#technically both r just implied but shrug

[apsap]

[ID: (Furries) Alyx and Barney stand beside each other, both looking bored. Barney is drinking something, and Alyx is reading something.

A: what kind of flowers does Gordon like

B: he's not a flowers kind of guy

A: maybe he just didn't like the flowers you got him specifically

B: rich coming from the kid who doesn't know what a daffodil is

A: (cut off) shut up /end ID]

[s-brant]

Cherry Bowl (3/8)

(gif: @kiekiecarrera) (PART TWO) (PART FOUR) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: When Kie cancels their plans together, Y/N asks JJ on a date to the Cherry Bowl Drive-In. Unsure of how to navigate his first ever date, JJ seeks out advice. Unfortunately, the night doesn’t go as planned, and both parties are left shaken by miscommunication.

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Smut, public sex/exhibitionism, sexual choking, angst, depictions of mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, and implied/referenced abuse.

A/N: Welcome back to Tokens! Slight trouble in paradise is brewing for these two lovers, so buckle up and read because it’s gonna be a rollercoster for a little while after what happens in this chapter. I hope you all like it, and if you did, feedback is very appreciated. Have fun!

"I'm just saying that oatmeal raisin is superior to chocolate chip, why is that such an egregious crime, Kie?"

The lunch room is filled to the brim with students going to town on questionably cooked frozen foods, soggy tater tots, and sugary drinks from the vending machines despite the Obama-era posters on the walls advocating for healthier school lunches that never seemed to make their way to Kildare County High. The extent of their healthy lunches extended to a serving of overcooked canned green beans served with the worst slice of doughy pizza known to human kind, so it was sort of contradictory.

Y/N sits across the table from Pope and JJ, the latter of which being the one who launched into a full-fledged debate with Kiara about which type of cookie was better.

The clear cling wrap sits, unfolded, on the table with one of her stickers neatly placed on the back of it. As consolation for his epic loss yesterday at the beach, she paid an extra .75 cents to get him it when she arrived first to their shared lunch period—one of only two class periods they have together, the other being gym. He was still in line when she peeled a surfboard sticker off of her sheet and placed it at the center of the wrapped up cookie as if to remind him of her triumph over him in the waves.

"Thanks, hot stuff," he said, voice somewhat quieter despite the fact that hardly anyone was in the cafeteria with them. Then his smile dropped into an deadpan expression as soon as he saw her choice of sticker and looked back up at her. "You're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"Never in a million years. I'll be gloating about it until I'm elderly."

"That's my girl."

The sound of the constant chatter surrounding them from at least two hundred other people drowns out the memories of yesterday that threaten to haunt her when she watches him debate with Kie. The mere recollection of their night in the back of the van has her reaching to pull the collar of her cropped tee up to assure that the hickeys remain hidden on instinct, and he catches the action out of the corner of his eye. It has him fighting a smile.

Kie quips, "Maybe on another planet, but, here, I think we can all agree chocolate chip is better, right Y/N?"

Y/N's eyes widen around a forkful of mushy "green beans" at the sound of her name being said bringing her from the depths of her memories.

Usually, she's quick to jump in and give her two cents on whatever stupid back and forth they're all having, but her mind was elsewhere. Unbeknownst to Kie and Pope, she was mentally reliving every second of getting fucked in the van last night, so her attention to detail when it comes to the Chocolate Chip vs Oatmeal Raisin case isn't all too sharp.

"Uhhh," she stops for a second, looking at the half eaten chocolate chip cookie in Kie's hand, "If I say chocolate chip is better, can I get a piece of it?"

Kie's face lights up at her words, and she's already pulling off a generous chunk of the baked good to hand off to her. The sound of a certain someone whose lap Y/N's legs are outstretched onto from beneath the table scoffing distracts her from the first bite.

"I know you prefer oatmeal raisin, you traitor," JJ says.

Their brunette friend's brows scrunch.

"Why is she a traitor?"

They try to keep from making any faces or giving anything away, but Y/N has to stifle the sound of her choking on her mouthful of cookie at the question. You'd think one of them came out and asked if they were dating or something with how she reacts, and she feels JJ squeeze her ankle in a non-verbal way of telling her to hold it together. It was her idea in the first place, yet he's a lot smoother with keeping it under the radar.

Under it all, the aspect of keeping it a secret does unnerve him to a degree. He doesn't think he'd be brave enough to communicate it, especially not when their relationship remains undefined, but the darker side of his mind wonders...

He shrugs, saying, "Cause we were friends first. Duh. Other than John B, I've known her the longest."

None of them stop to acknowledge the identical aches in their hearts at the mentioning of his name. They skip right over it like it never happened. After the funeral a few days ago, they've filled their quota on mushy-gushy sad talk for the next week and a half.

The real reason is something far more complicated than him having a claim staked on her loyalty through having the longest friendship. It's something tied up in days of slowly getting pulled into one another's worlds like the tug of gravity itself, in how he has to refrain from slipping his arm around her waist in the hallway or kissing her goodbye after a sleepover at the Chateau. But until she gives him the go-ahead, he won't let it slip to anyone.

Pope speaks up from beside him, "You literally met her twenty minutes before we did."

"Still counts. Technically, I did meet her first, so her betraying Team Oatmeal Raisin is enough to be tried for treason in Pogue Court."

"Pogue Court isn't a thing."

He crosses his arms after he pops the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

"It is now. You can be tried for treason for breaking the rules. Rule number one is that all Pogues have to admit oatmeal raisin is superior."

He's about to ball up the cling wrap to throw away later when the surfboard sticker catches his attention again. It's the same color as his board, which he'd like to think is a result of her being an evil mastermind that went out to get this sticker sheet for the sole purpose of teasing him, but he's the one who got her the sheet as a gift for her birthday, so he knows it was pure coincidence.

Last second, he peels the sticker away from the cling wrap and looks down to place it over the top of her yellow converse that were once a vibrant, paler color when Big John got them for her, but have since turned into an ugly mustard/dirt-dusted color they heckle her over.

"What are the other rules?" Y/N asks.

One of the hands holding onto where her feet are casually planted in his lap, something that they've done long enough that their friends won't see it as anything odd, slides down to caress the stretch of skin beneath the frayed hem of her dark jeans. Something she didn't know about him before whatever it is they have together started was that he constantly needs to be touching her. She can't say she doesn't love it though.

Pope answers, "The oatmeal raisin rule is not official"—a pointed glance at JJ—"But I'd assume the rest of the rules of Pogue Court would be no lying and no macking."

"So, basically you two break almost every rule except the oatmeal raisin one, and I lie," JJ says and turns to look at her, "How does it feel to be better than everyone, Y/N?"

"Pretty good, not gonna lie."

He keeps caressing little circles and tracing up and down her skin beneath the flared out pant leg of her jeans while he swipes his phone off of the table top without attracting the attention of their friends, who continue on to a new topic. She isn't too focused on what it is. She only picks up that it has something to do with a class they're in that's more advanced that hers, so she promptly checks out of the conversation.

Ever since John B died, she hasn't been performing too well in school. She tries, truly tries, but her mind outright refuses to absorb any of the information. When she reads her assigned reading, she hovers over the same paragraphs over and over until she shuts the book in a huff and hides it in her backpack again. Losing someone you love has a surprising amount of side effects.

Her phone buzzing in her hand brings her away from the impending cloud of doom that often accompanies any thoughts of John B, and when she taps in her passcode, her brother's birthday, a message bubble appears with a banner displaying JJ's contact name.

JJ (Derogatory) ur a good liar. prob could've fooled me if i weren't the one macking on u

Their eyes meet for a second across the table, then he watches her thumbs move to type a response.

Kief Princess Little do they know I break every rule now that I've switched sides on the cookie debate. Kinda impressive ngl.

JJ (Derogatory) triple threat, baby

JJ (Derogatory) thanks for the cookie btw

She smiles to herself, so wrapped up in their own world that she doesn't notice everyone in the room starting to pack up their stuff in anticipation of the bell that is due to ring any second now.

Kief Princess Had to repay you for last night somehow ;)

When she glances up to see his reaction, she watches his chest rise with a particularly large inhale, and he chews on the inside of his lip in thought.

JJ (Derogatory) strategically bringing up last night so i'm turned on in physics? ur an evil mastermind

Kief Princess I try.

Kief Princess Apparently whooping your sorry ass at surfing isn't the only thing I'm good at.

She hears him scoff.

JJ (Derogatory) first of all, ouch. second, u barely beat me

Kief Princess I'm happy to challenge you to a rematch. I have plans with Kie tonight, so I can't till this weekend. All it'll prove is that I am the rightful winner, but we knew that already.

JJ (Derogatory) what r the stakes this time

Kief Princess No sexual favors. If you beat me (fat chance) I'll formally rejoin team oatmeal raisin.

JJ (Derogatory) :( sex makes it more fun but i still accept those conditions

JJ (Derogatory) team oatmeal raisin needs u, even if ur a traitor

Kief Princess Why bet sexual favors if you're just gonna fuck me after anyway?

JJ (Derogatory) good point

The sound of the bell ringing echoes through the cafeteria, and they both pop their heads up from their phone screens to see everyone, including Pope and Kie, already packed up and raising from their seats to scurry off in the direction of their next classes. Meanwhile, their stuff is all bestrewn across the table, particularly JJ's belongings.

The sight of Kie walking away makes Y/N ask after her, "We're still on for tonight, right?

She stops with Pope's hand interwoven in hers. The look on her face when she turns would make you think she got caught doing something she wasn't meant to. Something like forgetting about the plans they made last week to watch Fear Street together. The Cherry Bowl Drive-In is premiering the first two movies as a double feature for the horror movie buffs of Kildare, so they decided to get tickets. Kiara shares a fondness of horror movies with her. Since gory movies make the boys squirm, though JJ pretends they don't, it's their own thing.

"Actually, Pope and I were gonna go to the beach. I'm sorry."

JJ knows she's more upset about it than she lets on, but Y/N simply gives the pair a smile that doesn't reach the eyes.

The sound of JJ behind her makes them laugh on their way out, diffusing the minor tension lingering in the air from the awkward encounter, "Use protection!"

After their friends offer them a goodbye, they gather their stuff quite leisurely, not really caring about being late.

It's something they've talked about before here or there: her feelings surrounding Kiara and Pope's sudden relationship. It's not as if she harbors any ill feelings for them, she doesn't, but the ripple effects of their pairing on the group, and more importantly the girls' own friendship, couldn't be clearer from her perspective. Between the missed hangouts, forgotten plans, and the convenient way she never seems to have time to hang out with her and JJ unless Pope is there too, it's been building up for a month now.

What makes it sting the most is how close her and Kie used to be. They didn't hit it off immediately the way she and JJ did as children until her thirteenth birthday when no one she invited showed up to the party Big John helped her set up in the yard of the Chateau.

She was the one who rallied the boys together to walk to ask their school friends from the year above to come hang out for an hour or two, promising a slice of the wonky-looking but delicious strawberry cake her and John B spent the morning crafting together. She can remember the sound of their high-pitched laughs and the cloud of flour that hung in the kitchen when they high-fived over the finished product like it was yesterday. In her heart, it was yesterday.

That night was when she fell in love with her friends, and that was when she first knew Kiara was her best friend. They wove friendship bracelets on each other that night and wore them for years until they withered away. No one had ever done something like that for her before. Not even JJ.

"You okay?"

Feeling his hand on her arm, slipping down to take her hand for a moment in the seclusion of the empty cafeteria, makes her glance up at him with a distinct sorrow washed over her features.

You know what? Screw this. Why should she be torn up over Kie and let it ruin her excitement for the double feature tonight? There's no way in hell she's letting her best friend ditching her for her boyfriend get in the way of her plans.

"Do you wanna go on a date tonight?" she asks him abruptly, then adds, "To the Cherry Bowl with me instead of Kie?"

The question sparks a pause in his mind, a halt of hesitation in which he worries about her avoiding having to answer what he asked, but he attempts to play it cool and not fuss over her outwardly. There have been times where being treated like that has made her feel suffocated, so he doesn't want to risk it. When she's ready, she'll talk about it, and if she takes too long and buries her feelings, then he'll intervene. For now, he tries to keep his face neutral despite the frown tempting his lips at her disappointment.

JJ looks around once more before throwing his arm around her shoulder to walk her out.

"You bet your ass I do."

What is a person supposed to act like on their first date that's not actually a date cause everything between them is the same, but kinda is a date because they called it one? If you ever find out, please find JJ and tell him because he has no clue.

Pope wasn't too much help in the Instagram group chat he made for it seeing as his and Kie's relationship is too fresh, John B isn't even alive, so he's out of service for advice unless there's Ouija Board he can borrow, and, thankfully, Kiara was his savior.

Their phones began blowing up as soon as he reached his class after lunch period ended. He couldn't under any circumstances let it be known that this mystery girl he had a date with was their friend, but thankfully Y/N already had the alibi of going to the Drive-In alone. All he had to do was make up a fake date scenario and get basic advice.

danknugstickiestickies added kiara-c and popeheyward to the groupchat

danknugstickiestickies named the group HELP ME

danknugstickiestickies i have a date with this chick i met on the beach when i was out with y/n last week. i need ur advice

His phone screen lit up with the notification that both of his friends were typing, signified with the three dot symbol bouncing in the bottom left corner as he thought it through. They couldn't possibly figure it out, right? They'd been careful, he'd been respectful of her wishes, and they'd been too busy together to notice anything new with them. He figured it would work. It was a risk, sure, but it was worth it to him. He didn't want to fuck this up with her.

Knowing her, she probably wouldn’t even treat it differently than any of their other hang outs. It's not like they haven't been romantic or sexual with each other. They've done everything but go out on an actual date, so why was he nervous?

kiara-c ummmm

popeheyward Yeah, I'm gonna need you to ELABORATE!!

kiara-c did hell freeze over? since when does jj maybank go out on dates??

danknugstickiestickies renamed the group hell froze over

kiara-c very funny, I'm laughing so hard 😐

popeheyward Do we know her?

danknugstickiestickies don't think u do. she moved here last week and hasn't enrolled in school yet. her name's steph

popeheyward What about Y/N though?

kiara-c ^^

JJ's chest muscles tightened with the question prompting a rush of anxiety that made his breathing feel slightly harder. He glanced up at his Physics teacher, who was essentially dozing off behind his desk with his hand in a bag of chips and an educational video on the projector as an excuse to not teach, and looked back down at his phone without the added stress of possibly getting his phone confiscated.

Pope's message might as well have been a sucker punch. Forget butterflies, he set a wasp’s nest loose inside of his stomach to tie it into knots and flip it every which way. His neglected textbook served as a prop for his phone to lean on as he set it down to think.

Did they know? As far as he was aware, they were getting away with it. No evidence, concrete or circumstantial, was there to prove it. At least the stress of the situation killed any chance of him being turned on by her reminder of last night in their messages. This shit was boner repellant of the highest degree.

He played stupid. Better to let them volunteer whatever information they had before he went in saying anything incriminating that they didn't already know. If anything would sour the experience of their first date, it would be him accidentally making their strange in-between relationship public behind her back.

danknugstickiestickies ?? what do u mean

Three dots bounced in the bottom left corner of his slightly cracked phone screen.

popeheyward ...

kiara-c I mean, you don't see it?

danknugstickiestickies see what

popeheyward I guess we were wrong, but all of us always thought you two had some feelings going on.

"You don't say?" JJ murmured sarcastically to himself under his breath. "Never crossed my mind, Pope."

danknugstickiestickies bro that's jb's little sister

kiara-c so?

danknugstickiestickies forbidden fruit? making john b roll over in his grave? do those ring a bell or am i speaking in tongues

He was already a proficient liar in real life, but, fuck, it was easy in text messages. There's no chance at deciphering facial expression or tone, just a plain message with no room to budge. Thank God he didn't do this in person with them. He could've survived, but it wouldn't have been as quick and painless as the group chat was.

kiara-c jeez, sorry

Pope didn't voice it, but he noticed something.

He looked up from his phone and stared off at the wall in thought in his AP European History class. It piqued his interest that JJ simply said she was off limits, forbidden fruit as he put it, but did not outright deny having feelings for her. In fact, he didn't even address the question. He made excuses for why he shouldn't have feelings for her, but he never said he didn't have feelings for her.

Kie did not notice. Not because she wasn't smart enough to either, but because she was too busy hiding her phone behind her backpack to think too deeply about it. Her teacher was one of those teachers that would flip shit if they saw a cell phone turned off and faced down on the desk, let alone being used by a student during a lesson.

In his classroom across the hallway, JJ bounced his leg up and down beneath his desk in an absentminded urge to release the built up energy the anxiety produced in an over abundance.

popeheyward Our bad then. Even John B thought y'all were sus lmao.

Since when was that a known fact? Could he tell? Did he talk to Pope about him and Y/N before he died? Either way, it wasn't the time to pry about it.

kiara-c yeah you guys honestly could've fooled me if you wanted to

danknugstickiestickies well thank u, glad ur invested in our friendship but

danknugstickiestickies please help, i have no fucking clue how to act on a date and this girl is too cool for me to screw this up

That was when they finally dropped the interrogation session and started offering up tips. The best ones came from Kie, which made sense to him since women are more likely to know what other women like than two dudes who share one collective brain cell and never had real relationships.

Rule One: Be ready to pick her up five minutes early.

He wasn't ready to pick her up five minutes early. His bike broke down by the time he made it halfway down his street, so he had to push it back up the road and into the yard before setting off on foot to reach the Chateau quickly enough. And by quickly enough, it means he got there five minutes late, not early.

Rule Two: Compliment her after you get in the car.

She tossed him the keys to the Twinkie from across the hood, not giving him the chance to open the door for her, and it wasn't until they were setting off down the road that he remembered the next piece of advice he was given.

Side-eyeing her in his peripheral vision, he tried to find something to compliment her on specifically rather than the general compliments about her being pretty that she never fully believes when he says them. He was intending to say something about the skirt she had on, but when he chanced a glance over at her, she caught him and asked—

"What is it?"

Sent into panic mode, JJ blurted out instead, "I like your shoes."

He could've bashed his face against the steering wheel twenty times right then and there at the utter absence of reaction on her part for the next few uncomfortable seconds. It wasn't that it was a bad compliment. She appreciates any compliments at all...but her shoes were hidden from his view. Not to mention, they were the dirty, mustard yellow converse that the Pogues bash on a daily basis.

She laughed, lifting her leg to expose the sneaker on her right foot, and asked, "These? Dude, you roast me for these all the time. You and John B said they look like Big Bird shit on them."

The skin on the apples of his cheeks scorched hot with embarrassment, and he was never so glad that the overhead lights in the van were burnt out until that moment. He would've died on the spot if she saw him blush like that, face flushed pinker than sunburn. All he could do to save himself was murmur something about the color growing on him and keep driving in the direction of the theater with his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel he fantasized about banging his face into.

Rule Three: Insist on picking up the check.

In this case, it meant insist on buying the popcorn and drinks, and he miraculously managed to drop his wallet somewhere along the way when he ran over to the Chateau, so when he stepped up to the makeshift concession stand with her standing at his side, he felt around for his wallet in his jeans to no avail.

His thoughts echoed back to him, You gotta be fucking kidding me. Seriously? Is this actually happening right now?

"JJ, it's honestly fine," she said softly as he leaned over to search back of the Twinkie for the wallet. "We can look for it on your street right now if you want. It has your ID and stuff, you don't want a stranger to have that. We don't need to stay—"

It took all of his control to not shout it in reaction when he said, "No way. You've been waiting for this, and Kie ditched you, so I ain't ditching you too. We're staying."

His wallet could go kick rocks.

He came too far to be dragged down by the old leathery piece of shit anyway. Would he go out and search for it tirelessly the second the date ended? Hell yeah, that fucker had twenty dollars and his debit card in it, but he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her or ruining her anticipated movie night by taking her out to search the streets with their phone flashlights for a wallet they might not find. He'd wait till the movies ended, take her home, then haul ass around the Cut searching for it after.

Thankfully, he found a couple bucks crumbled up in his front pocket while she scavenged for coins in the glove compartment, and they came up with enough to buy a water bottle and small popcorn to share together.

Rule Four: Don't have sex on the first date.

And it may sound easy enough to not act like a complete Neanderthal for the length of two movies, but the girl makes it pretty damn difficult if he's to say so himself.

That's what led him here, laying in the back of the sideways-parked Twinkie in the farthest corner of the outdoor theater with her practically on top of him. In any other instance, he wouldn't be opposed in the slightest, but with the cursed fourth rule in mind, he isn't too thrilled with the feeling of her hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

It isn't even meant to be sexual. They're constantly touching one another this way. She'll even slip her hands up under his shirt just to feel the warmth of his skin or when he asks her if she can get an itch on a part of his back he can't reach, but for some reason his brain is short circuiting right now.

The thing is, when Kie and Pope said he shouldn't do it on the first date, they meant it for his and Steph's made up circumstances, not his and Y/N's full-blown relationship without labels. When you've had sex with someone as many times as they have with each other, the hesitancy on the "first date" is nonexistent. It doesn't matter. But JJ, trying to follow the advice given to him to the letter for the sake of being the date she deserves, doesn't think about it that way.

It shouldn't be this nerve-wracking. They've been best friends since they were children, they've been flirting since they found out what basic attraction was in the first place, and they've been forming this relationship ever since John B died. Why can't he relax? Why is this so different compared to how easy it felt between them yesterday on the beach or today at lunch?

Rule Five: Be yourself.

It takes him another few moments of laying here with her before he realizes quite abruptly what went wrong in a quick flash of a thought that brings the fifth rule back to him. The problem wasn't the bike, or the weird compliment about her Big Bird sneakers, or the lost wallet.

The problem is him. The problem is that he's trying way too hard to make this something it isn't. The part about them that he adores so dearly is how they never have to try when they're together. With any other girl or guy, they'd have to fake something or act a certain way, yet when they're together, they can simply exist and everything is runs smoothly. That's not to say they don't disagree or bump heads, they do, but short of those outlier moments, it's easier than anything else they do in life.

His eyes flicker away from the screen for the first time since the movie began, which, by the way, is gruesome enough at times that he had to divert his eyes to prevent himself from seeing it happen. They land on where she lays, completely content with the night in spite of its mishaps, with her head propped up on the pillows they brought from the Chateau.

He wonders if she can tell he's acting differently. Surely she must notice. She's the type of person that typically never misses a thing, perfect for the gold hunt they went on in the summer with picking up the clues and helping her brother unravel the mystery, so maybe she noticed how flustered this date has him. Does it bother her? Does he bother her?

With a confirming glance back up at the movie to see nothing important happening, he can't fight the urge to speak anymore.

"Can I tell you something?"

His voice appearing through the darkness of the shut off van after spending the past half hour in complete silence makes her jolt at first before realizing who it was. Though she loves horror movies, she can't claim to not be affected by them. The night she falls asleep after watching one, she often finds herself compelled to turn a light on and keep her feet from dangling off the edge of the bed. It's worth the fear, though.

When she turns to look at JJ, there's a warm smile on her face. She's cuddled into his side with a hand placed casually atop his thigh, caressing with no purpose or intent, and her movement halts when the light from the movie on the projector allows her to see the expression on his face.

Anxiety has become an increasingly significant presence in his life with the recent events in mind; John B and Sarah, the four-hundred million dollars they lost out on, and dodging his father whenever he sneaks home to switch out the backpack of clothes and personal belongings he keeps at the Routledge house.

It manifests itself in jittery nerves, stomach pains, shortness of breath, and, at worst, panic attacks striking either at random or in response to a specific trigger. It's one of the few things he still tries to hide from her, and she tries not to push him too hard with opening up about it.

She abandons the movie for the time being and rolls onto her side to face him, upper body propped up on her elbow as she examines his face with downturned features.

"Of course," she says.

The words left unsaid are, "You can tell me anything. Whenever you need someone to listen, or to talk to about shit, you can tell me." He's heard her say it enough that he doesn't need to hear it now to know it's true.

There's a pause, then—

"I feel like I fucked this entire date up," he starts to ramble and cuts her off before she can think about saying what she wants to, "and I know it's okay to you. You have way too high of a tolerance for my bullshit, and I've been trying so hard to make this perfect, but all that did was screw it up."

She's left quiet for a second, taking it all in.

Maybe if he hadn't been so anxious about it, he would've realized what was wrong with his bike when he rode it home from school, or he would've noticed his wallet fall out of his pocket. The point is, he wishes he hadn't let the label attached to this freak him out so much. He isn't sure why it does, but it does.

But she doesn't do what he expects. She isn't drowning him in reassurances and, "It's okay's" because she knows he doesn't care for them much. When he, the most stubborn person she knows, apologizes for something he did, he doesn't want it to turn into the person accepting the apology coddling him.

Y/N sighs.

"Is that why you've been acting so different all night? I scared you with the whole ‘date’ thing, didn't I? It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want it to be."

What she doesn't know is that he wants it to be a date. He wants it to be a date so badly, he risked Pope and Kie finding them out for the sake of getting some proper advice on it, and now he's caught up in the same game of tug and war in his mind that always occurs when he wants to tell her the truth about his feelings for her.

Part of him doesn't understand why he doesn't outright say it. With every other girl he once showed interest in, he had no issues in letting them know he wanted them, but this is different. This isn't simply wanting someone, he thinks he's fallen for her. But whenever he says he's gonna grow a pair and tell her after all this time, he chokes. Involuntarily, he's reminded of his parents. Other than his friends saying it platonically, the only people to tell him they loved him were them, and with how they treated him, he sure as hell doesn't think that is love.

From his dad's brutal physical abuse to his mom's abandonment, he's too timid to tell her he loves her because of what could happen if she loves him back. Everyone else that has said that to him has either hurt him, died like John B did, or abandoned him.

He won't let that happen with him and Y/N. What they have, albeit undefined and codependent, is safe. It's the only thing he has left. Maybe it isn't right, and maybe he should open up about it to communicate the correct way, but somewhere in the misshapen logic of his mind, he correlates love to abandonment. And he doesn't want that to happen with her.

There are two sides of him at battle inside his mind. One side, the side that wants to do right by their relationship and actually communicate his feelings for once in his life, wants him to tell her everything. The other side, the side that responds based on the history of his past, wants him to hide it all.

"Will you be mad at me if we don't call it a date?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

The heavy sensation inside of JJ's chest nears a point of vitriolic violence against him as he starts to realize what he's doing to her, clearly letting her down, but he can't stop himself. Like a passive witness watching himself from outside of his body, the instantaneous trauma response to the sudden confrontation of his true feelings for her guides his actions without his permission. It shuts down any protest he has.

The sound of the movie fills the gap of silence between them the entire time. It’s a variety of bloodcurdling screams and disgusting sounds that would've made him gag if he weren't as distracted.

They can make out each other's faces through the darkness, but barely. It takes a flash of bright color from the film or a nearby car's lights turning on for them to fully see one another. Without the other knowing, they both put masks of calm and collected coolness on their faces despite the feelings raging beneath the surface—more so on his part than hers.

"Maybe," he says, pausing, "we should just keep things the way they've been."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, a soul-crushing amount of disappointment weighs her down. She said it was fine if he doesn't want it to be a date—and it is, she would never hold it against him—but that doesn't mean it can't hurt her. Things have been going so well, she almost thought...If tonight went well, she was thinking about no longer keeping it a secret, but if he said he wants things to stay the same, then maybe he isn't as ready for it as she is?

Meanwhile, JJ is on another page entirely.

She's embarrassed of being with you, a familiar voice in the back of his head croons. She's gonna leave just like everyone else does. If she doesn't even wanna tell your friends, why should you pretend you're dating?

The internal comments are the type that cause him to physically grimace when he's alone. Intrusive thoughts are just that: intrusive.

Sneaking into the guarded sanctuary of a person's mind, they set out to convince them the opposite of their reality. The only thing is, where most people's minds are guarded sanctuaries with walls of impregnable defense, his mind is the equivalent of a fortress blown to smithereens. The castle walls lay in rubble, the guards no where to be seen, and the path for these thoughts to slip past and straight to the vulnerability of his mind is left wide open.

In the privacy of his room, these thoughts attack him the most at night when he tries to fall asleep—when things get too quiet. With nobody around, when they get this bad there's nothing he can do except break down. It builds from the mere anxiety of attempting to force the thoughts away to full-blown panic attack mode. The more he resists them, the more aggressive they become. He'll gasp for air with tears streaming down his face, hitting his head with the heel of his hand as if that'd do something to stop his relentless mind.

But he can't afford to react in front of her, so the extent of his reaction is a subtle twitch of his face that she cannot see in the momentary darkness before the movie switches to another scene a second later. In a way, it does make the thoughts go away to have her here preventing him from spiraling alone. Having to focus on her keeps his mind away for moments at a time until the thoughts ease their grip on him.

When she hasn't answered for a while, he asks, terrified that he did something bad, "Are we good?"

The question seems to wake her up, snapping her out of the lonely direction her thoughts went into when he "rejected" her. It takes every bit of common sense she has left to force herself to understand that this doesn't mean he doesn't want her. He does, and not calling this a date doesn't mean they won't be together in the way they have been since John B's death, but she isn't perfect. She gets as unsure and insecure as he does.

As if the cloud of doom was lifted off of her, she makes her face lighten where she lays on her side next to him. Seeing this expression makes his chest feel less heavy, and he could let out a sigh of relief at the realization that he didn't break her heart and stomp on it. He should've known. Y/N is the sweetest person he knows, so she never would've flipped shit over him not wanting to label this as a date. That's not how she is.

And he's partly right. It isn't how she is. She would never hold it against him if he didn't want something further with her since she got herself into this position by pursuing him with his reputation with girls in mind, but she can't ignore it. Whether she wants it to or not, it had its affect on her as soon as he said it.

She leans in to kiss him, their lips meeting in the middle with the faint taste of popcorn salt mingling at the soft peck.

When she pulls away, she brushes the hair back from his face and says, "Don't worry. Nothing can change how I feel about you."

She has no clue what it feels like to hear that from her.

Despite the turmoil they unknowingly share beneath the surface due to this conversation, he could cry hearing her say it. It doesn't feel real to him that she feels the same way he does about her, because nothing could change how he feels about her either. That’s why he manages to work up the courage to repeat it back to her, and, for now, this is the closest he's physically capable of coming to telling her the truth.

"Ditto," he says.

It isn't what she wanted, but it's close enough, and if she dwells on this any longer, she might start getting too emotional and let the urge to tear up become too strong. Why does she have to be this sensitive? It's no secret that it's remarkably easy to make her cry, but this is insane to her. When all of this began with him, she didn't give a shit about him not wanting a label. She understood him, and she understood that he doesn't do this kind of thing, so why has it changed? Why doesn't she want to keep it a secret anymore? Why does she want this to be a date when she knows he doesn't want it to be?

Pulled by an invisible string back to him to silence her mind, she leans in to kiss him again with a hand cupping the back of his neck to guide him the rest of the way to her.

It shouldn't be laced with any sexual intention. She should be kissing him simply because she wants to, and, in a way, she is. Their kisses and touches are never lacking the motivation that is their underlying connection and mutual feelings for one another, but this is not the same. As he kisses her back with as much confidence and passion as always, she is reeling from the conversation that reminded her too much of a breakup.

It takes another minute of this for the kiss to heat up, their breathing becoming shallower in the moments they part to inhale, and she is undeniably the one instigating when she officially crosses the line between casual and sexual by crawling onto his lap. It's not hard for him to pick up on when their innocent moments take a turn. She's easy to read in that regard, and this has happened a multitude of times with them, so the shift of a mini make out session turning into something more is nothing out of the ordinary for them.

If he knew how shaken she is on the inside, he'd never want this. And the same would go for her if she knew what he was thinking before this. Neither of them wants to admit what they're feeling.

With her legs seated on either side of his hips, she kisses him like it's the last time she'll ever get the opportunity to. Her hands wander wherever they can, pulling at his shirt and feeling him up as his hands guide her hips to move against his in a steady grinding that she has no issue partaking in. It's an eagerness he hasn't seen from her in weeks. She's never un-excited when it comes to being physical with him either, but this is another level. The last time a girl was all over him like this, it was desperate touron at a party a few months ago.

In the span of time it takes her to glance over her shoulder to see if anyone could see them and reach to pull her skirt up until it bunches around her hips—no one can see them, by the way, since they got here late and were forced to cram the van into the back corner of the lot with no street lights illuminating the path—his brows raise at her presumptuous behavior. Not that he's one to complain, however, seeing as he's typically the one doing what she is.

Their next kiss clashes their teeth hard enough to make them wince, but he loves it. It makes him smirk into her parted mouth, alive with both the feeling her reassurance provided and the fuzzy-headed high that often finds him when they're together in this way. Incomparable to past flings or the high related to any drugs, she is the peak of everything to him. It's no contest.

His chest stutters against hers with a bout of amused laughter, asking within a brief pause in what feels like the most JJ thing he's said this awkward night, "Two for two in the Twinkie. What's gotten into you?"

Y/N's hand dips between where their bodies move together to unclasp the closed buckle of his belt in one smooth motion that has it falling apart with a clinking noise.

Her features are set with a look that tells him she means business. Whatever it is that sparked this, he wonders how the fuck to make it happen again another time. She's begged for it before, but never taken control so dominantly, and he can't deny what the role reversal does to him. The evidence is obvious in the distinct hardness she feels pressing up against the hand undoing his jeans.

"I was hoping it'd be you," she says, voice breathless and airy from the constant contact in a way that makes it ten times hotter for him.

If there were any chance of him not being in the mood prior to this, which wasn't the case anyway, it's gone now. He never wants to hear her say she doesn't deliberately try to tease him ever again.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

JJ surges forward to capture her mouth with his, this time with no intention of pulling away to breathe or speak again. No, he'll let himself get lightheaded and dizzy if it means he can stay with her for as long as possible.

With the circumstances of it all, them being visible to someone if they happened to pass by the open door of the van, they move at a pace quicker than usual. She's immediately helping him shimmy his jeans and underwear far enough down his hips to free his dick from the confines of his clothes, making him sigh out a breath of relief when her hand brushes against him in the process.

There's no opportunity to slow down, it has exploded into a full-throttle speed race that neither of them can halt.

His hand blindly flies out beside him to grope the floor of the van for the set of keys he tossed carelessly to the side once the movie started, eyes shut in the midst of the hot, messy kiss they share. His fingers find the fabric of one of the blankets they brought in case they got cold, then drifts again and lands on her Big Bird sneakers until he feels the sharp metal of her keys meet his calloused palm.

After the events of last summer, she bought a switch blade to keep on her key ring alongside the keys to the van, HMS Pogue, and Chateau. She may not like violence or weapons, seeing as she was a skeptic of JJ keeping the gun alongside her friends, but she saw it necessary. Between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, how could she leave the safety of her and her friends up to chance knowing what some of the kooks did to them not long ago? What happened to Pope on the golf course alone was enough to make her skin crawl.

Right now, though, the knife flips out from the pressure of his thumb pushing the button to release it. He holds it out away from her at first to assure it doesn't nick her in the process, then uses his other hand to tug the side of her panties that hugs her hip far out enough to press the sharp side of the blade onto the inside of it.

She can hardly believe what she's watching as JJ cuts the delicate maroon underthings from her body as if he were doing something so normal, like it's something he's done before. Her forehead is pressed against his, her mouth parted both in shock and in a need to pant for oxygen, and she watches the knife ruin her favorite panties. The stitches come apart with a satisfying ripping noise that can hardly be heard over the sound of people reacting to the movie in the background.

Other customers of the Cherry Bowl Drive-In are too glued to the screen as a beloved character is chased down, reacting in shouts when she's seized by the killer and shoved onto the table of an industrial bread slicer, so they remain wholly unnoticed.

The lace, now ripped in half, dangles on the tip of the knife when he lifts it away from her, tosses it aside, and presses the button once more to retract the blade. It clatters to the floor, but is in no way forgotten with them resuming in a desperation to keep going until they both satisfy the need clawing at them from the inside. But her sense of need is different from his, and even with the fresh memory of him with the switch blade in mind, she's still somewhere else the whole time.

Her mind is faraway, muted through layers of sadness, anger, and disappointment as he reaches between them to line himself up to her entrance. The sensation of him running his cock, hard and messy with a few drops of precome, through her dripping pussy to coat it in her slick arousal is enough to make her moan pathetically. Yet when he's about to guide himself inside of her, she stops him.

"Wait, wait, wait," she breathes out rapidly, heart pounding so hard she can feel herself pulsating between her thighs, "Condom."

They were so antsy to get to it, they almost forgot.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, and his eyes flicker from where they were trained between their bodies to glance back and forth around the van before it hits him. "I lost my wallet..."

But right when he thinks their public rendezvous in the back of the Drive-In is over due to his unfortunate mistake, she shakes her head and slips away from her perch astride his lap to crawl over to her bag.

She fumbles with the old tote bag and plunges her arm in to sift through the hodge podge of things that are purely Y/N in nature—stickers, glitter pens, a half-eaten bag of candy, etc—for the square foil package she decided to toss in before she left just in case. She usually doesn't keep them on her because he never fails to have one, but, thankfully, she had the random instinct to bring it tonight.

The only thing to bring her out of her cloudy, malevolent storm of feelings when she settles back onto his lap with the condom wrapper ripped open for him is him saying, "So you planned this, huh?" with his mouth tipped in a familiar self-satisfied grin.

She didn't plan it. In fact, she threw herself at him the second she sensed him withdrawing from her and can't stop herself despite the fact that she constantly feels two seconds away from letting a tear slip down her cheek. If that counts as "planning it", then sure.

"Maybe so," she answers, cool, calm, and collected—the antithesis of the truth.

They usually don't lie to each other.

They're thrown right back into it without any other hiccups once he rolls the condom on, and he takes in a shaky breath at her hand wrapping around him to align their bodies up. Before she can do anything, though, he takes chance to swipe the blanket he found a moment ago and wrap it around her back to keep her covered in case they get caught.

Y/N sinks down onto his cock with her lip caught between her teeth to stifle the sound that threatens to escape. JJ, on the other hand, doesn't bother concealing the sound of the groan he makes at the sensation of having her wrapped around him like this. The tension in her entire body from the anticipation and the looming threat of being seen by someone has her squeezing him so tightly, he can't help but be a little louder than he should.

Her soft palm slaps over his mouth with enough pressure to force his groan to quiet itself, and she watches his pretty blue eyes widen in reaction to the dominant action. Who is this girl and what has she done with his sweet, submissive Y/N? Don't get him wrong, he is very turned on by it, but it's unlike her to take the lead this way. He can't figure it out.

"What's wrong, angel?" she asks in a whisper into his ear, her hand over his mouth and her hips starting to slowly rock against him, "Watch the movie."

Once the words leave her mouth, she drops her hand, just in case he wants to stop and can't say anything because she had his mouth covered, and JJ is pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven.

He doesn't watch the movie, not at all, because he's too busy watching her. For someone losing their mind internally, she does not let it show, nor does she let it distract her from what's happening. If anything, the distraction in this situation is the sex, not what's going on inside of her head.

There's a moment of adjustment and going as slowly and gently as possible while waiting for the dull pressure of feeling him inside of her to fade away, but, for the most part, she doesn't waste any time. As soon as she feels comfortable enough with the ache between her thighs giving way to a spark of pleasure when she grinds her clit down on his pubic bone, she starts to ride him at a better pace than the initial slow movements of her hips.

She raises herself up and takes him again inch by inch, enjoying the sense of fullness she gets from having to fit him in spite of the slight discomfort at first, and she could swear that he'll leave bruises in the shape of his handprints with how tightly he clutches her hips. It's all he can do to prevent himself from moaning or saying something, ever the vocal lover she's come to know.

Unless his mouth is preoccupied like it was on the beach yesterday afternoon, JJ is usually impossible to shut up, especially in this context. With him always whispering dirty things to her, whether it be praises, pet names, or plans on what he wants to do to her, she has come to find it breathtakingly hot. He could likely get away with saying something if he wanted to, but he isn't sure he wants to risk it. If he opens his mouth to spew something filthy to her, he won't trust himself not to make a louder, different kind of noise that won't fit in the with background audio the other moviegoers are listening to.

The wet sound of their bodies colliding that fills the space of the van is drowned out by the loud and violent sequence occurring on the screen far ahead of them, and hearing it makes her bounce herself on him a little harder. She's fueled on by it all, and, strangely, what happened before she practically pounced on him is the main contributor.

Similarly to the nature of his intrusive thoughts, the harder she resists the memory of how it felt when he told her he didn't want this to be a date, the more forceful it is in its return. Her eyes trail down to watch where they connect with her forehead pressed to his, then she's thrown back into the feeling of helpless disappointment and insecurity. His head tips back against the window with his bottom lip dropped open and his brows furrowed just enough to create a crease on his forehead, and she's bombarded with the look of relief on his face when he realized he didn't have to be tied down to her with a label.

It makes her want to get rougher, harder, and she doesn't even care if it'll make her sore later on. She presses herself down so far every time she slides down on his cock, her teeth draw blood on her lip with how hard she must bite it to remain quiet. The pain of her hipbones rubbing against his doesn't even matter to either of them at this point. They're both too lost in the pleasure that has begun to take control of them to care about something as minuscule as that, or the burn in her thighs from the repetitive physical strain.

She grabs his wrist and brings his hand between them, flattening hers overtop of it and pressing down on the base of her abdomen in the midst of the increasingly feverish thrusts.

"Feel you here," she murmurs to him through a quiet moan, hoping he can hear it over the movie, and pushes down on his hand for emphasis. And if the way he reacts by cursing under his breath tells her anything, it's that he picked up on it. "JJ..."

He reaches out to grab her by the throat with his free hand and tug her forward to kiss him, as if something inside of him snapped in response to her doing that. The motions of her jolting up and down throws the already messy and uncoordinated kiss off-kilter, but they don't mind. It has them separating every time she lifts up, producing this heady little head rush from from them breathing in each other's air without actually letting their mouths meet in the middle.

Though they're trying their hardest not to alert anyone outside of what's happening, it didn't occur to him until now, when his eyes catch John B's old bandana swinging back and forth where it's secured around the rear view mirror.

They're worried about moaning while the entire fucking Twinkie is rocking with their movements. Well, at least it makes good use of the corny sticker he gifted John B last year as a gag gift. He tried to peel it off after JJ snuck it onto the side window to no avail. So, now Y/N is stuck with a sticker on her car reading, "If the van's a-rockin', come on in, we like orgies," rather than the more common phrase.

It almost makes him start laughing, and he prays no one takes that shit seriously, 'cause he is never intent on sharing this breathtaking girl. Ever.

Y/N isn't anywhere near laughing like he is, in fact, she's finding it difficult to keep herself together. She feels her eyes sting with the promise of tears, and she's never felt so pathetic before. Is she seriously about to cry during sex? Is she really that girl that is so ill-equipped to handle rejection, she can't get through it without tears?

She won't cry. Perhaps if he sees how glossy her eyes have become in a rare moment of good lighting, she can blame it on the hand around her throat putting pressure on the sides of her neck.

The worst part about her being near to crying is the timing of it.

The emotion of what she feels mentally mixes with the swirling, building sensation she feels in the pit of her stomach that tells her she's close to going over the edge, and it's so overwhelming. Was she imagining that their friendship had changed? More importantly, is this all she'll ever be to him? Sex is the only thing she's sure of with him, it's the only thing that doesn't require deeper emotions, and when the ground beneath their fragile relationship felt shaky...

He can feel her starting to unravel, and he knows that he'll come before she does if he doesn't do anything now, so he decides to take control.

JJ pulls the hand he had resting on her abdomen away as though he were burned by it, wrapping his arm around her waist to steady her body against his and using the hand around her neck for leverage to thrust up into her, effectively reducing her to a teary-eyed, moaning mess atop him. They both stopped caring about making noise the second he began to fuck her like this.

She cries out in ecstasy at the sudden change in pace and depth that has him hitting all the right places. Every time he thrusts up into her, just as rough as she wished for, the tip of his cock nudges into that perfect spot inside of her that makes her incapable of silencing her moans. This time, it's JJ that puts his hand over her mouth, letting the one he had around her neck move away to keep her from alerting everyone around them of what's happening.

There's nothing she can do to stop her climax as it barrels through her in its initial sweeping wave of bliss to contrast the venomous doubts in her mind. She's never felt such conflicting, yet powerful feelings before—the intensity of the physical pleasure that makes her whine into the palm of his hand, then the part of her mind replaying every word he said in their conversation before this.

Her body is rigid and tense through it all, squeezing down around his cock with the involuntary spasms of her orgasm, and he can't help himself anymore. All it takes are a few more frantic thrusts for him to bury himself inside of her one last time and spill into the condom, uncovering her mouth so he can drown out his own groans into a kiss.

Their skin sticks to their clothes on the inside with sweat from the exertion of their actions, and he can feel her stomach tremble where it presses up against his with each undulation of her hips that meet his as he rides it out.

But even with the added distraction of the sex, she can't rid herself of the feeling that started plaguing her as soon as things went awry. That was why he was acting weird all night. He must have been so worried about her thinking this was anything more than their typical hangouts that he couldn't bring himself to act normally.

She forces herself to look happy when they pull away from the kiss, panting, and JJ, unaware of what she's been thinking, doesn't notice the small deception.

Tag list: @gabiatthedisco

[here4theheartbreak]

Afternoon Naps (myg + pjm)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jimin x Yoongi Genre: smut Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~5.5k

Tags: Smut, Consensual Somnophilia, Vampires, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, Vampire Sex, Vampire Biting/Blood Drinking, Sleeping Medication, Consensual Necrophilia (Technically), Temporary Character Death, Vampire Min Yoongi, Human Park Jimin, Bottom Park Jimin

Summary: Jimin finds out his boyfriend's biggest secret, and reveals his own biggest kink. They realize that this can benefit both of them.

A/N: Fifth Kinktober fic, day 7: somnophlia; this fic is also filling a request from ages ago. @sujigguk requested a fic with “you’re not human”

A/N 2: The fic contains technically necrophilia -- vampire lore in this fic has the vampire "dying" (i.e. heart/breathing stops, body goes cold, rigor mortis sets in) while resting in their coffins. All sexual acts are discussed and consented to by both parties prior to this.

“Jimin!” Yoongi’s voice was sharp… And not all that happy when he opened the door of his apartment. Jimin smiled sheepishly. 

“Surprise?” He said softly. 

“What are you doing here?”

Yoongi looked tense as he stood in the doorway. From what Jimin could see over his shoulder, his blinds were drawn, and his apartment was still mostly dark. Strange, given it was nearly ten in the morning.

“Did I wake you?”

Yoongi hesitated. “No.”

Jimin’s smile faded a little. “I wanted to come by… It’s been a week.”

“We’ve been texting.” 

Jimin’s smile disappeared completely. “I disturbed you. I’m sorry.” He backed up, ready to head down the hall.

“Wait, no, Jimin. Don’t go. You just surprised me, I’m not used to visitors coming by unexpectedly.”

Jimin looked at him, trying to gauge if he was being sincere. Jimin and Yoongi had been dating for nearly six months. It was great. Yoongi was always there for him, their dates were fun, and they never ran out of things to talk about. The sex was mind blowing. Sure, they fought a little, but never a big thing. The one oddity in all their time together… Was that Jimin was never invited to sleep over at Yoongi’s. Yoongi had stayed at Jimin’s a few times, and Jimin had come over once or twice, but never for more than a few minutes. 

The last time they were together in person, Jimin had hinted at wanting to stay over at Yoongi’s one night. Yoongi had seemed okay with the idea, but also a bit stiff about it. 

“I should have texted,” Jimin finally said.

“Yes,” Yoongi agreed. “But… You’re here, I can spare a few minutes.” He sighed heavily and stepped aside, letting Jimin in. 

“Dark,” Jimin commented as he entered. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.” He reached out for Yoongi’s head, only to have Yoongi jerk away.

“I’m fine.”

Jimin scowled then, crossing his arms. “What’s wrong with you?”

Yoongi blinked at him. 

“You’re acting weird. I’ve been with you half a year, I know when you’re not yourself. What’s wrong?”

“It…” Yoongi’s shoulders sagged. “It’s very hard to explain.”

“Well try. I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark. Literally or figuratively.” Jimin went to flip on a light. 

Yoongi grabbed his wrist. His hand was frigid, and his grip was tight. Jimin gasped. 

“Don’t.” Yoongi’s voice was sharp.

“Wh… What’s going on? You’re kinda starting to scare me.”

“I don’t mean to.” Yoongi let go of Jimin’s wrist.

“Why are you so cold?” Jimin went forward. Yoongi backed away but Jimin ignored him, grabbing his face. “Jesus, you’re freezing. Are you sick?”

“Not exactly,” Yoongi mumbled.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“Jimin, please…” Yoongi leaned into his touch, his eyes screwed shut. “Please just go home… I promise, I’ll explain everything tonight.”

“No. You can explain right now, Min Yoongi.” Jimin crossed his arms and stood in front of the door, facing Yoongi. 

“It’s not easy,” Yoongi muttered. Jimin remained silent. He sighed. “Fine. I… I really wanted us to last.”

Jimin narrowed his eyes, not liking how this was sounding. Yoongi stuffed his hands into his pockets. 

“I’m a monster.”

“What makes you a monster?” Jimin pressed.

“Fangs? Death? Drinking blood?” Yoongi shrugged. “Any number of things. I mean a literal monster.”

Jimin laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, come on, don’t be silly. Yoongi, what is it really?” He asked. He flicked on the light. Yoongi winced visibly, raising his hand to shield from the indoor light.

Jimin’s entire body went cold. Yoongi was standing in front of him. His Yoongi – lean muscle and a sweet, round face, gentle eyes and guitar callused fingers… But not his Yoongi at the same time. The person in front of him was paler than Yoongi – his face almost grey it was so pale. His eyes were dark. Not just dark, but the pupils seemed to have expanded, filling the whites of his eyes and giving him a demonic gaze. 

Yoongi let his hand fall, his expression timid despite the horror his features implied. 

“You’re not human,” Jimin whispered.

“I’m a monster,” Yoongi agreed. “A vampire… Specifically.” He looked down. “Are you going to run away screaming now?”

“Make me, you troll,” Jimin grumbled. He let his arms fall and took a cautious step forward. 

“I’m a vampire, not a troll.”

Jimin grinned at that, seeing the curve of a smile on Yoongi’s lips. “I’ll get it right eventually… Am I in danger? Standing here like this?”

“No. I have excellent control over my feeding… Why aren’t you scared?” Yoongi looked up, meeting Jimin’s gaze.

“I am.”

“You aren’t showing it… Aside from a fast heartbeat… I can’t see any fear on your pretty face. And your heart beats fast around me all the time.”

Jimin smiled. “Flirting isn’t gonna get you out of the doghouse… Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“You’re right.” Yoongi snapped his fingers. “I always forget. When is the right date to tell your new boyfriend you died and came back as a bloodsucking creature of the night? That once a week you have to spend a day in a coffin literally dead or you get wildly sick? Isn’t it the third? Or no, the seventh?”

Jimin slapped Yoongi’s shoulder with some force, smirking when he cried out, rubbing it. “Weak for a vampire.”

“I’m immortal, not immune to my boyfriend’s abuse,” Yoongi grumbled.

“Do you drink blood?”

“Of course I do.”

“Human?”

“When I can.”

“From live people?”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your tone, Mr. Park?”

Jimin glared. “You lied to me for six months, I’m allowed to interrogate you.”

Yoongi smiled softly. “I’m frankly just… In amazement that you’re still standing here. And no… Not live humans, not for a very long time. You may proceed with the interrogation – but I insist on us moving out of my hallway and to an actual sitting location.” He pointed to the couch.

“Do you have anything to drink? If I open your fridge… Will I find bags of blood?”

Yoongi made a noise of offense and crossed his arms. “Of course not, I’m not some barbarian. You’ll find a recyclable bottle of that’s filled with blood. But my sodas are in the door.”

Jimin went over to the fridge and opened it. Sure enough, there were three large water bottles filled with a very suspicious reddish liquid. He grabbed a soda from the door and went over to the couch, sitting next to Yoongi.

“How old are you? I’m guessing that twenty-seven was a lie.”

“I was twenty-seven when I died. Thirty-one years ago.”

“Oooh, I bagged myself a silver fox, huh?”

Yoongi huffed once more. “I died at twenty-seven.”

“Mhm… And now you’re fifty-eight.” 

“Jimin, I’m gonna…” 

Jimin giggled. “I guess I shouldn’t tease you… You might bite me… Would you?”

“Bite you? Not unless you asked.”

“Would it turn me into a vampire?”

“No. There’s a very specific ritual for that.”

Jimin nodded. “Cool. So, what does a vampire do? Aside from drinking blood… What’s special about you? I’ve seen you in the day. You complain a whole lot, but you don’t sparkle or ignite like a firework. We’ve taken plenty of pictures together… And you eat way too much garlic. You also sleep at night, and probably too long… And you aren’t any stronger than I am.”

“You’re making me feel real great here, Jimin,” Yoongi joked, smiling as he spoke.

Jimin laughed. “Sorry—I just mean… You seem human. I’ve never… Really assumed anything was off about you.”

“The great thing about humans, is that you all really like to assume everyone is like you. You avoid the things that support the opposite. Inhuman behavior, to some degree, so long as it’s not shocking or jarring, you can brush off as an odd quirk, a funny trait. I’m close to human, yes, but I am not human. I complain in the sun because my skin is sensitive. Bursting into flames is a myth, but I do burn far easier than most humans. My skin’s melanin has decayed over the years without cellular growth.”

“Which is why you’re so pale too.”

Yoongi grunted an affirmative. “Garlic is a myth, as is the no reflection thing. I’m sure hundreds of years ago, maybe? There might have been some truth to it, but modern technology and modern mirrors work different, so I can see myself the same as you. I am stronger than you, but I do well at hiding it most of the time. Any displays of it, you either don’t see, or brush aside. I do also sleep at night, yes – because I’ve put myself on a human schedule. I do this so I can live among you all without problems. Once a week though, I must sleep during the day. Sleeping at night is akin to a human living on a series of short naps at mid-afternoon. It’s not fully restful and it’s dangerous to do long term. I compensate by sleeping through the day one day per week, in the appropriate resting place.”

“R… Resting place?”

“My coffin.”

Jimin’s eyes bulged. “Coffin?”

“Yes, I am dead. I have a coffin.”

“That you sleep in?”

“Once a week. Otherwise, I sleep in the bed.” 

Jimin nodded, his brows furrowed. 

“Gonna run yet?” Yoongi asked.

“No… Is there anything else different?”

“Well… We’re excellent in bed,” Yoongi joked. Jimin glanced up. “I mean it. We have a… Special thing about us. You’ve had sex with other men before me, right?”

“Yeah, a few.”

“Haven’t you ever noticed that when we have sex… I’m much—”

“Harder.”

Yoongi nodded. 

Jimin pouted. “I assumed it was because I just really turned you on. It’s because you’re a vampire?”

“Well, no, you really do turn me on... A lot. But a few days after I do my daytime sleep, I get naturally more rigid. I’m not sure why – I think it has something do with… Ah, well it’s gross. But it just happens.”

Jimin sat back, sighing softly. “You’re immortal.”

“Yes.”

“Honestly… I think that’s the thing that bothers me most about this. Not that you’re undead or drink blood or… But that you’re gonna never grow old. And I’m…”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispered.

“If we work out…” Jimin began. “And stay together… You’ll turn me, right? You’d have to – for us to… Be together.”

“Not necessarily. While I wouldn’t hate the idea of someone’s company in my life… I know that a limited existence is so valued and important. It’s something that I would be willing to discuss… If we work out, and when you are older.”

Jimin nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Yoongi pressed. “That’s it?”

Jimin shrugged. “We all have secrets, Yoongi.”

“I doubt you have a secret as big as this, Jimin.”

“No… But I have one that… People have left for.”

Yoongi seemed to perk up a little at that, his brows furrowed. Despite the difference in his eyes, the sleek black, Jimin found his expression endearing and sweet. 

“I like your eyes like this… Can you change them at will?” He asked.

“No. They’re like this because I’ve not fed for a while. I have to keep myself fed and rested or they shift; they’ll be back to normal after I wake up and drink… What secret could you have that’s so big, Jimin?” 

“Well… I…” Jimin winced. “God, it’s weird as hell, I’m so sorry.”

“I won’t run,” Yoongi promised. “You’re sitting here next to me after finding out I’m a living dead monster. The least I can do is listen to your secret and try to understand.”

Jimin smiled softly at that. He nodded. “I like… Sleep sex.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like I like the idea of… Having sex with someone while they sleep or are unconscious. With their consent! I mean… I’d never… Do something nonconsensual.”

Yoongi remained silent a moment, thinking. “Do you want someone to have sex with you while you sleep? Or do you want to have sex with someone while they sleep?”

“Both, I guess. I like the idea of both. I’ve never done it. Most people stop talking to me after I tell them.”

“Why would they?” Yoongi pressed. “We all have kinks and fantasies.”

“Yeah, but a lot of them see it as a form of rape. And I get it, it’s a super grey area. You can’t change your mind while you’re asleep, so like… If you say it’s okay, and then as you drift off to sleep decide you don’t want it… Then it becomes nonconsent.”

Yoongi nodded in understanding. “Well I think that can be resolved just by open communication,” he said, touching his hand to his chin in thought. “If you trust your partner and they trust you, you two should be able to communicate what is and isn’t okay. I don’t think a kink like this is unsafe or unhealthy, as long as – like you said – it’s done with full consent.”

Jimin smiled cautiously, his heart skipping a beat. “You mean… You don’t find it gross?”

“Not at all.” Yoongi smiled. “I’m glad you shared it with me. I still don’t think it’s worse than me being a blood sucking monster… But I know it’s a secret you hold close, so I appreciate your trust. But… Would you want to try this with me someday?”

“Would I ever?” Jimin asked. He chuckled a little. “I fantasize about it a lot.” 

Yoongi smirked. He moved little closer, pulling Jimin to him. “Would you want to try it today?” He asked softly.

Jimin’s eyes widened. Yoongi continued. “Look… When I sleep… In my coffin. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t breathe. I don’t move. I am… For all intents and purposes… Dead. I don’t decay, obviously. But my body goes very cold, my lungs and heart go still… And my body stiffens, as a corpse would. That includes… My dick.”

Jimin remained quiet, processing what Yoongi was suggesting. Yoongi slid his hands over Jimin’s shoulders slowly as he spoke. “So, if someone… Say my very curious, very human boyfriend… Happened to get horny while I was sleeping in my coffin… He could climb in and use my body… Ride me… And I’d remain fully unconscious no matter what.”

“Because you’re dead…” Jimin clarified. 

Yoongi nodded. “Temporarily. I wouldn’t wake for anything, unless you shined sunlight on my body. So… If you want to do this…”

“Would you fuck me when you wake?” Jimin said quickly. “If I was sleeping, would you… Return the favor?”

“I wake in the late afternoon usually. You’d likely still be up.”

“Not if I took a sleeping pill,” Jimin suggested. “I have some, I used to get nightmares and they help. I don’t use them often, but I bring them just in case. I could take one after… And you could… Help get rid of your afternoon wood with my body.”

Yoongi shifted visibly on the couch. His tongue darted out, swiping over his lips. Jimin smirked. He leaned forward, sliding his hands up Yoongi’s thighs. “Does that idea sound good? You like it.”

Yoongi nodded. “I do,” he breathed. 

“We can do it today?”

“Yes but… Jimin… You understand what I mean. When I lay in my coffin… You will be looking at the equivalent of a corpse.”

“I understand. But you’re still you. You say you’ll only be still and cold… You won’t be decaying or rotting or anything you associate with a dead body. And you’ll be waking up and… We’ll be together.”

“Of course.”

“Would it turn you on? Knowing I used you while you… Rested?”

Yoongi smiled softly, lowering his gaze. “Frankly? That’s… An incredibly sexy thought. The thought of you climbing into my coffin with me alone is enough to… Well… I’ve thought of it more than once. I never even imagined you’d be willing to… Let alone wanting to… Do more.”

“Should I stay in the coffin with you? After I finish?”

“I’m afraid not.” Yoongi shook his head. “Waking from my rest is a very jarring thing. I fear I might accidentally hurt you. I have a bed in my room next to the coffin, you can sleep there.”

Jimin nodded. “I do want this as long as you do. And I do want you to… Do the same.”

Yoongi leaned forward, kissing Jimin gently. 

“Hey… You’re a vampire… Don’t you have fangs?”

“They retract. When I’m resting they will come out, so don’t kiss me – you could get poked. But when I’m awake I can pull them in and out as needed.”

“Can I see them?” Jimin whispered. 

Yoongi seemed to be thinking about it. He grinned then. His wide, gummy grin suddenly became something much more frightening… And sexier, when Jimin realized his canines had lengthened and transformed into sharp, deadly points. Jimin’s breath left in a rush. 

“Oh wow…”

Yoongi’s smile dropped again to a relaxed expression. “Satisfied?” He asked, his tone slightly breathier with the fangs in the way. 

Jimin nodded. “I think you need to go to bed soon,” he murmured.

Yoongi smirked, one fang peeking out of his lip. “Horny bastard.”

“Not my fault.” Jimin squeezed Yoongi’s thighs. “Should I wait out here?”

“Please. Though it’s not disturbing I do like going to sleep alone. You’re free to come in in about fifteen minutes… I’ll be resting by then. The lube is in the top drawer of the dresser in the bedroom. 

“See you in the evening,” Jimin said. Yoongi rose and leaned forward, pecking Jimin’s mouth gently. 

Fifteen minutes had never been so damn slow. Jimin finished his drink and paced around the apartment, trying to distract from the ticking clock. He took the time to explore Yoongi’s place; he’d never had a chance to before. He had quite a number of interesting trinkets that Jimin wanted to ask about when he woke up. He pulled off his coat and tugged on one of Yoongi’s hoodies, hugging himself in it as Yoongi’s scent drifted into his nostrils from the warm fabric. 

Finally. Fifteen minutes had passed. Jimin entered the bedroom carefully, letting his eyes adjust to the room, even darker than the living room. He found a lamp near a comfy looking bed and flicked it on, looking around. The light was soft, diffused by the heavy shade. In the center of the room was a large, dark coffin. Jimin approached it carefully, his heart in his throat. Inside was Yoongi, looking much paler than usual. He was entirely still, arms resting across his bare belly. He was in his boxers, his cock comically rigid, tenting the front up obscenely. He was stunning. 

Jimin hurried over to the dresser and opened the drawer, finding the lube easily. He shucked his jeans and boxers, crawling onto the bed. He set his sleeping medication on the bedside stand and relaxed into the pillow. It smelled richly of Yoongi’s scent, his cock thickening against his thigh. He moaned softly, stroking himself. He looked over at the coffin, his stomach clenching. This was really happening. He poured some of the lube on his fingers and spread it over his hole, sighing contentedly as he pushed a finger in to prep himself. 

When he was ready, Jimin rose, sliding the lube and his phone into his pocket. He went over to the coffin, taking a moment to gaze down at his beautiful lover. A vampire… He knew he’d likely have a moment of realization down the line – the understanding that this simple confession had flipped his life upside down. But he’d never been one to shy away from the macabre or bizarre, and he always wondered if supernatural creatures existed. Yoongi’s confirmation of that was… Unexpected, but not unwanted. 

Jimin carefully straddled Yoongi’s lap. He knew he couldn’t wake him, but the fear was half the fun. Yoongi was still hard, his position entirely unchanged from the first moment Jimin saw him. Jimin pulled his boxers down just under his balls, smirking when he saw the tip was a deep purple red. He wrapped his hand around it and stroked gently, surprised to find it cool to the touch. Yoongi really was a living dead person. 

A surprising twinge of arousal spiked through Jimin, making him shudder. He wondered if Yoongi could still come in this state. Only one way to find out.

He shifted over, taking the lube from his hoodie with shaking hands and adding some to Yoongi’s cock, and more to his own stretched hole. He moved over and began to settle into Yoongi’s cock, muffling his quiet gasps in his other hand. Yoongi’s cock was so hard it was almost painful. There was none of the give he was used to, forcing his ass open wide to take the tip, and sliding deep into him. He whimpered, shuddering hard when he took his entire length. 

“Yoongi,” he whined softly. Curious, he reached out, touching Yoongi’s pale, cool face. He held his hand by his nose for a moment. Nothing. No movement of air, no shift, nothing. He moaned again, reality slowly sinking in. There was nothing normal or right about this. But God, it felt good. He dropped his hand down, pulling Yoongi’s top lip back. As promised, there they were, sharp fangs, glinting dangerously. Jimin touched one, ever so tempted to prick his finger on it, let Yoongi taste him… But no. Jimin pulled his hand back. That could be discussed at a later time. He settled back on Yoongi’s stiff cock and whimpered. There was no give. He was gonna lose it fast at this rate.

Jimin began to ride him, moaning openly as Yoongi’s cock slid over his prostate. He reached into his hoodie and removed his phone, holding it up. He found his camera app and angled it to show his face first, his cheeks mottled red with arousal. He moaned openly as he pressed record, not bothering to shy away from looking and sounding obscene. 

“Your cock is so hard, Yoongi. You’re gonna break my ass in half, oh!” He shuddered, biting his lip and twisting his hips down. “Fuck, I’ve never had something this hard up my asshole, Yoongi… I’m gonna gape for hours after I’m done with you.”

He whined, his throat clicking as he struggled to swallow. He turned the camera, filming Yoongi’s body before turning it and balancing it behind him, so he could film himself riding Yoongi. He glanced back, smirking when he realized the camera was catching each long stroke, Yoongi’s cock sinking back into his ass. He spread himself and leaned forward, giving more light for the camera. He fucked himself hard and fast onto Yoongi’s cock, moaning and begging for more, not hiding the pleasure he was getting. He reached back and grabbed the phone, holding it up again.

“I’m gonna come, Yoongi,” he whined. “I’m gonna come from using your thick, hard cock, right here in your coffin. Wanna see?”

He turned the camera and lifted the front of the hoodie. His cock was bouncing with each thrust of his body, slapping gently off Yoongi’s still stomach. 

“I’m so glad you slept shirtless,” Jimin panted. “Make me come, Yoongi… Oh God, please… Fuck my ass harder…” He moved faster, whining high in his throat. It shifted to a shout when his cock began to spurt, shooting ropes of come over Yoongi’s hands and belly. He stroked himself, still riding Yoongi’s cock as he milked the last come from himself. He shuddered and giggled, moving the camera behind him as he pulled off Yoongi. He held his ass open, feeling the cool air tickle him far more intimately than it should.

“Look at that gape,” he mumbled. “Too bad it’s not dripping with your come.” He pulled the camera back as he crawled out of the coffin.

“I think I’m gonna leave you like this… Covered in my come, boxers down… Just so you wake up and know what I did to you.” 

He walked back over to the bed in the corner. “Now, Yoongi… I’m gonna leave the lube right there.” He angled the camera to show himself setting it on the nightstand and picking up the sleeping pill. “And I’m gonna take my sleeping medicine.” He angled the camera back to his face to show him swallowing it. 

“Now I’m going to sleep just like this… No shorts… And I would love it, if you want to… To repay the favor and use my ass while I sleep.” He smirked. “I wonder… Is your come as cold your body was when you first come back? You should let me know… I wonder how that feels inside me…” He shook his head. “Sleep well… See you soon.” He ended the video and sent it to Yoongi, forcing himself to stay awake long enough to hear the buzz of Yoongi’s phone in his coffin. He let himself drift off to sleep, dreams full of sexy, arousing thoughts. 

Jimin’s ass was on fire. He moaned softly, opening his eyes blearily. The first thing he saw was the coffin. He turned his head, spotting the clock… Nearly seven hours since he’d gone to sleep. 

“Morning Sunshine,” Yoongi murmured. Jimin turned, spotting him at his desk. A cup of deep red liquid sat next to him as he worked on something. “How’s your ass?”

“Sore,” Jimin mumbled, reaching back. He was met with a gush of body temperature fluids, pouring from his gaped hole. He whined. “Fuck…” His cock throbbed against the mattress. “What did you do?”

“Me? I simply did as you asked in your video… Very sexy, by the way. Would you like to watch?”

Jimin rolled over, groaning weakly. His cock was hard despite the pain in his ass. It was perfect. “Show me,” he whispered.

Yoongi rose and grabbed his phone. He went over to the bed and sat on it with Jimin, passing him the device. 

Yoongi did far less teasing and talking in his video. He set up the phone at an angle on the nightstand, allowing it to capture most of Jimin’s sleeping body. Yoongi slicked his cock, looking into the camera as he sank into Jimin with a moan. He began to thrust into him quickly, holding Jimin’s ass open as he did. He maintained looking at the camera most of the time, his eyes the same black they were when he went to sleep.

As Jimin watched himself get used on the phone, Yoongi pulled him onto his lap. He’d withdrawn his cock, Jimin could feel. He hissed and whined softly when Yoongi dragged him over and slid back into his come lubed hole.

“It’s sore,” he whined.

“You can get off then, I don’t mind,” Yoongi said, letting his hips go. Jimin smirked. He shifted to get a better angle to watch the video and began to bounce lazily on Yoongi’s cock.

On the video, Yoongi had picked up speed, grunting as he fucked Jimin’s sleeping body. He tossed his head back, shouting and baring his teeth.

Jimin moaned, catching sight of Yoongi’s fangs. He touched his own neck, a little disappointed at the lack of bite marks. Yoongi on video shuddered, his hips going still. He leaned forward, kissing Jimin’s shoulder.

“There’s my first load, Jimin. It was as cold as ice… I’ve never felt your hole squeeze me so tight. Next time I’ll do it when you’re awake… I bet you’ll squeal so pretty when it fills you…” 

Jimin moaned, leaning back against Yoongi. “I wanna feel,” he confessed.

“I’ll make sure you’re awake next time,” Yoongi promised. “Wanna see the rest?”

Jimin nodded, riding Yoongi a little faster.

On video, Yoongi picked up the pace, fucking Jimin’s ass harder than before. He used him for nearly forty minutes, filling his hole three times. Finally, he sagged his shoulders, kissing over Jimin’s back. 

“You’re so fucking sloppy, baby,” he grumbled. He grabbed the phone and angled it down. Jimin’s ass was red, his hole swollen around Yoongi’s cock. He pulled out slowly and come bubbled out, obscene sounds filling the air. Yoongi chuckled. “I’ll leave you like this. When you wake up I’ll give you one more, if you want it.”

The video went black. Jimin leaned forward, his ass aching at the new angle. “I want it,” he whispered.

Yoongi shifted, pulling out only long enough to get onto his knees. He sank back into Jimin’s  already filled ass, and they both moaned at the sloppy noises. Jimin leaned up, wrapping his arms back around Yoongi.

“Bite me when you come,” he whispered.

“You sure?” Yoongi was fucking him hard, his cock twitching.

“Yes,” Jimin promised. He reached down, stroking his cock in time with Yoongi’s thrusts. 

Yoongi was huffing erratically, holding tight to his middle. His fangs grazed Jimin’s shoulder. 

“Are you mine?” Yoongi panted in his ear.

“Yes—“

“Give yourself to me.” Yoongi grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand off his cock. “All the way. Are you mine, Jimin?”

“Yes, yes!” Jimin moaned. 

“I’m yours as well, Park Jimin,” Yoongi whispered. He slammed his cock deep. It began to throb, spilling inside Jimin. At the same time, Jimin felt a sharp pain and then a pressure on his shoulder. Pure pleasure washed over him. His cock began to spurt ropes of come, jerking hard enough to make them land on the floor in front of him. He shouted Yoongi’s name, reaching back and holding his neck as Yoongi drank from him. 

The two collapsed on the bed as their orgasms faded. Yoongi kissed and licked at the wound on Jimin’s shoulder until the blood clotted, sliding his softening cock carefully from Jimin’s aching ass.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked, nudging Jimin’s shoulder with his nose as they cuddled back to chest on the bed.

“I’m great,” Jimin whispered.

“No regrets? Still okay with it?”

“Fully… You?”

“It was so exciting,” Yoongi admitted. “When I woke and felt your come on me… And then saw you sleeping… And that video was stunning. You were so beautiful.”

Jimin smiled shyly. “We’ll have to go easy the next few nights… I’m really sore.”

“Of course. I’ll be gentle for a while, let you heal up.” Yoongi kissed over his shoulder. “Did the bite hurt?”

“No. It felt good… How often can you drink from me?”

“I’d prefer not to often. Living human blood, not bagged, it’s… Very rich and sweet, almost like candy. It can become addictive. I’m honored you let me, but I’ll save it as a treat for myself, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course.” Jimin turned as well as he could. His gaze searched Yoongi’s face, finally dropping down to his mouth, lips pink and cheeks mottled. “It was so interesting. Seeing you in your coffin.”

“I know it can be frightening.”

“No…” Jimin shook his head. “I think it sank in… That I was looking at someone who wasn’t alive. But knowing you’d be awake soon after, it was… This bizarre sort of… Taboo but sexy thing? I’m a freak, aren’t I?” Jimin’s shoulders sagged. 

“No more than I.” Yoongi nudged him again. “We can be freaks together.”

Jimin grinned. “Yoongi?” He said softly.

“Hm?”

“I feel gross.”

“Because of what we did?”

“No, silly.” Jimin laughed. “Because your come is gluing my ass and legs together. I need a shower.”

Yoongi laughed brightly, nodding. “Agreed. Let’s get one... It’s almost dinner, you’re probably starved.”

“You aren’t,” Jimin teased, rising slowly. “No, but I could eat. I’ll take you out after the shower.”

They walked together to the bathroom. “How does eating human food work with being a vampire?”

“Same as it works being alive,” Yoongi said, turning on the water. “It’s just empty calories for me – Which is why I never eat much.”

“There’s so much I feel like I have to learn about what you are… How life is for you.” Jimin crossed his arms as he waited for the water to warm. Yoongi straightened up and wrapped his arms around him. Now that Jimin was aware, he could feel that Yoongi was a few degrees cooler, his skin just a bit paler than human. 

“You can ask anything you need. We have time, and I’ll tell you all you want to know.”

“Yoongi…” Jimin leaned against him, hugging him tightly. He could hear Yoongi’s heart, glugging along at a lethargic pace. He smiled softly. “Can I confess something to you?”

“Hm?” Yoongi asked, resting his chin on Jimin’s shoulder. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” Jimin whispered. 

Yoongi went still, his heart skipping a little faster. “Jimin… Say that again,” he said.

“I… I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Jimin could feel Yoongi’s lips curve up into a smile against his shoulder. “In nearly sixty years of existence… I have never heard more beautiful words,” Yoongi admitted. “I love you too, Jimin… I feel like I’ll love you forever.”

Jimin pulled back, meeting Yoongi’s gaze. His eyes were back to their normal soft brown. He smiled. “Coming from someone who is immortal… That’s the most beautiful thing I could hear.”

Yoongi leaned forward, kissing Jimin deeply. He pulled him close, and Jimin melted into the touch. Yoongi may have cold skin, may drink blood and die once a week – but Jimin had never felt safer or warmer than he did at that very moment in Yoongi’s arms. 

[star-lemonade]

Private Video (1/2)

A.C.E Donghun x Reader

Cw: smut, asmr

Rating: R

Word count: 3.2k

Not betaed. thanks to @silent5tar for reading it ahead of release <3

“I heard your channel is doing well.”

Sujin smiled over the edge of her mug. She had never really understood the appeal of ASMR, but she still supported your endeavors.

“Yes, it is. Next month I will invite you to dinner.”

“Oh, so you really make some money?”

Sujin raised one eyebrow. A look that fit her face well. Even in situations like this her words never came out accusatory.

“Not really, but I can take my best friend out for dinner anyways.”

She smiled as the waitress came with your cakes. No, the youtube channel did not really make money, if you consider the cost of the microphone and filming equipment but it was a good pass time. The feedback from people in the comments felt good too.

“Ah! I remembered something.”

Sujin leaned forward as if people in the cafe would pay attention to your conversation. Of course no one was looking at you.

“Do you remember Donghun?”

Yes, you did remember him. Donghun was Sujin’s ex-boyfriend’s friend. Well, friend is maybe said too much. They had attended some of the same classes and Donghun had hung out with him, and by extension you, sometimes.

“I do. What’s with him?”

“He asked for your number.”

That was surprising. You had talked a few times but mostly you had been there for Sujin, to spend time with her. Why did he want your number now?

“Okay. Why tho?”

She shrugged. At least she had not just given out your number to anyone who asked. A bit more information would have been though.

“No idea.”

You thought about it. Technically you knew him so it was not like you would give your number to a stranger and if you did not like where the conversation was going you could still block him.

“Okay, give him my number then.”

A few days later Donghun asked you to meet him for coffee. The place was in a particularly hip part of town. Every coffee shop here was the picturesque backdrop for some influencer’s instagram post.

You entered the shop and looked around. Donghun was nowhere to be seen. You got yourself a coffee and sat down. The place was cozy with its assorted armchairs and low tables. It would be perfect to come here and read a book. It was not too loud either at the moment at least. You sank into the soft cushions. The armchair felt like a lot of people had previously sat in it. The seat had sunken in the middle but it was still okay. A shadow appeared in your periphery.

“Hi, how have you been?”

A soft voice asked from the side and you jerked up. Donghun had arrived. His dark brown hair fell into his eyes as he smiled, looking down at you. He took off his jacket and hung it over the armchair opposite you. The jeans and plain black sweater looked stylish on him.

“I’m good thanks for asking.”

“Good to hear. I will just get a coffee too.”

He joined the queue for the counter. The coffee shop was not very full at the moment, most people just got a drink to go and left again. Donghun looked different from the last time you had seen him. His hair was longer and dyed a warm shade of brown. The small piercing in the side of his nose was new too. It gave him an even more soft, pretty feeling. He looked like one of those instagram influencers that you followed for their cozy aesthetics and beautiful faces. You wondered if he had a public instagram account and if yes, how many followers did he have. I would follow him. You made a mental note to look for his account later.

He returned with a mug of coffee and sank into the soft armchair.

“So, why did you want to meet me?”

“Ah, yes it’s been a while.”

He looked down at his mug that he held in his hands. Several delicate metal rings decorated his fingers. You could also see a bracelet peek from under his sleeves.

“I have seen your videos and I love your channel.”

“Oh, so you are a fan.”

Your tone was teasing and Donghun smiled.

“I guess so.”

Not a lot of people you knew had much interest in what you did on your channel. Most had never even seen an ASMR video. Sujin had watched some when you started but it was not something that she needed in her life.

“What are your favorite videos then?”

Let’s see if he really watched them or not. You had not done that many videos over the past year or so, maybe 30 videos, but you had enjoyed making them. He leaned forward a bit as he spoke.

“I really liked the one with the lid sounds. Those containers from lush sound really good.”

You nodded.

“Oh and the long one. I listen to it while working.”

Ah yes. The long one. The 3 hour monstrosity had taken forever to edit together. You had made some mistakes and it delayed the whole schedule you had set for yourself. It felt good to hear that your work was appreciated.

“There is actually something I wanted to ask.”

He leaned forward and met your eyes.

“I would love to try it too. Recording a video I mean. Would that be okay with you? Maybe you can publish it, if it’s good?”

So this was his ulterior motive. It made sense. The equipment was pretty pricey so, if you do not know, whether or not you really like recording, it would be better to try first with someone else’s microphones.There was no harm in letting him play around. You seized him up. Donghun would look good on camera, you were sure of that. Personally you only showed your face very few times. It was enough to have good sound and nice close ups of the objects. One thing about him stood up to you the most.

“I think I have an idea for your video already.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, how is next Saturday for you?”

You set up your filming equipment in the small living room. Well, more like the room had become a set and had ceased to be a living room. You had built a soundproof box out of plywood and sound absorbing foam. While it was technically removable, most days you just let it stand there. It was simply too bothersome to move it elsewhere.

Donghun arrived on time. He rang the bell and you let him in. Just as you had told him, he wore an off white sweater. There were some colors that had to be avoided when filming videos, because they did not look as good on camera. The background in the sound proof box was black so this would make him stand out.

“Hi, can I offer you something to drink?”

“A cup of tea, if you have it.”

While you made tea for both of you, Donghun inspected the set. A chair was surrounded by three walls of sound foam. The camera and the microphone were plugged in to your computer and ready to go.

“Here.”

“Thanks.”

He sat down on the chair as there was no other place for him to sit that was not the floor. He blew on his tea.

“So, what have you planned for me.”

“Have you ever seen a hand sounds video?”

These kinds of ASMR videos featured a person rubbing their hand together in different ways. You enjoyed listening to them a lot and while you would have loved to make one yourself, the thought of having people look at you hands that closely made you uncomfortable. Okay, maybe they were doing that already but it would be even more intense.

“Oh. Yes, I have. You think I will be good at that?”

“You have nice hands, so…”

Now that you had said that out loud it seemed a bit odd. As if this was something inappropriate. It implied that you had looked at him. He held up his hands and inspected them. Pretend like that wasn’t awkward. He nodded.

“So, when do we start?”

You closed the blinds on the windows and began to adjust the lighting. Donghun looked really good. His skin had a healthy tone and the long hair, freshly washed, shone in the lights. He had rolled up his sleeves, but you wondered if taking the sweater off would be better.

You gave him a monitor - some earbuds - so he could hear himself while recording. He started to test the microphone and looked surprised at the sound. You could not hear the sound of the microphone but it was okay. You would watch the recording a bit later. Donghun rubbed his fingers together and experimented with speeds. His hands were graceful and you could not help yourself but stare. Even if it was disguised as monitoring the recording.

“Can you come over I wanna try something”

You walked over to him, wondering what it was. He took your hand and pushed the sleeve of your shirt up. While close to the microphone, he ran his palm over your arm. A shiver ran down your spine. His hands were a bit more on the soft side and the way he rubbed your arm, even if unintended, put you on edge. It had been some time since you had had a partner and this felt almost too intimate.

Thankfully Donghun did not notice the effect he had on you because he was focused on the sound only he could hear. You controlled your breathing as it would be audible on the recording. Please stop being so handsome. The faint smell of shampoo and freshly washed clothes tickled your nose. It made your stomach drop.

Okay, but is it possible that I am developing a crush on Donghun right now? That was totally possible. You had always found him kind of attractive, but you had never spent that much time together.

“Are you okay?”

His voice was soft, only audible because it was so quiet. It brought you back to the present.

“Yes...yes! Sorry I…”

You cut yourself off. Don’t mumble. His fingers pressed lightly against the palm of your hand. Almost like holding hands but not quite. He got up, not letting go.

“Can we take a break?”

“Sure.”

You were very aware how close he was and of his fingers gently holding your hand. His eyes were a warm shade of brown that reminded you of chocolate.

“Let’s go then.”

A trip to the coffee place around the corner gave you a bit of time to sort your thoughts. Maybe you should ask Donghun if he was looking for a girlfriend. If he was, you could ask him out. There was no point in denying you felt something for him. Now, the only question that remained was, how could you ask subtly about his relationship status. You could not bring yourself to just ask. What if you made it awkward? What if he laughed in your face? No, you wanted to do it, indirectly. You would come up with something.

After you drank your coffees, you returned to the apartment. Donghun recorded for about two hours. You would have to cut some parts where a truck drove by or where the neighbors talked too loudly but it had looked good.

“Awesome, you did a good job!”

It was true you really liked the video and sounds you had recorded. You set the earphones down and looked up at Donghun.

“Is it really okay if I upload this?”

From a legal standpoint you could not simply upload someone else’s face to your Youtube channel. So you had to ask.

“Yes!”

He beamed as he put on his jacket. You did not want him to leave but could not think of a reason to make him stay. Donghun must be tired. Sitting in the chair for so long was surprisingly exhausting. You knew that from experience.

“Awesome.”

You saw him to the door. Donghun standing in your door was something you would like to see again. When he came back that was.

“It was fun recording today! Thank you for letting me do this.”

His smile was a ray of warm sunlight.

“No problem. I had fun.”

He stood in your door and buried his hands in the pockets of his pants. I bet the hair feels as soft as it looks. It looked like he wanted to say something, probably goodbye. The time was now.

“Would you like to grab a coffee sometime?”

He looked a bit surprised but a smile appeared on his face.

“Yes, I would like that.”

“Good.”

Your heart had skipped a beat when he had said that. Hopefully it would not be too long before you met again.

“See you around.”

The video with the title “Hand sounds with my friend” was a big success. Comments and likes poured in all day. One of the most upvoted ones read:

“I loved the part you did together. Can we get a part two? 😘”

The thought of Donghun running his hands along your skin was dangerous. It had felt so good. It had been two weeks since you had filmed the video but the memory was still vivid in your mind. The tickling of his fingertips brushing over your arm. The warmth of his hands and the smell of his hair were still there. You wanted to run your hands through the soft hair, wondering how it would feel. His head would tilt up and he would look up at you with those sparkling eyes. Maybe he would kiss your hands. Kiss your arm. Kiss your lips.

Your phone vibrated and you jerked from your daydream.

“Hey, do you wanna get dinner tonight?”

Donghun. As if your thoughts had summoned him…

“Sure, where do you want to go?”

Was this a date? You did not want to ask if this was a date or not. No need to make things awkward.

About 20 minutes before you had to leave for your maybe date, you stood before your wardrobe and weighed your options. The nice dress may signal your interest but could also be perceived as overkill for a casual date with a friend. Wearing a simple jeans and sweater or cardigan combo might seem too much like you were not interested and saw this more as a “friends going out to eat” situation.

You put on the dress. It showed way more cleavage than you remembered. You did not feel comfortable enough to wear it today. Jeans and cardigan it was. As fast as possible you changed.

In order to relieve some nervousness you went to the bathroom and started putting on makeup in record time. Usually you were too lazy to put on makeup but in situations like now it felt like armour. Whatever may happen today at least you looked your best.

The worry you had had about a look overkill dissipated, when you saw Donghun. He wore black suit pants, a white dress shirt and a cream colored blazer. A black silk shawl was tied like a ribbon around his neck instead of a tie. Your dress would have looked down right shabby next this. Donghun looked absolutely stunning.

“Hi!”

“Hello!”

He smiled a small smile. It made your heart jump.

You opened the glass door and entered. The restaurant was not very fancy and Donghun seemed out of place. One of the tables in the back was free and he walked towards it with unwavering steps.

He sat down and you took the chair opposite. You busied yourself with choosing something to eat. The laminated pages of the menu made your fingers even more sweaty. It’s not necessary to be this nervous. Calm down. But look at him! Is he playing a prince in a drama or something. Who shows up to a dinner with a friend looking like that?

It was true, he looked extra good today. The only logical reason seemed to be that he saw this as a date. Maybe it was a good idea to signal your interest.

“I really like your outfit.”

He looked down as if to check what exactly he was wearing.

“Ah, yes. Thanks. I was taking photos with some friends earlier.”

“Oh.”

You did not realize that you had said that out loud until he gave you a questioning look. Pretending to be suddenly very interested in the menu you looked down and hoping your blush was not visible.

The waiter took your orders and left. You still felt awkward and avoided looking at him by looking around the room. Some of the older men at the other table were clearly talking about Donghun. He, however, was not bothered by the way people looked at him. In general it seemed like not a lot could dampen his confidence. One time you had hung out with Sujin, her ex and some more friends, you had played some game. Your recollection of the night was not very good but the result of the game - or was it a dare? - was that Donghun had to put on one of Sujin’s crop tops. He wore it for the rest of the night even when you went to a club. Now that you thought about it, this was actually something you admired about him.

“I don’t think i have asked, but what do you do for a living?”

Donghun had mentioned working but you did not remember what it was that he did. As it turned he worked as a system administrator at a company not too far away. On the side he had an instagram account with a few ten thousand followers. Not a huge following but definitely something. You pulled out your phone and searched for his account.

“I will stalk your account later.”

“But don’t like all the old posts or people will notice.”

Eyes sparkled mischievously and you laughed. The few photos you had seen looked exactly how you had expected. All of them had a hard to describe coziness to them. Like the one of Donghun sitting in bed with a mug.

“How have you been doing?”

The food had arrived and you felt more relaxed around Donghun. He obviously did not think this was a date so there was no pressure on you to look your best. It was a bit disappointing but also a relief. You talked about your work and how you thought about changing jobs.

“Would you quit if your channel was making enough money?”

“hmm.”

You had thought about that before but reality was complicated.

“Right now i’m just doing it for fun but if it was a matter of paying the bills, I don’t think it would be as fun.”

Donghun nodded.

“It’s not very stable.”

“That too.”

If your channel did very well and you quit your shitty, but stable job, you would have to worry more about what videos would do well instead of enjoying what you do.

“Ah, speaking of the channel, I wanted to ask you something.”

Donghun looked up from his plate.

“The video we recorded did really well and people asked for another. Would you like to make another video with me?”

[tiny-ghost-boi]

Kinktober Day Three; Mutual Masterbation/ Toys, Bakugou

Warnings: Smut, lots of cursing, dirty talk, minor injury before everything

Reader’s Body Type: up to your imagination, no implied gender or sex (yes it’s possible to write smut without specifying sex, you can learn a lot from Yagami Yato)

Reader’s Quirk: can turn light particles into solid matter

NSFW Under the Cut

=============================================================

It’s common knowledge that you and Bakugou are dating. So everyone thought that if Bakugou was in a relationship, you’d be the only person he was sweet to, implying that he’d likely let you win when you sparred. This was half true.

Bakugou was really sweet to you in private, but he did not hold back when you trained. He wanted you both to reach your full potential and it wouldn’t happen if he held back.

You dodged every attack Bakugou sent your way, using your quirk to create small shields and walls to protect yourself from his explosions. The ground shook beneath you and the wall behind you shattered. You ducked and ran, keeping close to the ground as he tracked your movements.

You turned suddenly, ducking behind him and running up to grab him, hoping to trap him under a platform made by your quirk. He turned in an instant, his red eyes locking onto you. He quickly hit you hard in the face, setting off an explosion at the same time and blasting you hard to the ground.

When the smoke cleared, his eyes widened. You had quick reactions, so you should have been able to put up a shield to protect yourself, and even if you hadn’t you could get up from all his attacks.

But you lay still on the ground, unmoving. His eyes widened and he crouched down, grabbing you and picking you up. His heart sped up and his fingers tightened around your shoulders.

“Babe?” you didn’t answer. “BABE?!” you turned towards him, slowly opening your eyes and looking up at him, fear swirling in your e/c orbs. Then, a malicious grin grew on your face and his eyebrows cocked up in confusion.

You quickly made a long pole behind your back quickly swinging it around and slamming it against his back. His back gave in his surprise and he fell down on top on you. You grabbed his wrist and lifted him up over him and kicking him over you, he landed hard on his back, his legs out of bounds. You choked out a cocky laugh, ignoring the pain in your body. 

“I win.”

“You cheated.” he grumbled back, reaching up and tangling his fingers in yours. You squeezed his hand, forcing yourself to sit up as he stood, helping you to your feet.

The two of you were laughing as you leaned against him, pressing a soft kiss against his skin.

“There were no rules about pretending to be hurt. Besides, you really did hurt me, meanie~” you stuck your tongue out, teasing him. He just laughed, putting you in a gentle headlock and practically dragging you to the sidelines.

“Whaddaya expect?” he chuckled. “That’s how sparring is going to end everytime with me. We’re both gonna end up with a couple bruises.” He let go of you and you leaned against the wall, rolling your eyes.

“A couple? Serisouly? You bitch slapped me with the extra force of a fucking explosion. That causes more than ‘a couple bruises.’ That could’ve killed me.” you meant it in a teasing way, but the way Katsuki tensed up in guilt made you feel bad. 

“I- It couldn’t’ve killed you, r-right?” he glanced at you with nervous eyes. “Right?”

“Well it didn’t, so it’s okay. I’m sorry.”

“Why the hell are you apologizing? You’re right? I could’ve killed you!” he shouted, your chest constricted, Bakugou never wanted to hurt you, ever, he actively went out of his way to protect you, even if it was annoying at times. 

“Katsuki, calm down. It’s okay.” you walked towards him, resting your hand on his shoulder. He tried to shrug it off but you only tightened your grip. “I was only teasing, I would’ve been fine no matter what! It’s going to be alright.” His shoulders untensed uner your fingers, and he pulled you into a hug.

“Yeah, I know, dumbass. I was teasing too.” you chuckled. 

“We’re finished with training, so technically we can head back to the dorms now. Whaddaya think, scary movies I hate? Comedy movies you hate? Reenacting your fav romantic manga? Maybe something more... spicy?” you suggested, your tone starting out sweet and innocent and ending anything but. You felt heat radiating off his body as his fingers gripped you a little tighter.

“All of those sound good, but I’m particularly attracted to that last option.” his voice was a low growl in your ear, and you felt heat pool in your crotch. “Let’s have the old lady fix us ‘fore we head back, kay?”

“It’s a date~” you purred, giving him a kiss on the cheek before walking over to Recovery Girl.

You were on each other the second you entered Katsuki’s dorm, he was on top of you on the bed, making out with you as if his life depended on it. His hands trailed up your body, hastily removing your clothes.

“Ow!” you exclaimed when he brushed against a large bruise on your stomach. Both of you frowned as he sat up, still very horny.

“How the fuck am I supposed to fuck you senseless if you’re hurt.” 

“You’re hurt too.” you scoffed, sitting up and kissing him. “I can fuck myself senseless anyways.”

“What so you’re kicking me out?” he pouted, disapointed. “When I’m so turned on?”

“No no, I want to try something new. Let’s touch ourselves and watch each other. Like double-youeryism or something. What do you think?” you winked at him and stuck out your tongue. his face reddened, but he smirked.

“That actually doesn’t sound half-bad, Teddy Bear~ you’re going to wish my dick was deep inside you instead of just your fingers~” you leaned forward, tugging his lip between your teeth.

“Who said I was using my fingers?” you purred. He growled against your lips, placing his hand on your hip. 

“Just so long as you know my dick’s better than anything you’ll ever touch.”

You reach over to your dresser and dig through the drawers and pull out a small box. You opened it to reveal several sex toys. You pulled out a couple. One was a long purple remote-controlled dildo and the other was a string of small cylinder-shaped vibrators in a circle. Also remote-controlled. You handed him the circle of vibes and the remote to the dildo, while you kept the dildo and the remote to his toy.

“I’ll control your toy and you’ll control mine, got it? That way we can help each other cum.” he nodded, putting on his toy as you prepped yourself for yours. His eyes were trained on you as you pressed your finger-pads against that special spot inside you. 

“Ah~ I bet you wish you were fingering me instead, huh? Wish you could feel how exited I am?” Katsuki bit his lip and nodded.

“I bet you wish you could be sucking my cock, wish you were choking on it, huh?” His hand teased the tip of his cock as you touched yourself. You grabbed the remote to Bakugou’s toy and turned it on to it’s lowest setting. He bit back a moan.

“Fuck, not fair, baby~ I can’t tease you like that~” he reached forward to touch you but you smacked his hand away. 

“Hands on the merchandise~” you teased, licking your lips and eyeing him. “Trust me I wish I could touch your beautiful body but I’m obeying the rules of our cute little masterbation cult~” he chuckled, disapointed. 

“Damn, too bad~” you pressed the tip of the dildo against your sex, eyes teasingly asking him to turn it on. He shook his head.

“If you want it, you’re not getting it. It’s your punishment for not letting me touch you.”

“Damn, I guess I’ll just have to do it the old fashioned way.” you chuckled, sliding down on top of it with a pleasured sigh. You let out a gasp when it suddenly started vibrating inside you.

“Ah~ I thought you weren’t going to- fuck~ turn it on~” you panted slightly, cheeks red. Bakugou just smirked at you, jerking himself off to the sight of you riding the dildo. You turned up the power of his toy and he threw his head back with a moan.

“Fuck~ Teddy Bear, damn I wish I was fucking you right now~” you thrusted the toy faster inside you, moaning.

“I- I wish that too~” you lay on your back, fucking the toy up into yourself as Katsuki turns up the power, you can feel yourself tighten around the toy as you moan out.

“Ah~ Katsuki I think- I think I’m gonna- fuuuuuck~” you came hard, Katsuki moaned out.

“Fuck that was so hot, cumming from that toy instead of my cock, such a bad little Teddy Bear, so naughty, (fuck) I can’t wait to cum all over that gorgeous body of yours~” he dirty talked “You liked it, didn’t you? cumming from something other than my cock?”

“Y- yes~” you murmured, looking up at him and turning the power up all the way, Katsuki let out a choked out moan twitching and cumming hard over his hand.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fucking fuck fuck fuck!” he moaned. “Teddy Bear~” you tossed your head back onto the pillows looking up at the ceiling. Your view was soon blocked by the smirking blonde.

“That was fun, more fun than I thought it would be, we should totally do that again~” you nodded, pulling him closer and kissing him deeply. 

“I love you, Katsu~”

“I love you too... dumbass~”

[missfay49]

Just Speak

Summary: Janus and Remus being domestic.  Well, as domestic as they can be.

Warnings: body horror, space, aliens, suggestive content, food, poison mention, venom mention, talk of medical procedures

Word Count: ~2060

AO3

Down Time

“Say it.  Say it, pleeeaze?  Please, please, please, please-”

Remus is crouching in front of the kitchen table, only the top of his head and his fingertips visible from where he’s gripping the edge.  His eyes are wide and teeth bared.

Janus is sitting across from him, elbows on the table, face in his hands, staring at Remus through his fingers.  He looks tired and more than a little disturbed.  

“Remus, honestly?  I don’t know if I can take another one.  Do I enjoy a good philosophical debate now and then?  Yes.  That’s not this.  You’re trying to destroy me!”  He squints and sits up, lowering his arms.  “It’s rude.”

“Hee!  Last one, I prom-ise.”  Remus rolls the ‘r’ and jumps from his crouch onto the table.  By the time he lands, he’s an eight-legged Boston Terrier, bouncing and giving Janus authentic puppy eyes - several of them.

Janus releases a shuddering sigh of defeat.  

“Fine,” he mutters through gritted teeth, a thousand-yard stare overtaking him.

“Pinky,” he asks.  “Are you pondering... what I’m pondering?”

Terrier-Remus erupts into a full-grown side again, standing on top of the table.  Janus leans back, looking up at him and grimacing.

“YES!”  He cackles in triumph, then pauses, confused.  “I mean, no!”  He smirks again.

“Unless, of course, you are also pondering the expansion of the universe and its correlation to black holes, because if matter disappears into the black holes of our universe, yet we continue to grow, then that implies not only that pocket universes are forming on the other side of those black holes, but that our own universe is also a pocket dimension formed on the other side of a black hole we cannot see - in a universe above our own - supplying our universe with matter at such a rate that we cannot lose it fast enough?!  And are you further pondering whether life first formed in our universe or the one above ours, and if it formed there first, does that mean that they put us here on purpose?  Are they watching us?  Are we just an experiment to them, CURSED,” he screeched. “-to struggle for the sick curiosity of an ancestral yet alien race that may decide to terminate us at any moment?!”

Remus stands over him, hands clutching the air, panting at the end of his monologue.  Janus stares up at him, mouth agape.  Logan laughs.

Logan?

Janus turns slowly, reluctant to take his eyes off the spectacle before him.  Logan is sitting cross-legged on the couch behind them, apparently having watched the whole thing.  

“Hilarious.”  He puts a hand to his chin.  “The odds of Janus pondering that exact same thing at the same time are preposterous.  Excellent joke, Remus.”

“Spaghetti!”

“That was not a joke - it was an existential crisis!”  Janus yells at the both of them.  

“I am not sure why it should cause any distress.”  Logan says evenly.  “While it is technically possible for that scenario to be true, it is not more true now than it was before you were aware of it.  And there is literally nothing we can do about it, given our species’ current technological progress.”

While Logan speaks, Remus climbs down, sits at the table, and conjures a plateful of piano wire covered in marinara.  He’s spinning a fork into the mess, nodding sagely all the while.  Janus watches him take a crunchy bite.

“This is why Virgil left, you know.”  Janus simpers, summoning a glass of… soup.  

“Oh, boo, Janny.”  Remus speaks out of a second mouth he’s just added to his shoulder.  It’s grin belies something sinister.  “He left for much worse reasons than that!”

Janus sighs into his wine.  Logan walks over to join them at the table, summoning a notepad and pencil.

“Remus, could you describe what is happening to your teeth right now?  I’m curious.”

“Absolutely!”

On a Mission

“Remus?  Darling, where are you?”  Janus calls from the kitchen.  A shape appears to the side, just catching the corner of his eye.  Remus is inexplicably soaking wet.

“Ah, there you are.”  Janus claps his hands together.  “Remus, dear, did you place this giant terrarium here just off the kitchen?”  Remus peers into a thick jungle sprouting out where the oven used to be.

“Sounds like me, but I don’t remember.  Are there dangerous creatures in it?”

“If the shrieks are any indication, undoubtedly.”

“Then, yes!”  Remus shimmies, shaking off the water.  Janus admires the spray, smiling.

“That’s exactly what I wanted, thank you.  Come along, now, we’ve got specimens to collect.”  With a flourish, Janus twirls around and strides into the foliage.  Remus snaps his fingers, donning a stained and battered explorer’s outfit, equally as wet as before, and leaps in after him shouting something about ‘smashing!’.

Working Late

Remus tiptoes down the hallway, leaving a trail of flour-based footprints behind him.  He’s dusted halfway up his shins with the stuff.  He slows and stops when he sees the light still on under his target’s doorway.  Janus is usually asleep by now.  He twists the knob, willing the hinges to squeal with their utmost spooky capacity.  

The bed is empty and neatly made.  Janus is at his desk instead, cape and hat hanging off the back of the chair.  His gloves are nowhere to be seen.  There’s a pen still upright in his hand, but his head rests on his arm and he’s fast asleep.  Even the noise doesn’t stir him. 

Looming over his shoulder, Remus examines what was keeping him up so late.  Small stoppered vials full of pale liquids are lined up in a specially-made wooden crate.  Latex gloves, wash cloths, and a mask are discarded atop a metal tray.  A pair of safety goggles are resting on Janus’ head.  

Half the vials are affixed with permanent labels in a clean handwritten script.  The rest just have sticky notes and scribbled words.  

Taxine alkaloids, Taxus brevifolia

Abrus precatorius

“Oo hoo hoooo!”  Remus claps excitedly as black tentacles tear through his clothing.  They wrap around Janus and lift him from the chair with surprising grace.  Janus only startles for a moment, settling back down when he recognizes the feel of the limbs surrounding him.  

“I’m nearly finished,” he murmurs.  Remus just presses him down into the bed, tendrils pulling down the blankets.  As the tentacles pull away, Janus shivers; nothing but his boxer briefs remain on him, the rest having vanished somewhere between the bed and the desk.  He pulls the blankets up tight as Remus perches on the footboard.  The tentacles are slowly slurping back into his body.

“Prenez une petite mort.  Your nightmares are more interesting when you get more sleep.”  Remus grins wide, revealing rows of shiny, dagger-like teeth.  A tentacle passes by the desklamp and hits the switch.  In the darkness, he sounds ravenous.

“Don’t worry.  I’ll stay right by your side…”

“Fine.  Goodnight, Remus.”

Janus sleeps soundly knowing nothing will get past his bodyguard tonight.

Almost Ready

“What scent should I use?”  Remus has brought three different perfume bottles for Janus to choose from.  “Ozone, battery acid, or meat?”

“Oo, tough call...”  Janus deadpans, focusing on tying a bow onto the crate just so.  “Sure you don’t have bloody mouse-y with a dash of hot sauce?”  He slaps a hand over his own mouth when he realizes what he’s said.

“A classic!  You got it, Santa-snakey.”  Remus snaps his fingers.  The first three bottles vanish, and a fourth appears.  It’s filled with a thick, bright red paste.  

“For the love of Liza Minnelli, do not spray that in here.”

The Gift

Logan sits unsuspecting in the living room having a cup of tea and reading an article about Maria Skłodowska-Curie on his phone.  The dark duo appear out of thin air on either side of him, the rustle and movement of the couch his only clues, except…  Logan puts his tea down.  

“Remus, what is that smell?”  

“Best not to think about it too hard,” Janus interjects.  “Here.”

Janus holds a hand out before Logan, a mysterious shape underneath a black cloth.  He flings the cloth away dramatically to reveal a present wrapped in gold-foil paper and a black silk ribbon.  Logan blinks at the surprise.

“This wrapping is quite aesthetically pleas- oof!”

Remus drops a ten-pound box in Logan’s lap, knocking his phone to the ground.  Janus deftly moves his gift out of the way.  The box is wrapped in yesterday’s paper and tied in a series of reef knots.  The top facing article features the latest alligator attack suffered by yet another “Florida Man”.

“Thanks!”  Logan squeaks out.  “I will just open this first, if you don’t mind, Janus?”  The other side nods.  

Logan carefully unties the knots and opens the box - the cake box.  Because inside is a pale blue frosted cake with rock candy cutting through the side.

“It is beautiful.  Is it meant to resemble blue agate?”  Logan carefully lifts the cake out of the box and places it on the table.

“It’s meant to resemble a vagina!  It’s a vageode cake!  I made it last night.”  

“Is this another reference I need to learn?”  Logan asks them both, but Janus just shrugs while Remus pokes holes in the cake and laughs.

“Mine next,” Janus reminds him.

“Ah, yes.”  Logan accepts the gold package Janus hands him and undoes the bow with one pull.  Underneath the foil is a smooth wooden crate holding eight vials.

“Oh!  ‘Nerium oleander’.  ‘Atropa belladonna’.”  Logan starts reading off the labels.  “Poisons?”

“And venoms-s-s.”  Janus says low.  “So you can help Thomas’ competitors- I mean, his fellow actors, take a well deserved break.  Or, you know, develop life-saving antivenoms, or whatever.  Your choice.”

“Thank you?  I am not going to poison Thomas’ colleagues.”

“You can test them on me!”  Remus winks at him.  

“Surely that won’t be necessary.  Although, testing does provide a lot of data.”  Logan looks thoughtful for a moment.  “Say, do you think- wait, no, that’s unethical.”

“Who cares about ethics, you’re not a doctor!  Tell me tell me!”  Remus bounces on the cushion, making a horrible sucking sound with each rebound.

“Well, I would need to do some research first.  Is it still considered an autopsy if the patient is alive?”  Logan picks his phone off the ground and starts opening tabs.

“Wait!”  He stops himself.  “I’ve got your gifts upstairs.  I didn’t know when you would be popping in.  I’ll be right back.”

Logan leaves the two sitting on the couch.  Janus preens.  

“Another highly successful encounter.  Do you think he’s caught on to our devious plan, yet?”  He smirks at Remus.

“Definitely not.  What was the plan again?”  

Janus tsks.  

“Our very evil plan to befriend the nerd under the guise of traditional holiday celebrations, reconcile all the sides with his help, and thereby help Thomas achieve self-actualization?  You know, the ultimate plan?”  He squints at Remus.  “Did we not go over the plan?”  

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Then why did you make that cake?”

“Cause we harvested all those poisons and I wanted to try my hand at creating a vagina!”  Remus tears a chunk of cake off and starts to eat it.  Blueberry filling starts to pour out.

“You know they’re not blue, right?”  

“Maybe not the ones you’ve seen.”  Crumbs are falling everywhere.  Janus withholds any more questions to prevent a bigger mess and texts a warning to Logan not to eat the poisoned cake.  

At that moment, the front door swings open.  The pair on the couch freeze.  Roman and Virgil start loudly carrying in armfuls of groceries, complaining about the lack of snow.  

“Patton, we’re back!”  

Footsteps upstairs are rapidly approaching.  Janus nods to Remus.

“That’s our cue.”  They stand up as one.

“Hey!”  Virgil shouts.  “What are you two doing here?!”

“Villains!  We’re being invaded by villains!”  Roman cries out, rushing into the living room.

“Now, Remus!”  Janus drops out of sight with a swirl of his cape just in time to avoid the explosion of glitter as Remus’ form erupts like a balloon.

When Patton comes downstairs, Roman is standing in the middle of the room spitting out neon green glitter with his sword drawn, and Virgil is ranting about perimeter security and motion detectors, floor sensors and alarms.  

Logan comes down a moment later carrying two gift bags.  

“Hm.”  His phone buzzes.

The cake is a lie.

Come visit anytime.

@sanderssidesgiftxchange​ @on-and-on-we-go-forever​

[eleanorbloom]

[OH] When You’re Ready (Bryce L. x f! MC x Ethan R.)

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything of the Open Heart World, it belongs to Pixelberry Studios. The name Eleanor Bloom and her story was created by me.

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey. 

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning: Some angst, adult language, some adult situations. This is definitely a NS-FW fanfiction so anyone under 18 years old MUST NOT READ IT.

Summary: Bryce has decided to let go of Eleanor because she’s in love with Ethan Ramsey. But a turn in her relationship with the attending might change Bryce's plans.

_____________

Chapter 1: Why.

So many nights trying to find someone new

They don’t mean nothing compared to you

 He opened the door of his apartment, staggering. The celebration at Donahue’s had been wilder than he expected. Too many tequilas he couldn’t deny to Jackie. And too much anxiety to kill with alcohol.

Bryce sat on the sofa and sighed. He finally had a break to process what had happened today. Eleanor was safe. The Ethics Committee had decided to not suspend her, and Teresa Martínez’s family had withdrawn the lawsuit against Edenbrook, as they were grateful for what Eleanor did for their mother. In the end, all her effort and dedication had been rewarded.

He was happy about it, but more relieved that Eleanor wouldn’t leave. Bryce had been feeling increasingly afraid of that possibility, although he was trying to stay positive. The world wasn’t a fair place, the doctors didn’t have to understand the real reasons that led Eleanor to help Teresa Martínez. They would only see incompetence, malpractice, but never the honest desire that Mrs. Martínez enjoyed her last days traveling, just as she always dreamed since she was a child.

The very idea that things had been different caused him intense pain. Thinking of all the suffering that Eleanor could’ve to go through was almost unbearable. Also, the fact that she had to leave and he couldn’t see her anymore. But mainly it was her pain that affected him the most. She was one of the few people who deserve all the good in the world, for her kind heart, her dedication, her solidarity with her colleagues and patients. She didn’t deserve anything that was happening to her, but at least it was all was over now.

And now another thought came to his mind: Eleanor was with him right now. With Ethan Ramsey.

He wished with all his heart that whatever they had now would work for them, because she was truly interested in him, to his misfortune. But he respected her decision. From the day she told him that they couldn’t keep their casual hookups because she was feeling things for Ethan Ramsey, he respected her decision and wished her well. Every time Bryce saw her or saw them, he wished them all the best from the bottom of his heart, although they were apparently far from it.

Since Ramsey had left the hospital, he hadn’t reached out to her not a single time, not even to ask how she was or to support her in the difficult process she was living with the Ethics Committee. What asshole leaves Eleanor at a time like that, when she was supposed to be someone Ramsey cared about? When she heard from Eleanor that Ramsey had not contacted her, he felt uncontrollable anger but did his best to not say anything. Yes, he was suffering for his friend, Naveen Banerji, but Eleanor, with his life on the verge of collapse, still cared for Banerji and him, she hid the secret from her friends and colleagues, and then, when she found the cure for the old man, she used her time to cure him instead of preparing for the Ethics Hearing. But the Great Ethan Ramsey couldn’t give her a fucking hour just to support her because it was more important his suffering and sense of failure than what Eleanor was going through.

Eleanor had left him for a selfish, insufferable ass who was unable to use his position or his freedom and time to support her when she most needed it. Instead, Bryce had spent all the time he needed to recover from the poorly sleeping hours every surgical resident has since Medical School, acompannying and helping her to get the support of senior physicians from Edenbrook.  

Well, yes, in the end, Ramsey did use his contacts to help her. But of moral support? No signs.

And now she was with him. He saw her approaching Ramsey when he entered Donahue’s, and how quickly they left.

Bryce couldn’t judge her; it was her feelings after all. But he sensed that the following events wouldn’t be good news. There was the rumor that Ethan Ramsey would return to his old position at Edenbrook, so he would continue that stormy dynamics of setting limits with Eleanor because he was her boss, but still breaking those limits at the slightest pressure. And he would continue to have Eleanor in limbo, waiting for him to make up his mind and choose her despite his fears. Waiting for him to decide to give her everything she deserved without conditions or hesitation. All that love, attention, and affection that he wanted to give her, and that somehow were still there, waiting for his chance.

He sighed again.

“Everything happens in time, Bryce. Don’t rush it, ” he said to himself before making his way to his bedroom to catch some sleep.

The next day, the good news were announced. Harper Emery left her position as Chief of Medicine and would return to her scrubs as Head of Neurosurgery. Naveen Banerji would take her position, so Ethan Ramsey was officially Director of Diagnostics. The last big news was that Eleanor had won the junior fellow competition and would be spending her second year of residency as a junior member of the Diagnostic Department.

He was so happy for her because it was something she really deserved. All the sweat, blood, and tears that she had put into that competition had found its reward. Besides, she deserved it for her human qualities. However, he also knew that the news implied a turn in her relationship with Ramsey. Aside from being her boss, now they would be colleagues, they would work much closer, and if Ethan already intended to put boundaries between them, her position in the Team would put much more difficulty on that. Bryce didn’t want to take this news as a light at the end of the tunnel, an opportunity after so much confusion, but he couldn’t lie to himself. Deep down he wanted this to complicate things, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to see Eleanor suffering again. He wasn’t a selfish bastard to want something like that.

Bryce saw the exchange of awkward glances between Ethan and Eleanor, while Naveen Banerji gave them a knowing smile. It was clear that the old man knew what was going on between the two and didn’t seem to care at all. Probably Naveen would be in the front line encouraging Ethan to stop being such an idiot and accept his feelings for Eleanor. Hell, if he himself didn’t have feelings for Eleanor, he would be by Banerji’s side, with popcorn cheering Ramsey to finally make up his mind and stop making Eleanor suffer. But of course, that was not the case. He was hopelessly in love with her.

Ethan looked away, embarrassed, and quickened his pace to catch up with Naveen. Eleanor turned to him. Her smile was so bright that the sun would be jealous of the light, warmth and beauty that emanated from her, happiness and pride swelling her heart.

Bryce opened his arms, inviting her for a hug.

“C’mere!”

Eleanor cheerfully received the hug, rejoicing in the warmth she only found in Bryce’s arms. From the first hug many months ago, both hiding in a supply closet, Eleanor had been conscious of the healing powers of his hugs. At that time, he consoled her of her first breakdown on her first day at Edenbrook. And now, that embrace was simply showing the pride and happiness Bryce was feeling for her achievement. He, who had always trusted her, even more than herself. He, who had always shown her the way to self-confidence and fight for what she believed in.

“You did it, Elle. You really did it”

“Yes! I am still in shock. Yesterday, this time, my life was still threatened, and look at me now! I won the competition. Well, not technically because it was finished when Ethan left … But I was chosen by Naveen Banerji himself, my mentor’s mentor”

“Yes, and the guy whose life you saved. It was the least he could do”.

“Well, I think so,” She shrugged, “But I’d like to think that I made it for all my merits in the competition.”

“Of course, Elle. You deserved this spot more than anyone, apart from being an excellent doctor, you are an extraordinary human being. And that’s what makes you better than anyone.”

“Aww Bryce,”Eleanor hugged him again, touched, “You’re always so flattering. I hope someday I know my qualities just as well as you know them.”

“Well, just keep hanging out with me and this self-assurance will infect you. But be careful, our friends could stop tolerating you as they do with me sometimes because my ego is too big.”

“Oh, I think I could reach a healthy balance between knowing my worth and not overstepping the limits of self-centeredness”

“Oh, are you implying I’m out of it?”—Bryce raised an eyebrow, serious.

“No, but you are always very close to the verge. Since you haven’t surpassed it yet, that’s why I still consider you my friend”

“Oh, you honor me,” He feigned a modest bow.

“Well, I should get back to my patients before the attendings chew me out for wasting my time with a scalpel jockey.”

“Oh my gosh, Eleanor, how can you be so cruel to someone who treats you well and fills your soul with self-confidence? I think the position went to your head”

“Who are you again? ”She asked, looking at him from head to toe.

Bryce grinned, “I’m going to become Harper Emery’s favorite and I’ll be the one to ask you who you are. We all know that surgery is more popular than internal medicine.”

They both laughed.

“You are such a child, Lahela. Never change.”

Eleanor raised the palm of her hand.

“I won’t, "Bryce replied as they high fived. 

He saw her leaving to the Nurse's Station at a light pace.  He couldn’t suppress a smile. He was extremely happy to see her succeed on her first day back at Edenbrook. She deserved that and more.

As he supposed, things between Eleanor and Ethan didn’t go well. From what he could observe and the things he heard from Eleanor’s drunken babbling, Ethan was trying to set serious boundaries between them, but not strong enough to prevent them from ending up kissing in his office to kill the tension or suppress the pain of not being able to be together as much as they wanted, simply because Ethan didn’t want it that way.

As the weeks went by, the situation became increasingly annoying to Bryce. Although he had made up his mind to forget Eleanor, he still unconsciously wanted her to realize that he was everything she needed and deserved. And he felt stupid waiting for her because it was clear that Eleanor had no eyes for anyone but Ethan, even if he kept ignoring her.

His annoyance reached such a point that one day he made the decision to avoid any contact with Eleanor and her friends as much as he could. He began to spend time with his surgical mates in his interest to meet new people and lose himself in the sea of parties and girls with whom to spend the night.

That night, he went to Donahue’s with the interns knowing that Eleanor and her friends had a night shift, so he wouldn’t have to meet her. He took a seat next to Rosa and Charles.

“You had a fight with your nerdy medical friends, or what?” Rosa asked when she saw him take a seat.

“No, why?”

“Because you have been spending a suspicious amount of time with us lately, when you used to be with them all the time.”

“I needed a change,” he shrugged nonchalantly,“Now that the competition’s over, there’s not so much gossip around them.”

“Sure, ”Rosa replied, not convinced.

A few shots later, several surgical residents were gathered. Including a third-year resident Bryce had always found attractive because she had an air of Shania Twain, and she was the first musical crush he had ever had.

Apparently, the reputation of being Bryce Lahela was also well received by older residents, because after two hours of drinks, Bryce was there, crossing the door to his apartment with his arms wrapped around Caroline’s waist, the attractive surgical resident who aspired to specialize in plastic surfery.

The woman was incredibly neat and was dressed impeccably. She had an exquisite aroma and a look so inquisitive that it seemed like she was looking through his skin. Although, she was actually scrutinizing his skin.

“I can’t believe it’s real,” she said, touching his cheeks with her fingertips.

“Me? Of course I am.”

Caroline rolled her eyes up, “No, your skin. I was always struck by how smooth it looked, like you were a doll. And I think you are.”

“I think this level of observation is more intimidating than having to pose for an hour naked in front of the whole hospital”

“I bet you wouldn’t mind spending your life walking naked with that body you have.”

“And I won’t in a couple of moments either.”

Caroline cut the distance between their bodies with one swift movement, kissing him. They continued their journey to the room, where the clothes went down the floor and the four walls muffled the moans and exclamations that came from their bodies. And so came the culmination of that long-awaited search for pleasure on the skin of another woman, with the intention of erasing the marks of someone from the past, believing that it would help him end his agony.

“Crap, Lahela. I always try to have low expectations, but you have proven me wrong.”

“Prove you wrong?”

“I thought you weren’t the wonder that people said, but you are.”

But no. Instead of ending with the ego energized by ending up banging with the woman he intended to, and even more flattered for his performance; Bryce ended with an existential void that decomposed him the entire night.

“And you are as attractive as I imagined you would be, since my first week as a surgical intern.”

Caroline didn’t know it, but those were the hollowest words Bryce had ever said. Without true charm, candor, interest, or desire. And he said them just to not be rude with her. 

“Shut up, it sounds like you have a crush with your elementary school teacher, and we don’t have that much of an age difference”

Bryce simply gave her a humorless smile.

He woke up the next morning with the bed empty.

He sighed with relief. The truth was he had no intention of dealing with Caroline or faking a smile or joking about the night before, because he was in such a shitty mood, he hoped it would at least let him greeting the staff and patients before locking himself in his bad mood.

In his intention to try to be better about the situation with Eleanor, he was worse now.

Weeks later, he tried again, but with the same result. During the encounter, he couldn’t help but wish that she was the one in his arms, or that she was by his side after the act was over. Was it Caroline, or any other resident, or even a Tinder date, the result was the same. He still missed her, he still imagined her features and the beautiful expressions on her face when he had another woman in his bed.

Bryce finally understood that the lie of filling the void she had left with other women had only increased his pain, so he decided to not be with a woman again until he had begun to heal. And to do it, he had to learn to deal with Eleanor and her friends. He couldn’t use the technique that so much criticized Ethan Ramsey, so he stopped being so reluctant to the company of Eleanor and her roommates, and returned to spend time with them.  It wouldn’t be easy,  he was sure about that, but it had to be done.

_________

A/N:

Hello everyone!

So, here I am posting my first Choices Fanfic ever. I’ve been working on it for a while because I have the bad habit of publishing things and then don’t finish them.

This is a challenge for me because it’s written in English, which is not my mother language. I’m a Spanish speaker, so, I’ve been reading and polishing my vocabulary and looking for more informal expressions and slang to make this fanfiction less boring or formal. So I apologize in advance if my narration is weird, my grammatic is wrong or if I have misspelled words. I appreciate your patience and if you have any advice of how I can better my writing skills, it’s welcome!

I’m an old school fanfiction writer, which means my fanfic will be LARGE compared to most of the fanfics that are here. I really admire the people who write drabbles or one-shot fanfics without previous fanfics to referred or just with a prompt list! This will have at least 20 chapters (I’m still deciding if I merge some or not, so that’s why I don’t have an exact number) because it’s a slow burn story.

Oh, another thing. The title of the fic and all the chapters are song-inspired. The title’s fanfic and the plot are inspired by Shawn Mendes’s song. At the beginning of each chapter, you’ll find the lyrics that inspire the plot of each one.

Well, enough verbiage. Welcome to When You’re Ready. I hope you enjoyed it!

Let me know if you want me to add you to the tag list.

Eleanor.

____________

Chapter 2.

[raiseyourcups]

Cabur

Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Aili Verdella) Warnings: a lot of cursing (like up the rating to R movie because it’s a lot of cursing in this chapter and the next), Aili threatening people (what else is new), Unresolved (Sexual) Tension Word Count: 3.3k Also on AO3

Masterlist

Summary: The crew goes over the plan, Mando and Aili discover it's more than they signed up for but they don't have any other choice than to go through with it. Mayfeld still thinks Aili looks familiar and Zero brags about his piloting and later proves that he's not above being an asshole even for a droid.

Mando was tense as he watched the droid in the cockpit, barely paying attention as Mayfeld went over the plan. Aili sighed as she paid enough attention for the both of them knowing Mando wouldn’t catch half of it if he was more worried about a droid. 

“So, the package is being moved on a fortified transport ship,” Mayfeld started, bringing up a holo of the transport ship. Aili narrowed her eyes at the sight of it, her head tilting in thought. “Now, we got a limited time to board, find our friend, get him outta there before they make their jump.”

Aili let out a sound of surprise before clearing her throat and pointing at the holo. “Is that a New Republic prison ship?”

“Is that gonna be a problem, princess?” Mayfeld asked, unsure about the short woman who he still thought looked familiar. He was going to figure it out by the time they made it to the prison ship though. He didn’t like unknowns on jobs he was running. 

“No, but call me princess again and there will be.”

“Your man wasn’t taken by a rival syndicate,” Mando interrupted before either of them could say anything else. “He was arrested.”

“So what?” Mayfeld questioned, leaning against the table towards Mando.

“A job is a job,” Ran said, looking over at Mando with a look that was almost daring him to disagree with him. 

“That’s a max security transport, we’re not looking for that kind of heat.” Aili stated, sparing a glance at Mando before looking back over at the holo. At least she wasn’t looking for that kind of heat. 

“We? You’re bringing your girlfriend along?” Mayfeld asked, raising his brow in shock. He didn’t want to keep some random woman safe during a job because her Mando boyfriend didn’t trust her to be alone on the space station. 

“Not his girlfriend,” Aili stated, her right hand clenching into a fist as her eyebrow twitched. 

“Sorry, I meant bed warmer.”

This time Mando didn’t stop Aili from moving. He simply watched as she decked Mayfeld across the face who fell backwards and onto his ass from the force of her punch. “The next person who calls me a fuckin’ loth-cat or implies that I’m fucking Mando, I will shove a knife so far up your ass you’ll have to pull it out from your throat.”

“I guess we got a team of six then,” Ran spoke, not even fazed by Mayfeld pushing himself back up from the floor while Aili walked back over to Mando’s side. “And we’re not looking for heat either so just don’t mess up.”

“The good news is that the ship is manned by droids. Still hate the machines, Mando?” Xi’an asked, leaning in too close for Aili’s comfort and pointing at Zero with the knife she had yet to put away. 

“Despite recent modifications, the ship is still quite a mess,” Zero said as he walked down the gangway. “The power lines are leaking, the navigation is intermittent, and the hyperdrive is only operating at 67.3% efficiency. We have much better ships, why are we using this one?”

“‘Cause the Razor Crest is off both the old Imperial and New Republic grid. It’s a ghost ship,” Ran answered with a shrug. 

“And we need a ship that can get close enough to jam New Republic code. So when we drop out of hyperspace here,” Mayfeld pointed to a spot on the holo, one hand rubbing at his jaw where Aili had punched him. “And then immediately bank into this kinda attitude, we should be right in their blindspot which will give us just enough time for your ship to scramble our signal.”

“That’s not possible. Even for the Crest,” Mando stated, he wouldn’t be able to pull off that kind of maneuver.

“Actually, Mando...it is,” Aili said as she winced knowing that he wasn’t going to like what she was about to say. She still remembered how he had reacted to the pit droids on Tatooine and she figured the need for a job was the only thing keeping him from shooting Zero. 

“No, it’s not.”

“It is if he’s flying,” Aili said, nodding her head towards Zero. 

“She’s right, he’s going to be flying.” Ran said, a little impressed that Aili had picked up on that part of the plan so quickly. Mayfeld burst out laughing when Mando tensed up and turned to stare at Zero. The rest of the crew was still laughing as they walked onto the ship and Aili let out an annoyed huff of breath, likening them to children again. 

“Mando, I know you’re a pretty good pilot but we need you on the trigger not on the wheel,” Ran explained.

Mando turned to look down at Aili who immediately shook her head. “I can’t pilot the ship like that, the droid will be better than either of us.”

“She is correct. My response time is quicker than organics and I’m smarter too,” Zero said, tapping the side of his head. 

“Okay, yeah, all right,” Ran said, patting Zero on his shoulder to get him to go to the ship before turning back to Mando. “Forgive the programming, he’s a little rough around the edges. But he is the best.”

“How can you trust it?” Mando questioned, pointing to where the droid had gone. Aili took note of the way that he was standing, shoulders tense and she figured it wasn’t just because of the droid.

“You know you me, Mando. I don’t trust anybody,” Ran chuckled before motioning for them to get to it. Mando and Aili walked up the gangway, Aili in front to get away from Ran quicker. 

“Just like the good, old days, huh Mando?”

Mando hit the button to close the gangway without replying, still annoyed that a droid was going to be piloting his ship. Even more annoyed that they were heading for a New Republic prison ship. He waited until the door was closed all the way to turn to Aili and gently grab her wrist before she could walk further into the Crest. “Is this going to be a problem?” Mando asked quietly.

Aili glanced down at the hand on her wrist before looking back up at Mando. “What? Working with your ex who seems to think we do have something going on and has been threatening to gut me with her eyes?” Aili shrugged her shoulder. “No problem with me.”

“You know what I meant.” Mando said, trying to make sure that Aili knew he wasn’t joking right now. They were heading for a New Republic prison ship and she was technically ex-Imperial just like Mayfeld. But Mando didn’t care about what happened to Mayfeld if the job went south. 

“I know what you meant but it’ll be fine.”

“You can still decide to stay on the ship.”

“And leave you with your ex who would just as soon gut you as fuck you? Or the Devaronian who’s been sizing you up? Or the ex-Imp who really doesn’t like you? Pass.” AIli pulled her wrist out of Mando’s grasp and headed for where everyone else was waiting. Mando watched as she left before sighing and heading for the cockpit to watch the droid. 

Aili walked past everyone, leaning against the wall by the hatch where the cot was. Burg was pacing around like he couldn’t stop for a single second or he would die. Xi’an was balancing her knife on a fingertip while Mayfeld was showing her something on a datapad. She didn’t know what they were reading but Mayfeld looked up at her as she went past him with a look on his face that she wasn’t sure she liked. 

“Will you sit down?” Xi’an said harshly when Burg passed in front of her again, leading the Devaronian to reach up and bang against the ceiling. Xi’an responded with a snarl, showing her teeth and making Burg laugh. Aili rolled her eyes from her spot and waited for them to go into hyperspace. She didn’t have to wait long, feeling the slight jolt that always went through the Crest when they made the jump. 

Burg went over to the control panel beside the ladder. Aili felt herself go tense until she saw the weapons locker open. She had to shift over a bit to avoid being hit by a panel but other than that, the weapons now had Burg’s attention. She didn’t care as much as Mando probably would because any attention on anything other than the cot behind her was low on her priority list. 

Just like he knew she was thinking of him, Mando dropped down from the ladder and turned just in time to see Burg going through his weapons. He wasted no time hitting the button on his vambrace that would close it back up, looking over at Aili who simply shrugged her shoulders as she moved back over, no longer covering the control panel of the hatch. A stupid mistake on her part. 

Burg hit the weapons locker once, turning to face Mando in annoyance before trying to mess with the hatch panel by Aili. She blocked his hand at the same time as Mando and Burg didn’t seem to like that. He crowded up against Mando, forcing Aili further against the wall as well. 

“If you don’t sit the kriff down now, I will make you sit down,” Aili growled, glaring up at Burg and uncaring that he was even bigger than Mando. It might take her a bit longer but she had taken down bigger targets. The only real challenges being the tight space and that she didn’t know how he fought. 

“Alright, alright. Everyone calm down, I’m a little particular about my personal space too,” Mayfeld said in a sorry attempt to break up a fight. “Let’s just focus on the job. We get in, get out, and you two never have to see our faces again.”

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian or his tiny-”

“Finish that sentence, I dare you.” Aili threatened even as Mando put a hand on her shoulder to hold her back. There wasn’t enough room for anyone to fight even someone as small as Aili. The Devaronian was taking up all of the space with his large, imposing figure and had them both all but cornered. 

“Apparently Mandos are the greatest warriors in the galaxy. So they say. And I guess that extends to the company they keep,” Mayfeld explained, a smirk on his face. Aili really didn’t like the look Mayfeld gave her now, like he knew who she was. 

“Then why are they all dead?” Burg asked, finally moving away from the two of them to lean against the ladder. Everyone other than Aili and Mando started laughing at Burg’s comment. Aili clenched her hands into fists and planted her feet firmly on the ground because she was close to snapping. 

“You flew with him, Xi’an. Is he as good as they say?” Mayfeld questioned, finally turning away from Mando and Aili. 

“Ask him about the job on Alzoc III,” she replied, glancing over at Mando from the corner of her eyes before focusing on her knife again. 

Mando tensed up, the hand he still had on Aili’s shoulder tightening for a fraction of a second. “I did what I had to.”

Xi’an chuckled, finally dropping the knife balancing on her fingertip. “Oh but you liked it. See, I know who you really are.”

“He never takes off the helmet?” Mayfeld asked, trying to work out the logistics of a lot of things at once. 

“This is the Way,” Xi’an mocked, holding the hand with her knife to her chest. Aili looked over at the Twi’lek for a split second, knowing exactly where she wanted to stick that knife. 

“Huh. I wonder what you look like under there. Maybe he’s a Gungan.” Mayfeld joked. “Is that why yousa don’t wanna show your face?”

They all laughed again and Aili felt her one eyebrow twitch, something that only happened when she was mad. She slowly shrugged Mando’s hand off her shoulder, still standing about as rigidly as he was. She just didn’t have the luxury of having her face hidden from everyone’s view so she tried to keep it blank. 

“You ever seen his face?” Mayfeld asked Xi’an again.

“A lady never tells,” Xi’an gasped out, messing with one of her lekku now as she grinned over at Mando. 

“I don’t see any ladies here, do you?” Aili finally spoke. She smirked at the snarl she got from Xi’an before raising a single eyebrow in a dare. 

“Aw, come on you two. We all gotta trust each other here. You gotta show us something.” 

Aili saw Burg stand back up to his full height and look over at Mando while Mayfeld kept egging him on. She quickly calculated exactly how to take Burg down in the small space available even as Mayfeld kept talking. 

“Come on, lift the helmet up. Let us see your eyes.”

“I’ll do it.” Burg didn’t even make it half a step forward when AIli shoved Mando towards where Mayfeld was. She hooked an arm around Burg’s, pulling it down towards her body before punching him twice in the face, then she brought her other hand up to his shoulder to use his own body as leverage to lift herself up. She wrapped her legs around his neck and used the momentum to spin them and flip him onto the floor. She stood up again and flipped her hair back over her shoulder. 

“Anyone else wanna try something stupid?” Aili asked, sidestepping over a groaning Burg. Both Mayfeld and Xi’an stared in shock while Mando stood from where he had stumbled to from Aili’s shove. Burg growled as he got up from the floor, one hand hitting the control panel to the hatch in his attempt to stand up. He still ended up falling into the vac tube. 

“Kriff,” Aili hissed out when the hatch opened to reveal Little Green sitting there wide awake. 

“Whoa, what is that?” Mayfeld asked in surprise, getting up from his seat to walk over to the hatch. “You get lonely up here, buddy? Wait a minute, did one of you two make that with him? What is it, like a pet or somethin’?”

“Yeah. Something like that.” Mando said stiffly. 

“Didn’t take you for the type. Maybe that code of your has made you soft, or maybe she did.” Xi’an said, leaning in towards Mando before pointing her knife towards Aili for a quick second. Neither Mando or Aili said anything, both of their attention on Mayfeld who was now leaning in closer to the Child.  

“Me? I was never really into pets. Didn’t have the temperament or patience, you know?” Mayfeld said, before looking back down at the kid. “But I’m thinking maybe I’ll try again with this little fella.”

Aili took in a breath while Mando drew his shoulders up as Mayfeld picked up the Child. She felt her stomach tense while Mando took half a step forward when Mayfeld pretended to drop him but other than that, she tried to keep her face as blank as Mando’s helmet. Mayfeld and Xi’an both chuckled at the two of them and Mayfeld went to say something when Zero’s voice came over the ship comms.

“Dropping out of hyperspace now.”

That was all the warning any of you got before the ride got more than a little bumpy. It was never that rough of a jump and Aili wondered just what that droid was doing up there. She wrapped one palm around a ladder rung while the other reached out to grab Mando’s shoulder, her hand clutching at the cape above his pauldron. He was slightly steadier on his feet than she was right now making him the ideal option for her to stay on her own feet. 

“Commencing final approach, now.” Zero’s voice continued. “Cloaking signal, now.” 

The Crest suddenly pulled into a spiral and everyone went flying towards the floor, Mayfeld dropping Little Green who let out a squeal before he hit the floor. Both Aili and Mando immediately dropped down to the floor to cover him from rolling anywhere else. Aili got there first and pulled him into her arms. She turned to lay on her back while Mando all but straddled her, his arms placed on either side of her head and his legs caging her in so she didn’t go rolling around herself. 

“Engaging coupling now.”

“Shoot that droid once we’re out of here,” Aili said, looking up at Mando’s t-visor before having to look away. This was the closest she and Mando had been, even when they were back on Sorgan where they shared a single hut they had still never been this close to each other. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t even look at the Mandalorian right now but she tried to put all her focus on keeping Little Green safe right now.  

She felt the ship finally land and let out a quiet sigh of relief. Once they were steady, Mando got up and held a hand out for Aili to take. She took it and let him lift her and Little Green up from the floor. They went back over to the hatch where Aili put him down, looking over him to make sure that he hadn’t been hurt when Mayfeld dropped him.

“Coupling confirmed. We are down.” Zero’s voice came again. “And relax. Commence extraction now.”

“Useless droid, didn’t even give a proper countdown,” Xi’an snarled, still on the floor. Burg lifted two crates, tossing them aside while Mayfeld pulled out his comm. 

“Z, you’re sure they can’t see us?” 

Mando tapped AIli on the shoulder, pointing to his helmet when she looked up at him, and then pointed to the Child followed by a thumbs up. She finally relaxed a little, stopping her fussing over Little Green. She leaned in close to him while Mayfeld kept talking to the droid. “We’ll be right back, please stay here until we get you.”

Little Green let out a coo before scooting further back into the cot and watching as Aili moved away. Mando shut the hatch and they both turned to look at Mayfeld just in time to hear Zero’s reply. 

“The Razor Crest is scrambling our signature and I am inside the prison system. It’s impressive that this gunship had survived the Empire without being impounded.” 

“All right, we got a job to do. Mando, you’re up.” 

Mando moved forward to open the floor hatch of the Crest, Aili kneeling beside him just in case he screwed something up. Not that there were many ways to do so in this case. It was a simple plug in and wait game. Neither she nor Mando saw the looks being exchanged by the rest of the crew as they waited for the light to turn green. 

The hatch opened and Mando disconnected the cable, him and Aili standing afterwards. Everyone looked to Mayfeld who looked back with a stupid look on his face leaving Aili even more unimpressed. Mayfeld pointed at himself, “It’s me?”

“Always you,” Burg said. Mayfeld dropped down into the ship, followed by Xi’an and then Burg leaving Mando and Aili onboard. 

“Last chance,” Mando said, tilting his helmet towards the hatch where the Child was. Aili shook her head, a smirk on her face now. 

“Not gonna work,” she replied with a wink before dropping down onto the prison ship, Mando following after one last glance towards the hatch himself. Now they just had to get through a whole prison manned by droids that would shoot first and ask questions never.

[argylemnwrites]

I Shouldn’t Care (But I Still Do)

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (The Royal Heir 2, between Chapter 3 and 4)

Word Count: ~1200

Rating:  R (adult language)

Summary: Drake struggles with some media coverage surrounding his daughter’s presentation.

Author’s Note: This marks the last of my Fluffy Friday drabbles, even though I clearly struggle with keeping these things consistently fluffy. I’m sorry, but this concept has been in my brain for a long time, and I just needed to explore it. I know PB has committed to the “modern fairy tale” tone, but there is just so many other aspects that come to mind if you apply even a hint of realism. The fact that Liam named another couple’s child heir to the throne would have ramifications with media and public speculation and discussion. It doesn’t help that in my playthrough, I selected the East Asian MC and the East Asian Liam, meaning that Drake and Riley’s daughter in my canon looks like she could be Liam’s. I just think that it’s naive to think that no one would wonder.

So, after that little ramble, this is my pick for the last (semi-)Fluffy Friday fic, 18. Hugs on the Domestic Fluff prompt list. I hope everyone had a wonderful Valentine’s Day.

Drake wasn’t sure if he should even be reading these stories. Part of him justified it by telling himself he needed to know what the press was saying about him. About her. About their family. It would be worse to be blindsided by some horrible speculation on the upcoming tour during a press conference or have Madeleine or Olivia reveal it in some snide comment.

On the other hand, he didn’t want to give the bullshit they published any attention. Because it was just that - complete and utter bullshit. They just wanted to sell a story. They didn’t know anything about him and Riley and Bridget. Nothing real anyway. But during her pregnancy, Drake had fallen into the habit of reading the stories that were published. Most of them had focused on Riley at that point and had usually been pretty positive, although there were the ones that had a lot of thoughts about what she was eating or drinking or how active she was or wasn’t being.

There had been ones that seemed to have a lot of opinions about their relationship. Those had been harder to stomach. The ones that called him a leech, a chronic coattail rider, that sort of thing, well those hadn’t been too bad. It was nothing he hadn’t heard for years. He was used to it. But the ones that speculated that Riley regretted marrying him, that the baby was likely Liam’s… well those had stung. They’d poked at those deep-seated insecurities, the ones that still reared their ugly head from time to time. Still, he’d usually managed to shrug them off, ignore them as the tabloid trash they were. It had helped that Riley had been pissed as hell about all of them. Listening to her profanity-filled rants about how insulting, how stupid, how disgusting they all were reminded him time and time again how much he loved her.

Now that Bridget was here and had been presented to the people, the articles were back in full force. Some, like the ones from Trend or the CBC were upbeat and optimistic. But the one he was reading now was… well, it wasn’t negative or anything. But it was hitting Drake unexpectedly hard.

Maybe it was the photo that sat on the top of the website, Riley holding Bridget and Liam standing right behind her, both of them smiling. Drake knew he had been right off to Riley’s other side. But he’d been cropped out of this photo. He was in the wide group shot further down in the article, along with Hana and Maxwell. And there was another one that showed him, Riley, Liam, and Bridget on the dais. But even there, they’d selected a shot where Liam had been leaning forward to say something to the press, making him appear very close to Riley, while Drake’s head was turned to the side.

He felt stupid fixating on this. He didn’t even want to be featured in an article like this at all. He’d be happy to never speak to the press again. But somehow seeing Bridget, Riley, and Liam, looking like… a cozy little family or some shit while he was shoved off to the side like some awkward godfather… well, it hurt. There was no other way to put it.

Reading the actual content of the article did nothing to make Drake feel any better. He was mentioned twice. Two fucking times. Meanwhile, Liam was quoted four times and mentioned an additional dozen times. 

Drake got it. Liam was king. He was nowhere near that important. Being a less important figure than Liam was not a change for him. But he’d never considered that people would consider him a less important figure in his own daughter’s life.

He knew he was being dramatic about this. This article meant nothing. But he couldn’t bring himself to set down the tablet, to turn it off and ignore the implications. So he just kept reading and staring at the photos, sinking into a spiral of self pity.

“She’s finally asleep.” Drake jerked his head up, surprised to find that Riley had joined him in their private den. He had been so caught up in the article, he hadn’t heard the door open at all.

“I thought she was never going to stop feeding,” Riley continued, sitting down next to him on the couch, tucking her legs up under her. “Watcha looking at?” she asked, pointing to the tablet in Drake’s hand.

“S’nothing, Walker,” Drake mumbled. She had enough to deal with, what with nursing and her own hormones and all that. She didn’t need to soothe his stupid insecurities, too. But he knew he hadn’t kept his tone light enough. Sure enough, her hand was grabbing his arm almost instantly.

“Drake, what’s wrong?”

He just shook his head, “It really is nothing. I’m just…” but he trailed off, feeling so dejected. He didn’t know what else to say.

Riley grabbed the tablet out of his hand, her eyes roving of the screen as she scanned through the article. Her jaw clenched several times, and when she reached the end of the page, she turned to look at Drake, a fire burning in her eyes. “Well, this is fucking bullshit. How can they publish shit like this?”

Drake shrugged, “There’s nothing technically inaccurate in there.”

She shook her head, “Well, it’s still bullshit. How can they try to erase you from the story like that?”

“I don’t think it’s that malicious. I think I just don’t matter.”

Riley opened her mouth as if to argue his point, but after a second, she just wrapped her arms around him, tugging him close and wrapping him in a warm, reassuring hug. Drake felt a little embarrassed, needing to be comforted like a child over a stupid article. But he couldn’t lie, it felt fucking good. So he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tight, tucking his head into the crook of her neck.

“I guess it doesn’t matter why they did it,” Riley muttered into his hair, “It’s shitty no matter why it happened. I’m so sorry, Drake.”

“It’s not your fault,” he mumbled into the skin of her neck, “And I know I’m being overly sensitive about this.”

He felt Riley shaking her head, and then her fingers were under his chin, tipping his head back so she could look in his eyes.

“I would feel like shit if the situation was reversed, Drake. You’re her father. It’s fucking infuriating that they are implying anything different. You’re allowed to be upset by this.”

“I know I should ignore it, I know it, but seeing you and him and she just looks like-”

But Riley put her finger over his lips, cutting him off, “She’s our kid. Mine and yours. And everyday I see more of both of us in her.”

With that, she wrapped her arms back around him, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. Drake closed his eyes, trying to focus on what mattered. Him and her. Their daughter. The rest was just noise. And right now, wrapped up in each other’s arms, he could appreciate this moment of peace and calm.

Permatag: @speedyoperarascalparty @mfackenthal  @lilyofchoices  @thequeenofcronuts  @jamesashtonisbae

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @kingliam2019   @sirbeepsalot  @texaskitten30   @princessleac1  @ladyangel70  @dcbbw  @yaushie @octobereighth

Drake x MC only:  @jovialyouthmusic  @iplaydrake  @gibbles82  @drakewalkerisreal  @riley--walker  @notoriouscs  @butindeed  @addictedtodrakefanfic​  

[bing-fucker]

Idea: Logan gets "Kidnapped" (Deceit knocked on the door and Logan didn't ask he just held the rope Remus brought and walked with them. He didn't mind.) by Deceit and Remus one night as a punishment to the other three about whatever. When they get there Deceit realizes he forgot something and when Remus is unsupervised by Dee he gets quite handsy with Logan, who doesn't mind if not enjoys it. Deceit comes back to them half naked on the bed and decides to join them. You can write it, if you wanna

TBH, this prompt just... amuses me to no end. Because it implies that Logan is 1, used to this and 2, just as annoyed with the others to pretend to be kidnapped.

So, hell yeah, I’m gonna write this.

Warning: Consensual kidnapping, consensual groping, bondage, Remus, Deceit, rough sex, threesomes, face fucking

Logan had, unfortunately, grown rather used to Remus and Deceit knocking on his door at odd hours of the night. It was actually rather common that they would do this when one of the others had annoyed them in the slightest. Of course, it was all for naught, given that nobody ever noticed Logan missing, but that was a thought for a different time.

As he opened the door, Logan didn’t ask questions, merely held his hands out for the rope. He’d learned not to ask questions, and Deceit and Remus had learned that he didn’t actually need to be tied up, given that he didn’t protest or try to escape. Usually, these nights ended with board games, and playing Monopoly is really hard when your wrists are tied up.

Tonight, however, seemed to be different, as Remus looped the rope loosely around his wrists with a grin. Logan quirked an eyebrow but, again, didn’t say anything. Remus was an eccentric person, and Logan had quit questioning his motivations He simply shrugged and followed behind the two, reading the book in his hands as they walked to Remus’ room.

Over the weeks, Logan had become quite accustomed to Remus’ room- given that Deceit despised have anyone in his room, technical kidnap victim or not. And so, Logan had learned to simply ignore the effects of the moustached side’s room.

“Ah, shit,” Deceit said softly, looking around Remus’ room for a second while Logan and Remus set up Uno.

“What is it?” Logan asked, looking over his cards.

“I totally didn’t forget to write up and print a ransom note,” Deceit huffed, crossing his arms unhappily.

“Who cares? They never read it, anyway,” Remus piped up, grinning at Logan over his cards.

“I don’t care!” shrieked Deceit. “It’s not like it makes it feel better executed!”

“You can go type one up and print it real quick,” Logan said. “We can wait to start Uno.”

“Hm. No, that’s won’t do,” Deceit said, nodding to himself. “I won’t be right back.” And with that, the scaled side left quickly.

“Uh,” Logan started. “War?”

Remus nodded and grabbed the normal playing cards, handing them out with one hand while the other rubbed him through his pants. Logan rolled his eyes, but he didn’t really mind. Remus was strange, and he’d known about the creative one’s attraction to him for a while. Besides, he was flattered.

Remus moved his hand to Logan’s thigh, idly massaging the inner thigh as they played. Logan blushed and tried to hide the arousal slowly growing in his pants. Remus scooted closer to him, card game forgotten as he stuck a hand down Logan’s pants.

Logan gasped softly, pressing his hips into Remy’s hand as the duke pulled him roughly into his lap and ground up against his ass.

“R-rem,” Logan gasped, leaning his head back against Remus’ shoulder as the duke felt him up.

“Yes, dear~?” Remus replied, other hand massaging Logan’s ass as he ground against him.

“Don’t stop,” Logan gasped, moaning softly. Remus grinned and pushed Logan to lay against the bed, pulling both their pants down. Logan blushed, his clothes still on as Remus ground against him, like he was some sort of whore.

“F-fuck, Remus,” Logan gasped, blushing and burying his face in the sheets as the shaft of Remus’ cock pressed against his ass teasingly.

“That is the plan, darling,” Remus grunted, his cum spilling over Logan’s ass and back.

Logan stuck his tongue out slightly. “Jesus, you come a lot,” he muttered, whimpering when Remus used his cum as lubricant and pushed his cock inside of Logan and immediately started thrusting.

“Jesus, Rem!” Logan gasped, biting the pillow beneath him.

“Sorry,” Remus said, sheepishly stilling.

“I didn’t say stop,” Logan complained. “I simply wanted you to slow down.”

“That I can do,” Remus purred, thrusting agonizingly slow, his hips angled perfectly to press against Logan’s prostate on each thrust. Logan whimpered and moaned, pressing his ass back to take him in deeper.

“Really?”

Both of their heads snapped to the side, an embarrassed blush on Logan’s face, and a lascivious grin on Remus’.

“What, want to join?” Remus asked, dragging his hips slowly and earning a low moan from the bound man beneath him.

Deceit looked at Logan, waiting for permission. Logan nodded and Deceit immediately was on the bed in front of him, tightening the rope around his wrists and pressing his face against his crotch. Logan moaned softly, mouthing at Deceit through his pants. Deceit groaned softly and pulled his pants and boxers down, his cock eagerly springing out and hitting Logan’s cheek.

Logan laughed softly and just as eagerly took it into his mouth, bobbing his head in times to Remus’ thrusts as the man behind him picked up pace happily. Deceit moaned quietly and grabbed Remus’ shirt, pulling him forward and into a rough kiss.

Remus grinned into the kiss, bodily moving Logan with his thrusts, matching Deceit’s own thrusts. Logan moaned softly beneath the two, attracting their attention. Deceit pulled away from the kiss and leaned down, kissing Logan’s neck lovingly as he fucked his throat happily.

It wasn’t long for Logan to cum, and as soon as his walls tightened around Remus, the duke let out a low moan and spent himself inside of Logan, collapsing on top of the intellectual. Deceit whimpered softly as Logan sucked harder, determined to make him cum. Deceit whimpered again, gripping the heard board behind him with one hand and gripping Logan’s hair tightly with the other as he came.

It took a few minutes for all three to come down from their post-orgasm high, although they eventually did and quickly set about getting cleaned up. Remus and Deceit laughed softly at the stubborn way Logan gripped the covers of Remus’ bed, climbing in beside him and cuddling him happily.

“You two are idiots,” Logan said sleepily, face buried in Remus’ chest.

“Yes, but we’re your idiots, now,” Deceit purred, happily hugging both Remus and Logan.

“Foreverrrrrrrrrr~” Remus teased, grinning.

“Not if you don’t shut up. Let me sleep.”

The two dark sides shared a look, a soft laugh, and a fond look before settling in to sleep next to their new partner.

[abysskeeper]

rwby first season freezerburn. So at school.

((Set after volume 1 finale...which is still technically volume 1. Or right after chapter 3 of Reflections...because yes...everything I write for Weiss is connected.))

The library was a relatively quiet place, even after classesand training had ended and students started filing in to do their homework andstudy for upcoming exams. It was a tradition a majority of the students atBeacon held to, and whether that was due to a respect of tradition or a fear ofGlynda was much debated. Still, there were pockets here and there of studentschatting quietly amongst themselves about any number of topics that could belisted.

Yang hadn’t intended on stumbling across Blake and Weiss onher way back from getting coffee for her team (or tea…in Blake’s case). Lastshe knew, everyone was studying quietly, albeit slightly uncomfortably, whenshe left. And it wasn’t like she intended on standing nearby andeavesdropping on them, she couldn’t even hear anything! But she did lean upagainst a bookshelf and watch as they finished up their conversation. Blakesmiled and nodded after Weiss said something. As the Faunus got up to leave,Weiss placed her hand on her arm, said one more thing, and left both of themsmiling as Blake returned to Ruby and the table they were actually studying at.

Well, that was certainly a good sign. It was a much betterinteraction than the two had had over the past several days. Between yelling ateach other, and running away, and struggling to come to terms with the secretrevealed that Blake was a Faunus, and once a member of the White Fang, Yangwould definitely take smiles and quiet conversations. She doubted any team hadan immediately great start, but she had to believe their team beginnings wereon the worse end of the spectrum.

Before Yang could even pull herself from her thoughts, Weisshad noticed her and stood up. Damn, she hadn’t intended on getting caughteither…even if she really hadn’t heard anything. She watched with a sheepishgrin as the other girl walked over to her and placed her book back on the shelfshe was leaning against. Weiss didn’t say anything though, and she rolled hereyes, knowing she was expected to speak first.

“Everything good?” Yang asked, relenting to whatever moveWeiss was trying to play.

“Yes,” Weiss answered and after a moment nodded, as ifreaffirming it in her own mind for herself, “Yes, I think so. Or, it will be,anyways.”

She looked down at the coffees on the tray Yang was holdingand gratefully took the one offered to her. She took a long sip of her coffee,even more grateful it was already at a temperature that could be drank, andnodded her thanks. Weiss turned around and Yang followed after her, onlystopping when Weiss sat back down at the smaller table she and Blake were justtalking at. Out of curiosity, Yang paused and waited to see if she would sayanything else. Or for Weiss to shoo her away, whichever came next.

Weiss took a while, watching a few tables over where Rubyand Blake sat studying, the former animatedly informing the latter aboutsomething or other. Her icy blue gaze remained almost solely on Blake, watchingthe girl smile and roll her eyes as she humored their young leader. It had beenthe most at ease she had seen Blake since they started at Beacon and itwas…nice. “I do care about her, you know,” she said finally and herstare settled on Yang, “I care about all of you.”

Yang blinked, and slowly took the seat across from Weiss.Had that ever been in question? Sure, she didn’t always have the best attitude,but Weiss did still care. She settled into being their teammate and got overnot being the leader of team RWBY relatively quickly. She had gone along withtheir team outings and shenanigans like building bunk beds, and often she hadfun herself. She even saved Ruby the first day they met. The attitude wasthere, but Yang never doubted somewhere in there that she cared too.

“Of course you do, I know that,” Yang said.

“You…” Weiss hesitated and looked down at her coffee, “Youimplied otherwise a few days ago. I just wanted you to know, I know I am notthe best at expressing it, but I do care for you all.”

Oh. Right. She had said that while they were looking forBlake, hadn’t she? Maybe in this mess, she had something to apologize for too.“Look, Weiss, I know that,” Yang started, “I’m sorry. I said some things Ididn’t mean in the heat of the moment. I was frustrated and tired and I…Ishouldn’t have said that,” she sighed, “I know you care, I promise. I’m sorry.”

It was faint, but Weiss smiled in relief. “I accept yourapology. And I understand,” she said and looked back up at Yang, “There weremany things I shouldn’t have said either. I have since apologized for them, aswell. It was…the White Fang is a sensitive subject,” she admitted and turnedback to watching Blake and Ruby. It wasn’t like that hadn’t become obvioussince the fight in their room. “They made a difficult situation worse.”

Yang remained quiet, unsure of what else could be said tothat. Ruby had already tried to apologize that night, but that wasn’t whatWeiss was looking for. And she still wasn’t sure what Weiss was looking for,except for maybe a listening ear. That was the least she could provide.

“But it doesn’t matter now. The White Fang doesn’t matter,they are in Blake’s past just as much as they are in mine,” Weiss decided andshe turned back to Yang with that same, faint smile, “You guys, team RWBY, arealmost like a family to me. That means a lot to me, given the circumstancesof…well…”

Weiss didn’t need to say anything else, Yang understood.Many were envious of the SDC heiress, likely due to the assumption she hadeverything anyone could ever want. Money was never an issue for her and herstatus probably granted her the opportunity to a great number of things. Butmoney couldn’t buy everything. Yang had never envied her, or anyone rich forthat matter, for that reason. She was only proved right when she actually metWeiss. Sure, the heiress had everything physically she could ever need, but herarrogance bespoke of something deeper. It was a mask that hid some deep-seated hurt,and every so often she caught a glimpse of a glint of unspoken loneliness, isolation,in her teammate’s blue eyes.

It was something Yang could understand. Something perhapsshe saw too many times in her own reflection.

Thus Weiss’s statement was something she could alsoappreciate, perhaps better than anyone else. And she was glad they were all ableto start giving her that. “We are family,” Yang corrected her with agrin, “That’s what a team is. No one is gonna have your back out there fightingGrimm better than your own family, so you better get used to it, Snowflake.”

Weiss smiled at the sentiment, happy that Yang had soreadily corrected her and confirmed what she wanted. Her expression fell into oneof bemusement at the end of the blonde’s statement though, “Snowflake? What’sthat supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Yang shrugged, grin growing wider, “But everyonein a family gets nicknames,” she explained like it was the most obvious thingin the world. “I know, I know, Ice Queen has already been floated around—” Weissheld back a grimace at the name, “—But that seems a little harsh. Do you notlike Snowflake? How about Weiss Cube?”

“That is really not necessary,” Weiss said, trying for all orRemnant to sound serious and disapproving. The corners of her lips werebetraying her though as they started to turn upwards.

“Oh it most definitely is, Weiss Cream Cone,” Yang saidagain. She thought on it a moment before shaking her head, “Nah, way too long.”

“Honestly, just Weiss would b—”

“I got it! Weissicle!” Yang exclaimed.

Weiss couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst into gigglesdespite herself. Yang watched her for a few moments, both proud and enthralledthat she got the other girl to laugh. She had seen Weiss laugh and smile a fewtimes now, but something felt different about this. She had always been pretty,but she was prettier when she let those walls down and let her true self shinethrough. Something Yang hoped for Weiss’s sake she would do more often now.

“I think, if you are so insistent and Weissicle is the bestyou can come up with,” Weiss said as her giggle fit calmed down, “I would muchprefer Snowflake.”

“Duly noted,” Yang agreed. She let herself look over Weissagain for another moment before adding, “You should do that more often.”

“What? Laugh?”

“Yup,” Yang nodded and stood up, signaling theirconversation was nearing an end. “We’re family now, remember? You can beyourself around us, I think we’d all like it better that way. Besides, youractual personality is prettier,” she smiled and winked at her before gatheringtheir coffees and walking back towards the rest of their team, “We shouldprobably get back to studying. You don’t want to see what happens when you makeRuby wait for some much-needed coffee.”

“R-right,” Weiss agreed, too shocked at the turn to reallysay anything else. After a moment of staring after the blonde, she grabbed herown cup of coffee and followed suit. And if she returned to study with the restof her team with a slight blush and a small, satisfied smile, at least no onecommented on it.

[detectivejigsawpines]

The Barber of Gopher Road

Or, Stan finds his potential calling.

Here’s something funny and wholesome to (hopefully) make up for the emotional roller coaster the last two stories in this AU has put you through.

The front door opened, and Ford stomped in, carrying an empty satchel and grumbling to himself.

Stan, who was looking in the bathroom mirror and wondering if his ears had always been this big (getting a haircut recently seemed to have really made them stick out), peered out and saw him looking like a storm cloud with glasses.

“No luck?” he asked, turning off the bathroom light and going into the main room after his brother.

Ford dumped the satchel on the giant toe coffee table and flopped into one of the chairs which had been set up on either side of it.

“Mutter mutter unicorn mutter mutter mutter pure of heart mutter,” he replied.

Stan took a moment to process that.  “I’m gonna take that as a no.”

“The dumb unicorn said that I wasn’t pure enough of heart, okay?” Ford snapped.

“Pure of heart?  What does that even mean?”

Ford gave an irritable shrug, looking more like a sulky toddler than his usual semi-dignified self.

“Sounds kinda hinky,” Stan said, frowning.  “Cuz if that’s supposed to mean someone who’s never done anything wrong, that’s impossible.  Nobody’s ever been pure of heart unless you believe in Jesus and the Dalai Lama and stuff.”

“Stanley, the Dalai Lama is a real person.”

Stan was no longer listening, because the wheels of his brain were busy turning.  Absentmindedly he began pacing back and forth, in a way that was quite like his brother except that he was rubbing the back of his neck, brushing over the spot that used to be covered by his hair.

His hair…

Suddenly, eyes bright with an idea, Stan snatched up the satchel.  Then he headed for the kitchen and dug around in the drawer they used for miscellaneous items (which was always sticking because neither of them could remember to make sure the items were laid in properly) until he pulled out a pair of good sharp scissors.

“What are you doing?!” Ford demanded, chasing after him.

“Watch me, Sixer.  I’m gonna get you that unicorn hair.”

Ford let out an incredulous scoff.  “You? If I am not pure of heart by her standards, then you are definitely not-”

“See ya later.”

And Stan snatched the journal that contained the incantation to open the entry to the unicorn glen, and was out the door.

********

After a stop in town to pick up some extra supplies at the convenience store, Stan headed into the forest.  The glen was easily found and opened, even though he felt a little stupid reading the chant aloud. But at least it worked-even if it meant being nearly blinded by the horrendous rainbow light when he opened the giant golden doors.

It looks like a six-year-old girl’s backpack threw up all over this place, he thought, taking in the trees, the waterfall above the limpid pool, and above all, the unicorn posing curled up on a rock in front of the random rainbow which was hanging in the air for no apparent reason.

“You again!” the unicorn exclaimed when she saw him, leaping to her dainty hooves and stamping one of them in agitation.  “I told you, you are not pure of heart-!”

“You got the wrong guy, sister,” Stan said, putting his hands in his pockets.  “I’m his brother, Stan. Nice ta meet ya.”

The unicorn blinked her enormous purple eyes in bewilderment.  “Amazing!  I’ve never seen two humans who looked so much alike!”

Stan snorted.  “Eh, personally I think I’m the handsome one.  Anywho, I wanted ta see you for myself, and-”

“Only a human who is pure of heart may have some of my hair!”   The unicorn stamped her hoof again, and flared her nostrils in a dainty snort.

Stan barely refrained from rolling his eyes.  “Yeah, well, I’m probably not gonna make the grade, but feel free ta check.”

The unicorn, Celesta-whatever (Ford had mentioned hearing her name from the gnomes, but Stan had already forgotten the full thing), looked confused for a moment, but then jabbed her horn into his chest.

Stan resisted his next impulse, to smack away the sharp object being jabbed at him.

She’s not using it as a weapon, he reminded himself.  Be cool.

Sure enough, after the heart shape appeared for a few seconds, Celesta-thingy reared her head back.

“Yooooouuuuu are not pure of heeeeaaaaart!!!!!!” she wailed.  “And you didn’t take off your shoes when you came in!  You must leeeeeaaaaave!!!!!!!”

This time Stan was unable to resist rolling his eyes a tiny bit.  But he shrugged, and hoisted the bag higher up on his shoulder.

“Okay, fine by me.  If you wanna loaf around with your hair looking like that, what do I care?”

And he turned on his heel.

“WHAT WAS THAT?!”

Stan glanced over his shoulder, and hid a smirk at the look of shocked outrage on the unicorn’s face.

“Nothing, nothing.  Have a nice day.” He turned back around and headed for the exit-

Seconds later Celesta-whosit was in his path, teeth actually bared.  “What did you say about my hair?!  How dare you! My hair is beautiful and perfect!”

Stan chewed his lip, and did an indifferent shrug.  “Okay, if you say so.”

“What?” she demanded.  “Tell me what you’re implying this instant!”

“Oh, you don’t wanna-”

“TELL ME!”

Stan sighed in fake reluctance.  “Well, if you insist…” He took a deep breath.  “It’s just...your hair is completely last year’s style, okay?  I mean, have you looked at it recently?” He strode around her in a circle, plucking at it with the tips of his fingers and making disapproving noises.  “You’re behind the times, letting it grow all long like that-I’m surprised you haven’t been laughed out of the forest! And don’t even get me started on those awful split ends.”

“I do NOT have split ends!”   But now there was a waver of uncertainty in her not-so-angelic voice.

Stan shrugged, coming back to face her.  “Whatever you say, lady. All I’m saying is, give me fifteen minutes and I could fix you up real nice, make it so you could actually show your face outside.  But you obviously don’t want anyone touching your hair, so just don’t worry about it. See ya around-”

Seconds later he was being shoved bodily into the center of the glen, until he landed on his rear on a large rock (ow).  Then the unicorn draped herself in front of him, tossing her rainbow-colored locks until they were facing him.

Stan tried not to grin.

****

It was surprisingly relaxing, cutting the unicorn’s hair.  He hadn’t had much experience, but he did his best to keep it even, stuffing the chopped-off parts into the satchel.  He was almost done, when two more unicorns stepped into the glen from the other side of the pool.

“Hey, C-beth, you busy?  We were wondering-WHAT THE HECK?!”

Both of them stopped, jaws dropping practically to the ground.

Celesta-whatsit raised her head, the tip of her horn glowing.  “Oh, hi, guys!  This wonderful human is giving me a haircut to help me keep up with the times!”

Stan raised the hand not holding the scissors and waved to them.  “How’s it hanging?”

And she’s not the last of her kind either.  These guys really are a bunch of lying jerks.

The pink one daintily stepped forward, head tilted in bewilderment.  “Keep up with the times?  What are you talking about?”

Stan trimmed the last piece, and cleaned off his scissors on his sleeve.  Maybe it would be best to grab the satchel and run with it...but suddenly he wanted to know if this would work.  “You guys really don’t get out much, do you? If you did you wouldn’t even have to ask.” He patted C-beth’s hide.  “Go on and take a look.”

The unicorn got to her hooves, and stepped over to the pool, where she peered in-and gasped.

Stan had turned her mane into a bob which stopped just at the base of her neck, and curled at the ends, so she suddenly bore an odd resemblance to some pictures of his grandma that his mother had shown them once.  It was a little ragged, and he hadn’t quite gotten it to look like the picture in one of the hairdo magazines he’d brought, but on the whole it was better than he’d worried it would turn out.

C-beth tossed her mane back and forth, eyes wide.

“I-it’s been so long since it’s felt this light,” she marvelled.  “I’m not sure how I feel about it…”

“Can you do my hair too?” the turquoise unicorn suddenly asked, bounding over to Stan.

“Yeah, me too!” cried the pink one.  “Cut my hair-I’ve had this same stupid ‘do since I was a foal!  Do you think you can do layers?”

“Man, we gotta tell the girls at the hooficure place!”

“We’ll pay you!”

Before Stan’s eyes, they briefly turned into wallets with hooves.

****

A few hours later, Ford stared at Stan, jaw dropped, as he emptied out a bag filled with rainbow colors.

“And I think I can probably get more if I go back tomorrow-they said they were gonna tell their friends, and they’ll want to keep up with the new ‘style’ too.  I’m gonna need some practice with haircuts, but maybe I can learn how ta do head massages or something too. And look!” He grabbed the enormous treasure chest he’d been given by the gushing unicorns, and pushed it open with his foot.  “We finally have treasure!”

Well, technically it had been him.  But still. Ford was the one who had found the unicorns in the first place, so he was kind of involved.

“...You tricked the unicorns into giving up their hair?” Ford asked in a tone of strangled disbelief.  “And they paid you for it?”

Stan grinned, and shrugged.  “Guess being a liar and a cheater works for me after all.  So, what’re you gonna do with this stuff?”

Ford still looked a little shell-shocked.  “Well, I-I need to study what sort of magical properties all of this has.  I’ve read all sorts of stories, but I don’t know how much is fact and how much is fiction yet.”

“Heh, you could probably use some of this to knit a sweater.”  Stan didn’t know why, but as soon as he said that it felt...oddly appropriate.

Ford snorted as he gathered up some of the hair and rushed off to the lab.

****

Word gets around the forest fast-soon enough other magical creatures show up wanting Stan to cut their hair for them. Fairies, wood nymphs, merfolk, even manotaurs who want to go with a buzz cut or something. Stan worries a little bit about how 'manly' of a job being a hairdresser is, but it works until or unless he can find one in the human world. And in the meantime, it keeps Ford happy by giving him plenty of samples to study, so win-win.

[cutegirlmayra]

Okay, I usually see this fanart but barely in fanfiction, so how about Boom Knuckles x Rouge? Since Boom Knuckles has a different personality, I want to see how it'll play out. I think she'd find him adorable and definitely tease him in a different way from his Modern counterpart XD

I illegally step away from being forced to write the last two chapters of my novel to bring you this thrilling saga.

Prompt:

“Rouge!” Eggman billowed, throwing a quaking hand up in the air.

“My, my… now, that’s no way to call a lady.” Rouge, having stowed herself away in the rafters, flew down in perfect elegance with a sassy remark. “You really should try and keep that tone of yours in line, Doctor. What would happen if one day, you find you can’t hit that note anymore?”

He ground his teeth together, in no mood for her shenanigans, “Quit the quick remarks already. You’re real flighty, you know that? It’s taken me forever just to track you down.” He leaned on his console.

She placed her hands on her hips, looking off to the corner of the room as though keeping a secret. “I’ve been busy.”… ‘With G.U.N so gung-ho on being one step ahead of you, I haven’t had one restful night to get my beauty sleep. Blame me for your temper-tantrum, ha!’ “You’re the one acting batty.”

She folded her arms. “I’ve heard you’ve really stumbled upon an alternate universe. What’s the deal, then? Need me to steal something?”

“How did you-?” He was actually pretty surprised, but twitched his mustache and turned back to his computer.

“As a matter of fact… you’re stealthy feats are exactly what the job order…” He grinned widely as his glasses shined with the glow of the screen. “My other self, in that world, refuses to give me a secret formula for transmutation! Steal it for me, and you can have… These!” he grabbed a briefcase, spinning around and opening it to reveal a wide array of sparkling gems, each looked ravishing as her thoughts quickly spiraled into luxurious fantasies of wearing them while on a mountain of glittering treasures. 

She reached for one, “And what would this formula look like..?” But he quickly closed the briefcase and set it down.

“Ho-ho-ho… have I enticed those old thievery hands, yet?”

‘I haven’t robbed in a long time, not since Knuckles…’ she stopped her thought, “Alright, old man. You’ve tickled my fancies with your little… bribe.” she twiddled her fingers towards the briefcase. “Give me the coordinates.”

She offered him her hand.

She smirked, this would be genius! Not only could she go undercover and discover what world he was lurking in, but she could also inform G.U.N of transmutation plans he has in store.

And pack up those lovelies to boot, too!

Flying herself into another dimension, she changed her looks to fit in with the local crowd, all too easy-going for her taste. She tried to get data on this world’s Eggman when she noticed Sonic and Tails. “That can’t be..?” She put a dainty hand up to her mouth, blinking at the uncanny resemblance. “What is this? The timeline where Sonic goes on vacation?” she joked, moving on when suddenly…

“Knuckles! Look out!”

“W-woah-woah!”

CRASH.

“Knuckles?” Rouge turned back around.

There was a crushed fruit stand, Zooey exclaimed a shriek as her hands moved up to her face, “My watermelons!” she looked like she was about to faint before Tails quickly rushed over and caught her, blushing with a smile.

“Oh no, is he dead?” Sticks walked up with Amy then, before they both turned to Sonic who approached soon after.

“Not another wipeout. That’s gotta be a new record!”

“Sonic, he was the record.”

“Not for long. I plan on beating his record, towering over his as it blasts through the sky!” he pointed skyward, but the girls just looked unimpressed.

“Men aspire to the most strangest and pointless things.” Sticks commented before a crowd gathered.

Being used to the attention, the Sonic team paid them no mind, but Rouge sneakily weaved her way to the front, all while pickpocketing and gathering a feathered boa and sunglasses as a disguise. She swiped the walrus’s necklace and rings before finishing her walk to the front.

Then…

Her boa lowered over her shoulder, her sunglasses fell forward and her mouth gaped wide.

A shadow casted over the crowd as a wet Knuckles rose from the watermelon remains and shook himself off from the juices.

In a slow-motion montage, Rouge was faced with the hardest challenge she has ever faced.

A beautiful distraction to her mission.

Biceps.

“Oh no.” Rouge’s eyes shrunk as she fell to her knees, ‘He’s even hotter in this world!!!’ she rose her face up as her signature heart pattern flew around her head, having small black bat wings as they did so.

She was infatuated, purposefully withholding the priority of her mission to meet with him.

“Uhh… I told ya, Lady. I don’t have a job other than being awesome.” Knuckles shrugged, then flexed as Rouge let a long line of a smile stretch over her face.

“Nothing? Not even a … ancestorial vow of guardianship to overlook the safety of- oh say… a Master Emerald?” she scooted closer, but Knuckles was too caught up on all the technical jargon to know what she was talking about.

“Emerald? What emerald?”

Her eyes shot straight open with stars in her eyes.

No distractions…

“And with that,” she pulled two of his long, trailing hairs down to force him to bend to her level. It didn’t matter though, her wings were already pulling her up to his height.

His eyes were right smack in front of hers, unsure how to process such a pretty woman’s actions, nor understand what they implied.

“You’re now officially the better of the two.” she went to flirt and move up closer to his wide chest she could literally sprawl herself out on when-

“Rouge! What’s the hold-up?! Where’s my formula?!” a mic triggered from her belt and she tsk’ed.

“Dratt. Even without your angry demeanor, there’s still something there to interrupt.” she pouted, glaring with a twitch of her eyebrow at her dimensions Eggman calling.

“…Wait, that sounded like-” It just so happened that Knuckles picked up the voice acting skills of Mike Pollock, which just so happened to be the same voice actor of his own Eggman.

“I hate to leave you wanting more, but I believe your rather large frame begs the question of if you can even fit more?” she let him go and blew him a kiss, heading for the other Eggman’s base.

“…I always have room for Meh-burgers…” He blushed, seeming to like the blown kiss, “Hehehehe…AH!” he placed a hand on his chest, snapping out of his timid blush, raising his head out of his scrunched up shoulders. “Is she calling me fat!? the humiliation! I knew I shouldn’t have skipped torso day!” he ran away crying, his self-esteem completely devasted.

The Sonic team attacked Eggman’s base, giving the perfect avenue for Rouge to steal the formula, but she was constantly distracted by this new Knuckles.

Then, a robot shot a beam at her wing and she began to fall.

“Woah! Bat lady!” Knuckles leaped to her rescue, punching down the robot that had struck her.

“No, Knuckles! It’s Batman- Hey! It’s a girl!” Tails was amazed to see a woman in his arms.

She lifted her leg up, squeeing a moment before flopping herself upright again. “No time, Knucklehead. I’ll swoon when my mission is- The vile!” she saw the formula, literally written down and rolled into a sailor’s bottle, crash to the ground as Eggman raced to get it.

“No, she’s a lady, Tails.” Knuckles argued, as though unable to follow the current pace of the conversation as she flew out of his arms. He looked offended on her behalf, but when turning back to his arms, noticed she was gone. “Woah! Hey! Where’d the pretty lady go?”

“Spy!” Eggman shot more lasers, but she skillfully dodged them, kicking them with her tornado kick and hitting them off his machine.

“Yeeeep!” Eggman ducked in fright as Rouge looked ticked off, grabbing the front of his Eggmobile.

“You’ve ruined my summer fling for the last time!” she tried to grab the formula but was swiftly removed by Knuckles again, delicately placing her back to the ground as the Sonic team gathered in front of her.

“What’d you steal this time, Egghead?”

“Me!? It’s her universe that’s- Grr… scratch that. Nothing to hear here!” he shook his hand as if to dismiss the topic. He flew off then, grumbling about the inappropriate attire and how anyone could sneak around with a pink heart on their chest.

The comments rose a fire in Rouge. She maneuvered out of Knuckles’s protective embrace and flew after Eggman. “Why you-! How dare you comment on a lady’s attire!”

He turned around, smirking as he summoned a portal back to her universe.

She gulped, “Oh drat. Can’t a lady get a vacation of her own too around here?” she accepted her defeat and flew through, after all…

She had what G.U.N needed, and…

There was only one Knucklehead for her.

It wasn’t fun if there wasn’t a Master Emerald to steal, or some raging red-faced echidna calling her names.

“It was a sweet summer, I’ll always think of you.” she blew a kiss to the Knuckles in this dimension, who looked relatively sad at her departure.

“Parting… is such sweet sorrow. I barely knew her, and yet,” Poetically, Knuckles bent down and picked up her calling card. “She remembered my birthday.” he thought the card was a birthday gift since he couldn’t read.

He was on the verge of tears as everyone and their mombot looked to each other with a ruffled brow to show their confusion on the matter.

Sonic stepped forward, lifting a finger up- “Uhh… Knuckles-” He was cut off by Amy shaking her head, placing her arm out.

“It was his first love, let him believe what he will.”

Tails scratched his head, “Wait,… is it really his birthday?”

The gang freaked out and hurriedly made plans for him, all the while… he sat and watched the sunset, holding her calling card in his large, fingered hand.

“Did I mention he had FINGERS? Ahhh-haha! Why couldn’t I have just stayed a week longer!?” Rouge fawned to her G.U.N reporting manager, who took a deep breath in and an elongated breath out. “Miss Rouge, PLEASE. For the love of this planet… what did you learn about the other world?”

“I’m telling you, Topaz. it was GORGEOUS.”

[askfem-sanders-sides]

First date

Warning: implied touch-starvation, e x t r e m e fluff

Ship: Rin (Fem!Remy) X Charlie (A- b o I -I made)

“When can I see?” Rin asked with a small pout “I-in a second.” The boy behind her stuttered. She heard a heavy metal door opening and shutting behind them as he walked her somewhere

Charlie took his hands away then stood next her nervously “Open...”

“Whoa.... Charlie where are we?” Rin spun in a circle finding herself surrounded by plants. Flowers and Giant leaves and tree galore- and in the almost pitch blankness with moonlight the only thing letting them see....

“You like it..?” Charlie asked from up in the air, almost floating in midair,

Again-Rin’s damn mouth “I like...you.” She turned to look at him

Charlie went bright red-from what she had said to the stars and moonlight reflecting in her eyes....how did I get a date with a girl like this?

This expressive, this adorable, this heartflutteringly magnificent.

Slowly, Charlie set himself on the floor shuffling slightly- “I like you too Rin-I really like you.” He admired looking away from her.

He still wore the blindfold like he always did. Even if she’d seen him without them- he shrugged the jacket on to cover up his wings.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Charlie tilted his head as Rin finished walking up to him

“Why do you hide them?” Gently she put a hand on the lazily thrown on jacket.

“People...really like to make fun of them. Let’s leave it at that.” It was obvious there was more to it-but

“They’re beautiful though” Rin was different. And there was that word again

Beautiful.

She’s said that when they first met too.

“Do you really think I’m beautiful?” Creepy, scary, freak-

“Mhm” I really really like her.

Gently he shrugged the jacket off again looking away from behind his blindfold.

“They’re so big...” Rin inquired looking over Chalies shoulders at the wings in his back.

“Are you a butterfly?” “Close. Moth.” ‘Ew moths are gross-‘

“That’s really cool” Rin smiled-smiled

She didn’t run away...

“You really think it’s cool?” His nervousness was heavily lessened after those three simple words a sense of trust and genuine cursiostiy about this girl left in its stead.

“Yeah! My “sister” Lila loves studying quirks-she loves studying in general actually and I guess I got some of that from her.” She shrugged

“You put quotes on sister-why?”

“Oh-I’m technically not real...”

......what?

“I’m part of a quirk. My “host” Victoria, can make copies of herself and give them traits from her own mind. I’m her sleep habits.”

“That’s awesome....”

“Really? Normally people find it kinda strange.” Rin chuckled

“You’re talking to a moth boy.”

“Touché Beautiful.”

Charlie went red in the face again-everytime she said that. Every time. His wings lowered in embarrassment, twitching ever so slightly.

“I’m not very good with compliments...”

“I can tell. I really do think you’re beautiful though...”

“Are you sure...? Like do you mean Me exactly or my wings?” Yes he’s heard that before-but the disappointment he felt when they only meant his wings was ingraved in his heart now.

“I mean you.” She gently cupped his face making him look at her, he leaned into the welcome touch, holding onto her arm gently.

They stayed like that for a little while just looking in complete science.

Until Charlie yawned at least.

“You May be able to stay up late but you still need sleep beautiful.”

His face warmed once more, and she could feel it as her hand still rested on his cheek.

“I could...fly you home maybe?” The nervousness is back-in the black of night.

“That’d be amazing! Can you please?” Rin asked basically jumping into his arms- he wanted to be embarrassed, or nervous like he had been all night but he wasn’t.

He smiled at her, beaming even. “Course I can!”

I really really like her!

Charlie has his arms wrapped around her hips, and hers were around his neck. His jacket oversized on her smaller body.

He-again Slowly- took off from what Rin realized then was a rooftop- almost falling because of the extra weight.

“Good?” “Good.” “Good.” Rin sighed in relief

Despite the small scare flying was....Incredible-indescribable almost. The neon lights of the city under them and the bright white moon light, giving everything the same eitheral glow as that night last week.

The night they met.

Charlie looked down at the brunette in his arms. His heart began to bound in his chest, he could hear it in his ears. The heat in his face felt permanent and he squeezed her hips lightly.

Is this what she felt like seeing me at first?

She wasn’t looking at him. Looking down into the city below them both. She was...so mesmerized-so purely in the moment and it felt so so good for someone to trust him like this. With their life-with her life. He didn’t even trust himself, not with her life.

I love her.

......-

I love her?!

“-rlie! Why’d we stop? Is something wrong?” He didn’t answer though he was back in the moment. It felt like his mind had been fogged over like a desert in a sandstorm

“Can I kiss you?”

Rin looked back at him-less like she was surprised and more like she was thinking

Why the fuck would you ask that-

“Yeah”

“Wait really?”

“Mhm, you can kiss me.” Andddd that’s how Rin short circuited Charlie’s Brain.

He had kissed like she was rain to a dessert-like food to the starved

Which in a way he was.

“One more time” In her calm/dazed state Rin has asked this- and oh so happily did Charlie oblige

Slotting their lips together felt like a match being struck, like fireworks being set off in his stomach, and an eraser whipping anything in his mind other then her.

How soft her lips were, the feeling of her fingers in his hair, the little bumps that textured her skin just- her.

I. Love. Her.

When they finally landed again it was at the dorms and they had to separate. The usual dull ache Charlie felt when was alone wasn’t their surprisingly.

I love her

I love Rin.

Charlie pulled his blindfold off and looked clearly into the mirror. And for one of the few times in his life. He smiled.

//h h h h I have diabetes and I love them-

@the-lavender-creator Mych better then my angst

This is just cute so @stop-it-anxiety

[shannaraisles]

Eclipsed - Chapter 3

Beware the company of wolves, my dear … beware the spawn of the dark. Where one rises, so does the other, and black blood runs in the streets. An old fable, perhaps, but one that is playing out on the streets of Denerim right under the noses of those not born to take notice. What happens when a mortal woman learns about the secret lives lived by the friends she thought she could trust? - A Modern Urban Fantasy Paranormal Romance AU

[Read on AO3]

Fort Drakon had once been the most feared gaol in Ferelden; the place where rebels were tortured and killed, where a Blight had been ended. These days, it had a slightly different reputation as the central building of Drakon College, the arts center of Denerim University. The place where countless men and women and elves and dwarves had suffered was now packed with music rooms, theater workshops, sound stages, and the liveliest canteen the university could boast. It was also home to the Arts Library, where Tatum worked when she wasn't studying or attending lectures and thus, it was Katrina's intended destination at this moment in time.

In the middle of the dual-level courtyard stood the Library itself, the only truly modern building within sight. Red brick and tall glass windows set it apart from the pre-Chantry Tevene architecture that surrounded it, the Satinalia decorations hanging in the windows giving it a more homely feel than Kat had been expecting to find in a library. There were six snowmen standing outside it as well, three on each side of the main door, and the sight made her laugh quietly to herself as she headed for the entrance. She remembered Tatum telling her about building those in protest at the head librarian, Mr Rutherford, not having any decent decorations for the season. He had given in after they'd stolen his spare glasses to put on one of the snowmen, apparently. None of the snow people was wearing glasses that she could see, so she assumed a condition of buying new decorations had been the returning of the hostage.

Grinning to herself, Katrina pushed open the door to the library, sighing happily as the warmth of a well-heated building washed over her. Sweet Maker, she hated winter in Ferelden with a passion. It had never got this cold in Ostwick, not even in the deepest part of winter. But this was where Tatum had wanted to be, so here they were. Thank goodness for the Fereldan obsession with supremely overheated buildings.

Already stripping off her hat and scarf, she looked around curiously at the quiet library, wondering if she should text her little sister to remind her they had a date, when her attention was caught by an enormous patchwork quilt hanging on the widest clear wall of this first floor. Each square was unique, obviously having been created by the student body at some point in the past, a riot of color and personality that clamored for the attention of the viewer. The border tied it all together, decorated with running mabari, silver on a background of black. Stepping closer, her gaze was drawn to a simply decorated square - what looked like deep navy blue velvet, decorated with pinpricks of silver and gold thread, and in the corner, a silver lamé circle. A beautifully rendered night sky complete with full moon.

"We do ask that people don't touch the quilt."

Katrina jumped, snatching her hand back from the square that had caught her attention so vividly, and turned, blinking in surprise at what she found behind her. Or rather, who.

Standing just a foot or two away was the grumpiest of her new acquaintances from last night, the gorgeous one who hadn't appreciated being teased about getting her laid. In the gloom of the bar, he had been gorgeous enough, but here and now, in the light of day ... She swallowed, unable to keep her eyes from wandering.

The man who had last night worn a dark t-shirt and jeans and glared at the world from behind his pint of ale was now stood upright, showing off his broad shoulders and the vaguest hint of a soft tummy in two parts of a three-piece suit. The jacket had either been abandoned or left off entirely, leaving him in a gray vest buttoned over a soft blue shirt, sleeves rolled up and top two buttons undone. The amber eyes that had caught her breath last night studied her from behind thick-rimmed glasses, his golden curls brushing over his brow.

And he wasn't speaking. He was just ... staring down at her, the way she was staring up at him, both of them apparently lost in similar thoughts. Maker's breath, not that similar, I hope. Kat wasn't entirely sure she wanted this beautiful specimen of a man to think of her like that.

Someone dropped something, the thump echoing through the quiet building, and she jumped again, tearing her gaze from his.

"I-I'm sorry, I ... it's lovely," she offered, glancing over her shoulder at the quilt.

The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile that tugged at the scar on his lip and made her think some truly sinful thoughts about what she could do with that mouth before she could stop herself.

"It is, isn't it?" he said, looking up at the vast quilt. "I did not mean to startle you. May I help you? Katrina, isn't it?"

Kat cleared her throat, forcing her hands to stay wrapped up in her handful of scarf and hat rather than fidget.

"Ah, yes, and, uh ... actually, I'm here to pick up my sister," she told him. "I-I didn't realize that you were Mr. Rutherford."

"Cullen," he corrected her, and she felt her lips twitch in an unbidden smile. "And you must be Tatum's sister. As far as I am aware, she is putting the back room to a purpose it was never intended for with Carver."

Kat frowned curiously.

"Who's Carver?"

It was worth the flash of vague hurt that Tatum apparently had a boyfriend she hadn't mentioned just to see Cullen momentarily at a loss for words. His mouth fell open, working silently for just a few seconds before he cleared his throat, wincing as he looked away. His hand rose to rub at his neck awkwardly.

"Could we, perhaps, pretend I did not say that?" he asked hopefully. Before she could respond, however, he was already moving on. "I, uh ... I believe I made something of a poor impression on you last night. It was not my intention to be unpleasant. Isabela constantly puts me on my guard."

"No, I-I can understand that," Kat assured him, her smile coming more easily at the implied apology. "It was pretty awkward with the whole table talking about getting me laid."

He chuckled awkwardly, and she felt a part of herself melt. There was something rather adorable about that sound, that expression on his face.

"All the same, I apologize for my behavior," he insisted. "I hope it won't prevent you from cultivating a musical friendship with Leliana. She is rather excited about it."

Kat blinked.

"Really?" she asked, surprised that the redhead had even remembered the conversation they had shared at the end of the night. "I mean, well ... it sounds like fun, but we didn't exchange numbers or anything like that. I don't have a way to contact her."

Cullen shrugged, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his cell phone.

"I could give you her number, if you would like?" he offered, frowning when Kat quickly shook her head.

"You shouldn't be giving out other people's phone numbers without their express consent," she pointed out, her expression softening at the flicker of guilt in his gaze. She considered him for a moment, and sighed. Why not? He seems trustworthy. "If I give you my number, could you give it to her?"

Cullen's mouth fell open for a moment, a glimmer in his whiskey-warm eyes almost delighted for a split second before he was nodding enthusiastically. Despite herself, Kat realized she was reminded of a large, friendly dog with that gesture, fighting not to laugh as she took his phone from his hand and typed in her own contact details.

"Oh my Maker, are you hitting on my sister, Mr. R?"

Kat didn't even bother looking up as Tatum's arm slung about her shoulders, handing Cullen's phone back to him before looking her sister in the eye.

"Finished playing tonsil hockey in the back room?" she asked innocently.

Tatum gasped theatrically, turning a playful glare onto Cullen.

"You told," she accused him laughingly.

"You locked me out of my office," he answered calmly, and Kat was both surprised and rather pleased to see the same playful flicker in his eyes once again. He was playing, and enjoying playing, rather than insulted or annoyed. That was surprisingly attractive. "Is Carver still conscious?"

"Last I saw, he was muttering about  the new catalog system," Tatum told the librarian cheerfully. "And I clocked out, so technically I'm not responsible for him right now."

"You decided to date him, that makes you responsible for him," was Cullen's response, his gaze flickering to Kat for a moment. "Don't let me detain you, I understand you have plans for the afternoon."

"Great! I'll grab my stuff."

And with that, Tatum slipped away to collect her belongings. Kat looked up at Cullen with a faint smile.

"Well, it's been ... it's been a pleasure to meet you again, Cullen," she said in a friendly way, offering him her hand. "I, um, I expect we'll meet again."

"I hope so, Katrina," he agreed, his large, warm hand enclosing hers in a gentle grasp.

"Kat," she corrected him without thinking, charmed by the way his face lit up behind his glasses.

"Kat," he confirmed, belatedly taking his hand from hers. "I will give Leliana your contact information. I expect she will be in touch within a day."

"I look forward to it. Thank you." Kat nodded, glancing away as Tatum rejoined them, wrapped up in her coat and scarf. "Ready to go, vampette?"

To her surprise, this was apparently hilarious to Cullen, who hurriedly turned his face away as he spluttered with laughter at her address to her little sister. Tatum cackled with laughter of her own at this not so subtle allusion to her back room antics, taking the hat out of Katrina's hands to wriggle it onto her elder sister's head.

"C'mon, spinster, before your purity starts showing," she said impishly, looping an arm through Kat's. "See you tomorrow, Mr. R!"

Cullen was still attempting to swallow down his chuckles, nodding as he offered a dismissive wave to the two women as they left. Kat wasn't entirely sure what was so funny about implying that her sister was a femme fatale, but apparently Tatum was a different sort of person when she was at work. It made her wonder what else she didn't know about the little sister she had turned her life upside down for. It wasn't the sort of thing she could just blurt out while they were walking through the campus, though, which meant Tatum got a slight reprieve.

A very slight reprieve, because as soon as they were sat down with their lunch at a cafe Kat hadn't even known existed off the Royal Market Square, her big sister just had to bring it up.

"So ..." Kat eyed her sister over a forkful of mashed potato. "Who is Carver?"

The guilt on Tatum's face would have been comical if Kat wasn't feeling hurt over being the last to know. The way Cullen had spoken, it seemed as though this relationship was not new, nor was it being kept a secret from anyone but her. But Tatum rallied in the face of her sister's soulful gaze.

"I didn't mean to leave you out," she said, concern bleeding from her eyes to color her expression as she spoke. "I just ... You've been kind of all about me for months now. I mean, you don't go out; you haven't kept in contact with your friends in Ostwick or Starkhaven. You just ..." She sighed. "You seem really lonely, Kat. I know I can't force you to go out and make new friends, but I thought keeping this quiet was a way of not making that worse for you."

"Why would you having a boyfriend make me feel bad?" Kat asked. "I'm glad you found someone you feel that way about. But I am hurt that you didn't feel like you could tell me."

"You're missing the point, but okay," Tatum conceded, pushing her fries through the gravy on her plate. "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Kit-Kat."

Kat held her gaze for a long moment, but she knew she didn't really have room to complain. She herself had kept Sebastian a secret for three years while she attended university in Starkhaven, after all. She relented, offering up a forgiving smile.

"I get it," she assured her sister. "It's fine. But I want to know all about it. I cannot be outdone by your precious Mr. Rutherford when it comes to your love life."

Tatum laughed, a very faint blush painting her cheeks as she took a mouthful of her drink.

"To be fair, Carver does live with him," she offered, as though trying to assuage this sting.

Kat blinked in surprise; she hadn't expected that.

"What, are they related?" she asked, curious more about Cullen than the mysterious Carver. "He doesn't look old enough to have a son your age."

Now it was Tatum's turn to blink and stare for a moment, disbelief melting into a shriek of laughter that drew embarrassingly curious eyes toward their table until it was clear that nothing untoward was happening. Kat rolled her eyes, waiting patiently for her sister's fit of the giggles to calm down.

"No! Oh, Maker, no ..." Tatum gasped for breath, waving her hand as she fought for control of her mirth. "No, they're not related. It's kind of complicated, but I guess Mr. R is sort of Carver's guardian? He, uh, he knows Carver's brother."

"Oh, I get it." Kat smiled, choosing not to examine why this was something of a relief. "So Carver's not from around here, either?"

"No, he grew up all over Ferelden," Tatum clarified for her. "His mom moved him and his brother and sister to Kirkwall a year and a half ago, and he decided he wanted to come to uni in Denerim. So his brother called up Mr. R and arranged stuff."

What a lovely thing to do for a friend, Kat thought to herself, impressed that Cullen really did seem to have a heart as beautiful as his face. But she was supposed to be finding out about Tatum's boyfriend, not fishing for information about a handsome man. She wasn't in the market for a relationship, anyway. She distinctly remembered saying that to Isabela last night. Before you met Cullen, a quiet voice in the back of her mind pointed out.

"All right, so tell me all about Carver," she said, dismissing these thoughts to lean forward with teasingly eager eyes. "How did you meet? When did you start smooching in the stacks? Who asked who out?"

Giggling around her mouthful, Tatum swallowed, only too happy to tell her sister everything. The sheer pleasure at being able to talk freely at last went a long way to assuaging Kat's hurt feelings, gathering her close into her sister's confidence once more. Though the difference in their ages might be considered significant by some, it had never kept them from sharing everything they possibly could. Which was how they ended up in a subject Kat really should have expected to crop up.

"So ..." Tatum drew the word out, nudging her elder sister's arm as they walked over the bridge toward their own area of the city. "You gave Mr. R your number. Are you gonna bone my boss?"

"Tater!" Kat let out that exclamation in absolute shock, but swiftly dissolved into giggles. "That-that, no, that is not what was happening!"

"Oh, c'mon, he's gorgeous," Tatum pressed. "And you obviously noticed. You had those shiny eyes and everything, and he was staring at you like he'd seen Andraste's tits on a plate."

"Maker, what a terrible mental image." Kat shuddered affectedly, sharing a grin as her sister snorted with laughter.

"You know what I mean!" Tatum nudged her a little harder, this time making the gesture discernible through two layers of thick quilted winter coat. "I saw you with his phone. Did he ask you out?"

Kat laughed, shaking her head.

"No," she told her sister in amusement. "He was just getting my number to pass it on to a friend I made last night. Leliana's one of his friends, too, so it seemed like a good idea."

"Wait, wait, wait ... you met Mr. R last night and I'm only just now hearing about it?" Tatum demanded playfully. "Carver said he was going out to some music show last night - you went to that?"

"Yes." Kat tried not to sound defensive. "Isabela invited me, so I went out. And Leliana was performing her first show in a while, and all her friends were there, and they were very welcoming. Actually, wait, no, they weren't all welcoming. Your Mr. R was a bit weird and unfriendly. But he is much nicer in the light of day."

"Carver said something about Mr. R meeting someone he really liked last night and being all grumpy that he hadn't made a good impression," Tatum mused, grinning down at her big sister. "And it was you! Oh Maker, and you gave him your number to give to someone else?" She cackled with laughter. "He's gotta be so torn right now."

"Why would he be torn about that?" Kat asked, bemused by her sister's amusement.

"Duh!" Tatum rolled her eyes. "Pretty girl he kinda fancies gives him her phone number to give to someone else - does he keep it once he's passed it on, or does he delete it? Total conundrum, Kitty-Kat."

"He seems like a perfect gentleman, I trust that he'll do what's appropriate with it."

But inside, Kat could feel the blush wanting to make itself known. Had she given her number to Cullen so he could pass it on, or had she used the act of passing it onto Leliana as an excuse to give him her number? If even she wasn't sure, then she was certain he couldn't be. And if he was as gentlemanly as he seemed, then having her number would not be enough for him to make use of it. And why did she care, anyway? She'd only met him recently, not nearly long enough to know much more than how gorgeous he was both in and out of work, and last night, almost all his friends had been very ready to join in with Isabela's teasing about getting them into bed together.

Which isn't going to happen, she reminded herself. She was not looking for a relationship. She didn't want a relationship. And if she kept telling herself that, she might just start believing it, too.

[welcome-to-chao-hub]

((....oh hey I’m adding Jules to the blog))

“Chuck, I am extremely grateful for you and letting me work here,” the blue robian said as he and Uncle Chuck walked towards the Chao Garden building. “Though, I am confused as to why or how you have access to this area if you don’t work here either.”

“Eh, I do the maintenance now and then and from what I heard, they could use the help,” the older hedgehog explained. “Considering who’s all on the roster, I don’t blame them for looking for more help.”

“Who should I be expecting then?”

Chuck rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, one’s Geoffrey-”

“That St. John fellow that sided with Naugus and fought with Sonic a few times, right?” Jules asked, tilting his head and emitting a sigh when his brother nodded. “Of course. Trying to brown nose his way back into the King’s good graces, I’m assuming.”

“Actually, that was Elias’ idea, under the condition that he was watched. Though his, ahem, guard is running late,” he noted as he watched a purple hedgehog run out of the building they were about to walk into. “Morning, Elise.”

“Morning, Mr. C!” she greeted, jogging in place as a small rabbit quickly followed her out as well. “Say hi to Shard for me when he shows up! He texted he’s on his way. I gotta get Cream to daycare this morning since her mom’s not feeling well then make a mad dash to my next class!”

“I figured as much. Tell your mom hi for us, Cream, and hope she feels better!”

“I will! Bye Mr. Sonic’s Dad and Mr. Chuck!” Cream said as the girl scooped her up and started booking it.

Jules blinked at the scene before looking at his brother. “....I’m gonna take a guess and say that those were two more people on the roster.”

“Yeah, but Cream’s a volunteer and Elise is a college student,” he shrugged. “While they’re both....capable of taking care of themselves (hell, Cream’s technically a Freedom Fighter if the two teams were to merge again), I am worried about Shard. I’ve been getting calls about how he’s hardly showing up and he knows how important this place is for him. There’s only so much that Elias can do before they straight up kick him off the roster for good and Source knows how many strings I’ll even be able to pull at the next place.”

Jules chuckled lightly at that. “Sounds like to me that he’s more your son than anything. Something you haven’t told me?” he teased, elbowing him a little. While he was being careful, he still couldn’t help it when Chuck gave him a glare and rubbed his arm. “Still don’t know my own strength at times! But still, who’s the lucky lady?”

“Still single.”

“Still?? ......alright, but seriously, I’ve seen you worry over my son the same way sometimes, but I don’t recall it being this bad.”

Chuck rubbed the back of his neck again as he said, “Shard’s a bit of an...exception.”

He was about to ask more when a black blur sped by going, “CRAP CRAP CRAP CRAP!” The duo watched as the robotic hedgehog zoomed over to the clock-in station and after some frantic clicking cheered loudly. “HA! Made it! Frick you to all the obstacles in my way!”

Geoff barely glanced up from his magazine. “Cream’s not here, you can technically swear.”

“You’re just jealous that I managed to clock in before it was considered ‘late’.”

“Oh yeah, great accomplishment all right next to the other ones-”

Jules tuned them out as he watched the interaction, though mostly staring at the robian. But...that was.... He glanced over at Chuck and couldn’t read his expression. Funny, he was supposed to be the robot here. Well, if his brother was giving him a chance, hell, even being a father figure from what he could understand, he might as well introduce himself.

He approached the two and ‘cleared’ his throat to get the two to notice him. Geoff actually looked sheepish as he stepped away, muttering something about needing to check on of the rooms. He held out a hand to the Metal Sonic. “I believe we haven’t met before. I’m Jules and I’ll be your coworker. I believe you know my brother and my son.”

Shard hesitantly took the hand and shook it. “R-right, um, about that-”

“Though try not to start any fights with your cousin, next time you and my brother are over, alright?” he added, pretty certain that he would be grinning like a Cheshire Cat with how Shard’s face seemed to freeze at what the robian was implying before grinning widely and started to show him around the area. The set up among the ‘employees’ were strange, but he might actually like working here.