#Here I am teasing a new artwork that will probably never see the light of day

[demaparbat-hp]

Coming up

[folkloreguk]

Paris (optional bias)

A/N: This is just something short I’ve had in my drafts for so long and I’ve finally finished it...there’s not much storyline but I swear it’s really sweet and I hope you like it x

genre: photographer!bias, suggestive themes, some kissing and cuddling, just two people on holiday and deeply in love tbh (pls send me some tissues)

words: 1.4 k

“Stay still baby,” he demanded, but not in a rough tone. It was gentle, a little sleepy. You chuckled, hearing the familiar click.

“You look so gorgeous in this light,” he mumbled, his face hidden behind his camera. The curtains of the hotel room were pulled away slightly, so the golden evening light could enter. You were going to get up, but now you fell back into bed, giving in to your boyfriend. Your hair was messy, your makeup even messier. Your clothes were everywhere but on your body.

For a moment you gazed at your boyfriend as he tried to photograph you from the perfect angle. He’d always preferred watching the world through a lens rather than just his eyes. Until you had come along. In you, he had found a new challenge. Oh, how many times you had heard him complain about how he couldn’t seem to capture your beauty in a photo. As if you were some part of nature that simply was too beautiful to fit into a picture. He had compared you to the night sky, a roaring waterfall, the light of the setting sun and fireworks – all his favourite things, basically. Although you didn’t agree. When it was hard to see your beauty in the mirror, one look at the collection of photos on your wall sufficed. Seeing yourself through his eyes made you feel like you were enough. More than enough, in fact. You understood a little better what he saw in you, and slowly you had also started seeing the good, beautiful things in yourself.

It had been a year since he had asked you to be his girlfriend. For your anniversary, you had booked a trip – your first holiday together, in fact. Now it was just the two of you, together, in a strange city. Without a care in the world. That’s what you had agreed on.

You spent your time in bed, exploring the streets where even tourists weren’t found, trying all of the local food and then spending more time in bed. As always, your boyfriend couldn’t put his camera down. Not even in his holidays. But you didn’t mind because you knew it made him happy. And when he was happy, so were you.

His hair was probably even messier than yours, but it made you smile to know you had made it that way. He grinned, watching you through his lens.

“Can I please go to the bathroom now?” you asked, stretching on top of the blankets.

“If you come back quickly,” he answered, and you laughed.

“Don’t worry,” you joked. Your legs were a little weak as you got up. You could still feel where he had touched you, making your cheeks heat up.

When you entered the bedroom again, he had taken your spot on the bed. The last sun rays were now catching in his sparkling eyes, tangling in his hair and dunking his skin in a golden, glowing light. His bare chest was rising and falling steadily and he had draped the sheets over his lower body lazily. He looked at you as if you were the rarest sight in the world, some mythical creature only the luckiest got the chance to encounter once in a lifetime and like you held all the answers to the universe all at once. An overwhelming feeling of love overcame you at the sight of him.

As soon as your leg touched the bed, he opened his arms for you. Smiling, you clung to him as he stroked your hair and kissed your forehead. Even though you were thousands of miles away, you had never felt more at home than in that moment. Your safe place was wherever he was.

Softly, his hands wandered across your skin, drawing random patterns. Sometimes he touched you as if you were artwork at a museum. Too fragile and too precious, maybe even forbidden to lay his hands on. Other times, he dug his fingers deeply into your skin and pulled you flush against his hot body, trapping you under his weight and making it hard for you to breathe with his feverish kisses. His light chuckle rang ever so delightfully in your ears as he noticed the dark hickeys on your chest. His personal masterpiece, only for you to see. If he was the artist, you were his muse and his canvas. The touch tickled you a little. When he traced the dark shapes on your skin you shivered, and when his fingertips came close to your nipples your heart skipped a beat or two. Softly, you swatted his hand away.

“Still haven’t had enough?” you asked.

“I’ll never get enough of you,” he said. You didn’t blame him. If anything, you had never related more. You had just closed your eyes, trying to listen to the way his heart was beating underneath your head, when he rolled over on top of you. When you looked up at him, he had already lowered his head to kiss you. Without your control, your lips curled into a smile. Compared to earlier, when his kisses had been so full of passion and need, they now felt soft, like candy cotton clouds on your skin. Your lips moved slow enough for you to consciously notice every little sensation. The way his hair tickled your forehead, his nose brushing against yours, and his hand intertwining with yours next to your head. Deeply, you breathed in, only to sigh because his scent overtook all your senses with a rush you thought one could only receive from consuming drugs.

His bare chest against yours was warm and your legs tangled with the blankets by your feet. Through the gap in the window you heard the lively song of birds and chatter of both other tourists and residents in the city. Physically, they were just outside, a few levels lower, on the street. But your head was miles away from it all. It was all heart eyes and lips practically quivering with the need to let him know how much you loved him. He beat you to it.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered. “So much. All of you.”

He peppered kisses on your neck and squeezed your hands in his. How come your heart could never get used to these words? Why did it have to jump the way it did, every single time? Not once had you been able to stop the big smile on your face upon hearing the confession – not that you tried hard, because why should you have – and each time you had to regain your composition for a few seconds, until you could return those words.

“So am I,” you said. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Yesterday you said the ice cream shop downtown was the best thing that’s ever happened to you,” he teased, a smile evident in his voice.

“That was an exaggeration, obviously,” you said. “If you hadn’t been there with me, it would have only been a fifth as delicious.”

“Thank god,” he said, exaggerating. “I almost thought I had lost against some chocolate ice cream there.”

“Come here, silly,” you said. He raised his head from your neck and grinned. Sometimes you were nearly convinced he could have cured any problem with his handsome smile. But the look he was giving you was reserved only for you. It was saying words without having to speak and held countless memories from the past.

“You’re my favourite person in the whole universe,” you said. “And yes, I do know that none of the aliens out there could possibly be better than you. But I do hope we go back to that ice cream shop tonight.”

His eyes had gone from loving to amused and back to loving. Gently, his lips met yours again. The kiss only lasted for a short while, but it said enough.

“We can go back there,” he said. “Do you wanna go for dinner now? Down by the river?”

“Let’s stay like this, just five minutes longer, alright?” you asked. You weren’t quite ready to lose his warmth on your skin and to leave this little, perfect world inside the hotel room just yet. In fact, if it was possible, you’d drag out the moment forever. And he seemed to agree. He hummed and nodded quietly. The next time his lips met yours, you didn’t let him pull away so fast. Five minutes, half an hour, an hour, what even was time when you were with him?  

[yeojaa]

wherever i’m with you.

[ read devil in a new suit ]

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  mature.  tags.  kook is just really really in love.  also some light smut.  wc. 1.3k.  beta reader.  duhhhh, it’s @hobi-gif​.  author note.  i had two ask requests for more devil drabbles but... when i tried to answer them, the asks disappeared. i am so sorry. @_@ anyway, i’m really into super soft stuff lately so... enjoy the fluff! 

Jeon Jungkook enjoys a lot of things.  Playing music far too loudly in the car, going for night drives that feel as if they’re never long enough, receiving praise from his mother and father, seeing you in the skimpiest lingerie money can buy.  He likes runny egg yolks and perfectly crisp potatoes, samgyupsal and lettuce dipped in ssamjang at two in the morning.  Wasting too much time in the shower and tracking kisses over your wrist when you’re watching television shows you spend too long arguing over. 

He thinks he’s a simple man, someone who finds beauty in the little things.  Someone who appreciates the moments in between, the befores and afters of the great big crescendos. 

Now, for instance, as you’re half-asleep and lovely in his arms, curled against his chest like a cat.  Hair askew, makeup worse for wear, skin sweat-slick and intoxicating.  So warm in his arms that it’s as if he’s holding the sun, somehow having managed to trap all the light in the galaxy in this piece of paradise.

“Stop staring.”  

He hadn’t realised he had been.  Also hadn’t realised you’d noticed. (Frankly isn’t sure how you had, considering your face is buried against his pec, remnants of your lipstick staining his skin in the prettiest mosaic.  A piece of artwork he’d like to keep forever.)

“I-I’m not,”  he says, stutters, uncertain and flustered and so in love it makes his head spin, pulse thundering in his ears at being caught.

(Somehow, you just know him.  Know who he is, beneath it all.  Under the layers of carefully crafted armour, down to a molecular level.  Jungkook supposes you recognise yourself in the shape of his structure, your own face reflected back at you when you pry his chest open to lay your head.)

“You are.”  You’re right.  He is.

Can you blame him when you’re so lovely, so pretty, so kind?  Warming him from the inside out, offering all your stardust into the crevices of his bones?  (You can’t.  He knows you can’t.  You like him too much to begrudge him this:  the eagerness with which he adores you, folds his affections between your silk strands and writes them into your skin.  Burns them like a brand, forming them by the edge of his teeth and the press of his mouth.)

(He’s a magician, you’d say. Turning you soft soft soft, crafting all those sharp edges into something different but still you.  Because you’ll always be you - the brilliantly bright girl he’s fallen head over heels for, who sends his heart tripping over its feet.)

“Sorry,”  he offers, though he’s not very sorry at all.  Why would he be, when this is the thing he loves best - more than his mother’s coffee cake and the shiny gold Rolex his father gifted him as a twenty-third birthday present?

A breathy exhale falls, tickles all the nerve endings that already feel too worn, electrified by your touch and left to sizzle to ash beneath his skin.  It’s barely a sound - a simple in and out of your lungs - but it feels as if you’ve caught him in your orbit, drawn him entirely into your system to be consumed.  He doesn’t mind.  

“Close your eyes.”

“Closing.”  Except they’re not, still trained on you as if the longer he stares, the better he might remember you, imprint your figure into the backs of his eyelids until you’re all he sees, all he knows. 

(He’ll never get enough.  There will never be a moment where you - where this feeling that overwhelms him and scares him and makes him want to shout from rooftops - will be enough.)

(Did that make him greedy?  Probably.)

“You’re not closing,”  you chide him again, always knowing, omniscient like a god.  (Perhaps that’s what you were, though.  A deity to be worshipped, to guide him in the dark, to hold his head high when he felt nothing like himself.  A reason for being, for loving, for living.)  

He wonders why you’re so intent, insistent.  He understands quickly enough, lurches into realisation with a keening breath when you find him, curl a hand around his length and brush the pad of your thumb across the tip.

(A part of him wonders when he’d grown hard again, leaking into the warmth your palm offers.  Another part knows it doesn’t matter - that you could hold his hand and call him baby boy and he’d want nothing more than to kiss you senseless, fold you in half and whisper those same sweet things back to you.)

(Jeon Jungkook is a sucker - but just for you.)

“____.”  It comes in a broken whine, the kind of noise he rarely makes, that has you swirling your thumb through pearlescent pre-cum, stroking him from base to tip with languid twists of your wrist.  You’re taking your time in driving him crazy, gradually toppling his walls, unfurling heat in the pit of his stomach.  (Bringing him to ruin, conquering his kingdom.)  He loves it like he loves you - endlessly, arduously, wholly.  You’re so good to him, touching exactly how he likes, teasing until he can’t keep his thoughts in a straight line, coherency tied into a knot.

“Relax,”  you purr, the sound rumbling through his chest, branching into the cavity behind, stuttering his heart.  (It goes deeper too, shoots straight to his cock in your fist, curls his toes when you massage the sensitive underside of his head.)  

Jungkook’s not sure what’s got you like this but he doesn’t mind.  Revels in it instead, lets his hands furl into fists, clutching linens as if they’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Again?”  He asks, half-hopeful, half-surprised.  You’d been a complete mess not even an hour earlier, begging for a reprieve when he’d sealed his mouth to your clit, devoured you like a beast of a man.  Fucked you through your third orgasm of the morning with the hook of three fingers and a tongue intent on mapping out the geography of your body.

Your response is sheer sweetness, cotton candy laughter sticking in his ears.  “Again.”

Who is he to deny you?  He’s but a boy in love, desperate to do as asked, to make you happy, to make you laugh, to make you smile and shake and sob. 

“Again,”  he repeats, with a touch that crafts you into the perfect puzzle piece, fitting you against him with a push here, a nudge there.  That has you straddling him, hair a halo around your head, a crown for his queen.  “I love you.”

It’s not the first time he says it and he’s certain it won’t be the last.  It still feels brand new though, drowned in emotion and drunk on passion.  An amalgamation of all your experiences - of shared secrets, hands under the table, your chiding it’ll be okay’s.  The taste of your jasmine toothpaste, the glide of your skin over his, the way you run your hands through his hair when he’s falling asleep on the couch.

It’s a promise and a request all at once, asking for you to love him just as he does you.

And you do, so well, so utterly perfect for him when you sink onto his cock and thread your fingers with his, lock your knuckles together where they rest on your hips.  

You return his profession with one of your own, an I love you too that comes with a twinkle in your eye, all the stars sparkling against the night sky.  Four words that fades into a sigh, a rise and fall of your chest when you swivel your hips, rock down against him until he swears he’s never filled you better.  (He swears he finds home in the warmth of your walls, the heat of your stare.)

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​ @snackhobi​ @codeinebelle​

[fairyoftbz]

amour inscouciant | m. kevin

pairing: kevin x fem!reader word count: 1.8k genre: mostly fluff, attempts at making jokes, suggestive, mention of sex synopsis: you’re watching a movie with your boyfriend, but a special scene fires things up... a/n: Happy Valentine’s day to everyone!! 💐💕 I really tried my best for this one, even though I’m not really proud of it! Special thanks to @violethhj​ for requesting it, I hope it’ll be good enough!! 🙃 (the title means ‘carefree love’ if you are curious, i thought it’d suit Kev’ well!)

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” you heard the familiar voice of your boyfriend entering the room, stirring you awake. You groaned as you kept your eyes closed, not exactly ready to wake up yet. A louder grunt escaped your mouth when Kevin started playing with the curtains, drawing only one to let the sunlight hit you in the face. He laughed, proud of his little joke as you turned around to face the wall, trying to desperately go back to sleep.

Your stomach said otherwise when your man balanced a plate of pancakes under your nostrils, the sweet aroma forcing your eyes to flutter open. 

“There we go, I knew I could get you to wake up with food,” he proudly said as he rested the plate on the bedside table, giving you a glass of orange juice instead. Half-hoisted on your elbow, you downed the drink in a few seconds, Kevin smiling at your enthusiasm. “Yes, love, the oranges were freshly pressed, by me,” he said when you frowned, getting a few seeds out of your mouth.  “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice still laced with sleep. You slightly rolled your eyes as your phone screen lit up, the digits showing 07:49.

“Why would you wake me up so early, though?” you asked with a pout, and Kevin laughed. “So we get to spend the entire day together!” he answered, gently slapping your hand when it was about to take the blueberry pancakes, looking delicious and appetising. “Give me a number between 1 and 5, quick!” he said, snapping his fingers while he waited for your answer. “Uh, I don’t know? 3?” you said, caught unawares. Kevin opened Netflix on his phone and sighed, showing you the film you randomly chose.

“Oh, nice! Starting the day by watching Top Gun, I couldn’t have asked for a better morning!” you said as you grabbed your boyfriend, forcing him to fall back in bed with you. He sighed but still managed to grab the remote before collapsing next to you, an arm wrapping around your shoulders.  “The things I’d go through for you,” he sighed before laughing as you playfully nudged him in the ribs. “But you love me, right?” you asked, eyes glued to the screen as Tom Cruise appeared in your field of vision. “Of course I do,” he smiled, seeing you already deep in the movie when it had barely started. Your love for this film was unconditional, Kevin was willing to get through it, just to see a smile on your face.

You cuddled further into his chest as he radiated a comforting warmth, only to have him kiss the crown of your head. You smiled as you felt at peace, arm wrapped around his middle with your legs tangled together. Kevin slightly grimaced when your cold hand went under his t-shirt to innocently caress his abs, fingers lingering on his warm skin. He paid no mind to your actions since it was your way to show affection, but he couldn’t deny that your touch didn’t leave him unbothered. 

You let out an excited gasp and giggled when your favourite scene appeared on the screen, laughing as Pete Mitchell was purposefully making his motor roar to block Charlie’s words. You clutched your boyfriend’s shirt, excited to see that scene, despite having seen it a thousand times already. It just gave you butterflies every single damn time, and you loved the feeling of your heart hammering in your chest, pulsating adrenaline in your entire body. 

Kevin smirked as he noticed your hand grasping his top even tighter, eyes rising to the TV. His hand started caressing your thigh, your body subconsciously snuggling up closer to him.

“I didn’t remember that-“ “Shut up, Kev,” you interrupted him, and his mouth fell open at your words, feeling him laugh as you increased the volume of the television. You squealed like a schoolgirl when Charlie confessed, Mitchell kissing her in the following seconds. Biting your lips as they started making out on the slow song that you cherished so much, you felt your boyfriend’s chest moving at your foolish behaviour.

“You wish that were you, uh?” he whispered in your ear and you slapped his chest. “For the love of God, Kevin, keep it quiet,” you mumbled without even looking at him, eyes detailing every single scene. 

Your boyfriend had to admit that this part was pretty hot, his heart beating faster as he started imagining you two making out, just like the actors.  He grabbed your hand that was resting on his stomach and brought it to his mouth, laying soft kisses on your wrist. He progressively got lower, soon arriving at your elbow, following your limb up to kiss your upper arm. His head sank in your neck and kept on operating there, his caresses disturbing your attention from the film.  

“Kevin, I’m trying to watch the film,” you uttered as you held the hand that was about to lift the bottom of your top. “And I want you. Right now,” he whispered against your neck, feeling goosebumps rising on your skin at his words. Your hand slowly went up and met the back of his head, slowly pulling on his dark locks. You earned a low grunt from the man, knowing that it was one of his favourite things for you to do.

He patted the covers and grabbed the remote, pausing the TV right here. You were kind of frustrated, but he changed positions so quickly that you didn’t even have time to protest. He was hovering above you, hands finding your hips, slowly caressing the soft, warm flesh of your sides. You tugged on the edge of his t-shirt, a smile decorating his face as he pulled away from your mouth. Taking it off, he gently threw it at your face, softly giggling together before capturing your lips, hand wrapping around your throat to keep you from moving too much. That new sensation of light choking triggered a wave of warmth rushing south. You forced yourself to bit your inner cheek to stifle a moan, knowing that Kevin would be too content to have you wrapped around his fingers so quickly.  

Hands travelling down to his stomach, you caressed his toned abs and happy trail, feeling all excited and giddy at the sensation. Kevin slightly moved the two of you around, sitting up on his side of the bed, head and back resting against the frame. You were straddling him, one of his favourite positions, tongues dancing together it was his turn to tug on your top. 

"You're so beautiful," he said in a husky voice, some warmth of happiness travelling in your body. Your naked torsos touched the other as you were trying to take your time, but Kevin had another plan in mind. He never missed the opportunity to display hickeys all over your neck, earning beautiful moans as he licked and gently sucked on the sensitive skin. Mouth lingering on your collarbone, you softly gasped as his teeth grazed against your bone, grabbing the back of his head to push him further into your chest. He teased the skin right above your breasts, feeling your heart pounding against his mouth as things were spicing up. 

Sorry, no smut part because a) I don’t know how to write that and b) I’m already a blushing mess because of the make-out scene, I’m limiting the damage.

Kevin collapsed next to you, forehead pearling with sweat, the plate that was once filled with pancake now empty. You caught your breath back for a short instant and looked for your t-shirt, only to lazily rest your head back on the pillow as you noticed it magically hanging off the television. 

“You’re something when you want to,” your boyfriend said as he pushed his front pieces of hair back, hand then falling on his stomach while looking at you. You smirked as you noticed the hickeys in between his abs, shaking your head at his words. “You can talk! I don’t even have to see my neck to know how it looks like. The amount of time you spent down there, I probably look like I got into a fight,” you curled up to the side and stared at your boyfriend in the eyes, his touch lingering on your mind. 

“But you look so pretty like that,” he replied, and you shook your head with an amused smile on your face. “Proud of your art?” you teased, and he nodded, suddenly becoming all serious. “Of course I am. Out of all my artworks, this one is the prettiest. The canvas was already so gorgeous, I just added a personal touch,” he sat up and put on his sweatpants back on before getting up. He hissed when you delicately touched the scratches you had left in his upper back, feeling kind of proud yet guilty. You watched him get up, grabbing his wrist so he could kiss you. He obliged, gently pushing a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“I’m coming back in a minute, love. Just rest for a while,” he kissed your cheek before walking out of the bedroom while you grabbed the remote and turned the TV back on, continuing the film where Kevin had paused it. Noticing your boyfriend's t-shirt lying around at the far end of the bed, you wiggled under the covers to get to it and wore it, feeling all pretty and loved when his body and laundry scent invaded your nose. 

Your lover came back a few minutes later, a warm cup of tea in one hand for the aftercare, and a bouquet of roses in the other. You cooed at his reddened cheeks, taking the flowers from him after kissing his lips.

“I wanted to give them to you when you would have gotten up, but it got delayed for some reason,” you giggled at his words and sniffled the roses, a rush of warmness invading your heart, making you fall for your lover even more.  “They smelled amazing, thank you so much, Kev’,” you said, and he smiled, sitting down next to you. “Happy Valentine’s day, Y/N,” he whispered in your ear as he caught your earlobe between his teeth, gently tugging on it. Grabbing his chin to make him look at you, you stared at him in the eyes for a moment before kissing him, again.

“I love you,” you said, and he caressed your cheek.  “I love you too, baby, a lot.” You lost yourself in his eyes for a quick minute, your mouths stretched into smiles, blissfully happy to be with the other on this special day. 

[the-angriestpineapple]

liability // villain!sero hanta x femreader

Rating: Explicit Characters: (Villain) Sero Hanta Inspiration: My piece for the Citrus Dome Discord server’s Hero/Villain Redemption Collaboration. Okay listen, I love Sero Hanta and this boy does not nearly get enough credit for what a good boy he is. Get ready to thirst for a tape dispenser folks. Prompt:  You’re captured by a villain/hero. This is a double whammy! The character you pick must be written with the opposite alignment. So, if they are heroes, they must be portrayed as villains. If they are villains, they must be depicted as heroes. On top of that, you (reader) or they must try and corrupt or redeem the other character! Tags: Villain!Sero Hanta, bondage, shibari, overstimulation, oral, vaginal sex,  abuse, talk of sexual assault. (The last two are not Sero and only last like, a paragraph or two.) Word Count: ~6.4k Collab Masterlist here

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The museum was dead silent with the exception of your brush making slow, careful strokes on the painting you were working on. Of course, it was expected that it was dead silent. You were at work near in the middle of the night. It wasn’t that the restoration department was noisy during the day, but there was always some sort of audio. Someone talking, other people working, someone sipping tea. And for this specific piece, you wanted absolute silence to concentrate. Not even music. Dead silence. It was the first time you’d found a piece by your absolute favorite artist and you had begged to be the one to restore it. But in order to concentrate as much as you felt you needed to, there had to be no noise. So you’d gotten permission to stay late, after the museum closed. And you were grateful. This was going to be the absolute highlight of your career. You pause to dip your brush into the specialty varnish remover and hear a noise. You pause, and glance at the clock. It wasn’t time for the security guard to make the rounds. You immediately feel on edge. No one else is supposed to be here. Maybe… maybe something just fell over in the artifact room.  You grab your cell phone, trying not to think about how utterly impossible that is, and turn on your flashlight app. You exit your offices in the restoration department and head to the next door, where the artifacts not currently on display are held. It’s possible that the security guard made rounds early. Likely more possible than something falling over. Especially since the door to the artifact room is ajar. You’d go in, see the guard, and then maybe it was time to head home. You make it only a handful of steps in before you hear something that sounds vaguely familiar, and you’re quickly wrapped in some kind of tape. You immediately struggle but lose your balance, falling to the ground. Your phone skids away from you and slides directly under a shelf. You stare at the spot in dismay and when someone speaks up behind you, you freeze at the voice.

“Hm. This won’t do. Intel said there’s only one security guard and I already took care of him.” A booted foot pushes on your bound torso to roll you over. You look up, and your captor’s eyes widen the same time that yours does. He breathes out your name in surprise. Immediate glee rises in you. He recognizes you. Sero Hanta, love of your life from middle school, recognizes you all these years later. But that giddy schoolgirl elation is shoved down when you remember that he’s a villain and is obviously here to steal from your museum. His mouth curls into a grin just as yours falls to a frown. “What are you doing here, Sero?” Not that you don’t already know. Your museum might not be the Tokyo National Museum, but it held some pretty priceless artifacts. “I would think that’s obvious, if you recognize me. How have you been?” His head tilts to the side and your frown deepens. “You look good.” I look good? Part of you feels your heart skip at the compliment. Part of you flares up in indignation, wondering how he has the absolute gall to say that to you when you’re bound from shoulders to hips in tape, on the floor of your place of work that he’s about to rob. Though if you’re behind completely honest, he looks good too. You’d always been partial to his angular face and wide smile, but now he had lean, powerful looking muscles. His hair was still long but pulled back, and the underside of his head shaved. His outfit was a parody on his hero costume, a skin-tight body suit of mostly black with white and yellow accents. He didn’t wear a helmet anymore, but did have a black face mask. Like the kind you wore when you were sick. He had an air of confidence around him that was undeniably attractive. But you guessed that one would become a bit arrogant with as many successful heists as he’s pulled off. He’d never been caught once, even though he had former classmates that were specifically looking to take him down. And now here you were, throwing a wrench in and possibly fucking it all up. As far as you knew Sero had never actually murdered anyone, but there had been a lot of thefts with no witnesses. What if there were, and he just disposed of them? What if he did that to you? Your breath catches in your throat, and you flinch away from him when he crouches down. He still has that grin on his face. “So, if you don’t mind, I’ll get back to it and figure out what I’m gonna do with you later.” He taps your nose and rises again. “You’re just going to leave me here on the floor taped up like this?!” You start to struggle again, but his tape is strong. You can barely move.  “Afraid so,” he says with a sympathetic look. “This is an important heist, and I can’t have you fucking it up for me.” He starts perusing the various artwork. You’re not sure if he is looking for something in particular, since right now he looks more like he’s shopping than about to rob the place. You watch his movements carefully, cataloging all the pieces he touches. At least, that’s what you want to pretend you’re doing. You know that you’re watching the fluid motion of his muscles through his skin tight costume. The way his eyes light up at a particularly valuable piece. The wide, friendly smile that you remember from middle school is surely under that black mask. He’d been playfully teased by your classmates for that smile, but it had always made your heart flutter. Despite his looking, Sero doesn’t seem to be finding anything of interest. He’d even picked up some very expensive pieces before putting them back down. It doesn’t take long for your curiosity to get the better of you. “Um, are you looking for something in particular?” Sero looks at you with an expression of mild surprise. It’s only a split second though before the confident grin is back on. “Why, you willing to help me out?” His eyebrow raises and you flush a little.  “Of course not,” you fire back immediately. You’re just curious if he is looking for a certain item. There’s a few things that he can think of that he might be looking for. But Sero hasn’t turned away from you.  “You know, for a small museum this is a rather large room. You might just be useful to me.” He only now shifts back to continue to peruse through the paintings. “I am looking for a piece in particular, as you said. The original Hinakuawa pond painting. I saw that it was taken off display.” It’s a good thing he’d turned away from you, because he missed the moment of your eyes widening before you forced a neutral face. That painting was taken off display because it was on loan to another museum, one hours from here. “Ah. Lotus Daydream. Yes, that painting is kept in this room when it is not on display.” Luckily the bulk of your artwork was flat pieces, so this was the largest storeroom. Maybe you could keep Sero distracted while he searched for a painting that wasn’t there, until your security guard woke up and signaled the police – and the heroes – to come save you. It was as good of a plan as any, and considering your current predicament… the only plan you really had. He glances at you when you don’t willingly point out where it is, then shrugs and keeps looking himself. He doesn’t seem inclined to keep talking. The silence gets to you after a few minutes. “So, um… it’s been a long time. I… see you on the news a lot.” You wince inwardly. What a stupid start. But Sero doesn’t seem to think so apparently. He gives you a side smirk. “Yeah? You watching me on the news?” The teasing in his tone was obvious and you flush again. “You’re on it a lot, to be fair.” Which wasn’t incorrect. Sero Hanta was on the news a few times a week with another successful theft. He infuriated the police and the heroes, especially the ones who used to be his friends. “What can I say, I’m good at what I do.” He winks at you and turns back to examining the artwork. I bet you are. The thought comes immediately, and your breath catches for a moment. It’s almost funny. The Sero you knew, that you had been hopelessly in love with, had been awkward. He smiled a lot, and he was laid back, but he didn’t have this confidence that seemed to be oozing out of this Sero. Your Sero had been lanky. Long-limbed and almost spider like. But his kindness and thoughtfulness had been what made you fall first. You had also been awkward, and very quiet. You didn’t even know if he’d known who you were. You’d been partnered with him for an English project once and you’d barely been able to communicate with him for it in person. He’d been so sweet and patient. And now… now he was the most notorious thief in Japan. With the body of a god and confidence of a rock star. It makes you squirm a little in your restraints. “And you, I didn’t expect to find anyone here, much less someone like you. Is it normal for you to work this late?” You know it’s probably just him trying to case the museum, to see where he made an error, but you shake your head anyway. “No, I was working on a piece that is very important to me.” You see an eyebrow raise, and hurry to continue. “Not Lotus Daydream. It’s another artist, one much smaller. It does not have a lot of monetary value, but he’s my favorite painter.” You get a soft look on your face when you think about it. Sero gives a tiny, indulgent smile. “Sounds important to you.” “Yeah, it is.”  “Any particular reason?” Hm. You can’t think of a good reason why he would ask that question to benefit him. And telling a story is going to take up time. You look away from Sero, focusing instead on an old painting of a rice paddy in the corner. “Well… I didn’t have a lot of contact with my father when I was younger. It wasn’t until I was in high school that I was able to talk to him at all. My mother hated him, and hated that I was just like him, so she kept me from him while telling me that he didn’t want to see me.” It didn’t bother you anymore. It did back then, but you now had good relationships with both of your parents. You’d forgiven your mother long ago. “My father is an art collector. Talking to him got me interested in it too, and my interest and skills landed me in an art restoration career.” You pause, looking up at Sero. He’s looking at you curiously. “That artist had a small exhibit near his house, and that was where my father took me as an outing the first time I’d seen him since I was five.” Sero tilts his head slightly as he digests this information. “Oh. Yeah, I can see why that’s important to you. So you didn’t have an interest in art in middle school? I always saw that you were reading, but I never saw what.” He leans against a glass case, now more focused on you than what he’s looking for. “No. I, um, I wasn’t very outgoing. I preferred to be in the back of the room with a book. I wasn’t teased or anything like that, and I was more or less happy. I just didn’t know how to talk to my classmates the way the popular kids did.” You give a small, wry chuckle. “It was even worse when it came to you, since I liked you.” What??? Your eyes shoot wide just as one of Sero’s brows raise. “You liked me?” He pulls his face mask down and now you can see as his wide mouth curls up into a grin. As much as you don’t want to dive into this topic, you do notice that all of his attention is now on you instead of the artwork surrounding you both. So you decide to play it up a little.  You lower your eyes for a moment before shyly looking up at him through your lashes and nodding. You still did, if you were being entirely honest, despite his criminal record. His grin widens even more and he pushes off the case, sauntering over to where you’re sitting. One elbow crooks and he shoots tape at the ceiling. It sticks around a beam and holds, and he tears it from his elbow only to shoot another from the other one. You’re silent as he hoists you up to a standing position and adheres the pieces to the tape on your back. Keeping you there on your tip toes, off the floor just enough that you couldn’t put your feet flat on the ground. “And you didn’t say anything back then? I would have been thrilled to know that you felt that way.” Your breath hitches. Really? Had you wasted your chance back then? And is that what you’re going to think about right now when he’s here in the middle of the night attempting to rob your museum? But Sero’s moving in closer, and your eyes widen fractionally as your toes scramble a bit in an effort to back up. He notices and smirks. “And how about now? Is what I do a turn off?” His eyes are staring into yours, his voice dropping low. “Or… is it a turn on?” Your breath hitches, and your heart is beating so hard you’re sure he can hear it. He’s so close, and you can’t get away. Though… you know that you really don’t want to. He exhales slowly, his breath ghosting over your lips, before he closes the distance between your mouths. His lips are thin and slightly chapped, but he obviously knows what he’s doing. His mouth moves slowly, almost teasingly as he coaxes your mouth to move with his. He presses in closer to place one hand on the middle of your back and slide down to the small. You aren’t sure what exactly it is – the fact that you’re bound, the fact that you’re at your job, the fact that you liked him, the fact that he’s a criminal, or maybe all of them – but this is the most amazing kiss you’ve had in a while. If ever. There is the beginning of a knot of heat in your core as his tongue licks your lower lip, your mouth immediately opening to allow him entrance. You whimper slightly into the kiss, the noise turning into a soft whine when he pulls away from you. You open your eyes to see him smirking down at you. He’s still holding your body pressed to his, and you can easily feel without your hands how firm his muscles are. How strong he is. He has to be, really, to be able to swing around on his tape as fluidly as he does. But Sero had always been strong. You remember seeing him in the Sports Festival back when he went to UA High School, remember him during the cavalry battle. How he had easily caught a young Ground Zero in mid air with one arm and tossed him back on top of their group. You’d had that in your mind for months after the fact. “I guess it’s a turn on,” he murmurs, one hand going up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. “So now the real question is… how much of a turn on is it?” He leans close, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “You gonna let me get into that dress? I’d like to know what you taste like.” Your breath hitches, a shiver going down your spine. You want it, so fucking badly, but are you bold enough to let him? Well, it’s not like you have much of a choice, you reason with yourself. Sure, it’s probable that he won’t touch you if you say no, but you’re bound. Helpless. At his mercy. You hold your breath as he pulls back just far enough to look into your eyes, and you give the slightest nod on the exhale. His mouth curls into another smirk and he lets you go to back away. You look at him in confusion until he shoots more tape at the ceiling – two strands, that he attaches to your ankles and uses to keep your legs yanked into the air. Your dress hikes up to your hips when he pushes your thighs up and ties his tape to each one. This leaves you splayed open, suspended in front of him. On display for his dark eyes to rove over. He steps close to you again, both hands running on the outside of your thighs until they reach your hips. Then he moves to his knees to put himself at face level with your core. “Mm. Already wet for me, I see,” he says in a husky, teasing tone. Before you can formulate a quippy answer the hands on your hips dig in and he pulls your forward to his mouth. His wide, flat tongue licks up your damp panties and your breath is ripped from your lungs. He lets out a pleasurable groan. “Delicious. Just like I thought. But I’m sure it’d be better without these in the way.” Sero hooks his thumb into your panties and pulls them to the side before repeating his tongue drag. This time it pulls a strangled moan from you. He lets out another groan in response and pulls back just enough to look at you from between your legs. “That’s it, make more of those noises for me.” And he pulls you back in. You’d had oral sex before, sure. Roughly half of the guys you dated did it, and a decent number of them enjoyed it. It had always astounded you how much a guy wanted your mouth on his dick but didn’t want to return the favor. Sero Hanta, on the other hand, ate you like he was starving and you were the most decedant thing he’d ever tasted. His hands kept you pressed tightly to his face to the point that you’d probably be concerned for his ability to breathe if you could string a thought together. He seems like he’s everywhere at once. His tongue lapping up your sex before dipping inside of it, back out to drag up and circle your clit. Now and then he’d suck or gently bit it, causing a sharp increase in the moans he was pulling out of you. He had you strung up in a way that you really could only see the top of his head as he worked you over, so you could never quite tell what was coming next. You let out a noise of surprise that tapers into a moan when his first finger breaches you. “Look at you,” he breathes as he presses kisses to the insides of your thighs. “Opening right up for me.” He leans back far enough to be able to catch your eyes. “Such a good girl.” He curls his long, dexterous finger up to press against the small, spongy spot inside you that has you bucking in your restraints. He grins. Sero knows exactly what he’s doing. He slides his finger out only to press two back in as he leans forward. “Cum for me, babe?” he breathes out across your sex before wrapping his lips back around your clit. The sucking sensation coupled with the press against that spot inside you has you crying out and coming apart around him. He rolls his fingers as you ride through it while gently licking at your clit, your hips jerking and trying to get away from the over-stimulation. You’re slightly dazed as he rises up, grabbing your hips again and pressing his bulge into your soaked folds. Despite how sensitive you are, you can’t help but buck back into him. “Can I use your mouth, babe?” He tilts his head slightly, grinning when you enthusiastically nod your consent. You can’t quite find words, so… body language. Sero pulls a blade out from somewhere around his hip and cuts the tape to let your legs down. More tape shoots off, more tape is cut, you don’t really have the capacity to follow what he’s doing. Then you’re being moved. Sero tilts you forward until your face is level with his hips, but your toes are still just skimming the floor again. He has your hips bound up a little higher than your head and you look at him from under your lashes. He reaches out to skim fingers down the line of your jaw. “Beautiful,” he mumbles. Your heart swells with the praise, and you bite your lip before opening your mouth, sticking your tongue out, and looking back up at him. He curses under his breath and flicks his fingers under a nearly invisible seam at the crotch of his suit, revealing a button and long zipper. How convenient, you think as he undoes both and pulls his cock out through the hole. He immediately drops it so the head bounces on your tongue, hissing at how warm your tongue is. His cock isn’t particularly wide, but it is long and slightly curved upward. And he tastes so good, you really want to close your mouth and get to work, but you wait. He rocks his hips marginally to let the head slide a few centimetres and bites his lip.  “Fuck. You are a good girl. Go ahead and close your mouth, babe.” You happily oblige, feeling a thrill at the way his head tips back when you swirl your tongue around the head. He drops a large hand on your head but instead of guiding your head further down like most of the guys you’ve been with, he winds his fingers gently in your hair. His thumb starts rubbing soft circles on your head as he rocks his hips into your mouth. You want more. You’re very confident that you can take him down to the root, and you want to try. You try to push forward but it’s very awkward with your toes scrambling on the floor. He notices once you whine a little, and looks down with a chuckle. “You want more?” He steps forward a little, letting more of his length slide in until he bumps into the back of your throat. You let out a small moan and let your tongue dance around his underside to show your approval. He makes a guttural noise and starts to rock his hips into you faster. Harder. You hollow out your cheeks as you look up at him and he moans.  “Shit, I’m not gonna last if you do that,” he rasps out with a slight laugh. He manages a few more thrusts before he’s pulling out of your mouth. He’s panting a little and looking at you with a lopsided grin. "Damn babe, you're good with that mouth." You flush a little and smile. You’d been told that before, but somehow it was so much better coming from Sero. "Thanks. You're um, you're good with your tape." Sero’s face brightens, and his mouth curls up to a wide grin as he tucks himself back into his suit. "Yeah? Think so? You haven't seen the half of it.” Before you can question what he means by that the switchblade is out again. He cuts you down and lets you find your feet. The blade gets positioned at your hip, then Sero’s wrist flicks up. It cuts you out of the tape… and out of your dress.  “Sorry babe,” he murmurs with no real remorse in his voice. You open your mouth to protest your ruined dress but Sero pulls you close, pressing your bare chest to his body suit clad one and kiss you into silence. It’s not important. You have a dress in your locker. It’s fine. As you’re kissing you feel his fingers caress the line of your panties, along your hips, before he pulls on them slightly. He’s testing to see if he can remove them, you assume. You quickly pull them further down.  He chuckles into your kiss and swiftly crouches to help you out of them before tucking them into a nearly invisible back pocket. He gives you a cheeky grin and quickly removes the tape from your ankles. Technically you’re free now, but the thought to run doesn’t even cross your mind. You just wait until he straightens up and moves back in for more kisses. After a few moments you hear his tape shoot out again three times. He pulls back as he shoots a fourth. It binds around your bare chest, just under your breasts. “The anchor,” he says with a wink.  You tilt your head in confusion, and he pulls his arm back to rest his hand on the back of his neck. He pulls more tape from his elbow, a sizable piece. He starts to twist the tape and wrap you up. He attaches the tape to the front of the strip already on you, threads it up through your breasts, and attaches it at the back almost to your hip. He repeats that on the other side. He keeps making and twisting tape, wrapping around your ankles and wrists. He steps behind you and presses your wrists together, crossing them, and quietly asks you to keep them there. You do. His fingers skimming over your skin as he works you over it so erotic. He wraps tape around your elbows, not twisted, to keep your arms straight out. Sero takes one of the tape strands attached to the ceiling and attaches it to the tape on your back. Now you kind of understand what he meant when he said it was an anchor point.  “I’m gonna lift you up, okay?”  You exhale, already shaky. “Yeah. Yeah that’s fine.” He smiles and grabs your chin, brushing a soft kiss to your lips. Your heart skips a beat. He makes another tape rope and crouches down to affix it to your ankle. He runs fingertips with a feather light touch up the side of your leg as he rises. Then he pulls, your ankle coming up. He keeps pulling higher until your thigh follows. He binds your ankle to your wrist, then ties your lower thigh and upper leg together. The position keeps your leg up and folded in. He quickly repeats this with the other side before attaching the last two tape strands he shot off at first to your ankles. You’re suspended by your ankles and the middle of your back, arms stretched out and held in place behind you. Because your ankles are also attached to your wrists, if you shift or move one of them the others move too. You bite your lip as Sero walks around to your front. He traces fingers along your jawline again but this time he doesn’t stop, tipping your face up to his by your chin. “Gorgeous,” he breathes, reverence in his voice. Your face flushes, because he’s looking at you like you’re the most breathtaking thing he’s ever seen. He runs his thumb over your lower lip and your lips automatically part. He gives you a slight smirk and crouches so he can be face to face with you without removing his fingers from your face. “Now, I’d really like to fuck you. But if you don’t want to, I can use my mouth on you again instead.” His voice was soft, eyes watching your face for your reaction. You swallow, and nod. He chuckles a little. “I gotta hear you say it, babe.” “Yeah, yeah please. I want you to fuck me, Sero,” you gasp out in a rushed breath. He leans in and softly kisses your lips. “Good girl,” he whispers against your mouth and rises. You shiver in anticipation as you lose sight of him when he moves behind you. You’re straining to hear what he’s doing, and you hear the rustle of his clothes, the tearing of a wrapper. Your eyes widen as you feel his blunt head sliding along your still soaked folds. The tease is too much and you whine again, but you can’t push back against him. He’s taken all of your possible leverage away and now you really were entirely at his mercy. Large hands grab on to your waist as the first inch sinks in. You inhale and Sero quietly asks if you’re okay. “I’m fine,” you say with impatience in your tone, “Just waiting.”  Sero chuckles behind you. “Well, who am I to keep a lady waiting?” Air is punched out of your lungs as he sheathes himself in one thrust, then slides back out. One more hard thrust, a soft groan from him, and then he’s railing into you hard and fast. While he’s not the thickest man you’ve ever had, he is still a good size and the drag of his cock on your walls is making you cry out as it rubs against the small bundle of nerves inside you. And his length is incredible. He’s bottoming out with each thrust, and his leverage on your hips has him pulling you back as he pushes forward. Hard, deep, and driving you to a second release faster than you thought possible. Sero groans again and picks up his pace. “Fuck, yeah, that’s good baby. Look at you, sucking me in like this. You feel so good around me. Can’t wait to feel you cum on my cock.” His voice is so low, murmuring the words to you, and you clench around him. He hisses at the feeling, moaning out on his exhale. “That’s right, cum on my cock baby. Just let go.” One of his hands leaves your hip and he steps closer to you. You’re bouncing on him a bit more due to gravity than his grasp, and the free hand snakes down to rub sloppy circles on your clit. Five swipes and you’re done for, crying out loudly as your walls clamp down around him. He stops moving in you, still all the way inside, gently and slowly rubbing your clit as your ride out your orgasm. He doesn’t stop though, even as you come down and the pleasure starts to be too much. “S-Sero, I can’t-” “Sure you can, babe. I know you have one more for me.” He rolls his hips fractionally, barely an inch of his cock sliding in and out of you as he keeps his attention on your clit. Your thighs pulled back as far as they are prevent you from closing them to stop him, and it only takes a few minutes before you’re sobbing as another orgasm rips through you. Only now does he pull his hand away and moves so he is standing like he’d been. His hand returns to your bare hip. “See, I knew you had it in you. So fucking good for me.” You barely have time to process his words before he’s fucking into you hard again. He’s chasing his own orgasm now, and you desperately want to give it to him. You can’t touch him though, and you can’t wrap your legs around him to pull him closer. The only thing you can do is flex your walls, make the hole he’s fucking into tighter. It earns you a moan of appreciation that makes you giddy. “Shit, babe, I’m gonna-” He cuts off into a drawn out moan as he slams into you one more time, hard. Then a few softer thrusts. Then he’s done, and you’re both just panting. Desperate attempts to fully fill your lungs. It takes a full minute before Sero pulls out and starts to move. “Well… I must admit that I wasn’t expecting this particular type of art when I came here.” Sero huffs out a laugh and you blink in your post orgasm haze. He peels the condom off and pulls a small bag from his pocket to drop it into. The bag gets closed and shoved back in his pocket. Right, he doesn’t want to leave any evidence that he was here. You bite your lip as you try to stare at him over his shoulder. “Lotus Daydream isn’t here.” Sero looks at you in surprise when you blurt out the words. “It’s on loan to another museum. It’s been gone for three days.” He blinks in disbelief, and then bursts out laughing. “You sneaky little thing.” But he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds amused, even impressed. “I guess that theft-wise my trip was a bust.” Sero runs a hand over the side of his head, smoothing back some stray hair strands. He looks at you still hanging on display as if he’s trying to figure out what to do with you. You bite your lip in consideration. “I won’t say anything about you breaking in if you just leave. Since the piece you’re after isn’t here anyway.” It’s a long shot but worth a try. He frowns a little as he studies your face. You really wish that you could at least close your legs, if not actually get back onto the floor. “Yeah. Alright. You have a deal. You don’t say anything about me being here and I’ll let you go.” Your face brightens and his grows more serious. “But if I do find out that you said something… I’ll be coming after you. And you will desperately wish that you hadn’t. Do you understand?” “Yeah. I understand.” You’re proud that your voice is firm, and the frown turns back up to his wide, trademark smile. He pulls the switchblade back out to cut his tape, gently lowering you to the floor. Only now does he remember that he shredded your dress when he cut you out of his initial containment.  “I have a spare dress in my locker,” you say quickly. Sometimes – almost daily - you get the varnish on your clothes. Most days that doesn’t matter. You don’t really leave your office. But you do try to make sure you have a spare outfit in case you have to meet someone important. You blink as he says that he’ll grab it and he heads off. Somehow you aren’t surprised that he knows where the lockers are and that he can apparently pick your lock. He returns in moments carrying your dress draped over his shoulder. He carefully peels the rest of the tape off of your bare skin. His gentleness is surprising and makes your heart flutter. He’s going slow, careful to not hurt you. He lets you dress, comes with you to pick up your bag, and walks you to the door. He looks out over the street once you’re outside. “The video feed is on a loop. I put your guard to sleep, he’ll wake up without any knowledge that he was knocked out.” Sero gives a bright grin and a small two-finger wave, then shoots his tape up, retracting it to propel up and disappears onto the roof. You watch him go in awe. Sero was amazing in your mind back when you first met him but he was just stunning now. You glance at your watch to check the time. It’s late, the trains have already stopped. You don’t live that far from the museum though, maybe a twenty five minute walk. So you set off. You get three blocks before you hear a low whistle. “Hey baby, what’re you doing out by yourself this late at night? Wanna come party with us?” Your blood runs cold at the trio of men lurking at the alley entrance to your right. The smell of cheap sake invades your senses. Your hand goes to your pocket for your phone and a cold sense of realization washes over you. It had been knocked from your hands and was currently under a shelf in the artifact room. As you’re preparing to run a rough hand grabs you and yanks you into the darkened alley. A different hand clasps over your mouth, but drunks don’t have the best coordination or reflexes. You’re able to bite down hard on one of the man’s fingers. He yells and yanks his hand back, and you take the opportunity to let out a scream. One of the other men growls at you to shut up and smacks you hard upside the head. Your head snaps forward. It dazes you, and your head rolls back. You’re dizzy and can’t seem to focus on any of them. The third man laughs. Three different voices blend together, talking about what they intend to do to such a pretty little thing like you. You’re shoved and pinned up against the rough brick of the alley wall while they argue about who goes first, who goes where. You close your eyes, waiting for the touches you don’t want. But they never come. The hands pinning you leave you and you slide down to the ground. You hear shocked shouts, and when you open your eyes and your vision starts to clear you see a black, white, and yellow figure swinging from a rope – tape! - and kicking one of them drunken men in the face. They try to fight back, but three wobbly drunks are no match for Sero Hanta. He’s too fast, too agile, too strong. Your attackers are all out cold in the alley in under two minutes. Sero, not even breathing heavily from the exertion, lands gracefully on his feet turns to you. With a frown he gently gathers you up in his arms and brings a hand up to touch where they slammed you in the head. “...I heard you scream. Are you alright?” You don’t answer right away. Instead, you bring up a hand and cup his cheek. “You saved me,” you breathe out. Sero’s face softens, and he smiles. He brings you closer and leans down until your foreheads are touching. “Yeah,” he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “I did, didn’t I? Let me get you home.”

[innovativestruggles]

SouGou theories, thoughts and speculations based on canonical evidence

Alright, I know I am so epically late to the party just like I was with Haikyuu and TsukiYachi but I am here now and I am so sad that a lot of the SouGou shippers have...disappeared...

Regardless, I still want to put forward my own thoughts and speculations on these two because they have given me brainrot over the past few weeks. 

So much like the earlier post I did with TsukiYachi, this one will be similar, except I am basing everything on the anime as I have not read the light novel (tbh light novels aren’t really my thing so...). Just to reiterate, when I make any speculations and theories, they are always based on canonical evidence, and of course my own interpretation. I put forward solid evidence so people can see where I am coming from and what I am yapping on about. People are free to draw their own conclusions of what they see in canon, so just because I have a theory with evidence, it does not invalidate another person’s theory of the same evidence...if that makes sense?

Every time I watch a new anime, I always come in with a very neutral mindset. I have a fascination with relationships (hence my ship heavy blog) so I ship characters based on their level of chemistry and compatibility.

Because I am so fashionably late to the party, a lot of the speculations below have been discussed by other SouGou fans. Essentially when I read some of their posts, they pretty much validated what I saw. So I want to credit all those SouGou stans who did the hard yard first on their speculations of these two. This post may already have what was speculated, but it’s nice to have it all in one big post. I will of course add my own thoughts and interpretations as well. So, happy reading!

WARNING: THIS IS A VERY LONG POST

Gou’s Relationship with Other Characters

Sousuke did not make his debut until Season 2, so for all of Season 1, the focus was on Gou and the other characters. To be honest, nothing stood out to me in terms of shipping potential with Gou in Season 1. I do not go into watching anime with the intention of shipping characters - the shipping just automatically occurs when two characters have good chemistry. So with Gou in Season 1, all I saw was a manager being incredibly supportive, friendly, strong willed and determined to see her friends through the swimming club. You may have read my other post on Free! and toxic masculinity, but I did mention in there that what I loved most about Free! was the friendship and the emotional vulnerability. Because Gou is a side character, we never get to see too much of her and how she would develop as a character outside her obsession with muscles. But as viewers, we get the gist of her sweet personality.

Kyoto Animation

Before I dive into the speculations, I want to point out something with KyoAni. For starters, this studio is known for its amazing adaptational works of manga and light novels. When it comes to anime that does not purely focus on romance, they are so so so good with romantic undertones. As much as I do enjoy romance anime, I enjoy ones with subtle undertones of romance even more. I have watched a large portion of anime from KyoAni and I can definitely come to the above conclusion. Although Free! is not a romance genre, there is very subtle light teasing of potential developments between certain characters. Like I mentioned in my Free! post on toxic masculinity, I will disregard that just because the male characters are hugging, crying and showing vulnerable emotions to each other, it does not necessarily mean that there is a romantic development. The very subtle undertones of romance I could see is mostly between Gou, Sousuke and Momo (I will explain more later). So what I am trying to point out in this paragraph is that Free! does have minute traces of romance, because based on what other anime KyoAni produced, there are similarities in how they portray romantic undertones.

SouGou Initial Meeting

The initial meeting did not particularly stand out to me until I watched more scenes and interactions between SouGou later on in the series. What I noticed was the level of admiration Gou has for Sousuke. Again, this was not apparent when I watched the initial meeting scene on its own. I had to see a culmination of scenes between them to realise.

Oh gosh just look at how happy she is seeing Sousuke. If you go back and watch this scene again, she legit just shoved Momo out the way and ran to Sousuke. Lmao poor Momo!

Also....

Momo still staring at SouGou the whole time...

Momo getting pissy lololol (and super jelly)

Gou just looking so happy staring after Sousuke...ughh my heart....

Middle School

Just something I picked up. When Rin transferred to Iwatobi during middle school, it sounded like Gou did not go with him. So she stayed behind in the same middle school together with Sousuke after Rin left. See below.

Because Gou is one year younger than Sousuke, the scene above just sounded like he stopped talking to her when he left for Tokyo when he was a first year high school student and she a third year middle school student...and then the below scene confirmed when and the reason...

In the above scene, Sousuke explained that he hurt his shoulder in the summer of his first year of high school, and then he heard from Gou that Rin was visiting Japan at the time, so I am guessing SouGou must have stopped talking to each other around that time when Sousuke injured his shoulder. The injury was most likely why he stopped talking to her because he knew the consequences...that if Rin found out through Gou... then yeah... so to him it was better to cut off contact with both siblings...omg my heart...my poor baby Sousuke...

Anyways, point is they were definitely still talking when Rin went to Iwatobi and then later Australia. So I wonder how close they were to each other...? They do sound very close...wonder if they walked to and from school together...omfg my heart hurts again...aaaahhhhhhh

Childhood Friends

This trope is so cute and I really like the whole ‘he is my brother’s best friend’ kind of thing. Because we all know how overprotective Rin is of Gou and if there is anyone who is good enough for her, Rin would definitely think it be Sousuke.

LOOK AT HOW PRECIOUS THEY ARE OMG. Love this official artwork of all three of them. And Sousuke has such a sweet gentle expression when he is looking at Gou...

Best part also is that subtle teasing of these two. Anime is always about camera work and specific panels as well, so it just looked like to me that they really wanted to emphasise this scene between SouGou. The snow, the Christmas tree, the childhood friends - all in one frame.

Indirect Moments

These are the moments that started me on the SouGou ship! 

Gou sees Sousuke at the train station right after he has been brooding about his shoulder injury

Gou sees Sousuke at the hospital

What I really really liked about these scenes is that every single time Sousuke was having a down moment, or a vulnerable moment in relation to his shoulder injury, Gou happened to be there and witness it. It may be coincidental that she always happen to be in a place and time when Sousuke wasn’t feeling great. I was initially wondering why she never approached him in the moment and then you look at Sousuke’s pissy face and that’s probably why lmao. Regardless, Gou probably knew his state of mind, and hence decided to leave him to it. The look she gave him was more out of curiosity rather than concern but because the anime never went into detail about what she was thinking at the time, it’s hard to tell. Most important thing is that Gou was there during his vulnerable moments, before anyone knew of his shoulder injury...

Jelly Momo

Ngl, I absolutely love Momo, not only because he’s a hilarious character but because Sousuke always unintentionally cockblocks him when it comes to Gou. I just find it so funny. The poor thing. And Gou just has absolutely zero interest in him....

The thing is, Momo knows that Sousuke constantly gets in the way...it has happened several times already and I think he is also beginning to realise that Gou is probably quite fond of Sousuke, hence his very vocal comment about paying attention to him. i just love it how the anime framed it like this because you know it’s a running gag going on between all three.

Also, the look on Sousuke’s face in that above scene...you can’t see it but if you go back and watch it, and it’s only a split second when Momo moves his head, it’s absolutely hilarious. He legit has a “wtf” look on his face 😂

Just going to put this above scene here where Momo gets dragged away. Poor thing. I think at this point, Gou is catching on to something with Sousuke...

After Momo bombarded Gou with his hilarious hobbies, these two just ended up alone together ❤️

Season 3′s ending credits depict a lot of parallels between characters as well as some level of competitiveness between them. So maybe it is just a coincidence here but Sousuke and Momo together probably continues to depict the hilarious running gag between them and Gou. LOL!

Gou’s Concern

No really, when Sousuke walked out and decided to swim with his shoulder injury, the concerned look on Gou’s face. This was the first time in the whole entire series (season 3 included) where Gou showed this much concern...my heart. 

When there are problems in the Iwatobi swim club related to a character, a lot of the issues and concerns revolved around the other characters helping each other (Gou would be excluded). She is just a supporting character that does not get a lot screen time. Aside from her managerial duties, we don’t see too much of her during important/significant moments for a main character - unless she is interacting with Rin in some way. So her very minimal “interactions” with Sousuke during his vulnerable moments are considered somewhat significant (even if she just saw him walking by) because they are more symbolic than anything.

Off Screen Interactions

Okay, the amount of times Sousuke talked about Gou...they clearly talk a lot off screen and whether that be through text messages, phone calls or meeting up, I believe they are a combo of all three. I have several reasons to believe that they do hang out together quite a bit. 

1. The amount of times Gou keeps bumping into Sousuke randomly (ngl the times the audience sees is probably only a fraction to what actually goes on behind the scenes) 

2. In the later episodes, they have been seen walking home together. 

3. Some of the things Sousuke said to Rin about Gou would warrant more of a face to face conversation rather than something through text message. I mean unless they talk on the phone (that would be so fucking adorable aaaaahhhhhh) 

4. In the CD drama, they have been shown to hang out just the two of them over mediocre stuff so I am sure that would have met up and talked more about other more deeper things with each other

Gou obviously confided in Sousuke how lonely she felt because her older bro was neglecting her

LOOK AT THE AMOUNT OF TIMES HE TALKED ABOUT HER! That obviously indicated they do interact quite some bit off screen. Judging from the things they talked about, it sounded like she was filling him in with what’s going on in her life..and you know just every day stuff... I love it! They are so casual and so comfy with each other <33333333

Platinum Abs

Not counting the fact that I almost choked on my drink when I saw this for the first time, but I was curious to see what Gou thought of them. So I waited....and waited...and waited...and it never came, despite the fact that she was in his presence multiple times when he was looking like this....

And I came across several older posts that pointed this out and it totally validated what I felt as well. Gou, the muscle obsessive freak has not spoken a word about Sousuke’s nationally ranked swimmer’s perfect body. WILL YOU JUST LOOK AT THEM? HE’S FUCKING MASSIVE!! Like..all over....holy shit just look at those guns...like damn fine man.... anyways... so Gou, why have we not heard a single word from you about them? To her, they are probably the best of all the characters in the series ...

And my guess is... Sousuke is most likely special to her. She does not see him as merely an object of muscles (much like she does with the other characters including her own bro) but something more. And whether that is consciously or unconsciously, the outcome is still the same. Because when someone means a lot to you and if you like someone in that way, you are less likely to see them as an object of some fantasy...

The OVA

Yo not gonna leave this one out and if there is anything that really pushed this ship further, it was definitely the OVA.

Sousuke is so pedantic about what people call him (unless you are Nagisa...which he has almost no words for ...). So the only one who can add “kun” to his name is Gou <333333

I’m not going to delve too deeply into this as

1. It is self explanatory

2. A lot of people have already discussed this topic

But, overprotective Sousuke being a sweet guy and lending Gou his jacket is something out of a shojo manga. Even more shojo is that he;

1. Did it himself and not just giving the jacket to her

2. Got overly pissed off at Ai for drenching Gou

3. COULDN’T LOOK AT GOU WHEN HE GAVE HER THE JACKET....like the whole time....ksfklafkhgdshgjdsh

Sousuke isn’t very good with expressing himself, so this scene, out of his own sheer awkwardness, really played into the intimate nature of this potential ship. I’ll explain more later...

P. S. LOOK AT HOW ENORMOUS THE JACKET LOOKS ON GOU...she so schmol (and Sousuke is just massive...). Legit they look like a couple on a date...

Sunset Meeting

Ngl when I first started watching Season 3, this scene came out so unexpectedly I had to replay it just so it would process in my mind that it happened. But aside from the fact that it was framed in a shojo manga kinda way i.e. Gou running towards Sousuke, then walking together in the sunset and then talking about deep and meaningful stuff...you get the drift...I absolutely loved it how Gou was the very first person Sousuke told about his surgery’s success. Omg..swimming and the success of the surgery just meant so much to him and he was already telling Gou about it...

Everything about the particular scene was so so intimate. The scenery, the conversation, the tone of voice, the colours used......everything! Just look at how happy Gou is....

And damn they walked home together ... my heart cannot take it anymore aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh

Running Gag

I did notice this trend going on but it didn’t cross my mind until I read a post that it was like a thing between SouGou. Honestly it is so so cute! Gou has this excited pitched, giggle-ish, admiration-like tone every single time she calls out and runs to him. It’s so sweet. You actually never hear it ever when she talks or calls out to any other characters in the series, so Sousuke is indeed very special to her <3

Also...something about Sousuke walking alone and Gou either noticing him or running to him...

Gou and Momo’s Mistaken Date vs. Gou and Sousuke’s Mistaken Date

In Part 4 of the Free Take Your Marks movie, Rin walks by a burger shop and noticed Momo and Gou sitting together and having lunch. He mistakenly thought they were going out on a date, and before the rest of the Iwatobi team could come to the table after order their food, Rin gets a call from Sousuke telling him that he cannot find his way. So Rin dashes off to save Sousuke still with the misunderstanding. The episode is absolutely hilarious on Rin’s part.

Then in the CD drama, there is a story titled “Sousuke and Gou’s secret date.” Of course it is a case of ‘mistaken identity’ but as I stated earlier, these two would hang out with each other to discuss superficial things, so I am certain that they do hang out with each other on occasions to talk about other more deep and meaningful things as well. Considering the things Sousuke has been telling Rin about Gou, you can make an educated guess that SouGou do have their alone times quite a bit off screen.

Anyways, so this is the part where I believe Free has its subtle romantic undertones. I mentioned in my toxic masculinity post that when the male characters were being vulnerable, hugged or cried, that it does not necessarily mean they are gay, or that there would be any romantic development between the characters. You could say the same with SouGou as well, however, the difference lies in how the anime framed it, and the biggest tip that pushed from just a friendship kind of thing to a teasing of a potential romantic thing is the “secret date” part and the running gag between Gou, Sousuke and Momo. We know Momo clearly has romantic interest in Gou, and the interesting thing is...Sousuke being placed in between Gou and Momo numerous times throughout the anime to signify that there is a potential triangle going on. Does this make sense? It is the nuances as a viewer that you can pick up, and it is even more so if you can understand Japanese. I sometimes switch the subtitles off and really just watch what they say and it’s a completely different view. Hard to explain...but that is the vibe I get.

Extras

I just had to put this scene in. JUST LOOK AT GOU LOOKING AT SOUSUKE OMG. She totally loves him <3 YOU CAN’T TELL ME OTHERWISE!!!

I always love me some official artwork of these two, and disregarding the fact that there are four other guys around and Nagisa just being the little helper he is, SouGou wrestling is something I just need to have in my life <3 I just love the light subtle tease between these two. Thank you KyoAni! And them holding hands... I’m ded...

Sousuke’s Feelings

This is purely interpretation based on what I have seen so far and of course when I am writing a full post like this about SouGou, it does help piece the puzzle together a little more. Tbvh, I strongly believe that Sousuke has repressed feelings for Gou. My reasoning is quite complex. Sousuke is a bit of a difficult character. He is aloof, serious and can be standoffish. He is not good with expressing his emotions and feelings, yet he does questionable things if he thinks it is for the best for those he cares about. Obviously noticeable when he lied to Rin about his shoulder injury, and of course completely stopped talking to Rin and Gou after being injured. But he deeply cares for those around him, and will go out of his way to help, even if it is to the detriment of his own welfare. 

Sosuke hanging out with Gou and talking to her and being around her is already an aspect of his kindness, that he would do this to anyone he cares about. But what I meant about repressed feelings for Gou was more evident in the OVA, and I think that is where the slight nuances come into play. Sousuke is overprotective of Gou and he most likely sees her as a little sister, considering he grew up with her alongside his best friend. But I think when it comes down to more intimate moments i.e. giving Gou his jacket and just not being able to look at her, I think that small nuance does give a small insight into Sousuke’s feelings for Gou. It may be minute but it’s there, and the way the anime framed that scene, it evoked a host of response from the viewers. That in itself is enough for viewers to make a determination as to what Sousuke might be feeling towards Gou at the time ... and it was probably more than a platonic kind of way...

Just to let you know that Sousuke most likely would not act on these feelings because of who he is as a person. And if there is any possibility that things could go awry between him and Rin that concerns Gou, Sousuke would not put their friendship in jeopardy. So if there was ever a way that Sousuke’s repressed feelings for Gou could surface, it would be if Gou initiates.

Gou’s Feelings

If you read through this entire damn thesis so far I think you could see that Gou’s feelings for Sousuke is a lot more overt. She is so incredibly fond of Sousuke and it is just the way she behaves around him, speaks to him and looks at him. It sends a different vibe comparatively to when she interacts with any of the other male characters. Because Gou is a side character, as viewers we don’t get to see much of her, her development or her thoughts and feelings, especially in relation to Sousuke. 

Concluding Thoughts

What an incredibly long post. I didn’t realise how long it was until I scrolled back up. But really, this was so fun to write. I enjoy writing about side characters and the little hints that anime and manga give us as viewers. This is the best thing about storytelling, that is so much more than what you see before you.

The great thing about SouGou is the incredibly compatibility they have with each other. They have a lot of the common tropes found in anime that sets them up for a future pairing. I mean,, Free is not a romance genre so there wouldn’t be any emphasis placed on how one character feels about another in a romantic sense. So the anime has placed some gentle teasing in the background with its frame (usually what you see in shojo manga for example), official artworks, and CD dramas. It’s a very subtle undertone that the viewers would have to dig through and pick up out of the mass of fanservice and the storylines of the main characters. Yet this is the reason why I love KyoAni because of its numerous layers of stories and undertone!

In my opinion, if there was ever any pairing that comes out of Free, it would definitely be SouGou - it’s because the way the anime (and probably the light novel as well) set them up and emphasised on important aspects of their relationship without going into detail about it.

I gotta say, the reason why I love these two so much is because they remind me so much of TsukiYachi pairing from Haikyuu. There are parallels between the characters and I think I just enjoy shipping ones with that level of complexity and compatibility - the whole opposites attract kinda thing (and the height difference).

So what do you think? Are there any SouGou stans out there left? I’m keen to see what the 2021 Free movie will entail for these two and the potential release of Season 4 (most likely in 2022).

Fingers crossed for some excitement!

Also...I had to crop this <3

[mrs-hatake]

break-up with your boyfriend i’m bored

Pairing: mafia boss! dabi x reader ft aizawa x reader

Genre: jealousy

Warnings: degrading words, explicit mentions of sex (speak wise) and a slap?

A/N: original version can be found on my kpop account @ikonct95​ 

This isnspired by the many mafia fics and that one scene from gossip girl with 

Soft jazz music was playing in the grand gala. This year’s auction theme is 1920s in New York and guests must dress accordingly. As the girlfriend of the esteemed museum director, Aizawa Shouta, you had to strictly follow the rules. You wore a knee length red wine dress with black beadings. The dress had a modest v neck that is framed by sleeveless sleeves that shimmy with a sparkling fringe. Wanting to enjoy tonight’s theme fully, you decided to cut your hair a week ago so that it perfectly suited the flapper girl image. Your once waist length black hair is now a cute little bob that barely reached below your ears in an ‘s’ shaped wave and you completed off the look with a black headband with red rhinestones that shyly sparkled under the fluorescent lights

Aizawa hadn’t stopped complimenting you all the way to the gala, a quick kiss here and a little touch there, it was starting off to a great night.

That is, however, until you spotted your ex-fiancé mingling with some of the auctioneers. 

Dabi was your ex-fiancé of two years and is also one of the unofficially richest men in Japan. Unofficially because he is also a famous mafia boss.

Avoiding him was easy. You immersed yourself mingling with Aizawa’s acquaintances, the benefactors and the countless nameless auctioneers at the gala. But soon, Aizawa had to excuse himself to make some final check ups before the auction began in less than an hour.

As you stood in front of the jazz band, fruity drink in hand, you felt a presence approach you from behind and you didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

“Dabi,” You said as a form of greeting, “What an unpleasant surprise.”

Dabi chuckled as he stood next to you, “Always a delight to meet you, Y/N.” his voice was as smooth as velvet.

You took a sip of your fruity drink as a way to steal a quick glance at your former lover. Dabi was a man who valued his appearance, not as a fashionista but as a man with prestige, with money and power. He was dressed in an all black suit, no tie in sight. His dyed black hair was slicked to the side giving it a wet look. Dabi has always been an attractive man, despite the many scars that covered the majority of his body. Scars that you have yet to have the privilege of being informed of how he had acquired them, despite the two of you being engaged at one point.

“Although I am surprised to see you here.” Dabi spoke with genuine wonder as he turned to face you, “As I recall, you were never into the arts.”

You resisted the strong urge of rolling your eyes at him. The last time you’ve spoken or even seen Dabi was almost three years ago when you were twenty four years old and he a mere twenty two year old. Now, you are twenty seven years old and are a different woman.

“I’m here in support of my boyfriend, he’s the museum director that is in charge of some of the artworks being auctioned here tonight.” You didn’t mean for the smug smirk to stretch across your red painted lips but seeing Dabi’s eyebrows furrow just a little bit was worth it.

“Your boyfriend?”

You nodded as you took another sip of your almost empty fruity drink. The jazz band switched from a slightly fast paced and upbeat song to a slower, gentler one. “He’s the one in a green velvet suit.” You pointed your finger and Dabi followed it to see a man, with half his hair up in a bun, scurrying by the stage as he instructed for the staff to be as gentle as possible with some of the more delicate artifact.

“Him?” Dabi snorted, “You could do so much better.”

Insulted on behalf of your boyfriend, you glared at Dabi, “He’s a man you wish you could ever be.” and turned around to walk away from him and perhaps engage once more with the some of the auctioneers, just anything to get you away from Dabi.

But a hand tightly gripped your wrist to halt you while an arm slithered its way across your waist and Dabi’s front pressed against your back, “Don’t be like that.” he chuckled, his warm breath tickled your ear which sent a delicious shiver down your spine. “I was just teasing.” He chuckled again, “I’m sure he’s a…great man.”

Blood boiled at the implications behind his words. But not wanting to cause a scene on one of the most important nights of Aizawa’s career, you simply said, “He’s a wonderful man…very vigorous.” it didn’t take a genius to understand the innuendo hidden in your words. Which is probably why Dabi’s grip on your wrist tightened considerably.

“Oh, is he now?” The younger man asked as he pressed his nose into your hair, slightly inhaling your scent.

“Mmhmm.” You fought the urge of closing your eyes shut at the overwhelming sensation. It was embarrassing, really, that you got so worked up without Dabi really doing anything.

“What does he call you when you make love?” Dabi pecked your temple. He let go of your wrist and instead, held your small hand in his bigger, rougher one and brought it up to rest it atop of your right breast, right where your heart would be, “Where does he put his hands?”

A shaky gasp escaped through your lips as he dragged your entwined hands across your collarbones.

A strong shiver went down your spine as he dragged his lips from your neck all the way to your ear to whisper, “Does he know how loud you can scream if his tongue flicks your clitoris rapidly?” His hand then dropped yours and brought it to clutch your thighs tightly.

Dabi then nipped your ear, his breath fanning the now sensitive area, before whispering, “Does he know how much of a whore you really are?”

It happened quickly. One minute you were entranced by Dabi’s words and his sinful lips and the next, your left hand came in contact with his cheek. A sharp and resounding slap that had his head turned to the side from the impact, could be heard.

Only a few of the attendants surrounding you reacted to the action. Thankfully, the jazz band continued to play as they did not want to bring any more attention to you.

Tears brimmed your eyes as you harshly glared at Dabi, who now had a bright red mark on his cheek, “How dare you.” You hissed through clenched teeth.

A wicked smirk stretched across his lips as he took in the ferocity burning in your eyes, “It’s true.” Dabi had the nerve to say, seeming unaffected by your slap.

“I’ve let you had your fun, Y/N, and I’ve had enough. It’s about time you come back home where you belong, with me.”

Before you could slap Dabi again, a hand grabbing your raised arm prevented you from doing so. Only this time, the hold was gentle and you quickly turned to come face to face with Aizawa.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?” His outer demeanor looked calm but you’ve been dating him for a year and a half now and you knew that he was trying to keep his cool. His eyes warily scanned Dabi.

“Everything’s fine.” Dabi rushed to reply in a sickeningly sweet voice before turning to face you, “It was good to see you, Y/N. We should meet again soon.” And with another smile, Dabi walked away with swagger in his steps.

Instantly, Aizawa had you in his arms, “Are you okay?”

Aizawa didn’t know about Dabi, didn’t know about your past life as the fiancé of a dangerous mafia boss. But he knew that whoever that man was that had been touching you was trouble. He had so many questions to ask but your quivering form in his arms prevented him from doing so.

“Take me home.”

[deijnar]

The only one who makes me nervous

Incredible but true - I wrote something! And am posting it!

This is my piece for the great @mysme-rbb and I got to collaborate with @braincellbank, definitely check their artwork out! The CMC used in this is theirs ^-^

You can also find the fic on Ao3!

So here goes a lot of fluffy, cute Jaehee pining~

╰⊱♥⊱╮●╭⊱♥≺

With suspicion, Jaehee squints her eyes at the ingredients on the countertop of her and Lila's brand new cafe. After months of preparation and an almost breakdown when she asked them to become her partner for this adventure, Jaehee's dream finally comes true - a cute, domestic yet elegant cafe that she owns with her best friend.

But…

"There was more chocolate."

Lila's eyes widen and they furrow their eyebrows, looking at the potential crime scene as well. "Huh? What do you mean?" They check the scale. "It's the exact amount we need for the recipe."

Jaehee shakes her head, looking at the pieces in the bowl. "I could have sworn I put more in there…"

"You're probably just nervous! We're about to bake our very first cake for the cafe, isn't it exciting?" 

The way they beam at Jaehee makes her chest feel warm and her knees go a little weak, causing Jaehee to forget what she was just thinking about entirely.

"That must be it, I'm sure you're right. This is what I've dreamed of for a very long time, I feel all… fluttery inside." To hide her soft chuckle, Jaehee turns her head away a little and shields her mouth with one of her hands. Showing emotion is still… foreign to her and she is still shy about it.

Lila clicks their tongue in disapproval. "Now come over here and let me see that stunning face of yours, we have work to do! I'm all excited for this too but I'm waiting for the proper view." Demanding, they motion to the space across from them, followed by a little wink.

As all of Lila's teasing does, their comment makes Jaehee's heart hiccup in her chest, a too familiar heat already painting her cheeks in a soft blush. There’s only one way to deal with them when they get like that…

Speaking Korean, especially if the sentences are long and spoken fast, is the only way for Jaehee to feel like she is still somewhat in control when she is around Lila. Given that Korean is not their first language and they’re still learning, they tend to get really sheepish when they don’t understand something. And, for Jaehee, it’s the only weapon she has to not let Lila’s boldness knock her out. 

Normally, she speaks English around them or slow, easy Korean. But not in moments like this.

“If only you knew what you’re doing to me with such behavior…” 

Jaehee keeps her voice low and talks fast, even a fluent speaker would have had trouble to understand her.

“What was that?” The cocky grin on their face immediately shrinks to a shy expression and Jaehee can’t help but feel a little guilty, although relieved. 

Of course she hates it to make her friend feel insecure, she wants to make them feel just as strong and support them just as much as they do for her. But sometimes she has to do this, only to not combust due to the hidden feelings in her heart.

“Oh, nothing. Let’s start baking.” With a somewhat apologetic smile, she walks up to Lila and stands on the other side of the countertop, looking at the instructions in front of her. Now, she has to fire Lila’s confidence in themself again. “How about you start with the dough while I try out these decorations? Your doughs always turn out amazing.” The proud gleam in Lila’s eyes that Jaehee likes to see so much is back immediately. “They do indeed. What are you making?” Curiously, they get to their tiptoes, trying to get a peek of the picture she is holding. “Some flowers.” Calculating, she leans her head to the side, inspecting the pictures as well, lowering the piece of paper so it's easier for Lila to see. “I’ve never tried to make these before but I wanted to set myself a challenge. Hopefully, they’ll turn out fine.” “I’m sure they’ll turn out perfect. Like you.” One of Lila’s hands lands on Jaehee’s cheek, presumably for encouragement, and Jaehee can practically feel their chuckle as she straightens as if the touch burned her skin. Which it really seems to do, given how hot she feels all of a sudden. “Y-yes. I… Maybe. Yes, I’ll do my best.”

Not knowing what else she could possibly say that wouldn’t give away how fast her heart is beating, Jaehee gets to work. She presses her lips together and tries to ignore Lila’s gaze she can clearly feel on herself as she begins to knead and color the fondant. 

Luckily, Lila decides to be merciful and not make any more comments that get Jaehee out of her concentration, maybe so they can get to work as well. 

It doesn’t take the young woman long to forget everything around herself as she fully focuses on the task at hand. She gets lost in the thrill of trying new, challenging things and the rewarding feeling when an experiment with one of her utensils works out, giving the flowers as they are described in the instructions her own twist. One petal after the next is formed and, after some time, Jaehee finds a routine, the activity having a quite calming and almost meditative effect on her. 

Her thoughts wander.

And, as they do so very often, they wander to the wonderful person standing in front of her right now. 

It’s been a few months since they’ve met, got to know each other and even ended up as close as they are right now. Not much, in Jaehee’s opinion, and yet she can barely recall a time where Lila hasn’t been in her life, much less can or does she want to imagine a future without them. They have saved her from her monotone, stressful life that never would have gained her any kind of happiness and turned it upside down. They have turned it into an unpredictable, exciting adventure, the only goal being to chase their dreams and find joy. Together.

Never again does Jaehee want to be without Lila’s stirring presence that doesn’t only bring spice but also light into her life.

Of course it hadn’t been easy for Jaehee to admit to herself that she’d fallen in love. Of course she had been scared of rejection, of the possible heartbreak. Of the risks that come with loving someone so deeply, even after such a short period of time, only falling deeper for their captivating soul more and more with every passing day. 

But no matter how strong her fears had been, by that, they only became the evidence for her feelings for Lila. And finally, after multiple sleepless nights, Jaehee had not only faced the truth that she’s helplessly lost her heart to the best friend she’s ever had, she also came to the conclusion that all of this turmoil is worth it. That the nagging fear is nothing compared to the exciting tingle that runs from the center of her stomach through her entire body as soon as Lila walks into the room. That a possible heartbreak is a price she is willing to pay, as long as she gets to feel the way she does for a little while longer every time Lila smiles at her, only her.

And now, they’re working together, they’re partners. Maybe they’ll never be more than that, friends and partners, but Jaehee knows that, at least, they will always be together. Even if she should slip one day - Lila won’t just leave her for the way she feels. In that, Jaehee trusts unconditionally. In Lila, she trusts unconditionally.

Before she knows it, she’s used up the last bit of fondant, has created the last flower for the day. Proudly, Jaehee looks down at the decorations in front of her, all kinds of blossoms in many different colors, shades and sizes spreading out on the table. 

"I did it!" The excitement in her voice is very clear and maybe, normally, she would try to conceal it to keep her countenance. But right now, she's way too happy and feels way too safe and comfortable with Lila to even care.

"I knew it!" There's some flour on Lila's cheek as they grin at Jaehee. "I told you they'll look perfect. You did it!"

Far from sick of looking at her own creations, Jaehee smiles down at the sugary decoration in front of her again. Then, she turns her head up to look at Lila again, unaware of the fact that her friend had just started leaning forward to peck her cheek. 

Lila's lips land on the corner of Jaehee's mouth and she freezes. Time seems to stop and so does her heartbeat.

As to be expected, Lila isn't fazed by it at all. On the contrary, they seem to enjoy it quite a lot judging by the amused grin on their face and the fact that they stay much closer than they'd need to. They're not even saying anything and yet Jaehee feels like she will be reduced to an inarticulate, blushy mess in mere seconds. 

There’s nothing she can do but pointedly look to the side to stop her brain from short-circuiting. No matter how much she wants to look at her stunning friend, she can’t, knowing that, if she would, she couldn't rip her eyes off the lips she so badly wants to feel on hers.

And at that moment, there's just one thing Jaehee can do.

"While investing in the stock market, it's very important to maximize the possible outcome for your transaction while simultaneously minimizing the risk you take."

Although she's speaking her native tongue, Jaehee stumbles over her own words with how quickly she is saying them. Also, she's not even sure if what she just said actually makes sense.

Yet, the words have the effect she was desperately hoping for - Lila softly shakes their head, the threateningly teasing expression on their face making way for utter confusion as they subconsciously draw back a few inches.

Jaehee hates it as much as it makes her feel relieved.

"What?"

"Nothing!" Quickly, Jaehee turns to face the table again, unnecessarily starting to sort the flowers still laying there by size. If she's confronted with that gorgeous face any longer, she won't be able to hold back anymore. "We should-"

Before she can bring up her suggestion to give the cake more layers than they'd originally planned, Lila gently places their hand on hers on the table between them. 

If she is honest to herself, Jaehee knows that she wants nothing to be between them anymore, to separate them.

At first, she still refuses to look at Lila. Even without getting lost in those lovely eyes of the person that saved her from the miserable life she has been living - the speed of her heartbeat is already concerning. 

But the light caress of their soft fingers on her skin makes her slowly, carefully, look up at them again, bringing her even closer to the figure she wants to embrace and never let go. 

She really wants the piece of furniture gone.

"Do I truly make you this nervous?"

Lila's voice is low and raw, not hiding the emotions behind their words. They sound surprisingly hopeful and… a little scared?

Not trusting her voice to do what she wants, Jaehee just nods. Shouldn't Lila know about the effect they have on her? With how much they've been playing around with it, Jaehee has been convinced they know.

But Lila shakes their head.

"I mean, is it me who makes you nervous? Or is it the flirting, the teasing? Would you get flustered by anyone acting like this?"

Trying to calm down her rapidly beating heart, Jaehee shakes her head. She swallows, wanting her words to be audible and the truth in them to be apparent. 

"I get flustered because it's you, Lila. It's not just the teasing. Everything you do makes me nervous somehow. But at the same time, you're the only person that can truly calm me down."

As to prove her statement, she nervously averts her gaze. She doesn't know much about friendship and how it works, she's worried she's said too much. And Lila is so close… Concentrating is impossible.

Time seems to be standing still. 

This may be because Lila stands still, a thing they usually never do. It makes Jaehee feel a bit uneasy, she isn't sure what to think of this or what to expect, it's so atypical for her friend.

Her thoughts keep running, trying to figure out what exactly is happening right now and how to act further. Eventually, after not finding any satisfying answer, Jaehee decides to slowly turn her head back to look at Lila again. 

The intensity in Lila's eyes keeps her in place as soon as their gazes lock. Now both of them seem to be frozen in time, just staring at each other.

(by @braincellbank​)

Jaehee has no idea what this means or what step should be taken next, let alone by whom. She just knows that she doesn't want to look away.

When Lila finally moves, it happens suddenly and fast. 

Jaehee's eyes widen when they suddenly jerk forward, and they widen even more as Lila presses their lips to hers.

It takes Jaehee's brain a moment to catch up to what's happening, to understand it. To understand that this is real, that what she's secretly dreamed of and fantasized about for weeks and months truly is happening, right here and now.

But as soon as it sinks in, her eyes flutter closed and her free hand, the one Lila isn't touching, finds their cheek.

The kiss feels like heaven.

Soon, Lila relaxes into Jaehee's touch and the frantic, nervous hectic of the firm pressing of their lips shifts into a soft, loving exploration.

In no time, Jaehee is entirely captivated, forgetting that the world exists around them and even if she would remember, she wouldn't care. All she cares about is Lila. 

Lila's touch, their warmth, their scent. The fact that this kiss feels even better than she could have ever imagined it. 

Her heart beats so fast it seems like it's trying to fly out of her chest to catapult itself into the sky to rejoice.

And Lila's lips taste so sweet…

Too sweet.

With a gasp, Jaehee breaks the kiss.

"You did snack on the chocolate! I knew it!"

Throwing their head back, Lila laughs, their earlier stillness nowhere to be found anymore. Their smile is just as wide as Jaehee's and they look just as happy as her.

Jaehee couldn't care less about the chocolate.

"Guess you've caught me." Another sly smile makes it to their lips. "Guess I'll have to make up for it…"

A quiet, displeased noise slips over Jaehee's lips as Lila draws back. But soon, they've made their way around the table and Jaehee finds herself in their arms, embracing them as well on instinct. 

"I don't think I want to bake anymore today." 

They're both grinning at each other before their lips meet in another kiss.

[micks-so-cold]

𝕀 𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕋𝕠 𝕄𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕋𝕠 𝕐𝕠𝕦

001: y/n moves to California with her mom. Mick is her new neighbor and decides to greet y/n. (Smut)

My mom and I just arrived at our new house in Southern California. We didn’t have an exact reason for moving here specifically; we just wanted to get out of Washington.

A couple months ago, my father passed away from cancer, and our huge house in Washington wasn’t cutting it for us anymore. The extra space only reminded us of his absence more—it only brought us more sadness. So we did the only thing we could—sell it and move far away.

It was late at night when we finally got settled in to our new home. Almost all our possessions were unboxed, except for my own items which were all sitting in boxes in my room.

“I’m going to unbox some of my stuff before heading to bed,” I tell my mom as I stand up from the couch and walk to the trashcan to toss my paper plate away. We decided to have takeout for dinner since there was next to no food in the house.

“I might do the same thing, y/n,” my mom says, standing up and throwing away her plate as well. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

She stands with her arms open, ready for a hug, which I obviously agree to. I never really was a ‘hugger’ until my dad’s death. I didn’t realize how much I would miss his hugs until he passed. I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t do to hug him one last time. And because of that, mom and I made it routine to hug at least once a day. She needed the support as much as I did—I could tell.

My room had only one window, which happened to be facing my neighbor’s window. There wasn’t really a ‘scenic’ view like most people would want, or like I had in Washington, but I didn’t mind it. I’d probably keep my curtains shut most of the time regardless of what was outside. That’s what I always did at my old house. I liked my privacy.

Given that, the first thing I decide to do is put up my curtains. It was pretty late, seven o’clock, to be exact, but as I looked out the window, I noticed the summer night sky still had traces of the pink and orange sunset from earlier in the evening. I like to think my dad was making the sunsets for my mom and me; I like to imagine him painting the sky, blending the warm and cool colors together, and watching us admire his beautiful artwork.

As I worked on hanging my curtains, I hear something hit my window. I drop the curtain rod, catching it only just before it could touch the ground.

I look out the window to see what had made the noise and jump back, surprised, when I see a boy, who looked to be only a couple years older than me, standing only a few feet away from my window.

Was I dreaming? Or is walking up to people’s windows just a normal thing in California?

The boy had long, messy, dark brown hair that swept in front of his face and pouty, deep pink lips. He wore a white sweater and black skinny jeans that fit him well.

I didn’t realize I had drawn myself into a trance until the boy snapped me out of it. “Open the window for me so I can stop yelling?” he questions. His voice didn’t sound too loud to me, but I could tell it was raised so I could hear.

I unlock the window and push it up. When I look back up at him, he had a subtle smirk on his face that caused my cheeks to flush a light shade of pink. I look down slightly, hoping he wouldn’t be able to see my blush, though I’m sure he could.

“You’re new, aren’t you? Figured I’d introduce myself. Didn’t mean to frighten you,” he speaks in a deep voice and noticeably slow tone. I just now noticed his thick British accent. “I’m Mick.” He moves a little closer, twirling a joint around his pointer and middle fingers as he does so.

“Throwing rocks at windows is actually a great way to frighten your new neighbors,” I state, regaining a little bit of my composure.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Mick chuckles, like I was the silly one. He leans down and picks up a dirty tennis ball, holding it up for me to see. “That’s why I used this.”

“Right, because that’s so much better,” I say sarcastically.

He tosses the ball to the side. “Certainly is.” I watch him run his fingers through his hair a few times. He glances up at me, like he was waiting for me to speak.

“Okay, Mick, I’ve got to finish unpacking my things. Thanks for stopping by,” I tell him. I didn’t know what to say, and, frankly, I didn’t really want him here. It wasn’t that I didn’t like him—I’m just tired, and I have to unpack before I go to sleep. There was plenty of time tomorrow. He could talk to me then.

I reach up to shut the window, but Mick put his foot up on the window sill. “Don’t I get a name at least? You know, before you kick me out.” His smirk never left his face until he brought his joint up to his lips. He breathes in and turns his head to the side, letting out a puff of smoke, before turning his attention back to me.

“I have the right to kick you out if I never invited you in the first place,” I explain, humored at his persistence. “But my name is y/n.”

“Y/n?” Mick questions. He goes back to twirling the joint between his fingers. “Y/n, what a beautiful name. Y/n.” His voice was almost teasing, but it made my face warm.

“Mick, I-I really—” I start to speak, but he cuts me off.

“You’re really blushing, aren’t you, y/n?” He speaks in a whisper. His blue eyes stare into mine, and his tongue traces his plump upper lip. “You like when I say your name, don’t you, y/n?”

I stood there silently, mouth slightly open, shocked at just how bold someone could be within minutes of knowing another person. Is this how Mick acts with everyone he meets?

“Well, I’m sorry for wasting your time,” Mick interrupts my thoughts. How long have I been silent?

He must think I’m weird now. And I couldn’t blame him. I should’ve replied to his question. But how am I supposed to respond to that?

“Let me make it up to you—I’ll help you get your stuff out of those boxes,” he suggests.

So maybe he didn’t think I was too weird.

His eyes trail away from my face and to the few things that I had inside. He even peaks his head inside to see the emptiness that was on the sides of the room.

“It’s okay. I’ll manage. Thanks,” my voice was quiet—I was nervous. I seemed to only get more nervous the longer we talked. That’s not how conversations should work.

Mick shakes his head and steps inside. For some reason, I didn’t bother stopping him. “I insist,” he tells me, placing his hand over his heart and bowing ever so slightly. We were standing closer now; only a few inches remain between us, and I had to look up at him to make eye contact. He was taller than me—by four inches, at least.

Anxiously, I take a couple steps back and play with my fingers—a nervous habit of mine. Mick follows me, though. Each step I take away from him, he takes one toward me.

On my last step back, my foot gets caught on the curtain rod I was trying to get in place before Mick decided to throw a tennis ball at my window. I stumble backward, squeeze my eyes shut, and let out a squeal as I fall to the ground.

But I don’t end up falling to the ground.

I open my eye to see Mick holding me. His hands were placed on my lower back. “Good thing I stayed, huh? Would’ve landed on your bum,” He chuckles.

“Nuh uh,” I protest. “I wouldn’t have fallen if you weren’t still here...and if you weren’t...” I squirm a little in his arms which were still loosely wrapped around my body. “If you weren’t...” I didn’t want to admit what I was planning to say next.

Mick smiles. “If I wasn’t?” He pulls his bottom lip with his teeth and unexpectedly pulls me toward him. Our bodies were now touching, and I’m sure my heart rate doubled. The rough fabric of his jeans brushed against my bare legs which were only covered by the small, black athletic shorts I wore during the day. “Finish that thought for me, y/n.”

I shake my head.

“Don’t make me force it out of you,” he whispers in my ear, sending shivers down my body. A warm wave rushed through my insides.

I shake my head once again.

“Answer my question...don’t be a bad girl,” he whispers in the same ear, dominance clear in his voice. His breath tickled my ear. I grip the fabric of my white T-shirt and bunch it together in an attempt to keep my composure.

Mick moves his hands off my back and grabs my hands, prying them off the fabric and holding them tightly in his hands. “Am I going to have to punish you?” His fingers slowly rub circles on my palms. “Tell me, y/n, do you think you deserve to be punished?”

I don’t know what came across my, and I don’t know exactly what Mick meant by the word ‘punish,’ but something told me to agree with him. So I nod my head.

“Your words, y/n, use them.” Mick cocked his head to the side while he stared at my lips. He lifted one of his hands to my bottom lip and ran his thumb across it. “I want you to tell me you deserve to be punished.”

“Mick...” I speak, my voice quiet and squeaky, while he held his thumb on my lower lip. “I deserve to...be punished.”

“Good,” he blandly says, licking his lips before immediately taking control.

He pushes me back with his hands which were placed on the top of my chest. My trembling legs eventually hit the side of my queen size bed, and Mick wastes no time pushing my back down to the bed. “I’ll get those words out of you,” he chuckles in a cynical manner. “If it’s the last thing I do, y/n.”

I breathe out heavy pants and nod my head. Mick slips his warm hands under my T-shirt and his fingers crawl up to the cups of my bra. He presses his lips to mine and tugs on my lip with his teeth. “Pretty girl,” he mumbled as he continues his gentle kiss.

I reach to wrap my arms around his torso, but Mick stops me. He lifts his hands off my bra and grabs my hands. “Not so fast, darling. Not when you’re being punished,” he strictly spoke. He gets up off the bed. And walks to the other side of the room.

I frown and sit up. I didn’t want him to go away. I liked this. Whatever it was. I liked the excitement. “You’re...leaving?” I was hesitant to ask. I hope he couldn’t hear the disappointment in my voice.

Mick chuckles. “Of course not.” I watch him reach for a box and untie the thin rope that was wrapped around it to keep it shut. He gripped the rope in one hand and walked back over to me, taking off his shirt as he did so.

I curl up in the corner of the bed, partially nervous, mostly excited. I admire Mick’s slim, toned body as he walks toward me.

“Don’t keep staring at me like that, baby. You’re making me cocky,” he says with a smirk, though we both knew he was already quite cocky. Quickly, I look away with hot cheeks.

He drops the rope on the bed and crawls over to me. “This needs to go,” he says, referring to my shirt, as he pulls it over my head, leaving me in just my black bra with a small lace bow in the center. Mick smiles when he sees it, though I felt embarrassed. I would’ve worn more appropriate clothes had I known this is what I’d be participating in tonight.

“You’re adorable, y/n.” I like watching his lips as he spoke—I liked watching his lips move when my name rolled off his tongue. He licks his lips before removing the clasp from my bra with one hand, clearly experienced, and tossing it to the empty side of the bed. He grabs the rope in place of the bra.

He doesn’t bother explaining to me what he was doing, but I already had a clue when he started to tie my wrists together. And once the knot was secure, he tied the loose ends to the bed frame of my bed.

This was the last thing I expected to happen on my first night in California, but I was glad it was happening. There was something about Mick that I liked, something I just couldn’t quite place my finger on.

“Look at you,” Mick spoke, his voice in awe. He moves over me, his hips only an inch apart from me, and grasps my breast. His thumb circles over my nipple, moving slowly, and he watches my facial expressions as he does so.

I squirm and thrust my hips upward, only to be pushed back down by him. “Still, baby. I want you still,” he requests. “If you’re getting a kick out of this...” he eyes down at my breast which he was still vigorously working on. “Then I just don’t know how you’ll survive when I move further down.” His deep voice made me feel damp down there, something I haven’t felt in a while.

“M-mick,” I gasp when he brings his mouth to my nipple that he wasn’t massaging. His tongue swirls around my breast and I couldn’t help but moan. “More, more, Mick,” I groan and shake my hands, trying to get them out of the tight hold Mick put them in. I wanted to feel him. I wanted my hands in his hair. I wanted my hands on his body. I needed to pull him closer, but I couldn’t.

I arch my back trying to get closer to him as his mouth and hand still worked on my breasts. “Shh, baby,” he hums, clearly pleased with how much I was struggling. “I know you want me, but you’ve been a bad girl, remember?” He teases me.

“I’m sorry...I-I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I need to-to touch you, Mick. I know I’m a bad girl...but I need you.”

Mick ignores my pleads. “What kind of punishment would this be if I gave you what you wanted?” He pokes fun while I continue moving around, trying to get to him.

He continues his suck on my breast while his other hand moves down to my shorts. His fingers slide under the elastic waistband with ease and he pushes them down to my knees.

He suddenly stops working on my breast and sits up. He begins to run his fingers along the seams of my underwear. “I hope you’re ready, baby,” he looks at me with a gentle smile before directing his attention to my panties.

He aggressively presses his fingers over my clit which was covered only by a light pink fabric. I close my eyes at his touch which had such an effect on me—an effect I would probably never understand. “You’re so wet for me,” he comments, pleased with himself. “And I’ve barely even explored down here yet, doll.”

He pulls down my damp panties. “Open your eyes. I didn’t tell you you could close your eyes,” Mick demands. I do as I was told and when I open my eyes I see him holding my cotton panties by the waistband in front of us, very close to my face.

“See what I’ve done to you, y/n?” He asks. I look at the darker pink area of the panties that he caused. I nod my head. Of course I knew what he did to me.

“Next time you wear these, you’ll think of me, understood?” He asks for confirmation. “You’ll remember just how wet I can make you—just how much power I have over you. Got it?”

I nod my head. There was no way I could forget this, even if I wanted to.

“Speak.” His voice was demanding.

“I understand,” I whimper, desperate for his hands and mouth to explore me once again.

“You understand what?” Mick wanted the full sentence.

“Mick,” I groan his name. “I-I understand that you...you hold power over me.” My voice was whiny. I needed him to touch me right now.

“That’s right,” he says, satisfied.

Finally, he brings his finger down to my pussy and plays with my flaps. His warm fingers knew the exact speed at which I liked. I try squeezing my legs together but am expectedly stopped by Mick.

“No, y/n,” he states, looking me dead in the eyes as he continues to work at my pussy. “You’re a bad girl. I don’t know how many times I have to remind you. You don’t get to choose what you do anymore. That’s for me to decided.” Mick’s dominance was more apparent now than ever.

He brought his pointer finger down to my hole and shoved it into me without any warning. I shudder and let out a whimper, immediately thrusting my hips up. “Mick...Mick...” I moan his name. “More,” I whisper.

He shoves two more fingers inside me, and I rattle my arms uncontrollably as his fingers trace up and down my walls, exploring anywhere they please. Mick smiles at my fight to restrict myself as much as possible.

“I hope you’re learning your lesson, baby.” He starts pumping his fingers in and out, slowly at first, but then gradually picking up the pace.

“Faster,” I groan. “Faster.”

“Beg some more and I’ll consider it,” he teases me. I could hear the smile in his voice. “Say my name. Tell me just how bad of a girl you were. Beg for it, y/n.”

“Mick,” I gasp. “Mick I need it...I-I need...it...faster.” My voice rose as I spoke, as I became more and more desperate. “I’ve been a very bad girl, I-I know...but I need it faster...harder.”

And Mick complies. His three-finger pumps become more aggressive. He was faster. “My sweet girl, how do you feel?” He asks me.

“I feel...” I lose track of what I was saying as I was too caught up with his actions.

“Do you feel like you can finish that sentence now.? ‘If you weren’t so...’” He curls his fingers inside of me, making me shake the bed frame. “Have you been punished enough, y/n?”

I nod my head, eagerly. “If you weren’t so...intimidating.”

A/N: Hi!! This is my first fan fiction I’ve written and I hope you like it! Feel free to suggest any prompts you want to read. I’d love to write them. :) Thanks so much for reading! Xx

[thatonesadending]

Caleb gets to show Molly his Tower, but Essek doesn't approve (Chapter 3)

Caleb knew he was being childish, overly excited. But he had put a lot of work into his tower, spent a lot of time thinking about his friends and their own stories, and how they impacted him. He was eager to share it with Molly. The man was that was ostentation to a fault, and so Caleb thought he might appreciate how much thought and whimsy he had put into their little band of hero’s home away from home.

He lead Molly through the entrance of the Tower, he hadn't explained anything, and the tieflings reaction didn't disappoint.

“What the fucking hell. I am still dead aren't I?” He had almost ghosted past Caleb to the middle of the Entryway. Looking up, he gasped and put his hands on his hips. “Caleb Widogast, you tricked me. You made me think I was going back to the material plane, but this, - this is Heaven, isn't it.”

Caleb couldn't help but chuckle at the mocking tone. He was surprised when Molly looked back away from the ceiling, and stode back to Caleb to clasp his shoulders. “I knew you were a sneaky little bastard, smarter then you let on. Good Boy.” Caleb should have felt embarrassed at the teasing praise, but he wasn’t, at least not yet. Mollymauk continued to wander around the Entryway. He spent a good long while asking questions and Caleb gladly answering.

“How do you get up there?” Molly pointed up thru the center of the tower, after taking in all the windows and art surrounding him.

“Come, I will show you.” Caleb offered his hand to the other man, normally he would not be so bold, but he was riding a high from having all of his worries and suspicions so easily dowsed. He could overthink things later, currently, he just wanted to think about the now, something that Molly valued.

Molly took it easy, and Caleb told him all he had to do was think “up”. Of course, in an effort not to be outdone, he said what Caleb could guess was the infernal translation and pulled the wizard with him.

They made it to the center of the salon floor before Mollymauk stopped and stared. Truth be told, isn't not that Caleb had forgotten, but he had never thought Molly would see the salon, never prepared an explanation for the large stained glass window. He had made it of course as a tribute that the other Nien would appreciate as much as he. It hadn't occurred to Caleb until that moment that he had surrounded his books, his knowledge around the lighted artwork that represented Mollymauk Tealeaf.

“Caleb, I -” he wasn't sure he had ever experienced Molly speechless before. Embarrassment was spreading up his neck, and Caleb wanted to find a way to explain, minimize - lie - about the significance of the fact that the third floor of the Mighty Niens home has a vast library containing all the books and knowledge Caleb ever held dear, and a larger than life depiction of Molly’s tattoos, that case color and light on all of Caleb’s texts. He wanted to say that he had just made it as a comfort for his still grieving friends, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t lie.

Surprisingly Cad started answering some of Molly’s questions when he eventually stopped staring. It wasn't until Caleb scanned the room and remembered that Essek was also with them, that he realized Caduceus was being more polite than him.

Caleb tentatively walked over to the other wizard, unsure of what to say. There had been a lot of floating and conflicting feelings around the two of them as of late, but Caleb had just started to feel like they had been unraveling them, getting to a place where they could be more than friends with a tentative trust. But then Caleb had asked Essek on this trip, and then literally kissed the enemy. He had no idea what the man must be thinking.

“Thank you for guarding me, you know - while I cast th-”, but he was caught off by Essek.”

“This is foolish.” Caleb hadn't been expecting the reprimand. Essek didn't let him respond.

“You have now twice let a man that may or not contain a friend that you knew for only a couple of weeks into your home. Shared your secrets. For what Caleb? I understand that your friends and you -”

Caleb cut him off abruptly, but did not slow Essek down. “Our friends.”

“Yes, our friends - have an affinity for this ‘Mollymauk’, but it is my understanding that you only knew the man for 4-5 weeks. How do you know this isn’t Lucien? Playing off your limited memories of a man who barely knew you. Whereas I -”

The door two floors below them slammed open, and Caleb found himself prepping to use his arcane fire, but all he saw was the rest of the Nien trudging in, and closing the door behind the,

“Cad, do you think you could come heal Beau? She is ok, we got Cree, but Jester is a bit tapped.” Fjord’s deep voice rung through the tower. Cad excused himself from Molly, and drifted down to Beau. the rest of them followed soon after, back to the Entryway. Caddie quickly took care of all of them, but took care not to include Cree, who was flung over Yasha’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes and unconscious.

“Molly what do you think?! Isnt great?!” Jester asked to her fellow tiefling.

“Love, I am fairly sure that I am stuck in a coma or a demiplane somewhere, but this all couldn't possibly be real.” He said with a grateful smile on his face. Caleb barely heard Essek mutter, uncharastically, ‘I am sure you would fuck with demiplanes.’ Before Caleb could confront that, Molly was calling to him.

“Caleb, this is truly fantastic, and I really would love to see it all, but I wasn't lying when I said I was tired. I don't know what that other guy did with this body, but it doesn't feel like sleep.”

“Oh Molly! You can stay with me! I am sure you don't want to be alone, and Essek has the guest room, and my room is like - really really awesome. We can totally snuggle and I can-” Fjord was growling again, it wasn't loud, but just displeased enough that Jester heard. Caleb wasn't sure what to make about this recent possessive streak, but he knew his own jealousy isn't helpful since Fjord had obviously scared Molly.

“Or maybe Yasha would be better, she really really missed you.” Jester supplied, with a bashful smile.

“That would be divine dear, if that’s ok with Yash, don't want to intrude, love.” Molly said, but he seemed to be struggling with something. It Caleb only a moment to realize that the man was overwhelmed with their change in dynamic, unsure of how he fit in, and might need some space.

“Actually, that might not be necessary.” Caleb hadn't planned on telling them all, but he also hadn't planned on being able to bring back Molly as such. He kicked himself mentally for not arranging things in the tower before he cast it, but hopefully the others left him alone about it. He wasn’t going to hold his pride up before making sure Molly knew that he belonged here with his family.. “Both Mollymauk and Essek have their own rooms if they choose to stay in them.”

Caleb noticed Essek’s normally imperceptible demeanor change, soften just a bit, he was thankful for it after their brief but tense exchange.

“Ah, Essek, I had wanted to show you your first night here, but unfortunately circumstances as they were prevented that. I would show you tonight, but I would like to take Mollymauk to his, seeing as this is all a bit new to him.” Caleb waved his hands to indicate the tower, but what he didn't say was why it could only be him that could show Molly.

“That is alright. I would be glad to wait, I didn't get to explore your library as much as I would have liked anyway.” Essek’s offer of patience was welcomed. It meant that he wasn’t too angry with Caleb. “Thank you, Essek.” Caleb knew the others didn't understand Caleb’s gratitude, but he didn't care at this moment.

“Caleb, when did you find the time to make Molly a room? And I count the same amount of doors, where is?” Of course, Beau would be the one to pick up and challenge Caleb on this first. He couldn't think of a convincing lie, so he tried to go for nonchalant.

“On the floor above Veth’s and my own.” He tried to say it casually, but not a single pair of eyes around him didn't stare.

“Caleb, when did you put a room for Molly on the eighth floor?” The question came telepathically, though Caleb could hear Beau’s pointed tone perfectly. His eyes immediately jumped to his hands, the other red eye still there. Before panic could flood him about what that meant, Beau was in his mind again.

“We can worry about it tomorrow, Molly doesn't have any eyes on him other than his tattoos, we probably just have to kill this city. Now, tell me, when?”

So he wasn’t going to be able to avoid this.

“It’s always been there.” A simple answer to a very complicated issue.

“Fuck man, why didn't you - I, I didn't know.” Caleb didn’t like hearing her pity. Part of him was grateful that she understood why he had included it in his floor of memories, however, he didn't want to talk about it just now. Everyone was still staring at him, they knew Beau was in his head, and likely knew what she was asking, but mercifully not saying anything.

“Ja, well, Yasha can put Cree in one of the rooms of requirement, no? For us to deal with tomorrow?” He supplied quickly to change the focus of the room. “And I can take Mollymauk, to at least change into different clothes for now, and he can choose where he stays.”

“That sounds like a fine plan, I can help Yasha. Then we all can get settled for some needed rest.” Fjord supplied, taking control of the situation from Caleb, which he was very grateful for.

“Lovely. Caleb, dear, take me wherever you want, to be honest, I would be happy to sleep on the floor right here, but I’d love a change of clothes just as much.” Molly didn’t look tired, as much as a man who really wanted to catch his breath. Caleb knew this feeling well, and only hoped he could maybe provide a calm space for Molly to get a little more acclimated in. Without really thinking about it, he put out his hand to the purple man, and of course, he took it in return.

“You only need to think the word ‘up’.” He reminded.

“But where is the fun in that? Up.” Molly tugged Caleb up through the floors of the towers, and he couldn't help but laugh at the other man’s enthusiasm as he fell upwards.

[apiratewhopines]

Look at the mesmerizing artwork by @teamhook. Can you spot the villain of this little story?

In the Offing

Chapter 18 — The Stable Boy

Summary: In which our heroine misplaces something

Chapter 18 on AO3

“A guilty conscience means at least you’ve got one

Who will forgive you when I’m gone?”

-Here He Comes, The Wallflowers

“That went further than I intended,” Killian whispered against her throat. She could feel his smile against the sensitive skin and knew that while his words sounded like the beginning of an apology, it was really more of an observation on their current status. Their completely unclothed, totally sated status.

“Hmm, there is something about the motion of the water,” Emma said by way of agreement. She was lazily running her fingers through his mussed hair, appreciating the way the thick, short locks felt silky in her hands. His laughter rumbled through his chest and she gave in to the temptation to run her fingers through the hair there as well.

“I’ll make a pirate out of you yet, Swan.”

“Well, I need to do something special for a man who would trade a secluded afternoon with the most famous actress in the world to spend time with his unknown, magnet-for-trouble house guest.”

She should get up. Lord only knew if there were locks on the door or if they could be interrupted. However, she wasn’t lying about the sensation of being lulled to sleep by the waves. Although sleep was the furthest thing from her mind a few minutes ago.

“House guest? Is that the label we’re going with? How about girlfriend? Lover? Angel? Magnificent creature?” He punctuated each question with a nuzzle against a different section of exposed flesh. “Besides, I am a seafaring man and all sailors know that it’s bad luck to have a redhead on board. Thank goodness I didn’t have to take her out on the open seas. You may never have seen me again.”

“That would have been a shame. I do enjoy seeing you. The more of you, the better.” She allowed her hands to wander over the expanse of skin on display, thankful that the afternoon was warm since there was only one sheet and their picnic blanket from the other day to cover up with. Her eyes had drifted closed during their idle exchange but she cracked open her left to look at him as she felt the bed shift under his movements. He had propped himself up on his elbow and was resting on his side. She was surprised to see his expression had turned serious. “What’s on your mind?”

“I think it’s time we talk. I like the odds of you staying put since you’re naked,” he added with some of his usual swagger.

“If you’re ready,” she told him. Reaching up to cradle his face in her hands, she knew that nothing he said would make any difference to her. She was too far gone already. The only possible outcome was she would fall deeper under his spell. “No matter what, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know what those words mean to me, love.” He pressed a forceful kiss to her lips and returned to his earlier position. His eyes focused out the window and glazed over as he became lost in his memories. When he spoke, his voice had deepened with emotion. “Liam and I moved here a decade ago with one purpose and one purpose only: To find Frederick’s bloody treasure trove. There was nothing for us in England, hadn’t been in years really. I was graduating and Liam was finishing up his enlistment with the Navy. To my surprise, he didn’t doubt for a moment my claims that I could find our fortune on the rocky beaches of Maine. So off we went without a backward glance at the shores of our ancestors.”

She could imagine a younger Killian, full of life and confidence, pulling along his older, more seasoned brother. After all, no one was more jaded than her and she was already prepared to follow him to the ends of the earth.

“It took us more time to find the pub in Storybrooke than it did to find the first treasure hoard. Oh, Emma, I wish you could have been there.” His grin was something that belonged on a schoolboy’s face, not a man in his mid-thirties. Unable to help herself, she reached up and traced it with her fingertips. He captured her wayward digits and pressed a heartfelt kiss to the tips. “Most pirate treasure was in the form of goods like timber, cotton, sugar, or tobacco. But good old Frederick didn’t disappoint. There was enough silver to make us wealthy even by today’s standards. There were some interesting historical bits as well that will one day find their way into a museum but I won’t bore you with those details.”

“Such a gentleman,” she murmured with a chuckle. “What did you do with it? Aren’t you supposed to alert the authorities when you find stuff like that?”

“I want to be a better man for you, Swan, but I will never be a saint. We haven’t disclosed any of our findings. We simply dip in when we need something extra. Some day we’ll let it see the light of day but for now it rests in Davy Jones’ locker.”

“Wait, I know that one. You mean it’s hidden under the sea?”

“No, we put it in my grandfather’s old locker and buried it under the cottage. It’s the only thing my father left behind when he abandoned us all those years ago.” When she rolled her eyes at him, he simply chuckled. “But to answer your question, the laws vary by state and country. Maine is actually quite lenient with their buried treasure as long as it isn’t found on state property. Luckily, two of the piles we found were on my land at the cottage. Technically, I didn’t own the land when I found the first one but it was under contract. I quickly remedied that and it was all above board when I found the second stash a few days later. That one had more coins and a few loose gemstones.”

“Gemstones?” Visions of The Goonies filled Emma’s mind and she had to stop herself from asking about One-Eyed Willy. Because, as fantastical as it seemed, the man who held her heart in his hands also had a knack for finding buried treasure. A gift she hoped he would survive considering someone out there desperately wanted to get their hands on it.

“Yes, darling,” he answered. “I think several have your name on them.”

“No way,” she argued. “I don’t want any of it. What if it’s cursed?”

“Cursed, you say?” He looked thoughtful as the sunlight was momentarily blocked by an errant storm cloud outside. “Yes, I suppose that may be true. Shortly after I uncovered the third pile, I went to the Rabbit Hole to celebrate my victory. Liam had just met Elsa so I was on my own for the most part those days. Not that it mattered, you know how this town takes to new people so I never lacked companionship for a drink or...whatever.”

“Whatever, indeed,” Emma teased in her best impression of his accent. She sensed he was coming to the part of his story that was the most difficult to relay and tried to infuse some humor into the conversation.

With a rueful grin that acknowledged her effort, both with the accent and the humor, he continued. “I met Milah that night. She was a sight to behold in the dim light of the bar, vibrant in a way that seemed too much for this little town.” He narrowed his eyes as they made contact with hers. “I didn’t know at first that she was married. Lads of twenty-four aren’t known for pumping the brakes when a beautiful woman gives them nothing but green lights and I was no different. Honestly, I was probably worse. I was a rash young man far from home and high on my own cleverness. It never occurred to me to question my good fortune or wonder why no one else was vying for her attention.”

“How far gone were you when you found out the truth?”

“Completely,” he confessed with a shaky breath. “The fight we had when I found out, well, it would have melted paint off the walls. I was a dirty little secret, the younger man who captured her attention but not her affections. It was always like that with her. She was so restless. Always moving, always searching. Nothing was ever enough. It took me a long time to realize that I wasn’t enough either. She wanted someone to rescue her from a life of boredom, someone who would carry her away and show her the world and fill her days with adventures. I couldn’t be that for her but I nearly destroyed myself trying to be.”

He was lost in the past, his eyes distant and filled with pain. Reliving the end of the most meaningful relationship of your life wasn’t easy, Emma definitely understood that. Especially when you gave all you had to it and it still collapsed in pieces around you.

“Her husband came to visit me one night toward the end. Offered me money to break it off,” he scoffed as if the idea still insulted him. “I refused of course, convinced he was the villain in our little drama and that I would win the heart of the fair maiden in the end. At it turned out, I was wrong on both counts. The villain was the fair maiden. Mr. Gold and I were both pawns in her scheme to escape a life she hated. When she had the opportunity, she took the money and ran. In my kinder moments, I feel sorry for her knowing she must have felt trapped. But then I remember the way the whole town thought I killed her and any kindness I’m able to scare up disappears. Just like she did.”

“You’ve never heard from her? You have no idea what happened to her?”

“No. When it ended, it ended badly. She wanted me to take her husband’s money so we could leave town together, was angry when I refused to be chased off into the night. It was then that I realized she didn’t care who she was with, as long as she wasn’t in Storybrooke. It was a tough blow to stomach. I only saw her one time after that, a couple of nights before she disappeared. She showed up at the cottage to apologize. Told me she would never regret our relationship but it was time to move on. She left the map as a parting gift. I knew then that she meant to leave. Make no mistake, Emma, Milah is alive and well somewhere on this globe, living her life to the fullest and not sparing a thought for anyone in this town.”

“Then her absence is no great loss,” she observed.

He shook his head slowly as if he wasn’t sure he agreed with her assessment. “The day after she stopped by for the last time was when I pulled my idiotic stunt. I got drunk and tried to sail directly into a Nor’easter. Liam caught me at the docks and insisted on coming with me when he couldn’t talk me out of leaving. Our boat capsized about a mile up the coast. I’m only glad I was able to pull him to shore.”

“You saved his life? One-handed in a gale?”

With a bitter twist of his lips, he bit out, “Not sure you’ll allowed to claim such a thing when the only reason a person was in danger in the first place is because of you. He was trapped under the broken mast. I’m still not sure how I got him out but I crushed my hand in the process. Got a pretty nasty infection and the doctors told me the hand couldn’t be saved and if I wasn’t lucky, I’d lose the arm too. Seemed like a no-brainer.”

She felt the tension gripping him and trailed her hands down his left arm, running her fingers over the smooth scars she felt there. He didn’t pull away but he didn’t relax either. “We’re all scarred in one way or another, Killian. Yours are a bit more on display than the average person but this shows that you are a survivor. I’m beginning to think it might be a bad idea for me to find Milah. She has a lot to answer for.”

“You know, I’ve tried to track her down but I’m afraid I don’t have your abilities at finding those who don’t wish to be found. I thought I had tracked her to Paris a few years ago, there was a new artist there that had her style of sketching but I could never be sure and they disappeared before I could make contact. I still have a file on my desktop with the various artwork I found in the gallery catalogues. I always thought I’d pick up the search again later.”

A little afraid to hear his answer, she nevertheless asked, “Why do you want to find her?”

“At first, I missed her. I wanted to hear her voice. Pathetic, right?” When Emma simply gave him a look that clearly disagreed, he smiled at her. “Hmm, my secretly romantic Swan. You have a tender heart that I adore but don’t worry, I won’t let anyone know.” He looked at her with such fondness that she was tempted to go for round two right then. However, on some level, she knew this conversation was more important than their physical connection.

Unaware of her thoughts, he admitted, “Lately I’ve wanted closure. Not for the relationship. It’s been dead and gone for years. For the case, in order to clear my name. I’ve done a lot of things that I’m not particularly proud of since I arrived here but I would like any doubt removed about this crime.”

“If you don’t mind sharing, perhaps we can find her together,” she offered shyly.

“Emma, everything I have is yours,” Killian told her. With a laugh he added, “Including the gold bars I found in the third treasure hoard I uncovered.” Taking her in his arms, he held her as they laid in the Captain’s Quarters in peaceful silence.

—

The rain that had threatened in the afternoon made good on its promise by the time they arrived back at the cottage with carryout from the pizza place. Fortunately, it was the kind of summer rain that moved through quickly and left the air feeling crisp and clean.

After her third slice of pepperoni, Emma leaned back in the patio chair and sighed. “I’m supposed to meet Graham tonight to search the woods. I guess I should head back to Mary Margaret’s place eventually anyway.”

With a quizzical look, Killian took a sip of his iced tea. “A date with another man and moving out? Have I done something to offend you?”

“Very funny,” she retorted. “I think we’ve gotten things a little out of order but there’s no reason to rush into this.”

“Darling, we have already fallen headfirst into the fast lane. There’s no reason to get scared now. Besides, I happen to know that David and Mary Margaret have reached the toothbrush phase of their relationship. You will be taking your sanity into your own hands if you head back there tonight. David is a loud...sleeper.”

“I don’t even want to know how you know that,” Emma said with a shiver of disgust. “Fine, I guess I’ll have to stay with you for the foreseeable future. If you don’t have any other plans, you can also join me on my date. We’re looking for bodies in the woods.”

With a grimace, Killian studied her profile. “Okay but only if I get to plan our next outing. A man likes some mystery in a relationship but dead bodies are a little overboard.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Dr. Jones.”

Forewarned about the activities for the evening consisting mainly of traversing hilly, overgrown terrain, Emma did a better job of dressing the part. Outfitted with flashlights from Killian’s emergency kit, she knew if the search lasted beyond the light of the midsummer sun they wouldn’t injure themselves in the dark at least.

Arriving at the Sheriff’s station shortly thereafter, Emma was surprised to find it empty and unlocked. Since another brief summer rain was moving through town, she texted Graham and they decided to wait it out at the station. Twenty minutes later, the rain was over but she still hadn’t heard from the sheriff. “That’s weird. He’s usually better about replying.”

“Text him a lot, do you?”

With a amused shake of her head, she admonished him. “Now is not the time to be jealous, Killian. He’s a friend and, unless I’m mistaken, he’s your friend too.”

“He’s not an enemy,” Killian conceded grudgingly. With a hint of teasing, he said, “But perhaps he is competition.” He moved around the station nonchalantly as if he might find the sheriff under a pile of papers or resting in one of the cells at the back of the open room.

With a deep breath, she walked over to him and linked her arms around his neck. “Not in my eyes. I’m not sure how to convince you that you’ve ruined me for other men.”

“I can think of some persuasive methods that will get your point across.” His roguish eyebrow was cocked in a way that she always found so endearing and sexy. “Why don’t we postpone this search party and you can give it your best shot? I promise to keep an open mind.”

“Keeping an open mind has never been your problem,” she laughed, playfully punching him in the arm. “I have a job to do so stop trying to distract me. We’ll have to go without Graham. We’re losing daylight and I’m running out of time before Henry comes home.”

What she didn’t add was the crossroads his arrival would bring. As much as she had fought against this thing with Killian, now that she was in, she was all in. While the four hour drive to Boston was not an insurmountable distance, she found the idea of being separated distasteful. She knew it was a conversation they needed to have and she wasn’t avoiding it exactly. Her rational mind kept reminding her that they had only met a month ago and people didn’t fall in love and move to different states after a few weeks of knowing someone. Especially single mothers who had children to think about.

Having officially given up on the sheriff, they headed toward the town line. Minutes later, they arrived to find the cruiser already parked on the narrow shoulder, driver side door open and cabin lights on. Jumping out of the truck, Emma exchanged a worried look with Killian and observed, “This looks like trouble.”

He followed her to the cruiser and placed his hand on the front seat. “It’s dry so he probably didn’t get here until after the rain moved through.”

“Graham!” Shouting his name repeatedly probably wasn’t an effective strategy but damn if she could think of anything else to do. Settling in the driver’s seat she found the keys still in the ignition and his walkie on the dashboard. Picking it up, she paged David. Within a minute, he answered, confusion evident in his tone.

“Emma? Why do you have Graham’s walkie?”

“We found his cruiser at the town line. No sign of him. We’re going out to the woods to search but you probably want to get here as quickly as possible. I’ve got a bad feeling about this whole scene.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Wait for me.”

True to his word, David’s battered old Ford pick-up pulled behind their truck in record time. Mary Margaret had made the journey with him and as soon as the car was in park, she rushed to Emma’s side. “Still no sign of him?”

“No,” Killian answered with his eyes scanning the thick woods.

“He headed this direction and he was in a hurry,” the brunette observed, her finger pointing toward an invisible trail as if it were obvious. At Emma’s silent question, she explained, “All-State Orienteering champion and the best tracker in town besides Ruby. Knowing your way around the forest is still a skill set that’s valued in Maine.”

“Sure. I mean, why not?” Emma said sarcastically. “Why don’t you lead the way then? We’ve already wasted time waiting around the station.”

Grabbing the flashlight that David handed her, Mary Margaret stepped off the shoulder and moved noiselessly into the woods. She would occasionally murmur an observation regarding a broken twig or boot print in the soft ground. Emma made a point to try to locate whatever signs the other woman noted on their pursuit but was only able to see the tracks occasionally. In no time at all, they had circled back up the hill to come out at the road not even a quarter of a mile from the cruiser. “Great. Back were we started.”

“No,” Mary Margaret disagreed. “Look here.” She squatted down and shined a beam of light on the asphalt.

Sure enough, Emma saw some kind of liquid that had dripped on the road. “What is that? Motor oil?” Reaching down, she lightly pressed her finger in one of the droplets and smeared it against her thumb. Looking at the bright red color, a chill ran through her. “Blood.”

“And tire tracks from an SUV if I had to guess,” David added, his light illuminating the wide tracks partially visible on the wet dirt of the shoulder. “Someone took him.” He immediately started back toward his truck, getting on his radio and calling the other deputy to round up some volunteers and meet them out at the woods.

—

Entering the cottage at four the following morning, Emma dropped on the couch in exhaustion. They hadn’t found any other clues as to the whereabouts of the sheriff or who grabbed him off the deserted road. Had he been followed out to the town line? Is that why he hadn’t responded to her text? Why would he have not reached out to her or David if he thought he was in trouble?

Settling next to her, Killian pushed her hair back behind her ear. “We won’t find him by staying up and worrying. You need to rest.”

“I can’t shake the feeling that this has to do with me.”

“With you? Why do you think so? Didn’t you say he found something in the woods? Something related to a disappearance that happened when you were a baby.”

“I know it’s crazy...”

“I didn’t say that, love. If you think this has something to do with you, I wouldn’t bet against your instincts.” Smiling at her with an expression of full support, he added, “You’ll figure it out. But it doesn’t have to be tonight.”

“He could be out there hurt, Killian, or worse. I think we need to regroup. Go through everything again. I must have missed something. And we’re going to need all hands on deck. The situation is escalating. When are Liam and Elsa supposed to come back?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

“Perhaps you should convince him to come back sooner.”

“That will be a pleasant conversation,” Killian muttered with a roll of his eyes. “Perhaps I’ll call Elsa instead. She’s the more reasonable one.”

“Coward,” she whispered against his lips as she kissed him softly. She would never get tired of this, having him within arm’s reach. His very presence made all her worries melt into the background.

“You have more than enough bravery for the both of us,” he complimented her. “But I’ll do as you ask. After all, he’s the one who brought you into this mess. Not that I’m complaining.”

“See that you don’t. I have ways of dealing with complainers,” she ordered tartly, forcing herself to get lost in this moment with him. As she got up to walk away, his fingers hooked into the pocket of her jeans and tugged her back into his lap.

“Saucy. I like that.”

“Behave, Dr. Jones.”

There weren’t any coherent words spoken as the early morning light started to break over the horizon. He had decided to disobey, misbehaving in the most delightful ways.

[skullrock]

the lesson, part two - Steve x Reader

pairing: Steve x Reader

summary: continuation of the lesson - you teach Steve about kinks - and he’s really, really good at them.

word count: 4.5k (I AM SORRY)

warnings: smut, sub/dom, light bondage, praise kink, hair pulling, spanking, swearing, etc. (it’s fluffy too!!!)

a/n: sorry this took so long but here u go, 4,000 words of crazy sex babey!!!

===

A week later, you head over to Steve’s house with a set of notecards. It was still weird to be giving Steve lessons about how to have good sex, but you enjoyed the anticipation of the next session. Steve did, too, not that he would admit it. This was strictly professional, after all.

Once he lets you in, you both head upstairs to his room. You had agreed this one would take place at his house to prevent your sheets from getting ruined if he had another … incident. Steve insisted you were being too harsh, but you insisted on keeping your sheets clean. You head into his room and he comes in behind you, shutting the door.

You were taken aback. Steve had the ugliest room you’d ever seen from a boy. Plaid curtains, the worst artwork of all time, a bowling pin on his desk. You whip around and look at him with wide eyes. “The hell is all this?”

“What?” he asks, offended.

“Did you bring girls up here?”

He shrugs, confused. You sigh deeply. “We need to redecorate this whole space.”

“If your moves get me a girlfriend, I’ll get new curtains.”

You roll your eyes and ignore the twitch of your heart before continuing. “These are 26 notecards. They are the ABCs of fetishes.”

Steve chokes on his inhale. “The what?!”

“You have to find out what you like, don’t you? And you should probably know what they like.” You shove them in his hands, and he takes them, brows furrowed. “What… do you want me to do?”

“Go through them and tell me which ones you like.”

Steve hesitates. “And – and then what? Are we gonna…?”

You give a tight-lipped smile and nod, and he sits on the bed, reading through the cards carefully. You sit at the chair by his desk, watching his expressions as he goes through them. Some he nods and blushes at, and some he scrunches his nose at. You play with your fingers as he looks over them again and then he meets your eyes, ears pink. “Think I’m done.”

“Okay,” you say, moving to sit beside him.

He hands you a stack sheepishly. “These are the ones I … think I like.”

You nod and check them out while he blushes deeply beside you.

“Submission and domination,” you say, and he bites his lip. You look over at him and smile. “Both, or?”

“Both,” he says quickly, playing with his own fingers. “Both are good.”

You nod and continue. “Bondage… tied up or tying someone else up?”

“Both,” he repeats.

“Sound like a switch to me,” you say, and he blushes deeper. You knock into him with your shoulder and he smiles before you keep reading.

“Praise,” you read. “That’s cute. You’re cute.”

“Okay – you don’t have to do it now,” he says, but smiles, nonetheless.

“And hair pulling.” You glance over at him and ruffle his hair. He slaps your hand away and glares at you.

“That’s the opposite of a praise kink,” he mumbles. “I don’t want to be bullied.”

“Yeah you do,” you say. You hop up and walk towards his closet, intending on finding something to tie his hands with. The thought sends fire through your veins and straight to your core.

Steve stands and shifts on his feet nervously. “What do you want to do first?”

You rummage around his closet and find a tie – jackpot. You turn and look at him, noticing how he blushes upon seeing the accessory. “I want you to be a sub first.”

“Okay, but why?”

You falter. “So – um – so I can teach you the moves.” It’s definitely not because you want to take care of him. Certainly not that.

Steve nods and swallows hard. “Do I – on the bed?”

“Yes, Steve,” you say. “On the bed.”

Steve lays down and you walk towards him, crawling over him and straddling his lap. You’re both blushing furiously, and you grip the tie tightly in your hands. “We should probably have a safe word.”

Steve’s eyes widen. “Jesus, what are you planning on doing?”

“Just in case!”

“Christ,” he mumbles, resting his hands on your hips. His fingers massage them gently and you smile at his touch. “How about… I don’t know, red?”

“That works.” You run your hands over his chest and he stiffens, fingers digging into your skin. You smile sweetly at him. “What do you want me to call you?”

Steve blushes deeply again. “I – uh –-“

“Do you like ‘baby boy’ or ‘Stevie’?”

You can feel him harden under you and he nods curtly. “Both.”

Smirking, you grind yourself down on him and he lets out a hiss. His fingers continue to dig into your hips and you slowly rock back and forth. You love watching his face redden, his eyes darken. You bite your lip before asking, “Do you like that, Stevie?”

He nods again. “Yes – what should I call you?”

You pause. “Um – whatever feels natural? My name?”

Steve grinds up into you, looking smug, and you glare. You use your feet to pin his legs down. “I wouldn’t do that, baby boy.”

“And why not?”

Steve has never been teased like this in his entire life – he has no clue what he’s getting himself into. You pull him up by his shirt and lean in, stopping right before his lips. “Shirt off.”

He does as he’s told quickly, and you push him back down. He furrows his brows – what’s with the force? – and you grab his wrists, pinning them together above his head. Your feet still pin his legs down so that he can’t grind into you, and you quickly tie the tie around him, securing him to the top of the headboard. Steve looks like a mixture of aroused, afraid, and intrigued. You pause and ask, “Are you okay?”

“More than okay,” he breathes. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t if you’re good for me.”

You start to kiss his forehead and work your way down his face. You kiss across the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, his cheeks. You ghost over his lips and he frowns. “Why won’t you kiss me?”

“This isn’t about you, is it?” you murmur, and he groans. You’re secretly ecstatic that he wants to kiss you, but you keep moving down. Your lips reach his neck and you kiss and suck, running your tongue over his skin. Steve chokes on a gasp and his hands tug at his restraints. You smirk into his skin and move over to the other side.

Steve’s blissed out, only able to focus on your lips on his skin. Each time you suck, a moan escapes him, and he wants desperately to buck his hips up for some type of friction. He can feel his precum spreading over his briefs, and he just wants release. At the same time, he loves that he’s not in control. He likes to feel vulnerable like this – and he trusts you. He whines as you suck hickeys into his neck, and as embarrassed as he’ll be to have them, he loves it.

“Being so good, baby boy,” you whisper, and he whimpers.

“Are you going to touch me?” he asks timidly, pulling once again on the tie.

“Should I?” you ask, straightening. You lift your hips off of him and he groans, bucking his hips at nothing.

“Please.”

His pleas make your arousal spike and you finally kiss him. He kisses back roughly, his head lifting off the pillows behind him to kiss you firmly. As intoxicating as it is, you only let him kiss you for a few moments before you pull away. Steve groans and his head falls back on the pillows. “Why?”

“I have something else I want you to do with your mouth,” you murmur, and Steve licks his lips. You cup his face, in awe of how beautiful and needy he looks. He’s really handsome – you have a handsome friend. “I want you to make me cum first.”

“I’ll do anything,” he says.

You blush deeply. “Want to taste me?”

Steve nods furiously, almost pouting. “Please, Princess.”

You huff at the nickname, placing a hand on his chest to steady yourself. Steve’s really hot like this – like, maybe even hotter than he would be if he was domming. You break character for a moment. “Are you cool if I sit on your – uh – on your face?”

Steve nods again, licking his lips. “I really want that.”

“Okay, well – like, if you can’t breathe, or something, remember the safe word, okay?”

Steve can’t help but to roll his eyes. “You gonna do it or what?”

You pinch one of his nipples and he gasps then laughs, you falling into a fit of giggles after him. Both of you stare into each other’s eyes for a few long moments before you clear your throat. “Don’t get mouthy, baby boy, or you’re not going to cum.”

Steve bites his lip and nods. “Yes, Princess.”

You take your clothes off quickly, Steve’s breath hitching at seeing you naked. You straddle his face and pinned arms, hands resting on the top of the headboard. Before you even sink down, Steve lifts his neck again, immediately getting to work by licking a stripe up your folds. You gasp and sink down, Steve’s tongue working just as expertly as it did the first time. He can remember exactly what to do. His tongue circles your clit before sucking, making you cry out. Steve thought he was hard last time – that has nothing on how he feels now. His hips involuntarily buck as he licks, tongue circling your clit again.

You remember that he liked hair pulling, so you reach down and tangle your hands in his hair. You pull as he works and he groans loudly, letting out a harsh, “Fuck.”

“Doing so good, Stevie,” you moan. “Feel so good.”

The praise spurs Steve on, and he goes even harder. His tongue laps at you roughly and you feel close already. Your hands fly up to your breasts and you roll your nipples as you start to grind on him. Steve groans again, clenching his hands into fists – he wants to touch you. You notice and laugh lightly. “Wanna touch me, baby?”

“Yes, Y/N,” he moans. He inclines his head to go deeper and you throw your head back at the feeling. You can feel your legs starting to shake and the coil in your stomach tightening.

“Keep going, Steve,” you gasp. “Doing so good – so good, Steve – perfect – want me to cum on your face?”

Steve whines and nods, his tongue circling and then sucking your clit harshly. Your eyes squeeze shut and a few seconds later you gasp and cry out his name. Steve continues to lick, his dick twitching at the sound of you orgasming above him and the feeling of you once again pulling his hair. Your legs shake violently as you ride it out, hands planted firmly in his hair to steady yourself.

Once you calm down, you hop off of him. He looks at you with blown pupils and you can’t help but to kiss him fiercely, tasting yourself on him. Steve’s hands clench again as you kiss, unable to contain his moans. He’s really, really turned on, and he just wants relief. You pull away and caress his cheek. “You were amazing, Steve. So, so good. Did you like that?”

Steve nods. “So much.”

“You were such a good boy for me,” you praise. You press a light kiss to his forehead. “Know what happens to good boys?”

Steve smiles like a dork. “They get rewards?”

You hum in response. “Want me to suck you off, Stevie?”

“God, yes,” he groans, his hips bucking again. “Please, Princess.”

You kiss him once more and start to move down his body, but he clears his throat. “Aren’t you going to untie me?”

“Why should I?”

Steve groans. “I want to feel you.”

“Patience,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his stomach. He throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, frustrated and desperate for contact. You slowly unbutton his pants and slide them off, but you don’t take off his boxers yet. You kiss around his hip bones and down his thighs.

Steve’s almost positive he’s going to bite his lip off.

His briefs are stained again with precum, and your mouth waters. You kiss his clothed cock and he groans, arching up off the bed. You press his hips down and continue to kiss as Steve lets out a string of curses and whines. You’re nearly in shock from how hot he is, and you decide to tell him. “Stevie, you’re so fucking hot, you know that?”

He whimpers above you.

“So perfect,” you continue. “Every part of you is so handsome. So, so pretty, Steve.”

Steve’s dick twitches and he bucks his hips again. Smiling, you pull his briefs down, finally exposing him. Your mouth waters even more at the sight, and you can hardly wait to take him in. You kiss up his length and he cries out, tugging on his restraints. “Please, Y/N.”

“Since you were good,” you say, and finally take him in. Steve’s hips buck up and you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him back down onto the bed. Whimpers leave Steve’s lips as you suck him, bobbing at a slow pace. You hollow your cheeks and Steve cries out, hips arching off the bed again. He’s near tears over how good it feels, and he wants nothing more than to fuck your mouth. Hearing him moan your name makes you to go faster, hand pumping what your mouth can’t take in.

Steve’s holding off on his orgasm surprisingly well, considering last time. You can tell that he’s close by how loud he’s getting, though, so you pull off.

Steve gasps and sits up as much as he can. “Are you joking?!” he asks, enraged. “I was right there, dude!”

“You’ll get your turn for payback.” You sit up on your knees. “Do you want me to fuck you, or you fuck me?”

Steve’s head falls back dramatically. He lifts it again to look at you. “If you untie me, you’re in for a ride.”

“I’m not scared of you, Steven.”

“You should be.” Steve quirks a brow and it sends shockwaves through you.

“Since when are you not hopeless at sex, bud?”

“Since you fucking teased me for like, an hour.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, about to talk back, but Steve tugs on his restraints again. “Hello? You gonna let me loose or what?”

You roll your eyes, but excitement fills you. You gingerly reach up to untie him. It feels like a game, almost – like cat and mouse. You bite your lip and finally untie him.

Steve stretches first, rubbing his wrists and cracking his back. You watch him with wide eyes, but he still catches you off guard when he flips you onto your back. Your hands are tied up in an instant and Steve sits straddling you, looking pleased with himself.

“Safe word is still red, right?”

You nod. Now you know why he wasn’t talking – it’s slightly overwhelming and really, really hot.

“What do you want me to call you?” he asks, running his hands along your bare skin. Goosebumps form on the flesh and you respond, “Whatever you want.”

Steve rolls his eyes, a smile forming. “Okay, that’s not really helpful.”

“I don’t know! Whatever feels right for you? I can tell you if you say something I don’t like.” You shake your head quickly. “Look, don’t call a girl like, a slut or something unless she asks you to, okay?”

Steve nods, making a mental note. “Got it.”

“What should I call you?” you ask.

“Sir,” he replies, almost too quickly.

You furrow your brows and smirk. “Not ‘daddy’?”

Steve groans. “That was one time!”

“It made an impact.”

Steve’s hand gently grabs your chin, pulling it up to make eye contact. Your heart speeds up as he looks down at you, eyes dark. “Are you going to be good for Sir?”

It’s almost comical, seeing the boy who just a week ago called the clit the “click” call himself “Sir”. But it’s more sexy than funny, and you swallow hard. “Maybe.”

Steve suppresses a grin. “I told you that you were in for a ride, didn’t I?”

You open your mouth to respond but Steve cuts you off by kissing you roughly. As discovered previously, Steve is an incredible kisser. It makes your mind fog and your knees weak. His kisses aren’t gentle now – they are rough and passionate, his hand ghosting over your neck and he slides his tongue over your bottom lip. You open your mouth for him and his tongue enters, making you moan.

Steve pulls back and looks down at you. “If you’re not quiet, everyone’s going to know what I’m doing to you.”

You know Steve’s great at dirty talk, but it still catches you off guard. “Steve, Jesus,” you groan. “Where the fuck did you learn to talk like that?”

“I’m not totally helpless,” he scoffs, then goes for your neck. He mimics your movements from earlier, sucking and licking. His lips are soft on your skin and his fingers trace your breasts gently. The roughness of his kisses and the gentleness of his fingers sends your head swirling. “You like this, huh?” he asks, and you moan.

“Please, Sir,” you whimper.

Steve knows you’re his friend – he knows that. But, holy shit, hearing you call him Sir nearly makes him bust with no contact. He suppresses a groan and pulls away from you, eyes narrowed. “You think you can tease me and you won’t get teased back?”

You nod your head timidly.

“No,” he murmurs, his fingers lightly running down your torso. “Not how this works, sweetheart.”

His hands lightly graze your nipples, but it’s not enough contact to be anything good. You huff, frustrated, and Steve smirks as his hands continue to trail down. He pauses right at your entrance and looks up at you, brows furrowed. “Have you ever been spanked?”

Your eyes widen. “Jesus, you’re feeling ruthless, huh?”

“Have you?”

You bite your lip, blushing. “Yes.”

“So dirty,” he moans. Probably not something you should tell your pal, but that’s not currently on his mind. “Can I try?”

“Well, yeah,” you say with a slight laugh. “It’s not like it’s hard –“

Steve flips you over, the tie tangling as he does so. You gasp and Steve groans. “You have a really nice ass.”

You blush. “Thanks.”

Steve runs his hands over your backside. Your pussy drips at the feeling of his strong hands on you, excitement creeping in. Steve rears a hand back approximately five inches and then spanks you.

“Are you kidding?” you ask. “What was that?”

He huffs. “I don’t want to hurt you!”

“That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”

Steve blinks, then shrugs to himself. “Well, tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

You nod into the mattress, propping yourself up on your elbows, and Steve rears back again. This time, it’s perfect, and you cry out before moaning. He rubs the spot and asks, “You okay?”

“Steve, thanks, but can you please just get into character, dude?”

Steve spanks you again and you moan. Steve feels blood rushing straight to his dick, his eyes trained on your ass. He looks up at the back of your head and decides to grab your hair, twisting it in his fingers, and you gasp.

“You like being bad, don’t you?” he whispers, leaning up pressing a kiss to the back of your ear. With his other hand, he spanks again, and you cry out. “You like it when I punish you, huh?”

You can’t even formulate a response, too aroused to think straight. Steve’s fingers find your folds and he slips one in, making you moan. He hisses at how wet you are, at how you wiggle your hips in an attempt to get him to go deeper. Steve has to remind himself to be patient and not fuck you on the spot.

“Steve,” you breathe. “Amazing on the dirty talk, buddy.”

Smiling, Steve spanks you again. “That’s not what you’re supposed to call me, is it?”

You moan involuntarily. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he mumbles, and he flips you over onto your back again. He grabs your legs and wraps them around his hips, savoring your moan as you feel his dick press against your thigh. Instead of fucking you, though, his fingers circle your clit lightly. Your mouth opens in a ‘o’ and his follows.

Steve is turning out to be the best fuck you’ve ever had, and it’s equally glorious and frustrating.

He continues rubbing circles onto your clit for a few moments before sinking his middle finger into you, knuckle deep. Your eyes roll back and Steve groans. “So tight on my finger, sweetheart, can’t wait to feel you on my cock.”

“What are you waiting for, Sir?” you breathe.

Steve fucks his finger in and out of you harshly, his free hand rubbing your clit. He adds a second finger and you can feel yourself about to cum again, hips lifting off the bed to meet his knuckles. Steve’s mouth falls again; you look like an angel on your back, taking his fingers so well, and he whispers, “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

Your blush deepens and the butterflies only add to the feeling of your orgasm, but right as you’re on the brink, Steve removes his fingers. You cry out in protest, but you know you deserve it.

“Do you want to cum?” he asks.

“Yes, Sir, please –“

“Beg.”

You didn’t teach him that.

“Steve, please fuck me.”

“You can do better than that,” he says, starting to rub your clit again.

You throw your head back, unable to form any words. Steve’s hand comes up and grabs your jaw once more. “You’re not coming unless you beg.”

You cannot comprehend how he can use his words so well, but you relent. “I want to cum on your cock – please, please fuck me.”

His circling picks up, making your hips buck. “More.”

“I want it so bad, Steve,” you gasp. “I just want you – I want to feel you in me – I wanna make you feel good –“

Steve reaches for a condom conveniently on the nightstand. He slips it on, grabs himself, and lines up with you. “Are you sure?”

“Please, I want to make you cum,” you moan, trying to grind on him.

Steve groans and begins to enter you, slowly. You both whine at the contact and once he’s bottomed out, he reaches up to untie you. Your hands immediately fly to his forearms, holding onto them for dear life. You still can’t believe how good he feels. This is the same guy that trips over the carpet at Family Video on a daily basis. The same guy who told you not that long ago that he’s never made a girl really cum. Most of all, you can’t believe your friend is about to fuck you senseless.

But you’re fine with it.

So is Steve.

He starts thrusting slowly at first, allowing you both to get used to the feeling, before fucking you deep and hard. He reminds himself how good it felt to make you cum first, and that’s his mission. His fingers resume their work on your clit, and he moans, looking at you softly, despite still topping you. “Taking it so good sweetheart, so tight, so good for me –“

He flips you over again, pulling your hips up and entering you from behind. You choke on a gasp and cry out as he fucks you relentlessly, occasionally slapping your ass. Steve watches as his cock moves in and out of you, and a low groan bubbles in his chest. “Taking me so well,” he praises. “You look so pretty like this.”

“Steve – Sir – Jesus,” you gasp, and Steve chooses to not make a joke out of fear of ruining the moment.

His arm circles around you to rub at your clit again, and you cry out loudly. “Can I come, Sir?”

Steve gasps, not expecting something like that. He quickly flips you over again, wanting to watch you as you reach your high. “Cum on my cock, sweetheart – be good for me.”

He leans down to kiss you passionately and it sends you over the edge. Steve continues to thrust as you orgasm, chanting his name into his lips. His fingers rub and your hands tangle in his hair, making him moan roughly. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. “I got you, Y/N, let go.”

He slows his movements, finally coming to a stop once you’ve finished. Your legs shake around his hips and he smiles down at you smugly. You quickly flip him over, though, straddling him. He looks up at you, confused, but you sink down onto him. His hands fly to your hips and he lets you fuck him, slowly riding his length up and down.

“Your cock is so good, Steve,” you moan. “So fucking hot, so pretty.”

“More,” he pleads.

“You fill me up so nice,” you assure, bouncing on him. “Such a good boy for me, Stevie.”

Steve’s eyes flutter shut and his fingers dig into your skin yet again as you continue, speeding up your movements. You feel his dick twitch and his mouth falls open. “Can I cum, Princess?”

“Cum for me, Steve.”

His orgasm is blinding. He’s literally never cum harder, his release hitting him like a freight train. Stars litter the back of his eyelids and he holds your hips as he climaxes, crying out loudly as he does so. You’re not sure if he’s ever been so pretty, his eyes closed and mouth agape. He squeezes your thigh, signaling you to stop. You do so and lean down to kiss the moles that line his neck.

Slowly, you pull off of him, feeling oddly empty as you leave him. You help him remove his condom and trash it before laying down next to him, holding him tightly. His arm wraps around you and you rest your head on his chest. Steve’s heart feels oddly full, like something has fallen into place, but he chalks it up to the orgasm.

“Aftercare is really important,” you explain. “If you ever do something like this, make sure you hold them and take care of them.”

“Are you alright?” he asks, placing kisses to the top of your head.

You nod and look up at him. “Are you?”

He smiles. “I’m better than I have been in a long time.”

You smile back, understanding exactly what he means, but not knowing what the feeling is. You reach up and cup his face, pulling him down to give him a kiss. You both pull back, looking at the other for a long moment before kissing again. You both chalk it up to post-sex bliss – it’s nothing else, right?

“You did so good,” you whisper. “I’m really proud of you.”

“So did you,” he says. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” You squeeze his arm and continue to rest your head on his, feeling exhausted and happy.

“Hey,” he whispers. “You can… stay.”

You pause and then nod, burying your head in his chest. “I think I will.”

===

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[murielisbestmountain]

Hi! My sides are actually torn from all the laughing I did while reading your stuff btw. Could you ask our lord and savior Muriel to accidentally stumble in on the mc when they are (le gasp) indecent/naked??? It can be funny or steamy. I don't care as long as our sweet mountain man is rendered deeply uncomfortable 😀

Yes that is, indeed, my name.

Muriel x reader - gender neutral reader, minor steam but not enough to cook broccoli, general humor, Muriel is amazing and I’d sell my soul to that man. 

The palace with Nadia completely in charge is way more beautiful than anything else. Colors from Prakra combined with the new artwork on the walls have produced a beautiful new Vesuvia. And to celebrate, the masquerade has been continuously put on. A party to celebrate freedom from the Red Plague and the Devil. 

Even now, as the sun sets over the horizon and the staff begin settling down for the night, there’s a buzzing excitement hovering over Vesuvia. The city stands in muted joy, waiting for the incoming party. 

In one of the many luxurious rooms, a lovely form shuffles about. Eyes half-lidded in sleepy joy as they put away their various clothing items. Nadia, in her loving fashion, had asked her beloved friends to come back and stay in the palace for the week of the masquerade. The five companions had been spending the days prepping for the party. Ordering food, decorating, and generally being companions filled the days from morning to night. 

(y/n) meanders about, trying to find their pajamas to slip into. A few myrrh-scented furs and items are scattered about the room, intermixing with the magician’s own things.

“Muri, dammit,” (y/n) huffs, cleaning up the random items. Nadia had given each of the guests their own room, but in his usual fashion Muriel had sort of just snuck his way into (y/n)’s room. Now the poor magician paces, trying to find their soft pajama shirt in the mild clutter. Cool air flutters over their bare skin as they search fruitlessly for clothes that were probably stolen by Inanna. 

“Alright alright,” Muriel’s voice rumbles from outside the door, “Goodnight, you two.” The mountain man slips in through the door, waving softly to Asra and Julian as they walk off to their own rooms. 

“Muriel, have you seen my pajamas?” (y/n) asks, comfortable with just meandering around the way they are. Muriel plops onto the bed, facing away from the apprentice as he slips his boots off and stretches. 

“I haven’t seen them, I’m sorry,” the mountain hums, popping his knuckles and stretching his legs out a tad. 

“Well fuck,” (y/n) sighs, putting away the final bits of clothes and magic supplies. 

“Just wear tomorrow’s clothes,” Muriel offers, humming a bit as he looks up at the ceiling, “Its not that bad.” The man’s shoulders relax, his whole aura calming from being around his comparatively small lover. 

“But...pajamas.” they pout, crossing their arms and huffing. Muriel hums softly, his fingers tracing the soft blankets on the bed. 

“I’ll help you lo-....” Muriel turns, freezing as he sees (y/n)’s bare form, “L-Look....” The magician smiles, clapping their hands together once in joy. 

“Yay!” (y/n) trots over and presses a loving smooch to Muriel’s cheek, “My hero~” The mountain man’s face turns darker red, his whole body shaking at being so close to someone who’s so beautiful. 

“H...heahhhh...” He stammers uselessly, eyes burning from his refusal to blink, “mheh....” (y/n) giggles, pressing a soft kiss to Muriel’s forehead.

“Oh Muriel never change, my dear,” the magician coos, cupping the stubbly cheeks of the massive man. 

“wh...who?” Muriel blushes all the way down to his chest, skin burning under (y/n)’s touch. 

“Muriel?” the latter giggles, “That’s you.” 

“me?”

“Yes,  you’re Muriel. My handsome boyfriend.” At this, the poor mountain man’s brain finally un-melts itself, his eyes blinking rapidly to make up for the crazed wide-eyed stare he’d been sporting. 

“Oh yeah, um,” Muriel clears his throat, eyes watering from not blinking, “That’s me. that’s my name.” (y/n) giggles, lowering themselves down to straddle their boyfriend’s lap, dim light barely illuminating their skin. Muriel’s calloused hands come up to grip onto their hips, fingers pressing into the soft skin as if the magician will attempt to run away. 

“yes, yes it is,” (y/n) giggles, cupping the mountain man’s face and peppering his scarred skin in kisses. Each kiss melts the muscular frame of the tenderhearted man even further. His face burning with flustered joy and his eyes fluttering shut in bliss. A deep rumble comes from Muriel’s barrel chest, his lips pulled into an unbreaking smile. (y/n) shuffles forward, trying to press their naked belly to Muriel’s body. However, as they squirm closer, the man lets out a very loud dying whale sound, startling the magician.

“WHATTHEFUCK,” Muriel squawks, face flushing as his lover accidentally presses their not-clothed-at-all crotch to his ever-hardening member. It’s not like the duo hadn’t been intimate together in any capacity; however, the pair hadn’t done anything outside of Muriel’s home and general vanilla ways. 

“Are you okay?” (y/n) giggles, hands on Muriel’s shoulders as the large male grips their hips like a lifeline. 

“M-Mhm,” Muriel swallows loudly, eyes devouring the image of his beloved, “I’ve never been better.” The magician smiles, flicking their hand and putting out the lantern in the room. 

“I think I’ll just chill like this tonight,” (y/n) hums, “It’s not like I’m here with a stranger. I trust you, Muri.” the former barbarian blushes, watching as his lover climbs into bed and curls up. (e/c) orbs slide shut as, presumably, Muriel slips off his own clothes and-

“Move over.” The man growls softly, standing very much not clothed in front of his beloved. The aforementioned (y/n) shuffles out of the way excitedly, feelings of adoration and excitement racing through their body as the beautifully sculpted warrior slides into bed. 

“Oh shit now how am I gonna sleep?” (y/n) teases, winking and laying down on the silken bedsheets. Muriel looks over, gorgeous green eyes illuminated by the moonlight. A smile stretches over the man’s lips, casting a wink at the flustered magician. 

“Who said anything about sleep?” 

[concussed-to-pieces]

To Tell You The Truth Part Seven

Fandom: Prospect [2018]

Pairing: Eventual Ezra/Prospector!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: *checks watch* Well well well, look at the time! Friday already?! I hope you're all doing well, and I hope you all like this installment. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @renegademustelid @wrestlingfae @zombiexbody @sporadic-fics @rzrcrst @lackofhonor @the-feckless-wonder @arrowswithwifi @fioccodineveautunnale @absurdthirst @cryptkeepersoul @fleetwoodmactshirt @88dragon06 @roxypeanut @walkerchick007 @peggers-n-beggers @robbinholland

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment deals briefly with perceived self-worth, and contains certain dialogue/terminology/viewpoints that may be detrimental to individuals who have suffered emotional, sexual, or physical abuse. Stay safe!]

Acquiring a first edition of anything in this day and age had never been a simple task, so it was awe-inspiring to have a book that was not only a first edition, but one that your artwork graced the pages of.

You stared at the cover for longer than you meant to, your fingers rubbing over the embossed name that sat small and unassuming beneath Ezra's lavishly showy pseudonym. With illustrations by…

You almost felt like your ordinary moniker was out of place, but after looking at it for a moment, you decided it was exactly where it belonged.

"I am about to be overcome with emotion." Ezra informed Thomas in a hushed tone. 

The publisher heaved a heavy sigh at the other man's antics before getting to his feet, his hand outstretched. A small smile played over his mouth, probably one of relief to finally be free of your companion. "You've done it. Congratulations. It debuts on the digital platforms tomorrow, and physical copies ship next week." 

Ezra shook his hand rapidly, then turned to you. "I...I am rendered speechless." He whispered.

"I don't know if anything could claim that lofty honor." You couldn't resist teasing him and he grinned broadly. 

He rested his forehead against your own momentarily, ever cautious not to crowd you. "I am truly a better man for having known you, gentle soul." He murmured fervently. He took your hands, the book clasped tightly between the two of you. "These hands that have helped me in the mornings, that have drawn the man I could have been, that have delivered me from my deadly trials...now, see the fruits of your labor."

"Pretty sure you mean your labor." You corrected him. "I had the easy job."

Ezra shook his head. "Our labor." He was looking at you so warmly, his brown eyes crinkled at the edges from how hard he was smiling-

Kevva help you, did you want to...kiss him?

You had no time to ruminate on the sudden thought. Mr. Anglio cleared his throat and the spell was broken, Ezra exclaiming in juvenile delight that this was cause for celebration.  

You nodded absently, feeling off-kilter. It was as though a switch of comprehension had been flipped in your mind. You did want to kiss him.

…

You wanted a lot of things, you were quickly realizing. 

You wanted to sketch every sleepy smile Ezra graced you with over his mug in the morning. You wanted to be the only one to make his tea just right. You wanted to sit with him for hours in the kitchen or living room, letting him bounce ideas off of you.

The two helmets perched on the mantelpiece taunted you every time you glanced at them because you wanted to be part of a pair, more than a simple partner or roommate.

And it was terrifying. 

You started searching for your own apartment even though the idea of living alone filled you with trepidation. He had said you were welcome for as long as you wanted, but now...the situation had changed. You couldn't handle living in such close proximity to him if your brain was hellbent on doing things like this. 

It wasn't fair to him for you to want something like...that. For you to want anything at all from him.

You were ashamed of the way you had to tear your eyes off of him. You felt like an intruder, a thief, a scavenging floater hoping for opportune jetsam. You hid away in your room whenever he was around, claiming that inspiration had struck and fumbling to dissuade his childlike enthusiasm when he asked to see your 'new works'. Little did he know that you erased most of what you drew.

You were infatuated with an idea, in love with the picturesque plastic pornography that your mind had conjured, you told yourself sternly. Life wasn't perfect, and no one, let alone someone who had endured as much as Ezra, would be interested in the pitiful gift of your affection. In your own eyes you were dirty, your body forever stained with the invisible mark of abusive handling.

You didn't even know if you wanted to be intimate with someone again! Worse yet, you were uncertain if you would be able to, or if Damon's treatment had so utterly broken you that you would be reduced to nothingness if you ever deigned to attempt.

You should have been happy. The book (Aurelac And I: An Audacious Tale Of Greed In The Green) was performing remarkably well. Ezra had woven a lucrative story with just enough realism, fact and fiction carefully melded into a seamless narrative that appealed to everyone from grizzled floaters to cushy Central socialites. You should have been happy. You were set financially for the rest of your life even without the book. 

You should have been happy.

Yet all it took was him giving you a tousled, sleepy smile over his morning cup of coffee or tea and discontent fairly devoured you, turning your insides to knots. Your longing was sharp to the point of agony, an ever-present ache in your chest that you weren't certain any amount of distance would quell.

But you could try. 

So you prepared to leave, wavering between resolute and terrified while you tried to articulate yourself.

You had survived the Green. You knew you would survive this. 

…

Despite his predisposition towards prattling, Ezra was remarkably perceptive. You sometimes wondered if he used his rambling nature as a screen to observe reactions, instead of to actually carry on a legitimate conversation. 

He didn't miss a trick, coming to knock on your door one afternoon as you finished packing up your meager items. Even though you had lived in this room for several stands, you had yet to clutter the space, really make it your own. Maybe you had always suspected this would be temporary, maybe...maybe you knew better than to assume you would be anywhere for an extended period of time.

Fantasizing about having a real life with Ezra...wishful thinking, indulgence of the highest caliber. You blinked back your tears, shoved the backpack off the side of the bed, and went to open your door.

"Gentle soul, I have brought you sustenance! Now please, I beg, unlatch from the fickle teat of your creative muse to indulge with me." The former prospector implored from the doorway of your room, shaking a small paper bag at you. 

The scent of the sopaipillas in the bag hit your nose and you heard your stomach roar in reply. Ezra quirked a brow as you flushed. "Well, I guess a...a snack wouldn't hurt." You mumbled.

"I have greatly missed your company these past days." Ezra admitted softly after the two of you had posted up on the couch (you clutching your small sketchbook like a shield), his words clawing at your heart. "I feared you must be growin' weary of the burden of my presence."

You nearly choked to death right there, coughing and sputtering. "What? No, of course not! If anything, I'm surprised you're not tired of me!" You replied once you managed to swallow, guiltily thinking of the small knapsack that you had thrown into the space between your bed and the wall. Your plan was to leave a little later this evening, slip out while he was occupied with Serv A/V correspondence. He dedicated a certain amount of time in the early evening to managing his business affairs, currently working to iron a few more things out with Anglio regarding proprietary Serv-reader programs that wanted to port his tale. Hopefully by the time he realized you had left, you would be checked into your temporary quarters.

Ezra opened his mouth to answer you, but a chime at the door cut him off. "Did you order somethin'?" He asked, his face lighting up when you shook your head. "Ah, it must be something of mine then! How tantalizing, I keep forgetting what I've purchased. I love the surprise every time somethin' appears on the stoop." He grinned like a child, bouncing to his feet.

Stay happy for a little while longer, you found yourself begging silently. His smiles warmed you from the inside out and you knew that you would miss them immensely.

You watched as Ezra popped the door open, the man signing for the thick envelope while the courier hovered patiently. "I don't recall…" he trailed off, hip-checking the door closed and ripping the envelope lip with a puzzled expression on his face. 

"Who's it from?" You asked, trying to sound nonchalant. That's not supposed to get here until tomorrow, you reassured yourself. This must just be a coincidence. The envelope did bear a striking resemblance to the ones from your printer, but surely--

Oh no.

You felt your breath hitch as you spotted the return address. You had specifically requested that this delivery arrive tomorrow, you had planned to leave later tonight, oh no! You lunged to snatch the envelope from his hands. "Wait, wait, don't look!" You exclaimed sharply.

Ezra flinched in surprise at your abrupt change in volume, dropping the open envelope as his startled brown eyes flew to yours. Your hard copies spilled out onto the floor, pages flying here and there.

Shit.

"Gentle soul, what is...what is all this?" Ezra asked cautiously when you crouched to start picking the sheets up. "Are you workin' on a new project?"

Your hands trembled as you collected the sheets scattered on the floor at his feet. He knelt after a moment, but you knocked his arm away when he reached for a sheet. "I'm leaving." You whispered. "I made you this to...to try to explain." 

You pressed the stack of pages, now reorganized, into his limp hands. Ezra didn't even look down, his fingers automatically gripping the paper. "What?" His voice was hoarse.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. "I said, I'm leaving. I made you this to explain." Please don't hate me.

"Gentle soul, I...surely we can engage in some civil discourse about this? Have I done something to vex you?" 

"No, it's not you."

"You'll forgive me if I am not reassured by your statement." He muttered. "I can think of no other reason that you would attempt a covert exodus like a beleaguered Israelite. Should I investigate the kitchen for unleavened bread?"

"I...what?" You asked in confusion. "Bread?"

Ezra groaned, shaking his head. "Never mind." He then asked bluntly, "why are you leaving?" 

You tapped the sheets in his hands, smiling tremulously. "Goodbye, Ezra." With that, you got to your feet and bolted to your bedroom, your face burning with embarrassment. You hated that you anticipated an explosion even after all this time; this was Ezra, not Damon. You picked up your pack and slid on your boots, then hesitantly crept back out.

Ezra was still on the floor. He hadn't moved an inch, just staring down at the pages in his hands. You skittered past him tentatively, but he didn't so much as glance in your direction. This was what you had decided, you reminded yourself while depositing your fob to the apartment on the table next to the door. You had chosen this route. All you could do now was stick to it. The door clicked closed behind you but instead of relief, you felt gut-wrenching sorrow.

Ezra,

It's time for me to leave. I've never been good with words. They always get tangled up inside me.

You popped open the door to the complex stairs in the hallway, sniffling quietly as you began making your way down.

I wish I could tell you in a way that I knew you would understand. I wish I could articulate like you, but all I can do is draw.

You checked the time on your battered watch. You hadn't invested in a new chronometer yet, the bulky square still serving its purpose even with a cracked screen. Perhaps you were too hesitant with your good fortune, you mused, but after having spent so many years carefully scraping and budgeting for every piece of gear, there was bound to be an adjustment period.

So here it is. Ramshackle and hackneyed; everything that you hate. It's got nothing to do with you, so please don't be upset. I just know that I shouldn't stay here any longer. 

Your mind's eye ran through your sketches over and over. Weary, worn-out boots. A leaking mug, broken and poorly repaired, pieces that would never fit back together properly. Your helmet, the dome cracked, overgrown in creeping, mossy green. Alone. 

You should be able to get on with your life. You don't need me hanging around.

You rubbed your temples. It was too early for check-in, but you were certain that the hotel wouldn't mind you sitting in the lobby for a few hours. 

You reached the ground floor without incident, emerging onto the street and weaving your way through the crowded sidewalks of Puggart Bench. Maybe you would go off-planet, get away from the crush of Central's runoff. But that might mean a pod…

You could easily buy your own ship, though you would have to hire a pilot. Perhaps you could get your pilot's license? You would already need one if you wanted to have ground transport options, instead of being subjected to the mercy of the Pug's PTS. Of course. There it was, a plan. This wouldn't be so difficult. You had survived on your own for most of your life! 

You squared your shoulders, scrubbing at your face in an effort to shore yourself up. Of course you could handle this. "I can do this." You said aloud, clenching your fists determinedly. "I have four hours until check-in. Tomorrow I have my appointment slated to look at living spaces, and I'll stop by the registry to sign up for the courses. Then, I can go to the grocery depot-" You continued ticking off your objectives, searching through your pockets for your analog sketchbook so you could write everything down. Where is-?

You thought you were imagining things for a moment when you heard Ezra's voice. "The gentry will think you've gone lunar if you keep rambling to yourself, gentle soul." 

He sounded slightly out of breath. You froze when a familiar hand tapped your most recent sketchbook against your arm. You must have left it on the couch. For a split-second, you debated on trying to lose him again in the thick crowd. 

But then, "Wait, please. Just...permit me a moment of your time." He begged. You sighed and obligingly struggled along crossways to the general flow of pedestrian motion, following him to the sheltered harbor of a nearby doorway.

Ezra shoved his hands into his pockets, looking incredibly rumpled. You folded your arms over your chest, barely resisting the urge to hug yourself nervously. "Look." You said quietly. "If you saw the thing I gave you, you know why I'm doing this."

"I understand the trajectory, but I am still in the dark when it comes to the catalyst." Ezra muttered. "What brought you to such a conclusion? What scurrilous thoughts have flourished, propagated, conspired to usher you onto the path of solitude that you are so determined to float without me?"

I love you. I love you. I love you and I'm scared-

"I think I love you, okay?!" You exploded, flinging the words heedlessly as you finally dared to actually look at him. "I love you and I...Ezra, I'm-" Your lower lip began to quiver while you came to terms with what you had just done, your sentence drying up and your face flushing with shame. "I'm…"

"You're what?" He encouraged you softly, his eyes impossibly, infuriatingly kind. 

"Scared." You managed to get out, a raw hiccup catching in your chest. 

"Why?" You gestured vaguely up and down at your body, giving him a helpless little shrug. Ezra shook his head. "Attempt again. I want to hear what you have to say, but you must speak."

"I'm not...I'm...Ezra, I'm just-" Your voice dropped to a defeated whisper, tears beginning to roll down your face. "I'm broken."

"By whose definition?" He asked sharply, his visible bristling causing a spike of gratitude to nourish the flame in your stomach. "Who has planted these thoughts in your head? Because they are a bold-faced liar."

"I don't expect you to understand-"

"Oh certainly!" He interrupted you in that ferociously cheery tone, "Why would I, a simple floater that has been crushed under the monstrous heft of the Great Chain time and again, understand what it's like to feel worthless or used? Better yet, abandoned."

"It's different for me!" You cried, hating how pitiful your voice sounded. "You deserve--you deserve everything and I'm so...I'm dirty, I'm wrong and-"

"How the hell can you say things like that about yourself?" Ezra's large hands framed your face gently, his thumbs brushing away your tears. "How can you spout such untruths about the woman I love?" He murmured tenderly.

The woman I love. The woman I love. The woman I love.

You stared up at him, certain that your mouth was agape. "You speak of deserving with no regard for how little I deserve you, gentle soul. It wounds me that you think so low of yourself." Ezra breathed, his eyes flicking back and forth between your own. "All I can think about when I look at you is how much I do not deserve...any of this. The stability, the contentment. I am akin to a somnolent cat on a warm windowsill, gentle soul." His expression grew pained, clouded with thought. "My life has not been an easy one, perennially by the fault of my own hand. I did not anticipate such...fortuitously serendipitous circumstances, wherein I would be confronted with the task of engaging in mutual lodgin' strictly for the sake of enjoyment of another's company, you must understand."

"I uh." You swallowed, "I probably will once I figure out what you said, give me a minu-"

"Let me translate into the layman's vernacular then. To spare you the...intellectual toil." Ezra sucked in a ragged breath. "I would appreciate you giving me the honor of er, being able to pursue a relationship with you. I would like to kiss you. I would like to kiss...as much of you as I can. I would like to touch you, wherever and whenever you'll permit. I would like to know you...i-intimately."

His awkward little stammer at the end set you off, helpless laughter bubbling up in your chest. "Ezra-!" You sputtered, clinging to his hand.

"What?" He protested. "I am a loquacious fool, gentle soul! Simplicity undoes me, as sure as your tenderness undoes me! I am at a loss." He pressed his forehead to your own. "I beg of you, don't leave. Not yet. At least allow me to attempt to...to offer you something. Anything. Permit me to prove you wrong."

"I don't know if you can." You murmured sadly. 

"You have saved me time and again, gentle soul." Ezra reasoned. "With your permission, with your consent, I...martyr's malfeasance, let me help." His voice broke. "You nearly died, I nearly lost you in that Green Purgatory. I do not approach this task lightly, please understand. You are immensely precious to me, and I...I am afraid I am being too verbose once more."

You reached out to run your fingers through the blond patch on his temple, then checked your watch with a put-upon sigh. "Well, if we hurry home, I can cancel my reservations before they charge me." 

"Home?" He echoed hopefully, his eyes brightening as he nudged his head against your palm.

"Yeah." You nodded, allowing a little smile to curve your lips. "Home."

…

"I haven't done anything for months, so I…" you trailed off nervously, your hands clasped in your lap. "I don't know whether I even can anymore, you know?" You admitted.

Ezra nodded from his spot by the mantle, circling around behind the couch as he spoke. "I will not rush you, gentle soul. We focus solely on encouraging your relaxation." Your hands dropped to unbutton your shirt and a hand lightly tapping your wrist halted your motion. "Be still." He murmured. "You are safe here. Disrobing is not even on the itinerary for this week."

"The itiner…tell me you have a weird little chart somewhere." You snickered, faltering when his large palms pressed down on your shoulders and eased you back against the couch.  

"It is not little, I assure you." Ezra's thumbs slid over the back of your neck. "Rehabilitation is no laughing matter. I will speak throughout so you know that it is me here. If you wish to close your eyes, please do. If you wish for me to stop, simply raise your hand."

"Wh-What are you going to do?" You queried warily.

"Rub your shoulders." 

You blinked, confused but immensely relieved. You had thought… "You don't want to...y'know?"

"Gentle soul, never doubt my want." Ezra muttered darkly. "The quest for knowledge is one of eternal restraint, prudent temperance and mute burden." You hummed, not entirely sure what he meant by that. His palms were calloused and warm even through the fabric of your shirt, large fingers spread on your shoulders. Strong thumbs carefully worked into the nape of your neck, alternating in circles back and forth, back and forth. "What shall I speak of, gentle soul?"

"Hmm?" You were so focused on his hands you hadn't really heard his question. Ezra chuckled and repeated himself. "Oh! Um, I...well, whatever you can think of. I like hearing you talk. You could probably read the ingredients on a ration bar and I'd be invested."

Ezra sputtered, trying to muffle his laugh with his shoulder. "There's only so many ways I can expound upon such gripping topics as monosodium glutamate before it lapses into tedium, gentle soul." He hummed low in his throat, then opened with, "On a most divinely appointed day, when our beloved Screamer had been taken by tempestuous winds and scorching rains, I found myself as William Bligh."

"Oh, I love this one." You grinned, settling against the couch. "Favorite story, hands down."

"The increase of your inclination towards bias when I am involved is duly noted and immensely appreciated, gentle soul." You could hear his smile, picturing it in your head with ease. The way his eyes crinkled at the sides, his brows pitching slightly. "By the grace of Kevva I was tossed upon the mercies of fickle men who would not hesitate to slit my throat to save their own…"

...

The shoulder rubbing became a bi-nightly engagement. Ezra would recite a chapter from Aurelac And I, occasionally adding little bits in for flair as he went. Tonight was one such night, "She swaggered into the tent, braggadocious and bold, her hair immaculately coiffed under the dome of her helmet and it was then I knew my demise was encroach-"

"You are ridiculous, I am so far from braggadocious!" You interrupted him to protest. "And no one's hair ever looks good in those helmets. Plus, I was one hundred percent not in your book, thank Kevva."

"I confess I toyed with the idea of writing you in, but you struck me as an individual so fiercely private...I did not wish to remove you from such delectable obscurity." The man teased. "Aside from your name on the cover, naturally."

"I can't believe you wrote it so that you lost an arm-"

"How many times must I remind you that the protagonist of this tale is not myself? He is a man of unwavering moral fiber." Ezra groused. "A man of dubious, shaded past and impeccable integrity. Ambidextrous as well. Nothing like myself in the least."

You make me wish I was a reputable individual.

"Hey, Ezra." You craned your neck to look at him, his palm sliding to cup your ear automatically. "Can I do this for you instead?"

"Do what?" He asked blankly. 

"The whole relaxation thing. Like what you're doing for me, you know?" You extended your hands. "Can I do it for you tonight?"

"That's...it's not necessary, gentle soul, you don't-"

"I want to. Please?"

Ezra grimaced reluctantly, running a hand through his hair. "Well, if you are certain." You nodded enthusiastically and he sighed, slowly settling down on the couch as you climbed off of it. "I am unsure if I am quite so receptive to this particular tech-" His words hitched mid-sentence as your fingers slid up into the trimmed hair at the nape of his neck. "-nique." Ezra squeaked. "Going in for the kill so quickly, gentle soul? I at least gave you the fair play of two nights before my digits even grazed your h-air-"

You laughed quietly, fingers raking through his short hair with something very close to greed. He tilted his head to follow the motion of your pulls, humming low in his throat. You contentedly basked in the feeling of his body under your hands, even for something as mundane as rubbing his shoulders or finger-combing his hair. "Ezra, you're so tense." you murmured.

"You cannot fault me." Ezra protested. "I have a lifetime of prospectin' that these shoulders have borne the burden of without complaint. It's a miracle I can still move, the foolhardy things I've done…" He flexed his right hand idly. "A miracle, facilitated in no small part by yourself."

Like always, you found yourself flushing at his praise. You bit your lip, a little hesitant to ask the question that had been plaguing you since that particular stormy night. You had your suspicions, of course, but you really wanted to hear it from his mouth. "So I don't know if you remember this, you were kind of half-asleep when you did it. You recited a poem to me and it started out something like…'you come to me in my dreams'." 

"Ah, hmm." Ezra coughed awkwardly. "Dare I ask why you enquire?"

You drummed your fingertips on his shoulders, then slipped your hands down to cradle his throat. Your fingers laced together just over his Adam's apple, pinkies resting on his exposed collarbone. "I was just wondering, what's the full version of it?" 

You felt him swallow convulsively. "I'm afraid I have not finished that one yet." He admitted softly.

"You wrote that?" 

Ezra nodded, chuckling, "Is that so difficult to believe?"

"Well uh, no, not really. I just...I guess I never thought about you writing anything else aside from the floater's rendition of Blood And Swash." You hummed as he laughed again, then asked, "What's it about?"

"It is poetry, gentle soul. It doesn't necessarily have to be about anything." He retorted a little too quickly. 

You gasped softly. "Is it about me?" 

Ezra froze. "What? No! As if written word alone would be enough to extol your virtues!" He snapped indignantly.

"It is about me!" You crowed triumphantly, the fire in your stomach blazing bright.

"Hush yourself, you contemptuously smug thing." The brown-haired man grumbled. 

"You're writing poetry about me!"

"I can do little else!" He exclaimed in exasperation, pinning your hands in place on his chest. "You demand it. You are poetry without a page, gentle soul. I have a responsibility to mankind itself, t-to document...such beauty must be preserved, lest it fade to the marches of featureless time." Ezra proclaimed staunchly, staring straight ahead. "And truly, what a disservice that would be."

You blinked down at the top of his head, tears gathering at the edges of your lashes. At your sniffling, Ezra half-turned to look up at you.

"Gentle soul?" He asked uncertainly. You shook your head, fumbling back over the couch to essentially tuck yourself into his lap. Ezra, to his credit, adjusted remarkably well to your sudden craving for closeness. His arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on the top of your head as you hid your face in his chest. 

"I'm sorry." You apologized thickly after a while, certain that he couldn't be comfortable.

Ezra grunted, adjusting his posture beneath you into something that resembled a dignified slouch. "In my dreams you come to me, as timid and inexorable as the dawn." He muttered the words rapidly, rushing through the memorized lines. "In my sleepless hours you find me, tremulous and waning like the starlight. For I am a lost man who wanders bright and dark, all for the fleeting glimpse of youuuu-" He groaned the last word. "And there it stops. My brain, for all its magnanimous, expansive lexicon, falls utterly flat." His hands stroked over your head, fingers carding through your hair. 

"Maybe it is done?" You suggested timidly.

He scoffed. "No, I just...I have to come across the right turn of phrase. The whole thing is trite enough as it is. Hopelessly lovestruck. Never thought I would be the type. Truly, a horrendous conundrum." He lamented, his voice soft. He didn't appear overly distraught about the aforementioned horrendous conundrum.

"Is it making you feel querulous?" You jibed.

Ezra laughed ruefully, his eyes warm as he smiled. "It very well might be, gentle soul!"

"All for the fleeting glimpse of you, all for the…" You paused, your gaze falling to his lips. "A-All for the touch of your mouth on mine?" 

Ezra ran a hand through his hair, seeming a bit flustered as he tried to avoid your gaze. "We have not even-" 

"But we could." You whispered. 

"Could we?" He asked, his voice low. "Should we?" You cupped his jaw, your thumbs rubbing over the unruly stubble he permitted to grow there. "Do you wish to?" 

You nodded, smiling. "I do."

"Strictly to further research, naturally. To...facilitate my Byronic breakthrough." Ezra reasoned, his voice drawling lazily. You shook your head and his brows furrowed, drawing tight at the peak of his nose. "No?"

"Because I want to." You confessed shyly. 

Ezra cleared his throat, hoarsely rasping a single word. "Temperance."

"What?"

"Don't trouble yourself. I'm merely makin' a note of what to petition the saints for later tonight." A hand rested on the back of your neck, coaxing you in. His mouth was gentle on yours, tentative; lips moving with equal amounts of caution and curiosity. His mustache sent unfamiliar sensations racing across your skin, somehow coarse and soft all at once. You closed your eyes, whimpering quietly as you clung to his shoulders. "I must admit," he gasped into your mouth, "this is hardly conducive to my--"

"Shh," you hushed him, smiling when he chuckled. You bumped your forehead against his, nuzzling your temple over his Mallen streak. "Thank you."

"I believe that is my next line, gentle soul." He teased. "All for the touch of your mouth on mine. What a deliciously trite stanza." His brown eyes searched your own. "I am lost in impassioned rumination over it." He murmured, drawing you back for another kiss.

Part Eight

[graceslavenderhaze]

haunted {connor stevens}

synopsis: connor knows your soul and you know his.

authors note:

 friends to lovers? fuck yes! forbidden love? hell yes! ‘no one gets me like you’? double hell yes! ‘we balance each other out because we’re exact opposites?’ triple yes! 

also readers outfits are high key inspired by the iconic julie molina bc she’s a style queen.

fem! reader because request asked for a female reader, usually i write gender neutral unless specified. 

 i threw another jatp easter egg bc we haven’t gotten a renewal and i am on the borderline of becoming feral. 

also this is going to be split into two parts for maximum angst and fluff purposes.

Your parents were always hard on you. Tough love was their specialty, as one would say. So they had certain expectations for you. They wanted the best for you. So there were rules to make sure you always did the best. No going out late on school nights. No slacking off in school. No disobeying.

However any adult who had ever been a teenager should’ve know that challenging authority is a coming of age tradition. You snuck out on school nights for midnight society meetings. You managed to keep good grades in school while being involved in a few clubs to look good for college applications. And for your parents sake you’d managed to be obedient almost all of high school. The ‘perfect girl next door’.

But it was all bullshit. The only person who ever managed to see through it was Connor Stevens. There never was an odder pairing to walk the halls of shadow bay high school than the two of you. He rocked the classic ‘dark and distressed’ aesthetic. He was on the wrestling team and was popular. He was a natural born risk taker and ignored everything that had a warning sign. 

You on the other hand were everything Connor wasn’t. You clashed standing next to him with the bright colors you usually wore in your daily outfits and bracelets that adorned your wrists. You were in the environmental club, art club and theatre. You weren’t popular is the same sense Connor was, sure people knew your name but you were nice to everyone so it was a given that no one forgot the girl who gave out lollipops on valentines day so no one felt left out. You strayed away from trouble and gave distance to warning signs.

You met Connor through Hanna, well sort of, she was in environmental club with you and eventually talked to the midnight society about accepting a new member, you. Everyone knew of with you ,except Connor. He swore he’d heard your name before but he couldn’t put a face to that name at all. So he’d hung around after one of your environmental club meetings with the intention of bumping into Hanna and her introducing him to you. But the day he’d hung around Hanna had a dentist appointment and not knowing anything about Connor’s plan whatsoever, he was left in the dark. 

September, sophomore year

Connors eyes skimmed over the crowd of various classmates but he failed to find his red headed friend, his lack of subtlety gave him away. You were walking with your friends Carrie and Kayla. When you noticed the lanky boy dressed in all black. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You said to your friends as you parted ways. Once Connor noticed you he tried his best to look as if he wasn’t spying.

“Hey.” You introduced yourself playing with the strap of your backpack as your looked at your classmate who was currently leaning against a tree. He turned acting as if he hadn’t been caught by you. “Hi. I was just.. hanging around.” He said brushing several fallen leaves off of his jacket that had fallen from the light fall breeze that had started to roll in. 

You nodded, “You totally weren’t spying or anything like that right?” You crossed your arms in front of you. His face went slightly red with embarrassment before he started to stutter. “N-no. I was waiting for Hanna.” He said with composure. 

You laughed dipping your head down for a second before looking up at him again. “She had a dentist appointment today.” His face drops flat. You tilt your head. “I knew that.” He rebuttal quickly. 

“You’re Connor right?” You asked. “You’ve heard of me?” He asked with confidence. “Oh yeah, Hanna talks about her friends a lot. Luke, the mr. perfect, Gabby, the smartest girl she knows, Jai, the comic book nerd that everyone loves and Connor, the lanky stalker.” You said with a satisfied smile. 

“I’m not a stalker.” He defended himself. You nodded. “I’m Y/n and I’m not a stalker either.” You said with a wink before you walked away. Connor smiled to himself before pulling out his phone and clicking the messages app. 

October, sophomore year

You laid on your bed, clad in your costume aimlessly scrolling through your instagram feed. Your parents had given you a sun down curfew and due to daylight savings it was dark by six. Halloween was your favorite holiday and you felt like a prisoner in your own house. It wasn’t fair, you followed their rules and were in turn met with more rules and restrictions. 

You sat up sighing, you had been so excited about this night for weeks. Hearing rustling at your window you stand up and cross towards it. Startled slightly when you see Connor there in his ghost face costume. You opened your window leaning against the frame.

“What are you doing still inside its halloween!” He said with excitement, like a kid in the candy store. If anyone loved halloween more than you, Connor came neck and neck. “I’m aware it’s halloween and keep your voice down.” You said to him looking back at your bedroom door listening for your parents footsteps before turning your attention back to Connor.

“Are you grounded?” He asked with a hint of confusion in his voice as to why you would be grounded. You didn’t answer, which only egged him on. “What’d you do?” He scoffed almost not believing you had it in you to do anything bad. You cross your arms sitting back against the windowsill. He noticed your mood change.

“Hey, you can tell me what’s wrong you know.” He said gently, no longer mocking or teasing. He laid his hand on top of yours his thumb stroking back and forth. “I didn’t do anything. I do everything they ask of me and it’s never good enough. They gave me a sun down curfew.” You said to him making sure your volume stayed low in fear of alerting your parents you weren’t alone. 

Connors eyebrows furrowed, “The sun went down at six. Seth has a later curfew than you.” He joked as he let out a laugh but once he noticed that you weren’t amused he stopped. “Sorry.” You let out a frustrated groan, “ I get perfect grades, I act like the perfect daughter that they want at my own expense, I sacrifice my own personality for them and its never enough.” You said looking out at the sky that had a full moon. 

Connor sat there in the full moonlight. Your colorful bracelets were discarded, your smile that always was on your face was gone, your eyes were slightly teary eyed, and looking slightly past you saw your room. your doors had artwork and posters on the back but the rest of the room was calm. 

“I think you’re enough. I know you’re enough.” He said in almost a whisper but even if he said it any louder no one else would hear other than the stars and the moon. Your attention turned back to him. “You’re just saying that.” You said looking down at your lap. He placed a finger under your chin and lifted your head back up so your gaze was back on him. 

“No i’m not. I’ll say it everyday until you start to believe it if i have to.” He said looking in your eyes. “I really want to kiss you. Is that okay?” Your voice was so quiet that if Connor wasn’t so close he probably wouldn’t have heard it. He smiled, “Yeah, that’s okay.” You leaned in and closed the gap between the two of you. Through all of this Connors hand was still enveloped over yours. Breaking apart with huge smiles you both giggled. 

“C’mon, we have halloween plans and your parents are asleep on the couch downstairs.” He said standing up and outstretching his hand to you. You hesitated, you’d never snuck out before. “You trust me right?” He said. “Duh.” You said. 

Turning around you grabbed a jacket then, went into your desk drawer grabbing your array of colorful bracelets and hastily putting them on. Turning around Connor still had a hand outstretched for you as you slipped your shoes on. Climbing through your window and regrettably, looking down. 

“Have you never snuck out before?” Connor said concerned about the way you were looking at the ground. You turned your head and shook it. He nodded. “I got you.” He grabbed your hands and lead you along the incline of the roof. Turning around so he could climb down. “It’s okay.” He said before climbing down leaving you up alone. You swallowed hard, was it too late to go back inside? 

“Okay, swing your legs over the ledge.” He said in a hushed tone. You hesitated for a second before slowly moving over the ledge. “There you go!” Eventually you got your legs steadily over the ledge. “Okay so place your right foot right there and then turn around and place your left foot parallel.” Your fear filled eyes met Connors. “I’m right here.” At a turtle speed you started to shift down the shaft. Slipping once or twice and white knuckle gripping the side of the shaft. 

“Are you okay?” You swallowed. “Is it easier getting up than down?” You asked. “Much.” He said bluntly coming closer to make sure you’d be okay if you slipped.  “Thank fuck.” You nervously laughed. “Okay now just go down one at a time.” He said standing at the bottom ready to catch you when you got to the bottom. 

“There’s no more.” You said after your foot slipped. “Yeah now you jump.” He said. “You said nothing about jumping.” You argued. “You’re a foot and a half off the ground, i’ll catch you. I promise.” He said. You turned looking down. “Do i just let go?” You said hesitantly, part of you wishes you stayed in your bedroom. But part of you is glad you didn’t. 

“Yeah. I’m gonna put my hands on your waist, is that okay?” He asked looking up at you. “Whatever gets me on the ground faster.” You said as you felt his hands fall onto your waist. After a few moments you loosened your grip on the shaft and then completely let go putting all your trust into Connor. 

Falling into his chest and your feet plant onto the ground your eyes stay shut as a reflex. Once you were still you opened them, turning around you looked at Connor who had a hard time reading your face. You started laughing. “I just snuck out. With a boy. That i kissed! My heart is racing!” You said taking Connors hand and placing it against your chest. He smiled looking at you. 

present day

“You are blowing things out of proportion.” You said to your mother as you were practically prison marched into your house. She scoffed at you. “Oh i’m blowing things out of proportion! What have we talked about and instilled into you your whole life?” She said rhetorically, she didn’t want an answer but you had one granted she wouldn’t like it. Your dad stood by the door silently as if you’d make a run for it. 

“To do everything and anything to be perfect regardless of who you have to destroy even if you destroy yourself!” You exclaimed crossing your arms. If your parents wanted to play manipulation games you could too, after all you were their daughter. 

“We break our backs to give you amazing opportunities and this is how you repay us? Lying and going behind our backs? Like an ungrateful brat!” Your father finally spoke up. You were never ungrateful for those opportunities, you just wanted to be a normal kid and when you were with your friends you felt like one. 

“I never said i was ungrateful! I just want to be a normal teenager, hang out with my friends and be myself! You guys have made me disregard all mentions of who i am for the sake of this nuclear family image that you so desperately want to achieve.” You said spilling out years of emotions. You hadn’t known how long they’d been in there. Bubbling over and just poisoning your happiness. 

“You just want to hang out with that trashy shawn hunter wannabe!” Your mother exclaimed about Connor. Low blow to an already low battle. “This has nothing to do with Connor and he’s actually a really great person! The only person who seems to care about the real me.” You exclaimed. Your parents were slack jawed. 

“You are to never hang out with that boy again, do you understand us?” Your father said coldly. You were taken aback. Your heart had sunken to your stomach. “We forbid it.” Your mother added on. “You forbid it?” You scoffed. 

“Do you understand?” Your father asked again. You crossed your fingers behind your back. “Crystal clear.” As you turned to go upstairs to your bedroom tears of anger and frustration filled your eyes. Opening your bedroom door and closing it shut. You looked at your window, you were already in trouble. What’s a little more? Shooting Connor a text you then climbed out your window. Connor was right, it did get easier the more you did it. 

After a sneaking around to his house being quick to avoid anyone who you knew would tell your parents about seeing you, you made it there in the average fifteen minutes it usually took to get to his house. “You look like you need a hug.” He immediately after opening the door pulling you into his awaiting arms. You wrapped your arms around his torso. You pulled away and he gently grabbed your chin a sad look washed over his face. “You’ve been crying.” His tone wasn’t questioning it was more of a matter of a factual. 

Your silence only proved what he thought. “Please just talk to me, i hate seeing you upset.” You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you’d even inhaled. He grabbed your hand and lead you to his couch for you both to sit down. He threaded his fingers and yours together, a habit both of you developed during the time you’d started dating. 

“My parents found out about everything and now they’re forbidding me from seeing you.” You said with a bitter tone in your voice, through the whole year you’d managed to keep everything up. Your grades, your attendance in the clubs, and anything else that tied to your limbs pulling you like the puppet your parents treated you as. “Did you sneak out to see me?” He said with a smirk.

“Possibly.” You said quickly biting down a smile causing him to lean in and steal a quick kiss. 

“Wow i’ve really corrupted you.” He whispered, up close you noticed the eyebags from the lack of sleep, his room had light shining that was brighter than usual, and a quick look into the kitchen when you first walked in showed freshly brewed coffee. “Are you okay?” You asked. You could tell the gears in his head were turning at half speed. 

“I’m always okay when you’re around.” He said slyly. You didn’t wanna pry but he looked exhausted. “Did you sleep last night? Like at all?” You said softly. He looked down. “Con, what’s going on.” He thought for a moment about telling you but he couldn’t. He’d be putting you in direct danger, offering you straight to the shadowman. So he did what he did best to protect those he cared best about, he pushed away. 

“Why do you care?” He said swallowing harshly, protecting you was breaking his own heart in the process in a way he thinks might not be fixable. You were taken aback. “”Because i love you, i have since halloween.” The pieces that broke? Yeah they just shattered into more pieces, those pieces all loved you fully. 

“Your parents are right, i’m not good for you.” He had to hold his own tears back before continuing. “You shouldn’t be here.” You had tears welling up in your eyes for the second time that evening. Both your broken hearts were breaking and you had no idea where this was coming from. 

“I don’t want to lose you, i don’t want to lose this.” There had been numerous times during your relationship where you and Connor swore that you were soulmates. There was no word for explaining it, it was just this immense feeling that was mutual and overtaking. Like a wave that constantly crashed over you both every time you saw the other smile. 

“Someday, i hope you’ll forgive me.” He said with his own tears going down his face, and you nodded. Nothing lasts forever. No matter how much you want it to. You stood up and his heartbroken eyes followed you as if you were the sun constantly orbiting. You went for the door. 

“Wait!” His voice beckoned, you turned. His arm outstretched holding out a jacket for you. “Here, take my coat.” You had no fight inside of you. You took it. 

“I’m not your girlfriend anymore you don’t have to.” He cut you off. “It’s an old one from sophomore year, i have a new one. Plus its freezing outside and we both know you look better in that than i do.” He rambled before stopping himself. You nodded and slipped the jacket onto yourself which loosely hung off your figure. He gave you a tight smile. You noticed from the zippers that it was the one he was wearing when you first met and kissed. That was salt in a fresh wound. 

You both stood there, he couldn’t turn back now and you couldn’t know what would happen in the coming week. Neither of you wanted to say goodbye. So you didn’t, you went to the door without saying anything else to him. Then, he just stood there watching. When the door closed he inhaled. 

His lights flickered and he realized he was running out of time. He had to get the cottage and do the ritual before it was too late for him. But he was already out of time.