#anyways i got a free drink so hype

[this-doesnt-endd]

Seated for the karate kid

[warping-realities]

A Night in the Devil's Den - Part I

“I still think we should hit up somewhere else, Jamie. There are tons of bars that would look the other way and let us grab a few drinks.” One of the three young men passing through New York during college break said as they made their way to the old building housing the Devil’s Den, apparently the most hyped club in the city, which had a strict policy of keeping anyone under 21 out.

“Stop being such a fag, Fred! We’re gonna get in, trust me, man of little faith.” Jamie, the group leader with light brown hair, same color as Mark, shot back. Fred, on the other hand, was blond, and more sensitive, which didn’t mean he couldn’t hold his own when it came to arguing; on the contrary, the debate skills of the former debate team captain were legendary.

“Chill, Fred. The worst that can happen is the bouncer looks at the IDs that Jamie’s buddy hooked us up with and realizes we don’t have the right age and kicks us out. But I doubt that’ll happen; in a few months, we’ll all be 21.” Mark commented, always the peacemaker.

“Another reason to wait until we’re actually of age. I don’t want any trouble, guys.” Fred tried to argue again.

“I can’t believe you came all the way here to chicken out, man. If you wanna bail, I’m cool, but think about all the work I put into getting these IDs. And I didn’t even charge you guys!” Jamie grumbled.

“That’s just because your buddy did it for free, asshole. Who the hell is he, anyway?” Mark jumped in before things got heated between the two.

“Some dude I met at the hostel; he’s the one who told me about this place. Apparently, this is the spot for anyone looking for a good time.”

“You mean you trusted someone you barely know? Doesn’t that seem kinda sketchy to you?” Fred asked, outraged, totally shooting down Mark’s efforts.

“I’m sick of your attitude, man! If you’re so unhappy, why don’t you just head back to the hostel?”

“Hey, hey, chill out, you two! We’re here to have a good time! Fred, let’s check out the place, and if we don’t like it or they kick us out, we’ll head back to the hostel, and I promise I’ll be your wingman with those hot Italian chicks who showed up yesterday, alright? And Jamie, you dumbass, he’s not entirely wrong; it was pretty stupid to trust a stranger, but it’s done now, so let’s just try to have fun, please?” Mark chimed in again.

“Fine, but you know that your parents would kill us if anything goes south, Mark.” Warne Fred, whose parents had already passed away, and, in Jamie’s opinion, was the last one who should be worried instead of acting like a little pussy. Not that he’d say that, at least not now that his buddy finally decided to man up.

“Finally acting like a man, Fred, and not like a little bitch!”

“Hey, man, that’s enough!”

“Chill out, Mark; you’re starting to sound like your dad. Sorry, Fredster, I just want an unforgettable night with my best buds.” Jamie said, hugging Fred on one side to encourage him while Mark did the same on the other.

As they approached the ridiculously long entrance line, Jamie commented.

“Since we’re talking about those hot Italian girls, it’s funny that if we were in most other countries, we wouldn’t even need to convince Fred here; we’d all be of age to drink until we drop without a care in the world.”

“I don’t think your dad would be too happy about hauling his kid from the gutter.” Mark remarked.

“He’s not as strict as your dad, man, but yeah… maybe it’s best not to push it. Damn, look at this line! No way I’m waiting all this crap! Oh, wait, I just remembered something; follow me!” Jamie said, signaling for his friends to follow him to the front of the line, where a huge black guy, looking like a muscle mountain, was running the door, checking IDs and occasionally greeting a buddy with a half-smile in his otherwise stern face. He saw the guys approaching and crossed his arms, giving them a menacing smirking look.

“Hey, fellas, what do you want here?”

“Good evening, sir! Jerome told us to go straight to the bouncer at the main door and, said… said that he hopes you have a… a hell of a night.” Jamie said, sounding unsure for the first time.

“Jerome, huh? IDs?”

“Here you go, sir.” Mark replied, handing over the fake IDs, which the guy scrutinized for a few seconds.

“Any problem, sir?”

“Nope, on the contrary, looks like you guys got VIP passes. Jerome must’ve liked you a lot.” He said while fiddling with a walkie-talkie before speaking again. “Jerome’s group is on the way.” He radioed someone before handing the IDs back to the guys and cracking a smile. “Boys, looks like we’re all in for a hell of a night!”

As they stepped into the spacious lobby, the guys were hit with the sounds of music and excited screams, along with flashing lights. And the most impressive thing of all was a guy with olive skin, well-groomed beard and black hair, and a distinctive aquiline nose that hinted at some mediterranean ir middle eastern heritage. But what really stood out about the guy was his stunning build, partially covered by a sharp suit and shiny black pants, with his muscular torso on display for anyone who wanted to see, staring at them with disconcerting eyes and a mischievous grin that made the three feel like they were really inside the Devil’s Den.

“Dude, they really know how to set a mood.” Jamie remarked, eyeing the imposing figure. “Alright, first drinks, then we hit the dance floor for the hot chicks!”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna hit the bathroom; my bladder’s about to explode!” Fred said.

“Then it’s a wonder you didn’t piss yourself from fear before we even got in.”

“Go fuck yourself, Jamie!” he shot back, irritated, as he blended into the crowd on the dance floor.

“You really can’t pass up a chance to be an idiot, can you?” Mark commented, following his other friend through the crowd. “Let me talk to him; you do something useful and grab the drinks. You know a few shots will loosen him up.”

“It’s not my fault he needs booze to stop being a little bitch.” Jamie yelled to be heard over the noise, turning heads with expressions of disbelief toward him, but he was too hyped about the night’s promises to notice, heading for the nearest bar, closely followed by the sinister figure from the entrance. It wasn’t until he reached the bar that he noticed the company.

“Hello, James.” The man said over the cacophony, though his voice didn’t need to rise for Jamie to hear him.

“How do you know my name?” Jamie shouted back.

“Jerome gave me a heads-up about your arrival; I’m Mr. Shay the manager of this place. And I know you shouldn’t be here tonight, kid.”

“Damn… then why didn’t you stop us at the door?”

“Because I understand the need for a young man to rebel. Especially when his dad is such a major buzzkill.” The man said with bright eyes.

“I… he just wants what’s best for me… a decent job for a real man and… and sometimes it’s a drag.” Jamie replied in a whisper, not realizing the man knew way more about him than he should.

“Oh, I get it, kid, and just when you finally have a chance to chill, your friends leave you hanging.”

“Pussies!” The kid grumbled, not seeing the man’s eyes flash dangerously.

“You seem to have a problem with gay people. What’s that about?”

“I don’t have a problem with gays; I have issues with little faggots, those sissy boys who take it up the ass like they’re chicks. My dad raised me to be a real man.”

“But it’s tough living under the weight of other people’s expectations, under the rigid standards taught by someone, isn’t it? Sometimes all you wanna do is chill out, let loose, and be happy, right? And have your friends be able to enjoy that with you.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, it’s settled! Poncho, a shot of tequila for my buddy here.” The man said as the spell seemed to break while he glided through the crowd with ease, almost floating, and for an instant if one looked closely one would catch a glimpse of his true form.

Still a bit dazed, Jamie turned to the bar and bumped into a Latino guy in his late thirties, with a chiseled, muscular chest completely exposed except for a bow tie around his neck, sipping a drink while the shot of tequila the other guy ordered was held in his hand.

“On the house.” The guy said with a smile. Without thinking twice, Jamie downed the shot.

“Nice one, hermano.” The man commented, grinning.

“Gracias, tio.” Jamie replied, smiling as he left the bar with a dreamy look.

There was definitely something extra in that tequila, Jamie’s rational side thought, a side that seemed to shrink more every minute. He wandered aimlessly through the crowd, seeing colors and smelling scents he’d never experienced before, while that rational side tried in vain to shout inside his head, drowned out by an overwhelming numbness.

“Mierda, que guapo…” he murmured in Spanish, watching a muscular guy dancing shirtless. Without even stopping to think how out of character that was for him.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, with an unspeakable desire taking hold of him, making him vibrate and tremble inside he made his way toward the guy, and just like that, in the blink of an eye, Javier, the latino 21 years old man, approached the older man.

“Hey, papi, want some company?” He asked with a vacant look and dreamy voice that the other guy didn’t seem to notice, and in a few seconds, they were both dancing to the rhythm of the music.

“So, kid, where you from?”

“Right here, raised in El Barrio.” Javier answered.

“But where did your family come from?”

“My grandparents came with my dad and my uncles from Colombia in the early 90s. Maybe you know my uncle. He works as a bartender here; they call him Poncho, even though he’s not Mexican, but he says he doesn’t care.”

“Oh, so that’s why a kid like you is in here.” The man commented.

“I’ll show you who’s the kid.” Javier replied, kissing the man, who returned the kiss with passion.

Neither of them seemed to notice that the kid’s shirt seemed to evaporate in the air or the inches he gained in height or the facial hair sprouting on his face. After a long moment of pleasure, the two pulled away.

“So, papi, am I man enough for you?” Javi asked with a grin, while the other guy stared at him, breathless.

“Now I gotta bounce; my shift’s about to start!” Javi said, walking with a smile toward the bar. His muscles growing and expanding into an athletic, well-proportioned physique, with just the bow tie of his uniform to cover up.

“Hey, you didn’t even tell me your name, boy!”

“If you want to find me, just head to the bar. And don’t call me boy; do I look like a kid to you?” He replied, flexing his muscles. Only a man could call him that, and that certainly wasn’t this one.

When he got to the bar, his uncle greeted him with a smile but also with a warning.

“If your dad finds out about this…”

“What my dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him, tio. Plus, next year I’ll be graduating, and the boss is gonna put me to work in accounting, although I think I’ll still take a few shifts with you just for fun.”

“Javi, you really don’t get it, do you? If not your dad, then because of that musclehead you’re seeing.”

“It’s his fault for not showing up yet. And right when the main attraction’s about to start.” He said, looking at the club’s stage lighting up. “Though to him no attraction compares to my ass.” He concluded with a grin.

[prettygiri222]

Handle Me, Who Gon Handle Me?

Summary: you wanted to be fuck nigga free but Ony had different plans...

Ony x Black Fem Reader SMUT

“girl go talk to him.” your girlfriend said as she nudged your shoulder. you don’t even need to turn around to know who she’s talking about. the second you entered the party, a harsh gaze was glued to you, undressing you. it didn’t help that you barely had any clothes on but you were starting to shiver.

“i’m good, i don’t want to deal with any niggas tonight,” you said as you made up your face. no matter how fine the 6’4 darkskin with the taper fade, gold chain that matched his grills, and the pearly white tee and sweatpants combo where his dick pri- no! tonight was a nigga free night.

“let’s get some drinks. i’m tryna get fucked up!” you tried to switch the subject. you had just gotten out of a 4 year relationship after you found out your highschool sweetheart had been cheating on you. so you just wanted to go out and have some fun with ur bestie. something you haven't done in a while.

after a couple of drink you and your gf finally hit the floor. “shake that ass hoe!” she screamed out as you bent over. Sexxy Red was blaring on the speakers so you know you had to act out. 

your ex would’ve been throwing a fit if he saw you right now. he always preached about how women should be respectable and how you were one of the only “good ones.” you should’ve noticed the red flags before you caught him dicking down the girl he promised was like a sister to him.

your ass was gonna be all over snap in the morning with the way you were throwing it. girls and guys behind you were tryna catch it before a stubborn grip found it’s way behind you.

“damn ma” a deep voice said behind you. you looked up at your friend and she was giving you the thumbs up, that told you all you need to know before ur hands hit the floor.

“YES BITCH!” the music was loud but ur friend was louder and one thing she was gonna do was hype you up.

“damn, hold on ma” the tight grip on ur hips seized. you took it as your chance to get up and turn around. turns out you’ve been dancing on the fine darkskin from before.

“what? can’t handle this?” you sassed. you wouldn’t have had the nerve to say this sober much less act out like this, but liquor was your liquid courage. 

you didn’t miss the chance to check him out, eyeing him up and down before reaching to his eyes. they were red asf, and if that wasn’t your sign, he was high it was the way the smell of weed mixed with his cologne, creating a delicious scent that made you weak in the knees.

he checked you out with no concern in the world, eye fucking you in the middle of the party. “nah, i’m tryna get us out of here.” he spoke in that husky voice of his.

“i'm good” you said with fake nonchalance, his lowered gaze made you feel as if he could see right through you. “you wouldn’t be able to hand me anyways.” you quickly added looking away.

---

“w-wait!” you choked out. you reached backwards hopping it’ll slow him but he just slapped your hand away.

“don’t run away. you said i couldn’t handle you right?” after your sly little comment the man you learned as Onyankopon wasted no time having you spread out in the back of his blacked out hellcat.

“was lying.” it was like he wasn’t even listening to you. the second you got to the car, he had you ass up face down. you didn’t even have time to take off ur skirt he just pushed it up past your ass and pulled your thong to side. your tits falling out of your shirt cause you went braless.

“mhm.” he groans out deeply. he was drilling your shit hard, you don’t even remember how many times you came but he didn’t show signs of slowing.

“m sorry” you were crying at this point. he was wayyy bigger than ur ex, you've never been stretched you out like this. “Ony?” you whimpered as his thrusts begun to slow down before he removed it completely. he flipped you over on your back inserting himself back in one thrust.

“look at me when i’m fucking you ma’ or imma stop foreal.” he grabbed your jaw with one hand forcing you to look at him. your jaw was slacked as breathless moans left your mouth, your eyes were too hazed out to focus on him.

“look at me ma” he said softly as he lightly slapped your cheeks. you felt your orgasm building up more intensely than the last. you looked up at him, and the sight was enough to almost make you come again. Ony was above you shirtless, his chain dangling inches above your face, his sweat made him glisten in the dimlight.

“Onyyy s-slow down” you were pushing his stomach trying to squirm away from the onslaught of thrusts. he gripped your wrists and held them above your head with one hand and the other forced ur leg up beside your head.

“fuck that running shit ma’, you’re going to take. this. dick.” Ony was hammering into you at this point, you couldn’t even breath. your vision was going black as your orgasm approached.

“Ony!”

“I know ma’ give me a sec” Ony was chasing his release and felt himself come undone as you squeezed him, hard. “f-fuck ma’ come with me, please.” he begged.

he didn’t have to tell you twice, you both came together, bodies shaking as you reached climaxed. he rested his forehead on yours as you both came down from your high.

“think I did more than handle you ma” he said as he looked down, noticing the soaking mess you made on his red seats. “think you gon have to pay for it.” he said, smirking down at you.

[toshidou]

woe to the deer who is courted by the wolf . . .

pairing // könig x f!reader

word count // 7.2k

tags // 18+ ONLY, afab reader, vampire!könig, predator/prey kink, mentions of blood and injury, minor elements of horror (very minor), slightly misunderstood lonely vampire könig, unprotected sex, stomach bulge, rough sex, creampie, biting, blood sucking, blood play

an // after battling with writers block for over a month, who would have thought it'd take a blood sucking giant to free me from the shackles of having no inspiration? anyway this is the most i've ever written in one day, which is only slightly concerning. bone apple teeth!

thank you to @erosology for beta reading this, and forever being my number one hype man ;-;

Pale moonlight peaks through a frame of eerily still clouds, reflecting off the polished black steel planted in the ground at your feet. You can hear the whispers of your friends behind you, a little too old to be snickering and giggling behind the palms of their hands, although you’re entirely too old to have taken their bet in the first place. 

It started off as a simple reunion between old friends, a short trek into once familiar woods to the spot you used to set up base for the night, roasting marshmallows over a concerningly large campfire, sharing cliche horror stories whilst swaddled in blankets. This very night had gone about the same, until someone brought up the old manor. An imposing house that watches over the village that surrounds it, well kept and suspiciously pristine, withstanding the tests of time despite the fact that not a single soul has ever been seen to enter or leave the premises. 

It had been a longstanding dare, an easy way to get someone to down their drink, ‘I dare you to jump the fence and knock on the door’. No one has ever been stupid enough to go through with it, a couple tried, but got as far as the black iron that surrounds the perimeter before they gave up. And yet, here you stand, too many years later, an individual who should be both older and wiser than to commit several crimes for the sake of a stupid bet and childish curiosity, staring at that very same railing. 

You can hardly hear the whispered words of your friends from where they cower behind you, your eyes transfixed on the looming building that seemingly stares back at you from where you remain fixed at the bottom of the hill. Mahogany brick unblemished, barely touched by weather, towers three stories high, trimmed ivy crawling up the walls as though attempting to reach out to the moon that watches over it. Each window is blocked by scarlet wooden shutters, an old-fashioned touch for a house surrounded by new builds; looking at it now feels like taking several steps back in time. 

Not a single spec of light leaks through any crack in the shutters, each room bathed in darkness, the same way it always has. Surely, you think to yourself, surely no one can possibly be in there. Your theory has always been that the house is long since abandoned, its previous owner having died, looked after by a previously employed caretaker who hated to watch a building they loved go into disrepair. And although that doesn’t explain the suspicious lack of activity, it’s the only sane thought that you repeat to yourself as your fingers curl around sturdy black bars, and you begin to haul yourself over the iron fence. 

A moment later, and the dull thud of your feet hitting neatly trimmed grass breaks tense silence, your eyes meeting with several widened pairs through steel bars. It’s the furthest anyone’s gotten, and even now, you feel like you’ve gone far enough. It’s certainly not too late to change your mind, to do the sensible thing and throw yourself back into safety, and just as you’re contemplating backing out of the bet, you feel the hairs on your nape stand on end, a chill down your spine so sharp it causes a physical flinch. When you turn around, you’re met with the very same house, not a shutter or brick out of place, yet something, somehow, feels different. 

It’s like a siren call, luring you from the safety of your friends that remain frozen on the other side, hardly breathing as though they daren’t make a sound, apprehensive eyes focused on your shadowed form as you slowly make your way up the hill. It’s more daunting up close, no longer a silhouette against a twilight sky, now you can see details the distance has never gifted you, the way the wood shutters that plaster the windows are carved with swirls and intricate patterns, how the ivy hides bloomed flowers amongst pointed leaves, speckles of pink and purple that ease the tension that coils your muscles, only bolstering timid curiosity. And now you’re standing within feet of the house, you’re left in awe by the sheer size of it. It never seemed particularly small, not even from the gate, but the front door alone has you gulping down nothing but frigid air. You take a few tentative steps, eyes raking over the magnificent details carved into thick black oak, the centrepiece that catches your gaze being the solid gold knocker that sits just above your head, halfway up the door. 

Two hollow eyes stare back at you, a skull with two rams horns that curl from golden bone, and between its bared teeth lies a ring that rests against ebony wood. It stands out from every other detail of the house, a spine-tingling reminder of where you stand, echoes of the myths that surround this house whispered by your trembling conscience, and yet shaking fingers reach for the ring, curling around cooled metal before lifting it, preparing to knock. 

But you never get the chance, because in true horror movie fashion, you’re met with the slow creak of old hinges as the very door you stand before begins to open, and in the void of black it reveals, you swear you see two pinpricks of red that greet you in the darkness. Your entire body goes stiff, still clinging on to the gold loop of the knocker as though it’ll somehow ground you, yet it does nothing to chase away the overwhelming sense of impending doom that screams at you to turn, to run, to get as far away from this wretched place as your legs can take you.

You turn just in time to hear the worried calls of your friends before the door is yanked wide open, dragging you over the edge of the premises with it and sending you careening onto the floor, sliding against wood and scrambling up only to watch that very same door slam in your face. 

Frozen. Every single part of you remains stock still as you try to adjust to the darkness. Not even the moonlight dares follow you inside, leaving you alone to dart your eyes in the pitch black, searching for some semblance of light you can latch onto. Yet the house offers you nothing, and you can’t help but see red dots every time you dare close your eyes. In the moment of still you’ve been given, your brain reels as it tries to think of a logical explanation for the door seemingly dragging you into the house with no human in sight to operate it, and in your panic, you can’t help but pray that you’ve fallen asleep by the campfire, and this is all an elaborate nightmare you’ll be able to laugh about when you awake.

A creak from behind you sends you hurtling back into reality, a sure reminder that this is no nightmare, not one you can wake up from, at least. Your head whips to the side, terror freezing your muscles solid as you lock onto crimson orbs once again, so bright they can be seen even with the absence of light to reflect off them, your blood curdling in your veins as they remain fixed on you, unblinking. You scurry backwards, the sound of your back slamming against the solid wall behind you echoing through the dark, fingers curling against peeling wallpaper in a last-ditch attempt to find the door handle. 

Your pathetic scrabbling is interrupted by the harsh sound of a match striking against rough material, your eyes drawn to the responding flame it produces, but moreso, the large fingers that dwarf the stick they clutch. 

“What a curious thing you are.”

Each syllable rumbles through very walls, practically shakes the structure of the house, a low timber steeped with an accent you can’t quite place, but certainly isn’t local. You daren’t breathe, let alone move, not even when the ground creaks and shakes with every purposeful, creeping step the stranger takes towards you. The flame grows as the match is brought to a wick, the flame whittling away the wood until all that remains is twisted charcoal, before transferring to the candle, the dying fire roaring back to life, casting a flickering golden glow onto the one holding it. 

You’re met once again with red, but now you can see bleached tear tracks running from shoddy holes cut into black cloth, a mask fit for the monster that wears it, and as they stalk ever closer, you belatedly wonder how they’re going to navigate the stairs that must separate the two of you, certain that even someone familiar with a house must need more light in order to not fall. But they never begin their descent, and it’s only when the flame lies mere feet from you, yet so far out of your reach, you realise there are no steps. You’re face to face with a giant. 

Adrenaline douses you like a torrent of water, your widened eyes alert and stricken with obvious fear, yet you didn’t expect the gentle touch that encircles your wrist, lungs sucking in a stuttered breath as you stare into the hollow red of its eyes. Large fingers draw your arm upwards, moving your frozen limb with ease, until it’s stretched far above your head, your fingers bumping against the smooth wax of the candle the giant passes off to you. Your brain scrambles for words, screams against the shackles of your fear-addled mind, waiting to release a slew of incoherent pleas for your freedom, yet your lips remain firmly sealed.

You feel a weight in your trouser pocket, eyes darting down to see his fingers pushing a box of matches into the gap of the material, only for your gaze to snap back to him as he hunches down, the material of his mask flowing down as his torso towers over you. You’re left caged against the wall, nowhere to run as his face levels next to your ear. It’s silent for a few horrific seconds, until that same spine-chilling voice purrs one single word. 

“Run.” 

It’s as though all your body needed was the instruction, responding immediately as you tear away from him, feet slapping against hardwood flooring as you careen towards what vaguely resembles an entrance way. The flame flickers dangerously, threatening to leave you in the dark once again, your fingers curling around the candle, whispering prayers that it doesn’t snuff out, that it doesn't leave you alone with whatever stalks you in the pitch black. 

You don’t stop running until you reach a hallway, sprinting down the claustrophobic corridor until you finally reach an open door, rushing inside and pushing hefty wood until it clicks in place, sealing you within, safe for now. You hold up the candle to illuminate more of the room, watching as the soft glow bounces off a glinting gold frame and painstaking strokes of oil paint. An obscenely large portrait hangs on the wall in front of you, the image of a handsome man draped in fine purple robes, shoulder length brown hair pushed back with a crown of golden leaves. He sits in a chair, grand and crimson, lined with bronze, legs spread over the expensive velvet, one large hand curled over his thigh, the other propping his head up, his elbow resting against the arm of the chair in a way that can only be described as unbothered, and unamused. But the thing that has you utterly transfixed are the two red irises that stare right back at you, playful and taunting, and hauntingly familiar. 

Surely this isn’t the man under the hood, the one who dragged you into his house and watched you scramble out of his grip the second he told you to flee. Because why would a man so handsome hide his face? Why would someone who looks so young own a house that has stood at the centre of your small village for far longer than you’ve been alive? Nothing seems to make sense, not a single aspect of the past 10 minutes feels real, and you can only hope your friends saw what happened and ran to get help, because you’re not sure there’s a way for you to conquer this man alone. It’s as you’re floundering for answers that you hear a noise from outside the room, instincts taking over as you quickly hide under a small dining table and blow out the candle, praying you haven’t given yourself away. 

You’re not entirely stupid, you know the meaning of red eyes, and although you could attempt to soothe your psyche with whispered lies about contact lenses and make believe, you know better. The thing that chases you is no man, and certainly isn’t human, at least not anymore. And as terrified as you are, there isn’t a chance in hell you’re about to let yourself become this monster’s dinner. 

You sit in the darkness, clutching the smouldering candle to your chest, and wait. Ears alert as you listen for the slightest sound that might give away your hunter, a breath, a sigh, a scratch, you do little more than hope that your hiding spot remains occupied by you, and you alone. 

After a tense few minutes, picking up on no other sounds than the thrumming of your own heart, your fingers slowly make their way to your pocket, gingerly plucking the box out and pushing the case off. Despite the lack of light, and the trembling that consumes your body, you manage to fish out a match, and strike it, holding the newly lit flame to the wick of the candle. 

Bleached tears. Red eyes. Large fingers. Looming body.

“Boo.” 

The scream rips from your throat before your brain can catch up, the candle abandoned as it’s flung towards him in a last ditch attempt to throw him off, knees and hands protesting as they’re dragged along grooved wood, leaving grazes in their wake. The momentary pain isn’t enough to stop you, however, lungs heaving as you tear out of the room, clumsily bumping into walls and ornaments, impeded by the dark, motivated by sheer determination to live. 

Your decision to toss away the candle comes to bite you firmly in the ass the second you find yourself tumbling down a set of stairs, and in a move of sheer instinct your hands attempt to slow your fall, only for the skin of your palm to get caught on a loose nail, slicing the flesh and leaving you wailing as your body finally slows to a stop against the cold stone floor you now find yourself lying on. Every bone in your body hurts, aches, but is overshadowed by the sharp sear of white hot pain as you cradle your torn skin to your chest, warm rivulets of blood oozing down your wrist, tracking rivers of red down your forearm until you hear the steady drip, drip, drip of your blood hitting stone.

A light appears above you, a halo of pastel yellow emanating around black cloth, and within a second, the fight leaves you, slumping further into the floor as you accept your death, hoping none of your friends were stupid enough to follow you only to meet the same pitiful fate. 

“Please,” You mumble, voice finally found, entirely too late, “Just make it quick.” You hear little other than a hushed chuckle in response, a cat toying with its food. 

“I imagine it looks worse than it is, kleine maus.” 

You pause at that, curiosity ebbing through once more. You may not have paid enough attention to languages at school, but even in your state, you know enough to recognise those words.

“You’re German?” You mumble, fear forgotten in your shock-ridden state. The man shakes his head as he crouches next to you, extending his free hand towards the injured one you have secured to your torso, tittering again as you flinch. But you have little other choice than to let him pry your hand away, watching with wary eyes as he examines your sliced skin. He holds the candle closer to the wound, a soft tut passing his lips before he holds the candle towards you, urging you to take it with a gentle nod. 

“Austrian. But close.”

It all feels strange, foreign, as though you’re being lulled into a false sense of security just so he can tell you to run once again, laughing maniacally as he watches you bleed over his floor. The fear returns once you have the candle securely in your grip, eyes locked on the way his fingers curl around the material that hides his face, and begin to remove it. Inches of once cloaked skin is revealed, a defined chin melts away to pursed lips, a smattering of dark facial hair that frames his mouth and curls up his jaw, the material pulled further only to reveal a hooked nose, and two narrowed eyes that reflect the candlelight in a way not dissimilar to precious gems, rich and vibrant. Maybe it’s the shock, or limited blood loss, but you can’t help but marvel at just how pretty he is.

Of course, it doesn’t last much longer, not when survival instincts kick in, the realisation that your bloodied hand is now near the mouth of a creature that lives entirely off the thing that keeps you alive. But the grip on your wrist is ironclad, strong yet not uncomfortably so, a strange juxtaposition between monster and man as he cocks his head at your wound. With a nod, seemingly more to himself than you, you can do little more than cry out as you’re hauled over his shoulder, his arm secured tightly around your waist, the hood forgotten in a small puddle of your blood on the stone flags. 

It’s mere minutes later that he places you down on soft sheets, your body sinking into a plush mattress, left to watch him as he ambles around the egregiously large room, muttering foreign words under his breath as he roots through an ornate chest of draws. You must be in a fever dream, unsure how you went from running for your life, to being patched up by the very thing you were certain would kill you. And yet, here you are, watching as he almost awkwardly sidles to your seated figure, and kneels in front of you, once predatory eyes unable to hold your gaze as he sets out various medical items by your feet. 

“Your hand, may I see it?”

You present your palm to him, watching as his eyebrows knit together, giant hands placing tentative touches against your skin as though he’s concerned about hurting you, the thought of which does nothing to aid your spiralling confusion. But you say nothing, you simply watch as he takes a damp cloth and begins cleaning your cut, fixated on the way his eyes snap to you with every pained hiss and suppressed whine, picking up on the way he ensures each subsequent touch is a tad gentler than the last. It’s not too much longer until he’s wrapping your hand with bandages, making sure the gauze is tight enough to keep your blood in, but not enough to cut off circulation, the type of gentle care you never would have suspected from the giant at your feet. Your curiosity has increased tenfold, not a trace of fear left to lick at your nerves and render you speechless, replaced only by the overwhelming need to know more, to learn everything. 

“What’s your name?” 

It’s his turn to freeze, ruby irises briefly flitting to yours, rounded with surprise, before they snap back down, making himself busy as he gathers up a scattered array of bloodied cloth. 

“I… I have had many. The one most people knew me by was König.” It’s strange, the croon of his voice sounds almost nothing like the one whispered to you in the dark, from low and horrifying, to gentle, almost timid. You’re nothing short of fascinated, leaning forward as you scan over the contours of his face. 

“Why’d you drag me into your house and tell me to run?” 

“Why were you trying to knock on my door?”

Touché. 

Heat licks at the skin of your cheeks at his brazen reminder of your attempted trespassing, your uninjured hand coming to rub at your neck in lieu of a response. After a moment of silence, he sighs, deflating into the plush carpet below. 

“It has been a while since I last had any visitors. Your arrival was… Unexpected. You caught me off guard,” He pauses for a moment, pupils dilating as his fingers curl around the rags he holds in his hand, covered in your blood, “It has been even longer since I have been around fresh blood.” It feels surreal to have it confirmed, that the creature that sits before you is one you’ve seen only in movies and read in far-fetched romance novels. Yet, you feel no fear, that emotion all but vanished the second he halted everything just to care for an intruder's wound.

“My friends dared me to knock.” He cocks his head at that, a single eyebrow arching, bemused at your admission. “It’s been a dare for years, no one ever actually had the guts to do it.” 

“Until you.”

A pause, your head dipping forward in an unsure nod.

“Until me.” 

He’s staring at you unabashedly now, your eyes wandering over the rich details of the bedroom you reside in as an excuse to save yourself from his piercing gaze, an unreadable expression swimming in carmine eyes. 

“I am glad it was you.” 

You hate the embers of arousal that spark at his words, perturbed by your body’s reaction to seemingly innocent words spoken from a man you were sprinting away from less than an hour ago, and yet his eyes do nothing to put out the fire, intense and smouldering. You can’t bring yourself to look away, nor to quash the way your heart flutters as his torso leans closer to your thighs that subconsciously part to make room for him. The action doesn’t go unnoticed, nostrils flaring as sharp eyes zero in on the way your legs spread against silk sheets. 

“And why is that, König?” 

It’s as though you uttering his name opens the floodgates, black engulfing vermillion until only a sliver remains, thick fingers circling your shins as he leers further into the gap your parted thighs created, that same ravening stare that once sent fear trickling down your spine now leaves you gasping for breath for an entirely different reason. 

“Because I haven’t seen something as pretty as you for a very long time, and I don’t know if I have the strength to stop myself again, maus.” 

You couldn’t prevent the whispered whine of his name if you had tried, eyelashes fluttering as you move to curl your fingers in his shirt, giving pathetic little tugs to the soft material of his silk shirt, eyes dipping down to where loose material tucks into black pants. Your back arches, a shameless display of desire as you slide your body closer towards the edge of the bed, and further into his touch.

“Who said anything about stopping?”

Your words remain suspended in the air around you, two sets eyes locked onto each other, blown black with barely-suppressed lust, and yet you don’t dare to make the first move, waiting, wanting for him to shed his timid skin and swallow you whole, become the beast that stalked you through rooms just to feel the thrill of the chase. His hands leave your legs, instead balling up into tight fists against his own thighs, the skin around his knuckles taut as though restraining himself. For a mere moment, you fear he may have changed his mind, that is until he utters the word you craved to hear.

“Run.” 

You ignore the lingering ache in your joints, your thighs burning as you dash from the bedroom with renewed purpose, fuelled by the all-consuming thoughts of what’s to come, excited to finally be caught, a far cry from the unbridled terror that sent you scrambling before. This time, he makes no effort to prowl in the shadows, your heart beat soaring as the loud thuds of footsteps echo from behind, the floorboards quaking under your feet from the force of his steps. 

You know there isn’t a chance he’s running at full speed, but even then he catches you almost embarrassingly quickly, built arms encircling your waist and crushing you against his torso, bringing you to the floor in an instant, leaving you to writhe helplessly between his body and the floorboards. You don’t give in, however, limbs thrashing, nails clawing against whatever they can reach, whether it be the arms that pin you down, or the wood underneath you, feigning an attempt to escape. 

That is until you feel two sharp points dig into your nape, not enough to break skin, but the threat of it leaves you frozen under him, a doe caught in the wolf’s jaws. But you don’t fear the bite like wild prey would, somehow, you crave it, to feel his teeth sink into you, to let him lap at your blood and drain you near dry, anything just to feel like you’re his. 

The pressure of sharpened canines begins to lessen, his teeth slowly peeling back from your skin, although anticipating your body to begin thrashing once again. But you remain subdued, the embers now engulfed by crackling flames that lick at your nerves and set your skin alight. It’s only when his hips shift do you feel the tent in his pants pushing against the top of your thighs, your eyes fluttering shut as you push your ass down to grind shamelessly against his cock. 

“Temptress,” The word is almost incomprehensible through the growl that reverberates through his throat, a sound that gives away entirely how affected he is, rough and wanting. “You should be trembling beneath me from fear and yet…” 

His words trail off, a stuttered gasp replaces your heavy breathing when you feel sizeable fingers trailing down your sides before sliding under your body, cupping your inner thigh. Your heart hammers against your ribcage from the chase, now bolstered by the scandalous touch as his fingers skim past your clothed core, only catching onto the way his fingers curl into the material until it’s too late, hardly leaving you enough time to yelp before he’s tearing you bare below him. The tattered remains of your pants are haphazardly discarded, joined soon by the threadbare silk of your ripped panties, one of your favourite pairs torn in half with hardly an ounce of effort. 

“Yet here you are, schätzchen, quivering with need, dripping for the cock of the one that hunts you.” 

The rough pad of calloused fingers swipes against your exposed cunt, unable to suppress the heady whine that leaks past your agape lips, your forehead meeting the hardwood floor with a soft thump. That single touch renders you limp, muscles going lax as you melt into the glide of his fingers as they tease your folds, slowing on every up-stroke to rub slow circles against your clit. It’s maddening, the pace in which he picks you apart, leaving you to grind on his fingers like a wanton whore just to feel the surmounting pleasure that builds in response to his touch. A tut sounds from above, heavy breath cascading over your nape as his head dips down, lips dragging from neck to the shell of your ear.

“What a desperate little thing you are, maus, you know what we call things like you in my native tongue?” Your head shakes, a breathy ‘no’ muffled into the floor, “Schwanzschlampe, cock slut.” Embarrassment mixes in equal measure with arousal, curling one of your arms under your head to hide your face, the action short lived as strong arms flip you onto your back, one large hand gathering both your wrists together and pinning them above your head, exposed before him in every way. It’s undeniably more intimate in this position, your eyes given little other option than to lock onto his as his other hand continues to tease your dripping cunt, carmine swimming with unrestrained desire pinning you to the floor as effectively as his near crushing grip on your wrists.

“You can’t hide your pretty face from me, liebling, I want to see how much you crave my touch.” He presses his forehead to yours, low candlelight from lamps that line the corridor walls glint off the two long fangs that peak past reddened lips with every word spoken. And it’s seemingly your turn to catch him off guard, your head tilting upwards to push your lips to his, swallowing his surprised gasp down greedily, arching your chest to push against his. The kiss is desperate, messy, a combination of saliva drips down your chin, moans and rumbled grunts creating a symphony that drifts down the winding halls of his home. With a nudge, you ensure his eyes are locked to yours as you part your lips, your tongue curling over his teeth before brushing over the point of his elongated canine. 

With a push, you feel the sting as his fang just barely dips into soft flesh, a drop of blood beading at the surface before you push the muscle to his, locked onto the way his eyes roll to the back of his skull, the growl momentarily starting up again before his lips lock around your tongue, sucking at every morsel of blood that springs from the pinprick cut like a man starved. A man that has most likely been starved of blood directly from the source for more years that you’ve been alive. 

If you thought that you’d unlocked the beast within him before, the taste of your blood brings out an entirely new side. His lips part from yours, the crimson in his frenzied eyes transforming before you, as though enriched from just a taste of warm iron. You watch as his pupils dilate and constrict, each push and pull between black and red prove hypnotic as his eyes slowly begin to refocus, the colour to his irises seem dull in comparison to the bright vermillion flecked with gold that peers down at you, still wild with hunger, driven by need. 

The moment is broken mere seconds later when his head drops to your neck, sharpened teeth dragging along the throbbing pulse at the base of your throat, and just when you expect the bite, you’re left gasping for an entirely unrelated reason as your shirt comes apart against sharp enamel, shredded where it surrounds your naked torso, leaving you entirely bare. Yet all it takes is a singular glance to realise he remains fully dressed, not a single article shed. 

“König,” Your voice comes out strained, practically whining as though prepared to beg, “Let me undress you?” 

He pauses for a moment, eyes flicking up to you from under his lashes before the grip on your arms lessens, his legs folding under him as he rights himself into a kneeling position over your body. He suddenly seems unsure, maybe a little self-conscious as you lean up brushing your fingers over flowing pristine white silk, taking your time as you unfasten each button, never once letting your eyes stray from his. And despite the hint of bashfulness, he keeps his gaze pinned to you, a wary lion caught off guard by brave prey. 

After the last button falls undone, you let the tips of your fingers trace up revealed skin, before pushing the shirt from his shoulders, and watching as it billows onto the floor, exposing a defined chest highlighted by a smattering of scars that tell stories you could only dream of hearing. He’s nothing short of ethereal, otherworldly in every sense of the word, a behemoth of a beast, with the face of an angel. 

“You cover up a lot for a man as handsome as you are.” Your disguised question prompts a flinch, solid fingers clutching into fists at his side, but before you can rush to amend your words, he slumps, resigned to your curiosity. 

“I have garnered a reputation I do not wish to catch up to me. It is safer to keep myself hidden, maus.” You make a mental note if you somehow find yourself in his company after this night to ask him more, a carnal need to know everything that makes up the being knelt above you. But you tuck them away for now, refocusing your attention to the waistband of his trousers, deft fingers wasting little time undoing the silver clasp and dragging down the zip until the front peels open. 

“Good thing you don’t have to keep hidden in front of me, huh?” Your lips tug upwards into a playful smirk, your hands planting on the solid muscle of his chest before you’re pushing him backwards, letting his legs splay out either side of your now free body before easing both his pants and underwear down the corded muscle of his thigh, marvelling at each inch of skin revealed to ravenous eyes. His trousers join the crumpled mess of clothes that lay scattered across the floor, giving him no time to adjust to his new found nudity before your head is ducking down, tongue flitting out to lick a long strip from the base of his cock to the tip. 

Your enthusiasm is immediately rewarded with a faltered whine, watching from under your lashes as his head lolls backwards, trembling fingers coming to cup either side of your face. He’s big, his cock twitching against the defined muscle of his abdomen, thick and long, and nothing short of daunting. Yet you choose to focus on the way your pussy clenches around air at the mere sight of it, overwhelmed by the knowledge that you’ll understand what it is to be split open by him, to be fucked by him. Your tongue darts out once more to press against the tip, the small cut on the surface only just healed over, your spine shuddering at the dulled sting that follows as you begin to take the head of his cock between your lips, mouth stretched almost painfully around the girth. 

It does nothing to dissuade you, however, tears clouding your vision of his blissed out expression as you swallow him down deeper, hardly taking more than two inches before your throat spasms around him in protest, coaxing a throaty whimper from spit-shined lips that has your hand darting down to your clit, fingers rubbing desperate circles into soaked flesh. 

The following whine that reverberates around his cock swiftly gives you away, crimson eyes focusing in on the way your hand disappears between your thighs, before flitting back to the way your watering eyes remain locked to his, hissing out several curses in German at the sight of your lips wrapped around his straining cock. 

“Your mouth… Gott, your fucking mouth,” strong fingers guide your head off his cock, your lips separating from the tip with a lewd pop, strings of saliva and pre-cum connecting your lolled out tongue to his cock. “Need to fuck you, schätzchen, I can’t wait any longer, verdammte hölle—” 

You’re not given any warning before he’s pinning your back to the floor, bringing your knees up to your chest and bending you in half, a feat you didn’t know you were capable of before his strong fingers moulded you into the perfect position to take his cock. Folded like this, you can’t help but feel like a doll in his hands, your height and weight rendered meaningless under the sheer size of the monster above you. Trepidation begins to simmer under the surface of your skin, trying to imagine just how your body could ever make room for him. 

But he doesn’t leave you much time to fret before his head falls to your thighs, thick fingers twitching from where they hold up your legs as his nose buries into your pubic bone. Long strands of brunette block your vision, startling as you register the feeling of something thick and wet pressing against your folds. 

“K-König!” Your cry prompts a responding groan from the man below you as his tongue licks firm stripes up the length of your cunt, glassy eyes drifting up to you as though intoxicated, drunk of the heady taste of your arousal. With a jolt, you’re left helpless to watch as one of his hands slides down your thigh, stuttering through another gasped moan of his name as you feel a single thick digit slide into the wet heat of your pussy, eyes watering at the stretch that merely one of his fingers provides. 

He doesn’t hold up, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking the second he feels your walls clamp around him, slowly easing your muscles into accepting a second finger, distracting you from the momentary pain by lapping his tongue against your engorged clit. But even so, taking two of his fingers feels like more of a challenge than any cock you’ve taken in the past, eyes rolling backwards as he begins to crook them within you, calloused fingers rubbing against the gummy walls of your cunt in a way that has you convulsing around him, warbled sobs hiccuping past your lips as you feel your first climax rip through your body. 

“One more, maus, I need you to take one more so I know I won’t hurt you.” 

Tears track down your face, still processing the intensity that just wracked your body, but you nod down at him anyway, rewarded with a gentle smile and whispered praise as he cautiously eases a third finger into you, pausing the second he hears a pained hiss after the first knuckle. He hums, placing tender kitten licks against your still throbbing clit, letting you push past tender overstimulation to help pull your mind off the burning stretch, refocusing your attention to the pleasure his mouth provides. 

“Doing so well, liebling, almost there…” His words are whispered against your glistening pussy, eyes firmly fixed on yours as he guides you through, until finally all three of his fingers are pushed to the hilt, cooed praise following immediately after. 

“König, need you, I need you inside of me, please.” Your sniffled plea evokes nothing more than a playful smile from him as he cocks his head to the side. 

“Am I not inside of you right now, maus?” His tone is teasing, words accompanied by a wiggle of the fingers that remain buried in your cunt, coaxing a depraved moan from your already raw throat. 

“Your cock, wan’ your cock so bad,” It takes a second to search for the word that sits on the tip of your tongue, your eyes sparking when it finally comes to you, “Bitte, König.”

It’s immediate, the way his fingers pull from your cunt and secure themselves back around your thigh, darkened rubies glinting with that same predatory stare you’re all too familiar with now. He wastes no time as the tip of his cock bumps against soaked folds, your fingers wrapping around his veined shaft as you guide him inside, mouth parting in a silent cry as the tip pushes past the first ring of muscle and leaves you breathless. 

There is no mistaking that three of his fingers gave you a mere taste of the stretch, belatedly wondering how on Earth he’ll fit amongst the tight walls of your cunt, and the other organs that surround it. But by some grace of God, he continues to move, inch after thick inch swallowed by your cunt as though it were made for him, a perfect match, the monster and his plaything, the predator and its ever willing prey. 

A rush of air finally fills your lungs once the dull slap of his hips meets your ass, unfocused eyes widening as you take in the protrusion of his cock, the bulge obscenely large where it stretches out your skin. 

“S’big, you’re so fuckin’ big, what the fuck—” 

Slurred rambles are cut off with a searing kiss, passionate and fiery as his hips begin to draw back, swallowing down frenzied curses as he slams back into you, setting a cruel pace right from the start. You never had a chance, you should have known, and yet you regret nothing as he pounds into your abused cunt, your cervix meeting the tip of his weeping cock with each forceful thrust, thick veins rubbing against the walls of your pussy and leaving you glassy eyed and cock-drunk. 

Mindless babbles flow from drooling lips, your neck drooping to the side as you hope your eyes convey your needs without resorting to incoherent words. But it takes little more than exposing your throat to him before his lips latch onto the flesh, sucking a line of bruises into your skin before finally settling over your jugular, the only pre-warning of the oncoming bite being the scrape of fangs before they’re puncturing skin, flooding your veins with a venom that has your toes curling, fingernails digging into the muscle of his back and dragging thick red lines against shuddering flesh. 

His pace never falters, hips still careening against yours as his lips suck around the two minute incisions, drinking down your blood with a thirst you’ve never witnessed. Whether it’s the subduing poison that flows through your bloodstream, or the shift of hips as his cockhead nudges the walls of your cunt in a way that has stars blooming behind your eyelids, you find yourself hurtling into another climax, whimpered cries and bloodied nails evidence of your earth-shattering orgasm. 

His lips finally part from your skin with a slick sigh, lips painted the most beautiful shade of crimson that drips down his chin, a line that marks your possession, evidence he’s consumed by you, drunk on you. And it’s as you lean down, your tongue dragging against the bloodied stubble of his chin, lapping up what remains of your scarlet ichor, that he finally succumbs to the pleasure, his cock jolting within you as he releases seemingly endless spurts of cum against your cervix, buried as deep within your body as biology will allow. 

Panted breaths intermingle as his forehead presses flush to yours, lidded eyes, now nearly entirely consumed by gold peers at you, an interesting mix of fascination and something that looks almost fond discernible in his gaze. You still have so many questions, intrigued and just a little bit obsessed with the man above you, yet it’s apparent that your feelings are far from unrequited, and one day, every question that burns at your tongue and begs for answers will be satiated. For now, you’ll bask in his looming presence and tender care, grateful to have found him in the first place, however unfortunate the initial meeting was. 

Just as his lips ghost against yours, the distant sound of creaking has you both freezing in place.

“H-Hello? You still in here?”

“... Scheiße.”

[joi-me-hoi-me-noi]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do a Nanami x Reader who is like Tiana (from Disney's Princess and the Frog)? I love JJK/Disney and the ship is NanamixTiana has been living in my brain rent-free.

A/n: NGL I LOVEEEEE EVERYTHING ABOUT THAT SHIP BRO!! TIANA IS SUCH A QUEEN!! AND WITH NANAMI!??? power couple... POWER COUPLE!! I ALSO LOVE THE MOVIE SO MUCH AND I USED THE ENDING AS A REFERENCE TO TIANA! but I got you boookie <3

NANAMI x READER

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

It was Satoru's idea to invite him out to dinner since one of his best friends finally got the restaurant of their dreams.

"Come on Nanami. It'll be fun."

Kento, of course, is hesitant to go with him since Satoru's idea of 'fun' was different than his. Reluctantly, he entered the restaurant with his coworker's arm around his shoulder, leading him inside. There was live performance on stage while they were getting settled in their reserved seats. A beautiful person walks onto the stage, singing and dancing to the rhythm.

"That's them, right there."

Gojo tilts his glass towards the person on stage. They were absolutely stunning and had an amazing voice. Their stage performance was phenomenal.

"They're single."

Gojo whispers in his ear before leaning away and getting a stern look from Kento.

"Just saying." Gojo continues to sip on his drink, enjoying the show.

Soon the performance ended, and the lights come on. The band goes back to their normal hype jazz routine, and everyone resumes their conversations.

"Hey Satoru." He stands from his seat immediately, accepting the hug from the person.

"Hello Y/n, thank you for the invite."

Their e/c eyes shift to Kento, and he opens his mouth to speak.

"Good afternoon, Y/n. I would also like to tell you how much I appreciated the invite. I-I'm Nanami Kento."

Y/n walks over and gives him a hug as well.

"It's so nice to meet you, I hope you both enjoyed the performance, and your meal is on me. I did invite you to come here after all."

"I have money to spend Y/n, please, let us pay for our meals."

They laugh, lightly patting Satoru's shoulder and shaking their head.

"You have such a way with words, Satoru." A waiter approaches, apologizes for interrupting and whispers in Y/n's ear.

"Anyways, sit down and enjoy yourselves. I have something to deal with in the kitchen."

A sly wink is sent toward the two men over their shoulder as they walk into the kitchen area.

"I've never heard you stutter before Kento. You must really like them."

He simply just looks over at his friend and sips his water.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

The dinner was perfect, everything was delicious, and it was becoming late. People were starting to pay their bills and leave the venue.

"Hello again, I brought you the best beignets in all of New Orleans."

Y/n sets down a plate piled with pillow-like pastries covered in the right amount of powdered sugar.

"It still surprises me that no one has wifed you up yet. I still remember what you told me when we first met at your job."

They smile at that and goes to clear the plates in front of them.

"The way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

As they walk away with the dishware, Gojo turns to look at Nanami.

"Shoot your shot Nanami... My six-eyes can sense that you're making goo-goo eyes at her."

Nanami looked around the room. Everyone has left and they were the only ones in the room. For once in his life, Gojo was right! He shouldn't be nervous; he should go for it. They walk over to the table again with smaller plates and a smile still on their face.

"I brought you some smaller plates for the beignets. Is there anything else I could bring out to you or help you with?"

They looked between the two men; they really were the most stunning person he's ever seen.

"Could I talk to you?"

They smiled and nodded, leading him up the stairs and through the glass double doors on the right.

"So, what did you want to talk about, sugar?" They leans against the railing comfortably.

His heart did a small flip at the nickname as he approached them.

"I wanted to talk about you. I wanted to get to know you more."

He leans on the other side of the railing, right next to them.

"Gojo was telling me all about you during the flight, the drive, hell, even over dinner, he was telling me about you."

They laugh, throwing their head back and then looking at him.

"That's Satoru. He was telling me about you too, maybe he was trying to set us up with each other. He asked me if he could bring another person."

They turn their attention to the night sky and Nanami does the same.

"I want to get to know you more as well. I'd think it'd be fun to see where this goes. Especially since Gojo decided to talk each other up to the other person."

Nanami turns back to Y/n.

"Would you want to get a coffee, tomorrow?"

"I'd love to."

The two doors open, and they turn their attention to Gojo who had the plate of beignets in one hand and a half-eaten beignet in the other.

"These beignets are delicious Y/n." He licks his fingers after finishing the beignet.

"Thank you, Satoru. Leave some for Nanami now."

"No need to call me Nanami, Kento's fine."

A smug smirk appears on Gojo's face at that. Then, it widens when he looks down at the railing.

"I see you two have been getting 'close'."

He gestures to the part of the railing where Nanami's hand was on top of yours, brushing your knuckles softly. Neither of you move though.

"Well, we have a coffee date in the morning. Go back and get some sleep. Gojo will give you, my number."

Y/n leads them to the main area and Gojo pays for the meal.

"See you tomorrow Kento."

"See you tomorrow, Y/n."

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

[booksooks]

𝑳𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑳𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓: 𝑫𝒂𝒚 3.1

Author's Note: I'm so tired I'll edit this when I wake up. There will be a day 3 part 2. For now, please enjoy 💙

Contents: Nothing that needs a warning <3

Word Count: 2153

Summary: Entering your second year at college, only a few months after being broken up with, you weren't expecting anything special. Especially not in the romance department. But then a quiet, but friendly-enough boy on your floor catches your attention faster than you would like to admit. And oh, boy, are you in deep.

Thursday was more boring than you’d like to admit. You woke up early, despite your first class being only at 2pm, and you spent those hours mindlessly scrolling on your phone. And then you realized you didn’t know where your class was, so you scrambled to get your school’s brightspace open to find it. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when you were able to find it; it was one of the rooms on the upper floor of the library. The rest of your free time was spent getting ready for said class, choosing an outfit and doing any other cosmetic needs, skincare and stuff. Music blared loudly from your phone as you got ready, hyping you up for the day as you danced around your small room. Hanami had left for her classes for the day, so you had the tiny space to yourself as Miley Cyrus and Katy Perry made you bounce on your feet and sing into your microphone (aka your lint roller). It was only mildly embarrassing behavior, and your door was locked, so you weren’t extremely concerned with anyone seeing you. 

After a few more minutes, however, you sighed and decided you couldn’t get away with putting off leaving any more. You slipped your shoes on and snatched up your backpack to head out the door, your music now playing through your earbuds. You had left earlier than you needed, because you wanted to grab a drink from the commons cafe before attending two classes, and you wouldn’t have enough time to get something between two said classes. So leaving early was the only solution. 

You didn’t want to brag, you thought to yourself as you made your way to class, but you looked pretty damn good today. Jean shorts with star patches sewn over the ass (which, while cute, were inconvenient because it meant no pockets), and a baggy green shirt, and black converse made up your outfit. Your hair was hairing to the max, and you just felt good in the way you looked, which didn’t happen often, so if you had a little more swagger in your step, sue you. Today would be good. 

You carried the sentiment with you all the way to the commons cafe, where the school had implemented an entirely unnecessary and complicated new system to ordering the food through GrubHub, for whatever reason. You sighed and ordered your drink, and the app notified you that it would be ready in… 13 minutes. “Jesus Christ,” you mumbled to yourself as you leaned against a wall. Next time you would just order before leaving your dorm. It wasn’t like there were even that many people in line ahead of you, only three according to the GrubHub app. You rolled your eyes and checked the time, anxious to be on time with the added thirteen minutes to your schedule. You would be, thankfully, and spent the rest of your time waiting just scrolling through your phone. 

How much time did you spend on your phone anyway? Probably too much, you decided, going back to the messages between yourself and Shigaraki and Toga in the group chat last night. You hadn’t even used it for its intended purpose of scheduling a study session, but you figured you could blame it on Toga - wait, no, you couldn’t. You had asked when a good time to study was in her private messages. Oh well, it gave you a chance to text Shigaraki without Toga’s prying eyes. You had seen the way she looked at your hand on his elbow yesterday, a flicker of mischief and something a little more devious sparking in her eyes. You had your suspicions that she had left you two behind on purpose, but she had only just met you, so what reason would she have to try and get the two of you alone? 

Then again, she did seem like the obsessive type, with her little comment about stabbing people. And it wasn’t like you minded, per se. Shigaraki was an attractive man, the more you thought about him. Or more accurately, he was your type. He was tall, and his arm had felt so solid and warm beneath your hand yesterday, muscles taut underneath your fingers. You swallowed down the saliva pooling in your mouth, because yeah that was enough of that train of thought. 

Your mind didn’t stray very far, however, because you remembered his eyes and how damn pretty they were. Deep-set and a bright, ruby red, they sparkled with a less-than-hidden ferocity in the shadows of his pale blue hair. It was more than a little intimidating, the intensity in his gaze and how he seemed to be able to take in any information and store it away for later, to be pored over when it’s convenient for him. All in a few seconds of eye contact. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin when your phone buzzed in your hand, indicating that your order was ready and oh shit did you think about Shigaraki Tomura for a whole 13 minutes straight? That certainly wasn’t concerning, nor was it something you would let yourself think about for any longer as you grabbed your drink and made your way to class. Macroeconomics, ugh. Microeconomics had been hell last semester, but unfortunately it was a requirement for business majors, and there you were, a business major, which… Sucked to suck. 

You sighed quietly and shook off any and all thoughts about sucking and Shigaraki, and sweet Mary molasses you should not have thought about those two words together in the same sentence. What was wrong with you today? You decided it could be a problem for later, as you pushed open the door and greeted the professor, a sweet looking middle-aged woman before you sat down. This would be a long class. 

You were right, the class had been incredibly long, and incredibly boring, and you had taken to counting ceiling tiles to even stay awake. But the class was over now, thankfully, and you hopped to your feet to go to your next and last class, which was a calculus course. Fuck calculus. You pulled up your phone to double check the classroom number, knowing that the building it was in was right across from the library. 

The classroom was empty when you got there, save for-

“Shigaraki, hey!” 

The man looked up from his computer as you said his name, bright red eyes glancing at your mostly bare legs before meeting your gaze. “Hi.” 

“Are you in this calculus class too? That’d be so cool if we had two classes together.” You exclaimed, sitting at a desk next to him. He nodded and typed something out on his computer before shutting it, giving you his full attention, which you appreciated. 

“Yeah.” 

You nodded thoughtfully, wanting to keep the conversation going but unsure where to pick it back up. “It’s kinda early though, I mean, I’m 15 minutes early and you were here before me. What class did you have before this one?” 

Shigaraki said something about a computer science class, bringing one of his hands up to scratch at the base of his neck, an area of skin that was normally hidden underneath his sweater. Your eyes zeroed in on that little patch of skin, now scratched red and raw, and you had to physically blink to realize that not only had Shigaraki answered your question, he had asked you one of his own. 

“Uh, sorry I zoned out,” you admitted sheepishly. “What was that?”

“I asked what class you had.” 

Oh, right. That made sense. “Macroeconomics,” you mumbled. “It’s so boring I almost fell asleep.” 

Shigaraki’s lips curved into a sly, quiet snicker. His expression was marked by a subtle twitch at one corner, pulling your attention to the small scar that lay over the edge of his lip. A mole rested just beneath the other corner, adding a touch of asymmetry to his face that was prettier than it should have been. As he smiled , and God help you it was adorable, the wrinkles around his eyes deepened. “Falling asleep on the second day?” he mused, with a hint of mockery. “That’s no good.” 

Get a hold of yourself! You sang in your head. Where did his sudden, teasing confidence come from? 

You managed to smile sheepishly and avoided his gaze, shrugging. “Not my fault it’s a boring class.” 

Shigaraki had stopped pawing at his neck, instead tapping his fingers against his mouth and drawing your attention to it. His lips were cracked and dry, and looked to be honestly rather painful. “Can’t be that boring if you’re there.”

“W-What?” You chuckled softly, trying to figure out whether or not… was he flirting with you?

“You heard me,” he said, turning to face away from you and stare at the door. You blinked at him rapidly, and then shook your head. There was no way he was flirting. 

To distract yourself, you pulled out your phone and checked the time. 3:35pm. “Hm.”

“Hm?” Shigaraki parroted. 

“Hm, it’s five past and no one’s here yet,” you explained, pulling up the syllabus to double check you were in the right room, the right building. Yep. Room 221, Greens Hall. “Are we in the wrong room, do you think, or…?” 

Shigaraki frowned. “Could be.” 

You blinked at your phone, double and then triple checking your phone, just in case. But your eyes were not deceiving you. “Maybe everyone else is just late?” You asked hopefully. You knew it wasn’t true, there was no way no one else hadn’t trickled into class by now. 

“Let’s just,” you paused, “wait a few more minutes.” 

“Okay.” 

And so you did. Then a ‘few more minutes’ turned into ten, which turned into 15, and then 20. Not once had Shigaraki opened his computer back up. He had chosen to, instead, pull out his phone and fiddle around on it, and although you couldn’t see the screen you had to assume it was some sort of game by the way he held the device, thumbs poised over the edges of the screen. 

After 30 minutes of sitting in silence, you spoke up. “We’re definitely in the wrong room.” 

Shigaraki glanced up, briefly, and then looked back down at his phone. “How? We’re in the room that’s named on the syllabus.” 

“Iunno,” you mumbled, shrugging as you stood up and hoisting your backpack over your shoulders. “I’m gonna go back to my dorm and email the teacher from there. Wanna come with?” 

He nodded after a moment’s hesitation, sliding his stuff together and haphazardly shoving it all in his backpack. You watched, a little disturbed at the lack of organization, but didn’t comment because his backpack was already over his shoulder, and so was yours, and he was at the door quickly, holding it open for you. 

“Thanks,” you chirped, scooting past him and into the empty hallway. 

Shigaraki “mhm’d” in that soft, raspy voice of his, and soon enough his long legs were matching your stride. You both made your way out of the building in silence, trading off who opened doors for who automatically. You inhaled deeply when you got outside, the air cooler now that it was in the late afternoon, loving the feeling and the smell. 

The walk back to your dorm building was just as quiet, the both of you enjoying the sounds of other people walking or catching up with friends. Soon enough, however, you were on the little deer path that connected the academic part of campus to the living part of campus, where it was less chattery and was more welcoming to the cries of birds or squirrels barking. 

You broke that silence. “So uh, are you doing anything later?”

Shigaraki didn’t say anything for a moment. “No, don’t think so, why?” 

“Uh, well,” you started, hoping you didn’t sound as awkward as you felt. “I heard that they’re playing a movie on the front lawn of Briggs, and I wanted to go but I don’t wanna go alone.” 

You saw Shigaraki nod minutely in understanding. “What movie are they playing?” 

“I’m not sure,” you muttered. “An action movie, I’m pretty sure. I didn’t see though, on the flier. It starts at eight, though. If you want to come, no pressure.” 

You were rambling, God did you ever shut up? It was like you were determined to stick your foot in your mouth or make him uncomfortable. 

“Sure, I’ll be there.” 

“Oh, okay cool!” You said, your tone brighter than you had intended. 

The rest of the walk was quiet, and you said your ‘see you later’s in the hallway just in front of the staircase. It wasn’t until you were back in your room that you realized that, not only had you asked Shigaraki to go watch a movie with you, he had agreed. Oh joy.

End Notes: Thank you for reading <3!

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ABSOLUTELY NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WORK TO ANY SITE.

[bree-cheesy]

Sticky Club

Older Eddie Munson x fem!reader

A/N: Look at me pumping out two fics within like a day and a half. Be proud of me. I decided to try out the Older Eddie hype since I've seen these fics everywhere lately. I hope I did the whole trend justice. It's a little short, but I didn't want to write a huge fic and just wanted to get straight into the shit y'all wanna read anyway.

Side Note: I deleted this cause I wasn't super proud of it at first, but I'm reposting this because I feel like it definitely could've done better than it did. Not to be cocky or anything.

Credit to @patrick-stewart for the gif!

Warnings: SMUT 18+!! MINORS FUCK OFF! Porn with a little bit of plot. Not much plot in this. (kissing, dirty talk, sort of rough eddie, fingering, nipple play, public sex (club bathroom), dirty club dancing, unprotected p in v sex, doggy style rough fucking, loud reader, giving of hickeys.) Older Eddie Munson (early 30's), Younger reader (mid 20's), language. No use of Y/N. Strange guy tried to grind up against reader on the dance floor. I think that's it. As always, let me me know and I'll fix it!

Word Count: 1873

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You were kind of a hermit. You didn’t like to go out much and parties just weren’t your scene. You obviously went out occasionally, but it was probably once a month if that. It’s not that you hated people, you were just focused on your college work and trying to keep up good grades. Your best friends Robin, Nancy, and Steve were avid party goers. They always tried to get you to go out with them, but being the youngest of the group and the only one still in school, there just wasn’t much free time to go out with them. Tonight was different though. It was the end of the semester and all grades were final so you could finally let loose a little. Your friends were taking you out to a concert. It was for a band you hadn’t heard of before, but they said it was an old friend they all had from high school.

“Girl, you look great, don’t even.” Nancy looked at you and smiled. You were wearing an outfit you usually didn’t. Most of your outfits consisted of jeans and sweatshirts, not short tight skirts and tank tops like this. You frowned and looked at yourself in the mirror again.

“You sure?” You pulled the skirt down a little. “Seems a little… skimpy.”

“Trust me, you will be getting laid tonight wearing that. Trust me.” Robin announced, barging in the room uninvited. She looked you up and down and gave you a thumbs up. “You ready? Steve and I are ready to leave.” Nancy nodded and pulled her shoes on before walking out. You sighed and followed the two girls out.

You got to the club the band was performing at and noticed it was packed. There were huge groups of people everywhere. Girls wearing tight band tees and skirts that pretty much showed their whole ass. It smelled like sweat and vodka. Kinda made you gag a little, but you toughed through it. Nancy led you over to the bar to order drinks for everyone while Steve and Robin claimed a booth. You two walked back with the drinks and you slid in the booth next to Robin. You were all talking when a tall man with long brown curly hair, a guitar strapped across her shoulder, and had a t-shirt of the band on it.

“Eddie!” Nancy stood up and hugged him tight. Steve fist bumped him and Robin gave him a high five. Steve introduced you to Eddie and you noticed he stared a little longer than normal. You blushed softly and nervously sipped your fruity drink when he complimented you. “We’re super excited you’re finally performing here! We missed being able to see you.” Nancy scooted over so Eddie could slide in next to her.

“Yeah, missed seeing you guys! This will be good, I promise.” Eddie chuckled and stole a sip from Steve’s drink. Steve scowled and snatched the drink back.

Eddie soon left and the rest of you got up to get close to the performance. You were so nervous. The spark you felt with Eddie was such a huge shock, now you were scared to be so up close to him. The performance started and you didn’t notice how hard you were biting your lip while staring at Eddie until you tasted blood. He glanced at you and smirked while playing the guitar when he saw the blood on your bottom lip. You blushed and looked down. When he started singing you were dancing with Robin while Steve was dancing with Nancy. Eddie’s eyes were on you like a hawk. God, he couldn’t look away. That tight skirt you were wearing was riding up while you swayed your hips. He could almost see the bottom of your black lacy panties.

At the end of the performance, you were still dancing with Robin. You felt someone come up behind you and the strange hands held you tight against the body behind you. You turned your head and saw a weird man practically drooling at you and grinding up against your ass. You pushed him off and Robin stepped between the two of you. He put up a fight with Steve until suddenly he was thrown on the ground. Eddie pushed him to the ground and got security to kick him out.

“You okay?” Steve looked at you and put his hands on your shoulders. You nodded and smiled.

“Yeah. He didn’t do anything serious.” He nodded and let go of you.

The group, with Eddie, sat back down at your booth and Eddie slid in next to you, pushing up close to you so Robin could fit in next to you two. Your breath caught in your throat. He smelled like sweat and faded cologne. It was a scent you could get addicted to. It was dangerous. You learned Eddie was 32. He was a little older than the rest of the group, but that just made him all that much hotter.

“How’d you meet these idiots?” Eddie asked, looking at you with a smile and a tenderness in his eyes.

“Oh, I met Robin when she was graduating and the rest of them kind of just took me in.” You looked down at your drink and sipped it. Eddie put an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close to him, squeezing you slightly.

“Well, any friend of these people is my friend.” You chuckled nervously and glanced up at him.

Steve was talking about something that happened at his job when you felt Eddie’s hand on your thigh. You gulped nervously and felt him run his fingers in soft circles on your inner thigh. You bit the inside of your lip when he leaned a little closer into you. He squeezed your thigh and raised his hand higher. You put your hand on his, stopping him from going further. He cleared his throat and kept his hand on your knee.

The group had all gotten up to dance and Eddie took your hand, pulling you with him. You gasped softly when he pulled your back into his chest and held onto your hips, swaying the both of you to the music. You bit your lip and shut your eyes, leaning your head back on his shoulder. He ran his hand up your thigh and over your belly, lightly rubbing your breasts over your shirt.

“Eddie…” You moaned softly and he leaned his head down, kissing the side of your neck. You reached a hand back and tangled it in his hair. He tucked his fingers into the top of your skirt and squeezed your ass with the other one. He kissed up your neck and pressed his lips against your ear.

“Feel good, sweetheart? Everyone’s looking at us. Some of the girls look like they wanna kill you.” He flipped you around and you gasped, wrapping your arms around his neck. He grinned and grabbed your ass with both hands, pressing your hips more up against him. “Such a pretty girl…”

You moaned softly and he pressed his forehead against yours, grinding harder against you to the music. “Eddie… please…” 

He grinned and grabbed your hand, pulling you to the bathroom. He locked the door and pressed you up against the sink. His lips crashed down on yours and you groaned into his mouth, kissing him back almost immediately. You hitched your leg up around his waist and he lifted you up onto the counter. Your hands went to the buttons on his black dress shirt and started undoing them, running your fingers over every expanse of skin you exposed. He kissed down your neck and sucked a few marks into it. You smiled and moaned, pushing the shirt off his shoulders. He pulled your tank top off and dropped it on the floor. He kissed you again and squeezed your breasts over your lacy bra.

“Eddie, fuck… that feels so good…!” You moaned into his mouth and he grinned, reaching back to take the bra off, throwing it off somewhere in the sticky club bathroom.

“Yeah? Feel s’good when I touch you, baby? Wanna feel my mouth?” He pulled back and wrapped your legs around his waist. You nodded and moaned, digging the heels of your heels into the back of his thighs. He grinned and his lips instantly attached to your nipple, sucking and biting it. You cried out and threw your head back, tangling your fingers in his hair.

His hands went down and hiked your skirt up so he could slip his hand in your panties. “Fuck… So goddamn wet already…!” He groaned and swirled the tip of his tongue against your nipple. He rubbed your clit in time with his tongue and you panted heavily, grinding up against his hand. “Such a good fucking girl…” He grabbed your thighs and pulled your panties down your legs, shoving them in his back pocket. He slipped two fingers inside you in time with his thumb rubbing your clit. You instantly clenched down around his fingers and moaned, grabbing onto his shoulders.

“E-Eddie, your fingers a-are so big…!” You whined and bucked up harder against his hand. “I need… I need more… Please, Eddie…”

“Please what, honey? Use your words.” He mockingly pouted and fingered you faster.

“F-Fuck me! Please fuck me!” You cried out and sobbed in pleasure, pulling at your nipples.

He pulled you off the counter and bent you over it. He pulled his aching cock out and spit on his hand, stroking it a little before slowly pushing in. You groaned in unison, creating a song of pleasure between the two of you. He didn’t hold back at all. He growled like an animal and fucked you hard, the slapping of skin loud and could be heard over the muffled music behind the bathroom door. You sobbed, your eyes filling with tears of pure pleasure, moaning and gripping the counter hard.

“Goddamn, baby… So fucking tight around me… Gonna fucking milk me dry, huh? Want my cum deep inside you, honey?” You nodded and moaned louder.

“Y-Yes…! Please cum so deep inside me! I want it so bad…!” Your mouth hung open and he went faster.

“Cum for me first, baby. I’ll give you anything you want if you cum all over my cock.” He groaned and rubbed your clit in time with thrusts.

You cried out, finally given permission and came harder around his cock, squeezing hard around him and moaning loudly. Eddie grunted and groaned, grabbing your chin and pulling you up to kiss you hard, still pounding into you from behind. You begged and pleaded with him to cum and he finally granted you your wish, cumming deep inside you and moaning into your ear. You both caught your breath and your eyes shut as you slumped against the counter. You heard him grab some paper towels and get them wet, wiping your sensitive cunt clean before helping you fix your clothes. You both walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later and your group all gave you knowing looks. Eddie grinned and kissed your cheek while you blushed and buried your face deep in his chest in embarrassment.

[revisitingfandoms]

I got an idea for a prompt to show how the cookies outside of their game of 'cookies and kingdoms'...maybe they are doing a session....like the one where they free dark enchantress and dark enchantress is hyped to be able to FINALLY play a bit! they end up taking a pizza break when the pizzas and snacks y/n ordered for everyone arrives and they pause to eat....maybe end up talking about the session and/or life outside of the game...like gingwrbrave talks about his non-saving the world (because world doesn't need saving since it's basically happy ending thing lol) adventures, dark enchantress could talk about the cake tower and how all the cake citizens and hounds are doing...ooor they can talk about the session and what they hope will happen in it and other session stuff they'd talk about as they eat their delicious pizza and snacks.

Sure thing! Although I kind've went with a more modern take. Both White Lily and Dark Enchantress are half sisters in this AU!

(Also I may have add someone else you might see later down the line for my own planning)

Enjoy!

ANSWERED PROMPT 2- BREAK TIME

The doorbell rings as the group pauses, The current dungeon master- Caramel Shade pauses in what he was doing and turns to one of the game watchers, “Can one of you go get that? I bet its the pizza.” From the silent thumbs up and the dragging a formerly dozing Eternal sugar- it was silent salt who was grabbing it.

Caramel shade then turns back to the actual game players, “Alright, we’re gonna wrap this portion up- As our heroes break open the moonstone containing white lily cookie- Her frown turns to a smirk as she changes right before their eyes. To our hero's horror- white lily cookie has changed into Dark Enchantress cookie!” Caramel Shade looks over his book, “If you could roll for intimation, Enchantress.” 

Reader cookie whistles at the Nat19 role from the white haired woman. The Kiddos watch on in a barely concealed horror. 

Caramel Shade nods, “As the moonstone crumbles- a great cake beast rises with her, its arm carrying Dark enchantress cookie upwards as it frees itself. She commends you for breaking her out of imprisonment.” The kids seem to wilt at Caramel shades next words, “Welp that's all for the morning session- we reconve at two sharp, anyways silent salt should be back with the pizza hop to it.” There's a minor bit of whining but the kids run to the kitchen to grab their slices, White Lily goes over to her older sister- and he vaguely hears the plans they were making. 

Reader cookie walks over with a hum, “So whats the future plans in mind?” Caramel shuffles through his notebook, “Well, I figured that since we’re working in the same universe as the Beasts and Blood campaign that Mirror Moon ran and our previous campaign that I ran, so you can guess what's coming up.” Reader’s eyes widen as they snicker, “Yep, I can’t wait to see Shadow Milk on the table again- that was chaos on its own.” Caramel Shade waves them off, “You go get some food, I’ll join later.” Reader walks off to the kitchen.

Entering the kitchen, Reader cookie notes that the big fold up table was out with a variety of pizzas on the table with a big container with bread bags that was already halfway gone. Several of the younger members were seemingly discussing possible future plans and what they could do while a few of the others namely Strawberry crepe were suggesting that they just join DEC- It was hard to not snort what he was bopped on the nose with a breadstick by the younger custard cookie. 

Reader cookie hums to themself as they walk over the drink and decide to go for a water before nabbing a slice or two of pizza and bread bag. Mengering over to the living room they spot Dark choco suplexing licorice cookie, while velvet did the same to his dog chiffon and Choco Brute did the same to a giggling Poison Mushroom. 

Reader plops onto the couch beside pure vanilla- the older man offers them a smile, “So, I take it custard and his friends are discussing their future plans?” Reader nods as they offer a bread slice- the man originally tries to refuse what accepts after a bit of insistence much to readers' delight. They nod to his original question, “Yep- and I can’t wait for Custards reaction to when you sit down at the table.” The older man opens his eyes with a raised eyebrow before closing them, “Oh, so Caramel shade told you?” Reader snickers, “Nope, just said that thing linked to previous campaigns were gonna show up.” Pure vanilla lets out a laugh with the shake of his head. 

And Custards little screech after they found out pure vanilla was in their team was quite adorable.

[fanficshiddles]

The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 43

It was just over halfway through the summer holidays, Claire and Loki had taken to living together like a duck to water. It was like they’d lived together for years, everything just flowed so well and they just knew it was meant to be.

Bat seemed ecstatic having Claire around all the time too, because of course having two human slaves to feed you and pet you all the time was much better than just one.

‘When is your dad coming to collect Bat?’ Claire called through the house to Loki as she snuggled said cat, before heading through to the front door to put on her jacket.

‘After he finishes work this afternoon. So she won’t be on her own for too long.’ Loki said as he brought their suitcase down the stairs.

He then headed through to say goodbye to Bat. Telling her that her grandpa would be along to collect her later.

Just as Loki joined Claire back at the front door, they heard beeping from outside.

‘That’s our ride.’ Loki said as he grabbed their case and opened the door for Claire.

They stepped outside and Claire waved at the group that was in the minivan. She was shocked to see Chris was driving.

‘Chris is driving?’

‘Yeah, one of his mates owns the minivan company, so he gets it for free as long as we pay for fuel and any issues we cause, of course.’ Loki said with a sigh as they made their way down the path.

‘You’re still not happy about going with him, are you?’ Claire said knowingly.

‘Nope. It will be fine once we are there, he’s staying in the glamping area. Says that camping in a tent is beneath him.’ Loki rolled his eyes.

‘Ah well, probably a good thing.’ Claire laughed. ‘I’m still surprised he’s joining us.’

‘The only reason he’s going is because his band is playing at the festival.’ Loki said.

‘His band?’ Claire raised an eyebrow at Loki.

‘Yeah, he sings in a band in his spare time. Not that he has much spare time. Just a hobby more than anything.’ Loki shrugged.

When Claire and Loki got on the bus, they both laughed as drinks were already on the go. David tossed a can of beer at Loki and Jessica patted the empty seat next to her for Claire, thrusting a can of a blue lagoon cocktail into her hands before her bum had even hit the seat.

‘Let’s go! Get this party started!’ David cheered as he leaned forward and patted Chris’ shoulder.

Chris shook his head in response as he pulled out onto the street. Michael was sitting up front with Chris, though he had a can of beer too.

Loki sat next to David. Jessica and Claire were opposite them, then Matt, Hannibal and Spencer were in the back row along with Hannibal’s partner, Will. Claire had only met him once before, but he was really nice.

‘No need to guess that Severus isn’t joining us?’ Claire asked as she opened her cocktail.

‘Nope. He never does.’ Hannibal drawled.

‘I think he’s spending three weeks at the cabin by the woods we went to during Easter. Think he liked the idea of fooling around in the woods.’ Loki laughed.

‘Typical.’ Matt chuckled.

Micheal was in charge of the music on the drive there, though he was pretty good at his choices. Along with the early drinking of alcohol, it got everyone all hyped up and excited for the three-day festival.

Claire was surprised to see that even Chris looked to be enjoying himself, as much as he could anyway since he was the driver. Though he did join in with some of the karaoke that was going on and seemed amused at the antics of the others.

During the drive there, Claire noticed that Jessica kept glancing round at Spencer quite often, even when neither of them were speaking. She noticed that Jessica seemed to have a rather goofy smile on her face when she did look at him.

‘Is there something going on between you two?’ Claire whispered to her.

‘Whatever do you mean?’ Jessica asked, trying to act casual.

Claire gave her a look. Jessica then caved instantly.

‘Ok, ok… So, we are kind of a thing. Though aren’t really telling people just yet.’ She whispered to Claire.

‘Oh my god, that’s so exciting! So happy for you!’ Claire had to contain her excitement.

‘Thanks. I really like him. We had a one-night stand about a month ago, then we met for lunch and it’s just gone from there.’ Jessica said with a dreamy smile on her face.

‘Does he know about vampires?’ Claire asked quietly.

‘No, not yet. I’m waiting for the right moment to tell him.’ Jessica replied.

‘Good idea. I have a feeling he will be cool with it though, he seems the easy-going type.’ Claire smiled.

‘Yeah, I think so too.’ Jessica said hopefully.

When they arrived at the festival, Chris headed off on his own to his ‘glamping’, while the others continued on to find somewhere to pitch their tents.

‘At least there’s a group of us, we will be safer.’ Matt commented as they passed by a lot of rowdy drunks already.

‘And don’t worry ladies, plenty of men here to look out for you.’ Spencer said playfully and looked at Jessica, who blushed a little bit.

‘I think it would be Jessica protecting him more than the other way around.’ Claire said quietly to Loki and winked at him, making him chuckle as he draped his arm around her shoulder.

They found a decent spot not too far from the entrance to the arenas, but also not too close to the main walkways so they were nearer the fence-line, where it would be a bit quieter and away from main traffic.

Loki and Claire were obviously sharing a tent, so was Hannibal and Will. Everyone was a little surprised when they realised that Jessica and Spencer were sharing one. So they had to tell everyone that they were dating. Claire was glad it was out in the open as she didn’t think she’d be able to keep it a secret once they had more drinks.

David, Michael and Matt had decided to share a tent as David had a large one with three separate sections.

‘No, that doesn’t go in there.’ Claire argued with Loki while they fought with their tent.

‘I told you we should have just gotten a pop-up tent.’ Loki huffed as he tried to read the instructions again.

‘That would be cheating though. Putting up the tent is half the fun.’ Claire teased.

‘Yeah, this is a bundle of fun.’ Loki huffed as he tried turning the instructions sideways to make more sense of it.

He let out a small yelp as Claire whacked his ass with one of the tent poles.

‘Oh, that’s how you want to play, is it?’ He growled and launched for her. Claire let out a squeal as she ran away, but Loki didn’t let her get far before he grabbed her and playfully bit at her neck, making her laugh and squeal some more.

After a little bit of teasing and fooling around, they eventually got the tent up properly. Then it was the task of blowing up the bed. They had a foot pump, so took turns doing it.

‘Is this even going up?’ Claire asked.

‘It is… slowly… very, slowly.’ Loki said after peering at it from a few angles to check it was actually working properly.

‘I feel like I’ve been pumping for hours.’ She sighed.

‘I know what you can pump for hours instead if you like.’ Loki said suggestively with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

‘Calm those eyebrows down, vampy.’ Claire giggled.

Eventually though, they got their bed blown up.

‘You better not pierce it with your fangs, or you’ll be sleeping outside on the grass.’ Claire warned Loki as she sat down on the bed to test it.

Loki laughed wickedly and tackled her down on her back, she laughed as he slid his hands under her top at her back and began tickling her. They rolled around for a little while, she tried to escape his long teasing fingers, but he didn’t relent until David shouted at them from outside.

‘Tents aren’t soundproof guys, we don’t want to be hearing any mischievous business going on. Or you better buy us all damn good ear plugs.’  

That made Claire laugh even more and Loki too, he relented his attack on her. ‘I’ll get you later.’ He growled at her and kissed her on the lips.

‘Mmm, that better be a promise.’ She grinned at him.

Once the group was all happy with their tents, they set up some chairs in the middle and had a couple of drinks before going into the festival arena area. There were some bands playing that night, though the main ones were on tomorrow and the following day.

They ended up meeting with Chris, Loki wasn’t overly fussed as he’d had a good few drinks so was feeling pleasantly tipsy and didn’t really care anymore that he was around. Since he seemed to be behaving, too.

There was a band playing on one of the smaller stages in a tent arena, so the group went along there and hung about at the back to enjoy the music and drinks.

At one point, Claire went up to the bar to get a few more cocktails for herself and Jessica, they were both getting through their drinks pretty fast compared to the guys. When she was waiting for her turn, a guy went up to her and she just had a feeling that he was a vampire.

‘Hello there lovely. Can I get these drinks for you…’ He trailed off once he got closer to her and she noticed his nostrils flare slightly, then he looked sheepish and stepped back. ‘Sorry. I understand you’re with someone. Enjoy the festival.’ He said politely with a nod and then walked away, with Claire not even saying a word.

When she got back to the group, she handed Jessica her drink then went to Loki’s side. ‘The whole being claimed by a vampire really does work for most vampires, huh?’

Loki raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Someone hit on you?’

‘A vampire was about to, but then he must’ve smelt you on me or something as he quickly apologised.’ Claire said in surprise.

Loki’s body relaxed instantly. ‘That’s how it’s supposed to work, and usually does with mature vampires. It’s the younger ones you sometimes need to watch if they aren’t respectful.’ Loki put his arm around her waist and tugged her in close.

Claire smiled goofily. She had a feeling telling Loki about that would get him all protective, even though he already did his job of protecting her just by having her claimed.

Chris was slightly to the side of the group, even though he was sort of conversing with David and Michael, he was also watching the couples of the group. He noticed the way Claire was clinging to Loki, also Hannibal and Will were pretty touchy feely for being in public. Even Jessica and Spencer were pretty close, the way she looked at him with adoration in her eyes…

He had a weird feeling in his stomach, though tried to push it to the side. But after a little while, he ended up leaving the group to see if he could find a woman that was drunk enough to lure back to his glamping tent for the night. For a warm body in his bed, more than a feed… Though he would be kidding himself if he said he wasn’t going to feed from her too.

Later into the night, the group were all pretty hammered and right in amongst everyone else, jumping and dancing along with the crowd of people. When the music finished, it was just before two in the morning.

They made their way back to their tents and Claire was so drunk she couldn’t even see properly where she was going, Loki had to guide her back, even though he was far gone too.

When they got into their tent, Claire didn’t even take off her clothes, she just fell onto the bed and passed out instantly. Loki was able to take off his shirt but that was as far as he got, he collapsed next to her with his arm draped over her. He was able to pull their large double sleeping bag over them, which would do for tonight.

-

The following morning, Chris woke up and noticed the girl he’d found last night was still in the bed next to him. He had indeed fed from her too, though he decided not to kill this time and just make her forget about the feeding part of the night.

He figured since she was a reasonably good fuck, he might find her again before the weekend was out. Even if he did feel like she didn’t satisfy him quite as he had hoped. He wasn’t sure what was going on lately with him, but any girl he fooled around with just didn’t satisfy him in the same way as usual. It was like there was a deeper itch within him that couldn’t quite be scratched.

Deciding to leave her there, he went to one of the nearest food stalls for breakfast and decided to order enough for the group. He went into the tent area B where Matt told him they were pitched in, and it didn’t take him long to sniff them all out.

‘Well, well, well. Aren’t you all quite the sight for sore eyes.’ Chris chuckled.

They were all in the middle of their tents, looking so rough. Claire, Jessica and Hannibal were lying on the grass, still in the same clothes from last night and they looked like death. The three of them had spent a while in the porta potties earlier puking. Michael and Matt were sitting crossed legged on the grass, with their heads hanging down and sunglasses on as they had banging headaches. Will, David, Spencer and Loki were sitting on chairs with big glasses of water, looking rough too.

‘I’ve brought some bacon butties for everyone.’ Chris said as he placed the bag down on the camping table.

Claire had never moved so fast in her life as she shot up and crawled like the girl from the ring across the grass to grab one. Loki didn’t have the energy to laugh, no matter how amusing he found it.

‘What’s gotten into you, being so kind?’ Loki commented as he eventually reached out for a butty.

‘It would be a shame if you were all to miss my band’s set. We’re on in four hours, so I suggest you all get washed up and drink more water.’ He commented with a little smirk, glancing once more at the sight before heading away.

Claire didn’t care what his intentions were, heck, even if a complete stranger had offered her some good greasy food right now, she would’ve bitten their hand off for it. It was just what she needed, she felt so much better after it.

‘I really wish we had showers.’ She groaned as she sat back against Loki’s legs.

‘Baby wipes it will have to be, love.’ Loki said regretfully as he slid his fingers through her hair, making her moan a little as she closed her eyes and enjoyed his gentle touch.

‘I hope you brought plenty of packs.’ She mumbled to him.

‘I thought you packed them?’ Loki asked, his fingers paused in her hair.

Claire’s eyes shot open and she tilted her head right back to look at him. ‘Please tell me you’re just joking…’

Though she could tell by the look of horror on Loki’s face that he wasn’t.

[ichinisankaku]

Event Translation - Spotlight ~Tsukushi High Side~ (Part 1)

Muku: Today's food was delicious too.

Juza: Yeah. I like how this stew tastes.

Izumi: The stir-fry's also delicious! As expected of Omi-kun.

*door opens*

Kumon: Haa, that was a good workout!

Izumi: Kumon-kun, were you training by yourself?

Kumon: Yep! Or, well, rather than training, I was practicing my dancing.

Since I'll be dancing at the school festival this year, I gotta learn the choreography!

Sakyo: Right, Tsuku High's having its school festival soon, isn't it.

Kumon: Yeah! It's Tsuku High tradition for some third year volunteers to put on a dance show at the post-festival party, with all the most popular songs of the year.

I saw the previous year's performance and decided that I absolutely wanted to take part, so I applied for it!

Sakyo: Sounds like you.

Muku: Is Azami-kun doing something too?

Izumi: (Azami-kun doesn't really seem the type to take part in these things, but…)

Azami: …

Kumon: Azami's doing a rap show that night!

Juza: He's also takin' part in a voluntary performance like that?

Azami: …Seems like some guy from another class saw one of the rap etudes I do with Homare-san sometimes.

I was basically dragged into it against my will.

Izumi: I see…

Sakyo: Sounds like Bon's fitting in well.

Azami: Mind your own business.

Kumon: Only people affiliated with the school are allowed at the post-festival party, though.

I wanted you guys to see my dancing and Azami's rapping~

Azami: Well I didn't.

Kumon: But but, I'll absolutely make sure to video it! And I'll show that video to everyone!

Plus, anyone can enter during the day, so come and have fun. Our classes are putting stuff on too!

Mine is doing a bubble tea house, and Azami's is doing a haunted house.

I actually wanted to do a haunted house too, but I got to do that with everyone in the dorm.

And our bubble tea house is gonna be super hype!

Muku: I'm looking forward to Tsuku High's festival. I'll make sure I'm free then.

Kumon: Great! Ah, that reminds me, Sumi-san said he'd come too!

Juza: Right, that guy also went to Tsuku High, didn't he.

Muku: Let's go talk to him too, then.

Azami: You better not come, shitty Sakyo.

Sakyo: What was that?

Izumi: (Fufu, everyone seems to be having fun.)

Kumon: Lunch, lunch~

Azami: I'm starving…

Kumon: Hey hey, Azami, are you practicing your rapping?

Azami: Eh, here and there… you?

Kumon: Of course! I've got plans to practice after school today! Yamaguchi's joining in too~

Azami: Huh, that's a bit surprising.

Kumon: He said he was invited by his classmates.

Speaking of, let's go around the festival together!

Azami: Hah? Isn't that something you'd normally do with your own classmates?

Kumon: I wanna go around with everyone, and that means you too! C'mon, it'll be fun!

Azami: Well, I guess that's fine…

Kumon: Yaay!

Azami: Anyway, let's eat our food.

Kumon: I'm hungry too! I bought lotsa bread today.

Azami: I've got salad and onigiri… and a yogurt drink.

Kumon: Ah! That sounds good! I'm kinda interested in that one.

Azami: Yuki-san said it's pretty good.

Kumon: Hu~h!

…Y'know, it's just occurred to me, but going to school with you and regularly eating lunch together like this…

I never would've thought it would happen when we joined the troupe~

Azami: I mean, that's 'cause you-

[Prologue | Flora 1 | Flora 2 | Flora 3 | Flora 4 | Flora 5 | Flora Epilogue | Tsukushi 2 | Tsukushi 3 | Tsukushi 4 | Tsukushi 5 | Tsukushi Epilogue]

[keiipopped]

Hello there! May i request a Fem!Reader x Boyfriend!Idol!Riki Headcanon? If so, can the headcanon be like a Reader with amazing vocal skills like Mariah Carey or Ariana Grande? The rest can be up to you! If not, it's okay! I don't see a lot of headcanons about a s/o who can sing and as a person who can sing, i'd love to read about what headcanons people come up with about it!! Oh, and can there be a kizz? I'm a die-hard fan of romance :) Sorry if this is too much :> and lovee you♡

His Songbird

a/n: Hii love! im so sorry this took me so long to get out i have no idea what im doing💀 bare with me please. i hope you like this so definitely feel free to private message me and let me know your thoughts on it! anyways enjoyy! hopefully and love you even more!

Synopsis: You as Riki's vocalist girlfriend who he adores so very much

Pairing: Idol Boyfriend Riki x reader Genre:fluff,crack wc:904

Warning: none other than some poorly written fluff

RIki as your boyfriend and you can sing would be a doozy

Wouldn't be the cliche flat out asking you to sing random songs for him or anything

it'd be more like you're both sitting down on the couch and just spending time together and he randomly asks "whats that one song by new jeans? it's like Kudos or something?"

"ditto?" you'd ask

"i guess. how does it go?"

and boom now you're singing ditto to him.

kids manipulative with it lmao

He'd definitely try to get his Hyungs to get you to do some vocals on songs from the group albums.

and if you're in a group as well he'd definitely but most if not all of the shows for the sole purpose of hearing and cheering you on.

^and he'd stream any of your solo stuff like there's no tomorrow.

Like you go to the house to hangout with him; your song is playing, you get in the car with him; your song is playing, you pick up or see his phone; your song is the last thing on his apple music.

he would also recommend your songs to engene on weverse whether your relationship is public or not

On rare occasions if he's tired but not wanting to go to sleep and you're telling him to go to sleep he'll be like "i'll sleep if you sing to me"

oh and if at any point y'all are in different rooms and he hears you singing or humming he's gonna just start wandering around the house or the room you're in to try not to bring attention to himself but to still be able to hear you.

^like you're in the kitchen making a snack for you both to eat while you watch a movie and he's in the bedroom trying to pick a movie

you unconsciously start humming a song to yourself and suddenly feel a tall figure behind you mindlessly rummaging through the fridge.

"um.. Niki?"

"what?"

"what are you doing? i told you i was bringing the snacks"

he turns around looking at you like a child caught doing something they shouldn't be

"well i got thirsty. continue what you were doing"

you figured he just wanted to hear you closer. also considering you had just brought him a drink. so you gave him a pass also he was too cute to be annoyed at

Overall. he is very loving and sweet and supportive whenever it comes down to your singing

best hype man you could ask for.

oh! and i didn't forget. whenever you get off of stage you get a big fat smooch. especially if you weren't confident about your performance before or after it.

©️keiipopped 2023; don't copy, translate, or repost my work without giving credits.

[mochegato]

Sending Sexy Back

“This should be it,” Adrien pronounced, looking between his phone and the bar sign a few times.

“Are you sure?” Marinette snickered.

He checked the name of the bar and his phone again, swiping to another screen to verify the address before answering.  “Yes.”

Marinette let out a snort that turned into full blown laughter.  “You’re ridiculous,” she chortled as she held the door open for him.

“I just want to make sure we don’t miss this.  It’s the first time he’s the headliner for a poetry reading and we’re the only ones here for him,” he reminded her.

She rolled her eyes but bobbed her head in agreement.  There were other friends who were going to come, but of the people he deeply cared about, she and Adrien were the only ones coming.  Nobody from his family was going to attend.  Supposedly, all of them were far too busy to make it, which was ridiculous considering there were like twenty-five of them and somehow not one of them could free up a few hours.

It was one of the reasons she had dropped everything to make sure she was there for him, not that she wouldn’t have anyway, but it added extra pressure to the night.  He deserved to have a strong showing of support and she and Adrien were going to make sure he had it.  “I wasn’t criticizing the sentiment, just the delivery.”

When they got into the bar, she was pleasantly surprised at the turn out.  It wasn’t too crowded to move, but it was very well attended.  They had to wind their way through the crowd to get to the bar.  The only downside was they weren’t able to easily spot Duke to hype him up before he went on.

“Just text him,” Marinette urged.  “He could be backstage… if they have one, and we wouldn’t ever see him.”

Adrien nodded absently.  “Yeah.  Yeah, that’s a good idea.”  He pulled out his phone again and typed quickly before looking up and motioning toward the bar.  “Come on, let’s get a drink while we wait.”  His phone dinged just as they made it to the bar and Marinette could tell by the slow smile that spread on his lips exactly who the text was from.

“He’s running late,” Adrien snorted.  “Of course.”  He turned the phone for her to see the message, shooting her a mock glare for her scoff, which he knew without even asking was because of the kissy face emoji at the end of the message, but he still tucked his phone in his pocket and raised an eyebrow.  “What?  Dark and Stormy, please,” he added for the bartender.

“Boulevardier, please,” Marinette ordered with a bright smile for the bartender before she dropped it as soon as she turned back to Adrien.  “You guys just saw each other on Wednesday.”

“And now it’s Friday,” he responded as though it were the clearest thing in the world, and she was the most obtuse person in the world to not understand.  “That’s two whole days.”

Marinette scrunched her nose at Adrien.  “Disgusting.”

“Disgusting?” he demanded in mock affront.  “It’s disgusting to be so utterly in love with your partner that being apart hurts your very soul?”

“Mon Dieu,” she muttered quietly to the bar.  “Unbelievable.”

Adrien nodded to the bartender before taking a small sip of his drink and turning back to Marinette.  “Your view of the world is just utterly devoid of any romance,” he smirked.

Mari took her drink with a smile for the bartender.  “Can’t argue with that,” she chuckled mirthlessly and lifted the glass toward Adrien before took a testing sip of her drink, letting out a sigh as it hit her throat.

Adrien’s face dropped and he had started reaching for her before he registered the movement.  “Mari, I…”

“Maybe I can help with that,” a smooth, deep voice drawled from behind her.  It flowed around her like silk, caressing her skin as it moved.  “Can I buy you a drink?”

Mari turned toward him slowly, utterly surprised by his brazen advance, but even more so when she finally faced him.  She had to stop herself from dropping her drink.  He was easily the sexiest man she’d ever seen.  Calling him an Adonis would be an insult to the man.  He wasn’t traditionally sexy.  He wasn’t ruggedly sexy.  He wasn’t model sexy.  He was just sexy.  Full stop.  With his messy dark hair pushed back in an effortless style that would take hairstylists hours to accomplish and his crystal-clear blue eyes that focused on nothing but her, little crinkles forming along their edges as his brilliant, boyish smile widened at her attention.  And he was looking at her like she was the most captivating thing he’d seen in ages.

That reaction jolted her focus back to the situation as a whole rather than on his chiseled muscles straining against the tee shirt he was wearing.  She narrowed her eyes and held her drink up for him to see before taking a long, slow drink.  “I have one already.”

Unfortunately… or maybe fortunately, she honestly wasn’t sure, his grin somehow became even more roguish at her cheeky tone.  “The next one then,” he offered.  His eyes finally left hers, the first time since she’d turned around to glance at her drink and immediately back to her eyes.  She vaguely noted he had yet to give her a once over like she’d given him.  No, he’d been entirely respectful.  The confusing, stunning bastard.  “Or maybe a snack.”

She smiled sweetly back at him, humming as she leaned in slightly.  “That does sound appealing.”  He mirrored her movement leaning in ever so slightly toward her as if unaware he was doing it.  “No, thank you.”

He froze instantly and leaned away.  “Wait.  No?”

“Yes.  No,” she repeated leaning away and resting her elbow on the bar.  “Too sexy.  Not dealing with all the…” she motioned toward all of him, “… that goes with it.  But I appreciate the offer for a front row seat for the show.”

He stared at her for a full five seconds before he opened his mouth to speak but snapped it shut again immediately with a confused grunt.  He had to take another breath before he started again.  “You aren’t interested because… I’m too sexy?” he clarified slowly like each word made the sentence increasingly foreign to him.  “Seriously?”

“Dead ass.  There’s a whole,” she motioned wildly to the heavens and back to him, “that you people either have or just pervades you like smog.  I need a break from…” she motioned toward him again.  “I need a normal guy, with normal guy issues.  Not drama.  Good luck tonight though,” she offered cheerily and turned away from him, back towards Adrien.

She could feel him continue to stare at the back of her head well after she’d turned.  She almost turned back around at the small chuckle he let out, picturing him accompanying it with an amused shake of his head, but Adrien jumped in before she could make that mistake.  “Hey!” he exclaimed.  “You dated me!  I was sexy!”

His lips pulled down in an exaggerated pout, but it served its purpose as she scoffed at him, her own lips ticking up.  “You were cute,” she corrected, “not sexy.”

“What does that even mean?” he demanded, affronted at the very insinuation.  He was sexy damn it.  He was a model… or he had been when they dated.  He still could be.  And he knew he’d affected her to her core back then.  “You couldn’t speak when I was around.”

She waved him off as she took another sip of her drink.  “Yeah, no.  There’s a big difference.  I wanted kids with you but never at any point thought about sex with you to produce them… or sex not to produce them with you.  He,” she motioned vaguely over her shoulder, “makes me want to do debauched things that would make booktok girls blush, and all he’s done is say hi and smile.”

Marinette missed the way the man’s eyebrow raised at her words and his lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk, but Adrien was in perfect position to see it.  He’d opened his mouth to speak but Adrien cut in first, gasping loudly so there was no easy entry back into their conversation.  “I’m hurt.  This hurts.  I feel…” he furrowed his brow in faux serious consideration as he patted different areas of his chest like he was trying to find something, finally settling his hands above his heart, “betrayal.  I’ve been betrayed.”

Marinette scoffed and rolled her eyes.  She took a much longer drink this time.  “I’m sure Duke will make it all better,” she consoled and congratulated herself at keeping the condescension from her voice.

Adrien grinned before he could stop himself but quickly schooled his expression into a heavy scowl.  “Maybe, but…” he motioned toward her, “…first love didn’t find me utterly sexy.  My ego might never recover.”

“See,” she threw her hand up in a vague motion toward the heavens.  “You’re sexy now and this is what you’ve become.  This,” she motioned harshly toward him, “is exactly what I want to avoid.  Sexy destroys the personality.”

He met her gaze and kept pointed, intense eye contact.  “So, you admit that I'm sexy now,” he clarified carefully.

She groaned and threw her hands up in frustration.  “Of course, you are, you mangy cat.”

He nodded and took a drink, satisfied with the response… for the most part.  He set his drink down and eyed her suspiciously.  “How sexy?”

She stared at him with the flattest, deadest look and let out the longest, most exasperated sigh she could manage.  “So sexy you’ve lost all personality, and I could never date you,” she stated.  If Adrien hadn’t known her better, he would have believed the bored delivery.  “Better?”

“Much,” he nodded solemnly, ignoring her amused snort.  “Now let's get a good spot to watch Duke.  He’s up next and I want to be close enough he can see me if he gets nervous,” he grinned, all evidence of levity gone from his eyes, quickly replaced with a genuine, sappy excitement.

“You go.  I’ll get refills and food and be right there,” she interjected motioning toward the bartender.  Adrien nodded but, he was already scouting out a place for them to sit.  It was so sweet, so devoted, Marinette couldn’t help but chuckle.  She only looked back when the bartender made a noise behind her.  “Two of the sa…”

“Refills,” the bartender announced, setting down two new drinks in front of her.  “And fries.”

“You’re a mind reader,” Marinette gushed as she reached for the glasses.  “Thank you so much!”

The bartender scoffed as he grabbed their old glasses to wash.  “Not me.  Him.”  He jutted his chin to her side.  “And paid for them.”

Marinette froze and looked between him and the drinks.  “For both of them?”  Her eyebrows shot to her hairline at the bartender’s nod but they then quickly fell over narrowed eyes.  She turned slowly; her lips pursed in contemplation as she gazed at him.

Had he just bought hers, she’d know what it meant, how to respond, what his intentions were.  But he’d bought drinks for her and her friend and hadn’t made a big deal of it.  He hadn’t tried to maneuver the offering into a second introduction.  And he wasn’t just trying to get her drunk.  He’d bought her greasy food that would keep her sober.

He was not playing by the Pretty Boy Playbook, and it was throwing her off.  There was certainly another playbook he was going by, she just needed to figure out which one.  Nobody who looked like him didn’t.  She’d learned that firsthand… and repeatedly.  “It appears I owe you a thank you.”

“Nah,” he waved her off but turned back toward her, giving her his full attention again, “it wasn’t about getting a thank you.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and settled further into her chair.  “Oh?  So, what was it about you getting?”

“A smile, but not for me.  Well, kind of for me.  I won’t lie, I’d like to see your smile,” he admitted.  “Your real one,” he clarified.

She huffed a small bark of a sound, not quite a laugh, but not quite a scoff and picked up her drink, bringing it close to her chest as though she had picked it up to drink rather than something with which to keep her hand busy.  A siphon for her anxiety.  “You think you haven’t seen it already?”

There was no doubt the noise he made was a scoff.  “No.  Not tonight.  Not in person.  No, I think what you offered tonight was a shield, a false front, meant to deflect and protect.  I’d like to see a real one.”

“Think you’re owed that, do you?” she clipped.

“No,” he answered instantly.  “But I’m trying to earn it.”

Marinette blinked at him; her heart having stopped.  Her entire body and mind had glitched.  She was utterly unsure how to respond to that.  This wasn’t just a different book; this was a different medium entirely.

She finally forced her body back into action with a scoff and a lift of her drink to her lips, but she set it back down undrunk.  “I should think earning it is a foreign concept to someone like you,” she accused.  Her tone was sharp.  She hoped he felt it, but more than that, she hoped he didn’t feel the shakiness in it, the fact that it was less sharp than it could be, than it normally would be.

“Ah yes,” the man nodded sagely, utterly nonplussed by her tone.  “Your perception of me.”  He took a long sip of his drink, as always keeping his eyes on her.  “Based entirely on my looks.  Doesn’t seem fair.”

Marinette snorted but very consciously did not smile, at least not a ‘genuine’ one.  Instead, she quirked her head to the side and offered a derisive smirk.  “Not used to that evaluation going against you?”  She pouted excessively.

He ran a tongue over his canine as his eyes sparked devilishly.  Marinette barely had time to prepare herself before he went for it.  “So, is it your hypothesis that you’re not sexy yourself or are you saying you have no personality?”

Her smirk dropped entirely, and her head snapped up straight.  Of all the possible next statements he could have made, it wasn’t the last, but it certainly wasn’t high on the list.  “Excuse me?”

He shrugged with an innocence she was positive he hadn’t experienced in at least a decade.  “Because from what you said earlier, you seem to think people can only have one or the other, but as far as I can tell you have both in spades.”

Her eyes narrowed and her body leaned forward entirely of their own volition.  She had to consciously force herself to lean away and break eye contact to study her glass, twisting the glass to swirl the contents into a golden vortex.  “You were eavesdropping,” she accused.  She set the glass back on the bar and turned back to him with a wrinkled nose.  “Also, what is ‘spades’?”

He blinked at her, trying to reset his brain to comprehend her question.  “Spades.”  He repeated the word slower, like annunciation was the issue understanding.  “You know spades.  It’s…” he paused to think about how to finish the definition.  “It means… They’re…” he flustered, still at a loss, his hands waving wildly as he grasped for an answer.  “It means you have a lot of both.”

He let out a breath to gain his composure back, but still had to take another drink before he could continue.  “And, for the record, you weren’t being quiet,” he added levelly, but his voice seemed more forced than it had been before as did the lean toward her, which had seemed natural earlier, but now seemed like a calculated move.  “It’s almost like you wanted me to hear and comment.”

Marinette barely restrained her smirk at the difficulty he was having finding his composure.  She had to imagine he wasn’t used to getting flustered.  Men like him, hell, men far less attractive than him, were used to flustering everyone around them with just a smile, a raise of the eyebrow, a growl to their tone.  She was rather enjoying being one of the few who could fluster the pretty boy.  “I think you’ve confused me with one of your groupies.”

He quirked his head, almost like a confused lab.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Are you going to try to deny you have groupies,” Marinette laughed incredulously.

His eyes darted around rapidly.  He leaned away to give him a better vantage of the area.  “I don’t… have you… there aren’t any groupies here.  You can’t possibly have seen any.”  He froze and turned back to Marinette, all evidence of panic gone from his expression, but in its place was nothing.  No expression.  Completely neutral.  “I mean, what groupies?”

A bark of mirthless laughter burst out of her at his clearly accidental admission that she was absolutely correct in her assessment.  “I don’t have to see them to know they exist.”  A sad glint shone in her eyes for just a second before she quickly masked it with a mocking smile.  “They follow people like you around anywhere you go.  Making you feel prioritized.  Softening any blows…”

“I do have people who like to watch me, but not because I ask for it or encourage it,” he cut in, a crack in his neutral expression starting to show through.  “Hardly qualifies as ‘groupies’.”

She hummed critically.  “But that wasn’t the question.”

“Oh?  I must have forgotten.  What was the question again?” He leaned in closer to her, creating an intimate environment for them even in the midst of a crowded environment.

She let her eyes skirt over his face, taking in one frustratingly perfect detail after the next.  “It wasn’t whether you encouraged it, it was whether you think I’m one.”

He let his smile sneak up a bit more.  “A fan?”  She made a non-committal sound.  He quirked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow.  “You’re not?”

She pushed him away with a finger to his chest.  “Takes more than a pretty face, though I will admit yours is prettier than most.”

He let his lips quirk up in a devilish smile.  “You think my face is pretty?”

“I know your face is pretty,” she affirmed, voice bordering on annoyed.  “You know your face is pretty.  That’s why you have all the groupies.”

He hummed and took a long slow drink and settling it back on the bar with delicate precision before turning his attention back to her, smiling when he caught her eyes following each move.  “And here I thought it was my ass.”

She rolled her eyes as she picked up her drink.  “Well, it wasn’t for your humility,” she scoffed.

The self-assured smirk that seemed to have a home on his lips dropped and his whole aura changed.  Suddenly the boyish, teasing charm was gone replaced with a serious, almost pleading vulnerability.  “So, what does it take?”

She stared mute at him for a few seconds as her head tried to make sense of the complete turnaround in personality.  “What?”

“To get your attention,” he elaborated slowly.  His voice low and steady.  His eyes clear and sincere.  “What does it take to get you to give me a chance to show you how you deserve to be treated.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, caution overtaking her.  “And how’s that?”

His hand clenched on the bar next to her like he was holding himself back from grazing it along any part of her that she would let him touch.  As always, his eyes never left hers, meeting with such intensity, she almost had to lean away from him.  “Like you’re the most precious thing in this world or the next.  Like your every whim and thought is a precious gem that should be revered and honored.  Like your smile and laugh achieve such perfection wars could be fought over them.”

If she hadn’t been so unwillingly, intimately familiarized with the Game, she might have believed his genuine delivery.  It seemed so heartfelt, so genuine, because that’s how it was supposed to seem.  What was a lie worth if you weren’t going to sell it.  But even knowing that.  Even knowing that’s all it was, she still had to fight her heart fluttering at the words.  “Those are pretty words,” she clipped.  It had to be clipped because she didn’t trust her voice not to crack.

“They’re more than words,” he answered calmly, confidently, again so close to genuine, it hurt to hear them.  She couldn’t stop the bitter scoff that escaped her, but he didn’t even seem to notice it, or if he did, he ignored it.  “You never did answer.  What does it take?  What can I do?  What do you need?”

He leaned a bit closer with each question, but she backed away in equal measure.  She blinked at him, trying to process his words.  He was still working off a different book than the men she’d had the misfortune of interacting with before.  He was off script, and she didn’t know how to respond; what the correct response was that would result in him not vaporizing her heart with no more thought or guilt than destroying an alien in Space Invader.

She narrowed her eyes again, but this time in frustration rather than caution.  “I need someone who’s willing to put in the work and the devotion and the respect… and not just expect it only for themselves.  Someone who doesn’t think they deserve the world to lay down the red carpet for them because they have dimples.  I need someone who isn’t going to espouse pretty words to lure me into bed,” she hissed, no longer retreating, but leaning into his space with each sentence, like she was taking the fight to him instead of waiting for him to bring it to her.

“Words I know are false because you don’t know me.”  She shoved an accusatory finger toward his chest but stopped short of touching him.  “You have no idea how I deserve to be treated.  You certainly couldn’t have developed the sense that I’ve earned such devotion that you would never bestow anyway.  You literally just said you’d never seen my smile and yet you wax poetic about how revered it should be.  The only reason you would have for proclaiming it is to lull me into submission, to lower my walls so you can slither your way in.”

She braced herself for the anger she was sure was going to come, the lashing out at realizing his flirting hadn’t worked for him for once.  It didn’t usually take much provocation and Marinette had just provided plenty.  But instead, he watched her, almost contemplatively, a sad look flashing in his eyes moment before returning to the more neutral expression.

“You’re Marinette Dupain Cheng.  You’re best friends with Adrien Agreste and a particularly persistent reporter named Alya… something French, honestly, I’ve forgotten but she’s married to a DJ Duke loves.  You’re exceptionally creative, not just in designs, which are amazing, by the way, both clothes and art, but in engineering as well.

He chuckled mirthlessly and shook his head but immediately remet her eyes with understanding gaze.  “It’s an instinct I understand.”

“You’re fiercely protective of your friends and family,” he continued on, his voice strong and steady.  His eyes met hers like a comforting caress.  “You take care of everyone around you and take far too much on but still somehow power through.  But you never let anyone take care of you.  You could be drowning and would still insist you could swim without help.  A fact that has been taken advantage of more than a few times and chipped away at your trust so you push people away… no, that’s not right.  You don’t push them away.  You just never let them in in the first place, which isn’t anything Duke told me by the way, it’s just what I’ve observed.”

Marinette edged out of her seat until she was standing behind it, holding it between them, her eyes darting to where Adrien had already taken his seat and was trying to crane his neck to find Duke.  “How… how did you…”

The man raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly but by that time she was watching his every move, every breath intently.  “Sorry, I thought you might recognize me.  Duke is my brother.  He’s talked about you since he first met you the first week of junior year.  I’ve heard stories at least weekly since.

She shook her head absently, his words barely sinking in.  “Duke said nobody from his family was going to be able to make it…”

“Honestly, with as much as he’s talked about you and your guys’ sometimes legal adventures, I feel like I know you better than any of his friends that I’ve met and hung out with.  I…” he ran a hand through his perfectly tousled hair, which somehow made it even more annoyingly perfect.  “Earlier, I didn’t say I haven’t seen your smile, only that I haven’t seen it in person. Duke has shown me so many pictures and videos of you, I thought he might have shown you some of me as well.”

Dick chuckled self-deprecatingly.  “Nobody was supposed to be able to make it, which was ridiculous because there’s like ten of us and this is a big deal for him.  I couldn’t let him do this without at least one of us here to support him.  There were some things that could not be moved, but Steph and I were able to clear our schedules so we could be here.”

Marinette’s hard gaze softened but only slightly.  She continued to look at him intently, as though she could see through to his very soul.  But as she looked at him, she could see it now, the vague resemblance to the man in the pictures Duke had shown her periodically through the years.  He hadn’t shown her many, just as she hadn’t shown him many of her family, but just like she had talked about her parents, Duke had talked about him often.

Dick.  Duke’s pictures of him did not do him justice.  There was something about being in his presence, an aura that pictures didn’t convey.  It was an intangible feeling that overcame a person when his magnetic eyes met theirs, or maybe it was just her.  The way her heart sped up when he gave her that look made her heart somehow flutter and freeze at the same time.

She kept staring at him, trying to reconcile the man Duke had described with the man in front of her, the one who had been playing games, because that’s what he was doing, right?  He’s been playing the Game.  He hadn’t meant any of it… unless he had… unless the genuine delivery was because he had been genuine.  But that’s not how men like him operated… except for Adrien… and Duke… and Dick Grayson… at least according to Duke.

And this man somehow knew everything about her, even the parts she kept hidden far away from prying eyes, cradled and protected from getting battered any further like the Beast’s rose.  Yet he came in like Belle ripping away all of the protections she’d fought so long to preserve and threatening to expose them to the cruel, heartless world with kind eyes and a dimpled smile.

Her mental spiral was interrupted by a voice booming over the speakers.  “Next up to the mic, Duke Thomas.”

She took a sharp breath and shook her head.  “I need to go,” she mumbled as she turned to join Adrien, but even to her own ears, her voice sounded wooden, hollow.

Duke’s reading was brilliant, or at least Marinette assumed it was based on past experience and the crowd reaction.  She couldn’t say for certain herself.  The first part of his short performance went by in a blur, she chuckled and clapped whenever Adrien did, but always a few beats behind and with a dampened enthusiasm.

She shook herself out of her daze literally, jerking her head back and forth a few times as Duke continued.  The enthusiasm and passion behind every word quickly pulled Marinette out of her thoughts and into his world.  By the time he finished, Marinette was fully invested in his reading, the interaction at the bar nearly forgotten, just a soreness lingering around her heart like an echo, and she was able to cheer for him without prompting.

When the applause died down, Duke immediately made his way to Adrien.  His smile was brilliant and wide, warming the closer he moved to Adrien until it lit up the room when he reached him, which she was positive matched Adrien’s smile as well.  Honestly, a person could go blind hanging around them too often.

She watched with pride as he made the rounds through the crowd, everyone granting him a genuine smile and congratulations.  It was only then she realized she’d left their drinks and food at the bar earlier and she would really like one at that moment, again, more to have something to do with her hands than out of a need to drink.  Fiddling with a glass was a much more socially acceptable way to keep her hands occupied than ripping a napkin to pieces, which she was moments away from doing.

Duke settled into the seat next to her while she was distracted, not even bothering to hide his devious smirk when she jumped at finally noticing him.  “Sooo,” he started slowly.  He shot her a pointed look, a prompting look, a clear signal that he was waiting for her to finish the sentence correctly.

Marinette snickered and rolled her eyes.  “Sooo,” she repeated in the same tone and knocked her shoulder into his, “your performance was brilliant.  Your best yet.  You should put that in your portfolio.  I’d even consider submitting that to a publisher.”

He looked down and grinned shyly even as his chest puffed out.  “Thanks.  That means a lot to hear.”

She shook her head and took his drink from his hand, stealing a sip of his Greyhound instantly making a face as it burned her throat.  “Never order that again,” she gasped.

“Oh, so sorry for ordering a drink I like,” he chuckled.  “Next time I’ll make sure to get one you’ll like on the off chance you want a sip.”

She snorted and took another sip anyway.  “Off chance,” she mocked.

Duke barked out a laugh and grabbed his drink back with a shake of his head and a long sip.  He looked back up with a smile that put her on edge.  To anyone else, the smile would have been comforting in its apparent innocence, but Marinette knew him better.  She knew that angelic looking smile meant devilish intensions and braced herself with a defensive smile for whatever trouble was coming next. “But what I meant was, soooo I saw you chatting with Dick earlier.”

His tone was light, teasing, but her smile dropped instantly.  Her eyes darted away, focusing on anything but him… him or Dick.  “So it would seem,” she acquiesced warily.

He eyed her cautiously, not having expected that response.  Dick never got that response.  Everyone loved Dick.  Even people who didn’t want to date him loved him.  He would understand if Marinette didn’t want to date him, but for her to shut down when his name was mentioned, that either meant their chemistry was amazingly good or amazingly bad.  “How’d it go?”

“It went,” she granted, her eyes still not meeting his.

He hummed.  Dick either did something sexist and conceited, which was not like Dick, sure he could be a stubborn, single-minded jerk sometimes, but not like that.  Or, the more likely option, the connection was too good and she was scrambling.  “No sparks then?” he asked with a sympathy that almost came across as authentic and would have, to anyone but a best friend.

She finally turned back to meet his gaze with a deadpan look.  “Why?” her voice floated over to him saccharine sweet.  “Is your love life with Adrien that boring?  You’re checking into mine?”  She tutted a few times and sighed heavily, settling back in her chair.  “Honeymoon periods are so short these days.”

Duke rolled his eyes and shoved her hard enough to shift her in her chair.  “Our relationship isn’t boring, it’s committed and supportive and nurturing and comfortable… No!  comforting.”  He pursed his lips and groaned.  “No, you know what, it is comfortable.  A healthy relationship should make you feel comfortable, and I feel comfortable with him.  Bitch,” he added on at the end, but without any heat.  He looked back at her from the side, meeting her gaze for just a moment before they broke down into laughter.  It took a few moments before he settled back into his chair, his expression settling into a more contemplative look.  “I was just… I thought you two would be good together.”

She shifted uncomfortably, eyes back to scanning the room.  “And why is that?”

“I thought you’d be good for him,” he answered softly.

A scoff burst out before she could stop it, not that she would have wanted to.  She was already feeling exposed from her interaction earlier and this conversation felt like scratching at her raw nerves.  “Because I could keep him in line?  Maybe make him want to settle down?  Thanks for that,” she grumbled.

Duke scoffed this time.  “You know me better, please.  I wouldn’t wish that on you.”  He leaned forward, not into her direct line of sight, but enough that he made his presence known, looming but unthreatening.  “Dick has a tendency to forget to take care of himself.  He makes everyone else a priority.  I thought… you like to dote on the people you love and he needs that.  He’s a good man who loves to treat the people he’s with like they’re the most important people in the world, and you deserve that.  Especially after the last few guys you dated and how they behaved, how they treated you after the first few weeks… I thought you deserved someone like him.”

He turned his body toward her.  Even if she wasn’t looking at him, he wanted her to know she had his full attention.  Him encouraging her to consider Dick wasn’t a spur of the moment decision.  He’d thought this through… frequently.  “I understand if you’re not ready yet.  I just thought you might be good.  I’ve been talking you up to him since I met you.  He hasn’t had the best luck with relationships either.”

Marinette glared at a spot in front of her, her lips pulling down into a deep pout and her eyes darting to him until she rolled her eyes and huffed loudly.  “You are the worst best friend.  When you and Adrien get married, I'm standing up for his side.”

He grinned brilliantly and pulled her into a side hug.  “I’m telling Adrien you said I was your best friend,” he whispered before jerking away with a loud laugh.  He continued chuckling for a few moments and let his vision sweep over the crowd, his eyes warming upon settling on Adrien.  He continued to watch Adrien as he laughed, throwing his head back in glee.

His eyes darted over to her in a mirror of her actions from a few moments before but significantly more anxiously, like he was steeling himself for something.  “But… hopefully, you won't have to wait long,” he commented carefully.

She quirked her head, bringing her eyes back to him.  Her brow furrowed slightly as she contemplated his words and took in his stance.  Suddenly, his frame was tense.  Instead of slouching into his chair as he had been moments before, he was sitting up straight, spine stiff enough, a rod could have run straight through it.  “For what?” she asked cautiously.

He took a breath before answering.  “For the chance to follow through on your threat.”

Her expression was frozen for just a second as the words registered and her face broke out into a beaming smile and a squeal burst out loud enough to draw the attention of everyone within twenty feet of them as she launched into his arms.  “That’s so exciting!  I’m so happy for you!  Are you thinking of asking soon?  Did you just make the decision?  Do you know how you want to ask?  Have you made a plan?  Are you just going to wing it?  Don’t tell me if you’re going to wing it, it will give me anxiety.  Lie to me.  Do you need help planning the wedding?  What can I do?”

She fired off her questions faster than Duke could register them.  “Slow down,” he laughed.  He squeezed her again before letting her back up into her seat.  “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but yeah, I decided I wanted to ask him Wednesday after he fell asleep on my shoulder while we were watching the movie.”  He looked back at Adrien, giving him a sappy smile when Adrien looked back over and met his eyes for just a moment.

“I knew,” he continued, still watching Adrien like he hung the moon, “I wanted that for the rest of my life.  Just like that.  Forever.”

A noise rose from Marinette’s chest somewhere between a squeal and a squeak, her elation clear on her face.  “That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard!  I want to see pictures.”  She suddenly sat up straight.  “Ooohhh, can we get Max to record it with a drone or hidden camera?  Or we can do a live feed.”

Duke chuckled and shook his head.  “I think it’s hilarious you think Tim won’t do that regardless of what I say.”

He continued to watch Adrien for a few more moments before turning back to her with a sobered expression.  The change concerned her, especially when he took her hand to encourage her to look back at him.  “I know I wouldn't be here without you so... thank you.  Thank you for introducing us and…” he took a deep breath, “for walking away when you knew it was wrong.  For breaking both your hearts so they could be put together stronger. I know it was incredibly hard and yours hasn't been fully yet."

He opened his mouth then closed it to think through what he had to say. His eyes flicked to hers seeming to hesitate for a second before continuing.  “That's why... I think Dick can help you with that.”

She blinked at him for a second before bursting out in laughter.  “You know, Alya has said the same thing more than once.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes.  He dropped her hand, shoving it away in mock disgust.  “Okay, I meant he would be gentle with your heart and protect it, which you deserve, but you know what?  Dick would have made the same joke, so clearly you two have the same sense of humor.  So, I was right and you two are annoyingly perfect for each other.”

She hummed in response and let her eyes wander back to where Adrien was laughing with Dick and a one of her and Duke’s university friends.  Dick flicked his eyes over to them for just a second, just long enough to catch her gaze with a small, guilty smile, before returning his focus to Adrien.

Adrien was laughing at something Dick had said hard enough he had bent over to catch his breath.  Adrien loved to laugh.  His laughter was one of her favorite sounds maybe because it so rare growing up.  She was fortunate enough to get to hear it often now.  But laughter like that?  Marinette hadn’t seen him laugh like that in a long time and the sight warmed her heart.  “I'll think about it,” she agreed quietly.

Duke nodded and kissed her head with an understanding smile.  “Love you,” he murmured into her hair before he disappeared into the crowd, heading straight toward Adrien.  Marinette let herself space out for a few moments until the noise around her became too much.  She needed just a bit of space to breathe and think.  This night was not at all what she had prepared herself for and she needed a break to ease the weight of it from compressing her mind.  She saw a door to the small patio behind the club and darted out to it.

As soon as the door closed behind her, the cacophony of noises muted, and she let herself breathe and think of nothing for a few seconds, but it didn’t take long for her thoughts to drift back to the bar.

Dick had been nothing but polite, and a bit playful, to her and she’d been cold and cutting.  And, if she trusted Duke, Dick hadn’t deserved it.  Duke had never said anything negative about Dick.  Duke complained about all of his family at length, but never Dick.  Well, that wasn’t exactly true.  He did complain about him, but it was always a backhanded insult; a compliment masquerading as an insult.

If she were as brave as she pretended to be, she would go back in there and apologize and ask for a second chance.  The very idea terrified her.  Not the apology, the stuff that comes after.  Because if she truly meant the apology, then she would need to be more open to him.  Let him move the protections she’d rooted into the ground and expose her heart.  What an absolutely horrific idea.

She shivered at the thought and vaguely realized a bit because of the cold.  She hadn’t brought a jacket or sweater, it wouldn’t work with the outfit, and hadn’t expected to be outside for this long.  She got up to go back inside but froze when she saw Dick push through the doors.

He froze as well as soon as he saw her.  “Hey, I didn't mean to interrupt but you've been out here for a while and it’s been a bit chilly at night lately so I brought you a hoodie.”  Even if she hadn’t been able to detect the anxiety in his voice, there was no way to miss it in the way he nervously shuffled as he held out the hoodie for her and the vulnerability in his eyes.

She looked from it to him a few times, but it must have taken her a bit too long to reach for it because he suddenly dropped his hand holding the hoodie while the other flew to the back of his neck.  “It’s Duke’s!” he added quickly, the pronouncement coming out much louder than he had intended.  “Not… I wouldn’t have given you mine.  Not that I have one, but I wouldn’t have given you my jacket.  Not because I wouldn’t want… I just figured you wouldn’t…”

He groaned and ran his hand over his face.  “What is wrong with me?” he muttered to himself.

“It’s okay,” she assured him.

He took a deep breath and forced it out slowly, finally lifting his eyes to her again before continuing in a much more collected manner.  “I know you don’t know me and don’t trust me so it would be really inconsiderate and rude to have brought you mine.  That’s all I meant.”  He set the hoodie onto the table next to her with a small smile and immediately took a step back.  “Well, like I said, didn't mean to interrupt so I'll leave you to your thoughts.”

She watched him take a few steps before calling out to him and taking the hoodie tentatively, like an inadequate peace offering and pulled it over her outfit.  “I meant it's okay if you want to join me.”

He immediately stopped and smiled brightly but his bright smile quickly faltered.  There was nothing in her expression or posture that suggested she didn’t mean what she had said, in fact they indicated complete honesty and openness.  But there was still a hint of something behind her eyes, a tentativeness that he could just barely detect, but once you saw it, you couldn’t unsee it.  “Are you sure?  I really meant it.  I didn't come out here to interrupt.  If you’d prefer time to yourself…”

She chuckled and shook her head, looking up toward the sky as though she could somehow see the stars through the light pollution, but he could still see the hint of a smile on her lips.  “No, it's fine.  Duke says you're a good guy, and I trust Duke so…”  Dick nodded and sat next to her, close enough to create an intimate atmosphere, but not so close he was crowding her.  “And I may have heard a lot about you over the years too.  So… perhaps my initial judgement was a bit hasty and the way I treated you was completely unjustified… perhaps.”

Dick grinned brilliantly but soon schooled his smile into a softer version.  He nodded and looked up at the sky as well.  “I trust Duke too, so we know we have one thing in common.”  Marinette snorted and opened her mouth but quickly snapped it shut and turned away before he could see her blush, but Dick turned to her a bit too quickly, catching it just in time.  His eyes twinkled at seeing her cheeks brushed with pink and snickered.  “Oh, come on, you can't do that.  Now you need to tell me!”

She groaned and somehow, the blush got deeper and spread to her neck so beautifully, Dick had to stop himself from reaching out to brush his fingers over the blush.  She groaned and dropped her head, oblivious to his stare.  It took a few moments before she looked at him from the corner of her eye.  “He says we have the same sense of humor too.”

Dick raised an eyebrow and grinned wickedly.  “With a blush like that, I have to assume you said something to do with my name.”  When she groaned again and covered her face with her hands, sleeves flopping loosely over her hands, his grin widened, a hearty laugh booming from his chest.  “Come on,” he exclaimed, opening his arms wide to her, “let me have it.  I've heard them all, I guarantee you.  I could even tell you some.”

Marinette shook her head and lowered her hands just enough to look up at him with a bemused smile.  She opened her mouth but closed it again quickly and took a breath to fortify herself before she answered.  “He just mentioned…” she started hesitantly, “that maybe I could use a little dick in my life.  And I may have laughed and told him that's not the first time I've heard that.”

Dick's face scrunched up, his eyes not quite looking at her.  Marinette's hands and smile dropped instantly.  She knew she shouldn’t have said that.  It was so incredibly rude.  He said he could take it, but everyone thinks they can take something before they hear it.  Damn it!  She was supposed to be trying to make up for her previous behavior, not behave worse.  “I mean!” she exclaimed anxiously trying to backpedal.

“I have to say, I'm not a huge fan of the descriptor,” Dick mused. “Maybe prefer a different one.  Like ‘huge’.  That’s a good word.”

A snicker burst out from Marinette and continued as she broke down in laughter.  When the laughter finally subsided, she looked over at him, a brilliant smile on her lips, to find him watching her with a lopsided grin.  “That's the first time I've made you really smile.”

Marinette looked away and pulled her lower lip between her teeth.  “First time?” she asked, hope eking through in her tone.  Maybe she hadn’t messed up their second chance.  Maybe there was still a shot.

He grinned at her.  “And hopefully not the last,” he offered quietly.  He looked at her softly for a moment until a look of determination crossed his face.  “I want you to know, I am willing to put in the work.  I don’t expect you to do it all, just meet me halfway.”

She nodded absently.  “I’m willing to try.  I’ll try not to let my past experiences affect ours.”  She cut off suddenly and looked away.  “I… I can’t promise how well I’ll do.  But I’ll try.”

Dick ducked down to meet her eyes despite her determination to avoid his gaze, but he stayed in that position, waiting until she was ready.  “I’m a patient man.  I can wait for you.”

His patience was finally rewarded when her eyes shot over to his.  “You’re not real,” she scoffed.

He chuckled but immediately met her eyes again with a soft, non-confrontational gaze and raised his arm in front of her.  “Want to pinch me, just to make sure?”

She hummed and ran her fingers down his arm to his hand and threaded her fingers between his instead, not missing the way his smile widened at her boldness.  “You should know, I can be stubborn.”

His smile brightened at her olive branch and settled their entwined hands between them.  “I can be determined,” he offered in the same tone.

“I can be anxious,” she countered.

“I can be soothing.”

She looked away for a moment and pursed her lips in faux contemplation.  “I can be… loyal.”

He chuckled and pulled her hand onto his leg as he scooted just a bit closer.  “I can be insecure,” he admitted.

“I can be supportive.”

He nodded and quirked his lips to the side, eyes narrowing.  “I can over commit until I’ve stretched myself so thin I let everyone down,” he commented, entirely too casually for the content of his statement.

She snorted and looked away, but she leaned closer to him and her grip on his hand never slackened.  “Mood.  I guess that’s something we would have to work on.”

He nodded.  “At least we’ll know the signs.”  He cocked his head and shot her a bright smile.  “I like learning about you.  You were right before, I may know a lot about you, but I don’t know you.  I would like to change that though.”

She nodded.  “I think I’d like that too.”

His grin widened.  “Yeah?”

She nodded, her smile stretching to match his and God, if his eyes kept sparkling like that, her heart was going to stop beating.  “Yes,” she confirmed.

“How about I try again tomorrow night?  Is that too soon?  We can…”

“Dick!”  She waited until he’d stopped and faced her before continuing.  She snickered at his rambling.  Usually, it was her doing the rambling and everyone else watching on in bemusement.  She didn’t get to be the one on this side often… or ever.  “I’d love if we could try again and go out tomorrow.”

“Do you want to head back in?” he asked, nodding toward the patio doors.  “It looked like you were headed that direction when I came out.”

She looked over her shoulder for a few seconds but met his eye with a hopeful glint.  “I was only going in because I was so cold, but as soon as I thought it, there you were with a hoodie and a smile.”  She shook her head and let out a huff of air.  “I think that can be considered a sign that I’m right where I should be.  Unless you’d like to…”

“No!” he cut in.  “No,” he continued quieter, “I think Duke will understand if I miss a bit of his party.”  He scooted closer to her and tentatively set his arm behind her, relaxing into it when she smiled up at him.  “I’m right where I want to be.”

@maribat-calendar-events

[legomonkiemechz]

ROBY HEADCANONS LETS GOO

Warning Spoilors ofc-

He has a HIGH sugar intake

• His parents have scolded him in the past when doctors' notes came in talking abt if he takes anymore he'll croak

>Doesn't care tho still chugs soda among other sugary drinks like it is his life source

• When things get quiet/at random moments he'll just scream and then act like nothing happened

• Stang zoot / ROAR is a vocal stim for him now ( roar especially even if Wyle isn't around )

• On a call with his parents he talked abt Wyldfyre all giddy then just casually mentioned his uncle tried to kill him and then went back to being a giddy mess

>His parents were like "WHA!?? YOUR UNCLE WHAT?"

>And Roby's just like "Yeah yeah I sent him to jail but anyways!"

• Roby practices his mannerisms and energy in the mirror

> He is a naturally energetic guy don't get me wrong but he practices in the mirror to make sure he gives off a good type of energy that people will enjoy

>After every game he says to himself "YES, FCKING NAILED THAT- THEY ALL THINK I'M NEUROTYPICAL !!"

• Roby uses a lot of slang / silly language if he ever gets into serious conversation and if in conversation that makes himself uncomfortable as a defense mechanism

• He loves vocaloid/Uta

>He listens to The World Is Mine before the game to hype himself

> 1# Teto stan and defender

• Fav music genres are N-pop, regular pop, Rock ( any kind he doesnt mind), techno, and that hyper Pacific music that sounds like being on acid named things like "bong cats bleeding rainbows" or smth

• If he were a Pokmon trainer he would have normal, dragon, steel and fighting pokemon

• Based on the sugar headcanon at the start. He once did a challenge on his ninjatok where he didn't eat any sugar for a week

>By Wednesday he was losing his color and tweaking without a sweet treat after every meal ( he's being dramatic )

>And By the end challenge he almost couldn't even post the last video and once it was done he scarfed down a whole tray of sugar cookies

• He sweeps in sleep-over/party game. >Especially rhythm game !

>Wyldfyre invited him over to a sleepover and he mopped the floor with everyone in Rhythm Heaven, Guitar Hero and Ddr

>Eventually they switched to Mario's party but he swept everyone again

•>They just kept going through games ( super smash bros, Mario Kart, uno etc) eventually Gave up and made him sit on the couch as everyone else played

• If he knows you. He'll know your birthday. And the spilt second it turns midnight on the day before your b day he'll spam you with "HAPPPY BIRTHDAYY BITFHHH HAVE AMAZING FUN AND AWESOME BIRTHDAYY STANG ZOOT!!!!!!!" and then send a voice memo of him singing happy birthday but with brainrot words

• He has 5 phones, 3 laptops, 10 PCs and 15 game consoles. Don't think you can ever ban my man from any social media or game he'll always come back.

• Favorite fruits are mangos, raspberries, blueberries and tomatoes

• In one of the games Roby saw smth flying over their head and just stopped everything to stare at it. So for A good bit, there was just no commentary from him or shots of the fight it was just the camera facing down

• Robys a Lil nasty in terms of if he tries smth he doesn't like he projectile spits

• He's the biggest yapper when watching movies. Always commenting on everything and crafting theories on the spot

• He can recite the entirety of the Heather's musical to a t

• In his free time he guest host talk shows (like Jerry Springer/Oprah but imagine ninjago ver) and his FAVORITE thing is "You are not/are" the father

> He has ran laps around the studio as everything breaks into chaos after every single "are you or not the father" answer reveals

> He even got a show canceled after the incident of him going too far and sending a baby flying by accidentally kicking the baby's carage

• He loves playing roblox and claims his dad owns roblox ALWAYS

• Smells like satin fabric, charcoal, chocolate

• When he sleeps he goes "Honk mimimimimimi" and hugs a comically small teddy bear with a little sleeping cap

Anyways thanks for listing to me yap

[vivaladicamillo]

CELEBRATING DUNNS BIRTHDAY W/ THE CKY CREW

js a little blurb for ryans birthday! crazy how he would be 46 today :((, i miss him a lot everyday but hey at least today dico finally posted on the internet again! but hope u enjoy this little blurb abt u being ryans friend/partner and celebrating his birthday with him :))

WARNINGS: alcohol, drugs, thats it.

———————————————————

ryan when it comes to birthdays is kinda complicated

hes absolutely fine with spending his whole birthday comfy in bed, listening to music and relaxing

bc as we all know the man hates people

but he also loves his friends

so having a day were they all js hang out, talk, tell stories and maybe even have a few drinks together like old times is also just as good

hes not super complicated or would want any type of crazy over the top birthday

u could give him a jar of dirt for his birthday and he’d be like “thanks i was looking to start a in house jar garden anyways”

so when u and bam had to come together to plan a party for his 28th birthday

IT WAS ONN

u knowing ryan very well knew he wouldnt wanna do any big things involving strangers so probably no clubs

as u and bam talked it out yall decided to wake him up early. take him to breakfast, drive up to the country side and go camping in a field

bam knew a guy who knew a guy who had a field they can use, it was actually the same field that would become “state of bam” in viva la bam

so u call up the guys (minus ryan bc u and bam wanted it to be a surprise) and tell them the plan

everyones was so hyped

rake was bringing music, bam was bringing booze, raab was bringing the gear, dico was entertainment (yes he brought a whole ass speaker and mic to sing ryan happy birthday with) and u were in charge of the food

for food, once again u knew ryan like it simple, js some pizzas, wings, sandwiches, yk things that u could easily have at hand, but u also brought some things to cook over the fire like chicken and steak bc ITS A CAMPING TRIP!

u also brought cake and smoores stuff!

the plan was perfect!

early the next morning, u and bam get to ryans house, its abt 8:00 in the morning

the two of u find his spare key and sneak in, making ur way towards the basement where his room is

you and bam had stopped at the dollor tree to get hats and balloons and noise makers

so as u two snuck closer to his bed bam got the camera out and u counted

“ 3…2…1…”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” the two of u screamed and blew into the noise makers making ryan almost fly outta bed

“come on ry get dressed and oack a bag its gonna be a long day” you say

“…… how did u guys get into my house??” ryan says

you immediately point towards bam like a child getting rid of the blame on their sibling

after ry gets dressed and gets a small bag the three of u hop in the car and drive to the local ihop

“dont worry guys bills on me” bam says

“no way free ihop, thanks guys this is actually sick” ryan says not even being sarcastic

the three of yall sit down and get to talking, ryan ends up getting strawberry pancakes with a side of bacon bam gets some crazy fucking waffle that also has a face for some odd reason and u just get [whatever u want from ihop idk ur preference]

after breakfast and a lot of talking and story telling the three of u leave, with bam paying lol, and head to the final destination

ryan was fully convinced that u guys were hiring a hitman to take him out or something when bam started driving to the country side

it was always out of character for bam to PAY for something that didnt have to benefit him in some way

but u assured him from the backseat that nobody was gonna take him out

after a long ride of listening to rys fav bands you guys arrive and see raab and rake sitting on chairs around a fire pit while dico is up waving his arms around probably doing a skit to pass the time while waiting for u guys to arrive

“SURPRISE RYAN!” bam and u say

ryan was kinda in shock, growing up he lived in the country side (ohio) and used to go camping with his dad and brother a lot

“wow guys…i havent been camping since i was like ten, let alone with friends, thanks guys!” he gives the bpth of u a warm smile

the three of u meet with the rest of the group, all of them ready to give ryan their gifts

rake had gotten ryan these sick new glasses, the were similar to the ones he usually wears but in gold and black

raab got him a drawing of himself, painted from a guy he new and it looks sick, ryan was in shades of blue with a yellow background

dico got him a few graphic tees, some with just text on it (one saying mustang girl in glittery font) to shirts of his favorite bands

bam got ryan a bunch of cool mod decals for his cars, he also got him some things to mod his cars with, tools and such

and you got ryan 2 plane tickets to go to iceland, and a tour package thing to sight see and go to some new places the crew and him had never seen before, u told him he could pick anyone to go with him, from the crew, family, anyone it was his choice

he was so happy with all his gifts, they were all perfect but he liked urs the best, he ended up picking u to go on the trip with leaving bam to in the future by his own ticket so he could go with u (hes not missing a trip to iceland ofc)

after the gift opening the party begins

the night consisted drinking, dancing to music rake brought, telling jokes and stories, smoking a bit of weed and bran freestyling his heart out

it was a perfect night

the rest of the crew went to bed at 3:00am, dico being first then raab then rake then bam

u and ryan had stayed up still talking, watching the sky and reminiscing on early days

the two of u ended up falling asleep on a blanket in front of the first while star gazing

u had ur head on ryans shoulder as u was talking it made u fall asleep bc his voice was so calming

when he looked over u and were sleeping he wasnt mad

he pulled u closed and started to doze off himself

“thank you, so much, for the perfect birthday y/n.” he whispered as u slept

you really knew him well, he was so glad to have u in his life

the next morning the guys found the two of u put there, surrounded by red cups

but even tho u guys got woken up to the crew poking fun at u two

it didnt matter

because ryan was happy, his birthday went beautifully

and thats all that mattered to u

ryan being happy

—————————————

hope yall enjoyed the little drabble i decided to write out of nowhere. i promise u guys a pt 2 to the bams sister story will be coming soon, also a bam/reader/ryan will DEF be coming soon i js have been studying for finals week so ive been hella busy, with this story i tried my hardest to add some actual facts into it, like ryan living in ohio, the gifts he got, the things they did, etc,. sorry if its not exactly accurate i tried lol, see ya guys!

[robotlesbianjavert]

new bnha chapter/leaks... amazing. horikoshi truly has surpassed my expectations (but seriously, Opinion ?)

i'm weekday drinking so that's opinion number one.

it's a bit hard to kind of collect my opinion overall because between these leaks and last chapter it's all, like i figured more or less that the story would go this direction shigaraki and whatever the fuck is up with his deku and afo dynamics (But Really To This Extent???) but also did he really have to fold that quickly. deku didn't even do anything literal. it's all "well wouldn't it be nice if this had happened", all psychic vibes. except losing his arms i guess. thank god for that. but my favourite thing about shigaraki was always like, it was in fucked up destructive directions but he had grown to be so clear about what he wanted to do and the strength of will he would have to enact it. whenever he got talked around to not destroying everything, i still wanted him to give deku a proper ideological fight about it. i was hoping we'd be past the whole "by defeating afo we can truly free tomura/tenko from his despair blah blah blah" and actually dig into shigaraki as a holistic person rather than a crying child symbol. but then we weren't. okay! remember that beautiful golden era when afo was kinda funny.

anyways happy for deku and his bleeding out to death era. really hyped for that. really bold direction for horikoshi to take.

[itsparis-07]

welp here's the script i was hyping up, sooo i want you guys to treat this like first fic and I don't minds some tips and other comments and such...but anyways enjoy!

Brooklyn’s Kidz 

By: itsparis!!

INT. BEDROOM - AFTERNOON

MONIQUE, a short,brown skinned,and fairly chubby girl with short black and red dreads sits on her bed, waiting for something to happen. She looks at her phone.

As MILES, a tall,brown skinned, with twin braids, was drawing a portrait of his crush at his desk, he stops and dials her number.

Monique picked up her phone and pressed the answer button.

MONIQUE 

Hey Miles, I was hoping you’d call me earlier than this.

Miles

I know, it’s just that unc had me out there on patrol and well you know how that goes.

MONIQUE 

Right, so did you hear about the trip to Florida. It's for juniors this time.

MILES

Mhm… I’m going, don’t worry ma.

Monique smiles while playing with her dreads and kicks her feet back and forth. Miles adjusted himself on his bed against a pillow and sighs.

MILES

I'm guessing you’ve found someone to sit with?

MONIQUE

Nah, I wanna sit with you, that's why I didn’t ask anyone today.

MILES

Don’t play with me.

MONIQUE

I’m not,think about it Miles we’ll be in the middle and not in the back like last year.

MILES

Wait, why aren’t we sitting in the back again?

MONIQUE

Dude, what do you think happens in the back seats on a field trip with no teachers until we get to the hotel on a bus filled with juniors?

MILES

Oh. . . right, those kids go back there right?

Monique laughs, covering her face with her free hand and turns over to the left side of her bed and sighs to catch her breath.

MONIQUE

Bruh, sometimes I wonder how you got into visions with a brain like yours.

MILES

Maybe, it’s because I didn’t get in because of some program unlike some girl I know.

MONIQUE

Okay, and who helped you out in Spanish when your mom found out you almost got a C?

MILES

Aight, you got that one I’mma let it slide.

MONIQUE

(She sighs in pure bliss)

I love using that against you, speaking of your mom, how is she and your uncle?

MILES

They're okay, Ya know maybe we should bring some snacks and stuff for the bus ride.

MONIQUE

You mean like right now or tomorrow, because I was gonna go to theo’s after I called you.

MILES

Right now is fine, we can just walk there and you and I can just hang out in my room if you want.

MONIQUE

Yeah, I'm down.

She presses the red button to hand up, and puts her phone into her left pocket while getting off of her bed. She tied her high tops and walked out her room door. Miles does the same and walks out of his room letting his mom know where he’ll be until dinner.

FADE OUT :

INT.  SIDEWALK - EVENING

Monique stands outside of the store waiting for Miles, tapping her foot impatiently. She tucks her braids behind her ears. Miles crosses the street walking towards her. Monique looks up joyfully.

MONIQUE

Way to keep me waiting, And don’t use that “time is relevant” line because I will smack you.

MILES

Hey,You know that lines work, you laugh at it everytime.

MONIQUE

God, how are you from brooklyn and you're this corny?

MILES

 Just shut up and go in!

They walked in the store and looked at each other then looked around for snacks. They stopped at the drinks and both grabbed root beers.

MILES

So what else should we get, I mean food stamps can only get so much you know.

MONIQUE

Yeah I know, but some candy should do it or maybe some chips?

MILES

Hot cheetos!

MONIQUE

(She shivers)

EW, those things are practically made out of wax!

MILES

Huh?

MONIQUE

Remember in third grade, when you melted one on the playground and it actually happened?

MILES

Oh yeah, I forgot about that well whatever I’m still gonna eat em’.

MONIQUE

You're so disgusting.

Monique picks up a bag of sea salt chips, two cans of pringles, and a ginger ale, as Miles gets a bag of hot cheetos, some skittles,and some orange soda, as they both walk to the checkout counter Miles followed right behind her and paid for their stuff, they walked onto the sidewalk and continued walking forward down the sidewalk.

MILES

So, your place or mine?

MONIQUE

Yours,Anyways don’t you think it’s weird how we’re getting this high class trip to Miami, I mean like where did BVA get the money from to do these trips?

MILES

I mean it is a boarding school, so maybe like public funding or government funding?

MONIQUE

Yeah,sure. . .

MILES

So, who do you think is gonna be your roommate?

MONIQUE

I was hoping for you, but it’s obvious that we’re all going separated by gender and I don’t blame them.

MILES

What, You think some kids have the balls to sneak into each others rooms just to fu-

      (Monique covers his mouth mid sentence and lets go.)

MONIQUE

Stop and think for a minute, what happens when two idiot teenagers are alone with each other in the same room at night?

MILES

Okay but we’re young, it’s bound to happen plus with no teachers on the bus… yeah it’s not gonna go well.

MONIQUE

Ya think?!

Miles and Monique walked into a rooming house and shut the door behind them walking up to door 208. Miles opened the door greeting his mother RIO and closed the door behind him.

RIO

Miles, is that you?

MILES

Yeah, I’m back from the corner store with monique. 

RIO

Good, dinner should be done in a little bit. Monique, it's nice for you to come over again, how's your mother?

MONIQUE

She’s alright, I’m just over here to talk to Miles about the school’s trip to Florida. The school is giving the juniors a chance for a trip.

RIO

Right that trip, I’m just counting on you to keep my son in good shape and out of trouble.

MILES

Mami,I’m not a little kid any more I'm 16,Entonces no preocuparse por favor. 

RIO

Cortar el afuera mijo, don't tell me not to worry for your safety.

MILES

Ma,don't worry about me. I'll call you when me and monique get on the bus and when we get to the hotel,yo promesa.

Miles and Monique eat dinner as they finished they helped Rio washes dishes, afterwards They enter Miles’s room keeping the door creaked open sitting on his bed.

MILES

Aight, did we get everything for the trip tomorrow? 

MONIQUE

Yup, snack wise but everything else is up to us on what to pack like hygiene and clothes, but I mean this is our first trip till we’re seniors and the only time we won’t be wearing our uniforms.

MILES

True, so what time do you need to head home again?

MONIQUE

Before the streetlights,speaking of that rule, haven't you wondered why that was our curfew growing up?

MILES

I don't know, but I'm thinking about seeing all the pretty girls out there…

MONIQUE

Um, hello you have a girlfriend sitting dead in front of you!

MILES

Right, my bad mi vida.

FADE IN :

INT. IN THE FRONT OF THE SCHOOL - DAY

Miles, Monique, and other kids of the school stood outside waiting for the buses. Monique held Miles’s hand while on her other hand she was  biting her nails.

MILES

You're holding my hand a little tight there, you good?

MONIQUE

Yeah, it’s just what I’m feeling right now, I don’t know if I should be nervous or excited.

MILES

(spoke with a smile on his face)

You’ll be fine ma, you're sitting with me in the middle and I’ll just give you my earbuds.

MONIQUE

(sighs)

Thanks Miles, but I’m fine I just haven’t been on a trip in a minute ya know?

MILES

I get it, just take a deep breath and wait for the bus.

MONIQUE

(with a calm yet nervous tone)

Okay, I’ll try to calm down.

The school buses pulled up to the front of the academy. After every group got done with attendance from their teachers, each class walked on the buses and sat down in a seat with their baggage, Miles and Monique sat in a random three sitter in the middle row and sighed.

MILES

Well, this is it. I'm hoping we can go shopping or head to Universal or Disney world.

MONIQUE

And where’s the money to do all that Morales?

MILES

I have a job, it ain’t like I’m broke or something.

MONIQUE

(she says while laughing, she rolled her eyes and looked at him shaking her head.)

That doesn't mean you're rich either,look I have enough money for shopping but knowing visions they’d probably give a free trip to disney like they did with the seniors last year.

MILES

(He puts his earbuds in and starts a playlist called “MM ♥ ️ MJ” holding one out for her to take.)

 So, you wanna listen with me or do you wanna hear the yelling of screaming banshees?

MONIQUE (she takes the earbud and put its in her right ear and puts her head on his shoulder, she sighs as the bus starts to move looking out window. )

So you're not gonna call her yet, I mean your mom is still worried about you. 

MILES

Yeah I know, but… I’ll call her when we make it to the hotel or something.

MONIQUE

Alright, but can we please stop listening to post malone? like play some tyler or just anything else?

Miles rolled his eyes as he chuckled to her and put his hands on her waist. Monique smiled at him tuning out the rest of their class all at once and focusing on him.

FADE IN :

INT. A Gas station - EVENING  

A group of students were hanging around the gas station or going to the bathroom, miles and monique walked into the covenant store looking around.

MILES

So you gettin’ any snacks or drinks, because I got enough for a little something if you want.

MONIQUE

Maybe, but we still got the stuff we got from theo’s and that should hold us off for a bit.

MILES

Right, let’s go outside and wait till the bus is fueled up I guess.

They walked outside the store sitting on the curb, Monique pulled a blunt out her pocket lighting it and taking a small drag passing it to him.

MILES

Hey I wanted to ask, what did you see in me to like ask me out and stuff?

MONIQUE

Well, I mean you and me are like out of at least 15 other the only black kids there at visions,but besides all that I like that you're a geek and you're pretty,and your freckles are like stars in a way I don’t know but I'm bound to you.

MILES

Wow I mean, I like you too and that beauty mark of yours yeah I know about it you don’t even have to hide it,and if you’d let me can I take you out during the trip?

MONIQUE

(She scoffs at him, while taking a drag she passes it back to him.)

In your dreams Morales, but hey game recognize game don’t think I don’t know bout it.

MILES

 (He takes the last puff and steps on it, putting it out on the sidewalk and standing up with Monique.)

Yeah, whatever you say.

All the students got back on the bus and in their seats,as Miles and Monique went back to the middle row and sat down listening to their playlist getting lost in their own little world and the bus was back on the road again.

FADE OUT :

INT. HOTEL HALLWAY - NIGHT

Monique and Miles walked in the hallway until they stopped at a door with the numbers 103, and with a keycard she opened the door and let themselves in sitting on the bed.

MONIQUE

So, let’s fill out the plan sheet tonight then tomorrow we'll know what to do that day so we won’t be lost.

MILES

Do you ever not use a planner sheet? Monique, come on, at least try to have actual fun.

MONIQUE

But Miles I just wanna be sure. Also, did you call your mom yet because she called me and texted me “thanks for picking up and telling him when he gets back, we’re gonna have a talk.” 

MILES

(He sucked his teeth as he sat beside Monique on the bed.)

Wow, yeah that sounds about right… So do you wanna stay up or?

MONIQUE

Do you even have to ask?

They spent the whole time talking about anything yet nothing at the same time, again getting lost in their little world as the Florida rain fell from the sky hitting softly on the ground while the streetlight shining through the window.

Fade out :

Time lapse throughout the whole trip from different places from the mall, disney world, universal, and now it’s the last day after packing their things Miles and Monique joined the rest of their class along with teachers still doing attendance. The buses pulled up to the front of the hotel and all the students got on the bus and sat in the same seats that sat on the way there.

INT. IN FRONT OF BVA - AFTERNOON

After all the students got off the buses everyone’s parents came to pick up their kids, as miles and monique waited for miles’s uncle AARON to pull up and as if right on que he pulled up on the curb and the two got in the back.

AARON

So who’s this girl? I thought it was just you I was picking up.

MILES

Oh, this is my… partner Monique. She’s Ms.Jackson's daughter and they live on the same floor as me and mom.

AARON

And y'all haven’t?

MILES

 Just drive!

AARON

Alright alright, how was the trip? y'all had fun?

MONIQUE

Yeah, Florida was nice and didn't worry him and I didn’t get in much trouble.

AARON

Good, somebody has to keep a good eye on him if I’m not around and you seem to fit the role very well if his mom trusts you that much.

MONIQUE

Wow, so you are the problem child. I had a feeling about that.

MILES

(He playfully hit her shoulder while he laughed.)

Shut up, that was one time and one time only!

MONIQUE

Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that miles I mean whatever helps with the denial.

Fade in : 

INT. THE ROOMING HOUSE - EVENING

Aaron’s car pulled to the rooming house as Miles and Monique got out of the car they walked to the door, Miles pressed the buzzer letting his mom their back and Aaron's car pulled away and the two went inside and walked up the stairs and to their doors.

MILES

So, I’ll see you on monday?

MONIQUE

Dude, it’s not like I can skip school plus you're kinda the only reason I go anyways… Goodnight Miles.

MILES

Right, good night Moni.

She walked up to him giving a small kiss on his two toned lips, as they broke the kiss she smiled at him and walked inside her apartment, Miles doing the same.