#i don’t really think anyone would reupload this but i’m putting the warning out just in case

[slit-skirts]

Roger Daltrey on his way to a meeting at the Rayburn House Office Building on behalf of his charity, Teen Cancer America.

© William Snyder, 2016

DO NOT REUPLOAD THIS ANYWHERE ELSE.

[skelswritingcorner]

POV: You got kidnapped by Decepticons, and you're also on your period

(If you're wondering if you saw this before, you probably did! Tumblr's just being wonky and didn't show it, so I'm reuploading it)

Cast (of the TF characters): Skywarp, Thundercracker, Shockwave, Megatron, Soundwave, Rumble, Frenzy, Jazz, Prowl, Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Wheeljack, Blaster, and a bit of Lazerbeak at the end

Synopsis: You’re on your period, and took a pretty strong painkiller before you went to class so you could focus without curling into fetal position from the pain. However, you didn’t think that you’d be kidnapped by alien robots. Luckily, you were using a cup. However, the painkiller is starting to wear off while you’re captive, and you’re hoping that you can be saved fast. Ideally, without these alien robots seeing you cough up endometrium.

A/N: I made the heights based more on G1 Transformers. I like the big bois, and g/t (mostly because I’m barely 5'2 but that’s irrelevant), but Rumble does not deserve to be 21 feet tall. He and Frenzy should be tiny menaces. Also, I think the size difference between the reader character and Blaster is more than enough. Also, this isn’t really for any specific Transformers continuity or series, more of my own headcanons if anything. Also, if you want to ask about the reader character, use the name Lorelei. Also, my endometriosis is not in my lungs, I just thought "Hey, do you know what would really fuckin suck?" and gave poor Lorelei endometrium in the lungs.

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: Menstruation, Endometriosis, Anatomical words for reproductive organs, Kidnapping, Vulgar Language, mentions of medical neglect.

You woke up dreading the day. According to the tracker, your period starts today, which is bad because the cramps get severe enough that you’d be bedridden if you didn’t have your painkillers, and also because you had class today. College life and all. At least today was Saturday, so it was only one three-hour class.

Going to the bathroom first, you checked your underwear for any signs of blood. There was only a bit of blood, but if you didn’t act quickly the bloodfall would begin. You grabbed one of your menstrual cups, folding it then pushing it in through your vulva. When it was in place, you used some toilet paper to wipe some of the discharge and blood off your fingers, flushed, then washed your hands.

You felt a cough coming up. Grabbing a tissue, you coughed into it. There was a bit of what looked like blood from where you coughed. If this was your first time, you would’ve panicked. However, you knew it was the stupid endometrium in your lungs because of your stupid endometriosis. Better pack some extra tissues, maybe buy some from the convenience store on your way to class.

Going into the shared space, you noticed a bag with a note. Must’ve been one of your roommates. The note had your name on it, so you decided to read it.

Y/N, I got you a snack. You mentioned in the group chat that your period starts today. I don’t know if you’re supposed to eat something with your painkillers, so I got you one of your favorite snacks just in case. Toodles! - Emily

It was chocolate covered pretzels. You took the bag, grabbed a beverage from the fridge and went back to your room to grab your medication before eating. It’s best to take it now, so your cramps don’t get so severe that you end up curled up in fetal position sobbing from pain once it fully starts.

After eating in the common room, you went back to change into your clothes. Fortunately, you didn’t share a room with anyone, so you could change in your room. You picked out an oversized black band tee and blood red sweatpants after putting on a tank top. If you weren’t on your period you would’ve picked something that looked a little cuter or fashionable, you don’t want to ruin those clothes if you need to cough up blood. You don’t know if hydrogen peroxide works that well with the materials.

Besides, most people that know you can easily predict whether or not you woke up feeling good based on how styled you look. If you’re wearing something more styled, with multiple layers and accessories, you’re likely in a more positive mood. If you’re not, either you’re on your period or doing something that requires some dirty work.

You packed your messenger bag with the things you needed: stationary, wallet, charger with power bank, tissues, a plastic zipper bag in case you can’t throw any bloodied tissues at the current moment, a small hammer, the tools that tech people carry, extra menstrual cup in a 3D-printed cube container that requires the opening to be twisted to get to it, a spray bottle of hydrogen peroxide, the usual things.

Luckily for you, all you had was a single class that only lasted two hours today. No rehearsals for the color guard, since the field is still wet from yesterday’s downpour. Maybe you’ll do some sketches after class.

Putting your shoes on, you left your dorm room and walked to your class. You made sure that your dormitory was close to the main campus, given your medical problems. Unlike yesterday, it was a gentle sprinkle of water, so you didn’t rush yourself. Class was in half an hour anyway.

Walking into the lecture hall, there was only one other person. You sat at a seat closest to the door, and turned to the other student. Like clockwork, you both got out your phones, pointed a finger at each other, and took a picture. Neither of you know each other's names, yet the bond is indescribable. Bonding through mutual goofiness without a single word exchanged. After that, a few more classmates came in, and once the clock hit noon the lecture began.

♢♢♢

After class ended, you packed up your things. Before you could get up, someone tapped on your shoulder.

Turning around, you saw one of your classmates with a furrowed brow. “Do you know about the recent sightings of alien robots?”

You shook your head, “I haven’t checked the news.”

“You haven’t heard anything?! They were spotted really close to campus two days ago. It looked like a bird, but obviously no birds nearby are that large! Be careful out there, hopefully nobody gets abducted.” She waved goodbye and sped out the room.

The alien robots are something you’ve heard about only in passing. Your roommates have mentioned them before, one of them took a picture that was so bad in quality you thought it was fake. Why are they going near a college, out of all places? There’s no local government facilities or anything that you think would interest them. Except for the telescope the astronomy majors use. They might be curious about that. It’s not related to your major though, so hopefully they won’t try taking you.

Walking out of the building, you decided to walk around a bit. It was nice, the sun wasn’t too harsh, the drizzle stopped, and there were basically no people around. Your painkiller should last a few more hours, so you have time to chill and walk slowly.

You couldn’t enjoy the scenery for long. You should’ve realized why you didn’t see anyone, not with that giant robot who almost crushed you, and is now looking down at you.

The creature was massive, quadruple your size at the very least. Black, purple, and annoyed.

“Who… are you?” you took a step back, ready to zoom away at any moment. They didn’t answer you, though, only grabbing you. Before you could react, you saw a bright purple light consume your vision, and you closed your eyes so your retinas wouldn’t burn.

♢♢♢

When the light was no longer visible, you were somewhere you didn’t recognize. The walls were metal, and there were more… people? Whatever they were, but they were looking at you. One looked identical to the one holding you, but almost entirely blue. An all-purple robot with a single yellow eye stared down at you, emotionless.

“I found one. I barely saw anyone at the location.” the one holding you said.

“Strange,” the blue one pondered, “shouldn’t there have been more of these squishies at that place?”

You wanted to retort so bad, but you also knew that the moment you start speaking you might cough. And honestly? What goes on in your body is none of their business. It’s Saturday, you thought to yourself, no shit there’s barely anyone there.

“Hey, tiny squishy!” the blue one put his face close to yours, “Tell us how we can access that telescope!”

You sighed in defeat. “I don’t know, I’ve never been to the building it’s in.” Well, that was a half-lie. You have been to the science building, just not the room the telescope was inside of.

“You WHAT?!” Oh, they’re annoyed.

At this point, you were pissed. You wanted to get away before the pain gets you, and you started getting snippy, “I dunno, maybe you should’ve asked before kidnapping me BECAUSE MY MAJOR DOES NOT INVOLVE THE FUCKING TELESCOPE! My major is in tech AND NOT ASTRONOMY!”

There is a cough coming up. Wriggling an arm out from the giant hand grasping you, you coughed into the crook of your elbow. Blood, as per usual during shark week. For you, that is.

“What is that red thing that came out of her intake?!” The blue one’s blood red eyes widened.

“Do we have anyone who knows how to fix organics?” the one holding you asked.

You yelled, “I’M FINE! This is normal for me, at least my painkillers are in effect!”

“Coughing internal liquids is abnormal for any being.” The purple one with the yellow eye spoke. “Thundercracker, inform Lord Megatron at once.”

The blue one ran out of the room. That one was Thundercracker, from what you could tell.

“Put them on the table, Skywarp. I’ll check their systems.” the one with the yellow eye ordered. The hand gripping you plopped you unceremoniously onto the table, leading you to cough yet again.

When you got up, you noticed the blood you coughed up on the table. Guess you gotta clean that. Opening your bag, you got out the hydrogen peroxide spray and a few tissues. It was a familiar procedure; spray the bloodied surface, and then clean it.

“What even is that?” Skywarp asked.

“Hydrogen peroxide. It’s used to clean blood off things, including clothing. I’d use a paper towel, but all I have are tissues.” you replied.

A hand held your face, opening your mouth and pressing your tongue down with their thumb. The one-eyed robot tilted your head up, and observed.

“No anomaly in the intake pipe. Finding the anomaly might require an invasive approach or scans.” they removed their hand from you.

Oh hell no. If this was an OBGYN, you’d be fine with it. However, you are not, and giant robots probing your lungs and uterus and just anywhere inside you is the last thing you want happening.

“Absolutely NOT!” you yelled, “I’m not letting you do that to me! Just bring me back to campus before my painkillers wear off!”

“I don’t think I’ll allow that.” Wait, who the fuck said that?

“Lord Megatron!” Skywarp turned around, bowing down at a gray figure. You could see the red glow of their eyes from where you stood.

“So, this is the one you found. She’s smaller than Soundwave’s cassettes.” Great. Just great. They’re calling you small. “She will do just fine, even if she’s not the one we hoped for.”

“How in Cybertron can this squishy help us if she’s never been to the building that the telescope is in?” Thundercracker asked.

“You. You’re a student of the university, correct?” Megatron asked, looking at you.

“Yes?” you replied, unsure of what the gray robot was going to ask you to do.

“Good, good. Then you should be able to get to it for us.”

Pardon?! “I’m one of the tech majors, if I just walk into the building and go to where the telescope is, the staff will find it suspicious!” you protested, “The only time I’ve even been in the science building is when I was being shown around campus, and we never went into the room that the telescope is inside of! If I’m to go in that room, I’m going to need to explain to the department head as to why I need to go in there.”

“Along with that,” you glared at Megatron, “I want to know exactly why you want access to the telescope.”

Skywarp huffed, “Why would we tell you about that?”

“Because y’all kidnapped me! If you want me to cooperate, you need a damn good explanation.”

“It’s rather simple. If you humans have access to such technology, wouldn’t we be curious about how it works? Such technology would be useful to our cause.” Megatron explained, and you hated the condescending tone he was using. It reminded you of the times you’ve been to the hospital, begging for an answer to all the pain and too-heavy bleeding only to be spoken down to like a toddler. Claiming that what you experienced was normal when it very much was not.

You sighed, “Fine. If you want my assistance, I will only help you if you follow a few basic rules. Do not damage any part of the school campus, try to abduct anyone else, or even think of trying to destroy the telescope. If you violate these rules, I will not help you any further. I will lecture all of you about your behavior without hesitation if you do that.”

“But what if the Autobots start the fight?”

“I’ll lecture them too. Don’t fucking try me.” You countered. It’s been a long time already, you can feel the pain creeping up to a painful level. After grabbing another tissue from your bag, you coughed up more blood.

You need to get back to your dorm soon, if the painkillers fully wear off you don’t know how you can escape.

“Now, I’d like to return to campus before my painkillers wear off. Can you please bring me back?” you tried your best to be polite, but right now you’re starting to get desperate. It must have been an hour at the very least, and you need to get back before you’re paralyzed by pain.

“Not so fast, young lady. We never got your name, and based on what Thundercracker said, I’d rather have you be under supervision.” Megatron turned to the purple robot, “Shockwave, bring her to your lab and prepare the scanners. I’ll leave her in your hands.”

Oh no. Oh no no no no NO. That’s the last thing you want happening.

♢♢♢

A group of Autobots were on the campus, talking to various humans.

“I was looking outside the window during lab. This purple and black robot picked someone up, turned into a purple light and just… disappeared with them!” a tall brunet said, gesturing to the spot the abduction happened.

Prowl frowned. He knew it was Skywarp, no other Decepticon had that ability. He’ll have to inform Optimus Prime once he finished speaking to who he was speaking to.

“Do you know the student who was kidnapped?” Optimus Prime asked the young blonde-haired woman standing in front of him.

“Yes. Y/N L/N is my roommate. I know that today she’s starting her cycle, which for her is incredibly painful. She needs to take pretty intense painkillers so she can function during this. I didn’t see her before I left for work, but I made sure to get her a snack so that she could eat something when she got up before I left.”

“What is that cycle? Is this something that organic life experiences?” He asked.

She tapped on her phone for a bit before looking back up at the Autobot leader, “All animals with a uterus and ovaries have an ovarian cycle, in order to prepare for a potential pregnancy,” she showed the diagram on her phone’s screen, “the uterus creates a lining, which sheds if a pregnancy doesn’t happen in a period called menstruation, or just a period, for humans. This lining is called endometrium. This lining, however, can end up outside the uterus, and in rare cases can go all the way up to the brain. This is called endometriosis, and is what Y/N has and what causes her the intense pain.”

“For her, there is endometrium in her lungs. She coughs it out during her period sometimes.”

Ratchet approached the two. “You mention that, and earlier the painkiller she takes. How long ago was that?”

The woman checked the time, “About five hours ago, based on the time she usually wakes up on this day of the week.”

“And when does it wear off?”

She paused. “After six hours, she’s back to regular unmedicated pain.”

Optimus got up. “Thank you, Miss Emily. We will find her as soon as we can.”

“Can I come with you? I don’t know how willing Y/N is going to be while she’s in pain around strangers.” Emily asked, “I’ll do my best to stay out of danger, and keep close.”

Ratchet grimaced, “It’s going to be dangerous. I doubt we have any weapons that you can use, if you can even hold them.”

“I understand your sentiment, old friend. However, she has a point. I doubt that Y/N will be pleased to have more Cybertronians trying to take her. Especially if she’s in terrible pain.”

Sighing in defeat, Ratchet turned to Emily, “Fine. We’ll bring her along.”

♢♢♢

Before you could protest, Shockwave grabbed you and started walking away. You thrashed in his hand, trying to wriggle out to run away and hide. Your efforts, however, bore no fruit, and only made Shockwave hold you tighter.

He put you in some kind of container, too tall for you to climb out.

“Soundwave, can you come to my lab with Rumble and Frenzy? Lord Megatron requested me to do scans of the human Skywarp found. She’s being difficult, I need those two to restrain her so I can do the scans without her attempting an escape.”

“Understood.” a voice was heard, likely coming from Shockwave.

After some time, a cobalt blue figure walked into the lab. They were the same size as Shockwave. Two significantly smaller figures followed them in tow; one purple, one black.

“So,” the blue one looked at you, “this is the human?”

“Yes.” Shockwave replied, grabbing you and putting you on some kind of table. They removed your bag, so you couldn’t grab a hammer and thwack anyone even if you tried.

“Rumble, Frenzy, restrain the human so we can do the scans.” The blue one ordered. The small figures jumped onto the table, grabbing your limbs and pushing them into the table. Honestly? That’s pretty painful. You tried to fight, kick, anything, but their grip was unrelenting.

“Stop wiggling, fleshy!” one of them tightened their grip.

Some kind of scanner descended to your chest, stopping a few centimeters above you. It whirred to life, and a red light shone onto your chest. It shifted around, scanning from your chest to your pelvis. After a few minutes, the light turned off.

“Peculiar.” Shockwave stated.

“Is this what human internals look like? How strange.” The cobalt one tilted their head, then looked at you.

“Rumble, Frenzy, release.” They ordered, and the two robots holding you by the limbs released you. However, you couldn’t run, as Shockwave grabbed you. The change from laying down to being vertical made you feel the menstrual blood leak out of your cervix, sending shivers down your spine.

“Do you even know what you’re trying to look for? There’s nothing that you can base it on!” you yelled.

“Intuition.” Shockwave rebutted, putting you back in the container. Jarred once again.

The pain creeps up once more. The whole restraining debacle distracted you for some time, but now you realized that the medication is almost out. In a few minutes, you’ll be in fetal position from the pain. Even breathing is a struggle.

Alarms.

“Autobots infiltrated the base, I repeat, Autobots have infiltrated the base.” the announcement rang.

Shockwave and the others left, leaving you alone. This was your chance. Opening up your bag, you grabbed a hammer. Can you even break the glass? Might as well find out.

Walking to one of the corners, you slammed the hammer. A crack formed, and you continued to slam and slam and slam until a large enough opening was made. You walked out of it after putting your hammer away. After going to the side opposite the hole, you dropped and rolled onto the floor. It was time to run and find a small enough place to hide.

You ran out of the lab, zooming through the halls to find somewhere small. Somewhere you could fit and they could not. After a few minutes of running, you found a small slit in the wall that you could just barely squeeze into, so you went in it. It took some time, and your chest especially was squashed, but the slit went to a tiny area, where the slit was the only exit. Curling up into a corner, you waited. The slit is too short for the two who restrained you to fit anyway.

You heard fighting and yelling approaching you. From where you were, they couldn’t see you. After a bit of time, it quieted down.

Voices.

“We haven’t seen the missing person at all. Where could she be, Prowl?” one asked.

“Who knows? Y/N might be trapped somewhere.”

They know your name. Why do they know your name? You didn’t tell any of them your name.

Unless… they’re a rescue party? Moving was a struggle for you, the pain was getting too much. You doubt you could speak right now either.

“Wait. That tear in the wall. Could she be in there?” the voice pondered, getting closer to where you were.

“I’m checkin’ it. Emily’s with Blaster ‘n’ Wheeljack, right? If Y/N’s here, contact them.”

They know Emily? Your roommate? Well, that complicates things.

A large black finger entered the slit, widening it just a tiny bit. “Hey! Are you in there?” they asked. All you could do is whimper in reply.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here!” they promised.

“Jazz, I contacted them. They should arrive in a moment.”

More footsteps.

“We’re here!” a familiar voice trilled. They are indeed talking about that Emily, the one who is your roommate. Both of you are enrolled in the university’s STEM program, so you have a few classes together. You’re both part of the color guard as well, which is pretty well known for the futuristic masks that the marching band wears as well.

“Do you think you can fit through that? I mean, Jazz, he made it bigger, but it still looks small.” An unfamiliar voice asked.

“If Y/N can fit it, I can.” Emily said, and you heard her step in through the slit.

“That bad?” Emily asked. You turned to her and gave her the stink eye.

“Hey! STEM girlies gotta stick together, y’know? Stop giving me that look.” Emily retorted.

She took out your painkillers from her bag. “I hope yain’t mad about me yoinking your painkillers, I knew that by the time you were found the meds would’ve fully worn off and you’d need to take them again. Here,” she gave you the bottle. You did your best to remove the lid, took one, and swallowed it dry. Ideally, you would’ve had something to drink since it tastes absolutely horrible, but eh.

You put your painkiller bottle in your bag. Emily grabbed you by the waist, hoisting you up to your feet, “C’mon, up at it. Let’s get back.” Both of you walked toward the slit, and left the hiding spot.

There were four of the alien robots. They all had blue eyes, unlike the ones who abducted you.

“Prime, we got ‘er!” The one with a blue visor and black hands said. “We’re gonna get ‘em back now.”

“I’ll hold them.” A red robot said.

Emily introduced them, “The red one’s Blaster, the one with the two trapezoids where his ears should be is Wheeljack, the cop car lookin’ guy with the red eyebrows is Prowl, and the one with the visor is Jazz. They’re all good dudes, even if Prowl’s grumpier than my pawpaw.”

“Don’t call me old.” Prowl growled.

“How old are you again? You’re a peepaw in my eyes.” you could hear Emily’s smirk, it made you chuckle.

“At least she sounds better!” Jazz jokes, “At Prowl’s expense, that is.”

“Shockwave’s lab is nearby. I’ll catch up to all of you later, I think there’s something there that might be useful.” Wheeljack stated.

“Alright. Don’t get killed, Wheeljack.” Prowl ordered, and Wheeljack ran to the lab you escaped from.

Blaster brought a hand to you and Emily, “Well? Hop on, I won’t bite.” Emily brought you to his hand, and he brought you to one of his shoulders and put Emily on the one opposite you.

“Let’s go.” And so, the five of you left. You gripped onto one of Blaster’s neck cables, mostly for reassurance on your part. The bouncing of Blaster zooming made you bounce a little bit, but you knew he was trying not to make you two bounce too much.

♢♢♢

After you got on the small ship, you were met with a few other of the Autobots. The tallest of them was red and blue, with windows on his chest. Next to him was a mostly white with orangish red accents.

“Good, you found her.” The blue one said, smiling.

“Optimus, should I look at her? They might’ve injured her.” The red and white one asked. You coughed into your elbow again, and let go of Blaster’s neck cable.

“Y/N’s not injured from what I can tell, Ratchet. I was able to give her the painkiller.” Emily told the Autobot.

“Which tastes AWFUL.” you added.

“Right. I forgor, sowwy.” and now Emily is UwUing. Great. That’s usually reserved for when color guard practice happens, or when she pops into the band room to bring you and the other brass members some cursed snack that the store she works at sells. Usually with some kind of beverage for you. Emily may be cursed, but she’s an awesome friend and roommate. You remember the time she recorded you and several other brass members doing a reenactment of I Want It That Way by the Backstreet Boys. She’s a champ when she wants to be.

“Well, since you coughed up some endometrium, I’m going to take a little sample.” Ratchet grabbed some kind of scalpel, grasping your arm and using it to scrape some of that sweet sweet lung endometrium.

“I’ll ask Perceptor to look at it.” Ratchet walked away.

“Where’s Wheeljack?” Optimus asked.

“Went to look in Shockwave’s lab, I think he should be here around…”

The doors opened, and footsteps ran inside and the door closed.

“Now.” Prowl finished.

“Wheeljack, what did you find?” Optimus asked, with everyone turning to the Autobot.

“Well, there was a clear container that was broken in the corner. Guess that’s where Y/N was put. Along with that,” he showed a hologram, likely the result of the scans, “I noticed this on the screen.”

Optimus approached, looking at it. “Show this to Ratchet once he gets back.”

“We should bring these two back. I’ll inform the authorities that Y/N was found, and has sustained no injuries.” Optimus ordered.

“Jazz, navigate the ship to the university.” Optimus ordered, letting Jazz leave to the cockpit.

After a few more orders, and Blaster placing you and Emily down on the floor, the both of you were left with Prowl.

“Miss L/N, I have a question for you.”

“What’s the question?” you asked.

“Is there any way to reduce the pain, or how long it lasts without your medication?” Prowl asked.

You’d answer, but that involves telling Prowl about sex. And, to be perfectly honest, fucking anyone you barely know is a turn-off to you, especially a giant alien robot that is literally thrice your size. You do not feel fuckable right now, try again later when you’re not bleeding from the cervix and lungs my dude. Do they even have penises? Well, they could use their fingers… No, don’t be horny, Y/N. Are you still ovulating? That likely explains the fact that you actually considered explaining sex and possibly… let’s stop that thought.

“Well, heat can help a little bit.” Good save, Emily. Good save. “It all depends on the person, though.”

“Also, Jazz and Blaster wanted me to ask you this, but what is this… trombone suicide thing Emily mentioned?” Ah. Emily snitched to Prowl.

“It’s a very complex move involving multiple brass instruments, usually trumpets or trombones. If you turn the wrong way, you’ll either bonk trombones or smack your fellow brassist in the face. There’s also the trumpet suicide, sousaphone suicide, and I’m trying to figure out how to do it for the color guard. Also, you’re playing the instrument while doing this.” you explained.

Prowl sighed, most likely in relief, “It isn’t literal, at the very least. That’s a relief.”

After a few more questions, and fortunately sex did not come up during that time, Optimus came back.

“We’ve arrived, let’s get these two back.” Optimus announced.

Walking with him and Prowl, you got tackled by one of your band mates. A good chunk of the brass section and color guard were there.

“Glad you’re back, Y/N!” the one who tackled you said, helping you get up.

After some time, and a little bit of discussion, you and Emily left to go back to the dorm with the others. The sun was setting, and the events of today left you tired and having menstrual munchies. Hopefully you won’t have to deal with the alien robots again.

A mechanical bird observed from a lamppost, watching the two figures enter the building. Even though the Decepticons failed to keep the student from the Autobots, there was still an opportunity to use her. Once they were fully gone, the black and red robot flew away.

[ecrisparfois]

beautiful misunderstanding

summary : draco asked you to the yule ball, but someone beat him to it.

warning(s) : none that I’m aware of.

words : 1.3k

A/N : another reupload from my old blog. @lilyrachelcassidy is officially own this piece because she’s not just requested it, then, she was also the one who give it a fitting title AND the one who encourage me to reupload my old works here. hugs and kisses for her.

.

You’ve worried all your Slytherin pals by being unusually ecstatic all day. It’s very unlike you to be all happy and cheerful; they used to the scowl you always put on 24/7. Your antics began right after the lone study session in the library last night. Unbeknownst to them, you did not just change and being ridiculously joyful without reason. It’s hard to be so angry all the time with his word keep repeating on your mind. 

You’re prettier when you smile.

You coyly grin at the book in your hand from the memory.

“Well, I’m glad that you’re no longer a grumpy witch but you’re smiling every other minute at literally nothing is really concerning,” Draco from the couch across your seat stated.

You ignore his remark, letting Draco have his own train of thoughts and assumptions.

“Have anyone asked you to the yule ball? I don’t see anyone even glancing your way,” Draco continued after realising that you weren’t going to give him any satisfaction for his teasing by sending back some insult.

“Why? Have you? I’ve seen a bunch of girls cornering you in the hallway today,” you answered with a mocking grin.

Draco scoffed at the memory. “Cornering is an oversimplification, they tried to suffocate me to death,”

You laughed at his exaggerated answer. During a normal day when you didn’t just asked by a professional quidditch player to be his date to a stupid ball, Draco’s over-dramatic nature always successfully brought a smile to your face.

“You haven’t answered my question,” he noted, you lift your eyes from the page you’re trying to read.

“What was it again?” 

“Have you got any date to the yule-ball?” Draco repeated his question without his initial addition of teasing remark.

You snorted, “Why? Would you ask me to be your date or something?”

“Well,” he shrugged, “We could go together, if you want,” he proposed almost nonchalantly. 

Your mouth agape at his proposal. That was not what you expected at all; you thought he was just going to mess with you like he always did, or maybe it is. You smiled knowingly before breaking into a fit of laugh after you deduced that Draco, indeed, was just fooling around. Draco looking up from his parchment, gobsmacked by your response.

“I’m serious,” he grumbled, effectively shut your laughter.

“Oh,” is the only thing you could say.

“Is that a yes? No?” Draco attempted to appear casual, but you still could see the slightest hint of nervousness in his tone.

“I’ve got a date, Draco,” you informed him apologetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would –“ you rushed to explain yourself when you notice his usually pale face tinted with a pink crimson in the cheek, gave away his true feeling regarding the situation.

“It’s fine, I could ask Daphne or Pansy,” he cut you off, trying to appear indifferent, even though you still could see the signs of his embarrassment on his pale face.

If you knew Draco Malfoy would ask you to be his date to the yule ball, you surely wouldn’t accept Victor Krum’s offer last night. You wouldn’t care even if he was a professional quidditch player. Hell, you wouldn’t careless even if he was a prime minister. It’s Draco Malfoy – your long-time crush, asking you out. You never consider Draco would ever ask you; he had a dozen of girls practically throwing themselves at him. If only you could be a bit more patient and take your time a bit before just hastily gave Krum a yes in fear that you wouldn’t get to be asked by anyone else. Times like this, made you regret not taking divination seriously.

“Who’s the lucky gent, if I may know?” Draco asked, sound genuinely curious.

“Krum,” you mumbled, still regretting your decision.

“Victor Krum?” you nodded sheepishly, “Is that why you’ve been smiling like you just won a million galleon?” you smiled when a hint of tease in his tone reappeared.

You simply shrug, Draco smiled before saying “Have fun with the popular guy, then,”

You doubt it would be more fun knowing you just blow your chance to go with Draco Malfoy.

.

Krum, you must admit, has a quite decent fashion choice tonight. No, it’s not actually his fashion choice because it was a uniform. All Durmstrang boys wear the same velvety red robes and that had caused you nearly mistook some random Durmstrang boy for him. It was nice; you dance with him along with the other three champions for opening. Krum isn’t much of a talker, therefore you’re the one often initiating conversation.

The task was quite hard with your mind always shouting for you to glance over Draco who eventually took Pansy as his date. He looked dashing with the black robe he was wearing; he didn’t do anything too revolutionary with his hair now that his mother isn’t here to scold him to brush his hair neatly aside. 

It wasn’t even midnight when Krum obligated to be back to his Durmstrang ship, something about training for the tournament. He offered to walk you back to your common room, you refused. Instead, you found yourself climbing the stairs to the astronomy tower. 

You are welcomed by a mop of platinum blonde hair during your arrival. Draco glancing behind his shoulder when he hears your footsteps, he sent a soft smile when he noticed it was you coming. You made your way in his direction to lean to the railing next to him.

“How’s your night?” you asked, glancing at him for a second.

“Uneventful,” Draco reluctantly answer. “How was yours?” he turned his head to meet your eyes.

“It’s alright,” you shrugged. “It could be better if I took someone else,” you gaze at the stars above, did not want to be met with his gaze.

“You look stunning,” he complimented.

“Thank you,” you mumbled sheepishly. “You aren’t looking too bad yourself,”

“Did you kiss him?” Draco who had his eyes on the sky asked very casually as if he was just asking about tonight’s weather.

“What? No,” you replied, stunned by his blunt, unexpected question. “Why would you think that?” 

“I didn’t,” Draco looked at you once again, his dazzling eyes resembling the colour of the silvery moon, he looks absolutely breath-taking with the moonlight fell on his face. “That would be a long-life regret for me. Making you smile is one thing, but kissing you during this supposed eventful night would be abundant,”  

Your heart did a back-flip, “Why is that?”

Draco gave you a look before chuckled incredulously at your question. “I know you’re not the brightest witch on our year, but I think you should figure it all out by now,” you couldn’t decide whether you should be offended or keep anticipating for his next words “I fancy you, Y/N,”

You fight the urge to break a smile so hard, but it was unbearable with how soft his eyes looking at you. “Well, I got news for you. I fancy you too,”

He breath out in relief, his lips stretched into a smile. He pulled you closer by your waist, fingers run across your cheek, and he leaned in until his mouth is right next to your ear. “I want to kiss you stupid right now but it did not feel quite right because you just took someone else as your date, who is way more popular than I am,” he whispered.

“Your pride couldn’t take that, eh?” you jeeringly said, resulting in his scoff. “Don’t worry, you could be my date for the rest of the ball I have to attend in my entire life, then. You could kiss me in next ball if you wish,”

“I couldn’t wait that long!” he exclaimed, “What if I’ll kiss you first thing tomorrow in the morning?” Draco offered.

“Deal,” you answer immediately, barely giving it any second thought.

You wouldn’t get any sleep with how excited you were waiting for the morning to come.

[eunkimmie]

i have always loved you

anonymous: How about about Sal and fem!Y/N raising a baby together? The two were FWBs, but then a slip-up resulted in Y/N becoming pregnant so they ended the sexual relationship and opted to co-parent. Thankfully, they were graduating from uni soon at the time of their slip-up. As the years roll by, Sal and Y/N grow closer and slowly fall in love. They get together after realizing their feelings for each other are genuine and eventually have another baby.

(had to reupload)

warnings: she/her pronouns, pregnancy, FWB, nsfw, non-canonical Sally Face plotline word count: 3.6k Sal was a sentimental guy. He had a lot of feelings swirling around in his heart. Big feelings for a small guy. As true as that was, Sal was never one to see sex as anything sacred or sentimental. He didn't believe in "saving himself" for anyone—it just wasn't something that was for him personally. To him, sex was just something that came to those that experienced sexual attraction. Arousal wasn't a foreign feeling to Sal, he had been a teenager once, too. Sal was attracted to her. This girl—Sal barely even knew her name, god—was just hot to him. His type, for sure. You were Niel's friend and greeted the group with a smile. Sal was twenty-one now. Twenty-one years old, never had a girlfriend, and a virgin. Sal supposed that his teenage years weren't exactly spent pining over girls or having sex. To Sal, virginity wasn't anything more than a social construct. So why was it that he was suddenly so aware of his own virginity as this girl—(Name)—laid below him with her brows furrowed in pleasure. It was dark, pitch-black almost, to the point where you couldn't make out the scarred features on Sal's face. Very much intentional. He was sure he looked like a fool, anyway. His eyes rolled back in ecstasy, lips parted as grunts and breathy moans came from his lips.

Sal's shaky hands came down to grab the sides of your hips, angling his own hips to thrust into you and pull your body back down on his dick. It was hot in every way, Sal felt like his entire body had been set on fire. His hair that had been messily pulled up into a bun was barely tied up anymore, blue strands stringing down from his ears. You screamed as Sal moved his hands up to your back, pulling your entire body up to manage a new position. You rode him as Sal's hips snapped back up in sharp rhythm to meet a steady pace, moaning loudly, shamelessly, as his cock buried deeper inside you with each thrust.

"F—uck. Fuck!" you screamed, arms wrapping around Sal's neck as his teeth bit every so gently down into the curve of your neck. Your nails ran down his back, no doubt leaving scratches behind, which made Sal groan. Maybe he was a bit of a masochist.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck—" Sal pushed you down to lay on your back, pulling out quickly and pumping the tip of his cock hastily before finishing on your stomach. The two of you breathed in quick rhythm, Sal eventually collapsing down on the mattress of his bed. He felt his face burn hot, realizing the rash decision he had made. He hadn't even asked. "S-Sorry," he gasped between breaths. You didn't seem to mind, giving him an honest "it's alright" before wiping your stomach off with a few tissues. You dismissed yourself to go take a shower after putting your clothes back on, the two of you suddenly hyper-aware of Sal's roommates.

Sal pulled his boxers back on as well as his prosthetic and laid out on his bed feeling embarrassed. He hadn't exactly...made you finish. Fuck, you probably thought he was some kind of loser. His first time and he finished in probably five minutes. All Sal could do was groan in mortification and get dressed, shamefully, of course.

He had already settled back into his bed with a video game by the time he heard a knock on his door. You made your way in after his go-ahead, hair wet and chipper.

"Hey," you said plainly. You pointed to a spot on his bed, and after his approval, you sat down comfortably. Sal felt embarrassed all over again. "Um...sorry. About that. I don't really—I mean, I've never—"

Your laugh cut him off. It seemed harmless, and Sal felt his shoulders relax a bit as you waved a dismissive hand. "Hey, don't worry about that. Seriously. I'm not going to judge you over sex." He gulped, staring at you beneath his prosthetic. You seemed awfully understanding, but your reassurance did make him feel better. A beat of silence passed before you spoke up again. "Maybe...we could keep doing that? If you'd want to? Sorry if that sounds intrusive."

"Like..." Sal paused, setting his game down and watching as your body language showed signs of bashfulness. He felt a bit surprised at your own timid nature. Hadn't you realized how bad he was at the sex stuff? Really, he only copied what he had seen in porn. Copied it poorly, that is. "Like some kind of friends with benefits thing? Even though I suck?" That made you laugh, and it was such a beautiful sight to behold. The bed shook as you turned to face him properly, legs crossed on his mattress. "I don't think you suck. Fuck, I sound like some kind of pervert...But, still. You don't have to say yes, of course...I just thought, well. I thought I would at least ask."

Sal would've been an idiot to say no.

The two of you continued like that for a while, probably for longer than you should've as just two friends. You were close friends, friends that fucked every once in a while. It seemed to satisfy the both of you, but you two were by no means careful. Usually, the two of you had sex on a whim—he could recall the riskiest time was when the entire group was out shopping and the two of you got one out in a bathroom. Still, Sal just...never really considered the risks. Besides, the two of you had been doing it for this long, and nothing had happened, so the chances must be low, right?

...One morning you showed up at Sal's little shared house.

"...Hey. Are you the only one home right now?" Sal opened the door to let you in, eyes widening just a bit as he shrugged. Perhaps your relationship had gotten too casual, but he just hadn't ever stopped to even ponder the situation. Sure, he had a little crush on you when Niel introduced you to the group, but that turned into a sexual relationship. Maybe Sal had feelings for you. Maybe they were buried so deeply that Sal never even realized. But he knew that, even outside of your sexual relationship, that he cared for you regardless.

"Yeah. It's a little early, isn't it?" You breezed past him, sitting down at the dining table and sliding a wrapped breakfast sandwich across the table, a gesture for him to sit. He watched as you bit into your own, curious. "Did you just want to talk?" You offered him a smile, one that signaled that you were here not to have sex, but instead to just be a friend.

Sometimes Sal couldn't help but wonder. He'd get lost in his thoughts, listening to ambient music in his room, what would life be like if you two had just stayed friends? Maybe that could've lead to a real relationship. Maybe. And the two of you weren't in a situation where it was awkward, or where they would have to sneak out of the other's room after a night of sex. They could cuddle and wake up next to each other, have some breakfast, and carry on. Sal always felt butterflies when he woke up and you were sleeping next to him. In some ways, he felt wrong for feeling that way. He didn't know what to feel. Perhaps a part of him figured that this was the closest he would ever be able to get to have a real romance with you. Sal didn't know. It hurt his head if he thought about it for too long, so really, why even bother pondering the possibilities?

But when you sat across from him, so mundane, eating a breakfast sandwich and looking sleepy, how could he not feel these things?

"Is that bad? If I just talk?" you looked up at him, hoping you hadn't caught him in the middle of anything important. It wasn't bad. It was never bad. Sal always had time for you. "No, I was just laying around. Todd and Niel went off to the supermarket, and I think Larry is out in the shed."

"Right, well..." you paused, biting your lip. "Okay, so you know how we always promised to be open with one another? Like transparency?" Sal quirked an eyebrow, nodding and gesturing for you to go ahead. "Yeah, so like. Fuck, man, I'm just gonna come out and say it. I missed my fucking period." At this, he saw your hands clench a bit harder down on the sandwich you were holding. Your eyes gathered tears in the bottom lid, and you sucked in a sharp breath. "A-And I don't know if that means anything, like shit. It couldn't, and I would be here just freaking you the fuck out, but I dunno man. I'm just...Shit, I don't fucking know what the hell I would do if I were..." Sal stayed silent, the cogs turning slowly in his head.

"A-And I don't know, like, I'm twenty-two. I know a lot of people have kids by now, but I just—I don't know, and it's not like I'm asking you to be super involved it's just—"

"What? I would want to be involved." Sal's lips seemed to move on their own, but it was just so painfully obvious to him. Obviously. Obviously, he wanted to be involved. It wasn't a question, really. The two of you had known each other for about a year now, and even though nothing was truly going on...Truth to be told, Sal couldn't help but think about you even after you were gone.

After about five positive pregnancy tests, the two of you agreed to stop your situation. There were a lot of tears, more so from you with Sal rubbing circles on your back. You would cry to him about how you weren't ready, or how you were going to fuck up, and all Sal could do was be there for you. Sal didn't see him as much as a father type. In fact, the two of you hadn't even ever worked out what the situation was. He wasn't even sure there was a situation.

It was strange. Sal wasn't a father. He didn't look like a father. He didn't know how a father was supposed to behave. Sal spent his weekends playing video games and learning Pokemon themes on his guitar, that wasn't what a father was supposed to do. At the very least, Sal had already moved his bed and belongings to the basement of the house and made a makeshift nursery in his bedroom.

A baby girl, chubby and crying had come after months of going back and forth on what to do. It was strange. Sal never saw himself as an adult. He'd grown in height and gained some tone in his body, yet still he couldn't differentiate the person in the mirror from the kid who used to wear pigtails every day and get pushed around in school.

What was probably worse is that Sal didn't feel a connection with his child. The child was his, undoubtedly, but he didn't feel much. He had read and heard about parents being so enamored and parents who just immediately felt love for their child, but Sal didn't. He stared back at the baby girl, her features taking after yours for the most part, yet hair as blue as the sky, and furrowed his brow. You, on the other hand, held the child close to you, foreheads touched together as the baby cried and you let out shaky breaths. Parents didn't always have that immediate connection with their children, but, even still...Sal could open his heart up just this time for a child. For you. Even though he had seen the worst of what the world had to offer, he would try.

Try he did. Sal couldn't see any other reason to do anything but for his child. Diane. That was her name. There wasn't any other option, and you had almost instantly agreed. Henry cried, the recollection of his late wife and his memory as a father had come forward as he sobbed when Sal's baby had touched his face for the first time, tugging at his beard. Sal's dad hadn't been there for him when he needed it most, coming around in an attempt to make things right when it was almost too late, but Sal refused to make that mistake. He did everything for his daughter. He was taking online college courses to get a degree in graphics. He did so much, too much, maybe, as in the wake of his determination the two of you hadn't even discussed your own relationship. In fact, it never even came to mind until Larry had asked. The two were sitting outside after having met up at the lake. Larry, moved out by now and living in a shared apartment closer to his community college, and Sal, still living with you, Todd, and Neil, sat in the grass drinking sodas.

"So...I don't know, man."

"Huh?" Sal had looked over at him. The sun had just barely dipped down beyond the horizon, the sky a pale purple. Larry shrugged, pursing his lips together in thought. "You know, a lot of people who have a kid and live together are at least dating. In most situations." Sal continued to stare, the realization of his words sinking in. Larry was right. Sal knew he was right. Perhaps Sal had forgotten. And that was truthful, too. It was so easy to forget when the two of you were living together, raising a child, and maybe just every once in a while waking up next to each other like you used to.

"And don't get me wrong, I'm not judging. In fact, I couldn't be happier for you. Ash too. You haven't really been this happy, this grounded, since you got here. To Nockfell. It's just...I dunno. Haven't you ever thought of, like, marriage?"

Marriage. Yeah, Sal had thought of marriage. The first time he saw his child he thought of it. The first time he held her, the first time he had taken off his prosthetic and his little girl just stared up at him in the same way before her little hands reached up and grabbed at his nose, he thought of marriage. Even before that. When your stomach was swollen, seven months pregnant, and Sal had caught you staring down at your stomach with a swirling mix of emotions behind your eyes, he thought of marriage. The two of you slept in the same bed. Every time he'd wake up next to you, he thought of marriage.

Sal Fisher was so undeniably in love with you. He had been so undeniably in love with you, maybe even from the first time he laid eyes on you. It hadn't ever been about sex. It had been about you. About how you smiled at him, and how your arms would wrap around his shoulders as you kissed him deeply. It had always been about you. Sal had been so blinded, he truly thought sex was the only way to keep you around. But now...Well, shit, what now?

"...I have," Sal finally responded. "I love her."

Larry stared at his friend, Sal's eyes roaming over the moon's reflection in the water.

"Isn't that answer enough?"

. . .

Little Diane was two, now. Sal finished his basic courses and graduated from the two-year school. The two of you were busy packing up your daughter's belongings into boxes, a moving truck waiting outside.

"Are you sure we cant convince you to stay?" Niel joked, hand intertwined in Todd's. Todd nudged his husband, laughing a bit with a furrowed brow. "Yeah, it's not like they have a kid or anything." You laughed, smiling brightly at the two. It had been a long journey of memories in this little house. It wouldn't ever be a place you nor Sal would forget. But it was time to move on. Sal had gotten accepted into a college to finish out his degree, and you had managed to get a job with a lot of flexibility in the same area.

"Yeah, but...California. It's just so far. And so different from Nockfell."

"True, but I think that's a good thing, honestly. This town is so strange...I could never figure out why, but it just gave me this feeling...And I don't want Diane spending her childhood years here." Todd exchanged a knowing look with Sal, the two remaining silent about the shared knowledge. Todd cleared his throat, ridding his head of the foul memories. "I suppose you're right. We'll have to come and visit sometime."

Larry and Ash had come over to the house as well, all helping you and Sal move and disassemble furniture. Gizmo was purring happily on the couch, content to watch the rest of you do all the heavy lifting until it was time to go. Henry and Lisa had even come over, Diane resting in her grandfather's arms. With all of the helping hands, you and Sal were about ready to get moving in just a few hours,

The two of you stood outside the house, your daughter asleep in her car seat in the back of the moving truck. It was strange. Sal had spent years in this town. He was just a kid. A kid that played guitar and a kid that loved video games. A kid that would search for an hour with his best friend Larry for quarters hiding around Addison Apartments just to buy a bag of chips from the lousy vending machines downstairs. A kid that had gotten mixed up with the supernatural that he would be sure to protect his daughter from. A kid that simply met a friend of a friend and fell in love with her smile. Sal couldn't help but wonder how different his life would be if not for you.

You and Sal exchanged your goodbyes tearfully with your friends and family, promising to keep in touch. And finally, with a turn of a key, you were off to a new life. It was a long drive in which Sal reflected on his life. He could've been a nobody. He could've been that weird kid with some weird mask and from a weird town. Just another picture in a yearbook. Maybe in another life, he had been a murder. He chuckled...how unlikely. He couldn't have ever imagined his life like this. Sal Fisher, the family man. He wasn't too sure that his face would fit in at a PTA meeting.

After hours on the road and multiple stops, the two of you arrived at a neighborhood with a row of brick townhomes lining the road. They weren't the best or the most luxurious, but they were within walking distance of schools and a good driving distance from Sal's university and your job. Maybe it was a bit cliche, and in sincerity, all too normal for Sal's life. He was the guy who had talked to ghosts, and yet he was about to move into a cookie-cutter neighborhood with a kid.

The two of you stepped into the house, the smell of dust being the most prominent. It would need cleaning and hard work, but it was yours. Sal didn't think he was exactly cut out for the whole "white picket fence" family, but a family nonetheless.

A family. A husband, a wife, and a daughter. Except, that wasn't his situation. He had a friend and a daughter.

Sal stared at his life. Twenty-five. Years had gone by, probably in the most unexpected way that Sal could ever imagine for himself, yet he still felt as if he hadn't moved very far with you. But you were here. In a house that you two had bought together, with eyes he had stared into for four years. His daughter with his mother's name and his hair was in your arms, giggling and squirming around, eager to crawl around the new environment. He looked over at you, eyes shining bright with hope of a new adventure and lips upturned in a smile.

"Can you believe it? Sal, our own place. This is insane. Can you believe it?" your head turned to meet his gaze, tears gathering in your eyelids. Sal stared at you, eyebrows furrowed. "Sal?"

"Marry me."

The words came out fast, but the same nonetheless. The weight of them wasn't something Sal was aware of. He had been thinking of this for years. Never the right time, never the right place. But everything seemed right. Standing here, seeing you smile the same way as you did at that first meeting years ago. It was different now. He couldn't imagine a life without you in it. Sal wanted to see you smile as he slid a wedding band on your ring finger. He fantasized about his little girl walking down and throwing petals. It was silly, but it was what he wanted. He was sure of it.

"W-What?"

"Marry me. I love you."

You stared at him, mouth agape as the breath was taken from you. This was Sal. The father of your child. It was Sal, the one who had refused to leave your side when you were pregnant. Who stayed calm when you couldn't. Who had played with your daughter and refused to stop smiling for her. Even before that, it was the same Sal who had kissed you like there was nothing else in the world to do. Sal Fisher was full of love to give and wanted nothing but the best for everyone around him despite the world throwing so many challenges his way. What other response was there to give?

Sal took your hand after lowering his prosthetic, eyes staring seriously. "Will you marry me?"

"...Yes."

[castexpectopatronum]

Liquid Amber - Part V [Remus Lupin x Reader Imagine]

Summary: You had been crushing on Remus Lupin for an eternity when you finally decided to ask him out. However, things do not go as planned and you remain wondering just what exactly is going on with this boy.

notes: reupload because the original got deleated

trigger warnings: none

word count: 2.3k

Masterlist

Time stretched like a package of Droobles Best Chewing Gum. With every glance you took at the clock, its hand seemed to be creeping along even slower, taunting you, torturing you, until the constant ticking was the only thing echoing in your mind.

When the time to meet Remus had finally arrived, it seemed like a miracle to you. You already went to the now empty Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom thirty minutes early because you couldn’t stand the waiting any longer, but you found you weren’t any less nervous there than before. Your heart was thumping, your palms were sweating, the blood was rushing in your ears...

You were sitting on the teacher’s desk, the heels of your feet bumping steadily against the wood as you swung your legs to an unheard rhythm.

Ten to eight.

There was no need for Remus to be as overly punctual as you were.

Nine to eight.

There was still enough time.

Eight to eight.

Words were swirling around in your mind, but you failed spectacularly at putting them in a consistent order. Nothing made sense. Nothing had meaning.

Six to eight.

The heels of your feet were numb from colliding with the desk. You didn’t stop.

Five to eight.

Enough time...

Four to eight.

Was this really such a good idea? Maybe he would get angry. It was his own business, after all.

Three to eight.

No. You had to talk to him. Even if he didn’t want you to interfere in any way, he had the right to know that you knew.

Two to eight.

He was not running late. Not yet.

One to eight.

Not yet.

The clock stroke eight o’clock.

Remus wasn’t there.

At five past eight, you were still patiently waiting. At ten past eight your legs stopped swinging. At twenty past eight you turned your eyes away from the clock. And at half past eight you admitted to yourself that Remus wouldn’t be coming. That he had never planned on coming at all.

You weren’t surprised. In some way, you were actually almost thankful that he had freed you from having this conversation you had been so nervous about the entire day. But for the most part, you were simply disappointed. Yes, you had known better, but hoped for so much more. Hoped for him to at least listen to you. Just this once. This one time when you had so much to say.

You didn’t leave immediately. For a while, you just sat there on the desk, alone with your thoughts. The clock’s hand crept on, its ticking echoing in the dark classroom, wandering from half past eight to twenty to nine to ten to nine, and you were still sitting there in the dark classroom, still hoping for what you knew wouldn’t happen.

You knew it was time to leave. But you couldn’t quite bring yourself to it. Not just yet...

It was almost nine when the door to the classroom suddenly creaked open and a figure stepped in, tall and slender. You lifted your head, not trusting your eyes on what they were seeing.

Remus seemed almost startled to see you there but still he smiled at you. It was a rather forced smile but it was a smile nonetheless. He could have yelled at you for all you cared – he had shown up and that was all that mattered.

Remus closed the door behind him. “I didn’t think you’d still be here,” he admitted and stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers.

You gave him a weak smile from your place on the desk. “I’m somewhat surprised myself.”

“So...” Remus took a few steps into the room. “You wanted to talk?”

You nodded, so slightly it was almost impossible for him to see in the darkness. “I’m glad you came,” you said quietly.

Remus made an odd motion, a mixture of a shrug and a nod. “I figured I owe you at least that.”

You breathed a laugh. “For turning me down? I told you before, Remus. It’s okay.”

The corner of his mouth curled up in an awkward smile, and his eyes began to flicker around the room to avoid your gaze. You didn’t mind much. You knew he was listening.

“I knew there was something going on with you,” you began. “You seemed so troubled and you were sick so often... I knew  something was off and I wanted to help you. But you wouldn’t tell me what was going on, so... I took matters into my own hand.”

Remus furrowed his eyebrows. An alarming look appeared in his eyes, the same look you had seen when you had visited him in the Hospital Wing. It seemed like ages ago.

“I did a lot of research,” you continued. “The amount of books I read... I don’t think anyone in this castle knows more about magical diseases than I do, so if you have questions, I’m your guy.”

Remus didn’t laugh. He stood, still as a statue, and stared at you with a look of pure horror in his eyes he didn’t even bother to hide.

You let out a quiet sigh. “I know, Remus.”

For a moment, there was dead silence. Then-

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Remus-”

“No.”

He turned on his heel and was halfway through the classroom when you said, “Remus, please.”

To your surprise, he stopped, almost at the door, but he didn’t turn around. You heard his sharp breaths and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

“How long have you known?”

“A few days,” you answered. “Maybe a week.”

His shoulders had dropped defeatedly. His head was lowered; he was staring at the ground. You wished you could have been able to see his face but he still had his back turned towards you.

“Is that why you’ve ordered me here?“ he suddenly asked in a hoarse voice. “To tell me you know what I am? To tell me I’m a monster?”

Your head snatched up; a deep frown appeared on your face and you jumped from the desk. Without delay you walked straight through the classroom, stepping around Remus so you were able to face him.

His gaze was still lowered to the floor; he was fixing the stone with his eyes, refusing to look at you.

But you looked at him.

“You’re not the monster, Remus,” you said firmly. “You’re the victim.”

Remus blinked and raised his head. For a moment, there was only the look of confusion on his face. “W-What?”

You smiled softly. “You heard me. Stop putting yourself down for something that isn’t your fault.”

Remus breathed a bitter laugh and looked away. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’ve done my research, Remus,“ you said. “The wolf is a part of you. But it’s not you.”

Remus’ entire body was shaking although he was wearing both his jumper and robes, and his chest was rising and falling heavily.

“I’ve ’ordered’ you here to tell you I know you’re a werewolf,” you continued, your voice remaining firm even when you saw Remus flinching at the word. “And to tell you it doesn’t change a thing.”

Remus’ eyes were fixed on your own. Your heart raced as you looked at him and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and tell him everything would be okay. But you knew he would just run off again like he always did.

“You... You don’t think I’m a-” He halted, forcing the words to come out of his mouth. “I’m a-”

“Monster?” You smiled bitterly. “No. No, I don’t.”

You hadn’t felt like lighting the room when you had entered, so there was not even candlelight to enlighten it. Remus’ face was hidden in the shadows; only because you were standing so close to each other could you make out his expression. His eyes were grazing over your face, a frown on his face. He looked like he didn’t know what to say. Or even think.

“I told you I wanted to help you,” you whispered and took a step closer. Remus gulped, but he didn’t turn away from you. “But I can only help you if you’ll let me.”

“You can’t help me,” he muttered.

“I refuse to accept that,” you said.

Remus breathed a laugh. “You’re a persistent one, aren’t you?”

“You’re saying that as though it was something bad,” you replied with twinkling eyes.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I suppose it depends on the person.”

„I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Remus chuckled. Then, his expression turned more solemn again. “Are you... Do you really...”

He found himself unable to finish the question, but he didn’t have to for you to understand.

“Yes, I do,” you said with a gentle smile. “Remember what I told you back in the Hospital Wing?” Remus cocked his head slightly to the side. “I told you whatever it was that you were going through, it could never change my opinion on you. And I was right, wasn’t I? I still feel the same way about you I did all those weeks ago.”

A smile had appeared on Remus’ face but when you spoke the last part of your sentence, he suddenly furrowed his eyebrows. “Feel?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you realised your mistake. “Think,” you said quickly. “I meant ... think.”

“(Y/N)...”

“It doesn’t matter, really...”

But suddenly, Remus had bent down and kissed you. It wasn’t more than a light touch of your lips, but it was enough to make your heart stop in your chest.

After only a moment, Remus pulled back, though, slowly, his mouth slightly agape. You stared at him with wide eyes as he straightened up again, seemingly startled by what he had just done.

“I’m – I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Remus-”

“I should’ve asked you first-”

“Remus!”

Remus fell silent. His chest was rising and falling heavily as he stared down at you. You still couldn’t see his face, but you were sure a blush was rising to his cheeks.

A smile spread out on your face as you slowly stepped forward, your hand lying on his chest, causing him to walk backwards until he stumbled against his desk and sat down.

For a moment, you simply took him in, biting your lip as you did and smiling to yourself. Remus’ brown hair was falling into his forehead and his soft eyes were gazing into your own, flickered from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes. Your smile widened as you slowly leaned it, your face inching towards his.

Remus still had the time to stop you if he wanted to.  But he didn’t. He sat there and waited, his breath going faster each moment. He licked his lips nervously; your breath mingled with his, your heart thumped in your chest, your noses brushed...

And then, your lips touched.

It was soft, at first, light as a feather. Your lips carefully moved against each other, testing, exploring, only slowly daring to go further. You heart was doing cartwheels in your chest as your fingers moved up his thighs and his own, big hands snuck around your waist to pull you closer. You tilted your head slightly to the side, your lips moved faster, the kiss became deeper; Remus arms were now hugging your back, pressing you as close as possible while yours were tightly wrapped around his neck, one hand entangled in his soft, thick hair. You two were clinging to each other as though you were drowning, the kiss becoming deeper and more desperate with each moment.

Only when you were in need of air did you break this kiss. But you didn’t let go of each other. Breathing heavily, you stared into each other’s eyes and then leaned forwards to rest your foreheads against each other.

Suddenly, you breathed a laugh.  “Wow.”

Remus chuckled. “Yeah. Wow.”

You grinned. “This conversation turned out better than I expected.”

A smile appeared on Remus’ face. “I must say I haven’t expected that either.”

“So... that thing that we do, that we don’t talk to each other... I take it that’s over now?” you asked, seemingly casual, but your stomach tightly knotted together.

A shadow flickered over Remus’ face.

Your fingers strocked his neck, kept him in place. “Let me help you, Remus. Please.”

But Remus let go of you. He loosened your grip around his neck and let out a deep breath as he lowered your hands, intertwining your fingers. Then, he pressed a soft kiss to your hand.

“There’s only so much you can do,” he whispered against your fingers. “But if that’s truly what you want.”

“It is,” you breathed. “I care about you, Remus. A lot. And I want to help you.”

“Why?”

You lifted your gaze. Remus was looking at you with such vulnerability in his soft eyes that it took your breath away. “Because you’re a good person, Remus. And I really, really like you. Like, my-heart-stops-beating-every-time-you-walk-by-and-I-want-to-take-you-out-for-dinner-kind of like.”

Remus let out a shaky breath. He was silent for such a long time that you began to fear you had overstepped your boundaries. But then, he said “I’d also like to take you out for dinner.”

You laughed. Your knees turned weak with relief. “That sounds like a plan,” you whispered, a smile playing at your lips, and leaned in to kiss him once more; a kiss which Remus was more than happy to return.

Turned out Remus did like you, after all.

[katsukisprincess-archive]

The Backseat | Tamaki x Reader

a/n: hello! this is a reupload from my old blog, katsukisprincess. there will be a part two for this piece so that paired with a request to reupload has brought us here <3 please enjoy and let me know if you’d like to be tagged for part two!

summary: The time for your graduation vacation has finally come- a week to spend with your friends before you start your careers as Pros. When you’re about to head to the beach, you realize that you’ll be sitting right with your long time crush, Tamaki Amajiki. The catch? There’s barely room for both of you back there.

wc: 2.8k

warnings: dirty talk, slight dry humping

There was nothing that sounded worse to Tamaki than spending three hours in a cramped car, even if the end destination was his favorite beach. You had this trip planned for months before graduating; Tamaki, Mirio, Neijre, and a few other classmates were over the moon at the idea of spending the first few days of freedom on vacation. Still… there wasn’t a bigger form of transportation available? 

“We’ll have to squeeze in the back.” You motioned between the seats, which you could see partially over mountains of luggage from your spot standing next to the vehicle. Tamaki was beside you, hands buried deep in his pockets and his lips pressed into a straight line, as emotional as he is emotionless. “Mirio had to put one of the three seats down to fit the surfboards, but the two seats should be big enough.” 

Your sentence trailed off in volume as you realized how cramped it just might be. You’d rather it be with Tamaki than anyone else, you decided, and knew he felt the same. On your way back inside to get the rest of your things, you did your best to calm your racing heart and drifting thoughts. 

Three hours pressed up against the man you’ve craved for years. 

How bad could it be?

***

“I’m sorry. I know this is going to be uncomfortable, I-” 

Tamaki cut you off as he crawled onto the seat, just barely half of his bottom fitting, the other half hanging off and being shoved against the harsh board material next to him. “Stop apologizing. I’d rather be here than… up there.” 

He let out a sigh as he nodded in the direction of Mirio and Nejire, who were starting their karaoke before the car was even running. The stacked bags and coolers made it so that only the tops of their heads were visible, and you could tell that the stress of the drive was nearly falling off of him at the joy of having the barrier. 

“You guys good back there? Deku said their car is even worse than ours, can you believe that?” Mirio chirped from the driver’s seat, putting his hand on the back of the passenger headrest to get a good view at the two of you squished in the corner. 

“We’re good, Mirio, thanks!” You responded, sticking your hand up with a peace sign to let him know you were hearing him. He threw up his thumb in response, and almost immediately, the sounds of Nejire’s babbling was drowned out by the running engine. With the scent of saltwater lingering off of the beach equipment and flooding your senses, you leaned your head against the window and tried to doze off.

The first hour of the trip was just as uncomfortable as you were expecting. You could tell how hard it was for Tamaki to balance himself with how little of the seat he had, so you kept trying to shove yourself hard against the side of the car to give him more room. It was an endless cycle of you realizing how intolerable his position was and him realizing how much you were hurting yourself to try to make it better for him. 

A thought crossed his mind- no, he couldn’t. He pushed his thoughts out of his head the best he could, but anytime he saw you flinch as a bump on the road sent your harder against the plastic wall, his heart lurched even more than your presence caused to begin with. He was overwhelmed by the scent of your shampoo wafting in his direction from the cracked window, and after one particularly rough movement, he took advantage of his blurred senses. 

“Sit on my lap.” 

Your head snapped to face him. What did he just say?

It was so low, so quiet, that you could tell he was trying to be private with it. There wasn’t a chance in hell that they would hear you up front with their insane volume, but still, you played along. 

“What?” 

“I-” Tamaki stopped and sighed, gathering his words before continuing. “There isn’t enough room. If you… if you sit on my lap, we’ll both b-be comfortable?” 

Was it a question or a statement? You wanted him to look you in the eyes, but it seemed he was slowly crawling back into the shell that he had lived in for so long. He felt bold at first, but as soon as he saw your questioning gaze with your parted, wet lips, he lost every ounce of confidence. 

This was very visible to you. He was right, though- sitting on his lap would give you both the room and comfort that you had been aching for this entire drive. Even if you were comfortable, which you obviously were not, you would regret giving up the chance to sit on Tamaki fucking Amajiki’s lap for the rest of your life if you didn’t hop onto him like a horse right this second. 

Unfortunately, your actions were much more humble than your thoughts. You lifted yourself off of the seat as gently as you could with the car still in motion, giving Tamaki the opportunity to slide himself under you. When you sat back down, you lowered yourself onto one of his thighs, feeling terribly small against his frame. 

It was an awkward situation, for a moment, trying to figure out how to position yourself against him, but when Tamaki slid one arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest, it fell into place very nicely. He smelled like fresh laundry and trails of food, which you were sure he had more of somewhere close to the seat. If Tamaki was anything at all, he was hungry. 

“Is this better?” You whispered, trying to not invade his privacy too much. His heart was racing against you, and even though he was avoiding eye contact with every ounce of restraint he had, you were pleased to feel his arm grip tighter against you when the bumps on the road strayed you off of his embrace. 

“Much.” Tamaki’s voice was strained, and it took all of three seconds for you to realize that it wasn’t the only thing that was. His cock was thick against the side of your thigh, and you couldn’t tell if he wasn’t moving because he was enjoying it or whether he was paralyzed with embarrassment. 

When he still wouldn’t look at you, you began to wonder if he was waiting for you to adjust yourself the entire time. Using the back of the seat as leverage, you pushed yourself off of him, finally causing him to meet your eyes. Instead of looking grateful like you were expecting, or even embarrassed, he looked almost upset. Words weren’t forming for him, so in an attempt to bring you back to where you started, he pushed his leg up by the toe of his shoe, causing his leg to bounce and causing you to move with it. 

You didn’t have time to cover your mouth to stop the noise that broke free from your throat as his movements caused your panties to drag against your clit. 

In a normal moment, it would have been just any other shift in position. But the discovery of how long and thick Tamaki was had you riled up, as if sitting on him in the first place didn’t do the trick. You could feel a pulsing in your cunt as you sat there, mortified to have made such a raw sound in front of one of your best friends. You wondered what he would do… would he throw you off of him? You couldn’t blame him. In this moment, you wanted the planet to swallow you whole and erase any memory of-

Tamaki’s hand lightly slapping your bare thigh pulled you from your reverie. 

Opening your eyes and pulling your head up from where it was buried in your hands, you met his gaze with confusion. He patted it again, and this time your stomach nearly dropped through your ass when you knew what he wanted, which was for you to straddle his thigh. You were in a sundress, a closet staple for such a vacation, so the idea of exposing yourself so greatly was daunting, to say the least. 

Noticing you were silently debating, Tamaki raised a hand and grabbed onto your chin, directing you to look him right in the eyes. His pupils were blown, his mouth hanging open with his tongue coming out to run against his already wet lips. His face was so close to yours, so close, that you weren’t able to take your gaze off of his mouth when his hot breath was fanning against you.

“I could feel how wet you were since you sat down, don’t play n-nice now.” With his words still barely above a whisper, and his grip on your chin not as harsh as you wish it was, you could tell that he was still nervous about what was happening. While his request seemed lewd, there was a shine in his eyes and a lingering in his voice that let you know that this was something he had been thinking about for far too long. He wouldn’t have risked something so out of character in front of his friends otherwise. 

There was a need in the way he suddenly brought you forward for your first kiss, but there was a desperation in the way that he was internally begging for you to return the colossal heap of feelings that had been growing in his heart for you for too long. Things were changing with graduation passed, and he had one chance to secure you in his future. 

His lips were softer than anyone you had kissed before. It made sense, now that you thought about it, as you remembered all of the times you would peek over at him and see him gently applying chapstick. You wondered if that was the hint that you tasted on him, a soft mix of medicinal balm and the bottled tea he was sipping on throughout the ride. It was an odd combination, but when his tongue tangled with yours for the first time, you knew that it was going to be one that you never forgot. 

You shifted yourself to straddle Tamaki’s thigh as he continued to kiss you. His hands sat limp for awhile, unsure of what to do, really, but the second he felt your hot center on his skin, right under the hemline of his shorts, he let his lust direct him. The new position had him spreading his legs out, allowing his heavy cock to press above the knee you had burrowed between his own. Both of his large hands found home on your hips and began pulling and pushing you along him, starting a slow rhythm of your panties pulling against your sensitive, swollen bud once again. 

Everything was happening so fast, both in the moment and in terms of your relationship, that Tamaki found himself exhaling and leaning his head back against the seat. You began to worry when his eyes fluttered closed and forced him to stop his movements. 

“Tamaki, do you want me to stop?”

Immediately, his head was shaking. He was mumbling, something you knew he did when he was trying to sort out his thoughts. Finally, after licking his lips a few times, he found what he wanted to say. While it was only one word, it spoke the weight of a novel, telling you everything you needed to know about his feelings and giving you the reassurance that you needed to tie the loose ends together in your heart. 

“Never.” 

With more force than you had ever seen him apply to you, Tamaki grabbed your leg that was between his legs and forced it up and around his hip. One quick pull by your ass had you seated right on his dick, which felt impossibly harder than before. His eyes wandered up and over the luggage in front of you to where your friends were driving, checking to see whether they were still immersed in their road trip games. Thankfully, they were, giving him all of the motivation he needed to grab your hair in his fist and yank your head back. 

His kisses started soft on your neck, but the way he suckled down the skin where your heart was beating the loudest was anything but. His grip on your hair allowed him access to the entirety of your upper body, and by the time a few minutes had passed, you were sure that he had laid a kiss on absolutely every inch of it. 

Your hips began moving against his, grinding down and causing him to buck right back up. It began as smooth, soft movements, learning each other's bodies and motions and desires, but it was quick to turn into the roughest dry humping that you had ever seen. You laced your fingers behind his neck for leverage as he pulled your dress straps off of your shoulders, allowing him to slip it off just enough to latch onto one of your nipples. You pulled against his neck as he sucked, continuing to roll against him and swallow the moans that threatened to expose you both.

“I want to be inside of you so badly.” Tamaki whispered around your nipple, letting out the softest of groans. You were both panting at this point, hands grabbing onto whatever would help you drag along each other’s bodies more fluidly. Any makeup you had applied that morning around your mouth was gone, foundation off of your cheeks and chin as his wet kisses dominated you and left you breathless. 

Pushing him back against the seat you grabbed the button of his shorts, releasing the zipper just so that his cock was straight up against his abdomen. You lowered your cunt onto him and rolled your hips up, aligning yourself just right so that it dragged against your clit deliciously. Tamaki seemed to like it as well, and he found a bruising grip on your hips to help you move. 

“We have the next two weeks.” You whispered, setting your forearms on his shoulders and threading your digits through his hair. A good thrust had you setting your forehead against his and exhaling, feeling pent up from how hard it was to stay quiet. 

Tamaki’s eyes rolled back into his head as your pace grew faster, grinding against his cock with a desperation that he had never felt before. He was growing faster to cumming than he wanted to admit, not knowing that you would be releasing yourself any minute. He tried to speak, but his words were breathy and chaotic. “After that. All the weeks. Forever.” 

You crashed your lips onto his as you hit your peak, your hips stuttering against him and hands pulling at his hair. In your rapid movements, you brushed against the tips of his ears, and all of the stimulation across his body had him cumming into his boxers. He thrusted up hard when he came, lifting you up into the air and in dangerously close view of your friends up front. All of your sounds were, hopefully, swallowed by each other's mouths, Tamaki having sucked down on your tongue so hard that you were seeing stars. 

It took a minute to calm down, but once you were both breathing normally again, you pulled back to share a shocked expression with him. He looked blissed out, but when his eyes trailed down to your neck and your chest, his eyes widened and all of the color drained from his skin. To see what he was seeing, you pulled your phone out of the cup holder next to you and opened up the camera.

It wasn’t terrible, but there were multiple hickies trailing down your neck and across your chest. It wasn’t something that you would be able to hide from your friends, especially at a beach of all places. While Tamaki’s stomach felt like it was dropped through the bottom of the car and onto the highway, you could only giggle and kiss his cheek. 

“That’ll be an interesting one to tell over dinner.” 

[bxngchxn]

strawberries and red wine || l. minho (lee know)

this is a fic that I have re-uploaded from my old blog, @ethereal-bang . I’ll be reuploading all of my old works here and deleting my old blog soon. hope you enjoy!

characters: minho x fem reader

wc: 4.8k

genre: SMUT, dilf!minho, some fluff

warnings: slight hard dom themes, unprotected sex (always wear a condom!), oral (male receiving)

THE FIRST OF THE DILF!SKZ SERIES IS FINALLY HERE!!

This contains mature content and is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18.

    　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

“No, Mina what did I tell you we do NOT pull people’s hai- wait, BENJAMIN, where did you get that frog from?!? Let it go!!” You scramble around the classroom as you try and control the chaos that is your 4s classroom. Being the lead teacher in a room full of toddlers is nowhere near easy, but you’ve always had an affinity for kids. It started out with babysitting your cousins on the weekends, then volunteering as a counselor at summer camp. Eventually it led to you, taking early education classes in college and graduating with a degree in Early Childhood Education. Now, you find yourself here, making sure these kids keep the sand IN the sand box, for the third time this week.

No matter how frustrated you got, though, you could never get genuinely angry. They’re just babies, after all. They have no real concept of right and wrong (or object permanence for that matter), therefore their decision making skills are ~slightly~ off. Plus, they look so cute with their innocent, bright smiles and big eyes. How could you not love them?

The day is just about over, and you’re trying to get everything as clean as possible before the kids leave, that way you don’t have to stay too late to finish it all. It’s Friday, and the thought of going home to your quiet apartment for some much needed me time is all you’re thinking about as you wipe down the snack table. You survey the other children to make sure no one is causing trouble, and you smile as you take in the sight of everyone (finally) sitting in their assigned seats, various hobbies distracting them as they wait for their parents to arrive.

You hear a slight crash, and a teeny tiny voice accompany it.

“Shit!”

That single word, coming from such a small mouth catches you off guard. You want to laugh– but you know better than to encourage it. Shocked expression on your face, you walk over to the table where the two girls are playing Jenga. The tower has been knocked down, and you can only assume that the expletive was said by the loser of the game. A sweet little girl, brown hair almost nearing her waist and big eyes that still held stars in them, was looking up at you in confusion. “Now sweetie, where did you learn that word from?” You ask incredulously.

The way she was looking at you screamed innocence, her smile never faltering. “From my daddy! He said it when he dropped the casserole on the ground the other night. But it’s okay! He ordered us a pizza instead!” She says and you can’t help but giggle, while simultaneously making a note to speak to the girl’s father. Kids tend to overshare way too much, and it reminds you of all the crazy things you’ve heard over the years– those poor parents.

Before you know it, the day has ended and it’s time to walk the children outside. Calling your students to form a line at the door, you double check for backpacks and blankies and stuffed animals. Once everyone (and everything) is settled, you lead the children outside to their parents who are standing with open arms, ready to have their babies back with them for the night. The sight is always so endearing, the little ones getting overly excited and jumping into their parents’ arms.

 As you watch everyone begin to leave, you notice a certain brunette toddler waddling up to her father, who scoops her up into his arms and immediately puts her on his shoulders.

She looks like him, the way that his eyes seem to shine reminiscent of the sparkle you get to see in hers every morning. He’s rocking her back and forth as she’s sat atop him, her giggles ringing out through the daycare’s playground and bringing a sense of calm and happiness to the air. Making your way over to the two of them, your breath catches in your throat when you realize the height difference between the two of you. He’s at least a head taller than you, making you feel small as you get his attention. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lee? Would it be okay if I had a word with you for just a moment?” You ask him quietly.

He looks at you, and you can feel your heartbeat skip when a small smile graces his lips. Taking his daughter off of his shoulders, he ushers her over toward another parent, and the child runs off with Kim Seungmin and his daughter, with promises of ice cream from the truck down the road. “Absolutely, is everything okay Ms….?” He says, realizing (embarrassingly) that he’s never gotten your name. “Y/N! My name is Y/N.” You say with a smile, and he nods, wanting to commit your name to memory.

Minho has seen you day in and day out, greeting the kids in the morning at drop off, and bringing them outside to release to their parents. He’s spoken to you maybe once? Maybe twice? He really wasn’t sure, but something about your soft smile and the way you take care of the children is hitting him differently today. He has a mix of curiosity and slight panic running through his system, afraid his daughter had gotten into big trouble. She’s his whole world, and although raising her on his own definitely isn’t easy, it’s just as equally rewarding. She’s just like him, her personality so big and so funny for someone so little.

“Everything is okay! I just wanted to tell you, your daughter did something today…” you started, and you can see the look in his eyes shift from panic to humor as you explain the situation from earlier today. He chuckles a little once you finish speaking, and you’re laughing too. “Ah, oh my goodness I am so sorry…” he trails off. “It’s alright, Mr. Lee, dont wo-” “Minho,” he cuts you off. “You can call me Minho,” he says, and you nod your head in agreement. “It’s okay, Minho. It actually was pretty funny..just be a little more careful around her, okay?” You giggle, and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks blush pink.

After that, talking to Minho when he came to pick up his daughter became a daily occurrence. It was never for long, maybe two or three minutes of conversation at a time, but it was something you looked forward to. He seemed so carefree, always coming in with a smile on his face. Each day his little girl runs to him and demands to be put on his shoulders, and he always obliges.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t form some type of crush on the man in question. You would find yourself hiding your smile after every little interaction, and you weren’t sure how to feel about the fact that you fell for him so easily. It had been a long time since you had decided to focus on your love life, so every time you get those butterflies in your chest you’re unsure of how to react.

Minho, on the other hand, is absolutely smitten. He never took this kind of interest in his daughter’s teachers before. He couldn’t explain it, but the feeling he gets when he witnesses his little girl run up to hug you in the mornings as you head to class fills him with a lighthearted emotion. Plus, the more he spoke to you, the more he came to find out that the two of you are fairly similar. He knew that he needed to take you out on a date. It was the only thing he could think about.

Would it be inappropriate? Absolutely. For as long as you were her teacher, there was no way he’d be able to openly express his feelings. So, he waits. He keeps his feelings at bay for the remainder of the year, waiting for summer to come so he can ask you out on an actual date. And when he does, it’s in the most unexpected way possible.

You see, Minho had a plan. Your birthday was coming up soon, and he was going to get you a small gift and a card with some cheesy pick up line, asking you to do him the honor of going to dinner with him. His daughter, however, has a (very unfiltered) mind of her own.

The summer months were in full swing, the heat and humidity taking over the town as people rode their bikes through the streets, and everyone who drove a car with their windows down, music playing at full volume. It was one of your favorite things about summer, you loved seeing everyone enjoying themselves, alongside the nostalgic feeling of freedom that comes with the warmer weather. This is why you decide one Saturday morning to get up early and head to the Farmer’s Market. The big, open air market held fond memories from your childhood, and going there to shop for your groceries became a stress reliever for you ever since you started college. The older women selling produce were the sweetest, always giving you free samples when you came round.

Today was one of those days, the smells of spices and different street foods filling your noose as you looked at some apples at a produce stand. You pick up what seems like the perfect apple. Round, shiny, no bruises anywhere. That is, until you feel a little someone bump into your legs.

The apple falls to the ground when you’re knocked over, and you hear a small, familiar voice give you an apology. It’s almost a shock when you hear Minho’s voice, too, as you turn around. “Oh my god, miss, I am so…Y/N?” He apologizes, stopping in his tracks when he realizes that it’s you who is standing in front of the two of them. “Oh! Minho, hello! And hi there sweetheart! It’s alright, you didn’t hurt me,” you say in a small voice, dropping down to her level so you can meet her eyes. “But I made you drop your apple! I’m really sorry,” she pouts, and your heart absolutely melts at the sweetness. “It’s okay, I can just get another one! Why don’t you help me pick it out, yeah?” You ask, and her eyes light up with their familiar brightness.

She nods her head furiously and you laugh, picking her up when she raises her arms. You hold her on your hip and lean down just enough for her to grab a new apple to put in your bag. On the sidelines, Minho is trying so hard not to die at the sight in front of him. His daughter looks so happy, and so do you, bonding over the differences between the fruits. He just smiles as he watches in the interaction.

“This one looks perfect! Don’t you agree, sweetie?” You ask the little girl, and she giggles and takes it from your hands. “Yeah! Daddy, look at the apple~~” she says, and Minho’s attention is brought back to the girl in your arms. “Y-yes pumpkin, it looks really perfect! Red apples are a lot sweeter than green apples, they’re your favorite right? Why don’t we get some too?” Minho rambles rather quickly, and it makes you laugh as you watch him clumsily put some apples into a produce bag and hand money to the lady working at the register.

Once you also pay for your apples, Minho invites you to come have lunch with the two of them in the picnic area. You can’t bring yourself to tell them no, so you follow them to an area of grass that is filled with families eating, playing and just enjoying the summer weather. You and Minho help his daughter with her lunch, all the while enjoying the time together, as well. It had been a while since you’d seen each other, because the little girl was no longer in your 4’s class. You spent a few hours with the two of them, and when it was time to go, his little girl scrambles into your lap before you can even make a move to get up.

“I figured something out!” She says, proudly. “Yes, dear, what is it?” Minho asks her, and you crane your head to look over at her. “I think daddy likes you, Miss Y/N,” she blurts out. Your cheeks turn pink, and Minho starts stuttering. “W-what makes you think that, love?” You ask her, and she shrugs her head, completely unbothered by the fact that the two of you look like you’ve been caught, even though nothing has happened.

“Well,” she says, determined. “Daddy talks reaaaallyyyy fast when he talks about me, or soonie doongie and dori, because he likes us a lot. And he does the same thing when he talks to you, or talks about you. I just figured that because he talks fast like that, it must mean he really likes you. Because daddy talks reeeaaally fast about you.” She says, and then goes back to eating a strawberry out of the container that Minho brought with him. The blush on your cheeks turns even darker, and Minho’s face isn’t too far behind, either.

“Aaah, I see. You must be really smart to have figured that out, huh?” You ask her as you laugh, trying to make your nervousness go away. Minho has since taken interest in his hands, not being able to look you in the eye. “Well,” you start, getting the girl’s attention. You lean in close, but still far enough away that Minho can hear, too. “I think that I like your daddy just as much,” You “whisper” in her ear. Her eyes go wide, and Minho’s face shoots up from looking at his hands. “Really?!” The girl squeals, and you just smile and pat her head.

“Really.”

The three of you wander the market for a little while longer, before you notice Minho’s daughter getting sleepy. Once she asks Minho to pick her up, he carries her on his back and she’s out cold within two minutes. He laughs at the snoring toddler, and looks down at the ground before he looks at you. “Did you mean it?” he asks, and you feel your heart explode when you look into his eyes. “About liking me, did you really mean it?” He repeats, and you can’t bring yourself to hide the truth anymore. “Mhm, I did mean it.” You say quietly. His smile brightens ten fold, and if he wasn’t hauling a sleeping child on his back, he would’ve taken your hand. “Well in that case, would it be out of pocket to ask you over for dinner this weekend? She’s going to a slumber party at Seungmin’s house, so we can have an actual conversation,” he asks sheepishly.

“I would love that.”

__________

The rest of the week flies by, and you can feel the nerves gathering in your stomach as you arrive at Minho’s house. Walking inside, it’s exactly how you could imagine it to be. It’s cozy, and you can definitely tell that a toddler lives there. Toys are in the living room corner, stacked neatly next to a two story dollhouse. Sippy cups align the kitchen sink, and you see cat shaped sandwich cutters sitting in the dish drainer. The sight makes you smile, as you remember cooing over the cute shapes at lunch time.

Minho looks absolutely stunning, you think to yourself. He’s dressed casually, but his button down shirt makes his shoulders look broad and the way his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows makes your knees feel weak. He greets you with a warm smile and a small hug, leading you into the kitchen. He really pulled out all the stops for this– candles at the center of the dining table, two glasses with red wine sitting next to empty plates as he brings the food to the table. “Wow, this looks amazing,” you tell him as you take a seat across from him, sipping your wine. “Thank you, I really hope you like it,” he laughs.

Dinner goes well, just as you expected it to. The two of you never run out of things to talk about, and the wine is definitely helping the two of you loosen up a little bit. Once dinner is over, you insist that you help with the dishes. Minho tries to decline, but you bump him out of the way with your hip, picking up a towel to dry the clean dishes with. He laughs and mimics the action, except his arm wraps around your waist in an attempt to catch you if you fall over. You feel electricity shoot through you at the action, and you turn to face him as you laugh.

He doesn’t let go, and the look in his eyes has you dropping your towel onto the kitchen counter. The air in the room feels charged, and you can’t help but reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. Everything just felt natural, with him. Like you were supposed to be this way all along. His other hand drops the dish he was holding into the sink, and he decides to wrap it around your waist instead. The feeling of finally being encapsulated in his arms makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

The two of you stay like that, for just a moment longer. It’s Minho who breaks the silence first, tightening his hold on you. “Is it..is it okay if I kiss you?” he asks softly. The action is so sweet, you smile as you pull him closer to you. “Please,” you ask, right before his lips crash onto yours. The kiss is soft, slow, everything you could have wanted. His lips still taste like the wine you’ve been drinking, and it makes you want to deepen the kiss. So you do.

Minho feels your tongue at his lips, and he immediately grants you entrance but quickly gains dominance over you. A hand of his moves from your waist up into your hair as he pushes you into the kitchen counter. Your hands roam his body, his broad shoulders and toned arms feeling like heaven under your fingertips. When your hands find his hair, you tug on it slightly and that’s enough to prompt Minho to lift you onto the counter. He’s standing between your legs, his hands falling to your hips once again. He traces light circles into the skin under your sweater as you start trailing kisses down his neck.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” you say breathily, and it makes Minho chuckle. “You really want this?” He asks, confirming that it’s okay for him to take it further. “I want all of it.” You say while looking him in the eyes. They darken, and you can tell that you’ve just awoken something inside the man. His hands bunch under your shirt, slowly lifting it up to reveal the royal purple bra that you were wearing. Thanking god that you chose a matching set, you take the initiative to take your sweater off the rest of the way, throwing it on a chair near the table.

Minho wastes no time attacking your neck, biting marks near your collarbone and trailing them down towards your breast. He takes one in his hands, feeling the fabric underneath his hands and relishing in the quiet noises you’re making. His fingers ghost over your nipples, the texture of the fabric bringing you an added sensation. You subconsciously move your hips against his, feeling how hard he is through his jeans. Minho sighs, and the sound is music to your ears. You continue to move your hips against his, and Minho quickly grabs the back of your legs. “Someone’s eager, aren’t they?” he teases, telling you to hold on as he picks you up and takes you in the direction of his bedroom. His lips never leave your neck, at least not until he has you lying comfortably on top of the pillows on his bead. The look in his eyes is almost primal, and it mirrors every feeling that is running through your body in the moment.

You sit up quickly, unbuttoning his shirt slowly as you kiss each inch of exposed skin. Minho helps you as he shrugs his shirt off his shoulders, and you take in the sight of the gorgeous man sitting in front of you. You look down to his jeans and then back into his eyes, as if asking for permission. He grabs your hand and guides it to his belt, and that’s a sure fire sign that you can continue.

You expertly undo his jeans, pulling the zipper down with your teeth in a teasing way. “Fuck, baby,” he says at the sight, and his little praise just spurs you on. You move him to sit on the edge of the bed, and you sink to your knees in front of him as you pull down his jeans. His cock is something to behold– the perfect size, pink and standing at attention. Tempting. You grab the base in your hand, and bring your tongue out to lick at the head. Minho melts into your touch, his fingers going to your hair instantly. You begin slowly, sucking on the head and using your hand to stroke the rest of his cock. It’s taking every ounce of self control from Minho to not fuck into your mouth, wanting to savor the first of hopefully many encounters with you.

You look so gorgeous on your knees for him, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you begin to sink lower onto his cock. He can feel your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein and making sure to swirl your tongue at his head with each pass you make. If you keep this up, he’s going to cum fast.

“As much as I enjoy the feeling of your pretty little mouth, baby, I don’t want to cum inside it this time.” He says, pulling you back up onto the bed. You feel excitement rise in your chest at the idea of a “next time”. You giggle as he hovers over you, pulling you into another kiss. He can taste you on his tongue, and there’s something so inherently dirty about it that makes him impatient.

He starts working on your jeans, undoing the buttons with ease and sliding them down your legs. He stares at the matching purple underwear that you’re in, and he chuckles darkly. “Seems like someone had something certain on their mind when getting dressed today, huh love?” He teases, tracing slow circles over your clit in a teasing way. “I-I don’t know what you mean,” you say as you try to keep your noises to a minimum. He’s going at a pace that is way too slow for your liking, but you’re not ready to beg for it. At least not yet.

“Hm? Feigning innocence now are we? That’s not very nice of you, baby. Tell me, what were you thinking when you put this on today, hm? Were you thinking that I’d take you like a good girl tonight?” He asks. His eyes never leave yours, and you try your hardest to keep your voice level. “Maybe,” you tease, and his pace quickens for just a moment, just enough to have you keening, but then he returns to the torturously slow pace. “Trying to be a brat, are we? Don’t worry, I can have that attitude fixed in no time,” he warns. You want to test him, see how far he’ll go. “Really? I don’t see you doing anything about it,” you fight back.

Bad idea.

Before you can even blink, your underwear are ripped off and thrown across the room, and Minho’s hand is now around your throat. The sweet feeling of the air leaving your lungs has you dizzy, not able to form coherent words. “Oh? Where’s that mouth of yours now huh?” He says, his tone condescending. His fingers return to your core, but this time his pace is rough and fast. You try to move, but the grip on your neck is tight. “Tell me what you want, love. Use your words,” he says. He decides to loosen his grip to let you speak.

“Please, Minho God just-just fuck me,” you finally speak out, voice shaky as your high is quickly approaching you. “That’s all the permission I need, baby doll.” He laughs as he pulls you closer to him. Reaching down, Minho grabs his cock in his hands and runs the head up and down your labia, teasing you before giving you the real thing. “You’re so wet, this is all for me right? I’m the only one who makes you feel like this?” He asks, knowing that you’re slowly losing your cool.

“Yes! Yes it’s only fo- only for you, Minho please” you beg, and it quickly turns into a moan as he enters you. Your back arches, and a low groan comes from Minho’s throat as he feels how tight you are around him. He stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust, but once you rock your hips into him even a little, he sets off at a steady pace. The feeling is euphoric, he’s stretching you in just the right places and somehow knows exactly how to make you see stars.

He’s panting, and when you whine a quiet “Harder, please,” he loses all control. Slamming into you quickly, he brings his hand back to your throat. “You’re so perfect for me, baby. Jesus. Only for me,” he says over and over again. He’s leaned close to you now, mouth against your ear and you can hear every ounce of praise that comes from his mouth. Your high is approaching, and you clench around Minho when he starts drawing fast circles on your clit once again.

“Minho I- I’m so close, please make me cum,” you moan, and with a certain swivel of his hips he’s hitting a spot that’s making you see stars. “Cum for me then, baby. Let me feel you,” he says, quickening his pace once again, so fast you didn’t think it was possible.

The only sounds in the room are skin slapping and your labored breathing, moans loud as you finally feel the knot in your core tighten and then burst. His name leaves your lips in a long, drawn out whine, and you feel him fill you up not long after your orgasm starts wearing off. He’s panting in your ear, grip tightening around your throat once again as you feel him spill into you.

Riding out both of your highs, Minho’s thrusts slowly come to a stop. The two of you lay there, basking in the glow of the events that just unfolded. You stay like that for a few minutes, and then Minho gets up to run the shower, placing a kiss on your forehead as he leaves the bedroom.

You end up going for another round in the shower, and then straight to bed as the two of you are too worn out to do anything else.

You wake up the next morning in one of his tshirts, and you can smell pancakes being made in the kitchen. You look over and realize that Minho is no longer next to you, and you smile as you hear the radio playing and a sweet voice singing along.

Aware that his daughter could be coming home at any minute, you throw your own jeans on as you walk into the kitchen, Minho’s shirt still falling off your shoulder. Quietly padding behind him, he jumps as you wrap your arms around his waist. “Good morning,” you giggle, and he quickly turns to place a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning to you too, doll.” He says. The name brings back memories of last night and you feel a blush on your cheeks.

You help him finish making pancakes, and when the front door opens, you hear little feet making their way to the kitchen, followed by the sound of Seungmin’s voice. “Hey, Minho I figured I’d stop in and say hi since I’m dropping off your- oh. Hello.” Seungmin says as he sees you at the counter with said man. “Hi,” you say quietly, giggling at his expression.

 “Y/N!!!!!!!!!!” you hear from behind him. You lean over and see Minho’s daughter coming at you full force. You quickly scoop her up into your arms, spinning her around as her bright laugh fills the room. It makes Minho’s heart explode, and he immediately feels embarrassed as he looks over at Seungmin. “I’m not judging, good for you bro.” The younger man says, sticking out his fist for Minho to bump. He laughs, but does it anyway, his attention turning back to your and his daughter.

“Are you here to have breakfast with us?!?! Daddy makes the best pancakes!!” The girl exclaims, and you laugh as you look over to Minho, sharing a secret glance.

“I sure am, sweetheart.”  

   ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

@dom--minnie @sparklemin @minholuvs @hanflix @moonlit-lixie @feliix

[writerofthecourt]

ushijima, sakusa, iwaizumi, and shirabu being protective of their mute!girlfriend

warning: some bullying and harassment, very slight time skip spoilers, slight mention of injury and blood

a/n: for you, anon! i hope you guys enjoy

EDIT: this is a reupload because tumblr kept deleting me from the tags

ushijima wakatoshi

honestly, you guys were a weird couple

ushijima’s a man of few words, while you’re a person of no words

tendou was 100% convinced that you guys had some weird couples’ telepathy going on

(no one tell him that it’s just text messages and a pen and paper)

for the most part, everybody at shiratorizawa was cool with your relationship

everyone except for ushijima’s fangirls

“i don’t know what he sees in her. she’s not even that pretty”

“maybe he likes charity cases”

you ignored the two girls as they followed after you, your indifferent attitude only further fuelling their anger

“oi, [l/n]. don’t ignore us. you really think you’re too good for us just because you’re dating ushijima-kun?”

“he’s probably just taking pity on you since no one else would want your mute self”

their insults didn’t stop, not even as you approached the gym

“why does ushijima-kun even bother with you?”

“yeah, he would be so much better off without you”

it was at this time that ushijima had just returned from refilling his water bottle and happened to overhear the conversation

“i’d have to disagree with you,” your boyfriend proclaimed

“u-ushijima-kun, where did you come from?” one of the girls stuttered

“[y/n] is a wonderful person, and i’m lucky to have her,” ushijima continued unwaveringly. “i don’t agree with your comments. apologize to [y/n] at once”

at this point, the two girls knew that there was no winning in this situation

they exchanged a nervous glance with one another before hastily throwing out an apology. “s-sorry, [l/n]”

you tried not to smirk as the two girls quickly walked away, embarrassed that their idol had seen them in such a bad light

you sent your boyfriend an appreciative smile before he happily took a hold of your hand and led you towards the gym

in conclusion: no words were needed when the two of you were together

sakusa kiyoomi

when news broke out that you and sakusa were dating, sakusa was livid

not only was it an invasion of privacy, but the fact that it was atsumu’s fault made sakusa even more mad

the idiot forgot to crop you and sakusa out of the background of his stupid selfie

#sakusaandmysterywoman started trending online before sakusa had to eventually tell everyone the truth

“[y/n]’s my girlfriend. leave us alone,” was all sakusa tweeted before social media caught on fire and exploded

like with any celebrity dating scandal, there was some backlash from the fans, especially from the crazy ones who accused you of stealing away their precious omi-kun

eventually, everything settled down, and the fans became a lot more supportive of you and sakusa’s relationship

this led sakusa to being more comfortable about sharing pieces of his relationship with you online

although he was clearly happy, this didn’t stop his overzealous fans from constantly insulting you

“why does [y/n] never say anything when omi-omi gives her a compliment?”

“ngl [y/n] seems kind of rude. i feel like sakusa deserves better”

“omi-kun should be with someone who’s actually worthy of him. [y/n] ain’t it chief”

the only reason why sakusa didn’t respond to any of these people was because you told him not to, and he wanted to respect your wishes

it wasn’t until an especially concerning tweet about a fan “paying you a visit” that sakusa finally had to put a stop to all of this nonsense

“to anyone insulting or even going as far as to threaten my girlfriend, just stop. if you can’t support my decision, then i don’t need you. you are not a ‘true’ fan. i love [y/n], and i’m happy with her. to all of you who have been supportive of my relationship with [y/n], thank you. i don’t say this enough, but i truly appreciate you guys”

after sakusa’s tweet, #omi[y/n] started trending in support of you and sakusa’s relationship, which finally put a stop to all of the online hate

in conclusion: blame atsumu

iwaizumi hajime

when iwaizumi asked if you wanted to go see a movie with him on the weekend, you were over the moon

you knew just how busy your boyfriend was with volleyball practice, so you weren’t too pushy when it came to dates

you made sure to put a little extra effort into your outfit and appearance that day because you wanted to look cute for you boyfriend

unfortunately, this also caught the eyes of guys other than iwaizumi

“hey, cutie. you by yourself?” a flirtatious male close to your age asked. “i wouldn’t mind keeping you company”

you tried not to blanch as you took a step back and shook your head, indicating that you weren’t interested

this did nothing to dissuade the flirtatious guy, as he offered you a charming smile. “you can pick the movie if you want to. come on, it’ll be fun”

you were about to walk away when an all too familiar arm securely placed itself around your shoulder in a protective hold

“leave her alone. she’s not interested,” your boyfriend scowled

“says who?”

“says me. got a problem?”

“w-whatever, man. you can have her”

as the flirtatious guy began to walk away, the harsh glare on iwaizumi’s face soon transformed into worry as he turned to look at you. “sorry i’m late. are you okay? you’re not hurt, right?”

you nodded your head in reassurance while offering iwaizumi a gracious smile

your boyfriend smiled back before placing a gentle kiss just below your eye

“i’ll always be there to protect you, okay?” iwaizumi reminded you

you nodded your head once again, never doubting him for a moment

in conclusion: don’t mess with the seijoh arm wrestling champion

shirabu kenjirou

for the most part, you liked being the manager of the boys’ volleyball team

the shiratorizawa players were always chaotic and funny, and you were proud to call yourself a part of the team

although, if there was one thing to complain about, it would definitely have to be some of their fans

you were in the middle of bandaging shirabu’s injured finger when a chorus of high-pitched cheers rang out from near the gym doors

“[l/n], go deal with that,” coach washijo grumbled in annoyance

you sent your boyfriend an apologetic smile before signing to him to continue applying pressure in order to stop the bleeding

grabbing your pen and notebook, you wrote down a quick message before walking over to where the three girls were standing

please keep your voices down, your note read

“we’re just cheering on the players," one of the girls said

"yeah, what’s wrong with that?” another girl remarked

you’re distracting the players from practice

“well, must be easy for you since you can’t even seem to speak at all,” the last girl replied mockingly, followed by the laughter of her two friends

shirabu, who had been listening to the conversation, immediately got up from the bench to go stand next to you

“you three have been nothing but nuisances this whole time, and everyone agrees with me,” shirabu snapped furiously. “if you can’t be quiet, then leave!”

after shirabu’s angry outburst, the three girls promptly quieted down

you’re too nice, your boyfriend signed after the two of you returned to the bench

well, you know what they say. opposites attract and all that

oh, shut up

you only smiled in response as you finished bandaging shirabu’s finger before pressing a light kiss to the back of his hand

“stop mocking me with your cute couple-y-ness!” tendou screeched from across the court, having just witnessed your adorable exchange

“tendou! five laps around the school!”

in conclusion: stop yelling in the gym!

[jamiiviper]

The Jamil Essay

this is a reupload of a post i made a couple of weeks ago - previously it was an external link to a google doc, so it never showed up in any of the twst tags, but i worked so hard on this and i would really love it if more people read it, so i’m reuploading directly to tumblr.

to put it simply, this is a 3.7k word character analysis purely about jamil. and even with a word count like that i wasn’t quite able to cover everything i wanted to say, so who knows, maybe there’ll be a part 2 one day. i’ve also decided i do want to write a kalim version, so i’ll probably start working on that sometime soon! stay tuned!

trigger warnings: mentions of child abuse

jamil is the vice dorm leader of scarabia, who’s been kalim’s caretaker practically since birth. he puts on a facade of not standing out, preferring to remain completely average, and plans his life around kalim’s antics. as we learned in chapter 4, however, his true feelings are that he bears a lot of resentment towards kalim, and that he wants to stand out - he just wasn’t allowed to, as he can never surpass kalim.

in this essay i want to cover not just my personal interpretation of jamil, but also some common misconceptions that people tend to have about him. twitter doesn’t have this problem as much, but with tumblr i’ve found that there are very few jamil stans, especially in the theory and writing communities - meaning it’s quite common for people to misunderstand his character. in the fandom as a whole, it’s common for people to only acknowledge him insofar as “gay for kalim”. 

firstly, jamil’s character development in the main story - i would say he’s arguably the best-developed character in twst, since yana now has enough chapters available to flesh out characters after their main story arc ended. jamil holds very deep-seated resentment against kalim, to the point that he plotted to betray him for probably several years. he plotted to have kalim not just thrown out of nrc, but thoroughly ruin his reputation in the process. after his overblot, those feelings did not magically vanish - far from it. i think earlier twst chapters suffered from arcs being wrapped up a little too neatly post-overblot, but pomefiore’s arc has already proved itself to be the exception and thoroughly covers not just jamil’s continued dislike for kalim, but also the wider consequences for what he did.

since the twst school year begins in september, we know jamil is about 9 months older than kalim. from literally the day kalim was born, jamil’s life has been dedicated to kalim. possibly since the day jamil was born, and he was always fated to be kalim’s caretaker. it may even have been the reason he was born at all. either way, it’s not like he remembers those 9 months. all jamil has ever known is that his sole purpose must be to serve kalim. he must not have desires of his own, he must not do anything for himself - from childhood he was expected to be ready to give up his life for kalim at a moment’s notice. he can’t be good at anything - kalim must always be better (i’ll cover this in more depth in a later paragraph, this philosophy is key to his character). his own parents drilled this into him, even going to the extent of hitting him if he didn’t comply. it seems he has a normal relationship with his family despite this - he bickers with his sister like regular siblings, and pre-overblot he indicated that his desire to be free from servitude wasn’t just about him, he wanted to free his family. nonetheless, the psychological damage his childhood caused him is severe. is it any wonder his unique magic is mind control, when he’s never had an ounce of control over his own life?

moving onto his early teen years, we know both jamil and kalim were severely poisoned at one point, both falling into comas for around two weeks. although we don’t have a timeframe for jamil’s coma, we know kalim’s was when they were around 13 years old. if jamil’s was around this age too - probably a short while afterwards - i think it’s plain to see why jamil’s resentment began to build. he’d have been around the age where he first started to question why his life has to revolve around kalim. why should he be expected to die for someone he doesn’t even like, who’s spoiled and doesn’t realise how much jamil does for him? kalim takes everything for granted: status, friendships, freedom, and jamil is meanwhile left in the shadows with nothing. then one day kalim gets poisoned so badly he falls into a coma - how much do you want to bet jamil was blamed for that, at the age of 13? after that he’s expected to taste-test anything kalim eats beforehand, and eventually starts making all his meals for him because the risk of poison is so high otherwise. then one day he slips up, or it’s an undetectable poison, and jamil is the one to fall into a coma. is anyone blamed for that? does anyone pity jamil outside of his immediate family + kalim? no, probably not. after all, he’s just doing his duty, right? it’s truly… no wonder jamil’s resentment became so intense. he finally has proof that his life truly does not matter. although kalim certainly cares about him, he doesn’t understand jamil’s position. he sees jamil as a friend, an equal; jamil knows this can never be the case, and he also knows kalim is too privileged to ever hope to understand. 

fast forward on a couple of years to jamil receiving his nrc acceptance letter. he thinks that finally, finally he’s going to be free. four years of freedom - and who knows, maybe after that he can be free forever! he can finally excel at his classes and be his true self, without fear of upstaging kalim! 

and then kalim gets accepted a month late. for no reason other than his surname. 

and then kalim gets sorted into his dorm.

it’s a miracle he didn’t just overblot on the spot - but that’s his nature as a scarabia student. careful foresight and planning. this moment was, undoubtedly, the moment he started planning his betrayal. he had his one month of freedom ripped away, just like that. 

oh, don’t forget the fact that not long after, kalim was made dorm leader not because he notably embodies scarabia values at all, but because of nepotism. (side note: most scarabia stans agree kalim does actually reflect scarabia values, just not as obviously as jamil does, but either way jamil himself wouldn’t see it this way. this is a jamil essay so i won’t go in depth about this unless asked to!)

under kalim’s watch, scarabia - known for its intelligence and cunning - is turned into “the party dorm”. this seems to be the fandom’s perception of them too - i mean, just ask any non-scarabia stan what goes on in scarabia, that’s probably the answer they’ll give you. jamil would have probably loved the original scarabia; although we don’t know much about it, we know scarabia students are on a par with octavinelle when it comes to intelligence (paralleling azul’s constant interest in jamil). yet by winter break, scarabia is doing so badly in those same exams that they didn’t even place in the rankings…? without meaning to, kalim clearly harmed scarabia. instead of getting chance to study magic and show off, jamil is now essentially an unpaid, full-time party planner by the time his second year starts.

a few months later, winter break finally arrives, and jamil executes his plan to dethrone kalim. i may have just spent the last two pages defending jamil’s grudge, but his actions themselves are still indefensible. there’s evidence to suggest kalim knew what was occurring on some level - refusing to answer jade’s question about who was hypnotising him proved that 1) he probably had some idea deep down that jamil was betraying him 2) he doesn’t want jamil to get in trouble for it. nonetheless, this does not make what jamil did okay in the slightest, even if kalim allowed it to happen. jamil is, undoubtedly, the bad guy in this situation, no matter how sympathetic his childhood makes you feel. i could go into detail about why kalim acted the way he did, but again, this is jamil-focused.

i’ll skip talking about his overblot, because i covered his hatred for kalim in a lot of depth already and i want to talk about the general aspects of his personality like his desire for praise later on. so moving onto the end of chapter 4, we see jamil’s true self: a snarky, heavily opinionated boy who honestly just wants to be free to be himself.

but just like his freedom, that side of jamil once again only lasts for a brief moment. jamil almost loses everything after his overblot. practically every scarabia student hates him and wants him thrown out of the dorm - even kalim, his sole defender, can’t call him a good person. he’s a traitor. he says he trusts the scarabia students to work out that it’s better for them if he stays, but that day won’t come any time soon, and until then he’s keeping his distance from them all, because their hatred is that strong. if azul truly had been streaming to more people than just jade, his life would have been ruined beyond repair. so what does jamil do? he goes back to serving kalim. as a scarabia student, his foresight is good enough that he knows the option he hates the most is the only one that’ll be good for him in the end. for jamil, being himself is nothing short of a death sentence.

now i’ve talked for far too long about the timeline of his character arc, i can finally get to the good stuff: jamil’s personality, and how it’s changed throughout the stories we’ve seen so far.

the first thing that springs to mind when you think of jamil, other than “snake”, is probably “tired”. or “he’s going to snap”. something along those lines. which... yes, we know he is. he did snap. after chapter 4, this doesn’t seem to have changed too much, but i do get the impression that he’s somewhat less stressed out by kalim. his resentment has dissipated, for the most part (he does still openly insult him, though), so while he does grumble at kalim there’s no suppressed fury behind it. what replaced that fury?

guilt.

in 5-10, jamil tells azul that he intends to continue to obediently follow kalim around in order to restore his reputation, both inside and outside of scarabia. this does of course make him sound pretty selfish (as per usual), and in classic jamil fashion he doesn’t let his true emotions show, so it’s easy to take this at face value and assume he just doesn’t really care. i think in this case, we need to look more at his actions that we see throughout chapter 5. namely, the way it’s being emphasised how he’s silently watching kalim from afar - something he’s always done, yes, but yana seems to be really making a point of it in chapter 5. it’s not just kalim he’s distancing himself from, either. he’s staying away from the rest of the scarabia students too, as mentioned earlier. he never had any friends at all to rely on, even before his overblot. so by doing this, he’s effectively completely isolating himself. he clearly has a lot of thoughts about everything that he’s not sharing with anyone - just listen to the way he sighs at the end of the flashback in 5-10, how annoyed and frustrated he seems. if jamil was telling the truth about just wanting to restore his reputation, he’d probably appreciate kalim’s efforts, even if he dislikes kalim himself. he shouldn’t be upset by kalim persuading the scarabia students to give him another chance. not if he truly just wants to get back to normal. i think on some level, jamil feels incredibly guilty over his actions. he might not have even admitted to himself yet that he feels this way, and by saying things like “i just want to restore my reputation” he’s just trying to convince himself. after all, that’s something he has a history of doing.

ever since jamil’s first introduction, we’ve known jamil lives his life by the philosophy of “not standing out is the best way to succeed”. he hates standing out or receiving any kind of positive attention at all, because he thinks that it’ll only attract trouble. or so we thought, because as we learned from his overblot, jamil desperately wants to stand out. he’s powerful and intelligent, and he wants people to acknowledge that. he wants the praise and recognition he knows he deserves. this means that whenever he said he didn’t want to stand out, he was lying through his teeth - he probably constantly tried and failed to convince himself of this throughout his childhood. during his lab SR story, he even repeats it to himself in his thoughts, like a mantra - “I want to avoid standing out. I can’t be satisfied with this. I cannot be too good, nor fall behind, and neither should I get satisfactory grades or fail. This is the best shortcut to success.”. much like his feelings of guilt, jamil refused to acknowledge how much he truly wanted to show off, even in his own thoughts. he is awful at being honest to himself.

post-ch5, we find out that despite everything, jamil does still hold this philosophy, to some extent. he of course shows off his singing and dancing skills enough to be chosen as a main vocalist, and he says he wants to make a name for himself and show various people just how talented he truly is: kalim, his family, the asims and MC, to name a few. yet in the chapter before that, when kalim compliments his singing and dancing, he’s like “i don’t really want to stand out, but…”. which is honestly a little confusing at first because he does want to. i’d probably interpret it as something along the lines of he wants to show off to the people he cares about, but he still wants to keep his head down in general. so i think that to some extent, maybe he actually has internalised that philosophy now. the one time he truly expressed his desire to stand out, it ended in catastrophe for him. he has this tiny seed of doubt within him now, telling him his parents were right all along. but... he’s working past it, and applying himself as and when he’s comfortable doing so.

going back to him being bad at being honest, jamil’s a pretty big tsundere. there’s one person he does regularly receive praise from: kalim. yet despite desperately wanting to be praised, he often gets annoyed at kalim and tells him something like “this isn’t about me right now” or “what does that have to do with anything?”. plus when the praise is coming from kalim, it’s often in the context of kalim praising him to other people - as a servant, he can’t be seen accepting all these compliments, right? he can never be better than kalim. so he has to reject kalim’s praise. when it’s just the two of them alone, though, is when jamil gets embarrassed to the point he has to hide his blush under his hood. given his childhood, chances are that he doesn’t really know how to process being praised. he knows he wants people’s approval, but when he actually gets it, he just short-circuits. it was the same at his birthday celebration; although he wants to be the centre of attention, when it actually happens, he gets all embarrassed and tsun. i was trying not to let my own personal feelings spill in this but oh my god he’s so cute i can’t

next... this isn’t really linked to any previous topic, but i want to talk about jamil’s cooking! jamil cooks all of kalim’s meals, and regularly cooks entire feasts for kalim’s parties, too (as well as being in charge of getting any animals kalim wants to show off, decorating the dorm, making sure everything runs smoothly… you get the idea). his cooking is very good, and he has a lot of technical knowledge about cooking too - azul, whose parents run a restaurant, didn’t know about emulsification, but jamil was able to explain it to him. despite being so good, though, according to his dorm SSR homescreen lines he doesn’t actually like cooking very much. he says the fact that he cooks so much is “just how things turned out”. of course, he could just be being a tsun, but i do feel like he’s being honest with this - what reason does he have to seriously enjoy something he was forced into doing his entire life? However there is evidence that he might enjoy it after all; he’s particularly good at alchemy because of his cooking knowledge, and according to magical archives he’s completely neutral in motivation for both flying and history lessons, but has slightly higher motivation levels for alchemy, indicating that he can’t stop himself from putting a little bit extra effort into that class. i think it can be interpreted either way with the canon info we have currently, but regardless i would not say he’s the cooking fanatic people often depict him as. 

also, when jamil cooks, although his cooking is good, visually it’s usually very boring, to the point he and his sister would bicker over it. he has the technical skills to cook good food, but no idea how to present it. similarly, in his fairy gala SR he was told that although he perfectly memorised the dance, it was boring to watch - it looked like he was just executing the routine without any passion behind it. jamil is so emotionally repressed that he has no idea how to express his individuality. even in his bedroom, the only truly personal items he owns are a first aid kit (related to his servant position, not him as a human being) and a stereo + headphones set for dancing. he doesn’t have any other hobbies or interests - he doesn’t even know what people his age do for fun, because he’s never been allowed to think about such things. 

dancing is all jamil has that’s not directly related to serving kalim, really - but even that ties into his servant status. although he genuinely enjoys it nowadays and dances by himself for fun, he only picked it up as a hobby because kalim wanted to go to dance practice, and of course jamil had to accompany him. when his flashback after his overblot talks about him deliberately losing to kalim, the story focuses specifically on a dancing competition. which is why it’s honestly so important to jamil’s character that chapter 5 focuses on a singing and dancing competition. jamil finally has the chance not just to show off his skills in general, but his skills at the one thing he’s been allowed to love throughout his life. the one thing where losing to kalim at it hurt so much that it was such a prominent memory for him. when jamil was chosen as a main vocalist, he instinctively tries to say kalim would be better suited for the position, but stops himself and accepts it. it clearly means so much to him that he was chosen for this.

okay i started to scare people with how long this was getting when it was only 50% finished, i think if i write anymore people will actually be concerned for my health so i’ll leave it here. if you read all of this, thank you so much for putting up with my anime boy brainrot for over six full pages! i really.. really like jamil. again, i most certainly do not think his actions should be defended, but god if they’re not fascinating to read about. and i hope i covered the other sides to him well enough, the things that you’d never ordinarily pick up on because so few people talk about him outside of him and kalim as a pair (both platonic scarabia + romantic jamikali, i mean). he has so much depth to him that people don’t see and god i could easily have gone on for another few pages if i wasn’t forcing myself to stop. but please please talk to me if you want to hear more...

yana has treated him so well, jamil stans get too much food if anything but i’m absolutely thriving off it as you can see! thank you for allowing him to exist, yana-sensei!

having said that, i couldn’t stop myself from adding some extra facts about him below. please enjoy.

some fun jamil facts for your soul:

his sister used to bake him cookies on his birthday - specifically, these!

when jamil and kalim went to eat at the cafeteria with ruggie and leona, leona took one look at jamil and went “you look like you’d kill kalim in his sleep”

sebek and jamil find each other’s positions enviable. sebek wishes he could have been by malleus’ side from birth as jamil was with kalim, and jamil just… wishes he served someone he respected as deeply as sebek respects malleus (but he does think sebek is too enthusiastic)

jamil hates surprises with a burning passion, and despite being with kalim for 17 years is still not used to them. for his previous birthday, kalim held a huge surprise party, and i think he still hasn’t recovered from the shock

i think a lot of people already know that in his birthday SSR story he said he wanted a parrot after graduation so he could teach it to call him master, but it goes a bit further than that? it was actually first mentioned during his lesson chats, when kalim gets a parrot. jamil has to research how to care for it, and ended up wanting one of his own afterwards (but got too tsundere to admit it at the time).

also, he heard that the sorcerer of the sands’ parrot (iago) could speak as fluently as a human, and he got excited and watched a bunch of parrot videos on magicam, but was of course disappointed to find out that this was not the case.

he frequently uses flattery to try and get his way, like when he attempts to flatter vil during his SSR story - unfortunately he misjudged vil, as vil’s actually the type of person who hates meaningless flattery. because he does this so frequently, when he genuinely does give compliments people don’t always believe him.

according to the halloween event, jamil is surprisingly environmentally conscious, and insists on holding a sustainable halloween theme. after organising so many parties and seeing the waste they probably produce, i think there’s no wonder he’s so concerned about it.

[vanillacaramelhoney]

Different (3)

Pairing(s): Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: "YN?“ she called out. "YN!”

Warnings: This is probably the worst chapter so far and I would like to sincerely apologize for that

A/N: This doesn’t seem to be showing up in tags, even after reuploading it, so for those of you that see it, I’d really appreciate it if you reblogged!

Masterlist

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“We survived on scraps. Canned food, cockroaches, anything we could find.” Five let out a sad chuckle. “You know that rumor that Twinkies have an endless shelf life? Well, it’s total bullshit.”

Vanya had brought coffee for the two of them, and they gladly accepted it. YN had moved to sit on the floor to be closer to Five.

“I can’t even imagine,” said Vanya.

“It was the only way to survive,” YN told her.

“We adapted,” Five said. “Whatever the world threw at us, we found a way to overcome it.” He paused a moment.

“You got anything stronger?”

He ended up with a decent amount of alcohol, jumping right in for a sip. YN had declined her offers for some as well.

“You think we’re crazy, don’t you?” he asked.

Vanya, who stared at the two with a look that added to his suspicions, quickly shook her head lightly.

“No,” she stammered, “it’s just… it’s a lot to take in.”

“Exactly what don’t you understand?”

“Calm down, Five,” YN muttered to him from where she still sat.

“Why didn’t you just time travel back?” Vanya asked.

Five scoffed and blew a breath. “Gee, wish I’d thought of that,” he sassed. “Time travel is a crapshoot. I went into the ice and never acorn-ed.” That earned him an odd look from YN.

“You think I didn’t try everything to get back to my family?”

Vanya was quiet for a second.

“If you grew old there, you know, in the apocalypse, how come you still look like a kid?” she asked. “Her, too.” She glanced back at YN.

“I told you already,” Five said, moving past her to the kitchen. “I must have got the equations wrong.” He opened the bottle to pour more for himself.

“I mean, Dad always used to say that time travel could mess up your mind. Well, maybe that’s what’s happening?”

“This was a mistake.” Five put his class down. “You’re too young, too naive to understand.” Five walked past Vanya to the door as she objected.

YN stood slowly in the chance that she needed to join him.

Five looked back at Vanya.

“I haven’t seen you in a long time, and I don’t want to lose you again,” she told him. “That’s all.”

Five looked at the ground.

“You know what, it’s getting late, and I have lessons early, and I neep to sleep, and I’m sure both of you do, too,” she said. She laid a blanket out on the couch before looking at Five. “We’ll talk in the morning again, okay? I promise.”

She gave Five a quiet ‘night’ as she passed him, to which he returned.

The two watched in silence as she walked back to her room. Five sat on the couch.

“We’re not staying, are we?” YN asked.

With a sigh, he pulled out a cloth, unwrapping a fake eye from inside. He showed it to her, and she nodded in understanding.

They snuck out of the apartment, careful to make sure Vanya didn’t hear them.

Blue and red flashed brightly in the dark of night, and loud police sirens filled the area.

The area around Griddy’s Donuts was blocked off by officers, while others investigated the mess inside.

“This is a once in a blue moon type of situation I’d say,” Detective Eudora Patch spoke as she looked around the room.

“I’m inclined to agree,” her colleague, Chuck, said.

“Same gun on every vic, all M4s,” she remarked. “All the casings are .223s. Know what I think?” She looked over at Chuck. “I think these idiots all shot each other.”

“And stabbed,” he added. “One across the neck, one all over his backside, two in multiple different areas, and this guy got his neck snapped.”

Eudora crouched by said man.

“All quick and efficient kills,” Chuck commented.

“These guys were definitely professionals,” Eudora said. “Dumb, but professionals. Any witnesses?” She stood up.

“Yes,” Chuck answered, pointing to the corner of the restaurant. “One. It happened during her shift.”

“Oh, god.”

Eudora quickly walked over to the woman. “Agnes?”

“Oh, Eudora,” the woman sighed, watching as she sat across from her.

“I need to ask you a few questions,” Eudora said. “Did you see what happened here?”

Agnes sighed. ��No, not exactly.”

“Let’s start at the top.”

“Well, it was a slow night, it was quiet,” Agnes explained. “My last customers were this guy and his kid, and- oh dear, Eudora, YN was there.”

Eudora’s brows furrowed together. “Wait, what? She’s supposed to be at home right now.” The woman shook her head. “I- please continue.”

“The guy had a donut- no, no that’s not right,” Agnes shook her head. “The guy had an eclair, the kid had coffee, and YN had her usual. I went into the back room to just get some more change, but then I heard his truck start up. They drove away. I don’t know if YN left during that time, but I hope she did because that’s when I heard shots. And by the time I got back in here…” The woman trailed off, looking over at the mess surrounding them.

Eudora could feel her heart beating out of her chest. She wanted to run out of the shop and home, but she had a job to focus on right now.

“Was there anyone else in the shop?” she asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Agnes shook her head. “I’m sorry, not to be rude, but do I have to go through this all again?”

“Again?” Eudora asked.

“Well, I already told the other detective everything.”

“What other detective?”

Unlocking the door of her house, Eudora quickly stepped inside.

“YN?” she called out. “YN!”

The girl came tumbling around a corner, dressed in pajamas and hair wet.

“Hey!” she smiled at the sight of the woman, skipping toward her. “You’re home early for once.”

“Are you alright?” Eudora quickly fussed over her.

YN’s grin faded into a look of confusion. “Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Eudora sighed. “Why were you out at Griddy’s so late?”

“I wasn’t,” YN said, her confusion deepening. “I was here all day. I just got out of the shower not too long ago.”

“Agnes said that you came in earlier.” YN shook her head.

“Maybe it was someone that looked like me? All I know is that I didn’t go out to Griddy’s today.”

Eudora pursed her lips, her face still showing concern.

“Are you sure?”

“Mom,” YN sighed.

“Alright, alright,” Eudora caved, holding her hands up in defense. “Maybe it was just the shock that had her confused. I’m just worried about your safety. I don’t want anything bad happening to you again.”

“Nothing bad is going to happen to me,” YN laughed lightly. “Besides, I’ve already told you- I don’t remember anything that supposedly happened before you adopted me, so you don’t need to worry about it.”

With a sigh, Eudora pressed a kiss to the top of her daughter’s head.

“Alright,” she said. “Go get some sleep.”

With a nod, YN ran off to her room.

“I love you!” Eudora called after her.

“Love you, too!”

----Taglist

@fancytravelerbird​ @megasimpleplan4ever​ @yikes-matey

[fiction-in-my-blood]

Obey Me! Brothers W/ Mentally Slow MC HC

~Longer than necessary A/N ahead so, if you don’t care, you don’t need to read it, just sharing stuff about myself to random strangers on the internet lol.~

So... I’m slow. Like, my brain just does not computer things quick enough a majority of the time? I’m not a great conversationalist because of it, I have a pretty bad stammer, I mix up names even though they don’t sound at all the same, and I get too excited when I do know something that when I try to say it its just a jumble of words that don’t make sense and I tell my friends to just forget about it because I know I won’t be able to say the right words lol. Luckily I have great friends and they give me the time to rethink my sentence so I can say what I want to say. Oh, and I daydream to the point I never dream in my sleep haha. So, this is basically an HC for me lol. That being said, I’m pulling from mostly my own experiences here, so I’m sorry if they sound a lil depressy haha. 

And I would like to say, if anyone can relate, there’s literally nothing wrong with you!!! (Cannot stress this enough). We just have our fun lil quirks.

~Also, I’m so sorry for missing out on Belphie. I love him somuch but I could not think of a scenario for him. If I do in the future I’ll edit or reupload idk.~

~Oh, and @theshove , I finally posted again ;), although I’m sure it’s not gonna be as spicy as you’d like.~

Warnings: Descriptive explanation of a panic attack in Mammon’s HC, reference to bullying in Satan’s

~~~~~~

Lucifer:

At first, he was secretly pretty frustrated.

He thought it was a confidence issue, he heard that was a common thing in human youth, to not believe in yourself and have anxiety about the way you looked, spoke, sounded. 

You would often be having conversations with his brothers, debating a subject that Lucifer took no interest in, and you would be about to put in your input when a stream of nonsense passed your lips.

“Y’know what, nevermind.” Was a frequent phrase that left your lips when you did slip up, sighing to yourself as you thought about how ridiculous you just sounded. 

Lucifer would ensure none of the brothers, or Solomon, ever teased you about your mistakes.

Although, it was mortifying everytime you accidentally called him Levi, and vice versa. 

It was hard enough when you were still getting to know the brothers, but even on a date with the eldest, Levi just seemed like an easier word to say in the moment. It led to a few upsetting misunderstandings and some pretty severe punches to Lucifer’s pride.

Once you two got closer, you explained you mixed up your words because you used to be practically mute.

You weren’t a particularly extroverted child, nor were you interested in much, so you hardly spoke at all. You never got the practice you needed to familiarise yourself with words. It was Devildom that really brought them out of you.

After you did share that with him, he thrived off hearing your voice, even when it took a solid ten seconds to contemplate what you needed to say, even stretching your mouth muscles before you started just in case you stumbled again.

Of course, you made your mistakes now and again, got stuck on a word, laughing at how ridiculous you sounded saying ‘in’ several times in a row when you were trying to argue over tonight’s dinner, but Lucifer never cracked a joke like you did about yourself. 

He smiled, happy that you didn’t let this impact your personality and recovered quickly and, gradually, at snail's pace it felt like at the time, you could hold a conversation, a bright smile on your face when you were able to pull it off.

“Lucifer, I didn’t stutter this time!”

“Well done, MC, shall I give you a reward?”

Mammon:

“Useless human, can’t even talk, huh?” 

Trying to act like the big tough guy he played himself out to be didn’t fare well when you first arrived in Devildom, his brothers practically beat him up every other day for it.

The first time you laid your eyes upon a demon and they explained you would be a transfer student, it took you a few minutes of silence to understand what was actually going on.

It wasn’t because this wasn’t an extraordinary situation, you were an avid reader of fantasy novels and had waited for the day to be transported away from your boring, mundane life, but you just couldn’t compute verbal speech.

In potion class, you had to ask the teacher to write down the ingredients and the quantities because you couldn’t picture the words themselves, so you couldn’t understand what the potion was actually meant to do.

“What’re you writing it all down for?”

“It’s easier for me to listen when I can read what they’re saying. I guess it’s because my hearing’s crap?” 

But your hearing wasn’t all that bad, it was just easier to explain it that way than explaining how transcriptions help you listen.

Sometimes, in the hallways of RAD, the bustling students and whispering gossiping of you, a human, making a pact with Mammon? Apparently it was hilarious to everyone else.

But it wasn’t what the demons were saying, it was how loud they were saying it. 

It was just too many noises at once, you couldn’t decipher the surround-sound mumbling and it stressed you out, made you uncomfortable, and gave you that all too familiar feeling of a panic attack due to the sensory overload. 

Mammon realised your discomfort as tears grew in your eyes and your breathing quickened and, for a moment, he was moving to beat up every single devil that ever even mentioned the word ‘human’.

“Ma-Mammon!” Your frail voice and a tug on his sleeve pulled him back to Devildom and he turned back around to you, watching as you clenched your eyes shut, trying to ignore the buzzing that continued to rattle your brain. 

“Can you take me some place quiet?”

From then on, you would often spend your lunch breaks in a quiet classroom away from the majority of students. It was a good place for you to wind down, especially, when you two were close enough, Mammon would hug you closely, helping the panic in your heart when you did have a panic attack due to all the noises.

You didn’t have them as much now, the noise cancelling headphones he had bought you brought solace as you walked from classroom to classroom.

In class, he would try his best to act as scribe when you were running behind, but he did a terrible job. His handwriting was abysmal, only now did he appreciate how quickly you had to write to keep up with the lessons. 

You appreciate the sentiment all the same, placing a quick kiss on his cheek- you were dating at this point- and explained that he didn’t have to do that for you, you could just get a copy of the teacher’s notes after class.

Now he could never feel more guilty about picking on you when you first got to Devildom.

“Hey, Mamo?”

“Yeah, MC?”

“Thanks for not getting angry at me.”

Leviathan:

You were pretty silent, never really talking unless you were spoken to directly.

Yet, you still had that dumb, normie trap of cute smile on your face when you listened to everyone ranting and raving. 

When you did speak, it was quiet, almost a whisper.

Thank Diavolo for the demon’s enhanced hearing because, if they didn’t, they would be constantly asking you to speak up.

It wasn’t because you didn’t like your voice or you thought you were too loud otherwise, it was just because you couldn’t really be bothered to be louder.

You were content with just listening, watching everyone have a vivid conversation about the latest trouble Mammon had gotten into or Satan raving about the last Detective show you needed to watch. 

You never had any questions to ask in class, and the ones you did have would usually be asked by another student before you got the chance to even raise your hand. You weren’t a genius, just a good listener.

Levi understood, somewhat. Why would you want to talk to his normie brothers? They had nothing interesting to say.

Most of the time he suspected you just weren’t listening to them. 

But, it’s when you were alone together in his room as he told you about the latest anime he was enjoying, he got annoyed.

“Are you even listening to me? I don’t even know why I try. You don’t deserve Henry!”

“I was listening. You were explaining how you think the next season of TSL is going to go. I’ll admit, the Lord of Shadow saving that servant from the Lord of Corruption seems a little far fetched, but it’d be interesting to watch.” 

That had possibly been the longest group of sentences he had ever heard you string together at once. And they were so soft, no hint of trepidation from his accusation.

Eyes wide in embarrassment for misreading the situation, and getting so aggressive about it, Leviathan looked away.

“I’m sorry, I know I seem really dismissive all the time. I just enjoy listening to you talk about your passions.”

The bright smile on your face calmed him down, as it usually did, and, every so often, you would make your comments about the shows you know only because of him. He was very good at explaining plot lines. Even when you had never seen the show, you felt like you had.

You would mainly just talk to Levi from then on, getting to the point where you could express your own hobbies without him judging you as a normie and more as a friend.

Well, not a friend, more than that, much more, but a friend would have to do for now.

The first time you strike up a conversation with him, calling his name from down the hallway of the house you’re staying in as he walks with Asmodeus, Mammon and Beelzebub is possibly the greatest day of Levi’s life.

“Lefty.” You accidentally pronounce his name wrong, like you sometimes do with “Bell” and “Ashmo”.

You didn’t have any problems with saying their names normally, but when you were tired, all hopes of communicating like a normal human being went out the window.

Your words were a low mumble, but they were something Levi had learnt to understand fluently from your late night gaming sessions that would usually end in ruin when your tired brain drastically slowed your reflexes.

“I heard it was your 200,000th bicentennial birthday coming up, so I asked one of my friends to commission this for you.”

Only Diavolo knows how you managed to pronounce centennial at this time of night, but you did it, handing him a paper-wrapped, flat square, a light blush dusting both your cheeks. 

Asmo made a flirty, teasing comment about how close you two seemed and how, now, Levi was the lucky one.

Mammon got jealous, demanding that he wanted a birthday present, even though his milestone couple centuries had literally been a couple centuries ago.

Beel’s stomach grumbled, but he was a little curious about what you could have possibly gifted Levi, and how many words you just said as loud as they would usually be, which was wildly out of character for you.

“It’s the Lord of Shadow and the servant.” Levi gasped upon seeing the magnificent drawing your friend had made for you, which you insisted on paying for, and never had Levi been so jealous to have a friend like that. A friend with such talent. 

“You were right, he did save her.” You smiled, eyes twinkling at the positive reaction Levithan had made. 

You had seen the similarities in the characters with you and the demon. The servant was said to have had their voice stolen as a child, long before they and the Lord of Shadow had met. And it was obvious to you the similarities the anime brothers had with the demon brothers, but you wouldn’t dare tell Levi that. You were worried he’d get shy and call you a normie again.

So that statement you made was a form of confession to Levi. Something you hoped he would understand.

“You watched the season without me?! How did you even get the DVD? It’s not even out yet!”

Yeah, no such luck there.

“Levi, you know what isn’t fair?”

“What could possibly be unfair for you in this situation?”

“That you aren’t as good a listener as I am.”

Satan:

You were an avid texter, just like Satan. 

Your fingers moved so quickly against the screen of your D.D.D or the keyboard of a computer, it was amazing someone could see them. 

And you were smart. On electronics, you could keep up conversations on the latest book you were reading and discuss the detective shows you and he liked to watch together.

It was only when you spoke in person did your conversations so down.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” You cried out after a particularly long and troublesome stutter, mainly annoyed because it was an easy word but all the b’s tied your tongue like a tongue twister. Ironically, you felt like you were blubbering like an idiot.

Your stammer used to be worse, far worse. So bad you couldn’t even tell your parents anything without getting angry at yourself, but you got the speech therapy and learnt to just take it slow when you got eager. 

Everytime you see Satan, you want to be able to match his intellect and speed. You felt almost competitive. 

But it would hardly ever work out in your favour, your ‘S’s coming out like you were trying to start an old engine and ‘B’s and ‘D’s being switched in for each other like you were a toddler.

You spoke before you thought of what you were going to say, hoping the words would just float out of my mouth like everyone else’s did.

But no. Not for you. 

You had to carefully plan each sentence, thinking about every conversation you had so you could make a pre-made answer just so you wouldn’t look like a fool taking so long to speak.

You were ashamed most of the time, bullied for your impediment as a child and even in your teen years by people you told yourself were your friends but really weren’t when they called you teasing nicknames instead of your given one after you had asked them several times to use it. 

They were the main reason you still didn’t have the confidence to speak well now.

“Hey, take it easy. We’re not in a rush.” 

Satan would always be nice, politely giving you the time you needed to take a breather, calm down, and start over again, still blushing from your last stuttering episode.

“Why don’t you call me an idiot?”

A lot of questions similar to these, the only difference- the name you would be called, passed your lips sometimes, when there was a lull in your time together. 

You were used to people making fun, telling you to just shut up already so they didn’t have to hear your stupidity anymore.

“You’re not stupid. I care about what you have to say.”

Satan was always so serious everytime he answered a variation of your question, showing you he really cared. 

You blushed, your mind blank and it would take a couple minutes after that initial compliment for you to reboot.

It was true, though. 

Satan enjoyed watching your lips move and the sound of your voice as you two discussed who the killer in his detective show could be.

You both always came to the same conclusion before the episode ended.

Because most of your conversations happened through text, he found he missed your tone and expressive face when you got really into a subject.

He didn’t care if you stuttered, it was far better than just watching words flash across a screen, as most of your conversations went, on his D.D.D

Although, he did care that you got so angry with yourself. 

Being the Avatar of Wrath, he understood how easy it was to give into frustration and just want to hit something every time you made a mistake, he had done that many times in his younger years, and it wasn’t healthy.

It wasn’t healthy to be ashamed of a mere stumble or get mad at yourself for it, you never learnt that way.

One night, laying in his bed, platonically, you shared your reasoning behind getting so mad everytime you stuttered. 

You had seen Satan’s demon-form once before, but never had you seen it arise so quickly and so fiercely. 

You had been down all day and he had brought you to his room so you could feel comfortable enough to talk to him, but this fearful man, no, creature before you only put you more on edge.

But he continued to hold you.

He continued to wrap his arms around you from behind, spooning your body, trying his best not to fly out of hell right now and hunt down those who had picked on and teased you for all those years for something you couldn’t even help.

To think the reason you hated something he found so endearing was because some mere humans had made you think your excitement to communicate with people was something wrong?

“I don’t think this exchange program is going to work out.”

“Wh...Why?” You tried your hardest now to sound strong, sighing to yourself when you repeated the letters.

“Because I won’t be able to hold back if I have free access to the human world. What kind of assholes do that?”

“Teenage assholes.”

Asmodeus:

What a cute little airhead.

From the moment he first met you, Asmo loved the clueless looks on your face as you sifted through the information you were being given, seconds behind the punch everyone else could get to. 

You were slow, but you were meticulous, combing through every piece of information you could to give the correct response.

You were actually pretty smart because of that fact, studying so hard on everything you did so you weren’t embarrassed by being wrong.

And you weren’t too big with the whole ‘social cues’ thing either, mistaking Satan’s sarcasm for truth and Leviathan’s anger for genuine, relationship-ruining upset, desperately trying to fix the situation so that no one would get hurt.

You were selfless in the strangest of ways, too, opting to go without something you actually, really needed before asking someone for help. 

Once, you had tried ordering shower gel off of Akuzon, but, instead, ordered Shaitan Gell, a special ingredient often used by witches to summon demons. 

You had wondered why it was so expensive, but thought that maybe the Devildom economy wasn’t doing so well right now.

(It wasn’t your money you were using, so what the hell?)

It was even more confusing when it smelled a little off, but demons had strange tastes. Beelzebub literally ate brains and bat wings on the daily.

When Diavolo showed up in your shower the first time you used the oddly thick, black liquid, you just cocked your head, too weird to be embarrassed. Thinking this was a regular occurance in Devildom, you gave the prince a hearty hello and asked him, if he needed anything, could he please wait outside so you could get dressed first.

The news spread like wildfire, especially when Diavolo randomly vanished from a meeting with Lucifer. 

When everyone did find out, as Lucifer was reprimanding you for using such a relic in that way, they teased you endlessly, some offering you their own makes of the potion so you might accidentally summon them in the same way.

Every flirty or sexual remark Asmo made went right over your head, thinking that with every personal question he asked was just asked to make conversation and not genuine interest on his part.

“Do you have a partner?”

“Well, no, I don’t really compete in dance competitions or anything.”

“What positions do you usually go for?”

“I don’t play many sports, but if I had to pick, I’d say a pitcher in baseball. I have a pretty mean throw!”

It actually became a little bewildering how oblivious you were to all of his advances, thinking every time he draped himself over you he was cold and you offered him your jumper.

He took them everytime, so you were starting to run low. He tended to hoard them in his room, savouring the sweet scent of the body wash he had bought for you after the Shaitan incident.

“Asmo, can I get my hoodie back?”

You called through his closed door at some point after returning from school in the dead of winter, shivering in the sweat pants and long sleeved top you already had on.

You were generous, you didn’t think you personally were, but all the brothers knew you would give anyone anything if they asked for it. 

That’s why it wasn’t that ridiculous when Asmo had all of your jackets. Hoodies from years ago, sweaters you bought just to treat yourself because they were so soft, and even this jumper you got from your ex-boyfriend in high school, something you meant to give back but never managed to. You forgot every time you went to meet him with that exact intent the reason for seeing him.

It didn’t remind you of him, he barely wore it before you practically stole it, but it did make Asmo’s heart skip a beat at the ‘sweater-paws’ you got from the much-too-long sleeves. 

Following a clattering from what sounded like trash cans, followed by a comical shriek of a cat, the door flew open to a slightly disheveled Asmodeus, fabric clutched in his hand as he stood topless before you.

“Oh, sorry, Asmo. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’m just so cold.”

You laughed to show you weren’t upset with him as you rubbed your arms, bouncing on the balls of your feets to get your blood moving enough to create some heat. 

How could all these devils, avatars of the seven deadly sins, not have heating?

“Let me warm you up, MC!”

Without even stopping to hear your answer, but he knew you’d say yes, no matter what, Asmo pulled you in by the wrist, immediately wrapping his bare arms around you the moment the door was closed.

He was warm and you were comfortable with him, he showed you curiosity and care, so you eased into that embrace, thinking it a friendly gesture as a thank you for using your clothes all the time.

When you felt a slight nibble on your ear, you started to freak out a little.

You stuttered out an inquiry as to what he was doing, shyly pushing away as he drew back with his flirtatious smirk.

“I’ve made it so obvious for so long, MC. I really like you.”

Asmo cooed back, prodding your puffed out cheek with the tip of his tongue as you tilted your head to the side the same way you did every time someone told you something new. 

Knowing you would be taking a moment to compute the information, Asmo used this chance to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

“I really like you too, Asmo.” 

The realisation came pretty suddenly. 

You had never put much thought into it.

Sure, he was the Avatar of Lust, he could just be saying this so he could express his temporary desires, but that was how you felt. You weren’t one for holding back, you were always scared of forgetting the topics of your thoughts if you didn’t say them aloud, so you just went for it.

Beelzebub:

Does this person even have bones?!

Like, seriously, your tripping over your feet like they’re not even attached to your body.

Rolling your ankle, walking off in directions that definitely don’t lead to where you intend on going, skipping right passed the class you’re meant to be attending.

The amount of times you’ve gotten lost in both the House of Lamentation and RAD is honestly worrying. 

Your sense of direction? What even is a map because it seems like you’ve never even heard of the concept of signs or specific routes you need to take to get to your bedroom.

To help with your impossibly slow way of getting a lay of the land in your new dorm, you would often take midnight strolls.

Often getting lost, which is how you found Belphegor up in the attic, even when you had stayed on the same floor.

That’s how you and Beel got so close. 

Because of the delectable scents coming from the kitchen, you would often find him having his late night snacks. 

He would invite you to stay, at first only because Lucifer had instructed him to walk you back to your room every time he found you aimlessly wandering the house late at night. 

“Is your ankle okay?” He would ask through a mouthful of food, but somehow you were still able to understand him.

Blushing, you looked down as your injury that was caused earlier in the day. You had stepped weird on the side of your foot- something that would usually happen and something you would usually be able to walk away from- but this time it was on the tall spiral stairs of the school you were still getting to know, sending you tumbling down flights and flights of steps. 

It was a wonder you were human, because even Solomon was shocked you survived that. 

“Y-Yeah, just a little red,” was an understatement.

You’re ankle killed. It was only a little swollen thanks to the spell your sorcerer friend used on you, but that didn’t help the sprain of your tendons. It was slightly bruised, covered by your loosest, most comfortable socks.

“Are you embarrassed?” Beel pointed out your bashful blush and you looked back up. He had seen your obvious hobble as you made your way to his side, but didn’t want to mention it in case you were feeling fragile about the subject.

“It just gives me flashbacks, is all.”

Oh? 

Memories from MC’s past?

Yes, Beel would very much like to hear about that. 

Not to tease or bribe you with, he was genuinely curious about your little human life. Not that you could tell, but he had never been so curious about another being like that. 

“Oh, god, well, I guess I trust you.” You joked, blushing harder as you laughed about the memory that plagues your thoughts. 

One time, in high school, you were walking out of the cantine when you tripped over literally nothing, throwing your bottle of water across the school yard like you needed to save it from your fall. It landed in the middle of a group of older students. 

The amount of laughs you got from that. The teacher that came up to you to ask if you were okay. The cut that occured on your knee. 

(Yes, this is a personal story. Yes, I have ptsd every time I pick up a plastic bottle of water)

Oh, it was like you were reliving the horror right there and then.

“It was mortifying! My friends still bring it up. To. this. day.” You sulk, resting your forehead on the table to hide the deep red on your face. 

“Did it hurt?” The blunt question came as a shock, that’s for sure, and you no longer felt unbearably hot when you looked up to see him. There was little look of amusement except for a kind-hearted smile. 

“W-Well, not as much as this other time...” 

You found yourself telling him all of your most embarrassing tales, seeking for that one story that would make him laugh the way everyone else would laugh at you. 

He didn’t. At all. It was actually a little worrying that he found none of your stories funny. 

Truthfully, he did find the want to chuckle at a few of them, but he didn’t want to betray your trust by laughing at such ‘precious’ memories for you. 

[just-come-baek]

get in, loser 2

Pairing: Taeyong x female!reader

Themes: smut | mafiaboss!taeyong | carthief!reader | streetracer!reader

Word count: 8.3k

Summary: As controversial as it is, it’s Taeyong’s order for me to participate in the most prestigious race of the underground. As one may expect, it is frowned upon by other gang members.

Warnings: disregard for police enforcement | illegal street racing | improper driving | violence | character death | taeyong being the ruthless mafia boss | poor stress management | drinking

A/N !REUPLOAD! sorry I fucked something up. Next parts shall be posted on Tuesdays every two weeks. 

***

Getting up early in the morning isn’t really my thing. I was the most productive during late evenings and nights, and the fact that I had to be ready unusually early fucked up my sleeping schedule. Hopefully, it was the first, and the last time my presence was requested at such an unholy hour. Right after getting introduced to my new workplace, they had to be flexible enough to let me adjust the work schedule to my preference.

Unfortunately, Taeyong didn’t specify how early Lucas wants to see me the next day.  I guessed it was around 7 o’clock in the morning – it was late enough for an early bird, yet early enough for someone who doesn’t really fancy getting up at sunrise.

Having parked my starling Fiat500 in front of the building, I saw a man. He was leaned against the brick wall, smoking a cigarette. It must’ve been Lucas. Who else could’ve been? It was the asscrack of dawn, for crying out loud!

“You’ve gotta be kidding me… that’s your car?” the man asked as he flicked the butt of the cigarette, stepping on it, grinding it against the ground, visibly galled by my cute feminine vehicle.

“It’s inconspicuous,” I commented, trying to make my point. Blending in after hours was one of the most crucial things in this profession, I didn’t want to go on and scream that I steal cars and race for a living.

“You’re late,” Lucas whispered. Under any other circumstances, I would roll my eyes, but right now, I just couldn’t. I was just staring at him, slowly checking him out. He was ridiculously handsome, and I tried my best not to drool. “I’m Lucas,” he said, sending me a playful smirk.

Politely, I introduced myself despite him already knowing who I was.

“That’s impressive,” Lucas commented, and I shrugged, not wanting to go through this once again. “How did you do it? It’s not that easy to steal Taeyong’s car, let alone Yuta’s,” he added, and I sighed, trying to come up with a vague and equivocal answer.

“What can I say? You’ve gotta have charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent.”

“Alright, I get it, keep your secrets,” Lucas voiced, biting his lips as if in deep thought. “Sooner or later, I’ll figure this out,” he promised and smiled, willing to take this secret with me to the grave. (I had a bad feeling in my gut, telling me Taeyong would be pissed if he found out the truth about the theft, and I was too cowardly to admit the facts.)

“Are we gonna stand here the whole day, or are you gonna show me around?” I challenged, and Lucas took a step to the side, gentlemanly letting me enter the car repair shop, following closely behind me.

“Ladies first,” he added, chuckling.

It wasn’t a typical car repair shop. The space was huge, and it could accommodate at least fifteen vehicles. On the inside, it resembled a car factory, but instead of assembling the cars, people were taking them apart.

What surprised me the most was the fact that I was the only female inside. Though I knew it was a stereotypically a male profession, men to women ratio was astounding. I didn’t mind it, though. I knew I could beat every single one of them. Gender didn’t matter at all.

“Let me introduce the guys you’ll be working with,” Lucas mentioned, and a few men stopped what they were doing to look at Lucas and me. “Please, meet Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Chenle, Jisung, Jaemin, and Mark,” Lucas introduced them to me, but they didn’t seem very happy to see me. If anything, they seemed a little bit hostile.

“Hi guys,” I said, smiling and waving at them, but their intimidating auras didn’t change. It was awful, and I couldn’t imagine how difficult it was going to work with them. They obviously didn’t like me and didn’t respect me as if worthy of the same position. And it was especially weird because I knew I was better than all of them combined.

Ignoring their angry glances, Lucas explained their roles in this division. Renjun, Haechan, and Chenle were in charge of tuning up the cars, making sure they’re up to the racing standards. Mark and Jaemin were stealing the cars and bringing them here, and Jeno and Jisung were racing. Later on, Lucas revealed I was assigned to both – car theft and racing, and of course, the boys had to voice their objection.

Apparently, they had never heard of multitasking.

According to them, it wasn’t fair for a rookie member to participate in the street races. This position had to be earned through hard work, and they just couldn’t comprehend how much effort I had put to prove my value to Taeyong.

Well… to be honest, I didn’t suspect any of the boys to ever personally talk to Taeyong.  I highly doubted they had an idea of what I had to go through to get recruited. They probably had never heard of Yuta, let alone been to his area and stolen one of his vehicles.

“I hope we will work together just fine,” I declared, though deep inside, I knew it wasn’t going to be a smooth ride. I was sure the boys were to make my time there miserable.

And, oh boy, I was right…

***

Somehow, I managed to survive a week at my new workplace without quitting. At some point, I was really close to doing so, yet then I remembered what I had gone through to work here, and this thought alone kept me going. The boys were an enormous pain in the ass, but it would definitely take much more than juvenile bullying to make me leave.

I was a lot of things, but definitely, not a quitter.

Having acted tough the whole week, I needed something to help me chill, and the only person I thought of was my best friend – Doyoung. I was a gang member now, but I knew it wouldn’t matter to him – it wouldn’t have any impact on our friendship.

Within an hour, I was already at his car repair shop. Not bothering to announce my arrival, I strolled inside, looking for him. It was already weekend. All of his employees were recharging their batteries for the upcoming week, so the slim pair of legs under the Nissan Maxima must’ve been Doyoung’s.

Smirking, I slammed my hands against the hood, startling him in the process. Swiftly, Doyoung rolled out from under the car, staring at me angrily, as if refraining himself from murdering me with bare hands.

“Jesus Christ,” he yelled when he saw my face, apparently relieved it was me. “Ever since I helped you with that gig, I have terrible anxiety,” he confessed, and I couldn’t blame him. I felt the same, fearing that someone might want to get rid of me with violence.

“Good thing I stopped by,” I mused, excited to reveal my amazing plans. “I was wondering if you would like to go on vacation with me – my treat. We haven’t spent all the money Taeyong gave me that time, and he hasn’t mentioned anything if he wants the rest of it back, so I thought we could go to the beach. What do you think?”

“More like Mr. Bad Boy’s treat… It does sound tempting, though. Where is the catch?” Doyoung asked suspiciously, knowing me all too well. “Are you on another stupid assignment?”

“Well… not exactly,” I answered, looking away, nervously playing with my fingers. “They’ve accepted me as the newest addition to the family, though some of them gotta warm up to me yet,” I explained, shrugging at the thought of the relentless bullying. “But that’s not the point. Taeyong told me to get rid of the car, and  I thought of kindly returning it to Yuta. It’s only logical I send him back the car plates, yet far from home because I don’t want anyone to trace it back to me.”

Judging by the look on Doyoung’s face, he wasn’t completely sold on this idea.

“It’s like killing two birds with one stone. We’ll go to the beach, post the plates to Yuta, and then enjoy the rest of the weekend, sipping drinks by the sea. It’s a two-minute risk-free adventure. What do you say? We both deserve some leisure…”

Staring straight ahead, Doyoung must’ve weighed all the pros and cons of my proposition. Ultimately he decided he deserves some alcohol drinks with cute little umbrellas in the glasses.

“What about the other car?” Doyoung asked, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“I’ll give it back as soon as we return.”

“Fine.”

“Great! Pack your suitcase, the plane takes off in four hours.”

As soon as we arrived, we made a short stop to mail the package to Yuta, praying for him not to trace it back to me. The parcel contained the Ferrari’s plates, a key to the storage room in Japan where Yuta’s vehicle had been kept, and a tiny piece of paper with a sorry written on it. Hopefully, once Yuta gets it back, he will forget about the car ever being stolen.

Later in the evening, we checked into the hotel I had booked, left the baggage, and hit the SPA. Having taken all available services, I was calm, I felt like a lotus flower. Doyoung, however, still was anxious and whiny.

“You need some vitamin D, my friend,” I told him, and he grimaced at me in disgust. “You know… there’s this man, his name is Jaehyun. He’s a guy from work, and I’m pretty sure he could help you let off some steam,” I offered, and Doyoung shook his head, sassily wrapping his lips around the straw, sipping on his third drink of the evening.

To be honest, I doubted Jaehyun swung for the same team, but both of them needed to get laid. Jaehyun because I was really close to start believing his gaze could be literally lethal, and Doyoung because he was so whiny and intractable to be around. I knew it wouldn’t ever work out, but I had to, at least, try.

“I appreciate the proposition, but I don’t hook up with gangsters,” Doyoung said, setting his drink on the counter. “You know what…” Doyoung started, and I rolled my eyes, knowing his further statement will be both funny and hurtful.

When tipsy, Doyoung would often state things harshly without even thinking about running around the bush. “Being your friend has become really stressful recently. It’s a matter of time until I go completely bold, and it will be exclusively your fault.”

“I know…” I agreed, sighing in helplessness. “I’ve been a terrible friend, I’m sorry,” I whispered, resting my head on Doyoung’s shoulder, reaching out to hold his hand. “I’ll never put you in danger again, I promise,” I added, acting way out of my character. Usually, I wasn’t this emotional, but I suspected it was coming from pretending to be badass all the time.

“OK, enough of the weeping, let’s buy some alcohol to go and go get drunk on the beach, waiting for the sunrise,” Doyoung pushed my off of his arm and jumped off the barstool.

“That’s the spirit!”

***

“Gather round people,” Lucas yelled as soon as he entered the car repair shop. As always, he looked like a complete snack, yet I chose not to comment on that. Though we barely spoke with one another, everybody knew how big his ego was, and I didn’t want to inflate it even more.

“What is it?” Haechan whined at Lucas, being annoyed by the interruption.

“The color festival,” Lucas revealed, and everybody grew silent at the mention of the event.

Though a regular person wouldn’t understand what’s that big of a deal, to a car racer, it was an event of the year. It’s an annual the most prestigious car race in the country – participation alone is an honor. It’s every racer’s dream to take part and win, earning a shit load of money and fame. The participation fee is 50 grand per head, after all. Every year the date is different, and only the best racers are talented enough to be a part of it. No wonder Taeyong’s gang will have its representative.

“It takes place this Friday, and Taeyong has already decided who’s gonna represent us this year,” Lucas announced, and the boys started to guess whether it would be Jisung or Jeno. If I had to nominate anyone, it would be Jeno – his drifting skills were no joke. “As I was saying, it’s Taeyong’s direct wish that our special snowflake represents us in the competition,” Lucas specified, and the boys looked at me the way Jaehyun did – with hatred and disgust.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” I chuckled drily, but the boys didn’t change their attitudes.

No way! Taeyong couldn’t… he wouldn’t. Well... I expected him to respect me after what I had done, but this… it was too much. Some drivers worked their entire lives mastering their techniques to participate, and right now, I felt as if I had my chance served on a silver platter. The boys must’ve felt the same way.

I deserved to participate, but Jeno and Jisung did as well. I wouldn’t mind sitting this one out. Their bullying was giving me a headache as it was, another reason to pick on me was the last thing I needed at the moment.

“It can’t be,” Jaemin stated, too perplexed to voice a longer statement.

“Well… it must be, Taeyong’s orders,” Lucas added with a smirk on his sexy lips, ignoring all complaints. “Guys, behave, it’s not my decision to make. You can always try next year,” he tried to console the whining boys, but it didn’t seem to work. If anything, it only multiplied the anger they felt towards me.

“It’s impossible,” I muttered, but the boys didn’t pay any attention to what I was trying to say, “I’m pretty sure it’s not final. I’ll talk to him, I think I can change his mind,” I continued, but once again my words were muffled by the loud white noise of complaining.

“You can’t just call him,” Lucas remarked, trying to remind me of my position in the hierarchy. Now, when I was a valid member of the organization, I had to follow the rules, and Lucas was my superior to whom I was obligated to report everything back. Talking to Taeyong would be highly unprofessional; I had to stick to the code.

“Can you try to persuade him?” Jisung asked, full of hope.

Lucas laughed at Jisung’s question as if it was one of the funniest things he heard in years.

“To be honest, I don’t give a fuck who’s gonna ride this year,” Lucas started truthfully, and I gasped at the harshness of his words. He didn’t sugarcoat nor beat around the bush. “It’s Taeyong’s decision, and I am in no place to question his choice, so beat it.”

His words successfully shut everyone up; Lucas was mean and straight-forward, but it had to be done. Perhaps his leading skills were a little bit rough around the edges, but they managed to get the work done.

“You,” Lucas exclaimed, looking at me. “Meet me here before the race; we’ll pick up the car,” he added, turning around, leaving me alone with the boys, so they could take out all frustrations on me.

“Fantastic.”

***

As expected, the boys, Jeno and Jisung in particular, were giving me hell. It was obvious they were unhappy with Taeyong’s decision, yet I shouldn’t be the receiving end of their relentless bullying. If I could, I’d pay Taeyong a visit and persuade him to change his mind, but just like Lucas said, I was on the very bottom of the gang hierarchy.

At this point, I’d call it quits. Unfortunately, I was too far in the game to bow out. Right now, I could only endure their harassment in hopes of quickly getting promoted, leaving them far behind. It wouldn’t be the most challenging thing I had done for the gang’s sake.

It was a Thursday night. Within 24 hours, I would compete in the most infamous race of the year, and I was beyond mortified. I had drunk half a dozen mugs of double lemon balm, yet the stress was still eating me from the inside out.

It was oddly quiet. Usually, at this time of night, something was going on, but tonight, it was silent. Without any white noise, one could hear a pin drop.

Everything suggested I was alone in the car repair shop. Having slammed down the hood, I wiped my hands in the cloth and looked around. Where was everybody? Did they forget to add me to their group chat? Did they go out for a drink without telling me?

I strolled through their stations, yet I didn’t find anybody. They really left me behind. That wasn’t cool. We weren’t best friends, but I deserved to know if there was a staff outing. Maybe this time around, I’d pass, given the plans I had for tomorrow, but any other time, I’d be down to have a beer with them.

Perhaps, they would warm up to me if we could spend some quality time together.

Once again, I looked around the space and decided to call it a day. There was nothing urgent that I had to finish, so I closed up. I really wanted to come back home, relax, and psych myself up for the upcoming race.

Yawning, I slowly made my way to my car, which was parked two blocks away from the car repair shop. Lucas had suggested it was for the best if the boys didn’t see my vehicle, since it would definitely become another reason to pick on me. Though I didn’t care what they thought of me, I ultimately decided to follow Lucas’ advice. He was my superior for a reason.

The narrow street was barely lit, yet I made my way through it with ease. I had the route memorized by heart, even though I wasn’t completely familiar with this city district.

Once the car conjured in my line of vision, I reached into my backpack, fishing for the keys.

Unfortunately, before I managed to find them, somebody grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me onto the ground. Stupefied, I looked up and saw half a dozen of persons, each of whom clad in a black hoodie and a face mask.

I was being mugged in a dark alley.

The survival instincts kicked in. The adrenaline rush hit me in a matter of seconds. Just like mothers who can lift cars to save their children, I was in a combat mode, ready to fight off all of them. I was outnumbered, but when driven on hormones, I thought I stood a chance to defend myself and kick their asses.

Quickly, I got back on my feet and took a few steps to the back to distance myself from the attackers and strategize my next move. My first idea was to run away, but that wasn’t going to work out. Two men with crowbars crept out of the shadows, depriving me of the only escape route I could think of.

“OK, think,” I whispered under my breath. There were seven of them, two of whom had crowbars, while one of them pulled out a knife. Seven against one, it didn’t sound fair. Back in the day, I had taken some self-defense lessons, but it was a long time ago. If I had some skills unconsciously memorized, they would surely be rusty.

Perhaps, I could bullshit my way out of it.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, but none of the men even flinched. They were frozen in their spots, probably waiting for the best moment to attack. “I don’t have any money on me, but I can give you my wheels,” I proposed, but once again, I didn’t get any reaction. “It’s a measly car, but I got it checked by a mechanic a few days ago. It’s as good as new.”

It was like talking to a wall. I could run my mouth, yet I would never receive any reply.

Plan A didn’t work out.

They weren’t cooperative enough for me to implement plan B.

I had no choice but to go with plan C, which consisted of fighting back, hoping they wouldn’t beat me to death. It wasn’t the most optimistic scenario, but it’s what my mind came up with after doing the math. It wasn’t a fair fight, what were the odds of me winning?

Close to zero.

When I was about to pick which guy I should attack first, the one in front of me made a cutting throat gesture. It did freak me out, but on cue, I ran up to the one with the crowbar and kicked him in the nuts before he managed to smack me with the metal. Instantly, he crumbled down on his knees, dropping the weapon on the ground.

It was my opportunity to try to even the chances.

Everything happened so fast. One second I was wiggling my body from side to side in an attempt to dodge the attack, while a moment later, I was swinging the crowbar like a baseball bat. In all honesty, I wasn’t that bad, I managed to omit most of their punches.

Unfortunately, there were too many of them. At this point, I knew I wouldn’t win. The least I could do was to try to minimize the damage.

Though I could feel a couple of bruises on my thighs forming up and my blood oozing from my shoulder, I gathered enough strength to swing the crowbar at the man, hitting him straight on the neck, knocking him out. As soon as the man’s head collided with the ground, everybody stopped in their tracks, trying to register what just happened.

They couldn’t believe that a woman successfully fought back. It was a small victory, though. Six more angry men wanted to mug me. Or rape me. Or worse.

“You bitch,” one of them yelled, going towards me with a knife as if he wanted to gut me.

I saw everything in slow motion. He ran to me, screaming, and I tightened my grip on the crowbar, getting ready to knock him unconscious, too.

Before he managed to get close enough for me to hit him, we all got blinded by the lights. There was another car in the alley, scaring the men away. In an instant, they picked up their stunned friend and ran away, disappearing in the distance.

My vision couldn’t accommodate this amount of light, so I couldn’t precisely see my savior. Unfortunately, I was unable to see the person behind the wheel, but the vehicle looked like a Ford. Too bad it drove off before I could have a better look.

Worrying the thugs might return, I limped to my car and locked myself in. My pulse was slowly getting back to normal, and the adrenaline was wearing off, making me feel the pain. Each bruise and cut was hurting me, but I inhaled, flooring the accelerator.

***

When I woke up around noon, I was sore all over. Though I had taken some painkillers and put on ointment on the fragile skin, I still felt like shit. I wasn’t the best at treating wounds, and I discovered this fact about myself in the worst timing ever.

How was I supposed to win the most meaningful race of the year when I felt excruciating pain when I had to stretch my arm? How was I supposed to operate the gearbox in this state?

By the time I had to leave my apartment, I felt only slightly better. High on meds, I drove carefully to the car repair shop, expecting Lucas to already be there. It was typical Lucas – giving vague instructions, yet at the same time, demanding precision, or in this case, punctuality.

Gingerly, I parked the vehicle outside the garage, noticing Lucas leaned against the wall, smoking what I hope was just a cigarette. Putting a smile on my face, I undid the seatbelt and exited the car, waving at my superior.

“What the hell are you wearing? Are you going to a race or Lazytown?” Lucas yelled, amused by my outfit. I could bet it wasn’t a typical outfit for street-racing.

Tonight, I chose to wear a pastel pink wig that reached down to my shoulders, a mini dress in the same shade of pink, and a pair of white combat shoes. I had my reasons to wear this type of clothing, though.

First of all – diversion; I hoped the other contestants would underestimate me upon seeing my eccentric outfit. Looks might be deceiving, and at this point, I couldn’t wait to bask in the glory of their judging stares. In this outfit, no one would think of me as a threat.

Second of all – bruises; no one paid them any attention because all the curious gazes were focused on extravagant clothes. Moreover, I could apply another layer of ointment if needed because the skimpy outfit allowed me easy access to my bare skin.

Third of all – Taeyong; pink was his favorite color and it matched his current hairstyle. It was a bold statement to demonstrate whose gang I was representing in the race.

“The outfit is going to serve its purpose, so let me live,” I murmured, not in the mood for friendly banter. Lucas was ridiculously hot, and I respected him, but right now, I didn’t feel like joking around. “What car do you have for me?”

Lucas pulled the sliding doors to the side, letting me in, following right behind me. Though I tried to control my walk, Lucas quickly caught on.

“What’s happened? Why are you walking like that?” Lucas asked in concern, and I told him everything about the men, their attempt to mug me, and the savior. I didn’t even fail to mention how I knocked one of the guys out with a powerful hit in the neck. “I don’t really think it was some random dudes,” he concluded, taking a closer look at my bruises and cuts.

“Huh?” I mused in confusion.

“I think someone wanted to make sure you’re not participating in the race,” Lucas stated. I creased my eyebrows, unable to make sense out of his suspicion. It was ridiculous. Though I knew how to race, my name wasn’t widely known in the illegal underground racing circle. “It can’t be a coincidence you’re getting attacked one night before the event.”

Well… Lucas had a point.

“Can you race?” Lucas inquired, his voice coated in worry.

I did not expect that, but it felt nice. Lucas, being my superior, looked after me, and it was the first time I felt like a legitimate member of the gang.

“I’ve taken a lot of pills, I can pull through,” I stated, smiling half-heartedly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed, though I could already feel the medication wear off. This insignificant setback wasn’t going to stop me. I had something to prove.

“Alright then,” Lucas said, following me to the back. “Taeyong has personally chosen these cars. You can pick any of them,” he added, and I looked at the beautiful machines in amazement. “Oh, before I forget, he also said you get to keep it if you win.”

“For real?” I asked, and Lucas nodded, smiling at my reaction. “Sweet.”

Now, I really had to win.

Taeyong had selected three vehicles for me to use: BMW M2, Toyota Supra, and Porsche 718 Cayman. The three of them were white and shiny, and it was a real dilemma.

“Tough choice,” I whispered, struggling to make the ultimate decision. Each vehicle had incredible features, and it was impossible to pick the best one. It felt like having a birthday on the same day as Christmas.

“Be quick, we’ve got to go,” Lucas urged me, tapping his foot against the concrete floor impatiently. “Make up your mind, woman.”

“OK, fine, fine, let’s go with Toyota,” I answered, and Lucas put his hand into the pocket of his jeans, fished out three sets of keys, and threw one for me to catch.

“Let’s go, then,” he added, quickly making his way to the passenger seat.

“How does it feel like to win such a race?” I inquired, breaking the silence inside the car. I was speeding to the abandoned airport, while Lucas was texting with somebody, completely ignoring me. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to bond with him, but I couldn’t help my curiosity. Three years ago, being the youngest participant, Lucas had won the race, and I really wanted to know how it felt to make history.

Who knew? Maybe I’d be the first woman to win this race this year.

“Fine, I guess,” Lucas answered dismissively, not wanting to engage in the conversation.

“Oh,” I sighed, deciding not to pry further. We would have other opportunities to talk about it.

Once we arrived, Lucas told me to park the vehicle on the start line. The race would start in an hour, and until then, I had to mingle with other drivers and make my presence known. It was time for the rich men to make their bets.

“Hmm… that’s strange,” Lucas commented when I turned off the engine. “Taeyong’s here.”

“Is that strange?”

“He hasn’t attended such an event ever since he had won it five years ago,” Lucas explained, and I nodded my head, registering the new information. When Lucas put it like that, it really seemed out of character. “Interesting,” he added, deep in thought.

When Lucas got out of the car, I searched for Taeyong in the crowd. Thankfully, it wasn’t that difficult. This time around, Taeyong was wearing a green tracksuit set, thick-rimmed black Fendi sunglasses, and a pair of simple white sneakers. With his pink-ish hair and a custom-made Dior purse loosely hanging off his shoulder, he did not fit in this picture packed with gangers. Taeyong looked like a stray 4-year-old who got lost in a dangerous alley.

Following Lucas’ example, I exited the vehicle, and leaned against the hood, posing as a confident yet quirky driver. Though I expected everyone to underestimate my skills, deep inside, I wished to be recognized as a serious competition.

Looking around, I stared at Taeyong and deliberately ignored Jaehyun’s death glares. Even from afar, I could sense he hated my guts. I suspected I was the reason why Taeyong was here right now, and Jaehyun was unmistakably displeased by it.

With my eyes locked on Taeyong, I noticed Lucas joined him and whispered something into his ear. Whatever Lucas had told him, it made Taeyong visibly angry.

“Attention racers,” a female voice spoke through the speakers, obtaining everyone’s attention. “The race shall begin in thirty minutes. We ask all racers to pick up the GPS device box at the judge’s lounge. Thank you for your attention and good luck.”

Every participant had to install the device in one’s car. Once set in the vehicle, the racer could see this year’s route and all checkpoints. The fastest one to clear all the checkpoints and come back to the airport would win the competition.

Following all the instructions, I got ready for the race. In a few minutes, twelve cars would leave the airport in an attempt to chase their dreams of fame and success.

I was sitting comfortably in my seat, and though on the outside, I seemed calm, the courtesy of painkillers, I was freaking out internally. I didn’t even notice someone knock on the window, making me jump in shock.

“Jesus Christ, Lucas, you scared the shit out of me,” I cursed, rolling down the window.

“I just wanted to wish you good luck,” he added, smiling genuinely. “I spoke with Taeyong, and he would like to talk to you after the race in his mansion.”

“Oh.”

And with that, Lucas walked away, letting me relax some more before the race. I just had enough time to turn on my playlist, which consisted of Britney Spears’ biggest hits. It always helped me to uplift my mood, and I really needed that.

“Three,” the woman counted out loud, and all participants turned on their engines.

“Two.”

“One.”

At once, all the cars surged forward, and people cheered enthusiastically, not even muffling the loud engine roars.

The route had seven checkpoints in total, and since the race was called the color festival, each stop was named after the rainbow color. There was no specified order in which the contestants ought to clear them, yet most of them chose to drive east, toward the indigo checkpoint.

I, on the other hand, decided to head west. The more drivers in one area, the more chances of dirty tricks, and I didn’t want to end up getting pushed out of the route into the gutter.

Only four racers mirrored my actions, and out of the five of us, I was leading. With ease, I cleared the green checkpoint, but one Britney song later, the driver of the red 2020 Lexus SC caught up to me, driving straight into my back left lights, making me lose control of the vehicle for a second. Thankfully, I managed to get a hold of the situation before I drove into the dangerous turn.

This bastard scratched my car and cleared the yellow checkpoint before me.

I couldn’t let him get away with it.

Flooring the accelerator, I quickly found myself on the right side of the Lexus, staring at the driver. I recognized him in an instant. It was Felix, and he was infamous for dangerous driving. It didn’t matter how many drivers he had to send to the hospital to win the race.

Perhaps, it would be reasonable to let him be, but I was high on meds, and the logical solution fled my mind before I managed to memorize it. The only sensible reaction I could muster in the heat of the moment was hitting him before he hit me again.

Sticking my tongue out for Felix to see, I abruptly turned to the right, pushing him out of the road. Unfortunately, I didn’t hit him hard enough. Before I drove into another sharp turn, I saw him in the rearview mirror. He was back on the lane, trying to catch up with the rest of the participants.

“Too high, can’t come down, losing my mind, spinning ‘round and round, do you feel me now?” I sang along with Britney, driving through the blue checkpoint.

I was almost halfway through the race, and it was about the time when I ran out of luck. I could hear a loud siren ringing in the distance, followed by red and blue lights. It couldn’t be a good sign. Competing against lunatics was challenging, yet on top of that, I had to lose the police.

My first thought was to let the other drivers catch up to me, and then hope the police would chase them, but I quickly realized it was a dumb idea. The racers would out-speed the police cruisers anyway; it was stupid to purposefully slow down.

The next checkpoint was near, and it was my priority. I’d deal with the police by the end of the race. Of course, only if the police cruisers could handle such speed. It was doubtful, but I chose not to underestimate them.

“Fuck, it can’t be,” I cursed when I noticed the red Lexus again. “He is stubborn,” I added, once again flooring the accelerator, trying to keep as much distance from Felix as possible. This car would be mine if I won, and I didn’t want any more damage.

Then, a few seconds later, another car appeared a couple of hundred meters behind me.

Too bad the police were too incompetent to catch them. The sirens were still ringing in the distance, so it only meant they didn’t give up yet. I didn’t think they stood a chance against any of the sports cars in the race, but it was admirable that they still tried.

The red checkpoint was a couple meters ahead, and I reasoned I needed to step up my game. In order to win, I had to think out of the box. I had to do something they wouldn’t dare. I couldn’t play it safe if I really wanted to win.

Having cleared the red checkpoint, I made a U-turn without slowing down. If it wasn’t for the breaks, the force would pull me out of the lane, sending me flying off the cliff. Felix and the other guy were visibly confused when I started driving right at them.

Going over 180 km/h, I passed them and the police cruiser before I made an abrupt turn, driving through run-down, abandoned properties. Very few people knew this short-cut, and I hoped it would give me the advantage I desperately needed.

With no problem, I cleared the orange checkpoint.                

Only two more to go, I told myself, trying to uplift my mood.

The violet checkpoint resembled a war zone. Three cars were sitting on the side of the road, all scratched and damaged. Compared to this psycho who had done it, Felix was a harmless kitten. Thankfully, he hadn��t chosen to follow the same path as me. It made me sick to think I could be inside of one of these wrecked cars.

Or it was the meds overload in my system.

I couldn’t be sure.

Having passed the final checkpoint, I noticed a sports car. It was heading the same direction, so I concluded it was one of my rivals. The neon green Porsche Boxter was behind me, but it was catching up incredibly fast.

I had to get my shit together, or I was going to lose.

I could see the finishing line in the distance. Unfortunately, the green Porsche was right there, on my left side. Neither of us wanted to lose, and almost at the same time, we turned, smashing against each other. Sparks were flying everywhere, the sound of scratching metal was ringing loudly, yet no one dared to let go.

If I didn’t push him out of my way, we would tie, and this result was unacceptable. With my foot on the accelerator, I turned the steering wheel to the right as hard as I could. The vehicle barely moved to the side, yet it was still making progress.

Maybe it was pure luck, but the Porsche ran over something on the road, and its driver lost control of the car. It was my time to shine, so once again I turned to the right. The vehicles made a 90-degree turn, which resulted in me being the first one to cross the finishing line.

Oh my god, I won.

These guys could suck it because I beat them!

When I got out of the car, Taeyong and Jaehyun were gone. Lucas was the only familiar face in the crowd, and he actually ran up to me to congratulate me. “You won,” Lucas said, beaming. His smile quickly faded away upon seeing how wrecked the car was. “It was a new car,” he cried, calculating the damage.

“It’s still new,” I remarked, but Lucas didn’t find it amusing. Well… I could relate. After all, it was my car. I knew the second the painkillers wear off, I was going to in pain because of what I did to the vehicle. Hopefully, Doyoung would help me get it fixed.

A lady in a deep-cut bikini and sun-kissed tan walked up to me to hand me a bag of cash and a bottle of champagne.

“Everybody, make some noise for this year’s winner,” she screamed into the microphone, making the crowd go crazy.

I was smiling like a lunatic. People were cheering, and it was all for me.

Though I was craving champagne, I knew it wasn’t the best idea to drink it. The pills mixed with alcohol would kill me, so I opted for an alternative celebration. Swinging my arm, I threw the bottle at the car, smashing it against the scratched doors.

“Christening the car seemed appropriate,” I commented when I saw Lucas trying to process what I just did. “At this point, one more tear doesn’t make a difference.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Lucas said lifelessly, staring with concern at the vehicle. “You better go. Don’t keep Taeyong waiting. He’s not a patient person.”

***

Having parked in front of Taeyong’s big ass mansion, I made my way to the main entrance and rang the bell. The doors opened a few seconds later, and Jaehyun looked at me from head to toe, stepping to the side, letting me in.

It was my first time in Taeyong’s palace, and the interior was breathtaking. Everything looked expensive, and everyone must’ve felt the wow effect during their first visit. Though I knew he had a shit load of money, witnessing his wealth first hand was an unforgettable experience.

“Stay here, I’ll get Taeyong,” Jaehyun ordered, and I smiled sheepishly, not wanting to mess with someone who could easily murder me. “Don’t touch anything,” Jaehyun added as he turned around, catching me red-handed on trying to brush my fingers against the sculpture, which was set on a coffee table.

Two minutes later, Taeyong joined me in the spacious living room.

“Lucas told me you won,” he spoke as he plopped down onto a leather couch, putting his hands into the pocket of his disgusting green tracksuit. “Good job.”

“Is that why you wanted to see me? To congratulate me?” I asked out loud, wanting to smack myself the moment the words left my mouth. Of course, Taeyong didn’t want to congratulate me; he had invited me to his mansion before the race even began.

“No,” he replied shortly, and I smiled sheepishly, trying to forget this incident. “You know what I will never tolerate?” Taeyong asked, and I sighed in thought.

“I don’t know… Hmm… it’s a wild guess, but is it Hawaiian pizza?”

“No,” Taeyong denied, smirking at my random guess. “I will never tolerate treason, doll.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to figure out what he meant. I hadn’t done anything to betray him, yet he still somehow found something to punish me for. No way, it wasn’t possible. Had he figured out how I really had stolen Yuta’s car?

Fuck.

“Come on, doll. Let me show you,” Taeyong whispered, standing up. With his eyes on me, he smiled and stretched his hand. Anxiously, I let him hold his palm around mine as he led me to the basement.

It wasn’t a good omen.

Despite all of my achievements, Taeyong was going to kill me.

“The pink really suits you,” Taeyong spoke out of the blue when we slowly made our way downstairs. “I really like this hair on you,” he added, playing with the ends of my wig.

“Thanks, I was hoping you’d like it,” I answered, trying not to show how intimidated I was.

“Oh, I do, doll,” he smirked, pushing a pair of big pine doors open, stepping to the side, letting me in first.

Inside the room were seven men tied to the chairs with a piece of cloth wrapped around their eyes. Since there was only one light bulb, it took me a while to recognize them.

They were my colleagues from the garage. What the hell were they doing here? Why had Taeyong imprisoned them? What had they done? It was them who had betrayed Taeyong? No, it didn’t make any sense. He wouldn’t have invited me if it was about them.

“I don’t understand…” I commented, my eyes focused on the tied men in front of me. The moment when I looked at Jisung, I saw a wound on his neck.

Then it hit me.

It was them.

They had tried to kill me last night.

“As I said, I cannot tolerate treason,” Taeyong voiced as he began to rip the makeshift blindfolds off their faces. “Working against the gang is unacceptable, and you dared to hurt one of your own,” he spoke, and I trembled, afraid to witness what’s going to happen next. “Who came up with this stupid plan?”

Silence.

“Alright then,” Taeyong concluded through gritted teeth. It was the first time I saw him this angry, and I was scared. I’d shit my pants if I were the reason for his wrath. “Come here, doll,” he ordered, wanting me to join him. “Pick your weapon,” he told me, and I looked at him in confusion. What did I need a weapon for?

I looked to the right and saw pegboard tool storage on the wall. It was an impressive collection of torture weapons, and Taeyong wanted me to use them on the traitors. It was wrong on so many levels, and I really didn’t want to do it, but the perspective of wronging Taeyong seemed even worse. I would rather hurt them than let Taeyong hurt me.

“We don’t have a whole night, doll,” Taeyong urged me, and I grabbed the first thing which was in my arms’ reach. It happened to be a hammer. “Excellent choice; who should we punish first?” Taeyong asked, resting his arm over my shoulder, smiling like a maniac. Without any doubt, it was to bring him a lot of pleasure.

“I don’t know…”

“Alright, then,” Taeyong smiled in amusement before he started to sing the eeny, meeny, miny, moe counting rhyme to select the first victim. At first, I didn’t look, but once Taeyong stopped singing, I opened my eyes to see that his finger was pointing at Haechan.

“Do what you gotta do, doll,” Taeyong ordered happily, leaning against the wall, making sure he had the best view at the scene unfolding in front of him.

I wanted to cry, but I tried my best not to. As a part of a gang, it was inappropriate to show vulnerability. I didn’t want Taeyong to revoke my membership, especially when the only way to leave the gang was through excruciating death.

“Where should I start?” I asked myself under my breath, having no idea how torturing worked. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a way of inflicting the least amount of pain, while maintaining the expected level of Taeyong’s satisfaction.

Having closed my eyes, I swung my arm, hitting Haechan’s palm with the hammer, making him groan in pain. “You bitch,” he cursed, and I repeated the blow a couple of times until his hand looked like a smashed pomegranate.

Haechan was yelling in pain, Taeyong was chuckling in amusement, and I tried my best to refrain myself from crying. Though I didn’t particularly like Haechan, and he had been a real pain in the ass with the bullying, he didn’t deserve such punishment. How was he supposed to work at the garage without his dominant hand? His career was basically over. It was a dick move to attack me, and though I was awfully petty, the punishment was too severe.

“Who came up with this stupid plan?” Taeyong questioned again, yet none of the boys dared to speak. Not even Haechan, who was in a tremendous amount of pain. “Here, hold this,” he added, handing me a baseball bat, “I got bored of the hammer.”

Obediently, I grabbed the baseball bat and hit Haechan in the stomach until he started coughing blood on my pink dress. “What the fuck?” I cursed, getting angry at the minor inconvenience.

“Stop it, you’ll kill him,” Jisung yelled, trying to shimmy himself out of the ties. “I did it. I told them to beat her up. She didn’t deserve to ride in this race,” he carried on, and Taeyong sighed, walking up to Jisung nonchalantly with his hands loosely tucked in the pockets.

“It wasn’t that hard, was it?” Taeyong asked as he bent a little and caressed Jisung’s chin. “I really appreciate your honesty,” he added before he pulled out a gun and shot him in the head.

It was hard to process, but he really did shoot Jisung.

“Good job, doll,” Taeyong congratulated me with a smile before he fired his gun once again, this time shooting through Haechan’s forehead. “What? He was useless without his hand anyway,” he commented upon seeing my shocked reaction.

“You’re not gonna kill them, are you?” I quietly asked as I leaned against Taeyong’s frame, clinging to his chest. None of them deserved to die, yet I hoped Taeyong would spare the remaining five.

“No, I think it was enough for them to learn their lesson,” Taeyong revealed, and I sighed in relief, glad the bloodshed was over. It was the first time I saw somebody get killed, and it was a morbid sight. I wouldn’t mentally handle the situation if he decided to murder them all.

“Can we go now? The blood makes me sick,” I confessed, and Taeyong once again wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulled me to his side, and led outside. Surprisingly, regardless of what I had seen a while ago, his hug felt genuine. “I have a question, though.”

“Shoot.”

“How did you know it was them?”

Taeyong smirked, “who do you think was in that car that scared them off?”

“You?” I asked, cocking up my eyebrow, trying to process the newfound information.

“No, what I would be doing there?” Taeyong denied, making me even more confused. “I told Jaehyun to pick you up and bring to my mansion. However, when he saw you were attacked, he drove off and hunted them down.”

“I guess I owe him big time.”

[doiedreams]

mid-mission // x.dj

synopsis: You and spy!Xiaojun find yourselves in a tricky situation during a mission. To avoid getting caught, Xiaojun thinks of a clever way out that leaves you shocked.

fluff ద (??), enemies to (almost) lovers

1.2k words

warnings: none

“Could you shut up, please?” you snap at spy!Xiaojun. In a moment where the two of you needed to be quiet and discreet, he couldn't seem to shut up. “Focus on the mission and stop talking about your cat. Please.”

Xiaojun wipes the palm of his hands on the pants of his completely black outfit and pulls down his mask to speak. “I’d rather be anywhere but here right now. Excuse me for trying to make this easier to get through,” he responds. He then pulls his mask back over his nose and mouth, repositions his flashlight, and reaches into the dumpster once again. “Remind me- What are we looking for and why would it be in this dumpster?” Xiaojun questioned.

You sigh. “We’re looking for the tracking device they took,” you say, gesturing towards the building you were dumpster diving behind, “and ‘cause Boss said so.”

The night sky suspends over the both of your heads like a rich black blanket. The flickering street lights only illuminate a small section behind the building, allowing you and Xiaojun to remain somewhat hidden in the slot of darkness at the dumpster.

You look around to see if anybody is watching the suspicious activity you're partaking in. No one around.

You look around to see if anybody is watching the suspicious activity you're partaking in. No one around.

You look around to see if anybody is watching the suspicious activity you're partaking in. No one around.

“You need to be a lot quieter,” you tell Xiaojun.

He rolls his eyes in response. ”What do you expect me to do?” He continues rummaging through the mass of junk, in search of the unsuspecting gadget. Xiaojun’s elbow crashes into the side of a dirty, old, cast iron skillet, producing a loud ringing noise that echoed throughout the alley.

At that moment, he sucks in a sharp breath and withdraws his arms from the dumpster.

“Ah!” he yelps, wincing at the pain in his elbow.

“Shh!” You urge him to stay quiet but you couldn't help but snicker. “If you had been more careful-”

“You know what? You do it then,” Xiaojun snaps, tossing you his flashlight. “It’s not like you're being any help by standing there, making stupid comments.”

Rubbing his elbow, Xiaojun backs up from the dumpster and makes way for you.

“Fine, then,” you accept. You walk up to the dumpster and gag as soon as you catch a whiff of the various smells it's contents were producing.

Xiaojun smirks at your reaction. “Go ahead. Dumpster dive. It can’t be that hard right?” He mocks.

“Okay, first of all, I never said it wasn’t hard. I was telling you tha-”

“From the way you were talking to me you basically implied that you think it's so easy. So why don't you-”

“Now you’re just putting words in my mou-”

Your bickering was brought to a halt when you both heard voices around the corner.

You freeze and stare at Xiaojun with widened eyes. He mirrors your actions.

Frozen in place, you listen closely to the pair of deep voices accompanied by heavy footsteps getting closer and closer to the alleyway. You look in the direction of the voices and see a spot of light wavering with each footstep.

“Xiaojun,” you tug on the sleeve of his jacket, “They have a flashlight.”

The steps get louder and louder as the light gets brighter and brighter. It would only be a matter of time before they turned the corner and saw you and Xiaojun next to the wide-open dumpster.

Xiaojun gazes down at his feet, seeming to be in deep thought. He takes off his mask and unzips his black jacket.

“I don't know what you're thinking, but we're running out of time,” you whisper. “Let’s hide beside the-”

Cutting you off, Xiaojun swiftly takes your mask off of your face and pulls you in by the back of your neck.

The sensation of his soft lips on yours catches you completely off guard. You instinctively want to push him away, but when his grip on you tightens, you quickly realize this was part of his clever idea to avoid jeopardizing your mission.

You close the space between your bodies and kiss him back. His hands were now on your waist as yours tugged on his hair. You had successfully created the standard image of two reckless kids fooling around in a back alley.

“Hey you! Get out of here! This is private property.” A deep voice startles both of you, and the two of you jump apart as if you weren't expecting to get caught. A flashlight was now shining on you and Xiaojun.

“We’re not hurting anyone,” Xiaojun retorts before pulling you back in. His boldness excites you and your face got hotter by the second.

“Don’t make me say it again. This is trespassing. You want me to call the cops?”

You manage to pull away from Xiaojun’s face and say, “No sir, we're sorry.”

Xiaojun’s lips have migrated to your neck, ignoring the man’s voice and your apology. You nudge him off of you. “Come on, let's go.”

“That’s what I thought,” the man said. He was standing next to a smaller man who had the flashlight with him. “Shut the dumpster on your way out.”

You hear the men mutter something about ‘rowdy teens’ before they turn back to where they came from. You and Xiaojun pick your masks up from the ground, close the dumpster, and quickly leave the area.

The heavy silence between you and Xiaojun was almost suffocating. You wanted to hear him speak first, but he stayed quiet, almost unaffected by the previous events.

Xiaojun was focused on the open road while you looked out the tinted window. The only sound was the hum of the air conditioning circulating in the automobile.

“So...” you start reluctantly. ”That was a... creative idea you had back there.”

Xiaojun glances over at you for a second before he redirects his attention to the road.

“Yeah. I had to think of something to undo the mess you made.”

You gasp and hit his shoulder. ”You’re seriously gonna blame that on me?!”

“You started the argument didn't you?”

“You’re so annoying! That was your fault.”

You open your mouth to make another point to him, but before you can speak again, he says, “Is this your way of asking me to kiss you again?”

The words cease from leaving your lips. You gape at him in disbelief for a second, then turn your face back towards the window. You hear him giggle from the driver's seat.

“Wow, I really hate you...” you mumble. You nibble at your bottom lip, wishing your embarrassment wasn't so obvious.

You suddenly remember something that made it easier to avoid the topic at hand.

“We never got the tracking device, you know,” you tell him.

“We can just do this again tomorrow.” Xiaojun grins at you, and embarrassment creeps up on you again. Suddenly the car feels way too warm.

You decide it's best to stay quiet for the rest of the car ride, allowing Xiaojun to stay smug about his successful scheme. Although both of you decided to lay the conversation to rest, you'd be lying if you said that you weren't hoping for tonight’s events to repeat itself.

a/n: I was having many issues uploading this and had to delete it completely and reupload it hoping the glitches would resolve that way. If it didn’t, I’m super sorry 😬 just pretend you don’t see 🙈❤️

Big thanks to @pastelsicheng for proofreading this!! <3

[xbaepsae]

prove it (m)

“How could he not see how this was all affecting you? Why didn’t he realize you needed him to be present in your life? But as much as you needed him to be one hundred percent here for you, a part of you would just rather have him one hundred percent gone.”

[boyfriend!jeongguk x girlfriend!reader]

genre: estranged relationship!au, smut, some angst

word count: 4.9k

rating: mature

warnings: mutual masturbation, jealousy, language

a/n: this is another reupload! i went back and reread this and, honestly, it’s not too shabby. granted, it’s not that complex, but i enjoyed writing this estranged relationship between jk and the reader. kind of want to write a follow up. let me know lol. xoxo

Long distance relationships suck.

Even for the strongest of people, separation is never easy. Ideally, everyone wants to believe that not being with the person they love all the time isn’t a big deal. However, after a while, there are different factors that cause major stress in a relationship.

There’s a lack of communication sometimes; you can’t physically see them often, so you resort to the basic text and phone call. Still, it’s not the same. Seeing someone through a phone is vastly different than physically being with them. There’s a lack of intimacy too; no holding hands, late night cuddles. Your toys and hands can only do so much, unfortunately.

Being long distance wasn’t always the case for you and Jeongguk, but it became a reality when you both decided to attend different universities.

Early in your relationship, you both avoided talks about the future. In the back of your mind, you already knew that you both had different plans for college. But you didn’t want to admit it out loud—not even to him.

A part of you was afraid about the longevity of your relationship. Most long-distance relationships, and even more so with high school relationships, don’t really make it. But you loved Jeongguk; you don’t think you’ll ever be able to love anyone else as much. As cheesy as it may sound, he’s your other half. You knew that there were others out there, but you didn’t want anyone else.

“You’ll call me every day, yeah?” you asked him the day you both graduated.

“Of course,” he caressed your arm. “Every day.”

The first semester at college, you both talked nearly every day. And you were happy; so happy that despite the distance, not much had changed. Even with your different schedules, you both still made time for each other. You both even visited each other—you went to see him during Halloween, and he surprised you before your finals.

But of course, life gets in the way.

After the first winter break, the communication between you two dwindled. And after that first summer, everything changed. Even when you both did happen to be home, you barely had the time to talk let alone hang out. You found out more about Jeongguk’s life from his Instagram account than you did directly from him. Every time you scrolled onto his page, countless pictures of him partying and hanging out with his friends filled your screen—and yet, no time to give you a quick phone call. It was frustrating.

You considered calling it quits multiple times—what is the use of being with someone if you both don’t act like a couple? It was so bad; you couldn’t even remember the last time you two were in the same room. But every time you brought up the issue, Jeongguk did some redeemable act and you forgave him instantly.

It seemed to be a never-ending cycle.

And now, even though you both were well into your third year in college, Jeongguk was still tethering you on a string. How could he not see how this was all affecting you? Why didn’t he realize you needed him to be present in your life? But as much as you needed him to be one hundred percent here for you, a part of you would just rather have him one hundred percent gone.

***

3:14 PM | Jeongguk: I’ll call you later

3:15 PM | You: for real?

You watched the text bubble pop up for a few seconds before disappearing. And when it disappears, it doesn’t pop up again. A sigh leaves your mouth as you drop your phone onto the table.

“Are you texting him?”

Looking up, you make eye contact with your friend Taehyung. “Yeah…”

“And?” Taehyung prompts you to finish your sentence.

“And…he said he’ll call me later,” you say, “but these types of texts from Jeongguk are pointless and disappointing.”

You met Taehyung your first year at college, and immediately hit it off. You helped him with his math homework, and he paid you back by listening to all of your Jeongguk drama. Sometimes you wished you could fall for Taehyung—a relationship with him was bound to be easier than the one you had right now—but he was already in a deeply committed relationship with the cute librarian assistant, Jimin.

“I mean, at least he texted you, right?” your friend attempts to make you feel better, but you feel anything but that.

“I guess.”

“Well don’t be too hard on yourself, buttercup,” Taehyung smiles, “because today is not the day to be down in the dumps!”

Half the time, you have no idea what the words that came out of his mouth even mean. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you remember?” You have no idea. “It’s Hoseok’s birthday tonight!”

After a few moments, the gears in your head begin moving and you remember Taehyung mentioning something about it last week. You aren’t really close with Hoseok though; he’s Taehyung’s friend and a member of the soccer team, so it slipped your mind.

You have only chatted with Hoseok twice; once was at a party freshman year and you were wasted, and the second was in line for coffee at Starbucks; but you were pretty sure he had no idea who you were. “But I don’t really even know him.”

“Y/n, he doesn’t care who comes; hell, I think he invited the entire school. Besides, I already told him that you’re my plus one since Jimin can’t make it.”

Even though it was a Friday, you were not in the mood to do anything. All you wanted was to return back to your apartment and sleep until Monday rolled around. “Tae…”

“It’ll take your mind off of Jeongguk,” he says in a sing-song voice.

And he’s right—it will be a distraction from your issues in the love department. You think about it for a moment before deciding to hell with it; you’re going to allow yourself to enjoy tonight. “Okay fine, I’ll go.”

Taehyung gets up in that moment and engulfs you in a hug, which attracts the stares of many people in the room. “Thanks y/n!”

“I think you can let me go now,” you pat his back and he lets you go with an airy oh.

“Okay, well, I’ll swing by your place at around seven and then we’ll goooooo!”

You laugh at his enthusiasm and bid your friend goodbye as you both leave. You’re pretty sure Taehyung has a class, but he’s going the opposite direction…so you’re not sure what he’s doing. But you don’t think too much about it and make it back to your apartment. There, you greet your roommate, Nana.

“Hey, girl hey,” she smiles, and you’re struck once again by how pretty she is.

You and Nana have been roommates since you both started going to school here. Most people don’t end up living with their first roommate their entire stay at college, but you both got along well and there has never been a problem. Also, you two just knew too much about each other’s living habits at this point to live with other people.

“Hi,” you smile back, setting your things down before falling down onto the couch beside her.

“So, how was your day?”

Since you both are juniors and have busy schedules, it seems like you never really get to see each other. Which sucks because you honestly consider Nana to be your best friend, besides Taehyung of course.

“It’s been okay,” you begin, “I barely passed my exam in history and managed to turn in my paper for lit right before the deadline…and Jeongguk texted me.”

“Jeongguk texted you?” she only seems to pick up the last bit you said.

“Yep,” you pop the end of the word.

“How’d that go?”

You give her a look, “Horrible.”

Nana gives you a sympathetic smile, “Sorry boo that you have such a shitty boyfriend.”

“He’s not shitty…he’s just…” you try to get the words out about how loving Jeongguk really is, but your mind fails you. Maybe she’s right. “Okay, maybe he is being a little shit right now.”

“You know, I really liked Jeongguk when I first met him,” your roommate says. “But then he just stopped coming to see you.”

You sigh and burry your head into a pillow, “I know.”

“What did he even text you about?”

“He said that he’ll call or whatever—but I’m not even sure if he’s serious, or just messing with me,” you lift your head up. “Do you know that we haven’t talked since school started again?”

Nana gasps, “That was almost two months ago.”

“Exactly.”

“Y/n!” she screams your name. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m actually going crazy, Nana,” you feel defeated; what kind of relationship is this? “But maybe tonight will get this shit off my mind.”

“What are you doing tonight?” she asks.

You explain how Taehyung has basically dragged you to Hoseok’s birthday party and even though you don’t want to go that much, you need to forget about Jeongguk for one night. Nana thankfully agrees with you. She even says that you can borrow one of her dresses since you don’t, in her words, own anything nice.

“Wow are you saying I have no style?” you pretend to be hurt.

“I’m saying you don’t have clothes appropriate for nights like these,” Nana laughs and tells you to follow her to her closet.

When you walk into her room and open her closet—you let her have the bigger closet because she has more clothes than you anyway—you’re not surprised to see a variety of mini skirts and dresses. Nana definitely goes out more than you ever do and proclaims that she can never wear the same outfit twice. “What shall we put you in?”

You shrug, “I’m down to wear anything.”

But maybe you’re giving Nana too much free reign because as she begins to dig through her closet, she pulls out the most revealing dress you’ve ever seen. She tosses it you before you can blink and demands that you have to wear it.

You nearly fall over from the force of the dress, but somehow manage to catch it. Pulling it away from your body, you immediately begin to shake your head. There was no way in hell you can go out in public like this—you don’t even want to wear it in the safety of your apartment. The dress is black with a plunging back and an equally plunging front. And with its short length, it leaves nothing to the imagination. “Hell no.”

“Come on, y/n!” Nana whines, mouth dropping when you fling the dress onto the floor. “This dress will look so good on you!”

“I don’t think anyone can wear this dress,” you frown as she hands you the dress again.

Your roommate rolls her eyes, “Please—I wore this! And I got a ton of male attention that night…you will too.”

But you don’t want the attention of multiple guys, just want the attention of one. “I don’t know, Nana. I’m not one to wear this kind of stuff…”

“Just this one time! Trust me.”

And even though you’re completely out of your element, you succumb to Nana’s demands and trudge into the closet to try the dress on. You let your clothes fall onto the carpeted floor and slip the revealing dress on. Surprisingly, even though you and Nana aren’t necessarily the same size, the dress seems to fit; you just hope all your precious body parts aren’t hanging out on full display.

When you step out for your roommate to see the dress, her jaw drops, and she lets out the loudest ear piercing scream you’ve ever heard. It’s so loud, you’re positive the neighbors heard it.

“Oh my god, y/n! You look so fucking good,” she pushes you towards her full-length mirror and the air seems to leave your lungs.

“I…” you’re at a loss for words, “I…actually like it?”

Nana screams again and proceeds to hug you, but you can’t stop staring at the mirror. You hated the way the dress looked on the hanger; now, is it crazy for you to say it makes you feel like a bad bitch? It feels like you can conquer the world.

“I told you!” Nana exclaims. “God—you look so good; you can just keep the dress after this. I don’t think I could ever wear it again after you just slayed my existence.”

“Okay, you’re just being dramatic at this point.”

“But no seriously, you look amazing and fucking Jeon Jeongguk is missing out,” she says hugging you again. “Can I do your hair and makeup?”

A few hours later, the doorbell rings as you slip your shoes on. Nana runs to answer the door and you smile as Taehyung walks in. The moment his eyes land on you, he stops in his tracks and brings a hand up to his mouth. “Y/n?”

“Don’t look so shocked,” you roll your eyes.

“Who are you and what did you do with y/n?” he runs up to you, inspecting your body from head to toe. “Who knew you had this side in you?”

“You can thank me for that,” Nana slides beside you, offering a bright smile.

After a little convincing, you managed to bribe Nana in coming out tonight too. Your main argument for making her go out too is that you needed someone to last the night with. Even though you are technically Taehyung’s date, he never stays out long and you didn’t want to be left alone with Hoseok and his friends. And you promised that all the drinks were on you, which made her agree in a heartbeat.

“I’m actually blown away,” Taehyung rubs his eyes.

You feel a bit of pride flare up inside of you; if your friends were already so blown away, you can only imagine the reactions from other people.

“You guys are so nice,” you smile before Taehyung makes it known that you all have to go before the party begins.

The three of you hop into his car as he drives to the place where Hoseok’s hosting his party. It’s at a local bar just down the street from school and when you get there, you see a huge sign with the words ‘Happy Birthday Hoseok’ in bold letters. Well, that’s one way to let everyone know. As Taehyung parks, you realize just how many people are here; birthday boy must’ve really invited everyone.

Walking inside the bar, Hoseok stands front and center and immediately greets you guys.

“Taehyung!” he excitedly says, a bright smile om his face. “Glad you could make it.”

The two of them shake hands before Taehyung wishes him a happy birthday and points to you, “You know y/n and Nana, right?”

“Of course,” Hoseok turns to you and immediately takes in your appearance. You notice his eyes widen at your dress before they meet your gaze. “Glad you guys could make it.”

You redden under his heated look as he reaches a hand out and you return the favor by extending your own too. Taehyung quickly suggests that you all take a picture together before the night gets too crazy and Nana forces you beside Hoseok. You give her a wide-eyed look, but she just smiles. You offer your phone to someone nearby and they tell you four to get into position.

The phone camera flashes while you offer your biggest smile. A few more flashes go off before the phone gets passed back in your direction. You swipe through the pictures, because one is simply not sufficient, and are pleasantly pleased with yourself. You have to admit it, you look pretty good.

“Damn, y/n!” Nana brings the attention to you and everyone begins to ask to see the pictures. But before Nana can pass your phone around, Hoseok tells you that he has to attend to the rest of his guests. At that, you quickly send everyone the pictures.

“I’ll catch you later?” he asks, and you realize he’s talking to you. Heat creeps up your face as you reply with a tentative sure and watch Hoseok walk away.

The moment he’s out of sight, Taehyung and Nana turn to you simultaneously saying that he definitely likes you. And while you’re flattered by the attention, you’re not interested. So you just brush your friends off and walk deeper into the bar. You order the three of you drinks and look at the pictures again.

“I think you should post the pictures,” Nana says sipping her drink.

You raise a brow, “Why?”

“Because you look good,” she talks like it’s the most obvious thing ever.

“Isn’t it a bit scandalous?”

“No?” Taehyung’s words come out like a question. “I’m posting one of these too.”

“Yeah but it’s normal for you to post stuff like this.” You honestly aren’t one to post suggestive pictures. Your feed is rather plain and simple. Also, you don’t party much either so might just look weird, or are you thinking way too much about this?

“Maybe it will elicit a reaction from that boyfriend of yours.”

Your ears perk up at Nana’s words. “I don’t think he even checks my social media…”

She raises a brow, “Girl, all men check their girls social accounts whether they like to admit it or not. Besides, he posted up pics with his boys earlier…why can’t you?”

She has a point. As the two of you were getting ready before, you scrolled through Jeongguk’s profile and saw that he posted a picture from last night. And it was the same pictures he was always posting—him and his friends with those damn red solo cups. If Jeongguk can post pictures of him at parties, why can’t you?

And at the end of the day, they are just pictures—completely harmless. You quickly scroll through the pictures again and pick the one that you look best in. After editing the picture and adding a witty caption, you press post. As you watch the page load, your heart races. Soon, a text bubble pops up signaling that the picture has been posted and you internally scream.

“Did you do it?” Nana asks, looking over your shoulder.

All you can do is nod and shove your phone away from you. “Can we just forget I did that?”

Taehyung and Nana don’t need to be told twice before ordering a round of shots for you, which you down without a fight.

***

As the night progresses, you actually do forget that you posted the picture.

With your phone on silent and your body a little more than slightly buzzed, you let the music and atmosphere of the bar take you away. By this point, you aren’t sure what time it is or where Taehyung went. You’re betting that he already left, but you’re too absentminded to really care right now. Beside you is Nana, but she’s rather preoccupied with a guy.

You try to grab her attention, to let her know that you need to run to the bathroom, but it’s fruitless so you just leave. In the bathroom, you push open a stall and let out a cry when your phone falls and narrowly misses the toilet. Thank god. Picking up the phone, you suddenly realize how many unread messages and missed phones you actually have…and they’re all from Jeongguk. You briefly run over the messages and see that he’s been leaving message after message for you to call him.

As if the ten missed calls weren’t enough.

Quickly doing your business, you run out of the bathroom and tell Nana that you need to go back to the apartment. But instead of the both of you leaving, she tells you that she’s more than likely not coming back tonight, and you catch the look in her eyes. Before calling an Uber back, you make her promise to text you and then you’re off.

The moment you step through the threshold of your place, you call him. And surprisingly enough, he answers on the first ring.

“Y/n.” As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve missed his voice.

“Hello to you, too,” you dismiss such defeating thoughts and try to remember your anger towards him.

On the other side of the phone, he sighs, “Where are you?”

“At home,” you tell him, kicking off your heels and walking into your bedroom.

“I see…” he says. “So, you’re not out at a party? I saw the picture you posted.”

You release a deep breath. So that’s what this phone call is about.

“Did you just call to chew me out?” you fall onto your bed. “Because if that’s the case, I don’t want to hear it.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Why the fuck do even you care?” you retort. “I see you partying every week too, and do I make a big deal out of it? No. You’re such a hypocrite.”

Jeongguk is quiet for a moment. He’s so quiet you almost think he’s hung up on you, but before you can say anything else, he asks, “Are you still at the party?”

You roll your eyes, “I told you I’m at home already.”

“Prove it,” he says.

You don’t even know what he’s asking for. How are you supposed to prove you were at your apartment? “What?”

“Skype me.” Oh.

“Isn’t it a little late,” you say, peering at the clock on your wall that reads a little after midnight. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Even though you’re angry at Jeongguk ninety-five percent of the time, that doesn’t mean you don’t care to know what goes on in his life. You know that he has practice every Saturday morning and if he doesn’t sleep, he’ll be a cranky little baby.

“Practice is cancelled tomorrow.” It’s like he’s read your mind or something. And after much contemplating, you tell him you’ll skype him.

Grabbing your laptop from the floor, you can’t deny the anxious excitement you feel. You also can’t deny the fact that you miss Jeongguk desperately, even though he can be an asshole. It’s honestly been so long and you want nothing more than to see his face again. Logging onto your skype account, you click on his little icon and watch as the screen begins to make a call. As it loads and connects, you situate your laptop away from you.

And the moment Jeongguk appears on your screen, you feel an array of emotions. He’s in his room, you can tell from his blue pillows and the posters that line the wall behind him. A part of you wants to cry as dumb as it sounds; it just feels like you haven’t seen him in so long. Your eyes run over the softness of his features before meeting his piercing gaze.

“Hey,” you offer a half-smile.

“Hey.”

“So,” you clear your throat, “as you can see, I am at home…in my room.”

He nods, not looking away from you, “Sorry for doubting you. That picture…just really fucked me up.”

“Why?” you question, shifting your position.

“First of all, you look fucking amazing in that dress,” Jeongguk smirks and you remember that you’re still in Nana’s revealing dress, face heating up. “Second, that guy’s hand on your body was literally too much.”

You’re not sure what he’s talking about, so you look back at the picture and notice that Hoseok’s hand was wrapped rather tightly your waist. “I didn’t even realize.”

“Sure.”

“No, I’m serious,” you look back at Jeongguk. “I barely know the guy. It was his birthday tonight and Taehyung invited me.”

“And you still let him put his hands all over you?” he asks.

Why is he getting so angry about the picture? It was just a photo. Never in all the years you two have been together has he ever been like this. Is he jealous? You haven’t thought to pin him as the jealous type, but perhaps it’s finally showing.

“Are you jealous?” you narrow your eyes as his own widen.

“Of course not,” he brushes you off. “I just don’t like it when guys put their hands all over other people’s girlfriends.”

He’s totally jealous and your heart begins to warm at his words. “I’m your girlfriend?”

You’re teasing him and he doesn’t seem to catch on. “Are you not?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Doesn’t really seem like it sometimes. I mean, you never call me. Aren’t people supposed to call their girlfriends? And I just feel neglected, you know? Like you’re living a completely different life from me—like we’re not even dating.”

“I’m sorry,” he immediately says, wetting his bottom lip. “I just—I’ve gotten caught up with life lately. I mean it when I say I’m going to call, because I really want to, but it doesn’t always happen.”

You’re a bit shocked at his apologetic confession because you were not expecting it. Jeongguk is not usually the one in your relationship to cave in first; you’re usually the one who comes running to him. Maybe he does still care about you in the same way he did all those years ago.

“You’re sorry?” you ask. “Prove it.”

His eyebrows raise at your repeated phrase. “What?”

“If you’re so sorry…show me.”

Where these words are coming from, you literally have no idea. While you cave in first, Jeongguk is way more forward about his intentions. It’s like your roles have switched and you strangely love it. His eyes stare into yours with so much intensity, it almost feels like he’s right here with you and not just on your laptop screen.

You wait for him to say something—do something; the anticipation of his actions have you squirming on your bed.

“Take off the dress,” he suddenly says, voice much lower than before.

Your insides clench as you raise your body to kneel on the bed and unzip the dress, letting it fall into a pile around your knees. Jeongguk lets out a deep breath as he takes in your smooth skin, body only covered by your flimsy underwear.

“I couldn’t wear a bra with the dress,” you smile at his reaction.

“Fuck, y/n,” he swears. “Take off the underwear and sit back on the bed. I want to see you.”

You oblige and fling your last item of clothing onto the floor. You’re about to do as Jeongguk wishes and lay back, but you stop. “I want to see you, too.”

His eyes darken as he pushes his laptop forward to reveal more of himself and peels the white t-shirt off his body. Your eyes drink in the muscles that adorns his body—god, it’s been so long since you’ve seen him like this. You’ve missed this all terribly. After chucking his skirt to the side, he pushes the waistband of his sweats down and reveals his already hard cock.

“Commando?” you smile, body heating up with desire. As you say this, he begins to slowly stroke himself and you swear that nothing hotter has ever graced your eyes.

“Lay back for me baby,” he whispers, and you follow his instructions, leaning back onto your headboard so you can still see him. “Touch that pretty pussy of yours for me.”

And you begin touching yourself, hands rubbing your sensitive clit. The first touch already has you moaning Jeongguk’s name. Fuck; you wish he was here with you right now. You wish it was him whose hands were touching you instead of your own. So you imagine his hands on your body instead and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head.

“It feels so good,” you moan, watching your boyfriend as he moves his hand up and down his hard shaft. You can see the bit of pre-cum that has already leaked out of his head and you want nothing more than to lick it off. “Jeongguk…”

“You’re so hot,” he forces through clenched teeth. “Stick a finger inside baby. I want to see you fuck yourself.”

You do—you stick one and then another, pretending Jeongguk is actually entering you instead of your fingers. You start with a steady rhythm, slowly moving in and out before going a little faster. Jeongguk begins to match his pace with you and you feel yourself getting close. Your hips begin to buck up into your hands and your palm rubs against your sweet spot.

Sweat begins to bead along your forehead and you use your other hand to rub little circles into your clit again. “I’m so close.”

Jeongguk groans at the image he’s seeing, you desperate for relief. “Cum for me baby; I need you to cum, okay?”

And you can’t help it, you cry as your orgasm hits. It sends waves of pleasure throughout your body, causing your legs to shake. The entire time you ride the high, you’re saying Jeongguk’s name and it isn’t long before his own orgasm arrives. You watch as his face contorts, brows furrowed together and mouth slightly parted, and his load shoots onto his abdomen.

His dark hair is drenched in sweat, and chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. Jeongguk brushes his hair back and grabs his discarded t-shirt to wipe himself. You sit back up on the bed after you catch your own breath and brush your hair to the side.

“Thanks for that,” you tell him, and he laughs.

“Thank you, too,” Jeongguk smiles. “I needed that.”

“Same,” your eyes bore into his and silence passes between the two of you. You know this moment doesn’t change much; there is still a lot of work that needs to be done in your relationship. However, what you do know is that Jeongguk still cares and that give you hope. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you more.”

[100layersofdaddyissues]

angel - Chapter 1 (reupload)

hi so ive only just noticed this morning that the first chapter of angel was deleted somehow so here is the re-upload for anyone whose been looking for it. 

warnings: smut, drug use 

word count: 4.2K

  No one could tell you how you should feel. And although so many had tried, none had been able to successfully warn you of the danger that came with being involved with Maxwell Lord. It was well known that the man ruled over everything the light touched. That power is what attracted you to him in the first place. He was strong and competent (for the most part) and above all, he was rich. Initially, that’s really all that mattered to you. You’d never been the type of young woman to show a romantic interest in the people you dated.Iit didn’t matter whether they were attractive or nice, just so long as they had connections and enough cash to spare. Then you were theirs for as long as you could stand them.

     Truth be told, you’d never really considered Max a target; it’s no secret there was an age gap there. And admittedly, you thought he would be the type to want to settle down and get married soon. That truly did not interest you in the slightest. Your story with Maxwell began like any other of your “relationships”, you just happened to be in his vicinity on a fateful day. In the dark corner of a dingy club, just on the outskirts of the downtown red light district. You didn’t have any hope of a fruitful encounter. It wasn’t the most high class so you had of course assumed that no one of monetary worth would be lurking in this place. With a sticky floor and bartenders that, for a few dollars more, would look the other way when it came to what went into pretty girls drinks. Just breathing the air in this postcode would taint one’s reputation. 

As you stood in your dark corner you observed the girls in their mini skirts, shaking their ass in hopes of some free drinks, or maybe a reason not to have to go home that night., h There he was, Maxwell Lord himself. It surprised you to find him staring you dead in the eyes. You let your eyes shamelessly drag down his form. Standing tall in a perfectly tailored powder blue suit with his blonde hair slicked back as it always was. His height and broad stature towered above the skinny men who haunted this club with their presence. All of them wishing to be akin to Mick Jagger or Robert Plant, though the only resemblance was the big hair and the ominous white powder that they had carelessly neglected to wipe off their noses. Maxwell was staring at you with some sort of intent in his eyes.

     You held his gaze for a moment longer, observing the man in his glory, you turned away your head. Before you could see him start to make his way to you,  you returned your eyes to their previous spot. He was gone.Your eyes darted back and forth searching for where he had disappeared, when a breathy voice made its way into your ear.

      “Are you looking for someone, doll?”

  It was no louder than a whisper, it could barely be heard over the pounding of Michael Sembello’s Maniac, but it was so distinguished you didn’t even have to turn your head to know where or who it came from. And yet when you did, you still felt surprised seeing him stand there, a sultry glint in his eyes.  ”Why did he come to speak to you?” you wondered.

      “Well I was, but it seems like he found me before I found him.” You said with what you had hoped sounded like seduction dripping from your voice.

  “Have you got a name? Or should I just call you angel, because from where I’m standing that’s really the only name that would honour someone as breathtaking as you.” 

 Logically, you knew he was coming onto you. You’d been club hopping all night, cocaine and ecstasy mixed with sweat dripping from your pores, you knew he couldn’t be serious in thinking you looked that good. But you can’t help but have been allured to his reputation as a powerful business man, and even more powerful lover.

      “My name is Y/N but if you’d like to call me Angel that’s perfectly fine with me.”

 “Well Y/N it’s a pleasure to meet someone as beautiful as you, I’m Ma- “

 “Mr. Lord, trust me, I am well aware of who you are. I don’t think anyone in here wouldn’t know you, except maybe him.” you say pointing to the old man who clearly misinterpreted the vibe of the club walking in, seeing as he was sitting at the bar with his head on the counter almost definitely asleep.

 “You make an excellent point, maybe someone should probably try waking him up, it's almost concerning.” He says with a deep chuckle, as you join in giggling with him.

 “I’m going to reason with you here Y/N. I’m very bored and you’re very beautiful. So would you like to leave with me? I’ve got an apartment just a block away.You can come back with me, and maybe keep me company?” 

 As he spoke, Maxwell moved his face closer to you until his face was merely an inch or so from your face. You barely needed to nod before he grabbed your hand leading you out of the club, into the cold of the night.

     Within minutes you were standing out the front of his apartment building. Beginning to feel the cool air tint your skin a shade of purple, you can't imagine you would have been very attractive. The heat of the lobby hit you as the doorman greeted you, opening the door and telling ‘Mr Lord’ to have an excellent morning, huh, morning, you hadn’t even considered that you’d be been out that long, but alas looking at the big grandfather clock at the back of the lobby you read 4:20.

     When approaching the elevator, you saw Maxwell slightly flick his head and the attendant left the small space with a smile. You assumed it was a usual occurrence for him to not question why Maxwell was telling him to leave, although you didn’t doubt you were the first person for him to be bringing back to his home. You were standing in the elevator quite awkwardly while Maxwell pushed the number of his floor in. 135. You were suddenly grateful that you lacked a fear of heights, as you pondered whether that was a rational fear to have or not, Maxwell was once again very close to your face.

      “I know I’ve already told you quite a few times tonight, but you are absolutely stunning, can I kiss you?” His tone was surprisingly sincere as he spoke in a hushed tone.

      “I never really pegged you as the asking type Maxwell.” You said mischievously thinking it would lighten the mood. 

 But he stayed serious as he said “just because I’m a dick doesn’t mean your consent isn’t important to me” 

 You were stunned. But the moment you said yes, his demeanour changed and he smashed his lips to yours. It was rough and passionate and everything you’d expected in the beginning. Hot and fiery, but definitely careless. He was dominating you already, and you knew in that moment that you were in for a rough night.

     The elevator door opened with a light ding, revealing what looked like a mansion. It was easily at least 30 times bigger than your own apartment. You walked around with amazement spread across your face,  unable to contain your awe of the beauty that is this place. Your eyes trailed around the room and suddenly landed on the view of the city, you walked toward the floor to ceiling windows in what you assumed to be the living room. 

“This is absolutely incredible Max!  I can’t believe you live in a place like this!” you said with amazement and wonderment dripping from your voice.

      “Actually I don’t live here, I just have this place for when I’m going clubbing and can’t be bothered calling my driver to take me home. I live in the middle of the city, just over there.” Max said as he came up behind you to point at the tallest building in the skyline. 

 Your eyes widened in wonder and amusement, as he started to kiss your neck

  “Well maybe I could see that place sometime then?” 

 He abruptly stopped kissing you. 

  “No, no one goes there but family, I don’t take anyone to my home. You understand?”

 Though it kind of stung that he was so abrupt about it, you nodded in understanding. You didn’t care enough to be hurt that he didn’t want to show you his home, as far as you were concerned you’d never see this place again either. This was a one night stand, you didn’t care whether it happened again or not.

     With that, he spun you around and smashed his lips against yours with such force you felt his teeth snag your bottom lip without even realising. You stumbled over your feet as Maxwell pulled you from the wall. He started pushing you in what you could only assume was the direction of the bedroom. He reached behind you and fumbled with the door knob to push you through what you would discover tomorrow to be an ornate archway. When your legs hit the back of the bed, he pushed you off him and stood so tall over you, so dominating in stance. Your mouth and pussy began to water with anticipation. There was a promise of an unforgettable time that gleamed in his lust-blown eyes. His hair was a mess as he took his suit jacket off and his tie, rolling his sleeves up he looked the image of sex. As he grabbed your legs to pull you to the edge of the bed roughly, he locked eyes with yours. Keeping his gaze, you felt him trace a path that led up your legs, to your thighs, to your hips, where he slowly dragged your lace underwear down and promptly pocketed it. You weren’t going to ask for them back; you wanted him to remember you.

  “Sit up, take your dress off, and lay back down at the edge of the bed” his tone was domineering and forceful, you did exactly as you were told. 

 As he watched you with attentive eyes, he knelt down next to the bed as you lay back down, he put his hands around the back of your thighs and pulled you so close that his nose brushed against your clitoris. He was so close you could feel his breath and you were so aroused that it was already stimulating you just to feel those tiny puffs of air.

      You began squirming in place, whining “Maxwell, please, I’m begging you to do something!” 

 “I do so love a needy baby girl, but the more you beg, the more I’m going to torture you doll.” 

 His voice was seductive, but you knew his threat was anything but; he meant business. You wished with all your might that there would be another opportunity where you could test his threat, but right now you needed an orgasm and you needed it quick. So you did what you did best: Be a Good Little Girl. So you shut your mouth and nodded your head. 

 “No no angel, I want to hear your words. What do you have to say for yourself? Hmm?” 

 “I’m sorry I’ll be quiet and I wont whine, sir”

      “Sir? You learn quickly, I might just have to keep you,” you couldn’t lie, you wish it didn’t excite you as much as it did to hear him say that he wanted to keep you. He was exactly your type, powerful and rich, you wanted to be kept by him.

 After what felt like an eternity, his mouth finally attached itself to you. He wasted no time going absolutely feral on your clit, licking and sucking and the slight bite here and there. It was absolute euphoria. He didn’t waste any time before shoving two fingers deep into your cunt. He curled them in just the right way for it to hit your spot, and you felt a jolt course through your body. You were kicking yourself for wasting time on the young socialites in the city who couldn’t eat pussy for shit; when it was clear the older they were, the more gained experience. This held exceptionally true with Max. Within minutes you could feel the familiar knot building in the pits of your stomach, and it was only moments before he was coaxing you to orgasm with his fingers while his mouth tried to tie a knot into your clit with his tongue. Never has a man made you come from any sort of sexual encounter. You were already shaking when his face raised itself from your pussy as he started kissing his way back up your body, you didn’t know how long you’d be able to last with him fucking you if his dick was as good as his mouth.

     “I’ve never had such a pretty thing like you react in such an explosive way to my mouth, are you just trying to stroke my ego angel?” his face was mere centimetres from yours as you heaved out heavy breaths just trying to compose yourself enough to speak actual words instead of loud moans and quiet whines.

  “No that was nothing short of incredible. I’m not the type of woman to fake it. That was fucking incredible, I’ve never had an experience like that that wasn’t caused by my own hand.” 

 He chuckled lowly before saying, “well now I know you’re just trying to inflate me. You think that was good just you wait doll. You’ve got a long morning ahead of you.” And you didn’t doubt it.

 Beginning to reach down, you paused halfway to silently ask for permission to touch him. He said nothing but simply grabbed your hand to place on his chest, letting you explore whatever and wherever you wanted. You traced muscles and planes of skin that would have caused Micheangelo to swoon, himself. Lower and lower you ventured, until you met the border between his pants and the rest of him. Silently and instinctively, you looked up at him and asked for permission again.

  “Go on Baby Doll, take it off.” 

You woke up groggy that afternoon, you turned over to see the bed, empty, though you weren’t surprised, you were however surprised to see yourself still at the apartment, usually you left immediately after the person fell asleep, but here you were bundled up under warm covers being weighed down by the doona struggling to find your way out. You walked your way around the apartment, trying to find the bathroom, when you happened upon Max, sitting in a big sofa chair out on his balcony smoking a cigarette, only in his suit pants from the night before, again this was something that surprised you, oud never thought Maxwell to be someone who waits around for his encounters to wake, you had him pegged as someone who would just leave a  note and never see the person again.

           “good morning angel, how did you sleep?” you hadn’t even realised he knew you were awake, he hadn’t turned to see you, you stuttered for a moment before saying, “after last night I’m surprised I even woke up before tomorrow, I’ve never been that worn out after sex.” Your voice was quiet, almost timid, you weren’t sure why, you were never intimidated by men usually. But when they make you orgasm; they have a power you’ve never encountered before.

           “I’m going to be honest here darling, I’m not here for a relationship and if I was I wouldn’t have tried finding one in that bar but that pussy was magic and I’m not very willing to let it go just yet, so I have a proposition for you. You’re a beautiful young woman, I’d like to see you again, whenever I want, I'll take your number and I will call you. Do you have a job that will hinder you from coming at any time of day?” His tone made you feel like you were one of his business partners, like he was making a transaction.

       ��   “I work in marketing at Halo Corp, so I would assume that would be a hindrance”

           “you work at Halo Corp? the competition to my own business? Run by Henry Giorgio? Yeah that won’t do, you work in marketing you said?” you nodded meekly as he walked towards his phone, as he dialled in a number and greeted someone called Grace. Catching the phrases “fire him,” “I don’t care” “no I have a replacement already” and then he hung up. “there you go Doll, now call Henry tell him you have a new job, you’re working for me” you were stunned, was he doing this just to have you close so that you could service him whenever? Of course, he was. You wondered how many people worked for Maxwell merely for his convenience. You assumed the “Grace” he spoke to was definitely one of his “conveniences” but he, you weren’t going to complain about the opportunity to work in the biggest company in the city.

           “I’ll get on that when I get home, I don’t know the number for my boss, but thank you for the opportunity that company fucking sucks” you said with amusement in your voice, you really did hate working at Halo, there was no respect from higher ups for the people who actually ran their company.

           “right well i'll let you go do that now, I have to go to lunch with an associate, did you need a ride home?” “oh no it's okay I could walk or take a cab” you say not wanting to burden him, well or let him know where you lived.

           “nonsense I’m calling my driver and we’ll drop you off on the way in, you my want to get dressed though, I don’t think you’d want anyone to see you wrapped up in a sheet on the street” you looked down at yourself and agreed before heading to the bedroom to retrieve your clothes from the night before.

           When Max said he would call his driver for some reason you expected a limousine to pull up, but yet here you were standing on the curb in front of a 1974 Rolls Royce silver shadow, you were in awe. You’d barely noticed that Max was pushing you slightly towards the opened door as you stood and started at the beautiful car, “come on doll, it's just a car you’ll see plenty lets go'' you blushed In slight embarrassment at how easily you he could tell you were in awe and how he could care less about the car he drove in, though you suspect had never driven it himself.

           On the way to your apartment Max really only spoke on the car phone, planning something more important than you could comprehend, when he wasn’t on the phone he was asking about you, nothing interesting or caring, like your hobbies or your family, no he was asking for your full name and social security number, setting up your employee business account with Lord Industries.

           Soon the car was pulling to a stop outside of your apartment building, you looked up at it from the window of the car, the building was falling apart, the walls were cracking and foundations were sinking, many of the windows had bars on them, the fire escapes that went down the side of the building were all rusted in place and no longer usable. You looked back at max who was staring out the window with a furrow in his brow, his face looked unusually stern and still, he looked down at you with concern in his eyes, “surely you don’t live here? Not while working for Halo?” he said with concern laced in his voice, you just laughed at his insinuation that working for halo would have any bearing on where you lived. “yeah this is where I live, it’s really all I can afford to be honest with you, Halo doesn’t pay that well at all, most of the money we make goes to Henry and his associates.”

           “nope that’s not gonna work, come on, take me to your apartment, Darius keep the car running we're going to my apartment on west 22nd Miss Y/L/N won’t be staying here.”

“wait what do you mean I won’t be staying here?” you said in absolute confusion=on, it didn’t make sense to you why he would be making you leave. “Well it’s clearly not safe here and it wouldn’t rest well on my conscience if I left here with you staying, come on, get your essentials for the night and then I’ll have Darius come pick you up tomorrow morning to move the rest of your things, you’re not staying here.”

“No really it's too much for you to lend me one of your homes” you tried to argue. 

“This is not only for your safety but for mine, if i come to you needing your services I can't be seen here nor can i risk being around anyone who lives here” 

           You felt slightly offended at the way he spoke about the people who lived here, you lived here, this had been your home for months but you really couldn’t argue with him, you didn’t know how, you didn’t really want to, the people who lived here were a horrible crowd and if Maxwell Lord was offering you one of his apartments to stay in then you take the offer. You grabbed your toiletries, some clothes for tomorrow and pyjamas and you back out the door before you could even check for your pack of cigarettes, Max telling you that he’ll buy you more if you left now. He was in a rush clearly.

           Darius dropped max off first, with a polite nod and a ‘ill see you soon’ he left out the door of the car into the restaurant “La Chambre Du Salaud” French is always fancy. You sat silent in the backseat, not really knowing the etiquette as one of Max’s girls.

           “Miss, would you like some dinner? Max is never good at feeding himself and I doubt he fed you, he doesn’t keep any food in his other apartments.” The driver, Darius, spoke up from the front seat. Now that you thought about it you were starving, absolutely fanging. “I would love that, but I wouldn’t want to be a burden.” You said quietly, you truly didn’t want to come off as a burden. “nonsense if Max is letting you stay in one of his houses, I’m sure he would be okay with you having a meal. We’ll stop wherever you like.” You agreed to dinner at McDonalds, not wanting to put Darius out, he asked you a few things about your family and what you’re doing in the big city while you ate, “well originally I’m from Pennsylvania but there’s nothing going on down there, no one can make a name of themselves there, especially not from my small town, I wanted to be someone, and when I realised that that was a pipe dream and I realised I couldn’t go back, not couldn’t really, more so wouldn’t, I’ve seen the bright lights, I want to stay in the concrete towers forever, I decided that working for a good corporation would let me stay for as long as I was working well.” It was true, mostly, you did sleep your way up at Halo, but you did work hard for some of those promotions, no one gets to the head of anything from just sucking dick.

           “Mr Lord isn’t the biggest fan of that halo company you might have shown him a real good time last night, oh don’t blush miss I’m his driver I’ve seen far worse in the back of my cars.” He was right, you were redder than a rose, you could feel the heat spread across your cheeks, you weren’t sure why, you had slept with many people, and been caught with a fair few, maybe it was the fact that Darius was so distinguished, he felt trustworthy and for some reason you didn’t want him to think badly of you. “Come on Miss, we should get you back, you should sleep or at least rest. I’m sure Mr Lord did quite the number on you, I'll be back to pick you up in the morning, around 10 although you can call me earlier if you’d like.”

           After getting to the apartment you noticed that Darius was right, no food, honestly it looked like no one had ever been in there before, it was so pristine it was almost like a hotel, you wondered how many women had brought here but you decided dwelling on it didn’t really mattered, you didn’t really care anyway.

           You set up what little clothes you had brought in the closet, the toothbrush in the bathroom and then you found your way to bed. 

@innerstrawberrypolice​

[calciferous-kelpie]

Breaking Young Artists ft. Kirby

So I woke up today at 8AM (which is highly unlike me) with the extreme urge to write about my shitty experiences as a young creator online. I’ve never really talked about this with anyone before, at least not to the extent that I’m going to now. But yeah. Here we go. Yay.

Today we’re talking about the Kirby fandom, but it’s okay if you don’t know shit about Kirby because we’re actually talking about fandom gatekeeping more than anything.

Most of you probably didn’t know I was into the Kirby franchise at one point, and that’s completely intentional. I’ve put that part of my life far behind me, and let me tell you, I don’t look back on it with much fondness, despite the fact that I was in the fandom for years.

Here’s one of the many reasons why!

This is JP. My Kirby fan character from forbidden days no longer spoken of.

“Wait, so JP? Like… Jigglypuff?”

Yes.

“And this was your Kirby fan character?”

Yes.

“Oh.”

Yes.

My lack of creativity should be apparent to anyone who looks at this character. JP’s creation is lazy and self-indulgent. She is clearly the Pokemon Jigglypuff with some minor redesigns who was then shoved into the Kirby universe for no good reason.

When I first made her, I had no real intention of explaining why she was basically just Jigglypuff, but as I continued to develop her, I began to consider what it would be like to explain her appearance—to create a story where Pokemon and Kirby both existed together on, like, different planets in a vast universe. She was going to be half Jigglypuff and half… whateverthefuck you want to call Kirby’s species.

You can still find art of her buried deep in my DeviantArt gallery (as well as 21 chapters of a story I will never, ever complete), but I don’t talk about her anymore. And this is why.

It all happened back around 2010-2012, which meant I was about 12-14 at the time. This was back when DeviantArt was still the main hub for all artists (lmao) and tumblr was still kind of new on the scene. A cool new trend popping up in fandom spaces at this time was the creation of “your oc is terrible” tumblr blogs, which—as the term implies—existed simply to make fun of artists who had crappy characters. They would reupload artists’ works and laugh at how lame or unoriginal their designs were.

These people were trend-setters, making fun of cringe character designs before “cringe” was even a word used to describe them. And before you fall for the fun hipster wording here: no, this did not make them admirable. They were, in fact, assholes.

Some of these blogs liked to pretend they “poked fun” in the spirit of “constructive criticism” but very few of these people actually offered anything outside of insults. (Besides, even if their feedback had been constructive, none of these artists whose work they’d reuploaded had asked for this and probably should have just been left alone.)

You can probably see where I’m going with all of this. My art of JP was uploaded to a couple of these “crappy oc” blogs, and I was ridiculed for having dared to create a thing.

I discovered my art had been taken from my DeviantArt gallery and uploaded to tumblr (a site I didn’t even have an account on at the time) without my knowledge. My signature had been blocked out (to protect my privacy I guess??? lmfao) and my work had been openly mocked for the enjoyment of an audience. People complained about my shitty character, saying that she was literally just Jigglypuff dressed up to look like an OC. They rolled their eyes at her name and her appearance. And in no uncertain terms, I was deemed a bad artist and a bad member of fandom—a warning to other new artists of what to never be.

I wasn’t told any of this to my face, of course, which I guess was supposed to be a blessing. Rather, I had the lovely privilege of discovering that people were mocking me behind my back for their own satisfaction. It could have even been one of my friends who had brought my work up for mockery. I’ll never know.

But let me tell you, there’s not a lot that’s more discouraging than learning people are ridiculing you just out of earshot.

I wish I had had the foresight to take screenshots of the posts these people made. To document the insults and the way I was treated when I asked them to take my art down from their blog. Unfortunately, I don’t have that. I was young and ashamed and just wanted the experience to be over with. But you know what? The receipts don’t matter, anyway.

I don’t need to prove that I didn’t deserve that treatment.

Today, I acknowledge that my character was lame and kind of uncreative. But that certainly doesn’t mean that the people who made fun of me were in the right. I had never claimed to be a brilliant character creator—some great example of unique OCs and unparalleled storytelling. And hell, even if I had done that, it wouldn’t have given anyone the right to stomp on my imagination the way these people did. I was just a kid.

It’s 2021 now. I’m nearly 23 years old, and it’s been about a decade since this happened to me. I haven’t thought about this horrible event in detail for some time, but I need you to understand that even when I’m not actively thinking about this, my life as an artist is affected by it every day.

I’m still ashamed to share much of anything about my characters. I still worry constantly that I’m being cringey, self-indulgent, or a “bad artist.” Some days I manage to create with beautiful, reckless abandon, but then when the dreaming ends, I look back on what I’ve created and fuss, and worry, and doubt. (Ever wonder why you rarely see my work?)

I know the culture around OCs online has improved in a lot of ways since the 2010’s, but I still want to put this message out there. I want everyone to know why this sort of thing isn’t okay. I want my history to be documented so that maybe some new, excited artist doesn’t have to go through what I did.

TL;DR:

Never make fun of someone for having an uncreative or “cringey” character. It’s crappy to do to any artist of any age, but especially if you do this to a kid of all people—a young artist who is just learning the ropes and learning to be creative. This shit sticks with a person, and it can and will inhibit their ability to create amazing things in the future. If you put down an artist for being bad at design or being cringey, you are an awful person.

And to the people responsible for putting my dumbass little timmy’s-first-OC on tumblr blogs to be sneered at and mocked, I mean this will all my heart:

Fuck you! :)