want everyone to know that you are one…” He dropped my clothes and moved closer, holding a hand out. “ Come here.”

I stared at the inked fingers, adorned with sterling silver rings and bracelets with the motifs of his gang. I shook my head.

“No. I’m not playing this game with you.” I turned my face away.

His hand shot out gripping my upper arm with enough strength to bruise and I screamed, agony shooting up my arm and shoulders as he dragged me off the bed and onto the floor. I landed hard, hips and elbows bruising from impact and I stared at him in disbelief.

“I’ve been to gentle with you. You’ve forgotten your fucking place.” He bent over and grabbed me by my hair, yanking me to my feet so hard that it felt like my scalp had been ripped away from my skull.

“Okay…okay…Okay Jungkook..just…!!” I said softly, flinching because my pain tolerance was almost zero and Jungkook’s grip was so hard that my eyes were beginning to water now. He let me go, grabbing my panties off the floor and tossing them at me.

“I’m going to count to five. Put those on and get out.”

He walked out of the door and I stumbled a little fumbling with the fabric before quickly, slipping my legs in and yanking it up to my waist. I made to put on something else but his voice came, loud and impatient.

“Get the fuck out here.”

I walked out of the door and he was standing there next to Hoseok. I couldn’t meet either of their gazes , hating how they had so much power over my life. I stared at the floor. It was tempting to yell at them and scream but that never led anywhere.

“ I’ve asked them to stop the payment on the Hospital bill. Seeing as Elena hasn’t kept her end of the bargain.”

I felt my breath hitch at that, willing down the tears as I glared at him.

“What do you want?” I snapped. “ Tell me who you want me to fuck…. I’ll do it. Let’s get this over with so you can go back to whatever sewer you fucking climbed out of. ….”

Hoseok’s breath caught like he couldn’t believe what I’d just said and the look in his eye was a warning but I was sick of this. Sick of them all.

Jungkook turned to Hoseok with a laugh.

“You see hyung? See why I can’t let her go? If I let her scot free, everyone’s going to think I’m a pushover….that any worthless bitch can talk to me any way she wants and get away with it….” He shook his head, staring at me with a glint in his eye. “ I’m not going to choose. They are. You think you can charm your way into Hoseok’s heart and get special treatment? You think you’re ready to be a whore, Elena? Let me show you how a real whore gets treated in Hoseok’s club.”

He gripped my wrist, yanking me behind him as he stalked off down the narrow corridor that opened up into the club. I let myself get dragged out into the club dismally aware of the fact that I was wearing nothing but Hoseok’s shirt. I could feel eyes on me but I kept mine on the back of Jungkook’s head as he dragged me all the way to the front. I knew what he was going to do and at this point I was just numb.

There was no point reasoning with the devil.

I glared at him as he pointed at the stage. “ Get up there.” He whispered harshly.

I stared back at him, not moving. I saw Jungkook’s jaw clench.

“Either you go up there by yourself, with your clothes on. Or I carry you up there, after stripping you naked. What’s it going to be? ”

I glared at him, pursing my lips before climbing up using the small stair in the side. I moved to the center, right in front of the stage lights, so the rest of the room would disappear. I had no wish to see any of the bastards in the room.

“I think all of you recognize this little beauty here, don’t you?” Jungkook’s voice was cheerful, friendly even and I bit my lips, fists clenched. “ Well, if you don’t let me tell you . This is Gong Hyo Suk’s daughter. Remember that bastard? He put a hit out on my father. Killed him and my mom on the night I was supposed to be marrying his fucking daughter. A daughter who later called off the wedding, because I was too poor now, to give her the life she deserved. ”

I felt the familiar ice cold guilt in my vein. I was seventeen, I wanted to scream. I was seventeen and all I did was say what my father asked me to say, do what my father asked me to do.

“ That was nine fucking years ago… and you know what I told myself…. I told myself, that a greedy little bitch like this, doesn’t deserve shit.” He laughed. “ If money’s what she values the most, then the only thing she deserves is to be treated like the whore she is.”

“Why don’t you guys tell me, how much money you’d be willing to spend, to fuck her? Come on, Hobi’s been treating you guys so well lets help him make some money tonight… be generous. ”

I could barely hear what they were calling out but when Jungkook climbed onto the stage next to me, I jumped. Moving back instinctively, I winced when brought a forearm around my throat nearly choking me as he dragged up against his body.

“90 million won….That’s a lot.” He grinned. “ Jihan hyung….. that was you right? You’re gonna pay 90 million won for her?”

I felt my heart race, it was a lot. More than enough for the Hospital Bills, would even leave extra to get a decent apartment somewhere... I grabbed his wrist as it pressed into my throat, trying to pull his hand off me but he just wrapped his free hand around my waist, wrapping his entire body around mine and chuckling into my hair.

Jungkook pressed his head against mine and I froze, hating the close contact.

“Okay…but since I’m feeling a bit left out here…Why don’t I pitch in… 500 Won.” Jungkook said loud and clear.

I froze. An eerie silence fell over the club, laughter stilling and the clink of glasses slowing down.

What.

I struggled to get away from his but his hold tightened.

“Anyone else?” He called out. “ Come on… Not even thousand? Surely you think this one here’s worth a thousand won? Aren’t you going to outbid me?”

No one responded of course they didn’t. Jungkook’s anger was palpable and no one was going to get on his wrong side …..

“Ahh… is that it then? Bid’s going to close for 500 won then…. Hear that baby?” He whispered against my ears and I swallowed. “ 90, million won to five hundred won in a few seconds… What does that tell you?”

“It tells me you’re a fucking psychopath in love with your own voice… Get off me.” I hissed.

“No. What it tells you is that only I get to decide how much that body of yours is worth, not you. . You don’t get to go sell your fucking body behind my back for two billion won and then pay off all your debts and ride off into the sunset, that is not how this works….”

I went limp in his arms fighting tears because he never played fair. Never.

“Hear that Hoseok-ah… I win her for the night for 500 won…fair and square…. Is that alright?” He called out into the darkness and I felt the first inkling of dread begin to seep in.

“No.. No… get off me.” I hissed and he laughed, dragging me off the stage with ease. I screamed, kicking out in disbelief.

Jungkook grinned at me, before grabbing both my arms and yanking them behind me, and I whimpered, unable to move as he easily pulled me along to the door that opened into the hallway. Behind us I heard Hoseok’s voice.

“Jungkook, don’t be impulsive. Think about whatever you’re going to do.”

I flinched at that, panic building.

“He’s not going to do anything. I’ll fucking kill him if he touches me , I-“

“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch.” He shook me hard till my teeth rattled and I sobbed out.

“Jungkook…” Hoseok warned but he merely snarled.

“I know what I’m doing hyung, just…. Don’t disturb us. And make sure everyone here knows that she’s open for business.” It was loud enough to carry through the club and I felt humiliation burn my throat, acrid like acid.

I froze in disbelief.

“Jungkook …” Hoseok’s voice held a tone of reproach.

“ And tell them that her body is amazing. Tell them she spent the night with me , the best fuck I’ve ever had , mouth made for cock.”

I stared straight ahead as he pulled me all the way to the room we had left earlier and I tripped when he shoved me inside, landing on my hands and knees . I quickly rolled back around to land on my ass, crawling back as he slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside.

He stared down at me, mouth grim.

“You do owe me a wedding night. I was so ready to fuck your tight cunt, nine years ago… I think I’ve waited long enough yeah.”

I stared at him in disbelief. I knew exactly what he wanted me to do, to yell and scream and protest and fight so he could get off and forcing me…. Fucking psychopath.

I took a deep breath and nodded.

“If you pay for my sister in laws bills, and give me an apartment sure. “ I shrugged. “You’re not any different from any of the bastards here. I don’t give a damn which one of you idiots wants to rut into me like the absolute animal that you are…. I don’t care…” I said softly.

“you don’t? Really? You want me to tell you what your brother said when one of my men put a gun into his mouth…. He begged for his life…said he had a kid on the way….” Jungkook laughed, shaking his head. “I told him it was better than what his father did…. My sister was six months pregnant when his lieutenant gunned her down on the streets.”

I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself.

“Why are you telling me this…” I snapped.

“Because she didn’t deserve it did she, Elena? She didn’t fucking deserve to die like that , like a dog on the street when she had nothing to do with any of this…. She didn’t deserve it.” He growled, bending down and gripping my chin hard.

“Maybe she did deserve it.” I spat out. “ If I deserve to be here, maybe your sister deserved to die too. “

He snarled, hand flying to my hair and dragging me up off the floor in one sharp yank. I whimpered as he pushed me on the bed, before climbing on top of me. I felt like every bone in my body was about to snap in two, the weight of him unbearable on me.

“I won the bid tonight…. I won it fair and square… You signed the waiver didn’t you…that you agreed to the auction…I won and I’m going to fucking collect.” He growled, and I kicked out, trying to buck him off of my body.

“Get off me.” I hissed. “ I’m not letting you fuck me for 500 won.”

“How about for your Jisoo then?” He whispered and I went still.

“What?”

He chuckled, reaching down and I felt my pulse pound as he pulled his phone out, dialing quickly and turning on the speakers.

Yoongi’s voice made me go ice cold. Everyone knew what Yoongi did for Jungkook.

“Daehwan’s wife is in a hospital room in Yongsan. Hobi’s got the details. I think she’s served her purpose.”

“No!! JUNGKOOK NO!!” I  screamed , thrashing so hard my head began to spin but he grunted pressing down into me harder.

“Are you serious? I’m not home yet… I can take care of it tonight.” Yoongi said, voice casual and I sobbed, shaking my head in sheer terror.

“Okay… I’ll behave.. I promise.. please just don’t…”

Jungkook hummed.

“Well, that was easy… Yoongi-yah… why don’t you stay on the phone yeah…. Going to get that wedding night I’m owed and if my baby doesn’t co operate you know what to do, yeah?”  

I bit my lips, glaring into the sheets as he gripped my waist, pulling me up.

“Ass up like the bitch that you are, baby.” He whispered and I felt my entire body shudder in disgust. It was worse because I hadn’t done this before. Didn’t know what to expect. But I couldn’t let him know that. If Jungkook knew that I was a virgin, I could just imagine how much fun he’d have with that info.

Hands gripped my wrists, pinning them to the bed and I turned my face away when I felt the press of his lips on my cheeks. He gripped both my wrists with one hand, keeping them pinned over my head and I flinched when I felt his fingers pulling the fabric of my panties aside, just enough for the blunt head of his cock to press against my slit.

“Yoongi, you there?” Jungkook said softly and Yoongi grunted over the phone. I felt my face flame in embarrassment.

“You’re a sick bastard but I’m used to it. What’s up?” he said casually.

“Remember how we used to wonder just how tight Elena’s cunt was… back when we were in school.”

Fucking monster, I thought in disbelief. I hate him I hate him I hate him….

“Good times…” Yoongi chuckled lightly .

Jungkook pushed into me in one hard thrust and pain shot straight up my spine, my insides burning like he’d fucked me with a knife and not his body. I couldn’t stop the cry of agony that got torn of me, my eyes tearing up and tears spilling over onto my cheeks.

“Damn Jungkook, she okay?” Yoongi’s chuckle made me want to claw his face off, and just the urge to kill was growing inside me.

“Well, I can confirm that it is, in fact just as tight as we thought…” He grunted, thrusting into me at a pace that was inhumane, every push and drag of him rubbing my insides raw and I bit down on the sheets under me, afraid that I would do something absolutely humiliating, like beg him to stop.

“Good, you should let me take that tight ass for a ride someday then. With her permission of course…. I’m a gentleman after all. Big on consent.” He laughed and I swallowed the urge to tell him that I would puncture his balls with a switchblade if he came anywhere near me.  

“Oh, she’s going to do whatever I ask her to….aren’t you baby…” He grunted, “ Turn around so I can see you.”

He pulled out of me, his weight lifting off my body as he moved away. I couldn’t move, limbs numb and insides throbbing in pain . His palm landed on my thigh, hard and the sharp sting of it made me jump.

“I said turn around, I want to see your face when I fuck you.” Jungkook growled. I stayed limp, breathing hard and he grunted impatient, fingers sinking into my hair , yanking me to my knees and the movement made my legs scream in protest.

“How’s she so quiet? You fucked the voice out of her, kook-ah?” Yoongi asked amused and Jungkook pulled me by the hair, dragging me to the center and pushing me down till my head landed on the pillow.

“Hyung you should see her right now, all fucked out …. Like she’s never had a dick in her before.” He shook his head, “ Fucking slut. Take that off and hold yourself open for me.”

I stared at him, uncomprehending and he grabbed both my hands, placing them on my knees.

“Grab your knees and pull your legs back… So I can fuck that tight cunt the way I want to.” He said slowly, like I was a dog he was trying to train and I stared at him , defiantly.

“ Go to hell.” I whispered.

Yoongi’s laughter came from somewhere to the right.

“Your dirty talk needs work, Kook ah… Tell her she’s a precious little kitten and she makes you feel really good…. Bitches love that shit…”

Jungkook hovered over me, grabbing the back of my thighs and spreading them wide enough to make me whimper in pain.

“Is that so babygirl? You want me to tell you that? That you make daddy’s cock feel good?” He cooed, nudging the tip against me again and I had never hated anyone so much in my life. I stared up at his face, and he smiled at me, a cheeky little grin that made his bunny teeth stand out and for a second he looked so deceptively angelic and the glimmer of his piercing caught my eye.

I couldn’t help but swallow, gaze trained on the glint of metal on his tongue.

“You like that?” He grinned suddenly, sticking his tongue out for me to see, I felt my eyes widen at how sinfully good he looked .” Hyung she likes my tongue piercing.”

“Show her how it feels on her clit.” Yoongi laughed and I could barely fully process what I heard before Jungkook was crawling down my body, arms, curling on my thighs and yanking me onto his tongue .

I felt the press of his tongue on my slit, licking right into me and the jolt of pleasure was so unexpected, the pleasure so unwanted and yet so overwhelming and I couldn’t stop the way my body thrashed against the streets, lips parted as I practically mewled out in pleasure.

“Definitely a kitten…” Yoongi called out and I shuddered as Jungkook slipped two fingers into me , the ice cold press of his ring inside me making me jump. I wanted to pull away, grab his hair and yank him off but I couldn’t because it was

“Next time I’ll put the dick piercing in too, yeah? Fuck you with a bit of metal on my cock so you can feel that up there…. ” He laughed into my thighs and I screamed when he bit into the flesh there , hard.

“I’m getting bored… Either turn on facetime so I can at least jerk off to this , or I’m hanging up…” Yoongi called out .

“Hyung she clenches down on me every time she hears your voice… Just stay on for a few more minutes yeah, she tastes so fucking good, I’m gonna cum soon….” Jungkook added another finger, slipping in deep before spreading them apart inside me. I whimpered when he pushed his tongue in between the wet digits, licking into my walls and I could feel the ball of his piercing drag against my walls, ice cold and hard.

Was it fucked up that I did clench down on him again, my body apparently a slave to my base desires even as my mind screamed that he was the absolute worst bastard on the face of the planet.

“Elena, you owe me a blowjob at least for this…” Yoongi called out and I glared at the phone.

“I’ll bite your fucking dick off if you come anywhere near me.” I snapped.

“Fuck, I could get off just to that mouthy fuckhole of hers…..” Yoongi grunted.

Jungkook pulled away, climbing back up over me and lightly slapping my breasts.

“Now, how about you open that mouth and let me fuck it?”

Yoongi snorted from behind us and Jungkook glared at the phone before glaring at me again.

“Well?”

“You want to know how hard I can bite?” I said sharply, the pleasure ebbing away into nothing and resentment taking it place, the momentarily physicality of the situation fading and the reminder of who he was and who I was entering my sex addled brain.

“No.. You’re right…. But you know what, I’m not feeling it anymore. I was right.. you really aren’t qualified to be my whore. Your body…it’s frigid like a fucking popsicle…such a fucking turn off. ” He reached over and hung up on the phone.

“Now…”he whispered, leaning in closer and I yelped, when his fingers closed over my throat..” Shut your mouth and take what I give you like a grateful bitch.”

I swallowed when he pushed into me again, his pace steady as he fucked into me, eyes closed and I realized that he was almost fully dressed having just unbuttoned himself enough to get his cock out.

When he stiffened, spilling into me his eyes blew open and he locked eyes with me, wide eyed and for one horrible second he looked young and vulnerable and hurt.

I blinked as he pulled out, the sticky warm mess of his cum dripping down my inner thighs and onto the sheets.

“Well, that was much worse than I thought it would be.”  He said and I stayed on the bed as he grabbed his phone and buttoned himself back up.

He smirked at me and then reached into his pocket.

I quickly pulled myself together, ignoring the aches and pains and getting to my knees before reaching for my dress on the bed. it was kind of pointless because I still had Hoseok’s shirt on and I wasn’t going to take that off in front of Jungkook.

“Well, I’m a man of my word , Elena so…here you go..just as we discussed.” He tossed a coin on the bed and I stared at the engraved 500 on the shiny surface, feeling my rage swell inside me.

“If you still want to work out a payment plan for your sister’s bills …. Why don’t you come to my office tomorrow?” He tossed his card on the bed before  moving away to the door.

Fucking bastard.

Author’s note : My whole life is filled with regrets . 

[gyllenhaalstories]

YOU WON’T PLAY, YOU’RE NO FUN — PROF!CHRIS

summary: chris evans is your professor with whom you’ve had an affair with since the beginning of the semester. you meet with him over zoom with your fellow teammates to discuss your project, but you can’t seem to get into the right mindset. instead of providing the group with clever comments and ideas, all you do is test the limits of chris’ patience and self control.

warnings: don’t have sex with your prof please, mentions of online classes, smut including: established dom/sub relationship & teacher/student relationship (abuse of power used strictly as a joke, they are both 18+ and consensual), degradation, masturbation & mutual masturbation, edging. MINORS DON’T READ NOR INTERACT.

word count: 1500

notes: rail me daddy :) i’m a hoe for teacher/student if you can’t tell already. i do keep it vague by not mentioning any majors, don’t worry! it’s my first time writing for chris, so please, be kind!!! i hope you enjoy reading this mess!!!! ily <3

gif credits: capsgrantrogers blessing us with this low quality webcam goodness.

“Miss /Y/L/N, would you mind staying a little longer? I need to talk to you.” Chris’ voice resonated as your classmates went quiet before they waved their cameras goodbye and left the two of you alone.

Uh oh.

“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” By the time you were done with your question, you noticed that his face was frozen. “Mister Evans! Chris?! I think there’s an issue I can’t — hear you.” You sighed and rolled your eyes. You seriously needed to get that Internet connection checked. You had your hand on your laptop, ready to close it up when you heard the familiar noise of a video call, but this time it was a private conversation.

“Don’t want anybody to walk in on us, right?” Chris winked and smirked at you. You had a flashback of that one time you hooked up in his office and realized his door was left ajar when you could hear the secretary of the department arguing with the printer. You thanked your guardian angel (who must had been very disappointed) that you were just on your knees blowing him off, and that nothing too serious was going on.

You laughed, for a second you thought you were in trouble.

“What was that all about?” Chris questioned, his smirk disappeared and was replaced by a dark expression.

“I have no clue what you’re referring too.” You shrugged lightly and looked at the screen, wishing he had chosen another shirt that showcased his tattoos. You were lucky enough to see his arms from the short sleeves, you felt as aroused as royal men back in the day when they saw a woman’s ankles.

Chris clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Oh, really? There is no explanation to the attitude you’ve been giving your teammates and me all morning?”

You sighed again, loud enough for him to hear you. “They’re idiots and I’m sick of their shit. They’re not doing anything on the project yet they show off in front of you just to   —“

“Got it, they’re dumb and you’re smart.” He put the emphasis on the last few words. “Tell me, Miss, if you’re that smart, how come you’ve made the very stupid decision to be rude to me as well?”

You swallowed thickly. You were just so pissed off, exhausted from the all nighter you had to do in order to complete the requirements for today’s class. “Chris, look, you know it wasn’t about you...” You heard him cough. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“I’d call you a good girl, but good girls don’t talk back and they certainly don’t act so bratty. What a potty mouth, you swore in front of everybody. Do I have to teach you manners too? I’m afraid that’s not listed on my tasks as your professor, too bad.”

“I said I was sorry! You know how much I hate them!”

“Do I have to give you a bad grade for not cooperating? Not everybody is as understanding as me, you need to learn that.”

He sounded so arrogant, so condescending. As much as you hated it, it turned you on. You were all squirmy on your chair, and he caught up on that.

“Tell me, what’s on your mind, princess? Why are you on the edge?”

You looked up through your lashes, letting out a complaint. That fucker. The last time you met, which was over a week ago, he had an emergency and had to leave his apartment to go on campus. How convenient, you had not finished and you were left breathless and worked up on his bed. He made you promise not to touch yourself without permission on his way out. He knew just how impatient you could get. All the needy texts you sent him while he was looking over his other classes during an exam; all the begging you did over the phone while he insisted on doing small talk.

“You won’t play with me,” you pouted at the screen. “You’re no fun.”

He chuckled, his voice sounded lower than usual while he sat up on his chair. He loved this game with you, probably as much as you did if not more.

You noticed his arm disappeared out of the frame. You’d do ten other team works with your stupid colleagues if it meant you’d be the one to take care of his hard on at that very moment.

“Oh, baby wanna have fun? Is that it? You should have told me sooner!” He cleared his throat when he heard you sigh again, giving you a warning. “Get those fingers nice and wet for me.”

You obeyed, sucking on two fingers of your dominant hand. You picked up on the back and forth movements of his arm, he was palming at his crotch. You caught a glimpse of him standing up   — he was in tight Calvin Klein boxers   —  and sitting back down, his cock freed from his clothes. “I’ve been good, Sir. So good.”

He nodded slowly, after spitting in his hand and starting to fist his cock. “Oh, really?”

You nodded frantically. “I haven’t touched myself since you left,” you pulled your hand away from your mouth, a string of saliva fell down your chin. “I’ve been so wet for you, Sir. You’re all I’ve been thinking about.”

“Then think about my fingers rubbing your clit.” He groaned, the speed of his arm motions increased.

You jerked on your chair at the contact of your fingers, your panties were soaked from your arousal. “Sir!” You moaned out when you circled faster against the bundle of nerves.

“You’re so fucked up for me, you’d rather cum on your fingers than on my face, huh?” You felt tears pooling in your eyes. “Stop touching yourself and answer me.”

You pulled your hand away, showing it to the camera so he believed you. “I want to cum so bad, Sir! Please, just once! And I’ll wait until we meet again. I need it!”

“And I need to fuck that tight little cunt of yours and you don’t hear me complainin’.” His bicep flexed in his tight shirt, his breathing got heavier. “I waited for you the entire week. I didn’t text you in the middle of the night begging like a desperate slut.” He nodded, indicating you could start rubbing again.

You moaned loudly, throwing your head back. He was edging you, again.

“Eyes on me, Baby. Need to see you.”

It took so much energy just to keep your eyes open.

“Faster.” He growled, he was so close too. You could feel it, even if he was far away.

“Sir, please!”

“Stop, stop right fucking now.” He pulled away from his swollen cock at the same time as you did. “I won’t tolerate attitude like this again, you heard me?” You nodded, mouthed a ‘yes’. “I don’t want to repeat myself. You’re such a dumb little baby sometimes, I’ll probably have to.” The more he mocked you, the more you needed to touch yourself again. “Next time you act like a bitch in my class, you’ll regret it.” You never took his threats lightly. The first, and last, time that you did, you ended up bent over his knee with the belt of his dress pants spanking your ass red like the ink from the pen he used to grade papers

“I’ll count to ten. At ten, you’ll...”

“I’ll cum!” You spoke excitedly.

“Yes, Babygirl. You’ll get to cum.” He licked his lips and stroked his beard, his hand holding his sensitive cock. “Ready?”

You replied with even more enthusiasm and he started to count up.

“Slowly, 1, 2, 3...” He swallowed thickly. “Add more pressure now, 4, 5, 6,” he tightened his grip around his cock. “Faster, 7, 8, 9...” he jerked himself up at the same speed as you. “Now, cum for me. Make a mess like you’d do on my cock. That’s right, cum for me, Princess.”

The knot in your stomach finally snapped and you released yourself on your hand. You were panting and clenching around nothing, wishing you were with Chris right now.

He growled loudly as he released himself on his hand and shirt. “Look what you did to me, Baby.” He sat up just enough to show you, causing you to laugh at the sight of his messed up top.

In exchange, you showed him your slick coated fingers before you licked them clean. Blood rushed to his cock again, but he took a deep breath to calm down. “All good now?”

“Yes! Thank you, Sir.” You smiled, content and satisfied.

He wiped his hand clean with his shirt, after he removed it and let you admire his broad chest and inked drawings. “I’m giving you extra homework.”

Your smile disappeared and you squinted, mentally preparing for more readings or an extra essay on how good he fucked you. It would be your third or fourth, you ran out of synonyms to explain that he made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

“Take a shower and a nap, I’ll get to this meeting and meet you back home, okay?”

Your face lit up again, and you clapped happily.

“See? I can be fun when I want to.”

[brilliantt]

Mouse - part one 

Summary: Maggie Shelby isn’t like her brothers or sister, being quiet and studious she often struggles to fit in. When money gets stolen and she is accused will she stick around and continue to be outcast in her family?

A/N: this is my first fic ever and im nervouss! l love reading peaky blinder fics and thought i’d give it a go. I plan on this being a series loosely based between series 3 and 4, loosely because I haven’t watched the series in a while and it won’t follow every single event. In this chapter we can see her close relationship with John, my fave Shelby boy :))

It was undeniable that Maggie - or Mags, as kept John insisting- was in fact a Shelby. While Finn could perhaps be mistaken with his ginger hair, inherited from their mother’s side, Maggie could almost be Ada’s or Tommy’s twin with her dark curls and blue eyes. While her appearance screamed SHELBY, her attitude whispered it. Maggie wasn’t loud like Arthur or confident like John. Nor was she determined like Tommy nor rebellious like Ada. And she certainly couldn't have fun like her twin. Maggie was a mouse in the Shelby zoo: uninteresting and forgettable. The way she liked it. For Maggie, if she could spend the day in her room, reading books and being out of the way from her family’s ruckus below, it was a day well spent.  

Of course this never sat well with her family, least of all John who was no doubt the most outgoing brother. John was undeniably her favourite brother, but right now as he dragged Maggie around the market, the one they’ve spent hours at already, she couldn’t help but wonder why she favoured him. The sound of her feet stumbling were drowned out by the bustle of deals and bargaining. Her vision blocked by the numerous products shoved in her face by the vendors. The maze cleared finally when John stopped at another stall. 

His lips pursed, the toothpick that Maggie hated jutted out as his eyes scanned the products in front of him. It wasn’t long before he huffed and turned to Maggie who he noticed was distracted by a scuffle between two young boys. He flicked her neck and muttered “You gonna help me pick or what?” Maggie brought her fingers to ease the slight pain in her neck and frowned at John, “She’s your wife John, shouldn’t you know what she likes?” Her eyes flickered on the assortment of jewellery in front of her. She scrunched her nose up. The glitter of the jewels gave her no interest and it was clear John felt the same.

“I know fuck all, Mags, i just know Esme likes shiny shit, and it’s your job to pick something she likes enough to get me out of the doghouse, eh?” He wiped his brow. Maggie stared at her brother, feeling annoyed that he dragged her out here, from her very busy schedule of staying in her room to make this decision, something he could easily do.  “So if I pick something, I can go back to the house and you’ll leave me alone?” John smirked at her, raised one eyebrow and nodded once. With a new determination, Maggie took a closer look at the array in front of her, trying to decide if Esme would prefer a ring or a necklace. “What did you even do?” She asked her eyes stilling on one ring in particular, a thick gold band with a dull black stone- one of the simple ones among the shine of gems. When John didn’t answer she turned to him with the ring in her hand, “Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged, and Maggie rolled her eyes. He frowned at the ring she chose.“That’s fucking ugly.”

Her mouth opened with shock, “You asked me to pick, John!” She cried in defense. He took the ring from her and studied it closer, he smirked again before saying  “Fuck sake, Arthur would have been better at this!” This made Maggie frown further and cross her arms, she resisted stomping her feet, remembering his constant teasing when she did it the last time.

“Don’t get it then.” She huffed.

“Nope, I’m getting it,” John grinned,  “and when Esme hates it and kicks me out, I can come and annoy you all day because it's your fault that you picked such an ugly ring.” Maggie pouted as John handed it to the vendor, who in turn placed it in a paper bag and accepted the coins handed to her. While she was annoyed that John bought it, she couldn't help but feel relief that they would now leave the market. 

As John led her away through the stalls, this time letting her walk without his hand gripping her arm, Maggie couldn’t help lingering by a stall selling beautiful leather journals. She watched the seller show one off to a smartly dressed man- something hard to come by in Small Heath- flicking through the blank pages and letting him feel the luxurious cover. Maggie sighed dreamily, while the jewellery didn’t hold her attention, these books certainly did, wishing she owned one since her last birthday, although she was too scared to ask due to the impressive price tag attached. 

“You want anything Mags?” The hand John placed on her back made her jump, she looked at him and shook her head to say no, letting John to guide her in the direction of the house, allowing herself one last glance at the stall. 

----

Maggie had managed to avoid everyone the next day, in favour of finishing her latest novel and studying from her school books. The sandwich that her Aunt Polly had made her for lunch stayed half eaten and forgotten next to her on her desk as the afternoon turned to evening. Maggie was so engrossed in her arithmetic book- the subject she favoured and excelled at- that she didn’t hear her door open behind her, with footsteps following. “I think you’re the only Shelby who’d rather fucking do schoolwork than drink a whiskey with the rest of us, Mags.” She jumped in her seat and gasped at the interruption, huffing at the ink she spilled on the page. “Well, I don’t like whiskey John.” Her brother stumbled back, placing one hand on his chest, the other hidden behind his back. “Fuck’s sake, you might as well rip my heart out and stomp on it.” Maggie rolled her eyes at her brother's antics and tried to hide the smile that only John could rise from her. 

“Did Esme kick you out? Is that why you’re bothering me again?” Maggie smirked cheekily at John. “Oi, watch yourself,” He pointed his finger at her, “actually Esme loved the ring and she was soo happy that she jumped right on top of me and-”

“Ah!” Maggie quickly put her hands to her ears, knowing the direction of the conversation, “Stop John! Stop talking right now!” Her brother grinned widely. He reached one hand to put her arms back down, “Since you picked the ring so well, I thought I’d get you a little reward.” Maggie eyed him skeptically, it wasn't often John gave thoughtful gifts. Normally the only ‘gifts’ he gave her were spiders on her bed or salt in her water. John’s other hand appeared from behind his back and he shoved a rectangular shaped package into Maggie’s lap. “What is it?” Her tone held only suspicion. Her fingers smoothed over the paper wrapping. At John’s nod of encouragement she carefully pulled at the wrapping until it came apart. The paper crinkled as she pushed it away to reveal a leather book she immediately recognised. Her mouth parted, fingers dancing over the high quality of the pages. “You know, most people would be saying thank you by now…” John knew when he saw Maggie ogling the book stall that this gift would be appreciated, however, what he didn’t expect was his sister to bound into him for the tightest hug he thought he’d ever receIved. It wasn’t a common occurrence for Maggie to initiate any sort of affection- leaving him and Arthur to treat her as if she was a doll and they were little five-year old girls. Knowing this, he quickly returned the embrace with an equal amount of force. “You like it then Mags?” 

“Like it? John this is the best thing I’ve ever been given...thank you!” John chuckled and couldn’t wait the gloat to the rest of his brothers. “But, it.. It must have cost a fortune John.” John pulled back from the hug and saw the worry in his sister’s eyes. “Yeah, well we don’t have to worry about that anymore, eh? The Shelby’s can afford to buy a hundred of them books and then a hundred more.” He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, “You want something you just gotta ask, right?” She nodded but John rolled his eyes knowing she wouldn’t ask for anything. He removed his hands and went to leave her room. 

“You know what this means though?” Maggie looked up from the new book at John who stood by the door. She frowned in confusion and shook her head, “No, what does this mean?”

John grinned. “It means that since I bought you this very nice present, I’m allowed to bother you as much as I like and you have to do exactly what I tell you until.. Well, until forever.” John left the room before Maggie could even comprehend what he said.

“What?” She said in disbelief, “That is not what that means!” She called out and when John did not respond her eyes widened, “John? That’s not what it means!” 

John chuckled to himself and finished walking down the stairs, looking forward to bugging his sister again tomorrow to find another apology gift for Esme. 

-NEXT-

[nottswhore]

Hey I don't know if this is too much of a hard request if it is you don't need to do it!! I wanted to request how Draco would react to having an autistic s/o! Any gender is fine! Like how they are sensitive to loud sounds or certain touch!! Like he could be all protective about them 🥺💚 also any house is fine!!! Thank you so much!

Thank you so much for the request! Now i don’t know much about autism, so i’m going to have to research up on that. I have (i think) 3 requests that i’ll try to write today, if i can’t i’m so sorry! But this one will be written, i’m going to edit this post to add on the story. (what i’m saying is, the story will be on this exact post) so stay tuned!

——————————————————————-

i’ve been d r a g g i n g it on to write this request since i’m pretty sure i’m gonna get it wrong but i’m bored as f u c k so yeah

autistic

kay so i know the name isn’t original but i can’t think of a better one

summary: y/n is scared to tell her boyfriend, Draco, that she’s autistic, but he accepts her right away :)

warnings: this isn’t a warning but i just wanted to let you guys know, i know that being autistic isn’t just being sensitive to loud sounds but i honestly don’t know what it’s like, so if you could tell me in the comments, i’ll gladly fix it! And the person who wrote the request said that they are sensitive to some touch, and i don’t know what that means so i’m just going to guess that they don’t like being touched during certain situations. oh and some cursing

face visual:

You woke up with the sun shining in your face, temporarily blinding the shit outta you. You groaned, getting up to close your curtains but yelped as a strong arm pulled you back.

You then remembered that Draco had fallen asleep with you last night.

Your worries flooded back to you again. You fell asleep last night, trying to figure out a way to tell him that you’re autistic... you didn’t think it was a bad quality, but Draco could be judgemental sometimes and you didn’t want to lose him. Pushing your thoughts aside, you tried to sit up.

“Dracoooooo... let me go.”

He then frown-pouted, his eyes still closed. “m’no wanna... stay with me,” he pulled you tighter.

You groaned, turning around and threading your hand through his hair. He smiled, thinking he accomplished what he wanted but then you yanked on his hair. hard.

his eyes shot open and he looked at you, narrowing his eyes. “fine... if you wanna be like that.” He then turned around, his hand accidentally pushing the lamp off your bedside table.

It landed on the floor with a loud crash, and you immediately clamped your hands over your ears and buried your face in your pillow.

After staying like that for a few minutes, (partly since you were tired and finally found a way to block out the sun) you got up again. Draco was standing next to the shattered lamp, wand in hand. He was watching you, with a confused look on his face.

Your face flushed red, and you quickly got up to get ready.

He waved a spell and the lamp re-arranged itself on your table again.

walking to potions class

Draco had his arm around your waist, glaring at any boy who looked at you and ignoring the girls who fanned over him.

You eventually made it to class, sitting down at your table at the front.

Professor Snape didn’t arrive yet, so you set to take out your stuff and started to doodle. One arm on the desk and your other hand drawing, you dipped your quill in ink, absorbed in your own world and not even knowing that Draco was watching you draw in awe.

He touched your free arm softly, making you yelp and knock over your bottle of ink.

Draco looked at you, a bit hurt but mostly confused. Before he could say anything, Snape walked through the door, his black robe flying behind him. He stopped where you were, looked down at the spilled ink, waved a spell at it and kept walking to his desk.

Snape started talking, and Draco attempted to ask you about what happened.

“y/n. y/n,” he hissed, trying to get your attention.

Professor Snape looked up and narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps, Mr. Malfoy... you would like to share whatever is more interesting than what i’m talking about with the class?”

Draco shook his head, “no professor.”

“Very well. Moving on.”

The rest of the class Draco kept stealing worried glances at you, but he made sure not to touch you again.

after class

You got up immediately, a free period next. You made it your goal to get to your room before Draco could follow you, but no such luck. He ran after you.

“y/n. y/n!” You huffed, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him. “what...”

“what was that? you’ve been acting odd all day.” He then let his imagination take over, realiziation going over his face. “am i too clingy? what did i do? i’m sorry. is it me? oh merlin. it is me, isn’t it? you realized that you didn’t like me and you’re trying to tell me. But we’ve been dating a day! please give me a chanc-”

you cut him off. You were going to tell him, you decided. If he decided he didn’t like you, then so be that. you groaned inwardly, preparing for the worst.

“Draco... i’m autistic.” “oh,” he looked at you.

You continued. “I didn’t want to tell you so soon, but i figured if you were going to date me, you deserve to know. I don’t want you liking me without knowing who i am, and if you want to leave me i underst-”

He broke you off by kissing you, him entwining one hand in your hair, the other cupping your cheek. You froze, but eventually melted into his touch. You felt his ring dig softly into your cheek, his hand slightly tugging your hair.

He broke apart, chucking at your flushed face and messy hair.

Taking your hand in his, he started leading you to the library. “Let’s go study, yeah?”

You tugged on his hand, a worried look on your face. “hey... could you not tell anyone?” “of course darling.”

You walked to the library, your hand in his. After sitting down and studying for half an hour, you heard a voice.

“There she is!”

You looked up to see a boy pointing at you, laughing with his few friends. “The autistic one.” They then burst into laughter, while you burst into tears, hiding your face in Draco’s chest. He gently pulled you off of him and stood up.

Draco wasn’t the tallest person, but he still won a few inches over the boy. “what the fuck did you say?” The boy looked up at him, mouthing ‘oh shit.’

Draco laughed, pushing him against the wall by his collar. “Oh shit is right motherfucker.” He then punched the kid, giving him a bloody nose. He then continued on to drop the kid on the floor, leaving him crumpled.

He punched the kid’s friends, dragging one back that was running away by the hood.

They scrambled away, all injured in some way.

Draco then turned around, a smile on his face as if he didn’t just beat up a bunch of students.

He came over to you, wiping a tear off your face. “Don’t cry darling... i think you’re perfect. Don’t let them get to you love.”

You smiled and nodded, hugging him. He picked you up and sat down on a couch, laying your head in his lap, stroking your hair. “Is this okay?” You looked up at him, his eyes watching you.

“This is perfect.”

———————————————————————-

YAYYYY it’s finished! i hope you liked it :) thank you so much for the request!

[supertweetycherry]

DIE HARD || [ii. Wishful Wishes]

—Pairings: BTS x OC 

—Genre: BTS Mafia Au, Slight Fluff, Angst (a lot of it), Heartbreak, Thriller 

—Ratings: 18+ | MA Content | R 

—Warnings: Blood, Death, Killing, Weapons, Torture, Violence, Abuse, mentions of sex and Alcohol. 

—Summary: She belong to them. They belong to her. It’s simple as that. Period. 

—Word Count: 3.2k 

Navigations -> Masterlist || MASTERPOST <<Prologue || PART 2>>

Chapter 1 - The Wishful Wishes 

                                               10 years later.... 

A young women, in her middle twenties, stood staring at the giant mirror with weary eyes. Her hands twitched as she traced all the scars and bruises she recently acquired during her run-in with her uncle’s family again. She was shaken by the amount of pain and fear running through her veins. There was a reason she chose to live away in a small apartment, rather than the big, lavish mansion that her uncle offered her. She thought she would be safe here... but she wasn’t.

They would never leave her alone. 

A burst of sobs left her mouth as she looked at her reflection in disgust. Her eyes teared at the prospect of what she’s staring at. The women she sees in the mirror, doesn’t resemble the pretty, chubby little girl from ten years ago. Instead, the women she sees now is tall and regal with her long, dark black hair and an hour-glass like figure. The baby fat she used to hold has now washed away, leaving behind a sleek, curvy figure that is mostly hidden from the prying eyes. 

But today, those curves were on full show. 

Only because, the women had yet suffered through another horrible run-in with her uncle Sung Woo’s family. His wife (her Aunty) plus their two evil daughters (her two little cousin sisters) and the eldest son (her oldest cousin brother) had barged into her little apartment with another accusation in their minds. An accusation of stealing their daughter’s rightful place in the company that her dad built. 

Yoona sighed in defeat as she remembered the various profanities thrown at her before her Aunty took the initial steps to ‘beat it’ out of her. The evil elderly women made sure to give Yoona a harsh lesson, calling her an ‘orphan’, ‘street rat’ and a ‘dirty scum’ living on their expenses, before allowing her children to do the same. 

And now, Yoona could barely move.  Her skin was filled with black and blue patches that pained her at every move she made.

“I wish you were here, mum.” She whispered, letting her tears fall through her eyes. 

Things have changed so much since that tragic night. For one, she had no-one left that cared for her. No mother, no father, no sister... and no love. Not even her uncle Sung woo—the man who promised to take care of her, to cherish her, to keep her like his own daughter. 

He did none of that. 

Instead, he turned his back on her the moment they escaped from South Korea. He left her in his evil family’s claws and used her as a puppet from time to time before dropping her off like a rag doll whenever his needs were fulfilled. She tried to detach herself from him and his family, but it’s not that easy as it sounds. 

Right after that tragic night ten years ago, it was discovered that her family was being targeted due to their high status within the nation. Reasons were still unclear but her uncle only explained the basics. Which includes that her identity as Lee Yoona, Daughter of Lee Jong gi and Kim Yuri was dead to the world. She was crushed and killed in a deadly explosion on her 16th birthday party with the rest of her family in tow. Her seven best friends who promised to never leave her side, were also killed in the same fire, leaving their family lines barren and free for anyone to take over. 

It was a tragic headline in the newspapers. But thats what the world believes now. She can’t do anything about it. 

“Shit.” 

Her movements stopped as she felt a sharp stinging over a patch of skin on her ribs. It seemed soft and tender to her, indicating the huge bruise she will be receiving the next day. 

Taking a deep breath, she slowly continued to clean her wounds. With every touch she made, she whimpered at the sting of pain. Her eyes continued to spill the tears every once in a while as her other free hand formed into a tight fist, letting the red ruby dig into her skin. It was a ring she never took off. It helped her with the pain and gave her a purpose to be still alive. 

Looking around for a distraction, her eyes flickered to the old whisky bottle that sat in her cabinet, underneath the sink. The last time she had touched anything alcoholic, she nearly ended up jumping off the roof thinking that she could fly. 

It was a stupid thought but it seemed legit to her at that time. 

“Ughh... fuck this.” She groaned and slithered to the cabinet. With all her aching bruises, it took her some time but she managed to grasp the bottle in her hand and pulled the lid off with a loud pop. 

The raw smell of the alcohol greeted her lungs. She pinched her nose and gulped down an handful of rushed sips through her bursted lips. It burned her insides as she coughed and gagged on the taste. It nearly choked her but she managed to survive. 

“This is for you Oppa.” She muttered to no-one in particular and took some more mouthfuls of the liquid poison. The pain from her injuries subsided and she continued to drink and clean her battered body with the antiseptic. 

It felt like hours before she was done. The pain was still there but she knows she can manage it. She has ten years of abusive experience to prove it.  

With a loud sigh at her predicament, she pulled herself up and draped over an old oversized hoodie that reached up to her knees. It made her feel light and small as she weakly sat down on the floor again. The alcohol made her relax and her vision started to sway a bit. 

Still holding onto the bottle to her chest, her eyes zoomed on the small cupcake, sitting on her coffee table with the world’s most innocent look. Just by staring hard and bringing her face closer to it, she remembered why it was there. 

It was for her birthday. Her 26th birthday. Instead of feeling happy, she felt anger and sadness overtook her. 

It’s been ten years since she lost her family. 

Ten years since she lost the loves of her life. 

And ten years since she refused to celebrate her birthdays. 

Feeling a rush of negative emotions, she brought down her fist on the little piece of sugary food, squashing it into a creamy paste. Pushing it away from her sight, she plopped down onto her bed and gazed up at the chipped ceiling above her. If only she had died that night, then maybe she would have been with them, her parents and her boys. 

Reaching underneath her pillow, she pulled out a crumbled photo.  

The sides were ripped and the quality was bad. It lacked the colours and seemed very faded and old. But to her, this was the only thing she has left of her boys. The only picture that she managed to obtain before everything about her life was erased.  

It was originally taken from one of those old Polaroid cameras that her dead sister gifted to her once. Her Unnie wanted Yoona to preserve her memories. She explained how important it was to have photographic proof of moments that one day might fade away. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, yoona. It’s important for us to find a medium to preserve our most loveable memories. Our brains are not wired to remember every single thing in our life. Sometimes, it needs the photographic proof to recall the moments that are long forgotten.” 

At that age, Yoona didn’t care about those words that much. But now, they were engraved into her soul like ink. She remembered each and every one of them whenever she felt lost. They reminded her of a life long forgotten. A life where she had her family and her lovers by her side. 

“I miss you so much.” She whispered, looking at all her boys. They were piled up together in a sloppy, casual pose as they headed off to their classes. She had taken this photo a year before their death. She was in-charge of the photo booth for the cultural week in her school. And making memories was her job. Since, at that time, the seven pretty boys didn’t like being in the camera, she had taken great measures to snap one while they weren’t looking. It resulted in her being chased around the whole school by them but in the end she was happy at her actions. Because in those moments, she saw them being happy and carefree with themselves. 

It had lightened up her coming days. 

Rubbing at the scratchy surface of the poloriod, she tried to engrave their faces in her heart again. But due to the bad quality, she failed to pick up the whole image. She had to improvise from her memories that she could still access. She wondered, if they were alive, would they still look the same? Probably not. Ten years is a very long time. Heck her own body has developed in ways that completely changed her face. 

As Yoona thought about her past, she was suddnely overwhelmed by a longing sentiment from her childhood days. Her mind went back to the wistful affections she received and let out a sob through her lips. The locked memories rushed past her mind like a burning train. It brought tears and pain into her eyes as the alcohol in her body broke apart the little restraint she has built over the years. The same restraint that preserved her fragile sanity.  

Looking up at the crumbled photo, her fingers traced over each of their faces, trying to remember every aspect about them. Their face, their voice, their laughs, their touches... It continued on until her fingers hovered over the boy with the gummy smile. Out of all of them, his death was one of the most occurring nightmares that haunts her dreams. It repeats over and over in her head like a horror movie set on reply. From gun shots to his body being plunged into the dark lake. It haunted her to no end. 

Then, it was the other boys’s deaths. Their last moments being twisted and turned by her mind into gruesome flashes of images that shakes her body awake every single night. 

The nightmares are both horrible and disgusting, but she could never escape from them. She could only wish to be with her loved ones again. But it’s a wishful wish, that will never come true. 

                                                        **********

Somewhere, on the other side of the world, in South Korea, a man with electric blue hair stood near a window, facing the night sky in thought. A small gummy smile was painted over his lips as he gazed at the early stars that had come out to greet a demon like him. 

The night was one of the coldest nights in the nation. Solid white ice covered the entire city. Everyone was in their homes, enjoying some quiet and peaceful times with their families. 

But for this particular blue-haired demon, the night was special. He was leaning against the window frame, breathing heavily as white puff of smoke filtered out of his mouth due to the intense cold weather. 

His hands reached to the familiar friendship bracelet that stayed tied on his right wrist for the past 10 years of his life. He never took it off. Not even once. But today, some imbecile moron bitch tried to get her hands on his little lifeline. 

And there’s one thing that everyone in the underworld knows, it is to never touch that bracelet. It was a taboo to even think about touching those delicate beads that graced his beautiful pale wrist. 

He was a man who never cared about sentiments, but this little thread of colourful beads was very special to him. Each of his brothers had this on their wrists, designed perfectly to suit their personality. They cherished it so much that it became forbidden to even look at. But yet again, someone did try to go against the unspoken rule. 

“I’m sorry, sir. The other masters will not be able to join you today. They’ve been caught up with some unexpected work.” His bodyguard said with a shaky voice. 

The man scoffed at his brother’s excuses. Of course they wouldn’t be here. Why would they? Those little bastards are too busy hiding in their own places, too scared to face the night head on. They feared the guilt of loosing their most loved one all those years ago. 

He chuckled and turned around to face his bodyguard who still stood with his head bowed deep down in respect and fear.  

“They’re scared, Wook.” He told his guard. “To scared to face her memories again. Bloody losers.” He cursed before shifting his eyes to the small chocolate cake on the tall coffee table. 

A small genuine smile graced his lips as he walked forward and lit the colourful candles on the cake with his lighter. He had personally picked out the candles for tonight, making sure the colours matched with his beaded bracelet. After all, he was her favourite. 

The light from the candles illuminated a small figure, sitting on a chair beside the table. 

It was a women, with the most curvy body shape that anyone could think off. Her hands were bounded behind her, mouth stuffed and taped with duct tape. All her makeup was recklessly wiped off, and her hair pulled and stretched into a lump of tangled mess. And the best part, she was naked. 

Fully and utterly naked from head to toe. Her exposed goods were a pleasant sight for all the boys in the room. She was withering and twisting against her bonds as he gazed at the women with a sadistic glee running through his dark black orbs. 

She was cold. She could feel the chills of the cold weather, penetrating through her naked skin. 

“Hush, little one.” The dangerous man boop the women’s nose as her struggles got louder and louder. She whimpered at his unexpected touch. His voice was laced with innocent sweetness. “It’s okay, baby. I know you want the cake. I’ll make sure to give you a slice before I kill you.” He whispered into the women’s ear, before setting himself next to her. 

He smiled at the lightened cake and proceeded to cut it, singing a song with his beautiful voice.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to my little princess. Happy birthday to you.” He singed, caressing the small picture frame that sat beside the cake. His eyes became glossy with unshed tears as he remembered the good old days with his darling. 

The trapped women beside him, glared at his unusual, weird actions. She was shivering in fright as she was forced to listen to the demon beside her singing such a happy song. It made her more afraid of his unhinged personality. 

His two personal bodyguards also shivered at their boss’s creepy voice singing such a normal, happy, cliche song. Even after serving him for years and watching him do this every year on the same night, they are always freaked out by his sweet persona. It was creepy, and worse than his actual demonic personality. 

“Want some cake?” The demon offered to his guards who shook their heads. “I insist.” The warning was clear in his voice. They gulped and took up the offer. 

Smiling, the man ruffled his electric blue hair and turned to the naked women. Setting himself on her thighs, putting most of his dead weight on her naked body and the chair beneath her, he cupped her gagged face in his hands. 

Slowly but surely, he removed the tape and the stuffed gag which turned out to be her blue panties. As soon as the gag was off, the women sucked in deep breadths of air into her lungs, trying to regulate her breathing. 

“Enjoying baby?” He teased, with a strange glint in his eyes. The girl whimpered. 

“S-suga... p-please let m-me go. I-I’m sorry. I-I’m really—“ 

“Stop...” He cut her off, by thrusting the panties back in her mouth. “You talk too much, baby. I don’t like my dolls talking too much.” He grumbled, shaking his head like a child. In reality, that’s what he is. A crazy, insane spawn of the devil. He’s worse than the actual youngest among his brothers. “Here, have some cake, baby.” 

The young man forced a rather large slice of dark chocolate cake into her mouth. She gagged on it because he hadn’t removed the panties and had thrusted the food deep inside her. 

A wicked smirk graced his lips as he watched the women struggle. He even applied a bit of pressure on her windpipe as a cherry on top. The reaction was instant. The women’s face had turned a bright red. Her struggles had turned more fierce. 

“Do you like it baby?” He mused, running his cold, slender fingers on her bare shoulders, sending cold shivers down her back. The light pressure on her windpipe was still there. “It’s chocolate. Princess’s favourite flavour.” 

“Mmmhhh...” the women tried. She really tried to spit out the gag and the stupid cake in her mouth. But she couldn’t. It was stuffed in too deep, almost blocking off half of her air ways in addition to his thumb. 

“Do you know why I don’t like you, baby?” He continued, ignoring her struggles. He started dropping wet, sloppy kisses on her neck. They slowly reached down to her chest, through her moulds before making their way back up to her neck. “Do you know why you’re in this... predicament?” 

The childishness has vanished from his tone. It was now dark and low. 

“Because you have something that belongs to my Princess only.” 

The venom in his voice was strong and piercing. It mentally shocked the helpless women. All this time, she thought she had just stumbled into a psychopath by accident but his words seemed to indicate that she was sought out. 

“Not to mention, you practically tried to rip off a very important part of me, even though I gave you ample of warnings to keep your curiosity to yourself.” 

The kisses on her became more aggressive. His hands were now squeezing and twisting her big leverage, causing her pain and an unusual sense of pleasure. 

“Joonie tried to stop me.” At this, his voice went back to that child-like whining. “But I couldn’t help myself.” He suddenly bit her neck with his sharp teeth. The women flinched. 

He slowly brought his soft lips closer to her ear shell. 

“I wanted to have some fun.” 

And with that, the cake knife was suddenly slashed across her shoulder blades, drawing out the first blood of the night and the first set of screams that will echo in the quiet, empty house. 

The next day, a new headline was broadcasted on all the channels across the nation. 

‘BANGTAN HAS STRUCK AGAIN!’ 

Tag List: @demonic-meatball​

[pikapeppa]

Professor Solas AU: Wrong

Chapter 7 of Inadvisable (Solas +Abelas + Felassan modern university AU) is posted! 

In which Tamaris decides whether to bother replying to Felassan’s message, and Solas talks shop with Abelas... then fantasizes thinks about Nare.

~4500 words; read on AO3 instead.

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

- TAMARIS -

Tamaris opened the apartment door for Feynriel and gave him a stern look. “All right, follow those aftercare instructions properly. No swimming, no scented moisturizer shit.”

Feynriel nodded and smiled, then winced. “Ow. Smiling hurts my face.”

Tamaris smirked. “Yeah, that’s what happens when you get tattoos on your cheeks. It’ll stop hurting in a couple of days.” She tapped the aftercare instruction pamphlet in his hand. “If you have questions, problems, you call me, okay?”

He nodded and stepped out of the apartment. “Okay. Thanks again, Tamaris. For the history lesson and everything as well as the vallaslin.”

“Anytime,” she said. She waited for him to make his way down the stairs, then closed the door behind him and went to clean up the detritus of their tattoo session.

She padded down the hallway that led toward Athera’s bedroom and turned into the fourth bedroom, which did double-duty as her tattoo studio and Nare’s art studio. She threw away the crumpled witch hazel and alcohol wipes and the unused tattoo ink, and as she placed the used needle into the sharps container, she made a mental note to change the nearly-full container to a new one. 

She sighed wearily as she wiped the counter down with bleach; she already had another full sharps container in the corner, so it was probably time to take them all to the pharmacy down the street to dispose of them properly. 

When the space was clean once more, Tamaris plopped down onto her padded stool with a sigh, then reached for her phone. Just as she was about to pick it up, she remembered the message she’d received that morning.

Her belly jolted. She hesitated for a second, then picked up her phone and swiped through to her PMs on Instagram.

felassan 08:13AM Deep mushroom sometime?

She huffed to herself. She could practically see his shit-eating grin in the letters on her screen. 

She pursed her lips as she studied the short message. In all honesty, she was surprised to hear from him. After coming home from the mixer last night with Athera and Nare, Tamaris had spent some time wondering why the fuck Felassan had left her in the alley instead of coming home with her, and she could only conclude that she must have offended him somehow. She had a tendency to do that, after all; when you were as short-tempered and indelicate as Tamaris could be, pissing people off kind of came with the territory. 

It must have been when she called him a playboy. Everything seemed like it was going fine until that point. But that’s hardly an insult if it’s true, she thought in disgruntlement. Despite Felassan’s protests that he wasn’t a smooth operator, she didn’t believe him. She had no reason to believe him, after all. He was a handsome and charming man who seemed to know all the right things to say to soften her up, and the way he kissed her was nothing short of perfectly seductive, so of course she didn’t believe him.

Tamaris ultimately went to bed last night concluding that even if she had offended Felassan, it was for the best. Someone that handsome and smooth-talking could only be full of shit, so she was better off without him.

But then she’d woken up around ten to find that he had messaged her early this morning. The fact that he’d contacted her had thrown her off so much that she’d closed the app and not replied. 

Now, almost five hours after he’d sent that message, Tamaris still hadn’t replied. And she wasn’t sure she even should. What was the point, after all? She didn’t want anything other than simple and uncomplicated sex. This contact with Felassan was already more complicated than it needed to be, with his whole disappearing act last night followed by this coy message on Instagram this morning.

Too much trouble,  she thought, and she closed the app once more. But as she sat there on her stool with her phone dangling from her hand, she couldn’t help but think about some of the things he’d said last night. 

He’d said she was looking for a reason to smile. It sounded like a smooth line, but there was something about the way he said it that made her think he actually meant it. Something about the look on his face, like he somehow knew what it was like to be looking for a reason to be optimistic and hopeful and all that shit. 

And if he really did mean it, if he really did think she’d been searching the for a reason to smile…

All the more reason to avoid him, she thought grumpily. The last thing she needed was someone who was going to act like he knew her based solely on the look on her face. 

She sat idly on her stool for a few minutes. Then she opened Instagram and swiped through to Felassan’s profile.

It was devoid of any helpful insights, unfortunately. His profile was empty with no photos at all, not even a profile photo.

Fucking weird, she thought. She stared at her screen for a moment longer, then swiped back to her PMs. 

felassan 8:13AM Deep mushroom sometime?

She stared at the message for a moment. Then, before she could change her mind, she replied.

tamaris_tattoos 12:43PM  your empty insta makes you look like a predator. or a grandma

She minimized the app without waiting for a response and checked her emails instead. She read through her emails for a minute, then returned to Instagram. 

felassan 12:43PM Is that how you speak to all of your potential clients?

She scoffed before replying.

tamaris_tattoos 12:45PM shut the fuck up. you’re not a potential client

felassan 12:45PM Not with that charmingly rude attitude, I’m not.

tamaris_tattoos 12:45PM what do you want then

felassan 12:45PM A repeat of last night wouldn’t go amiss.

Her heart skipped a beat, but he was typing another message. 

felassan 12:45PM The deep mushroom, I mean. Whoever your source is, the quality of their product is excellent.}

Tamaris smirked despite herself. He was such a cheeky shithead.

tamaris_tattoos 12:45PM no source. i grow my own and no, i won’t sell you any, so don’t bother to ask

felassan 12:45PM I wouldn’t dare ask. It wouldn’t be the same if I couldn’t enjoy the taste of your lips on the joint.

She barked out a laugh before replying.

tamaris_tattoos 12:46PM you’re so full of shit lol you say you’re not a playboy and then you throw down a line like that

felassan 12:46PM And yet you replied. With a ‘lol’ to boot. I must be doing something right.

tamaris_tattoos 12:46PM you’re fucking bold you know that

felassan 12:46PM Only when I’m deeply inspired. But I will back off if that’s what you want.

Tamaris hesitated for a long moment. She hated to admit it, but his cleverness was extremely attractive. And the way he kissed her last night…

She nibbled the inside of her cheek for a second. Then, slowly, she tapped out another message. 

tamaris_tattoos 12:47PM fine. drinks later. what’s your number

felassan 12:47PM Now who’s bold?

tamaris_tattoos 12:47PM for fuck’s sake do you want to meet up or not

felassan 12:47PM I would be honoured. Let me know the time and place. 519-555-3352

tamaris_tattoos 12:48PM ok i’m not bringing any deep mushroom though so you’re shit out of luck if that’s what you wanted

felassan 12:48PM I assure you that deep mushroom is the last thing on my mind.

She huffed and closed the app. He was way too smooth. There was no way he wasn’t a playboy.

It was fine, though. She’d just meet up with him, have a drink, fuck him, and then she’d never have to see him again. 

Good plan, she told herself. She went back to her bedroom and grabbed her laptop, then sat down in the living room to read her emails and messages from possible clients until her two o’clock client arrived. But as she looked through the reference pics that one possible client had sent her, she found herself thinking about Felassan and his surprising lack of tattoos – specifically of vallaslin.

She supposed she shouldn’t be that surprised that Arlathani elves didn’t share the same traditions as Dalish elves. The elves that had eventually split off into the Dalish clans had left Arlathan hundreds of years ago, after all. Maybe even a thousand years ago? Athera would know the exact dates if she was here. Regardless, it was long enough for traditions to change. But still, the way Felassan described the difference between the Dalish and the Arlathani elves was interesting: so far removed as to be incomparable. That was a pretty intriguing statement, if Tamaris was honest. Not to mention that thing he’d said about there being a reason he had decided to stay in Orlais instead of going back to Arlathan… 

She mulled this over for a moment, then shrugged it off. It’s probably just a ploy, she thought. All part of his charm to try and get her interested enough to see him again. And here she was, falling into his charming trap. 

She tsked at herself and got up to make a cup of coffee. It’s not falling into his trap if this is the last time I see him, she thought. And really, that’s all there was to it: she’d see him this one time, have sex with him, and that would be the end of it. It’s not like she was emotionally equipped to actually fall for anyone, anyway.

And certainly not for a smooth-as-fuck player like Felassan.

- SOLAS -

Late that afternoon, after all the students and research assistants had gone home, Solas sat at the desk in his office staring absently at his computer screen. 

He really should be working. He had meant to finish editing the response piece he was submitting to the Journal of Orlesian History by tomorrow afternoon, and he had an early meeting with Merrill in the morning, so tonight was really the only time he had to finish the edits. 

He put on his reading glasses and signed into his computer, then opened the response piece and stared at it without taking in a single word. He really needed to focus, but his thoughts were spinning fruitlessly through his head like leaves in a windstorm, and they kept coming back to Nare. 

Nare, the irresistible woman from the bar last night — the student from the bar last night. 

Nare, his Master’s student. 

He rubbed his forehead. It still felt surreal that the beautiful and tempting woman who had approached him so boldly at the bar last night was his new Master’s student. 

And to his shame, the fact that she was his student hadn’t diminished his interest in her at all.

Quite the opposite, in fact. In his art theory and critique seminar today, she had asked so many incisive questions about the ancient Elvhen principles of art criticism that he’d had a hard time keeping a straight face while answering her. And then she’d actually engaged him in a rousing debate about whether those principles were still relevant today when there was so much interaction between different forms and traditions of art. Solas was as impressed by the quality of Nare’s logic as he was by the fact that she dared to debate with him — something that few students did. 

All in all, she was proving to be just as keen and inquisitive as she was beautiful. And for Solas, this was a terrible problem. 

He blew out a bracing breath. It is not a problem, he assured himself; after all, he and Nare both wanted the same thing: a good mentor-student relationship. And her behaviour during the seminar had been very professional.

If he didn’t count the intense way she watched him during the lecture portion of his seminar, or those mischievous little smiles she gave him when no one else was looking. 

He frowned at himself and ran a hand over his scalp as though to brush the thoughts away. There was no reason for him to think that she was trying to flirt with him during the seminar with her oceanic eyes or her little smiles. He was probably just imagining her to be a vixen because of the way she’d approached him last night.

That was over now, though. He ought to forget entirely about the Nare he had met last night at the campus bar, and focus solely on the Nare who was his clever and sharp-minded Master’s student. 

He sighed. If only he wasn’t finding her intelligence as alluring as her smile or the enticing curve of her spine. 

Then someone knocked on the door.

Solas’s heart leapt into his throat. Was it possible that it was Nare?

He cleared his throat subtly. “Yes?” he called. 

When Abelas opened the door, Solas couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or disappointed. “Abelas,” he greeted. “Are you heading home shortly?”

“Not yet,” Abelas said. He entered the office and closed the door behind him. “I wanted to discuss a few things with you before we part ways for the night.”

“Certainly,” Solas said. “What’s on your mind?”

Abelas handed him a report. “The waitlists for our program’s classes are growing longer still. We should consider speaking to the head of the history department about an increase in class sizes.”

Solas scanned the first page of the report, then looked up at Abelas in surprise. “The waitlist for your fourth-year literature class has more students than the class itself.”

“You see the problem, then,” he said.

“This is not a problem,” Solas said. “This is excellent.” He smiled at Abelas. “You should be pleased that your class is so popular.”

“Hm,” Abelas grunted. “Your first- and second-year classes are also particularly in demand.”

“Not the upper year ones, however,” Solas said drolly. 

Abelas raised one eyebrow. “It seems that your reputation precedes you, Fen’Harel.”

Solas laughed. “Hearing that nickname from Felassan is bad enough. Am I to suffer it from you as well, then?”

Abelas grunted again, and Solas fondly noted the twitch of a near-smile at the corner of Abelas’s mouth. Then Abelas pointed to the report. “Speaking of Felassan: his courses are overly popular as well.” He folded his arms. “I believe it’s because he is being too lenient with grading.”

“What makes you think that?” Solas asked.

“He said as much today,” Abelas said.

Solas frowned. “He did?”

“Yes, when he was speaking to Athera.”

Solas relaxed. “Ah. It was more than likely a joke.”

Abelas pursed his lips. “I have my doubts. I will find some time to audit his classes in the next two weeks.”

 “Why?” Solas said in surprise.

“To ensure that he is fulfilling his duties properly.”

Solas eyed him with growing exasperation. Abelas has always had an admirable devotion to his work, but ever since they had come to Orlais, his devotion had almost become an obsession. 

“I don’t believe that such extreme measures are necessary,” Solas said.

Abelas frowned. “It doesn’t bother you to imagine him making a mockery of our work here? You would rather let him have free reign than allow me to audit his classes?”

Solas raised his eyebrows at Abelas’s waspish tone, then slowly sat back in his chair. “It is not my place to allow you to do anything,” he said evenly. “You are the program director, after all.”

Abelas clenched his jaw, and Solas sympathetically regarded his longtime friend. “You are doing it again, you know,” he said gently. “Taking on more than is necessary to keep things running smoothly.” 

“I am not taking on too much,” Abelas snapped. “I am doing what my duty requires of me.”

Solas steadily met his eyes, then switched to Elvhen. “This is not the military, Abelas.”

“I am aware of that,” Abelas retorted.

“Are you?”

Abelas clenched his jaw and looked away before speaking in the common tongue once more. “I will have a word with Felassan. In private.”

“That sounds like a much better plan,” Solas said. He put his reading glasses back on and turned to his computer. “Is there anything else? I have some editing to do that requires my undivided attention.”

Abelas frowned. “For the response piece? I thought you had intended to finish that before your seminar.”

“I had, yes,” Solas said wryly. “But I have been unusually distracted.” He forced his expression to remain pleasantly neutral as he spoke. He was telling the truth, after all; he had been regrettably distracted all afternoon. There was absolutely no need to tell Abelas that the distraction was in the form of his alluring new Master’s student.

Abelas raised his eyebrows. “Distracted? That is unlike you.”

Solas gave him a small smile. “There is no need to rub it in.”

“That was not my intention,” Abelas said. He clasped his hands behind his back. “Are you in need of assistance?” 

Solas shot him a wry look. “And add another task to your overfilled plate? I wouldn’t dare, for fear that you would actually agree to take it on.”

Abelas harrumphed, but before he could reply, there was another knock on Solas’s door. 

Solas raised his eyebrows at Abelas — who else was still here at this hour? — then called out to the person at the door. “Come in.”

The door opened, and Athera poked her head in with a smile. “Hi Solas, I — oh, Abelas! I mean, Professor Abelas. I didn’t… um.” She broke off and shot them both a sheepish smile. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just going to let you know I finished digitizing the contents of one shelf in the archive room. I’ll—”

Abelas cut in. “You finished the first shelf?”

“Not the whole bookshelf,” Athera said quickly. “Just the top shelf of the first bookshelf.”

Abelas blinked. “You — the entire top shelf?”

Athera’s smile was fading into a cautious look. “Yes. Is that okay?”

“It’s excellent, Athera,” Solas said firmly. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” she said. “I’ll keep going tomorrow when I have time.”

Solas nodded and smiled, and Athera smiled back at him before shifting her gaze to Abelas. “Let me know if you want me to start that proposal for the NAS system,” she said.

“Not yet,” Abelas said brusquely. “I must review the program budget first.” 

To Solas’s mild surprise, Athera wasn’t cowed by Abelas’s unfriendly tone; instead, she widened her grey eyes. “I know. I’m just saying to let me know when and I’ll get started.”

Abelas folded his arms and nodded. Then Athera tugged her ear and gave them both an awkward little smile. “Okay, uh, goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Solas said politely.

She shot Abelas one last glance before leaving the office. Once she was gone, Abelas sighed and ran a hand over his braid.

Solas raised his eyebrows. “You were nearly polite. I’m impressed.”

Abelas shot him a resentful look, then rubbed his chin. “I… snapped at her earlier today,” he admitted.

Solas sighed. “Abelas…”

“Do not act as though you are surprised,” he complained. “You knew I didn’t want her here. I didn’t want a lab coordinator.”

“You said you understood the necessity of the position,” Solas said.

“I know what I said,” Abelas said in a hard voice. “I am allowed to understand the need but still be resentful.”

“As long as you don’t remain resentful for too long,” Solas said. He clicked his mouse to wake up the screen, then looked at his colleague over the top of his glasses. “You know I insisted on this position out of concern for you.”

“I am aware,” he muttered. “You remind me incessantly.”

Solas lifted his chin slightly, and Abelas sighed. “I understand the necessity, Solas.”

“All right.” Solas quickly corrected a typo, then shot him a sideways glance. “You don’t have genuine concerns about her competence, do you?”

Abelas hesitated for long enough that Solas actually paused his activities to look at him fully. “Do you truly have concerns?”

“No,” Abelas said. “She appears to be…” He sighed and ran his hand over his hair once more. “She is more organized and efficient than she appears to be.”

Solas raised his eyebrows. “That sounds like praise. I don’t know if I should believe my ears.”

Abelas shot him an annoyed look. “She is trying to change things after a single day here.”

Solas smiled faintly. “Some change was inevitable when bringing in a new member of the lab. And I know you have no great love for change–”

“Don’t make me sound so inflexible,” Abelas snapped. “I left Arlathan to come to this place, did I not?”

“Reluctantly, yes,” Solas said.

Abelas folded his arms, and Solas leaned his elbows on the desk. “It is temporary, Abelas,” he said soothingly. “Just remember that. Our contract lasts for three more years, and then we can return home. But we must—”

Abelas interrupted him. “We need to obtain exclusive rights to the Elvhen ruins in the Arbour Wilds first,” he said testily. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“I know you haven’t,” Solas said. “Just remember this when you are feeling irritated. The situation is temporary.”

Abelas nodded, then took a step back from his desk. “I will leave you to your work.”

Solas shot him a knowing look over the top of his glasses. “You should leave for the night.”

Abelas replied in Elvhen. “The rose should not disdain the holly leaf for its thorns.”

Solas laughed. “Don’t quote classic Arlathani poetry at me. My current circumstances are exceptional. You are a workaholic.”

Abelas harrumphed and left without a reply, closing the office door behind him. Solas chuckled as he settled back into his work, and for a time, he was actually able to concentrate on his edits. 

When his phone chimed with a text, however, his mind instantly went to Nare. 

He glanced eagerly at his phone, but a little thud of disappointment jolted his belly; it was just a text from Dorian inviting him for lunch next week. 

He sighed and turned back to his computer, but his focus was once again spoiled by thoughts of Nare — guilty thoughts about the fact that he was hoping she would text him. She had no reason to text him, after all; they wouldn’t need to meet one-on-one for another week. In fact, she would likely not need to return to the lab until their next meeting, so it was possible that he might not have any contact with her at all for an entire week. 

That thought shouldn’t disappoint him so much, especially since they had only just met. There was absolutely no reason that Solas should be this preoccupied by thoughts of Nare’s keen mind and her scintillating laugh. There was no good reason that he should be thinking this much about the way her smile shifted from shy to coquettish to heatedly brazen and bold. 

There was no reason why three encounters with this one woman should be enough to bring him to his knees. 

Or better yet, to imagine her on her knees in front of him. 

A sudden flash of a fantasy invaded his mind: Nare on her knees before him wearing that lovely red dress from last night, her palms resting demurely on her knees while Solas tilted her chin up with one hand. Nare lifting her chin eagerly, bringing her smiling lips closer to the rising hardness of his shaft. Nare panting and struggling to remain upright while Solas knelt in front of her in a similarly compromising position… 

His trousers felt tight around his groin. He scowled at his lap and shifted in his chair to try and relieve the pressure. Stop this, he scolded himself. It was wrong to feel this way. It was wrong to feel so drawn to Nare – to feel as though the connection they had made last night was something rare and precious, and to want to foster that connection.

Just like it had been wrong of him to confess to her during their meeting today that she was so thoroughly distracting. And it was certainly wrong for him to feel a distinct unfurling of satisfaction in his gut at the hopeful widening of her eyes when he’d made that forbidden confession.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, momentarily defeated by his own traitorous libido. He closed his eyes and briefly ran his palm over his own hardness through his trousers. Not enough to bring himself any kind of release, of course, but enough to soothe himself… and unfortunately, to worsen the fantasies that were running unchecked through his mind. 

Solas sat idly in his office chair for a time, thinking terrible tempting thoughts and cursing himself silently for his lack of discipline while his work sat untouched on the screen before him. If wanting Nare was so completely wrong, why did the wanting have to feel so torturously good? 

[cstormsinukagblog]

Fast Food Thief

A/N I do not own Inuyasha or any characters. This is not an original idea. I read a post a while back and the idea popped into my head to do it Inukag style. The idea is here. This is a modern day Inukag au. I hope you enjoy. I needed a pick-me-up. Have a good Saturday!

Tags for people who have requested it:  @akitokihojo @alannada @mamabearcat @Cammysanstuff @eternalnight8806-3 @feudalpriestess98 @hinezumi @Juliatheanimelover7 @keichanz @littlemissinukag @noviceotakus-blog @petri808 @shinidamachu @Stuckinthewrongworld @witchygirl99 @xfangheartx

This day was going to suck. Her coffee pot was broken, so she was going to have to stop somewhere. She goes to get dressed to go to work, and apparently the dry cleaners failed to get the ink stain out of her favorite blouse. She stomps her feet like a young child throwing a tantrum. But it did relieve some of the irritation. She selects another outfit, gets dressed in a hurry, then rushes out the door. She parks on the street and heads into the cafe on the way and realizes too late the line was too long. She tries to wait it out, but is definitely going to be late. She gives up after the line seems to have barely moved after ten minutes. She is almost there and actually it doesn’t seem like she is going to be late until she hears sirens. She pulls over diligently and sees fire trucks zoom past her and stop a little ways ahead of her. Traffic is not at a standstill. She was only 18 minutes late, and it didn’t seem like anyone had noticed. She sunk into her desk just in time for her boss to yell her name. She jumps up, and he is glaring at her. 

“Yes, Mr. Naraku?” Her voice is still slightly out of breath, which is exacerbated by her nerves.

His glare almost seems to get worse, “in my office, please.”

Her head sinks as she nods in response, then follows him to his office. He motions for her to sit in the chair across from his desk and she barely sits on the edge of the seat, terrified of what he wants.

“You need to stop making it such a habit to waltz in late, Miss Higurashi. Why don’t you tell me why I shouldn’t fire you?”

Her eyes went wide and she could feel tears welling, which she struggles to blink back. Her voice comes out in a rush, “Mr. Naraku, this is only the second time I’ve been late in a year. I am so sorry, but I am always on time. It’s just been a very bad morning. There was a fire in an apartment building and traffic wasn’t moving.” 

Her head sinks to her chest, and she misses the evil smile spread across his face. Her heart is pounding and she can’t breathe.

His voice comes out with a greasy quality, “Very well. Do not be late again. If you do, we will have to let you go. You already have 2 write-ups. I should give you your third today. But I’m feeling generous. Perhaps after work you can come talk to me about getting those write-ups removed. I’m sure we can work something out.”

She can feel his eyes travel up and down her body and she represses a shiver. “If I have time after work, I will come back, Mr. Naraku.” She is hoping so hard that he won’t know she’s lying. She knows exactly what he wants, and she would rather lose her job than do what she’s sure he’s insinuating.

She works through her first break, only stopping to run to the restroom. She had to avoid any chance to be alone with him. She didn’t want to lose this job, but she would have to start job hunting tonight. Her lunch couldn’t come soon enough. Her stomach was grumbling. She went to the breakroom to grab her lunch from the fridge to find it gone. This day seriously couldn’t get any worse.

She leaves to try to run to the fast-food restaurant down the street, but she’s only halfway there and she knows she’s never gonna have time. She stops into a little corner store and grabs a pop and a bag of chips and runs back, barely making it in time. Before she sits, she sees Mr. Naraku glance at his watch and give her a look as if to say, “cutting it close.”

She slumps at her desk and sets her head down for a moment. This day is terrible. After a few seconds she calms her breathing and sits back up getting back to work. She opens her bag of chips and starts snacking between typing. The rest of the day seems to be uneventful, and she is so relieved by that. She sees Mr. Naraku staring at her as she finishes closing up things for the day. Once she shuts down her computer and cleans up her station, she clocks out, and pretends to get a phone call.

As she walks by his office, she tries to look guilty and apologize, “I’m sorry, Mr. Naraku. It’s my mom. She needs me to come help her. I’ll be on time tomorrow, I promise.”

He sneers in irritation, “If not you might as well not come in at all Miss Higurashi.”

She nods and looks down as she walks out of the office doors, then she practically sprints to her car. Her stomach is cramping from not having any real food all day. She stops in at the drive thru for the WacDonald’s on the way home. She tried to order her usual, but apparently there was an issue and they had a recall on their chicken patties. As she is sitting there debating on what to order the car behind her honks.

This is definitely the last straw. She glances back in the rearview window and she can see white hair and dog ears on a very handsome face, sitting in a convertible.

Fuck him. She places her order and drives forward to wait her turn to get to the pay window. She debates for a minute, then remembers a post on something similar. She’s usually not so mean, but this has been enough. When she gets to the window, she tells the cashier she wants to pay for the order for the car behind her, but she needs a receipt for both orders. The young kid smiles and mutters something like, “that’s nice of you.” Which she tries not to laugh at. What she is planning is not nice at all.

As she pulls up to the food window, she tells the person that she has 2 orders and shows both receipts. She gets her order and his. Pulls up a bit, flips him off and drives away. Fuck that guy!

~~~~~~~

Inuyasha is in a hurry. As usual. His day hasn’t been bad, but he needs a fucking vacation. Not that he couldn’t take one. Hell, he could take a 3 month hiatus and still be fine. But he needed to work. If he didn’t work, he thought too much. So he worked about 12 hours a day, 6 days a week. He liked to be kept busy. He pulled into the WacDonald’s and was irritated to see so many cars in the drive thru. He could go in, it would probably be faster, but fuck that. He didn’t want to get out of his car. So he pulled in behind this purple sedan. He needed to get home. He had shit to do.

After a couple minutes, the cars hadn’t moved nearly as fast as they needed to. When the purple sedan finally got to the mic to order, the dumb bitch took forever. He could feel a growl rumbling in his chest and he honked his horn at her. He could see her glare at him in her rearview mirror, but at least it made her put in her stupid order. He pulled up and put in his order, quick and easy.

He pulled back up behind her at the pay window and saw her and the cashier send a look back at him. Was she really telling on him? What is this elementary school? He let out a “keh” and waited to pull up to pay. When he pulled up to the pay window, he had cash ready, but the cashier looked at him and seemed all lovey dovey.

“The lady in front of you paid for your food.”

His hand dropped. Wow, he was an asshole. He honked at her because she wasn’t ordering fast enough for him, and she decided to be nice in retaliation. Damn, what a classy lady. Here he was calling her a bitch in his mind, and she was definitely nicer than he had expected.

He saw her get two bags of food. No wonder it had taken her so long, she was ordering for a group. He really was an asshole. He pulls up to the window and says quite calmly what his order was, and the cashier looks confused.

“The lady in the purple sedan just paid for it for me.”

The cashier’s mouth drops, “Umm… She paid for 2 orders and showed me the receipt. She took both orders.”

Inuyasha’s mouth drops open. She wasn’t classy, but damn was she fucking brilliant. He pulled out and jumped on the road, following the purple sedan. She drove to a local park and went and sat under a pavilion. He held back a bit so she wouldn’t know he had followed her.

As soon as she slumps down on a bench, he jumps out of his car and stomps over to her.

“Hey, Bitch! You fucking stole my food!”

She looks up, absolutely shocked, and slightly terrified. 

“That was my fucking order at the WacDonald’s. Now give me my fucking food!”

She seems to recoup quickly and snaps back at him, “Excuse me, but you didn’t pay for anything, that is your problem. I paid for food and I get to have the food. Your loss, loser.”

He growls low at the word loser and fights to keep his anger in check. “Bitch, that isn’t fucking fair. You paid before I got there. But I ordered the fucking food and you will give it to me.”

She just glares at him, “You should have gotten back in line at the drive thru. It’s not my problem. Sometimes mistakes are made. I placed an order, paid for food. And got all the food I paid for. Maybe if you weren’t such a jerk, you wouldn't have these problems. But no, you have no patience, like the 2 minutes I spent putting my order in slowed you down so damn much. How much time have you wasted following me all the way to the park and now yelling at me. You could have got back in line, ordered your food and been on your way. So you weren’t in a hurry, you were just being rude. You deserve it. Besides, you didn’t pay for it so I didn’t steal it. I bought it.”

She stands up and walks back to her car carrying both bags of food, “Now I’m going home. If you follow me there, I’ll be forced to call the police.”

He growls at her, then stops mid growl and bursts out laughing. Everything she had said was completely true. He could have been home sitting on his soft comfy couch, and eating trash food, but here he was yelling at a stranger. For food he hadn’t even paid for.

She seems more afraid of his laughter than his growling. “You’re right. I was an asshole. But I have to bow down to the bigger asshole. You, wench, are a much bigger asshole than I am. I cannot compete. Now, if I pay you for my food, will you give me the damn bag?”

She seems to contemplate it for a minute, then nods. “On one condition. You cannot ever honk at someone in a drive thru again. I need to know you at least learned your lesson.”

He smirks at her and he feels his fang peek out. “Yeah, alright. I won’t honk in drive thrus anymore. What an important lesson. I am so glad you taught me right from wrong.”

He pulls out the money he had for his order and she trades him for the bag. After he turns to walk back to his car, he can detect a change in her scent. He turns back to see her entire body deflate as she sinks back onto the bench. Then the scent of tears hits him. Fuck he wasn’t that much of an asshole was he?

He rushes back, “Hey. What the hell, wench?”

She sucks in a breath and tries to compose herself as he stops next to her. She clears her throat and mumbles a “What?” in response, and for some reason her tears are killing him.

“Was I that much of an asshole? What did I do to make ya cry?”

She shakes her head in response. “It wasn’t you. Just go. Just take your stupid food and go.”

He drops the bag on the ground at her feet and sits down next to her. “Yeah, I don’t think so. What happened to the spunky woman who just let me have it? I’ve never been so intimidated by a human before. Now you’re gonna let my opinion of ya fade so quickly?”

She growls pretty impressively for a human, “What the fuck should I care about your opinion of me? I don’t even know you, you jerk!”

He doesn’t know why, but he instinctively wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her into him. He hears her gasp against him. Fuck, what was wrong with him? He is practically molesting some woman he doesn’t even know! Then her head turns into his chest and her arms come up around his back. He can feel her tears through his shirt, and his heart is breaking slightly. This strong, smart, and wonderful woman is in his arms sobbing, and grabbing his shirt like her life depended on it. He holds her until her sobbing stops. He doesn’t say anything about it, and just sits holding her until she pulls away.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t even know you. That was definitely terrible of me. Please forgive me.”

He cuts her off, by gently placing his hand against her cheek being careful of his claws, “Are ya better now?”

She nods slowly and gives him a watery smile. “Yes, thank you. For everything.”

He nods back and his smirk returns, “Anytime. M’name’s Inuyasha. Maybe we can do this again sometime. Maybe even without all the yelling, and rude names.”

She snickers in response then nods again, “My name is Kagome.”

He shakes his head at her, “Nah, I like Wench better.”

Her smile disappears, “You are such a jerk! Why are you still here?”

He feels his smirk spread, “I can’t resist a Wench in Distress.”

She rolls her eyes, and the smile comes back. “You know what, I think I’ve dated too many jerks. I think I will have to say no to getting together another time.”

“Keh, dating. Aren’t we presumptuous?” Her mouth drops open, and she resembles the cutest carp he’d ever seen. “I mean we barely know each other and you already want to date me. I know I’m a catch, but damn wench. Slow down.”

“My name is Kagome. Ka-Go-Me! Get it right.” She stands up and stomps over to her car and climbs in, slamming the door. He glances down and sees her bag of food and proceeds to grab it, dangling it in front of himself so she can easily see it and he can hear her frustrated scream from inside of her car. He can’t stop himself from opening the bag and stealing one of her fries. Now her frustrated scream has become an angry growl. He pulls out a pen and writes something on the bag. He walks over to her car and puts the bag on the hood of her car. Climbs in his car and speeds off. She’ll call. He absolutely knows it.

She gets out of her car and grabs her bag. His writing is a lot neater than she expected.

Ok Ka-Go-Me Call me Inuyasha and his number.

She was definitely going to have to call him...

[storiesbymads]

COME HOME WITH ME * ( lewis nixon . )

Idk plot wise but anything with a french reader. I'm french canadian but can speak french almost fluently. Maybe something for speirs, roe, or nixon? Sorry the request isn't the most detailed - request

warnings: death, wonky time line

a/n: this is a repost bc i’m a dumb bitch that deleted it so if you’ve seen this before, that’s why :)

wc: 1.3k

The first thing he noticed about her was the warm smile on her face. He couldn't help but think how out of place it was for a time and place like this. The bitter cold at Bastogne had didn't seem to have any affect on the girl. The army was only going to be staying in the town for a few hours before they made their final move to overlook Foy. She was working at the aid-station with no men, though he knew it wouldn't be long until they were full. War was hell.

"Excuse me," she asked with a tap on his shoulder. He hadn't even realized she'd walked up to him until then. The thickness of her accent registered in his mind and made his fingers feel even number than they already were.

"Uh, yeah. What can I do for you, Miss?" His chattering teeth caused his sentence to come out strangled. He tried to match her smile with whatever strength he could muster.

"Désolé, Monseiur. You seem very cold." That was the understatement of the century. "I just was wondering if you wanted to come inside for a little while? Most of the other men have already made themselves at home," she said. He glanced around him only to realize he was the last one out in the cold save for one guy pissing on the side of a building.

"Sure. That sounds lovely." He followed her inside the building that was practically falling apart. It was just barely warmer in the building than outside but the combination of walls and body heat made him feel a lot better.

She left shortly thereafter to go speak with some of the other women that had volunteered to nurse the injured men while the airborne was stationed here. His eyes always managed to find her in the crowd during the short time he was in the building. It wasn't long before all the men were forced to pack up whatever gear they needed and Nixon's thoughts wandered back to his wife. He felt guilty and he didn't know why; he tried to convince himself nothing happened so nothing was wrong. Nothing worked. He made his way back to the forest overlooking Foy with the rest of the men and a heavy heart.

Dick Winters had sent Lewis Nixon back to town for a few days. Nix had zero percent of a clue as to why --he needed a warm meal and a nap-- but he wasn't one to complain. He had basically forgotten about the nurse he'd met a few nights before but he felt his breath hitch in his throat the second he saw her leaned up against outside of the aid-station. Her hair was tied up in a blue haircloth and he could see the dried blood on her hands from where he was standing across the way.

He gave her one of those half-smiles on his way past. She nodded with a smile of her own before taking a drag of her cigarette. He made it about a half-step into the building before backtracking to face her again.

"I never caught your name, Miss," he said. The heel of his boot dug into the snow beneath him.

"I never threw it," she chuckled lightly exhaling a cloud of smoke from the corner of her lips as if to not blow it directly into his face. There was a sudden twinkle in his eyes that she would have missed had she not been looking directly into them.

"Y/N," she said after a few moments.

"I'm sorry?"

"My name," her smile grew. "Y/N Y/L/N."

"Lewis Nixon." He extended his hand out to her. She dropped the cigarette in her grasp and stamped it our before shaking his outstretched hand. The nap and the hot meal had completely slipped his mind at this point.

"What are you here for, soldat?" she asked. The wind began to pick up slightly around them and goosebumps started to rise on both of their skin. Neither of them said anything.

"Oh you know, morale and what not. Dick thought I needed a few days off the line," he almost mumbled.

"Peut être..." A confused look crossed Lew's face that she let a small giggle out at. "Maybe he was right." The ever present dark circles that she saw on all the men she treated were heavily present on the one standing in front of her. And, despite the bright smile he was sporting, she could tell he'd been through some shit in the past few weeks.

Christmas Eve was devastating for the town near Foy. The aid-station was destroyed and numerous lives had been lost to the bombs that used to never stray past the forest. Y/N had lost more friends than she could count on one hand in less than an hour.

She hadn't been able to move herself from the half-broken bench since it had all happened until she saw tanks begin to move through the town like they had a few weeks ago. Her eyes began to instinctively search through the crowd of men before landing on him. Lewis Nixon. His hair looked more disheveled than ever and his dark circles seemed even deeper than when she last saw him. The pair had only met twice and yet she couldn't stop herself from being drawn to him. He seemed safe.

"You alright, Miss?" she was pulled out of her daze to see none other than Lewis Nixon himself standing above her. Y/N wiped her face but her eyes had been dry for hours.

"Salut, soldat." She tried to force a smile but she couldn't even manage one for him. Their interaction seemed so effortless last time but she could barely manage a single word now. Not that he blamed her.

"Uh, salut." One of his eyebrows twitched when he spoke. The word felt strange on his tongue.

"Where are you all headed?"

"We've been..." he looked around at the rest of his men. "relieved."

"That's good," she said. Lewis' expression stated otherwise.

"We didn't need to be relieved."

"Nixon, we gotta go," one of the other soldiers clapped his hand onto Lewis' shoulder.

"Duty calls," the pair began to walk with the rest of the men before Y/N managed to unglue herself from the destroyed piece of furniture.

"Wait!" He hadn't made it far so it only took him a few steps to be face-to-face with the french girl. "Do you have something to write with?"

Nixon scrambled for a few moments before he pulled a pen out of one of the pockets on his chest. She had already begun to rip up the haircloth she pulled out of her braid when he handed it to her and he secretly thanked the army for not skimping out on their quality of pens.

"Write to me. I could use the amusement." She tucked the cloth into the pocket he pulled the pen from. He nodded and had to run slightly to catch up with the rest of Easy. The cloth felt heavy on his chest and he couldn't help the small smile that made it's way to his face.

The first thing Lewis Nixon thought of when he received the divorce papers from his wife was the french pen-pal he had made in Bastogne. They had only exchanged a few letters but he kept them all tucked into the same pocket she had slipped her haircloth into those many months ago.  He didn't know when he had developed romantic feelings for the girl all he knew was that he was in pretty fucking deep. And, on top of all of it, he found himself writing her a new letter without even realizing he'd started. All of the words were smudged and the side of his hand was covered in ink so the only thing he could do with the lengthy letter was crumple it and start again.

This time, though, he couldn't think of anything to write. So, he settled for this:

Dear, Y/N/N,

Come home with me,

Love,

Lewis

He managed to scribble the address of the train station he knew he'd be taking back to England before slipping the letter into it's envelope.

[lovemesomesurveys]

[yourheaventonight]

Where have you been all my life? I’ve always been right here.

Can you recite the Greek alphabet backwards? Nope. Or at all.

What social networks are you a part of? Like every main one.

Which of your fields of interest are you a total expert on? I’m not a total expert on anything.

What is one thing you will never understand? Why I’m like this.

Do you blog? This is it.

What was the last movie you watched? Godzilla vs Kong.

^Would you recommend it? Yeah, I enjoyed it. Admittedly, I was mainly interesting for Alexander Skarsgard, but I did think the movie was good.

With whom did you share your last awkward moment? My life is an awkward moment.

When was the last time you got all dolled up? It’s been yearsss.

Gimme yer best shot and insult me. Go ahead. Uh, no.

What do you think makes a person attractive? Physical attributes, certainly, but personality traits and who they are as a person makes a person attractive to me as well. Even more so.

Out of everyone you know, who has the worst taste in music? I don’t think anyone I know has bad taste in music, I share a lot of the same music taste.

^How about the best? ^^^

Can guys REALLY pull off skinny jeans? They can wear whatever they want.

What is one thing you missed out on that you wish you hadn't? I missed out on a lot of my 20s I feel like, it feels like a complete blur. I don’t know what happened to them. And now I’m in my 30s and I feel like I’m missing out on those, too. Just life, in general for the past several years. Everyone around is me is doing things and living life and I’m just wasting away.

What was the last thing/place you decorated? My room for Christmas.

Have you just recently started listening to any new bands? No. It’s been a long time since I’ve discovered any new bands.

How many windows/tabs are open on your computer right now? Two windows, 7 tabs.

Would you rather date someone really skinny or really overweight? I want to date someone based on other things. 

Let me in on a little secret of yours. Nah.

What is one habit you had as a child? Nail biting/picking. 

^Do you still have that habit today? Sigh, yes.

Is there someone you wish you were closer with? Yes.

^What's stopping you from being closer with them? I’ve been so distant and withdrawn from everyone.

Besides air, what was the last thing you inhaled? The scent of my ramen earlier.

Which point in life do you think is hardest? (i.e. childhood, adulthood...) For me it’s been the past few years.

How was life going for you, say, six months ago? Not well.

^Is that the same as today, or have things changed? Things have changed, but not in a good way.

Who was the last person to make you frown? It’s been things I’m struggling with doing that, not a person.

^Was anyone able to turn that frown upside-down? No.

What was the last non-papery substance you drew on? I have no idea.

What is one thing you wish you had the courage to do? Get certain things checked out and taken care of that I’ve put off for too long.

Which is bigger: Your iTunes library or your CD collection? My iTunes collection was definitely better. I haven’t used iTunes since like 2012, though, and I don’t have any CDs anymore.

What is your one true weakness? I’m just weak.

When is the last time you had hot chocolate? It’s been a couple years.

Composition notebooks or spiral notebooks? Why? Spiral. I just like them better.

What is the most bizarre compliment you've ever received? That I looked pretty for someone with polio. I don’t have polio, but they assumed I did just because I’m in a wheelchair. Also, what does that even mean? “For someone with polio.” Wtf?

Do you identify more with guys or girls? I think I relate more to girls.

When someone you know is sad, how do you go about cheering them up? I kinda suck at that and don’t know what to do or say.

Has someone ever accused you of not being creative enough? I say that about myself. I lack creativity or any artistic ability. 

Starbucks coffee or Dunkin Donuts coffee? I’ve only had Dunkin’s coffee a few times, but I’ve had Starbucks countless times and I do like it, so I’ll go with that. I do wish I had a Dunkin where I live cause apart from the donuts, I’ve heard they do have good brewed coffee.

Do you crack under peer pressure? Yepppp. And it doesn’t take much.

What do you think deserves more attention than it already gets? Hmm.

What song never fails to get stuck in your head? Songs I hear in commercials.

Who is your favorite vocalist? Why? Chester Bennington is one. His voice was incredible.

What is your most overused emoticon? This one: 😬 Do you ever name objects? (i.e. mp3 players, guitars, cars, etc.) Nah.

When was the last time you had a bagel? Hm. It’s been awhile, actually. I don’t even remember. Can you lick your own elbow? No.

What time during the day/night is your mind most active? At night when I’m up alone.

What color ink does your favorite pen have? I have a nice set of colorful pens that I really like.

What was the last thing you licked? My lips.

Who was the last person in your bed besides yourself? Just me. Can you touch your tongue to your nose? No.

What flavor mouthwash do you use? I don’t. Mouthwash irritates my mouth.

What tends to distract you most? I just find myself zoning out a lot. Like, someone will be talking to me and I feel myself getting overwhelmed quite easily and drift out and it doesn’t mean they’re boring or talking about heavy things (sometimes they are). I get like sensory overload. Or I’ll just be sitting in bed and zone out.

Is the perfect man or woman a myth? Yes. No one is perfect.

How do you feel about Bob Marley? I like a couple songs.

What's your favorite fairy tale? I liked reading or listening to all of them when I was growing up. <<<

Do you know who Tom Jones is? Yes.

Tell me one fact you know about horses (without using Google). They have manes.

When was the last time you had to walk up or down stairs? Well, never since I’m in a wheelchair.

Tell me one unique quality about your own handwriting. My handwriting is shit.

What daily chore do you secretly enjoy? I don’t enjoy any type of cleaning.

Has a child ever asked you a question you found difficult to answer? Definitely. Kids ask a lot of questions about everything and anything.

Name five books you've read in the past year. I’ve read a ton more than that, but I’ll give you the latest 5: Cold Highway, Cold Threat, Cold Hunt, Cold Truth, and To Die For.  You can probably tell the first 4 are by the same author, Mary Stone. The last one is by Willow Rose.

^Are any of those books your favorite? I’ve enjoyed ‘em all. I’ve read a lot of books from both authors.

Are you a person that enjoys re-reading books? I don’t re-read books, actually. 

Which hobby is the lamest: stamp collecting or spoon collecting? I wouldn’t call either of them lame just cause it might not be something I’m personally interested in. Those bring some people joy.

What do you daydream about most often? My mind wanders off to random stuff, stuff I’m dealing with, stuff I’m anxious and stressed out about, etc.

Why is your favorite band your favorite band? I’ve listened to them since middle school, so we have a lot of history. I really just connect and relate to their lyrics and I love their music.

Do you have a favorite talk show host? Nah.

What do you wish you could afford at the moment? A beach home with my own private beach area. 

What is the most unusual color you've ever painted your nails? I can’t think of any “unusual” colors that I’ve painted them. 

Which sounds the most refreshing: a hot shower or a cold one? I always take hot showers.

Have you ever made your own soap? No.

What's your favorite popsicle flavor? Not a popsicle fan.

Can you sleep with socks on? Yeah, I always have socks on.

When was the last time you were pissed beyond belief and why? I’ve been frustrated and pissed with some things I’ve been dealing with lately. 

Name a band with the word 'red' in their title. Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Do you have a favorite candle brand? I’m not a candle person. I just go for the room sprays.

How many years until you turn 38? 6. D:

What is your opinion on taxidermy? I find it super creepy and weird.

Would you ever want to own a body part in a jar? Uh, no.

What is the worst thing you have ever done to your own hair? Let it get really knotted up. :/

What do you think makes you a good girlfriend or boyfriend? Nothing.

What qualities of yours do you think could potentially harm a relationship? I’m a total mess, I wouldn’t make a good girlfriend. 

How often do you indulge in a favorite food from your childhood? I eat ramen regularly.

Have any of your childhood habits carried over into adolescence/adulthood? My damn nail picking habit. 

What is the nicest thing you've done for someone else in the past 24 hours? Nothing.

What sort of conditions do you require in order for you to fall asleep? It needs to be cool and I have to have the TV on.

What is the first band that comes to mind when I say 'dark'? Uhhh.

Do you have a favorite punk band? Green Day.

As far as relationships go, what are your biggest deal-breakers? Abuse and cheating. <<<

Be honest: do looks really matter to you? They’re like a bonus to me. <<<

Congratulations! Someone sent you flowers! What kind do you hope they are? I’m not picky, just a pretty assortment perhaps would be nice.

What type of underwear do you personally prefer to wear? Hipsters.

What is the grossest chore you've ever been assigned? Nothing gross.

What band (BESIDES IRON MAIDEN) comes to mind when I say 'iron'? I got nothin. 

Have you ever done something simply because you were of age? I had to go out and buy alcohol the day I turned 21.

Do you think it's worth it to tell someone you had feelings for them when you don't have them anymore? Wait, tell them I used to have feelings for them but don’t anymore? If I don’t anymore then why tell them about when I used to? Unless of course we were in a relationship and I no longer felt that way.

What color shirts do you tend to buy most often? Black.

Have you ever done something you once thought you'd be too chicken to do? Yeah.

Where would you rather go: Portland, Oregon or Portland, Maine? Portland, Oregon.

Name a band that begins with the letter Y. Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

Tell me about someone who has made a huge impact in your life. My mom most definitely has.

What can I usually find you doing at 4pm on a weekday? At that time any day I’m likely still sleeping.

What's a food you love but don't get to eat very often? I only eat the same few foods, so I eat them quite often. Like, I eat Wingstop 3-4 times a week...

Do you dot your lowercase i's? Yes.

What's the first song on your iPod/mp3 player that comes up under P? I use Spotify on my phone for music, but anyway nah I don’t feel like doing that. 

Do the words 'Amon' and 'Amarth' mean anything to you? No.

What's your favorite mythical being? I don’t really have a favorite.

Don't you hate surveys that end abruptly? As long as the question itself isn’t cut off, which I’ve seen, or it’s a numbered one and a question is completely missing then I don’t care.

Let's end this survey with a smile; tell me something funny. I’m not in a good mood to think of something funny right now.

[rainandhotchocolate]

Christmas Day

A/N Here is some pure sirius x reader fluff, spending their first christmas together :)))) Enjoy lovelies!! 

Y/N blinked in the light coming through the window beside their bed. The snow outside had made it blindingly white and it took a second before Y/N could properly see what was sitting in front of her.

“Merry Christmas!” Sirius was sitting on the bed in front of her, holding a large tray of food in on his knees.

“Merry Christmas! What is all this?” Y/N sat up carefully to avoid accidentally hitting the tray and pushed the pillows up so that they could lean against the back wall.

“Well I remember you telling me that your mum used to always make breakfast for you Christmas morning, and I wanted to thank you for spending it with me instead.” He smiled at her, the one he saved for when they were alone, when he was certain he wasn’t about to be mocked mercilessly by the boys.

“Well, it’s not like there’s anywhere else I’d rather be,” Y/N smiled back at him, feeling his arm curl around her waist to lean in and give her a soft kiss. He tasted like maple syrup and coffee.

“Sampling the goods already?”

“Well you were asleep for ages,” Sirius winked, sliding beside her and back under the covers, placing the tray on top of their legs. There was a large array of plates, a stack of pancakes, a bowl of strawberries, blueberries, and apples, toast with butter, orange juice, and two mugs of coffee.

“Well it’s not my fault you had James over until 4am last night,” Y/N rolled her eyes, feeling her mouth drool at the sight of the food. He remembered

Sirius had found her about a few weeks before Christmas sitting on the roof of her apartment. Marlene had shown him up, having not been able to get her down for 4 hours, and he’d joined her on the roof for another 30 minutes without speaking. She knew that Christmas would be hard. Her mum had loved it, spent weeks decorating the house and setting up the Christmas tree, going shopping for their cousins and Y/N. It was the first holiday without her.

“What are you thinking about, love?” Sirius was watching her, and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

“Mum,” Y/N said shortly. If she spoke too much about her it still made her feel like she was choking. “She would have loved this.”

“Yeah?” Sirius smiled, “Well good, I do not want to be disappointing as the new Christmas organiser.”

“Oh, you organise Christmas now?” Y/N snorted, piling on pancakes and fruit onto a plate. Sirius followed suit, pouring a large amount of maple syrup onto his pancakes, barely missing the sheets.

“Yep, I have taken it into my care, you will never be without an incredible Christmas day,” Sirius placed his hand over his heart, his face in mock sincerity. Y/N laughed loudly but felt a warmth come up into her stomach.

“Oh man, I almost forgot!” Sirius shuffled slightly and pulled out his wand, flicking at the record player sitting in the far corner of Sirius’ room. The soft melody of Frosty the Snowman began to play through the room, making Y/N immediately chuckle.

“What is this?”

“Just a cheeky record of classic muggle Christmas songs.” Sirius’ grin seemed to cover his whole face, crinkles forming in the sides of his eyes and mouth.

“I just… I fucking love you,” Y/N laughed at his boyish expression and dug into her food. After they’d finished breakfast and Y/N had persuaded Sirius out of a food fight, Sirius picked up the tray and moved it off the bed so that they could get jumpers on to go downstairs.

“No, no no no, you have to wear this one,” Sirius was rummaging around his closet, his head deep in a pile of unfolded clothes.

“I don’t even remember the last time I left a jumper here,” Y/N raised an eyebrow, watching him continue to search, muttering to himself. If Y/N was honest with herself she might have also been watching his ass move around in front of her.

“Aha!” Sirius pulled up suddenly, spinning around and holding up an oversized dark green sweater. It had an embroidered image of a pug on the front who was covered in sparkling Christmas lights and had embroidered lettering above saying “Merry Pugmas!”

“Oh my god,” Y/N stared, eyes wide, at the jumper momentarily before bursting into laughter. “What on earth is that! Where did you find it?”

“At some vintage store that James showed Lily! We charmed the lights to sparkle.” Sirius thrust it forward to Y/N, “And I request that you must wear it during present time.”

“I honestly want to wear this, this is the most quality bad Christmas jumper I’ve ever seen.”

“Bad, Bad!” Sirius looked affronted, placing a hand to his head, “That’s it, you can’t have it now.”

“You are the most melodramatic person I have ever met.” Y/N rolled her eyes and pulled it away from him, putting it on quickly before he could take it back. “Too late punk!”

“Never too late,” Sirius’ eyes twinkled mischievously as he stalked forwards, grabbing Y/N around the waist and picking her up, throwing her carefully onto the bed and tickling her around the stomach

“Ahhh… stop! Stop!” Y/N cackled loudly as he grinned at her, pulling away so he still had his arms around her head, hands spread across the sheets. Y/N looked up at him looming over her and felt her heart skip a beat. As if he knew, his lip curled and he leaned down to kiss her softly, parting his lips and pressing them harder to hers.

“Presents?” Y/N grinned at Sirius as he pulled away.

“Definitely.” Sirius took each of Y/N’s hands and pulled her upright, leading her out of the bedroom and into the living room. There was a large fake Christmas tree standing next to Sirius’ fireplace, which had been decorated by Sirius and Y/N a week earlier and had ended with them both covered in marshmallows and naked on the rug.

There was a large stack of presents underneath the tree and Sirius slipped ahead of Y/N in order to grab some egg nog and bring it into the living room for the unwrapping. He poured Y/N a large glass and sat on the rub, crossed legged, looking ridiculously eager.

“Ok, you go first.” He took a sip of egg nog and passed Y/N a present from her stack. Y/N smiled, getting increasingly excited as she started to unwrap the present in her lap whilst Sirius watched.

“Oh my god!” Y/N gasped as she took out the gift. It was a small pendant that had a large black dog inside, tongue out and bounding around playfully. “It’s beautiful, Sirius.”

“I know you’ve been worried with me gone on missions a lot of the time, this way you’ll always know I’m safe.” Sirius had bowed his head, looking abashed. Y/N reached over and took his chin in her hand, lifting it up and kissing him.

“It’s the best present I’ve ever gotten.” Y/N lifted it from the box and clasped it around her neck. “Ok, your turn.”

Y/N found her present and pulled it out for Sirius to unwrap. He grinned at her, tearing at it impatiently, finding a large packaged box.

“Holy shit is this…?” Sirius lifted it up, checking every side of it. Y/N nodded, relief washing over her when she saw his smile get a little wider.

“Yep, magical tattoo kit, pre-charmed.” Y/N watched him unbox it and feel around the edge of the needle and boxes of ink.

“This is the best! It’s my dream to do my own tattoos!”

“I know, you dork, you’ve been talking about it for like four years.”

He beamed at her, putting the box aside and jumping on top of her, giving her a hug, peppering kisses along her cheek and neck.

“I’m glad you like it,” Y/N giggled, leaning her neck back to give him more access. He sat up, still beaming at her.

“Let’s get to the rest of them, I think I can smell fudge.”

They spent the rest of the morning unwrapping gifts and drinking the majority of Sirius’ eggnog. Remus had sent both of them books on advanced defensive and dark spells,  Peter a dog collar for Sirius and leash for Y/N, and Lily sent large baked treacle tart and fudge as well as a huge patch of healing potions and a cashmere sweater for Y/N. James had sent Sirius a miniature working Quidditch pitch with mini players that flew where you told them to go, and Y/N had to stop him from playing for the next two hours, and sent Y/N a set of golden chess with a note prepare to be destroyed.

Soon it was time to get dressed to go over to Lily and James’ for Christmas lunch, and they walked upstairs slowly, Sirius playing with Y/N’s hand.

Y/N pulled off her pyjamas, reaching for the dress she had set out for the day when Sirius wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his bare chest.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

“I do, you like to inform me regularly,” Y/N smiled, leaning back into him.

“Well I just wanted to make sure you were aware.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Y/N twisted herself around in his arms so she could face him, looking up at his deep grey eyes, dark curls falling into his face as he met her gaze. He leaned down and kissed her forehead slowly, rubbing his hands along her back.

“I kind of wish we could spend all day just the two of us,” Sirius placed a hand by Y/N’s chin and rubbed his thumb against her cheek. Y/N leaned her face into him, closing her eyes and letting out a soft sigh.

“I think Lily would stab us.”

“Oh, she definitely would.” Sirius laughed and took a step back, his hands still on her waist. He gave her a sweeping look, sighing exaggeratedly before reaching behind and throwing Y/N’s dress at her.

“Put that on before I go insane,” Sirius shook his head, turning to get his clothes as well. Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling whilst she put on her dress, getting Sirius to zip it up. He watched as she pulled up her tights, poking her tongue out at him as he groaned and clapped loudly.

“You’re a complete idiot.” Y/N gave Sirius a soft shove as she put on her boots and followed him out of the room.

“Well then you're an even bigger idiot for loving me.” Sirius shrugged, moving to the fireplace and grabbing a handful of floo powder. “You ready?”

Y/N nodded stepping into the fire behind him.

“The Potter Residence,” Sirius called loudly, throwing the floo powder down, a flash of green flame licking at their feet. As Y/N felt the sucking sensation as she was about to be sent across to another fireplace Sirius grabbed her hand and squeezed tight.

Taglist:  @averytruerayofsunshine @siriuslyjanhvi  @blushingskywalker @blackpinkdolan @thebabblingbookworm @cherrie511  @imlukesnirvana​ @avengersassemblee​ @maraudersandco​ @sly-vixen-up2nogood​ @katbernoulli @sirius-lysad​  @evyiione​ @minerva26love​ @aikeia​  @gollyderek​ @greatwombatblaze​  @songforhema​  @your-typical-giggle @myownviperroom @hermionie-is-my-queen @demiwitch527

[inugirl]

I’ve been working on this since forever. Taking my much needed time since I don’t write as often as I’d like to. But I have had the fist chapter done for a while. I’d just like to get ahead and work on the other ones. Anyways, I thought I’d post it here for White Day since it’s a good opportunity to. @inuyasha-valentines

Fanfiction: Inuyasha

Rating: M (for language, future violence and drugs)

I’m not exactly sure what to call it yet, I’m thinking

Mistaken Identity

Kagome gets mistaken by the mysterious half-demon, Inuyasha, as the woman he was supposed to chauffeur to the big boss’s restaurant to discuss certain business. The stubborn dog ends up making matters only worse for himself, and Kagome.

~~~•~~~•~~~•~~~•~~~

She would have thought that her life couldn’t get any more strange. Not to say that it was strange to begin with. She was just an average Japanese college student trying to get her degree. She wanted to make a name for herself as a reliable pediatrician. She wasn’t currently dating and worked part time at a coffee shop to not rely on her mother as much. That’s all. Nothing made her different than others so for the life of her she had no idea how she ended up in this mess. After all, she only wanted to go to the library to return a book.

“Look, I don’t have time for this.” Kagome, a first year in university expressed. “I just need to return these books in that slot over there.” She pointed to the wall of the library the stranger was leaning on, a return slot for books after hours. She wasn’t sure what to think. Was he some pervert? A part of the Yakuza? She quickly glanced down at her attire, worried that it might have sent some unwanted attention. A simple halter blue dress that ended just above her knees, brown flats and her small yellow side purse. Her ink black hair was down and wavy and she wore little make up. All Kagome could do was wonder how her clothing was asking for trouble. She looked back at him, defiance in her eyes. ‘I will not let him have his way.’

“Look, you’re taking this cosplay thing to a whole different level if you start harassing people just for fun. This isn’t funny.” Kagome spoke loudly to him and prayed she sounded as serious and intimidating as she thought she did.

Although the mysterious man before her was leaning against a wall, he was obviously tall. His strange yet attractive long white hair complemented his slightly tanned tone against the black and white suit he was wearing; his muscular build noticeable. His eyes were a hypnotizing amber gold and ears that resembled that of a dogs were perched atop his head. Kagome was indeed in fear for her safety, but the attractiveness this man gave, she had an odd fantasy of following him.

With a malicious fanged grin plastering his face, he stayed in his spot, leaned against the very wall she was pointing at.

“Look here girl, I was sent to get you okay? It’s not my fault if you didn’t get the memo.” His clawed hands made their way to the air, in a sort of ‘I don’t care’ maneuver.

Kagome could only glare at the man before her. Her blue-gray eyes trying to pierce through this odd persona.

‘I swear, this is like some plot of a dumb show or something. It’s not like everyday a handsome man with animalistic qualities bumps into you…the eyes could easily be contacts...some really well made contacts, and his hair could be professionally dyed or a wig...but those ears on top of his head, they just flicked like a dog’s...how did he do that…’

Realizing that she’d been silent for a little too long she squared her shoulders and lifted her head to keep her aggressive front.

“And just who sent you?”

The odd man simply rolled his eyes and pushed himself off of the wall.

“Don’t be stupid. Come on, we don’t have time for this.” He walked towards Kagome, reaching for her arm. “You of all people should know he isn’t a patient man.”

“Stop! Don’t touch me! Get away!” She flinched back walking backwards as fast as she could without tripping, keeping her eyes trained on the man. He looked surprised and then angry.

“Look. We don’t have time for this shit. Naraku sent me to get you and now you’re backing down on a meeting you called for?” He looked very angry indeed. His thick black eyebrows, which beautifully contrasted his hair, furrowed deeply, the grin he had a while ago replaced with a scowl.

“Naraku…who? I don’t know a Naraku! I didn’t call for a meeting! I’m just a college student! Just let me be that!” Kagome screamed at him. She looked around frantically, trying to find anyone to help her. It was dark out, but only nearing nine thirty at night. The summer months would be arriving soon. How could there be no people nearby? Not even a security guard!

‘I don’t need some ridiculous cartoon adventure! My life is stressful enough as it is! I’m already late turning in this book!’ Kagome quickly looked to the strange yet impossibly gorgeous man before her, then down to her book in her hand. ‘Crap! This is exactly like a plot to a kid’s show!’

“This is a prank show, isn’t it? I’m being pranked in some outrageous prank show. It has to be, right?” Kagome’s chest heaved deeply with every word. She dropped her books, now forgotten she placed her free hands to her chest. She was having a hard time breathing. Her chest was starting to hurt and with every breath she took, she felt like she was missing it somehow.

Falling to her knees Kagome did little to get away from the fastly approaching stranger. He kneeled in front of her, his anger now gone. He looked confused and worried, his ears going flat against his head. He reached out again for her, only slower. Kagome tried to scramble away from him, her hand still to her chest while the other aided her rear against the ground.

“No. Please.” Kagome heaved, sweat was covering her flushed face and her blue-gray eyes holding unfallen tears. She closed her eyes to focus on her breathing, the pooled tears finally falling. ‘One, two, three. One, two, three.’ Her eyes still closed, Kagome felt the man grab her arms. His hands were rough, but his touch wasn’t. His cool hands were welcoming against her ever growing hot skin.

“Hey come on, what’s going on? What’s happening?” He was confused, she was yelling at him like she didn’t know what was going on. Did he really have the wrong girl? He continued to watch her struggle for air. He adjusted himself to her. Kneeling behind her to keep her sitting up and held her shoulders.

The man lowly uttered a growl of annoyance. Noticing her purse he reached into it, grabbing out her wallet and taking out her identification card.

There it was, Kagome Higurashi, 24 years old.

“Fuck. I do have the wrong girl.” He put the ID card down and held her again, examining her closer than he was able to before. She continued to exhale heavy and long breaths and her skin felt hot to his touch. Looking down he noticed her staring up at him. Her eyes were dark, she was looking through her thick lashes and he was staring back.

“I’m,” her voice horsley low, “I’m so sore.” Kagome tried to hug her arms around herself but failed. “I’m so tired.” She closed her eyes and let her exhaustion take over, her body limp in his grasp and her breathing evening out.

“Oh fuck me. I really screwed up.” Growling to himself, the handsome stranger looked back at her ID card for her address. Rolling his eyes he put her items back in her purse and closed it. Gently, he picked her up in his arms. Her own arms falling limp to her exposed side while the other half was warmly close against him. Looking around him to make sure he had all of her things he noticed her fallen book.

‘She said she wanted to return it to the library.’ He looked back to the wall he was leaning on only a few meters away. ‘Well, it’s the least I could do I guess.’

Carefully, he placed her back on the floor and picked up her book to return it. He put the book through the return slot and laid his head against the cold brick wall. He let out an annoyed sighed.

“How did I fuck up this badly?” He eyed the unconscious girl on the ground. Now understanding that she wasn’t the girl he was looking for she looked so vulnerable on the ground. ‘And that’s my fault. I freaked her out so much I gave her a damn panic attack.’ The man winced to himself and made his way to Kagome. Picking her off the ground again he lifted her in his arms with ease and began walking the way she came from.

‘I’m gonna fucking hear it now too. ‘Stupid Inuyasha, you had one job! Good for nothing half-breed!’ ’ Inuyasha mentally mimicked his higher ups already knowing what was going to be said when he came back from his failed mission.

“I can’t let them know about her though, they may try to kill her if they know she saw me outside of my disguise.” He suddenly stopped and looked around him. Still not sensing or smelling anyone, a small bundle of nerves grew deep in his belly.

“Shit. It would look very suspicious if I just walk around with her like this. I don’t need anymore trouble.” He looked around and walked to the closest building, a parking structure. With grace and precision he jumped high into the air landing atop of the structure and began running from rooftop to rooftop. Already very familiar and acquainted with the city, he knew where to go from the address on her identification card.

After scaling each necessary building with hardly any required effort, Inuyasha landed on the rooftop of her apartment. He looked down to the girl in his arms. She hadn’t stirred once during the run and that worried him. He uttered a low growl as he made his way to the roofs edge and looked down. The apartment complex wasn’t all that extravagant, a very typical building with neighbors in between her apartment. Cautious to not be seen by any neighbors, Inuyasha placed Kagome gently on the roof of her building and went into her small purse and easily found her house keys. He went down to her door first to unlock it and put the keys in his pocket before carrying her down with him. Upon entering her living space Inuyasha couldn’t help but to be engulfed by her smell. It was everywhere.

The smell was difficult to describe in one word, but he knew it would engrave itself into his brain. The intoxicating smell was emanating from every corner of the room and as if his mind allowed him to, he suddenly remembered the situation he was in. He quickly closed the front door and made his way past the entry and into her living space. Looking around to his left a small kitchen and to his right a door. He opened it expecting her bedroom yet was greeted with a suffocating small bathroom. Grunting he closed the door back and made his way to the living room, the girl still in tow in his arms.

“Is this where she lives?” He looked around the room. A small t.v. on a short bookshelf and a rolled futon were tucked nicely in a corner. A rectangular small coffee table which he could only guess doubled as her dining table was off center below her one large window. And the only average size furnishings he could see was a tall dresser and a study desk next to it. Other than her desk decorated with open books, a cup of writing utensils and a lamp, the rest of her home was relatively clean.

He placed her gently on the floor and walked towards her futon and began rolling it out.

“Ya know, this place is tiny as hell. How do you even live like this?” Inuyasha wasn’t expecting an answer and was happy to not surprisingly hear one back. He picked her up and placed her on her futon, her weight pushing against the pillows and mat made her captivating sent valley up into his nose. He grunted, he wasn’t sure why she smelled so amazing to him, but it was really starting to get on his nerves. Wanting to leave even faster he quickly took off her shoes and grabbed her purse. He placed her purse on her desk chair, not really knowing where it would go and placed her shoes at the door entryway. Making sure to lock the lock on the doorknob, he left her, hoping she’d believe their encounter to be only a dream.

[alwaysanotherrainbow]

aftermath

warnings: food mentions, remus gorey thoughts, sharp mention

ship: remrom

Remus has forgotten a card for Roman’s gift, and the two of them are left to clean up the aftermath from the Prince’s birthday party.

________________________________________________________________

It came as a shock to absolutely no-one that the common house was full of glitter after Roman’s party.

A dying Bluetooth speaker replayed Don’t Stop Believing, its music tinny and hollow as the vocals lapsed in and out and the phone’s virtual assistant sang Battery low over and over. Remus stuck some half-melted vanilla bean ice cream in the fridge before putting red velvet cake into the freezer; it took him a few seconds to rectify his mistake. 

Roman hummed as he swept up pieces of foil confetti. 

“I didn’t forget your gift, you know,” Remus said absentmindedly as he picked up a pompom and put it in a bag. “I wanted it to be ready for you, I didn’t wanna give you something bad or that you wouldn’t like.”

“If it’s from you, I’d like it.”

“If I gave you smallpox, you wouldn’t like it.”

“Well, that’s smallpox. No-one likes it. Besides, I don’t think that was what you were planning on giving me.”

“Shit, you’ve got me there.” Remus glanced around before jumping up and tugging down the tinsel-like Happy Birthday, Roman! banner. “There. Common room, restored.”

Roman dumped the confetti in the wastebin. “You’re right, dandelion. Back to its former glory.”

“If we can get the glitter off the ceiling.”

“Yeah..”

“How on earth did we get it there, anyways?”

“Probably with the saline water-balloon that we infused with glitter?”

Roman laughed, going to the fridge and grabbing himself a juicebox. “Want one?”

“Please.”

Remus liked stabbing the straw through the cardboard, not through the spot where the straw was meant to go. Roman drank his as it was meant to go, summoning some paper, crayons, and two pens, one green and one red.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’ve got an idea and I want to write it out,” said Roman. 

“You know... I forgot to write a card for my gift.”

“Dear, you don’t have to.”

“I know, but I want to.”

“...Hey, do you want to do what we used to, where we work on things together and compare?”

Remus nodded, grabbing a pen and getting to work.

It was a strange environment to work in, with the paper they were using still flecked with crimson glitter from the table. Roman shook his head at the scarlet crayon and reached for a brick-red at the same moment that Remus was carefully shading in his drawing with the ballpoint pen’s residue ink. From time to time, they took sips of their drinks.

“I’m done,” said Roman a few minutes after the Bluetooth speaker had died, flipping his paper so that it was impossible to see.

“I am, too.” Remus covered up the paper by leaning his upper body on the tabletop. “Don’t look at me like that, I promise it won’t smudge.”

“On the count of three, we reveal them.”

“Okay! One, knife--”

“...I’m sorry, knife?”

“To be completely fair to me, you did say on three, not that I couldn’t say knife.”

Roman smiled. “You know what, that’s fair.”

“All right.” They counted together. “One, knife, two, three!”

They revealed their drawings.

Roman stared at Remus’ ink-portrait. It was of surprisingly good quality, with Remus smiling as he pointed to a surprisingly non-gorey hole in his chest (it was shaped like a cartoon heart, just allowing the other side to show through) and a “Wanted” poster of Roman. It read, Handsome Prince wanted! He stole my heart. Reward: lots of kisses and cuddles. Happy birthday xx -- your dandelion >:)

“Is that for me?” whispered Roman. “You’ve beaten me at my own game. I.. I wanna keep it forever and ever.”

“You’re telling me?” Remus asked as he pointed to Roman’s work.

Roman’s drawing, on the other hand, was a pink rose dripping tar, drops of dew on it. It read in beautiful calligraphy, You’ve taken my breath away, dandelion. Thank you for an absolutely amazing year. -- your prince, forever yours.

“That’s a freaking masterpiece, Roman, I... Fuck, I’d embroider that onto my soul in a heartbeat. You can keep mine, it’s for you and no-one else.”

“I’ll find a nice frame for it. Something that nice ought to be displayed, if you’re okay with it.”

“I’m keeping this in my special-gifts-from-Roman chest and never ever letting anyone else hold it! Ooh, that reminds me.” He reached into his pocket. “I got you a really nice gift, I think you’ll like it-- here!”

He handed Roman a small brass contraption of gears and emblems. It was the size of a golfball, with all sorts of patterned perforations.

“Er, I love it, but what is it?”

“I’m giving you the stars.” Remus tapped it with his fingertip; the contraption began to glow. “Here, let’s go to the common living room.”

They stepped into the room adjacent to the kitchen. No-one else was there; however, it wasn’t free from the glitter that had defined Roman’s party. They’d need to clean it up later.

“Okay, we’re ready! Turn off the light!”

Roman flicked the switch.

The room sank into darkness, but all around them, glimmers of light began to shine. It was like a living night sky, constellations moving of their own accord and the glitter scattered from the party refracting back little pinpoints of starshine.

“And just tap it again to turn it off,” explained Remus. “So, er, what do you--”

“It’s perfect,” whispered Roman, taking a step towards the wall which now displayed Orion the Hunter, which gently moved along. “It’s so wonderful... You literally gave me the stars?”

“Psh, it was nothing! I am glad you like it, though.”

“Remus, I don’t know how I’m going to outdo you for your birthday. Nothing could top this.”

“Heck, no need to worry about outdoing me! You don’t even have to get me anything.”

“But I want to.”

“Sweetie, I’ll love anything you give me, and I do mean absolutely anything.”

Roman smiled. “You know what I wished for this year, and what I’m wishing for on these stars?”

Remus leaned in for a kiss; when Roman leaned forward, too, he pressed his lips to his. 

“Don’t tell me,” whispered Remus when they pulled apart, “or it won’t come true.”

“It just did come true, though, when you pressed your lips against mine.”

“You hopeless romantic, you.”

“It is in my name. Er, or am I in its name...? Well, it doesn’t matter. Thanks, dear dandelion.”

Remus smiled, wrapping his arm around Roman’s waist as they settled onto the sofa. “Happy birthday, Princey.”

[kamino-ink]

Wounds | Lee Minho

✧ Genre: Soulmate!au, floof, lowkey suggestive, uhh lemme get some anGst

✧ Summary: You’ve always been aware that Lee Minho was your soulmate, ever since you were kids - but you were too naïve about the world and figured waiting to tell him would be a better idea. Everything starts to go downhill when he says he thinks the system is utter bullshit.

✧ Word Count: 3.7k

✧ Want to read other parts of this series? Check out my masterlist!

                                         ✧

 The whole entire soulmate system was complete and utter bullshit. What kind of world were people to live in where you couldn’t choose who to love, rather the universe meticulously wrote it down in fine ink since the way you were born - nobody got a real choice. Obnoxious soulmate bonds tended to become true nuisances to most in their day to day lives, leaving little room for them to think about anything else, really. Why wait for that one person who could literally be anywhere on the fucking planet when you could find someone who you choose to fall in love with and cherish till the end of your days?

 Those were the exact words that poured out between Lee Minho’s pink lips, effectively sucking the life out of you the second he started to curse the very existence of soulmates yet again.

 “Dude, who put a stick up your ass this morning?” Changbin snorted from across the living room, bringing his glass of coke up to his lips and taking a long, drawn out sip with a quirked eyebrow.

 You felt your world - no, your entire universe start to crumble around your very being, sat upon the couch just inches away from brushing against the resilient man’s arms that he’d sourly crossed over his chest.

 “Come on Changbin, not everyone is as lucky as the rest of you fucks. For all I know my soulmate could be halfway across the world in another country. The possibility of us actually running into each other is zero to none.”

 “That makes it all the more exhilarating. Imagine finally meeting the person you are literally destined to be with on like, a vacation in Paris or some shit. Now that is some quality young adult romance material.”

 “Vacationing in Paris - yeah, with what fucking money?” Minho retorts sharply, dramatically waving his arms around to gesture all around his small studio apartment.

 “You’re so pessimistic, Lee. Any man or woman would be attracted to a nurse-”

 “Oh sure, because my paycheck is so good that I have to live in a fuckass apartment at my age - how dreamy.”

 Sure, Minho liked to talk shit about his studio apartment, and you couldn’t really blame him half of the time since his home was super small compared to his friends’ places; not to mention he lived right beside an apartment housing a couple that never stopped going at it. Whatever noise complaints he had were dismissed with a lazy shrug, meaning the poor guy had to stuff his ears in the dead of night just to get some decent sleep.

 But then again, he had turned the small living space into something quite nice and, obviously, livable. The walls were painted a plain white, but Minho has spiced up the place by sticking some brick wallpaper onto a couple of the walls, as well as hanging up cute little houseplants here and there, scattered about the apartment. He also had two cats who got their fur everywhere.

 Not that you were complaining.

 “Y/N agrees with me, right?” Minho snaps at Changbin, quickly turning all of his attention just onto you within seconds. “I mean you don’t even know what your connection to your soulmate is.”

 “N-nope, still don’t know for sure. Could be anything for all I know.” You replied, your voice shaking slightly out of sheer nervousness and hurt. Minho hadn’t meant to intentionally hurt your feelings, and especially not in such a crude manner, but you couldn’t help the tugging at your heartstrings with his blunt statements.

 “See? That’s my girl, always got my back.” The man coos playfully as he leans into your side, slinging an arm loosely over your shoulders from behind to pull your closer to him. “We don’t need that stupid soulmate shit, yeah? I’ll find a great man or woman to marry and you’ll do the same. We can do some cheesy stuff and go on double dates!”

 You find yourself falling into a daze while weakly nodding in fake agreement with your friend, shifting your gaze so you wouldn’t have to feel the pain of making eye contact with him. While Changbin quickly snaps back at the brunette, initiating yet another argument between them with you quite literally stuck in the middle of it all, you take a moment to look down at the sleeve of your hoodie on your left arm. The material has ridden up just enough for someone to possibly spot the gauze lining your skin, but you discretely slide the sleeve down your arm again before either of the two arguing men can notice.

 Minho, on the other hand, lets his bandaged wound be seen by the whole world, still donning his short-sleeved pajamas from the night before. It is in the exact same spot your wound was, decorating the skin of your left arm just under your marginally scraped elbow.

 The other day you’d been mindlessly wandering around the heart of the city after meeting up with Minho for a diner date - well it technically wasn’t labeled as a date, but it still felt like one; and that was real enough for you to accept, at least. In the midst of your otherwise peaceful walk back home, two younger girls had skated by on the already narrow sidewalk, one of them accidently shoving you to the ground in an attempt to catch up to her friend who’d managed to speed ahead of her. The worst of the impact had been on your elbow and left arm, since you’d immediately tried to lessen the pain of the fall by landing on that spot - course you underestimated the roughness of the cement, leaving you with an ugly spot of missing skin and a bloodied elbow.

 And of course Minho had to go through the same exact pain as you, since that was essentially your connection - or, lack for a better term, your soulmate bond. Whenever one of you injured yourself, whether it be a teensy papercut or a scrape on your leg, the other person got the same exact injury on their body in the very same place.

 “- but you still know what your soulmate connection is, dumbass! Your other half is out there somewhere, fuck they’re probably wondering where the hell you are by now!”

 “Well fuck them, alright!” The man beside you boomed loudly, having clearly lost any and all patience with your other friend across the room. “I get to choose who I fall in love with, and they’ll just have to suck it up and deal with it. In fact, I have a date on Thursday with a person who is not my soulmate, and she is a fantastic girl who also thinks this whole system is a bunch of horse-shit!”

 That was the last straw.

 You abruptly stand up from the plush gray couch, tossing Minho’s arm off of your shoulders and onto the comfy material in a rush of mixed emotions. Their voices that had been so relentless in their harsh jabs at one another suddenly converged into one stunning harmony, calling out to you in worry; one more so with confusion, the other oddly knowing. Bearing no other utterance of a goodbye, you slip on your shoes sat by the front door and hurry out of the cozy home, quietly shutting the door behind your still retreating figure.

 “W-why did Y/N run out like that? Did... did I say something?”

 Changbin sighed softly to himself, staring sympathetically at the empty spot on the couch next to the concerned nurse.

 “She really has faith in this stuff, Minho, you should know that by now. Out of all of us, I’m pretty sure she’s the one most looking forward to being with her soulmate one day.”

 “Jisung for the last time, I do not want to go to the fucking party.”

 “Aww come on, Y/N! It’ll be fun, I promise!”

 “No.”

 “... fine, but that means you’re letting me spend the night and picking out movies to watch.”

 See, that was why you liked Han Jisung so much; while the kid liked to go out and party until the sun rose above the hillside, he never tried to force you into attending one with him - he respected how you preferred to stay home on Saturdays, taking the day off to simply relax in the mindless comfort of your own home.

 “Tell you what, we’ll go to the damn party-”

 “Yes!”

 “- but afterwards you’re paying for pizza and friend chicken. Deal?”

 You also knew how much Jisung liked for you two to actually be together and hang out like the best friends you were. He often abandoned his plans just for you, so you figured doing the same for him couldn’t hurt too much.

 “Deal!”

 Needless to say, you had been incredibly wrong, straying so far from the truth that when it finally hit you like a ton of bricks, you quite nearly puked on the spot.

 The party Jisung had managed to drag you to was a simple high school one, which meant there were underaged teenagers drinking their night away and making out with upperclassmen that would graduate in just a few months time, promptly leaving the hopeful boys and girls in their trail of dust. You weren’t at all similar to them when you were their age, instead choosing to pine after one of your male best friends that just so happened to be your soulmate - the person fate destined you to be with for the rest of your life.

 Said soulmate was in the middle of shoving his sinful tongue down another woman’s throat, husky noises bubbling from between his plump, slightly bruised lips when you and the blonde senior had stumbled into a vacant bedroom to, you know, raid the shelves of video games and duke it out while the other teens fucked around downstairs.

 “Minho?” His name slips past your parted lips, though it doesn’t even come close to catching his attention, nor the woman’s. Only moments ago you’d been a giggling mess, stumbling up the wooden stairs with a bubbly Jisung in excitement since he had overheard that the host let one of the guest rooms upstairs be open for anyone who felt uncomfortable or wanted to just hang out during the mess that was most certainly a stereotypical high school bash.

 But now... now you can feel your already frail heart starting to shatter like glass inside your chest. Because you fucking blew it. You chose not to tell the man that you were his soulmate, and that he was yours - that you were in love with him.

 Because he always spewed nonsense about disliking the entire system since you were kids, you were inclined not to speak of your bond with him at the tender ages you were at back then - besides, you were still mere children that screamed cooties when someone of the opposite gender was even affectionate towards another. Surely his opinions would diverge in the future.

 Except, they never did; in anything he became even more upfront with his thoughts on the ideals of fate as time flew by, cursing and challenging the universe with every other breath he took. While his blunt words had always left a lingering sense of regret in the back of your mind, nothing could have possibly prepared you for the condemning feeling of heartbreak that rolled over your frozen figure in the doorway of the guest room.

 “Dude, what the fuck?”

 You can just barely make out Jisung’s snort of disapproval and disgust at the sight before the both of you, and for a fleeting moment you watch as the two moaning adults hurriedly pull back from one another’s bodies as if the other was burning like a candlestick.

 “A-ah shit - um, guys, this is Ginny. She’s the girl I went out with on Thursday.” The breathless man explains, offering an awkward smile that compliments his even more embarrassed, flushing cheeks while his brown gaze darts between his two friends and his date. There’s a bit of a tent in his pants and there’s crimson lipstick smeared across his lips and neck. If you two hadn’t accidently walked in, then they would’ve taken another step further.

 The mere thought of Minho, the man you had so helplessly fallen in love with, having sex with another person crushed your soul. He was his own person, yes, but you felt the selfish urge to claim him as your own because fate wrote it so. Fate destined you two to join in a loving union, and you had fallen into its deadly trap - perhaps that was why it hurt so much more than it would have, had you not fallen in love with your best friend.

 So like any logical person who happened to be foolishly in love with their best friend and also happened to coincidently walk in on said best friend having a rather heated make out session with another wonderful human being, you turned tail and shot down the stairs of the house, ignoring Jisung’s call of confusion and Minho’s stunned shout for you to come back.

 Yeah, as if any logical person would walk right back into the very room their best friend was so about to have sex in - what was he thinking?

 “Y-Y/N, wait up!”

 What was he thinking?

 “Come on baby, slow down!”

 What were you thinking?

 “What do you want, Minho?”

 Why had you chosen to fall in love with the one man that didn’t believe in soulmates?

 “I - fuck, I’m sorry you had to see... that.” He goes to apologize breathlessly, as if he hadn’t just tore your heart out of your chest and stomped on it repeatedly.

 “So am I.” Is all you can say in response, too afraid that any other words you might utter would seal your fate and his own; one of likely rejection or awkward silences between two people - one of which was in love with the other, the second friend only seeing the other as just that, a friend.

 His bruised lips part to speak again, but you decide that you really need to split before he can unknowingly cause a mental breakdown in your head. With a swift turn on the heels of your feet, you face the other direction and begin to walk through the semi-crowded kitchen, the tips of your fingers gliding across the countertops to help steer you away from the center of the drunk crowd of teenagers.

 Without warning a sharp, searing pain runs up your veins all the way to the nerves of your hand grazing the gray countertops - it takes all of your self control not to let out a yelp of pain, although a weak, befuddled whimper does escape your lips in the heat of the moment.

 “Ow - what the fuck?” Minho hissed in unison with your whimper of utter pain, having started to follow close behind you in the sea of teens hovering in the already cramped kitchen area. “The fuck just cut my fingers-? Wait, are you bleeding?”

 You’d been in the middle of raising your bloodied fingers to your eyes to investigate the new wounds, little cuts from a stray knife carelessly splayed on the countertop stretching across three of your five fingers when Minho directed his attention towards you downcast gaze and red fingertips.

 He glanced to your wounds, and then his own.

 He hadn’t been using the countertop as a guide like you had been, as his arms had been pressed firmly against his sides to prevent himself from brushing against the other partygoers.

 “Is - is this your connection, Y/N?”

 “Do you mean our connection, Minho? Or should I go ask the pretty redhead in the bedroom if her bond is where she can suddenly have injuries appear on her body because her clumsy soulmate never stops getting hurt?” You’re not quite sure why you’re so furious with the man, and you know that by tomorrow morning you’ll be sending him various messages of apologizes for your rash, hurtful jabs. You knew it wasn’t right, blaming him of all people - but it hurt.

 “Our... connection?” He fumbles on his words, his eyes now searching yours for undying consolation - and he finds it, flashing across your now teary eyes as you stare at him.

 You can recall when and where you figured out Lee Minho was your soulmate. The both of you lived in a rural town not too far from the heart of the bustling city, growing up around cattle and barrels of yellow hay rather than flashing lights and nights of blaring music in the clubs across the streets. Naturally the two of you had grown close, labelling each other as the other’s “super-duper-bestest-friend” by the ripe age of six.

 Neither of you knew too much about soulmates and all that mumbo-jumbo the older kids and adults talked about pretty much 24/7, choosing to block their sweet confessions of love and endearment to one another by running around the park closest to your houses or going for a dip in the pond behind your fence.

 That particular day, though, Minho had dragged you to the quaint pond filled with cute orange fish the size of your pinkies and green frogs that croaked well into the late hours of the night. He wanted to try out “fishing” by catching the orange fish with his bare hands, that of course being the first mistake that day.

 You chose to simply watch the adorable black haired boy splashing away in the chilly water of the lone pond, your bottom sat upon a rounded stone a couple feet away; perhaps half an hour had passed when suddenly you felt an odd stinging sensation on the palm of your right hand, and at the same exact time you recalled hearing Minho let out a shriek of pain as he slipped his right hand out of the pond to cradle it into his chest.

 But even after finding out that it was your special bond with Minho, your soulmate, you kept your connection secret all the way until now by simply stating that you weren’t sure what your bond was. You wanted to see if you could convince Minho to see that fate was written for a reason, though you never forced your ideals upon him no matter how much it stung to hear him scrutinize the deep bond between the two of you - not that he had known, obviously.

 “Baby - I didn’t know, I’m so sorry.”

 You cut off his apologies with a shake of your head, backing away while you now cradle your bloodied hand into your chest. “Nothing would have changed, Minho. I should have realized that so much sooner.”

 And then you walk away, leaving behind your soulmate to collect his thoughts.

 Sunday mornings were usually a state of calm serenity for you, since you didn’t have any classes or shifts at work. They were days that resembled healing in your eyes, especially since you really needed some good time alone after the events of the night before.

 You wanted to scream and cry into a pillow all day long, in all honesty.

 You’re still lying alone in bed, tucked underneath the warm layer of a fuzzy brown blanket you’d been gifted last Christmas wrapped around your body like a sushi roll when you hear the unmistakable sound of your doorbell ringing. You know damn well who it is and why they’re at your doorstep - but you didn't feel ready to face them and own up to your mistakes and critical words.

 Somehow you get yourself to roll out of bed, not bothering to look all too presentable as you slowly saunter all the way to the front door where he is certain to be waiting anxiously.

 I can do this, I can do this, I can-

 “-Before you shut the door on me, please hear me out,” Minho pleads out to you in a rush of breath, his hands behind his back as he takes your silence into consideration, “okay I think that’s the go-ahead... Y/N, I still think people should be given the chance to fall in love with whoever they choose to,”

 Did he really need to remind you?

 “but I also think I like you - scratch that, I know I like you more than as a friend. I never tried to make a move on you because our views differed so greatly, and I know it was wrong of me to try and make you see my point of view in the middle of an argument. You always seemed so excited about the prospect of being with your soulmate, which I guess is technically me from what I understand, so I backed off.” He admits, occasionally having to force himself to slow down and say each word carefully so he wouldn’t be too overbearing.

 “Minho - you don’t need to apologize, I do. I should have told you sooner that I knew.” You breathe out softly, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion when he vehemently shakes his head in disagreement.

 “Lets just stop right there, because we could keep apologizing to each other for days and I don’t think these poor things will live that long without fresh water.”

 “What-?”

 “Ta-da! Flowers for the lovely light of my life,” he hums cheerfully, bringing out a small but beautiful bouquet of flowers from behind his back to told them out in front of his face, peeking out form behind them with red cheeks and a nervous smile, “I um, I hope this isn’t too cheesy. I’m kinda hoping that you might give me a chance and go on a date with me-”

 “Of course I will, cheesehead - here, let me put these in a vase and we can discuss where we’ll be going on our date.”

                                         ✧

[blackasteriia]

Isa

@lunsai​ ☾

He didn’t want to tell anyone about this but when you’re sick with what feels like bronchitis for a month it’s hard to hide away and have no one but the most important person to you notice. Xion found out long before Lea did, which Isa was sure bruised his poor heart, about Isa being stuck sick & once word traveled they were all like one united, powerful force to get him to finally see the doctor. He wish he hadn’t seen the damn doctor. 

After they had gotten home, after Xemnas and Isa had their moment of self-reflection and resolution, Xion was the first to know again. This time it wasn’t happenstance but because she had a precious skill that Xemnas urged Isa to utilize, but the idea of Isa asking Xion to save his life after the destruction he caused to her own heart seemed so laughably ironic. Ironic, and yet he did it anyways.

He would beg her, even get on his knees if he had to, just so he had the chance to breath again just like everyone else. He didn’t even know if her powers could replace scar tissue and mend an unbending ventricle, if she could erase the damage of having his body ripped apart twice over as well as the genetic trap he was trapped inside of along with his father. 

His father had died of a heart attack at 40, Isa was ten years younger than that -- if he had lived a normal life, how long could it have lasted? With a harsh swallow he cleared his throat, blinking away tears for his unfortunate circumstances, and turned to look away from Xion. 

“Please,” Isa let out, attempting to smother the way it croaked out and remained resolved even when he was begging to live. “If you could help me, then please, help me. I have... I can’t, die. I can’t.” 

He stops, biting his lip and looking at her finally. “It’ s only been a few years since got it back, I have so much I need to do. So much that I’ve built with hi--” He swallows harshly. “No one wants to die, you know? I don’t want to.”

Xion noticed first. The coughing, the physical weakness and pain, the way strength and vigor seeped from Isa’s body as though he were poisoned. Xion dealt primarily with trauma injuries: broken arms, cuts, wounds, sprains, lodged objects, etc. As per the the requirements of the infirmary. She left the difficult diagnostic and prognosis work to Even; Often following his guidance. By no means Xion’s training was complete, but she was learning and as Even put it, she had an eye for detail. Perhaps she had encouraged Lea to encourage Isa to the doctor. Then Xemnas’ request to her and then Lea’s request, and then this. 

Xion sat at her desk in the infirmary, papers spread-out, files spilled and a half-drunk mug of coffee sitting cold by her computer. One arm draped over the back of her chair, looking-up to where Isa loomed over her. He was near dead on his feet and about to fall over at any second. 

Saïx was five years away. The final scar, a gift from his claymore, stretched still over the skin of her back. On rainy days it stretched painful; But blank ink flourished in flowers and delicate lines hid it. In that time she met isa, a quiet, pitiful man; Who was in many ways gentle, filled with regret and fear. She watched Lea and Xemnas fall in love in part; Could see the fractures in their still new hearts to see Isa’s literally break. Forget all that shit, forget the occasional nightmares that haunted her, even if compassion did not move Xion, reason would. 

Even made her promise, even as he renewed his own vow, to do no harm. Beneficence, maximize pleasure, minimize suffering. Xion was proof of the wrong path that medicine could turn down. Even as a little girl, still playing with cures and crying over hurting wounds, Xion had always known her intentions. The world was cruel to her, she knew what it was like to have a back turned to her, a door closed in her face. She would never turn someone away, never let her pride swallow her tongue: Never say no to those she could help.

She stood, chair sliding out from beneath her.  

“Of course, you know,” Xion began. “That the left side of your heart is failing. The left ventricle pulls oxygen enriched blood from the lungs for the rest of the body to use.  Because it is weakened and not doing its damn job, blood will build in your lungs, causing your coughing fits. It will cause edema, swelling in your joints and ankles. Overtime the chance of your mortality will increase, decreasing your quality of life. If nothing is done? You will die an early death.”

She repeated what Even told him. All so they were on the same page. Xion glanced down at her desk. Her old knife, attained during her first journey after leaving the Organization was laid by her keyboard. She had been using it to clean her fingernails earlier. A little black steel thing with a sharp edge and worn blade. She picked it up, sheath and all; Perhaps her arming herself didn’t make Isa feel much better, but she was thinking of a point.

“Now, if we made a list,” Xion said, her hip braced against the edge of her desk. “Of impossible things that could never happen when we met eight years ago at Castle Oblivion, me helping you recover from heart failure would probably be right at the top of it. Here’s what I’d put at second--”

Xion unsheathed the knife and for a second regarded the blade, eyes half-lidded. Then she touched the edge to her palm and nicked her skin. A short slit that bled crimson blood. Xion pulled a tissue from a box on her desk and wiped off the blade before laying it back on the table. She presented her hand to Isa, she felt no pain and continued casually:

“You saw me,” She murmured. “I had no eyes. No bones, no organs, no blood; I was just human shaped magic. When you called me a puppet, you were right. And yet, here we are, I am bleeding.”

Now she met his eyes, emerald green to black obsidian. Her hair was cropped and styled by a professional, dressed fashionably in a halter top, dress pants, and a lab coat. She appeared twenty-one but she was actually no older than eight. Somewhere in the midst of a college degree, apprenticed to the most intelligent men and women of the generation, and a guardian of light. It was quite the resume. Xion took pride where she could.

Only looking back did she acknowledge that there were a lot of places where she got lucky. Where kindness helped her along. All those people who stepped-up after the end of Xehanort’s plans to guide and take care of her. People who opened their doors to her, people who taught her what it meant to be human. Isa was one of them, as absurd as it was, the way he reached-out, tried to grow and change, make-up for his past mistakes. He learned to love, and it was beautiful, and Xion’s smile glowed when she looked at him-- because she had seen all that. 

“And now, after all I’ve learned,” Xion whispered. “I can also do this.” 

She turned-out her palm for him to see. She weaved gold and white cure between her fingers, sophisticated, delicate but exact, smelling of the rain and flowers, sweet but gentle. Before his eyes the cut healed, closing, leaving not even a mark. She departed from his side and to a nearby sink, where she watched her hands of blood. Drying her hands on a towel she returned to Isa’s side. 

“Magic is not a miracle,” Xion said. “It can’t just fix you, I can’t just fix you. Only you can do that. I won’t promise you’ll live to ninety, but sixty? Seventy, even? We can manage that, absolutely. Everyone has to die but you don’t have to die now. And maybe soon, you could walk again, even run. I’m glad you told me you don’t want to die, because that’s where we need to start. You must have the will to fight, without it you might as well keel over now.”

Xion reached-out to take his hand in hers. Just as she once did at the kitchen table. His fingers was still so thin, but weaker now, his grip evaporated, strength stolen by this disease that afflicted his heart.  Xion was once so weak, incapable of bearing the weight of even one, tiny little heart that she grew in her chest like a petri dish. Eight years, when her time in the Organization was but a sliver of her past and she was older than she was ever intended to be, she was stronger. Taller too, so much so that her gaze leveled with his. Isa could take everything she gave and run with it, never look back to say thanks, and she’d be alright with that.

“I will help you,” Xion said. “So long, as you are willing to be helped.”

[ellemany]

We are Young - Part 2

<<<Previous Part

Part 2

Recommended Music: We are young - Fun. ft. Janelle Monáe

 To open a lock it only needs two hairpins, patience and some skills. Opening a biometrically-sealed door at the base of the Valorant Protocol required a knife, two pieces of bubblegum, and a vague knowledge of programming and circuit breakers.

 Phoenix was impressed to find that Yoru actually had all these qualities.

 - Where did you learn to do this?

 - Here and there. - Yoru shrugged, chewing gum.

 The Brit nodded slowly, watching with fascination as the other broke into Chamber's private cellar, which was locked by both biometrics and a padlock. He knew Chamber loved wine, but had no idea he was capable of installing a protection system for his drinks, complete with various traps around the cellar. Only that wasn't Yoru's proof. He managed to get a portal into the apartment. He teleported into the other dimension and taped the trap sensors before starting work on the usual security after opening the front door to Phoenix.

 - Ready. - Yoru opened the cellar, looking at the wines. - I think he has something here from the Medieval era. - He raised an eyebrow, picking up a bottle with the faded label. - 1948? - Yoru made an indignant face. - Why doesn't he share this shit??

 Phoenix took the bottle from his hand, eyeing it.

 - I bet it's spoiled and he only uses it to show off.

 Yoru looked from Phoenix to the bottle and nodded, picking up another random bottle.

 - Let’s go. - He closed the cellar with his foot, going for the apartment door.

 - Oh no no no! - Phoenix placed a hand on Yoru's shoulder, making him stop. - Where do you think you're going?

 Yoru frowned at Phoenix. As he focused on the task of breaking into Chamber's apartment, his usual sobriety and bad temper returned.

 - Kick your fucking ass for getting between me and the fancy wine. What about that?

 - Dude, we're at Chamber's apartment. - The look Phoenix sent Yoru made him feel extremely dumb. The Japanese wandered his eyes around the luxurious place, lingering on a painting of Chamber himself that must have cost him his organs, body and soul. He felt like ripping it apart just out of anger. Who the hell had a painting of themselves in the living room? Especially in a temporary apartment. - Aren't you going to enjoy it?

 Yoru moistened his lips, looking away from the Ink Chamber.

 - I might not be the best thief in the world yet… - Yoru began, trying hard not to look away from Chamber's upright piano. Even though it wasn't a grand piano, it appeared to be made of real wood and had details of... Pure gold?? - But I already know you shouldn't stay too long at a crime scene.

 - We are beginners bro. We have to allow ourselves to make mistakes. - Before Yoru could argue, Phoenix pulled him into the apartment, handing him the bottle he was holding. - Stay there. I'll take the goblets. 

 Phoenix went to Chamber's kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards. Even the guy's pans looked high-tech.

 Yoru looked around, turning back to the piano again. He walked over to the instrument, placing the wine bottles on top of it. He wandered his free hand over the óano keys, trying to make some decent music out of there. He failed.

 - Oooh Monsieur Yoru! - Phoenix returned holding two crystal goblets. - Tres bien!

 Yoru blinked twice, raising an eyebrow.

 - Cringe? - Phoenix passed the glasses to Yoru, tilting his head to the side.

 - Too much.

 - It was worth trying. - Phoenix took the bottle of older wine, opening it. - Ha! Without spilling a drop! - The Brit smiled smugly.

 Yoru rolled his eyes with a smile handing the glasses to Phoenix.

 - Shall we toast again?

 - Sure! - Phoenix smiled excitedly, pouring the wine into the glasses. He set the bottle on the piano, then took his glass. - For now. Because an asteroid could hit Earth in five minutes.

 Yoru pressed his lips, holding out his glass to Phoenix, toasting.

 - For the moments that were not spoiled by the catastrophes.

 - Poetic. - Phoenix nodded with pleasure, drinking his wine along with Yoru.

 As soon as he tasted the drink, Phoenix regurgitated, taking a few steps back. Yoru grimaced, swallowing in disgust.

 - It was really spoiled.

 - Fuck Chamber, it was a joke! - Phoenix stuck his tongue out, trying to get the bad taste out. - Damn that's disgusting.

 - Open another bottle. - Yoru sighed, looking at Chamber's painting. - Who the hell has a fucking picture of themselves, man?

 - Ah… - Phoenix looked at the painting, pouting as he opened the bottle. - I would have such a picture of me.

 - Because you're a narcissist.

 - No, man. You're so... Shallow. - Yoru looked at Phoenix raising an eyebrow. Of all the curses they'd ever exchanged, this one had probably been the worst. Phoenix filled his wine glass, filling Yoru's next.

 - Go on specialist. Explains the complexity of the thing. - Yoru crossed his arms, holding the cup between his fingers.

 - Umm... - Phoenix took a big gulp of wine, much tastier than the last. He approached the painting, tilting his head to the side. - He's not perfect. The dimple on one side is very evident, his strange nose is clear. He loves those tattoos, do you really think they'd be so matte if it were up to him? - Phoenix held the cup between his fingers, placing a hand on his chin. - This painting is nothing about him. It's about how one sees him.

 Yoru looked from Phoenix to the painting, noting the traces of the painting. The smile was instinctive, natural. If it wasn't for Chamber there, Yoru might even smile. She focused on his eyes, the windows of the soul. Bright from the smile, but looking closely, it looked like there were tears there. Chamber's posture was also tense, with his hands flexed so he could see his hamstrings. He was smiling, but holding back the tears.

 Yoru wondered how someone who was modeling for an expensive painting could be so seemingly happy and at the same time so sad.

 If Yoru looked at that painting longer, he would end up identifying too much with Chamber. Even the rich bastard was wearing a mask. 

 - If you could be anyone... - Yoru said, looking away from the painting. - Who would you be?

 Phoenix sipped his wine, throwing his head back.

 - Why would I want to be someone else besides myself?

 - Everyone wants to be someone else.

 - I like being me.

 - For real?

 - For real.

 Yoru sipped his wine, wondering if he wanted to remain himself forever.

 - I like you.

 Yoru turned to Phoenix, blinking.

 - For real?

 Phoenix nodded, walking around the apartment and picking up the bottle of wine.

 - For real. - He said, going to Chamber's room, tipping the bottle.

 Yoru turned to Chamber's painting, looking at him.

 Yoru was sad, complicated and annoying. He didn't see much in himself to be likable. But if someone as kind as Phoenix liked him… Maybe he should give himself a chance.

 After all, he was too young to hate himself to death. He decided to start there, in small steps, to like himself more.

 And that was a grand act.

 Music began to play through the apartment. Yoru followed the melody, heading to Chamber's room. He found the Brit standing on top of a large bed, still drinking from the neck. Phoenix's eyes blazed with fire as he saw Yoru, putting the bottle down.

 - Dance With Me. - Phoenix asked, doing a silly dance.

 Yoru watched him for a few seconds, until he nodded, climbing onto the bed. He started dancing with Phoenix, following the song whose lyrics he didn't understand. Alcohol seemed to have more effect. However, unlike all the other times he drank, Yoru wanted to laugh. He laughed and jumped on the bed, followed by Phoenix who also laughed for no reason.

 After all, they were too young not to laugh for no reason.

 Phoenix slipped on the sheet, falling onto the bed. The wine spilled all over him.

 - Oh shit.-  Phoenix held the bottle, grimacing. He watched Yoru laughing about him, until he smirked. - Lil Nas X.

 - Umm? - Yoru raised an eyebrow, with a lingering smile.

 - If I wanted to be someone else, which I don't, it would be Lil Nas X. I won't explain.

 Yoru thought for a while and nodded. He flopped down on the bed beside Phoenix, staring at the ceiling, dizzy as ever.

 - And you? - Phoenix asked, lying on his side.

 Yoru shrugged, putting his hands behind his head.

 - I don't know... - He smirked. - I liked this idea of ​​being me... After all... I'm too amazing. - Yoru laughed, following Phoenix's train of thought, seeing himself through other eyes. - I have blue hair. The perfect stereotype of a bad guy. I built my image well out there... And I can teleport, fuck it, I'm badass. If we're in fps, only an idiot wouldn't want to play with me. By the way... If I get shot tomorrow and die... I want you to talk in my.. - Yoru turned to the side, looking at Phoenix. The Brit had his eyes closed, sleeping peacefully. Yoru smirked, lying on his side, watching the other's serenity. Yoru didn't remember when his mouth had pulled up in so many smiles, nor when he'd talked as much as he did that night. - Thanks… - He whispered, getting closer to Phoenix. He closed his eyes, feeling as peaceful as ever. The calm of that small moment should have been infinite.

 He only opened his eyes when the sun was flooding the room and someone was screaming... Oh no.

 - MERDE! WHAT ARE YOU TWO IMBÉCILES DOING HERE???

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Thank you for reading!

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