#any word that starts with the sound ri feels smooth

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

So im gonna start going by Riley

Been thinking it over for a couple weeks and it feels right. Like I've never been a fan of my legal name. Its never felt like me. Also my synesthesia gives some words a texture and for some reason Olivia has an AWFUL texture. And its almost physically painful to say it out loud and it always has been. Hearing other people say it isn't as bad but it still makes my ears tingle a bit so its not pleasant. Olive doesn't have the same feel so I was alright using that for a while but its still never felt like me.

And I tried to think of a new name for myself as a kid but I still thought I was supposed to be a girl back then so I was trying to come up with girls names and none of those ever felt right either.

But Riley's more gender neutral. And ive always liked the name Riley. Ive never wanted kids but I always thought that if I had a kid I'd name them Riley. And then I was trying to think of a new name for myself again and I was like "....I have absolutely no interest in having kids. Why don't I just...name myself Riley."

Like why save it for a kid thats not likely to ever exist, right?

[tonguetiedraven]

bonrin language fun and making out? passionate please <3

I love the idea of Ryuuji teasing Rin with other languages. It's so much fun.

— — — — —

Ryuuji was speaking French. Rin hadn’t known Ryuuji could speak French.

And ugh, it was gorgeous. 

Rin couldn’t understand any of the words. Hell, he couldn’t even tell where one word ended and the other began. It would be all breathy and musical, and then a few throaty syllables would slip in and Rin would find his attention fully snatched and present again. 

The not knowing what was being said just added to the strange allure. He couldn’t predict where it was going and just listened with his heart thumping. There was confidence and comfort too, and damn, that was one of the sexiest things. Ryuuji’s confidence was the first thing Rin had ever noticed about him, and every time he got a glimpse of it he found himself feeling like he was that boy glimpsing over his shoulder for the first time to see who was that bold about a test and finding his breath knocked out of him all over again.

So yeah, Ryuuji was speaking French because he could and he was a dick. A sexy and talented dick. It wasn’t like he knew Rin was standing there watching him, but he probably would still do it even if he did know because he was aware of how hot Rin found his voice. (Because Rin had told him in a weak moment when Ryuuji was growling in his ear and doing something to Rin’s tail that would have made him confess absolutely anything.)

“Merci!” Miss Angeline gushed, smiling like Christmas had come as she squeezed her cat fur covered bag closer. “It’s so rare that I get to speak French!”

“Je vous en prie.” Ryuuji dipped his head in a polite bow as he spoke. Practically oozing politeness. They didn’t have her class anymore, but that didn’t stop Ryuuji from still being the model student. 

Miss Angeline smiled, told him she was proud of how he’d handled himself in the Kumiyama mission, and then she was finally walking away. Rin waited exactly three seconds for her to walk away while Ryuuji pulled is phone out (probably to look for a message from Rin to see why he wasn’t there.)

That was Rin sprang on him. He rushed down the hall before Ryuuji could look up from his phone, and had him crowded against the wall in the next second. 

“Ri—”  

Their noses bumped a little as Rin went in for the kiss, but it didn’t stop him from sealing their lips together. 

Kissing Ryuuji… Rin hadn’t had a lot of experience outside of Ryuuji, but it wasn’t like kissing anyone else. It made him feel alive and hungry and it was something vital. He needed it like he needed Ryuuji. This kiss was fast and frantic — Rin’s kisses always started off fast and frantic, and it wasn’t his fault that his boyfriend was so hot — but Ryuuji took it over, turning it into something slower and almost languid. Something indulgent and warm (and perfect.)

Rin found himself relaxing into it as he flexed his fingers, feeling the scrape of facial hair against his palm and the shifting of Ryuuji’s jaw with every motion. Ryuuji’s hands (such broad hands that always made him feel secure) had his hips well caught, hugged close and certain as Ryuuji licked across his lower lip. Ryuuji’s tongue licked over his bottom lip, Rin growled a bit happily and opened his mouth, relishing the smooth slide of his tongue against Ryuuji, dizzy with the warmth and smell and taste of him. 

A door opened up somewhere and Ryuuji pulled away with a small cough, blushing and warm, and Rin had to suck in a deep breath. He swayed a little, feeling a bit dizzy and kind of forgetting what he’d been doing before Ryuuji’s lip. 

Ryuuji’s forehead dipped down to rest against his with warm breaths brushing over his lips. 

“What brought that on?” Ryuuji asked roughly, and the gruff sound of his voice had Rin’s eyes springing back open because that was right!

“You speak French.” Rin didn’t care if he was growly. 

“Oui?” Ryuuji asked, effortlessly switching back. “Qu—”

Rin whined and pushed Ryuuji back into the wall. “Damn it, you know—”

Ryuuji’s eyes went wide. “Oh!” He swallowed, and the confusion seemed to slip into delight. “Oh.” He slipped his hands around Rin’s hips, resting just over his ass and brushing against where he’d wrapped his tail around his waist. 

“Ça te plaît?”  Ryuuji asked with an evil and delighted gleam in his handsome eyes.

A glance down the hall showed it empty, but Rin didn’t trust it to stay that way. He let Ryuuji’s face go and forcibly grabbed his hand instead. He pulled him away from the wall and towards the closet a few feet away. Ryuuji reached out for it, and with a twist of his wrist, pushed the door open. His dark eyes intense.

“Tes yeux, j’en rêve jour et nuit.” 

What? Dirty talk? In French?! 

The noise Rin made was extremely embarrassing. He got them in the closet, shoved the door shut, let his tail loose, and pressed up against his boyfriend’s.

“J’ai envie de toi.”

Rin wanted to taste the words. He wanted to feel them. He pressed a kiss to Ryuuji’s lips, just a quick one, just to taste, and then he pressed open mouthed kisses down the strong column of Ryuuji’s throat. 

“More,” he growled as Ryuuji tipped his head back so Rin could have access to everything.

“Je t'aime,” Ryuuji gasped, “-Rin, je t'aime—”

Rin kissed along his throat, feeling the vibrations and swallowing them down. The intimacy of the act (Ryuuji trusted him this close and trembled when Rin’s fangs dragged over his pulse. Not from fear. From want.) was enough to make his heart feel like it was going to beat right out of his chest.

Ryuuji’s hand tangled in his hair. “Amour de ma vie.” 

Rin followed the pull of Ryuuji’s hand and tilted his head up, his lips finding Ryuuji’s again, hands slipping under Ryuuji’s uniform jacket, annoyed at the sweater stopping him from feeling Ryuuji’s warmth. Ryuuji’s tongue hot and almost filthy in RIn’s mouth. He whimpered again — Ryuuji always brought them out in him — and couldn’t stop the way his entire body seemed to respond. His body was warming from rising flames, his toes were curling in his shoes and his claws were growing a bit, poking into Ryuuji’s sweater as he curled his other hand around Ryuuji’s hip, feeling the swell of his ass and wanting. 

Ryuuji eased back with a final nip to Rin’s bottom lip, leaving Rin’s mouth feeling buzzy with pleasure and the slightest hint of pain. He couldn’t quite open his eyes, savoring the feeling of Ryuuji’s hands on him and the low murmur of words that were still coming from Ryuuji. 

“Craquant,” Ryuuji’s knuckles brushed over his cheek. “Je veux être avec toi pour toujours.”

His eyes opened with a jolt as Ryuuji gave his neck a light teasing lick. His beard scraped over Rin’s adam apple, and then he shifted over and up, and Rin’s legs turned to utter jelly as Ryuuji focused his attention to the spot there. Ryuuji set to sucking a bruise to life on the delicate skin, and Rin flickered to light. He dug his fingers into Ryuuji’s shoulder, panting as Ryuuji’s lips and teeth worked the skin. He pulled away with a final deliberate breath of cool air that had Rin dizzy and hungry and regretting his choice of a closet when they oculd have already been back at his dorm. 

“Votre cœur bat la chamade,” Ryuuji hummed, leaving one last kiss to the throbbing skin. 

Rin growled, pulled their bodies flush together, and swallowed down Ryuuji’s moan. He pushed himself forward with a bit too much force, crashing into the wall too loudly and probably causing Ryuuji some pain, but Ryuuji didn’t break the kiss. He just took Rin’s mouth, biting and teasing and making Rin’s tail thrash as he tried to get more. Tried to close what space there was between them. 

And abruptly he had to pull back, too hot, too needy in a closet with flames building up all around him. He wanted to feel Ryuuji’s bare skin warm and yielding against his own, and if he didn’t get immediate control he was going to burn away all their clothes and he did not want to make that text to Yukio (again) and he didn’t want Ryuuji to have to make that text to Konekomaru (again.)

“Rin?”

“We gotta go.” He kept his eyes closed, knowing if he looked at Ryuuji’s gorgeous eyes and kiss swollen lips and the hickey that would be blooming on his throat and his clothes disheveled, that there would be no hope for his flames.

“Oui?”

“Ryuuji—”

“Alright,” a laugh that had Rin’s heart thumping with emotions that were always a little too strong, “I’ll stop.” Rin nodded and groped for the door knob as Ryuuji leaned down to whisper a few last words. “For now.”

Translations:

A/N: I don't speak French but I have tried to be accurate.

Merci = Thank you Je vous en prie = You're welcome (formal because Ryuuji) Oui = Yes? Ça te plaît = Do you like it? Tes yeux, j’en rêve jour et nuit = i dream about your eyes day and night. J’ai envie de toi = I want you Je t'aime = I love you Amour de ma vie = love of my life Craquant = Gorgeous Je veux être avec toi pour toujours. = I want to be with you forever. Votre cœur bat la chamade = Your heart is racing.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Research

Ririka Momobami x She/Her Reader (feat. Kirari being a nuisance)

A/N: Ririka’s relationship leaves Kirari feeling a bit envious and curious. Never a good combination. I think Kakegurui Kari ruined me from ever characterizing Kirari in a proper way. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy! Word Count: 3,456 (what are the odds?!)

“Ririka, how is it that you and (Y/n) are already in the hand holding stage of your relationship?” Kirari had asked out of the blue at dinner whilst swirling her drink, watching the liquid spin around.

Ririka recognized that look in her sister’s eyes. It was a dangerous one, boredom. And if there was one thing the older twin knew about how her sister dealt with boredom, it was to stand back as far as possible and disappear into the background. She couldn’t not answer Kirari though, that would just pique her interest even further. So, Ririka assumed the best disinterested face she could muster and answered her sister’s odd query.

“(Y/n) brushed her hand against mine one day when we were walking in the school forest. We looked at each other and we just sort of gravitated towards each other. Now it’s just something we do.” Ririka shrugged before savoring the last bite of her meal. Unfortunately her answer did not yield the desired effect as Kirari leaned forward a bit in her chair, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“So you’ve communicated your intentions telepathically. How does one go about achieving that in a relationship?”

Ririka swallowed, wishing she could have chewed just a bit longer on the delicious morsel. “Not at all. We just... read each other’s cues.”

“So it’s like gambling?” Kirari asked, intrigued.

“In a way, I suppose.” Ririka said. She didn’t think so, but if there was one thing her fish brained sister understood, it was gambling. It was just about the only reference she understood besides those related to outer space, baseball and the ocean so naturally, she applied it to everything.

“Hmm, I see.”

Ririka had a moment when she thought Kirari was satisfied and was about to excuse herself to her room. Unfortunately, Kirari wasn’t quite done with her yet.

“So will you use the same method when you share your first kiss as well?”

Ririka fumbled with the silverware before she could place it back on the table. A fatal mistake in the presence of her twin.

“You’ve already kissed then? My, Ririka, you’ve only been together a couple of months. Aren’t you moving a little too fast?” Kirari asked, an amused and all knowing smile pulled at her blue stained lips.

“I assure you my relationship is moving at a normal pace. (Y/n) has been wonderful and hasn’t pushed me into anything before I was ready.”

“Is (Y/n) often the one to make the first move then?”

“If you must know, she is. She has more experience than me when it comes to these things.” Ririka answered, eyeing the grand clock none too discreetly. She hoped Kirari would lose interest soon.

“I see, more experience then.” Kirari nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Ririka sighed, “If you won’t be needing anything else, then I’m going to my room.”

“There was one thing.” Kirari spoke, pausing Ririka in her tracks. “I will be needing the mask for tomorrow. There is something I must observe.”

“Very well.” Ririka answered plainly. She knew if she turned the questions back on her sister she’d be met with riddles and she was too tired to decipher them tonight. Ririka leaned over the large table and set her mask in front of her sister. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Kirari grinned, pulling the mask up to her face just enough to cover her chilling smile. It was an action that was completely performative, that much Ririka knew. If only she could understand just what her sister was up to.

Ririka simply continued on her way, getting ready for bed in her en-suite bathroom before falling into bed and wrapping herself up like a burrito. She reached her arm out for her phone and pulled it into her cocoon, smiling as she read (Y/n)’s goodnight text. She sent one of her own and was about to put her phone back on her charger when she remembered she wasn’t going to be herself tomorrow and frowned. She messaged (Y/n) again to fill her in on the switch as she usually did when they came up. It was something she really felt compelled to do after she and (Y/n) started dating. The last thing Ririka needed was for Kirari to upset (Y/n) while masquerading around as herself. With her message sent, Ririka put her phone back on her nightstand and curled further into her burrow of blankets.

***

(Y/n) walked through the main gates of Haykkaou Academy the next morning, breezing right past the students loitering around, not quite ready to enter the property for one reason or another. Usually Ririka would be waiting nearby, but sadly this was not going to be one of those days.

(Y/n) decided she’d head right into the school and do some work at her desk or maybe gamble with her classmates if they were paying something that caught her interest. She had just finished switching her shoes at her cubby when another pair of feet stopped right beside her.

Craning her head, (Y/n) was very surprised to see a familiar theatre mask smiling down at her. A sight that she had grown used to over the past couple months she had been dating Ririka. (Y/n) stood up, confused but no less delighted by her girlfriend’s sudden appearance.

“Hey! I thought you said you were busy today.” (Y/n) said.

“...” Only a small crackle of static as Ririka took a breath reached (Y/n)’s ears.

“What’s up, is your sister driving you crazy again this morning? Is that why you’re here and not in the council room?” (Y/n) asked, closing her shoe cubby. She knew Ririka wasn’t much of a conversationalist so she wasn’t particularly bothered by the silence, but a, ‘good morning’ would be nice at the very least.

She did not receive a greeting, just a blank stare through the black holes of the mask.

“Well, I was going to go to our classroom and hang out until class started, but if you’d rather go somewhere more quiet we can do that too, what do you think?” (Y/n) asked.

“Let’s do what we normally do together in the morning.” The distorted voice replied. Not that (Y/n) could know for sure, but it almost sounded commanding.

“...Okay then. I’ll just have to change my shoes again real quick.”

(Y/n) changed her shoes and started walking back to the courtyard, pausing momentarily to give Ririka a questioning look as the masked girl watched her move.

“Ririka, are you doing alright?” (Y/n) asked. She felt like she was playing twenty questions without getting any hints.

Ririka tilted her head just slightly before falling into step beside (Y/n). Her knuckles brushed (Y/n)’s hand and made the other girl stare at her oddly from her peripheral but other than that, they continued through the students coming into the school as they left. Ririka was intermittently bumping hands with (Y/n)’s in the process until she surprised (Y/n) by taking her hand completely.

Ririka hardly ever was the first to initiate contact, much less when other students were around to witness it. Even when the president had happened upon them, Ririka would get flustered and shrink away. Now here they were in front of the school’s main entrance surrounded by students, and Ririka had scooped up her hand and laced their fingers like it was nothing. Her hand wasn’t even clammy or shaking at all. Needless to say (Y/n) felt that something was off with Ririka today. In fact, she would bet big money that the person holding her hand right now wasn’t Ririka at all!

(Y/n) knew about the twins tendency to switch off whenever Kirari deemed it necessary, but never had the president bothered with (Y/n) while pretending to be Ririka. Just what was the president doing? (Y/n) decided she’d play along for now, to hold her cards close to her chest until she figured out Kirari’s game. (Y/n) doubled down, curling her fingers over the incessant imposter’s hand.

Once they arrived at their destination, a secluded part of the school forest away from the noisy courtyard, (Y/n) assumed her usual position sitting with her back against a grand old tree. Testing Kirari, she patted the free space between her legs, intending for the president to sit with her back to (Y/n)’s front. Then they could listen to the songs of the forest as (Y/n) normally would with Ririka. Speaking of which, (Y/n) was going to have to apologize for showing Kirari their secret spot. Honestly, Ririka would probably not be too pleased about any of this situation but (Y/n) just had to find out why the president was doing this.

The masked figure loomed above (Y/n) for a moment before beginning her decent, but to (Y/n)’s shock, the other girl took the cue as a signal to straddle her so they were both facing each other. Years of gambling helped (Y/n) hide her horror well, as she smiled the fakest smile to ever exist. Just who the hell did the president think she was? Well, she was trying to be Ririka, but was failing miserably.

Swallowing her urge to lash out at the younger of the Momobami twins, (Y/n) continued to pretend nothing was wrong and continued her reconnaissance, resting her hands over Kirari’s thighs.

“Anything on your mind, Ri? Do you need something?” (Y/n) asked, feeling proud of how smooth and unassuming her voice sounded.

Another crackle of air and a tilt of the head was the only reply (Y/n) received. Really, it was like Kirari didn’t know how to be Ririka at all beyond the mysterious vice president. When Ririka took on Kirari’s role, she did so extremely well. It kind of scared (Y/n) how well Ririka could impersonate her twin. The same could not be said for Kirari. She didn’t seem to know how to act like Ririka at all. At least, not in this instance.

It was a bit infuriating really, to think Kirari actually thought she was getting away with her little charade while putting in so little effort. (Y/n) was about to tell Kirari to get off of her when a hand reached up between them and pulled at the mask, slowly lowering it to hover just above the president’s nose.

Perhaps she wasn’t too bad after all. Downcast eyes, timid yet deliberate movements, even the faint flush of her cheeks seemed legitimate and for a second (Y/n) almost believed her. Almost. But the amusement that seemed to be ever present in the younger twin’s eyes could only hide so deep in crystal blue irises.

“I need you. Show me, show me how you take charge.” The twin’s voice whispered, taking in the cadence of her sister with frightening precision. Yes, the tone was good but the words were so wrong. Ririka would sooner shoot herself in the foot than say something she would consider so embarrassing.

Just what the hell was this girl after? What was she gaining from this torment? Was this some kind of gamble and depending on (Y/n)’s reaction, could be someone’s undoing? What was the right move to make?

“(Y/n), please. Kiss me like we’re doing it for the first time again.”

“What the hell?” (Y/n) couldn’t keep it in anymore, if someone was losing a bet right now she was sorry, but she could only handle so much ridiculousness. “What game are you playing, president?”

(Y/n) tried to wiggle out from underneath Kirari but she held firm, the facade she had put up melted quickly as she allowed the mask to drop on the ground beside them and pushed (Y/n)’s back firmly against the tree trunk with one hand as she grinned down at her fellow classmate. The effect wasn’t quite the same without the striking blue lipstick but it was still enough to make (Y/n) shiver.

“So you did figure it out. I was wondering why you would be holding out on me. I was beginning to think my dear sister was wrong about you.” Kirari mused, eyes glinting. “The only other person that can tell us apart is Sayaka, what gave me away?”

“First, get off of me.” (Y/n) said, making a shooing motion between them that made Kirari giggle as she stood up. “Second, you have to tell me what your goal was in all of this.”

“My goal hmm?” Kirari tapped her chin thoughtfully as (Y/n) got up from the ground as well. “Well, quite simply it was for research.”

“Research about what?”

“About your relationship with my sister.” Kirari answered.

Like that made anything any clearer. (Y/n) pressed a hand over her forehead, the other a firm fist against her hip, “but why?” She asked.

“I think I’m entitled to having my curiosity sated now.” Kirari said instead, looking over her plain, pale nails.

(Y/n) pushed an audible huff of air through her nose, choosing to cross her arms tightly over her chest instead and even going as far as to tap her shoe against ground. Kirari actually rolled her eyes at the display, an action the president wouldn’t give the general masses the pleasure of seeing lest she appear too human.

“I just don’t understand how you and Ririka have only been together for three months and you’re already holding hands and kissing when I’ve been with Sayaka for nearly two years and we have done neither. Ririka said you were the more experienced one, I thought I could learn something from observing you.”

“Wait, you and Igarashi are actually together?” (Y/n) couldn’t believe her ears. Igarashi obviously worshipped the ground Kirari walked on but (Y/n) had always found it hard to understand if Kirari was just stringing her along or not.

“Of course we are. I didn’t build that tower for just anyone.”

Ah yes, Ririka had told (Y/n) about the tower. What lunacy. She would be surprised if Igarashi truly understood what Kirari was going for there.

“Did you actually ask Igarashi to date you point blank or did you just imply it? You should know how her mind works by now.”

“But I don’t. That’s what makes her so spectacular.” Kirari sighed pleasantly.

“Well trust me, if you make your intentions absolutely clear I’m sure you’ll see some changes in your dynamic. Tell you what, let’s go to the student council room and sort this all out now before classes start.”

“Are you hoping for a seat on the council? Is that why you want to get involved?” Kirari smirked.

“I’m just trying to help my girlfriend’s sister so she doesn’t pretend to be her in my presence ever again.” (Y/n) shook her head and started to walk back to the school. She took out her phone and texted Ririka to let her know they were en route, “and I knew it was you because Ririka doesn’t act like that with me. I will not elaborate because the last thing I need is for you to get anymore funny ideas.”

Kirari hummed with amusement before placing the mask back over her face and together they made their way back to the school and up to the council room. Thankfully Ririka must have been able to end the meeting early because only she and Sayaka were left in the room.

“Oh thank god,” (Y/n) sighed walking over to Ririka’s side to rest her forehead against the older twin’s shoulder, making her blush and ruining the carefully crafted persona of her younger sister.

“What are you doing?” Sayaka said indignantly. “You can’t just come in here whenever you wish. Anyone with council business could come in and think you were involved with the president instead of the vice president!”

“Sit down Igarashi, I’m about to do you the biggest favor of your life.” (Y/n) said, lifting her head from Ririka’s shoulder to point at Kirari as she removed the theatre mask and placed in on the table. “Kirari wants to date you.”

Sayaka blinked, processing the words before her skin turned beet red, equal parts embarrassed and angry.

“That’s not funny, Senpai!”

“It’s not a joke! C’mon Kirari, tell her.” (Y/n) said before cupping Ririka’s ear to whisper, “If this doesn’t work out, I’m gonna scream.”

“It’s true Sayaka, though (Y/n)’s approach seems dull and predictable, it has come to my attention that you may not understand that I wish to be with you,” Kirari glided forward, her hair flowing behind her like a curtain, her hand outstretched to Sayaka, “so, hold my hand Say-a-ka, and be mine.”

“Uh oh.” (Y/n) and Ririka muttered in unison as Sayaka babbled, her head moving jerkily between Kirari’s face and her outstretched hand before her knees buckled. She almost hit the ground but Kirari caught her just in time, grinning down at her secretary.

“I told her to sit down.” (Y/n) said, shaking her head.

“It appears that Sayaka needs a nap. You two can head to class, I’ll watch over her.” Kirari said, placing the unconscious secretary on the couch.

“Sure, you just want an excuse to stay out of class.” (Y/n) turned her attention back to Ririka, still in her sister’s make up, braids and annoying ruffled shirt. “Come on Ririka, let me help you get changed real quick.”

“Okay.”

Ririka grabbed her mask from the table and together they headed to one of the side rooms off of the main council room where the twins kept their spare uniforms. While (Y/n) helped Ririka gather her belongings and remove the fresh blue nail polish and smooth out her hair, she told Ririka all about Kirari’s invasive behavior.

“So yeah, it was super weird but I guess it was worth it if it means she’ll be too busy with Sayaka to be too interested in what we’re doing.” (Y/n) explained, brushing Ririka’s hair into place. On the last stroke, she reached in front of Ririka to put the brush back on the table and as she went to withdraw, her wrist was gently encased in Ririka’s hand.

“Ri?”

Ririka tugged on (Y/n)’s arm until she sat down on the bench beside her. It took (Y/n) everything she had not to giggle once she registered the sweet pout the older twin was sporting.

“You held hands with my sister,” Ririka grumped, “you held hands with my sister and let her sit in your lap.”

“Yes, very begrudgingly I did. Only because I wanted to know what she was trying to do, but I promise it’ll never happen again.” (Y/n) spoke seriously.

“Good.” Ririka sighed, resting her head on (Y/n)’s chest, making her laugh.

“We can’t stay here all day. We have about fifteen minutes before we have to get to our classroom and you still haven’t changed your blazer and shirt.”

Ririka whined quietly before tilting her head up to look at (Y/n). “May we, first could you,” Ririka bashfully tapped her lips, still stained with blue, “you know.”

“Happy to,” (Y/n) tucked a strand of Ririka’s hair behind her ear, “let me just wipe that lipstick off first.”

Softly but thoroughly, (Y/n) ran the cleansing wipe across Ririka’s lips a few times until all that remained was muted pink. Then she dabbed at them with a wet washcloth so no trace of the bitter tasting makeup remover remained. As soon as she removed the cloth she leaned in, meeting Ririka lips with her own.

(Y/n) pulled away after a moment, a smile splitting her lips upon witnessing the relaxed and dreamy look on Ririka’s face, her cheeks dusted in a pleasant pink color that complimented her bare lips.

“I’ll wait for you to finish changing and we’ll walk to class together, okay?” (Y/n) said softly.

“One more first, please.” Ririka asked, pulling (Y/n)’s blazer to bring the girl closer.

“Of course.”

Another kiss and the fifteen minute buffer before class became eight minutes and they had three floors worth of stairs to climb. (Y/n) waited for Ririka to finish changing in the hall. She would have waited in the main area of the council room, but Kirari was sitting on the council room couch with that little smirk on her face. Her calculating eyes watching (Y/n) move across the room as the president patted Sayaka’s hair while the secretary remained unconscious with her head in Kirari’s lap.

When Ririka emerged, mask set into place, (Y/n) looked down both ends of the empty hall. When she was satisfied that no one was around, she pulled the mask to the side, surprising Ririka and making the vice president’s breath hitch.

“What?” Ririka asked.

“Just making sure.” (Y/n) replied, kissing Ririka’s nose before covering Ririka’s glowing face with the mask once more.

(Y/n) took Ririka’s hand and they jogged up the stairs, managing to slide into the classroom moments before the teacher.

[raibebe]

Sugar and Spice

Genre: smut Words: 2.175  Prompt: sugar baby Jeno x older female reader Warnings: semi-public sex, unprotected sex, dominant reader, slightly subby Jeno

A/N: No, I am still not over Lee Jeno, thank you for checking in. This is dedicated to all the anons who said they liked the last Jeno thing...

The last thing you had thought that would happen at your boring company dinner with too many middle aged men making terrible sexist jokes was your boyfriend walking into the same restaurant with his friends. Jeno’s hair was neatly parted and styled away from his forehead and with a smile on your lips you noticed that he was wearing the dark button up you had gifted him the other week. It looked good on him, hugging his arms and shoulders in all the right places. He didn’t seem like he had noticed you, laughing with his friends as they sat down on a table not far from yours, Jeno’s back to you.

An idea began to form in your head on how this evening could take a nice turn and you excused yourself from your coworkers, claiming that a client had called you which only made the drunk men cheer excitedly. Rolling your eyes, you quickly located the bathrooms of the restaurant to slip inside. The stalls weren’t particularly spacious but they had to do. Pulling out your phone, you quickly called Jeno’s number, waiting for him to pick up. “Yes?” He answered and you couldn’t help but smile. “You look good tonight,” you chose to say in lieu of a greeting, “The shirt fits you well.” “Noona?” You hummed lowly as an answer, checking your appearance in the big mirror. “How do you know?” He sounded so confused, god he was cute. You could vividly imagine him looking around the restaurant with big eyes. “Woman’s bathroom around the corner of your table, last stall,” you cryptically said before ending the call and slipping into said stall. The thought alone of Jeno struggling to come up with an excuse for his friends made excitement bubble up inside you.

It hadn’t even been more than a couple of minutes when you heard to door to the bathroom open, hurried steps echoing against the tiles before someone knocked on the door to your stall that you quickly opened, letting a surprised Jeno slip inside, his cheeks tinted an adorable shade of red. “Hey my puppy,” you fondly said, circling your arms around his neck to pull him close to you, his hands quickly finding your waist. “If someone saw me, I will die of embarrassment,” he whined, making you giggle. “I just couldn’t resist seeing you all dolled up like this.” “What are you doing here?” He asked curiously, shivering when you pressed kisses along his sharp jaw. “Hopefully you,” you breathed into his skin. Jeno’s grip around your waist tightened. “We’re in a restaurant, we can’t.” “No one will notice if you can stay quiet.” “My friends will miss me in a bit,” he argued but titled his neck back so you had more pale skin to run your teeth along.   “We’ll be quick,” you promised, letting your hands run down the hard planes of his chest and abdomen. “I- I can meet you at your apartment after our dinner,” Jeno stuttered, his breath catching in his throat when your fingers had ghosted over his sensitive pecs. “But why wait when you can have me now?” You whispered, gently palming him over the fabric of his slacks, causing him to softly moan. “No teasing, I’ll let you fuck me,” you promised. “Ri- Right here?” “Right here puppy,” you chuckled and quickly unbuckled his belt. “Someone could walk in.” “Doesn’t that make it even more exciting?”

The whimper that left Jeno’s lips was enough of an answer for you and you quickly pressed your lips together in a filthy kiss to swallow his moans as you worked his pants open to pull out his already half hard cock. “You’re into this,” you chuckled against his swollen lips while working him to full hardness. “You promised you wouldn’t tease,” Jeno whined, biting down on his plush lower lip to stop himself from moaning. “You’re just too cute, I can’t help myself.”

“I’m not cute,” he pouted. “Sure, puppy,” you grinned, giving his by now fully hard cock a firm squeeze that had him hiss. “How,” he gulped when his voice broke, “How are we gonna do this?” “You got any condoms with you?” “Why would I bring condoms to a dinner with my friends?” Jeno asked, his eyes wide. “Always be prepared, puppy,” you just winked before pressing a last kiss to his lips. “Just don’t cum inside me, I can’t have your cum leaking out of me for the rest of this dinner,” you breathed against his lips, the image making Jeno groan deep in his chest. “What if I can’t control myself?” He asked lowly while his hands were already raking up your skirt. “I know you can. You are my good puppy after all,” you growled, grabbing a fistful of the hair at his nape to force his head back, letting your teeth scrape over his bobbing Adam’s apple. “Turn... Turn around,” Jeno said, his voice shaking.

“Come on, puppy,” you sighed, doing as he had suggested and leaned against the opposite wall, the stone cold against your arms as you arched your back for him. Considerate as always, he quickly rubbed your clit through the flimsy fabric of your lacy underwear before he unceremoniously hooked it to the side to expose your glistening core to him.

“I’m not the only one who’s into this,” he muttered. “I wouldn’t have called you here if I wasn’t,” you chuckled but were cut off when he chose that moment to nudge your entrance with the head of his cock, turning your chuckle into a content purr as he slid home on one smooth thrust, filling you up just right. “Fuck me, puppy,” you whispered and swayed your hips, slowly grinding back against Jeno who cursed lowly before his hands found their home on your hips to grip them tightly. He slowly pulled his hips back to harshly snap them forward again, the sound of your skin slapping together resonating loud in the empty bathroom. Humming contently you let him fuck you with hard but deep strokes, biting your lower lip to keep your voice down.

Jeno himself was panting lowly into your ear, the speed of his thrusts getting faster and faster and his grip on your hips turning bruising. You could tell he was getting close to his orgasm with how close he was pressing his body against yours, wrapping his arms around your middle to press your bodies flush together, changing the angle of his thrusts that had turned almost erratic which made you see stars. You let your head fall back against his shoulder to see his blissed out expression: His eyes blown wide and pink lips parted. “Feels so good,” he mewled, hooking one of your legs over his arm so he could get more leverage. Moans were starting to spill past his lips and he screwed his eyes shut with effort to be quiet.

Just when you were about to reach down to rub your clit so you could join Jeno, you heard the door of the bathroom open, heels of whoever entered clicking on the stone floor. You quickly grabbed Jeno’s biceps, burying your fingernails into the hard flesh to get his attention. “Quiet now, puppy,” you hissed and he immediately froze, his eyes wide in panic. A mischievous grin spread on your lips when you watched his expression change into one of a mixture of anger and concentration when you started to grind back against him. “No one told you to stop though,” you whispered and clenched down around his cock. “She’ll hear us,” he hissed but didn’t stop you from using what little leverage you had to fuck yourself on his cock, the squelching of your sex sounding way too loud in his ears. “Not when you’re quiet. We’re on a time limit here,” you breathed. “Let me kiss you.”

Twisting your neck in an almost painful angle, you let Jeno press your lips together in a messy tangle of tongues before he started thrusting his hips again in fast and short snaps that had your eyes rolling back in your head. Clinging to each other, you muffled your moans and mewls of pleasure against his lips. “I’m close,” you mumbled when you felt the knot in your stomach tighten, quickly swallowing the mewl Jeno let out with another kiss. The sound of the woman’s heel against the tiled floor let Jeno freeze again for a moment and you couldn’t help the little chuckle that left your lips at his startled expression that only relaxed when the door fell back into its lock. “Forgot that she was still here?” You giggled.

“Shut up,” he whined and resumed with his punishing pace, punching all air from your lungs with the force of his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping on skin now resonating loud in the room. “So close,” you mewled, screwing your eyes shut as you felt your orgasm creep up on you again, “Don’t stop, Jeno.” “I’m gonna cum,” he whined, his thrusts loosing any sort of rhythm. “Just a little more,” you moaned, losing yourself in the pleasure that he brought you until it spilled over and your vision went white as your orgasm crashed over you, making you twitch and shiver in Jeno’s strong hold.

When you came back to, pleasure still lowly thrumming beneath your skin, you heard Jeno whimper behind you, his face buried in your neck. “Oh puppy,” you sighed, reaching behind to stroke his slightly damp hair. “-m sorry,” he mumbled, letting his softening cock slip from your core. You instinctively clenched around nothing when you felt his cum seep from your entrance. “Hmmm, baby,” you cooed, turning around to tenderly cup his face before pressing a kiss to his lips. “It’s okay. I know you’re going to make it up to me next time. Right?” “Yes,” Jeno hiccupped, catching your lips in a passionate kiss.

“Let’s get you to look presentable again,” you giggled, running your hands through Jeno’s hair to tame the strands while he quickly tucked his cock away and buttoned his pants back up. “I’m sorry,” he spoke lowly, capturing your lips in a kiss so tender it made your stomach flip. You playfully bit his lower lip before the feeling was becoming too overwhelming. “Friday evening at my place?” You rasped. “I’ll be there,” he promised, kissing you a last time before quickly slipping from the stall and out of the bathroom.

You giggled and shook your head before leaning against the cold wall of the stall. This kid... Jeno was really growing on you but you were sure no one was able to resist his cute smile and bubbly persona once you broke through his shell. Sighing, you quickly cleaned up most of the mess you two had made and put your clothes back in order, only slightly cringing at the thought of ruining your lace panties with his cum. After quickly checking your appearance in the mirror and deeming it presentable enough for your already drunk coworkers, you took a deep breath and exited the bathroom.

Instead of going straight back to the table your colleges still sat at, you went over to the little bar area to wave over one of the waiters. “Would you be so kind and bring the boys over there a bottle of that nice red wine of yours?” You asked kindly, motioning to the bottle that was on display. “And charge it to my card please.” “Of course ma’am,” the server smiled politely. “Thank you,” you smiled back and went back over to your own table, watching intently where Jeno’s friends were obviously mocking him for whatever excuse me had come up with.

Their banter was only interrupted when the waiter you had talked to before went over to their table with the bottle of wine, explaining that a lady had asked him to bring it over. The boys hollered loudly and clapped Jeno on his back as the waiter filled their glasses while you could see Jeno’s whole neck turning a bright red shade. He hadn’t turned around to look at you as to not rise any suspicions. You weren’t sure how much his friends knew about the little arrangement between you but when his blue haired friend looked around the restaurant and caught your eyes, you couldn’t help but lift your own glass of red wine to toast before taking a sip. The boy’s eyebrows shot up and disappeared behind his bangs for a second before his expression turned smug and he toasted back with his own wine glass.

From: Jen-baby I want that new Balenciaga hoodie I showed you the other day to compensate for the amount of embarrassment you put me through tonight They wouldn’t stop mocking me all night

To: Jen-baby Everything for my baby. It should arrive on your doorstep by tomorrow.

From: Jen-baby No I was joking! Take it back

To: Jen-baby Too late, let me spoil you a little, my puppy.

[jostepherjoestar]

An Educational Favour VII

ENDING! 

NOTsfw // FEM! reader & pronouns

warnings/notes: 18+ content, minors dni, risotto x reader alone finally, interc0urse, soft, romantic, intimate, face riding, scent kink? a little, squirting (kind of), ris is a service top don’t @ me, aftercare with ris, u can read into what risotto is trying to say/do readers 👀

part 1- 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

PART VII: 🖤Risotto🖤

It took some time to finally assess what you’d learned over the span of time since starting your educational adventure with your colleagues. After every session you had been left with your own thoughts, albeit in a haze, but it gave you time to relax and reflect. Illuso taught you to be confident and ask for what you want and shy Pesci made you put those communication skills to good use as you received one of the most intense orgasms you’d ever experienced. Damn that man has some great skills; it still makes you shudder to think back to your thighs clamped around his face, trembling in pleasure. Ghiaccio showed you how fun it could be to be hammered into the mattress while also desperately trying to make your capo feel good. Unlike Formaggio, who let the slow tempo take over and took his time to make you feel amazing. Then Melone who wasn’t afraid to get involved with Risotto as well, to let inhibitions go and indulge together. And your last, Prosciutto, showing you what it takes to handle being an obedient sub, which may or may not have gone just as rough as you had hoped. It had been very educational to say the least but it also made you realise how much you appreciated Risotto’s care. He’d been there the whole way through, getting his needs met in a different way, building up even more patience and strength. Maybe that’s what he’d taught you: sometimes the wait is worth it. And oh God did you want the wait to be over! It had been a month since your last lesson, the roughest so far, and you ached to be intimate again. This time with the very man you’d been craving since the start: Risotto.

For a while you pondered if you should just ask one of your teammates to help satiate that yearning, but it felt unfair. Everyone’s had their fun with you, except Risotto. So you remained patient, sure that your broody capo was very busy and trying to find the right time to squeeze you into his packed schedule. But the days kept dragging on, every call for a meeting squashing your hopes and desires when its subject was merely a new hit.

Over the few weeks you had been waiting you tried your very best to go the extra mile; willingly taking on a big chunk of paperwork so Risotto didn’t have to work such long nights, cleaning up his office, bringing him drinks and snacks throughout the day. It didn’t go unnoticed or unappreciated but his thanks were never more than just the word and a nod. He tried to hide his usual broody manner from lifting when you were around. His shoulders would relax and the tight grip on his pen would ease up, that little crease knitting his lovely brows together becoming ever so slightly less dented as he could breathe a soft sigh of relief with you near. Of course he won’t tell, or rather show you just how much he appreciates all you do for him; at least not yet.

If Risotto was truthful to himself, the wait wasn’t a planned one. Work kept piling up and your tired capo needed every bit of rest he could grasp. Knowing how good and obedient you had been with Prosciutto, Risotto knew you could handle it; well at least a bit. Your dark eyed superior wasn’t planning on anything as extreme as the former session, quite the opposite actually. He needed it to be perfect: the right day, the right mood and the right time.

And if your capo was being even more truthful to himself, his thoughts were starting to turn on him. He would be your last lesson. And the last of his men that had already quite successfully showed you how well they could indulge that eager curiosity. The final. The pressure of having to somehow top all other orgasms, top all other deep thrusts and caresses… it nagged at his mind. Pulling at the smallest insecurities that he’d freeze up when he finally had you all to himself. That he won’t be as amazing as your depraved fantasies had conjured him up to be. Even your lovely smile, your eyes that glimmered and had fireworks sparking behind them with every quick glance could only ease his mind so much.

The great Risotto Nero doubted his own expertise. The imposing, brooding, domineering capo fighting his very own powerful battle under that silly little jingly hat. Oh, what have you done to him?

--

For once you weren’t busy, lounging on the couch in the shared living room resting next to Melone. He’s become a bit of a confidant since your night with him, lending his ears so you could air any of your worries and more than gladly airing his own to you. Along with lots of jokes and talks late into the night, the whole ordeal had brought you closer to the usually more emotionally distant man. He’d opened up a lot more which you greatly appreciated since he’d already known so much about you.

At the moment you were just enjoying your rest, the tv in the background offering ambient noise as you nearly drifted off from the relaxed atmosphere, still a bit tired from your previous hit that strained your body. Melone idly talked about anything and nothing, the cadence of his smooth voice bringing you closer and closer to sleep. Your eyes fluttered shut for what felt like mere seconds but as it turns out you’d been taking a nap for a little while.

You were roused from the comfort of slumber by strong arms holding you close to their owner’s chest which felt well built and defined. They felt somewhat familiar in your haze, not sure if it was Melone. Too tired to really care you mumbled some indiscernible babbling, trying to thank whoever it was that so kindly laid you down on your bed.

Wait. This wasn’t your bed, the covers felt satiny, too soft and slippery to be your own thick comforter you liked to huddle in. It smelled completely different too. It smelled like… Risotto. You turned and breathed into the soft pillow, moaning in satisfaction as his smell engulfed your senses making your head feel even foggier. If you could bathe in it, you gladly would. Drenched in the most wonderful essence that clouded your thoughts in a hazy bliss.

“Mhh Ris? S’that you?” you mumbled sweetly as you came up for air, slowly opening your eyes again to assess the room you were currently in. You sat up a little, supported on your elbows, blinking at the darker hues of his surprisingly monochromatic interior. Furniture remained a dark stained wood, nearing a cool black while the walls were kept a light grey offering a lighter feel to the heavier placements of his blocky closet and bed. It was simple and straightforward, offering a seeming simplicity that contained more than it let on.

The room only lit by the soft light of the setting sun that streamed through his thinly veiled windows. As you scanned the room for any sign of him you felt a large figure loom right next to you, a little ways past the square bedside table. “Oh there you are.” A small smile gracing your lovely features, eyes meeting his darker ones that glistened with a certain excitedness you hadn’t seen before. Risotto was getting easier to read as time went on, small hints becoming clearer to his mood and thoughts, leading you to connect the dots on your own.

“All my meetings got cancelled for the day. Our boss had a sudden personal emergency.” his voice rang out even deeper than usual, the sound shivering through your core and straight into the slick building between your thighs. There was a certain relieved salacious hint to his tone, indicating it was finally time to get ravished. The long wait was finally over.

Heat rushed to your cheeks in abandon as the realisation set in. Risotto moved from his previous spot to cage you in his form, denting the mattress further with his added weight. His domineering figure offered no way out from under him, a dark gaze glued to yours as he drank in your expression. So cute and flustered, eyes wide in anticipation, a single touch could melt you. Risotto’s previous anxieties and insecurities were hushed and silenced by your innocent little stare, reminded of just how much he wanted you. Somehow you had still retained a sliver of chasteness, even after your trail of debauchery.

You swallowed thickly, too intoxicated and mesmerised by the realisation of the situation to initiate any further action. Even now you’d gladly wait for your patient capo to strike. “Wh-what are we doing today, Risotto?” Throat starting to feel dry under his continued glare, afraid to lick your plump lips to wet them again.

Risotto inched closer, his beautifully angular jaw relaxed of any previous stress moving ever closer to meet you just a breath away. Lingering over your lips he breathed in gently, as if sniffing his favourite cabernet sauvignon, basking in its essence but only for it to be yours. The one he’s smelled over and over but could never fully take in, for it was never yours alone, there was always another muddling your true essence.

“So sweet…” he mumbled, his breath tickling your lips that ached to meet his, to finally get engulfed by the man you’d craved for so long. Deciding to take a sip, sampling his sweet summer wine, his lips finally met yours. They were soft, softer than expected. Even more unexpected is how carefully he moved them against yours. For a moment he roamed cautiously as if to make sure this was really happening. You were glad he kept his pace slow, his deep kiss nearing a full short circuit of all your brain functions.

Never had you felt this before, an act so common making you feel like you’d entered the gates of heaven itself to be engulfed by anything you’d ever dreamed of. You matched his tempo, letting his tongue linger between your lips, offering a way in if he so liked. And he did, moving it with similar care and motivation, tenderly taking the lead but only to please you further. A moan escaped into his mouth, vibrating through him while your hand reached up to caress the side of his face, into his hair. He’d already forgone his usual hat, letting his silvery locks roam free. He leaned into your touch, gently rubbing a small thumb across his cheekbones and jawline. Mapping out his features in case you’d ever forget.

It made him break his kiss, slowly letting your head fall back into the pillow, admiring how plump your lips had gotten and how he’d love for them to never leave his again. No words were needed to communicate, your bodies told stories and iliads by themselves like they had been doing it for ages.

You both regained your breaths, continuing to drink up each other's flustered expressions. He looked so at ease, so at home, it made you wish he could feel like this forever. As if you weighed nothing more than a feather, he curled his arms beneath you and hoisted you up into him, cradling you and letting you wrap your legs around his hips.

To your surprise he fell onto his back, returning to his lustrous dark satin sheets with you resting on his hips. He never for a moment looked smaller or any less in charge, leading the way of your movements, knowing just what to do and how it could please you. You felt yourself get more and more excited as time went by. Your core feeling ready to explode before much was even done. You rested your hands on his chest, feeling his large length strain against his trousers, a reminder of your final challenge.

Your cheeky streak never left you, not even in this thick heavy fog of desire that seemed to permeate your very beings. You shifted in your seat to rub your clothed wetness against his aching length. The movement alone made him slightly hitch his breath, eyebrow twitching up in a playful manner to ask if you knew what type of game you’d gotten yourself into. You smirked back to let him know just how ready you’ve been to start, commencing once again with a snap of your hips. The move itself making you shiver out a moan as his girth slid perfectly between your folds, rubbing deliciously against your sore clit.

It was as if the sound awakened a new sense of hunger in the man underneath you, his eyes glazed over in lust knowing that his cock made you mewl so sweetly. That only he could truly satisfy that hunger you’ve been trying to satiate with his teammates. The thought alone made his cock twitch, springing him back into action with a great need to hear you whimper out his name.

He lifted himself up to meet your cute little face again, a sit up so casual like it caused his muscled core no effort. You couldn’t help yourself, bringing your lips back to his for a hurried kiss, a quick one to settle the craving. “Get undressed, you’re riding my face.” he demanded, kissing your jaw. His voice so closely against your neck sending yet another jolt of pleasure straight through you. Walls clenching around nothingness and awaiting his tongue.

You quickly undressed, discarding your clothes as fast as possible while trying not to look all too desperate, which was quite difficult because of his previous order to ride his face. He took off his top slow and deliberate, letting you gawk at his muscled arms and torso as they contorted. Risotto bathed in the attention, normally not one to overtly want people to stare or to crave others’ attention that much. But watching your eyes rake over his torso, your eager little glint shining brighter than any light in the room only made him want to indulge you more.

For now he’d keep his trousers on, taking in your lovely form that sat on his hips. Your plush thighs spilling over him so invitingly, the curve of your sides leading the way to your breasts that lay sweetly against your ribcage, nipples stiffened from all the excitement. He wanted to cherish every single bit of you, give every patch of soft skin the attention it deserved. If he was lucky enough he’d get the time today, and many times after to complete that wish.

It didn’t feel embarrassing to let him stare at you, his crimson eyes were so gentle when they took you in, engraving every curve and mound into his memories. Surprised that there could be even more appreciation for you than previously thought. 

Risotto’s large hand reached for your hip, taking in your shape and giving it a soft knead, as if to feel how pliable you were. His touch made your skin tingle, heated sparks spreading in pools around his digits. His other hand moved parallel, assessing the very handles he’ll be holding onto in a minute. “Come on then.” he smirked up at you, his dimple presenting itself so cutely. You felt like you could pass away at how adorable his smutty request was and how casual it felt to talk to your capo in such a way. Any shame or embarrassment just simply not invited to this party.

You did as you were told, positioning yourself right above his face, caging in his head like you’d done before to dear Pesci. Maybe today you’d writhe and moan in such pleasure again, the naughty thoughts sinking you down without Risotto even needing to guide you. It made him chuckle deeply into you as his mouth met your dripping folds, the ripples of his voice tickling you.

He began to lap at you, drinking up all of your sweet essence like it was his last glass of beloved cabernet. His tongue moving with the same care as before, tracing around your clit before giving it a suck with his lips, the aching bud of nerves already hardened with pleasure. You moaned at his ministrations, clamping your thighs while he worked you, bucking your hips rhythmically; setting a comforting pace. Risotto moved in tandem, holding onto your hips like before but gripping them tighter with his large palms, fingers digging into your gorgeous form. Hot breaths swiped at your mound, a dragon breathing steam out of his nose while he softly grunted into you. You felt even more slick trickle down, glad to hear him let go like he has before and not be afraid to be heard. You loved hearing how much he was enjoying himself.

Just like many times before, heat started rising, orgasm near and bringing in tsunamis of pleasure that crashed wildly at your insides, your head reaching new heights of haziness. “Fuck Risotto-” you got out the words between ragged pants and mewls, feeling your walls tighten around his tongue that would dip in from time to time to skillfully work inside. “M gonna come sh-it!” you hunched over to grasp at the sheets for any semblance of support, no place to hold onto the bed frame since it was just out of reach. As you snapped your hips a few more times, Risotto focussing all his attention on working you into a dizzying orgasm, you came on his face. A new sensation washing over you along with the pleasure of your peak, a gushing of sorts that made you moan out his name even louder while your legs trembled around his head.

The silken fabric was too soft, not giving you any grip whatsoever, having to support yourself on your hands while sparks rippled through every crevice of your being. And Risotto had no plans of stopping, keeping up his pace and gladly licking up all your juices, having felt him growl into you when you gushed over his face. You had stopped rocking now, too focused on remaining seated; panting and trying your best not to collapse into the mattress as he kept eating you out.

Risotto ingrained every single bit of your movements and the way he could make you squirm and tremble under his attention. How you yelped out his name during worn breaths, how your thighs and core were overheating from pleasure. He was making you feel this way and no one else for once. At this moment his only job was to make you come again, knowing how quickly you could be urged into your next orgasm if he just kept going. You weren’t the only one learning stuff on this educational favour.

With another strong swirl and suck on your overstimulated clit, your second orgasm was brought on. It made you fall onto the mattress, twitching as you lifted your hips away from his face to catch your breath. The cool air offering some sort of relief while your walls anxiously clasped around empty space. Risotto could finally breathe properly again, not that he wished to be doing anything other than servicing you, cursing his lungs for needing air. His chin and mouth were completely covered in your abundant slick; something he took in pride.

You slowly moved off of him completely, chests both rising and falling deeply. The only sound filling the room was that of your combined heavy breathing. For a moment laying there, relishing in the ambience of pleasure, realising that you were getting what you had wanted. You felt relieved, thankful that he’d made you wait because somehow it made it all the better. And getting in some experience certainly helped too.

“Please fuck me.” you plainly said, reminded of the first time you’d asked him and how nervous you felt, all of that gone now. You heard him breathe out a chuckle, making you turn your head to see why he thought it so amusing of you to ask such a thing. “What’s so funny Risotto?” you asked, smiling at his glistening lower face, wiping off the remainder with his sheets. You’ll just wash them later.

“You still think I’ll just fuck you.” he replied as casually as you’d asked. His facade did not let on any sort of humouring which made your stomach sink and eyes widen. What? Was he not going to fuck you? Your thoughts started spiralling into a panic, propping yourself up to question him further. But you couldn’t even do so, with one swift move he was back on top of you, caging you underneath him with that crimson glare boring through yours.

“I won’t just fuck you gattina.” he intoned, delicately moving a strand of hair back in place while speaking. He leaned back in close now, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he breathed out. “We’re going to make love. It’s your last lesson.” he purred, starting a trail of soft wet kisses from your jawline all the way down to your neck and collarbones. You still remained shocked, at least glad that he didn’t mean to reject you.

You were stumped. All that was somehow still a very smooth move despite scaring the actual shit out of you. You huffed out a relieved laugh now too. “You scared me for a second, Ris!” He was steadily working his way down to your chest, letting him take one of your breasts into his hand to knead it and sucking on the pert nipple of the other. His grip was strong but still careful, making sure to massage them just enough to hear your breath hitch. “I’d never leave you hanging high and dry. Unless you’d want me to.” you could feel him smile against your skin; the mischievous bastard. You playfully tugged at his silver locks, dark eyes shooting you a gorgeous smile that pierced right through you and melted your heart. He really was a bastard!

Your heart had settled back into its place, ready to continue and forget all about the short little panic he’d caused you. Guess that was just a bit more payback for testing his patience and strength throughout the sessions.

Risotto halted his succession of pecks right above your ribs, planting a trail where your bra usually made its home and planted a few more wet kisses over the indents that still marked your skin. Like his lips would make them fade and replace them with a loving memory of his touch. You could only stare at his deliberate movements, enamoured by the way he gently held onto your sides while he kissed you sweetly. You were squirming under him, trying your best to not ask him again to plow you into the mattress because by now you knew better; he’ll get to it. Eventually.

You sighed in satisfaction when he stopped, his thick fingers now moving downwards just above your mound. He ghosted over the area, digits barely felt which made goosebumps rise all over, a small yelp leaving your lips at the soft graze. He moved further down, dipping between your soaking folds carefully, avoiding any touch to your overworked bud which still ached to be stimulated again. A single finger slid inside your amply drenched hole now, pumping in and out of you at a slow pace.

Risotto looked up at you, meeting that expression he so loved to see. Lips slightly parted, a soft wet sheen over your forehead from your orgasms, cheeks that remained heated and puffy from arousal. With every thrust he heard a soft moan escape, eyes crinkled shut while he hit further and deeper inside of you with every push. The way your eyes shot open again as he entered another finger, the thickness of them stretching you open further. It felt amazingly tender to have him take all the time he needed - you needed- to adjust to his size.

Your soaked walls clenched and squelched around him, accepting more and more, ready for the precise thing you had been waiting to receive. He hadn’t been paying your sensitive clit any mind, the only focus on working you open. But the way his fingers curled, now three of them joined inside, tickling the most pleasurable spot nestled in your walls you let go and groaned loudly as he made you near another orgasm, head heavy and lost in a thick fog. He didn’t let you come however, feeling how your walls had quickened their grasp on his fingers and how your chest heaved and how those moans and groans sounded so desperate.

He moved himself out of you slowly, creeping up closer over you again and letting his coated fingers rest on your lips. Your eyes met again, glazed over in lust and a deeper craving to be even closer to him, those dark ones so trained on every small contortion and crease of your expression. You opened your mouth to receive them, suckling at the digits and lapping up your own juices with determination. Even propping yourself up a little to better your licks and sucks, eager to work him clean.

Risotto felt like he could burst, your tongue working with a focus that you couldn’t offer last time you had your mouth wrapped around him; too busy being fucked into oblivion on both ends. Satisfied with your cleaning he took them out of your mouth and kissed you again. Deeply and tenderly, tasting each other and your essence on his lips as tongues danced around. It was enrapturing to indulge so much but you were both ready to finally have his large leaking cock inside of you. He promptly discarded his trousers, his leaking head and impressive shaft bobbing as he got ready for you. The image alone never failed to surprise you, making your mouth water in anticipation.

“I’ve waited for this so long. Please don’t hold back, Ris.” you sighed as he kept you on your back, legs being spread open and moved up and wide with your knees bent closer to your chest. More than enough room to accommodate the man and his daunting length, the air no longer fresh or cooling; too heavy with the scent of lust and the heat of the moment. Risotto clasped both of your wrists in one of his hands, his large palms comfortably holding them and reaching them above your head where he held them pressed into the mattress. He leaned over you now, once again capturing you under him in a way that felt so protective and safe, the place where he’d take care of you and cherish every single moment pleasing you.

The familiar tip of his leaking member grazing just outside your hole, leaning at the entrance. Somehow the feeling made you tremble, the fires burning between your thighs lapping flames against him. “Oh I won’t hold back, you’re going to feel every single inch of me.” his wordiness surprised you, the way his deep voice carried making you weak.

His other hand supported his weight beside your head, letting his hips do all the work of carefully pressing deeper into you. The intrusion made you gasp, his head welcomed by your previously stretched walls. Wailing as he slowly inched further and further. He stopped every couple seconds, groaning deeply between heavy breaths, so vocal in how good you fit around him; so warm and inviting. “Cazzo you feel so good-” he muttered under his breath, starting to pump in and out of you, not even fully sheathed yet.

Being so stretched out, hitting every single spot and hidden pleasure-centers made you see stars, eyes pinched shut and squirming under his firm grasp on your wrists. It felt even better than you could ever imagine. He was perfect, made just for you and you for him. The final puzzle piece clicking in place.

When he finally buried himself inside of you, a thrust paced and calculated as to not hurt you in any way, his tip brushed against your cervix sending shivers down your body as you yelped at the sensation. He paused again, letting you pulse around him, feeling every contortion of your core. “Please keep going Risotto, please-” you whimpered, opening your eyes again to beg with a pleading gaze. Of course he can’t deny you, he’s never been able to.

Set back in action he started a steady rhythm, hips rolling his cock inside you with ease. Every single thrust brushing against your g-spot sending wave upon wave of pleasure through you. At this point no one was being quiet, much to your delight. His deep grunts and moans awakening a need to hear them on repeat every single day of your life. It only egged him on to hear you wailing, tears starting to prick the corners of your eyes while he continued. Completely lost in ecstasy, not a single thought in either of your heads other than this moment.

You felt your orgasm earn footing again, his cock reaching so deep and right. Feeling you clasp around him so often only made him twitch, getting close too and all too focused on making you come again before he can spill. “Touch yourself, I want to feel you come on my dick- You’re so beautiful.” He groaned desperately when you clenched even harder around him, his words affecting you greatly. He freed your wrists, letting his other hand support himself as well, letting him deepen his thrusts even further with the added grip.

You toyed your clit with vigour, your folds soaked with your slick letting you increase your pace. Desperate for your orgasm to wash over you while Risotto increased his speed as well. Chasing your peaks together, you reached it first. You could only mumble something that vaguely resembled Risotto’s name at this point, over and over like a mantra that lead your orgasm on. You felt yourself gush over his length again, dripping down onto his already soiled sheets. As you pulsed and writhed riding the waves of it to shore, Risotto followed suit. With a loud guttural groan you felt him tense up and twitch, releasing inside of you with languid spurt of his warm come. His thrusts slowed and sputtered as he kept coming. For a man of his expertise and experience, this was the first time someone had made him come this hard. Well, it was the first of many things he’s experienced with you.

Both breathing heavily as he stopped, resting above you and eyes opening again to adoringly stare at each other's satisfied faces. His eyes held a certain emotion he hadn’t let himself show before; he needn’t use words. You smiled back at him, that goofy satisfied one he always looked forward to seeing after a session, communicating back that you shared his sentiment. 

As soon as he pulled out you felt so dreadfully empty again but never have you felt more full on a different level. That hunger that gnawed at you before now finally satiated (even if just for tonight). You had gotten what you wanted and so much more. The look on Risotto’s face told you much the same for him as he laid down next to you, pulling you into his arms where you nuzzled his sweaty chest. You placed tired kisses on him, basking in his soft caresses over your shoulders and into your neck where he gently massaged your scalp. You melted into his touch, sighing deeply and feeling your sleepiness settle in again. “Thank you Risotto. For everything. I… I really appreciate all you’ve done for me.” you admitted, listening to his heartbeat settle with your head pressed against it, drawing circles into his biceps with your finger.

“I wasn’t sure at first but I’m glad we did it. All of it. It might be strange to say but-” he sighed as he planted another kiss on the crown of your head. “I’m proud of you.” he felt relief wash over him for finally having said what he’d wanted to for so long. It may have been such an unusual thing to have gone through together but he really was proud of you. For always being open minded and learning along the way, for getting what you wanted and even bringing the squad closer together since commencing the journey.

--

Sat between his legs, enjoying the warmth of the water and letting small bubbles fizz at your skin while you let Risotto massage your scalp. He worked the shampoo through your locks with care and purpose as you sat there, eyes closed, head tilted back, fully enjoying the moment. Having him with you as you regained your senses felt so wonderful, usually doing it by yourself as Risotto retreated in the past. But now was his turn to take care of you like he’d wanted. He washed your limbs, running the washcloth soaked in your favourite scented body wash over every plane of skin. Giggling as he paid extra attention to your breasts. “They need cleaning too.” he mumbled playfully. It was like you’d opened up a whole other side to your capo, finally showing slivers of his more vulnerable side, not afraid to let you in.

In return you washed his hair too, scratching and circling every spot that made him putty in your hands. You don’t think he’s ever been this relaxed before. You traced the lines of his muscles, mapping out dividing routes and connecting them again only to break off and discover new ones.

Perhaps staying in the bath a bit too long as you both pruned up, digits crinkled like raisins. Dressed back in the most comfortable clothes you owned, Risotto and you went out into the shared headquarters again. You felt renewed and somehow a bit changed since last walking through these halls. Everyone was seated at the long dinner table that faced the kitchen, talking loudly and passing plates and scooping up helpings of pasta and sauce. Their noise dissipating once you and Risotto entered, eyes now pointed towards your direction and following as you both took your usual seats.

You remained quiet, a smirk gracing your lips as you tried to contain your laughter at the curious stares of your colleagues. “Good nap?” Melone quipped, a salacious smile covering his face, he knows he’ll get all the details later on. “Uhu!” you nodded happily as you held out your plate for Illuso to fill it with pasta, who did as asked with a quirked eyebrow. “Learned enough?” Formaggio asked next, wolfing down his food and basking in the moment of openness. “One can never stop learning.” you replied politely, watching as your plate got handed to Pesci who had turned as red as the sauce he was ladling onto your plate. “Got good grades?” Prosciutto asked, letting himself join in on the questioning with a minuscule smile curling the corner of his mouth upwards. “Top of her class.” Risotto interjected, letting his dimple return as he started his meal. “I might do some extra credit, just in case.” and with that you began your dinner, happily twirling the pasta around your fork and letting your colleagues figure out how you will ever be satiated.

[exosmutfactory]

Six Phases 006 Pt 6

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

A/N: I couldn't find a picture to match Baekhyun's appearance—so I chose one that fits his mood instead  2.0 😅 ♡

[ contains: angst ] Two’s a couple, Three’s a crowd 💔

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 P(1)  P(2) —– P(3)  P(4) —– P(5)  P(6) ✓ ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)  P(2)

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

My heels click rhythmically on the sidewalk, in perfect sync with the song I’m humming. I’ve taken a liking to listening to new music lately instead of sticking to the same old artists that I’ve heard a thousand times. Trying to expand my horizons and replace sob-inducing ballads with uplifting trap beats.

It��s going okay so far: moving on. Learning how to navigate the world while riding solo. It’s not like I haven’t done it before—sleepless nights aren’t new. Lack of appetite isn’t either. A breakup will never be the end of the world, no matter how excruciating it is. So why should I let it hold me back and define me?

Birds chirp merrily in the trees, bringing a smile to my face, especially when I catch sight of a little hummingbird enjoying nectar from a patch of flowers. If there’s one thing I can say that has helped me during this time, it’s nature. Simply looking out at the world from my apartment window and taking long walks around the more remote parts of this city have calmed my soul more than I can express with words.

I’m watching the squirrels scurry around on the other side of the street while waiting for the crosswalk light to turn green when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I sigh, so much for a moment of tranquility.

I pull my phone out of my tiny jean pocket, furrowing my brows at the caller ID. Jongin…? That’s strange, has he ever called me before? I rack my brain for answers. Nope, this is the first time he is calling me. Flashbacks of our distant friendship since that one summer fight I had with a certain someone flashes through my mind... I press my phone to my ear before I can overthink it any longer. "Hello?"

"Riley." Jongin’s smooth voice filters over the line.

"Hi," I mumble, continuing down the street, noticing a beautiful blue and green butterfly flying by with a smile. The pitter patter of a water fountain in the distance has me falling back into my 'Zen’ mode. "What’s up? How are you?"

"I need a favor." He drops; straight to the point. Sending me right into a panic.

My phone nearly falls to the ground. "...You didn’t break a leg or something-"

"No, no," He immediately responds, recognizing the high pitch of hysteria in my voice. "It’s nothing bad."

Thank fuck, the last thing I need right now is bad news. It may be the end of March, but I’m not really feeling this 'Spring’ season. My mood shifts faster than the strong wind. The only stress I try to have nowadays are always work related because if I stop and think about my personal life for a moment I am fucked.

I take a deep breath, leaning my back against a light pole before replying to him. "Okay."

"There’s a dance competition in June," He slowly explains, "and I need a partner."

"Oh..." I blink a few times, straightening back up. "Huh… I’m sorry, I’m not really good at choosing candidates. I’m not a professional-"

"I mean you." He interjects, background music drifting over the line. "I want you to be my partner."

I pull the phone away from my ear for a moment, looking at it in disbelief, "I'm sorry—What?"

"I have a routine already," His voice takes on a warmer tone, pure persuasion dripping from his honeyed words. "With your name all over it."

"...Eh??" I look off to the side, trying in vain to find something—anything to distract me from the tingles zapping down my spine at the sound of his voice. God… what the fuck? "Don’t you have like a million other people who specialize in-"

"I made the choreography for you."

My heart hammers in my chest. "And why the heck would you do that?" I demand, tightening my grip on the phone. Something out of the corner of my eye suddenly captures my attention, dragging my eyes over to it instantly. The sight that greets me has my throat going dry, gulping as my hands shake.

It’s Baekhyun—and he isn’t alone.

He’s accompanied by a tall, beautiful woman, the same height as him in her flat sandals. Her black hair reaches the middle of her back, contrasting against her light blue overalls and swaying softly in the cool wind. They lean against a brick wall next to a cute coffee shop with matching coffee cups in their hands.

Jongin’s words fade into background noise while I watch them. My vision blurs when she laughs, resting her hand on his arm. The way she easily initiates physical contact with him speaks volumes; this isn’t their first meeting. It’s been 2 months since January, and yet...

My heart constricts painfully in my chest, I suck in a deep breath. Lightheadedness hits me full force, I quickly cling onto the pole when my body sways off balance. Shit… I must have been holding my breath. 

"Riley?" Jongin’s muffled voice drifts from my distant phone. Thankfully it fell onto the parking meteor next to me and not on the ground. "Riley!"

Burning a hole into the back of Baekhyun’s silver-haired head, I bring the phone back to my ear. "I’ll do it," I mumble lowly.

"I’m sorry?"

Staring at Baekhyun and his new friend, I make my decision. "I’ll be your partner."

•••

Okay… Maybe I was too hasty in agreeing to this whole dance competition thing. I should have waited to make a decision when I was in a better state of mind.

It’s been a good four weeks since I agreed to be Jongin’s partner—four weeks of pure hell.

If I had known what kind of dance moves were incorporated in this routine I never ever would have agreed. The choreography appears simple and subtle enough on the surface, especially thanks to Jongin’s gifted skills, but that’s the problem. It’s not simple; it’s a fucking ankle breaker. It’s pure well-organized insanity and I don’t know how much more of it that I can take.

"From the top," Jongin’s voice echoes in the dance studio. He presses a remote to start the song over again. I try to stay focused, ignoring the looming figures of the other hostile dancers in the room. Why they all gathered here to watch us practice today, I have no idea, but it isn’t helping me at all.

The bass booming from the stereo speakers vibrates the wood under my feet. Sweat permeates the air. Their predator-like stares break me down from the inside out. The memory of Baekhyun with that woman pops into my mind...

"5, 6, 7-"

Shit!

Gasps echo around the room when it happens: I collapse onto the floor, clutching onto my throbbing ankle.

"Riley?!" Something about the alarm in Jongin’s voice makes me wince, curling in on myself as everyone’s whispers float into the air.

"Oh my god, is she serious...?"

"See what I mean! She has two left feet. Why is he wasting his time on her?"

"Dumbass can’t even do a single number, let alone a simple choreography. The way he chose that over me…"

I try my best to reel in my emotions, to keep the hurt from being seen on my face, but there’s only so much I can bear—there’s only so much I can take.

Tears pelt down my face while their loud gasps and delighted giggles fill the air. I make a move to climb to my feet, ready to bolt out of here and never step foot in this place again when a gentle hand on my shoulder stops me.

"Riley." It’s Jongin, crouching down to meet my eye. "Are you okay?"

I can only shake my head, losing my breath as their taunting voices swirl around my head like a whirlpool, consuming me whole.

"Riley, stay with me." Jongin rests both his hands on my shoulders, directing my eyes to his whenever I look away. "Talk to me. What’s wrong?"

"I-I," I choke, covering my face in my hands before I sob pathetically on the hardwood floor. The throbbing of my backside and ankle only makes it worse.

"Ri-"

"Look at her! Pathetic at it’s finest."

Jongin stiffens, I don’t even need to see him to know that he’s gone rigid. His hand slips off my shoulder as I watch his silhouette rise from the spaces between my fingers, standing to his full height.

"Mind sharing with the class what you just said, Kim Nora?" He looks at the woman in the middle of the 5 dancers leaning against the far wall, his jaw clenching.

"I-"

"If you have something to say, say it."

"I’ve been waiting for this opportunity for years. Years, Jongin!" She snaps, her shrill voice bouncing off of the walls. "I’m on time for every rehearsal. I practice until I bleed. Why does this no-name slut get to come in here and take it from me when she can’t even stand on her own two feet?!"

"Kim Nora." The way he says her name has everyone on edge. My back prickles in fear and secondhand embarrassment. He’s not even directing that stone cold tone at me and I’m hella uncomfortable sitting here.

"Who’s dance studio is this, Nora?"

"Yours-" She looks away, not brave enough to meet his eyes anymore. "-M-Mr. Kim..."

Jongin hums, holding his hands behind his back while pacing up and down the floor. "Who’s name is on the sign out front, everyone?"

"Yours, Mr. Kim." They chime in sync with meek voices. A look of regret painted on every single one of their faces.

"Mine." He concludes, satisfied before turning his dark eyes back onto Nora. "Let me explain something to you, Nora."

Her eyes stay focused on the floor.

"This is my practice, my building." He stops pacing, stretching his arms out to showcase the room. "You are under my roof." He looks dead at her, eyes colder than ice. "You are here because I let you. Do you understand that?"

"Y-yes, sir, but I-"

"Next time," He cuts her off, "You decide to be immature. Next time, you decide that your knowledge is anything close to my expertise." He steps closer, and I’ve never seen a person standing 3 feet away have such an impact on an individual. "Next time, you decide to mock one of my friends." He lowers his voice, and I can feel the heavy promise coming off him in waves. "You are gone. Do you understand me?"

Nora babbles something unintelligible, tears brimming her eyeliner caked eyes.

"Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes!" She sucks in a breath, snot clogging her nose as she directs her eyes back to the floor. "Yes, sir."

"Good." He steps away, turning on his heel before rushing back over to me. "Riley," His voice is softer now, much like the Jongin who helped rescue me from my birthday party 2 years ago.

"Hey..." I hush, lowering my hands to my lap.

"Are you okay?" He hands me a clean towel, his brows furrowed in worry. "How’s your ankle?"

"I-It’s fine."

He raises a brow, reaching out a hand to me. "May I?"

"Yeah." I sigh, noticing the familiar look of concern on his face.

Jongin takes my ankle into his hands, handling it carefully and pressing a few places. "Does it hurt?" His frown deepens when I wince. "And here?"

"Yeah," I nod, my face pinched up in pain.

"From 1 to 10," He continues, looking me dead in the eyes, "How much pain are you in?"

My lips part to answer, but I pause, biting the bullet and wiggling my ankle around to see how bad it actually is. "F-four out of ten." I grit out, still so sensitive that tears sting my eyes again.

"It’s sprained." He concludes, gently lowering it back to the floor.

"W-what does that mean?" I ask fearfully. Whatever it means, it doesn’t sound good with the contest 6 weeks away. Shit, why am I such a fuck up? What if I can’t perform let alone learn the choreography in time? I’m such a failure, I-

"It’s not bad," He reassures, resting a comforting hand on my arm. "A few days off of it and you should be good as new."

"R-really?" 

Jongin nods, smiling softly. "Nothing a few days off can’t fix."

"Oh, thank you," I whisper in relief, wrapping my arms around his neck to mask the tears that escape my eyes. "Thank you, thank you."

"No," Jongin shakes his head, hugging me warmly, whispering just as quietly in my ear. "Thank you."

•••

After that day, none of the dancers have bothered me, let alone showed up to any more dance practices. Jongin made sure of that. No one fucked around with him either after the way he resolved the issue. An angry Jongin is a scary Jongin; that much I know now.

Sighing softly, I look up at the fluffy clouds overhead, trying to salvage the calm that washes over me in wake of April’s flourishing weather. The flowers are more alive than ever. Small animals and other critters run around for food on the ground. The world around me is the picture-perfect example of nature at its finest—so why is there an uneasy feeling weighing on my chest?

Work is going well and the book we had spent months and months preparing was released last week. I’m on my way to the nearest bookstore to grab a copy for myself. To check that no grammar related errors got past my keen eyes or because I genuinely enjoy the novel, who knows. I want to see the final product for myself and check out other releases. It’s about time I pick up another book besides the one I stayed up countless nights making sure everything was finalized.

A cute bell chimes when I step through the door, hit with the aroma of fresh coffee. Every time I go to a bookstore or library, it’s like I am stepping into another world. The shelves filled to the brim with hundreds, maybe thousands of literature, all at the touch of your fingertips.

From ebooks to the dusty classics, I love them all. I may not read everything; I might be one of the pickiest readers out there, but I appreciate the blood, sweat, and tears that go into every completed book. Good or bad, the author has big balls for trying and putting their name out there. I have mad respect for that.

Venturing further into the shop, my eyes catch the Fantasy section with ease. I make my way over, already seeing a colorful display set out for the newest releases. The sight of the book I’m looking for brings a smile to my face. It feels different to see it in a store instead of reading the rough drafts in the comfort of my bed. Damn the graphic designers put their foot in the cover; it captures the personalities of the main characters perfectly. I couldn’t be more proud.

My smile widens the closer I get to the display, realizing that there is only one copy left of the book. Deserved; everyone from the author to the marketing team have done their best to make this book a big seller. Thankfully the universe left one just for me.

Just as my fingertips touch the edge of the paperback cover, someone else’s hand brushes against mine.

"Oh! Sorry-"

"Ah, I’m so sor-"

My heart plummets and my head snaps up to look at them at once. Puppy brown eyes that I could identify out of countless others and a million stars stare wide-eyed right back into mine.

Fuck.

"Riley?" He breathes, his handsome face painted in disbelief.

I can only wheeze, my chest throbbing as if my heart will explode.

Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck—

Before he can say another word, before I can crumble in front of his questioning orbs, I turn on my heel and sprint out of there like a bat out of hell.

I’ve been doing better, I’m slowly healing from it all, but the moment I see his face—his sweet, tired, kicked-puppy face, I fold quicker than an umbrella in an incoming hurricane. It hurts worse than the force of an 18-wheeler. My whole world full of its fragile edges and duct tape unravels under the weight.

Normally, I wouldn’t do this.

…

Okay scratch that—I used to do this. All the damn time, but with the way our lives have changed and that one conversation we had back in March 2 years ago I… I haven’t been able to bring myself to talk to him. I’ve made it my mission to avoid Sehun.

I know what he will say the minute I tell him what’s up: I told you so—the bane of my existence. That one phrase alone is enough to keep me from confessing so many things. I rather suffer in silence than hear that sentence, but… This is different.

No matter how much it pains me and paints me in shame, I need to tell my best friend what's been going on. After everything he has done for me since our childhood... I owe him that much. So here I am now.

I chew on my bottom lip and knock firmly on his apartment door, waiting for someone to answer with bated breath.

It opens a few minutes later, revealing his unmistakable tall form as he dries his hair. Sehun does a double take. "Shorty?" He breathes in disbelief, pausing in ruffling his messy black locks.

I laugh a little, warmth sparking in my aching heart from the nickname. "Yeah," I breathe, managing a wobbly smile, already feeling tears prickle my eyes. "That's me."

We stare at each other for a long moment, nothing but the distant swish of driving cars and the muffled conversations happening beyond the open balcony on his floor fills the silence. Ah… My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I shouldn’t have come here. He’s probably busy enough as it is-

As if reading my mind, Sehun’s gaze softens. He throws the towel around his neck before opening his arms. "Come here."

I bury myself in his chest without hesitation, soaking the fabric of his black t-shirt with my tears. "I’m sorry," I croak, holding back sobs.

"Hey, hey," a low, soothing voice chimes in, resting a hand on my arm. "What happened?" 

"I don’t know," Sehun mumbles, rubbing my back as I shake in his arms. "But whoever did it will be missing an arm."

"N-No need, Hun," I sniffle with a shaky sigh, pulling away from his embrace. A chill covers my skin with goosebumps the moment I step away. It’s been like this all week; feeling hot to the touch, yet shaking like a leaf at the same time. I have no idea what is going on, and at this point… I don’t want to know. I can say that for a lot of things.

Wiping my face with the back of my hand, I turn around, smiling apologetically at the brown-haired man standing in the doorway. "I’m sorry for popping up out of the blue, Lu."

"Nonsense," Luhan shakes his head, his curly hair partially covering his worry-filled eyes. He takes my hand between his, "Come in, I’ll make us some tea."

"Okay," I whisper, shuffling into their apartment. I take the tissue box he offers me, following him into the spacious living room. He goes into the kitchen while I sit down on their couch, my breath hitching from the emotions budding in my chest.

Sehun closes the door, noisily walking on the wooden floor in his flip flops. He sits down next to me, questioning me with his unwavering stare, but I can’t bring myself to meet his eye. I… I don’t know where to begin; I can’t even find the words. The squeal of the teapot in the other room fills the tense silence between us.

"Alright," He sighs, propping his foot up on the coffee table and resting his arm on his knee before giving me a hard look. "What did Byun do?"

I choke, snapping my eyes to his, "How do you know?"

"You never visit," He points out in the driest of tones. "And when you do, you always call first."

I can only lower my head, pulling my knees to my chest.

"You don’t usually cry after seeing my face either. I mean," He continues, nudging me with his elbow. "Am I ugly or something?"

I snort. "Shut up." Shaking my head, I sigh deeply. "I just… A lot has happened." Risking a peek at him, my shoulders relax at the worried furrow of his brows and the care in his sharp brown eyes.

He nods, smiling the softest that I’ve seen in a long time. "I got time." 

I smile a little, my chest bursting in gratefulness for having a friend like him in my life. No matter what happens or what I get into, I can always count on Sehun to be there.

…

If only I didn’t have so much baggage to bring to his door.

"I…" Come on; I ball my hands into the fabric of my shirt. Say it.

Sehun keeps his eyes on me and I struggle more to get the words out, my chest starting to heave. Should I be here? Should I be doing this? What will he say? What if this just makes everything worse—

No.

Sehun is my best friend. We have shared so many memories together, the good and the bad. I was the first person he came out to. He was there when my father walked out of my life. I cheered him on as he climbed the ranks of his weight training team. He helped me catch fireflies in my backyard when all I could rely on was my poor eyesight.

It’s always been him and I against this cruel world. One man—one boy, won’t change that overnight.

"I broke up with Baekhyun." 

"What?!" Sehun leaps off of the couch. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah..." I drag out, looking him up and down in confusion. Panic hits me in the gut. "W-Why? What’s wrong-"

"Dude!" He exclaims, tangling his hands in his hair, the most comically distressed expression on his normally 'bitch’ face. "I thought he broke up with you."

The thought of what would have happened if Baekhyun had been the one to dump me makes my heart hurt so much I feel the color drain from my face.

"H-Hey," Sehun immediately takes notice, waving his hands around. "Not on the couch, anywhere but the couch-"

Luhan suddenly appears behind him with a tray of drinks, lovingly smacking the back of his head. "Here," He soothes, ignoring Sehun’s pelulant whines while setting down the tray on the coffee table and offering a mug to me.

"Thank you, Lu." I breathe, smiling when the scent of lemon and ginger hits my nose.

Luhan takes the seat on the other side of me, resting a comforting hand on my knee. "We’re here." He nods, sharing a look with Sehun before focusing back on me with the gentlest of eyes. "Whenever you are ready."

Gulping, I curl my fingers around my mug, the warmth of the tea and their soft eyes giving me the strength to open up.

I am finally able to put everything into words… I just hope we all make it out unscathed. 

Closing my eyes, I start from the very beginning, updating them on what has happened since the year we started dating. The summer fight I never told Sehun about, Baekhyun’s ex Haneul following me around. The French lady at the photoshoot, the model behind the scenes. Our fight that reached the public. What went down at the Byun’s house… And finally… how I ran, and never looked back.

Sehun’s facial expressions shift from one extreme to the next throughout my confession. At one point I have to look away from him, stuttering the more I see the disappointment in his eyes. By the end of it, I’m mumbling to the lukewarm mug between my palms rather than them.

My words trail off into silence, nothing but the ticking of Luhan’s treasured grandfather clock making a sound. I’ve grown to hate this the most: the empty space that leaves room for my thoughts to sneak up on me again.

"You were hiding all of this..." Sehun speaks up, betrayal joining the disappointment in his eyes. "All this time."

A lump forms in my throat, "I-"

"You kept this to yourself for years." He grits out, his voice growing sadder by the minute. "Years, Riley."

"I’m sorry," I sob, curling up into a ball, choking on my tears. "I’m s-so sorry."

"Why?" He runs a hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut. 

"I-I didn’t wanna bother you," I babble, gasping so much for air I choke even more. "You’re busy with work and your own love life, who am I to bother you with my problems?" Tears blur my vision and stain my glasses, rolling uncomfortably down the bridge of my nose. "Isn’t that what growing up is about?" I whisper, staring lifelessly down at my untouched tea. "Learning how to depend on yourself?"

"Riley, I don’t care if you’re fucking 80." Sehun barks, scaring me until he opens his arms, forgiveness swirling in his softened brown eyes. "You can come to me for anything."

"O-Okay," I mumble, hiding in his chest.

"Do you hear me?"

"Yes."

"I don’t care if you shave your relaxed hair, adopt a cat, or the world is on fire." He proclaims sternly. "No matter what, you can always come to me."

The comforting smell of fresh laundry on his clothes has my shoulders relaxing, my sobs quieting down to small hiccups. "Okay." 

"Good. Now take these sweaters back."

His words take a few moments to register in my sluggish mind. "Huh?" I blink, lifting my head off of him, sitting up fully and immediately recognizing the bundle of clothes in Luhan’s hands. "No," I shake my head, ignoring how dizzy I suddenly feel. "Sehun, those are yours-"

"And I want you to have them."

"I-" My heart constricts in conflict, "But-"

"But nothing. You act like I don’t know that your ass gets cold." He mutters grumpily, crossing his arms. "Keep them, alright?" Being the observant guy that he is, he picks up on my weary glance at Luhan. "Lu chipped in some of his too."

"Mine are comfier," His boyfriend jokes, smiling cheekily.

"Yah."

"You know it’s the truth."

"Only because you—yah! Why are you crying now?!"

"I just…" I sniffle, laughing softly. "I love you guys."

Luhan’s smile brightens while I whine over Sehun messing up my hair. "We love you more."

•••

May passes by in the blink of an eye, mature plants welcoming the upcoming summer heat. I love and hate this for two reasons. One, it’s a certain someone-who-shall-not-be-named birth month. Two, the dance competition is two weeks away. Two weeks. It is literally May 20th and I am sweating my hair out over it.

Why did I agree to this forsaken competition again? Oh right—I decided that a two-step routine is the equivalent of a love triangle. Nice going, Riley.

I sigh, wiping my forehead with the back of my arm. Two weeks until the competition means that my schedule is more packed. Yeah Park’s Publishing may be on an "easy going" break from publishing books right now, but I’m not getting a breather. 

Nope, the moment I jokingly told Jongin how I didn’t know what to do with all my free time, he brought up daily dance practice—no, he down right demanded it. And when I started to complain:

"What? It’s not like you have anything else better to do."

I’ve been seething over that for a week.

Huffing at the memory, I plop my bag not-so-subtly on a chair before looking at Jongin on the other side of the room.

"Glaring at me won’t help you perfect the choreo faster-"

"Suck my dick."

"Oh, baby," He grins, raising a brow. "I would if I could." He saunters his way over to me, his beautiful bronze skin already glowing in a thin sheen of sweat when he leans down to face me, "but I don’t mind either way."

I push him away with a hard roll of my eyes, "Let’s get this over with."

"Feisty," He humors. "Someone is feeling better today."

"Better enough to kick your ass," I mutter, tying up my hair in a messy bun.

"Let’s rehearse the second verse," He takes a swing of his water bottle, a serious expression on his features. "Then we’ll talk." 

"Bring it on," I lift my chin, playing tough despite the nervousness washing over me.

He nods, grabbing the stereo remote and getting into position. "Show me what you got."

We go over the steps one last time before we begin. The first half of the choreo goes smoothly… and then I stumble the moment the second chorus hits.

"Let’s take a break."

"No," I shake my head, resting my hands on my knees.

"Riley."

"One more time." I pant, trying to catch my breath. "I swear I got it, just-"

"We’ve been at it for 30 minutes."

"But-"

"Break. Now."

I flop to the floor in a tired heap, groaning loudly to annoy him. I’m grateful he called for a break though, my flat feet are crying for mercy like no one’s business. Maybe I should—"Ah," I sigh in relief.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking off my shoes," I mumble, throwing him a look over my shoulder, not liking his attitude. "My feet are dying over here."

Jongin raises a brow, leaning against the mirror on the other side of the room. "Your parents didn’t see a pediatrician about that?"

"Nope."

"Why?"

"Born and raised in America," I chirp. "The land of the free, Mother fucka."

Both his brows shoot up. "Are you feverous?"

"No," I mumble, fiddling with a loose string on my shirt. "It’s really hot out."

"Have you been sleeping?" His eyes narrow at my lack of response. "Riley?"

"Oh would you look at that, the ceiling tiles have a noticeable gap between them-"

"Sit down."

"I’m fine." I sigh, reluctantly dragging myself over to the only chair in the room.

"You won’t be if you keep this up." He points out, more than a little peeved. "Have you been drinking enough?"

"I-"

He thrusts his water bottle in front of me. "Drink this."

"But you drank from it!"

"I’ll give you mouth to mouth too if you don’t sit your ass down."

I blink, giving him a long, wide-eyed stare. "Why so serious?" The fed up expression on his face is enough of an answer. "Okay—okay! Fine." Inspecting the bottle for anything floating around on the bottom, I tilt my head back to pour some water in my mouth, mumbling with stuffed cheeks, "There, happy?"

Jongin just sighs, turning on a rotating fan. "Stay here. I don’t want you moving until you finish that bottle."

"Sir yes sir," I mutter, giving a little salute. Grinning when he glares sternly at me. He sighs before going back to the other side of the room.

Watching him practice his solo parts in the mirror, I leisurely sip from the bottle, noticing how his shirt sticks to his fit body. Jongin is tall, a bit broad, and lean. He has a dancer’s body and muscle in all the right places—I can’t imagine his diet. I shiver at the thought of it, checking my forehead. I’m not picky about fitness; I’m a bit on the curvy side myself. I rather have something to sink my fingers into. Speaking of which...

"Hey, Jongin?" I call him tentatively, continuing when he hums. "Why… Why did you make a choreo with me in mind?"

He doesn’t respond for a minute, and I wonder if he will until he goes over to retrieve something from his bag. "I always wanted to dance with you," He admits, throwing a towel around his neck. "To know what it was like to view your beauty up close." He bends his knee, bracing his foot against the wall as my eyes widen. "The way you move, twirl around, and glide across the floor. The blissed out expression on your face… You are at home on the dancefloor, and it shows." He looks up at me then. "You shine brighter than a million stars."

I forget how to breathe for a moment, staring at him with wide eyes and a racing heart.

"I’ve never been envious of Baekhyun but..." His sultry eyes meet mine again. "When it comes to you, it’s hard to fight my jealousy."

My lips part a few times, endless questions dying on the tip of my tongue. Realizing I’m gaping like a fish out of water, I settle for looking down with a hot blush.

Jongin chuckles, tossing his towel onto his bag. "Come on," He pushes off of the wall, walking over to me and taking me by the hand. "Let’s finish up for today."

"I can stand up on my own, you know?" I grumble. "...Thank you."

He just smiles before we take our positions in the middle of the room.

We take it from the top again, soaring through the routine without a hiccup. I put all my energy into not missing a step, dancing beside and around him with ease—

"Stop."

"What?" I blink, turning around to him. "What’s wrong now?"

"That."

"What?" I repeat, my eyes narrowing.

"That." He emphasises, gesturing to me. "You’re too tense. You need to relax."

"How do you expect me to relax, Jongin?" I mumble heatedly, hurt swelling inside of my chest. "I broke up with the love of my life. I had a shitty week. I can barely do the second verse of the choreo without breaking my ankles-"

"You can’t relax," He speaks up, suddenly standing in front of me. Staring into my eyes with his determined ones. "Because you don’t want to."

"I-"

"You fear what will happen if you do." He continues, holding me captive with his piercing gaze. "You fear the unknown."

"D-Don’t I have the right to...?" I hush, feeling my heart race the longer I look into his observant brown eyes. A part of me hates it; being read like an open book. My vulnerabilities and weak points on display without me wanting them to be. But this is Jongin.

He stares deep into my eyes, his minty breath washing over my cheeks. "Not on my watch."

There’s nothing to fear.

He selects a song for the stereo to play, and the moment a certain afrobeat instrumental plays through its speakers, I feel the urge to move my body deep in my soul.

"Let go," He encourages, turning around to meet my eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

Woman

Let me be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

I can be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

I’m intimidated by my reflection in the mirror. The sight of me with messy hair, dewy skin, baggy clothes, and my bare feet makes me feel like the wildest looking woman in the world… until I see the sadness and fear visible in my own eyes.

Let me be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

I can be your woman

Woman, woman, woman

Slowly, I move my hips to the beat, getting a feel for it while watching myself in the mirror. My awkward posture makes me tsk, shifting into a more flattering and stable position. 

What you need?

She give tenfold, come here, papa, plant your seed

She can grow it from her womb, a family

Provide lovin' overlooked and unappreciated, you see (Yeah)

The lyrics… A sense of empowerment washes over me in waves, motivating the swirl of my hips and the smile forming on my lips. The melody of the song begins to seep into my very bones, warming me up from the inside out.

You can reciprocate

I got delicious taste, you need a woman's touch in your place

Just protect her and keep her safe

Baby, worship my hips and waist

So feminine with grace

I touch your soul when you hear me say, "Boy"

Let me be your woman

Winding my waist feels like the most natural thing in the world, circling my wrists while bringing my hands back down to my sides. I can see Jongin’s proud smile from the corner of my eye.

My movements get more energetic as the chorus plays again, the repetitive lyrics flowing like the blood in my veins, felt deep in my very being. Hitting me on a level that very few things ever could.

I glide across the floor when the second verse begins, letting my hair loose and throwing my weight around. The soreness of my waist only makes me shimmer harder, fighting against the aches trying to hold me back—against the chains locked in my mind.

Princess or queen, tomboy or king (Yeah)

You've heard a lot, you've never seen (Nah)

Mother Earth, Mother Mary rise to the top

Divine feminine, I'm feminine (Why?)

Throwing my hands up, I smile as Jongin starts complimenting my movements, playing a smooth rhythmic cat and mouse game with him all over the dance studio. My bare feet on the wooden floor propels me forward, making me feel more connected with the Earth around me, with the woman I want to be.

I’ve caught up to him by the time the song ends, breathing heavily with giddiness pumping in my veins. For the first time in months, maybe even years, I feel like me again—I’ve found myself again.

A hand tucking hair behind my ear has my eyes snapping up to Jongin’s, the adoring expression in his chestnut brown eyes making me feel small and appreciated at the same time. He cradles my face in the palm of his hand, rubbing his thumb over the apple of my cheek. Tingles erupt on my skin; my heart swells with something I haven’t felt in a long time when he starts to lean in.

"You were out fucking Jongin."

I flinch away, pressing my back to the wall, my heart in my throat. "I-I," I look away, hot embarrassment painting my face red. "I don’t want to make you a rebound." A thought occurs to me at that moment: how much taller and stronger Jongin is than me. The consequence of my actions. The vacant practice room. Fearing the worst, I hold my breath, squeezing my eyes shut.

Nothing happens for a while, the silence dragging on for so long that I start to grow lightheaded, cursing myself for agreeing to all of this in the first place.

Are you happy?

I pause, thinking hard for a moment. Despite the rain cloud constantly hanging over my head, I am doing something that I love. Regardless of me looking like pure shit, Jongin sees a light in me. And against all the fucking odds, I… I feel liberated. I feel free.

With that, I open my eyes, staring fearlessly at the man in front of me.

To my surprise, Jongin smiles. "I don’t want to overstep my boundaries," He mumbles, resting his forehead on mine.

A smile breaks out on my face, putting my secret dimples on full display.

It’s finally D Day—the dance competition is just about to begin, and I can’t for the life of me find my bracelet.

"Do you really need that?" Jongin carefully ruffles his styled hair, squinting with one eye over at me.

"It’s for luck," I justify, searching both our bags.

"You depend on a silly little bracelet to give you luck?"

"My grandma made it for me," I snap, my blood pressure skyrocketing.

"Okay, okay—you," He gently takes me by the shoulders, directing me to his chair. "Sit. I’ll find it."

Finding that all-too-familiar 'no nonsense’ expression on his face, I sigh, carefully covering my eyes with my hand. Both of us got our makeup done for today. He’s got on a golden glimmer of eyeshadow to bring out the sultry brown of his eyes, and I’m rocking a burgundy shade that makes my eyes have their own sensual glare in the mirror.

Tucking my hair-sprayed hair behind my ear, I wince at the thought of washing it out later, but the end result is worth it. My brown hair is bone-straight, complementing Jongin’s lavender-gray, middle-parted hair. Not gonna lie, he’s a total eye-candy right now in that red jacket and mesh shirt, and his stage presence is to die for. His oozing confidence just pumps me up even more.

Watching him pull out my bracelet from some hidden department that I have never seen before in my life and come over to strap it onto my wrist with the gentlest touch has newfound hope blossoming in my heart. We came to perform and we came to perform well.

As if hearing my thoughts, Jongin looks up at me at that moment, nodding firmly.

I nod right back, smiling softly. Win or lose, we are going to give it our all.

We make our way out of the dressing room, listening for our cue from the staff member next to the gap leading out onto the stage. They give directions to someone in their headset before giving us the signal.

I can hear the crowd as we step onto the stage, vibrating the floor under us and my whole being with their excited cheers. Nerves aren't pumping furiously through my veins. No, pure adrenaline guides me forward, and the reassuring smile Jongin sends my way makes me at ease all the more.

When the lights dim and the music starts, my hands are already in my hair, my hips popping to the beat.

Just let it flow as it is for me.

As it moves, show me.

I slide down into a crouch, spreading my knees before rolling my neck to the beat. Quickly standing back up, I slowly run my hands through my hair, swaying my hips side to side. I stop moving to let the crowd focus on Jongin, watching him with a smile.

The party has been getting boring.

Jongin starts doing his own thing while I beckon him closer with a body roll, strutting to him on the other side of the stage. I strike a different pose along to the beat, rubbing my hands over my body and rolling my hips. 

Don’t hide it anymore for me

Sliding my hand down my chest, we lock eyes before the chorus hits.

The reason that hides your heart

Do you feel it triggering me a bit?

Here comes the fun part; we sync up our dance moves. Shooting each other little smiles while staying on beat. My long hair sways in the wind; the feeling of being free—free to be me striking me with a sense of comfort in this moment. Jongin catches my eye as if he feels it as well, his killer smirk morphing into a heartwarming smile.

Baby don’t play with me

I slow down to sway my hips to the beat while Jongin slides behind me, pressing his firm chest to my back. The ripples of his abs brush against me through the fabric of his mesh-shirt, warming my sun-kissed skin under the light heat of the partially cloudy sky. His hand tucks under my chin when I face him for the next lyric, "You’re my VIP."

(She talkin’ about)

We sync up again for the next part of the choreography, making me giggle in delight, beaming over the fact that I might have cried a hundred times practicing this choreo but I can finally say that I can dance it without breaking my ankles. And the proud smile on Jongin’s face adds onto that fact.

He points out to the crowd and we change positions as the pre chorus starts again. Jongin acts like the cool, smooth man that he is while I roll my way back to him, matching his moves before blowing a kiss to the crowd when the chorus kicks back in again.

Top down ya

It could be you and me, it could be you and me

I place my hand on Jongin’s shoulder, strutting around him while he shrugs off his jacket. Preparing for the bridge that we changed last minute. Now it’s his time to shine.

Now let me give you what you want tonight

You told me

I take a step back, focusing on complimenting his movements while he has his moment to woo the crowd. Those charming smirks and attractive smiles can steal the heart of anyone, especially the cheering people standing in the front row. There’s a lot of things I’ve learned recently about Jongin, and his unmistakable stage presence is one of them.

The chorus comes back one final time and we go all out. Dancing until our feet ache and the wind picks up around us. The sweet smell of tteokbokki and summer breeze in the air brings another smile to my face. Jongin gets down on the floor while I kneel on one knee to straddle his lap, looking into his eyes with his finger tucked under my chin as the last lyrics of the song fades away.

There’s a long moment of silence, and then the crowd erupts into cheers. Applauding so loud it overwhelms my sensitive ears. Jongin and I step forward to take one last bow, smiling at each other before making our way off stage… but a certain, persistent stare has my eyes flickering back to the crowd. The glimmer of silver hair in the front row is all I allow myself to see before hurrying to leave.

"That was," I start, gasping for breath by the time we reach the dressing room. "Fucking amazing!"

Jongin smiles, glancing over at me, "You liked it, huh?"

"Dude—I fucking lived for it!"

He laughs and it’s super cute, especially with his wide smile.

"That was so cool," I sigh, flopping down onto the couch.

Jongin raises a brow, a smile still on his plump lips. "Would you do it again?-"

"Hell no!" I squeak. "Well… Not unless it’s with you." His eyes dance under the painfully bright lights. "Stop smirking, I take it back."

"Don’t worry." He chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans back against the vanity table. "You’ll be the first one I call next time too."

We’re called back up onto the stage before I can reply, but the smile I beam his way speaks volumes. However, nerves are plaguing my mind this time around. There’s no mistaking the silver hair that I saw in the crowd.

Just as I thought, when we are standing next to the other contestants, there he is. Front and center. I close my eyes with a deep sigh. What the fuck, man? Why are you everywhere?! Can I catch a break from him please? Please?!

Tension builds in my body, but then something cracks.

You know what—

I clench my fists. Fuck him. It doesn’t matter if he’s here or not; he’s no longer a part of my life. Why should I care?

My eyes don’t stray far from the judge and Jongin, even with the constant itch of Baekhyun’s stare. Take a picture, it’ll last longer, asshole. 

The minutes seem to drag on as the judge gives his big speech, listing the criterias and rubric for calculating the winner. A whole lot of gibberish that I have no interest in listening to; I hope Jongin is paying attention. The knowing look he gives me when we briefly make eye contact confirms it. Yep, I smile sheepishly. Sorry.

That damn ticklish sensation on my skin still hasn’t moved while the couple in 3rd place steps forward to receive their reward. I swear to the heavens, Byun Baekhyun—

Snapping my neck around, I glare right at him despite my heart dropping at the sight.

He stands in the front row, sticking out like a sore thumb from the rest of the crowd in his black hoodie and dark jeans. The only thing that makes him pop is his ever-silver hair… and the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

My heart races. Are those—

"And the winner is: Jongin and Riley!"

The crowd roars in excitement, everyone standing up to applaud us as the judge hands Jongin the trophy and a helper places a ribbon around my shoulders. I can’t help but beam at Jongin, both of us smiling wide enough for our mouths to hurt later, but I don’t worry about that now. This is our moment. I throw my arms around him, laughing loudly when he sets down the trophy to spin me around in the air. 

"We did it!" I wrap my arm carefully around his neck, pumping my fist in the air.

Jongin sets me back down, keeping his arms loosely around my waist. "You," He plants a kiss on the top of my head, "did it."

I can’t erase the smile on my face or the glee in my heart even if I tried. My eyes glance back out at the crowd while he goes around congratulating the other contestants, immediately locking onto those soul-sucking, puppy brown eyes. Half a year later and his eyes never fail to make me feel nothing and everything all at once. But I won’t let that define me: I’m not Baekhyun’s woman anymore.

Spectators in the crowd around him are buzzing with energy, dancing to the outro music they are playing overhead while he continues to stand stock-still, his brown eyes focused on me. 

My mind drifts for a second, imagining what it would have been like to be standing up on this stage with him, winning the competition with him by my side. I acknowledge it, let my mind have its little reminiscing moment—and then nip it right in the bud.

I don’t want to live a life of 'What ifs?’ anymore—I want to experience those 'Why nots?’ instead.

I sense Jongin before he steps closer, his chest brushing against the back of my arm. "Are you ready to go?" He asks, his lips grazing my ear.

I continue to lock eyes with Baekhyun, laughing inwardly at the unreadable expression on his face and the lack of a sparkle in his eyes. And when that tall raven from months ago runs to pull him into a hug, my gaze doesn’t waver from his in the slightest. "Yes." I turn my back on him and rest my hand on Jongin’s bicep with a swirl of my hips, peeking at him from under my eyelashes.

He smiles down at me, understanding dawning in his eyes. We link our arms together while walking backstage and out of the stadium.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 P(1)  P(2) —– P(3)  P(4) —– P(5)  P(6) ✓ ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)  P(2)

A/N: Team Jongin or Team Baekhyun? After that dance practice scene, my heart is stuck somewhere in between 💔

Hiya! Long time no see (^-^)

I don't have much to say ahh (>.<) my brain is fried. The emotions in this chapter came from a week of sleepless nights and a marathon of Doja Cat's Planet Her <3 I still got 10 scenes to finish up before Six Phases will be completed. This isn't the end! Just the best cliffhanger I could do with a 100+ page doc (thanks to my nearsightedness. font-size 16 is a lifesaver)

I might suddenly drop the Finale out of nowhere :'D everything depends on Riley~

Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story!! 🥺🥰🌸💗 Writing this baby (haha) is my favorite thing to do and to share it with all of you means the world to me <333 Alright, I'll stop being mushy. Have a great weekend, lovelies! See you as soon as the Finale is done~

Happy two years of Un Village & city lights!!

Thank you endless Baekhyunee for inspiring me. I wouldn't be here without you ❤️

[johannstutt413]

(requested by mathmaticalknight; continuing from this)

As Tomimi settled into her seat for the Tail Club meeting, and Provence took a breath to start talking, a pair of small hands knocked on the door. The group turned their attention to the door as the Lupo went forward with the whole “speaking” thing. “Yes?”

“The posters said this is a club for people with tails?” Suzuran peeked around the door. “I have a lot of tails, and I have some questions about it.”

“Morti thought I should come, too,” Shamare said, also peering around the door. She’d actually come because Suzuran had invited her, but that wasn’t the point.

The trio (including a sort-of-visible Manticore) set about adding some more seats to their circle, but as they did, there was another knock. “Hey, I saw a poster for a ‘Tail Club.’ Is this enough tail to join?” Pramanix’s mound of Feline floof slapped the threshold as she walked into view.

“Sure!” Provence gestured to the chair circle. “We’re working on widening the circle right now, but we’re pretty sure we have enough chairs for everyone.”

“We brought a few just in case!” Blemishine replied to an unverbalized question as she, her sister, and her aunt walked in as well. Tripling in the span of one meeting...what a turnout!

The club leader, once everyone was settled in, stood up to address them. “Wow. Um, first, I’m glad everyone could make it! We’ll go around the room and get everyone’s names, but before we do, I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page. I know Manty’s cute poster calls us ‘Tail Club,’ but we’re not an after-school club or something; we’re a support group and an activist group more than anything, in that we lobby the Doctor and the rest of leadership on behalf of the needs of Operators, ourselves included, with tails that are especially cumbersome, high-maintenance, or just...big. Alright, with that out of the way, I’m Provence! Hi! I’m the president, I guess, of the Tail Club, and no, it’s not because I have the biggest tail. We might actually do an election or something now that we have more members...hmm. We’ll figure it out! Alright, right or left, you two pick.”

“I-I’ll go...” Manticore stood up as the Lupo sat down. “I’m the club’s...vice-president. If you have...any questions, you can...come and find me, or...you can tell Estelle or Tomimi...and they’ll find me...and then I’ll find you...Thank you...”

“Codename’s Whislash, but go on ahead and call me Zofia. Brought myself and my sisters with me when I saw the poster because, well, we’ve got fluffy business in the back and wanna be in solidarity with similar folks. It’s neat to see all kinds of tail- what are you giggling about, Maria?”

Blemishine didn’t stifle her laughter as she took her turn. “Nothing, aun- ‘sis.’ Maria ‘Blemishine’ Nearl at your service!”

“And I am Margaret ‘Nearl’ Nearl.” She smiled at the repetition. “Thank you for taking the initiative and starting this group, Provence; the wider thresholds have already saved me at least one embarrassing entrapment.”

“No problem, but Tomimi’s the one to thank for that one.” The president gestured to the Archosaurian, who gave a little wave as everyone else in the room clapped.

Suzuran waited for the applause to subside before taking her turn. “Good afternoon. I’m Lisa, or Suzuran, as you like. I have a lot of tails, which is like having one big tail, and I saw the poster and thought my friend Shamare might want some help, too. Isn’t that right, Shamare?”

“Um...Yeah.” The Vulpo’s misdirection had been foiled, so she just carried on. “Morti’s gonna sit with me, even though he doesn’t have a big tail, because he’ll remember if I forget what we talk about. He likes being in the same room as priestesses, too.”

“Your doll understands flattery, then. That’s interesting. Anya ‘Pramanix’ Silverash, Karlan Saintess and in need of some tail care advice - I’m getting tired of shedding fur on corners. I’ll help if I can, too, but most of you have a lot more to worry about than me, it looks like.” It was actually kind of humbling for the Feline to sit in a room with so many people with Tails of Unusual Size. Hers was fluffy and silky smooth, true, but just look at the Archosaurian.

The Archosaurian whose turn it was, in fact. “Hi. I’m Tomimi, and that’s the only name I have. I came here for help, and Provence and Manty have been really helpful, and they’re really nice, so I keep coming back. Let’s, uh...Let’s all get along!” She learned that one from Young Things Magazine.

“Thank you, Tommy!” Provence clapped her hands; she could already tell she was going to enjoy this ‘proper president’ thing. “Alright, first order of business for our first-timers: what problems are you having? Anya, you mentioned yours a bit already, so would you be willing to start?” 

“Oh, sure. I’ve always had a fluffy tail, and it’s pretty versatile, but there’s this one thing that’s always bugged me about it...”

After going around the room, sharing some tips and tricks for better grooming, and even breaking off into groups for tail-brushing time (Zofia suggested it, and everyone liked the sound of it), the meeting adjourned after a productive two-hour session. Suzuran found a broom to sweep up the sheddings (including scales from Tomimi - she was nearly done with her shedding cycle, but not quite), and Shamare waited for her in a chair near the entrance, whispering to Morti. Tomimi approached her, curious. “Shamare?”

“Hmm?” The harbinger frowned. “It’s rude to interrupt a conversation.”

“You can hear him?” She leaned in, trying to catch its voice.

The Vulpo pulled back into the upholstery. “I can. Do you want to?”

“I don’t think so.” The Caster sat on the floor in front of her. “Is he nice?”

“He takes the bad feelings away, and he likes talking to people.” She rubbed his head, and Tomimi could’ve sworn the stitched smile curled a little more.

That convinced her. “Did you make Morti?”

“No,” Shamare replied, “but I did give him his body.”

“Could you make a doll for me to give to my girlfriend? I don’t want her to be lonely when she’s busy in her office.”

The oracle blinked. “You want me to do that?”

“Mmhmm.” The Archosaurian gave her a toothy smile. “I like your style.”

“...Okay, but you have to get me the stuffing. My doctor found out I stuffed Morti with Originum and she wasn’t happy, but I need something to put in your doll.” The Vulpo didn’t want to blush, but it seemed Morti didn’t feel like intervening for her.

Suzuran skipped over to the pair, sweeping finished. “Hi, Tommy! Ready to go, Shamare?”

“One more thing.” She hopped off her chair. “Can I have one of your scales?”

“Okay.” The Caster lifted her tail and smacked the ground; a small tremor shook their immediate vicinity, and several scales fell off.

Shamare took a few, put the rest in the bucket her friend had filled while sweeping, and nodded to Tomimi. “I’ll bring your doll to the next meeting.”

“Thanks.” She watched the pair leave, cocking her head. ‘Those two are like opposites...Just like Gav and me.’

“Well, I didn’t meet any cute bachelors, but the tail talk is super nice,” Whislash noted as the Nearls packed up their chairs.

Provence chuckled. “Is that why you really came, Zofia?”

“M-maybe.” She sighed. “Look, I don’t like making a big deal out of it, since I’m only the eldest by a couple years, but it’s getting harder to find my kind of guy out in the wild. You have someone special?”

“Sure do! My girlfriend and I met here at Rhodes Island, actually.”

The Kuranta’s ears perked up as her nieces left her to her conversation; they had other stuff to do, especially while she was distracted. “Girlfriend? That’s okay here?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Then the Lupo remembered where the Nearls were from. “Oh, right, you’re from Kazimierz. Yeah, RI doesn’t discriminate like some other companies...or governments, either.”

“Huh...You, uh, know anyone on the market? They don’t even have to be that cute.” Saying the words out loud made her blush.

The Sniper smiled as she slipped her phone out of her pocket. “Actually, I think I know just the person. Walk and talk?”

“Sure!” Whislash’s tail swished behind her as she turned to leave, glowing a bit. “Ooh, there’s a movie playing tonight I’ve been wanting to see, if they like that kinda thing.”

“You can ask them - I’m sending you their number now.” Provence looked back as she passed the light switch; Tomimi was still there, so she left them on.

Manty was, too, although the Lupo had missed her at a glance; after all, they had a double date themselves...the Manticore needed her girlfriend to bear witness to the thicc she was exposed to on a daily basis. It just wasn’t fair. “Hey, Tommy...why do you think...everyone started coming today? We’ve had posters...for a couple weeks now.”

“Oh, Gav started telling people about it, too.” The Archosaurian was still seated in front of the chair. “Estelle is an Archosaurian, isn’t she?”

“She is...Why do you ask?”

The Caster looked back at her tail. “In my village, there’s a lot of arguing about which is better - big or small tails. I wonder if other Archosaurians have that debate, too.”

...The Specialist had a feeling she knew the answer to that.

[sohin-ace]

Doppio - Frog Princess

Fairy tale AU and lots of love for my small man.

Doppio dragged his feet across the garden, restless and desperate. He sighed and whined to himself, taking the opportunity of being all alone to voice his pain and concerns, something he was never allowed to do.

"Aww jeez... This prince life isn't made for me..."

He huffed again and tugged at his very uncomfortable, gold adorned collar that was almost suffocating him.

Doppio looked around him, sure enough, the tall trees surrounding him did a great job at hiding him from the potential workers on the castle grounds that could possibly be looking for him.

He could finally have a little moment for himself and sneak out, maybe to cry to himself a little bit.

"O-ow... That still hurts..." The boy whined and rubbed on his bruised fingers, the results of angry professors punishing him for each mistakes he made. "I'm no good, I can't do anything right..."

That's right. Prince Doppio was a clumsy and anxious boy who lacked capacity in every domain. He always tried his best and obeyed every and each order, he wasn't undisciplined, oh no, young Doppio was a good boy.

He was just bad. He hardly managed to keep the required straight stance for more than ten seconds, was better at petting the horses than at riding them, couldn't follow etiquette at all, or protocol, was extremely forgetful and sadly, mother nature did not grace him with the strongest physical traits a young man his age was expected to have.

"Tch... Trish was so popular everyone courted her and she was so easy to marry, but me... No one would want to marry a good-for-nothing like me..."

He angrily kicked some rock and held his back that cracked at the movement, in pain, squeezing his eyes shut and sobbing at the sore feeling. That last lesson of fencing went so terribly wrong, how did the others do it?

"I'm so tired... Why meee...?"

"Ribbit!"

"Huh?" Doppio was startled at the very sudden but intriguing croaky sound and approached its direction near the pond.

He couldn't see anything at first, but then a tiny little creature jumped out of its hiding place. Doppio's honey eyes widened and he quickly wiped his warm tears, crouching down towards the animal.

"A frog!" He exclaimed happily, almost like a small child, new to the world. "Hi! You're so tiny, what's your name?"

"Ribbit!"

He knew very well the animal couldn't respond to him with actual words, but just the feeling of having even a one-sided conversation soothed a bit of his loneliness down. He cupped his hands together to invite the frog in, and the animal obliged by jumping on them.

He looked down and observed the chubby little creature. It had the cutest, roundest eyes, almost sparkly in the dim forest light, its green color was so bright and homogenous, there weren't any marks or patterns that frogs usually had on their skin. Even its limbs were tiny and soft, Doppio couldn't help but pet it with one careful and shaky finger.

"O-ooh! Oh my god!" He squealed uncontrollably. "You're so squishy!"

"Ribbit ribbit!"

The quiet and high-pitched croak felt so pleasant to his ears, it meddled with the sound of the water next to him and made him feel so much at peace. He loved to hear that cute sound and how the frog's belly puffed up like a balloon with each croak.

"What are you? A boy or a girl? I'd say you're a girl because you're super pretty and have a tiny voice."

"Ribbit Ribbit! Ribbit Ribbit!"

Doppio gasped loudly. "D-did I get it right?! Oohh yes!! That's so cool! Well... Not like I would have minded if you were a boy... Or both... Wait, do frogs have genders? Oh it doesn't matter."

The young prince felt like this frog was currently the only thing keeping him sane. He had no one else to talk to, there was no one who actually cared for his own well-being and he had no friends.

The only real person to actually show him some kind of recognition and love was none other than the King Diavolo himself. But even his sweet words and affection seemed somewhat back-handed and laced with pressure and severity.

"You know, you're lucky, little thing..." Doppio started with melancholy. "You don't have to worry so much about your life... I'm bad at everything and I'm all alone... I don't know what to do..."

"Ri-rib, ribbit!"

"Even if a nice princess wanted to marry me, I would turn her down because she would deserve better... Sometimes I wish I could disappear..."

"Ribb-ribbit!"

Doppio's eyes softened on the small frog. That's how sad and pathetic he was. Talking his problems out with a frog.

"Why do I feel like you actually understand me...? Thank you for listening to me and being my only friend."

Without even thinking, he lifted the small frog and brought it towards his face, giving it the tiniest of pecks. He smiled at how weird the feeling was, the animal was cold and slightly humid, a bit sticky too which he did not mind surprisingly.

He sighed and looked up mindlessly before his eyes were suddenly striked by a blinding flash of light.

"Wh-what the hell?!"

The light flashed brighter and brighter, coming from the frog in his hands. What was going on?

Doppio could only drop the creature and shield his eyes with his arms desperately as the frog sparkled like a thousand fireflies and grew in size.

The boy squinted his eyes shut and fell back right onto his butt before he felt a strong weight pressing on him, the mass eventually pinning him down onto the ground.

"U-uughh..." He groaned and rubbed his head, a sharp headache from the harsh light hitting his sensitive eyes still slowly fading.

He looked down only for his eyes to widen like saucers. He couldn't believe what he was currently witnessing and thought that maybe he went blind from the flash and was hallucinating right now.

The weight on top of him revealed to be the figure of a girl laying unconscious. He couldn't see her face buried in his chest, but he could make out her beautiful hair, smooth skin tone and the very frilly green dress she was wearing.

And that wasn't just any dress either, the golden ornaments, the tulle, the silk, the lace, the satin... That was an expensive dress, was she...could she be... A nobleswoman? A baroness? A...

...A princess?

"A-aah..." The girl moaned quietly before pushing herself up, not without struggle and Doppio gasped.

"A-are you okay signori-..." The boy could barely finish his sentence and only mumbled open-mouthed nonsense.

He was beyond mesmerized at the beauty who had just ever-so-slowly lifted her face up to look at him. Her shining wide eyes, her innocent glossy lips, her rose dusted cheeks and her hair framing her perfect face made him believe he just stumbled into some sort of forest Goddess.

"Ah-I... U-uuhm.. Y-you...uh.. W-ah-...eh... I-I'm..." He stammered awkwardly, his brain melting like ice in summer as his face and ears burned a crimson red, his breath catching in his now dry throat.

"Ah! My stars!" The girl gasped as she hovered over the immensely flustered prince. "I am so sorry! I must be crushing you!"

The young girl fretted anxiously before trying to scramble over on her knees and straighten herself up to give the poor man some much needed space, but as soon as she did, she was hit with a wave of dizziness and lost balance again. Doppio was quick to sit up and catch her against his chest, wrapping careful arms around her.

"A-are you okay, miss? What happened to you? What's going on?" The boy asked worriedly, regaining his composure slowly.

"Ah y-yes... It's just... It's been so long since I've been glamoured..."

"You've been... Glamoured?" Doppio couldn't be more confused than this, but the girl explained further as she leaned back slightly.

Her name was Y/N L/N, daughter of the King L/N. Many years ago, she had been the victim of a curse cast by the one and only sorcerer Dio, who was overcome by fury and rage against anyone affiliated with the Joestar Empire, or those who refused to become one of his pets, casting spells after spells, and curses after curses.

"He turned me into a frog and swore to me that nobody would ever come to save me from my demise... But you..." Y/N looked up at Doppio's honey eyes and couldn't help the tears pooling at her eyes.

She was free, at last.

"I was all alone... And you came here... My savior..."

Her soft voice cracked with thick emotions and she stared into Doppio's golden eyes with soft ones, her vision blurred by warm tears. Doppio gasped lightly, moved by her story and she shyly wiped her tears.

"A-ah, forgive me! How shameful of me, to weep in front of a prince like this... I'm just.. So..."

"No, princess, don't apologize." He gently held her wrists to pull them away from her timid face. "You have the right to be overwhelmed... Nobody's here, besides... I cried too, earlier, in front of you. Nothing wrong with showing your emotions."

She sighed dreamily at his gentle words and soft touches, the now more confident boy stirring her heart. "What is your name, my prince?"

"Doppio." He gulped, stiff as a rock at her saccharine gaze and tone. "Doppio Vinegar."

"You're a good person, Doppio..." She breathed out, her words dripping with warm sincerity. Doppio's heart could only skip beats at each and every one of her actions.

The boy may be clumsy and bashful, he surely wasn't dense. He well knew he was deeply falling in love with this frog princess, but something in him told him she may not be completely disinterested in him either, despite his overall appearance and personality.

But maybe, just maybe, it was because she didn't know him enough. She didn't know this extent of his foolishness, how worthless of a man he truly was. This was the perfect opportunity for her to just push him away and run back home, only to never see him again.

But against all he could have ever expected, he was completely shaken out of his low self-esteem filled transe when he felt her leaning her delicate hands and head against his chest, closing her eyes and relishing in his warm hold still on her.

"Prince Doppio... I feel so safe when I'm in your arms... I'll forever be grateful for granting me my deepest wish..." She lifted her head just enough to look at his blushing freckled face, his mouth agape. "How could I ever reward you?"

Was she... Really serious? Nobody has ever told him they felt good around him. Nobody has ever felt safe around the small and skinny man that was Doppio. Could he be strong enough for her?

Well one thing was positive, he didn't want to let her go, and if he had to eat razor blades to protect her, he would do it without batting an eye.

She actually wanted to, or at least seemed to, stay with him. She felt grateful, for him, of all people!

He hoped she wouldn't hear his heart go feral in his chest. She would do... Anything for him? Could he be selfish? Could he ask the inimaginable? Would she say yes? He wouldn't force her but... He would love to think about himself only, just this once in his life.

He had nothing to lose.

He gently grabbed both her hands in his surprisingly big ones, squeezing gently and rubbing his thumbs over her soft skin, as if to want to imprint his love onto her.

"Ma-... Marry me, Princess Y/N!" He confessed with loud yet clear determination. "Please, be mine! I will cherish you like my most prized treasure, you will never be alone and feel unsafe again! I promise my entire life to you, please promise me yours!"

She widened her eyes at his sudden assertiveness and his strong, meaningful words. The pink boy in front of her shook her heart in so many ways, and she had already lost everything to Dio in the past. She had absolutely no reason to deny, now did she?

The girl smiled bright and slowly pulled her hands out of his grasp, only to immediately wrap her arms around her hero's neck, nuzzling her face against him lovingly.

"Yes! I accept... my sweet Doppio."

[chipper-smol]

Vanilla 1 Chain

Prompt: The Aftermath of Ghost banishing the Grimm Troupe from the Troupe’s perspective.

lAST ONE!

( https://twitter.com/BerryCannibal )

Grimm let out a hum as he danced with himself, going through yet another imaginary routine as he allowed his thoughts to drift. The tent was unusually quiet without Brumm around - he was still surprised that his worried conduit had offered to take up a torch and pass out some of the scarlet flame this time around, perhaps he was finally warming up to the ritual? - allowing the perfect space for him to practice his final audience with The Pale King’s vessel.

He chuckled to himself at the memory of that wyrm... Always so frazzled, with his thoughts scattered all about, never in one place. He never did get to teach that fool how to relax before he up and disappeared, leaving this kingdom to be ravaged by Her incurable sickness. What a shame...

He was just coming out of a twirl when he felt a sharp pain in his chest. His knees buckled. He fell. Where were the Grimmkin when he needed them?

Letting out a faint growl, he tried to get back onto his feet as he clutched his- His... He looked down to where his hand was ​supposed ​to be touching the smooth, red carapace of his chest, horrified at the sight that greeted him. An open wound, leaking with bright, scarlet flame where the heart of any normal bug was supposed to be located. It was only after that first moment of shock that the pain set in.

Collapsing to the ground once more, Grimm let out a roar of misery and shock and anguish and pure, unfiltered ​agony​. It felt as if the fires that once kept him fed and warm as a child was now burning him up from the inside, taking every part of his body with them. Under his claws he felt his body coming apart, leaving less and less shell to grip on to as he was consumed by what once kept him alive. ​What was happening? This was not how the ritual went. This was not ​supposed ​to happen-

~ Curtains closed. Lights out. Our lead actor has disappeared. ~

Grimm jerked up into a sitting position, breath laboured and raspy as he clutched his chest. It was solid now. Ok. He wasn’t dead, at least. The legacy didn’t end with him as he had feared when... Wait.

He glanced around the room, feeling his metaphorical heart sink when he saw the stitched-together crimson and plum and wine-coloured fabrics that covered the floor, the ever-gently pulsing veins, the scarlet, firelit lanterns... He wasn’t in the physical realm anymore, he quickly realized.

Rolling over, he grabbed a small hand mirror from beside the bed, frantically checking his physical appearance. The ritual hadn’t failed, had it? No. It was still going if the coal colouring of his crescent-shaped horns was anything to go by. Then that must’ve meant...

Oh. Oh, that ​traitor.​

Grimm could feel a growl bubbling up from his chest as he considered what might’ve happened. He must’ve tried to stop the ritual ​early,​ perhaps even tried to ​kill​ the troupe as a whole by banishing them back to the dream realm. He must’ve manipulated Grimms poor co-actor in this important play into following him, they seemed so glad to help out with the ritual, after all...

Wait. The ritual. The child. Where was the child? Why hadn’t it called out to him yet? Where was the child?

Frantically, and yet gently, he began searching through the satin sheets of the bed he had woken up in. If the child wasn’t dead, it had to be there somewhere, right? Right? Ri- Ah. There it was...

He carefully picked up the limp grimmchild, studying it for a moment. It worried him how he could only barely see it’s chest move, and it wasn’t chirping or making any other kind of noise at him like it usually would, even in its sleep. Not that one could truly sleep in the dream realm.

“My child...” He rasped, quietly, holding it close to his chest, still feeling the gentle pulse of fire inside it. It was still alive, that much was true, but it would not remain that way for long at this stage of the ritual. It would need more flame, and quickly, but finding it could be difficult without his grimmkin to scour the vast wastelands between kingdoms for something worthy of the presence of the troupe in its entirety. Sighing, he cradled his child close as he sat for a long moment in hopelessness, considering his options.

“Marintide...” A voice murmured in his mind, the rasp undoubtedly belonging to The Nightmare King himself.

Right. Of course. They had received another call while performing their ritual in Hallownest. The other kingdom was far geographically, but travelling large distances had never been

much of a problem for the troupe. But then again, the troupe hadn’t been in this situation for several centuries. Last time they were banished was way back in-

A soft cough and whine of complaint sounded from the starving child. Right. Best not to dwell on that with a starving grimmchild in his arms.

Slowly, Grimm laid back down on the satin bed, still holding the child close to his chest as he focused on the brief glimpses he had been given of the kingdom when they had received their call. He admittedly struggled a little with remembering the less interesting details, such as the dying corals and thick bramble forests, but he managed none the less.

--

Waking up on cold, hard stone was not a welcome experience, but it was the best way to tell that they had arrived. Huffing as he got up, Grimm took a moment to look around. Without the Grimmkin to go before him and set up a comfortably warm tent, he was immediately exposed to the cold breeze coming in from the ocean and the sight of the beautifully ruined architecture that once was this great kingdom.

The stone beneath his feet was a brilliant cobalt blue, and he could see the sunlight reflecting off something gold in the distance. Sunlight? Ah. An aboveground kingdom, then. Something that looked like a lighthouse of sorts was off in the distance as well, just barely visible if he squinted through the gleam of gold from fallen pillars and monuments. The sun was glinting off the sea as well, the water so reflective that he almost missed the large, pale form that smoothly broke the surface and went back under in the same movement. A seawyrm, perhaps. He had been told of these before, though he couldn’t recall much...

Shaking his head to clear his mind of thought and clutching the grimmchild closer still, he made his way through the ruins towards the woods he had seen. Extracting flame from living creatures was a painful process for both him and the second party, but in this case, it would have to be done. The Grimm lineage would not end with him.

Stepping into the woods, there was immediate rustling to his left. He barely had time to think before a large, hunter-esque creature had him pinned to the ground, teeth bared, ready to end him.

He remained calm, though, reaching up and firmly placing his open palm over its eyes as he focused, sending into a deep, nightmare-ridden sleep... Sighing, Grimm nudged the large creature off of him, finally untucking the grimmchild from his cape. His expression quickly dropped when he saw the state they were in, flopping over limply in his hands instead of flying up and readily feasting on the nightmares of the sleeping hunter.

This was bad. This was really bad.

Quickly, he crouched down by the sleeping hunter, carefully placing his child upon their head. “Sorry about this...” He murmured, though he knew his apology would never be heard, though he knew there was no forgiveness to be had for what he was about to do.

Then, he started chanting.

The words that spilt from his lips made the fire inside him roar back to life. It was painful, but he had to endure. For his child. For the troupe. He gritted his teeth together to keep himself from screaming, wanting so dearly not to distress his child...

“Ngahhh...”

Grimm glanced up at the noise, finally stopping his chanting, smiling when he saw his child just as lively as ever. But...

He brought his hand up, gently touching his left horn, quickly finding a large patch missing, replaced by openly roaring scarlet fire. He was weakening, he realized, tucking the child close once more. They would need to finish the ritual soon. He’d just need to find Brumm so-

Right. Brumm wasn’t part of the troupe anymore. That traitor.

He didn’t have a conduit now. And he didn’t have a helper either. As sure as he was that he could get the vessel to meet him outside Hallownest, the banishment ritual would not allow him within several miles of the place.

He’d have to wait.

Slowly wasting away into a fire ghost, he’d have to wait.

He’d be willing to make that sacrifice for his child, yes.

He’d keep them alive and safe until a proper ritual could be conducted again, or until he finally grew unable to help it and it’d have to starve.

He just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

( donotgogently )

( @wasabi-arts​ )

Grimm pets the small creature in his arms, looking over Dirtmouth from the cliff. “What a shame for our little friend to abandon you in such a place,” he cooed, starting his descent down king’s pass, “ and a place so dangerous and cold. To think that vessel didn't even bring you back to our Trope.” The child purred in his arms, content with the situation despite the abandonment.

The trek back to the troupe wasn’t long, and Grimm made his way into the tent. “Good evening, Master.” Brumm said, already offering to take the torch from Grimm’s hands, surprised by the sight of the child, as well as Grimm’s damaged horn. “Master, why do you hold the child? And may I ask what happened to your right horn?” Grimm simply smiled at Brumm, dismissing Brumm’s second question while petting the child. “I hate to admit such a circumstance, but I do believe our little visitor has abandoned the child. Brumm was silent for a moment, looking at the child. He didn’t like the idea of Grimm dying for the sake of a ritual, and would much rather let the ritual die. At least for a bit longer, if it must continue.

“Why do you think they abandoned it?” Brumm asked, curious. “The traveler seems attached to it.” With a thoughtful nod from Grimm, he pet the child once more to hear it purr. “Maybe it has something to do with the roar heard earlier?”

“Roar?” Grimm asked, cocking his head with curiosity. “I heard no such thing.”

Brumm was surprised at this comment, stopping his music at the thought. “But Master, the roar was quite loud. It rattled the tents of our troupe and the homes of this here town. The bug near the bench described it as something akin to a cry.”

“I see...”

Grimm looked out of the tent in the direction of the crossroads. The abandoned Vessel of the Pale King himself had likely gone down below, Grimm thought. That ​was the location of the black egg that the king set up long ago to contain the infection. And since The Knight was a vessel themself, that is likely where they went.

“I don't think we’ll see them for a while, my dear Brumm.” The child snored in his arms. “May I ask why not?” “Well, do believe our small friend has gone to fight the creature inside the

crossroads.” “...”

Brumm looked back at Grimm’s shattered horn. “Master,”he asked,resuming his music,”May I ask what happened to your horn?”

Grimm turned away from the tent’s entrance to face Brumm.

“Ah, I almost forgot.” He stated, touching the broken spot with his hand.”I had gotten into a bit of a scuffle with the creatures up in the cliffs trying to obtain the child.” The spot hurt, yes, however Grimm paid it no mind. It was merely a minor injury, he was far more concerned about the child in his arms.

“Well, Brumm, we should take care of the child in the knight’s absence, hm?”

Brumm nodded in agreement. “I do think we should take care of your injury too, Master.”

( @ouliarts​ )

( @null-icon )

It is the dead of night and the big top is quiet with the whispers of a phantomly audience. Your Master had told you to keep watch before he had rushed out in a hurry - the fastest you’ve seen him move outside of performance - but it is still the same dark, dreary town at the base of the looming cliffs off to the left. Winds still whipped about and crept underneath the tent fabrics, the scarlet haze of an ethereal presence flickers with the chill, and with a rumbling sigh gathered from the depths of your chest, you reach behind you to pull out your trusty accordions and begin to play a slow melody from something beyond your time as a Troupe member. It’s a delicate number though sharp and stuttered even to your skilled hands, suggesting that the you of another lifetime had not gotten to learn it well, but you are alone with your thoughts and the mumble of an uncaring audience so you practice and improvise in hopes of making it something worth playing for someone beyond deserving.

The tent flaps flutter open long after you’ve sat down with your legs crossed and your instrument falls silent. The winds outside had gotten stronger, but it was hardly an observation relevant when shortly after the flaps are sealed you feel your fur near singing from the blast of furious heat. Where you previously would have no need to look up at the looming figure that storms past, you can’t help but to draw your gaze upon him. His stance is proud and he glides elegantly through the entrance chamber, nodding to you his curt greeting as he adjusts something under his thin cloak. You would have assumed nothing was off if he wasn’t radiating the hellish heat of his rage, and when he exited into the main ring, one of the heads of his curving black horns snapped clean off bleeding an otherworldly vermillion that trickled into his wiry fabrics.

Sometime when the sun should have broken over the peaks, you decide to pay your Master a visit, your curiosity and concern uncharacteristically getting the best of you. You don’t get much more than a few strides into his secluded part of the big top when the maroon walls shudder despite his quiet rasp, “I do not believe I summoned you, Brumm.” 

“Mmmrr… So it may be. You are not well.”

“Is that so? What makes you question my state of being? What is it you find in the need to bother my rest?”

“The tent still simmers with your anger. My sight did not deceive me when I spotted your-” You are interrupted when the soft grizzle sounds, the pale pink of small irises blinking through where your Master is concealed. “... If that is all you dare approach me for, be on your way, Brumm. You have disturbed me, and now my child. Let us sleep.”

“Have you bandaged yourself, Master?” The hesitance you are greeted with tells you all you need to know, and you go digging in your fur for the roll of fabric you sew onto the shreds of your patchy sleeves. “Mmmh. Let me cover the wound, then I will leave.”

“I do not remember giving you permission.” “I do not require it for this.” Grimm uncovering himself enough for cat-like eyes to stare into your mask is simply affirmation to your statement. His horn had stopped oozing, now simply glowing dimly, but still you settle beside him to begin carefully swathing his horn in gray linen. “Did you fight, Master?” “Yes.”

“What for?” “My child. You must understand, the child is the future of this troupe. Of us.”

“Hrm. Why was the Grimmchild beyond the big top?”

“I do not know, Brumm, but it does not matter. Our caller approaches us soon, and the ritual will soon begin. That is what’s most important.” After the timbre of his voice falls out, you have nothing left to say and so you shift the rest of your energy into securing the wrap you have now made. “It will grow back, but thank you regardless, Brumm.” And when you turn to leave as promised, Grimm speaks up again. 

“Will you play me a song, musician?”

( https://twitter.com/Heck_Yena )

( tfwhynot)

The troupe was always on the move. When the ritual wasn’t in the picture they, for the most part, had to travel the old fashion way. The tents could be instantly packed and unpacked with a snap of Grimm’s fingers, coming in and out of the Nightmare realm with ease. The Grimmkin were a similar story, though they themselves were in control of which realm they were in at any time. It was the more unique bugs that couldn’t though, Brumm, Divine, and the Grimmsteads were anchored to the waking realm.

Grimm led the caravan on a wagon all his own. It held everything he needed to plan, maps, lists of supplies they had or needed, and written plans for performances of future and past. Brumm followed in the wagon behind. It carried all the other things that didn’t originate from the nightmare heart; containing currencies from lands of all sorts. Things to trade away for other things they may need or want, rations of food and water, and nicknacks collected for sentimental purposes.  In the very back, the strongest and most loyal steed followed, wheeling Divine’s wagon with them. Jars of the various substances she excreted were stashed, herbs, and remedies, each with their own uses.

Brumm’s music floated around the caravan, the familiar tunes of his accordion helping fight off complete boredom. Grimmkin popped in and out, joking and chatting among themselves. The newest of them excited to be on the road again, the long darkness to come not quite setting in on them yet.

The road they traveled slowly grew rough, the wagon wheels bouncing slightly on the rocks that were sprinkled across the road. Two mountains off in the distance came into view, a thin and winding path was carved through, old and uncared for; it was made a mess by time. It had been made by a kingdom long gone and forgotten. 

He waved down a few Kin that was chatting above him, “Explore the hills we are to tread,” He rasped out, “Report any dangers or curiosities you come across.” They nodded and dashed off, nothing but a rapidly disappearing blaze of scarlet fire left behind.

Time passed as Grimm waited, the steed pulling his wagon huffed at them, silently asking to rest soon. The road was still uneven, each wagon still bouncing off the occasional rock, tilting to and fro at the uneven path.

The Grimmkin still hadn’t returned as the wagons began to pull through the mountains. The walls of rock were high on each side, holes were mirrored on each side. A few old corpses could barely be seen, legs and arms of bugs both wild and sentient lay idle, their chests gaping open, innards long eaten by what lived here. He placed a hand on the child’s back where they were curled by his side in worry. They murmured in their sleep, still so small and weak. It’d be a while till the next ritual.

The walls were close together, they only just let the wagons pass without the worry of scraping the sides. There was no way to turn around once the caravan walked past the entrance, let alone run the other way if something happened.

“The path through should be short,” Grimm thought, “We’ll stop for rest and food on the other side,” he waved down more kin, a dozen more than last time, “If something happens we can deal with it,” He instructed them to carry torches and light the path, and most importantly, report back if they saw something, “We’ll always make it through.”

Music seeped through the artificial canon, echoing through the caves along each side. The old familiar tune felt uneasy, the vague feeling of nervousness permeating through the troupe enough to effect Brumm. The steeds began to slow, the sounds of their marching quieting as they pushed through the fatigue encasing their shells.

A puff of red smoke and a small novice was sitting beside Grimm. Their shrill and panicked voice woke the child, their words were spoken quickly, half slurred together, and hard to understand.

A sharp scree cut through all the noise, leaving a deafening quiet in its wake.

The Grimmkin immediately started to panic, “That’s the noise! Tha-”

A kin was slammed against the wall with a loud crack, their shell breaking on impact as a creature dug into them, shredding their garments as they fell, the Grimmkin wailing.

Jumping up Grimm tossed the reins to a nightmare kin. As he got on top of the wagon another scree rang out; the grimkin this time successfully dodging. Brumm’s wagon shook as the creature collided with it, the steed leading it letting out a panicked whimper.

The creature hissed on the ground, mandibles and legs flailing as for a moment before righting itself. It crouched down, ready to strike again when the wheels of Divine’s cart rolled over, only pinning it at first,  the steed struggling to pull over the living speedbump. A squeak and a squelch and their rigid shell shattered, Divine letting out a startled yelp as the wheel suddenly dropped back to ground level.

Another screech, Grim immediately aimed to intercept it when yet another rang out. 

It was like a domino effect, one after another after another screaming before leaping at the caravan. Grimm dashed, intercepting as many as he could before they hit, the air was just as full of fire as it was the creature as the kin attempted to help kill their attackers.

Still more kept coming, “Take them through as fast as possible,” Grimm barked at the nightmare leading them.

“Master?” Brumm called out, worry lacing his voice as much as panic.

“I’ll meet up with you on the other side, just go!”

They didn’t need to be told twice, the steeds immediately attempting to move as fast as their tired legs could carry them. 

Flinging himself into the air Grim puffed up with a loud scream, doing his best to draw all of their attention. Fire flung from around him, lighting the small canyon with fire. 

It worked, the beasts focusing on the largest threat. The wagons now having to deal with fewer things under their wheels could actually hurry, fear coursing through the steeds giving them new energy. The sound of Grimm’s fight growing more and more distant till it was nothing but an echo on the other side.

Once out the steeds couldn’t go any further if they tried. Their shells heaved as they drew breath, legs shaking as they unhitched themselves, collapsing on the ground with exhaustion. They huffed at the kin who immediately checked on them, shaking any attempts to get them to stand up, just wanting to be left alone.

With a grunt Brumm hopped out of the cart, afraid of what he might see. 

It looked like the fuckers had attempted to burrow through the wagons. Shallow divots in the repurposed shells that made the walls and ceilings were spread across all the wagons. 

He made his way to the front, seeing the nightmare doing their best to comfort Grimmchild as they cried.

“Mrmmm. Is the child hurt?”

They shook their head no, rubbing their back as they clung to the kin, “scared and worried for their father, but completely unharmed,” they rumbled.

Brumm nodded as he looked to the other kin. A few quickly busied themselves but most were unsure, not knowing what to do without instruction from the master. No one could properly hunker down for the night without him and there wasn’t really a second in command for situations like this.

“Try and get some to start repairs on the wagons,” Brumm told the nightmare. He shifted in place trying to figure out what to do, he wasn’t a leader, he hated giving directions to others. There was a reason he was the only musician, as the sole bug who composed the music he just could never direct others to play something right.

Walking back to Divine he could hear her talking, her airy voice louder and sharper than usual.

“Aaaah! Where’s the master? He said he’d meet us! I can’t smell him here! Where is he?” The kin outside her wagon shrugged.

“Mrmmm. How are you fairing Divine?” Brumm asked, already knowing the answer.

“Aaaahhhhh! Just terribly! What are we supposed to do? The master said he’d be here!”

“All we can do is wait. Master will come with time.”

Divine hissed in worry, she shifted and wiggled as much as she could, “But couldn’t he just puff back in any second? Why isn’t he here!” Her face was in a deep frown, something no one saw often, it made her smiling mask half look out of place and strange.

“Mrmmm. He may still be trying to buy time, he can’t see how far we are.”

“Aaahhhhh! But what if! What if…” She trailed off, not wanting to say what she thought. If she said it, what if it came true?

“Impossible, it’s never happened before. He’ll return. Master may come back hurt, but he will come back.” Brumm reassured.

Divine still wasn’t sure about that but dropped it, “What are we supposed to do till he comes back?”

“Mrmm,” Brumm had to think for a moment, “I don’t know. I’ll start getting food ready I guess. Keep medical supplies at the ready when he returns.”

“Ahh… But what am I supposed to do? I’ll worry myself into knots if I don’t do something!”

“You can watch the child. The nightmare caring for them now has more important things they can do. Just make sure they’re calm, try to get them to sleep.” Divine nodded at Brumm and he set off to try and put things together. 

As time passed though Brumm couldn’t stop worry from clouding his head. He kept a bag of medical supplies on him while he cooked while doing his best to focus on the task at hand, making a basic soup from what they had. Though the spot they were at wasn't the best, the kin were able to find a river, grabbing buckets to add to the cauldron and give to the steeds. There wasn’t any promise of something that tasted amazing but everyone would appreciate having something in their stomachs for now.

There was little conversation as food was passed around. Not even the novices, often cheerful and mischievous, found it in them to crack jokes. Brumm at least took the chance to fully get what damages were. The wheels would need to be replaced, many cracks and deformations from the blasted things would make it risky to set off too soon, they’d need some material to make some final repairs but the wagons were still okay enough that there wasn’t worry of them falling apart or rain seeping through, the steeds were tired and a bit scratched up but would be okay with rest, and while a few Grimmkin had been lost the majority were okay, shaken up, but okay.

The tents appeared in a flash, faster and more sudden than Brumm had seen in a long time. It was almost dizzying, everyone having to be moved and placed within different rooms.

“Master!” Brumm realized. He had to find him, figure out what happened, make sure he was okay.

Where was he even? A quick turn around and he was in the main stage with a few other confused kin, a few mourning over dropping their meal in their daze.

Master’s room, Grimm had to be there. He was quick to shuffle as best as he could in the darkened stage. 

“Master?” Brumm called.

“Come in Brumm.” 

Brumm tentatively moved the curtain, peering in. His mast was sprawled out on a fainting couch. 

“Master! Your horn-”

“I know Brumm, it looks worse than it feels.” 

Brumm couldn’t believe that. One of Grimm’s horns had been torn off, the thick shell left was jagged and cracked around it. The soft flesh within weeping blood now that it was exposed. 

Grimm had been injured before but this… This had never happened. Maybe a crack or scratch, but even during the ritual Brumm had never seen a piece of Grimm torn off.

“You-You need to get that cleaned immediately!” Brumm moved closer, trying his best to see if there was anything else.

Grimm chuckled, “I haven’t heard you order someone around in a long time.”

That made Brumm freeze, “I… Mrmm. I’m sorry master that wasn’t my intent.”

Finally, Grimm turned to face him, “There is no need to apologize, my friend, I was only teasing.”

Grimm had a tired smile, blood slowly winding its way down the side of his face. There were a few other scratches and cuts, small tears in his cloak, but nothing nearly as bad as his horn.

“I’m just glad everyone is okay,” He turned back looking down to what Brumm could now see was the Grimmchild. They rested their head on their father's arm, purring softly as Grimm’s other hand lightly scratched their head.

“Please master, let me dress your wounds. Even if it’s not as bad as you say it still needs to be taken care of soon rather than later.”

Grimm looked back at Brumm, seeing him fidget with worry, “Very well.”

He shifted into a better position, sitting upright with his cloak completely out of the way, much to the complaint of Grimmchild. Grimm shushed them as Brumm moved in front of him. Even sitting on a couch this low to the ground Grim was still at eye level with Brumm.

Brumm had to take a deep breath to calm his nerves as he pulled out supplies to clean his master, “Mrmm. This is probably going to sting,” he warned. 

He poured a cleaning acid on a clean towel, it wasn’t strong enough to do much more than sting, but it still cleaned. He carefully dabbed at the wound, waiting to see if there was any reaction. Grimm’s eye twitched slightly but he kept calm as Brumm thoroughly cleaned his head. 

Placing the used rag aside, pulling a large pair of tweezers out. Grimm bowed his head slightly, allowing Brumm easier access. Carefully Brumm pulled bits of shell that had embedded themself in the wound. Grimm huffing as a large piece, roughly the size of a piece of geo, was taken out.

After cleaning it again Brumm placed a layer of protective shell over it, a large circular disk of shell cleaned and cut to help cover a wound till it healed so nothing got in. It was a bit big but it did the job. With some adhesive strips, it was secured.

Brumm stepped back, “It’s done, master. Mrmm.”

That same tired smile from before appeared again, “Thank you for caring for me, my friend. Tell me, was the rest of the troupe okay?”

“Yes, a few kin were lost but given some time to rest everyone will be okay. The wagons will likely need to be replaced soon though.”

Grimm nodded, “Rest, that certainly sounds nice. Would the troupe be okay if I rested for now?”

“Mrm. I believe so, though it would be a good idea to talk to everyone and address what happened.”

“Of course, of course,” Grim, let out a slow sigh, looking down as the child got comfortable again. “Could you leave me to rest then?”

Brumm nodded silently and left. As he lifted the curtain he turned again, taking one final look at his master. He was too tired to hang as he usually slept, instead opting to curl around the child on the fainting couch.

“Rest well master.”

( @kiwikoala​ )

( @vibeseeker​ ) 

Crimson flames slowly licked up the draping curtains, draining away all color except the ocean of red that surrounded the young king and the visage of the ever beating Nightmare Heart. The ever present silence within the realm was only pierced by the steady thump of the constantly beating object, joined soon by the child's own pulse.

That is until a sharp crack echoed through the red hued abyss, quickly following the noise the growing troupe master had been blinded by a bright light. He quickly beat his wings in an adrenaline fueled struggle to wipe away the blazing heat that seared into his retinas, only to be met by a new presence that felt somewhat familiar. However the very energy called out to him, drawing him to cautiously approach.

"So I see the mewling cub shows its strength, choosing to find me within my own realm," The figure slightly turned and with a snap set their hand alight with a crimson flame, unveiling the form of the Nightmare King "It's almost cute, though that won't prove you as a worthy enough vessel alone."

"I... I just... I wasn't trying too..." Grimmchild nervously spoke as he pushed off the larger beings baited words, fanning out his wings and drifting to the floor below "my... my father, he... where is he? I... I was just with him..." panic started to grip at the small things words, as his eyes darted around and finally took in the lack of a landscape around the pair "...where am I? Who are you? What did you do?"

"Hah, poor thing, did your father never tell you of your purpose?" The Nightmare spoke with a chuckle and slowly bent down to be a little closer to the child's level, the pinkish red of his eyes burning deep within "a shame then, a kin not properly warned will make the process far more difficult than it should be..."

"...kin? My... my purpose? Wh..what do you mean?" Grimmchild asked with a slight hitch to his voice, pulling his wings back as worry tugged at the edges of his mind "I... I really want to go home... where is home?" He asked again, not expecting a real answer but hoping that the strange 'kin' would take pity upon him.

The larger figure let off a deep sigh as it drew back up to its full height, looking away with an almost bored expression adorning their face.

"Fine, perhaps you were simply dragged here out of pure luck then, as I doubt a weakling could get here of skill alone..." The Nightmare King then lifted one of his hands before giving a simple snap that caused the child to burst into crimson flames, almost immediately cooking them inside and out as their skin was charred and reduced to ash.

Grimmchild awoke with a start, jolting up upon the soft sheets of a fine bed deep within the maze of tents that was the troupe. His breathing was laboured and irregular, and a tear was starting to build up on the edge of his eyes, that is until a black wing gently pulled him back into a kind embrace.

"Is everything alright little one?" Grimm spoke out with a softer tone, moving himself a little closer in order to better comfort his son.

"A... a nightmare... it... it felt s..so..." the child stuttered for a while, struggling to form words until Grimm tightened the hug a little further and carefully wrapped his wing around them. Laying the both of them back into the bed.

"Its okay little one, nightmares are just that, nightmares. Just try and get back to sleep, alright?"

"A..alright..."

( @doodle-chris​ )

[shewillreadyou]

Me before you: Chapter 3: Excuse me miss

A/N: This is a TRR AU. Liam is already married, but see’s Riley and wants his cake. If the readers are receptive this might turn into more than a mini series. Enjoy!

Disclaimers: Most characters are property of Pixelberry

Warnings: Language, adult content, mild sexual innuendo. 

Word Count: 3468

Catch up: Haven’t met you Yet  For Real

Prompts: None 

Pairings: Drake & Riley

Song inspiration: Luther Vandross Take you out & Wait for Love

Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy.

The hot water cascaded down his sculpted body. He groaned as he ran his hands through his luscious chocolate locks. He lathered his shoulders as thoughts of her ran through his mind. He was captivated by her. She seemed to consume his every waking moment. Liam had crossed the line yet again. Every time it seemed his transgressions got more and more out of hand. He refused to allow his friend’s actions to ruin his final couple of days in the states. 

Bastien had taken over the King’s detail while they were in Waxahachie for Savannah’s wedding. For the next 48 hours, Liam was not his charge, he was his friend. His thoughts went back to her. She represented hope, possibility, promise. He had no idea what was to come, but he knew that it would be an exciting adventure if she was at his side.  

As he pulled his white henley tee shirt over his head, his mind went back to the conversation he had at the reception with his cousin Tyler, who was a cyber-security analyst with the Department of Homeland security. Drake explained to Tyler that he would no longer be sitting with him and the rest of the bridal party because the girl who he had been telling Tyler about who works in advertising, who he met in New York was there, and he intended to spend as much time with her as he could. She was something special. She could be the one. “So you invited her to Sav’s wedding?” he inquired. 

“No, actually she is the friend of Sav’s college roommate, Mackenzie, and came as her plus one. I had no idea she would be here.”

 “Sounds like fate.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that of all the places in the world this one person could be, she is here at your sister’s wedding... in Waxahachie, TX. If this girl is the one, you’re screwed. You might as well spruce up your resume. She’s a career woman. She is not going to move to Cordonia for you, and you suck at long-distance relationships. I can probably get you in at my job. My guy Rob in HR owes me a favor.”

“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever get the courage to ask her out,” he told Tyler.

The truth was, he could easily see a future with Riley. She’s beautiful, honest, smart, quick-witted, and kind. His cousin’s words bounced around in his head as he pulled on his favorite distressed jeans giving himself a quick once over in the full-length mirror in the room his Mom had decorated for him at the ranch after she returned to the states when his dad passed.

He opened his laptop and took a look around the room. The Walker Ranch had been in his father’s family for several generations being passed down to the eldest male child, like each generation before. Drake stayed in Cordonia after his father died and was handsomely compensated by the crown. His college education was covered, and he and his sister received a stipend each month. Drake was always taught to do a lot with little and to save the rest. For years he lived at the palace and saved every penny. Being friends with Liam, he learned how to invest wisely and he did pretty well in the stock market. His newest pastime had been real estate investment. He had been buying foreclosed homes in and around Dallas and having his Mom’s brothers and his cousins fix them up before selling them for a generous profit. 

He was curious, he was now the rightful owner of the Walker Ranch. It had struggled in the past, but because of his business plans and wise investment, the family business was as strong as it had ever been and his mom was nearing retirement age. What if he and Riley did end up together? He knew the plan was for his cousin Miranda to replace his mom when she was ready, while he retained ownership, but where would that leave him? He pulled up the DHS website and clicked on the careers tab. He was reading a description of a position that he believed he would qualify for, Intelligence Analyst.  

Just then Liam plowed through his door without warning. 

“Li! What the fuck man?” he shouted as he closed his laptop abruptly. 

“My apologies, I hope I'm not interrupting.  I just wanted to apologize if I offended you. You were right, any woman can be a lot. Carsyn is not speaking to me, she thinks I'm interested in Riley.”

“You are interested in Riley. She's just not interested in you and it's killing you. Let me ask you something, why is it so hard for you to grasp that a smart beautiful woman would be interested in me over you?”

“It’s just.. It’s not that. I'm not accustomed to rejection. It intensifies my want for her.”

“ I hate to cut our conversation short but I have to head out. I’ve got a few stops to make before I pick up Riley.”

“Then I shall take my leave. Enjoy! Smart man, planning a date when it’s going to storm. I’m sure you won’t have a problem closing tonight,” he said as he left the room.

The evening came and Drake drove along the winding Country Road towards the city. He tapped his thumb against the steering wheel to the beat of Chris Stapleton’s, “Starting Over.”

Then he switched from Prime country to the Heart and Soul station on his XM Radio. If he was going to have her in his life it meant embracing all aspects of it. He knew that music was a big thing for her and although she would listen to a little bit of everything she loved R&B and Jazz.  A song by Luther Vandross came on and to his surprise, it was not very different from the country music he listened to all the time. The chorus was catchy and very fitting. 

“Excuse me Miss, what's your name? Where are you from, and can I come? And possibly, can I take you out tonight?”

He found himself humming the tune as he stepped into the local Nursery to pick up a houseplant to go along with the Pinot Grigio he bought as a gift for Riley.  He decided on a Prayer Plant. 

It was relatively low maintenance and he thought it would be entertaining to watch it curl up in darkness. He didn't want to do the same flowers and candy that everyone does. He wanted to take her something that she would keep for a while, and possibly would make her think of him when she saw it.  As much as he didn't want to admit it the thought of her dating someone else while he was back in Cordonia was driving him insane. 

He was nervous and he couldn't figure out why. They were just going to hear some live music.  But he wanted to impress her so badly. He knew that it was more likely that he would end up putting his foot in his mouth but with her, for some reason, it did not matter. When he pulled up in front of her place he put on ChapStick, and reached into his glove box, sprayed on some Chrome, and checked his breath before quickly gathering the gifts for her and heading toward the door. He tucked the house plant under his arm as he smoothed over his clothes as the elevator took him to her floor.  A small lump formed in his throat as he approached her door. 

She opened the door and his breath caught in his throat as he took in her appearance. She was dressed in a denim outfit with matching stiletto boots and oddly enough, the denim matched his jeans. It would almost appear planned. He was secretly thrilled. She smiled at him and he was sure he forgot his own name for a few seconds. She stretched up on her toes and kissed him sweetly on the cheek.

“Hey Drake, you smell delicious.”

 “Hey. Thanks. These are for you.”

“Aww, you brought me a houseplant and wine? I’m not worthy, but I love it. Thank you. Come in! I promise I’m almost ready.”

She sat the plant on the counter and placed the wine in her wine fridge. 

“You look greeeeat,” she squealed. 

“Thanks. So do you.”

“So how’d you know what kind of wine I like?” she asked as she finished her eye makeup in the mirror. 

“Observant, I guess. I saw a bottle in the trash when I was here yesterday.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you ready?”

He stood moving to open the door for her. “After you.” They made it downstairs as a couple of her neighbors made it home from what he only assumed was church. He couldn’t figure out if the staring was due to her outfit or if it was because she was with him. He looked at her in awe as she strutted with confidence to his car. 

He opened the door for her and she smiled before thanking him. 

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. She was rattling on and on about the artist performing in the festival and he was secretly praying she wouldn’t ask him a question that required an intelligent answer. She kept touching his biceps and his hand. Her hands were so soft and he was sooo turned on. He hoped that she didn’t notice the bulge in his pants and think that he was a creep. He wondered if she kept touching him because she was nervous too?

“Um, Ri? You good?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You are extremely chatty and you keep touching me.”

“I’m excited. I’ll try to keep my hands to myself, but the way this henley hugs your arms,” she wiggled her eyebrows. 

He let out a low chuckle as he quickly glanced at her for the seventh time.

“Are you ok?” 

“Yeah, never better. Why?” 

“You keep looking at me.”

He grinned keeping his eyes on the road. They were nearing the venue when she glanced at his pants. He immediately assumed that she spotted his retreating erection. 

“What?”

“We’re matching you know. People are going to think we did this purposely.”

“Do you care what others think?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Good because we’re here.”

They parked and he asked her to stay put for a moment. He got out of the truck and grabbed a blanket and wicker picnic basket. He walked around the truck and opened the door for her and she blushed furiously as she stepped out.

They made their way to a free spot among the crowd. Riley noticed a few glares from both men and women, who obviously had an issue with she and Drake being there together. Then she smiled as one woman gave her a smile, wink and thumbs up as she stood to the side watching while Drake spread the blanket and invited Riley to sit. She knew that some people would have opinions of them being an interracial couple, but Drake didn’t seem bothered. In fact, she thought it showed how courageous he was. When another woman mouthed, “That’s a good look!”

She bit the inside of her cheek trying not to smile. The truth was she didn’t need any validation. She knew Drake was a catch. The fact that he was easy on the eyes was a bonus.  

“What’s in the basket?”

“Uh, a little something my mom helped me with.”

He opened the basket and pulled out wine glasses, a bottle of her favorite Pinot Grigio, cheese, cashews, summer sausage, deli turkey, sliced cucumbers, grapes, strawberries, whipped cream and 2 brownies. The opening act took the stage and Drake pulled Riley close. 

“I hope you’re hungry.”

“I am,” she said coyly as she settled between his legs.

They cuddled for a bit before eating, until one of the performers played a rendition of The Gap Band’s, “Outstanding.” She jumped up and pulled Drake with her. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and swayed back and forth with Riley. She felt so comfortable in his arms, he actually had rhythm. There went another stereotype out the window, it just felt right. 

After several acts had gone on and several glasses of wine later Riley settled in his lap as a performer started to play a slower song. “I love Luther,” Riley squealed as she began to sing along.

Knowing love the way I do

I can say for certain that it's true

There's a chance for me and you.

I surely feel like the time is near

The picture in my mind is very clear

I think love has brought us here

I remember not too long ago

I was just a lonely person

With a lonely heart, yeah

And I was hoping there could one day be,

Be a chance

For me to get the love

That I'd been missing

Sometimes love takes a long time

Wait for love

And you're gonna get the chance to love

Wait for love, wait for love oh, my

When you take the chance on love you'll see

It's not a waste of time if you truly believe

The impossible can be..

So hold on tight if you think you're right

Cause nothing hurts as bad as when you see

You gave up too easily

Now I remember spending all my time

On a dream that kept me wishing that you could be mine, yeah

And I was hoping there could one day be, be a chance, whoa

I never stopped believing there could one day be, be a chance

For me to get the love that I'd been missing

Sometimes love takes a long time

Wait for love, and you're going to get your

Chance to love

Wait for love, wait for love

And you'll get the love that you've been missing

Sometimes love takes a long time

But wait for love

And you're going to get your chance to love.

Drake couldn’t help but hang on to her every word. He wondered if she was trying to send him a message through the lyrics. She had a voice like an angel and when the song ended he was breathless. 

“Ms. Riley sings too?”

She giggled as she rested her head on Drake's shoulder, her back to his strong chest. He fed her  grapes then strawberries with whipped cream soliciting jealous glances from some nearby onlookers. She made sure to let her lips and tongue graze his fingers.  For a few blissful moments, they both silently enjoyed the closeness.

“You know, this is pretty cool,” he whispered in her ear.

She smiled as his breath tickled her ear. Feeling the effects of the wine, she paused for a few moments before she responded.

“What’s that?”

“This. Us. The festival. It all just feels right.”

She wordlessly looked up at him. She wondered if she could will him to kiss her with her “come get it eyes.”  Suddenly, a torrential downpour covered the venue, leaving Drake and Riley scrambling to gather the blanket and basket before sprinting to his Jeep. Before they could get there he stopped snaking his arm around her pulling her close. 

This was it, he was going to do it, it was now or never. If she was the onehe wanted to look back at their first date and tell a romantic tale of their first kiss in the rain. Now was the time. He leaned in and when she opened her eyes her lips found his instantly. It was everything she expected and more. It was hungry and passionate and lustful and it made her lady parts twitch. When he pulled away he watched her for signs of regret, but her eyes said she wanted more. 

“Hurry, get in,” Drake urged her as he took the time to throw the basket and blanket in the back.

They were both soaked. She laughed hysterically when he finally got inside. 

“This entertains you, does it?”

She nodded as she continued laughing, her eyes were clenched tightly. 

He went back in taking her lips again as it continued to storm all around them. Her hands roamed his body and her eyes went wide when she made contact with the bulge in his pants. Another stereotype out the window…Drake cupped the back of her dripping head with his left hand deepening the kiss while his right hand explored the soft skin of her thigh as a soft moan escaped her. Suddenly his phone rang, “Mama’s Song” by Carrie Underwood blasted from his pocket startling Riley. Drake huffed and looked at her with apologetic eyes before answering.

“Mom? What’s up?”

“I’m so sorry for interrupting your date Drizzy.”

Riley smiled.

“Mom, what’s wrong?”

“The power is out and the generator didn’t kick in. I gave Larry the weekend off..”

“I’ll be there as soon as I get Riley home safely. Sit tight.”

“Thanks Driz. How’d it go? Did you kiss her?”

“Mom! She can hear you.”

“Hi, Mrs.Walker.” Riley chimed in.

“Hi, sweetheart. Did he kiss you?”

Riley laughed again. 

“Bye Mom!”

Drake ended the call and turned to Riley, cheeks flushed red.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“For the way, tonight is ending. For my Mom.” 

“Nothing could ruin today. Not even your Mom Drizzy,” she laughed again.

‘Geez, Ri that was below the belt.”

His comment made her think about his bulge and she began to blush.

“Are you blushing?”

“Maybe.”

“Why?”

“Oh, it’s too embarrassing to share.”

“Now you know I won’t stop until you tell me.”

When they pull into her neighborhood the entire area is pitch black. Her building was also dark. 

“Good thing I have candles.”

“Or you could go back to the ranch with me,” he said shyly.

“Really? I don’t want to put anyone out.”

“It’s just Mom and I. Liam and Carsyn should be out for the evening. Besides, I promised you dinner and it’s Sunday, I bet my mom cooked.”

“I can’t meet your Mom looking like this. I’ll be ok.”

“Riley, I’m not leaving you alone in the dark.”

“If you want to spend more time with me just say that.”

“Fine, I want to spend more time with you and I’m not leaving you alone in the dark. My Mom would kill me. Pleaaase! I can get you one of Sav’s outfits. I promise it will be an adventure.”

“Okay, I’ll go. But only because you’re so cute when you beg.”

He bit his lip. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Drake Arrington Walker!” she warned.

“Too much?” He smiled.

When they arrived at the ranch, Drake showed Riley to his room and gave her towels and a change of clothes while he went to help with the generator. She quickly showered, pulled her hair up into a messy bun and moisturized with his Nivea lotion that she found on the counter she walked back into his bedroom pulling on the leggings she borrowed. She was still bare from the waist up when the door opened. Her back was turned when she looked over her shoulder to reprimand him.

“Drake!” 

“Riley, it’s me, Liam.”

Riley screamed as she scrambled to cover herself.

“Get out!”

“My mistake. I thought Drake was in here. But this, you are much better.”

“Get. Out.”

“Come on, what’s a little fun between friends?” he asked as he closed the door.

Before she could answer Drake barreled into the room, his fist connected with Liam’s jaw before he tackled him. 

“Have fun with me you bastard, I told you to leave her the fuck alone,” he yelled as Bastien pulled Drake off of Liam. Riley watched the entire scene in horror from the corner.

“Get the fuck out Li!” 

After Bastien escorted Liam back to the guest house, Drake checked on Riley.

“Are you hurt? He didn’t touch you did he?” 

“No, I’m more embarrassed than anything. He walked in without knocking while I was changing.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about him.”

“What in tarnation is all that racket back here?” Bianca asked as she turned the corner.   

“Just Li being a creep. Everything is fine Mom.”

Riley stood when Bianca entered the room. 

“Riley, this is my Mom, Bianca. Mom, this is my Riley.” 

His eyes went wide as soon as the words left his mouth. He grimaced as Riley extended her hand to his Mom. Bianca pulled Riley into her embrace instead. 

“It’s nice to meet the girl who makes Driz nervous.”

“Mom!”

Riley laughed.

Come on darling, I know y’all were supposed to get dinner. It’s Sunday so I cooked some pot roast, mashed potatoes, carrots, and green beans and for dessert, banana pudding funnel cakes.

“Oh my God, Mrs. Walker, that sounds amazing. Drake, you were holding out on me.”

“Not, really. Maybe I wanted to cook for you first.”

@txemrn @pixie88 @secretaryunpaid@khoicesbyk @blackkingliamstan @mom2000aggie @shannonwrote @hopelessromanticmonie @chemist-ana @rideordiechronicles @lucy-268 @dcbbw @darley1101 @maurine07 @sfb123 @bbrandy2002 @kingliam2019 @schnitzelbutterfingers @lem-20 @choicesficwriterscreations @no-one-u-know @jessiembruno @queenrileyrose @thefrenchiemama​ @somersetmummy​

TRR: @twinkleallnight  @bebepac @mainstreetreader @romereadingshop @romewritingshop @lem-20 @texaskitten30

[solarwonux]

dad!sangyeon x f!reader drabble

warnings: suggestive, it’s pretty fluffy ngl

note: AAAAAAAA I caved and now I’m debuting my first fic for The Boyz, and bc my bby needs a lot more love on here okay. I really hope you like it let me know your thoughts hehe.xx

The sound of your newborn crying woke you and Sangyeon up. You groaned, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes turning to face your husband as he bolted out of the bed. “I’ll get her.” He mumbled sleepily, his hair sticking up due to the friction of his pillow. His eyes were barely opened, as he stumbled out of the room. You let out a tired laugh listening to him bump into things on the way to the nurse.

You shook your head, turning on the lamp on your nightstand. Your eyes squinting at the brightness scooting yourself to rest against the headboard as you waited for Sangyeon to come back.

“Our princess is hungry,” Sangyeon spoke as he walked cooing at your daughter in his arms, a tired smile forming on your face. “Did you change her diaper?” You questioned pulling down the straps of your tank top freeing your sore breasts.

“Mhm, I did.” He nodded reassuringly, sitting down carefully on the bed carefully placing your daughter in your arms. You smiled watching as she opened her mouth looking for your nipple before finally latching onto it. A painful groan falling out of your mouth at the sensation. Sangyeon maneuvers himself and sits down in front of you. “You okay love?” He placed a loving hand against your cheek, running a soothing thumb against it.

“Just a little sore,” You sighed, turning your attention to your daughter who was happily enjoying her meal. “I feel like my boobs are going to fall off.” You finished smoothing out the creases on your daughter’s forehead with your thumb.

Sangyeon smiled, shaking his head uncrossing his legs from underneath him before wrapping them around your body, casing you in. “I’ll give you a massage.” He grinned cheekily, “You don’t have too.” You looked up feeling your daughter let go of your nipple, small whines falling out of her tiny lips. You smiled carefully guiding her to your other boob, relaxing once she latched on again.

“I’m your husband…it’s my job.” He winked, placing a soft kiss against your forehead. “Where do I start?” He whispered his hands caressing your arms slowly.

“With the one, she’s drinking from, she has trouble drinking from this one.” You said watching as he nodded. His hands finding their way onto the side of your boob, goosebumps rising all throughout your body against the coldness of his touch. He carefully moved his fingers messages around your nipple, making sure to not get in the way of your daughter eating. The soreness you had been feeling slowly subsiding.

“Thank’s baby.” You groaned, feeling his fingers move with fever against you. “It’s nothing love, I know you’ve been having trouble breastfeeding lately…anything I can do to help I will do without hesitation.” He affirmed, looking down at your now sleeping daughter that had stopped feeding. “She falls asleep while eating just like you.” You joked, moving your boob away from her, a coo escaping her mouth, making you feel all giddy inside.

“Can I burp her, that’s my favorite party.” Sangyeon smiled widely, carefully taking your daughter away from you before you could answer. You shook your head fall back against the bed, watching as Sangyeon joyfully burped her, chuckling every time she let out a tiny burp. “You’re so strange.” You laughed pulling your tank top straps back on your arms.

Sangyeon rolled his eyes ignoring your statement as he stood up from the bed, throwing you a kiss as he started walking out of the room. “I’ll be back to give you a proper massage my love.” He whispered yelled from the hallway while you laid down letting out a soft laugh of disbelief.

You brought the covers up to your chin, wishing your daughter could just stay sleeping with you. But Sangyeon and you had agreed that she should stay sleeping in her own crib, no matter how much you wanted to keep her close to you. He also moved a lot in his sleep, and sometimes you’d wake up with half his body on top of you. Though you loved it, you would never get a good night’s rest knowing if she slept with the two of you, fearing for your daughters safety.

“I’m back, take your top off. I'm ready to give you all my attention,” Sangyeon exclaimed excitedly as he jumped back onto the bed. “Did you make sure she was sleeping…and did you put her blanket on top of her, she gets cold at night. And her dinosaur stuffed animal, you put it next to her ri–.”

Sangyeon placed his lips, cutting you off making you sigh against his lips, swallowing your words. He pulled away, kissing your nose gently, pushing down the covers from your body. “I did, I made sure everything was in check before I left, now stop worrying. I’m trying to make you feel good.” He said, his lips attaching to your neck, kissing it slowly and sensually. His hand pulling down the straps of your tank top freeing your boobs once again.

“Babe, we can’t have sex yet.” You sighed wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him closer. “Doesn’t matter…we don’t have to have sex for me to make you feel good.” He spoke against your skin, peppering the skin of your breasts with gentle kisses. “Now relax baby, your body has gone through a lot and it’s my job to take care of it in any way I can.” He smirked, groping one of your breasts carefully, rolling it in his palm. A sigh of relief left your lips as you arched your back into his touch.

“Okay baby.”

[chilling-seavey]

Qui Totum Vult Toum Perdit (d.s.) - 7

A/N Guilty or generous 

Warnings: This story is centered around a murder so there will be graphic descriptions of blood, death/manslaughter, dealing with corpses, possible domestic abuse (physical/verbal), crime/covering up a crime, shock/grief, and other possibly heavy or triggering topics. Please read at your own discretion.

One thing my parents always taught us while we were growing up was, when traveling, to never stay at the cheapest hotel. By no means should we break the bank to stay at a five-star resort but there was usually nothing good that came out of the cheapest option. I could see what they meant as Jonah and I climbed the metal stairs of the Lincoln Motel, the white paint peeling from the handrails and the steps creaking with each footfall. Once having been on the cover of Forbes, I no longer really needed to follow that guidance that my parents engrained in us since I could afford all the five-star hotels and resorts I so desired to stay at.

I mean, to be brutally fair, dear reader, my parents also taught us not to murder our spouses; so who knew how many lessons of theirs I had ignored in my lifetime.

I triple checked that my car was locked as we reached the top of the flight of stairs and headed down the carpeted outdoor hallway. Anyone who uses carpet outside should honestly not be trusted. This place already left a bad feeling in my stomach. Would saying it gave me murder house Psycho vibes be in poor taste? Possibly? Then please disregard that statement.

Number nineteen was right in the middle of the hallway. The brass number nine was set slightly crooked on the door. I caught myself tilting my head with its direction as if I were trying to stall. I swear if the person on the other side of the door slept with my wife I…I didn’t know what I would do but the thought of it made me sick.

“Are you going to knock?” Jonah tore me from my thoughts.

I swallowed thickly, “Yeah.”

I raised my fist to the orange painted door and rapped a quick knock before taking a little step back. I habitually glanced over the railing to make sure no one was getting too close to my car.

The sound of the door creaking open had me turning back quickly to see who was on the other side. I expected a man and that’s who I was met with, simply the first glance of him making my jaw clench protectively.

He was short. Brown hair. Brown eyes. His patterned button up was undone halfway. Arms and neck littered in random tattoos. I eyed him up for a moment.

“Can I help you?” he asked, an obvious confused edge to his voice.

“Yeah, do you know an Avalon Seavey?” I pushed back at him strongly. I couldn’t help but straighten up around him just to have those few inches above him.

“Avalon? Yeah, I know her enough. Why?” he looked between Jonah and me.

I took off my sunglasses and tucked them in the collar of my shirt to see him better in the shadow of the motel balcony.

“I’m her husband.”

“Daniel.” he breathed with realization, his eyebrows raising as he stared at me.

“Yeah. Daniel. Who are you?” I asked sharply.

Jonah didn’t intervene through my anger, in fact, he looked just as concerned as I felt. I appreciated his willingness to let me have my moment to interrogate this guy.

“I’m Jack. How did you find me here?”

“I found your address in her phone.” I added.

“Oh, what a nice non-toxic relationship you have.” Jack mumbled.

“Excuse me?” I took a quick step towards him but Jonah grabbed my arm and yanked me back.

“I was not sleeping with your wife if that’s what you’re here getting all macho protective douche-bag about.” Jack assured me coolly. “We had nothing more than a professional relationship.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, staring at Jack’s unimpressed flat expression. He didn’t seem to be one to be phased by anything.

“Professional over what?” I pressed.

“Does Avalon know you’re here?” he ignored my question while he peeked around me as if to see her down the hallway or in the parking lot below.

I didn’t flinch as he looked around me. Little did he know that she was in fact right there with us.

“She’s dead.” Jonah answered.

I hadn’t realized I hadn’t replied to him for a few too many seconds but Jonah’s blunt response certainly brought be back to reality. I snapped my head towards him. Since when did we agree we were going to be telling people that?

“Oh.” Jack said flatly. “That sucks. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah…well…I wanted to see who you were…so…” I stumbled out ungracefully, rubbing the back of my neck anxiously with one hand. I dropped it with a sigh to my side again, “We’ll be going.”

“Hang on. Come in for a second.” Jack offered, stepping to the side and pushed the door open wider to let us on. “I gotta show you something.”

Jonah and I glanced at each other briefly before silently deciding to follow him into the motel room. I peeked over my shoulder to my car down in the lot once more before stepping over the threshold.

Jack seemed to sense my hesitation as he closed the door behind us, “I won’t keep you long. A nice car like that won’t last long around here unsupervised.”

I swallowed thickly, watching him walk across the messy motel room to the closet. Jonah and I stood just inside the door and the first thing I noticed was the bright teal wallpaper that even covered the ceiling, so bright and neon it was nearly blinding and it did not match the dark red floral print carpet at all. The bed had red bedsheets and a dark mahogany headboard that was more 1960s mirror panel than wood and beside it sat a single small round table with a fold out chair and a rotary phone on top. The bathroom sink and light oak vanity was outside of the bathroom in the main room which right away was another turn off to this already run-down place. I was no decorator, dear reader, but the sight of this motel room was nearly nauseating. And that’s said by someone who had a dead body stashed in their car trunk.

As Jack shuffled through the bi-fold closet for whatever he was looking for, I took a moment to take in my surroundings for more than just the initial shock of colour and pattern vomit that filled the place. The neon 80s themed picture above the bed was of the New York skyline which was strange since we were in Los Angeles, and the fact that there were two more mahogany framed mirrors along the other walls was unsettling. I tried not to meet my own reflection.

Jack had a suitcase laid out beside the mahogany dresser and it was tossed open and clothes were haphazardly thrown about it but the suitcase wasn’t the only spot for fabrics as every other available surface – including the small table in the corner – housed various piles of fabric scraps and scissors and pins and needles. The worst of it was the few bare mannequins laying under the window adjacent to the door.

“So…” I started slowly, turning back to Jack whose back was still turned to us, “How did you know my wife?”

“My business.” Jack answered. He pulled a jacket on a hanger from the back of the closet and dropped it on the table right on top of all the scraps and pins and mess. He grabbed one of the many pairs of scissors that were scattered around and snipped a few things that I couldn’t see from where we stood.

His dry answers to our questions had Jonah and I more suspicious as the time went past but we waited to give the guy the benefit of the doubt.

Jack finally turned around with a small smile and picked up the hanger to turn and face the black denim jacket towards us, “I’m a bit of a fashion designer I guess you can say and Avalon found my page on Instagram a few months back and she got in touch with me about making you a custom jacket.”

I didn’t know what to say. In all the words I could use, perfect was the only one that came to my mind as I stared at the jacket in his hand. Someone might see it as a mess of things but it was just my taste; chaos enough to pass as designer even. It housed red x’s painted over the right shoulder and a single white stripe down the left side that matched my surname on the bottom right front panel. He made sure to show each of the denim sleeves, cuffed at the bottom in black and red plaid and the left wrist had ‘honey’ printed in small white font – the nickname I always called her. The other sleeve had matching vertical white font spelling out ‘Only the Beginning’ which was the name of Jonah and my very own record company; the company that always caused the most hostility between Avalon and me. Jack finally turned the jacket around to show the back, the shoulder section sewn over with a lace that looked a hell of a lot like Avalon’s wedding dress and I found myself stunned into shocked silence. It was incredible.

I walked into that motel with no hopes of any sort but what I seemed to find amidst those disgusting teal walls was better than I ever could have expected.

I took a step forward to take the jacket from him, grazing the sleeve ever so gently with my fingers as if it were going to break under my touch. Jack passed it over and helped me slide it on to make sure it fit. He brushed his hands over my shoulders and down my back to smooth it out and directed me to one of the many mirrors that were glued to the motel wall.

“That jacket is fresh.” Jonah said.

“It’s…gorgeous.” I agreed softly, turning slightly to see the back in the mirror.

Jack spoke next as he watched me admire his work, “She worked me into the ground for this one. I kept having to restart because she kept saying it wasn’t perfect enough…I lost a fuck ton of materials and money through that…ended up getting evicted from my place because I wasn’t earning money to pay rent which is why I’m living in this shithole now but…she was adamant. Said it had to be perfect for you. We were going to meet up one last time once you two got back from your trip but…” he faded out with a sigh.

I turned to him, “You were evicted?”

“Oh,” Jack shrugged as if it was no big deal and sat down on the end of the bed, “Yeah. She said she couldn’t pay me right away and I assured her it was no big deal but then when money got tight I felt badly to ask for an advance. She was my only client, ya know? She worked me hard enough anyway to pass as my only customer but…with no pay…landlord ended up kicking me out and this was the cheapest place in the whole county. It’s such an absolute fucking dump here that my daughter isn’t allowed to come visit me until I get back on my feet…court said something about unfit living situations or some bullshit. Not like my ex needs anymore reasons to talk shit.”

“Shit…bro…I’m sorry.” I breathed.

“What can ya do?” Jack shrugged, sucking his teeth with a shake of his head. He stood up from the end of the bed, offering a dry, “She’s dead now anyway so…”

I turned to Jonah who gave me a look as if to just get out of there but I looked back in the mirror at the jacket I wore.

Goddammit.

I spoke to Jack through the mirror, “Do you take PayPal?”

Detective Team: @jonahlovescoffee​ @randomlimelightxxx​ @stuffofseaveyy​ @hopinglimelight​ @tempus-ut-luceant​ @br4nd1s​ @xkelsev​ @hiya-its-amber​ @sexyseavey15

[sweetestlamb]

Green-Eyed Monster

Genre: Revenge romance? Is that a category? It is now. 

Summary: Ju-Ri doesn't understand how a nice normal guy like Gang-Tae could fall for someone awful like Mun-Yeong, little moments into their relationship provide clarity and envy in equal parts. 

Author Notes: We have already been so well-fed today, but here I am offering more food, if you’re a glutton then eat it all up! Thank y’all for voting for this one and making me temporarily table the High School AU, today’s episode has given me SO MANY IDEAS. SO MANY. So I will definitely be writing that this week, stay tuned! 

p.s: I planned on being meaner to Ju-Ri but as a feminist it’s hard for me to shit on women no matter how much you irk my soul. I just want us all to succeed and not compete, especially not for men. But never fear, jealousy and mild torture is still here. 

Ju-Ri avoids the front nurse's desk as she makes her rounds, checking on the patients and then checking on them again, better safe than sorry, anything to ignore the news that all her colleagues are chattering about in excitable voices. Gang-Tae and that woman. She doesn't understand how he could be with someone like her. Prior, to that witch crash landing into their lives she had considered her and Gang-Tae close, friends even. They didn't need to communicate often, they had moments of silence that spoke volumes, she told herself. It was only a matter of time until they.....

Then she had appeared. Like a bad dream.

Reeling him in on her line and despite his attempts to wriggle free, she captured him. Ju-Ri watched them circle around each other, him chasing after her every time she was on her war path and Ju-Ri couldn't help the frustration that washed over her as she wondered why? What was it about that woman that made everyone overlook all her glaring flaws? She was selfish, brash, and downright mean. Her touch was the killing blow to everything and everyone around her. She knew that in due time, the sweet caretaker would be next. She was like Medusa, staring too long would ultimately lead to your downfall.

These thoughts swimming in her mind caused her to walk right into them. In a sense. Turning the corner, with a grimace on her concern bitten lips she found the very pair she was ruminating about. Her eyes widen as she took in the scene in front of her; Ko Mun-Yeong had Gang-Tae cornered, their faces closer than was acceptable for the work place. His blush was apparent even from her distance, as if someone had taken a red paintbrush to his cheeks. Mun-Yeong smirked, leaning in even closer, until Ju-Ri was sure they were sharing a breath. The way he was panting made it clear that he was not getting an adequate amount of air. Her eyes tightened into a glare, of course that bitch wouldn't even let Gang-Tae breathe without hindering him. Vaguely she overheard their exchange.

"Mun-Yeong calm down, we can't do this at work. " He said to no avail, knees buckling as as Mun-Yeong dismissed his requests and placed a hand on his cheek dragging him dangerously close.

"This is your fault for being so pretty. I can feel your eyes on me when I'm teaching. It makes me want to end the class and jump you." She finished her suggestive statement with a snap of her teeth, her lips pursing as Gang-Tae swayed as if hypnotized. "Just one kiss and I'll leave you alone. I promise. I'll be a good girl." She pressed on, her words contradicting with the evil smile that spread across her ruby lips. He groaned in response, while she widened her eyes in mock innocence. Moving ever closer.

Gang-Tae stood stock-still, hands tightened in fists, a vein protruding from his heated neck, as the she-demon took his silence as confirmation, cupping his strong jaw into her hands, drawing him closer, closer, their lips on the cusp-

Before she abruptly threw the patient charts in her grasp on the ground. The crash echoing down the hallway, breaking the couple from their reprieve. Gang-Tae leapt back like he was on fire, dipping under and out of Mun-Yeong's evil clutches, absently straightening his placidly pastel uniform. Mun-Yeong on the other hand, did not seem the least bit bothered, turning much like the cat that almost got the milk. Her face lighting up when she spotted Ju-Ri, menacing smile covering her face, before the sound of her heels filled Ju-Ri's ears- who even wore heels to a hospital?- until they were face to face.

She paused to bend down and pick up the charts Ju-Ri had accidentally dropped and Ju-Ri pretended not to see how raptly Gang-Tae watched the smooth motion, his eyes hungrily examining the abundance of skin that was visible under her short pale lilac skirt. He licked his lips, lost in the sight before him. Ju-Ri coughed loudly, his eyes guiltily shifted away, intensely staring at the wall instead as if just noticing that it was here.

"Here." Mun-Yeong pushed the chart into her limp hands, "This is yours." And she heard the unsaid message, Gang-Tae is not. She didn't respond to the quip, snatching the charts from the outstretched hands and looking intently at Gang-Tae, shocked that he would allow this sort of behavior at his place of work. She turned away in annoyance at finding him distracted again. Mun-Yeong was smoothing out invisible wrinkles in her skirt, his eyes were fixed on the quick movements of her hand. Surprisingly enough, Mun-Yeong was the one to end this intolerable awkward moment, turning back to Gang-Tae and wrapping her claws around his thick neck, his ears pinking up at the sudden attention, as she stage whispered, "Next time, you won't be so lucky, these lips will be mine. " And with that she was gone, leaving him suspended in the moment before he shook myself and walked off without a word to Ju-Ri.

With a defeated grunt, she stomped off, maybe the patients needed a third check in.

After finding a nice pillow to scream into, Ju-Ri started to thinking rationally, their relationship was clearly purely sexual. Gang-Tae was such a shy guy, he was merely excited to be with someone as experienced as Mun-Yeong and okay, maybe if you squinted and looked sideways while hopping on one leg, one might consider Mun-Yeong pretty. She bristled at the memory of her very own mother expressing that, she wasn't that pretty. If anything she was terrifying and that far outweighed any external beauty. Ergo, it was only a matter of time before Gang-Tae reached this conclusion and the world would be right once more.

This was the only thought that kept her from violently scalping herself.

Unpacking her lunch, the familiar scents of her mom's home-cooked meal filled her senses, glad for a quiet moment. She ate, pointedly thinking of nothing and no one, until the chair across her was pulled out and occupied, thankfully it was only her mom, who she greeted with a tight smile. She was still coming to terms with the fact that her own mother had befriended her arch nemesis, for lack of a better term. This was after calling said woman; pretty, all but escorting Gang-Tae to her macabre castle and through her advice, helping them reconcile after he had finally escaped. It wasn't that Ju-Ri didn't want Gang-Tae to be happy, that's all she wanted, but she knew first hand what happened to those who got too close to Mun-Yeong, she was a walking danger ahead sign.

Why did no one heed the warning until it was too late?

They lapsed into small talk, how was your day? I made the dumplings you like, here have some. It was all too good to be true, that should have been her first sign that she should evacuate the premises. But she figured that they wouldn't be as shameless as to rub their relationship in her face, she was mistaken.

As she was looking up, she saw movement at the cafeteria's entrance, eyes landing on Gang-Tae unaware of Mun-Yeong sneaking up behind him, until she slid her arm through his larger arm, linking them with a broad smile. She said something to him that made him stumble over his steps, before righting himself and gazing down into her dark gaze. They stood there, unmoving, eyes locked, completely disregarding everyone around them, all but obliterating her appetite.

She waited for him to break the chain of their arms, as he had done in the parking lot, when she had made the mistake of looking back at the commotion behind her.

He didn't.

He allowed himself to be dragged by Mun-Yeong's smaller stature, until she realized with sharp realization that Mun-Yeong was traipsing to her table. Seeing her mother's answering wave and smile, an ice cold slap of betrayal hit her. Did this woman intend to take everything from her? She huffed in indignation, turning her body away from the approaching pair.

Her mother gently knocked her feet under the small table, that was about to feel even smaller. Claustrophobic,even.

She pretended not to notice and stuffed more food into her mouth, hoping that no one would try to engage her in a conversation.

Her mother greeted them, Gang-Tae, ever thoughtful, saw her reaction and quickly stated that they planned on eating outside, they just wanted wanted to say hi.

"Why can't we all eat together? I want to stay." Mun-Yeong innocently maliciously inquired, looking at her newest victim and Ju-Ri watched his jaw tighten out of the corner of her eye, he pulled her with their interlocked arms, the force resulting in their bodies colliding.

"Don't be silly, of course we can all eat together. I brought extra food for that very purpose, I don't want to see those atrocious sandwiches, that's not a real meal." Her mother stated, leaving no room for argument. Ju-Ri wanted to argue, to shout that she didn't want to be anywhere near her, they weren't friends and she didn't plan on acting like they were, damn it. 

A chill washed over her as she considered the seating arrangement, her mother sat across from her, leaving an empty chair next to them both. She should have sat next to her before it was too late. 

Gang-Tae shuffled awkwardly, also noticing the conundrum, before Mun-Yeong easily slid into the seat next to her mother, causing Ju-Ri's mouth to open in shock. Was she actually going to let Gang-Tae sit next to her? His eyes exhibited his surprise as well before he took the last remaining seat. Mun-Yeong smirked as if amused by her discomfort, before accepting the handful of food that was being pressed into her waiting hands.

They ate in relative silence, Mun-Yeong and her mother leading the conversation, she tuned them out, silently seething at the mere fact that they seemed so comfortable in each other's presence.

The loud clicks of chopsticks knocking against a surface made her look up and she watched as Mun-Yeong chased a slippery quail egg with to avail, lips curled in disdain as she cursed the elusive delectable treat. Gang-Tae's warm chuckle hit her ear, "Here, let me help." The fondness coating his voice made her stomach churn, as he delicately picked up and placed the egg in her bed of rice, Mun-Yeong smiled in return batting her eyelashes, "My hero."

In all her years of knowing Gang-Tae she had never seen him so attentive, unless it was with his brother. She wasn't the first person to have a crush on him, but like her all others had been denied. Gang-Tae was a mystery that didn't want to be solved, sweet and calm, but unattainable. Yet here he was soft and eager, doting over Mun-Yeong, who was now tapping her spoon against the bowl of beef, expectant look in her eyes.

He didn't react at first. Pushing the bowl closer to her instead, but she was relentless. Opening her mouth as she continued to click, eyes drilling into his face, until he backed down with a sigh, easily picking up the meat and bringing it to her bowl, only for her to bend her head and close her mouth around his chopsticks instead. With a resonating hum of approval, she took the meat, maintaining eye contact during the entire ordeal, which in reality lasted a few seconds but it felt like hours to Ju-Ri, forced to watch this inappropriately intimate moment. Gang-Tae coughed and shifted in his seat, long legs squeezing together, as Mun-Yeong smiled salaciously, licking her lips.

"I have to get back to work." She was glad when nobody called her out for leaving fifteen minutes before her allotted break was over.

Alcohol was her only friend. She picked up cases of beer, planning to drink herself into a stupor after the week she had. Everywhere she turned, they were there disgustingly wrapped up in each other, she dearly wanted to blame it all on Mun-Yeong and her obsession but....she watched him trail after her whenever she got too far. More than four feet was his limit. He would pace the hallway outside the room that was designated for her literature class, peeking in and fleeing with a blush when he was met by Mun-Yeong's jubilant smile.

She didn't want to think about them, not today, she just wanted to drown herself in her liquid friend and remember better days when Mun-Yeong was a distant memory.

So of course, she heard their voices as she ascended the stairs leading to her rooftop. Kicking the wall in anger, fighting the urge to throw a tantrum and fling her beer at their heads. If she wasn't safe in her own house, where was she safe?

Their quiet voices could be heard over the slight breeze in the night air, "What's wrong? You've been upset all day." Mun-Yeong's deep voice break the silence. No response came for long seconds, and she pressed on, "Are you upset about work?" Pause. "Is it your brother?" Longer pause. "What? Are you mad at me?" Another pause. Mun-Yeong must have seen something on his face because her resounding aaahhhhhh was loud and clear.

"Okay so you're upset with me? Are you mad that I tried to ravish you in the supply closet?"

Ew. She mentally told herself to never go in that closet.

There was no response.

"Okay not that, good because I know you liked that. All those delicious moans you were making made it clea--” 

"You're still texting him." He thankfully cut her off, Ju-Ri was grateful as she felt her own cheeks heating up, mostly in shame. She knew she should leave before this conversation took any more turns but her feet refused to listen to her brain.

She tried to think of who this mysterious man was. How many hopeless men had Mun-Yeong trapped in her web? If she had so many men, why did she have to take Gang-Tae too? It just wasn't fair.

"Who?" She took a step up the stairs until she would see them, sitting close on the table, Gang-Tae's long legs dangling off the surface as Mun-Yeong sat crisscrossed facing him in a too-big shirt that hit her knee. It didn't take a genius to surmise whose shirt she was wearing, Ju-Ri thought bitterly, the only silver lining that it wasn't a piece of clothing they'd bought together.

Mun-Yeong had a butter wouldn't melt on my tongue expression on her face and Ju-Ri wanted to slap her again, why was she always playing innocent with him? She was anything but.

Gang-Tae didn't fall for her act thankfully instead starting to stand up, anger clear in the sharp lines of his body. Mun-Yeong's hand shot out and pulled him back down onto the table, she crawled closer, then he sat motionless, eyes low on her face.

"Are you jealous? He's a friend now. We become close during our- she gestured to them- break. " His lips snarled.

"He likes you."

"So?" Mun-Yeong responded, "Why does that matter? I don't like him, not like that."

Gang-Tae seemed taken back by her answer, huffing and then deflating before whispering in a defeated voice, "I just don't like it. I don't like the way he looks at you."

A sultry giggle fell from Mun-Yeong's smirking lips, "How does he look at me? Is it the same way you look at me? Does it make your heart ache? Do you like me?" With each question, she moved progressively closer, until she was planted in Gang-Tae's lap. Legs straddling him as he grabbed her waist, as she momentarily lost her balance.

He let out a furious breathe of air.

"I don't notice because I'm only ever looking at you." And then with startling accuracy, her eyes met Ju-Ri's, she felt a chill run through her bones, "And I'm not the only one that looks at you. You work and live with someone who is always looking at you. I don't mind, because I know you're mine. When you lose control, just grab me and kiss me. I'm yours to kiss. Stop being jealous and enjoy the fact that you have me."

Gang-Tae's eyes roamed her lips, thumb running across the plush opening, "You're the only one I want to look at me too. I don't see anyone else but you, you drive me so crazy." With a swift pull, he grabbed her head, intent clear on his face. Following through on her offer.

She bolted down the stairs before she could see their lips join, but not before hearing the crash as Mun-Yeong successfully tackled Gang-Tae, wet noises loud in the dark of night.

She got black out drunk in her bedroom. Telling herself she remembers nothing the next morning. Ignoring the indecently large red marks that mars Gang-Tae's neck as they awkwardly stumble around each other, leaving the house at the same time.

The director berates them all in his office, Ko Dae-Hwan, Mun-Yeong's father had attempted to choke her yet again, this time following her class. Someone had forgotten that he was explicitly not allowed to take that class and brought him, and as she was exiting the room, he had thrown his body across the stretch separating them, crushing hands tight around her neck, squeezing out her last breath. All the patients had started screaming, the room a chaotic mess, until finally they'd been able to sedate him and pry her from his grip.

Mun-Yeong had fled the room with tear-filled eyes and a glare directed at them as they had been making sure all the patients, including her father were okay.

Looking down the line, she realizes that Gang-Tae was missing from this reprimand. He was on a break when the situation had taken place. It didn't taken long before he burst through the door, "Where is she?" He only had eyes for the director, frantic and ready to run at a moment's notice.

The director replied, "Nurse Byeol saw her go into the women's room." And he was off, not bothering to spare the rest of them a glance.

She was only going to wash her hands she told herself, she didn't care how Mun-Yeong was doing, she was always fine. She wasn't sure Mun-Yeong even had feelings. Remembering, the manic smile that had spread across her face the last time her father had attempted to end her life.

"I'm here, it's okay. You're okay." Gang-Tae's deep voice echoed on the bathroom walls, soothing and calm. "I'm sorry I wasn't there, I'm so sorry. I'll never leave you again. I will protect you." He promised resolutely, sounding like her suffering was physically hurting him too.

She shouldn't be hearing this. It was too intimate a moment for outside ears.

She turned to give them privacy, but not before hearing Mun-Yeong tearfully state, "It's not the first time. He tried to kill me when I was a kid, why does he hate me?" Her voiced cracked on the last word, and Ju-Ri ran out of the room, eyes dewy.

She watched with her heart in her throat as minutes later they left together, Gang-Tae asking to leave early, the look on his face clearly saying he would leave with or without permission, their fingers interlocked, as he pulled her limp body out of the hospital.

He briefly stopped to place a gentle hand on Mun-Yeong's head, whispering something only she could hear, bringing a wet smile to her face. It was so tender, Ju-Ri couldn't watch.

The scene kept replaying in her head for days, what was it like to have someone want to protect you that way? Gang-Tae lost all inhibitions when it came to Mun-Yeong, he was bold and brazen and fiercely protective. Hurting anyone who dared to hurt her. She overheard from Cha-Young, that he had demanded to be the one to stand guard whenever Mun-Yeong was leading her classes.

He had stormed into the director's office and ordered that, stating that he was the only one who could adequately protect her.

That was where he was know she supposed, she hadn't seen him all day, she walked down the hallway leading to the class needing to understand their relationship, what made Mun-Yeong so special? If she started acting like a bitch would that get his attention? Was he attracted to her because they were such opposites, lost dissonances who found their way to each other?

Her thoughts stalled at the scene before her, the hospital would need to be routinely sanitized.

Gang-Tae towered over Mun-Yeong, hands firm on her waist as she giggled and attempted to pull away, "What are you doing? You said we weren't allowed to do this here anymore. Why don't you have to follow the rules you create?" She eyed him coyly, twisting out of his hold, only for him to easily drag her back, slamming her into the wall. His hand cushioned her head.

"I told you not to wear this to work, you're supposed to teach them, not seduce them." He retorted sternly, eyeing her ensemble, Ju-Ri agree her outfit was completely inappropriate for work. She donned, a emerald pleated skirt that barely reached her thighs, soft diaphanous white blouse with a bow tied at the neck, white laced boots and frilly socks.

"I think I look cute, like a blushing school girl. I thought you would like it." She answered from under her thick, wispy eyelashes. Her soft pink lips, opening in wonder. The picture of innocence.

He growled and leaned into her space, "I like it too much, that's exactly why you shouldn't wear it. I might lose control." He fingered, the pleats, tugging the skirt down as if to lengthen it.

She nodded her head, smacking his hands off her skirt with a tsk. Before lifting up onto her tiptoes, blowing warm air gently on his face, causing his eyes to flutter close, "Good."

Then she walked sashayed away, skirt swishing with each swing and dip of her hip. One final coy look over her shoulder, blowing a kiss and then a cheeky raspberry. Pssssst. 

He grasped the spot where she just was, watching her retreat with heated eyes, before finally letting out a frustrated, "Ko Mun-Yeong!" Before turning and entering the locker room with the reverberating slam of the door.

She didn't understand their relationship, didn't understand why Mun-Yeong deserved Gang-Tae and she didn't. Didn't understand how she made him lose control when nothing else could. Still didn’t see the appeal.  But maybe it wasn't her place to understand. Maybe it was time to stop dreaming an impossible dream.

[secretsniper2]

Part 2: Wet..

I wake, rolling over my alarm says 08:00, my day starts now. Blinking and drinking in my surroundings im surprised that im not bound anymore, Master probably released me from my situation before he too went to sleep, makes sense since I still have my morning routine to do. Spreading my thighs my hand creeps under the sheets and massages my clit, moisture instantly wetting my fingers as i rub up and down, fingers dancing expertly over my throbbing clit, being denied for so long my reaction is second nature now as my back arches up off my bed as my hand continues its assault on my senses. 1 edge moments later my mind abuzz with desire. Another edge, 3 to go and my morning can really begin. On and on my fingers go, dancing circles around my needy clit. Stopping just shy of another orgasm, 3 edges down. Pushing a finger and then another into my wet pussy I rub the walls and pull out seconds later. 4 edges down, returning my fingers to my box as my other hand clutches my breast, back still arched high, I slams down to the bed and thrusts my hands to my pillow. 5 edges done.

Climbing out of bed I go and brush my hair and then my teeth. A outfit is already laid out by my Master. A latex sleeveless shirt and matching pants, black high heels and a corset. My day will clearly be a tough one for me. Looking around I cannot find anything even resembling underwear. Knowing my punishment would be beyond measure if I were to dress my pussy myself I don my latex outfit for the day. Shirt, then the pants, sliding easily up my smooth legs as my juices made for handy lubricant. Pressing the latex on my pussy I pause. A simple deep breath removes my hand from what I know is forbidden to me now my morning edges are complete. Sitting on the bedside I clip my heels on so it doesn't fall off and put on my corset, only being able to loosely cinch it without help.

With great care, I walk out my bedroom door, slow paces in my high heels, my pussy rubbing against the latex with every step sending chills down my spine making my mind drift to my little buzzer throbbing away relentlessly. down the stairs, Master was waiting for me. Standing before him I assume my position on my knees, legs open palms up, head down.

“Good morning Master” I say keeping my head low.

“Morning my dear, sleep well i hope, i have a few fun things for you to enjoy today” my Master sounds eager.. its a little unsettling.

Standing up at his command I follow him to the dining room. Breakfast is already served. Im stunned, something is going on and Im concerned by what this means, my Master has almost never made breakfast for me. Heading to my seat I spot it. A large dildo, right where my pulsing pussy would lay, with my Masters guiding hand I ease down onto the large toy. The latex over my pussy parting at the intrusion! how could I not notice that gap when I put it on?? sliding down the thick cock my pussy serving to lubricate it all the way to the base. With a wet shlop Im completely full and I havnt even touched my bacon and eggs! perhaps a drink to calm my nerves, as I take a large gulp I feel warm.. a little too warm. Looking to my Master, he confirms my suspicions by raising his own glass. My pussy now spasming around the dildo as the aphrodisiac runs its course as I lean forward and stifle a moan.

My Master laughs at my situation. “Eat up my dear, your going to need your strength.” he says sending a flurry of chills down my spine leading right to my throbbing womanhood! gasping for air I raise a shaking hand to my fork and eat my food, likely spiked as well.. yes, its spiked. With each piece I swallow I feel the heat burn hotter, like a raging inferno my body craving the 1 thing my mind knows it must never have without consent! finishing my drugged meal my Master takes me by the hand and raises me up. Stopping several times to prevent a unauthorised orgasm. Leading me to the play room I see a device I have never seen before but it scares the hell out of me.

Standing, or lying in the middle of the room is a series of Stock restraints circling a large padded seat, leading me over to it, my Master lays me down flat. locking my wrists in their own personal Stock holders, followed by my ankles. Breathing faster at this development and my need constantly rising im hoisted in the air by the cushion im laying on, my restraints following suit. Standing beside me my Master reveals more holes in my latex, a hole per nipple with which he inserts a suction cup with a wire and covering it with the latex again, leaving just the wire exposed. moving down to my clit he reveals a suction cup, its thin and long and now, attached to my maddening, throbbing buzzer, he begins pumping. My eyes fly open in a combination of fear and arousal as my clit starts to get sucked into the tube, further and further its pulled from its hood till I feel it. Something hard is touching my clit, looking down Im greeted with a wire, pressing the tip of my isolated clit with the means to make me thrash around were I not restrained already. My drug ridden mind flooding with thoughts of my soon to be, hellish day that started too calmly as my Master slides a thick metal cock into my ass. I cant see it but I can bet theres a wire attached to it as well.

Moving to my head Master puts a dildo gag in my mouth and a latex hood over my head, my long red hair pulled through the back and the hood sealed tight. I cant see, I can barely hear and I can only weakly moan around this toy in my mouth, and as my thoughts go to the toy in my mouth, it expands, and again, and again! My mouth now completely full with cock my pleas and moans now a dull grunt, barely audible to those outside my hood. My pussy feels cold air, Master has moved the latex away from my drooling slit, heat radiating off my hungry hole, I breathe deep as Master presses his tongue against my slick folds. If I could scream, I would have. instead my legs tremble uncontrollably and my arms spasm, locked in my restraints thats all I really can do. Master licks again and again drawing more fluid from me. My breathing now very audible as air rushes in and out through my nose, Then I feel it. its coming, shit IM CUMMING! and then.. pure agony. My nipples cop it first, but only by microseconds, as they light up with electricity, followed by my ass and worst of all, my throbbing clit. My eyes shoot up into my skull as Im torn down from the plateau I was cresting mere moments ago! My pussy spasms in need as my Masters tongue only redoubles its assault knowing he has me, right where he wants me.

A full hour passes, and Masters Tongue leaves my pussy as another orgasm is slammed away by the electricity as this setup is designed to deny, not reward so I scream into my inflated cock gag. A few moments pass by idle as Im left to stew in my burning need, electricity occasionally zapping my nipples to make sure im denied release from my drug fuelled arousal. I hear Master say something outside my latex hood, I cant make out the words but he seems to know that I was only moments from cumming just now and thats led his to this pause to let me calm down, if that were possible with the drugs coursing through my veins and the intoxicating latex still coating my body and head Im swimming in a sea of arousal and Im not allowed to cum even a little even in my intense exhaustion im allowed only this peace of not being dragged kicking and screaming to more denial! A familiar sensation returns as Masters tongue reaffixes itself to my Labia and once again im lit of with electricity as another orgasm is beaten back, Round 2 begins.

2 Whole hours of torturous orgasm denial at Masters hands and tongue pass as im finally lowered to the ground, it only took a minute to unlock my limbs from the hellish devices that held me down, and another minute to free my ass, nipples and clit from their own hellish devices. A flick to the clit confirms Im still conscious. My Master picks me up and carries me to the nearby lounge, there he removes my hood and gag, and rests my head on his lap and runs his fingers through my sweat soaked hair. Stripping me of my latex suit, leaving only my heels on he continues my massage, as I regain my senses slowly.

“Master.. Thank you for training this slave to serve” I say weakly, as he cups my cheek with his tender hand, I roll over and fish out his throbbing cock and begin sucking, after all that pain and denial i need something I love, i need Masters cum in my mouth to savour the taste then swallow like the Good Slave I am. Eventually im rewarded with a mouthful as i drink every drop im given and swallow, it really is delicious to me now, I cant go back to a normal life, I belong to my Master.

Taking me to the loungeroom Master instructs me to edge for my lunch. A simple task but as he turns to leave he gives me the number. 30 edges.. My pussy pulses again and the flood gates reopen, I still havnt had that orgasm my body just remembered it was desperate for. oh god could I really do 30 in a row without stopping or spilling over? My Master seems to think so. Already days into my denial and with drugs wracking my brain I begin my edges. It only took a hour but I finally got them all. Another dose of drugged lunch and Im back to normal, if horny out of my mind is normal. The rest of my day is fairly standard compared to my morning training, part of me wants to do it again but not any time soon.

Pleasuring my Masters cock I polish his shoes after that in my favourite maid outfit, remembering to always bend at the waist, never the knees, my Master loves a good show. My daily chores complete Im taken to the shower and cleaned by my Master, taking great care not to rub over my pussy too hard. A lovely steak for dinner with some wine, I could hardly taste the drug in that wine, but my pussy sure felt it. My Master, eager to set me to bed attaches a chastity belt tightly to my pussy. I dont see the point as I would never touch without permission.. right?

[itrytowrite-things]

Niall’s ring

Niall Horan x reader 

Summary: It’s Y/N’s wedding day but she might be holding on to a piece of the past. 

A/N: Hey guy I just want to clarify the jargon, Y/N= your name, Y/BFF/N= your best friends name, Y/F/N= your friends name, Y/OF/N= your other friends name, Y/M/N= your mom’s name. 

The dressing room was filled with the laughter and chatter of bridesmaids as they circled around the bride. Y/N was wearing a beautiful white dress that covered the floor around her, her hair half up with the rest in loose curls framing her face. She felt beautiful with all her closest friends surrounding her gawking at her appearance in the vanity mirror. She absently mindly rotated the engagement ring around her finger. It still felt weird even though Derek gave it to her a year ago. Everyone's attention was now on the ring. 

“I still can’t believe the rock on that ring,” Y/F/N said, taking Y/N’s hand in her own. They all laughed, the ring was truly amazing. It was at least three carrots and noticeable from four feet away. It was breathtaking to another female in a twelve mile radius but Y/N had never been one for diamonds. 

“I have been meaning to ask what that ring is from?” Y/OF/N asked, pointing at the ring on the opposite hands ring finger. It was a simple ring with a metal square on top, a five petaled flower burned into the center of the square. “I don’t think I have ever seen you take it off within the four years that I have known you”. Y/N’s face slowly started to turn crimson at the comment. 

“A friend gave it to me a long time ago” Y/BFF/N let out a loud scoff turning everyone's attention to her. 

“It’s a ring that Niall gave her ten years ago” everyone’s face twisted into one of shock. They have all heard of Niall Horan it’s hard not to when he is ridiculously famous and ex best friend of one of your friends. They were also Y/N’s closest friends so they knew that best friends was not the best term to use for their previous relationship. 

“Y/N, maybe you should take it off,” Y/F/N said. The words took awhile to register in her head, She hadn’t taken the ring off except for a shower in ten years but it made sense. She shouldn’t wear Niall’s ring while she walks down the aisle. She slid the ring off her finger with slight resistance. All of the girls cheering as she placed the ring on the vanity. 

“Girls, the groomsmen need to practice walking one more time before the real deal” Y/M/N said poking her head into the room. A loud groan was shared between all the girls as they left.   

She holds the ring between her thumb and forefinger fiddling it between the two fingers. Her gaze remaining on the small flower burned into the metal. Tears were starting to brim in the corners of both eyes blurring her vision of the ring. The door’s hinges made a creaking sounds as an outsider stepped into the room. Only her mother and the bridesmaids were allowed in this part of the house, she knew it could only be Y/BFF/N.

“ I always thought he would give me a wedding ring to go along with it” the tears began flowing down her cheeks landing softly on the wooden vanity. 

“ I would have got you one, petal” that was the last voice she was expecting to hear, she spun her body around at lighting speed, the ring slipping from her grip landing on the carpeted floor softly.  

“I- I, You’re not supposed to be up here, Niall” She truly didn’t know what to say, he obviously wasn’t supposed to hear her confession. 

“I just wanted to see you before you walk down the aisle,” the awkward silence grew by the minute, Niall began rocking heel to toe still standing in the doorway. He made the decision to leave, turning his back to her. Y/N finally felt the courage to speak, 

“I would have said yes” her words were a mere whisper in the wind. Every syllable hit Niall’s heart like a bomb exploding a different piece each time until it was nothing but ash and memories of the chances he never took. She would have said yes and he was the idiot that toured the world and never thought to ask expecting her to stay here in this small town until his life slowed down.  

Bending down she swooped the ring off the floor, sliding it over the first centimetre of her index finger before realizing the action, the anger settling in her chest as his words rang in her ears. She ripped the ring off her finger violently, throwing it against the farthest wall. The tiny dink of the metal against wood did nothing to satisfy her anger. 

“I just saw Niall, he looked like he wanted to throw himself down the stairs, serves him ri-” Y/BFF/N sentence died at the sight of her best friend. She all but ran to Y/N her arm wrapping around her friend's frame. 

“Oh sweetheart what happened?” Y/BFF/N started rocking both of them back and forth trying to soothe the woman like she was a small child. The two friends stayed like that for a while Y/N’s cries filling the small dressing room. 

“I am scared I will always love him more than anyone else” Y/N's words came out breathy, she was holding back another wave of tears. She had already cried way too much for a bride on her wedding day. “I love Derek, I really do. I love his smile and I love being around him and his jokes. I love his hair and how he sings stupid songs in the shower. I-”

“Y/N” Y/BFF/N said stepping in to cut off the woman's rambles “You don’t have to prove that you love him to me” They both knew that Y/BFF/N wasn’t the person she was trying to prove anything too. 

“But, what if that’s not enough. What if I can never love him with everything in me because part of me will always be stuck in 2010 when he gave me that stupid ring and told me he loved me. I wanted to marry him so bad that I held on to the dumbass ring for ten years hoping that one day he would propose to me and I would be able to say this is the first ring your dad ever gave me to our kids” spit was flying from her mouth splattering against the mirror. The lump bobbing in her throat creating a choking sensation. 

“Hey, woah calm down. Breath.” she began rubbing a small circle in her back, Y/BFF/N had honestly been waiting for this occurrence. She had warned Y/N multiple times that inviting Niall to the wedding was a bad idea. 

A faint knock startled both girls, untangling their arms from each other both girls were surprised to see Niall back at the door. His hands were clasped in front of him. Y/N couldn’t help but think that he looked incredibly small in that moment, like the boy he was when he had given her that ring long ago. 

“Can I have a moment?” The question was directed at Y/BFF/N, she was glaring holes into his skin hoping that he would die. Her gazing moving towards Y/N looking for any sign of discomfort when she showed none. Y/BFF/N slowly made her way out the room, closing the door as she made her final descent. 

“I just want to say, m’sorry. It’s your wedding day and I want you to be happy s’all” he was still standing nervously by the door not wanting to overstep his bounds. She let out a huge sigh. 

“I love you Niall, I have always loved you and will always love you till the day I die. The day you left for x-factor broke my heart and you gave me that ring and I kept it on for ten year Ni, TEN YEARS! Through three boyfriends and an engagement I kept that dumb ass flower promise ring on hoping that you would come back to me and you never did” Niall opened his mouth trying to think of something to say “No, and I never hated you for it. I wanted nothing but success for you because out of everyone in this world you deserved it. I just wished you had stopped to come back for me.” Her breaths came out ragged and sharp. Her heart was laying on the floor and she couldn’t decide if that was a good decision. He would either stomp on it again or pick it up and both frightened her. Niall’s feet were pulling him closer to the girl he had broken. His arms wrapping around her waist before he could think too hard about it. 

“ I am so sorry, love. I waited too long and I will never forgive myself for that. But I would just ruin your life, petal. My career is not stopping and you deserve someone like Derek that can be there every day and be there for you and your kids one day and be a happy family. I want that so bad, only ever wanted that with you, but I can’t give you that to you, sweetheart” Her body moving into his, needing to feel his chest against her cheek. There was nothing left to say between the two. 

Y/N wiped her face pulling back to look at Niall in the eyes for the first time. Fresh tears were still leaking out of his crystal blue eyes. Her thumb moved to wipe his tear stained cheeks, It was like caring for him and was wired into her system.

“I forgive you” she wasn’t sure those were the right words to say, but Niall let out a sigh of relief regardless making her feel better about her choices. Their foreheads moving together until they bumped. Niall's hand moving up to cup Y/N’s Jaw. The kiss was short one second Niall’s lips were pressed firmly against her and the next they were gone. 

“I will always love you, petal. Never forget that” He swiftly moved out of the door. Y/N stood rooted in her stop listening to his footsteps get farther away. 

“Okay” she said aloud to the empty room smoothing down the wrinkles in her dress. “Time to get married”

[jostepherjoestar]

An Educational Favour: IV

NOTsfw // FEM! reader & pronouns

warnings/notes: 18+ content, minors dni, it’s Formaggio x reader and Risotto close by, interc0urse, v0yeurism?, taking it slooooow, butt stuff (penetration), discussion of prepping too!, the tension between ris and you is just.. wow

part 1- 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

PART IV: 🧀Formaggio🧀

You slumped down on the beanbag that huffed under your movements, a few kernels that filled the bag twirling as the air pushed them out. Just like the seating you let out a long sigh, pulling the thick sweater sleeves over your hands and sitting on them in annoyance, trying to stop yourself from nervously chewing on your nails. Nothing felt right today, the way the sun barely broke through the clouds causing a dreary mood to settle on home-base, every glance in the mirror making you tug at your appearance, straightening your posture in attempt to look even slightly appealing to your own critical mind. Choosing the bulky sweater and your soft pyjama pants to grace the figure you so condemned today. Not all days are meant to be great but it was a disappointing start since later on you’d made plans to go on another titillating adventure, this time with the easygoing man named Formaggio. You weren’t dreading it but after you spilt your coffee all over the kitchen counter this morning and stubbed your toes on the heavy couch that rested a few meters away from you, glaring at it while sat in the one thing that couldn’t hurt you for now, you weren’t sure if today would even go right. 

The entire atmosphere seemed to move against you, like a migrating salmon moving upstream, waiting for a bear to come put you out of your misery. Speaking of bears… Risotto’s large figure waltzed into the room as you huffed out an amused chuckle as you imagined him sinking his claws into your scaly body and tearing at your flesh. Not quite the ravaging you’d asked him for. “Is everything alright there?” His familiar deep voice coaxing you out of the conflicting fantasy to meet his gaze. It seemed that today had also claimed your capo as their unfortunate victim. Thin black coloured metal frames resting on his shapely nose, the one that reminded you so much of Michelangelo’s David, carefully chiseled after much consideration. He reserved his glasses for off days, just like his relaxed outfit of pyjama pants and a black robe, the sparkling image of comfort. “Yeah yeah, I’m fine. Today just feels… off.” Resounding the last word in perfect unison before Risotto chuckled, the sound alone unearthing a pleasant feeling. “Let’s hope Formaggio is in good spirits.” He huffed while taking a seat on the creaky leather couch, groaning a bit as he stretched his arms over the backrest. 

“What was that about being in a good mood?” The smooth cadence ringing out into the quiet space of the living room. His words followed by a long stretched out yawn, feet dragging over the wooden floor as if lifting them were an arduous chore. It seemed the universe claimed yet another one into the lazy mood, like it forced all to remain seated or else you’d face its wrath of misfortune. Not that a peaceful day hadn’t been a welcome one, the strain of working jobs could lay heavily on the shoulders of La Squadra Esecuzioni. “Today’s a bit shit, huh?” Groans of approval coming from the two men lounging on the couch. “What are we gonna do about tonight? Cancel?” You spoke up, worried that it just wasn’t the right day and you’d have to reschedule which would mean a longer wait and some shuffling of the roster to make it work out. 

“Nah, too much of a bother. Besides, maybe it’ll work out just fine. No one’s home right now anyway.” It was true, it would be a bother and no one was home besides the three of you, all out on their respective assignments. You silently wished them all a more successful day considering the mood. You hummed in agreement as you got up to join them on the leather seats, trying to choose the perfect spot. But between Risotto’s large figure spread out so widely and Formaggio not really bothering to close his legs, there was no more room to speak of. “Hey! What about me?” You whined, tugging at the hem of your soft sweater, not up for a fight. “Got a special seat right here lady.” Formaggio’s smug grin darting between your figure and the space between his groin and the couch. You shot your capo a pleading look, begging him to step in like an annoyed child asking their mother to scold their older sibling. 

“Don’t look at me, we’re all adults here.” That little smirk starting to dent his cheek ever so slightly, letting you know there was no ally to be found in your dark eyed colleague. He looked so handsome and refined wearing those frames, different than his usual rugged state that was no less attractive. “As I said… there’s no one home but us.” The grey haired man smothering his words in a heavy helping of salaciousness as he eyed you up again. Sensing the shifting mood, letting a few familiar tingles loose inside of you as you fidgeted, unsure if you should take the bait. “I-I haven’t gotten ready yet, Formaggio. I look like a mess!” Today’s critical mind still gnawing at you, never one to easily back down. You’d been glad your previous partners had received the confident you that was her own proud cheerleader, but today she was on break, leaving you in front of a filled stadium with no remorse. “Pfft. A mess? Jesus, you couldn’t look bad if you tried. I’ll show you just how pretty you are, inside and out.” He gestured you over again, his expression a bit sterner to meet the seriousness of his words. It wasn’t just to make you feel better, he was being truthful. Risotto just admired from his comfortable crook, wishing to chime in on the complements but opting to just let Formaggio do the sweet talking. 

You finally take him up on the offer and slid in between his legs, letting his arms slip through your elbows to cradle you into his touch as he pressed his torso closer to your back. Hot breaths tickled your neck, a sensitive shudder moving through you, straight down into your panties. Grabbing onto his hand that locked you into him as he gently moved aside your hair to place wet kisses along your neck. Lazily sucking at your tender skin, making you let out a small moan when another shiver ran through you, earning a chuckle from him. “Are you always this sensitive? Then again, by the sounds I’ve heard coming from you, that might be true.” Feeling his surprisingly soft lips curl into a smile as he continued leaving marks. Remembering just how audible you’ve been with the rest, bringing a blush to your cheeks as your skin heated in reaction. You could feel Risotto’s laser-focus on you, admiring just how cutely you were reacting to the intimate pecks. 

As Formaggio made his way to your cheek, planting more wet sloppy kisses wherever he felt like, you felt his grip around you loosen and his hand snaking under your sweater to grope your chest. Toying with your nipple through the fabric of your thin bralette, his pulls and teases only making you more satisfied with the choice of undergarments. Your soft pants were cut off by his lips ghosting over yours, deep hums tickling you as he lingered over them, basking in the barely-there touch. His movements remained at such a leisurely pace, so intoxicating it subdued any feelings of impatience, his actions reflecting his personality; lax and engaging.

His plump lips like a warm hug as he met yours, hand still kneading your breast as a tentative squeeze made you moan into him. Moving in deeper, welcoming him into your awaiting mouth as his curious tongue set the pace to slow and steady. Wet sounds filled the air with the occasional muffled moan. “You’re absolutely beautiful, you know that? The way you so eagerly let go, so ready to get lost. You’ve driven us all quite wild, kitten.” Every word sticking to your flushed cheeks like glue as his sweet voice whispered, getting drunk off of his praise. 

“Could you take those off for me sweetheart?” You hummed in reply, he had already been toying at the edge of your soft pyjama bottoms, his head moving back into your neck where he stayed and placed more wet pecks, nibbling at your ear to egg you on. You made quick work of your bottoms, now bare, resting on the leather couch cushions warmed by your combined body heat. “Move up your legs a bit, I’ll treat you so good, darlin’.” You moved back further into him so you could bend your knees and rest your feet on his spread knees. You felt so exposed, cold air contrasting the warmth Formaggio was giving off behind you. Your breasts aching, wanting to feel his touch again as he slid out his hand from under your sweater, his other arm coming around to grasp you like your capo had done so sweetly last time as Ghiaccio pleased you.

Carefully, as if handling a precious work of art, the man let thick fingers slide over your folds, already glistening in your wetness from his sultry work in your neck. His delicateness making your breath hitch and your feet desperately trying to cling onto his knees. “So sensitive, so sweet. You want me to touch you more?” He singsonged so closely into the shell of your ear. He could coax anything out of you if he kept up his alluring pace. As you nodded with a needy moan he slid between them, working a finger aggravatingly slow over your clit. As more mewls escaped while you clung to his thighs, digging into them whenever he rubbed just right, he kept his lazy sucking going, sure he’s left a mark on your neck by now. “Do you want Risotto to touch himself too, just as slowly as us?” He grinned, having heard from Illuso just how much you like that. “Y-yes please.” You stuttered, words having a hard time leaving your lips as he kept up his leisurely movements. 

The creaks of the leather let you know Risotto was doing just as asked, your eyes were too busy being pressed shut from Formaggio’s expert circles to check. “We’re gonna take our time today, kitten.” A cheeky nibble at your earlobe as he spoke so tenderly. The memory of the strange energy that made you question today’s success already a forgotten one, what your were up to now was a lot more worthy to stick around your consciousness. 

Squelching sounds from how incredibly wet the slow pace made you harmonised so well with the barely audible sound of Risotto’s heavier breathing as he calmly stroked himself. The pace urging both of you to remain patient as heat started to build up steadily. Like water slowly rising, a steady flow being let in to painstakingly reach its limit. Formaggio occasionally dipped into your warm hole, slowly collecting your essence and spreading it over your folds. He worked you all over, giving your entire pussy the attention it deserved. As your breathing got heavier with the rising heat of your orgasm, walls clenching around nothingness, his pace didn’t falter, continuing his skilful rubs over your overly sensitive bud. “Do you want to come?” He purred into your neck, breaths so hot and heavy it made you want to combust. “P-please!” You begged so sweetly, he was already planning on letting you come but that whine sent a jolt straight to his hardening cock, twitching as it rubbed against your behind. “Do you want Risotto to come too?” His mischievous question paired with a quick dip between your aching walls. “Not y-yet.” It was an honest reply, you knew Formaggio wasn’t leaving you after rubbing you so nicely. Your capo will have to stretch his patience even thinner and slow his movements even more. The dark eyed man groaning as he heard your reply, but not of annoyance or denying him his pleasure for a little while more. The way you made him obey orders, even as softly as you gave them, made him only want to please you more. This whole endeavour of observing and letting his teammates have a say in his actions greatly aroused him, but most of all it was the slow build up to the end; having you all to himself. 

Formaggio chuckled into your crook, letting you get your wish as he worked you through the rising gratification. The limit had been reached as you breathed out deeply with a loud continuous moan as it overflowed slowly, the peak only dragged out as the grey haired man kept his steady movements going to let you ride it out. Squirming through the ripples, pinching your knees together as you clamped your nails into his thighs to ground yourself from the full body sensation. The pool had stilled, panting as you slowly regained your senses, the feeling of your own wetness dripping onto the couch causing a small smile to appear onto your satisfied face. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to make you come. All those times I heard you, I only wished it was me that was making you feel so good.” A sloppy, wet suck onto your neck that had been lapped so delicately throughout. “Thank you Formaggio.” You sighed, the thought of him stroking himself while the others fucked you such a titillating visual it made your walls clench again. “Oh don’t thank me now, sweetheart. We’re not done yet. I’m gonna go grab something, could you lay down for me?” His voice leading you down as he gently placed your feet back onto the floor.

As he slid out from behind you and left the room, still riding on the high of the thorough orgasm you silently met your capo’s gaze. Stroking his large member ever so slightly, grasping the base firmly while his thumb caressed his sensitive underside. His frames had crept down his nose, his eyes so focused on yours, tethered onto you as you moved closer. The tension so palpable it made your hand tremble as you pushed the bridge of the frames back up his stunning nose. Slowly retracting, clinging onto every bit of self control not to kiss the beautiful specimen in front of you. You hesitated for a second, letting yourself linger in his space before deciding it would be best to move down like Formaggio had asked. It took just as much strength from your capo to restrain his desire, holding back from taking you into his arms. Instead he kept up his increasingly slow strokes, letting his pleasure build.

Formaggio returned, glad to see you’ve positioned yourself like he had asked, head resting near Risotto’s figure while your legs spread out. “I assume you’ve prepped just like I asked, kitten?” The man moved back onto the couch, placing himself between your legs, holding a bottle of clear lube he’d brought with. His gaze so lovingly taking in the blush on your cheeks as you nodded. God you were such a treat, waiting to get ravaged. Somehow, even after literally just making you come, you were a bit embarrassed to admit you prepped yourself to let him play with your ass. “Good girl.” He praised while moving his hands over your legs carefully. “Let’s play first, get you used to it huh?” Moving his bottoms down to meet yours on the floor, his hardened cock just as casual as its owner. Uncut and packing girth as it bobbed while he moved, a small gathering of pre-come beading at the head of his adequate length. 

“We’re going to keep going slow, ok? Don’t get too worked up when my dick’s in your pretty mouth.” That warm chuckle making your muscles relax as he moved over you, his member looming over your face as his warm breaths tickled your inner thighs, opening them further. Remembering his words you nipped at his cock, soft lips pecking the tip as your deft finger moved downward to reveal his head. Languid licks like honey dripping on a cold day; slow and at its own volition. His groan of satisfaction so buttery and smooth into your plush skin. Formaggio’s hands massaged your thighs and hips, kneading them in an attempt to relax every muscle before starting his exploit of your tight hole. 

There’s a first time for everything, the very reason you had embarked on this exploit. As exciting as the last few times were, nervousness remained at the though of letting Formaggio play with a different hole. He’d asked beforehand if you were comfortable with it, his charms doing the talking, relaxing you and assuring it was alright if you weren’t. But that eager curiosity’s hold on you was ever so strong, bravery pushing you further to accept. The preparations he asked of you were simple: clean thoroughly and try out a finger or two when you’re playing with yourself. And to your surprise it was nowhere as bad as you expected, making you all the more excited to let more experienced hands work away at you. 

While it was a struggle to contain your excitement, the relaxed and sloth like aura Formaggio emitted helped you remain calm. Slow, twisting movements over his girth, having received a dollop of the cool gel on your fingers, lewd squelching sounds erupting every time you moved up and down his shaft. You’d suckle on his tip, tongue moving and flicking at the dripping slit, making sure to take all the time in the world while he began rubbing over your hole. The previously chilly lubed fingers heating up considerably, the way you were burning up from the sensation spreading through you. The slick tip of his thick finger gently pressing in while he groaned, mumbling how tight you were under his breath. As he moved his finger deeper it made you stop rubbing him for a second, regaining your breath, trying to relax your muscles so you’d enjoy the sensation. 

“That’s it sweetheart. You’re doing good. We’re gonna keep going before I stuff you with my dick.” Your moan vibrating through his hard cock when he pulled out. Only to return with another finger, adding even more of the slick lube. As he moved in you felt your walls contract in pleasure, your core aching for stimulation as Formaggio started pumping in and out to work you open. Moaning louder and louder, the pleasure so different than anything else you’ve experienced. Saliva dripped out of the corner of your mouth, salivating while you took his heavy sack in your mouth to play with them. The way he let out a hiss while you felt them twitch let you know just how much he liked it. 

You were getting so worked up by his actions, patience growing ever thinner as you wished for him to fill you up. “Formaggio I need you. Please fuck me.” A whiny beg, so needy. It only made him chuckle, your eagerness so endearing. His teammates weren’t wrong when they said you were such a good girl. “Can’t deny you, now can I?” He grinned while moving over you, placing himself between your legs, admiring the way your pussy was still dripping and awaiting any new form of stimulation. It almost made him feel bad that he would be working your tight little asshole instead. Almost. 

His shaft was still thoroughly wet from the way you slobbered all over him, mixed with the generous dollop of lube he’d provided you with. His spongy tip prodding at the tight muscle, shushing you and kneading your hips to let you relax. As he slowly entered, letting you engulf his tip he waited, hissing and groaning at the feeling of your walls constricting him. “Fuck, you are so damn tight!” Letting himself gently work further into you, the feeling of his thick cock so delicious inside you while you whined. He finally let his hand that guided his thickness inside of you go, letting his hips set a gradual pace. Those skilful fingers now moving back to rub soft circles on your aching clit, the return so welcome as you moaned loudly at the simultaneous stimulation. Back arching off the couch as you felt your pleasure earn footing again, building slowly just like before. “Risotto… Speed up.”

Your command a welcome one to your throbbing capo, his length now a dark red from the prolonged stimulation, questioning if there was any blood left in his body that hadn’t rushed to his cock. As if a conductor urging their orchestra, harmonising moans and groans filled the room, your capo finally letting himself get comfortable with being a little more noisy. Formaggio felt his own pace falter, speeding up to chase his release as his circles on your clit grew faster and tighter. Moving in tandem with his thrusts inside your strained hole, he felt you clench, milking him, bringing him just at his limit before he pulled out. He continued at a fervent pace over your bud, his other hand stroking his shaft as thick ropes of pearly cum landed on your stomach after he moved up your sweater. His buttery voice so beautifully hoarse now when his breath hitches during his orgasm. Just as he did, your own followed, the familiar waves of pleasure careening through you, pressing your eyes shut, letting yourself get back down from the peak. 

Not even needing a command, Risotto came too. A groan so sweet and deep, his body tensing up and twitching at his long awaited peak. Thick strokes of cum landed in your hair, the man behind you not expecting the orgasm to hit so hard. “Shit!” It only made you giggle at the feeling, knowing you’d end up in the shower anyway. You set yourself back straight on the cushions, blush still covering your cheeks and chest, the sweater getting too hot and constricting. Taking it off along with your bralette, sighing at the satisfaction of the newfound experience. “Was that any good?” Formaggio huffed as he tiredly slid down next to you, a gentle hand squeezing your thigh. “More than good Maggi. You’re really good with your hands.” Chuckling at the way his ministrations made bliss flood all over your body. “Why don’t you tidy up here. I’ll get her cleaned up.” Risotto’s voice surprised you, when he remained so still in his corner, breaths so soft you barely heard them; it was like he’d merged with the couch itself. “Yea sure, whatever you say.” Formaggio looked about ready to pass out, eyes drooping as he slid deeper into the couch, all tuckered out from his work. 

It felt nice to have Risotto be so adamant on taking care of you afterwards. A ritual he didn’t want to let another indulge in. Even last time, after the cuddle session that followed Ghiaccio’s meeting, he insisted on helping you get cleaned. Not that his face would let it show, but he felt dejected when you replied you’d take a shower yourself, any more stimulation to your skin setting it aflame after the rough get-together. 

Just like before he ran a bath for you, letting the soft bubbles grow bigger. He looked so adorable now, those glasses really suited him, offering a softer balance to his features. “You look very cute in those Risotto, you should wear them more often.” You chuckled while staring up at him from the warm tub. He had stayed and rested on the side, having taken off his robe so he could dabble his arm in the water. He looked a little too deep in thought, staring at the ripples his movements created through the foam. “Do you want to get in?” Your cute smile and that bright twinkle in your eyes so alluring, like a siren in his very own residence. He had been thinking about it, wanting to hug you close while you gently got each other all washed up. “No, it’s ok. Later. Take your time.” His deep sigh making you question if that’s what he actually wanted. You willed yourself not to get too caught up, not to assume what he’d been thinking. 

For now you’d just try and relax, soaking up the heat from the relaxing bath and checking off another wish. Your memory book starting to get quite full of experience thanks to your teammates. The last three candidates left offering the final challenges. A devious grin at the thought of the final champions.