#but i think the way you court guys might be a bit closer between their cultures

[hopeheartfilia]

lovr how chillchuck is enjoying that the party is too autistic for romance. they all think about their own things and arent even near dating territory.

( Id vote Laius and Kensuke most likely to date. Yes the sword. Love that for them. theyd date in a non romantic way btw. friends who sleep together and participate in weird canibalistic behaviour and got married for tax benefits but dont like each other romantically)

[itneverendshere]

BLESS HALLOWEEN - r.c (+18)

pairing: frat!rafe/ghostface!rafe x reader (uni au) warnings: no plot; smut

inspired by this audio (+18)

between midterms, a terrible class project partner, and your roommate constant need to fuck her boyfriend at any given hour of the day, you’re half asleep most days.

the only thing you should be doing is sleeping, anywhere, for hours, but instead, you let yourself get dragged to a halloween party. 

sure, you’re running on three hours of sleep and five cups of coffee, but heaven forbid you to miss a party because your roommate just had to be there. never mind that she’s been wearing her "not-so-pg sexy witch" costume since last tuesday, casting spells for her crush to notice her (like he doesn’t see half her skin every night anyway).

you look hotter than you'd like to admit. black mini dress? check. sky-high boots? check. a little lace mask that hides just enough to keep the mystery going? obviously.

you're not trying too hard, but you’re giving just enough to turn heads, with a vibe that says, “i might ruin your life, but you'll thank me for it."

you’re rocking some version of a "slutty masquerade," not that anyone could guess what that means, but it gets you a free drink within five minutes. and the best part? nobody knows it’s you.

the only downside is that you’re in his territory.

it could be anywhere, but it’s happening at his frat.

your project partner, personal headache and resident menace, rafe cameron holds court here like he’s king of the idiots.

he’s hot, you’ll give him that, guy’s all charm until it’s time to work; then he’s as useless as that cheap foundation your roommate keeps borrowing.

and now you’re here, half hoping to avoid his face entirely—his smirk that screams "’m getting credit off your hard work" and that irking attitude that makes him think he’s doing you a favor.

as if seeing him once a week in class isn’t enough of a problem. you pull your mask down a bit lower, not that he’d recognize you through the lace, but just in case.

against all odds, you’re having a good time. the drinks are good—something sugary—and you find yourself laughing, loosening up.

mid-laugh, you walk straight into someone, practically face-plant into a solid chest. you stagger back, the guy's hand catching your elbow to hold you, and you look up, only to be met with a ghostface mask.

“ohh, sorry,” he says with an amused chuckle like he's getting a kick out of startling you. "sorry, sorry—i  didn’t mean to scare you," he adds, not sounding remotely apologetic.

you raise a brow, your lips curving just slightly. “hmm, you sure? cause it kinda looks like you enjoy it."

he puts a hand up in mock innocence. “nah, i swear, completely unintentional,” 

you blink up at him, squinting against the red lighting to catch a better look at his mask. it’s honestly a little creepy up close, that ghostface grin somehow twisting a bit more under the lights and crowd. but you’re in the mood to get laid tonight.

"nice costume,” you don’t bother to hide the way your eyes stuck to every corner of his body, “scary.”

he doesn’t catch it though, leaning down, head tilting, “what?” he asks, chuckling a bit as he stands closer. “yeah, sorry—the music’s way too loud.”

rolling your eyes with a little attitude, you repeat yourself, a bit louder. “i said, your costume’s scary.”

he nods, shaking his head like he’s relieved, and rubs the back of his neck, as if this mask isn’t hiding the flush you think you see creeping up his neck. “oh, thanks. yeah, uh, you look…” his voice trails off a little, and he clears his throat, swallowing. “you look pretty, uh, scary too.”

you raise a brow, "you think so?"

he nods again, “yeah, ’m terrified of hot women, so…”

the music cuts him off this time around, his words getting lost in the heavy bass, it’s harder to know what he’s saying when you can’t read his lips. you frown, stepping closer into his space. “hmm?”

the guy practically jolts, “nothing, nothing—it’s, uh…” he stammers, then gestures at your face, his fingers brushing near your mask. “it’s a cool mask.”

you smile, amused. “thanks, ghostface. should i be, y’know, scared of you?”

 “i don’t know, that depends. should i be scared of you?”

"nop, you're cute. i like where this is going."

the guy’s mask tilts, there’s smidge of surprise in his voice. "really? so—so you’re into masks and, like, the whole psycho-killer thing?”

you shrug nonchalantly, letting your gaze drag over him slower. "only if they're hot and built like you."

there's a short pause, and you can practically feel the amused smile hidden under his mask. “oh, okay, yeah, yeah—so what is it? do you like being scared, or?”

there’s something about a guy like him—tall, broad-shouldered, who could probably break you in half without even trying. and honestly? you like that kind of shit. you’ve always wanted a guy who could cover you with his entire body, who’d tower over you in a way that was intimidating enough to make your heart pound. 

the kind that, if you begged nicely, might just be able to cut off your oxygen in bed with one hand. and here he is, looking like he could throw you around a little if you wanted him to. which you might. his hand still hovering near your waist isn’t exactly subtle either—it’s like he knows, somehow. either way, you keep your expression smooth, not giving him anything, it’s more fun that way.

you let out a giggle that’s only partly mocking. "maybe i just like danger, ghostface. or maybe i like watching people squirm."

“holy shit, that’s fucked up.”

you take a slow sip of your drink, watching his shirt cling to his chest as he takes a deep breath, every inch of that body sculpted to the fucking gods like it was made for nights like this. shit, that’s a nice body. 

you can’t help the sly smirk that pulls at your lips as you murmur, “what’s wrong with liking it rough?”

he snickers, almost breathlessly, and you know you’re getting to him. “there’s something a little wrong with you.”

yeah, there is. you almost blurt out the truth—that your panties are drenched and practically glued to your skin because of him, that he’s got you feeling hornier than you’ve felt in a long time. but you choose to let your fingers trail down his arm, slow and teasing. 

“you think so?” you faux-pout, giving him a look that’s all dark lashes and bad intentions.

he swallows, stumbling over his words. “y-yeah, i mean, there’s some things you need to… work on.”

you tilt your head, smiling in that way you know drives guys crazy, leaning in just enough to make him catch his breath. “would you like to help me?”

he stares at you, goosebumps rising along his arm where your fingers still rest, visibly caught off guard, “what does that mean?”

with a wicked grin, you reach up, wrapping your manicured hands around his neck, his breath all but halting as you pull him down until his face is level with yours. his breath hitches, and you take your time, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear, enough to make him shiver. 

“you find me upstairs,” you murmur, voice dripping with promise, “and ’m all yours. okay?”

instead of waiting for him to process it, you’re already sneaking off into the crowd, leaving him rooted. you don’t try looking back, already feeling his stare burning into you, dazed and desperate as he takes in what you just promised. you don’t second guess yourself once, you know he’s coming.

by the time he shakes himself out of his trance, you’re halfway up the stairs.

at the top, you stop, one quick peek over your shoulder to check if he’s still watching.

you push open a random door and slip into an empty room, locking eyes with yourself in the mirror. hair a little wild, eyes glinting with that mischievous glint you know all too well. you adjust your mask, the lace sitting just right over your cheekbones. you pull your dress higher, letting it ride up just a little higher, admiring the way the fabric clings to you, showing off every curve.

you turn the lights off, letting the room fall into shadows. he’ll have to work for it if he wants to find you. you can imagine the way he’ll hesitate, hand hovering over the doorknob, wondering what the hell he’s getting himself into. 

why make it easy for him?

rafe watches you leave, standing there like a fucking idiot, heart hammering in his chest as he replays what just happened. the words “find me upstairs, and i’m all yours” looping in his mind like a mantra. the confidence in your voice, the way you looked at him like you already knew he’d be following—fuck, it’s enough to make him hard just thinking about it.

he swallows, trying to be calm as he looks around, but there’s no hiding the way his breathing’s quickened, how his body is buzzing at the thought of finding you, alone, in a dark room, just waiting for him.

you’re playing with him, he tells himself, but he doesn’t care. he’s going to go after you anyway.

pushing through the crowd, he’s half-dazed, talking to himself under his breath, almost wheezing out a series of what the fucks. his grip wraps around the banister as he ascends the stairs, his fingers still itching from where you’d brushed against him. he feels completely out of his element. girls flirt with him all the time, he’s with girls all the time, sure, but this—this is different. 

he always been a sucker for a good challenge and you’d practically left him in the dust, tossing back that promise without even checking if he’d follow.

at the top, he pauses, looking down the hallway, every door holding the possibility that you might be behind it, waiting. 

rafe feels that thrill coil in his stomach, his heart pounding in anticipation. he’s like a kid on halloween night, trick-or-treating at the house he’s always been too afraid to knock on. but you dared him, so there’s no way he’s backing out now.

he starts with the first door, pushing it open only to find it empty, checking the shadows, in case you’re hiding, but nothing. he goes into the next door, finding a couple already in there, and quickly shuts it again, eyes slamming shut, ignoring their annoyed stares as he backs out.

third time’s the charm, yeah? he thinks, reaching for the next door and pulling it open. the door creaks as it swings shut behind him, his footsteps are slow, hesitant, and the scuff of his shoes against the floor makes him cringe. 

it takes him a second for his eyes to adjust to the dark, pupils dilating as he walks further inside.his breathing is loud and uneven, almost like he’d run all the way here. he stops in the middle of the room, his chest rising and falling hard, his breath painfully audible. 

his heart is doing an annoying thing, pounding, and he swears he can hear it.

did he misread you? the space is eerily quiet, he can’t help but wonder if he’s been set up, if you’re somewhere downstairs, laughing at how eagerly he followed your trail up here like a fucking dumbass.

rafe scans the room’s edges, searching, and he notices a quick movement in the corner—something. he swallows he leans forward a little, squinting to make out any familiar shape.

“you wanna play hide and seek?” he calls out, hoping he’s not making a fool out of himself, “is that it?” he’s taking gulps of air, feeling dizzy from being in the dark for so long, “you like this?”

a quiet giggle echoes from one of the corners, inviting, and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. you’re playing this game too well, lurking just beyond his reach, and the longer he waits, the more desperate he feels.

he swallows, his mind spiraling as he steps walks around, slow and cautious, hands slightly trembling. he’s caught off guard by just how badly he wants you; the way you kept looking at him like he was the prey downstairs, has him all kinds of worked up. 

his cock stirring against his jeans is proof enough. 

“you want me to scare you or somethin’?” he provokes you, praying it’s enough to lure you out, “you think it’s smart? letting a stranger chase you into a room, with no one else around. you’re all alone with me.”

“who says you’re that dangerous?”

the second the words leave your mouth, rafe’s resolve slips. 

it’s maddening, the way you’re hiding from him, how your voice seems to come to him from every dark corner of the room. he shouldn’t have drowned two shots before following you, but the liquid courage had been tempting. 

you’re keeping him on a tight leash, making him wonder if he’s got a shot or if you’re just messing with his head. he wants to see you again, your expression—wants to read you, even if the last time he tried, he ended up with his mind in knots.

“you don’t even know my name,” he muses, taking a couple steps closer to the closet, “does that make it more fun for you? that you don’t know anything about me?”

his movements are cautious, almost reverent as if you’re something sacred and forbidden all at once. he stops, opening the doors, leaning inside as he half-whispers, “not here, huh?” no answer, just silence, but he swears he can feel you watching him, your gaze prickling his skin, almost burning, “where are you? c’mon come out, i’ll go easy on you.”

he sighs, sounding like more of a frustrated exhale. no sign of you anywhere. he shakes his head, letting out a soft laugh, more amused than annoyed. 

“be a good girl and come out.”

rafe stalks around the room with the focus of someone hunting prey, his footsteps deliberate, his hands gliding along the walls and over furniture. he reaches the small bathroom door adjacent to the room, his fingers tightening around the handle. his lips pull into a smirk as he pauses—listening. 

the room’s quiet, but then, he hears it: the faint, uneven rhythm of your breathing, a quickened inhale, almost as if his words had finally affected you. he stops dead, dropping his hand from the door and turning around with a dark gleam in his eyes. 

“wait—wait,” his voice lowers with satisfaction, with the thrill of the chase. he lets out a breathy chuckle, his eyes roving the room as he zeroes in on where you’re hiding. “i can hear you, can hear you breathing.” 

he takes a slow, taunting step, his head tilting, as though he’s relishing the way you’re fighting to stay silent, to keep control. 

“what’s the matter? you sound a little…” he trails off in a murmur, enjoying the tables turning. “...shaken up. are you scared?”

your breath slips, just enough to betray you and his lips quirk up.

“i know exactly where you are.” with lazy confidence, he walks over to the far corner where the heavy velvet curtains seem to pool against the floor, drawn closed over the tall, narrow window. 

his fingers brush the fabric, his eyes narrowing as if he can feel the warmth of you just on the other side. then, in one smooth motion, he grabs the curtain and yanks it open. 

“caught you.”

moonlight spills in, illuminating you both. in a second, you’re pressed against the wall, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and his eyes rake over you, lingering on the way your costume accentuates every curve of your body. 

he steps in close, his silhouette blocking the light as he cages you in, one hand pressing against the wall beside your head, the other landing on your waist. his gaze drops to your lips, taking time to roam the way you’re biting your lip.

you tilt your chin up, “maybe i just like trouble.” 

rafe’s grip on your waist tightens in response, a hunger that he can’t hide, while he’s memorizing the way you’re looking up at him, ready to push him just as far as he can take it.

“you’re in trouble, alrigh’,” he shakes his head, while his hand inches down, slipping lower along your body until his thumb brushes against the curve of your hip, “don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

your fingers slide up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath the thin fabric of his black shirt, the way his heart hammers from your touch alone.

“maybe that’s what i want,” you whisper, tipping your head up so your lips brush against his mask.

he shudders, and you let your fingers trail slowly down, tracing over the line of his collarbone. rafe swallows hard, his body thrumming with tension. his eyes dropping to your mouth once again, wishing he’d been smart enough to take the mask off, so he could kiss you. 

“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he breathes, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise. he’s already melting under your touch, the desperation in the way he holds onto you confessing just how badly he needs it.

“you want me?” you ask, watching his pupils dilate as you lean in even closer, close enough that he can smell the fruity trace of your drink on your breath trough the mask, the lingering sweetness making him light-headed.

 jesus fucking christ where have you been all his life?

“yeah,” he mutters, voice strained, eyes half-lidded as he stares down at you, “i want you.” his hand trails up your side, down the line of your dress, stopping just at the hem. he hesitates, holding himself back for your sake, the look in his eyes begging for permission, daring you to say something, to let him go further.

you smirk, letting your fingers slip lower, grazing over the top of his waistband, “’m already so wet for you.”

a rough, almost growling sound escapes his throat as his fingers taunt around you, his control slipping at the admission. “yeah?” he grunts, letting his hand glide under the hem of your dress, his fingers inching higher, grazing along the sensitive skin of your thigh, “lets find out.”

the first brush of his fingers against your thong sends a shiver from your head to your toes, his smirk growing. he’s bold now, unapologetic as he moves them up, grazing the thin barrier of fabric between his hand and you.

your panties are ruined, drenched, and stuck to you most uncomfortably, he can tell from the way you keep pushing your hips forward, begging him to do something. 

he doesn’t think twice before using two fingers to pull the sticky fabric to the side.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself, “all this for me?”

you have to bite your lip to stop a moan from slipping out when he finally touches you properly. two of his long, thick fingers press against your entrance, sliding into you with no resistance. the feeling of your cunt clamping around him makes his cock twitch. 

he works you open, even the slightest touches have you arching your back from the wall. the need in his eyes turns ravenous with every desperate little gasp you let out. he moves slowly, deliberately, feeling the warmth of you clenching around his him, as he curls his fingers just right, 

“you’re so wet, ah, yeah—you’re gonna scream for me?”

his thumb finds your clit with ease, and he presses down, drawing gentle circles that make your knees buckle. he grins, drinking in every sound you’re trying to bite back. his thumb stays steady over your clit, circling with the perfect rhythm, applying just enough pressure to keep you breathless.

“c’me here,” his other hand moves with swift, easy dominance, capturing your wrists and pinning them above your head, holding you firmly against the wall,” you like this shit?” 

“you’re gonna fuck me with the mask on?” you grind yourself harder against him, practically delusional from the way he’s making you feel, “kinky.”

he's mesmerized by the way your breasts jolt underneath your dress with each shaky breath you take, your skin feels feverish, heat radiating off it like a furnace.

“just like you wanted,” he promises, his voice filled with satisfaction as his thumb presses down harder, coaxing a soft whimper from your lips. “go on, let me hear it—ride my hand.”

he tightens his hold on your wrists, keeping you perfectly in place, not prying his eyes away from how your brows frow with every grind. 

“fuckkkkk, do that again,” you whine when he hits a particular spot, your walls tightening around him in a way that makes him want to stop the foreplay and fuck you right away.

rafe leans forward to coo praise into your ear, “like this?” your skin is sticky with sweat—some saliva too—his. he’s never been this fucking hard in his life. he slows down on purpose, to torture you, doing anything in his power to make you beg, “ooh look at you— a fuckin mess.” he taunts.

“don’t be an asshole,” you groan, fingers itching to be set free, and grab his shoulders so you can slam down on him harder, “you gotta make me cum if you wanna fuck me.”

he runs deep circles into your clit making you press your legs together, knowing that he's getting exactly what he wants makes him chuckle into your skin. by this point as he mindlessly humps against your writhing body, he’s peeking down, taking a moment to admire the mess of slickness between your thighs.

“you want more?” you’re so caught up in the feeling that you don’t notice his hand leaving yours, wrapping it around your neck, pulling you closer to him, “answer me”

“another finger,” you spit out when he tightens his grip on your neck, the added touch having you on the brink.

rafe doesn’t even look at you, too entranced by your mess to make eye contact. he never got so lost during sex, but your pussy’s making him intoxicated to the point where his senses are dull, and the part of him that’s fully aware is his dick. 

he’s not even inside you yet, and still, he can cum just from seeing you ride his fingers. “another?”

he groans at the way one of your hands move to flex over his, watching in amusement as you try to get him to add one more finger. he mutters a low, gruff “good girl” as he slides a third finger in, pressing just deep enough to make your legs tremble, since you asked so nicely.

“think you can handle more?” rafe prods, “you’re so tight, don’t think you can take me.”

the way his fingers work, methodical and relentless, leaves you barely able to breathe, let alone answer.

“i could take t-two of you,” you tease, letting a breath out, and turning your head to face him. god you wondered if he looked good under that mask, but if he was this good in bed, who fucking cared.

“the only thing you’re taking is this fucking costume off,” he grumbles against your shiny lips, fanning like a wild animal catching the scent of its prey. he’s already tugging at the material, pulling the straps to the side before you can, nudging it aside, “look at you. gotta get my hands on you.”

rafe moves his attention to your breast and squeezes firmly, the tips of his fingers clasping down on your nipple, pressing and pulling as he chases after those sweet sounds that leave your lips.

“look at these tits, fuck” he rasps, eyes trailing over your chest and savoring every inch, his breath almost a snarl, “this’ what you wanted?”

you pressed your lips to his neck, ignoring the deep rumble in his chest as you sucked marks into his flesh, nipping him less than gently. grunting at a particularly rough bite you landed just under his adam’s apple, “i wanted your cock not your finger—"

his pitches your nipple harder making you squirm, “watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

the way you’re creaming his hand should be illegal, but this man is clearly sent from above. someone finally listened to you and gave you exactly what you needed to survive your dry spell. 

you reach down to cup him up through his jeans, “or what?”

he moans, head dropping to your shoulder, “fuck,” he mutters, his tone conveying that he’s just as distracted, watching how your puffy folds glisten with your arousal.

“hmmm, can’t hear you ghostface.”

rafe’s too entranced to put you in your place, you’ve got him eating out the palm of your hand. the sounds of your pussy sucking in his fingers are obscene, the simple act of your hand grazing cock has his knees buckling.

he can feel his heart beating miles a minute and he swears he could die right there, his hand coming down to grip the swell of your ass, kneading it firmly. you sigh contently with every slow drag of his hand, your head falling on his shoulder, nipping at his neck no doubt marking him up again.

“open your mouth.” you lift your head immediately, no smartass bullshit coming out of your lips, he chuckles breathlessly at your impatience, fingers moving from your ass to your parted hole, “suck my fingers, go on.”

it’s hard to make any coherent thought when his fingers are still inside you, dragging against your spongy walls deliciously, but your tongue automatically slips around his digits, doing your best to suck them down your throat. you’d never felt so willing to let a man bend you however he wants to, hushed curses escaping your occupied mouth, raking your nails down his arm. 

“good girl, yeahhhh, that’s it,” he grunts when you prod his skin harder, “you like diggin’ your nails into me, like it rough, huh? ‘course you do,” he stammers out when you clamp harder around him, your slick making everything slippery, “course you fucking do.”

with his fingers buried deep inside you and your lips wrapped around his other hand, rafe’s fully intoxicated, drunker than he can ever get. the sounds you make, he never wanted to taste something so bad, if it wasn’t for his stupid mask—

“take this thing off—" he grinds his hips into you, the rough fabric of his jeans pressing deliciously against your bare skin, teasing you, while his hand leaves your mouth to do nothing else but rip your panties apart.

you let out a huff, glancing down at what’s left of your underwear as he tosses it aside like nothing, already sliding his back up your thigh, “you’re paying for those.”

“whatever you want.”

you’re already occupied with his stupid belt, fingers quickly working to take the damn thing off, pawing at him to help. it’s only then he leaves your pussy unattended, settling his hold on your hips while you fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them and snapping them open, his bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers. 

he grabs the underside of your thigh, picking your leg up and wrapping it around his waist, backing you two further into the wall, eyes gazing into yours, even though you can’t see him. why the fuck do your eyes look so familiar?

the tip of his dick kisses the skin of your pussy, the firm head bumping against your clit as he rubs himself against you, “happy?”

looking down, you watch his cock slide back and forth between your thighs, the friction making heat slowly rise in your core, warmth swarming in your chest. he’s so fucking big. you watch him, eyes half-lidded, your legs aching from the position, almost drooling from the sight alone. 

you don’t know how much longer you can let him tease you.

“so happy,” you nod, not tearing your attention from him.

“yeah?” he cocks his head to the side, brows furrowed, concentrating not to cum on the spot with the way you’re eating his cock alive just with your pretty little eyes, “you’re gonna let a stranger fuck you?”

rafe reaches down, teasingly rubbing the tip of his dick over your folds, tracing it over your clit a few times. you look up, lips curling into the most earth-shattering smirk.“i can always find someone el—"

you both groan when he slides into you with no warning, your warm walls enveloping him perfectly, sucking him in like a vice, a perfect tight fit. he pumps you so full, not waiting for any adjustment, your walls fluttering around his girth, thick tip slightly curved up from your position.

“fuck, fuck, fuckkk,” he drawls out, rolling his hips in tight circles, slowly fucking into you, dragging himself along your walls to learn what you like, “this pussy, oh—so good.”

your head falls back against the wall, sighing in pleasure. you want him to let go and beat your walls loose, especially when he looks so good doing it. you melt into him, body sagging, downright losing it with how easily he holds you up and still pounds relentlessly into you, your breathing picking up with his change of pace. 

he’s so strong.

“this good enough for ya?” he murmurs against your ear, picking on the way your body shudders, a scream for anyone outside that door to hear, “hmm? you like my voice, right here?”

“you’re gonna make me cum,” you feel yourself grip him harder, his thick cock stretching you open, dragging out moan after moan from your lips, “oh my god.”

it’s the sweetest torture, the way his pelvis smacks against your tummy with every thrust, barely even pulling out to roll back into you.

“such a fuckin’ slut, aren’t you?” he growls, “letting a stranger fuck you open—holy shit, holy shit,” he hisses, almost as if he’s in pain, when you teasingly whine your hips back into him, fluttering at the low sound he breaths right by your ear.  “shit, you’re squeezing—fuck.”

“you’re so b-big,” you wheeze at a rough thrust, hand coming down to press against his lower stomach.

“yeah? good enough for you, huh?” his hips increase in rhythm, rocking into you, his thrusts precise, beating against your g-spot with vigor, “takin’ it so good baby.”

by now you’re seeing stars in your vision from the white-hot pleasure shooting up your spine, smart mouth forgotten, “harder.”

“harder?” he’s fucking into you at such a pace you feel like he’s gonna split you in half, “don’t think you can take it.”

“please.”

it sounds too pretty coming out of your mouth. having a girl like you beg feeds his ego like nothing else. 

he buries himself so deep, his pelvis is pressed hard against the hilt of your mound, fingers coming down to pinch and roll your neglected clit between his fingers.

“fucking take it then.” rafe snaps his hips with every word, glaring into your teary eyes. 

you gasp, nodding your head frantically, too fucked out to even use your words properly when he bottoms out properly, leaving you entirely only to slam inside harder than before. you squeal, not expecting him to use his entire body strength to almost fold in half while you’re still standing.

“no one can h-hear you down here, go ahead,” your mouth runs dry as you feel his body helplessly pressing into yours, “lemme hear those pretty noises, c’mon, scream f’me.”

you’ve never moaned so loud in your life, hands coming up to tweak your nipples, him filling you to the brim, “w-where the fuck have you b-been?”

he chuckles, though it comes out strained, “right here,” he makes a point by ramming into your g-spot perfectly, “hold your leg up f’me.”

for once in your life, you do as you’re told while focusing on his clothed stomach, feeling it constrict with every deep breath he takes. 

“you look so pretty like this,” you hear him praise you, one of his hands sliding down the span of your back, coming down to wrap around your hair and forcing your head up, “could fuck you for hours.”

the tip of his dick is kissing right against your cérvix, “not stopping you.”

“yeah? that’s how good is it?” he laughs, “can’t believe stranger cock does it for you.”

you open your mouth to speak, probably to give him shit about how he wouldn’t stop teasing you, but your words run dry as you feel the familiar sensation of his fingers playing with your overstimulated clit. motherfucker.

your body tenses as he builds up the pressure, and a strangled symphony of your wails leaves your sore throat. it’s too much and not enough at the same time, the pressure of his cock as well as his fingers, he’s quite literally fucking you dumb. 

“nothin’ to say now, huh?”

the better it feels, the farther gone you’re in your mind, “s-shut the fuck up.”

if you were with someone else, it would bother you that your tits are quite literally out while he’s still dressed, besides the jeans pooling by his ankles, but that stupid black wife beater looks mouthwatering on him. 

somehow the outfit and the mask add to the allure, not knowing who’s behind it, but still letting him treat you like a rag doll. you’re bouncing down onto him, almost sniffling as your pussy’s still twitching and soaking, so close to your well-deserved orgasm.

“cum inside,” your head’s starting to sting from how bad you need to cum,“please.”

rafe swears he almost falls on his ass, “what?”

“inside,” you grit out, eyes closed in bliss, “want to feel you cum inside.”

he lets out a groan at the way you say it, “are you serious? oh fuck, what a little cock-slut.” he can’t help but let out a chuckle at your fucked-out state, lost in the chase of your own pleasure to care about how pitiful you look right now, “you’re gonna cum around me? go on,” he coos, kneading at the flesh of your thighs.

you nod, slipping out a high-pitched ‘mhm’, knowing this shit is about to hit you like a train. you arch yourself into him, whimpering lewdly and cutting small moon crescents into his shoulders with your long nails.

rafe feels like he’s lost all ability to fuck anyone else but you, growling at the filthy thoughts swimming through his mind, the urge to fill you up with his cum getting stronger as he enjoys watching you. 

a strained whimper escapes you as you lean forward to bury your head in his shoulder, groaning against the skin, “don’t stop.”

“n-never stopping, c’mon,” you swear you see stars while he’s slipping out curses and praises that you’re not even sure make sense. “holy shit, yeahh, fuck.”

he applies a little more pressure to your clit and that’s all it takes for you to be gone, your chest touching his, blinding flashes of paradise filling your vision as you leave reality, having it ripped away from you. 

your mouth is parted in the most beautiful oh shape he’s ever witnessed. tears are streaking down your eyes and he can’t help but be turned on by them.

“oh! fuck, fucking—” you squeeze your eyes shut, having no idea how you pulled the words out between continuous sobs that escape from you.

rafe feels like a fucking creep, he can’t take his eyes off you for the life of him, hips snapping animalistically into your pussy while he grunts, groans, and cries as he talks you through it, “that’sss itt, so good, so fuckin’ perfect.”

he tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. 

he’s chasing his orgasm while he watches yours; he all but whines when he releases inside of you, not slowing down in the slightest as he makes sure you take every drop. his hand comes down on your stomach forcing you back down with his python grip, feeling his bulge right there makes his eyes roll as his hand tightens on your waist. you’re still clenching and spasming as you milk him dry, “fuckin’ take it.”

his hips don’t let up, grinding into your core despite him already finishing inside of you. for another ten minutes.

five minutes later, you’re both a little hazy from the endorphin rush, still processing. once he pulls away, rafe feels a lazy grin stretching across his face, feeling more satisfied than ever. unlike the past hour, the room isn’t filled with your moans, but complete silence as you both try to breathe like normal people again, collecting yourselves, adjusting clothes, and then there’s an unspoken agreement that maybe, it’s time to see who’s behind the masks.

you fumble with the edges of the fabric, hesitating for a moment before finally pulling them off, unveiling each other’s faces.

you freeze, staring at him in disbelief.

“you gotta be fucking kiddin’ me,” you nearly burn a hole through his head, eyes narrowing with pure annoyance as you process this disaster, voice dripping with irritation, “what the fuck? rafe?”

he’s completely still, staring at you with his mouth wide open, eyes wide like he’s just seen a ghost—everything you’re hurling at him is going in and out his ears. the realization that he just spent the last hour fucking you is making him dumber. the girl he’d been thinking about, dreaming about, wanting more than he’d ever admit, even to himself.

the anger in your eyes, the annoyed way you’re crossing your arms and glaring at him—it’s so perfectly you. he’s watched you in class a hundred times, always stealing glances when you weren’t looking or cursing his ass off, catching little glimpses of your attitude that only made him want you more. 

but he’d never thought he’d get a moment like this. 

bless halloween.

“are you even listening to me?” you snap, catching his starstruck expression, waving a hand in front of his face. “hello? earth to cameron? stop looking at me like a puppy, this was a mistake.”

more than a mistake. you can’t believe you just fucked the reason why you didn’t want to come to the party in the very first place. 

and the worst part is that you’d do it again.

“i…i just…wow,” he breathes, “it’s really you.” he lets out an incredulous laugh, rubbing a hand over his jaw “can’t believe it.”

you groan, rolling your eyes and shaking your head in exasperation. “are you serious right now?

“can i eat you out?”

you blink, realizing you’ve been staring, “what?”

he takes a step closer, filling the small space between you. you swear the sound of his next words drag a whimper from your throat, “can i eat you out?”

you nearly choke to death as his hand ghost near your waist, the barest brush of contact, sending sparks dancing across your skin, “right now?”

rafe leans down to your size, eager to get on his knees and taste you.

“why not?”

well, fucking damnit.

dont go fucking strangers with ghostface masks at random parties

[yestrday]

so imagine offhandedly complimenting the third years about something niche, like diluc's bangs or venti's skin, or maybe kaeya's veins, and the next day they start trying to show off those niche parts about themselves to an embarrassing degree

and make that a request from me because I'd love to see how the third years would embarrass themselves, especially in front of the first and second years.

: ̗̀➛ YOU BETTER STOP WHILE YOU'RE AT IT...

one little compliment and these third years won't stop flaunting themselves. as always, harem shenanigans ensue.

( harem shenanigans, they're just silly guys here :p, nevermind the murder and manipulation that goes behind the scenes )

"what are they doing?" aether asks his sister, sharing her amused smile. lumine shrugs, sipping on her slurpee as she continues to entertain herself with their antics.

"embarassing themselves," she simply answers, and hands the drink to aether for him to sip on too.

CHILDE is rolling up his track pants as he's shooting hoops at the outdoor court. what better way to show off those sculpted thighs that you oh-so love as he's jumping and running around. he might have gotten carried away with it, with how high up he's rolled them that they're practically shorts. even his own teammates are a bit flustered as they sneak glances at his bare thighs and blush. childe, of course, does not care about their gaze when he's busy sneaking glances at you on the bleachers.

"my, senior childe, you look positively straight out from an erotica!" xingqiu comments while childe is chugging down water on his break. the younger boy is smiling at him with faux innocence, but he can clearly see the mocking in his eyes. "such a bold choice of fashion and for what? mx [y. name] is too invested in their book to bother looking at you." childe puffs his chest out in pride. "you wouldn't know, kid, especially with those skinny thighs of yours, but [y. name] adores these babies." he gives his thighs a firm slap, and the taut skin barely jiggles. "so how about you fuck off and study your voodoo shit with your boyfriend?" xingqiu rolls his eyes. "it was one compliment."

VENTI knows no shame, rolling up his school uniform to show off his navel. he's the effeminate type of boy, and he finds pleasure in catching you sneaking glances at him before quickly looking away with a blush. he could only guess what kind of inner turmoil must be going in that pretty head of yours! with a mischievous smile, he saddles up to your side and revels in your surprised squeak. guiding your shaking hand to his side, he welcomes your palm on the plush on the side of his tummy. then he watches how your face explodes into a million different shades of red before you fizzle out and slump into the crook of his neck with a pathetic whimper.

"s-senior venti...!" bennett squeaks, hiding his blushing face with two hands the moment he walks in and sees you two in such a promiscuous position on the bench. "th- i don't...! i think that's highly inappropriate!" venti pouts, snuggling even closer to you in spite of his junior's admonitions. "eh~? no way, this is a ve~ery normal behavior between loving seniors and their dear juniors! besides!" he points a finger at bennett (now daring to look at them through the gaps between his fingers) and wags it. "if you wanna even have a shot at [y. name], then you gotta take the initiative!" but bennett sighs sadly, looking at his senior's smooth tummy and his scarred one. "but i'm not as pretty as you :("

these days, KAEYA has been taking off those leather gloves and rolling up his white sleeves so he can flex those veins whenever he gets. women and men alike swoon whenever he swaggers down the hallways with such a scandalous getup, and even you find himself flustered and stealing peeks whenever he offers to carry your bag for you. the sinful trail of those veins bulging from his dark skin and fading back, paired with the captivating grin he sends your way whenever he catches you staring... it's all a bit too much!

SMACK! kaeya is taken by surprise when he feels a dull impact on the back of his head. you are surprised as well, and the two of you turn around to see cyno holding a rolled-up newspaper like it's a weapon. he continues staring blankly at kaeya, who looks back at him incredulously and says, "what... was that for?" SMACK! again, the perpetrator hits him with the newspaper on the forehead this time. "indecent exposure." SMACK! "roll down your sleeves," SMACK! "button up your cleavage," SMACK! "and put the gloves back on.'" are the gloves even part of the uniform—? SMACK SMACK SMACK! "ow ow owww," kaeya whines, frowning childishly at the student council patroller as he continues to give him a smackdown. "fine, fine, you're jealous, i get it— SMACK! — public indecency! okay, okay! stop hitting me!"

[4doras]

DOCTOR! DOCTOR! ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

how could a star player who never makes a mistake keep getting hurt? ⊹♡

basketballer!gunwook x studentnurse!reader

genre. fluff, mentions of getting hurt

wc. 1.4k

a/n. doctor doctor is stuck in my head and i’ve been wanting to make a gunwook fic, so it’s perfect timing ^_^

everyone knew park gunwook — gunwook, the star player of the school’s basketball team, gunwook, the guy who never missed a shot, gunwook, who wouldn’t miss a game for the world. he loved basketball, and everyone loved him, everyone except you.

you didn’t hate him per se, but you wouldn’t seem to find the hype around him. of course, you could agree if people spoke about his looks, but his personality? he wasn’t anything special.

more under the cut!

gunwook was flawless on the court with his precision and skill. no one could ever remember a time when he made a mistake, but lately, something odd had started. ever since you became the nurse at the clinic, gunwook had been getting injured more than usual. it was as if every time he played, he’d somehow end up with a bruise or a twisted ankle, always finding his way to you to get treated.

you couldn’t understand why he; who was so perfect, kept making these mistakes on the court. due to your slight dislike of him, you tried to keep your distance, but with each injury, you ended up seeing him more. and though you didn’t want to admit it, a small part of you wondered if it was more than just bad luck.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

“y/n?” a voice echoed through your silent office, “could you bring your kit and come to the court? gunwook got hit in the head.” you recognised the boy as one of gunwook’s friends, another basketball player. “alright, i’ll be right there.” you kept your composure light and smiley, but you couldn’t think of a way how gunwook, someone who was also known to have good agility, could’ve been hit in the head hard enough to need someone to care for him.

you weren’t in any rush to go over, not like the other players were, but when you noticed him rubbing his head, you figured that you might as well check, turning your slow walk into a paced jog.

as you made your way over, you noticed his friends were acting a bit… strange. they weren’t laughing or making jokes, but there was a weird energy between them — glances exchanged, suppressed smiles, like they were all in on something. gunwook wasn’t in much pain, just a bit shaken, but his friends were acting like everything was perfectly normal, almost too normal, considering the situation. you couldn’t put your finger on it, but the way they behaved around gunwook left you feeling a little suspicious. they weren't concerned, not in the way you'd expect after an impact like that, making you wonder if they were up to something.

you crouched by him, holding him up so he’d sit up properly, had he been laying down flat before. “does it hurt here?” you gently put pressure on his forehead, unsure of where he got hit. “a little,” his voice carried a hint of discomfort, “it’s kinda like… here.” he took your hand off of his forehead, bringing it to the side of his head. “tell me when it hurts.” you gradually applied more and more pressure on the area, promptly hearing a wince. “i think you’ll be okay, just be careful. follow me, i’ll get you some ice.” you got back up, extending your hand toward him, offering him help to get back on his feet.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

he sat in front of you, waiting for whatever help you could give. once you looked at gunwook closer, you noticed a few scratches on his hands and a small cut on his forehead. it wasn’t serious, but you still reached for some ointment and a plaster to tend to the wounds. carefully applying it to his forehead, you found herself realizing gunwook looked a lot cuter up close than you ever really paid attention to before. his features were soft, and even with the small scrapes, there was something about him that made him seem a bit more attractive than she’d expected. you quickly pushed the thought aside, focusing on helping him rather than letting her mind wander.

you couldn’t be thinking like this — about gunwook, or anything else that made your heart flutter a little, but it was hard. it didn’t make sense. you knew he wouldn’t like you back, and that was fine. you didn't think less of yourself, but the truth was clear: there were so many other girls that were prettier and ‘more his type’ who thought of him the same way too. you had no reason to dwell on these feelings, especially when it wouldn’t lead anywhere. you couldn’t let herself get caught up in something pointless.

“focus, y/n. don’t daydream, your patient is hurt!” he whined, playing a small pout on his lips. “i’m not… i’m just a bit tired.” you hoped your lie was strategic enough, but acting wasn’t your major. he could see straight through you. “hm,” he cooed, “tired of what?” gunwook tilted his head to the side in mild confusion, the corner of his lips curled up into a playful smile as he looked at you. it was almost as if he knew that you weren’t telling the truth and was waiting for you to explain. “tired of you always coming here. i thought you were the best player, how come you keep ending up hurt?”

gunwook couldn’t help but giggle, seeing how clueless you were. you had no idea how obvious his feelings were. it was like a secret game to him, watching you so unaware of how much he liked you, despite him constantly creating a reason to find you.

gunwook knew exactly what he was doing when he’d fake an injury during basketball practice. it wasn’t that he actually got hurt, but he’d always manage to ‘slip’ or ‘twist’ something just enough to need attention. but the real reason? he loved having your attention on him. he’d sit there, trying to hide his grin, pretending to be in pain just to have you close. it wasn’t that he wanted to get hurt, but the way you cared for him made his heart race, and the excuse to see you — even for just a moment — was worth it every time.

“you’re seriously blind, huh?” he folded his arms, an irritating smirk on his lips. “i like you, silly. i’ve only been getting hurt because i wanna see you, and it wasn’t even that big of an issue… to me, at least.” gunwook couldn’t help but smile, his eyes lit up with a quiet confidence, as if the words he just said were exactly what he’d been waiting to say for a long time.

“what?” you couldn’t find the right words. you wanted to say something, anything, but the words just wouldn’t come out. every time you opened your mouth, it felt like they got stuck somewhere in your throat, tangled. the more he came to your office, it became more obvious to you that you liked him. you knew that much — maybe more than you even realized; but trying to put it into words felt impossible. it wasn’t that you were unsure of your feelings, it was just that every time you looked at him, all you could think about was how much you wanted him to know, but not knowing how to say it.

“i’m not joking, y/n. why do you think i’d keep coming here for something so small, like a cut? i could take care of that at home. i come here because i like you, because i want to see you.” gunwook looked at you, his eyes held an honesty that was impossible to miss, as if everything he was feeling was laid bare in that quiet, unwavering gaze.

“please, give me a chance, y/n.” you couldn’t say no to him, his eyes were basically kneeling in front of you, pleading for you to say yes. “you’re so desperate, it really doesn’t fit your look.” you giggled. you couldn’t believe the park gunwook was on his knees for you. “is that a no?” he said, in a much, much sadder voice. “i didn’t say it was.” you couldn’t help but laugh at his face. “i like you too, gunwook. but you better stop getting hurt for me.” you crossed your arms, pretending to look annoyed, but the playful smirk tugging at your lips betrayed you.

“i promise i’ll stop,” he put his pinky out, “and i’ll win every game for you.” his smile grew bigger. you locked your pinky with his, and pressed your thumbs together. “you better.”

[nina-renmen]

How Male demon Kny Characters are in bed pt.1

I seen something like this on here and I thought I’d hop on the bandwagon. Minors DNI!! (This isn’t revised or edited)

This can either go one of two ways. He either A) is super gentle and sweet. He’d most likely prep you before and initiate aftercare. But this would only happen if you two were together for a long time (like three years for example) and the relationship is serious. He might be rough with you if you asked him to or he had a bad day. But let’s just say this man lives for plush thighs. Especially if you sit and your thighs go into ‘pillow mode.’ It drives him crazy. Or B) He’s super rough with you. Not that you mind, but he could be a bit more gentler with you. He dosn’t prep you as much as he would if you guys were together for a long time. He wouldn’t be much for Praise instead he’d be a bit more degrading. Aftercare would happen but it wouldn’t be as sweet. He might lay with you or take a nap or a bath with you but that’s about it.

This man is instantly respectful towards you. Especially if you’re a woman. If you’re a girl he’d see you as a delicate flower that needs to be taken care of and protected. But if you wrap your legs around his waist while he’s thrusting into you it’s like a switch that’s turned off. He’s instantly burying his face in the crook of your neck, he may or may not bite you. His thrusts will go deeper and harder, his grip on your wrists will tighten and he’ll pull you closer into him. He might even put you in a mating press. Either way, whether he’s feral or he’s gentle he’ll always praise how tight you are, or how pretty you sound.

He lives between your thighs….No one can change my mind. If this man could, he’d eat you out all day, every day. But sadly he can’t since he has his duties to attend. But don’t think that he won’t take a quick snack early in the morning or just before you go to bed. This man has no shame. He urges you to scream his name, to let all of his followers know who’s making you feel this good. He loves it when you pull his hair. The harder you pull his hair the more he’ll eat you out. He likes to see you on top of him from time to time. He loves looking up at you, especially if you’re struggling to take him fully. He wants you to ask for help, so he won’t move to help you out until you push your pride aside and ask him to take over.

I feel like he’s a bit more traditional since he was raised in a different era. Hell court you first before me makes any sexual gestures or tries to take you. When that does happen, you’ll find out that he has a lot , A LOT of energy. He’ll fuck you from dawn all the way to dusk if you let him. If he’s feeling a particular way he’ll put you in a mating press so you can’t squirm as much. He likes seeing you struggle at times when you’re overstimulated. He’ll tease you until you’re crying and begging him to just get on with it. He’s in the middle about making you scream for him. One part of him wants you to scream his name, and moan so everyone knows who’s making you feel goo. But the other part of him dosn’t want that. He feels that only he should be able to hear your moans. None of the others are worthy of hearing such a tune.

Bottom…..That’s all I have to say. The first time is his actual first time. He’s never even touched a woman sexually before. Sure he’s thought about it, but he’s clueless. You’d have to take the lead. He’s be a little bit stiff at first, he wants it he really does. But he dosn’t know where to put his hands. You’re gonna have to teach him how to make you feel good. But don’t worry he’s a quick learner. After a night or two your positions will switch and your thighs will be squeezing around his head. Gyutaro is another one who will eat you out all day, every day. The only thing that’s different from Doūma is that he actually has the time to do it. So if you agree to it, he’ll shove his face in between your thighs until the sun goes down. If you try and move away from him because of overstimulation he’ll only pull you back and hold your lower half slightly above the ground so you can wiggle free.

[bunnypeew]

Hey sweetie, just read that you're taking requests, so I thought I might toss one your way.

How about an Female reader x Alastor x Lucifer, both demons sorta fighting for her, but she doesn't decide for either of them. Alastor was a friend of hers when she was alive, and Luci is a real charm xD so they agree to share 😏 if ya know what I mean hehe please NSFW if you can. Lots of shadow play since Alastor doesn't like sex too much.

Thank you 🥰

HELL YEAH I CAN IM A SUCKER FOR LUCI X READER X ALASTOR LETS GOOO

Sharing is caring - Lucifer x fem!reader x Alastor NSFW

warnings: NSFW, MDNI pls thank you, cunnilingus, shadow play, voyeurism, cumming inside

''you are just being a prick!,,

Lucifer shouted at Alastor while they were both waiting for Y/n to come out for them all to hang out. It had been a while since both of them kinda courted her and were always around her in some way, whether it was physically or just Alastor's shadows following her around making sure she was safe. She loved it, without any lies, one of the most powerful overlords in his time and the literal king of hell, like come on!

''And you are being an annoyance,,

Alastor scoffs at his nails, not interested in what Short Stack is saying. It wasn't until she came out of the door, that sleepiness on her face, her hair all messed up and her shirt hanging barely on her shoulders. She was a sight to be seen for both of them

''sorry guys I completely forgot about our outing today so I slept in,,

she says yawning and stretching he arms upwards, letting the fabric get lifted up by her boobs, exposing her panties and belly. At this, both men were petrified, both for different reasons. Alastor composed himself gripping his cane and giving her a warm smile

''why hello there darling! you seem to be a bit exposed there, care for me to help you out?,,

he says walking towards Y/n and putting a hand on the nook of her back, now looking at Lucifer with a challenging smile, this makes his blood boil making him get near her as well trying to pull her away from Alastor only for him to grab her waist stopping Lucifer from moving her at all. Y/n notices this and sighs

''you guys need to come to some sort of understanding because I'm not making that choice for you,,

she speaks, making them both turn their attention to her instead of their bickering. This makes them think for a little while, they did think of something but both of them didn't really like that outcome, but at this point, they really had no choice but to agree with one another. They look at each other, giving a nod then turn their attention fully to Y/n

''how about, we go back to your room darling, the three of us,,

Lucifer says putting a hand on her waist and getting closer to her face all at once, this time not to make Alastor jealous but to just grab her attention while Al works behind her. From the nod they had before they both agreed that they wanted her, maybe in different ways but they both wanted to make her feel good. Alastor shadow was put underneath her, moving away her panties, this made her gasp making her close her legs in an instant and turn around to look at the culprit. All Alastor had to show was a wide smirk and the bulge from his pants prominent, all three of them knew that he wasn't one for sex but to please his sweetheart he would do all he could without being touched, even if just standing and watching Lucifer take the lead, so that's what happened. They went to the bed in her bedroom, Luci smacking her onto it and getting on top of her, while Al sat down in a chair near them stroking his pants.

This took Y/n by surprise because they never did something for all three of them, it was mostly Lucifer with whom she had sex, Alastor usually didn't opt for this kinda of stuff but today was a first. Lucifer got in between her legs, the panties already moved off her cunt so this gave ease of access to his tongue to slip in, this made her gasp and grab the sheets on the bed. In the meantime, Alastor had pulled his cock out and started jerking it slowly with one hand while the other hand was controlling the shadows to which he made go to Y/n body to play with her, mostly her boobs. Whimpers could be heard from her, suffocated a little since she was getting shy by Alastor looking at her with a lustful look in his eyes, his permanent smile still there, just softer. One of his tentacles with into her mouth making her gasp and moan out loud

''I think both of us want to hear you dearest,,

Alastor speaks and chuckles when he can finally hear his sweetheart in all her glory, in the meantime, lucifer on sucking and licking on her cunt making her whimper and moan even more. He knew exactly what he was doing, eating her out was one of his specialities, after all, he loved to make her feel good. Soon after he stopped, letting his cock come out of his pants to then slam into her right away with one thrust, the tentacle out of her mouth and now around her neck giving her the possibility to speak

''Luci.. holy shit,,

she is able to mutter in between moans, with Lucifer picking up his pace, and Alastor does as well. They both went on until they reached their climax, Alastor finishing in his hand while Lucifer finished inside of Y/n, her legs quivering the same as her cum filled cunt.

They could say they were gonna share you like this more often from now on.

a/n: GOD I LOVE THEM SO MUCH IM SO GLAD I GOT TO WRITE THIS!!!! I hope it satisfied your request and thank you so much for the ask :3c @christineblood

[shooter-nobunagun]

Spontaneous Combustion (R18)

//I really gotta stop starting drabbles and then not finishing them...or just finish the ever-increasing drafts that are lying around...

FYI, this fic is actually a bit of a 'what if Sio and Adam end up having spontaneous PWP before they even get together as a couple'; it's non-canon but kind of a fun idea to play around with, to imagine they might get caught up in a 'heat of the moment' kind of situation before they really start developing feelings for each other.

"I-I don't know Jack-san...a, are you sure this is a good idea...?"

"Relax, hanninmae; I know what I'm doin'..."

"B, But..."

"Hush, love; we've already come this far, surely you're not thinking of backing out now, are you?"

Biting her lips, the girl glanced around the room nervously, before back down at the man whose naked lap she was currently perched above. They were going to get caught, she just knew it—yet somehow she'd let herself get roped into this devious (but also hot) situation by none other than the Ripper himself.

Damn. She did like her toys to be on the dangerous side after all.

Well, it did help that he could be very...persuasive, when it mattered. Even though most of the time he was a sarcastic asshole who wasted no opportunity to complain about her inexperience and tease her every other second.

How did she let herself get into this situation again...? It was just supposed to be a routine training session for the Second Platoon, and she and Jack had been assigned as sparring partners for the latter half. Sio never thought she'd return to that cursed island again after her initial 'torture', but it turned out even full-time DOGOO members rotated there during downtime intervals, in order to keep their combat skills sharp.

And then somehow or other—she wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline and hormones or if they really did get closer this whole time—things got heated in more ways than one. And now she was literally about to get it on with the man whom, only a few months ago, seemed hell-bent on making her regret her decision to join DOGOO.

Her train of thought was interrupted as she felt a large, warm hand slide up her thigh and she stiffened. The hand stopped, and the man glanced at her with a curious expression.

"What's wrong? Are you uncomfortable?" His eyes narrowed slightly. "Or is it...you don't want to do this with me?"

"A-Ah, it's not that...I just..." Gulping, she wasn't sure how seriously he'd take her word. To be honest, she was surprised he'd been as gentle and accommodating as he'd been, so far. It was a far cry from his usual behaviors towards her, and the sniper wasn't sure if he was just being nice so he could get some, or if he actually was a decent guy, underneath all his 'lone wolf' crap.

Jack was silent, his one hand still slowly stroking the soft skin of her inner thigh, but otherwise made no move. He was waiting for her response.

Sio took a deep breath. "N, No, I...do want to do this with you," she said in a small voice, and she swore his lips curved up into the slightest of grins. "I-It's just, um...this isn't exactly a private place, so um...I-I..."

"Ah...afraid of being caught, are we?" Sio nodded shyly. "Well, I say the risk is what makes the reward all the more worth it—but I wouldn't worry; Gandhi and Newton have already cleared out, and trust me when I say nobody else comes in until all the VIPs have finished."

"B-But what about Capa?" Just thinking about the perverted old man made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "He could technically come back in, right?" What if he was secretly hanging around the hanger still, spying on them with that Nikon camera of his—oh god, what if he found her and Jack in this incredibly compromising position? Scandalous photos would be the least of her worries—she didn't even know if fraternization between teammates was allowed or not. DOGOO may not have been a traditional military organization, but they did follow many of its protocols, so a court-martial would not be out of the question...

Warm fingers brushed through her hair and she looked down in surprise. Jack's face was surprisingly not irritated for once, instead he looked mildly amused. "That old man? Hah, knowing him he's probably taking that afternoon nap of his." A single finger hushed her protest before it could come out. "Trust me, squirt. I've been here longer than you have, done this whole spiel—I know his routine. 'Sides, I'm not that careless—why else do you think we're in this musty old storage closet?"

He did have a point. There was no way she would have agreed to this if Jack had insisted on doing it right out in the open gym—but the broom closet they were currently locked in looked like it hadn't been touched in a while, given the amount of dust over everything. Again Jack had surprised her with his 'gentlemanly' side, and let her be on top so she wouldn't have to lie on the dirty floor.

"W, Well...you'd better be right, Jack-san..." Hesitantly she sat down, but then bounced up again with a squeal as her bare bottom brushed against that hot, wet thing—oh god it was even stiffer than before and was it just her or did it feel bigger—Jack caught her slender frame as she wobbled, her face incredibly hot as she realized what they were about to do.

"What's wrong? You're not scared, are you?" He leaned in close and whispered against the shell of her ear. "You certainly showed no fear earlier, when we were sparring...nearly took out my right eyeball."

He gave her a toothy grin, and Sio blushed with embarrassment. Seriously, it wasn't her fault Capa had insisted on stick-fighting today, otherwise she wouldn't have nearly gouged him out with her bo staff. Even though her AU weapon wasn't a melee weapon, she took it seriously—there was no way she was going to be called a slacker as the newest member of the Second Platoon. Jack too, seemed to take their match seriously; after the initial teasing and trash talk, both of them went at it as if possessed by something greater than themselves. There was no snide commentary or mocking, just each of them reading the others' movements and responding accordingly, as if it were a real fight. She remembered the raw ferocity of his strength, but also how she responded with her own unexpected dexterity—the intensity of those green eyes staring at her as she managed to hold his staff to a draw, both of them sweating and panting as she held his gaze. It was like they were under a spell, each not daring to look away before the other; it wasn't until Capa shouted at them through his megaphone to 'stop standing around and start cleaning up' did they snap out of it. As they helped Gandhi and Newton roll up the mats and put everything away though, she noticed the Ripper kept stealing glances her way. Normally she would have been irritated, or a little creeped out, but there was something about his eyes and that expression that captivated her; caused her to unconsciously draw closer, instead of getting away.

Maybe that was why when there was just the two of them left, putting the last staves away and she accidentally turned into his broad chest, she didn't immediately jump back. Instead she stayed there, buried against those hard muscles and breathing in his scent—clean sweat, with a muskier, stronger odor that made her body even hotter than it already was. He didn't say a word either, not when he slowly cupped her chin and lifted her eyes, gazing at her with that indecipherable expression and not after he brushed against her lips and kissed her.

It was a nice kiss, actually. Not at all like the slobbery tongue-tangles that Newton loved to give; no, his lips were warm and soft, and at least in the beginning there was no tongue—but as hands started undoing buttons and zippers and moved onto bare, heated skin, their mouths seemed to follow suit and the next thing Sio knew she was tasting the inside of his mouth. It felt addictive, intoxicating even; a small part of her brain screamed at her to get a grip, and what the hell was she doing, didn't she hate the Ripper—but it was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure coursing through her body. The sniper didn't even flinch when he pushed her sports bra up, her petite breasts already perked from both his touch and the cold air. It wasn't until his warm, calloused hands started massaging them, a moan escaped her lips and she finally seemed to snap out of it, pulling back with burning cheeks as she hastily tried to pull her jacket back on.

"J-Jack-san, I-I—I'm sorry—"

"—For what? I'm certainly not sorry."

He was gazing at her with a new look, his green eyes darkened until they looked more like emeralds. For once he wasn't teasing or condescending, which surprised her. Did he really think of her as more than just some half-baked squirt...? Something buried deep within her, some part she didn't think would ever come out, started worming its way to the surface. She swallowed nervously as this flush of energy sped through her veins, causing her face to blush and her loins to tighten.

"You...and me..."

"If you've no objections to any of this, let's finish what we started. Well?"

She didn't know how to answer that, so she leaned forward instead, and gingerly reached out a single finger to touch those rock-hard abs. The sniper gasped as he chuckled and pulled her flush against his body, feeling his hot, bared skin against her own. "I'll take that as a yes, then."

And that was how they ended up where they were now: crammed into a dim, tiny closet, the sniper half-naked with her pants down around her ankles as she hovered nervously above Jack, his own impressive erection just inches from her dripping entrance. Sweat beaded across both their bodies, and with each inhale she breathed in more of his heady scent, now mixed with the musk of her own sex.

"I-I'm not scared! Just, I've never done this before...like, ever...s, so..." Sio blushed, embarrassed at admitting she was a virgin, but it didn't seem to bother Jack at all. "I don't know what to do..."

There was a low chuckle, and next thing she knew his long fingers brushed through her dark curls. "Oh, that won't be a problem; we just have to get you 'warmed up', first..."

"H-Huh?" Before Sio could understand the meaning his digits prodded her entrance, then one of them slowly slid in. She gasped as it wriggled around, gently exploring her insides as Jack continued to rub soothing circles around her thigh. "O-Oh...it feels weird..."

"Just weird? Or does it hurt?"

She shook her head. "N-No, it's not painful...I guess it just feels strange to have something, um...inside..." Sio blushed as those words left her mouth. The most she'd ever done was maybe wake up with a pillow between her legs, but she'd never consciously stuck anything up in there—not even a tampon.

"Tha's good, as long as it's not painful you'll be fine," Jack replied in a husky murmur, his dark green eyes heavily lidded as he concentrated intently between her legs. "Let's try this..."

Her eyes widened as his fingers pushed through her curls and found her pink, tender pearl. Already it was swollen and peeking out from its usual hiding place, and the second Jack started stroking her clit Sio felt her entire body jerk uncontrollably from the sensations. "Ah! J-Jack-san wha, what are you...!"

"Well well...yeh like that, don'tcha?" Back and forth his fingers rubbed across that sensitive nub, and Sio felt her head spin from the pleasure. She couldn't respond, it was all she could do at this point to even breathe—a cry escaped her lips as she nearly collapsed against his broad chest, her body seemingly twitching on its own as she grasped his shoulders and gasped for air.

"Oh, oh...! M-My, body...I can't control it..." Never in a million years did the sniper imagine she could experience pleasure like this. A smoldering fire was building inside her core, unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Jack's fingers were gentle yet relentless in their ministrations, while his other hand steadily cupped her head and stroked her hair in a soothing manner. Sio couldn't even think about anything except the ecstasy that was building deep within her, threatening to overwhelm all her senses. Vaguely she felt something hot drip down her thighs, but the sniper was too distracted by everything else to really notice. "Mnn...it feels so good...!" Without even realizing it her body started to rock back and forth, until it was synched with the movement of his fingers.

"Yeh? Feels good, doesn't it?" His voice was soothing, hypnotic almost as he increased the pace slightly, and Sio gripped his shoulders tighter.

"Y, Yes...it feels—ah—really good..." Sio was in a daze as she briefly locked eyes with Jack, staring into those deep, emerald-green orbs. For some reason he was grinning, but in her state the sniper couldn't figure out what was so amusing. The only thing that mattered right now were the streaks of lightning heat coursing through her, building and building until she could barely keep her eyes open...

Just as she felt fit to burst his fingers suddenly withdrew, and Sio let out a whine of disappointment. "Wha—y-you stopped..."

He responded with a slight laugh. "Oh? Impatient now are we... Don't fret, we'll get there soon enough." As the heat settled slightly Sio finally noticed the warm fluids that had been dripping down between her legs this whole time.

"Whaaahh—I'm sorry Jack-san, I got your clothes all dirty—" Her cheeks burned as she realized not only was it all over his trousers, but apparently a good amount had dripped onto his erection, as well.

"What are you talking about? That's exactly what I want," Jack grunted as he gripped her petite bum, and lifted her into position. "Now, I think you're ready..."

"Y-You mean, um...uh..." Now that the haze had cleared slightly, Sio became very aware of the entire situation. It seemed Jack deemed her ready to...accept him...her gaze drifted down to his red, throbbing cock, and for the first time she noticed there was some clear fluid leaking from the tip, as well.

He raised an eyebrow. "I'll ask you one last time: you want this or not?" A strong hand cupped her chin and tilted her head so their gazes were even. "Sio Ogura?"

She wasn't sure what surprised her more—that he was asking for permission or that he actually called her by her real name, for once. Stunned by his question, she nodded once, then braced one hand around his neck as she tried to figure out how they were going to do this.

"I-It's, um...it's bigger than I thought," a small voice drifted up, the sniper too embarrassed to look at him directly. "A-Are you sure it'll...fit?"

Jack resisted the urge to simply take the lead and impale himself into her. The sniper was already nervous enough as is, even though she'd made it clear she wanted to continue. Best to make her feel as relaxed as possible, especially if she was virgin. Even though he'd loosened her up with his fingering earlier, and she was now well-lubricated, he had a feeling it would still hurt to some extent.

"Relax, love. There's no rush, we can take it slowly, yeh?" She nodded hesitantly, until Jack took her spare hand and encouraged her to wrap it around his cock. "Here, don't be scared—you can touch it, you know."

Her eyes widened as slender fingers wrapped themselves around the stiff, heated organ. It really is hard...! As she touched it experimentally, tracing around the veins and bumps, she realized she could feel it pulsing slightly in time with his pulse. 'Whoa...it feels like it's alive, almost...' Gingerly she stroked it a few times, trying to get a sense of its size and girth, while unintentionally spreading the precum all over as she grazed the tip. As she rubbed it more persistently, fascinated by the clear, slippery fluid, Jack grunted and his hips jerked upward towards her grip.

"Hey now, you're quite the tease, aren't yeh?"

"Oh! Sorry, did that hurt?"

A row of shark-like teeth showed itself. "Quite the opposite, actually." His own larger hand took her much-smaller one into its grasp, as he guided the girl until she gripped him fully. "Here, I'll help you." Gently but firmly, he started pushing her bum down, Sio struggling to stay upright while trying not to twitch all over the place.

"Hiiyaa—i-it's so hot—" She let out another squeak as the tip now firmly brushed against her own hot, slick folds; though Jack was being unusually patient with her, a part of her couldn't help but fear that he was annoyed with her for being so hesitant. Gritting her teeth, she took a deep breath and attempted to just sit down onto it—though it didn't quite work as planned.

"What th—oy oy, that's not—" He raised a brow in confusion as the girl sat down all of a sudden, but instead of letting him enter her, she just ended up sitting on his cock. Not that it was unpleasant—the heat from her wet folds against his member sent low tremors throughout his body as she squirmed around. "Hey, I told you we can take this slow. Yer really in that much of a hurry?"

The sniper turned a pretty shade of pink. "S-Sorry! Sorry I'm so inexperienced...I don't, I didn't mean to—"

"—Stop apologising!" Then, as if catching himself, he cleared his throat and lowered his voice. "...It's fine to take your time, squirt. I mean it," he gave her a pointed glance. "The last thing I want is you hurting yourself 'cause you think I'm not man enough to wait." Perhaps she needed a bit more encouragement? While the girl was blushing and babbling and attempting to regain her composure, he ran a thumb over her pink clit again. She immediately moaned, her hips jerking as she slid herself back and forth across his cock.

"Ooohh..." Eyes closing, Sio let herself indulge his fingers a bit more. She was positively dripping now, and the squelching sound she was making as she rubbed against his erection was pretty embarrassing—but she couldn't care less at this moment. That low, throbbing pressure was building up again—but this time it was the sniper who stopped herself, just before she reached the peak again. Taking a shaky breath, she braced herself against Jack's broad shoulders and pulled herself up.

"Ready now?" His eyes were dark and hazy, and Sio noticed he seemed more subdued than earlier. Even though he'd been the one pleasuring her, his chest was heaving slightly too, and Sio let her eyes hungrily drink in the sight of his impressive body—hard, chiseled lines of pure muscle now dappled with sweat. She swallowed hard as she felt her insides pulse again.

"Y-Yeah...I think so..." Once again she grasped his swollen member, which was now slick and wet with both of their fluids. Slowly, ever so slowly, with Jack's help she positioned herself until she felt the tip sink right into her entrance. "I-It's going in...!"

"Yeh, tha's right love...you're doing great, just keep going...there's a good girl..." Jack crooned into her ear, as inch by agonizing inch, the sniper slowly accepted him. "Fuck, you're tight," he groaned slightly under his breath as her walls started pushing back against his member, as if trying to eject this foreign invader. Still, the girl above him continued to sink lower, her own eyes closed and brows furrowed as she pushed down.

"Nng—it's so big..." At first it hadn't been so bad, but as Jack continued to enter her, Sio felt herself being stretched more than she ever thought possible. It was now uncomfortably tight, and for a second she wanted to push him back out—but at the same time, there was a pleasurable satisfaction of being filled so fully. "J-Jack-san, is it almost in?"

"Yeh, you're close...keep going," he grunted, before taking her thighs and spread them wider. "Here, open your legs more—that'll help." As her legs splayed across his waist though, her knee slipped against the slippery fabric of her shorts, and in one fluid movement the sniper dropped down squarely into his lap, taking Jack fully up to the hilt at the same time. Both holders moaned at the sudden sensations—Jack's breath hissed through his teeth at the feeling of being fully sheathed in her moist walls while Sio panted hotly against his neck.

"Oooh...oh, oh...I can't believe it's in...I feel so full..." Gasping, the sniper tried moving around a bit, as her insides slowly adjusted to his girth. "Nnng—Jack-san, you're so hot..."

"I could say the same," came his strained reply, and Sio saw his cheeks were stained a faint red. "You feel alright?"

Sio nodded timidly. "I-I think so...I just feel, really full...but it doesn't really hurt..." She rolled her hips again, and Jack grunted underneath her. "S-So um, wh-what should I do now...?"

"Relax; I'll take it from here," he murmured, his large hands rubbing her thighs to get her to loosen up. "Just let me know if it hurts."

Sio only had a few seconds to ponder what he could possibly mean before she felt a tremendous thrust lift her up. "Gyaah—J-Jack-san...!" He didn't respond, and soon enough Sio felt her mind glaze over with pure ecstasy as Jack settled into a steady rhythm. "Oh, oh, oh...it feels good..." Each thrust pushed her tight walls apart and rubbed against her clit, leaving her feeling empty-full-empty-full in quick succession. The pressure from earlier returned with a vengeance, as Sio felt her lower belly simmer with white-hot pleasure. Her hands scrambled to hold onto anything as she felt her self-control slipping with each thrust. Moans spilled from her mouth, moreso as Jack started increasing the pace.

"Oh—oh, ah, J-Jack-saa..." She couldn't even say his name properly at this point, her hips now also clumsily thrusting to meet his rhythm. Her body only wanted one thing, and it was to reach the peak as soon as possible. The room filled with their grunts and moans, along with the wet, sucking sound of flesh slapping each other. Animal sounds, that what they were making she thought, but she had to admit hearing Jack's groans next to her ear was incredibly arousing. As the pace became more frantic, strong arms pulled her close; until she was nearly crushed against his strong chest. Their nipples rubbed against each other, and Sio moaned rather loudly at the sensations.

"Hush, squirt; you don't—hah—want someone to hear, do you?"

"H-Huh? B-But you said there wouldn't be anybody around—!"

Jack grinned deviously at the sniper's naivete. "Yeh, but you never know...what if Capa decides to wake up early...or, Gandhi and Newton come looking for us..." Though he was just teasing the sniper, he swore her walls grew more taut as he whispered those scenarios into her ear. "My, my...you seem to have gotten tighter all of a sudden..." He cupped her red cheeks, the sniper's eyes completely glazed with lust at this point as she stared at him in a daze. "Could it be, in addition to being a voyeur, you're actually an exhibitionist as well?"

"Wh-what?! I-I'm not—that's not true!" Her cheeks turned bright red from indignation. "Stop making stuff up!"

"Really? If that's the case, then why are you getting so wet all of a sudden?" To Sio's horror, she felt a gush of love juices sluice out at his comment. "I mean, there's a chance I could be wrong about Capa's schedule...what if he were to open that door right now, and see the two of us like this..."

"N, No...it's not, that's not true..." Still, as Jack continued feeding her imagination with all sorts of potential situations, Sio couldn't deny she felt hotter than ever. Her entire body tingled with pinpricks of pleasure, as she couldn't help but imagine what would happen if that door were to open right at this second.

"You really are a pervert, aren't ya? But that's fine; I like that..." If she weren't so horny, Sio would've been shocked at his compliment—but she didn't even have time to respond as Jack's lips crashed into hers, partly to muffle her increasingly-loud moans.

"Ah—Jack-san, s-something's c, coming...!" Just like the previous times, Sio felt like she was about to reach the zenith of something...her legs were shaking from exertion and she barely noticed the red lines that streaked across Jack's shoulders. Her insides trembled again as she felt the bulbous tip of his cock nearly push against her cervix.

Underneath her, the silver-haired man breathed hotly against her cheek as he grunted and adjusted their position slightly. "Yeh, same...I'm gonna, come soon..."

"Ah, ah...J-Jack, I'm—!" Her voice quivered as she felt her inner walls start faintly pulsing.

"—It's 'Adam'. My name, is Adam...Sio." Despite everything, the sniper's eyes shot open in surprise as she heard her name. Jack—no, Adam's face was an enigma, but she could tell he wasn't teasing or playing around with her, for once.

"Ah—A, Adam..."

He nodded, and lightly palmed her breasts to reassure her. "That's right, Sio..."

Why now, what was his reason for using her real name—and telling her to do the same? Sio felt there must be something more, and it probably would have been way more significant, if she weren't so desperate for release right this second. Her eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head as she felt the tremors again, but stronger this time—and her will to hold them back was rapidly weakening.

"I-I can't hold back—I feel like I'm going to, to..."

"You wanna cum?"

Her insides shivered again. "H-Hai..."

"Then say my name again."

She blinked rapidly in surprise. "Huh? But why—"

He cut her off with another deep thrust. "Just do it. Say my name, hanninmae." He commanded, his gaze piercing into her heavily-lidded maroons.

When this was all over (and much later) she would reflect on this particular moment and understand it was the beginning of something more, something that the human Adam Muirhead was too afraid to say when he was the e-gene holder Jack the Ripper. But at this very moment, Sio was prepared to do anything so long as she got her release, and so she obeyed without question.

"A...Adam, Muirhead..."

That shy stutter, those round, maroon orbs that were hazy with pure desire as she gazed up at him... His breath quickened while his heart thrummed so loudly in his chest he was sure the sniper would hear it; a cascade of heat flooded his entire body at once, and as he felt the muscles of his core start coiling and tightening for release, Adam knew for certain.

This girl...she would become something much, much more...

"...That's right. Good girl...Ogura Shio."

He thrust upward one more time, just as the sniper rolled her hips downward. The result was a messy, spastic tangle of bodies and limbs as both holders came at the same time. Sio's mind went blank for a few seconds as she felt nothing but pure ecstasy; she gripped Adam's shoulders so tightly she was sure there'd be bruises tomorrow, as her petite body shook and her hips seemed to move on their own, continuing to thrust and draw out as much pleasure as she could. It felt so, so good; as if all her pent-up frustrations, secret desires, and stress were released all in one go—and then she fell face-first into his chest once more, her body limp and jelly-like as she gasped for air.

"Ah, Ja—I-I mean, Adam...san..." She tried lifting herself up with her weak arms but to her surprise, a hand pushed her back down against his chest.

"Shh, love; it's alright. Stay. Just rest now."

I can hear his heart beating... It was strong and steady, his breath was warm against her hair and his hand was gently massaging circles in the small of her back. A faint voice in the back of her head told her she should leave, and get back to her quarters as soon as possible, but he'd said it was okay to stay...so where was the harm in that... Sio closed her eyes and let herself completely relax.

While the sniper used his chest as a pillow, Adam's gaze drifted down to where they were still connected. He frowned as he noticed a few streaks of pinkish-red among the white; damn, so she had bled after all. Even though he'd tried to be as careful as possible, and the girl hadn't said anything, still he managed to draw blood. His chest rumbled lowly as Adam mentally berated himself. But maybe it would have been inevitable, regardless. What with the way the two of them were going at it towards the end—at least it was very pleasurable for her. Or so he hoped, anyway.

Down there...is something that will become the most important thing to this world. And to you, as well...

Shit. Nightingale couldn't have been right...could she?

Adam gazed down once more at the slumbering sniper's visage.

"Heh. You really are somethin' else...Sio."

[1rsoldiersince2012]

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x reader)

Words: 3119 (chapter 17)

Summary:

You and Matt met in the courtroom. Now, you may think that Matt was a knight in shining armour and defended you in the name of all United States laws, but that was not the case. Matt was totally destroying your client, and you wanted to tear him into pieces right then and right there, because with Murdock as your rival, your head is on the firm's plate with each case. Did Matt care? No, he only cared about bringing justice, he was a human-machine, driven by the need to bring righteousness no matter the cost. Or was he just that? What happens when you get involved in Fisk's business and Daredevil's lies against your will?

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17. The Big Call

Calling the next morning stressful was a huge understatement. You arrived with Benowitz and Melissa in the same car. As if that wasn't enough, you were squeezed next to Benowitz the whole drive to the courtroom. Clutching your document briefcase, you felt dirty and drowning in your own sweat. In the building, those two left you alone, saying that they'll meet you in the courtroom. You strolled towards the coffee machine, trying to remember what arguments in Melissa's favor you wrote yesterday, but your mind was foggy on it - having fallen asleep on your stack of papers, you felt terrible, and the only thing that could help you was a cup of coffee.

Life liked making jokes on you, and the biggest one was Nelson and Murdock in the flesh standing near the coffee machine.

"If we win, I'm sure we're getting a nice sum, Matty." Foggy nudges Matt's shoulder and leans on the nearest wall.

Matt nods, visibly distracted and focused on another things - you. His nostrils filled with the smell of your perfume - so simple, yet so elegant and expensive, just like you. Your heartbeat speeds up, he has entered your vision field. Suddenly Matt forgot how to properly function, and-

"Mr Nelson, unexpected to see you here today." You smile politely at Foggy and briefly turn to look at Matt. "Mr Murdock." Now that you've come closer, he's able to smells cigarettes you smoked this morning. He wasn't an expert but he was guessing that you've smoked 3.

Matt nods. "Miss Y/l/n." There is a shift in his tone. You notice how he licks his lips after saying your name and you push the briefcase harder into your chest.

"Miss, what exactly are you doing in court today? I was pretty sure you had no cases scheduled." Foggy breaks the ice, after Matt fails to say something.

"I'm here with boss, actually. Benowitz decided that it would be best for me to participate today as his partner." You say and drop some coins into the machine. "You guys confident in winning today?" You ask the person standing closest to you - Foggy, not turning your head towards them, as to not raise any suspicions for Melissa or Benowitz. Matt hears you more than clear - you lack confidence, you're even scared. That was uncharacteristic for you, as you've always been confident and strong for as long as he remembered. Did Benowitz threaten you?

"Oh, someone's definitely afraid of losing. Well, sorry for anything we might do to your client." Foggy cracks a smile and downs the last bit of his coffee, leaning forward to drop the cup in the bin and getting closer to you. "Thanks for the photo, by the way, it takes the balls I don't have to do what you did." He says in a hushed tone quickly, not staying close to you more than necessary to throw the cup away.

"Yeah, yeah, of course." You mutter and take your coffee, ready to leave this place, but Foggy is quicker to make his exit.

"See you in a couple-" He says to both you and Matt, and chases a familiar blonde head heading for the entrance.

You want to leave without announcing yourself, and hoping to fool a blind man, but Matt quickly closes the distance between you, "what happened?" You already started shaking your head when he adds, "we still have time, meet me in the bathroom... Please." He leaves, and you mentally slap yourself for following him there.

When you close the doors of the bathroom, you see that Matt is already in his "interrogation" pose, leaning on the wall near the sinks. "It's empty."

"What do you want?" You sigh, keeping your distance between the two of you, but moving away from the entrance.

"What happened? You weren't supposed to participate."

"Benowitz took me with him, that's it." You put your cup on the sink and lean on it.

"Don't lie." Matt takes a step closer, you watch him through the mirror.

"I think my job prevents me from doing so, Murdock."

"Being a good lawyer doesn't mean that you can't be a good liar, although in your case, you're a terrible one."

You bite your cheek, slowly shaking your head, "well, what can I say, money controls the world. I hope me breaking the law was worth it."

"Stop talking in riddles, y/n, did he manipulate you into this?" He closes the distance between you, standing near the next sink, and whispers the last part, "did he hurt you?"

"No further elaboration on the matter, Murdock. And please, don't ask me anything in court, I'm so not fucking ready." You laugh humorlessly and finish your coffee, still not turning to look at Matt, who's been intently"reading" your pulse, and already knew that you were lying.

"Y/n, please."

"Good luck, Mr Murdock." You leave the bathroom and Matt feels totally helpless in the situation. Perhaps the Devil will have a mission today.

***  Upon entering the courtroom, you felt the blood drain from your face, and although Matt couldn't see, Foggy was his eyes, "I don't think I've ever seen her this pale before."

You sat next to Melissa, who was now squeezed in the middle between you and a very smug looking Benowitz. She didn't look nervous at all, although you're pretty sure she knows just how deep in trouble she was.

"All rise before the Judge" the voice booms loudly, and you stand up, an action that is performed automatically after spending years in courtrooms.

Everyone sits down, and uncomfortable silence fills the room. Matt feels everyone's anxiety, especially Foggy's, although he should be the one worrying about his career. What he didn't know, was that your career was also on the plate.

"Today we are gathered here for the case of Miss Dale, who pressed charges against her step-mother, Mrs Dale. May the plaintiff begin," he briefly points to Matt's table, "State the matter shortly, Mr Murdock."

Matt stands up, fixing his tie and his glasses, you watch him from the corner of your eye, hoping that Benowitz didn't see it. You already felt like you were under his magnifying glass the whole time.

"Your Honor, as you know, Miss Dale is suing her so called step-mother, Mrs Melissa Dale, because she believes that she hired a sniper to kill her father, the late Mr Dale." Matt unfolds his cane and walks in the front, taking cautious but calculated steps. "Mrs Dale denies any accusations and doesn't admit that she had any connections with her husband's death, but it was known to many people, especially the ones who knew the Dales well, that they weren't the dream couple. Miss Dale knew this too well, as she had to deal with their almost everyday fights and quarrels. Miss Dale felt hated, despised even, by her step-mother, so she wasn't blinded by the mask that Mrs Dale usually puts up when she's in the public spotlight. Now, your Honor, if I may, I want to ask Miss Dale to speak about her relationships with her father and step-mother," He stops near the jury, face turned to your table. Melissa shifts uncomfortably when Annie stands up and walks towards the little booth near the judge.

Court officer walks up to her with the Bible. "Please raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

"Yes. I do." Annie answers, briefly looking at Foggy.

"So help you God." The officer walks back into his previous spot.

Matt straightens and begins his questioning, "Miss Dale, could you tell me, was your father's previous marriage successful?"

"If by successful you mean, whether he and my mother loved one another, then yes, it was."

"And your mother died, when you were a teenager already, yes?"

"Yes, I was thirteen when the car accident happened."

"Did your father mourn for her?"

"Objection, relevance," Benowitz stands up, but Matt just smirks a little.

"Overruled. Continue Mr Murdock."

"I can rephrase that. Did your father mourn for a long time, or after he encountered Melissa, all the sadness was wiped away?" Matt asks, and you frown a little. What kind of question is that?

"He... Uh..." Annie thinks for a moment. "He was in mourning, visited her grave quite often-"

"And how do you know that?"

"Because I was there every day." Annie says honestly, and Matt nods a little. No one else probably saw it, but you did, because you were watching him since the moment he left his table. "But then he began going there less frequently, and one day I asked him, "have you visited mamma today?", we were eating at that time. He dropped the fork and said, "no, I think we should give mamma some peace, darling." And from that moment I knew that there was another."

"When did your father first introduced you to Melissa?"

"It was Christmas day, 6 months after my mother's funeral."

"What was your first impression of her?" Matt asks, standing next to the jury again.

"I disliked her from the moment she crossed the threshold of our house. But I gave her a chance to prove herself to be a good person, but she failed, many times. I found her cocky, and a manipulator, who thought of herself too good."

You notice how Benowitz is itching to object again, but you're sure he's plotting to interrogate Melissa, so she could tell a totally different side of the story, where everything was sunshine and daisies.

"What was her relationship with your father?"

"They seemed happy at first. I thought he has finally found a new will to live, but later he started working more and more, I barely saw him in the house. This went on for years, but in the past few, the situation got worse."

"How worse, Miss Dale?"

"They kept shouting at each other, constantly. It felt like they couldn't breathe the same air without getting at each other's throats. She really brought the worst of my father."

"Objection, your honor." Benowitz finally stands up from his seat. "This is just running around the point."

"Approved, get to the point, Mr Murdock." Judge waves his hand a little.

"I think I already did, your honor. I'll leave some questions for the others, if they want, of course." Matt smirks and slowly returns to his desk.

You pretend to write something in your notes when Benowitz nudges your shoulder across Melissa. "Go, don't fail."

Taking a deep breath, you stand up, Matt furrows his eyebrows. "Your Honor, may I ask some questions?"

"Yes."

"Good, great, perfect." You mutter to yourself while leaving your desk and walking to the front, stealing a glance toward Matt. Clearing your throat, you begin, "Miss Dale, could you tell us, why do you think that Mrs Dale is behind your father's murder?"

Benowitz looks at you, his eyes burn holes in your head. 

"Of course, it's because she's a lying two-faced harpy, who wanted to get all the money after my father's death. She tricked him with that wedding pact that half of the house and savings go to her if they divorce, or he dies. I heard them speaking many times, she tried to convince him to be my official guardian so she could get my money as well. She had all the reasons to wish for his death."

You nod to yourself and ask another question, "did you ever feel like she was trying to hurt him... Or you?"

"Yes. She couldn't be in the same room with me for longer than 5 minutes. But sometimes she got surprisingly nice and made food and stuff, I never ate it. Aside from the fact that it was disgusting to look at it, I was afraid that she might try to poison me."

"Why do you feel that way?"

"I never saw her eat anything she cooked in the last year. She always faked that she had a stomachache or her head hurt and she just watched us eat. I think she tried to get rid of me first." Annie looks at Melissa, the latter, surprisingly, holds her stare with a nonchalant look.

"No further questions, your Honor." You suddenly say and walk back to your seat, avoiding Benowitz's eyes. Of course, he wanted you to ask more, better questions but you had no intention of faking shit right now.

"Does anyone have more questions to ask Miss Dale?"

"No, your Honor. Not now." Benowitz says and Judge slowly nods. "Your Honor, may we question Mrs Dale? I think it would be fair to hear her side of the story." Benowitz says after a moment.

"Approved. Mrs Dale, please come to the stand."

Melissa leaves, gallantly sits on the chair and swears on the Bible. To lie. Foggy sends you a wink, still positive in this situation. Matt looks concentrated as ever, maybe even a little more than usually.

Benowitz stands up to question Melissa. "Mrs Dale, what do you think of your step-daughter's allegations?"

"I find them a little ridiculous, and sad... Depressing even." She pretends to be sad, but her botox-filled face can't make that emotion any more.

"So you're stating that Annie might have a depression?"

"I'm not stating anything, Mr Benowitz, but I would be lying if I said that I don't care about Annie's health... She is one of the few people left in my world, and I care about her very much. But I do think that sometimes she was behaving in a weird way." Melissa answers.

Lie. Matt is reading her heartbeat like an open book. She's lying but not so obviously. She's a skilled liar then.

"So you're claiming that she has tendencies to depression?" Benowitz stands in front of the judge, trying to assert some kind of dominance in the room.

"Again, I'm not claiming anything... It's just an observation."

"Right, of course, Mrs Dale." Benowitz thinks for a moment, then a smile paints his face. "Mrs Dale, did you love your husband?"

"Yes."

Lie.

"Did you love his daughter?"

"Yes, of course."

Lie.

"Did you want to have your own children with Mr Dale?"

"Yes, I adore kids. But he didn't want to have any more. I respected that decision. Annie was lovely enough than all the children in the whole world." Melissa fake smiles again.

She didn't lie about something this time.

"Why do you think Miss Dale is out here filing a case against you, and saying that you hired an assassin to kill your beloved husband?" Benowitz asks, in a tone that suggests that this whole statement is absolutely non-believable.

"I think she's after the money."

"That is ridiculous!" Annie stands up abruptly, and Foggy pleads her to sit back down.

"Order!" Judge says, knocking his gavel couple of times.

You sigh and feel yourself drifting away from the courtroom... God knows how long you've been staring at the speck of dust on your table, when huffing Benowitz sits down and starts flipping through the pile of papers, giving you an angry glare. Matt stands up, and slowly approaches Melissa.

"Your Honor, Jury, everyone who is gathered here for this case... I want to show the evidence that might change the course of this case." He spins around, presumably waiting for someone to show the photo on the big screen. Court officer hurries to turn on the screen, and starts searching for the said photo, while Matt crunches on his walking stick, a mysterious expression on his face.

"All set." The worker announces and Matt nods once.

"Here you can see the paid bill for the mysterious company called WindowNet, a company that doesn't exist at all. As well as its mysterious owner Mr Dominyc, who also doesn't exist. Doesn't that raise suspicions already? And the sum? 30 thousand dollars? A bit too much for a window company, right, Mrs Dale?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Melissa says calmly, although her heart is giving her away.

"Where did you get that photo, Mr Murdock?" Benowitz asks, already red as a tomato.

"An honorable citizen delivered it to our firm." Matt says, Foggy sends you a look.

"I'm sorry, but shouldn't this not count as evidence? Especially with the way it was inherited?" Benowitz asks, looking directly at the judge. 

She's not affected by the staring competition and simly asks, "Is Mrs Dale's data here correct?"

"Yes." Matt answers. "We've already got a warrant to access her bank account, and we're pretty sure that 30 thousand dollars were transferred to Mr Dominyc, who will probably turn out to be a fake bank account, possibly closed by now. Although..." Matt smiles a little, "I can't stop thinking why did Mrs Dale did a bank payment that is easy to trace, instead of paying in cash?" He turns to Melissa who sits there, with a sour expression.

"Objection, your Honor." Benowitz stands up, exhaling loudly. "This is a direct accusation of my client!"

"Denied." Judge simly looks at Melissa, waiting for her answer, but Annie stands up, answering for her step-mother,

"Because she's a sick pedant, who ALWAYS has to have a copy of literally everything. I've seen the marriage pact at least 4 times, in different places. Why does one even need four copies of that?"

"Order, order!"

Foggy pulls Annie to sit back down, some of jury members take notes, Matt is walking around, slowly getting closer to your side of the table, and midway turning back, while Benowitz looks like he's about to lose it at any given moment. Melissa payed a big sum and if he loses the case, he can say goodbye to that money.

"Mrs Dale, do you admit that you're guilty?" Judge asks, and in those years that you've worked as a lawyer, this was the first time that judge asked something like this.

"Your Honor, I'm asking for adjournment on the behalf of my client and the checking of the evidence." Benowitz grabs the last straw he had available.

Judge thinks for a moment then nods, "we'll proceed tomorrow. I want the evidence of Mr Murdock to be checked as soon as possible. We're done for today, tomorrow's session begins at 9 sharp." She stands up and leaves.

Everything happens so fast that you get caught up the the little human-traffic near the exit when someone harshly grabs your elbow, hissing in your ear, "we're gonna have a talk back in the office." You don't need to look up to know from the overpriced smell of his perfume that it was Benowitz. You stop in your tracks, blocking the exit of none other than Matt Murdock himself. He gently hugs your waist with one hand in a friendly manner, gripping his walking stick with another. Foggy follows the two of you in the corridor.

"What did he say? Didn't look very friendly." Foggy says as Matt finally drops his hand from your back.

"I think it's time to quit before I play too much with my career. Goodbye, boys, it's been a pleasure beating your asses in court." You simly say staring at your shoes and leaving the court, before anyone has a chance to stop you. 

[songmingisthighs]

Hooked

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

ch. xxxv - NYOOOOOOM

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??? × reader, ateez × reader

A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your 'relationship' led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you ?

Wooyoung and Yeosang were rushing you into the frat as quick as they could. Wooyoung carrying your bag and Yeosang practically hauling you away.

When you entered the frat, you could see that every single one of them is sitting around the living area. Some were seated on the couch as some were on the floor.

At the sight of you entering, their eyes lit up and smile bloom on their faces automatically.

"Is this an intervention?" you asked, walking slowly to where they are, slightly wary of the situation as they would rarely gather together to talk. More often than not, all communication happens in the group chat.

"Because I swear I'll return all your shirts and hoodies," you said, scrunching your nose in nervousness.

Mingi stood up and glomped onto you, nestling his face into the crook of your neck. He had to hunch because he's way taller than you. "You can take our clothes any time you want, this is not an intervention," he mumbled into your skin before detaching and planting a soft peck on your forehead, "missed you," he grinned.

You instinctively held onto Mingi's ring and pinkie as he led you to sit on the available spot at the left end of the U-shaped couch.

"So? Who wants to start?" Yunho asked, breaking the initial building silence.

The boys looked at each other for a bit before their eyes slowly zeroed in on Hongjoong. At the sudden attention, Hongjoong's eyes widened for a split second before scoffing, "one of you better start because I'm not doing it," he said, crossing his arms.

"But you're the leader," Yeosand stated matter-o-factly with a straight face. The others nodding along, agreeing to what Yeosang said.

Hongjoong grumbled at the fact that they're ganging up on him, using his own title against him. This is one of the rare few times he regretted having his title and even using it to his own advantage sometimes. The K in karma stands for Kang Yeosang, it seems.

You pursed your lips, still nervous and slightly uneasy. Historically, when a person is called by a group or collective, it was never for good reasons.

"So, (Y/N)," Hongjoong started, looking directly at you as his fingers fiddled slightly with the rings in his fingers, "do you like being with us?" he asked.

You visibly swallowed the lump in your throat. You couldn't help but feel like they're kicking you out, or the board is making them kick you out, that's the only reasonable explanation to the opening question Hongjoong threw at you, right?

Unconsciously, you leaned closer to Mingi for security and held his fingers tighter. Mingi thought nothing much of it. "Well, I like you guys like a lot, and living with you all has been great! More than great, actually, I never really had a roommate and initially the thought of having 8 roommates scared me especially because well you're guys and guys tend to be dirty and all, but it turns out you guys are freaking awesome, and I couldn't ask for better roommates honestly," you rambled, grinning awkwardly at them.

Most of them had a look of confusion on their faces. They didn't know why you were talking about your living situation when they're obviously asking about something much more substantial than that.

"(Y/N), sweetie," Seonghwa called out, "we're... glad that you're happy living with us here and we honestly wouldn't want it any other way," "wait, so this is not about anyone having a problem with me living here for quite some time now?" you asked, cutting Seonghwa off.

Wooyoung gasped loudly at your question, "no, it's not, sweetie, believe me! Who'd make you feel this way?" he then snapped his head to San who's sitting next to him, "was it you!?" he asked dramatically, holding onto the collars of San's hoodie, "fuck you, if anyone would've made her uncomfortable, it would've been you with your incessant claim on her as her boyfriend which is as true as Yeosang being able to pop unicorn horn from his ass!" San retorted back, grabbing onto Wooyoung's collars as well.

Seonghwa and Yunho immediately jumped up and separated the two, sitting them in next to Jongho and Yeosang who had been snickering at the childish argument.

Once they both calmed down, they all shifted their attention back to you. "We weren't talking about our living situation at all, we're kind of... needing to ask you something important..." Yunho said, trailing off to look at the others as if in confirmation.

No longer feeling nervous, you just shrug at them all, "okay, shoot."

Though you asked them to talk, they all stay glancing at each other. Even Wooyoung, the most confident man you possibly have ever known, couldn't look you directly in the eyes without blushing.

After a while, the tension didn't seem to dissipate and it started to bug you. "Oh, come on! You guys have seen me naked, what could you all possibly have to say that made you all sweating like an old man in a sauna?" you grumbled, crossing your arms on your chest.

Jongho cringed at your words, "don't put you and a sweaty old man in the same sentence, that image's gonna haunt me for weeks," he complained. San stared at him weirdly, "why would you even think about a sweaty old man?" "It's called prompting," "It's called nasty,"

Yeosang exhaled sharply, bringing everyone's attention to him, "since none of you seems to want to seriously ask her, I'll do it," he glared at the other boys before looking straight at you, "how do you feel, non platonically, about all of us?" he asked directly.

While you tilt your head in confusion, everyone else in the room seemed to broke into a meltdown altogether. Some were covering their faces in their hands, others were slumping so lowly on the couch their asses were basically on the floor.

"I... honestly haven't really thought about it," you shrugged, furrowing your eyebrows, "but I can't say I'm not attracted to all of you, sure we're friends and this might be just a fascination thing, but I really can't deny that I definitely feel something for you guys," you continued.

When they heard you say that, they visibly relaxed.

"That's good, because, well..." Yeosang trailed off, waiting for someone else to say it as a rosy tint bloomed on his face, showcasing his bashfulness to everyone.

Thankfully, Hongjoong stepped up and continued Yeosang's sentence, "because we, all eight of us, also can't deny that we feel something for you," he smiled shyly.

Seeing the boys all soft and shy made you giggle. Butterflies formed in your stomach and you had to admit that you like the thought of all of them liking you more than on a platonic level.

"So... every single one of you has feelings for me?" you asked, trying to make sure before you made your conclusion. All eight heads nod and you can't help but to focus on Jongho and Mingi, "you both too?" you asked them both, eyes darting between the two.

While Jongho grinned cockily and nod, Mingi covered his face with one hand in embarrassment, "yeah, kind of," he mumbled. You giggled and reach to try to pry his hand from his face, wanting to see how he look, "when did you start feeling like that, huh? I thought you only think of me as a stress reliever," you whined but eventually succeeding in prying his hand off.

Mingi raised an eyebrow at you, "the fact that we've been sleeping together combined with how amazing you are, it was never about if I'd fall for you, it was about the when," he said. You couldn't help but blush at his words, "so you liked me because we were fuck buddies?" "it sounds bad when you put it like that, but I was intrigued when I first met you which is why I approached you,"

You then shifted your gaze to the others, "When did you all realize you like me?" you asked, "as cliche as it sounds, it was the night we all did it together," Yunho answered.

"Not me," Wooyoung said, raising a hand, "I realized it like a solid couple of weeks after we started our whole fake relationship thing," he grinned proudly, "I began liking the way I call you my girlfriend more than I would like to admit, but I couldn't think of another person more perfect for me than you,"

It was your turn to melt. You covered your face in embarrassment, letting out a muffled squeal at how cheesy Wooyoung's words are. The others chuckled at how adorable you're being.

"You know, the eight of us talked about it before you came back here," Hongjoong said. You calm yourself down before being able to look at him directly in the eyes again, "and... we just wanted to know whether or not you'd like to date us,"

You tilted your head to the side, "like... All nine of us? One girl and eight boys?" you asked, making sure you're not hearing things wrong. But all of them nodded firmly. "It's not orthodox, I'd have to admit, and usually we would each try to win you over for only one of us, but when we were together last time, it just felt natural and I can't speak for these guys, but I didn't feel jealous whatsoever, because I know that you deserve more than just what I could and am willing to give you, and they can fill in where I lack because you deserve nothing but the best," Seonghwa said. He had somehow moved to kneel in between your legs, hands rubbing your knees gently as his eyes shone what you could only describe as pure affection and adoration.

The others piped in agreement with the eldest. It seemed like they know what they're doing and what they want. So the ball was in your court.

On one hand, you adore them to the heavens and back, you couldn't possibly think of having things any other way. And the thought of having to choose between them doesn't sit right with you. Sure, you're just one person, but you're sure if they're right, things will be okay.

But on the other hand, Seonghwa was right, this is highly unorthodox. Sure, you've heard of poly relationships here and there, heck one of your classmates' sister is in a poly relationship with three girls. But you can't deny you live in a society that's filled with judgment and harsh criticism, more than yourself, you're worried about how going down this path would affect them. And besides, how did one went from not wanting to even have random hookups due to wanting to have a relationship with 8 guys?

"See the look on her face? The wheels are turning in there," you heard Jongho muttered to the rest of them who had moved to kneel in front of you somewhere during your thoughts.

You glared at him shortly before pouting, "I do want to know if there could be something more to this," you started. The boys were about to celebrate when you cut them off, "BUT, I'm not sure on how this is gonna be, let's face it, you guys seemed to realize that you like me after we had sex," "I didn't," Wooyoung cut you off which was immediately shut by Yeosang, putting a hand over his mouth, "feelings tend to mash then and I wouldn't be surprised if it was the sexual pull talking," you sighed.

Their shoulder seemingly slumped hearing you say that. They didn't even discuss that, they were pretty sure that they genuinely like you and want to be more with you. Maybe they didn't want what you said to even be a possibility.

Suddenly, San perked up, "wait, if what you're worried about is whether or not our feelings are the real deal or not, then why don't you just test it? You can just decide later if we're gonna officially date or not. Take things slowly, you know?" he grinned brightly.

Slowly, each of the boys' eyes widened and shone with hope, thinking that San's plan is actually probable.

"Finally, San said something fucking smart for once," Yunho muttered, earning a harsh nudge to his hip by a glaring San.

The idea wasn't bad. It was actually good. This way, all of you can be sure and there would be no regrets, no one got hurt.

You squint your eyes at him, "but what would that make us?" "that's the beauty of it, there would be no official title until we make our decision," he said proudly. You pursed your lips, feelings swaying and leaning on the positive, "and how long do I have to make a decision?" this time, Yeosang answered, "as long as you need, we won't rush you," he smiled gently at you, making your stupid heart flip.

The idea WAS appealing, it was a win-win for sure.

When a smile broke on your face, the boys had to hold themselves together to let you confirm their suspicion.

"I'm in, let's try and see where we all can go,"

Before you could even take a breath after answering, the boys had pulled you forward in a giant group hug on the floor. You found yourself squished by eight men who are hollering, cheering, trying to kiss you, and trying to hold onto you as tightly as possible. While the position was uncomfortable, you couldn't care less.

Because being in the centre of them all felt right. It felt like you belong.

taglist :

@raysanshine @peachy-maia @xuxiable @90s-belladonna @theclawofaraven @sanraes @sungiehan @felix-kithes @nycol-ie @superstarw99 @skkrtnawrskkrt @viv-atiny @the7thcrow @stfu-xeena @laurademaury @multihoe-net @daisyhwa @scoupshushushu @whyisquill @bikiniholic @yunhorights @exfolitae @simplewonderland @verycooldog2 @perfectlysane24 @hannahdinse8 @tannie13 @aka-minhyuk-kun @phebeedee @f4iryyunho @marsophilia @donghyuckanti27 @se-onghwa @malewife-supremacy @hyunsukream @elijahbabyb @taejichafe @alliecoady98

[taechaos]

Blackmail

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Jimin offers you information on Jungkook, but your friendship is misconstrued by Jungkook who ends it singlehandedly with one video of you professing your love to him between moans.

warnings: dubcon, fingering, degredation, mild squirting, manipulation

word count: 2.8k

a/n: jealous kook doesn't realize he's jealous. this part is a bit extreme, so beware ><

One doesn't come across someone like Jungkook every day. It's fate that you met him in your first year of college, extending to your second where he grows closer to you; fair, it's clear that he only intends to use you for his academic success, but you've deluded yourself into thinking you're in love with each other. Growing up, you only had your dysfunctional family to teach you about how to love, how to think. As long as Jungkook needs you, he will love you, and you’re willing to do anything to be with him, only him. You need him to live.

Birds sing in the background as you lay on your stomach on the grass of the yard across the campus. It’s sunny and breezy, the perfect spring day as you work on Jungkook’s research paper due next month. You compiled multiple credible sources in a separate file to create an outline for his essay the moment he forwarded the assignment to you. You want him to praise you, pet your hair, kiss your cheek for starting so early so he can turn it in before anyone else. He would be proud, flashing you his pearly whites and adoring eyes. The reward motivates you to work harder and you’re relentlessly skimming through articles while counting down the minutes of Jungkook's lecture. He'll be outside with his friends in 7 minutes.

With a bad childhood, you don’t care to befriend many people. You only have a few friends to keep you company and you’re socially awkward outside of that group. You’re content, so you steer clear of boys who try to sabotage your relationship with Jungkook. Jimin, however, doesn’t get the memo.

Typing away on your laptop, a shadow looms over you to give you a break from the sunlight. You glance up and stop swinging your legs absentmindedly when you recognize the shadow; it’s a boy with frames and a tight collar adorning his neck.

Park Jimin is a typical nerd whereas you’re more of a closeted nerd. When you’re in love, you usually put more effort into your appearance to impress the one on your mind, but that doesn’t work with Jungkook. It’s always other men giving you their attention through second glances, and that includes Jimin.

“What do you want?” you rudely greet. Jimin is ruthless with his attempts at pursuing you; he’s the perfect gentleman, and often volunteers to do group tasks with you. He is never mean to anyone, and has a squeaky clean reputation, but his only flaw is that he can’t take a hint. You don't bother being friendly to him because you don't want friends.

"I want to know why you look so happy," he bends over to curiously glance at your screen, "while doing homework?"

You slam the monitor closed to stop his ogling. "You wouldn't get it. And stop watching me," you sternly say.

"What's your secret?" he grins and sits down on the grass next to you with crossed legs. His upper body serves as a shade and you stop squinting.

"There is no secret, I was just in a good mood until you came along." You're not upset, but you don't want to lead Jimin on and he won't leave unless you blow him off.

"Thinking of Jungkook?" he teases with a mischievous smile.

"Are you stalking me?"

"No, you're just too obvious," he chuckles, but the sound is strained. You don't notice his melancholy as he continues, "You were doing his homework again?"

You shift on your propped elbows a little uncomfortably. Jimin doesn't need to know what you do in your free time. "Yes," you answer anyway.

"You know he has daddy issues?"

Your eyes round as your discomfort dissipates instantly; he's piqued your interest. "Really?"

"Yeah, he has a tough exterior but he's actually a real softie."

An involuntary smile carves on your face before it falters as you ask, "How do you know this?"

"We went to high school together. I can tell you some stories if you want," he boasts when he realizes he has your attention. The context makes his heart sink, but when he imagines your lovesick grin is directed at him, it fills him with joy.

"Tell me, tell me! Please."

"Weeell," he draws with a lopsided grin, "don't tell him I told you this, but he used to hate girls. I don't know if he still does, but back then he couldn't even stand talking to a girl."

"Why?" your eyes are wide with interest as you whisper.

He shrugs, "No idea, but he hit a girl once when she wouldn't stop clinging onto him. Not like drop-kick her," he laughs, "he just shoved her on the ground. Be careful with him, okay? He can be very aggres-"

"You guys forming a nerd club now?"

You gasp when you hear Jungkook's voice. When you look up at him, he's almost glaring as his eyes flicker from you to Jimin. You're gleeful at his approach, because he never comes to you unless it's about a new assignment. It flutters your heart to see him without any papers in his hand.

You don't take his subtle insult to heart as you immediately respond, "No, we were just talking. H-Hi."

"Pull down your skirt, you look like a whore. I can see your panties all the way from the gates," he seethes in distaste. You instantly sit up with a blush and tug your skirt down to your knees. He looks back at Jimin who's glaring at him under his lashes, "The fuck's your deal?"

"Nothing," Jimin grits. Although he hates Jungkook's guts, he's too smart to fight a lost cause. He has his own set of muscles, but it isn't enough. It's best to accept defeat now.

"Did you start on the paper?" Jungkook asks you.

"Yes, I-"

"Good," he cuts you off and crouches to peck your lips by pulling the back of your neck. You're stunned when he pulls away and nonchalantly walks off to his friends.

Jimin follows him with his eyes and mutters under his breath, "douche."

Your heart is racing and you clamp a hand over your chest as a lovestruck smile spreads across your face. You know this is your end of the bargain, but it never fails to shrivel you up in delight.

"Are you two dating?" he mumbles as he pulls on the grass with a pout.

"Something like that," you exhale as you caress your lips.

It’s become routine to link up with Jimin where he reminisces his high school memories and you don’t doubt a single word he says unless it sheds a bad light on Jungkook. You’ve learned so much about him in the past few days, and you’re eager to know more. He likes energy drinks to this day, he was athletic in school and often got into fights. He began interacting with girls when he entered college, as Jimin says, “only for a quick fuck.”

Though it hurts Jimin that you only talk to him for information on Jungkook, he can’t bring himself to care when you hang onto every word he says with a glint in your eyes like you’re doing now.

You're sitting in the bustling cafeteria across from Jimin, sipping on a homemade strawberry lemonade from your thermos, and you don't notice Jungkook glancing at your table every now and then. It is the first time he doesn't feel your heavy gaze on him. Jimin does notice however, because he is facing him every time he receives a threatening ferile look.

"He could become a lawyer with how much he blackmailed the teachers to give him a good grade," Jimin tells you as he glances back and forth between you and Jungkook. "He's quite dangerous, you know. He's manipulative, a liar and has no empathy-"

"He's clever," you counter defensively, "he knows how to get around the system."

He makes a disgruntled noise from the back of his throat with a grimace. "I don't think the judge would listen to that."

You laugh at his comparison of the conversation to a court hearing. Jimin can be funny sometimes, and you have to admit that he's not that bad of a friend either. You've come to enjoy his company without the topic of Jungkook the past few days, but talking about him is always appreciated.

"Are you the judge then?" you cheekily ask.

"I might as well be, since I'm not biased like a certain someone," he teases with a grin.

"A lawyer has to see the bright side of things, but if I was the prosecutor, I wouldn't tell you that your lecture is in five minutes."

His smile falters as his eyes widen; you remember his schedule? He ran late for a lecture yesterday, but he’s in disbelief that you reminded him today. "Th-Thanks," he breathes as he packs up his belongings before giving you a curt, shy nod. His heart pounds when he walks away, and he resists the urge to look back at you.

It's a good idea, because that's when Jungkook settles down on his former seat.

"I'm thinking you might be forgetting who you belong to," he starts as he gets comfortable on the stiff chair. You instantly smile at his appearance.

"No, I'm very well aware of it." Your tone is high-pitched in excitement.

"It wasn't a question."

"Oh..."

“You talk more than you work,” he observes with a quirk of his brow. “One would think another nerd would be a better influence on you.”

“I work at night,” you defend worriedly, “I promise I’m not slacking off. Can I get a kiss please?”

You’re so adorable when you’re needy. He hides a smirk with a bite of his lip; he thrives from your loyalty to him, but he knows Jimin is a threat to it. He wants you to stop talking to that freak, and he justifies it as a concern for his grades. “I’ll kiss you when you’re not procrastinating. Do you think you deserve even a pat on the head?”

“I do! I’m halfway done with the research paper, please Jungkook,” you beg pathetically, “I-I’ll show it to you, I have it with me right now.” You start unzipping the case of your laptop until he holds up a hand for you to stop.

“You’re going to read it to me, but not here.”

When he stands up, so do you in a haste. He leaves the cafeteria with you hot on his tail, almost jogging when his strides are much bigger compared to yours. You resemble a clueless lamb following a lion, desperate to hold his claws with your hooves. You don’t know where he’s leading you as you walk down the halls until you stop in front of a door. You’re about to freak out when he swings open the door, but you realize the lecture room is empty.

“You want me to read here?” you inquire meekly. It’s a little intimidating to do it in complete silence, because you have a tendency to stutter when reading out loud and you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Jungkook where no one can talk over you. 

“Yup.” He snatches your laptop case from your hand with the handle, and roughly opens it before placing the device on the front row wooden desk. It’s a large hall, and the desks stretch out to the half of the room. You’re feeling stage fright for no particular reason; it feels like reverse claustrophobia. “Open the document and give me your phone.”

You don’t question him and hand in your phone before going through your files on the laptop. Jungkook is looking through your contacts and grins when he finds himself saved as: the love of my life ♡. Jimin is saved by his name, and he finds his WhatsApp through his information below. Once he opens your empty chat with him, he switches to your camera and pushes your back so you’re bent over the desk. You sharply inhale and ask, “Kook?” 

“Don’t get distracted now,” he lightly scolds and starts pulling down your pants. You stopped wearing skirts after the incident a week ago to appease him. You stammer with your back arched, and your ass is on full display for him. It’s humiliating. “Start reading.”

“H-Humans are- Jungkook?” you warily look back at Jungkook when he slides the slit of your panties to the side.

“Are you slacking off?” he condescends. 

You bite your lip anxiously and continue reading, “Humans are social animals that n-need social interaction,” Jungkook spits in his hand, “the extent of our social relationships is the most important predictor of h-happiness.” You squeal when you feel wet fingers graze your folds, but you know better than to stop and ask what he’s doing.

“Continue,” he coaxes softly as he brushes his fingertips over your pussy lips. 

“Um, o-one of the main reasons our brains have developed the way they have is so that we can be social,” you speak between shaky breaths. Your cheeks are tinted crimson with embarrassment from his touches; why is he pleasuring you when he specifically told you, you didn’t deserve any? “Being happy a-all of the time is neither possible nor desirable.”

“Is it now?” He slips a finger in your cunt and you involuntarily let out a cry as you push your body forward. You don’t notice him holding up your phone behind you while slowly sliding his finger in and out of you. His saliva is mixing with your arousal as you answer in a gasp, “Yes.”

“Tell me why.”

“B-Because negative feelings are natural. When it comes to negative feelings, the most important thing to remember is to learn,” you pause to exhale with quivering lips, “to control certain potentially harmful thoughts.” You whine his name when another finger is added to your heat. You’re moving your hips back and forth until he slaps your wet folds as a warning. “Sorry,” you peep and continue in a breath, “Happiness all of the time entails epistemic irrationality.”

It’s difficult to keep your eyes open when you just want to indulge in his thrusts, but you’re encouraged to stop reading when he doesn’t comment on your moans. His pace is quickening and you chase his fingers with your hips, cum dripping down his wrist as you mewl.  

“You enjoying yourself, whore?”

You nod and whimper, “So much.” You’re clutching the edge of the desk as he fingers you with fervor.

“And you're my girl?” 

“Yes, all yours, I love you so much,” you pant, not stopping for a moment to question his words. He has a full view of your sopping wet cunt on the camera, and he lightly blows on you, making you shiver. He’s recording you confess your love for him while getting fingered.

“Only me?” he presses.

“Only you, Jungkook, I love you more than anything,” you slur as you start to feel a knot in your stomach.

“Then pee.”

“Wh-What?”

“Touch your clit and pee.” He removes his fingers from your clenching hole and takes a step back. “Prove your love to me.”

You mourn the loss of his hand while staring wide-eyed at the floor. You’re contemplating his demand as your hand slowly reaches down to your clit. Is he asking you to squirt? Your breathing is shallow as you near your climax, and you still don’t know if you’ll go through with his requirement.

It drips out in tiny drops as you come undone, moaning as clear liquid spills out of you for only a few seconds. 

“Good girl, my good little girl,” Jungkook whispers as he intently watches you humiliate yourself in the name of love. You’re twitching and trembling in shame when he stops recording you and sends it to Jimin without a second’s waste. “Are you okay, baby?”

You hum with a pout as you collect yourself by standing up straight, a sway in your posture. 

“Give me your panties, you’ve made a mess on the floor,” he chastises as he holds out a hand. You slip and step out of them before giving it to him. In return, he passes your phone before feigning a gasp, “Shit, I think I sent Jimin a video of you when I was trying to forward it to my phone.”

Your mouth falls open as heat consumes your entire being. “H-Huh?” Tears brim in your eyes almost instantly; your heart is pounding from anxiety.

“How will you ever look at him now,” he empathizes with a fake frown. “He must think of you as such a slut now.”

“Let me delete it,” you panic as you open your phone. “Wh-Where is it?”

He motions you to give him the phone and opens WhatsApp after. “He’s already seen it.” There are two blue ticks under the message.

“No, no, no,” you pull your hair in agony with a whimper. You quickly put your pants back on and cry as you do so.

“I guess that’s the end of your friendship,” he raises his eyebrows to himself without a hint of sympathy.

“What do I do?!” you wail and fling your hands in stress.

“Avoid him. I’ll make sure he won’t leak it.”

He steps forward to lean in your face intimidatingly. “And don’t talk to him ever again.”

You don’t exactly have a choice now, do you? 

[lovetorn]

all for the game [dream]

Exy player!Dream x Reader

summary: dream runs into trouble when the florida falcons play the edgar allan ravens.

w/c: 3.4k+ :D

warnings: violence, blood, swearing, ha typical exy shit

a/n: an au based on my favourite book trilogy, all for the game. idea by 🍀 anon <3 i wrote this for my own enjoyment AHHAHAAH. if u don’t understand the rules etc of exy, it’s basically hockey, soccer and lacrosse meshed together, but if u have any questions, send me an ask!

—

Exy is a bastard sport, an evolved sort of lacrosse with the violence of ice hockey. Dream loves every aspect of it. It is vastly different from the usual college football, and it certainly gives you more bruises. Maybe a little too many more bruises. Played in a stadium, on a soccer-sized basketball court with plexiglass to protect the crowd, it brings Dream immense joy.

Scooping the ball into the net of his racket, Dream looks at the wall before he uses his body to launch the ball towards it. The ball is quick to bounce back and plop into Dream’s net. He adjusts his grip on the stick and tilts his head, deciding where his next shot should be.

“Dream?” The dirty blonde turns around and sees you push through the plexiglass door that leads onto the court. “Hey!”

Dream smiles from under his helmet. “Hi, Y/n!” You don't play Exy, choosing to watch your best friend from the sidelines instead. He grips the grate of his helmet and slides his head out of it, his hair sticking up in every direction. “What are you doing here?”

You throw your arms up. “Coming to see you practice the great sport that is Exy,” You laugh before spinning around and looking up at the highest seats of the stadium. “Haven’t broken a bone yet, I assume?” This made Dream laugh.

“No, not yet. Saving that for the game against the Ravens.”

Dream’s determination for Exy scared you a little bit—it was almost like he wanted to get hurt. “Easy, tiger. We all know what happened last time we played them. Never again, please,” You shake your head, walking closer to him. The last time the Florida Falcons played the West Virginia Edgar Allan Ravens, Dream got a concussion so bad he couldn’t walk for a few days. You had sworn they would pay for their damage, but Dream went against you.

Dream rolls his eyes, lightheartedly. “That’s the way the game goes, Y/n. No way you can stop it,” he said that back then, too. You throw him a glare before taking the racket out of his hand to gain his full attention.

“Just, please be careful.” You practically beg. Dream’s eyebrows raise slightly, surprised. He didn’t see that coming.

“Yeah, always,” He follows your eyes as they trace the scar that runs from his temple to the middle of his forehead. You sigh and pass his racket back to him.

—

The dark purple Edgar Allan Ravens bus pulls into the Falcon’s home stadium car park that Friday night. Fans from all over the state and West Virginia crowd the entrances and surprisingly, there are a lot more supporters in purple and black than green and white.

Dream looks down at his forest green Exy uniform and smooths out his jersey. He rolls his neck in a circle to release the building tension. A hand clamps down on his shoulder as Dream slips his hands into his green and white gloves.

“You’re gonna be fine, dude. We all are,” Sapnap says, although Dream can hear the waver in his voice. Dream shakes his head and Sapnap inhales sharply.

“Nah, we won’t be.”

Sapnap slides his hand off of Dream’s shoulder and turns around, probably going to the bathroom to calm his crippling trepidation. The locker room is silent as the team moves around, changing and preparing themselves for the game ahead. Dream tries not to think about the team on the other side of the stadium, who are most likely already warming up despite the game starting in an hour.

Dream opens his locker and fumbles around for his phone. He needs to know that you’re here. Opening his messages, he’s frozen from the notifications coming through.

I hope your little friend prayed for you last night.

You got lucky with that concussion. Take this as a warning.

Dream’s fingertips trail up to hover above the scar on his forehead. He clenches his fist and throws his phone back into the locker, not flinching when the dark green metal dents. Dream leans his head against his forearm that rests on the locker.

“Dream! Dude, calm down,” A voice calls from across the room. Footsteps come up behind him and Dream has to stop the tears collecting on his waterline. “It’ll be fine, Coach said he might put you on for one half.”

George’s comments do nothing to soothe Dream’s anxiety. Dream has told nobody about the threats he’s been getting for a few days leading up to this game. If he told you, he wouldn’t even be here. You.

Dream ducks down to find his phone. George furrows his eyebrows as he watches. “Wha—?”

Grasping his phone, Dream then stalks out of the locker room. He walks down the hallway towards the inner court, presses your phone number on his now-smashed phone, and brings it to his ear. Pick up, pick up. “Dream?”

The sound of your voice makes Dream exhale deeply. “Where are you?” He asks desperately.

Dream can hear the crowd chattering through the phone as he scans over the stadium trying to find you.

“Uh, section 4, row 38, where I am every home game. Why? Is everything okay?” The worry in your voice is evident and it fails to calm Dream down like he thought it would. And when he sees waves of purple instead of green, his anxiety grows.

“I—Y/n. I need to see you, I don’t—I can’t,” Dream screws his eyes shut and tries to breathe through his nose slowly.

“Dream, I’m coming. I can see you in the inner court. Stay there.”

Y/n hangs up after that and Dream looks at his phone.

Scared? A text says from an unknown number.

Dream presses his tongue into the inside of his cheek and blinks a few times. A knock on the plexiglass behind him startles Dream. He turns and sees you smiling. He lifts his hand in a small wave and you do the same, laughing at him. At least he has a way to take his mind off of the shit with the Ravens.

A bell signals the start of the line-up announcements and Dream throws his thumb over his shoulder. You nod, understandingly, and blow him a kiss. Dream smiles shyly, his cheeks growing pink before he turns to leave.

You make your way back up to your seat, your legs bouncing in anticipation as the Ravens walk on the court one by one while the announcer calls the line-up. Once the Ravens are in a line on the halfway line, the Falcons are announced.

Since teams are co-ed, the variances in heights differ greatly. The Ravens are much taller than a majority of the Falcons, which gives them an advantage, to an extent. Dream had told you that being shorter allows you to move around the court with more agility, but being 6’2’’, Dream chose to be a striker instead of a dealer or a backliner.

“Number 2, Dream Tucker.”

At the sound of your best friend’s name, you stand and cheer, earning a few dirty looks from Ravens fans. As the remainder of the team is announced, you grow more nervous than you thought possible. A warning buzzer sounds and both teams go back to their benches.

“Alright, guys, this is our biggest game of the season, again. The last game against these idiots wasn’t ideal, but don’t let that deter you from doing your best tonight. That goes for you too, Dream," Coach looks towards Dream and he nods. Dream draws his bottom lip between his teeth from under his helmet and looks down at the ground. Sapnap’s hand slaps Dream's back in support and then the rest of the team is in agreement.

At his teammates’ words, Dream huffs. He can do this. The starting team goes onto the court, the doors closing behind them with a thump and then the scrape of a lock.

Dream sits on the bench next to Punz and Liliana. They hear the buzzer go off again and then watch as Sapnap flicks the ball into the air and slams it with his racket. There’s a distinctive crack as both teams race off their lines to find their preferred place on the court along with the players they need to mark. Three bodies crash into each other and the ball pops out on the other side, rolling silently.

At the sight of violence, the stadium roars. A Ravens backliner throws the ball and it hits the plexiglass in front of Dream who jumps in surprise. The ball is picked up off the floor by another Ravens player. He throws it to a girl who is running across the court and it lands perfectly into her net. Dream sees Tegan bodyslam the girl into the wall, the glass shuddering under their weight and Sapnap throws his hand up in a thumbs-up at Tegan, who smiles under her helmet.

The ball sails high in the air and players push and shove each other under it. As it comes down, George gets pushed to the floor, skidding to a stop a few feet away. The Ravens striker looks George dead in the eye and smirks as he catches the ball. He then tosses it powerfully towards the home court goal and the Falcons' goalie, Gabby, hits it up the court and away from herself. Dream, Punz and Liliana cheer from their spots on the subs bench.

“Nice one, Gabs! Falcons down the court!” Coach yells through the plexiglass.

Dream wears a smile when he turns back to look at you. You grin back, give him a thumbs-up, and nod. That’s when Dream knows he’s ready.

But, ten minutes into the game, the Ravens break the Falcons defensive line. The ball slips through the gap between Gabby’s torso and racket and lands in the back of the net, the siren above the goal going red and blaring a high-pitched sound. The Ravens don’t hug or cheer and return to their places on the court. Their fans, however, throw insults and middle fingers up at the Falcons while screaming and hollering.

“Fuck’s sake,” Dream mumbles. Punz slaps his pair of gloves against the bench and Liliana shakes her head.

The game went on like this for the rest of the half—the Ravens scoring 6 more goals, the Falcons scoring none. At half-time, Sapnap throws his helmet on the floor of the locker room.

“I fucking hate these guys,” He curses, pacing around the room. Coach sits on a chair, his elbows on his knees.

“We all do, but complaining about it isn’t going to help us win,’ Dream says. “Coach put me on.”

Coach looks at Dream for a moment. The tension in the room is thick and Dream knows he’s pushing his luck by asking. Nonetheless, Coach sighs before nodding stiffly.

“Dream goes on for Peter, Punz on for Drew, Liliana on for Tegan.”

And so it’s decided. Dream’s thumbs fly across his screen as he texts you. You pull your phone out of your pocket at the sound of your text tone and see the message. I’m on.

You smirk softly at it and message him back before you tuck your phone back into your pocket. The warning buzzer sounds and then both teams are back on the court: the Ravens with a whole new line-up and the Falcons with their three new subs.

Dream’s heart pounds in his chest, sending shuddery heat through every inch of his body. He holds his breath in anticipation for the serve, and then it starts. The Ravens are clearly a lot more experienced than the Falcons, but that doesn’t stop the team in green from giving everything they’ve got.

The ball hits the far wall and comes soaring back, thanks to the Ravens goalie. Dream jumps to catch it before it can fly over his head and it lands safely in the soft net of his striker racket. He looks around for opponents and takes 7 steps of his allowed 10, and passes it to George who is open further down the court. George catches the ball, then twists and passes the ball across to Punz. His mark collides with him a moment later and George goes sliding, his arm out with his racket to help him balance. Punz runs down the court, stops, then throws the ball to Liliana. His mark slams his racket down violently on Punz’s in retaliation. The backliner shakes his head in annoyance and continues running.

Dream is already near the goal by the time it gets to him again. He gets the ball and only has two steps to aim and shoot before a Ravens player crashes into him. Dream hits the ground so hard, he rolls. But, the crowd holds their breath as they watch the ball sail past the goalie and into the back of the net. The siren glows red and all Dream can hear is his ears ringing. Sapnap runs up to Dream and helps him up, congratulating him in the process. Dream looks around confused before realising he scored a goal. The entire team rushes towards him, cheering and laughing.

“Good job, Dream! Let’s do that again!” Coach yells. Dream’s surprised he can hear him over the crowd.

The game starts again with Falcons serve. The Falcons’ are fired up and back in the game, even if it is 6-1. And as soon as George throws Dream the ball, he dodges his mark and flies up the court, unguarded and ready to score again. The Ravens’ goalie isn’t prepared for Dream’s throw and misses the ball as it’s thrown at him, making the score 6-2. The crowd gets impossibly louder and Dream looks up into the sea of people to spot you. The smile on your face gives Dream newfound confidence and then everybody is back at their starting positions.

The Ravens are angry, there’s no doubt about that. Sapnap gives the striker a boyish smirk and a snide comment, which Dream can’t hear. He guesses it pisses them off because the second the ball is thrown from the Ravens dealer, the striker goes straight for Sapnap. The younger boy is thrown against the wall of the court and continues to spit insults at the Ravens player, despite his situation.

“Sapnap! Get out of there, bro!” Punz yells, collecting the ball from the ground and throwing it back to Gabby to hit up the court. Sapnap laughs and shakes his head, his lips still moving. Dream sees, out of the corner of his eye, the Ravens player drawing his fist back before punching Sapnap in the nose. The Falcons fans in the crowd start booing at the unnecessary violence and the referees unlock the doors to intervene. Dream meets Sapnap’s eye and raises his eyebrows when he sees Sapnap laughing, blood dripping into his mouth and coating his teeth. The referees pull the Ravens striker off of Sapnap and give him a red card for throwing the first punch. The Ravens fans boo and start swearing at the referees, but their cries are drowned out by the sound of the home crowd.

Due to the incident, the teams are to go back to their positions to start the serve again. Now that the Ravens are down a player, Dream knows the ways to get around them, especially when Sapnap is unguarded.

“Dream!” Sapnap calls when Dream catches the ball. He spins around a little too quickly, loses his balance slightly but throws the ball anyway. As he watches it fly across the court, Dream feels his entire body get crushed against the wall of the court. His head rebounds off the wall from the impact. There’s a heavy weight that pushes him into it more and he can’t breathe. Dream flails his arms, drops his racket, and attempts to push the Ravens player off of him. There’s no doubt that Dream hit his head again. He knows he did. A helmet can only do so much.

Dream can only hear ringing in his ears as he feels the Raven get pulled off—and it isn't the same ringing he heard when he scored the Falcons first goal. He tries to scramble to his feet before he crumples to the ground. Dream blinks a few times, disorientated, but still fails to gain a conscious mind. His eyes start to close when he feels his helmet being tugged off and then someone’s slapping his cheeks. “Stay awake, Dream.”

Dream can barely hear the sound of someone slamming their fists against the plexiglass behind him and then the person in front of him nods. He thinks it’s Sapnap. “Come on, bro, it’s only a few steps and then you can lie down.”

Dream’s head lols to the side, eyes half-open and a lazy grin on his mouth. “Sappy,” he slurs. Sapnap lets out a laugh for the first time since his best friend got knocked out and smiles at him.

“Yeah, dude, it’s me. We’re gonna get you fixed up, okay?” Dream nods before he closes his eyes. “No, no, Coach!” The world fades out around him and Dream falls unconscious.

—

The light is so bright above him. Dream closes his eyes again after he opens them and groans softly. The sound is almost too quiet for you to hear, but you do. And when you do, you lift your head from where you were resting on the edge of his bed. The chair you are sitting in is uncomfortable, so when you stand up, your muscles ache. “Hey, baby, how do you feel?”

If Dream was fully conscious, he would have blushed immensely at the sound of the pet name, but for the moment, he feels like he’s in a dream. His mouth is dry and he struggles to keep his eyes open for longer than 3 seconds. “You don’t have to talk, it’s okay.”

Dream feels pressure on his hand and moves his head slightly to see that your fingers are wrapped around his. You hear him murmur something, and lean down.

“Hi,” He whispers. You furrow your eyebrows at his greeting and look him in the eyes.

“That’s all I get? Hi?” You let out a breathy laugh and use your other hand to brush his hair away from his forehead. But, Dream can’t feel you on his skin. He hesitantly lifts his other hand to touch his forehead and feels a bandage.

“Surprise! Another scar,” You joke. Although, Dream can hear the edge to your words. Your smile disappears from your lips and then you sigh. Your eyes scan over Dream’s face, noting the dull green of his eyes and the pale of his skin. “Oh, Dream. I was so worried about you.”

Dream opens his eyes from when they had fallen closed again and sees the silent tears dripping down your cheeks. “It’s okay, I’m here, I’m fine,” His voice is scratchy and the sound of the word ‘fine’ does not sound fine. You smile sadly at him, then huff, wiping at your face.

“I almost forgot…” You trail off, rounding the bed to the other side to pick up a bowl and a cotton ball. You sit on the edge of the bed and dip the cotton into the antiseptic. You turn Dream’s head slowly to get a better look at the cut on his cheek. You drag the medicine over the gash and watch as Dream doesn’t flinch.

Once you are done, you place both of the things on the side table of the medical bay in the Falcons home stadium and look at Dream. He gives you a lazy smile and his fingers twitch against yours. “Thank you.”

You nod, eyes wide. “Of course, you know I’ll always be here to clean you up.”

Dream can feel his skin heating up. You get a concerned look on your face when you see the rise in pink on his cheeks. “Oh my god, are you heating up? Do you have a fever?”

He wants to laugh so badly. “Y/n, I’m okay. It’s not a fever. I’m blushing,” Dream says bashfully.

You realise why and then grow embarrassed. “Oh.”

The air isn’t tense, but there’s something there and you want to stick around to find out what it is.

Feedback is always appreciated xx

[omgrachwrites]

Her Prince - Prince Hal

Pairing: Reader x Prince Hal (The Hollow Crown)

Summary: The man that comes to visit you at your woodland cottage - the man that you’re falling in love with - is a mystery. When you discover what he’s hiding from you, it turns your whole world upside down.

Warnings: fluff, angst, ooc Hal probs, mentions of blood

Words: 2569

Disclaimer: So, I know that none of this would ever happen but I’m a hopeless romantic?? Characters will be ooc probably

A/N: I promise that I will be getting back to my usual fics but I had a really shitty day in work and I had to make my self feel better. The Hollow Crown was one of Tom’s superior looks! Hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think, I love you all! xxx

I've been living to see you Dying to see you, but it shouldn't be like this This was unexpected, what do I do now? Could we start again please?

---------------------------------------

The day was swelteringly hot and you were in front of your woodland cottage, tending to your herb garden. You were the best healer in the village and the townspeople ventured out of the safe confines of their stone walls to come and seek an audience with you in your forest cottage. As you were tending to the thorned plants, your hand slipped and you near enough sliced your hand open.

You gasped out into the silent air as thick scarlet blood blossomed on your palm but before you could do much about it, you heard the gallop of horse hooves in the distance, getting closer with every breath you took. Then, he called out to you and your heart fluttered with anticipation.

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” he beamed as his horse came to a stop.

You blushed as you looked at Hal’s handsome face, he was handsome enough to be a Prince with his honey brown curls and sparkling blue eyes, “hello, Hal,” you smiled as you sat on your little stone wall, your legs hanging over the edge, “it’s nice to see that you’re not half dead this time,” you laughed, recalling the first time you met him. He’d been injured and if you’d waited longer to heal him then he’d be dead.

Hal sighed, teasingly as he dismounted from his horse, “must you always mention that every time I come to visit you?”

You laughed as you reached a leg out to lightly kick at his knee, “of course, I’m never going to let you forget it,” you smiled and he rolled his eyes. By the look of his flushed cheeks, he’d been riding a long way today and you thought that he might care for some refreshment, “would you like some water? Or milk and honey, perhaps, to cool you down?”

Hal smiled and opened his mouth to reply but he hesitated when he caught sight of your slashed palm. He tutted and reached out for your hand, running his gentle fingers over the cut, “you’re hurt,” he lifted his concerned eyes to meet yours and you bit your lip as your eyes dropped down to his lips for a split second.

“It’s alright,” you breathed, “it’s just a cut from some thorns.”

“Here,” Hal smiled as he reached into his satchel bag and pulled out some fresh smelling cloth, “I don’t think that my healing skills are quite up to the level of yours, but I always keep some with me, just in case,” he chuckled and wrapped your hand in the bandage.

It was so courteous of him that you couldn’t help but stare at him, flustered and searching for something – anything – to say, “I’ll go and fetch you that glass of water,” you laughed nervously as you turned away, grimacing when his pleasant laughter followed you into the cool interior of your cottage. It was such a relief to be out of that heat, if only for a couple of minutes.

Quickly, you poured him a tankard of water before walking out into the scorching sun again.  Hal gave you a grateful smile as you handed him the water and he drained it in one swallow, gasping as he smacked his lips before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You had to fight back a giggle.

“By God, I needed that, thank you, Y/N,” he smiled as he sat beside you on the small wall, his leg pressed against yours. Your cheeks flushed at his close proximity.

Over the few months that he had been coming to see you, you had grown to care for him, in fact you were falling in love with him. You wondered who he really was, “have you got an outing planned for tonight? I know that you prefer to collect your ingredients at night,” it was so nice that he’d remembered.

You bit your lip nervously as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You could hardly tell him that you were going to the Royal Palace, Hal had already expressed his distaste for King Henry and the Prince of Wales, you didn’t want him to think any less of you. The King had heard of your skills and he’d invited you to court to speak to you about taking the post of physician when his current one retired. You were very grateful that word of your skills had reached the King’s ears.

“No, no outings tonight,” you felt your cheeks grow hot and the lie tasted bitter on your tongue.

Hal sat on your stone wall with you, keeping you company for a little while longer, and when he took his leave, you sent him off with raspberry tartlets which you had drizzled with honey and baked golden brown. For as long as you lived, you would never forget the way he smiled at you so sweetly as he cupped your cheek, before he brushed his lips against yours, as gentle as a whisper.

When he pulled back to look at your reaction, your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you were afraid that he’d heard it and you felt pleasant tingles all over your body. When he found no sign of hesitance – you would have to be a fool to reject him – he pulled you closer and kissed you deeper. You stood on your tiptoes to meet his kiss as you allowed your fingers to run through his curls as you kissed him in the peaceful little clearing. Long after Hal had left, your lips still tingled from the memory of his intoxicating kiss.

Later on that evening, you were being escorted down the never-ending hallways by a Palace guard – how people found their way around this castle, you had no idea – you were dressed finely for your audience with the King, a dress from green silk that you’d made yourself. You were so nervous and the guard must have sensed it because he gave you an encouraging smile.

“Everyone has is worrisome before meeting the King,” he chuckled, “the common folk prefer the Prince.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “they do? I have never met him; will he be at court today?” you asked with interest.

“I think not, he’s been in the tavern often, of late.”

You grimaced to yourself, spending time in the tavern was not wise for the future King but you kept your thoughts to yourself. As you entered the Throne Room and saw the old proud King on his Throne, you wanted to bolt out the way you came in but you forced yourself forwards until you were kneeling at his feet.

“Your Majesty, thank you for seeing me,” you kept your head bowed as was the custom.

“Please, rise my child,” with a small smile, you got to your feet and looked at the King, “Miss Y/N, I have heard great tales of your skills and accomplishments. I believe you’ve healed quite a few soldiers in my army?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, they often come by my cottage, it’s the quickest path to the castle.”

“Quite,” the King nodded, “I thank you for your service, my physician has grown old and his methods are not what they used to be. If you would, return three days from now and we can truly see what you can do.”

A slight sting of annoyance shot through your body but you would never let it show on your face, you would rather show him now but to argue with the King was to wish for death. Before you could accept, the door to the right of you opened and the King sighed as he shook his head, you were too nervous to see who it was.

“Finally, my son, you need to extend your apologies to our guest for being late.”

“My apologies,” a soft distracted voice came to the right of you, the King gave the Prince a sharp look and the Prince of Wales sighed as he walked in front of you, “please accept my apologies, my lady,” when he looked at you, his eyes faltered and his mouth opened in surprise.

Tears sprang to your eyes as you practically felt your heart crack as you stared at Hal – your Hal – he was the Prince? Words couldn’t describe how you felt but if you had to use one word, it would be ‘betrayed.’

Keeping your voice steady, you looked back at the King, “may I have your leave to go, Your Majesty.”

“Of course,” the King inclined his head.

As soon as the King replied, you bowed once more and escaped from the room as quickly as you could without actually running. You heard Hal say something to his father before you heard his quick footsteps follow you, “Y/N!” you shook your head and kept walking, refusing to look back at him, you wouldn’t let him see you cry, “please!” his voice broke and you couldn’t help yourself, you had to stop and look at him.

Well, you didn’t look at him, you kept your eyes on the floor, “Your Majesty,” you mumbled as you saw Hal’s feet walking closer to you.

You felt a warm gentle hand on your chin and you allowed yourself to look at his face, he looked so apologetic and his eyes almost looked wet, “we should talk.”

“As Your Majesty wishes.”

Hal looked sick as he rubbed his thumb against your cheek, “please don’t call me that, nothing’s changed between us.”

“Nothing’s changed?!” your sadness quickly turned to anger and you momentarily forgot where you were, “everything’s changed!  Why didn’t you tell me? By God!” you gasped as you slapped a hand to your forehead, “I’ve been rude to you! And you’re the crowned Prince! I kissed you!”

Hal bit his lip as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to treat me any differently, and technically, I kissed you,” he chuckled.

“Why?” you asked, holding back the tears, “why would you kiss me? Was it for something to laugh about with your noble friends,” your eyes went blurry as a wave of sadness washed over you.

“No, Y/N! Angel, no, I kissed you because I love you!”

Your heart stopped in your chest but it wasn’t from happiness, it was from overwhelming sadness, you would have longed to hear that just a few hours ago but now, you would rather that he didn’t say anything, “you can’t say that,” you shook your head as you backed away from him and Hal’s face fell, causing you to look away as you felt a stab of pain shoot through your heart.

“It doesn’t make it any less true,” he mumbled.

“I have to go,” you sighed as tears slid down your cheeks and ran over your lips, “goodbye, Your Highness,” walking away from him was the hardest thing you had ever done – especially when he was calling after you in that broken voice – but you had no other choice. He was the future King.

A year later, you were in your chambers at the palace, you hadn’t seen Hal since you had said goodbye to him. He’d been staying at his castle in Wales, though it wasn’t far away enough to make you forget about him. It was a particularly rainy day when your apprentice came bursting through the door with a shocked look on his face.

“Y/N! Y/N! Have you heard the news?” he was out of breath from running and it made you laugh.

“Calm down! What news?”

“The Prince is back, he’s in the tavern in the village, the word is that he’s abdicated the Throne for a peasant girl.”

You were so shocked that you dropped the empty beaker you were holding, letting it shatter across the ground, “are you,” you cleared your throat as you tried to gather your thoughts, “are you sure?” when Arthur nodded, you gulped and looked at him nervously. He’d probably abdicated the Throne for a pretty girl that he’d met in Wales but he used to love you and there was a sliver of hope in your chest, you had to go and see for yourself, “can you keep an eye on things here?”

“Yes, but where are you going?” Arthur frowned at you as you grabbed your cloak but you shook your head without another word.

Your riding had got much better while you were staying at the castle and you got to the tavern in a surprisingly short amount of time. You hoped that Hal was still here. As you opened the door to the warm tavern a hushed silence fell over the patrons as they stared at the newcomer. You didn’t have to search far for Hal because he was in the middle of everyone with a pretty blonde woman perched on his lap. His eyes widened as he looked at you, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed. Hal had seemed to become even more beautiful in the year that he’d been away. He looked like an angel.

The woman sneered at you and you realised that he hadn’t abdicated the Throne for you at all, you were such a fool. Offering Hal, a sad smile with tears sparkling in your eyes, you turned to leave, walking out into the cold evening air again. You had barely mounted your horse before you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist from behind and a warm hand came to brush your tears away.

“Why are you crying petal?” he whispered.

You could feel the fissure in your heart widen and your knees almost buckled at the sound of his soft voice, “because you’re you a fool,” you sniffled as you turned to face him, “abdicating the Throne for that woman.”

Hal let out a surprised laugh as he shook his head, “I haven’t abdicated the Throne for her,” he jabbed his thumb in the direction of the tavern, “I’ve abdicated it for you.”

Your heart soared as you gasped, searching his face for any deceit, instead you found nothing but love, “me? Why?”

Hal grinned as he cupped your cheek, “isn’t it clear my dear? Because I love you, I would rather give up my future rule than lose you.”

Tears sprang to your eyes again but for a completely different reason and you rested your hands against Hal’s firm chest, “was your father angry?” you couldn’t believe that this brave handsome man had given up everything for you.

“Furious,” Hal rolled his eyes, “but I don’t want to live without you, I love you, Y/N. I would like nothing more than to live the rest of my days with you by my side.”

You smiled as your fingers curled through his hair as you gazed up at him, “I love you too,” you pulled him into a passionate kiss and at the first touch of his lips, you gasped, it felt like coming home, “I’m going to have to find a new post,” you laughed, you couldn’t go back to the palace now.

Hal only chuckled as he pulled you in for another kiss, for the first time in your life you had no idea what was coming next. However, you couldn’t find it in your heart to care, you had your Prince and that was all that mattered.

--------------------------

@smiithys​

[dragongirldg]

Something something political set up by HIC.

HIC wanted to give June a Kismesis, and since she knew an associate relatively close to June’s age, she thought about profits of a political relationship.

It kind of worked, but not really the way she thought.

Somehow instead of black rom, it was red!

Caliborn came over to live with June, but she managed to keep him from moving in. So, to get revenge for this (and honestly kind of thinks she flirting with him) he decided to insert himself into her life anyways.

He somehow disguised himself as a human with a fake name, Caleb, and pretended to be a nice and friendly guy.

They now have to delicately balance this secret and play “nice” in front of everyone, as far as they know- they have no reason to beef. (They sound nice, but really it’s backhanded insults).

Now, not everyone know about aliens and most are hiding among the humans.

Karkat and a few nosy busybodies tended to make little mistakes here and there that almost reveal themselves because they can sense the tension far better than the humans can.

Prime example is June and her blatant flirting with Terezi while “Caleb” is right there. Jealous, “Caleb” always pulls June’s attention a way from her and getting a different and stronger reaction from June.

Karkat is the most at risk of outing himself because he makes June question him. He can’t help himself- the signs are all there! Their spades are a bit more red than he expected, but he could work with that! He could set them up for a confession. If June would admit to having something for “Caleb”.

They’re practically dating without actually dating already!

Which leads to the middle of the story.

After Karkat insisting that they are interested in each other aggressively to June, she was getting to the boiling point of her stress and it didn’t help that “Caleb” showed to give her a slight verbal nudge- she acted more defensively and he noticed.

“Caleb” backed off since June wasn’t being herself and watched her storm away with worry. To show that worry, he went over to her house that night to annoy the truth out of her.

Instead of the truth, he got an impromptu make out in the kitchen. He was confused as fxxk but tried not to say anything because she looked so angry that he might get another one. (In more frequent intervals.)

With a glare in her eyes, she struck up a deal with him. Intrigued with this new rule in their game, he asked what the deal entailed.

“You like my baking right?”, she hissed at him calmly.

“It’s not terrible- quite decent compared to your friends.”, he said.

“Then, in exchange for a plate of cookies will you quit involving my friends? They have nothing to do with this! They suspect you of something and I’m sure you don’t want this twisted game of yours to end.”, she snapped.

He pretended to ponder this deal when it was completely in his favor. He’s been meaning to get more intimate and personal with her; he is also getting a whole plate of cookies from her, and she never said to stop courting her altogether.

“Well, that sounds quite tempting! However, what makes you think I’m the one getting them involved? Your dumbaxx friends like to stick their noses where they don’t belong.”, he sneered.

“Between you and me.”, he left unsaid.

She did not pick up on that and huffed as she pulled him by his collar closer to her. He held her against the table she was pinned to, to look into her hateful eyes.

“I want nothing more than for you to drop dead, but as it stands I have no choice but to keep you in sight at all times. I trust my friends, but I don’t trust you.”, she growled out.

She stare became less heated and her shoulders dropped as she leaned back. She examined him for a moment; he felt her eyes burning his neck. She flushed when she felt his eyes burn her bleeding lips.

His fangs pricked her lips when they kissed and became as red as her cheeks in contrast to her pale skin.

She pouted and scrunched her face in thought. She played with his collar.

“I want an answer.”, she finally said, unable to wait.

He laughed as he snuggled close to her; the purring of his chest eased her into embracing him with a turn of her head and closed eyes.

“Sure, we work on the details later. But for now…”, he trailed off as he nipped her neck.

She tensed for a moment, before relaxing.

“Let’s go back to where we left off~”, he murmured.

They kissed again as June relented.

The rest of the story goes that June expertly hid her distant for “Caleb” from most of the humans and even some of the aliens, but being nice to each other doesn’t go well.

June pretending to be friends with “Caleb” led to them thinking more strongly that June was crushing on “Caleb” hard. The aliens could see that “Caleb” was crushing on June just as hard. They all groan in agony at the absurdity of it all.

June was always touching “Caleb” in some way, her hands never leaving him. “Caleb” was also staring and talking about June without end. He had nothing but nice things to say about her even when they were suppose to be negative.

Eventually June got caught up in the act and made the dumb decision to hand him the cookies when people were looking at them. The pressure from the question made her a flighty broad.

She couldn’t take it any more and gave up the act to say what she really thinks about him. Both sides, humans and aliens heard how hard she went off about him. She didn’t even notice how her words changed.

Her face flushed and a dopey smile curls up as her demeanor changed. She went from ragging on him to thinking he a little attractive to babbling about things she wished would happen. All of her compliments were backhanded (reverse of backhanded insults).

Through it all, no one said a dxmn thing because he walked in to the tirade half way in and simply leaned against the wall crossed arms to listen.

When it’s revealed that he was there, her face froze into her default smile as she looked a round the room. She began to legitimately cry, freaking them all the Fxck out.

Unable to handle her own feelings, she punched him in the gut before running off to her grandmother’s house (an actual castle).

Well Fxck, cats out of the bag.

Aliens are real and the majority of June’s family are alien royalty. She a motherfing princess.

So she wasn’t surprised aliens are real, that “Caleb” was one or that all of her friends that gave massive hints were any either.

Double Fxck, HIC changed her mind about political relationships.

“Ah Fxck, my B. I should have thought this through.”, said June from the rooftop as she was nested into HICs hair.

—————

End

Bye!

[tinyboxxtink]

"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 2*

Part 1

Part 3

Y'all IDK what it is about this story but I can just write and write and write. This one ended up being 11 pages [on a google doc] And I only stopped because it's 2:15 am.

I hope you guys like this, but I just want to clarify: This isn't a Barisi fic. I'm sorry, if you're looking for that, just...this isn't it. I mean they do interact and it'll be fun, but they will not be ending up together.

That being said, enjoy this new chapter! I'm debating on how pathetic enamored Sonny is, I don't think I'm gonna go that deep. No worries, people.

As always let me know if you want to be added/deleted off the tag list!! <3

Tag List

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@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

-------

"Y/N, I'm so happy for you and Barba. You make the cutest couple," Sonny beamed at you while you were wrapped in Rafael's arms, huge smiles on all of your faces.

"Thank you Sonny, that means so much." You gave him a warm hug.

"Yeah….and you'll make the cutest couple in HELL!" All of a sudden Sonny pushed both you and Rafael off a cliff.

You were falling to your death when you woke up to your professor glaring at you.

"Have a nice nap, Miss Y/N?" He scowled at you.

"Um," You cleared your throat and straightened up at your desk. "Yes sir,"

"Good," he huffed as he headed to the front of the classroom once more. "Maybe now we can continue without your snoring,"

You heard the students around you snicker at his comments as You sunk lower into your desk and waited for class to end. It had been a long train ride home and then a drive to your apartment last night, you hadn't gotten home until around 2 am and had this 8 am class. As soon as the professor dismissed your class you booked it out of the class and out into the parking lot of your community college.

"Ugh, could this day get any--" before you could even finish your thought you got your answer. Your phone beeped with a text from Rafael:

RAFA: Hey killer, how's the bullshit county? 😉

That was the nice thing, then just as you were about to text him back your phone lit up.

SONNY BOI CALLING

"Shit!" You hissed to no one. "How does he know?!"

"Ahem….Heyyy, cuz," You answered it with your best nonchalant voice. That of course sounded totally chalant.

"Hey sunshine," His voice sounded relaxed, thank God.

"What's up?" You tried keeping your tone light as you neared your car.

"Well y'know I was just thinkin, I feel real bad about standing you up last night,"

"Oh, Son it's no big deal really," the fact that he felt guilty about anything made you feel even more guilty.

"No, I know you have a busy schedule and it takes a lot to get into the City and I just blew you off," He kept on with the guilt train.

"You didn't blow me off Son you had work. I get that--" You unlocked your car and got in, starting it so your windows would thaw. And your whole body.

"Well I wanna make it up to you," He cut you off.

"Oh?" your voice fell short. This couldn't be good.

"Yeah, my boss-- well he's not really My boss but Mr. Barba--"

Oh shit. Barba? Was Barba having a party? Why wouldn't He tell you that? Wait why WOULD he tell you that? Stupid. Wait, what was Sonny saying?

".... birthday, so you could be like my date," you caught the tail end of his invite.

"Birthday?" You repeated like a parrot. It was Barba's birthday? Oh god. You were really trying not to focus on how old he was. Don't ask. For the love of god don't say it Sonny.

"Yeah don't worry you don't need to get him anything, I got it covered," Sonny assured you.

Well, that was one way you could figure out just how much your cousin cared about his "idol". The more expensive the gift, the stronger the feelings were. You wondered whether you should ask him now or wait for the surprise. Maybe you should ask now, then his answer should tell you what you'd be getting into.

*So what did you get this 'non boss' of yours?" You asked slyly.

"Oh," now Sonny's voice dropped. "Well I, I don't wanna say,"

Fuck.

Don't panic. Do not panic.

"Oh come on Sonny," you did your best to keep a joking tone. "What am I gonna do, tell him?"

Should you joke about it? Hidden in plain sight, right?

"No I guess not, it's not like you know him,"

Whew.

"It's just kinda embarrassing…."

Oh god.

"O-Oh?" You tried to stay calm. "Why's that? Is it a gag gift?"

Please be a gag gift.

"Actually it's a new briefcase," He replied.

"Oh why is that embarrassing you goof?” You gave him a hard time. What was that in the emotional baggage department? Pun intended.

"I mean, it's more expensive than the one I own," You could hear the shrug in his voice.

Fuck. Don't ask why. Don't ask. But if you don't ask, that will be even more suspicious wouldn't it?

"Oh Son," You asked softly. "Why would you do that?"

"Well the one he has is as old as dirt, I think it's probably the first one he ever bought. I wanted him to look snazzy in court." He replied with a super eager tone.

"That's sweet," you were pounding your steering wheel in frustration. Say it.

"Seems like a lot of work for a mentor though," You closed your eyes mentally killing yourself.

"Yeah well," he laughed uncomfortably.

Say it.

"Sonny…” You didn’t want to do this.

“Yeah?” He was oblivious.

“You know you can always talk to me,”

“Yeah of course,” He assured you.

“About anything,” You scrunched your nose.

“Yeah I know, sunshine,” He half laughed.

“ANYTHING,” You reiterated

There was a long awkward pause.

“...Sonny?” You made sure he hadn’t hung up on you.

“Yeah, I'm here,” He replied softly.

“So?” You waited for the bomb to drop.

So…. He sighed. "I just want him to like me,"

Dammit.

"....Yeah," You nodded, cursing yourself.

"Yeah, its stupid. I'm stupid." He laughed again.

“You're not stupid,” you laid your head on the steering wheel in shame.” I mean the heart wants what it wants right?”

“What?! Oh my god, Y/N,” He scoffed. “I'm not gay,”

“….Sonny it's 2021,” you shook your head. “Sexuality is a spectrum,”

Right well. He laughed defensively. "I'm on the p in the v scale,"

“Ugh, Sonny,” you made a face.

“Sorry sunshine,” He apologized. “I just...why would you even think that?!”

“Uh…” You paused.

Maybe he wasn't fully aware that he had romantic feelings for Rafael. If you started pointing out the signs, he might realize it. But then you'd have a cousin going through gay panic AND then finding out it doesn't matter anyway.

"No reason," You lied.

"I just want him to like him so he'll give me a good recommendation once I graduate Fordham Law,"

"Oh" you smacked your head. "Duh. Right. Of course,"

That was completely legitimate. Maybe you had been misreading this whole thing. Now you just had the whole overprotective Gotti side of Sonny to worry about.

"Well I guess I could spend the weekend in the city," You shrugged as you pulled out of the parking lot.

“Absolutely!” He exclaimed. “My couch is always open,”

Not exactly where you were thinking of sleeping, but you weren't blowing your cover over the phone. Wait, maybe you should. Then he couldn't kill you over the phone. Wait, he's presumably at work right now. You didn't know how closely he worked with Barba, but you figured it would be a hell of a lot easier for Sonny to get to him before you could stop him from killing Rafael.

"Sure sounds good. I'll see you then cuz,” You smiled and hung up the phone.

------

Friday arrived, and you once again found yourself standing outside Forlini's. You debated heavily whether to go in or not, but you told yourself you were going to wait for Sonny outside this time, no more risking a sexy bar rendezvous.

You hadn’t really responded to Rafael’s texts the last few days, and you certainly didn’t tell him you were coming. Maybe you should have told him. You grabbed your phone to text him when you heard a familiar voice behind you:

“Y/N?”

You spun around to see Rafael dressed to the 9’s, smiling at you. He smelled delicious, mixed with the food aroma wafting out of the restaurant and the smell of freshly fallen snow in New York City.

“...Happy Birthday, Counselor,” You bit your lip nervously.

“W-What are you doing here?” He stared at you as if he thought he was dreaming.

“Sonny invited me,” You nervously smiled.

“Seriously?” He laughed.

“Seriously,” You nodded with a laugh as well.

“Did-- did you say anything to him?” He asked you worriedly.

“Are you insane?!” You hit him. “No!”

“So why did he invite you here?” He asked.

“He said it was to make up for ditching me the other night,” You shrugged.

“...The irony,” He smirked.

“Mmm,” You nodded with an amused smile.

“Well this is a very happy birthday indeed,” He smiled, pulling you closer into his coat similar to the night you had met.

“....Just don’t ask which one it is,” He warned you while staring at your lips deviously.

“Deal,” You nodded in agreement before he pulled you into a hungry kiss.

“DUDE!!” You snapped back before his lips were on yours for more than a millisecond. “Are you nuts?! Sonny’s gonna be here any second!”

“It’s my birthday, carino,” He made a pouty face. “Don’t yell at me,”

“Oh lord,” You rolled your eyes. “Alright, man child,”

He was about to go for another sneaky kiss when you both heard a voice from behind you.

“....Sunshine?”

“Oh!” You jumped ten feet away from Rafael when you turned to see Sonny standing there with a huge gift bag, staring slack jawed at the two of you. “Sonny! I um, we--”

“I was teaching your cousin a lesson in New York safety,” Rafael talked over you, his face completely stone. God he was a good liar.

“Excuse me, counselor?” Sonny raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. You just stared in speechlessness.

“She was standing on this curb holding her bag out for any miscreant on these streets to just wrestle away from her, I was just demonstrating how,” He gestured to your open purse.

“Barba I really think this ain’t that kinda neighborhood,” Sonny half laughed.

“...You never know,” Rafael shrugged. “Now let’s all get inside, I’m sure everyone is anxious to start celebrating me,”

You and Sonny both rolled your eyes with smiles; too similar of smiles, you noticed. Thankfully, he did not. You both followed Rafael back to a private room where a bunch of fancy dressed people were mingling with drinks in their hands while two long empty tables stood in the middle of the room. They all stopped and clapped when Rafael walked in.

“Oh, for me?” He feigned surprise and humility.

“Yeah right Barba,” A woman laughed sarcastically. “You’re the one who invited us here,”

“Touche, Rita,” Rafael smirked as he began making the rounds around the table greeting everyone.

“So are we allowed to eat now, I’m starving,” An older man asked.

“And I’ve got a son waiting,” A red headed woman chimed in.

“Right, right,” Rafael nodded as people began to take seats. “Sorry everyone, you know I love to make a dramatic entrance,”

“Oh trust me we know, Barba,” Another man called. “Your catwalks into the courtroom prove that. I think we have a montage of them,”

“Ha Ha,” Rafael rolled his eyes, then turned to you and Sonny.

“Sonny,” He put a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you sit next to me?”

“R-Really, counselor?” You saw Sonny’s eyes light up like Christmas tree lights.

Fuck. You knew he was only asking him so that you would sit next to him as well. And while you loved the idea, you knew how much this was toying with Sonny’s feelings.

“A-Are you sure, about that Mr. Barba?” You gave him a look.

“Absolutely, Miss-- I didn’t catch your name?” He played it so cool.

“Y/N,” You held out your hand as you re-introduced yourself.

“Right, well--” He shook your hand then turned his attention to Sonny who was still beaming like a kid on Christmas. “I don’t know how much Carisi has told you, but he is quite the promising mentee of mine,”

“....R-Really, Rafael?” Sonny blinked in disbelief, causing Rafael’s smile to falter for a moment. Sonny had never called him “Rafael” before, it was always “Barba”. Shit, maybe he had given him too much praise.

“I mean, you know, for a lap dog,” He quickly added with a snarky tone and a smirk.

“Mr. Barba!” You tried not to raise your voice at the birthday boy. “That is my cousin you’re talking ab---”

“No, no it’s fine Y/N-- th-that’s how we work isn’t it, counselor? He just gives me jabs, I know he doesn’t mean it,” Sonny laughed nervously, staring at the floor. He knew not to get too comfortable with Barba, why did he even try it?

“Indeed,” Rafael nodded in agreement. “But, I still request you sit by me-- at least I know you don't poison my food. Which is more than I can say for many of my esteemed ‘guests’,” He eyed the tables of people before him.

“Then why invite them to your party?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“I get that Jersey doesn’t have the social classes of Manhattan, Miss Y/N,” He smirked. “But here, you’ve got to do things to keep up appearances,”

“Oh do you?” You practically growled.

“Yes,” He nodded while a waiter brought him a glass of scotch. “Even if you don’t like someone, if they serve a purpose for you than you do what you must to keep in their good graces,”

“Oh is that so? So you’re only kind to people who can ‘serve’ you?” You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at him.

What kind of Danny Zuko bullshit was this?! This was an entirely different Rafael Barba you had met the other night. He was kind, flirty, endearing. This new Barba was snarky and condescending, and you were not amused at all.

“Y/N, chill,” Sonny hissed at you. “This is just how Barba is, he’s harmless,”

“Yeah well you might not mind being his doormat Sonny, but I sure as hell won’t be,” You angrily stomped off.

“Oh my god,” Sonny muttered, wondering if he should run after you or not. “Barba, I am so so sorry about her,”

“It’s fine, Carisi,” He watched you stomping away, trying to hide the guilt in his voice. He was just trying his best to throw Sonny off the trail. He may have overcompensated just a tad.

“I-I should go check on her, She’s just a kid--”

“No, allow me,” Rafael put a hand to Sonny’s chest. “It was my faux paux, I should apologize to her myself. I was being a bit of an ass,”

“Yeah but that’s just you, Barba,” Sonny chuckled, trying not to blush at Rafael’s hand on his chest.

“True, but I forget not everyone knows me as well as you do, Carisi,” And now he was trying to be extra nice to Sonny to get on his good side, while cluelessly egging on his feelings.

“That is very true,” Sonny laughed even more nervously. “I’ll uh, I’ll take a seat and get our drinks ordered,”

“Excellent,” Rafael smiled at him, probably one of five times in the entire time they’d known each other. He gave Sonny one more pat on the back before walking after where you had stomped off to.

He found you right before you hit the front door, his hand catching yours before it could grab the handle. You turned and scoffed at him, your scowl still present after stomping off.

“Oh, come to appease me, counselor? How can I be of service to you?” You snapped.

“Please, Y/N,” He gave you apologetic eyes as he pulled you closer to him. “I’m sorry, I just-- I didn’t want Carisi to think anything was off. He already caught us being handsy, I had to make it look like we disliked each other,” He explained.

“Oh I think you’ve done that above and beyond, jackass,” You huffed. “First I’m too stupid to not get robbed in the city, and then I’m too uncultured to understand ‘high society’ manipulative bullshit?”

“I’m sorry, I may have gone a little over--” He started.

“But that wasn’t even an act, was it?” You interjected angrily.

“What do you mean?” He asked you curiously.

“Your line of you having ‘use’ of a person? I assume that is why you have a room full of powerful people you dislike as opposed to a room full of sycophants?” Yeah, you might just go to community college but you knew big words too.

“I mean, that is how it works--”

“Jesus Christ,” You shook your head with a laugh. “You know I understood for about half a second why my cousin is so infatuated by you, but I am losing that belief real quick,” You turned and started to walk away again.

“Y/N come on,” He grabbed both of your arms this time and pulled you close into him, your noses almost touching.

“Look I’m-- I’m sorry, that I’m---this,” He gestured to himself.

“But that’s just how I have to be in their world,” He gestured back towards the room. “I’m telling you, it’s a room full of sharks. If I show weakness or misstep in decorum, I’m nothing but chum to those people,”

“The guy you met the other night, that’s the real me,” He put a hand to your cheek. “I never get to be that guy, not in public. That’s why I was so attracted to you,” He put his other hand on your waist.

“I don’t have to be ‘Rafael Barba, the snarky ADA with a silver tongue,’ I can just be…’Rafa’,” He gave you an earnestly sad smile.

“I’m sorry,” You blinked in confusion. “I know I’m not helping myself but what exactly is the ‘ADA’?”

Your question brought that familiar amused grin and a laugh. “See, this is what I’m talking about,”

“Oh yeah I know, the ignorant girl you can placate--”

“No,” He put a finger on your lips. “The earnest, normal, gorgeous girl,” He kissed your forehead. “I’m sure if we took a poll in here right now the majority of the room would be with you, not knowing what an ADA is,”

“Which still doesn’t answer the question,” You pointed out.

“I…” He tried to think of a way to explain his role in the Manhattan judicial system. “Well, the DA of the county is like-- the King of Lawyers in that section. Or queen, as my boss is Rita,” He shook his head with a laugh. Oh Rita Calhoun, the stories he could tell about her.

“So, you’re her king?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Eh, I’d say Prince but she’d probably say Jester if she heard this metaphor to be honest with you,”

“Mmm I like that,” You finally let yourself smile at him.

“A Prince?” He grinned.

“The Jester,” You gave him a tongued smile, settling against his chest.

“Well, I’ll gladly take that title if it makes you happy,” He kissed your forehead. “I’d do anything to make you happy right now,”

You looked into his green eyes, they were now their usual sparkling green hue, and you remembered very quickly how you had gotten yourself in this mess in the first place. He really was a sweet, charming, gorgeous guy. And then you remembered those were probably all the reasons Sonny fell for him too.

“Ahem.” You straightened up and stepped out of his grasp. “Well, what would make me happy right now is getting back to my cousin,”

“Oh,” Rafael’s eyes softened into a sad gaze.

“Rafael, I think he really likes you,” You bit your lip with guilt. “And you toying with him just now isn’t helping!”

“Toying with him?” Rafael’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion? “I wasn’t toying with--”

“Sit by me, Carisi? You’re important to me, Carisi?” You imitated his questions in a mocking tone.

“I had to ask him that so you would--” He started to explain, but you already knew.

“I know!” You stopped him. “I know, that’s why it’s so fucked!” You put your hands over your face.

“Carino…” Rafael walked over and pulled your hands from your face and held them.

“I’m hurting him every second that I stand here with you, and I--” You bit your lip trying not to cry. “I’m still doing it! I can’t walk away!”

“So don’t,” He squeezed your hands with an even sadder look.

“This is just--” You broke free from his grasp once again and wiped your eyelids. “We need to get back before Sonny comes after you,”

“....So where does this conversation leave us, then?” He asked you cautiously.

“I don’t…” You gazed into his puppy dog emerald eyes. “I don’t know, I don’t want to think about it right now, okay?”

“Fair enough,” He put his hands down in concession. “...But we really need to--”

“Yeah, I know,” You nodded softly as you walked back to the private room, Rafael trailing behind you.

All you could think on the way back was how in God’s name were you going to make it through the rest of the night.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Subtext, by Calvin Klein

happy birthday @stinastar!!! I know it’s not the prompt you wanted, but I’ll write that too. :) Thank you so much for being awesome and so so sweet!

Legally Blonde au - modern - fluffy pre-getting together

depending on the comments I get on this, I might post a second part

tw: Geralt’s tragic backstory (foster care mention)

---

Geralt approached Jaskier slowly and kept his hands firmly in the pockets of his loose-fitting jeans. “What’s up-” he noticed the bunny ears poking up from Jaskier’s fluffy brown hair and added “-doc?”

The young law student looked up at Geralt through teary black lashes and let out another soft sniffle, his lips wobbling unattractively. Geralt hurried to drape his zip-up hoodie over Jaskier’s bare shoulders and take a seat on the wooden bench beside him. 

The worried teacher’s assistant rubbed his hands up and down Jaskier’s arms through the material, trying to warm him up a little better. “Why are you dressed as a Playboy bunny, sitting on a bench in the middle of the night in this terrible New England weather?”

“I made a terrible mistake in coming here.”

“What?”

Geralt had never heard Jaskier sound so utterly defeated. Usually the student was bright and bubbly, congenial to a fault even when he made mistakes or answered incorrectly during class discussions. The charming brunette seemed to pull bucket after bucket from a nearly endless well of positivity; until now, apparently. 

As he sat beside Geralt on the worn wooden bench, wearing the tight pink leotard and little wrist cuffs, practically glowing in the yellow-tinged lamplight, he seemed too ethereal to be real. Even as he shivered and sniffled, Jaskier looked too gorgeous to be human. Seeing him in such a distressed state was a little unnerving, like bumping into an old teacher outside of school or accidentally seeing your neighbors kissing through a window. It felt wrong. 

“I followed the love of my life to this stupid fucking university and now he’s going to marry some fancy, well-bred blonde woman like his parents wanted and I’m going to flunk out of these classes with nothing to show for my time here and my parents are going to-”

“Hey,” Geralt interrupted, taking one hand from his pocket to place on Jaskier’s trembling knee. “It’s going to be okay. Breathe, Jaskier.”

“Right. Breathing. Yeah.”

“Are you… okay?” 

Jaskier looked at him again and Geralt flinched away from the obvious hurt in his watery blue eyes. Of course he’s not okay, he’s sobbing alone on a cold bench in the middle of Halloween night. 

“Jaskier, I’m sorry. I’m not good with words but- Wait... are you saying you came to school because of a man?” 

“Y-Yeah. You could put it that way, I guess.”

Geralt yanked his hand away from the younger man’s knee and scooted backwards, away from the man he’d just been admiring. “Oh my god, that has to be the absolute stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You came all the way to Oxenfurt University’s prestigious and award-winning Law School to hunt down a husband?!”

Jaskier looks taken aback. Startled and bewildered and sad, like a much smaller child rather than an adult man with a degree and a half. “Are you mad at me!?”

“A little bit, yeah,” Geralt laughed humorlessly. He shook his head, swiping one hand over his face on his way to tuck in a stray strand of white hair. “I worked two jobs to get myself through college. I was doing full-time classes and pulling sixty hour weeks at the bar and the grocery store; I don’t think I’ve had a full night’s sleep since I graduated high school. I certainly don’t know the meaning of the word vacation anymore... and you came here to follow some- some guy that you liked?”

“We’d been together for three years before he suddenly dropped me to pursue a degree in fucking bitter looking women, to be completely fair. And I managed to get a good enough LSAT score to qualify for admittance, so it’s not like I’m totally incompetent.”

“No,” Geralt nodded, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I guess that’s true.”

“No guessing involved,” Jaskier spat, tired and angry and flustered. “It is the truth, plain and simple. I deserve to be here and I will be successful.”

“Hmm.” 

“Well why are you here, then, Mr. Grouchy T.A.?”

“I grew up in foster care and let me tell you, from experience, that the system is shit. If I had been forced to remain a foster child for any longer than I was, I probably would have become a match-happy little delinquent like my youngest brother, Lambert. Luckily my third foster parent, Vesemir, adopted me legally and made me his son. He already had one adopted son, my older brother, Eskel, and after me there was Lambert.”

Jaskier took a moment to contemplate Geralt’s story, pulling the sweatshirt closer around his shoulders and burrowing down into the neckline in a way that sent butterflies swirling through Geralt’s stomach rather unexpectedly. Then the younger man smiled at him, pearly teeth glinting in the light of the streetlamp. “That’s… that’s a little sad and a little sweet. It makes sense.”

“What makes sense?”

“The sadness and the sweetness,” Jaskier repeated, grinning a little more shyly than before. Geralt wasn’t sure, since it was so dark and he was so skeptical, but it almost looked like Jaskier was blushing. “Like you. Sweet, kind, caring, but a little melancholy. Anyway, I should be getting back to my dorm. I need to study.”

“I want my sweatshirt back,” Geralt said, standing and offering Jaskier a hand up. He wobbled to his feet, still wearing a pair of dangerously high black stilettos. Geralt knew this outfit would haunt his dreams for the next few weeks and cursed Hugh Heffner’s lingering spirit. 

“If you’re lucky,” Jaskier replied, and click-click-clicked his way into the darkness. 

Geralt honestly wasn’t sure he’d mind if Jaskier decided to keep it… maybe someday he’d wear it to class. And didn’t the thought of that send something odd and new and terrifying swirling in Geralt’s gut.

---

“Where are we going, exactly?” Geralt asked, eyeing the giddy brunette before him. Jaskier batted his long eyelashes at the grumpy T.A. and gave his sweetest pout.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“Hmm,” Geralt’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

“Well then don’t stop now!” 

The excitable young law student laced his fingers with Geralt’s and pulled him through the large glass doors and into the mall. When at last his eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the shopping center he asked: “What is this place?”

Jaskier grinned, taking a deep, dramatic breath. “A department store.”

Geralt rolled his eyes and took his own deep breath, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “What is that smell?”

“Love,” Jaskier replied.

“What!?”

“Love,” the student repeated, pointing at a sign with his free hand. It was large and pink and read LOVE, BY CHANEL in black block-letters. “There’s Love in the air.”

“Terrible joke, really,” Geralt teased. “But really, Jaskier, why are we here? You have plenty of clothes for court; I know because I’ve been in your closet and seen them firsthand.”

“We’re not here for me,” Jaskier elbowed his mentor and study partner gently in the side. Their hands were still interlaced in a way that made Geralt’s heart thunder dangerously against his ribs; love really was in the air, it seemed. Jaskier continued breezily, unaware of the older man’s roiling internal conflict. “I’m taking you shopping so that you have the proper outfit to wear when accepting Stregobor’s partnership offer.”

They had reached the men’s business section and the brunette released Geralt’s hand in order to dig through the racks of clothing. He was elbow deep in Calvin Klein and Kenneth Cole, hunting for jackets in Geralt’s size. “Jaskier, I can’t afford this kind of-”

“Hush,” Jaskier replied, waving his hand dismissively in his direction, letting it go limp at the wrist. “It’s a gift. No! Not a gift, a repayment.”

“I didn’t give you anything…” 

Jaskier looked up from the selection of suits he’d been inspecting and shot Geralt a dangerous glare. “You most certainly did give me something, Geralt Roger Eric du-Haute Bellegarde! You looked past my bubbliness and my pink blazer and my previous degree and treated me like a person. You supported me and encouraged me without asking for anything in return so this is what I’m giving you.”

Geralt took a step towards him and sneezed. “What is that smell?”

An attendant appeared as if from thin air, a little glass bottle clutched in her hand. “It’s Subtext, by Calvin Klein!”

“It’s not really my thing,” Geralt frowned, closing the distance between himeslf and Jaskier as he made his apologies, “But thank you, regardless.”

“Let me know if you gentlemen need anything!”

Geralt stepped close enough to feel the heat of Jaskier’s body, still not brave enough to initiate touch. “Thank you.”

“It’s not a problem,” Jaskier grinned again. 

Geralt considered the feelings that were stirring in his heart, driving through his veins, branching out through his mind so that all he could focus on was Jaskier... 

It might be a problem, he thought, allowing himself to enjoy the moment. But it can be dealt with another time. 

[bbrandy2002]

Fearless

Chapter 4: See the Lights, See the Party, the Ball Gowns

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing: Prince/King Liam x MC (Riley Brooks), Drake Walker x OC (Alyssa Devereaux)

Series Premise: Riley Brooks and Alyssa Devereaux became best friends as freshmen at Syracuse University, a borderline-sisterhood that lasts forever after. When Riley meets a handsome prince and is asked to compete for his hand in a mysterious faraway kingdom, she invites Alyssa along for moral support.

What the girls think will be a crazy temporary adventure becomes two sets of happily ever afters … with twice the shenanigans to show for it.

A/N: This series is written in loving collaboration between @bbrandy2002 and @burnsoslow​.

Series Warnings: Smut 🍋🍋, language, canon violence (gun violence, bombing, terrorism), drug use, probably more stuff as we think of it. By reading this series, you agree that you are at least 18 years old and are prepared to deal with adult themes.

The girls spent their first morning in Cordonia with their respective sponsors, getting the first glimpses of courtly life and preparing for the Masquerade Ball taking place that evening. As much as they wanted to get out and experience all that this little Mediterranean country had to offer, there was just so much to do and little time to do it. 

That morning, while Alyssa worked diligently on learning the steps of the Cordonian Waltz and etiquette with Rashad, Maxwell finally got Riley out of bed in time for a late breakfast. This included meeting his brother, Bertrand, who was none too thrilled with the former waitress from New York. Riley discovered rather quickly that the duke was nothing like the free-spirited Maxwell; if ever there was a picture display of a killjoy, she was sure his scowling face would be plastered dead in the center.  

The day kind of went by in a dizzying blur, especially for Riley, who spent most of it either being lectured by Bertrand, or raiding the kitchen for stress snacks with Maxwell. And as far as anyone knew, Liam was still unaware that the quirky, raven-haired beauty he’d met two nights ago and never expected to see again was in his country, in his palace, and was about to come face-to-face with him.

If she didn’t die of anxiety first. 

Neither of the girls saw each other until much later that afternoon when they linked up in Riley’s room before heading to the palace's salon for last-minute hair and nail appointments. 

Later on in the boutique, Riley sucked in a deep breath and held in her stomach while Alyssa stood behind her, fighting to zip the back of the angel-themed costume she chose for the Masquerade Ball. 

Actually, "chose" was a loose description in this case. The ensemble was one of the last two dresses in the palace's boutique, and Maxwell insisted Riley wear it instead of the more provocative red devil attire to make herself more appealing to the King and Queen. The Beaumont sponsee didn’t give two shits at that moment about impressing the monarchs; her major concern was how she would fit that size-four dress over her size-six body. 

“What the hell did you eat, Ri? This zipper is not budging an inch," an out-of-breath Alyssa groaned as she attempted to pull the tight fabric closer together.  

Steadying her feet firmly to the ground, a jostled-around Riley answered quietly, in a still manner, so as not to undo what little progress her friend had already made, "You know I'm a stress eater. I've experienced many emotions since we left yesterday, and food therapy helps. And your judgment is making me hungry again, so thank you for making it worse."

"I'm not judging you; I'm simply stating a fact: Your ass won’t fit in this dress."

Riley straightened up a little higher, hoping to thin her lean frame out more. "Well, it's gonna have to," she scoffed. "I can't be the only suitor at this ball without the proper attire."

Alyssa tugged harder in frustration. "You know, it might help if I could remove the price tag from the zipper."

"Perhaps." Riley sideways glanced at the two inattentive boutique cashiers before turning her head slightly over her shoulder to acknowledge her best friend in a hushed tone. "But then I wouldn't be able to return it in the morning. $700 for a damn dress is highway robbery, and I won't be a victim to this place's jacked-up prices." She glared back at the fashionably dressed women running the register and hollered out, "You should all be ashamed of yourselves!"

"Shhhh!" Alyssa's face burned with embarrassment while she smiled sheepishly at the bewildered ladies. "Are you crazy? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You mean aside from the usual things that are wrong with me? I'm a nervous wreck, Lyss. Liam still doesn't know that I'm here. I'm about to go wine-and-dine with snobby rich people, while my socially awkward-o-meter is on red alert. And Maxwell's brother didn't like me. How am I supposed to impress Liam, the press, this council, and his parents when my own sponsor hates me?"

"He doesn't hate you," Alyssa replied. "Suck in your stomach a little more ... Rashad told me Duke Beaumont is high-strung and takes all this court business very seriously. If you ask me, give ‘The Brows’ some time. I know he'll love you. And Liam already does!" Alyssa stepped back in delight after tirelessly sliding the last bit of the zipper to the neckline. "Voila! I got it."

Riley stiffly turned toward the full-length mirror -- her insides feeling like they would pop right out of her -- and surveyed the finished product. "Not bad, not bad. A slight muffin top on the sides, and my ass cheeks are packed in tighter than my family around the dessert station at a buffet, but ... I think I can get by with it." Turning to face Alyssa, she lit up with anticipation. "Okay, now it's your turn."

Alyssa plucked the bright red dress off the rack and headed inside one of the many dressing rooms. A moment later, she emerged with a beaming smile on her face and held her arms out to the side to do a show-offish twirl. "So, how do I look?"

"Oh my god, Lyss!" Riley clapped excitedly. "You look so hot in that! That color of red really suits you too. Although, you might want to cover up the girls a little more; I've never seen your boobs look so huge."

"Wha --" Alyssa glanced down at her fully rounded chest, a substantial portion of which was spilling out over the top. She crossed her arms over her breasts in horror. "OH MY GOD! You're right: They're enormous in this thing. I can't go out there like this! They'll be stuffing dollar bills into my cleavage and begging for a lap dance!"

"Well, just ... try to tuck them in," Riley suggested, demonstrating her advice on herself. “You know, the way guys tuck in their junk.”

Alyssa shook her head adamantly, attempting to slide the top of the dress up higher. "I don't think that'll work. It's already extremely tight."

“That’s what he said,” Riley quipped with a snicker, much to the chagrin of her longtime friend, who simply blinked back. “Wow, not even a smile. Come on, Lyss, it’s not that hard.”

Alyssa grinned despite herself, “That’s what she said.”

Riley stepped closer, reaching out to grab a portion of the garment covering Alyssa's bosom, and declared, "Alright, If I can squeeze my fat ass into this dress, you can cram those giant melons into yours. So, get to pushin’, girl.”

-----------

After 10 minutes of stuffing uncooperative breasts into a gown, Alyssa and Riley stepped out of the boutique and made their way to the bottom of the main staircase outside of the ballroom, where Rashad and Maxwell were waiting eagerly for them. 

A grim-faced Rashad approached the pair as they neared. “We were beginning to worry about you two. I hope you didn’t have any trouble.” He reached out and greeted Alyssa with a friendly kiss to the cheek as Riley made her way up to Maxwell, who did the same.

“No troubles,” Alyssa assured him, before staring down at her chest to make sure certain parts were still contained inside her dress. “Just some slight wardrobe issues that I think we’ve taken care of.”

Riley frowned, rubbing a soothing hand over her squeezed-in stomach. “Let’s just say we both feel like canned biscuits.”

“And I’m petrified of canned biscuits!” Alyssa shrieked, then spoke in a lower, punier voice in Rashad’s direction. “They make that popping sound that scares the hell out of me.” He nodded sympathetically at her admission, having no clue what canned biscuits were.

Maxwell let out a chuckle. “Either way, you both look awesome! Like two totally righteous peas in a pod and all that jazz.” He peeked over at Riley, who wasn’t appearing too sure of herself, or of anything for that matter, knowing she’d spent most of the day in a subtle panic. While she steadied her breath, he looped his arm through hers and leaned over. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re going to go in there like the boss you are and knock them all dead. I just know it.”

Riley swallowed thickly, “But Liam --”

“Will be over the moon with excitement to see you again. Do you think I’d go through all the trouble of trying to convince you, and then Alyssa, to come all the way here -- not to mention, facing my brother’s wrath -- if I didn’t believe Liam would want to see you again?” Riley half-shrugged, but Maxwell could tell by the little glimmer of hope he caught in her eyes and the slight curl at the corner of her plush pink lips that she knew it was true. “If he’s not happy about seeing you, I’ll book you on the first flight back to New York, and you can punch me in the gut or something. But I can tell you with certainty: No man goes out with a woman and keeps his friends up most of the night talking about how amazing she was if he doesn’t want to see her again.”

Riley could feel a tinge of pink color her cheeks and looked away for a brief moment, knowing he was right. She was about to see her prince again. Simply knowing how happy Liam was when they parted ways that night made her heart flutter. The blushing suitor peered back at the towering man on her arm and smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, Max.” 

As they both stared straight ahead at the set of double doors where Alyssa was making her grand entrance into the ballroom with Rashad, Riley pointed out, “You realize if you had said all that stuff to me this morning and five bloated pounds ago, I wouldn’t have cried to you all day over pints of ice cream, half a sheet cake, and a bag of Mini Snickers?”

Lord Beaumont grinned without looking at her as the orchestral music inside erupted through the newly opened threshold that awaited their crossing. A gleam of anticipation glistened the cobalt hue of his eyes.”That’s our cue. Time to look alive, Twinkle Toes, it’s showtime.”

__________

It felt like a million pairs of eyes bore through Riley when the announcer spoke her name out to the guest in the ballroom. In reality, few paid much attention to the young woman dressed in pure white, from the feathery halo perched above her fancy swept-up hairdo to the tiny heels that sparkled like glittery specks of fairy dust on her feet.  

As Maxwell ushered her proudly through the spectacular crowd adorned in the finest silks and chiffons, faces concealed behind extravagant masks similar to hers, and opulent table spreads of gold and crimson, Riley searched the four corners of the room for one particular set of the bluest eyes she’d ever encountered -- she had Liam’s memorized by heart. However, the only ones she recognized came from her smiling best friend, standing casually beside the Lord of Domvallier at the bar, keeping her word to watch out for her. With a subtle grin from Alyssa to convey she had her back, the whirlwind of fear and chaotic thoughts that overwhelmed Riley quickly dissipated into thin air. 

Baby steps.

While Maxwell and Riley headed to the center of the ballroom to meet up with Bertrand, across the way, Alyssa ordered a cranberry vodka from the bar. She was wearing red and needed a drink that matched perfectly with the fabric in case of accidental spillage. As the bartender poured her glass, she tore her vigilant gaze from Riley when Rashad’s cell rang. Seconds later, he covered his phone lightly with a palm and lowered it away from his ear to speak with her. 

“This is my client in California. Will you be okay for a little bit while I take this out on the balcony?”

Alyssa nodded. “Of course. Take your time. Is there anything I should be doing while you’re gone?”

“Try mingling with the crowd. Get to know the other suitors. The best way to help Riley tonight is to get a feel for the competition. Figure out who you can potentially get on her side and who is going to cause her trouble.”

“With all due respect, this isn’t Survivor.”

Rashad grinned before excusing himself. “We'll see if you still feel that way by the end of the social season.”

What is it with all the Debbie Downers here? He sounds just like -- Before she could finish that thought, a stroke of irony occurred when she caught the denim-clad Drake, standing out like a sore thumb, making his way up to the bar. She quickly spun around on the barstool and hovered over her freshly poured beverage. 

Tapping the bar's woodgrain top, Drake called for, “The usual,” before plopping down on the stool next to her. His woodsy scent filled the air and wafted in her direction; she wondered if he’d even recognize her.

Pressing the rim of the glass to her lips to take the first nervous sip of her drink, she wondered why she even cared if he did.

Alyssa set the vodka cranberry down on a cocktail napkin at the same time Drake reached for his tumbler of whiskey. A brush of their hands caused them both to retreat away before he bowed his head respectfully to her. 

“I’m sorry, my lady.” Drake was quick to apologize. He never knew which stuck up nobles would have an issue with a commoner’s simple touch.

Alyssa lifted a brow and smirked in response. “So you do have manners?”

He’d recognize that wily voice anywhere. Grumbling, Drake responded. “Aww, hell! Pipsqueak? Is that you?”

“Hello, Sunshine.” She dimpled.

Drake shook his head. “I should have known. Of all the damn people in this room, I still managed to find you.”

“I would call that a very lucky day for you then.” Alyssa lifted her drink and tipped back a gulp. “So what’re you doing here? Don’t you have some royal cows or chickens to herd around or something? Who wears denim and jeans to a fancy ball?” 

She would if she could get away with it.

His tight shoulder muscles bounced slightly with disingenuous laughter as his chestnut eyes took in her sultry devilish costume. “I could ask you the same about your own clothes. Suitors are supposed to dress up for these things. Not come as themselves.”

Offended, Alyssa arched back contemptuously. “Are you calling me a devil?”

“If the horns and pitchfork fit.” Drake retorted. He motioned with his glass across the room. “By the way, you see that blazing redhead who just stole your little friend away from Maxwell?” When Alyssa snapped her gaze protectively in that direction, he continued, “That’s Olivia. You might want to check in on … what’s her name again?”

“Riley ...” Her tone was resentful. He knows damn well what her name is. 

“Whatever. Just trust me on this, if the two of you know what’s good for ya -- and I’m betting you don’t -- you’ll stay as far away from Olivia and the rest of these social-climbing fuckers as possible.” His mood suddenly shifted as he drained his drink, then slammed it on the bar top, motioning with his hand to the bartender for another.

Alyssa was quick to notice the tension in his jaw and the immense throb of protruding veins in his forearm as he nursed his drink. “What climbed up your ass and died? Why are you even here if you hate everyone so much? 

He quickly snapped. “I’m here for Liam!”

“Well, I’m here for Riley!” The two of them glared at each other in a tense showdown that neither was willing to back down from. After a beat, Alyssa’s determination weakened somewhat; confrontations made her jittery. 

And with him in particular.

Letting her shoulders slump, Alyssa let out a soft breath as she relaxed. “I’m trying to give her some space … but do I need to go check on Riley?” The question was asked sincerely. 

Drake turned his head back, his vision crossing the vast expanse of the room and landing on a perturbed Riley in conversation with Olivia. He scowled, recognizing the expression impressed on her face all too well. “We’re outsiders, Alyssa. You. Me. Riley. That’s the only thing they’ll ever see. It’s the only way they’ll ever treat us.” He shifted to face Alyssa again. “Take that for what you will. If she were my friend … I would.”

_______

Riley shook her head emphatically. “There’s no way I’m supposed to kiss the king’s shoe. That’s weird, creepy, and-and- unsanitary!” She nodded toward a masked couple standing before the seated king who bowed, curtsied, and then exited to the left. “They didn’t kiss his shoe. I think you’re full of shit.” 

“Riley, Riley, Riley.” The duchess shook her head with an exasperated tone. “Those people are well-established and highly-regarded members of the court … you’re not. And while I admit it’s a rather unorthodox Cordonian royal custom, it’s part of our tradition that the newest members humble themselves before the king in an act of deep respect and reverence. I’m actually astounded Maxwell never bothered to tell you.” She flipped back a thick curly-q strand of hair that hung over her shoulders. “Do what you want. But don’t say I didn’t try to help you.”

Riley hesitated. “I guess I’ll keep it in mind …?”

“Great!” Olivia wrapped a firm hand around Riley’s wrist and pulled her toward the throne where the king sat. “You’re so lucky that I was here to warn you! Otherwise, you’d have looked utterly ridiculous.”

“Wait! Where are we going? Riley demanded, her feet barely able to keep up with the brisk pace. 

“To present you to King Constantine.”

“But I need to wait for my sponsor!” Riley protested. She struggled to break free, but the redhead’s clawlike grip was surprisingly strong. 

“Every second counts, Riley. These women have all known Liam for years. The early bird gets the Crown.”

“But I --” Panicked, Riley scoured the room for the Beaumonts and found them standing near the hors d'oeuvres table embroiled in what appeared to be a heated discussion.

“What the fuck?” On the opposite side of the ballroom, Alyssa spotted Olivia hauling Riley across the floor. Before Drake had the chance to warn her this wasn’t good, an enraged Alyssa was already sliding down off the barstool, stampeding off in hot pursuit of finding out what this redheaded troll was doing with her best friend. 

And for reasons he couldn’t fully understand, feeling frustrated beyond comprehension, Drake followed right on her heels.

Coming to a screeching halt before the raised dais, Olivia thrust Riley forward, who nearly tripped from the momentum into the bottom step at the sudden stop.

It took every ounce of restraint Riley had not to turn toward the woman who had forcibly dragged her across the room and to stick a pair of size-seven heels straight up her ass. She, however, liked the pretty, sparkly shoes she had on too much to ruin them … and wanted to end the evening outside of a hospital bed. “Asshole,” she muttered almost soundlessly.

“Your Majesty,” Olivia smirked. “I would like to present to you the suitor House Beaumont has chosen. Lady Riley.”

Riley gave her a cursory glare. It was the moment of truth. She plastered on her best smile for the King, who regarded her with a nod. 

Just … just do it. “Your Majesty.” Riley dipped into a low curtsy and held it in place for several seconds before contemplating the validity of Olivia’s outlandish claim and swallowing hard. “Here goes nothing.”

Placing both palms on the plush red carpeting that laid at the feet of the King, she lowered herself slowly until her knees rested on the top step.

“What the hell is she doing?” Alyssa questioned as she desperately weaved around a sea of faces, dodging server trays and tables along the way. “And where the hell is Maxwell?”

“I don’t know ...” Drake answered, practically pushing her even more quickly through the crowd, “ … but you better move faster. There’s no damn telling what Olivia told her to do.”

Riley paused briefly, staring at the simple black shoes that almost resembled a shiny boot. She wanted to be kissing Liam right now, not his father’s old fricking foot. Worst vacation ever.

Lowering her head gradually toward Constantine’s shoes, she scrunched up her face and reluctantly puckered up. 

Out of nowhere, a body with the vigor of a wild stallion in full sprint barrelled into her side, sending Riley hurling across the dais and causing her to land face-down on the marbled floor below.

"What is the meaning of this?" An enraged Constantine bolted up, his ire focused on Alyssa, hunkered down on all fours at his feet, striving to catch her breath.

Maxwell and Bertrand heard the commotion and came rushing to Riley’s side when they realized it was her sprawled out and jerking on the floor.  

"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty," an apologetic Alyssa said as she reached up for the hand Drake was offering. The King's glare at her was nerve-wracking as he waited for an explanation -- until Drake stepped up in front of her, blocking her view of the incensed monarch. "I can explain."

"I hope you can, young lady." Constantine glowered, baffled as to why Drake Walker was still standing between them … and mirroring every movement she made. When she shifted, he shifted. When she moved her arm, he did the same. Was this some type of game?

“Uh … um.” Alyssa's mind raced with excuses. She couldn't very well tell him the truth and make Riley or herself look bad -- she was still a representative of Duchy Domvallier. There was only one thing she could think of to say as she whipped around Drake and pointed at him. "This man pushed me!"

Drake's body stiffened at her accusation. "The hell you talking about?" 

She covered her eyes with a hand, pretending to sob. "I was on my way up here to pay my respects to you, sir, when this man ..." she paused to take in a fake stuttering breath, "... came out of nowhere and pushed me from behind. I tried to stop myself from running into anyone, but I couldn't. Too much momentum." Alyssa lowered her hand and stared at a wide-eyed Drake. "I’m just a small person, mister. Why would you do that? Why? What did I ever do to hurt you?"

"I never --"

"Drake?" The King eyed him sternly. "Is this true? Did you push this young woman?"

Drake’s defensive stance was no match for Alyssa’s pleading eyes, begging him to save her from this. “Please,” she mouthed.

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “I … I’m sorry, Sir. Lady Alyssa’s extremely long dress was dragging the floor and I stepped on it. When I lifted my foot off, she ... I don’t know … flung forward. I tried to grab her before she went flying, but she got away, and that must be why she thought I pushed her.” Drake lowered his gaze to Alyssa. “You really shouldn’t shop in the adult section, miss.”

“Is it possible you were mistaken, Lady ... Alyssa?”

She nodded. “Yes, that is surely possible,” she agreed in a rehearsed-sounding tone. “It’s all coming back to me now.”

“Well, then.” Constantine's contented glance drifted to Drake. “It’s good to know you didn’t push an innocent suitor on purpose, Drake. But just know this … I’ll be watching you.” 

“Looking forward to it, sir. Thank you, sir.” Drake quickly bowed his head as Constantine returned to his seat to greet the next guest. He grabbed Alyssa’s elbow and rushed her off to the side of the dais.

-----------

Maxwell knelt beside a disheveled Riley, helping her rise to her feet and dusting her off. 

“Lady Riley,” a scowling Bertrand glared, “what on earth is the meaning of this? The glory of House Beaumont is on the line tonight, and you’ve already made your first blunder. I told you, Maxwell, this was a mistake.”

Slightly dazed, Riley stumbled while massaging a sore wrist. Inclining her head so she could see him under the halo that drooped over her eyes, she retorted, “I was shoved, Berturd. It’s not like I did this on purpose. And thank you for your concern; I’m fine, by the way.”

“Shoved? By whom?” The three of them turned to see Alyssa and Drake scampering off to a corner. “It was Domvallier’s suitor?” Bertrand asked incredulously. “This is preposterous! It’s beneath Lord Rashad’s character to have his suitor and Drake Walker sabotage ours. I will have to go over there and put an end to this travesty at once.” 

“NO!” Riley and Maxwell barked.

"Bertrand. Why don't you let Riley and I handle them while you play damage control with the King? Unless ..." he smirked. " You want me to smooth things over with His Majesty? I have a lot to say about how Twinkle Toes just SAILED through the air at warp speed --"

"Dear God, no, Maxwell! There will be no need for your … input. But, you two, get results from Drake and that suitor. No funny business," he warned.

The two of them nodded in understanding. As soon as Bertrand turned his back and marched away, they both gave a knowing glance to the other before rushing over to Drake and Alyssa, who had just made it to a far corner of the ballroom, 

Alyssa yanked her elbow away from his vice-like grasp. “I believe we’re out of the clear; you can let go of me now.”

“Listen. I have to tell you something, ‘cause you need to know it ... “ Drake swallowed thickly, his rounded eyes focused squarely on the woman who’d just thrown him under the bus to King Constantine. He spoke as if he had something caught in his throat, “You--your-- uh -- ”

“And who made these damn shoes, anyway?” Alyssa complained as she hiked up the lower part of her dress and stepped out of her heels. Her already short stature lowered several inches. “They clearly hate short women and feet. Seriously, who thought walking around like a newborn calf was sexy?”

“Alyssa,” Drake tried again to speak through a strained voice, “You need to listen --”

“Hey!” Riley interrupted as she and Maxwell stepped up to them. “Why’d you push me off that stage thingy? And OH MY GOD, ALYSSA! YOUR --” Maxwell slapped a hand over Riley’s mouth, knowing exactly what her big mouth was getting ready to loudly announce.

Her frantic muffled words continued to blabber through his tightly clasped hand.

Alyssa gave him a confused look. “Maxwell, what are you doing?”

“Just stopping her before she told everyone within earshot ...” he paused fleetingly, lowering his gaze from the muddled expression on her face to her chest. “Your bosoms … well, they have emerged.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you before,” a flustered Drake said as Alyssa let out a gasp and looked down. “You’ve been ... exposed … since --” He was quickly cut off again by her tiny wail as she fixed herself and dashed out of the ballroom, mortified, her arms crossed over her chest.

--------------------

Riley tapped lightly on the women’s restroom door. “Lyss? You okay in there?”

“No!” Her pouty voice rang back. “I’m the laughingstock of this entire court.”

Maxwell chuckled, hollering back. “You don’t have to worry about that, Lady Alyssa. I’ve already got that title covered in spades.”

“You two need to get back to the ball,” Drake said gruffly, referring to the girls. “Liam will be arriving any minute.”

“You’re right. There are probably five people in there who still haven’t gotten an up close shot of my breasts.” Alyssa swung the door open, bitterly hitching up the front of her dress as she stepped out, and glared up at Drake as she walked by. “And you let me walk around like that!”

“I did not!” He flushed a deep, dark red. “I told you, that’s why I was standing in front of you, so no one would see … ugh, fuck it. Just -- let’s go, okay?” 

A remorseful Riley hugged Alyssa. “I’m so sorry my dumb ass was what caused this to happen to you. Thank you for making sure I didn’t make a fool of myself.”

Alyssa squeezed tighter. “It was way better that it happened to me than you. We can definitely have a good laugh over this by the time I’m, like, 150.” When they let go of one another, she smiled at her friend. “Come on, we have a ball to get back to. And you have a prince to dazzle.”

“Oh, you guys go on ahead. I need a minute to straighten up.”

Drake, Alyssa, and Maxwell headed back inside while Riley spent a few minutes in the bathroom wiping away the dust off her dress and getting her hair back in order as best as she could. Plus, she just needed a moment to herself; it was the first time since she woke up that morning that someone wasn’t hovering over her shoulder or trying to impress someone. There also were some major jitters happening knowing the Prince was arriving at any second.

Stepping out a few minutes later, Riley headed back down the hallway, hopeful she still appeared as presentable as when she arrived earlier. 

Dotted along the walls that trailed back to the ballroom were portraits and artwork of kings and queens. Judging by the large periwigs, justaucorps, and stockings over breeches depicted, obviously they were quite old. One particular painting caught her attention enough to halt her steps before she plastered on a naughty grin.

“Ohhhh, what do we have here?” Riley snickered, leaning in closer to get a better glimpse. “I see London, I see France, I see a very hung King without his pants.” She fanned a hand in front of her face and spoke as if she were Scarlett O’Hara herself. “My, my, my, Fabian, I haven’t seen a lot of those, but I do declare, you put all the Yanks I’ve been with to shame. I’d be remiss to not ask if you were generous enough to pass on certain sizable traits, say to … Oh, I don’t know, the current Crown Prince?”

“Frankly, my dear … I don’t think he gave a damn,” a deep voice quipped over her shoulder.

Riley spun around, her body crashing into the portrait and causing it to rattle against the wall and lean heavily. Her face burned red-hot as soon as she heard his voice, even though every ounce of blood in her body seemed to rush to her wobbly feet. Liam reached out, grasping hold of her arms to brace her as she stared back, slack-jawed and weak-kneed, at his half-masked face, smiling warmly. “L-L-Li --”

“My sincerest apologies if I startled you, my lady. Are you okay?”

Her throat was dry, and surely no one in all history had ever been as embarrassed as she was at that moment, but she managed to answer feebly, “I think … I pissed my pants.” They both looked down at the floor simultaneously, relief washing over them that there were no puddles. Riley closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath. “Oh, thank God.”

Liam chuckled, his twinkling blue eyes glued to her flustered face. “You’re just as beautiful as you were that night in New York, Riley Brooks.”

“Wait … you know that it’s me? Are you surprised? Are you upset? Do you think I’m some creepy stalker now? I swear I’ve never even touched a weapon.”

“Really? What happened to your bag of Chinese throwing stars?” Liam teased lightheartedly. Riley tilted her head in confusion. “You remember, the ones you were going to throw at me in the alley outside of your bar --”

“Oh. Yes. Right,” she laughed awkwardly as the memory came to her. “Yeah, I may have embellished the truth there a bit. Twenty-pound hams seem to be more my weapon of choice.” Riley hung her head. Why the hell did I just tell him that? When Bastien cleared his throat and gave Liam a pointed look, Riley knew their time was short. “I know you have to go, but I just need to know something: How did you know I was here? Maxwell tried to get in touch with you and never heard back. I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me showing up here.”

“I’ve been quite busy since leaving New York with preparations for the social season and the Masquerade kicking off this evening. But it was Drake who came pounding on my door this morning to fill me in. You can imagine my surprise when he told me that you were here, and, I quote, ‘brought her small aggressive friend with her as guard dog.’”

Riley smirked with a shrug. “Can ya blame a girl? I came to win. Besides, I really like you, Liam.”

He smiled. “I really like you too, Riley. But this isn’t New York. As much as I wish we could just pick up where we left off two nights ago, this entire series of events is set up not just to give me time with my potential matches, but also to give my parents, the Council, and the people of Cordonia time to get to know the future queen. From now on, everyone will be watching you and ... Lady Alyssa.” Liam paused to chuckle and shake his head in amusement. “You actually got your friend to pose as a fake suitor and somehow convinced an honorable and highly dignified member of the court to sponsor her?”

“Yeaaaah, I still don’t know how the hell I did that. I should get extra points for my manipulation skills”

Liam laughed. "I believe you mean, negotiation skills."

Riley nodded. "Yeah, those too."

Already well past the time to make his grand entrance, Bastien approached Liam to give the final warning. Liam acknowledged him and turned back to Riley. “I hope I’ll see you again later tonight, if you’ll save a dance for me. But until then …” He pressed her willing body against the wall, tracing the back of his forefinger along her velvety cheek. “ … just know how very, very, happy I am to have you here, Riley.” His lips were fire and ice when he leaned down to meet her equally fevered ones in a lingering kiss. And she melted right into him.

With that, Liam was whisked away by the head guard and made his way into the ballroom. As a panting Riley brushed her fingertips over the tingling in her bottom lip, she felt so many things all at once: relief that he was happy she was there and already knew everything regarding Alyssa, and that same exhilarating bliss that swept her off her feet two days ago when they shared their time together. But he was abundantly clear, this wasn’t New York anymore, and he still had a duty and obligation to Cordonia regardless of his apparent feelings for her. 

Riley let a puff of air and pushed her backside off the wall to return inside. Just as she did this, the crooked frame bearing the likeness of the late King Fabian she admired earlier fell from its hook and crashed to the floor, causing the ancient glass to shatter beside her. With her head shrunken into her shoulders, Riley slowly peeked out one eye and saw the damage. Glancing down one end of the hall to the other to see if anyone saw her, she glanced down at the shards and still fully intact artwork. Normally she would have hightailed it out of there, but she couldn’t help herself from giving her destruction parting words. 

“I guess you’re not … hung anymore.”

Then she bolted the hell out of there.

--------------

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