#i’m stupid and annoying and embarrassing and i can’t even work. worthless!

[prudereality]

ohhhhhhhhh my god

[softcursechoso]

Memoirs from a Gilded Cage: CH. 5

Attack on Titan x Reader

Black!Reader Levi x Reader Erwin x Reader

Masterlist

MDNI! // 18+ // NO SPOILERS ARE OFF LIMITS!

CH. 3 Warnings: None - Erwin being a sweetie pie thoooo

Words: 3.7k+

SEEING YOU

The Eternal Thread Shop : 12:58pm : Mitras

“This is so hopeless! I don’t understand why you put so much effort into this stupid hobby!” Tinsley yelled at the very poorly made scarf she was crafting. “It all falls apart at the seams!”

The two of you were in the backroom of your shop. The area where you got all of your tailoring done. Once again your sister was hounding you on teaching her how to sew. You tried telling her it’s not something that she’ll master in a day or two but she wouldn’t listen. She insisted Captain Smith needed a pair of gloves laced with her scent.

You sat behind your sewing table, and Tinsley sat on the other side with her back toward the door. She wore her favorite color blue once again. Square neckline, form fitting dress. Her gloves sat together on your desk as she worked away.

As for you, a dark brown sleeveless halter turtleneck dress with an open back. The dress fit your form down to your ankles. No one wore things like this, but that was a part of your experimentation as a seamstress. Seeing what worked and what didn’t. Although nothing could be seen, it still might be too sexy for the masses.

“Well, first of all it’s not a hobby. That’s probably where we differ. Second, I’ve been doing this for years.”

She exhaled forcefully, “Well, Captain Smith will be expecting something next time he arrives, and I can’t present him this. He’ll think I’m worthless.”

Your eyes landed on his jacket that made a home for itself on one of your mannequins. Guess now was a better time than any to at least test your work. 

You’d pull the coat off and throw it around your shoulders. It was so big and it just reminded you of the captain’s size… not that you could even forget. 

Tinsley’s eyes followed you as you left the room to head toward the front of the shop. “Don’t mess that up now.” She joked.

It was so annoying how she thought she was so clever sometimes. You weren’t doing anything but testing the mobility. Hell, if you did mess it up that just meant there were more improvements to be made. 

You adjusted the cuffs and rotated your shoulders as you tested out the coat. Maybe you should have tested this a while ago, but it is what it is. Seemed like things were in its place just like you wanted.

The bell above the shop door jingled, and you turned, your hands pausing mid adjustment. Entering the doorway was Captain Erwin Smith himself. His presence immediately commanding attention. Perfect timing. Now it just looked like you were playing around in his jacket.

“Good afternoon.” He greeted you kindly.

Your heart gave a small flutter and it was difficult to tell if it was because you were excited to see him again or because you were embarrassed from being caught in his coat. Lord!

You kept your expression composed. “It’s nice to see you again. Glad you found my shop just fine.”

His eyes flicked to the jacket you were wearing. He lingered, taking in the sight of you before speaking. “That wouldn’t happen to be mine, would it?” A rhetorical question of course.

Your cheeks warmed, but you managed a laugh. “I was just testing the mobility.” You’d slip the jacket off. “It’s not every day I get to work for a scout. Your gear requires a level of precision most clients don’t. I wasn’t making a mockery, I assure you.”

“I’m not offended.” A faint smile graced his lips. “It’s fitting.”

His eyes weren’t quite as slick as he probably thought they were. Who couldn’t look at you in that dress? It was hard not to look at. Respectful, yes, but he stole glances of you. 

Before you could respond, Tinsley’s voice rang out from the back. “Is that Captain Smith?” She emerged quickly, adjusting her dress so that her neckline plunged just a bit lower. Her smile was bright, almost too bright, as she approached. “What a surprise to see you here, Captain!”

Erwin offered her a polite nod. “Miss Greville.” He smiled contently before turning his attention back to you. “Shall we see how it feels?”

You stepped closer, holding up the jacket. “Absolutely. Let’s make sure it’s perfect.”

As he slipped his arms into the sleeves, you adjusted the collar and smoothed the fabric across his shoulders. The fit was impeccable, and he tested the range of motion by rolling his shoulders and lifting his arms.

“This is impressive. The flexibility here is significantly improved, and the reinforcement along the seams ensures durability without sacrificing comfort. Even the adjustments in the sleeves allow for better grip on the reins.” Erwin gives you feedback.

“It’s nothing.” You said modestly, though pride flickered in your chest.

“It’s not nothing.” Erwin countered, his voice slightly more stern. “This is exceptional.”

Your breath caught for a moment, but you wouldn’t let Erwin shake you. Not from one compliment.

“Keep saying nice things about me and I might start thinking you like me.” You suppressed a deep smirk.

“What a predicament that might be, hm?” He spoke in a way that was almost too straightforward. 

Tinsley, eager to insert herself into the moment, let out an awkward laugh. “I told her she should improve that arm thing. Didn’t I? Tell him.”

“You did?” You speak dryly, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course I did.” Her nervous laughter only increased as she turned her attention back to look at the man, “I did.”

Erwin’s polite nod to her comment was brief. His focus never wavered from you. “You mentioned tea last time. I haven’t forgotten.”

You tilted your head, teasing. “I didn’t think you’d actually take me up on it. Aren’t you a busy man? You sure you have time to spare?”

“Some things take priority.” He replied simply, his words carrying weight. “I will admit that I returned to your shop with the motive of more than just tea.”

From the tone of it you could tell he had a business proposition for you. Right. Man like him truly didn’t have time to spare as you pointed out. Of course there were ulterior motives.

Tinsley’s gaze darted between the two of you, her brows knitting in slight confusion as she tried to regain his attention. “I… I can help prepare the tea. I’m certain I could.”

“I appreciate it, Miss Greville.” Erwin said, his tone polite but dismissive. “I’m sure she has it under control.”

You suppressed a smirk and gestured for the man to follow you. “Please, come upstairs.”

It was where you lived of course. A bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom were all up there. Small, but beautiful and grand. With all of your father’s money at your fingertips you were able to decorate how you wanted.

You led him to the kitchen area and Tinsley followed behind. Your kitchen was rather plain. Oven, polished stone counters, and clean dark wood floors. There was a small dining table you gestured for him to sit at. 

It was big enough for four people. Too big for your taste, but your father insisted you get a table for four rather than two. That way when he visited he could sit with all of his children. Never happened though. 

You moved to prepare the tea, and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of Erwin’s gaze on you. It was steady, curious, and… admiring. It didn’t take too long for the water to boil. You’d take out three cups from your fine china set and pour the hot water over black tea leaves.

Tinsley pushed the conversation forward as she felt awkwardness in a space where there was comfortable silence. “So Captain Erwin, will you be making more trips to Mitras? We would love to host you every time.”

You walked over and served them each one of the cups from your beautiful tea set. You maintained a content face, though your sister's interjections were annoying you.

“Unfortunately I don’t have that luxury. Coming to the capital is a rarity.” Erwin replied.

You walked back to the counter to get your cup, and as you placed it down, something on your table caught Erwin’s eye. He gestured toward a book lying open on your table. Its pages were filled with vivid illustrations and handwritten annotations.

“May I?” He asked, reaching for the book. 

The image depicted a vast expanse of water, its waves rolling endlessly under an open sky. It was a book about landscapes that existed beyond the walls. Places that you would probably never get the chance to see, though it was nice to dream.

You nodded. “Of course.”

He flipped through a few pages, studying the intricate details.

Your smile softened. “Books like these about the world beyond the walls help me dream up new designs. I like to imagine what it would be like to live somewhere else. What would I dress like if I did, you know? I guess it sounds a bit silly when I say it out loud.”

His gaze lifted from the book to meet yours. “You have an extraordinary mind. To take something abstract and turn it into something so tangible… It’s a rare gift.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, but before you could respond, Tinsley’s voice chimed in again. “Oh, those books? They’re just nonsense. I don’t know why my sister keeps them around.”

Erwin’s expression didn’t change, but you could tell he didn’t agree. He closed the book gently and looked back at you. “Nonsense or not, they clearly serve a purpose.”

“Exactly.” You take a sip of your scorching tea.

Erwin leaned back, his attention still fully on you. “If the Scouts had someone with your talents, I imagine we could do great things. Have you ever considered putting your work to use for something beyond Mitras?”

Ah, there it is. That ulterior motive he said he had.

The air in your shop was filled with a quiet hum, the kind of stillness that carried a loaded sense of possibility. Erwin leaned back slightly in his chair as he awaited your answer. The tea cup rested lightly in his large hands. 

His calm demeanor seemed impenetrable, but there was a quiet intensity behind his composed expression. His sharp gaze held steady on you as you sat across from him, your fingers idly tracing the rim of your cup.

He was revisiting a question posed earlier and packaging it in a more digestible way. A way for you to think about things a little differently. If you were a seamstress for the scouts it could grant you at least the chance to present an idea about leaving Mitras instead of leaving for the hell of it.

Of course, before you could answer your sister was ahead of the curve, “Oh, father would never allow that. He’d die twice and never rest in peace if she left the capital. Parents aren’t supposed to have their favorites, I know, but father always made it clear who his was.”

“Must be nice.” Your fingers stilled on your cup. “Seeing other places, experiencing something different. I know I’ll never be allowed out of Mitras, but… sometimes I think…” You hesitated, your lashes lowering slightly as you gathered your thoughts. “I think about if humanity had survived past the walls- what might they dress like? It inspires my work…”

Your tone was vague, but the question hung heavy in the air. Erwin’s expression didn’t change, but you could feel the shift in his demeanor—an almost imperceptible sharpening of his focus. You realized you’d said too much.

“I’m so sorry.” You retract your statement, shaking your head and flashing a self-deprecating smile. “That was foolish of me.”

“It certainly was.” Tinsley frowned, “We are the last bit of humanity. We know that for a fact. There’s no evidence that suggests otherwise. So while I understand your posed fantasy, I must admit it's a bit silly.”

“Don’t apologize.” Erwin said firmly, his piercing gaze never leaving yours. His voice carried a weight of understanding that you hadn’t even realized. He wouldn’t elaborate, he couldn’t, but he knew that your minds aligned.

Your breath caught, his words settling into a place you hadn’t known was empty. Before you could respond, Tinsley’s voice cut through the moment once again.

“Oh, don’t mind her.” She forced a laugh. “She loves those books about fantasy worlds beyond the walls. Honestly, it’s nonsense, but she’s always been… imaginative, and we love that about her.”

Her words were meant to diminish you, but Erwin didn’t even glance her way. His gaze stayed locked on yours, a faint smirk curving his lips. “Imagination is the foundation of progress.”

Your sister's laughter faltered, and she awkwardly shifted the subject. “Well, what matters is that the jacket looks incredible, doesn’t it?”

“It does.” Erwin said, his tone neutral as he adjusted the collar slightly. Then, he looked back to you. “Would you consider modifying the rest of my uniform? The improvements you made here are impressive. I’m sure the rest could benefit from your touch.”

Your lips curved into a sly smile as you leaned forward just a touch, letting your voice drop to a velvety cadence. “Of course. I’d be happy to… though I imagine you’ll owe me a story or two in return. Fair trade, don’t you think?”

Before you could elaborate, Tinsley interrupted again. “Oh, by the way, Captain, did you know…” she started, but Erwin raised a hand gently, cutting her off.

“Miss Greville.” He spoke politely, “Could I trouble you for a favor?”

Her face lit up. “Yes! Absolutely! Anything! What do you need?”

“Parchment. There’s a letter I must write and I’m not too familiar with the shops in Mitras.”

“Oh! Yes, no problem. I will be right back. I know exactly where to fetch some.” She practically ran out of the shop, eager to please. 

You could hear her heels click down the stairs and toward the exit. As soon as the door shut behind her, you crossed your arms, smirking.

“You’re not slick, captain.” You laugh, your voice dripping with amusement.

“I wasn’t trying to be subtle.”

You laughed softly, but the moment sobered as he leaned a bit closer. “Truly now, have you ever considered traveling to Trost with the Scouts? Helping us with fittings and alterations? I’m sure Commander Shadis would be happy to house you and give you a workspace. You’d be well paid.” 

For a moment you thought about it. Truly letting your mind go free. Traveling from Mitras to Trost and having freedom that you’d only ever been able to have in your wildest dreams. It was right here in front of you… and yet…

Your smile faded slightly, and you looked down. “I can’t.” You spoke quietly.

“Why not?” He pressed, his tone gentle but curious.

Your hand lifted instinctively, fingers brushing over the skin of your arm. “Because… my father, the royal government… they want me here. I have to stay here.”

“Why?” Erwin asked, his voice softening.

You gritted your teeth before answering, your voice barely above a whisper. “Because my skin… is a disease. And they can’t afford for it to get out.”

It was hard for you to tell him the lie the royal government had fed you and the masses for so long. It felt like a dagger stabbed in the backs of those that came before you. A slap in the face to the people of the sunrise. 

His brows knit together in confusion, and he studied you intently. “Your skin is a disease?” He repeated, his tone skeptical.

You nodded, avoiding his gaze. “They believe so, yes.”

Erwin’s next words were so soft you almost missed them. “Even if it were, what would be so wrong in catching it?”

Your head snapped up, your wide eyes locking onto his. His expression was steady, sincere. No one had ever said something like that to you before. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, your throat tightening with emotion. Finally, you managed a small, shaky laugh.

“That might just be the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Then they’ve said far too little.” His tone was firm but kind. 

His gaze lingered on you, filled with an unspoken depth that left your heart racing. In that moment, you felt seen in a way you never had before, and those words would echo through your mind. 

If your skin were truly the disease they said it was then what would be so wrong in catching it? You felt like the wind got knocked out of you.

You honestly didn’t know how to respond. It was all so much. The only thing you could do was take another sip of tea. It was one thing to look at you and act as if there was nothing different. It was another to acknowledge said difference and accept it for what it was. 

“You said that you wanted me to fix the rest of your ensemble. I don’t think it’d be appropriate for me to take them as I did with your jacket, so why don’t I get you measured?”

“I won’t argue with that.”

The two of you stood up, and you’d lead the way. Back downstairs you went, turning the corner and heading into the back room. You’d gesture for him to take a step up on on a small platform you had. 

“Do you mind removing your jacket?” You asked in a calm tone as you readied your measuring tape, along with a pen and paper.

Erwin complied, unfastening his jacket before draping it over a nearby chair. As he stood before you in his crisp shirt, his broad shoulders and imposing frame seemed even more pronounced. You tried not to let your eyes linger too long, but there was no denying how striking he looked.

You stepped closer, the measuring tape in your hand. “Hold still.” You started, reaching up to stretch the tape across his shoulders. “You’ve got very broad shoulders.”

A soft chuckle escaped the man. “I’ve been told.”

“It’s a good thing if I hadn’t made myself clear.” You’d jot down the measurement before stepping around him to measure his back. “I could make you a very nice suit.”

“A suit?” He repeated, glancing down at you. “Not much use for one in the Scouts.”

You met his eyes, a playful glint in your own. “You never know when you might need one. Perhaps there’s someone you want to impress?”

Erwin’s lips curved into a faint smile. “There’s no one to impress.”

“No one?” You tilted your head as you slid the tape around his chest. “I find that hard to believe, Captain.”

“Hard to believe?” His eyebrow rose- his tone steady but his gaze lingering on you.

“I mean, what do I know?” You spoke softly, stepping back to record the measurement. “You just seem like the type who doesn’t need to impress but does it anyway.”

His silence spoke volumes, and you felt a faint warmth creeping into your cheeks. You turned your attention to measuring his arms, brushing against him briefly as you adjusted the tape. The proximity made your heart race, but you kept your expression composed.

“I’ll have your uniform ready within a week at the latest.” You stepped back to write in your notes before measuring his legs.

Erwin’s expression shifted slightly. “I won’t be in Mitras for a while. We’re set to return to the field soon.”

You hesitated, your fingers stilling over his inseams for a second. “I can send it with a courier.”

He shook his head. “I’d rather collect it in person.”

“Careful, Captain. You keep saying things like that, and I might start to think you want to see me.”

For a moment, his piercing blue eyes met yours, and the air between you felt charged. He didn’t deny it. Instead, his gaze softened just enough to reveal something unspoken.

The sound of the shop door opening pulled both of you from the moment. Tinsley’s cheerful voice filled the space as she returned from her errand. Erwin straightened, his composure slipping back into place.

“Captain! I got the parchment for you. It’s got a lovely blue lining. I’m not sure if this is what you wanted, but trust me, it’s beautiful.” She practically sang as she made her way back.

Erwin would receive the papers and give her a grateful nod, “Thank you Miss Greville, I appreciate it.”

“Oh yes, of course Captain Smith.” Tinsley bit her bottom lip, practically bouncing with excitement. 

“I should take my leave for now.” His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer. “Thank you for your time.”

You walked him to the door, holding it open for him to exit. “Be safe, Captain. I look forward to our next meeting.”

“Always.” He nodded, stepping out into the street. He glanced back once, his eyes meeting yours before he disappeared into the crowd.

As the door shut behind him, you attempted to keep a straight face. The heat in your cheeks hadn’t subsided, and you felt an inexplicable lightness in your chest. Whatever this was, it was something you weren’t ready to let go of just yet.

“Do you think he’ll write me on that parchment?” The brunette squealed, “I’ve gotta imagine. I mean why else would he ask me to get him some?”

“Tinsley, do you really think-” You paused, catching your words before they could finish.

“What? I know you’re thinking we’re total opposites, but I think we could make it work.” She giggled, “He’s quite dashing isn’t he? Do you think you could make me a more sultry dress for the next time he stops by?” 

You wanted to tell her so badly, really you did. Tinsley was a woman who always got what she wanted. There was never a lack of men trying to court her. This time was different. Erwin was not interested in her. It was such a foreign concept that her following actions seemed to be delusional. 

Maybe he wasn’t interested in you either, but you felt something there. At the very least there was a very nice friendship being built. Something magnetic that made you want to see one another again.

That reminded you- maybe it was time to go back underground. You were starting to miss your boys again.

[shorkbrian]

Never Ever

(Warnings - dub-con, non-con if you squint. NSFW, body insecurity)

“Stop fucking saying that!” Kiri paused, looking up from the magazine he was reading (men’s health, the one with big buff dudes on the cover, typical) to watch you storm out of the living room.

“Babe?”

You ignored him, stomping into the bedroom (you refused to call it “your” bedroom, or “our” bedroom, no matter how Kiri wishes you would).

Flopping down onto the big bed, you fluffed the covers out, quickly wiggling under them and pulling them up over your head. 

It was one of those moments when you didn’t feel like talking. You didn’t want to talk, you didn’t want to hear, to see or feel or do anything. You didn’t want to fucking exist.

You just wanted to sink into the bed and disappear, not only from the world, but from everyone’s minds.

Steady footfalls padded down the hall, into the bedroom. The bed shifted, and you heard Kirishima sigh.

“All I said was that you’re pretty. And you are. You’re beautiful. Gorgeous and breathtaking, and incredible, and stunning, and divine, and-”

“Shut up.”

Your growl made Kirishima chuckle, and it made your chest seize up. It’s so stupid, you’re so stupid. It wasn’t that big of a deal. 

“I don’t lie to you.”

That makes it worse. Huffing, you threw the covers off your head, met with the sight of Kirishima sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at you. He was so big, so muscled and broad, and he had such a nice body. He’d never understand.

“I know you’re not lying. You wouldn’t lie. But that’s the problem, you big oaf-” Kirishima grinned, and you wanted to punch him in the face. This wasn’t funny. “-You think everyone looks great, and you’d never put someone down for the way they look, even if they looked like a grotesque swamp monster.”

Trying not to cry was at the top of your priorities. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. Leave me alone.” If you said much more, crying would be inevitable. You shifted onto your side, facing away from the big redhead. With any luck, he’d get the message that you didn’t want him to be near you right now, and he would leave.

No such luck.

Kirishima grunted, and you felt the weight on the bed shift. He lifted up the covers, sliding in beside you, making no move to touch you. 

After a second of gathering his thoughts, Kiri spoke. “Well, I guess that’s kinda true. I think everyone has inherent worth, and their physical features don’t really contribute to it. Like, yeah, some people are really pretty, like Bakugou, but their looks don’t make them better than everyone else.”

A hand gently crept onto your waist, and you slapped it away quickly, scooting further away from the large man.

“But when I say you’re lovely, and attractive, and hot, and a whole-ass meal I mean it. And it’s not just about your body either, although like, you’re totally irresistible in that department.”

He tried again, a large hand clamping down on your waist. This time, when you angrily slapped at his hand, it stayed put.

“It’s just... You. You’re indescribable. I love you cause of the way you are.”

A warm, hulking body pressed against you, and you squirmed, but there was nowhere to go.

“I love you when you wake up in the morning, and you got like, those little eye booger things? Yeah. I love you when I come home and see your face, and when I get to hold you, and give you kisses-” A quick smooch was planted at the nape of your neck. “-and I love everything about you; all the good, all the bad. It’s no question.”

“Please don’t touch me.” You whispered. Such a wimp, you were crying now, throat tight, face hot. You felt so disgusting, and gross, and his words weren’t true, or if he believed them, then he was misguided. 

“Babe-”

“Please.”

“I’m not gonna do that.” His hold on you tightened, and he shuffled even closer, dwarfing your body with his own. “Tell me what’s going on, yeah? Let’s work this out.”

You stayed silent. It was too embarrassing, too trivial. He’d laugh at you, and you were a weak, pathetic little baby for even being bothered by this. Why couldn’t you just accept you were gross and ugly? Why did you have to cry a bout it?

“I’m not gonna leave until we talk, babe.” There was finality in his tone, and you could tell, he wasn’t going to budge.

Still, you couldn’t find the words. The feelings were just too much.

The two of you were still for a second, then Kirishima was shifting, turning onto his back, pulling you onto his chest and turning you so that your head rested on his chest. You’d struggle, but it’d be useless. Still, you wished he wouldn’t hold you.

You could hear his heartbeat like this. 

It was slow, steady, relaxing. You could probably fall asleep like this.

“I know you don’t feel good about how you look. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” 

When you didn’t answer, he sighed, before continuing. 

“I’m paying attention. I see how you try not to look in the mirror, or how you always try to sit so your legs don’t “look big” or whatever. How you always do that thing with your head and you hate looking down cause you'll get a lil double chin.”

An ugly sob tore from your throat. Oh god, he had noticed all of that? You felt horrible. Awful. You were so dumb and embarrassing. 

“But I love when you’re just you. Your body is good as it is. I know you don’t think so, but I know for a fact that your brain is lying to you. Yeah, maybe you don’t look like those people on tv, or in magazines, or wherever... but you don’t need to, y’know?”

A kiss was placed on the top of your head, and Kirishima’s hand was stroking along your back, soothingly rubbing.

“You deserve love no matter how you look.”

“But I don’t-” you sobbed into his chest, hands fisting in the soft material of his shirt. “-not looking like-like this. I hate myself so much, and I’m so ugly, and stupid, and I know it’s like, super dumb to get upset like this-”

“It’s not.” Kirishima chimed in.

“-but I can’t ever just... be good enough. I look horrible, and my personality sucks, and everything about me is wrong and bad. I am so disgusting, and worthless, and-”

“You aren’t.” Kiri growled, cutting you off. The man sat up, taking you with him. He pulled you directly in front of him, so he could grab you by the shoulders and look into your eyes. “I don’t care what you say otherwise. I’ll say it and I’ll keep saying it until your ears bleed and my tongue falls off, you’re worth the fucking world to me.”

He surged forward, mashing his lips against yours. 

You clawed at the arms holding you in place. You didn’t want him to kiss you, your lips were chapped and you were all gross from crying. But Kirishima wouldn’t let up, nipping at your bottom lip, hungrily kissing you.

When he finally did relent, you pulled away, a fresh wave of tears rolling down your face. 

“Please don’t. I’m repulsive and obnoxious, and-and annoying-” you hiccuped.

Kirishima grabbed your face, rubbing at your tears with his thumbs.

“No you aren’t. You’re sexy as hell, and you’re so smart, and you’re kind, and I could go on and on and on.” He leaned in, planted a kiss on the tip of your nose, following you even though you shied backwards from his touch. “But right now, I don’t think you’re gonna listen to what I say. Guess I just gotta show you, don’t I?”

Your eyes widened, and you tried to wiggle free of his grasp. “No-”

“Shh, c’mere.”

He clambered off the bed, pulling you to the edge as he did so. Once the man was standing, he started undressing, letting go of you in the process.

“Kiri, you shouldn’t do this.” You whined, scrubbing at your eyes with your hands “I don’t want to, I never do - I’m gross and you’re so fit and in-shape, please don’t make me do this.”

The redhead clambered back on the bed, now devoid of clothes. 

You were right - he looked like he could be a fitness model, all smooth muscles and gleaming skin. No matter how much you worked out, or watched your diet, you still couldn’t achieve the type of body you wanted, and it was so frustrating. Why was it so easy for him, yet unattainable for you? You’d do almost anything to get the body you desired.

“Hey, listen to me.” Kirishima shuffled closer, grabbing your face with both hands, forcing you to look at him with puffy eyes. “You aren’t gross. You aren’t ugly, or fat, or any of those things that you tell yourself.”

“But I am!” Your voice was high, distressed, and you felt like a whiny little kid. When would you ever stop embarrassing yourself?

Kirishima shook his head, leaning in to give you a quick peck on the lips, before his hands moved to your clothes.

“No, don’t-”

He fixed you with a solemn glare, one of his hands catching your own when you tried to push at him, wrenching them into his chest, right over his heart.

“Feel that?” it was beating like a drum, heavy and quick. “I don’t care what I have to do to make you realize how worthy you are.”

The man pulled off your shirt, letting it tangle around your wrists where he was holding them. You had neglected a bra today, expecting to just do a few chores around the house today, so your breasts were bared to Kirishima’s hungry gaze.

With a shattered cry, you twisted to the side, trying to wiggle away from the big man, but he easily pulled you back into place.

“Look at you, you’re delicious.” His eyes were bright, a grin spreading across his face as he breathed down at you, gazing at your naked upper half.

“Kirishima, please stop. I don’t want to do this! Stop it!” You cried, feeling more tears spring to your eyes.

“Nope, not gonna happen.”

Your shorts were quickly pulled off your legs, along with your underwear, leaving you bare and vulnerable. You sobbed. You could only imagine what you looked like, held under Kirishima, unattractive and flabby underneath the muscular man.

Without a word, he dipped down to mouth at your collarbone, before planting hot kisses along your skin as he traveled further to your breasts. He finally let go of your wrists, which immediately came to push at his shoulders, but the large man wouldn’t budge.

“You’re so gorgeous, and hot. Look at how nice your tits are, all warm and soft.” To prove his point, he grabbed at the mounds, massaging them gently with his large palms as he kissed in-between them.

You writhed. “Hey, don’t-don’t! Stop doing th-at.” your skin was probably dry and riddled with odd textures - acne in some area, hair in others. How could Kirishima find that attractive?

He kept kissing all over your chest as you squirmed helplessly, still gently groping at your breasts with gentleness. His hands plucked at your nipples, softly squeezing your flesh, sucking hickies that made your breath hitch and your body jolt.

“God, you’re so perfect. Just right for me, just what I always need.”

His hands abandoned your tits, smoothing down your sides. “You feel amazing, just getting to touch you is so nice. You’re soft-” a kiss to your cheek “-and your skin gets all flushed-” a kiss to your collarbone “-and you look like a goddess.”

Hands skimmed over your stomach, and you burst into a fresh bout of tears, pushing more insistently at Kirishima’s shoulders. The man was feeling all over you, all of your lumpy bits, all of the places you hated and tried to hide and not think about. 

He pulled away from you, gazing down at you with softness in his eyes, hands coming to grip your thighs and pull you closer to where he was sitting on his knees.

“Y’know babe, if I was more patient I’d eat you out right now, always taste so fucking good. But-” moving to stroke at your folds with two fingers, Kirishima grinned at you wolfishly, baring his sharp teeth. “-You’ve got me all kinds of worked up, I can’t wait that long.”

You could feel his length pressing against the inside of your thigh, would be able to see it if you looked down. But then your chin would fold, and Kirishima would be able to see all the fat there, how the skin bunched and how you looked awful. No matter what he said, you knew the truth - you were disgusting.

A finger roughly worked it’s way inside of you, and you gasped at the sudden stretch, not nearly wet enough for it to be comfortable.

“Shit-” Kirishima murmured, before slowly taking out his digit. He leaned down spat directly onto your hole, smirked as he watched it clench at the sudden warmth of the liquid.

Then he was pushing his finger inside again, it’s way smoothed by his saliva. 

“Kiri... Please stoppp. I feel bad, ‘m not feeling good, it’s-”

“Shhhh, I’ll make you feel good in a second. Just gotta get my girl ready for me.”

You weren’t talking about the physical discomfort (though with the way he was rubbing over your walls, quick and determined, was making you shake), you were talking about your mental state.

You felt like trash; useless, foul-smelling, rotten garbage. How could Kirishima even want you? Why did he even want you? There was no way he found you attractive, he was just trying to make you feel better, trying to be kind and supportive, because that’s just the kind of person he was. 

Another finger entered you, joining the first in quickly stretching you. A third was added after a while, then a fourth, Kirishima kissing at the flesh of your torso throughout the entire process.

He was already breathing heavily, panting in between each kiss. You could feel his hips occasionally stutter towards you, as if the man couldn’t stop himself from moving, from rutting his cock against the inside of your thigh as he prepared you to take him.

“Mm, alright, ready baby?”

The fat head of his cock was lined up against your entrance as soon as his fingers pulled free, slick with your juices. Kirishima quickly stroked his hand over his cock, groaning lowly, before grabbing under the head, holding it steadily against your pussy.

“Gonna make you feel so good, want you to feel how much I love you.”

It didn’t matter how much you shook your head, or uttered blubbered “No!”’s, Kirishima was determined. 

He slowly sheathed himself into your tight heat, almost whimpering as your velvety walls enveloped his cock. The man has his eyes closed, biting his lips as he pressed further and further, before his hips jumped forward unconsciously, seating himself balls-deep into your cunt.

“Fuckkkk, baby, you feel so good, how are you even real?”

You could only gasp, filled to the brim with cock, unable to think past the thickness buried deep and pressing into all the right spots. 

Kirishima pulled out a few inches, but quickly sank forward again, sighing in pleasure as your pussy gripped his bare cock, making it wet and slick and creamy with all your juices. 

He brought his hand over your pelvis, pressing down on your mons with his palm, thumb hanging down to rub delicately at your clit, making you arch.

“Ohhh shit, what a good girl, feeling good?”

His question went unanswered as you moaned involuntarily, the sensations that the man was creating becoming too much and entirely not enough at the same time. 

“Love you so much, you’re so beautiful. My girl has the hottest body, the prettiest voice, let it out for me yeah?”

You shook your head, quickly clamping your hands over your mouth, whimpering as he pulled out, before fluidly thrusting back in. He hit so deep, past where your own fingers could reach, right in all the spots that felt the best.

“Awh, baby I wanna hear you.” He whined, still rubbing at your clit.

Your stomach was tight, pleasure lancing through your gut and up into your chest. You muffled your sounds with your hands, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to look at Kirishima, see his look of adoration as he ravished your body.

The man seemed fine with that, focusing on moving his body against yours, pulling you into his lap on each thrust. The way your hips were angled high made it easy for the man to fall into a comfortable rhythm, bottoming out before pulling back, the head of his dick scraping deliciously against your walls.

“You make me so happy, I don’t ever wanna be away from you. You’re the best thing in my life, I’m so glad I get to have you.” Kirishima groaned out, sweaty body pressing against yours as he leaned forward to embrace you in a hug. 

The man was always so touchy, wanting to hold hands, playing with your hair whenever he could, pulling your shirt aside to kiss at your shoulders whenever you let him.

He turned his head to kiss your cheek, before quickly becoming unsatisfied, pushing himself up so he could pull your hands away from your mouth.

“Wanna kiss my pretty girl.” 

And he did, almost melting against your body as his lips met yours. You let him do what he wished, fervently making out with you.

Again, his hand found it’s way to your slit, fingers rubbing against your puffy lips. When they made contact with your clit, you jolted, hot pleasure climbing higher and higher.

“Kiri, Kiri, gonna-gonna cum, gonna cum.”

“Oh fuck, me too, you’re so fucking tight, your sloppy little pussy keeps pulling me in, fuck.”

You whined, pulling your head back from Kirishima to breathe, only for the man to start kissing at your neck, hot and wet.

The pleasure in your stomach crested, throbbing through your core as you came, clutching at Kirishima. The man moaned against your neck, hips working into you in little circles as he chased after his own pleasure. Your vision blacked out momentarily as he kept fucking into you, prolonging your pleasurable high.

You were still riding the last waves of your orgasm when the man pulled out, grunting as he stripped his cock over your stomach, grunting. “I love you, fuck, I love you so much.”

He came on your stomach, moaning brokenly as his hand worked over his cock, eventually slowing down, before stopping completely. The man had his eyes closed, barely cracking one open so he could flop down beside you without hitting you.

The sounds of the two of you breathing filled the space, panting together. 

Kirishima turned on his side, facing you as he smiled. “That felt amazing. I’m so lucky that you’re mine.”

You ignored him the best you could, the feelings of insecurity creeping back in. 

A hand suddenly appeared on your stomach, running through the mess of Kirishima’s cooling cum, rubbing it into your skin.

“Kirishima, ew.” You groaned, head flopping back onto the mattress. You were too tired to push him away, too worn out to dispute his praises and adulation.

You suppose that had been his plan from the beginning.

“Sorry, it’s just - you look so sexy like this, my cum all over you. It’s like I’m marking my territory.” You frowned at the mans’s goofy grin, but just closed your eyes instead of saying anything.

“Hey-” Kiri shuffled closer, his clean hand coming to cup your chin and pull your face to his. Red eyes stared into your own, wide and truthful. “I love you. That’s never going to change.”

Your gaze flickered to the side, and Kirishima took ash opportunity to press your foreheads together, nose nudging against your cheek.

“Never ever.”

[positivityforlesbians]

I have this friend who dropped off the face of the earth. She told me she’s struggling and self isolating. Whenever I reach out she ignores me now. I stopped checking up on her. It’s been six months. I don’t even know what to think. I feel like i’m over it but I worry she is not okay and I love her even if I don’t want to. The last time we really talked she said she thinks about reaching out all the time but has conversations with me in her head instead. That I should call her and basically not give up on her. Now we don’t talk at all. She wont answer if I call her. She ignores my texts. I’m embarrassed and I feel annoying and stupid. There’s so much I never got to say to her. I can’t bare to never say it but if I message her and she doesn’t answer I’ll throw up. I don’t even know what to say at this point. If she wanted to she would right?

Not related to lesbianism but I will answer anyway this time.

It's certain she's in a bad place mentally speaking. I know it's frustrating for you but you have nothing to be embarrassed about, you trying to reach out was a good thing, you tried. You never knows what's actually going on in her brain so I think it's not stupid if you continue trying. Is there a way you can reach out to her in a different way ? Like sending her a letter ? Tell her everything you want to say to her, or keep a little to yourself if you wouldn't bare not having an answer after telling her that, but try to be as open as possible and tell her you're scared about her, that you don't want to lose her.

I know for sure that in such a state, which is probably depression, you feel lost and like you're worth nothing so you purposely put distance between yourself and others, so reassurance is the best thing you can offer her. You care about your friendship, you miss her, etc. Depression can be that deep that you can want to reach out to a friend (you) but not do it because you feel worthless, a burden, all kinds of negative adjectives that work so effectively on one's mine that it poisons your sense of judgement and freezes you. It's like you're an empty shell but you can still see life going on around you and it makes you feel even more miserable. A friend showing up again and again is like intermittently seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. Again, you're not annoying or stupid, you're trying to be a good friend, you care enough that you've send this message to find help. See if you can catch her attention by sending your message in a different way, send her a letter, maybe it can make a difference as this would show her you made that effort for her. Xx

[kingreywrites]

The Smolder Tragedy

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 3314

Summary: A very concussed and very out of it Eugene Fitzherbert comes to a devastating conclusion about his smolder. His kidnappers are not all that sympathetic about it.

Note: that title is so corny god asgfdgh anyway, this is a self-indulgent hurt/comfort fic, but there’s quite a bit of hurt!! So be warned that there is talk of a concussion, some violence (because he’s kidnapped), and also a mention of spiked water (he’s mostly fine though but I’d rather be safe)

Read on ao3

Now that he was thinking about it, Eugene realised that the smolder never... truly worked on anyone. Well, when he was younger, adults tended to go easier on him if he made a somewhat cute face at them, and in the following years, doing it never hurt his chances with the people who were already attracted to him. But neither of these facts actually attested of the efficiency of the smolder in itself, and if Rapunzel was left particularly unimpressed, Eugene wasn't sure anyone had ever really swooned because of it.

Oh, the demon Rapunzel from the weird mirror dimension did swoon that one time. Was that a good sign, or a bad one?

"The hell are you talking about?" someone growled, entering the room loudly and making Eugene's headache worse, if that was even possible.

That guy was one of the reasons Eugene was thinking about his smolder's actual abilities - or lack thereof. Because see, if the smolder worked, which he was now doubting, he could simply use it on this guy, and that would make him swoon, and Eugene would use the distraction to get free from the chair he was tied on, and get out of here quickly. But Eugene didn't think the smolder would work. Not because Mr Beetle here (lovingly named after the bug which landed on his head during Eugene's kidnapping - he'll get to that part later) was immune to his charms, but because maybe... perhaps... the smolder had never been effective?

This was devastating news. Truth really was the heaviest burden a man could bear.

Beetle grabbed his hair and pulled his head back roughly, making Eugene see stars and forget, for a moment, the whole smolder dilemma. But then he was being yelled at things he could barely understand between the buzzing in his ears and the concussion he got earlier - without forgetting the stuff they made him drink that made his head all fuzzy and his thoughts completely muddled - and he couldn't help but wonder if he could smolder his way out of here. That'd be nice. It had been what, four days since they got their hands on him? Five? Eugene was bored now.

"If-," he coughed, feeling like the hoarse voice he could hear wasn't his own, "if I tried to seduce you, would you break my nose?"

Going by the way his head was slammed back again, Eugene took it as a yes. That was a shame, truly. He knew that his life was different today, that he had changed for the better and was now the Captain of Corona's Guard, so really, he didn't need the smolder - but he loved that silly little trick. It felt like discovering that Santa wasn't real all over again. Not that he ever believed in Santa, since the matrons didn't see fit to talk about that particular tradition when everyone knew that orphans wouldn't get Christmas gifts, but that's what Eugene thought it must feel like.

His head hurt a lot.

A big hand tipped his chin up, since he had been looking at his pants and the stains on them (would he be able to get the blood out?), and he realised that Beetle was trying to make him drink that weird stuff again. The one that made his head feel like it was floating above his shoulders, and made him feel warm in the most disgustingly sweaty way. Eugene hated it. So he kept his lips as tightly closed as he could, and trashed in the chair to make it more difficult on that goon.

This was becoming ridiculous. The fact that he even got kidnapped already hurt enough as it was - they got the best of him after a very exhausting day, and pointed a crossbow at his heart before hitting him so hard over the head he was pretty sure he stayed unconscious for a few hours straight... which Rapunzel would probably think was pretty concerning. For his part, he was more annoyed about the constant headache than anything. Mostly, he couldn't believe he got kidnapped.

He didn't even remember if anyone had seen him, and hoped no one had gotten hurt during the whole ordeal. In any case, he was pretty embarrassed and, to add insult to injury, they didn't even care about him. He was Captain of the Guard for god's sake, you'd think that would make him interesting enough, but no, they only wanted him to pressure the royal family.

Being used as leverage sucked. Thinking that they might hurt the people he loved by using him made him feel sick, even more than their weird drugged water did.

"If you keep being difficult you're gonna regret it," Beetle threatened, and Eugene would have told him that he was the one who would regret stuff soon, if he hadn't been also preoccupied with keeping his mouth shut. Which, ironically, was something people had asked of him a lot in his life, and that he had always refused to do - until someone tried to force him to keep it open. He never did like authority, after all. The matrons would always tell him that he was a troublemaker of the worst kind, and that someday, life would get back at him for the chaos he created. They were yet to be proved right about that one but-

Beetle punched him in the gut, making Eugene gasp and cough in pain, before his nose was pinched and he was forced to swallow the water, nearly choking on it.

"Rude," he noted weakly when it was over, his throat on fire as he heaved. Already, he could feel the fuzziness coming back with a vengeance, his vision blurring at the edges because of whatever mysterious compound they forced him to drink. He'd have to ask Varian about it. The kid would know, certainly, or would at least be excited to research it, and it was fun when Varian was excited. He still had that weird maniacal villain vibe mixed with his genuine and adorable love for sciency things, and that was an interesting combination to see in action.

The door to Eugene's cell was slammed shut and, in the dim light, he understood that he was alone once again. Beetle didn't even say goodbye. It was okay, though, because Eugene didn't think he could have answered without puking - the entire world was swimming in front of his eyes. Closing them only made everything even more unsteady, and now Eugene wondered if he could even try to do a good smolder in that state. He couldn’t feel his face.

His eyes were heavy, and it didn't take long before he passed out again.

------

Next time Eugene woke up, it was to the sound of yelling outside the door of his cell, loud and definitely not the kind of voices he wanted to hear. Maybe it was stupid, but each time he opened his eyes, he hoped to find Rapunzel here, ready to rescue him, but it hadn't happened… yet.

Trying to raise his head only awakened the ache in his neck and back from the terrible position he was in - he hated sleeping on chairs. Being homeless for a good part of his life had taught him that the bare ground was always preferable, but he didn't think he could argue about his sleeping conditions with his kidnappers. He pulled on the rope that was keeping his hands tied behind his back, and noticed that it was giving a little. If he could just-

"Your plan better work!" someone yelled, startling him - but it was still coming from behind the door. "You don't realise what we're risking with this!"

"Of course it'll work! Do you really think that the son-in-law of the King and the husband of the Princess is worthless? They're gonna listen to us because they'll want him back."

That was… touching, in a strange way. Not that Eugene enjoyed being taken for ransom, or whatever it was they wanted to do, but it did remind him that he had a family, and that they would fight to get him back. Rapunzel was probably worried out of her mind, right now, and this was enough to spur him into action again, because he didn't want to simply wait here for rescue like an idiot.

"What if they attack us?" the scared guy yelled again, as Eugene pulled on his bounds again, ignoring the sharp sting of the rope cutting into his skin, and his ever-present nausea. "What if- what if instead of paying, the guards find us and destroy our base?"

In Eugene's opinion, the guards weren't really the threat here - this guy didn't want to know what Rapunzel would do to him if she found them. The thought was enough to make him chuckle, which in turn made him realise that the weird water might still be having an effect on him, because he hadn't managed to keep himself quiet. Not great.

His fingers fumbled with the knot he could feel, trying to get it to loosen even more. Unfortunately, the door of his cell -more like a closet than a cell to be honest- was thrown open, and he had to act as innocent as possible.

Going by the glare he received, he was doing a poor job of it.

The new guy (he'd call him Martin, because he had a Martin face) seemed to enjoy kicking him around a bit more. The only silver lining was that he seemed intent on kicking his ribs, and consequently left his poor head alone. Still not the best, but Eugene would take it. He didn't have much choice anyway, since Martin decided to greet him with his fists today.

"Feeling better yet?" Eugene breathed when he thought it was over. He earned another kick for the trouble.

"You better hope they pay what we ask of them," Martin snarled, way too close for Eugene's comfort. "Because I can't say that I won't enjoy killing you if it comes to that."

"Aww, I'm touched, truly," was all Eugene could say, before a hand ended up around his throat, and he couldn't talk anymore. He vaguely heard Martin threatening him again, but honestly, the guy should realise that it was difficult to be afraid of him when Eugene was barely conscious enough to understand him.

It went down the same way as it always did, these days. Eugene was forced to drink that damned drugged water -it was getting more disgusting each time-, and he couldn't breathe, and the Martin guy said something about hurting Rapunzel, and if you think you're gonna be able to touch her you've got another thing coming you assho-

And Eugene lost consciousness. Again.

------

When he woke up again, Eugene couldn’t breathe. The world was loud, too loud, his vision was swimming and the room spinning under him, and he couldn't- it was as if his breaths were getting stuck in his ribcage, and was he still being choked, what-

"Hey, Eugene, it's okay, look at me-"

Dragging in air painfully, he opened his eyes to a slit, meeting the frantic and oh so green ones of- Rapunzel?

"Come on, it's okay, breathe with me," she said, voice low, and he listened to her - how could he not? For a moment, when it felt like he was still dangerously tethering on the edge of choking, he wondered if she was even real, or if it was all a dream conjured by the lack of oxygen. Then, she brushed his hair back, her palm warm and tangible on his cheek, and it felt real enough that he melted into it.

"That's it," she encouraged him gently, one hand resting lightly on his heaving chest. "That's it, breathe. I won't let them hurt you anymore."

He couldn't hold back a nervous chuckle at that, but going by the pinch of her eyebrows, that wasn't the right reaction. After a few seconds, when he finally felt like his lungs weren't about to explode, he tried to smile at her. It only seemed to worry her more.

Her fingers trailed along his jaw, tracing what he knew were dark bruises on his skin. She went higher, to his hair, and touched something that immediately made him flinch.

"Sorry, sorry, I-" she exclaimed quickly, pushing his hair away again. "I'm gonna get you out of here."

His perceptions were still blurred, as if he was underwater, but he could hear now the sounds of fighting and chaos coming from behind the door. Rescue. He was being rescued - Rapunzel was rescuing him. He knew she would do it.

"Well, I wish I had been a little quicker," Rapunzel said, her voice wobbly.

"You're just in time Sunshine," he whispered, his throat raw.

"Am I?"

He didn't like the self-deprecation in her tone, nor the worry that didn't seem able to leave her features, and he felt guilty for being the cause of it. If he hadn't been kidnapped-

"Eugene? Eugene, stay with me," Rapunzel asked, with an urgency that made him realise he had closed his eyes. Huh. He was dizzy. "I know, I'm sorry, just- I'm gonna free you, okay?"

He blinked, trying to look at her so she would stop sounding so… scared. She was fumbling with the ropes holding his left hand in place. There was the sound of an explosion outside, right as she got rid of the first one, and she threw an indecipherable look at the door.

He wanted… He wanted her to stop looking so sad. He didn't like it when she was sad. Could he do something about it? Well-

"The smolder doesn't work," he mumbled dejectedly. Rapunzel was taking care of his bound legs now, though he didn't remember her freeing his right hand. He moved it slowly, feeling as if the limb wasn't his own, and wondered how much the weird water was still affecting him.

"Weird water?" Rapunzel repeated. He wasn't sure how to not voice all his thoughts aloud, apparently, which he's sure his dad would find amusing.

Since Rapunzel was still looking at him, Eugene took a few seconds to remember her question and simply hummed, head swimming. That seemed to make her even more unhappy, and he could get disliking the water, but he didn't like when Rapunzel was unhappy. "Do you... think the smolder ever, uh... worked?" he asked, trying to distract her.

"I'm sure it did," she answered, in the same gentle tone she used on people she disagreed with.

"It- it never worked on you, though. And it wouldn't have worked on Beetle, or- or- Martin," he pressed. His tongue was heavy in his mouth, and now his feet were free but he really didn't have the energy to try and get up. He didn't want to puke on Rapunzel, too.

She didn't reply. Instead, she looped one of his arms around her neck, and braced her hand against his ribs. He winced, and she apologised quietly, but before he could try to argue that he didn't think he could do it, she made him stand up swiftly, grip tightening around him when his knees inevitably buckled. He closed his eyes tightly, ears ringing painfully and stomach churning, and he was grateful that he could count on Rapunzel to not let him fall on his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she kept repeating, adjusting his weight to stop him from sliding down further. "I know it's hard, but I'll get you to safety, I promise, just hang on-"

Eugene could guess that he really didn't look great if she was that desperate to comfort him. To be fair, he didn't feel great either. He could barely follow her words, couldn't stand up on his own, and had to focus all his energy into not being sick as Rapunzel helped him walk. It clearly wasn't his best day.

He tried to regain his footing, so she didn't have to drag him with her, but his legs were shaky and he nearly fell again. He thought Rapunzel was going to toss him over her shoulder and run, which he knew she could do, and he also knew his body wouldn't appreciate as much as usual given his current dizziness, but that was exactly the moment Maximus arrived to the rescue. Or maybe they arrived to Maximus? There were more people around them, more noises and voices too, and Eugene couldn’t follow anything of what was happening. He thought he heard Lance, and felt another hand holding him up, but all he could focus on was Rapunzel being here, and Rapunzel talking to him, and calling his name, his one beacon of light when the pain in his head grew to be too much to bear.

He felt her hand in his, and realised that he had been laid down somewhere. He wanted to reassure her, but couldn’t do much more but feebly squeeze her fingers, hoping she would understand. And then, because he was tired and in pain, and because he knew that, now that she was here, he was going to be okay, Eugene passed out.

------

“You are evil,” Eugene moaned, hiding his face under his pillow while Rapunzel laughed innocently.

"What, I'm trying to help!" she smiled, coming to sit next to him on the bed. He felt the mattress dip under her weight, and took a peek at her, groaning again when he saw how smug she seemed. "I even made flyers and everything!"

She didn't seem to care about the annoyed look he threw her way, instead putting a bunch of papers in his hands. On it, his face, lips pursued and eyebrows raised, with the text asking the people of Corona to come test his “infamous smolder” by themselves. At this moment, Eugene would have preferred to have his old wanted posters thrown in his face - it would be way less embarrassing than… this.

“Come on Eugene, what better way to know for certain than to experiment? You seemed really bummed out about your smolder!”

“I wasn’t in my right mind,” he grumbled. “You can’t hold me accountable for my concussed ramblings!”

Her expression softened at that, and her hand came to caress his cheek, gently trailing up to the bandages still around his wound. Her touch was soft enough to not sting, and he couldn’t keep up his facade of annoyance when it was so obvious she simply wanted to make him laugh.

“I love you, you know?” he breathed, and she had a second to look pleasantly surprised before she leant down and kissed him.

“I love you too, Eugene,” she smiled fondly.

“You’re the only person I care to seduce anyway,” he laughed. “I guess I’ll have to live with the smolder being ineffective.”

“If that helps,” she murmured, climbing fully on the bed to lie down next to him, “I feel pretty seduced by you already.”

“Ah yeah?” he grinned. “Well, I’m pretty seduced by you too, Sunshine. You’re my hero after all,” he said, and though he had intended it as a joke, his tone was too earnest to be mistaken as anything but the truth. He could still see glimpses of guilt in Rapunzel’s expression, when he knew she had done everything in her power to find him as quickly as she could - he’d repeat it as much as she needed to finally see it too.

Rapunzel watched him, before cupping his cheek and bringing their lips together once again. He knew he would need to rest again soon, and that his constant headache would probably spike if he didn’t, but for now, he kissed her back, and it felt like everything was alright again. Because it was, in all the ways that mattered.

She saved him, and they were together - he wouldn’t ask for anything more.

[jinrawon]

Coffee and sweetness.

Here's a request based on the time Jinyoung cheered up a fan in a café.

Words : 1500+

Y/N had worked hard her whole life. She had accomplished her objective of going to another country to work after studying and had learnt the language as fast as she could. It was no small feat yet it seemed worthless. Her days were becoming slower and her initial energy was long gone. It didn’t help that her colleagues had decided that she was some kind of punching bag. Whenever there was too much work it was her who did it, if they were feeling angry she seemed to be the one who they should shout at. It was not fair, she knew it, and perhaps if she had been in her home she would have left the café. Truth was she was not sure if she could get another job if she left so until she found one she had to endure it. The only thing that had been good was the release of music of her favourite group, Got7. It brought her some comfort she could find nowhere else and she was grateful someone like that existed, even if she could not reach them. 

“ What the hell are you doing? Can you not understand a single order? “ 

Once again she was being scolded for something she had not even done. An order for someone who her co-worker had attended. At this point she could swear they were doing it on purpose. 

“ Y/N, for goodness sake, do I need to tell you in another language? “ 

There they were again. She could understand them perfectly. She was tired of them assuming she could not understand korean just because she was a foreigner. She had worked hard for it, she wanted to be acknowledged. 

“ What the hell are you doing here, go to work already? “ 

She could not even go to the bathroom because they were already after her. She sighed and put on a brave face that could hide all the pain she was really feeling. She went out to attend the next client however she was absent.

“ Could you please give me an Americano? “ 

“ Yes, I’ll have it right up. “ Not only did the guy in front of her get surprised by her mood but also the cameras. “ May I have a name? “

“ Jinyoung. “ 

How fast she looked up then was amusing. She could recognize that face anywhere, with a little smile that could make her heal no matter how bad she had been feeling. 

“ Oh, OK, coming right up. “ The blush that had come across her face made Jinyoung think how cute that girl was. She was for sure unaware of what was going on. “ Here, please enjoy. “ 

“ Actually you should come sit with me. “ 

Y/N was clueless, especially when she found the cameras in the café. 

“ Um.. I am… I am working? “ She didn’t know what to say, especially in front of the boy who she biased. The blush kept creeping up to her face. “ I mean, it’s not that I don’t want but… but I would get… “ 

“ It 's fine. Really. “ 

She pushed aside one lock of her hair and decided to do what the idol said. It didn’t matter if she got into trouble later, she just wanted to be happy for that moment. She sat in front of him. He looked as perfect as she had imagined, his face more beautiful than through the cameras. They didn’t do him justice. 

“ So… Um… “

“ Your best friend requested for me to come and see you. “ He said. Y/N was now wanting to go to her best friend to hug them. “ They said you were not going through the best time and that I could lend you an ear.  You are Y/N, right?“

She nodded and fidgeted with her hands. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. She needed to mentally prepare to talk to him. 

“ Um… well I don’t really know… I am just grateful to see you for real. “

“ Your friend told how you are struggling with your job, however they also said you are trying really hard. “ He looked at her, prepared to listen to her if she was ready to speak. She felt embarrassed, not expecting that the first time she would encounter her idol he would act as a friend she could talk to. “ Something else must be bothering you, am I right? “

She was also surprised at how sharp the guy seemed. 

“ I… so to get to Korea I really had to study hard. “ He nodded, making sure that she understood that he was listening to her. “ So I achieved it and I came to Korea. Yeah… “ She thought for a bit before speaking. “ So I got this job and well… I guess things are more difficult than I expected. “ 

She laughed but Jinyoung was not stupid. He could see the gazes of her co-workers piercing through her. He was sure it had something to do with that. He frowned for a short second, so short no one could notice. 

“ If you don’t feel comfortable here I am sure the camera team wouldn’t mind going out, today it’s sunny so I don’t think there would be a problem. “ 

“ Ah, no! I mean, it’s sunny but it’s cold… I wouldn’t want you to be… “ 

He smiled at her. She was not confident and that bothered him. She wouldn’t say anything else if he did not bring it out. 

“ Are they being mean to you? “ He whispered and while she wanted to deny it, her face made the answer clear. “ They are. “

“ I’ve been trying… “ She finally said. “ I don’t want to work here anymore but I have to endure because I don’t know if I’ll have a job anywhere else. “ She was grateful the café had closed for the programme because she was about to burst to tears. “ I am trying hard but it feels like I am a punching bag of some type. Whenever something goes wrong it’s always my fault even if it was not my client. “ She smiled but it was clear that it was forced and that she was starting to get anxious. “ Sometimes they even say I am useless because I am a foreigner. “

Jinyoung was evidently getting mad. He would not tolerate something like that. Three of his fellow members were foreigners as well, it was like speaking down on them and the girl in front of him seemed like a hard worker who couldn’t endure things anymore. 

“ You don’t deserve to be treated like that. “ He said. Even if his gaze was soft to her it was not the same for her co-workers. “ You are a great hard working person and even though luck may not be on your side I am sure there must be something better waiting for you out there. “ 

The tears that she was holding previously were starting to show at his sweet words. She tried to smile, she really did, but she had been enduring too much for too long and she couldn’t anymore. 

“ I am sorry, “ she said, hiding her face. “ it’s just… it’s just too much, I don’t know what to do anymore, everything seems my fault... and I “  she breathed hard due to the situation she was in. Her co-workers were hearing to every word she said. She knew that she was exposing them on national TV but she didn’t know any other way. “ I must really be annoying, I am sorry. “

“ No, it’s fine. “ She stood up from her seat and apologized. “ There is really no need to apologize. “

“ I’ll go to the bathroom, sorry. “ 

He watched her leave and frowned immediately. 

It was not long after that, ignoring the fact that a programme was being filmed in the café, that they called her. 

“ Are you deaf? “ They told her. “ First this stupid programme is making us loose money and now you can’t even listen to a simple order I gave you. I really have to speak to you in another language, don’t I? “ She was quiet, expecting it to pass soon. Waiting for it to stop. “ And wish it was only that but now you put our café in a bad light. You're enduring what? It’s us who has to endure with a stupid foreigner who can’t even speak korean well. “ 

“ I… “ She gulped and looked at her superior. “ I am the one who speaks with foreigners in this café and I also attend to our Korean clients. You can barely say a word in another language… “ She mumbled. “ I am not at fault here. “

“ Don’t they teach you to not talk back to your superiors in your country? “ He shouted loud enough to catch Jinyoung’s attention. “ We shouldn’t have hired such a… “

“ What the… “ The idol came in between the both of them. “ What the hell are you thinking? “ At some point his accent had come out completely. He was angry and the cameras didn’t know if it was alright to keep filming. “ She really doesn’t have to cope with people like you, what an assh*t you are. “ At some point the cameras decided it was wise to cut seeing how it was not allowed to curse on national TV and Jinyoung, as polite as he was, could not take the situation the girl was going through. “ Just so you know my freaking friends are foreigners too and they are freaking great, sh*thead. “ Oh how would their members tease him after that. " Just because you are a d*ck head doesn't mean you can treat people like they are a f*cking piece of sh*it, you got it? "

To say she was surprised was an understatement. To see the guy she admired curse so much was fascinating. She was amazed at how mad he was and how worried he was about her. She felt lucky and once again remembered how the guy was sweet as chocolate even if he had his savage side. 

“ I think I am resigning. “ She finally said. Her tears had long dried out and her lips were pressed. “ Sorry for all this… “ She apologized to Jinyoung who decided he would make sure she was alright. 

“ You went through a lot, didn’t you? “ His gaze was serious and not one inviting to talk but she knew better. He was still mad. “ You deserve much better, you hear me? “

“ Thank you, I really needed the courage. “ She smiled a bit and looked at him with her puffy eyes. “ I’ll really remember this day. “

“ I had some presents for you… “ First he took out of his bag an album signed by the members and soon some books he had read. “ Those are my favourites books. Take care of them. I hope you like reading. “

“ Yes, I… I don’t know what to say, I’m so thankful… “ Once again she started to cry but this time out of relief. “ I don’t deserve all this… “

“ You do, really, this and more. “ He got close to her and hugged her tightly. He thanked god for the cameras being off. “ I’m sure you’ll get a better job, you deserve it. “ He gave her a sweet kiss on the forehead before smiling once again. “ The fact that you are still here shows how well you’ve been doing. “

“ I...um… " She blushed and touched her forehead for a while before smiling like a love struck fool. " Thank...thank you."

" We could get a coffee if you want, to help you calm down. "

She smiled a little and chuckled nervously.

" I… I really would love that. "

" In exchange don't you dare to get another job like that one. " She looked at him once again and heard him mumble something. " What a bunch of... "

She chuckled at the man and looked at him like he was the only one in the world. She would really remember that day.

End.

[donteattheappleshook]

Playacting

~*~

This fic was written as a thank you to @darkcolinodonorgasm​ for tainting her screen with Neal's face to make an amazing gif for me that sadly won’t load now.

Summary:

Emma has finally left her awful boyfriend after nearly a decade. But when he makes her meet him in a bar to pick up the last of her stuff, she risks falling victim to his usual tactics of sending her crawling back to him. Thankfully, the handsome bartender is there to lend a hand. A fake-boyfriend AU. Heavily Anti-Neal so don't read if that's not your thing.

Read it on Ao3

~*~

Emma sits down heavily on the stool, her elbow landing on the bartop as she lays her chin in her hand, exasperated. Stupid fucking Neal. It’s just like him really, making her come here to meet him after everything he’d made her put up with for the last ten years. Finally, finally she’d worked up the nerve to leave him, to say enough was enough and convince herself she deserved better and then of course as soon as she walks out for good, he finds a way to drag her back, to make him face her one more time. 

She should never have gotten involved with him in the first place. She hadn’t known any better in the beginning. She was seventeen and he was twenty five and she thought it was so cool that someone so mature wanted to be with her. She thought that had to mean she was mature as well. It wasn’t until much later, when half a decade had passed, that she realised how messed up it was… but by then they’d been together five years and he was her whole life. Nearly all her friends were his friends, they lived in his apartment… she can’t believe she stuck it out another five years after that. 

You can do this, she tells herself. You’ve already done the hard part. You left and nothing he can say will make you come back. But still, she steels herself for what will undoubtedly be an excruciatingly unpleasant interaction. Neal is just… he’s just so good at making her feel worthless, at breaking her down and chipping away at the little things he knows she’s self-conscious about until there’s nothing left and she just feels small and broken. She clenches her fists, staying her nerves and bracing herself. Not anymore though. Because you left and you just have to see his stupid face one more time and then it’s over. It’s just words. 

She jumps as a glass is set down in front of her and looks up to see a somewhat familiar pair of brilliant blue eyes looking back at her. The bartender. The handsome one. She’s seen him around before. She’s come to the bar fairly often over the last year or so and he seems to work most nights. She likes him, well, as much as you can like a stranger who pours you drinks all night. He’s always nice and friendly and extremely polite and he doesn’t hit on her the way most bartenders do. She’d never admit it, but sometimes it bothered her a little that he didn’t. She can’t quite remember his name, having never had a real conversation with him, and she stares at the drink in front of her, raising a suspicious brow at him. 

“I didn’t order this.”

“I know, but you look like you could use it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she demands, scowling. She’s already having a shit day, she doesn’t need some bartender trying to analyze her and telling her she looks as terrible as she feels. He doesn’t even bother to look embarrassed. Instead, he crosses his arms on the bartop, leaning on his elbows. 

“It means, you look sad.” He tilts his head then, scrutinizing her face. “Or angry,” he adds. “And you look like you could use a drink.” 

Emma wants to glare at him a little longer but his tone is light. There’s no judgement or pity on his face, just a friendly offer of a drink, and she can’t quite bring herself to be annoyed. And besides, he did guess her drink right. She reaches for her wallet and goes to pull out some cash but he waves her away. 

“It’s on the house,” he tells her and honestly her night is going to be so terrible that she doesn’t have it in her to turn down a free glass of rum. She takes a sip, noting that it’s damn good rum, and tilts her cup to him in thanks. He smiles, a little smugly and a little mischievously, and leaves her, going back to whatever work it is he has to do. 

A few minutes pass and Neal still hasn’t arrived. She glares at her watch. Of course he’d be late. He’d want to make her wait as long as possible so she’d have time to stew in her decision, both to leave him and to meet him. Her glass is nearly empty and she raps her fingers against the bartop rhythmically, waiting, bored, anxious, and impatient. 

The bartender looks up briefly when she does and then goes back to his task. The bar is empty apart from the two of them so he doesn't have anyone to wait on. He’s counting something, concentrating quite seriously and she takes a moment to study him. Of course she’d noticed he was attractive before. It would have been impossible not to. But she hadn’t really let herself look, not properly. She was in a relationship after all. But you’re not now, she realises suddenly. 

So she casts her eyes over him slowly, noting how soft his hair looks in contrast to the sharp angle of his jaw and the scruff that covers it, notices the muscles of his shoulders and his arms under the fitted black shirt he wears, the slightest bit of chest hair peeking out of the v of his collar. 

When she looks back at his face again he’s biting his lip against a smirk and she wonders if she’s been caught looking. But he doesn’t acknowledge it, doesn’t come over to try pick her up and so she turns back to her drink and to waiting. But she doesn’t last long. She’s never done well with waiting and her impatience grows until it spills out of her mouth in the form of small talk. 

“So which is it?” she asks finally and he turns to look at her, a little surprised. He doesn’t quite seem to get her meaning. “Sad or angry. Which is it?” 

“Ah,” he says, as understanding dawns on him and he walks back over, leaning against the bar and looking at her carefully. She tries not to react under his intense appraisal. “Both, I think.” Emma grumbles into her drink, annoyed that he’s read her so easily, and he laughs. “Although, perhaps the anger is my fault. Maybe I should have made your drink a double.”

Emma smirks around the rim of her glass and then sets it down. “Well, it’s never too late to make amends.” 

He laughs again and grabs a bottle from the shelf behind him, refilling her drink. “So tell me, love, what brings you here tonight?”

“Are you always this nosy?” 

“It comes with the territory,” he shrugs. “Although people are usually much more forthcoming with their ails and secrets. You’re a bit of a puzzle, I’ll admit.” He smirks then, wicked and bright. “But I love a challenge.” Emma rolls her eyes. 

“I’m meeting someone,” she says finally. 

“I see. A first date?” he asks and she nearly chokes on her drink, coughing. 

“God, no. Hopefully the last one.” 

He raises a brow in interest. “Are you here to break up with someone? Should I have security on standby?” 

She shakes her head. “No, that part’s already done. I left last week. But now the asshole is making me meet him here so that he can give me back the files I left behind and need for work.” 

“You couldn’t just go pick them up?”

“I wish,” she frowns. “He put them in a bag and has been holding them hostage until I agreed to meet him.” 

“Sounds like a real winner,” Killian drawls sarcastically. 

“You don’t know the half of it.” 

“Bad breakup then?” 

She nods. “Bad relationship."

“What sins is he guilty of?”

Emma laughs. “Take your pick. Lust, wrath, greed, pride. Throw a dart at any of the seven and you’ll hit something that sticks.”

“I’m sorry love,” he says and she shrugs. It’s not his fault. “So tell me something then, because I can’t quite seem to figure it out. Why are you so nervous to see him?” he asks and she looks at him in surprise.  “You look like you can handle yourself and you’ve certainly got enough rage and fire under the surface to burn this whole bloody place to the ground. What is it?” 

Emma catches her lip between her teeth, a little pleased at the compliment, at the suggestion that she looks like a badass, but the question hits hard. She’s been asking herself that for ten years. Why is Neal able to get under her skin so easily, to make her doubt herself and her worth?

“Neal,” she says finally and the bartender doesn’t push, just leans on the bartop, waiting, giving her time. “He’s the only guy I’ve ever been with. We dated for ten years and he knows everything about me… and he knows exactly how to use it to make me feel like crap about myself, like if I didn’t have him I wouldn’t have anything, nobody else would want me.” And she can’t exactly prove him wrong considering she’s been faithful to his selfish ass for a decade, regardless of the fact that he had no problem showing her how many women wanted him. 

Her hand tightens against her glass and for a moment she worries she might crush it but then the back of the bartender's fingers brush against her knuckles and she feels the anxiety and the hurt start to seep out, to dissipate at the warm touch. He’s not holding her hand, he’s barely moved his own across the space between them, nudged hers with it in a way that could almost be an accident. But when she looks up and meets his gaze she knows it’s not. And his next words confirm it. 

“Believe me, I can guarantee you that’s not true.” 

She swallows. “I just -” He waits again. “I just wish I hadn’t stuck it out so long, you know? I wasted ten years with the guy, all of my twenties. And that whole time he never wanted to get married, never wanted to make any commitments or promises, kept saying he didn't want to be tied down.” Didn’t want to be tied down to you, her memory supplies. “And I - Why am I telling you all this?” she asks herself suddenly and he smiles, letting out a little huff of a laugh. 

“It’s not your fault,” he tells her. “It’s the bartender thing, people can’t help themselves.” 

She doesn’t know if she believes him. She knows people like to treat bartenders like therapists but there’s something about him, an honesty and a sincerity that makes her believe he actually gives a shit about her and what she has to say, like he really cares about her troubles. But maybe everyone projects that onto the people plying them with alcohol. 

“Well now you know my entire sad life and I don’t even know your name,” she says and he straightens, holding out his hand between them. 

“Killian Jones.” She reaches out, shakes it, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. 

“Emma Swan.”

“I know,” he says and before she can question him he speaks again. “Now that we’re not strangers anymore, can I be candid?” She hesitates but only for a moment and then nods. “Your ex sounds like a complete and utter douchebag.” Emma bursts out laughing, the sound of the insult on his tongue seeming wrong, not fitting his accent and the smooth, slightly rogeish way he carries himself. 

And then, suddenly for some unfathomable reason, she catches herself doing what she always does: defending Neal. “It’s not all his fault,” she says, the words coming out automatically. “He had a really rough upbringing. His dad was never around and then he had to run away when he was really young and -” Killian cuts her off.

“That’s a really sad backstory,” he says. “But he's still a douchebag.” Emma bursts out laughing. It’s almost manic, shocked and disbelieving to hear someone dismiss Neal’s history so flippantly, that story which had been used by her friends and his to defend and forgive every shitty thing he ever said or did to her. And now here Killian is, refusing it. Refusing the excuses and the justifications for treating her poorly. 

As if on cue, the bell over the door jingles and Emma turns to see Neal walking in. Killian must know who he is by the way her whole body stiffens at the sight of him. But Neal hasn’t noticed them yet and Killian leans in. 

“Hey,” he says, brushing his warm fingers against her arm. “You’ve got this.” And then he’s gone, disappearing into the back room without another word and Emma tries no to take it to heart, not to let it feel like a dismissal. She thought they had something going there for a moment. She didn’t really know what, an understanding maybe, a connection, the kind she always thought she had with Neal but didn’t realise until now how wrong she was. 

Before she can get too caught up in her disappointment, Neal sits down in front of her, setting the bag with her files on the bartop unceremoniously but keeping his hand on it. She goes to reach for it, hoping that maybe she can get through this whole interaction without having to exchange a single word with him, but as soon as she does, he drags it back towards himself, out of her reach. She glares at him. 

“Give me the bag, Neal,” she sighs and he looks at her with that look she’s seen so many times, that look she hates, the patronizing, belittling look that makes her feel like someone to be pitied, someone worthless. She can feel her hands start to tremble and so she clenches them into fists. “Neal,” she says again when he doesn’t answer. “The bag.” 

“Come on, Ems,” he says and it’s a long-suffering kind of thing, her name sounding exhausting, like more trouble than it’s worth, like she’s some toddler throwing a tantrum. “Can we stop this now? We both know you’re not leaving - why else would you have agreed to meet me here?”

“To get my files back,” she bites through gritted teeth. “I need them for work.” She was going to lose this skip if she didn’t get them back and he knew that. 

“Are you sure you didn’t leave them behind so that you could find a reason to drag me out here and sit through your little charade of ‘woe is me’ until I agreed to take you back?”

“You made me come here,” she reminds him.

“Because I know you, Emma,” he says. “I know that you don’t want to do this. You’re pissed, I get it, whatever. But it’s time to get over it. You’ve made your point, time to come home.”

“I’m not coming home.”

“Yes you are. You always do.” When she doesn’t agree he sighs. “How many times have we done this? You’ll sleep on Ruby’s couch for a few days, stew in whatever it is you’ve convinced yourself I’ve done wrong, and then you’ll come home because you know as well as I do that we belong together, I’m it for you. What do you think you’re gonna do without me? You think you can support yourself just by chasing skips?”

“Yes,” she says but her voice wavers. Don’t let him get to you. 

“Emma, enough, alright. I know you’re mad about that whole thing with that girl from work but it’s not really my fault.” They’ve had this fight before. She won’t do him the decency of asking him to explain what that means. But he does anyway. “Maybe if you weren’t always off trying to play superhero, coming back looking like a mess and acting like a dude I wouldn’t need to go find what I need somewhere else. I won’t do it again, okay? Not if you really try. But I’m not gonna put up with it again, you walking out.”

“I’m not coming back,” she says, refusing to take the bait and reaching for the bag again. He still holds it away. 

“Do you really think you’re gonna find someone better?” he asks then, some anger creeping in. “You’re not going to find someone who treats you better than I have, Emma, not after everything I’ve had to put up with over the years. Nobody wants all that sad, lonely orphan baggage that you drag into the room with you.”

Emma can feel the tears burning her eyes and she knows he can see them too and she hates it. She hates how every word he says digs deeper, how carefully calculated and crafted his speech is to target all the things she dislikes about herself, all the things she knows push people away, all the reasons she knows she’ll probably be alone from now on. This is usually the moment when she breaks, changes her mind and comes back because the idea of being alone is far scarier than being with him. 

She can feel herself weakening when a voice cuts through the silence of the nearly empty room. “Swan! Love, I’m so sorry I’m late.” 

It takes her a moment to realise that it’s Killian talking, that he’s somehow managed to come through the doors from outside, a jacket thrown over his tshirt and his apron abandoned. She opens her mouth to ask him what he’s doing as he strides towards her but before she can finish saying his name he’s caught her face between his hands and captured her lips with his. 

He catches her gasp on his tongue, kissing her with a desperation and an intensity that threatens to knock her off her stool but he holds her fast. There’s a heat and a passion behind every pull of his lips and flick of his tongue against her own that shoots straight to her belly. She groans against him, she can’t remember the last time she’d been kissed like this and her hands find his hips, hanging on for dear life as he uses his hand at her cheek to tilt her head, his thumb pulling down at her chin so he can kiss her deeper. His other hand finds the leather of her jacket, bunchin in it and using it to pull her closer, as if there was any room left between them. 

When he finally pulls back she’s breathless, her eyes and her head feeling foggy and every inch of her skin humming. He smirks, his lips still brushing hers and then capturing them in another slow, soft kiss, this one shorter than the last and it sends waves of desire through her. Her own hand tightens in the leather at his hip. He breaks the second kiss and she’s ready to pull him back in for a third when someone coughs behind Killian. 

Neal. She’d forgotten he was here. 

She looks up into Killian’s eyes, glad to find them as heavy lidded and swallowed by black as she’s sure her own are. He brushes his thumb over her cheekbone, a smile crossing his face and then, he winks. He fucking winks and her, his back still to Neal. Emma sits gaping like an idiot, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m sorry,” he says again instead. “I got caught up at work. I hope that makes up for it a little.” 

It takes her another second to catch on but when she does, a wave of gratitude and relief and a little bit of disappointment washes over her. It’s an act. He’s doing her a favor because she told him about her shitty ex boyfriend and he’s a nice guy. Killian smiles at her again, encouragingly this time and Emma decides to play along. Let Neal be the one feeling small, and unwanted and replaceable for once. 

She reaches up and cards her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s just as soft as she thought it would be, and then allows herself the small pleasure of sliding her hand around the back of his neck and down to his chest where she teases the hair poking out of his shirt. “It’s a start,” she tells him. “You can really make it up to me later.” His eyebrow shoots up as a barely contained laugh, impressed and conspiratorial, crosses his face before he catches it between his teeth. 

“Oh, I intend to,” he promises and while she knows they’re just playacting, the timber of his voice stirs some very real desires in her. She can feel the flush creeping up her cheeks, weighing the pros and cons of dragging him into the bathroom and seeing how far he’ll take this charade. Neal clears his throat again, interrupting her fantasy and Killian smirks, smug, though she can tell it’s not at the reaction he’s drawing from her, but rather at the annoyance he’s managed to evoke from her ex. 

“Hi, mate,” he says, reaching over and grabbing the bag from Neal’s stunned and limp fingers. “Thanks for this, we really needed it,” he tells him, gesturing between them with the bag. He hasn’t taken his hands off her. When he turned, his hand snaked around her waist, settling low on her hip, fingers playing idly with the waist of her jeans, teasing at the skin beneath her shirt and it’s all Emma can do to hold back the shivers that are forming at the base of her spine. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Neal frowns, glaring at Killian before turning it on Emma. “Who the fuck is this guy?” he demands. Emma blanks, the ferocity of Neal’s anger freezing her on the spot. She’s never seen him jealous before. Thankfully, Killian jumps in again, his hand sliding up from her hip to the back of her neck, playing with the hair at the nape in a way that’s both sweet and oddly possessive. 

“Take your pic,” Killian says breezily, looking at her with an extremely convincing imitation of a lovesick expression on his face. “Lover, paramour, beau, flame... boyfriend,” he says finally with a brush of his thumb under her ear and she practically melts. He’s very good at this pretending thing. Too good. “I’ll take whatever she’ll give me,” he says finally when she looks up at him and her certainty that he’s pretending waivers. 

He stares at her for a moment longer, something weighted in his gaze that sends her heart beating frantically in her chest before he turns back to Neal, throwing the bag over his shoulder.  “But I don’t need to tell you that,” he says dismissively. “You know what it’s like to be lucky enough to have Emma Swan give you the time of day.” There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks next. “Only a fool would have let her go.” He presses a kiss to her temple.

Neal is angry again. This time, it’s directed at her. “You expect me to believe that in the week since you stormed out you’ve gone and found yourself some boytoy to follow you around? Some guy you just met?

“I didn’t just meet him,” she says and it’s not technically a lie. She’s known him in passing for a year now, even if she did just learn his name tonight. “We… work together,” she says finally. 

Neal looks at Killian with a wary expression. “You’re a bail bondsman?” he asks and Emma doesn’t miss the surprised and flatteringly impressed look Killian gives her before flawlessly answering that yes, yes he is in fact a bail bondsman. 

“I’ve spent the last year working alongside Swan. Pining for her, waiting for her to walk into the office, to see that smile light up her face.” He traces the line of her lips. “The way those unreasonably tight jeans cling to her.” His fingers trace their way down her throat, over her shoulder. “Watch her face down one creep after another.” 

He catches her hand, her knuckles a bit bruised from the last skip who wouldn’t stop fighting. He brushes his thumb over her knuckles before he brings them to his lips and kisses them. She watches him, enthralled by the picture he paints of her and he meets her gaze, looking no less mesmerized himself. “She’s a marvel, my Swan.” Emma swallows, she likes the way that sounds coming from his lips. My Swan. “But mostly,” he adds finally and he’s still not looking at Neal, only at her and god he’s handsome and he smells so good and he’s so… kind. That’s not something she’s used to but she’s drawn to it. “Waiting for her to break up with her idiot boyfriend so that I could tell her so,” he finishes. 

Emma’s not sure what comes over her but suddenly her hands have found the back of his neck and she’s crushing his lips to hers. She can feel his surprise and nearly pulls back but his arms go around her waist as he draws her in, deepening the kiss. His hands alternate between gentle caresses and desperately fisting in her shirt and his mouth over hers is no different, languide strokes of his tongue alternated with bruising kisses and teeth nipping at her lips until she’s dizzy. Neal coughs a third time and Killian breaks away with a frustrated groan. One that feels very real. 

“Are you still here?” he demands, glaring at the other man over his shoulder. 

“I think I deserve some answers,” he says then, seething, and Emma feels a rage building in her like nothing she’s ever felt before. He deserves answers? He’s the one who’s spent years cheating and blaming her for it, who put her down at every opportunity, who reminded her that he could be with anyone if he wanted to and she couldn’t. She’s done with it. That final demand is the last straw. She owes him nothing. 

“What’s going on,” she bites out and sees Neal almost recoil from the venom in her voice. He’s not used to her standing up for herself. Killian steps back, giving her room to finally tell off her awful ex, keeping his hand on her lower back and she appreciates the small gesture of support. “Is that I found someone who doesn’t treat me like garbage. Someone who doesn’t blame me for all their shortcomings and who actually gives a shit about what I think and feel and want.” She can see that her words are affecting him, for the first time ever, and so she digs in. She wants to hurt him. 

“Someone who actually knows how to make me feel good, how to drive me insane and leave me desperate and wanting.” Killian raises a very interested brow at her then, listening attentively and she feels the blush creeping up her neck but continues. Neal had always been angry about how much difficulty she had finishing when they were together, accusing her of being cold and frigid.  “Someone who doesn’t last thirty, underwhelming seconds and then rolls over like some useless lump. Someone I don’t have to beg to go down on me like it’s a chore so that I can have the hopes of a sub-par orgasm.” 

She can feel Killian’s fingers twitch against the skin of her back but she can’t bring herself to look at him. His hand begins tracing up and down the base of her spine in a way she’s not even sure is intentional. His eyes are burning into her. 

“Okay. Enough, I get it,” Neal says finally. 

“Yeah. It is enough. I should have done this years ago.” She feels a pride swelling in her chest, mixing with the arousal that Killian is stirring in her and it’s a heady combination. “I think you should leave,” she tells him and she watches with vindication as his shoulders sag and he slinks out of the bar without another word. 

Emma is so lost in the thrill and the satisfaction of watching her horrid ex leave so demolished, knowing that she likely won’t ever have to speak to him again, that it’s a moment before she remembers that she’s still standing here with a near stranger. A stranger she’s made out with three times now and who is currently removing his hand from where it had been playing against her skin. She misses it immediately. But the charade is over, she realises. It hadn’t been real, he’d been doing her a kindness and she was grateful to him, even if she was a little crushed that they couldn’t go on playing happy couple. He’d been very good at it. 

Killian clears his throat, scratching at the back of his neck as he gives her a small, slightly embarrassed smile. “Well, I guess he won’t be bothering you again,” he says and Emma shakes her head. 

“No. I’m sure he won’t. Thank you. For… well, all of that. You didn’t have to.”

He smiles at her again. It’s a nice smile, and she notices that he has a smudge of her lipstick on his bottom lip. She’s torn between reaching to wipe it off and leaving more marks on him. She does neither. 

“Yes I did,” he says, drawing her attention away from his mouth. “He had it coming. I heard what he said to you and if what you said was true… well. You’re better to be rid of him.” 

Emma clears her throat, a small smile playing at her lips. “Did you see his face when he thought we’d had some elicit office affair of the heart going on?” Killian nods, smirking proudly. “How did you even come up with all of that on the fly?” she asks. He’d been… very convincing. 

“I didn’t,” he says and her eyes snap to his. But he doesn’t explain or elaborate, just lets it hang there in the air between them. She reaches out and takes his hand, tries to ignore the way the calluses feel rough against her soft skin, how warm he is. 

“Thank you,” she says again. “I don’t know how I’ll pay you back for that.” 

His smile is soft this time as he takes her hand in both of his and kisses her knuckles again. “You don’t. It was the right thing to do.” 

He goes to leave her, to walk away but the feel of his lips against her skin is still burning through her fingers, burning everywhere that he’s touched her, like he’d branded her and left the marks behind. Her cheek, her neck, her spine, her hip, her lips, all of them are simmering after the raging inferno he set off in her and she’s not ready to let it die out just yet. He said he hadn’t made it all up. 

She has no idea what she’s doing. She’s never been with anyone but her shitty ex and a few guys when she was a teenager. She doesn’t know how to seduce a stranger into taking her home - or on the bartop, she’s not picky - but she shoots her shot. She catches his hand more firmly in her own before he can walk away. 

“Unless…” she starts and he stops, takes a step back towards her. 

“Unless?” There’s something a little hopeful in his eyes when they meet hers. And something a little less innocent and a little darker as they trail down to her lips.

“I mean, you were late,” she says coyly and watches as the playfulness crinkles the corners of his eyes and the smirk pulls at his lips. 

He raises an eyebrow at her as he closes the last of the distance between them, standing close enough that she needs to spread her legs on her stool to allow him to stand between them. His thumb finds her chin, tilting her face up to his.

“I was,” he says, ducking his head and pressing his lips to her neck, just below her jaw. She takes in a shaky breath. “How very rude of me,” he adds before kissing the other side of her neck, this time at the hollow where it meets her collarbone. Emma squirms in her seat. He’s facing her again then, his lips barely an inch away from her own, so close that she can feel his breath on them when he speaks. “How will I ever make it up to you?”

She doesn’t think, she just acts, grabbing his shirt and yanking him forward until he’s trapped between her thighs and she can feel the hardness growing where he’s pressed against her. He lets out a surprised but pleased sound and it emboldens her.

“Why don’t you think about that while I thank you properly,” she says and he doesn’t need anymore encouragement. He catches her face in his hands again, slanting his mouth over hers, his tongue teasing hers as he presses himself closer to her as one of his hands travels down to her thigh, sliding along it before hooking her knee and pulling it up around his hip. She nearly loses her balance on her seat but he holds her steady, his kisses growing deeper and headier and she’s letting out whimpers and soft moans, sounds she didn’t know she had in her and he swallows each of them up greedily, repeating whatever he’d done to draw them out so he can hear them again. 

Her hands find their way to his hair, fisting and tugging and he lets out a groan so she does it again. And again. Her hips roll up against his of their own accord and he practically rips his mouth away from hers, the sound he makes somewhere between a gasp and a growl before he finds her neck again, lips and teeth and tongue laving at the skin there, biting and licking and sucking until she’s sure he’s left a mark but she holds him fast, tilting her head back to give him more access. 

He takes it appreciatively, his tongue sliding down her throat until he reaches the top of her breast. The hand at her knee starts a slow journey up her side, under the skin of her shirt, burning and leaving goosebumps behind in their wake as he trails his fingers along her ribcage to her bra, his thumb tracing over her nipple and she gasps, dragging his mouth back to hers. She can feel his smirk against her lips but she doesn’t care, nipping at his bottom lip and slipping her own hand under his shirt and scratching at the trail of hair on his stomach, a trail she desperately wants to see and he shudders under her touch. 

The bell rings above the door as a group of friends walk in, chattering happily and Killian pulls away, drawing his hand out from under her shirt. His forehead falls against hers, panting. His tongue comes out to run over his lip like he’s tasting her there. He’s looking at her like he’s waiting for her to decide what happens next and so she grabs the front of his shirt, tilting her head to brush her lips against his own, tongue flicking against the one he’d just licked and drawing another groan from him. 

“Bathroom?” she asks and he shakes his head, stepping back and before she can even start to think she’s been rejected, he holds his hand out to her, nodding towards the back of the bar. She takes it and he begins practically dragging her towards the 'employees only' door before she remembers why she’d come here in the first place. 

“My bag!” she says and he looks confused before he remembers, turning to grab the duffle and tossing it behind the bar and then pulling her along behind him again. Emma giggles at his enthusiasm, excitement and arousal and want making her giddy. He hears her laugh and turns, a bright smile on his face, crinkling his eyes and lighting up his features as he pulls her to him. He captures her lips again, his fingers tangling in her hair as they both try and kiss with grinning mouths. 

They pass someone in the staff area as Killian continues to walk them backwards to wherever his destination is, refusing to give up the kiss, and Emma feels herself flush as the young man sees them and smirks smugly and knowingly. 

“About bloody time,” he says and Killian glowers at him. 

“Get to work, Will. We have customers,” he barks and the man holds his hands up innocently, the smirk not leaving his face. Killian pulls her along a few more feet then until they reach a door that he fumbles to open. They’ve barely made it inside before he’s pushing her against the wood, pinning her there with his hips and his mouth and her head is spinning but his lips have started down her neck again and he rolls his hips against hers in a dirty grind that has her crying out. 

When her eyes open she notices they’re in an office and she worries about what rules he might be breaking, worried about his job and asks if he’ll get in trouble for bringing her in here. He shakes his head. 

“I own the place,” he says, his voice muffled against the underside of her jaw. 

“You own the bar?” she demands, surprised and he sighs, pulling his head up to lean his forehead against hers. 

“Could we perhaps talk about this later?” he asks, his talented fingers following her ribs up to her breast again, cupping it in his palm and dragging against its peak. Emma nods furiously before kissing him again. His hand is still moving over her, massaging and flicking and teasing before he grows frustrated by the fabric between them, grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head. 

As soon as it’s off, he’s pulling at the cup of her bra, exposing her breast to him and taking her nipple in his mouth. Emma gasps at the feel of his tongue dragging against the sensitive tip, swirling and licking, teasing it with his teeth. She has a death grip in his hair, refusing to let him move, not that he seems particularly inclined to.  

“Fuck, Killian,” she gasps when he finds her other breast with his hand, working her up more and more until she thinks she might come from this alone. She can feel his smirk, his scruff scratching against her skin and it sends a shiver through her whole body. 

“That’s the intention, love,” he tells her and she tightens her hold in his hair for his smugness, yanking until he’s forced to pull away from her chest and look at her. 

“Then get on with it,” she tells him and thrills at the way his expression darkens. He slides his hands between her and the door, palming her ass and rolling her hips against the hard ridge of his erection before he lifts her, wrapping her legs around his waist effortlessly. Emma’s arms wind around his neck as he turns, carrying her across the room and setting her down on the desk. 

“As you wish,” he tells her, slipping the straps of her bra down her arms. She reaches behind herself and unclasps it, tossing it aside and watches as he takes her in, eyes roving hungrily over her. Nobody’s ever looked at her like that, like he wants to devour her. Maybe he does. 

He’s still wearing his jacket and Emma is suddenly overcome with the unfairness that he’s spending so much time just looking at her while she doesn’t get to see any of him. She reaches for his shoulders and pushes the jacket down his arms until it falls to the floor, reaching for the hem of his shirt and beginning to slide it up but she gets distracted when his fingers resume their tortuous exploration of her breasts. 

She gasps, her head falling back as his touch sends wetness pooling between her thighs and her nails dig into the skin at his sides. He’s watching her, taking note of her reactions, figuring out what makes her tick and then doing it again and again until she’s writhing under him and he hasn’t even undressed her yet. It’s never been like this, all consuming and desperate and wanton. She needs more and she whimpers his name. 

The sound of his name falling from her lips so needily does something to him and suddenly he’s dragging her mouth back to his, swallowing her moan as his tongue does sinful things to hers. He pushes her back until she’s laying against the desk and his lips leave hers, trailing down her neck to her chest, taking a moment to pay attention to each of her breasts before continuing down her belly, playing at her navel a moment before he reaches the button of her jeans. 

“I must say I’m quite a fan of these,” he tells her as he flicks open the button and starts to pull down the zipper. “But I think it’s time for them to go.” Then, he’s hooking his fingers into her waistband and pulling them down with enough force that she slides to the end of the desk with them. Emma sits up on her elbows as she watches him pull them off, one leg at a time until she’s left in only her underwear. He's watching her as well with something predatory in his gaze. 

“I want to see you too,” she says, grabbing at his shirt but he seems too distracted to catch on. “Hey,” she says finally, sitting up and grabbing the collar to get his attention. “Fair’s fair.” 

He lets out a low huff of laughter. “You’re right,” he agrees. “Bad form,” he chastises himself before reaching to pull the shirt over his head. Emma’s eyes widen as she takes him in, the strong curve of his shoulders and his arms that his shirt hadn’t done justice, the long lines of his torso, pale skin covered in dark hair that blankets his chest and tapers down over his stomach, disappearing beneath his jeans. She doesn’t fight the urge to burry her fingers in it, hands tracing over the planes of his chest, scraping her nails over his nipples and down his sides and he lets out a soft hiss. 

She reaches his belt then and as she begins to pull at the leather to loosen it, he stops her. She frowns at him but he only presses his lips to her jawline, tongue flicking out to tease. “Ah, ah,” he says, taking hold of the last scrap of material keeping her from being bare to him. “Ladies first,” he insists with a soft nip before he pulls them down her legs. He’s parting her thighs then, and while Emma expects him to undo his pants, instead he slides down to his knees, placing a leg over either shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” 

He raises a brow at her from between her legs, a slow smirk creeping across his face and it’s so goddamn sexy that her toes curl against his back, a shudder rippling through her. 

“As much as I’d like to hear you beg,” he starts. “I’d also like to make sure you have at least some chance at a sub-par orgasm,” he says echoing her words from earlier and she grins, biting her lip at how ridiculous he is and he takes that as permission. He turns his head, trailing slow, languid kisses along her thigh, scruff scratching at the sensitive skin until he reaches her hip. He bypasses where she’s hot and desperate for him to do the same on the other and she whines, trying to pull him in with her leg on his shoulder. 

He chuckles against her, his breath ghosting over her folds and she sucks in a shaky breath. “Please, Killian,” she says and suddenly his mouth is there, placing a deep, hot kiss against her center and her whole body clenches with the intensity of it. 

“I told you, Swan,” he says. “There’s no need to beg.” He smirks at her. “This time.” 

And before she can say anything his tongue is dragging a slow line from base to top and every thought in her mind is gone except for him and fuck. He eats into her like a starving man, tongue lapping at her folds, sliding inside of her and thrusting in a way that has her back arching off the desk and her hands fisting in his hair. He lays an arm across her hips to keep her still as he replaces his tongue with his fingers, dragging slowly and steadily against her walls in a rhythm that has her writhing, desperately trying to rock her hips against him. 

“Bloody hell, love,” he says as he watches her ride his fingers. “You’re a vision. So wet, so wanting. Tell me what you need,” he asks then, begs, and she’s too caught up in the feelings he’s sending through her body to find words so instead she presses her heel against his back until he gets the message and closes his mouth over he clit, tongue flattening against it as he circles in time with his fingers. 

“Fuck!" She’s already so close. It’s never been this easy, this quick, this intense, but her whole body feels like it’s burning, the coil in her belly tightening and he picks up his pace. His fingers curl inside of her pumping hard and fast as he wraps his lips around her clit and sucks and her whole world shatters. 

Killian works her through it, fingers still thrusting slowly, his thumb replacing his mouth as he slides up her body, working her back up before she’s even sure she’s come down. He takes a moment to pause at her hips, her stomach, her breasts and by the time he’s claiming her lips she’s desperate for him again. 

She sits up, taking hold of his hips and pulling him against her until their flush, the hair of his chest scraping against the sensitive skin of her nipples and only making her want more. This time, when she reaches for his belt he doesn’t stop her and she makes quick work of his jeans, sliding inside and taking him in hand. 

He groans into her mouth and she smiles against his lips. He’s hard and hot and heavy under her touch and she drags her palm along his length a few times until he growls out a warning ‘Swan’. 

She takes pity on him, pushing his jeans down his hips and wrapping her hand around him, pumping him slowly and his head falls back, eyes squeezed shut and lips parted in pained bliss and god she wants him. She can’t remember the last time she wanted someone like this. So she tells him. 

“Now,” she adds and he nods a little frantically, patting his pockets before he spots his wallet on the desk next to her and retrieves a condom from it. He brings the packet to his teeth, fumbling for a moment as she squeezes him and he gives her another warning glare. 

She smirks, leaning in to press her lips to his neck, catching the hard, tense lines of it between her teeth, biting and then soothing the spot with her tongue. He groans and she gives the other side of his neck the same treatment, thrilling when he curses under his breath, desperately trying to roll the condom on. 

She’d help but she’s having too much fun, particularly when she sucks a bruise into the spot just behind his ear and he lets out a stuttering cry, his hand grabbing hold of her hip, fingers digging into her skin. She’ll probably have a mark there and she likes that idea, likes the idea that she can get him as out of control as he can her. 

“Minx,” he accuses, using her hair to draw her mouth back up to his and sliding his tongue deep without preamble. His kiss is sloppy, desperate, wanting. He’s on the edge and she brought him there. She wonders if she can push him over. 

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” he asks then, releasing her mouth to say it low in her ear. “Ever since that first night you came into the bar with your friends. Gods you were stunning.” His fingers slip around her hip to between her thighs, finding her center again and she whimpers at his touch, slow and teasing, circling without ever hitting where she needs him. 

“I wanted to curl my fingers into you bloody ridiculously long hair,” he tells her, doing just that as his fingers slip inside her once more and she gasps. “Aye, and in there.” She’s clutching at his shoulders as he fucks her with his fingers, continuing to rasp filth into her ear. “I thought about how you’d look, splayed out on the bartop with my head between your legs, or bent over this desk. It was bloody torture.” 

His thumb finally brushes over her clit and her whole body wracks with the force of the pleasure that courses through her. “Why,” she gasps again when he circles tighter. “Why didn’t you?” she asks. She doesn’t usually like dirty talk. She'd always found it derogatory. But it’s not with him. It makes her feel wanted and desirable.

“Because you had a bloody boyfriend,” he growls, exasperated. Who? She wonders before remembering and then wishing she hadn’t. “But that didn’t stop me from imagining how you’d look with your back arched just like this,” he says, eyes raking over the length of her. “Or the sounds you’d make when I touched you,” he adds, then pulls his fingers from her heat and sucks them into his mouth, making her squirm. “I imagined you writhing just like this, begging me to take you.”

She doesn’t need to beg though at this point she would, dignity be damned. No one has ever made her feel this way and she never wants it to end. She’d give him anything he asked for if he just didn’t stop. She wraps her legs around his hips, pulls him against her so that his cock pushes through her folds and they both moan. Killian ruts his hips against hers a few times, the tip of him brushing against her sensitive bundle of nerves and when she thinks she can’t take it anymore he finally takes himself in hand and lines himself up with her entrance. 

“Gods, I imagined how tight and hot and perfect you’d be around me,” he confesses before pushing in and grabbing hold of her, staying still for a moment as she adjusts to the sensation of being filled by him. He’s big. Thick and long and so much better than what she’s made do with for the last decade. She doesn’t think she’s ever felt so full, so properly full until now. “You’re even more perfect than I imagined,” he manages, his voice strained. 

“Move,” she begs then. “Please.” He obliges, pulling out slowly and thrusting back in hard and fast and Emma cries out from the force of it. He’s barely started but she can already tell she’s never been properly fucked either. 

He starts moving then, thrusting in and out of her at a punishing pace and she takes all that he can give her. Her hands are in his hair again and his finds her leg, hitching it higher over his hip so he can thrust deeper, hitting new places inside of her. His hand slides down to the cheek of her ass, pulling forward to meet his every thrust, rolling his pelvic bone over her clit each time he pushes back into her and Emma’s already nearly ready to fall again. 

“That’s it, love,” he tells her as a litany of embarrassing sounds fall from her lips and she claws at the skin of his arms, hips rolling in a desperate grind. “Take what you need.” His free hand comes to her breast, teasing the hardened peak the way he’d spent time figuring out she liked. Everything he does is just how she likes it, how she never even knew she liked it. But he’s figured her out in the time it took to get her out of her pants and now he’s using all of it to bring her higher, higher than she’s ever been. 

And she falls. He slants his mouth over hers, like he wants to swallow her ecstasy, feel it humming through his body and then with a final few thrusts, she feels his own release echo through her. They stay there for a moment, frozen in a half kiss, mouths open and panting, breathing each other in as they both try to come down from such a fierce, earth-shattering climax. 

Emma finds his hair then, brushing he damp strands from his face as he holds her to him. “I wish you’d told me,” she says finally, thinking of all the time she wasted with him when she could have been having this with Killian. 

He huffs out a laugh against her cheek, pulling back and stroking it gently. “Aye, I was a bloody idiot,” he tells her. “Everyone who works here knew I was pining for you and they all told me so.” Emma smiles, her heart beating rapidly and her cheeks reddening at his confession. He’d already told her he’d thought about her but to hear that he’d been pining… 

“Well, you may be an idiot,” she grants him and he pinches her side playfully. “But you’re the best fake boyfriend I’ve ever had.” 

He beams at her then, and then a wicked look falls over his face. The hand at her side begins tracing her thigh, from knee to hip and then up to her ribs. 

“What are you doing?” she asks, though it’s fairly obvious when his skilled fingers find her still overly-sensitive center and she gasps at the sharp pleasure. He raises a brow at her. 

“I’m wondering,” he starts, lips finding her ear as his fingers start a slow stroke that has goosebumps blossoming over her skin. “How many sub-par orgasms it would take to earn the title of real boyfriend.”  Her heart is racing, from his touch, or his words, or both. She doesn’t care. She wants both. She likes him. It’s been so long since she liked someone and for it to be someone like him, and for him to like her back, to have pined for her as he put it… 

She smiles. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

~*~

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(Slightly) Less Useless, (Definitely) Gayer Chapter 8

Interrogations

Janus doesn’t get a lot of time to be alone with Virgil’s boyfriends, but it’s those few moments that truly count.

Chapter 7 | Masterlist | Chapter 9

Janus Williams was a busy man. He was the CEO of Hydra Hydraulics, and even with Thomas as their manager, Janus made sure to have a say in the financial and legal dealings of The Dark Sides. When he wasn’t working, Janus was spending time with Remus and/or Virgil. Because of this, Janus didn’t have many personal hobbies, nor did he have enough time to properly interrogate Virgil’s boyfriends. Even though the four of them had been living together for over a month (and dating for 3), Janus still did not fully trust the three men who claimed to love Virgil. Sure, his suspicions had significantly lessened since he first spoke to Logan all of those months ago. But if there was one thing that Janus learned from his parents, it was that people can have multiple faces, some of which they’re not even aware of possessing. Janus frequently flipped through multiple faces like they were simple party masks. He was harsh and unyielding when dealing with Hydra Hydraulics. He was sly and mysterious when playing as Deceit. He was sarcastic yet caring when interacting with Virgil and Remus. He was vulnerable and completely head-over-heels when he kissed Remus behind closed doors.

Janus knew about people being two-faced or even three-faces (hell, Janus himself was four-faced), and he suspected that Virgil’s boyfriends weren’t all that they seemed. There had to be something that he didn’t know. And Janus was going to find out what it was.

And if those faces had the potential to hurt Virgil?

Well, Mother and Father taught him to always have a fifth face, just in case.

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

Janus sighed as he changed out of his suit. He’d spent the past few hours dealing with stupid employees, and right now he wanted nothing more than to relax and watch some shitty romcoms. Normally he’d watch them with Remus and Virgil, but both of them were busy. Remus was doing something with Roman (some sort of spa day?) and Virgil was spending the day with Logan and Patton.

Just as Janus sat down with his snake-themed pajamas and face mask (because self-care is necessary) his phone went off. Janus sighed, expecting it to be one of the supervisors with a stupid question. He blinked when he saw the caller ID.

Patton Morale

Even though Janus had given Virgil’s boyfriends his number (in case there’s an emergency) he didn’t actually expect Patton to text him. Janus quickly unlocked his phone and read the text.

P- (3:46 PM) Hey, Janus! Are you busy right now?

P- (3:46 PM) You don’t have to respond if you’re busy! I was just wondering

Janus frowned at the texts. This sounded nothing like Patton’s happy, quirky self. He sounded like Virgil back before he’d gotten close to Janus. While he was mainly sarcastic and rude, there were times where he was really anxious and vulnerable. Janus decided to answer truthfully.

J- (3:47 PM) I am doing nothing important at the moment. What do you need?

P- (3:47 PM) Oh, I was just wondering if you wanted to bake some cupcakes today. I know how happy you were when you made breakfast for Remus, and I thought baking would be fun!

J- (3:47 PM) Would you prefer to do this at my house or Virgil’s? While I have a bigger kitchen and better cooking supplies, I don’t believe I have most of the ingredients.

P- (3:48 PM) Your house is fine! I’ll bring the ingredients over

J- (3:48 PM) Then I will see you when you arrive

Janus sighed as he turned off the TV. He then went upstairs to change into something more presentable. Sure, he was skipping his self-care day, but this was the perfect opportunity to learn more about Patton.

Fifteen minutes later, Patton stood in his doorway, multiple bags of ingredients in each hand. “I thought we could try different types of cupcakes,” Patton explained as Janus took a few bags to carry. “I have the ingredients for vanilla, chocolate, and red velvet. Plus, I thought we could make some homemade frosting!”

When they prepared the first batch of cupcakes (vanilla), Janus was silent as Patton led him through each step. When they got those in the oven, they decided to prepare the chocolate cupcake batter next. Janus didn’t notice any major changes in Patton’s behavior until they put the chocolate cupcakes in the oven and let the vanilla cupcakes cool. Janus made the red velvet batter on his own while Patton made the icing for the vanilla cupcakes. Patton had started humming a tune under his breath as he stirred the icing. It took Janus a moment to realize that he was humming the tune of Lies, one of Janus’ songs. Janus had to admit, Patton was good at humming the lyrics. Patton hit all of the muffled notes, and even paused for the right amount of time instead of skipping it. Janus smiled as he hummed along, making sure to keep his voice low. It took a few minutes for Patton to realize that he was duetting.

Patton yelped as he dropped his spoon. “Sorry, I didn’t even realize I was humming! That must’ve been really annoying. I’m sorry, I’ll stop rambling now.”

Janus frowned. “Patton, you weren’t annoying me. I was humming along. I’m a rock star, it was flattering to hear you hum my song. And you have a lovely voice.”

Patton blushed, but there was something else in his eyes. “T-thanks.” He turned back to the icing, and Janus let it go.

There were several instances after that where Patton would move to do something fun or silly and stop halfway through. He would hum the first few words of a song before going dead silent. He would move as if to twirl or do a grand hand gesture before stopping abruptly. He would open his mouth to (Janus assumed) give a cheesy pun, but no sound would come out. Every time, Janus would let it slide. He assumed that Patton was still embarrassed over the humming incident.

But the final nail in the coffin came when Patton went to get the chocolate cupcakes out and caught his arm in the oven. He yelped and Janus immediately ran over to reopen the oven. Patton quickly pulled his arm out, still gripping the cupcake tray. He sat the tray down on the stove while Janus moved to check his injuries. Patton immediately shied away. “I’m fine, just clumsy ol’ Patton!” He started mumbling to himself. “Stupid, clumsy Patton.”

Janus grabbed Patton’s wrist, forcing him to face Janus. Janus turned off the oven before leading Patton to the nearest bathroom, where he knew a medkit was. He knew enough about burn injuries from the few times Virgil or Remus would burn themselves. Patton had a nasty looking burn along his forearm, which Janus treated to the best of his ability. After a few minutes, Janus spoke up. “What’s wrong? Besides the burn, of course.”

Patton stared for a moment before smiling. “Nothing’s wrong, silly! Why would anything be wrong?” Janus could practically taste the lie.

“You’ve been acting odd all day. Did something happen?”

Patton shook his head. “No! Nothing’s happened. I promise.” Janus frowned but conceded, refocusing on the bandages. Patton seemed to be telling the truth, but Janus would talk to Virgil about it, just in case.

Later, Janus and Patton were icing the chocolate cupcakes. They had decided not to make the red velvet cupcakes, and the batter was sitting in the fridge. Patton was silent as he meticulously iced each cupcake. Janus was sneaking glances every few minutes, trying to figure out if the silence was from their earlier conversation or if Patton was naturally silent when he iced cupcakes.

Patton’s hands suddenly shook a little, and Janus watched as he made an uneven pattern on the cupcake. Nobody would even notice or care, but it seemed to make Patton’s shaking worse. “S-sorry.” Patton stuttered out, and Janus suddenly realized that Patton was crying.

Janus carefully grabbed Patton’s chin with two fingers and forced him to face Janus. Patton’s eyes remained glued to his hands. “Patton, please look at me.” It took a moment, but Patton slowly looked up into Janus’ eyes, and his entire body started shaking. “Patton, tell me what’s wrong.”

Patton took a shaky breath. “I-I’m fine, really.” When Janus didn’t let go of his chin, Patton caved in. “It’s just… some days there’s a not-so-nice voice in my head. I’ve always had it, and I don’t like being alone when the voice gets loud. Usually, I’ll have one of the others there to keep me company. But Ro’s spending time with Ree, and Lo is on a date with Virgil. I thought I could spend the day with you, but all I’ve done is make you worry and I’m so sorry you have to deal with me-”

Janus tightened his grip on Patton’s chin, and Patton stopped talking. Janus took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking. “I… have a not-so-nice voice as well.” Patton’s eyes widened, and Janus took that as a sign to continue. “My parents weren’t good people. It took a lot of convincing on Virgil’s part for me to realize that they were hurting me. Not physically, but mentally and emotionally. Some days I hear a voice telling me that they were right. It tells me that I’m worthless, and it tells me to do things that I know I shouldn’t do. On the days around my birthday they get really loud, and I can’t hear anything else. Remus and Virgil have to keep a constant eye on me or I’ll do something I’ll regret. That’s how I got this scar.” Patton’s eyes immediately go to the scar on Janus’ face. “I had just wanted the voices to be quiet, but they only got louder-”

“But you have a reason to have voices!” Janus looked back at Patton, who was still crying. “You were hurt! I wasn’t! My voice has always been there, and I’ve never had anything really bad happen to me. I have three amazing boyfriends and the job of my dreams! I don’t have a reason to feel like this! I’m just weak and stupid-”

“Stop.” Patton’s mouth snapped shut. “Just because you don’t have any trauma, does not mean that your voices are any less important than mine. They’re still there, and you came to me because you knew you shouldn’t be alone with just the voice. And the fact that you trusted me enough to come to me and tell me this… It means you're very brave, Patton. And I am honored that you trust me like that. And if you ever need me to help distract you from those thoughts, or if you just want to hang out, don’t be afraid to reach out.” He carefully took the icing bag from Patton’s shaky hands. “Now, why don’t we leave these here for a moment? I’ve found that making fun of shitty romcoms can really cheer people up.”

Patton nodded, tears still streaming down his face. “That sounds like fun.”

They entered the living room, and Janus suddenly realized that their clothes were covered in flour and other baking ingredients. “Come with me.” He led Patton upstairs and past his own room to another door. “This used to be Virgil’s room before he moved out, but he keeps a few sets of clothes in here for when he stays over.”

Patton frowned. “Janus, I’m quite a bit… wider than Virgil.” He blushed as he half-heartedly gestured to his own body.

Janus smiled softly. “There’s nothing wrong with that. And besides, Virgil prefers looser clothing, so I’m sure the clothes in here will fit you. Plus, I’m sure Virgil would appreciate seeing you in his clothes.” He saw Patton blush harder and smirked. He opened one of the drawers and picked out a baggy t-shirt and some sweatpants. “Put these on, and be careful of your bandages. I’ll change in my room, and we’ll meet downstairs. We’ll watch romcoms and give each other facials while we eat cupcakes. Does that sound reasonable?” Patton nodded. “Good, I’ll see you then.”

As Janus put on his snake pajamas for the second time that day, he contemplated the man in the other room. Janus had been afraid that Patton was secretly manipulative behind his caring persona, but he couldn’t have been further from the truth. Because under the face of bubbly joy and compassion, Patton was an injured soul, just like Janus.

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Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

Janus looked up from his philosophy book to look at Logan, who was reading a similar philosophy book. The two of them were alone in Janus’ library. Patton and Roman were both working, and Remus had dragged Virgil to some event going on downtown. Janus and Logan had no new information to share (*cough* gossip *cough*) so the two of them were enjoying each other’s company while reading. However, Logan’s phone had just started vibrating. Janus watched from the corner of his eye as Logan read the texts with a small smile on his face before answering.

“Did one of your boyfriends just text you?” Logan jumped slightly, apparently forgetting that Janus was in the room. He shook his head.

“No, it was just Sam. They’re my friend and classmate. I’m sure you’ve heard of Patton’s employee Katherine?” Janus nodded, remembering the stories that Virgil would tell about his interactions with Patton and Katherine (or Kyle, depending on the day). “The two of them have been in a romantic relationship for several years. Sam was just asking me for my opinion on where their next date should take place. They tend to overthink things a lot, and it can be amusing to read their mile-long text about how much they want this to be perfect for Katherine.”

Janus nodded before realizing something. “You said that Sam is also your classmate? I know you go to the local college, but what are you studying?”

Logan blushed. “Astronomy, along with a few classes in public speech and teaching. I wish to work at the local planetarium.”

Janus frowned. “You’re taking those classes, plus you bought a house and Patton’s bakery?”

Logan nodded. “We’ve taken out several large loans over the years. We’ve paid off the house loan and most of the loan for Patton’s bakery, but we’re still paying off the loans for my schooling.” He turned back to the book, and Janus blinked in surprise.

“You do know that we would help you pay for those loans, correct?”

Logan stared for a moment. “But they’re my loans. It’s my responsibility to pay them off. And ever since we started living with Virgil and no longer have to pay for housing, we’ve had more money saved up to pay them off.”

Janus’ eyebrows furrowed. “You deal with the finances too? I assumed that was something Patton dealt with.”

Logan shook his head. “I deal with all of our budgets and our daily schedules. The others tend to forget how much money or energy they are spending, so I have to be the one to ‘reel them in.’”

Janus pressed on. “Along with your college education and your job at the library? How do you have time for anything?” He knew he was a hypocrite for saying this, but Janus needed to know. Was Logan some sort of perfectionist, who needed to be in control of everything? Or maybe he didn’t actually do half of this, and he was lying? No, he couldn’t be lying. Janus was pretty good at telling when someone was lying, and Logan seemed pretty truthful.

Logan sighed. “In all honesty, I don’t. Every moment of my day is mapped out to make life easier for me and my partners. Today was supposed to be used to spend time with Virgil, but I understand he hasn’t had any personal time with Remus lately. Still, their planning was so sudden that I now have nothing to do for the next few hours, and it makes me feel… inadequate.”

Janus nodded, finally understanding. “You feel as though you must use your actions to prove your worth as a person and boyfriend. And when there is no action to be performed, you feel as though you failed. That’s why you keep yourself busy.” Logan nodded, and Janus sighed. “I keep myself busy for a similar reason. I do so to prove that I am more than what I was taught to be. I am a CEO, and a singer, and a friend, and a boyfriend. Not just a conniving snake or a whiny brat. I have a purpose, and I sometimes feel inadequacy when I’m not actively fulfilling it.” He set down his philosophy book, having lost the intention of continuing. “But Logan, you don’t need to spend every moment of your life proving yourself. I know for a fact that you could ask for just about anything, and Virgil would bend over backwards to make it happen. Because he loves you for you, not for your actions or your purpose. He loves you for your intelligence, and your love of sweets, and your desire to debate. He loves the way you scrunch your nose when he says or does something odd. He loves the fond exasperation you have every time he or Patton or Roman show grand displays of affection.”

Logan blinked, his mouth hanging open slightly. “He… does?”

Janus nodded. “Yes, he does. He tells me this almost every day. Every moment he’s not with you three, he’s thinking about you. He’ll go on for hours about how much the three of you mean to him. And Logan,” Logan blinked again. “Just because you like to be busy, doesn’t mean that you can’t rely on others. Physically, mentally, emotionally or financially. Virgil will do anything for you, and I’m willing to pull a few strings for someone who can make Virgil smile as bright as he has been over the past year.” Was Janus being a hypocrite about asking for help? Yes. Did Logan know this? Maybe, Janus couldn’t tell. But it didn’t really matter at the moment, as the two of them shared a smile before turning back to their books. Janus was happy to note that Logan’s posture was much more relaxed, and he seemed more interested in the book.

Janus smiled as he read his book. He had feared that Logan was cold and controlling. But behind his face of diligence and intelligence, Logan was a tired soul, just like Janus.

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“Roman, please tell me those swords aren’t real.”

Roman scoffed, twirling one of the swords in his hand. “No, but they’re authentic enough to be fun to spar with. So, do you wanna spar?”

Janus stared at the swords in Roman’s hands. They looked like fencing swords, with white and black hilts respectively. “And why do you wish to fence with me?” Roman had specifically asked Janus to meet him at Virgil’s house for this. He was the only one home at the time, so it was just the two of them in the backyard.

Roman sighed. “Because no one else would say yes and if I asked Remus he would find a way to turn it into a fight to the near-death.” He smirked. “Besides, imagine how hot you would look to Remus if you could fight with a sword.”

Janus sighed, taking off his coat and hat. “You’re not going to let me say no, are you?”

Roman smiled as he handed over one of the swords. “Nope! Now, here’s what you’ve gotta do.” Roman talked Janus through the proper stances and how to hold his sword.

After a few minutes of practicing, Janus asked the question that had been on his mind for a while. “Roman, where did you find these swords? And how do you know how to fence?”

Roman shrugged. “Since I’m friends with the owner, I’m allowed to keep a lot of the props from our plays. We just finished one that included a fencing scene. The other actress and I were given lessons on how to fence so we wouldn’t hurt ourselves.” He laughed, and Janus suddenly felt a chill go down his spine. “And now that I’ve given you equal footing.” He began moving his sword with much more speed and precision, and Janus struggled to block. Even though Janus knew that the sword couldn’t harm him too badly, seeing Roman like this made Janus’ defences kick into overdrive. “Now is the perfect time to ask about your intentions with my brother.”

Janus struggled to even comprehend the question as he blocked the blows. “What?”

Roman laughed again, letting up for a moment. “You heard what I said. What are your intentions with my brother?”

Janus huffed. “What are your intentions with Virgil?”

Roman smiled as he continued striking with his sword. “My goal is to make my boyfriends feel just as much love as they make me feel. If they ever feel like my love for them is waning or falsified, then I have failed.” He put all of his force into the next swing, and Janus could no longer hold onto his own sword as it was knocked out of his hand. “But you dodged the question. What are your intentions with my brother?”

Janus then realized something. “You’re his next of kin.”

Roman frowned tilting his head. “Yes? What does that have to do with your intentions?”

Janus sighed, nearly slouching with relief. “My family has always been a stickler for traditions. While most of those traditions are homophobic or mysogynistic, there are a few that still mean a lot to me. One of them is getting permission from parents. All of my family is dead, so I only needed permission on Remus’ side. I told his parents of my intentions, but I was unable to get their permission. I’ve been spending the past few weeks wondering what I would do since I didn’t have their permission, but the two of you essentially disowned your parents. So naturally, permission would go to next of kin-”

“Janus!” Janus’ eyes snapped to meet Roman’s, and Janus suddenly realized that he was hyperventilating. “Look at me. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Match my breathing.” Janus forced himself to calm as he matched Roman’s breathing. Why was he so nervous? He had been completely calm and collected when talking to Mr and Mrs Prince. So why was this so much more special?

Because Remus cares about Roman. Virgil cares about Roman. Roman had the ability to take away everyone that Janus had.

“Janus, look at me.” Janus tried to focus on Roman’s voice. “I know you’d never intentionally hurt my brother. Whatever you’re trying to say, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just calm down, collect your thoughts, and let it out.”

Janus did just that. He took a deep breath, collected his thoughts, and let it out. “I’m asking for permission to marry your brother.” There was silence. Janus tried to figure out what Roman was thinking, but his face was impassive. “Roman?”

“Does Remus know?”

Janus swallowed before shaking his head. “No, Remus doesn’t know. I’ve been worrying myself out of my mind for a while now. Besides, the four of you have provided enough chaos over the past few months. I wanted to wait until things calmed down before proposing.”

Roman pressed the tip of the sword to Janus’ neck. “If you so much as think about hurting Remus, I will make you suffer a pain worse than death. I just got my brother back, and I’m not losing him to anyone.”

Janus closed his eyes. “If I ever hurt Remus in any way, I would wish for nothing more than to suffer for eternity.”

There was a moment of silence before the sword was removed. A hand was put on Janus’ shoulders and he suppressed a flinch. “I trust you.”

Janus’ eyes snapped open to meet Roman’s. His face showed nothing but compassion, a big difference from Janus’ shock. “What?”

Roman smiled. “You say you never wish to harm Remus, and I trust you. You have my blessing.” He leaned down and picked up Janus’ sword from the ground. “Would you like a rematch? And perhaps some assistance in proposing?”

Janus gave a shaky smile, accepting the sword. “Yes, to both.”

Janus smiled as he clashed swords with his future fiance’s brother. Janus had assumed that he was aggressive, like he’d shown himself to be in other instances. But behind the face of cockiness and pride, Roman was a protective soul, just like Janus.

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@itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @whatishappeningrightnow @idont-freaking-know @cute-and-angsty-prince @girl-who-reads @count-woe-laf @im-an-anxious-wreck @ent-is-undecisive @shadowylemon @stopthe-presses @the-sympathetic-villain @echo-goes-aaa @everythingisstardust

[thatrandomwriter]

Helpless

Clegg x reader, slaughterhouse rulez

warnings: cursing, making out

I was going to be late. And for my first assembly- this was just my luck. I had lost track of time, and then got slightly (okay maybe more than slightly) lost trying to find where the rest of the students were, but by some happy coincidence, I had managed to finally find the place where everyone was gathered. As I approached, I was intensely relieved to hear their loud chatter, which must mean that no one important had started to speak yet. I hurried in, looking around me to try and figure out where my house was for me to stand with. That was my first mistake- not looking where I was going. The second was bothering to apologise when I walked straight into the biggest arsehole I had ever met.

"Oh- I'm so sorry- I-"

"Don't let me catch you talking to upper sixth again." He sounded utterly disgusted that he was having to speak to me.

I looked up, and saw a face that was so perfectly chiselled it annoyed me. What did shitty people do to deserve such amazing bone structure?

"Did you really just refer to yourself in the third person like that?" I managed to match his disgust in my voice, and stared him straight in the eyes, which only seemed to provoke him further.

"You don't speak to me, or even look at me ever again. Understood?"

It was very easy to piss him off.

"Well it's not exactly a privilege looking at you so I'm sure that won't be a problem," I was lying "but I don't think the not talking is going to work for me. After all, you need someone to remind you how much of a dick you are."

I watched the shock grow on his face- clearly he was used to getting his way the first time he asked. But I refused to give him the satisfaction of backing down. For a second, I thought he was about to hit me, but he just managed to restrain himself.

" How dare you? I am upper sixth, and you should start showing me a lot more respect before you get into serious trouble. Understand? "

Before I could reply, a figure in a large block robe entered the room with an entourage of students.

The room fell immediately silent.

Instead of replying, I opted for a silent response, and rolled my eyes pointedly at him.

*

Clegg, as I had later learned his name to be, had not managed to resist making my school life as miserable as possible in the upcoming weeks. I had once thought that perhaps my being a new student would provide me with some reprieve from harsh punishment, but I had been sorely mistaken. Most mornings now, I would be forced to wake up at an ungodly hour to run laps of the grounds with other miscreants, all the while enduring Clegg yelling insults and tormenting us.

And I was finding it increasingly difficult to keep my mouth shut.

"Get moving, you worthless pieces of shit. Come on! Get your fat arses moving, you aren't even trying!"

As a matter of fact, I was trying. Extremely hard. But the muddy terrain made my feet unsteady, and when they slid out from underneath me for what felt like the thousandth time, I finally found myself incapable of standing again.

“Shitting hell,” I cursed, my ankle collapsing as I tried to stand on it, the pain making me go lightheaded.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, stand up you useless idiot,” Clegg spat at me as the others ran ahead and I struggled to stand.

“Just fuck off, would you? I think it’s broken I can’t bloody move.” I glowered up at him. Probably a mistake if I wanted any sort of help.

His face contorted slightly- probably in disgust at the thought of coming near me- before he grabbed my arm to hoist me to my feet.

I was momentarily surprised at his help, having expected to have been left out on the lawns until one of my kinder classmates noticed me missing. But I was glad I had been too surprised to thank him.

Cursing at my stupidity the whole way back, he half lifted, half dragged me to the school. It was less than comfortable, and quite frankly I would have preferred to have been left on the ground.

“Are you always such a massive twat?” My ankle twinged in pain as I stumbled over the front steps, released from his iron grasp.

“Be glad I helped you.” He seemed almost smug, probably finding joy in the obvious pain I was in now I stood without his support, “Come to my dorm immediately after the matron has seen to you. I’ll be arranging a less physical punishment, since you are clearly too pathetic to even handle a jog.” He looked me up and down disdainfully. I rolled my eyes pointedly at him. He scoffed at me, and strode off, leaving me barely upright in the doorway to the building. Absolute wanker.

*

After matron bandaged my ankle- just a bad sprain, as it turned out, I had long missed breakfast. As it was a Saturday, I had no classes and therefore no excuse not to go straight to Clegg’s dorm. It was a meeting I was dreading.

It took me longer than I had expected to limp up a flight of stairs, and I knew as soon as I entered his room I would get an earful for it; at least he had his own dorm so I could at least avoid the embarrassment of being berated in front of an audience.

I knocked twice and he ordered me to come in.

“You took your time. Sit.” He commanded, gesturing to his bed. I perched on the end, not at all surprised to see it perfectly made, and all of his possessions perfectly organised.

“What do you want, Clegg.” I put as much animosity into my voice as was possible.

“First of all, show me some respect. Second- “

I cut him off, “I’ll show you respect when you earn it. You’re pathetic.” I stood up, putting all my weight on my good foot and focusing on not showing the pain I was in even from just resting on my bad ankle.

“I’m pathetic, am I? Well let me tell you something-“ He strode towards me, intimidating me slightly with his height, “You’re nobody. Worth nothing. And you had better start listening to me or I can make things much, much harder for you- it’s not like anyone would even notice.”

I stepped forwards, up in his face. He was trying to scare me and it wouldn’t work. “Are you really threatening me? You’re just a schoolboy. What are you going to do?”

For a second, he froze, staring me in the eyes, waiting for me to back down.

Then he closed the gap between us, kissing me, hard.

For a second, I was in shock. Then I remembered how to respond, kissing him back with as much anger and force as I could muster. He lifted me slightly to shove me against his wall, surprising me by taking care not to let my weight fall on my ankle. His teeth pulled on my lower lip, much harder than necessary but it was clear he knew exactly what he was doing.

I reached up to pull him closer, but one of his hands was quicker, pinning my wrists to the wall above my head.

My head was swimming with confusion that had quickly become overpowered with an aching desire I had never felt this strongly before.

I was helpless against him and he knew it.

“Clegg. You in there?” Meredith Houseman’s voice made me jump, but Clegg remained collected, pulling away only enough to reply “I’ll be with you in a moment.” but still not releasing me from his grasp.

His face was still centimetres from mine. There was nothing I wanted more than to close the gap between us, but with Houseman outside it would have been an exceptionally stupid move.

“Be back here this evening. Don’t be late- and don’t bother wearing underwear.”

For once, I felt no temptation to challenge his authority. I nodded.

He released my hands and ushered me to the door. I turned around and leaned up to press a searing kiss to his lips before leaving, unable to keep a satisfied grin off my face knowing he would be left to explain my presence in his dorm to a rather bewildered looking Meredith Houseman.

[fictophile-sandwich]

Sunshine

Summary:  A romantic rainy day. A policeman's crush. The most amazing female anime character ever. And a little banter. Characters: Okita Sougo x Kagura  A/N: This is my first fanfiction ever. Kindness and feedback appreciated!

The mid-afternoon sun shone brightly. The rain had just stopped and the rosebushes in the park looked like rubies caught in emerald. A young man of 21 was perched on the bench, his head resting back and a sleeping mask over his eyes. He had been sitting there when it started to rain but he felt too lazy to go find shelter. Also, though he wouldn’t admit, he was waiting there for someone.

The sounds of birdsong after the rain had woken him up but he still did not take off his sleeping mask or move at all. Then a certain vermilion-haired girl walked up to him and knocked on his head.

“I knew your head was empty.” She tsked at him. “What are you doing here all wet?”

Silence. He could feel her eyes on his face.

“Are you so tired of your miserable life that you’re trying to catch a terrible cold and die, you poop-faced frog?” Kagura was now shaking his collar, trying to wake him up. “All of this must be enough to have you sneezing bullocks for days. If you don’t dry off soon, you will rot away even before your funeral happens.”

“I’m on duty. I don’t have time to entertain idle violent kids,” he drawled, his mask still on.

“Oh? Of course, all the Shinsengumi ever do in the name of work is take extraordinarily long afternoon naps.”

She slammed him back into his sitting-nap position, placed one foot on the bench, beside Sougo, and added almost as an after-thought, “And I am not a kid. Or idle. Or violent. Well, maybe only a little violent.”

Sougo pushed up his mask and smirked. Yes, this is who he was waiting for. His sunshine. Even though they were always at each-other’s throats and had never had a civil conversation, any day that went by without seeing her felt worthless to him. It wasn’t always like this. When they first met, Sougo couldn’t care less if she ceased existing. But in the three years that they had known, fought, trash-talked and a few times even helped each other (this bit wasn’t consequential though; they both either exaggerated or completely downplayed it to such an extent every time that it never even got spoken about again), she had become an indispensable part of his daily life. Being with her was like breathing – natural and necessary. Her presence distracted him from everything that was wrong with his life and the world. And he was never bored around her.

Sougo wondered why it was that way? Maybe because she ate away at his brain and was harmful to his body like an illicit drug. Well, deep down he did know the real reason. He had feelings for her. But he was sure they would just go away with time. Plus, Kagura probably would be disgusted with that idea, Danna would never let them date, Umibouzu would personally castrate him, the Shinsengumi would all die of shock, he didn’t know how to put his feelings into words and most importantly, he did NOT want to his stupidity and weakness to cost him what he had with her. It was too precious for him, more than his own heart. Oh, and she wasn’t even an adult yet so he couldn’t show her his playroom even if all went right, and the Prince of the planet of Sadists could not accept that.

“You are a kid. You’re sixteen and you can’t even buy your own drinks.” Sougo stared at the afternoon sky. It was the same color as Kagura’s eyes.

She laughed her demonic laughter. “I’m seventeen! And who needs to buy their own drinks if they can get all the foolish perverts of the town to do it for them without doing anything at all!?”

Sougo gave her a sideways glance. He was annoyed at the idea of random people buying her drinks but his talent for keeping his emotions off his face impressed even himself sometimes. She was happily watching Sadaharu mangling a dirty rag.

He went back to staring at the sky lazily. He found it very hard to actually look at her eyes without feeling like his heart was high on weed. “You’ve started acting like a pathetic daily soap heroine so often I wonder if you’re worth considering a rival anymore.”

That’s all it took. As the parasol came down with a swish about to smash his head into pulp, he knew he had successfully provoked her once again. That’s what he always did. He wasn’t really good at communicating and conversations but he excelled at fighting, and talking shit.

He rolled forward and quickly stood out of her reach. “The old you wouldn’t have missed.” He would never tell her how he felt. She deserved better than someone who only knew how to torment people.

“I know you are only trying to provoke me. But damn it if I don’t feel like knocking your teeth out.” She took her fighting stance, her parasol pointing at him, her eyes alight and her lips curved into a sadistic grin. “The Queen of Kabuki-cho is going to beat you up good, roast you alive over campfire and dry you off real good, you jerk.”

Their eyes locked. He felt like she could see through his soul. Like she knew the effect she had on him but pretended not to, just to spare him the embarrassment. Or was it just to mess with him?

He felt a smile forming on his face as he pulled out his katana, “Fine then. Let’s do this.”

Maybe they were meant to be together after all.

P.S.: I realize the legal marriage age in japan is sixteen for girls but I felt uncomfortable writing a romantic fiction for a character any younger. Apologies for the factual errors. 

[gryffindor-glizzy-gobbler]

Out Past Curfew (Pt. 2/5)

“How nice of you to show up..” Draco checked the time, which was posted on a clock nearby above an archway before he glanced back at you with a sneer, “2 minutes later.” 


“Oh I think you’ll live.” You retorted with a folding of your arms, this time positioned lower down your front to cup the underside of your chest. You knitted both of your brows together to give him an unimpressed look, as if that “you’re worthless because you’re late” bullshit was going to make you feel bad about yourself. “Let’s just get this bullshit over with.” You groaned, reaching into your satchel and pulling out a chocolate frog, beginning to snack as you and Malfoy began to walk throughout the halls.

For the first 5 minutes of your stroll, neither of you said anything to each other. You were uncomfortably quiet with him, having absolutely no interest in making ever LIGHT conversation with him. If being school mates with him for the past 5 years has taught you anything, is that being friends with Draco Malfoy is simply a bad fucking idea.

Don’t get it twisted. You’ll admit, at the beginning of the year the idea of being friends with this twit did cross your mind. He used to be cute - back when he wasn’t an ass - and he was popular with the boys in Slytherin. So even if you didn’t end up falling for him, certainly one of his friends could do the job. Blaise was decent looking.

Though as the years went by you watched with horror and utter disappointment as someone with such potential fall so quickly and so rapidly down the drain and into the sewer of becoming an utter prick. You were genuinely baffled on how someone - despite bitchy - as wonderful as Pansy can fall for someone as intolerable as Draco Malfoy. It was shocking how far below her league she was stooping for this blonde weasel of a man.

“Bloody hell- say something, squibby!” It seemed that Draco’s frustration that was steadily growing in response to the silence that occupied the space between the two of you was beginning to surface. “Even though Pansy is intolerable, at least she TRIED to entertain me!”

“You’re such an ass.” You wanted to spit in his face for that comment alone. Sure, Pansy was a raging bitch, that is such a shitty thing to say to someone who is considered her best friend. “Oh there it is.. keep talking to me more, princess. Thrill me.” Draco leaned over a little bit with his hands shoved in his pocket, like you finally talking was an achievement that he had to unlock.

“Go poke your eye out your own wand, why don’t you.” You blustered, whipping the direction of your gaze 180º degrees away from him. He disgusted you. But more so than usual right now. He was toying with Pansy. You knew he was. He liked that he praised the ground that he walked on. He got immense pleasure from the non-stop ass-kissing that she did 24/7.

Oh how much joy would you have if one day she just... stopped.

Stopped obsessing over Malfoy for just a day. Only a day. You would just cream yourself in ecstasy if you could see that blonde wizard prince just crumble from a lack of attention. It would be entertainingly pathetic.

“What the devil are you grinning about?” Draco’s voiced sliced through your thoughts like a knife through butter. Your entire body tensed up and you flicked your attention over at him, and apparently he had been staring at you for the past 30 second and you were just... zoning out.

Dreaming about his demise.

“I guess I am a true Slytherin at heart..” You muttered, and he gaped at you for a moment before scoffing, “You wish you were.” “What am I then?” “You might as well be a Hufflepuff.” “And theres something wrong with that?”


“I can think of a couple things.” He pushed his face really close to yours to emphasize his nasty little point, but when his face was close to yours, for a moment you took in his scent.

“It smells like mint, citrus and...”


“Cologne.”

“Get the hell away from me..” Reality came crashing down on your like an avalanche and you could feel your chest tighten. It’s not him. Every pompus rich boy smells like that... It’s not Draco. Your Amortentia potion had to be playing mind games with you. Maybe yours accidentally switches with Pansy’s.

No, no, no... See- if you paid attention in Potions class enough you’d know.

That’s not how it works.

“Touchy touchy.” Draco seemed amused by your anger, but he nonetheless retreated his neck away from you as he had his hands shoved in his pockets like a total douche bag. A douche bag who just happened to smell just like the love potion that determines what you’re attracted to. You’re not attracted to Draco though, that’s the problem. Maybe his father?

His father’s pretty good looking.


Maybe becoming Draco’s step-mother could be your little revenge that ruins his entire life. Sort of like how he ruined your entire 7 years at Hogwarts. What would life be like without Draco? So much better, that’s what. As you looked extremely irritated due to the conflicting thoughts and emotions tossing and turning in your body, Draco now was beginning to grow... concerned. Which was a foreign emotion for him, especially towards someone he claimed to not care about. To him you were just.. someone to make fun of. You were just his entertainment.

His plaything.

“Do you want to sit down?” He asked, the concern that had mixed into his face now seeping into his voice, which was making you uncomfortable. “No. Let’s walk.” You rejected profusely, but Draco reached over and grabbed your wrist, not quite that gently. His long pale fingers coiled around the bones beneath your hand, and you felt a shock of surprise go through your nervous system as you quickly yanked your hand away from him.

“What’s your problem, Malfoy? I said I’m fine.” “You didn’t say anything. You haven’t said anything. Normally you’re extremely talkative during Potions and D.A.T.D. But today.. you’re awfully quiet. It’s rather annoying. I don’t like being bored. And when my favorite pet can’t entertain me.. I get bored.” “Did you expect me to try to make conversation with you when I came here?” You cocked a brow at him, absolutely baffled on how much of a freak he was.

“Usually you do. Usually you never shut up about me.”

“That’s not true-“ Your face began to burn with embarrassment and anger as soon as those shrivel words left his lips. Is that really true? You do admit you talk about Draco a lot. But that’s because he annoys you! And there’s nobody in Slytherin you find attractive, so who else are you going to talk about. Your arch enemy of course. And Draco Malfoy was definitely your arch enemy.

“Oh it’s very true, squibby. You’re obsessed with me. Utterly and completely obsessed with me.” He extended his arm and reached forward to shove his fingers into your scalp, wringing his long fingers into your hair and yanking your head forward. “Just admit it, squibby. You’re never not thinking about me. I’m on your mind day and night and you’re just embarrassed to admit that you want to fuck me...”

“You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

[aion-rsa]

15 Worst NES Games of All-Time

https://ift.tt/3y1xEdG

The worst NES games of all time are a truly special breed of bad video games. Say what you will about the downsides of the modern video game industry (and there is certainly a lot to say), but there is, in most cases, a baseline standard of quality ensured by better, cheaper technology, experience, and more controlled distribution channels. You may get the occasional indie game that is basically a scam, but when it comes to major releases…well, even Cyberpunk 2077 was pretty good in a lot of ways.

That wasn’t the case during the NES era. At a time when console gaming was basically the digital wild west, it was incredibly difficult to tell good games from bad ones, and developers often exploited that fact to get us to buy titles that refuse to leave the deepest, darkest parts of our nostalgia all these years later.

That’s the thing about these games. Are they among the worst NES titles ever? Absolutely, but years later, there’s something about remembering the pain of playing them and sharing those memories with others that is strangely enjoyable. 

15. Tag Team Wrestling

Even with all of the other bad wrestling games for the NES (and there were many), Tag Team Wrestling manages to stand apart largely by virtue of being fundamentally unplayable in nearly every way you can imagine.

In a dream world where you manage to overcome this game’s all-time bad animations and unresponsive controls, you still have to deal with the fact that there are times when the opponent A.I. difficulty is raised to such a degree that it becomes quite literally impossible to win. If it weren’t for the fact that this game eventually inspired Homestar Runner’s Strong Bad character, it would be entirely worthless.

14. Friday the 13th

There are some who will credit Friday the 13th for being unique and ambitious. We shall not speak their name in this house of truth where we recognize that the Friday the 13th franchise was never scarier than the moment you tried to play this game as a child.

This game’s bewildering map and unforgivable controls were practically designed to eliminate the possibility of fun. It’s easy to love Jason’s weirdly stylish purple jumpsuit in this 8-bit nightmare, but much like Patrick Bateman, no amount of style can hide the monster beneath.

13. Super Pitfall

There’s no shortage of NES games that are difficult to the point of being fundamentally unenjoyable, but Super Pitfall may just be the king of that particular trash heap.

Super Pitfall‘s developers seemed to believe that the reason people love video games is that they offer the chance to listen to repetitive music while dying all the time to obstacles you have little to no chance to avoid. Just in case that level of abuse wasn’t enough to make you love their project, the developers decided to just go ahead and fill their game with essentially invisible items that no sane person would ever find organically despite the fact that they’re required to progress. To it’s credit, this game does recreate the sensation of being trapped in a dank underground cave.

12. Operation Secret Storm

While it almost feels too easy to pick on developer Color Dreams (the studio responsible for many terrible unlicensed NES games, many of which were based on the Bible), Operation Secret Storm is really on another level in terms of all-time bad games.

Even if we can put aside the often blatant racism and bizarre Gulf War storyline, we’re left with a game where control commands are more of a polite suggestion and hit detection is a bug, not a feature. From top-to-bottom, this may be the “best” example of just how bad those old-school unlicensed NES games could be.

11. Where’s Waldo?

You know, it’s pretty amazing that Where’s Waldo? the video game can’t offer an experience comparable to the Where’s Waldo? books considering that the books weren’t exactly the great American novels.

Beating this game will either take you five minutes or 50 years. It really all depends on your ability to determine which of the blurred on-screen figures the game is trying to pretend is supposed to be Waldo. It’s truly impressive that this game manages to botch a concept this simple, but that’s the magic of the NES era. 

10. Back to the Future Part II and III

The first Back to the Future game for NES was bad, but at least it followed basic video game logic in terms of its level structure. Back to the Future Part II and III, meanwhile, somehow beats Primer for the title of “most confusing use of time travel in entertainment history.”

To be honest, I still don’t know what this game expects from me. It’s supposed to offer a time travel adventure that spans the scope of the last two Back to the Future films, but I dare you to play this for more than 20 minutes without feeling tears in your eyes and the words “What do you want me to do?!?!” escape your lungs. If it’s not the most unintuitive bit of 8-bit game design, it’s certainly one of the most unenjoyable.

9. The Adventures Of Gilligan’s Island

There are two things worth remembering about Gilligan’s Island: the theme song and how annoying Gilligan was. To its credit, this game nails both of those elements.

This game is basically the result of escort quests and bad comedy games forming an unholy union. Imagine being dropped into a hedge maze and being forced to endure the constant jeers of the dumbest man you’ve ever met while trying to figure out where to go. Also, your legs are tied together. That’s basically the Adventures of Gilligan’s Island experience. 

8. Bad Street Brawler

It’s tempting to overlook the golden age of beat ‘em ups for their seeming simplicity, but as Bad Street Brawler shows, it’s very much possible for those kinds of games to go incredibly wrong.

Bad Street Brawler was designed to be used with the NES Power Glove, which should probably tell you everything that you really need to know about what it’s like to try to “play” this game. Manage to master its nearly unplayable controls, and you’re left with a beat ’em up with bewildering visuals and fundamentally unsatisfying gameplay that leave you wondering how the industry lasted this long.

Read more

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By Matthew Byrd

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By Matthew Byrd

7. Mario is Missing

Look, there are a lot of bad video games on the NES, but there’s something especially insulting about a terrible Mario game on NES that passes itself off as an educational experience.

This game feels like it was made by a dentist who wanted to give young patients a way to pass the time in the waiting room while also making them less afraid of the impending pain. Nothing in this game makes sense, and the fact it fooled young gamers into thinking it was an actual Mario game makes it that much more infuriating.

6. Ghostbusters

You know, it really shouldn’t have been that difficult to make a respectable Ghostbusters game. Honestly, the only way to go wrong is to pass up the more obvious genre opportunities and try to do something weird and stupid that nobody ever asked for.

As you probably guessed, that’s exactly what we have here. Ghostbusters has the audacity to try to be this strange combination of various gameplay concepts when the fundamentals of controls, visuals, and logical progression so clearly elude it. It’s genuinely hard to believe someone had the chance to make a Ghostbusters video game and came up with this.

5. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

There are some who say that you really need to learn to play this game before you can judge it. The fundamental flaw of that premise is that it assumes that there’s a game here that’s worth playing in the first place.

I genuinely can’t imagine what Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde’s developers were going for when they concocted this unintuitive blend of confusing mechanics, overwhelming (yet unimpressive) enemies, and controls that only seem to work seconds before you convince yourself to give up on the game entirely. You can read every guide about this game that’s ever been written to try to understand how its needlessly complicated mechanics work, and they still wouldn’t answer the one question everyone has about this title, “Why are you like this?”

4. Action 52

It almost feels bad to pick on Action 52 considering that it is an unlicensed collection of 52 small games that were clearly made by underfunded and inexperienced programmers working on a project that legally probably shouldn’t have been “released.” Then again, that’s perhaps all the more reason to make fun of it.

Against all odds, not one of Action 52’s 52 games manages to be even remotely playable. These games would have been embarrassing even if they were released for the Atari 2600, but in the age of the NES, they offered young gamers the chance to quickly realize that the world is full of scammers and they will try anything to part you with your money.

3. Deadly Towers

Every NES gamer has that one game they just couldn’t beat and never seemed to understand no matter how hard they tried. Well, Deadly Towers is all of those games of your respective childhoods rolled into one.

There is not a single aspect of this game that makes any kind of sense that I’m familiar with. Imagine you’re trapped in the maze from the movie Labyrinth, but instead of getting to meet sexy David Bowie at the end, you have to listen to Eric Clapton tell you what’s wrong with your generation. That’s about what’s it like to play Deadly Towers. Even if you bother to learn the game’s structure, you quickly find you don’t want anything to do with the “rewards” that follow. 

2. Dragon’s Lair

How do you take a game like Dragon’s Lair (an innovative arcade experience that combined FMV visuals with QTE gameplay) and port it to the humble NES? Well, if this port is any indication, you…don’t.

I don’t know if there’s ever been another game that inflicts so much pain on its first screen. I’m willing to bet that 90% of Dragon’s Lair players never figured out how to cross that first bridge and actually enter the castle. That’s probably because the solution to that “puzzle”makes no sense and is fundamentally unenjoyable to execute. Those 90% will be happy to know that the game only gets worse from there. 

1. The Uncanny X-Men

Imagine how easy it would have been to make a decent X-Men game for NES. Just take Batman, Mega Man, Castlevania, or any number of the other great NES games, throw some X-Men designs on the whole thing, and you have a game most of us would probably fondly remember to this day.

Infamous NES developer LJN decided to go a different route, though. They decided to make a top-down action game where hit detection is basically non-existent, the music constantly assaults your ears, half of the characters are essentially useless, the graphics are so bad that you quite literally can’t tell where you are or what you’re supposed to be doing, and the AI is useless to the point that I”m pretty sure the in-game characters have become aware of the game they’re forced to exist in and are doing everything in their power to get out.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

There’s no shortage of bad NES games (clearly), but when it comes to wasted potential, this is truly the worst of the worst. 

The post 15 Worst NES Games of All-Time appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[sunaswife]

A Suna Rintarou series

Summary: Suna was the best boyfriend you could ask for, after fighting with your inner demons that screamed you were ugly, worthless, and annoying. You finally decided to go the next step with your boyfriend, only to find out it was all a game.

A/N: PART 17 AND FULL OF SMUT 😌🥵

Warnings: underaged drinking, smut, guys talking badly about women, heartbreak, messed up shit that you shouldn’t do and a bit of fluff if you squint

Disc nine-slide one: Suna Rintarou 🖤

“You look so pretty underneath me, princess.” Suna said lowly as you gripped your white bedsheets. You bit your lip in anticipation as you waited for your boyfriend to stuff you with his cock. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” He said a little louder and lifted your chin with his free hand so you can look into his eyes. They were a shade darker and you could see the lust and desire in his eyes. “R-rin you already made me cum twice. If you keep at it I-I’ll be too tired to have your d-dick in me.”

He sucked in a breath at your dirty words. It was taking everything in him to not shove his cock into your virgin cunt and use you like his own fleshlight. He can already hear your moans. “I’m prepping you. I need you nice and wet. I don’t want you to feel any pain. Only pleasure.” He said and you nodded slowly. His thumb swirled on your clit and you whimpered. “Please Rin, I’m ready. I know I’m ready. Please let me just feel your cock already.” You pleaded and he let out a deep groan.

“For someone who’s never done this before you sure are everyone’s dream girl. Small, innocent, submissive, and a little bratty.” He smirked and your cheeks tinted. “Do you want me to take off my pants or—“ “Let me do it...please.” You asked with your big glossy eyes.

Who was he to say no to you?

He removed himself from over your body and you quickly sat up. Your necklace was shining in the moonlight. Only a few hours ago he gave it to you after the twins left. It had the English letter R for his first name and he helped you put it on. He noticed the small shiver you let out when his fingers grazed over your collarbones and neck. The look in your eyes said you were horny and with a little bit of a push, you told him you were ready.

But sadly he didn’t have condoms. And you weren’t on birth control.

So he quickly threw on his jacket and scarf. He almost tripped putting on his shoes and he ran to the closest convenience store to purchase some condoms. The college girl working rolled her eyes at Suna’s panting form. His lungs were burning by how cold it was outside and all for a box of condoms. After he paid he didn’t even get his change and he ran back to your house as quick as his long legs could take him.

He quickly unlocked your door with your keys and he entered the warm home. He smiled slightly and fantasized about how in a few years time you both would have a home like this. With your own rugrats running around. Even though he can’t stand them, he’d ring up the twins and ask them to babysit so he can have some alone time with you. When he finished taking off his his shoes and other winter clothes he wore, he practically ran up the stairs and opened the door in your room to see you sitting in the middle of your bed in just your underwear and his Volleyball Jersey.

He quirked up an eyebrow. Since when did you take his jersey? But then he remembered that you came over the week prior and probably took it without him noticing since the team didn’t have any games lately due to the snowy weather. “I-I thought you might like it..” you said quietly as you fiddled with the hem of the shirt.

“I don’t like it.” He deadpanned and you looked away embarrassed.

“I love it.”

He breathed out and your ears barley caught it. When you turned to look up, the door was already slammed shut and his lips were on yours. He first asked for desert and ate you out and regretted not asking you to allow him to do this a while back.

You tasted so sweet.

It was intoxicating.

You tugged his hair and subconsciously pushed his face even closer to your sex as you came. He could still hear the continued prayer of his name dripping off your tongue. He then hovered over you and began kissing your lips once more. He wanted you to taste yourself on his tongue. His sinful words made your thighs clench together but he sneaked his hand in between and began using his fingers to prep you for his dick.

And now here you were, being such a good girl for him. Making you cum twice was worth it because you finally had a taste of this world and the way you acted after, so desperate and touch starved made his dick even harder. You began unbuckling his belt and the buttons of his jeans and he quickly kicked them off his legs.

He heard you gulp as your gaze focused on the large bulge behind his boxers. Your legs clenched together again and he couldn’t stop his stupid smirk. “What? Is my princess so mesmerized by my dick she forgot it’s hers?” He asked and you looked up at him once more.

“Mine? As in...I can do whatever I want, right?” You asked and he gave you the nod of consent. Your slightly shakey hands touched his abs with a small amount of pressure to push his back down against the bed and they lowered to the waistband of his boxers. Without wasting any time you pulled them down and you gasped at the sight of your boyfriends cock.

“How the fuck is that going to fit in me?” You asked and he chuckled. “That’s why I prepped you baby.” He said softly and grabbed your hand. You let him guide you to his hard on that pressed against his stomach and you couldn’t believe this is what you made Rin feel. He sighed and you saw him close his eyes when your hands gripped his cock as you moved your hand up and down. Your thumb grazed over his pink slit on the tip and he hissed. His eyes didn’t open as he was enjoying this hand job. You carefully moved back a bit and bent down to the eye level of his shaft.

You wanted to repay him for how he made you feel earlier so you kitten licked his tip and he gasped and immediately gripped your hair. “Princess..are you seriously going to give me a blowjob? The hand job is enough.” He said and looked down. You did look hot with your ass in the air, his fingers tangled in your locks with your glossy eyes looking up. Instead of answering, you gave him a small smirk and opened your mouth to take him all in while maintaining eye contact and he wanted to cum then and there.

“Fuck—princess. You’re gonna be the death of me.” He said and you giggled on his dick, sending vibrations. You obviously weren’t perfect since it was your first time and he used his hand to guide you up and down and your ears perked up when he came closer and closer to his high. He let out a loud groan as he came in your mouth. You cleaned him good so he wouldn’t dirty his Jersey with warm cum.

“You’re such a good girl. You know that right?” He said as his chest heaved up and down. “Only for you.” You smiled sweetly and kissed the side of his jaw, your lips moved to his neck and you felt him harden again in your hand when you gave him a love bite. “Can you go inside me already? I think I waited long enough. I’m dripping everywhere.” You said in his ear and before you knew it, you were pinned down. His fingers laced with yours as he slowly entered his dick into your dripping cunt.

“Princess, you’re so tight.” He sighed and looked up to see you in tears. “Baby whats the matter?” He said worried and he stopped “D-don’t stop. I’m just really excited and nervous so I’m crying. Keep going, please.” You begged and he nodded and continued the slow torture. You lifted your legs and you wrapped them around Rin’s lower waist and you used your feet to pull Rin closer. You thought he was already all the way in because of how full you felt but you didn’t and you practically shoved him inside your virgin hole and there was a sting of when he ripped your hymen.

You both gasped as you held on to his biceps and he gripped the sheets beneath you. He was finally all the way in. He asked if you were alright and you nodded and quietly asked for him to start moving. He gave you a soft kiss over your tear and he rolled his hips slowly so you could get a feel.

Your sounds of tiny gasps, moans and squeaks encouraged him to quicken his pace. You were a moaning mess below him and he was in awe. His Jersey was long gone as well as the shirt he was wearing. The golden R rested between your beautiful breasts and he was on cloud 9. How can someone look so innocent yet so dirty at the same time? His head lowered and he whispered praises in your ear of how well you were taking him and how proud he was if you. He kept repeating how beautiful you looked. He kissed the side of your neck and licked your collarbone. His teeth bit the chain and he lightly tugged causing you to open your eyes to meet his predatory gaze.

“Fuck princess you’re so fucking gorgeous.” He whispered as he drank up your messy appearance. He felt himself get close so his thumb immediately went to your clit. Your voiced raised a good two octaves as you repeated his name over and over. You were being too loud to his liking so he removed his thumb and you pouted and gave him a glare. He stopped moving and pulled out. He snorted at your face. “Don’t look at me like that, pet. Just give me a sec.” He said and you almost choked.

Pet?!

He gave you another sexy smirk and moved your left leg over his shoulder. Your pussy clenched over nothing and he was so amused. His tip played with your entrance and before you could whine he pushed all the way in again causing him to literally take your breath away.

He saw the way your mouth opened and nothing came out.

He found your g spot.

He continued to reach that spot over and over again causing your legs to shake and without any warning you clenched around his length and you both simultaneously came at the same time.

You held on to his back, you definitely left scratch marks and bruises on his biceps. You both took a moment to catch your breaths and after a good two minutes he slowly pulled away and immediately fell beside you. He rested his head on your bare chest since it was second nature and you both pillow talked and he asked how your first experience felt. You answered honestly about how much you loved it and not long after you both fell asleep.

Leaving the unopened box of condoms forgotten under your bed.

Previously

Up next

Masterlist

A/N: First time ever doing smut so if it’s shit don’t @ me like that one bitch lol

A/N pt. 2 I posted a teaser/spoiler of the sequel here in case you wanna see it 👉🏽 🖤

these are some questions I answered regarding it. It’s a lot of information regarding Y/N during and after the timeskip and it’ll make more sense when I finally release the sequel 👉🏽🤍

🏷: @therealwalmartjesus @differentballooncollection @aaesuki @atsunflower @dope-squish @prettysetterboiss @june-phantom @tomo-uwu @austriasmariazelle @xrnia @katsulia @aprettyfruit @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @tvbiio @sun-daddy-yoriichi @kamenoyaki @ppangiiroo @loeyprivvv @kmskj92 @lovinnoya @tris-does-stuff @mokkeguts @sunaluvr6969 @bara-rose-would @sempiternal-amour @volleybloop @leykyuu @bokutoichigo @stfucanunot @tpwkatsumu @ohshirabu @shoutosimp @mqrinqcele @bokutosdivineass @anngelllla @toworuu @hidden-otaku-stuff @seijohiselite @caxsthetic @aquariarose @hhwanggu @bakuhoetoedoroki

[ootori-sibs]

Kyoya's second shot

Episode four: Read all about it!

The newspaper was out first thing in the morning, and Kyoya was reading over it when Tamaki walked into the classroom. He silently glanced over, handing him the newspaper with an expression that expressed nothing but pity. Tamaki frowned as he took the newspaper, eyes widening at the headline. Just as Kyoya expected, Tamaki was deathly silent as his eyes scanned over the article, again and again, until the words lost all meaning. A quick glance around told him that everyone in the classroom had their eyes on the king, waiting for his reaction.

When he realised the words weren't going to change, he looked up at Kyoya, voice dry, "do you believe this..?" He wasn't just asking Kyoya, he was asking himself, but Kyoya would answer for both.

"I'm not sure," he began, doing his best to feign innocence, "her and Haruhi have always been quite close don't you think? Although Renge does seem a little too boycrazy, despite her previous crush on Haruhi…" he was telling the truth, but putting his trust in Renge still left Haruhi with the burden of blame. Tamaki didn't seem to realise that, humming in thought before smiling.

"I trust Haruhi! The newspaper club is always full of lies, you're right." That… was not what Kyoya had said at all, but he supposed it was typical of Tamaki to make his own conclusion that was vastly different from the one Kyoya wanted him to come to. Where was this distrust in the newspaper club when they were trying to expose the club?

When they walked through the corridors, and sat in every class, students wouldn't stop looking at Tamaki, they were gossiping, most believing the newspaper. Even when reaching the club room, the other hosts were nose deep in the article, the twins glanced up when Kyoya and Tamaki entered.

"Boss! You won't believe the nonsense the newspaper club came up with next!" They and Haruhi are reading from the same newspaper, looking extremely annoyed, even Renge is in the room, reading her own copy. Tamaki sighed, approaching the table the twins were sat at, having already read it but wanting to hear the twins perspective. "Just listen to some of the things these people say; 'as she has been known to seduce women beforehand, it isn't too much to assume she would have the manager under her thumb too', like what the fuck??" Hikaru laughs at the stupid lines, Kaoru less so, "but people are believing it…"

Haruhi sighed, "at least it's not as bad as yesterday… they're not attacking me directly." The hosts all looked to her in confusion, this was exactly what Kyoya had meant, she was a commoner, she cared not for image. She seemed confused by their confusion, "I mean, it's just a stupid rumour isn't it? Not like anyone with any sense would believe it." Oh and that got Tamaki hurt, the poor dear looked embarrassed but so very relieved.

"Didn't we threaten them about covering any of us in articles, Kyo-chan?" Honey-senpai spoke up, looking over at him, ah yes, Kyoya remembered that well.

"You threatened them??" Tamaki started, quickly being shushed as Kyoya raised his hand to his face.

"We asked him not to cover Tamaki or the club in general I suppose, the newspaper club hasn't actually broken any sort of agreement. I suppose they simply found a loophole." He shrugged, heading towards his table when Tamaki grabs his arm.

"Then make it part of the agreement." He spoke slowly, clearly, commandingly. Kyoya felt his face heat up as he looked into the burning purple eyes of the king, oh, oh yeah, this was why Kyoya was doing this. He nods quickly, adjusting his suit.

"I-" he coughs, trying to keep his composure, "of course Tamaki, my mistake, I'll get right to it." He hurried out of the club room as fast as he can, trying not to instantly melt.

In the hallway, he leant against the wall, fanning his face and mentally kicking himself for getting so unbelievably flustered, they were going to realise how in love he was! He's so stupid! Why does he get flustered easier when he's unstable?? It's the stupidest thing!! He huffs and slowly calms himself down, it's ok, it's all ok, nothing to worry about. He's just going to talk to Akira, then he's going to return and act like he fixed everything.

He strolls over to the newspaper club room slowly, leisurely, it wasn't like he needed to rush. It was quite a nice day, sunny, clear, he hoped it would be just as nice tomorrow, he and Tamaki would be outside that day, he didn't want it to be bad weather. However the idea of it raining, and possibly of them sharing an umbrella… Kyoya wasn't one for clichés, but that image made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He wondered if Tamaki would think to bring one? Maybe he should bring one and simply lie, saying he forgot. Tamaki was too smart for that, he'd see straight through Kyoya, he always had to be careful how he lied in front of the king.

He reached the door of the newspaper club, knocking politely, he waited for an answer. One of Akira's little friends answered, looking first surprised, then scared to see Kyoya, the poor boy shaking in his boots. "We...we were told we had permission! You can't get mad at us!" Ah, be thought Kyoya was here to carry out the king's orders.

"I'm here to see Komatsuzawa, is he there?" He raises an eyebrow, peering inside the room. He appears for the most part, perfectly civil, and he knows this stupid lackey will let him past without second though, and he's quickly proven as the boy steps aside.

Akira is sitting at his desk, revelling in the boosted sales of his latest newspaper, just staring at his computer with great joy. He glances up when Kyoya walks in, panicking for a moment before bowing his head in respect and sitting up straight. "Ootori! What a surprise! Is there anything you need?" His eyes show fear, Kyoya can almost see the texts he'd sent pass before the man's eyes, no guilt, but fear for consequence.

"Tamaki isn't too pleased about your latest article." Kyoya speaks slowly, but with the tone of business, "the hosts believe you've voided the agreement made last year… I'm not as inclined to agree." He saw Akira breathe a sigh of relief at that last comment, rolling his eyes as he continued. "However," all three boys staring at him look once again nervous, "I've been ordered to make sure you know not to publish another article about Haruhi," he walks over, sitting on the edge of the desk, crossing his legs. "So I'm just going to have to figure out another loophole, any ideas?"

"Uhh… well, he didn't say anything about the other hosts?" Akira offered, clearly very on edge.

"That wouldn't help us at all, your job isn't to hurt the hosts, it's to drive Haruhi away from Tamaki." He sighs, "I suppose we could go after Renge… but that would be unnecessarily cruel…" He frowns, he can't really see any way to reasonably bypass the threat that had been made. Kyoya feels stuck in this method, he can't see any way to continue to use the newspaper to his advantage, Tamaki- damn that beautiful idiot, has backed him into a corner. He groans, getting up off of the desk. "It seems your use to me has expired…"

"What? What does that mean?" Akira seems to be still on edge, but Kyoya's words panic him. Kyoya turns to face him, staring down at the frightened man with cruel eyes.

"God, you're a dick Akira." He had to say it whilst he had this power. "But don't worry, you could still be used," he wanted to make it clear that he did not see the guy was an equal, but an object to be used, "you will remain on the council, but you won't be doing much, try and make yourself useful would you? I won't do all the heavy lifting." He scoffs, heading to the door.

He could almost sense the trio of idiots shaking in their boots behind him, so this was what an Ootori's influence truly meant, it was good, Kyoya felt powerful. He must really be growing into his name. "Oh," he pauses, hand on the door, peering back at Akira, "feel free to take liberties with any loopholes you do find, as long as they don't hurt my cause." With that, he left the room, leaving the newspaper club to interpret his words how they liked.

He felt he'd done well today, it was still only morning too. He headed back to the music room, a little more purpose in his step then before. He was thinking about the authority that his father commanded, the way his brothers could threaten someone's entire livelihood with just a glance… was that the power he was feeling in the newspaper room? Was that how he commanded the council so much better in person? It felt, so very very good. Maybe he'd go mad with power, that sounded like fun- he was going mad anyway, might as well make it worth his time. He sighed, brushing his hair into order with his fingers and adjusting his glasses.

When he returned to the club room, the session had already begun, Kyoya sighed, nodding towards Tamaki silently to communicate that his duty was done. He sat at his table, beginning to work on the finances, there's never anything he really needs to do, but if he has the numbers up on his screen, the hosts don't question him not wanting to talk to the guests. In reality he was just extremely gay and extremely not into talking to people in general, he just didn't enjoy small talk in the slightest.

10:45 - The article came out and a lot of people believed it. Tamaki made me go and threaten Akira again. The newspaper club is practically worthless now, but I will keep them around to threaten the others with. I'm sure he can write a few good exposés.

Kyoya could overhead gossip from here, it wasn't much, but it was all he needed. The guests were asking hosts if they knew if it was real, each and every one of them told the ladies the article was lies and slander. The most interesting thing to Kyoya however, was the fact that Haruhi kept staring into space, clearly in deep thought. She didn't seem upset though, so he wondered what that possibly could be about.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Unfortunately he was pulled out of his thoughts by Renge hopping up and sitting on his table, she'd cropped the dress shorter, and he could see a new pair of boots under it, a matching pink colour to her bow. He could appreciate the colour coordination, it brought away from that awful dress too- so that was good. He looked up at her, watching her expression closely.

"The club's budget, clearly." He spoke slowly, dragging out his words, he cared not for the annoyance that was the club manager. She didn't manage shit.

She frowns at him, crossing her arms. "Don't lie to me Kyoya, I have access to the club's statistics, remember? You haven't made a single edit since last night." Oh, she was smarter than she looked, Kyoya sighed, adjusting his glasses. "So what are you thinking about?"

"That newspaper article mostly," he was telling a half truth, wondering if he could make this a beneficial conversation, "any truth to it at all? I know you liked Haruhi."

Renge went slightly pink, Kyoya hadn't been expecting that. "Well, I mean- Haruhi is really cute and nice and sweet and… but she's happy with Tamaki, I'd never pursue a taken person." She pauses, looking slightly sad, before giggling. "I'm sure you know all about that, eh Kyoya?" It was Kyoya's turn to go pink, under his makeup at least. How had Renge seen through him like that?? She was an otaku and an idiot.

"Yes, well," Kyoya adjusted his blazer, refusing to meet Renge's eyes, "it seems the two of us have the same wish, it's a shame we have our morals in order." Regrettably Renge seemed to have the same moral compass as Haruhi, otherwise she would be a wonderful addition to the council. Arai might be a little more useless than previously anticipated.

She chuckles at that, "for once, you're the good guy!" She sighs, patting him on the head condescendingly, "I'm sure it'll be fine, you'll move on pretty fast, don't worry about it." She was so nice, but her words served only to cut Kyoya down, his morals weren't in order, he wasn't a good guy, it wasn't going to be fine… he could never move on.

It really didn't take long for the school to realise that the newspaper was lying, they were all set to believe Tamaki over Akira. Kyoya could understand that, Akira was a piece of shit. But Kyoya himself had spent the rest of the day just sat at his table, just watching the council argue in the group chat, he was slightly concerned at the number of swear words and slurs thrown around in front of poor Chika, but it wasn't like Honey would ever find out. After a while of watching them squabble, he decided to say what was on his mind.

Shadow king: You're fairly useless Arai.

Peasant: what?

Shadow king: Why don't you put yourself to use?

Tomorrow is a Saturday, I will be out for the day with Tamaki, meaning he will be busy.

Why don't you go and spend the day with Haruhi? Come on to her a little.

Then tell us how it goes.

But don't mention Tamaki at all, you don't know, remember?

Peasant: uhhh ok? Ig?

Woman: It sounds like you're finally making progress Ootori, is that a date?

Shadow king: Oh, well it's only a' business trip' for a future club theme… but there will be an attempt to make progress.

Woman: I see, well I wish you luck nonetheless. As someone who has slight experience with attempting to seduce South, I suggest subtly, he wasn't too keen when I came onto him.

Shadow king: Well you're certainly not his type, you're too… mature in nature, and way too feminine.

Child: doesn't he never shut up about that commoner wearing pretty dresses and stuff?

Shadow king: Yes, of course. But compare a nice light airy dress to what Eclair was wearing at the festival- she dresses like a wh*re.

Woman: You are so fucking rude, Ootori.

Shadow king: That may be so, but I'm not incorrect.

Sorcerer: Forgive me Ootori, but I don't think a member of the host club really has any grounds to call someone such things.

Kyoya just leant back at that, he'd gotten over the club being called stuff like that the first year it was founded. It was kind of stale at this point, besides, everyone could see how good of a club it was. Nekozawa respected them, he's just always been one for technicalities. He was sort of watching the last session of the day go down, he'd apparently zoned out completely during the one at lunch, and most of his lessons, he just hoped he'd done the work.

He was tired when he got home, even if he hadn't really done anything. Luckily none of his family were home, so he could relax in whatever room he wanted. He made the decision to sneak into his father's office, looking over the paperwork left there lazily, oh, he was having a business meeting with Mr Souh soon, that could come in handy. Nothing else on the desk interested him much, so he turned to the alcohol in the office, looking at the flask, the decanter, and the various bottles. He looked them over, he already had a flask he'd stolen, so he could just refill it. He pondered for a moment what he should have, deciding on a bit of that expensive looking vodka, he'd never had vodka before. Oh and father had so many bottles of it, surely he wouldn't notice if one went missing, he swiped it, tucking it into his bag before retreating to his room.

He sat on his sofa, drinking from the flask silently, he was definitely planning to go for a new makeup look, but he had no clue where to start. He looked on his phone, going through look after look after look, none of them seemed like anything that Tamaki would enjoy and anything Kyoya could pull off. It was beginning to dawn on him that he didn't know the first thing about makeup, he could only do one face. He was going to need help… and he hated having to ask for help. It made him feel inferior, hopeless, and overall just useless. He took a gulp of that vodka, the alcohol burnt the back of his throat unpleasantly but the slight buzz it gave him was more than worth it, he might be a slight lightweight but he was underage, so it was permissible.

A maid had come to fetch him, and he quickly hid the bottle and the flask under the sofa. She told him his father was expecting him in his office, and he felt a chill down his spine, buzzed or not, he understood that if father was mad at him, that wouldn't be good. So he stood, breathing deeply for a few moments in an attempt to clear his head, then headed to the office.

When he got there he realised both his older brothers were there as well, looking confused and slightly anxious, he gave them a curt nod, smiling softly. Akito frowns, putting a hand on Kyoya's shoulder. "Are you alright? You look flushed." It took Kyoya a moment to process his brother's words, ok, maybe he was a little more than buzzed…

He nodded, smiling up at Akito, "yeah, just… tired." Kyoya wondered if either of his brothers actually believed him, but Akito nodded nonetheless.

Their father stood with his back to them, a small whiskey glass in hand. He sighed and turned, taking his seat. "One of you knows why I've called you here, I'll give you a moment to decide if you're going to admit to it." He went silent, looking at the three boys with patient but clearly annoyed eyes.

The trio glanced at each other, the two older brothers didn't have any clue as to why their father was talking to them at this moment, Kyoya knew, but he was trying to pretend like he didn't have a clue- just looking up at his brothers with blank eyes.

Yoshio sighs, massaging his temples. "Alright boys, let me explain why you're here," he turns with his chair slightly, gesturing to the shelves of alcohol, "notice anything?" He doesn't even give them a chance to respond, putting his hands neatly on the desk and looking at them with a level gaze. "One of the bottles of vodka is missing, which one of you took it?"

The three brothers look at each other, Kyoya was doing his best not to meet their eyes, but it seems that was quite counter productive. "It's very clearly Kyoya, he's literally drunk." Akito spoke bluntly, gesturing to Kyoya who turned and glared at him, how could he tell??

"I am not." He speaks just as blunt as his brother, but in complete indignation, "you're the one that keeps going to parties."

Yoshio sighs, frowning, "Kyoya, you do look a little feverish, is there a reason for this?"

"I have had a very long day," the truth, Kyoya had indeed had a long ass day, "and I would like to go to bed," also the truth, he's absolutely exhausted. For affect he rubs his eyes, blinking lazily at his father. "Besides," he knows his role, and he knows he can still use it to his advantage, "I can't even drink yet Akito, I'm only seventeen…"

There it is, his innocence proven by simply playing into his age. Yoshio sighs, "as long as you make sure everything you have to do for school is finished you can go and take a nap if you want, Kyoya. Thank you." He waved his hand to dismiss his youngest, turning to Akito to berate him for starting on his 'baby brother'.

Kyoya smiled victoriously, heading out of the office and returning to his room. Pulling out his phone to text Fiyumi.

Sweet Bby bro 🥺: Fiyumi can I ask a favour?

Fiyumi: Of course you can! Xxx what do you need? Xx

Sweet Bby bro 🥺: I need mkeup help can you come over tomorrow morning?

Fiyumi: OF COURSE!!! I'd love to help you with your makeup! Xxx what's the special occasion Kyo? Xx

Sweet Bby bro 🥺: Nothing too special Im just having a day out tomrrow and thought I might as well go for a new look but Ive got no idea where to beginn

Fiyumi: 🥺💖! I'll be over first thing tomorrow! Don't worry, I've got you! Xxx

Kyoya sighs, taking another sip from the flask, typing was a lot harder when he was inebriated. Not to mention he knew exactly what Fiyumi had set him as in her contacts and that it just made his texts look even dumber. He layed back on the sofa, did he have anything he actually needed to do tonight..?

[agustdomain]

sorry I’m a bad boy

unrequested drabble about the bad boy back in town, aiming to keep his promises to his girl. Is it too late?

Warnings: Language, Suggestive content

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

“You know who’s looking for you, right?” 

Your friend was fresh with youth, it seemed. That, or ignorance. All day, everyone you came across in this nosy ass town buzzed about you like bees, the same name filling your ears. You didn’t expect your best friend to be just another bee attracted to the honey. 

“Yes, I know. Yes, he’s back in town. Yes, he’s looking for me. No, I don’t care.” That was a lie, but you needed to put on a brave face. You hadn’t seen Changbin in six months; the least you could do is pretend you didn’t care.

Rosé gave you that famous look of hers, the one that told you she knew exactly how afraid and lost you were feeling. “Seems like you’ve heard that way too much today.”

“I have.”

“Why don’t we get out of here then?”

And that’s how, instead of going to your 4:30 class, you skipped it to grab a burger and fries with your favorite person on Earth. You know it was only a matter of time before Rosé stopped being generous by filling the silence. Her fidgeting was her tell: she was dying to know where your mind was at. 

How were you supposed to feel when the boy you were in love with your entire life reappeared after months of being M.I.A.?

His stupid promises filtered into your head as you drowned one fry in ketchup, dunking it over and over as each sentence rolled through your head. 

I’ll come back for you. 

I’ll always love you. 

I’m always going to be bad for you, don’t forget that. 

I might be leaving, but I’ll never leave you. 

You can trust me. 

I won’t ever change. I promise that. 

Sorry I’m a bad boy. 

You scoffed aloud, your attention finding the fry that had long been broken in half. How symbolic.  

“Do you think… he knows about you and Jisung?”

You gave her an unamused look. “What’s to know? I don’t like Jisung like that.”

Rosé bit into her burger and chewed slowly before saying, “Yeah, but you know Jisung is going around telling everyone you’re his girlfriend.”

You knocked your head back and groaned. “I told him to stop doing that shit! I’m not going to date him.”

“Yeah, well, he’s delusional. Has been since we were kids.” Rosé really looked worried about you, and because of that you couldn’t look at her. She added, “Chances are, he’s heard about it.”

“Of course he has. In this shithole of a town, gossip travels fast,” You felt bad for calling your home that, but you were in a bad mood and it doesn’t mix well with the familiarity of a small town. 

Rosé looked thoughtful again as she sipped from her soda before her eyes grew wide, “Oh my gosh. This isn’t good. They hate each other.”

“I know.”

“Once Changbin hears, he’s going to go apeshit. And when Jisung hears he’s back, he already knows he lost you to him. It’s a lose lose.”

“Why would he care? He’s the one that left me in the first place.”

You ignored her disapproving look, wanting to wallow in your despair. She never let you have your moments, though.

“You know that’s not true. The two of you were absolutely in love. He would travel the galaxy for you. You said it yourself, the only way he was going to escape bad influences is if he left.”

“But…” It bubbled over then, and you hated it. You thought you had escaped it, had managed to chase it away. It had only settled and waited until it was time to erupt. “But he said he wouldn’t leave me. He said he was leaving, but vowed to keep in contact with me. He said it would be like he never left. Tell me why I haven’t gotten one phone call, one text. Nothing. I mean nothing to him.

“He commanded my heart with the flick of his wrist. I was played by him, and I should’ve known better!” By now, you were yelling, your face red and the burger joint silent, likely eavesdropping to spread your outburst across town. “Changbin is nothing but a walking cliché. A stupid bad boy who had nothing better to do than go around seeing how many hearts he could break. Worthless promises, nothing but worthless words from his mouth. Am I supposed to jump for joy now that he’s back? Please, I’d rather date Jisung than face his bullshit again.”

Rosé stared for a moment, her mind working to figure out how to make things right. She couldn’t, but you loved her for trying. Slapping money down on the table, she grabbed your wrist. “I was wrong. Your favorite meal isn’t enough to cure this despair. Let’s go.”

Tugging you out of the burger place, complaints fell past your lips, not really paying attention to your surroundings. Coming to an abrupt stop in front of you, you slammed into her. 

“Hey! What’s your problem-” Stepping around her, the reason became as vivid as the figure in front of you. Sleek black Impala parked, the same one you had spent way too many nights in doing way too many unspeakable things. Leaning up against its trunk, the boy with all the promises he couldn’t keep, his eyes shining as he looked at you. 

Was his hair darker, or was your memory poisoned? Were his eyes warmer? His clothing was just as dark as you remembered, though he looked a lot more filled out. 

He was perfect. Still, he managed to wring your insides tight, making it hard to breathe. If possible, it hurt even more seeing him now than it did when you had to watch his back as he walked away from you the last time. 

“Y/N.”

“Let’s go, Rosé,” You thought you were in control. Quickly, you realized you weren’t.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Your heart dropped as you saw the apologetic look on your best friend’s face, “He convinced me to bring you here. I think it’ll be good to talk to him. I’ll be inside.”

The betrayal that twisted your heart stung your eyes. Really, you knew it was because you couldn’t handle being around him again. All these months, you ached to smell his scent, his body wash and him. You wanted to smell that stupid air freshener in his car, hear that stupid CD he replayed over and over. You wanted him. 

Now that he was here, you wanted everything but. 

You closed your eyes as the streetlights shut on, his heavy footsteps nearing until they stopped in front of you. Was your mind playing a trick on you or was his actual scent reaching your nose? The tears spilling from your closed eyes were embarrassing, so you squeezed your eyes tighter. Clenched fist, aching heart, crickets crying for their mates, you wished deeply this wasn’t happening. 

It was too soon for you to realize all you wanted was to fall into his arms.

“Oh Y/N,” No. He wasn’t allowed to be in pain. Who gave him the right to waltz back in and out whenever he wanted?

You flinched when his fingers brushed a tear away. Peeking to see his hurt expression, you turned away. “What do you want, Changbin? Come to laugh in my face?”

His face scrunched up from the corner of your eye. “No. That’s bullshit and you know it. You know why I’m here.”

“Why?” You faced him, courage slowly but surely building as your eyes trailed to meet his. His courage faded as he stepped back, resolve crumbling as he had to stare the outcome of his actions in the face. “You think I’m just going to accept you back with open arms? You think I’m going to come running when everyone tells me you’re back? Jumping for joy?”

He was frowning but you continued, needing to or else you would implode. 

“If you’re so big and bad, why are you here? Why aren’t you sporting some brand new girlfriend to rub in my face? I’m sure there was plenty, considering you never reached out to me. How’s that for a cliché? The bad boy makes promises he can’t keep. Well, news flash. I’m not the stupid girl who falls for your lies again.”

“Y/N…”

“And I don’t want to hear any insincere apology that I know you’re waiting to say. You expected me to wait for you. You expected me to hang onto your every word, hang onto this fantasy that you loved me. I’m better than that. I’m better than this.”

“Y/N, would you listen to me?”

“No. You don’t deserve that.”

“Oh, I don’t?”

“There’s nothing you could say that would make this right. So you don’t.”

“How would you know that?” His eyes were narrowed now, annoyed. How dare he.

“Because I do.”

“Stellar answer. Wouldn’t expect anything else from the Hotheaded queen herself.”

Inhaling heavily, you searched your mind for anything to say. Instead, you couldn’t help but swear at yourself as your eyes lingered on his face. He was still as stunning as he was in the past. You were such a fool. And he? A snake. 

“What do you want from me, Changbin?”

At the sound of his name, you caught how he had an intake of breath. You ignored the pang in your chest. Your eyes trailed down. He was still wearing the silver car-wheel necklace you had given him a year ago. You wanted to rip it off. 

“I want to hear your voice.”

You laughed. He ignored you.

“I want to hear every single detail of your days. I want to know what shows you’ve been watching, what music you’ve been listening to, if you continued on using that detergent you decided to try out. Are you still using the same body spray? How’s Galaxy? She was a kitten the last time I saw her. Bet she’s still causing havoc.” 

Was it a trick of the streetlight or were his eyes glistening?

He stepped closer, you looking down at him from the edge of the pavement. He was in the road, blocking a parking spot but that was the least of his concerns as he stared up at you. Laughing forcibly, you held your breath as his fingers cautiously skimmed the back of your hand. You let him.  

“I want to lie next to you again, watch the expressions you make when you sleep. I want you to wake me up in the middle of the night and pepper my face with kisses when you have a bad dream, and hug me from behind when you know I had one myself. I want to hear your laugh. I want to make your coffee, even though I always mess it up. How many times have you watched Good Will Hunting without me? I know I always complained, but I loved it just as much as you did.”

He was inches away from you now, and you uncontrollably drew closer. He was magnetic, glowing like the angel he was. A few lies from his mouth and he was an angel again. Were they lies? You didn’t know, but you could feel yourself slipping. 

“I told you I was coming back for you. I never left, not really, not when the best part of me is still here. I can’t change who I am, and how I needed to get away to become better. I need to be a better man for you. I did what I had to. I’m sorry for not reaching out to you. I know I can’t make it up to you in a day. I’m bad, always have been. But I did what I had to in order to keep from running back. Trust me, I would have the second I heard your voice.”

How were you supposed to be mad at him when he was speaking to you in that tone, when his fingers were on your skin, when his presence was surrounding you? 

“Y/N,” he sang your name now. That’s how it always sounded, since the moment he introduced himself and stole your heart. You remember when you were fifteen, the first time he really caught your attention in school. How his flirty smile always felt a little different than the others. He really had you since the moment you met.

“Changbin.” Even you were giving in. You couldn’t help it, not when he was this close. This close in six months. 

He waited, hands comfortably on your waist and head tipped up as he looked at you. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, brushing them off before fiddling with his collar. Your fingers skimmed across his neck, and you watched as his lips parted, a look you knew all too well washing over his eyes. 

Heavy lidded, he waited. 

Hands gripping your waist, he waited. 

Your fingers were massaging the back of his neck, thrilled at the same effect you had on him. The heat was closing in, the light fading away as you were washed away by the ocean you were drawn to since you were a girl. 

Just as your lips grazed his, blinding headlights and a car horn startled you out of his grip as you jumped back. Changbin was less affected, annoyed as he looked over his shoulder at the car trying to pull into the spot he currently occupied. You pulled him up onto the sidewalk, but not before noticing the look building on his face as he waited for the driver to get out of his car. He was pissed. 

And you? You were scared. 

You recognized the car all too well. 

“Y/N! I’ve been looking all over for you! I was going to take you home after class!” Jisung was all smiles, but you didn’t miss the lingering look on Changbin. 

“Hey Park. It’s pretty fucking obvious what happened,” Changbin barely waited for Jisung to finish. 

The smile disappeared so fast from the happy boy, it was unsettling. “Was I talking to you?”

“No, but I figured I would do you a favor and spare you the embarrassment. You always manage to make a fool out of yourself.”

Jisung slammed his car door shut. You began sweating, the danger on their faces spurring you into action as you stepped between them. That didn’t break their staredown. 

“I don’t appreciate your attitude. Given the fact that you ran away from home like a little bitch, I wouldn’t go around acting like a tough guy.”

Changbin laughed stepping closer. Placing your hand on his chest, you pressed firmly and waited for him to look at you. His anger disappeared as he regarded you, a lingering sadness swimming in his face. You needed to do something. 

Turning to Jisung, you said, “Jisung, please. Go.”

He frowned. “Are you serious?”

“Don’t make this harder.”

His voice cracked, the pain seeping through. “You’re really going to choose him? After leaving you? Breaking your heart? You’re still going to choose him over me?”

You didn’t know what to say. You wished you could take away his pain. Before you could say anything else, he was in his car and went as quickly as he came. You were in Changbin’s previous place now, facing the parking lot and wondering where your place was in this town. All you had been was a shell of your past self these last few months, and it was all because of Changbin. Is that who you were? Just Changbin’s girl?

No. You were more than that. 

This time, when his hands found yours, you pulled away. You ignored his pain as best you could as you shook your head. “I can’t just forget what you did. You destroyed what we were when you vowed you wouldn’t. You know how hard it was for me to trust you. You used that against me, made me fall in love with you, just so you could shoot me in the heart.”

“I-”

“No. No, Changbin. You’re not who I thought you were. And I’m not the Y/N I once was. And I won’t put myself through that again. I will always love you, but I love myself more. So let me breathe.”

He took a step back, the defenses you had spent years breaking down building up right before your eyes. If you had known how easy it was to keep from loving him, you wonder if you would have gone back in time and stopped anything from happening. 

Figuring it was done, you turned away and headed for the entrance to the burger joint. Just as you reached the door, his words stopped you in your tracks. 

“I wasn’t lying when I told you I would be back for you. And when I knew I had to be a better man for you the next time I saw you. I’ll respect your wishes. But I will prove to you that I will love you right for the rest of my life. I will always be yours, Y/N.”

You only looked at him one last time before going inside. When you sat across from Rosé and got the courage to look out the window, that Impala you knew all too well was gone. 

And as the sensation of his lips lingered on your own, you answered your own thoughts. 

No, you would never go back in time and erase everything you had with him. No matter the outcome, he will always be the boy that taught you how to love. 

Coming back for you, huh? 

You’ll believe that when you see it.

[pxjiminsi]

First Encounter

Chapter 1 from the series: Before you Go

Pairing: Jimin x reader, Taehyung x reader, Jin x OC, OT5 x reader platonic love

Fic Type: Slice of life au

Genre: slice of life, fluff, mild smut, and a healthy amount of angst

Warning: few cuss words

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: Hi! This will be my first BTS Au in tumblr, I’ll be also uploading my old works here! Friendly comments and criticism from my fellow writers and readers as I want to improve my writing further on. I hope you enjoy my series.

"This is exactly what I needed" sighing to yourself while handing your boarding pass to the flight attendant. Realizing that after a year of Architecture school and a whole lot of failing, a getaway is what you needed. 

It's not like you don't try and don't study hard enough. Architecture interests you, you just think that you're not good enough in doing anything, not school, not singing, not dancing, nothing. Talentless. Jack of all trades, master of none, as they say. On top of failing Architecture school, going to this unplanned and impulsive decision to go to L.A is your parents' disappointment and your very romantic boyfriend who couldn't seem to care less where you go and end up. 

You don't even think if he knows how long you're leaving even if you had mentioned it to him a hundred times before, but he never looked away from the TV to give any response. "Fucking Diablo" scoffing as you struggle and push your embarrassingly large neon pink luggage in the compartment. "crap, I can't do shit" deeply breathing to avoid having a breakdown because of your stupid arm strength. 

Until this boy wearing a white shirt, black shorts, and a black snapback who is relatively annoyed because you were in his and his group’s way, easily picks up your luggage and shoves it into the compartment like it was nothing. His muscular and vein bulging arms left you dumbfounded to his sudden appearance, smirking while he comfortably sits next to yours.

What a prick, you thought. At the same time, you knew he's just being nice and you're the asshole for having a bad mood and attitude problems. 

It's a 13-hour flight from Korea to L.A and you try your best to shake your mind off of things that remind you of anything back home. "It's only half a year, I deserve this. Even if I have to start providing for myself, as long as I’m happy." you try to convince yourself as the plane starts to take off. 

It’s been 2 hours since the flight took off and you’ve been nothing but restless. You tried resting your head on the windowpane but you can’t help yourself be intoxicated by the asshole guy next to you, his ripped arm covers the whole armrest and you’re not even complaining. His head rested back in his seat and tilting to the side, cheeks were slightly flushed due to the cold air, his scent is so alluring, he smells like fresh and soft blankets that cover you on a rainy day. You can instantly fall asleep in his arms if not it being inappropriate and if you weren’t in a relationship. For God sakes y/n you have a boyfriend back home, internally screaming. 

His eyes opened as he seemed to notice your restlessness, shifting from one position to another. “Are you okay? Was I snoring?” You want to say that no, he was fine, that he should continue sleeping. Feeling guilty for creepily glancing in his face. “No, you’re perfect, it’s just my first time being this far away from home. Sorry, I woke you.”  pulling a fake smile not believing you just called him perfect. 

He then gave the most amazing eye smile, because you called him attractive and said “It’s okay I can’t sleep that deep either, it’s also my first time being away, but for training, we’re kind of a boy group back home.” You were not that interested in boy groups back then, but the way he talks with that grin on his face, listening to him all night might not be bad. “I’m Y/n”  finally having the guts to introduce yourself. “Yeah I know, I saw your name in your luggage tag, I’m Park Jimin” You were surprised at how fast he saw your name while helping earlier. Was he curious about you as you were of him? 

You began to ask him questions to get around your awkward first impression. He began telling how he was originally from Busan as a contemporary dance student and how he transferred to Seoul to finish High school and train with his group. He even showed his audition tape 5 years ago. You can’t believe how he bulked up so much since then, and they just debuted 3 years ago. He also introduced his friends in the seats up front, Taehyung and Jeongguk who just both nodded at you and went back to sleep. He stated that other members were separated due to booking problems. “So what about you, Y/n, what’s your story?” He asked, putting his left knuckle under his jaw ready to listen. 

You breathe deeply hesitating to let him partake at telling your sad backstory, not wanting to dim the mood, but he has this spirit that screams comfort. That whatever you tell him, he’s not going to show pity and judgment. His eyes are so deep in yours as you start to speak. “Well, I kind of ran away from home. Needing to breathe, pausing to trail his reaction testing the waters but he gave nothing but fascination on your story. “Honestly, I don’t know what I am doing here on this plane to L.A. I’m trying to find what I want to do in my life, if I want to continue my Architecture program, If I’m making right decisions, or If what I’m feeling right now full of uncertainty and fear is what I’ll feel for the rest of my life” you start to stutter, feeling panicky all of the sudden because It’s the first time you spoke out all your doubts and what-ifs. 

“Sounds cliché sure, but I know for sure I will not find answers back home. So here I am.”  laughing lightly to prevent creating a dark cloud around with your pathetic stories. Eyes wide open he said “I can’t imagine being brave as you, you are amazing. I hope I can be adventurous like this.” He pushes his hair back as he leans more towards you wanting to hear more. 

Brave? Adventurous? Be like me? Those were not the words you usually describe yourself. Dumb, careless, and worthless were the words you heard people describe you all your life. You quickly backed away with a hand in your chest as he leaned in, not wanting him to realize that a stranger made your heart flutter. 

Who the hell is this guy?

He probably felt he crossed his boundary from your reaction as he backed away feeling embarrassed. Regretting your reaction, you break the ice asking him if he wants to watch a movie instead. He smiled, happy that he didn’t ruin this nice thing that’s happening. 

A Walk to Remember started playing, a movie you both had already watched but will always be one of your favorites. Halfway through the movie, you notice that you’re the one he’s watching, discreetly, of course, his eyes tracing features from your eyes, the bridge of your nose, to your lips, and your exposed neck and collarbone. You can feel he’s trying to get a grip of himself for wanting to kiss you. You did the same thing to him when he’s the one watching. How can anyone not stare at his features. His perfectly brushed hair, almond-shaped eyes, cute, pointy nose, and oh god how can you start describing the most beautiful pouty lips and sharp jawline.

At some point in the movie, he begins to shake his head and blink his eyes trying to shake off his drowsiness. “You can sleep, you know. You’re not obligated to watch this with me,” you said not leaving your eyes off the screen to avoid eye contact. “No, I like having someone I can talk to and spend time comfortably. it’s been a while since I had a friend other than my members.” 

You unintentionally pout.

‘Friend’

Yeah right, you didn’t know why you’re so disappointed hearing that when you’re not single and you just freaking met. 

Realizing that what he said made your eyes drop suddenly, a small smile forms in the corners of his mouth as he gently uses his finger to lift your chin. It felt like time slowed down when both of you met each other’s eyes. You bite your lip and fix your eyes on the screen quickly resisting the urge to kiss him, trying to calm all this sexual tension you both had ever since the plane took off. You have no idea what he was thinking, but you can feel his stare on the side of your face. You offered to finish the movie avoiding his stare as you plug the earpiece on, handing him his. He grins as if he’s proud he made you pout and flustered. 

After a while, all that sexual tension was long forgotten as you made fun of each other for crying after the movie. You also helped each other by stuffing your faces with provided snacks while watching their music videos. Seeing him dance so passionately makes him a hundred times more attractive, and you’re already a hundred percent attracted to him. Jeongguk and Taehyung also woke up and introduced themselves properly this time. Jimin describes Jeongguk and Taehyung as the most playful members of their group, probably because they were the youngest. He shared that the other members were anxious about how Jeongguk continues to grow, scared that one day he’ll be the tallest one and forgetting he has Hyungs, but they’ll love him nonetheless. Taehyung on the other hand is only a few months younger than Jimin and they’ve been friends since Jimin moved to Seoul enrolling in the same school as Tae. 

Jeongguk and Taehyung were perplexed at how the two of you became this close in a short amount of time seeing how you two laughed regardless of how many times the flight attendant looked sternly at the both of you. Steering clear of the chaos, they proceeded to eat and play video games. You and Jimin shared earphones finally settling down to listen to his favorite tracks on his phone. Having no sleep the whole flight, after a while you doze off to his shoulders. “How beautiful” he whispered as he bit his lip from wanting to smile so much and not wanting to wake you up. 

"Good morning passengers. This is your captain speaking. On behalf of Korean Air and the entire crew, I would like to thank you for joining us on this trip and we are looking forward to seeing you onboard again in the near future. Welcome to L.A"

Jimin wakes you up by brushing your hair away from your face and with a heavy look on his face. “Hey, we’re here” gently whispering. You woke up confused, instantly regretting falling asleep as one of the nights you felt something again has come to an end. “I’m sorry for sleeping on you, you must’ve had a hard time not moving” he stretched for a bit, grinned, and said “It’s nothing, I fell asleep too. Hey I was wondering if --” he was stopped mid-sentence as Taehyung got up in his seat and said “We got to go, Namjoon-hyung’s waiting already outside” He started pulling bags on the compartment “Nice meeting you, Y/n! Please continue to support us in the future.” showing his boxy smile while dragging half-asleep Jeongguk along with their luggage. 

You quickly got up and brushed your way past Jimin, steering clear of eye-contact and the awkward Hey this will be the last time you’ll be seeing me but hey I had an amazing night last night goodbye. You drag your heavy ass luggage, he tried to help you but you wouldn’t let him. “I’ll be going now, good luck with your training, I’ll be cheering for you.” You look at his confused face with a forced smile. Eyes downcast, your heart starts to race as you exit the plane, leaving Jimin at a loss for words. 

You struggle to pull your luggage to the baggage claim for your other bags, almost sprinting to avoid bumping into Jimin and his group. "I hope she's already here" whispering to yourself while sending a message to your best friend and whose house you'll stay in while you get by.

“Y/n!!!!!!” Soo Yun embarrassingly shouts your name as she waves her hands frantically to get your attention. You wanted to sink and place yourself in the baggage conveyor belt and disappear from all the unwanted attention your name was getting. Despite having an embarrassing friend, you run up to her, forgetting your bags and giving her a big hug. Not seeing each other for 5 years was torture as you grew up together from elementary school and halfway through high school. Her family’s decision to move to L.A put a strain on your relationship but thank the millennial gods of social media you both managed to survive. 

She grew her bob already, you noticed. Now having this long hair until his mid-back with her matching bangs. She also wears contacts now as she was made fun of before for wearing nerdy looking glasses. Of course, you were there to save her every time.

“Are your bags ready? The car’s waiting outside, because there are a lot of people on the arrival platform. Did you fly with someone famous?” As she roamed her eyes around the baggage claim area. “No, I don’t think so. I’m ready, I’ll just grab my bags” pretending that the best flight you ever experienced was all a dream. You hurry as people from other flights we’re coming down. You grab your neon pink luggage and dash to your best friend waiting outside. You wonder if it’s the adrenaline of being in a foreign country that your big ass luggage wasn’t too heavy anymore.