#shou wears skirts for the room

[hebezunet]

teru is the kind of trans where clothing and accessories have no association to gender and he can wear and do whatever he wants. ritsu is the kind of trans where he wants to distance himself so far away from typically feminine things and it takes him a really long time to accept stuff like painting your nails is not girly. shou is the kind of trans where they just found 500 yen on the ground and bought a hot dog

[anothershorthuman]

Stay Alive Pt. 5

pairings: nct dream x platonic!reader, afab!reader (they wear a skirt, but they/them pronouns are used), ??? x reader x ???

genre: zombie apocalypse au, high school au, angst, fluff, humor, not really horror but it's zombies ya'know

word count: 1.7k

series warnings: blood, injuries & fighting, suicide, character death, swearing, again... zombies.

chpt warnings: vague amount of violence (knife) (it's more like threatening ig), swearing, .. i think that's everything.

summary: nobody was ready for a zombie apocalypse. you were definitely not ready for a zombie apocalypse. while contemplating just giving up and accepting your fate, you meet a group of boys. life may seem pointless now, but at the very least, you now have a reason to stay alive.

previous : masterlist : next

“Leave before I stab you.” you spit at them. 

How are they supposed to feel when someone unknown is threatening them with a knife? Jeno didn’t like the idea of hurting a person but he would swing without hesitation if you proved to be a threat. 

Their stillness seems to annoy you as you wave the knife around in exaggerated movements, “I’m not afraid to use this, so stay back!” 

Once again your threat is not taken seriously. Despite the weapon you are carelessly aiming at them, your arm is shaking, as if it could barely hold itself up. The blood on your clothes is concerning but there's no way for the boys to tell if it belongs to you or someone else.

Out of the seven, four of them seem to recognize you. Chenle steps from behind Jeno, gently lowering his bat before squatting in front of you. He is seemingly unbothered by how you point the knife in his direction and his calm demeanor is like a breath of fresh air for you. “Hey, you’re in Ms. Park's homeroom, right? I sit a couple seats away from you. My name is Chenle.”

You take a moment to try to remember the boy in front of you and the boys can pinpoint the exact moment your gaze turns from confusion to recognition. You finally drop the knife and a couple of them flinch at the clattering it makes when it hits the ground. Reassured by your fading hostility, Jisung also introduces himself as another person in that class, topping it off with an awkward wave that you return.

Jeno releases a breath of relief and lowers the bat, “Why are you just sitting here? Do you threaten everyone you run into?”

You lift your gaze to meet his and shrug, “A group of people just burst into the room that I’ve been sleeping in. I’m sorry for being cautious of strangers during a zombie apocalypse.” Your attitude catches them off guard, just a second ago you seemed exhausted and about to pass out. Jeno scoffs at this and walks away, Haechan hot on his trail.

“Don’t worry about him,” Chenle reassures you, “He’s the muscle of the group so he’s in protective mode.”

Jaemin joins the four of you on the ground. You notice the way his eyebrows raise when he starts speaking, “Is that blood yours?” He points at your blood covered uniform.

Your head lowers, eyes following his finger. Jaemin can see exhaustion return to your features and he feels guilty for reminding you of something traumatic that could have just happened to you.

In a soft voice you answer his question, “It’s Jungwoo’s blood.”

All of the second years heads snap up at the mention of the boy. Mark, who was sitting at a greater distance from you, scoots closer. “Jungwoo, like the second year on the volleyball team? Is- is he okay?”

Mark and Jeno had both befriended the volleyball player. Most second year athletes were friendly with each other and even hung out after school. Now that Mark is facing you, he recognizes you as the person Jungwoo would sometimes ditch their lunch table to sit with. A couple of them had asked Jungeoo why he hadn’t just invited his friend to sit at their table so that he wouldn’t have to leave, but he would dismiss the idea, telling them that his friend was shy… and that he wanted them all to himself.

Looking back on this moment, Mark shouldn’t have asked you that question. The blood and clear exhaustion on your face should have been a sign that Jungwoo was not okay, but he couldn’t help but hold onto a little bit of hope that at least one other of his friends was still alive.

His expression still fell when you shook your head no to his question.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. None of you can come up with anything else to say, so you all just sit in silence.

…

After a few hours of doing nothing, well some of them have taken naps and others have eaten the snacks you had left, some of the boys were growing restless with their stagnancy. 

“I think we should leave,” Renjun says. “If anyone was coming to save us, they would have already.”

Haechan instantly perks up at the mention of leaving school, “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you guys!” His sudden perkiness throws you off, but you choose not to comment on it when you notice that none of the boys seem to be surprised by his sudden tone shift. 

“My mom told me that she and my family are hiding in the corner store on the street I live on. Apparently a bunch of our neighbors are in there together, so maybe we should head there? I get that you guys probably want to find your own families, so I don’t really mind going by myself.”

Jaemin shakes his head no, “It’s safer if we move in a group. We’ll make sure you get there safely and then if the others want to look for their families we’ll leave.” 

Agreeing with his idea, the boys started standing up, some stretching, others grabbing onto their bats. 

Renjun glanced around the room, making sure that they all seemed prepared to leave. Noticing that you were still sitting on the ground, he walks over to you before nudging you gently with the bat in his hand, “Let’s go.”

You slowly lift your head and make eye contact with him, “What makes you think that I want to go with you?”

“So, what?” Jeno asks, “You’re just going to wait in here until you become a meal?”

You shrug, “Yea, pretty much.”

Once again, your bluntness, your indifference, to reality is concerning to the boys.

“You can’t be serious!” Jisung exclaims. His sudden loudness causes Mark to put his hand onto Jisung’s shoulder. You can’t help noticing that it seems like a warning, as if provoking you would be dangerous. 

Chenle sits next to you, “You don’t want to keep going?”

Haechan notices your gaze softens when you look at Chenle. You were dismissive before, but Chenle’s legitimate concern for you does affect you, whether you want to admit it or not. 

“Why should I keep going? I have nothing left.”

A few of them shake their heads at your statement and it annoys you. They don’t know me. How could they possibly disagree with me when they don’t know shit about me.

“You always have something,” Mark says, “You have yourself-”

“I couldn’t care less.” You interrupt.

“I bet Jungwoo did.”

You jump up from your spot, your suddenness causes Chenle to flinch, but it doesn’t stop you from shoving your backpack into Jeno’s chest and forcibly making Mark hold your knife.

Mark takes a step away from you and his grip on the knife tightens when you take a step forward. He points it at you, but you keep taking more steps. The tip of the knife touches your chest and it hurts when you push into it, but Mark keeps taking steps backwards hoping you'll stop until he’s backed against the wall.

Chenle and Jisung watch in shock, and Haechan stops the others from pulling you off Mark.

“Do not talk about Jungwoo.” You hiss at him. You speak so faintly that the others need to strain their ears to hear you. Mark can’t even focus on what you're saying to him, his heart is racing and his eyes are moving rapidly across your face. He notices your cracked lips, greasy hair, the twitching of your fingers.

“Don’t pretend to know anything about my friendship with Jungwoo, don’t pretend to care about me, you don’t even know me. You’ve never cared enough to get to know me or anyone that wasn’t an athlete. Jungwoo was an idiot, too trusting, but he was kind.” 

Your voice cracked at that last word, and it's then that Mark looks into your eyes. They are red and tears begin spilling from them, though he can tell that you’re trying your best to keep them from falling. He lowers the knife and the pressure on your chest disappears. You wonder if Jungwoo felt that same pressure when he walked into the knife earlier, if he could still feel anything then. 

“You only pretend to be kind.” You spit at him, “I don’t want your fucking pity.” 

You turn to walk away from Mark only to see the rest of their expressions. You quickly wipe your face clean of your tears, “I don’t want any of your fucking pity. Leave me the fuck alone.”

Jisung stands mouth agape at what happened before rushing over to Mark, making sure he’s okay. Mark is quick to tell him that he is fine.

The others remain stunned at your outburst and watch you return to the same spot you had been sitting at before. 

The boys crowd around Mark, first making sure that he’s okay before discussing what to do. 

“We should leave before it gets late, maybe find food first.” Jeno says.

To everyone's surprise, Haechan is the first to disagree, “I don’t think we should leave them.”

“You know I can still hear you, right?” The boys glance at you before going back to their conversation. 

“Not everybody can be saved,” Renjun says, “especially not people that don’t want to be.”

“Correct,” you chime in.

Jaemin rolls his eyes, “Just because they don’t want to be saved doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t try.”

Unbeknown to the boys, this causes you to perk up, recognition flashes in your eyes before you slump over again. 

Jeno doesn’t want to leave you for dead. He doesn’t know you at all, and you just threatened his friend, but he’s not sure if he could deal with his own consciousness if they just left. Would he feel guilty? Would that even matter? Would adding another person to their group, one that doesn’t seem to care about their own well being, make it harder on the rest of them to survive? He’s about to speak up with his concerns when Chenle is suddenly walking away from them.

“I’m not leaving without them.” He says, plopping down next to you again. He smiles gently at you and it widens when he sees the faintest curl of your lip. 

“It’s settled, then.” Mark says, walking toward you too. “We won’t leave without them.”

Jeno isn't sure if this is the best decision in the long run, but he can tell that Mark now feels like he has something to prove. All he cares about is helping his friends. And if that means helping you too, then so be it.

...

tagging! @staysstrays, @caspervoid, @alyselenai, @lethephin, @leechipp, @kodzukena, @rkiveruinz

wanna be tagged ? click here:)

a/n: hellooo ! it has been forever since the last chapter, im sorry. life has been a little rough ngl and this semester has been so busy for me, but im going to try to post more often:) let me know what you think of this (short) chapter!

[helfireclub]

Dancing with the Devil { Eddie Munson x OC}

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7| Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 (18+) | Chapter 11 

Chapter 1: A whole new town 

General POV.

 *AC/DC Highway to Hell is playing*

 Lilly was looking out of the window of the moving car.

There was a huge trailer behind the car pulling all the possession of her and her mom.

Lilly and her mom were leaving the big city behind.

Her mom said it would be just as pretty and cool here as in Indianapolis.

But the more they were lowering towards Hawkins the less buildings or towns she saw.

It was like they were in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.

 Lilly was not agreeing with her mom at all.

She wanted to stay in Indianapolis, but her mom was head over heels for some guy, she had met at work.

He had a huge home in Hawkins where he was living with his son, or since he and his wife parted he was living half with him, half with his mom.

 Lilly had all her friends in Indianapolis, which she needed to leave behind.

And it was like going back in time. That was what she was most afraid off.

In the big city people were less judgmental you didn’t know everyone so they let you walk around in everything you wanted and the schools were so big.

But here..

Lilly wasn’t your average girl.

She wasn’t the blonde preppy cheerleader. She had strawberry blonde hair and it was till the small of her back.

She loved wearing skinny jeans and band tshirts, she wasn’t really the skirt wearing girl.

 ‘Lilly ! Lil! Elizabeth Rose Johnson. ‘ her mom sounded.

 ‘Hmm?’ Lilly took of her headphones and looked up towards her mom.

 ‘I asked what were you listening to? We’re almost here.’ Her mom said.

 ‘Highway to hell.’ Lilly answered with a smirk on her lips.

Her mom rolled her eyes.

‘It’s probably not even that bad.’ Her mom said while putting her hand on Lilly’s arm.

 ‘This is good for us.’ Her mom said.

 ‘Sure.’ Lilly answered.

Her mom was Lilly’s everything, she loved music not that much the hard rock/metal vibe.

But her mom had some real beatlefever and she loved Queen.

Lilly liked almost everything she had a huge variety of music with her.

 And she really hoped that the son of this man could appreciate some music so they had something to talk about.

 ‘Here we are ! ‘ Her mom almost squeeled with excitement.

‘Put those headphones away Lil.’ Her moms said before pulling up the huge driveway.

The door opened and a tall darkblonde man came out.

He was the same age as her mom.

And he looked stern but when he saw Lilly’s mom jump out of the car.

A smile appeared on the mans face.

 And they took each other in an embrace and a long kiss.

Lilly rolled her eyes.

And stepped out of the car.

 She was wearing red converse, baggy jeans and a black star wars t-shirt.

Her long blonde hair was tied back in a bun on the top of her head.

She threw the cardoor shut, which made her mom broke her intense swallowing with her new boyfriend.

 The man came walking up to her, and put his hand for her to shake.

She shook his hand.

‘I’m John Harrington, you must be Elizabeth.’ he asked.

 ‘Nice to meet you mr. Harrington.’ Lilly answered.

‘You can call me Lizzy, I don’t’ really use Elizabeth.’ she said with a smile.

 He nodded and walked back to the door.

‘Steven! Get your ass out here.’ He shouted in the house.

 After a few minutes a guys came out of the house.

Wearing white nikes, skinny jeans and a black tshirt.

His hair was darkblonde or almost brown. But it was huge.

Lilly was about to frown but it turned on her, it looked kinda cool.

 ‘Hi Steven!’ Lilly’s mom said while pointing her hand in his way.

He took her hand and shook it.

 ‘This is my daughter Lilly.’ Her mom said pulling Lilly in front of her.

Steve had a soft smile on his face and stook out his hand.

 ‘Steve.’ He said.

‘Lilly.’ Lilly answered while shaking his hand.

 ‘Steve, show her her room, I’ll give Mary a cup of coffee.’ Mr. Harrington said.

He nodded and opened the door for Lilly.

Lilly let her backpack slid of her shoulder when she stepped inside.

 ‘Jesus.’ She said while looking around.

‘Yeah I know right.’ Steve answered he walked up the stairs.

 ‘Uhh bathroom is over here.’ He said pointing to a door.

‘This is my room.’ He said pushing open the door, it was a typical boys room.

A huge Madonna poster on his wall.

 ‘Madonna nice.’ Lilly said with a smirk.

‘What can I say , she’s good.’ Steve answered before walking a room further.

He opened it.

There was already some stuff in there, a huge 2 persons bed , a desk and a huge closet.

 ‘This is your room.’ He said while walking inside.

‘You do need to share your bathroom with me tho.’ He said while walking over to a door.

He walked inside, the bathroom was pretty big, on the counter were all kinds of bottles of Farrah Fawcett Hair spray.

Lilly didn’t mention it.

 ‘All the doors lock, so if you’re in here you can lock my door to, so I won’t just barge in.’ He explained.

‘But I .. euh..’ Steve had his hand behind his head.

 ‘I need to work in like 10 minutes, so I’ll let you be in your new room, and I’ll talk to you tonight okay?’ Steve said making his way towards the door.

 Lilly nodded to him.

And he was gone in a matter of a second.

He was probably late but he didn’t want to be rude.

 This was kind off okay, no hostile stepbrother or well it didn’t seem like it.

Now the biggest challenge was school.

 Lilly went to the top of the stairs, and heard her mother talk about all kinds of things with Mr. Harrington.

Hoping they would be unloading the truck soon.

 She could hear a car starting and backing up.

Lilly looked out of the window and saw Steve driving away with a car.

 She walked back to her room.

And put her headphones on.

*Killer Queen from Queen started playing*

 Lilly threw herself back onto the bed and looked out of the big window that was her new home.

[fizzycherrycola]

EngBel 1860′s

A big thank-you to @maelerie​ for the dialogue prompt, which was: “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

Warnings: Some Victorian attitudes, but not too much

Lions Dancing

Berne, Switzerland; 26 September 1867

Oh, it was so late to be eating, but poor Belgium couldn’t help herself!

Down goes another nibble of camembert, deliciously creamy, but it’s hardly enough. Sighing, she gazes upon the beautiful, yet paltry spread of morsels decorating the buffet table. A few handfuls of fancy cheese, grapes, berries, a bit of bread and butter, salad greens, and an empty tray that used to hold some tiny cakes.

“Where is the proper food?” she moans.

“Did you not eat dinner?” England asks.

Pouting, Belgium wraps her arms around his elbow. “I did, but I’d heard that we were being served food, so I only ate a little.” A flank of roast beef, a bowl of steaming stew, and a good portion of potatoes would be so wonderful right now. Her mouth waters, imagination running wild and not helping her situation at all. Forgetting herself, she leans against England and the wool twill of his evening suit brushes her cheek.

He murmurs a note of affirmation and straightens his posture, resting a gloved hand over hers. It’s warm. She glances up to meet his evergreen eyes, gentle and unsure, before he looks away. Belgium, never one to squander an opportunity, takes in his handsome presentation.

Shortbread blonde hair combed to the side and freshly trimmed, a cluster of freckles across his cheekbones, and a pair of striking brows to crown a visage that is so authentically England. Despite how often she hears her peers sneering at his expense, whispered since he became an empire, she never understood how some could call him hideous. Perhaps standards ought to change, to grant Italy and France a break from being the forever pinnacles of European beauty. Not to minimise their features, of course, but.... Hang on. Is England wearing a scent?

A trio of German states greet them with a bow and Belgium quickly pulls out of her thoughts to return the gesture. When they depart, England’s mouth is twisted into a soft frown.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asks.

“Oh!” Belgium exclaims. “Yes, I would. Do you know where the drinks are?”

“Just over by the antechamber.”

Her delight deflates. The antechamber isn’t far, but the manor is very crowded. Passing through a doorway almost becomes like a queue.  

“All right, let’s get to it.” She begins shuffling between the flocks of visitors when England lightly grasps her arm.

“Oh, I thought...” he fumbles. “If you’re still hungry you can keep eating and I’ll fetch it for you.”

Belgium perks up. “You will?”

England balks. “Of course, I will. It’s only proper for a gentleman to serve his....” He stalls. “To serve the lady in his company. It’s good etiquette. Not that I’d object if you'd prefer to get it yourself, but, erm....”

“I’d like a beer, please,” she says with a smile. “And if they don’t have it, I wouldn’t be daunted by something stronger.”

Nodding, he takes his leave, and Belgium takes a moment to admire his retreating form. Once he’s out of sight, she places a few berries in her napkin and watches the dancing.

A cluster of people are twirling in tune to a string quartet, filling the room’s centre with big skirts and bare shoulders, an array of colours and patterns from across Europe and the Ottoman Empire. The dances are, thankfully, very simple and well-known, not like the ridiculous leaping shows that leave her exhausted and wanting to toss her Pinet boots into a river. Tonight will be long, as most balls often are, with gas lamps burning away the darkness and ceiling chandeliers twinkling like stars. With a dash of luck, and providing she play her cards right, the evening might also be, dare she hope, a passionate one.

Gnawing her lip between bites of a strawberry, Belgium weighs her options. Might there be a secluded corner in this castle-turned-manor? Surely there’s at least one. If so, she should find it before Bohemia drags her into an endless train of gossip.

“Belgium, is that you?”

No! But wait, that isn’t Bohemia’s voice. Squeezing past the audience circle comes a young face that makes Belgium’s heart soar.

“Lux!” she cries. Immediately reaching out, she wraps her younger brother in a warm hug, ignoring his groan of protest. “I had no idea you were coming. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was a last-minute decision,” Luxembourg admits. He feels thin, under his dainty frockcoat, but he’s always been rather scrawny. “When I saw Ned packing his suitcase for the trip, I suddenly wanted to join in. I can’t say what came over me.”

She plants a kiss on his buttermilk hair and they part. “Well, I’m so glad you did! It’s good to see you.”

He smiles, all tired eyes and pale skin. “You as well.”

“Oh, Lux. You still look weary; haven’t you been sleeping?”

Luxembourg sighs, small shoulders heavy with stress. “I’m better than I was a few months ago. Readjusting to a normal life has taken longer than I’d hoped. I’m not ashamed to admit that France and Prussia gave me quite a scare. For a while, I even thought that....”

“I know.” He need not say it; everyone feared that there might have been a war. “But in the end, everything sorted itself out. You needn’t worry about them anymore; you’re safe now.”

“You’re right.” He offers a shrug and a flimsy grin that betrays he may not believe his own words.  

What a messy affair it was. It’d be false to say that she held no resentment towards Netherlands for his part in the disaster. But truthfully, in a world of sprawling empires, any step taken has the potential for friction or crisis. “Don’t push yourself too hard,” she adds. “And if you ever need anything at all, you can always call on me. That’s what big sisters are for.”

Luxembourg quirks an eyebrow. “Anything at all?”

“Anything.”

“Then, how about a dance?”

Her chest glows and she beams at him. “Lux! What a nice request; when did you become so sweet? Well, I’d love to, but at the moment, I’m waiting for England to return.”

“Ah, right. You have to dance with your beloved first.”

Belgium’s jaw drops. “What?”

Her brother laughs, a high, healthy sound. “Oh, come on. You can’t pretend it isn’t obvious. Everyone sees how you longingly gaze at each other.”

Heat blooms under her cheeks and she flicks him. “Hush, you! Don't poke fun at me.”

Luxembourg, the menace, is still grinning. “Impossible. As your brother, it’s my job to poke fun at you.”

She sighs. “Always with the japes.”

“I hope I'm not interrupting,” says England, and Belgium is thrown off-balance.

He blinks, glancing curiously between the siblings with two brandies in hand.  

“England,” Luxembourg greets. “It’s good to see you again.”  

“Luxembourg,” England says with a short nod. “The pleasure is mine.”  

“We were just discussing japes.”

“Is that so?”

Belgium accepts her glass and has a hearty swig.

“Yes,” Luxembourg continues. “But actually, now that you’re here, there’s something I’d like to say.”

England tilts his head and Belgium tenses, casting a look at her brother. Before she can interject, Luxembourg performs a bow. “Thank you for your assistance. I didn’t have the chance to express my gratitude in London, some months ago, but I was, and still am, deeply appreciative of what you did for myself and my people.”

Surprise holds her breath for a moment, before relief floods down her neck, and she muffles an exhale around her glass.

Brows raised, England pauses. “Oh. Well, I can't take all the credit. The conference was held at Russia’s suggestion.”  

“You did host it, though. And you helped the discussions along.”

A spark seems to light in England and he grins, chest swelling. “Hmm, I suppose that’s true,” he hums. “However, I was perfectly satisfied to play host if it meant avoiding an unnecessary war. Another squabble is the last thing Europe needs and such a thing might've put you and your sister in harm’s way and I couldn’t allow....” His words peter out as realisation dawns on his face. Belatedly, he turns away to cough. “Think nothing of it.”

His unfinished statement doesn’t go unnoticed, and like a cup of sorbet in summer, Belgium melts. Admittedly, it was some time before she learned to see past England’s mask, how he hides deeper emotions behind pleasantries. Far from being a bother, the display is... strangely endearing. A tough exterior covering a soft centre; a toasty crème brûlée.  

Blast, now she’s gone and made herself hungry again.

Luxembourg smirks. “I think I’ll have one of those brandies,” he says, pointing to the doorway. “The drinks are in the antechamber, right?”  

Belgium flinches. “You’re leaving?”

“Just to get a drink.” He casually bumps her elbow. “I’ll be nearby.”

Instinctively, she squeezes his hand. “All right, then. I’ll catch up with you soon. Don’t let Ned leave early.”

Luxembourg chuckles. “I won’t, I promise. Enjoy the ball, Belgium.”

He departs, stalwart and skinny, too young and too mature. But just as he’s slipping between a set of packed tables, cluttered with empty plates and lounging patrons, a thought strikes her.  

“Ah, Lux,” she calls. “By the way, if you see Switzerland, could you kindly ask if he has a little more food?”

He rolls his eyes, and with a wave, Luxembourg disappears into the crowd.

Belgium feels a gaze on her, ticklish on the hairs of her neck, and she glances at England. He looks away, nursing his booze, while the background din of ballroom chatter prevents total silence from settling in. Swirling her amber elixir, catching reflections of the hall, the dancing pairs, and his profile rippling around the rim of her glass, she fidgets. It’s suddenly very hot in this elegant manor.  

What should she do? They’ve been dancing around this, whatever it may be, for too long. So many balls behind them, waltzes, galops, and polkas, but only fair goodbyes at the end of each night. Well, enough is enough. No more nonsense!

She drains her cup, burning honey and liquid confidence down her throat, preparing to do something wildly improper: to ask him to dance. It shouldn’t cause too much of a scandal, should it? And if it does, it’ll certainly be overshadowed by the gossip surrounding Hungary and her decision to wear trousers this evening.  

But England speaks up first. “May I have the next dance?”

Belgium blinks. “You may,” she says, wind taken out of her sails.

Immediately, England finishes his drink, necktie and collar bobbing as he swallows. He takes her palm and, at the dwindling of the string quartet, coupled with mild applause, they head to the floor.

There is a pause, then a cello croons and a waltz begins. They dance, as they have many times before, to the charming serenade of singing violins. And England is definitely wearing a scent; cedar wood folded in with a wash of lavender and other enchanting florals that transport Belgium to a glasshouse garden kept tidy and warm.

“You know,” she comments, “I believe you used to hate dancing.”

“That was true about a century ago,” he says on the turn.

“What’s changed in that time?”

“I suppose, the circumstances of the activity.”

They weave between couples, spinning through blurs of satin and taffeta. She stays closer to him than the steps require, thankful that she ditched her old hoop skirt in favour of a slim crinolette.  

“England?” Belgium murmurs, a swarm of butterflies in her belly.

“Yes?”

“I also wanted to thank you for how you helped my brother.”

His hand tightens around her palm. “...Of course.”

“You didn’t need to intervene, but you did, and I truly appreciate it.”

“Please, think nothing of it.”

She smiles. “How can I? It’s not just the courtesy you’ve shown him. You’re always kind to me as well.”

England’s brows arch a little, then smooth out. He doesn’t reply at first, but then his chest rises in a quiet breath.

“Always is a very long time.”

Belgium giggles. “You’re right. For us, ‘always’ is a very long time.” She considers this as he slides her into a twirl, away and back. “But lately, I think you have. Am I wrong?”

A spin, and she returns to his hold, near enough to hear him whisper. “...Perhaps, lately.”

These decades are strange, when words are so restricted and emotions must be revealed so carefully. In some ways, it’s easy to become caught up in social customs, the limiting formalities that change with time. He was more open when he was younger; they both were.

“Lately, I’ve... I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” She averts her gaze, throat suddenly tight as she dips into uncharted waters. “Tonight, and other nights, you’ve gone out of your way to ensure it appears accidental. But I don’t mean to accuse you of any wrongdoing, because you haven’t done anything wrong at all, it’s only that... I’ve sometimes wondered if... if you harbour any feelings for me.”

His steps falter, timing off, until he corrects it. “Harbour feelings?”

Her fingers tense, curling over his shoulder. “Am I mistaken?” She swallows, her words only a whisper louder than the song. “If I am, please tell me. I’ve no desire to be foolish. Please, tell me and I won’t bring it up again. I swear.” But she isn’t wrong, she’s sure she isn’t wrong.

England says nothing. The string instruments slow and hush. Belgium’s heart is hammering as their bodies still and the music ends, applause swelling up from the onlookers. Face warm, she glances up, hiding behind her lashes, and he’s staring back – openly, with gorgeous, hair-raising seriousness. His eyes dart over her, searching, and she trembles, a tremor that begins in her lips and ripples down into her chest.  

Gently, England’s hand presses on her back and the shiver quiets. She leans impossibly closer to him, their torsos flush, and--

“Belgium!”

Belgium jumps with a squeak.  

The voice calls her again and she wildly scans the room. From the audience circle, it’s Lux, waving like an idiot. “Sorry!” he shouts, pointing to the buffet. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but more food has been brought out.”

“O-Oh,” Belgium mumbles. She hesitates, utterly lost, looking between her brother and England.

“They have potatoes and lamb!”  

“Yes! Thank you, Lux! I’ll be right there.”  

Belgium moans. He did that on purpose, the menace! And even if he didn’t, what does it matter? The moment is ruined!  

Shoulders high and tight, she steps back, wishing for the immaculate, cherry-wood floor to swallow her whole. When it doesn’t, she forces a painful smile. “I’m sorry, that was too bold, wasn’t it? You don’t need to answer. Just um... forget I said anything.” Fizzling with anxiety, she tugs England by the wrist and nods to the buffet. “I should’ve had more food before downing that brandy! That was silly of me. Um... why don’t we get something to eat?”  

Her pull meets resistance, though. England is rooted to the spot, mouth shaping around silent syllables, as if trying to find the right words.  

“Occasionally, I suppose you might be bold, but... I wouldn’t think to call you foolish.” He shifts, taking her hand, a gloved thumb brushing over her knuckles.

Belgium halts, mind stuck like a broken carriage wheel, and there’s a touch of pink to England’s cheeks, his expression painted with worry. It’s another second or two before the wheel clicks together.  

“Oh,” she breathes. “Then, you...?” England’s lips thin and the colour spills across the rest of his face. Belgium buckles. Her body, dress and all, vacates the earth and is replaced by fluffy, hand-spun clouds. She’s floating, adrift in dreamland and over the moon. “Food... we should... before it’s gone.”

England clears his throat. “Right, yes.”

“And then, um... would you mind if we found somewhere quieter to eat?”

“If you’d prefer.”

She rushes closer. “But would you like to?”

He balks, eyes as wide as saucers, rouge creeping down his neck. “I wouldn’t mind. Um, yes. We could... certainly do that.”

A full-body tingle soars to Belgium’s ears and she wraps both arms around his elbow, feeling very much like a tangled-up yarn ball of a thousand happy feelings. And slightly parched. They should get drinks to pair with their food.

They lean together, shuffling at a snail’s pace to the buffet, ignorant to the rest of the ballroom, and not taking their eyes off one another for quite a long time.

End / Fin

~~~

Author’s Notes

The Luxembourg Crisis was a diplomatic dispute in 1867 between France and Prussia over the political status of Luxembourg. The confrontation almost led to war between the two parties, but was peacefully resolved by the Treaty of London. The UK was happy to host the talks as they feared that the absorption of Luxembourg by either power would weaken Belgium, its strategic ally on the continent.

It’s an obscure canon Hetalia fact that Luxembourg likes to prank his sister.

Pinet boots were a specific style of high-heeled shoes that were popular in the 1860s.

Trousers on women? Yes! Some women did wear them back then, but it was very rare. And any women who did, were absolutely doing it as a fashion statement against restrictive hoop skirts.

The crinolette was a transitional garment bridging the gap between the cage crinoline (hoop skirt) and the bustle. It was fashionable from 1867 through to the mid-1870s.

Victorian attitudes on romance were exhausting. Expressing interest in someone, if done improperly, could get you labelled as a devilish flirt with “poor morals”. And women weren’t permitted to make the first move, as Belgium does when she asks if England likes her. She’s being very bold, but you know what? Good for her!

Did you know? Belgium and England share the lion as their national animals. With that in mind, I chose to imagine a pair of lions dancing when writing this story. Hence, the title.

[aphroditepeter]

Pity Party - Starker

First post I guess <3

I suddenly remember reading this one fanfiction called 'Pity Party' a few years ago where the main character has Peter Pan Syndrome and he was throwing his birthday party but no one came and I immediately thought of Starker.

Please bear with me, I wrote this at 2 a.m. instead of sleeping so I am sorry if there are any mistakes.

Tags: Mentions of bullying, Feminine!Peter, Older!Tony, Dark!Tony, Underage, Whump, Age differences, Implied non-con, etc.

So feminine Peter has Peter Pan Syndrome and he is super excited to have his 16th birthday party.

A few days ago before his birthday, he already gave almost everyone he knows at school the invitation cards to his party, including his bullies, Quentin Beck, and his asshole friends who keep on harassing him mentally and physically. But, Peter being the sweetheart he is, doesn’t mind the bullying and instead has a crush on Quentin.

He knew that it is the wrong thing to do to invite them but then again, he thought that maybe they will not bully him anymore once they have come to his house and saw how amazing his birthday party is. Plus, naïve Peter thought that maybe, just maybe, Quentin will realize that Peter is not that bad after all despite him being different and he might fall in love with Peter just like the way Peter did.

Due to his excitement, Peter planned the most perfect birthday party he has ever done throughout his whole life.

He already picked all the birthday balloons, chosen a strawberry-flavored birthday cake (his favorite), and put on pink banners everywhere. Literally, everything you need for a birthday party.

He even picked his own birthday outfit, consisting of a pink sweater with a white mini pleated skirt and white knee-high socks that just scream cuteness.

Aunt May did help him to put a little bit of makeup on his face, making him look even prettier than he usually does that even Peter himself keeps on blushing when thinking of what Quentin will think of him later when he and the others arrive.

Since Aunt May has to go to work until late at night, she can’t join him and only wished him a happy birthday before she goes to work. Nonetheless, Peter is still in a happy mood as he waits for his guests to appear so that Peter can celebrate his birthday for the very first time with other people besides his aunt.

He waits and waits and waits. An hour begins to pass. Then two hours, before three to four hours pass and Peter falls asleep due to being tired of waiting.

When Peter wakes up, he realizes that it is almost night and not a single person has made an appearance outside his house or even knock on the door to surprise him.

Feeling sad, Peter cries so hard that he starts hitting himself repeatedly. He blames himself for thinking so gullible that people will come to his birthday party when he should have noticed the look on their faces when he gave them their invitation cards. Nothing but shame and disgust were shown on their faces.

He should also blame himself for thinking that Quentin will arrive here and spend time with him when he knows that Quentin and his friends might be having fun somewhere else while laughing at Peter’s naiveness and stupidity.

Peter thinks that he is at fault. Maybe it is because of his childish behaviors that are different and unlike any normal teenager at his school. And maybe it is because the way he dresses up is too feminine and how he loves to wear pastel outfits, especially pink ones.

Peter is about to go to his room and forget about everything that has been happening when he suddenly hears a knock on the door. 

Feeling relieved, Peter wipes his tears and runs towards the door. Probably thinking that someone he knows, his aunt, or even Quentin, has finally come to celebrate his birthday.

Surprisingly, when he opens the door, a man who is much older than him is standing in front of his door with a smile on his face. 

He looks like he is in his late 30s or early 40s but Peter admits that he is handsome. But he shouldn’t think of that. He only likes Quentin! 

The man calls himself Tony Stark. He tells Peter that he is one of the people that live in Peter’s neighborhood and he decided to go visit him when he heard Peter is throwing a birthday party.

Peter feels uneasy as he has never seen Tony around the neighborhood as long as he has lived here. He quickly remembers his aunt’s bits of advice of not letting strangers talk to him or letting them enter the house without his aunt’s permission. 

Yet, after Tony convinces him that he is one of the neighbors here and he looks nice (not to mention Peter wants at least one person to hang out with him during his birthday), Peter decides to let Tony inside.

Because someone is willing to spend time with Peter, Peter’s mood has become better. He happily tells Tony about his birthday cake and goes to the kitchen to show Tony where he put his cake so he can have a little taste.

What Peter doesn’t realize is that Tony has locked the door. And he is standing behind Peter with a dark look on his face.

Let’s just say, Tony prefers to taste something or someone that is much sweeter than the birthday cake.

[todorokiwhore]

Impatient

Pairing: female!reader x Todoroki Shouto

Contents: Aged up, alcohol, semi-public sex, safe sex, orgasm denial (just a little), mirror sex

Word count: 1,935

Impatient Collab Masterlist hosted by @ultimate-astridwriting

A/N: I like to think Shouto gains some confidence and teases in relationships when he gets older. Also this is the first fic I’ve written in a long while but i hope y’all like it~

'I'm surprised there's so many people here,' you muse to yourself. When Mina invited you to a party at Katsuki's house, you had half expected it to just be your old classmates from UA. There were enough people here that you two opted to stand near one of the open windows, the breeze nice and cool.

Mina pushes another drink into your hand, yelling to be heard over the music, "Y/N, where's Ochako? I haven't seen her all night!" You're about to answer when you feel someone lean in close behind you. You turn to see Shouto, his hair tickling your cheek as he says back, "With Midoriya, obviously," and points by the door to the kitchen.

Seeing Izuku and Ochako practically down each other's throats, leaning against the doorframe without a care of where they were, made you suddenly aware of Shouto's body close behind you. As he rests his chin on your shoulder, out of the corner of your eye, you can see his one grey eye looking at you, his arms circling your waist. “What’s wrong, babe?” he says right in your ear, his cool breath tickling your neck. 

"Shou! When did you get here?" You turn in his hold to meet his mismatched eyes, giving him a kiss in greeting.

"Just got here with Iida," he murmurs against your lips. He leans back a bit to look you up and down, then smiles, "You look beautiful." You feel your cheeks heat up as you smooth your hands down your favorite skirt, "T-Thank you." You take a second to look him over and you have to swallow thickly. 'Holy shit.'

He's wearing the dark blue button up shirt you adore, the first few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Paired with his white dress pants and his messy red and white hair, he looks breathtaking. Shouto smirks at your reaction as he excuses himself to go get a drink.

Mina nudges your shoulder gently, "Go with him, Y/N. A man that good looking, you probably shouldn't leave him by himself." You shook your head at your friend with a smile, downed the rest of your drink, and went after him anyway.

You caught up to him at the stairs, took his hand and pouted, "Hey, you didn't give me a chance to compliment you back."  He smiles back at you and cocks his head, "But I already know what you'd say." He turns and pulls you against him, lips a breath away from touching your ear.

Shouto brushes his lips against the hollow beneath your ear, making you shiver, "I know you love this shirt on me, especially when you're completely naked while i have all my clothes on, fucking you silly until all you can think about is me."

You press your lips to his for the first time tonight, the warmth in your body making you seek him out desperately. Your hands clutch the front of his shirt as you moan into his mouth, holding him to you as close as you can. One hand drops to tug his shirt free from his pants, and you run your fingers over the revealed skin above his pantline. You whine needily into his mouth, "Shou...please fuck me..."

Shouto leans back slightly, eyes widened in surprise, "Really? You wanna have sex... here? Now??" You nod and press yourself to his front, "Yes. Now." He stays quiet for a few seconds, you feel his head move from one side to the other, then he takes hold of your hand and you both move through the party to the other side of the staircase where the downstairs bathroom is.

As soon as he closes the door and locks it, you turn him around to press his back against the door and latch onto his collarbone peeking out from behind his shirt. Shouto closes his eyes and leans his head back to the door as you move to his neck, pressing kisses into his skin. "Y/N, wait," he groans and gently pushes you back a step. He continues walking you back until he suddenly lifts you onto the counter, bringing his hand up to brush your cheek gently.

"I want to eat you out first, but you have to be quiet. Can you be a good girl for me?" You bite your lip and nod, leaning back onto your hands. You watch Shouto sink to the floor in front of you, his hands tracing the skin of your thighs. His hands part your thighs a little more and he lightly runs his fingertip over the damp spot on your panties teasingly. Shouto smirks as you whine and squirm, pressing a little harder where he knows your clit is. His eyes flick up to your face, his smile going soft, "Beautiful..."

He takes pity on you and finally slips his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down off your legs and stuffing them in his pocket. Then he leans in, licking a fat stripe up your pussy that makes you moan and clench your fists. He tuts lowly, shaking his head, "You have to be quiet, my love. There are people on the other side of the door. You don't want them to hear the pretty noises you make for me, do you?" You pant and swallow, relaxing your hands, "No, I don't....keep going please."

Shouto smiles and murmurs, "Good girl," before he focuses on your clit, rubbing wide circles around it with his tongue. He feels your thighs tense on either side of his head when he sucks the sensitive nub, your lower lip caught in between your teeth to stop yourself from crying out. As he alternates rubbing circles around and on your clit, you feel the heat in your belly building, rapidly approaching the edge of your orgasm. You clench your fists and let out a high-pitched, "Fuck..."

Just as you think you're about to fall, Shouto leans back away from you, making you whine in protest. You open your eyes to see him stand up, wipe his mouth with the back of his hand before he reaches out to kiss you hard, the taste of your wetness in his mouth. He groans and rests his hands on your hips as you reach up to thread your fingers into his dual colored hair. You break the kiss to breathe, resting your forehead against his for a few moments.

"Y/N, bend over for me," he says against your lips, giving you one more kiss before he steps back, hands undoing the buttons on his shirt. As the shirt comes open, you see fading hickeys that you've left other times across his torso. Your mouth waters and you lean forward to kiss just under his collarbone, running your hands up his chest. You feel Shouto's chest rumble as he chuckles, gently turning you in his arms.

You lean forward, resting your hands on the counter and you hear Shouto fumbling with his belt buckle. You lift the end of your skirt up higher and you see Shouto in the mirror behind you, his eyes staring at your ass intensely. You shift a little, uncomfortable, "What?" He gently caresses your ass, then leans forward to press kisses to your neck. He nuzzles the nape of your hair, inhaling the smell of you, "Nothing, you're just…. beautiful."

Your cheeks heat up and you feel the blunt head of Shouto's cock rub up and down your slit. You close your eyes to revel in the feeling, but when the head slips in just a bit, your hand flies to his chest to keep him from going further.

"Wait! Shou, do you…"

"Yes, right here," he interrupts, answering your unfinished question by waving a foil packet at you in the mirror. He takes a second to put the condom on, then he takes one of your legs and puts your knee on the counter, pushing slightly on your lower back. You feel his cockhead at your entrance again, but this time he pushes into you slowly, letting you enjoy the feeling of your pussy stretching around him. You let out the breathiest of moans and watch his face in the mirror, the fucked out expression on his face making you clench around him.

He groans, pulls back a little and thrusts in more, bottoming out against your ass. "Fuck, you always take me so well baby," he says with clenched teeth, holding himself still. A couple of moments go by before you press yourself backward with a whine, urging him to fuck you. He complies and sets a steady rhythm, the drag of his cock inside you makes your eyes roll back into your head. Shouto moves your hair to the side and presses kisses on your neck and shoulder, the sensation making you mewl. He shifts his hips and the change in angle forces you to bite your lip or you'll let out a loud moan. 

He takes hold of your shoulders and holds your body upright against his, the new position making him brush that spot inside that makes you see stars. You gasp and he covers your mouth with his hand, the other one snaking under your top and bra to tweak a nipple. He thrusts into you harder and you watch your body in the mirror move along with him, completely at his mercy. He lets out a deep, low moan right in your ear as his thrusts get faster, desperately chasing his orgasm.

The simmering in your belly built up fast again from being denied already, you were almost there. His hand came out from under your shirt to tug the neckline to one side, leaving room for his teeth to sink into your skin painfully. This made the fragile coil in your stomach snap, sending you tumbling into the high of your orgasm. Shouto fought to keep thrusting into your spasming heat two, three times before he ground his hips into you, emptying himself into the condom.

You leaned your head back onto his shoulder, trying to catch your breath. You could feel him trembling, or was it you (?), so you rubbed small circles with your thumb on his forearm that was still holding you to him.

"You okay, baby?" you ask as you kiss the edge of his jaw. Shouto lets out an airy laugh and kisses you back lazily, "Yeah, yeah, I'm good." He finally peels himself off you, helps to steady you and throws away the condom as you fix your clothes. As you're smoothing down your hair, you see him looking at you fondly by his reflection. You turn and help him button up his shirt, "Y'know, you probably shouldn't wear this shirt to parties with me. I already associate it with sex, it'd just distract me and make me want to do this in maybe less ideal places."

"Less ideal than Bakugo and Midoriya's house?" Shouto asks with a quirk of his eyebrow. "Besides, I kind of like riling you up, maybe next time…" he pauses and claims your lips in an intense kiss that makes your head spin. He pulls back to let you meet his heterochromatic eyes, a thumb grazing over your cheek, "...I'll just let you pine for me. Leave you wanting. How does that sound?"

Your face flushes and you try to formulate a response, but nothing comes out. He chuckles at you and takes you by the hand, heading back out into the party.

[bakuhoes-slut234]

Bakugou x reader smut - Meeting His Parents

A/N: Readers quirk is Electricity. Her quirk is very much like Denki's, except much weaker. Reader is in UA but in the Support Class.

_______________________________________________

"Y/N! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" Katsuki shouted from the bottom of the dorm stairs of the support class.

"HOLD YOUR FUCKING HORSES! IM ALMOST DONE!" She shouted back.

Today, Katsuki was introducing Y/N to his parents. They don't even know that he has a girlfriend yet. He just told them that he's bringing a friend over for dinner.

Y/N made her way down the stairs, smiling at how handsome her angry floof looked.

He was wearing black skinny jeans and a dark blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and sneakers.

Y/N wore a dark blue skirt that reached her mid-thigh and a white cross-over crop top, along with a pair of black heels.

Bakugou looked up at the sound of footsteps and almost died. In his eyes, she looked absolutely breathtaking, not that he'd ever admit it to her or anyone else.

"Fina-fucking-ly" he grumbled

"Let's go Kat, I can't wait to meet your parents!" She beamed and held onto his arm.

They walked out of the dorms and in the direction of his house. They chose to walk since he lived nearby.

They stopped infront of an average looking house.

Bakugou walked up to the door and unlocked it with his spare keys and gestured for her to come in.

They got inside and took off their shoes. Bakugou put on his house slippers that were by the door and Y/N pulled her own ones from her handbag and put them on.

"WE'RE HERE!" He shouted, making Y/N winced at the volume before putting on her best smile.

A woman with spikey blonde hair and red eyes ran to the door with a scowl on her face.

"HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO SHOU-" she cut herself off as she noticed Y/N. "Hi there, you must be Katsuki's friend. You're so pretty!"

"Um... Actually... I'm his girlfriend. My name's Y/N L/N but you can call me Y/N" she smiled

She looked between Y/N and Katsuki and frowned.

"You deserve so much better, you know that?" She said bluntly.

Y/N's smile faulted as the blonde woman said that.

"What the fuck you old hag!? You can't talk to my girlfriend like that!" He shouted

"I was talking to her. Y/N sweety, you can do so much better than this gremlin child." She said, making Y/N laugh.

"I think I'll stay with this gremlin thanks"

"You better fucking stay with me" Bakugou grumbled.

"Well, at least someone will deal with his shit. Thank you. You can call me Mistuki"

"Nice to meet you"

"Move you fucking hag, we've been standing at the door forever" Katsuki growled.

"Don't talk to your mother like that!" Y/N swatted his arm, earning a glare from the boy.

Mistuki showed them to the table, where the food was already set up and ready to eat. Y/N was introduced to Katsuki's dad and then they all sat down to eat.

The whole time, Mitsuki told Y/N about all of the stories from when Katsuki was a small child and after dinner, showed Y/N his baby pictures.

~

"Thank you for the lovely dinner Mistuki" Y/N smiled.

"It's no problem dear. It's the weekend Tommorow, correct?" She asked.

"Yeah"

"Good. You and Katsuki are staying the night then. Contact your parents to let them know, or whoever needed and then Katsuki will show you to his old room" she smiled.

"Thank you"

Y/N stood up and pulled out her phone, telling her parents that she's staying at a friend's house.

Afterwards, she went to locate her gremlin and found that he had just finished washing dishes.

"You done?" He asked and Y/N nodded.

He wiped his hands dry and then grabbed hers, dragging her down the hall.

Katsuki opened a door and motioned for her to go in first.

The room was simple, a double bed, a lot of hand posters, action figures and some clothes laying on his desk. But other than the clothes on the desk, his room was extremely clean.

Y/N walked in and day down on his bed, just looking around his room in awe.

"Here you go fuck face" he said and threw some clothes at her.

She thanked him with a kiss on the cheek and a hug.

Y/N set the clothes down onto his bed and started to pull off her shirt, but was stopped.

"Oi! What the fuck are you doing!?" He said

"What does it look like? I'm getting changed" she snapped at him

"You can't do that here! I'm still in the room!"

"It doesn't matter, we're dating and I'm not shy about my body." She said and pulled her shirt off.

She looked up to see Bakugou red faced and looking away to try and hide his blush, or give her some type of privacy, she couldn't really tell.

She was about to laugh at his red face until she took in his whole body.

He muscles were tensed, face red and looking to the side, and Y/N noticed his pants starting to tent.

She bit her lip, thinking up either a really good or really bad idea, we'll find out which one it is soon.

She slipped off the rest of her clothes, leaving on just her bra and panties.

She walked up to him, going unnoticed since he was looking away.

She placed both of her hands on his shoulders, getting his attention.

He turned to look at her and blushed, feeling his pants get tighter.

"W-what the hell?" He asked

"Let's have some fun" she suggested and pressed her hips against his.

Bakugou groaned but pushed her away gently.

Y/N frowned and stepped closer again, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He tried to look away from her again but she grabbed his chin with her thumb and index finger, forcing him to look at her.

She closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his and hummed.

His hands found her waist and squeezed gently.

He swiped his tongue over her lower lip, asking for access, which she gave him.

Their tongues fought for dominance and surprisingly, Y/N won.

Her hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, quickly undoing them. He shrugged his shirt off as her hands got busy with the button and zipper of his pants. She quickly undid them and then broke the kiss.

She slowly moved down his body, letting her fingers graze over his toned chest and abs on her way down until she was on her knees.

She tugged on his pants, silently asking if she could remove them, to which he nodded.

Y/N quickly pulled down both his pants and boxers at the same time, releasing him from the restricting material.

She stared at the size of him, blushing profusely.

"Oi! Don't just stare" he growled, but not angrily, but more needy.

"Sorry" she said and gently wrapped her hand around his base.

She slowly pumped him, watching how he reacts.

His head rolls back as he released something that sounds like a groan and a sigh.

With a little more confidence, she let's go of him for a moment, and moved him so that he's sitting on the edge of his bed.

She sits on the floor between his legs and wraps her hand around him again, this time pumping a little faster and setting a steady pace.

Bakugou groaned and growls as Y/N speeds up her hand movements.

Suddenly, she gets an idea.

"Hey babe?" She said and he hummed in response.

"Can I use my quirk?" She asked.

He looked down at her, fear filling his eyes.

"Don't worry, I won't use it very much, I just want to try something" she explained.

Bakugou hesitantly agreed with a nod of his head.

Y/N smirked but wanted to do it when he least expected it.

She licked his tips before taking into her mouth, making him groan at the new feeling.

She swirled her tongue around him and bobbed her head on his length.

This continued for a few minutes until Y/N finally thought it was time.

She pulled him out of her mouth, making him whine and instead, gently brushed her fingers over his length.

She activated her quirk, using a tiny amount of electricity.

She sent small zaps onto him.

His hands flew into her hair, gripping tightly as he let out a moan.

Y/N took him back into her mouth, satisfied with his reaction.

She wrapped her hand around the part that would fit in her mouth and stocking him, using her quirk.

Bakugou's moans got louder and louder. His grip on her hair, painful but nothing she couldn't tolerate.

"I'm close" he moaned out.

Y/N felt him twitch in her mouth.

She let go of him and forced herself to take in his entire length.

He groaned loudly, telling her that he was almost there.

She placed a single finger, right at the base of his cock and activated her quirk, quite a lot stronger than before, but not enough to hurt him.

He gasped at the initial contact.

Y/N slowly started to pull off of him. As her mouth slowly moved off of his length, her finger traced from base to tip.

"Fuck~!" He growled loudly as he came.

Y/N made sure to keep her mouth over his tip as she let him release into her mouth.

His body shook as he reached his climax, his breath ragged, body glistening with swear and face flushed.

She swallowed the load she was given when he finally stilled and then removed him completely from her mouth.

She deactivated her quirk and then got to her feet.

Bakugou looked at her with lidded eyes, still panting.

She sat down on his leg, careful not to touch his member, knowing that he's sensitive right now.

She placed a peck on his lips and handed him his boxers.

She got up and put on his shirt that he gave to her earlier while he put on his boxers.

"W-wait" he said as she lay down on the bed

"Yeah?"

"Don't you want me to return the favour?" He asked

"Babe, I did that because I wanted to, you don't have to do it for me. Plus, seeing your face contorted in pleasure like that was enough for me" she said and went under the blanket.

"You sure?"

"Aw, you're so soft after you cum. That's cute. Normally you'd be swearing at me by now" she teased. Bakugou didn't even have enough energy to glare at her.

She patted the spot on the bed next to her

"Come on, let's go to bed"

He lay down and placed his head on her stomach, instantly falling asleep.

Y/N laughed to herself and kissed his head before dozing off.

[animensfw-smut]

Dirty minded! Shinso x Bad girl! Innocent! Reader

Reader's quirk: Telekinesis.

Reader and Shinso have known each other since the start of the year. Also, when doing innocent readers, I'm gonna write the lemon part mostly in third pov because it's easier.

WARNINGS: NSFW, 18+, Quirk play

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

*(y/n)'s pov*

I sighed gazing up at the (whatever colour ceiling you think Shinso has) ceiling. My blouse, like normal, had the top button undone, my tie loosened and my blazer on the floor.

"You gonna do your homework or not?" I rolled my eyes, looking at Shinso,

"Do i look like the type of person who does the homework?" It was his turn to sigh,

"I don't even know how you got into the hero course..." A smirk crept up my face,

"Envy me Shinso~" He rolled his eyes,

"Shut up. Don't you need to get changed? I don't want your school clothes dirtying my bed."

"Mm." I got up and walked to his drawers, getting out one of his t-shirts and one of his boxers.

"Yeah, yeah, make yourself at home and steal my clothes to wear again. Why do you never bring your own clothes when i invite you over?"

"Maybe because your clothes are more comfortable. Now get out for a minute." Shinso shook his head before walking out of his room.  

I removed my skirt and unbuttoned my blouse, about to change into the shirt when the door opened and Shinso walked in. I gave him a glare,

"Hey!" Shinso gave a lazy smirk,

"It's been a minute." I pouted,

"I hate you." Then, my movements stopped. Damn, he used his quirk. He walked towards me, and i used my telekinesis to whack a notebook at the back of his head.

"Ouch..." Inwardly, i giggled, 'Ha serves you right.' I used the pen to poke myself hardly, causing me to snap out of the daze.

"Shinso, you bastarrrdddd!" I yelled, lunging at him. I threw myself on him , tackling him to the bed. He flipped us over,

"I don't think i like the idea of you topping." Shinso lowered his mouth to my ear,

"I want to destroy you~" He whispered.

"Eh?! Come on then! Fight me here and now, I'm gonna win!" (Alright, reader actually gives me Inosuke vibes here...) Shinso chuckled, shaking his head,

"I'll show you a new form of fighting."  

*Third pov*

His soft lips connected with (y/n)'s lips. (y/n) took it as a challenge when Shinso bit her lip and entered her mouth.  

"Mm...!" Her tongue battled against his, not willing to give him the satisfaction of winning. Parting from the kiss, Shinso reached behind her to unhook her bra, cupping her breasts and fondling with them. (y/n) moaned, her hands gripping the bedsheets,

"W-What are you d-doing?" Shinso smirked,

"You're losing the battle here (y/n)~" One of his hands palmed her crotch, the dampness of her panties making Shinso groan,

"Damn, you're so wet..." His fingers prodded her entrance through the fabric before moving her panties to the side. He sunk his fingers into her heat, his dark purple eyes focusing on the way her cunt tightened around his fingers.  

"Sh-Shinso..." Her eyes closed when he dipped his tongue inside her. Shinso's tongue thrusted inside her, his fingers pushing into her at the same time. (y/n)'s hips involuntarily ground against Shinso's mouth, wanting to feel more of the pleasure. He curled his fingers, and she released, her mind blank. Slurping noises filled the room as Shinso sucked her pussy,

"A-Ah, n-no more, Sh-Shinso...! I-It feels s-so weird..." (y/n) panted. She tried to even out her breathing, but Shinso had taken off his clothes, the tip of his cock leaking precum.

"(y/n)~ We'll see who's better at fighting in bed~"  

"O-Obviously me!" Shinso slid his cock inside of her, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"Fuck... You feel so good around my cock..." With each thrust, the headboard hit the wall, and (y/n)'s breasts bounced. He lowered his mouth to her breast, taking a nipple into his mouth. (y/n) gripped his purple hair, her hips bucking.

*(y/n)'s pov*

This feels so good... But i can't let him take advantage in this fight!

I let out a breathy moan, wrapping my legs tighter around his waist. With my hands pushing on his shoulders, i flipped us over, straddling him.

"I-I'm gonna win!!!" I declared, bouncing on his member. Shinso let out a chuckle, admiring the way my breasts would move whenever i bounced on him,

"I don't mind the view~" His hands gripped my hips with force,

"But I'm the one who's on top." He flipped us over again, ramming into me. His thick cock rubbed the right spots inside of me.

My nails dug into his arms, my back arching,

"Sh-Shinso...!" I whimpered. Skin slapping against skin was all that reached my ear, his heavy breathing making my mind go blank. I wasn't able to form coherent words, my moans covering them. Shinso towered over me, his hands on either side of my head, caging me. His hips thrusted up, his length slamming into me.

"I-It's so f-full..." My eyes rolled to the back of my head at the feeling. His thrusts sped up and i released a clear liquid. He pulled out, releasing all over me.  

I huffed,

"Wh-What the hell was that, Shinso?!" I pouted when he ruffled my hair, leaning down to kiss me.

"I love it when your dripping pussy clenches around my dick~" He muttered near my lips. He gathered up some of the liquid on my stomach, holding out his fingers for me,

"Suck." I shook my head. Shinso smirked,

"If you suck on my fingers, you'll win~" I brought his fingers in my mouth, swirling my tongue around his fingers like a lollipop and sucking on them.  

"Good girl." I frowned,

"No, I'm not good."

"You're good... For me."

"Tcchhhhhh." He used the tissue on his bedside table to clean me up before cuddling me.

[emotionalsuppork]

⁂Bokuto⁂    Soulmate AU

Okay so I remember seeing a couple of tumblr posts talking about hair soulmate AUs way back whenever - Specifically the whole ‘when you dye your hair the other persons hair changes’, or ‘when you turn a certain age your hair mixes with theirs’, even a ‘your hair colors switch’ - but I totally forgot about it until I read a Bokuto one-shot about it by oreosmama and couldn’t get this thought out of my head.

I wrote this a little differently and I didn’t really explain how any of the soulmate stuff works, but it’s fine. 

Anyways, THIS IS THEIR IDEA! I DON’T TAKE ANY CREDIT FOR THE CONCEPT! I JUST KINDA WROTE THIS AND THOUGHT IT WAS CUTE AND SOMEONE ON THE INTERNET MIGHT GET A KICK OUT OF IT!

❤ their blog  and  their one-shot❤ 

A girl ran into the empty entrance hall of the gym. She probably figured everyone had left since practice had let out a little while ago and, to be fair, everyone had already left.

Well, almost everyone.

Bokuto had stayed behind. He got caught up talking to the coaches, and he was practicing way before any of the others showed up to practice. Of course, he was going to stay late too. And he worked hard; he rightfully deserved the hot shower. 

He went through this rant when he was in his (hard-earned) hot shower.

It was only when Bo walked back into the locker room that he realized he was alone, and nobody actually cared if he stayed late. 

He got dressed and repacked his gym bag, taking out his phone to text Kuroo and ask what time he wanted to meet for lunch.

While waiting on Kuroo's response, he made his way into the main entrance hallway, strolling towards the vending machine. He dumped his gym bag on the bench sitting in between the vending machine, deciding against a snack, and instead fumbling for his wallet to buy himself a drink. That was when the door was flung open, and he watched the girl run in, her jacket held over her head as a makeshift cover from the rain outside. She walked a few feet into the hallway before collapsing against the wall, sliding down to sit on the ground after a few heaving breaths. She whimpered once, a broken sound, then pulled her knees against herself, burying her head into them and hiding her face from view.

Bokuto didn't know what to do. He only came out here to grab a drink from the vending machine.

She didn't even notice him; he could technically leave.

He sighed quietly to himself. Her jacket was completely soaked. It was slowly slipping off her head. Luckily the rest of her clothes, a thin-looking shirt, and skirt paired with (thankfully) thicker looking leggings, seemed more or less dry. He sighed again, defeated, and slid his phone into his hoodie pocket.

He really didn't want to leave her here alone.

He walked over and finally got a good look at her. Then immediately froze and choked on a breath.

Her hair was just like his!

Well, okay, it was styled a little differently but still! He broke out into a wide beaming grin. His soul mate! He found her! and she was....crying?

Oh shit.

His grin slowly faded, and a deep frown crept into its place. Her shoulders were trembling, and he could see her stuttering, uneven breathing, could hear her choking on little sobs. He slowly inched his way closer, and she seemed to be alerted to his presence by the time he got in front of her. When he stopped in front of her, she glanced at his shoes and curled into a tighter ball.

"Hey, uh, are-are you okay?" she sniffled softly and rapidly nodded her head up and down. He hummed and crouched down to try and see her better, with no luck.

"Are you sure?" he tried again. This time she took a moment, then shook her head side to side and back again. He dropped down to sit cross-legged in front of her.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" She didn't respond, and he started to panic a little, "Or-I mean, you don't have to actually, like, talk. Maybe I could guess or-or something?" He shook his head at his own stupidity. He was making a damn fool of himself. But she let out a quiet huff, and he forgave himself. At least he got her to laugh. Sort of.

He opened his mouth, racking his brain for something funny he could say to lift her spirits, but he snapped it shut when she raised a shaky hand to point at her hair. She dropped her hand back on top of her knees, still hiding her face from view. He physically wilted, feeling unbelievably heavy all of a sudden. I made her cry? What did I do!?

"Your soul mate is the problem?" She slowly nodded her head again. He didn't notice his hand reaching out for her until it was hovering over her head. He promptly snatched it back, instead using it to tug the hood of his sweatshirt over his damp hair and pull strings a little tighter. He cleared his throat. I'm not hiding, I swear.

"What happened? Do you know them?" She shook her head again and took a deep breath.

"N-no, but I-" She took another shuddering breath, "I'm sorry. I'm having a bit of a rough day today." He was stunned. Her voice was so pretty, and melodic, and soft, and...and pretty. He shook his head.

"No, don't be sorry! I mean, I'm sorry! For-cause you're crying and it's-that's not....fun." He groaned quietly and dropped his head into his hands. A damn fool. He was so insanely lucky that Kuroo wasn't here. Oh god, he'd have a field day with this.

He sat there like that a few moments, silently swearing at his own anxiety, only snapping out of it when she started giggling softly. He paused and peeked through fingers. Her face was still tilted down, and he couldn't really see her through the veil her monochrome streaked hair had made. But he could tell she was smiling a little, and his heart squeezed just shy of painful. He made her laugh for real!

"Hey, are you cold?" She stopped crying, but she was still shaking. Bokuto just realized how wet her jacket really was. He scrambled over to where he left his gym bag on the bench next to the vending machines, only tripping twice on the way. Tearing through it, he managed to find his other hoodie. He peeked a glance behind him before discreetly smelling it. It wasn't that bad for being stuck inside his gym bag. Miraculously, it didn't smell gross, just a little like his deodorant. He jogged back over to her and prayed she wouldn't think he was creepy for doing this.

"Uh h-here! Why don't you-I mean, do you feel comfortable taking off your jacket for a sec? It's really wet, and you seem kinda cold?" One shining eye looked up at him, face still hidden. He held up the hoodie in front of him. "I thought this might be more comfortable for you? I-if you want! I mean, I won't make you take it or anything." Please don't think I'm creepy, please don't think I'm creepy. please, oh please don't be scared of me.

"Thank you. That's very kind of you, um" she tilted her head to the side, her hair moving with her. Damn it.

"Oh! Bokuto, I mean, Kotaro. Er, I mean, my name is Bokuto Kotaro, but you can call me Kotaro. Please." She nodded and started to peel off her jacket. He sat back down in front of her. Her shirt was only a little damp, luckily, but it did seem pretty thin. She swiftly tugged the hoodie down over her head, pausing to roll up the sleeves when she tried to rub her eyes but found her hands lost in the fabric.

"Thank you, Kotaro, you're very sweet," He stopped breathing when she said his name, and he swore his heart stopped when she finally pushed her hair away from her face to look up at him. She continued speaking, seemly oblivious to his internal meltdown, "My name is (Y/N)."

"You're..." He trailed off and just sort of stared for a minute before she cleared her throat and tilted her head.

"I'm?" she furrowed her brows and almost pouted in confusion. Gorgeous, adorable, driving me crazy, killing me softly.

"Stunning." Is what he settled on. (Y/N) startled at that. Looking at him with wide eyes. He watched a blush wash over the apples of her cheeks, across the bridge of her nose. He sighed. She was so fucking pretty. Not to mention the fact that she was wearing his hoodie, with my name and number on the front and back in big, bold letters.

"Wait, what?" He fell gracelessly back down to earth and realized he was probably freaking her out.

"I mean-fuck, I'm sorry that was creepy I-" she rapidly shook her head and waved her hands in front of her.

"No, no, it's honestly okay. You just surprised me, that's all. Since my hair changed a few weeks ago, people have been a little, um, impolite, about my looks." She wrung her hands together in her lap and looked away. He furrowed his brows.

"People have been bullying you about your hair?" He felt heated anger and fierce frustration bubble up when she admitted it. His hands curled into tight fists and he took a few deep breaths.

Don't scare her.

"Is that why you were crying?" She tilted her head away from him again. Yes.

"They can be quite volatile..." Was all she said.

"Well, maybe you should dye your-actually no, I shou-your soul mate should dye their hair so you-" (Y/N) giggled softly again at his irate tone. He paused, and she took the moment as an opportunity to gently enclose one of his big hands with both of hers. Her hands are freezing! Bokuto unconsciously brought his other hand up to join in, turned his enclosed palm around to warm her skin.

"Honestly, my hair isn't the problem. It's just-I'm usually a little shy. Having that much attention is stressful, plus its negative attention." Bokuto looked up to watch her, but she just stared at their hands resting on her lap with a tiny smile. When had she lowered her knees? He shook his head to shake away the thoughts and focus on their conversation.

"That still sounds like your hair is the problem." He pointed out. She looked up at him. Fucking hell, she was gorgeous.

"Actually I-well, I kind of...like it." She smiled shyly but held his gaze. He tried not to visibly perk up. Instead, he raised his eyes to her monochrome hair. Black and white streaks a little wet and stringy from the rain outside. Bokuto looked into her eyes again and nodded once, resolute.

"You should. I think it suits you!" He paused and decided to finish his thought, "I think anything would suit you."

Her nearly faded blush washed back over her face, and he beamed at her when she stuttered her thanks. His wild grin softened considerably when she continued smiling at his hands, still cradling her cold fingers. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to prepare himself for his next question. He didn't see her watching him curiously.

"Do you-I mean, If you-er no, are you...?" She just stared at him in amused bewilderment. He closed the one eye he had opened to gauge her reaction and tried again.

"(Y/N), when you meet your soul mate, will you be mad at-" he stopped and bit his tongue at the words that almost escaped his mouth, will you be mad at me?, he soldiered on, "at him-at t-them?"

A moment passed where her gaze wandered, and her lips pursed slightly. Please stop doing that, I can barely think around you as it is.

"No. I don't think I have any reason to be," She said it with such finality. Like that was that, and it would never change.

"Really? But he's the reason why you went through all this. All the attention and the stress, I mean, I just found you crying in a hallway, you can't convince me that this isn't hard for you." Bokuto realizes he's basically giving her permission to hate him, which he can't even think about it hurts so bad. But I made her cry! Sure it was indirectly but still! Shouldn't he be punished or disciplined or something? Should I go run laps? Akaashi made me run fifteen laps around the gym when I accidentally made one of the first years cry.

Her voice broke him from his thoughts.

"I don't think I could ever hate them. No matter what." His heart wrenched, and this time it was painful.

"Are you sure?" She smiled and nodded at him.

"Of course I am. Who am I to judge someone I haven't met yet for having eccentric hair? Maybe they're just an eccentric person." (Y/N) shrugged her shoulders, and Bokuto was desperately fighting the urge to tug her into his lap and kiss her senseless.

Bo gathered his strength. He squeezed her hands tight once, twice, then after a moment a third time.

It still took him another few moments to actually speak.

"(Y/N), I think-I think I'm your soul mate." He had tilted his head up to the ceiling as he spoke, hoping it would help him to not cry if she got mad.

A moment passed quietly before she squeezed his hands once, twice, and a third time. He kept his eyes on the ceiling. Don't get your hopes up. (Y/N) cleared her throat and tried again, he didn't budge. She huffed and took her hands back. He heard her shuffling around. Two warm hands cupped his face and guided his head down so she could see him again. He still wouldn't look at her face.

"Kotaro," She was giggling, "Please look at me."

"Nuh-uh," he murmured. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, almost fondly. Not that he could see it.

"Am I allowed to take off your hood? Please, Kotaro?" He shut his eyes tight but agreed.

Her fingertips lingered on his skin as she pulled her palms away. Nudging under the cinched line of the hood, she gently stretched it out again and let it fall to rest against his back once more. Her hands dropped to his shoulders. For a few heartbeats, It was silent.

"That's why I feel so safe with you." (Y/N) whispered, proceeding to run her fingers through his clean hair. I might have throw out my hair gel and permanently leave it down if she keeps this up. She lightly scratched behind Bo's ears, and he noticeably shuddered. Never again. I will never again put gel in my-

His eyes snapped open, and he stared down at where (Y/N) had shifted onto her knees so she could reach his head.

"D-did you just say that you felt safe? With me?" He didn't make a move to look at her, and she (thankfully) continued brushing through his hair.

"Mhm."

After a sharp intake of breath, Bokuto raised his hands and plucked hers off his head. Running his thumbs over her knuckles, he finally worked up the courage to look at her once more.

He felt like crying. (Y/N) looked so dazzlingly beautiful, kneeling in front of him in his hoodie, wearing my name and number. She was beaming at him, but her happiness quickly turned to panic as she yanked her hands back and flitted between stroking his cheeks and rubbing his shoulders.

"Kotaro! Darling, what happened? What's wrong?" She babbled, sounding alarmed. What?

"What are you talking about?" His voice cracked. Oh shit, I actually started crying.

Bokuto started chuckling, quiet hiccups interrupting him periodically. (Y/N) still just looked panicked, which only made him laugh harder.

"I'm fine, I swear!" He flapped a hand at her to wave off her concerns and then rested it on her hip. "I just-I was so scared." He confessed, and she finally settled on rubbing his shoulders.

"You were scared?" He heard the unspoken 'of what?' and sighed.

"I accidentally made you cry! I didn't know what to do, let alone how to fix it. I was seriously thinking about running laps around the gym as punishment." (Y/N) laughed loudly at that, and Bokuto joined in after admiring her for a second.

"You were going to run laps? Why?" She asked breathless and incredulous.

"I don't know! I panicked and-I don't know!" She was leaning on him heavily at this point, laughing way too hard to hold herself up. Bokuto wrapped his arms around her waist and coaxed her into his lap after she began to tip over. Then he just watched her, brushing her monochrome hair away from her face. She called me darling.

After her giggles faded out, she looked up and watched him right back. She slowly leaned closer, and he followed her lead, letting his eyelids slide shut. He patiently waited for her to lean that last bit closer, trying to respect her boundaries. However, the sentiment flickered out when she changed directions and merely pecked his cheek before attempting to wiggle out of his hold and stand up. He narrowed his eyes at her poorly concealed laughter and held fast. She's fucking with me!

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be, huh?" Keeping her in place with one strong arm, he used his other hand to tilt her chin towards him, quickly sweeping down to kiss her. At once, she stopped struggling and fell completely pliant, allowing him to further turn her and get a better angle. (Y/N) gasped when he licked at her bottom lip and let out an adorable, soft noise when he nipped the same spot. Bokuto broke the kiss before he got too carried away trying to draw more sweet noises from her lips.

"Do you tease all the boys you kiss this bad?" She stared at him wide-eyed, looking a little dazed, before shaking her head. Bokuto raised an eyebrow.

"No? Why am I getting teased then? Huh darling?" He pouted at her and held her closer. (Y/N) opened her mouth, then closed it. Blushing at the fact he actually caught her pet name she had slipped up with earlier. She pressed her face against his shoulder, mumbling something he couldn't catch.

"Yeah, I got none of that."

"You're the only boy," She trailed off, "My first boy."

Bokuto perked up and crushed her against him so tightly she squealed.

"I'm your first kiss?" She squirmed as she nodded, and he loosened his grip a little. She looked up at him and laughed at the look on his face.

"Why do you look so happy about it?" Bokuto shrugged and tried to look less worked up. He couldn't find it in himself to look the least bit guilty, though.

"I'm sorry for stealing your first kiss. I should've asked. I'll ask next time, promise." (Y/N) looked stunned, then smiled sweetly up at him. It's gonna be so hard to keep my hands off her.

"Don't be sorry. I wanted you to have it. You don't have to ask either," She tilted her head to the floor, "They all belong to you now anyway."

Bokuto guided her lips to his again and stopped when they were a few centimeters apart. (Y/N)'s eyes had fluttered shut as soon as his fingertips pressed against her cheek, but they opened back up when he lightly tapped them against her. One glance into her sparkling irises let him know his advances were definitely welcome. After running his thumb along her soft bottom lip, he decided to make good on his earlier thought of kissing her senseless. She sighed into his mouth as soon as their lips met. Her hands moving from her lap to curl in the fabric around his neck. He pulled her tighter, promised himself to never break these sugared kisses.

Only he did. Suddenly breaking away at the abrupt, loud ringing of his phone. (Y/N) laughed when he groaned and begrudgingly fished it from his hoodie pocket, glancing at the screen. Damn it Kuroo! Leave me alone!

"What?" (Y/N) lightly smacked his shoulder at the rude tone of voice.

"Jeez, sorry for bothering you, your majesty," Bokuto growled into the receiver, "But are you done yet? We were supposed to meet up for lunch thirty minutes ago. Or are we just ignoring my texts now?"

"I'm a little busy right now, Kuroo-" He quickly got cut off.

"Yeah, I can see that. The poor girl's practically getting eaten alive." Bokuto flinched and whipped around to gape at the glass doors of the gym's entrance. Kuroo's smug face stared back at him.

"You son of a-" Kuroo hung up the phone before he could even think of finishing what would most likely be a rather vulgar insult and stepped inside, shaking off his umbrella and wiping off his shoes. Bokuto looked back at (Y/N), but she just looked confused. A little embarrassed once she noticed Kuroo walking towards them. Bokuto scrambled up, carrying (Y/N) with him, and set her down gently on her feet. Kuroo stopped in front of them, and his eyes skimmed over (Y/N)'s hair and Bokuto's hoodie draping over her, nearly covering up her skirt entirely. He spared Bokuto a glance before holding out a hand to (Y/N).

"Kuroo Tetsuro. He's much nicer in person than he is on the phone, hmm?" Bokuto rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue. (Y/N) laughed as she shook Kuroo's (stupid) hand.

"(Y/N). And I wouldn't know, we uhm, just met a little while ago." Kuroo smirked at Bokuto and clicked his tongue.

"Have you no shame, Kotaro?" Bokuto groaned and pulled at his hair. Kuroo (the bastard) just laughed and turned to (Y/N), "Would you like to join us for lunch? If we're even still going." He grumbled the last part in (mostly) pretend annoyance.

(Y/N) lit up and looked to Bokuto for permission. He brightened once more.

"Yeah! Would you?" Kuroo snorted at his eagerness, but he ignored him.

"Sure! I'd love to tag along, if it's okay with you, Kuroo?" Kuroo nodded and reminded Bokuto to grab another umbrella from the storage cupboard in the locker rooms. At the same time, (Y/N) gathered her forgotten jacket, and the bag Bo didn't even notice her carrying.

When he walked back into the hallway with the largest umbrella he could find, they were already waiting outside. Bokuto grabbed his gym bag and dashed out to follow them. He stopped and watched in pure horror as Kuroo wrapped an arm around (Y/N)'s shoulders and pulled her under his open umbrella. They both laughed at the look on his face, and Bokuto made sure to point out Kuroo's 'demonic' guffaw whenever he stomped over to tug (Y/N) underneath his own umbrella. She simply smacked his shoulder again.

[vsquadgoals]

Best friends part 2 (J.W)

Y/n, Natalie and Corinna follow David to the door of the frat where he talks to one of the guys and they all make their way inside. Whenever they go to parties like this it’s always madness with everyone trying to talk to David and get in the vlog which works in his favor, the rest of them are there to have fun and get drunk which is also good for the vlog.  

The girls decide to make their way into the kitchen to find some more alcohol since their buzz was starting to wear off from the drive, Zane, Heath, and Jeff follow them into the kitchen while David talks to some of the college students. Y/n is making a drink for herself and Carly when two guys from the frat come over to them trying to flirt, “So I haven’t seen you around here before, do you go to UCLA?” one of them askes as he hovers next to y/n, she shakes her head before taking a sip of her drink and handing Carly hers. “No, we were invited here by a friend.” She sure as hell wasn’t going to tell them that they were here with David, they’ve learned the hard way that it makes it harder to get them to leave them alone later.  

Jeff’s eyes were glued to y/n as some kid flirted with her, he wasn’t the type to get jealous over someone that he wasn’t even dating but it was y/n and she is still his best friend all feelings he has toward her aside he had to make sure she was safe considering he was one of the only sober people besides David and he was clearly busy looking for stuff to film. Y/n makes eye contact with Jeff and winks before turning her attention back to the frat guys she had zero interest in.  

“Listen I’m flattered and all but me and my girls are going to go enjoy our drinks and dance. We’ll see you guys around.” y/n says smirking to the boys and grabbing Carly’s hand as they make their way into the living room where everyone is dancing and there’s a random DJ booth which didn’t surprise y/n anymore, these parties were always strange.  

At this point y/n has finished her second drink and she dancing in the living room with all of her friends surrounding her, Toddy was behind her dancing with Natalie, Carly was with David as he filmed Zane dancing with some random girl and Heath and Mariah. Just as she was about the glance around the room and look for Jeff, she felt strong familiar hands grab onto her hips tightly and pull her back against his chest as she danced. Y/n smirked and looked over her shoulder to see Jeff smirking at her before leaning down and brushing his lips against her ear. “Looking for someone Doll?” he asked loud enough for her to hear over the loud music. Y/n just shook her head knowing he would never hear her over the speakers a few feet away from them. Jeff chuckled into her ear, “That’s what I thought.” He nibbled on her ear before pulling away and holding her hips against him and moving in sync with her.  

Y/n reached her arm behind her wrapping it around Jeff’s neck as she danced, her ass grinding against the front of his jeans, it wasn’t long before she felt him get hard against her ass. Y/n would be lying if she said that she wasn’t as turned on as him if not more, she was still soaked from the incident that happened in the back of David’s tesla.  

They danced like this for a while with Jeff kissing her bare shoulder every once and a while and his fingers gripping her hips tightly until Carly came up to them, “Will you come with me to find a bathroom or something.” Carly begged into y/n’s ear, she nodded quickly before turning to Jeff. Y/n stood on her tip toes, even in heels Jeff towered over her, “I’m going to go with Carly to the bathroom, don’t miss me too much.” She teased her lips pressed against his ear before she turned away from him and grabbed Carly’s hand making their way out of his sight.  

They found a bathroom on the second floor of the house, y/n followed Carly inside locking the door behind her, now that they were in there she had to pee too. While Carly went to the bathroom Y/n washed her hands and touched up her lip gloss. “So, what’s going on with you and Jeff?” Carly asked as she washed her hands and y/n combed her fingers through her hair trying to remove any tangles from dancing. “What are you talking about?” Y/n asked turning her attention to her friend. “Oh, come on y/n don’t play stupid with me, you guys are practically fucking out there!” Carly and y/n giggled, and she shook her head. “I don’t know Carl; I think I really like him but I’m just going with the flow. I don’t wanna ruin our friendship but on the other hand I can’t help it!” Y/n confessed to someone for the first time her feelings for Jeff, they’ve always been there but the liquid courage was making her do things she wouldn’t normally do; sure her and Jeff flirt all the time but it never really went further than them cuddling. Carly was a bit shocked at the confession from her friend. “Well damn, get it girl! His eyes have been glued to you all night; everyone has noticed! Just go for it!” Y/n smirked at her friend and grabbed her hand pulling her from the bathroom. “Come on let’s go have fun!”  

Once they made it back to the living room where they had left their friends David was rounding everyone up. Y/n grabbed onto Jeff’s arm to catch his attention as her and Carly followed them out of the house. “What happened?” Y/n asked him, Jeff shook his head and sighed. “Toddy almost got into a fight with some douche that grabbed Natalie’s ass.” Carly sighed and rolled her eyes, “Jesus you can’t take us anywhere can you?” She laughed and followed everyone to the cars. Jeff wrapped his arm around y/n’s waist and smiled down at her, she smiled up at him and winked following him into the back of the tesla taking her seat on his lap once again.  

Everyone decided it would be best just to head back to David’s and continue the fun there. Y/n laid her head on Jeff’s shoulder on the ride back to David’s while Jeff traced small circled on her back. She hummed happily closing her eyes. She hadn’t realized how tired she was until they were in the car. Zane was stilled amped up and ready to keep going playing it up a little for the camera on David’s front dash of course. By the time they got back to David’s it was 1AM and y/n was exhausted when she climbed out of the tesla.  

“Hey,” Jeff called before she followed everyone into David’s house, Y/n turned and looked at him leaning against the tesla. “Wanna get out of here? You can come to my apartment or I can give you a ride home.” Jeff offered putting a hand on either side of her as she was sitting on the hood now. Y/n smirked and nodded her head happily. “I’d love to come to your apartment; you know how much I love to cuddle with Nerf.” She teased winking at him. Jeff chuckled and grabbed her hand pulling her toward his car. “We’re not gonna say bye?” She asked following him. “God no, they’d never let us leave.” Y/n giggled and nodded in agreement before climbing into the passenger seat of his car.  

Once Jeff started driving to his apartment his hand found its way back to her bare thigh right were her skirt ended. Y/n bit her lip as she looked out the window trying not to show him how much he affected her. Jeff’s fingers rubbed teasingly against her thigh the entire ride to his place, by the time they were getting out of the car her face was flushed and she was almost soaked through her panties.  

Jeff was thrilled when they got into the elevator and it was empty, Y/n stood with her back against the wall as she twirled her hair around her finger looking Jeff up and down. Jeff couldn’t pull his eyes off her the way her dress framed her figure so well and her boots made her legs look like they went on for miles despite how short she was. “God, you’re killing me Y/n” he mumbled stepping closer to her. Y/n bit her lip and smirked looking up at him, he had a hand on either side of her keeping her pinned against the wall of the elevator. He brushed his lips against her collar bone and then up her neck, “Do you know what you’ve been doing to me all night Doll?” He growls into her ear giving her goosebumps, she shakes her head letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Jeff shakes his head and chuckled, he grabbed her hand and places it against his hard cock. “It’s been like this since you came out of that bedroom.” Y/n gasps and rubs him through his jeans while he places wet kisses from her neck to her collar bone. “fuck..” He groans as the elevator door opens and they separate from each other. Jeff grabs her hand and pulls her to his apartment where he can’t open the door fast enough especially with y/n wrapping her arms around his waist and kissing he back of his neck.  

Once he opened the door he spun around and picked her up her legs wrapping around his waist. For the first time their lips meet and Jeff kisses her like it’s the last time his lips will ever touch hers. He slams the apartment door shut locking it behind him. Y/n pulls away from his lips only to catch her breath, the kiss making her dizzy, her lips quickly find his as he carries her into the bedroom. Once his knees hit the edge of his bed he pulls away from her lips and drops her onto the bed, he takes a second to admire her, laying on his bed, lips swollen from kissing and cheeks flushed. “God you’re so beautiful.” He groans before removing his shirt and kicking off his shoes. Jeff grabs her foot and slowly slips off her thigh high boots one by one, it makes her squirm how long he’s taking. “Jeff” She whimpers looking up at him her shoes and belt now on his floor. “What is it doll?” He teases as he undoes the button on his pants looking down at her. “I need you.” She practically moans slipping the straps to her dress down off her arms.  

That’s all Jeff needed to her to say for him to lose it, he slips her dress off her body along with her panties which are soaked, he spreads her legs looking at how wet she is, he couldn’t believe it. “I guess I’ve had the same effect on you too.” He mumbles before placing her legs over his shoulders and kissing the inside of her thighs before his tongue slips in between her folds and he begins to lap up her juices. Y/n’s hand immediately goes to his hair and she grabs it tightly moaning and throwing her head back, his tongue circles her clit and he slowly slips a finger into her dripping entrance. “Jeff!” Y/n moans loudly tugging on his hair.  

Jeff circles her clit a few more times before he can’t take it anymore, he’s removing his boxers and climbing on top of her kissing her lips hungerly again. Jeff lines himself up with her entrance and looks at her again for reassurance before slowly slipping inside of her, Y/n gasps and wraps her legs around his waist. “Jeff, Move please.” She whimpers moving her hips against his eagerly. Jeff smirks down at her kissing her lips again before he starts pounding into her relentlessly. “This what you wanted Doll?” He growls as he pounds into her harder and faster putting one of her legs over his shoulder. “Yes, Fuck yes.” Y/n moans loudly her nails digging into his bicep as her eyes roll into the back of her head. Jeff moans kissing and biting her leg that lays sloppily over his shoulder leaving small marks all over it. Y/n feels the knot in her stomach getting tighter and tighter as she grows closer to her orgasm, “Jeff, I’m gonna cum.” She whimpers balling up the sheets in her fists. “I’m right with you baby.” He moans, Jeff’s thumb finds its way to Y/n’s clit and circles it quickly bringing her to a mind-blowing orgasm. Y/n and Jeff moan loudly together as they both reach their orgasm together.  

Jeff hovers over Y/n a little longer trying to catch his breath as she peppers kisses on his shoulder. He smiles and slowly pulls out of her and falls onto the bed next to her signing happily. Y/n turns to face him smiling. “That was incredible.” he whispers wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her body against him, Y/n cuddles into his side and nods, they lay in silence for a little while before Y/n breaks the silence. “I like you Jeff, a lot.” She whispers against his chest too afraid to look him in the eyes. Jeff smiles and puts his finger under her chin making her look him in the eyes. “I like you too y/n.. We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t” He cups her cheek and kisses her softly on her lips. “I’m just so glad you feel the same.” He whispers against her lips.  

Jeff and y/n cuddle under the blankets almost asleep when a whimpering wakes them, Jeff chuckles and picks Nerf up from the floor and places him on the bed, but instead of cuddling into Jeff like he does every night Nerf goes to y/n’s side of the bed and cuddles into her back sighing happily before falling asleep pressed against her. “I guess I’m not the only one happy you’re here.” Y/n giggles and reaches behind her rubbing Nerfs soft fur a couple of times before placing her hand back on Jeff’s chest and falling fast asleep.  

A/n: Part 3? Let me know! 

[kat-katsuki]

Gender Swap | Todoroki Shouto x OC

Synopsis: Idou Shun and Todoroki Shouto have been dating for a while, and on their way to school together, they were accidentally hit by a gender swap quirk that turned Todoroki into a girl and Idou into a boy. 

Word Count: 2k

---Enjoy---

The whole class burst into laughter. "BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Ashido even snorted between laughs. Only Midoriya, the sweet boy, actually took the situation seriously.

"Oh my god, how did this happen?" he asked in horror when he faced the red and white haired "girl" and caramel colored haired "boy."

"These two idiots accidentally got their genders swapped on their way to school when a villain attacked and a civilian accidentally bumped into them out of panic," Aizawa explained to the class. What was hilarious was the "boy" was wearing the girl's uniform, which clamped down tight on him, while the usually form fitting uniform was now all baggy over the "girl."

"Man this is too good!" Kirishima couldn't stop laughing.

"Picture! OMG I need to take a picture!" Kaminari snapped a picture of the two classmates of his.

"Guys, it's not funny," the "boy" whined in a girly tone. It just sounded wrong considering his voice was deep and manly.

"OH MY GOD THIS IS TOO GOOD!" Sero started crying out of laughter. "I can't! Idou has leg hair!"

"NOT FUNNY!" the "boy" named Idou looked like he was about to cry. Then, the "girl" stepped in front of him. "Shou-chan...."

"Shun and I will change back in 24 hours, so just go about your day normally," she said.

"Todoroki-kun looks so cute! I wanna put his hair up!" Hagakure said, totally ignoring him.

Aizawa sighed. Class isn't going to get anywhere with these two in their current forms, so he said, "Todoroki, Idou, go switch your outfits."

"I'm not wearing a skirt," Todoroki said with a frown. The class, however, had stars in their eyes, desperate to see the strongest boy in class wear a skirt, even though he is in a girl's form right now.

"Shou-chan," a deep whiny voice caught Todoroki's attention. He, er....She looked over at Idou, who looked like she he was about to cry. "Please....." To be perfectly honest, Todoroki felt disgusted at the sight of a tall, muscular guy begging him in a cutesy pose like that. But considering that it's his girlfriend on the inside, he had no choice but to comply. And so, they switched outfits.

Todoroki's face was deep red when he came back to the classroom with a skirt on. Idou looked much more comfortable in pants and a form fitting shirt. The class made a few more jokes, and took some more pictures, but were then forced to sit back down and go through class. Giggles and snickers wouldn't stop, and even some teachers laughed at the situation. "I AM HER-" All Might didn't even finish his usual announcement before turning around to laugh. During break, the girls put Todoroki's hair up in pigtails, white on one side and red on the other. All Might did everything he could to resist the urge of taking a photo of him.

"Alright, class, get into your costumes and gather at training ground gamma!"

The whole class looked towards Todoroki and Idou. Iida was first to raise his hand. "All Might-sensei, what will we do about Todoroki-kun and Idou-san?" he asked.

"Hmm....why not let Idou go to the boy's locker room and Todoroki to the girls?" All Might suggested.

"NO!" all the girls shouted. Sure Todoroki has a female body now, but he's still a guy on the inside, so it wouldn't be right for him to see all the girls change. Same goes for Idou in the guys room. Remembering that, All Might patted himself on the head, and apologized for his 'carelessness.'

"Then, continue to go to the same locker room?" All Might asked again.

"YES!" Mineta shouted. He didn't care Todoroki was a guy on the inside, a girl's body is a girl's body. Not to mention Todoroki's boobs are huge!

"No!" Idou shouted. "Definitely not!" No way is she letting Mineta see her boyfriend's boobs.....

"Just go fucking change in bathroom stalls," Bakugou rolled his eyes and retorted. Sometimes people can't help but admit, Bakugou really is a genius.

-----

"Shou-chan," Todoroki shuddered when he heard that deep manly voice call his nickname. He looked at his girlfriend (more like boyfriend now), and finally took a good look at her up and down. His pants was too short on her. Todoroki suddenly started to feel a little insecure about this. Idou is taller than him, and more muscular, and has a deeper voice than him as a man. He didn't know how he felt about that. "Wanna eat lunch together?"

"Yeah," he answered in his soft, silky, high pitched voice. God he sounds pre-puberty. Out of habit, they locked fingers, and both found something odd. They looked down.

"It feels weird having bigger hands," Idou said. "And being taller than you." She gazed around the hall. "Wow, it really does look different from up here." Todoroki sighed. He has to admit, it looks different down here too. They continued to walk towards the cafeteria, until Idou suddenly froze.

"What's wrong?" Todoroki asked.

"I have to pee...." she said.

"So?" Todoroki first looked confused, then he realized the issue, and his eyes gazed down at Idou's crotch. "Oh...."

"How....?" Idou squeaked, desperate for help. Sweat poured down her face at the thought of it, and made her want to pee even more. What was originally just a small urge is now turning to an emergency as she thought about it.

"C-Calm down!" Todoroki stuttered. He needs to remain calm. "Come with me." He grabbed her by the wrist, and pulled her down the hall.

When they arrived in front of the restrooms, Idou said, "I'm not going into the guy's bathroom."

"Suck it up Shun, you have to,"  Todoroki said, pushing the door open and dragging her in. Idou took a sharp breath when she saw the guys at the urinals, with their.....things out...... The guys all turned and stared at them, jaws dropped.

"See, they're staring at me," Idou said. "I shouldn't be in there."

"No, they're staring at me," Todoroki informed. Oh right, Idou realized. She is a boy now. And the pigtails Todoroki is the one that doesn't fit in here. "Come with me." He dragged her into a stall, and closed the door behind her. All the guys finished their businesses, zipped up their pants, and hurried out of the bathroom. They are not staying for what was happening next. Todoroki stood outside the stall, and shouted, "Unzip your pants, take it out, aim, and go."

"I can't!"

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I don't wanna touch it!"

Todoroki rolled his eyes, and walked into the stall. "I'll help you," he said.

"What?!"

"You don't wanna touch it right?"

"Yeah but-"

"Just unzip it!" Todoroki unzipped the pants for Idou. Outside the stall, a few boys walked into the bathroom, and when they heard the girl say 'unzip it,' they all decided to walk out and go to another bathroom. Oh god, high schoolers these days, so bold.

"Kya!" Idou squealed in her manly voice, sending goosebumps down Todoroki's spine again. He grabbed her....thing....., and pointed it at the toilet. "That feels weird!" Idou's face was as red as the left side of Todoroki's hair, and so was Todoroki's face. He seemed to just have realized that although this was a man's body he was touching, it was still his girlfriend's body. And technically, he's touching her....... Oh no don't even think about it.

"Just go!" Todoroki closed his eyes and turned away as Idou went. After all that happened, they walked out of the stall, face redder than the sunset.  They didn't half to talk about it to agree to never to mention this again.

-----

A long day of school finally ended. Todoroki and Idou both let out a sigh of relief. It's over. Finally. Now they can go home and wait for it t-

"Shou-chan you're bleeding!" Idou exclaimed.

"What?" Todoroki looked at his arms, nothing. "Where?" Suddenly he felt something hot, sticky, and wet, slowly glide down his inner thighs. It was as if the blood in his face decided to flow downwards. His ash like complexion was silently conveying his fear. "Is that...."

"You're on your period...." Idou nodded. But how? And why? Idou suddenly remembered the panicky civilian who told them they'd experience everything the opposite gender goes through. She smacked herself in the face, letting out a groan. "This day is just getting worse."

By now, Todoroki was completely freaking out. "W-What do I do?" he asked. This time, Idou had to be the calm one.

"I-It's okay!" she said. "I have pads in my backpack!" She dragged Todoroki into the girl's bathroom, straight into a stall. "Take off your skirt." There was already a stain on the back of the skirt. Todoroki ignored the fact that he was blushing like a madman and closed his eyes, taking his skirt off, and underwear, and sat down on the seat.

"You're wearing boxers?! Who wears boxers under a skirt?" Idou exclaimed. "How am I supposed to put the pad on that?"

"I-I don't know, just do something!" Todoroki begged. Oh God, she's actually really cute when she's flustered like that, Idou thought. Then she slapped herself in the face. Shun wake up, that's your boyfriend, don't call him a she. She took a deep breath, and unwrapped the pad. She carefully placed it onto Todoroki's boxers. She folded the inside of the boxer so that the wings of the pad still wraps around it. It'll just feel weird later.

"Okay, um. The pad is on. Just w-wipe......" Idou decided to turn around and not look at her boyfriend attempting to wipe the excess blood from his.....v- Yeah let's just leave it at that.

When Todoroki and Idou got out of the stall, they were surrounded by basically all the girls from class 1-A. "What are you guys doing here?" Idou asked. Todoroki hid his face in his hands, too embarrassed to face his classmates. He must be the first man in history to experience a period. I'm gonna be so much better to Shun when she's on her period from now on, he thought.

"Oh, I was gonna say I have tampons," Ashido held a tampon up in the air.

"Pain medicine," Jirou offered.

"I have chocolate!" Uraraka said.

"Todoroki-san, are you feeling alright now? Do you need to go to the nurse?" Yaoyozoru asked.

"Yeah, if you feel any cramps just tell us okay?" Hagakure said.

"Thanks everyone, let's go back home," Idou thanked them for Todoroki. Outside the bathroom, the boys all gathered around, cracking up at Todoroki.

"Oh my God he seriously got his period!" laughed Kaminari.

"What does I feel like?" for some reason Ojiro looked seriously curious when he asked the question.

"Horrible..." Todoroki replied. His face was still red.

"No kidding, the skirt is all stained," Kirishima pointed to Todoroki's skirt.

"Heh." Idou turned to Bakugou, who just snickered at Todoroki.

"What are you laughing about Bakugou?!" she glared at him. The blonde simply smirked at shrugged. He left before Idou could say anything else to him. She then noticed the nervous look on Todoroki's face. With her large, manly manly hands, she grabbed his soft smooth ones. Damn they're so much softer than mine, she thought.

"Shou-chan, it'll be over by tomorrow," she said, trying to comfort him. He gave her a soft smile and a nod. Idou took off her, er.... Todoroki's jacket, and wrapped it around his waist, covering the stain. The rest of the class made a path for them to pass through, and the two of them walked out of school and headed home.

The next morning Idou still woke up as a boy. The previous day she explained to her mother the long story. Of course it caused quite some laughter in the household. In the morning however, it started causing concerns. According to the 24 hour rule, Idou won't be able to transform back until later on her way to school. She wore Todoroki's school uniform, and met up with him at the intersection between his neighborhood and hers. He wore her school uniform, and had his hair down. He looked just as uncomfortable as she did.

"Shou-chan!" Idou greeted him.

"Good morning Shun," Todoroki greeted her back. He held a hand out to her as usual, but the two of them were both a little reluctant to hold hands. The way his hand fit inside her's...just didn't feel right.

Both of them were nervous as they walked down the streets. Any moment now, they thought. Of course during the incident yesterday, the two weren't able to confirm exactly what time they became like this, so now they had to wait for it to happen.

"Excuse me," a girl said as she pushed through the crowd. As she squeezed by Idou, Idou lost balance, and started falling into the streets.

"Hey! Shun!" Todoroki called for her. He quickly grabbed her by the wrist, but the moment his hand touched her skin, POOF!

People around them started coughing due to the sudden smoke bomb. What exactly happened? When the smoke cleared, everyone's eyes widened to see a young copper orange haired girl in an over sized boys uniform and a tall strange haired boy dressed in a skirt.......

"Leg hair," someone in the crowd muttered.

Both Todoroki and Idou's faces were beet red. "This is the worst!"

[sabraeal]

Thaumaturge

Part of the Ascend (Series), inspired by @onedivinemisfit‘s Concubine AU

Written for the obiyuki kiss-a-thon, and massively, massively late. YET STILL JUST IN TIME. The prompt was Jealous Kiss

There’s an itch between his shoulder blades while Shirayuki talks with Miss Kiki, heads bent and voices low, one he knows won’t be satisfied with a scratch. It’s got nothing to do with the way his coat stretches over his shoulder, or the way his muscles long for a good spar, and everything to do with the fact that he doesn’t belong here.

Oh, Master might have given him a fancy title, and His Majesty might like dressing him up for these soirees, but none of that makes him one of them, a peer, and everyone knows it.

Sir Hisame smirks at him over the rim of his wine, angling himself closer to Kiki’s side. Obi frowns. Some more than others, it would seem. Doesn’t help that this monkey suit isn’t his, no matter how nice the tailoring. He’s not the sort of man who touches this much cloth-of-gold unless he’s stealing it.

He bites back a smile. Oh, to see the steward’s face when he learned that tidbit. The man wouldn’t put him in a room with so much silver, that’s for sure.

“I see.” Kiki settles back in her hips, mouth bent thoughtfully. “So you’re here to see Lord Eisetsu.” She flicks a wry look at him. “An unusual matter, indeed.”

Hisame hums beside her, wearing the sort of look a cat gets right before you smell the bird on its breath.

“Well now, Miss Kiki,” Obi drawls, “speaking of unusual matters...I’m sure the prince wasn’t invited, but that doesn’t explain the two of you.”

“When Lord Eisetsu visited Wirant to convey his regards, I was at home.” To his horror, Kiki exchanges a look with her...fiancé. “It seems he extended this invitation once he heard of our engagement.”

Once he suspected that Master had lost his long alliance with Seiran’s daughter, more like. “And are the Bergatts here?”

What a party of traitors that might make. Obi restrains himself from slanting a measuring look at the Vice Captain.

“They are not,” Kiki tells him, idly waving the fan in her hands. “Neither Lord Tsuruba nor Sir Tariga.”

“Even if they were invited, they wouldn’t attend,” Sir Hisame says, illustrating his most definitive quality: insinuating himself where he’s least wanted. “They are beyond the pale, so to speak. The only person who could publicly engage with them now is the prince himself.”

Not including the Bergatt staff, of course, or the pages that Tsuruba would be rubbing elbows with in Wirant. Funny how so little people seemed to count for personhood these days.

Obi knows better that to remark on it, not in this crowd. “That’s our young master for you,” he drawls, making a show of mulling over the Vice Captain’s words. “So majestic.”

Sir Hisame’s smile wears thin on his lips. “Quite.”

“And what about tonight?” His gaze cuts to Kiki, serious. “Has anything strange happened?”

“Hard to say.”

The last time a man spoke for Miss Kiki, she had laid him out on the dirt, standing over him with that calm smile of hers as she said, I know how to speak for myself. But the Vice Captain forges ahead, unmolested. A pity. “Although I will note, this is the first time since my debut that no young ladies have approached me.”

Obi knows that Kiki always fights her own battles, but maybe this once--

“Jokes aside.” Hisame’s expression shadows, growing sharp. “You should be aware that even though you have the power of the royals at your back, the fact that you are clustering at the edge of the floor is no doubt sowing seeds of suspicion around you.”

Obi stiffens, casting his gaze around the room. He’s annoyed to find that the Vice Captain’s observation is true; though the glances are surreptitious, tendered over champagne flutes or behind fluttering fans, nearly every lord and lady not occupied with the dance is watching them, watching-- her.

His wife.

“My lady--” he starts, reaching out a hand--

Only for it to be knocked aside by a shoulder. “On that note, Lady Shirayuki.” The serpent bares his fangs as he offers a hand. “Are you able to dance?”

Every line of Shirayuki grows tense, wary. They had met Hisame at a ball like this, years ago, when neither of them were worth more than a pithy comment about the prince’s new pets and an all-too knowing look he dragged up her body. His wife may be forgiving, but it seems she has not forgotten that particular encounter, not even for Miss Kiki’s entirely reformed fiancé.

Her hands curl into stiff fists at her side. “Pardon, my lord?”

“I thought we might emulate Their Majesties--” his hand slithers around hers, pale skin pressed to kid glove-- “and light up the floor with our majestic presence.”

He turns his back to them, ignoring Shirayuki’s stammered protests. “We’ll be back, Miss Kiki.”

And with only that, Sir Snake sweeps his wife out onto the floor, the skirt of her gown belling out behind her. She’s a vision beneath the lamplight, the chandeliers making the golden thread on her dress sparkle and shimmer, as if she were little more than a flame herself, guttering in the breeze.

She casts an alarmed glance over her shoulder, but it is not to beg him for help-- oh no, she spares it only for Miss Kiki, who waves her off with a bored expression. It seems Lady Seiran feels no particular proprietary sense over her snake of a fiancé.

He could stop this himself, of course; he’s her husband. He’d have every right to cut in, to demand this dance, but--

It would cause a scene, one that might make a lord think twice about entering into an already risky venture. Jealous husbands seldom made for easy negotiations. Especially with a man who already showed such enthusiasm for dressing the wife.

So instead, Obi grinds his teeth, watching a gloved hand slither about her waist, drawing her close. Too close. Leave it to a serpent like Luigis to steal a man’s wife for a waltz.

Sir Hisame lifts his chin, meeting his gaze over her shoulder, and-- and smirks.

Obi startles as a hand falls on his wrist. “Careful,” Kiki drawls softly, never taking her gaze from the pair, “that’s crystal.”

He eases his chokehold on the glass. “You’re not going to stop him?”

“He’s right.”

Obi nearly does a double take right there in the ballroom. Kiki Seiran, saying that this man had a point--

“You were drawing attention hovering at the edge of the room like that,” she continues, gaze fixed to where the dancers float across the floor, faint smile firmly in place. “Though I suppose the honeymoon might be over, after--”

“I just don’t like this,” he interjects, darting a pointed glance at the young boy between them. Ryuu’s not paying attention of course, only worrying the sleeves of his borrowed jacket as he eyes the crowd warily, as if someone might ask him to dance at any time. “It’s all a little...neat.”

Her gaze drags to his for a long moment. Sir Hisame, so recently embroiled in the Bergatt incident, now in the room of a man avoiding royal attention. She couldn’t miss the implication.

“He won’t do anything to her,” she says, looking back out to the floor. “It wouldn’t behoove him to lose his fiancée’s good graces so soon after he has won them, would it?”

He grunts into his wine. “Goodness, how highly you think of your betrothed.”

Her mouth hooks into a sharp smile. “He’s only slightly more likely to attempt something than you are.”

His jaw drops. “There’s a child here.”

Ryuu frowns. “I’m not a child, I’m fifteen.”

He has a point, but Obi knows exactly what he was doing at fifteen, and he wouldn’t discuss any of that in Ryuu’s hearing either.

Kiki’s brow arches, too amused. “Oh, is that the excuse you’re using now?”

Obi’s tempted to open his mouth, to inform her that she must have old information, for not only has Shirayuki been in his bed, but also--

Also, he knows the softness of her skin and the way she whines as his hands roam across it, how her breath goes shallow when he kisses at her thighs, the precise shape of her mouth as he licks between them, tasting the sweetness that lies there--

His breath huffs out harshly. He really shouldn’t be thinking of any of that right now. Not when he needs a clear head.

“In any case, he’s the safest partner in this ballroom tonight.” Kiki cuts her gaze toward him and Ryuu. “Present company excluded.”

“I’m not worried that he’s going to whisk her away,” he grumbles, taking another sip from his glass. His aching jaw can attest to how little Shirayuki has to complain. “I’m worried about the sort of poison he could spit in her ear.”

You might try searching a bed for your next assignment. It’s been years since the words were spoken, but they scald him still. That little prick of a clerk is clear in his mind, wielding gossip like a blade, trying to draw first blood. Too bad a clerk did not need his wit so sharp as a concubine in the harem; he’d think twice before trying to cross blades with Shirayuki again. But the Vice Captain...

Well, if his time at Sereg was any indication, Sir Hisame could wield more venom than one inconsequential clerk. And he had Shirayuki at the perfect distance to sink the knife in, with no one being none the wiser.

“Master Ryuu, Sir Obi.”

He doesn’t startle, but it’s a close thing; only the fact that he is here as a knight of the royal circle keeps his heels firmly planted to the parquet.

It does not seem to fool Lugilia’s steward. When he turns to face him, his smug smile is already in place. “Sorry to have kept you.”

He might be new to this whole knight thing, but he’s learned a thing or two from watching Master. Obi lets the apology hand in the air, getting heavy, stale, awkward.

Shou’s smile practically creaks from the weight of it. “He’s had many people keeping him occupied.”

Obi isn’t in the habit of pulling rank-- that’s a good way to get spit with your tea in the morning-- but standing here, dressed in this gaudy monkey suit at a party he’s been press-ganged into-- by proxy, no less--

Well, he’s quickly running out of fucks for this man’s tender feelings. “Meaning we can speak with him now?”

“Indeed.” He mislikes how amused the man sounds. “In fact, he’s already headed Lady Shirayuki’s way.”

“What?” Obi whips his gaze to the floor, but it’s too late, far too late. The band still plays, but the dancing has stopped, every guests’ eye drawn to where a young lord stands at the center of the floor, his arm outstretched--

Holding a flower. A rose, though its crimson petals pale compared to the hair of the woman he offers it to.

His glove creaks at his side. he’s an idiot, letting her leave his side. The steward had tried to separate them once before, back when he got them into these costumes, and Obi’d been wise to it then, but then he let that serpent just take her--

“Who is that?” A lady not far from his squints through the dancers. “That red-haired girl?”

To his other side, a man murmurs, “Does she know Lord Eisetsu?”

Shirayuki is no stranger to this sort of attention; her harem mask is well in place, smile welcoming and body open. But the rest of her is frozen, coiled for flight, like a vixen cornered in her den. And this particularly canny hound has no intention of letting her slip past.

“She must, she must,” laughs a woman, words pitched soft, “or at least, she will by the end of the night.”

“Oh?” It’s a man who answers, confused. “I thought she was already on someone’s arm tonight.”

With a hand that doesn’t shake, she accepts the rose.

“What does that matter?” snickers another guest. “A girl like that couldn’t do better than Eisetsu, and I’m sure her husband knows it!”

Obi shakes himself, loosening his fist. Let them talk. In a few months, all these old dogs will be saying her name like a new trick, this whole night forgotten like a bad dream.

Eisetsu looks up as she cradles the rose to her breast, meeting Obi’s gaze over her shoulder. He expects a nod, a polite acknowledgement of their connection, a tacit question about this approach--

But instead that horse-faced fuck smiles, smiles, like a man who’s already won, like she’s some sort of prize.

“Trust him,” Kiki murmurs, and for a moment he wants to ask her if she’s gone mad, if she can really tell him to trust the man who thinks Shirayuki is an object to be passed from man to man--

Until Hisame steps between them. Or rather, behind Shirayuki, his hand laid protectively over her shoulder, blocking Eisetsu’s gloat.

“He knows how to handle this sort of thing,” Kiki tells him, smoothing down his sleeve.

“I suppose he’d have to,” Obi mutters, “this is just the sort of move he loves to pull.”

Kiki’s mouth tugs into a smile. “Hush.”

Despite his timely help at Sereg, and the miraculous way he has wormed himself into Wistal’s good graces, Sir Snake could only be trusted as far as his leash. A length, Obi thinks, should only be long enough for him to hang himself with.

But he trusts Kiki, and if she thinks they can rely on slithering fiancé for this, well, he’ll--

Call her a fool, because there the fork-tongued little cuss is, fleeing away from the scene as Lord Eisetsu sweeps his wife from the ballroom.

“Son of a bitch,” he hisses. “That rat--”

“Obi, just wait. I’m sure--”

“Oh yes,” he shrugs off her grasp, stepping away, “looks like he clearly has it handled. You should marry him for that display alone.”

She casts him a warning look, arms folded tight against her chest. “Obi...”

“Ah, Sir Obi!” Hisame hails him with a raised hand as he weaves through the crowd, mouth quirked into a smirk. “Just in time. You should--”

Obi shoulders past him. “I don’t need to be told how to deal with my wife, sir.”

The snake’s mouth snaps shut, but there’s no time to enjoy his speechlessness, not when Eisetsu is nearly out the door, tugging a reluctant Shirayuki behind him.

“My lady,” he calls out, unclasping his cape. It slides easier than his others, he notes with no little annoyance. If he makes it through this, he’ll have to ask a man about some clasps.

Shirayuki spins on her heel, relief plain on her face. “Obi!”

He gives her a tight smile, just a bend of his lips. “My lady, you’ll be cold out there.”

With a flick of his wrist the cloak settles on her shoulders, smooth and even as if it had been hers to begin with, another part of her glittering ensemble. He takes a step closer, hands splaying out over her collar, feeling the way she trembles beneath them. “Please wear this.”

“Obi...” she breathes, heat fanning over his lips, and he lifts a hand, curling a smooth, kid-clad finger beneath her chin. Her mouth parts, just slightly, and--

Well, he knows an invitation when he sees one.

His lips brush hers, and that’s all he means it to be, a soft touch to let Eisetsu know that she was not some neglected noble wife, eager to let a more passionate man roll her, but--

But Shirayuki turns into him, clutching his tunic with her kitten claws, and whimpers.

This is, by all accounts, a formal occasion, a private soiree where the guest list has been scrupulously maintained to assure only the outcome most desirable for its host. Obi isn’t sure what they’ve done to earn their place among its honored press, what strange whim has seen them thrown into this kettle of conspirators, but whatever Eisetsu has planned, it can’t have involved a no-name knight and his wife sharing a passionate kiss in front of an utterly silent ballroom.

Good.

His arms cinches around her waist, drawing her tight against him. Her lips part on a gasp, leaving her soft, pliant, and it’s too much to ask him to behave when he remembers how she had looked in the lamplight of his bedroom, head thrown back in abandon as she chased the pleasure only his hands and tongue could give her.

His glove slips from her chin, the whole of his palm sliding along her cheek until he can tangle his fingers deep in the mass of her hair. It’s done up tight, a proper twist for a lady, but in his memory it’s loose, a shining sea of copper curling down the pale skin of her back, and he wants to lose himself it in it, in all of her.

It’s her that opens her mouth, that lets the tip of her tiny tongue dart out, insinuating itself between his lips, and oh, he should have done this sooner--

Someone coughs, awkward. Ah, right. They have an audience.

He steps away, taking in her flushed face, bruise lips, the way her hair has nearly come loose from its clip-- her clip, the one they’d bought only a day ago-- and it takes everything he has in him not to pull her back to him.

“Well.” He retreats another step; a safer distance with the way his blood is thrumming so headily beneath his flesh. “I’ll be waiting inside, my lady.”

She blinks, the heat banking in her eyes as she realizes that they are not alone, that only steps away is the man she needs convince of the Phostyrias’ usefulness. Which she can’t do if her mouth is occupied with his, unfortunately. “T-thank you, Obi.”

He turns to the lord, mouth curving into a satisfied smile as he takes in Eisetsu’s deflated posture. “I leave my wife in your care, Lord Eisetsu.”

The lord startles, giving him a wary, wide-eyed stare. “Yes. I’ll....be sure to get her back before she catches a chill.”

He lets his smile go sharp. “See to it you do.”

[jeanstoppable]

20th & 21st OF OCTOBER

~change the channel~ (substitute)

~island in the sun~

(A/N: I cannot, for the life of me, make these prompts shorter. But anyways, here’s some more of my Cyberpunk oc and a bit of world building)

WARNING: Mentions of Drug Use/Dark themes

The door shut with a soft click, the metal barrier cancelling out the harsh and turbulent noise of the downpour outside, as a clear ping pierced the silence of the room, signalling the automatic lock being completed.

I tossed the drenched sling bag somewhere on the floor, hearing it land but not bothering to check where, and started peeling the equally wet jacket off my torso, leaving me in a sleeveless black top.

I should take a shower first. I thought. But my legs didn’t move towards the bathroom to my far right, instead my eyes were fixated on the desk beside my bed, and then gradually brought them up on the old painting displayed right above it.

Later. This can’t wait. Heart and mind decided, I shuffled over to the desk in a sense of urgency, grabbed the painting by its sides and then plucked it from the hook. Flipping the frame around, a black plate covered the back of the canvas. With familiar ease, I slid my fingers across the upper corner edges and found the latch, successfully unfastening the plate to unveil a couple of worn-out journals hidden inside. Untouched.

A breath of relief escaped me, my fear of the notebooks being discovered momentarily disappearing.

I picked out the one I’ve been using as of late—the tenth one if I recall correctly, since I’ve already used up every bit of space from the others—and opened the journal where it had a bookmark.

The yellowed blank pages were a frequent sight as I ran a hand across the smooth surface while my other hand pulled a pen from a cup that was also holding a heap of markers and then started writing my thoughts—

It was a common enough phrase.

“CHANGE THE CHANNEL”

It doesn’t pique interest, at least to...someone like me, so it shouldn’t raise any suspicions, right?

I hovered the nib of the pen slightly above the paper, thinking if I should continue to write about the news we’ve received today. It was shocking enough that I even had to pinch myself a couple of times to see if I was dreaming or not because the news wasn’t just good nor great---it was the best fucking thing I’ve heard in years and it also just happens to be the one we’ve all been waiting for.

Setting down the pen, I reached for the hidden compartment again, took the very first journal I owned and then absently flipped through the filled pages, the crisp, crinkling sounds tenderly jogging my memory.

I stopped at the beginning of the notebook, a reminiscing smile graced my lips as I traced the old ink with the tip of a finger.

Don’t let anyone steal this.

I snorted, of course, this was written on the day I got my ass beat and left without so much of a coin in my pocket—thus, I was forced to resort to stealing. Strangely enough, this journal was the first thing I stole and to this day, I can’t seem to remember the reason why but I do remember how awful the act made me feel, the feeling lasted for days.

Nonetheless, those feelings subsided after getting accustomed to this lifestyle. Crime practically lived and breathed under my skin, these hands and feet of mine becoming my very own accomplices.

I closed my eyes as the usual barrage of emotions washed over me: disappointment, disgust, anger, hate—so much hate and all of it was directed at the only person I can blame at the moment.

Well to be fair, not once did I deny the indisputable fact that I hated how my life turned out, how everything turned out considering that there’s no one even left to impress, no one to see me pretend as if I wasn’t so horribly broken-down on the inside.

I hated how I was still here, anchored by some self-righteous bullshit I’d placed like a burden on my shoulders that one miserable night, a burden that still stubbornly carries the promise of changing the lives of so many other people.

My gaze landed on the scribbled date at the top of the page.

It’s been 6 years since the incident.

I breathed out my nose unevenly and closed the book with a snap, pushing it aside as I returned to the previous journal and picked up the pen to finish today’s log.

It’s happening.. It’s finally happening.

Today marks the fucking day of something revolutionary as we received reports, genuine physical reports, of a planned coup in all of five districts. And I know there had been a lot of them in the past and those who participated lost their lives after being executed on the spot… However, this time around, my gut tells me otherwise.

I think I mentioned this in my previous logs; it’s about the power balance shifting. It began to tip since last year and it hasn’t stopped till now. I fiercely believe that the power will eventually find its way back to us, as it rightfully should.

This was a long time coming after all. Years and years of effort had been put in just to dethrone those who forcefully robbed us of our lives and not just that---Our identities.. Our Family and friends. The voice itself of the public.

Letting out a tortured laugh, I wrote the end of the log:

CHANGE THE CHANNEL

Simple, dismissive and yet it holds the power of treason. It speaks the word of rebellion. I’m not afraid anymore because this phrase will take us one step closer to freedom.

. . .

“...Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Positive.”

I cast my partner a skeptical glance.

“...I’m 80% sure.” He nervously admitted, purposely avoiding my prodding eyes.

A huff of disbelief slipped past my lips as I demanded from him, “What did the message say anyway?”

“It was a recorded message programmed inside a toy, it only said the time and the address before self-destructing. But like I said, I don’t think I got any of the information wrong.”

“Maybe you misheard or missed something because this—”

I swallowed the sentence and did another scan of the building in front of us, our position from an empty terrace across the street granting us to overlook the supposed meeting place, the rendezvous as it turns out was a grand and luxurious night club.

It seemed that access was only given to those in the upper class but since it was fairly new and as far as rumors go, I heard it has an eccentricity to it, so the club wasn’t bustling like the other similar establishments scattered in the district. Still, entry to the venue remains as a privilege only to those who can afford to waste money, in this economy.

I eyed the flashy neon sign just above the main doors with slight distaste and a growing curiosity.

Island in the Sun

The name certainly snatches attention.

After seeing a bunch of people dressed in stylish clothes walk out, I run a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling a tiny bit insecure about what I’m wearing.

Hell, nothing about my attire was fancy by any means so I shot my partner another worried glance, “Do we really have no further means of communication with them? Do we really have to enter through the front? Can’t we just, you know, sneak inside a window? I mean, we don’t—we’re not—”

I gestured to his clothes and then mine, “We’ll stick out like sore fucking thumbs.”

“You do make a sound point.” He murmured and then lowered his goggles to finally address me, his grey orbs illuminated by the numerous bright neon signs, “I never expected our sponsor to be this...shameless? They’re practically waving their wealth in our faces, makes me wanna take a swipe at them.”

“Arman,” I quietly sighed, “What are we getting ourselves into?”

Is this what having cold feet feels like?

My partner surveyed me for a instant before having the nerve to roll his eyes, “Just treat this as one of our regular heists, Sonya. Aren’t you the least excited to experience what it’s like partying with the upper class?”

I stayed silent, not bothering to tell him that I did have prior experience, and just rubbed my temples, a headache forming at the prospect of how tonight will go.

“Time for a channel change.” My partner winked, his wise words partnered with the small gesture cracked my lips into a smile.

He then put a hand under his chin, thinking carefully as he relayed more of his thoughts, “And maybe get laid by the end of the night.” This time, I was the one to roll my eyes and got a glower from him in exchange.

“You could use it as well… When’s the last time you—”

“Shut the fuck up, Arman.” I tried snapping back but it turned into a laugh instead.

He only grinned toothily, looking guilty but proud, “Less nervous?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Wait.” He said all of a sudden.

I raised a brow in question, my hands already gripping onto the rails, poised to scale down at any moment.

“Clothes.” Arman waved a hand and I grimaced.

“Ah yeah, right.”

A terse silence passed before we both launched smirks at each other, the same heinous idea forming in our minds as he pointed towards a closed clothing shop a few blocks away.

“What say you for one more heist this evening? It won’t be as grandiose as the previous ones, I’m afraid.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

. . .

Your ass looks nice in that.

Yeah? I’m taking this one then.

...Well?

Your ass always looks great, Arman.

So you’re saying mine looks better? Thanks.

Wear a skirt and then we’ll talk.

Oh, Sonya, just watch and learn.

. . .

I leaned against a street light, scrutinising our target club while waiting for my partner to finish finding the ‘perfect outfit’ as he called it, his words not mine. In the end, I settled for a wine coloured fitted dress with a criss-cross pattern exposing my back, a black corset on top, a semi transparent blazer for my shoulders, and then I picked out simple knee length combat boots—in case the deal goes awry and we had to flee.

Hearing footsteps behind me, I peeked over and my jaw dropped as soon as I laid eyes on Arman.

He was wearing a skin tight turtleneck black dress, showing off his lean but toned figure, a beautiful velvet burgundy blazer that looked amazing on his broad shoulders and then his shoes were thick polished combat boots, almost same as mine, the only difference was his heels were an inch higher, making him look taller than he normally is.

I whistled in pure awe, “Damn, Island in the Sun is about to get a whole lot hotter.”

A smug expression graced his handsome features when he walked past me, swaying his ass deliberately, “Told you so,”

I huffed at his haughty but rightfully placed attitude and caught up to him, looping an arm around his, “Well, won’t you tell me—am I your designated arm candy or are you mine?”

“Why can’t we just be both?”

We toned down the volume of our conversation when we neared the establishment, Arman breaking off as he walked up to the main entrance. It was as we expected, one of the large bouncers blocked him immediately and then pointed to the side towards the long line of people waiting for their own turn.

Arman straightened his shoulders and crossed his arms, “We have an appointment with your employer.”

The bouncer examined my partner from head to toe, not looking the least convinced although the second after, he pressed a button on his collar, “Can you direct me to the boss’ line?”

“Hey!” A voice shouted off to the side where the line was, “Wait in line like the rest of—”

I whirled on whoever was speaking and gave them my most vicious glare, that person stopped in the middle of their sentence and then promptly averted their eyes. I scoffed at them.

“Boss, there’s two individuals here that say they have an appointment with you.” The bouncer said, nodding while listening to his receiver and then finally turned back to Arman, “I apologise but the boss doesn’t have any more appointments for tonight.”

Arman took this information calmly and then leaned in, a hand covering his lips as he whispered something to the bouncer, keeping his voice as quiet as possible.

The bouncer’s eyes widened, stared at Arnan and me before ultimately stepping aside, handing us two glowing yellow bracelets, “I’m sorry for the delay, the boss is expecting you.”

My partner brightened and accepted the bracelets, holding me by my wrist as he ushered us past the main entrance. Still confused about the whole ordeal, I reluctantly put on the accessory without saying a word, the bracelet giving a weird sting when it made contact with my skin, and then followed Arman inside.

“What was that?” I asked the moment we’re left alone.

“Did you forget why we’re here?” He quipped back cheerfully and the realisation struck me later than I would have liked.

“...What do you think this is for?” I changed the subject to both our glowing bracelets, raising mine to my eye level just to get a good look at it.

“I don’t know. Gimmicks?” Arman absently rubbed his, faintly knotting his eyebrows and then started inspecting the empty hallway we were walking through, “For a club named Island in the Sun, it doesn’t seem very hot.”

We reached the end of the hallway and the doors opened upon sensing us, revealing another set of corridors, three to be exact that split into different directions: There was muffled music coming from our right, while there’s really faint sounds of people chattering to the left, and then nothing from the one ahead of us.

I took a step towards the middle corridor, figuring it was where we needed to go but Arman blocked an arm in my way, “Don’t you want to check out the other rooms? We might as well explore before we get kicked out after our appointment.”

My expression definitely disapproved of the idea and he could see that, although I think I might’ve surprised him when I agreed to his request, “No more than five minutes.”

His grey orbs gleamed with excitement, “I’ll go this way,” he pointed to the right, “Take the left.” With that said, Arman pivoted and headed for the direction with the music, and I walked towards the left corridor.

The doors were glass so I’d seen what was inside while waiting for them to open.

I scrunched my brows in bewilderment at what awaited me. The room was massive so to say and furthermore, it has a second floor filled with—What were those? There were these weird opaque bubbles that had a hatch on the front with a keypad beside it and almost all of them were lit, vague silhouettes of people moving to and fro inside but nothing more than that.

My eyes landed on the pit with a glass dome in the centre, a couple of people were lounging on long circular couches whilst socialising with each other. I was so focused on the bizarre scene that I didn’t notice the doors sliding open and the cyborg standing off to the side, making me almost jump when it had announced itself.

WELCOME. WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCURE AN ISLAND?

“I---uh, what...does that mean exactly?” I awkwardly rubbed my nape, feeling the need to occupy my shaking hands as I peered up at the cyborg.

WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO DEMONSTRATE HOW OUR ISLANDS WORK?

I simply nodded and the cyborg’s eyes immediately flashed bright, projecting a hologram into the empty space between us, leaving me to watch in wonder as a 3D model of one of the bubbles appeared.

ESSENTIALLY, OUR SPHERICAL ISLANDS ARE DESIGNED TO SERVE AS ADVANCED PRIVATE SUITS FOR SPECIAL CUSTOMERS. ITS CURVED WALLS ARE BUILT-IN WITH HIGH POWERED LED SCREENS THAT LETS YOU PROJECT ANY KIND OF SCENERY YOU’D PREFER AND IT’S ALSO COMPLETE WITH FURNITURE THAT CAN SATISFY TO EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOUR NEEDS.

The holograms changed and now it showed one of those glowing bracelets.

WHILE YOU’RE INSIDE THE CLUB, WE WILL ALSO EXCLUSIVELY PROVIDE YOU WITH OUR CLUB’S HOTTEST PRODUCT TO MAKE YOUR NIGHT BETTER AND MORE ENJOYABLE.

I frowned, asking warily, “Product?”

I’M PROHIBITED TO EXPLAIN ANY FURTHER DETAILS OF THE PRODUCT. HOWEVER, YOU CAN FIND OUT FOR YOURSELF THROUGH ONE OF OUR ISLANDS, THE PIT, OR IN THE PARTY ROOM.

Something cold settled in my stomach, “The party room...it’s the room opposite this one , right?”

CORRECT. NOW, THAT YOU ARE AWARE OF OUR CLUB’S COMMODITIES, WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCURE AN ISLAND?

I shook my head, about to refuse the offer when a question crossed my mind, “...How much is one island?”

The cyborg turned off the projection and turned its gaze downwards, scanning my bracelet through its lens.

NO PAYMENT NEEDED FOR VIP CUSTOMERS.

“VIP...?” My throat dried up as I covered the bracelet on my wrist with a hand, “I...won’t be taking an island, thank you.” The cyborg merely bowed and then went back to its corner, waiting for someone new to serve.

“Shit, I have a bad feeling about this.” I said to myself, returning to the intersection from before and making my way towards the party room.

The moment the doors slid open, the music hit me and my eardrums in full blast. I winced at the intensity of it and more so at the large crowd dancing and grooving to the loud beat. It was difficult to even hear my own voice. I internally groaned, how am I supposed to find him at this rate?

Keeping my eyes sharp despite it being extremely dark and the occasional blinding strobe lights, I moved through the mob of people pressed against one another, awkwardly bumping into some people dancing and then sometimes getting pushed back. I bit my lip, refraining from picking a fight as I held on to my rapidly waning patience.

All of a sudden, someone slapped a hand to my ass and the leash briefly snapped—I quickly rounded on that person, a fist almost flying out when I saw that the hand belonged to a man a couple of inches shorter than me with a greasy sneer on his face.

“Do that again...” I fisted his shirt and followed with a violent promise, “And you’ll go home left-handed.” I threatened, my voice brimming with spite.

Once I saw the frightened understanding in his eyes, I released him and turned away. “Arman, you better show yourself right now.” I growled.

Finally, I spotted a familiar burgundy jacket behind a pillar and I set my sights on it, carelessly pushing my way through, ignoring the curses and rude remarks of the people I shoved because I have had enough of this.

I shouldn’t have to search for him.

As I got closer to the pillar, I only noticed then that he was making out with someone. Oh you’re dead. My fingers shot out to grab the shoulder of the man I’ve been searching for, ready to cuss at him till his ears fall off.

“Oi! What the fuck happened to five minutes?!”

I halted as I met face to face with a stranger, and not at all my partner, “A-ah, I’m sorry I thought you were—“ My eyes flicked towards the person standing beside them.

“Arman!” I shouted, obviously relieved to see him alright but then remembered I was still pissed off, “What the hell? I was looking all over for you!”

His eyebrows creased for a moment before a loopy smile graced his lips, “Sonya! I’m sorry, I got a bit distracted…” Arman’s gaze trailed off to the side but at the same time, he gripped the waist of the man he kissed earlier closer to his body.

I gawked at him. Honestly speechless. But then I lashed out a hand to circle around his wrist, the one with that damned bracelet, and discovered that the yellow glow was at half now.

This was their exclusive product.

I fumed as I took out a spare light from the pocket of my blazer and yanked his head down to my level, “Let me see your fucking eyes.”

I shined the light on them and noticed how bloodshot they were, his pupils were unusually blown wide. I cursed again, letting out my frustrations, “Arman, you’re blazed!”

“What?! No, no, no. I-I haven’t taken any.” He stumbled over his words, making me doubt him even more.

“Excuse me.” A new voice piped in.

I flipped my attention to Arman’s...date? Lover? Who the hell cares, I completely forgot he was even there, “Aren’t you being a bit rude? Who are you anyways?” The man asked snobbishly while squinting at me.

I glared back, a dangerous smile framing my painted lips, “I’m his girlfriend. Who are you?”

“Sonya!” Arman yelled in disbelief.

The man mouth hung open and then tried explaining himself, “I-I’m—“

I held up a finger, “You know what, I don’t give a rat’s ass.” Locking an arm around Arman’s, I pulled him away from the man and roughly dragged him across the dance floor and towards the exit.

Once we got back to the main hallway, I let him go and stared him down with my arms placed on my hips, “What was that, Arman?” I gritted out, trying to be as calm as I can without blowing a fuse.

“Give me a minute.” He panted, “It’s so damn hot, ugh.”

“What are you saying, you’ve only been in there for less than twenty minutes.” I looked at him confused but then clearly saw the heavy perspiration forming on his skin, “Hey...you’re sweating really bad.”

“I’m sorry, Sonya.” He apologised, breathing large gulps of air while leaning on the wall, “I’m sorry you had to cover for me back there.”

My gaze softened as I stood beside him, “It’s nothing…”

“I know I really screwed up for not being careful, but I swear—Sonya, I swear I didn’t take any drugs.” Arman gripped my arms, looking me wildly in the eyes.

“Don’t worry..I believe you.” I assured him, wiping the sweat off his forehead, “It might’ve been that stuck-up date of yours, did you notice him touch your bracelet while you were together?”

He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut, a deeply disturbed expression slowly contorted his features, “Yeah...Yeah, he did.”

I let out a rough exhale, controlling the rage that sweeped me off, now twice as strong, “If I ever see that fucker—“

A hand on my shoulder pulled my attention back as I faced Arman, letting him see the murderous expression on my features.

“The appointment.” He reminded me softly.

“...Right…right. Are you sure you’re okay now?”

He pushed off the wall and gave me a tiny smile that broke my heart.

“...You know, you’re giving Tilly a run for her money—I mean, showing up to a sponsor’s meeting high? Not even she has the balls to do that.”

Arman chuckled, a dark look passing his expression as he bitterly said, “I bet that they’re expecting us to attend already intoxicated.”

I hummed in agreement, “So, our first sponsor’s a drug enthusiast, huh?”

“Ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

TBC

(A/N: I WAS SUPPOSED TO INCLUDE MEETING THE BOSS BUT ITS TOO LONG wowowow, these prompts are now integrated into my story, I swear I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this—but ANYWAYS. I’m kinda living for this unhinged oc of mine, and this duo?? I had so much fun writing about theit dynamic. However sad to say, this will be the last of them for now... as it goes, i must move on to other ignored ocs PEACEEE)

[fullmetalscullyy]

a conspiracy theory - chapter 7

co-written by @snowdog49 and @jeanhaavoc

summary:  Detective Roy takes on a challenging task… To find Olivier Armstrong’s sword. However, he has a beautiful woman to distract him along the way. Will he, Jean, and Ed be able to find the sword in time, or will they succumb to the conspiracy?

warning: graphic depictions of violence

tags: conspiracy, pining, unresolved sexual tension, private detective au, royai, havolina, mystery, violence, modern au, coffee shops

rated: m | words: 5420

read on ao3

Roy left most of the lights off in the office as he sat at his desk. He could barely concentrate, but he was going to still be there when his co-workers returned. He put the radio on to fill the background and he answered a few emails. The printer fire case was still open, and he was almost ready to send the information to the client, but his arm itched to send Ed to the East and have him get some things down in that area. He would’ve normally gone, but Ed could take Winry and he could basically give them a night away. Roy couldn’t step out now. Olivier had called a few days prior and was asking the status of the case. It was urgent, she insisted. It had been going on for too long. He might have gotten it done sooner too if Riza wasn’t always on his mind. 

Roy turned in his seat and blinked at the pictures on the wall. He couldn’t just go up to one of them and accuse them, especially with who they all were. Because Olivier had chosen to not go to the police, that did place some significance on the item as well. But the question still begged to be answered: Why? With proper motive, Roy could narrow anything down. Stolen cars? Cheating spouses? Even blazing printers, the question always had been “why?” Who benefits from an old sword? 

Ling would have it as a trophy, however, he was cleared rather easily. When asked about the sword again, Olivier gave the same description, telling him to “use your eyes and look at the damn picture” in what he realized was her traditional short-tempered tone. Her patience was running thin before, he didn’t want to imagine her in another two weeks. He needed to focus on this and get it taken care of in the next two weeks. It was a stolen sword! How hard did this have to be? 

He might as well have taken down the wall of suspects. None of them had any reason at all for a sword. Bradley was a wealthy businessman in the mining industry. It wasn’t even a status symbol for him, let alone something he’d put on his mantle. He’d just have one made out of the gold he mined. Senator Raven was mostly caught in his lies, but again, what use would a sword be to him, let alone an Armstrong sword? Senator Marcoh was at the party. As innocent as he looked, he had to be taken into consideration. He teetered his head side to side as he looked at Governor Kremlin’s picture. He was a shady fellow, and when Ed called him, his staff basically told Ed that it was a waste of his time and hung up. Roy squinted at that photo. Ambassador Fu… He couldn’t forget State Representative Shou Tucker. Roy bit his lip looking at him. Not only was he completely dismissive, but he was also hard to get a hold of. There still was no clear reason behind it. Roy nodded slowly. Yoki owned one of the more prominent real estate businesses. Last he heard, Yoki’s business was having trouble with a few bad investments, and his office was full of weird antiques. Roy pointed to Yoki’s picture, tapping on it. He’d have to go back and check his office again to see if anything else seemed off about it, or better yet, have Jean have a go with him. 

Then there were also the other hundred people on his desk spreadsheet. Ed had called most of them just requesting simple information but there was nothing suspicious. Even the head of security, who only went by Scar, had not seen anything suspicious. Roy grumped. If he were a good detective, he’d find Scar’s real name. Maybe he’d do that as a side project once this was done. He was tempted to go walk around the Bradley property. Olivier probably got drunk and lost it in a bush. 

The front door creaked open and Roy turned in his chair. It was nearly 1 am. “Have fun?” 

Jean walked in with a cigarette hanging from his lips, sighing heavily. Rebecca behind him reached for the smoking stick between his lips and tossed it outside. Both looked beat. Jean’s tie was already loosened, and Rebecca slouched in her dress.

“They know how to party,” she groaned. 

“Was there a lot of dancing?” Roy joked. 

“No,” Jean shook his head. “The food was good, and the drinks were great, but once we started talking around… it was just a lot.” 

Roy leaned his hip against his desk. “Please tell me something that will make my Sunday morning one I will want to remember.” 

“Don’t tell me your date wasn’t good,” Rebecca pouted for him. 

“It went really well, but she cut it short.” 

“Uh…” Jean grimaced. “Sorry man, it’s not in your cards.” 

“She said she had to go take care of her dog.” 

“Ouch.” 

Rebecca shoved her boyfriend. 

“We did almost kiss,” Roy added as he lifted a finger with a slight grin. “Then some fucker had to come along and bump us.” 

“Bump into each other?” 

“No,” Rebecca slapped Jean with the back of her hand to his shoulder. “Almost kissed. That means they didn’t.” 

Roy shrugged with a heavy sigh. “But she said she looked forward to seeing me Wednesday morning for coffee, so I didn’t blow it, right?” 

Rebecca reached down to take her heels off. “I think you’re onto something,” she giggled. “Don’t give up hope quite yet.” 

Jean shrugged as he reached into his jacket pocket for another cigarette. “We did get some interesting details though. You’ll want to hear this.” He placed the cigarette between his lips, patting his chest for a lighter. 

“Jean!” Rebecca grabbed it from him and tossed it in the trash. 

“Damn it, Woman! I haven’t been able to smoke all night!” 

“It was just interesting,” Rebecca added. “Politicians sure have ambitions.” 

“They all stink,” Jean grumped. “They’re all damn rotten bastards.” He leaned against Rebecca’s desk. “Making my girl stand all night while they go on about selling themselves.” 

Roy raised his eyebrow at the two of them. 

Rebecca collapsed in her desk chair and spun it to face Roy. She ran her fingers through her hair. “And they talk. Talk about gossip!” 

*           *           *

Jean smirked at the doorman as they approached. The man was in a full outfit, better dressed than Jean himself, with a bow tie and a tailcoat and bright white waistcoat. It looked like it was straight out of a period piece and Jean expected nothing less from a social gathering of this caliber.

They had to look the part, so Jean ensured his suit would be acceptable. His jacket and pants were all black, but his shirt was a baby blue color. His navy silk tie complimented the shirt nicely, and also matched the colour of Rebecca’s dress.

Sneaking another glance at his girlfriend, Jean admired how stunning she was, and watched as she fished the tickets out from her purse as they continued forward. One of her hands was on his arm, so he gripped it a little tighter and gave it a squeeze to give her some more stability as she looked in her purse.

“Invitations, please,” the man requested. His tone wasn’t bored, but he also didn’t sound particularly thrilled to be there either. From what Jean could see and hear, the party was already in full swing inside. Music from a string quartet wafted their way through the open door, accompanied by the sound of conversation. It wasn’t too loud, but the murmur indicated there were a lot of people inside. If he’d been stuck on door duty when the action was inside, Jean reckoned he’d be a bit miffed too.

Rebecca lifted her head, tossing her hair over one shoulder and smiled at the greeter. Jean’s breath caught in his throat as he watched her. The dress she was wearing was a deep navy blue, clinging to all the right places. It stopped mid-calf, showing off her toned legs as she stood in her heels - a blue that matched her dress. The skirt swayed gently as she moved and it was hypnotizing. Just like her. He hadn’t been permitted to see what she was wearing before tonight, she’d just sent him a picture of the tie he would be wearing and told him to find a suit to match it. And boy, was he knocked off his feet as soon as he set eyes upon her. He was still trying to recover.

The man stamped their tickets and wished them a good night, already waving to usher the couple behind them forward.

Sharing a look, Jean and Rebecca stepped inside the lion’s den.

The main room was beautifully decorated. There was a noticeably clear theme tonight, and that was gold. All decorations had a hint of gold to them. The countless vases of flowers that were spread out everywhere were full of white and gold hydrangeas. Even the white flowers had flecks of gold glitter sprinkled over them. There were four ice sculptures designed in the shape of man, one in each corner of the room, each wearing a golden sash across their torso. Jean seriously hoped they weren’t modelled after their host. He wouldn’t put it past King Bradley to go as flashy with something like this.

“Over here.” Rebecca tugged on his arm and guided him over to the bar. Getting a drink right away sounded like a good idea. Looking around the room, Jean thought he would need some alcohol to get through a night dealing with these people. Rebecca ordered a strawberry daiquiri while Jean went with a rum and coke. There was no beer here, to his dismay. He had to blend in anyway and hard alcohol would loosen him up. 

“Oh boy,” Jean muttered over the top of the glass, immediately taking a sip. He glanced around the room one last time, already mentally preparing himself for trying to mingle with these people. While he would absolutely love to treat Rebecca to a fancy date like this, perhaps he would reconsider that idea. A night where he and Rebecca lay on a picnic blanket somewhere quiet with some beer and good food was a lot more appealing than this song and dance.

“I know, right?” Rebecca snickered. “This will be interesting.”

“I’m just excited to do some snooping,” he grinned. “People watching will be fun tonight.”

“I agree. Work first, then we can have some fun later,” she whispered in his ear with a suggestive look as she walked away from him. Jean followed behind like a lost puppy.

Confidently, Rebecca strode towards a group of ladies all talking together. Jean watched as she boldly introduced herself. She turned and introduced him too, causing him to close the distance between them as quickly and gracefully as he could. Rebecca was a natural in a situation like this. She sounded as fake as the ladies before them, but they ate it up. Jean knew she liked to gossip and was sometimes how he and Roy got some of their information for cases. She was an expert at finding out the word on the street. Rebecca Catalina had a way of getting words out of people so easily that it could be frightening.

Jean plastered a fake smile on his face as he wrapped his arms around his girlfriend’s shoulders. He’d spied some men making eyes at her out the corner of his eye and didn’t like it. It reminded him of his own job and kissed her cheek to part ways, whispering a promise of meeting up with her again later.

Meandering around the room, Jean spotted a familiar face he could easily talk to. Representative Falman. He’d worked with him before and Jean had a lot of respect for the man. All his work was done by the book and to the letter, with the best interests of the people in mind. Plus, he was always friendly.

“Mr. Havoc,” he greeted. It wasn’t unfriendly by any means. His tone was dry as one corner of his mouth lifted up into a smirk. And Jean appreciated the fact Falman had left out his work title. “It’s good to see you again.” Holding out his hand, Jean shook it firmly.

“Likewise, Mr. Falman.”

He waved his hand in the air. “Just Vato or Falman tonight, please,” he replied. “It’s bad enough my presence is required here.” His voice was quiet, so no one overheard him, but it caused Jean to laugh. “Let’s just drop the pretences.”

“Not a problem.”

“You’re behaving yourself I hope?” he inquired.

“I always do,” Jean quipped. “When do I not?”

Falman snorted, but it just made Jean grin. 

“I’ve got my lady here with me tonight.” Jean glanced over towards the group she was still talking to. If the ladies’ animated and excited expressions were anything to go by, Rebecca was excelling in her work tonight. “So she’s keeping me right.”

He hummed to himself. “I sure hope so.” A pointed look was shot Jean’s way.

In response, Jean lifted his hands up in surrender. “Of course. All of my motivations are completely innocent. I’m just here to mingle with Central’s best.”

Falman shook his head with an amused smile. “Central’s best?”

Jean cocked his head in thought. “Elite, then. That’s probably a better word choice.”

“Well, one thing’s for sure, they certainly know how to throw the most extravagant parties,” Falman mused.

“Definitely,” he agreed. Jean cast his eyes around the room. “Everything is very… gold. It makes me wonder where they get the money for such fancy decorations.”

“Careful where you cast that thought, Havoc,” Falman warned. He took another sip of his drink, looking subtly around him.

Jean just shrugged. “I’m just thinking out loud. There’s no harm in that.”

“True. Bradley has more than enough money,” the Representative murmured. “Although…” Falman trailed off, glancing around once more. “If he didn’t send so much money to a particular Senator, maybe he wouldn’t need a fundraiser for this program and for his other projects out in the west.” Another pointed look was shot Jean’s way as Falman took a sip of his drink.

“Oh?” Jean asked innocently. If there was some kind of strong connection between Bradley and this Senator, this could be useful information for their case. It may not be, but if Falman was willing to part with it this easily, Jean wasn’t going to turn it down.

However, someone called for the room’s attention, ending their conversation for now. The strings stopped playing and a sea of heads turned to face the source of the interruption. A man who was dressed like a butler announced from the opposite end of the room that dinner was about to be served in the dining room and asked if all guests could make their way through there.

“It was a pleasure to speak to you again, Havoc,” Falman stated. He held out his hand for Havoc to shake, which he did so as he hid his disappointment. The announcement had come at such an inopportune time. 

“Likewise, Falman. I hope to speak to you soon.”

He hummed in reply. “A little bird tells me we may cross paths in the future.” With one last pointed glance at Havoc, Falman moved away from him, heading towards the dining area.

Bird… Senator Raven. It could be a stretch, but from Falman’s clues, Bradley could be contributing towards Raven’s campaign or his other special interests. The information about the west must be important. If it was, judging by his hushed revelation and quick exit, Representative Falman was taking a risk with a comment like that. Jean noted it and shelved it for later. He knew better than to press further than what Falman would freely give him. 

Mulling over this new information and what it could mean, Jean walked over towards Rebecca. She was still talking to the same group of women.

“Oh, you must come and find us after dinner,” Jean heard as one lady gushed. “I would love to speak to you some more!”

“Of course,” Rebecca replied brightly. Jean tried not to laugh at her fake smile. “I can’t wait!”

Despite her more common way of speaking, the ladies weren’t phased. They smiled and dispersed, going off to find their significant others so they could be seated.

“You got them wrapped around your finger? That’s impressive,” Jean commented.

“They’re probably bitching about me behind my back already,” she snickered. “I purposefully didn’t play up the snooty attitude or accent. They were sympathetic because of it.”

“Yeah?” Jean asked as he scoured the board in front of him to see where they should sit. He didn’t see their names anywhere.

“There,” Rebecca pointed out softly, seeing the kid’s surname, Yao, by two seats. “And yeah. I clearly wasn’t born into money if I’ve got a more common way of speaking, so they take pity on me. They let their guard down,” she shrugged.

Jean just stared at her as she walked ahead.

“Have I mentioned how incredible you are,” he murmured lowly in her ear. He caught back up and reached for her hand, gripping it tightly.

Rebecca giggled next to him. “Not recently, but I won’t be opposed to hearing it again,” she teased with a twinkle in her eye.

“Just wait until later then. I’ll show you,” he almost growled.

Rebecca laughed quietly to herself. “Later? At the office?”

Jean simpered. Roy was going to be at the office. He’d have to wait even later than that. 

The rest of the seats at their table began to fill up quickly, the guests eager for their dinner. Rebecca sat to Jean’s left, while six other people began filling in the spaces around. The centrepieces of the circular table were just as beautiful as the ones outside in the main room. However, these flowers were white, sprinkled with gold flakes. Little golden beads covered the table as a decoration, adding a splash of colour to the plain white cloth beneath it. While simple in looks, it felt rich to the touch. The silky texture ran through Jean’s fingers easily.

Once everyone was seated, the same butler from moments ago called the attention of the room to him.  “Ladies and Gentleman, King Bradley.”

Bradley rose from his chair as people applauded. Jean and Rebecca shot each other a look, then quickly joined in. King Bradley was a formidable-looking man. He was tall and stood straight. His posture made him look taller than he actually was. He commanded complete attention, and the majority of the people in the room were eager to give it. With one eye covered by an eyepatch, his gaze was hard as he looked around the room, noting with interest all the faces he saw. He didn’t so much as glance in Jean’s direction, or towards their table.

“Thank you everyone for coming tonight. With this dinner, we aim to fundraise enough money for an engineering exchange program with Aerugo, so we may send some of our brightest minds to the country in return for some of theirs. This is a project dear to my heart, as well as my company’s.”

Jean resisted the urge to snort derisively. Bradley had more than enough money to donate to this cause and still make a hell of a profit by the end of it. He’d done a little digging beforehand and discovered that all the engineering students being sent were from his own company. So, he was getting his friends and other government officials to pay for only his company to benefit from the rewards. Still, rich people love a philanthropist, even a pretend one like Bradley tonight.

“With this program, we will be furthering our engineering capabilities within the country and after this test run, we may be able to open it up to other students from around the country.” He unclasped his hands from behind his back and reached for his glass. “I humbly ask if you could give generously tonight to support the next generation of engineers.” Lifting his glass, people began to clap again animatedly. “Enjoy dinner!”

Dinner itself was exquisitely presented. The portions were small, but the food was so rich that by the end of the five-course meal, Jean had eaten enough. He took a drink of the free water provided in a pitcher to wash it all down with. The water was cool on his throat, infused with a hint of lemon.

“Jean, this is Senator Marcoh,” Rebecca introduced after dinner, her eyes widening only slightly as she tried to convey that this was important. She’d been conversing with him throughout dinner, while Jean spoke to the gentleman beside him. “Did you know he’s spearheading a campaign to try and protect our green spaces?”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir,” Jean replied. He settled in his chair comfortably so he could give the Senator his full attention. 

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Havoc. And yes, I am,” Marcoh replied.

“Jean is in the agricultural business,” Rebecca lied smoothly. “We’re based in the west. And… your campaign concerns the west, doesn’t it?” she enquired.

“It does,” Marcoh confirmed. “I just want to protect our environment, that’s all.”

“That’s very admirable, Senator Marcoh,” Jean told him sincerely. “And it’s much appreciated by people like myself. Agriculture cannot thrive with no land for it.”

“Exactly,” Marcoh replied. He leaned forward eagerly. “The east is well known for its farmland, and rightly so, however it's the silty soil from our border with Creta that makes the west more bountiful for a harvest. People tend to forget that. That’s why so many factories are set up in the west.” He dropped his gaze, looking slightly crestfallen. Despite their goal here tonight, Jean could clearly see that this man was deeply passionate about his job and his cause. 

“Well, you have our support, Senator,” Rebecca replied.

“Absolutely,” Jean chipped in. And he meant that sincerely.

Rebecca excused herself to go to the bathroom. So did Marcoh, so he could go and mingle with other guests. While alone, Jean looked around the room, observing people. The majority had left their seats and were moving between the other tables. Some had formed crowds and were standing in free spaces, laughing, and drinking with one another. In the far end of the room, by the door they’d entered through, he spotted Falman and Marcoh leaving together.

Bradley was still sitting at the main table. He was deep in conversation with Senator Raven. The other men at the table were all listening intently, but not joining in on their conversation. Jean narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing them. Governor Kremlin was there, with Shao Tucker and Yoki on either side of him. Those were the only people he recognized. There was no one from the Armstrong family though.

He caught movement out the corner of his eye, seeing Rebecca walking towards him. He’d been prepared to turn away, continuing his observations, but his breath caught in his throat. From the angle he was sitting at, Jean noticed how the light of the room made her hair shimmer, almost turning it copper. The simple silver necklace caught the light as she turned to her side, placing something back in her purse. As she looked back up, tossing her hair over her shoulder, her face softened when her eyes settled upon Jean. A silly grin spread across his face.

“Like what you see?” she purred after sitting down. It didn’t help his situation that she’d leaned in close with a hand resting high up on his thigh, whispering in his ear.

“Very much so,” he beamed.

“Maybe there will be time for a later,” she mused, leaning back, and giving him a once over with her eyes. She’d praised how well he’d scrubbed up earlier, but it was still nice to be so clearly appreciated. He’d made an extra effort just for her.

“Shirking work duties?” he teased.

“I meant after going back to the office.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief and Jean couldn’t wait.

He laughed, making her giggle too. “I love you,” he murmured.

Rebecca beamed and leaned in close, giving him a quick kiss.

“Hear anything exciting while I was gone?”

Jean shook his head. “Nothing. Just did some lookin’ around.”

She made a show of her shoulders slumping as she pouted. Then, she straightened her spine and rolled her shoulders back. “Ready for showtime?”

Jean nodded. “You did it?”

“I ‘dropped’ it just over there,” she muttered, angling her head away from the room so no one could see what she was saying. “I was ‘fixing’ my purse and left it on that table.”

Cocking his head, Jean pretended he was considering what she’d said, but in reality, he was looking past her. The bracelet was sitting there, next to a vase of gold flowers. It was in plain view, so he made sure to always keep that table in his line of vision.

Not even ten minutes later, a young man approached the table.

“We might have a bite,” he murmured. Leaning forward in his chair, Jean felt himself coiled like a spring. He was ready to stand and move if that bracelet disappeared.

The man took it.

“Hooked. Black hair. Glasses. Black suit. Dressed a bit like a penguin.”

Rebecca stood from her chair gracefully and turned. Her head turned towards the young man who slipped the bracelet into his pocket. He looked around, looking a little unsure of himself, then began to walk towards the entrance. Rebecca began to walk as Jean slowly got to his feet, casually pretending he was going to follow after her at his own pace.

The young man walked through a service door and Rebecca followed close behind.

“Excuse me, Sir,” she called. The guy got a fright, turning in place. Jean noted just how young he looked as he walked through the door. “You’ve got something of mine.”

“Oh, no, I -”

“The bracelet,” Rebecca challenged, holding her hand out to receive it as her other crossed her chest. She didn’t look impressed as she stared him down. “You took it.”

“No, I didn’t -” he stammered.

“You did,” Jean interrupted. His command left no room for argument. 

“Sorry!” He scrambled for his pants pocket. “I didn’t try to steal it, I promise,” he stuttered. “I saw it lying around and picked it up to put it in our lost property. I work here.”

“Sure you do,” Jean challenged, not believing him.

“Look, here’s your bracelet.” With shaking hands, the man dropped it into Rebecca’s waiting hand. She took it back and placed it inside her purse. “And I promise, I do work here. Look.” He handed over his ID.

Jean glanced at it, noting that he did in fact work there. Kain Fuery. It might be worth looking into him, just to be sure this wasn’t a fake ID.

“I always like to keep a log of lost items,” Kain explained further. “Many of them don’t seem to be missed, but still, it would be a shame for someone to lose a piece of jewelry, so I was on my way to log it.”

Jean just narrowed his eyes at him.

“Thank you,” Rebecca cut in. “So, you work for Bradley?”

He nodded. “Yes Ma’am. I’m part of the Events Team, drafted in whenever there’s a dinner or a fundraiser.”

“Were you at Selim Bradley’s birthday party a few weeks ago?”

Kain nodded. “I was. I was working the floor as a waiter that night.”

“Seeing as you're the man to see about missing items, I don’t suppose you noticed a sword passing by, did you? Or did you pick it up and log that too?”

“A sword?” he echoed. “I… I don’t ever remember seeing a sword lying around. Ms. Olivier Armstrong carries a sword on her though, perhaps you could ask her?”

“If you saw a sword like that, would you go through the same process of logging it as you would with a bracelet?” Jean asked.

He nodded. “I would. It would be recorded, but I would probably recognize it as hers anyway. There’s no one else I know who carries a sword on their person.”

“Havoc.”

Turning sharply, he and Rebecca noticed Falman standing at the doorway they’d followed Kain through. He didn’t look impressed.

“Time to go,” he stated. His tone left no room for argument.

“Give us a call if you hear about a sword,” Jean told Kain. He pressed his card into the young man’s unresisting hands and turned to leave.

“I told you to behave,” Falman warned once they were outside. The area was quiet. No one was about.

“I am,” Jean shrugged.

“You’re just lucky I saw you and no one else did,” he replied, putting emphasis on the end of his statement. Meaning Bradley didn’t see Jean and Rebecca questioning his staff.

“We were claiming a lost item,” Jean retorted, gesturing towards Rebecca who was gliding the bracelet back onto her wrist. “Kain graciously picked it up for us.”

Falman sighed. “The party is that way,” he reminded them, gesturing to his right. His arm remained outstretched, expecting them to move to rejoin the fundraiser.

Grasping Rebecca’s hand tightly, they both rejoined the party.

“He seemed genuine,” she murmured.

“I agree. He didn’t seem the type to steal a sword, let alone a sword from the Armstrongs. Too young and innocent.”

“A ruse…?” Rebecca ventured, then shook her head. “No, he didn’t look like he’d have it in him to face the wrath of Olivier Armstrong. He was shaking like a leaf.”

He purposefully steered them over to the bar. He needed another drink.

“Another one?” Rebecca commented. “We’re working, remember?”

“I know, but there’s been a lot of information overload tonight, and maybe I want to relax and spend the rest of a lovely evening with you,” he smiled tiredly. His brain was on the way to becoming fried, and he just wanted to unwind for a little while before diving headfirst back into the shark infested waters. Jean leaned his elbows on the bar and rubbed his face in exhaustion.

“It has been a lot.” She bit her lip. “And we’ve got a long way to go yet…”

The barman asked for their order, and Rebecca got herself another daiquiri and Jean a rum with coke.

“Seeing as you can’t smoke in here,” she winked, handing over his double measure of rum. “We’ll get there,” she added, her voice firm. Her hand rubbed his back, in between his shoulder blades. “You guys are good. Really good! You’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”

Jean shot her a grateful smile.

“Case first though,” she replied. “We’ll report back what we overheard and saw tonight and we’ll all go through it together. We’ll work it out.”

“And… later?” Jean asked, voice hopeful.

Rebecca smirked at him over the top of her cocktail glass. The sultry look in her eyes made his stomach flutter.

“Oh yes, there will definitely be a later.”

“Maybe,” Jean whispered, moving to stand so close he could whisper in her ear. He grinned when it made her shiver. “Later… We could...” He paused at her intake of breath and his grin turned wolfish.

*           *           *

Roy tipped forward on the seat hurriedly. “I do not need to hear any more of what you said to Rebecca,” he interjected.

The two of them just laughed.

“Back to this Kain Fuery, I think we should go back and talk to him. What do you want to bet that he knows but couldn’t remember at the time?” 

“He was pretty scared,” Rebecca argued. “I honestly think he was too freaked out that he got caught. He seemed earnest and innocent enough.” 

Jean nodded in agreement. “I hate to say it Roy, but I got chills when I noticed none of the Armstrongs were there. I got bigger chills when Falman was so adamant about telling me that Bradley was funding Raven. It was very hush hush.” Jean bit his lip. “I think… this could turn into something a little bit more than just a sword.”

“I was afraid of that,” Roy replied, his tone grim.

[floraone]

(Attempts At) Discreet Kisses

@augustmoon2, here's your second one :)

-

"Shhhhh," Mamoru hushed into her mouth, trying to swallow all her moans, even when his hands wouldn't stop their torturous journey across her blouse and navy skirt and his teeth captured her lower lip between his in that way that would always make her whimper.

She tried to. She really did. She tried to stay quiet by all means. 

But then his lips and teeth were back at her throat and his hands on her butt and his mouth was sucking on the tender flesh behind her ear in that way that made her dissolve in his arms and also make a lot of noise. 

He hushed her again, and the whole purikura booth rattled when he lifted her up and set her on the white plastic alcove next to the camera and lights, and when he pulled her to him, hands around her thighs, lifting them so she would wrap them around him, it was him who moaned against her throat.

"Shhhh," Usagi repeated with mirth in her voice that just turned into another mewl.

Hiding in Crown was fairly easy, to be fair. Tons of places to discreetly hide away. They'd done way worse than this lately. 

Fooling around in purikura booths on quiet days at the Crown was one thing. They'd snogged in changing rooms in Shibuya 109, in one of the segregated booths at her favorite Chicken Yakitori chain restaurants, that one glorious time the metro car had been empty except for the two of them - those were all the relatively tame ones. But at Hikawa? Her high school festival last week? In her bed with Luna sleeping in the room? They were getting careless and staying discreet was getting harder and harder and one day they'd get caught and Mamoru would remember why he actually tended to die at even the thought of PDA and all this adventurous, hormonal madness would stop and she would mourn it for the rest of her life.

So she grabbed him by the hair and reclaimed his shuddering, swollen mouth and kissed him a little harder, clamping her legs around him tightly. 

Usagi was fairly certain that nothing would ever be as exciting as the phase she and Mamoru were currently going through. It couldn’t. No way. 

Something had clicked. Something was… happening. Now. Soon. Eventually. Something like that. For all this fooling around, they hadn’t done it yet. But it was close, so, so close, she could feel it in her bones - and so could he. Sometimes he was trembling when she touched him. It was intoxicating. Addicting. She needed more. She needed all. She couldn’t wait. 

Except she could. In fact, nothing seemed sweeter than drawing this out, whatever this magic was. Endlessly, forever. She was content to savour this for every last drop.

After years of chaste, rated-for-all-audiences, always-pjs-wearing, oftentimes-their-future-daughter-was-around-for-god’s-sake, sweet normalcy, something had suddenly snapped. Suddenly, Galaxia behind them, they were ready, or so it seemed.

Suddenly those make-out sessions wouldn’t end, suddenly, when she was pressed into his couch for way longer than a single kiss, his hands were everywhere, his lips were too, and she loved nothing more than the feeling of his clothed hips pressing against hers because holy damn.

Heated, endless, sometimes hour-long make-out sessions. Even if very few clothes would fall (though it surprised her how still everything could be touched), it felt like she was drunk and high and addicted and she couldn’t stop.

Nowadays, he was mostly panting harshly, his hair was mostly tangled and disheveled by her hands, his eyes that half-lidded, impatient-yet-savoring intensity, his lips forever swollen and sometimes, the best times, his mouth was entirely and deliciously smeared  with her lipstick that blotted all the way down to his collarbone.

She felt on top of the world. To think they could have been doing this for years?

"We shou--" He was cut off by her lips following his and he slid them back across hers wetly with a pained sigh before he tried again. "We should get back soon, they'll wonder where--"

The rest of the sentence was never uttered, he forgot what he wanted to say when Usagi's mouth found his earlobe and her hands slipped into the back pocket of his jeans and squeezed. 

They did stop, eventually. Every hair out of place, his lips especially so swollen they looked painful. 

The girls just rolled their eyes, resumed their conversation except for Minako, who threw them a wink as Usagi slipped in next to her.

"So, I'm guessing there was a long line?" Minako snickered when they re-joined them at their booth, dramatically sweeping her eyes across the almost deserted arcade. 

"Mhmm. And then the machine wouldn't work," Usagi threw at Minako with a little smirk and stole a fry from her. 

"Right. They're broken awfully often for you," Minako commented with her own smirk, and Mamoru blushed, got up abruptly, and walked to the counter to order, hands in his hair to try and tame the disaster.

"Yup, it's absolutely awful. We're cursed."

Minako snickered. "I bet."

She could get so, so, so used to this.

[shoezuki]

So this is the second time im writin this shit out but. I been thinkin a shou n ritsu bein nonbinary A Lot so im gonna write it again but uh

Heres some nonbinary shou n ritsu hcs cuz why not

Shou his Whole Damn Life was Very defiant of any like. Gender based expectations and the 'girls do this guys do that' bullshit

Didnt have any support from his parents. Didnt know the Vocabulary for how he was feelin, his identity

You Know touichirou wouldnt know Any trans terms and identities fuck that cishet

Shou always Knew he wasnt a boy. More in a sense of 'im just shou' and leavin it at that most his childhood. He had other things to worry about

Wasny until after the world domination arc that shou Really had the mental space and time to consider himself more

Hes never been Uncomfortable being seen as a boy, per se. More because He knows who he is, hes sure of himself, thats what matters

He doesnt fuck w labels. Doesnt give a shit what pronouns r used for him. Just refers to himself as Nonbinary cuz he doesnt Feel like hed need to fit himself into a more specific label, that his gender or how he Feels bout it changes

At some point just got used to doing 'boy' things cuz thats what touichirou expected of him and like. Was Very Adamant on shou 'acting like a boy'

One day shou is just hanging out post wd arc, and he is just like 'wait a fucking second'

Queue shou having a pink phase. Hair pink. Nails always painted. All kinds of sparkly hair clips. Makeup and skirts. He starts messin round w what he wants to wear and how he wants to present himself and expression

Doesnt consider himself to be Masculine or Feminine. He doesnt fuck w that. What he wears and does is just Things he Likes. Him wearin skirts isnt Girly. Or him wearin scuffed up sneakers isnt Boyish. Its Him

As i said before. Pronouns are Whatever. But serizawa has had to calm shou doen Many times if someone specifically refers to him as a 'boy' or a 'girl'. He is willing to get into scraps for that without a doubt

Serizawa and later Ritsu are the Only ones to really Know hes nonbinary

Moreso he just doesnt care or ser a point in like. Explicitly Coming Out to ppl. He things its unnecessary. So if its not brought up casually, he says nothing bout it

OH and shou didnt come out to ritsu until like. Two months into them dating

And it was like. A Realization one day. That ritsu Probably thinks he's dating a boy. Esp since ritsu is gay. And that Bothers Him

Ofc hes not gonna like. Let it Show that it bothers him

So the whole Coming Out thing was nasically like. They were having one of their Videogame Nights. Its late as all hell. Ritsu is gettin his ass kicked half asleep beside a rabid shou.

Hou just blurts out like 'oh by the way im not a boy im nonbinary so like. Yeah'

Shou voice: oh cool thats out and done cool

Ritsu voice: wait a second hold on hold on HIM TOO????

And like. Ritsu fuckin Freezes. Absolutely shocked. Pauses the game and looks at shou like "oh my god im not a boy either"

Queue a lot of screaming, loud yellin, things flying round the room, ritsu's parents losin their shit, the works

For ritsu being nb and Realizin hes nb was really different

He knew from the get go he wasnt a girl. As soon as he could he rejected 'girly' things and bein labeled as a girl

His family, as Soon As he said 'im not a girl', they were like 'oh okay son :)' and supported him

But like. Even tho ritsu was definitely more comfortable w masculinity n being seen as and called a Boy it still didnt 100% feel right

But again. Motherfuckers dont talk bout nonbinary genders (assholes....) so he didnt have the Words to say how he was feelin. Plus trying to argue that No he Wasnt a boy completely would get his parents confused

It seemed to him it was Either youre a Boy or a Girl so he chose boy.

Even when he looked into it himself, never really Vocalized his identity. Wouldnt even refer to himself as nonbinary in privacy. Didnt come out to his parents or brother

Ritsu is a demiboy, altho im not 100% sure on what identity and amd considerin maybe he'd be bigender? Hmmmm

He Did put a lot of thought into it. More so like 'im going to do this and wear that and express myself like this when i move out' kind of thinking

Like. He put A Lot of thought into his gender

Doesnt mind being seen as a boy. Its more comfy. He goes by he/him and they/them.

When shou came out to him it was the Wildest thing for them. Ritsu never knew anyone else to be nonbinary. Shou technically knew minegishi but he couldnt hold a convo w them without staring at their lack of eyebrows and gettin weirded out by it

'So if youre gay And nonbinary does that mean you only like other nonbinary people? Or like. Is that how you found me ritsu? You were drawn in by my wicked good looks and nonbinary vibes?' Ritsu, who has spent nights awake wondering just this 'i like boys and nonbinary ppl dipshit'

They really help each other open up about their genders. Like shou becomes more vocal about Not Being A Boy, even if its just w jokes. And ritsu feels so much more at ease. Somethin about havin the fact that Hes Nonbinary exist somewhere else outside of Just his mind is warm feeling

Gender Talks between them contain a lot of 'oh my god ME TOO' and 'oh wow same???'