#they should’ve done class. who said that

[syverse]

i depend on you // ft. katsuki bakugou

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

bakugou can't bring himself to hate you, even after you left

warnings&a/n: if this is bad LEAVE ME ALONE PLEASE!!! got suddenly verrrry inspired by that one drawing on tiktok and maybe i misinterpreted it in the writing but shoot me who cares. this is like my first time writing something and actually finishing it i get so discouraged and give up. if you hate this i will never do this again.

In his life, there's a lot of things that Bakugou hates. He hates simple and unavoidable things like the rain, and he hates specific things like people who rely on everybody around them. He hates weak people, hates getting up too early in the morning, hates being too involved in other people's lives if he doesn’t necessarily have to be. But, as he sits alone at his desk, forced to listen to the obnoxious and overbearing sounds of society in Tokyo despite how late it is, Bakugo can’t think of anything he hates more than you. 

He spent a lot of his life loving you. He loved things like your unwavering conviction to do the right thing, he loved the look in your eyes when you stole glances from each other during class dinner back when you were both in highschool, and loved the way you whispered his name like a prayer when it was just the two of you under the covers of your shared bed. It was hard at first, but as the two of you grew together, so did his love. He learned to love through the sound of your laughter and the feeling of your gentle hands intertwining with his. Nimble fingers pressing into the palms of his hands before flipping them over and placing feather-like kisses on his fingerprints, he tries to swallow the bile that claws its path up his throat.  

Along with the symphony of nightlife outside of his agency, he can also pick out the faint sound of a news reporter being broadcasted on a billboard next to his building. Pictures of your face are shown on the large screen, along with the headline “PRO HERO TURNED VILLAIN” and Bakugou holds his breath for as long as he can. His phone lay flat on his desk in front of him, buzzing every few seconds from concerned friends and family members, but the blonde doesn’t dare to touch it. It had been at least a week since your departure from his agency, and the news had spread to all of Japan at this point, but the news and media were still eating it alive as if they were starving. 

Bakugou’s eyes glue shut as he wishes for memories of you to disappear, and for the heavy dread in his gut to fizz up and die out. He curses himself for not picking up on it sooner, the fact that you would leave. Looking back on it, he’s pretty sure he could put his finger on the exact moment when you started to fade away. When the universe in your eyes started to blur each time you looked at him, when the sense behind your touch became hesitant instead of gentle, and when your cheeks no longer touched your eyes when you smiled. He should’ve said something. Should’ve done a lot of things to at least delay your disappearance, but Bakugo was familiar with the fact that he was never good with words, and the fact that his heart was bottomless with fear of him making it worse. 

Bakugou absolutely hates you for leaving him here. He hates that he can’t throw every single I love you that came out of his mouth into a little box and set it to ashes, hates that he has to go back to home and still smell you on his bedsheets, hates that even though you’ve made it clear that you’re never coming back, he still patiently waits with bated breath to hear you whisper his name again.  So, as Katsuki picks himself off of his desk and drags himself to the elevator to return back his house, his house where you don't live anymore, he tries to convince himself to forget you, and ignores the way his tongue instinctively traces the letters of your name on the roof of his mouth.

[priestfrommidnightmass]

one of my personal favorite american vandal scenes for no reason is when sam puts an uncalled for amount of effort into an irrelevant side project to find the hottest mom at hanover and really it’s just a ploy to call peter’s mom hot and peter’s like hey. can i borrow that ruler you’re holding and sam’s like No. I feel like you’re gonna hit me. but hands it over anyway and peter absolutely does hit him and says through the most gritted teeth that’swhatyougetforputtingmymomonthere. i have it clipped who am i kidding

[whirlinglikeaballet]

.

[solace-seekers]

actually i am a genius and everyone else sucks because i had a coding breakthrough at 3 am and now actually have a game for my sdp final project

[starryjake]

revenge | s.j

in which you get your revenge on jake after the time he overstimulated you with a vibrator.

pairing: jake x fem!reader

includes: sub jake, use of sex toys (vibrator), overstimulation, drooling and crying kinda, cumming multiple times, kinda bondage (lmk if i missed anything).

jake was so pretty. absolutely exhausted jake who just wanted to cuddle with you and go to sleep was too, too pretty.

you just had to have your fun with him.

besides, he should’ve seen it coming. he’d done the same thing to you last week.

you were tired from a long day of work and classes and jake thought it was the perfect time to absolutely torture you with a vibrator. he made you cum so many times, you’d lost count, but you were so oversensitive that it hurt.

that night, you couldn’t wait to get your revenge.

and then it was time: when jake was so sleepy and dazed, bound to go along with what you say until he would realize what was happening.

“baby,” he said softly as you started nipping his jawline, clearly trying to get his attention. “i’m too sleepy.”

“i know,” you mumbled, your lips pressed against his neck, “but i wanna have some fun.”

jake looked down at you, his sweet, sweet girl. he never wanted to deny you of the things you wanted, even when he was as tired as he was.

“i just don’t know if i can do anything, sweetheart,” he said. “you can hump me or ride my thigh if you want. just don’t be mad if i fall asleep.”

“no, jake,” you whined, trailing your hand down his bare torso. “you need to have some fun with me too.”

you grabbed his cheek and attached your lips to his before he could even realize you were doing it. he instantly melted into the kiss, sighing against your lips and bringing his hands up to your hair.

“so needy,” he mumbled against your mouth.

he couldn’t see it since his eyes were closed, but you rolled your eyes. you were needy, sure. needy to see him get what was coming for him.

testing, you dragged your hand down to cup his bulge, feeling if he was hard yet. you weren’t surprised to find that he was. it never took him very long, even when he insisted he was too tired.

you stroked your hand up and down his clothed erection for a minute, getting him worked up enough that he would actually want to cum and take back what he said about being too tired.

you knew he was at that point when you pulled away from him entirely and he pouted at you, his facial expression asking why you stopped.

saying nothing, you reached into the bedside table drawer and pulled out the fully charged bullet vibrator he’d used on you last week. jake’s face remained expressionless, not catching on to what was going on. he really was tired.

you set it on the bed and went back over to jake, pulling his pants down to his knees. he’d forgone underwear since he was just going to sleep, his cock springing out and slapping against his stomach. he was fully hard, his tip a light pink color and drooling a bit of pre cum.

for a moment there, distracted by the sight of his dick, you forgot all about your plan for the vibrator. you wrapped your hand around his shaft and started slowly jerking him off, watching his face contort with pleasure.

it was only when you felt him twitch in your grip that you remembered your mission.

you let go of him, much to his displeasure, picking the vibrator back up. he watched you turn it on, the humming sound of it suddenly filling your shared bedroom.

“what are you doing?” he whined, lolling his head to the side. “just make me cum and let me go to sleep.”

you scoffed. he was such a brat, it only made you want to use it on him even more.

“i will make you cum,” you assured. “just close your eyes.”

“i’ll fall asleep if i close ‘em,” he said.

“you won’t,” you assured him.

he sighed and closed his eyes, immediately becoming more relaxed. his shoulders slumped and his facial features softened.

you didn’t waste any time and brought the little pink vibrator right to the tip of his leaking cock.

jake jolted in shock, his eyes flying open.

“what the hell?” he almost yelled. “what are you doing?”

“having fun,” you answered.

he reached out to grab your wrist but you stopped him with a menacing glare.

“try to stop me and i’ll tie your hands up,” you warned.

“y/n, please,” jake huffed, staring down at you running the vibrator around his tip. “you’re not using your vibrator on me.”

“you did it to me first,” you reminded him. “you used it on me until i was shaking and begging you to stop. and i’ve been thinking about getting back at you everyday since.”

“i’m sorry!” jake cried out, tossing his head back in either frustration or pleasure, or both.

he couldn’t deny that it felt good. for such a small vibrator, the pressure was there. he could feel it intensely pulsating against his tip, pushing out more and more beads of clear precum. you’d only just begun and he was already so messy.

“i’m sure,” you mumbled, gathering some of the precum with your other hand.

jake bit his lip, feeling a warmth spread in his stomach and he knew he was already close. it hadn’t been very long but his sensations were heightened from his exhaustion.

“i’m close,” he told you.

you didn’t stop or slow down. in fact, you ran the vibrator down from his tip to his shaft and back up, his balls tightening from the unfamiliar sensation. his back arched in a way that was so pretty, your eyes widening from how affected he was by the vibrator.

“go ahead,” you said. “go ahead and cum for me.”

with that, his jaw fell slack and he groaned loudly as ropes of cum spurted out from his tip, which was a slightly darker pink than it’d been when you started.

“mmm, fuck,” he moaned, head tossed back and hips thrusting up slightly to ride out his high. “oh, yeah.”

a sheen of sweat covered his chest and his rosy cheeks. his chest rose and fell rapidly with little gasps of air. he came for longer than you imagined he would considering you’d only just started, but you assumed it was because he’d never had a vibrator used on him before.

you turned the vibrator off for a moment, taking in the state of jake before you. a puddle of his cloudy cum coated his stomach and his eyes were shut. his chest rose and fell less rapidly, telling you that he was finally calming down.

“jake?” you said after a minute.

he hummed, his eyes still closed. it was clear he was right on the brink of falling asleep.

to keep him from doing so, you turned the vibrator back on and held it against the underside of his cock below his tip, his most sensitive spot.

he jolted, eyes flying open like they had before.

“oh, fuck,” he moaned, grabbing your wrist to try and stop you again. “please. i can’t.”

“you can,” you assured him, holding the vibrator and his cock all in your one hand.

“please,” he cried. “it’s too much. i’m too sensitive, y/n.”

“you’re okay,” you responded, thinking about how sensitive you were when he did the same thing to you.

“oh my god,” he nearly sobbed. “‘m cumming.”

it was so, so quick. only a minute in and he was already shooting out more ropes of cum, landing on top of the puddle that was already there, creating an even bigger mess of himself.

he whimpered, entirely shoving your hand off of him to give himself a break.

“what’d i say?” you asked, demeanor darkening.

“you’re not tying me up,” he declared, like he was in charge.

“wanna bet?”

jake’s big brown eyes widened, watching as you reached into the drawer again to pull out the silk rope. you certainly weren’t afraid to use it on him, especially if he was going to be pushing your hands off.

“don’t,” he begged. “please.”

“then stop trying to push me off,” you said sternly.

“but it’s too much,” he whined.

he was already keeping a close eye on your hand gripping the vibrator, weary for when were going to bring it back to his cock again. it almost made you want to laugh.

“you can do it,” you said. “you can be good for me, yeah?”

he bit his lower lip, hanging his head.

you brought the vibrator back to his cock, turning it onto the next highest setting from before. his poor cock jake gasped, instinctively grabbing onto your wrist again despite what you’d just told him.

“jake,” you sighed, growing frustrated.

“i’m sorry!” he said, immediately retreating his hand.

you set the vibrator aside and grabbed the silk rope. you grabbed his hands and pushed them together, tying the rope around them tight enough that he wouldn’t be able to touch you again.

jake had a little pout on his face like a child who’d just gotten scolded after getting in trouble. it filled your body with warmth, how cute he was.

“i just wanna make you feel good,” you reasoned, pressing the vibrator onto his slit.

he hissed, pushing his hips up. his abs clenched, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face from the intensity of the vibrator and from already cumming twice.

“i know, baby,” he said while exhaling shakily. “it’s just…a lot.”

“but i know you can do it,” you cooed, dragging the vibrator down a vein on his dick.

he clenched his jaw, the mixture of pain and pleasure so overwhelming that it was clouding his mind, slowly turning him dumb.

“i can’t,” he mumbled pathetically. “it feels so fucking good though.”

“i know, honey,” you cooed softly.

you weren’t sure if you’d ever seen him prettier. his eyes were glazed over, his cheeks and ears a bright pink, and completely covered in his own cum. you wanted to ruin him, make a mess out of your tired boyfriend.

he tried to squeeze the bedsheets, but he was so weak. he couldn’t express his pleasure other than desperate moans.

he didn’t even warn you the next time he came. it just started coming out out his red, used tip, drooling out slowly in comparison to the sharp ropes that were spurting out before.

you were were pretty sure you saw a tear a slip down his face and were certain that he was drooling. he moaned shamelessly, so out of it that he felt like he was dreaming. he’d never felt so fucked out in his life.

you kept the vibrator pressed against him while he came and didn’t remove it this time to let him calm down.

“oh my god,” he slurred. “baby, pl—oh fuck. i’m cumming again.”

less than 30 seconds than cumming before and he was already cumming again, which you didn’t even know was possible.

his load was smaller, but his reaction was bigger. he threw his head back, exposing his pretty neck. his entire body tensed and the prettiest, most desperate moans and whimpers came tumbling out past his lips, swollen from biting and drooling.

“fuck, i can’t stop,” he moaned.

you watched him, feeling the wetness pool in your panties from how beautiful of a sight it was.

the veins in his body throbbed, his muscles clenched, and he just a beautiful mess. his cock was drenched in his own cum, the vibrator slipping against him.

you caressed his leg, removing the vibrator from his spent cock. he let out a groan of relief from you finally pulling it away, of giving him a moment to breathe.

his eyes were closed, his entire body limp. you lifted his hands in order to untie the silk rope, setting his hands free.

you sat up on your knees, caressing his face until he opened his eyes again, looking up at you.

“you okay?” you asked, your thumb brushing his cheek.

“mhm,” he mumbled, even more tired than he was before. “that was fucking…insane.”

“was it too much?” you wondered, grabbing some tissues from the box on the nightstand to start cleaning him up.

“yeah,” he said, “in the best way possible.”

you chuckled, running your fingers through his sweaty hair, pushing it out of his face.

“go to sleep, okay?” you said.

“but can we cuddle?” he asked sweetly.

“yes, we can cuddle,” you responded.

“and can i be little spoon?” he asked.

“yes, jake.”

-

screaming. shoutout to the anon who requested this, i loved the idea so much! sub jake just….don’t get me started actually!

[hexhomos]

I love Mel through and through but I cannot find it in myself to say that her and Jayce should’ve continued romantically in season 2, or that meljayvik/melvik could ever work.

While she def did love Jayce in season 1 she did use him and viktor for political and financial gain. And her and viktor always hated each other (also viktors 100% a gay man)

Also I think even tho canonically labels and homophobia don’t exist in arcane it was def some form of heteronormativity that caused jaymel maybe like…. Classism or smth…. Idk 🙏

Mel and sevika is my favorite Mel ship because Mel should be with someone who won’t fold as easily as Jayce 😇

imho jayce/mel was always a relationship of convenience with a very clear economical stipulation of success that is planted all throughout s1 act 2 (mel literally walking out on jayce when he doesnt present his new gizmos on progress day bc she had already promised them to investors. lol. later on pressuring him to do a whole round of black market shakehands under HER inherited opera house which is used as a meeting point between all the corrupt topside politicians. do i even need to expand.) and its only made worse when the phony-ruler training stuff comes in and both ambessa and mel start competing to see who can manipulate jayce into making weapons for the empire faster. I've always said that storyline was inconsistent as fuck and it does a lot of flip flopping near the end of s1 (do you want weapons or not? it changes every scene.) but at least people cant call me crazy anymore bc they WERE grooming jayce into being the pliant triggerfinger figurehead and once that fails all the attention is shifted onto caitlyn, who's just so ready to fall for the bait.

Like this is why jayce brings up the investment stuff during the breakup scene. this is why mel is fighting with caitlyn against her mother at the end of the series as a complete reversal of her goals. This was supposed to be a Thing. Character development for this bit in specific was RUSHED AS FUCK since they wanted to put all of the political tidbits as far away from the core plot as possible but its still there when you look. The ''empathetic'' political stringpulling ambessa does with cait is one she has taught her daughter, and she perpetuates with jayce, who is ofc upset at all the bullshit when he realizes what's happened in the end. And that it didn't just impact him, but also viktor and the cities at large!

clean break was actually the best thing they could have done with both of these characters and for a second I didn't believe they'd HAVE the balls to do it, but I'm happy to be proven wrong lmfao! if jayvikmel has no haters im dead. I'm not even getting into that whole thing but it bothers me *so deeply* to see viktor defanged and made into a fogbrained centrist yes-man when his entire arc is about the fatal consequences generations of these rich oligarch games have had on the low class people of the undercity. One of the only scenes of him raging in the entire show is him showing his disgust for mel's weapon proposition, and we just forget that happened? nuh uh. not on my watch

[thesunloveschips]

Obsessed - Part 3 (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Nesta is even more delusional than Y/n. Azriel finally knows his woman is attracted to him.

Warnings: smutty fantasies, delusional bestie Nesta, Azriel right after a shower, Azriel in ONLY a towel, Azriel's tattoos, delusional Azriel.

Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)

****

Azriel had no idea what he was thinking when he let Y/n in his apartment. The same place he’d overanalysed to see where all he could fuck her. 

That’s right. 

He wasn’t thinking at all. 

Because he opened the door, saw her, and voila~ she was inside. 

She moved towards the kitchen and began hunting for plates. Azriel simply watched her as she made herself at home and owned the kitchen. 

Yes.

She did. 

Y/n owned the kitchen, the apartment, and she owned him. 

Azriel appreciated the domesticity for a moment before walking towards her to help. He picked out a bottle of wine and the glasses. 

When they finally sat down, a silence washed over. Azriel was getting the feeling that this was not a comfortable silence. “What happened?” 

“I should’ve at least texted you.” So that’s why she was gloomy. 

“Your classes begin tomorrow. You need to study.” He remembered that Y/n took academics seriously. 

“But I kept on remembering you and I promised myself I’d text or call after finishing one topic and then I read more papers and got carried away and now, it’s been three days.” She slowly quietened and started playing with her fork. 

“We’re going to dine and chat.” He deftly served the lasagna for both of them. “There’s nothing wrong here. Nothing weird or awkward. Nothing to worry about.” 

Azriel watched her nod at him hesitantly. She was still worried. 

“How can I convince you that everything is all right between us?” He asked, folding his arms and letting them rest on the table as he leaned forward to look at her closely. 

This woman, this wonderful woman, fretting because she didn’t contact him. She didn’t need to know that he already knew what was going on. That she was so immersed in studying that she did not have any proper meals. 

He also knew that she had rushed off to the supermarket earlier this evening and spent a lot of time in the kitchen. 

What he didn’t know was that all of it was for him. 

That information warmed him in an unexpected manner. 

“Hey.” He rose and reached her. Azriel turned her chair and kneeled before her. “It’s all right.” 

“It’s just, you’re so good to me and. . . I didn’t even call or text and now, you’re still. . . you’re still so good to me.”

Good? 

That wouldn’t do.

He was supposed to be the best for her. 

Good sounded like mediocrity in his own head but the word sounded like an achievement when she said it. 

Was this what she thought about him?

“It’s all right. We’re fine. You’re here. I’m here. We’re okay.” He patted her head gently. 

Azriel stood up, pulled another chair next to her, and readied a bite for her but Y/n shook her head. “I made it for you. You should eat first.”

Something in his head had just short circuited. 

He had just been hit with the realisation that she had cooked for him but to hear her say it was euphoric. 

“You’ll eat after I take a bite?” She nodded instantly so he took a bite. 

It wasn’t made by a chef who considered cooking to be an art for the world to enjoy. 

It was made by someone who wanted to cook only for him and not for the world. 

A taste prepared to be enjoyed within the privacy and security of the people that would comprise his home. 

“Thank you.” His voice was raw and tinged with much more emotion than he’d expected. 

This moment with her, her cooking, and him was simply so overwhelming. 

“You’ve done so well.” Y/n smiled brightly and a part of Azriel felt like he had truly achieved something in life. To make this woman happy and safe. 

This woman, warm as a blanket in early winter mornings, beautiful in the face of her entire life—he wanted his opportunity to cherish her. And he’d take it. He could be patient. 

Azriel did not ever remember doing anything good enough to deserve this woman’s presence in his life. But she was here and he’d keep her by his side. 

They dined sitting next to each other. And Azriel was acutely aware of everything she did. Every time those breasts heaved as she breathed. Those lips with a bit of cheese at the corner. 

He turned to his own plate, nearly scarfing down the meal lest he have another inappropriate thought. But the sight of his own fork reminded him of her mouth around her own fork. 

Y/n would look lovely on her knees and even lovelier with his cock inside that mouth. He’d wrap her perfect hair around his fist and thrust inside her mouth. And then he’d-

“Azriel.” She was sitting right next to him, and the height difference was enough for him to think about leaning in. 

That stupid bit of cheese was still by the corner of her lip and Azriel could nearly see how she’d look after he’d come in her mouth. 

“Are you all right?”

No, he wasn’t. 

He wanted that mouth. 

On his lips, on his chest, on his cock. 

“Yes.” A fucking lie. He was not okay knowing that the woman he was fantasising about was right next to him, eating a meal, thinking that this was just a neighbourly interaction. 

Azriel definitely didn’t have any neighbourly intentions towards Y/n unless you could count wanting to fuck her against her front door as one of those. 

Conversation continued as she told him about her classes, her education so far, and more things he’d already read in her report but with an addition of her own feelings towards them. 

She was not eager to indulge in her private life but she was very proud to talk about Nesta, her best friend since childhood. He heard a few funny moments from her past and bits and pieces about her family. 

At some point, he’d begun speaking. It was not just about being comfortable with her but also about wanting to tell her, and knowing that she would now know something about him. So he told her about his friends, his education, and a few things about his everyday life. 

When it was nearly eleven, he reminded her that she had classes from tomorrow. Azriel could swear he saw disappointment in her eyes as Y/n made a move to leave. 

He really wanted to kiss her. Tell her that she’d cooked really well. That he was thankful for her efforts. 

And instead of escorting her to the door, he wanted to take her to the bedroom where he’d undress her and kiss every inch of her. 

He couldn’t kiss her but there was something else he could do. 

And that’s how Azriel found himself watching baking videos as he retired to bed instead of taking a while to masturbate to his fantasies of Y/n.

****

Y/n was in a good mood after last night’s dinner but she felt guilty for not contacting Azriel. Her neighbour was so nice, so kind. He’d helped her far more than neighbours ever did and she’d just . . . forgotten him while she studied. 

She was well-prepared for her classes, met a few new people, toured the campus library, and returned to her apartment. 

She immediately FaceTimed Nesta. 

“Wait, let me just set this.” Nesta moved to the kitchen in her own shared apartment and placed the phone so that she could cook while they talked. Y/n had already done the same. “Now, before you spill, I have some news. Remember your ex?”

“Very difficult to forget his impact in my life.”

“Lots of trauma and insecurity, I know.” Nesta knew how condescending that creature had been to Y/n, always belittling her whenever she did something or was about to do something herself. And then he’d be a little hypocrite by saying that he’d support her choices while also routinely telling her to stop using her brain. “He got roped into a case of tax fraud and he got fired but he’s still a party to the case.”

Y/n remained silent but her wide eyes were enough for Nesta to understand that she’d been shocked. Nesta waited in front of the screen patiently. “Well. . . fuck him.”

“That’s my girl!” Nesta cheered. “Also, there’s a rumour floating among the alumni that he made some powerful enemies so he’s laying low or he’s underground or on the run or whatever terminology they use for people like that but since this guy is the worthless lowlife that hurt you, I’d prefer to say he’s in the sewer.”

“Hopefully, he’ll drown in the sewage.”

“Moving on, quite literally, to better things in life. Exhibit A: your hot neighbour. Have you fucked?”

“No. And I don’t think we will.” She had a good talk with him last night, absorbing his every word like a sponge but she couldn’t help but feel that he was not attracted to her in the way she was towards him. 

“Why not? He’s hot. You’re hot. It only makes sense that you two fuck.” 

Y/n looked at the screen, unimpressed. “I think he sees me as a sister.”

“Then go! Do incest! What are you waiting for?” Nesta waved her hands.

“We’re not related.” 

“Then do the step-sibling incest thing. We’ve already watched My Fault. It’s bound to be hot.” Nesta deadpanned. 

My Fault was a hot, forbidden romance. Now, that was another fantasy. 

“Wait. Why do you think he sees you as a sister?” Nesta came to the screen and started eating an apple. 

“Because he patted my head last night.” Y/n sighed. “It felt very sibling-like.” She began peeling the onions. 

“What happened last night?” Nesta was now curious. 

“I forgot to contact him for three days so I made lasagna as an apology.”

“Wait a fucking second.” Here we go. “You have that hot furnace as your neighbour and you forgot him?” Nesta sounded very much offended on Azriel’s behalf. “Are you drugged or something?” She opened a container and closed it. She kept it back and took out another container.

“We enjoyed dinner and dessert and conversations but I almost cried before we started.”

“Darling, men have to be dealt with very tactfully.” Nesta placed a bowl in front of her phone and began peeling potatoes. “If they see your emotional baggage, it’ll only be a big turn-off even when you only want a fling. For example, in my gym, there’s a trainor-”

“You joined a gym?” Y/n interrupted. “Why am I hearing about this now?”

“I have too much free time now that you’re not here so I joined a gym.” Nesta glared at Y/n and the latter kept quiet. “There’s a hot trainor and I know he wants to fuck me. But what am I doing? I’m doing what every reasonable, prudent woman would do. I’m ignoring him.”

“That’s probably not how you get laid.”

“I’m not trying to get laid. I’m trying to get railed. Understand the difference.” Nesta pointed her knife at the screen. 

“Laid is a romantic thing. Laid is when you lose your virginity. Laid is for sweet love making.” Nesta sounded a little disgusted while explaining ‘laid’ before her tone changed and she began her passionate explanation about what ‘railed’ meant. 

“Railed is for fucking against any surface because you can’t wait. It’s for throwing away your clothes and letting all the lust take over. Touching is for laid, groping is for railed. Do you understand?” Nesta waved her knife and Y/m dutifully nodded. 

“Maintain enough distance to let the sexual tension brew like a stew. But not too much distance to make him uninterested. And then soon, Cassian will fuck me like his life depends on it.” Nesta sounded gleeful as she revealed her plan. 

Y/n knew that Nesta was only going to fuck this trainor because she never did serious relationships. Y/n had been in one serious relationship which blew up on her face. And since then, it was unbearable to think of going for romance. “Cassian is your trainor’s name?”

“Nice name to moan, don’t you think?”

“Does he know you think that?” She began cutting the onions. Y/n thought that name sounded familiar. 

“Absolutely not. It’s only been two days. I’ll take some time. He’s already looking when I’m stretching and so now, I’ll do some specific warm ups that’ll make him realise that I’m a very, very flexible woman.”

“You bitch.” Y/n laughed as she stirred the vegetables. 

“I’m going to make him beg.” Nesta grinned evilly. “Enough about him. How do we get you to commit incest?”

“Did I tell you he’s older?”

“How old?”

“He’ll turn twenty nine in a few days.”

“You just turned twenty four. Oh, he’ll love it when you call him daddy.” Nesta smirked.

“I think I want to call him sir.” Y/n laughed. 

“Wait. That’s a good idea.”

“What?”

“Grocery shopping. All right? Show some cleavage. Stand next to him. Look up at him with the most innocent look. Okay? So innocent and holy that he should think you’re on the list of innocent people right after Jesus. And then say, ‘yes, sir’. Imagine the sex. He won’t even wait to take you to the bedroom.”

“I’m not really sure.” Y/n was hesitant. What if she ruined whatever friendship she had with him? 

The doorbell rang once. “Wait a sec. Nes, I’ll be back in a minute.” 

Y/n washed her hands quickly, wiped them on a towel, and went to answer the door. 

Azriel stood there, looking mindnumbingly sexy in a shirt with the first couple of buttons not. . . his chest. . .  tattoos and. .  . Y/n took a step back and nearly fell. 

Azriel’s arm snaked around her waist as he easily caught her and helped her stand up. 

“I received your parcel by mistake.” He whispered near her ear. 

“Thank you.” She probably squeaked. His hand was still on her waist and her eyes were shut tightly. 

“Y/n?” His voice was too deep, too dark, too bedroom-like. “Why are you hot?” 

“What?” Her voice was a mere whisper. 

“Open your eyes, Y/n.” Why was this man saying her name so much? “You feel feverish.” At some point, the back of his hand was pressed against her forehead. 

“I’m not. I’m fine.” She hurriedly explained. “Thank you for the parcel.” 

Azriel smiled beautifully at her. “I’ll see you around.” 

His hands left her waist and he reached his own door. Y/n watched as he entered his apartment, waved at her before closing the door. 

She closed her own door and ran to the kitchen to tell Nesta all about it.

**** 

When Y/n had been exploring during her first day of classes, Azriel easily infiltrated her house (he had a spare key, what do you think he bought the building for?) and set a few bugs to help him eavesdrop. 

Was it a coincidence that he made his appearance while Y/n was on a video call with her best friend, discussing and debating about fucking him?  

Absolutely not. 

He knew that Y/n didn’t like wearing her airpods unless it was necessary so her video calls were always  on speaker phone. He’d heard every bit of what both women said. 

The only thing that was a coincidence was that he was just about to ring the doorbell when the delivery man had appeared. He signed her parcel, claiming to be her boyfriend (which he would be) and when the delivery boy had left, he finally proceeded. 

Now that he knew for a fact that she was sexually attracted to him, he had to only seduce her. To coax her desires before revealing that he was always ready to fuck her. 

As for how he’d marry her, that was a little further away but he was confident now. 

If she ever called him sir, he knew he’d crack and explode. Y/n wouldn’t even have to do much and he’d fuck her ever so thoroughly. 

So he waited. 

He got his work done. A few meetings. Calls. Learned how to bake. 

He did get his chance to talk to her or go grocery shopping with her but she did not call him sir. 

The electricity was beginning to crackle between them when he spotted her looking at his forearms often. He’d wear henleys, roll up his sleeves, and watch as she drooled over while pretending he didn’t realise. 

How adorable was she as she checked him out not so discreetly. 

And how adorable would she be, begging and crying for him to stop. 

****

Azriel had finally perfected baking a cheesecake and it was kept for cooling. A few more hours and he could bring it over to Y/n. 

The doorbell rang and Azriel cursed. If there was someone other than Y/n on the other side, he’d throw them down the stairs. 

This was a bit inconvenient since he’d just finished showering. He draped a towel around his hips and took another one to begin with his hair as he headed for the door.

It seemed that there would be no deaths since Y/n was waiting for him. But the moment she saw him, her eyes widened and she looked like she’d seen a ghost. 

Why?

She looked damn good in that grey sweater and black jeans. Winter fashion suited Y/n. Sweaters were gentle on her curves, her legs were. . . 

Yes. 

Those were the legs he wanted around his waist. Minus the jeans, of course. 

She looked so fucking good but there was only one problem when she went out with him.

He couldn’t show her off as his wife.

As stated in the previous chapter, a lot of things would be sorted if he married Y/n. 

Azriel was ready to brood now that the reality of not being married to her slapped him. 

But then why was she so shocked when she was the one who looked like she was out to seduce him by existing? 

Oh.

He was in a towel.

And with his chest on display. 

He remembered that tattoos were an attraction for women and he had loads of them. On his fingers, hands, arms and chest. 

Was she attracted?

“Y/n?” He let the towel for his hair hang around his neck. 

“Huh?” She then looked at his face because she’d been staring at his chest for so long. 

How cute. 

She was attracted.

Did she know that all this was hers? 

This chest. These hands. These legs. And this cock. 

Everything was hers. 

Honestly speaking, he’d fuck her if she asked. 

“Come in.” He opened the door wider.

“You have tattoos.” She still seemed to be in a daze. 

He really had to put in effort to not smirk at her flustered state. 

Would she like the tattoos under the towel?

“Yes, I have tattoos. Come inside, Y/n.” He gently ushered her in before realising that he just brought in his woman inside the apartment. His woman who was definitely attracted to him and even more so, more that she’d seen him half naked. 

“Yeah. Um. . I was going to buy vegetables. Just wanted to see if you’d like to come with me or if you wanted me to get something.” She was looking at the wall now. 

What was this woman even thinking? 

That he’d ever refuse her? 

Hah! What nonsense.

Why was he even here in this country, in this apartment, if not for her?

Azriel walked over, tilted her chin with a hand, and met her gaze looking as oblivious as he could. “Is there a reason why you’re not looking at me?” 

Fuck it. He wanted her to look at her. What did he even look this good for if she was not looking at him?

“I thought. . Maybe you’d be uncomfortable if I looked at you. Some people don’t. . they don’t like that and I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable because of me.” 

“You have my permission to look.” To touch. To kiss. To suck. To fuck. She had all permissions since day one. 

“Vegetables?” She averted her gaze. 

Azriel restrained the urge to smirk. 

“Give me ten minutes.” He returned to his room, dried himself, dressed up, and returned to Y/n.

“Ready?” He asked as he wrote his watch. 

“You haven’t dried your hair.” 

“I used the towel.”

“It’s evening, Az. You’ll catch a cold. Where’s your hair dryer?” There it was. There was the confident Y/n.

“Don’t have one.” He lied so easily. He wanted to see what she’d do. 

She marched over to the door and opened it. “Well. Come on. Lock up. You’re using my hair dryer. Only then will you come with me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned. Azriel loved it when she bossed him around. This side of her rarely revealed itself. 

Y/n froze and then turned away to unlock her door. And Azriel did as he’d been told.

****

Has anyone seen Azriel half naked? Ever? 

In a towel? Bare chested? 

Droplets on that golden skin? 

Tattoos? Fucking tattoos? 

Wet hair? 

The wet dream? 

How in fuck had she not fainted? 

And why did she think she was being sensible by inviting him to her apartment? 

To dry his hair?

Well, he did need his hair to be dried to avoid a cold. 

She could keep telling herself that. 

And what the fuck was that chin raising movement he did? 

In that instant, she could think of nothing but his she wanted to be laid down on the wooden coffee table and fucked like they were all that mattered. 

A towel. 

A towel. 

A towel with a tattoo that it partially concealed. 

He had a tattoo there. 

She wanted to see that tattoo. 

And his cock. 

She wanted to kneel before him.

Did anybody in the entire godsfucking universe bothered to take pity on her sanity and tell her that this man was not just sexy but fictional sexy? 

No. 

Her sanity had evaporated at some point.

Because her knees were already weakening as soon as she laid eyes on him. 

And he’d raised her chin looking like a sex god from a dark romance novel. 

Y/n needed to kneel and bend and spread for him all at once. 

Y/n: Save me. 

Nesta: What happened?

Y/n: I saw him shirtless. In a towel. Only a towel. My sanity is deceased. And I’m so fucking horny. 

Nesta: Send pics ;)

Y/n: He has tattoos all over. I saw one of them which was partially covered by that  towel. It’s down there.  

Nesta: Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Y/n: He has a back.

Nesta: Everyone has a back.

Y/n: Wide shouldered, golden, tattooed back, with droplets. 

Nesta: Oh. Ohhhhhh. Ohhooohhoooooooo. You lucky bitch, you’re going to get railed. Scratch that back. Mark him well.

Y/n pocketed her phone before she got too delusional and brought the hairdryer. Azriel was sitting on her bed as instructed. She connected the appliance to the plug and gave it to him. 

He looked at her coyly with a stupid smirk before she sighed. “Fine.” 

Y/n switched on the dryer and dried his hair. She combed through with her fingers and Azriel looked more than happy to simply sit there. 

“You should do this if you’re going to wash your hair after lunchtime.” She wanted to sound stern but Y/n was busy thinking about grabbing his hair in other situations. 

“Uh huh.” He grinned at her like a cat. Y/n set the dryer down and fluffed down his hair herself. 

“All done.” 

He stood up and checked himself in the mirror. “Thank you, sweetheart. Now shall we get some vegetables?”

Y/n would have a heart attack at any time soon. She quickly texted Nesta, followed after him, locked the door and they left for shopping. 

Instead of heading towards the sidewalk, Azriel headed towards the line of cars parked on the side of the road. 

“Where are you going?” Y/n followed. She did not like how this man with his height and long legs just took two steps while she had to take four. She’d never really noticed before since he adjusted his pace to walk by her side. 

“My car is here. I had it sent over.” He then looked at her just before he opened the door to the driver’s seat. “Do you drive?”

“Yes?” 

“Do you want to drive?”

“It’s your car. I’m sure you don’t want a scratch.”

“I trust you.” He walked over and handed the keys to her. “You have a valid licence, right?”

“Azriel, you have to ask about the licence before you give someone your car keys.”

“But you said you drive.” This man had the audacity to look like a scolded child when, not more than twenty minutes ago, he looked like he could throw her around and fuck her all day, every day. 

At this point, Y/n needed an exorcism to help with her uncontrollable number of fantasies. 

The car was also huge enough to be fucked against. And she could bend over against the bonnet while he took her from behind but it was too cold at night for pants to be removed. 

“Y/n?” Azriel appeared in front of her like his existence hadn’t resulted in an unexpected number of filthy delusions that made her panic in his presence. “Ready to leave?”

“All right.”

And they entered the car. When they were settled and she started, Azriel began. “And if you want to go somewhere far just for the quiet, we can go now that we have a car.” 

“You love this car, don’t you?”

And Azriel went on a rant about how he’d purchased this one because of all that he fell in love with in this particular model. By the time he finished, they were already parked near the supermarket. 

Y/n removed her seatbelt and tapped his arm. “We’ve reached.” She smiled at him.

It was nice and fluffy to simply go on a drive and listen to him. 

****

It was so nice to just sit in the car. Azriel loved driving but he recently discovered he also loved sitting. And now that he was following Y/n with the shopping trolley, he felt even better. 

And all Azriel wanted to do was to embrace her from behind, kiss her cheek, and laugh with her at something stupid. 

It was simple and pleasant. To follow her with a trolley, to watch her frown at two containers of mayonnaise, to listen to her complain about how they should have separate section for panty liners and pads instead of putting them with baby diapers. 

She was a bossy woman, a side that revealed itself when they went grocery shopping. 

Gods, he wanted her to order him. To ride him and take charge. 

His grip on the trolley tightened. 

And just when he was beginning to control his thoughts, he saw the fire exit. The washrooms were built there. Nobody would see but he could simply hoist her away and fuck her there. 

The thrill of being in a public place did something else to him. 

He looked at Y/n and saw her waving at him with a container of something in her hand. He walked over to her and gave his suggestion on the chocolate spread. 

The only thing he hated in this routine of grocery shopping was when it ended and they went their separate ways. She’d go to her apartment and he’d go to his. And he hated that. He hated returning to a place where she wasn’t.

And for the first time, Azriel was not alone. He was lonely in the silence. 

****

Y/n knew she’d begun caring for her neighbour despite her attraction to him. That she’d started getting used to his presence in her life. 

It was only supposed to be sexual attraction but as hot as he was, he was also good to her. He cared for her and his every action proved it. 

She liked him.

She liked him. 

Oh god. 

She actually liked Azriel. 

Which sane woman wouldn’t? 

She didn’t care about other women. Other women could go drown in the sewer. 

What about her? 

This man was only supposed to be a one-time encounter from that club they went to for Feyre’s birthday party. 

And then he was at the airport. 

In the flight. In the same building. 

And now he was a part of her life.

And during that dinner when she'd brought him lasagna, when he asked her that question so seriously. “How can I convince you that everything is all right between us?”

Y/n had melted.

She looked at the apartment. This was just for a semester but Y/n loved this space solely because Azriel was next door. 

And at some point, she’d begun wishing he was here. 

She called Nesta and when her friend picked up the phone, she began crying. “I like him.” 

****

Taglist:

@fantanbietsson @angstylittleb1tch @fhgsvbnh @olive-main @cherryjain17 @halo-mystic @starofanotherworld @latinxbipride @viatorem-maris @acotarbestie @sevikas-whore @anthonys-viscountess @randomgurl2326 @thelov3lybookworm @cat-or-kitten

[luvyeni]

❛THE SINNER AND THE SIN❜ ( l. heeseung )

p. badboy!heeseung x fem!reader w. 4.7k+

— 𖦹 warnings. corruption kink, drug usages, virginity loss, unprotected sex, oral ( f. receiving )

authors note. this was supposed to be a short drabble but oh well ,🤷🏽‍♀️— 𖦹 ( heeseung never really liked church until he met you ) !

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

lee heeseung didn’t want a lot of things— he didn’t want to get up and go to school in the morning, or work with his day on the weekends to “keep him out of trouble” — even though that didn’t stop him from sneaking out in the middle of the night to smoke and drink with his friends

he also didn’t want to go to church with his family on sundays — well at first he didn’t, those people didn’t like him, and he didn’t care, the feeling was mutual— but then he met you, and suddenly he was ready for church every sunday; of course he never ended up staying, getting a few glimpse of you, getting up and leaving out the back where his friends waited with beer and other substances for them to try.

“the new pastors daughter? really?” his friends would laugh at him. “at least the last pastors daughter would give blowjobs to anyone who’d look at her.” jake said. “but her, look at her bro.” he’d just roll his eyes, chewing down on his lip ring as he watched you run to your next class; your long skirt flowing behind you, clutching your books as you maneuvered your way through the halls. “she’s running to class and we still have 10 minutes left and it’s gym class.” heeseung smiled to himself, the funniest thing about that is you didn’t even participate in the class, sitting on the bleachers watching everyone else.

heeseung didn’t see you that day; sunghoon suggesting they leave school to go get high at his house — but he knew he’d see you on sunday, even it was only for a few minutes.

“you know my cousin runs a camp for boys like him.” heeseung rolled his eyes at the older man in front of him and his mother. “have him fixed in no time, those scandalous tattoos and the unholy lip gone; all that dark make up as well, make him a good and respected boy, ready for marriage.” his mother couldn’t do anything but laugh awkwardly, something she always did when anyone questioned his ways. “i’ll get you the number at the end of the service.”

“put your jacket on.” his dad said. “its 70 degrees outside, and 80 in here.” he scoffed. “yeah well you should’ve thought about that before messing your skin up with all that scribble.” he said as the music started, they stood up. “you’ll sneak out in about 10 minutes anyway, for now don’t disrespect the lord with that garbage on your arm.” he threw the jacket over his arms annoyed. “thank you.”

10 minutes in and he still hadn’t seen you yet; normally you’re sitting right in front with your mother, legs covered by a blanket, hiding your legs that he'd gotten a peak of a few times before you were quickly covered up by your mother; he was sure she knew he was looking at you, of course she didn’t want her daughter being gawked at, especially by a boy like him.

his phone rang out, some people turned their heads, realizing who it was, shaking there heads before turning back. “do you mind?” his mom whispered. he took his phone out; reading the message from jay. ‘are you done staring at your girlfriend? get your ass on, jake is losing his mind without his weed.’

he tucked his phone away; standing up. his parents don’t even look at him, they’re used to this; guess he'll see you in school. walking out of place, about to make his way out the back. “you can go out the front you know?” a voice made him stop; a voice he’d only heard from afar until now. “you always go out the back, but the front is right there, they can’t keep you here, that would be kidnapping.”

he turned around facing you; your white blouse covered in red and wet. “my sister spilled her juice on me.” Your soft voice calmed him. “my favorite shirt too.” you mumbled to yourself, he smiled to himself, he was about to say something when the back door swung open. “hyung.” jake’s voice rang throughout the hallway. “hurry the fuck up, the beers are getting cold.”

your eyes widened; ready to turn and walk the other way— he was gonna kill jake. “wait.” he called out, you stopped mid walk. “here.” you turned around and he was shucking his jacket off, handing it to you. “to cover up your shirt, your shirt is white and it’s see through.” he watched your arms fly up to your chest, covering yourself, he chuckled; extending his arm out— he’d already seen it. “th-thank yo-you.” you said meekly, grabbing the jacket. “i-i’ll return it tomorrow.”

he nodded, a door swinging open again — this time it was the door to the church. “yn!” you heard your mother gasp. “mother.” you said. “yn get over here this instance.” you turned to the boy apologetically, your mother looked at the boy with disgust in her eyes, he scoffed under his breath. “see you around pinky.” he said, your eyes widened as he turned to walk out the back— your bra was pink. “what were you doing out here?” she asked. “and with that boy?” you shook your head. “nothing mother, just trying to get the stain out the shirt like you said.” you showed her the jacket. “he let me borrow this, that’s it.” You starred at the ground. “you can’t wear this, what would people think?” she exclaimed. “i have nothing else.”

“here.” she took her sweater off, handing it to you. “you are to give that boy his jacket back tomorrow and never speak to him again, you understand?” you nodded. “good, now let’s go listen to the rest of your fathers sermon.” she held your lower back, guiding you back to your seats, you held the jacket in your hand, the cute boy who you always watched leave the church; the boy you’ve watched since you moved here— he gave you his jacket.

“so?” jake slammed his locker shut. “was i wrong and is little church girl a freak?” jay rolled his eyes at the boy. “this is why we tell you not to smoke before school.” jake shrugged. “just asking a question, she looked pretty flustered yesterday.” heeseung frowned. “yeah cause she was soaked.” jake began to cheer— the people in the hall just trying to get to class, looking at the chaos the boy was causing— everyone knew where his mind went. “not like that you idiot, her shirt was soaked.” The boy high out of his mind let out a oh; the kids in the hall.

“i didn’t even get a chance to talk to her, dumbass over there ruined it and her mother walked out.” heeseung grumbled. “i gave her my jacket though so she should be coming around soon.” sunghoon spoke up. “that’s if her parents didn’t make her burn it, thinking it was cursed with some demon.” The group of boy erupted into a fit of laughter. “shut up.”

you sat your things down at your desk; you always chose to sit in the back by yourself; you preferred it that way. “hello pinky.” heeseung sat down next to you with a smirk. “wh-what are you doing?” you stuttered, he never came to first period, you started to forget he was in this class. “wanted to see what was so special about the back seat.” he shrugged. “its nice back here, might have to sit back here for now on.” he tilted his head. “that okay pinky?” you nodded, unable to speak, afraid of what would come out.

“i-i ha-have your jacket.” you said. “it-it’s in my locker, i can give it to you after school.” you could barely look him in the eye, he liked that, gave him a sense of power. “okay.” he smiled, the bell ringing, he stood up, your eyes following his tattooed arms. “whe-where are you going, class is starting, your not staying?” your eyes wide with curiosity, you looked so cute starring up at him.

“oh im not staying.” he said, watching your lips form a pout. “oh.” he smiled, did you want him to stay? “don’t be too upset baby, i just came to see you, i’ll see you later for my jacket.” your mind short circuited upon hearing him call you baby; he chuckled, watching you stumble over your words. “i’ll come find you yeah?” he said, you nodded. “good, i’ll see you then baby, enjoy your class.” you gave him a small wave as he left out the class, smiling to yourself, like a little girl given a new doll— a cute and tall and seriously tatted doll.

he had it all planned out— after a five minute curse out from jake for ruining his plans for “a girl who wouldn’t give you the time of day” — his words; heeseung ignore the boy, he finally got away from them, making his way back to the school, just in time to make it to the final bell, standing by your locker, waiting for you. “he-heeseung.”

“told you i’d be back didn’t i?” you shyly nodded, opening your locker. “h-here.” you pulled out his jacket, handing it to him. “you keep it, give it back to me when i drop you off.” Your eyes widened. “ta-take me home?” you shook your head. “my sister is home, if i show up with you she’ll tell my parents.” you frowned. “im not allowed to be with boys alone, especially.” you trailed off. “boys like me?” you nodded. “im sorry.”

“don’t be baby.” he said. “if i was your dad i wouldn’t want my precious baby being dropped off by a guy like me.” he said, lifting your head up by your chin looking you in the eyes. “he’s a smart man baby.” you felt your knees about to give out with the way he was looking at you. “w-will i see you at church?” he chuckled. “will you speak to me?” he kissed your cheek, your eyes widened. “don’t worry baby i’ll see you.” he let your chin go. “don’t miss your bus baby.” he said, closing your locker for you. “th-thank you.” you walked away, cheeks burning, his jacket still in your hand.

“you disobeyed me child.” your mother opened the door as you got ready for church. “what do you mean?” she opened the closet, pulling out the jacket you were meant to give back to heeseung days ago. “i strictly told you to return him his jacket and then you were to leave him alone.” she tossed the jacket to the floor, you picked it up, holding it to your chest. “what is this you’ve been accepting rides from him?”

it's true, after that day heeseung ask you again; and you agreed only if he dropped you off a few blocks from where you lived. “hanseuls mother saw you get out of his car, how long did you think you could hide this?” she shouted. “he’s a nice boy mother.” you said. “nice boy?” she scoffed. “you see the way he looks, hear the way he acts, he’s no good and he’s damned to hell.”

“i like him mama!” you shouted, it was the first time you shouted at your mother; it felt good. “has he done something to you, to make you act like this, has he tainted your soul?” you were frustrated. “mama are you asking if we had sex?” she gasped. “no we didn’t , he’s respectful.” You’ve never seen your mothers eyes widened. “what has gotten into you child? wait until your father hears of this.”

“nothing has gotten into me mother, but im 18, i am old enough to make these decisions on my own.” you said. “i’ll be off to college soon and i know nothing about anything, it’s like im stuck in a kids mind.” You said. “yn i- im not a child anymore.” you clutched heeseungs jacket. “stop treating me like one.”

the ride to the church was what you expect, your parents yelling at how you were pretty much damned to hell along with heeseung; that he was gonna lead you down a path of horrible decisions , to which you just starred out the window, blocking out the screaming until you reached the church.

you saw heeseung sitting outside the church inside his car, a crowed of people walking into the church— now it was your chance. “there he is im gonna get out and tell that degenerate to leave my daughter alone.” not if you could stop it; as soon as he stopped, you quickly open the door, running across the parking lot ignoring your mother and fathers calls.

you opened the door to heeseungs car; his eyes widened. “yn.” he saw you heavy breathing. “whats- please drive.” you looked out the window, your dad angrily approaching the car. “uh shit, he found out.” you nodded, he started the car. “please drive now.” your dad was about to knock on the window when heeseung sped off, leaving a cloud of dust in the wind. “shit.”

“my parents are gonna kill me.” he said driving down the street, you could no longer see the church. “screw my parents, your parents are gonna kill me.” he turned to you— you were starring out the window, much calmer than before; he smiled. “i can roll the window down if you want.” you nodded, he rolled the window down, the warm air hitting your skin, the sun shining down on your body. “it feels nice.”

“so little runaway, where to?” he said, you shrugged. “you ran away without a plan? rookie move pinky.” He teased. “it was my first time, and its blue today.” he smiled as your eyes widened; you clearly didn’t mean to tell him that. “good to know.” he said. “well you’ve already ran away and according to your dad committed 666 sins, what’s a few more?” he said. “lets go see my friends.” he did a u-turn, placing his hand on your thigh. “this okay with you?” you nodded, so he kept it.

you pulled up to a house, much bigger than yours. “jays parents are loaded and are hardly home.” he said. “this is where you always sneak off to when you should be in school?” he laughed. “little miss runaway judging me now.” you pouted. “cheer up pup, we’re gonna have fun i promise.”

“put that on.” he pointed to his jacket that you’ve been holding this time. “why?” you asked. “because i told you to.” He looked down at your outfit, your pretty white dress, these guys get off on girls like you for fun and he’ll be damned if he loses you to jay or worse— jake. “fine.” you put the jacket on. “how do i look?”

how did he tell you that you wearing his clothes made him want to take you back to his car and fuck you until the block knew his name. “you look cute.” he grabbed your hand. “will your friends like me?” you looked at him. “maybe a little too much, it kinda makes me not want to bring you in.” he said, holding your chin with his other hand. “you’re too cute for those guys to even look at.” he kissed your cheek, you giggled in response. “stop it.”

heeseung didn’t bother knocking on the door, just walking in. “his house is nice.” you said. “don’t tell him that, he hates it.” you nodded as he guided you throughout the house. “we usually hang out downstairs in his basement.” he said opening another door. “yo , jay!” he shouted. “down here heeseung.” he turned to you, fixing his jacket so it covered you. “they’re harmless most of the time, don’t worry.” he went first, still clutching your hand as you went down the steps.

“how was church?” you heard them laughing, the smell of marijuana hitting your nose. “what chapter did you learn today?” heeseung rolled his eyes. “dumbasses look up from the weed.” they turned to you, falling silent— you squeezed heeseungs hand, squeezing it. “hi.” you smiled, waving.

“yall see her too right, this not a bad trip.” all the boys turned to the boy who was laid across the couch in the fully done basement. “shut up jake.” heeseung guided you to the single couch. “sit.” he tapped his lap. “o-on your lap?” he hummed. “yeah.” he said. “or you could sit next to jake.” The boy smiled, obviously high. “i don’t bite.” jay laughed. “you just bit sunghoon.” heeseung pulled you by your waist, you yelp falling into his lap.

“yn would you like something to drink?” jay said. “jay has sodas upstairs, i can go get you one.” jake said attempting to stand. “is he okay?” you questioned. “jake? yeah, he’s under the influence baby, don’t worry about.” heeseung said, the grip on your waist becoming more tighter. “baby?” jake said. “shut up jake, don’t worry yn i’ll go get you a soda.” jay stood up, walking up the steps.

“so how did heeseung get you here, it is sunday after all?” sunghoon asked. “you are here on your own will right?” you laughed, heeseung scoffed. “she’s the one who ran away.” jake laughed. “you two are like romeo and juliet.” sunghoon shook his head in disappointment. “heeseung.” jake handed him off what you obviously knew was marijuana, that he’d been smoking and a beer. “no it’s fine, im good.”

“what your girlfriend is here and you’re trying to be a good boy.” jake teased. “jake.” jay warned coming back down the steps. “here yn i bought you a few.” you thanked him, opening one, taking a sip. “heeseung at least have a drink.” you turned to the boy. “you don’t have to hide anything, just do what you normally do.”

“you sure, i still have to drive you home.” he said. “you two can stay here for the night, heeseung normally does that anyway.” jay said, you smiled thanking him. “well then i don’t mind, my parents will have my head anyway.” he laughed, jake held out his hand containing the lit up substance. “you know you want you.”

so he did, letting himself get comfortable after a few puffs and a few beers; he was much more laid back, his legs were more spread apartment; man spreading— his hands low on your waist. “so yn are you and heeseung dating?” jake asked. “uh— yeah we are.” heeseung sat up straight, now his hard chest was pressed against your back. “chill bro, she’s all yours.” jake took a sip of his drink. “you got any pretty church friends?”

“jake put the weed down, it’s time you sobered up a bit.” jake slurred his words. “but im sleeping here.” he pouted. “doesn’t mean i want to take care of you.” you smiled, watching the boys fight the other to stop drinking and to take a sip of water. “whats so funny baby?” you felt heeseung rest his chin in between your shoulder blades. “your friends are really funny.”

“you think?” you didn’t notice to shift in his voice. “you okay?” you asked, feeling him continuously shift in his seat. “am i too heavy i can go sit on the couch.” you let out a gasp, feeling his arm wrap around your waist. “don’t move.” you finally heard the deepening of his voice. “you feel good.”

heeseung could normally control himself, but between the weed and alcohol running through his blood— the fact you’d been moving around in his lap for the past 3 hours, it was safe to say he was fully rock hard. “ar-are you getting sleepy?” you stuttered, you knew what he wanted, and you were ready— you wanted him to take your virginity. “heeseung knows where the guest bedroom is.” jay said.

“lets go to bed hee.” you stood up. “okay.” he stood up, still holding your hand. “its nice to meet you yn.” jake said, sunghoon sitting on top him trying to force water into the drunk boys mouth. “yeah good night.” the boy huffed, fighting on top of the other. “night.”

you made it to the room, opening the door. “come.” heeseung flopped down on the bed. “come lay with me.” he whispered; you kicked your shoes off, shredded yourself of his jacket; joining him in bed, sitting down. “no baby.” he chuckled, pulling you down next to him. “i want you to lay with me.”

his face was so close to yours, laying on yourside; his cheeks red from the beer, eyes matching from the weed. “so cute baby.” he fingers traced your jaw. “so cute, you ran to me today.” he whispered. “i like you heeseung.” you held his hand as he caressed your cheek. “oh baby i like you too, so much.” His breath hot against your face, making your breath hitch. “you wanna kiss baby?” you nodded, he closed the small gap.

his lips felt dry against your soft ones, but it didn’t bother you— especially with the way his hands was slowly pulling up your dress, you hips desperately trying to chase his fingers. “slow down baby.” he laughed against your lips. “i’ll give you whatever you want.” he finally found your panties, his fingers touching your clothed cunt. “just let me do everything.”

he was now on top of you, his knee in between your legs. “let me take care of this pussy.” you whimpered at his words. “heeseung.” his hand stroked your cunt. “gonna eat you.” he pushed your dress above your waist. “lets get you out of these, they’re all ruined anyway.” he pulled your panties down, almost moaning at your untouched cunt. “fuck baby, you’re so tiny down there.”

“st-stop it.” you covered your face. “don’t hide this pretty face.” he removed your hands, kissing your cheek. “i wanna see your face when i make you cum for the first time on my tongue.” soon he was face to face with your cunt. “you smell nice baby.” you let out a soft moan as he kissed your cunt. “heeseung.”

he held your thighs open, his nose brushing against your clit. “fuck heeseung!” you moaned out. “language baby.” he chuckled, licking a fat strip against your heat. “my baby doesn’t use bad language.” he pinched your thighs, diving right into your cunt, eating you up like he’d never tasted anything in his life.

heeseung was in heaven, he was no longer intoxicated because of the alcohol or the drugs— it was you; you were consuming his every being, your sweet cunt dripping into his mouth, your soft moans, your tiny hands pawing into the bed sheets desperate to hold something as he sucked on your poor clit. “heeseung it feels funny.” you moaned out. “stop please.”

he forced himself away from your heat. “that means you’re gonna cum baby.” he kissed the inside of your thighs. “don’t you wanna cum on my tongue.” you whimpered out as he kitty licked your clit, the feeling soon returning. “i-i feel it again.” you moaned, he hummed out in approval. “heeseung im gonna cum.”

the feeling was euphoric, your body felt like it was floating, your legs wrapping around his head as you came, he had to undo your legs from his head, as much as he wanted to die in between your cunt, he wanted to be first one to fuck you. “that felt good baby?”

you nodded, he took his shirt off tossing it across the room. “you want something better, you want my cock baby?” you nodded, he lifted your dress over your head, leaving you in your blue bra. “gonna take this off okay.” he unhooked the bra, letting it fall. “so pretty.” his cock twitching in anticipation, desperate to fuck you. “pretty tits.”

he toyed with your nipples, squeezing your mounds, using his other hand to unbuckle his belt. “you wanna see it baby?” you nodded. “ye-yes please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for, never been fucked before, you were ready to feel it. “wanna feel it inside.”

he groaned at your words. “fuck baby you don’t even now what you’re asking for.” he quickly pulling his pants off, letting his cock free, your eyes widened, you’d never seen one before, but he was definitely big and thick. “don’t be scared baby, touch it baby.” he guided your hands down his abs, groaning as you made contact with his length. “fuck baby, wrap your hand around it.” You obeyed. “good girl, now stroke it some.”

it felt heavy in your hands, he held the himself up on the headboard as you stroked him. “fu-fuck baby if you don’t stop im gonna cum.” he cursed. “let me put it in.” you let him go, he positioned himself in between again, letting his cock slap against your stomach. “its so big.” he smirked. “yeah?” he grabbed the base of his shaft. “gonna take all of it?”

he pressed his leaking tip at your entrance, you whimpered. “don’t be scared baby.” he slowly pushed inside you. “go-gonna be gentle.” his voice quivered as he forced himself not to stuff you full of his cock— he didn’t want to hurt you, but your cunt was sucking him in. “fuck baby your pussy is swallowing my cock.”

it felt uncomfortable the sudden intrusion, his cock slowly filling you up. “heeseung.” you whimpered. “i know baby, i know.” he pushed the last few inches in. “its in baby, you took me all.” he kissed your forehead. “good job baby.” his voice quivering due to your cunt squeezing his cock like crazy. “fuck baby, calm down my dick feels like its gonna break.” he grunted. “m'gonna move now.”

he slowly moved , dragging his cock along your walls. “fuck.” he cursed. “i love this cunt already.” he groaned. “so glad i was the first one to feel you.” he started to move his hips. “you feeling good baby.”

“so-so big.” You moaned. “c-can feel it in my st-stomach.” fuck— you were gonna kill him. “pl-please go faster.” he picked up the pace, the sounds from your cunt getting louder, right along with your moans. “don’t cover your mouth, let them hear you.” He grabbed your wrist. “let them hear how i fuck you.” you moaned out louder as he sped up. “i feel you tightening around me baby.” he hummed. “you gonna cum for me?”

you nodded. “good girl cum all over my cock, make a mess for me.” you let a few gasp, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came. “oh fuck.” he moaned. “you pushed me out when you were cumming.”

he rubbed his shaft along your swollen pussy , trying reach his high. “fuck, fuck baby gonna cum all over this tiny pussy.” he moaned. “fuck you’re mine now, no else can feel this pussy, it’s mine; gonna mold it to only take my cock.” you felt another high cumming, your cunt twitching. “you cumming again?” you nodded. “fuck me too, cum for me, one last time.”

Your legs shook as you came, he cursed stroking his cock until he came, coating your cunt in his seed. “there you go baby -fuck- cum for me.” cum dripping from the tip of his cock.

“fuck you’re so pretty; my pretty pretty baby.”

“fuck my parents are gonna kill me.” he said the next evening. “if the cops already aren’t waiting for me at your house to arrest me for kidnapping.” you pouted, you wish you could stay at jays with him and his friends. “don’t be sad baby.” he said. “just gonna drop you off, i’ll see you tomorrow i promise.” he said. “i don’t even have a phone to call you.” You said, your parents didn’t allow you to have one.

“take mines, i have another.” he said. “really?” he nodded pulling up to the street right before yours. “i’ll call you tonight alright baby?” he grabbed your face. “answer when i call.” he roughly kissed you, this kiss much more passionate, full of fire. “okay heeseung.” You got out the car. “you better answer my call baby.” He blew you one last kiss before watching you run down the block.

speeding back to his house so he can quickly deal with his parents, and then locking himself in his room so he spend the night talking to you.

©️LUVYENI

[wherethefireliliesgrow]

Make You Remember

Yoo Jimin (Karina) x Reader

GENRE: angst, fluff

TYPE: One Shot

Inspired by: Make You Remember - Lazy Weekends

A/N: i’ve been in a writing slump this year, but every now and then, i’d come here to read. recently, a few pieces caught my attention and reignited my urge to write. so, here we are! while revisiting my 2018 spotify playlists for a dose of nostalgia, i stumbled upon one of my favorite songs from back then—it felt like the perfect way to ease back into writing. (a little shoutout to 2cool-2die, her stories were what got me back into writing). anyway, hope you all enjoy the story!

“Stop staring at her like a creep,” Minjeong whispered, her large eyes narrowing in a protective glare.

Jimin couldn’t help herself. She had been watching you for the past hour—watching the way you threw your head back in laughter at something your friends said or carefully picked the tomatoes off your sandwich to hand them off to someone else. Her fists clenched at the sight.

You used to pluck off tomatoes and feed them to her, letting her play your knight in shining armor against your sworn enemy: tomatoes. It should’ve been her.

Oh, how she missed that smile you used to reserve just for her.

“Dude, I’m serious,” Minjeong hissed again, this time throwing a balled-up tissue at Jimin’s face. “This is getting out of hand.”

Jimin grunted in annoyance, lazily stretching her long arms overhead before sprawling out on the metal bench. Her head landed on Aeri’s lap as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

“I can’t help it. I miss her,” she admitted quietly, closing her eyes as Aeri absentmindedly began combing through her soft raven-black hair with her fingers.

“Well, you should’ve done better,” NingNing said flatly, taking a deep drag from her Juul. “She really loved you, you know.”

The girls expected Jimin to snap back, as she always did. Instead, they watched her deflate entirely, burrowing her face into Aeri’s stomach for solace.

“I know.”

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Jimin had always been sure of herself. She was proud of her decisions, every one of them. After all, she had transferred from one of the top universities in the UK to pursue her passion for dance in Korea—a choice that went against her parents’ wishes. They had warned her about the instability of a dance career, but she’d proved them wrong.

She had met Minjeong, Aeri, and NingNing shortly after her return, and together, they formed a dance group. Now in her third year of university, Jimin was part of AESPA, a group that had skyrocketed to fame after winning first place in a national competition.

With a growing fanbase, a promising future, and an upcoming performance in front of the president at the annual ceremony, Jimin had every reason to be proud of her choices.

Every reason—except for letting you go.

She had met you during her first year back in Korea. You were the university’s student ambassador, tasked with introducing new students to campus life. Since she was the only mid-semester transfer at the time, Jimin had the luck of spending the entire day with you, just the two of you.

You captivated her immediately. Your soft, angelic voice, dry sense of humor, and those big brown eyes that lit up with excitement over the smallest things���like the library. Jimin had thought you were the lamest, cutest little thing she’d ever met. And from that moment, she was hooked.

Jimin made it her mission to sweep you off your feet. Surprised but not surprised, you had plenty of admirers. You were popular, down-to-earth, and undeniably beautiful, the kind of person who effortlessly drew others in. That only made Jimin's task harder, pushing her to work tirelessly to win your heart.

To everyone else, you were the classy student ambassador, smart, athletic, and poised. But Jimin knew the truth: beneath all that polish, you were a total nerd. 

So, she went out of her way to prove how much she cared. She’d pick you up from class with your favorite snacks, even when her schedule was packed.

She once secretly drove across state lines to attend an anime expo, just to get you those rare Pokémon cards you’d been obsessing over…though she swore she lost at least a million cool points doing it. But every second was worth it when she saw your face light up. Jimin even sat through every Avengers movie, biting back sarcastic remarks just to see you smile. 

Before long, you were hers and she was yours. You found yourself snuggled into her arms during late-night movie marathons, or cheering from backstage as she started entering dance competitions.

You were her there to support when she doubted herself after losing a dance battle, always ready with a hug and soft kisses. You were AESPA's unofficial fifth member, helping them set up for street performances and cheering louder than anyone else when they won.

And when AESPA skyrocketed to fame, you stood faithfully by her side, despite the growing distance you felt creeping in. 

But fame did something to Jimin. Slowly, the girl who once drove hours for Pokémon cards began to lose sight of the things that mattered. You were the first to notice the changes. Jimin started craving the spotlight more than anything else, and you quietly faded into the shadows.

You stopped bringing up your hobbies after a fan on her livestream mocked you for being childish. You stopped asking her for late-night drives when her excuses became more frequent. And you stopped waiting for her to notice how tired you looked, how empty you felt. 

She didn’t notice when you began packing up your prized Pokémon collection, throwing it all away as if erasing a piece of yourself. She didn’t notice when you started leaving events early, hiding the hurt behind a polite smile. Jimin was so caught up in her world of adoration, flashing lights, and applause that she failed to see you slipping through her fingers. 

She didn’t notice until it was far too late. By the time she turned around, desperate to hold onto what was left, you were already gone. She had lost you. And in losing you, she lost the part of herself that had once felt complete.

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.

“C’mon, Jimin. Get out of your head.” Jimin slapped her forehead in frustration as she stumbled through the routine once again.

The sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor was followed by a collective groan from the rest of the girls, who collapsed onto the studio floor in exhaustion. AESPA was under pressure. They were supposed to perfect a dance routine for a massive ad collaboration, a career-defining moment. But with finals looming and the team juggling school and practice, their patience was wearing thin. 

“I’m really sorry, guys,” Jimin said quietly, glancing at her exhausted teammates sprawled on the floor.

Aeri’s pink hair stuck to her damp face, and Minjeong lay flat on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling like she’d lost her will to live. 

“It’s been three months, Jimin.” NingNing sighed, rubbing her temples. “When are you going to get over her? This isn’t like you.” 

“I’m trying,” Jimin muttered, her gaze locked on her scuffed sneakers, her throat tight with unshed tears. “But at the same time…I don’t want to.” 

“Well, what do you want, then?” Aeri asked, sitting up with a tired glare.

She was drained. She was tired of practice, of exams, and most of all, of watching her leader spiral into a deep abyss of self-hatred and regret in front of her. 

Jimin hesitated, her dark brows knitting together as if weighing the weight of her answer.

“I want her back,” she finally admitted. “I want Y/N back.” 

“Absolutely not,” Minjeong snapped, suddenly sitting up and joining the conversation. Her arms crossed, and her expression was livid. “You broke her, Jimin. You fucking broke her heart.” 

Jimin lowered her head, guilt weighing heavy on her shoulders, but her she had already made this decision days ago. After finding one of your old LEGO pieces buried under her bed, a reminder of simpler, happier times, she had cradled it in her hands and cried like a baby.

That night, she spiraled into a social media stalking session, scrolling through your photos, searching for any trace of the love she had destroyed. That was when she decided she’d do whatever it took to make things right. 

“I’ll treat her right this time,” Jimin whispered, her voice trembling.

“I’ll do anything to make her happy.” 

Minjeong stood abruptly, storming over to Jimin, her smaller frame radiating fiery anger. Despite the height difference, Jimin instinctively cowered under Minjeong’s glare. 

“Do you know how many times she came to me crying in the middle of the night because you couldn’t even show up for a date? How insecure you made her feel? How your stupid fangirls tore her apart?” Minjeong jabbed a finger into Jimin’s chest with every accusation.

“She’s my best friend, Jimin. I won’t let you hurt her again. She gave you everything. She gave you so many chances, and you let her down every single time.” 

The room crackled with tension as Jimin’s lips parted to respond, but no words came out. Sensing a fight about to break out, NingNing and Aeri hurriedly stepped between the two girls. 

“Hey, now’s not the time to fight,” NingNing said gently, wrapping her arms around Minjeong’s shoulders to pull her back. “We all care about Y/N, okay? Let’s take a second.” 

“Please,” Jimin pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. Tears rimmed her eyes, but there was an earnestness in her tone that softened her hardened edges.

“Just give me a chance. I swear I’ll never hurt her again.” 

“No. No fucking way,” Minjeong snapped, her voice firm. 

“How about we let Y/N decide herself?” Aeri suggested cautiously, flinching slightly under Minjeong’s searing glare.

“Jimin can talk to her. If she says no…then that’s it. Jimin walks away and never bothers her again.” 

The blonde hesitated. She knew how deeply you had loved Jimin and how much it had cost you when things fell apart. Letting Jimin reach out could undo all the progress you’d made. But at the same time…if she stopped this, would you resent her for it? 

With a heavy sigh, Minjeong finally relented. “Fine. Just one sentence. If she reacts badly to whatever you say, you stay the hell away from her. For good.” 

Jimin’s lips curved into a genuine smile for the first time in months, a smile full of hope, the kind that crinkled the corners of her eyes.

“One sentence is more than enough to make her remember.”

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.

.

They say the easiest way to someone's heart is through their stomach, so Jimin threw herself into her first mission with relentless determination. The five-hour drive to Busan and back didn’t faze her—this was for you. She needed to remind you of the small things, the little joys you used to share.

The memory of your trips together flooded her mind: your hand in hers, your voice belting off tune to whichever K-pop song was stuck in your head, and your infectious laughter filling the car. She prayed to the gods to hear that laugh again. 

By the time she returned to Seoul, the darkness of the night had already cloaked the streets. Armed with the pink box of macarons from your hometown bakery, Jimin’s heart raced with anticipation and dread. Aeri had passed along a tip (reluctantly overheard from Minjeong, who would never willingly disclose your whereabouts to Jimin) that you were working a shift at the local bistro. 

When Jimin walked into the cozy bistro, the soft chime of the bell drew attention from other patrons. Murmurs rippled through the room as people recognized her, AESPA’s leader, a rising star. But Jimin’s focus was on you. Only you. 

You stood behind the counter, your hair tied up in a messy bun, concentrated on preparing a tray of drinks. You weren’t as put-together as you are in school, with your crisp white shirt bearing faint creases, but to Jimin, you were as breathtaking as ever. 

She made her way to the counter, sitting directly in front of you. She waited, patient and quiet, as you prepared another Long Island, your tongue sticking out in concentration. 

“Hi, sorry for the wait. What can I—” You froze mid-sentence as your eyes met hers.

Recognition flickered across your face, followed by a flash of pain. Your expression changed into something cold, guarded. 

“No.” Your tone was flat, final. “Please leave.” 

Jimin didn’t flinch. Her gaze softened, a melancholic smile tugging at her lips. She didn’t respond, she couldn’t. Not yet, she only had one chance. All she knew was that seeing you here within an arms length, was enough to momentarily soothe the ache in her chest. 

As much as you tried to suppress it, your heart betrayed you, fluttering at the sight of her. Jimin looked effortlessly stunning, her leather jacket rolled up to reveal familiar tattoos snaking down her forearm. She was exactly how you remembered and yet entirely different. 

She stared at you for another moment, her silence unnerving. Her eyes brimmed with emotions you couldn’t understand. Finally, Jimin rose to her feet, placed the pink box on the counter, and lightly squeezed your arm before turning to leave. 

You stared at the box, stunned, your mind reeling. It was from your favorite bakery in Busan, the one she had driven hours to visit countless times when you were together. Your chest tightened as you realized the lengths she must’ve gone to for this gesture. 

But you couldn’t let yourself fall for her again. Not this time. 

“I’ll be right back!” you yelled to your coworker, grabbing the box as you stormed out of the bistro.

The cold November air bit at your skin as you scanned the street for her. 

You found her leaning against a lamppost, a cigarette dangling from her lips. The sight stopped you in your tracks. When had she started smoking again? Fury flared in your chest. You strode toward her, plucking the cigarette from her fingers and tossing it to the ground. 

“What the hell, Jimin?” you snapped, glaring at her. “I thought you quit.” 

She continued to stay silent, her dark eyes fixed on you as if trying to engrave your face in her memories.

Your anger wavered. You shouldn’t care. You couldn’t care. Not after everything. Shoving the pink box back into her hands, you hissed, “Don’t ever come to this bistro again.” 

The words tasted bitter, and regret coiled in your stomach the moment they left your lips. But you couldn’t take them back. Not now. 

Jimin nodded wordlessly, her lips curling into a soft, bittersweet smile—one that inexplicably cut deeper than any argument could. With that, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the cold night. 

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.

.

.

It seemed after that night, Jimin had made it her mission to claw her way back into your life, whether you wanted her to or not. She didn’t speak, didn’t push, but her presence was always there, an unspoken reminder of everything you’d once shared.

You could feel her eyes on you during lunch, lingering from across the cafeteria as if she thought she could will you to look back. Even on your way to work, you swore you’d catch her silhouette in the distance, leaning against a lamppost or sitting on a nearby bench, always careful not to cross any boundaries but still there.

The weekends were no escape either. When AESPA was invited to perform at the school fair you unfortunately was in charge of organizing, it felt like fate, or perhaps Jimin, was mocking you. She stood front and center, capturing attention with her effortless charm, but every so often her eyes would search for yours in the crowd, a desperate glance that left you feeling raw and exposed.

What annoyed you most, though, was her silence. She never spoke to you, never tried to bridge the impossible gap between you. And yet, as much as it infuriated you, you hated to admit how much you missed her voice.

The way it would rasp slightly in the mornings when she whispered sweet nothings into your ear, or the confident drawl she carried when talking to others.

This Jimin, silent and unsure, almost timid, felt like a stranger. It was disarming, and you weren’t sure if you hated her for it or if it broke your heart just a little more.

As much as you tried to build walls around yourself, Jimin had a way of chipping at them, bit by bit, with gestures that felt achingly familiar.

One evening when you finally left the library, you found a gift on the hood of your car, neatly wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine, was a book you had mentioned loving once, years ago before you got together with her, a rare edition of poetry that you never got the chance to buy.

Tucked inside was a small card with her unmistakable handwriting:

For when you need an escape.– J

Your heart twisted painfully, remembering how she used to surprise you with little things like this, whether it was a book, a drink she knew you loved, or a random trinket that reminded her of you.

Another day, on your way home from a long shift, you found her waiting by the campus fountain. She didn’t approach, didn’t say anything, just held out a single stem of a sunflower, your favorite flower, the kind she used to bring to your dorm every time you aced an exam.

You wanted to yell at her, to demand why she was doing this now, but instead, you took the flower silently, clutching it tightly all the way home.

The memories came rushing back. The way she used to sit with you for hours in the library, pretending to study but really just stealing glances at you over the top of her books. How she’d wake up early to walk you to class, even if it meant cutting her own sleep short. The nights she stayed up late with you on the phone, talking about nothing and everything until you both fell asleep to the sound of each other's breathing.

Jimin knew exactly how to unravel you, and she was relentless in her quiet persistence.

Another day, after a particularly stressful day, you find yourself staring at a box left outside your apartment. Inside was a Slowpoke doll (you used to call her your SlowPoke because she was always running late and had a knack for falling asleep in random places) and a note: 

I know how these made you feel like you weren’t good enough, but these are the things I love about you. All your interests, your little habits…don’t stop.

You shoved the box under your bed in a haze of shame and anger. You’d given up your obsession with Pokémon long ago, sacrificing that part of yourself just to appease her fans and their cruel remarks. But as the days stretched on, your resolve wavered. You caught yourself glancing at the box more often than you cared to admit, the memories flooding into your mind. 

Eventually, you couldn’t help yourself. With a reluctant sigh, you pulled the Slowpoke doll from the box and placed it on your bed. That night, you held it close as you drifted off to sleep, comforted by a piece of the past you thought you’d lost. 

Each gesture tugged at the guarded heart. You hated her for how easily she slipped back into your life, even as you found yourself clutching the flower she’d given you, rereading her notes late into the night, and biting your lip to suppress the warmth spreading in your chest.

You hated her, and yet, you couldn’t deny your feelings for her. You never could.

.

.

.

.

You wrapped your scarf tightly around your neck, shielding yourself from the brisk evening wind as you waited for Minjeong outside the movie theater.

The newest Marvel movie had finally been released, and although you’d downplayed your excitement, your heart raced. Your lame obsession with Avengers had always been a sore spot, especially since Jimin’s fangirls used it to mock you mercilessly.

Over time, you tried to bury that part of yourself, to hide how much you still adored superheroes. It was easier than facing the ridicule—or the memories tied to it. 

When Minjeong, your best friend since elementary school, asked if you wanted to see the movie, you hesitated at first. But her easy acceptance of your quirks had always been earnest, so you agreed.

The sound of tires crunching gravel pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked up to see a sleek black Mercedes pulling into the parking lot. Minjeong stepped out, her face drawn in a disgruntled scowl. She spotted you and quickly brightened, crossing the space in a few brisk strides before pulling you into a warm hug. 

“Hey, Y/N-nie. Have you been waiting long?” she asked, her voice light, though her body was stiff against yours. 

You shook your head, but something about her demeanor made you pause. Your gaze drifted back to the car, the sleek black exterior gleaming under the parking lot lights. A pit formed in your stomach as realization hit. 

“Was that… Jimin?” you asked cautiously. 

Minjeong froze. Her jaw tightened, her grip on your arms faltering slightly before she let out a resigned sigh. She avoided your eyes as she nodded.

“Yeah,” she admitted reluctantly. 

“She’s the one who asked me to bring you here,” Minjeong added after a pause. Her tone was careful, measured, as though she were treading on thin ice. “She even bought the tickets beforehand.” 

You blinked at her, stunned. 

“I didn’t want to do it,” Minjeong continued quickly, frustration in her voice. “I told her this was a bad idea, but…” She trailed off, biting her lip as her gaze dropped to the ground.

“She was persistent.” 

Your heart did a strange flip at that. You could almost picture Jimin sitting across from Minjeong, stubborn as ever, insisting that she take you to the movie. She must have known showing up herself would only push you away, so she found a way to make sure you’d still see it. It was so… Jimin. Thoughtful in a way that made your chest ache. 

“She’s been doing things like this for weeks,” Minjeong muttered, almost to herself. “Little things. She thinks they’ll fix everything.” Her round eyes flickered with an anger she didn’t bother to hide.

“I told her to leave you alone. I told her you didn’t need her messing things up again.” 

“She hasn’t been bothering me,” you said softly, reaching out to squeeze Minjeong’s hand in reassurance when her voice grew sharp.

“I promise, Jeongnie. She hasn’t done anything. Don’t worry.” 

Minjeong’s shoulders sagged slightly, but her lips pressed into a tight line. “Has she talked to you yet?” 

You shook your head. “No. Weirdly, she hasn’t said a word. Just… left some gifts every now and then.” 

At that, Minjeong’s eyes widened, and she groaned, slapping her forehead.

“I’m so stupid,” she muttered, half to herself. 

“What?” you asked, confused by her sudden exasperation. 

She shook her head quickly, waving the question away. “Nothing. Come on, let’s go inside. The movie’s about to start.” 

As she guided you toward the theater, her arm looped protectively through yours. Though Minjeong was close friends with the leader, it was clear she didn’t like Jimin trying to worm her way back into your life.

You could see it in the tightness of her jaw, the subtle furrow in her brow. She didn’t trust Jimin. Not her promises, not her intentions, and certainly not her ability to heal the wounds she’d caused. After all, it had been Minjeong who had patiently helped you piece yourself back together, bit by bit.

And yet, the fact that she’d brought you here today, using Jimin’s tickets, betrayed the tiny sliver of hope she held for her.

.

.

.

.

This was the fifth time that day Jimin walked past the bistro, casually peering through the windows with her hands stuffed in her leather jacket pockets before walking away.

You watched her each time, fidgeting, kicking the ground with her boots, looking like she wanted to step inside but was holding back. It was endearing, not that you’d admit it. But every time, she chose to walk away, opting to follow your words from before instead.

It had begun to snow, and you couldn’t stop yourself from worrying.

“Stupid oaf,” you muttered, before slipping outside to call out Jimin’s name.

She was already on her sixth round of circling the bistro, her slender figure blending into the gray snowfall.

“Yoo Jimin!” You called, your breath forming a cloud in the cold air.

The raven-haired girl stopped in her tracks, her shoulders stiffening before she slowly turned around to look at you. A nervous grin tugged at her lips, and your heart fluttered involuntarily.

“Just…just come in.” You sighed, avoiding her gaze.

Jimin’s face lit up, her eyes sparkling with glee like a little kid as she quickly made her way over.

You led her through the busy bistro, past the tables full of customers, to the counter, exactly where she had sat the first time she came. You couldn’t help but feel self-conscious at the way she was staring at you, her face resting in her palms, eyes wide and starry.

Sighing, you pushed the menu to her. “What do you want to order?”

Jimin merely looked at you, a silly smile gracing her lips. Your eyes flickered to it, momentarily lost in the soft curve of her mouth and her luscious lips, before quickly looking away.

“Fine.” You mumbled, quickly pouring her a cup of warm coffee.

Fortunately, you were distracted by the steady stream of orders. It was a Saturday night, after all, and that meant people were coming in for drinks. You were busy making drinks, serving them, but with Jimin there, it felt different, lighter, happier.

That was when Joon, a usual customer and a tall, blurry figure, stumbled over to the counter, clearly drunk. You tensed instantly. Joon was always handsy when he drank, more often than not, and you always tried to stay out of his way.

“Y/NNNNN,” he slurred, leaning way too close for comfort, his breath heavy on the counter.

Jimin’s eyes narrowed, and you saw the muscles in her jaw clench.

“I missed you,” Joon continued, leaning forward, his gaze lingering in a way that made your stomach churn.

“How about we go on a date? My place is just around the corner.”

“I’m not interested, Joon.” You pushed back, trying to create some space. “Please, leave me alone.”

Joon’s expression twisted into something more sinister, his hand suddenly reaching over the counter to grab your arm, his fingers digging into your skin. You winced at the pressure, red marks forming on your arm as he held you tight.

That’s when Jimin had had enough. She stood up, towering over him, her height equal to his, but with a quiet strength that commanded attention.

“Get. Your. Hands. Off. Her.” Her voice was cold, and before you could react, she pushed Joon off, sending him stumbling backward into the wall.

Joon recovered quickly and swung at Jimin, narrowly missing her face by a hair. You stepped forward, panic flooding your chest, quickly pulling Jimin away from him.

“Let it go, Jimin,” you urged, your voice shaky as you tugged her close to you. “Please, stop.”

Jimin hesitated, her eyes softening as she looked at you. She reached down and gently cradled the arm that Joon had grabbed, her cold fingers brushing over the tender skin, sending a shiver up your spine.

“I’m okay,” you said, trying to reassure her.

She looked like she was about to say something when a yell from your coworkers snapped your attention back to the scene. You turned just in time to see Joon charging forward, having managed to break free from the grip of your coworkers. His fist collided with Jimin’s temple with a sickening crunch, and she crumpled to the floor.

You screamed, panic rising as onlookers rushed to contain Joon. Jimin lay motionless, and you immediately knelt by her side, heart racing.

“Jimin?” You screamed, rushing to her side. The blood had already begun to trickle down her temple, and a bruise was swelling rapidly.

You knelt beside her, panic clawing at your chest. “Jimin? Baby? Please, wake up.”

You cupped her pale face in your trembling hands, her skin cool against your palms. She was so still, and it terrified you.

After a few moments of desperate attempts to rouse her, her eyelids finally fluttered open, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.

“Oh thank god,” you sighed out in relief, your chest tightening as her eyelids slowly fluttered open.

“Jimin? Can you hear me?”

Her cheeks were squished as your hands cupped her face. You might have found it cute if you weren’t so worried. Her dazed expression and the way her chubby cheeks puffed out only made your heart ache more.

“Am I dreaming?” she asked, a dopey smile still lingering on her lips.

You leaned back, running a hand through your hair in relief and exasperation.

“No, Jimin,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You just got punched. This is very real.”

Her grin faltered in realization. Her eyes widened in horror as she scrambled to sit up.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered, groaning in embarrassment, her hands shooting up to touch her tender forehead.

“Please forget I said anything. Please.”

She couldn’t believe that she wasted her only chance, her only sentence, just to ask her if you were real.

You reached out, gently stopping her from touching her injury. “Don’t touch. You’re bleeding.”

Your manager let you leave early after apologizing repeatedly to Jimin. After all, one of the biggest rising stars had just been injured in his bistro.

Jimin smiled good-naturedly and shrugged off his apologies, clearly not phased. She had refused to go to the hospital for a check-up, and unable to stop yourself, you found yourself driving her back to your apartment.

You promised yourself this was a one-time thing, that you were just being a caring, responsible friend. Anyone would’ve done the same for her, right?

As you led her into your room, she glanced around, the familiar space tugging at something in her heart. Her eyes landed on her sweatshirt that she had lost so long ago, still draped casually over the chair.

She noticed the absence of the photos on your vanity mirror, ones that once captured all the memories of the two of you. But, then, her gaze softened as it settled on the SlowPoke doll still sitting on your bed. Her heart skipped a beat. You had kept it.

You still cared, even if you seemed so distant, so far away.

Maybe, just maybe, you hadn't forgotten her love.

You paused in your tracks as you saw Jimin poking at the SlowPoke on your bed. You turned a brilliant shade of pink, flustered, before quickly ushering her to sit down so you could tend to her wound.

"Don't move," you muttered, your voice softer than you intended as you reached up gingerly to disinfect the cut on her temple.

She winced and hissed in pain but didn’t pull away, remaining still, her dark eyes never leaving your face. The closeness of your bodies was unnerving, her skin so warm under your touch, and that tight white shirt she wore, showing off her tattoos, only added to the flurry of thoughts rushing through your head.

Why did she have to be so damn beautiful?

Jimin, on the other hand, couldn’t take her eyes off you. The softness in your eyes and the gentleness of your touch, was making her heart race. She wasn’t sure if she'd ever have this chance again.

"Why are you doing this, Jimin?" you asked, your voice coming out a little more strained than you'd planned, your hands trembling as you applied a thin layer of medicine.

Jimin’s brows furrowed in confusion. "Doing what?"

"All this," you said, motioning between the two of you. "Not talking to me, but following me around... giving me gifts..."

Jimin paused, taking a deep breath, before saying, “I wanted to make you remember.”

“Remember what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you finished applying the medicine.

She let out a small breath, trying to steady herself. "Remember us."

She looked down at her hands, then back up at you, her voice growing quieter, more vulnerable. "And... make you remember my love for you."

You froze, your hands retreating from her face as your heart pounded in your chest. You searched her eyes, so open, so full of regret and hope.

And in that moment, you knew you still loved her too.

"Jimin..." You tried to form words, but your throat was tight, the emotions threatening to spill over. “I-“

Before you could finish, Jimin quickly knelt beside the bed, gently cradling your hand in hers and placing it in your lap.

“Please, give me another chance, Y/N,” she begged, the tears she had been holding back finally breaking free.

"These past few months without you have been... miserable. I know I hurt you. I know I lost myself, but I promise, I won’t let this happen again. I love everything about you, your softness, your quirky obsessions... everything. I’m sorry I didn’t reassure you when you were doubting yourself, or protect you from the hate.”

She took a shaky breath, and in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “I don’t think I could ever love anyone as much as I love you.”

Your heart clenched, the weight of her words crashing over you. The pain you had felt for so long, the loneliness that had settled deep in your soul, began to break. You missed her, but you're scared, so scared. Scared of trusting her again, scared of the hurt she could cause, scared of how much power she held over you.

“You hurt me, Jimin. So much,” you said softly, unable to keep the pain from your voice. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

Jimin nodded, her face softening with understanding, though the sadness in her eyes remained. But she wasn’t giving up.

“I know,” she said, her voice steady. “But I will spend the rest of my life earning back your trust.”

And in that moment, with everything on the line, you finally gave in.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Her eyes widened, and that smile, so hopeful, so full of warmth, spread across her angelic face.

“Yes, Jimin. One chance.” You whispered, your heartbeat thudding loudly in your ears.

“Yes!” Jimin punched the air lamely, her eyes sparkling as she grabbed your hand, pulling you up effortlessly.

Before you could even react, she spun you around in a twirl, making you let out a small scream in surprise. The sudden rush of laughter filled the room as you both stumbled and collapsed onto the bed, her arms immediately wrapping around you.

.

.

.

.

The soft thud of Jimin’s heartbeat was lulling you to sleep, a comforting rhythm that calmed your racing thoughts. You gently traced the ink on her forearms, each line and curve filled with her memories. Her steady breathing was a lullaby, peaceful and steady, as you cuddled up to her.

After tending to her injury, you had given her a change of clothes, and let her stay the night. She refused to let go of you, her arms wrapped tightly around you, her lips pressing soft, affectionate kisses to your forehead. It was a strange feeling, like nothing could go wrong in that moment.

For the first time in months, your heart felt whole again, free of the old pain that had lingered too long.

But then, a thought crept into your mind. Gently, you pulled away slightly, your eyes meeting the beautiful dancer’s.

She whined, unhappy at the space between you. You laughed softly, seeing the playful pout on her lips. Outside, she was fierce, confident, and intimidating even, but here, in front of you, she was just a clingy baby.

“I wanted to ask,” you began, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, “Why did you want me to forget about what you said at the bistro? When you told me to forget it?”

A faint pink blush spread across her cheeks, and she shifted uncomfortably, not meeting your eyes.

"It was because..." she trailed off, her voice hesitant, and you gently cupped her chin, forcing  her gaze to meet yours.

“Because of what?”

"Because Minjeong said I could only talk to you once. One sentence. If you reacted badly, I would have to leave your life for good," Jimin admitted, looking away in embarrassment.

"I couldn’t believe I wasted that one sentence on asking if you were real. I was scared Minjeong would beat me up if you got mad."

You stared at her in disbelief. "That was why you refused to speak to me?"

Jimin nodded, her lips twisting into a sheepish smile.

"You’re so fucking stupid, Jimin," you muttered under your breath, shaking your head, though a fond smile tugged at your lips.

"Thank god you’re good at dancing, or else I’d be worried about your future."

"Hey!" she whined, pushing you playfully. "I’m not stupid! It’s just... Minjeong is scary when she’s mad."

Unable to hold back your endearment for this stupid lovable girl, you finally leaned down to press your lips to hers.

Jimin froze, marveling at the feel of your soft lips against hers. She had been dreaming about this moment for so long, and she quickly kissed you back with just as much enthusiasm. The kiss was soft at first, tentative before it deepened following the quickening of your heart beats.

When the air between you became a problem, you both pulled away, gasping for breath, but neither of you made a move to break the closeness. Your foreheads rested together, and for a moment, you just smiled into the space between your lips.

“What did you plan to say then?” You whispered, still breathless from the kiss, “The sentence.”

“Oh, I was going to say: Look at this cool tattoo I got.” She said mischievously, before sitting up and pulling off her shirt, leaving herself in nothing but a bra top.

You blushed immediately, eyes instinctively flicking to the defined muscles of her abs as she twisted to show you the back of her shoulders. For a moment, you couldn’t help but be distracted by the way her muscles flexed before your gaze landed on a small patch of ink on the corner of her right shoulder.

“You got a tattoo of a Charmander?” you sputtered, almost disbelieving.

“Yeah, it’s cute, right?” Jimin grinned, proud of herself.

“It reminded me of you. You have the same eyes as Charmander. And also, it’s your favorite Pokémon, so it’s a win-win.”

“Jimin, my favorite Pokémon is Chikorita…” you sighed, shaking your head in exasperation.

“Chikorita.” She repeated, her lips pursing in thought. “Not Charmander?”

“Not Charmander.”

She thought for a second, then shrugged with a grin. “At least it looks like you.”

Unable to contain yourself any longer, you grabbed the collar of her top and pulled her into another kiss, one that made her remember that you were definitely hers.

got a bit carried away so some scenes kinda dragged out 😬

but hope you all enjoyed this loserish version of jimin!

[cherrybomb107]

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: forgiveness, or the way it’s often presented, is harmful. That’s one more gripe I have with season two. The way it frames “forgiveness”(the idea that you are obligated to forgive someone lest you be “just as bad as they are” is problematic.)

Because for one, having Jinx apologize for killing Caitlyn’s mom and vow to stop the “cycle of violence” doesn’t make any sense. One, that’s just not something Jinx would ever say. Two, the idea that Jinx killing some Councilors is anywhere near the same thing as Caitlyn becoming a dictator is laughable at best, and insulting to my intelligence at worst. Three, Caitlyn never apologizes or faces any meaningful consequences for her actions! Losing an eye was nothing! She should’ve lost a hand at least and we should’ve seen her reflect on her actions and pledge to do better for Zaun!!! Not just fuck off and ride off into the sunset after everything she did! And lastly, the “cycle of violence” literally isn’t a cycle, it’s just one city oppressing the other for centuries and the other city deciding to fight back! This “cycle” doesn’t begin and end with Jinx and her attack on the Council, so framing it like Jinx is the one who has to take sole responsibility for fixing everything is nonsense.

“But Arcane was never about heroes and villains, everything is morally gray!” You sound dumb. This is obviously a story with overt themes of oppression and revolution. I’m not here to critique morality, I’m here to critique its framing. Why are certain characters “justified” in their heinous actions but others don’t get that luxury? That’s what I’m talking about. Moving on, the problem with “forgiveness” implies that it’s necessary, and the way people conflate forgiveness with letting someone have access to you after everything they did is the problem. You don’t have to forgive someone if you don’t want to. That doesn’t make you “bitter” nor does it mean you’re “holding a grudge”. There is a difference between forgiving someone and just removing yourself from the situation and becoming detached, imo. That’s what should’ve been done with Caitlyn and Jinx. No one in Zaun should’ve been shown dying for their oppressors because “teamwork” nor should Sevika have been shoved on the Council to push this idea of “unity”. Why would Sevika, a Zaunite who has never had and never will have any love for Piltover, be forced to cozy up with the Council? Why is the onus on her, as an oppressed person, to make nice with her oppressors? Why does the institution of Piltover, and people like Caitlyn who uphold that institution and wreak havoc on the underclass of Zaun, never have to answer for their crimes?

Answer: Because they(the writers) want to convince us that Jinx and Caitlyn, and by extension, Piltover and Zaun are “just as bad” as each other, and that both sides need to work together to heal. Only problem with that is, the Piltover/Zaun conflict was not presented that way in season one. I’m sure the writers want us to think it’s one city vs another, when that’s not the case at all. In reality, it’s one city OVER the other, and now they’re trying to convince us “both sides are bad”. While it’s true that there ARE problems on both sides, the problems in Zaun literally wouldn’t be problems if Piltover wasn’t an oppressive institution. Why were the chem barons able to amass power? Because the systems Piltover set up left Zaun behind and allowed power hungry people like Finn, Margo, Chross, and Smeech seize their opportunities for control. Why is there so much crime in Zaun? Again, because of Piltover. The class disparity that Piltover set up means the economic divide between the two cities is a chasm that grows wider and wider every day. People are forced to steal to eat. They join gangs out of necessity, not because they have to. Why did Jinx kill all those enforcers?

That shouldn’t be the question. The real question is: Why does “Jinx”(as in, the persona Powder adopted to feel strong) even exist? Answer, once again, because of Piltover! Jinx is an oppressed person with severe mental health and self esteem issues that have been exacerbated as a result of the crooked system of Piltover. She saw her parents get killed by enforcers(militarized police force that carries out the will of the powers that be and is responsible for harassing, brutalizing, and over policing Zaun) right in front of her before she was even in the double digits. She was then adopted by Vander, but she had to struggle her whole life. Zaun doesn’t even have air to BREATHE unless Piltover decides they deserve it. And thanks to Caitlyn, we get to see how even THAT gets weaponized when Zaun steps out of line. So if they don’t have access to clean air, it’s safe to say that they also don’t have access to the same quality food, water, shelter, clothing, economic, educational, or medical services that Piltovans do, just by virtue of living in Zaun. So you take a severely mentally ill little girl, systematically oppress her, and then clutch your pearls when she becomes violent and lashes out? Label her a “psycho” and a “monster” for killing cops, gang members, and politicians while Caitlyn gets a happily ever after after everything she did? I thought “both sides” were “just as bad”. So why is Jinx the only one who meaningfully suffers? Why does Zaun as a whole always have to pay the price?

Lack of commitment. “Terrorist” is a loaded word that’s been weaponized against marginalized people for ages now. It’s another one to add to the list: angry, crazy, mad, belligerent, monster, savage, animal, etc. All these dehumanizing words are leveled at folks who get tired of taking shit lying down. I’ve never thought that Jinx was a “monster” for killing cops, Councilors, or politicians. Never will. But the show clearly WANTS me to, as well as simultaneously wanting to see Caitlyn’s actions a certain way. I’ve already made a post about why comparing or trying to equalize Caitlyn’s actions and Jinx’s actions is disingenuous and intellectually dishonest imo. Think of it like a bully vs bullied type of thing. There’s this kid and his asshole friends who gets to bully you for weeks, months, or even years and face no repercussions. Then, one day you get fed up, and start fighting back. Whether that be with words, feet, fists, or what have you. If you go down, you go down swinging. When the dust settles, BOTH of y’all are getting disciplined(detention, suspended, expelled, not allowed to go on trips, etc) for “fighting”. And there’s a very good chance one of you will be punished much more harshly than the other. Even though you started fighting back. BACK being the operative word. Every single time this kid pushed, hit, kicked, punched, started rumors about, and isolated you, nothing was done. The one time you start fighting BACK, both of y’all get in trouble because the school has a “zero tolerance policy”.

But you know that’s not true. It can’t be. You’ve been telling the teachers, guidance counselors, and vice principal about what’s been going on. But nothing was done about it. Or if it was, you were the one who was told to move seats. Or switch to a different classroom. Or just ignore them. Or “maybe they’re lashing out cause they have problems going on at home.” It was nothing but excuses when you were getting pushed around. Now when you fight back it’s a problem. Now take that metaphor and apply it to Caitlyn and Jinx. Caitlyn is like that fat rich asshole with parents on the PTA who make hefty donations to the school. Jinx is like the scrawny little nobody who has no one to stick up for them. Piltover is the school system. Caitlyn’s privilege isolated her from any meaningful consequences, while Jinx’s lack of privilege guaranteed she’d face hefty consequences, much more than Caitlyn ever would.

Jinx has lost: her birth parents as a result of state sanctioned violence, her adoptive brothers, her sister, her best friend, her adoptive father, Silco, her sister again, her adoptive father again, her new friend, her sense of self, her life(possibly) and she has to deal with being an oppressed person who struggles with mental health issues on top of all that. Caitlyn has lost: her mother, and her eye. That’s it. She’s never forced to give anything up. She never had to reckon with the reality of what it means to be not just a Piltie, but a Kiramman, and a dictator on top of that. We never see her be genuinely remorseful about her horrible actions in Zaun. Nor does she try to apologize to the people in Zaun or meaningfully make amends. No, Caitlyn gets to live in that big shiny house of hers with her father and girlfriend and the months she spent co-signing martial law will never be addressed. To bring it back to the bully vs bullied comparison, this means that Jinx would have been expelled for fighting back, while Caitlyn gets ISS(in school suspension). “Both sides are bad” yeah well you clearly believe one side is worse! And it’s not the correct one!

Piltover is an oppressive, classist, ableist, and brutal institution. Caitlyn was the head of this institution for months after she experienced a fraction of what Zaunites have experienced for centuries. At the end of the day, Caitlyn’s actions were brushed aside and she got her happy ending, though it wasn’t deserved whatsoever. Meanwhile Jinx, Sevika, Ekko, Isha, countless other Zaunites, and Zaun as a whole did nothing but suffer their whole lives and now they have nothing to show for it. “Both sides are bad” but the bad that the institution is responsible for is never called out, while the bad that the oppressed people did is blown out of proportion and they are severely punished for it.

And yes, I know I’m talking about a mainstream television show with white/non black people in the writers room. I knew I was never gonna get the pro revolution story I wanted to see, and I’ve made peace with that. But, if they wanted to have a “both sides” narrative so bad, then they should’ve stuck with it. BOTH SIDES should have equally suffered and had to reckon with their wrongdoings. The responsibility for doing so shouldn’t have solely been on the shoulders of the minority group. THAT’S the crux of the issue. I was always gonna think “forgiveness” was the coward’s way out. But they never show Piltover apologizing. Only Zaun does, and that’s not right.

[illyrianbitch]

Plank You Very Much

Pairing: Reader x Cassian

Summary: Cassian gets roped into a Pilates class by you—and quickly realizes he’s in way over his head.

original request

Warnings: nothing tbh, cocky cassian being humbled, his fun lil internal thoughts

Word Count: 1.4k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

This was a horrible, stupid decision, Cassian realized. 

He’d probably tell his kids about this someday, label it as one of his top twenty worst moments—and for the Lord of Bloodshed, that meant something.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been coaxed into something ridiculous. He wasn’t proud of that. But usually, those bad ideas involved Cassian yelling “I’m in.” before anyone could talk him out of it, not… this. Not kneeling on a yoga mat in a room that smelled like lavender and sweat, surrounded by people half his size who apparently had spines made of liquid steel. 

The incense burning clung to the air, all flowery and relentless, tickling his nose in a way that made his nostrils flare with the urge to sneeze—an urge that hovered just out of reach, enough to drive him mad. Gods, he thought his allergies were bad in the Spring Court. This was worse. At least in the Spring Court, he wasn’t expected to twist himself into a pretzel while being assaulted by fragrant warfare.

He didn’t know what had possessed him to agree to this. 

Well, okay, he did know. It was you. 

With that damn mischievous smile and the way you’d batted your lashes at him, like you knew he wouldn’t say no. You’d done it on purpose.

“Oh yeah?”

Your voice had been as sweet as poison after he’d made a very ill-advised joke about Pilates not being “that serious.” All because you’d complained—just once—about being sore from a class. He’d grinned, all cocky charm, and drawled something like, “How hard can it be?”

He’d meant it as flirting, a way to make you laugh, but he should’ve known better. You and that damn spiteful streak.

“Come with me, then,” you’d said, tilting your head in that way you always did when you were trying to be convincing. “Unless, of course, you think it’s too hard for you, big guy.”

You might as well have stabbed him in his pride.

“We both know that’s not true.” Cassian had shot back, grinning like the cocky idiot he was. He’d even flexed a little as he’d said it, lounging against the counter with all the confidence in the world. “Bet I could do it no problem.” 

Because Pilates? It didn’t even sound hard. A bunch of stretching, maybe some light balancing. Easyyy. He could do this in his sleep. He’d been fighting in wars since before most of these people were born, for Cauldron’s sake. His muscles were made of steel. His body was a weapon. 

You’d grinned at him like a predator scenting blood, and he’d known, deep down, that he was screwed. “Alright,” you’d said, voice a little too sweet. “Tomorrow morning.”

He really needed you to spend less time with Mor and Azriel. Their sass and competitive streak had clearly rubbed off on you, and the result was downright dangerous. It was also, much to his frustration, ridiculously attractive. He fell for it every single time.

And now, every muscle in his body was actively trying to kill him. He was sure of it.

To make matters worse, he’d made yet another critical error at the start of class. Everyone else had grabbed the pastel three-pound weights that looked more like props than actual workout equipment. But Cassian had gone straight for the twenty-pound dumbbells.

“Really?” you’d said, your tone half amused, half incredulous.

“Three pounds are basically paperweights,” he’d replied, doing a quick curl with one arm to prove his point. The weights had felt fine then.

That didn't last long.

You'd even given him a knowing smile, one that probably should’ve warned him. But Cassian, in all his infinite wisdom and bravado, didn’t back down.

Halfway through the warm-up, his arms were trembling. Trembling. The weights that had felt so manageable had dragged his shoulders into a slow, humiliating burn.

Now, those same arms quivered as he attempted to hold the plank position for what felt like the fiftieth time in as many minutes. His shoulders burned, his thighs screamed, and sweat poured down his face in rivers. His hair was plastered to his forehead in a way that was more disgusting than it was ruggedly sexy. The surrounding mirrors of the room confirmed so.

“Engage your core!” the instructor chirped, her voice far too cheerful for someone overseeing torture. She walked by him like a predator looking for weaknesses, sparing him a sympathetic yet clearly entertained glance. She didn’t bother helping him. 

He wasn’t sure where his core even was anymore. It might have abandoned him somewhere around the second round of something called “boat pose,” which had made his abs cramp in places he didn’t even know existed. He fucking hated boats. 

“Hold that plank,” the instructor trilled. “Focus on your breath.”

Focus on his breath? Cassian was focused on not dying.

He grunted and grit his teeth. This was so stupid, he thought to himself. He was the General Commander of the Night Court. He led armies. He was built like a god.

So why the hell was he shaking like a newborn fawn?

Maybe this was some kind of humiliation ritual, a weird form of foreplay you enjoyed—watching your partners get broken down by this absurd torture you somehow found fun. Cassian had always suspected you were the freaky type. This could definitely be a sex thing, right?

“Doing okay over there?” Your voice drifted over from your mat, smug and far too amused. Cassian glanced at you—and immediately regretted it.

You were perfect. Every movement you made was controlled and precise, your form flawless as you transitioned into a side plank. Your leggings clung to every inch of your legs, your sports bra showing off the delicate curve of your back, and—Mother above, was that a bead of sweat sliding down your collarbone?

Cassian’s train of thought derailed so hard it might as well have exploded.

Which was exactly when his arm gave out.

He hit the mat with a loud, undignified thud, sprawled on his stomach like a dead fish. A chorus of muffled laughter erupted from the group of fae behind him, and he groaned into the mat. He couldn’t even bring himself to glare at them.

“Oh no,” you teased, resting on your side like you were lounging on a beach, not halfway through what had to be some kind of medieval punishment. “Looks like you fell.”

“This was a trap,” he mumbled, voice muffled. “Your revenge for something.”

You laughed, and Cassian couldn’t decide if he loved or hated the sound at the current moment. A mix of both, perhaps.

Who was he kidding? He wanted to bathe in it. The only thing more pathetic than his lack of Pilates skills was his infuriating crush on you.

“You walked right into it. I didn’t even have to try that hard.”

He lifted his head to glare at you, his face flushed from both exertion and embarrassment. “You’re evil.”

“And you’re cocky,” you shot back, grinning. “I figured this was the only way to get you to tone it down.”

Cassian flopped onto his back, chest heaving, and stared at the ceiling. His wings spread out beneath him, sticking awkwardly to the mat, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. “You’re lucky I like you,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

“Oh, I know.”

You stood up then, brushing off your leggings, and offered him a hand. He hesitated, narrowing his eyes, but finally took it. Big mistake.

You tugged him halfway up—just enough for him to feel a spark of hope—before letting go. He dropped back to the mat with another thud, the air leaving his lungs in a loud huff.

You were laughing again, and despite himself, Cassian felt the corners of his mouth twitch. “Okay,” he said, sitting up on his own this time. “You’ve had your fun.”

“Not yet.” You smirked. “We still have the second half of class.”

The second half. Cassian groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’ll never live this down.”

You crouched beside him, tilting your head. “Oh, don’t worry,” you said sweetly. “I’ll be gentle when I remind you of it. Probably.”

Cassian laughed, then, even as his entire body ached. “You’re the worst,” he said. But his voice was full of something softer than annoyance.

“And you’re stubborn,” you shot back, nudging him with your elbow. “It’s why I like you.”

For a moment, he forgot all about the embarrassment, the pain, and the endless torture of Pilates. For a moment, all he could see was you, smiling at him like he was the only person in the world.

And Cassian thought, then, that he’d endure this kind of hell a thousand times over if it meant another moment like this.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

authors note: im back baby!!! how is everyone doing? so so good i hope <3

pls send the best vibes and energy my way, i have sooo many wips i wanna jump into!! lemme know if theres anything specific y'all would like to see from me :)

[slytherinboysvip]

soooo like idk if u write angst. But from ur page i feel like u would be good at it. Maybe like a theo x slytherin!reader who like gets bullied by them and it’s kinda unrequited love and one day she gets entirely done with them and doesn’t leave her room for a while because something happened. Then classic theodore nott goes for a smoke seeing her alone in the courtyard or something and feels a little bad and they talk and he realizes how much of a dick him and his friends are because reader “is so done with all the shit” and plans to try and leave

bully theo nott x slytherin reader

angst

not exactly sure what to title this one but i hope it’s enjoyable, i don’t do angst much but it’s so much funnn

𓆙

while going to hogwarts seemed to have been most young wizards escape, you unfortunately didn’t have the luxury of seeing it that way. ever since you’ve started at hogwarts and were sorted into slytherin you haven’t had such an easy time. granted now that you’re a 6th year you have a few friends, however one thing stayed the same since you’ve started; you were constantly bullied by the most popular of the slytherins.

you genuinely didn’t understand what made them dislike you so much, you didn’t agree with their pureblood praises though you were a pureblood yourself. maybe it could’ve been the fact that you weren’t necessarily the richest, coming from a lower class wizarding bloodline nobody knew of your family and simply getting the money together for your school supplies was often a challenge.

you tried everything you could to drown out any bullying, trying your best not to let any of it effect you or your studies. unfortunately due to you also being a slytherin not even your common room was an escape for you.

walking out your dorm as quietly as possible you held a book tight to your chest tiptoeing down the stairs making your way to a secluded chair, you sat down in front of the low fire and read to yourself silently for a few minutes before hearing laughter echoing from down the hall muffled voices becoming clearer and clearer.

trying to ignore the voices you regrettably recognized you kept your head down and in your book, not even reading the words simply trying to keep your breath at an even pace. “mate is that y/n” said a muffled voice. not looking up you closed your eyes tightly really hoping to be left alone. you had hoped coming down at one in the morning would give your freedom, not anxiety.

before you could process it there were footsteps heading towards you and a flick on your forehead “are you that dumb that you can’t even read a book, i mean don’t know your eyes have to be open for that” mattheo laughed at his own joke elbowing theo who was egging him on chuckling himself. “don’t touch me.” you gritted through your teeth still sitting looking at both of the mocking boys.

you attempted to get up and rush off to your dorm but mattheo grabbed your arm “you didn’t answer my question, that’s soo rude” he mocked still gripping your left wrist. “let me go” you protested struggling to get your arm free as theodore watched snickering. “alright let her go i’m trying to smoke” theo huffed snatching the back of mattheos jacket and dragging him along.

a large breath you had no idea you were holding onto fell out of your mouth the second they were gone. you plopped right back down into the cold leather chair and silently sobbed. so many thoughts ran through your head about how differently you should’ve handled the situation, how you should’ve shoved him harder, maybe you should’ve screamed, maybe if you just knew how to stand up for yourself. maybe you were stupid?

everything these boys did effected you so much to the point you became a shell of the person you were. your grades weren’t the worst, but the more the boys would mock, the more they’d tell you how dumb you were that you were a lost cause, you unfortunately began to believe it even if you didn’t admit it to them directly. never giving them the satisfaction of seeing you break down, never letting them know how it effects you.

“i think you might need a jumpscare warning, next time don’t come to class if you wake up like that” draco mocked giving you a disgusted look the second you sat down on the end of the slytherin table. a small eruption of laughter fell from all of the boys and their little follower pansy parkinson. “you guys have no clue i swear this morning her eyes were so swollen she looked like she got stung by a bee” she snickered trying to gain the boys attention.

not wanting to deal with this today you got up and walked out of the great hall not looking back. you didn’t feel like you had the mental capacity to deal with them and so you made your way to the only place you knew you could breathe.

you made sure to watch out for any oncoming professors and for filtch, knowing you’re not supposed to be out on the astronomy tower at this time of day or year. the walk was as long as ever and luckily most of the halls were empty besides a few students making their way to the great hall.

finally reaching the million stairs you made your way up to the tower slowly walking up taking your time. you began to think about everything these people put you through, thinking about how much everything they do makes you hate yourself and this school more and more everyday.

not a day went by that you weren’t picked on at least once by one of them, this realization and sad reality made a stream of tears fall down your face as your legs walked up the stairs starring down onto the wooden steps.

just as you were beginning to reach the top of the steps you quietly sniffed smelling an odd odor. you couldn’t quite put your finger on what you were smelling but you continued till you were at the ledge of the astronomy tower sitting down. you sat looking out towards the clouds covering the sun and tried to control your breathing and stream of tears.

once your tears began to dry up you noticed a thick trail of smoke coming from the right of you. you looked behind you and there stood theodore nott. he walked over cautiously, and here you were coming face to face with someone you definitely did not want to see. “ah, y/n what brings you here” he spoke taking a drag of what appeared to be a cigarette. you didn’t know wether to answer or just leave but you spoke out cautiously “attempting to get away from you and your goons” you huffed turning back around to face the clouds.

“come on, you know i don’t bite” he chuckled and you just shook your head in annoyance looking back up at him, “you don’t bite yet you’ve bullied me for over six years makes perfect sense theodore” you rolled your eyes standing up to face him. “seriously.-“ he scoffed “you know i’m like the least brutal of them i don’t even touch you” he added taking another drag. it was almost as if he was mocking you even more without even realizing it.

“i don’t care if you think that just because you don’t fucking touch me that it makes it okay?? you watch your friends bully, touch, and harass me nearly everyday what about that makes you any less of an awful person than them.” you let it all out with more emotion that intended yet the small tears coming out were nothing but anger induced.

“listen y/n i didn’t think it affected you that bad we make fun of so many people” he shrugged scratching the back of his head not sure how to react to your outburst of emotions. “that’s your problem, you don’t ever realize that you’re bullying your own housemate. you and those fuckers haven’t left me alone since year one and for what? all because i stood up to a fucking bleach blonde bitch? like seriously you take orders from a daddy’s boy and a guy who’s practically an orphan.” your voice was getting louder and louder, soon enough you were face to face with him just yelling.

“look y/n im sorry okay i swear, i don’t like doing it alright why do you think i never touch you i try to get these fucking assholes to leave you alone you’re just an easy target to them” he tried pleading with you but you weren’t having any of it. “what makes you think i’ll believe you?” you scoffed “you’re trying to excuse yourself all because i stood up for myself?? and what exactly do you do to get them to leave me alone because that obviously isn’t working” your tears dried back up and now just pure anger was holding you together.

“you see when i tell them just to come on, and most times they just say something to you and don’t even touch you.” he was searching your face but your expression stayed the same “have you ever heard of telling them to just stop? and what about me seems like an easy fucking target” you didn’t know what to even ask of him anymore not even understanding yourself why you were still standing here.

“y/n come on.” he looked at you but you didn’t budge just awaiting his response. “you said it yourself you stood up to malfoy, he didn’t like that so it started it. listen overtime it got more than that i guess matt went at you cause your grades are- were better than his . and well pansy goes after you because you’re hotter than her, blaise just goes along, and enzo does whatever enzo does.” he shrugged attempting to explain this twisted reasoning.

“well why do you go after me? because all of this shit seems so unserious for all of you to make me want to leave hogwarts and even this world all together.” you scoffed still heated at these other absurd reasons. he looked at you for a moment contemplating before he sighed “look i really am sorry i didn’t know it was that bad” he pleaded ignoring your question.

“i don’t care if you’re sorry or not that doesn’t take back all of these years theodore. and besides you don’t even have the fucking balls to tell me why you bully me so obviously you don’t feel sorry” you began walking away from him and he reached out grabbing your arm “y/n i just told you so many times i tried getting them to stop, look i don’t know why and i don’t expect you to feel the same but i just over the years ive wanted you more and more and look i just knew i couldn’t ever have you.” he loooked away yet still held onto your arm.

you stood there almost in shock. here you were complaining about everything your bullies put you through to one of those said bullies, and he confessed his crush on you. you didn’t respond just staring at him. “what.” you managed to let out. “i know it’s insane.” he sighed “look i don’t expect you to forgive me but i’ll try and get them to back off.” he spoke up letting go of your arm and walking off.

you didn’t follow or speak up to him, just allowing him to make his way back wherever he came from. sitting back down at the railing you took a deep breath trying to piece together what exactly just happened.

i’m not sure if this is good enough to match what was asked but i hope so😭

[teapartyprincess4two]

Weakness- M. Sturniolo

pairing: fem!reader x FWB!Matt

classification: slight angst, smut

inspiration: submission for @annamcdonalds67 ‘s writer’s challenge, American Jesus by Nessa Barrett

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, slight cursing, no use of Y/n, mention of smoking

summary: You fight your inner desires, but ultimately let your weakness consume you.

—

You pull your skirt up quickly, jumping to get the fabric past your thighs. Matt watches from his bed, his body slumped against the headboard as he lazily pulls a cigarette to his lips. His lips form a smirk as you fumble to get yourself together, his eyes trained on the way your ass jiggles against the fabric of your pleated uniform. Even though you two clearly just finished, an erection grows in his boxers at the mere sight in front of him. His hands flick a lighter over the cigarette, inhaling once it’s lit.

Everything about what you just did —what you've been doing— with Matt is wrong. He’s your best friend's brother; the second you admitted that you had a crush on him you should’ve distanced yourself. Instead, you let yourself cross an unforgivable boundary with him time and time again.

There are so many reasons why this relationship is wrong. First, you’re the cheer captain who’s never been caught with so much as a wrinkle on your uniform. Second, you’re at the top of your class and have never brought home a grade lower than an A. Third, you’re popular and if anyone were to find you with a bad boy like Matt, even if it was just your best friend Nick, your perfect reputation would surely be tainted forever.

“See you next week, sweetheart,” he murmurs, each word being followed by a puff of smoke. He catches your attention through the mirror, throwing a playful wink your way that has you rolling your eyes.

“No, you will not see me next week. This was the last time, Matt,” you retorted, trying to sound confident, but even you struggle to believe your own words. You tug your shirt over your head, fluffing your hair over your shoulders as you examine yourself in the mirror. The school’s logo stairs back at you, reminding you of the reality of your situation, of everything that was at stake.

He’s got lips like cherry wine and cigarette smoke on his breath. He’s got pretty long brown hair, blue eyes that look like sex.

You’re a mess.

Your lipstick is painted across your cheek, your hair remains tangled no matter how many times you run your fingers through it, mascara forms dark circles under your eyes, and hickeys litter every inch of your neck.

Not that he looks any better. His lips are equally as stained as yours and his long, brown hair falls past his eyes.

“You said that last week,” he smirks, the sultry undertone in his voice causing your knees to buckle. He knows that he has you, but he wants you to pledge your allegiance to him one last time before you go.

“I mean it this time,” you say, but your voice trembles; a clear sign of your resolve breaking, and this was no time to give in. There was still time for you to walk out with even a little bit of your dignity. All you had to do was walk out, get in your car, and leave. But some things are easier said than done.

Instead, you go on a nervous ramble. “You probably don’t care, but if anyone were to find out about this– If Nick were to find out about this, I’d be the worst friend ever. And I have so many cheer scholarships lined up too, Matt. I can’t let my grades slip, if I get anything below an A they could take those away. Do you know what my parents would do to me if I lost those scholarships? What they’d do to me if it was all over a boy?” your words are coming out a mile a minute, each insecurity and doubt going in one of Matt’s ears and coming out the other.

“Do you even care?”

It’s not that he didn’t care, he just preferred it when your mouth was occupied with other things instead. Matt takes a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in your direction. It curls around your figure, lassoing you towards him slowly. He wasn’t good with words, so he’s glad that your body gravitates towards him like second nature.

“This is the last time….” your voice trails off as you fall into Matt’s trance.

Before you know it, you’re crawling over to him and your body has managed to fit perfectly against his. Eager hands fall onto his chest, earning a satisfied hum from him because he knows he won.

Matt takes one last drag of the cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs as he dabs the bud onto the ashtray that sits on his nightstand. His hands instinctively pull your face in by the back of your neck, latching his lips onto yours and allowing the smoke to dissolve into the kiss. You used to hate the smell of cigarettes, but now even the taste is addicting.

“If you want me to stop, just say the word,” Matt instructs, his piercing blue eyes clouded with lust as he watches you intently. Your mind is telling you to stop, to grab your things and leave before anyone can notice you, but the aching feeling that grows under your skirt keeps you planted.

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckles, watching you internally battle with yourself. The comment makes you feel weak and small, but you’re chasing a euphoric feeling that helps you see past that.

Matt’s lips trail down your jawline, finding the sensitive spots on your neck that are already lined with bruises and bite marks. He sucks on a spot that always makes you whimper, simultaneously bunching your skirt up against your waist.

He delivers a swift slap to your ass cheek, painting your skin a bright shade of red. “Matt,” your voice is strained against the kiss, but he knows exactly what you want. Your hands travel from his chest down to his boxers, teasing fingers tracing the outline of his erection. He kisses his teeth at the sensation, pulling away from your neck briefly to watch your perfectly manicured hand cup his clothed penis.

It would be easy for Matt to submit to you, but where was the fun in that?

Knees down at your altar. Please don’t fail me now.

“On your knees, Princess.”

It’s a command that you’re used to, one that you follow without complaint. You wiggle into the carpet, your knees accustomed to the rough feeling that meets them. “Beautiful,” he hums. His body towers over yours, ready to watch you worship and praise the entirety of his shaft.

You look up at him through hooded eyes, asking for permission to proceed. He grants it to you with a lick of his lips, his fingers caressing your face as you pull his boxers down.

Matt’s penis springs out of its constraints. “You know how I like it,” he comments, watching you take his shaft into your hands. You pump it slowly, taking your time with it and making sure to properly service him.

You place a neat kiss on the tip, letting your lips travel down towards the base. From there you lick a stripe back towards the top that has Matt hissing because you wrap your lips around it, almost like you were drawing an exclamation mark on it.

Your tongue swirls around the tip teasingly, lips still hugging around him. Matt’s eyes stare down at you, eager for your every move.

A careful hand pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pushing your head down slowly on the rest of his length. You gag when the tip hits the back of your throat, your hands moving from his member to his waist. That doesn’t stop him though, instead he bucks into you one more time just to hear you choke around his cock.

You got me red, white, and blue. Pledging my allegiance to you.

“You like that, don’t you?” His question is met with your bloodshot, tear brimmed eyes and a chin dribbling with saliva. Your blue hickeys and red eyes were about to pair perfectly with the white strings of cum he was going to paint your face with.

Ooh, seeing stars in your eyes. No, I’ve never felt so alive.

Matt’s fucking your face at a feverish pace, grunting every time your cheeks hollow around him or his dick presses against the back of your throat. He’s so unbelievably close that he has to shut his eyes because the way your saliva coats his penis and bubbles at your mouth has him seeing stars.

Momentarily, he pulls out of your mouth, giving you enough time to catch your breath before he’s tapping the tip on your lips. “Open,” he grits, shoving himself back into your dazed face. Three more pumps and the submissive sight in front of him is all it takes to push him over the edge.

Spurts of cum land on your tongue, some of it managing to hit your cheek. He collects it on the thumb that brushes your cheek, popping it in your mouth and groaning at how eagerly you lick it clean.

Won’t you take me to heaven tonight?

“Now let me make you feel good, yeah? To remind you how much you mean to me,” Matt whispers, pulling you up and guiding you to the edge of the bed. Now it’s his turn to kneel in front of you, his lips latching onto the skin of your ankles and slowly kissing their way up to your inner thighs.

He nips and sucks on your skin until he’s face to face with your crotch, your arousal evident through your soaked panties. Matt places a gentle kiss on your clothed bundle of nerves, relishing in the satisfied shudder than runs through your spine.

Strong arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed and forcing you to lay back against the mattress. “Ready?” he asks, but he knows the answer, it’s literally glistening in front of him.

“Yes, fuck yes,” you respond. Weren’t you just claiming to be done with him? And now he has you exasperated at his touch.

Matt uses his teeth to pull your panties down, letting them fall onto the floor before returning his attention to your throbbing core.

He starts off slow, licking your clit just to get a taste of you. Your squirming informs him that this isn’t enough, so he uses his fingers to part your folds. His tongue is flat against you, applying pressure where you need it most.

His right hand presses one leg against the bed while the left clasps under your knees to push your leg in the air, providing him with the perfect position to ravish you. He begins sucking on your nub, burying his face in your juices.

You know all my secrets.

Your hands find his hair, whimpering as you tug at the strands. You’re squirming under him, attempting to pull away at the overstimulation, but his grip on you is so firm that you can’t move.

His left arm slithers from under your knee to over your thigh, wrapping around you tightly enough to tug you even further past the edge of the bed. At this point, your ass is in the air as you chase his face, grinding against him for even more friction.

“Matt— fuck! I’m so close,” you exclaim, propping yourself up on one of your elbows to watch him work. His hair fell past his eyes and his arms were securely wrapped around you; he looked so beautiful.

Your pussy flutters around him, signifying your pending release. So, as to push you closer towards your climax, his right hand leaves your thigh to plunge two long fingers inside of you. The euphoric sensation causes you to throw your head back in pleasure, your elbows giving out until your entire body falls back onto the mattress.

“C’mon baby,” he murmurs, “cum for me.”

That’s all it takes for you to come undone, your body trembling as your orgasm completely washes over you. Matt watches in awe as your jaw falls slack, small moans rolling off your tongue and floating towards him like a melodic tune.

You’re still catching your breath when Matt places one last kiss on your pussy, crawling over you to capture your lips in a kiss.

“How about we make the last time count?” he taunts, dragging the tip of his cock against your still sensitive folds.

You know you’re my weakness.

You nod your head feverishly, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you. You’re desperate for his touch, your walls crashing down like an addict overcome with their weakness.

That doesn’t seem to satisfy him. “Words. I need to hear you say it,” he grunts, becoming desperate himself.

Tell me you believe in me too. I do.

“I need you, Matt. I’ll always need you,” there’s a pathetic desperation in your voice that makes his dick twitch, and it’s all he needs to hear before he’s plunging deep inside of you.

He sets a steady pace, rocking his body back and forth against yours like it’s the first and last time. His pelvis brushes against your clit with each stroke, causing your hips to lift off the mattress and meet him midway.

Matt pushes your hips back down, knowing that if you keep that up he won’t last. “Patience, baby. Patience.”

He’s got a cross around his neck.

You can’t be patient though, he’s already so deep inside of you and he still doesn’t feel close enough. Your fingers loop around the cross necklace that dangles from his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you. Your lips find his in a hungry frenzy, both your mouths moulding into a needy kiss.

Moans and whimpers are exchanged, along with the breathy sound that follows when you look down to see where you two are joined. His cock is covered in your slick, your walls hugging him perfectly with each stroke.

Your hand moves from the necklace to the nape of his neck, caressing and massaging the skin there as he continues to thrust deep inside of you. His necklace sways back and forth, serving as a reminder of how sinful this is. Yet, you never want it to stop.

Matt can tell you’re becoming pensive, so he pushes your hips into the mattress, providing him with a new angle that allows his tip to kiss your cervix. “Matt!” you gasp, the new, delicious angle setting you closer towards the edge.

His animalistic grunts fill the room, he loves when you say his name. “Say it again,” he commands, pulling out of you completely only to snap his hips back in at an ungodly rate.

“Matt!” you exclaim, chanting his name like a prayer.

You’re the greatest love of my life.

“That’s it baby, let go for me,” his words help you reach your climax, your pussy fluttering around him as you come undone. He follows suit shortly after, his head falling into the space where your neck meets your shoulder.

He groans as he releases inside of you, hot breath fanning against your neck. His hips rolls lazily against you, and for a second he lets himself be taken by the immense pleasure that washes over him.

“Fuck, I love you,” he moans, placing sloppy kisses all over your body. He doesn’t realize that he said until he feels your body stiffen beneath him, and honestly he’s not sure what possessed him to admit it out loud.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” he stutters, pulling out of you completely. He’s quick to find his boxers and throw them on, leaving you dazed on the bed.

“See you next week?” you ask, a hopeful tone in your voice. Quickly you find your panties on the floor and adjust your skirt. He coughs awkwardly, mostly because he doesn’t know where to go from here.

“This was the last time,” he replies, quoting your words from earlier, but there’s something almost venomous in the way he says it. The sentence breaks your heart and you’re almost tempted to get down on your knees again so he’ll take it back. But you don’t, instead you gather your things and take a fleeting look at yourself in the mirror.

“That’s what you wanted, right? Wouldn’t want your best friend to find out about us anyways.”

You nod your head slowly, a tight lipped smile forming on your face. “Right.”

You were red, white and blue and he never gave you the chance to admit that you loved him too.

—

a/n: 🇺🇸😵 so excited to read everyone’s stories for this challenge!! - L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

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MASTERLIST

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[houseofceline]

My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Stupid Potions Exam

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: None (yet ;))

Summary: Theo's not the one to tutor anyone but maybe he'll make an exception for a certain pretty girl?

&lt; 3

__________________

“Damn mate you starving?” Mattheo teased as Theo scarfed down a muffin that Lorenzo found in his backpack. 

Theo rolled his eyes as he finished chewing, “Hannah wouldn’t fucking leave my room this morning and made me miss breakfast.” 

“You still seeing her?” Lorenzo questioned with his eyebrows raised. 

“Seeing her is a bit of a stretch,” Theo replied, wanting to throw up at the mention of the girl. Sure she was a good fuck and all but he never understood why she had to throw a fit every morning after. It wasn’t the first time he threw her out in the morning, matter of fact it was everytime they slept together and yet the Slytherin girl still wanted to make a scene. 

“Should’ve seen the look on Malfoy’s face when she cried and looked towards him for help,” Theo laughed, recalling the frightened yet disgusted expression his roommate made at her cries. 

“You’re a gentleman for sure,” Mattheo spoke sarcastically as Theo chuckled at the statement. 

“Yeah definitely,” Theo replied back in the same tone. 

“Mate I’m definitely flunking tomorrow’s potions exam,” Lorenzo sighed as the trio approached the library. 

Theo knew that studying with these two idiots nothing would actually be done, but what else was there to do on a Thursday night? 

“Speak for yourself I’m ready to pass,” Mattheo boasted knowing that they had about the same grade in the class. 

The three Slytherins looked for a place to sit. 

The library was packed, it seemed like everyone in the damn castle was here preparing for some sort of exam tomorrow. 

“Found a spot,” Mattheo spoke up as Theo and Lorenzo followed behind him. 

“Mind if we sit here princess?” Mattheo asked as Theo moved beside him to see who he was talking to. 

Pretty girl from potions. What the fuck was he doing calling her princess?

“Princess? You two dating or something?” Theo teased even though this was the last thing he ever wanted to picture in his head. 

You looked away blushing while shaking your head. 

This was one of the worst ways you could’ve responded to his answer in his opinion. Theo wanted to drown Riddle first and then himself at the thought of you blushing over him. 

You didn’t think much of it. You knew that there were no actual romantic feelings between the two of you. You didn’t have any friends in history of magic and after meeting the two Slytherins they became your only friends in that class. 

Despite not giving Mattheo an actual answer to the question the three boys took seats at your table. 

Theo was quick to take a seat in front of you while Mattheo settled down beside you. 

“Oh we’re all studying for potions?” Lorenzo took a peak at your books. 

You sighed before pouting and nodding. 

“It’s the worst subject to ever exist.” 

Lorenzo nodded in agreement while Theo gasped. 

“Worst? It’s one of the easiest subjects,” Theo scoffed while you and Lorenzo gaped at him. 

“Tutor us then Nott,” Mattheo rolled his eyes as he took out his books as well. 

“No, go ask Malfoy.” 

You giggled at their interaction. 

If your laugh was the first thing you hear when you get to heaven Theo decided he was going to start being a better person. 

“No, Malfoy calls us stupid fucks everytime we get an answer wrong,” Lorenzo pretend to cry while the table next to us shushed him very loudly. 

“Damn okay.” 

“Open your damn book mate, you're the one that’s most likely to fail,” Mattheo said as he started to take notes. 

“Actually that might be me,” you mumbled quietly as you tried focusing on the same paragraph for the thousandth time. You had read it over and over again but it felt as if it was impossible to retain the actual information. 

“You good?” Theo whispered as he watched you stare blanking at the textbook. 

He was doing charms homework. He didn’t think he needed to study for potions as he felt comfortable in his naturally gifted abilities. It was like relying on common sense for him. 

You nodded hesitantly. Truth be told, you were so far from good. 

You were positive that you were not going to pass the exam tomorrow. Your Ravenclaw was not Ravenclawing. 

You couldn’t afford to get another bad mark since the exam would pretty much break or make your passing grade. 

Another lecture about grades from your parents was the last thing you needed when you were still trying to earn their support for your chosen career. 

Theo could tell you didn’t mean it. 

He looked over to Mattheo and pleaded for him to leave. 

He smirked before kicking Lorenzo’s leg motioning towards the two of you and then the doors. 

Thank merlin he got the hint and began packing his things up. 

“I’m feeling pretty tired, I need a nap break,” Lorenzo let out an award winning fake yawn as Mattheo nodded in agreement. 

“We’ll see you guys later,” Mattheo waved before nodding to Theo for good luck. 

Theo definitely owes them one. 

“Here I’ll help you,” Theo offered as he got up and took Mattheo’s seat. 

He scooted your chair closer and placed his arm around the back of your chair. 

You started to feel your face heat up at his close proximity and hoped he didn’t notice. 

He shifted the textbook towards the middle of you two before grabbing parchment and a quill from his backpack. 

“Here take some notes,” he handed them to you as you nodded obediently. 

“Wound-cleaning potion,” Theo began to read out loud to you as you started writing.

“Characteristics are as follows: purple, smoke and stung upon contact.” He listed and waited for you to finish writing before continuing. 

You mentally thanked him for putting everything into simpler terms for notes as you wrote down everything he said. 

Reading through the textbook it was hard to understand what the potion exactly was because it had so many words. 

He continued to read and stop every time he wanted you to write something down. 

In between your writings you couldn’t help but admire his face as his attention was fixated on the book. The dim lighting in the library made his jawline and face features stand out and appear sharper than normal. He looked so pretty. 

“Stir counterclockwise for five minutes,” Theo finished as he turned his head catching you looking at him. 

You immediately looked away and tried to hide your rosy cheeks as you wrote down what he had said. 

It didn’t go unnoticed by Theo as he chuckled seeing your shy state before turning his attention back to the book. 

Maybe another time he would tease you for getting so nervous around him, but tonight his goal was to make sure you passed the exam tomorrow. 

[ur-local-anti-hero]

Speak now

James Potter x Malfoy!Reader

Summary: If the marauders are against something, its agaisnt pureblood families ideologies. Sometimes that implies to wreak havoc on a white veil occasion.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Fluff and a tiny bit of Angst. Arranged Marriage

CW: Forced Marriage, Familiar problems, talks about blood purity and blood traitors. Breaking into a weddig idk.

Word count: 2.2K

This is part of my Speak Now (Marauders’ version) collection 

“So don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door.

Don't wait, or say a single vow. You need to hear me out”

When you were younger you saw a fair amount of weddings. They were always presented to you as big emotional events in which two people promised eternal love to each other. 

Even when you didn't know anything about love as a kid, it was no wonder that you yearned to have your own wedding once you grew up. It was a dream to have your own white dress, a beautifully decorated venue and a partner you loved so deeply you’d be willing to spend your whole life with them. 

Looking back maybe you should’ve known better. The first sign should’ve been your surname. A Malfoy has expectations they have to meet, keeping the bloodline pure, for starters. 

The second one should’ve been your parents’ loveless marriage, when you were younger you used to wonder why they’d married at all, now it was quite obvious. 

The third and most evident should’ve been when Andromeda Black was disowned. At that time you didn’t truly understand what that entailed, and why it was such a hassle that she wanted to get married. Now you understood that the problem was not the wedding, if not the groom. 

All your fantasies about the commonly named ‘Big day’ were completely shattered when your 18th birthday came, and with it a letter from your parents which contained the name of your soon to be husband. You tried to fight it, which only made your parents move the date of the wedding forward and get you out of Hogwarts, your education didn’t matter anymore to them now that your future as a housewife was inevitable. And being away from Hogwarts also meant being away from the ‘bad influences’ in your life. 

Now the corset of your white dress was suffocating, you felt trapped. Looking at the mirror was like looking at someone else. The girl with lifeless eyes and heavy make-up that couldn’t hide her eyebags was supposed to be you, yet it felt like a perfectly modelated version of yourself, made to impress the high class families attending the wedding. 

Narcissa’s gentle hands were bradding your hair, finishing your look before the wedding. Usually her presence was able to calm you down. Ever since she married your older brother, Lucius, her presence was regular in family gatherings and you’ve always felt some kind of kinship with her, seeking shelter on her whenever the phony and pompous encounters became too overwhelming.

You could attribute your shifted feelings towards her to the fact that she was unknowingly preparing you for eternal misery, or maybe because she was replacing the ones who you would’ve chosen as bridesmaids - there was no place for muggleborns in an event celebrating the union of two pureblood heirs -. Or even because it was her little cousin the one you were to wed. 

“You look beautiful” said Narcissa once she was done with your hair. 

You nodded and gave her a small thank you. However, you disagreed completely, the girl she was looking at was not you, it was your parent’s perfect daughter. 

“You do look lovely, father and mother are going to be delighted” your brother’s voice came from the door, where he was leaning on. “I brought you some company” he gestured behind him. 

Pandora and Dorcas stormed into the room, the former embracing you into a tight hug when they spotted you. Lucius and Narcissa left the room. 

“How are you holding up?” Pandora asked as soon as the door closed behind Lucius and Narcissa. Her arms were still holding you tightly, Dorcas standing behind her. 

You shrugged at her, not being able to talk due the knot in your throat and the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You kept your eyes glued to the mirror. 

Pandora stepped out of the hug and stood next to Dorcas, who had yet to speak. 

“Evan and Barty are with Regulus, I swear I never thought I would see him in a tux” said Dorcas, trying to make conversation. The thought of Regulus being in the same situation as you didn’t make you feel better, the knot in your throat was getting tighther by the second. You promised to yourself you wouldn’t cry anymore, to be honest you thought you had run out of tears days ago. 

“Sirius is here too” Pandora was trying to distract you from the wedding. If she was being honest with herself there was nothing they could do to make you feel better. But maybe knowing that your best friend was out there could help a little. 

That made you finally look away from the mirror, a small wave of hope cursing through you. If Sirius was here it meant that James could be too. In the eyes of your family his family’s name was not good enough for yours, but maybe it was enough for him to be a guest. 

Maybe it was selfish to wish for him to be there when you knew how much it would hurt him, but you needed to talk to him, he was the only one who could actually comfort you right now, the only presence that would make everything feel normal again. You yearned to feel his touch against your skin and his lips against yours, even if it was for one last time, as a farewell. 

“Is he… Is James here?” you spoke for the first time. 

The answer was clear in the pitiful look they gave you even before Pandora replied with a soft ‘no’. 

You don’t know what did it, if the look in the faces of your friends or the fact that you would never see James again, but tears started rolling down your face. In seconds you were being embraced by Pandora again, and Dorcas’ hand was wiping away your tears. 

“It’s okay, you are going to be okay” Pandora didn’t believe her own words, but there was little she could do to calm you down and you both knew it. 

There was a knock on the door and your dad’s voice came from the other side “Y/N, it’s time” 

Pandora gave you a squeeze before letting you go from the hug. They both left the room, not without giving you a forced smile. 

“Oh, merlin” you said to yourself as soon as you were left alone, going back to the mirror, you wiped the few tears that were left on your face, and tried to fix the smudged make-up around your eyes with your fingers. You didn’t want to give your parents the satisfaction of seeing how much this affected you. 

Once you looked mildly presentable again you exited the room. Your father was waiting for you and he offered you his arm to lead you towards the venue. 

You could see the whole venue from the end of the aisle. The green and black motives contrasted beatifully with the white flowers decorating the aisle and the top of the altar. The guests were placed in black chairs at both ends of the aisle. 

You weren’t brave enough to lift your glaze from the ground, knowning that you wouldn’t see the love of your life waiting for you as you had dreamt since you were a kid. The heavy veil of your dress made your steps slow and lethargic. 

It was not until you were halfway down the aisle that you gathered enough courage to finally look at the man in front of you. Instead of the boy with unruly curly brown hair and eyes filled with love, there standing was Regulus, his black hair slicked back and eyes drowned by the same defeated look you wore. 

Once you reached his side everything went in a blur, all you remember is him taking your hands into his and the officiant talking. 

“If anyone has any objection, speak now or forever hold your peace” 

You were really going insane because you swore you saw James standing at the end of the aisle, wearing a tuxedo and with his hand up in the air. 

“I oppose!” His voice was loud and clear, your eyes widened. 

All the guests' eyes went to his figure and several surprised gasps were heard. Maybe you were not hallucinating. 

───✥───

If Fleamont Potter ever found out how James was using his inherited cloak of invisivility he’d be horrified, or maybe oddly proud of his son. 

Not even James thought he would ever sneak into a highly patrolled wedding on a common Tuesday, but honestly if someone had told him a year ago he’d be doing this he wouldn’t be surprised. 

Sneaking in a wedding filled with pureblood families and slytherin students was the perfect setup for a Marauders prank. However, what would have surprised him would’ve been the reason for interrupting a white veil occasion. Dating a Malfoy was something he hadn’t expected to ever do, but you had gotten past all his defenses with your kind and bright personality that proved to be so different from your family’s pretentious ways. 

Therefore, he was now standing on the aisle you had walked minutes ago. He had a perfect view of you and Regulus from his stance, your white dress was gorgeous, and your hair was neatly done. If it weren’t for your puffy and bloodshot eyes, and the obvious defeated look in your face, a look that had no place in a wedding, he could almost believe this was a normal marriage ceremony. 

When you had received the letter from your parents you had been inconsolable, and rightfully so. James had tried everything to stop the wedding, he even went as far as asking your parents for their blessing and to be the one you'd wed instead of the Black heir. Turned out to be useless as his family had been marked as blood traitors for eternity. 

But James isn't known for giving up easily, and the Marauders were not going to let an opportunity to cause havoc pass by. 

With the promise of being on his best behavior, Sirius had convinced his parents to attend the wedding as a guest, acting as a mole for his friends' plans. Remus and Lily were outside the venue with their ride home -a couple of broomsticks they borrowed from Hogwarts' supply closet. 

And the last part of the plan, and its success rested on James' shoulders. 

The preacher spoke 'Speak now or forever hold your peace' James smirked, that was his cue. It was on. 

James took off his invisibility cloak and without a single trace of shame or shyness in his voice James stated loudly "I oppose!"

James would've loved to stop for a moment to memorize the looks of complete horror in the faces of the guests, but he had to be fast and make total use of the element of surprise. 

Without hesitation James sprinted towards the altar. He could see the way your brother had stood up and pointed his wand at him, his spell being intercepted by Sirius' expelliarmus spell. 

As soon as James made it to the altar chaos erupted from everyone in the venue, he could make out the shouts of your parents and some spells that were being intercepted by yours and James' friends. 

At the sight of James Regulus let your hands go, he raised his arms in defeat and left the altar without much hassle. 

"Gentleman" James greeted Regulus' groomsmen, Barty and Evan who were just as stunned as everyone, all they could do was nod in acknowledgement to James, not even trying to interfere. 

"Hi, love" he was finally looking at you, your eyes were wide with surprise and tears were gathered in your waterline. James took your hands in one of his and the other was raised to stroke your cheek. 

“James what- how-” you were completely astonished, and unable to formulate a single phrase. You knew your boyfriend loved you, and the lengths he would go to prove it, but you would have never guessed he’d be willing to break into your wedding ceremony. He was always proving you wrong. 

“Hey Peter, mate, it’s your moment to shine” Following james’ words a rat came out of his pants’ pocket. 

And suddenly Peter was standing in front of you. He pushed the appalled officiant slightly to the side and took his place. 

Peter cleared his throat before speaking “Do you, James Fleamont Potter, take Y/N Malfoy as your wife?” 

“I do” 

“Do you, Y/N Malfoy, take James Fleamont Potter as your husband?” 

You could hardly mutter a low “I do” before Peter spoke again 

“I declare you husband and wife. You might kiss the bride” 

James didn’t hesitate for a moment. To add dramatism he spun you around and dipped you, holding your weight with his arm. And without waiting for another second he kissed you, sweet and slow, conveying all his love for you with that gesture. 

When you became breathless you broke the kiss and looked at James straight into his beautiful eyes, which only show deep adoration. “I love you” you mouthed to him, which made his eyes sparkle with joy and a wide grin to break into face. 

He took you in his arms bridal style and walked down the aisle. You coudln’t even care about the chaos and spells that were aimed your way, all you could look at was James. 

And as he muttered “I love you too, Miss Potter” you knew he’d do anything to prove his love for you. 

Author's note: This one is of my faves of the collection ngl, James is my soft spot Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated. I'd love to hear what you thought about it so don't be shy!! To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Taglist @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsim @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo 

[mochatsin]

WHEN MC GETS CATCALLED

Being a very extraordinary human, you’re bound to draw attention to yourself without meaning to. That includes the attention of unruly demons who can’t seem to take their eyes off you. One of them eventually crosses the line by calling you names and saying inappropriate things about you, but luckily one of the demon brother’s overheard and was there to help you.

Some scenarios have MC overhearing this or it happens behind their back. Even though the words aren’t explicitly said, please exercise caution if these things make you uncomfortable! Also has some violent themes with some of our favorite protective demons.

------------

Lucifer

Lucifer was on his way to meet you at this restaurant because he wanted to treat you to dinner as thanks for accompanying him with one of his errands that Diavolo has sent him on. With your help, it significantly lessened the headaches and workloads he has to deal with on a daily basis.

You’ve done a lot around the house, so it’s only fair that he would take you somewhere more high end right? You’ve already frequented some of the other restaurants with Beel, so Lucifer wants to take you to somewhere more high class. He wants you to feel special tonight, and mostly to lower the chances of his brothers barging in and ruining his dinner plans.

He was waiting by the table he reserved when he saw you walk in the entrance. Given the venue, Asmo decided to make sure you look your best to surprise Lucifer because he wants you to really capture everyone’s attention because you deserve to be the star of the night.

Well it did work because to Lucifer, you look absolutely stunning. He should’ve taken you out to these sorts of places more often if it meant he’ll see you like this. If only the constant house repairs and bills his younger brothers make him pay didn’t get in the way. 

Though his admiration is cut off when he notices other demons looking at you with this predatory look in their eye, as if you were the main course walking into this restaurant. He’s holding onto anything to keep himself in line.

The last straw was when he heard the things some waiter said about you. To speak about you so lowly is insulting, there’s no way for Lucifer to sit still and act like he didn’t hear all that. The air feels so heavy to breathe in it feels like glass could shatter from the sheer pressure of it, and a deadly aura can be traced towards your reserved table. 

“Do you wish to keep your tongue? Or would you prefer to keep speaking and see where this knife goes?” Lucifer’s gaze is cold and threatening while his grip on the butterknife tightens to the point he’s almost deforming the metal. Even though he’s only talking to the waiter, he’s clearly sending the whole restaurant a message. 

You knew you needed to do some damage control and tried to get Lucifer out of there, coaxing him to calm down before it could get any worse. He decides to listen to you for now, because this whole night was meant to treat you and not stress you. 

“It’s best if we get a change of scenery. There are too many pests in this restaurant, let me take you to a nice place. Somewhere more deserving of your presence.” Lucifer would not want to dine in a restaurant if their food is served by these kinds of waiters. He’d say it’s unprofessional customer service, but you can tell it’s very personal.

He takes you to somewhere fancier and possibly more expensive. Though he’s going a bit out of budget tonight, it’s to make up for those awful words that the waiter said about you. He hopes that you don’t shy away from dressing up so nicely, because he’d want to show to the world why the Avatar of Pride chose you. He’ll treat you like royalty if he has to.

It takes one awful review from Lucifer to have the establishment shut down under the order of the young prince. He doesn’t care what strings he has to pull if it means that your stay in Devildom would be much more comfortable. You should never feel unsafe like that again.

Mammon

Every other week Mammon would make a stop by the casino to try to score some extra grimm. As if his streaks of bad luck won’t be enough to keep him away here, and not even Lucifer’s punishments can put a cease on his bad gambling habits. It’s an itch in his brain that he’s gotta scratch after all! He’s optimistic each time he enters the casino in hopes he’ll score big.

There are a few occasions you would join him if your schedule allows it. Sometimes it’s to keep an eye in case Mammon goes too far with his bets as Lucifer instructed, because he doesn’t want him to come home with more debt than he left with. Though in all honesty, you’re there for the smile your first demon gets whenever he actually wins. 

At some point Mammon believes that you’re his lucky charm when he notices how he’s been scoring more grimm than he expected whenever you’re around. If he finds that your schedule is free, then he’s definitely dragging you along. 

He likes to rub the top of your head sometimes for some extra luck before making a bet. Though he prefers it more if you’re sitting next to him when he does so. He says it’s for luck, but he just wants an excuse to have you by his side.

The demons at the opposite side sees you and begins to make snarky comments accompanied with wolf whistle. The discomfort is evident in your eyes as you instinctively move closer to Mammon, and he’s definitely not having it right now. 

Screw everything, if this asshole is picking a fight then that’s what Mammon will give him. If the demon wants to take hold of what’s his then Mammon will make it very clear to the entire table that you’re not up for grabs no matter how much grimm they’ll put on the table.

“Ya wanna make a bet how many teeth i could make ya cough out in a minute?” Mammon said, flashing a grin far too sinister. Being the second strongest and even the fastest, it doesn’t seem like a wise thing to gamble on so the demons shrunk in their seats.

You like to think that luck is finally on Mammon’s side today when he won the round. Though it’s definitely Mammon’s threatening aura around the table that impaired the everyone’s ability to make a wise decision when placing bets. 

When he walks out with his earnings, his grip on your hand is tighter than usual while he checks his surroundings. He holds you like you’d get snatched away at any moment, and it doesn’t seem like he has any intention of letting you go until you both reach the house. 

“You’re my treasure, but that doesn’t mean I like it when other demons check ya out like that.” Mammon is quite protective of his valuables. You and Goldie are on the top of the list. He’d play it off as acting this way as part of his role of Greed, but it’s clear he’s worried about you. 

Whenever you text Mammon that you’re going to fetch him from the casino, he’s insistent that you either bring one of his brothers with you or wait outside because no way is he going to let other demons look at you like eye candy like that ever again.

Levi

Despite being a bit recluse and shy, Levi is not afraid of the prospect of cosplay when it means that he gets to express his love for his favorite series. He puts in a lot of work into sewing his costumes and making sure it looks perfect for the next upcoming convention.

He’s ecstatic when you agreed to cosplay with him this time, even matching with his favorite character. As soon as he got over the fluster he got from the idea, he’s quick in whipping up clothes for your size and you both spent a lot of time in his room trying to get your outfits right, or going outside to get some more materials. 

The process was fun for Levi when he gets to do these sorts of things with you, and the payoff was worth it when you both finally got to see the end results. Levi is so confident, you two look like an absolute power couple… from the anime, yeah definitely. If Levi tried to say that again he might burst into flames.

You both go to the con and have an absolute blast taking photos together or with other people who are also fans of the series. Levi wants you to enjoy the thrill of cosplaying! But he eventually noticed midway that you’re starting to look uncomfortable. Maybe it’s the clothes? Wearing cosplay for so long can be tiring after all.

He stops when he hears a passerby making comments about you in the outfit, and it’s clear that it’s starting to make you uneasy but there’s no way that Levi is going to let someone ruin this event, not when you were clearly having fun together.

“Those aren’t compliments. They're just straight up offensive! A MOCKERY to fans who dedicate so much time and effort to the things they love!” Levi hisses because this person not only insulted the whole cosplay community, they insulted you of all people. 

You helped Levi get out of his shell and come to his aid whenever things start getting overwhelming for him. Levi doesn't want you to feel that unease, he wants you to feel safe! What if you don’t want to do matching cosplays with him anymore? That’s unacceptable!

Luckily some other people got some security to drag the creep away since there’s already a record of making other cosplayers uncomfortable as well. Levi doesn’t dwell on that though, he grabs you and gently leads you away from the crowd of onlookers. 

He tries to play it cool but if it weren't for the makeup and props on his face, you’d definitely see how red he looks right now. He mumbles something about how he must’ve sounded so stupid back there like what was he thinking… 

“I-i know that some otaku like me can’t be like those heroes i dress up as but… y-you can rely on me too!” Levi managed to say through the stutter, though just saying things like these out loud makes him wish for the ground to swallow him up. 

Levi would buy you something to cheer you up and forget about that experience, anything to bring a smile back on your face. Any merch of the series you like, maybe gamble on some cute gachapons, or just buy some desserts together. He wants you to feel better!

If other fans want to take pictures with you and you start feeling uncomfortable, Levi would do his best to drag you away or reject them for you. It’s taxing work and definitely doing numbers on his social battery, you’ll both be holed up in his room to recover after this whole ordeal. 

He’ll have pictures of both of you in cosplay as his wallpaper at some point, maybe show off some of your best pictures to his brothers. He would ramble on for so long about how you look great in the picture and really embodied the character you were dressing as. If some demon can’t appreciate you back there in the con, then Levi will definitely worship you. 

Satan

Instead of Libraries or Cafes like you both usually go to, Satan wants a nice change of pace this time and brings you to an orchestra. Through his connections, he was able to get both of you two tickets to the best seats in the house.

There’s no special occasion, he just wants to treat you to some of the finer things Devildom has to offer. Though he doesn’t really have the wallet like Lucifer does, he at least has the connections to make up for it so Satan can take you to galleries and things like these.

He was on his way to the venue where you were already waiting for him. But he stops when he hears some demon making revolting remarks about someone he saw at the entrance, only for Satan to realize that person was you when you were the only one by the doors. 

You could practically feel the rage burning through him the moment you two meet, and it looks like he’s hardly containing his wrath. Though Satan promised you a nice night, it would be a shame to waste these expensive tickets by going feral right now so he decides to keep it to himself. 

He keeps you close for the night, giving you the royalty treatment and whispering sweet nothings by your ear during the orchestra. If you ask him what brought up this sort of behavior (not that you’re against it), he’d just smile it off. He’d be honest about it, but not tonight. Satan wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of the play worrying.

“Something just brought down my mood, though it made me realize just how special you are to me. I’d do anything to keep you safe, and make you smile.” He whispers by your ear, wrapping an arm to bring you closer to him as you both listen to the orchestra. 

His eyes narrow as soon as he spots the demon from earlier just a few seats across from you. His pupils dilate, like how a cats’ eyes would when it spots a prey to stalk. 

From time to time his gaze would turn to your side, and if that bastard would ever even look at you for even a millisecond then he’s gripping on the armrest for his dear life because he swears he’s going to throw a punch or even worse. 

But no, Satan can be patient and cunning. He waits until the demon excuses himself to the bathroom, and Satan promptly follows behind. The demon was simply washing his hands and by the time he looks up the mirror, Satan is already looming behind him with a smile that doesn’t seem to match the aura he’s giving off. 

“Let’s be thankful that the orchestra seems to be quite loud for now. It’s a shame I’m going to miss it with my human, but it’ll be perfect to cover up any screams” Satan says with a sinister grin. If those eyes cannot see your true value, then those eyes are not worth keeping. 

Satan comes back to you with a smile on his face, apologizing for taking a bit long in the bathroom before you both enjoy the rest of the show while holding hands. He’ll occasionally place a kiss on the back of your hand, enjoying each reaction he’ll get from you.

The demon’s seat remains empty for the entire night and the bathroom is closed for ‘maintenance’ when you check. 

Asmo

What started as a usual hangout with Asmo quickly turned to a day in the mall. For the demon’s defense, it was the perfect opportunity after he tried to help wash your clothes and realized you’re wearing the same ones every week. 

He will not stand for this when Devildom’s fashion line has so much to offer for you. You’ve been cycling through the same outfits recently, and Asmo wants you to have a new look!

Unlike his usual clothes shopping spree with you where he makes you try a heaping basket of outfits, Asmo wants you to choose whatever you want to wear this time and see what kind of clothes catches your eye.

Clothes tell a lot about a person, so he wants to see your aesthetic properly and know what you personally like. You try on the outfits you like and he’s loving the smile on your face each time. Of course Asmo would have suggestions, but not the kinds that would stray away from your aesthetic but rather improve it.

Asmo was waiting patiently for you in the dressing room when he heard some demons behind him, a few aisles back, talking about how absolutely delicious you looked. Even going as far as thinking of grabbing a bite and just hearing such words is making Asmo’s blood boil. 

He’d stand for it if it were directed at him, but to his human? He will not let some lesser demons talk about you that way. If anything, those demons should be cowering for you because of how stunning you are! 

“My love did not spend so much time trying out clothes that make them happy only for maggots like you to gawk at them that way.” Asmo glares, his eyes having that hypnotic enchanting glow in it. With the demons under his spell, Asmo has so much planned. A whole world of pain was waiting for them until he heard you from the dressing room calling out for him.

Asmo quickly utters a command to make the demons leave, he’ll just have to deal with them later. Maybe later he can ask Satan for a curse to force them to cry and make their tears burn like acid if those demons ever laid their eyes on you like that again. 

He’d have his usual smile plastered on his face as soon as you walk out the dressing room with another outfit you chose, though he sounds much more enthusiastic last time. Asmo is showering you with praises, he’ll find a way to make a compliment that brings a smile to your lips no matter what you wear. There’s no innuendos or any poor attempt at flattery, he sounds genuine this time.

“This isn’t just some sweet talk! I love your smile whenever you wear something you like and feel good about it. You should wear these more often, and maybe after this we can find some accessories to match your style!”

Asmo doesn’t tell you about the things he heard from when you were still in the dressing room, he thinks there’s no need for you to waste time on such things. Though you’ve noticed how he seems to have two lesser demons following him around and carrying all his things for him. Satan just says that they did something to upset Asmo, now they’re practically his slaves until he feels better.

Beel

You often drop by before Beel’s Fangol practice to give him a snack, your own personal way of cheering him on and wishing him good luck. Beel loves your generosity, and eating food that came from you specifically seems to energize him more.

Sometimes he’d spot you watching over him by the bleachers, either by yourself or with Belphie napping on your lap. You’re like his personal cheerleader, and whenever you both lock eyes he can feel his heart making leaps in his chest when you wave at him. 

He’s by the locker room changing out of his sweaty clothes when he overheard one of the demons talking about the exchange student watching over them. Beel could tell from their words that they seemed interested in you, which didn’t leave a good feeling in his gut.

Eventually their words became something much more twisted and vile, saying things that Beel would never associate you with. He’s had enough of sitting by and letting them just think they could talk about you like that and get away with it. 

There’s a loud BANG! And the sound of metal crunching. The demons turned around to see that Beel, out of pure anger, slammed the locker door hard enough that it’s barely hanging on by the wedges. There’s even a large hand print if they looked close enough. 

“If you keep talking that way… our next training sessions are going to be very rough.” There’s a growl as Beel spoke, his gaze making the demons feel so small before he left. He knows they’re supposed to be his teammates, but that doesn't mean anything to him after what they’ve said about you.

You walk up to him in a hurry as soon as you spot him after practice, asking him what was that loud noise you heard from the locker room. Beel blinks at you for a moment before smiling, “my teammate just slipped and hit against the locker. Don’t worry, no one is hurt yet.” 

You tried to ask about the part where he said ‘yet’ but Beel’s roaring stomach made it cue, signaling that it’s time to grab a bite after training. Perhaps it’s best to drop it for now, there are more important matters such as making sure Beel gets something to eat before he throws a fit.

The next few practices, you noticed the aggressive behavior Beel is displaying during Fangol training. You know that it’s just a violent form of Football, but you’ve watched Beel purposely launch the ball onto his teammates faces and tackle them hard against the ground when he gets the chance.

Only Belphie knows the truth of why his twin is acting that way, but he tells you not to think about it too much. “Don’t worry, he’s just letting out some steam” He says, unfazed when he spots his twin hurling himself against his teammate and tackling him to the point he’s sure it could cause a concussion.

Belphie

Belphie may be Sloth incarnate, but there’s no denying that he’s smart when it comes to studies. You see him with high marks in class despite never catching him awake during the lectures. You’d see him sleep with his head next to a book and he wakes up like he knows everything in it’s contents.

You ask for his help with an upcoming report you have for your next class and even though he wanted to tease you about it, he can see that you’re a little nervous about it so he keeps that to himself and agrees to fill in the gaps of your knowledge. 

Belphie originally wanted to just telepathically tell you what to say, that’s an easy way out right? But you told him that it’s cheating and you want to study hard. Belphie playfully rolls his eyes but he does it your way and answers your questions on the topic. He doesn’t overwhelm you with information, but he helps tutor you so that you can have a bit of faith in yourself when you present to the class. 

He put in an effort to stay awake when it was your turn to present and he has this sleepy smile on his face whenever you two made eye contact. You put in a lot of effort in your report, and he feels happy for you when you finish without problems. He’ll congratulate you when he wakes up because he has no energy to listen for the rest of the lecture and sleeps on the desk.

Belphie woke up by the time class had ended and everyone was already preparing for break time. He peeks through his bangs to see that you probably already went ahead to the cafeteria and he was about to follow suit when he overheard a particular conversation between his classmates that were still in the room.

He thought they were talking about your report but it turns out that wasn’t the case. He hears all the disgusting things they were saying about you and it’s taking every bit of self control he has to stay calm, his fingers gripping onto the desk that there’s bound to be claw marks. 

The demons hardly noticed Belphie and talked without a care in the world as they’re about to exit the classroom. Though their bodies started feeling heavy and they were getting sluggish, like reaching the exit is suddenly a taxing thing to do. Eventually their bodies drop, hardly having the energy to move no matter how much they try. 

Belphie is standing above them, looking down on them as if he was staring at two piles of trash on the floor. “They spent so much effort on that report… I'm not going to let lowlifes like you tarnish all that.”

You were about to head back to the classroom with a snack you bought for Belphie as thanks for helping you, until you saw the demon just exit the room and close the door behind him. You tease him for oversleeping again before handing him the Devil Pudding cup you got for him. 

Belphie accepts the treat, and he’d tease you about looking so nervous before your report but he’ll praise you afterwards. “You worked so hard after all. You could’ve taken the easy way out or something, but you didn’t. You should be proud of yourself too…” 

When you two went back to the classrooms, you noticed some empty seats of what was previously occupied by your classmates. Someone told you that they started feeling ‘unwell’ and were sent to the clinic. No one really knows what happened to the demons.