#shout out all the writers who fuel me and my thoughts

[vnti-vntiety-recs]

Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better (M)

★  PAIRING: Academic rival!Haechan x afab/fem!reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 4.8k

★ GENRE(S): Smut, E2lover, Rival2lovers

☆ SUMMARY: Haechan and you have never gotten along, and your friend group is sick of it, so they make a bet that the two of you can't ignore. When put to the test, will your hatred for each other still stand?

★ ☆ WARNINGS: 18+, minors do not interact, Meandom! Haechan, aphrodisiac drug, mentions of drinking, sexual bet, sexual intercourse, swearing, unprotected sex, creampie, Haechan being mean, lowkey forgot what I wrote, so just BEWARE.

☆★ NOTES: Yuh! This idea has been stuck in my head for a while. Another saga of me failing the Don't write another hate2love challenge! FYI, I'm not a writer; I'm just a person who writes occasionally. Lovers in e2l not found more of a fuck buddy type relationship. Anyway I just wanted to say thanks for the support on my other fics. I don't usually write that often but the good feedback encourages me.

At this point, your friends were getting tired of it. You two were constantly at each other's throats. They initially believed you could'nt stand one another, but recently, the atmosphere in the room after your shouting matches was too intense to be fueled solely by animosity. The flames behind your eyes burned too brightly for them to be caused by resentment alone. They used to hold you back from lunging at him, but now they wondered what would really happen if you got your hands on him.

Haechan and you had known each other since middle school. You two shared a lot of the same classes, and unfortunately, you both had parents who expected you to excel in school. You were always trying to one-up each other or stamp out the other's resolve. Your relationship was rocky from the start, and even if you two weren't fighting for the top spot, you doubt you would find him likable.

Haechan was a natural at everything. He didn't have to try very hard to be the best; he just got it. On the other hand, despite spending hours studying, you could just barely match his performance. You were jealous of how easy he made it look. The fact that he would flaunt his success in your face didn't help.

“Can't keep up?” He would say after outperforming you on the final exam by 10 points, he had that same smirk that seemed permanently etched onto his face on full display. You had spent days preparing for the test, even skipping a few hours of sleep. Haechan never studied; the most he ever did to prepare for an exam was to quickly skim the material a few hours before the test. Even then, he would still ace it.

You expected to grow up and put the rivalry behind yourselves during high school, but he would jump at any chance to make you look like an idiot. You could say the sky was blue, and he would argue that it was actually the reflection of the ocean that gave the sky the illusion of being blue. Back in middle school, you limited all interactions with him for your own sanity. However, in high school, he somehow managed to join your friend group, so you were forced to endure him during hangouts. You eventually got used to his presence and the non-stop teasing. It wasn't until you received your acceptance letter to the college you would be attending with your friends that you thought you would finally be free from him. Haechan's parents had wanted him to go to a college that was 4 hours away from your hometown, and you counted down the days until graduation.

Luck was never on your side.

Due to Haecahan's tendency to put things off, he wasn't able to submit his application in time, and as the school was very competitive, the available spots quickly filled up. Luckily for him, your college had an extended application process, which allowed him to send it in late, and he was accepted. Now here you are two years into college, and Haechan is still insufferable.

You two were on two completely different career tracks, so your classes never overlapped, so at least you stopped fighting about grades. Being at the top doesn't matter to you anymore, anyway. You hated the pressure that your parents put on you growing up. Before, you would have had a heart attack if you saw a B, but now you just shrug them off. Even still, all you two do is just have petty arguments because that's all you have ever done.

“You would not be able to see an explosion in space; it's a vacuum; fire can't exist.”

"Well, I've seen Star Wars, so I think that proves my point.”

“That's Fiction! You know, like the idea of you having a brain,” you roll your eyes.

“Almost like your sense of humor? I was joking. Of course I know that I took astronomy before you," he smirks.

He was constantly trying to get under your skin. You take a long breath and try to calm yourself down. "Well, yeah, because I took a different science asshole." Your friends say it's because you always give him a reaction, but you hate being wrong. You had to get the last word, especially against know-it-alls like him.

Despite your complaints, he isn't entirely horrible. On the days that you two aren't arguing, he's making you laugh so hard that you practically fall over. He's not a complete jerk all the time; it's just that once you two get started, it's hard to stop.

“Oh please, can you two cut it out? You have either had too much alcohol or not enough if you can still think about arguing,” your friend Johnny slurs.

It's Saturday night, and you have just finished off an exhausting exam week. Your friends felt a celebration was in order to wind down from the trying week. Now the only thing trying was Haechan testing your patience. You're at Johnny's house, and everyone is spread out around his spacious living room, bottles of alcohol scattered several surfaces. Johnny’s family was well off, and he lived off campus in one of the few estates that his family owned. The house had two stories and a pool in the backyard. On the weekends, you would spend the most of your time here.

“You're right I came here to relax, not burst a blood vessel.” You sigh and take a seat next to Johnny on the couch. You take a couple sips from whichever unopened can of cheap alcohol is nearby. Even though you could already sense a buzz coming on, it needed to hit harder if you were going to have to deal with Haechan all night.

Hyuck chuckled and found a spot on the carpeted floor. "Sorry, the princess just seemed like her day was going too well; I had to ruin it a little," he said.

Your friend Yuna raised an eyebrow in his direction and smirked as she took another sip of her drink. “For you to hate her so much, you sure do spend a lot of time thinking about her.”

“One point Yuna, '' you smile at your friend's rebuttal. Arguing with Haechan could be tiring, but your roommate always had your back.

“I think you two just need to hug it out... in a room... alone,” your other friend Mark joked.

You dryly laugh, "So funny."

“You scared?” Hyuck says with a wicked grin. He leans back on one arm as he sips on his drink, still eyeing you confidently. It's at times like these that you betray yourself the most. He looks so good with his light brown hair framing his face; it's grown so long now that it covers his eyes if he doesn't push it back. The alcohol must be hitting because now all you can imagine is pulling on the soft brown locks and not out of anger. You must have taken too long to reply, because now he's raising an eyebrow at you.

“I wouldn't want to be alone with you even if you were the last person on earth."

Johnny cuts off Haechan's response before he can start. "Want to test that theory?"

Questions run through everyone's mind as you all turn to look at Johnny after his outburst.

“What, are you gonna kill us or something?” Haechan responds wearily.

"No, but I should, with the headache you have given me.”

“So…?” You urge him to continue.

"You two keep saying how much you can't stand each other, so how about we put that to the test?" Johnny closes with a sinister grin.

“I feel like you're gonna say something really stupid next." Mark comments

Johnny ushers your other friends into a huddle and tries his best to whisper in his drunken state.

"Guys, just hear me out? We can all feel the tension between these two. They clearly need to fuck or something, so how about we help them along so we don't have to deal with them trying to tear each other apart?”

“How would we do that?”

“We can hear you, and I am NOT fucking him."

“Oh come on, we see the way you two look at each other; you're both just too stubborn to realize it.”

"Hyuck, don't just sit there; help me out here!" you plead

“They have a point, though; you do want to fuck me,” he confidently adds.

"Please, you would be lucky enough if I poked you with a stick,” you say in distaste.

“Order! Order!” Johnny slurs, "Look, I have a way for you both to prove yourselves,” using his beer can as a makeshift gavel.

“Yeah, where were you even going with all of this? Man get to the point,” Mark mutters as he gets comfortable on the sofa.

“"What if you two take an aphrodisiac together and try not to touch each other? If you can last, then you two will win and show everyone how much you despise one another."

The room is silent when Johnny finishes pitching his idea. You think he definitely had one too many drinks tonight. What kind of plan was this? There was no way in hell you would go along with ANY of Johnny's half-baked ideas, but this one was especially crazy. You were just about to shoot down the idea when another voice interrupted you.

“I'm down. What? You can't stand the idea of keeping your hands off me?” Haechan grumbles upon seeing your reaction.

“what? I was just thinking this is stupid. What do I even get out of this? I don't care what you people think,” you huff.

“How about I give you each $500 if you win?”

“Do you-” you start.

“AND Mark does your homework for 2 weeks.”

“Hey! I didn't-” mark says

“AND Yuna does your share of the chores at your dorm.”

“WHA-!” yuna argues

"Deal," you quickly say before anyone can finish their complaints.

"Dude, this is not what we discussed,” Mark complains. Johnny whispers to him about something, and he perks up a little as Johnny makes him a promise. "Fine"

Johnny lays down the rules for you two. You and Haechan will both take an aphrodisiac pill and be restricted to the upstairs bedroom. You’ll have to stay in the room with each other for 3 hours, and if you two can withstand the 3 hours without touching each other, you win. If you lose, you both have agreed to play nice with each other or at least around other people.

As soon as you both take the pink pill, Johnny starts the timer. You make your way up the stairs to the bedroom, where you often crash on the weekends. This was definitely not how you thought you would be spending the weekend.

“We’ll come knocking when the time’s up! Yuna yells from downstairs.

You pout playfully and mock her from over the railing of the stairs. She was supposed to be the reasonable one.

“Oh real mature,” Haechan chuckles as he shuffles past you up the stairs. The staircase was really narrow, and you could practically feel his body heat against you as he went. The pills' effects haven't even fully settled in yet, and you're already feeling things you shouldn't. If you were planning on winning, you would have to get it together. Maybe this wasn't as easy as you thought.

As you make your way up the remaining stairs, you see Haechan standing by the door frame, waiting for you. He rolls his eyes. "You're stalling."

You murmur under your breath, "I'll literally give you my half of the money if you shut up for the next three hours," but drag yourself into the room nevertheless.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

The first 20 minutes aren't terrible. You guys make yourselves comfortable on opposite sides of the room and pick a random wall to stare at. As Haechan makes himself comfortable on the room's lone bed, you take a seat on a little bench that lines a sizable window. You're grateful he keeps his mouth shut. This was probably the longest you two have been in each other's presence without speaking.

It wasn't until about 30 minutes in that the effect hit you. Your breathing grew labored, and your blood started to flow through your veins more quickly. Your body started to heat up. To cool down, you placed your face on the window, breathing fogging the glass. When you looked up to see how Haechan was fairing, he was already looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes as his chest expanded with each deep inhale.

As much as he got on your last nerve, you had always thought he was attractive. His tan honey skin that glowed in the sunlight, his pretty moles that you would kill to kiss, and his gorgeous eyes that always made your heart beat just a little harder when he would glare at you whenever you hit a nerve. You loved seeing him worked up, but the few moments you got to see him when he was happy were moments you stored deep in the vault of your heart. You hated him; there was no time for admiring him.

You tried to shove those thoughts away, but It was as though all the thoughts you had been working so hard to suppress had suddenly surfaced. All you could think about was his plump lips and how they would feel on your body. How his fingers would feel encircling your throat, pressing the chilly rings that decorated his hands against your skin. His golden locks flowing through your fingers as you hold him close. You couldn't resist licking your lips at the idea.

“Don't fucking do that,” he abruptly spoke. He closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath. He spreads his legs further, trying to get comfortable in his spot across the room.

You try to fight the urge, but your eyes travel down his body to the bulge in his sweats. You immediately cross your legs at the sight. You had to clutch onto the pillows of the seat you were in; otherwise, you don't think you could stop yourself from crossing the room in a heartbeat.

“What? Can't handle it hyuckie?” You coo at him, using the old nickname you haven't called him since middle school. You had to find some ground in this setting. You couldn't let him see how weak he was making you.

"Out of all the times you pick to be a brat, now is not the time," he grumbles mockingly.

“Why? Am I getting on your nerves? Hmm, I could only wonder what that must feel like,” you sneered. You were so horny, it's pissing you off. You decide Haechan can use a taste of his own medicine, and what better way to blow off steam than to get under his skin?

“Maybe they were right. Maybe you do need a good fuck for you to lose the attitude.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

"Careful," he smirks, licking his lips.

You know that look; he's testing you. He's daring you to say something else.

"That's what I thought," he says, closing his eyes and attempting to control his breathing.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

You're about an hour in, and you can't take it any longer; you're practically rutting against the seam of your jeans, hoping for some kind of friction.

"Please, I can't do this anymore," you cry out for air. You turn to face him, but he doesn't answer. His eyes are closed, and his brows are drawn together as if he's in pain.

“Haechan!” You scream again; this time he slowly opens his eyes, and you suck in a breath as your eyes meet. His pupils were completely blown as sweat pricked his brow.

“Are you giving up?"

You nod in response.

“That's too bad; I still want to win,” he smirks lazily.

"Let's just forfeit; this is stupid!” You stand from where you were seated and head to the door. This prompts Haechan to finally move from his spot as he uses his long legs to cross the room in three wide strides. Before you can open the door, he stops you. For the first time since you two entered the room, he touches you. While keeping his body an arms' length away from you, he is shoving you up against the door by your shoulders. Your body is on fire at the mere touch, and you're grateful for the little bit of space he has given you.

“Calm down. Think this through,” he huffs as if out of breath. “just-just think of the money.”

“I don't care about this stupid bet! I feel like I'm going to explode,” you cry, fighting to escape his hold, but he just pins you back against the door.

“How about I take care of it then? Hmm?” He begs, never breaking eye contact. “I'll take the pain away, baby. Just work with me, yeah?"

"That defeats the point Haechan; we aren't supposed to touch each other; I thought you were smarter than that," you protest, growing increasingly frustrated.

“As long as you keep those gorgeous lips shut, nobody would ever know.” He slowly closes in on you as he speaks. “I help you out, and when we get out of this room, we pretend like nothing happened, and that we still can't stand each other, deal?” He's a breath away. The close proximity, the way he's practically breathing down your neck, and the look in his eyes that tells you he is only about 2 seconds away from devouring you were all you needed to go along with Haechan's scheme.

You stopped listening about halfway through anyway so you nodded mindlessly before closing the remaining space between the two of you. You're pushing off the door and pressing your body against his as you guide him towards the bed. Even though you can both feel your lungs starting to burn, neither of you has the strength to break the kiss. When his legs met the edge of the bed, he sat, giving you both time to regain your breath. He's resting back against his hands, looking up at you, and his legs are spread wide as if he were offering himself to you.

"Come on princess, take whatever you want from me," he smirks as you get into his lap and nestle down against the tent in his pants. You push him until his back is flush against the mattress, then mindlessly grind down on him. You use his chest to steady yourself as you throw your head back and drown in the feeling. You feel Haechan's hands gripping your waist and then traveling up your torso. His hands explored your body as you got lost in each other. Haechan sits up to meet your lips in another passionate kiss. As he deepens the kiss, he clutches your waist tightly to restrict your movements. You whine at the lack of stimulation, but all he can do is smile against your lips in return.

“Be patient baby; let me love on you.”

“This…was…not…a part of…the deal,” you try to finish as he lovingly pecks your lips.

"Didn't I tell you to keep your voice down? Shut up,” he says, ignoring your insistent whining, lavishing your face and neck in wet kisses. Any “loving” he was going to give vanished at your bratty behavior.

“Stop teasing, hyuck seriously. I think I'm going insane.”

You were on the verge of tears at this point; you needed him to give you some type of relief. That's exactly how he wanted you—desperate and needy—not like you already weren't, but he liked to push you to your limits.

“Lay down for me,” he says, releasing his grip on your hips and patting your thigh to signal you to get up. You swiftly move to lay on the bed, and you watch him as he pulls his shirt over his head and takes off his sweatpants, leaving him only in his underwear. He climbs the bed and helps you remove your jeans. As he's tugging the material down your thick thighs, you remove your shirt and bra. He settles between your legs, and you reflexively wrap your legs around his waist. He has to press his palm down against your lower stomach to stop you from grinding against him again.

"You promise to behave?" He prys your legs free from his waist, trapping them against your chest and restricting your movement.

You nod mindlessly, reaching out to grab him and trying to draw him into another kiss, but he pins your hands above your head, using his hips instead to further pin you down.

"Uh-uh princess, use your words," he adds coldly.

“Please hyuck, I promise I'll be good.”

“You going to be a good girl and keep that mouth shut?”

You were exhausted from having to use your brain to come up with a coherent response; you were at your limit. All you could think about was him filling you up, and every second he didn't, it felt like a year of your life span was shaved off. You did cry this time. You were so frustrated with him; he did this all the time. He never plays nice; he always makes you work for it.

"Oh you poor baby," he coos lovingly as he kisses your eyelids and wipes away your tears. "I'm sorry, but I have to hear you say it," he continues.

"I promise to be your good girl; I swear I won't make a sound, please," you sniffle, trying to hold back your tears.

“If I hear one sound, I'm stopping, and you can walk out of this room and finish yourself off, got it?”

You've learned to respond quickly when he asks you a question, so you nod your head with a "yes sir."

This makes Haechan smile wickedly. Who would have guessed that the same brat who walked into the room with him no less than an hour ago could be so obedient? He was definitely never letting you live this down when this was over. He finally decides to take pity on you, kisses down your body, and removes your panties. He threw your legs over his shoulders, and a quick kiss to your inner thigh was all the warning you got before he nuzzled his nose up against your clit as he licked into your entrance. He savored the taste with his tongue before licking up to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. The sounds his mouth made as he devoured you were wet and noisy as he slurped away at your essence.

You were fighting for your life above him. Reaching for a pillow that was just almost out of reach, you used it to smother your sounds. A sharp slap on your outer thigh served as a warning to keep your voice down. It was the only warning you were going to get. Soon the pillow is long forgotten as you gasp for air. Your thighs began to shake as you choked on your moans. Your back arches, and you can feel your eyes begin to roll. You were going to come, and you would have welcomed it with open arms any other time, but you knew how loud you could get. He was not letting up, and you knew if you came like this, you wouldn't be able to hold back the scream that's been dying to echo against the walls.

You try your best to fight it off. You frantically push at his head, begging him with your eyes as you trap your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to bite back moans. He shakes his head no, but the movement simply adds to the pleasure, and you're about to lose it. You try to get away from his mouth by shifting up the bed, but his powerful arms wrap around your thighs and pull you back down onto his mouth.

"Hae-" His look silences you, and your mouth hangs wide in a silent cry as you spasm on his tongue. It was the most intense orgasm you'd ever felt. Once he helps you ride out the wave, he kisses your pussy one more time before pulling away. As soon as he does, you snap your legs shut, still reeling from the orgasm. His face was practically dripping as he stared you down, hungry.

"Better?" he asks, brushing the back of his palm across his face.

"Mhm,” you reply, causing him to raise a brow, "better,” you quickly follow, using your voice.

Your eyes travel down his body until they reach what you’ve been craving for the most. Haechan was harder than you thought could even be possible. His tip was a furious shade of crimson, gleaming in precum. 

"One more baby," he strokes his length before hissing and gripping the base. "Just be my good girl one more time," he begs.

You almost feel bad. The whole time he was teasing you, he was also teasing himself. You're amazed he's maintained this level of self-control up to this point.

“I don't know if I can keep quiet if we continue,” you plead.

“Open your mouth” is all he says as he prys your legs open and settles between them.

You comply, and Haechan shoves your panties into your mouth. You try to object, but he covers your mouth with his palm for added security.

"My turn," he grins before bottoming out inside you. The first few strokes are so deep, you can practically feel him in your stomach. He's trying to keep control; he's trying to be gentle with you because he knows how sensitive you are, but he's slowly losing it. He's going to use you like a doll. His thrusts pick up pace, and all you can hear in the room is skin slapping against skin unforgivingly. The hand around your mouth clamps down harder as he buries his head into your neck.

“Im sorry... fuck” was all you got as he hiked your leg up higher on his waist, trying to hit deeper. His hot breath fanning across your neck and the soft staccato groans he lets out are the only indications that he is close. Your head is in the clouds, and you can't think straight. You barely register the fact that you came again until he bites at your neck to muffle his deep groan at the feeling of your walls tightening down on him. Next thing you know, he's snapped.

He quickly sits up, throwing your leg over his shoulder as he drives his hips down into you, practically fucking you into the mattress until his hips are stuttering. He pulls the panties from your mouth to kiss you in the hopes of drowning out his own sounds of pleasure. His kiss is messy. It's nothing but tongue and teeth as his thrusts grow slopy. He's practically whimpering into your mouth when he cums.He rides out his high before pulling away from your lips. All you can do is stare at each other as you catch your breath. There is a brief moment of silence before you both burst out laughing. He collapses next to you and pulls you close.

“You think they heard that?” he asks, panting.

"Oh, we definitely heard everything." A muffled voice can be heard through the door, and you assume it's Yunas.

You're too sleepy to feel embarrassed as your eyelids begin to droop.

"Don't worry, you two; we'll say you won as long as you don't try to kill each other again." Johnny's muffled voice can be heard next.

"I don't think she'll be able to do much for a while," Haechan muffles. Speaking to your sleeping form more than anyone else.

"I'll get the plan B girl. I gotchu," Yuna voice fades as she walks down the hallway.

She was definitely gonna grill you for the details. She always wanted a run-down play by play of everything that happened.

Soon, you found yourself drifting off to sleep in haechans warm embrace.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Johnny would call his mission a success. You two stopped arguing for the most part, and the group was able to enjoy more peaceful outings without the two of you turning every conversation into a debate. Your friends were fond of your bickering, but at times it could get to be too much. But now that your relationship with Haechan has blossomed into a….situationship? They were running into another problem.

You two fuck like rabbits.

No matter where you were, you two were slipping off to do who knows what or being all touchy-feely with each other, and your friends didn't want to see or hear any of it. But because you two seemed happier, they learned to cope with it. Yuna bought new noise-canceling headphones to use whenever Haechan would spend the night at your dorm. Johnny upgraded the speakers in the house so that when he had a party and you two snuck away, the music could blast louder to drown out your noises. Mark downloaded more mobile games on his phones to ignore you two when you would get all lovey during movie nights.

Haechan still picked on you, but he saved it more for the bedroom, and you still tried to test his patience any chance you got. You didn't know what you two had, but you didn't mind enjoying it while it lasted or even furthering it. You learned a lot more about Haechan and discovered that you two had more in common than you believed. You also learned he could be a real sweetheart sometimes. Maybe your friends were right all along, and maybe Johnny isn't as crazy as you thought. Maybe you didn't have to be better than Haechan all along.

Rushed ending opps

[reyesstrand]

20 questions for fic writers

thank you for the tags @welcometololaland @strandnreyes & @alrightbuckaroo <33 this was a much needed distraction tonight!

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

86

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

335,298

3. what fandoms do you write for?

predominantly 911 lone star. the only other thing i’ve dabbled in recently was the old guard

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos? (i’m going to exclude prompt collections here!)

like a bright new dream (first i love you)

wanna be still with you (2x08 coda)

lit the spark (that set a fire) (firefighter!carlos au)

take me back to the light (1x08 coda)

to be reborn (3x04 coda)

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i do!! even if it takes a few days (where i’m likely just staring at nice words in my inbox and using them as fuel to brighten my mood) i love having that connection, and seeing maybe what stood out to someone who read my silly little story

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

any of my codas that i wrote immediately after an episode aired—my 3x02 spec fic some and now none of you, or my 3x07 coda/3x08 spec fic not a victory march—simply because we didn’t know the outcome for these storylines yet, and i let myself get angsty.

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i think 95% of my fics have happy endings but to shout one out in particular….hm. i’d say got real love maybe—truly just. fluff. and the boys coming home to each other and making that official. i also think the proposal bliss in (not afraid of) living on a fault line has got to be up there as well

8. do you get hate on fics?

nothing major

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

i’ve always stuck to very implied levels of smut in my fics….idk i always worry i won’t be able to make it sound good when there’s people out there who do it brilliantly. however i’m challenging myself with food fic which does have some smut (with feelings. oh the feelings)

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

crossovers aren’t really my thing!!

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

nope, would be honoured though!

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

love helping with brainstorming bits, but have never actually co-written anything

14. what’s your all time favourite ship?

tarlos brainrot always and forever

15. what’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i have tons of ideas that i never commit to, which sucks. off the top of my head…the andrea & tk fic that i just never got into a flow with

16. what are your writing strengths?

i think i’m strongest when it comes to setting a scene; when exploring what that character is feeling. i like to think i can kind of evoke a mood through imagery? i’m most comfortable when it comes to introspection and exposition and general narrative

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i tell myself i’m getting better, but i’d say dialogue is the constant thing that throws me off. i also worry i over-write sometimes

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i like it, if it’s being done with good intentions and suits the character. i’d imagine for heavier dialogue it would make sense to ask for someone who speaks the language to read it over to make sure it’s accurate

19. first fandom you wrote for?

i think the get down, back in like 2017

20. favourite fic you’ve written?

i can’t choose, so i present to you two wildly different honeymoons. first, dream this night away—almost 8.5k words after a seven month gap between posting when my writer’s block was at an ultimate high. then of course, to which there is no reply—i’ve been growing happier and happier with my writing especially with these last few fics of mine, and this one is something i’m just super proud of, and the support on it definitely brought me to tears a bit ajdnskdn

no pressure tagging @carlos-in-glasses @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @paperstorm @tailoredshirt @theghostofashton @inflarescent @birdclowns @liminalmemories21 @rmd-writes @heartstringsduet @freneticfloetry @orchidscript @tellmegoodbye @safeashousespdf and leaving an open tag as well!! <333

[wcrldcfvtlvs]

put  😈 💭  in  my  ask  and  my  muse  will  admit  one  dirty  thought  they’ve  had  about  yours. - Kallie <3

put 😈 💭 in my ask and my muse will admit one dirty thought they’ve had about yours. \\ accepting

disclaimer to future writers who send this meme: we have an established ROMANTIC ship, the replies will be longer, if we don't have an established romantic ship, they'll just give a general dirty thought that way everyone gets a chance to see what the Atlas' think when their mind is the gutter. ANYWAY onto the reply!

One thing about Kalmiya Iris Atlas-Lee is that when she was put under the spotlight, she shined bright, had no issues showing her talents, and could imagine that in a room full of people, she was the only girl in the world when she performed for auditions. However, when it came to saying what was on her mind? Saying dirty thoughts? That's when nerves wrapped around in a red bow of anxiety. However, this was Cal! She knew him, she trusted him and she could share some vulnerability with him even if it meant sharing darker secrets and curiosity that was fueled by spicy romance novels.

Taking a deep breath in and a deep breath out, dark brown eyes stared into deep green ones as she wore the most innocent of smiles while a blush painted her cheeks. " You wanna know what I think of Kestis? Alright, I'll tell you. " And from there, Kallie finally spoke on what she'd been thinking when she was alone in her room reading and fantasying.

" I think about what it'd be like to have a night with you, are you a soft and gentle guy who likes to make love, or are you the type to pull my hair, slap my ass and tell me what a good little slut I am when I come all over your cock. " Kallie laces her own fingers together as she rocks back and forth on her heels to her toes. Mainly for her own comfort, and she was getting the language from most books she read ( shout for Victoria for introducing her to the darker romances ). " I'm also curious what you'd like when I go down on you, and you come in my mouth. Would your eyes roll in the back of your head? Will you take a fist full of my hair and make me take every inch of you until tears are streaming down my face? Would you be gentle or would you absolutely break. me. " Kallie begins to close the distance and reaches up to him to pull him down to her level and softly whispers in his ear before giving his earlobe a playful nip. " I guess we have to wait and see, don't we? "

[samanthahirr]

Oooh, 7 or 20 for the writer meta asks, please! 💜

Thank you so much for this ask, Ani! Fun Meta Asks for Writers

#7 - What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?

Oooo, this is a tough one! I did quite a bit of thinking about this topic at the turn of the year. After a lot of soul-searching, I’ve determined what I think my strengths are as a writer: I know what makes a satisfying story/plot, I can deliver strong pacing and structure and parallels and themes. I bring the unreliable narrators and surprises, and all the side characters in my stories have their own motivations. I work hard to develop tension and conflict and believable characterizations. 

But what’s probably most-distinctive about my writing “style” is economy. I sketch an environment with a couple adjectives and then move on. I drizzle in exposition only when it’s needed/relevant. I don’t stray down side-alley tangents or linger in descriptions and introspection; I keep the story moving. And my writing is (deceptively) straight-forward: similes are rare, and my prose is direct as opposed to poetic. But just because it’s direct doesn’t mean the narrator is impartial in his observations, or being honest with himself (cough * Off the Books * cough).

Also, my spelling & grammar are always ON POINT.

Would others agree? Fuck, I have no idea. Some yes, some no. Shout-out to all the readers who have commented on my believable characterizations and intense planning/plotting! Shout-out to all the readers who were swayed by my unreliable narrators’ opinionated perception of their world and ended up hating characters I didn’t mean to be hated! Shout-out to all the readers who missed my foreshadowing or didn’t understand the theme! All of these comments inspire me to try harder with the next story.

#20 - Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

I love this meta question so much! What a great opportunity to peek behind the curtain of the fics I’ve most-loved to write! A few months ago I posted a 30k hurt/comfort-and-pining story called Please Ask (for Help), and I’m really proud of the choice I made for the romance arc and the late additions I made to the story outline to develop it.

The story is set over 10 days, in which Q gets struck by an SUV on his cycling commute, and Bond cuts a mission short so he can support Q during his first week of post-surgery convalescence. Bond is already in love with Q since well-before the fic starts, and he spends those 10 days of intimate care-taking secretly pining for Q, determined to conceal his feelings from his injured coworker. 

I started writing the fic with a brisk, shallow approach to the pining, sticking solely to the present-day, taking it for granted that James Bond was simply in love. (I thought it would be a 15k story. Hah!) I wrote the opening scene of the fic, and Bond thinks to himself, “Four months ago, James would have voiced every filthy double entendre that crossed his mind.” And when I wrote that line, I knew it was a keeper…and also that I would have to eventually produce an answer for what happened “four months ago,” which meant another phase of brainstorming!

Clearly, four months ago was the moment Bond realized he was in love with Q, but what spurred Bond’s realization? Was it something dramatic—an action scene or a kidnapping or a brilliant rescue? Did Bond get jealous of Q dating someone else? Did he catch Q naked, or did Q put another agent in their place with devastating sarcasm, or did Q do something that reminded Bond of Vesper? So many classic tropes I considered. But this was going to be a quiet, soft story about building trust and embracing vulnerability, so I didn’t want anything dramatic or sudden or violent fueling the romance. 

Instead, I chose to base Bond’s love on Q’s fallibility; Q’s characterization changed to that of a man too young for his promotion, who puts up an arrogant front of unimpeachable competence around his coworkers as a defense mechanism—an aloof act so convincing that Bond didn’t even consider Q a friend for the first months of their acquaintance. Not until Bond glimpsed Q’s weaknesses, a few rare moments of embarrassment that made Q feel like a real person to Bond. Over the course of the story, I interjected four short memories, each building the backstory of what it was about Q that made Bond fall for him: Q laughing at himself over a wrong answer at a pub quiz; Q asleep and drooling at his desk; Q distractedly pouring salt into his tea instead of sugar; and Q so engrossed in his work that he doesn’t realize he’s wearing his jumper inside-out. All moments when Bond got to see the real Q behind his proud work facade, made Bond want to shield Q from embarrassment, and made Bond recognize Q as someone human and worth adoring.

So I wanted to highlight those four memories in this meta post because they add a rich history to Bond’s feelings, and it’s easy to miss some of them amid the stresses of Bond’s present-day care-taking and Q’s physical challenges. And Q’s fallibility as the source of Bond’s love juxtaposes really nicely with Q’s initial resentment and humiliation at being so helpless and vulnerable in front of 007 post-accident—a delicious irony I used to torture Bond repeatedly! But over the course of Q’s convalescence, Q grows comfortable being vulnerable in front of Bond (as Q never would have been at work), illustrating how Q’s feelings for Bond are developing. And I really love how that soft emotional story line plays out in the fic, supporting the convalescence arc and building to the inevitable get-together. 

[usagihoppu]

Being bipolar is so strange because it's like someone else pilots your life for months. Then you crash back to your actual self and your life's now completely wrecked, and you only have vague memories of why.

I feel like I've literally lived multiple lives. Not in the birth/death sense, but like I have periods of my life where I wake up and I'm hyperfixated on something I've never cared about or even liked.

Let's say for example it's being the best athlete. I spend literally all my money, no I'm not exaggerating, on athletic gear, I train, I make new friends/love interests, lose old friends/love interests. Then like a few months later I wake up and have this moment of clarity of "what the fuck am I doing? I don't even like this, why is my life centered around it?"

So you change back to a "regular" state, and lose those new friends too because the idea of being in that world sounds as fun as walking on glass. And then you just kinda...stagnate until the next one. Often times you actually crash into a major depression after realizing what you did while manic. And then as you heal, you find new interests to make "yours" and not the manic version of yours. Except the next episode cycles in and a whole new fixation on that starts. It all repeats again.

I've been a professional classical musician, indie coffee house musician, drunk and drug fueled nights rock musician, teacher, artist, photographer, programmer, podcaster, streamer, only fans girl, writer, mangaka, animator etc etc etc. Nearly none of these to the quality of someone who actually knows what she's doing. Probably the teaching and music were the only things I had significant success in. Enough to make good money and live on it.

It's literally like I'm an rpg blank slate and someone randomly picks up my character creator and starts a new story then gets bored and leaves halfway through.

I have pushed nearly all my friends out of my life in these episodes and I'm incredibly lucky that a small few love me and understand me enough to know when I'm sick and when I'm me. And they love me regardless and have stuck around.

Idk what I'm really meant to be doing with this post. Venting I guess. Just wanted to shout my thoughts and frustrations into the ether.

[stapap]

The joy of missing out

Upon scrolling through my Instagram account, I see posts from a business site about robotic fuel pumps, an advertisement from an internet provider, a story from a Greek news site about Google's artificial intelligence writer, football (soccer) related posts from coaches I follow, funny dog videos, more advertising for internet providers, etc. I got a bunch of random and incoherent facts about the internet, business, sports, and dogs from just a 3" scroll. How did I feel after viewing that? Immediately hooked and eager to scroll further until I find something more satisfying. Scrolling down the abyss made me feel more helpless and anxious. Is there an antidote to it?

Information like this would satisfy some people's desire to "be informed," or to put it another way, "be aware" of what is going on elsewhere. A small amount of FOMO could be relieved in three seconds. FOMO, or fear of missing out is the punchline of social media not missing anything. It is a feeling of anxiety that comes from the fear of not being included or left out of something. FOMO is often associated with social media, where people fear that they are not experiencing the same things as their peers or not participating in the same activities.

FOMO is one of the reasons why people join and maintain social media accounts. As with drag users, social media users become obsessed with checking what's going on. We don't want to miss an announcement, a news headline, a trend, a dance, a challenge, and anything else that usually adds no value to someone's life. As we try to catch up with what we are missing out on, we can experience feelings of inadequacy, anxiety, depression, and irrational behavior. As a result, we may compare ourselves to others and feel jealous, as well as feeling overwhelmed and unable to keep up with life's pace.

What's the answer to FOMO? JOMO is an acronym coined by entrepreneur Anil Dash to refer to the joy of missing out. Taking a break from social media allows us to disconnect from the noise and distractions. By creating a space to take care of ourselves, we can enjoy the things we truly value, rather than being caught up in the fear of missing out on something. Kristen Fuller writes in Psychology Today that JOMO is an emotional intelligence antidote to FOMO. Rather than comparing our lives to others, we should focus on tuning out the background noise of "shoulds" and "wants" and letting go of concerns about what we are doing wrong.

What can we do to embrace JOMO? Don't live in the lives of others. Give yourself “tech-free breaks,” and permission to acknowledge your emotions. We can find happiness by being who we are now instead of trying to "keep up with the Joneses". Once our brain is free of competitive and anxious thoughts, we have more energy, time, and confidence to accomplish our true priorities. Spend time with people who support and uplift us, rather than criticize us for not living up to societal standards. Take time to appreciate the simple pleasures of life, such as an enjoyable walk, a cup of tea or a good book. Don't be afraid to take a break from technology; you will survive. All of these steps can help us let go of the need to compare ourselves to others, allowing us to truly embrace the joy of missing out.

As a final note, I will quote Australian cartoonist Michael Leunig's poem:

“Oh the joy of missing out.

When the world begins to shout

And rush towards that shining thing;

The latest bit of mental bling–

Trying to have it, see it, do it,

You simply know you won't go through it;

The anxious clamoring and need

This restless hungry thing to feed.

Instead, you feel the loveliness;

The pleasure of your emptiness.

You spurn the treasure on the shelf

In favor of your peaceful self;

Without regret, without a doubt.

Oh the joy of missing out”

Photo by Isaac Li Shung Tan on Unsplash

[dontblameit]

Billy resenting his mother for leaving him in an abusive situation and never looking back🤝 Billy yearning for his mother and forgiving her

Billy hating his dads guts and wanting nothing more then for him to DIE 🤝 Billy still wanting to have his dad since he’s the only parent he has left and he longs for his dad to just love him

things that coexist in my mind 24/7

[anarchyincarnate]

#VIL!SAGAU

-Beginnings-

I've read so many good stories set in SAGAU universe, so thought I would make my version of it.

Hope you all Enjoy!

CW; Imposter!AU, Blood, mentions of Torture, Angst, Slight Alive!Teyvat AU?

I'm still an amateur writer, so sorry if it's bad.

_____________________❂_____________________

You weren't sure how you ended up bound by your wrist, and at this point you don't care. Standing in front of you were the three Archons. Three of your most devoted acolytes, or so they say.

They guarded a person who had your appearance. A person who you sensed is merely a mortal. You have heard a few tales about Teyvat's deity [Due to you having the books in your archive] , and you are aware that they have an unusual color of blood. Liquid Gold.

The Archons were fueled by anger, and were blinded by the Imposters manipulation that they did not notice your shirt being stained with gold.

Gashes upon gashes litter your skin, deep cuts upon your chest and stomach courtesy of a polearm. Your ankles were broken, feet covered in burns as you were striked by lightning.

Your eyes gazed upon the Imposter, glaring at them with every fiber of your being. Barbatos noticed the Imposter shivered at your gaze, and he returned them towards you, glaring at you as well. In his hands, he had an arrow positioned to you.

"Hehe.." You chuckled, getting their attention.

"To think the Archons are such fools to torture the Deity they claim to worship, knowing well they're in front of them, Hurt."

Morax gritted his teeth, "Silence, you Heathen! How dare you claim to be our Deity, you Imposter!" He shouted at you. You merely laughed.

"I didn't think that the All mighty Morax can be easily fooled by a mortal, perhaps you've lost yourself, My dear..." You spouted, smirking at Morax's unchanging rage towards your words.

"Open your eyes, take a good look at me, look at what you've done..."

They did what you said, and you noticed the look in their eyes. Ei was the first one to falter, her polearm falling to the ground, making a large sound across the empty chasm. Her knees gave out, pulling her down to kneel before you. She had hurt Her Royal. Tears well up in her eyes, as she realised what she had done.

Barbatos covered his mouth in shock, a string of gasps and deep breaths shook him to his core, he struggled to breath as the wind became harsher, depriving him of oxygen slowly.

Morax felt the earth beneath him shake violently, pulling him down to his knees as well. He looked at you in despair as the situation dawned on him. You were hurt.

The Imposter was flabbergasted at this, "W-What're you doing?! Their the Imposter aren't they?! Why are you all kneeling?!" They shouted.

The winds turned high, causing the Imposter to suffocate due to oxygen loss. You smiled apologetically, but your eyes told them a different story. You didn't regret killing them.

Despite the agonizing pain youre in, you slowly shifted your body until you were standing, albeit slouched forward. Golden Blood seeped out further, pulling you closer and closer to death.

The Archons reached to you, struggling for oxygen that you've deprived them off. "look at you all, so helpless..." You cooed, anger lacing your voice.

"Y-Your Grace! We're sorry! S-So Very sorry!" Ei managed to get out, clutching her chest.

"tch... Teyvat, Take me far away from them..."

A sand storm had began to approach you four, covering their vision with sand blown by the wind, "I'm Ashamed of you three..." Was your words before you were taken by the storm, with Morax reaching out towards you.

[nevermoremagic]

Film Buff!JJ x Film Geek!Reader

obsessed with the idea of film geek JJ after he mentioned CHUD in season one so here’s this little thing I wrote that’s been collecting dust in my drafts for 2 years now. lets all ignore the fact that the Pogues are now stranded on an island post-season 2 :)))

you both like to fuel each other’s inner film geek

JJ brought up C.H.U.D. once and you flipped your shit

“Really? Jesus, JJ. I thought you had better taste than that.”

“Fuck off. Says the one who likes Jaws. I could craft a better Great White than that plastic piece of shit from the junk in my backyard.”

“And my cross-faded ass could write a better script for C.H.U.D. than the writers ever could.”

always bickering about which of your favorite movies are superior, but you enjoy watching them together nonetheless

OBX summer movie nights, drive in theaters, days snuggled in together where you watch films are some of your favorite dates

he really likes watching the sci fi and horror films, ofc

he turns into a giddy child whenever he’s super impressed by the editing or special effects in a movie

and you, you really like to keep an eye out for the artistic shots a director makes

but both of you get enraptured by screenplay, always so easily affected by the script if it’s really good

and you two always spend hours talking about the movie afterwards

...actor crushes that JJ gets jealous of

“You changed your wallpaper to Ben Hardy? Really, (Y/N)? What kind of relationship is this?”

“I didn’t say anything when I caught you fawning over Florence Pugh the other day.”

“...I was looking respectfully.”

weird compliments that the pogues don’t understand and frankly are quite concerned about?? but they try their best to ignore them

“I love you like Quentin Tarantino loves feet.”

“That is... the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

omfg CONSTANT movie references

when he’s dropping you off at work: “Au revoir, Shoshanna!”

or when he kisses you goodbye: “Here’s looking at you, kid.”

there was this one horrible time you and jj were spending the night at the chateau and y’all were forced to choose the couch closest to john b’s room, so of course, john b and sarah were banging all night while you and jj tried your best to cover your ears with pillows

in the middle of it, jj turns to you with a devilish smirk and says in the most melodramatic voice, “Listen to them. Children of the night. What music they make.”

THAT reference for sure earned him a smack to the chest

you like to send JJ and the rest of the boys off with a little, “carpe diem. seize the day, boys! make your lives extraordinary.” at the dock whenever they leave with John B’s boat.

“(Y/N), we’re fishing for lobsters. there’s absolutely nothing extraordinary about that.”

there was this one time you were stuck at a Midsummer’s party, sitting at a table bored out of your mind until jj just shows up?? dressed as a waiter even though he had no business being there and has the audacity to say to you, “nobody puts Baby in a corner” before grabbing you by the hand and whisking you away for night of fun

speaking of which, he would def try to rescue you from as many Kook events as possible

and that leads to his favorite movie reference from you; “Listen to me, Mister. You’re my knight in shining armor.”

jj likes to imitate romantic tropes he sometimes sees in movies and over do it until its almost parodical

boombox playing music outside of ur window? check

except he does it for the most random reasons

“Everyone’s going fishing tomorrow, you wanna join?” he asks while he’s leaning against the VW van, speaker in his hands and a smirk on his face

“Stop playing ‘Careless Whisper’ and maybe I’ll consider it.”

if he’s not blasting music, he’s throwing gravel at ur window and shouting, “Oh, Vivian!”

“Knock it off, Romeo.”

_____________

TLDR; you and JJ act like you’re starring in a rom-com indie movie.

damn, I haven’t logged into this account in a hot second. I'm probably not gonna write anymore imagines since I’m not as obsessed with Outer Banks as I once was, but coming back on here was so nostalgic :’) 

[rcksmith]

Desire — Kaz Brekker

(Photo not mine)

Requests: “Hello there! I've been around this blog for a bit now and you are an amazing writer! I was wondering if you would be ok with doing something with 21 28 & 29 from the smut prompts and kaz brekker? If you are uncomfortable please just ignore this!”

“Kaz brekker Smut prompts 28 66?? Love you💖!!”

“I can request Kaz smut prompts 29?❤️”

Smut prompts:

21. “Look at you, I’ve only started using my fingers and you’re already shaking.”

28. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

29. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

66. “You know I don’t like to be teased.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of shot, mention of desire, desire, mention of smut, explicit smut, NSFW.

Word count: 3k

A/N: All smut requests for Kaz must follow these rules.

I hope you like💕 English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — —

There was something about you. Something impossible to decipher, with a glow hovering around you like a electrical energy. Wrapping your whole body in a cloak of magnetism. There was something about the way you spoke, walked, laugh. Something about what it was like to be you, in your beauty and mysteries like a sphinx.

Something that made Kaz Brekker completely furious.

You couldn't be more distorted from the image, in Kaz's mind, than what was to be a peaceful woman. Calm, controled, with steel emotions and wit in eyes. Someone who, like him, knew how to dance the waltz of negotiation, manipulation, who could blend in with the shadows and know the best time to listen more than speak.

You were not like Inej, you were not like Jesper. Hell, you were like nobody Kaz has known in all of his 28 years.

Nothing reminiscent of calm and control would be used to describe what it meant to be you.

Your soul are stormy, loud, obstinate, too stubborn and too talkative. You needed to speak loudly, laugh, move, expose your opinions to the seven winds and to whoever listened the most. You needed to question, inquire, doubt and test the limits of any situation. A direct order for you would be an affront to your free and independent spirit. A command that would curtail your freedom or tame your strong genius was almost like an invitation for you to do exactly the opposite of what they had ordered you to do.

So, for a man of trained reasoning, subtly balanced world, and who was used to his every command being followed vehemently and promptly in blind obedience, such a personality like you was like introducing a disturbing factor capable of shaking all his judgments. Sand in a watch, or stone in a shoe, would be no more a nuisance than a strong nature like your.

The extraordinary stubbornness and mania to counter his orders - when, in your words, they were unreasonable - had made you different from all the women Brekker had ever met. Kaz liked challenges and responsibilities, a good puzzle, but you were on a level far beyond that.

You were a danger to his peace of mind. And you knew that. All his aversion to your indomitable spirit only served as fuel for your own mission in to piss him off. Few men were like Kaz Brekker, you knew that, with a strength of character too powerful to be ignored. He was not just comfortable in his position of authority as he was obviously unable to act in any other way than as a leader. His stoic figure and always so contained in a wall of indifference made you want to ruffle his hair to see if you could remove any emotion. And being a girl who hasn't always liked leaders, Kaz Brekker was a huge temptation. Few moments had been better than those that you managed to piss him off beyond what he could handle.

However, all the reasons why the two of you were so exasperating for each other, did not explain why the air crackled in ambiguity when your eyes met. The hemisphere was adorned in a thought-provoking, poignant veil, like a warm honey flowing down its throat, and there was something else in the way blood flowed like flames of fire through veins of you two.

Jesper said that the sexual tension between you was so tangible that it could be cut by one of Inej's knives, but you refused to think of Kaz that way. At least until that moment.

Not pure images of what the infamous Brekker could do to you between four walls swept you like the strong Arabian wind. Making you be surprisingly breathless. Kaz was not a man whose private life was exposed, nor was he involved with many women, but you have heard two or three of them when they were drunk saying that Kaz Brekker in the room could be incendiary.

Everyone knew that his touch reserve didn't limit him to anything, but that his job was at the top of the priority list and that sexual encounters were almost never on that list.

"It was not my fault!” Jesper defended himself one night, slightly drunk, sitting at the club's round table next to the other crows “I didn't know he was married to another man! That damn pretty face seduced me!”

"Did he seduce you?" You asked, skeptical and playful.

"I swear to God! And it had been a long time since I had sex with anyone, and I went… ”

“But you did sex last week." Inej laughed, chocked.

"Exactly!" Jesper said, as if he were obvious.

You laughed with your beer glass in your hand, taking another sip.

“Is a week a long time to not sleep with anyone?" Matthias retorted, trying not to laugh.

“Are you going to tell me that is not?” Jesper and Nina spoke at the same time.

“If a man has time for sex more than once a week, he clearly doesn't have much to do. And I'm sure I gave Jesper a lot of tasks that would keep him busy.” Kaz narrowed his eyes at his friend, and Jesper hid his guilt behind the rim of his beer glass, looking to the side.

"So you are saying that you are a very busy man?" You teased, trying not to laugh at the scathing look Kaz sent you.

"I disagree. The values ​​of hard work and discipline cannot match the hot body of a woman in bed.” Matthias said, exchanging a brief conspiratorial look with Nina, who winked at him.

"There are more important things." Said Kaz.

"Like what?" You rested your chin on the back of the hand whose elbow was on the table, the playful look of a rebellious student.

"Progress." Kaz held your gaze.

He wasn't going to take your bait. But you didn't give up easy.

"Tell me, if God gave you a deal: all the hunger in the world would be extinguished in exchange for you never being able to have sex again, what would you choose?" your eyes had a teasing feline glow.

At that moment, Kaz felt a shiver up the back of his neck, like a warm breath of autumn. Something crawled, like a snake, across his rib cage and down to his groin, pumping blood like fire through his veins.

He held your gaze, but the feline glow in your eyes promised to contain the most ardent sins. Suddenly, Kaz's mind was flooded by the wave of obscene images of you, on his bed; moaning, squirming, shouting his name and being very obedient with every order he gave you.

He would make you such a good girl...

"I don't believe in God." He replied succinctly, the predator's eyes still in your eyes audacious feline's.

A big, satisfied smile spread across your face, and you said: "As I thought. Bad luck for hungry people.”

Realizing that he had fallen right into your cunning trap, Kaz got rid of your diabolical magnetism and cursed.

“I didn't say…” he stopped, impatient “It doesn't matter. I have more important things to do than waste time here.”

But the smile you hid behind the glass was noticeable to Kaz.

After that night, the crackling, gasping flame that circled the two of you intensified to alarming levels. Kaz could feel you holding your breath when he was too close, and you could see him squeezing his cane harder when you sweetened your voice for him.

However, regardless of Kaz's wanted to fold you at a table and put an end to your brat girl pose, enjoying the groans he was sure you would let out, the two of you still fought like dog and cat.

Just as it was now.

“What do you mean, I'm not going?!” You looked at Kaz, amazed, when he told you that you would not participate in the robbery that week “I know that security system like the back of my hand!”

It was true, what you had of stubbornness, you had of technological intelligence. There was no computer that you would not hack, a program that you would not hack, and a system that you would not unlock. Your genius with technology made up for all your lack of obedience.

But Kaz ignored. “I've already told you. It's a more dangerous mission than you're used to and we don't have time for the plans you come up with right away.” He needled you.

“Are you referring to Switzerland?” You were never anything short of direct and inquiring. It was logical that you would question every orden. “But I already told you that when the alarm went off your plan didn't work anymore! I was more useful inside to deactivate the alarm than waiting outside.”

And stubborn. Holy God, how stubborn you were!

"And it cost you to get shot."

"But it was just a shot!"

Kaz looked at you, puzzled. “Just?! And wasn't it enough ?! You put the whole team at risk!”

“But if I hadn't deactivated the alarm, we would all be arrested! And only I knew how to do that!”

"My fucking God, isn't there a speck of common sense in you?!"

But you answered boldly: "Not when you impose clueless plans on me."

Mortified would be an understatement to describe how he was now. What an unbearable creature! Kaz felt the anger spread from his neck to his face, igniting his breath and squinting his eyes in annoyance.

Why was it so difficult for you to follow a simple goddamn rule?!

“Besides, your initial plan was flawed and there was no reason for me to be out when it was necessary inside and...” And you kept talking!

If you had noticed Kaz's completely enraged state in front of you, you would have been scared, shut up and ran. But, truth be told, Kaz suspected that even if you knew how to read the murderous humor in his eyes, you wouldn't have left that office. Much less be afraid. You could argue with the demon. And you would probably beat him out of tiredness.

However, regardless of the desire to shake you up, to see if that put any good sense in you, in that second, watching you gesture with your hands, defending your point of view as if it were the england queen's crown, something swept Kaz's body from the top of his head with dark hair to the tips of his illustrated boots.

The sound of the world was drowned out by the flow of blood itself in his veins. His heart hammered hard in his chest and, in that instant, a sharp sting in his groin and the pit of his stomach set him on fire.

His gaze went down to your mouth, which kept moving. And when it came up to your eyes, your stubborn and defiant gaze sent Kaz's rationality into space. He dropped the cane abruptly, which toppled to the floor with a hollow crack, and advanced towards you in firm and determined steps.

Gluing his gloved hands to your face, Kaz silenced all your protests with a strong kiss. Hot, fiery, domineering. The kind of kiss that held years of camouflaged desire, years of irritability, years of an unnerving desire to make you shut up with all the perverse forms that existed.

You weren't afraid of him. But you should. You should if you knew everything he wanted to do with you.

However, as if you have been burning in the same desire for years, you responded to that kiss with the same urgency. The same hunger. Kaz slipped his hands into your hair, closing his fingers there and deepening the kiss with ferocity. He felt beside himself, like a hungry wild animal that had been denied food for years and that only now had its teeth set on its prey. You moaned against his lips, bringing your hands to his lean, strong biceps, squeezing your fingers there.

You both needed air, but neither seemed to give a damn about that. Misted of desire that burned like a fire in their bodies, Kaz pushed the two of you backwards, slamming your back against the wall and swinging a frame beside. You gasped, and the gesture made it possible for Kaz to invade your mouth with his tongue, hunting every piece of hot meat. You two fought the same battle in that kiss: invade, dominate, conquer.

They both wanted to take the waltz, but Kaz would never let you conduct the show.

He pulled your wrists up, pinning them with one hand against the wall, leaving you immobile while sinking his mouth further into yours. Kaz felt you try to get rid of his tight grip, but he was stronger than you. And much more when he have a objective.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He murmured against your mouth, the tip of his tongue playing with your bottom lip. “You know I don’t like to be teased.”

Was impossible for you to control the loud moan that escaped. Your body trembling with desire, your legs wobbly, your wet core vibrating with his words. Kaz Brekker was a fallen angel. With a beauty and charm you've never been immune to.

How can you think you'd win the dominance game with him?

And, like the fallen angel he was, his smug and arrogant smile painted the corner of his lips when he saw what his lines did to you.

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive.” Kaz mocked “If I knew it was only necessary to do this for you to shut up...” he brought his lips closer, his voice hitting yours “I would have fucked you like the naughty brat you have been a long time.”

If his caustic and maddening kisses hadn't been enough to break you in half, that statement would have done all the work.

In that second, you hoisted your white flag, biting your lip in a needy moan and closing your eyes for a second by the overwhelming vibration of your core. God, you needed more. Whatever he gave you. Anything he wanted to give you. You just needed more.

"Are you going to be good?" He played with the dough you were in his hands, his devilish mouth going down your neck, leaving a trail of fire and debris wherever he went.

You agreed, desperately. “Yes, Sir."

That title seemed to do things with Kaz. Because in the next second, his mouth was back on your. More urgent, more needy, more dominating. You shifted your hips for more friction with his, and Kaz rewarded your obedience by pulling one of your thighs forward, making your skirt go up, aligning your thigh on his hips and giving access for his member to fit perfectly against your pulsating core.

You moaned louder this time. Fingers clenching, heart pumping frantically. Kaz pulled his lips away from you for a second, taking his hand off your thigh and bringing it to your mouth.

“Pull.” He ordered, referring to the glove.

You murmured a low, excited moan, bringing your mouth to the glove and clenching your teeth on the cloth at the top of his middle finger. Satisfied, Kaz pulled his hand back, watching the alabaster skin peel away from the leather fabric. As soon as he was free, he removed the glove from your mouth, replacing it with his own and stealing all your breath in that fiery kiss.

His free hand wandered over your thigh, touching you for the first time with a touch that promised to show you all the most delicious and secret sins in the world. His tongue wrapped around your again, and the moan you let out was even greater when his long fingers brushed against your wet, throbbing core.

"S-sir!" You sobbed, your hips rocking against his hand, desperate for more.

"Look at you." His fire voice beat against your lips, the tightness against your wrists getting stronger, more possessive "I’ ve only started using my fingers and you ’re already shaking"

Your body cried out in unbridled desire, sobs mingling with loud moans and heavy sighs as Kaz tormented you with his fingers. He touched you, slid, opened and sank, increasing the volume of your pleas.

“P-please" You begged, the body in need, the urge too urgent.

Kaz looked you in the eye, a dark, malicious gleam burning in his Egyptian blue irises. "Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" He teased you.

But you no longer cared about his teasing. With your lips swollen and red, your heart racing and the core pulsing in despair on his experienced fingers, you were already surrendered.

"Please. I n-need." You mumbled submissively, rummaging your hips in his hand.

"I bet if I wanted to fuck you against my desk, here and now, you would be very happy to do it, wouldn't you?"

He was foisting all of his dominance on you, bending you to your knees for him. And you knew that. You knew he was taking years of anger out on you. But you couldn't care less. You wanted him. Ardently. Desperately. And if it was a good girl Kaz wanted, damn it, you would be a good girl for him.

You readily agreed, your eyes shining in supplication.

“Good.” Kaz pulled you brutally off the wall, turning you over to the table and pushing your chest against the icy wood, pulling your hips at him. “Because that's exactly what is going to happen.”

Suddenly, desire and hunger roared like a wild beast. Kaz watched you, bent over his desk, obedient, surrendered, offering every inch of your body to him.

His breath was burning in his throat and it was no longer possible to order his thoughts, contain his euphoria. He would fuck you so hard that it would make that memory the only thought when you remembered him. When you dare to rebut his orders.

Kaz pulled you skirt up and your panties down, letting out a groan that sounded more like a growl as he saw your wet core. Pulsing and desperate for him. For anything he wanted to give you. It sparked a fervent desire that Brekker had never felt in his life, devastating any possibility of thinking about anything other than fucking you.

Playing with your fingers in your slick, wet folds, you whimpered again, the core pulsing whenever he teased you inside, pressing his fingertips there but never entering.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" His voice came over the top of your shoulder, hoarse, animalistic, full of profane desires.

"Please." You were quick to beg “I do what you want! But just...please, please… ”

You already felt your eyes watering from over-stimulation, your heart burning so hard it was beating, your core aching from emptiness.

You sealed the end of the game between you. Kaz had won. In a triumphant checkmate.

And you didn't have to beg again. Barely seeing when he unbuttoned his pants, you just reasoned his hard, hot, pulsating member by opening your from the inside. Claiming everything that was yours as his in a strong, desperate, hungry lunge.

"S-sir!" You screamed, your nails scraping the wood from the table, the core pulsing overwhelmingly around his rigid member.

In a more badly lunge, Kaz sank completely into you, moaning loudly as he hit rock bottom. The gloved hand slid over your shoulder, propelled you to him while the bare hand tightened on your waist, hitting you at a steady, raw, animalistic rhythm.

The sounds were pornographic, dirty and loud, echoing off the walls. The air was hot like molten lava, pungent and muffled, driving you two lost breath. Their bodies clashed as if the world was going to end tomorrow, in aggressive, rough thrusts. These were thrusts that made half of his things on the table fall to the floor, mixing in a mess that would serve as a reminder later about the sinful activities you two did.

You screamed when Kaz took on more force, his fingers squeezing you so hard that they would leave you with marks on your shoulder and waist the next day.

"Fucking hell!" Kaz snarled between his teeth, feeling your flesh throb around him, squeezing he with such desperation that he knew you were close.

You sobbed, tears streaming down the corners of your eyes as you pushed your ass towards him, trying to bring him as deep as possible, as deep inside you as possible. But every time his pelvis smashed into your ass, a loud moan and the feeling of being completely full drowned you.

You begged, pleaded, for something you didn't know. But Kaz seemed to know. Taking both hands to your hips, your pace became even more unperturbed, pushing you to the limit until you cum in a scream in his name, your lungs on fire. Kaz came close behind, sinking as deep as possible and pouring all the hot liquid into you. Almost like a brand.

The air was filled with sex, lust and desire, filled only by the sound of their ragged breaths that struggled to stabilize.

You were still panting when Kaz's voice came after you: "Whatever I want, don't I?"

A deal with the devil.

[oklcmc]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀،̲،̲⠀⠀⠀𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 [𝟏𝟖+]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀゛⠀You was livin’ off of Dru Hill wasn’t Ready for the World，but baby，who is？ Know you prettier than all the El⠀⠀⠀DeBarges never worry ‘bout the Total of the charges ❪I got this❫.⠀〟

word count：8，602

pairing：demetrius edward ゛⠀big meech⠀〟flenory，sr. ❪demetrius edward ゛⠀lil meech⠀〟flenory，jr.❫ ✕ black!female oc ❪cheryl renee ゛⠀salt⠀〟james，circa 1988❫

forewarning：this imagine will contain use of drugs and alcohol，strong language and sexual content. read at your discretion.

fun-size playlist：i. anderson .paak，snoop dogg ⅋ the last artful，dodgr - anywhere，ii. slick rick - hey young world，iii. the art of noise - moments in love，iv.  tyler，the creator，frank ocean ⅋ lætitia sadier - partyisntover╱campfire╱bimmer，v. lloyd - streetlove，vi. earth，wind ⅋ fire -  can’t hide love，vii. amerie - i just died，viii. iggy azalea - the last song，ix. rené ⅋ angela - my first love，x. minnie riperton - inside my love，xi. marvin gaye - i want you，xii. anita baker - been so long，xiii. silk sonic，bootsy collins - blast off. yes，this is sequenced!  ‹𝟹

author’s note：⠀⠀⠀‘’ ⠀⠀⠀I’m slightly ashamed to admit that I’ve been working tirelessly on this piece since late November of last year. I don’t necessarily love it，but maybe it’ll grow on me later y’all，I don’t know？I’m honestly sick of looking at it at this point in time，so I’ma let y’all finally have it. Song lyrics provided by none other than Iggy Azalea with minor alterations done. In order to prevent confusion on y’all’s end，I also wanted to state that I had switched Pepa’s government name for Salt’s being that I thought it’d be more suiting to her character. Happy readings!⠀⠀⠀‘’

Detroit，Michigan · Mid-November of 1988

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓

⠀⠀⠀𝓢andra James had been suspended in a cyclone of her own creative process all afternoon. The habitual grey cloud of over-analyzation had swept in and funneled into a mass consisting of a slew of instrumental cassette tapes and paper balls full of unfinished song lyrics or absentminded scribbles scattered throughout the sitting room area of her very own single-family home.

After much deliberation, Sandra has finally subjected herself to the severe case of writer’s block, hurling herself against the back cushions of her navy blue leather sofa alongside the throw pillows and crumpled scraps of paper that simultaneously began to alight the seat upon her arrival with an exasperated sigh.

Her stomach growled ravenous. It was then that Sandra had come to terms with her biggest mistake that evening, she hadn’t eaten in a matter of several hours, and what was a storming brain without the fuel of glucose? She immediately began to brainstorm on a quick solution to her problem, internally battling between take-out Thai food or Pizza Hut, that is until the tone of her pager dissipated her train of thought completely.

Swiftly pushing the foam headphones to her Sony brand Walkman towards the back of her neck, Sandra stretched her hand out towards the Motorola Bravo pager sitting out on the glass top coffee table before her before her eyes skimmed over the triple-digit code currently being displayed on it’s LCD.

911.

Not an emergency, but more so an urgency to return her best friend’s call.

Retrieving her solid Motorola DynaTAC cell phone from it’s place on the abstract rug of the sitting room, her natural manicure danced along the keypad, punching in a number she had memorized since being an adolescent.

“Yo?” Sandra greeted her friend of twenty-two years with little to no enthusiasm at all, knowing that nine times out of ten the information that she was preparing to spew wasn’t that crucial to begin with, but she was wrong, and she knew that once Slick Rick’s “Hey Young World” began to drown through the transmitter. RollerCade had to be poppin’ at this time of night.

“Bitch, what the fuck do you mean ‘Yo?’ You were suppose to be meeting me outside RollerCade an hour ago! What’s the hold up?” Her best friend shouted over the accompanying Hip-Hop track although her voice tended to carry that way often. Sanda stood corrected.

“My bad, Roxxane. I got wrapped up with penning rhymes, you know how it is. Who’s all there anyway?”

“Ohh, no one special. It’s just me, Martin, both Chris’... Oh, and that music producer you like. What’s his name again? Herbert? Herb?”

“Hurby’s there?!” Sandra exclaimed, nearly flying off the couch in search of her Nike Air Trainer SCs.

“Yup!”

“Like right now?!”

“Yeah. Maybe you can slip some of your tapes to him while he’s here. You know they be dope.” Roxxane persuaded, but mostly for her own sake of the opportunity to flap her gums.

“Say no more, I’m on my way!”

“Not in that busted ass Pontiac you ain’t!”

“Why you always dissin’ my whip, Roxxy? You know it gets me where I need to be.”

“Yeah, when it wants to. You know that shit be breakin’ down, girl. I don’t why you be puttin’ on. Makin’ all that dough as a sales lead at Saks and still can’t afford a new whip. It’s a wonder how you even get there on time the way that you do.”

“Whatever, you know I’ma always make somethin’ shake. You just keep that in mind the next time you ask for a lift. I’ll see you in twenty.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it. Peace!” Roxxane hadn’t given Sandra the opportunity of biding her farewell before ending the call.

Sandra could only shake her head at her best friend’s usual antics as she carelessly tossed the hefty cell phone onto the sofa before going to slip her dainty feet into her SCs with her solid 24k rope chain and bamboo earrings swinging from their places on her neck and earlobes from her movements alone. Next came her navy blue leather fringe jacket that coordinated all to well with the “Medicine Ball” colorway of her sneakers and layered over her solid white turtleneck and high-waisted paperbag style acid washed jeans. She was sure to secure her pager onto her waistline alongside her Walkman, stash her notepad full of rhymes and no. 2 pencil inside her Gucci monogram shoulder bag and grab her lanyard before splitting the front door.

Though the baluster to her front porch had progressively froze over throughout the day, it hadn’t one stopped Sandra from using it in assisting her down the steps and into the harsh -15° weather. Ice flurries almost immediately came whisking past her petite frame, causing her to cup her bare hands over her mouth and huff into them before rubbing them together vigorously in order to gain some sort of body heat back.

She was well aware in tonight’s clothing pieces being rather scanty, but she’d risk coming down with a common cold any given day if it meant looking fashionable while doing so and that’s how she’d always been, even as an disobedient adolescent.

She cautiously trudged over the pathway covered in black ice in order to reach the door of the chain-link fence, thankfully without slipping up on her ass. She yanked the fence’s door closed with slight aggression due to the 8.4″ of snow blocking it’s usual pathway before securely locking it and racing towards the driver’s side door of her Pontiac Phoenix where she would unlock it using it’s key before climbing inside and slamming it back shut behind her.

She repeated the same three-step routine she once did outside the parked vehicle in order to keep warm before her trembling hands could even locate the ignition. Absentmindedly turning the key until it aligned with the start point in the ignition switch, Sandra could feel her heart palpitate as the dreadful sound of the engine stalling came to her dismay.

“Nooo!” She muttered between clenched teeth, her numbing fingers gripping the steering wheel in apprehension until her knuckles practically turned white. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” She coaxed the vehicle, finally witnessing the water vapor pour from her crimson painted lips as she slowly bought the key back to it’s lock point before swiftly bringing it to it’s start point again with the same result. Then again. “Fuck!” She bellowed in frustration, banging her closed fists against the steering wheel before sitting back with a heavy sigh of defeat. She had been jinxed.

She sat there for a stalling moment in contemplation of going back outside in the cold before snatching the key from the ignition, pulling the inner door handle and proceeding to do it anyway. She’d forgotten her quads anyhow. She retraced her every step up until she was standing in the middle of her sitting room yet again with her cell phone pressed against her ear after hitting redial.

“What’s up?” Roxanne answered the phone in such a jubilant manner over the party music that it pissed Sandra off. It pained her that her best friend was having the time of her life without her company.

“Bitch, you jinxed me!” Sandra exclaimed, falling back on her leather recliner with her head in her hand.

“How so? Wait, wait, wait, don’t tell me that, that busted ass Pontiac gave out again? I told your hardheaded ass to let that car go months ago.”

“Whatever, Roxxy. All I need is a quick jump and I’ll be there. You know anybody?”

“Shit, it needs more than that. Your neighbors can’t give you one?” Sandra picked her head up, staring straight into the imaginary camera of life with a stale expression.

“No. You know damn well Mr. Boyd works overnight and Mrs. Green got glaucoma! Why do you think I’m asking you?!”

“Damn, my bad then. What about a taxi?”

“Roxxane, please!”

“Okay! Um, let me think. There is this one man my pops works with at the Cadillac factory, Mr. Charles Flenory. He’s always fixin’ shit for other people, especially that conniving Pastor Swift, so I don’t see why he couldn’t help you out with your situation? Plus him and his family live in Ecorse, that’s closer to where you stay. Just be wary of his sons if they were to pick up, heard bad news about ‘em.”

“Ahh, but I thought you liked trouble?”

“Sometimes. but this ain’t about me right now. Take this number down...”

Once jotting the number Roxxane had given her down on the flesh of the thenar muscle of her left hand and properly bidding her best friend farewell a second time around, Sandra hadn’t wasted a stalling moment on boldly punching the unfamiliar number into her cell phone because she knew if she hadn’t pushed herself to do so, she would’ve been sitting there all night having psychological debates with her own form of anxiety.

The dark cyan corded telephone which was mounted to the floral patterned kitchen walls of the Flenory’s residence had simultaneously began to ring as the eldest child, Demetrius Edward Flenory otherwise known as “Big Meech” or simply “Meech” had discovered a new route into the same overfamiliar property he had been banished from merely weeks ago.

Placing the same exact wad of cash he attempted to grant his father the last time he had seen him beside the glass of tap water he had once sipped from on the kitchen counter, Demetrius raced his way over to the telephone with much attitude, snatching it off the hook before it could ring a second time and blow his whole cover, wondering who could be callin’ the house this time of night.

“Yo?!” His baritone range intimidatingly huffed through the transmitter, serenading Sandra’s eardrums and causing her legs pry shut on instant.

She couldn’t quite understand why her body reacted this way, but she quickly thought of a plan to redeem herself, putting on her best saleswoman voice which was something she was highly experienced at when dealing with all the upper class privileged folks at her day job. If she fucked this up, she was definitely in for the night. No RollerCade.

“Um, y-yes. Hi. I apologize for calling at such an inconvenient time like this, but I was wondering would it possible for me to speak with a Mr. Charles Flenory?” She forcefully grinned as if this stranger on the opposite end of the call could actually see her, double-checking the name written out on her left hand to ensure it’s accuracy.

Demetrius’ initial impression was that the woman speaking sounded fairly young, likely around him and Terry’s age group, if anything. He was oddly banking on her being a possible lead in the demise of his father. A plausible fling would finally put his plan of revenge into execution.

“He’s out right now,” Demetrius lied straight through his teeth, fully aware that his father was upstairs resting alongside his mother. “Who’s speaking?”

Sandra could feel her heart sink in disappointment, knowing she wouldn’t be apart of the RollerCade festivities tonight.

“My name’s Sandra, Sandra James, but everyone calls me Sandy.”

“With a name like that, you’ve got to be a bill collector.” Demetrius was seconds away from slamming the phone down on the hook until she began to reason with him.

“Oh, of course not! A-Actually my friend recommended me this number on a whim. I’m trying to get a jump for my car.”

“Mmcht!” Demetrius kissed his teeth, flicking his 18k Yellow Gold Patek Philippe brand wristwatch in a nonchalant manner. “That’s all? That’s slight work. I can do that for you. Where you stay at?”

“You can?!” Sandra perked up at his offer, but quickly came down on account of what Roxxane had stated in their last phone conversation. By now she had it figured out that she had to have been speaking with one of Charles’ sons which meant no inconveniences. “I mean... I stay on Garland Street. It’s going to be the house with the beige Pontiac parked in front of it.” She stated coolly, nodding her head.

“I know where that’s at. I can make it there in twenty.”

“Thank you so much! I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for this!”

“No sweat. I’m Demetrius by the way, but everyone calls me Meech. I’m Charles’ eldest son.”

“Nice to meet you, Meech. I guess I’ll be seeing you soon?”

“For sure.”

“Thank you again!” Sandra ended the call with the phone pressed against her beaming lips.

She had so much optimism in a person she hadn’t been acquainted with over ten minutes ago. So much for that nuisance Roxxane spoke of.

Roxxane’s sentiments on the Flenor boys turned out to be indeed accurate or at least that’s what Sandra had assumed as she paced behind her security door with a pair of jumper cables in hand. She had been in that same position for the past thirty minutes and counting, anticipating Demetrius’ arrival. She was about ready to throw in the towel until witnessing a scarlet red 1988 model BMW E30 M3 accelerate down her block and park directly in the middle of the street as if they owned it.

She could make out the garbled instrumental of The Art Of Noise’s “Moments In Love” blaring from the custom sound system of their vehicle as she gawked at it, curious to know the occupant who sat behind those tinted windows. By the gold rim detail, she could almost guess a drug dealer of some sorts since that’s all whoever owned them in Motor City nowadays anyhow, but who was she to make assumptions this early on? All she did know was that the vehicle put her Pontiac to shame! She was almost embarrassed by it.

The German owned vehicle was indeed fascinating to Sandra, obviously, just not as fascinating as the driver making an exit from it. This was evident in her sudden symptoms of cotton mouth and piercing dark brown irises as they followed the stranger from the running vehicle to the door of her front gate.

Proximate in Sandra’s complexion if not darker, he stood at a solid 5′8″ in his navy blue colorway Adidas brand Campus 80s sneakers, jet black vinyl parachute trousers, navy blue satin button-up and black mid-length mink fur jacket. By the yellow polarized Cazal brand sunglasses sitting upon his nose, the hefty rope chains looping through an custom M initial and 50 Boyz gold plated pendant and his rattail, Sandra knew she stood correct on his occupation.

That hadn’t once stopped her from tucking the jumper cables beneath her arm as she aggressively scavenged her shoulder bag for her favorite tube of Chanel Rouge lipstick. She swiftly stepped aside in order to touch-up her lipstick in the entryway mirror, smearing a second coat over the dull first coat before tracing her pinky finger around the corners of her full lips to correct any imperfections, tightly rubbing them together and releasing them with a dramatic pop.

She aggressively fluffed and tugged at the loose curls of her honey blonde and chestnut pixie haircut with an exasperated sigh. All she could dwell on in that moment was her regret for not treating them with mousse, oil sheen nor oil itself earlier in the day.

Her train of thought was once again dissipated by three light taps against her security door.

Showtime! She thought, stepping into his view.

“Hi,” Sandra greeted, feeling her heart palpitate while bearing witness to all the features which made him attractive up-close. He could say the same about her. “Meech, is it?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Demetrius chuckled nervously, his clammy hands remained resting in the pockets of his mink because there was just no way in hell a woman, of all people was making him sweat. “You must be Sandy?”

“Of course! I’m so glad you were able to find me in this weather,” She quickly unlocked the security door, watching him carefully step back as she slowly pushed it open before leaning against the frame. “Would you like to come in?”

“Actually I have somewhere to be, so if we could just...” Demetrius whirled his index finger in midair with an animated whistle, the Patek Philippe now visibly glinting on his wrist as he hoped to expedite the process, but Sandra was on to his apprehension.

“You just passed it,” She smirked, nudging her head in the direction of where her vehicle was parked at, causing him to look between the two of them. “My car, I mean.”

“You mean to tell me that, that Pontiac is yours?” He squinted his eyes in disbelief.

“Well everybody’s not as flashy as you, Demetrius. Is there a problem?” She questioned defensively.

“Nah,” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Mind if I have a look at it?”

“Feel free!” She exclaimed, handing over her keys with no hesitation in which he happily accepted before proceeding to jog back down the flight of porch steps with her, the jumper cables and a flashlight in tow.

The last very last thing that Sandra wanted to do was make a nuisance of herself while being in his presence, but she’d much rather save him the trip back to her doorstep and herself the embarrassment since she evidently had an idea of what would be said. She had heard it all before.

Sandra stood at his side, aiming her flashlight directing under the hood once he went to prop it open using the support of the strut rod.

“Damn, girl,” Demetrius grunted, batting his full lashes in disbelief at what he was actually viewing as both his hands gripped the perimeter of the open hood. “I ain’t no mechanic or nothin’, but your spark plugs fucked up!”

“Are they really?” Sandra grimaced between clenched teeth, feeling her heart palpitate as she looked between him and the engine of the vehicle as if she could actually identify the problem.

“Hell yeah,” He responded, carefully letting the hood of the vehicle back down. “When’s the last time you had someone look at this?”

“Oh, I-I don’t know really?” Her hands gripped the flashlight with apprehension.

“Well I’m not trying to tell you what to do or whatever, but you better off leaving this shit alone the remainder of the night and comin’ to ride with me in my bimmer.” He stated, briefly brushing his hands off as if that would really rid the oil that stained them.

“Oh, no,” Sandra shook her head, tucking the flashlight beneath her arm along with the jumper cables after powering it off before pulling a pack of multi-surface wipes from her shoulder bag. She held out her hand for his in which he hadn’t hesitated on offering to her before she got down to business, scrubbing vigorously until every stain had been lifted from her sight. “As I was saying before, you’ve done enough for me already. I’ll be okay staying in for the night.”

“Yeah, well I insist,” Demetrius grinned, tucking his numb hands in the pockets of his mink after inspecting them front to back. “Go put up your mechanic shit and grab whatever else it is that you need. I’ll be out here waiting when you get back.”

“Well... If you insist...” Sandra dragged, treading back towards the open fence of her home once again. “It’ll only take a second!” She exclaimed, quickly plodding through the snow in order to reach her doorstep.

She split the security door, stomping the soles of her SCs against the entrance rug to rid the excess snow before gravitating towards the spandrel to exchange the jumper cables and flashlight for her solid white quads. After powering off all the appliances on the first level of her home and locking up, Sandra was climbing into the heated passenger seat of Demetrius’ M3 where Earth, Wind & Fire’s “Can’t Hide Love” played at a low volume and the pungent smell of marijuana and a vanilla scented Feu Orange brand air freshener enthralled her upon her entrance more than the butter interior.

Demetrius had just finished wrapping up an seemingly important conversation on the car’s custom telephone when he decided to finally place his focus on Sandra who was in the midst of placing her quads on the floor in front of her.

“Yo, you mind if I made a pit stop ‘round my way before I drop you off?” Demetrius asked, licking over his thin lips with his right hand gripping onto the gearshift and the other remaining resting on the steering wheel as his low eyes glanced in her direction.

“Sure.” She twitched a smile at him once they locked eyes to ensure her confirmation while adjusting the Cartier Love bracelet secured around her wrist and going to pull on her seatbelt.

“Coo’.” He responded, turning up the volume on his stereo before peeling off into the crisp night.

Fuck a Hurby at this point. Sandra was equally as happy being in the presence of Demetrius.

Demetrius Flenory discreetly pulled his BMW E30 M3 on the side of the overfamiliar GLS plant at a quarter past ten o’clock, a refuge in which him, as well as those apart of his mob used to sling drugs.

Without stalling the engine of his vehicle by recollecting that in fact, there was another occupant besides himself, he instead reached for the buckle of his seat belt, pressing the pad of his thumb into it’s release button before glancing down at his wristwatch for the time.

10：17 PM.

There was only a measly window of time before RollerCade were to shut down for the night, but he hadn’t thought she cared much anymore seeing how she had her face seemingly pressed into her notepad since they were halfway there. If all else failed, he didn’t mind taking her back home. He actually enjoyed the company for once.

“This should only take me a minute.” He stated, watching her aggressively press the led of her pencil into the acid-free sheet of paper within her notepad, from stanza to stanza.

“Yeah, sure.” She responded apathetically— Subconsciously, he was sure— not even bothering to meet his gaze.

“You hungry?”

Of course Demetrius felt a little empathetic of her situation. He took longer than usual arriving to her only to drag her there instead of where she actually wanted to be. Feeding her was the least that he could.

“I could eat.” Sandra played it coy with a simple shrug of her shoulders although the repetitive rumbling in her stomach— In which only she could hear over his preference of R&B— Came as a friendly reminder that she still hadn’t eaten since midday.

“Aight, coo’,” He nodded his head, pulling the inner door handle in order to step outside of the vehicle. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time.” Sandra smiled faintly, anticipating the second his door closed to lower the volume on his stereo so that she could actually hear herself think.

It was as if a burst of inspiration had hit her not even halfway through the ride and she couldn’t help but to take advantage of the situation, even if it all had hailed from Demetrius himself.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀゛⠀Damn，well... ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Without meaning to seems I ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Think I met someone ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀But he ain’t really my type，shit ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀He only 21 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀His fingers do the talkin’ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Where he’s from，will be his coffin ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Every time this nigga drive me ‘round，think I might go down on arson，but...⠀〟

Sandra had only met Demetrius’ acquaintance well over three hours ago and had already begun to familiarize herself with his horrendous habit of time management. One thing she could applaud him on though was keeping his word.

He returned to the idle vehicle forty minutes after the hour with a kraft paper bag stained in grease and a joint rolled with Zig-Zag brand paper. The presentation of it was less than satisfactory in her opinion, but it was the aroma that really made her curious enough to want a taste. Who was she kidding? Hell, she was so hungry in that moment, in fact, she would’ve eaten a horse if he offered it to her.

“I got your food!” He announced, practically gleaming as he handed over the bag of raucous.

“Yeah, forty minutes later,” She scoffed, although politely accepting of it, welcoming it into her lap. “Thank you.” She expressed bashfully, unfolding the bag to spot a plastic hinged food container loaded with a chicken quesadilla, seasoned shoestring fries and Heinz brand ketchup packets.

“I got tied up in some business, my apologies. At least it’s still fresh.” He finally had the opportunity of sparking his joint, glancing over at her spreading light amounts of ketchup over the pile of fries before gracefully going to feed her appetite. “You always eat like that?” He couldn’t resist asking as clouds of smoke poured from his lips.

“Like what?” She inquired with her fist covering her mouth as she silently chewed on her food.

“Like a damn bird.” He chucked, casually taking another hit from his joint.

“I guess you could say that?” She shrugged, having no right or wrong answer to his question as she proceeded to feed her face.

“What about skating? You do that shit often?” He asked, and for a split second made Sandra realize where she was actually intending to be at this time of night besides caught up on his aura.

“Outside of bustin’ my ass at Saks and writing rhymes, yes.”

“Ohh, so that’s what this is about?” Demetrius playfully snatched up the open notepad that had absentmindedly slipped into the console when she went to reach for her meal earlier. Sandra could’ve sworn she felt her heart stop beating when he began to recite the lyrics written about him.

“No, please don’t—” She began to plead with him, outstretching her hand for what was rightfully hers, but she had came a second too late.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀゛⠀We haven’t even kissed yet ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀But that just makes me want him more ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Plus he love his momma，yep ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀He a family man ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀And even though the ratchets love him ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I still think he a gentleman，”

Sandra wasn’t afraid to admit to her own lyrics being subpar, hell, a satire of their initial acquaintance if anything, but it was the delivery of the nursery rhyme that made her embarrassed of it and that told Demetrious everything that he needed to know. This was evidently about him.

The way her cheeks flushed crimson before it came down to her trying her luck again further proved that. She slowly extended her hand out for the notepad that he had clenched within his left just outside the window when their lips coincidentally locked before execution.

The amateur kiss had really only lasted a few seconds, but seemed like forever in Sandra’s apprehension as she was the first to pull back and adjust herself correctly in the passenger seat once regaining possession of her notepad. There was a tingling sensation left lingering on her full lips as she was finally able to distinguish his preferred strain of Sour Diesal.

He had her right where he wanted her, flustered and flirting with the idea of going in for more.

“I-I’m sorry.” Sandra bashfully apologized with her head in her lap as she twiddled her thumbs though she wasn’t all at fault.

“N-Nah, you good,” Demetrius casually pinched the bridge of his nose while shaking his head in embarrassment before his hand found the gearshift again. “Don’t even trip on that. That was on me. I initiated it.”

“Wait, Demetrius...” She readjusted herself in the passenger seat, her leg pulled within it so that she was facing towards him before reaching for the key in the ignition switch and turning it until it aligned with the “ACC” point where “My First Love” by René & Angela could still be heard playing at a low volume on the stereo. “I’d be lying to myself if I said that I wasn’t feelin’ you as much as I said I was in my rhymes. I’m just... Scared? Scared of what you’ll think of me after tonight if I actually fell through with this. If I’m being honest here, I ain’t never did no shit like this before.” She snorted in amusement at the words that escaped her lips not even a minute ago as she raked her fingers through the loose curls of her pixie, her head remaining within her lap.

“You don’t ever have to worry ‘bout no shit like that happenin’ with me, ‘cause I ain’t the one to kiss and tell, baby,” His relatively large hand went from clutching the gearshift to caressing her beaming cheeks, causing her to finally gaze at him. “I’ll be as slow and gentle as you want me to be.”

“Promise?” She questioned in a whisper, finding herself already falling into his trap when she kicked her sneakers and peeled her jacket off before straddling his lap.

“I promise, momma. I promise.” He smirked, his hand going from caressing her cheek to snaking around the nape of her neck, bringing her into a open-mouthed kiss far more passionate than the first.

His lips engulfed hers, swallowing what was left in the traces of her favorite lipstick shade of Rouge by Chanel until they were completely bare and past the point of swollen from his alone. She was slightly inept in her approaches, but caught on to his actions rather vastly. If his head were tilting to the right then hers was tilting to the left, if his fingers were gripping her neck then chances are that hers was tracing throughout his scalp until reaching his rattail and if his tongue were exploring every crevice of her mouth than so was hers.

Their kiss had broken in infectious laughter when Demetrius unexpectedly decided to recline the seat back even further using the adjustment handle to the left of them, puling away from her lips prematurely.

Sandra took this time of separation to gather the hem of her turtleneck within her hands before peeling it off, her solid rope chain falling back in position between the valley of her C-cup breasts. Next would come her acid washed, leaving her in nothing but a satin red triangle bra, a matching high-cut thong and her slouch socks.

Demetrius couldn’t help but to admire her in that position of vulnerability, his seemingly perfect top alignment of teeth closing in over his bottom lip as his frigid hands went from teasingly caressing her bare thighs to squeezing at her dainty waist, her stomach flexing and goosebumps surfacing her flesh at his touch almost immediately.

He sat upright just as his hands found the clasp of her bra, skillfully unhooking it before watching the thick straps cascade down her arms. His mouth watered at the sight of her nipples, brown and taut from the air that was hitting them. As much as he craved the need to want to suckle on her, he instead chose to take the slow route as that was what he promised to her.

His hands cupped her diamond-shaped face, slightly tilting it at an angle where he could access her collarbone easily. She grabbed at his wrists in preparation as his lips pecked at the sensitive area before sucking feverishly on it and even daring to sink his teeth into it, leaving blots of purple and red behind. Subconsciously marking his territory. His lips trailed further down to the valley of her breasts as his hands fell to the small of her back.

Growing impatient with his teasing, Sandra tugged her fingers through Demetrius’ kinky fro while deeply arching her back against the steering wheel so that her perky breasts were right within his reach.

Demetrius really couldn’t help but to chuckle at her desperation as his tongue encircled her areola before welcoming her whole nipple into his mouth. Wanting to leave no breast unattended, a free hand crept up to toy with the opposite while the other caressed her lower back. He alternated these actions often, his almond eyes never leaving hers as he witnessed her jaw slack and her eyebrows crease in immense pleasure.

“Oh my— Shit!” Sandra found it extremely difficult to hold eye contact with him now as her head flew back. The seat of her panties became saturated in her own wake as she rode out her own subtle orgasm right in the comfort of his lap.

Demetrius was barely touching the young woman and she was already cum’n for him. Words Sandra never even assumed would leave her mouth were now flying freely. He bought out the best in her if he did say so himself.

His wet lips found hers again, his arms snaking around her trembling waist before impulsively going to switch out their positions in the seat. Now she lie beneath him, admiring his features as he overshadowed her with the same thought in mind.

Minnie Riperton’s “Inside My Love” couldn’t have chosen a better time to be a symbolic representation of someone else’s union up until the very moment it played at a low volume on the stereo.

“You sure you wanna follow through with this, momma?.” Demetrius asked, stripping out his mink jacket, satin button-up and vinyl trousers, each article of clothing carelessly being hurled into the passenger seat along with the rest of hers once discarded. “It’s not as easy as it seems.”

The tent in his boxer briefs was as evident as ever now, putting Sandra’s mind in a nervous frenzy. He wanted this, but he wanted to be sure that she did too.

Sandra nodded her head vigorously to his question, her hands covering her now sensitive breasts, but that evidently weren’t enough consent for Demetrius. 

“No, I want to hear you say it.”

“Y-Yes,” She whimpered out in desperation, bringing herself up on her elbows where their lips met again. “Yes, daddy, I’m sure.”

Demetrius thought he’d lose all composure to the woman lying beneath him in that very moment, but he persevered.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” He mumbled against her lips as her cheeks radiated at his compliment for the umpteenth time that night. “Okay, momma, I need for you to listen carefully to what I’m about to ask of you,” Sandra could only nod her head in agreement. “Lay back down in this seat and spread your legs for daddy.”

With his eyes not once parting from hers, Demetrius watched as she went to recline back in the driver’s seat before her knees slightly parted. She was definitely testing his patience.

“Wider.” He ordered, voice low and authoritative as his jaw clenched.

Her legs spread the slightest as she nibbled into the corner of her lips.

“C’mon, momma,” He spanked rather roughly at her thigh, causing her to whine at the stinging mark his personalized 3-finger ring left behind. He wouldn’t have to handle her so roughly if she had been doing what he had asked of her. “Open ‘em wider so that I can see that pretty ass pussy.” He coerced, witnessing her legs fall in completely opposite directions at his command. “Yeah that’s it.”

Though he could sense her body cowering beneath his gaze due to her own insecurities, Demetrius really couldn’t help but to admire the way the thin fabric of her thong was being devoured and drowned in the arousal of her fleshy pussy.

“So fuckin’ wet...” He whispered his praise in a rich baritone, desperately wanting to play in it.

The pad of his thumb pressed directly into the area of fabric that covered her clit with much pressure, swiping to and fro as if he was working a joystick of some sort.

“Ahhh...” Sandra hissed lowly at the feeling she assumed only her fingers were capable of causing.

The way her body spasmed beneath his touch told him that he was doing something right. Her dainty hands encased his wrist as her legs pry shut in order to still his movements, even only for a stalling second, but to no avail.

“Aht, aht,” He expressed as if she were a child, tapping at her thigh yet again. “I said open ‘em.” He witnessed pleasure wash over her expression, her knees splitting the very moment she felt herself slick from the pressure of his fingers. “Good girl.”

He hooked his index finger through the seat of her panties, yanking the damp fabric aside just in the nick of time to witness the opaque cream seep from it’s opening. He impulsively went to thrust his middle finger inside her in a beckoning fashion in order to get her warmed up for the substantial course of action. His free hand going to pull his solid piece from the restraint of his briefs. He tasked between working her up and lubricating his shaft in his own saliva and precum.

“D-Daddy, aren’t we suppose to be using protection?” She stammered, feeling herself about to leak in his seat.

“I gotchu, momma. Trust me.” He persuaded, edging her orgasm by only a second when slipping his fingers from her before proceeding to bridge over her with a reassuring peck to her supple lips. “You just focus on relaxing.”

She nodded, her hands and legs impulsively falling into place on his lower back and waist. She submitted herself to him completely. It was his for the taking.

His hand remained fisting the base of his dick the moment he decided to push the head in. His thumb tracing her clit in order to alleviate some of the pain that she were in. Still her sweet gasps unified with that of Marvin Gaye’s “I Want You,” pussy clenching around him just the same way her thighs were at his waistline in attempt to stop what was coming as the roots of her natural nail beds aggressively raked into his shoulder blades.

“Open up for me, momma.” He groaned against her jawline, lingering wet kisses there as he pulled back from her tacky heat for only a split second before sinking back inside, bearing more inches than with the first.

It took a minute but her legs eventually fell open like he had asked, feet falling into the grips of the steering wheel like stirrups as her toes flexed at his penetration.

“Ow, Meechie!” She mewled, eyes screwed shut as tears clouded the vision she once had of him on top of her.

“I know, momma. I know,” He kissed away any stray tears that once stained her face. “Just a little more.” 

Demetrius could feel his self-restraint regressing as his motion against her clit increased. He pulled back to his tip once more before plunging back inside her. Far more vigorous than the first, he finally felt himself break past her hymen. Even through a pulsating ache, her walls still welcomed him with a tight hug as they accommodated to his girth. They had sealed the deal. They were finally in sync with one another.

“Oh, shit!” Demetrius subconsciously groaned, face flushing febrile and jaw clenching at the traces of her juices and crimson ichor coating his shaft when he went to pull back.

“So much pressure.” She cried out, fingers marking up his rear window and legs flailing, but this had only given him more leverage.

His hands smoothed up the back of her thighs until her knees were touching her breasts. He made it his mission to reach her soul as he began slamming almost entirely all his body weight onto her. Though still in park, the car still moved at his actions, causing her mouth to fall open with no sound and her eyes to roll back until they were damn near white.

“Ain’t no angel no more now, hm?” He smirked condescendingly, biting into his bottom lip as he listened to her pussy talking back to him over his chains. “This my pussy, baby? Tell me that it’s all mine.”

“This your pussy, daddy,” She drawled, eye twitching the slightest at his pace as her nails pierced into his waist with the shattering thought of there being nowhere to run. “All yours! Uhn, Meech—”

“You cum’n for me, baby?”

“Yeah!” She squeaked, spots now clouding her vision as she finally sprayed against him.

Demetrius had scarcely given the young woman time to recover from her first real orgasm as he effortlessly tore the thong from her fragile body before flipping her onto her side. He hoisted her ass up, pussy spreading, just to see what he was working with as he pummeled back inside her snug cover without warning. His thrusts were deep and fleeting, continuously knocking at her spot.

“Oooh-a!” Her voice trembled, once hand kneading the flesh of her breasts as the other pressed against his abdomen. His eyes boring into hers.

Their rendezvous set them back. Any prior thought of them having places to go and people to meet was nonexistent up until the distinct chime of either of their pagers reeled them back in, Demetrius’ more than likely. Foolishly enough, Sandra still went reaching into the passenger’s seat only to have her arm snatched back and pinned against her chest, their fingers interlocking.

“Don’t move,” He slapped her ass aggressively, pressing his forehead against hers. “Don’t you fucking move. I wanna feel all this pussy.”

“Okay, okay, okay, Demetrius! Fuuuck!” He had sent her into another blinding orgasm just that quick. “What are you—” She gasped.

With what little space they did have, Demetrius had still managed to slink her lower half up to his mouth before his lips closed in over her aching clit. Normally, he wasn’t a fan of performing oral on women, especially not on a first encounter such as this one, but he made an exception for Sandra, wanting her first time to be memorable. Something she could finally gloat to her friends about.

“I just came, daddy! Please!” She begged to rest although her own body betrayed her when her ankles locked around his neck and her nails went digging into his scalp, pulling him in even closer.

“One more.” He groaned against her sex, knowing damn well he would be asking her for another round before their night ended.

He held her up by her waist, sinking his index and middle finger inside her entrance before his tongue rolled against her swollen bud again. Between him salivating against her clit and the gushing sound her body produced each and every time he went to pump his fingers inside of her, she didn’t know which one bought her to a climax faster.

“Uhhhn!” A guttural moan escaped her larynx as an overfamiliar feeling washed over her. She pushed at his forearm for release. ”Let go!”

Sinking back down into the driver’s seat, her hands cupped over her convulsing pussy as she curled up into a fetal position. She was winded and in tears over this one.

“You aight, momma?” Her body flinched at his touch as he rubbed her ass in order to calm her. She could only simply nod her head to his question as he gripped her chin, bringing her in for a small kiss. One that she could still taste herself with. “All fours.” He ordered in a gruff, lightly tapping at her ass.

Sandra sniffed, swiping beneath her nose before turning onto her stomach in the seat and bringing herself up on her hands and knees.

“Arch ya back, momma.” His hands pressed at the center of her spine, causing her head to lazily fall forward onto the rest as her hips spanned against him.

“Like this, daddy?” She seductively asked while wiggling her ass from side to side.

“Exactly like that.” His hand came cracking down on her ass once more, causing her to cry out before he was palming his stiff dick again and sinking back inside her warmth. Right where he belonged.

Her breath was shallow, toes flexing against the thick fabric of her socks as she took him to the hilt. His hands remained placed at her hips as he fed her pussy long strokes. Her ass clapped against his V-cut, his heavy sac slapping against her clit as he gained momentum. He’d occasionally slip out due to how wet she really was, but he’d dive right back in, carrying that same rhythm.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah...” Her moans imitated the cadence of his thrusts each and every time their hips would meet, putting him in a trance.

The windows were fogging at this point, the air around them becoming thick in their sex as their moans were loud enough to even drown out Anita Baker’s scatting over the stereo.

“Ohhh! Fuck me, Demetrius!” She moaned between clenched teeth, catching him off guard when she went to reach back for his chains.

“Shit, Sandy,” This groan came spontaneously as his body caved at the feeling of her walls contracting around his dick with a vice grip. He hadn’t expected her to catch on so fast and start throwing it back, hell, neither had she, but she wanted his nut just as bad as he had been chasing it. “Chill, chill chill!” He exclaimed, trying to restrain himself from doing something impulsive, but she hadn’t. Not even for a second.

His hands snaked around the front of neck, yanking her upright into his chest where his breath fanned over her ear and his thrusts began to dominate hers. If she even thought that she could fuck him into oblivion before he could do the same to her, she was sadly mistaken.

“Yeah, what was all that shit that you was talkin’ now? Must’ve forgotten who’s daddy ‘round here, huh? That’s okay, I’m here to remind you, baby girl.” His pounding hadn’t slacked. His fingers pressed into her neck furthermore as his lips pressed into her ear, making her dizzy. Sandra loved how vocal he was with her just the same way he loved to feel her get her rocks off by his stamina.

“I’m cum’n, I’m cum’n, I’m cum’n!” She squealed, her nails diggin’ into his hips as her eyes rolled back.

“Shit, me too, momma.” He groaned, his dick twitching inside her the second she seized against him while her cream slid off on his shaft.

With his hand remaining clasped around her neck, he pulled from her and immediately went to jerking his dick until spurts cum landed on her plump ass, lower back and his lower stomach. The sight was most rewarding.

He released her from his hold, her body falling into the chair once more as she struggled to keep her eyes open. The duo scarcely had time to collect themselves as there was a light tap against the driver’s side window.

The unwanted company was just a boy. Brown in complexion and unbelievably lanky in height and weight, an estimated 5′9″ at most if you had let Sandra tell it. He sported a hi-top fade, leather jacket and an overfamiliar 50 Boyz pendant identical to Demetrius’ which told her this wasn’t a stranger after all. He was an ally.

“Yo, Meech? You in there? Open up.” His knuckles impatiently drummed against the window again. He took a swift pull from his joint before attempting to peer past Demetrius’ tints.

“Shit!” Demetrius’ whispered, reaching for the glove compartment in a panic as Sandra went reaching for all the straps of clothing belonging to her that were thankfully still intact in the passenger seat.

Kraft paper napkins fell out onto the car floor where Sandra’s handbag and quads rested. Demetrius had still managed to catch a few, quickly going to wipe his jizz from his body as well as hers. She climbed into the backseat to pull on her clothes while Demetrius readjusted his seat, only bothering to toss on his briefs and button-up since there was only so much time to spare before the boy had gotten anymore suspicious than what he already was and called a whole SWAT team on his whereabouts. They didn’t need anymore intrusions as this was already embarrassing enough.

Demetrius cracked his window enough to where the boy could see his eyes.

“Yo? What’s up, B-Mickie?” Demetrius greeted his fellow caporegime.

“What’s up with me? Nigga, what’s up with you? I’ve been paging you since eleven. Here it is damn near going on one. Kato said she seen ya whip parked ‘round here, so I had to come check in.”

Demetrius had to catch himself from spazzing at the mention of Kato for B-Mickie’s sake. He understood his developing crush on the woman, but he had only hopes he was being wary of the company he kept. Her energy had been way off putting as of lately.

“So I guess you and Kato must be my parents now, huh?” Demetrius asked, his overfamiliar sarcasm finally leaking through.

B-Mickie could only kiss his teeth, taking another drag from his joint since it were the only thing keeping him warm then.

“Ain’t nobody even say all that, man. We were just concerned about you, that’s all.”

“Well you two should be more “concerned” about dishing out those rocks next time rather than me resting.”

“Resting?” B-Mickie chuckled at his audacity, flicking the ashes of his joint onto the pavement. “Yeah, okay, Meech. You got it.”

“Nigga, what’s so funny?”

“Nothin’, except the skates with pink wheels and Gucci bag in the floor of your passenger seat really add a nice touch to the finish.” Sandra’s fingers grew immobile against the fly of her jeans as she looked to Demetrius for an excuse of some sort, but he choked. B-Mickie was definitely on to them by now. “But before you lie about them being Nicole’s, I got a pretty good angle of the rearview from here. Great choice. She from ‘round here?”

“Get the fuck—” Demetrius was seconds away from stepping outside the vehicle until it registered that he was only clad in a top and undergarments. Maybe next time.

“Don’t answer that,” B-Mickie winked. “I’ll see you later, Meech. Goodnight, beautiful.” His palm came down on the roof of Demetrius’ bimmer a few times before he casually walked away.

Demetrius’ head fell back against the rest with an sigh of defeat just as Sandra had climbed her way back into the passenger seat with a sly smile tugging at her bare lips.

“Damn, girl,” Demetrius grinned sheepishly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You done got me caught up.” He could only hope that word hadn’t spread amongst those apart of his mob by now, but he knew B-Mickie’s intentions were nothing short of lighthearted. He had faith in him. He was loyal.

“No, you got yourself caught up when you decided to fuck me the way that you did,” Sandra stated, reapplying her lipstick in the mirror of the sun visor though it really did nothing in restoring her once kempt appearance. “Now come on and run me back home before more of your henchmen spin the block with a target on my back.”

“So I guess this is the part where I become grab-and-go dick for whenever you’re feeling spontaneous?” He questioned, aggressively pulling his trousers up around his waistline.

“Let’s just see how things pan out on the rug of my living room before I make that decision.” She smirked, his expression mirroring hers at the very mention of a second round.

“You tryna do it anywhere.” He chuckled, his hand fumbling for the gearshift and switch ignition before turning it to it’s “Start” point and peeling off into the night.

Sandra really hadn’t expected for this night to carry on further than their earlier phone conversation, let alone it ending with Demetrius being granted access to her most vital secrecy, but there she was. She didn’t know how far they were both willing to take this or where it’d even end, but she was definitely in for the ride.

“Hell yeah.” She nodded her head confidently before strapping herself in for the journey home.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀sandra ゛⠀pepa⠀〟jacqueline denton，circa 1988 as 𝐑𝐎𝐗𝐗𝐀𝐍𝐄 ゛⠀𝐑𝐎𝐗𝐗𝐘⠀〟

⤷ occupation：sandra’s best friend

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀myles truitt as 𝐁-𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 ❪d. meeks❫

⤷ occupation：caporegime of 50 boyz╱bmf

@forbeautyandlife╱@princesskillmonger╱@aislinnsilver╱@chaneajoyyy╱@loosewindmill╱@wawakanda-btch╱@muse-of-mbaku╱@eclecticblkgirl╱@raysunshine78╱@melaninmarvelgirl62╱@hidden-treasures21╱ @janelledarling╱@dameshaemonique╱@ljs-writing╱@ceeverse╱@aureahope╱@thadelightfulone╱@leahnicole1219╱@marvelmaree╱@fd-writes╱@myboyfriendgiriboy╱@yoyolovesbucky╱ @thiccdaddy-mbaku╱@lifelover4u╱@kaykay0829╱@theblulife╱@sheisexcellent-blog╱@thehomierobbstark╱@allhailqueennel╱@goldenfenxty╱@quietstorm-73╱@marysxo╱@tashawar╱@bitchacho25╱@diva-princess-on-fleek @tip222u╱@soulsparker╱@soufcakmistress╱@jimizwidow╱@lameasskara @dangerous-history╱@fiercedeception╱@btitannaaaaa╱@alittlejd╱@lilangelikaa╱@alookintohersoul╱@richonne4life╱@kemkem101╱@shyblackgurl╱@xsweetdellzx ╱@keyera-jackson╱@90sisthenew80s╱@judymfmoody╱@novaniskye╱@elocinnicole

author’s note：⠀⠀⠀‘’ ⠀⠀⠀This is me very humbly stepping outside my comfort zone this evening to spontaneously tag people in order to gain some traction and successfully make it into their Tumblr algorithm after a whole year. 

Allow me to properly introduce myself，my name is Paris，I’m slowly but surely migrating my work from Wattpad to Tumblr again after ten years and I love to write about the Black and Brown men who don’t seem to get enough attention in my spare time，but especially those of the Hamilton community. Other works include Keith Powers，Leon Simmons ❪Isaiah K. John❫ of Snowfall and Zion Kuwonu of PRETTYMUCH. My series and imagines are almost always set in my favorite periods of time. If these seem to be like somethin’ you’d be interested then please，don’t be a stranger in asking to be apart of my tag list， but if not，I want to thank you for your consideration of clicking this notification anyway. It’s greatly appreciated. Before I go treat myself to a face mask，I just want it to be known that us authors within the Black community need the audience to reblog the work! Y’all have a good night watching Euphoria now, ‘cause I know I will! ‹𝟹⠀⠀⠀‘’

[miraculouscontent]

Always.

“Truth” is just... I mean, I want to say “garbage” but that doesn’t even do how bad it is justice? Like, okay, I take four major issues with it (my followers be like: just four? :P):

First is the writing in general and the continuity of it all. This episode looks like it’s been through multiple drafts and the final product is an amalgamation of a bunch of them with no coherency between any of them. I already could kind of guess it from the Adrimi kiss that the finale removed, but it’s obvious that there were going to be Adrimi/Lukanette arcs in Season 4 but then stuff happened (i.e: the staff being cowards) and they got cut. It’s totally possible that the plot with Jagged Stone being the father and Marinette having to keep secrets from Luka were still the same episode even in the original draft, but I imagine it at least wasn’t episode one.

There are other, more subtle hints as well, like the episode giving no time to Luka learning that Jagged is his father (making the fandom wonder if Luka remembered when he was Truth) and Ladybug being shocked when she realizes that the akuma is Luka as if she didn’t already see him be akumatized. Juleka also gets weirdly sidelined in the episode despite being Luka’s twin (Astruc has stated that both Luka and Juleka are older and Juleka got held back, which is why she’s in Marinette’s grade but Luka isn’t), so she’s Jagged’s offspring as well. One might presume that Juleka just never cared at all but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be allowed to interact directly with the guy or have any involvement at all. All it would’ve taken is for Luka to mention that Juleka never cared about who their father was but he did, thereby implying that Juleka’s reaction to Jagged would probably be more like, “oh okay.”

You know, if they didn’t reduce her to incoherent mumbling.

Second is the timing of this episode. We had the New York special with Paris being destroyed, but it’s clearly fine here (so I guess it isn’t canon now; thank God honestly), and while it’s technically possible that enough time has passed (supported by the vague implication that Marinette having to miss out on dates with Luka has gone on for a while, given Tom and Sabine’s lack of reaction to them dating), it’s not supported by Marinette examining the Miracle Box as if she’s only just gotten it.

There’s also Shadow Moth, where we’re shown an extended version of the scene from the end of “Miracle Queen” where Gabriel repairs the peacock miraculous, giving the episode a “Volpina”->”The Collector” vibe but then why are the events lining up the way they do???

The narrative also does a really bad job at showing us why Marinette is so strapped for time. She has guardian duties now but you’d think it’d balance out with her not having to go to Fu anymore for guardian training (you know, that thing we never saw but was said to be happening or at least that it was Fu’s intent to have it happen). You could argue that maybe Shadow Moth is more active, but then Chat Noir should be affected by this too; Ladybug states outright that she’s been busy and Chat Noir responds with something akin to, “oh I know, because you’re guardian,” which implies that it’s her guardian duties keeping her busy and Shadow Moth is just interrupting her dates specifically.

But we don’t even see what responsibilities she has added on as guardian. I knew the writers would make it so her being guardian was a hassle, but it’s the first episode of the series and we’ve gotten next to no answers for what being guardian actually adds.

It’s almost like this was a rushed first episode to break up the only thing that unambiguously made Marinette happy for the sake of bringing the love square back and needlessly making her suffer because the writers think it’s hilarious.

Speaking of which, the third thing thing is the comedy because--just--I hate the comedy in this show.

Like, just to start, there’s the kwami, who clearly begin with their mob mentality from the later episode of “Furious Fu” and all proceed to act like children. No, I didn’t expect them to all be wise (I mean, Xuppu exists and is very much not that, having been implied to be a fit for Kim who is known for being a total himbo), but I don’t expect them to all scatter like they do. Kaalki in particular, who was shown to be more poised and refined, blatantly reveals herself to a bunch of civilians just for the sake of Marinette freaking out and needing to make up an excuse.

Same with Alya and her friends. Marinette is panicking because of the kwami and Alya “deduces” (while shading Marinette so blatantly that it’s insulting) that Adrien must be there in her house which--maybe don’t SAY THAT OUT LOUD in case Adrien is literally in her room???). Then Marinette gets a call from Luka, shouts his name, and the girls do a complete 180 in support of Lukentte. It’s not like I’m not for them supporting whatever Marinette wants to do, but the shift is so sudden (and contradicts “Frozer”) that it gave me whiplash and the entire scene ends up being pointless since the girls still go with the “Marinette is in love with Adrien” thing when Truth asks them what Marinette’s secret is. Like, we could’ve gotten small, stupid secrets that everyone thought only they knew about Marinette, but instead it’s just the same thing over and over again (which makes no sense since, by the time Alya blabs the secret - which Alya has already told Nino before anyway - it’s no longer a secret therefore making the answer invalid).

Heck, the whole “secret” thing could’ve even been the people Truth shoots finding ways of answering his questions in a way that is technically telling the truth but also not really, such as if Anarka had answered the, “Who’s my father?” question with, “someone you know/someone famous,” so as to avoid saying that it’s Jagged Stone. It’s just boring seeing characters answer with whatever the asker wants to hear instead of being able to find a way around it.

And then there’s Chat Noir, who’s just--ugh.

Like--okay, I’m going to be extremely petty for a moment and just go off because I hate Chat Noir’s role in this entire episode. The Season 3 finale went out of its way to have Chat Noir be all like, “I have a girlfriend,” when it was a lie, and then Season 4 just parkours around Ladybug telling him that she’s dating (Ladybug clearly took no issue with Chat Noir telling her he’s dating so it’s not like she’s worried about issues there; she’s gotten on his case before in episodes like “Startrain” so there are exceptions) because they want to keep having him flirt and not be sAd because this is Marinette’s episode of suffering and Chat Noir actually having to face the reality that Ladybug is dating (not just in love with someone else) would’ve actually been interesting. Chat Noir gets tons of unnecessary screentime in the episode - mostly for the show to shove in LadyNoir shipping fuel - and then actively avoids telling him the obvious thing because he would’ve actually been forced to grow/develop/stop flirting.

It would’ve been so cute and sweet to see him awkwardly trying to flirt without overstepping boundaries (so more like banter than flirt) or - you know - actually try to support Ladybug and want her to be able to finish her dates by him offering to keep akuma/sentimonsters busy, but no, he’s just left in the dark.

The finale had Chat Noir supporting her (terribly but I digress) and then doesn’t do anything with it at the start of Season 4, meaning his support of her was completely meaningless and just there.

His first appearance is him pranking Ladybug when she’s already overstressed and busy, which comes off as super poor taste and I’m both glad he got splatted into that window for it but also upset because it’s screentime completely gone to waste, and of course it’s just a lead up to him guilting her by being like, “nooo the only thing that hurts me is when you leave me alone during patrol!”

I know he’s teasing (...probably) but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth because we know (well, I knew because I know how this show works) that Luka and Marinette were going to break up because of Marinette’s hectic schedule, so it just comes off as insensitive to joke about it, especially when Ladybug’s busy guardian status just serves as a reminder that Fu is gone.

Even when he’s protecting Ladybug from Truth’s questions by cutting in and asking a question of his own, of course he asks about himself to forcibly fish compliments out of Ladybug because she can’t lie to him, and of course they have Ladybug compliment his humor most of all as if that trait hasn’t nearly gotten them in danger multiple times and she’s been repeatedly annoyed when he decides to joke during the worst possible times. It’s as if the writers wanted to pat themselves on the back for their own comedy, so they had Ladybug be a mouthpiece to stroke Chat Noir’s ego.

He claims he won’t force a truth out of her and then literally forces her to say what her favorite things about him are. I acknowledge that this can be seen as me nitpicking but we went from the finale where Chat Noir actually stepped up and took charge (because Ladybug was stressed but I guess him doing anything useful is just whenever it serves the plot) to this where he’s back to flirting constantly and jamming in as much LadyNoir shipping fuel as physically possible. It’s not that he’s useless but he’s annoying and takes up space in an episode that’s supposed to be about Luka and Marinette.

And that leads us into the fourth thing, which is the break-up and just the treatment of Luka and Marinette in general. I could go on and on about how the Season 3 finale built up their relationship just to tear it down in the first episode of Season 4, but that’s not the main issue here.

Luka brought Marinette comfort. He made her happy. He never judged her. He was happy to just date her regardless of any conflicted feelings she might have because hey, who is he to complain if she wants to give him a try and who knows what’ll happen?

And the season couldn’t even give one moment of them being unambiguously happy without ruining or interrupting it. I was ready for the break-up and I was even ready for it to be the first episode but I wasn’t ready for it to be so bad.

Marinette’s Adrien pictures appear out of nowhere (again, makes no sense for the timeline) when they’ve been gone for basically all of Season 3 and even “The Puppeteer 2″ specifically which makes a direct reference to “Troublemaker,” the episode that purposefully overdid it with her pictures (”Truth” has more hanging up and clearly used “Troublemaker” as a reference, by the way). They’re just there for force the love square and Adrien into the episode as much as possible to remind the audience that Adrien breathes. There is literally no purpose to any mention of Adrien and bringing him up isn’t even relevant to Marinette and Luka’s break-up.

It’s just upsetting to know that the umbrella scene from “Origins” (which is already flawed in and of itself) kickstarts this whole thing. Adrien did basically nothing there except for clear up a misunderstanding and give Marinette an umbrella when his ride was a few meters away and Marinette’s house was just across the street, but that actives Marinette’s absolutely crippling crush on him that lasts for 3-4 seasons. Marinette is in this eternal struggle of not being allowed to grow and change because the writers think her stammering/crushing on Adrien is funny while actively punishing her for having this crush in the first place (again, like in the scene with Alya, which insults Marinette for her crush when she wasn’t even panicking over her crush).

It’s the same with Luka, and I can’t believe that it took me until this episode to realize that he and Marinette are both treated the same way: tormented by episodes for having a crush on someone. Episodes will go out of their way to forcibly insert Adrien into the plot to both humiliate Marinette and make Luka feel awkward when the episode isn’t supposed to be about Adrien at all. “Truth” is just “Desperada 2.0″ except Adrien is barely on screen at all and they still felt the need to name drop him constantly. The writers are so sensitive to the idea of people jumping onto another ship or forgetting that Adrien exists that they’ll find any possible way to include him.

“Silencer” knew better. “Silencer” knew that Marinette’s life didn’t have to revolve around the mere mention of Adrien’s name and that she had other interests/desires/traits outside of him. Adrien isn’t brought up once and it was great because the show didn’t feel the need (for once) to throw Adrien into an episode that he had nothing to do with.

Even if I was a love square shipper, I would feel insulted by “Truth” because one half of my ship kept getting name dropped and used as a tool to humiliate the other half, which makes it all the more eyeroll-worthy when the love square stans of the fandom praise this episode for breaking Lukanette up when--oh, wait, they didn’t even break up “because Adrien.”

And that ends up being the real thing here. The writers had to invent a reason for Marinette and Luka to break up. We already know that Jagged Stone being Luka’s dad is a retcon (not technically in the show’s canon but in information we heard about outside of it), so they shoved in Luka having issues about not knowing his father specifically so that he would be pushed over the edge when Marinette couldn’t tell him about her being Ladybug.

When Luka and Marinette were just together and hanging out, Adrien wasn’t mentioned once. Say whatever about the Adrien pictures being on the wall and Marinette’s stammering (she always says stupid stuff when she panics - especially stuff she doesn’t mean - so I’m not upset with her so much as the writing for having her mess up in that specific way), but the only time Marinette talks about Adrien at all in the episode is when someone else brings him up.

She goes on a date with Luka to the cinema and they were having a great time without Adrien involved at all. I know I already stressed this point in a previous post, but one of the reasons that I find Lukanette to be so amazing is because the show actually focuses on Marinette’s interests and doesn’t force her to be the writer’s mouthpiece for gushing about their sunshine boy a punching bag for comedy. In every Lukanette scene that doesn’t bring up Adrien/before Adrien shows up, Marinette is either praised, able to be happy, or is showing one of her interests that isn’t aDrIeN, and whereas Adrien being on-screen around Marinette usually just means that she’s gushing about/stammering around him with no development, Lukanette features us actually learning more about Luka or other characters.

“Captain Hardrock” - lets her bond with Luka over a shared interest in Jagged Stone, and Luka is established as a sort of empath who uses music as a way to speak for himself

“Frozer” - gets to practice ice skating with Luka, who is actually good at ice skating and also can tie laces despite not tying his own because he’s a rebel

“Desperada” - gets to try out guitar with Luka and we learn that Luka has been playing guitar for as long as he can remember

“Silencer” - showcases Marinette’s interest in fashion and properly introduces Kitty Section; has a plot featuring all of them together doing something not even remotely love-related and we get actual confirmation of Luka’s crush on Marinette, along with Marinette’s reaction (blushy+happy; just saying, idk how anyone could watch “Silencer” and not think that Marinette was crushing on Luka)

“Heart Hunter” - Marinette gets a song written for/about her and Luka is established to have a job

“Truth” - brings up Lukanette’s shared interest in Jagged Stone, features Marinette’s interest in fashion when she gives him a gift she made + had Jagged Stone sign, and shows her raising her voice but not being judged by Luka for it, who’s happy with her just the way he is

When the show focuses on Lukanette, it’s all about lifting Marinette up, praising her, and making her feel good. When Adrien is involved or it’s hyper-fixating on Marinette’s crush on him, it’s about bringing her down and making her feel bad for a crush they keep forcing her to hold onto and humiliating her for.

Point being, the writers had to force their way into getting Lukanette broken up because of their precious love square and the fact that Marinette and Luka being happy is the opposite of what they want.

It’s embarrassing to watch a team full of old white guys (I’m convinced at this point that they just hang their female writer on a coat hanger so they can point to her whenever someone says that their staff is too male-dominated) treat their female biracial lead with such disrespect, and I can only presume that the mistreatment of Luka is because he’s supportive of her and they don’t like that, meaning that the way she’s treated ends up rubbing off on him.

It doesn’t come off as a fun or interesting plot; it comes off as cruel. When Adrien is sad, he usually gets people rushing to comfort him (”Party Crasher,” “Gamer”), but “Truth” has Marinette in tears over the fact that she can’t have a boyfriend due to being Ladybug and the writing has the gall to crack jokes about Kaalki not knowing what tears are, and then Marinette has to ask for the kwami to hug her for comfort.

When Luka gets akumatized into Truth, the episode doesn’t even hesitate at bashing away at him, from everyone saying that Marinette’s secret is that she “loves Adrien” (which, as Truth points out, isn’t a secret, and they could’ve had this somehow lead up to a twist ending where Marinette actually isn’t into Adrien anymore and the Adrien pictures were genuinely for reference, but she stammered about it because it was embarrassing that her boyfriend got sent it with no context) to one of Luka’s favorite songs actually being about how Jagged abandoned him to go on tour. Luka has to deal with Marinette ditching him constantly (not that I blame her) and not knowing who his father is despite wanting to know, and the episode treats him like trash for... what? Having a crush on a girl who’s secretly Ladybug? Because that’s all it seems to come down to in the end.

I also have serious gripes with the fact that Marinette has this huge schedule established in “Gamer 2.0″ and they don’t even try to explain why she can’t use it to keep track of her obligations. The episode has her say (in a roundabout way but still) that she’s forgetting stuff constantly because of all of her emergencies (the emergencies of which are not stated and I hate the subtle implication that forgetting something means you don’t care about it when that’s clearly not how things work and also not what Marinette comes off as because - again - they establish that she’s overworked) but fails to properly explain it. The episode hammers away at Marinette having all these issues and even has Tikki chide Marinette by asking her about leaving Luka alone while apparently neglecting the fact that Marinette HAS to go be Ladybug right now and what else is there to even do??

Both Luka and Marinette are punished for just having a crush and wanting to be together and I hate that the episode forces a break-up instead of coming up with a solution to the problem. Instead of “Marinette isn’t ready for a romantic relationship,” it feels more like she’s just not allowed to be happy.

Long-distance relationships are a thing. Relationships where people don’t get to go on dates frequently are a thing. Instead of forcing a break-up, the episode could’ve had a lesson/development where Marinette is told that she’s allowed to pursue a relationship and just needs to plan accordingly. but they just didn’t want to.

For example: instead of planning dates, Marinette could wait until an akuma/sentimonster is defeated to call Luka and ask him out, because Hawk Moth usually doesn’t strike immediately after one is dealt with. I’m positive that Luka would happily take impromptu/sudden dates over planned-but-inconsclusive ones. Heck, they don’t even have to date specifically and can just stick to phone calls (kwami can’t be picked up on technology) or hanging out in Marinette’s room/on Marinette’s balcony while they do their thing.

Relationships are a commitment, but that doesn’t mean they have to be a burden, and the episode absolutely drags Marinette over it. The whole thing with the kwami being released and stressing her out when they’re not supposed to be able to just come out normally is explained away by, “oh, the new box must be like you, Marinette; full of surprises!” when the reality is just that the show wants to take away everything that’s sacred to Marinette. The Season 3 finale had Fu’s letter telling Marinette that “life doesn’t always give you what you want, but the real gift is life itself,” then proceeds to turn Marinette’s life into a living hell.

Her room? She has to say good-bye to her privacy because now the kwami are always going to be around. The first thing one of them (Trixx) did was start reading her diary, showing that they have absolutely no shame or regard for Marinette’s feelings.

Her schedule? Conveniently pops away into the realm of non-existence so she can look bad for ditching Chat Noir on patrol and neglecting dates with Luka due to her responsibilities/stress.

Her boyfriend, the one person in the entire show who loved her, respected her agency, never judged her, actually apologized when he made her sad, and who she was genuinely in love with rather than just having the equivalent of a celebrity crush for? She had to break up with him because plot and needing to force her to go back to fawning over the guy who has only made her life worse by her crushing on him.

When I say the universe hates Marinette, this is what I mean. It created random akuma to attack Paris all for the sake of forcing Marinette away from Luka, and apparently didn’t realize what they were doing in the scene where Marinette hurries back to the Liberty when Kitty Section and Adrien are playing together when Adrien is Chat Noir so he should’ve been late too.

(Oh, and Marinette completely ignores Adrien in favor of waving at Luka and even tells Luka outright that Adrien isn’t even a factor in their relationship issues, further proving the “multiple drafts smashed together” and “the Adrien name drops are pointless” points.)

The whole thing in “Backwarder” where it was basically outright stated that Marianne could’ve been Fu’s confidant had Marianne not been outed by Ladybug’s mistake? Completely forgotten and left to the wayside. Marinette could’ve told Luka that she was watching the Miracle Box in Ladybug’s place (for any number of reasons, really: either Ladybug thinks it’s too dangerous to keep with her, or if the public doesn’t know that Ladybug is guardian, then Marinette can just say that she’s guardian) and that she has to run off to keep guard of the Miracle Box when an akuma/sentimonster happens in case Ladybug needs a miraculous.

Boom, done, episode solved. Luka gets to help Marinette with the kwami, Marinette is less stressed because someone knows half of her secret, and Luka and Marinette continue to date but are able to plan around akuma attacks.

But no. That whole thing in “Backwarder” where guardians (or at least Fu) can have a confidant was just there so Marinette could feel guilty about screwing it all up, because she’s not able to take advantage of that perk herself.

How convenient.

[aellynera]

Loose Change (Llewyn Davis x Reader)

LOOSE CHANGE

For this week’s Writer Wednesday hosted by the lovely @autumnleaves1991-blog! Llewyn was the first thing that popped into my head when I saw this, and I really don’t know where the rest of it came from, but I just had to write it. Thank you for reading, commenting, liking, and reblogging! 💜💜

This week’s inspiration:

Word Count: 2300 on the dot.

Summary: How bad can it be when your phone rings in the middle of the night? (An alternate take on what could have happened on the way back from Chicago.)

Warnings: Angsty. Hopeful. Hopeful angst? Angstful hope? Maybe a swear or two. Sketchy phone booths. Wrong numbers. Yearning. Secrets, poor decisions, better choices.

The bed was warm but you could hear the cold rain pounding on the window behind your head. Ignoring it and staying in your cozy, comfortable cocoon was definitely your best option, and you rolled over and pulled the blankets tighter over your head. This was the right place to be and you felt yourself start drifting back to sleep.

Until your phone started ringing.

Your phone, which was nowhere near your bed, or even in your bedroom. It wasn’t even within fifty feet of you; it was securely fastened to the wall in your kitchen, by the sink, next to the pantry door. And your kitchen was clear on the other side of the apartment. 

A quick check of the clock told you that it was also the ungodly hour of 3:28 am, the red digits blaring at you angrily in the near-dark. Who in the world was calling you at this hour? For a long few minutes you thought about ignoring it. It was probably a wrong number. That happened all the time. Or maybe it was some kids having a party and pranking. In the middle of the night. That was probably it.

But a little tickle at the back of your brain, small and sinewy, kept curling around your thoughts and rationalization and it wouldn’t let go. Maybe it’s important. Maybe it really was. Maybe something happened to one of your parents or your sister or-

The phone didn’t stop ringing. So it must be important.

With an exasperated groan, you launched yourself out of bed, one quilt still wrapped around you to ward off the damp chill. Your bare feet slapped along the tile floor and your balance wavered slightly, your muscles still used to being asleep, until you finally got to the kitchen and yanked the receiver off the ringing phone.

“Hello?” your sleep-ridden voice rasped out cautiously. 

“Hey,” the voice on the other end came back. “You got the stuff?”

“The...what?”

“You know, the…” 

“The st...No! Do you know what time it is? This is a wrong number! What the hell!” You slammed the phone back down on its cradle.

Figures. It was a wrong number. You wanted to go back to bed, you really did. But now you found yourself wide awake because someone wanted stuff that you wouldn’t have day or night.

So you wandered over to the couch and tried to get comfortable on the lumpy cushions, and watched the rain coming down outside your window bounce dramatically off the fire escape.

Until your phone rang again.

A curse flew from your lips as you hurled the quilt off and stomped back to the phone. You grabbed it, put it to your ear, and shouted, “What?”

“I...are you okay?” a voice came back. A familiar voice, this time.

“Llewyn? Is that you?” you closed your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me,” he replied. “Uh, sorry I’m calling you so late.”

You sighed. “I’m fine. It’s fine. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess. I just...some stuff happened, and I needed to hear a familiar voice.”

Your heart immediately softened in your chest, despite your very strong desire to still be angry. Llewyn certainly didn’t sound okay, but that was his norm. You wanted to reach through the phone and hold him, care for him.

You always had a soft spot for him, ever since Jean introduced you so long ago, that day in the park when all the musician friends gathered to play at the fountain. He spent a fair amount of time sleeping on this lumpy old couch. You cooked him a hot meal when you could (and when he would let you), gave him a place to stay even if you weren’t home (on the rare occasion that he would even agree to it, which was slowly becoming more frequent.) You went to as many of his shows as you could, and you really just liked to hang out with him when he was around. He’d slowly become one of your best friends. 

And yeah, he was kind of an asshole a lot of the time, but he was sweet and you probably liked him a little more than you were willing to admit.

“Llewyn, where are you? Do you need me to come get you or something?” you asked with a yawn. You really hoped that’s why he was calling you at...3:37 am..

His laugh was short. “Well, if you feel like driving to Ohio, sure.”

“Ohio?” you cried. “What are you doing in…”

The laugh from moments before fell into a sigh and you could hear a soft thunk follow. “I’m in Akron. In a payphone booth outside of a bar, banging my head on the glass. I’ll hitchhike home in the morning, it’s fine.”

“You’re in Akron,” you repeated slowly. “Why are you in Akron?”

“Because I was in Chicago-”

“Which is not Akron, the last time I checked. Or even the same state,” you pointed out. You picked the quilt up from the floor and wrapped yourself back in it, settling on the couch again. The receiver cord had just enough reach that you were able to sit with your back against one arm and stare back out the window and the slippery wet metal of the fire escape glinting in the moonlight.

Vaguely you remembered this was the quilt Llewyn had used the last time he stayed with you.

“Well it’s on the way back,” Llewyn snapped. “And I wouldn’t be in Akron if the car I was in hadn’t broken down and…”

“Does this have something to do with Diane?” you asked softly. That sinewy tentacle of intuition was back, curling around your brain again.

The rough exhale of air on the other end of the line was the only answer you needed.

“Llewyn.” You said again, still soft, but more stern. Something was going on, and you could tell he wasn’t going to tell you without some prodding.

After what felt like hours, he finally muttered, “Maybe.”

“Llewyn, what are you doing? You can’t possibly want to talk to her, after everything that happened. Did the car really break down in Akron, or did you request a stop? Because it seems kind of suspect that you would just, you know, end up there of all places on your way back from Chicago, and what were you even doing in Chicago? I just saw you a couple days ago and you didn’t say anything about--”

It wasn’t until Llewyn broke through your rant that you noticed you’d hadn’t stopped for a single breath.

“The car really did break down,” he insisted. “And I don’t actually want to see her. Not really. But...I feel like I kind of have to, and it’s...it’s just a coincidence that I got stranded here?”

You didn’t know what to say. So you didn’t, and after a beat, he continued.

“I have a kid.”

It suddenly felt like all the air was sucked out of the room. “I’m sorry, what?” You knew he couldn’t see you, but maybe he could feel the way your eyebrows shot up your forehead.

“Diane,” he sighed again, “she didn’t...I found out she had the kid. So I have a kid. Somewhere in Akron. Where I’m currently stranded, looking like a drunk bum loitering outside a sketchy bar.”

You blinked infinitely as you stared out the window. What do you say to that? How do you say anything to that? So you just said the first thing that came to mind.

“Are you drunk?”

“Really?” Now you were pretty sure you could hear his brows raise. “Do I sound like I’ve been drinking?”

“No, I’m sorry, I just...holy shit, Llewyn,” you breathed. “And she never told you?”

His chuckle sounded so morose. “No. Why would she? That was a pretty shit time, for everyone.”

“I’m listening,” you whispered.

You knew the story of what happened between them. Llewyn had told you himself, one night over coffee and an entire chocolate cake that one of your elderly neighbors had made for you for helping her fix her leaky faucet. Of course, Jean had (in her own mind) helpfully filled in all the blanks she swore Llewyn left out, but you preferred to go with his version. She only thought you knew the basics. But that night, fueled by caffeine and frosting, Llewyn admitted you were the only one apart from the actual players that knew everything.

But this part? This was something new.

“She never told me,” he explained. “I thought she went through with it and it turned out she didn’t and she’s not even the one who told me, it was...you know, never mind. That part isn't important.”

“So when did you find out? How long have you been in Akron?”

He sighed. “Just before I left for Chicago. And since this afternoon. I thought about looking them up, but…”

And he told you how he tried an old number he had for Diane’s parents, but it was disconnected. And he’d asked around at the diner he found (over something called chili which wasn’t like any chili he’d ever had and just further proved how weird Ohio was) but got no information. And how he didn’t really want to see her, and maybe he didn’t even really want to meet up with anyone, but if he could, he at least wanted to see what his own kid looked like, just to know.

The longing in his voice, the what if, the hurt. It was all laid bare from hundreds of miles away, yet you could feel it hovering next to you on that couch. Wrapped around you in that threadbare quilt.

It didn’t feel like the time to offer any advice, and platitudes, any words at all. Not now. So you simply curled up in that quilt - his quilt - and listened. It was rare for him to open up like this and you didn’t want to interrupt, didn’t want to staunch the flow of emotional honesty that he quite frankly needed.

Until the tinny, pleasantly fabricated, slightly mechanical voice broke in, if you’d like to continue this call, please add funds, otherwise this call will disconnect in three minutes.

“Shit, that was my last quarter,” Llewyn muttered. “I’ll get back to you when I get back in town, yeah?”

Oh no, you brain screamed. Well, yes, but no, no he was not just going to let the issue drop like this, quarters be damned.

“Llewyn, I need you to listen to me. Get home as soon as you can, and we can talk about this more. And get here in one piece, please be safe.”

“Okay,” he replied with a heavy exhale.

“And...and Llewyn, when you get back home, please...please come home.”

There was silence from his end, silence that lasted so long you thought the call had disconnected without you noticing. Your breath stuck in your lungs, for how long you couldn’t tell, but then suddenly his voice came through the receiver again, flustered and short.

“I...okay, yeah, I will, I gotta go, but...damn it, what is there to lose now, I lo--”

And the call cut off.

You stared at the receiver in your hand for so long the fast busy-beep of the receiver being off the hook is the only thing that snapped you out of it.

You didn’t sleep for the rest of what was left of the night.

For the next day, and the day after, you ran the entire phone call through your head more times that you cared to admit. Every word he’d said, every word you’d said, every pause and admission and what he might have been trying to say at the end. Your mind very (un)helpfully offered all kinds of ideas about what wasn’t said, what maybe couldn’t yet be said, and you just let it tumble around chaotically. 

As if you could control it anyway.

You didn’t get much sleep.

Later that night, and on the second day after, after a long day at work and a longer day of thinking, you found yourself curled up on the couch again, with a glass of wine and a record spinning quietly on the turntable. Wrapped in that same quilt. Your quilt- his quilt.

You stared out the window, this time not at the rain, but the setting sun and the soft, rich colors it was painting across the sky.

You hoped he had really listened. You hope he knew what you actually meant. You hoped he wouldn’t get sidetracked as he often tended to do and that he would really show up. You didn’t know how you were going to do it, but you would help him like you always had. Together you would figure out what to do, what he needed to do, what he wanted to do, how to do it. Together.

This wasn’t something he should have to figure out on his own. He probably didn’t want to admit it, but you hope he knew he couldn’t, and shouldn’t, and didn’t have to. You hoped Llewyn would let you.

That tickle, that tentacle in the back of your brain, took firm hold. You knew he would come back, but you prayed he would come home.

That he had listened. That he knew. That he--

Your head snapped up at the sound of a knock on the door. You carefully set the wine glass down and slowly walked yourself, quilt and all, over to answer it.

And once you opened it, saw the man standing before you, exhausted and disheveled but...grateful, maybe even hopeful, you wrapped it around both of you and pulled Llewyn in.

~end~

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[collecting-stories]

Charismatic - JJ Maybank

Request: hi, can I request a jj blurb with the prompt #1: “There’s so many people looking.” - “Well, they don’t have to look if they don’t like it, do they?” Thank you!

A/N: This is the fic that broke my writer’s block. 

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

JJ was in the midst of a hilarious story. Or at least everyone in the room seemed engaged enough that it felt like it must be some kind of epic recounting on his part. He was smiling talking, fast, hands moving, and everyone seemed to have stopped what they were doing to pay attention to him. The nice thing about fall was that parties downsized to John B’s house or some other place on the Cut and generally, you could name every face. Most of them went to school with you.  

Most of them had helpless crushes on JJ. And who could blame them. He was gorgeous and sweet in that way that made you feel important when he was talking to you. As if some good fortune had smiled down on you just because JJ was giving you his undivided attention for .3 seconds. Maybe it was a kinda pathetic but you felt for them. You had been them until roughly six months ago when something greater than fortune shined on you and all the years spent being friends with JJ had turned into something more.  

“What’s happening right now?” John B teased, grabbing a beer out of his fridge and popping the top.  

You were sitting on the counter right beside the open door, goosebumps prickling your skin at the feeling of the cold refrigerated air hitting your legs. It was a little too cold for shorts but you had decided to wear them anyway. The hoodie you were sporting clearly did nothing for you, at least the shorts made your legs look good. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that,” John B waved his hand toward the living room area of the Chateau where JJ was talking. Some girl to his left, was her name Anna, you took calc with her, laid her hand on his arm and leaned in close to him.  

“The cleavage shot.” You replied, “It is Anna, she always goes for the cleavage.” You watched her angle just so and JJ’s eyes lingered for a split second before he was looking away, passed his listeners, to you. His eyes met yours and you bit your bottom lip to stop from laughing at him, expression like a puppy that knew he was in trouble though you could honestly care less.  

When he wasn’t with anyone he liked to fool around, you knew that well enough from all your years as friend and confidant, but you also knew that JJ was always loyal, sometimes to a fault. In six months, you had never even considered the possibility of cheating. It never crossed your mind, you never worried about it.  

“It’s disturbing you know these things.” John B replied, watching the group again.  

You shrugged, “you know how much crap I used to pull just to get JJ’s attention? I broke my arm on a skateboard for him.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Oh yeah, the sex is amazing.” You replied, laughing when John half spit out his beer before shoving your leg.  

“God, don’t tell me that.” He groaned.  

“You asked,” You watched JJ get up, heading over to the two of you while someone turned up or restarted the music, you couldn’t be sure. “Hey tell me,” you said as he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, “does the JJ stand for Jim Jones, cause you’re some kind of cult leader, I swear.”

“You’re hilarious.” JJ muttered, popping the top off his beer and kicking back half of it in a single go.  

John B sent you a concerned look, glancing out over the rest of the small pogue gathering, searching for Sarah, “I’ll catch you later.”

You nodded, turning your attention back to JJ. When he tried to move passed you extended your leg, socked foot just barely touching the island as you barricaded him.  

“Move.”

“No,” you laughed, dropping that leg and extending your other when he tried to turn around. When he turned again you did the same thing only this time, he pushed your leg down and you gripped the countertop to keep yourself from falling over at the sudden jerk of your leg. “What the fuck JJ!”  

“I told you to move.”  

“I was just teasing you, god,” you muttered, hoping down off the counter.  

“Yeah well, you aren’t funny!”  

JJ had never been accused of being patient in his life and you knew how short his fuse could be but when he got angry it was usually because there was something to be angry about. He wasn’t one to be too irrational or get mad out of nowhere though there were times when he perceived something that wasn’t true and flipped out over it. You usually let him calm down before you talked it out, never one to like being yelled at, but tonight you were annoyed.  

He had been fine five minutes ago, laughing with everyone and now he was going to act like a jerk to you for no apparent reason. You were not in the mood. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You tried to keep your voice down so no one would notice the two of you arguing on the other side of the island but that was futile, Anna from calc was already casting glances your way and she motioned to her friends to pay attention too. It was like she was waiting for something, like she’d foreseen it and it was all happening according to plan.  

“Wrong with me?” JJ downed the rest of his beer, tossing the bottle in the trash. It clashed against others and you jumped from the sudden noise. “At least wait till I’m out of the fucking room before you start flirting with my friends!”  

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t flirting with John B.”  

“I saw you!”

“I’m allowed to talk to whoever the hell I want, John B included!” Out of the corner of your eye you could see more people paying attention. You could imagine the residual effects of fighting like this in front of everyone. The gossips in the pogue circles were worse than the kooks. Were you and JJ breaking up? Had you been cheating with John B? And then it would morph into different stories, that you were cheating, that you were stringing JJ along. “Can we talk about this somewhere else? Please, there are so many people looking.”  

“Well they don’t have to look if they don’t like it, do they?”  

“Please can we just talk in the bedroom?” You could hear yourself practically begging him to have this conversation anywhere else. The crowd and the music and the atmosphere of the party were definitely fueling him.  

“I’m sure you’d love that.”

“I’m not cheating on you!” You shouted, catching him off guard. You’d had your fair share of arguments, some of them pointless and silly, some more serious, but you were always level-headed. You talked things out first, you never shouted or raised your voice or even engaged when he was angry. You waited until he was ready to talk or you were ready to talk and then the issue was resolved. Seeing you yell like that, hand hitting the countertop, shocked him.  

You pushed passed JJ and ran down the hall into Big John’s office, slamming the door shut and sitting against it on the ground, the music a faint murmur now. You couldn’t tell if you were just crying or hyperventilating but either way that tightness in your chest settled in as you tried to breathe. Everyone had been in the room, you had seen Kiara, Sarah, Pope, and John B in the back, toward the door, a sea away from you. If anyone came it wouldn’t be John B, he wasn’t stupid enough to check on you directly after JJ had accused you of flirting or cheating or whatever with him. And you ruled JJ out pretty quickly too. Maybe Pope then, or Sarah, you were closest to both of them.  

Someone knocked, “can we talk?” JJ’s voice came through the door and you reached up, holding the door knob so he couldn’t push it open.  

You weren’t sure if you wanted to talk to him. You hadn’t even thought of him as being the first person to check on you let alone thought about whether or not you would want him to check on you. Maybe you did, maybe you wanted to know why he thought that you were flirting with your best friend right in front of him.  

“Hold on,” you started to get your bearings, letting go of the door knob and moving so you could stand up. JJ, in his overzealousness, swinging the door opening and banging into you. “Ow, fuck JJ, god.”

“Why are you on the floor?”

“Oh sorry I fucking hit you with the door, let me help you up.” You mocked, getting up and crossing your arms in front of you.  

“Sorry,” JJ apologized, though a little irritable.  

“What?”

“Don’t day what like that, I came to apologize.” He insisted.  

“No, you came in so you could bullshit an apology and get back to the party.” You replied. “I should’ve known.”

“You’re being a-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” You snapped. “I don’t need to hang on you like your precious flock, god, I’m allowed to just sit and chill with my friends.  I don’t know what you expect JJ…do you want me to be jealous? I’m not. I’m sorry if you think I would ever cheat on you or flirt with some other guy cause I wouldn’t. And I would never think that you would either, so I don’t give two shits if Anna from calc wants to hang all over you because until like ten minutes ago I was pretty secure in the knowledge that we were going home together at the end of the night.”  

JJ stood there, not saying anything for a moment, the sound of the music seeping in beneath the door. You wondered if everyone else had resumed partying, if your friends were all waiting at the end of the hall with baited breath to see what might happen next.  

“I like you so much. I did the dumbest shit just to get your attention. John B is my friend, end of, I don’t care about him the way I care about you…I don’t care about anyone the way I care about you.”  

“I just…” JJ paused, running a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends a little as if that would help calm him down, “I don’t know, I just looked over and you guys were talking and whatever, yeah, talk to whoever you want but lately it just feels like everything is about him and I don’t know…I don’t give a shit about anyone else, I just wanted your attention.”  

You sat down on the edge of Big John’s desk, “we’re really something huh?”  

“Yeah,” JJ sighed, leaving the door he’d been standing in front of and coming over to you, stepping between your legs and letting you wrap your arms around his, holding you against him.  

“You always have my attention J, you don’t have to do anything special.” You said, face pressed against his shirt.  

“Sorry, for real this time, I shouldn’t have freaked out on you.”  

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have.” You looked up at him, biting your lip, “you can make it up to me though.”  

“Oh yeah, how’s that?”  

“The couch is pretty comfortable in here.” You laughed when JJ scooped you up off the table, hands beneath your thighs. He never had to be told twice.  

-

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[reawritesthings]

Stand By You | Rafe Cameron

gif by @rudypankows

you agree to a family dinner with the cameron’s, when ward boasts about his daughter and not your boyfriend, you finally stand up for rafe.

requested: by @drewstarkey!! ( this was originally something she requested for the 100 ways, but i decided to do it into an imagine)

a/n: im not the best writer but i just thought this could be a cute little imagine for you all. I take requests if you any of you are interested, but i understand if you don’t sksks.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

You always avoided attending the glamorous Cameron family dinners, and Rafe completely agreed. From the stories he told you, it was definitely not something you could sit through. You could barely sit through a whole forty five minutes of keeping up with the Kardashians; Wheezie’s favourite.

Being Rafe’s girlfriend was a lot of work. It definitely wasn’t a walk in the park. A lot has happened regarding Rafe’s weed addiction and Ward almost kicking him out, he needed you more than ever.

“Babe..” He hummed whilst playing with your hair.

You looked up at him, staring into his blue eyes.

“I know you always say no to this but since you love me very mu-” You rolled your eyes, sitting up as you knew what exactly he was asking you. “Yes, I’ll go to dinner, which is tonight I believe?” You laughed pointing towards the fridge with recipes that Rose had out.

“How did you even know i would ask you that?” Rafe questioned.

“Rose made me clean the cutlery before you decided to wake up. She even made me be her advisor on what dress to wear. Plus, judging by the fridge full of recipes, it wasn’t a hard guess.”

Rafe was amazed, he didn’t even think he knew your family as well as you did his.

“God, that just turned me on.” Rafe smirked, connecting your face with his but you pulled away.

“It’s almost three and you haven’t changed. I need to ask Sarah for an outfit and make a good first impression.” You chuckled, getting up from the sofa stretching out your limbs before the mayhem begins.

“I’ll see you soon, baby. If you need me to help you with the zipper, let me know.” You winked, turning away to find Wheezie shaking her head at the two of you.

“Gross.” She groaned opening the fridge.

“Don’t you have to get ready?” You asked her, placing one hand on your hip.

“Don’t you have a zipper to fix?” She imitated you, even placing her hand on her own hip.

“Wheezie.” Rafe spoke, walking up to her.

“Fine, I’ll go get ready.” Wheezie moaned as she dragged herself away from the kitchen.

“About the zipper….” Rafe whispered but you walked away too, leaving a very frustrated Rafe to fend for himself.

-

Getting ready for an event like this wasn’t your favourite. It wasn’t you, you didn’t like putting on makeup or dresses just to cover up the drama that goes on inside these walls. Rose peeking her head through the spare bedroom every five minutes wasn’t exactly helping you either.

The creamy fabric of the silk dress fit nicely on your shoulders, hugging your body like a tight embrace. The colour of the dress matched your eyes, and as you turned over to check the back you noticed your boyfriend standing there, mouth open.

“How’s it goi- you look beautiful.” Rafe swallowed his pride as he noticed how your figure stood out in the dress.

Rafe never really tried to make you blush this much, but it was his raspy voice that always got your cheeks burning. Planting a small kiss on your cheek, you turned around giving one back on his lips.

“And you clean up nicely.” You chuckled as Rafe fiddled with his sleeves.

“Are you nervous?” You asked, shoving him off you as you tried to find your earrings.

Rafe nodded. He didn’t exactly have the best relationship with his father right now, and hosting a family dinner certainly wasn’t exactly the greatest redemption. But, that’s the Cameron’s.

“Dad still isn’t getting off my case about me smoking. And that I ruined some stupid business contract.” Rafe huffed, searching for something to press his anger on.

“Baby, breathe. Just ignore your dad for the night. There’s going to be like, over a hundred people here and I’m sure he will be too busy boasting about Sarah. We can hang back with Wheezie…” You chuckled as you saw her figure enter the room.

“No you won’t. I have a reputation to hand out. Plus, Mum wants us down in exactly thirty seconds or we won’t get dessert.” Wheezie threatened, looking over at Rafe who knew that was a legitimate reason to go downstairs.

“Why do we have to go downstairs? It’s not even 7?” You questioned as Rafe pushed you out of the room, closing the door behind you.

“After this, I’ll need a drink.” Rafe whispered in your ear and you rolled your eyes at how dramatic he could be.

“Listen up, Cameron’s and Y/N. Best behaviour, best manners and always be elegant. Y/N since it’s your first dinner with the family, a few little rules.” Rose cleared her throat, taking out the list she hid in her dress.

You looked at Rafe with a look, even Wheezie shook her head too.

“No kissing, no flirting, try not to start any drama and when eating, you start outwards and go in.” Rose sternly looked at you, she wasn’t playing and neither was Ward who was examining the whiskey.

“Who had some whiskey?” Ward spoke, looking directly at the both of you.

“Who do you think?” Rafe spoke, rolling his eyes as he was the only one who would drink at this time.

“How many times have I told you not to fucking drink? Especially my own whiskey. It’s like you want me to kick you out.” Ward roared causing Wheezie to cling onto your hand, which you gripped firmly.

As Rafe was about to defend himself, you opened your mouth immediately regretting.

“Stop being so hard on him, he just had a little sip and I had the rest. You never scream at Sarah when she’s drinking, and she’s what? 16?”

Rafe and Sarah's eyes widened, so did Rose’s, but Wheezie gave you a thumbs up.

“Watch your mouth, girl. You don’t speak to me like that, one more word out of your mouth you aren’t welcome here.” Ward threatened looking at Rafe to make sure he got the same warning.

The awkwardness had now invaded the room, you didn’t even know what to say, but the touch of Rafe’s hand squeezing around yours made you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Let’s just get this dinner over and done with.” Rose stuttered, walking out of the room to finish setting up the dining table.

As everyone made their way out, you and Rafe were left behind. When the door shut, you turned to Rafe but was taken back by his lips attacking yours.

You quickly pulled away, wanting to apologise for what had happened. “I’m so sorry, I know I shouldn’t have done that but he makes me so angry.”

Rafe shook his head making sure the strand of your hair was tucked nicely behind your ear.

“It’s okay, but baby.. try not to start something tonight. No matter how much you want to strangle him, let’s get through this dinner and I can finally rip that dress off you.” He smirked opening the door, leading you to a dinner party you won’t forget.

-

It wasn’t too bad, there were a lot of people but you were quite happy staying at the back with Wheezie whilst Rafe was mingling with his family.

“How come you aren’t talking to your cousins?” You asked Wheezie who was tapping away on her phone which you took out of her hand.

“Because they are lame and I’d rather hang back here with you, than be with them.” Wheezie whined looking up at you but you just responded with a laugh.

You and Wheezie had an odd friendship, she would often refer to you as Buzz Lightyear and she was Woody.

“I’m flattered.. but, your mother has been staring at us for exactly five minutes. Let’s mingle with the commoners. How about later, we steal the cake and watch a movie?” You negotiated with her, knowing cake always ends up winning.

Wheezie nodded holding your hand as she directed you towards her cousins, not letting go of your hand.

-

“This is delicious, Rose. How did you make these potatoes so cheesy?” One of the aunties said, taking a sip of wine.

“Cheese?” Wheezie laughed looking at Rose who gave her a glare.

“Funny one you got there.” The aunty mimicked, but Rose just gripped onto her fork hoping no one would see.

“Did I tell you that Sarah is now applying at the top schools in NYC? She even has a scholarship.” Ward beamed at his daughter who frankly couldn’t care less, but for her mother she just smiled.

Before anyone could congratulate Sarah, Ward again, had something to say. “Also, Wheezie has gotten straight A’s in all her subjects. How did I get so lucky?”

Every word that Ward spat out, made the flames inside you burn. Every time he boasted about his daughters and ignoring Rafe, made you want to add more fuel to the fire. Your fist began to clench and Rafe quickly noticed, placing his palm over top but that didn’t stop your rage.

“I almost forg-“ Ward was taken back by the sound of your chair creaking back made everyone’s attention divert to your body.

“Anything you like to say, Y/N?” Ward faked a smile looking over at Rafe.

“As matter of fact, I do. You do realise that you have a son too? A son that tries so hard to make you see him as a human being and not a disgrace. He has worked so hard to get you to value him like you value Sarah. He’s made mistakes but he is human, he may have gotten into smoking weed, but you can’t talk, you’ve done worse. Rafe is just as clever as Sarah and Wheezie are, you may not see it and don’t believe in him, but I do!” You shouted as you noticed a lot of crumbs on your plate.

Ward was boiling, his veins we’re slowly appearing and that was never a good sign. You looked down at Rafe, but he didn’t meet your gaze.

“Rafe, take your girlfriend out of here now.” Ward sneered through his teeth as he grabbed onto the plate, gripping on tight.

Rafe nodded, pulling you harshly away from the table, escorting you towards the garden.

He was mad, you could tell from the eye contact and how tight he was grabbing your wrist. “Rafe, I’m sor-“

He cut you off, “I don’t want to hear it, Y/N. Why couldn’t you just leave it alone? Why couldn’t you just let him praise my sisters and leave it at that? He’s going to kill me now.” Rafe signed, pulling his hair as he didn’t know what to do in this situation.

“How can you stand there and just let him degrade you like that? He was acting as if you weren't even there? You are just as clever as they are. I hate when he treats you like this Rafe, I fucking hate it.” You screamed kicking the swan floaty away from the pool.

“I know, baby. But, you just have to get used to it.. I have.”

“I hate how he treats you… you deserve a better father.” You whispered not wanting Rafe to see the tears that boiled up in your eyes.

Rafe shook his head, lifting your chin up as he pushed away the hair from your face. “I love you, and I’m fucking glad to call you my girlfriend.” He smiled, softly kissing your lips as you slowly moved back to make more space between you both.

The kiss deepened, his hands were firmly tight on your bum as he lightly gripped it causing you to chuckle.

“Your family is inside.. they can see.” You whispered through the kiss but Rafe didn’t care, he was already embarrassed enough. As Rafe took a step closer to you, cupping your cheeks, your shoes got caught in the flare of your dress causing you to fall into the pool.

“Rafe!!” You screamed swimming up to the surface, looking at him whilst he was laughing his head off.

“Are you okay baby?” Rafe laughed, ripping off his suit jacket and jumping in causing the water to splash against the window.

“We are in so much trouble….” You giggled, looking over at the window as you saw someone pull the door open.

Wheezie.

“Can I join?” she asked looking at the two of you.

Rafe nodded, holding out his arms so Wheezie could jump in

“I hope you never break up with her, Rafe. She’s the best sister I ever had.” Wheezie complimented you, as she pulled you into a tight hug.

“What about Sarah?”

“Eh, she’s alright.” Wheezie scoffed, embracing you into a bigger hug that Rafe suddenly ruined.

You may have lost all privileges from the Cameron’s household but in this moment, you didn’t even care. You were happy that you stood up for your boyfriend, and extremely happy that Wheezie finally accepted you. It was definitely a night to remember, and you couldn’t wait until the next one.

If you get invited…

masterlist | TAGLIST

[tea-with-veth]

Hi guys, welcome to the first edition of The Tea Party, where I interview authors from the Minecraft Youtube fandom! Today’s guest is @squishyyyghost on Tumblr also known as  Ship_On_The_Sea on ao3 and Wattpad!

Tell us a bit about yourself! 

Well, my name really depends on who you know me as. Normally, I'm Squish, but people who know me for my dnf fics will recognize me as Ship. I go by she/they pronouns, and I'm most known for my dnf fics, notably 7 Minutes in Heaven, but it's 7 Days in Florida.

How'd you end up getting into the mcyt fandom?

Well, to be honest, I've been watching Minecraft Youtubers since about 2013; some of the first channels I subscribed to were actually Minecraft channels, believe it or not. The first fanfic I ever read was actually about mcyters. Despite that, I wasn't in the fandom then, I didn't even know what fandoms were back then. I think that honestly, I got into the mcyt fandom during the summer of 2020 after seeing a bunch of mcyters get recommended on my Youtube homepage and becoming invested in them, which led to me finding out about the mcyt fandom on Tumblr.

And then you started writing fics around the same time?

Not immediately. I got into a bunch around maybe April/May but didn't start writing fics until I got into the dream team at the end of May/early June.

What has been, in your opinion, one of the most rewarding things about writing for this fandom?

Well, I can think of two things, really. One is that this has been a great way for me to just write because I love doing it so much. The second is all of the positive feedback everyone leaves, it's been nothing like I've ever seen before. It's just incredible. I remember when I posted my first fic, I was so nervous but I was met with so much support even then. I think that honestly, the biggest reason I was able to write 7 Days to completion was because of all the support I was receiving from it since day 1 (both figuratively and in reference to the fic's chapter titles lmao). 

Okay, random question time: favorite flavor of tea? 

I... fam, I'm from the South- the only tea I've ever drunk has been iced and sweetened with sugar. My favorite drink is apple or grape juice though. My girlfriend loves tea though, I'm definitely going to try some when we meet up. We actually met bc of this fandom. She read 7 Days and followed me on Tumblr, and I recognized her Tumblr url from my ao3 comments and messaged her because I wanted to be friends, and it just kinda went from there. We just celebrated 6 months yesterday actually!

Congratulations! Speaking of your writing, is there something you've written that you'd like more people to read?

I feel like most of the oneshots I publish kinda fly under the radar for everyone because I think people just know me for 7 Days and don't realize I have other works, which is understandable. 

How long have you been doing creative writing, not just in the mcyt fandom? 

I started writing fics around 2016 because of a fandom I joined, so it's been almost five years of writing. Five years and I only have one completed fic, so it just kinda shows just how hard it has been for me to keep myself motivated. 

I've written so many oneshots though. I wish I didn't delete my other Wattpad account that had my writings from that fandom, I think the oneshot book I had for it had roughly 50 oneshots that were written over the span of about two years

Holy cow, that's a lot of words.

Definitely. I mean right now with my 19 fics on ao3 I have a collective word count of 86,448 words. 

Random fun fact, my fic "Thunder Singing Lullabies" was inspired  by one of the oneshots in the collection, the title of the original oneshot was actually "Sick Stormy Mornings."

Alright, we're almost done! Any parting thoughts/shoutouts?

Shout-out to my second home, SimpHous! Also please continue supporting us writers/artists, it's practically the fuel that keeps us going, lmao. 

You can find Squish’s writing at Ship_On_The_Sea. And as always, if you have suggestions for The Tea Party, including authors you’d like to see interviewed, let me know! Thank you, everyone, and have a lovely day!