#it ruffled so well and i felt like a fancy dancer

[ahsokaisawesome]

Hometober Day 5

Sorry for being late, school takes up most of my day so I don't get home until way late at night. BUT I'LL CATCH UP. So this was about movement, I call it "My slide" based on something I did VERY often as a kid in the house we bought and lived in for over 6 years in Calgary. Can't blame a kid much for finding a cooler way to go down into the basement haha. As usual, more details are under, but thanks!

This house was the pinnacle of my time in Calgary, I loved it dearly and it broke my heart to leave it so suddenly. This was the first half of the basement, where my dad's "office" was, the couch bed and the big stack of firewood hidden by the furniture and TV where I watched so much Clone Wars. When I first saw the support pole next to the stairs I KNEW I had to grab it, and it was history since. I taught my friends how to do it, and with the right speed, you'd end up facing the back of the floor towards the game section where I had my N64 set up, old house toys donated to us by other families, and the laundry space. The basement was a great place, it had such a unique 2000s personality to it with all the mismatched furniture and colours and random shit that was needed like my piano and the second couch not seen here. I had lots of messy times down there, and my parents actively discouraged me from doing so but it was FUN and COOL and AWESOME and I have no regrets. Also someone send help the details in this took so long but again, no regrets heh. Have a great day!

[peachyho]

The Fall of Icarus II

pairing: Heeseung x Reader

genre: fluff, mild angst, mages

warnings: tattoo’s, some pain, a lot of fighting, some blood, sickening pet names, i write bad

word count: 3.3k

summary: Icarus laughed as he fell

⇺ Prev | Next ⇻

It had been 15 years since the two of you had pricked your fingers together, sealing the bond you’d had for all time. Since that day, you had never left his side. Now you were here in the giant house, resting on your entirely naked front while Heeseung was hovering over your back, following the stencil he’d lain on your skin a few hours prior while he tapped the black ink into your skin.

It wasn’t his first time, and now he’d worked on his powers enough to the point of you never feeling a thing. You never noticed how Heeseung shifted in pain every few moments with every new symbol he etched into your skin, how his skin seemed irritated for hours after, only testing your new abilities until your bones felt like they would break with one strong breeze.

Finally, everything was done, and Heeseung watched in awe as the ink slowly leached into your skin, leaving only a red impression of what he’d just sent hours working on. Slowly it faded even more to a subtle pink, looking like nothing more than just a bruise that hadn’t healed quite yet. The way it looped into the other symbols hidden on your back was nothing more than elegant, and Heeseung was thankful you had designed it so beautifully.

“You’re ready my little mage, it's finished,” his smile was showing in his voice, a gentle hand running up your bare side, finger brushing against the tickling spot on your ribs. Your hand came up to swat him away, pushing yourself up gently, anticipating the ache that never came as you pulled your shirt on.

“Thank you my kind warlock.” You pressed a light kiss to his lips, stretching as you stood up fully, tiredness already seeping through your body after lying down for so long.

“So what does this one do?” Heeseung grabbed your hand, lips brushing against your knuckles as he looked up at you from the chair. You ruffled his hair, eyes crinkling shut as you smiled at him.

“This, my little cat, is a looping sigil. If I ever wanted to activate it, it would be a fail safe.” Heeseung stared you down, eyes darkening slightly.

“A fail safe for what?” His tone was harsh, fingers gripping you tighter and tighter with every passing second.

“In case it's necessary, Hee. But it's just an if, I probably wont ever need it.” You crouched down in front of him, other hand taking his and squeezing it reassuringly. It didn’t seem to work.

“I promise you my little mage, I will never let anything happen to you. That sigil will never ever be used, I swear on my life.” With his words, a faint blue chain circled around your joined fists, barely noticeable in the light streaming in from the windows.

“I promise I will never use it unless it is the last possible choice.” Some chain links turned red, blending into the chain seamlessly. He let his head fall down slightly, pressing his forehead against yours while staring at the chain. You closed your eyes, letting your breath out in a shaky sigh.

“My little mage…”

“My kind warlock.” You tilted your head forward, brushing your lips against his ever so slightly. You opened your eyes as you pulled away, the chains no longer around your fists but a faint impression left on your skin.

—

17 years and 10 months. It had passed in a flash, the years creating up on you like a hunter stalking prey. Much like how Heeseung was acting now.

The two of you had arrived at this ball together, a friend and fellow mage celebrating his marriage in a night of drink and dance. Well, to call it a ball would be to imply some kind of fancy hall, servants standing at every possible area ready to serve drinks and food. This was not a ball in the typical sense.

The woods were lit by firebugs and fae light, stringed instruments playing a merry jig while some singers belted their voices to reach even the nearest village and most hidden creatures. People swung their partners in circles, drunk on mead and the feeling of true joviality. You were in the outskirts of the dance, spinning with a random mage with large rams horns protruding from his forehead, and two hooves for feet. He was a fantastic dancer despite them- or maybe because of them. With an unspoken count, all the ladies parted from their partners, running to the middle with a cheer, only to be spun by a new partner.

Your moss green woven dress flew around you, matching all the deep earth tones everyone wore, the only form of a dress code in this celebration. The hard chest under your steadying hands was familiar, and the laugh that bellowed out warmed your soul as Heeseung picked you up by the waist, twirling in time with everyone around him before setting you down, skipping with you in a large circle around the married couple in the centre.

“My little mage, I’ve been trying to dance with you all night,” Heeseung was slightly out of breath, small beads of sweat showing on his forehead, matching your own signs of exertion. “You’re a very hard woman to catch.”

“My sweet warlock,” a spin that almost sent you tumbling over a tree root sticking out of the ground. “I know you do enjoy a challenge,” you winked at him, spinning him this time, laughing as he almost fell over the same tree root. And with him distracted, the count finished again, all the women running towards the centre again with screams of glee, watching as Ilore grabbed Kirra’s waist, bending her and planting a tipsy, sloppy kiss to her cheek.

Another scream sounded out over the sounds of joy, a bloodcurdling scream that made you shiver, everyone around turning all over to see where it came from. The strings and singers trailed off at separate times, a dissonant sound making everyone cover their ears in pain. Another scream from a different voice came from your right, and some people started towards it to find the source, only to fall back as monstrous creatures emerged from the dark forest all around. The fae lights flickered out as people began running, some away from the monsters and some towards their weapons littered on the benches that had been pushed aside for the dancing.

You were almost frozen, head turning rapidly to try and find- Heeseung was helping up someone who’d fallen, but a creature was right behind him. Running as fast as you could, you tapped your right wrist with two fingers, feeling as the symbol began burning and a spear made of red lightning appeared in your hand. You stopped a few meters away, momentum carrying your arm as you flung the spear straight into the chest of the creature who was mere inches from Heeseung. He looked behind him just to see the spear return to your outstretched hand, turning into a whip just before reaching you.

Nodding at you, he returned to helping the fallen, while you continued attacking. Nothing was keeping them down, they just kept getting back up seconds after being knocked down. You tapped your wrist again, jumping back a few steps while someone ran into the side of a monster just in front of you. A hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you away just as another creature leapt on the man who was pummelling the fallen creature into the ground.

“Y/N we need to run!” Heeseung was desperately trying to pull you back from the fight, more mages joining in now they were armed.

“Heeseung, go now.” You spun, trying to get your arm free from his grip.

“I can't leave you!” His tone was desperate, fear making his chest tighter than anything he’d felt before. You placed a hand on his cheek, trying to calm yourself before you started running with him.

“I will always come back Heeseung, always back to you.” You tried to project a feeling of calm to Heeseung, knowing he could feel everyone’s fear which only helped in amplifying his own. A scream burst out behind you  just as he was starting to calm, and the edge of fear returned to his eyes, expression heartbreaking as he looked over your head at the fight still raging behind you.

“Come back to me, little mage.” Heeseungs hand squeezed your arm before letting you go, turning to run and help anyone who needed it.

“Always.”

A snarl sounded just behind your ear, and you barely managed to duck underneath the claws that came for your head. You tucked your arms around you, brushing your elbows with your palms, and spun as you pulled your arms apart, palms staying against your arms until your wrists. A transparent red shield suddenly burst into existence on your left arm, right hand glowing as the creature slammed against the shield in fury. Gods it was strong. You finally could take in it's appearance and it almost made you run right there.

Wulvers.

It was humanoid, entire body covered in short brown hair with a wolf's head snarling down at you. Wulvers were never down this far from the hills, nor were they particularly violent towards those who didn’t wrong them. What the fuck were they doing here, attacking a gods damned party?

Droll dripped down onto the red shield, arms slamming down again. It’s eyes were feral, hunger tainting it's eyes while claws ripped at the shield, desperate to get through. With a shout, you pushed the monster back with your covered arm, right hand grabbing it's thigh as it stumbled. Almost instantly, the Wulvers back arched in pain, a silent roar opening it's mouth to an impossible width, the skin at the sides stretching and ripping as pain seized every nerve. It dropped after a long moment, curling into itself as you finally pulled your hand away, running your hands back up your arms till the elbows.

There wasn’t much time to concentrate on the way it looked almost pitiful, mages all around you still trying to fight off the remaining Wulvers. You saw as a mage you once knew a few years ago, who gave you your first sigil book fell down underneath one of the creatures. You moved on instinct, sliding on your knees towards the mage, knuckles pressing together. When they pulled apart, they glowed with a blood red mist surrounding them. A punch to the Wulver’s side sent it staggering away, another punch to it's head knocking it out swiftly. You turned to pull the mage up before realising the symbols were still glowing. A swift press of them together made sure the mage wouldn’t be harmed as you pulled him to his feet. A twig was digging in uncomfortably on your sole- when did you lose your shoes.

There was countless shouts now, both pain and anger mingled together. Everywhere you looked, there was some mage or warlock fighting a Wulver, and you didn’t know where in the Hells to start. There, a witch was trying to scramble away from a Wulver who’d caught her dress in it's claws. Taking off in a sprint towards her, you clapped your hands together twice, palms glowing as you jumped onto the back of the Wulver, pressing your palms to the sides of it's head. The hair underneath your hands was thickly matted and tangled, but the Wulver felt the pain from your magic anyway. It let out a pitiful howl, body curling in on itself while it's claws finally retracted from the dress, scratching at it's head in agony. A claw sliced down your left hand, and you had to fight every instinct to pull in back and cradle it. A second later and the Wulver dropped to the floor, not dead but simply passed out.

Falling back from it, you crouched next to the witch, making sure she was alright before clapping your hands back together. Once the glowing subsided, you ripped at your dress, getting a strip large enough to wrap around your hand. The adrenaline coursing through your body helped fight off the pain for now, but you could feel small ebbs breaking through every few seconds. Every time you looked around now, another Wulver was falling, and there was no more place for you in anybody’s battle.

You allowed yourself a moment of rest, pushing yourself back against a tree stump at the edge of the clearing, exhaustion creeping up on you after using so many sigils so quickly in succession. The final Wulver fell to a mages axe, and everyone stayed in a moment of high alert, scanning the clearing for a sign of any more appearing from the dark woods. All the light had left now, firebugs leaving moments after the fighting had begun. The only light source was people’s magic, different colours melding together into one large collective. One by one, they lowered their weapons, finding the wounded and gathering the Wulvers into a pile. You helped as much as you could, but the pain and exhaustion were hitting full force now.

A healer mage was making his rounds on the wounded, and you tried to wave him away to help the others, but the blood seeping through your makeshift bandage was at a worrying level now and the mage sat you down on one of the benches still intact after the attack. His power made you feel warm, and you were close to falling asleep until you heard more footsteps coming from the side of you. You were a second away from attacking again until a voice called out, one more familiar to you than the back of your own hand.

“Oh my Gods, are you okay?!” Heeseung ran up to you, sliding to a crouch as he grabbed your face, scanning for any marks. His touch was beyond comforting, and you sank into it without any complaints.

“I’m okay, I’m okay. I made it back in one piece to you, didn’t I?” Your jokes were an attempt to comfort him, but his panic was becoming overwhelming, hands running over you in an effort to find any cuts or injuries. You couldn’t handle the feeling of dread in your stomach any longer, and you grabbed his wrists to stop his frantic examinations.

“Heeseung, look at me.” His eyes continued scanning you, so you let go of one of his wrists, grabbing his chin this time.

“Look at me. I’m okay. Calm down, deep breaths. I am okay, I am alive and I’m here with you. Calm yourself.” You could see the tears welling in his eyes as he looked into yours with such feeling, it made your very soul ache. He closed them after a moment, a shaky breath leaving him, one he didn’t know he was holding. His head fell forward, a tear sliding down his cheek, and you let go of his chin, hand resting on the back of his neck instead as you smoothed his tousled hair down, pressing your lips to the top of his head. Neither of you pulled away, resting there for a long moment while Heeseung managed to calm himself down, pulling his emotions back inside.

Eventually, he rested his hands on your knee, pulling away from you. His smile seemed too forced, and he still looked on the cusp of tears as he looked at you once again.

“Let’s go home, little mage.” Home to where nothing could hurt you is what he wanted to say. Home to where he could keep you safe, where you had laid protection sigils all over so nothing that wanted to cause harm could enter, to where he could hold you for the rest of the night knowing you were staying by his side and weren’t leaving him. You let him grab your hand, pulling you up to his side so he could wrap an arm around your waist, keeping you as close to his side as possible.

He wouldn’t let you go for the rest of the night, stepping in behind you into the bath, pulling you close to his chest while he washed the dirt and muck from the Wulvers off. You let him shampoo your hair, his fingers dragging over your scalp in the most relaxing way. You turned to return the favour but caught his troubled face.

“What’s wrong Heeseung?” You asked, placing your palm against his cheek. He leaned into the touch, eyes closing with the comforting touch. He hummed, twisting his head to press a kiss to your palm before answering.

“For a moment, I couldn’t tell if you were there. I've always been able to feel your presence, but when you were fighting, at some point everything just… closed off. I thought I lost you forever, my little mage. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.” His eyes stayed closed but you could see the way his brow furrowed and his lips trembled slightly. Leaning forward to press a kiss to his nose, you grabbed the shampoo from beside him and squirted some into your hands.

“Open your eyes Heeseung,” you started rubbing the shampoo into his hair while he complied. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m alive. I’m with you, right now. I’m not leaving you Heeseung, I promise.” Tears welled up in both your eyes as you spoke, and your voice shook with every passing word. He let out a breath that turned into a sob halfway through, and he wrapped his arms around you as he broke, nestling his head in your neck. The suds in his hair popped against your cheek as you pressed into him, bringing your arms around his neck, tears falling freely down your cheeks.

The two of you remained crying as you finished bathing, only pulling apart from each other when you had to wash his hair off. You dried each other gently, tears dried up but still sobbing, the weight of the day hitting the two of you fully in two very different but too similar ways. Heeseung lifted you up after your bath, making sure your legs were wrapped around his waist before carrying you out of the bathing room, arms wrapped oh so tightly around your waist as if he was scared you would suddenly disappear.

He did not let you go even as you reached the bedroom, sitting down on the edge with you on his lap. His head that was tucked into your neck pressed gentle kisses onto your skin, pushing himself up until he was now lying down, head against the pillows. You reached down to grab the cover, cold air hitting your still exposed skin making you shiver. Pulling it over the two of you, Heeseung adjusted so you were now at his side, still half draped over him. Your body felt too heavy to move on your own, so you just let him get the two of you comfortable, eyes feeling so very tired. Heeseung waved a hand, and the curtains showing the just brightening sky closed off, small candles being lit all over the room. He wasn’t ready to be in the dark just yet, fears that you would be lost to the dark if he couldn’t see you too overwhelming at this moment.

He felt so vulnerable when you were away from him, the knowledge that if you were hurt or worse, that he would go insane with guilt and loss was too much for him to bear. His arms tightened around you, needing to feel you close to him to know you were still there. Sleep felt too far for him to reach this night, but with the feeling of your steadying breathing against him, and the warmth you were giving off, somehow he managed to find himself moments away from drifting off.

“I can't lose you my little mage.” His whisper was so loud in the quiet room, the sounds of birds waking outside the only other thing he could hear.

“I fear I would lose myself too.”

[lunnanunna]

Blonde

BTS Extra Member AU

Summary: The story of how and why Jungkook dyed his hair blond. (Or at least the story within my AU 😂)

Warnings: swearing

Taglist: @kimonmars​ @mythicalamphitrite​ @hyunmijung​ @poutypoutybin​ @sunflower-0180​

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from a taglist.

A/N: I know this happened a while ago, but whatever. Hope you enjoy!

Requests are open! Let me know what you think.

“Lexi?” Came a whisper. Lexi grumbled as she felt someone shaking her awake.

“For fuck’s sake, Kookie, the dorm better be burning down,” she hissed as she sat up in bed. The lights in their shared room were still off, and the clock on her nightstand read 3:43 AM.

“No, the dorm’s okay. We’re safe,” Jungkook assured her.

Lexi glared at him. “Go to Hell,” she grumbled as she flopped back in bed, pulling her blanket back over her. They had schedules later that day, and Lexi wanted to get as much sleep as possible.

“Lex. Lexi. Han Chaewon.”

“What do you want?” Lexi whined as she sat up again, pouting at the other.

Jungkook grinned. “The cordi noonas were asking me if I wanted to change my hairstyle when I saw them today, but I had told them no,” the man said.

“Good job Kook-ah. You can say no to people,” Lexi rolled her eyes, moving to lay back down.

“No,” he giggled. “That’s not the end of my story,” the dancer said pulling on her arm to get her to sit back up.

Lexi scowled. “Are you drunk or something?”

“No, I’m pretty sober,” Jungkook nodded seriously.

“Okay, then what?”

“So I had said no, but like now I want to try something,” Jungkook said.

“What? Now?” Jungkook nodded with a grin.

He had to be drunk. Why did Lexi always have to deal with Jungkook’s 2 AM ideas?

She squinted at him in the dark. “What do you want to do? And why are you telling me?”

Jungkook hopped on her bed, facing her. “I want you to help me,” he said excitedly.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “No,” Lexi said, then laid back down, facing away.

“I want to go blonde.”

Lexi shot up and looked at him, eyes blown wide. “Bitch, why didn’t you lead with that?!”

Jungkook chuckled. “Dunno,” he shrugged.

“I think I have some left over supplies from when I went blonde back in the summer,” Lexi stated excitedly as she got out of bed.

Blond Jungkook would not only make ARMY very happy, but Lexi had been trying to convince him to go blonde for years. She would not miss this golden opportunity.

“I’m glad you’re so on board,” Jungkook chuckled as he sat back and watched Lexi scurry into their bathroom looking for the supplies.

Lexi stopped and glared at him. “Sir, I’ve been on your case about going blonde for years. You really think I’d miss this chance? You’re lucky I have experience in dying hair. So you’ll be blonde before the others even wake up,” she grinned.

Lexi had not only dyed her own hair a few times, but she had also been in charge of Yoongi’s dye jobs in the past. The man was particular about who touched his hair after a stylist burned off a chunk of it during a dye job. When he saw how good Lexi was with her own, he started asking her to do his. Lexi jumped at the idea, loving that he trusted her enough.

Once she gathered everything she turned to grin at the other. “Ready?” she asked him.

“Hell yeah,” he grinned right back.

~

A few hours later had Jungkook hanging his head over the sink while Lexi washed out the conditioner. The sun had risen a while ago, but the other still seemed to be asleep, which Jungkook was grateful for. He wanted to surprise them with the finishing product.

“How’s it looking?” Jungkook asked.

“Good so far. It’ll definitely look better once it’s dried,” Lexi stated, running her fingers through his soft hair. The man rarely ever bleached his hair, so it was far from damaged. It was also able to take the color well, though Lexi would still have to dye it again in a day or two to be able to get the right shade of blonde he wanted.

“As long as it’s ready for the Golden Disk Awards,” he had said.

“Oh, we definitely have time. No worries,” Lexi had assured him as she applied a bit more of the dye.

“Okay, all done,” Lexi said as she reached for a towel to dry his hair.

Jungkook stood up and groaned. “I hated that. That’s literally the worst position,” he grumbled, letting Lexi ruffle his hair with the towel.

“Well if you had given me proper warning, then maybe I could have ordered you one of those fancy salon chairs,” she said, flicking his forehead.

Jungkook pouted. “Don’t be mean,” he said.

Lexi rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Go sit on my bed and I’ll grab the hair dryer,” she directed. Jungkook nodded and made his way over.

Lexi grabbed the dryer, ignoring the mess in the bathroom. She’d regret that later, but they were almost done, and Jungkook had promised cuddles and actual sleep when they’d finish.

She quickly made work of drying his hair then grabbed a mirror and handed it to him. Lexi beamed at the finishing product. This had to be one of her favorite and better jobs she’d done.

“See? This is why I came to you. It looks awesome even if it’s a bit yellow,” Jungkook said, running his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, we’ll let your hair rest a bit before we go for it again. I don’t want to fuck it up,” Lexi stated.

“Makes sense,” he agreed, turning his head from side to side, looking at his hair from all angles.

“You look handsome, alright? Can we sleep now?” Lexi begged, latching onto his back. She nuzzled his neck.

Jungkook chuckled, placing the mirror down. “Yes, we can sleep now.”

“Yes!” Lexi whispered then got up and tugged on his arm, directing him to her bed. The two laid down and in minutes fell asleep.

Bonus:

“Do you smell that?” Taehyung asked sleepily from the kitchen table.

Seokjin and Hoseok who were making breakfast looked at the younger then sniffed the air.

“It’s coming from the maknaes’ room,” Namjoon said, already getting up from his seat. The other three followed him down the hall.

Jimin was by Jungkook’s and Lexi’s room then turned to them. “Did Jungkook go to bed blonde?”

“What?” Seokjin asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“No, why?” Taehyung asked,

“Well he’s blonde now,” Jimin answered, pointing at the door.

Everyone looked at each other then walked into the maknaes’ bedroom. There, laying in a tangle of limbs were the maknaes and a very blonde Jungkook.

“I- What?” Namjoon whispered. He was aware of the fact that their maknaes were completely knocked out, but still needed to get his question across.

“When did this happen?” Seokjin whispered shouted.

Taehyung, who was grinning, shrugged. He grabbed his phone and snapped a few pictures to send to Yoongi, knowing that the older would want to know what’s going on.

“Did they do it themselves?” Hoseok asked.

“Probably. Lexi’s basically an expert at this point,” Taehyung stated, walking over to the two sleeping members. He ran a hand through Jungkook’s hair and smiled. “Lex did well,” he smiled.

“Lex is also trying to sleep,” Lexi grumbled, eyes still closed. Everyone looked at her, eyes wide.

“Jungkook too,” the blond added, turning away from the older members.

“You’ve admired the hair. Now leave and let us sleep some more,” Lexi said then burrowed herself into Jungkook’s side.

“You can talk about how good it looks later,” Jungkook said, waving them away.

Taehyung snickered, lightly smacking Jungkook on the thigh. The younger let out a whine.

“Fine,” Jimin chuckled.

“We’ll save you breakfast,” Seokjin stated.

The maknaes both held a thumbs up, making the others chuckle as they walked out of their room.

“What do you think ARMY will talk about more? Yoongi-hyung’s return? Or Jungkook being blonde?” Taehyung smirked.

“That’s a tough one,” Namjoon shook his head, smiling.

Lexi’s Mastelrist

[cuddlepilefics]

We can tell

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Jeongin

Caregivers: Stray Kids

 No one's POV.:

Jeongin knew he could always rely on his hyungs. The were all quite protective of the youngest and would baby him at all times, despite Jeongin trying to push them away. Often times the attention became too much for him. Did they really not trust him for to things on his own? Sure, he appreciated their help when he asked for it but he was an adult too, who should be able to face most of his problems alone. It always got worse, when Jeongin was sick. In no time, the entire group would be pining over him and baby him. It always made the maknae feel guilty because he wasn't even feeling too bad but his friends would do everything for him. Want a drink? Don't move, I got it! Though he would be perfectly able to get stuff for himself, his hyungs would get it for him and he felt bad about his hyings unnecessarily going out of their way for him.

That's why at some point, Jeongin decided to not tell his hyungs when he felt unwell anymore. He'd go ask them for help or Medici ne when he knew it was getting to bad and he needed help but in the main time, he would handle himself. That was also exactly his plan when his throat started to hurt during his vocal lesson. He had probably only strained it a bit anyway. He'd make himself some tea when he got home and it should go away soon. Luckily, the vocal lesson was the last part of his schedule for the day and he could go straight home afterwards. Until his phone dinged with a message that is. Hyunjin had texted and asked if he wanted to join Changbin, Felix and him to get some ice cream. Jeongin contemplated it but decided the cold fruit wouldn’t do his throat any good and that he'd rather have some warm tea. He quickly typed and apology, feeling bad that he had to cancel on his friends. Then he header back to the dorm, happy that his workday was over.

As expected Changbin, Hyunjin and Felix weren't there when he got back. Neither were Chan and Jisung, who had texted the groupchat earlier, statong they'd stay at the studio late. Minho was probably in his room, while Seungmin stood in the kitchen. “Hey, what’s you making, hyung?”, Jeongin smiled, ingnoring the pain in that came with speaking. Seungmin continued to stir in the pit infront of him, turning to him with a smile: “I’m making some hot chocolate to drink while watching a movie. Want some too? You sound like your lesson was intense.” The maknae nodded, it was easy with Seungmin, the other vocalist had been in the same situation multiple times before. It was probably something that just came with their job. While the older finished up their drinks, Jeongin got two cups out and sat them on the counter before raiding their cupboards for marshmallows. He didn't find any so when Seungmin added some cream on top, the younger just added some colorful sprinkles. Jeongin decided to just join his friend with his movie since he didn't have much else to do and he wouldn't have to talk.

What he didn’t expect though was the fatigue that suddenly set in and with the help of the soothing warm drink, he was out before even making it to the middle of the movie. When Seungmin woke him up for dinner, Jeongin needed a second to recognize his surroundings. What he noticed first was the headache thumping behind his temples and the quilt Spread over his legs. They usually kept it over the back of the couch but it seemed like Seungmin had tucker him in after he nodded off. “Hey, the others bought home take out. We got you soup because I thought it'd be easiest on your throat”, the older explained. Jeongin scratched his head awkwardly, mumbling: “You didn’t have to go out of your way for me. My throat will be fine tomorrow.” – “Innie, I've strained my voice in lessons multiple times. We both know how much it sucks and just because it will be better tomorrow doesn’t mean we want you to suffer today. Besides, that was barely any trouble. Come on, let's eat. The others are waiting”, Seungmin smiled.

Despite his nap earlier, Jeongin felt tired and went to bed soon after dinner. His roommate Jisung didn't comment on it but he also turned his bedside lamp off and put in his headphones. The maknae was really grateful for it because his head was still hurting and he couldn't wait to get some rest. Sadly, rest didn’tcome as easy as he had hoped, instead he kept tossing and turning, frequently waking up drenched in sweat from another nightmare. Usually, the maknae wasn’t one to have nightmares and most of the times, he got them when he had a fever. Knowing this, Jeongin got up in the early morning hours and took his temperatur. Sure enough, he was running a mild fever. It wasn’t bad enough to concert him, he was just upset that he couldn’t rest properly. Especially now, that his headache had increased. Sighing to himself, Jeongin took some medicine for his headache and winced at how scratchy his throat felt. He knew he didn’t just push himself too hard the previous day, he was most definitely coming down with something. It would be okay though, he could take care of himself.

Jeongin groaned when jisung's phone blasted ‘fancy you'. Sure, he liked twice but it was way too early to blast any music at that volume. He grabbed his pillow and threw it at Jisung to get him to shut his alarm off. It took a while but eventually it stopped and the maknae almost went back to sleep. He was already drifting off again, when Chan popped his head into the room to make sure they were up, leaving Jeongin no choice but to get out of bed. He shivered as soon as the blanket was gone and decided to wear a hoodie with a t-shirt underneath. They were going to the studio for some recording today and he didn’t want to be cold there. Jisung left their room first, giving Jeongin the chance to try out his voice. He knew it hurt but he didn’t expect to sound this bad. Not even straining himself during practice ever left him this hoarse. How would he be able to hide this from his group. Sure, he'd just try not to talk but eventually he'd have to. Plus, how was he going to record? They'd know then at the latest.

The others greeted him sleepily, when Jeongin joined them for breakfast. He just gave them a smile in return, so they thought he was still tired. Chan pushed a plate in front of him and ruffled the maknae’s hair affectionately. It all went well and Jeongin remained silent throughout their meal till Hyunjin addressed him directly. When the younger just shrugged in response, he frowned: “Yah, talk to your hyung!” The youngest just lowered his head in shame before Seungmin spoke up: “Jinnie, leave him be. He strained his voice yesterday and probably wants to rest it, so he can give his best later. Right Innie?” – ‘Thanks, hyung’, he mouthed with a smile, glad that one of them understood. “Aish. Next time maybe shoot us a text as a warning. We got a bit worried when you just kept quiet”, Chan chuckled, “If you don’t feel up to recording, let us know, okay?” Jeongin nodded and continued eating. Afterwards, he went through his morning routine and applied a good amount of concealer to cover the dark circles under his eyes. He also snuck some more painkillers into his pocket to take later and found a bag of cough drops at the back of his closet, which he quickly shoved into his backpack. Maybe, just maybe, they’d fix his voice enough for him to sing later. He was absolutely dreading the moment he had to record, fearing he wouldn’t be able to but his wishful thinking motivated him to push on.

Jeongin slept through the entire drive to the studio. Initially, he had fallen with his head against the window but it looked highly uncomfortable, so his seatmate Changbin carefully moved the youngest’s head onto his shoulder. While doing so, he clearly noticed the difference between the temperature of Jeongin’s skin and his own. Making sure the maknae really was a sleep, he whispered: “Guys, Innie has a fever.” Chan immediately leaned over to feel the youngest’s forehead for himself, his face dropping when he had to realize his dongsaeng was hiding something from them. Now that it was confirmed that Jeongin was sick, Changbin refused to wake him when they arrived. Instead, he carried him up to the study and laid him down on the couch there. The members either piled onto the other couch or sat on the floor, so their dongsaeng could rest. They weren’t planning on confronting him when he woke up, they’d rather Jeongin admitted it himself, so they continued to work, recording their parts while shooting the youngest concerned glances every now and then.

It had been almost an hour, when Jeongin sat up, rubbing his eyes. He looked around confused, trying to figure out where he was. “You fell asleep in the car, so Changbin carried you to the studio. We thought some extra sleep wouldn’t hurt, since you’re not due to record until later”, Felix chuckled at the younger’s dazed look. Minho sat down on the couch next to Jeongin, a plastic cup in his hands, as he smiled: “I brought a large thermos bottle of tea, I thought it might help your throat some.” Jeongin bit his lip looking sad all of a sudden. Then he pulled his phone out and typed: ‘I really appreciate it hyung but seriously I’m fine. You wouldn’t have needed to bother doing that.’ He already felt guilty enough that Changbin had had to carry his lazy ass all the way up here, when he could have walked by himself perfectly fine. “Well, what if I wanted to?”, Minho asked and pressed the plastic cup into his dongsaeng’s hand. The youngest immediately wrapped both hands around it to warm, only noticing now how cold he felt. He gave Minho a shy and grateful smile before taking a careful sip, trying not to burn his mouth.

Minho had added a generous amount of honey and Jeongin almost sighed at how soothing it felt going down his throat. He didn’t want to admit it but he was quite happy that the dancer had gone out of his way to bring this along. Sadly, once the cup was empty, he didn’t have anything to warm him anymore and the chills were slowly starting back up. How could he possibly feel this cold, considering the layers he had put on? Pretending to go to the bathroom, the maknae snuck away to take another dose of painkillers. They were supposed to also lower his temperature, so maybe he’d feel a bit warmer if his fever went down a bit. At the same time, his hyungs knew he was lying about needing the bathroom, they were suspicious as to what he was really doing, hoping he didn’t feel sick to his stomach too, but they didn’t want to follow and pressure him too much. Should he be gone for too long, one of them would go look for him. “Is it just me or did you notice Jeongin shivering too?”, Jisung asked thoughtfully. Seungmin shook his head, stating: “Not just you, I think his fever is giving him chills.” They didn’t manage to speculate much further because right that moment, Jeongin returned.

‘Aish, what am I going to do with that little rebel? It would be so easy if he could just give in to the truth, so we could take care of him’, Chan sighed, rubbing his temples. He could still see the youngest shaking, though he tried so hard to conceal it. Then the leader had an idea. He got up and grabbed his coat, wrapping it around Jeongin’s shoulders. The he tried to muster as much of a lighthearted smile as he could and hummed: “Innie, it’s your turn soon, so you should probably start warming up. That way we can also hear how your voice is doing.” The vocalist was fast to regain his composure but the split second of horror, that flashed across his face, didn’t go unnoticed by Chan. Jeongin cleared his throat, trying to keep a straight face despite the pain, and tried to hum a little tune, they often used to warm up. Apart from him, there was complete silence in the room, everyone waiting for the moment of truth and cringing in sympathy at how raspy his usually clear voice sounded. Chan was the first to react when Jeongin suddenly broke into tears, pulling him into a hug. It wasn’t even the pain getting to him. It was his frustration about not being able to record that day and therefore holding his group back. His frustration about showing his hyungs that he wasn’t doing his best today and thereby making them worry about him.

“It hurts that bad?”, Seungmin asked in shock. Jeongin shook his head, while the oldest rubbed his back. He croaked: “I-I’m sorry, now I’m holding all of you back again. I’m just so – so f-frustrated w-with myself.” He didn’t even know why he got so worked up about it because he really wasn’t this emotional, maybe the fever got to him more than he wanted to admit. Chan clicked his tongue, leaning closer to Jeongin’s ear, and whispered softly: “Why do you always think you’re holding us back? You can just record another day. If you keep forcing yourself now, you might even damage your voice. That’s not worth it.” The younger sniffled and nodded into Chan’s neck. “Most of us are done already, so why don’t you go home with them and rest a bit? You don’t need to hang around here, especially since I’m sure, your bed is more comfortable than that couch and we wouldn’t want you cold getting worse”, the leader mused. Jeongin pulled away shocked, frowning: “How do you know?” – “Innie, we can tell when you’re sick”, Chan chuckled and helped his dongsaeng to put his coat on properly, so Minho, Felix and Seungmin could take him home. Being producers, Chan and Changbin had to stay back at the studio to finish up with Hyunjin and Jisung but they’d all join them at the dorm in another hour or two.

Jeongin had stopped crying but remained quiet on their way to the car. While settling in, Minho poured him some more tea before shoving the thermos back into his backpack. “Why didn’t you tell us you were sick, Innie? Or should I say, why did you try so hard to hide it from us?”, Minho asked hesitantly. The youngest bit his lip, selecting his words carefully: “You’re always there for me, all of you. You worry so much. I can take care of myself but y’all keep babying me and I feel guilty when you worry and do things for me that I can do myself. You don’t have to go out of your way for me and every time you do, I feel like a burden. I don’t want to be a burden. I took medicine and sucked on cough drops, went to bed early. I really did take care of myself.” When he started to get worked up again, Felix side-hugged him, causing him to shut up. “Well, it is our job as your hyungs to worry about you, there’s no way around it. You should know, as Chan said, we can tell when something’s up and if you don’t talk to us, we’ll most likely assume something a lot worse than what is actually going on. If you really want us to worry less, be honest with us, so we can see what we’re dealing with. Second, how dare you consider yourself a burden? You’re our baby and of course, we’ll always be there for you”, Minho frowned. Felix nodded and continued: “You might not understand the way we feel about you but we really love doing things for you, so please, please, please don’t feel guilty about it. For you it might seem like a bother going out of our ways but we really want to do all of that.” – “And, we don’t doubt that you can take care of yourself, probably better than half of this group. The thing is though, you don’t have to. If you really want to be more independent, that’s fine. We’ll try to hold ourselves back but just know, we’ll be there, not because we have to but because we want to”, Seungmin added. By now, Jeongin was almost tearing up again, touched by his hyungs’ words. He took a deep breath to calm himself, inhaling a faint whiff of Chan’s scent from the coat he was wearing. They really did care about him like brothers.

Already in a better mood after their talk, they made their way to the dorm, where Minho announced: “Let’s get a read on that fever and if it’s not too high, why don’t you take a nice warm bath. You’re still shivering.” They kicked off their shoes and Minho took him to the bathroom, watching as Jeongin took his temperature himself. It was moderate but not too high, so Minho started a warm bath while Jeongin went to pick out some comfortable clothes for himself. On his way back to the bathroom, he was stopped by Seungmin. “Hey, we thought it’d be fun to do a movie marathon if you feel up to it? And I wanted to ask if you’d prefer tea or hot chocolate like yesterday”, the second youngest asked. A wide smile spread on Jeongin’s face and he shyly requested: “Hot chocolate would be nice but you really don’t have to. I liked it when we watched the movie yesterday.” – “I’ll make hot chocolate for all of us, don’t worry about it”, Seungmin giggled and ruffled his only dongsaeng’s hair. Jeongin was just about to enter the bathroom with the pile of clothes in his hands when Felix came sliding on his fuzzy socks, panting: “Wait, wait, wait, I found this really cute pink bathbomb in my bag of toiletries and I want you to have it.” The maknae blushed, resembling the shade of the bathbomb itself, and thanked the Aussie before finally returning to the bathroom.

The tub was already filled and Minho told him to enjoy, before leaving to give his dongsaeng some privacy. He helped Felix set up pillows, blankets and some additional beanbags, so every member would find a spot when they returned from the studio. The living room was already smelling comfortingly sweet from the chocolate Seungmin was melting for their drinks. Maybe their dongsaeng wasn’t feeling all that awful but that didn’t mean that they didn’t want do make him as comfortable as possible and cuddle him all better. Plus, who’d say no to some quality time with their cute maknae? A group movie marathon really sounded like heaven right now and the only thing that could make it even better was the hot chocolate Seungmin prepare, decorating it with cute colorful sprinkles just like Jeongin liked it.

[binniedeactivated]

HIIIIII so I heard you're taking fluffy requests. May I request number 008 from the fluffy prompts with beomgyu???? 🦭🦭🦭 I am whipped for that boy, he's not even my bias but AHHHHHHH he does not have to be that annoying. Like he's annoying but like endearing annoying and it makes me want to call him a cute idiot and ruffle his hair and punch him in the arm and throw a pillow at him and laugh at him and laugh with him and ugghhhhh. There is only one Beomgyu in the world and that is absolutely devastating news 😤😤😤😤

a/n: hiiii my love! and ikrrr 😤

「► 𝐛𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

 ► 008: "I love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner you suck" 🖇

 ►𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟!𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞

 ► 𝐰/𝐜: 515

√  𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 」

it would be beomgyu’s first day back home since the world tour and you had to be the most excited person in the world. you made sure the house smelled nice and you put on a nice outfit as well. i mean, you were home but you still wanted to look pretty for him especially since you were making him dinner. you gathered the ingredients from the online recipè and decided you were going to put your cooking skills to the test.

on the menu tonight was lemon pepper chicken and white rice. you figured since this was the most basic yet fancy meal you could think of, it might not be that bad to make. you seasoned the chicken as best as you knew how with the ingredients you bought and placed it on the skillet. you had already put the rice in the rice cooker before hand so you figured that part was over and done with.

you were humming to the music that boomed through the kitchen and danced a little once the beat dropped. being the erotic dancer that you were though you completely got carried away with the beat and what was once innocent dancing turned into full on twerking as you got each ingredient. what you didn’t know though was that beomgyu was home, laughing at your excitement before he snuck up behind you.

“damn baby!!”. he yelled clutching your waist and you screamed out of fear. you quickly got embarrassed when you saw that gyu was watching the whole time. “oh my god!! why didn’t you tell me you were here?”.

“I wanted to surprise you”. he laughs before kissing you on your cheeks. “I’m not even going to ask you if you missed me because by the way you were moving in here...”. you playfully punch him in the arm. “shut up gyu. yes I missed you”.

he smirks and kisses you on your lips this time while taking off his jacket. “aw? you’re making me dinner?”.

you laugh, “I’m trying. I saw this recipe online. how was the tour though?”.

beomgyu leans on the counter. “it was amazing. each and every city showed us so much love. me and the boys had so much fun”.

“sounds like you had a lot of fun without me?”.

beomgyu laughs and rolls his eyes. “don’t do that. you know I missed you“.

you waited until the chicken was fully cooked to slide the two chicken breasts on the plate. you opened the rice cooker trying to catch your breath from all of the steam. you used the rice spoon to plop two balls of white rice neatly onto the plate. you felt beomgyu wrap his arms around your waist again. he kisses the back of your neck.

“are you really mad that I was gone for so long?”. he murmurs. you shake your head and smile.

“no i was just joking gyu. you’re an idol. world tours are bound to happen. and since you love them then so do I”.

he sits his chin on your shoulder. “you sure?”.

“yes of course”. you turn and allow your lips to brush his delicately, just enough for him to feel the warmth of your skin and bathe in the closeness of you both. once you pull away he hugs you tighter before you sat his plate on the table.

“try it, I want you to tell me how it is”. you begged. beomgyu nervously sat in front of the plate, of course not wanting to show you how nervous he was though. it didn’t look half bad actually. he didn’t know what could possibly go wrong. he forked a piece of chicken into his mouth and chewed. it was tough and dry in the middle and the outside might he add, was drowned in garlic. beomgyu tried his best to keep his eyes from watering as he struggled to swallow the piece of meat. he had to cough but he didn’t want you to think the food was that bad.

you on the other hand was struggling to read his facial expressions. “so? how is it? did I do good for my first time?”. beomgyu gave you a faint smile with heavy breaths. he didn’t know how hard it was to hold back a cough until now. he drummed his fingers on the table. “it’s actually good baby”. he complimented before forking the rice into his mouth next. you smile a little at the compliment.

beomgyu thought that somehow the rice was going to make up for him dying on inside but it didn’t at all. you took the rice out way too early and it was harder than normal leaving gyu was hard rice stuck between his teeth and some even stuck in his throat. “so? how’s he rice?”.

you saw gyu’s face turning red and him shaking his leg a little faster than usual. “gyu you okay?”. he nods. “mhm”. he hums trying to refrain from grabbing the bottle of water in front of him. “well it looks like you’re about to--”.

and just like you thought gyu was damn near coughing his heart out. you rushed over to him just to pat his back. damn it, for once you wanted to actually cook him food without almost killing him. you grab the water and hand it to him and he drinks it gratefully finally getting rid of that weird itch in his throat. when he was finally done drinking he breathed and clutched your hand tightly.

“baby, you are the most beautiful thing on this earth and i don’t know what i’d do without you. And I love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner. you suck”.

[mar-bluu]

Hey there! I've been reading some of your stuff and I just... 🥰🥰🥰 So much good. We love! If you're still taking requests, (no worries if you're not) and would be interested, may I request #75 from the Fluff and Hurt/Comfort prompts (I think) "you're the only person I'd do this for" with Redfinch? Maybe just something mostly silly and fun, possibly featuring Rich Finch™? (but if your inspiration takes you elsewhere, that's fine by me. I'm not picky, I just want some happy for our boys.😉)

Heya!! I am SO sorry this took so long for me to get to, ran into quite a few problems while trying to write these last few months lol! Ship: Redfinch Word count: 3000 Warnings: swearing, mentions of a fight, i think that might be it?

“You ready to go?” Finch popped his head around the bedroom door, adjusting his suit cuffs as he checked in on his boyfriend. Albert was standing in front of the bedroom mirror, fiddling with his tie that was just a touch too loose and a little wonky. He sighed defeatedly. “I guess.” Finch walked over to him and grabbed hold of the tie, redoing it and smoothing his hands over Albert’s chest. “There. Now you’re ready.” Albert groaned and slumped forward, placing his head in the crook of Finch’s neck. “Do I really have to go? Super-fancy-high-end parties for dumb rich people really aren’t my thing.” Finch wrapped his arms around him and grinned. “It won’t be too bad. Just walk around, talk to a few stuffy people, have a drink or two, laugh politely at the occasional joke, and that’s all. We’ll only be a few hours.” He stepped back as Albert sighed again. “You’re the only person I’d do this for.” He muttered, grabbing Finch’s hand, and playing gently with his fingers. “And I appreciate every second you stay stuck with me there.” Albert smirked. “You owe me big time for this.” “I know.” Finch took hold of Albert’s wrists, adjusting his cuffs as Albert tried to do his hair with one hand. “Will your mum be there?” he asked, causing Finch to chuckle. “Yes, she will.” “Oh thank god! At least there’ll be some entertainment.” “My mother getting drunk and picking fights with other guests does not count as entertainment.” “Then why is it so fun to watch?” Albert stretched up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Finch rolled his eyes and tried to hide his reddening cheeks. “You know, sometimes I think you like my mother more than you like me.” “Well, you didn’t down six champagne flutes and deck the lady next to you for badmouthing the waitress.” “Not yet.” “Ooh, do I have something to look forward to tonight?” Finch just smirked, brushed some imaginary dust from Albert’s shoulder and left the room without a word. “Do I?” Albert called after him. “Come on, the car’s waiting.” Albert bounced out of the room following his boyfriends sown the hall. “Do I!?”

--

The large ballroom had been opened up, half the wall sliding back to reveal an extra room used to house the food and drink bar, but it made Albert feel vulnerable and exposed. He hated it. In a room full of up-tight men in stiff suits, and snotty women in flowing, over-the-top dresses, Albert felt completely out of place. He felt small, like everyone was watching him, judging him silently, every airy laugh or titter made him tense up. Finch had been dragged off by his dad to talk to a group of snobby looking people over by the fountain. Yeah, the fountain. There was a fountain just in the ballroom. Albert sighed, they’d only been there for an hour, but it felt like seven. He couldn’t wait to go home. He was sat at one of the elegantly decorated tables, resting his tired feet on the chair opposite –he knew he should’ve gone one shoe size higher- picking absentmindedly at a loose thread of the lace-trimmed tablecloth, lost in his own thoughts. The sound of someone clearing their throat above him pulled Albert from his thoughts. He quickly dropped the tablecloth and brushed his hands over his lap, looking up to see a lady in a lavish turquoise dress, dark hair scraped back into a high, stylish bun. She extended one delicately gloved hand, which Albert took on instinct. “Cordelia Van Rensselaer,” she introduced herself with a small curtsey. “And you are?” “I- uh, Albert, Albert DaSilva.” He stuttered, giving a small shaky nod of greeting. “Well, Mister DaSilva, I just happened to be walking by when I noticed you seemed to be awfully lonely.” Albert took his hand away. “Oh, no I’m-” “So I figured I’d come and brighten your evening.” She picked his hand back up, tapping her foot slightly as she fell into the beat of the song. “Shall we dance?” Cordelia pulled Albert to his feet, she was a lot stronger than she looked. He jumped a little, trying not to trip over his feet or step on her very expensive looking dress. “Ah! No-” Albert moved back, hitting the backs of his knees on the chair behind him. “I’m actually just waiting for my boyfriend to get back- and- and I’m not much of a dancer.” He pried himself out of Cordelia’s iron grip. “Oh.” She said, clearing her throat. “I see.” She smoothed her hands over the ruffles of her dress, opening her mouth to continue speaking, when she froze, eyes narrowing in realisation. “Wait… DaSilva,” she rolled his name around her mouth. “Boyfriend…” her eyes widened as the pieces clicked in place. “You’re dating Patrick Cortez!?” Albert stuttered. “I- uh- yeah? Finch is my boyfriend-” “Oh, I should’ve known!” Cordelia hissed. “That stuck up, no good jerk!” “Hey-” Albert tried to interject, frowning at her sharp words. “I did you a favour by offering to dance with you- I extended an olive branch and you set it on fire!” Albert blinked at her. “What are you fucking talking about?” “Enjoy the rest of your night, DaSilva!” with one last sneer at him, Cordelia turned on her heel, stuck her nose in the air and flounced away to harass her next victim. Albert stared after her in confusion and disbelief- mostly confusion- god, he hated these rich people parties.

--

“-and she spilled her champagne all over the oysters!” Finch laughed along with the group of other well-dressed people, tossing back gulps of wine and snacking on dainty little quiches that were being passed along by waiters. Finch held his hands up, excusing himself from the group, and not so inconspicuously scanned the room for a familiar streak of red hair. Spotting his boyfriend skulking over by the food, Finch smiled to himself and set his sights on Albert, making his way over as quickly yet subtly as possible, ready for a break from all the intrusive, boring questions. “Ah, Patrick!” Finch came to a screeching halt as his father materialised in front of him, an older man at his elbow. Shit! Here we go again. Finch resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Have you met Atticus Caswell and his sons?” he gestured to the other man. Finch bit the inside of his cheek. “No, I don’t believe I have.” He gave a strained smile as his father took him by the elbow and led him a few steps to the side, where another gathering of people he hadn’t noticed earlier stood, swirling wine in crystal glasses and chatting freely. Finch’s father immediately started forming a line of people for Finch to meet and talk to. Finch sighed, this was going to be a long, long night.

--

It was now ten pm and they had been at this stupid party for four hours. Four. Whole. Hours. Albert had eaten his way through half the food table and drunk at least three waiters clean out of their trays. And he hadn’t seen Finch once since they got there. Albert had been getting progressively more annoyed with the night as it dragged slowly on, but the dullness of not having his boyfriend at his side was what was killing him the most. He was beginning to seriously consider setting the gaudy curtains on fire just to get Finch’s attention. Just as his thoughts turned to the fountain, he felt a strong pair of arms wrap around his waist. “Hey.” Albert craned his head back, trying to catch a glimpse of who was behind him. “Finch!” he gasped with delight as Finch buried his face into Albert’s neck, sighing with relief. “Miss me?” He asked and Albert grabbed hold of the hands that were still clasped tightly around his waist. “Not at all,” he smiled. “In fact, I quite enjoyed sitting here drowning myself in champagne and little tiny sandwiches. Did you know there are six different types of ham, but they all taste the same!” Finch grinned against his neck. “So I’m free to go back to mingling?” He began to untangle his hands from Albert’s. “No!” Albert pulled Finch’s arms back around him. “No, I was so bored! Please don’t leave me here to suffer again!” Finch chuckled and pressed a small kiss to the corner of Albert’s jaw. “Don’t worry, I’ve been just as bored as you are. Do you know how much it took me to not throw every single one of those people’s drinks in their faces? A lot.” “So why are we still here?” Albert whined. “It’s not like anyone would miss us.” Finch hummed. “Tempting, but you know my father would kill me. Besides-” “Well, would you look who it is?” The pair of them looked up to see a turquoise coloured demon standing in front of them, arms crossed over her chest, face turned to the ceiling as she looked down her nose at them. Finch sighed and let go of Albert, straightening his suit. “Hello, Miss Van Rensselaer, how are you this evening?” Cordelia clicked her tongue. “I was doing fine until you showed your hideous face.” “Hey-” Albert tried to interject, but Finch put a hand on his shoulder, trying to keep him calm. “That’s nice to hear,” he smiled, voice cold. “What may we help you with?” “Oh so now you want to help me?” Albert looked back and forth between the two, Cordelia had leaned right in, her face pushed right into Finch’s personal space. The overwhelming chemically floral scent of her perfume made Albert’s head spin and he fought to keep himself from coughing as he looked quizzically between the two. Finch rolled his eyes. “Look, Miss Van Rensselaer,” he had dropped the cold formalities. “If you don’t want anything from us, would you oh so kindly piss off? My boyfriend and I are trying to enjoy the night.” Cordelia screwed her eyes up and snarled. “Unfortunately for you, I’m allowed to stand wherever, and next to whoever I want!” her vicious demeanour shifted and she batted her eyelashes charmingly, pitching her voice up much higher than it was. “I hope I’m not sending you the wrong signals.” She said sweetly, baby-voice still dialled up to eleven. Finch not-so-subtly pulled on Albert’s sleeve, moving a step in front of him, narrowing his eyes at the haughty girl before him. Cordelia dropped her façade and returned to her aggressive stance. “And don’t call me ‘Miss Van Rensselaer’.” She hissed. Finch gasped, clutching at imaginary pearls. “Oh of course! My mistake, your royal bitchyness.” He bowed deeply. “Shall I kiss your ruby red slippers?” Cordelia bit back a growl, balling her hands into fists and stepping even closer to Finch, almost nose-to-nose with him. “Why you-” “Oh, Cordelia! Darling!” a whirlwind of champagne skirts rustled into view as Finch’s mother draped herself around Cordelia’s shoulders, wine glass loosely clutched in one hand. “How are you?” Albert struggled to keep the grin off his face. Finally, this night was going to get entertaining! Cordelia shifted under the other woman’s weight, stumbling slightly, trying to keep as far away from the wine that threatened to spill, as possible. “I- uh, I’m fine Mrs Cortez, thank you.” “Oh, that’s so good to hear darling!” She slurred. “But I saw you bothering my boys.” She tossed back another gulp of wine. “And I just wanted to remind you of what happened last time you tried something like that.” She purred, voice dripping with cheerful venom as she twisted a finger through a loose lock of Cordelia’s hair. Finch grinned and leaned down to Albert. “Cordie had the outline of my mother’s wedding ring on her cheek for a month!” He whispered through barely restrained laughter. Albert fought back a smile, as their attention was drawn back to the two ladies. Cordelia had grabbed Mrs Cortez’s wrist, still trying to keep away from the drink while also relieving herself of the weight of another woman hanging off her. “Well, Mrs Cortez,” she started, forcing a strained smile. “I was just having a friendly little chat with Patrick here!” She narrowed her eyes and hissed under her breath. “No reason for you to stick your fat nose in it.” Not as quietly as she thought, apparently. “What was that, darling?” Cordelia visibly froze. “O-oh! Nothing, Mrs Cortez, just clearing my throat.” “Mm, that’s what I thought.” She turned to look at her son. “And, oh! My boys! I got caught up, I forgot to ask you how your night’s going!” Finch pulled Albert closer to him by his waist. “It’s going well, thank you, mother.” “Ah, that’s good to hear sweetie!” Cordelia muttered again, her smile tightened “And you, Albert?” “Just fine, Mrs Cortez.” Albert grinned, shooting Cordelia a smug look from the corner of his eye. Cordelia snarled quietly. “Stuck-up bastard, I swear-” Mrs Cortez smiled, nails digging into Cordelia’s shoulders as she tried to stop her eyes from rolling. “Oh Cordie darling,” she sighed. “looks like we need to have another chat.” She moved her hand from Cordelia’s shoulder up to her pinned back hair, grabbing a fistful. “This way, darling.” And off she marched toward the balcony, dragging a squawking Cordelia behind her.

--

The entire room had gone silent, every person halting their conversation to watch them storm out. Albert and Finch followed suit, staring after them for a few seconds, until the balcony door slammed shut, and the room returned to its quiet chatter. Albert let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and laughed. He laughed and laughed, burying his face in Finch’s shoulder. He felt his boyfriend wrap him up in a hug, chuckling as well. “I love your mum.”  Finch snorted. “She loves you too, I think she asks more about you and how you are than she does me.” Albert stepped back, intertwining his fingers with Finch’s. “What can I say? I am pretty interesting.” He leaned out of the hug, hands still on Finch’s shoulders as the sound of Cordelia and Finch’s mother arguing floated faintly in from the balcony. The music slowly began to pick up again, and Finch smiled a little as he started to rock back and forth slightly, Albert could already tell what was coming and he bit back an eye roll and grin of his own. He felt Finch’s arm settle around his waist. “The night’s still young,” he murmured, pulling Albert back in closer. “Care to dance?” Albert smiled. “Ah you know I’m not much of a dancer, sweetheart.” Contrary to his words however, he reached down and slipped his hand inside of Finch’s squeezing it gently. “But with you, my dear? I’d love to.” and with that, Finch, who was undisputedly the better dancer of the two, lead them around a small section of the floor. Albert chuckled in embarrassment as he stumbled over his own feet, grabbing a little tighter on to his boyfriend’s shoulder. Finch slowed, helping Albert get his feet back under him before continuing on at a slower pace, listening to Albert count the steps under his breath. Eventually, they slowed again and returned to a gentle rocking, enjoying each other’s company. Finch could feel Albert growing tired, one hand clutched at his shoulder with the other pressed at his chest. “Hey Finch?” he murmured. “Hmm?” “I love you.” Finch blinked slowly, feeling a sweet warmth spread slowly through his chest. “I love you too, Albie.” And they stayed like that for a while, swaying in each other’s arms, letting the music wash over them, completely absorbed in each other’s presence. Albert, who was hiding his tiredness a little worse now –Finch was all but holding him up- could hear the steady beat of his boyfriend’s heart, which was not helping his sleepy state. “This is nice.” He mumbled into Finch’s dress shirt. “You also make a wonderful pillow, have I ever told you that?” “I don’t believe you have.” Finch chuckled quietly. “Well you do… you’re very warm… and comfortable…” he snuggled closer, and Finch watched as Albert’s eyes fluttered closed, he was just about to bend down and pick him up should he collapse in the middle of the ballroom, when a slightly muffled scream and the sound of a shattering wine glass sounded from the balcony, jerking Albert from his almost-sleep, steadying himself against Finch. The two of them looked toward the balcony, where the screaming was getting louder, before looking back at each other. “I think that may be our cue to leave,” Finch muttered glancing toward the balcony again. “I think you’re right,” Albert said, prying himself off of Finch and balancing on his own weak legs. Finch stole a glance toward the doorway that led out to the hall, then down to the exit and their freedom. “I’d say we can get the car around and be in bed in under half an hour if we leave now without any interruptions.” “Sounds like a plan,” Albert said as he stifled a yawn. Finch grabbed his wrist and gently tugged him toward the door, one eye on their escape and the other on the remaining guests, steering well clear of them. Their pace quickened as they passed through the door, turning into the hallway, and speeding toward the outside. Pushing open the large front doors, Finch helped Albert over the steps leading down to the garden where their car was waiting for them. “Hey, babe?” Albert asked as he and his boyfriend slid into the car. “Yeah?” “I’m never coming to one of these again.” Finch laughed. “Fair enough.” He took hold of Albert’s hand and brought it up to his mouth, brushing his lips over Albert’s knuckles, before driving off into the night, leaving the stuffy party and all the stuck-up people at it, behind.

--

(@gendistic42 here’s the context :3)

[babyloontrash]

The Worst (C.H.)

Summary: Bathroom sex with Calum on your wedding. SMUT

Words: 4k 

“And she asked me to take it easy on you, stating that you are not much of a dancer...” The elder woman shook her head in disbelief. Even in her heels, she was barely reaching the man’s shoulders, so she had to tilt her head to inspect him.

His lips were curled into a wide grin which seemed to falter only when he realized what she had just said.

“She really told you that?”

When she agreed, he had to scoff under his breath. “Unbelievable...” He searched for the lies-spreading creature in the crowd for a moment.  

It wasn’t difficult to find her. Not only was she impossible to miss while looking so heavenly in that dress,  but Calum could swear that there she appeared to radiate joy throughout the whole day.

No matter how many times he had stared at her, his throat always tightened and his heart performed an extra jump.

There was a part of him that still struggled to grasp everything that had happened today. This woman, the most incredible person he has ever met, had taken him for her husband. How wild was that?

The smile on his face grew when he saw her throw her head back with a laugh. Too bad the music was so loud. He couldn’t listen to that sweet sound she made, but that was okay. The promise was to stay together until death did them apart. By then he would hopefully get to hear her and those little snorts more times than he could even think of.

“Thank you for risking a dance with me then,” he said once his eyes finally peeled off the bride. “It means a lot, truly.” Calum smiled and leaned lightly into the soft touch when the woman held her hand up to stroke his cheek.

She joked about how at her age, she has to grasp every chance to dance with a young handsome man she gets.

“You are lucky I don’t have as much stamina as I once used to. Oh god, how I miss those days when I danced the nights away.” She remembered fondly with a smile while he escorted her back to the table.

The following plan was to find his wife. It was kinda ironic how little time they got to spend together on their wedding day.

She was faster, though. One step ahead, as always.

“Guess who?” A soft voice cooed next to his ear while his eyes were covered by a pair of hands.

He grinned and stayed silent for a second or two as if he really struggled to recognize her. Finally, he made a guess. It made her let out a huff, but her hands fell down from his face. Instead, they wrapped around his torso.

“Wrong,” she hummed against his skin as she pecked the side of his neck.

He had used her maiden name when taking a guess. To be honest, Calum wasn’t sure whether he did that on purpose, or it was just a matter of habit but hearing her correct him, reminding that her name is actually Hood made him grin like a fool.

“Oh, is it?” He played a buffoon and cocked his eyebrows up when he looked at her.

She nodded her head enthusiastically.

“It has been that way only for around six hours though, so I will let that error slide,” she offered kindly. Her mouth was inches away from his as she went in for a kiss but Calum stopped her.

“I can’t believe you told your aunt I can’t dance,” he complained, which only made her laugh.

“I mean... You should be thanking me. I was trying to save you from embarrassment, you know?” She defended herself when he pierced her with a look.

“And there I was, taking those damn dancing classes for you...”

“Which I knew nothing about!” She noted as they continued to stare at each other, their fingers laced together. “I still can’t believe you really did that. How cute... You really are whipped.”

“Shut up,” Calum shook his head and stopped the laugh which was starting to erupt from both of their throats by kissing her.

It was supposed to be only a short kiss that would stop her from laughing at him. But somehow it escalated into a nice make-out session.

They have done this so many times. Neither of them had the strength to pull away though. It reminded him of the first time. Both of them were terrified of what would happen next. The distress seemed so foolish now. Maybe that was because they had matured. Or maybe they realized that together they will always be alright.

The lips he was kissing were just as soft as usual. They moved against him in the same familiar way as they had done for years. And yet it still felt special somehow. Was the golden band on their fingers making such a difference?

He smiled against her mouth when he noticed that she was swinging back and forth to the rhythm of the music.

“You are a fucking dork,” he muttered before he kissed the tip of her nose.

“It’s too late for returns. I am officially yours now. You are stuck with me. Sorry.”

Calum watched her face for a second before he looked her up and down.

“I am sure I will manage. This is something I can work with.”

She jogged him. “Idiot.”

“That was a compliment!” Calum was quick to argue. Reaching his arms out, he tried to pull her close to him again while she just rolled her eyes.

“I mean it,” he added before pecking her lips. “Do you even have an idea how breath-taking you look?”

It didn’t take her longer than a second to reply. “I have heard a few comments,” she admitted with a tiny smile. “Little Zoe asked if I am an angel of some kind when she saw me.” That question had made her beam then when the small bub blurted it out and it warmed her heart even now.

Calum’s expression, on the other hand, didn’t seem too pleased.

“Don’t you see the angelic resemblance?” She put a pretended annoyance into her voice when asking that.

Quickly, her husband shook his head. “No, no. Of course that I do,” he assured her. “I’m just unsure how to feel about this whole thing.”

Her brows furrowed. What was that supposed to mean?

There was no need for any questions. Calum was more than happy to elaborate soon enough, behaving as dramatically as he could. He lowered his head to whisper near her ear, so nobody around could catch what was being said.

“With you being a celestial being now, and all that fancy stuff, how wrong is it that I want to fuck you?”

Of course. For someone who was believed to be so cool by many, he was pretty lame at times. To be honest, it didn’t even surprise her by now. Did it make her snort? Yes, but no matter how corny or not the guy in front of her was, she loved him.

“Very.” At last, she answered in amusement, gently ruffling the hair on the back of his head. “But...”

Calum slowly lifted his gaze to her face instead of the hem of her neckline.

“Since we are married, I guess it’s all right.”

As he watched her shrug carelessly, Calum had to grin for a while before he pressed his forehead down against her shoulder.

The pleasant smell of her perfume surrounded him, and he took a deep breath before muttering: “Don’t get me wrong. The reception is fun and all but I can’t wait to get you all alone.”

She gulped as these words reached her ears, which Calum took as an invitation to continue.

“Kiss you and touch you all over. Make you moan nice and loud about who you belong to.” His hand that was gripping her waist squeezed her harder as she squirmed. After he nipped on her skin, he was about to pull away, but something made him stop in his tracks.

“We don’t have to wait until the end of the reception.”

Calum wanted to ask her what she meant, but before he got to do that, she already started to walk away. His big brown eyes stayed glued to the leaving figure, and he caught himself stupefied by every single move her body made.

She checked over her shoulder if he was coming and when she found him standing still, she used her hand to gesture for him to follow her. A wide grin tugged on the corner of her mouth as he nodded, understanding the memo.

The timing couldn’t be worse though.

Just as Calum lost her from his sight completely, a pretty familiar tune came on. At any other

occasion, it would make him smile super bright. This was the song he and his mates used to sing on top of their lungs back in the day. It still had a special place in his heart. But right now he needed to join her in the bathroom. He brushed aside every brain cell that made him want to singalong and set out.

He almost got out of the bustling, and also a fairly tipsy crowd. The boys caught him sneaking out and ignored all of his objects and excuses that had to go to the bathroom. If they knew the reasoning behind it, they most probably wouldn’t delay him. It wasn’t like he would tell them he had to meet his spouse for a quick fuck though. By know, he knew them well enough to be sure that they would never let him live that down.

And so Calum sang and danced, while the lovely bride was waiting by the bathroom sink.

***

They could consider themselves lucky. When she got inside, the room with the stalls was entirely empty. Maybe she would be able to be as loud as Calum liked.

Only if that idiot hurried up. Seconds have passed and turned into minutes and she was still standing there alone. She couldn’t wrap her mind about what the hell was taking him so long. Or did he chicken out? Was having sex on his own wedding too much for mister I’ll-make-you-cum-with-my-fingers-while-your-parents-are-in-the-kitchen?  What a great disappointment.

She was surely losing her patience.

Ten more seconds. If he wouldn’t show up, she would just forget it and go back to the party.

“One… Two…,” She began counting in a hushed voice while she stared into the mirror.

On seven, the door finally opened, and she turned around.

“Well, look who decided to show up.”

Calum just let out a huff in a reaction to that comment and his shook head while he stepped forward. His cheeks were rosy and being the pain in the ass she was, she considered asking him whether he already had a quickie somewhere else.

As her mouth opened to speak though, Calum wasted no time before sliding his tongue past her lips. His hips pressed against her, pushing her against the sink while his hands cradled her face, keeping it in place. For a moment, she only dug her fingers into his sides through the white dress shirt he was wearing before she brought her hand higher. She guided one of his hands away from her cheek so she would gain more freedom in her movements.

He sighed out faintly. She kissed him back with more fierce and force now and their fingers remained laced together for a while before he got himself out of her hold and settled his hand on her breast.

By then, they were both short on breath, so when he pulled away, she made no signs of protest. The only thing she did was throwing her head back slightly so he could kiss her neck once his lips started to trace over her jaw. She was fully leaning against the sink now, gripping on its edge while his tongue and lips moved over her decollete. Calum was being careful, not leaving any marks, but the way he kissed her still sent shivers down her spine.

“This has been driving me crazy the whole day,” he admitted in a low voice, tugging on the neckline so it revealed more. She took in a sharp breath when he gently sucked on those parts of cleavage that were formerly hidden. His thigh was pressing right against her core with the way he was standing now. Even with all those layers between them, she tried to rub herself against him but she could scarcely feel it. A sigh of annoyance left her mouth, making Calum laugh. The wave of warm air on her skin tickled her lightly.

With her hands pushing against his chest, she made him step back, closer to the stalls.

They didn’t make it in though. Calum needed help with getting out of the jacket as it got stuck on the sleeve buttons of his shirt. He sent his wife a soft glare when she laughed at him.

“Sorry,” she hummed and put it down on the heating behind her. While she was making sure that it wouldn’t fall, he had already started to tug on the skirt of her dress, slowly lifting it up. “Fuck.” His glance had clearly landed on the garter belt she was wearing. He instructed her to hold the fabric and once she did, he moved his hand touch her thigh himself. The graze was nice and warm, and they kept looking at each other while his hand travelled higher and higher. Once he reached her panties, he simply pushed them to the side, causing her eyes to widen. Calum touched her softly, rubbing over her wetness before he began to insert one finger. It wasn’t even halfway in when she stopped him.

“Someone can walk in,” she reminded. Continuing inside the stall definitely seemed like a better idea.

The door quickly locked behind them. She reached towards the bulge in his pants while she searched for his lips again. Her teeth grazed over his lips as she unbuttoned his trousers, and when she snuck her hand under his boxers, Calum didn’t even have a chance to make any noise since all the possible sounds were muffled by her tongue in his mouth. The longer she touched him though, the pre-cum already spread all over the tip, the more desperate for her he was. He nudged her a bit so her back pressed against the stall. She was now trapped between him and the wall and all the movements on his dick stopped as he started to pull the skirt up again. Once it was high enough, he hooked his fingers around the band of her panties and tugged them down. He helped her step out of them and pushed them into his back pocket.

She moaned when she could feel his hand on her cunt once more.

“Fuck me.”

“Fuck me what?” The rubbing on her clit stopped.

Her hips started to rock, so there would be at least some friction. “Fuck me, please,” she yielded and Calum smiled.

He stroked her clitoris a little longer before he gave her pussy a light slap. It made her twitch, which was a reaction he enjoyed. Sadly, he didn’t get to repeat this move since she tugged on his pants and boxers so they hung low on his hips, revealing his cock.

“There’s not much time.”

He knew she was right; it probably wouldn’t take too long before someone would start looking for them.

One of her legs was propped up on the toilet when she pulled him closer to her. Soon, the tip of his cock slid over her wet slits and then he finally thrust forward.

Within just a few moves, Calum found a pace enjoyable for both of them. A groan escaped his throat when she lowered his head by tugging on his tie.

She smiled a little. “You like this?”

There was only a tiny nod as a reply, but she still managed to catch it, even though the friction between her thighs was becoming more and more pleasurable.

She wrapped more of that tie around her hand so she had a proper hold of it while she held him close.

Since their faces were inches from each other, meeting for a kiss was the most natural thing to do and he got to experience her moaning into his mouth. The pace of those thrusts gradually sped up. When he slid one of his hands from her waist to her clit, she pulled away from him to whimper out.

She still had the tie tight in her grasp and when Calum spoke out, she could feel the warm breath on her lips.

“What a dirty bride you are,” he commented playfully. If there wasn’t his hand rubbing circles against the sensitive bud, she would have told him to shut up. The teasing tone was the last of her concerns since her legs had started to shake lightly.

“Are you going to cum for me?” He asked against her mouth.

“Mhhm.” That was the only thing she got out before another whimper slipped past her lips.

Her walls began to tighten around him and Calum himself had to groan out.

It was awful for both of them when he pulled out but making her turn around, and get both of her feet on the ground right now, was probably the safest way to go.

“Such a pretty ass. Who does it belong to?” His hand stroked her ass cheek before he dug his fingers into it harshly as she held her skirt up.

“You, baby,” she moaned out while his cock teased her cunt. Calum had pressed it against the entrance multiple times but didn’t push himself properly into her.

After his affirmation, he did. She didn’t see the rough thrust coming, and it made her whole body buckle. The sound of his name echoed through the bathroom.

They were lucky that it didn’t happen just a moment later. Someone walked in the bathroom and it was a miracle that Calum covered her mouth fast enough to muffle any sounds.

“Quiet,” he whispered near her ear. His cock stayed inside her when he stopped thrusting. Hopefully, the woman, whoever it was, would leave soon.

But him being deep inside her like this was driving them both crazy.

No one could blame him for not being strong enough. With his jaw clenched, he started thrusting again, steadily getting back to the pace where they left off. He kept his hand on her mouth, the other holding her hips still.

“Open your mouth.”

She did. Calum guided two fingers inside and gulped when her tongue swirled around them.

“Do not make a sound.”

After this warning, he pulled his hand away and brought it to her clit instead. She was doing well. For about a minute.

“Is everything okay? Do you need any help?” The woman asked after she heard a loud whimper from their stall.

“What did I tell you?” Calum said in a low voice. His hand disappeared from her clit for a second and his movements stopped. She did not understand why until the pair of lace panties she had been wearing earlier was swinging in front of her face. With just a simple nod of his head, he made her part her lips before he stuffed them inside, using them as a gag.

Even with them in her mouth, it was still difficult to hold herself back and be completely quiet when he continued fucking her.

Finally, they heard running water and eventually a slam of doors, but he didn’t tell her to take them out. Not yet.

She had reached her orgasm within the next minute or two, and it was only after he had made her legs shake that he took the panties out.

“Too bad, you couldn’t see yourself. You looked fucking hot,” Calum commented. “Do you think she knows it was us?”

“Don’t know. But she wouldn’t be thinking anything if you had stopped.”

“You were close! And we have little time.” He defended himself.

“How kind of you.” There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice but he pretended not to notice.

She looked down at his cock. He was still hard. Clearly, he really cared more about her hitting her high than himself. Calum sighed heavily when she wrapped her hand around his shaft and started to pump him.

“Do you think there’s a time for me to blow you?”

Before he answered, she was already getting down.

“Fuck.”

She ran her tongue along the length before she closed her lips around him. He watched her carefully as she took more of him into her sweet mouth and growled when she sucked as she moved back.

When he brushed her hair away from her face, he tried to be careful so he wouldn’t mess the hairdo she had too much. As a thank you, she flashed him a bright smile when she didn’t have him in her mouth. Calum returned the smile to her, but soon his jaw dropped when she used her thumb to brush over the tip.

Her lips and tongue caressed his balls when they heard the door open again. It was more than just a one woman now.

Two, at least. That’s how many voices they recognised, anyway. They seemed to stay by the mirror though, probably only freshening themselves up a bit.

Slowly, she continued to blow him, mostly just licking the shaft and the head with her tongue.

“What’s that thing over there?” One of the women suddenly asked, and they noticed the steps come closer to them.

The eyes above her widened. After teasing the tip with her tongue she took him into her mouth again, deeper than she had done before.

“It’s a jacket.”

She looked up at him to see Calum’s reaction. His lips were pressed firmly together as he stared down at her. The look he was sending her was rather clear. ‘Don’t you dare to do anything.’

“A male one.”

She sucked more as she pulled away from him. Only to force her mouth on his cock again right after.

Calum let out a grunt. Luckily enough, one of the women just started coughing.

“What is that doing here?”

Looking up at him, she continued sucking him. When their gazes met, he shook his head in disbelief and better turned his face towards the ceiling, closing his eyes. If her mouth wasn’t full, she would have chuckled. But since she couldn’t do that, she settled on making things more difficult for him. At one point, he even tried to push her away. Her nails dug into his thigh though, and he immediately changed his mind.

The women outside continued chatting about lots of things.  About the jacket, the weather, the food. Stuff they could be discussing anywhere and yet they stayed here.

Calum let out a low hum, biting into his fist before he came and salty taste spread on her tongue.

They couldn’t leave right now. None of them was a damn fortune teller, but they were sure they would receive some weird looks. She used the time to clean him up and then took his hand as he helped her get back onto her feet.

He shook his head disbelievingly once they stood in front of each other face to face. There were marks on his fist from his teeth; she kissed them better.

A minute or so later, the women finally left.

“You are...”

“Amazing. Incredible. The best thing that has ever happened to you,” she suggested, grinning.

Chuckling, Calum had no choice than to nod. “Yes. But the word I was originally going for was the worst,” he admitted with a soft chuckle and leaned down to kiss her.

During that, he unlocked the door, and he pulled away just before walking out. Her panties still in his hand.

“By the way, I am keeping these.”

[vexedtonightmares]

could you write an au where Elu meet on Lucas's birthday? 💜

hold me closer, tiny dancer

Seventeen. It was an odd age, not quite old enough yet but not quite young enough anymore. Lucas wasn’t even sure of anyone knew it was his birthday, aside from Yann. His parents did, obviously, but he knew not to expect anything from either of them. He didn’t blame his mother, he really didn’t, but it made him a bit sad at times, mostly when he was younger. At this point his birthday was just another day and he hoped Yann would let him ignore it in peace. 

“Kitten?” He heard Mika’s voice a minute before he entered the room, plopping himself down on the bed. Lucas wondered briefly if Yann had told Emma who’d told Manon who’d told Mika that it was his birthday. Lucas poked his head up from where he’d been lying on a mountain of pillows warily. “Did you clean the bathroom yet?” Mika continued, “It’s your turn, you know.”

Great, just what he wanted to do that day. “No, I forgot, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, flopping his head back down. 

“Well… can you do it now, then?” Mika prompted. 

Yes, he could do it now, but no, he didn’t want to do it now. “Can it wait until tomorrow?” He may not have wanted anyone to do anything for his birthday, but he did miss some of the perks that came along with it, like not having to clean the bathroom. 

“Lucas…”

“I have to buy more cleaning supplies,” Lucas said, pulling the excuse out of his ass. He honestly had no idea what kind of cleaning supplies they had, or what kind they might need for the bathroom. Whatever the case, Mika nodded like he understood. 

“That’s right, that’s right. Do you want me to ask Lisa and Manon to split the cost?” As much as Lucas complained about Mika, he really was a great roommate. Lucas had broken down a bit earlier in the year after his fourth consecutive month of late rent and told Mika that his father always conveniently forgot to send him money, even for food, and that he was doing the best that he could even though his best wasn’t good enough. Mika had been surprisingly understanding, and had allowed Lucas to pay his rent later so long as he paid it eventually. 

Lucas shook his head. “I can go out and buy whatever we need and then I’ll let you guys know how much it was when I get back.”

“Ok,” Mika said, patting his hair lightly, “I’ll make you some breakfast before you go!”

Oh, he was supposed to go the store now? He didn’t want to, but it was a decent way of avoiding everyone until he could be alone again and wallow in self pity. Not that he wallowed in his self pity that often… definitely not. Fine, he would go to the store. 

He didn’t worry about getting dressed all fancy, throwing on a pair of joggers and a red t shirt. It was hot as hell outside but he was in no mood for shorts and the store was just down the street anyway. 

When he emerged from his room to eat breakfast before he left Mika was looking at him a bit funny. “What?” he snapped.

“Nothing, you just seem more melancholic than grumpy and I don’t know why.” Mika narrowed his eyes, inspecting Lucas from every angle. 

Lucas rolled his eyes. “Where’s Manon?”

“With the girls.” Mika was still looking at him like he was a puzzle to solve, and it was really getting on his nerves. He shoveled down the rest of the eggs Mika had made him as quickly as possible, grabbing his phone and his wallet from his room and hurrying out the door without so much as a goodbye, hearing Mika screech with indignation as the door slammed. 

It was a bit hotter than he’d anticipated, so he rolled up his pants to the ankle, not really caring if he looked like a mess or not. It was just the store, it wasn’t like he had anyone to impress there. 

The air conditioning inside was quite the sweet relief, though. He had no idea where the cleaning supplies were located and somehow found himself standing in front of an aisle of birthday cards. He stared at them for a minute, trying to remember if he’d ever received one in his life. A voice behind him startled him out of his thoughts. 

“Picking birthday cards should be an extreme sport, huh?” 

Lucas turned to face the voice and woah. That was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in his life. He cursed himself for his stupid outfit, taking in the boy in front of him with his effortless gravity defying hair, blue gray eyes, smile brighter than the sun, and heavy bomber jacket. “Aren’t you hot?” he asked, reddening as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He raced to backtrack, “Like, temperature wise. It’s the middle of July.”

Beautiful boy shrugged. “I run cold, I guess.”

Lucas continued staring at him, unsure of what to say. Why were they even talking in the first place? The boy continued, eyes looking down to Lucas’ legs. “I could ask you the same, who wears sweatpants in July?”

“Me, I guess,” Lucas answered dumbly, not even registering the words as they came out of his mouth. 

“And who are you?”

Lucas narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

The boy laughed softly, eyes flicking from Lucas to the ground and back up again. “What’s your name?”

Oh. “Lucas. You?”

“Eliott.” Eliott. Lucas thought maybe that was his favorite name in the world. 

Eliott nodded back to the birthday cards. “I can help you pick one, if you want. I’ve been told my card picking skills are unmatched.”

“Oh, no, I’m not—” Lucas struggled to articulate why he’d been frozen in front of the birthday cards when he never intended on buying one. “It’s my birthday,” he confessed. “Happy birthday! How old are you?” Eliott asked excitedly. Lucas would probably have been a bit weirded out by the enthusiasm if it was anyone other than Eliott. 

“Seventeen.”

“And you’re getting yourself a card?” Eliott asked, then nodded in appreciation. “Power move.”

“No, I’m not getting myself a card. I was looking for the cleaning supplies,” he said defensively. 

Eliott leaned a bit closer to him and whispered, “I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for in the birthday card aisle.”

“Shut up!” Lucas was laughing, why was he laughing? Why was Eliott so easy to talk to? Why was he maybe fantasizing about being with Eliott in a completely non platonic way, just a little bit? “I don’t suppose you know where the cleaning supplies are?”

“Of course I do,” Eliott said in mock offense, putting a hand up to his chest. “Follow me, dancing queen.”

Eliott took off at a brisk pace and Lucas had to jog to catch up. “Dancing queen?” he asked, slightly out of breath once he reached Eliott. 

“Yeah,” Eliott shrugged, “You know. Dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen,” he sang, paying no mind to people giving him weird looks. 

“I am not the dancing queen,” Lucas replied adamantly. God only knew what his friends would do with that nickname. 

Eliott shook his head and ruffled the front of Lucas’ hair. “You are.”

“I am most decidedly not.” 

“Fine.” 

Lucas looked at Eliott sharply. He’d mostly been teasing, he really didn’t care what Eliott called him as long as Eliott was still talking to him. So much for not running into anyone important at the store. 

Eliott was smiling mischievously when he said, “Tiny dancer.”

“Go back to dancing queen please,” Lucas requested, widening his eyes in mock fear. Tiny dancer, huh. If it was anyone else, Lucas would have been mad, but Eliott was so endearing that it was impossible. 

“No can do,” Eliott said with a sigh, “I’m attached to tiny dancer now. Because you’re tiny. And also the dancing queen.”

“Yeah I get it, doesn’t mean I like it,” Lucas grumbled, and Eliott giggled at his grumpiness. Lucas had to look away from him in order to maintain the illusion that he wasn’t enjoying this as much as Eliott. To his surprise, they were now in the cleaning aisle. He felt a surge of disappointment, he’d sort of been hoping Eliott would lead him everywhere but the cleaning aisle, just to hang out together longer. Then again, Eliott probably had other things to do that day. 

Lucas cleared his throat. “Um, thanks, for guiding me.”

“No problem. Anytime,” Eliott answered with a grin. Anytime. Did anytime really mean anytime? 

Lucas didn’t want to ask, so he just gathered up all the things he thought he might need, unsure of which supplies were for the bathroom and which ones weren’t. Well, if he got the wrong stuff, maybe he could come back and run into Eliott again. 

Eliott started to walk away, and when Lucas looked up he held up a hand. “I’ll be back in a minute!”

He was back in five minutes, not one, but he came back. “Have everything you need?” he asked, looking at the various supplies in Lucas’ arms. Lucas nodded hesitantly. 

“Perfect,” Eliott said, “I can guide you to the register.”

“You don’t work here, do you?” Lucas couldn’t believe it had just occurred to him. Maybe Eliott was just this friendly to all the customers.  

Eliott frowned. “No, why do you ask?”

Maybe not, then. “No reason.”

Eliott stood with Lucas while he checked out, almost like they’d been shopping together. Lucas allowed his mind to wander briefly, imagining the two of them going shopping together regularly. It was such a domestic fantasy that it almost made Lucas blush a little bit, avoiding Eliott’s eyes. Eliott grabbed one of his bags for him and led him outside, handing it back once they were back in the sweltering heat. 

“So this is where we say goodbye, then, tiny dancer?” Eliott asked. I don’t want it to be, Lucas tried to say, but nothing came out. Eliott smiled at him briefly before turning and walking away without so much as a backwards glance. 

Lucas stood in that spot in front of the store much longer than he cared to admit, staring at Eliott’s retreating figure. They would probably never see each other again, Paris was a big city, but Lucas hoped and prayed they would. How could someone like that jaunt so casually into his life only to disappear without a trace?

It was only when he finally returned to his flat that he realized that Eliott had never actually bought anything. What had he been doing at the store? Lucas frowned, wondering if maybe he’d just imagined the whole interaction as he emptied the bags, hand brushing against something that felt like paper. 

A card, he realized, as he pulled it out, with the words Tiny Dancer written on the envelope. His heart surged a bit as he opened it up and saw a birthday card illustrated with a hedgehog wearing a party hat. He opened the card and read the inside, looking around after he finished to make sure no one could see him blush.

Lucas (aka dancing queen aka tiny dancer),

I hope this isn’t weird, but you seemed like you could really use a birthday card. I wish I could celebrate the whole day with you and I don’t really know why, but alas I have work later and I wouldn’t be able to give you the birthday you deserved. I’m also a bit reluctant to admit that the only reason I came into the store was to meet you. I saw you through the window and before I knew it I was standing behind the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen talking about birthday cards. I really liked talking to you, maybe I can talk to you again sometime? 

Happy birthday,

Eliott

p.s. The hedgehog looks like you

There was a phone number scribbled at the bottom and Lucas finally submitted to the grin that had been trying to force its way across his face. He entered in Eliott’s number immediately, not waiting even a minute to text him, against his better judgement. 

Lucas: Hey, stalker, thanks for the card

Eliott: am i to assume that this is my tiny dancer?

Lucas: Only if you stop calling me that

Eliott: when you turn 18 i’ll think about it

Lucas: Fair enough

Eliott: speaking of your birthday… i can’t do anything today but would you want to celebrate your birthday with me tomorrow? 

Lucas: That actually sounds really nice

Eliott: :)

Eliott: it’s a date

Lucas blinked at his phone, then laughed to himself slightly. Maybe his birthday wasn’t so bad after all.

[ghostofviperwrites]

One Word

Requested by: @monstersmaid

Featuring:  Evil, Naito, Sanada, Bushi/FC

Category:   Smut

Word Count: 3975

Warnings: M/M/M/M/F smut.  No slash. Language.  Drinking. 

23.          “I deserve something nice for putting up with you.”

Aya had to hold back her laugh as Manamie, the head of Human Resources, spoke with worry evident in her eyes.  One month in and she had called Aya into her office to make sure everything was running smoothly as Los Ingobernables newest personal assistant.  At the start of her employment Aya had been warned about these boys, but soon found it all overboard.   They were sweet as kittens far as she was concerned. 

“No need to worry Manamie.  I have these boys eating out of my hand.” Aya said with a cocky grin as she left her office. 

Aya didn’t understand what all the fuss was about.  Flash them a pretty smile, a little flirting and they were putty.   All that was needed to keep them in line was a strong confident woman who could play their own game better than them.  

“Hi boys,” Aya greeted with a wide smile as she walked in their locker room, making sure she didn’t show any outward reaction to Bushi standing in just a towel or Naito’s naked ass on full display as he ruffled through his duffle bag. 

“You ready for your interview Sanada?” Aya asked the quiet man, bringing his attention up from his phone.  He stared at her speculatively for a moment and Aya briefly worried that he was going to give her some of the infamous attitude she had been warned about.   Instead he nodded and turned to grab his suit jacket.  

“What did Manamie want?” Naito asked as he stepped into his trunks. 

“Oh she was just surprised I had lasted a month with you guys with no issues. Wanted to make sure everything was running smoothly.”  Aya told him.  “Nothing important.”

“You’ve lasted a month?”  Evil spoke up, his dark eyes focusing on their assistant.  “I didn’t realize it had been that long already.”  He looked around the room at his brothers. 

“One month.” Evil said again his hand raising to stroke the beard on his chin.   “Interesting. Maybe Aya deserves something for lasting so long.” 

 “I deserve something nice for putting up with you.” Aya deadpanned with a grin, the group of them laughing a bit too heartily at her little joke.  It wasn’t that funny.

“I’m sure we can come up with something nice for the woman who has us eating out her hand.” Evil said softly.

It wasn’t until she was walking down the hallway with Sanada that it occurred to her that Evil had used the exact phrasing she had used with Manamie.  Shaking it off as a coincidence Aya herded Sanada into the car to drive him over to his interview with Tokyo Sports Magazine. 

He ignored her for most of the ride as was his usual M.O., nose buried in the phone while she snuck glances at his perfect profile from the driver’s seat.   It wasn’t until Aya pulled into a parking space that she noticed his attention focused on her.

“We should celebrate.”  Sanada said flashing a smile that stole Aya’s breath.  If she had been standing Aya was certain her knees would be weak.  She hadn’t been the recipient of that particular smile before and damn if it wasn’t lethal.   

“Celebrate?” Aya asked after a moment, not quite sure what they had to celebrate.  

“It’s been a long time since someone made it to the one month mark with us.”  Sanada said casually as he climbed out of the car.  Ava hurriedly locked the car and practically jogged to keep up with his long strides, finally reaching his side.  “You should let me take you out tonight.” 

Her steps stuttered noticeably, Sanada’s smile shifting into a smirk making her try to mask her stumble by pretending she got a rock in her shoe.  Sanada graciously offered his arm for Aya to hold onto while she shook the invisible pebble from her shoe, hanging on a bit too long for a professional relationship. 

“Age-ha?  9:00?” He asked flashing that killer smile again that had her readily agreeing with a wide grin that was surely too eager but Aya couldn’t contain it.   Not only was she going on a date with the Sanada, but he was taking her to the most exclusive club there was.  One that was impossible to get into unless you knew the right people.   Aya was practically bouncing throughout the rest of the day feeling on top of the world. 

When they made it back to the venue and Sanada gave Aya the rest of the afternoon off to get herself ready, it was icing on the cake.  Aya had been worrying whether she had anything that wouldn’t make her stick out like a sore thumb in the upscale atmosphere at Age-Ha and now she had time to go buy a new outfit just for tonight.  Something that was going to blow Sanada’s socks off and make him not even look at another woman.

When Aya answered the door later that evening, the way Sanada’s eyes raked over her form when he saw her in the deep purple and gold Prada mini dress was well worth blowing an entire paycheck on it.  She would be eating noodles for the next month, but it was money well spent.  Besides Aya was hoping this would blossom into more than one date and Sanada could feed her a few times to offset the cost.

Aya smiled adoringly at Sanada as he handed her into the low Lamborghini, his hand lingering on her waist and brushing over her ass as she slid in.   He didn’t talk much on the drive which Aya didn’t mind. She was growing used to Sanada’s penchant for quiet.  As they drove, Aya reflected on the evening ahead instead of trying to make conversation, working to suppress the giddy giggles that wanted to fill the air as she stared out the lights flashing past the windows.

At Age-Ha

Evil sipped on his scotch as he watched Naito pacing around Sanada’s private room at the club, tugging at the collar of his button down shirt with a frown on every turn. 

“I can’t believe you wore one of your ring suits here. Where’s your class Naito?”  Bushi scoffed, rolling his eyes to make his thoughts about Naito’s suit choice abundantly clear as he smoothed down the coat of his own Louis Vuitton suit.

“Those are the only suits I have.”  Naito argued with a flick of his middle finger in Bushi’s direction.  “I hate these places.  Gotta wear a fucking suit.  Sanada pays enough to this club.  We should be able to wear our underwear if we want.” 

“Morons.”  Evil said with a shake of his head at his two arguing brothers.  “You’re in a private room now Naito.  Take the shit off if you want. Dress code only applies down on the floor.” 

Naito did just that, making quick work of shedding his white suit revealing the tank top and athletic shorts hidden underneath before tossing it aside in a heap.  Now that he was comfortable he lay across the lounger after grabbing a bottle from the bucket of ice in the middle of the seating area.   He wasn’t a huge fan of the fancy imported beers this place carried, but they didn’t stock the cheap domestics he preferred so he would make do.  

Bushi poured himself a glass of wine then moved over to the windows overlooking the dance floor.  Bushi wasn’t much of a dancer, but he did enjoy watching the bodies writhing on each other.  The upper crusts of society and they reduced themselves to nothing more than panting bodies, no different than those they looked down upon.  

“Sanada’s here.”  Bushi announced as he spotted their blonde haired friend walk through the entrance with Aya in tow.

Down on the floor Sanada ushered Aya through the crowd towards the stairs that lead to the private quarters.  Hand on her hip he guided her up the marble staircase and turned down the hallway leading to his suite.  

“Oh,” Aya pulled up short as she stepped inside finding all of her charges scattered throughout the room.  “I didn’t realize they were all going to be here.”  

“What?  Did you think this was a date?” Sanada scoffed leaving her side and joining Bushi near the window to survey the crowd below. 

Aya stood hesitantly in the doorway feeling off kilter with the sudden change in plans.  Not once had Sanada said anything to lead her to believe this wasn’t a date.   She felt a bit foolish for assuming, but wasn’t going to let it ruin her evening.  Plastering on a smile Aya moved over to the opulent seating area, sitting perched at the very end of one of the sectionals.

“Aya, don’t be shy.”  Naito called from the other end.  “Come join us.”

He patted the space between him and Evil expectantly. 

Aya pushed aside the nerves bubbling over and stood, walking slowly towards the two men, carefully stepping over Evil’s feet and settling on the edge of the cushion.  

A startled cry flew from her lips as Naito grabbed her and pulled her back to sit fully on the couch his arm draped over her shoulders.  

“Stop being so uptight,” Naito laughed as Evil leaned forward to pour Aya a glass of wine.  “This is supposed to be fun.” 

Her questions were cut off as a waitress knocked and quietly entered the room, approaching Sanada for instructions.  Aya smiled at Evil as he handed her a glass of red wine, humming in appreciation as she took a sip of the rich liquid.  

The waitress made her way over to take their orders followed by Sanada and Bushi who took up the half of the couch Aya had vacated.   Only after she left the room and Aya found herself the center of attention did her nerves return.  

“This is a pretty dress,” Naito said softly, his index finger slipping under the shoulder strap and stroking her skin.   “Did you buy it just to impress Sanada?” 

Aya blushed because that was exactly what she had done.  Her earlier embarrassment returning as she remembered Sanada’s scoffing words. 

“You know Sanada doesn’t date right?”  Bushi spoke up.  “He just fucks.” 

“You would think you had picked that up in the past month."  Naito said with a slow shake of his head as he chuckled.

Sanada smirked, leaning back against the couch and sipping at the glass of wine in his hand as he stared at Aya with an unreadable expression. 

“Did you think you were special?”  Evil asked, his voice low and deep forcing Aya to strain to hear him, leaning slightly in his direction.  “The girl who has LIJ eating out of the palm of her hand?  Did you think you could tame him?” 

“Why do you keep saying that?” Aya asked.  “I never said that.” 

Evil’s countenance shifted, his thick lips curving into a sneer and fingers clenching as he glared at her.

“Don’t lie to me.”  Evil snapped.  “You think Manamie was going to keep your little secret?  That she wouldn’t let me know exactly what you said in that meeting?  Manamie answers to me.” 

Aya jumped as Naito’s arm tightened around her and pulled her closer to his side.  Naito’s fingers danced tantalizingly up her arms leaving goosebumps in their wake leaving Aya struggling to focus amid the feelings that were getting awoken by Naito’s soft touch.

“Don’t be mean Evil,” Naito chastised him grinning as the stiffness in Aya’s shoulders minutely retreated.  “Aya was just running her mouth.  She didn’t mean it.  Did you Aya?”  Naito’s hand came up to rest on the crook of her neck, his thumb stroking over the soft skin in a soothing motion. 

“No.  I didn’t mean it,” She implored Evil to believe her with wide eyes.  Having the intimidating man angry at her was not a situation she wanted to court.   “I was just trying to make myself look good.  I mean, she is my boss.”

“I’m your boss first.”  Evil sniffed but he leaned back seemingly relaxing which calmed Aya’s nerves considerably now that he seemed less angry. 

Aya let herself be held against Naito, relaxing into his hold.  He wasn’t the man whose arms she had thought she would be in tonight, but Naito was far from a disappointment. Plus he really seemed to appreciate her dress given the way his hands kept flitting over it.   Given that Sanada had barely paid her any mind since they had arrived this was probably an upgrade all around. 

Food was delivered and the drinks flowed, conversation passing around Aya as she nibbled at the decadent food, eyes closing in pleasure as flavors exploded in her mouth.  Naito stayed in constant contact with her body, his fingers leaving a trail of desire in their wake as the danced along her skin, skipping from her arms to her face and down to her thighs never lingering in any area for long and making her fidget as he left her wanting.  

“Were you planning to get fucked tonight Aya?”  Evil’s blunt inquiry startled Aya out of her pleasant haze, her dark eyes flying to his face. 

“I’m not going to answer that,” She said with a stubborn tilt of her chin.  “It’s none of your business.”  

Naito shifted wrapping an arm around Aya’s waist and pulling her onto his lap, his hand dipping down to slide along her calf and up her thigh.

“Freshly shaven legs,” Naito confirmed as Aya wriggled in his grip, her face turning beet red under their scrutiny.   “Now if you’re wearing some sexy panties then we know you were going to spread your legs for Sanada.” 

Aya looked over at Sanada who was watching the interaction with amusement clear on his face. 

“Let me go Naito.”  Aya ordered.  “What I’m wearing doesn’t confirm anything.”  

“So you are wearing sexy panties.”  Bushi affirmed.  “No way you put those on not thinking about Sanada’s dick.”  

“Yet there she is letting Naito paw all over her.”  Sanada pointed out.  “How quickly her affections shifted.” 

“You’re the one who said this wasn’t a date.”  Aya argued.  “And you’ve ignored me since we got here.  I’m supposed to sit around waiting for you?” 

Sanada chuckled, swirling the wine in his glass as he stared at her until she squirmed uncomfortably.

“I don’t have to pay attention to you.”  He said confidently.  “All I have to do is say the word and your lips will be around my dick.” 

Aya scoffed rolling her eyes at the arrogant man, her attention focused on Sanada and barely noticing Naito pushing the straps of her dress down her arms. 

“I don’t care what word you say.  My lips won’t be anywhere near your dick.”  Aya sneered feeling infuriated as Sanada simply shrugged clearly not believing her.  

Naito’s lips on her neck brought Aya’s attention back to him and Aya smiled smugly at Sanada as she leaned into his touch.  Naito sucked deeply on the flesh of her throat, his tongue pressing into the skin while his hands continued pushing down her dress. 

“Naito!”  Aya chastised her arms flying to her chest when she realized how low he had pulled it, her nipples barely concealed.  One more tug and she would have been spilling out of her top.

“Shhh, baby.”  Naito murmured kissing her neck.  “Let me make you feel good.”  Aya’s protests were swallowed by a gasp as Naito bit her neck and his hands moved to her breasts.  Pushing aside her hands he squeezed them tightly, his fingers finding her pebbled nipples and giving them a firm pinch.  

“Don’t you want to show Sanada what he’s not going to touch?”  Naito cajoled.  “Make him stare at you, wishing he could have you? You want to show him what he’s missing out on don’t you?” 

In Aya’s head somehow Naito’s words made sense, her pride rankled at Sanada thinking he could treat her like garbage and still fuck her.  She could show him what he wouldn’t get to touch.   Sensing her capitulation Naito grinned behind her yanking down her dress and baring her tits to the room.  

She felt smug as the center of attention, her eyes focusing on Sanada with a tilt of her chin.  She grew frustrated when he didn’t seem overly enamored of her charms.  She wanted him to stare at her with lust, to beg her to fuck him.   Throwing her head back against Naito’s shoulder Aya moaned loudly as he pinched her nipples, pulling them with a tight grip as he mauled her neck.  

Another pair of hands on her knees had her eyes flowing up, looking down at Evil kneeling on the floor and pushing her legs apart with ease. 

“Don’t fight him,” Naito’s voice in her ear had Aya’s attention diverted.  “Just think how jealous Sanada is going to get when you let Evil touch you too.”  

Her mind was yelling at her to put a stop to this, but her stubborn pride was finding logic in Naito’s argument.  Pushing her misgivings aside Aya allowed Evil to kneel between her thighs, his hands pushing her dress up her legs until it was bunched at her waist.   The obscenely expensive silk panties she had bought just for tonight were ripped from her and thrown aside without care, Aya’s protests lost in Naito’s mouth as he jerked her chin around to kiss her. 

Evil’s fingers found her soaking heat, two thick long digits pressing inside her making Aya moan as they curled deep within her pussy.  She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Evil as he pumped his fingers in and out of her cunt, his dark eyes locked on her face as she panted under his ministrations.  The sight of the intimidating dominant man on his knees before her was too much for Aya and with a strangled cry she came around his fingers.  

With a half-smile Evil pulled his fingers free and grabbed Aya by the hips yanking her body to his.   Naito shuffled to his feet, dropping his shorts to the floor and sitting back down as Evil flipped Aya around and pushed her head towards Naito’s cock.  Naito had her lips wrapped around him in quick order as Evil pushed Aya up onto the couch so she was kneeling in front of his face, her pussy spread open for everyone to see.  Lowering his face to her folds Evil swiped his tongue along her slit making Aya shudder as she swallowed Naito’s cock. 

Grabbing her hips Evil held her in place as he worked her cunt with his mouth and tongue making Aya whimper around Naito as he guided her head along his dick.   She cried out as Evil’s lips attached to her clit and sucked hard his tongue pushing at her clit, hands holding her firm so she couldn’t squirm away as pleasure roared through her.   Naito kept his hand firmly on her head, keeping her sucking on his cock as Evil’s mouth tormented her.  

With a sharp bite to her pulsing clit Evil removed his mouth, swiping his tongue through her folds and making Aya orgasm once again.  Pulling her off his cock Naito swung Aya around to face Evil who climbed to his feet, hand searching for his buckle and freeing his cock.  Aya gaped at the thickness pressed against her lips, wondering how she was going to fit it in her mouth.  She wasn’t given much time to wonder as Naito pulled her back to sit on his cock, sinking himself into her dripping heat as Evil stepped forward and pressed his cock past her lips.   Aya gagged around him as the weight of his dick pressed her tongue down Evil rocking his hips to burying himself into the back of her throat.

Eyes watering she breathed through her nose and tried to relax around him as Evil set the pace he wanted his movements in contrast to the thrusting motions of Naito below her.  

Bushi appeared to the side of her, his cock in hand and without thinking Aya reached for it, wrapping around the length, barely able to get her hand around him.   She had heard that Bushi was packing a huge member, and she was experiencing it firsthand.   Briefly her mind wandered to Sanada, her view blocked by Evil’s thick body and she wondered whether he was enjoying watching them use her.  If he was aching to join in just yet.  

Naito’s thrusts turned erratic, his hands tightening on her ass snapping at Evil to give him her mouth.   Evil pulled free, letting Naito yank her head back around once again and shoving his cock in her mouth.  Pulling at her hips Evil lined himself with her hole and thrust to the hilt while Naito moved out of the way for Bushi to settle on the couch.  Naito pulled on his shorts and grabbed another beer, laying out on the lounger again as he watched the two men take their turns with Aya.  

Evil fucked her hard and deep, his nails raking down her back making Aya cry out with every pass around Bushi’s cock.  Bushi reached beneath Aya’s body and played with her tits his fingers pulling at her nipples, twisting and teasing them into hardened pebbles as she bobbed along his length, struggling to get it all into her mouth.  

Pulling free of her pussy Evil sat down on the couch and pulled Aya’s mouth to his cock, her hand automatically reaching to stroke Bushi, her movements stuttering as she finally got a glimpse of Sanada.  Only he wasn’t panting after her like she had hoped.  No, his attention was focused solely on the pretty waitress he had bent over the back of the couch, his cock buried deep inside her, his back facing Aya.  

She was caught off guard when Evil spurted into her throat, choking around his seed and coughing sending it splattering back over his stomach and dick. 

Furious Evil grabbed her hair and twisted it around his fist and pushed her head back to his lap. 

“Clean it.”  He ordered holding her in place until every drop was licked off his body.   Only then did he push her back to Bushi who had her straddling his cock in no time, grinning as Aya winced as his cock stretched her already sore pussy. 

Bushi brought her mouth to his, tongue pushing past her lips as Aya got comfortable and began moving her body on his, sliding along his length as Bushi’s fingers played with her clit.   His mask felt strangely erotic against her face, and Aya moaned as she stroked his tongue with hers, mind racing as she imagined what this mysterious man looked like beneath his mask.   Bushi kept the pressure on her clit, rubbing her raw as she chased another orgasm, crying out and clamping around his cock as she came for the third time barely coming down before Bushi pushed her down on her knees and the tip of his cock just past her lips before he coated her tongue.  

Breathing heavily Aya turned on her knees catching view of Sanada once again and watching as he pulled out of the waitress and dismissed her with a sharp command.   The waitress pulled down her skirt and scurried from the room leaving Aya alone with the men again.  

She stared at Sanada with wide eyes focused on his hand that was stroking his cock still glistening with the waitresses’s juices.  Her endorphins were singing inside her, body pulsing from the pleasure it had received thus far and she was hungry for more. 

“Suck.”  He ordered Aya.  Without a second thought she scurried over to him on all fours, kneeling in front of Sanada and opening her mouth, taking his cock in her mouth and sucking him deeply.  

“See?” He told Aya as she bobbed along his cock.  “One word is all I takes.” 

[ahtohallan-calling]

chapter 10 of love is the only thing we can carry with us (kristanna slowburn/angsty but cute/no magic au, rated t) is up! 

next chapter // all chapters

She knew he only saw her as a friend; he had made that clear. That’s okay, she told herself, I can live with that. Just as long as he’s still around, that’s enough.  

Then again, she saw the way he looked at her, not even trying to hide it anymore; like she was something precious, something to be cherished. It sent shivers down her spine, made her breathe a little faster, long after he had looked away.

chapter 10: three sugars

Dear Anna

Your Majesty

To Her Lady, the Princess Anna

Feistypants

Dearest Anna

Anna,

I’m not really sure how to be friends with a princess. So I just wanted to apologize if I overstepped. Please feel free to ignore this letter if you want, or tell me to piss off. 

(I don’t know if princesses are allowed to say that, but I won’t tell anyone if you do.)

Sincerely, 

Kristoff

“Olaf!”

The boy groaned. “Kris, you’re really going to make me walk all the way up there again?”

“Weren’t you begging to go with me a couple of days ago?”

“Well, I’m busy today.”

“I happen to have inside knowledge that Anna was planning to bake cookies today.”

That did the trick. Olaf grabbed the letter and was out the door faster than Kristoff could remind him not to peek at it.

---

“Olaf?”

“Hmm?” the boy asked, midway through taking a bite of a warm cookie.

“Was my sister at your house yesterday?”

“You mean that blonde lady with the fancy dress? Yeah, why?”

“Did she talk to Kristoff?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Thought so,” Anna muttered, rifling through her desk for another piece of paper. She was running low; she’d have to pick up another stack next time they went into town. As much as she loved talking with Kristoff in person, there was something about getting letters from him that made her heart flutter. She loved reading them over and over again, tracing the letters with the tips of her fingers and knowing his had been there, too. 

For a while now, she had found herself thinking of Kristoff more often than not, wondering what he was doing when they were apart, whether his heart thudded like hers did with each new letter, how it would feel if he held her close and let her linger in his arms.

She had gotten her answer the day before yesterday, when he’d come back to take her on the promised adventure, and her heart had felt so full she couldn’t help but throw herself at him-- and he had caught her, wrapped his arms so tightly around her and whispered that he had missed her. It had felt even better than she had imagined.

She knew he only saw her as a friend; he had made that clear. That’s okay, she told herself, I can live with that. Just as long as he’s still around, that’s enough. 

Then again, she saw the way he looked at her, not even trying to hide it anymore; like she was something precious, something to be cherished. It sent shivers down her spine, made her breathe a little faster, long after he had looked away.

Kristoff,

For someone who doesn’t know how to be friends with a princess, you’re doing an excellent job. 

Olaf leaned over her shoulder. “What do you guys put in these letters, anyway?”

She snatched the paper away from his prying eyes. “Olaf! It’s not polite to read over people’s shoulders.”

“Being polite is boring. You should ask him to take you to the summer festival.”

“What’s that?”

The little boy rolled his eyes. “The summer festival, duh.”

She laughed and ruffled his hair. “I mean, well, what do you all do to celebrate it? When is it? In Arendelle, we just have a ceremony on the longest day of the year. We do more for the harvest season.”

“We do dancing and eat a lot of food and stuff. It’s in a few weeks, I think, but Grandpapa told me I have to go ahead and start deciding what stuff to bring from our garden. And I have to practice my dancing.” He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not a very good dancer. Last year Kris said I broke all eleven of his toes.”

“It sounds wonderful.”

Olaf nodded vigorously, mouth full once more thanks to his second cookie. Anna laughed and returned to her letter.

But you have neglected to tell me about this summer festival, so thank goodness for Olaf keeping me in the loop. I insist you come up here straightaway and tell me more about it. I’ve never been to a village festival; I’d like to go if that would be alright.

Yours,

Anna

PS-- you don’t really have to come straightaway, unless you want to, in which case I would be very pleased.

---

When they had first met, Anna had asked him why people from the mountains were so tall. Now it was Kristoff’s turn to wonder how someone could be so small and still be so full of life. Then again, maybe it did make sense; she was overflowing with it, with joy, with wonder, with a fearlessness that took his breath away.

He’d come as soon as possible, only delaying to ask for his grandfather’s approval to take Anna to the festival; as much as Anna had improved, beneath the surface was the constant fear that something might prove to be too much, and then--

He couldn’t bear thinking about it. Luckily, though, his grandfather had reassured him that, so long as she didn’t push herself too hard, Anna would be able to attend. Grandpapa had still looked at him with worry in his eyes, but even he had had to admit that Anna was doing better than they had dared to expect.

Kristoff was reminded of that now as he held her tiny hand in his own, carefully holding her fingers so she could practice twirling. Her eyes were alight with joy, and her flushed cheeks were round and pink, a far cry from the gaunt girl she had been when she first arrived. Her green dress didn’t hang so loosely off her shoulders anymore; instead, it fit the curve of her waist and flare of her hips so perfectly that Kristoff was having a hard time not staring.

“Okay, that one was perfect,” he said, grinning as she twirled under his arm and stood in front of him, awaiting his next instructions. “Now do that while we move.”

“These mountain dances are a lot trickier than what we do in Arendelle,” she complained, though her eyes were bright with mischief. “Haven’t you ever heard of a good old-fashioned waltz?”

“Afraid not,” he teased. “You’ll have to teach me that one next.”

He led her through the next steps of the dance, trying not to wince when she misstepped and landed on his toes. He realized after a while that it helped when he hummed the tunes, and before much longer she had mastered the dance, the one he knew would be most popular at the festival. “Let’s do it again, faster,” she exclaimed.

“Are you sure?” he asked, and she nodded furiously.

“Come on, let’s do it!”

And so they did, sweeping around the backyard of the cottage as if they were floating on air. This time, she didn’t step on his shoes even once.

“That was amazing, Anna, you-- are you alright?”

One of her hands was still in his, but the other was pressed flat against her chest as she struggled to catch her breath. She managed to nod weakly, her face suddenly white. Terrified, Kristoff guided her to sit down beside him on the grass.

He cupped her face in his palms. “You’re okay, Anna,” he said quietly, his thumbs softly caressing her cheekbones. 

She reached up, clinging to his wrists, her slim fingers cold against his skin. Her eyes were wide and frightened, but she held him steadily in her gaze. “I’m here,” he said, years of practice kicking in and helping him remain calm. “I’ve got you.”

Long minutes passed agonizingly slowly as they clung to each other; at last, the color returned to her cheeks, and she let out a heavy sigh, her eyelids drooping as she leaned forward, letting her forehead drop against the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, a sigh of relief escaping him. 

“Sorry,” she murmured, her breath warm against his collarbone. “Guess I’m pretty out of shape.”

He almost told her then, wanting to let her know it wasn’t her fault, but Elsa’s words came back to him: the shock of it might kill her. Just watching her go through this had been terrifying enough; he couldn’t imagine--

He shook his head emphatically, banishing the thought. “No, Anna, you’re just...you were pretty sick. And it’s okay to still be getting better. That dance wears me out, too.”

“You’re not the one who--”

“Don’t,” he said firmly. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s not your fault. I’m just glad you’re okay now.”

She nodded, just barely. “Maybe-- maybe no more dancing today. But...you don’t have to go home. Unless you want to.”

“I don’t want to.”

For a few minutes longer, they sat together on the grass, until the terror of the moment faded away in the sun, and she stood and took him by the hand and led him inside.

---

“Tea?” she asked, already putting the kettle on without waiting for an answer. Whether he wanted any or not, she needed some right then, not only to calm her shaking nerves but to give her a chance to collect herself.  

It bothered her sometimes that this was all she had to offer him or any other guests. In the castle, Elsa could greet every guest according to the fanfare they deserved, could meet their every need; entire banquets, ceremonies, parades could be thrown together in a day if she felt a particularly honored visitor deserved such a thing.

Kristoff deserved all of that and more, but all she could give him was yet another cup of tea. At least by now, she knew the way he liked it; three heaping spoonfuls of sugar, so sweet it was like drinking candy. She heard him come into the kitchen to stand behind her as she stirred, wrinkling her nose.

“I don’t know how you can stand to drink this,” she teased half-heartedly. “You’re worse than Olaf.” 

He accepted the mug gladly, blowing on it to cool it. “At least there’s actual tea in mine. Don’t know why you bother putting the kettle on for him when he’s just having milk.”

“It’s part of the...the...hospitality,” she said, waving a hand. “Part of welcoming a guest. Plus it makes him feel grown-up.”

He was still looking at her with worry in those big brown eyes, so she plastered on a big smile as she blew on her own. She hadn’t had an attack like that in months, not since last fall, when her horse had been spooked as she led it to its stable, and on instinct, she had chased after it. She’d collapsed halfway across the yard and been swarmed by guards and servants, all shouting for a doctor. Afterward, Elsa had made her stay in bed for two days, posting a guard at the door to make sure she didn’t try and sneak out. 

She’d welcomed the rest for the first day, but by the second she was itching to escape. Instead she’d been forced to visit with a stream of doctors, explaining to them over and over again what had happened, how it had felt, how she felt now, and how she must never dare to do such a thing again.

“Trust me, I didn’t exactly enjoy it,” she had snapped at one particularly stern man with a mustache that bounced in time with his finger as he lectured her. “Not trying to make it happen again.”

It had happened a few different times over the years, sometimes worse than others, usually when she had pushed herself too hard, tried to do a little too much. It would feel suddenly like something heavy was on her chest, like it was hard to catch her breath; by then it was too late to stop it, and she would have to ride out the waves of pain that crashed through her chest like blows from a hammer until they subsided, leaving her feeling winded and sore. She’d never found an answer for why it happened; the doctors always claimed she could do nothing but avoid exercise as much as possible. Elsa was no help, either; she simply told Anna some things couldn’t be explained and to get back to resting.

It was terrifying when it happened; sometimes she felt the edges of her vision fade and knew she was close to fainting. Once, when she was little, she had. That had almost happened today, but focusing on Kristoff’s eyes looking into hers, on his hands cradling her face, the comforting words he murmured-- all of it had kept her steady, helped her push through. 

That was what Elsa failed to understand; it didn’t matter that Kristoff was lowborn, that he was “just some man from the mountains”. He saw her in a way that no one else had before, knew what she needed sometimes when even she didn’t. 

She had dreaded coming back up to the mountain; now, she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving.

Kristoff took a sip of tea and cleared his throat. “Um, you don’t have to dance at the festival. Just so you know. I mean, you were doing well. But I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I know. I’ll decide the day of. And next time, I’ll tell you if I start feeling winded.”

He simply nodded in return, and she felt a sudden great rush of affection for him, grateful that he left the choice of what to do in her hands. She wasn’t stupid; she knew trying to dance like that at the festival was a recipe for disaster, but still-- it was nice to not be treated like a useless fool for once.

She leaned back against the countertop. “Where did you learn to dance like that, anyway?”

“From my mom. It was one of the first things she started teaching me when she took me in. She knew it would make me feel like I belonged if I could jump right in with the others.”

Anna mulled this over for a minute, debating whether or not to ask the next questions that rose in her mind. “So you…”

“Yes, she adopted me. She died a few years back.”

She put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. She was lovely. I...I still remember her from the first time I was here.”

He smiled softly at her. “Thanks. Your, uh, your parents…”

“Yes, they passed away when I was younger. Which is why Elsa is queen. Obviously.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Anna looked down, rubbing the toe of her boot against the floor. “Let’s, uh, let’s talk about...nicer things. I don’t feel like making myself sad today.”

“Like what?”

“Like...well, now that I think about it, I don’t actually know that much about you,” she mused, tapping her fingers against her chin. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Green. Like the forest.”

“What’s your favorite season?”

“Spring.”

“Favorite food?”

“Anything.”

“Favorite…hmm...favorite story? Your mom used to tell me the best ones.”

“The one about the polar bear king.”

Anna tilted her head. “I don’t know if she ever told me that one.”

He grinned. “Want to hear it? It’s kind of long, you might want to sit down.”

She nodded excitedly, already making her way into the sitting room. Kristoff followed, his smile broadening when she curled up on the sofa, pulling the plaid blanket into her lap, and patted the space next to her. “But you have to tell me yours next,” he said solemnly. “Story for a story, those are the rules.”

“Shh. Story first, then rules.”

He laughed, sitting at the other end of the sofa. “Okay, okay. Once upon a time…”

---

“And then they see each other across the ballroom for the first time in forever, and their eyes meet, and they-- they--”

She yawned again, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. Sitting on opposite ends of the sofa hadn’t lasted long; as he had told his story she had scooted closer and closer to him. He told himself it was just because she’d gotten invested in the story, but he couldn’t help but feel a little smug when after it had ended she was still pressed up against him. He had shifted so she could lay down and rest her head on his chest as she told her own story, and he’d spent the last several minutes fighting the temptation to stroke her hair, let the coppery strands run through his fingers, softer than silk.

“You can finish the story another night,” he said, and she mumbled something incoherent in response.

“What was that, sleepyhead?” he teased, but no response came; she was already asleep. 

He eased himself out from beneath her, carefully placing a pillow under her head. She nuzzled into it, and something in his chest warmed at the sight. He couldn’t help it; he leaned down and brushed a kiss against her temple. 

“Sweet dreams, Anna,” he murmured. “See you tomorrow.”

[choosemarecal]

May I Have This Dance?- Marecal Modern AU

Here is my gift for the Red Queen Secret Santa! I got @bright-eyedwanderer! You requested some Marecal fluff so I made a modern au featuring Marecal. I hope you like this holiday-themed fic! Merry Christmas to everyone, as well! author’s note at the end

“Great, I look awful,” I say as I stare into the mirror. The red dress has an off-the-shoulder style and flares at my waist. The double high-low hem reaches just above my knees.

I sighed. “Gisa, I don’t even want to go. Do I really have to wear this?”

Gisa stood with her arms crossed behind me and rolled her eyes.

“It’s just one dance! Plus, I never get to dress you up like this. You look so pretty too! Here, let me fix your makeup.” She made to grab a makeup brush from my desk but I cut her off.

“Nuh-uh, that’s enough. I’ll wear the dress, just stop with the fixing. Where're my shoes? I’m going to be late.”

Gisa held up a pair of nude heels. “Here.”

I gave Gisa an incredulous look. “How about no.”

“Please! Come on, just for one night!”

“Oh my god, fine.” I grabbed the heels and walked into the hall. Shade was already waiting near the front door for me.

“There she is! Come on, we’re going to be late.” Shade held up a hand to ruffle my hair before a voice cut him off.

“Hey! I spent over an hour on her hair, don’t you dare mess it up now,” Gisa glowered from the end of the hall. Shade raised an eyebrow at me and I shrugged.

He shook his head. “Just put your shoes on and let’s go. The dance starts at 7:00 and it’s already 6:50. Farley’s waiting in the car.”

We walked out to Shade’s car and I sat in the back, while he took the driver’s seat. Farley was already in the front passenger’s seat. They spoke in quiet voices the entire way to school. Farley’s been his girlfriend for almost a year now and for that time, I could tell he’s happy.

I stared out the window and caught a glimpse of my reflection. Gisa had straightened then curled my hair perfectly just for this thing. I was only going because I lost a bet to Shade. Now I’m in an uncomfortable dress, on the way to a stupid school dance.

This could only turn out amazing.

We parked and walked up to the front steps of my high school. Everyone was either in a gown or a suit, styled to look their best.

Shade grabbed my arm to get my attention. “Try to enjoy yourself. I know you hate these kinds of things, but I think you’re going to be happy you went.”

“Whatever you say.” I doubt that I will feel anything but regret for coming to this, but Shade was already leading Farley out to the dance floor. I watched them for a moment before heading over to the refreshment table. I grabbed a cup, poured some punch in, and settled in the shadows next to the table.

The cafetorium of the school was decorated with red and white holiday decorations for the dance. There were countless couples on the dance floor, looking at their partner with adoration. At least some people were enjoying themselves.

I took a sip of the punch, then proceeded to spit it back out. Spiked. Of course. I idled by the table for what seemed like forever before giving in. I left my cup on the table and walked towards the door.

It was pointless to come here in the first place. I didn’t even a date. As if I’d even want one.

I was almost to the door before I felt someone touch my shoulder. I whirled around, expecting to find Shade there to tell me that I couldn’t leave so early. But the figure standing in front of me was taller and… the most popular person in school.

“Hi, Mare,” Cal Calore, son of Tiberias Calore, said. He was dressed in a black suit with a red tie. His hair was combed back and styled with gel. Some say he looked like a prince.

“...Hi?” I answered in confusion. This is Cal Calore. The Cal Calore. I wouldn’t call myself a friend of the Cal Calore. And how does he even know my name?

His face was a bit flushed. “I know we don’t really talk to each other, but I saw you leaving.”

I cocked a brow. “Yeah… and?”

Cal smiled. God, he did look like a prince. “And, I wanted to dance with you.”

I furrowed my brows. “You what?”

He looked at the DJ and nodded. The music switched to a slow song, and I stared at him. What was he doing?

He held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

I glanced around and found Shade staring straight at me. He had a wild smile on his face and nodded.

I looked at Cal’s hand and back at his face. Why not? There definitely was no getting out of this.

I shrugged and grinned at him. “Sure.”

I took his hand and he led me to the dance floor. He pulled me into his arms and we kept rhythm with the song. He was almost a foot taller than me without the heels. I silently thanked Gisa for making me wear them.

“You look beautiful,” Cal said softly. I blushed and realized that people were starting to stare at us.

“Thanks. But, as you said earlier, we don’t really know each other. Why ask to dance with me of all people?”

Cal’s eyes searched my face as if he’d find the answer in it. “I don’t know. I just saw you leaving and my first thought was to ask you to dance.”

“That’s sweet, though now people are staring.”

He twirled me around, making me lose my footing. I did not know how to dance.

“Let them. But it’s you they’re looking at.”

I snorted. “That’s hilarious. Do you know who you are? And how you look? They’re obviously watching you.”

I spun outwards and almost tripped out of Cal’s arms before he dipped backward to make it look like I wasn’t about to fall.

“Do I know how I look? No, please, enlighten me.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help a smile from forming. “Well, you don’t look bad if that’s what you want to hear.”

Cal’s deep laugh filled me up with an emotion I couldn't quite place. I didn’t hate it either.

The song Cal had gotten the DJ to play ended minutes ago, but we kept dancing. I found myself not being able to look away from him. Cal could tell I wasn’t a skilled dancer and helped me with different movements.

“You’re getting better at this,” Cal commented.

“If you mean I’m not tripping every five steps, then yeah, you’re right,” I replied. He laughed that godforsaken laugh and I couldn’t help but blush. We kept dancing, unable to look away from each other.

We were both breathless when we eventually came to a stop. Cal walked us to the side of the dance floor and offered to get drinks. He was already walking away before I could mention that the punch was spiked.

I watched his form disappear into the crowd so intently that I didn’t even realize that someone was standing right next to me.

“Well, well, well. I see you’re taking my advice and having some fun,” Shade teased. I turned to look up at him. “Cal Calore, huh? Remember me when you’re eating caviar in his family’s yacht.”

“Oh shut up, we only danced,” I said. But it didn’t feel like just a dance. It really felt like it was more than that. I obviously wasn’t going to tell Shade that, though.

“You’re Shade, right?” Cal asked, making me jump. I hadn’t even noticed he had come back.

“Yeah. Nice to meet you, Calore,” Shade replied, no warmth in his voice. Cal raised an eyebrow and turned to give me my drink.

“Thanks.” I took the drink but Shade quickly removed it from my hands.

“We better get going. The dance will be over soon,” Shade said cooly.

Cal took this in swiftly. “Of course,” he faced me, “Want me to take you home?”

“Sure!” I responded quickly. Before Shade could argue, I grabbed Cal’s arm and walked towards the door. “See you at home, Shade!” I called back.

“Make sure she gets back safely, Calore,” I heard Shade yell back. I pushed open the school door and was hit with a gust of cold air. Cal came up from behind me and grinned.

“Your brother’s a joy,” he joked. The wind was messing up his hair, somehow making him look even more handsome. I wondered what it would feel like if I ran my hand through it...

I quickly snapped back to reality. “He is, isn’t he? Anyway, where’s your car?”

“Over here.” Cal led me down the concrete steps and through the parking lot. We stopped in front of an expensive looking vehicle. I squinted to see the brand logo on the front. BMW. Well, what did I expect?

Cal opened the front passenger seat and motioned for me to get in. When we were both inside the car, Cal turned on the heater. We sat there for a moment before I broke the silence.

“Thanks for offering to drive me home,” I said.

“Yeah, no problem. What’s you’re address?” Cal added. I hesitated. This guy was probably the richest person in school. My family didn’t own fancy cars or yachts or caviar. But I needed to get home, so I gave him it.

We pulled out of the school parking lot and fell silent again. I watched the passing buildings, unsure of what to say next. Fortunately, Cal cleared his throat.

“So... I enjoyed dancing with you,” Cal commented.

I chuckled. “Me too. Though I don’t think ‘dancing’ is an accurate term for what I was attempting.”

“I could teach you,” he suggested.

“Good luck with that.”

“No really! I took lessons when I was a kid. It would be a pleasure to teach you. And I would love to see your cute face more,” Cal said slyly. God, this guy knew how to make me blush.

“I’ll think about it. Although it wouldn’t be a shame to see you either,” I answered, earning a smile from him. We chatted a bit more before Cal pulled up to my house.

He got out first and opened the door for me. I stepped out and faced Cal to thank him again. The wind gently brushed against my cheeks. I tilted my head up to look into Cal’s eyes.

“Thanks for taking me home,” I say softly.

“My pleasure,” Cal replied. I shifted in my dress. The street light made his bronze eyes seem like glowing embers. I surprisingly found myself unwilling to leave Cal for the night.

“Uh… can I have your number? For the dance lessons,” I said, surprising even myself.

“Yeah… yeah of course!” Cal answered immediately. We exchanged phone numbers and stood there for a moment until it was clear that we were both stalling.

“I uh, better get back inside. And you should get home too. See you,” I began to walk away but Cal gently grasped my arm and took a step closer to me so that we were almost chest to chest.

My heartbeat was so loud in my ears I wondered if he could hear it too. Cal leaned down and pressed his lips to my cheek. They were warm even despite the night’s chilly air. He pulled back and smiled at me.

“Have a good night, Mare,” Cal said, walking towards his car door and glancing at me once more before getting in his car. I watched him drive down my street and turn out of the neighborhood.

“Goodnight, Cal,” I whispered into the night. I could still feel the warmth of his lips on my cheek, the feeling I got when his lips touched my skin.

I’m glad I went to that stupid school dance. I guess Shade was right.

Author’s Note (aka pls read): Okay, I just want everyone to know that this is my first time posting fan fiction and I know for certain it is not the best. But I truly did try my best and understand if the person I gifted this to does not like this. i wont apologize for it being bad tho because i did try Thank you for reading this far! Please, please tell me if you like this! (and maybe what i could improve on?) I might try more of this in the future... (and for anyone wondering, this is 2003 words!)

[rksakura]

🔊: lo siento ( lyrics + lines ) | ( dance ) | 👚 duo performance with 💖 sakura miyawaki & kenta takada mentions: @rkmason​, @rkxkikwang​, @rkchoutzuyu​, @rkkenta​, @hyojinrk​, & @rkkyungsoo​ 

sakura isn’t one to showcase an upside-down smile, practically a frown on her bright features. she’s a ray of energy, an energy pill if you might even call her but she still has her limitations just like everyone else. she’s only human in spite of her charisma on stage, she still finds it hard to believe that as the episodes go by, so do her friends say goodbye. she’s never one to take it too well. moving around different parts of australia throughout her lifetime, every time she made friends, she’d cling but eventually parted ways, causing a great rift from her friendships. she’s the kind of person to store friendships in her heart deeply, always willing to go out of her way for her friends. she’d consider them a second family when her parents were out of the country, friends are her source of happiness!

she’s met faces where she forgotten in time too. sakura knew friends that she couldn’t remember by name but recognises them by their faces, it was at a time she went to summer adventure camp as a six year old in kyushu. this feels similar to that time, she’s growing at a certain distance from the ones she loves. she should’ve said hi or a good morning to her best friends, asking her other friends how they are doing as well! but she’s got her time busy filled with volunteer work from the aquarium, practising and being in and out of the studio for recordings or dance rehearsals, and university.

it feels like everything’s overwhelming, got a whole lot on her plate and almost as if she was carrying the whole world on her shoulders, juggling it. she had to balance everything out to the point she’d follow a schedule to keep herself grounded. that’s a great and healthy technique to go on about her days other than her body adjusting to auto-pilot mode for a lot of her personal moments. noted that sakura did her best to do her work while remaining sane throughout it. she liked her free time too much, especially freedom!

sadness flows through her as she nights pass by realising that she can’t share the same spotlight with any of her best friends. that meant no kikwang or tzuyu, plus she hasn’t even hit them up. she knows lacking but she’s afraid to say a word to her friends after the loss. she felt it too but she tried not to dwell on it too hard as she needed to smile on her performances, people were taking pictures and the cameras are all over the place. plus the big five ceo/judges had their eyes locked on the australian gal.

though, there’s faces she doesn’t want off the show that can be on the risk… it feels that anyone can be eliminated for various reasons. sakura didn’t expect herself to make it this far but she’s grateful for the experiences that are letting her experiment with the best of her abilities and themes that compliment her flair for rapping and music. she can only wish for the best when it comes to the others! she has to give in the other half her partner is dedicated to this project, she can’t be unjust and fair to her duo.

kenta feels refreshing and nostalgic, she’s reminded of how and communicating in japanese without hesitation. she gets along with him perfectly, vibing with his energy effortlessly. the aren’t feisty but rather friendly to one another! she’s been aware of his presence, long before this took place to where they’re led on the chapter of the mnet global audition season five.  he’s definitely a better dancer than her, without a doubt. so she finds solace in his advice when she learns through the moves over and over again until she moves through the choreography fluidly. it didn’t take much for sakura to memorise the instructions though. she’s able to dance but not on a level where she can run up on the stage freestyling to a strong rhythm! she’s on the flexible side than showing off sharp moves.

she touches up on her spanish from years ago, going through her favourite spanish playlist to help pick her pronunciation so that she doesn’t sound like she’s completely new to the language and its structures. she took the language repeatedly, moving up to levels on where she was able to hold a conversation in latin america and spain throughout her travels with her parents. sometimes, she’d rather sing in spanish rather than english but she didn’t get on the levels to be fluent. perhaps next semester she will if there’s extra time for her to fit in with her classes and the labs. she’s got the lyrics down after a couple of hours of singing through it, she needs to practise her pitch to hold a tune.

sakura’s vocals aren’t horrid, she’s able to stay on-key and present her soft, relaxing tone to her voice. she didn’t rely on herself to hit the high notes when it came to the ad libs, she worked around the song to stay within her range when in the recording. the sound is sweet and easy on the ears, meshing with the song quite well actually. there’s a part where she gets to a korean rap which requires her to flip the switch again to another language! she speaks korean on the daily so it isn’t hard to find the unique flow in her rap.

sharing tips with her duo partner is also essential, she’s giving him some pointers on facial expression when it comes to dancing. an aspect that judges make sure that they judge and notice when performers are on the stage. she’s been told that much from trainees that she knows of.

piecing the dance and live singing wasn’t exactly hard, the movements are simple. she needed to find the perfect outfit to go with the theme of the song, she decides to go with a flowy red dress with ruffles that was cool enough for her to dance in freely. gradually, being on the spotlight makes it a little hotter temperature-wise in terms of body heat. she’s going to perform in an area of luminescent so it’s best to stay in thin layers. she hasn’t worn heels when performing in so long but she picked up a cute pair of red dress shoes that looked like they were comfortable, tapping all around here and there when dancing. this outfit should work wonders with impressions! red is a nice, sultry colour that compliments her.

she sits down patiently until it was her turn to be called up.

she’s one of the first few to come up with her partner, kenta. she takes a bow greeting the other contestants who are watching, as well as the judges with a big cordial curve on her lips. waving a hand before the music starts, she lets the broadcast be known what she and kenta are as a duo! “we’re the global couple duo! and this is our performance for today. i hope you guys enjoy it!” she looks over at kenta, greeting him with a small smile too. he looked so fancy in this attire, a great choice for this theme that went with her red dress.

the pre-recording of her voice starts off, it’s a soft sound to the elements. she takes the lead up front, sliding to the side and letting kenta sing through the first lines. she makes sure to follow through the choreography naturally, showing a smile at all times as she’s enjoying the upbeat vibes from the song. the instrumentals’ a  good choice, it’s not the typical kpop sound but that’s what she was aiming for. to try out different themes to which she liked, she intends to be a versatile artist. she’s known to be a rapper but can also hold the title to being at least, if not, an average vocalist.

she moves her hips to the sound of the beat, staying on par with the rhythm of the song, getting ready to sing through the spanish lyrics. leslie grace has a pretty elegant-sounding voice with a light tone to it, so it’s not hard to sing-along to but sakura prefers to sing in her own tone to not sound like a copycat, trying to imitate the artist. sakura’s never been on this level where she has to dance in heels, holding a microphone and singing at the same time. maybe even rapping as it’s coming up. she’s crouching as she sings then picks herself back up on the floor once that part is over with.

grace is an essence she has to retain throughout the entirety of this performance, sakura’s picked up the tweaked up choreography that kenta improved to make her movements lean on the feminine side. she faces him in certain moments, with a deep look to her eye––emotions are deep, making the stage more entertaining. delivering a good and energetic performance, one that many will enjoy is her goal! she picks herself up elegantly through the dancing, delivering a torrid image than her typical signature cute expressions.

who knew she sounds so good in stage speaking three languages? english, korean, and spanish.

the dance is not normally in her element but she loves the light ballroom dancing and tangos that takes place in the chorus! it’s even more fun when she twirls, when she does she lets out some giggles. it truly looked like she was having a great time on the stage without faking it. that’s how much she liked music, breathing for the sensation of it. holding hands are couple things but kenta’s a good friend that sakura doesn’t flinch but flows with his dancing naturally too. practising made amazing results.

kenta’s korean is ridiculously good to the point sakura wishes she spoke it like him as she needs to learn more but is holding up to the best she can do. she mirrors the dance movements that kenta is doing, making sure to stay in sync with the beats. she doesn’t have a whole lot of experience with harmonising but this was good practise for it, she doesn’t sound horrible as sakura’s been practising to tune in with kenta’s vocals for this specific part. she takes some parts from the chorus but stays on tune the whole time whilst dancing through.

english lines come out from her voice pleasantly, no accent and punctual. her accent with her spanish sounded crisp too, sakura’s really holding up with speaking the languages. she’s more surprised that she didn’t wind up using a japanese song but she needs to leave a mark for this season. she’s more than just a pretty face or a jane doe.

once the rap comes up, sakura uses a stronger tone to her accent to adjust to the risque theme but not explicit to the point it would sound suggestable and not suitable for work. she still retains a lighthearted feeling to her rapping, but sakura has the charisma to get her through this and she can work through the rap without breaking a sweat. it’s what she’s best at, delivering a good verse with eccentric energy! she moves through the twirls swiftly, with a grin on her features as she dances!

when the instrumental is at its last few minutes, she shifts her body into a pose for the end. the spotlight on her and kenta, she takes a polite bow before taking her leave. still, the faith in her friends not being eliminated and kenta doesn’t leave her system. it gives her an itchy antsy nerve-wracking feeling but decides to stay to watch the rest of the performances. she wanted to see what mason, hyojin and kyungsoo had to show. she also wants to cheer for them, giving them some encouragement as the stage can be intense! sakura is the kind of person to stay behind her friends to support them in events.

[broken-clover]

12 Days of Whump- Delirium

Here we are! And close to Chrimbus, too. Merry Christmas, here’s some more pain. I kid, I kid. I still hope you like this one! Thanks for tuning in, I had a lot of fun with this project!

Day 12 of the 12 days of Whump- Delirium, with Amang!

Sapphire eyes watched intently, keeping close attention on the dozen and a half boys working in front of him. His gaze was just as much worried care as it was calm observance. While the children nailed planks, looped ropes, and drilled holes, he made sure everyone was remaining safe, with no loose extremities getting snagged or nicked or banged up.

“Well done, boys, very well done!” Amane smiled warmly, offering a little clap. “I couldn’t be more proud. We’ll be as good as new in no time! Haruka, watch your sleeve, I don’t want you getting snagged on the tarp.”

“Ok, papa!”

“Sora, try to keep your arm straight when you hammer, it’ll make it easier to aim.”

“Got it, Ama-san!”

The dancer caught a blue-haired old boy as he was walking past with a box of tools. “Madoka?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I’m going to step out for a little while, can I trust you to be in charge?”

His dour expression lit up immediately. “Absolutely, sir!”

“Wonderful. Be good while I’m gone.”

As soon as Amane turned and began walking away, he heard Madoka make a panicked squawk. “Yuji, put the saw down right now!!”

He laughed at that, knowing full well that Madoka was overreacting as he tended to. Amane didn’t even break his gait as he walked away from the half-repaired caravan and towards the nearest building. Ronin-gai really was a pretty little place. He really would have liked to visit more often, when they weren’t using it as a place of refuge while the caravan was being fixed. The locals were always good at making them feel welcome. He attributed it at least in part to the open-hearted nature of their leader, even if that was a little biased.

The house he entered was simple, modest. There was very little obstructing Amane between the front stoop and the bedroom. The feeling of tatami under his feet was familiar as he kicked his geta off by the entrance. It had become an odd kind of comfort, a sensation associated with a familiar place and a familiar face.

The bedroom’s curtains were pulled back, letting in the sight of the afternoon sun and falling leaves. Amane hardly paid the sight a look as he knelt down by the bed and reached for a wet cloth.

“This one’s gotten warm, hmm?”

He dropped it in the bowl by his side, fishing around and pulling out another one that was less warm to the touch. After wringing it out to keep the material from dripping, Amane replaced the one he’d taken. Almost immediately after, he had to move to put it back in place, due to the displeased squirming underneath.

Amane frowned. “Bang, please hold still.”

He got no reply, of course, because the man was still half-conscious as best. It didn’t stop Amane from talking to him either way. “I’m going to replace the bandage now, so just try and stay calm. I promise it’ll only hurt for a minute or two.”

He tugged down the blanket that he’d tossed over Bang after the last time. The arm nearest him was wrapped in a stained bandage, which he eyed with concern and faint disgust. Despite his hesitance, he unpinned the end and began unraveling the material.

The task gradually grew more difficult as more came off. Even without being awake, Bang started wriggling and squirming, which only made the whole ordeal take longer. Amane tried not to flinch as the layers grew more soaked underneath, with rust-colored flakes of dried blood flaking off onto the tatami.

“Oh, Bang…”

With a bit of morbid curiosity, the dancer leaned in a little, slender fingers lightly fanning over the too-warm, reddened skin. He didn’t dare drift too close to the large chunk of flesh that was missing, more than slightly due to the unpleasant-smelling muck that stained the wound.

Amane discarded the old bandage immediately, using his Drive to summon some extra fabric. He continued to glance at the injury between measurements, trying to determine how long to make the new strand.

“Don’t I always tell you to not be so reckless? I’m just trying to look out for you.” The man sighed, slicing off the end of the new material with one of his hairpins. “...Then again, you did save my boys. I think Koichi would have lost his whole arm if you hadn’t jumped in the way.”

One end of the strand was carefully placed by the wound’s edge, and he began wrapping it back up. “I’m not sure why bandits keep trying to attack us. Perhaps now they’ll learn not to try. Even if they do bring wolfhounds with them…”

He laughed a little at his own poor joke, but it petered out in the otherwise quiet room. Amane leaned over to stroke a warm cheek, burying fingers in the shaggy sideburns.

“Litchi will be here soon with the antibiotics. Just hold out a little longer for me, okay? You’re strong, I know you can do this. Please.”

As he finished wrapping up the infected wound, he felt muscles tensing under his touch. He tried to be gentler, thinking that the roughness was making the injured man recoil in pain, he pulled back in shock when Bang started sitting up, rubbing at his eyes with his good arm.

A moment later, he caught sight of Amane.

“T-Tenjo-sama?”

Amane tried to push him back down, gently but firmly. “It’s alright. Just lie still.”

The ninja complied, but he continued to stare with wide, feverish eyes. After a moment, he began tearing up.

“Oh, no, no…” Amane’s face fell. “Shh-shh-shh, it’s alright. You’re alright.”

“Ten-Tenjo-sama…”

He tried to think of something to say. How bad had the fever gotten? “She’s busy right now. She’ll be back as soon as she can. I’ll look after you until then, alright? I promise I’ll take good care of you.”

In spite of his efforts, Bang sat back up. And to Amane’s eternal confusion, despite his teary eyes, he began to smile.

“Tenjo-sama! Tenjo-sama! You came back!”

“I- what?” Even with all the oddness he had seen, Amane was utterly lost. He’d heard Bang mention his beloved master before, but he didn’t have much to piece together aside from her cruel death and the fact that Bang had a great fondness and respect for her. He assumed, though the infection and fever, the man had gotten a little delirious and begun hallucinating.

He was proven wrong rather quickly, as a pair of arms wrapped around his lithe body is a bone-crushing hug. “I missed you so much! You’re finally back!”

Amane glanced around, not entirely sure how to react. He managed to push Bang off and briefly looked over his arm, just to make sure the bleeding hadn’t worsened.

The ninja tilted his head, a smile still on his face. “Aren’t you happy to see me, Tenjo-sama?”

“Ah...y-yes, that’s right. Were you good while I was out?” Amane spat out without really thinking.

He nodded fiercely. “Uh-huh! I did all my lessons! And I’m getting better at climbing walls! I managed to scale the west edge without falling once!” His grin somehow grew even wider. “So you know what that means!”

The dancer put on a nervous smile. “O-of course I do, Bang!”

“Pat my head! I did good, so that means I get a head-pat!”

In spite of the confusion and awkwardness of it, Amane had to stifle a laugh of his own as he ruffled Bang’s hair. He seemed positively elated by it, practically bouncing in place.

“Haha! I missed you so much, Tenjo-sama! I’ve got a bunch of stuff to tell you!”

Amane figured, if he kept the man talking, he wouldn’t do anything reckless. And if he was very lucky, it would tire him out enough to make him go back to sleep.

“Oh? Why don’t you tell me everything, Bang?”

“Ok! Ok!” He clapped his hands together. “I met a really cool new friend! His name’s Amane-kun! And he’s got pretty purple hair just like yours!”

He was starting to put the pieces together. It seemed that in his delirious mind, he looked just enough like Tenjo to have them confused. It took him far too long to recognize the rest of what had been said.

“You think I- that he’s ‘cool?’”

“Uh-huh! Amane-kun is super super cool! He’s got a fancy scarf too! Not as cool as my hero scarf, but he can do magic with his, and I can’t do that!”

Amane was torn between blushing and laughter, so he did a bit of both. “Aww. He sounds interesting. Is he nice?”

“Mmm…” Bang paused. “A little scary. But he’s really nice when you get to know him! We sparred under the big tree the other day!”

He could vaguely recall that fight from a few months back. He also distinctly remembered the part where they both crashed into each other, with him landing on top of Bang in a very...awkward position.

“Well, I’m very glad you’re making new friends, Bang.”

“I really like Amane-kun! He’s awesome! He can fight and is really pretty and he dances with a bunch of people, an- and he promised to show me sometime!”

That Amane recalled much more thoroughly. In fact, it had been the reason they’d been heading that direction in the first place. He had finally wanted to put on a show at Ronin-gai.

If he didn’t know better, he would have said that Bang was blushing. But with the fever, it was difficult to tell. “Are you alright?”

“Can I marry Amane-kun?”

“Wh- I-” The dancer was at a loss for words, with a blush of his own overtaking his face.

Bang hardly seemed to notice, turning away and picking at one of the tatami panels by his bed. With a few attempts, he managed to pull it back, and retrieved something from a crevice underneath.

He gave Amane a conspiratorial look as he turned back around, keeping something concealed in his big hands. “Can I show you something super-super secret?”

“I...of course you can, Bang. You can always trust me.”

With shaking hands, the ninja revealed a little blue box. He flipped the top open, revealing a beautiful silvery ring, set with a glimmering sapphire stone.

“I wanna marry Amane-kun! Then we can be heroes and dance together and stuff!”

Amane felt like he was experiencing something he wasn’t meant to. He suddenly felt much more aware of the fact that he was more-or-less impersonating someone who had been dead for at least a decade and being privy to his own surprise proposal. Then again, he wasn’t sure just how much of it had to be real, and what had to be fever-induced babbling. The ring was clear as day, though. Was it really for him? Could it be?

Just as quickly, Bang closed the box and stashed it back away. “Shhhh! You can’t tell him! It’s super-secret!”

Still, Amane nodded. “Of course. I won’t tell a soul.”

“Haha! Thanks, Tenjo-sama!”

Before the dancer would think of something else to say, he watched Bang stretch, letting out a noisy yawn. He flinched, grabbing at the bandaged portion of his arm.

“Bang, are you alright?”

“I think I hurt myself today.” He replied, tone swiftly saddening. “I think I hurt myself real bad, Tenjo-sama. Am I gonna die?”

With a little smile of his own, Amane reached out to pat his head again. “No, Bang. Just as long as you get plenty of sleep. Can you do that for me?”

He nodded affirmatively, though it was sluggish. “Can I sleep in your lap again?”

Amane tried not to go red again. “You’ve gotten awfully big. I don’t think you’ll fit.” He noticed the man slump immediately. “Ah- um, but you can rest your head on me, if you’d like! But you’ve got to go to sleep right away.”

That seemed to be enough of a compromise. “Ok!

He moved to help guide the man down, to make sure he didn’t slip or hit his head on anything. While initially a bit hesitant about the concept, Amane found the feeling remarkably pleasant. Bang found a comfortable spot leaning up against the other man’s leg, and quickly settled down.

“G’night…Tenjo-sama...”

Amane let his fingers get buried in dark brown hair once again, gently petting it until Bang fell asleep in his lap.

[bitterbeetle]

Fire, Ice, and Shadow

i wrote. the ot3. because i am weak. 3200 words, rated G.

AO3

They spend their time dancing around each other in a façade of comradery. Their feelings are dancers at a masquerade, elaborate masks easily mistaken for another. It’s simple. It’s safe.

Yet since when did safe pair so well with heartache?

It begins with Obi—or rather, it begins with alcohol and cards and candlelight, too many pillows, too much comfort. It begins with Shirayuki’s laugh, Zen’s fondly exasperated huff, and Obi revealing his royal flush. It begins with Obi, three too many drinks and candlelight playing over the fire and ice of his closest companions’ hair.

It begins with several words, spoken with too much honesty, too much feeling to be a joke.

“Ah, damn. I love you two.”

Here’s the thing: Obi is a shadow.

Silence is his thing, omnipresence his brand. He knows he’s taken for granted; that doesn’t offend him. It’s part of the job. Being needed is nothing new.

To be wanted? He didn’t realize how much he reveled in it, how much he craved it. It feels like too much to ask for friendship, yet he got trust, too. There’s no asking for more. His place is as a knight—he knows where the line is drawn.

Shirayuki is fire. She’s warm, lively, with a passion that sparks some sort of fire in Obi as well. Her fire is one that is deadly as it is necessary for life—just as the herbs she uses to heal could be poison, if not for her honest nature. She’s approachable. Obi feels drawn in.

Zen is ice; steadfast and gleaming, like starlight on a winter night. He’s sharp, as beautiful as he is dangerous. He’s frost flowers and sharp icicles, unapproachable by status alone. Yet when one is enveloped by him, it’s warm. So damn warm.

Together, the pair is a force to be reckoned with. They have their own current, pushing and pulling, sucking Obi within their tide.

He’s drowning and he hates how much he’s grown to desire it.

He plays it off by blaming the alcohol, as though he can’t even remember what he said. They know he never drinks to inebriation, but they seem to buy it, and Obi avoids.

He’s a shadow, so it doesn’t take much effort than the usual. It’s just that now, Obi is hyperaware of himself in a way he wasn’t before. His expressions, his posture, his words—how much of it might give away the truth? So he tucks it carefully away.

Too carefully, as it turns out.

Kiki is the first to corner him under the pretense of discussing Lyrias. When her gaze turns sharp, Obi realizes his mistake, but it’s too late.

“Are you avoiding his highness?” she asks bluntly.

“No,” says Obi.

“Hm,” is all she says, and then the conversation returns to its original topic. Obi is forced to stay on his toes for the rest of the discussion.

He’s certain Kiki won’t leave it at that, so he isn’t actually surprised when Mitsuhide comes next. The prince’s aide doesn’t try to trick Obi. When they next meet as Obi is switching with the night guard, Mitsuhide blocks his way with his arms folded.

“Kiki said you’re avoiding Zen.”

“I explicitly remember saying I wasn’t,” says Obi.

“But you are.” Mitsuhide cocks his head, frowning. “Are you ill?”

Obi blinks. “I—no?”

“Hm,” says Mitsuhide in a perfect copy of Kiki. “It’s just that I’d expect you to avoid Zen if you were concerned he would fall ill.”

Damn, that would’ve been a great excuse—if not for the fact they would send him straight to Shirayuki.

“I’ve got guard duty,” points out Obi wryly. “Could I perhaps get back to that?”

For a moment, it looks like Mitsuhide might refuse out of sheer obstinacy, but he shrugs and steps aside. “I’ll tell Zen you’re healthy.”

“Thanks,” says Obi, doing his best to hide his sarcasm. Great. That’s as close to admittance as they’re going to get that he is using all his tasks to avoid the prince.

It isn’t until the next day when Obi spots Ryuu staring at him from across the courtyard that he thinks he might need to change tactics. Avoiding the prince is far more difficult than avoiding Shirayuki, who works constantly in the pharmacy when she isn’t gathering plants. Apparently, Obi made a habit of dropping by far more often than he thought.

“Did I do something?” asks Ryuu when Obi approaches.

“What? Of course not.” Uh oh.

Ryuu’s face pinches slightly. Obi regrets a lot of various things instantly.

“Then, is it Shirayuki you’re avoiding?”

Ah, there it is. “I’m sorry, little Ryuu,” says Obi, reaching out a hand to ruffle his hair. “I’ve been busy, is all. I’ll try to drop in more often.”

“Okay,” says Ryuu. “Good.”

When the boy leaves, Obi releases a sigh. Time to switch tactics.

The next day, he makes a point of visiting the pharmacy. Shirayuki is in, and when she turns to see Obi leaning in the window, her face brightens. Obi basks in it. It feels as though he may be poisoning himself by overexposure.

That evening, Obi joins Zen in his study as he works. He comes in through the window, open for a breeze and a shadow, and takes his position off to one side. Kiki is present as well. If Obi isn’t mistaken, he thinks he spots a smile on her usually impassive face. The prince himself doesn’t appear to have noticed Obi’s arrival. The room is filled with the scratch of Zen’s pen and the pages of the hefty book in Kiki’s hands. Eventually Kiki excuses herself for a moment. As soon as the door clicks shut behind her, Zen finishes his signature with a flourish and reaches for a new page.

“Nothing need change,” says Zen suddenly. Obi’s gaze snaps to stare at the back of his head, where he had been stubbornly not looking for the past hour. “Unless you want it to.”

The prince says nothing more until he’s finished his work, by which time Kiki has returned and he’s dismissing them for the evening. When Obi leaves to grab dinner from the mess hall, his mind is unfortunately running Zen’s words on repeat. Change what? And only if he wants it to? Obi almost wishes that Zen was more straightforward about it.

Or that Obi is able to believe that what Zen meant is what he hopes—

He takes a corner too fast and collides spectacularly with a stack of boxes—or actually, a stack of boxes with arms and legs and a bloom of scarlet hair.

Obi manages to catch one box, Shirayuki firmly wrapped around the bottom one, while the third hits the stone and scatters its contents everywhere. Seeds spill out across the floor. Obi thinks he actually hears Shirayuki breathe out a curse.

“Sorry, miss,” says Obi at once, kneeling to put the box down and work on cleaning up the seeds.

“Oh, Obi! It’s fine, nothing’s damaged.” She sets aside her own box to help him. “Times like these I wonder why seeds must be so small.”

“Just so they can grow into these cracks,” says Obi, using his nail to free several from between the stone slabs. “Do you think the king would mind having a herb garden in the middle of the walkway?”

Shirayuki grimaces. “I don’t suppose we could make it sound like a good idea.”

Obi laughs. Working together, the seeds return to their jar quickly. Obi helps Shirayuki with her balancing act, carefully stacking the boxes in her arms. They don’t seem that cumbersome—someone whipping around the corner would make anyone drop their belongings—but Obi is still tempted to ask if she needs any help.

“Obi, did you happen to speak with Zen today?”

The temptation fizzles out instantly. Now Obi just wants to backflip the way he’d come and vanish from sight.

“Only briefly,” admits Obi, “but he was… busy.”

“Oh, I see.” She looks disappointed. “Say, about Zen, do you—?”

“I’m gonna be late!” interrupts Obi with barely concealed panic. “Guard duty, you know how it is.” He wants to kick himself. “Don’t stay up too late counting seeds, miss.”

Obi flees to Shirayuki’s spluttering farewell. He knows he wouldn’t be able to lie to her face. Redirecting and running away is his only option, as cowardly as it is. Obi doesn’t think he’d be able to live through a conversation like that. Oh, yes, I like my master. A lot. More than a knight should. In fact, I fancy you the same. Is that strange? And then he’d have to toss himself off the castle wall, or someplace higher since he might accidentally land properly.

Over the next few days, Obi struggles to come to terms with the fact that all his tiptoeing is impeding his work. He’s distracted while on guard duty, which is never fine even if it’s peaceful; while attending Zen, he’s constantly on edge, expecting the prince to point it out, or worse, try to confront Obi about the source of his problems. Worst of all is that the root of every issue since has been because Obi couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Too much comfort, too much trust, and he’d let slip too much honesty. It’s too late to pass it off as a declaration of eternal friendship. He’s been acting too odd.

This may be the first time that Obi has truly felt such intense regret. Well, there was that time when—okay, so maybe it’s the first time feeling it about something that should be…not a big deal.

Let time heal, he tells himself during one afternoon at Zen’s shoulder, checking the grounds. Those three words sound especially good, so Obi continues to chant them in his head until the syllables blur together.

“Obi.”

He snaps to attention, meeting Zen’s eyes when his prince turns to address him. The tassels on his uniform swish. Ridiculous. Unnecessary flourishes. Obi really likes them.

“I need these materials for when we go to Wilant castle,” says Zen, furling a piece of paper he’d been writing on without Obi even realizing. Damn, he really is out of it. “Remind the night guard to check their blades before we go, as well.”

“Yes, master,” says Obi as he accepts the paper. A quick glance shows him it’s mostly items the quartermaster can take care of. Some he might have to ask the blacksmith about. Perhaps Mitsuhide and Kiki would have advice about obtaining those items.

Obi’s first mistake is not steering the conversation along its current route. When Zen lifts his hand to run it through his hair, Obi should have known. Instead, he’s distracted by work—for once—and his prince is sneakier than he gives him credit for.

“I don’t plan on cornering you about the other night,” says Zen. Third mistake: not interrupting him then and there. “I think it’s important we talk about it, however.”

Zen’s gaze bores into Obi’s when he makes his fourth mistake: looking up.

“Shirayuki and I will wait in the greenhouse when the pharmacy closes up.”

He doesn’t say anything more, but simply dismisses Obi as if their chores for the day have been finished, and Obi leaves with a curious tingling in his belly and chest and head and—damn. He’s certainly spent too much time with them.

Instead of floating about the castle mindlessly, his brain on overdrive, Obi finds a tree with dense enough foliage to hide him from curious eyes. There, he thinks.

Overthinks, actually.

Obi prides himself in being able to discern the slightest changes in Zen and Shirayuki’s expressions. That’s how he works, first of all, and secondly, well, he’s maybe overly aware of them, together and apart. Obi has seen the way their faces light up when they see each other, even just hearing each other’s names in casual conversation. He’s seen them come together like a whirlwind, a warm and cold front forming a storm that draws Obi in and keeps him trapped.

He may love watching lightning and listening to thunder, but how much longer until it breaks his heart?

That’s never something that he thought would ever happen. To Obi, love is a distant thing. He contented himself with brief encounters and briefer friendships. The only people he trusted were those that he knew didn’t trust him. Predictable—that’s how he liked people.

Until Zen. Until Shirayuki. Until this cursed feeling blooming in his chest.

Obi knows he wouldn’t give up their friendship for all the riches in the world, yet it seems as though he might be the cause of it shattering nevertheless.

Inevitable is the word that comes to mind. This is what he gets for trusting too much, for wanting.

When the sun’s descent is in full swing, and the sky is melting into warmer hues, Obi drops from his perch back to earth. There’s no avoiding it now.

The walk to the greenhouse is faster than Obi remembers. His feet seem lighter, moving too swiftly, carrying his body too fast, too soon, towards his doom. Obi isn’t one for dramatics, not truly, but this certainly feels like the end of his world as he knows it.

He hopes that maybe, at least, he might be able to joke about it later.

The greenhouse is stifling and warm, as usual. Obi, at least, can blame the prickling of sweat at the nape of his neck on the enclosed space. Unfortunately, Zen and Shirayuki are waiting as promised. Zen is pacing like he might wear a path into the floor itself; Shirayuki is sitting at a bench, but her hands are clamped together in her lap and her gaze fixated on some indiscernible point. Obi almost turns on his heel there and then, but holds still. It takes Zen a moment, while in mid-turn, to catch sight of him.

“Obi!”

He says it as though surprised Obi came—as though elated.

Obi refuses to look too deeply into it.

Shirayuki’s gaze sharpens to focus on him, and she rises to her feet the same moment that Zen ceases pacing. Her hands slide out of sight behind her skirt. Obi tries to pay attention to the little things—Shirayuki’s rosy cheeks, Zen’s disheveled hair—but none are anything new to file away. He’s already memorized them all.

Zen opens his mouth to speak, but Obi beats him to it.

“I apologize if something I said confused you both.”

They both twitch, as though startled.

Zen is the one to ask, “Do you not care about us?”

“…I do,” says Obi. Lying about that would be too cruel—too false.

“You enjoy our company?” prompts Shirayuki next. “I do.”

“You wish to—“

“No more. Please.”

“Obi—“

“I don’t mean to be rude, miss,” interrupts Obi, something burning oddly in his chest, “but I really don’t think we should be having this conversation.”

Zen rolls his eyes. “For the love of—Obi, do you love us?”

“Uh—“ splutters Obi awkwardly. Damn him, coming out of nowhere with the surprise attack. That’s supposed to be Obi’s specialty.

“Yes or no question.”

“Is it, though?” says Obi weakly.

“Well,” concedes Shirayuki, “maybe not. I still want to know the answer though. You said you do.”

“He already admitted he fancied you ages ago,” says Zen to Shirayuki.

Ah, sweet betrayal. Obi does his best not to turn tail and run. That wouldn’t be very becoming of a knight.

“Oh,” breathes Shirayuki, before rounding on Obi with newfound determination. “Do you care for Zen the same way? Similar?”

At this point, Obi realizes there is no fighting it. They are going to force it out of him anyway—and it isn’t like he hasn’t already said it, so really, he’s just clarifying. Or something. Why do feelings have to be so difficult?

“It occurs to me that Obi might be emotionally repressed,” says Zen before Obi can even open his mouth. “Alright, Obi. I trust you as a comrade, I respect you as a knight, I care for you as a friend, and I—well, I…”

He trails off, turning a startling shade of crimson. Still, he’s keeping up a very impressive expression of determination.

“Really, Master,” Obi can’t help but say dryly, “if you’re going to confess to me, shouldn’t you have your words already sorted?”

He almost means it as a joke. Almost.

“I don’t want to hear that from you!” splutters the prince. “I—I want you by my side. As I can’t imagine a future without Shirayuki, neither can I imagine it without you.”

There’s an ache in Obi’s chest that demands he do something about it, but he can’t. He shouldn’t. “What about mister Mitsuhide and miss Kiki?”

“Different,” says Zen at once. “I trust them with my life and I care for and respect them, but I don’t imagine waking up beside them every morning.”

“Ah,” says Obi intelligently. “Um.”

“What our prince means to say,” says Shirayuki, her words strong despite the glow of her blush, “is that there’s a different level of intimacy. As for me—“ She meets Obi’s gaze steadfastly, “—I feel most at ease when I know both of you are safe, where I can—with—with me.”

“What she said,” mumbles Zen, struggling to appear princely.

Obi blinks between them. “So,” he says slowly, his mouth impossibly dry, “if I have…thoughts about embracing or—or touching either of you, then you…wouldn’t mind if I did?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” says Zen, hands on his hips. He looks to Shirayuki. “You?”

She shakes her head, lips pursed around a smile. “No, definitely not.”

Impossible.

“So, you…” Obi’s heart begins running at full speed. “Towards me…”

“Yes, you fool,” blurts out Zen, looking on the verge of a scowl, yet his mouth quirking towards a grin.

“I didn’t realize you were so obtuse,” says Shirayuki with some awe. “Really, Obi, at this rate Zen is going to be bedridden with high blood pressure.”

“Shirayuki…”

Obi can’t stop staring. There they are, right before him, laughing at his—and each other’s—expense. As usual. Except there’s something more, something rose-coloured and vibrant, and it isn’t blocking him out. No, instead it’s enveloping him and filling him with a warmth he didn’t think he would ever feel, never mind deserve.

“I love you two,” he says abruptly, cutting across Zen’s weak protests and Shirayuki’s laughter.

They go quiet, exchange a meaningful look, and turn to him with matching grins far more mischievous than he thinks he could have taught them.

“And we love you,” says Shirayuki warmly.

The hug that follows—two pairs of arms trying to navigate with a hesitant third—is as awkward and wonderful as Obi could ever have imagined. He doesn’t know how long it might take to be able to approach them confidently, but when Zen tightens his embrace around them and Shirayuki gives a wet sort of giggle, Obi decides it would be okay to figure it out with the both of them beside him.

[lokisgame]

Spill Drinks And Be Merry

A result of brainstorm with @mulders-boyish-enthousiasm 

Pure fluff set after One Breath. I hope this will be as fun to read as it was fun to write. 

“Mulder, it’s me” the answering machine spoke in Scully’s voice and he was on high alert instantly. “Melissa is leaving town tomorrow and she was wondering” a hiss followed by a whisper made him smile slightly, was that a giggle?

“We” Scully corrected herself “were wondering if you’d join us for drinks tonight. Nothing fancy, it’s just that we didn’t have a chance to celebrate properly and”

The answering machine cut her off and seeing there was no more new messages, he called her right back.

“Scully?” There it was, that giggle again, must be Melissa, Scully never giggled.

“Oh, hi, I was just about to call you” she sounded flustered and it was adorable.

“I got your message, count me in, just tell me when and where.”

“7pm, the place where we met about the Budahas case?”

“Sure, great, I’ll see you then”

“Okay” he thought she’d hang up, but she surprised him with more questions “what were you working on last night?”

“Nothing” he said pointedly “you’re still on sick-leave, get well first, then we’ll talk shop”

“Fine, whatever” her dismissive tone made them both laugh “I’ll see you tonight”

“I’ll be there” Mulder assured her and they hung up as usual, without saying goodbye.

A Saturday wasn’t exactly a business day at the Hoover Building, so he could get away with casual clothes, sports jacket and jeans, with simple tie and a button down shirt.

Still, there was no rest for the wicked and crime labs worked as usual. He wanted to talk about tests he ordered the night before but with Scully still on leave he had to do it with the lab staff personally. Mulder knew how impatient she was to prove herself ready to get back in the saddle but his goal was to keep her away from work as long as possible. He wanted her back, sooner rather than later, but not as much as he wanted her back to full health.

Around lunch Mulder parked the car in his usual spot on the lowest level of the FBI headquarters parking lot and headed for the crime labs. Before he knew it, the sun went down.

“What time is it?”

A young agent in pristine white lab coat who walked him through the analysis if a fibre sample now resting under a microscope replied “Almost 7pm”

“Shit, why didn’t you tell me, don’t you have some place to be?” Mulder panicked and turned into a White Rabbit from Alice, running around lab, gathering notes like mad.

“No, not really” the kid watched him a little curious.

“Geez, man, you should get a life or something” Mulder smiled and shrugged into his jacket.

“Like you have one” the younger man challenged, wondering if the secretarial pool’s daydreams about Spooky Mulder were true.

“Tonight I do” one foot out the door he instructed “send your conclusions to my office, I’ll get back to you on Monday”

“Sure, whatever you say Agent Mulder”

“And Pendrell, I mean it, life’s too short to spend Saturday nights locked up in here”

The door banged shut, glass ringing on edge of breaking, and Pendrell sighed heavily “Like you’d know what it’s like to be lonely”

Mulder managed to get to the pub within the boundaries of fashionably late and, looking over the crowd, spotted two redheads picking their martinis of the waitresses’s tray and made his way to their table.

“Good evening” he raised his voice over the noise of the crowd, hand automatically finding it’s place on the small of Scully’s back. Her attention caught but not startled, she looked up and lit up from the inside.

Something in Dana’s eyes changed when they shared each other’s space. They looked so comfortable around each other that Melissa thought they would kiss hello then and there, but they didn’t. Mulder took the third bar stool and called back the waitress before she ran away, ordering whiskey and a beer.

“So we’re celebrating what? Exactly” Scully asked her sister who was essentially responsible for this meeting.

“Your miraculous awakening, family and friendship” she said saluting both of them cheerfully and making Mulder shrug as if it was as good a reason as any. Scully smiled a wicked smile leaping at the chance to take some of the focus of herself

“In that case, we should drink to your birthday as well!” She declared, looking at Mulder

“My birthday was a month ago” he protested, trying not to think about how he got drunk on Jack Daniels and guilt and had to call in sick the next day.

“I know, but I missed it and from now on I don’t wanna miss a thing” she explained and raised her glass, daring him to stop her. The girl came back with his drink.

“Who am I to say no to that” Mulder raised his hand with theirs.

“To new beginnings” Melissa announced and the glasses clinked.

“Now, just so we’re clear” Missy looked between Mulder and Scully “what is it that the two of you do, exactly?”

An hour later, she was as clueless as ever, but felt more entertained than she could ever remember. Mulder was half way through a story about a couple of kids they met at an air force base hunting UFO’s and running from black helicopters.

“It was an experimental plane Mulder” Scully argued.

“You were there Scully, you saw the lights, no plane could move like that” he laughed and emptied his beer, glancing at it surprised “another round?”

“Sure” Missy smiled watching them bicker.

“I don’t know what I saw” Scully tried to defend herself, but he only half listened because he was looking at the waitress who, as Missy noticed, had an eye on him the whole evening. A fact that to her amusement, escaped him completely. He signaled for another round of the same and turned back to them and his story.

“Is it just me or is it getting warm in here?” seeing him shrug out of his jacket and loosen the tie Melissa wondered how Dana could work around this guy. He was seriously hot.

“It’s the alcohol” Scully smiled picking the last olive from her drink.

“Where was I”

“Bright lights” Missy supplied.

“Right, so, there were these bright lights moving against the clouds like crazy”

He was talking with his hands now and before the girls had time to warn him, two vodka martinis were flying through the air in wide arches. Bitter-sweet liquid splashing over the front of his shirt making him jump back and freeze in place looking down at himself, bewildered.

“Oh dear” Scully covered her eyes, not sure if she’ll be able to control her laugh, and Missy watched wide eyed as the waitress snapped out of her embarrassment and started to apologize.

“I’m so sorry, sir” she wiped the table as quickly as possible, picking up broken glass and spilled olives. A small crowd congealed around them, ready for action as Mulder kept looking at his shirt, dangerously silent until he burst out... laughing. He laughed uncontrollably for a long minute as the girls watched him, as confused as everyone else.

“It’s okay, really” he gasped wiping his eyes “It’s my fault”

Scully looked at him giggling under her breath, and when their eyes met, they both laughed again.

“I’ll bring you fresh drinks right now, on the house of course” the girl ran from the madman before his good humor turned into something else.

“Thank you” Scully called after her and looked back at Mulder “You’re a mess”

“I can see that” he grinned and shook his head “Excuse me”

He went for the restrooms and both sisters sat back at the cleaned up table. Missy couldn’t believe what she saw.

“Dana, who is this guy?”

“What do you mean?” Scully picked up and folded his jacket, hanging it over the back of his chair.

“I saw him when you were unconscious, it’s like he’s a completely different person.”

“Oh, that” she smiled and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture Missy knew since they were little girls.

“Yes, that” she leaned closer and whispered suggestively “Are you and him?”

“What? NO!”

Dana’s response was fast, but not fast enough, Missy knew her better than that. Even if she didn’t realize it, her little sister was on a fast track to falling for her partner. Just as it was clear, it was too late for him.

“Well, I’m not so sure if he’d be as against it as you are” the challenge was clear, but before Scully could deny again, Mulder came back, and both women lost their ability to speak for a moment.

He skipped trying to save the shirt and got rid of it, leaving only a tight fitting, white short sleeved undershirt, untucked over the leather belt of his jeans. He looked like he just stepped out of a cover of a magazine.

“Sorry” he seemed a little unsure when he sat at the table “the shirt was beyond saving”

Missy gathered her thoughts first “No, it’s okay, you just need...”

She reached out unceremoniously and ruffled Mulder’s hair, using her fingers to comb through them this way and that. Scully watched her with astonishment that quickly turned into amusement when he closed his eyes and smiled sheepishly, blushing like a boy caught by one of his favorite young cousins or aunts.

“There, much better” Melissa looked pleased. Against all odds he looked even better, a controlled mess. She smiled glancing at the girls checking him out, clearly interested, but God bless his soul, he didn’t notice even a single one of them.

“Thanks” he finally straightened and on cue, the waitress came back with fresh drinks. Mulder theatricaly sat on his hands and all three girls laughed with him.

Two rounds later Cindy Lauper wanted to have fun and so did Mulder.

“Come on Scully” he grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet “time for payback, you say it’s my birthday, so I want you to dance with me”

Missy was already gone, swept away by some tall-dark-skined-and-handsome Jamaican-artist-type, and having no one to turn to, Scully followed her characteristically over-eager partner.

He wasn’t the best dancer since Fred Astaire, but he didn’t step on her toes and moved with delightfully easy grace. She laughed as she twirled holding his hand, and as he spun her out the length of his arm to draw her right back in with a flair that would pull baby out of her corner, no questions asked. She saw a whole new side of him and he of her, a side he hoped to see more often.

The cheerful anthem faded and a calm, almost sad guitar caught them with arms locked around each other. Driving for hours through towns and villages, they both knew the song well.

When the day is long, and the nights, the night is yours alone.

And sure you had enough, of this life, hang on.

She tried to take a step back but Mulder stopped her “Wait, one more”

The gentle weight of his arm around her waist and a pleading look in his eyes made her rest one hand on his shoulder and give in to the warmth and solid reassurance of his arms.

“Thank you” he whispered leaning down so that she could hear him “for the late birthday”

“You did nothing when I was gone?” His incredulous half-laugh broke her heart.

He let go of her hand and wrapped both arms around her waist.

“I couldn’t do anything when you were gone”

Was it the alcohol or the song, he didn’t care, she was here and he held on.

Don’t throw your hand,

If you feel like you’re alone

No, no, no, you’re not alone

“Missy told me, some of it” Scully draped her arms over his shoulders “mom said you kept looking for me”

“I almost” he wanted to say he choked Duane Barry, but stoped himself.

“It was bad Scully. They already shut down the X-files, and” his voice broke and she knew it was more than just the alcohol.

“I thought I lost you” he finished slowly, steadily, though she could feel his breath shaking.

“I’m here Mulder” she reassured him, lips by his ear as they moved in a small circle “I’m here”

He held on, as if someone could snatch her from this very spot, in this very moment.

“I won’t let something like this happen to you, ever again” he promised.

The world around them got lost in music, and all that was left was gratitude. Acceptance, that they were more than just simple partners and friends. Even if they ever drifted apart, this moment of realization forged a quiet and unbreakable pact between them.

[spideyxchelle]

Spideychelle headcanons based off zac and zendaya in the greatest showman trailer? You're awesome by the way your headcanons are definitely some of the best I've ever read!!

awww, this is so nice. I LOVE THIS FANDOM SO MUCH.

so, um, I’ve wanted to work on this headcanon since I got it. and it felt very intimidating because its AU and, y i k e s, fam, yikes. also this time period has some sensitive race stuff that I was nervous about writing. but I adore you all and I am very intrigued by this. so I have given it a whirl. hope you like it!

MJ has never heard of a circus before. 

she has, however, heard of Barnum’s American Museum of Curiosity on the corner of Broadway and Ann Street in New York City. its a place that wealthy, fancy white people go to gawk at people who are less traditional looking than they are. when she read about it in the paper she was less than impressed by this whole BARNUM character. who exploits those less fortunate to turn a profit? 

and then, she meets P.T. Barnum and she realizes she might have been wrong about him. she’s still weird about the whole exploitation thing but when she meets him she realizes he really does think every person at his museum is spectacular and beautiful and amazing. and his museum was meant to celebrate all different kinds of people. 

P.T. Barnum isn’t the problem. it’s the white people that pay to go to his museum that are the problem. they sneer instead of celebrate. and Barnum hates that attitude, so he wants to create a show. 

or that’s what he tells her when he comes to her dance studio on a Thursday morning bright and early. 

“i’m putting together a show,” he grins so broadly that it almost doesn’t fit on his face, “and it’s gonna travel all over this great country so every person sees how diverse and wonderful and special humanity is.” and MJ won’t lie, she’s intrigued. so she asks, “what do you want from me?” “i have an idea,” he explains, “about putting dance in the air….with rope.” she shakes her head, “rope is too hard. maybe fabric would hold and not hurt the dancer, maybe silk?”

and that’s how she becomes a silk aerialist in the Barnum Circus. because she is the mastermind behind this new art form. and its the 1800s and MJ is a black woman, she very rarely gets to be in control of ANYTHING. but the circus isn’t like the rest of the world. the circus is her home. a place of acceptance and she is an innovator, an inventor and a respected member of the team. 

“every one of us is special,” she hears Barnum say one day, “and no one is like anyone else. is that is the point of my show.” it makes her heart warm. but then one of her dances executes a move wrong and she’s off yelling and screaming for everyone to do it RIGHT. 

they play to small crowds at first. the energy is palpable but she can tell everyone is confused. because what even is a circus?? MJ is still learning. and then, they start to having bigger and bigger crowds. AND ITS ALL HAPPENING SO FAST. the show expands, they get their own train car to travel across the country.  

and day by day they gain more and more and more people in the circus. new acts, new blood. and her new family is now a lot bigger. 

one of those new acts is Peter Parker. he’s a distant cousin of Barnum’s and once he’s on board it becomes very clear that he’s training Peter to run the circus one day. he will be the new showman. so MJ hates him on principle. because he can’t just MARCH IN HERE and all of the sudden RUN THE SHOW.

and the rest of the circus is weary of him as well. but the attitude quickly changes because apparently he’s nice. and kind and understanding and an innovator like his cousin, Mr. Barnum. he keeps wanting to push the show to new heights and he keeps bringing on new people that have no place in the world but a home in the circus. he loves people. 

MJ is the only one who doesn’t thaw. because, well, fuck Peter Parker. and she knows that he can tell she’s got some serious disdain for him. 

and it all comes to a head, one day, when she walks into her tent to practice with her troop of girls and one of them is showing Peter the silks. he’s good. a natural. like he was meant to swing through the sky. and, frankly, it makes her even more inclined to dislike him. 

“what’s going on here?” the girls all scurry at her booming voice, but Peter only smiles and slides down the silk to touch the floor. “one of the girls thought-” “I don’t care what they thought. this is my tent, those are my silks. this is my part of the show. and you don’t get to just walk in here and put your grubby hands all over it.” 

his face falls, “that wasn’t what I was trying to do, ma’am.” 

“well, Mr. Parker, perhaps not. but this is my troop.” 

“Miss Jones,” he whispers, trying not to spook her girls, “perhaps we could talk somewhere in private?” “I will not be told off by the new guy, no sir. not even if he’s Mr. Barnum’s cousin. especially, then.” he looks wounded by her gab and all she can think is good. 

the following day she walks into her tent and sees a new contraption hanging from the ceiling. it looks like a swing but its hanging very high in the air. there is a freshly built ladder to get to the swing. she starts walking toward the ladder and sees Mr. Parker waiting. she scowls, “what’s this?” “a trapeze.” “and what in heaven’s name is that?” “i saw it in France, ma’am. you swing from swing to swing. upside down.” “and why is it in my tent?” “i thought you could add it to your show. you’re very talented, Miss Jones. and I am only trying to help. no matter whose cousin I am. I care about this show.” 

he doesn’t say anything else to her. he leaves her alone with the trapeze. and she starts to experiment. she takes to the trapeze with startling ease. within five months her and her girls and ready to add it officially to the show. 

they’re in chicago when they open with this act. and the whole crowd goes wild. but as she swings upsidedown from her trapeze she sees Mr. Parker standing with his hands in his pockets watching her from the crowd. their eyes meet and she feels more than disdain. she feels something. and she’s certain it has nothing to do with the trapeze. 

for the next three cities he stands in the same place in the tent so he can watch her show, so he can see her. and it makes her uncomfortable. she’s a black woman in a country that only just disbanded slavery. she shouldn’t even be looking at Mr. Parker. but how can she not when he looks back? 

they are in St. Louis when he finds her after the show. she’s working on a rope, making sure there is enough strength on the ceiling to hold some aerial dancers when Mr. Parker walks across the ring and meets her. she’s very aware of how alone they are. 

he pockets his hand and smiles, “Miss Jones.” “Mr. Parker,” she nods. “I-” he tries to speak but shakes his head. “What?” she asks. “you were…absolutely beautiful tonight, if you don’t mind me saying.” her face heats up, “that’s very kind.” “I’m glad you like the trapeze.” “yes, thank you for it.” “I know,” his voice cracks, “you aren’t fond of me. you’ve made that clear. but I would be remiss if I didn’t say, just once, how much I admire you.” “well that’s very kin-” “I really admire you, MJ.” she stalls. because no one outside of her troop of girls call her MJ. it feels familiar. too familiar. “Mr. Parker, I’m a black woman..and you’re a white man. you know that, yes?” “I don’t care,” he shrugs, tugging on the rope between them absently, “if you think you could ever return my affections…I would be very devoted to you.” she’s suddenly breathless, “you don’t even know me.” “it’s strange,” he shrugs, “i feel like I do. like I have for a hundred lifetimes.” and she knows what he means.

so when she nods and decides to fall down the rabbit hole with him the last thing she notices is his BLINDING smile as he tugs on the rope between them and she feels them ascend into the air. 

the next few months are a whirlwind. courting in a circus environment is less traditional than any other setting. but Peter, she’s learned to call him Peter, is set on wooing her properly. he sets up amazing dinners in her dressing room and buys her nice clothes and one time he kisses her behind the animal tent and she feels her whole world tilt on its access. but Peter is reckless. and she hates that about him as much as she loves it about him. 

he acts like the whole world is as diverse and as accepting as the circus world. they live in a bubble. they world is not this advanced yet. in northern cities when they are out and about people stare but its not nearly as bad as southern cities. MJ tries not to go out at all when they aren’t performing. 

but Peter is so proud of her. he wants to show her off. he wants her on his arm. he wants to MARRY her. which is the most ridiculous thing of all. he’s a visionary, Barnum likes to say, a romantic visionary. 

it all comes tumbling down when they’re in Atlanta for a new show. her and Peter have been courting for around seven months and he decides to take her out on the town. she’s against it. she doesn’t even want to leave the safety of the circus but his stupid smile wears her down against her better judgement. 

they go out for dinner, MJ on Peter’s arm and a group of men stop to heckle them in the street. they call her every name in the book, insult Peter. and she tries to pull him away. it’s not worth it, she whispers, let’s just go home. but Peter won’t let injustice stand. he can’t. he’s so stupidly noble. 

and its when he tries to stand up for her it all goes down south. there are too many of them. and they attack her first. all they get is a little rough with her before Peter is barreling into the group and punching at everyone within three feet of her. he’s surprisingly strong. he manages to fight well. but he starts to lose the fight. that’s when he begs her to run. to get back to the circus. to be safe. at any cost. 

she wants to say but the desperation in her voice makes her flee. when she returns to the big top looking ruffled and horrible she barely manages to get out the story before a group from the circus, the whole lot of them, start to grab some bats and such and go out in search of Peter. 

when they find him. he’s not good. 

he spends four days unconscious in an Atlanta hospital bed. and when he wakes up, she’s there holding his hand. even in his bruised and beaten state she adores him. she kisses his hand and mumbles, “you idiot.” his eyes shine, “i got a few good licks in.” “you stupid, stupid idiot. you should have left it alone.” “i’m going to marry you,” is all he says. and his smile is so certain she wants to scream. because if this proved anything its that they can’t be together.

but peter won’t be deterred. when he can walk again he goes to his uncle and tells him he’s going to marry her. she argues. screams. says no. and all peter does is kiss her nose and reiterate that he is going to marry her. 

Barnum smiles and shrugs in that magical way that he always did, a way that made everyone sit up more attentive like he was about to change the world, and said, “I’m thinking of starting a circus in france. interracial marriage is legal there, did you know?” and Peter’s whole face LIGHTS up. 

MJ starts to sputter because she can’t move to france. what about her troop. what about the circus? but Barnum calmly tells them that he’s going to start a circus in france, that acrobats are already in trend there. and that the circus will sell well. he just needs someone to run it. 

so they move to france. and they run their own Barnum Family Circus. and Peter marries her just like he always insisted he would. he marries her proudly in the middle of the center ring in their big top tent. and she rolls her eyes but says her vows.