#was sort of screwing around with the backgrounds in this one hopefully it looks alright all together despite the shifting haha

[humming-fly]

Who better to trust with a secret than a known liar?

anyways my apologies to b99 and happy countdown to the magolor bullying simulator release later this month! 

[jamestrmtx]

Wish Upon a Night Sky - [Beastars | Various x Reader]

[Female, Sheep Reader | Slow Burn]

Summary:

After calling upon the decision to test the waters between carnivores and herbivores, things at Cherryton Academy turn far more tense than they already were. Unsurprisingly, there are those who poke fun at the decision, both with good and bad reasons at hand. Calling the academy out on such high of a risk's understandable, but mocking carnivores for making friends with their opposites isn't.

Having been sheltered through seventeen years of homeschooling and the rigid rule of never going out at night, you far from expect being allowed to attend there after your eighteenth birthday. Regardless, you don't plan on cowering back. Your want to expose yourself to the real world, meet new people, and live through new experiences outweighs that fear, transforming it into strength.

Act One | Man's Best Friend

[Previous] | [Next]

Already messy files almost end up scattered on the floor, yet you manage to salvage them right on time. Your hands and legs shake just as fast as your heart beats; even breathing is a challenge with how stressed your mind is. Being around a large number of people wasn't the norm in your home; you'd been used to being a close family of six since you were born, and nothing more. Spending time with others beyond relatives was a rarity, as was the idea and agreement of having you study your final year in Cherryton -- far outside the safety of your home. Now that you're eighteen and near to graduating, your family's given you three simple rules to follow: never step out of campus at night, never join acting, and never show daintiness. All three of them emphasize the word 'never'; not a single space for protest or bargain is left in those rules. You knew the consequences of going out at night, as well as the risks of calling forth unwanted attention by choosing not to dress how you were told and letting any sort of bubbly nature out. Being forbidden to join acting was by far the only thing they hadn't explained to you by full.

"Your dorm is through here," Jack says, pointing with his eyes and snout over to a busy hallway.

While the person giving you the tour isn't exactly the type you were warned of before being admitted into this school, he isn't exactly of your type either, but more of a happy medium between the two: a dog. Not quite a carnivore and not quite a herbivore, he's what you learned to be an omnivore -- a kind you were taught to be wary of just as much as a wolf or a lion. Even then, his presence is about as warm and welcoming as sun rays on a cold, winter day, and you find it hard not to smile when he continues to show you around the place. He only ever stops when he sees he's left you far behind, a product of you losing yourself in your thoughts and the new world around you. 

His excitement is one you wish you could manifest just as much as him, though the reminder of how you had to behave at this school leads you to brush and bury those ideas away and hold yourself back.

"Are you okay?"

Jack's question paired up with his careful tone help pull you out of your daydreaming. How concerned he looks makes you take note of the expression you're carrying. Oftentimes, you scrunched up your snout and furrowed your brow -- whenever you became lost in thought, mostly. To any outsider like him, it would seem as if though you're bothered by something, so you hurry in your reply, words leaving you in a rush, "I'm okay." Your smile returns as you meet his eyes. "I just… I got caught up with something else."

"Nervous about staying here?"

"About everything, honestly."

He lets out a laugh at that, and his gaze brightens as he motions for you to follow him once more.

Your next destination is what appears to be the rooms you were informed of at the beginning of your visit -- judging by the rows of doors laid around, along with one of them left open, displaying a bunk bed in the background. There's a student by the dresser, combing her fur without so much as bothering to look at you or Jack. She's far too focused on her brushing to acknowledge she's left the room visible to those wandering outside, though -- with her being a wolf -- you assume she's confident in herself. Or you believe so, at the very least, as based on the rumours your parents and every other family member taught you.

You halt when you notice Jack stops right by that door and see him gesture over with his head for you to step inside. 

"Is this allowed?" you blurt out, rushing to cover up not a minute after that question leaves your mouth. "O- Oh gosh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that."

"It's alright," he says, chuckling. "I know you're homeschooled, so if you have any questions about how things work here, feel free to ask me!" He stops for a moment and seems to recall something along the way. "And you can come over to my place, too, if you need more help with showing you around."

"How bold of you to invite a girl into the boys' dorm, Jack." 

A feminine voice comes from behind him, and -- soon after -- the wolf from earlier appears next to the dog. She directs a cheeky grin at him, then a friendlier smile at you. "You're my roommate, aren't you?" she says, nodding her head in the direction of your dorm. "What are you standing there for? I want to get to know you!" She sounds about twice as cheerful as Jack acts. "I was told about your arrival almost three whole months ago, so the wait has been long enough."

"...You're Juno?" you ask, making memory of the list handed over to you just a few hours ago. 

She nods, eyes softening. "(Y/N), right? It's... nice to have a herbivore who won't look for a change of dorms the second she sees me."

Already feeling guilty, you can only hope she hadn't heard you earlier ago. It was a known fact you tended to speak without thinking sometimes (if not, most of the time), so you make a mental note out of it and set up a goal to improve on that throughout the rest of the year. You thank Jack and say your goodbyes before following her into the room.

At the sound of the door closing, you breathe a sigh of relief with the knowledge you've made it this far without screwing up too badly. The next thing in mind is to try sparking up some conversation, but only when you make enough mental preparation for it -- aware your thoughts might run haywire and tactless again. "But... Why would they do that? Isn't it normal at this school?"

Juno shows you around the room and stops next to one of the beds, bottom one being the only one out of all the others around to have some of her possessions settled down on it. "It's allowed," she replies and continues with, "And though it's not too uncommon for both carnivores and herbivores to be placed together... Things got a lot more tense after a student's passing." Her ears droop along with her tail, and a hint of gloom clashes with her friendly demeanor. "That's why you're the only other woman in this room, and why I…" Her body shudders as she lets out a breath. "Why I try not to walk alone in the halls anymore." She takes another breath and lets it out with a huff. A hushed swoon then seems to take her over, replacing her sadness about as quickly as her ears go back up. "Although... I guess I wouldn't have met someone wonderful, if some students hadn't cornered me for being a carnivore not long after I arrived here."

The wolf sighs, then faces you with droopy eyelids and a softer smile. "Tell me, (Y/N)... Have you ever fallen in love? It's the most incredible feeling I can describe!" She sits down on the bottom bed, though she scoots aside, leaving you some space next to her. "They say your last year at school's the last chance you have for experiencing an emotion so strong, but I like to believe it will carry on as long as your love is powerful enough for it!"

While you're a bit lost as to what point she's trying to make, you smile and nod along as you wait for her to continue speaking. 

After all, having two friends at the beginning of your final school year didn't sound like a bad idea. Hopefully, your lonely days would start to change; your conversation with Jack and your current one with Juno have been -- without much exaggeration -- the most interaction you've had during all your eighteen years of living. Knowing you were finally free to meet as many people as you'd want as well as study over brand-new things and the relationships between both kinds made your worries and doubts more than worthwhile. No matter how often your family and distant acquaintances warned you otherwise, you needed to grow, learn, explore, and see more outside what was taught to you at home. 

You hear Juno out until she asks if you have a special someone yourself; the question turns out to be a bit of a difficult one to answer with how little people you knew to this day. So far, the only experience you remember similar to that of having a crush on someone was by reading stories of adventure and challenge when you were younger. All of these were confiscated by your family whenever you gained too many ideas, fell for a character, or whenever a book so much as mentioned the word carnivore between its pages -- in a light aside from that of hostile and negative.

Although it feels like nothing short of wishful thinking, you hope your current circumstances change soon with the new path being offered out to you; in that, you carry a strong and unshakable desire over.

And, who knows? 

Maybe one day you'd be able to sneak out and watch the night sky, too -- and with a friend or two by your side, preferably.

"I don't, but…" You trail off to consider her question; overwhelmed by the changes and influenced by her energetic self, you find it hard not to follow along with her. "I wouldn't mind having one -- if that opportunity ever came around!"

[Previous] | [Next]

[hoebii]

Like me better

Pairing : Park Jimin x Reader

Genre : Fluff, Highschool!Au, e2l, rivals

Rating : PG13

Warning : ‘Curse’ words are mentioned (is ‘shit’ even a curse word fhgjv), OC wanting to choke Jimin and not in the kinky way, brief mention of Jimin being a playboy thot, hating on mint chocolate because it’s the worst flavour to exist you can fight me on this

Wc : 4k

A/N : Alright, this was originally supposed to be a birthday drabble but it got a little out of hand as you can see. We had a whole lot planned for this fic but it got too long oops- so we decided to cut it short and keep the ending open huhu. Happiest birthday to our precious maknae @heejinnien​ from @xiaokoo​ (who also made this AMAZING banner btw) and I. Hope you like your present baby! We love you so so so much~<3 Also this isn’t as edited as I’d like it to be but I got impatient okay don’t @ me :<

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

The bustling crowd of students bumped into you repeatedly as you weaved through them to get to class. You kept a strong grip on your books so as to not drop them. People squeezed passed as you tried not to trip and fall flat on your face. You had slept through your alarms and were currently rushing to your class, cursing at yourself for this blunder in your head. 

“Sorry, excuse me, oh shit!” You catch yourself as you tumbled to the ground. Your books splay across the floor as you winced at the sore feeling. Hopefully, no one would step on you or your books - you had paid good money for them!-. As for tripping over, you looked over your shoulder, glaring when you caught sight of a group of boys laughing. 

“Aw is little princess hurt?~” You heard one of them call out, the others snickering in the background. You ignored them and started gathering all your books, telling yourself they weren’t worth the trouble. You were almost done picking up all the books on the ground when one was suddenly snatched from your grasp. Looking up at the culprit you see Park Jimin, the bane of your existence, holding it up.

“Are you sure you even need books?” He snickers, flicking through it. “You’re not even smart, why bother studying if it doesn’t do you any good?” 

You feel your blood boil. How dare he?! You were smarter than him in every possible way. He had no right to mock you, sure he was smart but you always placed second. If there was one thing you hated, it was being second best to Park Jimin. 

“You’ll just come second like always.” 

That comment hit you hard. You tried to keep your cool, resisting the urge to punch him in the face. Sure, Jimin was annoying but there was no way you were going to create a scene because of it. Not again. Instead, you rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore him and walked away. There would be no reason to argue with a dumbass. Why waste your time?

Jimin watched as you walked away. He smirked to himself. Despite acting calm, he’d known you long enough to know that you were fuming inside. There were buttons he knew how to push to get the reaction he wanted and he thoroughly enjoyed provoking you. 

--------

You stumbled into the classroom, panting from the light jog. “Damn I need to get back in shape, Jesus Christ.” you whispered to yourself. 

“Miss Y/L/N, care to explain why you’re five minutes late to the class?” Your professor’s voice boomed in the small classroom. You look at him, giving him a sheepish smile as you rub your neck. 

“I… got lost…?” 

What was that?! You wanted to smack yourself at your own words. So much for your perfect attendance. 

“You got lost?”

“Y...es…”

Your professor took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Just, just go to your seat.”

You scurried to your seat, setting down your books and sitting down. You heard snickering from beside you and you turned your head slightly towards the sound to see none other than Park Jimin laughing at you. Feeling your face flush in embarrassment, you turned towards your professor and started jotting down notes. You were not going to get riled up by Jimin during a class. 

-----------

It’s official. Life hates you. You must have been some sort of a witch in your last life who thrived by torturing others. That had to be it. Why else would you ever get partnered with Park freaking Jimin for your science project?! Apparently, the professor had said it was because you two were ‘top students that will compliment each other well’. But you’re certain it was actually because she hated you and you must have tortured her or something in your past life and this was her way of getting revenge. You’re pretty sure you came up with at least 7 ways to end Park Jimin in the time he took to move his seat closer to you for ‘discussing details about the project.’ 

“So you’re gonna draw the diagram and write everything,” Jimin started as soon as he sat down. He dumped his bags to one corner taking out the necessities. “I will be supervising you as I’m clearly the better one here.”

Oh how much you craved to just lean forward and wrap your fingers around his neck and choke him. How can a person be this insufferable? You could just shove a damn pen up his- 

“Alright class dismissed! Remember, the deadline is on Monday next week! Have a nice weekend.” Your professor announced, snapping you out of your thoughts.  

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, don’t screw up the project.” 

With that Jimin left you sitting there fuming at him. You let out a tired sigh and begin packing up to leave too, mind running wild. Why couldn’t Jimin just be a good person for once?

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

The weekend seemed to go by in a flash, just you working on the project with Jimin, who had surprisingly been quite helpful. Just when you thought he had a heart, he had said it was ‘so you don’t ruin my grades.’ Yeah nevermind he still sucks.

What you didn’t know was Jimin being nice - well as nice as a jerk can get anyway - was because he had a bet to win. One of the boys had proposed a bet after class when he caught Jimin bickering with you yet again. The bet was simple really, ask you out and date you for a while before leaving you. Jimin had refused at first but then everyone started taunting him. Who liked getting mocked? No one. It was plain simple anyways, no one would actually get hurt, wasn’t like you liked him. So he accepted.

It wasn’t easy to catch your attention, given the fact the both of you were mortal enemies, it was near impossible. He did everything in his power so you would look at him but all tactics had somehow managed to flop. There was only one other way of actually getting you to notice him and that was annoying you. However, that would ruin the whole point of the bet. 

“Y/n, Y/n, Y/n.” Jimin chanted as he poked you on the cheek incessantly. “Y/n pay attention to meeee.” He continued to whine. 

You felt your right eye twitch. Why was this dumbass bothering you?! There was no reason for him to even be five feet close to you. 

“What is it Jimin?” You turn to him, a sickly sweet smile on your face. “What is so important that you’re trying to talk to me?”

Jimin grinned, his eyes turning into crescents as he poked his cheek and gave a wink. “Hi~ How are you doing?”  

Is he for real right now? Did he think he was cute? You felt like throwing up. “Park what are you up to? You never act,” you started, eyes squinting in suspicion, “like whatever you’re doing right now.” 

Jimin gasped and placed a hand on his chest as if in pain before exclaiming, “What?! Me? Up to something? Impossible, I’m as innocent as an angel.” 

An angel? More like a devil. There was no way he was telling the truth. You’d known him long enough and not once in your life had he treated you with such...whatever that emotion was.

“Right. An angel. Okay.” You nodded.

“Do you not believe me? You can ask anyone on this campus and they would tell you how amazing I am.” He gestured his hands wildly. 

You scoffed at that, of course they would, he had slept with the majority and had the remaining wrapped around his tiny fingers. Plus, no one wanted to cross Park Jimin. He ruled the campus and everyone knew it. 

“Listen, just get to the point. I don’t have time for this nonsense.” You said, rolling your eyes and huffing. You had to get to your next class in about five minutes. There was no way you were going to be late because some idiot was bothering you. 

“Go on a date with me.”

You choked on air at that, did you hear that right? “E-excuse me what?!”

Jimin shrugged and crossed his hands, flexing slightly, “You heard me, go on a date with me this weekend. Heard there's a new ice cream shop here, we could go there.” 

“You want to take me on a date?” You look at him skeptically. Was this a test? Were you being filmed? “You’re joking.”

“No.” He fixed you with a stare. “I’m serious. One date, if you don’t enjoy that one date, I promise I won't bother you ever again.”

You stood there staring at him, alarm bells ringing in your head. This can’t be real. He’s lying. “You? Never bothering me ever again? That’s like saying you don’t sleep with everyone you meet.”

“I didn’t sleep with you.”

“That’s different!” You exclaimed, face flushing. “You hate me!”

Jimin tilted his head, his nose scrunching up. “I never said I hate you.” You open your mouth ready to retaliate. “You simply assumed I did, my actions don’t mean anything unless I say something.”

You stood speechless. There had to be one occasion where he had stated he hated you. One. You searched your brain. Sure enough there was no such memory. 

Not wanting to lose to Jimin nonetheless you stomped your feet and said, “Yeah well that makes no sense! Haven’t you heard ‘actions speak louder than words’? I thought you were smart” You tsked, shaking your head as if you were disappointed.

“But I’m standing here asking you out, I’m sure that counters all the things I’ve done to you.” He gives you a sly smirk, one you’re all too familiar with. “There’s really two options Y/n. One’s yes and the other is...yes. Which one do you choose?”

If you could you would have burned him to a crisp with your glare. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been gifted with laser vision like superman. It would have been quite a gift if you had. Imagine how peaceful life would be without Park Jimin judging your every move. Then again, you would miss him. Wait what?! You shook your head to clear your mind before looking at Jimin.

“No.”

Jimin’s eyes widened as he spluttered. “W-what do you mean no?!”

“N-O. No. Don’t tell me you forgot basic english.”

Jimin clicked his tongue in annoyance, glaring at you. No one had ever turned him down. Whatever Park Jimin wants he gets. Right now he wants you. 

“Why not?” 

You gave him a look. “Well, it isn’t exactly a secret that you sleep with anything that has two legs. I don't even know why you’re asking me out, you never go on dates.”

“That's because you’re different.”

You scoff. “Listen Park, this isn’t some shitty rom com that you can charm your way to my heart, this is reality and I’m smart enough to realise how much of a jerk you actually are.”

Words seemed to die in Jimin’s throat. A jerk?! Sure, he annoyed you but he didn't think he deserved the title of a jerk. If it wasn’t for that stupid bet he wouldn’t even be asking you out. There was no reason why you couldn’t go on just one date with him. It wasn’t as if he was asking you to juggle swords and then swallow them. Besides, Jimin was a very attractive person and he knew it too. What’s so bad about going out with him? You should feel blessed he was even asking you out in the first place!

“Just say yes already woman. One date won’t kill you,” Jimin groaned out, throwing his head back in frustration.

“One date with you will.”

You stared at each other, no one making a single move. The silence stretched on for a moment before Jimin sighed loudly and ran a hand through this hair. 

“Come on!”

“No”

“...Please?” Jimin couldn’t believe he had to beg. He never begs! The things he does for a stupid bet.

Rolling your eyes at Jimin, you sigh, “Fine. We can go there this Saturday.”

“I begged, why won’t you just accep--” Jimin started before cutting himself off, “Oh you said yes. Um, well, yeah ok.” He mumbled, trying to fix his composure. “Yeah see you there or something. Bye,” and with that he walked away, leaving you both amused and confused… and also late for class! Damn Park Jimin.

-----------

You stood in front of the ice cream shop waiting for Jimin to show up. He was late, but then again what were you expecting anyway? You rolled your eyes as you looked around, “If he doesn’t show up in the next minute, I’m leaving.” you mumbled to yourself, checking your watch for what felt like the umpteenth time. 

“Y/n!” A voice shouted from behind causing you to turn around. Jimin ran towards you, panting slightly. “Sorry, I had to run all the way here.”

“Did you forget about the date or were you just being a jerk and were late intentionally?”

His face flushed pink, avoiding your gaze. “I might have forgotten but that wasn’t completely my fault, I just lost track of time.”

“Yeah whatever.” 

Jimin went to hold open the door for you but you beat him to it, opening it for yourself and slamming it in his face. He held back the urge to leave right there. A bet needed to be completed. He followed you inside trying to strike a conversation with you, trying to get just a crack of a smile.

“So Y/n, how’s your day?” Jimin asked, giving you a sweet smile that would have anyone swooning but it had no effect on you. 

“It would be good if the one who asked me out on a date came on time.” You didn’t look at him, instead you were staring intently at the menu. 

Jimin bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something he would regret, giving you a tight lipped smile. “I’m sure your date regrets being late.” ‘And asking you out in the first place’ Jimin thought the last part but didn’t say out loud.

“Doubt it.” You shrugged. 

Jimin knew what you were doing. You were specifically trying to provoke him, there was no way that he would ask you out on a date voluntarily. You were trying to gouge out any secrets he was hiding. His job, obviously, was to try and not let you find out those secrets. There was no way you were going to cooperate if he told you about the bet. 

The two of you knew each other since you were both babies, your mothers knew each other and would always coo at ‘how cute these two will look together.’ Unfortunately for them though, since you were both young the two of you had some sort of competition going on. Didn't matter if it was who was smarter, who was faster or who could fit the most grapes in their mouth, the both of you were always competing. 

As you both grew older the bickering turned into bullying on his part. In truth, you actually didn't know what started this long feud, all you remembered was one day when you were five an annoying boy yanked your hair so hard that a few strands had come out. Annoying boy turned out to be Park Jimin and the two of you haven’t stopped arguing since. 

“What flavour are you getting?” Jimin peered over your shoulder. He looked at you expectedly. “I’ve already chosen mine, so it’s just up to you and I’ll pay.” He holds his wallet out. 

“Vanilla.” You said plainly.

“What?!” 

You turn to face Jimin, frowning. “What’s wrong with vanilla?”

He makes a face. “Y/n, it’s so boring, like you no doubt.” The last part had slipped out accidentally and he regretted it as soon as it left his mouth. That was it. You were going to scream at him and he would lose the bet.

Instead, you ignored his comment fixing your gaze back onto the menu. “What do you think I should get then? I’ll give you the choice, assuming you don’t pick a disgusting flavour like mint chocolate chip, I’ll be fine.” 

Sure, it was a stupid decision giving Jimin the power to pick what you were going to eat, but what could go wrong? Worst case scenario, you didn't like the flavour and he would be forced to go get a new one, which would cost him more money. It’s a win win. 

“You’re giving me the freedom to pick what flavour you’re having?” Jimin asked, making sure he didn't misunderstand your statement. You simply nodded, shrugging nonchalantly. 

“Yep” you replied when he stared at you for a while longer, popping the p.

Jimin smirked. “I’ll get you the best flavour to ever exist then.”

You raised an eyebrow at his statement, “Oh?”

“Yeah, mint chocolate~” 

You stared at him in disgust, scowling as you said, “Dude I just said that flavour is disgusting. Made by the devil himself.”

Jimin tapped his chin, as if he had no clue about you were saying, “Did you really? Can’t recall anything like that. Hmm.”

“Park Jimin, I swear to god if you get me that flavour I will rip your eyeballs out and shove them up your ass.”

“So you wanna touch my ass now?” He grinned smugly. You felt your cheeks heat up as you spluttered, desperately searching for a comeback.

“Just- just get me whatever you’re having. Unless it’s chocolate mint, then get out of my sight right now.” 

“Don't worry, I hate the flavour as much as you do. So, two birthday cakes coming right up.” You try to find ‘birthday cake’ on the menu. 

“Dude, the thing looks like a unicorn just threw up on it.” 

Jimin shoots you a glare. “Don’t disrespect the superior flavour bestowed upon us by the ice cream Gods.” You gape at him open-mouthed. Ice cream Gods?! The guy was insane. You were on a date with a guy who was insane. Rest in pepperoni to you.

“You’re insane,” You shake your head. “I’ll be waiting over there. Be quick.” You point to a table in the corner. 

“Yes ma’am” Jimin saluted before going to order at the counter. You shake your head. You’d known Jimin of most of your life and he’d always been silly and annoying. 

Some reason you knew a lot about him. You blamed it on your parents making you spend too much time with each other when you were younger. Also you needed to know every little thing about your mortal enemy, wasn’t that what mortal enemies did? You had to be prepared for anything and keep track of them at all times!

“Got your ice cream.” Jimin placed the cup in front of you as you stared at it with distaste. You’d never really had ice cream often but when you did you always went for the plain vanilla. It was simple, no need for toppings or colourful flavours. You weren’t one to take risks. 

“What monstrosity did you get for me, Park?” 

“Oh stop being a baby, it’s just strawberry with some syrup on it.” Jimin answered while he rolled his eyes, lips tugged up into a small smile. Eyes twinkling with adoration as he looked at you. 

“I’m not eating it.”

“Oh yes you are. Here comes the airplane!” Jimin started, taking a spoonful of the ice cream and moving it towards your face as if talking to a child. 

“I’m not a kid. I’m not ha-” Jimin shoves the spoon inside your mouth when you open it to retaliate, his lips lifted into a sly smile. You snatch the spoon off him while glaring at him and start feeding yourself. “Don’t patronise me, you jerk.” You grumbled.

Jimin almost cooed out loud at your pout but he barely controlled himself. Since when were you this cute? He watched as you ate.

“Is it good?” 

“...yes” You reluctantly answered, still pouting.

Jimin smiled, leaning back on his chair as he pat himself on his shoulder. “Another job done well by yours truly.”

You rolled your eyes. Then you noticed that Jimin’s ice cream looked slightly different to yours. It wouldn’t hurt to ask for a bite. Would it?

“What’s on yours?” Jimin looked up, the tiny spoon still in his mouth. “What’s on your ice cream?”

“Just extra sprinkles and chocolate sauce, nothing too special.” He shrugged, continuing to devour his dessert. You stare at your cup and then at his. Something must have been possessing you because before you knew it you were leaning over and digging your spoon into his cup.

“Hey, you can’t just do that!”

“Pretty sure I just did.” You popped the spoon into your mouth, savouring the taste. “You know you really weren’t kidding when you said this was good. For once, you did something right, congrats dude.” 

Jimin would have made a snarky comment but the look of pure ecstasy on your face stopped him. Even though he knew you for most of his life, there were parts you kept hidden. He knew you didn’t get out much, constantly studying was the only thing you seemed to do. A nice feeling bubbled inside of him. It was nice to know you were enjoying yourself, made him feel happy for some reason. 

You giggled, shoving more of the sweet dessert into your mouth. Too busy to notice that Jimin was staring at you. When you did, you gave him a look of confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“You got a little something here.” He pointed to the left side of his face, holding in the urge to laugh at your cute expression. “No here, no.” He leaned over brushing his thumb over the corner of your lips. He stared at you, had your eyes always been so pretty? You felt yourself grow red at the close proximity between you two, not knowing what to do. Jimin leaned away, - why did your heart sink at that? - and licked his thumb. “Love this flavour.”

You avert your eyes quickly, blush getting brighter. You should not have found that as hot as you did. Get yourself together Y/N! Park Jimin, enemy number one! Nothing he does is mildly attractive. Nothing. He is the devil reincarnated!

Suddenly your phone started ringing, shattering whatever moment you two had going on. You picked up the device and checked the caller ID. Why was Jungkook calling now? You gave Jimin a sheepish look.

“Hello? I’m out. No. What? How did you- Alright alright.” Jimin watched as you spoke on your phone. 

You sighed in annoyance, hanging up after a while and giving Jimin a sheepish smile, “I need to go. Jungkook somehow made the microwave catch on fire.” 

Jimin raised his eyebrows in shock, looking at you as if you had grown two more heads. “What? How is that even possible?”

“Not a clue but I gotta dip. Thank you for inviting me here today. I still think you’re up to something though but whatever.” You spoke, getting up from your seat and grabbing your small messenger bag that you brought along. 

Jimin stood up alongside you, the both of you walking out of the shop and stopping on the sidewalk. “Yeah… Thank you for coming here with me.”

You two stood there staring at each other, not wanting to leave just yet. 

“Well then! I’ll see you on Monday. Bye Jimin,” You announced after a while, quickly pressing a small kiss on his cheek before dashing away. 

Jimin stood there in shock, hands raising to touch where you kissed him. Why was his heart racing so fast and why did he feel so warm inside? 

“Huh.. maybe you’re not so bad Y/L/N” Jimin spoke up to himself before he too started his walk back home, mind filled with thoughts of you.

[heartsywritesthethings]

Tickling Plus Ultra 3

Part 1 Part 2

“My all time favorite hero here! Little green Deku!” Toga said, sliding up to the 1-A student with a terrifying grin across her face. Midoriya felt the blood drain from his face as he watched Toga look at him up and down as if he were a piece of meat. He struggled and squirmed against the grip of the many-armed nomu holding him steady. He could break free, he just needed to get at least 10% of his power into his arms and legs and then he could–

Toga’s manicured nails began dancing on the inside of his arms, just around his elbows. He hadn’t even known that he had been ticklish there, but her sharp nails sent ticklish messages up and down his arms. Midoriya’s face turned red from the effort it was taking to hold in the giggles. He was already struggling and Toga had only just started. This wasn’t good at all.

“Oh my! Maybe we should recruit a Tickle Villain! Your entire class would be screwed without their special hero.” Toga cooed, her fingers dancing down his arms and scratching lightly at his underarms.

“Don’t let her win, Deku! You’re strong enough to push past this!” Uraraka called out. She wanted to try and give her friend some kind of hope that they would get out of here.

“Oh, hush, or you’ll be next you little pink cutie. I haven’t quite decided which one of you guys I’ll be keeping as my pet yet.” Toga said. Though she would be lying if she said she didn’t want to take her all time favorite 1-A hero Deku. He was so cute right now, just struggling to hold in all of his giggles.

Deku was really struggling, wiggling wildly in the nomu’s grip. Even just the light feeling of her nails ever so lightly stroking under his arms was enough to drive him up a damn wall. 

“Aw, is the little hero ticklish?! What a cute little weakness for someone like you to have. I just wanna eat you up!” Toga said as she watched as Deku struggled and strained against the tickling. Toga licked her lips before she leaned in and began softly nibbling on Deku’s sensitive neck. As she did so, her wiggling fingers moved down to his ribs.

“Wahahihihihihit! Stahahahahap!” Deku giggled, squeezing his eyes shut. He attempted to lean back and away from both her teeth and her fingers, but this was the last straw. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

“Nyahahaha! Nohhoho! Plehehehehehease!” Deku giggled. 

“Those freckles on your face are just so cute when you laugh like this! You’re going to be such a fun little toy when I take you home. I’m gonna eat you up!” Toga continued, pulling away from Deku’s neck. “Now, let’s see what else can get you to laugh. I wanna hear you scream.”

~

Bakugo took a deep breath as he was suddenly decompressed out of the little ball hidden in Sako’s hat. He growled and turned back at the stupid villain that had kidnapped him, flames jumping out from his palms. He jumped forward, ready to strike, when someone held him back by his waist.

“Come on, sparks, we have more important things to talk about.” A deep voice said. The voice sent a shiver down his spine. He recognized that voice from when they had been abducted at their training camp with the Wildcats. Slowly, he looked up to see that same man in the long black coat.

Dabi.

Even the way this villain smiled was disturbing. The stitches holding his decaying skin together stretched as he grinned down at Bakugo.

“You know, elemental quirks like ours are extremely rare.” Dabi continued, pulling himself away from Bakugo. He let a little ball of blue flame dance in the palm of his left hand. He extinguished it and the room around them grew a little colder.

“Shut up! You guys have tried this bullshit before and I ain’t joining you!” Bakugo said, taking a step back and holding up his fists. Dabi just chuckled.

“We should grab that other one as well. I’ll send a few to grab Toga and that Allmight kid.” Shigaraki said in his raspy voice.

Deku.

Bakugo glared over at Shigaraki and considered briefly jumping and just punching that crusty smirk off of that stupid guy’s mouth. It was a comforting thought that he could probably get a good punch in, but the amount of high level villains in this one room was annoying to say the least. He couldn’t be the number one hero if these bastards killed him right here and now. He just had to trust that the others were out looking for him. 

~

“AAAAAAH!” Deku screamed in ticklish agony as Toga drilled her fingers into his hips and blew raspberries across his taut stomach. With how ticklish he already was and the extreme evilness of Toga was clearly apparent here. 

However, he did have to admit that this was a nice change from their usual methods. As much as he hated that Toga was the one tickling him, it was much better than being thrown around like a ragdoll. He was sure that Recovery Girl would greatly appreciate the break from mending his bones all of the time.

“Toga…What are you doing? It looks like fun! It looks like torture!” Twice said as he entered the room where Toga was holding the three kids hostage. She pulled her face away from Deku, using one hand to gently pinch up and down his sides. 

“I’m keeping our guests entertained.” Toga said, sticking out her tongue. “What? Do you want to join in the fun?”

“Hell yeah! No way!” Twice said, both nodding his head and shaking it at the same time. Kirishima absently wondered how that villain’s neck was feeling. 

“Then what the hell did you come in here for?” Toga huffed. 

Midoriya cackled in the background of their conversation. The absent minded pinches up and down his ribs felt like little shocks of electricity up and down his body. 

“We just got a message from Shigaraki. They have successfully delivered Bakugo to the crossroads. They said they’re coming back for the Allmight wannabe.” Twice said, holding out the phone with the message on it. Toga huffed and finally stopped tickling Deku to skip over to her companion.

“Oh, alright. I guess that I have to play with the others since I’ll have Deku all to myself when we get back to the base!” Toga said, sighing as the thought made her feel all warm inside. Finally, she would be able to have her own little hero toy. She bounced back over to the other two heroes. Deku was busy trying to get air back into his poor lungs. Tears of mirth slid down his cheeks and a wobbly smile still stuck to his face. He was far too tired to get any sort of percentage of strength back into his body. Maybe he could gain his strength back as Toga targeted the others.

“Your turn, pretty pink girl! I wonder where you’re ticklish~!” Toga laughed as she walked over to Uraraka. The gravity hero tensed up, glancing over to her poor tired friend. Sure, she wasn’t as ticklish as her green-haired friend, but this definitely wasn’t going to be fun. Toga seemed extremely talented in being a tickler which was terrifying. Deku looked at her, still panting. Something in his eyes gave her an inkling that he was planning something. He just needed time. She just had to hold out for as long as she possibly could for Deku to get his strength back. 

As the wiggling fingers descended upon her sides and ribs, she wondered how Bakugo and the others were doing against these opponents. 

~

“Is everyone ready?” Todoroki yelled across the dorm house. A resounding “yes” from all of the students came as a response.

“Hang on you guys. We’re coming.” Todoroki muttered to himself. He set his stance, ice already beginning to form around his right side. He stared at the Nomus in front of him, glaring at them with every fiber of his being. Momo was laying on the ground, her head propped up on some pillows and a blanket thrown over to cover her body. With how large the mattress was, she had to undress to get all of it out. There were also several snacks and granola bars laid next to her head as well for when she gathered the strength to eat them. Several of the other students stood beside him. Shoji held the mattress in his many arms, ready to push it out for Iida to land on it whenever Tsuyu tossed their class president off the roof. 

Not exactly the safest of plans. If Tsu got the toss with her tongue even slightly wrong, Iida could be seriously hurt. If that were to happen, they hopefully had Hagakure to slip in between the Nomus and get help with the help of her invisibility quirk. If she gets caught…their last hope was Jiro and Denki. 

“Class 1-A, let’s go!” Todoroki yelled.

“Plus!  Ultra!”

10/25

GA!babe

[lamiasluck]

An Eye for Art

Here’s my first non ego story! Set in a high end art auction, one piece differs from the rest. A classic haunted painting with a gruesome story, as well as many past buyers that returned it time and time again. It seems like a lost cause to sell, if not for a strange man with an eye for the spiritual.

@emptynarration @alvie-ashgrove @shy-marker-pliers @juju-on-that-yeet @m4delin @lildevyl @verse2wo @ferociousfangirlofmanyfandoms (sorry if you don’t wanna be tagged uwu)

-

The lively crowd travelled around the room with an eager attitude amongst all of them. All strangers, for the most part, but all united with the common interest of tonight’s gathering. A love for the arts. Or, more specifically, a love for buying things in an auction. Rich and pompous people throwing away their money and overindulging in fancy champagnes. Nothing more the dull hearts could need.

With numbered auction paddles in hand, the group bid on various works of art from all sorts of mediums. Many artists were getting their hefty dose of recognition from the rich connoisseurs. One spent half a decade carving a detailed statue of an angel and earned enough money to make a stone army. A painting, one of a detailed setting of cultures, was made by a man that almost missed the auction because he overslept. Truly, this was a game for anyone looking for their slice of fame.

All, but one, of the artists showed up to take credit for their hard work and revel in the praise. There was something for all walks of life on this particular night. The group setting it up got lucky with the pieces they could gather. Though, one of the pieces would be concerning to want.

As the night went on and the artworks got new owners, there was one piece left by the podium. An antique, by the looks of it, with beautiful, hand-carved framework and a setting of a valley, with women frolicking through a meadow. On the surface, it seemed lovely, however, the crowd exchanged wary glances amongst each other, like it was hideous. No artist taking credit for it, no one showing any interest. The auctioneer cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I know you must be tired of seeing this thing, folks, but it was recently donated back by the last buyer,” he explained. There was a tight smile on his face as he tried to lighten the mood. “How many does that make now? Two? Four? Maybe six, if you count the guy that could handle it for an hour…” he laughed lightly. Didn’t get many others chuckling with him.

Barely anyone wanted to look at the painting, let alone bid on it. Clearly, no one wanted it, by what the auctioneer saw. All those paddles stayed firmly to everyone’s laps. In a way, it looked like there were more statues for sale. A simple nod of the head could be interpreted as a bid, after all, if the auctioneer is that desperate. And he was. 

This painting had a story. Frequent attendees knew it too well by this point. The Valley Girls had a long history of buyers, ignorant or curious alike. Many could only handle the painting for about a week. An old piece with a background of murder and vengeance hiding behind that cheery setting of flowers and sunshine. The auctioneer let out a heavy sigh, shivering even standing near the damn thing. Those valley girls had small, but piercing eyes that seemed to follow whoever looked at them.

“I’ll be easy on everyone. Can I get, say, $50?” The auctioneer scanned the crowd for anything. “Going once…” The crowd stayed silent, which wasn’t surprising. “Twice…” Maybe this painting would be better off burned. It doesn’t matter if it’s made with rare oil paints, or that the frame was carved from the finest oak. Something like this shouldn’t exist.

“Oh, I’m sorry-!” a quiet voice spoke up, followed by a raised paddle to make the last second bid, Number 4, something no one had seen this entire night.

Everyone looked to see a young man standing behind the crowd. Short in height, so it was easy to miss him, but he dressed just as proper as everyone else here, in a suit jacket and turtleneck. He fidgeted with his glasses, looking down as everyone stared at him. 

“Sorry… I was thinking to myself.” This man kept his paddle raised. The only confident thing about him. 

“Are you sure, sir?” the auctioneer asked.

The man nodded. “Yes, that’s in my budget.” Everyone else looked shocked. Such a kind and shy man was about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

It simply wasn’t believable. “Do you know what this is?” Screw making a sale, the auctioneer was concerned. “The history?”

Another nod. “Yes… I’ve done my research,” the man replied, confused. “I know about all that… and a couple interesting facts!” He pointed to the corner of the painting. “Those red dots there aren’t more flowers, actually. It’s the blood… from the murder… um.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, that’s a bummer fact… ignore me.” He ducked his head again and let his fluffy, black hair hide his embarrassed face.

Well, at this point, couldn’t deny a bid. “You can put the paddle down now,” the auctioneer whispered and was met with another quiet apology. He got the crowd’s attention back to continue, albeit much quicker. “Do I hear 75? Going once, twice- sold! To the man that shares too much.”

Very hesitant applause followed. Everyone gave the man odd looks, before talking amongst themselves as they dispersed. The last piece had been sold and the night was coming to a close. Not necessarily leaving on a high note, but overall it was a fun night. The auctioneer guided people who purchased artwork to pay and find ways to carefully bring it home. The odd man stayed by the side lines to let everyone pass by. Better not draw any more attention, especially with the judgemental glances he was getting. 

Once everyone paid for their things and the artists began bidding their goodbyes with their pieces, the man went over to collect his painting. That auctioneer was still around, watching over things and keeping a curious eye for the haunted painting. Such a timid man bought the damn thing. He was small, not just height wise, but he carried a demeanour that didn’t want to be seen. Hands that constantly fidgeted with his glasses, shoulders slumped to make his posture tinier, nervous expressions. God, this man was going to die by whatever demons plagued the Valley Girls.

“Can I get your name, sir?” a receptionist asked.

“Xander,” his voice was still as quiet as ever, “Collins… Xander Collins. Sorry…” He gave a shy smile. “Should I spell it out or…?” “That’s alright, mister Collins,” she reassured. “I think I got it. Enjoy your painting, if you can.” 

It was cheap enough that Xander could pay for it with cash. Looked like she, and many others, were rushing the process to get it out of here as soon as possible. Still, it was packaged nicely and the perfect size for him to carry himself. Now to give everyone a peace of mind and be on his way. 

“Excuse me.”

Xander flinched, looking back and seeing the auctioneer heading towards him. He gulped. “Yes…?”

“Sorry, just wanted to ask a couple questions. It’s scratching at my mind, I suppose,” he chuckled awkwardly. “I’ve never seen someone know the backstory of this thing and buy it. You one of those ghost hunters?”

Ah yes, the classic question. Xander was used to it, but he still fidgeted under the other’s gaze. “I guess I collect art like this… it’s a hobby of mine,” he explained. “I’m an exorcist.”

The auctioneer hummed in curiosity. “Oh~ So you’re gonna kill the ghost! I get it.”

“No-! Never!” Xander sputtered, before clearing his throat and looking down. “Sorry… I just- I don’t hurt the ghosts. Sorry.”

“What? Then what are you doing with them? Playing patty cake?”

Xander shook his head, frowning slightly. “I help them pass on… peacefully. They’re stuck here and helpless.” In a way, the spirits were humans still, and he certainly didn’t want to treat another human with malice. Not with how gently he held the painting against his chest. 

“Oh, I see. Kinda.” The auctioneer furrowed his brows and looked at Xander with a puzzled expression. “Well, you have fun with that, then. No refunds.” He turned on his heels, walking away quickly. 

Xander breathed a sigh of relief as he’s finally left alone. The trip to his car was easy after that. He placed the painting in the passenger's seat, not crazy enough to buckle it in like a person, thankfully. Though, the idea did make him giggle. 

The air was tense with the painting beside him, making a shiver crawl down his spine. Still, he didn’t falter. He was as confident as ever compared to how he acted in front of the others. “I’m glad I finally found you, Mary Ann,” he hummed in content. “That place was scary…” He gripped the steering wheel tightly, before taking a deep breath. 

The painting obviously didn’t speak back, but Xander didn’t expect anything. “Everything will be okay… hopefully.” With his research, it should be fine. Doubt was always a tricky problem, though. “I’ll do my best…”

Some may say Xander had a dangerous hobby. The art pieces he collected had very real stories of people getting hurt or traumatized, after all. However, he had his precautions. Be respectful. Be patient. Be helpful. No running away screaming for him, not with a job to do. 

Not many would praise the strange boy hunting for ghosts to save, but it was an interesting hobby. Every time a spirit felt at ease and passed on in Xander’s presence, he took pride. Ghosts were simply unfortunate souls that got stuck in a confusing situation. So, he doesn’t mind going the extra mile for their sake, even if he could only make a dent in his effort. One art auction at a time.

[artificialqueens]

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 13 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n:guess who’s realised she never submitted this to AQ? it’s ya boi. if u haven’t been able to read this yet then here it is, and look out for the final chapter coming soon! thank u to everyone who’s ever sent this fic some love, it means the world to me!!

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

6th December 2020

Vanessa’s in the wine aisle of Marks and Spencers when she sees her again.

Her hair’s been dyed- she already knew that, she’s seen pictures of it on her Insta feed- and the demure tones of the honey-brown balayage are a contrast to the blonde ombré she’d had when they’d been together, but it suits her. She’s in sweatpants and a cropped jumper, because of course she is, and Vanessa recognises the matching pink set emblazoned with the Playboy logo from Missguided adverts on bus shelters. She’s wearing some form of chunky white trainers and Vanessa isn’t proud of the fact that she feels a little flame of satisfaction light up in her gut when she sees that they’re splattered with mud, contrasting with her clean outfit and perfect makeup.

Vanessa turns back to the green bottles in front of her, staring at them for so long and with such intensity that she thinks she might rip the fabric of reality in two. She consciously blocks out her peripheral vision so that all she can see is the label of one bottle of white which she reads over and over again. A light, dry white with citrus notes and lively green fruit flavours. Grown in the spectacular setting of the sun ripened vineyards of central Spain. Goes with fish, chicken and salads.

She doesn’t, in any way, shape or form, know how to play this situation, because this is the first time she’s seen Kameron in person since they decided to call it quits. One one hand she could just keep staring at the wine bottle, attempt to blend into the shelves via osmosis and completely avoid her ex, but on the other hand…Vanessa doesn’t really know what the other hand is, because she doesn’t know what a conversation between the two of them would look like. There’s a part of her that wants to find out.

And suddenly, with a cry that Vanessa recognises as hers, the decision is made for her.

“Vanjie?”

Slowly, timidly, Vanessa turns around to meet her eyes. Soft, brown eyes that Vanessa had once looked into and seen her whole world and future.

God, it’s fucking crazy how she used to be so in love with her and now she feels completely apathetic.

“Kam! Hey,” Vanessa smiles tightly, waving awkwardly with the hand she’s not holding her shopping basket with. “How are you?”

“I’m fine! Well, actually, not amazing. I tried to make this really fancy, complex coq au vin for dinner last night but I don’t know what the hell I did wrong because it tasted like fucking ass. So I’m here getting ingredients again because Mama didn’t raise a quitter. It’ll probably still taste like garbage though, you know what I’m like,” Kameron reels off, which makes Vanessa smile in spite of herself. Kam was never the best at cooking and it was usually Vanessa who made the dinners when they were together, but there were still a couple of times when she’d tried at something and had failed spectacularly. Kameron seems to pick up on what she’d said as a little look of discomfort flashes in her eyes before she follows her sentence up with, “How’re you? God, it’s been ages.”

“It has,” Vanessa shrugged a little. So much has changed since they’ve last spoken that Vanessa isn’t really sure where to start. “I’m good. Things are pretty great, really. Obviously had a good run on the show for my first year competing, so hopefully I’ll get a partner next year too an’ win it next time.”

“I know, you did so well! I was really shocked you didn’t make the semis at least,” Kameron frowns, and the flattery does admittedly soften Vanessa up a little. Kameron’s face lights up as she adds, “God, your girl was so amazing though too! Brooke Lynn Hytes, right? She was super talented. Now I know how good a dancer she is I can’t help but feel like she’s sort of wasted as a presenter.”

“Yeah, she’s incredible,” Vanessa nods emphatically, unable to help the heat she feels spreading to her cheeks whenever she gets to talk about Brooke with somebody. Kameron’s expression changes a little as she clocks Vanessa’s blush, and a cheeky glint appears in her eye. Vanessa frowns. “Hey. Behave.”

“I didn’t say a word!” Kameron laughs, and as she trails off there’s a smile on her face that’s affectionate and helps Vanessa warm up to her ex even more. “Listen, what’re your plans? I’d honestly love to catch up. It’s been too long.”

Vanessa tilts her head in thought. The conversation isn’t going too badly, and her only plans are going round to Brooke’s later on to watch the semi-final results and have dinner (hence the reason she’s gone to M&S to get wine and not the Tesco Metro round the corner from her). So Vanessa surprises herself when she shrugs, giving Kameron a little nod. “Okay, yeah. Lemme get this wine and then we can get coffee.”

The way Kameron’s face lights up makes Vanessa think that her decision was the correct one.

They’re sat at a little table at the window of a nondescript coffee shop roughly ten minutes later, Kameron stirring the hell out of a vanilla latte that’s sat in front of her and creating a tiny whirlpool in the coffee that puts Vanessa in mind of a Pirates of the Carribean movie. Kameron’s talking about the flat she’s in just now- she bought it after she rented for a while when she moved out of Vanessa’s place- and how furniture is so expensive.

“I mean I could just go to IKEA and just furnish the entire thing for, like, two grand, but I actually want some really nice stuff, you know? Like it’s a big girl professional flat, not a uni rental,” she screws her face up as she finally takes a sip. Vanessa bristles a little opposite her- she knows Kam doesn’t mean it, but Vanessa wants to remind her that most of her furniture is from IKEA, because they’d gone and bought it all together when they first moved in. Kameron doesn’t seem affected, though, and keeps talking. “What about you? You still living out at Finsbury Park?”

Vanessa nods. “I’m still in the same flat, I never moved.”

A look of shock passes over Kameron’s face and Vanessa can read her like a book- the fact she’s still in that flat where they made so many memories together is obviously surprising. Vanessa can’t help but laugh. “Kameron, chill. You don’t roam the fuckin’ halls like a ghost, I don’t burst into tears whenever I go into a room. It’s a decent flat at a decent price, I wanted to keep it.”

“Right. Sorry. Ego check,” Kameron smiles sheepishly, and Vanessa feels bad for poking fun at her. Kameron perks up after a second, laughs a little. “I like how you said ‘halls’ plural. Like it’s a stately home and not a fucking matchbox with an intercom system.”

Vanessa’s taking a sip of her own hot chocolate and she almost chokes on it in a laugh, Kameron howling and slapping the table in response. Vanessa’s forgotten that Kam used to make her laugh, still can. She always used to see it like some sort of secret privilege she had access to, the quiet girl’s funny side rare and only popping out on special occasions. That hasn’t changed over the years.

“How’s work, anyway?” Vanessa asks her as she composes herself. Kameron shrugs easily.

“Pretty good. I did a Dua Lipa music video the other week, that should be coming out in a month or so.”

“Is she actually as bad a dancer as that video made her out to be?”

Kameron smirks. “She had a shit choreographer; she’s actually alright. Not pop girl standard, but you know. My agent’s trying to get me on the Blackpink tour next, so I should hear back from that soon.”

Vanessa’s glad that work hasn’t dried up for Kameron- the backing dancer industry is treating her well.

“Anyway,” Kameron bats her lashes, looking at Vanessa coyly from behind her glass. “Tell me more about this dance partner of yours, miss.”

Vanessa feels herself blush, a bashful laugh escaping her lips before she can stop it. It’s weird- after they first broke up Vanessa always used to think she’d love the chance to rub her ex’s face in a new relationship, but it feels ever so slightly odd now she’s actually about to talk about Brooke in front of her. “Honestly, we’re just seeing each other and keeping things casual. Y’know, while the series is still goin’. We’re not even official or public.”

“Yet,” Kameron smiles cheekily at her, and Vanessa can’t suppress the smile she returns to her.

“Okay, yet. But it’s going really well. I really like her. She’s sweet, an’ she’s caring, an’ she’s the best listener.”

“And she won’t be a fucking idiot and cheat on you.”

“No, I don’t think she will,” Vanessa shrugs, the fact that Kameron’s brought the situation up casting a small grey cloud over the conversation. It’s clunky and awkward, a puzzle piece jammed in a place it shouldn’t be. It’s been brought up now though, so Vanessa grimaces and adds, “But then I never thought you would, either.”

Kameron’s face screws up in regret, and before Vanessa knows it she’s rested a hand on top of hers and is giving her a tentative smile. “I know I said it about twenty million times when we were together but I’m honestly so sorry, Vanessa. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Kam, you gotta stop beatin’ yourself up about it,” Vanessa cuts in and says swiftly. Her own words shock her; they’ve come from virtually nowhere, and she’s amazed at the raw sympathy she’s just shown her. “You were drunk, it was a kiss. Strictly is…it’s a weird show. You saw him more hours in the day than you saw me. Kisses between partners happen all the time, it just…sucks that it happened between you two.”

Kameron nods quietly, and Vanessa puts her other hand on top of hers. “I forgive you. Give yourself a break.”

Kameron squeezes her hand, shoots her a soft smile. “Thanks, Vanjie.”

They let go of each other’s hands and each take a sip of their own drink, the silence between them somewhat symbolic like someone wiping words off a whiteboard. Vanessa watches as Kameron swallows a gulp of her coffee and grins. “Hey, do me a solid and put in a good word with Asia O’Hara for me, okay? I really want to slide into her DMs but I need some context first.”

“Your face can be the context, fuckin’ look in a mirror,” Vanessa snorts, and the two of them laugh together.

It’s nice. This huge, big, massive event she’s built up in her head for all these months is happening- she’s bumped into Kameron and she’s speaking to her. She doesn’t need to build it up anymore, or wonder about how it would play out because she’s living it, it’s playing out and she never has to see Kameron for the first time since they broke up ever again. A wall crumbles down in her mind without warning and once the dust settles she realises that she feels somewhat lighter.

Vanessa has been carrying this burden around with her for all this time without even having known it.

The pair of them eventually finish up- hug goodbye outside the coffee shop and tell each other how nice this all had been and then go their separate ways. They don’t promise to keep in touch, but Vanessa knows they’ll probably like each others’ Instagram posts or occasionally tweet each other support or that kind of thing now. Little things that remind them they’re still on good terms.

As Vanessa heads to the tube, her mind drifts to Brooke and how excited she is to see her. The week has been long and Brooke’s been busy, but true to her word she’s messaged Vanessa whenever she’s had a spare moment, updating her on her day and asking her about her own. On Tuesday she’d invited Vanessa round to her flat on Sunday night as she has a day off on Monday and they can spend the night together. She’s not just abandoned her or left her hanging, and if there’s about to be a gap between her messages she always pre-warns her. Brooke’s treating her well. Almost like a girlfriend. Exactly like a girlfriend.

Vanessa still doesn’t know what they really are. She’s so far told herself that that’s alright, but now they’re out of the competition that answer isn’t really satisfying her any more. She wants to call Brooke hers, she wants to be with her properly. As Brooke’s apartment building comes into view, Vanessa wonders if she’ll bring it up tonight.

As she buzzes Brooke’s intercom, though, Brooke’s tone throws everything into a tailspin.

“Hello?”

Vanessa frowns. Brooke sounds ever-so-slightly icy and fed up. She wonders if she’s imagined it. “Uh, hey! It’s Vanessa.”

“Hey. Come up.”

As the door buzzes open and Vanessa steps into the building, she waves away the thoughts in her head. She’s probably overthinking things, and as she steps into the elevator and lets herself be carried up to Brooke’s 12th floor apartment Vanessa tries to calm her nerves. It’s the first time she’s been to Brooke’s flat- in fact it’s the first time either of them have been at either of their flats- so she’s a little anxious. It’s another layer of the relationship they’re adding on, and the thought of things getting a little more serious makes Vanessa’s heart flutter.

So her head is thrown into a tailspin when the elevator doors open onto a landing and she’s met with three doors- two closed, and the other (Brooke’s, a little gold 111 set into the smooth grey exterior) is ever so slightly ajar. Vanessa narrows her eyes, tentatively stepping out of the lift, crossing the hall, and pushing the door open a little.

“Brooke Lynn?”

Brooke’s voice replies, still something to it that Vanessa can’t quite work out. “I’m in here.”

Frowning, Vanessa steps through the doorway and into Brooke’s flat. The whole situation is so strange that she can barely take in everything she sees; a long, narrow hallway lined with high heels that leads down to what looks like a sunken living room with a cream sofa and a floor-to-ceiling view of London. There’s a room to the right halfway down the hall, though, and it seems to be where Brooke’s voice came from, so Vanessa closes the front door and hears the click of the lock behind her as she follows it. Maybe she’s in the middle of something. Maybe she’s just busy and she wants Vanessa’s company while she finishes whatever it is she’s doing.

And then, as Vanessa turns into the room, the situation becomes immediately apparent.

Brooke’s bedroom is dark- the blinds are drawn and the only light comes from a few candles that are sitting on the tidy grey dressing-table under the window and the soft pink salt lamp that sits on the bedside table. The large bed pushed up against the wall takes up most of the room, and its sheets are white and perfectly ironed and crease-free.

They serve as a perfect backdrop to the sight that’s currently greeting Vanessa- Brooke, in a matching set of black Calvin Klein underwear, curled up against the pillows and scrolling her phone. The dark material makes Brooke’s pale skin pop, and the sight of her toned thighs and stomach forces Vanessa to squeeze her thighs together in spite of herself. Brooke looks up as she enters the room and smiles smugly, clearly happy to get the reaction Vanessa’s given her.

“Hey, sweetie,” she says, her voice light and sing-song and making the entire situation worse because the fact she’s so perfectly put-together while Vanessa is slowly becoming a melting, gooey mess in front of her is, for some reason, only making her want to rip Brooke’s clothes off even more than she already does. “Come sit.”

She gently pats the space on the bed next to her and Vanessa almost knocks herself out kicking her trainers off and letting her jacket fall to the floor as she scrambles up onto the bed. She feels herself blush as Brooke gives a soft laugh (presumably in response to just how eager she is) then decides she doesn’t really care how she’s coming across as Brooke leans in and closes the gap between them, kisses her with soft Chapstick lips that Vanessa feels as if she’s addicted to. Vanessa expects the kiss to be more than it is- flames of seductive fire that make one thing lead to another all too quickly- but instead it feels as if Brooke is deliberately holding back, teasing her a little. It’s not helping Vanessa’s desperation at all, and just as she brings a hand up to rest on Brooke’s hip, Brooke breaks the kiss.

“So,” Brooke begins cryptically, as she reaches for her phone where she’d discarded it against the sheets. “I was just scrolling Instagram, you know, as you do. And, uh, I felt a little bit confused.”

Vanessa frowns in tandem with Brooke, who finally appears to reach the post she’s been looking for. Brooke’s voice keeps its light tone as she continues. “Because apparently, according to these photos…it looks like you had a cute little reunion date with your ex today?”

Vanessa’s heart drops as Brooke turns her phone to show her the long-lens photograph posted by The Sun’s Instagram account. It’s her and Kameron at the coffee shop window, taken at the exact moment that Kameron had reached out and taken her hand and Vanessa had shot her a forgiving smile and taken hers in return, probably the most affection they’ve shown each other in a whole year.

But Jesus Christ, has it been taken out of context and then some.

She’s panicking, and she can feel her mouth opening and closing rapidly as she attempts to explain herself. The one saving grace about the whole situation is that Brooke appears to be…calm? Relaxed? She’s not flown off the handle, anyway, which Vanessa wouldn’t exactly have expected, and there’s also the fact she’s in a matching underwear set so clearly can’t be that mad at her. So Vanessa finally finds her voice, tells Brooke everything- how she’d only bumped into Kameron in the shop, and how it was just a coffee and nothing more, and how she’d actually finally received closure for everything that had happened between the two of them.

As she speaks, part of Vanessa wants to bring up the fact that she and Brooke aren’t even together together, so why Brooke’s so pressed about all of this Vanessa doesn’t know.

Unless Brooke wants them to be more than what they already are. And Vanessa has fucked it.

Shit.

“It’s just all a massive misunderstandin’, honestly,” Vanessa finishes, and she’s relaxing a little more now that Brooke’s body language is warmer. “I maybe should’ve texted you but I was gonna tell you tonight anyway, I promise. I wouldn’t…I just wouldn’t mess you about like that, Brooke.”

Brooke slowly lets a bashful smile creep across her face as she nods softly. “Okay.”

And, just because she can, Vanessa pulls her in for another kiss. This time there’s a little more heat to it which makes Vanessa’s stomach flutter in anticipation, but she still feels as if Brooke’s holding back. It’s only then that Vanessa remembers how Brooke had told her she liked being in control, how much Brooke got off on hearing her beg for what she wanted the first time they’d slept together, and it all falls into place.

Oh.

Before Vanessa can say anything, Brooke’s trailing her hand from its position cupping Vanessa’s jaw down her body to rest on her waist, and Vanessa’s mouth goes ever-so-slightly dry. Brooke’s face is still close as she speaks again. “See I thought that would be the case, because I know you’d never do anything to hurt me.”

Vanessa responds by mirroring Brooke’s touches, resting her own hand against her exposed thigh and delighting as she watches something darken behind Brooke’s eyes. Her tone changes a little as she continues. “But it did get me thinking…what if you did forget how good you had it one day?”

“Won’t happen,” Vanessa shakes her head, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth as Brooke pushes up the hem of her oversized white t-shirt, rests the palm of her hand against the bare skin at her waist. Vanessa squeezes her legs together again and she watches as Brooke flicks her gaze down, suppresses a smirk badly.

“It won’t?” Brooke pouts mockingly, and Vanessa loves it. “Well, just in case…I thought I’d show you what you’d miss if you ever did think you could do better than me.”

“Fuck,” Vanessa verbalises what she’s thinking in a hiss, as Brooke tugs at the bottom of her top and removes it quickly without Vanessa having to do anything other than raise her hands above her head.

Brooke dips her down so that her head’s resting against the pillows and presses kisses to Vanessa’s jaw, neck, collarbone, right down to the lace of her bra. Vanessa’s pulse is racing and she finds herself already spreading her legs, unable to help the way she needs Brooke to touch her.

“God, you’re so needy,” Brooke tuts disapprovingly into her skin, briefly reaching her hands under Vanessa’s back in an attempt to unhook her bra. Vanessa’s stomach tenses as she lifts herself off the mattress to help her, and soon the bra that she spent entirely too long picking out this morning is thrown halfway across the room onto the dark wood of Brooke’s bedroom floor.

“Says the girl that’s trying to get my boobs out in the first two minutes of foreplay- ah!” Vanessa cuts herself off as Brooke sucks a hickey into her collarbone. If she wanted to get Vanessa to shut up she’s succeeded, and so Vanessa instead focuses her attention on trailing her nails up and down Brooke’s back, delighting in the way the other girl shivers gently at the contact.

Brooke brings her lips up to meet Vanessa’s and she licks gently into her mouth as she strokes her thumb over one of her nipples, the contact making Vanessa flinch against the bed in the best kind of way. Vanessa trails a hand up Brooke’s back and pushes her fingers into her hair, and when Brooke breaks away her stomach flips at the way it’s all messed up and imperfect. Paired with Brooke’s blown pupils and plush lips, it’s a sight that makes Vanessa buck gently into the air almost without realising.

“Jesus. It really doesn’t take much, does it?” Brooke laughs gently as she loops a finger under the waistband of her leggings, and Vanessa shakes her head and pouts self-indulgently.

“Brooke…” she begins, then trails off when she doesn’t actually realise what she wants to say. She’s very happy to let her be in charge if this is what happens as a result, and when Brooke moves to straddle her it renders her twice as speechless as she was before.

“If this is you now, I’m almost scared for how you’re going to react when you see what I’m planning on doing to you,” Brooke says softly, the fake concern to her voice sending shockwaves rippling through Vanessa’s body. Before she can respond Vanessa gasps as Brooke pulls off her leggings, leaving her in the red thong she’d agonised over and the white ankle socks she’d put entirely less thought into. Brooke is left kneeling between Vanessa’s spread legs; dark heavy-lidded eyes, mouth hanging ever-so-slightly open. When she speaks, her voice is ragged.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” she says, and maybe it’s the simplicity of it but Brooke’s words make Vanessa feel completely naked despite what she’s still wearing.

“You’re beautiful,” Vanessa breathes out in an instant reply.

Brooke pouts and trails one of her short acrylics up Vanessa’s inner thigh, ripping a whine from her. “You sure Kameron isn’t more beautiful?”

“Jesus,” Vanessa throws her head back against the pillow and lets out a breathy laugh. “I didn’t have you down as the jealous type at all.”

When she tilts her head up Brooke’s got an unimpressed eyebrow raised at her. “You’re already in trouble, this isn’t helping your case.”

Vanessa can’t resist the urge to tease her and so she sticks her tongue out in response. “Oh what, you gonna punish me? You gonna tie me to the bed an’ spank me?”

Brooke’s gaze darkens. There’s a pause as she crawls up the bed, hovers over Vanessa with her face close. Vanessa keeps her own eyes sparkling as she stays still, challenging her to see if she’ll crack even though she wants to grab her jaw and kiss her with the same intensity they’d shown each other earlier.

“Brooke Lynn’s jeal-ous,” she sing-songs right in her face, and when Brooke pulls back she’s wearing a dark expression. Vanessa brings her hands up to rest on Brooke’s waist, traces the outline of her waistband.

And when Brooke leans over to the top drawer of her bedside table, Vanessa’s eyes widen as she instantly realises what she means.

She produces a wireless pink wand vibrator, and Vanessa’s body hotwires.

“Fuck.”

“Mm-hm,” Brooke murmurs, lips quirking in a smile. “You’re going to get punished for the stunt you decided to pull today.”

“Oh no, I hate orgasms! What a terrible punishment,” Vanessa smiles back at her, sarcastic and indulgent.

“Who says you’re going to be allowed to have any?” Brooke frowns.

Vanessa instantly realises her mistake.

“Wait…but-”

“Yeah. I’d suggest you better start being extra nice to me,” Brooke interrupts her, resting the wand down on the bed beside one of Vanessa’s thighs and hooking her fingers around the waistband of her underwear to tug it off. While this is happening Vanessa shuffles against the sheets in anticipation, something curling tightly in the pit of her stomach and the throbbing between her legs becoming impossible to ignore. She wants so badly to be touched, wants Brooke to feel how wet she is and for her eyes to go all wide when she realises she’s the one that’s got her this worked up, but instead of her fingers or her tongue she’s using that stupid fucking vibrator and she’s not even going to be allowed to come.

Fuck.

“Please, Brooke Lynn,” Vanessa pouts, letting a hand trail up Brooke’s thigh from where she’s positioned herself between her legs.

Brooke gives a short laugh. “You think you’re begging me now, wait until I get started.”

“Promise I’ll be good for you,” Vanessa insists, the end of her sentence almost getting cut off with a gasp as Brooke presses the wand against her. It’s not even switched on yet but it’s something that Vanessa can grind against, and she bucks her hips gently against the head.  

“If you want me to turn it on you better keep those hips still,” Brooke says quickly, and Vanessa groans in resignation, lies still like she’s been asked.

She’s rewarded with a soft hum and a gentle buzz against her slit, and she can’t help the moan of satisfaction she gives in response as Brooke holds the wand there for a few moments, letting Vanessa get used to it. After so much build-up it feels like heaven, and the feeling leaves Vanessa wondering how long she’s going to last.

Brooke starts to swipe the wand up and down against her; lazy, slow motions that leave Vanessa squirming against the mattress every time she feels the vibrations brush against her clit. It’s not helping that Vanessa can see Brooke’s own chest rising and falling increasingly quickly, her pink, flushed cheeks, her hair all unkempt from Vanessa running her fingers through it.

“This good, babe?” Brooke asks, her tone ragged and her voice hoarse. When she snaps her gaze up to meet Vanessa’s eyes her pupils are blown and black and it sends an arrow through Vanessa’s heart that instantly shatters it as if it’s a piñata full of confetti.

“Mm,” is all Vanessa can manage, along with a rapid nod against the pillow.

“Not quite hearing a yes or a no there,” Brooke raises an eyebrow. “Maybe I should just turn it off-”

“No, no, no, no! It’s good, it’s good, fuck, yes, please don’t stop,” Vanessa instantly reels off as if it’s a frantic prayer. Brooke’s probably the closest thing to religion she’s experienced in months.

“You sure? You sure Kameron wouldn’t do it better?” Brooke says teasingly, wiggling the vibrator against her clit as if to make a point and sending Vanessa into the stratosphere.

“No, I promise, I promise, babe, please, please, please,” she whines. She can hear herself pleading and she hopes it’ll help Brooke come round to the idea of letting her orgasm because if Brooke ups the setting on her wand then there’s no way she’s going to be able to exercise any form of restraint.

Brooke switches back to slowly sliding the vibrator against her, and Vanessa can feel Brooke’s grip on her thigh tighten.

“Fuck, I can see how wet you are from here.”

Vanessa feels herself throb, her body responding to Brooke’s words before she can. She fists both her her hands into the sheets, can’t see her knuckles but knows they’ve gone white. “You wanna taste me so bad.”

“So much,” Brooke pouts, nodding slowly. “But…you need to lie there and take your punishment.”

“Fuck. I miss when you were too shy to talk during sex,” Vanessa huffs, grumpy, and she’s immediately stopped from saying any more as the wand buzzes that little bit more intensely against her. Brooke brings it back up to her clit, rubs it in slow, small circles that drive Vanessa wild and render her almost incapable of thought.

“Sounds like you’re the one who can’t talk during sex,” Brooke deadpans, squeezing Vanessa’s thigh to punctuate her point.

She can feel how slick the wand is against her, only illustrating how wet she is. The hum of the vibrator and the gasps Vanessa can hear herself making are heightening her senses; it’s too much and not enough all at once. Both Brooke’s teasing and the sensation of the wand vibrating against her is making Vanessa’s inevitable orgasm build inside her, and it’s only a matter of time before she hits boiling point.

“Brooke- ah!- please…don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last…”

“Oh, no way,” Brooke says darkly, and in an instant the vibrator is off and Vanessa’s back is arching off the bed in frustration as she cries out in disappointment. “You don’t get to come yet, babe, not after the sass you just gave me.”

Vanessa instantly regrets opening her stupid mouth and teasing Brooke more than anything she’s ever regretted before in her life. She whines, reaches her hips up into the air as if she’s going to generate friction from nowhere, and Brooke’s pouting in mock-sympathy. Vanessa knows she could just spring up from her position against the bed, grab Brooke’s face and kiss her and pin her down and take the control back, but there’s part of her that knows how unbelievably satisfying it’s going to be when she does get to come if she’s this worked up already.

Brooke’s watching her with heavy-lidded eyes as she traces up her leg then fans her fingers out over her inner thigh and rubs her thumb against her clit. The contact makes Vanessa’s eyes almost roll into the back of her head; the wand has heightened her sensitivity and she’s by now so slick and wet from all of Brooke’s teasing that with every little rub of her thumb Vanessa can feel the fire between her thighs become completely out of control.

“God, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this to you every fucking day since Blackpool,” Brooke bites her lip, and Vanessa bucks against her thumb helplessly. “We’d be having to rehearse but all I wanted to do was just to make you beg for it again and again, fuck.”

“Should’ve told me.”

“Mm. I almost texted you about it. One of the nights I was lying in bed fucking myself with my fingers and remembering how good yours felt…remembering how you felt like fucking heaven underneath me…I could’ve sent you so many pictures that night…”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ you need to stop talking or I’m gonna come,” Vanessa squeezes her eyes shut. Brooke’s still teasing her clit and Vanessa knows she’s deliberately applying just not quite enough pressure. She’s so on edge and it feels like the most incredible form of torture.

“You want the wand back, sweetie?”

“Please, fuck, yes,” Vanessa begs, almost wanting to sob. When Brooke’s thumb gets replaced by the vibrating head of the wand she feels lightheaded, lets out a cry that she instantly knows Brooke’s neighbours will hear but she doesn’t care. Brooke’s teasing her badly, holding the wand against her, taking it away for a second, then replacing it, and Vanessa feels so sorry for herself that she starts pleading with her.

“Keep it on me, please,” she gasps out, and when she looks up at Brooke she’s smiling at her wickedly.

“Like this?”

Brooke ups the intensity the moment she makes contact and Vanessa can practically feel herself give a little gush against the wand. Her breath is coming in shallow gasps now, and she’s only just registering the fact that Brooke’s got her hand that isn’t holding the wand down under the waistband of her own underwear, playing with herself. There’s a light sheen of sweat against her chest that’s making her glow like an angel and the way her chest is rising and falling is mirroring Vanessa’s.

Vanessa now realises why people yell out declarations of love right in the middle of their orgasm.

“Why don’t you tell me how much you like it?” Brooke murmurs. Vanessa can see her bucking against her fingers and the sight makes her press herself down against the wand, the way the vibrations roll over her clit in waves making her want to scream.

“So much…so fucking much…”

“Anyone else gonna fuck you like me?”

“No, baby, no-one else, just you, fuck, only you,” Vanessa whimpers. She looks up at Brooke and the sight of her eyes closed in ecstasy, grinding against her fingers and her nipples hard through the fabric of her bra is enough to tip Vanessa on a very gradual decline over the edge. “Fuck, can I come, please?”

“Yes, babe, you can come.”

When Vanessa feels her clit sieze up then pulse frantically against the vibrations of the wand, she shouts out into the bedroom, the pace of her fuck, fuck, fuck in sync with the waves of her orgasm flooding through her body. Brooke holds the wand against her until she’s sure she’s finished and Vanessa can only lie against the mattress, completely worn out and exhausted, as she watches Brooke take the wand and hold it between her own legs, the thin material of her underwear dark between her legs as Vanessa realises just how wet Brooke must be as well.

And even though Vanessa’s too worn out to help her out in the way she wants to, it doesn’t stop her from sliding a lazy hand up her thigh. She takes a couple of shallow breaths before pouting up at Brooke.

“Aww. Did watching me get you too worked up, baby?”

“Mm-hm,” Brooke hums in reply, running her tongue over her bottom lip as she squeezes her eyes shut. It gives her an idea.

“Not used my mouth on you yet. Bet you wish I was doin’ it now.”

“Fuck, Vanessa, keep talking.”

“You don’t get to boss me around any more, princess. Keep talking what?”

Brooke’s face contorts into a frown as she ruts against the wand, eyes still closed. “Keep talking please.”

“Good girl,” Vanessa purrs, and she almost feels as if she could go for round two as she hears the way Brooke gasps in delight at the praise. “You want me to tell you how much I want to put my tongue between your legs and taste you and watch you come apart under me?”

“Ah…”

“Maybe you don’t want that, though. Maybe you want to sit on my face instead. Ride my tongue and shut me up so I can’t talk back to you and drip all over my face all dirty while I just lie there and take it like a good girl.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Brooke hisses out. Vanessa’s surprising herself with what’s coming out of her mouth and how absolutely filthy it all is but she’s going with it because she knows Brooke’s close.

“Tell me how much you want it.”

“Fuck, want it so much.”

“You’re so close, aren’t you?”

“Vanessa…fuck, please…”

Vanessa regains enough strength to sit up and cup Brooke’s face with her hands, meeting her lips with her own and teasing her with a slow, deep kiss. Vanessa flicks her tongue inside her mouth and when she rubs it over Brooke’s she cries out against her lips, her moans almost-but-not-quite swallowed by Vanessa’s kiss as she comes.

Brooke breaks away as she falls against the mattress and Vanessa follows her, lying down beside her and gently switching the wand off. They lay there in silence, Brooke’s gasps and the buzzing in Vanessa’s ears the only things she can still focus on until Brooke reaches out a hand to curl around one of Vanessa’s. Vanessa throws a leg over Brooke, pulls her closer so that Vanessa can rest her head against her chest and feel her frantic heartbeat.

“Fuck me,” Brooke whispers breathlessly, and Vanessa lets out a chuckle.

“What, again? Thought you’d at least want a break first.”

“Shut up,” Brooke giggles. There’s a pause as she presses her lips to Vanessa’s head, mouths something Vanessa can’t hear or see. Then she mutters again, a little louder. “You’re so amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” Vanessa replies childishly, though the way Brooke’s chest judders against her in a laugh Vanessa assumes she doesn’t mind. She flinches a little as Brooke’s stomach gives a loud rumble. “Oh yeah. Forgot you were meant to be making dinner.”

“Hey, I have made dinner thank you very much! It’s in the slow cooker. Cuban beef and rice if that’s okay?” Brooke asks, and Vanessa doesn’t miss the little nervous tone in her voice. It’s adorable.

“Sure it is.”

Brooke lends Vanessa some pyjamas to shove on in lieu of the outfit she’d arrived in, and Vanessa’s heart swells a little at the implication that she’s going to be staying over. She’s not sure if she’ll try and breach the subject of what they are tonight- the evening is already so perfect and Vanessa doesn’t want to ruin anything, especially not when they’re curled up on the sofa with bowls of warm food in their laps and laughing guiltily at the way Jan is sobbing because she and Jackie have become the latest ones to leave the competition after a tense dance-off with Crystal and Gigi.  

“It’ll be a close final, though. Like that’s everyone been in the bottom now,” Vanessa contemplates, tilting her head in thought from her position at the other side of the sofa. Brooke nods, then snorts again.

“God. I feel for Jan, but she just has such a memeable crying face. Like Kim K,” Brooke snorts again, as some ridiculous BBC One gameshow that seems to be based around celebrities strapped into a wheel starts in the background.

“Jan’ll be fine. She’ll recover, she’s a big girl. She’s got Jackie anyway,” Vanessa shrugs. Brooke hums in response, and then there’s a palpable silence that fills the room, almost like Brooke is about to say something. Vanessa waits.

“So today got me thinking,” Brooke finally says, reaching out and curling her fingers around Vanessa’s. Her eyes are in her lap and she’s not meeting her gaze. Vanessa is, in every sense, on the edge of her seat.

“Uh-huh?”

“When I saw those pictures of you and Kameron,” Brooke continues, the reminder making Vanessa’s heart drop. “I got so envious…and then I thought, well…what’s the only way I can make sure Vanessa’s just mine?”

Brooke finally looks at her, and every fibre of Vanessa’s being lifts in hope. “So, uh, I was wondering…if you would want to be my girlfriend.”

And when Vanessa blinks, she can see fireworks explode behind her eyes. She’s unable to help the huge, dumb smile that breaks out on her face as she blushes shyly, gives a nod.

“‘Course I would, baby.”

The smile that bursts onto Brooke’s face mirrors her own, and Vanessa can’t help but lean in and pepper Brooke’s face with kisses, wrap her arms around her in a cuddle.

“Officially yours, now,” Vanessa smiles excitedly, as she rests her head against Brooke’s chest. She can’t see Brooke’s face, but she knows she’s smiling too.

And suddenly, a little sentence appears in Vanessa’s head, three very small and simple words that she’s not thought about in a long time but just make sense in that moment. She looks up at Brooke, meets her gaze and feels her heart thump.

Maybe she can save that for another day.

[emospritelet]

Last Man Standing

So, you guys really wanted 14,000 words of pointless Golden Lace pron, right?  No?  Well, tough, you’re getting it anyway.

An AU of the Neverland verse, in which escort!Gold and Lacey try to bang each other senseless

AO3 link

x

Alistair Gold reflected that of all the things he could be doing that evening, walking to a hotel to meet someone who had paid for three hours of sex wasn’t high on his list of favourite activities.  He supposed he should be grateful for the work; his son Neal had two years of college left, and selling his body was the best way he knew to pay for that, but it was soul-destroying.  It also had the potential to be dangerous, although it had been months since he had been in a bad situation.  He had learned the hard way to recognise clients who took their pleasure from pain and humiliation.

The Arendelle Hotel was one that Gold had visited before.  It was a mid-price boutique establishment over twelve floors on one of Boston’s nicer back streets, and he looked it over as he drew to a halt, taking in the old-fashioned frontage with wrought-iron railings at the windows.  He had been waiting on the details of the client he was due to meet, and was surprised not to have received them; Tink usually sent them through at least an hour before the agreed time of his appointment.

He set down the black leather bag that carried the tools of his trade and dug out his phone, thumb flicking at the screen to call the agency.  It rang several times before being answered.

“Hello?”

A bright, cheerful voice chirped at him, and Gold blinked.

“Astrid?”

“Oh!” she squeaked.  “I meant to say ‘Good evening, Blue Star Escort Services’!  Please don’t tell Blue I screwed up again!”

“Where is Blue?” he asked.

“Networking,” she said.  “She had some sort of drinks party to go to.  She took Tink with her, so it’s - it’s just me tonight.  Sorry.”

Gold refrained from sighing with great difficulty.  Astrid was adorable, with a heart of gold, but somewhat on the ditzy side, and he wasn’t all that convinced of her computer skills, having overheard her conversations with Leroy, the handyman.  Of course, she could simply have been pretending not to know anything to let Leroy show off his own knowledge.  It was the worst kept secret at Blue Star that the two were in love with each other.  Gold decided to think positively.

“Right, I need you to send me the details of my client,” he said.  “It was all kind of last minute.  Tink left a message to turn up at Hotel Arendelle, but I don’t have a name or room number.”

“Oh no!”

“Well, I’m sure we can get to the bottom of it,” he said.  “Everything will be on the computer system under Danny Devine, okay?  I’m at the hotel now.”

“I remember Tink telling me about the bookings,” she said pensively.

“Yes, and they’ll be on the computer,” he said, figuring that repetition was his friend in this situation.  “I need the name and the room number.”

There was silence, and he shook his head.  He could hear her muttering in the background.

“Astrid,” said Gold patiently.  “The name?”

“Oh yes!”  There was a crackle of paper.  “I have it somewhere!”

The was an ominous clink, and a muffled “Oops!”

Gold pinched the bridge of his nose.  Hard.

“Okay, look, never mind about the name,” he said.  “What room number is it?”

She didn’t respond, and he raised his eyes to the sky.  “Astrid!”

There was a scrabbling noise, and she came on the phone again, sounding breathless.

“Yes!  Sorry, it’s just - just - I spilled my tea all over the computer, and - and there was kind of a mini-explosion, and now it’s - it’s not - working...”

Her voice trailed off lamely, and Gold sighed.

“Is there anything you can remember about this client?” he asked.  “I don’t want to have to knock on every hotel room door asking if anyone paid for sex, understand?”

“Oh, I think I remember that!” she said brightly.  “It was room 402, I’m sure of it!  I remember because that was the number of my first booking!”

“Well, that’s something, at least,” he said.

“Yeah, he was a Senator,” she said pensively.  “Not the nicest man, but he tipped well.  I remember he enjoyed spanking—”

“Yeah, I don’t think we need to go into that right now,” said Gold hastily. “You’re sure about 402?”

“Oh yes!”  She let out a squeak of alarm, and he shook his head.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine!” she said, in a too-cheerful voice.  “Well no, not fine, there’s - there’s a lot of smoke coming out of this thing...”

“Oh my God…”  Gold ran a hand over his face.  “Look - just get out of there!  Get a bloody fire extinguisher!  Not the water one!”

“Oh, I’m sure Leroy will be able to help me fix this,” she said, sounding confident.  “What about you?  Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’ll go and knock on 402,” he said.  “If there’s a problem, I’ll call back.”

“Okay!” she chirped.

He rang off, turning the phone to silent and shoving it into his pocket with a sigh of despair, then picked up his bag and trotted up the steps into the hotel lobby.  It was decorated in a modern style, the walls in shades of ice-blue, white and lilac, the staff in blue livery with silver buttons.  He walked through the lobby to the elevators, pressing the call button.  The elevator, when it came, had mirrored panels all around, and he gave himself a final once-over, his suit a spotless three piece in charcoal grey, his shirt midnight blue silk with a silvery-grey tie.  He was clean-shaven, no nicks on his cheeks, his hair cropped short, shining gold and silver in the light.  He nodded curtly to himself. As good as it got.  Clients always liked the suits.  Hopefully this client wouldn’t want an extension of their time together; he had already worked two nights that week and was tired.  He pushed the button for the fourth floor, and sighed as the elevator made its way up.  Three hours, and he could be out of there.

x

Lacey French was nervous, and she didn’t like the feeling.

She had heard good things about Blue Star, and for the most part they had all turned out to be true.  Miss Blue seemed a kind and gracious employer, the pay and benefits were excellent, and the escorts she had met thus far had all been very welcoming.  She even had the option to let the client book the accommodation, but for her first assignment she had preferred to let the escort agency do it. The Arendelle Hotel was clean, modern, and the room she was currently pacing back and forth in had a large king bed, lounge area with a couch and coffee table, and a bathroom tiled in slate grey.  The hotel receptionist, when she checked in, hadn’t batted an eyelid as she had asked for the key, and she presumed that he was well aware of her profession.  To his credit, he hadn’t even looked down his nose at her.  All in all, the evening had started well.  But now her client was late, and she had heard nothing from Blue Star.

She pulled her phone from her bag, swiping at her contact list to call.  It rang for a long time before someone picked up, with a hurried greeting that she was certain wasn’t the one the agency used.

“Hey,” she said.  “It’s Lacey.  I’m on my first job, and I’m not sure if we’ve met. Who’s that?”

“Astrid,” came the voice, sounding flustered.  “Um - I’m kind of having a situation here…”

“It’s cool, I’ll let you go in a second, I just need some info,” said Lacey.  “Who’s my client?  I was sure we said seven o’clock, but he’s not here.”

“I - I can’t get into any of the records,” said Astrid.  “The computer kind of went poof and now nothing’s working!”

Lacey rolled her eyes, pacing back and forth beside the bed.

“So you can’t tell me who I’m supposed to be banging tonight?” she asked. “Whoever he is, he’s fucking late.  Like an hour.  At least tell me he paid in advance.”

“Um…”  Astrid’s uncertain tone made Lacey sigh.  “I - guess?”

“I don’t believe this…”

“I’m sorry!” said Astrid wretchedly.  “This evening has been a nightmare!”

“Astrid, come on!” Lacey threw up her hand and let it fall against her leg with a slap.  “I could be losing money here!”

There was a knock at the door, and her head whipped around.

“Hey, never mind,” she said quickly.  “I think he’s here.  Maybe it was eight, not seven, my brain’s gone to crap!”

“Yes, but—”

“If there’s a problem I’ll call, okay?”

Lacey rang off, turning the phone to silent and shoving it in her bag before going to the door.  She glanced at herself in the mirror as she passed, tight black dress that showed off every curve, hair piled on top of her head, makeup on point…  She took a deep breath, and nodded to herself.  You got this, girl. Just remember to stay in character and keep your bloody wits about you.

She opened the door, and blinked.  A man stood there, gazing at her with a calm, somewhat flat expression in his dark eyes.  He was maybe in his late forties, possibly early fifties.  Short for a guy: perhaps five-eight, and thin.  He wore what looked like a very expensive three-piece suit with a dark blue silk shirt and grey tie, and his light brown hair was cropped short and scattered with grey, shining silver at his temples.

“Good evening,” he said quietly.  “I believe we have an appointment.”

Lacey started, remembering what she was supposed to be doing.  His accent was Scottish, though somewhat softer than she had heard from others.  There was a pleasant warmth to it, a low roundness that made the words flow out and wrap around her.  She licked her lips.

“Yeah,” she said, and then smiled.  She made her voice a little lower and softer, more sultry and inviting.  “Yes, we do.  Come on in.”

She stepped back, and he moved past her into the room, a black leather holdall swinging from one hand.  She pushed the door shut and locked it, turning to look him over as he glanced around the room.  He had an angular face, with high cheekbones and a slightly crooked nose.  Silvery wisps of hair brushed the pointed tips of his ears, and she wondered what he did for a living.  A company chairman, perhaps, or an investment banker.  It must be something that paid well enough to get him that suit and three hours of her time on a Friday night.  He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, so maybe he was too busy to have a proper relationship.  Or maybe he just liked sleeping with strangers where he could set the terms and avoid emotional entanglements. Either way he looked pretty good, and his money would spend just as well as anyone else’s.

“Three hours, right?” she said, and he glanced over his shoulder.

“Correct.”

“What’s your name?” she asked.

He set down the bag on the arm of the couch, adjusting his cuffs as he turned to face her, then inclined his head, and smiled, showing white teeth.

“Danny Devine, at your service.”

So did your parents hate you, or did they give all their kids stripper names?

“I’m Belle,” she said, keeping the amusement from her face.  “Belle Delacoeur.”

His mouth twitched a little, as though he knew that wasn’t her real name.  She reasoned that perhaps Danny Devine wasn’t his, either.  Clients often gave fake names, she had been told.  He opened up the bag, lifting out a bottle of champagne and holding it up.  She wondered what else was in there.  Work stuff, maybe?  Papers?

“Well, Miss Delacoeur,” he said.  “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Would you like a drink?”

She hesitated, but the champagne had very obviously not been opened, and she couldn’t see any way he could have tampered with it.

“I’d love one,” she said.  “There are glasses on the drinks cabinet.”

He nodded, and proceeded to open the champagne, which was clearly something he was used to doing.  She watched with interest as he fetched a hand towel from the bathroom, removed the foil and the wire cage from around the cork, then wrapped the towel over the top and twisted the bottle, the cork coming free with a low phut sound.  He removed the towel with a flourish, and she heard a fizzing noise, but the champagne remained in the bottle, which was more than could be said for the few times she had opened one.

“Hey, you managed not to spurt everywhere,” she said.  “Good job.”

He shot her a look, and she wanted to clap a hand over her mouth as she realised what she’d said.  Lacey would happily say such things, usually with a wink and a suggestive snicker, but Belle Delacoeur was more refined.  Or so she had decided when she created the character she would use for her assignments.  A blush rose in her cheeks, but she decided to just run with the innuendo, and raised her chin, swinging one hip outwards.

“Guess that bodes well for me, huh?” she said.  A little flattery never hurt.

“The night is young,” he said, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

He poured two glasses, and handed one to her.  Lacey cradled it in both hands, breathing in the light scent and waiting until he took a drink before she did the same.  The champagne was crisp and clean, fizzing on her tongue, and she watched him over her glass, at the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, and the light glinted on his hair.  Definitely attractive.  She ran her eyes over his body, realising that she was intrigued about what he was hiding under the suit, and he swilled champagne around his mouth before swallowing, dark eye studying her as carefully as she studied him.

“May I call you Belle?” he asked.

“Please do.”  Maybe it’ll encourage me to keep in fucking character.

He nodded.

“Well,” he said.  “Let’s discuss terms.”

“Terms?”

“What you want,” he said patiently.  “And more importantly, what you don’t want.”

Lacey stared at him for a moment.  He was offering her a choice?  

“I guess - I guess communication’s the most important thing,” she said.  “I don’t want any nasty surprises.”

“I understand.”

“And - and I really didn’t sign up for a world of pain, either.”

“Good,” he said briskly.  “I have no interest in causing you pain, Belle.  And if there’s something I do that you don’t like, I want you to tell me to stop, alright?”

Wow.  You are not what I was expecting.

“What about you?” she asked, and his eyebrows twitched.

“Me?”

“Yeah,” she said.  “What do you want?”

He stared at her for a moment, as though he didn’t understand the question, and then blinked.

“I’m already getting everything I want from this evening, I assure you,” he said quietly.

What the hell does that mean?  Guess it doesn’t matter.  He’s paid already. Doesn’t seem to be a creep.  Let’s go.

“Well, okay then,” she said.  “I guess that’s it.”

“Very well.”  He took another drink, and set down his glass.  “Shall we begin?”

“Uh…”

She took a final swig of the champagne, and set the glass next to his, her heart thumping with a small amount of trepidation.  You’re Belle, you’re Belle, you’re Belle...

“Yes,” she said.  “I’m ready.”

He stepped closer, moving until he was almost touching her, and Lacey felt her breath quicken a little as he reached up to cup her face with his hands. They were smooth and cool, the scent of cologne on his fingers, and she was surprised to feel arousal tug at her abdomen.  His eyes were very dark, gazing into hers as though he could see into her soul.

“Shall I kiss you?” he asked, and his voice was low and rough.  The gentle tug in her belly became a clench.

“Please,” she whispered, and he lowered his mouth to hers.

His lips were warm and soft, and he gently slipped his tongue into her mouth, causing her to rise up on her toes with a tiny moan.  His tongue stroked against hers, and she slid her hands up his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through the suit he wore.  He tasted good, and she let out a hum of pleasure as they kissed, his fingers sending tiny shivers through her as they stroked over the nape of her neck.  He broke the kiss, lips pulling at hers as they parted, and pressed his brow to hers, his dark eyes flicking open.

“What would you like me to do to you?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, and Lacey licked her lips as she shivered deliciously.

You want me to guide you, huh?  I can do that.

“Undress me,” she whispered.

He moved around her, his body brushing against hers, and she shivered again as she felt his fingers at her back, taking the zipper of her dress and slowly pulling it down.  She gasped as he pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, and his fingers slipped beneath the opened back of the dress, pushing it from her shoulders and down her arms.  It fell to her waist, and she slipped her arms out as he pushed the dress over her hips, leaving her in her underwear and stockings.  Moving around to face her again, he pulled pins from her hair, unwinding it and letting it fall, his fingers stroking through it to separate the strands.  There was a calm softness in his face, in his eyes, his gaze running over her without any of the lust or greed she had expected.  It was something like reverence.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.  “You’re beautiful, Belle.”

Lacey shivered as his hands stroked over her bare shoulders, wanting to take her lower lip between her teeth, the way she always had when she was nervous. She thought she had gotten over that.  She thought she had closed herself off enough that nothing could touch her.  And yet the way he was looking at her, as though she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, as though she mattered, was making her breath catch in her throat.  She decided that she trusted him.

“Now the bra,” she said softly.

His thumbs gently slipped under the straps at her shoulders, drawing them down her arms, and he reached around to the back to unhook it deftly.  The bra fell from her, and she licked her lips as he looked her over, a low appreciative murmur coming from him.  It gave her an unexpectedly good feeling to know how attractive he found her, and she sucked in a breath as he bent his head to kiss her neck, shivers running through her as his lips pulled at her skin.  She let out a moan, hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders, and he bent his knees a little, kissing down her throat, mouth trailing over her chest until he reached her nipple.  Lacey moaned again as he sucked it in between his lips, the feel of his tongue against her sending jolts of sensation through her body.

She rose up on her toes, fingers stroking through his hair, her breath coming hard as his hand cupped her other breast and squeezed.  Her head rolled back, hair tickling between her shoulder blades as he sucked at her, and he slid his hand around to the small of her back, pulling her closer.  The fine wool of his suit was soft against her skin, and she felt a tiny thrill at being almost naked while he was so buttoned up and immaculate.  He let her nipple slip from his mouth, kissing back up to her throat to suck at the place where her pulse throbbed, and Lacey let out a moan of pleasure.

Gold let his hands slide down her back, cupping her small, pert rear end. Belle Delacoeur - he doubted that was her true name, but it suited her nonetheless - was certainly lovely to look at, and very pleasant in his arms, being just the right height and build to suit his own small frame.  She seemed nervous, and he felt that familiar urge to protect, to reassure.  He brushed his lips against the soft skin of her throat, reaching her ear as his thumbs slipped under the waistband of her underwear.

“Shall I take these off?” he murmured, and she nodded.

He pushed the underwear slowly down over her hips, letting it fall around her ankles, and she stepped out of it with one high-heeled shoe, then the other. Sliding her hands to his shoulders, she reached for the knot of his silk tie, and began tugging it open, drawing the length of silk through until she could pull it from around his neck and toss it aside.  She plucked open the first three buttons of his shirt, exposing the top of his chest, then her hands dropped to flick open the buttons of his jacket, and she pushed it from his shoulders.  Gold let it fall, snagging it with one hand and draping it over the back of the nearby couch.

“You want to get on the bed?” she asked.

He smiled a little, nodding, and she stepped away from him, walking to the bed with a swing of her hips.  He wondered what had brought her here, why a creature so lovely would feel the need to pay for sex.  There could certainly be no shortage of men who would be willing to oblige her for free, but perhaps she had been hurt or disappointed in the past.  She sounded Australian, so it was possible that she was only in the city for a short time, and had therefore chosen guaranteed pleasure, with the certainty of no strings attached.  Either way, it was none of his business.

He took the gold cufflinks from his sleeves as he watched her, slipping them into his pants pocket and letting the cuffs hang loose.  She had kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the bed in nothing but her lace-top stockings, and was sitting up with her hands braced behind her and her knees bent.  Her breasts were pushed up, the dark cleft between her legs glistening with promise, and he felt himself twitch with interest.  He turned to his bag, reaching for some condoms and throwing them onto the bed, and Belle picked one up.

“A moment,” he said, as she made to open it.  “Let’s see to your pleasure before we open that, shall we?”

Her eyes widened, and he nodded to himself.  Definitely disappointed in the past, then.  Well, she had paid for him to put her needs first, and he intended to.

“Lie back,” he whispered.

For a moment he thought she was about to say something, but then she slowly lowered herself back on the bed, knees still bent.  He knelt at her feet, hands on her knees, watching her chest rise and fall with her breath, red lips parted, her dark curls spread out on the pillows.  God, she’s gorgeous!  The prettiest thing I’ve seen.

He slid his hands up one thigh, fingertips tucking under the edge of her stocking, and he slowly peeled it down, baring her leg.  Her skin was as smooth and pale as the rest of her, and he pulled off the stocking at her foot, letting it flutter to the floor.  Her toes were painted dark red, the same colour as her fingernails, and he lifted the foot in his palm, bending his head to press a kiss to it.  Belle gasped as his tongue pushed between her toes, stroking against delicate skin.  He drew a toe into his mouth, sucking at her, and she let out a tiny moan.  His tongue flickered over her, and he sucked each toe in turn before running his lips along the underside of her foot.  She jerked a little, ticklish, and he briefly smiled before lowering her foot onto the bed.

He repeated his actions with her other leg, rolling down the stocking and tossing it aside, letting his tongue explore the curves and hollows of her foot before dropping it to the bed.  She was fully naked, chest heaving and lips gleaming, and he bent his head to press kisses to her knees, gently pushing them apart to kiss her inner thighs.  Belle sucked in a breath as his lips moved upwards, her skin as soft as silk.  He could smell her scent in the air, arousal making his cock swell in his pants.  There would be no need for chemical assistance on this occasion, it seemed.  At least not for the first time.  She had paid for three hours; it was likely he would be asked to perform more than once in that time.  It looked as though it was going to be as much of a pleasure for him as for her.  Which made a change.

He could hear her breathing quicken as his mouth trailed higher, the tip of his tongue gently tracing over her skin and making her start.  Her scent was intoxicating, sweet musk in the air around him, and he nosed the soft skin of her nether lips, letting his breath wash over her before pressing a kiss to her.  Belle moaned, and slowly, gently, he let the tip of his tongue part her soft folds, drawing upwards.  Her moan became a cry, her hands dropping to stroke his hair, sending shivers through him, and her flavour spread across his tongue, causing a low growl of appreciation to rumble up out of him.  He licked her again, achingly slow and deliberate, and Belle moaned and lifted her hips, trying to push herself closer to his mouth.

“That’s so good!” she whispered.  “Oh God, that’s amazing!”

He swept his tongue over her, feeling the hardened nub of her clit, tasting the salt of her arousal on his tongue, breathing in the scent of her.  One hand pushed her thigh down a little, so that he could reach more of her, and his other hand crept up between her legs, beneath his chin, gently stroking her flesh as his tongue swept and circled.  Belle continued to whisper how good it felt, and he got the strange impression that she was trying to encourage him, to reassure him.  An odd thing for a paying client, but he certainly wasn’t complaining.  It showed she was a good person.

He let the tip of his tongue tease her clit, stroking around it in slow circles, and Belle let out a whimper, back arching upwards before falling back against the blankets.  Her hands were still carding his hair, nails scraping his scalp, a pleasant sensation, and he let a finger tease her entrance, her flesh slippery with saliva and her own juices.  She moaned, fingers tightening on the few strands of his hair that she had managed to grasp, and he pushed the finger inside her, sliding deep and feeling soft, wet flesh close up around him.  It made his mind stray to how good it would feel to slide his cock deep inside her and fuck her, long and slow.  He shoved the thought away, trying to concentrate on the task at hand.  First I make her come.  Then I make her come again.  Then we’ll see what else she wants.

“God, that’s good!” she breathed.

He began to slide the finger in and out of her, his tongue sweeping over her in a steady rhythm.  Her body was starting to grow taut, her muscles stiffening, and he quickened the pace a little, thrusting and licking, her juices spreading over his nose, his chin, her scent covering him.  Belle let out a high, whimpering moan, clutching at his hair, her back arching upwards as his tongue flickered back and forth over her clit.  She came with a loud cry, her body jerking, and he drew out the finger, licking up salty, whitish cum as it leaked from her.

“You taste delicious!” he growled, and she murmured something in response, her body still twitching.

He ran his tongue over her flesh, pushing inside her, and finished by pressing kisses to her, sticky fluid on his lips.  Shifting onto his knees, he began kissing up over her belly to her breasts, his mouth fastening over a nipple and sucking at her.  Belle’s hands stroked up his arms to rest on his shoulders, and he pushed up on the heels of his hands to gaze down at her.  She was smiling a little, her eyes heavy-lidded and sleepy, but they latched onto his, and her smile widened.

“That was amazing!” she purred, and her forefinger stroked across from his shoulder to the hollow at the base of his naked throat, tracing a line down his chest to where the shirt was buttoned.  “But you’re overdressed.”

She went to work on the waistcoat, getting it open and pushing it from his shoulders, and he knelt up to shrug it off and toss it towards the chair.  His hands dropped to the buttons of his shirt, and Belle pushed up on the heels of her hands, watching as he tugged it from his pants and peeled it off.  She ran her hands over his body, eyes flicking over his skin, fingers running over his nipples and sending jolts of sensation through him.  The palms of her hands slid down over his belly, thumbs brushing against his belt, and he held her gaze as she slowly pulled it open with a clink of the buckle.

“I like your suit,” she said, and his mouth twitched a little.

“Most of it seems to be over on that chair.”

“I like what’s underneath it more.”

She unhooked the clasp at the top of his pants and drew down the zipper, pushing the pants over his hips to reveal black silk boxers.  A finger traced the rigid line of his cock, and she smirked a little, eyes gleaming.

“Well now,” she murmured.  “I think it’s high time I gave this some attention, don’t you?”

“We can wait a little while, if you like,” he said.  “There are many more ways I can give you pleasure, but it’s your decision.”

She put her head to the side, looking curious.

“Many more ways?”

He smiled, stroking a wisp of hair back from her cheek.

“Let me up a moment, and I’ll get some things from my bag.”

Lacey sat back on her heels as he got off the bed, bending to take off shoes and socks and slipping out of his suit pants, which were carefully folded and draped over the back of the chair.  He seemed very meticulous.  She wondered if he was like that in every area of life.  Perhaps he was one of those men who liked everything just so - a spotless house with everything in its place.  She imagined he had cleaning staff to take care of that sort of thing.  Unlike her tiny one-bed apartment with its piles of books, collection of used coffee mugs and the ever-present basket of unfolded laundry.  She imagined he’d curl his lip in disgust at the way she lived.

She watched curiously as he opened up the black leather bag and reached inside, rummaging around a little before bringing out what looked like a selection of vibrators in various sizes and stacking them on the dresser.  Lacey blinked.

“You - you brought your own toys?” she asked disbelievingly.

“Of course.”

“Oh.”  She brushed a curl of hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear.  “Yeah, I have a bunch with me, too.”

“Perhaps we could compare notes,” he suggested, with a wicked grin, and she giggled.

“I say we try a few of them out first,” she said.  “Do you have lube?”

“Of course,” he said again, a faint look of puzzlement on his face.  “A moment, let me get some.”

“I’m not allergic to any of it, so it doesn’t matter which kind.”

“I have several varieties,” he said, reaching into the bag again.  “But this is excellent.”

He held up a plastic bottle with a pump dispenser, and Lacey nodded with a smile as she recognised the brand.  That would do nicely.  She held out a hand to him.

“Come here,” she said softly.  “Come to bed.”

He smiled faintly, and tossed the toys and lube onto the bed before taking her hand and climbing on beside her.  His mouth found hers, and she moaned a little at the taste of him as his tongue slipped inside, a hint of her salt still on his lips.  He pushed her slowly back onto the bed, and Lacey ran her fingers through the short strands of his hair as she settled back against the blankets, hs body a pleasant weight on her.  Their lips parted as he broke the kiss, lifting his head a little, his breathing heavy and his eyes dark with desire.

“Would you like me to use one of the toys?”

His voice was low and rough, making her skin tingle with anticipation, and she nodded.  He seemed to get his kicks from giving her pleasure, which made a surprising change, but she was well aware she would have to return the favour at some point.  She thought it over as he reached above her to grab the bottle of lube.  Perhaps she could ride him hard, make him lose his mind.  That could be fun for both of them.

He pushed up onto his knees and squirted a little of the lube onto his hands, warming it between his palms before he lay back down by her side and reached between her legs.  Lacey moaned as he touched her, gently stroking slippery fingers through her sensitive flesh.

“That feels so good!” she whispered.

She felt him smile against her ear as he slipped a finger inside her, and she moaned, pushing up against his hand as his thumb rubbed over her clit.  It felt good, and she was almost certain he could make her come just with the touch of his hand, but then he withdrew the finger from her and after a moment she heard the low, insistent buzz of one of the vibrators.  She licked her lips, breath catching in her throat in anticipation.  The first touch of something smooth and firm against her clit made her cry out in pleasure, and then he began moving it slowly, stroking against her flesh, sending waves of sensation through her body.

She opened her legs a little, arching her back, moaning as she pushed her hips upwards, and he continued to move the vibrator over her.  It felt incredible, and she let her head roll back against the pillows, her moans growing louder.  She could feel a tide of pleasure rising up through her body, making her cheeks flush and her heart pound, and she closed her eyes, lips parted, holding her breath before letting it out in a wailing cry as she came.

Bliss poured over her in a wave of heat, her body jerking, and he pulled the vibrator from her just before it became too much for her sensitive flesh.  She moaned and writhed, almost purring in pleasure, her whole body feeling heavy and loose and relaxed.  He was kissing her neck, soft lips trailing over her skin, and she let herself sink into the blankets with a contented sigh, her body tingling.

He pushed up on one elbow, looking down at her with a tiny grin on his face, as though he was pleased with himself, and Lacey shook her head a little. Okay, I gotta earn my money here, this is insane!

She pushed him onto his back, kissing him hungrily, and he slid a hand into her hair, fingers twisting around her curls as his tongue slipped into her mouth. Lacey hummed in appreciation, hands sliding down over his chest, and he let out a brief exclamation as she teased his nipples with thumb and forefinger. Her hands worked lower, finding the waistband of his boxers, and she began gently working them down over his hips.  He lifted up off the bed to help her, and she shuffled lower, drawing the black silk down the length of his legs and off at his feet.

Turning back to him, she ran her eyes over him for a moment.  He was perhaps a little thin, but in good shape for a guy his age, and very noticeably aroused, which made her smirk.  She dropped onto the palms of her hands, walking her way up the bed to gaze down at him.

“I think it’s your turn,” she said softly.

Gold closed his eyes at her kiss, and relaxed into the pillows as she pulled her mouth from his and began kissing down his throat.  Her dark, silky hair tickled the skin of his chest, the pull of her lips sending tiny bursts of pleasure through him.  She glanced up, holding his gaze for a moment, and then moved down the bed, kissing over his belly, her lips brushing against his skin.  It felt good, and he wanted her to continue, to kiss down between his legs and suck his balls in between those perfect lips.  He wanted her hot, wet mouth to close up around his cock and suck him hard.  But he had learned the hard way never to allow someone that kind of power over him, and as she kissed along the crease at the top of his thigh, his hands tightened on her shoulders, pushing her up and away from him.

“That - that won’t be necessary,” he said, a little breathlessly, and she sat back a little, looking puzzled.

“You don’t want me to?”

He shook his head.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t, thank you.”

She shrugged, as if to say it didn’t matter to her, and moved up his body again to kiss his chest, sucking on his nipples and making him groan before pushing up on her hands, dark curls falling around her face.

“Are you ready?” she whispered, and he nodded.

She wriggled back down between his legs, and he heard the crackle of the condom packet as she got it open.  Her hair was hanging in front of her face, hiding what she was doing, but he felt her grasp his cock, and he sucked in a breath as she gripped him hard, pulling him upwards to roll on the condom.  He reached for the bottle of lube, squirting a little onto himself and spreading it with his fingers, and Belle crawled back up the bed a little, straddling him, her core pressed against the hard length of him.  Her hands slid slowly up his chest, thumbs rubbing over his nipples and making him jerk in response, and then she reached between them, taking him in hand and gently guiding him inside her.

Gold groaned as she sank down onto him, her heat surrounding him.  She straightened up, sweeping her hair out of her face, her breasts pulled high as she arched her back a little, gently rolling her hips as she settled herself.  It felt incredible, and he reached up to take her hips and hold her in place, knowing it would increase the friction for her, increase the pleasure.  She braced herself with her hands on his belly, and began to move her hips with a slow, rhythmic, circular motion, grinding against him.

He let his head roll back with a groan of pleasure, pushing his hips up to meet her, tugging her against him, and Belle moaned in response, shaking back her hair.  He reached to the side, grasping at one of the bullet vibrators, and caught her eyes for a moment, getting a nod from her before flicking it on with his thumb.  She was breathing hard as she moved, eyes fixed on his, and he slid the vibrator down over his belly and between her legs into the wet heat where their bodies joined.

Lacey threw her head back with a moaning cry as the slim, firm shape slipped over her clit, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through her.  She tried to keep her concentration, to keep her rhythm, letting him slide out almost all the way before sinking back down onto him, but it was hard not to fuck him hard and fast and take them both over the edge.  She shook her head, fingers digging into the skin on his belly as she quickened her pace just a little, hips moving in time with the thrusts of the vibrator.  His cock felt good inside her, hard and deep, and she arched her back a little, wanting to take as much of him inside her as she could get.  He seemed to sense her need, gripping her with one hand as the other thrust the toy in and out of the space where they met, hot and slick with fluid.  His hips pushed upwards, thrusting deep, and a low groan rumbled out of him, making her belly clench with need.

“God, that’s good!” she gasped.  “You feel so good!”

He groaned in response, thrusting upwards, one hand holding her in place as the other rubbed the vibrator over her flesh, and she leaned back a little further, increasing the friction, clenching her inner walls around him and tugging hard.  His eyes rolled, his head pushing back against the pillows, and she could see the muscles of his neck and arms growing taut with the effort.  She kept up her rhythm, squeezing him, pulling him, feeling the head of his cock rub against her, deep inside her body.  She rocked her hips, knowing it would excite him, and he arched upwards with a groaning cry as he came, cock pulsing inside her.

Lacey straightened up, shifting her hips forward a little and rocking against him over and over until pleasure burst through her once more.  She let out a loud cry, hands braced on his belly, and let her head drop as she tried to catch her breath, sweat beading on her lip and trickling down between her breasts.  The vibrator was still tucked between them, its buzzing too much sensation against her tender skin, and she plucked it out and tossed it aside.  Gripping the base of the condom, she eased up off him and rolled onto her back with a sharp exhalation of relief, and for a moment there was only the sound of their ragged, uneven breathing.

Gold ran a hand over his face, his heart thumping hard and sweat cooling on his skin.  He glanced to the side, where a clock sat on the nightstand.  Plenty of time left.  Turning his head, he saw that Belle was still gulping in air, the tip of her tongue sweeping over her lips.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked, and she nodded.

He got up, grasping the base of the condom and heading for the bathroom to dispose of the thing.  Once he had washed his hands and returned, he refilled their champagne glasses and carried them over to the bed.  Belle had pushed up against the pillows, dark curls falling over flushed cheeks.  She smiled as he handed over her glass, and let out a groan of approval as he went to pour a glass of water.  The champagne was set down at once, and she cupped the glass in both hands, drinking it down and licking her lips.

“Thanks.  God, I was thirsty!”

He refilled the glass, but she shook her head and reached for her champagne, so he drank the water himself, taking a moment to pop one of the pills that he carried in his bag before climbing onto the bed beside her and sitting back.  She turned onto her side a little, eyeing him pensively.

“You want to take a shower?” she asked, and her voice had taken on that sultry tone again.  He smiled.

“Let me go and turn it on.”

“Mmm.”  She took a sip of her champagne.  “I bet you’re good at that.”

He grinned at her, then took a swig of his drink and got up, heading for the bathroom.  It was tiled in dark grey, and the shower was just the right size for two people to share, with small bottles of shampoo, conditioner and shower gel lined up in a chrome rack to the side.  Turning on the water, he let it run until it was hot, and started at the feel of hands creeping around his waist.  Soft lips found his ear, making him shiver.

“Sorry if I made you jump,” breathed Belle.  “Is it ready?”

He turned, smirking a little at her grinning face, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.  Really, she was very lovely.  This was turning into the most enjoyable assignment he had ever been given.

“Ready to go,” he confirmed.  “Shall we?”

“You get in, I’ll be there in a second.”

She slipped out of the room, and he got into the shower, closing the glass door behind him and stepping under the hot water.  He ran his hands over his face with a deep sigh, letting the water course over his skin.  Reaching for the shower gel, he began to wash, smiling as he heard the glass door open behind him.  He turned to face her, and Belle stepped close, lifting her head to kiss him and pressing her body against his.  Their skin was slippery with water, lips sliding, mouths soft and wet.  He could feel something cool and hard against his hip, and broke the kiss, glancing down. She was holding a large vibrator and a bottle of silicone lubricant, which she placed on the rack, next to the miniature bottles of toiletries.

“You’re very well prepared,” he observed, and she shrugged.

“Ready for anything.  Within reason.  I’m a regular Girl Scout.”

He grinned at that, and grabbed her hand, gently pulling her under the water with him and reaching up to cup her face as his mouth found hers.  Belle pulled the glass door shut, sealing them in as steam rose.  He deepened the kiss, and she moaned into his mouth, water cascading over them, making their lips slippery as he pushed her back against the tiled wall.  One hand slid down between them to cup her mound, and Belle shifted, rubbing against his fingers.  He gently stroked through velvet flesh, making her moan again as a finger entered her.  She was scalding hot, soft and wet, and he fingered her with long, slow thrusts, his thumb rubbing over her swollen clit.  She moaned, nails digging into his shoulders, one leg lifting to hook around his hip.

He could feel his cock already beginning to twitch with interest, although he knew it would take a little while for him to grow hard again, and so he broke the kiss and drew his fingers from her.  She began kissing his chest, lips and teeth gently tugging at him, and he pulled away, circling around until he was behind her, his back pressed against the cold tiles.  Slipping his arm around her waist, he drew her back against him.  Belle moaned, shifting her hips so that her buttocks rubbed against his cock, and making him grin.

He reached to the side, grasping the bottle of lube and squirting a little into his palm before setting it down and taking up the vibrator.  He spread the lube over the end, flicking it on to feel a strong, insistent buzz.  Belle sucked in a breath as if in anticipation, and he bent his head to kiss her neck as he slipped the vibrator between her thighs.  Belle moaned as it brushed against her, and he trailed his lips around to her ear.

“Open your legs,” he rasped.

Belle moaned again, head rolling back against his shoulder, feet shifting on the floor of the shower as she opened her legs wider.  He began to tease her with the head, rubbing it in slow circles over her flesh.

“God, that’s good!” she breathed.  “Oh, that’s amazing!”

His lips brushed her ear, sucking at the lobe, and he gently pushed the head of the vibrator into her.

“Can you take it, Belle?” he whispered.  “Can you take it all inside you?”

She nodded, arching her back a little as he slowly pushed the vibrator inside her, the thick plastic shaft sinking into her flesh and making her rise up on her toes with a gasp of pleasure.

“Very good,” he said softly.  “That’s very good, Belle.”

Gold kissed her neck, his other hand sliding down over her belly, a finger gently circling her clit as he thrust the vibrator in and out.  She moaned, reaching up to run her fingers over his scalp, legs opening wider as he pushed and pulled, fingertips flickering over slippery flesh.  She let out a tiny cry, and he drew his tongue up her throat, water droplets spattering against his skin.  He was growing hard, his cock pressing against her rear, and she pushed back against him, moving her hips a little to send jolts of sensation through him.  Steam was filling the shower, blurring his sight and damp in his lungs, and he ran his tongue over her pulse point, feeling the heavy throb of it.

“Harder,” she breathed, and he pushed the rigid shaft deep, making her roll her head back with a moan.

“How’s that?” he asked.  “Is that good?”

She nodded vigorously, and he slipped the vibrator in and out, fingers flickering, feeling her body grow taut as she neared her peak.  She came with a shout, her body shaking, and he kissed her neck, holding her tight around the waist as she jerked and moaned.  Slowly, he drew out the vibrator, watching glistening strands of cum wash away in the water.  She took it from him to wash it, her hands shaking a little, her breathing heavy.  Water ran into his eyes, stinging, and he squeezed them shut, wiping his face and stepping back a little out of the torrent.  Dark hair was plastered to her skin in curling strands, and he brushed it from her shoulders, kissing her gently as she set the vibrator in the chrome rack again.  His cock was still hard, and he felt a powerful urge to be inside her, a need to feel her come.  He wondered how much time they had left.

“What would you like me to do to you?” he murmured, and she twisted in his arms, twining her arms around his neck as she nuzzled his nose with hers.

“I want you inside me,” she breathed.  “Are you ready?”

She slipped a hand down between them, gripping his cock, and her lips curved upwards in a grin.  Her eyes flicked open, clear blue pools meeting his gaze, her cheeks adorably flushed and her mouth full and dark and wet.  Her fingers stroked him, sliding up and down the shaft, tracing around the head and making him shiver.

“Feels like you’re ready,” she whispered.  “Feels like you want to use this hard cock on me.  Push it deep until you’re all the way inside me.  Is that what you want?”

“Yes!” he rasped.  “Yes, I want you!”

She leaned in a little, lips gently brushing his ear.

“Then take me,” she whispered.  “Take me to bed and fuck me hard, Mr Devine.”

She squeezed him, and he felt a surge of desire go through him, his body responding instantly to her touch, to the feel of her against him, to the self-satisfied smirk on her beautiful face and the gleam in her eyes.  He kissed her hungrily, and she released him, stepping back and opening the shower door, hips swinging as she left.

Lacey towelled herself dry swiftly, rubbing water from her hair, and heard the shower cut off as she went into the bedroom.  The air was cool against her damp skin, and she tossed the towel aside, rummaging in her bag for a set of anal beads.  She had a pink plastic set, grouped in a curved, rigid line in increasing sizes, and she threw it onto the bed along with a couple of condoms and some more lube.  She had thought of a way they could both get some pleasure.  After a moment, she dug out a hollow butt plug and a bullet vibrator, and tossed those onto the bed.  Never hurt to be prepared.

Her skin was tingling, her hands still trembling a little, and she could feel excitement and arousal tugging at her, making her belly clench and her heart thump.  It was the most incredible night she had ever had, and to be paid money for the pleasure seemed to good to be true.  

Crawling onto the bed, she heard soft footsteps, and turned to face him as he entered, a towel snagged around his waist and his hair damp.  Her eyes dropped to his crotch, a telltale bulge in the towel proof of his arousal.  It made her grin, and she held out a hand to him.

“Come here,” she said softly.

He smiled a little, getting onto the bed on his knees, and she shifted onto her own, kneeling up and reaching for the towel at his waist.  Her fingers pulled slowly at soft cotton, opening it up and throwing it aside, and she let out a hum of pleasure as she ran a finger up the length of his cock.  He was hard and ready, his chest heaving, and she traced a winding path around the head and down the shaft, stroking over the soft sac of his balls.  Flicking her eyes up to meet his, she smiled, and reached to the side for a condom.  He watched as she rolled it on, his breath quickening a little at her touch, and Lacey licked her lips before leaning in to kiss his chest, sucking at a nipple and making him let out a low, rumbling growl.  She drew back, catching her lower lip with her teeth as she met his eyes, knowing that it made her look adorably coy and infinitely corruptible.

“Here,” she said, and reached for the set of beads, holding it up.

Gold raised an eyebrow, but took them from her, along with the bottle of lube she passed him.  She turned around onto her knees, spreading them wide and lifting her rear to reveal the deep pink petals of her sex, glistening with her juices.  He licked his lips, wanting to touch her, and she looked over her shoulder and winked at him, lips parted in a soft pout.

“Give it to me,” she purred.

Gold smirked to himself at her play-acting, but squirted some lube into his hand, warming it between his palms before spreading it between her legs.  She moaned, rocking back a little, and he squirted more onto the beads, spreading it with his fingers and making them slippery.  Hooking one finger through the plastic ring at the end, he pushed the first, smallest bead inside her, and she gasped, tossing her head, dark strands of damp hair whipping across pale shoulders.  He pushed against her tight entrance, letting a larger bead slip into her, and she moaned, fingers curling into the blankets.  Another push, and a third was inside her.

“How is that?” he asked softly.  “Can you take another?”

“Yes!” she whispered.

He pushed again, feeling it stretch her, hearing her tiny cry as it entered.

“Again!” she gasped.

She moaned as he pushed another inside, and the sound of it went straight to his groin.  He shifted closer, his cock pressed against her right buttock, and she glanced over her shoulder again.

“Fuck me!” she breathed.  “I want you inside me!”

He shifted position, sliding two fingers wet with lube inside her, and she moaned, pushing back onto his hand.  Sliding the fingers out, he took himself in hand and eased into her, grasping her hips and pulling, sinking all the way inside her.  She let out a cry, throwing her head back as he filled her.  He could feel the beads inside her, pressing against his cock through her slick walls, and he grasped the plastic ring.  There were two beads remaining, the two largest, and he gently pushed against her, watching as she spread her knees a little further apart, feeling the pressure against his cock as the bead slipped inside.  He slowly rocked his hips, letting himself slide out almost all the way before thrusting back inside, and she cried out.

“One more,” he whispered.  “Can you take it?”

“Yes!”

He pushed again, and she moaned as the bead stretched her, her breath catching as it slipped inside.  Releasing his finger from the plastic ring, he stroked his hands over her hips, and let himself slide out again before pushing back in, the feel of the beads an exquisite ripple of sensation against his cock.

“That’s good!” she gasped.  “You feel so good!”

He started to move with a slow, even rhythm, sinking deep inside her with every thrust, watching the muscles in her back and shoulders twitch as her hands grasped at the sheets.  Glancing to the side, he grasped the bullet vibrator, pressing the button at the end to turn it on.  He reached around her hip and between her legs, and Belle moaned as the smooth tip of it rubbed over her clit.  He could feel the sensations where he was buried within her, and he kept up the rhythm, long, slow strokes, the bullet circling her clit as he pushed and pulled inside her.  The feel of it was incredible, and he found himself trying to run through all the Shakespeare sonnets that he knew by heart, to list the plays in order of date, anything to distract his mind from the way she felt and the sounds she was making as he sank into her hot flesh. Her muscles were stiffening, her breath coming in pants, and he could sense she was as close as he.

“Oh, please!” she gasped.  “Please!”

He sank into her again, letting out a guttural groan of pleasure at the feel of the beads against his cock, the sensation almost too much to bear.  She was whimpering, her body shaking with the tension, and he groaned over and over, fucking her with short, rapid thrusts, the bullet rubbing over her clit as he worked them both to the edge.  Coloured stars burst behind his eyes as he came hard, and she followed him with a high-pitched cry, her flesh squeezing him, her hips bucking.  He pushed deep into her one last time, dropping the bullet and moving his hands to her hips to hold her steady as he tried to catch his breath.

Lacey let her head drop, gulping in air, sweat beading on her upper lip and her damp hair sticking to her cheeks.  She could still feel him inside her, although he was starting to soften, and she licked dry lips, wishing she could reach her drink.  She felt him grasp the base of the condom and pull out of her, and then there was a gentle tug at the beads inside her.  He drew them out slowly, and she sighed as the last one left her.

“I’ll just be a moment,” he said.

She felt the bed move as he got up, and a moment later heard the sound of running water.  Her heart was thumping, her cheeks on fire, and she stayed where she was, on hands and knees, chest heaving.  She was pretty sure she’d collapse if she tried to move, anyway.  The bathroom door closed with a click, and she heard the sound of soft footsteps.

“Are you alright?” he asked.  “You haven’t moved.”

Lacey wanted to roll her eyes.

“Oh my God!” she panted.  “Just - just give me a minute!”

She turned onto her back, huffing out air as her heart thudded in her chest, and he crawled onto the bed and lay on his side next to her, propped up on one elbow.

“We can just rest for awhile, if you like,” he said soothingly.

Oh, you think you beat me?  Not even close, buddy!  Damn, this guy has some stamina!

“I’m fine!” she insisted.  “Just let me catch my breath and I’m gonna climb you like a bloody tree!”

He chuckled, eyes twinkling, and she wanted to kick herself for letting her persona slip.  She turned to face him, pouting a little, and ran a fingertip over his chest.

“What I meant was, I think I need a moment after that,” she purred.  “And perhaps a drink?”

He looked amused, a tiny twist to his mouth, and she wondered if it was her swift change of tone from Lacey French to Belle Delacoeur.  To his credit, he didn’t mention it.

“Let me get you something,” he said instead.

She watched as he got out of bed and poured champagne into their glasses before rummaging in that black leather bag of his, the crackle of plastic reaching her ears.  He had his back to her, but she suspected he was taking some sort of chemical stimulant to let him get hard again.  That was fine with her; they still had time, and she had already had more orgasms than she had ever expected, so if he wanted to go again, she was ready for him.  In every sense.  Just as soon as she had recovered, of course.

Her heart was still thudding, but she was breathing more evenly, and she sat up and took the glass of champagne from him, smiling as she settled back against the pillows and brushed stray wisps of hair from her flushed cheeks.  He got onto the bed, sitting back next to her and taking a sip of his drink, and they lay in comfortable silence for awhile.  Lacey let out a contented sigh, wriggling a little in the blankets.  Her skin had stopped tingling, her limbs feeling pleasantly heavy and her muscles loose.  It would have perfect to slip beneath the covers with him and spoon up together for a nap, but she was well aware that sleep would have to wait until she was back in her own apartment.  A thought occurred to her, and she turned her head to face him.

“Do you live in Boston?” she asked.  He eyed her, eyes narrowing a little.

“No,” he said at last.

“Oh.”  She thought for a moment.  “You have family here?”

“I’d rather not discuss my private life, if that’s alright.”

“Right.”  She sipped at the champagne, wanting to kick herself.  This was a job, not a date. Tink had reminded her not to raise anything personal unless the client did it first. “Of course not, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“That’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” she added.  “I shouldn’t have asked.  Not my business.”

“It’s fine, really,” he assured her.

Lacey sensed that he meant it, that he was trying to make her feel at ease, but she still felt like an idiot for asking, for bringing the spectre of his real life into the bedroom with them.  For all she knew he had a wife and kids.  She didn’t think so, though; she got the impression that he was as lonely as she, for all his smooth ways and soft smiles.  She realised she felt safe with him, that she was relaxed in his presence.  It was a rare feeling, and she told herself firmly to liven up and be on her guard.  Just because a guy seemed like a decent person didn’t mean he couldn’t turn into an abusive piece of shit at a moment’s notice.  There had to be a reason this guy paid for it, after all.

The thought made her sad, because she wanted to trust him, wanted him to be the person he seemed.  It was as though two halves of her brain were in conflict; the more sensible part was telling her firmly to stay in character, use up the three hours, give him a good time and show him out the door when it was over.  And the part of her that was Lacey, the real Lacey, wanted to have a drink with him and ask him what books he liked and how he took his coffee.

The silence continued, but it wasn’t unpleasant.  Time was passing, though, and he would want his money’s worth.  They all did.  She took a deep, calming breath, and a fortifying sip of champagne.  Condensation had formed on the glass, running down it in thin streams, and she set it down on the nightstand, turning back to face him.

“Well then,” she said. “Now that I’ve got my breath back, I think it’s time for me to make those pretty eyes of yours roll back in your head, what do you say?”

He grinned at that, dark eyes gleaming.

“I thought that’s what I was trying to do to you.”

“Yeah, well, mission accomplished,” she said bluntly.  “I’m tingling all over and if I have another orgasm I’ll break something.  Just lie back and let me get a kick out of pleasuring you, how hard can that be?”

His grin widened, and he set down his own glass.

“Well, as long as you enjoy yourself, that’s fine with me.”

Oh my God, who is this guy?  And why the hell is he paying for it?  Damn!

Lacey shifted onto her knees, lifting her chin to stare down her nose at him.

“Hang onto something,” she announced, and swooped in to kiss him.

Gold kissed her back, fingers sliding into her damp curls, his tongue stroking against hers.  Her breasts were brushing against his chest, a pleasant feeling, and as she began to kiss down his neck and over his chest, he let his head roll back against the pillows, eyes closed.  She sucked on a nipple, tongue swirling over it and sending ripples of pleasure through him, and he smiled at the sensation, surprised that she wanted to try to see to his pleasure rather than have him concentrate on her own.  It made a refreshing change, and he wondered if this was her first time paying for sex.  It didn’t seem to be; she certainly had a collection of accessories that he hadn’t expected, but she also seemed vulnerable and a little awkward, hiding her true self behind an image that she had created and was finding it difficult to maintain.

He had noticed that her voice had changed, and was no longer the sultry, throaty purr she had used when he first entered the room.  He suspected that whomever she had been pretending to be for the night, she had given up on it.  Idly, he wondered who she really was, and what she did when she wasn’t in hotel rooms with escorts.  She was too young to be a lawyer or banker, as many of his clients were.  An heiress, perhaps?  One of those internet celebrities he’d never heard of but that Astrid was always reading about?  He supposed it didn’t matter, but a part of him wanted to know who she truly was behind the false name and the honeyed voice.  She seemed to have a good heart.

Her breasts were rubbing against his cock, making it twitch with interest, and he groaned a little, reaching up to stroke his fingers through her hair as she kissed over his belly.  He was thankful for the chemical assistance he carried; he would never have coped otherwise, and he knew he was going to feel like death the next day as it was.  Belle raised her head, and he opened his eyes to meet hers.  Her mouth was dark and full, lips glistening with saliva, and for a moment he wanted to break his own rules and ask her to suck him.  A wild notion, and a foolish one.  Besides, it was her night, not his.  She licked her lips, and reached to the side, holding up a butt plug and raising an eyebrow as she glanced back at him.

“I thought we might use this, if you’re okay with that,” she said.  “It’s hollow, you can put the bullet in it.  It’ll make your toes curl, trust me.”

“Oh, I do,” he said, and realised that he meant it.  He nodded.  “Alright.”

“It’ll be easier if you get on your knees.”

Lacey straightened up, shifting to the side so that he could roll over and push up on his hands and knees.  She reached for the lube, spreading plenty of it over the plug, and then onto him, before shifting position to kneel up behind him.  She pushed the plug into him slowly, gently, taking time to let him adjust to it, and he let out a low groan as it slid into him.  Flicking the end of it with her finger made him jump and chuckle richly, and she grinned, reaching for the bullet and turning it on.  She slipped it inside the hollow core of the plug, and he groaned deeply.

“Fuck!”

Lacey smirked, one hand moving between his legs and gently stroking his balls before sliding up to grasp his cock. She began fondling him with long slow strokes of her hand, and he groaned as he rocked his hips in time with her, the muscles of his arms growing taut.

“How’s that?” she asked softly.  “Is that good?”

“So good,” he said, between gritted teeth.  “You’re so good at that.”

She drew the bullet out and let it slip back inside again, and he threw his head back with a low groan.  The sound of it called to her, made her want him again, and she licked her lips, uncertain whether he would want her to stop what she was doing.  She bent to kiss his back, the faint salty taste of perspiration on her lips as she rubbed him.

“Do you want me to keep doing this?” she murmured.  “Or do you want me to fuck you?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, his breath heaving, and jerked his head towards the nightstand where the clock sat.

“Time’s against us,” he gasped.  “Your choice.”

She should have done the selfless thing and brought him off, but she wanted to feel him inside her again.  If it was to be their last time, she wanted to see his face and feel him fill her up once more.  His cock was hard and thick in her hand, and she fumbled around in the sheets, hunting for one of the condoms. Getting it out of the packet and onto him was difficult when her hands were covered in lube, but she managed it in the end, and he growled in pleasure as she rolled it down his length.  She moved, taking the bullet out of him and turning onto her back, and he got between her legs and guided himself inside, sinking into her with a cry.  She slipped the bullet vibrator inside again, and his eyes rolled back as he let out a deep groan of pleasure.  Lacey lifted her hands, pushing them up above her head against the cool pillow, and he bent his head to kiss her, tongue pushing into her mouth as he fucked her hard.

His movements grew harder, deeper, hands sliding up her arms, fingers lacing through hers, pushing her hands down into the pillows as he thrust inside her. Lacey drew up her knees, wrapping her legs around his back, their bodies slippery with sweat and lube, tingling with vibrations, flushed with passion and their shared heat.  She could feel herself nearing climax, her limbs growing taut as she chased her pleasure, and he thrust inside her with a low cry, pumping his hips as he came.  His cock pulsed, and the feel of it made a tide of bliss wash over her, her cries drowning out his.  She bucked against him, flesh tugging at him, goosebumps rippling over her skin as pleasure took her.

Gold tried to calm himself, slowing his thrusts as she writhed and moaned beneath him.  Her flesh was still clenching around him, pulling the cum from him, sending ripples of pleasure through his body.  He drew to a stop, releasing her hands and pushing up on his palms, head hanging as he tried to catch his breath.  She was panting, her chest heaving, eyes closed and full lips parted and shining.  He let out a final, shuddering breath, and reached between them to grasp the base of the condom before pulling out of her and rolling onto his back with a groaning gasp.  The plug was still firmly inside him, but the vibrator had fallen out; he could hear a muted buzz from somewhere on the bed, but didn’t have the energy to look for it.  Glancing to the side, he could see that the three hours were almost up.  Just as fucking well, I might die if I have to go again.  He ran his hands over his face as he tried to steady his breathing, and Belle let out a heavy sigh.

“Whoa!” she gasped, letting an arm fall over her eyes.  “That was fucking amazing!”

“Yes.”

He couldn’t say much more than that.  It felt as though he’d been beaten up and then turned inside out, and he was sure he’d ache like hell the next day, but his body was still humming with pleasure, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever forget how good she had felt beneath him.

“Best night of my life, no question,” she added, her voice shaking a little as she tried to catch her breath.  “I mean seriously.  Usually I have to spend my time stroking egos and faking orgasms.  That. Was. Awesome!”

“I aim to please,” he said.

“No shit.”  She lowered her arm and turned on her side to face him.  “Hey, have you ever considered doing this professionally?”

He smiled lazily.  “Very funny.”

“I’m serious!” she insisted.  “I have no idea what you do when you’re not having sex, but I’m telling you it’s time wasted.  The money’s really good, you know.  You could make a killing.”

Slowly, very slowly, Gold lifted his head up off the pillows.

“What?”

x

Saturday morning, and a fine day had brought gulls in along with the fishing boats that went in and out of Boston harbour.  Gold glanced up, watching them dance and wheel in the air above as he made his way along the street. Wailing, mewing calls filled the air around him, making it sound as though they were having a laugh at his expense.  As they should.  Sighing to himself as he came to a stop, Gold rolled his shoulders, gazing up at the building which housed, amongst other businesses, Blue Star Escort Services.  He was tired, his limbs aching, and despite having stayed over in Boston the night before, felt as though he needed about twelve hours’ extra sleep.  He wondered how Lacey was holding up.  Probably far better than he.

Once they had both worked out what had happened, they were able to find the humour in the situation, although Gold had to admit it wasn’t an ideal way to meet a colleague.  Lacey had laughed about it even more than he had, but she had grown shy afterwards, and had dressed and made her exit quickly. He had been perhaps five minutes after her, heading to the motel he had booked just outside town to get a night’s sleep before going to the agency for his regular medical, and for an explanation of how he had ended up screwing a fellow escort instead of his client.

Much to his relief, Tink was back on duty at reception, grinning widely at him from beneath a loose bun of messy blonde curls.

“So, here’s the man of the hour,” she drawled.  “Who’s been a bad boy, then?”

“It wasn’t my fault,” he said patiently.  “A mix up in the bookings, that’s all. Could happen to anyone.  How did the client take it?”

“She called up, screeching about being stood up,” said Tink, with a shrug. “Astrid couldn’t calm her down, so Blue had to take the call from the networking function.  It’s cool, she smoothed some ruffled feathers, offered a discount, and sent Graham out on a rescue mission.”

Gold sighed.  “I owe him one, in that case.  I haven’t seen this client before, but I hope she wasn’t too difficult.”

“He managed to win her over,” said Tink.  “She says she wants you next Friday, though.  No excuses, in her words.  Sounds the demanding type.  You up for it?”

“Given the right chemical stimulants,” he remarked dryly, and she snickered.

“Great, I’ll confirm the booking,” she said.  “Oh, and don’t worry.  Astrid isn’t handling anything more technical than the takeout order in future.”

“Is she alright?”

“Just embarrassed, really,” said Tink.  “Everyone knows, by the way.  If it’s any consolation, Lacey gave you a gold star.  Actually, I think she gave you five.”

“Right.”  He glanced towards the coffee room, where he could hear the murmur of voices.  “Well.  I guess I’d better go and face them.”

Tink grinned at him, and he sighed and turned on his heel, heading for the door and pushing it open.

“And here he is, the man himself!” announced Jefferson, waving his hand in an elaborate gesture.

Lacey, Astrid and Graham were slouched in the chairs around him, grinning.  The man who called himself Hook was sitting apart from them, apparently engrossed in a magazine, although he glanced up as Gold entered and scowled slightly before looking away.  Was he wearing eyeliner?  Gold supposed it went with the leather outfit.

“Devine, take a seat!” said Jefferson eagerly.  “The lovely Miss Delacoeur has just been telling us about how the two of you tried to fuck each other into a coma.  It sounds like a smutty version of Thunderdome!”

“Only one man entered, though,” said Lacey, with a grin, and Jefferson snickered.

“It was a simple case of mistaken identity,” said Gold evenly.

“It was the shag of the century as far as I was concerned,” said Lacey bluntly. “Most fun I ever had with my clothes off.”

“God, I’m so jealous!” sighed Jefferson.  “My evening consisted of convincing a finance manager that I really wanted a threesome with him and his mistress, so all I have to say to you is—”  He stuck out his tongue, and Lacey smirked.

“Put it away, Sparkle-Pants, I ain’t riding that face.”

“Hey, I’m not jealous of Devine, I’m jealous of you!” protested Jefferson.  “Not that you aren’t a total goddess, of course, but I always wanted to know why he gets so many repeat bookings, and you were the one lucky enough to find out!”

“Perhaps you need some pointers on technique,” said Gold, with a grin, and Jefferson winked at him.

“If you want to pass on your extensive knowledge, I’m ready anytime.”

“Stop flirting with your colleagues,” said Graham, with mock severity.

“That’s not what you were saying last night.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a special exception for boyfriends.”

Jefferson spread his hands.

“I just want to excel in my chosen profession!” he protested.  “You’re always saying I should take more pride in my work.”

“I’m always saying you should clean the kitchen after you cook breakfast, but you never listen to me about that,” said Graham, with a grin.  “Suddenly you’re the next Employee of the Month?”

“Well, if boinking each other is our new way to build team spirit, I’m in.”

“In your dreams,” said Gold dryly, and crossed to the coffee machine.

“Oh, every one of my dreams.”  Jefferson pressed a hand to his heart, batting his eyelids.  “Especially the dirty ones.”

Gold couldn’t help grinning at that, but busied himself making coffee as the conversation thankfully moved on to topics other than his sexual prowess. Lacey appeared at his elbow, chewing her lip nervously.  She had tied up her hair, and was wearing a black top and booty shorts over tights and high-heeled boots.  She smiled a little tremulously.

“Hey,” she said.  “Sorry about that.  Everybody already knew, so - so I thought I’d better sing your praises.”

“It’s okay,” he said, and she wrinkled her nose.

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have told Leroy,” she added thoughtfully.  “That guy couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it.”

“No matter,” he said.  “My only regret is that I lost a night’s pay.”

“Oh, crap.”  She frowned.  “Hey, my guy was a no-show, but I still got paid. Want to split it fifty-fifty?”

Gold shook his head.

“That’s your money,” he said.  “You keep it.”

“But you didn’t make anything!”

“I’ll speak to Miss Blue,” he said.  “She’s always very reasonable about mishaps.  I’m sure I won’t lose out completely on the financial side.”

“Oh, okay.  Cool.”

She chewed her lip, bouncing on her toes a little and looking uncertain, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Was there something else?” he asked gently, and she inhaled deeply, fixing him with a stare.

“I - I just wanted to say thanks,” she said in a rush.  “I wasn’t kidding when I told the others how great you were.”

Gold looked away, unsure how to react to her admission.  He knew he was good; he’d worked hard to become so, but she had made it easy for him too.

“Well, that’s my job,” he said.  “Just as it’s yours.”

“Oh, I know all about technique and all that crap,” she said impatiently.  “I can make a guy lose his mind in a hundred different ways, and I guess you can do the same with a woman, but that’s not what I meant.”

“What is it, then?”

She hesitated, as though she was unsure how to express herself.

“I - I didn’t have to pretend with you,” she said.  “Does that make sense?”

He eyed her for a moment, then nodded.

“I understand.”

“I just - I felt that I could be myself,” she added.  “That I could be Lacey.  I never want to be Lacey, you know?  Not at work.  Sometimes not even outside of work, to be honest, but that’s a whole other story of self-loathing I won’t bore you with.”

Gold stared at her for a moment.  He understood that very well, and he felt again that urge to protect her, to shield her from the world and anyone that might want to harm her.

“We all have our personas,” he said neutrally.  “Sometimes it’s easier to pretend to be someone else.  Someone who can handle what we do.  Even enjoy it.”

She nodded vigorously.

“Anyway, I started out being Belle Delacoeur, but a little way into our time together, I was Lacey again,” she said.  “And - and that never happened before.  I just - I wanted you to know.”

Gold smiled, giving her a tiny bow of his head.

“It was an honour to meet you, Lacey,” he said softly, and she sent him a wobbly smile.

“You too,” she said.  “And - and maybe I could buy you a drink sometime.”

His smile widened.

“Maybe you could.”

“Since we’ve seen each other’s O-face, small talk should be easy, right?” she added, and he blinked.

“You mean - you mean like a date?” he asked blankly, and she shrugged.

“Yeah,” she said.  “If you want.”

She was wavering, an uncertain look in her eyes, the expectation of rejection, and he felt it again, that rush of emotion, the urge to care for her.  He swallowed, nodding.

“I’d like that.”

[ravens-rambling]

It’s time Thomas stops running

A/N: Hey so I got inspired randomly and wrote this. I’m not even sure if this is cannonly how it went down in the au but I was thinking of Spiderverse’s Peter and how he was scared to have kids with MJ, so he ran. Again not sure if this is something Thomas would actually do or not but idk. Also, I just realized this is my first fic with the perspective of Thomas! Would you look at that! Hopefully, I got MJ’s character right XD 

Spiderverse Au belongs to @sugarglider9603 and @ask-spiderverse-virgil

summary: Thomas ran. He's run before and now he’s doing it again. He can’t help it, but last time...last time it ended a friendship. A relationship. And now he’s worried that once again he’ll ruin it. Can one of his sons calm him down enough to face his fears? Or will he run until he can’t run anymore... and find that once again he is alone? 

WC: 2,49

ships: uuhhh idk what the ship name for Thomas and MJ is so yeah, Platonic LAMP, mentions of RED 

warnings: Crying, hurt/comfort, mentions of anxiety attacks, mentions of breakup, 

Tag List: @punsterterry @frostedlover @stormcrawler75 @mutechild @mycatshuman @panicattheeverywhere15 @thewinterbookqueen @analogical-mess   @saddestlittlebabe

Oh, he screwed up, he screwed up badly. Now he’s screwed up a lot of things in his life. Let’s…not go down that gigantic list. The point is right here, right now, he messed up. And he’s not sure if he can fix it this time.

It’s been an issue for a while now if he had to be honest. It’s why his previous boyfriend broke up with him really. But recently it was brought up again and he’s not ready to face it yet again. He’s just not. Sure he has more of a support group going for him this time. But that just means there is more on the line.

More to be scared about. More to worry.

What is the thing he’s oh so worried about?

MJ wants to have a kid.

Now, now, he knows what you’re thinking. Oh, won’t that be good? That would mean taking it to the next step right? MJ loves you that much that he wants to share the love you two have.

That’s not the point.

The point is…is that he’s Spiderman. He’s a hero.

Which means he has a lot of villains that would love to hurt him and anybody he cares about. Also…hes not sure he’s ready for that.

If he had to be honest with himself…he's scared. Scared that he won’t make a good father. Scared that he screwed it up and hurts the kid or MJ, even more than he has right now of course. Scared that this kid would be dragged into his problems. Scared for so so many things.

He’s not sure he can take that on.

Now, of course, he does have well, sort of, four kids now. But he’s trained them well they know how to handle themselves if push comes to shove. But this kid? This kid would be defenseless. This kid won’t know anything about defending itself. MJ, on the other hand, …well he’s MJ he knows full well how to take care of himself. But would he be able to defend their kid if something happens and he can’t get there in time?

He’s not sure…

Now he is not doubting MJ at all. He is strong. Stronger than Thomas could ever dream of being. He has dealt with so much over his life that it puts Thomas’s life to shame. That’s not his worry his worry is the fact that his enemies are supervillains which means they have powers.

No matter how strong MJ is he isn’t superpowered strong.

And heaven forbid if something happens to MJ and their kid? Oh… He doesn’t know if he can take it. It would crush him. Worse than losing the kiddos. Worse than losing himself. He just…can't do that. He can’t risk that.

So what did he do? He ran.

Just like the last time this happened. He ran with his tail between his legs and didn’t look back.

Go on you can say it, he knows it, he’s a coward. A coward that is too scared to face the music. A coward who always runs. A coward who can’t even face his emotions. All he does is run. Run from bad guys. Run from love. Run from a slim chance at a happy life for him. Run from a family.

The last guy he was with…didn’t like that. He didn’t like that he ran and kept running. No… He got tired eventually and kissed their relationship goodbye.

That’s what’s gonna happen with the two right? MJ will realize he is tired of running after him, tired of making sacrifices for a guy that’s not worth the trouble, and finally, move on. Maybe it’s for the best… Maybe…this love thing won’t work out, in the end, no matter what he does…

Yeah… Maybe not…

Thomas glanced down to his phone with another sigh, the same ringtone he has for MJ filling the night air. He breathed out as he ran a hand through his hair and looked back out to the city lights, ignoring it.

Eventually, he’ll get tired of chasing after him…

Eventually-

“There you are.”

With dark, tired, almost teary eyes he looked over his shoulder to see the familiar figure of a white dressed teen with his hoodie up… Virgil…

Maybe he’ll get tired of him eventually too, right?

Maybe he’ll realize he isn’t such a good mentor or dad figure… Maybe they all will realize that someday. Cause that’s what he is… A disappointment.

“Dude? Dude, Earth to Thomas.”

Thomas jumped as he blinked and suddenly Virgil was a lot closer than before but he still kept his distance, thankfully. Slowly Virgil smiled and walked closer to him, and even more slowly took a seat beside him his feet dangling off the edge.

And with that, he took off his mask letting the hood fall down and looked over to Thomas with a small smile his hair all over the place and a worried look in his dark brown eyes, “What’s up, dad? MJ is pretty worried after you stormed off. Well, actually that’s an understatement more like frantically calling between all our phones and yelling our ears off when we pick up.”

His heart pricked with worry and anger at himself at hearing how frantic MJ is. He’s never like that even when he isn’t home after a few nights…

Yeah… A runner…

“It’s just…” He sighed and looked back towards the city breathing in and out. Virgil was silent as he gathered up his thoughts. Thankfully he didn’t look at him as he did so simply looking out at the city as well. They sat there for a few minutes enjoying the silence. Until Thomas broke it again.

“You know I love you guys right?”

“Yeah? Like kids yes we know.”

“Do… Do you know why I broke it off with my last boyfriend?”

“He wasn’t good enough for you?”

“No… No that wasn’t it… Not at all…”

He took a shaky breath. Guess he’ll have to actually say it. He’s never really talked about this, not to a single soul…

“The reason was…he wanted to have kids… A-And I got scared. I got scared cause I knew the risks and I wasn’t ready. I’m still not…”

“And MJ wanted that? To have kids?”

“Yeah… That’s what he wanted to talk about. He thought we could adopt. Even showed me some pictures of these cute kids from that nice orphanage but it just… I’m still not ready, Virgil. I don’t think I’ll ever be. And that’s not fair for MJ. He deserves better he deserves-”

“Now I’m gonna stop you right there, dad.”

The serious tone of the teen made Thomas whip towards him. He’s never heard Virgil this serious before. And oh boy the spark that went through the kid's eyes. Yep, he’s deadly serious.

“First off, self-deprecation is my thing. Don’t go stealing my thing. Second off, this is MJ. He will understand more than you know trust me, okay? He’s not like the last guy. If you are serious about never wanting kids MJ will never leave you just for that, you got it? MJ isn’t like that and never will be. Third off, who says you won’t be a good dad? I mean you have four teens right? And yes,” He cut off Thomas as he opened his mouth, “with you being a superhero and everything there are even more risks. But honestly… Thomas,” His eyes grew teary at this one and he breathed out.

“You are the best dad anybody can ask for. You are the best boyfriend anybody can ask for. Most importantly,” He paused at this and smiled reaching forward to touch Thomas’s leg, “You are the best friend anybody could ask for.”

Oh… Oh dear…

Before Thomas could even help it or realize what he was doing he started crying hard. Tears tore down his cheeks. And before he could stop himself he lunged at Virgil his arms wrapping around the thin male as he sobbed harshly.

“There, there dad. It’s gonna be alright. Oh and I forgot to mention, this kid, they won’t have just you and MJ protecting them. They will have all four of us, I’m sure even Dolion, Remy, and Emile, will be on their asses if they so much as touch your kid. Understand?”

That made Thomas cry even harder. All his fears all his worries Virgil just presented on the table and he cleared through every one of them. He didn’t know where his son got so intelligent but oh boy was it something. Even he was impressed…

Yeah… He was impressed with his son.

They spent what felt like hours up on that tall building the background of the city and his cries the only thing that filled the air. Virgil holding him the entire time even rocking them gently and playing with Thomas' hair to ground him… Just like what he does during one of Virgil’s attacks…

Until finally his sobs quieted down until it was just hiccups. Very slowly he started breathing back to his normal self again.

“You okay there?”

“Y-Yeah… Sorry for crying on you.”

“Hey, 'tis payback for all the times I’ve cried on you. So we’re good now.”

Thomas chuckled as he drew away from their hug grimacing as he saw all the tears and snot on Virgil’s outfit, “Sorry about that. I’ll do the laundry this time.”

Virgil looked down and chuckled waving his hand, “No, it’s fine dad. I’m serious. Also, your laundry detergent isn’t very good anyways. I’ll take at least three loads to get this out if I leave it to you.”

“Yep… Sounds about right,” He laughed as he wiped his eyes then sighed again.

“Thank you, Virge… For all of that… It meant a lot to me.”

“Yeah, sure whatever. Don’t tell Roman I got all sentimental I’ll never hear the end of it. Now,” He put back on his mask as he stood up. Thomas glanced up to see him extending a hand and though he couldn’t see his lips he could tell he was smiling.

With his own smile, he took it and stood up.

“You have a boyfriend to talk to,” And with that, he did his signature two-fingered wave and ran off the side of the building. Thomas watched as he slingshotted through the night air.

He supposes he does…

With new found energy in his eyes, he put on his mask and started making his way towards MJ's place. Though before he does he's got to make one detour…

Once he got to his door he breathed out a nervous breath. Would MJ be angry at him for just leaving quickly like that? Would he forgive him for just bailing? Oh, maybe this was a mistake… Maybe-

The door opened and his heart skipped a beat as he saw the familiar orange curls and his freckled face, though his heart stopped for a completely other reason when he saw the tear stains going down that same freckled cheeks.

“Thomas! Oh god. I was so worried,” And before Thomas could even take a breath again he was practically tackled to the floor in a hug and his eyes pricked with tears once again, “Don’t ever do that again! I thought you were mad at me! Or worse that you got hurt somewhere since you weren’t answering any of our calls. Oh god were you hurt? Please tell me you weren’t hurt. Oh god-”

“MJ. MJ, I’m fine I promise,” Thomas chuckled.

“Good… Okay… You don’t look like your injured… Yeah…” Now he was backing up from the hug tears still coming down. Then he huffed and smacked his arm playfully and gently.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For making me worry you selfish little prick! I thought you were angry at me and never coming back. God… Thomas, I thought I would never see you again…”

And if that didn’t break Thomas' heart he didn’t know what would. He felt like his heart was bleeding as he gulped.

“Well… Virgil helped me… And… We have something to discuss… Well, a lot of things but first…” He showed the huge flower bouquet that was hidden behind his back, it was covered with different colors of roses. All the colors of the rainbow. He smiled as he waited for the others reaction as he mumbled, “This is for making you worried. I’m sorry.”

MJ gasped loudly and started crying even harder which caused Thomas to suddenly get worried all over again.

“No, wait! You're not supposed to cry! Why are you crying? Do you not like it? I can return it! I just thought-”

“Shut up you gay disaster and kiss me.”

“Wait what-”

Before he could finish his sentence lips smacked against his with a loud thud noise. Thomas slowly closed his eyes as he wrapped his arms around MJs waist. They leaned into each other as the kiss ticked by. And slowly all the tension and nervousness that engulfed Thomas bones just a moment ago evaporated just like that. MJ wasn’t mad with him.

He came chasing after him…

And just as soon as the kiss started it ended and they both looked at each other their eyes sparkling with energy for each other. And they smiled and giggled.

“Okay, pretty boy get inside so we can talk and so I can put these roses in a vase. I’m sure the neighbors would love to hear more of our little conversation.”

“Yeah… That sounds lovely.”

With that MJ took Thomas free hand and led him inside. They certainly did have a lot to talk about, but Thomas wasn’t as scared or worried about it as before. He felt a certain calm through his body as he stepped into the house and closed the door.

Yeah...He's not running again.

“Did he go in?”

“Yes, Roman, he went in.”

“He did? Yay! I was so worried about him.”

“Yes, Pat you won’t shut up about it. Can we please get out of this bush now? Roman, you are on top of me.”

“Oh, hush nerd. You complain too much.”

“Now now boys don’t argue. Yes, Lo-Lo we can leave now.”

“Thank god.”

As the two teens left one grumbling while the other yelled at him the pastel wearing teen paused in his tracks.

“Virge?”

“Yeah?”

“Nice work. I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks, Pat.”

[coffee-for-himchan]

I Think I Can Forgive You (Jongup mafia/gang AU pt.3)

Word count: 4.3 k+ (a short one right there)

Genre/warnings: Mafia/ gang AU (Literally no warnings this time around. No violence, (hopefully) no swear words. This chapter is just a fluffy reunion)

Summary: He’d saved you, and was now standing on the edge of nowhere. You had all the rights to be mad at him. To be disgusted by the mere sight of his face, and to despise him to the last bone. Yet he wanted nothing more than to simply experience only the comfort your caring touch and loving remarks could provide. For the first time in his life, he decided to act differently - to not forcefully keep you around, but to willingly let you go. Because, after all, if you truly loved him and would be able to forgive him, you would eventually find your way back into his arms.

(A/N) Hey, the final part is finally here! I posted two parts in a day, so make sure you read part two first before reading this one! Hope you enjoy this one just as much as anything else I’ve written, and, if you haven’t done so already, check out my other mafia/gang-themed stories - at this point I have a decent amount of them, and there’s going to be more in the nearest future.

THIS IS PART 3 // PART 1 CAN BE FOUND HERE // PART 2 IS HERE

It didn’t take too long to end this. B.A.P was “The King” for a reason, after all, and soon the scenery was cleared. Before the police sirens could reach them, the six guys re-united into formation and left the scene, as if nothing had happened.

One of the six carrying a tiny, shivering frame in his arms, holding onto it as if it meant the whole world to him.

You weren’t quite aware of your surroundings at that point anymore, as nothing quite mattered. Your head felt heavy, and you simply struggled to keep your eyes open. He carried you all the way back to the base, refusing to let anyone help him even though the way back was quite long and he was exhausted, physically and emotionally. He made sure you were alright, warming you up, making you comfortable, and staying by your side, saying his first ever prayer to God that you would be alright.

And, being a little selfish, praying you would come back to him as well.

It was Himchan who you saw first the next morning. He didn’t need to introduce himself, as you’d seen him around. The base seemed to be otherwise empty, and you wondered where Jongup had gone to, but didn’t dare to ask. You were still too hurt and too afraid of him.

“I’ve arranged a few things,” Himchan told you, sitting down on the bed beside you, “And it should be enough for now.”

He gave you two keys - one for a car, and another one for an apartment. He gave you a job contract and a few documents regarding your education that he assured were accurate to your abilities. He gave you enough money to survive for the nearest future, and told you not to hesitate in case you wanted to contact him or any of the other guys about anything.

You stared at him in disbelief. Not because of the amount of ties he had with different types of people, and how fast he could settle things others couldn’t get done in months, but because he actually let you off. He’d just built you a life in less than a few hours, and simply let you off as if nothing had happened.

“And.. Jongup-ah?”

“I think he’s going to need some time,” Himchan explained, looking you in the eyes.

“Don’t get me wrong - I’m not saying he did the right thing for toying around with you like he did when you had memory loss, and I’m not defending him, as none of us are completely good guys who always act according to morals, but.. He truly loves you, the way he’s never loved anyone before. I could tell you all about him - how his family died, and how he got forced to be a part of a gang. How he betrayed them afterwards for ruining his life, and how I took him in, hoping to somehow be able to mend his pain, and succeeding to some extents. How he lost his brother just a little while ago, and many other things.. He’s been though more than simply “a lot”, and I’m not trying to make you pity him or anything, because pity is the thing he hates the most anyways. Just know he may have a few screws missing, but that’s only because life had been harsh to him, not sparing any of the people who truly mattered to him. His heart, when needed, is still in the right place. And he simply wanted to keep you by his side and keep you safe this whole time.”

Before you knew it, you were dropped off at the new place by no other than Himchan. Yongguk had joined along to help sort the last things out, but there was no sight of the other four. You glanced up at the two men unpacking a few things from boxes and setting the contents of those up, as well as taking calls and planning out the rest of the things you would still need. Maybe it was because these two were the only ones who could truly be considered men, the other four simply still being little boys at heart. You almost caught yourself smiling at the thought of Jae and Dae fighting over who will carry what box, and Junhong standing in the middle of this mess quietly, patiently waiting for any orders from Bang before moving. And Jongup, stealing kisses every time he passed by, being the last addition that really made this place seem like home.

Not. That had been a lie, and it will forever be. It was in the past.

By afternoon you had a new life set up for you completely. Himchan and Yongguk left at around four, saying their goodbyes as if they were seeing you for the last time in their lives. Which, at this point, was a possibility that could happen.

“It’s up to you to decide what you’re going to do now,” Himchan told you right before leaving, having Yongguk nod at each and single one of his statements, “All of this is yours now, without any consequences or anything. Let this be a gift, we’re quite nice actually, if we want to be. As for Jongup..”

He trailed off, knowing this was a hard topic for everybody. You didn’t know where Jongup was or what he was doing at that moment, but you would’ve never guessed he was still sitting at the base, without a place to go back to now, his face buried deep in his hands as he tried to hold in the mixture of frustration and sorrow. You weren’t aware of how much he regretted all he did, and you didn’t know how he simply wished none of this had ever happened.

Not because he was immensely hurting now - he didn’t quite care about that. Because you were.

“He will always be waiting, you know,” Himchan smiled sadly, knowing he could talk on and on for ages about it, but it would be still up to you to decide if you ever wanted to see him again, “But he won’t be coming after you himself. If you ever feel like you’ll be able to forgive him.. Even if not fully, but at least to some extent..”

“He would love to see you again. You’re the only person he’ll be waiting for,” Yongguk finished it for Himchan, making him sigh in relief a little. Good thing Yongguk knew how to cut Himchan’s long, emotional speeches off at the right moment.

At first you decided to sleep it off, because you were still so tired, which lead to you waking up at 3 AM and not being able to fall asleep again. Strolling through the still unfamiliar apartment, you found yourself slightly shivering and sneezing. The cold from yesterday had really done it’s thing, but Himchan was aware of that, and had already arranged a doctor’s visit for the next morning for you, so you figured you had nothing to worry about.

Sitting in the kitchen and sipping of tea, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to Jongup.

He would’ve be right there, by your side - that is, if none of this had ever happened. His eyes would be falling shut, and you’d chuckle softly, telling him to go to bed and sleep it out. But he would insist, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning his head against yours, not letting you have any type of negative thoughts at such a late hour, cutting his precious sleep short in order to stay up with you. He would make sure you were alright before doing anything else, and you would thank all of the higher forces that made you end up with him at some point.

How comes you kept thinking that it would’ve been better to never remember and simply continue living a lie?

After all, the incident had only sparked your memories of the first time you saw him - the time you were simply going back from a family gathering, and happened to stumble upon the wrong people at the wrong time. He could’ve gotten hurt, and he had absolutely no need to save you back then. But, for some reason, he still did. You remember feeling scared by how sharp his aim was, and a little disgusted by the fact he enjoyed dropping bodies to the floor, but.. His chest seemed like such a safe place, and you also recalled clinging onto him. Not begging him for help or anything, but still receiving some.

It all came back to you - all of those moments spent together, and suddenly you realized he hadn’t done a single bad thing to harm you during this whole time. He was super sweet and patient. Awkwardly cute. A little out of this world, and you’d constantly tease him about it, but he knew you loved it nonetheless.

He let you take your time. Made sure you were comfortable with everything before doing it. Always put himself out there to a hundred percent, and each day loved you just the way you craved to be loved. He had no issues changing up paces, and would never complain if you wanted to take a different approach than he did.

The thought of him left you crying in the middle of the night in the kitchen, as he hadn’t done anything bad or wrong. Except of lying to you, and not telling you he was a cold-blooded gang member and killer instead of the guy next door you always thought he was. And you wondered - should you really trust yourself with all of these thoughts you were having?

After all, the background information might have been fake, but his love for you wasn’t. And neither was your love for him.

Unlike the flowers in the vase that was placed on the kitchen table in front of you, your feelings for him wouldn’t wilt. He’d made his existence in your heart and soul way too vivid and too permanent. You knew all of this was for the better - he wasn’t worth it, probably. Wasn’t worth the pain and the doubts. Yet you knew you wouldn’t be able to fully let him go, no matter how much time passed. 

He’d told you that you’d forever be his babygirl, and there was no point in lying and saying he wouldn’t always remain your Jongup-ah.

Days passed, and Jongup kept staying at the base. He had no intentions or desire to move or do anything, as the only reason he kept going on had seemingly faded away from his life completely. Himchan would nag and poke at him, but eventually realize it was completely useless. They had a hard time at first, dealing with different unpleasant situations without Jongup present, but Himchan knew better than to hurry him and his emotional healing up. Whenever one of the guys gave a piece of their minds on how they were out there, risking their lives while Jongup was at the base, doing nothing but staring at the ceiling, Himchan would always shut them up. He knew all Jongup needed was time, and was willing to give all of it to him so he could properly recover.

It took three months.

Jongup sighed, hearing a knock at his door. This new place Youngjae had found seemed to be just a little smaller than his old one, and was located in a quite nice, little, but most of all - quiet - neighborhood, but it still didn’t seem like it could ever become a place he could consider calling “home”. It was a place the guys had forcefully got him to live in, since his constant presence at the base had become a little irritating, and he hated the fact he was made to come and stay here by the others, but he knew they were right. It looks like it was about time to move on.

He ran a hand through his hair, quickly glancing at himself in the nearby mirror before going to answer the door. His hair had sure grown out a little, and even though he’d cut it again recently, he hadn’t dyed it again, and wasn’t completely sure if he liked this black-roots aesthetic that he had going on now. But hey - maybe this was a sign as well. Maybe when all the jet blue hair would grow out and he’d cut it all off, he’d be able to let go of the fact he’d be left with boring, natural black again.

Maybe you’d slowly “grow your way out” of his heart as well, although he doubted it more and more every passing second. It was absurd comparing his love for you with a hair color. He could dye his hair all he wants to, but he couldn’t get you back that easy. You had to eventually come around yourself if you wanted to.

He rolled up his sleeves, not bothering to take a look at who was standing on the other side of the door. In his line of work, that was a quite dangerous thing to do, but he could care less. No one knew he was here anyways, at this point, at least. So, this was probably either Himchan or Youngjae, as they had both turned into some type of personal psychiatrists over the last months, irritating Jongup slightly with their never ending question and worry, but making him glad someone cared.

He opened the door right as he heard something falling and hitting the ground behind him, making him direct his stare at the box that had just crashed onto the floor. Too bad he’d gotten a load of new things for the apartment earlier this morning, and had spent most of the day unpacking them and setting them up. Praying that wasn’t one of the lamps, he slowly turned his head back to the slightly opened door, just to be met with a pair of the most beautiful eyes in the universe.

All of his senses left his body for a second, making him paralyzed and unable to breathe or move. His eyes watched the ones in front of him in disbelief, remembering the last time he saw the same sight in front of him. Except then the only thing those eyes displayed was utter fear and confusion, as well as deep hurt and sadness, completely opposite from the emotions displayed in them now.

“Hey, Jongup-ah..”

Jongup-ah. His thoughts kept screaming at him that he had to respond, but he was simply unable to do so. You were right there in front of him, at a distance he could reach and touch you with ease, without even stretching his arm out fully. So what was it that made him stay in place and kept him from basically throwing himself at you?

“H-hey.. B-babyg-.. I mean, (Y/N)..”

You smiled warmly at him, recognizing this sight from somewhere. It didn’t take you long to remember the day you saw him at the hospital, with the same plaid shirt hanging around his frame and making him look like he was straight out of a magazine, even though the clothing item itself was so ordinary it hurt - he just somehow knew how to make it look amazing on him. His stare was just as confused and lost as the first time you locked eyes with him, and, just the same as then, he was clueless on what to do. Except this time around he wasn’t this lost and nervous because he had to tell a perfect lie, no. This time around he was seemingly given a chance to fix up his lies and mistakes, and he patiently stood there, waiting for any further events or actions.

“I heard you had gotten a new place..” you said, looking away shyly and scratching the back of your head as he watched you, completely astonished by the fact you’d managed to forgive him enough to at least come and say a few words to his face.

“Yeah, I couldn’t quite stay in the old one, sadly.. It’s been ruined beyond belief as well, so there was no point in trying to keep it anyways.” Only now you noticed how he’d changed over this short amount of time. How he looked the way he really was - as if life had taken him in first, giving him a nice and warm place to stay at before throwing him out on the street without anything left, breaking a few of his bones in the process and telling him there was no one ever who could love him, because he was a monster. His face displayed utter tiredness - the one you couldn’t simply sleep off, and for some reason he seemed to have become more buff as well. Little did you know that the only thing keeping him from throwing tantrums on most evenings or crying himself to sleep were physical activities.

“You’d been there since then?”

“Only once. I wanted to pick up a few things,” he said, feeling his voice cracking mid-sentence a little, “Some paperwork that I needed. There was still a gun or two around, one of them being my father’s old one - a valued possession in my family.. There were still some of our pictures on the walls, I couldn’t leave them there either..”

It was another moment in time, where you considered if he’d break down or not. Figuring out he wouldn’t, you still thought his face displayed more than well the fact he wanted to do it so badly - to let shaky sobs escape him while he, himself, clung onto your frame desperately, pleading you not to leave. Making sure you wouldn’t slip away again.

“What happened to “babygirl”, by the way? Didn’t you say I’ll always be your babygirl?” you saw him running his fingers through his hair once again, tilting his head up not to let a tear slip.

Nothing had happened to her, as she was right there. Standing in front of him, and giving him a clear chance. A chance to let her know.

“Babygirl, I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done.” // “Jongup-ah, it’s okay. I think I can forgive you.”

Those two sentences left your mouths simultaneously, and left both of you a little shocked. You’d kind of expected to hear something among those lines from him, but he didn’t think he’d ever hear those words escape your mouth ever again, so when he did, he didn’t know how to react.

“Say that again.”

“I think I can forgive you,” you quietly announced, starting to feel a little awkward. He was still so hesitant about this, and you knew his reasons. He had hurt you badly, and made sure you came back to him by yourself. He made sure he wasn’t getting in your way on purpose or putting pressure on you, and made sure to give you tons of space. He stayed away, and waited, knowing if you’d forgive him you’d come and find him yourself, and if not, you’d lead a happy life somewhere else, without having destruction itself by your side to keep you company in the evenings. He was okay with anything you chose. As long as it made you happy.

The tear slipped, leaving a trail behind as it slowly slid down his cheek, and you hesitantly lifted your hand up a bit, flinching a little as you carefully wiped it away because of how hot his skin seemed against your cold hand. Letting your hand rest there, you waited. Not knowing if it was appropriate to do anything else yet, but hoping he’d take the initiative soon enough.

“B-babygirl,” he quietly muttered before leaning down a little, wrapping his arms tightly around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You’d noticed that you both had been standing right in the middle of the doorway only when he pulled you inside his home fully, letting the door shut behind you itself. If it was for any other occasion, you’d tell him to take it easier on you, as his grip had always seemed rather firm and a little too bone-crushing, his recent routine of training not helping to solve that issue at all, but this time around you didn’t mind. You knew he needed this badly.

You felt yourself being pinned back against the door, and lifted your head up a little, poking at his ear with you nose as he refused to show his face to you, keeping it buried in your soft skin. There were more tears coming out of him, you were certain - if the few constant shaky sobs weren’t enough of an indicator, the feeling of something wet hitting you collarbone every once in a while was.

“Jongup-ah, take it easy,” you cooed at him, holding him by the waist with one arm while your other hand trailed up to be gently placed on the back of his head, “It’s alright, do you hear?”

And he did a told, just as always when the commands came from you. It took him some time to collect himself, but when he did and finally managed to look up at you, his eyes showed relief, and the smile displayed on his face indicated that the burden he’d been carrying for so long now had finally been taken off of his shoulders.

“I’ve become so emotional recently, I don’t even know why,” he chuckled a little, making you chuckle as well, knowing he’d finally let the situation sink in, “Or rather, I don’t know what to do about it. I just keep on crying.”

“Just don’t show it to the guys, they might tease you about it,” you told him, poking his nose with yours and making him smile a little wider.

“Let this be our secret, okay?”

“Okay,” you answered before feeling it was the right moment to show him to what extent he was forgiven.

The moment you kissed him, you remembered why you decided to show up here in first place. Why you decided to go and see him, heading down to his old apartment first just to find out he hadn’t been there since that faithful night anymore. Why you decided to contact Himchan in order to ask him where Jongup was, and why, despite all of your sane thoughts that kept screaming at you to turn and run away, you ended up here. In his arms, with his mouth on yours yet again.

He was far from being a good guy. He wasn’t all that emotionally stable, which is exactly the thing that made him so dangerous. He had lied to you, more than you could’ve ever imagined, and you knew all of that.

But he had loved you as well, and would always do so. He’d saved you to begin with, and did it a few more times in the process. He kept you safe and well. He took care of you and let you be the only person to see him the way he truly was - without any additional fakery or facades around him.

He let you see the true Jongup-ah you had fallen in love with, and the one, no matter who he was and what he did, you wanted to have by your side. Forever.

“I’ll make it all up,” he said in between kisses, making you chuckle, “I really will. I don’t know how you can even fix something like this up, but I will find a way. Babygirl, I’ll make you believe me again. I’ll prove myself to the fact I won’t ever lie to you again-”

“One step at a time,” you cut him off with another sweet kiss, holding his face close to yours after your lips parted again, “Let’s start off slow and easy, okay?”

“Take a rest, Jongup-ah, and don’t break your head over sorting everything out all at once. Your mind has been running circles recently and it isn’t going to be good for your health or well-being.”

“But I have to make you trust me first,” he said, looking at your smiling face with eyes that displayed seriousness, “Otherwise I won’t be able to function properly because you’ll still think that all I ever told you was lies.”

“I have my reasons to assume that, you know. My mind was telling me to let you go, but my heart refused. And you know why?” you smiled a little more as you saw him shaking his head in disapproval, as he felt like there wasn’t anything about him special enough for you to come back to him.

“There might still be many aspects I don’t know about. Many things I have no clue of, or am uncertain about. But two things I know for sure - one being the fact that you love me with all of your fucked up heart,” Jongup couldn’t suppress the chuckle that escaped him after hearing you say it out loud. Himchan, that bastard. He must’ve told you.

“And what about the other?”

“The other thing I know for sure it that despite everything, my feelings for you are true as well, because you made me develop them right there and then over our short amount of time spent together. They’re memories that weren’t simply told to me and that I had to believe, but memories I gathered myself along the way. You made me fall in love with you, Jongup-ah. By deeds and not untrue statements and words without meaning.”

“..And, through everything that will still come out way, let me stay by your side and simply help me remember. All of the wrong turns so we won’t ever take another one.”

That night he returned to the base, just to pick up a few personal belongings he wanted to have at home rather than there. No one besides Himchan seemed to be there, and, as he saw Jongup just casually picking up his things and leaving instead of trying to mend his pain and anger with physical activities or trainings to get better at his aim, he questioned him about it. But there was no need to do so, as it was already written all across his face. All noticeable in the way he smiled truly for the first time in months - smiled as if the world was nothing but a playground, and he was a little kid, left unattended by his parents and, even though in danged of hurting himself at every obstacle, still climbed everywhere and simply had a lot of fun. Living it to the fullest.

“She’s back, Himchan hyung. She’s back.”

[roguesandsaviors]

Readying The Troops

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Characters: Negan, Emilia Rogers (OFC)

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 1,979

Author’s Note: So, this is my first time publishing a one shot on tumblr. It belongs in a series. Hopefully you guys like it. I know that thr background of the OC is vague and not really explained. More will be better explained as time goes on. Thanks for your patience!

The supply run wasn’t exactly something that was necessary. Well to the eyes of most. To me it was. As twisted and fucked up as I was in the head, and that was saying something considering I was majorly screwed in the head, there were certain things that mattered to me. It wasn’t easy to find what I was looking for but I managed to after several hours of looking and traveling. On a solo run, I had plenty of space in the truck to load the supplies without having to leave behind anything. A couple walkers were in the way but they were easily taken care of with the hatchet that I kept on me. Too easy really. I had been hoping for a bit of a challenge, a chance to stretch out my muscles and get a bit messy. Shame that I didn’t run into any strangling survivors. 

As soon as I got back to the compound, the gates were opened and I grabbed the few bags and hurried towards one of the rooms that we used as a garage. I was barely given a second glance, those that did stare clearly didn’t know better yet but they would learn. The others would make sure that they were brought up to speed and if not, well I still had some excess energy to use. 

I just needed a few bullet casings, screwdrivers, and some malleable thin metal. We had plenty of those sort of supplies laying around. Then the plan would be seen through. Several men were scattered around the room but quickly stood and bowed their heads when I entered the room. With a look that told them what I wanted from them, the men scurried to the door to leave me to my own devices, allowing me to work in peace. Word would get around that I was back and soon enough, I knew that I would have some visitors. Well one in particular.  

I aimed down the barrel and pulled the trigger just as I heard the heavy foot falls enter the room. There was only one person that it would be and at the moment, I was more interested in the toys that I had in my hand. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Setting the object down with a satisfied grin, I turned my attention to the tank of helium that I managed to find along with it. I filled up the balloons one by one, fifteen of them for now. A low growl like sound registered behind me and I knew that the man was frustrated that I hadn’t answered him. “You gonna answer me?” 

“Kids need to learn how to shoot. We need a safe way of doing it. Here is your answer.” I picked back up the nerf gun with a wide grin on my face. Negan cocked a brow, clearly unimpressed. “They need to know how to defend themselves if shit was to happen. This is a way of making sure that no one ends up with a fucking bullet in their leg.” 

“Those pieces of shit can’t shoot accurately.” I spun on my heel and aimed at one of the balloons that sat fifteen feet away. The rubber dart hit the face that I had drawn dead between the eyes. 

“Modified them. Took out the air restrictors, reinforced the casings and springs, made sure that everything moved smoothly. Used to do this shit all the time as a kid. Ended up modifying one enough that it shot bb’s. Ended up killing a neighbor’s cat with it by the time I was nine.” That gave him pause. He didn’t say anything but moved over to take the one out of my hand. I passed it over to him without any sort of fight and he aimed down the barrel to take a shot of his own. It landed clearly where he wanted it to.  

“You had some sort of fucked up childhood.” 

“Honey, you don’t know the half of it.” The grin remained on my face as I gathered up the toys into the bag once again.  

“Why don’t we go celebrate? Me, you, my bed.” I rolled my eyes and turned to face the man once more, crossing my arms over my chest as I had to once again turn down the offer that was being made. He would never learn. I was lucky I was as good of a shot as I was, as ruthless and fucked as I was. Add onto the fact that the past three years had seen us spent more time together and kill more walkers than anyone else. Otherwise I would have ended up at the business end of Lucille, something that I really didn’t want to handle. I had my own anger issues and fucked up ways of dealing with the fucked up world we lived in but that didn’t mean that I was ready to die. 

“How about you take one of those slips of women that you keep by your room and enjoy the night with them?” I cocked a brow. “Because it ain’t ever happening.” In those three years, he had been trying to get me into bed and it still wasn’t working. There were more important things to focus on besides getting laid, though he didn’t seem to think so. Which was fine, let him sleep with all the women he wanted. I wasn’t going to be added to the tally count. 

His brow furrowed and I could tell that there was a simmering anger underneath the surface. There always was when I turned him down. I had learned to recognize it and work around it. I rolled my eyes and passed him a pack of cigarettes that I had found on the run. It didn’t take much, a couple spare things picked up that no one else knew about and he was back to his normal, jolly self and pleased with me. 

“Found those out there. There are two more packs in the bag. Shit is getting harder and harder to fucking find.” He opened the pack and smelled them. Fresh really, seeing as they had still been in the plastic wrapping. Some of the things that we found were half opened, which was dangerous but addiction was addiction after all wasn’t it? He wasn’t going to pass by a pack because it was left behind half used. “I’m gonna set up the working room tomorrow to give the kids their first lesson. You want Simon or Dwight in on this?” I was a better shot than both of them and while I held my own position of power, men will be men. Especially in our new little world order. 

“Fuck no. If anyone is teaching the little shits to shoot, it is going to be you.” I nearly snorted out my laughter at his reaction. Well, good to know that he thought so highly of his men and actually nice to know that his opinion of my skills was so high. “Toys or not. They ain’t got shit on your accuracy.”  

“If they would clean their fucking ears out and listen to the advice that I gave them for once, they would be able to shoot better.  What is it with men and being unable to take advice from a woman huh?” It wasn’t so much a question aimed at him as much as it was a rhetorical one. Men liked to think that I didn’t know what I was talking about but most quickly learned their lesson after I shot at them a couple of times and had them pissing their pants. “Both of them hold the fucking gun wrong.” I mumbled a bit, the subject one that annoyed me more than I cared to admit. Watching someone purposely do something wrong just to avoid listening to me pushed every button and nerve ending that I had. I couldn’t give a shit about them ending their own lives and becoming walkers but it endangered everyone else if they couldn’t handle the situation or missed a shot because they were assholes. I rather liked the sanctuary that we set up and that wasn’t allowed to go down the drain. We had power, respect, and other people doing a lot of work for us. It was a fantastic set up. 

“Let them get their fucking faces chewed off then.” He placed a cigarette between his lips. “What time are you setting up? We have to head to Hilltop tomorrow.” Shit, I forgot about the run we were making to the settlement. Which he would surely know by the way that I went ridged for just a split second. 

“Heading over early right?” 

“Yeah. Probably not too long after sunrise.” 

“Guess when we get back then. Not missing that trip.” Once more, he was all grins and I could feel more tension leak from my shoulders. “Too much fun watching them run in a panic.” Really, we weren’t well in the head but most of the time I really didn’t think either of us realized it quite as much as maybe we should have. Others got to see the full brunt of it where as when we watched each other, there was more of an enjoyment, much more amusement than those that held respect and fear within themselves.  

“You know none of the kids are gonna be able to focus longer than five minutes right?” I wasn’t really known for my patience but none of the men knew how well I could handle children. Maybe that stemmed from my own childhood or maybe it was the one piece of me that came close to resembling normal that hadn’t been lost in the hellhole of a world that we lived in.That wouldn’t be kept a secret for too much longer from the men.  

“Don’t expect any of them to be able to shoot worth a shit. That’s why they are going to learn. Gonna make it easier when they get a bit older and can finally go on runs. Rather have the bullet end up in the skull of the sniveling mess that sits in front of you rather than in my own fucking back.” It would be fun for them too, if I was being honest with myself. Give them a good distraction and something other than the four walls to stare at. “Do something productive.” He nodded, a sign of agreement from him.  

“They can practice on walkers and anyone outside the walls.”  

“Once they are old enough to be trusted with a gun sure. This will prep them better and ensure that less time is spent when they are old enough. Speeds up the whole process, safely for us. Keeps the little shits moving and less likely to get in trouble too.” Walkers or not, kids would be kids and a five year old could cause more trouble than either of us thought possible. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll see how it goes tomorrow.” It was all but permission to do what I was going to do anyway. But it helped to have his backing that was for sure. It meant less hassle for me when it came to other men around the compound.  

“I’m going to drop this shit over there now. Usual meeting tonight?”  

“Yeah. I’ll see ya in the cafeteria then.” He finally left the room, just as I was pulling the bag over my shoulder. Shaking my head, I moved in the opposite direction to drop off the supplies. I had to switch gears, get my mind ready for the trip to Hilltop. The dead were one thing but the living were an entirely different beast. Unpredictable and desperate, it made them much more dangerous than any walker out there. I kept on my game to keep myself and Negan safe. 

@ladylorelitany