#the main concern is really nails. and i can perfectly well do them tonight i just dont super want to

[canyourlawnmowerdothis]

oh fuck i have to hit the slay button on a way tighter schedule than i thought. its ok i can do it

[nagito-kissmaeda]

I don't know if I've Talked to you yet? But may i get Nagito with a Talentless! S/o who's a Degradee. So whenever He Gets angry and Talks about her because of her talent. She's attracted to it. But is able to hide it for a while. But one day she slips up ane admit she likes it to hajime and nagito happens to overhear it. (I'd love a Nsfw Fic) if your open.

ミ☆ Thanks for the request! This was very interesting for me to write because i dont usually make Komaeda so.......mean. It does get pretty filthy so i hope that’s okay ahah.  Word Count:  2882

Warnings: Fem reader, no pronouns, explicit sexual content, degradation, possessive behaviour

You’re not sure that Komaeda’s insults are having their desired effect.

Generally, the other students of class 77-B treat you perfectly well, even kindly. You’d braided Sonia’s hair for her once when it was windy and getting in her eyes, after that she seemed to take a liking to you and started inviting you to eat lunch with her in the main course building. At first you were very nervous, shaking as you lurked in the doorway, holding your bento box between your quivering hands. 

But then, “Good afternoon, everyone! I’d like you all to meet my new friend!” Sonia said brightly, and everything sort of fell into place.

Everything except Komaeda. 

Presently, he has you backed up against a wall, one hand pressed up beside your head. He’s quite a bit taller than you, and has to crane his head down when his lip curls up in disgust. You aren’t really sure what his problem is, but he finds a way to antagonise you almost every day. Like he’s trying to convince you to snap. It isn’t working, but it is doing something else.

“How much did your parents pay, huh?” He whispers, voice eerily delicate even as his eyes burn with vitriol, “How much did you sacrifice just so you could pretend to be worth something?”

Your mouth has gone dry. Your eyes flit around his face, trying too hard not to focus on the subtle movement of his lips. 

“Ah, are you too afraid to answer? Afraid of what I might think of you?” 

You are not afraid. 

Komaeda leans in closer, lips curling up in a snarl, “you mustn’t concern yourself with such things.“

You are something far worse than that.

“My opinion of you will remain less than dirt regardless of your answer.” 

You are aroused and a pathetic little moan breaks away from your mouth at the feeling of his breath on your face, at his closeness, and the way he leers down at you like you are nothing more than a nuisance to him. His tongue darts out of his mouth to wet his lower lip and you whine . 

He laughs, mistaking the sound for one of fear, “The only reason I don’t pull you from our classroom and lock the door behind you, is because Sonia seems to enjoy your company. I’m sure her little fancy will not last long.” He smiles, “so make the most of the honour while it lasts.”

Komaeda leans back from you, and it feels like you can finally catch your breath again. Trying your hardest to ignore the way your heart is racing and just how wet your panties are getting. He does not seem to notice, lips curling up in a smirk that makes your breath hitch as he turns on his heel.

He did not notice the effect he was having on you. Far too concerned with trying to get you away from the rest of his ultimate classmates before you have a chance to dirty them with your pathetic presence. After all, even he was above you and that was saying something. Komaeda leaves you quivering in the hallway and heads back through the open door of classroom 77-B, but the sound of running feet brings him pause. He closes the door most of the way, leaving it open enough that he can watch through the gap without you noticing. 

“Hey.” Hinata says breathlessly, coming to a stop where you are still leaning against the wall, “I saw Komaeda bothering you, are you alright?” 

Komaeda scoffs. Hinata is just as much a problem as you are, always hanging around Nanami-san like it’s his given right. 

“Huh?” You say, still noticeably shaking, “oh I’m fine.” 

Komaeda smirks. If asked, he would claim that he only harassed you for the good of his fellow classmates; he would not admit the exhiliarion he feels in the moments when he finally gets to be better than someone. When he has you up against a wall like that, when he talks down to you like that. He feels something in his gut. A twisting that feels almost euphoric. 

Hinata huffs and crosses his arms, “look, that guy's an asshole. I can see you shaking, did he threaten you or something?” 

“No! Not really? I’m just…..uh…..” Komaeda can see you twisting your hands with nerves, his brows draw together in confusion, “I think I…like it…” 

Hinata balks, “wait. What?” He hisses, and Komaeda is thinking something very similar.

“When he’s mean to me like that.” You breathe, chewing on your lower lip, “when he has me up against the wall I...feel...good…” 

“No. Stop. Please.” Hinata exclaims, waving his hands in front of his face, “look, we’ve got to get to class. I don’t want to hear anymore about this. Okay?” 

Komaeda’s breath is caught in his throat as he watches the both of you walking back down the hall. Horrified at the tightness in his crotch. He whirls around and leans back on the wall, cupping a hand over his mouth to hide his heavy breathing. 

Those little noises you were making, the way you were shaking beneath him. 

This had not been his intention. 

Though, he supposes he can entertain the idea. Just to see how you react. It might even be fun. 

*

A few days later, you are back in the mostly vacant classroom with Sonia and Ibuki, the latter is in the middle of painting the nails on your right hand. 

“I know you said you don't really like this colour, but it glows in the dark, so that makes up for it, rigggggght?” Ibuki says; her nailpolish skills are lacking so your fingers are a bit of a mess, but you’re having fun anyway. 

“I think i might scare myself tonight when i turn the lights off and my fingers start glowing.” you laugh, Sonia titters politely behind her hand, but her expression quickly changes. 

“Oh.” She says, looking over your shoulder, “Hello, Nagito.”

You freeze. Throat going dry. You are not prepared for another encounter with Komaeda. 

“Ah, Hello. It’s nice to see the both of you.” He says. It does not escape your notice that he purposefully didn't even acknowledge your presence. 

“Don’t get too close naggy-waggy.” Ibuki replies, tongue sticking out as she starts painting the nails on your other hand, “I must focus on my art!”

A shiver runs up your spine when you feel the warmth of another body behind you. Komaeda leans over your shoulder to look down at your nails as Ibuki paints them, you can feel his breath on the side of your neck, you can smell him. He smells really good, why does he have to smell so good?

“You’ve improved a lot since your last attempt, Mioda-san.” Komaeda says, you can practically feel the words on your skin.

Ibuki laughs, “Kaz was a very good sport when I spilled it all over his arms! Plus! He was glowing for three days straight and i actually think it looked pretty sick!!!” 

“You're very lucky to have someone as wonderful as Mioda-san do your nails.” Komaeda breathes, you turn your head just a little. His face is so close to yours, his lips quirked up in the corners just enough that you know he is mocking you. Then, as he finally begins to stand back up again, he whispers in your ear, “after all, you’re just a pathetic reserve course student, aren't you?”

You feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear, and you swear it can't be intentional, but a shudder runs through you so powerful that you accidentally bump the nailpolish out of Ibuki’s hand. 

You are too busy trying to help her and Sonia clean up the mess, to notice the way Komaeda looks back, hands in his pockets and smirking at how easy it was to rattle you.

Yes, he thinks. This will be fun. 

*

It continues like this for some time. Komaeda is always lingering close to you, whispering in your ear. He’s always loved watching you squirm, but now it feels like he is doing more often, more shamelessly. After weeks of what feels like almost endless torment, something finally snaps. 

You’re dashing down the hall at lunch, it’s a decent walk from the reserve course building to the main course, so you really have to put the leg work in if you want to spend any real time with Sonia before heading back over again. You round a corner and run headlong into Komaeda. The universe has a hilarious sense of humour.

“Ah.” He starts, cocking his hips to the side while staring down at you, “What rotten luck.”

You glare at him, “Rotten luck, indeed.” 

Komaeda laughs, “Is that so? I’m quite sure this is the highlight of your day.” You stiffen as he leans down by your ear, his long fingers coming to rest on your hip, “You do so enjoy it when I mock you, after all.” 

You feel his teeth on the side of your throat, not really biting, but pressing down just enough that you can feel them. You release a shaky moan, digging your nails into your palms.

“Just like a reserve course student to revel in my touch; in whatever form it comes.” His hand grips tighter, you can feel his nails pressing hard against your skin, “I could bite down so hard that you bleed, and you’d still moan, wouldn’t you?” 

You would. Oh god you would. Your legs are shaking, you can feel his warm breath in your ear and you’re becoming painfully aware that this is happening in the hallway. You swallow as your eyes dart open to the supply closet behind Komaeda. He grins saccharinely as he follows your eyes, grabbing you by the hand and tugging you down the hall. Before you have a chance to ask what is going on-

The door to the supply closet clicks shut, and you are suddenly very aware of your situation. It takes you eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light, but when they do, you can see the utter hunger in Komaeda’s eyes. You swallow.

“How...how long have you known?”

“Known what?” He asks, feigning innocence.

You huff, “don’t make me say it!” 

Komeda crosses his arms, “no, I seem to have forgotten. I’ll need you to remind me.” 

You avert your eyes, scowling down at the ground, “how long have you known, that your degradation turns me on?”

He grins, “Almost a month.”

Your head snaps back up in horror, “So you’ve been toying with me on purpose this whole time?” You scoff, “What am I saying, of course you have been.”

“You’re lucky that I pay attention to you at all.” He breathes, and your heart starts racing at the jangle of a belt buckle.

This can’t be happening.

“You should be worshipping me.” Komaeda purrs over the sound of a leather belt being tugged through its loops. Your legs are quivering.The snick of a button coming undone, the sound of a zipper, and the thump of your knees hitting the floor all happen within seconds of each other. 

Komaeda chokes on a laugh. “I thought I would have to ask you to kneel.” He pulls his cock out of his boxers, already half hard as a smirk crawls up the side of his face, “But it seems you already know your place.” 

His cock is very pretty. Pale and slim with a blush red tip that you can't help wanting to suck on. 

“Don’t worry.” Komaeda whispers, “I have very low expectations for someone as talentless as yourself. I’ll be impressed if you even manage to make me come.”

Arousal shudders through you at his words, leaning forward and giving the head of his cock a cursorly lick. His breath catches in his throat. Such a pretty sound, you want to hear it more. One of his hands curls into your hair as you open your mouth wide and take the whole head in, sucking gently before bobbing your mouth halfway down. 

“ Ah! ” Komaeda hisses, hips stuttering deeper into your throat, “What an honour for you... aha ...to have an ultimate’s cock in your mouth, what a privilege .” his words break off into a laugh, wheezy and breathless as you take him all the way down, tears prickling in your eyes as it becomes harder to breathe. His head thumps back against the wall of the closet, cock pumping harder and faster into your open mouth as his nails dig into your scalp. You can feel drool running down your chin and dripping down to the floor, keening and moaning around his cock as you lathe the underside of the head with your tongue. 

“Who...Who knew...that this would be your one use…” Komaeda stammers, hips twitching and rolling into your mouth over and over, “is this your talent? Aha! Is sucking cock your talent?”

You make a noise of affirmation, unable to form words as he keeps relentlessly fucking into you. One of your hands slips up under your skirt and into your panties. It isn't surprising how wet you are, moaning unabashedly as you circle your swollen clit with a finger. 

“Ah... Ah! Look at you!” Komaeda exclaims, voice high and breathy as he tries to hold back another moan, “Being used like this turns you on, doesn't it? I wonder if one of those reserve course boys could do this to you.” he laughs breathlessly, “I wonder if you would let one of those reserve course boys fuck your mouth in the supply closet.” he grins down at you, eyes wild and almost unhinged, “I dont think you would, would you? I think you only want me, isn't that right?”

“Yes…” you manage to slur around him, circling your clit faster and faster, “nghh...only...you”

Your assertion only spurs him on further, hiking on leg up over your shoulder and pressing the heel of shoe hard into the wall behind you, hips stuttering forward with no discernible rhythm. You moan deep in the back of your throat and curl your arm around his thigh, feeling the muscles flex below your fingers as fucks into your mouth with unbridled desparetion. For all his talk, he seems to find your blow job abilities pretty competent.

“Don’t... ahh! ...Don’t stop-“ he groans, teeth gritted together, sweat dripping down his brow, “I...I’m gonna…” 

You’re close too. Your fingers pressing hard on your clit, circling almost brutally as you take his cock further down your throat. You can’t help but peer up at him, lording over just how thoroughly ruined he looks. Usually so neat, so clean. He looks like a perfect mess and it makes you keen around him, hips grinding harder into your own hand as you get closer and closer.

“You’re mine...all mine” Komaeda rasps, twitching and moaning, “Your mouth is mine to fuck...no-no one else can— AHHH!” 

His head collides with the wooden wall so loudly that you’re almost worried it hurts, and then he comes hard down your throat. You aren’t far behind, knees shaking and shuddering under your weight as you come tumbling over the edge, absolutely soiling your panties. There’s a filthy mixture of cum and saliva dripping out from your mouth that you swallow as best you can with Komaeda’s softening cock still in your mouth. The foot he had up against the wall slowly drops, resting gently on your shoulder instead as he catches his breath. You can see his chest rising and falling, his eyes gently closed. He’s cute when he’s not being such an asshole. 

Finally, he pulls his hips back and his cock slips out of your mouth, there isn’t too much of a mess on that front, at least nothing you can’t wipe away with the back of your hand, but your panties are another story. You’re just going to pray that they dry off a little before you have to go back to class.

Komaeda slides his leg from your shoulder and leisurely starts tucking himself back into his pants. You aren’t really sure what you’re supposed to be doing, so you just sit on the floor and wait for him to finish.

He hums, reaching down and tilting your chin up with a finger, “maybe you aren’t entirely pathetic.” he surprises you when he leans down and slots his lips against yours, flicking his tongue into your mouth, “if I’m able to make time in my busy schedule, I could shove my cock somewhere else next time.” 

You moan audibly, nodding your head with probably a little too much gusto.

Komaeda grins, all teeth and gums, and says, “I look forward to it.”

So do you.

[odos-bucket]

Protective Batbros, a subsidiary of my Protective Batdad series

Tim is sitting alone.

It was something Dick had made note of shortly after arriving at the gala. There are people scattered around at various tables, but even more people milling about and socializing. Before he can do more than smile and nod to the newest Robin, a small group of WE investors draw his attention into a dull conversation.

Dick talks with them for a little while, then makes his rounds throughout the big hall, mingling with various acquaintances, and sampling some hors d’oeuvres. By the time he’s back to where he began, he notices that Tim is still sitting by himself. Or, he amends, maybe someone else has been by and gone again?

Tim ’s posture is perfectly straight, and he isn’t looking around. His expression is neutral, but not blank like he’s spacing out. There are appetizers on his plate that he clearly hasn’t touched. One of his hands is folded in his lap, the thumb of the other hand is rubbing methodically at the polished handle of a decorative spoon. Dick makes his way over to take the seat beside him.

“Heya, kiddo.”

“Dick!” Tim’s face lights up when he sees him, if only for a moment, which makes Dick’s heart light up as well, as he pulls the kid into a one armed hug.

He makes a brief mental note of how tightly Tim clings to him in return, then files the observation away to analyze later.

He doesn’t like how little they’ve seen Tim around the manor recently. His parents have been in town for the past week and a half, which throws a bit of a wrench into their nighttime escapades.

But it’s a good thing, he reminds himself. Tim doesn’t get to spend nearly enough time with his parents; it’s good that they’re around. Dick feels a little guilty for thinking of them as an inconvenience, even though he’s pretty sure Bruce does too.

Dick leans back into his own seat, but keeps an arm resting on the back of Tim’s.

“How’s it going?” He asks.

“Okay,” Tim says with a shrug, expression and posture already returned to their neutral state.

“Been kinda boring without you around this past week.”

“Yeah, sorry. My dad likes to know where I am.” He begins to rub his hands together, then seems to realize what he’s doing, and forces himself to return to the subtler motion of worrying at the silverware.

Dick nods, watching his hand.

“Must be nice having them around for a while.” He is being supportive. He needs to be supportive.

“I- yeah. It’s great…”

Dick looks at him with an open expression, waiting for some clarification.

“They’re not like around around,” Tim says. “They still work. But it’s nice when we get to have dinner together. And Mom says that maybe we can try to have a family game night before they have to leave again, if there’s time…”

Dick resists the urge to ask when that will be. Tim sees right through him.

“They’ll be leaving for Norway before the end of the month.”

Dick isn’t sure what the appropriate reaction to that is, and his expression sort of ends up stumbling into a grimace. He glances down to keep it concealed, and Tim is kind enough not to draw attention to it.

“I’m sorry they’re not staying longer. But it’ll be good to have you around again.”

Tim nods absently. An uncomfortable expression flits across his face, but vanishes quickly.

“Tim, are you feeling okay?”

At first he just gets a noncommittal noise in response to the question, then after a minute Tim wrinkles his nose, and glances around the room.

“It’s loud.”

Dick nods. He hadn’t really been attuned to the noise level himself. It wasn’t especially loud by Gotham aristocracy standards, but he could see how it might be annoying to someone who was bothered by that type of thing, or just wasn’t particularly used to it. Of course, Time would be used to it though, so that didn’t really factor in here.

“I might have some headphones in the car,” he offers. “They’re not noise cancelling, but they might help. Do you want me to go gram ‘em?”

Tim’s expression shifts, and he eyes Dick, like he’s trying to decipher something about him.

“This isn’t exactly an appropriate setting for headphone,” he says after a minute. “I don’t want to be disrespectful.”

“I don’t think anyone here who’s sober enough to notice whether or not you’re wearing headphones is going to feel slighted if you are.”

Tim shrugs stiffly. Dick glances to where his hand is still fidgeting with the flatware, and feels a spark of concern that he might just rub a hole into the pad of his thumb.

“Why don’t we step out for a sec?” He suggests.

“Because it would be rude?” Tim offers uncertainly, not picking up on the rhetorical nature of the question.

“Just for a minute,” Dick insists. He doesn’t like how uneasy Tim is here.

Tim glances around them cautiously, twitching slightly as the band hits a particularly high note, then turns his attention back to Dick and nods.

They head out through the front doors. And while a few people glance at them as they leave, no one hinders their exit.

Outside, Tim seems to finally notice the blister he’s been wearing into his thumb all evening.

“Does that hurt?” Dick asks.

He doesn’t get a response at first, as Tim is frowning down at the finger with apparently intense concentration.

“It’s ugly,” he says after a minute. “I used to pull at the skin around my nails. It never hurt badly, just looked weird.”

“I think Bruce keeps bandaids in the car. I’ll go grab you one.”

“That’s-“ Tim begins.

But Dick is already halfway down the wide outdoor staircase. He doesn’t want to leave Tim along for long if he’s been by himself all night, but figures he probably won’t miss much in the forty five seconds it should take him to get to the car and back.

He finds bandaids, and a set of earplugs in the glove compartment. As he dashes back to the main entrance, he acknowledging that the round trip may have taken closer to sixty five seconds, but figures that’s still pretty good.

When he gets to the top of the stairs Tim’s talking with a woman. Or rather, he’s holding very still and being talked at, by a very unhappy woman, who it takes Dick a moment to recognize as Janet Drake.

“-Don’t know what could possibly have made you think it was appropriate to come out here in the middle of a party. We came back to the table and you were gone! People were asking about you too, and what were we supposed to tell them?”

“Hi,” Dick interrupts, as loudly as he thinks he can get away with, and in a deliberately upbeat voice. “I’m so sorry! I had to get something from my car, and asked Tim to come keep me company. I thought we’d be back in before anyone had a chance to miss us.” He dips his head apologetically, and looks back up with a bashful grin.

Mrs. Drake seems completely caught off guard, looking rapidly between Dick and her son, whose gaze has been mostly focused on a spot behind her right ear. After a minute she manages to force some composure into her expression.

“It’s not that we mind you borrowing him, Mr. Grayson-Wayne. It’s just coming back to the table to find that he’s not there, you understand-“

Dick waves off the rushed explanation of her concern.

“I’m sorry to have worried you.”

She studies him for a minute. Dick isn’t sure what she’s looking for, or what she thinks she’s seeing. But he matches her scrutiny, and forces down the thought that he does not like this woman.

She looks away from him quickly enough, clearing her throat.

“Come, Timothy.”

Dick slips the bandaid and earplugs into Tim’s suit pocket as he follows them back inside, and squeezes his shoulder once there’s no longer a plausible reason for them to be going in the same direction.

He then proceeds to spend the rest of the evening maneuvering himself to keep the Drakes in the periphery of his line of sight, keeping an eye on his little brother. Because Tim can handle himself in this environment, but Dick knows he doesn’t like it, knows that all the sound and bright light gives him a headache. And they’re all a little nervous in crowds. And he knows intellectually that the chances of anything really bad happening tonight aren’t actually all that high. Even so, he needs to look out for Tim, because what if no one else is?

It’s almost too hard to think about. Dick has given himself permission to be a little overprotective, feeling like he has a pretty damn good reason to be. But the thing is, Tim’s not really supposed to need it. Not all the time. Not here. He has a family. Dick has always felt a little guilty for resenting them, but watching the Drake’s go the rest of the night without saying more than a stray word or two to their son makes him wonder if maybe he has the right.

He doesn’t know their situation, not really. But he knows what he sees and he doesn’t like it.

“Can we make sure Tim’s family’s at the same table as us the next time we have to go to one of these?” He asks Bruce later that night, asks as if they themselves aren’t already Tim’s family, even if it feels wrong to imply.

Bruce hums a distracted agreement, and Dick thinks he must see it too.

-

Not that it matters especially, but I kind of picture this happening in the same continuity as this story, but maybe a couple months beforehand (or maybe just a couple of weeks if you want the Drakes to be on the same visit).

Hope you enjoy!

[snackhobi]

pairing: jimin x reader / word count: 8.8k / genre: smut, established relationship, driftracer!au

summary: Jimin’s been pretty busy recently and you’re starting to feel neglected. Guess you’ll just have to make him pay attention somehow.

warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), unsafe driving (back at it with the street racing), cursing, mild degradation, fingering, spanking, unprotected sex (it goes without saying but please use protection guys), creampie, controlled orgasm (delay), multiple orgasms (f receiving), dirty talk, pet names

THIS IS A FOLLOW UP TO ‘CATCH YOUR DRIFT’— please read the original first

a/n: to everyone who was asking about a cyd follow-up—here it is! it’s basically a pwp with the flimsiest of plots lmao. enjoy!! x

--

“Jimin's up to something.”

“Huh?” Jungkook looks away from where he’s been fiddling with something in the Pontiac’s engine. “What?”

“Jimin,” you repeat, slowly. “He’s up to something.”

Park Jimin. Breathtaking, captivating, gorgeous Park Jimin—unstoppable in his sleek black Nissan Skyline GTR, a master in his element, relentless, incredible. Your rival and main competitor on the track. The one person who challenges you, who you measure yourself against, who you always strive to beat.

Park Jimin. Your boyfriend.

“He’s been… weird lately,” you say, uncharacteristically hesitant. 

Jungkook looks a little baffled but also concerned, eyes darting over in the same direction as yours. Jimin’s already kissed you good luck, a soft, lingering touch of his lips against yours before returning to his own car, and you’ve been watching him get ready for tonight’s race. He lounges against his black Skyline and laughs at something that Yoongi and Taehyung are talking about, looking every inch the king that he is.

Jimin is as striking and dazzling as always, jacket covered in jewels that burst outwards like fireworks, the cut of his metallic shirt low enough to reveal his collarbones and smooth skin of his chest. The only understated part of his outfit is the pair of unadorned silver hoops in his ears, simple and elegant. A gift from you that he wears every time you race.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise a little. “What do you mean he’s up to something?” 

Honestly, being with Jimin is a dream. At first you’d been concerned that your competitive natures would clash and that being opponents on the drifting circuit would cause friction in your relationship—but it actually works out really well. Jimin makes you strive to be a better person, the best you can be, both on and off the track. You’re both as invested in giving each as much attention as you do to winning races, and the truth is that a lot of the fierceness you show on the track melts away entirely when you’re alone together: it just highlights how multifaceted and incredible Jimin is.

He’s a ruthless competitor. He’s also sweet and caring and kind and he always makes time for you. 

Or at least, he normally does.

“He keeps saying he’s busy, and he seems to be distracted when we’re together,” you admit to Jungkook in a low hush. There’s no one within hearing distance of your Pontiac but you’re still cautious. Your relationship with Jimin is well known throughout the circuit now and you don’t want people overhearing intimate details about it. It’s none of their business. “I don’t know, Kookie, it’s… it’s concerning. I guess.”

You’re usually self-assured and confident but right now you sound unsure. Jungkook’s known you for years and years and is one of your closest friends, but even so, admitting this to him is difficult—and he knows it. 

Jungkook pulls the hood of your car down, shutting it with firm hands before he leans across the metal towards you. “Have you tried asking him about it?” 

“Of course.”

“What did he say?”

“We, uh, got distracted,” you say, and Jungkook makes a face at the implication.

“Maybe next time you’re trying to have a serious conversation you shouldn’t let yourself get ‘distracted’?” He raises his eyebrows as he lifts his hands to make air quotations at you and you pout.

“But his ass is just so perfect, can you blame me?”

“Okay, that’s it, I’m out,” Jungkook says while looking pained, and you can’t help but laugh.

Later, though, when you beat Jimin in the race, he lavishes attention on you like he always does—you’d barely inched out ahead of him tonight and so he takes his time when he works you up, touch light and teasing as he runs his hands over you. Your head tilts forward as you pant, bent over the hood of his car as he fingers you open, deep and slow. Just the way you like it, even if you’re hungry for more.

“Jimin, please.” Your voice is desperate as you beg and try to rock against his fingers, get him to move faster. “I need you inside me, god—”

Your words choke off when you feel a sharp smack against the bared skin of your ass, a small punishment for your impatience. You let out a gasp that turns into a quiet moan, turning to hide your face in your elbow to try and stifle the noise as Jimin’s hands immediately soothe over the touch, soft as he rubs over your heated skin.

“Patience, baby.” His voice is low. “You’ll get my cock when you’re nice and ready. Okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur, a little breathless. “I just want you so bad.”

You’re still turned away from him but you can hear the affection in Jimin’s answer as he leans forward to kiss the sensitive skin just behind your ear. “I know, sweet thing.”

Once he finally sinks his cock into you, it doesn’t take long for him to pull you over the edge, your nails scraping against the warm metal of his car as your body goes tense and you cum. Jimin follows soon after, spilling himself inside you as you shiver and clench around him, trying to draw him in as deep as possible; no matter how many times he fucks you open it never gets old, the way you can feel his body move against yours, the way he gasps and moans as he reaches his own edge, the way he holds you close as you both go lax against each other, warm and tender.

“Are you free on Saturday?” You’re perched on the hood of his Nissan afterwards, arms curled around his neck as you pull away to look up at him. “I thought you might want to come over for dinner and a film? You can choose which one we watch, I’m not picky.”

A quick expression flits across Jimin’s face, faster than you can identify, before it turns apologetic. “Sorry, baby. I’m busy this Saturday. How about next week?”

“Oh,” you say. “Okay. Um. Do you want to… grab a quick lunch instead? Or something? When you’re free?”

Jimin turns his face into your hair, nuzzling into your scalp before he kisses the crown of your head. “I think I’ll be busy all weekend, but I’ll let you know, okay?”

You pause and try to hide the surprising amount of pain and confusion that shoots through you at his subtle dismissal, schooling your features before Jimin pulls away to look at you. “Okay baby,” you say brightly. “I hope you have a good weekend, either way.”

Jimin cups your face gently as he smiles at you, all warmth and open affection before he dips down to softly kiss you on the lips. “I will.”

--

If you didn’t trust Jimin so much you’d think he was cheating on you.

You know that Jimin has his own life outside of you and you’re okay with that. You honestly are. It’s not that you want to monopolise his time, but he’s usually so willing to give it to you without you even asking—so now that it seems like he’s pulling away, it’s all the more pronounced when it happens, and you can’t help but wonder why. You’re trying not to be pushy and you haven’t outright demanded Jimin tell you what he’s so busy with; it must be important if he’s prioritising it over you and keeping it a secret, right?

Right?

You’re not needy or overbearing or clingy, but you are a tad possessive, and you can’t help but feel jealous of whatever it is that’s catching Jimin’s attention so much.

“Uh.” Taehyung’s eyes are wide. “Y/n, uh… your bra is? Kind of? Showing a little bit?”

“I know Tae, but thank you.” You take one last glance at yourself in your wing mirror before straightening up, content with how you look tonight. “I can assure you it’s entirely intentional.”

You usually opt for feminine outfits when you race, but they’re never normally this revealing; it’s borderline scandalous, really. Your bra is visible through the lace mesh of your shirt and your skirt is hiked so high it barely covers your ass, pleats fluttering each time you move. The thing that’s covering you the most is actually your pink leather jacket, but even that’s not enough to hide you from any eyes that are roving over you.

But the real kicker—the part of the outfit that would let anyone with discerning eyes know that you’re aiming for aesthetic over practicality—are your shoes. Your over-the-knee suede boots have a killer heel and they have got to be the worst things to drive with, the heels making it hard to shift your feet when you need to slam them onto the pedals, but you don’t care.

“I still think you should try talking to Jimin instead of doing… this,” Jungkook says, waving an arm at you.

“You just gestured to all of me.” You raise a perfectly shaped eyebrow. Not that you don’t always look good, of course, but tonight you’ve pulled out all the stops and it shows.

“That’s my point,” Jungkook groans. “If I nearly catch sight of your butt cheeks one more time I’m going to call the police. I’m feeling distinctly harassed.”

“You should be grateful.” You blow him a kiss and Jungkook makes a face.

“I’m going to call 911.”

“We’re not in America, Kookie,” Taehyung says. Jungkook just sighs.

Seokjin’s organised the meet at a car park in Gangnam tonight, and you watch as the lot starts to fill up, tweaked Supras and Skylines and Fairlady Zs whose engines rumble as their drivers descend into the underground level, filling the basement with noise. There are unfamiliar faces you don’t recognise, rich residents of Seoul’s most expensive neighbourhood rolling out to show off their money by way of their beautiful cars. 

You know a lot of these people won’t be racing tonight and they’re just here for the novelty of it all. Good for them. You have other things on your mind.

(If Jimin isn’t going to give you time when you want it, then you’re not going to let him take it when he wants it.  He hasn’t turned up yet but you know the second he sees you he won’t be able to keep his eyes off you—but tonight you’re not going to let him have you.)

You’re perched on the hood of your flame-red Pontiac as you wait for everyone to finish turning up, pretending to be absorbed in checking your nails as you cross your legs; you don’t have to look up to know that people are staring at you and your shameless behaviour. 

They can watch. You’re not doing this for them.

You glance up at the sound of a deep rumble, almost a purr, and your eyes widen at the sight of the next car that rolls into view. It must be the only time you’ve ever been caught off guard by an unfamiliar vehicle and you don’t even have to pretend to be overawed, breathless as you take in the gorgeous sight. 

She’s low and sleek and magnificent, stark black cut through with a thick ribbon of blood red that rises over the car's bonnet and roof, matching the crimson wheel trims and strip of colour that trails over the edge of its spoiler. The LED headlights glow white and red, crimson halo rings shimmering through the pristine and unmarked glass. She’s all smooth lines and curved edges, every contour a graceful stroke that builds up into a masterpiece, heavenly and bewitching all at once.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe, and for the first time since you started racing, you approach someone’s car before you even know who they are.

The driver is a man you don’t recognise. He’s stepped out of the car and is leaning against it casually, arms crossed and head tilted as he surveys the other motors lined up nearby, running a hand through his dyed brown hair to push it away from his forehead. He’s tall and handsome with his defined cupid’s bow and hooded eyes, and he’d almost look sleepy if he wasn’t watching you so intently, noticing your approach and keeping his eyes on you as you step forwards.

“Oh my god. A Dodge Viper?” You can’t begin to imagine the exportation costs for this thing and how much it must have cost to get the parts to modify it, let alone maintain it. (But Gangnam is an incredibly wealthy area, after all, so you’re not too surprised.)

“You like it?” The Viper’s owner tilts his head at you, a small smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “I can take you for a drive later if you’d like, beautiful.”

“Trust me, if I was sitting in this car, I’d be behind the wheel,” you say. “I bet she drives like a dream. How did you get your hands on an SRT-10 ACR? In Seoul?”

His smirk grows wider. “Brought it with me from Chicago.” He shrugs carelessly, as if it can’t have cost him a small fortune. Like the money means nothing to him. Pocket change. Holy shit. “You wanna take that seat behind the wheel to see if it suits your fancy?”

It does. You run your hands over the leather seats and tilted wheel, pretending to hide a laugh behind your hand as the driver, Johnny, leans into the car to adjust the seat for you; you spread your legs so he can reach between them to pull the bar before he can move the chair, helping you hitch it forwards so you can reach the pedals with your feet, your legs shorter than his. It’s nothing lewd but it’s undeniably flirtatious, even if you’re more focused on drinking down the car’s beautiful interior than pandering to his attention on you.

Johnny holds a hand out to help you step out of the low car and back onto your feet, taking a second to steady yourself on your heels. You’ve been so focused on the Viper that you haven’t been paying attention to the other vehicles that now fill the parking lot, but over Johnny’s shoulder you notice a car that’s as familiar as your own by now—Jimin’s black Skyline.

Your hand is still lingering in Johnny’s as you take the sight in. Jimin looks surprisingly flashy today, jewel embellished bomber jacket catching the eye, Gucci shirt tucked into leather trousers that are cinched tight against his waist by his belt, highlighting his thick thighs and perfect ass. Still pink-haired and always gorgeous. Your beautiful, charming, wonderful boyfriend.

When you make eye contact with him for the first time that night, a hot shiver shoots through you, goosebumps rising over your skin. Jimin’s lips are a firm line and his eyes are dark through the soft touch of faint eyeshadow, and he looks almost impassive, cold; even when you’d first met, back when you’d been nothing more than opponents, he’d never looked like this. 

He’s furious.

He doesn’t come over to wish you good luck today and you don’t approach him either.  Even if this hadn’t been your aim to begin with, who can blame you? You’ll work with this. Maybe it’s passive aggressive, maybe it’s petty, but if Jimin isn’t going to give you the time of day you can’t be blamed if you’re feeling starved for attention, right?

Johnny might be watching, and others might be staring, but at the end of the day you’re only ever aware of one man—and Jimin knows that. 

You’ve been driving your Pontiac for long enough that adding heels to the mix doesn’t throw you off as much as people might expect (besides, you’ve been practicing). Even so, it wouldn’t matter if they did, because you’re not wearing them to help achieve a victory—for the first time ever, you don’t care if you beat Jimin today. Not on the track, anyway. You wanted him wound up and frustrated, desperate to touch you, and it seems like he is.

It shows in his driving. He’s always a sight to behold when he races, swaying his body into the motion of his car as they dance together, every motion practiced and sure. But tonight his actions are sharp and angry. Jimin curls his Skyline into each turn, hard and fast; the Nissan almost seems to float as he pulls the steering wheel and sets the wheels at the perfect angle to achieve his drift, swinging effortlessly around the crescents of safety cones of today’s course. 

He beats you. 

And yet you’re the one who’s smiling. You step out of your car and take in his frosty expression; your heart pounds in your chest but you pretend to be unaffected, disappearing into the throng of fans who are hollering in excitement for the after party now that all the races have finished. 

“Oh, hey, Y/n!” Hoseok seems unperturbed when you loop your arm through his, staying cheerful as you latch onto him. He’s still one of the few drivers who you actually like and trust to not be lecherous towards you, no matter what you’re wearing. “Wow, you’re a lot taller than normal. Where’s Jimin?”

“Don’t know,” you say. It’s true—he’d disappeared after the race and you have no idea where he’s gone, but you know you’ll find him eventually. Or he’ll find you. You always find each other in the end. “Where are the drinks? Is there anything non-alcoholic?”

Hoseok manages to find some cans of coke, much to your delight. He tilts his own can against yours in a cheers motion as you continue to cling to him, sipping your drink, eyes scanning the crowd for where your boyfriend might have disappeared to. 

By the time your can is empty and drained of liquid, Jimin has yet to appear. You frown. It’s not like him to be gone for so long, even if he’s angry right now. You unravel your arm from Hoseok’s and pat his cute cheek as a thank you for letting you hold onto him for so long before you slip away from the after party; you’re uninterested in keeping up the facade of having fun if Jimin isn’t around. 

The elevator is deserted when you step into it, pressing the button to take you to the roof, where you’d left your Pontiac after finishing the race earlier. It’s starting to get chilly and your sheer top does nothing to protect you from the nip in the air. You draw your leather jacket closer around you once the elevator doors open, stepping out onto the rooftop and towards your Solstice. 

There are no lights up here but you don’t need any. Gangnam never sleeps, lights from billboards and skyscrapers washing over each of the buildings, and the sky is clear tonight too—the moon is shining down, silver and bright. You spot a familiar silhouette, bathed in white light where he sits atop your Pontiac’s hood, leaning back on his palms in the way he always does.

Jimin’s the only person who's allowed to touch your car like that.

You let your jacket fall back open as you approach. Jimin’s eyes flicker over to you, his face remaining hard as he watches. A cold shiver runs down your spine but you hold your ground—you’re not about to bow down immediately in the face of his quiet frustration.

Jimin’s eyes slide over you, taking every inch of you in; each part of your revealing outfit, your flawless makeup, your boots, their unnecessary heel. Even though you know he’s angry right now you can tell he likes what he sees and you can’t help but feel pleased about it. 

“Come here, sweet thing,” he says. He spreads his knees apart so you can stand between his legs, because of course you immediately comply with him; he lifts one hand off the car’s bonnet to grasp your chin in his hands, tilting your face down towards him. He doesn’t let go. His grasp is firm. “Any reason why you’re so dolled up today?”

“Nope.” You pop your lips loudly around the p. “No reason at all. Why, do I need a reason to want to look pretty?”

Jimin’s grip tightens and his eyes narrow. Wrong answer. A small puff of air escapes you, knees weak—you’ve never seen Jimin so affected by anything and you feel weirdly powerful at this realisation. There’s something thrilling to know that only you can get under his skin like this.

“Of course not.” Jimin’s voice is deceptively smooth and low, something burning in his gaze. “Just seems to me like my baby wanted everyone’s eyes on her tonight, for one reason or another.”

You stay silent. You don’t want everyone’s eyes on you: you just want his.

Jimin crooks one of his eyebrows at you as you remain quiet. He takes his hand off your chin and lets it fall, dragging it over the lace of your top, through the valley of your breasts and down your stomach before slipping under the hem, splaying his hand over your belly. You can’t help but shiver, body singing under his touch when he draws his nails lightly over your skin. The sight of his hand against you, visible through the netting of your shirt, sets the blood to rising in your veins.

“Oh? Shy all of a sudden, baby?” His eyebrow is still raised as he watches your movements, the way you react to him so easily, always attuned to his touch. “Where was all that shyness earlier, hm? You seemed so bold behind the wheel of that little Viper.”

“I was just having a look,” you say, acting a little pettish. You hadn’t been planning on letting Jimin touch you, but—but you’re so weak for him, and besides, you don’t want him thinking that you’re shying away from his hands because you’d been talking to Johnny earlier.

Jimin rises, pulling his hand from under your shirt as he does. “And everyone was looking at you,” he says. You know he can be possessive and it’s fine, because you are too, and you have no eyes for anyone else but him; normally he likes it when people look at you, because they don’t have a chance and he knows it. “Do you like it when people watch you, sweet thing?”

He punctuates this question with a movement of his hands, one coming to rest at your collarbones, the other sliding between your legs with no warning, running his fingers over the material of your underwear. You jolt in surprise, sucking in a breath.

“You want me to take you right here, hm?” His fingers are rubbing small, tantalisingly light circles over your clit, your panties a maddening barrier between your skin and his. “Bend you over and fuck you on this rooftop where anyone could see?”

Your cunt clenches, entire body going tight at the idea, and Jimin’s eyes darken when he notices. He flips your positions, and your hand fly out to brace yourself against the hood of your car as Jimin shoves the material of your skirt upwards, bunching it around your waist, revealing the scalloped edges of your skimpy lace underwear and the two tiny bows that adorn the centre line of them.

“You want me to call everyone up here? Let them see how well you take my cock?” Jimin continues to run his palms over the flesh of your ass as he speaks. He digs his fingers into your skin and a moan slips out of your lips, the pain shooting through you and dulling into pleasure. “I bet you want them to touch you too, don’t you?”

“No,” you insist. “No, Jimin, only want you—”

“You expect me to believe that you’re not a hungry little cockslut, dressed the way you are tonight, hm?”

You’re blindsided by the arousal that floods through you. You know that Jimin doesn’t think that, not really, but the way he lets the degradation fall from his lips has your toes curling.

“I only want your cock,” you say, trembling. Any rush of power you felt earlier is gone. Jimin is entirely in control now and you both know it. “Wanted you to look at me—dressed pretty for you—”

“Oh, sweet thing,” Jimin hums, sounding indulgent. “You were just feeling needy, was that it?”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, need you so much.”

God. You’re so weak and needy right now, and it’s crazy how much power Jimin has over you; you’ve never been so ready and willing to surrender yourself up before, your earlier planning and resolve slipping away almost as soon as Jimin had laid his hands on you. But what you have with Jimin is built on trust, and you trust him enough to be vulnerable in front of him, to let him see how hungry and desperate you are for his touch.

Then again, he’s always hungry for you, too.

He strokes his hands down your ass and thighs before he circles his hand around your throat to pull you up. He puts no pressure behind his fingertips but you feel helpless anyway, breathless as he pulls you flush against him, your back to his chest, head tilted upwards with how his hand is resting around your throat.

Jimin’s voice is pitched low and his breath is warm against your ear as he lets the words curl out of his mouth. “What does my baby need?”

Oh, he does so love to hear you beg. Your eyes flicker towards a sudden flash of light; there’s someone using the elevator, panel lighting up, letting you know they’re on the way to the rooftop.

“Jimin—”

He presses closer to you, trapping you against your car, helpless. “If you don’t tell me what you need you won’t get it,” he says, and you shudder.

“Need you to fuck me,” you gasp out. “Need you to make me cum—need you to fill me up—want you so bad—”

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

Jimin steps away just as the elevator dings, doors sliding open to reveal a gaggle of people, fans crowding around a few drivers. The smile on Jimin’s face is wicked as you turn around, and you almost hate how nonchalant he looks while you’re so affected. You have no doubt the flimsy material of your underwear and the high hem of your skirt is doing nothing to hide how slick you are, so you’re grateful that the rooftop is only lit in dim light.

One of the drivers peels off from the group and you realise that it’s Johnny. He approaches you despite how Jimin wraps an arm around your waist, hand sliding under your jacket—you let yourself relax, leaning against Jimin’s familiar body, settling against him in a way you don’t even have to think about any more.

“Nice driving,” Johnny says. He hadn’t actually raced himself, but his Dodge is a powerful and vicious beast, so you’re not surprised he didn’t want to risk damaging her in the tight corners of the car park. She thrives on the open road, not indoors. “Want to put those skills to the test in my Viper?”

“She’s busy.” Jimin pulls you even closer. He has his usual mask on now, distant and aloof. You’re the only one who sees his softness, or his lust. (That’s only for you.)

“Wasn’t talking to you, man.” Johnny doesn’t even spare Jimin a glance, ignoring him despite how Jimin had beaten you earlier—he just stares at you. You can’t help but feel insulted on your boyfriend’s behalf. He’s a fantastic driver and he deserves every bit of attention that Johnny is lavishing on you.

“Thank you, but it’s true, I’m busy,” you say. Jimin’s thumb is slowly brushing up and down your side; just a small, tiny motion, but you’re hyperaware of it. You lift your hand to rest on Jimin’s chest, over the raised, glittering Roman numerals of his shirt. “Enjoy your Viper. She’s beautiful.”

Johnny stands there for a second and then shrugs. “Aight,” he says. “I will. Have a nice night, I guess.”

He wanders off and gets absorbed back into the group of people he’d appeared with. Jimin turns his head and kisses your cheek, and then your ear, dipping his head to mouth at your neck, and you grip the hand that’s resting on your waist.

“Jiminie,” you say. “We need to go.”

He laughs against the skin of your throat. He sounds smug, the desperation obvious in your tone. “Always so needy, sweet thing,” he murmurs. “Haven’t heard the saying all good things come to those who wait?”

Jimin’s making you pay for your earlier boldness and you know it. There’s an ache between your legs, one that needs to be satisfied, but he seems happy to wait, unruffled. You’re so riled up right now and he seems unmoved, even if the iciness around him has melted now.

“I’ve been waiting all night.” You squirm a little, tightening your thighs, trying to offer yourself some relief; Jimin can always turn you on so fast and you can feel a physical throb of arousal in your cunt, lips swollen, begging to just be touched.

He lets out a little sigh, as if he’s being put upon right now. You’re torn between wanting to kiss him or shove him away from your car.

“Fine,” you say, making your tone a petulant one as you turn your nose up. “I guess I’ll just go home and grab my vibrator—”

Jimin tugs you against him, his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes.  His voice is quiet but undeniable. “No, you won’t. I’m not done with you, sweet thing. You’re always so impatient.” He loosens his hold so he can pull his head away and then he’s smiling at you; there’s something behind that smirk, something in his eyes. “Come on, baby.”

He gives you no chance to question him. You drive beside him in your Solstice, trying to ignore how your skirt is hitched up and you can feel yourself dripping on the leather seat; the rumble and vibrations of your car provide the barest of reliefs, nowhere near what you really want. 

You know Jimin’s apartment will be deserted tonight, Yoongi staying with Taehyung, leaving you and Jimin alone, but he still teases you even as you step inside. You try to crowd up against Jimin, get him to touch you— you know that he wants to and he usually gives in once you’re this wound up and aching, but tonight he seems content not to. At one point you try to guide his hand under your shirt again and he grabs your wrist, giving you a look that makes your knees go weak, even if you scowl at him. He hasn’t even kissed you properly yet.

“Be patient,” he says. 

There’s a note of warning in his voice. Normally you’d be more willing and pliant, ready to listen, but this entire escapade started because you’re feeling neglected and ignored—this is just the icing on the cake.

“I have been! Come on,” you whine. “Don’t you want your reward for winning tonight?”

Jimin’s mouth is a hard line. “I’m going to claim my prize,” he says. “But it seems like you’re making this about you, aren’t you? Always so greedy, sweet thing. I guess I’ve been too lax with you, haven’t I?”

You pause. He has that look in his eye, one that you’ve started to recognise the more you see it, and you can feel your pussy throbbing when you realise that he’s starting to take complete control of the situation. You’re equals on the track, and equals in this relationship, but recently in the bedroom you’ve been giving up your position at the helm sometimes, letting Jimin control the pace.

Because you trust him.

“Maybe,” you answer, and Jimin smiles. “But you can’t blame me for that.”

“No, that’s true,” Jimin says. “That’s why I’ll only punish you for your earlier shameless behaviour, not your impatience. I’ll give you five.”

He doesn’t need to elaborate on what he means. Five spanks. Barely anything, really. You scoff. “Five? Why even bother at that point?”

Jimin’s eyes darken. “Another five for answering back. That’s ten altogether. You want to keep going, baby?”

Do you? You’re not sure. Jimin’s helped you discover that you enjoy spanking, sure, but do you really want to waste time on more spanks when you could be getting something better?

You’ve clearly been quiet for long enough that Jimin finds it concerning. “What’s your colour, sweet thing?”

A warm flush of affection spreads through your chest, the reminder that no matter what happens, you have your safewords: that even though you feel like Jimin is controlling the direction of the night, you have the power to stop it if you need to. You decide that ten is enough. “Green,” you say. “I’m green, Jimin.” 

You watch as he smiles at you, pleased, before he pulls the rings off his right hand, dropping them to the coffee table and ignoring the clatter of metal against glass. Once his hand is free and unadorned he takes a seat in the middle of the sofa, patting his thighs. “Boots off, and then I want you over here, baby.”

You shrug your jacket off and let it fall to the floor before you pull the tie-string at the top of your boots, letting them sag open before you kick them aside. You try to ignore how slick your folds feel and how wet you are as you make your way over to him, draping yourself across his lap; his thighs feel so thick and firm under your stomach, shifting forwards so that your ass is tilted up towards him, settling over his knees. You glance over your shoulder to look at Jimin but he just tuts.

“Eyes forward.”

You bite your lip but obey, facing forwards again as you stretch your arms in front of you, staring at your hands. You can’t see what Jimin is doing but you focus on the sensation of each of his motions. How he pulls your skirt up like he had earlier, how the air of the room is cool on your skin. 

You choke in a gasp when he takes the material of your underwear and tugs it up, revealing the bare skin of your ass when he pulls them tight; the pressure against your clit feels so good but it’s still not enough, even when you try to roll your hips forwards into the sensation. He clicks his tongue and then pulls them down instead, letting them settle at your knees, nothing better than a flimsy restraint.

“I want you to count them for me,” Jimin murmurs. He’s rubbing his hands over your skin, your lower back and ass and thighs, getting you ready; he swats your skin lightly a few times to get you prepared, each quick slap a glancing touch that quickly fades. “One to ten. Okay?”

“Okay.” Your voice is shakier than you thought it would be, so wound up and desperate for any sort of relief. Even though the light hits that he’s raining down on your skin fade almost instantly you can feel the coil tightening inside you, the anticipation building up, ready to burst.

The first real smack has you jolting in his lap. The pain quickly fades into pleasure and you clench your hands as the sensation rolls through you. “One,” you count as Jimin rubs his palm over your skin, soothing it.

The next smack is on your other buttock, Jimin’s flat palm leaving a stinging sensation against your skin that tingles outwards and into your core. “T-two.”

You continue to count out each smack. Jimin varies the intensity and speed of them, alternating between caressing your skin or squeezing the flesh of your ass between each one; you can never anticipate how he’s going to move, each slap against your skin a sharp pain that instantly melts into pleasure, sensation dulling and spreading into a tingling sting that settles into you.

By the time you’re ready for the last hit you’re almost sobbing with pleasure, trying your best not to squirm in his lap, trying not to think about how much you’re dripping. Jimin dips his fingers lower, glancing over your sodden folds, and you gasp out loud at the teasing, desperate for more.

“One more.” Jimin’s voice is low. “You’re doing so, so well, baby. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you confirm, and then his hand is coming down against the swell of your ass for the final time. “Ten,” you gasp.

Jimin’s hands are all over you, stroking you, praising you with his words and touch. He turns your head towards him so he can crane forwards and kiss you. It’s an awkward position but you can’t help but lean into the kiss, the first time his lips have touched yours tonight, ample reward after the punishment you’d just taken.

“Did so well,” he praises. “How are you doing, baby?”

His hands are rubbing over your sore flesh. Your skin stings but the ache isn’t bad, although you can’t help but think that you’re not going to want to put any pressure on your ass any time soon. “I’m good,” you say. “So good. Thank you, Jiminie.”

He lets out a tinkling little laugh. “Thanking me for a punishment, sweet thing?”

You feel loose and relaxed, limp in Jimin’s lap, all the endorphins from the spanking running through your veins. “I deserved it,” you sigh.

Your head is turned to one side so you can glance at Jimin, though the angle still prevents you from seeing anything in any sort of detail—so you’re caught completely off guard when he pushes a finger into you, your lower lips parting so easily for him, and you let out a reedy cry when he presses another one in when he realises you can take it.

“You’re fucking dripping,” Jimin breathes, and you writhe as he presses in deeper, his pretty little fingers sinking so easily into your greedy cunt. You can’t spread your legs properly with how your underwear is hooked around your knees and you feel so tight around his fingers, especially when he presses a third one in, the slight burn fading so quickly into pleasure. “Oh, just look at you.”

The slick sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of you is lewd. You’re so, so wet, only growing wetter as he continues to move his hand; he doesn’t touch your clit and when you try to rock against his thighs he uses his other hand to hold you still, splaying his fingers over the heated flesh of your ass. 

He knows how hard you find it to cum without any stimulation to your clit and doesn’t touch you where you’re desperate to be touched, focusing on turning you into a quivering, needy mess in his lap. Your skin feels overheated and your nipples are hard in the cups of your bra, almost painful, and you’re so, so hungry for your release.

“Jimin, please,” you sob. “Please, please—”

He pulls all of his fingers out of you all at once. Tears of frustration spring to your eyes and you kick your feet as you clench and unclench your hands, but then Jimin is guiding you off his lap, putting his hands around your waist to move you. His hands are quick and fast as they tug your skirt down your legs, though he’s still careful to ease the waistband over the curve of your hips and ass, avoiding the stinging skin. You feel the lace of your top rip as you both hastily pull it off, but you really don’t give a shit, fumbling for the clasp of your bra as soon as you can; you’re naked and needy in front of a fully-clothed Jimin, who’s looking at you with hooded eyes as he stands.

Normally you take the time to touch him, feel his soft skin under your hands and lips, tease him and work him up with his cock in your mouth, but tonight it seems like he’s too impatient to wait. When you reach out for him he takes hold of your wrists, his grasp gentle but firm, and he guides you into the position he wants— knees on the sofa, hands braced against the backrest, looking over your shoulder so you can drink him in as he gets undressed.

First, that beautiful embellished bomber of his, carelessly cast to one side. Next, the shirt, tugged out of the tight loop of his belt and pulled over his head, revealing his beautiful chest and stomach, the tattoos you’ve grown familiar with still beautiful as ever on his skin. The belt, unbuckled, leather trousers shoved down and kicked aside, and then he pulls his socks off and he’s finally, finally done. He looks so beautiful like this, naked save for the jewellery on his body— the chain around his neck, the bracelets at his wrists, the rings on his left hand, and of course, the simple, silver hoops in his ears.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” you breathe. 

Jimin’s expression is clouded with lust but you can see how his eyes go soft at your reverent tone, and he bends forwards to catch your mouth against his again; it’s deep and slow but messy, sloppy with the desperation you have for each other. “You’re gorgeous too,” he murmurs against your lips, and you smile, leaning into him. “My pretty baby.”

One of his hands settles at the curve of your waist, and the other grips his cock, ready to press into you. You’re almost shivering, so, so ready for him, entire body on edge; you choke in a gasp when you feel his cockhead brush against your folds, the slide so wet and easy. You feel how you part for him once he breaches you, your inner walls opening for his familiar hardness, pulling him in deeper and deeper until he bottoms out.

The skin of your ass stings where he’s pressed against it, but it’s just another sensation on top of the pleasure singing through you, settling in your lower belly and between your legs. Jimin wastes no time and starts to snap his hips forwards, one hand at your waist and the other at your shoulder to give him leverage to drive into you, curving your spine as you struggle to hold yourself up— the slap of his skin against yours and the wet sounds of his cock breaching your cunt is almost deafening, but then he leans forward to hook his arm around you, taking his fingers and rubbing tight, quick circles on your clit, fingers still wet from where they’d been sunk into you before.

The noise you make when you finally cum drowns out the other sounds that have been filling the room. You cum so hard your legs shake and you slump forwards, thighs trembling as you fold your weight into your arms, ripples of pleasure skating through you from your dripping cunt, still stuffed full of Jimin’s hot cock.

Jimin slows his thrusts, though he’s still pumping in and out of you, aftershocks trembling through your body from your orgasm. He puts a hand in your hair and tugs, pulling you against him, the skin of your back pressed against his chest. “Is my baby still feeling needy, hm?”

You nod your head, still grinding back against him, chasing the pleasure of his cock shifting inside you and the ache of your stinging skin dragging against his hipbones. “Yes,” you say, breathless. “Yes, need more.”

Jimin laughs, a triumphant little sound. You’re too far gone to even feel embarrassed at how shameless you’re being right now. “I knew it,” he says. “Greedy little cockslut, aren’t you?”

You clench around him, swallowing down a moan. “Only for you, Jiminie.”

“No one else is ever going to be good enough, are they?” He circles his hips and you shudder against him at the feeling, how his cock drags against your inner walls. “No one else knows how to please my baby like I do, do they?”

“No,” you agree. “No, no one else, only you— oh—”

Jimin stays inside you as he turns you around, hands firm around your waist as he sits down and pulls you with him, seating you in his lap. You lean back against him, rolling your hips and arching your spine when he cups your breasts in his hands, kissing down the length of your neck before sucking marks into your skin. Once it seems like he’s satisfied with how clearly he’s marked you as being taken, as being his, he starts to bounce you in his lap, thick thighs cushioning your fall each time you drive your hips back down.

“Can you cum again for me, baby?” His fingers are digging so firmly into your hips now that you wonder if it’ll bruise, but you can’t help but want it, want more reminders that you’re his. Reminders of his touch. “Can you give me one more?”

“Y-yes,” you hiccup, breath driven out of you with one particularly hard rock of Jimin’s hips. “Wanna come with you, Jimin.”

You can tell when Jimin’s close to his release. You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know—you can picture the sweat in his hair, the set of his brows and the curve of his mouth as he moans. You know the cadence of his gasps, how the motions of his hips start to speed and go off rhythm; you know exactly when to let your hand fall between your legs, rubbing at your clit so that you can cum with Jimin, your entire body wound up and ready to tumble off the edge with him. He puts his hand over yours, pressing the pads of your fingers down harder on your swollen bundle of nerves as your fingers grow slick with your wetness, and you’re gone.

You hit your peak with a breathless, wanton cry, throwing your head back against Jimin’s shoulder as your toes curl and you cum again. You’re swept up in the sensation of pleasure washing through your body when you feel how Jimin shudders underneath and inside you, how your cunt is still clenching as his cock twitches, as he empties himself into you. You’ve never cum the same time as someone before. It’s almost like you’re pulling the cum out of him, drawing it deeper inside you with each wave of sensation that ripples through your core, and you slump back against him, your chests heaving as you both ride out your highs; the tremors slowly subside as Jimin strokes his hands over your skin, and you twist your head so you can kiss each other slowly, lazily pressing your lips together as you catch your breaths, pleasure from your orgasms settling into every inch of your bodies.

“My pretty baby,” Jimin says, quiet and sweet against your mouth. You smile and rub your nose against his, pressing a swift kiss to the swell of his cupid’s bow.

“All yours,” you say, leaning into the tight embrace that Jimin wraps you in.

You feel blissful and fucked out, lying on your side on the sofa to save putting pressure on your still sore ass, watching Jimin as he moves around the room. He gathers up your clothes and you see how he pauses when he reaches your boots. It’s like you both remember all at once what lead you to this moment, and you see how Jimin turns his head to you with a question on his lips—he knows you well enough to know that everything you do is thought out and measured and that there would have been a reason that you were dressed so provocatively. You wouldn’t have done it on a whim, just because you felt like it.

“Y/n,” he says, and you look away from him, suddenly embarrassed. Every touch tonight has cemented the fact that Jimin cares about you and gives you time and attention, so now you just feel like some sort of dumb petulant child who was being greedy—you didn’t think you were monopolising Jimin’s time, but you obviously are. “Why—”

“You kept saying you were busy,” you interrupt, though you keep your eyes off him, staring up at the ceiling instead. “I was just—I was just feeling neglected and I wanted you to look at me. I wasn’t trying to get anyone else’s attention, I just wanted you to want to spend time with me, because you’ve been so busy recently and you won’t tell me why,” you finish, your voice quiet. You feel silly even as the final words come out.

“Oh, sweet thing.” Jimin’s voice is warm and gentle. You glance away from the ceiling to see him carefully setting all the clothes and mess to one side, heedless of the tangle of expensive clothing, and he crouches by the sofa to cup your face in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh, nuzzling into his lovely hands, into the now-familiar sensation of his fingers against your cheeks. “I was just being greedy.”

“No, you weren’t, you’re right.” His hair is mussed and his eyeshadow is smudged, as is yours, the two of you vulnerable with each other in ways you never are with anyone else. His eyes are soft and his face is open as he dips down to kiss your forehead, brushing the loose hair away from your face. “I have been very busy and I’ve been unfair by not telling you why.”

“You don’t have to,” you insist, but he shakes his head.

“I’ll be right back, baby,” he says. “Hold on.”

You watch him leave the room and pad down the hallway, past Yoongi’s bedroom and into his own, and you sit up when you see him reappear with a small collection of papers, print-outs that you try to catch a glimpse of before he spreads them on the coffee table for you to see.

“I’ve been going on apartment viewings,” he says. “I was trying to work out which place was best. What’s in our budget, where’s between my work and your garage—I’ve been trying to narrow it down.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded. He’s smiling at you in that way of his that you love so much, the one that squeezes his eyes and lets you see his crooked front tooth—the smile that drives home that Jimin is flawlessly flawed, perfect with his imperfections, overwhelming in his beauty.

“Jimin,” you breathe. “You want to move in with me?”

“More than anything,” he says. “I thought it would be nice if you didn’t have to worry about anything because I would have already done all the legwork. I wanted to surprise you.”

Your face crumples. You don’t mean to, but you can feel tears welling in your eyes; Jimin moves instantly, pulling you close to him as you try to swallow down the sudden rush of emotion, overwhelmed. You’re both still naked, your skin pressed against his as he holds you, but there’s no lust behind this touch—it’s all love and affection and you still can’t believe that Park Jimin is yours. You’ve never felt so lucky in all your life.

“You should have told me,” you sniffle. “Apartment viewings suck. I could have helped.”

Jimin laughs, a light giggle that ends up muffled against your scalp when he noses into your hair. “That would have defeated the purpose of the surprise, sweet thing,” he says. He pulls back so he can look at you, and just like when he’d seen you cry before, there’s no judgement on his face—just warm empathy and fondness. “They do suck, though. It’s taken so much longer than I thought. I never meant to make you feel neglected.”

“I was being stupid.” You huff out a breath into his face. “Like—okay, sure, maybe you weren’t spending as much time with me as you normally do, but you weren’t neglecting me. I just got so used to having you whenever I wanted you.”

Jimin smiles. He keeps hold of you, pulled close in his embrace, and you know then that you’re never going to let Park Jimin go. “When we move in, you will,” he says, and you shiver at the promise of future pleasure—not just sex, but closeness, intimacy, a promise to one another that this is going to become more.

But, like, also the sex, too.

God, Jimin is so gorgeous.

You let Jimin thumb your small tears away. You hate crying in front of anyone, hate feeling weak, but Jimin never judges you. He makes you feel safe, like you can be open with him, and you know he’ll never betray your trust. You press a kiss to his Adam’s apple before you peer at the printed sheets on the coffee table, wanting to see the fruits of his labour. “So are these the ones you’ve narrowed it down to?” Your eyes flicker over the pages. “Take me through them.”

You end up curled in his lap, looking through each of his choices together—and hey, if you get distracted by each other halfway through the selection, who can blame you?

---

TAGLIST: @beyoncesdragon​ 

[dastardlydandelion]

e is for escape

 ao3 link 

content warnings: implied abuse, mild blood

Susan doesn’t remember leaving the house.

She doesn’t even realize she’s been walking along the road until she’s caught in blinding headlights. She gasps and she needs to run, she needs to pitch herself out of its path, but instead she freezes like a doe. Tires screech as the driver slams the brakes and the car makes an abrupt stop. Susan releases a rush of breath, gaping down at the hood close enough to rest her hand upon, the hood that her entire body perhaps, would’ve expired upon.

“Are you alright!?”

The driver practically flings herself out of the seat and Susan recognizes her as Joyce from the general store. She doesn’t close the door behind her and hurries to Susan’s side, dragonfly eyes wide. Susan blinks rapidly, wetting her lips with her tongue and crinkling her nose at the unpleasant flavor she finds. She swallows instead of spits, lest she appear rude.

“Oh my, I must’ve interrupted date night,” Susan realizes as she studies the smaller woman’s appearance, dressed in a deep emerald cocktail dress, dark hair crimped. “I apologize…you, um, you look lovely.”

Joyce steps back from Susan, mouth agape as she too, studies her. Susan shuffles awkwardly and hugs her arms around her middle. When she glances down and takes stock of herself, she supposes she can’t blame the other woman for staring.

“Goodness, you must think I’m a mad woman,” she mutters critically.

What was she thinking leaving the house?

She isn’t even dressed. She’s clad in her bedclothes, pink bunny slippers on her feet, cotton nightgown under her somewhat ratty blue terrycloth bathrobe.

“Are you hurt?” Joyce asks and the severe set to her gaze makes Susan suddenly, incredibly uncomfortable.

“Uh.” Susan takes stock of herself. Her throat is sore. Not like the prickly itch when a cold’s coming on, but the dull throb that lingers when Neil squeezes so tight sometimes she fears she’ll die. She feels inclined to rub it, but she can’t, of course, not in front of Joyce.

“Are you bleeding?”

“Bleeding,” Susan repeats, unfolding her arms. She warily touches one of many tacky splotches drying in the terrycloth and quickly draws back, shaking her hand like she can rid her fingertip of the eerie feeling it gave her. “No, I…I was cooking. This must be s-sauce. I didn’t quite realize what a mess I made.”

Joyce takes another step back and swallows, exhaling slowly. She seems mildly disturbed and Susan twinges with embarrassment. Of course the poor woman is disturbed. She almost ran over a bedraggled bunny slippers stranger sautéed in marinara splashes. Well, near stranger, anyway.

“You know me,” Susan hums, hoping the reminder might soothe her nerves. “Well, n-not— you know my daughter better. Max is friends with Will? The kids always play at your place. She’s— you’ve had her over for dinner.”

“That I have. Mrs. Hargrove, where is Max now?”

“Please call me Susan.” She gives a short little wave with her hand, notices a thin cut across her palm. That’s odd. It makes her even more uncomfortable with this whole nebulous situation. “Uh, Max is at the m-movies. There was something she wanted to see— one of those, um, slash ‘em ups, I don’t understand her taste. But I knew she wanted to see it, so um, I told my stepson to take her. He’s old enough to chaperone her to the R-rated ones and…”

Susan trails off, blinking rapidly. It’s the strangest thing. But early evening feels so far away now, as if it’d been another lifetime rather than a few hours ago.

“I thought if they were going to go out, they might as well make the most of it. So I gave them enough money for a double feature…and he listened to me. It’s funny, really, Billy hardly ever listens to me. But tonight he did.”

“I have a teenager too, I understand.” Joyce cracks a smile but it’s a nervous thing, quivering uncertainly on her lips. “Everything goes in one ear and out the other.”

“Mm.” Susan bobs her head although she suspects it isn’t exactly the same. It’s probably different. Tonight she feels very different.

“Why don’t we get in the car? I can give you a ride.”

Susan’s first instinct is to refuse. Joyce rests a subtly shivering hand upon her sauce stained wrist and something in Susan stills. She rests her eyes upon the other woman’s gnawed fingernails and slowly bobs her head.

She follows her to the Ford. Opens the passenger’s door and swallows at the sight of her own fingernails. They’re also chewed. Except for the pinky nail. The pinky nail isn’t there at all. Only raw, wet grapefruit flesh weeping up at Susan where a nail is supposed to be. It hurts. Susan’s only just noticed how much it hurts, stinging something awful against the assault of cool air against unprotected meat.

She isn’t sure how it’s possible only to notice now that she’s hurt. Only to feel herself hurt as she sinks into the seat. Pain isn’t the only thing Susan feels. She feels an object poking into her thigh. She buckles her seatbelt and feels something thin and hard in her bathrobe pocket.

Joyce starts the engine. Susan can feel the other woman looking at her and schools her face into a mask of calmness. Plasters a smile over the confusion cresting in her chest and anxiety swirling in her stomach as she slides her hand into the pocket.

“So your kids are out,” Joyce prompts, circling back to the children. She seems very concerned about the children.

Susan traces the shape of knife in her pocket, heart hammering as her own concern grows. They’re fine. She knows they’re fine because Billy listened to her. She doesn’t understand why Billy listened to her. Why Billy listened to her tonight of all nights.

“They are. I don’t think they would’ve went home yet. Billy stays out all the time and I gave them enough for a double feature.”

“That’s nice,” Joyce says as she drives onward, trees blurring beyond the windows. “Do you mind if I ask what you were doing out here? On the road?”

Susan doesn’t recall, exactly. She doesn’t remember what happened. How she got from Cherry Lane to the part of the main road where there are no street lights. Why she’d leave home in her sauce-sullied pajamas, her admittedly childish but nonetheless comfortable bunny slippers. Her stomach clenches like a fist as she simultaneously clenches her hand around the knife handle.

“I don’t think you like me very much,” she breathes.

“Pardon?” Joyce raises a brow and she doesn’t look offended like Susan expects— she looks alarmed.

Susan shakes her head, harboring no ill will. “Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t expect you to. I’m sure you’ve heard what our neighbors say. Hawkins is a fishbowl and Neil is a friendly fellow, you know, helping the neighbors fix their cars, or move furniture, chatting away about sports games. T-Telling everyone what a useless heifer I am, I’m sure…”

“…to be perfectly honest with you, Susan, I’ve never liked your husband.” Joyce meets her eye, mouth twisting into a rictus as Susan licks an unpleasant metallic taste from her own lips for the second time tonight. “Neil is always friendly at the store. He smiles and greets me, occasionally even compliments me without ever being inappropriate. Sometimes he helps elderly shoppers with their bags. Max never speaks badly of him when she comes over with the other kids, but there’s just something about him that rubs me the wrong way.”

Susan throws her head back and she means to laugh but the sound that escapes her throat is far closer to a sob.

“I don’t remember running from my house in my pajamas,” she admits, and although she doesn’t remember doing it, she knows she did indeed run. She did not walk, she did not slink, she ran. “But I've just remembered why I left.”

“Yes?”

Susan looks over Joyce again, positively exquisite in her fine dress, soft crimped hair Susan sort of wants to run her fingers through. Such a contrast to her own disheveled appearance, hair in tangles, cut on her hand, torn away pinky nail, sweaty, wrinkly bedclothes stained with—

“I left to get rid of this,” she announces, pulling the knife out of her bathrobe pocket and holding it out in front of her, sharp tip pointing upward, smears baleful and accusatory. “Please don’t tell.”

[hanaridulsetcheese]

Horror Movies ~ Hwang Hyunjin

Today was a perfectly normal Sunday, you sat in your room reading one of your favourite books minding your own business. Your parents were out doing some grocery shopping and your brother was sleeping in his room.

You were about to get to the good part when your phone began ringing, taking you out of the imaginary world you have slipped in while reading.

You groan, prepared to take off with the caller but then you checked the caller I.D. and a smile came onto your face. It was your best friend whom you haven't seen in 2 weeks.

"(Y/F/N)! " you yelled into your phone, but then you remembered your brother was asleep.

"(Y/N)! I missed you so much! " she yelled on the other side of the phone.

"Same here! When are you coming back?! " you said in an excited voice.

"Tomorrow for sure. " she says.

"I can't wait to see you. I don't know if I want to hug you first or smack you for leaving me. " you laughed and so did she.

"Probably both. " she says. "Listen, I have a small favour to ask of you. "

"Sure, anything. " you said.

"I have this friend who really wanted to see this movie and I promised him I would see it would him, but then I had to leave, would you go see it with him? " she asked, you could sense the hope in her voice.

"Of course I will, but may I ask, who is this friend? "

"It's Jae. " she replied with a hint of suspicion.

"Cool, so when am I supposed to go see this movie with him? " you asked her, making it clear in your tone that you were not interested in him.

"Tonight, he said he'll pick you up at four. "

"You told him already. " you say, you honestly have given up with (Y/F/N).

"I knew you'd say yes. " she said cheekily.

"Whatever. " you rolled my eyes but then realised she couldn't see you.

"Thank you! " she said.

"Yeah yeah, but you owe me for this. "

"Absolutely, bye see you tomorrow! "

"Bye queen. " you said and hung up.

You checked the time and saw that you had thirty minutes to get ready so you walked into your closet and found something comfortable to wear.

You settled on wearing a graphic sweater and some jeans with your converse. You left your hair natural and put your contacts instead of your glasses.

You grabbed you phone and some money before heading downstairs to wait for Jae. You decided to leave your brother a note letting him know where you were.

Just as you finish write the note, you heard the doorbell rings so you stick it on the fridge and went to answer the door.

You pulled it open and revealed a rather excited looking Jae. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a blue polo shirt. You honestly thought he looked good.

"Hi Jae. " you greet him.

He smiled at you, "Hey, are you ready to go? " he asked. You nodded and he lead you to his car, being a gentleman he opened the door for you and you got in. He got in on the driver's side and drive off to the theatre.

"So what movie are we watching? " you asked.

"I was thinking the new one that came out, The Countdown. " he said.

"Sounds cool, what's it about? "

"Basically it's this game that comes to life or something like that, everyone has been talking about it, I was supposed to see it with (Y/F/N). " he said.

"Yeah she told me. She's coming back tomorrow though, you could see it with her tomorrow. " you said, in hopes he would leave you back home.

"I asked her that as well, but she insisted I watch it today. I told her I didn't want to go alone and then she said you'd come with me. "

"I'm not that fun to go out with, I think I'd fall asleep in the theatre. " you said.

He laughed and you two continued to talk on the way to the theatre, you would be lying if you said he wasn't a real catch, he was smart, funny, a gentleman and not to mention good looking, but you didn't have that sort of interest in him, you only saw him as a friend.

When you two got to the theatre, he insisted on buying everything, which made you feel guilty but you went along with it, agreeing to repay him with ice cream later on.

You walked into the cinema and took your seats, you went the early and got two good seats near the corner. The was only one place between you and the wall, you thought no one would sit there so you put your feet up on the seat.

A few minutes later, you saw a tall figure walk in your direction, he pasted Jae and looked at you.

"Can I please have my seat back? " the man said, you immediately recognised his voice.

"What are you doing here Hyunjin? " you gritted your teeth and looked up at your annoying neighbour.

"I'm here to watch the movie, I'm surprised you are here though. I thought you didn't like these types of movies. " he said, it was dark but you could still see his smirk.

"What do you mean? " you asked, looking at him in confusion.

"You see cupcake, this is a horror movie. " he said.

Your face went pale and you looked at Jae who wasn't paying attention to the both of you.

"Jae- " you called out to him.

"Hey (Y/N), I'll be right back. " he said, not sparing you a glance.

"Oh, ditched by the date. Classic. " he laughed and took Jane's place. "He's clearly not coming back so. " he put his feet on your lap.

"Get off me. " you shoved his feet off of you.

The movie was about to start so you ignored Hyunjin and watched the movie, but you could feel his eyes on you.

The first part of the movie was okay, but you were a little nervous because there were a few scenes that you thought were gonna have a jump scare.

You constantly kept bidding behind your hands and Hyunjin would see this and laugh at you. You glared at him and continued watching the movie.

"Don't go in there. " the main girl said.

You knew what was coming, but you wanted to be brave and watch the scene. She walked into the house, the floor creaked under her feet, you were digging you nails into your hands.

The first jumps are came up and you cowered behind your hands, there was suddenly silence in the cinema and you thought it was safe to look, but it wasn't.

A massive figure came on the scream and snatched up the main girl, this scared you and you didn't think about what you were doing, you hid your face in Hyunjin's chest.

When you came back to your senses, you realised what you were doing and pushed yourself away from his chest.

"Scared princess? " he looked at you in amusement.

"Shut it. " you growled.

Towards the end of the movie you couldn't take it anymore, the jump scares were so scary you started crying. Hyunjin didn't notice until he heard your sniffles.

He looked at you with a smirk, but it dropped immediately when he saw your tear covered face. He pushed the arm rest that seperated your seats and pulled you into his chest, holding you tight.

He rub your back gently and held you tighter as he felt you flinch because of the noises. When the movie ended and the lights came back on, you slowly pushed away from Hyunjin and wiped your tears.

"Are you okay? " he asked in a concerned way.

You nodded, unable to speak. You looked towards the exist and saw Jae walking away with a girl not even sparing a glance at you. Hyunjin saw this as wells and looked back at you.

"Wasn't that- "

"Yeah. " you say before he could complete his question.

You got up from your seat quickly and left Hyunjin without another word. You walked out into the lobby and looked for Jae bit he was no where insight. This meant you had to walk home.

You sighed and walked out of the theatre and began walking home, it was already dark and you were feeling quite scared.

"(Y/N) wait up! " you heard someone shout your name. You turned around and saw Hyunjin running towards you, trying to catch up to you.

"Let me walk you home. " he said.

"I'm fine thanks. " you said, walking faster to avoid him.

"Come on, we are both going the same place, plus it's dangerous out here. " he caught your arm, preventing you from walking any further.

"Fine. " you said and you both walked together.

There was an awkward silence that lingered around the both of you as you walked home. You knew Hyunjin was staring at you but you were too embarassed to look at him.

When you got home, you thanked him swiftly before running to your front door, you got in and ran to your room. Your parents were asleep so you tried being as silent as possible.

You changed your clothes and got into bed, not before looking out your window into Hyunjin's room. You hated how your house was built because your room and Hyunjin's were so close together, he could practically entered the room through your window.

You shake that thought out of you head and tried going to sleep, but scenes from the movies kept playing in your head, making you more scared.

You started seeing and hearing things and it made you cry all over again, you switched your light and and sat up on your bed. You tried to calm yourself down but it didn't work.

All of a sudden, you heard taps on your window which caused your head to snapped in that direction.

You saw Hyunjin waving at you, gesturing for you to open the window. You didn't want to open it, but you were too scared to be alone right now you unlocked it and and stepped back, watching him effortlessly jump into your room.

You crawl back into bed and look at him shutting the window.

"Can't sleep? " he asked, sitting on your desk.

"I- " you decided that there was no point in lying to him, "I'm scared. "

Hyunjin immediately walked over to you and creaked into your bed. "What are you doing? " you asked, watching him make himself comfortable.

"I'm going to help you sleep. " he said opening his arms for you to get in them. "Come here. "

"What no way I am cuddling with you. " you said.

"Fine then. " he started getting out of bed to leave, but you quickly caught his arm and pulled him back into bed.

"I'm sorry, don't go. I'm really scared. " you say.

"Then trust me on this. " he opens his arms again and you reluctantly get in them, lasting you head on his chest, his arms snake around your waist and pulls you close. He switched the light off and strokes your hair making you feel relaxed.

"Try and sleep now. " he says softly. You close you eyes and let Hyunjin softly lull you to sleep.

He kisses your forehead gently before muttering, "Good night princess. I love you. " but you were already asleep, comfortably in his arms.

[fandomsfeelsandfanfics]

The Arrangement, Part X/// Draco Malfoy x Reader

SUMMARY: It was the last day of your trip. It was almost perfect. Almost.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

WARNING(S): drinking, draco being a dick again lmao, angst angst angst

SERIES MASTERLIST | PLAYLIST

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The last night of your trip brought you to one of the very last places in Paris you’d ever wanted to be at. Draco brought you to one of his favorite night clubs, a magical one. As soon as you entered you saw a crowd of all different species moving on the dance floor.

You were nearly knocked down by a goblin. He issued you an apology in French, that you could barely hear over the music.

Draco’s grip tightened around your waist as he led you further into the club. “Draco, I think maybe we should just head back. We can have a lazy night, rent a movie or something.”

He kissed you on the temple but didn’t stop walking. “We can have all the lazy nights we want once we’re back in England but right now I want to show you all that Paris has to offer.” You didn’t see what this club had to “offer”.

“Draco...”

“It’ll be fine, just a few drinks and then we can turn back.” A few drinks were what you were worried about. You’d managed to keep Draco out of trouble this long. It had been easier than you expected and you didn’t want that to change now. You had a bad feeling about this.

But what was the harm of a few drinks? That was a normal amount, the amount that casual drinkers could typically handle. You looked up at Draco. He looked nothing like the man you’d seen almost two months ago in Narcissa’s ballroom. He looked healthy and happy. And you knew you could trust him. So dispite your uneasiness, you smiled and continued into the noisy club.

-

You kept up with Draco on drinks. You had only had two so far but man were they strong. You weren’t drunk but you were definitely tipsy. Tipsy enough to be giggling and tilting slightly to one side when you walked.

Draco seemed to have a slightly higher tolerance than you but even he laughed at all of the stupid jokes you made. If you were sober, you could tell by the look in his eye that it had less to do with the alcohol and more to do with the fact that he was absolutely enthralled by you. There were a few times when he’d stopped laughing far before you and he just got a chance to look at you.

When you were finally finished laughing, he leaned into you. “How about you get one more drink and then we go?” It was barely past 11 but that was just fine by you.

“Okay.” You stood up a little too quickly and almost came tumbling right back down. Draco’s arms came up to catch you before you did. You giggled slightly as he brought you back down to your seat.

“How about I get a drink and I’ll get you a water?” You nodded, that was probably an excellent idea.

Draco disappeared into the crowd and within a few seconds his seat was filled by some man you didn’t recognize. He smiled at you and you had to admit he was handsome, in a way you couldn’t quite pinpoint. Maybe he was half-Veela.

“Hello,” he said. He had a thick French accent that almost made you laugh. “I’m Claude.”

“(Y/N).” You stuck out your hand for him to shake but instead he brought it up to his mouth and gently kissed your knuckles. You supposed that’s how most people in France did it.

“What brings you to France?” He was sitting close to you but not uncomfortably close. You thought you’d never get used to how “friendly” French people were. It was always kisses on the cheek and standing too close when talking. It was charming but not quite what you were used to.

“Oh just a trip to get away from everything.”

“Well, France is the place to do that, no?” He laughed and you did the same. “Beautiful city, especially when you have someone to share it with.” Your mind drifted to Draco as you murmured in agreement. “How long are you staying?”

“This is my last day actually.” His lips turned down in a frown.

“A shame.” His hand came to rest on your knee and for the first time during the conversation you became actually uncomfortable around him. “But I’m glad to have made your acquaintance and the night is still young, no?” You could feel his hand starting to move and you grabbed it harshly.

You were sure your nails would leave a mark but you couldn’t bring yourself to be too concerned. You were trying to make a point. “No actually, I was just about to go.”

You dropped his hand and watched it retreat to his side. His other hand tried to wrap around your waist and you hopped up in surprise. “Please don’t touch me.” He grabbed your arm and tried to pull you back down.

“Relax.” You tried to pull your hand away but his grip tightened. You felt someone standing right behind you. Before you could turn around, you already knew who it was.

“I’d let go of her if I were you,” Draco said firmly. His voice sounded deeper than usual. Claude immediately dropped your arm. And you turned to look at Draco.

“Thank you, let’s go.” You grabbed his hand but he wasn’t looking at you. He had his eyes fixed on Claude and there was something dangerous in them. Something you hadn’t seen before.

“Just a second.” He stepped past you and let go of your hand. “Who are you?” He was standing so close to Claude, you expected his breath could’ve fluttered the hairs on his head.

“Claude, et toi?” Claude didn’t look afraid. If anything, he looked cocky and unapologetic.

“I’m Draco and I want you to listen very closely Claude.” Draco grabbed the front of his shirt in his fist. “You need to be very careful about touching women who don’t want to be touched. In fact, if you ever do that again, I’ll be sure to curse you from here straight to China. Are we clear?” Claude didn’t reply, he just nodded. Draco smoothed the front of his shirt.

“Have a good night.” Draco returned to your side and wrapped his hand around your hip low enough that anyone looking would perfectly understand that you hadn’t come alone.

Seeing how smoothly Draco handled the situation, made you smirk a little to yourself. You were just glad you had left without making a scene.

You heard Claude mumble something in French. You hoped Draco hadn’t heard it and you hoped even more that if he did he’d either ignore it or wouldn’t understand it.

“Pute.” It was just barely audible over the rest of the noise in the room. But Draco tensed and stopped walking. His grip on your hip tightened slightly. You looked up at him. That look was back in his eyes but now it was more intense. It looked like his eyes were aflame.

He slowly turned over his shoulder. “What was that?”

“Elle est une pute.” Before you could grab him or say anything, Draco was out of your reach. He grabbed Claude so quick you didn’t have time to catch up with him before his fist had already connect with Claude’s jaw. The commotion was so loud, lots of people turned to look.

“Draco,” you screamed. Claude seemed just as surprised as everyone else. He didn’t even have his hands up to shield his face when Draco’s fist came down again.

Now his nose was bleeding. Draco punched him again and there was blood on his fist. You ran to Draco, wrapping an arm around him and trying to hold him back. He allowed you to pull him back a few steps. “Have you had enough?” Claude was how bleeding from his nose as well as his lip. He looked dazed as he looked down at the blood on his hand.

Then he looked up at Draco and spit blood on his shirt. Draco broke free of your arms, knocking you to the ground. He didn’t listen when you yelled his name. He didn’t bother looking back at you.

He pulled Claude forward by his shirt and stuck his wand under Claude’s chin. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t use this.” He was so angry, he was actually tempted to hospitalize this asshole. He deserved it, Draco knew that much.

“Draco.” You tried to call him one more time. Your voice shook slightly. He finally looked over his shoulder at you. You almost flinched when he looked at you that way then his eyes softened. He looked like himself again but you still looked scared. That was all he needed. He let go of Claude and took a step towards you. You retreated from him.

“Love.” You took another step away from him. “Come on, let’s go.” He reached out for you but before he could grab you, you had already apparated.

He cast one last warning look at Claude, who still looked too smug for Draco’s liking but Draco knew it was best not to let his temper get the best of him. His temper and the alcohol. He lifted his wand and apparated.

When his feet touched solid ground again, he was in the hotel room. You were standing in front of him, looking around. There were multiple giant bouquets of roses resting on every solid surface in the main area of the hotel room. “What is this,” you asked.

“Tonight was supposed to be romantic, I kinda messed that up didn’t I?” He chuckled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You turned over your shoulder to look at him and there were tears in your eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could, you said, “Draco, What the hell was that?” Your voice was quiet but it shook with anger.

Draco’s eyes left yours for a moment. “I got a bit carried away...”

“I bit carried away?!” You yelled so loud he nearly flinched. “You could’ve killed that guy!”

“That asshole’s fine and anyways, he deserved it. You should’ve heard the things he was saying about you. He just wouldn’t shut up, I couldn’t just let him go, could I?”

He looked back at you and your arms were crossed defensively. “Maybe if you weren’t drunk.”

“I wasn’t drunk. I hadn’t even had that many—”

“You’d had enough!” You paused, taking in one slow, shaky breath. “Draco, you don’t know how terrifying that was. When you drink you turn into a completely different person.” You we’re looking at him but there was this far away look in your eyes like you weren’t really seeing him. “I could barely recognize you....You scare me, Draco.”

Draco stepped forward and you took a step back, making sure you kept a distance between you. “Come on, that’s not me. I got a little pissed off and sure I had a few drinks. You know I’m not like that.”

He tried coming closer to you and almost audibly let out a sigh of relief when you let him. He put a hand on your shoulder and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again.” He wrapped his arms around you. You didn’t hug him back.

“I need to think.” You broke free of the hug and walked towards the bedroom. Lucky for you, there was a path of rose petals in case you couldn’t find the way. You tried to ignore them.

“Let’s just go to sleep, we can talk about it in the morning.” He was following but not too close behind.

“No, I want to go home.” There were rose petals on the bed. Charming.

You pulled out your luggage and started dumping your belongings into it. Draco watched you from the doorway. He knew better than to try and stop you.

“I don’t think we should go tonight.” You didn’t stop stuffing your clothes in the suitcase. Draco came to kneel down in front of you. “(Y/N), stop. Listen to me,” you stopped your packing and looked up at him, “you’re angry and tired and still a little drunk. You should rest. I’ll sleep on the couch and we’ll leave first thing tomorrow. Okay?” You looked down at your hands.

Your fist was wrapped around one of Draco’s shirts. How had it gotten there? You hazily remembered wearing it one of the first nights you’d been here. You wondered if it still smelled like him but didn’t quite feel like finding out. You unclenched your fist and let it drop to the ground.

“Yeah, alright.” You closed the suitcase and stood up.

“Goodnight.” You didn’t reply as you drifted to the bathroom. Draco closed the door and drifted out to the little sitting area.

The flowers were hard to look out now. They seemed like a joke now, and not a funny one. He slumped onto the couch, rubbing his eyes. The shower came on.

He felt sober now and really wished he didn’t. His mind was painfully clear. One thought rang through as his hand reached for something in his pocket. He might of just fucked up the best thing that would ever happen to him.

With a sigh, he shut his eyes. A rose petal drifted down from the bouquet resting right above him and landed perfectly on his nose. He opened his eyes angrily and stared at it. One big fucking joke.

[eurovision-del]

And now, just before the show tonight, here’s the conclusion of my ranking of the entries this year, with my top 10.

10. Sweden – Move

I never got the hype for any other song in Melfest this year so I was overjoyed when this song won! It’s just such an expression of love and joy, with a message that may be familiar but still very important. The Mamas nail those harmonies and each gets a moment to shine, their voices are so incredible. I enjoy the pop sounds in the chorus well enough, but the moment I love is when it moves in the properly gospel bridge, it just brings the energy right up.

9. Georgia – Take Me As I Am

Georgia have become one of my favourite countries in Eurovision, up there with Albania and Portugal. I’m so grateful that they stick to their guns and do their own thing, sending interesting varied music. As a halfway decent rock song, this was always going to make my top 10. It’s not perfect as far as rock goes, I feel it could do with a little more variety, it’s all very loud with long notes, and I could do with some different rhythms and levels in the verses, but the scream of anguish works very well in the chorus, and I like the grungy sound the song has. I do think this song is saying something important with the idea of wanting to be loved as who you are while taking a dig at the big 5, but I do feel the lyrics, while to the point, can feel a little basic. Tornike is one of the artists confirmed for next year, and I’m very excited to see what he brings!

8. Norway – Attention

This is the best straightforward ballad this year as far as I’m concerned. I find it deeply moving, Ulrikke sings this song and sells it so well. Lyrically, I think this is actually really strong, at first I was put off by how needy it sounds, but the main line in the chorus ‘why do I think it’s ok not being me because of you’ brings it all together and makes it clear it’s about someone who knows it isn’t healthy, but can’t help themselves, and it makes the song feel so much more relatable and painful to me. The melody is also really strong, and I adore the moment after the quieter bridge where the song absolutely lets loose in the climax.

7. Germany – Violent Thing

Sometimes a song just cuts through, and I don’t care about the lyrics, and I can’t point to what it is, but it just sets the mood so well and I just want to dance. This is that song this year. I could point to a good production, and a unique voice, but in the end I can’t really justify my love for this song other than the instrumental just works for me! I want songs to make me feel something and this is just makes me feel happy, I can’t really explain it.

6. Czech Republic – Kemama

So remember when I ranked this song 5th out of 7 in the Czech selection? I still stand by that ranking, that’s how strong that selection was this year. That said Kemama did grow on me over time. I’ve just finished my final semester at Uni and submitted my dissertation a couple of days ago, and I’m not sure when it was, but at some point this song became my relief from it all, I love how chill it sounds while still being really uplifting, and those pre-chorus lyrics (I just work like this, 24/7) became a bit of an anthem for me these past months. The lyrics hit the perfect spot between being really personal to the singer, but also very relatable. I didn’t hate the first revamp either, though it was poorly mixed, and I really like the final version, those little guitars are so nice, though like Alcohol You I wish it had upped the intensity on the final chorus by working on the backing track without having to resort to changing the melody and forcing in a dramatic note in the main line, but I think it’s still a great track.

5. Israel – Feker Libi

So looking at the average mood of my top 10 (with some exceptions), apparently I just wanted to feel good things this year. This is the song that encapsulates that, it’s such a burst of joy and fun, and the one that most successfully fills me with happiness and makes me want to dance! I think the blend of different ethnic influences in the backing and the different languages works so well here. There’s so many things that just work here, from the little instrumental line at the very opening, to the vocal calls, to the way it repeats the chorus just enough to get it well and truly stuck in your head, but switches up the beat to keep it interesting and exciting. I love the second half of the chorus where the heavier ethnic beats come in, but I think part of why it works is because it contrasts so nicely with the more familiar dance beats in the first half of the chorus. My favourite part though is the end, where it ramps up the energy with the beat switch and it’s just so good! And to top it all off it’s sung by Eden Alene, who is such a great charismatic performance, she exudes joy on that stage and just seems like someone you’d want to party with. Of all the artists who are confirmed for next year, she’s the one I’m happiest for.  

4. Ukraine – Solovey

In Feker Libi I could point to so many individual parts and say why they work for me, for Solovey I just have to point to the whole song. The blend of ethnic sounds with that singing technique and the modern beats works really well, and while drops are very hit and miss for me, this one just works. It’s a truly unique entry, I can’t think of anything I can really compare it to, and one that I absolutely love.

3. The Netherlands – Grow

This song was one of the later ones released, at a similar time to many others, and I thought it was nice but kind of overlooked it the first time I heard it. I can’t remember when it was, but there was one time I was listening through all the songs, and it just reached out and touched me, and I absolutely fell in love with this song. I love the structure here, the way it starts contemplative with several verses, before the final section builds up to a peak right at the end of the song, taking you on a journey from almost bittersweet reflection to a final note of confidence and hope. Jeangu has such a great voice, and I adore the way he sings this song, he brings so much texture and emotion to the lyrics. And about those lyrics, these are easily my favourite this year. I tend not to look up lyrics for songs, if I can’t pick them out in the song, I won’t judge them, and that was absolutely true for this song, but this song really puts the lyrics front and centre so I couldn’t help but pay attention. Similar to Kemama, they’re a good mix of deeply personal and relatable, but the emotional connection is so much deeper in this song. This is the point in my ranking where I really start to mourn that we’ll be missing these songs on stage, I’m sure Jeangu will bring something great next year but this song is so excellent I’m disappointed we’ll never see it on stage.

2. Iceland – Think About Things

Looking back on my rankings at the time I almost can’t believe I didn’t rank this song first in Iceland in the semis. But by the time the final came round I knew I wanted it to win though, and it’s only grown on me since. There’s not much I can say on this song that I haven’t said before, the instrumentation is top tier, I love the 80s synth, that brass in the instrumental, and that baseline. The song progresses so nicely into the best key change of the entire Eurovision season, national finals included, and puts such a smile on my face. It might not make me want to get up and party like Feker Libi does, but it’s just so uplifting and enjoyable, and you can’t help but dance along a little. It’s also got some great lyrics which are a genuine expression of love for his daughter. I was worried the staging might make it seem a little goofy, but the overall internet reaction has been really positive, and the whole performance is just a lot of fun.

1. Lithuania – On Fire

And finally, my favourite song of this year. The perfect combination of a slick instrumental production with a real soul. The message of never being too old to live is great, and that instrumental line on the drop is just infectious. I also actually really like the way the lead singer sings, it’s a little rough but it compliments the backing track perfectly. This song absolutely stands out on it’s own but it is elevated by the staging. It’s definitely one of the best staged performances of the national final season, ‘winner vibes’ might not be the most helpful term, but this was the performance that really gave me them. We’ll never know who would have won this year, there were certainly options, but I do feel for Lithuania as this was their big chance to snatch their fist win. I don’t know if The Roop will come back next year, but I do worry that this was lightning in a bottle, I’ve listened to some of their other songs and they’re very good, but everything about this was perfect, from the song, to the staging, to the performance, and it’s going to be very hard to replicate.

Overall, I found this year a little less interesting than last year, with a lot of songs in the grey ‘this is fine’ zone, but there were plenty of songs that did stand out, and five that I truly love and look forward to listening to for years to come, as part of the Eurovision canon.

[iphoenixrising]

For 700 Followers!

Hi babe. Ah, you know, I think we could really work something out because if there’s anything I like, it’s Tim trying to have the I am an island attitude with clingy, needy Bat Alphas right on his tail ;) Tbh, I wrote this once and it got lost, so I cried, but I’m going to give it another shot!

Also, just saying but there was also a short thing done about *ahem* toys in this au, and you’ll probably find a similar theme X

**

There is nothing worse than water in your fucking boots.

Seriously.

His impromptu dip in the harbor was completely worth the pain in the ass because Two-Face is going to live to see another day, and he even acted less crazy than normal when he was handcuffed by GCPD, quiet while he was taken away in the back of a squad car.

The best part? The villain told him he was glad he hadn’t filled him full of holes after all. Red Robin is going to take that as a win.

And since his sleuthing is done for the night, he can go back to his Perch in Gotham City and get out of these wet clothes and put his damn boots by a heating vent to dry out a little.

He feels good enough about the night to order a pizza and do his notes while a slice is hanging out of his mouth when dry clothes are a thing.

He has a fan turning lazily, trying to keep himself cooled down because the Heat symptoms just started to manifest while he was riding back from the take-down (all that wind rushing by while he’s in a wet suit and still he’s starting to get hot? Seriously, body, stop making shit harder on him).

The pre-Heat could take up to three hours before the main event starts, and he at least wants to get the notes done and go blackout before it happens.

He’s got a bunch of Gatorade and power bars from two weeks ago when Jay and Dick pretty much showed up just in time for him to go full blown. Luckily, Dick had picked up more on the way to his Perch since the God-forsaken sixth sense had struck again. Somehow, maybe some Pack Alpha instinct, Dick had known he was going to need them, and true to form, the last Heat had been particularly vicious, his body in physical pain when he was empty.

(And no, he doesn’t need a reminder how nice Dick and Jay were about it when he was literally fucking crying. Geeze, things he doesn’t need people to see for 100 Alex.)

Which means he should have been good for a month and a half, but Leslie had warned him going this long on suppressants would have some effects on him biologically. She’d mentioned he could have two Heats back-to-back as a sign his body is starting to regulate like any normal Omega. So, really, this pain-in-the-ass is his own fault anyway.

Notes done, he logs out of BI’s mainframe and shoots the Titan’s a quick message, In Gotham. Perfectly safe. Going to sleep for 24-36 hours. Don’t freak out about the blackout mode, and shuts down his main system in preparation.

Barefoot, he pads around to shut off the lights and fans, grabs a Gatorade, starts pulling his nerd shirt off on the way to the bedroom. Security in lockdown and he’s starting to feel the burn just a little bit more.

Not long now. Damn, hopefully this will be fast and furious.

A locked box in the back of the closet is deposited by the bed, his thumb print accepted. He shifts through the unopened packages until he gets the red one and the blue one out, laying them on the bed to open before the round of fuck my contingencies ramps up.

(His face is hot, and not because of the pre-Heat. The two knotting dildos were purchased when he started thinking one night about what he was going to do when his body started regulating out, so Dick and Jay wouldn’t need to play Alphas to his Omega anymore. Ironically, the two toys reminded him of their knots anyway, and he’d been guilty as fuck buying them.)

He’s already started sweating lightly and jumps in the shower to wash off Gotham Harbor.

His phone goes off while he’s drying himself off, shifting his weight because his abdomen is already starting to get tight and uncomfortable in anticipation.

The message on his phone makes him groan/sigh because the Red Hood is wondering:

Jaybird: How was the swim?

There’s more laughing emojis than he realistically needs.

In just boxers, Tim plops down on his bed, taps his phone to decide whether or not to respond. Since they already knew he’d taken down Two-Face, he really doesn’t have options.

Me: nice this time of year. Btw, Harvey didn’t drown. That’s a win for the good guys.

Before he’s done, the ellipsis meaning someone is typing shows up, so he’s got himself in a world of trouble by answering. Natch.

(On the other hand, his Omega whispers, if you hadn’t messaged back, they might come looking for you. It preens at the thought of his Pack Alphas concerned for him, coming for him– Dammit. Not. The. Time.)

Jaybird: Oughta come 2 the Manor. Al made pizza. Can celebrate?

Well, shit.

Me: Thanks 4 the invite. Running time-sensitive diagnostic for the Titans and crashing. See you at the next VA meeting tho.

Okay. So, normal. Jay will understand the need for fighting crime.

Jaybird: No problem. We’ll bring you some.

Fuck. Fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck.

Me: Nah. Not tonight. Gonna set this up and crash. The alarm will wake me when the analysis is done. Enjoy the pizza!

Jaybird: If you’re sure?

Me: Positive. Sleep is calling. GN.

And turns off his phone with a sigh of unmitigated relief.

Crisis averted.

Right?

**

Forty-five minutes later, he’s idly eating popcorn and watching Infinity War when a wave of blistering heat washes over him, and the gentle reprieve is finally done.

His cock is hard and aching within a moment, his hands fisting in the blanket under him, hips jerking. The soft, subtle scent of slick tickles the edges of his senses, his ass starting to get moist under his boxers.

But Tim has old memories of doing this alone back when he was still in the tunic, and he forces himself to breath past the initial stages, fists his hands even tighter to keep from touching himself yet. He remembers how much better the orgasm was when he held off for as long as he could, remembers the time between waves lasted longer.

He bites down on his lower lip to keep in the noises (but really, what is the point?) and tries to just keep thinking.

He shoves the unopened boxes over and sprawls out on his back, trying not to let anything other than his boxers touch his aching erection. His thighs tighten, legs spreading automatically, feet bracing to work his hips a little.

It’s fine. You’ve done this before isn’t really that much of a consolation.

With the fire in his body starting to get more and please and Oh God, his mouth falls open to pant, toss his head back and forth with the arousal building, making his belly get tense.

An abrupt cramp knocks the wind out of him ending on a small, helpless noise that inadvertently escapes.

Rolling on his side, curling in on himself, Tim forces himself to just fucking breathe through it, it won’t last forever.

–when the comm on his desk blips, and the tinny voice is just loud enough to get his attention over things like terribly thought-out biology.

(Everything in you is screaming for an Alpha to help, touch, soothe. It’s not really your fault.)

“If you’re asleep, don’t get up. We’re just going to drop off pizza and we’ll be out of your Perch-”

Which is nothing short of fucking horrific.

“Almost goddit, Dickie,” is lost when another sharp cramp makes him huddle further into the pain rippling over his upper body while his brain screams to just fucking move.

The scent of slick gets stronger, clogging up the room, and the door isn’t even locked–

The next cramp makes his muscles flutter, but he can wobbly-leg it to the door and collapse in front of it.

(I was stabbed in the fucking spleen and still saved Pru. Without Ra’s, I would have been dead soon after, but if I can do that, I can get through this.)

He flips a small panel on the door frame and presses his thumb into it, forehead braced on the wall while he grits his teeth and gets a second or two of his muscles easing back.

Tim focuses on breathing, listening, and sure enough, there’s a timid knock a few minutes later. The door knob wiggles once softly, nearly inaudible voices mumble back and forth while he holds his breath.

He thinks he might be in the clear when it goes quiet again, thinking maybe they’d gone to dump the pizza in his fridge and be on their way out.

But a very clear, “do you smell what I smell?” is the proverbial nail in his coffin.

**

“Timmy? Are you…awake?”

“Please go away, I’m…I’m trying to sleep.” Tim tries again, more desperate now that hearing his Alphas’ voices is hitting all the deep places in him where the Omega hides.

“Don’t smell like it, Sweets. Think maybe ya mighta forgot ta mention something ta yer Alphas?”

(You aren’t mine. This is just about fucking Pack dynamics and bullshit biology. It’s fine, he gets it.)

“Hey,” and Dick’s voice is low and loud enough to be heard, and Tim slaps a hand over his mouth so he doesn’t whimper. “It’s okay. It’s us, Tim. We can make it better if you just open the door. You know we can, don’t you.”

It really isn’t a question, and Dick doesn’t pretend to make it one.

His abdomen spasms and he’s rolling his forehead against the wall in denial because fuck, haven’t they done enough? He’s not going to die, and, seriously, he’s a shitty Omega anyway.

“It’s not Heat Mania,” he tries to be reasonable, proud of himself when his voice only cracks once or twice, “I can get through it by myself this time. Y-You two just gave up five days a few weeks ago.”

The hand goes back over his mouth and his boxers are getting wet now, the way he’s curled in on himself probably not helping the situation.

Voices talking too low for him to make out again.

“Seriously, it’s fine. You guys got me out of danger. This? This is just business as usual. B is out of Gotham and you can’t be here for that long–”

“–B called in the Birds of Prey ta help out while he’s out wid’ the League,” Jay breaks through his ramblings. “We got Rob n’ BG. Cass is in fer a visit, and a trio of ass kickers. Ya ain’t gotta worry ‘bout Gotham, Timmers. Shit’s all kinds a handled.”

The door knob wiggles again, making him gasp because shit, if anyone could crack his fingerprint locks, it’s probably the Red Hood.

“So. That’s not an excuse to go through your Heat alone,” Dick cuts in, sounds more ragged and raw, the Pack Alpha coming out in him. “There’s honestly no reason for you to go through it by yourself at all because your Pack is supposed to take care of you. And we are here to do just that, Tim.”

And fuck he does (and doesn’t) want to.

(It really is going to hurt like a motherfucker when it’s all over with, isn’t it?)

And while Tim Drake could give them a hundred different excuses, could explain it away a hundred different ways

(“I don’t want my Omega to get used to having Alphas. That just makes my Heats more difficult. Please understand.”)

–he, Tim, not the Omega, really doesn’t want to.

(Oh yeah. He’s figuratively fucked. Literally fucked to possibly follow.)

He’s already reaching up to thumb at the panel again before he realizes what he’s doing and pauses, sighs at his own weakness.

And like they can feel him hesitate, the heavy musk finally gets to him from under the door. The combination of Dick and Jay and the Alpha instinct to soothe.

“Please, Timmy, Baby. Please let us in.” Dick says to the door, hands braced on the door frame outside, staring a hole right through the damn thing because he really wants to say is please let us love you.

Jay is nudged tightly against his back, peering over his shoulder with those precious few inches of extra height.

“S’all right, Timmers,” Jay’s deep voice rolls past his ear when his second leans over to talk closer, simultaneously sliding a hand over Dick’s hip, finger making soothing circles around the bone. “Ya know we love it when yer all pretty n’ pink fer us, yeah? Heat makin’ ya bite yer lip n’ flutter yer eyes when we get ta touch. N’ ya know how much we like it, don’t cha? Ya know it don’t matter how long it needs ta be, ‘er how much needin’ ya got saved up inside. Ya know the only thing what matters is how perfect ya are under our hands n’ mouth, yeah?”

Dick smirks at the tactic, turning just enough to get close to Jay’s face and shove their mouths together in a quick kiss.

His mate and second just grins right back, his down ‘n dirty one.

“Wadda ya say, Sweets? Gonna have mercy on these two ole’ Alphas? Let us be good, n’ take care a’ ya like we oughta?”

There’s a low noise, something muffled by the door, but Dick’s muscles tighten against the front of Jay’s body, putting the other Alpha right on point.

“Sounds like–” pain.

Jay just nods, staring intently at the door, fingers tapping over the hilt of this .45 like he’s thinking of taking the easy way inside. “Starting up awful fast, ain’t he, Alpha?”

“Leslie said something about double Heats while his body is getting back under control,” Dick reminds him absently. “I’m hoping this is the only one he’s experienced so far.”

Jay hums a little, “you n’ me both. Don’t like ‘im hittin’ two ina month. Too much strain.”

“Agreed, but we–” and Dick gets cut off by the sudden, powerful scent hitting them right in the instincts. The Alpha in them knows what a spike that sudden means.

Dick turns to make one last plea to the door, please, Baby, you don’t have to do this alone, before they would have to go. If Tim was that adamant, they wouldn’t hack the door to get to him, to force him to accept them during his Heat, but if he caught their scents, it could make the cycle more painful (“The inner Omega will pine for an Alpha. Scents will not help, but make the [sic] situation worse. An Alpha should vacate the premises if an Omega in Heat does not belong to him or her”). To keep it from being so much worse, they’d have no choice but the leave.

The possibility sticks in Dick’s throat, makes Jay rumble out a low whine.

But the telltale click resounds, kills the words in Dick’s mouth before they get out.

It’s a breath when he and Jay step over the threshold, kneel by the (their) pained Omega, warm hands and soothing touches, purring a low reverberation that makes Tim’s spine uncurl when Dick gathers him up and lifts. Jay is back with more Gatorade and power bars, throwing off his jacket and holsters while Dick kicks off his shoes and straddles Tim on the bed, leans closer to start kneading out the muscle spasms and nuzzling against Tim’s throat gently, soothingly.

“Ssshh, sshh, it okay Timmy. We’re here.” And Dick tilts his head just a little so his throat is visible and his scent gland right there if Tim wanted to give him and bury his face there.

(He totally does. Stupid fucking instincts.)

And Dick’s hands are warm, the pressure just enough to work out those muscles, to make the pain ease down. At one point, Tim had wrapped a hand around Dick’s forearm to have something grounding.

“You don’t have to do this,” is low and soft, “it isn’t going to be bad this time. Just a normal Heat. I can handle it. I have handled it.”

Jay takes a knee beside the bed, reaches over to direct Tim’s gaze with a forefinger under his chin. “Timmers,” is more stern than he’s used to hearing from the Red Hood, “like me n’ Dickie dunno how much ya can handle? Like we dunno how much ass ya can kick? C’mon, give us a little credit, yeah?”

Tim’s eyes get more dazed with all the stimulus hitting him right in the Omega instincts, blinking hazily at Jay kneeling there. “Seriously, I’m a shitty Omega, and neither of you need this. It’s bad enough you gave up a week already this month.”

“I told you,” Dick counters serenely, hands pausing, “that you are not a bad Omega. I would have thought during your last Heat you would have gotten that.”

They can both see Tim swallow, his eyes dart away, clearly disbelieving but not calling them on their bullshit.

Dick’s inner Alpha curls around his insides, wanting nothing more than to flop on the pretty Omega and pin him down until he cries uncle and finally believes in them, wants nothing more than to stick his nose in the sweet scent gland and never move, wants to hear Tim say it, just once–

“I’m yours, aren’t I Alpha?”

–but there’s no room for that yet. Not here, not now. Someday soon when Tim stopped giving into his instincts to hide and protect himself. Even if the Omega in him had accepted their Alphas, it still drew back, remembered the pain they both caused at one time or another.

And Dick understood. As Pack Alpha, he can scent more keenly, as a detective, he can put all the evidence together with the spikes of adrenaline, the quickening of a pulse, the flinch when certain things are brought up in casual conversation.

(Someday, he thinks fiercely, nuzzling into Tim’s jugular, while the knots under his hands ease down, you are going to forgive us, and everything is going to finally be okay.)

He huffs a little when Jay kneels by the bed, hands folded to rest his chin and watch. Timmy’s head flops over, the lines around his eyes still prominent with pain and the ingrained struggle not to just give in, and Jay trails his fingers lightly over the hand fisted in the sheets.

“Hey, hey. S’all right now, ain’t it, Baby?” He keeps it low and deep, lets it end on a nice purr. Inching the hand over, closer to his mouth, “an’ ta think, y’ weren’t gonna let me n’ Dickie here fer this? Tryin’ ta punish us, are ya?”

“Wh-What?! What are you even–”

Dick’s hand on his shoulder stops Baby Bird from sitting up, his cheeks gettin’ pink ‘cause he get all embarrassed ‘bout it.

(And fuck ain’t it cute.)

Big Wing smirks a little and leans up, gives Jay some room. He takes all he can, rising up on his knees, turning his jaw a little so his musk is stronger, getting fuller.  He gets to wrap a palm around that wrist, pinning it lightly when he hovers over Tim’s wide eyes, makes him face this, face him, face them.

“Ya already know it, don’t cha, Timmy?” Low and growly against his mouth, flick of a tongue over his bottom lip, “how much ya make us want, yeah?”

And since Jason Todd is a man what knows how Tim reacts to being touched, how he gets so sweetly slick and ready, how needy and soft he can whine, knows that as much as Timmy says he don’t need this, need them, his body don’t agree with it.

It’s how he n’ Dickie can tell when Timmy is lyin’ ‘cause it’s the Omega what tells them the truth.

It’s why Jay can purr and nuzzle, can lean in and take his mouth like he owns it. When Tim makes a noise, arches his back, Jay knows Dick is mouthing at him, right below where his palms are rubbing, licking the line between boxers and skin.

Pullin’ back just makes Timmy chase his mouth, eyes half-mast and cheeks just the right shade of pink.

“See that, Sweetheart? How pretty y’ are? An’ ya weren’t gonna let us be here fer it? ‘M hurt over here.” And he purrs against the tendon in Tim’s neck, just the sharp edge of teeth teasing down to his collarbone.

“Th-that’s not–!”

“But it is, Timmy,” Dick fills in soothingly, mouthing at the waistband of his boxers. “You weren’t going to let us have this.”

“Dammit that isn’t–”

“Sshh,” and Jay presses a kiss back to his throat, right below the scent gland, “s’all right. We f’give ya, Sweets. ‘Cause we’re here now, and that’s what matters, you feel me?”

Tim finds it in him to brace a hand against Jay’s shoulder, pushing him back just enough to be able to think around the heat pooling in his stomach, lighting his body with need.

“It isn’t like that!” He tries, he really does, stares into those eyes with green flecks faded away. “It–this–it’s just!”

Dick finally seems to have enough, knee walking up so he and Jay could loom over the squirming Omega, both of them facing him down.

“At first, it was because of the Heat Mania, Timmy,” Dick’s voice is low and firm, “but it stopped being about that for me in the first five minutes.”

Jay purrs at him softly, “like I’d keep comin’ back ta ya if’n it was only ‘cause a’ biology, Timmers. Like you think I don’t see this fine as fuck ‘Mega right ‘chere needin’ an Alpha? Like I don’t want a piece a’ ya?”

That is...so not what he anticipated tonight once he’d given the Alphas an appropriate out. The admission makes his heart thump painfully in his chest, a jolt of fear slithering through his brain pan at all the implications of this–

–that would fully set in later on after his body stops trying to literally kill him with sex.

Because it’s enough of a push, this moment when scents are so fucking sincere and they’re looking at him with heat and affection, and he wants so desperately to believe. It’s enough to make the Omega in him rear up past his barriers and bullshit masks, for the whine, the call to his Pack, to his Alphas, to spill out of his mouth without holding back.

Fuck.

Because even though it’s a rough, soft sound, something he’d never been able to let himself do before now, not with all the secrets he’d had to keep, it makes some of the tightness in his chest ease down to finally be able to let it out, let his instincts take over.

In the form of a whine, a call to his Alphas. His Omega could finally stop mourning being left out of the Pack.

So he’s completely unprepared for Dick and Jay to react so distinctly to that noise, for them to bury their faces in his throat and lick along both sides until the kiss of teeth along his collar bone becomes a bloom of pain and sinks deep into his subconscious. It’s not (and he gasps in a hard breath just thinking about it, about either of them biting down on the back of his neck instead…) to mate him or make him submit, it’s just marks made to show ownership, to show Pack, and his eyes might get a little hot and full with it while the Omega in him rolls over to show its’ belly to the (his) Alphas.  

And it’s something he’s been wanting for so long, the confirmation that he’s no longer the outcast, the Omega without a place. During the long road to come back to Gotham, back to the Bats, he hasn’t let himself sink into the depression that hit back when his tunic was yanked out from under him, leaving him hanging.

With the indents of teeth along his collarbone, with the distinct Alpha scent on his neck, the assurance he’s been claimed as their Pack Omega for anyone to see, is enough to make him close his eyes tight to keep from fucking crying. Instead, he distracts himself by lifting both arms around his Alphas to hold on while they lick across the indents of their teeth, soothing the sting.

He doesn’t let himself panic when they move on from marking him, when Jay is licking into his mouth and Dick’s hands are spreading his thigh, long-fingered hand cupping his straining erection.

He keens with it, back arching at the onslaught, his inner Omega sated with the marks on his body, languishing in the attention of his Alphas.

It’s so easy to fall under their spell, to put himself in their hands, and just give in. If they weren’t so damn careful and easy with him when he needs it that way, if they didn’t fuck him dirty and rough when it needed it that way instead, if they didn’t purr against his chest and lick at the marks, if they didn’t talk low against the back of his neck, if they didn’t hold the hell on when all he wanted to do is run.

Hands that know how to make him writhe, are busy smoothing up the sides of his thighs and over his abdomen, Jay and Dick trading places with his mouth. Thumbs make small circles on his nipples, makes them peak, makes the spark of pleasure shoot down his spine straight to his aching cock, while he keens in Dick's mouth.

“Uh-oh,” hazily gets through the heat pooling in his belly, in his blood, lighting his nerves on fire. “Looks like we have some competition, Jaybird.”

Fuck.

And Dick is leaning up on his knees, holding up the blue knotting dildo after he’d snatched it from the blankets, looking it over with a critically assessing expression–

Then those eyes slide over to the Omega spread out on the bed beneath them, the one smelling like a bakery, the one that needed him, needed them to take care of him.

“I told you, I can handle my Heats.” His face is going red and not because of the whole lot of naked happening beside the bed where Jay is stripping off the body suit.

“Mmhm,” and Dick widens his knees, spreading Baby Bird’s legs wider, puts the toy by his calf so he can be the one to use it on Timmy (and he is very interested on seeing how much of it his Omega can take before he’s screaming for the real deal).

The other Alpha’s eyes shoot to the subtly covered splash of red almost by the wall, and one brow quirks up as a side to the smirk on Jason Todd’s face.

“Dickie. Ya’ thinking what I’m thinking?”

“If it’s to fuck him with these things until he cries, then yes. I’m on board with that plan, Little Wing.”

“Good t’ see we’re on’a same page, you feel me here?”

The oldest vigilantes exchange a heated glance, the message clear from that look alone:

Time to teach Timmy a lesson and get to have him at the Same. Damn. Time.

Two Robins with one stone.

Jay is already crawling over Tim to lay on the other side while Dick moves fast, climbing off to shimmy out of his clothes until he’s in black briefs, coming right back to the perfect spot between the third Robin’s clenched thighs. He grins, already deciding on a plan, while Jay pins both wrists above their bird’s head, preparing him for the on-coming torture.

And when this cycle is done, when they’ve both had turns teasing him between waves with the toys he’d purchased, fucking him fast and rough or slow and soft until their knots throbbed to be buried in him, when they’ve made Tim give in to them, over and over, made him beg for their cocks, promised to always call next time no matter what.  When he’s so overwork, overstimulated, a trembling, babbling, crying pile of please fuck me before I die.

When they make the lesson stick.

(“Never gonna need ‘em again. Ya gotch us, n’ ya better damn well call b’for ya use it again. Do you feel me, Baby?”

“These are last resort only, Tim. You only get to use these after you’ve called both of us and not because of a case or checking in on Gotham.”

He’d only been stupidly grateful all three of them could fit in his tub at the time, water lapping lazily around him, caught on Jay’s lap with his leg in Dick’s, hands on his ankle and calf under the water. He was dozing and utterly fucking destroyed, which is the only reason he agreed to it in the first place, dammit. They took advantage of fucking him completely out.

(Alphas. Of fucking course.)

But this time, after they’d been so fucking thorough in showing him where his place with them really is, Red Robin can’t help but wonder if it’s more than just a bunch of Alphas taking care of the Pack Omega. If all the sweet things Dick growls in his ear is more than just hormones and Pack Alpha lizard brain. He wonders if Jay’s dirty talk doesn’t stem from some messed up sense of guilt or responsibility from back when they were just, you know, trying to kill one another. Or, Jay was trying to kill him and Red was really just trying not to die.

He wonders if it isn’t just a matter time until his body regulates.

He wonders if they know what they’re doing to him when they act like he’s theirs.

He wonders how far they’re going to go.

(A part of him is terrified to find out.)

[ryqoshay]

Happy Life: Misadventure Around Her Eyes

Primary Pairing: YohaRiko Words: ~3.4k Rating: K AU: Angelic? Time Frame: Sometime after Episode 5 of Season 2 Story Arc: Stand Alone

Author’s Note: This scene was inspired by my stumbling across a video on YouTube that revealed the choreography for the B-side song for Sunshine’s second season opening. Said video has since been taken down due to a copyright strike, but pasting 君の瞳を巡る冒険  into YouTube may find a different version. Watching may help visualize the goings on of this scene.

Also, I can’t wait for All Stars to be released in English, so I might see the choreography of other songs and maybe be inspired to write more scenes.

“I-I’m the center?” Riko asked as soon as she saw the choreography notes.

“We thought it would work well,” Kanan began to explain, “as the song has a bit of a Guilty Kiss feel to it.”

“Which is why we also have Yoshiko-chan joining you in the main trio.” You added.

Yoshiko completely forgot to correct the name use as she double checked the listings to confirm that she was indeed being grouped with her most elite little demon. Suddenly the diagrams held a very different interest to her.

“I’ll agree that I was influenced by my subgroup’s sound.” Riko’s voice pulled Yoshiko’s attention away from the papers in front of her. “But why not have Mari or Yoshiko-chan be the center?”

Riri is still too shy…

“Yohane was just recently the center for Daydream Warrior.” The self-proclaimed fallen angel pointed out. “And having put on such a grand performance of your own, it is my honor to swap positions with my elite little demon.”

Though she didn’t seem entirely convinced, at least Riko blessed Yoshiko with a smile. A small smile, but it was enough to warm her heart.

“And since I helped with the choreography this time,” Mari spoke up, “I didn’t want anyone to think I was being biased.”

“Mari-san…”

Whatever else Dia said was lost to Yoshiko as her mind wandered. Hrm… Mari helped again? Didn’t she put Riri and I together last time as well? But regardless of the third year’s intentions, far be it for Yoshiko to pass up another chance to work closely with the elite little demon who was quickly becoming her favorite. No, not becoming, not any more, Riko was definitely her favorite now. By far. Perhaps it was because…

“You’ll do fine, Riko-chan.” Chika chimed in. “You’ve already done fine as the center of some of your Guilty Kiss songs.”

“Hmm…” The group’s pianist still didn’t seem convinced.

“And I’ll be with you to offer support.”

“Thanks, Chika-chan.” Riko smiled.

Yoshiko hated the fact that she noticed the smile offered to the leader of Aqours was bigger than the one given to her. She really didn’t want to hold that against either of the other two girls, but was finding it difficult to avoid doing so. She bit her lip and turned her attention once again to the sheet in her hand. Sure enough, Chika’s name was listed as the third for the center trio. She felt herself deflate a little. So much for having a chance to gain any amount of attention from the redhead now.

“Something wrong, Yoshiko-chan?”

Curses… Of course she couldn’t hide it from someone like her…

“I’m fine, Zuramaru.”

The brunette raised an eyebrow.

Think of something, quick!

“Yohane knows she is going to have to work hard to keep up with someone as amazing as Riri.”

Oh, now there was a reaction she hadn’t expected. Riko’s cheeks flushed a bit as she turned back to Yoshiko.

“Alright, I think I’m ready to try this.” Riko decided.

“Then let’s start practice.” Dia cut in. “Let’s head to the roof.”

Despite her initial hesitation, it seemed to come as a surprise to nobody that Riko excelled in her position as center during practice. Yoshiko figured her time with Guilty Kiss had given the older girl some much needed confidence.

Yoshiko turned to make her way toward the center of the formation. Toward Riko. Her heart skipped a beat as the redhead held her hand to her cheek as part of the choreography. Adorable.

Focus, Yohane.

Riko knelt down as Yoshiko reached her position. This was where Yoshiko would start singing were they not merely practicing the dance. This was something for which she found herself thankful as she wasn’t sure she was ready to do both yet.

She dropped her arms down and began to raise them as though lifting Riko back to her feet. The second-year followed along before turning toward her. Now came the part Yoshiko wasn’t sure if she awaited or dreaded. In either case, her heart was certainly getting fired up.

The two girls reached toward each other. A golden gaze met one of magenta. A smile shown like a miraculous light. Fingers came within millimeters a cheek…

“Yoshiko-san!”

The fallen angel jolted back to reality.

“You missed your cue.” Dia continued. “Your next move should go like this.” She demonstrated.

“Yes, my apologies.” Yoshiko replied. “It would appear this mortal shell is being less than cooperative today.”

“Let’s try it again.”

The second time did not go all that well either as Yoshiko was again distracted by Riko’s choreography moves. The third attempt, she was so focused on not being distracted that she missed things that had come easy on the first two runs.

A fourth attempt. A fifth. A sixth.

“Ughn…” Yoshiko groaned as sprawled on her back. “The heavens have surely brought down their wrath upon me this day. I cannot recall when last my curse ailed me to such magnitude.”

“I think Yoshiko-chan is tired, zura.” Hanamaru translated to the others.

“Very well,” Dia acknowledged, retrieving her phone to check the time “we can finish practice a little early today.”

Seven voices affirmed and the girls began to get ready to leave the roof.

“Are you alright?” Yoshiko opened her eyes and was immediately taken in by a golden gaze of concern and a hand reaching down toward her.

“I’m fine…” The fallen angel replied accepting the assistance to her feet. “Thanks, Riri…”

“You don’t seem fine.” Riko replied. “And don’t call me Riri.” She seemed to add as an afterthought.

“Well, maybe Zuramaru was right.” Yoshiko admitted. “I am a bit tired. Maybe I stayed up too late with my new game?” It wasn’t the best excuse, nor was it the full truth, but it wasn’t a complete lie either.

“Perhaps you might want to turn in early tonight?”

“Yeah…”

“Riko-chan!” Chika called, cutting off whatever else Yoshiko was about to say. “You-chan and I are going to stop by a café on the way home. Want to join us?”

“I’d love to.” Riko replied to the group leader. “See you tomorrow, Yoshiko-chan.” She said before departing. “Hope you feel better by then.”

“Yeah…”

“Yoshiko-chan!” Ruby approached her fellow first-year. “Hanamaru-chan and I are heading to the book store. Want to come with us?”

“Thanks, but I think I’m just going to go home.”

“Oh, ok…” Ruby gave one more glance at her friend before leaving.

Alone on the roof, Yoshiko sighed and lay back down. Staring up at the sky she pondered what she might do to get through tomorrow’s practice.

When the blue-haired girl reached toward her, the redhead couldn’t help mirroring the motion. As fingers gently landed on her cheek, magenta eyes cast a gaze filled with the same relief and desperation she felt as well. She resisted the urge to blink out of fear that the other girl would disappear again the moment she stopped looking.

It had been so long since they had seen each other. Amidst the chaos of a major clash between their sworn enemies, their group had been targeted by a strange spell and scattered. Several were still missing. But right now, in this moment, the only thing the redhead cared about was that she had finally found her.

When their lips met, the redhead was certain she was real this time. This was not a fake. This was not another fragmented reflection of the blue-haired girl she loved. She had solved the mystery. And she was no longer alone.

All that was left was to escape this realm, but for now, there was nothing wrong with spending a few moments together. Just the two of them.

Just the two of them…

Remnants of a recent night’s dream filtered through Riko’s mind as she stared out the window.

Class had just ended and due to a collection of coincidental circumstances, practice had been called off for the day. And everyone was busy. Everyone except Riko.

And Yoshiko…? Had Yoshiko mentioned doing anything in the group chat when practice was cancelled?

Just the two of them…

Riko found herself thinking about how Yoshiko was still struggling with the dance routine. She was performing all but perfectly on her vocals, but still seemed distracted when it came to the choreography. Perhaps…

SakurauchiRiko: Ne, Yoshiko-chan

TheFallenAngel: Yohane

SkakurauchiRiko: Are you free this afternoon?

TheFallenAngel: A fallen angel can always make time for her elite little demons

Riko rolled her eyes.

SakurauchiRiko: Do you want to practice our new song?

TheFallenAngel: I thought practice was cancelled

SakurauchiRiko: It was

SakurauchiRiko: But I was thinking maybe you and I could practice on our own for a bit

SakuruachiRiko: Since we’re part of the center trio

There was a pause before the app showed Yoshiko was typing again.

TheFallenAngel: Wouldn’t we need Chika then?

SakurauchiRiko: We should be fine with just the two of us

SakurauchiRiko: It’ll be like when Mari bows out of a Guilty Kiss practice

Another pause, longer than the first.

TheFallenAngel: Alright

TheFallenAngel: See you on the roof in ten?

SakurauchiRiko: Sounds good

SakurauchiRiko: See you in a bit

“Ah, my faithful elite little demon arrives!” Yoshiko intoned as Riko opened the door and stepped out onto the roof. “Welcome, Riri!” She spread her arms wide in an overly grand gesture.

“Did you get enough sleep last night?” Riko asked, deciding to ignore the nickname this time.

“But of course…”

“Good, because I’d like to try to get this nailed down. Yoshiko-chan is the only one still making mistakes.”

“Yohane!” The first-year slipped out of her persona to protest.

“Should we stretch first?” The second-year suggested.

“Probably would be for the best.” Yoshiko agreed. “This vessel was getting stiff after sitting in class.” She rubbed one of her shoulders and cracked her neck to emphasize her point.

The two girls went through most of their normal stretching routine, abbreviating it a bit as they decided Dia tended to push them a bit more than was necessary.

“So, how should we do this?” Riko considered. “Should we just take it from the top?”

“Hrm…” Yoshiko pondered as well, staring at the tiles at her feet as she visualized the starting positions those around her early in the song. “I think I can do that.” She decided after a moment.

“Alright.” Riko pressed play on her phone and set it down before quickly taking her position.

The first part was easy. Come to think of it, things had been fairly smooth here since the beginning. Riko sang her part before kneeling in front of the approaching Yoshiko.

Yoshiko began her part using Yohane’s range. It hadn’t been Riko’s intent when she wrote the melody, but she had to admit it worked well for this section; as seemed to be the case more and more often. The younger girl had a remarkable singing voice and seemed to have few issues hitting whatever notes were needed, be they high or low. If the group ever ended up doing solos, Riko wondered if she could experiment with that range.

But for now, they had to make sure Yoshiko could match that skill in her dancing…

Riko stood back up and turned toward the first-year, following the beat of the music coming from her phone. This was the most common point where Yoshiko would make a mistake, so Riko wanted to be vigilant.

As the two reached for each other, adora… magenta eyes seemed to be watching her intently. Yoshiko smiled brilliantly as… wait…

“Riri?”

“Oh… sorry…” Riko paused. “Looks like I’m the one who missed my cue this time.”

“That’s not like you.” Yoshiko pointed out. “You feeling alright?”

“I’m fine, I was just…” what was the right word? “distracted? Or… something, by your smile.”

The younger girl blinked twice before one side of her mouth went up to form a questioning smirk. “My smile?”

“Yeah, it didn’t seem right for some reason.”

“Ku ku ku…” The fallen angel persona was donned like a mask as Yoshiko held her signature gesture to her eye. “Is Yohane’s devilish smile causing my elite little demon to fall from grace?”

“No, it seems like it’s being forced.”

“Forced?” The persona slipped. “W-w-w-what need m-might a fallen angel have to f-force a smile?”

“So, you were forcing it.”

Yoshiko’s shoulders slumped, realizing she had been seen though.

“Why?” Riko asked with genuine concern. “Are you still not feeling well, Yoshiko-chan?”

“No, I’m fine… but…”

“But…?”

“Uhm…”

“Do you not want to practice with me today?”

“That’s not it!”

“Are you maybe jealous that you’re not center this time?” Where did that idea come from?

“Jealous?!” Yoshiko recoiled as though she had been struck. “Where did you get that idea?” It seemed they were both wondering the same thing.

“Well, you were amazing when you were the center of Daydream Warrior.” Riko explained, working her own way through her thoughts. “But now…”

As Yoshiko continued to gape at her, Riko began to realize she may have jumped to the wrong conclusion.

“I’ll admit I had a blast with Daydream Warrior.” The blue-haired girl finally found her voice again. “But it was even more fun because one of my elite little demons was there with me in the primary trio.”

“And now our positions are reversed.” The redhead pointed out.

“Indeed they are, but a fallen angel should always support her little demons just as much as they support her.” Though her word choice hinted heavily at her persona, her tone did not drop into it. “It is Yohane’s honor to support her elite little demon Riri.”

“So you’re not jealous and you’re not tired.” Riko wanted to double check to be sure.

“Right.”

“So… why the forced smile?”

“I guess… maybe…” Yoshiko was thinking very hard about how to word her response. “I’m frustrated. I should be doing better.”

“But your mortal vessel isn’t cooperating?” Riko remembered the fallen angel’s common excuse.

A rueful smile curled the younger girl’s lips, and there was something else in her eyes that Riko couldn’t quite place. “Something like that…”

“I see.” Riko found herself hesitant to push further for some reason. “Anyway, sorry about accusing you of being jealous.”

“It’s fine.” Yoshiko dismissed with a shrug. “And I’m sorry for not keeping up with everyone else on this song.”

“Well you’re not going to get better if you don’t practice.” Riko pointed out. “And that’s what we’re here for. We only have until the end of the week before Chika-chan wants to have live that features this song. But I know you can do it, Yoshiko-chan, so I’ll help in any way I can.” She held out her hand. “Shall we start again?”

“Yeah.” Yoshiko agreed, accepting the support.

Yohane, baka!

Yoshiko derided herself as she made her way home from the bus stop. She had just finished a questionably productive, private practice session with Riko that had concluded with the older girl saying their final run had been really good and she had shown a lot of improvement.

But Yoshiko knew better. It was nowhere near where it needed to be. Not yet. She was still being distracted by Riko. The older girl had correctly pointed out that they had performed together just fine in Daydream Warrior, but to Yoshiko’s defense, the choreography of that song wasn’t so… intimate? Was that the word for it? In any case, what was frustrating was that she knew why she was being distracted, but didn’t know how to fix it… or if she even wanted to fix it…

No. She shook her head. She definitely needed to do better, if not for her own sake, then for Riko’s. Riko was giving it her all as center and deserved proper support from the others. So, she had to figure out a way to ignore the redhead’s charm; that smile, those eyes… by the gods, those eyes…

Unless… she didn’t ignore it?

What if, instead of trying to resist her growing feelings for the other girl, she just relented and reveled in it? What if, instead of trying to force a smile, she just let one come naturally from her joy over being in the center trio again with Riko?

It might work… maybe… If nothing else, it was worth a try anyway.

For the first time that week, Yoshiko found herself looking forward to the next day’s practice. Tomorrow, a new game would start with what she hoped would lead to a dazzling future.

The crowd erupted in cheers, filling the gymnasium with thunderous applause akin to an approaching storm. The girls of Aqours bowed on stage, grateful for support of the loyal fans they had gathered from around town and school.

As the group made their way backstage, Yoshiko found herself still riding high on the energy the fans and her performance had given her, while simultaneously ready to collapse onto the nearest couch, chair, bed or even the floor after the exertion of three encores. It was a strange state, though quickly becoming more familiar with each live Aqours held. And she was fairly certain the other girls felt the same.

“Yoshiko-chan!” The blue-haired first-year found herself surprised at how unsurprised she was with a sudden and somewhat unexpected hug from a redheaded second-year. Perhaps the recent uptick in grappling was conditioning her to Riko’s touch? “That was amazing! Absolutely perfect!” The older girl marveled. “I knew you could do it!”

“Th-thank you.” Geez, why was she stuttering? She was supposed to be just giving in and being happy, right? “But Yohane could not have done it without the help of her elite little demon, Riri.” Yoshiko allowed herself to slip into her fallen angel persona in an attempt to avoid tripping more over her own words.

Much to Yoshiko’s surprise, Riko laughed as she pulled away. “I’ll look forward to performing that one again soon.”

“Indeed, I…”

“Riko-chan!” Chika called, cutting off whatever else Yoshiko was about to say. “You-chan and I are going to stop by a café to celebrate another successful live. Want to join us?”

“I’d love to.” Riko replied to the group leader. “Say, do you mind if Yoshiko-chan joins us?”

“Of course not!” Chika beamed. “The more, the merrier!”

“What do you say?” Riko turned back to Yoshiko. “Want to come?”

Though the invitation was unexpected, Yoshiko had no doubt about her answer as she felt a smile tug at her lips. “Sounds like fun.” She was able to get out easily, without needing the aid of Yohane.

“In fact,” Chika continued “if anyone else wants in, you’re all welcome.”

Yoshiko barely noticed the unanimous affirmations being given as she couldn’t tear her attention away from the golden gaze upon her. Riko gave her one more brilliant smile before turning and making her way over to where she could change back into her school uniform.

“Yoshiko-chan, what are you going to order, zura?” Hanamaru’s voice brought her back to reality.

“Yohane.” Yoshiko corrected, more out of habit than anything else, before joining her fellow first-years in a detailed discussion about what delectable treats might await them at the café.

Well, that had gone surprisingly well, all things considered. The blonde leaned back in her chair as she reviewed the happenings of the last few days. The blue-haired girl hadn’t yet succeeded in fully captivating the redhead, but she was at least pinging on her radar.

And what a ping it had been. The fact that the redhead had been the one to propose the private practice session was definitely progress. Then the redhead had asked the blue-haired girl along with the orange-haired girl’s invite.

Granted, the biggest ping was still the recent Anko incident. And the blonde hadn’t even had a hand in that. But that had resulted in the blue-haired girl suddenly remembering the nickname she had always used for the redhead. The blonde was still pondering how much she could influence the redhead’s reaction to that name, or help her remember the nickname she had used for the blue-haired girl, so those remained works in progress.

And on the topic of continuing efforts, the sub-group idea had gone exactly as intended. Now the blonde had dedicated time with the other two to work her influence. Time that was much needed, as one particularly inconvenient deadline was fast approaching.

So, what to do next? Would a private cruise for the three of them be too much? Perhaps some fishing? Neither of them got seasick, right? It was worth a shot. The blonde opened the subgroup chat window and sent an invite to the other two girls.

Author’s Notes continued in Followup Post

[northsidefabray]

Alone Together

Who: Quinn & Hunter @northsideclarington​

What: Quinn and Hunter discuss their relationship and become official

When: Oct 18, Evening

Where: At Quinn’s place

Notes: Mentions of Sebastian @northsidesebastian​

Quinn

Normally Quinn was one of the most composed people in the world. She was raised not to make a fuss and knew that she would have to keep her calm with her chosen career path. But tonight that calm and collected woman had spent most of the evening fretting over the meal she was making and the outfit she'd chosen, a simple gray and white dress. After checking her hair and makeup for the millionth time, Quinn stared at her reflection as her nose crinkled at the smell of something... burning. "Oh, no." Running into the kitchen that was filled with gray smoke, Quinn turned off the oven and then opened the door. Plumes of smoke billowed out and sent the fire alarm into a shrieking mess. "No, no, no!" Grabbing a rag, the blonde started to fan at the alarm on the ceiling, trying desperately to get it to quiet.

Hunter

Hunter's eyes fluttered at the feeling of the cool night air brushing on his face as he drove, the top of the car down while he took the road that led to  where Quinn lived. A paper bag with two bottles rested on the co-pilot's seat, along with a wild flowers bouquet, and he couldn't wait to get to her place so he could give it all to her. He was actually nervous, even behind the cool facade he always presented. It would sort of their first dinner date after what happened with Sebastian, and even if he was still bitter at him because of it, he wouldn't miss the chance to enjoy Quinn's company. After he got to her place he quickly got out of the car and walked up to the main door, only to catch the smell of smoke, the sound of the fire alarm, and also the sound of a very troubled Quinn. "Quinn? What's going on? Open up!"

Quinn

Tossing a look over her shoulder when she heard Hunter's voice, she cussed internally and tried to jump up to hit the fire alarm to make it stop but she couldn't reach it. Letting out a huff, Quinn ran to the door and flipped the lock, pulling it open. "I burned dinner," she said with a little whimper of helplessness. "I can't make the alarm stop." Turning back around, Quinn hurried back into the kitchen and reached over the sink so she could open the window, her rag fanning smoke out into the night air. "I went to finish my make up. I thought I still had time but that thing," she pointed at the egg timer that was definitely not ticking, "apparently ran out of battery or something." Quinn never burned food. She wasn't the best cook in the world but she knew how to not burn chicken. Unfortunately that was not evidenced by the practically charred items sitting in the shallow dish. Covering her mouth, she let out a few coughs as the smoke got the better of her.

Hunter

Hunter was getting very concerned in the few seconds it took Quinn to open the door, then when she did and he saw the look on her face, both a pout and a huff fighting for their place in it making her look impossibly adorable. He pushed the door closed, his hands full with the bag and the flowers, and he put everything on top of the counter before he reached up high and hit the off button on the alarm, making it stop. "There. All done." He moved quickly to the other window to make sure it was open, then turned his attention back to Quinn. "Don't worry, baby. It happens." He put his arms around her and pulled her close to his body.

Quinn

Thankfully Hunter could make the awful beeping stop. When the shrill sound ended, the kitchen was filled with only the sound of her waving her rag to get rid of the smell. As he opened the other window, Quinn let her arms rest and dropped the rag, looking up at him with a pout on her face. "I tried to make dinner," she said, almost sounding a little pitiful in the way she said it. Stepping into his arms, Quinn curled her arms around his back, snuggling her face against his chest. "I can order something," she offered, looking over at the dinner table that she'd set and had lit candles in the middle of. "It's a shame for all of that to go to waste."

Hunter

Hunter held her close and rested his head on top of hers, his hands resting loosely around her waist. "These things happen, don't worry about it" he said, trying to make her feel better. He turned his head a bit to look at the table and smiled, then pulled his head back so he could look down at her, their eyes meeting in a fond gaze. "How about that fancy gourmet takeout place we used to ordered a long time ago? I think your beautiful dinner table deserves something better than Chinese." He kissed the tip of her nose. "But it's up to you, really."

Quinn

Despite her perfectly planned meal falling to pieces, all it took was Hunter's words and that warm look in his eyes to make everything feel better again. Meeting his gaze, her heart flipped, skipping a beat and then rushing to catch up. A light flush crossed her cheeks that blossomed with the small hit on her nose. Quinn could feel his warmth wrapping around her, and she wanted to drown in him. "I think that takeout place sounds perfect. They had really good mushroom ravioli." Running her hands down his sides, her throat tightened slightly with nerves. "Do.. do you want the chicken parm, or?"

Hunter

Hunter smiled at her, glad to see her mood was brightening up a bit. His hand cradled her face gently, the pad of his thumb brushing the flush on her cheek. "Perfect then. Why not both? We can share." He chuckled, then pulled away a bit. "Where's the menu with the number?"

Quinn

Quinn closed her eyes, leaning into the pressure of Hunter's hand on the side of her face. The way her pulse raced made her remember those first times they'd ever touched when they had grown past two kids who always held hands when they spent time together. It was like the time in middle school when Hunter brushed the back of his fingers against the tears on her face after a particularly bad argument with her father. When he could so easily take away all of her fears and sadness with that small touch. "That sounds perfect," Quinn said, voice soft. "It's.. um," she reluctantly broke away from his touch and got the menu, handing it to him so he could order. "Are those for me?" she asked, noticing the wildflowers he'd set down when he came in to save her.

Hunter

Hunter took the menu from her and pulled his phone out so he could make the call. "Huh? Oh yeah... Sorry. Got distracted by the fire hazzard." He winked in her direction. "There's also wine in the bag. I didn't know what you were serving so I got us both red and wine."

Quinn

Wrinkling her nose, Quinn stuck her tongue out at him about the fire hazard comment. Then she busied herself getting a Tiffany vase and putting the flowers in water. They were beautiful, and reminded her of the flowers they'd played in when they were children. Setting it as a centerpiece of the table, Quinn listened to him order as she got the wine, choosing the red and pouring them two glasses. Walking up to him as he finished the order, Quinn handed Hunter one of the glasses and thought that she could wait to talk to him until after dinner, but she wasn't sure her anxious nerves could wait that long. "Do you want to sit?" she asked. "I have something I want to talk to you about."

Hunter

"40 minutes? Sounds good. Thanks." He put his phone down and took the glass from her. "Thanks. And it's done. We'll just have to wait." He raised a brow and nodded. "Sure... Is everything okay? Is Sebastian still bugging you?" he added with a huff, then followed her to the couch.

Quinn

40 minutes could be a long time, she thought, depending on how he felt about what she was going to say. "No, he's not- It's actually-" Quinn took a breath, sitting down on the couch and then taking a drink of liquid courage. "It actually doesn't have to do with Sebastian." Looking down into her glass, she bit down on the bottom of her lip, suddenly so nervous. Images of Hunter saying that it had been fun but he didn't want her anymore the way Sebastian had made her want to say nothing. "I've been thinking a lot lately and.. I don't think I ever told you how wrong I was to end things with you back in college."

Hunter

Hunter was already feeling a bit nervous from seeing Quinn that anxious. What could possibly make her that worried? He could see it in her face. He listened to what she started to say and shrugged. "I... felt it was wrong too. But I didn't want to push you. But now that I think about it, maybe I should've fought harder... for you. For us..."

Quinn

Quinn made little lines with her thumb nails on the outside of the glass, trying to focus on something that would maybe ease the nerves she felt. Raising her eyes at his comment, she shook her head. "That wasn't on you." Even back then, Quinn knew she hadn't given him enough explanation when she said she thought they should break up. "I  think I was confused. I knew I had feelings for Sebastian as well, and I don't think I ever thought there'd be a chance of having both of you." She shrugged, looking down at his hand. "It also scared me because you and me together, it's what my dad wanted, and the fact that you really made me happy just felt like I was giving him what he wanted." She scrunched up her face. "That sounds really pathetic when I say it out loud."

Hunter

Hunter chuckled and shook his head. "I suppose we all do dumb things when we were younger. It's not pathetic at all. It just happened. And maybe at that time it just wasn't meant to be. It wasn't the right time back then."

Quinn

Setting her wine glass down on a coaster, Quinn turned to face Hunter, eyes lost trailing the perfectly sculpted lines of his face, his deep and beautiful eyes, and lips that she could spend hours kissing. This was it. "Hunt, I.." Just take a breath. Say it. "I never stopped having feelings for you, not for a day since way back then. I spent a lot of time running away, and I know we're missing a part of us right now without Sebastian, but that doesn't change the fact that it's still you, and it's still me." Knowing that she was kind of rambling, Quinn let out a slow breath. "What i'm trying to say is.. I still have feelings for you. And what I'm asking is if you still have feelings for me too. And if those feelings would make it worth it if we, maybe, gave us another try?"

Hunter

Hunter looked right into Quinn's eyes while she talked, taking every word in, letting it sink in his mind and in his heart, and after the days he had gone through without having Sebastian as part of the hold they had they felt like a warmth blanket covered his heart again. "Sounds like it was a lot of wasted time back then..." he said with a somewhat sad tone, realizing how things would had been so different had they stayed together. He put the glass down too and took her hand in his, his other hand laying on top and cradling it. "I never stopped having feelings for you either, Quinn. And yes, I slept around a lot. Yes, I tried to let myself feel again for someone after so long. But the truth is... you've always been there. In the back of my mind, of my heart... I always felt this pang on my stomach whenever I thought of you with someone else, and I chugged it all to just being a concerned friend. The matter of fact was that I wanted to beat the crap out of every men who would dare to put their hands on you." He shrugged, then looked down. "When you told me about you and Puckerman, about the things you guys did, that's when I begun to doubt of myself, of my feelings, of everything. Then the limo stuff happened and it was such... a mindblown." He looked at her again. "I realized then what was the missing piece in me, and it was you two. Now I'm missing another piece again, but to think that I still have you-" He smiled. "I love you, Quinn... You've been my one since the day I laid eyes on you. And that's the way it will always be..." He nodded. "Of course I would like to give us another try."

Quinn

Quinn had been ready to tell him that it wasn't about Sebastian's suggestion, that it would keep the gossip mill from turning. She didn't want Hunter that way. She didn't want him to be someone she used for her career. He meant too much to her for that. But then he started to speak and the words he said calmed the raging tide inside of her, just like it had since they were simple children who didn't know any better. Her face flushed when he mentioned what she'd done with Noah; it hadn't been that long ago but anything since she had finally had Hunter and Sebastian felt like ages ago. Her heart raced with those three simple, beautiful words and the smile that spread across her face brightened her eyes, shining with a happiness that filled her from the inside out. Leaning forward, Quinn let her eyes close and she pressed her forehead against his. "I was so worried you'd say no," she whispered. "I think that's why I burnt everything." And just like that, the room smelling faintly of their burnt dinner, her hair a mess from frantically running around, she felt more centered than she had in a long time. "I love you too, Hunt," she said, brushing her fingertips along his jaw. "Always."

Hunter

Hunter leaned in and let his forehead rest against Quinn's, their breathing steadying up slowly from how fast their hearts seemed to be racing two seconds ago from everything they told one another, then he closed his eyes and chuckled. "I figured that was the reason. You get extra fidget-y when you get nervous." He sighed softly, the spot her fingertips were touching warm at the contact, and he reached his hand up and let his own fingers caress a strand of her blonde hair. "Always, yes." He pulled his head back a bit and grinned slightly, then took both her hands. "Lucy Quinn Fabray... Would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?" he said, his tone formal and deep, although he couldn't stop smiling the whole time.

Quinn

Of course he knew, she thought, a soft smile lighting up her face. Hunter was one of the only two people who knew her better than anyone else in the whole world. She'd opened up to them so many years ago. Those doors don't ever fully shut, no matter what happens in life, where you are, or who you're with. Quinn let out a tumble of happy laughter when he asked her to be his girlfriend, and it felt like something had just shifted back into place, like it was supposed to be. She nodded, smiling happily as she looked into his eyes. "Yes. Yes, definitely." Quinn wasn't sure if he leaned in, or she did, but there was a gently brushing of lips that set fireworks exploding around her. This was it, she thought. This was right.

Hunter

Hunter wished he had something more to seal that moment with, aa gift, a token, a promise ring. There was a time when they were kids that he would think of the many things he would had given her had she decided to be his girl, most likely a candy ring pop. But now he knew there would be a moment when he would have exactly what he would need when they decide to take their relationship... further. He was lost in those thoughts for a couple of seconds, when the brush of her lips on his brought him back to reality. He looked at her and smiled, then held her face with both hands and pulled her close, their lips now pressed together firmly.

Quinn

Quinn knew that Hunter felt it too, the fact they were missing a part of themselves, but at least together, they were almost whole. Her heart exploded with the feeling of his hands on her, warm and gentle just like they had been the first time they'd kissing under the setting sun on the banks of Sweetwater. Hunter had been right. There was a lot of time wasted, and Quinn was sick of wasting time. Her hands slid up along the front of his shirt, arms curling around his neck to pull her body closer to his. All this time apart and she just wanted to feel him close. Leaning into the kiss, her lips parted slightly, letting it deepen.

Hunter

Hunter moved his hands down her face and neck, his fingertips sliding down her arms and then sliding around her waist and pulling her close, his lips opening and welcoming the warmth of hers, the moist of her tongue caressing his own. He had been so scared he had lost her  for good after losing Sebastian, feared that perhaps she wouldn't want him without him in their lives, and how feeling  her body close to his, her lips stroking his own all those feelings went away. He knew he had Quinn, and she had him in return. He pulled away briefly to catch his breath, his lips parting in the widest, almost goofy smile as he looked at her, then he sighed and bit his lip down. "Quinn...  I do love you. So much... and I'll be the man you deserve. But- " He looked at her. "I love him too. And not having him here, with us, it hurts. What.. I mean, what should we do about him?"

Quinn

Quinn looked up as the kiss broke, neither of them moving away from the other, and that almost felt good. It felt nice to belong to someone officially, even when she knew in her heart she belonged to both of them. Her fingertips gently moved through his hair, nodding slightly when he spoke. "It does," she agreed. "It feels right being with you, but it feels perfect when it's all three of us." Hunter had always been able to read her mind, her thoughts, her feelings and this was what she felt. "We both know we can't force him into anything. The fact he ended things just says how real it is." Letting out a slow breath, she said, "I love you both so much. That's my endgame. I'll always be waiting for that, for him to come around, for us to all be together. I think that's what we do. We can have each other and still wait for him." Leaning in, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "We need to tell him in person. Maybe Sunday, when we see him?"

Hunter

Hunter nodded as he listened to what Quinn said. "You're right. No one has ever able to convince him to do what he doesn't want, not even us. I just- I really hopes he comes around. And this is not me saying that we're each other's consolation prize, but like you said, we're one. All three of us. And I know we could do it, and if he wasn't so goddamned stubborn he would see it too." He hummed at the soft touch of her lips and chuckled softly. "Do you see that ending well? I fear it might end up with his fist on my face and he walking away offended for some reason."

Quinn

That's how it was with Sebastian. The harder you tried to hold on, the more he pulled away, so trying to force him into admitting he wanted to be with them would never end positively. "Oh, trust me, he sees it. He's just scared of it. But that's why we still need to be there for him, and not pull away from him. He needs to know that he'll always have both of us, no matter how scary it is." Wrinkling her nose at the image of Sebastian punching Hunter, she shook her head. "He better not. I think.. I think Sunday might be a little hard for him. He suggested we get together for the sake of keeping gossip down but I don't think he planned on us getting together because we want to be together. My guess is he'll probably pretend to be okay with it but secretly hate not having us. But no matter what," Her thumb trailed along his cheek, not wanting a second to pass where she wasn't touching him again, "as long as you and I both know that we still want him and that once he's able to give into it, we'll be with him, then everything will be okay."

Hunter

Hunter held onto her hand and kissed it. "Yeah... I just  hope he doesn't end up hating us more. I mean, he did telll me, when he... well, broke up with me, us, that you and me should get together and killed the gossip down and all that crap, but I could see he was lying. That wasn't what he wanted. But now, seeing that we're actually doing it-" He sighed. "I hope it ends well. I really do."

Quinn

"I have faith," Quinn said, eyes lowering to her hand as his lips brushed against it. Her body felt warm and safe, like she had the first time he'd asked her to be his girlfriend. Like nothing in the world could touch them. "I have faith in him, and I have faith in the three of us. What we all have is special. It doesn't come by every day." If they had been anyone else, the fact that she loved two different men would have been the main conflict in a romance novel where she'd have to pick one. But she didn't have to pick, because the men she loved, loved each other too, and it was beautiful. "The three of us belong together. I know it my heart."

[let-love-run-red]

Night Horse

Request: could you do something from the prompt list with Clyde Logan and 'Why don't you just go' pretty please? also are your reader inserts gender neutral or do they have to be women?  

AN: This is my first stab at writing a gender neutral one shot so I'm so so sorry in advance if it falls short of your expectation loves.

warnings: very very light smut, more like steam rather than smut

You wiped down the counter of the bar, glancing around at the crowds that had been slowly growing. Ever since you'd opened your own bar in the center of town crowds had been flocking to the bar. Sure the Duck Tape was good, but Night Horse was better. You had a foot in both the city life and country life, meaning you knew exactly how they made the high end New York drinks having once worked there. You could say proudly you were slowly driving all the competition out, and you loved it.

You hadn't met the owner of the Duck Tape yet, but from what your best customer told you he was an ass. Max had showed up driving one of his friends car one day with a split lip. When you'd asked him what happened, Max had explained it all with hurt in his eyes. How the man had firebombed his SUV without a care, how his brother had slammed his face into the bar top, all you could say was the Logan's weren't viewed as welcome in the Night Horse.

"Hey (y/n), there's someone here who wants to see you." You heard Joe call from the kitchen. He was leaning out the doorway looking suspiciously at the man who was leaning against the counter glaring daggers. If looks could kill, well the man wouldn't be much better off with the way Max was looking at him. You wiped your hands on the towel hanging from your waist as you approached the man with a smile.

"What can I do ya for?" You asked, holding your hand out for him to shake. He took it firmly, squeezing just a bit too tight. You raised an eyebrow as the man released your hand. He tilted his head up, puffing out his chest slightly. You folded your arms across your chest and straightened your stance, matching the man's glare with your own.

"I'd like to speak with you concerning your business." The man said. His voice was low and gravely. His accent was thick like molasses and sounded just as sweet. You led him to your small office situated in the back of the bar. He followed, glancing at the decor covering the walls. Old metal band memorabilia covered the wooden slats with posters and signed guitars here and there.

There were also a few country singers scattered throughout, to match the occasional animal head you had mounted. You entered your office through the door that sat under the mounted grizzly head and the man paused to admire the animal.

"You shoot any a' those?" He questioned as you sat down, pulling out two glasses and a bottle of the finest whiskey you could get in Boone County. You poured a little in each of the glasses before replacing the bottle in your drawer and offering the man one. He sat across from you and took it politely.

"No, my grandpa shot the bear. The rest I bought." You said, swirling the liquid in the glass and eyeing the man. He looked down into the cup before setting it down on the desk. You raised your eyebrow.

"It isn't polite to reject somebody's offer of peace." You said smoothly. The man looked down at you, challenging your words with his own.

"It ain't polite to run someone's livelihood into the ground." He growled. You got a good look at his face for the first time, admiring the regal roman nose set above plump pink lips. The full black goatee on his perfectly off-centered jaw, the dark honey brown eyes under thick black brows and the long black hair that reached to his shoulders in waves. It seemed to dance when he moved his head to glance around the room.

You leaned back in your chair, placing your feet on the desk and crossing your ankles as you looked at your whiskey again. The man narrowed his eyes at your indifference,  making a move to stand.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about." You said calmly. By now you could figure well enough who he was. Clyde Logan, owner of the Duck Tape. If the way Max had glared at him wasn't enough of a hint the prosthetic arm definitely was. Clyde stood out of his chair, placing his right hand on the desk and leaning forward to shove his nose in your face.

"I have a feeling you do (y/n)." He growled. His breath smelled of mint and you had the sudden urge to lean in and kiss him. You held yourself back with a smirk and removed your feet, straightening up in your chair and placing your hand on his chest to push him back. He stood off your desk and pulled his shoulders back.

"Well Logan, I'm really not competition. If people truly enjoyed your little dive more than my bar then they would continue going there. But," With this you stood and walked to your office door, pushing it open and gesturing to the crowds surrounding the pool tables, the band playing on the stage, the frantic bar staff struggling to keep up with orders. "as you can see they're all here." You said. Clyde pursed his lips together, clenching his fist and letting a huff of air our through his nose.

You gently patted his shoulder, pushing slightly to urge him out of your office. Instead he whirled around and pushed your door shut, pinning you against the wall with his body pressed against your own. You sucked in a breath, finding your lips were mere centimeters away from his own. His eyes burned with either anger or passion, your head was too fuzzy to tell the difference.

Clyde glanced down at your lips, suddenly realizing what he'd done and starting to lean off of you. You found yourself desperate to keep the contact, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him back to you, crashing his lips against your own. He kissed you feverishly as you dragged your down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as you went. You kissed your way down from his mouth to his chest.

You reached your hands up into his hair as you bit at his collarbones, leaving them covered in black and purple hickeys. Clyde let out a low groan, pressing himself against you. You could feel him through his jeans and smirked as you gave his hair a gentle tug, prompting him to lean his head back as you attacked his neck. He stumbled back and fell into the chair as you stood in front of him between his legs and dragged your nails down his chest. You leaned in to kiss him again when there was a knocking on the office door.

You and Clyde both snapped your heads up when the knob started turning and you bolted, pulling the door open just enough that you could see who had knocked. It was Joe. You gave a low growl, wishing you hadn't been interrupted. You would have had Clyde begging on his knees if you'd just had a few more minutes. You looked up at the taller man as he wrung his hands together.

"What?" You snapped. Joe tried to peer around the door but you only closed it a little further. Joe looked down at you with a curious look.

"Bar staff's pretty swamped, and Max won't let anybody else make his drink." Joe explained.

"Alright let me finish up with him and I'll be right there." Joe nodded and let you shut the door. You turned around to see Clyde watching you carefully as you sauntered back over to where he sat, leaning down so he could feel your warm breath tickle his cheeks as you spoke.

"Where were we?" You asked. Clyde's breath caught in his throat as he tried to lean up to kiss you. You pulled your head back with a smirk as he fell back with a slight pout on his perfect swollen lips. You tugged his hair back once again and leaned in to press kisses just below his ear, reaching your other hand down and palming him through his jeans. He let out a gasp, his hands flying to your sides as he dug his fingers into your skin.

You suddenly stood straight, pulling your hands away from him and his hands off your sides. You straightened your shirt cuffs as you walked to your office door, opening the door and gesturing out into the main room. Clyde tilted his head slightly.

"We're a little understaffed tonight so, why don't you just go." You said smoothly. Clyde began re-buttoning his shirt as he stood. He walked over to the door, glancing down at you as you followed him out of your office. His hair was a mess and the occasional hickey on his neck wouldn't be dismiss-able by any means. You walked him to the main entrance before catching his forearm and standing on your toes to whisper into his ear.

"Maybe we can finish that meeting some other time."

[andromeda---galaxy]

routine procedure

Beginning of a three part fic featuring Gabe dealing with appendicitis

Philip sighs happily, sliding his arms around Lukas’s middle. The shower spray cascades over the two of them and Lukas tugs him a little closer, Philip’s toes on top of his.

 “We need to wash the dog,” Lukas says.

 Philip snorts. “She just got a bath two days ago.”

 Lukas runs a hand through Philip’s hair. “She starts stinking like three hours after her bath,” he says. “She’s just a naturally stinky dog.”

 Philip huffs and pulls back a little bit, looking up into Lukas’s eyes. “She shouldn’t! She’s a dainty little girl and she hardly breaks a sweat when we take her out.”

 “How do you know that?” Lukas asks, starting to smile. “You been measuring her sweat levels like a weirdo?”

 Philip pushes at him but Lukas laughs and pulls him closer again. Philip lays his head on Lukas’s shoulder and can hear Izzy growling at one of her toys outside the door. “No. But she shouldn’t stink. And if you gave her baths on the right schedule she’d smell how she should.”

 “Oh, me?” Lukas says. “I’m suddenly the main dog-bath-giver?”

 “She likes your baths better,” Philip says, placing a slippery kiss on Lukas’s collarbone. “She always shakes all over me and doesn’t let me wash her properly.”

 Lukas laughs. “Those sound like excuses.”

“Nope,” Philip says, vaguely hearing his phone ringing in the other room. He listens harder. “Is that my phone?”

 “Think so,” Lukas says.

 Philip sighs. He hopes it isn’t another job. He’s been so slammed lately, from online applications and people calling his number, and he figures he needs to get a go-phone or something so people aren’t blowing up his cell all the time. But he’s a little thrilled at how many people want to hire him, how much they love his work. The good word of mouth about his photos has been out of this world. He smiles, glancing up at Lukas.

 “You think it’s someone else hiring you?” Lukas asks, his hand soothing back and forth on Philip’s waist.

 “Maybe,” Philip says.

 “Can’t blame ‘em,” Lukas says. “Imagine hiring somebody and who’s talented and hot? Fucking jackpot, right here.”

 Philip pushes him a little bit again, grinning. “Let’s finish up in here and I’ll call whoever it is back.”

 “Yes sir,” Lukas says, briefly kissing him on the cheek. “We still using this rose shampoo? Making ourselves smell like a literal greenhouse?”

 Philip shrugs, watching as Lukas bends to pick up the bottle.

 “Can’t be wasteful,” Philip says.

 ~

 His phone rings again when they’re drying themselves off and Lukas clicks his tongue.

 “I’m gonna answer it,” Lukas says, shooting Philip a look. “Pretend I’m your secretary.”

 “Oh God,” Philip laughs, pulling a shirt on as Lukas makes a beeline for his cell. “Don’t you lose me a client!”

 “I’m just gonna talk about your strengths and your perfect hair, you know, important things,” Lukas calls. Philip closes his eyes, shaking his head. “Oh hey, it’s Helen!” Lukas yells.

 “You got it?” Philip asks, pulling on his jeans, the material sticking to the dampness of his legs.

 “Yeah!”

 Philip was planning on calling her tonight after the movie, and he wonders what she’s got to tell him. He hangs the towel up and walks into the bedroom, hearing the tail-end of Lukas’s conversation with her.

 “Okay one second,” Lukas says, slowly, turning around with a strange look on his face. He holds his finger over the receiver.

 “What is it?” Philip asks, his heart beating a little faster.

 “Not sure, she’s…she sounds weird, she just asked to talk to you,” Lukas says.

 Philip takes the phone, his throat going tight. “Hello?” he says.

 “Hey kid,” Helen says, and her voice is shaking a little bit. “Uh, Gabe—we’re in the hospital, Gabe—well���”

 Philip is definitely panicking now and he’s got one arm wrapped around his middle, nails digging into the material of his shirt. Lukas steps closer, an anchoring hand on his elbow. “What is it?” Philip asks, scared to hear the answer.

 “He’s fine,” Helen says, quick. “He just had a little weird pain, couldn’t eat, so we went to emergency care and they figured that he needed his appendix taken out. So that’s, uh—”

 Philip’s eyes dart around. “His appendix?”

 “Yes,” Helen says. “He’s—he’s in surgery now. It all happened really fast, I’m sorry it took me so long to call. Uh, it’s gonna be fine. It’s very routine, Tony had his appendix taken out a year after I met him, so—it’s fine. But it’d be nice, better even if you two could come—uh, I know you have class—”

 “Lukas,” Philip says without thinking, his voice going a little shrill when he looks up. “Gabe is having appendix surgery, could we—”

 “Of course we can go home,” Lukas says, fast, not missing a beat.

 Philip’s stomach dips. “Yeah?”

 “Yeah,” Lukas says, nodding. “I’ll message my teachers right now and contact the car rental place.”

 Philip reaches down and squeezes Lukas’s wrist in silent thanks. “Okay,” he says into the phone. “We’re gonna get there as soon as we can.”

 Lukas walks over to the bed, sitting down and opening up his laptop.

 “You sure?” Helen asks. “I don’t want to—”

 “I’m sure,” Philip says, and panic rings loud in his ears but he tries to stay level. “We’ll get there later tonight, probably…” He trails off, watching Lukas nod.

 “He’s gonna be okay,” Helen says. “I just know it’ll bring up his spirits to see you guys, you can bring Izzy, leave her with Bo and Sarah…by the time you get here everything should be good, we’ll have a room number and you can head over.”

 “Okay,” Philip says, though his mouth is dry and he can feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. “Okay, it’s gonna be fine. It’s gonna—do you want us to bring anything?”

 “Just yourselves,” Helen says. “Thank you, sweetheart. Hopefully we won’t keep you away for too long.”

 “Don’t worry,” Philip says. He’s said that phrase so many times in his life, so many times to his mother that it takes him back for a moment, to a different time, a strain in his heart and fear all over him. But he had to bury it all deep, put on a brave face, because their lives mattered more than his feelings. “Don’t worry,” he says again, feeling dizzy, and it’s like Lukas senses it because he looks up from his computer with concern in his eyes.

 “You either,” Helen says. “You sure you’re okay to come? Seriously, I don’t wanna force you, I shouldn’t have said it so fast, I was just thinking—”

 “No, no—I’m sure, we’re—we’re sure,” Philip says. “I’ll let you know when we’re on our way.”

 “Okay kid,” she says. “Love you.”

 “Love you too,” Philip says. “Tell him we love him when he wakes up.”

 “Will do,” Helen says.

 They both hang up and Philip just stands there for a second. He wets his lips over and over and he’s having trouble focusing. Nothing ever happens to Gabe. Gabe always seems so solid. Philip tries to tell himself this is just his appendix. He’ll be fine.

 But it’s surgery. Lukas went into a coma after surgery.

 “Hey,” Lukas says.

 Philip looks at him sitting there, Izzy by his feet chewing on her ice cream toy, without a care in the world.

 “Uh,” Philip finds himself saying, “you think it’ll be okay with class? Did you—did you e-mail them?”

 “I e-mailed Monday through Wednesday just in case, told them I had an emergency because my father-in-law is in the hospital. It’ll be fine, don’t even worry about that.”

 The words ‘father-in-law’ ground him and Philip absentmindedly starts twisting his engagement ring on his finger. He walks over and sits next to Lukas, bumping their knees together.

 “She sounded worried,” Philip says.

 Lukas leans in and kisses Philip’s shoulder. “I mean, of course she is. I get worried when you get a fucking hangnail. That’s love, baby.”

 Philip snorts, leaning into him.

 “Hey, I don’t think I ever told you this but I had my appendix taken out when I was like, six,” Lukas says.

 Philip narrows his eyes at him. “Really?”

 “Yeah,” Lukas says. “I don’t remember it at all but Dad reminded me back when I was in the hospital.” He clears his throat. They’ve still been having a hard time with the Ryan memories lately. Lukas hasn’t agreed to therapy yet, but he hasn’t gone to beat the shit out of Dour either, so Philip figures he’ll take it for now. But he knows Lukas’s feelings are still simmering under the surface, and Philip wants to make sure they’re addressed. He knows he isn’t really over it all yet either, not by a long shot, but Lukas’s pain is flaring up because of the Dour shit. Philip hates it. He wants to help him. He wants to fix everything, everyone.

 He sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Can we even get a rental car on short notice like this?”

 Lukas starts massaging his shoulder, rubbing his hand up and down Philip’s neck. “Of course we can,” he says.

 “One of us needs to like, own one,” Philip says.

 “Or maybe we just get that side-car for the bike and Izzy can travel in there.”

 Philip splutters, covering his face. He can feel Izzy’s tail thumping on his feet. His worry abates for a minute and he turns to Lukas, cupping his face, admiring him for a moment before he kisses him. Lukas looks at him a little dreamily when they pull apart, and Philp kisses him again.

 “Thank you.”

 “For what?”

 Philip caresses Lukas’s cheek, highly aware of the ring on his finger again. “Just—dropping everything, adapting so well—”

 Lukas shakes his head. “Gabe’s family. They both are. And you, well,” he laughs a little bit and makes a face like he’s gonna say something stupid, but a soft smile sneaks onto his face instead. “You. You’re everything. You know I’d do anything for you.”

 Philip is fucking floored by him. He leans in and kisses him again, deeper this time, feeling Lukas’s arm wind around his waist. He sighs into Lukas’s mouth and then nuzzles against his cheek.

 “He’s gonna be fine, babe,” Lukas says. “It’s just his appendix. It’s perfectly normal. It’s gonna be fine.”

 Philip nods.

 It’s just his appendix.

 Nothing is gonna happen to Gabe.

 He’s gonna be fine.

 He’s gonna be fine.

[wordsdrippinginink]

Have you ever considered MAS [or I'm not picky MarAce, SabAce, MarSab] Cinderella AU?? ♥

“Why do we need a ball?” Ace asks, voice just short of whining as he sprawled over the lounge, arm thrown over his eyes. “I’m perfectly happy marrying Sabo!”

“Because,” Sabo answers calmly. “The council is under the impression that you’ll fall desperately in love with a member of the nobility and be perfectly happy pretending that I never existed.”

Ace peeks at Sabo, “You know that would never happen, right? If anything, I’ll end up making them love you too.”

(The rest is under the cut!)

“I know, but that’s what the council thinks,” Sabo states letting Ace pull him down into his lap. “They can’t stop you from marrying me, not when your mother married a pirate from another country.”

“Mom is pretty badass.”

“Do you know any of the nobles? Or their children?”

Ace hums, glancing over the list that Sabo had in his hands, tapping a name, “Marco. We were close as kids, but his dad went away. He was a merchant that dad fought often, but he never came back and he didn’t come visit me anymore.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to have him invited, I remember you telling me about him. I’m sure he misses you just as much.”

“I wanted to marry him when I was little.”

Sabo laughs, “Then I have to make sure he comes, I want to see if your mother was right when she said you had a type.”

~

“You would think,” Thatch mutters leaning against the back door. “That the old lady would hire some help with how much money your father left.”

Marco snorts, “Why do that when she can use me for free? She’s spending my father’s money faster than the company can make it. Vista was here two days ago to tell her that she can’t access the main accounts anymore. He made sure that she didn’t know that I could still.”

“Yeah, as if you could do anything with the money. She’s got you trapped.”

“I can’t just leave. Not when my father put so much money and time into making this place. This is my home.”

“I know, doesn’t mean that I like how you’re treated,” Thatch says darkly. “When do they wake up?”

“Not until noon. Teach and Weevil were out until late and their mother was out even later. She barely made it back before sun up. The neighbors will be talking about it.”

“That’s her fault. How much money do they have coming in from their parts of the company now, without being able to dip into the funds directly?”

Marco frowns, “Not enough to keep up their life style and Vista’s refusing to let her dip into the money that I get from the company because my father put it in trust for me. So, there’s going to be a decrease in their purchases, but on the down side, I’ll have to deal with them more.”

“Ugh,” Thatch sighs pushing himself away from the door with a sigh. “I have to get going. You gonna be okay? Or do you need some help?”

“I should be fine,” Marco promises. “Thanks.”

Thatch nods, “You can always ask for help, you know. You have friends that want to help you if you need it.”

Marco waves his concerns away, waiting until Thatch’s horse has headed off into the distance before leaning heavily against the table and sighing, feeling the hours of work from the night before and the night before that weighing heavily down on his shoulders.

The chore lists were getting longer and longer and the time to complete them was decreasing. There wasn’t anything for it, he just had to suffer until he was old enough to take all over his father’s business and take the house back from his stepmother.

“Marco,” He turns. “Water for my bath. I’m far to disgusting to sleep.”

“Of course stepmother,” Marco states calmly. “I’ll have it done as soon as possible.”

“Hurry up.”

Marco grabs a bucket from beside his table and hurries to the well, already knowing that he’s going to be running on too little sleep and even less food.

~

“You’ll make sure that Marco gets that, won’t you Sabo? I’ve missed him so much.”

“I have heard all of your stories,” Sabo promises him, grinning as he slips on the jacket he stole from one of the delivery men. “I’ll make sure the other love of your life will come to the party.”

“You’re the love of my life,” Ace says kissing him lightly. “But he’s important to me.”

Sabo laughs, “If that’s possible to have more than one, you know. I can share your heart with someone else, as long as they’re everything that you told me about them.”

“Thank you,” Ace says softly. “For this.”

“You owe me. Big time. That means Koala gets to come to the ball.”

Ace sighs, “Fine. But only this time!”

“You can’t be jealous of Koala if I can’t be jealous of Marco.”

“I loathe you,” Ace smiles. “Thank you, for this. I know it’s not really your job.”

“Well, my job is to make you happy. I’ll be back soon.”

~

Marco blinks at the messenger, feeling like he should know this man is, but pushing it aside as he smiles politely.

“An invitation to the Ball for the Crown Prince,” He says smiling back, the scar around his eye pulling strangely. “One for the family and one for Marco Newgate, from the prince himself.”

“For, for me?” Marco asks before he can stop himself.

The man stops, something strange crossing his face before it blanked again, “You’re Marco Newgate? No offense, sir, you just, you look like help.”

“I’ve been told. Thank you, but tell Ace that I,” Marco thinks that his heart is going to break. “I don’t think I can make it.”

“He specifically requested your presence.”

“What’s taking so long, you lazy boy!”

Marco flinches, “I’m sorry.”

“At least, consider it please? The Crown Prince was very insistent that you come to his ball. He misses you.”

“Boy!”

“I’m sorry. Please, just tell him that I’m sorry.”

He closes the door, leaning heavily against it and shoving his own invitation into his pocket before heading further into the house, pausing outside the door to the lounge before knocking and entering.

“A invitation from the palace,” Marco says bowing as he entered. “I apologize for the time I took, the messenger was asking directions to the next house.”

“An invitation?” Teach asks curiously. “For what?”

“A ball, he said, for the Crown Prince.”

Weevil sighs, “It sounds boring.”

“You idiot boys,” Bakkin snaps. “Don’t you see what this is? The Crown Prince has to marry, this ball will be the perfect time for that to happen. To introduce yourself and make an impression. To be his spouse when he becomes the king!”

Marco bites his tongue as the invitation is ripped from his hands and Bakkin starts to talk about things. About the money they need to use for their clothes and how it will cut into their other expenses, her face dark as she tries to stay inside the budget that they have been reduced to.

“You, boy,” Marco wonders if she ever remembers his name. “Why are you just standing there? Get back to work, it’s not like you could attend.”

“The invitation is for everyone,” Marco says nails biting into the palm of his hand. “I could go to.” The separate one, his very own, burns in his pocket and he wants to go. If only to see Ace again. He had missed him, when Bakkin had told him that he was no longer free to do as he pleased. “If I desired.”

“That’s a laugh,” Teach says rolling his eyes. “You don’t even have something to wear. What are you going to do? Wear those rags to the party? Can you imagine?”

“Oh, your majesty, these are my finest things!” Weevil laughs. “You would be the laughing stock of the whole town.”

Marco bites his tongue and bows, “I have chores to complete.”

“Boy,” He pauses. “I have a list of chores for you to complete, by tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

~

“Something’s wrong,” Sabo states when he returns to the palace, Ace all but begging to hear how Marco was doing. “He was dressed like the lowest servant and the woman in the house called him boy.”

“Bakkin, Edward Newgate’s second wife. He, he married her because there was concern that her second son might be his, but I doubt that he is, dad does to and dad knows Edward best.”

Sabo nods, “I know a bit about Bakkin Newgate. Rude, inclined to throw money around like water, the kind of person that my parents loved to be involved with.”

“I knew that Marco wouldn’t have stopped visiting me without a reason!”

“But that means he might not be able to come.”

Ace frowns, eyes narrowing, “He has to come, please. What can I do?”

“There’s a story from my home land,” Sabo says grinning. “About a girl that has a fairy godmother who helps her attend a series of parties and how it ends with her falling in love with and marrying a King. There’s no fairy godmothers, but I talked to some of his friends, we should be able to do something to help him.”

“I want him here, you saw him. How did he look?”

“Tired. Tired and overworked,” Sabo answers finally. “It’s not, I don’t think things have been going well for him since you last saw each other. But,” He smiles. “I can see why you would fall in love with him.”

“You can?”

“That doesn’t mean that I’m going to fall in love with him.”

~

“So,” Marco blinks at the man from the day before leaning against the back door. “I’m Sabo.”

“Marco Newgate.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sabo smiles. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to the ball? The prince says that I should beg you to come. He’ll do anything.”

Marco shakes his head, remembering the letter beseeching him to come. All but begging for Marco to come to the ball, even if he came in rags or only for a moment, because Ace just wanted to see he was alright.

“Why?”

“I don’t have the time,” Marco starts.

“I could help? And one of your friends said that he would help too.”

“What?”

Thatch waves, “We can handle your chores for a few hours. Go and buy clothes and shit for the ball, Marco. You want to go, don’t you?”

“You think, do you think that Ace wants me to go?”

Sabo tilts his head, “The prince is worried that you won’t come and he’s been begging his personal aid to do anything he can to make sure you come and see him. If only for a moment.”

“Alright,” Marco sighs. “Okay. I’ll, I’ll go and get things. Bakkin and her sons are out and they will be until noon, I should be back before then.”

“Take my horse,” Thatch says grinning. “Go!” He waits the long moments before turning to Sabo. “You are suspicious, you know that right?”

Sabo grins, “That’s fine. As long as Marco attends the ball then I don’t mind.”

“You are really weird.”

~

Vista grins when Marco appears in his office, already handing him the money that the Prince’s note had asked him to pull out for Marco, “I hear you are going to a ball.”

“Apparently Ace wants me to be there.”

“I hear Jozu got in some interesting items, if that’s the sort of thing that you are into.”

“Thank you.”

~

Ace paces checking his clothes as Sabo smiles, slumped in the chair nearby, watching him, “Marco is coming, isn’t he?”

“Hm,” Sabo agrees. “I can understand why you love him so much.”

“You can?” Ace grins. “Are you falling in love with him too?”

“Maybe.”

“Come to the ball with me too. We can both dance with Marco. See him.”

“I don’t have,” Ace gestures at his wardrobe grinning. “You didn’t.”

“You were so busy making sure that Marco came that I had to have you there too!”

Sabo grins, “I did want to dance with Marco.”

“Then come on.”

“Fine. Fine. But only because you insisted.”

~

“Stay,” Ace says softly, his hand soft on Marco’s arm, eyes wide and hopeful behind his mask. “With us?”

“And that’s okay,” Marco asks trying to look at them both. “Staying with you?”

“We, both of us, want you to stay,” Sabo says smiling.

“My home-”

“We can get it back from Bakkin. We can get all of your things back and you can go home and visit any time.”

Marco swallows heavily, “Are, what are they going to say? The three of us?”

“Nothing,” Ace says finally stepping forward. “No one can say anything because you are mine. You’re both mine and I want to keep, nothing will stop me from that. Unless you say no?”

“I want to stay.”

Ace nods, “Than stay. Stay here, with us. Please.”

“We both want you to stay,” Sabo adds.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stay.”

[chaotic-cinnamonroll95]

The Alice Killer

Chapter One

The last night of the Cinderella play had been a huge success for Elizabeth Banks, smart, well rehearsed and just only twenty-one. Her whole life was ahead of her and she was not only a lead actress on Broadway but an A-plus student at NYCU. She had countless fans and reporters constantly asked her about her success which she only accredited to her small town school where she fell in love with the art of theater. As the curtain closed on her final show of the season Elizabeth walked to the stage door along with the other actors of the play so they could take their final bow. Unbeknownst to Elizabeth, someone was watching and this person had plans that would ultimately be curtains for the young and beautiful Elizabeth Banks.

After her final bow, Elizabeth returned to her dressing room only to be greeted by her manager Ethan Kelly.

“There’s my star!”

“Hey Ethan, did you enjoy the show?”

“My dear it was beautiful and you brought the house down. As your manager, I must say this show was one of your best nights.” He wrapped his arms around Elizabeth holding her close.

“So you really, really enjoyed it?” Elizabeth asked as she was squeezed into Ethan’s embrace.

“My dear you were perfect, but now that the season is over what are your plans now?”

“Mostly focus on my school work, finals are coming up and then I’m going to be heading back home to spend some time with my family. I miss them, and I just want to see them before I audition for another play.”

“I respect that Lizzie you know I do, but what about you, you haven't gone out and done anything crazy? You are twenty-one go have fun with the cast tonight you deserve it.” Elizabeth walked over to her vanity and started to wipe away all the stage makeup and reached for her small black and white duffle that held her clothes.

“I might just go grab a cup of coffee and head back to my apartment, I do have finals to worry about so I can’t get too crazy. “ Elizabeth laughed. Ethan nodded as he excused himself from the room so Elizabeth could get ready and head home. He had done this plenty of times before but tonight he just seemed more hesitant to leave her alone. So he knocked on the door,

“Elizabeth, are you going to be alright if I leave?”

“Ethan I’m just taking a cab home after I grab some coffee, I’ll be fine!” she yelled as she wiggled into her skinny jeans.

“Okay then..well have a good night and text me when you get home.”

“You got it!” She quickly tossed on a dark blue sweater and her blue suede boots as she packed the remainder of her belongings there was a knock on the door. She paused, maybe it was just one of the stagehands making their rounds. Then came another wrap on the door and within an instant, Elizabeth’s heart began to pound in her ears. Maybe if she stayed quiet no one would bother her, but much to her wishes the knocking continued. With shaky hands, she reached for the broom handle that rested against the wall and slowly approached the door.

“Yes, who is it?” Elizabeth was cautious, nobody should be here right now, in fact, most of the cast already left to go have boos and party.

“Just a fan who enjoyed your performance this evening.” the voice replied. There was something vague but charming about the man's voice. British maybe, Elizabeth was unsure as she held on to the broom handle. She went over her options, maybe it would be best to just tell the man to leave or maybe she could open the door to see what he wants. Elizabeth pondered over her options but was rudely interrupted by his voice once more.

“Please love, I won’t bite.’ he said with a small smile in his voice, “I just want to congratulate you on a beautiful job tonight.” Elizabeth knew it would be rude to send him away now so with a deep breath she opened the door her blonde curls falling to the side.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you, I just wanted to give you these roses.” He was 6’2 with blue eyes and dark brown hair that was perfectly styled. He wore a well-tailored suit with a tie that corresponded with his eyes and his smile was enough to take a women’s breath away.

“These are exquisite sir, thank you. But I’m sorry to say that only cast and crew can be back here. Sorry for being a killjoy but it’s just company policy, you know lawsuits and all that.” Elizabeth said with a flourish and a smile that only made the man chuckle.

“Well I wouldn't want to get you in any trouble, my dear, I just wanted to ask you what your plans were for the rest of the evening?”

“That is none of your concern sir.” She said looking up at him. His height made her feel like at any second he could overpower her but she just had to play it cool.

“Enough of the sir nonsense, call me David, David Winters.”

“David, I really should go, I have a busy schedule.”

“Let me walk you out then, wouldn't want a beautiful young lady like yourself out on the street all alone.” He was persistent and Elizabeth was beginning to feel worried but maybe that was just the butterflies in her stomach.

“Well, I guess a chaperone could be useful.”

“Excellent!” Elizabeth placed the roses on her makeup table and grabbed her bag.

“Where are you headed?” David asked as he leaned against the stage door.

“I have finals tomorrow so just going to grab some coffee and head home.” She said as she locked the door and walked over to David.

“This was the last show of the season, why not go out and celebrate?”

“Finals are more important than a party in my humble opinion.” David threw his head back in laughter.

“So I have fallen for the beautiful geek..the guys at Cheshire’s Den won’t believe me.”

“The Cheshire’s Den?”

“It’s a hookah bar and pub, mostly hipsters and party goers attend, but don’t worry I’m not going to take you there let's just get some coffee down the road.” David started to walk ahead of her letting Elizabeth process the information. “You can’t always be such a goody-goody, you need to let loose and have some fun!” she told herself. This was one of the craziest things she had ever done but she just wanted to feel the thrill of being the bad girl for once.

“David, I change my mind, I want to go to the Cheshire’s Den.”

“Really love, alright! Then follow me, my lady.” He offered her his arm and she took it without a second thought. They walked out onto the streets of New York City, the winter air crisp and fresh.

“My car is just down the block.” When they made it to his car Elizabeth couldn’t help but stare, a black two-door Jaguar, a real classic.

“Wow..this is gorgeous.” David chuckled wrapping his arm around Elizabeth's waist.

“It was my father's car but he gave it to me as a graduation gift a few years back. Now  I’m guessing by that expression you know a beautiful car when you see it?”

“I love old cars! My father worked as a mechanic, His main priority was restoring vintage vehicles. Most of my childhood was spent in the garage working with him and it was never a dull moment. He taught me everything I know.” she said with an innocent grin which in turn he returned with a small chuckle and an arm around her shoulder.

“Then my dear, your carriage awaits.” She climbed into his car and they sped off. The whole ride there was filled with laughter and sweet words when they finally reached their destination the only thing on Elizabeth’s mind was how far was she willing to go. This stranger had come into her life with a bouquet of roses and a charming disposition and yet here she was ready to break all of her rules and just be free.

“Here we are.” He said as they pulled up to the streets curb. David parked the car and got out shutting the door behind him leaving Elizabeth inside. She was excited by the idea of breaking free and once he opened her door she was ready to dive headfirst into a world she never knew. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder giving her a reassuring squeeze as they walked to the door. A woman in a pink striped mini skirt, purple bra, and matching cat ears greeted them.

“Welcome to the Cheshire’s Den my lovelies!” Elizabeth could only stare at the women as her heaving breast bounced as she greeted them.

“Thanks for the warm welcome Amanda. Hey by any chance is Johnny here? I wanted him to make this beauty here his signature Unbirthday.”

“Why of course, just follow the teardrops to the bar! Oh, and what do you think of the costume, pretty cute right?!” Elizabeth started to feel a wave of jealousy as this scantly glad girl flirted with her date..wait, why was she even jealous he asked her out so why was she feeling so mad all of a sudden.

“Isn’t it a little cold for you to be dressed like that?” Elizabeth finally asked. The woman named Amanda could only laugh.

“Sweetie it’s my uniform, but yes I’m freezing my tits off out here but at least Johnny keeps the heat lamps on while I am outside so I don’t turn into a popsicle.” Her green eyes twinkled as she brushed a manicured nail through her platinum waves.

“Isn’t she precious?” David laughed as they all walked inside. Amanda left shortly after to greet the other customers as he and Elizabeth followed the tears to the bar. The music was pounding and all the excitement was starting to make Elizabeth feel faint.

“Hey, is there anywhere quiet I could sit and wait for you?”

“Yea, some tables in the back why, are  you feeling okay?”

“Kinda, I’ve never been anywhere like this and it’s just starting to get overwhelming that’s all.”

“Do you want to leave?” He looked at her with an agitated face which only made Elizabeth feel like she was going to regret leaving.

“No, I just want to rest, that’s all.” She said with a sincere smile.

“Good, I was worried I was going to lose you.” he leads her to the back of the bar and sat down.

“You just wait here, I’ll be right back.” he left amongst the crowd leaving Elizabeth alone at the table. The smoke and music were like a hypnotic trip and in the back of her mind, Elizabeth felt her conscious screaming run. When he returned to the table he had two glasses filled with a pink, green and blue liquid.

“What is this?”

“This my dear is the famous Unbirthday, give it a try!” and try she did. It tasted like the sweetest candy and before she knew it she had drunk the entire glass.

Time passed and soon the effects of the unbirthday were beginning to hit Elizabeth hard.

“I don’t feel so good..” she slurred as her body collapsed to the floor. Her vision had grown hazy and she couldn't find David anywhere.

Elizabeth’s body was carried out the back door into the brisk winter air her body was conscious of the movement as she was placed into the back of a car in a box.

“Silly girl, honestly you really shouldn’t leave with strangers. But don’t worry you’re safe with me. You’re going to be my next star, my dear Alice.”