#ah. ah. yeah okay maybe that person bothered me more than I'd like to admit

[transgender-catboy]

ANYWAYS, I'M NOT LETTING SOMEONE ELSE'S WEIRD TAKE GET ME DOWN

BACK TO GIRLFRIEND POSTING!!!

Look at my gorgeous beautiful (beat up) girlfriend!!!

[hqcult]

PERFECT ## oikawa tooru

the air of perfection surrounding you makes him sick. you're worse than the geniuses he hates

. tw misogny, predatory behavior, smut, noncon/dubcon, slight dacryphilia, corruption kink, fingering . wc 1.2k

before his flight to argentina in a few months, oikawa made it a hobby to swing by his alma mater. 

iwa's too busy and he can't possibly bother his best friend when he's working so hard in college. so oikawa tooru goes alone. sometimes, he comes in early while the team's still there. maybe he'll even join matches for fun — coach irihata still has a soft spot for him, apparently. 

but most of the time he comes when the gym is empty; when there's an absence of the squeaking shoes and the ricocheting balls. it never fails to make his heart swell in nostalgia. ah, how he’ll miss this place terribly once he moves to argentina. 

something did change, though. 

oikawa wouldn't call it drastic but the first time he crashed their practice, he was all but pleasantly surprised to see the new aoba johsai manager. 

you were a pretty thing and the boys adore you a lot. you didn't look the type to apply as manager just to score an athlete boyfriend nor did you seem to have any other objective other than taking care of the team. oikawa can say as much because he could see how the new captain looks at you and the way you purposely try to keep things platonic. friendly. you don't let yahaba, or anyone in the team, go the extra mile for you.

and the fact that you can miraculously keep kyoutani in check is the cherry on top. while the said player is still rough around the edges, he learned how to listen to you and the last time kyoutani ever listened to anyone was months ago, when iwaizumi was still in the team. 

team morale is high when you're there to support them on the sidelines. in your white and turquoise tracksuit yet still managing to look attractive. yahaba's got quite the patience, if oikawa do say so himself. 

you were like some sort of goddess to them. it's sickening how dewy-eyed his ex-teammates would get whenever you smile and hand them their water bottles. it was too good to be true. you were too good to be true. there has got to be some sort of conspiracy behind this whole ordeal. 

"oikawa-san, i didn't think you'd be here at this hour."

he turns around at the sound of your voice. there you stood in casual clothes, hair tied up and face bare. with the harsh angles the moonlight created together with the poor lighting of the gym, you look normal. not an air of that perfection he’s always seen circulating around you. 

"how did you get in? only yahaba and i have the keys."

you saunter closer and it wasn't a wise move on your part. while you have aoba johsai as the same denominator, the alumnus was still practically a stranger. quick exchanges of acknowledgments aren't exactly sufficient to get to know someone. let alone be friends with. but you never once thought any of that. how naive.

he smiles as you finally stood next to him. you can't help the slight dread pool in your stomach at the sight of it. with his tall lean frame that can easily overpower you, the smile looked more ominous than friendly. 

"bold of you to assume i gave the keys back. why do you think shigeru had to duplicate them again for you?"

you didn't see it coming, the arm oikawa slings around your shoulders before pulling you flush against him. you would've lost your balance if you hadn't clutched the lapels of his coat. 

"can it be…" his plush lips graze the shell of your ear as he whispers. "our little secret, cutie?"

warning bells are going off in your head. it tells you to run and stay the fuck away from him but you did nothing of the sort, had only forced a polite smile and swiftly ducked around to get his arm off you. 

this is oikawa tooru we're talking about. 

yeah, you know he's quite the ladies man but you doubt he'd go... that far, especially if he knows the person's uncomfortable. not to mention, you're part of the volleyball team! you're managing his past team. surely, maybe, the familial bond extended to you too despite only joining their little family this year. you were just being paranoid. you were reading into it too much. 

"uhm, yes. of-of course."

oikawa does have to admit, seeing little miss perfect stutter and avert her eyes from him did wonders to his ego. well, now you don't look anything like the goddess his ex-team worships. you're not exuding the same level of confidence or reliability that you always carry yourself with. you look unsure of yourself. powerless in the face of real dominance. 

"why are you here?"

"i…" is it really wise for you to say why? "i forgot the team's record notebook in the girl's locker room. i need to pass a summary of it to coach tomorrow.”

oikawa smiles, eyes comically lighting up in excitement before slinging a heavy, oppressive arm around you again. "ooh, i'll come with!"

you walk with shoulders slightly folded in and the ex-captain likes you like this. all meek and submissive. he daresay you look prettier compliant and not like a self-entitled princess who thinks she shouldn't bother being romantically involved with an athlete. he still thinks you were bitchy and idiotic for friend zoning yahaba of all people. he thought you should be very thankful for getting noticed by his junior. 

but oh well, at least oikawa gets to have a go. 

to witness firsthand what the fuss about you is all about.

you wanted to shrug his arm away and he knows that but he won't do it. the fact that you're struggling to even speak up about it makes him smirk. see, now you know your place. as you should. sometimes, girls like you who get silly little ideas in their head should be reminded of where they truly stand in the food chain. oikawa is more than glad to be the one reminding you. 

you told him to wait outside while you sauntered into the girls' locker room and oikawa smiles that innocent smile before nodding. 

a prey really shouldn't have turned her back on a predator.

just as you picked up your blue notebook on the bench, the resounding lock of the door clicking shut sounded too loud in a closed-off space. "oikawa—'

"you know, i'd really appreciate if we drop formalities. i think screaming tooru while i fuck you sound way better. makes things more intimate, dontcha think?"

he was onto you before you even got the chance to turn around. the notebook you were holding drops to the ground as he grabs hold of your wrists, his leg swiping at your ankles to tackle you to the ground. he's quick. the floor is hard and cold when your back crashes into it. you wince, the shock of what's happening yet to register in your system. never before thinking that this sort of thing will happen to you.

oikawa isn't as cruel or disgusting as you think. you were both legal adults. he knows. after all, he was there when the team decided to throw you a surprise birthday party on your 18th. he was also there from around the corner, eavesdropping when yahaba pulled you aside and confessed his feelings to you and you had the fucking audacity to turn him down. 

he doesn't want to call this revenge, not when he'd still do it whether or not shigeru had confessed. 

you were from a different breed of people. worse than geniuses. you are so disgustingly perfect in every sense of the word that it's so fucking unfair. it fueled jealousy more severe than he ever felt from tobio or ushiwaka. 

because people aren't perfect. people aren't meant to be perfect. even oikawa himself is far from it so why should you be any different from him? you're nothing special. you're ordinary just like him. you don't deserve it. you're not even working hard enough like oikawa to fucking deserve it!

you were red in the face when he took a good look at your pinned form underneath him. your eyes are glossy but held fierce contempt as you meet his gaze, your lips sealed shut in a straight line. you were trying to hold yourself back from crying and it only fuels the fire of his anger. 

"what, think i'm not worth your tears?" he growls, a hand coming up to pull your hair. he sits atop you, his legs pinning yours down as he straddles your hips. "think you're so high and mighty that you won't cry for your oh so dependable oikawa-san?" he purposely makes his voice high-pitched like a girl, copying you spitefully. 

"that’s fine, i can give you a real reason to cry."

he rips your flimsy shorts off and ogles at your cute panties. pink with little bows? how innocent. 

his large hand covers your mouth, the heavy pressure keeping your head in place as his other hand cups your sex. the heat of his palms makes you squirm. already simulating the sensitive nerves and you poorly try shaking your head in denial. because no no no your body shouldn't be enjoying it!

"ou're a real piece of work, (name)-chan," he starts, voice conversation as he nudges your underwear aside, the flat of his thumb drawing lazy circles against your bare clit. "why pretend you don't like it? it's okay to accept pleasure from ordinary people like me. you're plain and average at best too, you know."

with both his hands occupied, you can freely try pushing him away but it's futile. he's too strong and your head is starting to ache with how hard he's pressing it against the floor. 

his blissful expression peeves you out entirely. he doesn't look regretful in the slightest. "you should really get off of that high horse, cutie. stop pushing me away. silly little girls like you belong like this, underneath a capable and powerful man to protect you."

you pant, the ministrations on your clit too good but you don't let it blind you. 

"fuck yo—"

but oikawa doesn't let you finish. he swoops in for a kiss, a hand holding your jaw firmly in place so you can't bite him. a particular hard nudge on your clit makes you gasp instinctively and his tongue invades your mouth. he's a good kisser. so damn skilled from all the girls he's kissed before you. maybe if circumstances had been different, you'd have butterflies in your stomach. 

"aw," he coos against your lips. "i see. little miss perfect wants me to fuck her? how cute."

you thrash and squirm, a pathetic sneer on your face as he holds you down with ease. all it takes is one firm hold against your shoulder as he nibbles on your neck, kissing and suckling at your skin until they turn purple and red. he placed them in positions he knows you can never cover even with the official aoba johsai uniform. why would you cover them anyway? you should wear his hickeys with confidence! it's the one evidence to show he even bothered himself with you so you should be grateful to him!

"let go of me, you jer—!"

"i don't think i'll suck on your tits today, cutie. no time. let's get to the fucking already then, yeah?" 

you absolutely hate his voice. it's the signature high-pitched and childlike tone partnered with that goofy smile of his. a facade he always wears when dealing with other people. a show he's mastered to an artform. he looks awfully unbothered by how wrong this is and it chills you to the bone. 

"oikawa-san—please—"

"i told you it's tooru!" he whines, pouting. "how many times do i have to tell you?"

panic seizes you when his ankles hook around your legs to force them open. he hears none of your pleas and shoves two long fingers up your pussy. there's a slight stinging feeling as he looks for that one spot that'll make you succumb, make you admit defeat. 

"if you want my dick inside this pussy you better call me by my given name or you won't cum, baby girl~" he says in a sing-song tone.

"who the fuck told you i wanted your—shit."

your toes curl and your back arches when his fingers grazed around a certain area. you didn't have time to feel betrayed by your body's reaction as the man on top of you chuckles condescendingly, angling his fingers so he hits the spot in every single thrust. "you like that, don't you? you like what my fingers are doing."

"no!"

"no?" oikawa repeats, measured. with a flick of his wrist, he has his thumb pressing firmly against the sensitive nerves of your puffy clit again and he watches you writhe, lose yourself to pleasure, moaning and whining so wantonly under him. "but cutie, i don't think that's what your body is telling me."

you cringe in disgust when his hot tongue laps at the falling tears in your eyes before whispering against your ear. breathy, and desperate, and ever so patronizing. you don't hear the zipper of his pants going down, nor did you realize he wasn't even bothering to hold you down anymore. good. that's a good start. baby steps, oikawa thinks. for someone who sat in a make-shift throne worshipped by hormonal teen athletes for so long, serving the one great king will be a huge reset for you. 

when he enters, it's a tight fit. of-fucking-course you're a virgin. always staying true to that little miss perfect reputation, huh? sweet and gorgeous but humble and demure. you probably had the same shitty old school belief of staying pure 'till marriage. it makes him harder, makes his length throb and ache with the desire to taint, to soil, to fuck you until that good girl image is stripped away and all you can think about in every waking moment of your useless life is your tooru's big fat cock. your pure lips only producing the most sinful of words to satiate his deepest desires—"fuck me hard, tooru!" "make me your whore, tooru!" "i want to feel all of you, tooru!" "i want your cock so bad, tooru! please please please!"

your longing cries of defeat, the lewd sound of skin slapping, oikawa's pornographic moans—it's a wicked symphony crafted by prodigies. "go on, cutie. cry for me. cry, and cry, and cry, 'til you don't have anything left inside you but your sorry tears and my cum!"

little miss perfect? no. you're his little cockwhore.

[ethanharli]

Requested: On Wattpad

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Top Male Reader

Warning(s): Smutt, Nsfw, Bottom Steve, Top Reader, daddy kink, biting, slightly public sex, slight cum denial.

A/n- .. I'm rusty lol

____________________________________

"Should I say the pledge or?" I tilted my head in confusion, sipping away at my coffee while my gaze lazily trailed over Steve's body, seeing him in his Captain America uniform, but my eyes lingered a little longer on his figure then I'd ever be willing to admit. Steve's eyebrow twitched in annoyance that I so happily inflicted upon him, not caring for the stares of Nat' and Tony as they shared a knowing look. "You should learn some respect" He shot back, yet before I could make another comment he then stood tall and shrugged his shoulders, "Sorry, I forget men of your nature know nothing of respect" The grin that spread across his face had my nose twitching in irritation. My upper lip nearly curling up in a snarl, but I hid it well behind my coffee mug.

"At least 'men like me' have more of a backbone then good little soldiers like you" I practically growled out the words, anger slowly stinging through my veins like molten metal. But I couldn't stop the wolfish grin from spreading on my face at the sight of him, his fists clenched at his sides, his teeth gritting together in obvious irritation and if this were a cartoon I'd think there'd be fume coming from his ears. Steve about came running at me until Nat rested her hand on his shoulder, Tony making sure to stand between us like some sort of barrier. "What do you get out of being an ass?" Steve shot back, glaring at me through narrowed eyes that held no affect against me. So pushing myself off of the counter I sent another smirk his way, but it felt weaker than before, "Language Cap'."

I could feel his eyes bore into my back as I walked away, not knowing why I even bothered to push the argument, hell I don't even know why I started one in the first place, but pushing those thoughts away I let a different one flood through my mind.

He looks good in that suit.

----

It's been a couple of hours after that, and I decided to sit on the roof to take in the cold breeze that flicked through the air, sending a deep chill to my bones that I much appreciated. However everything looked magical at this time of night, the sky coated in a pallet of blues and purples, the stars shinning as bright as they could against the light of the city below, which bustled with life and at some point I could've sworn I saw flashes of blue and red swinging about. Barley hearing the door open behind me, I continued to stare towards the city, gently tapping my heal against the wall of the tower as I let out a drawn out sigh of content. "It's nice out here" The sudden voice didn't faze me, only nodding in return while Steve stood besides me, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"What do you want? You never come around me of your own violation" I grumbled out, feeling a twinge of regret right after I said it. I've never been much of a people person, but when it comes to Steve I don't know- I just don't know how to make conversation with him, doesn't matter how badly I want to, I always mess it up one way or another. "You know what, nevermind-! I came out here to be civil and have an actual conversation with you but you obviously don't know what 'civil' is" He spat out the word, leaving me with a vile taste in my mouth as I stood from my spot and turned towards him, glaring at him with narrowed eyes.

"Civil? Civil?! Oh that's fucking rich! The great Captain America wants to lecture me on being civil!" I shouted, my hands shooting up in exasperation, anger slowly starting to bubble up within me as I took a step towards him, forcing him to take a step back.

"Maybe I wouldn't have to if you'd stop acting like a street thug!" He retorted, holding my vicious glare with his own, taking another step back when I took another step forward.

"Yeah well this 'street thug' didn't even get a fucking thank you for saving your life! Is it so fucking hard for someone as 'great' and 'amazing' as you," My words came out dangerously low, trapping the slightly shorter man against the metal door, my hand slamming down besides his head as I spat out the words. "To tell someone 'like me' a simple thank you? I got hospitalized and in the end the only ones that thanked me were the one's I didn't even save."

I didn't even notice the way his face heated up from the close proximity, being to wrapped up in my own bubble that I just couldn't pay attention. "Is it really that impossible for you to tell me something so simple just because of my profession?!" I couldn't even feel the way his hands gripped at my coat, "Cause if that's the case then fine! I'm so fucking sorry for caring-!" My words were cut short when I was suddenly yanked forwards, feeling a pair of soft lips press against my own in a desperate motion that left me breathless. My hands immediately found their way to his hips, pressing his back firmly against the metal door as his hands traveled up into my hair, his fingers tangling into the [H/c] strands while mine slowly slipped under the hem of his shirt, feeling his bare skin against my fingertips.

"You talk to much" He mumbled out softly, pulling me closer against him until our bodies were completely connected, and I couldn't tare my gaze away from those beautiful blue eyes that I didn't even know how much I adored until now. "You're insufferable" I growled out playfully, not truly meaning the words but from the smile that tugged at his lips I could tell he knew that. I was pleasantly surprised when he lifted his leg up to hook around my hip, and knowing his intention I happily placed my hands under his thighs and hoisted him up, his legs instantly wrapping around my hips as he quickly yanked off his shirt, as I did the same. Letting my hands wander up his toned body while my leg helped keep him propped up against the door.

My heart practically hammered in my chest, and I could only hope he felt the same when I slowly dragged my tongue up from the base of his neck to his ear, taking his earlobe between my teeth to give it a small tug, feeling a light sting in my lower abdomen when I heard a choked gasp come from his parted lips, along with a few heavy pants that brought a wolfish grin to my face. "Damn, we barley even started and you're already panting like a bitch in heat" I purred, moving a hand down to run over his growing erection, "Ah!" I couldn't help but lick my upper lip in a slow motion, feeling my excitement grow from all the cute reactions he makes. Letting out a low chuckle I pressed my tongue against his shoulder, opening my mouth to leave a harsh bite, "F-Fuck!" He cursed, panting heavily as I press my nose to the base of his neck, biting down there as well while my thumbs graze over his nipples.

"D-Daddy.." I froze at the name, surprise evident on both our faces but a deep red blush manages to crawl up his neck and cheeks while a long smirk tugged at my lips. "I-Im so sorry-" I quickly shut him up by capturing his lips with my own, pressing my hips against his own to create some sort of friction as my thumbs begin to roll over his nipples, toying with them almost agonizingly slow. Drawing my tongue over his bottom lip I felt him moan into the kiss as I slipped my tongue inside, our tongues brushing together in heated desperation until I pulled back for air, a string of saliva connected to our lips as a deep chuckle reverberated throughout my chest, bringing my lips to his ear, my hands slowly working at his pants. "C'mon baby boy, say it again."

"Daddy.." He moaned out breathlessly as I lifted him up further to pull down his pants and boxers, just enough to make it easy as I wrapped my hand around his cock, rubbing my thumb over his swollen tip, "D-Daddy!" My tongue darted over my upper lip once more as he pressed his forehead against my own, his arms gripping onto my shoulders tightly as I moved my hand at a faster pace, loving the way his mouth parted with sharp breaths that I could see in the chilly air that couldn't even nip at our skin because of the heat between us. "Fuck!" Steve shuddered in my arms when I suddenly pressed my thumb against his tip, holding back his orgasm as he looked at me with pleading eye's, his sweaty blonde hair sticking to his face as he let out a low whimper, "P-Please.. Please let me cum."

"Not yet baby, now suck" My voice was steady and commanding as I brought my fingers to his lips, feeling my own erection twitch uncomfortably in my pants when he happily took three fingers into his mouth. The warmth of his mouth forced a drawn out groan from my lips, wondering if next time he'd take my cock instead. But forcing the thoughts down I pressed the pad of my middle finger against his tongue, watching as he stuck his tongue out his mouth, drool slowly dripping down it in a motion that nearly had me hypnotized until I looked into his eyes, using my other hand to slowly cup his cheek, "This'll feel uncomfortable at first, okay? If you want me to stop just tell me alright?" And with a swift nod from him I brought him back into a kiss to distract him from my fingers.

My middle finger slowly pushed inside him, but I made sure to keep him distracted with rough kisses and harsh love bites that had him whimpering in my grasp, and slowly I added another digit. A low hiss slipped past his parted lips, causing me to freeze for a moment until he gave me a reassuring nod, but even then I made sure to take it slow, moving my fingers in a scissoring motion that left him breathless. "Daddy-" He whimpered out, pressing his hips down onto my fingers after a few moments, "Daddy please.. Please fuck me, I need it.." He groaned out, looking up into my eyes with a hazy gaze that made me weak.

"Who knew you were good at begging" I mocked lightly, but my own erection made itself known from the tightness of my pants, so hoisting him up some more I quickly pulled them down, letting my cock spring free as I rested one hand on the top of the door frame, making sure he was secure between the door and I, "You ready?" I asked, watching as he gave a quick nod. So in a slow motion I pressed my cock against his entrance and slowly pushed it in, instantly moving my hand to hook under his thigh to stable him, "F-Fuck- Daddy!" He groaned out, panting heavily and it took everything in me not to just start pounding into him, simply relishing in the feeling of his tight walls around me until he got adjusted.

A few moment's passed until he finally gave me the go ahead, so I slowly began to thrust into him, both of us letting out pleasured groans as I began to quick up speed, "Nng! D-Daddy! F-Faster, please" Steve begged in a low whimper, his nails digging into my back as I hooked both hands both hands under his knees, gaining better access as I pounded into him, "Daddy!!" He shouted as a groan slipped past my lips, feeling my core begin to tighten as I listen to his moans and whimpers. "Fuck baby, you're so fucking tight" I let out a small hiss from the way his walls wrapped around me drawing me closer to my orgasm as he dragged his nails down my back, and I knew they'd leave marks.

"P-Please! Please let me cum- Please!" He whimpered desperately, so pulling him into a quick kiss I nodded my head, "Go ahead baby, cum for daddy" I grinned watching as he slowly unraveled, his cum coating both our lower abdomens and soon after I caught my own relief, releasing my cum deep inside him, "Ah!" He let out a surprised moan, slightly trembling in my arms. So carefully pulling out of him and setting him down, I made sure to grab my shirt and clean him up, wiping away any left over cum.

But I couldn't stop the small that seemed to spread on my face, my heart warming softly in my chest as I looked over his peaceful yet tired expression. "What are you doing..?" He asked groggily, looking up at me with a hazy gaze.

"Cleaning you up idiot, I'm not a complete asshole, now lets get you to bed."

[xpao-bearx]

《This story series is also on my AO3 acc @ Paoloca》

SUMMARY: The bachelors of Selphia conjure up a plan to decide who truly deserves the beautiful princess' heart...if Frey can only choose one of them, that is.

PAIRINGS: Frey x Vishnal, Frey x Kiel, Frey x Doug, Frey x Arthur, Frey x Dylas, Frey x Leon (Polyamorous Ships)

RATING: Mature/18+/Romance & Smut. Please bear these in mind if you are uncomfortable and do NOT report!

NOTE: I have been an avid fan and lover of the Rune Factory series for a looong fooken time now and with RF 5 coming up (who else can't wait?!?!) along with my bursting inspiration, I decided to do something a lil special~ 💖

This story is actually one I wrote--or at least TRIED to write as I didn't finish it--many years ago on my old Wattpad acc (I have a new one now). As such, I'm taking the basic plotline from the original idea I had and simply making it a bit better especially now that I'm older + more mature (pfft yeah sure "mAtUrE" xD).

I sincerely and deeply love ALL of the amazing bachelors on RF 4 and as someone who absolutely ✨A D O R E S✨ reverse harems, I really *personally* don't think that Frey has to choose! And so, here's a naughty + sweet story that'll kinda just delve into my--and I'm sure others'--fantasy ;)

I hope ya lovelies will enjoy this story series and your wonderful support is always very much appreciated! 🥺💕💕 Also, feel free to fangirl/fanboy with me anytime~

P.S. Please forgive mah pathetic ass in advance if I ever portray any of the characters wrong, I promise to do my best!!

"The Princess' Harem"

Part 1: The Game

☆ALL CREDIT GOES TO THE TALENTED ARTIST☆

Summer 1, the dawn of a sweltering season. But most of all...

Beach Day!

Ah, yes, a most wonderful holiday to take a dip in the refreshing water and don the most attractive swimsuits that perfectly hugged one's form! And while it was understandable for the gentlemen to gawk and admire the lovely ladies, it seemed that all the bachelors of Selphia were completely ensnared by one warrior princess in particular...

Frey's tinkly laughter carried in the air as she happily swam around in the lake with the other girls. It was certainly a gorgeous day, yet none could quite rival the turquoise haired beauty's radiant smile.

"Haa... The princess is SO beautiful~" Vishnal sighed dreamily, his violet eyes turning into hearts.

"A goddess among mere mortals!" Kiel piped up cutely.

"You guys are so lame! But, uh... Y-Yeah, I agree, I guess." Doug conceded, face flushing as scarlet as his hair.

"I am a man, after all. Therefore, I must say I agree as well." Arthur cleared his throat, propping his glasses.

"You are all perverts..." Dylas grumbled, though he couldn't help but shyly sneak a peek at Frey.

"My, my~ You're such a bad liar, horsie. Calling us perverts when you, yourself, are one~" Leon chuckled, smirking.

"Who're ya calling horsie?!" Dylas snapped, but couldn't start an argument when all of them heard a splash and saw Frey emerge onto shore.

"Princess!" Vishnal beamed, not wasting a single second as he dashed towards her with a towel much like an excited puppy. "Are you done swimming?"

Frey gratefully took the towel, wiping her drenching body with it. "Yes, I am! And once I change into my clothes, I'm going to be checking the requests."

"You're ever so diligent, Frey. I truly admire that about you." Arthur smiled as he and the rest of the boys approached their beloved girlfriend. Arthur's glasses then flashed as the sun reflected on them, and he quickly grabbed that splendid opportunity for his gaze to drop and hyperfocus on Frey's nearly naked body. He barely managed to suppress it as he almost shamelessly licked his lips, fully taking in and very much appreciating her wet and fit physique.

"Oh, it's nothing! I'm only doing my duties." Frey giggled, embarrassed as her cheeks tinted pink. "But other than that, how come you guys aren't in your swimsuits? It's boiling!" She frowned worriedly.

"Why, is milady that eager to see me in all my glory?" Leon purred, standing in front of her in a flash. His teal eyes sparkled mischievously, as one of his hands reached forward to run his fingers through her long hair. "If you want to see me that badly, I'd rather 'perform' a private show for you tonight~"

Frey became as red as a ruby, opening and closing her mouth repeatedly like a fish out of water. She tried to speak, but no words came out as she could only stare up with eyes as wide as dinner plates at an amused Leon who was enjoying this situation far too much.

"Oi, knock it off!" Dylas growled, wrapping a protective arm around Frey as he glared sharply at Leon. "She's gonna go fishing with me after she's done, anyways!"

"WHAT?! No fair, you can't hog her all to yourself! If you guys are going fishing then I'm going, too!" Doug huffed, snatching Frey away from Dylas.

"No way, you dumbass dwarf! You're not invited!"

"Well, I am now, you fucking nag!"

As the two handsome idiots bickered like an old married couple and fought over Frey, she could only release an exasperated sigh. Honestly, she loved them both, but there was really no use trying to talk any sense into them. The best anyone could do was just wait it out until they inevitably get tired.

But as Doug and Dylas were yanking Frey from one side to another like a ragdoll, they suddenly stopped. It seems that everyone else halted, too, and the air blew bitter cold. Frey, oblivious, could only raise a brow before she finally realized--or more like felt--what all the boys were staring at.

She looked down, Doug and Dylas' hands accidentally cupping each one of Frey's breasts. All of the boys were a thousand shades of crimson, and Vishnal even started to have a nosebleed.

"ACK! S-Sorry..!" Doug and Dylas exclaimed in unison, abruptly pulling their hands away as if they were burned.

"O-Oh, uh, it's f-fine..!" Frey stuttered, not being able to meet anyone's gaze. "I-It was just an accident, after all!"

"Are you sure you're alright, Frey?" Kiel asked, holding her hands into his gently as he studied her face in concern. "These lowlifes didn't hurt you, did they?" It was rare for Kiel to be angry let alone badmouthing anyone, but it was clear from his tone how upset he was. Honestly, Doug and Dylas were a little scared...

"Y-Yes, I'm alright!" Frey nodded vigorously, smiling brightly. "Seriously, guys, don't worry about me! I'll see you all later, okay?" She hurriedly gave each one of them a chaste peck on the cheek before making her way back to the castle.

"So..." Leon began, a fake smile plastered on his lips as his eyes held no emotion. "I wonder who the true perverts are now?"

"H-Hey, it was an accident! Besides, it's all this moron's fault!" Dylas retorted, pointing an accusatory finger at Doug.

"MY fault?! If you just invited me in the first place, none of this would've happened!" Doug shouted furiously.

"You guys...touched...the princess' b-b-breasts..." Vishnal muttered, totally lost in his own world as he was slowly deteriorating from existence.

"Oh, my..." Arthur let out a heavy exhale. "I'm sure you two already know this, but as soon as Frey is done with her tasks then you both must apologize to her again. Accident or not, it is completely unacceptable for a man to touch a woman without her consent."

"Hey, y'know, I've been wondering..." Kiel cut in. "Do you guys ever think if Frey is just being strung along by us?"

"What do you mean?" Doug frowned.

"Like, didn't we confess to Frey at different times? And at every confession, she rejected all of us. And later on, it was only then we found out that we all shared the same feelings for her."

"So, what's your point?" Dylas pressed.

Kiel sighed, staring pointedly at the taller man. "Don't you find it a bit weird that now, we're all in a relationship with her? I know that being in a polyamorous relationship with Frey was something we all consented on from the very beginning, but why the sudden change of heart?"

"Isn't it obvious? Being in a polyamorous relationship means that Frey likes all of us at the same time, which is fine. Maybe she was just too shy at first to admit it." Leon shrugged.

"That may be true, or...what if she's only with us out of pity?" A wave of realization washed through everyone, and a certain pang of sadness settled in their hearts. "Frey is such a nice person, it's possible she only agreed to be with us since she felt bad for rejecting us. And now, she doesn't know how to break up with us for fear of hurting us even more."

"There's also one other possibility..." Arthur spoke up. "What if she actually likes one of us, but can't exclusively date that person?"

Dead silence. Only the faint sounds of the lake thrashing and birds chirping, before Vishnal was the one who first woke up back to reality.

"So... What are we supposed to do?" He questioned softly. "I feel so terrible... If what you're saying is true, then I don't want to continue on like this. I love Frey, but I can't ever bear the thought of hurting her!"

"How about a game?" Leon suggested.

"Now's really not the time, foxy." Doug rolled his eyes.

"No, no. You've misunderstood." Leon shook his head. "I'm talking about a game to see who Frey truly likes or doesn't like. And that way, we won't have to be hurting her and suffering like this anymore."

"Hmm... An interesting proposition." Arthur hummed thoughtfully. "I don't quite like referring to this as a 'game', but colour me intrigued. What's your idea, then?"

"Alright. So, we each get one whole day to spend with Frey. Completely alone, and no one is allowed to bother anyone else. As long as Frey is okay with it, then we can do whatever we want with her. Going on dates, exploring...you get the idea. Finally, by the end of the week, we'll all ask her how she feels and who she had the most fun with. Her answer will then determine what will happen afterwards."

"Hmph. Okay, that sounds good." Dylas nodded, agreeing for once. "How can we settle who goes first and last, though?"

"I think it would only be fair if we go in the order that Frey met us. So it's Vishnal, me, Doug, Arthur, Dylas, and then Leon." Kiel offered.

"All in favour?" Arthur asked, and everyone collectively voiced out their approval. "Good. It's settled, then. May the best man win!"

"Speaking of, I forgot that the castle is undergoing construction! So please excuse me, I'll have to get going now!" Vishnal grinned, disappearing in a blink of an eye.

"Wait... I just visited Ventuswill earlier with Granny Blossom." Doug furrowed his brows before gasping. "That bastard..! He went to go have a headstart with Frey!" He immediately chased after the conniving butler, but not before his shoulder got bumped hard by Dylas.

"If anyone's gonna get a headstart, it's me!"

"Oh, shut the hell up, HORSIE!"

Arthur sighed deeply, rubbing his temples stressfully as Kiel only chuckled sheepishly. Leon simply watched the scene, his fan hiding his smirk.

'There is a saying: Save the best for last~' Leon thought satisfyingly to himself.

[old-hyper-super-clover]

Squeeze that bunny tail!

Part 5 (final part)

Description: The RAD student council as well as the exchange students help out at a bar where, oops, the staff´s dress codes are those sweet bunny outfits that we all know and thirst for. The MCs, Violet and Clover, play a game of who can touch the most bunny tails over the evening without getting caught. Prepare for fluff, funny innuendos as well as my thirst over hot boys in bunny outfits.

This is the finale of this way too long "one shot". Find the prior parts here!

Story continues under the cut. You´re almost finished!!

Continuing to work at the bar for a while, Violet found a surprising guest on the other side of the counter.

“Clover! What are you doing here?"

Clover sank down on one of the chairs.

"A double shot, please" Clover joked, but probably wouldn't say no to a little refresher either.

"Tired?" Violet laughed, handing her a glass of water instead.

"Mhm..." Clover rubbed her face. "I´m slowly running out of energy... Well, how are your squeeze-points doing?"

They exchanged their data. While Violet was doing pretty well with a total of 17 points, Clover had (still) only gathered five points so far.

"Meh... I knew I'd loose" Clover mumbled.

"It's still not too late" Violet tried cheering her up. There's still plenty of time to touch Solom-"

"DONT." Clover shot her giggling friend a glare. "Look, it's not even anything personal, I just... Feel very weird inside when I imagine me walking up to Solomon like this."

Violet's smirk widened.

"You mean like... The fluttery feeling of butterflies in your stomach? Clover, could it be...?! That you lov-"

"I will eliminate you if you end this sentence."

She couldn't hide a smile at the joke, but soon Clover had to realise that her persistence to not squeeze Solomon's tail would have drastic consequences.

"You know...” Violet thought out loud at some point. "We never thought of a price for the winner of our challenge, did we?"

"... Nope."

The ideas kept processing in Violet's head. Then it hit her.

"Or maybe... Rather than thinking of a price, let's do a penalty for the loser."

Clover's eyes wandered up to meet hers, her face curling into a "I don't like where this is going" expression.

"How abooouut... The loser..." Violet began.

"Don't."

"... Has toooo..."

"Please don't."

"...Touch..."

"Why do you hate me."

"... Solomon's tail?" Violet grinned proudly.

"... You really hate me, don't you?"

"Come on, Clover" Violet cheered. "There's still time for you to score some points~!"

Clover wanted to reply something when a weird round of girly giggles caught their attention.

Around the dining tables, a group of female succubi where currently being served by Beel.

But they didn't seem to be interested in the drinks in his hand, but much rather in the man holding them. Even from the bar, the human girls could hear their excited squeals as they kept batting their eyes at the demon.

Clover's head landed on the bar counter in a depressed sigh.

"Whatever... I don't really care about the game anyway..."

In an instant, Violet's whole tone had changed.

"Clover..." She mumbled, voice soft as the patted her friend's head.

"It's been like this the whole evening" Clover grumbled, eyes pointing to the group of succubi. "I can't blame them, but... When I hear them thirsting over Beel, I…"

"Just go up to him" Violet said. "You know Beel, it's not like he'd be interested in some random demons."

The frown on Clover's face deepened. "... And in no random human, either..."

"Stop saying that. You know he likes your company. Likes you."

Clover shook her head.

"Just... Leave me, okay. Thank you, but... I'm just a little angry at myself. I also had so many chances to squeeze his tail but... Yeah..."

Violet clearly remained bothered, but Clover was quick to change the topic.

"Did you get that Luci-butt already?"

"... No" Violet cried. "He dashed away to grab Mammon, and they vanished in the staff room."

"... That's why Mammon was tied to the ceiling fan!" Clover called out. "Explains a lot."

Violet gave a nod, however continuing with her trail of thought.

"It's been quite a while, though... He should have been around the casino area, but wasn't there... And now he's on break, but, again, I have no idea where he is."

"Go search for him" Clover said. "I'll back you up here. I need something to do anyway, so... Go get your man. There's still his tail in need to be squished, right?"

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

They argued a little, but in the end, Violet accepted Clover's offer and excused herself into an early break. Violet was searching through the whole club. Asking some of the brothers, too, but none could give her a clue. She wasn't able to find him anywhere, so in her desperation, she went up to Simeon.

"Hey, Simeon? Have you seen Lucifer anywhere?"

The angel turned to greet her as well.

"Hello", he smiled. "Does he have a shift right now? If not, maybe he is using the restroom."

"Hm... I've been looking for him for a while now, though..."

Simeon mustered her for a moment.

"He might also be outside to catch some fresh air" he continued his trail of thought. "But I fear he might get a cold if he stays out for too long. Would you mind taking care of him?"

"Huh?" Violet's eyes widened in surprise.

"Lucy always had a bad habit of taking too little care of himself. So, could you check on him? I am sure he would be delighted to see you."

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

When Violet pulled open the heavy doors of the bar's back entrance, a head turned towards her immediately.

"Lucifer...!" she called out, looking down on the demon sitting on the stairs.

"Violet... Did something happen?"

He was already in the movement of standing up, worry spreading in his face.

"No no, everything's fine!" Violet quickly assured him. "I just came looking for you."

He stopped mid-motion, but in the end sat down again.

"Why?"

Violet bit her lip. She decided to plonk down beside him.

"I'm also on break now. I thought we could spend it together and relax a little."

She felt his gaze on her, but as soon as she turned to face him, he was looking off into the distance.

"I am pleased to hear you decided to grand me your free time" he smiled. Then, he gave a sigh.

"However... I should probably head back in soon. Someone might need my help-"

"S-stay!"

Violet impulsively grabbed Lucifer's arm before he could escape.

They stared at each other. Until Lucifer let out a breathy laugh.

"Well, if you demand my presence that much... I fear I cannot turn down a request from you."

A little silence came over them. From the side glances Violet threw him, the demon looked kind of... Odd.

"Ah... Is there something you need from me, perhaps?" Lucifer asked. "Or why is it that you want me to stay so badly?"

And from how he looked at her, his perfect attire not shattered, but shreds of exhaustion glistening in his eyes, Violet knew that he wasn't okay.

"I'm good", she replied. "I simply... Wanted to check if you're doing good, too."

Surprise crossed Lucifer's face.

"Of course" he replied. "I am used to working until late."

However, Violet kept inspecting him.

"... Are you worried about me?" he asked. She did not really answer with more than a guilty glance off to the side. "Your worry is misplaced. I am nothing out of the usual."

Violet almost gave a grumbly noise. So he wasn't going to break through his perfect face so easily, huh?

"Okay", she said, tone almost as if she didn't really care. "You know, because I feel kind of exhausted."

Lucifer was hesitating. "... Explain."

"We've been running around for hours" Violet began to list. "The music inside is rather loud, especially near the dance hall. Mammon keeps causing trouble... Well, not only him. It's always tricky dealing with an angry Satan, too, or Beel when he's hungry, or with Asmo when he's... horny..."

The demon interrupted her by giving a huff. He had seen through her plan.

"... So you've come to pity me? Do I seem that weak to you?"

"What? No!" she exclaimed. "I would never think of you as weak!"

She made a little pause. A little nervous, she stretched out her hand to link her pinky finger with his.

"But I... Also don't think it's a sign of weakness to share your exhaustion with others... Let alone to be exhausted in the first place."

His crimson eyes met hers.

"... Why would I be exhausted?" he mumbled. "Dealing with this scumbag of a brother, keeping Beel from illegally eating food supplies without paying for them... Asmo groping strangers, Satan mocking me on purpose... Levi clinging to my side, whining that he wants to go home like some toddler... Oh, did you know Belphie locked himself in one of the toilet stalls to sleep? For two whole hours?" he was waiting for her to laugh, but had to endure her worried expression. "And then there's Lord Diavolo... Mixing his own sparks of crazy into this chaos..."

Mumbling the last part, he looked down on his clothing... Or rather the places where he normally would wear some.

Then his head perked up again.

"Why should I be exhausted?" he asked again. "All that is... Nothing out of the usual..."

Violet's lips curled into a sad smile.

Now she placed his whole hand into her palms.

"You work really hard, Lucifer."

He tried a cheeky smirk. "Words of flattery won't be enough to convince..."

But Lucifer's voice trailed off.

One could even debate that his mouth fell open just a slight bit, seeing the look Violet gave him.

So warm that it truly caught him off guard...

As if admitting his defeat, Lucifer went silent.

He enjoyed how her thumb gently brushed over his hand for a while as he was taking breaths of the fresh midnight air.

Violet was patiently waiting for him until eventually, he would speak up again.

"Aren't you cold?" Lucifer asked. "Your human body surely isn't used to the temperatures of Devildom nights..."

"Huh? No, I'm fine, don't worry about me."

"Oh, surely you are..." The teasing tone in his voice was back. "And I'm sure your outfit is only helping, isn't it~?"

He shot Violet some obvious glances, leading her to instinctively cover her body in a blush.

"Like you're one to talk...!" she mumbled.

"You got me there..." he chuckled. "I would lend you a jacket if I had one, but..."

Lucifer silently gestured at the arm sleeves, shrugging in a manner of "nothin doin".

He got a laugh out of her, and his relief immediately showed on his face.

"Your smiling face will have to keep me warm, then" he said.

Violet's smile turned into a blush immediately.

"Oh~?", he smirked. "A blush is fine as well, thank you~"

Struggling, Violet turned away slightly, trying not to embarrass herself even more.

Then, she felt arms being wrapped around her.

"However, I fear I have to take responsibility for keeping you warm as well..." he murmured close to her ear. "After all, it is my fault you have to sit here..."

The girl turned, and wrapping her arms around him as well, nuzzled her face into his warm skin.

"It's not your fault", she replied softly. "I chose to come and find you."

"... I still don't understand why."

"I told you" Violet smiled. "There's nothing wrong with taking a break from time to time. And if I, in any way, can help you with that, I'd love to do so."

She heard him breathe softly as he was searching for a response.

"... Thank you", he decided to say.

She squeezed him tightly. "You're welcome."

"...Stay like this for a little longer" Lucifer asked of her when it felt as if Violet was trying to pull away.

Of course, she agreed, and so they relaxed into each other’s embrace for a little longer.

Without meaning to, over time Violet's arms were sliding down his body a little, just enough to accidentally brush over something fluffy with her fingertip.

But, oh well, who would even mind gathering points for some silly game when there was something -- or rather, someone else to focus on...

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

They only parted after Lucifer's phone pulled them back into reality.

Sighing, he announced the end of their break.

"I'm glad we are closing soon..." he mumbled and helped Violet stand up. "Although, cleaning the place will probably leave us with another hour of work until we finally get to head home..."

"It will be exhausting… But we'll power through it" Violet assured, squishing his hand in encouragement.

"Yes..." Lucifer nodded.

Then, he pulled her closer one last time, wrapping one arm around her waist while looking down into her eyes.

"However... I would much appreciate it if we could keep our break a secret."

"Uhm..." the girl blinked, confused. "Sure, but may I ask why?"

"No reason in particular... I would simply ask that as a personal favour."

Then, he leaned in closer. Resting his chin on her shoulder, his hand reached to her lower back.

And Violet gave a gasp as she felt how he provocatively played with her bunny tail.

"In return, I will keep your secrets safe, too."

He pulled back, responding to her dazzled expression with a sly smirk, before passing her to open the door.

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

Being the gentleman he was, Lucifer held the door open, smiling at the lady as he gestured her to step inside.

"Thank y..." Violet was about to say,

Then both of them looked inside the kitchen.

Beel stood there, together with Clover, both giggling as they snacked on some sweets.

Violet wanted to smile at the sight… But the "shit, we got caught" expression on both of their faces, paired with Lucifer's tangible anger, made her frown instead.

"... Oops" Clover and Beel pressed out, simultaneously letting go of the meringues they had in their hands.

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

To understand how that situation came to existence, we should go back in time to take a look at Clover's side of the story.

She was cleaning the tables when yet another giggle pulled her out of her thoughts.

The girl felt tired, and had started to count down the minutes left until she could finally go home.

She was really done with life. And those certain giggles made it only worse. She would admit that she wasn't good with things like jealousy.

She just couldn't deal with it.

Not in a way like Mammon, for example, was expressing his tsundere feelings.

No, her way of coping was more... Self hating (like Levi I guess),

And hearing for yet another time how some hot demon girls called a certain waiter over to them drove her insane.

"Do you want to try my cake, Beel~?"

Clover flinched.

She peeked up to see how a demon caressed Beel's arm as she waited for his answer to her question.

Clover couldn't see his face, but, judging from his tone, he was wearing his usual frown.

"... I'm not allowed to eat the food we serve..."

"Oh, don't be like that..." The demon responded, loading some cake onto her fork. "It's my cake now, so I decide who gets to eat it. And I really want yooouuuu..."

She stopped, then one of her friends giggled.

"Are you going to finish that sentence?"

"It's already finished", she purred, seductively winking at Beel before leading the fork up to his face.

Beel was hesitating, for two whole seconds, before chomping down on both, cake and fork.

"Oh... Not again..." He mumbled.

The girls gave a giggle.

"Beel, you're such a beast!" The main (bitch) demon hummed. "That's no good, though... I wanted to feed you another bite, but how, without fork...?"

"Guess you´ll have to do mouth to mouth feeding...", Another chick chuckled.

And as the demon girl stood up to do exactly that, Clover stomped away impulsively.

In her fury, she didn't notice how someone was calling for her. She targeted the table in the most opposite corner possible as someone pulled her arm.

Belphie was staring at her, holding her by her wrist.

"... You're pathetic" he said.

"Thank you, tell me something I don't know yet." Clover pulled her arm out of his grip. "And, what, you've got nothing better to do then watch me be pathetic?"

Belphie blinked in surprise. “I would usually agree that it´s pretty funny to watch you get angry, but I´ve seen you be like this all night. What´s getting you this agitated?”

A deep frown spread on her face, but Clover didn´t answer. So Belphie looked back to Beel.

“Is it because of the succubi? Because of Beel?”

“… Please, leave me alone…”

She didn’t see his worried expression as Belphie was trying to figure the answer to his question.

“… Are you really this insecure?” He finally decided to ask.

As her only response was a short side glare with wet eyes, Belphie understood she wouldn´t talk about it.

“Really… Both of you can be such a pain to deal with…” Belphie breathed before leaving Clover alone.

And Clover felt even worse now.

Not only being so horrible inside, but Belphie tried to help her and she rejected it.

She fought tears as she furiously wiped the already clean table.

Pathetic. Yes, she was so pathetic. Honestly, Beel was probably in better company with those succubi than with an idiotic, childish human like her-

Clover got lifted off of the ground.

Squealing, she noticed too late how arms had wrapped around her thighs, leading her to now flail in the air in panic.

"Wh-what?!" Clover panicked.

"It's time for a break" She felt the culprit cheering into her back.

"... Beel?"

Beelzebub began to head through the local, the girl still in his arms.

"Let's go to the kitchen" he said. "Belphie just told you need a break, and I need your help with something..."

Clover gave some more confused noises, but it was impossible to move in the demon's grip anyway.

"O-okay, but... You don't have to carry me, I'm probably heavy..."

She felt him chuckle. "Heavy? I can carry you with one arm. Look!"

He stretched out his right arm to demonstrate. Beel led them into the kitchen.

The local wasn't serving any food at this late hour, so they appeared to be alone here.

"U-uhm... Beel, are you going to put me down somewhen soon, or...?"

"Yeah, soon..." he mumbled, then walked up to one of the shelves hanging on the wall. "Do you perhaps see anything on top of the shelf?"

Clover tilted her head.

"Yeah, there's a box of... What's that...? Meringues?"

Absolutely delicious meringues!"

Clover gave a little chuckle at the excitement in his voice, but her expression did a full turn when she saw the note attached to the box:

'BEEL. DO NOT EAT.'

"Could you get them for me?" Beel smiled innocently.

The girl hesitated, so Beel asked again. "Please, I can't reach them alone. The shelf is up too high."

"Well... I'm guessing someone hid them there on purpose..."

"Please, Clover... I'm so hungry..."

But as he realised she wasn't going to hand him the box that easily, he let her down to rest on the counter they had been standing in front of.

"Beel, I know you're hungry, but..." she began, however halted as she noticed how terribly tired he looked.“... Are you okay?"

The demon gave a little sigh. "No... I'm exhausted... Not like after training, but just... drained." He leaned against the counter next to her. "What about you? Aren't you tired? Have the customers been nice to you?"

"Huh? Yeah, they have."

"Good" he nodded. "We were afraid that some of the guests might harass you or Violet, but I guess Lucifer's official warning was enough to scare them off..."

Clover fiddled with her fingers.

"There was no need to worry, though. I don't think anyone would have approached us… or me, at least" she said, laughing awkwardly. "I don't have a fair share of people crushing on me like you, hahaha..."

Beel looked at her. "Good. You don't need any demons trying to seduce you. I wouldn't want you to go through a hassle like this..."

"... You don't like the attention?"

He shrugged. "Not really... But I have to be nice to them, so I tend to just ignore what they say. I won't say no to free food or extra money, but... I don't really see why they behave like this."

Clover chuckled, feeling relief at his words.

"Diavolo already said it... Good-looking staff makes more profit."

Beel blinked at her, processing her words. "... Thank you."

"Nothing to thank me for" Clover smiled shyly.

He went silent.

"No... No, there is", Beel then suddenly said, pushing himself off the counter to stand in front of her again. "I've been hit on the whole evening, but... somehow, it feels nice if you're the one to compliment me... You always make me feel nice inside. And for that, I should thank you."

He blessed her with a smile that, obviously, was directly followed by the girls' heart exploding in the love she felt for this man.

However, he still gave off odd vibes.

"...Beel?" Clover called out, seeing how he was deeply contemplating something.

"I was thinking of thanking you with some... Meringues" his smile widened.

"... Beel."

"They're supposed to be delicious! I could feed them to you... If I manage to contain myself. But I'd try really hard, because it´s for you.”

"Beel..." Clover sighed, watching as his puppy grin spread on his face more and more.

"Wouldn't that be nice to feed each other a nice treat...?" he changed into begging puppy eyes.

They stared at each other.

"Beel."

"Clover?"

"We both know you have wings, or could have simply climbed onto the counter if you wanted to get those sweets."

"... But I wanted to share them with you...?"

"We also both know how Lucifer tends to cast spells on the things that you are absolutely not allowed to eat. But those tend to apply to demons only most of the time."

Beelzebub went silent.

"What was that earlier?” Clover continued. “About you not wanting me to be lured by demons? And now, I find myself sweet-talked like this?"

His face had ultimately changed into sulking puppy mode.

"... But I... I'm... I really mean what I said…"

Clover crossed her arms.

"You're a sly demon, mister" she scolded. "And to think you'd take advantage of me like this...!" She fake cried in disbelief.

"I'm sorry..." he pouted.

Silence came over them, in which Clover fully knew that he was thinking of both, how to make it up to her AND how to achieve his goal anyway.

His idea surprised her, though.

"... Want to touch my bunny tail?"

"... Huh?"

"I've seen you and Violet do this to the others" Beel said. "I don't why, but you seemed to have fun, so..." He turned around to expose his tail. "AND I'll treat you with some of the meringues, of course", he added as he noticed Clover was seriously considering his offer.

Clover was grunting something. "Lucifer will kill us", she said.

"He doesn't have to find out."

"... You're evil..."

"Well, I AM a demon, after all" Beel laughed.

And as he teasingly wiggled his tail at her, Clover gave in to the temptation...

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

"Beel... Clover... Would you care to explain what I have to look at right now...?"

Lucifer crossed his arms as he spoke.

Yeah, they were SO screwed.

"... Uhm..." Beel started to mumble while Clover felt her stomach turn in guilt.

"Beel" Lucifer called out again. "Could those be the meringues that I have personally bought and reserved for me to enjoy after work?"

"... There was no name written on it" the avatar of Gluttony said.

Lucifer pierced him with an angry stare. Then he turned towards Clover.

"And you" his tone had the girl shiver visibly. "Demons were unable to touch that box. Hence, I assume it was you who got them? AND ate them, as well?"

"I forced her to do it" Beel immediately chimed in.

"Huh?” Clover blinked in surprise. "Beel, no... I got them! And asked Beel to try them with me. It's my f-fault" she lied.

Now Beel was the one to look confused, and the two kind of drowned in a spiral of trying to protect the other one. But the ruckus only fueled Lucifer's displease.

Already stressed out, he felt like he was about to explode.

If not for Violet who kept him steady.

"Lucifer" she mumbled in a mellow voice, stroking over his arm in a calming gesture. "Don't stress yourself. They will buy you a new package."

Lucifer shot her about the same angered glare as he had done with the others, but softened as he mustered her comforting smile.

With a sigh, Lucifer stepped closer to Beel and Clover.

"... You are lucky to have Violet standing up for you..." he mumbled. "As compensation, I order three boxes of those meringues. Oh, and when we close the bar, do not expect to leave until everything is as tidy as can be."

"Y-yes, sir...!"

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

Slowly (very slowly I know) but steadily, the evening came to an end...

A lot has happened, way too much to fit into this... One shot... Story... * glances at the total approximate reading time of one hour*

...Well. Let's not talk about that...

A little after 4 AM, every last customer had left the bar/ had been carried out of the dancing hall (like, a few of the most drunk ones literally had to be yeeted out of the local.)

Now everything that was left was cleaning up the local.

Lucifer took it upon himself to punish all of his brothers - and Clover - for annoying him at some point during this event. So those appeared to have an extra load of work, while he pulled Violet aside with him for some more leisure cleaning.

Around five in the morning, it seemed like the bunny crew was finally finished.

"Alright..." Barbatos mumbled, stepping out of the last hall he needed to check. "It seems we are done. All that is left is to take out the trash as we go."

"... How are we supposed to take out the trash? Mammon is still tied to the ceiling" Belphie mumbled casually.

"WHO DID YOU JUST CALL TRASH?!" Some Mammon screamed from the staff's room.

Clover mustered them in amusement, when Violet walked up to her.

"Ooooh, Clooveerrrr...." the girl hummed in a rather... Scary tone.

"... I don't like the look on your face" Clover stated in growing fear.

"You know... We still need to see who's won the challenge" Violet grinned.

Clover crossed her arms. "... Do we really need to compare?"

"Yes."

"Uggghhh..." Clover frowned. She pulled out her phone:

-------

Clover: Lord Diavolo? May we ask how many points you have?

Diavolo: I managed to gather 12 points, fair and square. How many do you two have?

Violet: I have 20 points in total... Although I'm not 100% sure if Lucifer noticed me earlier...

Clover: ...

* Clover has left the chatroom *

------

"Violet, I don't want to do this."

Clover's friend mustered her with a smirk.

"Well..." Violet hummed. "I'm not forcing you, but... You did loose, after all..."

"Violeeet..."

"And look" she pointed at the hall in front of the dressing rooms. "He's standing there, alone, for some reason... It's fate, Clover."

Clover gave the ugliest growl.

But in the end she walked up to Solomon.

She didn't even know how to approach this. Should she try to make it sneaky, or just awkwardly ask?

Legs wobbly, Clover came to a stop behind the sorcerer, reaching out her hand in the same moment that he turned around to face her.

"Oh, hello", Solomon cheered. "Can I help you?"

She flinched backwards.

"Uuhhhh..."

Solomon gave her a confused look, but didn't get to say anything.

Coincidentally, Levi happened to walk up to them as well, wanting something from Solomon.

The human turned around as the two talked.

And finally…

Solomon's bunny tail got touched.

...

Clover escaped immediately. Avoiding any kind of interaction, at all costs.

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

The last thing to do before everyone could return home was getting dressed normally again.

And everyone felt so tired that they really just wanted to hit the hay, when...

A panicked scream rang out of the stall Clover was changing in.

"... Clover?" Violet called out, already dressed normally again.

The girl gave continuous panicked noises, pressed out random “What is happening-?!”´s.

Then, all of a sudden, silence came over them.

“Cl… Clover…?” Visibly concerned, Violet was standing in front of the stall´s door, unsure what to do. As she didn´t get an answer, she was trying to open the door, but it was locked.

She had to hurry to get someone to help, and as her face screamed “we have trouble”, most of her friends came to look what was going on.

Barbatos had to help open the stalls door, and when Violet carefully pushed it open…

They saw a small, brown bunny sitting on the floor.

Its green eyes were staring up into the countless pairs of puzzled eyes as they tried to understand the situation.

Violet was the first one to move again. She slowly lowered herself, reaching out to the animal.

“Is that you… Clover?”

“HUH?!”

Half of the people there stared at the girl in disbelief.

“You´re telling me THIS is CLOVER??” Mammon asked with big eyes. Violet had picked the bunny up and stepped out of the stall to get a better look at Clover.

“What happened to her?” Beel asked, worry spread over his face.

Bunny Clover seemed to understand their words. Or at least, she suddenly turned her fluffy head, staring directly at Solomon.

And, well, the sorcerer stared back, an amused smile on his face.

"Ah... So Clover DID touch my tail, after all!"

"... What."

The whole group was now demanding answers.

Solomon chuckled, placing his gaze on Violet now. "I was waiting until one of you would finally approach me and touch my tail... But oddly, none of you seemed to have interest in touching it... I thought I had made myself an easy target, but I must have made it too obvious..."

Violet´s mouth fell open a tad bit.

"... So you really knew of our challenge?" She dared to ask.

But Solomon would only continue to laugh.

"I honestly thought my efforts would go to waste..." He mustered the bunny in her arms. "Don't worry though, the spell will wear off eventually."

"Eventually??" Levi repeated.

"Yes, in a few days or so."

"WHAT?!"

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

The whole way back to the house of Lamentation, Violet had to deal with this grumpy, pissed, simply angwy bunny in her arms. Clover couldn´t speak, but the little facial expression she could give said it all.

“Hey, Cloverrr…” Violet attempted to cheer her up. “Don´t look at me like that… It was fun, wasn´t it?”

Bunny Clover snuffled grumpily.

Yeah, yeah, she thought. It´s all fun and games until it´s about Solomon.

Meanwhile, Bunny Clover had to endure how the brothers kept poking her fluffy fur or took pictures of her.

If she could, Clover would have given a big sigh.

THIS is exactly why I don't trust Solomon... Never did, never will...

[honeyandhondewberries]

H,, okay so after reading Dappled Grove and the chapters with Milo, I am, as they say, weak. So may I request some fluff of a flustered Milo working up the courage to give flowers that he grew himself to reader? Bonus points for reader who has never gotten flowers from anyone before and head over heels Milo/adorable flower language stuff. If possible I'd love a gender-neutral/slightly masc leaning reader, but really, just have fun with it - and thank you for doing god's work with this blog 😔🙏

ARG FINALLY A MILO ASK ive been waiting for this ty ty ty. Tbh i just wanna hug Milo all the time

~~ Easy as Pie (MiloxReader)

“Hoo, boy,” Milo mutters as he stares at your front door, bouquet in hand. “What on earth am I doing.”

He rocks back on the heel of his boots, then scuffs it into the dirt path leading up to your porch. He’s been planning this exact moment for months now, ever since he planted these flowers, and yet he can’t seem to get his rubbish feet to move. Although he cut these flowers this morning, he himself is unfortunately rooted in this spot, and has been for about ten minutes.

“Just go up, and knock on the door,” Milo whispers to himself. “Hand off the flowers, say thanks for being great, then head home. Easy as pie.”

Even with that simple five-step plan, if this plan actually was a pie, it would taste like garbage and like the sweat that is beading on his brow. Milo urges his legs to move, his knee twitches, but that’s about it. He exhales in defeat.

What if it’s weird? What if you think he’s strange for coming to visit out of the blue? Not even that, but getting flowers? From him? He knows you know he grows flowers, he runs the best flower shop in Turffield, but this will be the first time he’s deliberately grown and picked and arranged something for you.

Successfully, at least.

Every other attempt has been futile, and this spot on your front pathway is the farthest he’s ever gotten.

“You don’t even have to ask for a date,” Milo whispers to himself, though the word ‘date’ immediately ignites the anxiety in his chest. “Just offer the flowers, nice and platonically.”

He hopes you don’t know much about the language of flowers, because every bit of this bouquet screams ‘definitely not platonic.’ He doesn’t have any more time to build up the courage, because suddenly your front door opens, and out comes you. Milo lets out the breath he was holding, unable to hold back his smile when he sees you.

“Hey Milo,” you say. “You alright?”

“Huh? Oh, me?” Milo repeats dumbly. “Yeah, yeah I’m great.”

“You sure?” you ask. “You’ve been standing there for about ten minutes.”

Milo’s eyes widen. He’s been standing and talking to himself on your front pathway for ten minutes and you knew.

“I, uh,” he stutters. Milo doesn’t lie often, so he doesn’t think of anything particularly clever particularly quickly, but he needs to save face and make this less terrible than it already is. “Flowers grow better if you talk to ‘em.”

You blink, purse your lips, then nod.

“That’s interesting,” you say, and Milo immediately groans.

“I’m sorry, that’s not why. I was trying to build up the courage to come knock.”

You smile again and your eyebrows pull together, such a cute expression for such a cute person, but Milo needs to focus on what you’re saying so he doesn’t risk looking like a fool again.

“Why would that make you nervous?” you ask. “You come over all the time?”

“I know,” Milo says as he scuffs at the ground again. “But I’ve got something for you.”

Your eyes flit to the bouquet in his hands and you raise your eyebrows again. He finally takes the last few steps to meet you on your front porch and he hands you the bouquet.

“These are for me?” you ask.

“I, um, I grew them myself,” Milo admits bashfully. He bites back the disclaimers and rushed rationales he wants to make, and he risks looking foolish when he forces himself to be honest with you. “You’re… you’re a really special person. To me. A-and in general, so I wanted to say thanks.”

You’re blushing just as much as he is, and Milo wonders if you’re feeling that pull in your gut too. You breathe out a smile, one that’s soft and sweet, one that Milo has never seen on you before. He can’t help but smile too because of it.

“I’ve never gotten flowers before,” you say quietly. “This is… this is really nice, thank you Milo.”

“Would you like more?” he quickly asks, and the words are out before he can stop them. You raise your eyebrows, but Milo shuts his trap before anything else embarrassing slips out.

“Oh, I don’t want to burden you with that,” you say breathily, and when your smile grows, so does that pull in Milo’s stomach. “This has really made my day, week, maybe even my month, getting something so sweet from you.”

“It’s no trouble, really,” Milo says, and he waves a hand at you. “Here, I’ll go get some. What’s your favorite flower?”

You answer before you can think, and the second you finish your sentence, Milo turns and marches down your front path with renewed purpose.

“Milo, you really don’t have to!” you call, and he waves a hand at you again.

“No, no it’s nothing, I promise!” he calls in return. “I’ll be back soon!”

And off goes Milo, trying not to sprint back to his flower shop, and you lean against your doorjamb and delicately smell the aroma of the bouquet. The blush on your cheeks is warm, and you hide it by pulling the flowers up to your face. It doesn’t seem Milo will turn around, as he’s strangely determined to get you more flowers. He’s too sweet sometimes.

You gaze at the bouquet again. It is quite beautiful… and quite special. Aren’t flowers supposed to mean something? You wonder if that’s the case, or if Milo was just kindly offering you some leftover stock from his shop. You take a seat on your front steps and pull out your phone to do some research.

Let’s see, you can pick out the daisies at least. Apparently, those mean new beginnings. You’re not really beginning anything new, so your hypothesis of these just being leftover stock solidifies itself in your brain. There are some tulips, too. You type ‘tulip meaning’ into the search engine, and your eyebrows shoot high on your forehead.

True love…?

And hope! Phew, and hope. You read that second meaning and puff out the breath of air you were holding. Hope is good. Hope is great, actually, let’s go with the hope meaning for these tulips.

You’re not sure what the blue ones are, so after a bit of searching, you can pick out that they’re forget-me-nots, and they mean…

True love.

M…Maybe they have a second meaning like the tulips. Your eyes frantically scan your screen and you bite your lip when you find alternate meanings.

Deep compassion.

Okay… that’s…. better. Kind of. You and Milo are friends, pals, chums, and you certainly have some compassion for your chums. Milo has compassion for everything – people, Pokémon, nature, everything, and that’s one of the many qualities of his that you admire. That’s probably all that means, then. You gloss over forget-me-nots third meaning of ‘fidelity.’

And finally, this white speckly stuff. Looks like… garnish? Snowflakes? Ah, baby’s breath, that’s a strange name for a flower.

Unconditional love.

There’s a bit of a theme here, isn’t there.

You frantically search for other possible meanings for baby’s breath flowers, but that’s the only meaning that comes up.

Love.

Your face warms at the thought, at that single word repeating in your head love love love, and as if on cue, Milo is heading back up your front path, another bouquet in hand. You’re suddenly much more aware of his smile and his eyes and his hands and his arms and his chest and everything about him as he steps up to your porch.

“Sorry for the wait,” he says with a kind smile. You nod and your eyes shift to the ground. “I got you a couple more, I hope you don’t mind.”

He hands you a single Lily of the Valley (to put in your window, apparently), a few sunflowers for your kitchen table, and finally twelve red roses. You can barely hold all these flowers, and when you almost drop them, Milo quickly catches them, catches you, and his hands are clasped around yours. Your gazes meet, bashful and searching and a second too long.

“What do red roses mean,” you ask suddenly, and Milo’s eyes widen.

“P-pardon?”

“Flowers have meaning, don’t they?” you ask before you can stop yourself. “Almost all of the ones in your first bouquet meant love. What do red roses mean?”

Milo’s eyes flick around your face, and he desperately tries to gauge your expression. A bit of red tints your cheeks – it’s the perfect color in Milo’s mind – and he breathes out a sigh.

“Love.”

You stare into each other’s eyes for another moment, and another moment more.

“They all mean love,” Milo finishes weakly, and he finally lets go of your hands. “I didn’t mean to be so forward, and I promise I won’t bother you any-”

“Milo,” you interrupt. “This is probably the most subtle thing you could have done. If you wanted to be forward, you’d just straight up kiss me.”

Immediately Milo’s cheeks flare red and he nearly falls off your porch.

“No! Heavens, I-I won’t-“

“I know!” you say as you cut him off again. “I know, you won’t, or I mean… we won’t… u-um…”

You’re both fumbling and awkward and this is not going nearly as smoothly as Milo had hoped, but something in his chest warms when you gently take his hand again.

“But, if you want to get dinner sometime, I think that’d be nice,” you say. “Sort of like a…. date situation, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Milo says, and he nods vigorously. “Yeah, yeah that sounds nice. A date. With me. And you.”

“Yeah,” you repeat, and you’re both flaring as red as these roses. “How about Friday? You can come pick me up?”

Milo nods again, and his smile is spreading too quick to stop. He tries to hide it, but the corners of his mouth continuously perk back up.

“No more flowers though,” you say sternly as you try to adjust the masses in your arms. “I don’t think I have enough vases for any more.”

“I’ll bring you some vases then,” Milo says. “I’ll see you Friday?”

“See you Friday,” you say.

You both share another few-seconds gaze, both break out into embarrassed smiles, and Milo finally heads back down your porch with a renewed spring in his step. What flowers should he bring you next time? What kind of vase would you like? Perhaps he could bake you a pie.

Yep, his five-step plan was just that: easy as pie.                        

[mamichigo]

Title: picture frame

Pairing: Dazai/Atsushi

Rating: G

Word count: 1,7k

Tags: Fluff, Domestic, Established Relationship, Writer Dazai, Photographer Atsushi

Summary: "Your tired smiles, your warm eyes. I collect all the important parts of you, protected by picture frames."

Notes: This is my gift for @katsuriya! (Katsu ily). Written for @dazatsu-exchange.

*

"Can't you guys just do whatever you want? It's not like I would know anything about organizing events like this. Yeah, I know I signed up for it but— Kunikida-kun, this is torture! You're bullying your author! I'm gonna die of a heart attack… Yes, yes, I'll do it, geez."

Dazai had been on the phone with his editor for the better part of the last two hours. Atsushi watched him pace around the low table of the living room. If it were possible, he would've digged holes with the force of his footsteps alone. After that last sentence, Dazai cycled through a series of empty "uh huh", "yes", "alright", until he finally put the phone down with a sigh.

"Atsushi-kun…" Dazai whined. He slumped, then crouched, then finally lied down with his face to the floor. "This is unbearable."

"Is Kunikida-san being strict as usual?"

"As usual? It's much worse than that!" Dazai slapped the floor weakly. "Just because it's almost New Year, it shouldn't affect my schedule. But I have the deal with the manga department now, and I'm technically the co-author, plus they can't get anything through without my approval. I've been pulled into their holiday season events, it's awful."

Atsushi, feeling sympathy for the clearly overworked author, padded his way and joined Dazai on the floor. He sat down on his knees and patted Dazai's head gently.

"Thank you for your hard work."

Dazai gurgled some sound that Atsushi couldn't decipher the meaning of, and made no further attempt to communicate. Atsushi continued to play with Dazai's hair until he had wallowed long enough to feel ready to roll over and look up at Atsushi. There were clear dark circles under his eyes.

"This is what happens when you actually do your work," Dazai whispered mutinously.

Atsushi laughed and threatened to let his editor know he said that. Dazai, betrayed, pinched Atsushi's thigh. Because Atsushi was a good person and he loved his partner very much, he ignored the sting and leaned down to kiss Dazai's cheek.

"Would you let me do a photoshoot with you?" Atsushi asked.

Dazai lolled his head to nuzzle against Atsushi's knee. He looked up at Atsushi questioningly. "Right now?"

"Only if you want to," Atsushi reassured. "Nothing fancy, you don't even need to change clothes. I think it'd be a nice distraction."

Dazai hummed; Atsushi felt the vibrations up his leg. He squirmed a little.

"If it is your desire, then it is also mine, there's no request I would refuse except for those that cause you harm," Dazai said in a low voice. It sounded like a quote, maybe from something he was working with. Though, it could just as easily be something he came up with on the spot. It was hard to tell, with Dazai.

"You're really too much," Atsushi admonished.

Dazai laughed, tired but carefree. "If you insist, then, in normal terms that's a yes."

"Let me get my camera."

Atsushi got up to do that and changed the lens to one of his best ones. Besides that, Atsushi didn't bother with any other equipment, though the lights and reflectors that seemed to be in Dazai's place more than his own were readily available. These pictures were just for himself, so he would work with whatever lighting there was.

(There was a special allure to Dazai that couldn't be captured quite right in artificial light.)

Dazai was still in the same spot when Atsushi came back, drawing invisible patterns with his index finger and whispering to himself.

Atsushi waited until he stopped to ask, "New idea?"

"A flash of inspiration that might save me from my writer's block in the future."

"That's some powerful inspiration."

Dazai raised his hand to Atsushi, who helped him up by the arm. Dazai rose in a smooth arc, directly into Atsushi's embrace. Atsushi poked him the ribs and pushed him away.

"I can't take your picture with you clinging to me like that."

"Ah, love is such a fickle and cruel thing," Dazai said. Despite his words, he stole a kiss as soon as Atsushi's attention flickered to his camera. "What do you have in mind this time?"

"Something for the New Years sounds fitting."

Atsushi explained what he had imagined, and Dazai, knowing the layout of his own house much better than Atsushi, suggested the locations that would be most fitting for the setting. It was a good thing that Dazai already wore a kimono as his default outfit, with the addition of his most comfortable haori and a fortune charm that he held in his calloused right hand, it made for enough of a nice image to go with the theme. Atsushi held back from saying anything when Dazai held the charm to his lips in an almost kiss, his eyelashes lowered delicately.

Not for the first time, Atsushi was impressed by the sheer size of Dazai's house. Every time they did one of these photoshoots, Atsushi felt the house became warmer; all the corners that were too empty, too sparse were filled with movement. The ghosts lingered less like this.

For the final picture, Atsushi directed Dazai back to the low table. Thankfully, the sliding door facing the garden let in enough light to capture Dazai in the gray hues of winter with his face half illuminated by it. It made for a pretty picture, even if Dazai ruined the atmosphere by biting into a mandarin like he would an apple. Atsushi's eyebrow twitched.

"Atsushi-kun, this isn't even an actual kotatsu," Dazai complained as he flopped down while Atsushi checked the last series of pictures. "This entire photoshoot is a sham."

Atsushi paused to raise his eyebrows at Dazai. He looked pointedly at the low table. "So now you admit it's not a kotatsu?"

"Well, it has the table and the warm blanket over it. It's close enough, right?" Dazai patted the tabletop. "This does the job nicely. Why would I buy a new one just for the heater?"

"You could just buy a heater by itself."

"Irrelevant."

"You're just a cheapskate."

Dazai snorted inelegantly. In this position, lying as he was, his hair fell over his eyes, half obscuring them. Both his arms were held above his head, and the sleeves of his kimono slid down to reveal rolls of bandages; the dip went low enough that Atsushi wondered if he would see a grimplss of naked skin, if he tilted his head just right. As if catching on to his thoughts, Dazai watched him like a hawk, his eyes half-lidded. There was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Atsushi made a gesture for Dazai not to move, and raised his camera to capture that expression. As he stared at the resulting picture, Atsushi thought that, out of all the other pictures, this was the one he specially wouldn't show to anyone.

"Atsushi-kun, you're getting some sort of impure thought, aren't you?" Dazai teased.

Atsushi coughed lightly. "I'm not."

"You always get this guilty look when you do it, just so you know," he helpfully informed.

Atsushi quickly turned his head. "It's just your impression."

Dazai wormed his way to Atsushi, shuffling about on his elbows. Atsushi finally relaxed from the awkward pose he had forced his legs into to get the frame he'd wished for. As soon as Atsushi let go of the camera, Dazai reached for his hand.

"Hm." Dazai poked each of Atsushi's fingers with his own. "Did that make you feel better?"

Arsushi blinked in confusion. "I'm the one who should be asking you that."

"You really shouldn't!"

"I thought you were doing this to help you forget all the publishing stress?"

Dazai gave him an indulgent smile. He let go of Atsushi's hand to reach for his camera, hanging from Atsushi's neck. Atsushi, even though still confused, lowered his head so Dazai could remove the camera. He set it aside a safe distance away from them, and pulled Atsushi down so they were in pile on the floor. Dazai wrapped an arm around Atsushi's waist.

"You get so focused on others you don't even notice your own stress, do you? It's not the worst coping mechanism, but it does make you quite oblivious your own feelings." Dazai let his words sink in before adding, "It's okay if you're not doing your best."

Atsushi inhaled carefully. Dazai's orange-like scent clung to his lungs. He relaxed onto Dazai's body.

"I dislike winter," Atsushi confessed. "It makes me think of being cold and hungry. I… I feel a lot better when I don't have to think about it."

Dazai tightened his grip. "Alright. Then I'm glad to be a distraction." He paused. "Ohhh, maybe I should start writing poems. My specialty is prose first and foremost, but I'm sure I could pull it off. I'd give you a bunch of lovesick poems, and then you'd be too preoccupied being completely, utterly in love with me."

"I'm already completely, utterly in love with you, Dazai-san."

"Then completely, utterly, ultra in love with me."

"I'm pretty sure you just want an excuse to procrastinate your new manuscript."

Arsushi couldn't see it, but he just knew Dazai was grinning. "Just a little bit. Ah, but I'm serious. You always look at peace when you take pictures of me—does wonder for my ego, by the way—, so I'm glad to be your model when you need it."

"That's because…" Atsushi took a moment to compose his words in a way that would make sense. "Usually you take pictures to feel nostalgic about the past, knowing that moment will never come back. When I take your picture, it's more like proof."

"Proof of what?"

"That I still love you, just like I loved you then. Just like I'll love you tomorrow. I think the stability of it gives me comfort when everything else is hectic."

Silence.

"Dazai-san?"

Atsushi pushed himself to his elbows. Dazai was quietly glaring at him, his face pink. Atsushi was stunned. He tried to reach for his camera, but Dazai gripped both his wrists.

"I can't handle you sometimes," Dazai managed to croak out. "I'm going to make a character who is pretty much you, and pair him with a self-insert, then have a tragic, dramatic love story for them. Don't test me."

Atsushi giggled. "Don't threaten me just because you're shy!"

"Atsushi-kun, I don't have a single shy bone in my body, take that back!"

Atsushi just watched with fondness as Dazai went on a tirade on all the ridiculous antics he would put his characters through. Atsushi chose not to let him know his heartbeat was frantic in his chest.

I love you, it wanted to say. I love you and you're wonderful.

[starlit-serenade]

Along the Red Thread | Chapter 5

🧣 Summary: It is said that a red thread connects people who are soulmates and destined to be lovers, regardless of place and circumstances. What makes this difficult is that you stopped believing in love a long time ago. OR. You go to Korea to visit your father after several years. There, a mysterious red thread that seemingly only you can see shows up when you least expect it, and you meet a childhood friend you’d never thought you would see again.

🧣 Chapter 5: 2,552 words

🧣 Pairing: Reader x Kim Geonhak (Leedo) / Characters: GenderNeutral!Reader; Kim Geonhak (Leedo); Kim Youngjo (Ravn); Lee Seoho (Seoho); Lee Keonhee (Keonhee); Yeo Hwanwoong (Hwanwoong); Son Dongju/Xion; a couple of OCs;

🧣 Rated: T / Warnings: Mentions of divorce (Y/N’s parents); Mentions of abuse (physical); Instances of abuse (non-physical); Mentions of child abuse; Swearing / Genre: Angst; Fluff; Soulmate!AU (Red Thread of Fate); ChildhoodBestFriends!AU; Happy Ending;

《 Boy Group Masterlist // ONEUS Masterlist // Series Masterlist 》

It's been about a week and a half since Geonhak first joined you to take Sunho to school. Since then, Geonhak has been accompanying you both almost every school day, waking up early to meet you outside of the apartment and ride the bus with you and Sunho. Sunho loves it. He tells Geonhak about the games he plays, the books he's read, the stuff he's learning in class. 

Some days, after dropping off Sunho with you, Geonhak will head to his dorm or to his practice. But on those days where you didn't want to return to your father's apartment, Geonhak would take you wherever you wanted to go, for as long as you wanted to be out. Whether it was just for some drinks, or to hang out at his dorm with him and his members. Seoho has, indeed, told you many embarrassing stories about Geonhak. Which provoked Geonhak to chase him around. Sometimes, you even get to watch them practice at their studio.

You and Sunho sit next to each other at the dinner table. Your father sits across from you, and Sooyeon sits across from Sunho. All of your plates are mostly empty from a filling dinner made by Sooyeon.

"Today, we practiced multiplication," Sunho says to you. "Areum helped me with it. She's better at it than me."

"Really?" you ask, grinning. "You can ask me if you need help. I know a bit about multiplication."

Sunho taps his feet excitedly. "Does Mr. Kim know multiplication?"

You pretend to think about it. "Hm. He should. Do you want him to help you practice?" Sunho nods, and you grin. "If you ask me, it seems like you like Mr. Kim more than you like me," you say, tickling him. He giggles.

"No! You're the one who reads to me every night."

"Who's Mr. Kim?" your father asks, interrupting. You look at him, and he asks again. "Who's Mr. Kim?"

"Oh, uh . . ."

You hesitate. You don't know why you don't want to tell him. Maybe it's because you want to separate your life at home from your time with Geonhak. Maybe it's because after all of this time you've spent with Geonhak and his group members, they've become almost a second family, your home, a safe place. And when you're with them, your father and Sooyeon vanish. Just for a moment. And you want to keep that safe. You don't want your father asking Geonhak to join a family dinner, and make you face the reality that you only really have one family.

"No one," you say. "Just a friend."

Your father tilts his head curiously. He looks at Sooyeon. "Clean the dishes, won't you?" he asks her. Sooyeon nods, standing up, and takes all of the dishes from the table. You hear the sound of the running water of the sink, as your father leans forward over the table.

Besides. You're an adult, and haven't seen your father properly in years. It's not like you owe him an explanation for anything. 

"He's just a friend," you say.

"And how did you meet this friend here? You've only been here for a month and a half."

You shake your head. You don't have the energy to explain it. And you don't need to explain it to him.

"I need some space." You get up from the table and head for your room, and you can hear the sound of your father's chair being pushed backward as he stands up to follow you.

"Y/N, you're supposed to be able to tell me everything. I'm your father."

If you weren't so busy trying to get some distance between you and your father, you'd roll your eyes. Ideally, you'd be able to tell your father everything and everything. But you haven't spent real quality time with him since the start of high school. And he isn't exactly close to you fatherly-wise.

You push open your door and try to slam it shut behind you. But just before the door closes, the door swings back twice as hard, the handle hitting you right in the hip and the edge of the door itself slamming into your lower arm and knocking you back, and you wince in pain, holding onto your arm.

"Fuck," you mumble.

That's gonna bruise.

You step back and place your hand on the bed to maintain balance. You glare at your father. He's staring at you in a way that makes you feel so small. You don't speak a word, as his eyes fall onto your arm. His expression changes.

"Ah, shit. Y/N, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"Just go," you say. You move to sit on your bed before lying down, not looking at him. "I'm tired. Please just go."

There's silence. Then, you hear the door close, and you relax, shutting your eyes tight. You just want to fall asleep. Maybe in the morning, you'll wake up and realize that it was you who was being unreasonable, or you overreacting.

Today, you and Geonhak are sitting at a table at the back of the library, after having taken Sunho to school. You two are pouring over a comic book together, snickering at the funny parts between sips of the cold drinks before you.

You two have been sitting there for the past three hours already. Time really flies when you spend time with him. He makes you so happy. Even when you two are walking in silence, not talking, you feel satisfied.

You know that you don't see him as just a friend now. He makes you so happy. Whenever you see him at the beginning of the day, when he shows up to take Sunho to school with you, you feel the butterflies burst in your stomach. You've never felt as safe with anyone as you do with Geonhak.

As your book comes to an end, you place it aside and check your phone. It's about 11:30AM.

"We should get ready to go," you say. "I have some readings to finish before I go back home."

"Maybe you could come over to the dorm?" Geonhak suggests. "I could make you some lunch. And you could do your studies at my dorm. If you want."

You grin. "Sure. I'd like that."

Geonhak sits next to you as you work on your computer on the couch. Two windows are open on your screen, one with your reading and one to take notes on. Your sandwich lays half eaten on a plate on the table in front of you.

"Sunho was talking, yesterday, about wanting you to help him with subtraction," you say to Geonhak.

"Oh, really? I'd love to."

"I know." You glance at Geonhak. While you've been looking at your computer screen, you've been somewhat aware of Geonhak's eyes on you the entire time. You don't know why he's been watching you this whole time,and you don't want to ask.

You reach over your computer for your sandwich, and your arm bumps the top of the screen, right where the door had hit you last night after your father threw it open. It did end up bruising, as did the spot on your hip. But the one on your hip wasn't as bad.

You wince and lift your arm a bit, and instead reach around your computer instead of over. You don't want to worry Geonhak, and pray that he didn't see or notice. But you weren't so lucky.

"Huh?" Geonhak looks at you. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. I just . . . I hurt my arm yesterday is all."

Geonhak carefully takes your hand in his, watching you to make sure you're okay with it. When you don't stop him, he slides your sleeve up your arm and inspects the purple bruise carefully.

"You did this to yourself?" he asks, looking up at you with concern, his fingers gently tracing the outline of the bruise. You can't lie to him. You don't want to. And, to be honest, you don't think your brain or mouth will let you.

"Well . . . no, not exactly," you say, shaking your head.

"Who did this?"

You hesitate.

You don't want Geonhak to think you're friends with him just because you still need help coping with your family problems. And you definitely don't want to be a burden.

Your mouth doesn't let you lie.

"My dad hit me with the door yesterday," you admit.

Geonhak looks furious. "He did what? Y/N, I thought--"

"I don't think he meant to do it," you blurt out. "I mean--I don't think he meant to hurt me. He was just mad."

"That's the case every time," Geonhak says, staring into your eyes. "It's always that 'he was just mad.' But that's not an excuse for him to hurt you."

You stare back at Geonhak, and nod. You know he's right. That your father is hurting you, and at this point, it doesn't matter if he means to or not.

"You're right."

After a second, he takes your hands in his reassuringly, and looks you right in the eyes. "Hey. Y/Nie. Do you want to stay here tonight? I don't want you going back there, if you aren't going to be safe."

You look up at him. You almost want to say yes. But you also don't want to. On one hand, you want to spend more time with him. He makes you happy. You trust Geonhak more than anyone else.

But on the other hand, you don't trust him completely. Or anyone. You've given up on that. When the person you were supposed to trust most, your own parent, broke your trust, how can you trust anyone else like that?

You smile, pulling your hands away from him, and you shake your head.

"It's alright," you say. "Thank you for the offer, Hak, really. But like I said earlier, I'd like to give him one more chance. And I don't want to be a bother to you or your members, so if something happens, I'll just get a hotel room someplace," you say.

He tilts his head curiously and frowns. "You won't be a bother, Y/N. The members love you, trust me. Seoho definitely loves telling you about my embarrassing moments," he says grinning. 

You smile,  but shake your head. "Thank you, Geonhak. But really, I think I'll stay at a hotel if something happens."

Geonhak sighs, then nods,  pulling his hand away from yours, and you feel yourself deflate a bit. "I'm always here if you need me, okay Y/Nie?"

"Of course."

You two continue to hang out a bit longer, until it's time for you to pick up Sunho from his school and for Geonhak to head to his work. You wish him a good day of practice, and leave to walk to Sunho's school on your own.

You have no idea where your mind is as you walk. It seems to be wandering everywhere, so much that you're barely aware of where you're going. You're on autopilot as you walk to Sunho's school. It's a wonder you don't accidentally walk into a lamp post

You know that you like Geonhak. You know that you have romantic feelings for him, however small. But right now, the last thing you want to do is act on them.

Growing up as a small kid, you had looked up to your parents. At first, you'd thought they were the best couple ever--seeing that parents are supposed to be their kids' role model.

But naturally, as your parents' marriage fell apart, so did your idea of love. How could you trust anyone with your heart when one of the people you were supposed to trust the most--your own father--already had broken your trust? You don't know if you're able to trust anyone like that. At least, for now. For you, you're happier just being friends with someone who you want to be more with.

But you also don't want to spend so much time close to Geonhak that you fall deeper in your feelings. Spending another night with him will make you want to spend another, and another. And you're too worried that that'll lead to you two being more than friends. Which you're not ready for.

You look up and realize you're at your destination. The gates leading to the school are there before you, standing a little taller than you are.

You stand, waiting outside of the gates in front of Sunho's school, like a parent waiting for their kid. You're a couple minutes early, so you're waiting, listening to your music while staring in the direction of the school while you think about how you like Geonhak but don't want to like Geonhak.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a small ring! from your phone. You look down, frowning, and you see that you just received a text from Geonhak. You click the message to see what he said.

Geonhak 🐥: The members were asking about you. They say hi and they hope you're doing well!

Above the text is a selfie Geonhak took. You can see Youngjo, Seoho and Dongju beside him, as well as Keonhee and Hwanwoong reflected in the mirror behind him. They're all smiling brightly, waving, making peace signs or hearts and silly faces. You can't help but smile. He and his members are all so sweet, and you can't help but smile dumbly as you type a text back.

You: Aww! Tell them thank you for me! 💕

You: And thank you for spending time with me today.

Just after you send the second text, you can hear the bell ring in the distance, signaling the end of Sunho's school day. A couple minutes pass as some students start exiting. They run to their waiting older parents or siblings. As you continue looking over the kids, you spot him.

Sunho is talking to two friends next to him. One little girl, who you recognize as his best friend Areum, and another kid who you don't know the name of. Sunho sees you, waves goodbye to his friend, and runs over to you.

"Hi Y/Nie!" he says, running over to grab your hand. "I can't wait to tell you about what I learned today! And Mr. Kim!"

You smile as you lead him to the bus stop. "I can't wait to hear it. And I'm sure Mr. Kim will be happy to hear it tomorrow before school, too!"

"Yeah!" He grins widely. "Can I show you at home?"

You grin. "Of course. Sunho," you say. You look up at the sky. The sun is bearing down on you. It's hot as hell today. You look down at Sunho. "How about we go and get you some ice cream. Does that sound good?"

"Yes please!"

You smile, leading the way toward the ice cream place you've gone once with Geonhak and Sunho.

You don't know what it is, but you find so much joy in pampering and treating Sunho. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you didn't get enough affection from your father, and you've seen that your father doesn't give Sunho any attention either. You want to give Sunho everything you lacked as a child.

You smile softly down at Sunho. 

[mrsedmercer]

Steamy Love (Tom Hiddleston x Reader) Part 5: ~Let Them Find You~

Summary: You watch Crimson Peak with your best friend the night before the move, recieving a call before you get to bed.

Warnings: Light swearing, mention of smut from Crimson Peak, emotional talk.

Read it on my Wattpad: @/HiddlesStar

Word Count: 1'819

Tags: @theoneanna @midnightdragonzero @drakesfiance @kcd15 @ihthr

Once you got back home, you spent the last 6 days streaming a bit more, making sure to pack up everything you needed bit by bit every day, packing the streaming equipment last of course. On the night before your flight, you invited your best friend over to watch Crimson Peak together, now that you finally have the time. Your friend had informed you that there apparently was a love scene between Tom and the actress from the live action Alice movies. Oh God. Was it graphic? You didn't ask. You wanted to see it for yourself.

Well-- Okay--

You didn't--

It's not that you WANTED to see it.

It's--It's a scene in the film--

J-Just watch the film.

As the movie went on, you talked with your friend every now again when it seemed like nothing too interesting was happening.

"So, you're all gonna be living in the same neighborhood?" Your friend asked you. "Yeah. It's all being rented out for a set." You replied. "It makes it easier to make it all look realistic. Like, it makes the set appear more natural, or so I'm guessing.." "You're gonna be neighbors with Tom Hiddleston. I swear to God.." Your friend ran their fingers through their hair. They were happy for you. "I know, I still haven't even processed it.." You gave a soft chuckle. "I have to be his love interest, oh my God..."

"You think there's gonna be a kissing scene?" Your friend asked. "Obviously. It's a romantic film." You replied. "I'm pretty sure there's gonna be more than one.." "Oh my God!" Your friend giggled. "You're gonna fuckin' kiss Tom Hiddleston!" "It's purely professional!" You stated, trying to hold back the urge to smile. "It's just acting.." "Your lips get to be on his! That's insane!"

"It's acting!"

"It's a kiss!"

You both started laughing a bit. You didn't want to admit how excited you were for the movie, for more reasons than one. You wanted to act professional about it, but your friend did have a point. While it was acting, it wasn't going to be a stunt double or anything. You'd really have to kiss Tom eventually. What if they make you do multiple takes? Sometimes simple scenes could be taken up to 10 times. Will you get to kiss him 10 times?

Shortly after that conversation was over, you continued to watch the movie with your best friend. Eventually, the love scene showed up. While your friend was a bit of a smiling and giggling mess, you watched with an interested expression. It wasn't lewd or sleazy. It was actually a pretty beautiful scene, especially knowing the context behind the scene. You had to cover your eyes slightly when his...'English Countryside' was shown, your friend just giggling even more.

"Oh my God!" They laughed. "That's actually his ass!" "Stoooppp.." You playfully spoke with a shy smile. "(Y/N), Look! He's got a pretty soft ass.." "Stooooooppppp!.." You giggled, finally able to look at the screen again after a moment, but the scene wasn't over.

"He kinda looks into it, eh?" Your friend smirked at you after calming down. "(BF/N), he's acting.." You gave a shy smile. "He looks into it because he's acting." Your friend clarified, making you give a bit of a shrug. "...Okay, he does look a little bit into it, actually.." You giggled slightly. He's a good actor.

Whenever a ghost or anything creepy would pop up, your friend would curl up and get all nervous, but it didn't bother you as much as you thought it would. The effects were pretty good, but it wasn't really scary. More so interesting.

By the end of the film, you were actually in tears. You didn't expect to get as emotional as you did. Once the film was done, your friend patted your back as you wiped your eyes.

"I didn't expect to cry.." You gave a little chuckle as you sniffled.

"Hit you hard, eh?" Your friend chuckled a bit.

"Yeah, I guess..." You chuckled back, blinking a bit to calm down. You definitely made a mental note to praise Tom's role in the film and the film itself. It was brilliant.

Your friend collected up atheir things once you turned off the TV, following them to the front door.

"Guess I won't be seein' you for a while, eh?" They asked you.

"I'm sure I can fly you down to visit the set eventually.." You smiled. You two would be apart for the first month or so. You'd miss hanging out, but you were still very excited to start your career.

You shared a warm hug before they gave a final little wave, closing the door as they left. You locked it and turned off the outside light, moving into your room to get ready for bed. You brushed your teeth and got into your pajamas, but before you'd get to lay down, your phone went off. You were getting a phone call.

You picked up your phone to check the Caller I.D.

It was Tom.

You immediately answered the call, of course.

"Hi.." You spoke in a soft tone, hearing a slight sigh from the other end before hearing his voice.

"Hi.." He spoke, his voice slightly raspy. Did he sound tired or sad? You weren't sure which.

"H-How are you?" You asked, quietly sitting down at the side of your bed. Another sigh left him.

"N-Not too good, if I'm being honest.." He admitted. "Been a bit of a rough night for me...wanted to talk to someone.."

Awe. You felt a little sad hearing that he wasn't in a good mood. He's always seemed like such a chipper man, as if their wasn't a single thing on this earth that could bring his positivity down.

"Who else have you called? Any family?" You asked curiously. You didn't mean to sound rude asking that. You were just curious.

"No, I called you first, actually.." Tom admitted. That immediately made you blush.

"M-Me?" You blinked, sitting up more.

"Yes, you.." He replied with a slight chuckle. You could practically hear his little smile grow. "I don't know, I just....wanted to hear your voice, I suppose.."

You felt your heart want to jump out of your chest. You had just listened to this man's voice in a movie, and now you're having a personal conversation with him. He's even using that natural charm of his. Maybe he doesn't even realize he's doing that. Either way, he's such a sweetheart.

"I hope that's alright." He spoke again.

"Y-Yeah! That's alright, I'm here.." You admitted with a little smile. He called you first? You almost didn't believe him, but it still warmed your heart.

"What's got you down?" You asked curiously, laying down somewhat with your upper torso still sitting up by leaning back against your pillows.

"I wouldn't say I'm down or sad.." Tom spoke. "More so...tired. Exhausted, even.."

"Exhausted?" You repeated.

"Mhmm.." He hummed. "It's a bit complicated to understand.."

"Try me.." You gave a slight confident smirk, even though he couldn't see it.

You got a little tired chuckle from him. His voice could sound pretty sexy sometimes.

"Ah, well...its just hard moving away from home over and over sometimes.." He admitted. "I had been on a couple dinner dates with a nice girl, but when I told her I'd have to be in America for the film, she didn't want to keep in touch.."

You gave a slight frown. You had heard Tom's public dating life was a bit of a mess, though you didn't believe it was his fault. The media tried to paint Tom as the bad guy, all because he's a man, but you could tell he wasn't like that.

"That's...shitty." You replied, earning another little chuckle from him.

"Yes. Very shitty, though I don't blame her.." He admitted. "Some people cannot handle being away from their partner for long periods of time.."

"Were you two actually together?" You asked.

"We weren't a couple, but I was nearly ready to ask her to go steady.." Tom admitted. That's how it's easy to tell that he's a sweetie. Go steady? That's an old fashioned term.

You loved it, of course. He's such a romantic. It's beautiful.

"You'll find a good girl for you someday, I'm sure." You spoke in an optimistic voice.

"I'm not sure the issue for me is finding a woman. It's keeping her close that I seem to struggle with.." Tom admitted with a slight sad sigh.

"Hey. Every man gets his leading lady.." You reassured with a warm smile.

"I know, I'm just...getting tired of searching, I guess." Tom admitted. "It's exhausting.."

"Then stop searching." You replied with a little shrug. "Maybe you don't need to be the one searching. Let the woman find you this time.."

You had hoped that was good advice. His silence became worrying, making you frown a little.

"...That makes a lot of sense, actually.." He admitted, his voice sounding softer. "Perhaps I'll take up that advice. Thank you.."

You could already hear that he was feeling a little better. That made you happy.

"Anytime." You spoke.

"You ready for tomorrow?"

"Oh definitely! The little neighborhood we get to live in is so quaint and small. I think it's perfect for the film." Tom approved.

"I agree!" You chirped. "You think we're gonna be neighbors?"

"We might." He replied in a positive tone. "I'm very excited to be working with you more."

"The feeling is definitely mutual.." You smiled to yourself. "I'll make sure to bring my best romantic side for the film.."

You got another chuckle from Tom. "Your best romantic side? Do you have multiple romantic sides?" Tom asked curiously. "Yep!" You chirped with a big smile.

"Ahh...perhaps I'd like to see every one of those sides one day.." He gave a little purr. You weren't sure what that meant, but you liked the sound of it. "Sounds pretty good to me.." You gave a slight chuckle, laying back more in bed.

"We've both got to get up rather early, so I guess I should goto sleep.." Tom spoke. You yourself hadn't realised how late it already was. You're not even gonna get 8 hours of sleep at this rate.

"But thank you for talking to me. I really will use that advice. You've really made me feel better."

"You're welcome.." You replied, giving a warmer smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Indeed you will.." Tom spoke in a happy, yet tired tone.

"Goodnight, (Y/N).."

"Goodnight, Tom.."

You both hung up.

You plugged in your phone and turned off all of the lights, looking at all of the suitcases you had waiting for you.

Tomorrow, your new life begins.

For now, get some rest. Tomorrow, you're Tom Hiddleston's leading lady.

[hookedonapirate]

Hi! I was the one who asked for more smut along the lines of Emma telling Killian off during sex. I figured I'd also make a suggestion for you. Maybe a one shot where Killian and Emma are neighbors who hate each other, but have plenty of sexual tension between them? Neighbors turned lovers stories are among my favorites. Anyway, just a suggestion. Love your work! I'm a HUGE fan!

A/N: Okay, this isn’t exactly what you asked for, Nonnie, because Killian doesn’t hate Emma, and whether she actually hates him or not is for you to decide, but I hope you enjoy. Also, this turned into a two shot instead of one so there will be another part, I just haven’t finished it yet. So much for hard limits of 3k words, ha!

Summary: “The game’s simple, really. In fact you, my love, don’t have to do a thing,” he ends with a click of his tongue, his silky accent sending shivers down her spine.

“Don’t call me that,” Emma warns him, but honestly her heart is thumping and her interest is highly piqued, “but please do go on.”

“It’s called Ten Minutes. You give me ten minutes to do anything I want to you—touching, teasing, kissing, biting, whatever I want. You so much as moan or make any sound of pleasure, you lose.”

Emma bites her lip at the idea of him doing all those things to her and feels heat creeping into her cheeks. “And if I win? What do I get out of this?”

“If you win, I will never bother you again.”

A grin spreads across her lips. “Okay, you totally made this game up, but sure, I’ll play along,” she decides confidently. She has no doubt she’ll win, so why not? Emma sits up and places the bottle on the floor, glancing over at him again. “You’re on, Jones.”

Rated: M

Also available on: AO3 FF

Part Two

❀❋ ❀❋ ❀❋ ❀❋ ❀❋ ❀❋ ❀❋ 

Ten Minutes 

Part One

Emma hates her neighbor. No, hate is really not the correct term. To say she detests him would be more accurate. He’s a walking innuendo full of cheesy lines and flirty quips, which gives her goosebumps. Not to mention the thing he does with his brow—the thing that makes her heart skip a beat and makes her skin hot, her breathing transitioning from smooth and rhythmic to sharp and ragged, but she really and truly hates it.

The first time she’d met him, she knew he was trouble.

Emma was carrying a box in her arms, a gym bag slung over one shoulder and a tote strapped to the other as she walked from the elevator to her apartment, panting and out of breath. The box was rather heavy and she feared her arms would give out on her at any second. She couldn’t wait to get into her apartment and allow her arms some utter relief from the torture she was putting them through. When she approached the door she knew the only thing left to do was unlock the door.

“Shit!” she grumbled in frustration, realizing the key to her apartment was in her jean pocket because that was where she’d it slid into when the landlord had handed it over.

Emma was trying to figure how the hell she was going to retrieve it without throwing everything on the floor when she heard a voice, that voice, which to this day, is her undoing.

“Need a hand, love?”

Emma almost dropped everything, startled by the smooth British accent that made her blood sizzle, goosebumps crawling over her skin, and she decided to get a peek the man speaking, but that turned out to be a reckless mistake. Just when she thought he sounded genuinely sincere, she saw the smoldering blue eyes, dark unruly hair and dirty smirk adding to the smug expression on his devastatingly gorgeous face. Yeah, he had the kind of face that stopped a person dead in their tracks, the face that made one rethink every other person in the world they thought was attractive and made a heart skip a beat, because this man was the epitome of handsome in every single way.

And then there was his clothes, which accented the body he was hiding underneath in a sinfully delicious manner, making her blood scream—he was wearing a black v-neck that clung to a rock hard stomach and snug blue, stone washed jeans.

For one second Emma forgot how heavy the box was, too busy gaping at him with her mouth hung open. She tried to compensate the pause in her stonewalled expression by nonchalantly looking away, but she knew the blush flooding her cheeks was a dead giveaway.

Oh, and if his looks weren’t enough to kill a woman in his path, there was the goddamn wag of his eyebrows as he added, “All the female neighbors say I’m very talented with my hands,” eliciting her automatic response to men who were overly cocky and screamed “douchebag” because she’d really had her fill of that type.

Emma rolled her eyes and clutched her things closer to her chest. “No thanks.” She’d rather just stand there holding everything all day than accept his offer.

He chuckled and approached her anyways, extending his stupid hand. “I only meant I always help my new neighbors move in. What can I carry?”

Emma huffed in frustration and tried to shift the box into one arm so she could free one of her hands, but the box was far too leaden for that. It would end up slipping and collapsing onto the floor. “I don’t need your help.”

He didn’t believe her. “You sure  love, because —”

“Yes, I’m sure. I don’t need anyone’s help,” Emma cut him off sharply. She tried to bend down to set the box on the floor, but her bags started sliding and she knew if she bent any further down they would fall from her shoulders. Which would not be good because there were some valuable items in them.

Luckily the guy put his hands up in surrender and offered a small smirk, unoffended. “I’ve done wonders with these hands and never disappoint, so it’s really your loss, not mine.” He finally walked away, but Emma was immediately regretting her decision because just as she tried shifting things around in her arms again, she knew everything was just going to come crashing down and would be broken and damaged like her own heart. She cringed at the thought, and maybe it was because she wanted to forget, or maybe it was the reminder of moving to Boston to start over which was what made her rethink her position on accepting his help. Emma closed her eyes briefly, sighing in defeat. “Wait.”

Killian turned around, lifting his brow again, and her stomach was doing somersaults as he threw her a questioning smirk. “Yes, love?”

Dammit.

She really hated the way her heart jumped when he used that word. “Not your love… but I could use your help,” Emma admitted, which in response, Killian lifted a hand to his ear as though he didn’t hear her.

“What was that?”

“I could use your help. Could you please unlock my door?” Emma asked resentfully. The box was getting extremely heavy, but she wasn’t going to hand him all of her things and let him inside her apartment. No, instead she was going to give him the key to it.

Real smart, Swan, she chided herself.

“Well you could have asked a little nicer, but I am a man of my word. I would love to help. Why don’t I just take the box? It looks rather heavy.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll set it down as soon as I get into my apartment. Just unlock the door please,” Emma asked impatiently. “The key’s in my left back pocket. Could you grab it?”

Killian’s grin grew lopsided, making her heart stutter as he stepped closer, his brow still raised like it was permanently stuck that way. “I would love nothing more than to grab it, but you might want to be more specific, because I might grab the wrong thing and you’re not really in a position to stop me or slap me in the face.”

“The key, moron,” she spat harshly. She was not in the mood for this. Not after days of packing, five hours of driving and now moving and unpacking. “Grab the key from my pocket. Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“No that’s alright, love.” Killian quickly came around her, slipping his hand into her pocket, but of course it was the wrong one, and Emma’s breath hitched, feeling his warm hand through her jeans as his fingers searched around the pocket.

She expelled an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. “The left, not the right.”

“Oops, my bad,” he chuckled, but his voice didn’t sound apologetic whatsoever as he removed his hand and switched to the other pocket. Emma’s breath caught in her throat yet again as his fingers curled against her butt when he grabbed the key. “I can think of much more enjoyable reasons I could be reaching into a woman’s pocket for a key… or something else…”

“Could you just shut up and unlock the damn door?” she barked impatiently.

“I could if you asked more nicely.”

Emma took a breath and spoke more softly this time, trying to calm herself. This man was really getting on her nerves. “Please unlock the door.”

“That’s better.” Killian finally slid his hand from her pocket, slipped the key into the lock and turned it, opening the door.

Emma hurried into the apartment and set the box on the coffee table with a relieved groan before setting her bags on the floor. She turned around, seeing Killian standing in the doorway holding up the key, so she stepped up to him and reached for it, but he pulled his hand away. “Ah, ah, perhaps gratitude is in order before I give it to you,” he said, pressing a finger to his lips in suggestion.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, ignoring his choice of words and the way his lips pouted when the pad of his finger made contact with it. “Can I have my key back now?”

“That’s all your key is worth to you?” he asked cockily, stepping closer and licking his lips.

Emma blushed and shook her head, thinking of other things he could be doing with those lips and tongue of his. “I don’t kiss strangers.” She held out her hand. “The key, please.”

Killian grinned and extended his free hand, taking hers to shake it. “Of course, the name’s Killian Jones.”

Emma scoffed, but didn’t pull away. She really had to give this guy kudos for his persistence. So, with hesitance, Emma gripped his hand firmer, hoping it hurt. “Emma Swan.”

“Well now that we’re not strangers anymore… how about that kiss?”

Emma blushed and opened her mouth, flicking her tongue around the inside and scanning his features. This guy was really asking for a good beatdown, but she couldn’t give him that kind of satisfaction, and she knew he wasn’t going to back down easily. She’d have to call the cops on his cocky ass first.

So, instead, she fisted her hands around his shirt, and in one swift motion, launched towards him, smashing her lips into his. Their mouths collided in a searing kiss, and the surprised groan that tore from his throat surged through her body, making her shiver all the way down to her toes as their mouths opened for one another in cadence.

Their tongues swiped fiercely at one another and connected, liquid heat rushing through her veins as he cupped the back of her head in his hands, eager fingers weaving through her golden locks. Emma felt like she was suffocating in his hold, but she didn’t want it to stop. His scruff was scraping against her skin, she craved it every time they parted against one another, and his lips were soft, but firmly pressed to hers and so delicious, she hated him for it.

Slanting their heads and drawing in the other’s breath until there was no air left in her lungs, she pressed him closer, her breasts hard against his chest. He responded with a growl, the deep rumble rising from his throat and tugging her belly. As sexy as it was—the kiss, the man on the other side of it, the gentle way he sucked her tongue and bit her bottom lip, the noises he made as she swallowed them all down—the sound made her stumble back to reality and literally, yanking her from the lust currently muddling her brain, and she ripped her mouth from his, gasping onto him for dear life.

He chased her lips, but she pulled away, taking in the way he looked—completely destroyed, his eyes hooded and dark as he blinked several times, his lips swollen as he tried to catch his breath.

“That was…”

“A one time thing.” Emma took advantage of his vulnerable state and grabbed her key from his grasp, pushing him backwards until he was in the hallway. He was completely devastated and bewildered when she grabbed the knob and slammed the door in his face.

After that, she had done everything she could to avoid him because every time she saw him, the memory of that day came flooding back, and all she wanted was to forget.

So when Emma had hurried into the elevator in her tight, low-cut red dress after chasing and catching a mark, looking forward to taking off her heels, slipping into a hot bath and reading a good book, she hadn’t expected her stupid neighbor to jump in before the doors slid shut. She also hadn’t expected him to be carrying a bottle of rum he bought from the liquor store and she hadn’t expected him to be even more handsome than she’d remembered. She also hadn’t expected the elevator to stop working and their phones to be out of service.

Fucking hell.

And now they’re sitting on the floor sharing the bottle of rum as she tries to convince Killian she hates him. Which she does.

“Then why did you kiss me if you hate me so much?”

“To get you off my back.”

Killian raises an eyebrow, a wicked smirk tainting his lips. God, he really needs to stop doing that. It makes her heart flutter too fucking much. “Love, if anything, kissing me would put youon your back.”

Emma rolls her eyes, mumbling under her breath,  “You wish.”

They haven’t had much to drink, but Emma’s feeling a buzz as she hands over the bottle of rum and glances at her annoying neighbor who takes another swig from it. At least the tiny bit of alcohol in her system makes him more tolerable, and if she’s being honest, his eyes seem to be even more blue, his smile much more attractive and the thing he does with his eyebrow is way more sultry than she’d prefer to admit.  

Killian gulps down the amber liquid and lowers the bottle, wetting those pretty pink lips of his.

Emma wishes she were the one awarded with that task, of feeling his lips and scruff against her skin (but it’s only the alcohol speaking) as she leans back against the wall, averting her gaze away from him.

“I’ve an idea.”

Lifting a brow, she turns her head to face him again. “Uh oh, this can’t be good… unless your idea is getting the elevator to work so we can part ways of course.”

Killian emits a suppressed laugh as he cranes his neck, languidly rolling the back of his head against the wall to look her in the eye. “And give you what we both know you don’t really want? I think not. I had quite a different plan, actually.”

“And what’s that?” Emma’s definitely not interested in anything he has brewing in that dirty mind of his. Not. at. all.

Killian’s lips widen into a dark smirk, his eyes glittering with a combination of mirth and devilry, and her breath does not catch in her throat, nor does her heart stutter. Okay, maybe a little. “I want to play a game. You claim I have no effect on you, you claim you hate me with every breath you take, so I say, you prove it.”

Okay, Emma kind of said that, and she kind of likes where this is going. “No problem, Jones. Tell me what I have to do,” she murmurs before grabbing the bottle of rum from his hand, their fingers making contact, and she takes a quick drink, the liquid burning as it slides down her throat.

Killian leans in, his lips way too close to her ear, and his hot breath hovering over her skin, making her shudder. “The game’s simple, really. In fact you, my love, don’t have to do a thing,” he ends with a click of his tongue, his silky accent sending shivers down her spine.

“Don’t call me that,” Emma warns him, but honestly her heart is thumping and her interest is highly piqued, “but please do go on.”

“It’s called Ten Minutes. You give me ten minutes to do anything I want to you—touching, teasing, kissing, biting, whatever I want. You so much as moan or make any sound of pleasure, you lose.”

Emma bites her lip at the idea of him doing all those things to her and feels heat creeping into her cheeks. “And if I win? What do I get out of this?”

“If you win, I will never bother you again.”

A grin spreads across her lips. “Okay, you totally made this game up, but sure, I’ll play along,” she decides confidently. She has no doubt she’ll win, so why not? Emma sits up and places the bottle on the floor, glancing over at him again. “You’re on, Jones.” She stands from the floor, ready to get this over with as she looks down at him, waiting for him.

For a second, Killian seems surprised, his pupils dilating with disbelief, and his cocky bravado suddenly vanquished. “Really? You’ll play along?”

Emma shrugs. “Sure, why not? I will definitely win this, so I’m not worried.”

Killian’s eyes light up in excitement, a mischief-laced smirk gracing his sinful-looking mouth as he stands up pulling out his phone to bring up the timer. “Before I start, shall we establish some rules?”

“Well, you said whatever you want. So rules kind of defeat the purpose, don’t you think?”

He grins and sets the timer. “I do love the way you think, Swan. Although, if it were up to me, we’d be in your room instead of this elevator and you’d be completely naked.”

Emma’s cheeks flush with pink and she bites her lips to suppress the imagery his words have formed. “Yeah, too bad we don’t have that option at the moment. Let’s just get this over with.”

“As you wish.” Killian presses start and sets the phone down before coming up behind her.

Emma loses a breath, her heart pounding when she feels Killian’s touch as he slides his hands down her arms. The path of his fingertips ignite her skin, she trembles and closes her eyes, preparing herself for anything. Why didn’t she accept his offer for setting rules again?

Killian swipes her hair over one shoulder, and his hands move to her shoulders, gently rubbing and kneading soothing circles into her skin.

“Really? You can do anything you want, and you go with a back massage?” she asks with a snort, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.

She can feel his breath on her skin when he leans in, whispering into her ear. “I’m just warming you up. You’re too tense, just relax.” His voice is soothing and sinful all at once and his hands actually feel amazing as he works on her shoulders and upper back,  but she doesn’t make a sound.

Emma draws in a shaky breath, letting it out very slowly as he gently works on the knots in her muscles.

“That’s a good lass,” he purrs, and this time his lips are on the shell of her ear, making her quiver underneath his touch.

Killian moves down her back, kneading and smoothing the tightened muscles, but he doesn’t stay there very long, because it’s probably been two minutes already. It’s only been two minutes and he’s barely touched her, but Emma’s already completely sober and she can feel her body crumbling to pieces underneath him, a tingling sensation all over, the blood rushing to her head, making her dizzy. She tries to think about other things, but as soon as Killian grabs her hips and presses her flush against his body, Emma gasps. She bites back a moan when his lips descend to her neck, exposed and flushed, as she attempts to steady her breathing. His mouth is warm and heavenly, and his breath is blazing hot, massaging her pulse point, his stubble scratching her skin, tongue darting out to lick her tender flesh.

You can do this, she tries to coax herself, but let’s face it, she’s a fragmented mess, her core is aching and her nipples are hard as a rock. She still remains confident… until he takes the bottom of her dress in his hands, scrunching up the fabric and pulling it to her hips, exposing her panty-covered nub. His hands find the apex of her thighs, palming her flesh and she has to bite her bottom lip wishing he were closer to her center, which at this point is dripping wet. At the same time, she hopes he doesn’t because then he would know the effect he has on her, if her trembling body, shallow breaths and the way she molds into him doesn’t already. Killian begins kissing the shell of her ear, his lips engaging her lobe with open-mouthed kisses. He pulls the tip of her ear with his teeth, and she can hear little groans under his breath as he massages her thighs and hips without touching the place she wants him the most.

“Fuck.” Emma’s breathing becomes ragged and loud, almost turning into a moan, and she knows she’s not going to last much longer. Killian smirks against her ear and she realizes what she’s just done. “That doesn’t count,” she attests. “It was a sound of disapproval.”  

“Whatever you say, love.” He doesn’t sound too concerned, and suddenly he’s spinning her around until her back is being pressed into the wall, Killian’s body on hers in an instant, the air escaping her lungs. He hoists her up and she squeals at the satisfying feeling of being trapped between him and the wall as she wraps her legs around his hips. His teeth are nibbling on the bare part of her shoulder, gently pulling the skin into his mouth and sucking hard, and her panties are completely drenched. Emma can no longer hold back when his erection is embedded into her center; an audible moan finally escaping her mouth. “Killian,” she breathes heavily. “Don’t stop.”

Killian lifts his head, looking into her eyes, and to her surprise, he’s not giving her a smug smirk or quirky brow; he appears to be utterly wrecked, his eyes clouded with lust. “I wasn’t planning on it.” He captures her lips and thrusts his hips into hers, their clothed centers rubbing together so deliciously, Emma thinks she might come right there.

Killian can sense she’s close and kisses her breathlessly, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and finding hers. She swallows the groan he offers when their tongues collide in a fiery, rapid duo and she grinds her hips against his, seeking more friction.

Without breaking the kiss, his hand moves from her waist and slides between her thighs, pushing her panties aside, his fingers slipping into her wet, aching heat. Emma’s cries are muffled by his mouth, but not restrained as she moves her hips, chasing more of his fingers. Killian releases her lips, smirking against her mouth, panting fiercely.

“You like when I touch you, don’t you, love?”

Emma whimpers when his movements stop.

“Tell me, Emma.”

“Fuck you,” she mutters, her breathing shaky as she bucks her hips, begging for him.

Killian growls, plunging his fingers into her heat, and she’s really starting to love that sound. “Tell me you love when I touch you.”

“Yes! I love when you touch me! I love the effect you have on me!” she screams, hoping he’ll relieve her of this blissful torture.

Thankfully, he gives her what she craves, and so much more, as he pumps three digits into her, his thumb flicking her clit. “That’s a good girl.”

She whimpers, her nectar erupting over his hand, fingers tightening around his shoulders. She’s never been a fan of foreplay; whenever she’s bedded a man, he’s never been talented enough to pleasure her with his hand alone. In fact, she’s never really been that satisfied in bed, but God , she loves being fucked by Killian’s fingers. And she hates that she loves it.

“You stupid asshole!”

“That’s it. Let this asshole make you come.”

Letting her head fall back, hitting the wall, she screams unabashedly when she jolts and explodes with ripples of pleasure because Jeezus. Fucking. Christ. That’s incredible.

Killian’s movements slow, letting her ride his fingers through the aftershocks as she slumps against the wall, fighting for air.

Somewhere during that time, when her mind is floating on a blissful cloud, the elevator comes to life and Killian hurries to right her clothing, letting her feet fall to the ground before he smooths out her dress, pressing it into place. They look at the timer and there’s still thirty seconds left. Killian grins, his eyebrow curving, and now his cockiness is shining through again, but she doesn’t care. Emma takes his hand and pulls him out of the elevator.

His face contorts in confusion. “Where are we going?”

“We’re raising the stakes,” she replies, a bit of devilry in her smile.

Killian arches a brow in curiosity as they reach her door. “Please do tell, love.”

Emma retrieves her keys from her purse, unlocking the door as she looks over at him. “You’ve won, obviously, so let’s see how many times you can make me come.” Emma’s smirk reeks of mischief as she leans in, whispering in his ear. “But instead of ten minutes… you get an hour.” She can hear him gasp as she slightly pulls away. “Unless you’re not up to the challenge of course.”

Killian stands there practically drooling as his tongue traces his bottom lip, excitement buzzing in those goddamn blue eyes. “Oh I’m up. I’m very up.”

Emma giggles and takes his hand, pulling him inside the apartment, never breaking their gaze. “Good.”

Read Part Two here

Tagging people who asked to be tagged and also a few more, so I’m hoping I didn’t miss anyone ❤ @rouhn @resident-of-storybrooke @onceuponaprincessworld @teamhook @laschatzi @superchovan @artistic-writer @kmomof4 @deathbycaptainswan @followbatb @captainswan-shipper88 @kiwistreetswan @bestshipcaptainswan @andiirivera @coliferoncer @jonirobinson64 @gingerchangeling @thislassishooked @hookswan25 @piratesbooty63fan @dmarien @aye-captn @ilovemesomekillianjones @mrsjones666 @searchingwardrobes @officerrogers @klar425 @myswan-myhappyending-mylove @capswantrue @takhisismb @innocenceneverfound @kymbersmith-90 @courtorderedcake @kday426 @its-about-bloody-time-cs @jackieorioncat @fandomnerd12 @branlovesouat

[chasholidays]

For the holiday prompts this year, I'd love it if you would write a Bellarke version of Killjoys! Perhaps something with Clarke as Dutch and the Blake siblings as the Jacobis brothers? Thank you!

“I slept with Clarke.”

Bellamy’s hands still on the engine he’s working on, but he doesn’t let himself turn. He can see his sister out of the corner of his eye, well enough to know what she’s doing: leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, haughty defiance in every inch of her stance. She’s being so casual about this he can practically feel the strain of it.

“Yeah?” he asks. “Good for you.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I assume you had a lot of chances to stop.”

She huffs. “I was trying to be nice.”

“I’m sure she really appreciated the charity sex.”

“Not to her. To you.”

“How is having sex with Clarke being nice to me?”

“Don’t play dumb, Bell.”

He stands and stretches; his own nonchalance is much more natural than his sister’s, easier. He’s better at this than she is. “I’m not playing dumb. You slept with Clarke, that’s your business and her business. As long as it doesn’t affect your work–”

“My work?”

“I know it won’t affect Clarke’s. Your personal affairs are yours, hers are hers. It doesn’t have anything to do with me. So if you sleep with her again, don’t tell me.”

Octavia’s jaw works. Maybe she was looking for a fight, and he’s not giving it to her. Maybe she wanted to hurt him with this.

“I just didn’t want it to be weird.”

“It’s not weird,” he says. “It’s not a good idea, but it’s not weird.”

“Not a good idea?”

“You work together, you live together. It’s not a good idea to fuck someone when you’ve got that kind of relationship with them. But you already did, so I hope it won’t make it awkward for you guys.”

“That’s it,” says Octavia, flat.

“If there’s a reaction you want from me, just tell me, and we can go from there. Otherwise, yeah. That’s it. There are only so many ways I can say it’s none of my business.”

“Fine,” she snaps. “Sorry I told you.”

“Yeah, I don’t give you updates on my sex life.” She clearly wants to argue, so he adds, “Go check the fuel manifest, will you? It’s been acting up.”

For a second, he thinks she might still argue, but then she turns and leaves.

Once he’s sure she’s gone, he puts his forehead against the wall. “No big deal,” he tells himself, and tries very hard to believe it.

*

“I slept with your sister.”

“I heard.”

She slides up on the kitchen counter next to him at the stove, and he doesn’t look at her. After five years as partners, they know each other about as well as two people can know each other. He trusts her more than he trusts anyone else in the entire universe, and he knows that whatever happened between her and Octavia has nothing to do with them.

There’s no reason for him to care at all.

“I’m sorry,” says Clarke.

“Was it bad?” he asks, and winces. “Never mind, don’t tell me. You don’t have to be sorry, okay? You’re both adults.”

“It was still a shitty thing to do.”

He considers this. “Okay, so why did you do it?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time. I don’t know. We were both in a shitty mood, I convinced myself it would make me feel better.”

“But it didn’t.”

“No. And it was really unfair to do to you.”

If it was Octavia saying that, he’d let it go. But this is Clarke. “Yeah? Why?”

“Because she’s your sister, and you’re my partner. I shouldn’t have done that because I should have known it might be–weird or hard or whatever. For you. And if it is, you still have to work with both of us, so–yeah. I’m sorry.”

“I’d rather it didn’t happen again,” he admits. “But you guys are adults who can make your own decisions. If you guys want to–”

“It was a one-time thing,” Clarke promises. “A mistake.”

“Okay,” he says. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Sure.” She shakes her shoulders, like she’s pulling herself out of the conversation. “So, do we have somewhere else to go? New job lined up? Any kind of distraction?”

He can’t help a smile; Clarke does get him. “Yeah. I bet we can find something.”

*

Bellamy and Clarke have been working together as killjoys for five years, and they’re good at it. They’re known for being good at it. They have a great reputation, and the people who hire them know they’ll get the job done.

Which is why it’s so fucking frustrating that Bellamy actually is off his game. Clarke and Octavia having fucked, once, with no prospect of it happening ever again shouldn’t affect him in the least. There’s no reason he should even remember it.

So of course, that’s all he can think about. When Clarke and Octavia talk about the job, he wonders how it happened. Did Clarke start it, or Octavia? Was Octavia trying to hurt him, or did Clarke just strike out at the bar one night? When did they realize it might be awkward with him?

Did Clarke think about stopping?

The thing is, he and Clarke aren’t together, and they never have been. But if Clarke ever said she wanted him, he’d agree without question, without hesitation. He’s not in love with her, but if she indicated he should be, he thinks it wouldn’t take long to fall.

It’s possible what he feels for Clarke is so close to love it’s not worth splitting hairs, but he still needs to. For his own peace of mind, he’s not in love with Clarke. And he doesn’t care that she slept with Octavia.

He just can’t stop thinking about the fact that it happened. Maybe it’s too close to her sleeping with him, or maybe it’s just that she knew it would be hard for him and did it anyway. It’s not usually hard for him when she sleeps with people; they both have active sex lives.

He’s monitoring Clarke and Octavia trying to fool some guys at a club into giving them information when he figures it out: he thinks they could work together, if they wanted to give it a real shot. Clarke hasn’t had a serious relationship in a while, and O needs someone who won’t let her get away with her usual shit.

If he’s all that’s stopping them, he should get the fuck over himself, and that’s what’s been bothering him, all this time. That’s the root of it.

Clarke, on the other hand, is pissed that said revelation meant he wasn’t paying enough attention to them and they ended up in a bar fight, which he has to admit is a valid thing to be pissed about, once he’s gotten his act together and rescued them.

“What’s with you?” she demands. “You nearly got us sold into slavery!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t.” Her eyes flash, and he huffs. “Look, I know. I fucked up. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“Except it’s been happening all week. This is the culmination of you fucking up on this job.”

“Thanks,” he says. “Appreciated.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not wrong.” He lets his jaw work, thinking it over. “Look, if you’re into Octavia, you should go for it.”

Clarke opens her mouth and then snaps it shut, staring at him like she’s trying to see into his brain. Whatever she’s seeing, she doesn’t look satisfied with it, as she probably shouldn’t be. “That’s what this is about? Me and your sister?”

“If you guys like each other, you shouldn’t let me get in the way. You don’t have to–”

“And it didn’t occur to you that I wouldn’t? Fuck, Bellamy, you’re not my keeper. You don’t get to tell me who I–”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have fucking told me about it!”

They’re staring at each other, both breathing hard, when Octavia says, “Am I interrupting?”

They both turn to stare at her. She was in the auto-doc, getting the gash on her forehead sewn up, and Bellamy had figured they’d have more time to bicker before she was done.

“Nope,” says Clarke. “Your brother is an idiot non-stop. You can’t interrupt that.”

“Oh good,” says Octavia. “This seems fine. Definitely nothing going on here. But whatever. I got a lead on the mark before everything went wrong, so you guys want it or what?”

“Want it,” says Clarke. “What’s the good news?”

Octavia’s smile is tight. “You’re not going to like it.”

*

“She could have done this,” Bellamy mutters.

Clarke’s pleasant expression doesn’t falter, but he knows her too well to miss her annoyance. “If you act like it’s this bad to be alone with me, this marriage thing isn’t going to last.”

“Next!” calls the clerk, before he can respond, and he gets his own smile in order as he follows Clarke to the counter. It’s not the first time they’ve had to pretend to be in a relationship for the job, it’s just the first time since the Octavia thing.

“Names?”

“I’m Rachel Dutch, this is my husband, John.”

“Ah, our late additions.”

“We’re so glad we could make it in,” she says, smooth. He always forgets how good she is at acting like a rich person.

It’s easy to forget she had a life before him, honestly. He forgets his life before her as much as he can, Octavia aside.

Clarke chats with the clerk easily, and the man barely even looks at their IDs when they flash them. Before he knows it, they’re up in the room, alone again.

He kills some time making sure there aren’t any listening devices he can find, but not much of it.

Maybe Clarke will just want to talk shop.

“I’m not interested in your sister,” she says, killing any hope he has of that.

“Okay. That’s fine. I just didn’t want you to—“ He shrugs. “It’s okay if you are, too. That’s all.”

For a second, it looks like she’s going to snap at him again. He’s bracing for the fight when she says, “You can be upset.”

“About what?”

“Me fucking Octavia. I’m upset about it.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“Because it wasn’t worth it. It was fine and I thought it would make me feel better, but it just made me feel worse.” She lets out a bitter little laugh. “I fucked your sister and all it taught me was how in love with you I am. And you won’t even look at me.”

His mouth is so dry his voice doesn’t come out the first time, and he has to swallow to make it work. “How in love with me you are,” he echoes.

“Of course you. You know you’re my favorite Blake, Bellamy.“ Her smile falters. "It doesn’t have to be anything. It’s not a big deal unless we make it one. But you’re making it a big deal right now, and I get it, but–we need to figure out how to keep working together. So–” She puts her hands up, a little helplessly. “That’s me. I fucked your sister, and immediately after I realized it was a huge mistake because I’m in love with you. It was a mistake, and it’s not happening again. I hope we can get past it.”

“That was the most emotional honesty we’ve had, uh, ever.”

“Well, emotional dishonesty wasn’t really working for me.” She clears her throat, gives her shoulders an awkward shake. “So, yeah. Let’s find the mark and–”

“No, fuck,” he says, quick. “I mean, yes, but–” He shakes his head with a laugh. “I love you too. It can wait until tomorrow. The job, I mean.” He gives her a small, shy smile. “We can lose a night, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Bellamy knows this moment from vids and books. This is the moment after the confession when they finally get to be together, when he gets to pull her close and kiss her the way he’s never let himself think about before. There’s nothing stopping him; they’re on the same page.

But he can’t take the final step.

Clarke is, at least, looking amused, and just about as unsure as he feels. And this is, well, Clarke.

He can do this. He gets to.

Suddenly, it’s easy. “So, uh–I’m going to kiss you.”

“Good,” she says, and he does.

*

“I slept with Clarke.”

Octavia gives him a supremely unimpressed look. “I can’t believe it took you this long. Seriously, five years and you only just realized you’re into her?”

“Not just,” he says. “I only just did something about it.”

“Yeah, well, I did it first.”

“She’s not an it and it’s not a competition.” He smirks. “Besides, she said all sleeping with you taught her was that she wanted me, so–”

Octavia rolls her eyes. “So, if it was a competition, you’d be winning.”

“Just saying,” he says.

“I can live with that.” She bites the corner of her mouth. “I’m happy for you. Really. Glad me sleeping with the girl you’re in love with didn’t totally ruin your life.”

“Nah,” he agrees. “Got the mark, got the girl. I think my life’s going to be fine.”