#should the shoulder things be if a different colour or is it just the frills that need change of colour? the frills feel a bit too same-y | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wickedyan · 4 years ago

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Ummm... can I just say how much I love your levi works?? ❤❤❤ i was wondering if you could make another yandere levi victorian arranged marriage? Like it dosent have to be victorian. But can you make it so that its a continuation of your first part ??? thanksss

Part 2 of this

Character: Levi Ackerman, Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan

Warnings: Dubcon, Noncon, Yandere, rough smut.

A/N: I now know a lot about the Victorian era. What people wore in the daytime, in the evening, to bed… and their underwear. Specifically, how to take off the underwear… if you get what I mean ;)

On another note, woo! I finally completed this work! I’ve been working on it for over a week nonstop... hehe. I hope you all enjoy it! (This is the last part to this, I won’t be writing any more for it.)

Due to its length... and content, it’ll be placed under a cut.

His house didn’t feel like a house. Or a home. More like a castle. The gardens were large and meticulously well kept, with fantastical flowers and hedges that you only heard about in fairy tales. The gates to the estate were tall, with sharp-pointed tops and scary wires. It would ensure no unwanted guests could get in… and that no one that wished to leave without permission could get out.

The house itself was five times larger than your old home, and you could count at least twenty windows on the front side of the house.

Your long skirt dragged along the concrete paths, heels clicking in tandem with your new husband’s dress shoes. His arm was entwined with your own, having pulled you close to him, shoulders rubbing together with each step.

You clutched at your skirt as you ascended the stairs to the front door of your new prison. Servants opened the doors wide for the two of you, and you were hit with the fresh scents of lemongrass and ginger.

The entryway was sparsely decorated, a deep red rug centred on the floor with golden tassels fluffing the edges. A wooden table with gorgeous floral vases that you knew costed more than the dress and shoes you wore combined, with fresh red roses that were mid-bloom. The walls painted a simple beige colour and the roof was an odd pattern of mahogany wood with various animals carved into them. Old paintings lined the walls, you didn’t recognise any of the figures, but you recognised the cold eyes identical to Levi’s. His mother.

Levi wasted no time pulling you through the entryway and through identical hallways, up squeaky mahogany staircases and into what seemed like his private bedroom. He pulled free from your arm, addressing a maid and ordering her to have you cleaned up and redressed with a grumble of “and burn that thing when you’re finished” …you couldn’t help but be offended, it was the fanciest dress you owned.

A kind-looking woman pulled you into an en-suite bathroom that connected to his bedroom. It was large, with a marble counter and basin, and a large bathtub with a shelf full of essential oils and fragrances. The bathwater was poured in, heated to a high temperature. You watched the steam coming off the water, it would be a while before the water was comfortable. The maid left you to undress, and you took your time. Slowly untying the shawl around your shoulders, you unceremoniously dropped it to the floor. Your shoes and stockings were next. Then the dress itself. There was a full-length mirror in the corner of the room.

You stood in front of the mirror, eyes skimming over your body. You weren’t skinny, but you weren’t overweight. Your parents worked hard to put food on the table for you, but you bet Levi barely had to lift a finger. You eyed your protruding hip bones, gaunt collarbones. You weren’t skinny… but you could stand to gain a few kilos.

The water stung your sensitive skin as you sunk into the bath, letting the water rise until only your head sat above the water. The cuts on your knees burned. Taking a deep breath, you submerged yourself, holding your breath as you wet your hair.

In only a few hours, you would lose your virginity. Your new husband would expect sex from you, and you would have no reason to deny him. Maybe you could tell him you weren’t feeling up to it… but Levi wasn’t stupid, he would see through your lies easily. You couldn’t help but wonder… would it be good…? Would you enjoy yourself?

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, nervous energy spreading throughout your shaking extremities.

Reaching for the soap, you made quick work of lathering it over your body, making sure to leave no spot untouched. He seemed to have special soap for your hair, it smelled of lavender.

Before you left the bath, you let yourself soak just a little longer. Until the water had cooled and your skin was pruney.

Fresh clothes had been left on the bed for you, you looked over them while you finished towel-drying your hair. It was evening, so you had been left an evening gown. It was much fancier than anything you had ever owned before. You almost felt wrong for wearing it. But you couldn’t deny its comfort, minus the corset that required help from several maids to tighten.

The dress was gorgeous. It was on off the shoulder neckline with long cream-coloured frilled lace. It was a peach colour, with large bows holding up more lace along the bottom of the gown. The number of petticoats and underskirts had your body hot, with a natural red flush to your cheeks and shoulders. The maids fawned over you, braiding your hair and applying cherry juice to your lips.

It was the prettiest you had ever looked, but the sour taste in your mouth wouldn’t leave. The maids, although just following orders, were dressing you up to have sex with their boss. It wasn’t so sweet when you put it in those words, but it was the truth of the situation.

You wondered if he wanted to bed you to show dominance over you. Maybe it was to show others that you belonged to him, he was the possessive type and he had arranged your marriage out of that sick idea. Maybe he wanted to impregnate you, really show the other nobles that you were his. Have you running around taking care of your children and speaking only when spoken to, like some little trophy wife.

Maybe he truly desired you.

You wanted more out of life. But he had stolen that chance from you. He had you right where he wanted you, stuck, locked away in his home and you couldn’t do anything about it. It was sickening.

Soon enough, the maids decided they were finished. And you were ushered down the stairs, where your husband was waiting for you at the dining table, a large feast laid out in front of him. Normally, the wife would sit on the opposite side of the husband, but he pulled you towards him, and you were sat in his lap.

Your face burned; an embarrassing show put on for the servants. But they made no comments on it. Smart of them, should they wish to keep their heads. You struggled in his lap, using the armrests to help push yourself out of his lap. His arms snaked around your waist, and with an iron grip, he pulled you back into his lap. No matter how much you squirmed, you couldn’t leave. You huffed a breath of annoyance, settling into his lap more comfortably.

You stiffened, feeling something hard beneath you. You wriggled, and Levi grunted hot air into the nape of your neck. Gooseflesh rose in its place.

“Careful, little lamb. Keep writhing on my lap like that and I won’t be able to control myself…” He murmured this low in your ear, a low growl on his tongue. Your body was hot, the pang of arousal that licked up your thighs was not helping.

Quickly you looked around, you were alone, so no one had heard him. You couldn’t help but feel relieved, if someone had heard that you wouldn’t be able to face them again… “You smell divine. I take it you enjoyed your bath?” He cut into the food, bringing a bite-sized amount up past you and to his lips.

You nodded in reply, “I did. Thank you.”

Although you couldn’t see it, you knew he was smirking.

He brought another square of food up on the fork, this time aiming for your mouth. He was going to feed you. Your lips parted, accepting the food. You chewed slowly, savouring the taste. It was delicious… you hadn’t ever tasted something with so much flavour. You couldn’t help but salivate. You usually ate things like mutton, bread and tea. This was something completely out of your league.

Dinner continued that way, alternating bites until you were both full.

Dread. It was Night. The sun nowhere to be seen. Levi had already returned to your shared bedroom. You sat in a room in front of the fireplace. It was warm, and from your position, you could see the moon from the window. You cherished this moment, the comfort and allowed yourself to forget what awaited you in his bedroom.

It was your bedroom too, now.

A maid came to collect you, and you were broken from your stupor.

When you arrived at the door to your room, it was closed. You could see the glow of candlelight from underneath the door. You rapped the door, waiting for an answer before stepping through.

Levi was in his nightclothes. He was on the bed, sitting up against the headboard with a book in his hands. Laying on top of the covers. The candlelight flickered as you shut the door behind you. He didn’t lift his eyes from his book, flicking over the page with a hum. You made quick work of changing into your own nightgown, grunting as you loosened the corset with only a little struggle.

You could feel his eyes gliding over your exposed shoulder blades and flitting down with the slide of your dress as it fell to the floor. Turning around, catching him in the act. But he didn’t look away when you turned. He continued staring unashamedly. Daring you to say something, as though a man couldn’t admire his wife.

When you crawled into bed beside him, you were almost convinced he had forgotten about his heated promise to you. Almost. He lifted an arm, inviting you into his space. Ignoring it made no difference because he pulled you into his side. Your head resting on his chest, one arm holding his book and the other stroking through your hair, curling it behind your ear. It was comfortable, domestic.

Levi smelled good. Was it some soap or essential oils? Perhaps a special cologne? What was the scent specifically? You couldn’t tell, but it had you breathing deeply, hoping to intake more and more of that pleasant smell.

He had reached the end of his page but instead of turning it as he had the past several pages, he closed the book. It was placed in its spot in his bedside draw. His hand rested on his stomach. Your palms were sweating, fingers twitching wildly. All through this, his other hand didn’t stop stroking your hair.

Until it moved, sliding under your jaw and tilting your face upwards toward his own. His hand stayed there, cradling your face. He took a moment to meet your eyes. His pupils blown wide, eyelids heavy and lips parted.

His lips met yours.

You gasped and Levi used this to slide his tongue past your lips. His tongue rolled over your teeth and tongue, exploring your mouth. It was warm and wet and practised. He nipped at your lips, licking over them in silent apology at your sharp intake of breath. How was he so good at this? He grunts, but you’re lost in the kiss. Your eyes were closed, hands reaching for his shirt to pull him closer, hot skin touching his, mewling and leaning into him.

That scent was back again, but he tastes like whisky and mint and maybe you should have pulled away, maybe it should’ve been gross, but it just wasn’t. His lips were firm but gentle, his tongue teasing and slow. His teeth dug into your lip, but his tongue was always quick to soothe the mark.

Levi pulled back with a groan, a lewd string of saliva connected you. He leaned in, sucking it up lewdly. “You taste better than I imagined.”

Sliding around the back of your head and into your hair, his hand pulled hard and smashed your lips together once more. Heat floods your thighs, you rub your legs together to create some kind of friction.

“Oh… Sir-Levi…” you breathe out between pants and sighs.

He’s on top of you, pushing you down and his legs between your thighs. Calloused hands roam your body leaving trails of heat behind them. Then he’s pulling open the buttons of your nightgown and pressing kisses down your neck. He lingers on a particular spot on your neck, harder kisses until he’s licking hot, wet stripes along your throat. He blows cool air over it, chuckling as your nipples harden amongst the goosebumps on your chest. His groin is grinding over your hips, fingers digging into the fat of your hips and squeezing so harshly you know it’s going to leave marks.

Teeth scrape over your collarbones and it has you squeaking out a high-pitched moan. You’re writhing under his burning touch, teeth biting so hard into your lip you can taste blood.

He pulls open the rest of your nightgown, exposing your chest to the cool night air. His lips are enclosing the hardened bud before you have a chance to be embarrassed. He sucks it into his mouth, circling it with his tongue and tugging with his teeth and it sends arousal straight to your core. His other hand is groping your other breast and you can feel the desperation in his touch. Your fingers rake through his raven locks, scraping against his scalp and pulling it, not knowing if it’s because it’s too much or because you have an inclination that he would like it.

A wet ‘pop’ is heard as he pulls off your nipple and moves to the other one to give it the same attention. Before he does, he kisses your sternum. His hungry eyes, wicked with desire, burn into your own. He takes pleasure seeing you so fucked out and he had barely started. “God, you’re beautiful…” He grins, he has you right where he wants you. A predator looming darkly over its prey. But this was the best part of the hunt. His reward.

“You belong to me now… you know that now, don’t you, y/n?” You nod, at his mercy.

He kisses the flesh of your bust, sucking the supple skin into his mouth and biting down. Hard. You cried out in pain, but he’s quick to move on, repeating the action and leaving deep purple marks all over your tits, moving back up to leave the same marks in more visible places. You shake your head, pushing at his shoulders. But he pushes back into you, you didn’t realise how strong he was.

“No- I… Marks. No…” You manage to speak amongst sighs. He snickers into your throat, the vibrations only making the sensations all the more pleasurable. He ignores your words, biting harder to show he heard you.

His hands ghost the length of your thighs, pushing the bottom of your nightgown up over your hips. Fingertips moved deftly, swiftly untying the strings keeping the front of your underwear together. He was quick to pull the last of the clothing hiding your body from his greedy eyes. You felt vulnerable, having your most intimate parts on display for the man. You squeezed your thighs together, or at least the best you could with him between them.

Strong arms held your thighs apart. He leaned down, hot breath blowing over your opening. Embarrassed, you covered your eyes with your hands.

“Eyes on me.” His voice was deep, demanding, controlling.

Slowly, you pulled your hands from your eyes, glancing up to witness his sinful expression. That devilish grin.

He was teasing as he leaned down, blowing hot streams of air over your pussy. Pulling the lips apart and staring back up at you from between your legs. Gaze dark. “My my, you are wet, aren’t you? So ready for me already?” His tongue dipped out to taste, licking a flat stripe up the length of your slit.

You gasped; eyes clenching closed before remembering to keep your eyes locked on his. Mirth in his stare. “I’ve been watching you, longing for you, keeping such a close eye on you… for months… never did I think you would look so delicious in my bed.”

Two fingers rubbed against your slit, grinding back and forth over your hole. Gentle “Ohhh…”’s and “Ahhh…”’s sighed from your mouth. Scooping up your slick and using it to press firm circles over your swollen clit.

That felt… good. Really good.

Levi paused, pulling his fingers away, scissoring them and holding them closer to the candlelight. “I guess… a taste wouldn’t hurt.” And his fingers were being sucked into his mouth. He licked around them, groaning. “Fuck… so sweet…” It should’ve been embarrassing but you had never been more aroused.

“I wish I could taste you more, but I can’t wait any longer.” He was tugging his own nightclothes off, untying the knot of his underwear and pulling his hard cock free. It twitched in his hand, heavy and girthy. He scooped more of your slick into his hand, stroking it over his cock. He threw his head back, a growl deep in his throat. “God… I finally have you, y/n… just fucking look at you… all mine.”

The heat of his cock was rubbing at your cunt, grinding it against your clit and fuck you wanted him. There’s a dark look in his eyes, and you suddenly remember that this man took you from your family and arranged a marriage with you to sate some sick obsession he had with you.

You kicked at his shoulder, sending him falling backwards and scrambling to get off the bed. But he pins you down, large hand wrapping around your throat and pushing you back into the sheets. His firm grip on your throat makes breathing difficult, you scratch at his hand but it’s no use.

He thrusts his entire length into you, fucking you into the mattress with such force you can hear the animalistic slapping of skin on skin and it only makes you wetter. His eyebrows are furrowed, angry. You scream, as best you can with his hand around your neck. He silences you with a searing kiss, much less gentle than before, with teeth clashing together.

The gentleness that had been in all his previous actions was gone; he gave no pauses while he pounded into you. He was snarling as he hammered unapologetically into you. “You can never leave me, brat. Be my good, submissive girl and I’ll reward you. Misbehave and you will not enjoy the punishment.”

Despite his rough movements, the pain and pleasure worked together, and it had you clenching around him because it just felt so good.

“Aw,” he sneered, “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” His thrusts had a sense of urgency to them, and he bit his lip as he growled in your ear. His free hand assaulted your clip with delicious friction that had the pleasure in your gut building until it was nearly ready to burst.

Levi grunted, “I’m gonna cum… and you’re gonna take every. Last. Drop.” He punctuated his words with forceful thrusts into your cunt.

“Cum with me… cum now.”

And that pleasure burst, clenching uncontrollable around his cock and milking each rope of sticky white fluid that filled your pussy.

He heaved over you, releasing his grip on your neck, and slowly pulled his softening cock out of your sopping pussy with a squelch.

He left you on the bed, panting and wrecked. Your forehead and hair damp with sweat, covered in his teeth marks and bruises that would be impossible to cover. His cum leaking out of your ruined cunt. He returned with a damp cloth, the cold liquid making you flinch, then relax into the soothing feeling as he wiped at your intimates.

Your eyelids felt heavy, and you couldn’t will yourself to move. But soon there was something being placed around your throat.

“Mmm… fits perfectly.”

It was a white, lace collar, with a dainty little heart.

‘Levi’

“Now, you’re truly mine.”

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peaceoutofthepieces · 4 years ago

Text

Sink Or Swim

tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @saraben00 @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane

~^~

Friday, 20:42

Songs: Daniel Blume - Nights Like This; Selena Gomez - Feel Me

Lucas feels ridiculous.

They haven’t been at the party long, and he’s spent the whole time hiding away along the sidelines. He’d made the mistake of asking his dad to get him a costume, anything, it just has to be a costume, it won’t be that bad. He couldn’t help it, on short notice, with his grounding still somewhat in place and homework beginning to mount up. He’d expected something simple, a crappy zombie costume or maybe a skeleton. Something simplistic. Casual.

He should’ve known better. He should have prepared himself to have to come to the party as a prince.

He’s not even a cool prince. He looks like he walked straight out of a Disney movie, and an animated one at that. He’s just glad there are no frills or over-bright colours. The deep blue is comforting enough, but he still feels weird.

Robbe snorts next to him. “Stop fidgeting. I told you you look good, didn’t I?”

Lucas hums, and continues pulling at his sleeves.

“Lucas, seriously.” Robbe reaches out to still his hands, moving to stand in front of him. “I’m literally wearing the same costume as last year. With the same fake blood.”

Lucas grimaces.

“Yeah, exactly. You look hot. And you have to believe my opinion.”

Lucas raises a brow. “Is that so?”

Robbe hums. “It’s way more trustworthy than the guys’. Luca and Yasmina also said you look hot, right?”

“I think Luca thinks everyone looks hot pretty much all the time.”

Robbe considers this. “Maybe. But I don’t. So believe me.”

“Okay,” Lucas sighs. “For the record, though, you look better than me.”

Robbe snorts, but squeezes his shoulder. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Lucas offers him a smile and casts another glance around, seeking out someone in particular—as usual. It’s not difficult to find him. His eyes latch on to Jana first, and then the arm curved casually around her waist, before trailing up to Jens. They’re dancing awkwardly in the middle of the crowd, but with abandon, not caring how ridiculous they look. Lucas almost wants to cringe at the sight, but his lips creep up in a smile regardless. Once he sets his gaze on the other boy, it’s hard to look away.

He’d met Lucas at the end of his street, despite Lucas’s protests that he didn’t have to go out of his way. Lucas had had to stop before getting to him, freezing in the middle of the sidewalk. Jens had gone for a more expected look, decking himself out in a skin-tight skeleton costume, partially hidden under his coat. It was his face, though, that sent the largest shock through Lucas. Someone had done his makeup perfectly, shading in his temples and eyes and cheekbones and even his neck, highlighting his bones in white, making all his features stark and eerie and stunning.

It would have been fine, if he hadn’t skimmed his eyes over the length of Lucas’s body when he finally reached him with parted lips, as if speechless. Lucas had felt fidgety then, too, until Jens had drawn himself together and cleared his throat. He’d smirked, and said, “I see you took Yasmina’s comment seriously, huh, charmer?” Then Lucas had been able to laugh, and brush the moment of tension off, and Jens had disappeared ten minutes into the party with Jana tugging at his arm.

Lucas feels some of the tension return in a fiery ball of attraction and jealousy, warring together in the pit of his stomach.

“He still looks hotter than both of us, doesn’t he,” Robbe sighs, and Lucas looks at him to see that he’s found Jens in the crowd, too.

Lucas allows himself to nod in agreement. “Even though he’s a terrible dancer.”

“He’s fucking awful,” Robbe laughs.

Lucas drags his gaze away to smile at Robbe again instead. “I’m sure you and Sander would upstage him.”

Robbe’s grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he shakes his head. “Uh, I don’t think dancing is my thing either. Sander looks good doing anything, though.”

He sighs, and Lucas snorts, shaking his head slightly. The quiet admiration he holds for Robbe increases in size. It’s strange, seeing someone be so open. It’s not like Ralph, Ralph who is older and experienced and not like Lucas. Robbe, though...Robbe feels fairly similar to Lucas in a lot of ways, and it makes something in him wonder, stirring with a little more hope than he’d held before. A little more understanding.

“How is Sander?” He watches Robbe’s grin twitch as he asks, and quickly backtracks. “You don’t have to tell me. Anything.”

Robbe shakes his head, his smile turning soft. “No, it’s okay. Sander’s bipolar. He already told me I could tell you. He has a good handle on it, it’s just...not always easy,” Robbe shrugs.

Lucas turns the information over and over in his head and hopes he doesn’t look as shocked as he feels. A part of him flinches away from it. The rest of him is screaming that he should have known, somehow. He pushes both sides away and searches for a response. “And right now...isn’t easy?”

“Yeah,” Robbe sighs. “I don’t think it’s a depressive episode, but he was worried it was the start of one. So he’s just taking a bit of a time out this week. He’s still going to school and everything, so I know that it could be worse. That it’s just a bit of a low mood. I just...I think there’s something going on that he hasn’t told me, but...there’s nothing I can do if he doesn’t want me to know.”

“You’re there for him,” Lucas says carefully. “And he loves you. I’m sure he appreciates that enough.”

Robbe shrugs again, but his smile returns, just slightly. “You’re wise for a Disney prince.”

Lucas scoffs and bumps his shoulder, and then they’re laughing, and it’s okay. Robbe gives him a grateful smile and Lucas clasps his shoulder for just a second. He wonders, for a moment, if he should say something, if he should just begin to explain, and he opens his mouth just as Yasmina slips through the crowd in front of them.

She’s donned in all black, with artfully crafted horns on her head made to represent Maleficent’s. She tugs another girl behind her by the wrist, and Lucas recognises her from the party the week before, with her easy smile and dark fringe, now adorned with gold to match her Cleopatra costume. “Look who I brought,” Yasmina presents her.

Robbe instantly greets the girl with a cheerful, “Hey,” and a hug, completing the gesture with a kiss on the cheek. When they part, he gestures at Lucas, and Lucas gives a small wave. “This is Lucas. Lucas, this is Noor.”

“Robbe’s ex,” Yasmina adds helpfully.

Lucas’s eyes widen in understanding. He quickly fixes a smile onto his face as Robbe rolls his eyes and Noor laughs. “Nice to meet you.”

She gives him a quick hug as well as she returns the sentiment. “You’re the one from...Utrecht, right? Moyo told me about you. I’m from The Netherlands too.”

“But she refuses to tell us where,” Robbe says.

“Well, you’ve gotta keep a little mystery,” Lucas agrees.

Noor nods approvingly at him. “Exactly. No Sander tonight?”

Robbe shakes his head as she turns back to him, wrapping an arm over his shoulder. “Not tonight.”

Noor squeezes him. “Everything good with you two?”

“Yeah, everything’s great,” Robbe assures.

“Good.” She pinches his cheek, and Robbe lets her, rolling his eyes fondly, and Lucas can only watch on in astonishment. Robbe hadn’t mentioned they were still friends, and Lucas wouldn’t have believed him if he’d tried to describe how friendly they actually are. He supposes they’ve had time to get to this point, but he can’t quite imagine himself in a similar position. He doesn’t have the heart that Robbe does.

“Do any of you want to come search for a non-alcoholic drink with me?” Yasmina asks hopefully.

Lucas meets Noor’s eye first, and they both turn to smile apologetically at Yasmina, laughing at themselves. Yasmina rolls her eyes with a smile and focuses in on Robbe, who gives in with a small flap of his hand.

“Yeah, okay. You two don’t want to come?” Noor and Lucas shake their heads and Robbe squeezes Noor’s shoulder as he steps away from her. “Okay. You’re in good hands with Lucas, anyway.”

“Yeah, Prince Charming,” she gestures at him easily, and Lucas laughs, already feeling fond.

Robbe and Yasmina slip away, and he and Noor are left sharing a smile. The silence that settles between them is more casual than awkward, but Lucas still searches for a way to break it.

“So, you and Robbe,” he finally settles on, because it’s the only thing he knows. He cringes immediately afterward, but Noor doesn’t seem upset, listening patiently. “I mean, how was that?”

Noor laughs quietly. “Short. Never perfect. But Robbe isn’t easy to stay mad at. Especially when he seemed so much better off, so much happier, after all of it.” She shrugs. “It helps that his boyfriend is pretty cool, too.”

Lucas laughs, too, and a new slot of admiration is created just for her. “Yeah, he is. But you seem very cool, yourself. I can see why he thought, if anyone, that he could like you.”

“Charmer, huh?” Noor smiles, and Lucas can only shrug, feeling bashful. He wonders how he’s managed to paint that image for himself so quickly again. He marvels at how the word no longer sounds so much like liar.

He’s trying to be more himself, now that he has the room to be someone new. He doesn’t hate the idea that it might not be so different from who he already was.

Noor gets distracted as someone else comes to greet her, and Lucas gives them a small smile and falls back into his own little bubble. He doesn’t mind. He’s able to pick Jens out of the crowd again in seconds.

He still looks ridiculous, swaying out of rhythm with Jana’s arms now looped around his neck, the two of them laughing. Looking incredibly cosy. Lucas watches, and wishes, and wants, and he hates himself for it.

Then suddenly, Jens is looking back.

It should be hard to see in the dull light of the room, from completely opposite ends, but Lucas has no doubt that Jens is looking at him. His gaze flicks up and around and lands on Lucas, as if he’d felt him looking and wanted proof. Lucas feels his jumbled bundle of emotions creep up and lodge in his throat, and he swallows thickly, but he can’t make himself look away. Even as Jens doesn’t part from Jana but moves closer, even as his lips tilt up into something like a smirk but maybe a smile, even as his lids fall to create half-moons out of his eyes, Lucas looks.

Jens keeps looking back.

“Hey.”

He snaps out of it as Noor leans up to speak in his ear, smiling knowingly at him.

“Let’s go give him something to look at, hm?”

Lucas stares down at her, shaking his head in instant denial. Panic bubbles up in him, spreading and stretching until there’s no room left for air. “I—What?”

She flicks her eyes to Jens and then back, raising an unimpressed brow at him. “I’ve gotten better at seeing things in the past year, Lucas. With you, I know exactly what I’m looking for.”

He straightens, feels his face forming into something like a glare against his will, but she sets a hand on his arm and squeezes.

“Hey,” she says softly, “stop that. It’s okay. It’s not like I’ll tell.”

He looks at her for another moment, eyes flicking between hers in search of sincerity. He deflates when he finds it. His voice comes out as barely a whisper, and he’s almost sure she won’t hear it. “Is it that obvious?”

She squeezes his arm again and shakes her head. “Only with the way he’s looking back at you right now.”

“That’s not…” Lucas trails off, wondering what he wants to say. “Jens doesn’t look at me like that. Jens isn’t like that.”

Noor tilts her head, frowning. “How do you know?”

Lucas’s lips part and shut as he searches for an answer. Surely it’s just obvious. Maybe he’s the one in the wrong, for so easily ruling Jens out, but it’s the only way to keep his sanity. Even if Jens could be interested, Lucas can’t allow himself to think that Jens would be interested in him.

He sneaks another glance at Jens, and Jens is still looking back, albeit now with a tiny frown.

Noor uses her grip on his arm to give a tiny tug, raising her brows at him as she begins walking backwards, into the crowd. Lucas follows numbly, only coming to his senses when he’s surrounded by dancing bodies. Then he’s able to rapidly shake his head and look at Noor pleadingly. Backtracking.

“I can’t even dance,” he protests, trying to pull out of her grip, and she lets go only to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Lucas, hey, just take a breath.” She squeezes the back of his neck, and he tries to listen to her, drawing air in carefully and slowly blowing it out. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. We don’t have to dance if you don’t want to. But if you really think he isn’t reciprocating, why waste your night on him? It’s a party, and you look hot as hell, and you should be having fun.”

He almost tells her that she’s just made that a lot harder, because the anxiety currently swirling in his chest is almost enough to drag him under and keep him down for the foreseeable future. She seems to know, anyway, squeezing his neck again as her smile softens into something apologetic. She doesn’t ask any more questions, and she doesn’t make him say the words, and some of the worry dissipates in a cloud of relief.

Someone knows someone knows someone knows.

It’s a little distressing that she’d been able to figure it out on her own, after knowing him for mere minutes, but he’d given himself away and he hadn’t tried at all to deny it. He can’t bring himself to be mad, or upset, as Noor’s smile widens again and she guides him into a rhythmic sway.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, letting himself relax slightly, following her lead.

Noor’s grin widens, and she slides her hands down his arms until she can grip his and guide him into a more dramatic movement. He snorts, and tries not to feel too stupid, and eventually lets a small smile grow on his face.

He can admit it feels nice, taking a moment to let himself go. He doesn’t feel so ridiculous, now. Noor helps, taking the lead and keeping her wide smile, squeezing Lucas’s hands on occasion, dancing happily without much assistance from Lucas. Lucas finds himself moving mindlessly, helped this time by the alcohol only recently added to his system.

His eyes drift back to Jens on their own accord. It’s no harder to find him now, and Lucas’s heart flutters and pounds when he instantly meets his eyes. It’s impossible to truly tell from such a distance, with the lights dim and flashing, but Lucas is almost sure his gaze has darkened, has taken on a new intensity in the few minutes that Lucas hadn’t been looking.

His breath catches, and then leaves him in a rush, because Jana has pulled Jens down into a kiss, and Jens kisses back.

But he’s still looking at Lucas.

Even as Jana cups his face and holds him closer, even as his hands move to her back, even as Noor wraps her arms back around Lucas’s neck, oblivious, Jens keeps looking.

Lucas can’t look away.

Even as his heart tears itself to shreds, it pounds. He can’t stop watching how Jens’s jaw works, how his lashes flutter, how he dips his head, how his eyes never leave Lucas. As if it’s Lucas he wants to be kissing. As if it’s Lucas he has in his arms.

As ridiculous as it is, Lucas can almost feel it.

Stop. He wouldn’t be kissing her at all if he wanted to kiss you. You knew to expect this. Why would he want you?

Lucas has no answer to his thoughts other than the emotions swirling in his chest. The ache from where his feelings had crumbled to dust seems to have inflamed, as if struck by a match. Smoking, not quite managing to set him alight, and still, he has never felt anything like it.

The music cutting off is the only thing that snaps him out of it, and then the lights lift, and he realises Jens has looked away, glancing around in confusion with the rest of the crowd. Senne—who Lucas hadn’t even gotten to greet tonight but who he’d met at his first party here, along with Zoë—clambers onto a chair at the front of the room and claps his hands.

“Cops are at the end of the street, we’re clearing out. Anyone with something to hide needs to go now.”

Fuck.

Lucas casts around in search of his friends, but there are too many people moving around for him to see much. When he looks, however, he can tell that Jens has disappeared. Zoë has taken his place, and is already collecting her things with Jana.

Noor grabs his arm and reclaims his attention. “Do you have anything?”

He shakes his head. “Who did you come with?”

“No one, but I’m fine, my bike’s just down the street. I’ll be gone in seconds.”

He hesitates. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she rolls her eyes, but she pulls him down to plant a kiss on his cheek. “It was lovely meeting you, Lucas. Don’t forget what I said, okay?”

He nods, but she’s already slipping through the crowd and disappearing. Lucas begins to follow, moving with the others in hopes of finding someone, and he merges into the hallway at the same time as Robbe, who is collecting his things from the corner. He catches sight of Lucas and smiles, making his way to him quickly and latching onto his arm. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, but do you have the stuff?”

Robbe’s eyes widen slowly. “Fuck. Jens.”

Lucas knew it. He closes his eyes briefly and then takes a hold of Robbe, pulling him down the hallway with him. They look ridiculous, he’s sure, a prince and a zombie slinking through the currents of people, but there’s a new purpose filling him now.

#van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #sink or swim #vds season fic #sos clip

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sandpumpkin · 4 years ago

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Pumpkin and a Punk

Shameful selfship! This time MetalPumpkin. Had a little too much fun writing this.. so..yeah...Modern AU. Kid had a motorbike. Soft angry Tulip >3<

almost 4k words later. NEEDED TO BE FLUFFIER

A long day of travelling. One cancelled train after another, Hana sighed deeply as she crossed the dimly lit carpark of the convenience store. Her eyes fell upon a group of Harley's sat near the door. So cool.. She thought. Entering the much brighter store hurt her eyes, Snacks..I suppose I already bought a lot but nevermind.. Grabbing a basket she wandered around the store quietly trying to ignore the group near the fridges arguing about what alcohol they should buy. Once she had procured more snacks and something savoury, Hana headed to the till trying to ignore the fact the guy on the register was staring at her with a weird look on his face.

Maybe I should have taken the bonnet off…

Going to the store at night in an orange lolita dress was probably not her best choice but she had just gotten back into town..

Packing her things quickly, she escaped the store and was ready for home, until her eyes fell to the harley again. Her feet slowed to a halt as she stood in front of the bike that seemed to have a cool skeletal design on the body, not that she could appreciate it properly in this dim light.

“OI! What are you doing?!” a voice shouted at her, making her jump and clutch her bag close. As she whirled around stepping away from the bike as a tall man with crimson hair strode towards her with a deep scowl on his face.

“Sorry! I was just admiring your harley! I’m sorry!” she said quickly. Well done you idiot..

He looked her up and done and hummed “you’re an odd one.”

Well that’s not the worst thing someone said to me…

He slung his leg over the bike, Hana noticed the ripped jeans grip his thighs tightly as he leant forward fumbling with the keys. Striking the bike to life, letting it growl loudly. Hana’s eyes lit up. Something about the low thunder of these types of motorbikes just made her happy. “It sounds so cool!” she exclaimed excitedly. The red haired man looked pleased with her response.

“Hm. Didn’t put you for a bike fan.” he hummed.

“I’ve always liked motorbikes. I can’t personally ride one but I still think they’re pretty awesome.” she rambled excitedly. The man leant against his handlebars with a grin on his face

“Why-” before he could say anything else a strong gust of wind swept across the parking lot, tugging at Hana’s bonnet

“Ah! No!” she grabbed hold of the bonnet before it could take off “that was close.” she wheezed, retiring the bonnet to her totebag just as rain began to fall. “I should go. Sorry to bother you.” Hana smiled, bowing quickly and hurrying off into the night before the rain could get worse.

Kid watched the orange haired woman run off. What a weird one.. He thought, he put the stand back down and noticed something orange by his boot. Climbing off his bike, to pick it up, turning it over in his fingers, it was an orange glittery bat shaped bow. One the orange clad princess had had in her hair.

“Kid you done trying to pick up girls in the parking lot again?” Killer teased, as they finally came to join him.

“Ah, shut up.” he hissed, pocketing the bow. Maybe I’ll see her around..can’t miss her in that getup.

At first Kid didn’t make too much of an effort to return the bow. But whenever he looked at it next to his goggles, he thought back to her smile. She was pretty cute. Picking the bow up, Kid headed into town, seeking out someone who could probably help him. Working his way through some of the small streets, he came to a shop you could smell a mile off with the incense floating out the door. Entering the shop, the bell chiming quietly over his head as the door slammed behind him.

“Oi, Hawkins! You here?” Kid called loudly, walking into the centre of the shop.

“I’m always here,” came a voice from behind Kid. Making Kid tense, Hawkins was a tall blonde man, just a little taller than Kid and he always wore the frilliest collared shirts, like he was in a vampire novel or new romantics band. Not that Kid could judge on fashion choices with his snake print trousers.

“Like a damn ghost-”

“And you’re loud enough to wake the dead.” Hawkins chided, heading back behind his counter “You came to have me find something,” he said flatly, looking down at some cards laid out on his counter “or someone..”

“Saves me the trouble of explaining.” Kid strugged, half slamming the bow down on the counter making the cards jump slightly off the surface, “whoever this belongs too.”

“I know who that belongs too without the use of cards,” Hawkins replied simply “but why should I?”

“I just want to return it.”

“Hm,” Hawkins turned over a card and cracked a smile that sent a chill down Kid’s spine “Go to the fountain in the centre of the marketplace, you’ll find what you seek there.”

“-Thanks..I think..” Kid turned on his heels to leave when Hawkins coughed,making Kid groan “Fine. I’ll buy something. Just make it not expensive damn it! I’m not made of money!” he huffed, Hawkins carefully placed a rock that glimmered blues and amber on the counter “you want me to buy a rock?” Kid asked his face riddled with skepticism.

Hawkins closed his eyes slowly, ignoring Kid’s snark “It is a crystal. Labradorite it helps-”

“I don’t care what it does alright? I’ll buy it.” Kid grumbled loudly, fumbling for his tattered wallet. “Daylight robbery for a rock.” he sneered, pocketing the newly acquired rock and hurried on his way. Hawkins is so damn creepy. He thought as he strode quickly through the streets towards the marketplace. In the distance he spotted a familiar orange beacon. A different orange dress today, orange and black stripes and a shirt with frills Hawkins would be jealous for. She looked down to check her phone and her shoulders slumped forward in dismay. Man...Hawkins really is spooky… Kid slowed to a halt as he approached her and patted her on the shoulder making her jump back suddenly. “Shit..sorry..”

“Oh...it’s you..” she looked up at him. “Sorry. You startled me..” she laughed, looking around nervously, “Can I help you?” she asked. Kid thrust the bow out at her, trying to remain cool and aloof

“You dropped this.” he said sharply, dropping the bow into her hand that was covered in lace. Her eyes widened and she looked up at him with a bright smile that made his heart thud loudly against his ribcage What the fu- was that?

“Thank you so much!” she wasted no time in clipping the bow at the edge of the orange berat she was wearing “this is my favourite bow, I was so upset I lost it.”

“Yeah sure..” Now what? He cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his leather jacket’s pocket “so..are you waiting for someone?” he asked, trying not to sound horribly creepy.

“Oh..well..I was.” she chuckled, shuffling nervously “She forgot she had made plans with her boyfriend as well. so..she’s not here.” she said with a shrug “I was going home-”

“Drink!” he half shouted “..do ya want to get a drink or something?” Kid asked as politely as he could. She tensed and rubbed her arm nervously.

“I don’t drink.” she announced and her expression said she was awaiting a snide comment.

“Oh right. I know a place that does good shakes?” Kid offered instead and noticed her eyes lit up at the mention of milkshakes. “Want to join me?” she nodded “-Ya know.. I don’t know your name..”

“Hana. Nice to meet you..it’s Kid right?” she asked with a tilt of her head, he looked at her curiously “I mentioned your cool bike to a friend and they knew you..or know of you. They have a Harley too, you might have seen them around? Bright green quiff has a habit of wearing no shirt-”

“Not Barto?” Kid grimaced “you know him?” sure he knew the guy, they had been in a few fights together about stupid shit. How the hell did this small fairy like woman know that idiot?

“I do. We have mutual friends. He’s a nice guy, very fun.” she laughed “very excitable..”

“I don’t think we’re on about the same guy.” Kid said in disbelief, “anyway..let's go..” she nodded and walked beside him quietly. “Shame your friend ditched you..”

“Not the first time but it’s okay.” she said with a smile, “Brightside. I got my hair bow back.” Kid hummed and they walked in awkward silence to a little American styled dinner. “Oh, I’ve never been here. I have some friends that come here a lot.” she said, following Kid into the quiet dinner and over to a booth.

“Oh, Eustass, you’re early today,” a tall woman with a sharp bowl cut appeared behind the counter and flashed Kid a warm smile. “Oh and you’ve got a little cutie with you today.” Hana blushed and bowed quickly, her orange curls floating around her face.

“-hello..” Kid ushered her over to a booth near the jukebox before Shakky could say anything else embarrassing. He handed her the drinks menu “thank you..”

“God old people-” Hana stared at him skeptically over the menu. He caught himself studying her eyes, he couldn’t place the colour no matter how much he stared

Are they blue? Green? Why the hell do I even care?!

“..She’s not old..She doesn’t look a day over 30..”

“That’s sweet,” Hana jumped hiding behind the menu as Shakky appeared at the table. She leant in and whispered to her and Hana gasped

“I..don’t believe that at all!”

Shakky chuckled “now then what can I get you two?”

Kid slumped back in the seat, slinging his arms over the back of the chair “Chocolate shake.” he stated,

“Can I have a butterscotch milkshake please?” hana asked politely. Shakky nodded and headed back behind the counter. Kid watched her curiously “what?”

“I’m just wondering what the hell that was?”

“Oh..well. I’ve worked in a cafe before..polite customers are few and far between..so I always strive to be a good customer..” she rambled fiddling with her gloves “Sorry..that-”

“nah..I suppose I’m just a ruffian..” he flashed a playful grin at her, which drew a light red hue to her cheeks before she chuckled at him, okay now what...music! “You..wanna put something on the box?” he asked lazily, gesturing to the old fashioned jukebox behind him.

“Absolutely! Any requests?” she asked, sliding from her seat kid held out the coin for her, he shook his head

“Go wild.” he grinned. As she passed his side of the table, he caught sight of a pair of eyes watching from over the counter old man Rayleigh..that bastard- Rayleigh gave him a thumbs up and wink and vanished from view. Kid looked away quickly, he felt hot. Why?! It’s just a woman..

Hana rejoined him at the table just as her first song started playing, Kid listened for a few moments “You like The Cure?” he asked, realising he almost sounded disgusted but that wasn’t his intent at all. “I thought..it would be pop..” he added quickly, mumbling into his hand.

“Here you kids go.” Shakky said, setting the drinks down on the table.

“Thank you.” Hana replied brightly, looking at her milkshake excitedly “looks so yummy.”

This woman..

She slurped her milkshake happily “It’s so delicious!” she kept slurping until she grimaced suddenly “b-brainfreeze” and still she slurped. Kid smirked and watched her power through the brainfreeze to drink the beverage. Kid hummed when the song changed,

“A bundle of surprises..”

“Well my parents listened to a lot of 80’s music so I picked it up..but isn’t Billy Idol cool?” she asked, “you kind of reminded me of him.” Kid almost choked on his drink “Maybe it’s the leather jacket and the cool aura you give off.” she explained, Kid nodded and cleared his throat.

Number..get her number..

“so..Could I-” he was stopped by the door of the diner opening and he saw Killer’s mass of blonde hair

“Oi Kid!” he waved, Hana tensed and drained the rest of her glass in record time.

“I should go. I don’t want to get in the way of your friends. Thank you again.” she smiled, sliding from her chair and disappearing behind Killer and his group. Hearing the bell chime again a few moments later.

“You bastards have the worst timing!” he shouted, slamming his hand on the table. The group looked at the empty glass and turned to the door where it had recently just closed.

“You were on a date?!” they all half yelled, huddling around him quickly trying to try and extort the information out of him.

“Oh Eustass,” Shakky called to him, leaning on the bar with a teasing smile “Don’t worry about paying, your little girlfriend paid for you.” that spurred on more teasing as Kid’s face went the same colour as his face. Shakky chuckled, shaking her head “I wonder how Eustass found such a nice girl.”

“Same way I found you.” Rayleigh added “fate.” he smiled, kissing her cheek softly “why you liked me back still amazes me.”

It was almost a week before Kid found Hana again. He was sat in his basement tuning his guitar, the rock Hawkins had made him purchase was sat on his desk and he could only focus on it. I can’t concentrate.

“Fuck-” he cursed loudly, setting his guitar down. Kid grabbed the rock pocketing it and went to grab his keys. A ride would make him feel better. His harley thundered loudly as he headed out into the cool autumn air. He found himself up the seafront when he noticed a familiar barnet of orange hair sat on a bench watching the waves ebb and flow. Pulling up next to the bench, and removing his helmet running a hand through his flattened crimson locks. He noticed a large uneaten donut in her hand “If you ain’t careful the seagulls will eat that.” he warned, with a grin sitting beside her making her jump.hen he noticed her headphones and she quickly fumbled to pause the music.

“Kid..Sorry.. I wasn’t paying attention.” she laughed,

“Gulls will eat that if you’re not careful,” he repeated.

“Would you like a bite?” she asked, offering him the large and heavily decorated donut “It’s pumpkin spice. My favourite.” Kid leant and took a bite of it, nodding as he chewed it. Hana smiled, and took a bite.

does that..class as one of those shared kisses? Kid shook that sappy thought from his head.

“Bit too sweet..” he mumbled, “where’d you get a donut that big?” he question, licking his lips of the remnant frosting,

“My favourite donut place is up here. Whole Cake Donuts. I’m friends with Katakuri who runs it.”

Does she just befriend everyone?

“Massive..giant of a guy-” she nodded “he bakes?” she nodded eagerly,

“His whole family bakes. They all have different shops that specialise in their preferred dessert.” she explained, taking another bite out of the donut. She looked over her shoulder at the Harley behind them “Out for a ride?”

Kid shrugged resting his hands on the bench to lean backwards “Needed a break from music.” he looked from his precious bike to Hana and smirked playfully “Wanna go for a spin?” her eyes lit up but shook her head,

“I don’t have a helmet-” Kid swung his legs around the bench popping open the seat and grabbing a spare helmet and goggles he was compelled to bring with him. “Got ya covered pumpkin.” he laughed, making her blush. Finishing the giant donut quickly she threw the trash in the bin and made sure her hands were clean before accepting the helmet, placing her beret in her pumpkin shaped bag and pulled the helmet and goggles over her head. Kid chuckled at her bright smile and how the helmet didn’t really go with her outfit but she looked cute nonetheless. He noticed the poofy skirt how..I didn’t plan this.. “You can sit sideways?”

“Oh don’t worry,” she said, giving him a thumbs up before lifting the edge of her skirt. Kid almost stopped breathing. “I got bloomers on, we’re good.” she announced proudly “all modesty protected.”

Kid could feel his face burning, what was I expecting?! He snorted and tapped the helmet “don’t go flashing people.” he warned, climbing onto his bike, he barely felt any additional weight on the back of the motorbike until he felt a tug on his jacket. “Shit, do you weigh anything?”

“Aha..”

Kid shook his head “you can hold onto the back if you want.” he stated, kicking the stand and striking the bike into life. He heard Hana’s excited giggle behind him, which made him grin wildly. Why is this making me so fucking happy? This is stupid. “Hang on.” he shouted over the loud thundering engine. He could just hear her small voice over the noise and headed off and instantly felt a pair of arms wrap around his chest clasping at the front

“Sorry!”

Fuck..this woman is gonna kill me.

Kid never let anyone ride his bike..why was he even permitting her to ride it..but then..she had shown respect to his precious Victoria from the beginning and there was something about her that told him she was different. His heart was racing as he felt her head rest against his back. His grin just got wider with every passing second. He headed just out of the town and up to a viewing point that overlooked the beach and the seemingly endless ocean. “Here we are.” he announced switching the bike off. Only the sound of the ocean and the rustling trees could be heard. Hana dismounted carefully and pouted as she fumbled with the buckle of the helmet, pulling the goggles around her neck as she lifted the helmet off her head, freeing her now wild hair. Shaking her hair free “That was so cool!” she said spinning around letting her skirt flare around her. “So cool!” she announced again. Kid leant against his bike and watched her spin around. He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. Letting it linger there a moment until he felt a pair of eyes upon him.

“-what…” he asked, noticing her staring in his direction.

“You’re really nice,” she stated, her smile could have blinded him. He looked away sharply,

“Don’t tell people that. I have a rep to keep up.” he huffed, trying to hide the blush creeping up his neck. His heart jumped into his throat when he blinked and found Hana standing closer to him holding up her pinky.

“Pinky promise.” she grinned,

Kid laughed loudly “bit old for that aren't ya?” he teased but went to comply anyway, looping his little finger with hers.

“I won’t tell..also..how big are your hands?!” she gasped, what? Kid stared at both of his hands and frowned. They're not that big are they? “Look-” she held up her hand gestured Kid to do the same, she placed her hand against his. Indeed his hands were bigger but wasn’t she just small? Before he could say anything, Hana slipped her delicate fingers between his and held his hand gently. Kid’s brain shut down. She..what… his heart was banging against his chest like Killer’s shitty drums and he felt on fire, he was certain steam was coming off his face. What is this woman?! Kid was trying to face his internal dilemma, when he noticed a glimmer of concern in her ocean like eyes. He squeezed her hand tightly, bringing a rivalling blush to her cheeks. “You’re so warm!” she said in awe bringing his hand closer to her face to nuzzle it. Something inside Kid snapped, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into his chest wrapping his arms around her tightly, resting his chest into her shoulder.

“The hell are you doing to me?” he asked, his usual tone sounded a little softer, almost scared. Hana chuckled against him and returned the embrace. “You appeared out of nowhere and left me wanting more.”

“Aha..sorry..” she looked up at him “does it help...I feel the same? I er...I like you.” Hana replied nervously, failing to keep eye contact with him as she confessed to him. Kid blinked and grinned, he dipped to close the gap between them capturing her lips in a swift kiss not relinquishing his strong embrace.

“This time..give me your damn number..” he half demanded with a pout tugging on his lips, she looked dazed for a moment and with both of their lipstick smudged on one another, they both succumbed to laughter. First woman to laugh after kissing me… Rummaging into her bag, she pulled out her phone. Kid reached into his pocket and then another pocket before groaning loudly. “I forgot my fucking phone!” he yelled loudly, which just made her laugh more. She took hold of his hand again lacing their fingers together slowly.

“Don’t worry. We’ll meet up again, on maybe an actual date?” she asked with a coy smile, Kid smirked dipping to steal another kiss.

“I ain’t letting you go again…” he mumbled against her lips. “Come on..I’ll take you home…” Kid said, pulling away his stomach was doing summersaults what is wrong with me?! As he pulled his keys out of the pocket on his jacket, the crystal fell out of his pocket rolling near her little platform shoes. “Oh..that’s just some rock-” she picked it up and inspected it curiously before delving into the pocket on her dress pulling out a rock in the same colours.

“You have one too?” she asked, handing him the rock back.

“Not by choice..Hawkins made me buy it..” he huffed, now he felt like a complete fool. “I’m going to tear Goldilocks hair out..” he growled under his breath.

“Hawkins gave me one too. I only went to buy a new candle and he said I should take this too.” she smiled “It’s Labradorite, Hawkin’s said it can help us make decisions that lead to lucky outcomes and I think he was right,” Hana looked up at him with such a kind smile that no one had ever looked at him with “Because if I hadn’t come out today..I wouldn’t have seen you.”

Kid blinked and pulled her back into his arms “you’re crazy.” he chuckled.

“..crazy in love with you.” she mumbled into his chest. The trees rustled loudly as the wind plucked the deep red leaves from their branches and scattered them across the clearing as the sun began to set in the distance, as if pulling down a red curtain on the final act of a play.

#pumpkin writes #metalpumpkin #softest metal boi #eustass kid #eustass kid x pumpkin #FLUFFFFF #modern Au #Kid has a motorbike #selfship #shameful selfship

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angelguk · 5 years ago

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another prerequisite to the things i never told you fic that is coming [eventually]. i do suggest u read this or else oc’s behaviour/reactions will not make sense in the main fic. kinda angsty. jeongguk is mean. jeongguk’s girlfriend is mean. listen to being freezed by heize. 1.8k.

He’s late. You should have expected that. And yet, it still stings; an odd pain tightly gripping your heart as a gentle autumn breeze whispers through the air. Sunlight wanes against the worn brick pavements, splaying across your dirty sneakers, the shoelaces untethering themselves despite the firm knot you’d tugged them into before sprinting up the hill where you promised to meet. You tap your feet against the ground, the pounding that your soles make harmonising with the erratic beating of your heart. His present is clenched between your tense fingertips, the crinkle of plastic melting into the rustle of leaves. They sway gently above your head, courtesy of the zephyr that settles over the hill. You hope he likes it. You’d taken time out of your exhausting high school schedule to thread together his bracelet. Lilac, violet and a dash of white flowing through the amateur design. His favourite colour is purple. Or at least that’s what you can recall. You don’t remember the last time you had a full conversation with Jeongguk - despite him being your best friend.

And it was all because of her.

Even the thought of her name has your heart plummeting to your gut, your fingertips taut around the plastic bag that contains his presents. There was also a new sketching pad and a bunch of expensive colour pencils you’d forked your savings over for bumping inside the bag, hopefully not rumpling the card you'd made for him. But it was worth it. You know how much Jeongguk likes to draw. But you don’t know if he’d appreciate these gifts as much as you think he would have if she wasn’t in the picture. Jeongguk has changed, drastically, since he’d started seeing her. From the way he styled his hair to his interests - little by little the things you knew and adored about your best-friend gradually vanished, replaced by a person who was virtually a stranger to you. Sometimes you go whole days without seeing him, he’d even swapped seats with a classmate to be closer to his viper of a girlfriend. She’d been so smug when you’d walked into class to find nosy Yongsun as your new seatmate instead of seeing Jeongguk planted in the chair whose leg he’d carved his name into at the start of the year with a sheepish grin tugging at his petal pink lips. You had felt her eyes boring into your head, and when you snuck a glimpse at her direction (right in front of the class where she could suck up to the teacher; a position that Jeongguk had always abhorred) you couldn’t miss the sly upturn of her lips. Jeongguk would have seen it too, if he wasn’t so busy writing her a stupid cheesy love note.

He would have seen a lot, if he bothered to pay attention.

You’d only showed up to the hill because this was your tradition, something she hadn’t been able to taint with her toxicity just yet. There’s only a slither of hope inside of you that believes he’ll show up. But you stay regardless, because it’s your best-friends birthday and you’ll be damned if you let some girl who’d only shown up in the middle of the school year take this away from you too.

It’s the rough pedalling of a bicycle that yanks you from the pit of despair that you’re currently wallowing in. Jeongguk’s face appears around the bend a second later, soft brown curls ruffled by the wind that wipes around his frame. He’s still got his school uniform on, white sleeves rolled up the elbow and his navy tie loosened from its hold. It’s a stark contrast to the sweatpants and knitted jersey you’d tossed on after coming from school before hurrying to the hill. And then her face pops up from behind his, the dark bangs cut across her forehead unmoving even with the breeze whistling around you.

You don’t say anything, the greeting you were about to mutter caught in your throat. Instead, your gaze follows them cautiously, watching the disdainful look his girlfriend gives you as she halts her bike behind Jeongguk’s.

“Hi,” Your best-friend says. He even sounds different. It makes your heart ache violently.

“Hey Jeongguk,” You return, praying he doesn’t note the waver in your tone. And then you throw her a glance. “Hi, Minjoo.”

She doesn’t say anything in response. Apparently, her nails are more interesting than acknowledging your presence. What’s worse is that Jeongguk doesn’t even bat an eyelid at her behaviour.

“Happy birthday!” You try instead, gaze flickering back to Jeongguk. But your heart drops when you find him sending you the same air of disinterestedness emitting from Minjoo. “I haven’t even seen you today! How are you?”

“I’m fine, just busy.” You hate how monotone his response is. “How are you?” That simple question is enough. Something to show you that he still cares. You hang onto it like a fish caught on bait.

“Exhausted, dude. I have so much to tell you. Where are we going for dinner? The stories I have have to be told over food.” Birthday dinner was part of your tradition. Exchange gifts on the hill, share anecdotes over food, spend way too much at the arcade before moving to linger at the park until sundown and then crash at each other’s house (at yours on your birthday and at Jeongguk’s on his). It wasn’t extravagant or wild. It was simple. Like your relationship. Nothing complicated. Just the two of you together, enjoying each other’s company.

The silence that spans between the two of you indicates that, for the first time, in the sixteen years you’d know Jeongguk, that something was complicated.

He scratches the nape of his head first, bottom lip caught between his lip as he thinks of a way to navigate through the problem that you’re still unaware of. If it’s Minjoo’s presence, you can work through that, an assurance already drifting from your lips. You don’t know why she hates you. But if she’s the girl that Jeongguk loves, you’ll tolerate it. He’s your best friend, after all, the person you cherish the most. You’ll just have to learn to find the things that Jeongguk loves about her with your own eyes. You’ll get there eventually. You know you will. Because you don’t know what your life would without Jeongguk.

But then he glances back at Minjoo, who’s staring at him impatiently, rapping her long nails against the metal handle of her bike and you sense that something is off. Very off.

“Are we not going out?” You softly murmur, intentionally putting emphasis on the ‘we’ as your eyes flicker between their unreadable faces. Their eyes are speaking full-length paragraphs to each other but you don't understand what any of their weighted gazes mean, the look Minjoo is giving Jeongguk practically indecipherable. “Are we going to eat at your mom’s? That’s okay! I haven’t seen your mom in a while.” You stand up without thinking, your sneakers shuffling the fallen copper leaves around, a resounding crunch emitting from your steps. Minjoo stares at you like you’re dirt for doing that.

“Um…” Jeongguk eyes are apologising when the words aren’t even out of his mouth yet. They’re round, innocent, gaze anywhere but on you. “We already have plans.”

It’s clear, immediately, that that we doesn’t include you.

“Oh.” Your voice is meek even to your own ears, a strange small sound that makes your heart crumble inside of you. “Okay. That’s fine. You can just take your present then.”

He plucks it out of your hands, not even bothering to peer inside, feet already moving to place themselves on the pedals of his bike. Minjoo’s already turning her own bike away, bone straight onyx hair staring back at you, shoulders triumph in a manner that makes the pain gripping your heart spread across your chest, gaze swimming with the torrent of tears that you’re furiously blinking away.

It’s not fine. It’s not fine at all.

“Jeongguk!” You catch him before he speeds off, Minjoo already flying down the worn pathway. Her silence isn’t missed.

“What?” He spits the word out like you’re a nuisance. It takes everything in you not to punch him right across his pretty face.

“We need to talk.” The words wobble into each other, tone quivering with the tears you swallow.

“Now?” He ruffles his hair again, an exasperated sigh floating from his lips. There’s a sly eye roll that you catch instantly. Your heart lurches sharply in your chest.

“Yes now.”

“Can’t it wait? Minjoo’s planned something and she’ll get mad at me if I mess it up.” The impatience in his voice is palpable. You really want to punch him in the face. It’s alright for him to suddenly abandon a tradition that both of you treasure, at the drop of a hat all for some even that his annoying girlfriend planned for him? And she’s allowed to get annoyed about him messing the surprise up while you’re meet to just swallow the sudden despondency that sits heavy on your chest?

“It can’t wait.” You try to be firm, but like the autumn leaves that hang loosely from the branches above, your resolve is weak. It crumbles, when he settles on his bike, huffing loudly, a frown marring his features. And you hear her voice, frill as she screeches his name. She’s a banshee, a bringer of misfortune and pain. Some part of you wants to sew her mouth shut. That part grows bigger when you note how his back straightens and his eyes widen, feet faltering back to the pedals of his bike.

“Later.” Jeongguk dismisses you. “We’ll talk later. I don't want to fight with you right now.”

And then he’s off, swift with his movements, a hurry that indicates trepidation driving his frame further and further away.

You plop back down on the bench, fists clenched with the ire that blazes inside of you. You ball your hands into your lap, blink away the sudden heat you feel in your face and try not to dwindle on the fact that Jeongguk didn’t even thank you for the present. Or look at it. Or even pretend to care. It hurts. More than you expect it too. You wish you could erase it, all of it. Especially Minjoo. How she’s managed to worm her way into Jeongguk’s life and rip him right from your fingertips is lost on you. But it’s becoming clear now, how little Jeongguk values the relationship you have. If he even cared in the slightest, he would have stayed to listen. Faced whatever consequence Minjoo would have waiting for him with valiance. But with how fast he scrambled, it’s evident Jeongguk didn’t think it was worth it. You weren’t worth it. Not anymore.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #bts x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook angst #bts angst

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accioromione · 4 years ago

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ok please I now I need a fic where its the yule ball and ron goes with Fleur and heroines jealous even though she's with Krum

Harry went to the common room to see Ron surrounded by people. He was sitting staring at the wall, and appeared to be frozen in place. Harry subconsciously wondered if a stunning spell had been placed upon him.

‘What’s wrong, what happened?’ Harry said, making his way through the crowd surrounding his best friend.

‘He just asked Fleur Delacour to the Yule ball’ Fred said, smirking at Harry.

‘What?’ Harry asked,

‘Yeah, he just came inside, told us he asked Fleur and sat down...now he won’t say anything’

‘He’s just sat there, frozen?’ Harry asked, looking at Ron, who was very pale in the face.

George shook his head, ‘Merlin Ron, can’t do one thing can you...earth to Ron!’

Ron took his eyes away from the wall and looked at everyone around him as if he had just noticed them being there for the first time.

‘Ron...are you okay? What happened, she’s part Veela you know’ Harry added, putting a hand on his shoulder.

‘That explains it’ said Lee Jordan,

‘She - she....she said yes’ Ron said, looking as if he was shocked by his own words.

‘You’re lying’ Fred said, but Harry knew that Fred wasn’t convinced, as Ron was not the type to lie about such things. And the look on Ron’s face confirmed that he himself was shocked at the information he had just revealed.

‘I- I didn’t even mean to ask her, I was walking by and something just came over me...’ Ron said, trailing away again to look at the wall.

‘How in the hell did you get Fleur to say yes.....Ron...I might just claim you as my brother after all’ George joked patting him on the back.

‘Merlin Harry, you got a date yet? Guess being a champion isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be huh?’ Fred joked, and Harry just looked at Ron in shock. It wasn’t like Ron was ugly, but Fleur, well at least this way Ron would be by his side during the champion calling. Now Harry was feeling nervous, he needed a date for the Yule ball, and it felt like there were no girls left.

As if on cue, Parvarti and Lavander came into the common room giggling. Harry took matters into his own hand, Harry took a deep breathe.

‘Parvarti, do you want to go to the Yule Ball with me?’ Harry asked, causing Parvarti and Lavander to giggle. Their giggles subsided, allowing Parvarti to answer.

‘Yes, sure Harry,’

‘Brilliant’ Harry said, smiling. Ron and Harry made their way down to the great hall for supper. Harry felt more at ease now that he knew he had a date to the Yule ball, but he could not help but feel a sad longing that he was unable to go to the Ball with Cho. Ron, surprisingly, did not seem to be in high spirits in light of his date, he had become a huge ball of anxiety.

‘Oh my god she’s going to take one look at my robes and ditch me’ Ron said in panic, Ron had not touched anything on the table.

‘Relax Ron you’ll be fine, the worst part was over, now that she’s said yes ...well you’re going with her.’ Harry said, putting a spoonful of mashed potatoes on his plate, he found it hard to feel sympathy for Ron’s case.

‘Going with who?’ Ginny asked, taking a seat at the table.

‘Er....’ Harry said giving a look at Ron, but the look Ron gave Harry told Harry that he was not to tell Ginny who he was going with.

‘Ummm...I’m going with Parvarti,’ Harry said, Ginny looked put out at this.

‘Oh, well, that’s great, I’m going with Neville, since I’m not old enough and he asked me...Hey Hermione,’ Ginny said sadly as Hermione approached the three of them.

‘Hello...Ron what’s wrong? You look as pale as Nearly Headless Nick..’ Hermione added, as she pulled a plate towards herself.

‘Did Ron not find a date then?’ Ginny asked, and Hermione laughed.

‘Eloise looking good now Ron?’ Hermione asked, as Ron still looked anxious.

‘No...he did.’ Harry interrupted

Hermione did not look at all happy with the news. Harry saw her frown but then replace the frown with what seemed to be an overly enthusiastic smile that did not at all look natural.

‘Oh that’s great, Harry you found a date too?’ Hermione asked, her smile now freakishly large.

‘Er...yeah,’ Harry said,

‘Great now all four of us have dates! Lovely!’ Hermione said, the grin still etched on her face.

This news seemed to bring Ron’s attention back to the table.

‘What, who are you going with?’ Ron demanded,

‘I...I’m not saying, you’ll only make fun of me!’ Hermione said, now blushing. ‘Besides, why do you care, you have a date! Who are you going with?’ Hermione hesitantly asked.

‘Why should I tell you if you’re not telling me?’ Ron responded.

‘Fine!’ Hermione said before stalking off angrily,

‘Who is she going with?’ Ron asked Ginny

‘It’s her business, besides, why should I tell you when you won’t tell me who you’re going with’ Ginny said coolly.

Ron did not seem happy with this answer. The next week there was clear tension between Ron and Hermione. Ron kept asking her who she was going to the ball with at random times hoping that she would be caught off guard and answer. It did not seem to work. And although Hermione had dropped the subject of asking Ron who he was going to the ball with, she seemed to be acting very coolly towards Ron, who was panicking more about the Yule Ball as it approached sooner. Harry had no idea how a ball had managed to create such a huge problem between his two closest friends.

The day of the Yule Ball finally arrived, Hermione had bid farewell early. Ron had asked her why she needed four hours to get ready but she just brushed him off. Ron had left soon after Hermione and Harry had gone up to his dorm to find his stressing about his robes, he had used magic to make them look more modern. And it had slightly worked.

‘Harry I’m not going, I look like an idiot’ Ron said, slumping on the bed.

‘Don’t be stupid’ Harry said

‘She’ll laugh as soon as she see’s me’ Ron said, head in his hands,

‘Now now Ron, that’s not ball spirit is it’ Fred said, as he entered alongside George into their dormitory.

‘I look like an idiot’ Ron sighed,

‘As usual’ Fred said, ‘but fortunately for you little brother, we may have something to help, we used it on our robes, and ours turned out good, news wheezes invention’ Fred said tossing him what appeared to be a sewing needle.

Ron caught it, ‘what does it do?’

George sighed, ‘gives you a massage, what do you reckon it does oh bright one? Did you curse Fleur to say yes?’

‘It modifies your clothes, just put it through any piece of the fabric and give it a go’ Fred interjected

Ron did that and as soon as he did the pin went zooming all over his robes, the frills and laces now gone, and the robe now modified.

‘Brilliant’ George said, ‘this is for the colour’ he added, tossing Ron a navy blue marker,

Ron took it, and learning from the needle, took off the cap and rubbed it on the fabric of his new improved robes. It turned a nice shade of navy blue.

‘That’s brilliant’ Ron said smiling,

Fred and George beamed, ‘can’t have you embarrassing us, your face is bad enough, don’t need robes ruining it...Harry you look dashing...Gryffindor men, minus Ron, not too bad eh, see you lot on the dance floor,’ Fred said, the twins winked at Ron and Harry and exited their dormitory. Harry took one last look at his green robes in the mirror, and waited for Ron, who had just looked at himself for the tenth time.

‘Ron...come on... you look fine’ Harry said, looking at the clock, he was due to meet up with Parvarti,

Ron gulped and took a final look at himself in the mirror.

‘Right..yeah...well....okay let’s get this done with.’

The boys went downstairs and saw Parvarti, who had her hair braided in golden bands, and was in a pretty pink dress robe.

‘Er.. you look nice’ Harry said awkwardly,

‘Thank you,’ Parvarti said, looking at Harry

‘Where’s Hermione?’ Ron asked, Parvarti shrugged her shoulders,

‘Right, well, we have to go meet up with Fleur, that’s Ron’s date,’ Harry told Parvarti and Parvarti looked shocked.

‘You’re taking Fleur’ Parvarti asked, wide eyed

‘Er..yeah..’ Ron’s ears turned red, ‘I said I’d meet her in front of the hall’

The three of them made their way in front of the hall, and sure enough, there Fleur was in silvery robes, looking as beautiful as ever.

Ron’s eyes widened and his mouth opened in shock, Harry nudged him to get a grip of himself.

‘Ello Ron...’Arry....I ‘ave not ‘ad zee pleasure, you ‘ar?’ Fleur said, looking at Parvarti

‘Parvarti Patel...’ Parvarti said in annoyed voice,

‘Zee gold in your ‘air, it eez nice, I wanted to do so but I felt it would clash you see’ Fleur said to Parvarti, and Parvarti warmed up at her compliment.

‘You look beautiful’ Ron said with a strangled voice,

‘Tank you Ronald’ Fleur said, ‘it eez nice that you ‘are friends with ‘Arry, we will all be able to join the champion dancing this way you see’

‘Right’ Harry said, ‘well we better be off’

The four of them entered the ball and it looked immaculate. Harry had Neve seen in the great hall look so nice.

‘Ouuuu’ Parvarti whispered at the sight

‘Zees eez nothing’ Fleur said, ‘In beaxbatons zee decorations would put these to shame’

‘Yeah, right , shame!” Ron said, looking at Fleur in awe.

‘Champions! Champions!’ McGonagall yelled, and the four of them made their way to her. Harry saw Cedric approach, accompanied by Cho, which made Harry’s heart sink. And then he saw Viktor Krum approach, with a pretty girl in blue robes that Harry did not know.

Harry looked at Ron to distract himself from looking at Cho, and saw that Ron no longer looked taken with Fleur. Instead he was looking dagger eyed at Viktor Krum and the girl beside him. Harry looked back to see why exactly he was so angry at Viktor and his date, and Harry’s jaw dropped.

It was Hermione.

But she didn’t look like Hermione at all. She had done something with her hair; it was no longer bushy, but sleek and shiny, and twisted up into an elegant knot at the back of her head. She was wearing robes made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material, and she was holding herself differently, somehow – or maybe it was merely the absence of the twenty or so books she usually had slung over her back. She was also smiling – rather nervously, it was true – but the reduction in the size of her front teeth was more noticeable than ever. Harry couldn’t understand how he hadn’t spotted it before.

‘Hi, Harry!’ she said. ‘Hi, Parvati!’ Parvati was gazing at Hermione in unflattering disbelief. She wasn’t the only one, either; when the doors to the Great Hall opened, Krum’s fan club from the library stalked past, throwing Hermione looks of deepest loathing.

Hermione had not yet noticed Ron, but as soon as she did the smile vanished off of her face. ‘Ron?’ She asked, looking shocked.

But Ron did not say anything, he just looked coldly at her.

Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs, and follow her. They did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as they entered and started walking up towards a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting. The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The house tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people. Harry concentrated on not tripping over his feet. Parvati seemed to be enjoying herself. He caught Ron and Hermione stealing glances of eachother as they each danced with Fleur and Krum.

The six of them ended up taking seats next to eachother.

‘New robes Ron?’ Hermione casually asked, as she sat beside Krum.

Ron’s ears turned red, ‘new hair?’ He asked, both Krum and Fleur looked confused.

‘You two are knowing eeachother?’ Fleur asked Ron and Hermione

‘They’re both Harry’s best friends’ Parvarti interjected, ‘it’s well known, kind of funny how everyone is related to a champion’

‘Vut? Iz dees true Hem my o nini?’ Krum asked Hermione

Hermione blushed, ‘well yes, but it wasn’t planned, I didn’t know who Ron was going with and I didn’t say either’

Fleur did not seem to be bothered, ‘guess you jus’ attract champeeons, when Ronald asked me I thought, eet was very brave, I also like ‘is red ‘air’ Fleur added, looking at Ron, who turned red at this. Hermione looked simply furious.

Krum noticed this and attempted to bring his attention back on her, ‘care to dance to this Her-my-oninny?’ he asked, holding out his hand, which Ron glared at,

Hermione blushed, ‘Hermione, oh forget it, alright!’ and the two of them took off, leaving Ron to glare at them.

‘Would you like to dance Fleur?’ Ron asked, taking his glare off of Hermione too look at Fleur.

‘I ‘am a beet tired, zee next song if eet eez better,’ Fleur said, and Ron respected her wishes. Fleur decided that the next song was good enough to dance, and Harry saw her and Ron disappear into the dance floor.

‘Well, want to dance Harry?’ Harry looked gloomily at Cedric and Cho, ‘I don’t like this song’ Harry lied, Parvarti looked annoyed and remained seated.

As five songs went by, Parvati sat down on Harry’s other side, crossed her arms and legs too, and within minutes, was asked to dance by a boy from Beauxbatons. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Harry?’ Parvati said. ‘What?’ said Harry, who was now watching Cho and Cedric. ‘Oh, never mind,’ snapped Parvati, and she went off with the boy from Beauxbatons. When the song ended, she did not return.

Harry decided to go for a walk outside, and took his time doing so. He walked back to Gryffindor Tower alone.

The Fat Lady and her friend Vi were snoozing in the picture over the portrait hole. Harry had to yell ‘Fairy lights!’ before he woke them up, and when he did, they were extremely irritated.

He climbed into the common room, and found Ron and Hermione having a blazing row. Standing ten feet apart, they were bellowing at each other, each scarlet in the face. ‘Well, you were clearly happy with Fleur!’ yelled Hermione; her hair was coming down out of its elegant bun now, and her face was screwed up in anger. ‘Oh yeah?’ Ron yelled back. ‘And you weren’t happy with Viktor?!’

Hermione was now pink in the face.

‘Then there’s no issue then is there! But if you’re so upset about Viktor you know what the solution is don’t you?’

‘Oh yeah? What’s that?’ Ron yelled

‘Next time there’s a ball, how about ask me instead!’

Ron mouthed soundlessly like a goldfish out of water as Hermione turned on her heel and stormed up the girls’ staircase to bed. Ron turned to look at Harry.

‘Well,’ he spluttered, looking thunderstruck, ‘well – that just proves – completely missed the point –’ Harry didn’t say anything. He liked being back on speaking terms with Ron too much to speak his mind right now – but he somehow thought that Hermione had got the point much better than Ron had. As he had seen, first handedly, how upset Ron was at Hermione being with Viktor, even with a part Veela by his side. And he had seen how livid Hermione was at the sight of Ron and Fleur. And Harry knew that in that moment, Ron and Hermione had developed something deeper than a friendship.

#new canon #romione #my fic

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mahou-furbies · 4 years ago

Text

Magical Girl Raising Project Limited - character design ranking

Captain Grace

An alright pirate design with enough little details that keep it from being forgettable (I especially like the anchor buckle on her belt, and the earrings and hooks on her hair). The spikes on the coat are what stands out most to me; makes me think of a Mario enemy or something. However I’m not sure how much of a Magical Girl design it is. Like pirates and frills already go together, so the well tested formula (put a miniskirt and frills on it and it’s a magical girl look!) doesn’t really do much. Maybe it’d be better if she had some cutesy detail in there somewhere? Also is that an tail again or what, or some kind of blunt hook? What is it with these unnecessary tails in Magipro designs. 6/10.

Funny Trick

I’ve always liked Funny Trick’s look, and it’s probably because of the pleasant colour palette, unique eyes and two-tone hair (I’m easy to please with two-tone hair). The nail polish and colourful glitter on her fur are also good little details. But apart from that I guess this is only barely strange enough to be any kind of “magical” look rather than just an anime stage magician, but at least that’s pretty close to magical girls already. Also is that a frigging tail again?? At least it goes well with the hair I guess... 8/10.

Kuru-Kuru Hime

It’s a cute design, but when I think of a ribbon magical girl I somehow expected more ribbons? Like this feels like an the higher end of an average magical girl amount of ribbons? Or maybe it’s totally over the top and my perspective is just skewed since I love ribbons and want them everywhere. Either way I like her outfit from neck down, but I’m not that into the headgear, the combo of the bonnet thingy and the weird crown just sitting on top if it looks strange to me. Nice hair tho even if it could use more ribbons. 6/10.

Weddin

I absolutely love Weddin’s design. The muted and light colour palette is very appealing to me, and the dark chains break up the mostly monochrome design so it doesn’t look dull and faded and also give the otherwise super frilly appearance quite a lot of edge. There’s repeating elements (braids in her hair and veil, the same kind of flowers everywhere, flower yellow also appearing in her eye makeup) so it doesn’t get too complicated, and all of them go well with the wedding theme too. The flame... is a bit of an odd touch and I’d rather associate it with a birthday party or Christmas than a Wedding but I guess you can have candles at weddings too, and I don’t find it too distracting.

I’m not a huge fan of the lingerie like look though, but at least visible garters go with the wedding theme and she’s so covered in veils and frills that it doesn’t look so bad. Also the back train looks kind of lazy. But overall still one of my favourite Magipro designs. 10/10.

Rain Pow

A tail again! However this time I actually like it, since she has that rainbow hoop behind her it looks good to stick something through it, and at least it somewhat resembles her twintails.

As for the rest of the design, it has zero frills and ribbons and looks more like some kind of scifi spacesuit than a typical magical girl design, but somehow I still really like it. I think the weird heart hair is just enough to pull it into magical girl territory for me so my impressions are more on the “an unique take on an mg look” rather than “not mg enough” side. Then all the rings keep the look consistent (I absolutely love the rainbow halo) and the suit itself looks alright enough. I also find it interesting how muted the suit colours are for a rainbow magical girl and even the rainbow is pretty pastel, but I figure this is a better choice than all the expected seven colours in all their eye-strainy glory. 9/10.

Postarie

Please put on some pants, that is a shirt and not a dress.

Not too interested in this one, but I find it a commendable effort on making a design on the idea of “postal delivery girl”. Still lots of repeating elements so that’s a plus, especially the back epaulette is such an absurd idea but somehow it works and its wings and the wing hairstyle add the required fantasy touch. Bonus points for the cute birds. 7/10.

Tepsekemei

An inoffensive genie design but I struggle to really have emotions towards it. Butt flower is silly and I have no idea what the things hanging from it are, but at least they’re consistent with her head decoration. Don’t care for the shoulder spikes in an otherwise soft looking design. Huge earrings and multicoloured nails are a nice touch. 6/10.

7753

Also one of my favourite Magipro looks. It feels like the design philosophy here was “gakuran jacket and some frills, and then some hearts. And more hearts! More! Even more!” and I think it’s a great way to go with when designing a magical girl. Using just hearts everywhere makes the outfit cohesive, but since they’re all implemented in different ways it doesn’t get boring. I especially like the little hearts on her hands and under the eye, and the one in her pocket.

Two-tone hair in twintails is also one of the best design elements out there and the hairstyle is quite memorable (and also manages to incorporate the heart motif) and I’m always a fan of caps too. The green eyes and the little bit of green nail polish which you unfortunately can’t see here go well with the otherwise reddish look. Maybe the hair looks a bit too clunky (I only just realised it appears to be tied in a hoop behind her) but I won’t let it bother me. 10/10.

Mana

A solid witch design, I especially love the dimensional cape and hat. I also like the huge collar with the lace detail, but I’m not sure if it works with the hat brim. Not a big fan of the hair, I think it clutters the design. The snake leg accessory feels weird and a bit out of place but I do appreciate the asymmetry and also having something dark to break up the otherwise plain bottom part of the design.. 7/10.

Gekokujou Hana

I tend not to be a huge fan of kimono-based clothes, but this one is an exception I guess. The great colours must play a part in it, and the bottom part is fun. Then the dangly decorations add the correct amount of strangeness so it’s not just a bunny girl in a mini kimono Also, another tail, but this time it’s almost a requirement and I love how ridiculously huge it is (and also repeats elsewhere in her outfit). But really I can’t think of anything to dislike about this, must be the colours and the tail. 10/10.

Archfiend Pam

I believe this is the record on how little clothing you can wear in this franchise... At least she has the personality to pull that off. But that is not a top! At least it’s something new...? The wings fit the description in the story, but I don’t think these blank rectangles look very aesthetically pleasing. I like the tail best, the fur edge makes it a lot more interesting than just the usual demon tail. I don’t know, if the theme is a sexy demon girl this design definitely accomplishes it in a unique way, but also I don’t care for this fanservicey designs. Also not a fan of the hair. 4/10.

Pythie Frederica

Before drawing her for the chibi series I thought she had some kind of a helmet but upon closer inspection of course it’s a veil. But what are the horns?

Upon closer inspection this one is also very fanservicey, in that her “dress” is actually see-through and the only thing covering the critical areas look like thin belt-thingies. At least she doesn’t look like she’s ten... But a major issue I have is the bottom part of her outfit, like how is it supposed to work? Is it one big piece of cloth, or multiple thin ones? What is the “fire” behind her? Is the dark part her hair, or the clothing, and is it supposed to be black or just shading? I do like the stars; otherwise the design gives a more mature “sexy” air, but the little stars everywhere adds a cute element. The colour palette is pleasing, but as much as I like multicoloured hair it doesn’t grant points this time, because the wiggly stray strands look very out of place here and the colour change makes them even more noticeable. 2/10.

Tot Pop

This one really isn’t my aesthetic, I very much prefer the cutesy style and there isn’t really anything ‘magical girl’ about this design. And it doesn’t really evoke the supposed image of ‘pop star’ to me either, like if you remove the guitar I’d think her theme was a prisoner or halloween. Though I don’t really know what a ‘pop star’ should look like anyway, like can’t they wear anything they want, I know Lady Gaga had a meat dress or something. But as of this design, I don’t think there’s anything specifically wrong with it, the colours are pleasing, the details are consistent and it’s not bland or boring either, but it just doesn’t do much for me because of the theme. I like the blood-stained hair and the spiky hair accessory, the long hanging part makes for a nice silhouette. Meanwhile the skulls on her shoulders feel somewhat tacked on, and in general I don’t care for piercings in anywhere else than ears. 5/10.

Pukin

And it’s a tail again. What is it with the stupid tacked on tails on every other design in this franchise? Sometimes it’s not so badly out of place, like if you have an youthful cutesy design, a fluffy animal tail can still add to the cute effect even if it’s otherwise out of place. But Pukin is supposed to be this dangerous and majestic authority figure and a cutesy tail very much doesn’t fit that image. And while we’re on the topic of animal features, the story describes that she has a feather decoration in her hair, but the way it’s drawn as a tiny feather jutting directly up in the middle of her head gives me more the impression of a character whose theme is a baby bird rather than a fantasy prince.

Now that we’ve dealt with the tail let’s get the biggest issue out of the way: I’m aware that there was a time in history when people used to wear these kind of giant ruffled collars but I really don’t care if there’s some kind of history based reasoning. It looks like your head is on a plate and it’s something I can’t ignore. I don’t feel even clowns can pull that off. There is no way getting around this.

When I first read Limited I thought Pukin’s appearance was an absolute mess and an instant 1/10, but upon closer inspection there is stuff I like about it too. She has a good colour palette, great shoes and gloves, and as a friend of multicoloured hair I welcome the yellow hair tips. The big heavy cape balances the small top and pants, and I really like the fur. Earrings go well with the pants too. The theme is a bit confused, or at least I don’t know of any fairy tales about pumpkin prince, but it’s not like I would complain about pineapple or cauliflower princess so that’s not really a problem. 3/10.

Sonia Bean

And we end Limited with yet another excellent design. I like how this manages to look kind of tattered and messy without actually being gross and dirty with the patchwork dress, dustball-like thingies, newspaper clippings and asymmetry. Even her hair looks disheveled. The headgear gives the design an old-fashioned vibe which suits her well since she’s so old. The light palette, soft design elements and ribbons give the look a cute feel, but at the same time she feels suspiciously pale, and the manic expression screams danger, like you can’t reason with this girl. She’s like a ghost of a Victorian era child who wants to play with you but you know you definitely should not follow her.

The design only works if I don’t think too much about it though, like dust is gross and newspaper paper is crinkly and not soft at all, but since we’re magical girls here I can ignore that and enjoy the image the clothing evokes. 10/10.

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Limited average: 6,9.

#magical girl raising project #mahou shoujo ikusei keikaku #mahoiku #my stuff #ranking #ranking: magical girl raising project

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silverlightqueen · 5 years ago

Text

Teacher’s Pet

‘if I pass this quiz, will you give me your babies?’

little body, big heart masterlist

teacher!seokjin x student!reader - smut, fluff, angst, humour

Word count: 15.9k+

Summary - Peach sets her sights on her new Food and Nutrition teacher, and enlists the help of her friends to seduce him...

Warnings - bad language, mention of drugs and alcohol, teacher x student, age difference, oral sex (m and f receiving), cock-warming (but in her mouth lol), public sex (maybe, idk lol), fingering, degradation, underwear sniffing (lmaooo), gagging, pussy slapping, ‘sir’, I think that’s it, lmk if I’ve missed anything pls

a/n: the first instalment of the ‘little body, big heart’ series !! unedited as usual lmao but I hope y’all like this, and lmk if you wanna be added to the masterlist x

taglist: @jintendoswitch @atulipandarose

silverlightqueen masterlist

‘Peach!’ I hear from behind me, turning to look down the corridor, spotting Daisy and Dream walking towards me. ‘Hey, girls,’ I say as they near me, hugging the two of them. ‘Hey, babe,’ Daisy says, pushing her glasses up to sit stop her head, handbag resting in the crook of her elbow. ‘You’re in Mr Kim’s lesson this morning too, right?’ Dream asks, and I nod, the girl grinning. ‘Good! Let’s go now,’ Dream says excitedly, Daisy rolling her eyes.

‘What for? The lesson doesn’t start for another ten minutes.’ ‘Don’t you wanna get seats together?’ Dream says, and Daisy lets out a gentle laugh. ‘Dream, we’ll get seats together even if we show up late. I’ll make sure of it,’ she replies, before turning on her heel. ‘Let’s go get a drink from the cafeteria,’ she calls over her shoulder, Dream hurrying after her, and I follow behind them both, taking my time.

My shiny black school shoes (with a slight heel on them) squeak against the checked linoleum floor, pastel pink and baby blue. Everything at this school is pastel pink and baby blue; the dormitories, the classrooms, the walls, the floor, the cafeteria, our uniforms. Though, I won’t complain about the uniforms; they are kinda cute.

The pleated check skirt is supposed to be loose and long, but my friends and I have tightened ours, rolling them up so they reach mid-thigh. The white blouse is supposed to be thick and long-sleeved, but my friends and I have thin short-sleeved ones, fitted to accentuate our assets. The pink and blue check blazer is supposed to be long and shapeless, but my friends and I have all cropped ours to our waists and bought a size too small. The white socks are supposed to be knee high and thick, but my friends and I wear ankle socks with a lace frill on them.

Whilst everyone else looks like conservative nuns, we look like we’ve just stepped out of Clueless, and as much as the teachers hate it, there’s nothing they can do; it’s not like we can go and get new clothes from the uniform shop in the city when we’re miles and miles away from it. And it’s not like we have time to travel there, what with lessons on Monday through Saturday, Sunday our only day off.

This school is like a prison. I guess that’s what it is though; a prison for naughty children. It’s a reform school, for anyone in the school years K-12, hence the ridiculously creative name (note my sarcasm there, please). We’re all in the final term of our final year, some of us having been here longer than others. I’ve been here since ninth year, Honey since ninth, Sunshine since tenth, Pearl since ninth, Daisy since eighth, Angel since tenth and Dream since eleventh.

We’ve all been sent here for very different reasons. I was caught shoplifting a designer handbag, and then they discovered my eBay account, selling hundreds of (stolen) designer items that I had stashed under my bed. Honey got into a fight with a girl at her old school and put her into a coma (she’s still in one, apparently). Sunshine was caught doing drugs with her ex-boyfriend. Pearl was caught selling drugs with her ex-boyfriend. Daisy was caught in bed with a boy years older than her (he still phones her sometimes). Angel flunked her ninth year because she ditched every other lesson to see her ex-boyfriend at the school down the road (the other school apparently thought she was one of their students because she was there that often). And Dream failed Chem (her parents are scientists and they took it a little… deep).

That’s our little friendship group, the pretty and popular girls that everyone hates. But we’re honestly not that bad. We can just come across as exclusive, but it’s only because we’re so close. We’re like sisters; we know everything about each other. Well, nearly everything.

We don’t know each other’s’ real names; the school gives all the girls a new name when we arrive, to help with reformation apparently. We’re all called sickly sweet things, like Princess, Buttercup, Honeybun, Sweetie. You name it, someone’s called it. They’re supposed to reflect the way we should behave; ladylike, elegant and graceful (what’s elegant about Peach, I don’t know, but whatever). The boys don’t have to have new names though. It’s just one of the very many double standards at this school. I think being out in the countryside means it’s light-years behind the rest of society. Our friendship group has changed that a little bit, though.

Some of the girls have boyfriends (which is totally against the rules), prompting some of the other girls in our year to do the same. Some of us have piercings and tattoos and false nails (don’t ask how Daisy managed to sneak in piercing and tattoo equipment). Honey smuggled hair-dye in with her, one colour for each of us (my hair’s peach, Honey’s is honey-blonde, Sunshine’s is bright blonde, Pearl’s is a silvery-grey, Daisy’s is a baby blue, Angel’s is platinum blonde and Dream’s is baby pink). Daisy brought loads of alcohol and Pearl brought loads of drugs, so we all get drunk or high every Saturday. If anything, the school’s made us worse.

As we enter the cafeteria, Sunshine and Angel call our names, waving at us from where they’re sat on our usual table in the corner with their boyfriends, Hoseok and Taehyung, and their boyfriends’ friends, Yoongi, Namjoon, Jimin and Jungkook. We head over to say hi, Daisy strutting over with her head held high, attempting to catch Jimin’s eye.

They’ve been on and off since Daisy arrived in eighth year (the boys have all been here since seventh year after they set their school on fire at the end of sixth year), but he’s come back after the holiday with a new girlfriend, much to Daisy’s dismay. It seems he still fancies her though, his eyes glued to her as we near the table.

‘Hey, guys,’ I say, everyone greeting us in return. ‘What do you guys have this morning?’ Angel asks, leaning against Taehyung. ‘Food and Nutrition with Mr Kim. What about you?’ Dream asks. ‘We’ve all got a free lesson. How amazing is that? I’m so having a lie-in every Monday morning,’ Sunshine says. ‘That’s so not fair,’ Daisy complains, voice a little softer in front of Jimin. ‘You shouldn’t have chosen such a terrible subject then,’ Namjoon says evenly, and I roll my eyes. ‘It’s not terrible; the old teacher was. Maybe Mr Kim will be better,’ I muse, the boys laughing.

‘What?’ Dream asks, and Hoseok raises an eyebrow. ‘Have you not seen him?’ he asks, all of us shaking our heads. ‘Let’s just say, you won’t be doing that much learning in his lesson. You’ll be too busy staring at his face,’ Hoseok says, and Daisy raises an eyebrow. ‘Is he good-looking?’ she asks, the boys nodding. ‘Someone needs to tell Mr Kim to watch out. Daisy’ll be trying to seduce him,’ Yoongi says, everyone laughing. ‘I do have a thing for older men,’ Daisy jokes, referring to her ‘reform’ story, as the school calls it (everyone is required to share their reform story with their first class on their first day), and we all burst out laughing, save for Jimin who looks less than amused.

‘I’m going to get a drink. Anyone want anything?’ Daisy asks, and I nod. ‘I’ll have my usual, please,’ I say, Dream asking for her usual too. Daisy sashays towards where the lunch ladies serve food, Jimin’s eyes watching her retreating figure. As soon as they spot her walking over, they plaster big smiles on their faces. No one wants to get on Daisy’s bad side; I feel sorry for Jimin’s girlfriend.

‘Where’re the other two of your little gang? Pearl and Honey?’ Namjoon asks. ‘Pearl doesn’t arrive ‘til tomorrow, and Honey had a 9am with Mrs Lee,’ Dream explains, the boys nodding. Dream’s fit into our group really well, becoming the innocent little baby that our group never head. I’m the mum friend, Honey’s the ‘will fight you if you’re rude to her friends’ friend, Sunshine’s the sunshine of the group (her name’s fitting), Pearl’s the clever friend, Daisy’s the promiscuous and glamorous troublemaker and Angel’s the romantic drama queen. We’re all so different, and that’s what brings us together.

‘I know I’ve said this before, but I love the hair, Peach. I’ve been thinking of going that colour soon,’ Taehyung says, and I smile. ‘Thanks, Tae. I’ve got some spare dye if you want it,’ I say, and Angel whines. ‘No, baby, I love your hair the way it is. The blue suits you,’ she says, and he rolls his eyes. ‘I’ve had it blue for months. It’s time for a change. I’ll have that dye if you don’t mind, Peach. When my roots start to show,’ Taehyung says, and I nod as Angel pouts, Daisy returning with our drinks.

I have a caramel frappe, Daisy has a mango and passionfruit smoothie and Dream has an iced vanilla latte. ‘Come on, let’s head to lesson. We’ll be late otherwise,’ I say, Daisy groaning, and I shake my head. ‘No, come on, no complaining. It’s our first day back, we can’t be late. Let’s go,’ I say firmly, ever the responsible friend, and we bid goodbye to our friends before heading to Mr Kim’s lesson.

We walk down the corridor, people parting for us to get through, as Daisy and Dream gossip about the latest scandal at the school (apparently Kai cheated on his girlfriend, Crystal, with the new girl, Dumpling), and I just listen, sipping on my drink. When we reach the lesson, there’s a minute left until 10.30 and the classroom is completely full. Daisy, eyes set on the desks at the back of the room, whispers, ‘watch this,’ to Dream and I.

Now, Daisy’s not a mean girl. But she’s manipulative. Where anyone else would go and tell those people to move from their seats, Daisy takes a different approach. ‘Oh, no. You were right, Dream, we should’ve come earlier. Now we can’t even sit together, let alone at the back like we wanted to,’ she whines loudly, lips pouted and eyes wide.

Instantly, the boy sat in the back middle seat gets up and prompts his friend in front of him and his friend to the left of him to do the same. ‘Here you go, ladies,’ he says, eyes on Daisy, who giggles, placing a hand on his chest as she passes him, taking his seat. I sit in the seat in front of Daisy, Dream sitting beside her, watching as the boys make the people in the row in front of us move so they can sit in those seats.

I’m placing my books and stationery onto the table when the door opens and the teacher walks in, the class falling completely silent as the door falls shut. I look up, intrigued at this man that the boys said is good-looking, and I have to actively stop my mouth from falling open. ‘Good morning, class. I’m Mr Kim, your new Food and Nutrition teacher. Sorry I’m late, I got a little lost. I’ll make sure I’m here before you all next week.’

He’s beautiful, his skin fair and clear, hair dark and swept back, revealing a slice of his forehead and dark eyebrows, lips plump and pink and glasses covering his chocolate brown eyes. He’s tall with wide shoulders, complemented by his black suit. ‘It’s lovely to meet you all. I thought we could begin today’s lesson with introductions rather than getting started with content straight away,’ he says as he sets himself up at the teacher’s desk at the front of the room, my eyes glued to him.

‘Peach,’ I hear Daisy hiss from behind me, and I turn to look at her, her face covered in shock when she spots the blush on my cheeks. ‘I was gonna ask if you think he’s hot, but you obviously do,’ she whispers with a smirk, and I feel my blush deepen, turning to face the front once more.

‘Let’s start with the introductions. I’d like to hear all of your names, and your… reform stories? That’s what the school calls them, right?’ he asks, all of us nodding. We go around the room, from front to back, Mr Kim listening with interest to all of the stories. When he reaches me, I will my voice not to crack, and I hear Daisy whisper, ‘confidence,’ from behind me.

‘Hi, Mr Kim. I’m Peach,’ I say, sounding like a different person to my own ears. It’s almost like Daisy’s possessed me or something. ‘Hi, Peach. I like the hair,’ he replies with a small smile, and I feel a rush of satisfaction at his words. ‘Thank you, Sir. I like yours too. Anyway,’ I say, not giving anyone enough time to dwell on my compliment to him before I move on, ‘I was sent here because I was caught shoplifting a Saint Laurent bag. And then my parents found all the other designer stuff hidden under my bed that I was reselling on eBay to make enough money to go to Glastonbury.’ Mr Kim looks like he’s trying not to laugh, nodding with a smile on his face. ‘Okay, well, it’s nice to meet you, Peach,’ he replies before moving onto the next student.

When he reaches Dream (complimenting her hair too – the compliment he gave me seems a little less genuine now), she says, ‘I failed Chem and my parents were angry because they both have Chemistry degrees,’ and he lets out a gentle laugh. ‘Oh, gosh. Well, the only thing you’re here for is to improve your Chemistry grade, right?’ he asks, and she nods. ‘I was great at Food and Nutrition, sir.’ ‘That’s perfect. Makes my life easier,’ he says, before moving on to Daisy.

‘Hi, Mr Kim. I’m Daisy,’ she flirts, and he smiles at her, already sussing out the kind of person she is. I try not to feel jealous, knowing Daisy’s a natural flirt, but the smile he gives her makes my heart twist with envy. Grow up, Peach. ‘Hi, Daisy,’ he replies amusedly, and she pouts. ‘Sir, you complimented Peach and Dream’s hair. Don’t you like mine?’ she asks teasingly, and he laughs. ‘I can’t be seen encouraging behaviour that is extremely against the rules. But, off the record, yes, Daisy, I do like your hair,’ he replies with a grin, and I know the girl is preening from the praise without even turning to look at her.

‘Thanks, sir. Anyway, I’m here because the teachers caught me having sex with a high school senior in the school changing rooms. When I was in seventh year,’ she says, the grin audible in her voice, and Mr Kim’s cheeks and ears blush slightly as she speaks. I know Daisy’s over the moon about having this effect on him, the smugness clear in her tone. For some reason, Daisy brags about her reform story, when it’s very clearly statutory rape. ‘Well, that’s an interesting one, Daisy,’ he replies, voice slightly strained, and Daisy grins. ‘I’m an interesting girl, sir,’ she replies, Mr Kim nodding before moving on to the last person in class.

The lesson continues, not eventful in the slightest, but I can’t help but chew on my pen as I listen to him speak, the plastic mangled by the time we’re halfway through the lesson. He’s just so captivating, the unique way in which he laughs, how he’s got such a broad and intimidating build but seems so… sweet and kind, how beautiful his face is.

As part of the curriculum for Food and Nutrition, we have to learn about drugs and alcohol, and how they can be detrimental to your health, and when Mr Kim starts talking about this part of the topic, Daisy decides it’s time to disrupt the lesson. ‘Marijuana’s terrible if you’re trying to lose weight, Sir,’ she says solemnly, the man turning to look at her amusedly. ‘And why’s that, Daisy?’ ‘Well, I don’t know about everyone, but it gives me the munchies. I eat everything in sight,’ she says lightly, everyone laughing at her open admission to smoking weed. To our brand-new teacher.

‘I’m not sure this is something you should be discussing with your teacher, Daisy,’ he says with thinly veiled amusement, failing to hold back the smile from his face. ‘It’s fine, Sir. You’re no snitch… right?’ she says softly, almost threateningly, and Mr Kim seems to pick up on that, shaking his head. ‘I was a kid once too, Daisy, not long ago,’ he replies.

‘How long ago, Sir?’ I ask, and he smiles at me. ‘Is that a polite way of asking how old I am?’ he asks, and I nod shyly, laughing. ‘I’m 22, so I would have been your age four years ago. Gosh, that makes me feel old,’ he says, and we all let out disagreements, various ways of telling him he’s not old. ‘Sir, you’re the youngest teacher here. And the hottest. Old people aren’t hot,’ Daisy says shamelessly, Mr Kim blushing slightly again.

‘Thank you, Daisy,’ he replies, slightly stiffly. ‘No problem, Sir. You should hang out with us sometime,’ Daisy says, and he shakes his head with a smile. ‘That would be ridiculously against the rules. But thank you for the offer. Maybe at your end of year prom?’ he suggests, all of us nodding. ‘Now, anyway. Let’s get back on track,’ he says, continuing with the boring content of the lesson.

As soon as he sets us the first written task, Daisy kicks the back of my chair, gentle conversation beginning around the room. ‘You’ve so got a crush on him,’ Daisy teases, and I roll my eyes. ‘Why were you flirting with him then?’ I hiss, and she laughs. ‘Babe, come on, you know I’m not interested in him. There’s only one guy on my mind,’ she replies, and I deadpan her. ‘Okay. So why?’ I ask again, and she shakes her head.

‘I was sussing him out, Peach. Trying to get a feel for him, and whether or not he’s your type,’ she replies, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘And is he?’ ‘Totally. And he’d so go for you, too. See how much he was blushing when I spoke about my reform story? It means he was thinking about me having sex. If he can think about a student having sex and blush from it, then he can have sex with a student,’ Daisy says, and my eyes widen.

‘I don’t wanna have sex with him!’ I hiss, and she raises an eyebrow at me. ‘Girl, you don’t have to lie to me. Back me up here, Dream.’ ‘Yeah, Peach, it’s totally okay if you do. People always have crushes on their teachers, especially if they’re so good-looking,’ she replies, and I roll my eyes. ‘Okay, but would you advise me to if the opportunity arose?’ I ask, and Dream hesitates.

‘I wouldn’t advise you against it, because we’re already at a naughty school. What’s the worst they can do?’ she says, Daisy nodding in agreement. ‘You should so go for it. Try to seduce him. Yes, he might be a teacher, but he’s a young one, basically a boy. He won’t be immune to a bit of feminine charm,’ Daisy says, and I shake my head at her disapprovingly.

‘Oh, come on, don’t act all high and mighty. We’re at the same reform school, for God’s sake, you’re no better than me,’ she says, and I supress a laugh. ‘We’re here for very different reasons, Daisy,’ I point out, and she waves a hand in the air. ‘Promiscuity, stealing, failing Chem, it’s basically all the same thing,’ she says, Dream and I exchanging an amused glance.

‘Whatever you say, Daisy. The point is that you may feel comfortable to seduce a teacher, but I am not,’ I say firmly, and she rolls her eyes. ‘What’s the worst that could happen? They tell your parents? Wow,’ she says scornfully, and I shake my head at her. ‘It’s not happening,’ I say, and she purses her lips. ‘Spoilsport,’ she says, just as the door opens.

I turn to face the front, watching as one of the deputy headteachers, Mr Song, walks in. ‘Mr Kim,’ he says by way of greeting, not giving Mr Kim a chance to speak before he continues, ‘I thought you might like to know that I’ve been watching this classroom on the CCTV and those three young ladies at the back of the room haven’t done a single bit of work since you turned your back. I’d advise you separate them, or move them to the front of the room where you can keep an eye on their work.’ Daisy sighs as I internally groan, Mr Kim turning to look at three of us with a disappointed look on his face.

‘Thank you, Sir,’ Mr Kim replies stiffly, and I can’t meet his gaze, feeling ridiculously guilty. Not only have we disrespected him as a teacher, we’ve made him look like he can’t control his own class. In his first lesson. Mr Song leaves, Daisy sticking her middle finger up at the door as it closes, and Mr Kim sighs.

‘Girls… move to the front row, please,’ he says, Daisy groaning. ‘But Mr Kim-’ ‘No. Don’t argue with me. Move,’ he says sternly, the three of us collecting up our things and swapping seats with the people in the front row. Daisy pushes me towards the middle seat, right in front of Mr Kim’s desk, and I try not to blush as she grins at me.

I pull my glasses out of my bag, putting them on and beginning to write, and after a couple minutes, I hear Dream sniffling to my left. ‘Dream? You okay?’ I whisper, the girl looking up at me with watery eyes. ‘Yeah, I just… I just don’t like getting in trouble,’ she whispers back, my heart melting. ‘Here,’ I say, getting a tissue out of my bag and handing it to her, and she gives me a smile. ‘Let’s go the cafeteria together after lesson. We’ll get milk and cookies. My treat,’ I say, and she gives me a wide smile. ‘Thanks, Peach.’ ‘No problem, babe. Don’t be sad,’ I reply before going back to my work.

Time flies as I write pages and pages, and when the bell rings, I’m surprised the lesson’s already finished. ‘No homework for today, students, just make sure you remember the content we went over this lesson. See you next week,’ Mr Kim says as we all start packing up. ‘Sorry about earlier, Mr Kim,’ I say as I leave, and he smiles at me. ‘No problem, Peach. Just make sure you work next week,’ he says, and I nod with a smile. ‘Bye, Mr Kim.’ ‘Bye, Peach.’

As soon as I leave the room, I sigh dreamily, Daisy and Dream laughing at me. ‘You’re so into him,’ Dream says, and I smile. ‘Maybe,’ I reply in a sing-song voice. ‘Oh, shit,’ Daisy says, stopping dead in the corridor. ‘What?’ Dream and I chorus, turning to look at her. ‘You left your book. On your table. You should go get it.’ ‘I have my book.’ ‘I took it out of your bag,’ she says with a smirk, and I sigh, my body going cold.

‘Daisy, you need to stop meddling! You go get it!’ I say, and she shakes her head. ‘We’ll be waiting in the cafeteria for you. Milk and cookies will be my treat,’ she says, linking an arm through Dream’s and dragging her down the corridor. I sigh, heading back to the classroom with shaking hands and my stomach turning. I knock on the door, hearing Mr Kim call out, ‘come in!’ I open the door slowly, popping my head through first, and he smiles at me.

‘Peach. Back again so soon? You loved learning about drugs and alcohol that much?’ he teases, and I laugh. ‘I knew enough about those anyway,’ I say as I step into the room, and he laughs. ‘Well, what gives me the pleasure of your presence?’ he asks, leaning back in his chair, and my breath hitches in my throat. ‘I, um, left my book on my desk,’ I say, his eyes landing on the textbook sat atop my desk. ‘Forgetful?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘Embarrassingly so,’ I reply, walking to pick up my book and tucking it into my handbag.

‘Whilst you’re here, Peach,’ he begins, and I turn to look at him. ‘Yes, Sir?’ ‘Was today’s lesson okay? Should I carry on like this?’ he asks, and I debate whether or not to tell the truth. ‘Well, Sir, I won’t lie, it was good, but maybe you should make them a little more interactive. Maybe with, like, quizzes, or group discussions, or something like that. Just to engage us a bit more, or some of us will switch off,’ I say, and he nods. ‘Okay. Thank you, Peach,’ he says with a smile. ‘No problem, Sir,’ I reply, and he reaches into his briefcase.

‘Here. I saw you give Dream a tissue when she was upset. I felt terrible. Take these. One for you, one for Dream, and one for Daisy,’ he says, holding out three pink lollipops. ‘Daisy?’ I ask with a raised eyebrow, and he laughs. ‘I have no doubt I’ll hear all about it if I didn’t give her one. She’s outspoken, that one,’ he says, and I laugh. ‘You don’t say so. Imagine what’s been like for me, being best friends with her for nearly three years. It’s like having a daughter,’ I say, and he laughs.

‘I take it you’re the mum friend then,’ he says, and I nod with a sigh. ‘A mum to six other girls. Honey, Sunshine, Pearl, Daisy, Angel and Dream,’ I list off, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘I don’t think I can get used to hearing names like that,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Trust me, it’ll take a while. They’re honestly terrible. Everything here is terrible,’ I complain, and he raises his hands in a ‘surrender’ motion.

‘I’m not saying anything. I need this job. My wife will kill me if I lose it,’ he says, his words like a punch to my stomach. His face drops when he registers his words, and the room is silent for a moment. ‘Well, anyway. Here you are, Peach,’ he says with a smile, handing me the lollipops. ‘Thanks, Mr Kim,’ I reply, trying to ignore the spark I feel when my hand touches his, drawing my hand away and tucking the lollipops into my bag. ‘See you later, Sir,’ I say, heading towards the door. ‘Bye, Peach,’ I hear him call after me as I leave, the door falling shut between us.

The moment I enter the cafeteria, lollipop in mouth, Dream calls my name, beckoning me over to our corner. Dream and Daisy are both there, along with Pearl, Honey, Yoongi and Jungkook. ‘Is that lollipop from Mr Kim?’ Daisy asks as soon as I’m in earshot, and I nod with a smirk. ‘Ooh, really?’ Dream asks, taking a sip of her milk. ‘Yeah. He gave me one each for you guys too,’ I say, pulling the two other lollipops out of my bag and handing them one each. ‘Aw, he’s sweet,’ Daisy says with a knowing glance, and I roll my eyes amusedly before turning to Pearl and Honey.

‘Hey, girls,’ I say, both of them greeting me in return as we hug. ‘Sunshine and Angel?’ I ask. ‘12’o’clock with Mr Choi,’ Honey replies. ‘So what did you talk about with Mr Kim?’ Daisy asks, lollipop between her fingers. ‘The lesson. And then how terrible the school is. And then he mentioned that he has a wife,’ I say, Daisy and Dream’s mouths falling open. ‘Well. That puts a spanner in the works,’ Daisy says distractedly, lost in her scheming thoughts.

‘Wait, what? What’s going on?’ Honey asks confusedly, and I sigh. ‘Daisy’s trying to get me with our new Food and Nutrition teacher,’ I say tiredly, Honey, Jungkook and Yoongi bursting into laughter as Pearl looks at us in shock. ‘Daisy, are you insane? Not only would you be absolutely ruining his career, it would get Peach into loads of trouble!’ Pearl exclaims, and Daisy rolls her eyes.

‘Pearl, babe, you worry too much. It’s totally fine. No one will find out,’ Daisy says, and Pearl raises an eyebrow. ‘You can’t guarantee that, Daisy. I know you guys never listen to my advice, but I’m telling you, this is not a good idea,’ Pearl says seriously, and Daisy waves her off. ‘Come on, Pearl, let’s be real. It’s not gonna happen anyway. It’s just a joke,’ she says, a glint in her eye, and I know she’s up to something. ‘Wait, it’s a joke? I thought you were being serious,’ Dream says, and Daisy shrugs elegantly.

‘I was, before I realised Peach would never do that. She hasn’t got the guts,’ she says challengingly, and I roll my eyes, the rest of the group looking between us interestedly. ‘Come on, Daisy, you know your manipulation doesn’t ever work on me,’ I reply, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘I’m not trying to manipulate you. I’m telling the truth. I’m also telling the truth when I say that I don’t think you could do it,’ she says, and I raise an eyebrow in return. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, if Mr Kim would get with a student, it wouldn’t be you,’ Daisy says, and I feel a pang of hurt. ‘Daisy, don’t be nasty,’ Pearl says, and Daisy rolls her eyes. ‘You know I don’t mean it like that. Peach is hot, we all know that. Right?’ Daisy asks Jungkook and Yoongi, who both nod instantly. ‘See? But she’s too… nice, too angelic. Teachers are never interested in the nice kids, and Peach could never play the role of the bad girl,’ she says, a daring sparkle in her dark eyes, and I narrow my eyes at her.

‘Daisy, I’m a drama student. Top of the class. I’m also a thief at a reform school,’ I reply, and Honey nods. ‘Exactly. Peach could act, but she doesn’t have to. She has the bad girl in her already. What she did is probably the worst out of all of us. No offence,’ Honey says. ‘None taken.’ ‘The point is that Peach is more than capable of playing the bad girl, but it doesn’t mean she should,’ Pearl says, and Daisy laughs. ‘How can I believe you without sufficient evidence?’ Daisy asks, and I roll my eyes.

‘Daisy, I love you, but you’re so childish sometimes. You think your manipulation will work on me? I’m not going to start acting up in his lesson to prove some point to you. I could get him without turning into a bad girl anyway,’ I grin, Pearl sighing. She knows her advice was useless; we won’t listen to it. ‘You think so?’ Daisy challenges, and I nod. ‘How, Peach?’ Dream asks, and I let out a little laugh. ‘Teacher’s pet.’

‘Teacher’s pet?’ Jungkook asks, and I nod. ‘I sit at the front of the lesson, attentive and hard-working. I show up early to lessons and stay late afterwards, asking if he needs help with anything. I ask him to do extra sessions with me. The more time I spend alone with him, the more likely he is to succumb,’ I say simply. ‘God, you’re good, Peach,’ Yoongi says, and I smile serenely, watching as Daisy thinks. ‘I don’t agree.’ ‘I don’t care. It’s not like I’m gonna do it anyway. I’m just telling you how I would if I did.’ ‘My method’s better.’ ‘No, Daisy, mine is, and you know it.’

‘Prove it,’ she says gently with a grin. ‘You try your method, and I try mine. We’ll see who’s more successful,’ she says, our eyes locked together as I think over her challenge in my head. It wouldn’t kill me… right? ‘You’re on,’ I reply, and Pearl groans as the others let out various noises of excitement and interest. ‘May the best girl win,’ Daisy grins, holding a hand out to me, and I shake it firmly. ‘Trust me,’ I say with a smile, ‘she will.’

‘Oh! Peach. Goodness, you scared me,’ Mr Kim says from the door. ‘Sorry, Mr Kim. I just… with our old teacher, I used to get here early and help her set up. I used to write the date on the board and tidy up if she needed me to. I thought you might like it if I did the same for you,’ I say softly, and he smiles at me. ‘That’s really nice of you, Peach. I’d appreciate that a lot, thank you,’ he says, and I smile back. ‘No problem, Sir,’ I reply.

I’m perched on his desk, phone in hand, and I watch as his eyes spot it. He doesn’t tell me to put it away. Instead his eyes travel over the rest of me, and I know exactly what he’s looking at. I spent a while looking at it myself this morning. The top two buttons of my shirt are open, revealing an ample amount of my chest, and my skirt is even higher than normal, skimming the tops of my thighs. My hair is up in a ponytail and I’ve put on a little more makeup than usual, glossy lips, shiny cheekbones, dark eyes. When his eyes meet mine, I grin and he blushes slightly. God, he’s so cute.

‘Do you have any chalk, Sir? So I can write the date?’ I ask, and he nods, putting his briefcase down on the table beside where I’m sat, opening it and rummaging around for chalk. When he finds it, he hands it to me and I take it from him, making sure my nails gently scrape against his hand as I take it. ‘Thank you, Sir,’ I say before walking around to the other side of the desk.

I check my phone for the date and write it slowly, not hearing any motion from behind me, and I know he’s watching me, probably noting how my skirt barely covers my ass. I take my time writing it, and only when I’m writing the last number do I hear him moving around, smirking to myself.

‘Okay, I’m done with the date, Sir. What else can I do?’ I ask before I drop the chalk (on purpose) and then sneakily kick it behind me. ‘Oh, God. So clumsy,’ I mutter to myself before turning around and bending over to pick it up, giving him a full view of my lacy pink underwear. When I turn back around, his eyes are on the floor and his ears are bright red, the sight making me satisfied that I’ve achieved the desired effect.

‘Sir?’ I ask again, and he coughs, looking up at me again. ‘Sorry. Um, can you… put one of each of these handouts on each desk please?’ he says, giving me a pile of different worksheets. ‘Yes, Sir,’ I say, taking the pile from him and starting to hand them out. By the time I’m done, he’s sat at his desk, glasses on and eyes focused on his laptop. ‘Done with those, Sir,’ I say, putting the spares on the desk, and he looks up at me with a smile.

‘Thank you, Peach. No problem, Sir. Anything else?’ I ask, and he shakes his head. ‘That’s it for now. You can go to the cafeteria for a while if you’d like,’ he says, and I shake my head. ‘Lesson starts in ten, I might as well just wait,’ I say, taking my seat at the front of the room and getting all of my things out and beginning to write the date into my book.

I’m practically lying across the desk, giving him a clear view down my shirt, and I know he’s enjoying it, his fingers no longer typing. Once I’ve done that, I go back on my phone, my classmates arriving one by one. Daisy and Dream walk in last, drinks in their hands. Daisy gives a smirk when she sees me, Dream’s eyes widening.

‘Peach, you look really good!’ Dream exclaims, and I smile. ‘Thanks, Dream. Nothing on you two though,’ I reply, and Daisy grins. ‘Looking like that, Peach, I want to be on you,’ Daisy says, and I let out a gentle laugh. ‘Bold of you to assume you’d top, babe,’ I reply, and she raises an eyebrow with an amused grin. ‘I love it when you talk dirty to me,’ she replies.

‘Ladies, I’m not sure this conversation is appropriate,’ Mr Kim says, voice strained and stiff, ears and cheeks red. ‘Are you being homophobic, Sir?’ Daisy asks mildly, and Mr Kim laughs. ‘Not at all. You girls can get up to whatever you want to in your free time, but I think it best you don’t discuss your activities in my lesson,’ he says amusedly, and Daisy nods, replying with, ‘fair enough.’

‘Take your seats, ladies, and we’ll begin,’ he says, and Daisy and Dream sit down on either side of me, Dream handing me a drink, my usual, as she passes by. ‘Are you allowed to have drinks in lessons?’ Mr Kim asks. ‘No, Sir,’ Daisy replies before taking a sip of her drink. ‘Noted,’ he replies amusedly before he begins the lesson.

Daisy doesn’t give him a chance to get through a single full sentence, constantly interrupting with witty one-liners, dirty jokes and double entendres. At first, Mr Kim is amused, but I can see his patience beginning to wear thin. Whereas, with me answering every question correctly, he doesn’t look at me once without smiling. Daisy’s losing this game, and we both know it, the girl scowling when he sternly tells her to stop interrupting the lesson. I shoot her a grin and she rolls her eyes, knowing full well who’s in the lead.

I also notice that he took my advice on board, starting a group discussion about the components of a realistic balanced diet, and doing a little quiz towards the end of the lesson. I get the highest score, both Daisy and Dream one mark below me, and Mr Kim gives me a lollipop as a prize. He seems to regret it a few moments later when I’m sat directly in front of him, leaning over my desk and writing with the lollipop in my mouth, trying desperately to focus his eyes elsewhere.

When we reach the end of the lesson, he sets us a 4 mark question, a very kind homework compared to all of my other subjects. When he dismisses everybody, I stay behind, waiting until the door’s fallen shut before I speak. ‘Today’s lesson was great, Sir. Better than last week,’ I say, and he smiles. ‘Thank you, Peach, that’s good to hear. I’ll continue the lessons like this then,’ he says, and I nod.

‘Sounds good. How are you finding it here, Sir?’ I ask, and he shrugs. ‘It’s okay. My room’s decent and all of my classes are nice enough. It’s just…’ he trails off. ‘Homesick?’ I ask, and he laughs. ‘Not quite. It’s the food,’ he says, and I laugh. ‘The food’s not that bad,’ I say, and he shudders. ‘Peach, I’m a Food and Nutrition teacher. I’ve been on dozens of culinary courses. Believe me when I tell you that the food here is not that good,’ he says, and I’m surprised to hear how passionate he is about cooking.

‘Are you a really good cook then, Sir?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘You’ve gotta let us try some of your cooking sometime,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘Definitely. I’ll bring some of my baking in at one point. But for now, you’ll have to make do with the food from the cafeteria.’ ‘Honestly, Sir, if you order the right things, the food’s kinda nice. They do this cake sometimes – god, it’s to die for. I’ll bring you some next time they’re doing it,’ I say, and he nods with a smile. ‘That’d be great, Peach.’

‘Well, I’m gonna head off, unless you need me to do anything?’ I ask, and he thinks for a moment before shaking his head. ‘Nope, you’re free to go,’ he smiles, and I smile back. ‘Okay, Sir. See you next week,’ I say. ‘Bye, Peach,’ he says as I head to the door, and I hear him let out a long drawn out sigh as I shut the door behind me.

Dream and Daisy are waiting for me a little further down the corridor and I grin as I walk towards them, a little pep in my walk. Dream smiles at me affectionately and I throw my arms around them both. ‘Isn’t it just a great day, guys?’ I say happily, Dream nodding with a grin, and Daisy grumbles under her breath. ‘Relax, you haven’t won yet,’ she says to me, and I laugh.

‘Yeah, and you haven’t either. And I’m pretty sure you won’t. But we can keep this going if that’s what you want,’ I say, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘Are you sure? I will be stepping it up next week,’ she says, and I laugh. ‘So will I, babe, don’t you worry,’ I say, and she grins at me. ‘I can’t wait to see what both of you do next week. Now, come on, it’s a nice day, let’s go sit outside for a little while,’ Dream suggests.

‘Good idea. Let’s stop at the cafeteria on the way and get Honey and Pearl. And the boys, if any of them are there,’ Daisy says. Five minutes later, us five girls are sunbathing on the grassy bank beside where the football pitch is, Yoongi, Namjoon, Jimin and Jungkook all playing football. We gossip idly, Honey playing music from her phone, and the atmosphere is so nice. The sun beats down onto us, a very gentle breeze cooling us down, and the sky is a bright blue, fluffy white clouds dotted around.

‘Daisy,’ Pearl says, interrupting the current discussion about Queen and whether or not she’s dating Daniel. ‘Yeah?’ Daisy replies without opening her eyes, lying on her back. ‘What’s that on your neck?’ Pearl asks slowly, and we all look at Daisy’s neck, spotting the purplish bruise disrupting her smooth and clear skin.

‘Oh. I forgot to tell you guys. Jimin stopped at my room last night,’ she says with a smirk, all of us gasping. ‘So he’s broken up with that little girlfriend of his?’ Honey asks, and Pearl gives her a disapproving look for referring to the girl like that. ‘Apparently so. I told you I’d get him back,’ she says smugly, and I shake my head. ‘You official with him?’ Honey asks, and Daisy scoffs. ‘We’ve never been official, and we never will be. You know that’s not how we work,’ Daisy replies, all of us rolling our eyes.

‘I wonder if he knows that you’re trying to get with Mr Kim,’ I say, and she sits up, rolling her eyes. ‘Of course he knows. All the boys know about our challenge. They placed bets and everything,’ she says, and my mouth falls open. ‘This is news to me,’ I say, and she grins. ‘Well, Jungkook and Yoongi were there when we first discussed our… competition, and it’s not like they’d keep their mouths shut about something so interesting. Of course they were gonna tell the other boys,’ Daisy says, and I sigh, annoyed that the boys know about something like this.

If it got out that Daisy and I were doing this, I can’t even imagine the trouble we’d get into. ‘Why’d you look so troubled, Peach? Got an issue with the boys knowing about it? Because we can call it off if you want,’ Daisy smirks at me, and I roll my eyes, wanting to knock the girl off her high horse. ‘No, I’m just worried about you. It won’t be good for your pride for the boys to see you lose to me,’ I say, Daisy rolling her eyes in return. ‘We’ll see.’ ‘We will.’

‘Ladies, how are we all on this fine day?’ Hoseok says as he throws himself down onto the grass beside us, the other boys following suit. ‘We’re good. Just discussing Peach and Daisy’s bet, dare, competition thing,’ Dream says, and I shoot her a look, the girl grinning mischievously in response, prompting me to stick my tongue out at her. ‘Oh, yeah, Yoongi mentioned it to me. Sounds interesting,’ Namjoon says, the boys all nodding in agreement.

‘I’m assuming this competition thing is the reason behind your new look, Peach,’ Jimin says, and I nod. ‘I just hope this look works because I don’t want to be hoeing it up every Monday for no reason,’ I say, everyone laughing. ‘Well, I certainly like this look of yours, Peach. Mr Kim must be either insane or a monk if it doesn’t work,’ Taehyung says with a flirty smirk and a sparkle in his eye.

We’re all more than used to Taehyung’s flirty nature (though Jimin can put him to shame if he’s in the mood), but I still can’t help but glance over to Angel to see her reaction. It used to really bother her when her boyfriend flirted with her friends, regardless of it being jokey, but she’s gotten used to it over time. She’s lying on her back, enjoying the sun with her eyes closed, obviously only half paying attention to the conversation.

‘Thanks, Tae. I just… don’t you feel like it’s too much? I feel like a cheap whore,’ I say, Pearl making a disapproving noise. ‘Stop feeding into misogynistic ideas about women, Peach,’ she says, but before I can reply, the boys all start talking. ‘No, Peach, you look good.’ ‘You don’t look like a whore at all.’ ‘You could definitely get away with another button open if you wanted to.’ ‘Don’t be silly, Peach, other girls do way more than you.’ ‘You look like this look is unintentional.’ ‘It’s sexy, Peach, not whorish at all.’

‘Thanks guys,’ I say, just as Pearls breaks into a coughing fit. ‘You okay?’ Honey asks, hitting her on the back. ‘I’m fine. Just allergic to all the misogyny that just came out of all of their mouths,’ she says drily, us girls laughing as the boys all shake their heads and roll their eyes.

‘Get used to it, Pearl. It’s never going to change,’ Namjoon says, and Pearl narrows her eyes at him. ‘Not if people like you exist,’ she says, and I can sense an argument brewing between the two of them. They’ve always had a tense relationship, having been competing with each other academically since Pearl started in ninth year and threatened Namjoon’s place at the top of the class in all of the subjects they have together.

‘Anyway. Should I carry on with this look then?’ I ask, and everyone nods. ‘I think you should have this look every day, Peach, not just Mondays. Let the rest of us appreciate it too,’ Jimin says with a small grin, eyes piercing and hooded, and I have to fight to not sound breathless when I reply, ‘I’ll consider it.’

Daisy looks between us amusedly; she’s never felt threatened by Jimin’s flirting because she knows that whilst she might not own his eyes (which wander all the time), her name is written across his heart. He’s hers and everybody knows it. God help the person that gets between them. ‘If you do, Peach, you’ll practically own any boy at this school. Maybe even some of the girls too,’ Yoongi jokes, all of laughing.

‘We all know that if Peach were to get with a girl, it would be me,’ Daisy says confidently, and I roll my eyes, though I’m not quite sure whether it’s a lie or not. We played truth or dare a couple years ago, and she was dared to kiss me. Let’s just say, I’ve seen her kiss Jimin the same way, just before they disappear to one of their dorms. And I didn’t exactly dislike it either.

‘Aren’t you gonna deny it, Peach?’ Taehyung asks after a few moments of my silence, licking his lips with a glint in his eye. ‘Why would I deny it? I’m not a liar,’ I say serenely, hunger practically emanating from the boys. Daisy winks at me from across the group and I grin back, the boys watching with desperate interest, the girls completely unbothered; they’re used to Daisy flirting with all of us.

‘Well, Peach, if you ever wanna join Daisy and I, you know where to find us. Or if Daisy’s busy, you know where to find me,’ Jimin says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Down, boy,’ I reply, everyone laughing as Jimin grins. ‘I don’t mind spectating,’ he says, and Daisy rolls her eyes. ‘Not for free, babe.’ ‘So I’m guessing,’ Yoongi begins with a playful grin, ‘you’re gonna say no to the rest of us watching too?’

‘Morning, Peach,’ Mr Kim says when he enters the classroom. ‘Morning, Sir. How was your weekend?’ I ask, with a smile. I’m sat on his desk, just like every Monday, and I’m dressed provocatively, just like every Monday. Short skirt, unbuttoned shirt, pretty bra visible through my shirt and pants visible when I bend over, peach hair up in a ponytail and just a little bit of makeup.

‘It was good, thank you, Peach. I went home on Friday night and I just arrived back this morning,’ he says with a smile, putting his briefcase down onto the desk beside where I sit. Just like every Monday, he opens his briefcase and pulls out a lollipop, handing it to me, and I grin back at him. And just like every Monday, I reach into my bag and hand him a piece of cake wrapped up in foil, and he takes it with a smile. His hands linger on mine for a moment, eyes locked, before he pulls his hands away, putting the cake into his briefcase without looking at me.

‘That must have been nice, Sir. How’s Mrs Kim?’ I ask, noting the way he blinks a few times, just as he does whenever I say her name. ‘She’s… she’s okay,’ he replies, and I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘That doesn’t sound very convincing. Less and less convincing each week, Sir,’ I say, and he lets out a gentle laugh. ‘It’s difficult, Peach. Married life is difficult. You’ll understand one day,’ he says, and I pull a face.

‘Me? Getting married? You must be crazy, Sir,’ I say, kissing my teeth, and Mr Kim bursts out laughing. ‘Why not, Peach? Marriage is a beautiful thing.’ ‘Oh, yeah, sure seems beautiful, based on the way you sigh and frown whenever I bring up your wife,’ I say sarcastically, and the smile disappears from Mr Kim’s face, the man looking down at his briefcase unseeingly.

‘No, marriage isn’t for me. I’d rather travel the world with my friends and have a string of glamorous love affairs that I can one day tell my friends’ kids about,’ I say, and Mr Kim laughs. ‘Where will you get the money from for this, Peach?’ he asks, and I grin. ‘How I was planning to get my money for Glastonbury,’ I say with a wink at him. He laughs, shaking his head, ears reddening slightly.

‘Well, I hope these plans work out for you, Peach. If I ever meet a man whose heart was broken by a mysterious beautiful girl with peach hair, I’ll tell him he was lucky to have even met you in the first place,’ he says, my heart warming at his kind words, and my cheeks warming at hearing him call me beautiful. ‘Thanks, Sir,’ I say shyly, and he laughs. ‘Oh, don’t act all coy now,’ he chuckles, trying to act cool but his reddened ears betraying him, before moving around to the other side of his desk.

Just like every Monday, I take the chalk out of his briefcase and go around to the blackboard. I write up the date, my ass mere centimetres from the back of Mr Kim’s head. Still thinking about what he just said, I’m distracted, and so the chalk slips between my fingers. ‘Butterfingers,’ Mr Kim teases when he hears the chalk hit the floor, and I laugh as I bend down to grab it. My ass hits the back of his seat, and I fall forward from the impact.

Mr Kim spins around, a worried look on his face, and I burst out laughing at myself crumpled up on the floor, the man joining in too. ‘Come on,’ he says, getting up from his seat and tucking it in so he has space to pull me up from the floor. He holds out a hand to me and I take it, his other hand wrapping around my waist as he helps me up. ‘You’re so clumsy, Peach,’ he says, hands still around me, his eyes unwaveringly locked with mine.

For a moment, just a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me, our heads moving closer together as my lips part, and my heart rate rockets. And then there’s a knock at the door. We instantly jump apart from one another, and I quickly grab a stack of worksheets on the desk. ‘Come in!’ Mr Kim calls, his voice slightly shaky, as I begin to walk around the classroom, putting one worksheet on each desk.

One of the deputies, Mrs Lee, walks in, bidding me good morning before talking to Mr Kim about some stupid briefing this Wednesday. What feels like a million years later, she finally leaves, and I turn to look at Mr Kim with a grin, the teacher smiling back at me.

The rest of my class starts arriving then, and I take my seat at the front, writing up the date in my book. When Daisy and Dream arrive, Dream hands me my drink and we idly chat about the upcoming prom, mere weeks away, until Mr Kim begins the lesson. It seems that Daisy’s given up on our competition, having gotten bored after four weeks. Now, two and a half months after I first met Mr Kim, it’s no longer about the competition for me.

I get on with him so well, and he’s so kind. I’m doing so well in this class, better than I’ve ever done it in before, and I find it so fun, because he’s the one teaching it to me. Whenever I get an answer right, or raise my hand to ask a question, or even just make eye contact with him, he gives me this smile, and my heart melts every time. Our conversations before and after class are the highlights of my week, and when we catch each other in the corridor, I replay the moment in my head over and over again. He’s just so… mature, and he really gets me.

I think I’m slowly falling in love with him.

The lesson flies by in a blur of shy glances, gentle smiles, subtle touches and locked eyes, and when everyone leaves, I stay behind, just like every Monday. ‘Sir,’ I say, and he smiles at me. ‘Yes, Peach?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘Um, it might not be my place to say this, but I feel like you’re not really close with any of the other teachers, so I don’t think you’ve got anyone to talk to, and I thought you might want to get it off your chest, so I wanted to ask what’s going on with your wife?’ I say all in one breath, and the smile slowly disappears from Mr Kim’s face as I speak.

He sighs, taking off his glasses, and leaning back in his seat as he pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘Oh, Peach,’ he says tiredly, and my heart jumps. ‘Sir, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business. I’ll just get go-’ ‘No, Peach, it’s okay,’ he says, getting up from behind his desk and coming to sit in Daisy’s seat beside me.

‘You’re right, Peach. I’m not close with any of the teachers, and I don’t have anyone to confide in. but that doesn’t mean I should confide in you,’ he says gently, and I sigh. ‘Sir, can we be honest here?’ I ask, and he nods, though he looks slightly nervous. ‘Our relationship is already pushing the boundaries. And you and I both know that this isn’t accidental. It’s intentional, on my part. And you haven’t rebuffed my advances once. You’ve encouraged them. And we’re both in the wrong, you and I both know that.’

He sighs, sitting back in his seat. ‘But it’s wrong, Peach. It’s so wrong,’ he says, and I laugh humourlessly. ‘It doesn’t feel wrong. But we’ve already slightly broken the rules. Why not just go all the way?’ I ask, and his eyes lock with mine, his tongue poking at his cheek. ‘What are you saying?’ ‘You know what I’m saying. But, wait. We’ll come back to that. Tell me about your wife first. You need to get it off your chest. I can tell it’s affecting you.’

He’s silent for a few seconds before he finally speaks. ‘We were so happy, so in love. And then I started teaching here. And I met you on my very first day. And my first night sleeping here, instead of thinking of her, I thought of you. The girl with the peach hair. I was thinking about my wife less and less, and you more and more. And then… the first time I went home to visit her, after a few weeks of working here, and we had sex, I…’ he trails off, and I know exactly what the rest of the sentence is. I was thinking of you.

My heart is nearly beating out of my chest at his confession, and I’m trying not to jump up and celebrate. ‘You’re just… you’re so grown up, Peach, and I see you as an equal rather than as my student. You just… you get me. And you’re beautiful, Peach, you’d have to be blind not to see that,’ he says, and I blush, unable to believe my ears. He likes me too. He really likes me too.

‘And my wife knows that there’s someone else. I don’t know how, but she knows,’ he says, stress written all over his face. ‘Women always know,’ I reply, and he nods. ‘Yeah. She knows. So she confronted me about it on the weekend. Because she said I’ve been distant, that I’ve been avoiding sex, that I’ve been coming home less than I promised I would, that I never text or call her. And she asked who the woman is. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it isn’t even an affair, and it’s just a crush that has me like this,’ he says.

‘So… so what are you gonna do now? What did you tell her?’ ‘I lied. I said there’s no one else. That I’m just busy and stressed, but she knows. Anyway, she said she wants to work on us, she wants to try and fall in love again, like the way we were before. We’re high school sweethearts, you see, and I proposed to her fresh out of uni. We got married a few months later, and only three months after that, I started here. Maybe we rushed into it, because now… I’ve fallen out of love with her.’

I’m in complete shock. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. But I know I can’t let this pass me by. He feels the same way. I have to seize the moment.

‘Sir, I… I really like you. And you really like me. I don’t… I’m not seeing an issue here,’ I say, and he laughs humourlessly. ‘Peach, you don’t even know how much I wish I could agree. But I’m married. I’m your teacher. If we were found out, I’d lose my job, and I’d never be able to teach again,’ he says, and I sigh.

‘Mr Kim, no one would ever know. I won’t breathe a word, and neither will you,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘I… what are you suggesting, Peach?’ he asks, and I feel a rush of excitement that he’s actually considering it. ‘I mean… I don’t think we’d get away with you coming to my room. But I could go to yours. We could say that you’re tutoring me,’ I suggest, and he thinks for a moment.

‘Give… give me some time to consider this, Peach. Because I need… I need to consider whether or not this is worth it,’ he says, and I frown. ‘You don’t think I’m worth it?’ I ask, and his face falls. ‘No, Peach, that’s not… that’s not what I’m saying. You know what I mean,’ he says, and I stand up. ‘No, Sir, I’m not sure that I do. Forget I said anything,’ I say, and he gets up too, panic on his face.

‘Let’s discuss this, Peach, don’t leave,’ he says as I begin gathering up my things. ‘I think it’s best that I do,’ I say, brushing past him and leaving the room. When the door falls shut, I grin to myself, knowing my plan will just fall into place now, and I join my friends who wait for me in the corridor. ‘Did it work?’ Dream asks and I smile. ‘We’ll see.’

‘Peach! Peach!’ I hear Angel calling from behind me, and we turn to see her rushing towards us with Sunshine, the boys following leisurely behind them. ‘What? What’s happened?’ I ask when she reaches us, and she grins. ‘The whole school is talking about you. It worked,’ she says, and I grin. ‘I told you it would,’ Daisy says, and I roll my eyes.

‘I came up with the plan,’ I say, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘Half of the plan. And I lent you my man to enact this plan,’ she says, and I laugh. ‘Come, let’s go sit outside,’ Taehyung says when the boys reach our group, and we all head out to our usual spot outside, where we can talk freely with no one eavesdropping.

‘I’ve had loads of people asking me this morning if it’s true,’ Jimin says as I sit down beside Dream, the girl instantly resting her head on my thigh. ‘What did you say?’ ‘I didn’t say yes, and I didn’t say no. I was just laughing, or I said that ‘a gentleman never tells’ or some stupid shit like that,’ he says, and we all laugh.

‘It was genius, Peach. It happened exactly the way you said it would,’ Hoseok says, Sunshine’s head against his shoulder and his arm around her waist. ‘Let’s just hope it gets back to Mr Kim,’ Namjoon says, and Honey scoffs. ‘Of course it will. The whole school is talking about it. You don’t think he’ll hear people in his classes talking about how Peach slept with her best friend’s man?’ she says with a raised eyebrow.

‘What if he doesn’t buy it, though? He knows Peach well enough to know that that’s something she’d never do,’ Dream says, and Yoongi sighs. ‘Yeah, but we never thought Peach would try to seduce a teacher, and here we are,’ he says, and I frown at him. I don’t like it when they say I’m trying to seduce him. This isn’t just about sex. This is something more. I can’t tell them that, though. They wouldn’t understand.

‘And, anyway, I think that a group of people seeing Peach sneaking out of Jimin’s room at like two in the morning, wearing his clothes with her hair a mess and her mascara streaming down her face means that it’s more than likely people will believe it,’ Pearl says drily, and we all laugh, blood rushing to my face.

‘What did you guys actually do?’ Jungkook asks, and Jimin smirks. ‘Guess,’ he says with a grin in my direction, and I roll my eyes. ‘We chose suitable clothes of his for me to wear for when I left, messed up my hair and smudged my makeup across my face,’ I say, and Pearl narrows her eyes at me. ‘For like four hours?’ she asks, and Jimin grins at me. ‘And we played scrabble,’ I say, the others bursting out laughing.

‘Scrabble? Is that a euphemism for something?’ Taehyung asks, and Jimin shakes his head, still grinning. ‘We sat there, on my bed, and played scrabble for three hours,’ he says, and Daisy looks between us. ‘Who won?’ she asks. ‘Peach,’ he admits straight away, and I smile proudly. ‘Of course I did. He wanted to play strip scrabble,’ I say, Daisy swatting at him amusedly as the others laugh.

‘Yeah, so we compromised,’ he says mysteriously, our friends looking intrigued as I roll my eyes at Jimin. ‘We played dirty scrabble.’ ‘Dirty scrabble?’ Namjoon asks interestedly. ‘Scrabble with dirty words only. I’d have gotten bored otherwise. But I was surprised at how… vast Peach’s vocabulary is,’ Jimin says with another smirk at me, and I feel my face heating again.

‘You out-dirtied Jimin?’ Namjoon asks, the whole group looking surprised, and I nod with a small smile. ‘Our Peach is a dark horse,’ Daisy grins at me, and I grin back. ‘Okay, I hate to change the subject, but, like… what are you guys gonna do now?’ Yoongi asks, directing the question at Daisy and I. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘I mean, you supposedly slept with her man. Shouldn’t Daisy act like she’s angry at you?’ Yoongi says, and I shrug.

‘It’s fine. Look how many rumours there have been; we haven’t let those affect our friendships, because we know they aren’t real,’ I say, and Yoongi shakes his head. ‘But you want people to believe this one, surely?’ ‘It’s fine. As long as Mr Kim has heard the rumour, that’s all that matters,’ I say, and Pearl raises an eyebrow. ‘So what happens now then? What is your plan after this?’ she asks, and I hesitate for a moment.

‘I don’t know yet,’ I lie, not wanting them all to know. I only need to tell two people; nobody else needs to know. And I think it’s best to keep this as quiet as possible. Because it’s where things start to get serious.

So, hours later, in the literal dead of night, I sneak out of my room, praying no one sees me. When I reach my destination, I knock carefully on the door, making sure it’s not loud enough for anyone else to hear. The door opens a few seconds later, and a cosy Jungkook stands on the other side of it, dressed in his pyjamas with his hair a fluffy mess. ‘Peach?’ he asks but I shush him, pushing past him into the front hallway.

‘I need your help,’ I say once he’s shut the door, and he looks confusedly at me. ‘My help? What with?’ he asks, just as Yoongi pops his head in from the bedroom. ‘Peach?’ ‘I need your help too.’ ‘Come sit in here,’ Yoongi says, turning back into the bedroom. Jungkook and I follow behind, and I take a moment to look around their room.

It’s neat and tidy, very minimalistic, with two beds a few feet apart from each other, a TV mounted on the wall, and several computer screens set up on a desk, a game paused on one of them. ‘What’s up, Peach? Is everything okay?’ Jungkook asks, concerned. ‘Everything’s fine. It’s not, like, serious. I just need your guys’ help. But… no one else can know,’ I say, both of them raising their eyes. ‘Um…’ Yoongi says, and I sigh.

‘Please? I swear, it’s not that bad. I just… I need you guys to not tell anyone,’ I say, and Jungkook sighs. ‘I won’t say anything,’ he says before both of us look to Yoongi. ‘Fine, I won’t either. Now, what is it?’ Yoongi asks, and I grin.

‘You know how there’s a camera in every classroom?’ I say, both of them nodding. ‘I need you guys to disable to one in Mr Kim’s classroom,’ I say, both of their eyes widening. ‘You’re kidding?’ Jungkook asks, and I shake my head. ‘I’m not. I just…’ I begin, but Yoongi waves me off. ‘You don’t need to explain; we’re not stupid, we know exactly why you want us to disable the cameras.’

‘But… won’t they realise straight away? If the camera isn’t working, they’ll just get someone to fix it,’ Jungkook says, and I sigh. ‘I only need it disabled up until Monday’s lesson.’ ‘I’ve got an idea. What if… instead of disabling the camera… we loop the footage from last week?’ Yoongi says, directing the question to Jungkook. ‘Good idea. But how?’ Jungkook asks, and Yoongi laughs. ‘Don’t act like we haven’t hacked into the school cameras before.’

‘Yeah, but we did that to delete footage. Not loop it,’ Jungkook says, and Yoongi raises an eyebrow. ‘It’s not like we won’t be able to do it, we’re practically experts after years of computer science. It might take a while, but it’s night time, so it’s not like anyone will notice that we’re messing around with the systems. We can take as long as we need. Let’s at least give it a go,’ Yoongi says, and Jungkook hesitates before sighing.

‘Fine, let’s do it. But I’m gonna need snacks,’ he says, and I grin, holding up the bag in my hand. ‘I came prepared,’ I say, both of them grinning. ‘Won’t your roommate notice you’re gone?’ Jungkook asks, and I shake my head. ‘If Angel can sleep through Taehyung’s sleep-talking, sleep-walking and cuddling, she can sleep through anything. That girl needs a foghorn to wake her up,’ I say, both of them laughing. ‘Right, then,’ Yoongi says, ‘let’s get to it.’

The boys spend the entire night at the desk, hacking into the school’s CCTV systems and looping the footage, whilst I watch You on Netflix, nap, and hand them snacks and drinks as and when they need them. The boys finish at sunrise, Jungkook instantly crawling into his bed and passing out as Yoongi shows me what they’ve done.

‘So, long story short, the footage from the past week is looped. It will keep playing again and again until someone realises and changes it, but I doubt anyone will notice it for a long time. So you’re free to do whatever you want in that classroom without it being caught on camera. I’ll keep checking up on it to make sure it hasn’t been discovered,’ he says. ‘Thank you, Yoongi, you’re the best. And tell Jungkook I said thanks to him too,’ I say, both of us looking at him fast asleep on his bed.

‘Yeah, of course. Just shout us whenever you need help with anything. And, don’t worry, we won’t mention anything to anyone. Now, you go, get some sleep. I think the others were saying they want to spend the day at the football pitch today so make sure you’re there, and not looking tired, or they’ll suspect something,’ he says, and my heart warms at his kindness.

‘Okay, Yoongi. See you later. And thanks, again, for your help,’ I say, and he grins. ‘It’s cool. Just make sure that you fill us in on whatever happens with Mr Kim tomorrow. If anything does happen, that is,’ he says mischievously, and I grin. ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ I grin back, ‘there’ll be plenty to tell.’

‘Peach? Do you mind staying behind please?’ Mr Kim says as I begin to walk towards the door with Daisy and Dream, and I grin to myself before I turn back to him sullenly. He waits for everyone to leave the room before he speaks. ‘Take a seat,’ he says, and I scowl. ‘I’d rather stand.’ ‘Peach, don’t be like that. Please, just sit down,’ he says and, with as much attitude as possible, I sit down in my seat.

‘Why weren’t you here at the beginning of the lesson?’ he asks, looking concerned, and I laugh humourlessly. ‘I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted,’ I reply, and he looks so pained. I actually feel a little guilty. ‘Peach, come on. You know that that wasn’t what I meant last week. I’m just worried about the consequences. I could lose my job,’ he says, and I roll my eyes.

‘No one would ever find out,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘I know you wouldn’t say anything, Peach, but that’s not to say that nobody will find out. Someone could just walk in at any moment,’ he says, and I look at the door. ‘There’s a lock,’ I say, and he sighs again. ‘The camera?’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘What if I told you I’ve taken care of it?’ I say carefully, and his eyes widen. ‘Please tell me you’re joking,’ he says, grabbing on to his temples. ‘I’d be lying if I did. Sir, I’m serious about this,’ I say, and he’s silent for a few moments, head in his hands.

I take the silence as my opportunity. ‘What if I persuade you, Sir?’ I ask, and he looks up at me, only his eyes uncovered by his hands. ‘Pardon?’ he asks, voice muffled, and I get up from my seat, slowly walking to the door. ‘I said… what if I persuade you?’ I say, leaning against the door, Mr Kim’s eyes on my fingers as they turn the lock. ‘Peach,’ he says in a strained voice, and I know it’s working, my heart beating so fast.

‘Sir, stop stressing, for just a minute. You worry too much,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘It’s in my nature,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘It was in mine too. And then I realised life’s too short to worry about everything. I didn’t worry about stealing designer things to sell so I could go to Glastonbury, and I’m glad I didn’t worry about it,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow at me.

‘You’re glad?’ ‘Yes, I’m glad. Because of it, I’m away from my stupid parents, at a school with a group of people that I love. And I’ve met you,’ I say, and he just stares at me, face unreadable. ‘Life’s too short to worry,’ I repeat, and I can practically see the battle between his head and his heart. His heart seems to win.

‘Persuade me then,’ he whispers, the words nearly making me cry from happiness. ‘Pardon?’ I ask, wanting to hear him say the words again. ‘I said, persuade me then,’ he says, all the stress and worry suddenly disappearing, a small smirk now on his face. Taking my time, I walk over to him, joining him behind the desk, and I grab on to his tie. He grins at me as I pull him up from his seat, before looking over at the camera.

‘Are you sure you handled it?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘Want proof?’ I ask, and he nods. I grab my phone out of my bra, his eyes lingering on the curves of my breasts as I dial Yoongi’s number, putting the phone on loudspeaker. ‘Hey, Peach,’ he says, his voice ringing out into the room. ‘Can you check the camera for me?’ I ask, and he lets out a gentle laugh before I hear some movement and then some typing.

‘According to the camera, Mr Kim is sat at his desk, marking. No one else is in the room,’ he says, and I grin at Mr Kim who looks shocked. ‘Okay. Thanks, Yoongi, you’re the best,’ I say, and he laughs again. ‘No problem. Have fun,’ he says amusedly before the phone cuts off. ‘Does he know?’ Mr Kim asks, and I shrug. ‘I haven’t said anything to him about why I wanted the camera hacked, but he’s probably worked it out. He won’t say anything,’ I say, Mr Kim nodding, obviously slightly nervous.

‘Stop worrying. It’s okay,’ I say gently before I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down towards me. I close my eyes and wait for him to kiss me. When I feel his soft lips brush against mine, I supress a celebratory shout, instantly pulling him closer to me.

Within moments, the kiss has gone from tame and innocent, to passionate and desperate. His hands furiously trail up and down my body, our mouths moving in sync. He pushes his tongue between my lips, and I sigh into his mouth at the feeling. He wraps his hands into my hair and accidently tugs it, but I let out a gentle moan against his lips.

‘Fuck. Fuck, you like that?’ he asks, mouth still pressed against mine, and I nod. He pulls my hair again, this time harder, and I moan again, the sound obviously driving him crazy. He pulls away from me and lifts me up to sit on his desk before his lips attach to mine again. I wrap my legs around him, sitting on the edge of the desk so that our bodies are completely pressed up against each other.

I can feel how hard he is, his bulge pressed against my upper thigh, and a surge of confidence makes me palm him through his trousers. ‘Fuck, Peach,’ he groans, the sounding making me let out a shaky breath. ‘Can I… can I do something?’ I ask against his mouth, pulling away a few moments later. ‘Do what?’ he asks, and I grin.

‘I want your lollipop,’ I joke, and he laughs. ‘I’ve got some in my briefcase,’ he jokes, and I raise an eyebrow, holding back a laugh. ‘I want the one in your trousers instead,’ I say, looking up at him through my lashes, and his eyes darken, a smile on his face. ‘Who am I to deprive my best student?’ he says lowly, and I grin.

I get up from the desk, grabbing his tie again and walking backwards around the desk. I sit down in his seat, and he grins down at me. ‘Authority suits you. You look good in that chair,’ he says, and I let out a gentle laugh. 'I’ll look even better when I’ve got your dick in my mouth,’ I say lightly, and he chokes, coaxing a laugh out of me. ‘Let’s test that then,’ he says, and I grin. ‘Gladly.’

I pull down the zip of his trousers, purposely scraping my nails against his bulge. I push his trousers down just to the tops of his trousers, and his underwear goes down with them. His length, hard and red, springs up and slaps against his clothed stomach, and I try not to actually salivate. He’s long and thick, smooth with a prominent vein running along the underside, and his head is swollen, already leaking with precum.

My tongue darts out to wet my lip before I spit on my hands, Mr Kim watching me with interest. Gently, I place my hands on his length and run them up and down the shaft, revelling in pride from hearing the hitch in his breath. I lean forward, tentatively licking the precum from his tip, looking up at him with big eyes, and he groans. ‘God, Peach, you’re so fucking sexy,’ he breathes out, just before I sink my mouth down around him until he hits the back of my throat.

His hips buck up, pushing down my throat, and I gag around him, as he moans. I take a moment to compose myself before I start bobbing my head up and down his cock. ‘Yes, Peach, God, that feels so good,’ he grunts, gathering my hair into his hands and holding it back from my mouth. I lick along his vein, hands cupping his balls, before I swirl my tongue around his head.

‘You suck dick like a pro,’ he breathes out, and I grin up at him. ‘Thank you,’ I say before sinking my mouth back down onto his length. Obviously he’s getting close, moans and curses falling frequently from between his plump lips, and it’s as though he can’t control himself, starting to thrust into my mouth. I grip onto his strong thighs as he rams into my mouth, forcing himself further and further down my throat with each thrust. And then there’s a knock on the door.

Mr Kim panics, but my brain engages instantly. I pull boxers and trousers back up, quickly zipping him up, before I push him towards the door and hide myself under his desk. Mr Kim takes a couple deep breaths before he unlocks and opens the door, and I hold a hand over myself to stop the loud breathing.

‘Mr Kim. Why was the door locked?’ a voice asks, and I recognise it straight away. Mrs Choi, the strictest deputy headteacher. ‘Somebody kept pushing it open and running away, and it was annoying me, Mrs Choi,’ Mr Kim replies instantly, and I’m impressed at how quickly he thought of that reply. ‘Oh. Well, I need to speak to you about something. Let’s sit,’ she says, and I hear her enter the room, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. Her feet are mere inches from where I’m sat on the floor, only a wooden panel separating us.

Mr Kim takes his seat opposite her, slotting his legs around either side of me, and my head is centimetres from his crotch. The idea forms in my mind straight away, and I grin to myself, adrenaline running through my body.

‘What would you like to speak about, Mrs Choi?’ Mr Kim asks, just as I rest my hands on his knees. His body tenses beneath my hands, before relaxing a few moments later. ‘I’d actually like to speak to you about your twelfth-year class,’ she says, and I move my hands further up his legs. ‘Are you finding any problems with them?’ she asks, as I unzip his trousers as slowly and quietly as possible.

‘Um, no. They’re a fantastic group. High ability and a pleasure to teach,’ he says, voice tense. I’m not surprised, considering I’m pulling his still rock-hard dick out of his underwear as I unbutton my blouse so that if he looks down, he’ll get an eyeful of my boobs, spilling out of my bra. ‘Is that so? No problems at all?’ she asks as I lean forward and put my mouth around his head, staying still once I’ve done so. ‘No, Mrs Choi, none,’ he replies, hands finding my shoulders. I wait for him to push me away, but he surprises me, pulling me closer to him so that my mouth sinks all the way down onto his cock.

‘Really? I’m surprised to hear that. Am I mistaken in thinking you have Daisy, Peach and Dream in your class?’ she asks, and I try not to react at hearing my name from her mouth. ‘No, you are not mistaken,’ he replies, hands on my neck, holding me still, and I realise what he’s doing. He’s turned the tables back on to me. Instead of me torturing him beneath the desk, he’s torturing me, forcing me to hold his cock in my mouth with no movement.

‘And they don’t cause you any problems?’ she asks. ‘No, they’re brilliant students. Engaged in the lesson, intelligent, hard-working, helpful. They’re a lovely group of girls,’ he says, and Mrs Choi is silent, obviously surprised. ‘I must say, I’m shocked to hear you think so, especially of Daisy. We’ve had issues with her since she arrived. Dream and Peach, not as much, but still. They’re all part of the worst friendship group in the school. Their friendship group is the root of nearly all problems within their year group.’ Lovely.

‘That’s surprising to hear. I’ve never had any issues with them. A little talkative at times, but nothing more. They’re on track to achieve the best grades in the class,’ he says, and my heart swells at hearing him speak about us like this when no teacher ever has before. ‘That’s pleasing to hear. They must really like you, Mr Kim,’ Mrs Choi says, and Mr Kim lets out a gentle laugh. ‘I’d like to think they do,’ he says, and it’s obvious he’s thinking about the fact that one of the students must definitely like him because she’s under the table with his dick in her mouth.

‘Well, as it’s reaching the end of their time at the school, we’re looking for… a valedictorian, of sorts. A student, or even multiple, to give a speech at their end-of-year prom. Do you have any recommendations?’ she asks, and I’m curious to hear what he has to say. ‘Any of the three girls. Dream, Daisy or Peach. Or all three of them,’ he says instantly, and my heart warms. ‘That’s not the first recommendation I’ve had for those girls and the rest of their friends. It’s obvious they’re popular with the staff, despite being troublemakers,’ she says, almost fondly, and I think back to all the times we’ve been shouted at in Mrs Choi’s office. Now that I think about it, we almost always have a lecture from her, almost like the lectures you get from your mother. She must have a soft spot for us. Bless her.

‘Well, thank you for your recommendations, Mr Kim. We’ll definitely take them into consideration. I will leave you to your marking now,’ she says, her chair scraping against the floor as she gets up. I hope she doesn’t point out my belongings sat on my desk. ‘Thank you, Mrs Choi. See you later,’ Mr Kim says, and she bids him goodbye before leaving.

As soon as the door shuts behind her, I’m taking him as far down my throat as possible, and he stifles a moan. ‘Let me lock the door, Peach,’ he breathes out, hands weakly trying to push me off, but I ignore him, wanting to make him cum as soon as possible. ‘Fuck, Peach, someone could come in,’ he says pleadingly, but his words are broken up by moans, and I know that the thought of someone entering is turning him on even more, because it’s not long before his cock is twitching in my mouth.

‘Fuck, Peach, I’m gonna cum,’ he groans, and I pull him out of my mouth. I tug at his length with one hand, playing with his balls with the other, and his orgasm hits him within seconds. He throws his head back, face scrunching up, as his hands tighten on my shoulders. He lets out a long, drawn out moan of my name as his hot cum spurts out of the tip, covering my chin, neck and breasts. It’s as though he hasn’t cum properly in a while, depositing an endless amount over my face.

He looks down at me once he’s done, cursing under his breath at the sight of me. I gather some of his release up from my chin and lick it off my finger, the man biting his lip at the sight. ‘Sorry. I don’t usually cum so quick,’ he says sheepishly, moving back and helping me get up from under the desk. ‘It’s okay. I have that effect,’ I joke, and his eyes darken. ‘Oh. So did you have the effect on Park Jimin?’ he asks, and I nearly scream aloud, so glad that he’s brought it up (I really thought I’d put in all that effort for nothing).

He makes me sit on the desk in front of him, and he spreads my legs, making me rest my feet on his armrests. ‘I asked you a question,’ he says, eyes on my soaked pants. ‘I, um… who told you about that?’ I say, and he scoffs. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I was going to hear about it. Everyone was talking about it. Peach sleeping with her best friend’s man,’ he says, looking up at me disdainfully.

‘Are you that desperate for cock? That desperate you’d sleep with Daisy’s man?’ he says, and I stay silent, biting on my bottom lip. ‘Go on, speak. I’m sure you had a lot to say with Jimin’s dick in your pussy, huh? Or did he shut you up with his cock in your mouth? Fucking whore,’ he says, landing a harsh slap on my clothed heat, and I whine at the feeling.

He hooks a finger around my pants and pulls, ripping the flimsy material off me and holding it up to his nose. ‘Fuck. You’re so wet,’ he says, looking at my dripping wet core as he puts the ripped material down on the desk beside him. ‘Only for you, Sir,’ I whimper, and he groans. ‘Fucking slut. I bet it’s for Jimin. I bet you’ve been thinking about having him inside you again, huh?’ he says, and I shake my head. ‘I’ve only been thinking about you. I thought about you while I was with him,’ I whisper, and he looks up at me with dark, dilated eyes.

‘Is that so? Well, what were you thinking about?’ he asks, and I bite my lip. ‘Your pretty lips on my pussy,’ I breathe out, and he groans again. ‘God, you’re so fucking sexy. Let me give you what you want then,’ he says, and I spread my legs even more, leaning back on my hands and shuffling forward so I teeter on the edge of his desk. I’m so close to his face that I can feel his breaths hit my core. ‘Please, Sir,’ I whimper, and he grins at me before he leans forward a licks a bold stripe across my pussy.

I let out a pathetic sigh, my head falling back as he licks at my core slowly, tongue lapping at my slit languorously, dipping his muscle between my folds every few seconds, sending mind-numbing shocks through me. ‘Fuck, you taste so good. So fucking sweet,’ he praises as I let out a small moan, legs curling around his shoulders to pull him closer.

Without warning, he attaches his lips to my clit, sucking and tugging on the bundle of nerves, and my back arches as I throw my head back, broken moans falling from my lips. ‘Stay still, whore,’ he warns harshly, the words against my heat making me shiver as one of his arms snakes around my waist, tightly holding me in place. His other hand scoops some of his cum from my breasts before joining his head between my legs, rubbing the cum onto my clit as more moans escape me.

‘Please, Sir, I want your fingers,’ I plead and he chuckles before slowly pushing one finger between my folds. ‘So tight, baby. Am I not turning you on?’ he asks, plunging another finger in, forcing another moan out of me. ‘How will I get my cock in? At this rate, I won’t even fit another finger into this tight little cunt,’ he says, still with his lips wrapped around my clit and his two fingers slowly pumping in and out of me.

Gradually, he increases his pace, adding another finger in, his mouth still working wonders at my clit. I can feel my orgasm building up, moans falling more frequently from my mouth. He only increases his pace more and more, until his fingers pump in and out furiously fast, his tongue licking up and down my folds before pulling on my clit with his lips.

My hands, threaded into his soft, dark locks, pull him closer and closer to my core, and I can feel myself fast approaching the edge. He curls his fingers into me, hitting the soft spongy spot inside me, and I let out a particularly loud whine. ‘Fuck, Mr Kim, right there, please,’ I whine, and he freezes. ‘Fuck, you’ll make me cum again if you call me Mr Kim. Here,’ he says, pulling his tie off and stuffing it into my mouth before going back to his ministrations.

I can feel myself tumbling towards the edge, pleasure coursing through my veins as I let out muffled moans. ‘Come on, I can feel you’re close, Peach. Fucking cum for me,’ he whispers and, when he curls his fingers and pulls on my clit at the same time, I finally reach my climax. I curse and moan, all of it muffled by the tie, as my orgasm washes over me, back arching.

Once I’ve come down from my high, he licks my release up as I pull his tie out of my mouth before holding his fingers out to me, and I lick them clean as he watches with a smug smirk, lips swollen and shining. ‘That was so fucking hot,’ he says as I hop down from his desk. I pick up my pants and tuck them into his chest pocket with a grin before smoothing down my skirt and rebuttoning my blouse, the man watching as I do so.

‘Wait, are we not going to…?’ he trails off, and I look over to see that he’s already hard again. Very hard. ‘I’ll come to your room,’ I say as I pull some tissues out of me bag, cleaning his cum off my face. ‘But I’m…’ he says, looking down at his length, and I hold back a laugh, putting some powder on my face and pulling on a hoodie.

‘You left me hanging a week. You can deal with a few hours,’ I say, slipping out of the room before he can even formulate a response. I walk down the corridor, unable to wipe the smile off my face, nearly skipping all the way out to the grass where I know my friends will be waiting for me. Honey, Pearl, Daisy, Dream, Namjoon, Jimin, Yoongi and Jungkook are all lazing around on the grass, instantly perking up when they spot me.

‘So?’ Honey asks excitedly when I reach them, and I grin. ‘Mission accomplished,’ I say, pulling a spare pair of pants out of my bag and pulling them on underneath my skirt. ‘Wow. He kept your underwear?’ Jimin asks, and I nod with a smirk. ‘Had he heard about you and Jimin?’ Dream asks, and I nod again. ‘He was so mad,’ I grin, all of them laughing as Jimin smirks.

‘Well, damn it, Peach, I didn’t think you would, but you did. You really had sex with a teacher. You won the competition. Good on you, girl,’ Daisy says, and I grin at her. ‘Well, I didn’t really have sex with him. I just… sucked him off. And then he ate me out,’ I say, and Daisy frowns, everyone else looking confused. ‘You should’ve fucked him,’ she says, and I shrug.

‘I’ll fuck him when I go to his room tonight,’ I say, the girls squealing as the boys (and Pearl) look at me incredulously. ‘Wait, you’re really leaving him this long before you fuck him? God, you’re evil, Peach,’ Namjoon says, and I smile smugly. ‘Peach, fucking in a classroom is one thing, but going to his room? You’re asking for trouble,’ Pearl says disapprovingly, and I shrug with a grin.

‘You know what, Pearl? Maybe I am.’

#bts #bts series #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts au #bts angst #bts smut #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts humour #kim seokjin #bts seokjin #bts kim seokjin #bts jin fanfiction #bts jin #bts jin fanfic #seokjin #ficswithluv #smutcentralnet

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cyoza · 5 years ago

Note

Thank you so much for the last fic! I thoroughly enjoyed the angst. Are you still taking prompts? I’d love anything fluff for Dickkory! 😊

not to sound too stephanie meyer but i had a dream the other day about being married to dick grayson so it kinda inspired this. it’s also kind of an offshoot of the last fic i did.

i’m english so i’ve had to go uniform shopping every year whilst i was in school until i got to sixth form and it always made my mom cry cos honestly it signifies your kid getting older so that’s what i’ve tried to do here (also every odd question asked by mar’i is something my 7 year old sister has asked at some point haha)

sorry for the long note! thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy! (i’m also reclaiming mommy and daddy from those who don’t deserve it)

‘Daddy!’

Dick barely had time to set down his satchel before he was almost knocked back through the frame of the front door by the dark haired bundle that crashed into his knees before they clutched tightly to him.

‘Hi, little bug.’ He chuckled as he unlatched her from his knees and lifted her to settle on his hip, kicking the door closed as he did so.

His heart swelled as it always did when she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

‘How was your day, Daddy?’ She asked sweetly.

‘Good, baby. What did you and Mommy do today?’

‘We went to the store and we got my uniform and Mommy said that I couldn’t have anything else but then she let me get a sparkly pillow and when you rub it one way, it’s one colour and when you rub it another way it goes another colour and it’s all shiny and pretty. And then mommy bought me a red bow so I can match my uniform-’

‘Mar’i, baby. Why don’t you let Daddy breathe for a little bit, okay?’ Kory’s tired voice called from the hallway as she made her way from Mar’i’s room into the living room. She’d taken to wearing exclusively leggings ever since she’d had Mar’i and she was clad in a dark grey pair coupled with one of his old burgundy jumpers, her hair in a messy pile on top of her head. Even in such a simple and understated outfit she managed to look so brightly beautiful.

‘Your uniform is still in the bags, why don’t you try it on and show Daddy?’ Kory suggested as she made her way to the kitchen and threw something into the washing machine before beginning to clear the various plates from the island.

Mar’i didn’t waste another second before she dropped down from his hip and sped down the hall, disappearing into her bedroom.

Dick took off his jacket and hooked it on the coat rack then came up behind Kory and slipped his arms around her waist. His body tingled as her body melted into his, her arms coming to rest atop of his.

‘How was your day, babe?’ He asked, pressing his lips under her jaw.

‘Long. We had to go to 4 different stores to get all the parts of her uniform and of course she wanted every single thing in each store. She’s a very good negotiator - I blame you.’

Dick snorted out a laugh but stopped short when Mar’i came galloping into the living room. Dick felt his heart clench as it dropped. She wore a grey pinafore over a crisp white shirt, a letterbox red cardigan covering both items. Her white socks had frills that covered the patent black strap of the ballerina pumps she wore. His throat closed up at the sight of her. He wondered how time could pass so fast.

‘You look wonderful, honey. I love it. Especially the bow.’ He nodded pointedly to the upside down bow clipped into one of her puffs.

Mar’i gave him a clumsy twirl with an elated smile on her face.

‘Okay sweetie, time to put it away please.’ Kory requested firmly.

‘But Mommy -’

‘No buts. You are not getting it dirty. Besides, we have to do your hair today and it’s gonna take until you go to bed. Hurry up, little pup.’

Mar’i let out a little huff and jutted out her bottom lip as she stomped her way to change. Kory waited until she turned the corner of her room before she spun in Dick’s arms and gave him an amused look.

‘Are you okay? You look like you’re about to cry.’ She noted.

‘No, I’m fine. I just - when did she get so big?’

‘I know.’ She sighed. ‘If it makes you feel better, I already cried in the changing room earlier. She had to give me a hug. Of course, half of that was because they'd ran out of her size in shirts despite it being the third store we’d been to.’

Dick laughed just as she’d intended him to but she related to his sentiment. It seemed like just yesterday that they left the hospital with her in a car seat and now she was starting school. Before they knew it, she would be graduating university and having children of her own.

‘Remember when the first time she floated? Middle of the night and my turn to give her her bottle. I thought I was dreaming.’

This time it was Kory that let out a chortle of laughter.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so scared and confused.’

‘Yeah, well it’s not every day that you wake up at 3am with your 1 year old just chilling on the ceiling.’ He pointed out.

‘I do miss her at that age. I miss how small she was. I miss her newborn baby smell. And honestly, I miss how quiet she was. You know the other day, she asked me if grass could feel pain when you step on it because it’s technically alive. I never thought I would be having a 10 minute argument with a 4 year old over grass.’

‘I’ll raise you one better. When you were teaching the other day, she asked me whether, when the world ends, we were gonna die or whether we could come back when the earth felt better.’

Kory let out a loud burst of laughter, barely managing to giggle out a ‘Kids are so weird.’

‘Well we could always have another one. It would occupy her time.’ Dick proposed.

She pulled back against the island, scanning his face to see whether he was serious.

‘Are you saying we should have another baby?’ She questioned.

‘I guess I am.’ He replied, shrugging his shoulders.

‘Do you think we can handle it?’ She asked again.

‘I mean we already had one right?’

‘Yeah but that’s hard enough as it is, Dick. Can we really handle another one?’

‘Come on...new baby smell, tiny swaddle of cuteness, Mar’i having a best friend...’ He goaded.

‘Yeah easy for you to say - you don’t have to give birth to them.’ She said with a roll of her eyes. ‘But you’re right. I would love to have another baby with you.’

She didn’t miss the way his eyes lit up. He seized his lips with a gentle kiss out before a faint crash broke them apart only a few moments later. The single ‘oops’ that followed let them know that it was going to be a long night.

#raejustrae #dickkory #titans #dc titans #dick grayson #kory anders #mar’i grayson #dickory fanfic #dickkory fanfiction #i HATE that the word daddy and mommy has been tainted bc i find it so sweet #we gotta reclaim it #anyway im sorry ill stop babbling #but i know very little about the comics im sorry #i dont have time to read them until im FINALLY done with uni #i apologise if theres any mistakes also i tried

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caricature-of-a-witch · 4 years ago

Text

Choices

Fandom: Wicked (book/musical)

Characters: Glinda (Pfannee, Milla, and Shenshen make an appearance, as well as very minor OCs who are unimportant)

Pairing: well Elphaba doesn’t show up in person and nothing is explicitly stated but we know nothing between these witches is platonic

Word count: 3821

Warnings: alludes to canonical character death

Summary: It should have been me. The thought comes unbidden as she finally picks herself off the floor with wobbly legs. If any of the monkeys had remained, they’ve flown off by now, driven away by her noisy and clustery presence in their mistress’s lair. Glinda remains alone as she wipes her face with a dark, rough sleeve that covers her hand up to the fingertips when she lets it fall. She clutches the fabric closer, pretends it feels like another hand in hers. --Galinda, or Glinda, throughout various moments of her life, grapples with envy, and the sense of what is deserved -and what isn't.

Author’s note: Thank you so much to the lovely @thorin-is-a-cuddler for the prompt and for being so enthusiastic about it!!

Read on AO3 | Read on ff.net

----

Beauty

The world is alight with magic. Ruffles and frills in all colours, flitter and glitter and glimmer in the air, the swishy sound of silk and velvet gliding past her, and oh, the colours – Galinda does her best to remain unaffected, but, unseen, her little heart beats a joyful rhythm in her chest. She knows not to let it show. She’s in another league this year, her parents said, no longer grouped in with toddlers and babies. Her bearing matters more now, the way she carries herself and the way she looks at her surroundings, it simply won’t do to be caught in childish wonder instead of worldly aloofness. Her mother has taught her well, and Galinda strives to make her proud.

In the dressing room (a collective room, still, only the adults who participate in the really important contests get private dressing rooms, Galinda can’t wait until she’s older), the air is thick with powder, and the glitter that’s so nice and pretty under the open sky is still pretty but makes her sneeze in the stuffed room. Her mother crouches before her and plucks the frills on her dress into place. It’s pale violet, because even though she wanted a pink one, pink is a colour for small children and for young women, not for her, who is something in between. At least she got to keep the small green adornments, and the tiny emeralds in her newly pierced ears.

A large powdery brush is thrust in her face. Galinda flinches back reflexively, and her mother reaches for her shoulder. “Hold still still, darling, I need to fix up your rouge.”

Galinda remembers just in time that nodding assent isn’t holding still, so she does as she is told. A smaller brush follows and dabs colour onto her obligingly closed eyelids. Sticky gloss is spread on her lips. Her mother makes a smacking sound at her, and Galinda smacks back until her lips are evenly sticky all over and her mother passes her a small, pink mirror so she may admire herself.

The two faces beaming back from the oval glass look like they might be one and the same, caught at different moments in time, and they are the prettiest faces in all of Oz.

As they wait for their turn in neat little rows of fluffs and curls, the girl next to Galinda kicks her feet in a rather unbecoming display of boredom. Galinda turns to her and whispers, “don’t do that.”

“Why?” The feet keep kicking, bouncing up and down and up and down. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“It’s not pretty,” Galinda explains. Her eyes follow the motion like her gaze is glued to the dainty red shoes. “You’ll seem like a child. It’s not pretty.” It’s a beauty contest. Why did no one tell this poor girl that she couldn’t do not pretty things at a beauty contest?

The poor girl huffs derisively and swings her foot forward so sharply the shoe nearly flies off. “That’s stupid,” she says. “You’re stupid. Your dress is stupid. No one cares about what I do when you’re not even wearing a pretty dress!”

She doesn’t say it meanly. It’s a mere statement, as though observing a simple fact, and Galinda wants to yell at her that she’s wrong, and her mum told her not to swing her legs because it’s not pretty, can’t she see? But yelling, she knows, is definitely not pretty, and her heart has crawled int her throat and is preventing words from coming out, anyway. She just turns away again and pats down her pretty, purple dress to push it into perfect shape.

On her way home, she knows she should have worn a pink dress. It should have been me. The girl who’d sat next to her stepped, no, skipped onto the stage, legs flying in all directions as she introduced herself with a little dance and flourish, her pink dress flaring out beneath the glittering red belt to reveal the glittering red shoes and neat white lace stockings, and the jury was instantly charmed.

Galinda reached second place. Her parents are still gushing over her while she sits in the carriage with her arms crossed and her lips pressed tightly shut to avoid letting out the sadness and anger that are making an unseemly ruckus inside her. They insist they’re proud, and that she is beautiful and did an amazing job, and her mum tells her to maybe be a bit more lively next time, that’s a dear, because Galinda did it wrong and the other girl did it right.

She thinks of red and pink and glitter, and doesn’t try very hard not to wish she had tripped the other girl into the dirt while her legs were too busy flying to look where they were going.

Learning

Shiz is an experience. That’s what she writes home in her first letter to her parents, and that’s how, worldly and with class, she talks about it with the other girls. The journey to get there, the wide, imposing halls, the professors and lecturers in all their seriousness, that sober gravity. Truth be told, Galinda thinks it a bit overly intimidating sometimes, and to her shame finds herself actively avoiding areas commonly populated with teachers from Three Queens and Ozma Towers. Secretly she’s become increasingly glad of authority figures like Dr Dillamond and even Mrs Greyling, to whom the term barely seems to apply at all as by her students at large, she is generally considered neither an authority nor much of a figure at all.

None of this makes its way out of Galinda’s innermost thoughts, of course.

She writes to her parents about the sophistication of her classes, and about the other colleges’ occupants merely with regards to marriage prospects. (Boq doesn’t feature in her letters, neither in praise nor ridicule, for both feel wrong whenever she attempts, and her attempts usually end with her quill thrown down in a huff. No reason to waste her thoughts on a Munchkin.)

She gossips about Avaric with Shenshen, adopts the same blend of admiration and scorn she sees in her friend’s eyes – it’s how she feels about him, after all. It’s how they all feel about him, handsome, arrogant Avaric, who is of course out of their league, but one never knows. (He isn’t out of Shenshen’s league. Shenshen takes great pains to deliberately not point this out to them.) Even Boq doesn’t seem quite immune to his charm.

She gossips about Shenshen with Pfannee, and about both of them with Milla, and doesn’t think about who’s gossiping with whom about her. The three of them together gossip about everyone else. They talk about their studies insofar as they discuss the teachers, and how sophisticated all of Shiz is, and what a wonderful opportunity, to experience university life at their young age, and first-hand!

“If only one didn’t have to learn so much,” Pfannee huffs, sprawled out on top of her mattress with her feet in Milla’s lap. “You think now you have read everything that could possibly have been written on one single topic, and just as you’ve reached the last sentence they whip out the next book to immediately disprove all you’ve just learned. What’s the point?”

Galinda idly flicks at a page of The Science and the Sorcery of the Sophisticated Mind, back and forth, back and forth. “You’d think by now we’d be done with it. I’m sure not even half of what we’re told is even important – is it even worth it to be told ninety-nine unimportant things for every relevant titbit?”

“I suspect it’s less about teaching us as many important facts as possible, and more about… oh, teaching us how to think about things, that sort of thing,” Milla says with a yawn before reaching over with a half-hearted glare to pluck the noisy book from Galinda’s hands.

“I know well enough how to think, thank you very much,” Galinda points out. “I never got that impression from Morrible, anyway. If she wanted us to think and have opinions, she might do well to actually let us have opinions, instead of expecting us to simply parrot her own opinions back at her, don’t you think?”

Shenshen, who has been slowly combing her hair with a bored expression, tosses her locks artfully over her shoulder. “I, for one, am not here in order to have opinions,” she declares. “I’m here to broaden my horizon, and improve my chances for the future ahead of me.”

She means her future in marriage, of course, and the other three laugh heartily and agree with her, although Milla doesn’t look at Shenshen as she does so and Galinda feels something bubbling up behind her laugh that she doesn’t dare give voice to.

It should have been her, leading their little group, confidently ending such nonsensical discussions. She’s come to Shiz because she’s smart, yes, but she harbours no illusions as to the subjects of her education granting her any advantage. Having studied will make her more sophisticated, more appealing for influential men looking for marriage – it’s the reason she’s here. It’s the reason most of them are here. But somewhere along the way, her vision of the future has gotten knocked the slightest bit askew, her hopes and ideas just a little out of sync with reality.

She thinks of her roommate, whom she’d left behind with a quill and note paper and reading, always reading, as she skipped out of their dorm to meet her friends. Elphaba. Elphaba who, behind closed doors, entices her into the strangest discussions more often than not these days. Always safely hidden away from the real world, Elphaba challenges her, asks about Galinda’s thoughts and opinions and wheedles and pushes until Galinda finds to her great surprise that she has opinions. If asked, she couldn’t explain it, but it feels wrong. Dangerous. She flees Elphaba’s company, her curt excuse met with a too-wide, too-knowing grin, and finds another opinion two or three days thereafter.

Perhaps one of these days, she’ll come to Elphaba with a declaration of her own, turn the tables and see what the strange girl makes of that.

Alone

Nessarose is grieving, Nanny says, but even her eyes shine with disapproval as she speaks to Glinda. She’s taking it to heart, more than she wants to let on. It’s better not to take her accusations personally, duckie, she will regret her words soon, and punish herself more than enough for it, Nanny says, and holds Glinda’s hands tight in her old, shrivelled ones. It’s probably meant to be an apology of sorts.

Glinda doesn’t care. The words wash over her as she nods, and smiles, and retreats to her own part of the accommodations, and doesn’t look over to Elphaba’s side.

Nessa thinks that Elphaba has chosen her, chosen Glinda, over her sister. It’s an understandable anger, if misplaced. Yes, Glinda was the one whom Elphaba had taken with her to the Emerald City, but choice had nothing to do with it. Elphaba had to go. Despite her best efforts and wishes, Elphaba could not go alone. Whom could she have taken? Nessarose, her delicate little sister – endanger her, incriminate her alongside herself, ruin any social and political chances she might ever have; not to mention that Nessa would have protested every step of the way and downright refused? Fiyero, the shy foreign prince, who was married to his child bride and had a whole clan depending on him back in the Vinkus, Fiyero who still hadn’t even quite found his footing at Shiz – throw him into the Capital, a representative of a just-short-of-oppressed country, unwillingly made to challenge the Great Wizard himself? Or Avaric, maybe, whose dislike of Elphaba was mutual and no secret and who might have the capacity to care about people beyond himself, if he only thought to try, or Boq, who wasn’t-- there’s no point. No, Glinda was the only option, with just the right amount of self-importance even now still, not influential enough to have her prospects all too endangered, but well-versed in high society and, and moral support or whatever those sleepless nights meant.

Although that might not be the choice that Nessa meant. In her mind, Elphaba should have chosen not to take her along instead, but to not leave at all – should have chosen to stay with Nessarose, as is her duty, as she always has in the past. Because for all her sisterly claimy, Nessarose doesn’t see that for Elphaba, there was no such choice. She had borne all the injustice she could bear, and when she could no longer bear it, she left, and now she is gone.

Still, Glinda understands. Her own thoughts mirror Nessa’s closely enough.

It should have been me. What Nessa doesn’t understand is that Elphaba hasn’t chosen Glinda, either. That Glinda is left behind the same way, or even more so – she was there, within arms reach, such an easy choice to make. She understands, she thinks, why Elphaba didn’t make it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less, and it doesn’t make the quiet, sizzling anger disappear.

Regret

There isn’t… much, once the Good Witch steps dainty foot inside the castle. Not much to see. Not much to do. Nothing at all, if she’s honest with herself, but she doesn’t know if she’s trying to be. It’s no use to close one’s eyes to keep out reality – the Good Witch knows this. It’s been a hard lesson to learn, and one that took her longer than she would ever admit. But she also knows, now, that ignorance is indeed bliss, and at times she longs for the bliss of her youth.

Ignorance, here and now, is not a choice available to her.

No sparkles adorn her dress, none of the pomp and showiness the citizens of Oz expect of her, no colour at all to bring a spark of life and light into the drab, grey halls of Kiamo Ko. She fits right in, with her drab, grey frock that she wouldn’t be caught dead in. But she isn’t dead, and here she is.

The castle greets her with the echo of her own footsteps, and the echo of monkey chatter that she may or may not be imagining, and the echo of voices that belong to people who are – who aren’t here any longer, that she is almost certainly imagining. Still she flinches, pivots towards the source of the not-sound, her numb heart lurching at the not-there voice speaking not-there words that she can almost, almost make out. A scream doesn’t ring out from far above her in the tower as she climbs the stairs. It’s not long and drawn-out and it doesn’t fade into a choked off whimper before it cuts out, and it doesn’t freeze the marrow of the Good Witch’s bones because it isn’t there at all, isn’t audible, isn’t real. Even so, it does make her stop to clutch at her ears, press her forehead against the rough stone until the sound ceases not to be heard.

Her citizens may never know what she has found, up in that lonely tower room so befitting of a wicked witch. Her citizens may never know she came here at all, that she walked, with bare feet and a numb heart and a frock below even the dress of a commoner, up a beaten spiral case of stone steps towards an empty room filled with nothing anyone would deem of worth. That she knelt, amidst all that remained of the formidable Wicked Witch of the West, and did not move for hours as she silently begged for forgiveness she would never receive and never deserve. That, when the hour was late enough to be early, the numbness in her heart finally gave way to breathless tears that wiped away the last remnants of what they might have recognised as their Good Witch of the North and left only Glinda, breathless and screaming and as flustered and uncomely as any other Ozian in the face of such grief.

It should have been me. The thought comes unbidden as she finally picks herself off the floor with wobbly legs, but she knows it to be true. If any of the monkeys had remained, they’ve flown off by now, driven away by her noisy and clustery presence in their mistress’s lair. She remains alone as she wipes her face with a dark, rough sleeve that covers her hand up to the fingertips when she lets it fall. She clutches the fabric closer, pretends it feels like another hand in hers.

It was never Elphaba who poisoned the land of Oz, a land whose upper classes thought they could extinguish pain and injustice by blaming innocents, by locking all its ugly bits and pieces out of sight and pretending they couldn’t see them when they protruded from the seams and oozed from the gaps like tar, like pus from a festering wound. Of course – Glinda had never locked anyone up, had she? It wasn’t her fault if people broke the law so carelessly, it wasn’t her fault when they refused to obey their head of state, their Wonderful Wizard, it wasn’t her fault if they weren’t sensible enough to see that he only wanted what was best for them all, the silly things. It wasn’t her fault if they couldn’t be satisfied with their place in life, now was it? And Glinda closed her eyes with a smile, and waved to the adoring masses and gave the rousing, cheery speeches that were handed to her, and pretended she couldn’t see. And Elphaba, instead of being content, caused a fuss and pointed her bony green fingers at neat little seams and accused them of being sticky with overflowing tar, and it was no wonder she got in trouble for it, was it? Of course people would react badly. Of course people would want her gone.

No. No, Elphaba should never have been the one to attract all that fury, that hatred. But Glinda refused to look, refused to see, and all the political power it presumably brought her cannot mend the shattered tatters of a life she allowed to end while too many others, so much less deserving of it, are allowed to continue.

Untouched by the first light of the morning sun, Glinda the Good descends a narrow, dusky staircase. Her steps are steady despite the invisible burden weighing her down, and the salty tracks have been diligently erased, her flaxen curls neatly patted into shape. She will leave the abandoned castle without looking back and return to her home unnoticed with its looming silhouette still domineering the back of her mind, a place it will never entirely relinquish. She will change out of the shapeless frock and return it, gently, to its space at the bottom of a locked drawer, before she painstakingly puts on heavy layers of eggshell white and glittering blue.

She has made a promise, and she will keep it.

Forward

Politics are thankless work, no matter what people would have you believe, and never more so than when you wish to right wrongs that have been given too much time to fester. Those who have been wronged will be slow to give you their trust, or withhold it completely, and you have no right to begrudge their hesitation. Those who have benefited from the wrongs committed will be understandably angry at the loss of their privilege. Less understandably, they will be angry at being asked to treat those they have wronged with kindness, as equals. The Good Witch knows this. It is a lesson she learns anew every day, and has learned for years now. She has made her peace with the fact that she cannot please everyone, and that she will never be done learning.

There are lines in her face that she does not bother trying to conceal with paint and flattering lighting. Laugh lines, around her eyes and mouth, and lines of sorrow, of pain and worry between her eyebrows and on her forehead. There are spots of blue on her eyelids, still, and a sparkling tiara in her greying curls that matches the glittering blue of her gown. It’s no use changing all of yourself just because you want to change the world, after all. But there’s no use either in pretending to be more than anyone can rightfully expect of you.

Oz will continue to change once she is gone, she knows. She hopes. Her work is far from done, and she doubts it will be within her lifetime. She is doing her best, though, and hopes that it is enough.

She does not pray. The Unnamed God has never proven himself to be of help to anyone, and wide-eyed children have called Glinda a fairy queen too often as that she can put much faith in Lurline.

The audience is quiet as she speaks. She has written the words herself, showed them to an advisor to edit out any awkwardness and clumsy phrasings, but made sure the meaning remains unchanged. Her gaze drifts over humans and Animals alike, somewhat separated still, but mingling, side by side, equal. One of the few Quadling women in attendance is whispering something to a Munchkinlander, who shushes her with her elbow but barely contains a grin. The representatives of the Arjiki watch her with bright eyes and unreadable faces.

It isn’t perfect. There’s still leaking tar, jarringly obvious as it sticks to Oz’s structure, still rough and hasty seams in need of mending, or of cutting open and redoing entirely. Some places look worse than before – you need to get all the ugliness of a wound out in the open before it can start to heal. But Glinda is no longer closing her eyes, and hasn’t been for a long time. She asks her fellow Ozians to do the same.

As she finishes her speech, as the people assembled below her podium applaud and cheer, a flash of green in the corner of her eyes makes her heart lurch painfully in her chest. She doesn’t turn her head, though it hurts to disregard her yearning. Instead, she smiles brightly at her audience. She tries to look at everyone individually, to show them that they are seen. She keeps her hands clasped in front of her and does not reach out to the side, to someone who isn’t there.

The applause, she knows, though they don’t, is not for her. Shouldn’t be for her. She will collect it, however, hold it in her heart until she can give Elphaba the praise that she is due, because it should not be Glinda, standing on that stage and receiving praise for her Goodness.

It should have been you.

#Wicked #Wicked fanfic #Gelphie #Glinda Upland #Glinda Arduenna #Wicked the musical #Wicked The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West #fanfic #Choices #fanfiction #screw the formatting on this bloody website #Ash's writing #Ash's fanfic

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gumnut-logic · 5 years ago

Text

Johnny Snapshots

@onereyofstarlight Okay, let’s face it, I live in the land of the Virg and John is one of the hardest for me to tackle (the other being Alan who I do a disservice to on a regular basis). So I don’t read much John focussed fic. Not that I don’t love the boi, it’s just...oooh, look a bright shiny Virg! :D

So in order to get Johnny fluff for you, I only really have my pile of Virg-focussed fic to play with, though I can recommend reading stuff from @the-lady-razorsharp and @willow-salix cos they claim Johnny as their boi and write lots of stuff focussed on their space noodle :D

While looking for my previous post in my archives, I came across a snippet of John from one of my fics and got the idea of little Johnny Snapshots. So, here from amongst all my Virg fic, have a little Johnny Nutty-style.

Note: Snapshots from all sorts of fic, looking for fluff, spoilers for everything, several AUs, several ships, pretty much potluck and lots of description of the Johnny :D And while I’ve included links to the fics, the fics themselves are likely Virgil focussed and there may not be much more of John in them than is already here. You’ve probably read some of these before, too.

I hope you enjoy anyway :D

-o-o-o-

A ghost drifted on the breeze.

White as an angel, pale as the moonlight sculpting his form, his next youngest brother rode the air currents above the island.

The only word to describe John was elegant. Airborne porcelain, he circled. Midnight starlight cascaded through Virgil’s mind. Expressions of sorrow draped in calm, warmed by an amber light, the steady core of his star-loving brother.

Virgil watched mesmerised as his turns became tighter and tighter, closer to the ground. A great arch of white feathers and he landed gently, barely disturbing the sand beneath his bare feet.

He was gleaming in the moonlight from toe to hooded gaze. Ever so pale skin, free to be bare to the elements with the absence of the sun, his only clothing was a cut off pair of jeans so faded they were more white than blue.

Only his hair had colour, flame caught in just the right flash of light.

Decision

-o-o-o-

When he woke, the sun was making for the horizon, the whole island cast in gold.

“Hey, Virgil.”

The soft melodious voice of his space borne brother was lacking its usual transmission static and it was a pleasant surprise to roll over and find John sitting on a lounger beside him. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself. How are you feeling?”

First question of any brother to any injured brother, of course. “Good, actually.” And he was. Relaxed, pain at a minimum, a gorgeous sunset in preparation, and... “Great to see you down here.” Virgil didn’t admit it often, but he did miss his middle brother. Didn’t really like him so far out of reach. But John loved it, so it was what it was. Didn’t mean Virgil couldn’t be happy to see him when he could. “What brings you to this little planet?”

The sun was sculpting John’s pale features and white shirt in almost molten gold, merging his skin with his copper hair. The odd thought of some kind of Greek god fluttered through the back of Virgil’s mind. He shook himself mentally. What the hell?

V.T. Green

-o-o-o-

John appreciates a fine meal. Of the five brothers, he is the one who will know about the wine. He’ll know which region it came from, what it should be eaten with and which year grew the plant it was made from. This, of course, means he is the most likely culprit to steal Scott’s boutique beers out of the fridge…to the point that one of the first signs of the middle brother being back on Earth is the sudden missing bottles from said refrigerator.

Virgil thinks it is hilarious.

Scott’s worried his brother is a secret alcoholic and keeps monitoring his intake.

Alan keeps messing with Scott’s head by pinching extra bottles to ‘up John’s intake’.

Gordon messes with everyone by refilling the bottles with apple juice.

But yes, John is the one to appreciate a good meal, most likely because he has to eat all that space crap eighty percent of the time.

Food, Tracy style

-o-o-o-

A sigh. “Um....never have I ever...er...been arrested?” Surely, they hadn’t done that?

“Are you kidding me?” Gordon, glugged down some more drink. “That’s an easy one. Paris. The Louvre.”

What?

Scott raised his hand holding his glass. “Gordon.” As if that explained everything. He swallowed heavily.

Alan snorted, rolled and fell face first onto the carpet.

Gordon laughed. “Hey, bro. Time to take another drink. Remember the teddy bear at the fair?”

“Crap.” Alan grabbed his glass and toasted the air. “Gordon.” Apparently, it did explain everything.

“Gordon.” Kayo said it like a zombie and swallowed some more alcohol. Ridley just stared at her, but was distracted as apparently not-so-asleep John attempted to locate his glass by pawing blindly at the carpet with one hand. His mumbled “Gordon.” Was almost muffled as Ridley tried to grab his arm.

“Lawn flamingo.” Virgil attempted to bring the drink to his mouth, but missed and threw it over his shoulder instead. “Oops.”

Em blinked.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m calling this game. Off to bed with the lot of you. I have the strongest feeling that I should have taken Grandma’s advice and gone to bed early myself.”

There were many a muttered groan, mostly of ‘Awww’ and her name, but the brothers mostly stumbled to their feet. Kayo had to drag Virgil off of Em. The man was heavy.

Ridley smiled at her as she manhandled her space noodle off into their rooms. John was muttering something about ‘Gordon’s fault...didn’t want to do that in a book store.’ Penny helped Alan to his rooms, all the time shooting glares at Gordon.

“What?” The aquanaut looked non-plussed. “What did I do?”

“Gordon, go look after your brother.” Scott’s voice was firm. He still hadn’t relaxed.

Em sighed, grabbed his arm and, activating her hoverjets, pulled him up. “C’mon, Commander, time for bed.”

“Em.” And suddenly she was in his arms.

“Flyboy, your blood alcohol content can be detected from space.”

“Space!” John’s voice echoed down the hallway.

“Not today, spaceman, you’d miss TB5 and end up on Mars.” Ridley was obviously being very patient.

“Not Mars. Wrong trejacktory.” A closing door shut off the rest of the mumbled maths that followed.

Never Have I Ever

-o-o-o-

John sighed, walked over to the bed and sat on the edge in echo of something he had done so many times as a boy. He used to come in here and talk Virgil’s ear off about space and stars and his latest science projects. Virgil, in turn, would nod, say the right things at the right time and generally be the good older brother. John suspected that Virgil hadn’t understood half of what he was saying, but the older boy had never said anything. Not that Virgil wasn’t smart, just his interests lay in different areas.

They were both quiet by nature and Virgil’s patience drew John to him. Mostly because he would listen. One of the hardest things about being a far above average student with very specific interests was finding someone to talk to about them. John wasn’t a big talker outside the family, but that was because society in general was lost two words into any sentence he wanted to construct. John had no use for general gossip when he had spent the day discovering a new extra-solar object. Who cared who won the football when Neptune was aligning with Earth in a way that wouldn’t happen for another one hundred and sixty five years?

It was Virgil who stopped and listened as a young John Tracy babbled about his latest discoveries.

He was his big brother.

The House

-o-o-o-

Unfortunately, distracted, he didn’t see brother number three and collided with him, nearly sending both of them to the floor.

“Oh, god, sorry…J-“ His hands met soft silk and he looked up, this time truly focussing on his tall brother.

Oh my god.

He must truly have some kind of sibling radar because there was no way in hell he could have recognised his brother otherwise.

“John?”

“Hey, Virgil.”

And yes, that was a smirk on that face.

He eyed the man from bottom to top. High heeled boots in shiny black leather. Black tights! High cut, buttoned up, deep blue coat sequined in an elaborate filigree with almost ankle length tails. The ends of his sleeves flared out like flowers over leather gloves. And a white silk cravat wrapped his throat with about ten layers of frills.

But all that didn’t live up to the hair. Oh, god, the hair. Gone was the familiar red, replaced with a fountain of silver white, springing in strands from the top of his head like a spray of leafless weeping willow, long enough to reach his chest.

Virgil stared. “Are you wearing makeup?”

The smirk widened and, yes, there was some kind of lip gloss to go with the elaborate eyeshadow arching into his brows.

Blink. “Wh-who are you?”

“Why, my dear child,” and John tapped him on the head with his ornamental riding crop. “I’m the Goblin King.”

Another blink. “Who?” He couldn’t recall ever seeing a goblin who looked quite like that.

And the more familiar John rolled his eyes. “A friend of mine advised me that this would be easier if I made myself completely unrecognisable. She is a fan of old movies, so I picked one.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “She?”

“She.”

“Okay.” He eyed his brother again. “I’ll take your word for it.”

A Warm Rain Halloween (wip)

-o-o-o-

It had been three days. His brother was now hooked up to several IVs and other invasive support mechanisms, his unconscious body needing assistance to survive. The usually agile, calm and kind man now lay pale, his hair unkempt and limp, eyes bruised smudges on his lifeless face, hands wrapped in copious bandages.

Virgil reached over and ran his fingers through that blond and red hair, attempting to straighten it out, forcing the flick to behave itself.

“C’mon, John, speak to me.” Virgil’s voice was little above a whisper. “I can’t do this without you.” And the statement was suddenly true. Spoken without thought, Virgil realised that through everything that had happened to him in the last few months, John had been there, even when Virgil was too terrified to see him, John had stood strong while his brother dragged him through the mud. He had done everything in his power, everything, to support Virgil. “God, don’t let a faulty circuit be your epitaph, you are worth so much more than that. So much more.”

He needed his brother’s dry wit. He needed his calm voice. He needed him.

Virgil let his head drop to the bed.

Please.

Father

-o-o-o-

John hated crowds, especially those involving the press. Scott went out of his way to make sure he wasn’t exposed to them, but his brother wasn’t available right now.

Head down, no eye contact. “No comment.”

“No comment.”

They crowded in on him and he grit his teeth.

A sharp crack and a yelp. A squawk and the clattering of plastic on concrete. A scream and a flash of light. John looked up to find holocams falling like rain. One close to him simply stopped and dropped. Another sparked, spun and dove at the nearest reporter. She screamed and ran.

The holocam chased her.

Oh.

The crowd began to disperse in erratic squeals and yelps of fear. John took advantage and dashed through to the doors of the hospital. Behind him, the elevator fired its thrusters, adding to the confusion, and launched towards orbit.

“Eos, you are dangerous.”

“Yes, John, and don’t you forget it.” The amusement in her voice had him smiling.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

Dirt

-o-o-o-

The only one standing entirely upright was her middle grandson. He brought up the rear, his tall, lithe form fluid as he walked. As always, his red hair was startling against his golden baldric. His eyes tracked around the room, his expression cool and controlled, but as his grandmother, she could see the tells of worry and exhaustion.

The great silver form of Eos sat on his arm preening her feathers. Every so often, the hawk would pause and survey the room, just like her bearer, her startling red eyes catching everything. Sal would never understand that relationship, but it had saved her family more than once and she was grateful, if still wary.

The Prince Who Would Not be King

-o-o-o-

If the quiet lifestyle is more your thing, you may wish to upgrade to John Tracy. ‘Up’ is the keyword here as he resides twenty-two thousand miles up, in orbit, in fact. Yes, John is the original space Tracy. Fully adapted to the cold and dark beyond our atmosphere, he does indeed adore the quiet life.

However, before we tempt you any further, it should be noted that John is the only Tracy brother who is a parent. A single parent at that. Inadvertent though her existence is, Eos is recognised as John’s daughter and she presents a number of unique challenges, the least of which is what she will do to your bank accounts if you upset her. Yes, if you are looking for bankruptcy, offending Eos is a fantastic way to achieve your goal.

In summary, don’t piss off the kid.

Having said that, should she approve of your existence, Eos is quite capable of enhancing that existence should she so choose. In any case, John’s daughter is a great conversationalist, even if she has locked you in the bathroom.

John himself sports arguably the most stunning eyes of all the five brothers. Alan, please be quite and Scott, sit down.

A unique pair of turquoise irises that contrast exquisitely with his copper hair makes for a stunning date to have on your arm. The only downside is that arm may need to be handcuffed to yours if you intend on going anywhere involving more than six people at a time.

Our space Tracy is not a social being. Despite communication as a profession, John Tracy has been heard to wish to only speak to others from space. This may include you. Please keep your phone charged at all times.

It should also be noted that if your phone battery is dead and John wishes to contact you, he may hack an appliance as mundane as your toaster. Communicating via the temperature controls in the shower has been reported. Virgil was not impressed.

John is one of the taller Tracys. Unlike Scott, however, heels may not be needed as ninety-five percent of the time John is in space, so if you are planning to get to know him, you’re going to be in space too. Just float up to look him in those gorgeous eyes.

A fan of spaceball and Star Trek, John is your traditional loveable geek. Be aware that his neighbour knows this and you may want to lock all the airlocks in case she comes knocking for a cup of sugar.

John is definitely a good investment and comes with a space station to boot. You will be able to spend many hours stargazing both at the universe and those irises.

Plus One Tracy

-o-o-o-

Oh, I do have a couple of John focussed fics. The fluffiest is Bagel.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #john tracy

37 notes · View notes

jiminscaramel · 6 years ago

Text

pretty in pink | shownu [mx]

[GENRE] smut, fluff

[COUNT] 4k+

[PAIRING] fem. reader x Shownu

[WARNINGS] dom. Shownu, unprotected sex, public sex/sex in a public place, cream pie, oral (f. receiving), fingering, overstimulation, spanking, daddy kink, dirty talk, mirror play?, lingerie

[AU] sugar daddy au

[A/N] as requested by anon however it is completely self indulgent, I adore this concept and had so much fun writing it!

Shownu had been the one to suggest spending some quality time together, quietly and casually mentioning it over a dinner date slotted into his crammed schedule. It had come as a pleasant surprise, the mere thought of spending alone time with him, without the pressures of work or expectancy looming overhead, sounded almost too good to be true. In fact you half expected him to cancel last minute, even as you waited to be picked up, basking in the late afternoon sun.

His car pulls up outside, a flashy sports model that looks dangerously small and sounds deafeningly loud and waits for you to hop in. You smile excitedly and peck him on the cheek, admiring his less formal, casual attire to fit the weather. Always the gentleman, he asks how you are, how your day’s been, how your work is going and you happily provide answers, chatting away over the music.

You’d only known him for a year, casually dating at first in exchange for lavish gifts, holidays and covered bills. But something was different about Shownu; he seemed almost too genuine and too doting to fit the stereotypical sugar daddy role, drawing you in no longer with his money and promise of expensive things, but with his debonair and charm.

You pull up into one of the country’s most prestigious and luxury high streets, your eyes bulging with unrestrained excitement as you ogle all the flashy signs and colourful displays. He lets you have free reign and let’s you decide on where to go, completely indulging in your every wish. He never says no and instead prefers to hang back and watch your face light up, a small smile tugging at the corners of his usually stoic lips.

In more ways than one he’s grown incredibly fond of you and has made a conscious effort to spend more time together. Not just to fulfil a quota or to meet the criteria of a prior agreed contract, but to get to know you better. He now leaves trivial tasks in the hands of his assistant and cancels unimportant meetings all in the hope of putting that time to better use with you. It’s awfully telling, the way you look at him when you think he isn’t watching, accompanied by your bold advances and displays of affection in the past few months. A little nagging voice at the back of his mind warns him that it could just be his imagination, that it’s all act in order to gain a bigger allowance but the reason in his heart tells him otherwise.

He carries half of your bags on one arm and you on the other, your warm palm absently caressing his bicep. You struggle to hold your half of the load, their awkward shapes making them hard to carry.

“You should just give them to me, I don’t mind holding them,” Shownu suggests, tucking his sunglasses into his shirt, flashing his toned chest beneath the fabric.

“No,” you refuse, teetering awkwardly into the next shop, sighing when you’re met with the relieving blast of cool air. “You’re my man, not my slave. I’m more than capable.” You blush as you realise all too late your little slip up, fanning yourself even harder when he raises his eyebrows in playful question. “I mean–”

“I know what you meant, baby,” he laughs and follows you to the store concierge where you dump all your bags behind a screen, granting you a hassle-free shopping experience.

The store is lowly lit, black glossy floors and dark walls accentuating the gaudy and brilliant items on display. It’s empty at this time of day, giving you all the space and time you need to carefully pick something out. Shownu looks highly unbothered at being surrounded by lingerie – something many other supposed men you’d been with had freaked out about – and even picks out a few he likes for you to try on.

Having chosen your favourite picks, you clutch your little selection of knickers and tot over to the dressing room, Shownu hot on your heels.

“I should get you one of those,” he smirks, pointing to a discreet shelf stacked with sex toys. “For when you’re missing me.”

You swat his hand down and stare at him incredulously, the tips of your ears flaming hot. “No!” You whisper fiercely out of embarrassment, though there is a little truth to his suggestion. Often times you’ve been desperate; lonely in the small hours of the night with nothing but lewd thoughts and your fingers, Shownu’s name tumbling past your lips as you work yourself to release, wishing you had more. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea.

The store clerk leads you to the lavish dressing rooms, directing you to the biggest and most discreet. It only has one spacious stall, all dark woods and mahogany with gold accents, decorated with potted flowers and fairy lights. A plush loveseat is positioned opposite, allowing Shownu to rest his feet while you try on your picks. She leaves and shuts the door behind her, leaving just the two you alone.

“I like the yellow one,” Shownu suggests, spreading his legs wide as he sits back on the cushions. “Try that one on first.”

You shrug and disappear behind the heavy black curtain, laying out all the sets on the rail. The yellow one is quite eye catching, you think, deep mustard accented with a white trim. Your next pick is a cute pastel pink set with suspenders and stockings to match and the last one is a deep emerald and black cami suspender.

You shuffle around while you undress, your toes peeking out from the bottom of the stall. The bra is a size too small but the overall colour is extremely flattering. You twirl around in front of the wall mirror, admiring the way the colour makes your skin glow. “Nice choice,” you call out, smiling at your reflection.

“Do I get the pleasure of seeing?”

You push past the curtain, sudden shyness making you draw into yourself. Despite your brief time as a model and your arrangement with Shownu, you’re actually quite a diffident girl. You’d lacked the definite confidence your peers and competitors had and it had taken a while for you to get comfortable with him. It was never personal, never the fault of others, but rather a result of years of self-doubt and second guessing yourself. If anything, Shownu had brought out the best in you.

He hums in clear approval and motions for you to spin around to give him a full view. “You look gorgeous, baby. I love it.”

You’re suddenly aware of how intimate the setting is and the stark contrast between your near naked body and his fully clothed frame. You lean against the frame of the stall in a provocative way, his words boosting your confidence and making your heart flutter. His eyes darken and roam the planes of your body, his jaw drawing taught. A frisson of excitement ripples along your skin, your hair standing on end in response to his lingering gaze.

“I think you should try the others,” he clears his throat and sits forward, trying to hide his evident excitement growing beneath his jeans.

You nod in agreement and disappear once again behind the curtain to try on the cami suspender. It fits much better, tightly hugging your curves and accentuating your favourite features. You tug on the stockings and fasten the suspender clips to complete the look, stepping out more confidently this time.

A low groan sounds at the back of Shownu’s throat, his chest falling heavier with his laboured breathing. His eyes are hungry, almost starved and he shifts eagerly on the chair. “This one...”

“I like this one,” you smile, running your hands over the satin fabric and along your curves, drawing his attention to where you want it most. You saunter over to him, standing in between his legs, inviting his touch.

He almost looks relieved, his mouth hanging open in awe at your beauty. “Baby,” he whispers, his hands finding your waist, hurriedly tugging you down onto his lap. You sigh as his hands trail along your thighs, catching on the frills and lace, desperate to touch your skin. “You look so fucking good. I don’t think I can wait until we get home.”

His confession has your thighs tightening in anticipation, the mere thought of getting up to no good in a place where you can get caught is enough to make your core throb. Your breath catches in your throat, a little whine escaping as he presses kisses to the column of your neck, your back arching to offer him more skin. His calloused palm tugs at your garments, eager to remove the barrier between him and your skin.

“Shownu,” you sigh half-heartedly in poor effort to make him stop. But in all honestly, the whole situation is terrifyingly new and although it’s not usually something you’d go for, your curiosity – and arousal – get the better of you.

He pulls down one strap with his teeth, nipping along your shoulder and sucking marks into your skin you know will show up tomorrow. Your heart skips a beat at the intimate and personal action; you’d slept with Shownu a few times before so that was nothing new but he’d never... marked you. Things were usually pretty vanilla, straight to the point and satisfying each other’s needs. But you can’t deny that for the past few weeks and from the very moment you walked into the changing room, things had felt different. A static, heavy electricity that seemed to spark every time your gazes held, a thick tension that shrouded and guided the two of you into complete intimacy.

“Wait,” you breathe before he can get any further south. He looks up, pained and needy but also alert, afraid of making you feel uncomfortable. “Wait. I want to– to try the last one.” The heat from your core seems to bloom and spread across your body, your cheeks aflame.

He swallows what’s left of his composure and presses a kiss to your shoulder and you scuttle away into the changing room to rush in to try the final piece on. It’s by far your favourite, from the lace embellishments all the way down to the little crystal heart hanging on the underwire between the cups. It may be a typical, cliche colour, lumped in the same category as black and red lingerie, but it’s perfect in your eyes. Original.

You’re still adjusting your garments, making sure nothing is askew when the curtain opens in the reflection of the mirror. You spin around on your heel, ready to berate Shownu for ruining the surprise but the look in his eyes is dangerous.

His lips find yours before you can blink, crashing down into a hungry, open-mouthed kiss and his hands circle your waist, pulling you flush, so that there’s barely a sliver of space separating your bodies. Everything about him is desperate, as if he’s making up for lost time or making the most of what little time he has, you’re not sure. But something in your chest unravels, a familiar feeling of relief satiating your nerves. Of all the times you’d been intimate with Shownu, this already is by far the most special.

He pulls away, giving you both time to catch your breaths. “I couldn’t wait,” he pants, marvelling your figure in the new set. He moans once again in approval, his eyes never losing focus. “God, I want you. I want you so bad.”

“Then take me.” You lunge forward, capturing his lips once again, savouring his flavour on your tongue. He tastes of tobacco and cherry drops, the sweet tang coating your lips and seeping into your mouth. Your kisses are kittenish, almost impish; undoubtedly teasing yet curiously sating.

His hands discover a mind of their own and untangle themselves from your hair to explore the rest of your body, squeezing and pinching almost painfully in all the right places. You sigh into his mouth and press your body close once more, impatiently waiting for the next inevitable scene to unfold.

He pulls away again, this time abruptly and crouches down on his knees, his palms traversing your stockinged legs. He kisses a trail from the bottom of your thigh to your hips and finally to the apex of your thighs, growing dangerously close to your heat. The butterflies in your stomach silently rage, a flurry of excited wings turning your stomach in anticipation. You look down at him with needy eyes but you’re met with a dour, challenging stare, almost questioning your ability to handle him.

He grips your thigh and lifts your leg up, resting your foot on the cushioned seat, exposing your heat to him. You cover your face, ashamed of how deprived you are, almost embarrassed as you bare yourself to him. He mutters dirty nothings and compliments into your skin, his fingers drawing deliberate circles on your clothed clit. Your body jerks in response, limbs tightening and tensing out of your control.

“Shownu,” you whine, his name getting caught in your throat as another mewl tumbles past your lips.

He hushes you gently, in a way that almost feels as if he’s chiding you for being so impatient, before finally hooking his finger in your panties and pushing them to one side. The stuffy air of the changing stall hits your core, making you feel even more exposed and sends a shiver running down your spine.

“I need you to be quiet for me, kitten. You can’t let anyone out there know what a dirty little girl you’re being. Can you do that for me? Can you keep quiet for daddy?”

You nod silently, your lip held tightly between your teeth in a bid to stay silent. Though you don’t realise how much of a challenge it is until his tongue dives into your folds, making quick work of your clit. You gasp, a sharp intake of breath at the feeling as he eats you out like a man starved. Heat pools in your stomach and your legs begin to shake, and sensing you’re close, he slows down, slipping a finger into your entrance.

A moan escapes the confines of your tightly sealed mouth, loud enough to be heard, but it only eggs him on further, a second finger slipping in, his hand pumping in time to his laps. He moans against you, the vibrations sending magical sensations straight to your bundle of nerves, and your head falls back against the wall, your chest heaving with laboured breaths.

When he pulls away his mouth is glistening with your arousal, his pouty pink lips swollen and abused from the kissing before. “You taste so good, baby.” He whispers wantonly, his fingers maintaining their relentless pace. “So sweet, I can’t get enough.”

He swirls his tongue faster than before, fingers pumping furiously to bring you closer to the edge.

“Oh, fuck,” you curse, one hand tangled in his hair, fisting his locks awfully tight. Your other hand is tightly fisted in your mouth, teeth sinking into your supple flesh to stop any further sounds from escaping. The lewd squelching of his ministrations only serve to turn you on further, and with a final brush of your g-spot, you unravel all over his lips, a long drawn out whine filling the room.

You don’t know how it’s possible for you to get any wetter but it seems you do, a mixture of his spit and your slick dampening your inner thighs as he continues to work you past release. You squirm at the overstimulation, crying out with your hands pressing his head closer.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” he gets to his feet and presses a few sloppy kisses to your lips, your mouth opening to taste yourself on him. “But I want to see your pretty face when I make you cum. Take those off.”

He nods towards your soaked knickers and you don’t hesitate to step out of them; the less between you and him, the better.

He fumbles around with his zipper, fingers moving with practiced dexterity and his cock finally springs free, dribbles of precum leaking from the tip. You suck in a breath as he hoists both your legs around his waist, pinning your back to the wall and holding you by the thighs. You arms snake around his neck, tightening as you feel the head poke your entrance. Your thighs clench around him, prompting him to hurry.

“Please,” you plead, rutting your hips into his, trying to find his length.

“Please what? Use your words, kitten. Tell me what you want.” His hands grip your ass tightly, keeping you perched above the tip of his cock, his eyes locked onto yours, demanding you answer and voice your dirty desires out loud.

“I want you to fuck me, daddy, please,” and it’s almost pathetic, how desperate you sound, but you’re way beyond caring. Your head spins with ridiculous levels of lust and unfulfilled promises and you’re desperate to satiate every last one of them.

Without warning he lowers you onto his cock, his length sliding in and bottoms out inside you. Your mouth falls agape, a gasp rattling your rib cage. Shownu buries his head in your neck, suckling red splotches all over your skin, his teeth sinking in to bruise.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out as his hips start to thrust at a steady pace, your position against the wall allowing him direct access to your g-spot. “Oh my god,” your fingers find purchase in his locks in a desperate attempt to stay grounded, but Shownu has other ideas.

His breath is searing against your neck, muttering how pretty you look in pink, flustered and needy for his cock. Blessed with sizeable girth and length, he fills you up to the brim, each thrust more delicious than the last. His eyes are fixated on the sight below, staring in awe at the way he disappears inside you, the way you coat his length with your juices. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good. So tight, I can feel you squeezing around me.”

His hands knead at your supple flesh, squeezing tight before one hand flies up to knead at your breast through the lacy bra. His thumb flicks over your clothed nipple, eliciting a hushed gasp which he captures in his mouth. Your other hand grasps at the curtain, holding on for dear life as he pistons his hips relentlessly.

“Look at you, dirty little slut. So hungry for daddy’s cock,” he pants in your ear and grabs your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror.

To say you’re a mess would be an ultimate understatement but something about your dishevelled state only adds to the feeling in your gut. Shownu hoists you up even further, bouncing you on his length, so much so his grip on your thighs causes one of the stockings to rip. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember the lingerie hasn’t even been bought yet and you feel ashamed of yourself for behaving in such a way, making a mess of such perfect garments.

He growls, low and sinister in his chest as his hips stutter. Your hands slide under his shirt, nails digging into his skin and silently begging him not to stop. Slowing inside you, he senses your discomfort, your thighs aching and burning with the position he’s holding you in. He lowers you to the floor and bends you over the seat in front of the mirror so that, not only can your see your own reflection, but his too.

You flinch as his hand comes down on your bare ass, the sound ringing through the stall, your eyes squeezing shut and anticipating the next strike. He spanks you again, groaning as he watches your skin bloom a pretty shade of rose. You clench around him in response, your skin stinging, his lips lifting into a wicked simper. “You like that?” His voice is low and deep, slow and sensual, evoking the deepest feelings of salacity within you.

You nod, too lost in the countless sensations to give a comprehensible answer. Though it doesn’t seem Shownu is too fond of your silence, his hand coming down against your ass again but with more conviction.

“Yes? Yes, what?” His hips move at a torturously slow pace, your own hips pushing back to try and meet his and fill you up.

“Yes daddy,” you choke back a sob, forgetting that anyone could walk in at any moment.

He struggles to hold back as he feels himself close to release but is determined to satisfy you first. He laces his hand in your hair and pulls your head back, your back arching perfectly, dipping and dimpling in all the right places. You have a clear view of the both of you, sweaty and slick with each other’s love, panting and heaving.

“Please,” you sob, your legs shaking as the familiar knot in your stomach tightens with tension. “Please let me cum. Please.”

“You’ve been so good for me, baby,” he sighs into your ear, his thrusts becoming sloppier. “You’ve taken daddy’s cock so well.”

His other hand snakes around to your bud, rubbing circles with his nimble fingers and your cries start to crescendo, getting higher and louder with each stroke.

He bites his lip, stifling his groans as he leans forward and looks you in the eyes through the reflection in the mirror. “Cum for me, baby.”

And his eyes never leave your face as your legs start to give way, your orgasm powerfully ripping through your body and making your walls flutter around his pulsing cock. Your eyes squeeze shut but not before you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror; Shownu a sweaty mess, panting down your neck, benhind you.

“That’s my baby,” he praises while continuing to fuck you through your orgasm, your heat throbbing from the overstimulation but edging you a little closer to the promise of another. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, squeezing around me like that.”

And with a last, definite thrust and sinful, guttural groans he spills inside you, painting your walls with his seed. You watch as his face contorts into one of pain and mass effort, the relief of his release evident in the way his muscles relax.

“Shit,” he huffs under his breath, peppering the nape of your neck with kisses, reluctant to pull away. Still inside you he reaches over to grab your discarded underwear. “One more thing,” he whispers pulling away, fixing the panties and pulling them up. “Keep this on.”

“Shownu!” You exclaim, eyes widening in shock as his cum seeps from your entrance, soiling the cotton lining of the lace knickers. Your cheeks flush again, this time out of embarrassment. “I– I haven’t even chosen which one I want. And we haven’t even bought them yet–”

“I’m buying all three.” He states matter-of-factly, tucking himself back in and smirking at your stunned silence. He watches you carefully as you get dressed, removing the ruined stockings to replace them with another pair. “I want you to stay the night.” He blurts out avoiding your gaze, snapping the tag off to hand over to the clerk.

You bite back a smile and flutter your eyelids up at him, peering abashedly from beneath your eyelashes, a flurry of foreign feelings keeping your heart afloat. “I’d like that,” you mumble into your chest.

He quickly kisses your forehead, his thumb tracing over your lips before checking you both over to ensure you look as presentable as possible. You head over to the counter, absolutely mortified at the thought of having to interact with another living person, squirming in discomfort at the feeling between your legs, but it seems like the woman at the register is none the wiser. You place the sets on the counter, along with the empty hanger and Shownu slides the tag across, tapping it intently with his finger.

“Can I get another two of these, please?” He clears his throat and adjusts his collar once more, stealing a glance at you from the corner of his eye. “She looks pretty in pink.”

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