#Taking away the collar pins ^^; were too flashy

[lostinwildflowers]

YO (idk if I can do two together like this but) number 17 from the gestures prompt matches SO WELL with the first line from the dialogue list ("Hold on, let me fix this for you." ) LIKE OMG. IMAGINE THAT WITH HAWKS. IM DEAD ALREADY.

Smudged

Keigo "Hawks" Takami x Reader

Summary: A dressed up night is unusual for you and Hawks, yet all you want to do is go home and relax together.

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: Suggestive themes but nothing NSFW, Hawks being a flirty shit, fluff<3

A/N: Just for my special Nem Nem! I've actually been on an MHA kick so this works in my favor. Enjoy some ~shmexy~ Hawks! -Birch<3

Prompts used:

1. "Hold on, let me fix this for you."

17. Standing still as your lover rubs smudged lipstick/lipstick stains off of your skin, catching them off guard by pressing a kiss against their fingertip.

Waiters and waitresses rushed by your table, platters of fine wines and cheese charcuterie boards bustling past. For one of the fanciest and highest-rated restaurants in Japan, you somehow felt uncomfortable.

Your husband, Keigo, sat across from you at your premier seating arrangement. Your view was gorgeous, you couldn't deny it.

It was a red brick rooftop overlooking the city below, with the sun setting across the skyscrapers, painting them in soft shades of lavender and baby blue just as the sun was sinking.

The city below you was alive, it was Friday night after all. Horns honked on the roadways below, everyone rushing around to meet up with friends or get home to watch the newest episode of their favorite show.

The best view was the one sitting across from you- Keigo. Leaning back in his chair, he seemed completely unbothered by the looks the two of you were getting.

It wasn't hard to see why he was the best sight around. His blonde curls were soft and smoothed out of his face, just a stray curl falling out of place to lay on his forehead.

His hair was longer than usual, but you didn't seem to mind. You preferred to run your fingers through the feathery pieces when they were longer, as it gave you a way to draw him close to you.

Keigo's skin was clear and ever so slightly dewy from the heat of the night, the bastard. Paired with his golden gaze and dark, thick lashes, he was glowing.

The part that seemed to have you bewitched was the white button-down covering his torso. It was a plain, white dress shirt, yes, but Keigo made it look like it should have been on a runway.

The sleeves were rolled up neatly to his elbows, showing off his strong and thick forearms. To fancy up his outfit, he even wore his newest watch, the silver glinting with the rays of the sun.

As if that wasn't enough, a few bands of silver covered his fingers, the rings enhancing the length and thickness of the digits, which you had to keep steering your mind away from.

Keigo seemed to be on a roll trying to distract you because in addition to his arms and hands looking inviting, the top two buttons were undone around his collar. His defined clavicle poked through, the necklace with your initial hanging around his neck making your heart flutter every time you looked at it.

To top it all off, well-fitting black slacks and dress shoes pulled the whole look together. And he had the audacity to sit across from you and not even realize he was a heaven-sent angel.

"Hey love," his voice rips you out of your trance, "I'm thinking I either want the grilled chicken salad or the pork shogayaki. What do you think?"

His eyes flash up to meet yours innocently, his golden gaze genuine as he gauged your reaction. He gets distracted looking at you though.

There you are, looking shy and uncomfortable, yet breathtakingly beautiful. Your hair was pinned up on your head, leaving your neck accessible to the air to stay cool.

Small bits and pieces of jewelry donned your ears, wrists, and neck, but nothing too flashy. Even though Keigo promised to take you to the fanciest place in Japan, you didn't feel like standing out.

A black dress was your first choice, the cut tight around your waist but flowed out around your hips, the fabric perfect for getting twirled around the dance floor.

Keigo's favorite part about your look? The deep burgundy lipstick that glimmered almost too much on your lips. They just looked so kissable, so bite-able, that he was completely distracted from ordering.

You look back at your husband, giving him an uncertain smile before mumbling, "Oh, that all sounds lovely, but..." You trail off as another set of waiters hustle by, and you scooch toward Keigo to avoid them.

His hand immediately comes up to rest on the back of your chair, his gaze following the wait staff to ensure none of them touched you by accident.

When the coast is clear and he turns back to you, your face still holds a hint of nervousness. He smiles at you softly and asks, "Spit it out, love."

You close your eyes and huff before picking up his golden gaze and murmuring, "I kind of just want to go home."

Before he can say anything, you wave your hands in front of you and protest, "And it's not because dinner isn't going to be good or I don't enjoy the view, or that I don't appreciate you bringing me to this really fancy-" "Y/n/n," he cuts you off.

He gives you a wide and cheeky grin as he replies, "Doll, I was waiting to see how long it took you to break." Your mouth falls open in shock as you playfully swat at him, but he chuckles and catches your failed attempt.

Instead, he clasps your wrist and hauls you to your feet, walking you around the tables to the edge of the restaurant. His wings poof out behind him, and he releases your hand to step up onto the edge of the roof.

Then, Keigo turns around to face you, well aware of the gazes of everyone around you glued to his spectacle. He grins wickedly before offering you his hand and stating, "My lady?"

You roll your eyes as you take his hand, and just like that, you are whisked off into the sunset. You can't help the laugh that falls from your lips as he wraps his arms around you, the wind tugging at your clothes and hair.

Keigo tries flying as smoothly as he can to get you home comfortably, but he also enjoys the time he can have you wrapped up in his arms without a care in the world.

The second you land on your specialized balcony after your short flight, he sets you down gently, wrapping his arms around your waist. Keigo gazes down at you softly and whispers, "I don't care if we go out to the fanciest place to eat or stay in and order KFC. I just want to see you smile and be happy."

Your hands come up to play with the hair at the base of his neck as you whisper back, "I am happy." He smiles at you gently, leaning in to kiss you before he freezes.

His sharp gaze manages to see a smudge of lipstick at the edge of your bottom lip. Must have bumped something on the flight home.

You pout as he pulls away from you, and it takes everything in him to not lean down and smash his lips against yours at the plushness of your lips. Keigo just chuckles and says, "Hold on baby, let me fix this for you."

Your body stills as one of his hands comes up to cup your cheek gently, his thumb swiping against your bottom lip to clear off the small red stain. Just before he can completely pull his hand away, you ever so slightly lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his finger, painting it red.

You can feel his body pause against yours, and you giggle at the red suddenly dusting Keigo's cheeks. "Good to know I still have that effect on you after all these years," you joke, tightening your grip on his hair.

"Oh love, you have that effect on me every day. And in this dress?" He whistles at the end of his sentence, his gaze flickering up and down to take in your appearance. Keigo's words are flirty, yes, but his eyes are full of love as he leans into you, gently nuzzling your nose against his own.

"Keigo Takami, are you just trying to get in my pants?"

"Y/n Takami, are you always this enchanting?"

"C'mon bird brain, show me how you'd like to clean up this lipstick."

"I can think of a few different positions~"

[multiversxwhore]

☾☾☾Hello! Hope you enjoy what you’re about to read, I would appreciate it if you like, and reblog my work here on tumblr. Please do not share my work anywhere else, and if you see it has been, or someone is claiming the work as their own please tell me. My master list is pinned to my page if you wish to see more! ☽☽☽

a/n: I don’t care what no one says, I love Saweetie, and I love her chill vibe.

Word count: 2k

Chapter 5

Cameron wakes up every morning at 7 am, takes her time in a steaming hot shower, and after she’s gotten dressed, moves on to breakfast. It’s always something small, she doesn’t like to overload herself with food before a workout. A large cup of coffee with pumpkin spice flavoring, and vanilla creamer. Then she has a bowl of mixed berries with coconut water, and a half of a toasted bagel with avocado. Right before she could get started on any of her food, her phone rang, an unknown number across the screen.

“Who is this?” She jumped right to the point, the man on the other end chuckled, and sighed heavily.

“Are you always this rude Cam?” Angelo’s deep voice came from the other end, her movements froze, but her voice remained even.

“Yes, especially in the mornings. I have a routine, and you’re cutting into my time Angelo.” Cam didn’t particularly like being interrupted, in fact she hated it, but she promised Patrick she’d play nice.

“You didn’t forget about us having breakfast this morning did you? Since you’re so…organized, it seems unlike you. Little Ms. Perfect.” He teased, on the other end of the phone Angelo bit on his lip to keep from laughing. It’s entirely too easy to push Cameron’s buttons, it wasn’t his intention to insert himself into Patrick’s life like this at first. That night at Marcus’ house, she had this fire in her eyes that Angelo hadn’t seen in a woman in a long time.

“No, I didn’t forget, I’m getting ready.” She lied, truth was, she hoped he forgot about their meetup.

“Of course you are, I’ll be picking you up in a little bit, and don’t make me wait, Cameron.” She didn’t get a chance to reply because he had hung up the phone in her face, leaving Cameron to sulk for a moment. She finished off her coffee, and threw the rest of the food away clearing the kitchen.

Angelo had been sitting outside her house for at least 30 minutes before he even called Cameron on the phone. He took the time to look around, it’s your typical lively New York vibe. At 8am in the morning people are up and down the sidewalk, loud phone conversations, people walking their dogs, and hailing down cabs. A one bedroom home is exactly what he’d expect of Cameron, from what he’s observed, she’s only concerned with herself. He’s never seen anyone come in and out of her apartment, just her. All her personal calls are made to Meadow, but that’s usually because Meadow is the one calling.

The corners of his lips curled upward as he watched Cameron sashay her way to his vehicle. Her skin flawlessly glowing in the sun. Her plump, luscious lips covered in a layer of sparkly clear glitter. Angelo clinched his jaw as his eyes made their way down her body; the way she walks makes her large breast bounce in time with the rhythm of her hips. If he were a dog, Angelo would be drooling, and panting right now. He was already halfway out the car, and making his way to the passenger door to open it for her.

“Morning.” Cameron greeted reluctantly, her lips pressed together, she’s too prideful to admit how handsome Angelo looks right now. Her sharp eyes noticed the subtle change in hair length, as well as the hair on his top lip is neatly trimmed to perfection. His outfit is more casual than when she last saw him in the office, in fact she’s only ever seen him in suits. Today he’s wearing a rounded collar, short sleeve black tee, with dark jeans, and nikes. His watch looks expensive, yet simple, Angelo isn’t the flashy type. The polar opposite of Patrick.

“How’s your morning going? I figured you were an early bird.” He pulls away from the curb, and starts in the direction to the restaurant. Out the corner of his eye he watched Cameron fold her arms, that same unimpressed expression on her face. It makes it hard for him to tell what she’s thinking, he’s come to realize, if Cameron wanted to voice her opinion she absolutely would.

“It’s fine, I keep a strict schedule I like to stick by.” She kept it short, not giving much information. Angelo sighed out loud, he chuckled lightly.

“You know, there’s no need to be so mean Cameron.” He flashed her a wide grin, she did a double take at how youthful his face looked. Suddenly he morphed into a 13 year old boy, his eyes brightened up, and gleamed in the sunlight.

Kill them with kindness as they say. He thinks to himself, she doesn’t know how to find off people that are being genuinely nice to her.

“Whatever, next time email me an itinerary.” She huffed and plopped back in her seat, pretending to check her nails, Cameron tried to think of a way to break whatever act Angelo is putting on. If he’s anything like Patrick, there’s only a matter of time before the mask slips.

“This isn’t a business meeting Cam, while we will conduct some business, that’s not the main focus. This is a brunch date.” Though the cheshire grin on his face lessened to a small smirk, the corners of his lips only slightly turned upwards, yet the excitement in his eyes remained.

“I don’t want to date you.” She rebuttal, internally rolling her eyes at the lane response, it annoyed her how patient he is.

“That’s too bad princess, now if you wanna do this the hard way…I could just call Patrick—

“Snitching is for lame niggas and light skins Angelo.” Cameron quickly cut him off, she turned half way in her seat to get a full view of him.

“So you’ll behave?” His voice lowered, and his tone teasing, of course she’ll behave because the last thing she wants is to be punished by Patrick. Last time he spanked her for damn near an hour, she couldn’t sit down at work all day after that.

“Fine.” She huffed, this is not how she imagined this going in her head.

“You have to say it. Say that you’ll be a good girl today.”

“You’ve lost your fucking mind.” She scuffed, rolling her eyes, and facing forward again.

Angelo parts his lips to speak, decides against it, and proceeds to pull his phone back out. Cameron’s eyes could make out the bringing of the caller ID, out of fear she snatched the phone from Angelo. Just as Patrick answered, she instantly hung up, and tucked the phone between her thighs.

Angelo busted out in a fit of laughter, he came to a stop at a red light; he took this time to look over at Cameron in the driver's seat. She’s turned away from him, arms folded, and looking out the window.

“So, he has that much power over you huh? I’m gonna have to change that. When I tell you to do something you should be doing it because I told you to, not because of another man’s shadow behind me. Do you see how that’s a problem?” His tone gentle as he spoke in a hushed voice, Cameron slowly turned to him, he greeted her with a warm smile. Somehow this felt wrong to her, why isn’t he chewing her out for being so disrespectful just now? And why did she like the way he spoke to her, and why can’t she look away? For a moment Cameron’s heart clinched, she didn’t like that either.

“I understand, you’re not used to being submissive in this way, and you’re not used to being soft. We can work on it, I’ll give you a pass this time.” He turned back to the steering wheel, and continued driving. Cameron sat dumbfounded by the whole exchange, the range of emotions he just sent her through would take her a while to bounce back from. The rest of the car ride she remained quiet, he didn’t mind it, instead of bombarding her, he just decided to turn on some music instead; he kept the radio low enough so that if she wanted to talk he’d hear her.

It wasn’t till they reached their destination that Cameron finally opened her mouth, her hazel eyes sparked back to life suddenly.

“La Colazione is my favorite, this doesn’t seem like you at all.” She mumbled to herself, lately she’s been staying in, and cooking at home. Patrick has been giving her lectures on the importance of home cooking, despite the fact he himself couldn’t even fry an egg sunny side up.

“I mean, it may be a bit cliche to eat Italian; I can’t refuse the avocado and egg toast. The bread is always fresh, and they have some of the best service I’ve seen.” Angelo smiles softly as he reflects back to when he was a child growing up, he remembers all the stories his nana would tell him, and his brothers of their homeland. Suddenly his mind drifted off into dark territory. The cute smile that had stretched across his face is gone, replaced by this far away look in his eyes; Cameron is all too familiar with a stare such as that one.

“Are we just going to sit here all day or what?” She snapped back into her prissy attitude, Angelo smiled as he turned to her. Leaning closer to her side of the Jeep, their eyes locking, and for a moment Cameron stopped breathing. His gaze held her so still, she dared not move.

“I’m gonna need this back.” He reached right between her thighs, to his surprise they’re a lot softer than he thought. Her body seemed to be toned, Patrick had mentioned that she works out, yet her body is…lush?

“Gone head, take it.” She purred, his fingers dug deeper, he kept going until his hand was cupping her vagina over the soft fabric of her athletic pants.

“Say you’ll be a good girl for me.” Angelo whispered, his lips tugged into a smug grin, he is enjoying Cameron way more than expected. He could see the inner turmoil in her hazel eyes, a part of her was curious to see what being submissive would be like. Another part of her still wasn’t sure if she could trust Angelo, but if Patrick trusted him then she guessed it was okay.

He caressed her teasingly over the layer of cotton, Cameron’s lips parted, a barely audible moan slipped from out of her mouth. Her eyelids suddenly feeling heavy as she fought to keep them open, Angelo held his breath savoring this facial expression. He had a feeling he’d have to work for this again. He didn’t mind though, this waiting game is one he mastered long ago, and nothing would please him more than to watch Cameron fight for air.

Out of curiosity, she decided to take that leap, this would mean nothing. Just an itch I have to scratch, this is your game Cam, she tried to convince herself, so she allowed mind to relax for this moment.

“I’ll be a good girl.” She breathed out, though her eyes were closed, Cameron could hear the light chuckle from his lips. Surprisingly though, she didn’t feel defeated, or embarrassed like she thought she would.

“That’s a good kitty, see, was that so hard?” Quicky Angelo snatched the phone from between her thighs, and hopped out of the Mercedes. He lightly jogged around to the other side and opened the door for her.

Grabbing her hand, Angelo helped her out of the truck, he took his time to look her over. From head to toe, he didn’t wanna miss an inch of her profile while they were so close together. The circular Gucci shades she had on did nothing to hide the curious expression on her face. Waiting for more are you? To his defense he tried hard to keep the arrogant smile that threatened to spread across his lips.

To bad you were being a brat earlier, maybe you would have gotten more. Angelo, and Cameron walked through the parking lot to the restaurant doors in silence. A few times she looked at him to see if he was looking, he wasn’t, but instead his eyes sight is straight ahead.

“Reservation for Grecko.” He smiled at the waiter, this smile was different, and though it lit up his eyes like before, it didn’t have the same effect. The young woman's body went erect as she shook her head in reasonse.

“Oh my gosh, Mr. Grecko, it’s so lovely to finally meet you sir.” She gushed, he kindly took her hand, and enveloped it in his large ones.

“Grazie. Piacere di conoscerti, troppo bella.” Angelo’s accent is thick, and his voice deep, making him sound like an old Italian man. The young woman nearly tripped over herself trying to get from behind the counter to show them to their table.

Can you speak Italian on the pussy daddy? The pit of Cameron’s stomach tingled with the sensation of fluttering wings, she hated it, and she fought against herself. Saying that what she was feeling is only because she hasn’t had sex in a week, and a half.

“H–here you are sir, someone should be with you shortly.” Her voice cracked midway, she scurried away embarrassed by the mishap. Angelo carried on like normal looking over the menu. I bet Cameron would like mimosas, he thinks to himself, he looked up to see her already staring at him. She seems to be more confused than before.

“What are you some sort of celebrity?” Despite her own curiosity, her tone came off as chill, and uninterested.

Angelo let out a deep bellowing laugh, some people turned to see where the commotion came from, and once they realized who it was, they began to take pictures. “No darling, I own the restaurant.”

Well this is a plot twist from hell, remain cool Cameron. “How interesting, chef by day, mobster by night.” Her eyes remained on her nails, taking interest in the intricate designs and jewels.

“But that’s what you like isn’t it? A little mystery, a man that isn’t so easy to read?” He leaned forward, elbows on the table, and his head tilted downward.

“Is that what you think?” Cameron’s interest peeking, she crossed her leg over the other, an effort to keep her hormones in check. It didn’t work.

“That’s exactly what I think, and you know what else?” He posed, his tongue coming out to swipe across his lips to wet them.

“Tell me.” She purred, the huskiness of her voice sending a chill down Angelo’s spine.

“I think you want a break from all that attitudinal bullshit brat behavior you do all the time with Patrick, and I think you just realized I’m the man you can relax with. Be soft, and shed the skin.” Angelo read her well, she would be lying if she said keeping up with the bad bitch energy wasn’t exhausting. It was hard wired into her tho, it’s not like it’s a switch she could flip off, and on.

“Being a bad bitch isn’t an act, Angelo, it’s a full time job.” She argued, folding her arms, and bravely held his intense gaze. One hand rested on his thigh, and the other brought up to his chin.

“What if I gave you a new job?” He offered, he snapped his fingers, and within minutes a server appeared from around the corner, they carefully placed an iPad on the table in front of Angelo. He opened it, tapping the screen a few times, and turned it towards Cameron.

“I’m glad you asked.”

a/n-Translation: Grazie. Piacere di conoscerti, troppo bella. =Thank you. Nice to meet you, too beautiful.

la colazione =Breakfast

[igot-the-juice]

Serenity - Chapter 9

Masterlist

Summary - Vulgaria was a remote country, held its own beauty quite unlike others. Everything about it was peculiar. The village, the castle, the people. In the village sat a rather famed tailor shop, and the recluse that was its head seamstress unknowingly caught the eye of a notorious henchman of the barbaric Baron Bomburst. Accepting a tempting offer, what was supposed to be a simple project began to meddle with her already disorganized family, and little did she know her sanity would soon follow.

Reuben decided to stay with Mary as she continued her work, watching her careful movements in curiosity. The baroness' dress hung on a mannequin, nearly finished as Mary made final adjustments. Finally, she straightened it out and fluffed the skirt just a bit, standing back to admire her handiwork while fiddling with her fingers.

Sheer fabric was used for the arms, collar bone area and back. Ruffled fabric lined the shoulders, trailing around the back of the neck. The majority of it was a silver color, not too flashy yet still stuck out in a crowd. It held purple accents, of course, in representation of the Vulgarian colors.

"Do you think she'll like it?" Mary questioned anxiously, glancing at Reuben.

"I think you know my answer."

"'Of course, Miss Mary, she'll love it!'" She mocked him, making sure to flail her arms dramatically as she made her way over to her sketchbook to work on the design for the Baron.

"Well, you're not wrong, Miss Mary." He wiggled a finger behind her ear making her curl away from him and he smirked. "I'll be off to make my rounds, get out of your hair." Mary shot him a look as he made his way to the door. "I'm not sure when I'll be back, but I've told the maid to make sure you eat." Reuben eyed her before shutting the door behind him. Mary rolled her eyes with a bashful smile, sketching away.

She paid no mind to the time, naturally. There were no windows in the room and she was delved too deep into her work to really care to check. Emilia was her only clock. Mary did grow more aware after lunch, knowing she had to prepare herself for dinner.

A knock sounded softly from the door and was cracked open.

"Miss?" Mary whipped her head towards the maid with a nervous expression.

"Time already?" She received a sympathetic smile.

"I'm afraid so." Mary sighed, finding a stopping point in her work to follow her to Reuben's quarters. Her stomach sank at the sight of a new dress that lay across the bed.

"It gets tiring wearing more than one dress a day, no?" She questioned Emilia as she began undoing her dress, taking a deep breath within the short moment of freedom.

"I certainly would think so. At least you're not the one tying and untying all of them." Mary nodded in agreement, slipping out of the dress and into the more elegant one that Emilia held for her. "Your head seems to be healing well." The maid felt her tense slightly. "I could try and conceal it if you wish?"

"No, it's fine." Mary mumbled. "Thank you, though."

"My pleasure, Miss." Emilia finished up and undid Mary's hair, running her fingers through it in thought. She sat her down at the vanity, beginning to twist and braid it.

"Have you ever worked closely with the barons?" Now Emilia sighed.

"Once. Quite the experience. I would rather not do it again."

"Are you able to talk about it?" Emilia shook her head.

"I'm afraid I would speak ill of them if I did." She grabbed a few bobby-pins from the desk, beginning to pin up Mary's hair.

"What would happen if you did?"

"Let's just say you wouldn't be seeing me too often." She messed with her hair a bit more to perfect it. "Your curiosity could land you the same fate, Miss." Emilia noticed the woman's skin pale at the thought. Mary swallowed as the maid placed ornaments in her hair, then clipped a necklace around her neck.

"I worry I'll still be underdressed." Emilia chuckled.

"That's what they want." The maid fiddled with the fabric of Mary's dress, in a way soothing the both of them. "That's why everything seems so bland here. Everything except themselves." Mary looked up at Emilia with an unreadable expression. "Come, now." She patted her shoulders and the woman stood up. "I'm sure the catcher is waiting."

The two of them stepped into the hall and, sure enough, Reuben was making his way towards them. Emilia shut the door behind them and curtsied, then left in the opposite direction.

"Beautiful, as always." He complimented with a smirk, holding his arm out to her to which she took bashfully. As they ventured through the halls he could feel her hold grow more tense, anxious. He could almost feel her aggressive pulse through her hands. "You'll be alright. Remember what I told you."

"Will you be staying?" Mary nearly whispered, moving in closer to Reuben. He felt his chest swell with what almost felt like pride knowing she trusted him enough to feel protected, that he was a source of comfort for her. Then again, he was essentially all she had left to hold on to.

"He asked me personally, so I would assume so, yes. Let alone the fact that he thought you were -" He cut himself off, swallowing. "That you are my lady." Mary had to bite her lip to keep herself from smiling. He began to smile himself when her grip loosened a bit in comfort. Mary's eyes grew curious when they approached a set of glass doors. Reuben held the door open for her and they stepped out into what she assumed was a garden.

It was a decent size, though not incredibly large. It was vibrant compared to the dull interior of the castle, but it was a welcome change. Colorful flowers bloomed wherever she looked, a variety of floral smells pleasantly filling her nose. The golden rays of the setting sun rested on the area, creating an even more alluring scene.

Reuben led her down a few steps, guiding her further into the garden as an awed grin spread across her face. It was calming enough to make her forget what she was dreading in the first place, but then a small opening brought her back to reality.

A medium-sized glass table sat in the center, a set of tasteful chairs sat around it. A larger bottle of wine accompanied by glasses sat upon it, already opened and being drunk by the Baron. The Baroness, however, waited patiently as she looked around at the garden. There was a glint in her eyes, however, when she spotted the two of them entering the court and smiled.

"Bombie?" She nudged her husband and he shot up, boisterously cheering. Mary curtsied while Reuben bowed, as per usual.

"No, no, no! Have a seat, none of that!" He exclaimed happily. Reuben pulled a chair out next to the baroness for Mary before seating himself next to her. She looked over at Mary and offered a warm smile, and she gave a more shy one in return. "Well," The Baron drawled as he leaned in. "How is our seamstress settling in? Well, I hope?"

"Very well, your excellency. I couldn't be more thankful for your hospitality."

"Ah, but it's just an eye for an eye! You're helping us, and as long as you do, you will be a welcome guest here." Servers arrived, pouring wine into their glasses and setting plates with silverware in front of them.

"How is your project coming along, Miss Elise?" The Baroness spoke up, sipping on her wine as she turned towards Mary in keen interest.

"It couldn't be any better, your majesty. I actually finished your dress just this morning." The Baroness gasped in excitement, clapping her hands together.

"That was quite quick! Efficient, isn't she, Bombie?" The man in question just chuckled with a nod.

"Fast, yes. But quality is what I am personally looking for."

"You couldn't ask for a finer dress, your excellency." Reuben piped in to support Mary, and it seemed to boost the Baron's confidence in her work. The maids returned with their dinner, laying trays and bowls in front of them with what seemed like enough food for the whole village to Mary.

She glanced around, unsure of their customs and courtesies when it came to dining. She watched the others begin to plate once the Baron began and followed suit, being cautious with how much food she took, and rather eating with her stomach instead of her eyes. Mary had to hold in her already obvious satisfaction as she took her first bite, the food warm and freshly cooked.

They all made small talk throughout the meal, whether it was lighthearted joking or simple questions. She wasn't quite sure what to think of them. She'd heard awful things from the villagers, and then Emilia, yet Reuben seemed to think so highly of them. He always spoke of them with utmost respect, save for a snide remark every now and then, but it happens with everyone. She just wasn't sure if it was out of fear or genuine admiration.

"When should we expect to see your work?" The Baroness curiously asked once they all began to settle from the meal, though Bomburst continued to nibble here and there.

"I've just started on his excellency's, so I would say the day after the next."

"Well, I'm thrilled to have a fresh mind at work. And one with unique talent, I've heard." The Baroness glanced over at Reuben, and in turn Mary looked over at him as well. He quirked a brow at her and she gave a tight lipped smile.

"You've built it up so much, I better not be disappointed when I see it!" The Baron suddenly called out. Mary's skin turned to paper, but she continued with her pleasant facade for appearances. She felt Reuben sneak a hand over hers from under the table and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"I certainly have no doubts about your talent. If the Child Catcher says your work is a sight to behold, then I trust his opinion." Mary covered his own hand with her other and color gradually returned to her face.

"I suppose you are right, my dear." Bomburst begrudgingly agreed. "He's been with us for many years, you know." He directed at Mary. "I would say he is my most trusted worker here in Vulgaria. I'd take him over the Chancellor or any of those other aristocrats any day." Though it sounded like a compliment, the Baron truly meant it as more of an insult to those in the castle. "So if I see you mistreat him, or if there's any suspicion of it, I will have your head."

Mary feigned a smile at the Baron.

"I wouldn't dream of it, your excellency." He nodded firmly, then slapped his thighs and stood up.

"Well, I think I'll retire for the night. Many things to take care of. I'll be waiting for our little gift, Miss Elise." He poked fun at the seamstress before abruptly leaving the court. The Baroness soon stood to join him, but turned towards the two of them one last time.

"You're more than welcome to visit the gardens if you wish." She then followed after her husband, an elegant skip in her step that Mary found curious.

She released a breath she didn't know she was holding and sat back in her chair, loosening her posture. Reuben held in an amused chuckle.

"Care for a walk?" The man asked as he stood, offering a gloved hand to her. She collected herself for a few moments before she took hold of it and followed him.

The air was but a gentle breeze that calmed her and she took in her surroundings appreciatively. The village never held such gardens, and it felt as if she had been trapped in the castle forever. She could already see herself visiting quite frequently whether it was by herself or with Reuben.

They reached a railing that looked over the smaller mountain the castle sat on, revealing a grandiose view of the countryside not visible to the village. It held rich shades of green in its hills and other mountains, an occasional structure in the distance. The sun had just reached the horizon and Mary couldn't help but stare.

As Reuben hesitantly slid an arm around her waist and pulled her closer she began to realize how peaceful everything truly was in that moment. It was hazy, as if it wasn't truly reality. Never would she have thought she would end up where she was. Not in the castle, not as a seamstress in that castle, and especially not with the man who practically everybody feared most, second to the Baron himself.

"Reuben?" Mary whispered, fearful of breaking whatever it was that was happening.

"Yes?" She hesitated before answering.

"I'm scared to leave this moment."

"Reasonably so." He looked down at her from where they stood. "But there's much more to come."

[ciggylungz]

Rivals. c2

Rivals: chapter 2

3.2k words

Summary: Y/n and Harry are both CEO’s of their parent’s companies since they inherited the businesses from them, they’ve been rivals since they were kids- now that they’re professional adults how will their rivalry affect them?

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When Friday rolled around Y/n was excited, she’d had a grueling week and been working 18 hours a day for the past 6 days so she was more than thrilled to have a break. Friday’s were usually pretty tame in the office, but just her luck that day a new product design was dumped on her desk and she was tasked with going through the mountains of papers filled with advertisement ideas, promotion pictures and commercial ideas for the new line of clothes and perfumes coming out for the winter season since they were a few weeks away from December. Due to the time crunch she couldn’t really afford to push it off, so she sat at her desk and reviewed everything well past her normal hours.

It was around 7 in the evening when she pulled out the bottle of tequila she kept in her desk for late nights like this, grabbing some ice from the office kitchen and a tonic water from her own mini fridge stashed in the closet in her office. She kept the lighting low, her eyes already feeling the strain of the fluorescent bulbs and fine print papers after hours of reading and she’d like to save the headache for the next morning if possible.

She was a tad bit startled when a knock sounded at her office door, she glanced to the clock seeing it was nearing 10 at night and she knew her assistant left at 8 so she was a surprised by the interruption. Of course, he had to be the one knocking. Even through her mild intoxication she could tell that curly mop of hair as him, his face joining his locks a second later as he waltzes into her office. His lips were tugged in a small smile, hands holding a binder with a plastic bag cradled in his left one.

“Ah! Getting a bit wild in the office tonight? Tequila, you naughty girl!” he gave her a fake disapproving look companied with a stern finger pointing between her and the now half empty bottle. Y/n was always a bit looser after a drink, so she didn’t have her usual bitter comeback loaded she instead felt a strange shot of happiness? Relief? Fondness? She couldn’t put her finger on it. It was too foreign of a feeling to be associated with the man. The woman didn’t understand why she didn’t feel the sense of loathing tugging at her when he spoke, instead she let out a small laugh before flipping him off.

Harry was surprised yet pleased at her reaction. He always loved tipsy y/n, the booze seemed to soften her overly serious nature and make her a bit sweeter. They had some of their best moments together after they had a good buzz going, they’d even had a few instances of cuddling during their alcohol induced haze. He remembers those times fondly; he thinks back on them at times when they’re arguing or in the middle of a grudge holding session. Harry knew she’d never admit it, but deep down behind all her walls she really was a loving, sweet girl. She always had been yet her pride and fear of vulnerability would never let her admit it.

“Hello Harry, any reason you’ve broken into my place of work?” she tipped the glass back to her lips, taking another sip of her cocktail as she waited for his response. She watched him set his things down, shrugging his suit jacket off before rolling his sleeves to his elbows. “Saw you through the window, was workin’ late myself. Thought misery needed a bit of company, and knowing you I knew you’d probably need a designated driver for the night miss tequila.” He lifted his eyebrows in a slight teasing manner, a smile growing on her lips as she giggled quietly, raising her hands in surrender. “bad habits die hard, huh?” she retorted, the smile didn’t drop from her features and Harry loved it. She always had such a beautiful smile. Her plushy lips molded into the shape, her braces did their job giving her a perfect even smile. She had a genuine smile on, he could tell by the way it met her eyes that seemed to brighten when she was in a good mood. She was beautiful. He truly didn’t understand why she had always been so self-conscious. he hated when she’d talk negatively about her looks, weight, body etc. He’d always found her to be a very beautiful woman, and her strong personality amplified that even further.

“That they do miss Y/l/n, they do indeed.” He agreed with a nod, reaching his hand into the previously noted bag pulling out some bread, followed by small slices of cheese and finally a container of grapes. They both shared a love for the particular grouping of food, often having it for snack as kids or packing it when they went on little trips with their friends. It was their thing in a sense. He might amp it up a bit to feel a special bond with her in some way, even if it’s just over a love of the same foods.

“Brought some goodies, might share with you if you’re nice to m’.” Harry made himself comfortable on the couch, toeing off his shoes to leave him in his red dress socks. He liked to have accent colors when he dressed for work, often opting for pocket squares, socks or collar pins to tie together his outfits. He had decided early on just because he was in a work environment didn’t mean he had to dress boring, he worked in fashion for Christ sake so he enjoyed a bit of complimentary accessories. Tastefulness is key though, and he knew how to pick them right.

Y/n polished off her drink, reaching to pour herself another mixing it with a coffee straw she snagged from the kitchen during her original venture out. the woman shrugged slightly, taking a sip with a little smack of her lips at the strongness. She went a bit heavy on the tequila this time around.

“Eh, I’m on a diet anyway.” Her response amused Harry, chuckling lightly before popping a grape into his mouth. He always appreciated someone with a quick wit, and Y/n checked that box for him. He was starting to realize she checked most of his boxes regarding things he found attractive…and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

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It was nearing midnight when Y/n started to show signs she was fully drunk. Her head bobbed slightly, body lightly swaying and Harry saw her eyes flutter every so often. He could read her like a book, he knew she was stressed, tired and wasted just from a single glance. The man found it quite cute, she looked so soft and cute when she was in this state. She radiated that type of energy that made you want to hug her; she wasn’t as guarded and flighty. She looked utterly trashed but relaxed and he didn’t mind the drunkenness if it meant she wasn’t as worked up as usual. She worked hard; the woman deserved to let loose once in a while.

“Hey, think it’s time to head out hmm?” Harry slowly sat up as he spoke, stretching with a few quiet pops of his joints. Y/n lifted her head slightly, giving him doe eyes and a pouty lip. “but I have work to do…” a hiccup sounded after she spoke, making her body jolt slightly. “It’ll be there on Monday, it’s late and you’re wasted love. C’mon time to go, hey don’t get all misty eyed on me it’s okay. Swear it’s alright, everything will get done.”

Harry frowned mid-way through his sentence seeing her eyes gloss with tears. She could be quite an emotional drunk, she bottled up her feelings 24/7 so in any sort of weakened state she began to crack. Harry had seen it only twice in the thirteen years of knowing her. The first time they were 15, she’d just broken up with her boyfriend at the time who was a total douche and he’d spent the six months the pair were together practically bullying the girl and mainly spending the time they had together fucking her. she had gotten absurdly drunk and walked to Harry’s home, sobbing and shaking only to spend the rest of the night cuddled into his chest. it was a toxic relationship and Harry always hated that guy; he gave the boy a few swift kicks to the ribs a few days after the incident. The second was during spring break, the pair were freshly 20 and someone had groped her at the club. Y/n had a panic attack on the bathroom floor and Harry sat with her the whole time, even though the filthy floor was sticky with booze and god knows what else he didn’t even think of leaving her behind.

Y/n took in a deep breath nodding her head slightly, letting Harry put the bottle back in it’s hiding spot and organize her papers before getting himself situated and heading to the car. With some episodes of tripping over her own feet and dizziness he’d managed to get her into the passenger seat, buckling her and joining her in the vehicle.

__

 “Y/n no, you can’t smash the window! Where are your house keys? Put the rock down”

Bargaining with someone who’s intoxicated was never easy, but he was worried about the woman chucking a random stone through her first-floor window instead of just unlocking the door. Drunk minds aren’t the soundest he supposed seeing as he was prying a rouge rock from y/ns hand.

Eventually the keys were located and used to forge entry into her modest town house. Unlike her parent’s y/n wasn’t into flashy mansions and cars. She didn’t see a purpose for such a large home when she was the only resident, plus it creeped her out knowing there would be more room for potential squatters if she had opted for an 8-bedroom 6-bath mansion like her parents had for the 3 of them. She was never someone who fancied showing off expensive thing, she found it tacky and risky because you’re flashing to people that you have expensive things to steal. So, when she purchased a home, she opted for a modest 2-bedroom town house and she really did love it.

Harry was greeted with a subtle scent of cedar and nutmeg, reminding him y/n always opted for fall themed candles and home fragrances. She felt it made places feel cozier and warmer. contrary to her guarded and sometimes cold personality, she always wanted her home to feel welcoming.

Her décor was nice, a large leather couch with some dark red throw pillows along with a fuzzy blanket folded and draped over the back of the furniture. Some arm chairs also filled the Livingroom, art hung evenly on the wall and a tv mounted right in the center of the adjacent wall. A nice area rug and coffee table really finished off the center room, it was an inviting set up and Harry had to resist the urge to sit on the large couch that seemed to be calling to him as he started walking her up the steps.

The bedframe groaned as she flopped herself down on her mattress, a content sigh leaving her lips as the woman kicked off her shoes. “mmmm love my bed, missed it.” The woman placed an affectionate pet to her pillow, Harry laughing slightly at her antics whilst searching her dresser for clothes to change her into. Pinching a pair of sleep shorts and a tshirt before tossing it on the bed making his way into her bathroom so she could change in private.

Once the girl was situated, he reappeared, picking up her dirty clothes and putting them in her hamper for her. everything was going well, they weren’t fighting and she seemed to really be enjoying his presence but because Harrys an idiot he had to ruin it.

“maybe if you weren’t such a raging bitch, I wouldn’t have to come take you home and you’d have a boyfriend who could huh?”

He intended it to be their playful teasing, how they usually pick on each other and make rude comments but it came across harsher than intended. He sounded utterly mean and spiteful, and after Y/n had spent the evening warming up to him and even enjoying his company that felt like a smack in the face. Just when she thought maybe he’d changed or wasn’t so bad he had to make a comment, picking a topic she was already very sensitive about because all her previous relationships were very abusive and put her in the position she was in now of being so guarded and cold she was left to a life of loneliness.

There was a beat of silence, Harry registering his tone and how he’d just switched the atmosphere entirely. There was no sense of playfulness anymore, just hurt and anger. He regretted ever opening his mouth, seeing the woman look away from him with veins visible on her neck from the restraint she was using to hold back her tears. She cursed herself for drinking, it always made her more sensitive and she felt like a fool for not seeing Harry was just waiting for her to become vulnerable so he could strike back even when truly it wasn’t his intention, his actions left her with only that theory to believe.

Y/n cleared her throat and shot him the best glare she could while her eyes burned with tears begging to escape. “You can see yourself out Harry.” The dismissal was curt and quiet, there was no option for bargaining or pleading because she didn’t want to hear anything else he had to say. Harry knew when to pick his battles with her so he knew it was best he left, sighing slightly before leaving the bedroom making sure he locks her front door for her on his way out. he’s never wanted to beat his own ass so bad in his life.

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 As much as Y/n tried to hide it under her cold, blunt exterior- she was extremely insecure and broken inside. She never learned how to express her emotions or hurt. Y/n never had parents there to guide her nor comfort her in her times of need. She’d never had anyone who cared about her to look out for her besides neglectful nannies who left her to her own devices most of her childhood. She was emotionally stunted, and it had made her vulnerable to shitty people her whole life. It led to her having a 17-year-old boyfriend when she was 13 that pressured her into losing her virginity and emotionally abused her the entirety of their year long illegal relationship. It put her in the position of having a revolving door of toxic abusive relationships with cruel boys who treated her poorly, her father was never around so she never had an example of a good man so she resorted to getting attention and validation in whatever form she could even when it was harmful and a façade to use her body and status. The woman was never taught how to handle her emotions and it led to her clawing for control in any way she could, any sort of distraction and turned her to dark, destructive behaviors in her teen years that still haunt her in the form of physical and mental scars now that she’s in her adult years. She’d practically had to raise herself, and now that she’s grown, she’s running the company that stole her parents from her. she can’t tell who she hates more, her parents or herself.

Harrys word seemed to pop the stitches on an internal wound she thought was close to healing. While he was joking, she couldn’t tell. It was said with such a bitter malice it made her skin crawl. Sure, they’ve been mean to each other for 13 years but in her vulnerable state and the knowledge he had of her past his words seemed deliberate and cruel for the sole purpose of hurting her. not a stupid joke like he’d intended.

She couldn’t get it out of her head, she spent the remainder of the weekend nursing her hangover and a wounded soul. Her mind was screaming self-hating words, cruel statements towards herself and pushing her to look for comfort in another person again even when she knew she was vulnerable to falling back into the arms of yet another man who wasn’t good for her but she couldn’t bring herself to care enough about herself to make the best choices for her. she felt like she had something to prove to Harry, herself and the universe that she wasn’t so horrible that no one could stand to be around her even if the person she chose only stuck around to leech off her. it was a stupid mindset, one that’s left her torn to shreds numerus times since her early teenage years but the spiral Harrys verbal bite sent her into had her internally turning back into 14-year-old y/n who just wanted to feel like she mattered. She was setting herself up for pain again, she knew it. But like she stated before, old habits die hard.

and y/n decided she must be a glutton for punishment when her fingers started typing in the familiar number of her ex.

[gallowswhump]

Blue Eyes

The Start of Cirelc's story. In this he is still named blue. This is a look into his joining of the theives guild.

CW: Child Abuse, Child Abandonment, Homelessness, Theft, pickpocketing, broken bones, implied prostitution, starvation, attempted murder, serious injury, swearing, torture

It had always been like this, just barely scraping by on hand outs and sticky fingers. There was no reason for his fate that Blue could think of. Charity had left him barely enough for a slice of bread today, a couple of coppers in the mid week was nothing new. No holy day that would make people feel more charitable. No leftover coin from stocking for the week. Just tried people who had better things on their mind than the poor Aasimar boy begging for rations on the streat. Luckily, around the end of the day that meant lots of people with pockets heavy with coin would be walking from their place of work to their homes. He just needed the right mark.

A dwarf walking to the bar was a clear mark but Blue could already tell the man kept his purse close to his chest, patting it as he walked by the dirty urchin whose heritage is usually enough to make people think he isn’t a thief. A bad mark, okay the next one. A woman showing a little too much of her chest, the marks on her told Blue a different story of how her pockets came to be filled. Bad mark, no targeting the downtrodden even if they might have more. A man with dusty hair, rushing through the market. A bad mark, he knew the man, a coal worker seen carrying around a new baby on the weekends. The evening wound to a close and there was the sinking feeling of hunger setting in and the idea that his belly would go unfilled. There is a spectacle though, people moving out of the way of a group. Normally, a bad mark, people traveling together. The flashy clothes are what makes him take note. The two men to the side are dressed in clean black tunics, humans. The one to the left of their group leader is light skinned, bald. A nasty scar accents his general demeanor as he glowers at people who walk too close. The other one has dark skin, dark curly hair, not common to the area. He looks bored, his eyes lingering from shop entrance to shop entrance like he’s looking for some sort of entertainment. The leader, he is the attention grabber. A heavy large coin purse lies on his hip, that sort of gold was always too good to be true. He’s a tiefling, red skin dressed in very brightly colored flashy robes but Blue can see the hint of dark leathers under it. Ill gotten gold. No qualms about taking from other thieves, not ones with that kind of money. Blue circles the men for a bit, keeping out of sight as the leader peruses from shop to shop. He’s calm and confident talking up shop keeps about their wears. He buys an expensive knife with part of his gold. Blue waits in the shadows for the shopping to be done.

When they start heading for the tavern that’s when he pulls it. He runs through the marketplace, pretending like he didn’t see the brightly dressed man and runs head first into him. He doesn’t make the interaction long, taking the time of shock from the impact to pull the bag of gold from the tieflings belt, hugging it to his chest, covering it with his tattered cloak. He pretends to be hurt and shocked as he pulls away clutching his chest. He knows hands are coming for him, a reaction to push or to comfort he knew from adults but he dodges it. “Sorry, mister,” He voices in his best kid tone to make himself seem younger. Then he is off running like he has somewhere to be and now he does. A huge score was in his arms and he knows that the men aren’t likely to take his actions kindly. He needed a place to hide.

The woods were not the ideal sleeping space, especially with how much gold he had but he knew he couldn’t stay anywhere in town. He needed to move on and quickly. Trekking through the woods at night though was a dangerous prospect alone. One cold night out in the woods would be worth it just to get away with the gold. So, he finds a tree with a wide enough branch to sleep in and climbs into it. He could rest easy knowing that this would be the last cold night, the last hungry night. Those thoughts sit with him and let him sleep for a few hours.

Jerked out of sleep by feeling pain hit his leg and spine. He tries to raise his head. He had picked a wide enough branch that he shouldn’t have fallen out. His head is spinning but he can make out shouting in his sleep ridden mind. He feels a sharp kick to his side and he curls in on himself crying out as his brain catches up with the world around him, “Where is it you little shit!?”

“What?” Pain and sleep muttle his mind, forgetting about the actions he had taken only hours earlier. He’s grabbed by the collar and shoved back into the tree. He cries out his delicate wings taking the brunt of the blow. There was a snap and pain shot through his bones and up unto his spine.

“Don’t act like you don’t know I saw you take the gold!”

Tears start flowing from the young boy’s eyes, “Please I’ll tell you just let me go.” Smack. He’s hit across the face, hard. His cheek stings and the taste of blood wells up in his mouth.

“That’s not how this works you’re going to tell me.” Blue finally gaining control over his own muscles again struggles getting his hands up and trying to support himself on the bald man's arms. The force on his collarbone and into his misplaced wing is too much.

“Okay okay!” He cries out struggling. “It’s in my bedroll up there. There’s a false pocket sewn into the inside front.” He takes in a breath of relief kicking away from the man when he is let go. He pushes himself with his feet inching further and further away. The adrenaline starts coming down as he takes in deep breaths and the sharp piercing pain of a small broken bone hits him. He had broken fingers before, no big deal. A part of his wing though wasn’t going to be so easily patched up by himself. He wants to strain to look at it but his eyes keep focused on the man with the glower look as he comes down with gold in hand. More tears flow at the thought of what he just lost. No more security, back to hungry cold nights. Back to begging and thieving for every little luxury. He fights back a sob, he’s not a little kid he can’t act like one.

The man looks over, a smirk crosses his face as he pockets the coin into the front of his shirt, “You have no idea who you stole from do you?” Blue doesn’t answer, he just scoots back a bit more trying to get away. He knew that he could run and end it all but what little he did have was left in that tree. The man walks forward jerking his body in a threatening manner feigning another hit. “Answer me!”

“N-no, I don’t.”

A small tisc of his tongue comes, “Doubly bad for you.” Blue turns over and tries to get up when the man rushes for him but he’s grabbed by the legs and pulled back. They’re pinned underneath the man and he cries out.

“Please! Please you have the gold back, haven't spent a lick of it swear!”

He cringes away as the man whispers in his ear, his breath hot with the stench of liquor, “Boss doesn’t know that. I’m gonna get a gold bonus and catch the thief that stole from him.” The sound of a knife coming from a leather sheath is heard and Blue screws his eyes shut. “We’re all alone out here and I’m going to enjoy this.”

“Please stop! Get off of me.” His beg is met with the knife’s edge running straight along the exposed part of his back.

“Good for nothing street kid doesn’t even have manners.”

“Somebody please help!” Blue shouts as loud as he can knowing there was no reasoning with the man he had to hope someone would hear him. He struggles trying to get his legs free but the other man is almost double his size. His mouth is quickly covered and the blade is pushed up to his neck and his breath hitches. He didn’t want to die, not here, not like this. He gives muffled pleas for his life and the man on top of him lets it go on. He’s enjoying watching the boy beneath him cry and squirm. A large grin on his face and eyes that hunger to see someone’s life in his hands knowing full well he’s going to kill them no matter what.

“Cahir!” In a second the knife is pulled away from Blue’s neck. “Get off of him.” Blue can’t see who it is but his heart is racing. As soon as the weight is lifted from him he tries to bolt away but is quickly caught by the back of his shirt collar. He gives a gargled cry of pain reaching up for his neck.

“Oh no you don’t.” He’s thrown and pushed in front of the man who had him pinned down. He stumbles and comes face to face with the tiefling from earlier. His brow is furrowed and frown lines cross his face. Blue cowers away trapped between the man he stole from and the man who assaulted him.

“What is the meaning of this?” He talks past Blue keeping his voice steady but it’s ready to tip into full anger any second.

“He stole from you sir!” The man argues like he doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong.

“I am aware of that fact.” Blue looks between the two men wondering if he can make a run for it but decides against it. He wasn’t sure he could out run them even if he hadn’t just taken a beating. “I told you to stand your ground and stay at the inn.”

“We can’t let street rats get away with things like that!”

The tiefling glares the man down, “I gave you a direct order. I do not need to explain myself to you. Now hand me the gold and go back to town. I better not see you until morning.” Blue watches as the man walks up and he hands over the gold. He mumbles something under his breath as he walks away. He’s glared after until he’s out of sight and Blue takes the opportunity to try and slowly back away. He knows how to hide in the shadows, maybe he could get away that way.

Amber eyes fall on him before he can execute his plan. They don’t burn with anger anymore. They soften and brows now furrow in worry instead of anger. “You’re hurt. Let me help.” Blue pauses; he can’t trust this man.

“I’ll be fine.”

“In your state something is going to get infected and it’s my fault I don’t have better control over my men.” Blue bites his lip as he turns his head and stretches out his hurt wing to see the state of the damages. It’s hard to see between matted black and white feathers. Blood is coming from somewhere but he can’t tell where or what is broken. The red skinned devilish man is pulling something from his coat pocket. Blue looks over quickly but is surprised when it’s not a weapon but some kind of small jar. “I can help.” The man’s voice is slowly turning from strained calm to an actual soft worried tone.

Blue crosses his arms over his chest and pulls back, “Why would you help me?”

“You got my gold fair and square. I fell for one of the easiest tricks in the book because I wasn’t paying attention. That’s my fault. You taking my gold was entirely preventable on my part. I’m sure you can tell me every detail about that.”

Blue stays quiet before watching eyes make it clear that the man was serious for him to tell. “You kept it on your hip. Either you think that you could catch any thief or that much gold is a deterrent to any potential one. You were lost in buying and taking in the market. You could have seen me at any point in time and guessed that I was marking you. You let me run into you and the knot on the bag wasn’t very secure. Something stopped you from grabbing me when I first hit you, letting me run off.”

“Very good.” The man smirks, almost seeming proud. “Someone teach you that?” Blue shakes his head. That elicits a frown, “How long have you had to study that then?”

“My whole life.”

“How long has that been?”

“Dunno.”

“Best guess?”

“At least twelve years.”

“Where are your parents?”

“I don’t know.” Blue shrugs off the question, he doesn’t have any memories of anyone taking care of him.

“Will you let me help you?” Blue turns, looking around for his options of escape but he needs the bone set at least and he isn’t sure he can do it on his own.

“Fine…I have some bandages in my things” He moves, pushing through the pain to climb a couple of steps up the tree to pull down his bag and bedroll.

“Do you have a name?”

“Most people call me Blue.” He motions to his eyes the color for which he got his name sake. Tensing as he pulls out a roll of old cloth from his bag. The tiefling had come closer and he still didn’t have faith that this wasn’t a trap.

“Remy.”

“What?”

“People call me Remy.” Blue nods and he turns his back facing the gentleman. He can tend to the other minor scrapes and bruises himself. “You haven’t been taking care of these.”

Blue winces as a hand touches his wing, “It’s hard all on my own.” There is silence for moments where the man seemed to be focusing. Carefully moving matts and feathers out of the way trying to take a look at the damage without causing more pain.

“You know you surprised me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t even notice you until you ran into me. That isn’t common.”

“Yeah well.” Blue shrugged, he doesn’t want to talk, he just wants this to be over.

“Pushing these bones back into place is going to hurt.” Blue grits his teeth but finds himself unable to hold back a scream as a swift unwarned movement sets the bones of his wing back into place. He whimpers and stumbles forward but he’s caught around the chest with a full arm. It was clearly to try and prevent causing anymore pain. He wants to be strong but a sob wracks his body as he is gently pulled down to the ground. Everything of that night just washes over him. All of the pain from the broken bones and the beating, the loss of hope that a bag of gold could give, the tiredness from being uprooted from his sleep, the pain of hunger in his belly. He sobs. He turns into Remy and he just sobs. There isn’t any move to push him away or continue the pain; there is just a warm embrace surrounded by the scent of wood fire and paper.

Blue is allowed to let his emotions out, Remy figuring that the kid hadn’t really much time to just let go. With the bone set the minor scrapes and bruises could wait. Pulling the kid close and placing his chin on the top of the boy’s head in an attempt to comfort. Time passes eventually the sobs even out into shallow breathing. The tiefling isn’t surprised the kid fell asleep, childish but Blue was just a child. He shifts the sleeping boy around taking a look at his cheek. It would bruise if nothing was done. He sets the pot that’s been in his hand down on the ground, opening it with one hand the other, keeping the small boy close. The ointment would heal bruises and close wounds. He dips his fingers in before carefully applying a layer to the boy's cheek. He moves on checking and applying to other bruises and cuts he has. The wing would need time to properly heal. Remy wants the kid to sleep proper. He pulls away gently laying Blue down in the grass.

It doesn’t take him long to wake though, he lurches up looking around in a small panic. Remy holds out his hands motioning for him to calm down. “How-”

“Maybe half an hour.” The man waves it away and Blue can see the bags under his eyes. Judging by the sky it was deep into night and he guessed that the man must usually be asleep.

“Thank you.”

There is a small nod, “You know it doesn’t have to be like this.” Blue turns away. He knows there are people who would take him in but he’s scared. Adults have always been mixed in their kindness. That and he didn’t want to burden anyone with his pain. He could take care of himself. “You’ve clearly proven yourself as a thief. There is room in my guild for people like you. We have enough gold to make sure that our brothers and sisters don’t go hungry. You’d have a home to return to. A soft bed to sleep in.” Blue sits up looking over him for a movement. He seemed genuine. He pulls out the coin purse from earlier handing it over. “And there is a lot more where this came from.”

“Guild…” There is a small moment of realization. “You mean you’re a-” He covers his mouth knowing for sure now that this night should have ended very differently.

Remy though gives a good natured laugh, “You stole from a leader of a thieves guild? Yes.”

“But.” Blue looks to where the man from earlier left, then down to the gold, “What about…” That man had to have had a high ranking position. He can’t imagine himself being welcomed.

“Cahir?” Remy sighs, running a hand through his hair. “The man has a temper but knows how to behave in the guild. Besides, most aren’t like him. Most came to me lost, hungry, and hurt like you. They’re family. We protect each other.” Blue knows he doesn’t have to take it. The gold in his hand is more than enough to start a life. He doesn’t know what he would want to start though. What Remy was offering him sounded so appealing. A place in the world, with people who he could trust. He had already proven himself to be better than most people Blue had met.

“Okay. I want to join you.”

Remy stands up welcoming out a hand, “I won’t promise it will be easy but I have a feeling you already know that.”

[yeahinoticed]

Trimberly Pirate AU

There are Very Many ideas in my head. If you’re interested in them, take a look at my feeble attempt at fic writing below.

Perhaps they were fated to meet, or maybe it was simply chance. Either way, there was no turning back. Their story was an inevitability - its movements as sure as the tides themselves.

A Pirate AU wherein Trini is a notorious pirate captain, and Kimberly just wants to be free.

Read it on AO3 here!

She had never expected to be here. Though Zack’s plans were wild to be sure, she had to concede that more often than not, they worked. Still, she’d rather it was him in her place. But as great a strategist as he was, Zack was terrible at keeping his cool. His excitement was likely to get the better of him, and if it happened here, it would spell the end of their careers - and most probably their lives. They just couldn’t risk it. Trini fiddles with the gaudy looking brooch pinned to her lapel. It looks like any other - a brassy little trinket engraved with a crown, vibrant red gemstone studded proudly in its centre. They’d picked it up in Havana last year, not long after their first success. Trini had been adamantly against spending their newfound gold on such frivolous things, but Zack would insist it was a token of celebration, a small purchase he’d treasure forever. It was hard to say no to such blinding enthusiasm, so she’d simply rolled her eyes and turned away, which he’d obviously taken as approval. Trini thought he’d get bored of it and sell it at the next port for some other shiny thing, but true to his word he’d held on to it, and the cocky grin he’d worn when brandishing it at her this morning had her reconsidering their partnership. Nevertheless, it was becoming useful now, so she supposed she couldn’t really fault him. 

She’d always thought such things were kind of tacky. Blatant shows of wealth and title weren’t really her style. They make you stand out. And in her line of work, standing out makes things a whole lot harder. Yet here she is, clad head to toe in a flashy formal ensemble. The mustard coat, the breeches, the stockings, the dastardly wig and feathered hat - the whole lot. The frills of her shirt tickle her neck and hands, a constant irritation in the back of her mind even as she peers up at the garish manor before her. Rendered cream walls, framed by extravagant trimming reflect the bright midday sun so brightly that they almost glow. The dark gravel path up to the manor is edged with smooth stones, dividing it from verdant garden beds which are somehow both calculated and unruly at the same time. At the base of the path, two uniformed guards flank an ornamental wrought iron gate. Its bars twist intricately to resemble thorned roses, and its top edge is studded with spikes. They glare at her, suspicion evident in their faces, hands gripping their rifles ever so slightly harder - imperceptible to an untrained eye. She understands their wariness - while her linen garments give the impression of status, she isn’t their typical wearer - no woman is. Trini might be accustomed to the blade, but it was time to put her sharp tongue to use.

 “State your business ma’am”.

 “Isn’t it quite obvious, good sir?” she replies. The accent doesn’t come easily to her, and if the guards notice, they give no indication of it.

 The one who had spoken looks to his comrade, visibly apprehensive. It was a difficult situation for him. If he gave the wrong person trouble, he’d be out of a job before evening. Yet he couldn’t simply stand aside, for then he wouldn’t be doing his job at all. He hadn’t signed up for such dilemmas. He sighs. 

 “Your invitation?”.

 “This is all hardly necessary” Trini remarks as she slips the folded letter from her inner breast pocket. The guard scans it over, thumbing the seal that identifies its sender. When he scans it a second time, his eyebrow quirks.

 “Forgive me ma’am, but you don’t quite look like an ‘Oliver’ to me”. His partner scoffs at this, before clearing his throat and making to smooth the collar of his regimental red coat, directing his gaze somewhere in the distance. Trini replies without missing a beat.

 “My father was quite set on the name before I was even born. Though I do wish someone had talked him out of it, I don’t very well mind being named after my grandfather”.

 The guard squints at her, before his frown eases in thought. Her reasoning wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility. 

 “Very well, Miss Bennett. I’m sure Governor Hart will be glad for your arrival. I apologise for the inconvenience. I do hope you enjoy the party.”

 At the guards nod, Trini makes her way through the gate. 

 “It’s quite alright, I get it all the time”. 

 ---

 As she steps into the main hall, Trini is struck by the atmosphere. A low chatter echoes off the stone floors, intermittently joined by the soft clanking of cutlery. She can still hear the familiar whispers of the ocean in the distance, beckoning her back sweetly. Around her, the guests are dressed much the same as she is. They converse with false smiles, many holding silver goblets filled with what she can only assume is a fine wine. A guard stands at the foot of the main stairs, rifle up against his shoulder. She passes another who stands at the entrance to the dining room. There were more than she thought there would be. How bothersome. She isn’t two steps into the room when the idle noises of the manor are joined by the gentle moan of a violin. A grand wooden dining table is set against the main window, adorned with an assortment of food, though she’s sure it normally resides front and centre. As tempting as it looks, it's not what Trini is here for. She lets out a quiet chuckle. Zack would’ve been right squiffy by the day's end, if he’d come along. The people in the room begin to pair up, swaying slowly to the violin’s song. While she’d prefer not to partake, she’s sure to arouse suspicion just standing here - and she’s not sure she could hold a real conversation without giving herself away. 

 Trini glances around the room. Standing by one of the large windows is a woman in a silken, rose coloured dress. She’s strikingly beautiful, with her dark brown hair in an elegant updo. It catches the afternoon light in a way that steals Trini’s breath for a moment. She’s about to look away, find someone else, when the woman turns, meeting her eyes. After a pause, the stranger smiles faintly, tilting her head in silent questioning. Rats. With one deep breath, Trini slips back into her persona. It was time to dance. 

 ---

 Kimberly Hart has attended many a party in her twenty three years. Her father’s parties, his friends’ parties, his enemies’ parties. It was expected of her really. Don a pretty dress, be receptive (but not too receptive) to her potential suitors. Gossip idly with girls who have far too much time on her hands. She didn’t mind it, most of the time. She had to admit though, it could get a little boring. This was her father’s third ‘dance’ of the year and it was only February. He had to keep up appearances of course. How else would his peers know of Port Royal’s thriving trade if he did not celebrate it with fine wine and finer appearances. Even so, Kimberly could only tolerate the advances of so many men. Nobles, with promises of glamour and comfort back in the motherland. Merchant sailors who weave tales of wealth and adventure that seem just a little too crafted to be true. Naval captains who think their pride and ranking should have her swooning at their feet with nary another word. Every so often, there’d be one or two who would have her attention. Whose silk tongues and vibrant eyes would draw her in, if only momentarily. But she’d find soon enough that her biting wit was never appreciated for long, and the smooth talking would always give way to frustration. It seemed she was simply a prize to be won, a hill to be conquered. Bragging rights. Quite frankly, she was sick of it.

 And so, Kimberly finds herself standing by the front window of the dining room, eyes ensnared by the gentle ebb and flow of the waves upon the beach. Her mother used to tell her stories of the ocean - stories far grander, far more fascinating than those of her suitors. Stories of sleepless nights in raging storms. Of brilliant new lands and people and creatures. Of days spent in song and nights spent in stupor. She’d always wondered what it was like out there, beyond the confines of her father’s estate and everything it represented. Would she go? If given the chance? The thought is at the forefront of her mind when she feels the familiar pressure of a set of eyes, trying and failing to be inconspicuous. Turning quickly she seeks them out, finding a woman who seems just out of place. She’s wearing an embroidered suit, woven linen in a yellow far too green. The hair of her grey wig is pulled into a ponytail beneath her feathered tricorne. Her attire is interesting, yes, but Kimberly does not recognise her. She recognises most of her father’s guests. She feels her lips twitch upwards at the woman, holding her gaze from across the room. 

 Something flashes across her watcher’s face, gone too quickly to identify. The woman strides towards her, light on her feet. There's a vague slant to her hips, an unfamiliar swagger that Kimberly thinks might betray some unknown truth. What secrets were held in her small frame? She presents her hand, palm upturned. “May I have this dance?”.

 Kimberly takes her hand, finds it unexpectedly rough and calloused, but gentle. As if their union was a cue, the music picks up, the rest of the band joining the violin as its pace hastens. They begin to dance a casual rigaudon, Kimberly following the stranger’s lead. She waits for her partner to address her, watches her eyes flick about the room. They’ve stepped around each other three times before Kimberly breaks the silence.  “The strong silent type then?” 

 As if only just remembering where she was, the woman’s eyes snap towards her. Her brows knit together. “Pardon?”.

 This was unusual. Kimberly’s suitors would usually rush to fill silences, trying desperately to keep her eyes upon them. It seems her current partner barely cares for her existence. “You haven’t spoken a word to me since you asked me to dance”. She’s surprised at the venom that laces her words - it hadn’t been intentional.

 “I’m quite sorry madam”. With a turn, they dance in the reverse direction. “I was simply admiring the Governor’s manor. It’s quite beautiful. Have you been here before?” 

 Kimberly almost stops dancing. She searches the other woman’s face for any sign of jest, finding nothing but honesty and vague inattention. It was absurd to think a guest to this party would not know her name, though she supposes it could be possible. Her irritation fades quickly, replaced by a mounting curiosity. “My family is close to the Governor’s”, she lies. 

 Her partner’s only response is an idle hum. 

 With their next step, Kimberly’s eyebrow quirks. She pulls the woman into a twirl under her arm.  “And you are?” she inquires.

 Seemingly startled by the movement, the other woman stumbles slightly, before regaining her footing and resuming their dance. “Bennett. Oliver Bennett”, she replies firmly. Pulling Kimberly into a twirl of her own, she smirks. “Merchant extraordinaire”.

 Kimberly mulls the name over. Oliver Bennett. It sounded vaguely familiar, but any recognition she might have had was fleeting - as out of reach as a feather in the breeze. Though the woman had said it quite confidently, it had a strange sort of inflection. In fact, now that Kimberly thought about it, the woman’s accent was unfamiliar. It sounded vaguely English, but her words were more rounded, had a rich and intriguing depth to them, like they were dripping with such experience that it bled into their very sound. Kimberly’s stomach dips in a way she’s sure could be addicting. She returns her attention to Miss Bennett, only to find that her eyes are once again fixed elsewhere. She follows her gaze, finds it trained on the staircase in the entry hall. With a tilt of her head, Kimberly drapes an arm over her partner’s shoulder, pulling her closer with every step. “Extraordinaire, hmm?”.

 The woman drags her eyes back to Kimberly’s and holds them there for a long moment. Her smile turns upwards. “You sound surprised, Miss…”

 “Clarke”, Kimberly supplies, flinching internally. It had been the first name to enter her mind. She banishes the thoughts that surround it. Not now. “It's not every day I meet a woman merchant” she admits. “You’ve piqued my interest Miss Bennett”. 

 Though it seems the other woman’s attention is now firmly upon her, Kimberly makes no move to increase the distance between them again. This close, she can see the depths of colour within the other woman’s eyes, reflecting the light of the setting sun. They glint with unspoken secrets, not unlike the pieces of foreign jewelry often brought by traders upon the tide. Promises of a world much larger than anything Kimberly had experienced. 

 “Some would say my methods are...unconventional”. The merchant’s words bring her out of her reverie. They serve only to deepen her curiosity.

 “However do you mean?” Kimberly presses. 

 “Trade secrets, Miss Clarke - I can’t simply give them away”, she replies with a wink. “But I have to be smart you see”. Another twirl brings their faces impossibly close together, and she whispers her next words carefully. “There are pirates out there you know”. 

 Kimberly is about to press further, when the sharp ringing of the town bell cuts through the manor, signalling another day’s end. The music begins to fade, and the woman detaches and spins away from her with a sly smile, disappearing amongst the meandering throng of people moving from the dining room into the entrance hall. She scans the small crowd, but any traces of the woman’s yellow coat and devious grin are gone as swiftly as they had come. It's only once she turns back to the window that Kimberly notices how fast her heart is beating. 

[willowistic22]

The pleasure’s all mine... Prince Romeo

A grand party is held in the palace tonight, but one of the royal family member isn’t in the mood to indulge in it like how they’d usually be. Luckily, a stranger comes to save them. It just so happens that this stranger is so dangerously handsome. 

Word count : 4688

Part : -

Warnings : light mentions of alcohol, cursing, and that should be it. it’s nothing too serious. 

A/N: HIIII this is my gift for @s9da (well technically for paranormalsoup... i think you can piece in together why i asked you abt paranormalsoup in the wormsie discord server hehe) for the @newsiesgiftexchange i had fun making this bcs i absolutely love newsies royal au, so i hope you don’t mind i wrote a somewhat self indulgent fic for your gift hehe. it was still spromeo like you asked, but uhh idk i hope you like it bcs half of me think it’s not as great as i thought it was in my head. But anyways enjoy!!! :D

“Romeo! Get your ass out of there!” 

“How long does it take for you to get dressed?!” 

The two muffled voices turned into banging on the door. Romeo rolled his eyes, deciding to ignore his brothers and continuing to adjust his tuxedo in front of his full length standing mirror. 

His bedroom door swung open with no warning. In turns, two boys formally dressed came storming in. 

“Race! Crutchie! You could have at least waited for me to let you two in!” Romeo protested, adjusting sleeves under his dark blue blazer. 

“My God, Ro! You’re not even ready yet!” Crutchie commented, walking over as fast as he could with his crutch to get to where Romeo is standing. He takes the silver tie from the dresser and slings it around Romoe’s shirt collar, “The party is supposed to start right now and you know dad would want all of his sons to be present!”  

“He was probably too busy talking to the cat, weren’t you?” Race flops on the big bed, causing the dozens of velvet pillows to jump. It also seems to have awakened a huge white fluffy cat in the midst of the pillows. 

“Racetrack! Snowy was getting his beauty sleep!” Romeo protested, seeing the scene unfold from the mirror. 

Crutchie flipped both of his brothers off, telling Race to be careful so he doesn’t mess his own outfit up and making Romeo stand still while he helps him get ready. In under five minutes and Romeo is properly dressed just like his brothers. 

Crutchie places Romeo’s crown on top of his black locks, the magnificent silver object goes perfectly with the intricate silver curlicue designs on the shoulder and back of his dark blue blazer. With the tiny silver crown lapel pin and its tiny chain draping on the fabric to wrap up the dashing outfit. 

The three head out of the room. They strut through the grand hallway like it’s a fashion week runway, feeling confident with every step following the red velvet carpet till they reach the grand ballroom decked to the nines just like them. 

A huge chandelier hanging above the open space. A few tables and chairs neatly organized for the awaiting guests but still leaving enough space for a dance floor. The huge glass doors wide open to make use of the huge balcony for the party, also letting the evening breeze through the door. 

“About damn time you three show up!” Jack, the oldest brother exclaimed. 

“Jack! Do mind your language!” Their father protested. 

His three younger brothers walk up onto the podium, greeting their father who’s sitting on the only throne present. 

“It was all Romeo’s fault. He didn’t know how to tie his own tie!” Race joked. 

The brothers have their little silent squabble as they stand behind the throne. Crutchie decides to not get himself involved in it and tries to break it up, “Oh, grow up you guys!” 

Those words did nothing to help. In turn, Crutchie turns to their father in hopes to ignore those three. 

“Jackie-love! Listen to your brother, please!” A different voice chimed in. 

The three turn their focus away towards it and see Jack’s husband already fully dressed up. In a classy dark purple suit with a grey tie in the same shade as Jack’s own suit. 

“We’re celebrating our sixth anniversary and Sarah is finally home from her travels. The least you could do is to keep yourself presentable!” 

Jack pushes aside the squabble, switching on his loving smile for Davey. Romeo and Race pulled away from the squabble right after Jack. Their father silently sighed in relief to see his sons finally deciding to act like fully grown adults. 

He tells the royal guards to let the guests in. In under five minutes, the ballroom was instantly filled with guests in formal attire. Some fill their assigned seats for the dinner that was promised in the invitation while others mingle with each other. The band, playing lovely tunes loud and clear but it wasn’t time for the guests to get up and dance. 

The princes have also indulged themselves in the party. Jack and Davey can be seen mingling with the guests they’ve invited, listening to their congratulations on their sixth anniversary. Crutchie has gone to god knows where, which is surprising because he’s wearing a flashy yellow and black suit in the midst of all the mostly dull colored outfits in the ballroom. Race had gone off to fulfilling his promise to their father of introducing his new lover, the future king of Brooklyn. 

Romeo is left to slump on the round table with leftovers sitting idly on his plate. An odd thing for him to do, and he’s quite aware of it too. Romeo adores mingling, making new friends, or even catching up with some old friends that he has indeed spotted somewhere amongst the crowd this evening. Though, his energy to do so doesn’t seem to be there in this particular moment. 

The young prince watches from afar as his big brother finally introduces Spot Conlon to their father. Spot’s dark red suit is really contrasting to Race’s own outfit, a bright blue suit with golden curlicue designs on the shoulders and back which is a bit like Romeo’s. It matches perfectly with his blond messy curls and electric blue eyes. 

Romeo smiles, seeing his brother’s face lighting up as their father seemingly approves of the dashing Brooklyn boy that he has so helplessly fallen in love with for the past two years. Romeo doesn’t linger on it though. He returns his focus towards his empty table and plate, a sad smile painting his face as he observes his own reflection on the ceramic. 

“Well, aren’t you the life of the party!” A voice interrupted his thoughts, causing him to lift his head up, “But if I do say so myself, and I mean no offense to his royal highness, you’re quite the tragic sight sitting here all alone” 

His eyes landed on a gentleman standing proud and tall in a maroon suit, a black tie neatly tucked under his blazer. His complexion reminded Romeo of the topaz rocks in some of the castle’s intricate decorations, rich with brown but always glowing bright with the rest of the gems. In this case, his glow comes from the simple smile and the lovely brown eyes behind the silver framed spectacles. 

The initial comment brought a smile to Romeo’s face and a little laugh along with it. He fixes his sitting posture, eyeing the stranger with a head tilt while his head tries to figure out who this guest could be. 

“And you’re what? Here to be my savior from my little slump?” Romeo replied to match with the stranger’s cleverness. 

Seeing the success his opening line has brought, the gentleman pulls out an empty chair next to Romeo and sits himself down, “Well, you’re the prince here. Whatever it is you command me to be, I’m pretty sure I need to follow” 

Romeo lets out a small fit of laughter through his smile, looking away from the man’s eyes. It also makes the stranger laugh along with him. 

Romeo returns his sight back to the man in front of him. He walked right into a gaze-off he cannot look away from. In no means for intimidation, but a brief yet firm infatuation through the art of eye contact with the man he just met. Only now did Romeo realize how dangerously handsome this stranger is. 

“Romeo!” The call of his name pulled him away from the gaze and back to the world around him. 

He spots Crutchie zipping through the crowd. A smile painted on his face, just as bright as the yellow and black suit he’s currently rocking in. Romeo stands up to give his brother a hug. 

“I see you’ve met one of my friends from the lab!” Crutchie gestured back to the stranger Romeo was just previously speaking to, already slightly bowing his head to pay his respects to the two members of the royal family. 

“Oh, you work in the lab!” Romeo concluded, turning back to face the stranger who’s already on his feet. 

“Yeah. We call him Specs!” Crutchie giggled, making the other man laugh along while Romeo looks back to where he’s currently standing, “And Specs, this is my brother, Romeo!” 

Specs pulls up a simple smile for Romeo and a firm head nod. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you two!” Crutchie apologized, a few moments after remembering they were previously having a conversation. He adjusts his crutch to get ready to leave, “I’ll leave you two to it, okay?” 

Romeo watches as his brother walks away to mingle into another group. It leaves him with the previous gentleman he was talking to. The only differences now, he’s not much of a stranger anymore. 

“So... That’s what they actually call you? ‘Specs’?” 

“Well, it’s because, if you can’t already tell…” 

Specs gestures towards his spectacles that rests on the bridge of his nose. Romeo chuckles, playfully rolling his eyes. But the smile tells Specs he’s still in the clear from offending a royal family member. 

“What’s your actual name? Unless you don’t have one” 

He laughs, parting his lips to let it out before saying, “It’s Julian. But now people mostly refer to me as Specs” 

Romeo nods, staring directly into his sparkly brown eyes. Whatever is gleaming under it is very inviting, and Romeo isn’t opposed to this mysterious invitation. He’s rather pleased by its presence. Before he knows it he’s already engaged with it, letting his own obsidian gemstone eyes linger in the gaze. 

“A pleasure to meet you... Specs” 

“The pleasure’s all mine... Prince Romeo” 

- 

Soon enough the sun has fully set. The night sky takes over the heavens above, thread by sparkling pearls to break up the deep blue. But the party didn’t stop. The royal family’s favorite performer, Ms. Medda Larkin, has finally arrived in the most fashionably late way. Her grand entrance was welcomed with warm arms by King Denton himself. 

With the presence of the superstar, the band picked up its lack of entertainment as Ms. Medda picked up the microphone after a quick dinner. The jazzy upbeat tune sends all the guests roaring for the dance floor. 

Romeo though? He has his own entertainment, in the huge balcony by the bar with his own partner. 

“No dance?” 

Romeo pries his eyes away from the dance floor he’s observing from outside. He glues them onto Specs, leaning his shoulder on the shiny bar top while twirling his glass of scotch. 

Romeo shakes his head, making a semi weird face, “Not really up for it” 

“Huh, you’re nothing like what Prince Charlie says” Specs commented, taking a gulp from his glass to finish his drink off, “He says that you’re very energetic and flirty” 

The comment makes him scoff through his smile, “I can’t say that he’s wrong. But… I’m just not feeling it tonight” 

The little silence between them is giving Romeo the impression that he should explain even further. But he takes this chance to finish his own drink and change the subject, “So, you work in Crutchie’s lab?”  

The subject of Specs’ profession quickly did the trick. It also reveals some basic facts about him. As it turns out, Davey was the one that pushed him to work in the royal lab. He’s been friends with Davey since college and has been partners in crime ever since. Davey was first to get the job as a chemical engineer at Crutchie’s lab after a year of switching jobs to match his preferences, while Specs was still continuing his studies for a masters degree. Since he’s been an A+ student at a young age, the first application he sent got him the call for the job interview and got in quickly. 

Romeo was very impressed by the story. Half way through it he starts to question as to why he’s been given the honor to talk to Specs. There is no way Specs is anywhere close to Romeo's league. 

Regardless, Specs doesn’t seem to question all of that. While there’s a noisy ballroom in the background, they’re having a party of their own. Smiling, laughing, and basically having a great time in their private little universe. Romeo is very much infatuated by the gentleman and wouldn’t want anything in the world to ruin the moment. 

“Y’know, you should probably just drop all the formalities at this point” Romeo lightly mentioned, between sipping his third drink he had only touched after half an hour upon asking the bartender for one, “It’s just me” 

“Just you?” Specs questioned, lips wrapping up into a warm smile that makes Romeo’s heart melt. 

He froze in place, admiring the wonder to behold. It makes Romeo smile wider as he slowly nods at the question. 

Before he could say anything else, the loud sound coming from inside took over their center of attention. A loud cheering of guests over something neither Specs or Romeo knows about, as the view was blocked by dozens of backs. 

Romeo turns his head away from it, focusing back to where he is currently at. He glances over at Specs and says, “Let’s get out of here” 

Specs looks back at Romeo, a little confused with his offer, “And go where, exactly?” 

Romeo sips the remaining liquid in his glass, setting it back with a loud clang against the bar top. He spontaneously grabs Specs’ hand and drags him away, leading him to the stairs on the side of the huge balcony. With every step down, the twinkling Manhattan view slowly fades away from their eyes. 

It was soon replaced by the view of the royal garden in the dark. A cobblestone path stretching to as far as the eyes can see in the dark, pass the green trees with overgrowing plants hanging over it, and various shapes of bushes strategically placed all around the settlement. The smell of the grass is so fresh and different, unlike anything Specs has ever encountered before. 

However, Romeo drags him to the other direction. They walked under a dimly lit tunnel, under where the balcony and the ballroom is. They can barely see each other in this kind of lighting, though Romeo’s crown was able to let the tiniest ray of light reflect on its figure. At the end of the tunnel, they can see an opening which would lead them to the center of the palace where another garden is located. 

“Where are we going, if I may ask?” Specs returned to his previous unanswered question. 

“Just… around, I guess” 

The two smile at each other, Specs nodding along to whatever bullshit he was just fed but still getting entertained by it anyways. 

“So… are you gonna tell me why you decide to detach yourself from the party?” 

So he noticed. Well, it isn’t like Romeo has been sneaky about it but he was hoping it wouldn’t be brought up. 

“That party isn’t for me so…” Romeo started, fiddling the hem of his blazer, “... It didn’t felt right if I were to mingle in there” 

“Because that party wasn’t for you?” 

Romeo stops in his tracks, realizing how wrong that sounds, “Okay, wait, I take that back umm…” 

“No, it’s okay if you’re a little… self centered” Specs half teased. 

Romeo scoffs at that, playfully shoving his arms with his shoulders that sends the taller boy laughing. He recollects his composure and re-explains himself, “I mean… Jack, Race, and Crutchie are up there because they have…’something’” 

The two continue to walk through the tunnel, Specs fixated to Romeo as he explains himself. 

“You see Jack, already living up to his reputation from being a good leader. Charismatic, fearless, all of that. He’s just waiting for our father to step down from the throne so he can unleash his full potential” Romeo started out, which made no sense to Specs question but he kept listening anyways, “And then you got Race. However big of a dumbass and a troublemaker he is, he’s smart! He doesn’t work full time at the lab but you’ve seen him there a few times, right?” 

Specs nods, recalling the memory of him seeing prince Anthony while he was working. 

“A great problem solver. Despite being the one that causes the most problems in the castle” Romeo added, making Specs chuckle a bit. He lets himself smile at that but it didn’t linger long. 

“And you know Crutchie. He’s smart and wants nothing more than to help others. Hearing the voices of the little people” Romeo continued. 

He stops walking, causing Specs to do the same. They’ve almost made it through the tunnel, just a few more steps away. The moonlight can reach just far enough to illuminate their faces and highlight their main features. 

Romeo looks up to the other boy, “I’m almost 23 and I haven’t really done shit” 

Specs fully turns his body towards Romeo, his words from before finally clicking in his head. 

“I thought you were a performer” Specs said, “Isn’t that something to be proud of?” 

“It is something I’m proud of. But people talk, Specs” 

His older brothers are famous for what they’ve achieved that are viewed as ‘useful’ with their title as royalty. Romeo, on the other hand, is a famous Broadway performer. Whether it’s playing the lead role, a side character, or just a part of the ensemble, no one will deny his talent. But people still talk badly about his title mixed with his love for theatre. 

Specs stays silent while waiting for Romeo to continue. He let’s Romeo walk out the tunnel first, letting the glow of the night illuminate his whole body along with the garden he’s in. Though, his heart doesn’t seem to be enjoying it the way that he should. 

Romeo turns around to face Specs, already slowly stepping out of the shadows of the tunnel. He takes his crown off his head, letting it dangle freely in his right hand, “Living here has its perks. But the downside is people expect you to be a leader of some sort” 

The taller boy stands next to Romeo, observing one side of the castle. The bright lights from the chandeliers clear as day through the huge windows. 

“So you’re really going to let the stupid comments old people say about you affect the rest of your life?” Specs questioned, letting a small smile creep up his face, “I mean, you’re the one that gets all the girls drooling” 

“I guess, but I prefer guys anyways” Romeo half chuckled, his smile yet to return. 

“Then it looks like the odds are with me” Specs said in a cheeky manner, taking a few steps ahead of Romeo. 

It caught him off guard. He dumbfoundedly stared at the boy for a good few seconds while his back was facing him. Heart beating very fast. Heat rising up his cheeks. The corner of his lips picks up on the tiniest bit of joy and excitement his heart is indulging in. 

Specs turns around and Romeo shakes away any obvious adoration towards the boy, pretending to admire his crown in his grasp. 

“I mean, I think you’re a very talented actor” 

“So you’re a fan?” Romeo asked cleverly, looking up to meet his eyes again while placing his crown back on his head, “Is that why you came up to me in the first place?” 

“Among other things… yes” 

Well, that’s something to know. 

Romeo and Specs roam around the garden in the dark, though they stay quiet in fear that other people might hear their presence. The laughing felt more personal and heartfelt when it’s secretive like this. Somehow Romeo is falling out of his usual confident nature, getting shier with every giggle that escapes their lips or clever remark Specs added on to the conversation. 

Romeo brought up the idea for the two to head to his bedroom after spotting a glimpse of his balcony on the second floor. Well, from the ground it’s three floors up. Regardless, they were still able to utilize their environment to work in their favor on climbing to the balcony. 

Romeo avoided entering his bedroom because it was embarrassingly messy. So they stayed where they are, carefully sitting on the balcony railing and continuing their conversation. They picked it up so easily that they’re soon laughing together like before. This time, they get a view of the garden below, a glimpse of Manhattan, and closer to the night sky. The warmth of his bedroom through the open balcony doorway defeats the freezing temperatures from outside. 

Specs was interrupted mid sentence after an odd feeling came by his leg. Fluffy and warm, like it’s a living being. 

“Who’s this?” Specs looks down to see a white fluffy cat looking back up to him. He gently picks up the white furball and cradles it close to his chest with a loving smile. 

“About time he decides to wake up from his nap” Romeo commented, scooching closer towards Specs so that they’re shoulder to shoulder so he can pet his little feline companion, “His name is Snowy” 

Snowy purrs at the love he’s receiving, giving the two boys long and slow blinks with every pet they provide. 

“Do you have any pets, Specs?” Romeo asked. 

“My apartment doesn’t allow pets. It actually sucks because it can get a little lonely” Specs replied. He lets Snowy go after the cat starts stirring in his grasps. Specs cleans any excessive fur that got stuck on his blazer before turning back towards Romeo, “I’m glad I get to have my own space after needing to live in a foster home for the majority of the time. But I got used to having lots of people around so…” 

“Not courting anybody?” Romeo asked again, “You look like the kind of guy who’d win a lot” 

Romeo you fucking idiot. His mind was yelling at him for saying that. No one with common sense would blatantly say that to someone they just met that day. 

Specs chuckles through his smile, staring at Romeo with a little twinkle hidden in his brown eyes. It could just be the stars from the sky reflecting in his eyes, but it’s not possible because there was a meaning behind his glimmer. 

“Not really my style” Specs replied, a flirtatious smirk making its way up to his face, “Though, I met a guy recently and… I’m trying my best to impress him” 

Oh. My. God. 

Romeo didn’t realize how close their faces were getting. Hot breaths circulate the small gap between their faces. Romeo diverts his eyes away from Specs’, but it absentmindedly went to stare at his lips. He imitated the way Specs has his lips slightly parted. 

“A-and how’s that going for you?” Romeo dared to ask, stopping the gravitational pull towards each other. Any closer and Specs might know how fast his heartbeat is going. 

“Not sure” He replied breathlessly, “You’ll have to tell me” 

If stomach butterflies could explode then that is definitely how Romeo is feeling right now. But they stayed still. Neither quite seem to have the courage to take the next step. 

Specs took the initiative, slowly guiding his hand up to cup Romeo’s cheeks. He then whispers, “Can I-” 

“Romeo!” A muffled voice interrupted their little moment. They quickly pull apart and stare at Romeo’s bedroom door inside the dimly lit bedroom. Violent knocking followed after the voice and it continued, “Romeo, are you in there?” 

It didn’t take long for Specs to catch on to what’s happening. He scrambles himself away behind the brick wall of the balcony, just next to the doorway. Romeo fixes his suit and answers the door. 

Just as he expected it, it was Race. No one in the family knocks as violently as he does. 

“My God, Race! Can I ever get some time alone in my room?” Romeo answered the door. 

“Why are you even in here? You’re supposed to be at the party!” Race said, “Dad was looking for you, y’know” 

“I just needed a little air but I’ll be right there, I promise” 

He flips Race away and turns around, seeing the previous boy he was with coming out of his previous hiding spot. He smiles sheepishly at Specs, which was met with his own chuckling. 

“Guess, we better head back” Romeo said, looking up to meet Specs’ eyes, “But you’re gonna have to use the balcony” 

“I figured” 

Specs sits back on the balcony before swinging both legs over the railing to climb down. Romeo leans his body against the railing, held up by his arms. It’s only polite to wait for Specs to climb down before he leaves to get to the ballroom himself. 

“By the way… thanks for keeping me company” Romeo felt like he owed him a thank you. After all, Specs could’ve had some fun or gained more than just a casual get-to-know-me conversation if he were to fully participate in the party. 

Specs looks up from minding his steps down, back up to Romeo’s eyes with a loving gaze towards him, “Of course. When else will I get the chance to be this close to you?” 

Rome looks down to his hands to hide away his blush and bashful little smile. He notices Specs hands are still on the railing, placed quite close to his own. 

“But how did I do? Were you impressed?” 

Romeo looks up, finding the other boy’s face is already two inches away from his own. The exact same position they were in before getting interrupted by his brother, just this time Specs is hanging on the balcony.

“Is that something you want to know?” Romeo questioned back with a little giggle following it. He thought it would be fun to tease him around before they finally part ways. 

“It’s not usual for me to straight up ask but… “ Specs caught on with the teasing, “... technically you were the one that ask” 

Romeo giggles along with him. He nods to his question and answers properly, “Yes. I was very much impressed by you, Specs” 

The next seconds were filled with silence. The high from their little banter turned into adrenaline to do something with how they’re positioned now. They both realize it, as both smiles slowly fade to parted lips with hot and heavy breaths hitting each other’s faces. Romeo glues his eyes on Specs’ lips, he could only imagine the other boy did the same. 

“Do I get the permission to kiss you?” Specs asked, barely above a whisper while his hands traced up Romeo’s arm until it reached his cheek once again. 

Romeo stuttered through his next few words before replying with a little giggle, “Permission granted” 

Specs wasted no time, softly crashing his lips on the other boy’s. Fireworks set off in their heads as the feelings developed for each other from this short period of time are released in one gentle kiss. Romeo moves one hand to hold his neck, as a means to deepen the kiss and to secure Specs from falling. 

They part with heavy breaths escaping their lips. The heavy breathings turned into giggles and giggles turned into goodbyes. 

Romeo watches as a giddy looking Specs makes it to the ground and walks towards the previous tunnel. Before finally escaping his vision, Specs glances back up to Romeo. Despite the distant Romeo can see a stupid grin on his face, which only made him laugh. 

As Specs finally escapes his view, Romeo lets out a long and adoring sigh and melts into the moment. Lowering his body and placing his head on top of his hands that are gripping on the balcony. 

He hears his beloved fur ball meow near him, but he’s far gone for that boy to even care what the cat wants. 

“I know, Snowy,” Romeo said, as if understanding the language his cat speaks, “He’s such a dream…” 

[maaaaaatryoshka0325]

Vodka Kisses

Warning: Smut, jealous sex, dom Chan, pretty filthy

Requested 💕

You and Chan don’t party as much, mainly because he’s always locked away in his studio, and the fact that he’s an idol, and you were constantly worried about school and work. But you finally convinced him to go out with you and your friends to a club. He and Stray Kids just finished a tour, and he deserved it since you knew he’d coop himself back up in the studio when their break was over.

You were in a cute skirt and a button up shirt and twirled around in it, liking the way the outfit complimented your body. You finished it off with a cute choker and turned to see Chan looking at you, his eyes showing displeasure.

“You’re wearing that?” He asked.

“Chan, don’t start that.” You said, a small smile on your face. “Besides, you’re going to be right there with me.”

You walked over and pecked his plump lips, making a small smile stretch across his face.

“I picked out your outfit.” You said happily, handing him his dark button up with his tight dark jeans.

He laughed and got changed, and you noticed his shirt was a little messy. You walked over and smoothed it out over his chest, unbuttoning the top two buttons.

“Fair?” You asked, raising a brow.

“I guess so. You’re okay with it like this?” He asked, raising his own brow.

“Chan, you act like all of South Korea hasn’t seen your body.” You teased.

He grabbed you and began tickling you, making you laugh as you struggled against his strong arms. You playfully hit his chest and he grabbed your arms, kissing your lips as you tried to get away. You giggled into the kiss and pulled away, your eyes looking into his.

“I love you, Y/N.” He said with a smile.

“I love you too Chan.” You said back.

“Should I wear my Gucci belt? Or something less flashy?” He asked, looking at the multiple belts he had.

“Whichever one you prefer.” You laughed.

He went with a less expensive belt, not wanting to draw much attention that night. You ushered him outside and to the car, as he agreed to drive you home, even though you were dead set on taking a cab so he could drink and let loose. He pulled out of the driveway and towards the city, his hand on your thigh.

You were now sat at the bar, a couple of your friends around the two of you. You had convinced Chan to do one shot, so you both decided on a vodka shot. You were tipsy, as you drank more. The smell of his cologne and the warm feeling of his hand on your own made you feel happy.

“I’m running to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” He said in your ear before walking towards the bathroom.

You watched him walk away, your eyes on his cute butt as he entered the men’s room. (He really does have a cute butt)You heard the chair next to you squeak and you saw your classmate, Songha, sit next to you.

“Hey Y/N! I didn’t know you’d be here.” He said with a big smile.

“Oh, hey Songha. Yeah I come to this club a little often.” You said with a smile.

“Really? I never see you here.” He said.

“Yeah I come here often, maybe you just never see me.” You laughed.

“I’d definitely notice you.” He pointed out.

“What do you mean?” You asked, tilting your head.

“You’re absolutely stunning, and you look hot as fuck in that outfit.” He said with a smirk.

“Oh, thank you.” You said a little awkwardly.

“Do you wanna dance?” He asked.

Before you could even respond, you felt a hand grab yours.

“No, she doesn’t.” Chan hissed, leading you away.

He pulled you out of the club and you huffed.

“Channie, you over reacted.” You sighed.

“Over reacted? You’re joking right?” He asked, turning around and facing you.

His dark eyes were hard and his jaw was tight, and it sent shivers right down to your core. His eyes were narrowed as he stared down at you as you both stood outside of the car in the empty ally way.

“I told you not to wear that, and you didn’t listen to me!” He yelled.

“Chan I’m an adult, I can wear what I want!” You yelled back.

He grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and slammed his lips into yours, the taste of vodka on his tongue. The kiss was hungry and angry, teeth clashing. You moaned into the kiss and put your hands on his muscular chest, clutching his shirt, accidentally unbuttoning more of his shirt, showing his muscular chest. When he pulled away, his dark eyes were filled with desire.

“It seems you need to learn who you belong too.” He growled.

He pushed you up against the car, your chest squished against the windows. He moved your hair off to the side as he slipped your shirt down off your shoulder, and pressed sloppy kisses on your neck, before he sunk his teeth into your skin. You moaned as he left love bites and hickies all over your neck, his fingers rubbing your slit from behind.

You closed your eyes in bliss when he moved your panties to the side and rubbed your slit with two fingers, a low chuckle vibrating his chest.

“You’re soaked baby, do you get off on making me mad?” He asked.

You turned your head to deny it, but his fingers were shoved down your throat, your arousal leaving a bitter sweet taste on his fingers. He pumped his fingers in and out of your mouth, a smirk on his face. He pulled his fingers out and his hands went right to his belt, unbuckling it. Your eyes widened when you felt him tighten his belt around your hands, restraining you.

“I told you babygirl, I’m going to remind you whose you are.” He growled, pulling your skirt up.

He slipped his thick length out of his pants, the tip leaking with precum. You felt him tap his thick, heavy length against your ass, soft smacking sounds filling your ears. He leaned forward and sucked harshly on the bare skin on your shoulder before he grabbed his length and ran it along your slit, spreading your arousal and his precum all over your lower lips. You felt his tip at your entrance as he pushed it in, and you gave a soft whimper.

Chan always prepped you for the stretch, never once going straight in. But it seems you’ve pissed him off to the extent of not allowing you to feel the pleasure of foreplay, or saving you from the painful stretch. You cried out when he shoved himself up to the hilt in you, before pulling out and ramming himself to the hilt back in. He set a slow, rough pace, loud slapping sounds filling the ally along with your moans and whimpers. He wrapped his hand up in the roots of your hair and pulled your head back, making your back arch further. His dick hit deeper into you, making you cry out with each deep, fluid thrust of his hips.

“You took me with no foreplay like the little slut you are. Fuck- your pussy is eating my dick.” He growled, watching the way your pussy hugged his dick like a vice.

“I’m- I’m not a slut.” You whimpered.

Big mistake. He grabbed your hair harshly and lowered his lips to level with your ear.

“Oh really? What was your friends name?” He asked, pounding into you harshly.

You whined and his grip on your hair tightened.

“What’s. His. Name?” He punctuated each word with a harsh slam of his hips.

“S-Songha! It’s Songha!” You cried out, your nails digging into the leather of his belt as your hands were tied behind your back.

“Is Songha making you feel this good? Is he fucking you this deep?” Chan asked.

You shook your head and he slammed harshly into you, making sure he was balls deep, before stopping his hips as you cried out.

“Is he?” He asked.

“No!” You whined. “Please don’t stop.”

“Then whose making you feel this good babygirl?” He asked, rolling his hips deeply into you, kissing your sweet spot.

“Fuck- it’s you! It’s you Chris!” You wailed, knowing that calling him by his birth name would rile him up.

“And whose are you?” He asked, picking up his pace and slamming into your sweet spot.

“Yours! I’m yours Chris!” You cried.

“That’s it.” He purred.

He grabbed your boobs from behind and lifted you up, his pointer and middle finger tweaking your nipples. Your moans and cries made him pick up his pace, loud slapping sounds filling the ally as his balls slapped against your clit. With one harsh, balls deep thrust, you saw stars as you let out a choked scream of his name. He hips came to an adrupt stop and you sobbed as he didn’t ride your high out, making a painful feeling sit in the pits of your stomach.

“Did I fucking say you could cum?” He asked, his voice dark and octaves deeper.

“I’m so-“ Before you could apologize, he slammed himself balls deep into you again.

“Sorry huh? First you flirt with your classmate, try and defy me, and now you wanna cum without permission?” He asked, his voice holding anger. “You’re really fucking in for it.”

With that, he grabbed you by your restrained arms and pinned you flat on your back on the hood of the car. He slapped his thick dick against your pussy before shoving it back into your aching heat. He grabbed your throat and began to mercisly pound into you, making you choke out cries as his grip was tighter than usual.

“You’re not a slut but your pussy is so willingly taking my dick when you had no f-fucking foreplay- fuck- you’re so tight.” He groaned.

Your choked whines and whimpers had him speeding his pace up, his dick hitting every part of your insides possible. Your eyes were rolled back as the color from your face changed, turning to a bright shade of red. Your jaw was slack as your cries and whines came out as choked incoherences. He removed his hand from your throat when he knew you needed oxygen, only to abuse your already throbbing clit.

“I shouldn’t let you cum again, but you’re taking everything so well.” He grunted through gritted teeth as he felt you clenching around him.

“Please let me come Chris- please.” You begged.

“Fucking cum, slut.” He growled.

Your mind blanked out as you released yourself on his dick, the orgasm so intense you felt your thighs and Chris’ lower half get soaked. He let out a deep groan when he realized he made you squirt, and it sent him over the edge. He clutched your hips so tightly as he lost himself in euphoria that he left dark bruises the shape of his pretty fingers on your hips as you pussy tightened around him, hugging him into you.

You both panted as he collapsed on top of you, not caring that he got stickier. His head was in the crook of your neck as he regained his breath, his arm around your waist as the other supported some of his weight so he wouldn’t crush you. He lifted himself up and kissed your forehead before slowly pulling out, watching his warm cum spill out of your aching hole before he unbuckled his belt from your aching wrists.

He went into his car and grabbed a towel he kept with him and dried himself up before cleaning you up. He took one of his hoodies and placed it over your head, before pecking your lips. He lifted you up, knowing your legs were too weak to walk as he watched them shake. He looked down at you his eyes full of love as he held you bridalstyle.

“I now know how to make you squirt.” He giggled.

You playfully pushed his chest and he chuckled, his hand holding your cheek.

“I love you.” He said softly.

“I love you too Chan, I’m sorry I said you were over reacting. I would never leave you for anyone else, I love you so much.” You said softly.

He smiled at you before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“I know baby. Now, let’s go home and cuddle and watch movies.” He said with a bright smile.

He placed you in the passenger seat as he hopped in the drivers seat. He drove back to your apartment, his hand caressing your thigh as the other was on the wheel.

“You know, you’re really hot when you’re jealous.” You said with a small smirk.

“Yeah? Well next time I won’t be so easy on you.” He said.

Yeah, next time.

XXX

Okay but I’d let Chan ruin me, idk about y’all but 👀

[steveusesfaberge]

Particular Taste

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Harrington!Reader

Summary: Billy meets a girl who he just...can’t get over. She’s everything...and yet, good Lord - she’s so damn particular. Too bad though, cause he’s already head over heels for her...even if she’s a Harrington.

Type/Style: Imagine, Song Preference, Female Pronouns

Song Preference: Particular Taste (Shawn Mendes)

Warning(s): A bit of cursing, a bit of flirting, a bit of fluff, a bit of angst, a bit of Billy Hargrove...

Word Count: 5,500 roughly (I kinda got carried away... >.<)

a/n: I was listening to some music...and now I’ve got a million-and-one idea flooding me...ahh! Please send in requests if you so wish! I’d be happy to do them! :D (I write NSFW and if a writing piece is ever NSFW I will let you know! :))

 ━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

She don't listen to a thing - unless it feels right

Only dances when it's Kanye

He was used to girls falling for him. Tripping over their heels, each other, even air...well...because he was the Billy Hargrove. He was used to the attention; stares of longing, the glares of hatred. Either way, more to him - he had a nasty habit of feeding off of the energy of a room - the vibes bad or not, he craved it. It wasn’t Billy’s fault (a bad home life and a lack of proper understanding went a long way)...no, but he was too far in denial to admit the truth...all the truths. That he wanted only one person’s attention so badly, it kept him up at night; scowl on his lips as he thought about why. It was one of those dirty little secrets you kept to yourself because if you admitted it aloud, you’d be laughed down before you even got the chance to stand up. Billy didn’t need his reputation to crumble before him - not like this, no... He’d look like a total loser! From a casanova - to a whipped little puppy dog...

Some girls were a run for his money. But her? Y/N? No, she was a run for his whole damn life. Hell, he still thinks about the first time he met her. He remembers what he felt, what she said, how she smelt, and even the exact degree his stomach was doing flips at. Did he show it? Hell no.

“Hey, pretty lady, I caught that look across the room...decided to come over.” He’d been so confident in himself. He did admit though, that when he first saw her, it didn’t mean a damn thing to him...he didn’t think it would be any different from another one-night stand. Oh, was he wrong...

“Me? Pfft, must’ve been lookin’ the wrong way,” her gaze traveled along his figure in the most unnerving way. He swore cold chills shot down his spine like a ghost brushed by him. The way her eyes scanned him; as if searching for intimations of intentions and sharp edges... God, he felt naked in front of you...and never had he been so embarrassed to be bare in front of someone.

“I didn’t even see you.” It felt like a jab to his side, and he had to physically restrain himself from tumbling backward at the force of disinterest in her tone. He could place it she was playing hard to get - but this...was different. She seemed genuinely uninterested in him.

Her hair had been done - pinned back with a few stray strands loose; falling before her eyes to frame her face perfectly. She seemed to be wearing little to no makeup - Hargrove coming to the conclusion that she was just naturally this stunning. It wasn’t like she was wearing anything too flashy either; a simple knee-length dress that any good father would approve - a pale blue coloring and simple flats to match. Definitely, not what he usually settled for... Yet...he was itching to figure out this oddity...

“See me? Honey, your eyes never left me,” he had crossed his arms, leaning towards her - lips so close, yet so far. She hadn’t even flinched. Not a blush, or a shy look away. Challenging his gaze, she’d pushed him back by his chest.

“Well, maybe if your ego weren’t so big - you’d realize I was looking behind you.” a smirk played on her lips and her chin jutted up slightly as to indicate she was still looking there. He rolled his eyes, his mouth finding the words on their own.

“And who would be so graced to have your attention, Princess?” He questioned lightly.

“Not you.” With that, she stepped past him, not even giving him a second glance. His jaw fallen slack as he cranked his neck to watch her walk away. Damn those hips. The stranger had come and gone faster than his own snarky breath - and yet, she seemed to take it with her...his lungs desperate for air she was not willing to share...

“What?” He mumbled to himself as he watched her glide across the party to Steve Harrington. He rolled his eyes, biting his cheek as he debated going over and just knocking the kid’s block off...Would it be wrong of him? No one ever said it was wrong to get rid of the competition before the game even started...right?

She stood there, seeming to question him - as her arms were crossed, she had a brow raised and she didn’t seem....very happy. Not even a flirtatious glance to the rival brunette. It made Billy tilt his head in confusion. If she didn’t want to bed him...and she didn’t want to bed Harrington...who the fuck did you want to bed?

He watched Steve sigh, rolling his eyes, mouth opening to respond - stopping when Prince’s When Doves Cry rolled in and pumped through the room. A smirk fallen on the boy’s lips as he grabbed your hand and shoved you to the dance floor with him.

“C’mon! I know you only dance to Prince - can’t we stay for one more song?” Harrington urged, accompanied by some janky dance moves Billy was sure his dog taught him. Hargrove watched the interaction further, leaning to the wall were she previously stood. Curious of the y/h/c haired beaut’s reaction.

“Ugh. Fine! One more song, Steve - but mom told us to be home before one...you were the reason she even gave us a curfew - if you hadn’t--,” Harrington shut her up with a finger to her lip, him screaming the chorus of the song horribly to follow. Billy winced, but she seemed entertained.

He was surprised to watch her join him, her dance moves...just as bad as Harrington’s - yet, it didn’t explain why his eyes never left her. It looked like dances were being traded back and forth; almost like a dance battle of sorts.

Then it hit him. Like a ton of bricks, and still, it brought relief with him. Steve was her brother. The pair of Harringtons left shortly after the song ended; Steve whining like a child as his (assumed) sister drug him behind by his drunken collar.

On the way out the door, his eyes found hers and she only spared him a second. Not a smile, not a wink, not even a frown...and she was gone. He wanted to run after her - and yell, scream, shout...and when she asked what’s gotten in your pants? He would’ve frowned, complaining that it wasn’t fair you took his breath away, his heart, and didn’t even repay him...he had a feeling - even if he did that - she’d still not give one damn about it. Finders, keepers...

She can take you one-on-one if she feels like

You'll be begging her for mercy, mercy

“Please! C’mon, just one--,” “No, Billy. I said no earlier, and I’ll say it again.” “But you didn’t even give me a cha--,” “I don’t need to. I’ve seen how you treat girls; forget that - I’ve seen how you treat your own sister! I said no. Besides. My brother would never approve of you.”

Billy had never, not ever - pleaded for someone like this. He’d been annoyed before, but after a few attempts - he’d let it go - settling for nasty looks across the halls and lude comments with a smirk. She was different... Y/N Harrington had this fire that was so dangerous - even he was scared he’d get burnt. Yet, it didn’t stop him from trying...over...and over...and over...like a moth drawn to an open flame...he flew blindly.

She had called him out; time and time again - like it was a hobby of hers. Not even caring she spoke so rashy to him - Billy Hargrove. Did that mean nothing to Y/N? His name should strike fear in your heart, and jelly to your knees...yet, she had not a single reaction other than an eye-roll, a scoff, and a snappy remark.

He wondered if it was because of this - he couldn’t help but pine after her... She wasn’t afraid to tell him he was an ass...she wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself...she wasn’t afraid of the peer pressure of being in his presence...she wasn’t....afraid of him. She was definitely Steve’s sister....they shared a stubbornness that Billy had grown to hate - and now, admire.

“What do you want me to do, huh?” He’d finally stressed. Hands tearing at his dirty-blond locks. Eyes wide and exhausted after days, weeks, months of brooding, pestering, flirting, arguing...all for one measly date. He’d never been so hooked on someone before - and the longer he spent after her, the more he wanted her. The more he fell for her...but he didn’t say that. He’d never say that because Billy Hargrove wasn’t a one-woman-type of guy...right?

She had been busy trying to get home - basketball practice was over almost ten minutes ago and Steve was probably waiting for her. He’d be wondering where she was by now... And catching Billy as he wandered out of the lockerroom was not exactly planned.

But...this display - oh, good Lord, this display...of a man before her. Billy looked like a mess - a desperate, hot, mess. She’d heard through the grapevine Hargrove hadn’t been his usual sleazy self. Hadn’t bedded a girl in months. Wonder why...the answer was stood before her; in the form of a tall, muscular drink of daddy issues.

“On your knees.” Was all she said, arms holding a textbook to her chest (it was actually Steve’s - the dumbass always forgot it and ended up stashing it in her locker).

“Excuse me?” Billy grumbled while watching her with a biting tone.

“You heard me, Billy. On.Your. Knees.”

He hesitated. She questioned if he’d really do it. There were heartbeats of silence between them before she practically heard his eye roll - his knees bending - having his towering height fall down to her abdomen.

“Okay?” He hissed with the same annoyance as if he were the one being held behind and hadn’t stopped her from going home...

She snorted.

“Beg.” Was all she said, a grin on her lips as she drank in his state of shock.

He was quiet for a passing minute before his eyes furrowed in irritation. “I don’t beg - Billy Hargrove - doesn’t beg, Harrington.” He snarled as if she’d struck him down. And she had; with her extremely intoxicating scent...was that vanilla? He didn’t know...the one thing he could pick out, was the familiar waft of...something...he’d picked it up on Steve before, but on her? It confused him slightly (little did he know it was the hairspray you both used...Faberge did wonders, what could you say?).

“Helloooo, I’m waiting, Billy.” He could only process that he loved the way she said his name...his daze too strong.

“Goodbye -- my brother--,”

“Please, please, please,” he started quickly as he realized her body was now turned to leave.

His hands shot out and he grabbed her free one. It hung loosely had her side, the other occupied with a forgotten textbook. He pulled her knuckles to his lips, pressing soft kisses there as he watched Y/N, never breaking eye contact. The blue orbs swirling with a desperation she’d never seen before; emotions she’d would never pin Hargrove to ever harbor. She’d be lying if she said a blush wasn't being fought down.

“Goddamnit, please...Y/N...I’m...I’m begging you...begging...you...for...just,” he struggled to find it in him to be so...low...but Y/N’s coy smile egged him on in all the wrong ways.

“One date. If you don’t like it - I’ll leave you alone....probably.”

She hadn’t even answered him. Her heels turning as she marched her way to the side exit. He felt like she’d punched him in the face; his features lighting pink at what she’d made him do without even a second thought. He...was...he was angry...he was frustrated...oh, God, he was gonna---

“Friday night. You better be there at eight o’clock sharp, and if you’re a minute late I’ll never speak to you again. If you’re a minute early, I’ll still not talk to you because you’ll come off clingy.” Those words, as strict as they were - were heaven on earth. Billy scrambled to his feet and nodded, though she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, yeah...alright! Sounds good!” Lame.

“Oh, and Billy?” Y/N had his heart stop as she turned for a final time, back pushing the hallway door open to reveal a glimpse of Steve’s red BMW.

“If you smoke in front of my mom, or pick a fight with my brother - I’ll kill you myself.” Ouch. But there was no other way he’d want to die...

Ooh, she'll take your name and number

Then she'll hit erase and walk away

But ooh, is she so specific when she's at my place

At my place

“Right on time, I see.” Y/N teased while walking down the driveway to him. Billy had his signature denim jacket on, a white button-up adorning his chest; the first four buttons were undone to show off his collarbone and toned torso. He had a toothpick hanging out the corner of his lips and he had a casual air about him. Little did she know - Billy was riding a wave of ecstasy that he was sure he’d never live down.

“Of course, as per request, Princess.” He replied while waiting patiently for Y/N to take her sweet time coming over. The passenger door opening and closing with a soft thud.

“Steve’s okay with you going out with me?” He asked while watching Y/N buckle up.

“No. I didn’t tell him.” She explained simply.

“Oh, lying to your big brother now, are we?” Billy purred, shifting to face him, a charming smile on his handsome features.

“I don’t lie to anyone. He didn’t ask. So, I didn’t tell.” She explained while finally giving in, finally breaking, and finally returning her own pretty grin. God, his heart melted.

“I wish to be back before twelve, Billy.” Setting the standard, she raised a brow at him - as if asking can you handle that by yourself?

“Hey! Don’t look at me like that, it’s whatever the Princess wants!” He shrugged. Four hours with Y/N was enough for him - four minutes of her time had him begging..hands and knees...literally... He figured he could do a lot with four hours.

Billy wasn’t used to this kind of treatment. She acted as if he was just...some guy. Just someone she was seeing for (exactly) four hours, to have a bit of fun, and getting to know him. There was no - shy attitude, or stuttering, or even a race to his bedroom. Y/N treated him like he was...a friend. If that’s the word for it because he’d never been in a situation where he was the one lost for words.

Y/N hadn’t done anything special. Her hair was the same as always, she wore a simple T-shirt and jeans...not to mention, the classic Chuck Taylors on her feet. Y/N was just pulling her hair into a messy ponytail - when Billy stopped her.

“What?” She asked without missing a beat. Two things crossing her as she watched him. He hadn’t even pulled out of the drive yet, and now, he was tugging at her sleeve...

He kicked himself for reacting on impulse. He seemed so...awkward. C’mon man, get yourself together! You should've been smoother....calm the fuck down...damn...

“I like your hair down.” He stated while giving a the quip of a gentle smile.

Her lips curled up and she sighed, but let her hair fall back down. “Fine...since you are taking me out.”

It wasn’t anything special either - but, it was...it really was. He’d gone to the nearest convenient store before coming to the Harrington house. Loaded up on cheap pop and candy - he was hoping to make this worth her while. He found out that she’d been on dates before - not many - but enough to be known as the type to break your heart in a matter of seconds because - well...if you weren’t willing to meet her standards...to hell with you! He liked the challenge. He’d never been with a girl who wasn’t easy before...if anything, Y/N felt like the boss level in one of those stupid arcade games Max played (meaning he’d have to spend an arm and a leg to get Y/N to realize he was serious about winning).

“Hm? Movies?” She asked curiously as she noticed all the items he’d stocked up on.

“Nah - I figured it was too...basic. Y’know? I do only have four hours to wow you...I didn’t think an hour and a half movie, without us really talking, and sitting in the dark, would do the trick.” Good...he wasn’t saying something stupid at least...was his swagger coming back?

“Hmm, I like the way you think, Billy.” Her words falling with a soft hum.

He’d driven Y/N to a spot he’d never taken anyone - not the girl he couldn’t remember the name of, that he slept with three months ago, not the girl he snagged while riding around...etc....this...was a spot only he knew about.

His place - as he’d come to call it. He went here when his own mind was berating, irritating, and draining himself. He went here when he just needed to be...alone. Though, this type of alone...was different from the type he normally felt.

“You like the view?” He asked sincerely while popping the seal of a coke. He had previously given her his jacket, out of courtesy - as it was a little chilly...Y/N had giggled and taken it. One point to Hargrove; zip to a bad date.

“Do I like the view? Yes!” She sputtered while looking over the little town of Hawkins. “Do you come here often for a first date?” Y/N asked with a soft suspicion. She was now seated on the hood of his car, the Camaro piquing her interest lightly (it seemed it was the only thing Hargrove cared about besides his own reflection).

Billy slowly pulled the can down from his lips and shook his head.

“In all honesty, I’ve never been on a...first date. Officially.” He shrugged at her dramatic gasp of shock.

“How? -- You mean to say--,” she trailed off with a bottle of excitement ready to burst.

“I’m Billy Hargrove’s first!” She was now laughing with such life, and vigor, he wondered where the sassy little beast he’d been courting, went... He liked this side of her. Billy felt like he was privileged enough to tame her to...this.

It reminded him of a child. He was then, also reminded of how much time the Harrington duo seemed to spend with Max and her crew of misfits...maybe that’s where she got it from. Billy had never really minded (or liked) kids...but he’d take a dose of whatever the hell Y/N was on, any day.

He chuckled, shaking his head, feeling a wave of heat find his face (a very uncomfortable and unusual feeling for him). He had never been...embarrassed before. Not like this.

“My very first. I was saving it for someone special,” he played along with her, without realizing what he was really saying.

“Special? Pfft, where did that bad boy Billy Hargrove go? I...I’m not saying I want him back - but I’m questioning what you did to shut him up.”

That night was one to remember. Nothing happened...well, not what Billy normally did with girls at ten o’clock at night. Conversation had never before flown so easily. It was like, Y/N knew exactly what she wanted to say, when to say it, and how to say it. Billy could, in all honestly, listen to her talk for hours on end (four to be exact). The stars were a nice background - he found they twinkled like her own smile - her eyes shining with the same bright joy.

“Why did you try so hard...for...this?” Y/N asked suddenly, after calming from a joke he’d spewed dorkily. She wondered what was so special about four short hours with a girl like her.

“Hm?” He was resting back, watching the stars wink at one another, connecting mindless dots for infinity, while he’d listened to her beautiful laughter.

“I mean,” she started while leaning on her side to face him. “What reason did you have for...you know...even taking an...I dunno, interest? Yeah, interest - in me...,” he was floored. He’d never seen Y/N like this....was she....being shy? Bashful, even? He was pulled to attention immediately, never once, in the months of painful flirting - had she ever done this. “I mean...I’m...not very approachable - I know I can be stubborn...but I’m a Harrington -- and-d, and I’m a Harrington! Why in the hell, would you want me?” She suddenly asked with a somewhat reproving tone - finger pushing into his chest.

“Hey, hey, calm down, spitfire,” he mused while enjoying the show of the faintest of pinks on her face.

“I...I dunno. If I’m being honest,” he told truthfully.

“Oh,” she breathed.

“I mean...yeah, I kinda have a reason. But...it’s dumb. Y’know?” He said with a rushed tone.

Y/N just watched him. Clearly not knowing.

“What I meant was,” he started over while still trying to sound as nonchalant and cool as possible,” You’re...different. You know? Like...a cool...different...like someone I’d actually...I dunno...wanna be around.”

That night, was certainly one to remember. It was also, one of many...many stargazing, soda drinking, junk-food eating, late-night talks... Billy felt like he’d found something special. He felt like he’d found himself a little star, maybe it was supposed to be on its way across the galaxy - wowing someone else...but...like the human being he proved to be - he was greedy. So, Billy kept it. He kept the star close to him because he found, that when it stood beside him - it had a light that shone so bright...it drowned out his dark edges and the cloudiness of his life. He found with her, Y/N...everything...felt...right.

Never pickin' up her phone 'less it rings twice

Only answers with a question, mhh

Ring, ring--

“What?” He chuckled at her answer. It was always...what?

“I’m here - your loving, kind, caring, boyfriend - and all you ever say - is what when I call you - asking if your free tonight...” He pouted while holding the phone between his chin and shoulder, the cord hanging as he leaned down to shove his foot into his boot.

“Mhm,” Y/N responded while looking done at her filed to perfection nails.

“You’re so difficult,” he groaned while switching the phone to his other ear, moving to put his other shoe on.

“I’ve been told a few times before,” he could hear her grin. A small one on his own lips playing along.

“You gonna watch the kids tonight?” He asked remembering Max asking for a ride roughly an hour ago. He’d only agreed to take her because he knew a certain Harrington was going to be watching them (no, he wasn’t talking about The Hair Harrington).

“No, Steve said he’d take them to the movies - and I’m not interested in seeing Star Wars rewinds,” of course she’d seen them - he had learned over the three months spent with Y/N (officially as a couple - as she refused to allow him to count the three and a half months he’d spent trailing after her), that she was quite the little nerd. No wonder Max liked Y/N so much...and if he weren’t mistaken, he’d seen Henderson make googly eyes...

“So - you’re free then?” He inquired while grabbing his car keys, swinging the keychain on his pointer while he debated just hanging up now and driving over without another word.

“Hm. I suppose - but--,” the line went dead and Y/N glared at the speaker with a harsh accusation.

It seemed Billy’s eagerness to be in your warming presence had won over...the phone was hanging in its place once more - and he called for Max to go as he headed out the door, at a brisk, happy pace.

And if I try to play it cool, it never goes right

Got me drownin', drownin', uh

“Hey, Y/N/N!” The redhead greeted as Y/N opened the front door, smiling.

“Hey, Maxie! The rest of the gang is in the living room with Steve! Have a good time tonight, throw some popcorn at Lucas for me.” Her eyes were mischevious, but she seemed confused as the older girl spoke.

“You’re not coming?” “No, sorry, kiddo. Billy asked if I wanted to go out for a drive...he’s rather needy, really,” Y/N teased.

“Oh...well, he’s been awfully nice since he started seeing you.”

An eyebrow was raised in response, a glance to the Camaro in the driveway was shot to only catch Hargrove’s gaze.

“Oh, really?” “Mhm! He volunteers to take me places, and he’s not as mean. Like, I caught him humming to himself the other day when he was walking to his room...like...what was that about?” Max revealed while smirking like a devil.

“Your brother’s something, ain’t he?” Y/N noted while biting her lip, holding back a spew of words about how much of a softie he was when they were alone....like a puppy! She wanted to utter, but knowing his temper and his reputation - Y/N stayed quiet.

“I’ll say.” Max snorted. “I’m glad you like him. You’re good for him.”

Y/N grinned at the girl, ruffling her hair.

“I dunno about good, but he certainly can shape up, huh?”

Billy was getting nervous. The quick glances in his direction, the way Y/N seemed so smug and mighty...God, what did Max say? He felt his hands begin to sweat and he started scolding himself. What the hell, Hargrove? Don’t lose it now, no, no, no! She’ll know! She’ll see it! Goddamnit - she’ll fucking smell it! Like a bloodhound, she is! Blue eyes dug into you skeptically. No, bloodhound is too nice for her...she’s...she’s like a wolf! Yeah, that’s it! A damn beast - that’s after me and my blood! She’s already got my heart...what else does she-

“Asshole, unlock the car door,” Y/N’s singsong voice cut into his silent monologue. He jumped at the wheel and clumsily fumbled for the said lock. “Dork,” he heard her mumble with a snicker.

Well, there goes any and all good name of being cool...

Since she’d let him call her his - it’d been worse than any fistfight he’d ever managed. From Y/N’s own challenging, fiery attitude - to Steve’s - he wasn’t sure which Harrington he was actually dating. Her brother was always breathing down his neck, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about socking the kid in the jaw before...but he knew Y/N would not approve so he made sure to be on his...best, best behavior in the brunette’s proximity. Walking, talking, can of hairspray he was...

How she achieved in getting Harrington’s approval - Billy would never know. Though, Steve made it clear it wasn’t ‘approval’ more so - allowance... He’d said, Remember Hargrove. You mess up, even once, and I can take everything away from you. I’m not giving you permission to be with her. I’m allowing it. So you fuck up - and I take that allowance away, hear me? Billy had wanted to wring his neck, but Y/N’d been a few feet away and he’d rather not fight with her over his own pride... Yeah, yeah, whatever man. I’m a man of my word, Harrington. No need to shove your hand down my throat.

Normally, if someone ever talked to him like that - or eve thought about it - Hargrove would’ve had them pinned to a wall and beat to a pulp before they could speak another word. This time...was different (though it seemed to Billy, every time with Y/N was different). He felt like...he was drowning. It sounded odd, but, the best kind of...well...oxygen being brutally cut off from his lungs kind of drowning.

He would do anything for her...he found out through the little ways she showed herself. Touching her chin when playfully thinking, biting her lip in real concentration, tapping his shoulder when she wanted his attention, looking down when unsure, wearing her hair down because he liked it, smiling when he kissed her forehead, booping his nose because it annoyed him (in reality, he loved that she did such a silly, small thing).

Billy Hargrove was drowning. Drowning in the immense amount of love he was showered in...the care and affection Y/N bathed him in every time she smiled at him, or in his general direction. He found out he was quite similar to the schoolgirls who fawned when he walked into the room... Who would’ve known? Sure, at school he kept that hardass impress up. Being flirty with her and even throwing a wink to the passerby...picking a fight with whoever doubted him and making sure to have everyone on their toes in his presence..but even then, he changed...

Y/N found Billy flirted with her specifically to make her laugh. Chessy pick-up lines, dumb quotes, obsessive pecks and coddling in the middle of the halls. A rose or two in her locker...a love letter slipped in a textbook...he was classy. When she asked him about it, he simply shrugged. I thought you liked that kind of thing? You know, trashy notes and dying plants. Y/N knew though, that was simply Billy’s way of saying - you’re my girl...and I don’t care if you’re already mine...I’ll flirt with you anyway because I love you that much...

He also didn’t go farther than a five-second conversation with others. Normally, he’d have all the girls on their knees as he passed...but with Y/N on his arm, a simple smirk and wink would do just as well. They’re staring at you. I don’t like it. Billy had one day groaned in a whisper to Y/N, eyeing down a few glares. She only shook her head, biting her lip and looking away. In truth, everyone was looking at him. Billy Hargrove with a girl? For more than a night? Billy Hargrove denying a booty-call? Billy Hargrove no longer a ladies’ man? Billy Hargrove the jerk who likes fighting so quiet? Billy Hargrove the new King of high school? Billy Har-- the eyes were for him... Sure, she was a Harrington - so some looked in curiosity...knowing the infamous distaste between the two...but...eventually, the eyes traveled to the hunk of a man that Billy was.

Then, there were the fights. Sure, Billy tried his hand at anyone who blinked too many times at him - or decided to exhale at the same time as him - but since Y/N... the boy was always drug out of the ring before any damage was done, or before it got real bad... But Y/--! I said no, Billy. And he didn’t argue. If someone was brave enough to ask, he’d honestly answer them - which shocked them more than the answer itself. You see that woman? God -- you’d be scared to deny her too...damn Harringtons...

She asked him about all that once when they were sitting on the hood of his car, sharing a bag of chocolates (without peanuts - Billy had found she didn’t like picking them out of her teeth). “Well,” he’d started while leaning back, playing with her hair, her head rested in his lap, using his jacket that smelt of cologne, ash, and love as a blanket. “Why...do you ask?”

“You...you changed so much...-- but in a good way! I mean, I’m just surprised...like...I think even Steve is coming around..slowly..but...he’s surprised nonetheless that you’re so...different. Y’know?” Y/N had explained, quite poorly if you asked Billy. Yet, nonetheless, from getting to know her throughout the six or so months...he’d found she always got a bit flush when talking real with him. Or anyone for that matter. To him, it was perfectly flawed - because it showed how genuine she was trying to be.

“Y/N/N...you’re just...particular,” he tried slowly. The night cushioning the silence with sounds of crickets and a lull of wind.

“Whaddya mean, love?” He sighed silently, loving the way she spoke the endearing nickname with such ease.

“I mean...I learned early on...like....maybe the first night we met - that you....just....had a particular taste.” He expressed gently.

“And I was determined to be that kinda drink for you...even if it meant swapping a few rough edges.” He continued with a soft hum.

“Why, Billy?” He always forgot to mention that he loved the way she spoke his name.

“Because Y/N, you’re worth everything in this goddamn world...I’m just happy I’m exactly what you look for...even if you’ve got such a damn specific taste.” He chuckled with a laugh, his eyes twinkling like stars.

Leaning up, she reached to share a kiss with him, and he swore then and there - if she asked, he’d give her every ounce of life, passion, and love...give it all up...all she had to do was say the word.

“I think, you described it as a particular taste, Billy.”

“Very particular, darling.”

She's so particular

I'm so obsessed with her

Yeah, she's so particular

I'm so obsessed with her

Yeah, she's so particular.

She just goes

Yeah, she's got particular taste.

----

a/n: Welll, how do you like it? I enjoyed writing it! It was soooooo cute to write! Gahh! Requests are OPEN! :)

[mens-fashion-thing]

How 7 Things Will Change The Way You Approach Men's Clothing?

Looking great isn’t vanity; it’s self-respect to gain authority. Then how do you indulge yourself in the theater and joyful clothing climate? Instead of relying on splendor and ceremony, dressing in stylish ways is about the correct balance between warmth, elegance, and aesthetics. Each man in his clothing must have specific kinds of wear. But this may signify that people can't look at their ways and what their daily manner creates. You know it and other people realize when you look well. Men should skip in every common move and grab the total manhood by clothing well.

7 things must-do for men clothing

1. Avoid Over Fashioned clothing

Simplicity is the elegance of the style and contentment. They will end up with a wardrobe full of too much clothing you never carry if you spend on items just because they're over fashionable. Those were concerns which the labels faced by their moral and productive values, and which will help to boost your awareness.

It takes time for you forever to adapt to the concept of using sustainable clothing. You will also not be sure of the values of purchasing highway products. You will escape the worst style trends when your wardrobe contains classic pieces that you enjoy. Good styling outfits are going to be the common standard.

2. Multicolor makes you clown 

The scale of colors is allowed for every skin tone, which makes your look its best. Too many colors look appears to be slightly enhanced. It will not make you look slower, at the very worst. Men's fashion style includes T-shirts, hoodies, jeans, boots, and jackets. This is a soft, shiny, flashy, flexible, and casual style. To nail it, you don't need to wear bright or neon shades. Through all about, this we cannot skip the relaxing color. Smart men do enjoy the normal clothes as cheap, there is a lot you can do with decent men.

3. Wear some over clothing like Jacket

Don't fear the slender, wearing shirts from the shoulders down to the hips. For much of the winter, a moderate jacket like that will warm you up, particularly when you wear warm fabrics. The iconic jackets served as the basis for several trendy designs. Especially in comparison to other shirts, the coat is a little heavier, allowing it more comfortable.

Blazer wear with dynamic hats and footwear and stylish pants are all perfectly appropriate ways of peacefulness. 

4. Weather friendly light wear 

When the weather changes men dress like they're gone home sometimes.  Accepting fine cloth, new fabrics, or new designs in your closet is not an excuse for easing your dress code. Hard fibers appear to stick to your skin and catch sweat – adding a heat barrier around your skin and body.

A T-shirt in linen is difficult to find, especially in the summer.  This makes you happy with all the colors. Continue to wear the fabric that will lead you too lightly. A blazer and a sports jacket are not the same with all their resemblance and you do not wear them in the same way or concern for them.

5. Ironing clothes to look neat

Wrinkled clothing is okay to wear, however, some pieces that have to be ironed can still be spotted.

For example, cotton refers well to high steam and heat, but if heated to such factors, many synthetic materials could melt or blend. Not all people enjoy ironing clothing. But isn't it nice to look at clean, dry, and clean clothes? Ironing is simple logically. Even so, it is intensive and must be done with care to apply specific high heat for clothes.

6. Tucked In wear makes you gentle

Also in casual conditions, Tucked In that stays beyond the fly looks much better than a shirt. After arriving at manhood, tucked in shirt with pants makes you more appealing and important.

It would probably be on the longer or the shorter hand, but you never considered it like this.

It looks like you're trying to be too hard to get stylishly wrinkled without ending up. There are men who demand that the tucked shirt be amazing.

Starting with the sleeves is the way to iron a shirt. You may literally fall off the ironing board edge when ironing the remaining clothing. If you do it again, other parts of the shirt that you also ironed would be wrinkled. Although shorter styles need to be continually tucked in, longer also is the best option.

Because a question is a formal interview it's easier to tuck your shirt away. Understand, the first thing that people think about your gentle look.

7. Nice collar is polite 

In previous days, it was not possible to bag up it until it was completely needed with the majority of a man's shirt covered by a waistcoat and jacket or a sweater.

Early shirts with adjustable cufflinks and collars were used to tackle the issue of rare and long rinse.

A snap tab collar keeps up your tie with a snap that nearer together the ends of the brace.

This style of collar gives your clothing a classy look and is mostly worn on wardrobes.

The Eton collar is the Club collar, with short, reddish points and broad collar posture in a chic manner. All eyes tend to be drawn to an eyelet collar pin, not daily collapse choices. Though you can find high neck collar but whatever it is must be well solid inside. No wrinkled and no shrinking appear on the collar must be ensure.

 All right, since the tie is sponsored with perfectly positioned collar points. The street Jermyn extended collar has a slight bend and a shorter mark on its collar. If the scattered is not sufficient for a more formal tie knot in areas close to the Windsor collar.

A magnifying dressing sense should be every man. You're set to go if you not look well exaggerated. Ask who you are always, and then dress up yourself. Because all of these sayings are trendy formally, they are indeed more. The vital factors of class dressing are knowing how to wear, how to get the colors right, and how to wear your clothes properly. If you wearing your favorite clothes you will feel happy strong, inclined and above all glad. Perhaps notably, men have better clothing to maintain their identified body structure. You feel better when you look fine. A good outfit is appropriate for a large meeting or event allows you to feel more relaxed and prepared to perform the tasks you need. 

[zebrabaker]

The Goddess of Life, The King of Death: Chapter Three

So, I really should be studying for my biology final tomorrow, but I got inspired, and, well, here. No tag list this time, since I lost the notebook it was written in. Sorry! Send me an ask if you want me to tag you.

Allegra was stretched out, beaming at the scrying pool before her. Her servants tittered at the images playing across the water. Everything was going according to plan.

XoxoX

Lila was in Elysium. How she had fooled this many deities was beyond her, but she knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was a little draining at times, maintaining all of the lies she had told. She hadn’t been feeling well lately, but that was likely just stress. After all, she was getting married in just under a year. Speaking of, here came her dope of a fiancé. He had privately spoken to her when it was ‘discovered’ that she was the next goddess of life. He was eating out of her palm, and Lila loved it. For a while he had been uncertain whether or not Marinette really was goddess of lies and deceit. Of course, when she began to cry, he caved. The lame little flower nymph had disappeared almost twenty years ago, and would most certainly not be coming back. Only the more powerful gods were required to attend the wedding, so the little fool wouldn’t interfere. She was currently being fitted by the one and only Audrey Bourgeois for a wedding gown. She planned to descend to the Underworld later with her fiancé to choose a gem for her wedding ring, and several more for her crown. Her life was perfect. She would be named crown princess of the gods, married to Adrien, and no-one would question her.

“It’s my best work yet.” Audrey stood, setting aside her bowl of pins.

“It looks lovely, Auntie Audrey. Lila, are you ready to go choose your stones? I’ve sent Gina ahead to tell them to expect us.” Adrien gave his aunt a brief hug before kissing Lila on the cheek.

“Absolutely, dear. I can’t wait. Just eleven months and three weeks to go.” She kissed him on the tip of his nose, and went to change out of her dress. Yes, this was perfect.

XoxoX

Marinette shuffled, anxious. Her usual pastel chiton was exchanged for a deep garnet one, with silver accents. She wore a crown of wrought iron with crystal roses, and a heavy garnet colored veil covered her face. Her usual slippers had been swapped for a pair of black heels, that were enchanted to look taller than they were. She was standing in a side hall, just off the throne room. She was to wait for Alain to come and fetch her. She heard the great door open, and placed her hand on a shrunken-down Cerberus’ head. In this form, he had only one, and reached her ribs instead of towering a good six feet above her. Alain, in full Thanatos garb, appeared beside her. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he shook his head. Not yet. He reached out a thin finger, affected by the magic of his cloak, and pressed a hidden rune. The symbol glowed silver for a moment, before the wall turned transparent. There stood Adrien and Lila, bowing to Felix, who was lounging on his throne. The two stood, and Adrien began to ramble.

“Thank you, lord Hades, for granting us this boon. No-where in the three realms can jewels of the same quality be found as those here in your domain. My fiancé and I are eternally grateful, in return- “Felix raised a hand, and Adrien paused.

“This is not a boon, it’s an exchange. You get some of the rarest gems in the three realms. In exchange, I merely wish to bring my wife with me to the event. She had not set foot on Olympus before and is most curious. Thanatos!” He bellowed, and Alain squeezed her hand before disappearing, only to step out of the shadows behind Felix’s throne. Lila clearly jumped at the large man suddenly appearing.

“Yes, Lord Hades?” He knelt before Felix, head bowed and massive black wings tucked tight.

“Fetch the Lady Persephone. We have guests she must meet.” Thanatos rose, and was engulfed in a whirling vortex of shadows. He appeared beside her again, and Marinette took a deep breath. Show time.

First, she activated a rune on Cerberus’ collar, making him grow to his normal height, second, she flipped up the hood of the silken cloak she wore over her elaborate dress. Thanatos tapped another rune on the wall, making it melt away in a silver glow. Thanatos offered his arm, and she settled her hand in the crook of his elbow. She adjusted her veil once more before gliding forward. She kept her head down until she reached the steps to the throne platform. She then tilted up her chin, and removed her hood.

“Hello, husband. It is good to see you again.” Felix stood, and walked over.

“Hello, my love. I cannot express how much I missed you. I have some people I’d like you to meet.” He guided her to the throne next to his, before removing her cloak. He draped it over the back of her throne, before kissing her knuckles and returning to his throne. “My love, meet my younger brother, Adrien, god of the sun. The woman with him is his fiancée, Lila, the goddess of life.” Marinette nodded to each of them.

“I’ve never heard of a goddess named Persephone before.” Lila said, head tilted to the side.

“I changed my name when I married. My old name bore only painful memories.” She clicked her fingers. “Cerberus, come here, pet.” Adrien and Lila tensed when the huge hound trotted into the room. Marinette pointed to the gap between the two thrones, and the dog settled onto the cushion that rested there for just this reason.

“Wife? When did you two get married?” Lila’s voice was sickly sweet, and her eyes held a disturbing gleam.

“Several months ago. It was a private ceremony, just us and Thanatos, Hecate, and Charon. We didn’t have time nor inclination for some big, flashy, over the top ceremony. Too much to do down here as is.” Felix reminisced, his hand resting atop Marinette’s.

“That’s wonderful! You’re more than welcome to attend the wedding, Queen Persephone!” Adrien was beaming and beginning to glow slightly.

“Let’s get down to business. Hecate.” Felix snapped his fingers, and Allegra appeared in a swirl of lavender mist. She stepped out, holding a tray of precious gems. Behind her came several spirits, carrying heavy trays full of samples of metals and more gems and jewels. Marinette stood, and summoned a long wooden table into the center of the room. The trays were all placed along it, and the spirits vanished. Hecate gave Marinette a deep curtsey, did the same for Felix, and nodded at Adrien and Lila, who’s eyes burned with anger.

“Hecate, my friend, thank you. How goes the newest expansion?” Marinette gave Allegra a long hug, ignoring her guests.

“Well enough, ‘Sephie. Are we still on for lunch next Thursday?” Hecate pulled back, and nodded to Felix.

“Always, ‘Cate. See you then.” Allegra winked at Felix and Marinette before disappearing the way she had come.

“Oh, these are all so lovely!” Lila gushed, running a hand over the peaks of a rather large trillion cut diamond. “Adrien, what do you think?” She was holding a large emerald next to her eyes. “The right shade, or no?”

“It looks great, but it isn’t very traditional.” Marinette walked the length of the table, before choosing a large sphalerite gem, roughly the size of her thumb nail and a vivid orange. “For the next goddess of life and crown princess of Olympus, I would choose this, set in a gold band. Orange and gold, to symbolize your husbands dawn. We could do a vine embellishment along the band as well. It would be quite stunning.” Lila took the stone between her thumb and pointer finger.

“It’s lovely! Oh, we’ll take it!” Lila gushed, twisting the large stone so that it glimmered in the light of the torches. Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes. It was actually traditional for the goddess of life to wear a plain gold band with a small jade as the only embellishment, but Lila had set this appointment to look at gems. Adrien slipped his hand into Lila’s, and smiled.

“This one, then. Brother, Queen Persephone, we’ll see you at the wedding.” Stepped forward from where she was waiting by the door. As the only goddess who had unrestricted access to all three realms, she was Adrien and Lila’s ride home. She double clicked the fob to her motorcycle, and it shifted into a Maserati. All three climbed in, and they roared off. Marinette pulled off her veil with a sigh, and rubbed her temples.

“That was the single most stressful moment of my eternal life.” She groaned, and let her head slump back.

“Yes, but now the hard part is over.” Felix stood from his throne and stretched.

“That was the hard part? We still have to go to the wedding!” Marinette ruffled Cerberus’ ears, pouting.

“Yes, but we’ve established the persona of Persephone. Now all we have to do is get through the wedding and any questions from curious deities who can’t mind their own business.” He snagged a glass of nectar, and took a swig. “If I’m right, you and Claude were planning a prank on Allain, yes?” She sat up and patted all three of Cerberus’ heads and made her way to the exit. Felix watched her leave and sighed. What was he thinking?! His wife?! Sure, he wanted her to be his wife, but to pretend? How were they going to pull this off? Creation above and below, her former friend and Lila’s maid of honor was the goddess of truth and journalism!! This was so chaotic Lady Trixx herself would enjoy it.

[haunted-travellers]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GAR!! (July 19th, 1999)

All at once, the wolf stopped.

As I stood my ground, my entire body quaked in fear. That was until the wolf halted mid sprint. And it only took one look at the now dark blue and orange gradient sky to understand why.

The wolf - or Gar - began to fumble backwards, away from the rising sun. He ran farther away, running into and sometimes knocking down any trees that stand in his way. He looked confused, small whines escaped his lips as if we actually hurt him.

Crys threw open her backpack, desperately digging around and grabbing a few articles of clothing, a blanket and the golden necklace we had found earlier. She immediately picked up the clothes and begun chasing after Gar.

I step forward to follow, but Katriel grabbed me by the shoulder. “We don’t know how long it’ll take for the boy to get back his mind. We need to tread lightly, Chase.”

As they were speaking, Laurel sprinted past us and trailed behind Crys. Katriel, upon noticing she disappeared grumbled in frustration. Using their anger as a distraction, I slipped into the trees and followed the path left behind.

As I continued running off, I heard Katriel shout after me, “What the hell did I just say?”

Eventually, I caught up with the three in a small clearing. Gar, who was on the tail end of his transformation back to human was sweating and panting on the ground. Crys and Laurel were on either side of him, Crys rubbing his back to calm him down and Laurel clasping his hand tightly. The blanket Crys had grabbed covers his nude backside. Joints locked back into place and the snout descended back into his face. The dark brown fur now completely dissipated, and his silver, animalistic eyes shifted into back to normal with a small silver ring remaining around the pupils.

Something different from when I had met him before was crystal clear now. Scars draped across his entire body. Faint and small covering him from head to toe. But I definitely would’ve remembered had I’d seen these before.

“Breathe, it’s okay Gar just breathe.” Crys spoke softly as to relax him.

Katriel appeared by my side saying, “Please tell me that was the last of it. Because I don’t think we have enough time to plan a containment area for you in twelve hours.”

“Last night was the third phase of the full moon, we’ll be fine.” I reassured them.

“I refuse to be caged.” Gar growled, but it came out obviously strained.

“Well I refuse any one of us to be dog food!” Katriel snapped back.

Gar shot up, holding the blanket around his waist. In spite of the anger burning in his eyes, his entire stance swayed. Crys and Laurel both grabbed his upper arms to keep him standing, and leaned into Crys’s touch.

“You don’t have to worry about anything.” Crys assured. “Just leave, we can deal with this alone.”

“But you don’t have to!” I blurted out, quickly covering my mouth. After a moment to regain my composure, I simply stated, “Listen, we’re on a mission right now. We’ll be travelling around the continent for the time being hunting down somebody.”

“Let me guess, the white haired lady?” Gar asked, eyebrow raised.

“You met her?” Laurel asked, brushing some hair out of Gar’s face to look him in the eyes.

“Yeah, she tried to pin all of those deaths on me. Had my old pack caught wind of it, they’d hunt me down.” Gar explained.

Crys nodded, reaching into her back pocket. “It’s true. I tried to fight her on the first phase night but she knocked me down. Which is why I wasn’t there to stop Gar from attacking the girl.”

“Will she become a werewolf too?” I asked, making sure to take mental notes on lycanthropy.

“No,” he answered, looking at Crys expectantly. “Only alpha wolves can turn humans. And they hardly do that in modern times.”

Crys took out the necklace, and placed it around Gar’s neck. Before my eyes, the scars began to disappear. The silver rings in his eyes leaving along with them.

Gar put up a hand before saying, “Before you ask, the necklace doesn’t make me human. It just has a glamour effect so that the markings that identify us as werewolves don’t show. It keeps us hidden in plain sight.”

“So it’s your collar?” Laurel joked, a smug grin crossing her face.

Gar mirrored her expression, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Don’t make me kiss that smirk off your face.”

She side steps out of his grasp, which makes him stumble a bit. Laurel places a stabilizing and reassuring palm on his chest. “Nice try wolf man, but maybe a time when you didn’t try to bite off my face less than an hour ago. Unless that’s how you kiss, which means I should start running.”

“Do you guys want to tag along?” I asked, walking towards them. “I mean, I don’t want you guys to get yourselves killed but honestly we could use all the help we can get. And - not to be presumptuous - but it looks like you guys need some help of your own.”

Crys looked over at Gar, who was already staring back at her. A moment passes by as they have a silent conversation right in front of us. But eventually they both smile.

Crys broke the silence first, “Why not? We’re constantly moving anyways.”

“And I don’t think you’d guys last without seeing my pretty face everyday.” Gar’s flashy grin coming back to him.

Katriel cleared their throat, before speaking very sarcastically, “Of course, how would we ever survive.” They shook their head, making their way back to the road. But I still caught the faintest, “Great, two more kids for me to babysit.”

[kyarymell]

A Little Less “Concern for Demons”, A Little More “Touch Me”

Pairing: V x F!Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: PWP. Following a bet with Nico, you convince V to fuck you in a phonebooth. Note: Art trade fic for the beautiful @mysticalkhfan​ who drew me an ABSOLUTELY DELECTABLE Erron Black fanart. Hats off to you! I tried to fill in as many requests as possible LOL.

You were a force to be reckoned with.

Equal parts alluring and dangerous, only you could convince him to partake in debauchery in public. The pair of you were on a routine mission, clearing out some demons for a client. When the task was completed, you all but dragged him into a phone booth.

“Not this again! Let’s go, kitty. You too, boulder boy.”

V’s familiars were used to your insatiable desire for their master, already removing themselves from his person. Tattoos faded and hair returned to white, the summoner felt exposed. Unfortunately for him, this was only the beginning.

Pushing him against the glass, he gasped as you pressed heated kisses on his neck. Biting on the soft skin near his collar bone, you moved your hand to palm V through his jeans. Despite the (worry? thrill?) of being caught, he’s getting hard.

How could he not? Even if you’re too much to handle sometimes, you’re still his lover.

…You’re also pretty skilled with your lips.

“Ah-You’re getting lipstick everywhere.”

“That’s the point.”

His concern only rewards him with you kissing him squarely on the mouth, tugging at his soft hair. V yields to your attack, lost in the pleasurable sensations you’re giving him. You only let him go when he’s struggling for breath.

The aim was to have him inside you as soon as possible, lest the two of you get discovered. Leaning forward you distract him with another heated kiss, your nimble fingers working the strings of his vest. Pulling the clasp free, you step back to admire your handiwork.

The flimsy material falls to the ground, revealing more of his pale skin. For a moment he shivers, a slight chill in the air. Lipstick smeared across his mouth and neck, lips glistening with saliva, he’s sure that he’s a mess.

V can already imagine what his other self would say.

“Foolishness. Why would you leave yourself exposed and vulnerable in front of someone?”

Thoughts returning to the present, you’re moving to unzip his pants. V catches your hand, regaining enough sense to take control of the situation.  

“Do you really think you’re in charge?”

His eyes are dark, grabbing a hold of you and switching the positions so that you’re in full view if anyone were to walk by. You’re smirking because despite the fact that he’s being more impulsive, you’ve effectively convinced him to get down and dirty with you in public.

Wrapped around your little finger.

Such a prim and proper person he was, never getting involved in the grit of battle. Now, he’s making short work of your button-up shirt to access the skin underneath. Pushing the fabric up and over your head, V immediately presses kisses along your spine.

To think that this all started from a bet- he was so easy to tease.

From the debriefing, you knew it was going to be an easy job. You were busy most days, so this would be an ample opportunity to wear the new skirt you bought last week. Not the most combat-ready gear in the world but you had confidence in your abilities.

Nico left the engine off, the two of you waiting for V to arrive. Cigarette between her lips, you’re both leaning against the side of the van.

“I dunno what you see in Mr. Poetry over there. He seems so uptight- never the type to fuck in an alleyway or anything like that.”

Crossing your arms, you tilted your head curiously.

“Is that supposed to be a normal thing that happens? What brought this up?”

“In all the time we’ve been colleagues, I never thought you interested in them quiet types.”

You shrugged, a moment of silence passing between the both of you. Tapping a finger on your chin, an idea came to mind.

“Wanna make a bet?”

“You know I’m always down to gamble. But what we bettin’ on?”

“Whether or not I can get him to fuck me in public. Fifty bucks.”

Nico’s eyes were blown wide, snorting like she was trying not to laugh. Shaking hands with you, she crushed the cigarette butt under her heel.

“Sure. You’re about to be fifty bucks poorer. That’s a fact!”

When you were finally alone with the summoner, you made sure to take the most forward approach. Reserved as he is, he’s still unable to resist you on attack mode.

It started with subtle things, touching him a lot more in and out of combat. Eventually, you worked up to making flashy moves while killing demons, giving V an eyeful when possible.  

All the teasing you did throughout the day seemed to have worked, for V was riled up enough to leave bites along your shoulder and shove you against the glass. His hands are on your breasts, giving them a squeeze.

“Is this what you wanted,” he grinds his hips against your backside, “to be indecent like this?”

A hot tongue presses against your ear and you whimper in response. It’s seldom that he’s rough like this and it satisfies the masochistic side of you deep within. He’s clearly not pleased with your lack of words, for he moves to pull on your hair and pinch one of your nipples.

“Answer me.”  

“I…”

V switches tactics, tracing circles around the band of your skirt with his fingers and then moving to stroke the skin at your waist. You’re almost too distracted to answer, he’s touching too lightly for your liking.

How the tables have turned- it was your intention to turn him into a blushing mess, but you’re the one stifling moans against your hand.

The summoner clicks his tongue, lifting the back of your skirt. You shivered, feeling his fingers slide between your thighs. It’s suddenly feeling all too warm in the phone booth, your shaky breaths causing condensation to form on the glass.

“So you want to be stubborn, is that it?”

You closed your eyes, feeling V push aside the delicate lace of your panties. He slides his finger against you, before slipping it in with no resistance. The man hisses, imagining just how easy it would be to shove the entirety of his length inside you. You’re already wet with minimal touching.

“V…”

“I see. This was your intention all along. You wanted this.”

He stroked your insides painfully slow, adding another finger even when he knows you can take much more. It’s polarising, the fact that he can be domineering but still ensuring that you won’t be hurt. Then, he hits your sensitive spot.

“Please-“

He stills his fingers, making you groan in frustration. You wiggle your hips, hoping that it would entice him to continue. V smirks as he barely brushes against the spot once more.

Damn those long fingers of his!

“Please what?”

“Don’t be mean, you know what I want.”

The fingers leave you completely. That was the opposite of what you wanted to happen…!

“You must apologise.”

Pulling his cock free of his jeans, he stroked himself. Taking his turn to tease you, you felt it rub against your entrance, smearing pre-cum on your thighs. You’re trying to get him inside you by pushing backwards but the summoner has you pinned against the glass.

“F-for what?” you hate how your voice is trembling.  

“Apologise for being indecent in public and I might just consider your request.”

Play along. Play along. You were the one that got yourself into this.

“I’m sorry for acting… indecent… please V. Please fuck me-“

After what seemed like forever, V finally pushes into you- making you gasp at the sensation. He starts slow, even if you don’t need it. Thoroughly frustrated from the earlier teasing, you turn your head to face him, meeting his lips in a searing kiss.

That was all the encouragement needed, for he set a brutal pace that had you gripping the front of the glass for dear life. You whimpered when he brushed against your sensitive spot with the tip and it had you pushing back and meeting him halfway. It was deeper like this and you found yourself crying out his name…

…until you heard voices not too far away.

“Quiet.”

V pressed his partially gloved fingers in your mouth, trapping your tongue with his fingertips. A cheerful group of teenagers passed by, talking animatedly amongst each other.

The summoner just kept moving.

“Did you see the movie I recommended last week?”

The way the summoner rolls his hips are sinful and all you can do is squeeze your eyes shut.

“Yeah, I guess I cried a little…”

“Aw, really?”

Heat pools in your stomach, almost overwhelming as he nudges your legs apart. V was large despite his slim build, the burn of the stretch sending shivers down your spine.

“Hey, did you hear something?”

You tried desperately to be quiet, V holding you in place with his punishing stokes.

“No way. Don’t scare me like that!”

Please, please let them be gone…

“You did well.”

You could practically hear the smirk on his lips. What a smug bastard. Oh, you were definitely going to get him back for that.

With one particularly hard thrust, you tightened up considerably and the summoner removed his fingers from your mouth. Unable to hold back your voice, you yelped as he spanked you with his other hand, the ring adorning his middle finger cold and leaving a mark.

From there, V timed his thrusts with his palm striking your ass. His gloved hand moved to your hip in order to get a better angle. Not long now until you would come undone, your toes curling in delight. Hair sticking to your face, you whined as he pulled out completely and shoved his cock back in all at once.

“V!”

Snapping your eyes open at the sensation, you arched your back. V was seldom aggressive like this and you felt yourself melting into his embrace. The summoner was breathing heavily now, stopping every so often to leave kisses on the side of your neck.

Completely at his mercy, you felt him pound into your sensitive spot over and over again. Your legs trembled, it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold yourself up. Tears gathering in the corner of your eyes from the over-stimulation, you leaned your forehead on the glass of the phone booth.

The cold surface gives you a short reprieve, until V grips your arms, pulling them back. You’re almost sitting backwards on his lap when you reach your peak, stars bursting in your vision. It was embarrassing how fast he pushed you over the edge.

“Just… a little more…”

“Not inside!” you didn’t want anything dripping out, especially since you were wearing only a skirt.

Becoming more vocal with every thrust, you knew that he was close. Wrenching yourself free from his grasp, you dropped to your knees. Taking his length into your mouth, you swirled your tongue around the tip, hand stroking the underside. V became flustered at the sight of your ruined mascara, tear-streaked cheeks noticeable in the low light.

Losing his confident demeanour, he gently tries to pry you off by tugging on your hair.

Payback is a bitch. You loved seeing V turn suddenly shy- it was seldom that you pleasured him in this way and as a result, it had a huge effect on him. Pushing his hand away you sucked, drawing all sorts of pleased noises from the summoner. He threw his head back, biting on his lip.

Unable to hold back, he starts bucking into your mouth making you choke slightly. He tries to apologise but he’s already so close. Remnants of lipstick smudged on his most intimate parts and you couldn’t help but feel like you owned every part of him.  

“Wait, I might dirty you-“

His orgasm hits him unexpectedly when you hum and he subconsciously pulls away, leaving a mess on your cheeks. V is doubled over, leaning on the glass of the phonebooth, legs trembling and breathing erratic. Swiping your tongue across your mouth, you taste his bitterness. Smirking, you couldn’t help but crack a joke.

“Thanks for the meal.”

V runs a hand over his face, sighing. He tucks himself in and goes to wipe your face with the edge of his coat.

“So vulgar. I do not know how you were able to convince me to… do this…”

“But you wouldn’t have anyone else, would you?”

He helps smooth out your clothes, brushing stray hairs away from your face. You understand that it’s difficult for him to put his feelings for you in words, but his actions show how much he cares. Watching you button up your shirt, V holds his hands out, tattoos re-appearing on his skin.

It’s only when his hair returns to black that he runs a hand through the unruly mop to look decent once more.  Thankfully, his lust-addled brain hand enough common sense to set his cane against the wall before tangling with you. In turn, you found your weapons resting on top of the phone.

Adjusting your skirt, you attempted to wipe the ruined mascara from your cheeks. It would’ve been nice to have a reflective surface handy but you did what you could. V saw your struggle, licking his thumb and reaching over to assist you. Heart seizing in your chest at how gentle he was, you gave him a quick peck on the lips.

The summoner smiled in return.

Exiting the phone booth together, V twirled his cane around and tapped it on the pavement.

“Let us make haste to the van. We are overdue for a shower.”

“Is that an invitation?”

Griffon chose that moment to appear.

“You two are disgusting, you know that right?”

In a rare show of childishness, V rolled his eyes, opting to not humour his familiar with a response. He didn’t complain when you looped your arm around his, leaning against his side. Griffon scoffed and dissipated into ink once more.

 ---

Call it woman’s intuition (or the fact that V was bruised and covered in lipstick), because Nico immediately knew what transpired. V went to shower and you sauntered over to the driver’s seat, shooting the gunsmith a smile.

“I gotta hand it to ya, I did not see this coming.”

Leaning over, you held out your hand.

“Looks like I’m fifty bucks richer.”

Waving you off the mechanic frowned, reaching for the glove compartment. Placing a fresh bill in your hand, Nico sighed.

“Really shoulda learned after I kept losin’ to D-Dante in cards.”

[blackhakumen]

Fanfic #15: Altas Party (Part 1): Rough Start

On a clear, crystal night, the sky-like City known as Atlas, are having a celebration, and oddly enough, Ruby and the gang are all invited. The party took place at a royal like ball room, which has a bunch of tables, a local bar stand, an actual mini orchestra band, and a bunch of other stuff that a normal person wouldn't really expect an actual party to have. It's basically similar to their prom in Beacon, except a million times more flashy and fancier.

It already been a hour and a few minutes there and almost everyone was already having a good enough time. Weiss was busy catching up with her older sister, Winter, who had also attended the party, Yang was telling hilarious stories involving her and Ruby while Blake amusedly sit back and listen, Ren, Nora, and Jaune were doing some like a group dance, which involves a lot of spinning and twirling (if anyone asked, it was Nora's idea) Qrow, the only one in the group who doesn't seem to enjoy the party as much, is too busy dealing with his own problems by drinking the night away, and finally, both Oscar and Maria was sitting at a table while having a conversation about parties and whatnot.

Maria: So you're telling me that this is your first time going to these kinds of parties, sonny?

Oscar: (Chuckles Lightly) More or less. The closest thing to a party I've ever been to was a get together with My Aunt, Uncles, and Cousins. But other than that, I've never been to any fancy parties like this.... I'm actually starting to like it so far, you know?

Maria: (Smiles Softly) Well, I'm glad you kids are having a good time here. I, for one, not really a fan of these kinds of fancy parties.

Oscar: Really? How come?

Maria: It's just too flashy for my taste. Plus the rich people here aren't making it any better. Acting all snobby or whatnot....

Oscar: I don't know.....other than Weiss' brother, I don't think the people here are too bad....at least, I don't think they are...

Maria: (Laughs Proudly) You don't know how lucky you kids have it here! Well, back in my day-

Ruby: (Smiles Brightly while holding a tray of food) Guess who's back?!~

Oscar: (Somewhat Surprised) Ruby, you came back that quickly?

Ruby: Yep! The line wasn't really as long as I'd thought it'll be. Soooooo, what you guys was talking about?

Maria: You're just in time to hear another story about my youth.

Ruby: Oh my gosh, really?~ What's it about this time? It is the time you have to fight a bunch of monsters all by yourself?

Maria: Nah. It's nothing action related. (Ruby: Awwww (in disappointment) It's about the time when I-

(In the distance) Qrow: THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE ALL OUT?! 'Hic'

The trio suddenly noticed Qrow's shouting in the distance. Much to their displeasure.

Ruby: (Groans) Uncle Qrow....

Maria: Great....what's your knuckle head of an uncle is up to now?

Oscar: Well, judging by his voice, I think this might have something to do with one of the beverages being empty.

Ruby: (Sigh) And here I thought we went past this.... I'll be right back. I have a drunken uncle to talk to...

As Ruby left the table, she immediately texted Yang to help deal with their uncle's drunken behavior.

Speaking of Qrow....

Bartender: I'm sorry sir, but like I told you before, we are currently all out of the acholic beverages.

Qrow: (Grunts) Are you 'hic' frickin' serious?! How come you people ran out of alcohol that quickly?!

(In a distance) Ruby: UNCLE QROW!!!

After hearing one of his niece called out his name, the drunken reaper turned around and see both Ruby and Yang in the distance, walking towards his way. Looking rather frustrated at Qrow in question.

Yang: What the hell are you doing?!

Qrow: ('Sigh') Look, girls I can explain-

Ruby: (Upset while crossing her arms) Explain what, Uncle Qrow? That your literally causing a scene? Or maybe because your trying to drink too much after we specifically told you not to!

Qrow: Well it's not like I want to be here in the first place!

Yang: Then why did you even come with us in the first place?

Qrow: Hey! Someone has to watch over you kids for the evening!

Ruby: We can take care of ourselves thank you very much! And besides, we have Ms. Maria watching out for us!

Qrow: (Scoffs) Please. Do you really think some old lady could be able to take care of all you?

Yang: Least she does it a million times better than you can....

Qrow: I heard that!!

Meanwhile

Maria: (Groans) I could hear them all fussing their ears off all the way from here. And I'm supposed to be the old one here!

It wasn't until the old lady notice Oscar getting up from the table.

Maria: And where do you think you're going, young man?

Oscar: I'm going try to calm Qrow down. I know that might be risky, but someone gotta do it, right?

Maria: (Sighing while watching the farm boy walking away) I might as well follow the poor child. Who knows what kind of trouble those kids will get in...

Meanwhile

Qrow: If you think of a damn second that old lady is better at watching you kids more than your uncle, than you got another than-

Oscar: (In the distance) Guys!

Ruby: (A bit surprised) Oscar? What's wrong? What are you doing here?

Oscar: I thought you guys were having trouble with your uncle. So I thought I could help you guys out.

Ruby: That's really sweet of you, Oscar. But I don't think it's best for you to get involved-

Qrow: What you want now?

Oscar: (Surprised by Qrow talking to him...in a dark tone nonetheless) O-oh I umm-

Qrow: Let me guess. Ozpin told you to come by and stop our little fight for us?

Oscar: W-what no...I mean I was going to help out but Ozpin wasn't even-

Qrow: Well new flash, kid, we don't need your fucking help! In fact, I don't think anyone of us here even want you here in the first place!!

Yang: Watch it, Qrow!

Qrow: What? I'm just speaking the truth here! I'm mean it's not like any of you kids even want him to join the team in the first place!

Ruby: (Livid) That's not true and you know it, Uncle Qrow!!

Qrow: Oh please! I've seen the way you treat him. It doesn't take a damn scientist to figured that out! That farm boy's basically a lost cause at this point.

Oscar could believe what he just heard. He knows that the old Hunter was upset at him (and mostly Ozpin) for what happened outside of the train, but to go as far as to call him a "Lost Cause" .... let's just it didn't set well for the poor farm boy. And not in a sad and guilty like way, no, it's more of a irritated way.

For too long he has been blamed for something he barely even do. Being punched in the face, pinned in a wall, and being practically ignored by the rest of the group....all of this made a pretty bad impact on the boy and he already had enough of it. So while balding his fist down, Oscar begins walking slowly to drunken reaper.

Qrow: (Irritated) What do you want now, kid?! You already starting to pissed me off here! So why don't you just GET LOST-

Before Qrow was about to finish his sentence, Oscar immediately punched him directly at his stomach. This caught everyone by surprise, especially for both Ruby and Yang.

Ruby: (Surprised) O-Oscar?!!

Yang: (Surprised) What do you think you're doing?!!

While getting punched, Qrow saw the look in the farm boy's eyes. No longer was he this shy, timid child he saw back at the bar in Mistral, he saw something... different. What he saw, was hurt and complete anger.

Before he could say or think anything, Oscar pulls his collar directly to his face and begins to punch Qrow in the face so hard that he flew over a near by table.

Once that's over with, Oscar begins taking some deep breaths before calming down and eventually... walking away from the scene entirely.

Ruby: O-Oscar wait!!

Yang: (Her Lilac Eyes instantly turns red) Oscar, get your butt back here, right now!!!!

Blake: (Came to find Ruby and Yang) Yang?

Ren: (Him and the rest of the JNR trio came here as well to follow the sisters) We heard yelling. Did something happened?

Ruby: It's Oscar...he punched Qrow in the stomach and face.

BJNR: WHAT?!

Ruby: (Groans in Worry while texting Weiss to come over) Apparently Qrow said something to Oscar while trying to calm him down and before any of us have a chance to say anything, Oscar knocked him out....(then turns to Maria) Ummm-

Maria: Ah, don't worry. I'll watch over Mr. Drunk man for ya. You just go over there and stop that boy from leaving.

Ruby: Thank you.

Nora: I can't believe this....OSCAR!! DON'T YOU DARE WALK AWAY FROM US, YOUNG MAN!!!! YOU HAVE A LOT OF EXPLAINING TO DO!!!!

Jaune: Oscar Please just come back and talk to us!!

At this point, Oscar was practically too frustrated to even listen to what the others say. Or even care if all of them are following him as we speak. All he's doing now is just keep on walking to the door out of here and probably call it a night.

@miraculouscorazone

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[roserozu22]

Chapter 2 of DRAMAtical Murder

Chapter 2: Data 01: Login

Notes:I’m sorry for the short prologue, and I hope you enjoyed it too. A massive thank you to my beta Shinocchi!! In my head, I feel like everyone is very protective of Aoba, as Sei is seen weak in health, I thought Aoba could be as well (due to his headaches)

Author note 26/08/2019: I’m sorry for any typos and spelling mistakes as this hasn’t been beta checked. You can find me on Tumblr: roserozu22.tumblr.com and on Twitter under @Roserozu1

Disclaimer: See Prologue

Warning: mentions of underage rape (it’s not graphic)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

It was morning in the Old District and a twenty-three-year-old male is running like his life is on the line.  His name is Aoba Seragaki. His civilian outfit consists of a navy long sleeved top, on top of that a white and blue jacket that has an image of a brain, on one of the sleeves. He also has a blue and black glove on his right hand and a coil on his left wrist. He is also wearing blue jeans with a blue studded belt.  He is also wearing matching shoes with dark blue leg warmers. Aoba’s hair is also waist-length and has a gold coloured eyes. Around his neck, he has pink overhead headphones and a necklace that looks more like a choker with a blue leaf that says ‘ Aoba’ .

♪♫ ◟¶(⁄•˅̥•∖)⁋ ♪♬

A few hours later, Aoba was sitting on a chair, that happened to look like a reception desk.  The phone then rang, after a few minutes of talking to some pervert, and ordering parts for some All-Mate, after the pervert hung up,  Aoba’s All-Mate Ren woke up.

Ren is an old type all-mate, he looks like a Japanese Spitz Dog, he also has blue fur that’s constantly fluffy, he also has a collar with a syringe that acts like a dog tag, and Ren's tongue sticks out like he’s panting and has black eyes.

“Aoba, did you have another call about your voice?” Ren asked with protectiveness in his voice.  Which only Aoba heard and thought ‘I hoped Ren would stop being protective of me .’

♪♫ ◟¶(⁄•˅̥•∖)⁋ ♪♬

A younger Aoba is seen walking down a street while holding Ren, the teenager in question is smiling as he won a Rhyme battle, but unknown to Aoba, the participant that Aoba fought against, is secretly following him until they reached an alleyway, that was empty stabbed Aoba and quickly ran away but didn’t very far as Ren bit his ankle, very painfully and caused it to bleed.

A few days later Aoba woke up and lost his memories of fighting Rhyme and Ren then became the protective all mate that he’s known for today.

♪♫ ◟¶(⁄•˅̥•∖)⁋ ♪♬

Then Aoba’s coil went off with some e-mail and as Aoba was about to open the e-mail, he got hit on the head with some kind of bat, and then he noticed three children.  The children are siblings (and according to Aoba ‘Little Brats’). Their names are Kio Kuniyashi, Nao Kuniyashi and Mio Kuniyashi.

“What are you doing here, you brats?!” Aoba exclaimed.

“We wanted to see you miss Aoba,” Mio replied innocently.  Mio is the eldest out of the three and wears a pink and white top that fits loosely on her form and matching shorts, and she also has freckles and a band-aid on her forehead.  Her short brown hair is always decorated with pink pom poms and clips.

Aoba sweatdropped after being called ‘miss’ by Mio.

‘Sure what if I'm too small for my age of twenty-three and have a slender feminine build and have long hair,’ Aoba thought.

“I’m a male though,” Aoba corrected.

“Nope!”The two boys shouted at Aoba. “You’re a girl”.  The two boys have the same personality but have different clothing styles. As Kio is always wearing a light green and white sweater that's cut off below his chest to reveal a green striped shirt. To stay consistent with the rest of his colour scheme, his pants are also the same type of green shades as his undershirt, and his hair is always covered with a black hat that looks like a teddy bear ears.  While the other brother Nao is always wearing an oversized jacket with a mouse's face as his hoodie, and light brown shorts. His sleeves are always seen covering his hands and his short brown hair always looks scruffy.

Then the entrance to the shop opened and entered the owner and Aoba’s boss Haga.  The owner of the shop has brown hair but he covers it with a blue cap that has a symbol of the shop.  Haga’s clothing is mostly a cream coloured long sleeve shirt with the logo of his shop that is slightly covered by his light blue overall, and an overall that has a large black belt holding a large colourful fanny pack.

“Did we have any calls this morning Aoba?” Haga asked his employee.

“The same as always boss,” Aoba reported .

Haga then noticed the children and decided for his mental health ignored them and asked Aoba.

“Do you mind taking this package to the delivery works?”

“Sure I don’t mind.” Aoba replied

“After you have delivered the package you can go home.” Haga said .

After the Aoba just left the shop he heard Haga shout at the kids and looked like fire sprouting from the shop too, after Aoba muttered something about the kids not learning their lesson, he put on his pink headphones while trying not to catch his choker on his headphones, started to walk while listening to a song called ‘AI Catch’ by a band called GOATBED.

♪♫ ◟¶(⁄•˅̥•∖)⁋ ♪♬

As Aoba was walking to go to Delivery Works, a friend of his noticed him and walked up to Aoba and one of his hands went to on to the right side of the headphones and Aoba’s music stopped, which then caused Aoba to notice who stopped him from listening to his music.

“Hello, Koujaku.” Aoba greeted with great reluctance.

Koujaku is 6’1 and has navy coloured hair, with a thick fringe covering his right eye. And keeping the rest tied in a ponytail in his ponytail, he wears a hair accessory and bears a large black neck cover with a red tassel hanging off of it. He has a muscular build, his chest and abs visible through his bandages. He is currently wearing a flashy red kimono, designed with decorations such as blue leaves, blossoms and birds, along with a golden sash to hold it up. He also wore black armbands with sandals to match and white bracelets on each wrist. Underneath his kimono, he wears a pair of black jeans, the only modern piece of clothing that clashes with his traditional outfit. On his body, he wears a sarashi and other bandages around his forearms, calves and feet. Although for some reason he carries a large sword on his back.

“Hello, Aoba,” Koujaku greeted back “I see that you're going to Delivery Works?”

“Yeah, after I delivered this package, my boss said that I could finish early.” Aoba answered.

“Well be careful, Aoba a lot of bad things keep happening,” Koujaku warned.

Aoba then left after two young women flirted with Koujaku, which made Aoba very uncomfortable.

♪♫ ◟¶(⁄•˅̥•∖)⁋ ♪♬

After arriving at Delivery Works, Aoba is talking to the owner. The owner of Delivery Works is a woman named Yoshie, she is a very stout, older-looking woman. She has a fair skin complexion and wears glasses. Her hair is short and styled neatly with a yellow pin stuck to the side. She wore a white work undershirt with a light purple blouse over it and a long black skirt.

“Aoba, you didn’t get hurt on your way here?” Yoshie asked .

“No,” Aoba replied puzzled . “Why would I be?”

“Well, I heard strange rumours that a Rib-team that only criminals are walking around the streets,”Yoshie answered.

Aoba looked at Yoshie in shock and was about to say something until he heard a female squeal, Aoba looked around and saw that Clara, Yoshie’s all-mate, sat next to Ren, while poor Ren looked very uncomfortable.

Seeing that Ren looked uncomfortable, Aoba decided that it was time to leave until he was roped into trying Yoshie’s homemade cakes.  

♪♫ ◟¶(⁄•˅̥•∖)⁋ ♪♬

As Aoba and Ren left Delivery Works, both were grumbling about Yoshie and her all-mate.

Suddenly, a group of Ribsteez surrounded Aoba.

“I like your Brain Nuts Jacket miss,”One of the members with blond hair said. “Can I have it?”

“There’s one back at the station,” Aoba said in a very annoyed and sarcastic way.

Hearing that tone in Aoba’s voice, Ren growled in anger and called for one of Aoba’s friends (more like family).  As the gang members made fun of Aoba for not being in a rib-team and at the same time explaining their own team.

Then, out of the other end of the alleyway, came a young man.  The young man in question is wearing a red shirt and a studded leather jacket in red and black. Additionally, he is also wearing fingerless gloves that have small studs on the knuckles, a studded belt, black leather pants, and red shoes. As he moved closer, the boys that were surrounding Aoba could see a  teardrop tattoo, located underneath his left eye. He wore two black and red earrings on one side of his ear and also had a white symmetrical tattoo on his neck.

“Oh, my fucking god!”One of the gang members shouted. “It’s Mizuki.”

After a quick kick and a punch by Mizuki, the boys ran away with tails between their legs. Mizuki then gently took Aoba to his tattoo shop and bought him a soda, while Mizuki himself was drinking Sake.

“Aoba, why were you going home down that alleyway?”Mizuki asked with concern in his voice.

“.....”

“Aoba wanted to find a quicker way to get home, and that alleyway was the quickest way.”Ren explained .

“Aoba, you should by now, not to go into alleyways,” Mizuki lectured. “I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

Mizuki looked at his honorary little brother and remembered what he and Koujaku found when Aoba was only seventeen.

♪♫ ◟¶(⁄•˅̥•∖)⁋ ♪♬

A younger Koujaku and Mizuki are seen walking down together after helping an old lady with her bags and hair (Koujaku is a hairdresser).

“Thanks for the help Koujaku,” said a very grateful Mizuki.

“Your welcome.”

Until they spotted a teenager that looked like the age between sixteen and seventeen leaning against a wall with a very worried All-Mate on his lap, as the young adults walked towards the figure they noticed it was Aoba.

“Aoba!” Mizuki and Koujaku exclaimed as they tried to help Aoba until they noticed there was blood and semen coming out of his bum. As the boys helped Aoba, Ren explained to them that Aoba, was playing Rhyme and lost, and the winner raped him and called him his prize.

And ever since then, Koujaku, Mizuki and the rest of the adults including Ren treated Aoba like a fragile flower, which caused Aoba to be frustrated.

♪♫ ◟¶(⁄•˅̥•∖)⁋ ♪♬

After being lectured by Mizuki and told how Mizuki felt about rhyme being more popular then Ribsteez and meeting up with his two supposed fans, and at the same time running away from a crazy and corrupt policeman while all of that suffering from a really bad headache.  Aoba finally arrived home.  

Aoba’s house is a three bedroomed house. Downstairs there is a kitchen, lounge and a downstairs bedroom for Aoba’s grandmother.  Upstairs there are two bedrooms, one has a king size bed (which was for Aboa’s parents before they died) that is always empty and one with a single size bed and has computer on the floor, a jacket and a cap hanging on the door, there is also a door that leads out to the veranda where Kajoku smokes.

After a quick dinner with Tae and another lecture by Tae but this time about closing the front door, when he leaves for work.  

Aoba went to his bed and quickly fell asleep while dreaming about a certain someone giving him the choker that he wears every day (and never takes it off).

The next morning, Aoba was seen at a familiar house and was forced into a rhyme game, with some person that dressed up as a rabbit, after a few hits Aoba muttered something disturbing  that sounded like "destruction and death.”

[ardentlytrans]

22 and any of your dnd character + someone from that campaign?

22: "I think this person is following me, please walk me home"

Me? Making a modern AU for my dnd characters? More likely than u’d think 

Normally, it wouldn’t be something Einkil worried about. He was an imposing enough figure, short but hearty, and he wasn’t dressed too flashy. It hadn’t been a very fun party, and he’d decided to forgo his sister's car in place of the twenty or so walk, just to get the fresh air. The town was beautiful at night, if dark, but he until a moment ago had been taking his time barefoot through the grass beside the sidewalk, toes splashing in puddles from the recent rain. 

He might have been a little jumpy because at some random noise he looked over his shoulder, and what might have been just someone walking or even a cat over in the park caught his eye, and his feet picked up pace.  

Einkil really didn’t have anything to be afraid of. He repeated this to himself several times as he moved from grass to pavement, bag hitting his hip a little harder with each step. The threats against his father were vague and likely backless, and he hardly looked anything like the elder Stonespeach, he and his sisters took after their mother. And it would take quite a discerning eye to pin him as gay, even his piercings were near invisible in the dark, there was nothing outward about him that should incite any harm. 

Einkil glanced behind him again, registered that there certainly was some kind of shadow a few blocks behind now, and very pointedly did not break out into a run. 

The clearest and nearest solution, since he was still a good ten minutes from home, was to take a left and a few blocks and pass by a strip with a few shops and bars. It was largely to touristy an area for Einkil to pay much mind to, but at this hour it would have people, probably, and bodies to get lost in. 

The strip, however, was dark. 

A friendly sign out front of the nearest restaurant proclaimed that there was scheduled power maintenance that day and the next, and all businesses would be closed. There were a few street lights on, and it was by the graces of one a block and a half down that Einkil saw a figure emerge from a darkened shop, a tall white building that Einkil faintly remembered being a bookstore. He takes off towards the figure at slightly too fast a pace to be considered casual. 

“Hi, sorry, I think this person is maybe following me, could you please walk me home? It’s only ten minutes away.” Einkil pants all at once, bare feet sliding to a stop. The man - a tall elven character with jet black hair - tilts his head in surprise, widens his eyes a bit, and leans out past Einkil for a moment, looking down the block. 

“Dear, I don’t see anyone, but sure, of course.” A firm hand finds Einkil’s shoulder, ice cold for some reason despite the pleasant night, and Einkil tries not to lean into it as he catches his breath and puts one foot in front of the other, guiding towards the manor. 

“Thank you, I might just be on edge, but I’d rather be safe than...” Einkil trails off, but the hand on his shoulder squeezes slightly. 

“Really, I trust you, I’m headed this way anyway.” The hand drops as they turn a corner and start up the hill, the elf tucking his thumbs into the pockets of his high collared jacket. Einkil nods and breaths. 

“I’m Einkil, Stonespeach.” Einkil extends a hand to the side, keeping their pace. He earns a pleased smile. 

“Tirion.” The man doesn’t offer more than that, which Einkil feels is fair, they are complete strangers. He is thankful though, and his head is pounding a bit, and he very much doesn’t want to look behind them but he makes himself. There’s no figure visible, the lights of the town retreating slightly as they trek past growing estates. Einkil turns back and watches his feet for a minute. 

“I haven’t been up here in quite some time,” Tirion says through the quiet. He’s looking up at the stars, brilliant with Itiiraes magic and rules about light pollution. Einkil smiles up at the sky. It’s not something he’s thought about too much, but it is a nice view, sparkling lights of the city mirrored in the blackness of the sky. 

“I’ve been here a few years, I miss the countryside, it’s even more beautiful.” Einkil smiles. He wishes he had time with work training to visit the hillsides again,  but unless he was to use his sick leave, he doubts he could. 

“I’m sure.” Tirion turns and gives Einkil a smile. Einkil returns it. 

The rest of the walk goes quietly, up until they arive at the gates. The manor is dark, both Viet and Amber being back at the party and father, like usual, at work, but Einkil fumbles with keys in his pocket for a second and finds the control for the gate. He faintly sees Tirion’s brow tilt up. 

“Nice place.” The elf shuffles at the gravel of the path. Einkil fiddles with the keys and nods. “Well, uh, come by the shop, if you ever are around. I have a card.” Tirion pats at his coat for a moment before producing a slightly crumpled business card. The card depicts the white tower of the shop, a splash of color behind it, and the words “Feywild Bookstore” in fancy font. Einkil stifles a smirk. Leave it to him to stumble upon a shop owner and store themed after a nerd interest of his. He pockets the card and steps past the gate, turning and nodding at Tirion before it fully closes. 

“I’ll do that.” Tirion nods back, tucks his hands back in his pockets, and turns away down the hill. Einkil watches him leave, thumb softening the edges of the paper in his pocket.