#man i need to be employed not just for money or a satisfaction of my chosen profession that i enjot

[cr4yolaas]

the night shift — prologue

masterlist | day 1

it's cold. too cold.

it's a little too late at night for any customers to arrive. tokyo is deemed one of the many cities that don't sleep, but with how quiet it is inside and out and the snow collecting softly on the windows, it seems that the world has come to a slumber.

the overhead lights flicker, slightly. someone would have to squint their eyes to see it. the freezers hum in the background, forever running for the satisfaction of others. a gentle melody that neither of them knows the name of loops from the speakers. it's just about the same as every other branch in the city.

and yet, for them, it's a sanctuary.

to escape from the reality of their lives is a blessing, and they find that solace in the walls of the convenience store, almost every night.

he likes to observe her. when their shifts align and they find themselves seated together behind the register, just like every other night, he observes, and observes, and observes, but he can only absorb so much. the color of her hair. the tint of her cheeks. the little habits.

he knows there's more to it. that, beneath the mass of flesh and muscle and bone, there are more intricacies than he could count on his fingers. but he reminds himself, every night, that there is no point in bothering himself with it. because, after all, they're just coworkers.

the alarm on his phone, set at exactly 11:30 in the evening, rings inside his pocket. they're both pulled out of the reservoirs of their minds and dropped into something more secure, something more familiar. a routine.

while he gets up to sanitize the counter, she moves to the register, the metal clinking at the little drawer pops open (he doesn't know, but she counts the money in her hands and wonders what it'd be like if it were all hers, just for a day). the heater shuts off and the door to the break room clicks shut. old shoes squeak against old tile while pen meets paper, little notes jotted into her mind that she'll (hopefully) remember to tell her manager about tomorrow.

silence washes over like a blanket. they don't fight it.

a sense of agreement, albeit not verbally disclosed, is shared between them — that much has been established since they were both employed, standing side by side in a line full of newcomers with too little shoulder space. there is no need to say anything. there is no need to do anything, other than their job. it's routine. it's necessary. it's comfortable.

but, the night shift drags on. and the more it does, the more he wants to break the routine.

ᡣ𐭩 thank you for choosing to read the night shift !!

ᡣ𐭩 this is one of my favorite projects ever i think. i'm so so excited for it

ᡣ𐭩 i wanted to introduce the ambiance and general vibe first so i hope this little prologue captured it well ^_^

ᡣ𐭩 in case you missed it, the convenience store that kags and yn work at is a common branch in this au. therefore it's not exactly a mega company but it's not a family business either

ᡣ𐭩 yn texts the manager's son bc he's an old man who stays around just for the fun of it. may or may not hate the son's guts, bc he's a bit of a privileged nepo baby

ᡣ𐭩 kageyama is a people watcher imo. bc of his analytical skills that are constantly applied to volleyball, i feel like he tries to apply similar skills to those around him sometimes. and who better than his coworker !!

ᡣ𐭩 anyways. i hope this smau turns out well !!

taglist: @causenessus @strawberryuri @iiwaijime @savemebrazilhinata @tiramizuloz @conrad4life13 @wyrcan @zazathezaer @nperoconelcositoarriba @winniethepooh-lover

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[ackerlert]

Sneaky Link

Pairings: Porco x fem reader x sugar daddy!zeke

Summary: University reader becomes Zeke’s sugar baby after meeting each other at her work, which is a stripper, ofc. Eventually develops a relationship with Porco Galliard, of whom Zeke employs ;)

TW: alcohol usage, oral (m / f receiving), food (icing) play, mirror sex, phone sex

You needed some money during college, and tutoring stupid high schoolers wasn’t making the bills. Plus, you couldn’t put up with their slowness one second longer.

When Sasha took you out for a night at the strip club to relieve some stress, her joke that you could always make bank shaking your ass for old men actually sounded quite appealing. It was a lot more fun than tutoring, anyways. 

Out of curiosity, you found yourself browsing the internet for openings at nearby nightclubs. Soon you were watching YouTube videos of strippers going through their daily routine, counting their tips, and describing their success in the industry. You were hooked.

You ask Hitch to take pole dancing lessons with you, and she doesn't suspect any of your true intentions, since this was on your bucket list of things to do together.

Soon you secured yourself a job at a local strip club. The first person you confided in was, unsurprisingly, Hitch. She was surprised you actually pursued being a stripper, but the shock didn't really last for long considering her knowledge of your freaky tendencies.

Hitch advised you to be careful, and she was particularly worried about how you would manage to fit this new job into your tight school schedule.

It was simple: you would take your classes, do your assignments, and report to your job at night. You’d work through the closing shift and get back to your shared apartment with Mikasa, Sasha, and Hitch sometime past 2am.

Zeke is a regular.

He gives you larger tips than any of the other girls.

He even pays for private sessions, which consist of you dancing for him mostly an hour at a time.

Eventually you two fuck it out in a booth of the club.

He asks if you'd like to “do this again sometime”. Naturally, you agreed. He exchanges phone numbers with you and asks for your cashapp. 

Blushing because you didn't realize he intended on compensating you for your arrangement, you agree to give him your account number.

You and Zeke continue this for a couple months, growing more addicted to the orgasms he gives you every time.

You had two generous sources of income now.

You found out a lot about zeke: he owned a decently large company, fucked a lot of women before he met you, and he was even more freaky than yourself. 

One day after a session with Zeke, you're sprawled out on the side of his bed, toying with the golden hair that trailed down his torso, and staring up at the ceiling, mind completely fucked out.

“I have a business event coming up soon,” Zeke states.

You hum in approval, not expecting zeke to continue on.

“It’s plus one.” He pauses, “I was wondering if you would like to join me.”

You turn your head to look at Zeke, almost asking him to repeat himself. Was this like a date thing?

Zeke turned to look at you too. His eyes glossed over at the sight of your surprised face and post-sex hair floating around the crown of your head. He smirked, visualizing the way he had made that sex hair. Gripping your h/c locks and pulling your head back, pounding into you from behind.

Your lips were swollen from being stretched around his thick cock, making him cum round after round. Now they were parted, unsure as what to make of his question.

Zeke repeated himself, “Are you free next Saturday?”

“Y-yes. I’m free.” You said, “I would love to go to your work thing with you.” A smile graced your lips. He fucking loved that smile. Loved seeing it bloom on your face when your eyes rolled to the back of your head, begging to take more of his cock.

“Alright,” he grabbed for his phone, pulling up the information from his calendar. Your phone dinged, no doubt zeke sending you over the event details. “It’s formal attire. Do you need to buy something to wear?” He glanced up lovingly from the screen at you for a mere second. “Fuck it, never mind that.” His eyes reconcentrated back onto the phone. Your phone dinged again, the familiar melody of the cashapp notification filling your ears.

“Let’s take you shopping, princess.” His legs swung over the side of the bed. A back completely full of endless scratches faced you while he stretched those long arms of his. His back muscles rippled as he did so, the sight making your stomach flutter with butterflies. 

“Wait!” You say desperately and propping yourself up on the bed. You didn't intend on opening your mouth, but now you had to commit to it.

Zeke side glanced at you, acknowledging your pathetic request.

“Let me suck you off one more time,” you said. You added, “before we go.” A husky chuckle escaped from zeke’s throat. “Such a slut for me.” “What a good girl, knowing just the way to make me hard.”

Porco and you meet each other at the business event, it’s an instant click. He’s employed by Zeke. Soon you're exchanging numbers with him.

These business parties became more frequent with Zeke. And every time, Porco was there. You two would sneak off to help yourself to drinks while Zeke was bombarded with potential buyers inquiring about his product.

Porco makes you laugh so much. Honestly, it’s probably the alcohol, but every joke he cracked earned a cute giggle from you. It only made him harder for you than he already was.

“I could go a lot longer than him, you know.” He whispers in your ear.

Sooner than later you’re texting Zeke that the alcohol was killing your stomach, and you just had to get out of there right away. 

Porco didn’t wait to stick his strong hands in your pants when you tumbled into the taxi.

“Gonna take you away from that old man’s dick, yeah baby? Give you this big cock like you deserve?”

You make it back to his large apartment, practically humping his clothed leg on the elevator ride.

By the time you’re inside his place, your panties are soaked and the black lace Zeke bought you is falling from your shoulders.

Porco throws you on the bed, not leaving you any time to remove your heels. 

He climbs over you and just starts completely obliterating you with open mouthed kisses across your collarbone.

You don't fail to notice the mirror above Porco’s large bed, seeing the way he straddles over your small body.

Porco sits up from his position on the end of the bed and grabs for your ankles, yanking you closer to him. Just as he hums into your folds, a buzzing emerges from your purse in the middle of the living room.

“Shit,” you say, recognizing the pattern as Zeke’s contact. “It’s Zeke,” you groan.

“Answer the phone, pretty girl.” Porco says with a devilish smirk.

“Wha-?!” Your face fills with terror.

“I said answer the phone.” Porco grows stricter in tone.

“O-ok” your hands shake as you make your way across the floor to where your purse was.” As you accept the call, Porco motions you back to the bed.

You nod, doing as he says.

“Hey princess,” Zeke says with a smile on the end of the phone.

“Hi,” you say shakily. Porco gives you a menacing look.

“Not feeling good?” Zeke refers to your text. 

You let out a shy “Nuh-uh” in response.

“I’m sorry baby,” Zeke says, “I can pick you up so you can spend the night with me in case you feel any worse.”

“No!-“ You say startled, “I mean, no, my girlfriends have me all bundled up back at my apartment.”

Silence from Zeke.

“Oh, well, that’s too bad.” He adds, “I wanted to make you feel a little better than they could tonight.”

You look at Porco, a little intimidated by his intense stare on you. He can hear Zeke’s toying with you from the other end of the phone. He nods, urging you to play along.

You giggle softly, a bad attempt at sounding sicker than usual.

“Really? How so?” Porco slides down the edge of the bed, focused on your legs.

Zeke clears his throat, obviously getting off at the anticipation of phone sex.

Some shuffling is heard on the other end of the phone before Zeke says, “You know, maybe cook you some food. That layered strawberry cake you like yeah?”

You hum in satisfaction, but quickly noticed how your approval angered Porco.

He aggressively pushes your legs apart, eyeing your wetness.

“Use that icing on you.” Zeke says, “Make you filthy when I run it over that pretty body of yours. I’d fucking lick it off you because you taste so good.”

Porco starts to kitten lick between your folds, earning a whimper from you.

You imagine Zeke piping the vanilla icing onto your torso as he pushes himself into you, smearing it across your breasts and stomach with his rough hands.

The pressure between your legs rises as the licks grow longer and rougher across your clit. Porco suckles on that bundle of nerves, and you can’t help but cry out a moan.

The sounds from Zeke’s side of the phone indicate he’s jerking off vigorously at this point. “Say my name, kitten.”

You look wildly down at Porco, who stops his motions to shake his head at you. No way he’d let you moan another man’s name on his own bed.

“Daddy,,” you drawl out. You earn approval from Porco, who resumes lapping at your pussy.

Porco taps your thigh, indicating to you that it was time to hang up on Zeke, who hadn’t cum yet. 

“Oh gosh, Zeke baby” you start, “One of the girls is coming in i have to go-“

“Wait, y/n-“ but you didn't let him finish. You sigh with relief knowing you can fully indulge in Porco now. He grips your thighs roughly, leaving bruises to be discovered tomorrow.

“What’s Zeke doing now, huh?” “Pumping his weak cock thinking about this tight little pussy of yours?” “I wonder what he’d think if he knew your pussy was taking my tongue so well right now. Acting like such a whore for somebody else.”

Porco pulls himself off of your sweaty body, panting and licking up your wetness. 

His eyes are dead set on you, and you felt small under his glare. His hands grab under your arms, quickly flipping your positions. “Bounce on me for it,” he growls.

You nod eagerly, situating yourself above him. Your face reddens as you align your entrance up to him, nervous about his judgement. 

Porco softens, noticing your hesitance, “It’s okay baby girl,” His warm hands caress the side of your cheek, thumb grazing your plump lips, “You’re doing really good,” Porco looks earnestly up at you, flashing you a soft grin. You press into his hold on you, strands of hair covering your forehead that tangled around Porco’s fingers.

You finally push yourself down on Porco’s length, his large girth stretching you full. Porco moans at the new feeling, and you can’t help but whimper at the burning pleasure. Your hands roam around Porco’s strong torso, feeling down his thick abs and rubbing circles into his sides. A low groan emits from his chest, and you admire his expressions from above.

You begin moving along his hard length, his tip hitting just the right spot each time. Keeping a slow pace, you tease Porco a little longer, but he’s quick to bark at you to go faster. You let out a playful giggle, “Okay, you’re the boss.” “Doing so good putting Zeke in his place, hm?”

Porco groans at your words, and you swore he was growing larger inside of you at the thought of demoting his Zeke.

Your movements quicken and Porco continues to let out strings of curses.

“Yeah ride my cock baby, just like that. Just like you do for Zeke.”

The thought of another man puts butterflies in your stomach, and you feel yourself falter. 

Porco doesn’t miss a beat, however. He quickly thrusts up into you, earning a gasp from your mouth. His hands fly to your sides, balancing you while he does all the work. You whimper at his rapid pace, nearing your climax.

“Porco,” you moan, “I-ah, g’nna cum.”

“Ok, baby,” he says in between thrusts, “Cum then.” 

That was all you needed to hear before spilling your release over Porco.

He continued to milk you out, eventually finishing not too long after. He lets you fall on top of his frame, palms rubbing circles into your and easing you from your high.

“Good job, y/n.” You lift your head up to look at Porco’s face. He smiles back at you tenderly. “Alright let’s clean you up.” 

He settles you on the bed next to his side and slides off the bed to grab a clean towel from the linen closet and discard the condom in the trash. You watch his muscle-y body move across the apartment floors, his clear focus on grabbing the right things for you. 

He comes back with an iced water and starts cleaning up your thighs. 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you smile, “I can do it myself.”

He looks up at you, eyebrows screwed up in confusion, “What? No, I’m doing it.” He continues his work at cleaning you off. 

“..oh, ok.” You say shyly, butterflies in your stomach from his actions. 

“Does he not do this for you?” Porco asks, not looking up from fixing up the sheets below you.

You replied slowly, “No, not really.”

Porco sighed, “He’s such a selfish dick.”

You laugh at Porco’s attitude. But now that you think about it, Zeke was always thinking about himself. The thought passed as soon as it came, and you did consider the fact that he was paying you.

Porco nestled himself on the side of you after he was done, grunting a little from his tired state. His big arms hugged around your smaller body as he pulled you in close.

“Porco?” You called.

“Hm?”

“Thank you,” you muffled into his chest.

Porco blushed at your comment, but simply toughed it over and patted your ruffled hair, “Mhm”.

A few pings were heard from your cell phone as you drifted into sleep, no doubt from Zeke, and each time Porco pulled you in tighter. A smile curled crept onto your lips, “It’s not like I’m gonna leave, Pokko,” you giggled.

“Good,” he said, “I wasn’t planning on letting you anyways.”

[nettlestonenell]

Part Two: 

Ardent Human Desire vs. Fate and the Manpasikjeok OR Why Are There So Many Obstacles Between Lee Gon and Jeong Tae-Eul’s Ultimate Reunion?

If you haven’t, please go back and read Part One: Questions About the Flute OR User Manual, Manpasikjeok Edition

Let’s agree to a few things to start, here.

1.       In a parallel universe, everyone has a counterpart/doppelganger.

2.       In TKEM’s version of this, your counterpart/doppelganger shares not only your birthday and therefore your age, but also your exact genealogy—which is to say you have the same parents, grandparents, bloodline across each universe. In TKEM this means you will have the same family name (Jo, Lee, Jeong, Myeong) across all possible universes, though your first names will change depending on your iteration. This also means that you are fated to be with the same family/lover/spouse across all possible universes. This is pre-appointed and applies to everyone. *exception: as the worlds begin to show their cracks, Jo Yeong’s parents have divorced, while Jo Eun-Sup’s stayed together, and have had twins. (The finale, when the worlds are again harmonized, reunites Jo Yeong’s parents and they do have twins, which seems to signal that this was their proper Fate)

3.       Episode 16, the series finale, seems to really muddy the waters of #2 in a way that I probably lean toward being sloppy consistency rather than deliberate revoking of world-building absolutes [Example: Jo Yeong’s parents are together in 2022 and have twins, but those children would be several years younger than their Republic counterparts (who are said to be starting Kindergarten at that same time), which is…not parallel universes in balance? It would signal exactly the opposite—that time and life flows entirely differently in each universe after repairing the flute…and 1:1 doppelgangers are no more--which is maybe yet another post needed to ponder that on…]

If we take on #2, we are left asking ourselves about three particular characters and their doppelgangers: Lee Gon/Lee Ji-Hyun, Jeong Tae-Eul/Luna, and Kang Sin-Jae/Kang Hyeon-Min

Across all universes, how are they fated to hook-up? OR Who is Jeong Tae-Eul’s true, fated love across all universes in the mind and will of Manpasikjeok?

Is it Jeong Tae-Eul/Luna, and Kang Sin-Jae?

For example, if Shin-Jae of the Kingdom is fated for Luna, and vice versa, and he’s been taken to the Republic (against the will of the flute), he can’t be with Luna. BUT, if that is the fate, that those two are to be together--especially to have a child--then it translates across all parallel worlds, and means that Jeong Tae-Eul is meant for Kang Hyeon-Min, yes? The two Republic-based iterations. This also would illuminate two other things:

1.       The fact that Sin-Jae "has feelings for” Tae-Eul. She’s not the “right” iteration for him (he’s Kingdom and she’s Republic), but she’s the closest he can get to the satisfaction of his heart, in a frustrated Fate.

2.      It could be suggested -- Did you ever notice that the youth embodiment of the flute appears at least twice in situations that throw KSJ and JTE even closer together? In one, he’s leading that group of high schoolers past the TaeKwonDo center where KSJ first sees Tae-Eul, and in another he’s bullying KSJ so that JTE fights for KSJ. It doesn’t seem coincidental to me that the flute makes an appearance trying to throw these two together—even though they’re the wrong match. Poor thing, it’s trying, in its broken state, to still do its job, to still steer fate.

3.       But yet, Tae-Eul never--even long before meeting Lee Gon--has romantic feelings for Sin-Jae.

4.       And what we’re shown in the final episode of the series between Sin-Jae and Luna in the Kingdom could at best be called pre-romantic. (and more likely be termed platonic) Their relationship mirrors the JTE/KSJ relationship in the Republic, of her hyung-nim well before Lee Gon appeared, before KSJ expressed that he had feelings for her.

Is it Jeong Tae-Eul and Kang Hyeon-Min?

If it’s meant to be JTE and Kang Hyeon-Min as a fated couple, that’s impossible, as KHM has been rendered comatose in a way that we’re not shown is related to either the Traitor or the Treason. We are shown in Episode 16 what was “supposed” to happen was that he would NOT be struck by the car—his original fate doesn’t hold, there, and as such, his character in 2022, now a chaebol, is removed entirely from JTE’s circle of acquaintance. I’d say, importantly, in the Episode 16 re-set (pre-LG’s return), she not only never looks him up, she never encounters him, which if he were her fate or her potential fate, she surely would have.

Is it Jeong Tae-Eul and Lee Ji-Hyun?

I confess this is where my money is. Of course, Lee Ji-Hyun, in the Traitor’s made-over version of the Republic, dies at age 8, so JTE would never have met him, and therefore I posit would have lived as a single, childless woman until her death in that version of the Republic. (Without the LG re-set)

(Had she not met Lee Gon) I believe that JTE and LJH were fated, in the will and agenda of the flute. They are its preferred match.

What about Lee Gon, then? Who for him?

Remember, in Episode 16, Luna gets a found-family re-set, and PM Koo is jailed after some political intrigue (though not having risen as high as PM). While Lee Gon would not likely have met Luna 1.0 the street rat, it’s not impossible to think that he might, at some function or another, have met a politician’s sibling who was college-educated and working as a civil servant.

I choose to believe that all versions of JTE and LG are fated to be lovers and ultimately parents to children. It is only Lee R/Lim’s cockblock that makes it impossible for the Republic’s iteration of JTE to meet Lee Ji-Hyun, dead aged 8. 

Which is where Ardent Human Desire comes into play in altering Fate.

What is Ardent Human Desire when we’re talking about Fate?

Let me direct you to a little moment in a show called Goblin/Guardian: The Lonely and Great God, written by Kim Eun-Suk, the writer of TKEM. 

A moment of set-up: the Grim Reaper has a tea room behind a solid (to living human eyes) wall. In it he entertains dead souls before they leave this world. In one episode, a living human man comes through the door, begging for a bathroom. Both Goblin and Reaper are stunned: no one living should be able to come through that door, much less see it. It’s not their Fate. Fate is unchangeable, right? But after directing the living man (in pain from a need for the toilet), they muse that ardent human desire can perhaps open any door (alter any assigned fate). [Something Goblin is eager to accomplish, subverting fate]

Seeing as it’s from the same author’s mind, I’d argue that that concept comes into play in TKEM, too.

From the Night of the Treason forward, Lee Gon has an ardent human desire to find JTE. Not Luna. No, he wants to meet the woman from the Republic who’s a police officer. That’s 25 years of a (let’s be clear: non-sexual, non-romantic at the time) persistent desire that never lessens, never fades. Furthermore, it’s a desire of the king who’s a potential player of the flute, of the growing child who heard the flute call to him. Of the man who chooses ultimately to retrieve the flute whole at ultimate personal risk (and risk, even, to his relationship with JTE, the object of his Ardent Human Desire).

And the flute tests him—in fact, I will argue with you all night and into the weekend that what we’re shown of him opening every door in the universe is just that: a test by Manpasikjeok. “Are you sure she’s what you really want?” it’s asking him. “How far will you go to find her? How many iterations of her happy can I show you until it lessens your desire for her? Until you give in?”

I think it’s terribly important that in no iteration does LG find a JTE doppelganger that’s in a bad situation, in need of rescuing. [Case in point: Luna 1.0 street rat--he’s allowed to see nothing similar] He expressly tells JTE that she is happy every time he finds a version of her. And yet, because of how fate works in TKEM’s universes, he likewise never finds her married or involved with anyone, or with children—because, as Part One laid out: if one Lee Gon/JTE has children (same birthdays)/hooks up with their fate, then ALL iterations of Lee Gon/JTE have children (same birthdays)/have hooked up with their fate--particularly once the timeline and flute have been repaired.

We know that if those JTEs had met their LG iterations they would have AT LEAST recognized our LG’s face when he presented himself. But they don’t. Nope. She is always employed, always still living in the same building with one, if not two, parents. Because of that we’re never shown that LG has trouble locating her (as JTE did in the Kingdom locating her mother, checking their address, b/c there her parents were both dead).

This shot will never look above-board.

To think about how these/this situation works, keep in mind that last leap during their epilogue dating trips—where LG had just left the Kingdom and they were blipped back there only minutes later. The flute, in its whole form, is clearly controlling where they are sent and when (and perhaps that’s a different post, too, about how the flute is preparing/teaching Lee Gon to be its eventual player). The flute, when whole, controls where you end up. It’s not a transporter where you dial up your destination, it’s spinning a roulette wheel if the roulette wheel is fixed by the House.

Here, in the immediate wake of resetting the night of the Treason, the flute is actively NOT LETTING Lee Gon get to JTE. It is MAKING HIM open every door in the universe, seeing if he will persist, showing him what it wants him to see. (Her happy and at peace, not in need of him.) The flute is trying to see if it can convince Lee Gon to let her go since, as they are from two different worlds, they are not each other’s assigned fate.

Obviously, showing him a JTE in straitened circumstances would only encourage him to find her. That’s not going to lessen his desire, so the flute doesn’t go that route. Instead, it shows JTE with purpose, first (I think) as an airline pilot, then a soldier, a graduate of the police academy, and finally as some version of an ‘Idol’ (I think.) [*All positions that also do a surprisingly good job of showing qualities that would sync well with being the Queen of the Kingdom, so perhaps the flute is a little conflicted about JTE as well…]

And what’s more, during this time, as LG is opening every door in the universe (and also, I assume, only being able to venture into the liminal space and leave the Kingdom occasionally b/c he’s still got King Work to do), the flute decides to put someone directly in bitterly lonely Tae-Eul’s path as well.

And it’s not to break her heart (nor viewers’). 

Think about when she encounters Lee Ji-Hyun on the street. On my original views it seemed to me that he didn’t take any notice of her at all (she is, at her height, well out of his line of sight), but upon closer re-watch he DOES actually have a second of looking at her. It’s not extended eye contact, and maybe not direct eye contact at all, but he does see her. In this, the flute gives Tae-Eul the chance to see her original, pre-LG fated love. And what does it have him dressed in, just for her sake?

That’s right: his military uniform. It’s not the same coat Lee Gon wore when washing rice, that was white—but it’s the black one he and Yeong are wearing in their selfie. “Here he is,” the flute/Fate seems to be saying to her, “he could be yours if you’ll only accept him.”

[*It is also perhaps because Lee Ji-Hyu- iterations are serving his military service that the other JTE-iterations have not met him yet in the other parallel universes]

But the Ardent Human Desire of these two lovers refuses to be swayed, even after a year of separation and total ignorance of each other’s post-reset situations. Persistent. Ardent. Human. Desire.

The flute is indebted to both of them. They each took steps that culminated in a destiny/fate they each chose to embrace (to use Prince Buyeong’s words). They sacrificed their own Ardent Human Desires to fix the timeline and the parallel universes while knowing it might well separate them forever from that which they desire (the exact opposite of villainous Lee R/Lim’s actions). [In fact, making  ultimately Kingly choices, shows of wisdom and worthiness.]

The King Lee Gon chose for not only his subjects, but also the citizens of the Republic, and the future Queen JTE chose to brave the liminal space with Lee R/Lim for her love, the King.

And in the wake of that, fate—and the Manpasikjeok—agreed to bend.

Which is why LG and JTE then become what is fated.

[txdoroki]

I was wondering if I could ask for a request where the reader is a fashion designer and is hosting like a runway show to show off their designs but a model couldn’t make it/ was sick and they were panicking cause they needed someone to fill in for thier favorite outfit. And so they get either bakugo, Tenya or aizawa (whoever you want to write) to fill in. And after the show, the reader was like 🥺 wow you did such a good job, we should work together again 😊 and the charecter is like sure, but you gotta go on a date with me :))

This could just be like a quick drabble, I just though it would be interesting

I hope this isn’t too much to ask :)) and if you don’t want to do it, no problem. This is my first time requesting anything, so I hope it’s clear enough! Have a nice day, thank you!!!

of course! this is a really fun idea i hope you like what i wrote! it isn’t too much to ask, thank you for the request! have a nice day aswell :)

(includes bakugou, iida, aizawa)

desc: you’re a fashion designer hosting your first show, and the man who was going to showcase the best outfit you had planned called in.... he can’t make it. 

warnings: none

words: 1,275

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

your dream of becoming a fashion designer was finally coming true. tonight!

you’d worked so hard for all of this, saving up money since you were 15. 7 years of money saving kickstarted you to your dream, a runway show.

it had a mix of masculine, feminine, and androgynous outfits for your models.

the outfit you were most excited for others to see was one you’d been working on for ages, collecting bits and pieces for it over the years.

while daydreaming about how amazing the show would be, you got a call from the model who would be showing that outfit’s manager. ah fuck.

“hello, miss y/n. i’m sorry to inform you in such late notice that (name of model) has caught a cold, and cannot come in. good luck with your show.”

oh shit. what will you do now??

*now this splits into each character’s section*

-bakugou-

the model that the agency came up with instead of the planned, was none other than bakugou katsuki himself. he had a widespread reputation of being aggressive, but he was more just pissy when he showed up.

“the names bakugou. now, who do i owe the pleasure to?” he scoffed, “y/n? cute. for a goddamned puppy.”

what is that even supposed to mean?

you didn’t have time to retort back, instead getting a call that your show will soon be beginning.

“yeah yeah, i know the drill,” he winked, turning away, “hope i don’t disappoint or whatever. not that i give two shits.”

you nervously walked to the seat you saved for yourself, a crowd of people surrounded the runway, including some very famous designer agencies that were on the lookout for new designers to employ.

you took a deep breath as your show began, and so far it all was going to plan!

all of the outfits had the crowd gasping in surprise, taking in the small details that’d be missed if they were not fashion enthusiasts themselves.

when bakugou was next, you were silently wishing and hoping that he’d pull off the outfit. you knew it’d look amazing on him since he’s good looking anyways, but you swear if he fucks up you’ll yell his ear off.

“last outfit for tonight folks, worn by the firey model himself, bakugou katsuki,” the announcer said as bakugou walked out.

he looked better than the original model, and you had to dig your nails into your hand to stay quiet.

once he got to the end of the runway, he struck a pose and walked back.

afterwards, he walked up to you. this was confusing to you, you’ve never heard of models really doing that.

“i made that outfit look so hot, nice designing skills,” he complimented, bringing a small blush to your cheeks, “what? i just told you you had skill, not like i told you you’re hot.” he snickered, “you are anyways though.”

“um yeah thanks,” you figured now would be a good time to ask, “you did very good, you wanna work together again sometime?”

his eyes gleamed with satisfaction, “sure, but you gotta let me take you out to dinner.”

“huh??”

“you heard me,” he winked and pushed a piece of paper with his phone number into your hand before walking away.

-text-

you: hii

bakugou: hey;) ill pick you up tomorrow at 7

-iida-

the agency told you their other models were busy, so you had to have one of your models do their original outfits plus the favorite.

you, obviously, chose the most talented model you had. tenya iida. his family had a long long line of models (see what i did there;)) and he was most definitely the best in your eyes.

when you offered the job to him, he agreed instantly, saying it was good for him to help you as he wanted to convey how responsible he was to his family. 

he took the agreement a little far, even saying that he’d never let you down as that is his duty to fulfill, but you just let him get determined to succeed. it was nice that he was so passionate about modeling, he always made sure to give things his very best.

“this outfit is very creative and well-crafted. good job, miss y/n.” iida gave you two thumbs up before running to get into his first outfit for the night.

iida was extremely talented, always getting the best ratings and reviews from the public. a few times he was put on the front cover of a magazine, gaining him a lot of followers. 

during the few times he walked, he got many cheers from the crowd. many people found him to be insanely attractive, some even came to shows with him in them just for him. you found him so lucky, and it shocked you to find he didn’t have a girlfriend at all for how many people thirst for him.

the way he looked in the ending piece was just- arf arf awooga sexy. you could’ve gotten a nosebleed from how hot he was.

after the show you looked for him, wanting to thank him for the favor.

when you finally found him, he was arguing with one of your other models about how they were there two minutes later than told. it’s very important to the public to be responsible and good at timing. you cannot succeed with trashy expectations, was around what we was saying, but you weren’t really tuned in.

“hey, iida! good job tonight, i really appreciate you working with me so kindly,” you smiled at him.

“of course, y/n! it’s my duty. would you wish to collaborate with me in future business ideals?” 

“hmmm.... on one condition,” you smirked, “you have to go on a date with me!”

“i would love to, thank you, y/n.” 

-aizawa-

none of your other models would agree to wearing the outfit, saying their schedules were too packed to fit it in.

you figured you might as well call your friend aizawa, he was hot and good at looking like his ego was too big.

“what do you want, y/n?” he yawned into the phone.

“please, shota, do you mind being a guest in my runway show?”

“what’s in it for me?”

“huh?”

“let me take you out on a date and i’ll agree to being in the show,” you could tell how absolutely serious he was. made you lowkey happy cause you’d been thirsting for him for a while.

“yeah yeah, now get here asap dummy,” you chuckled when he whispered a maybe too loud yay, hanging up the phone.

“y/n, have you got a fill-in for the finishing outfit?” your assistant asked.

“yes, add ‘shota aizawa’ to the list.” you ordered, your assistant immediately scribbling down his name, thanking you as they hurried away.

you knew aizawa would rock it, he was actually the inspiration for the entire piece. many people were confused as they’d never seen him before, but were hoping they would again sometime.

he looked so handsome in it, and you were really happy he wanted to take you on a date. 

after the show you were lost in thought, wondering what kind of date he’d take you on. would it be dinner? or the beach? or the park? or target? you loved target. truly it didn’t matter to you where he took you, even if you would just be at his place for a few hours you were still super hyped.

“let’s go, y/n,” aizawa walked up to you and took your hand, dragging you to his car.

“you’re lucky i took the subway here,” you scoffed, clicking your seatbelt on.

[jaskiersvalley]

hello! first of all I absolutely love your work, thank you so much for all this geraskier content! so it's not really a prompt, but one of the tropes I'm obsessed with is definitely the first kiss. would you write some more of this? maybe in a modern au? (or not!! whatever inspires you) anyway, thank you again for your writing and have a good day :))

First kiss in a modern AU, you say? It’s almost like you reached into my heart and pulled out one of my weaknesses. Plus, I could never say no to such a sweet request. I hope you’ve having a good day, Nonnie!

When Jaskier signed the lease on his apartment, he was a little dubious but money was tight and something about the Kaer Morhen block of flats was appealing. The landlord lived on site, there was a promise of round the clock help for emergencies and issues with the flat. Sure, it was old and looked a bit shoddy but the flat itself was sturdy and the residents all seemed quiet judging by the couple of times Jaskier went to view the place before deciding to sign a year long contract.

Moving in was quite a mundane affair. He had Priscilla and Valdo helping move his boxes but Jaskier was moving from one furnished flat to another so other than boxes of books, trinkets, clothes and kitchen stuff, there wasn’t much else. Still, it would have been an ego boost to have a musclebound man or two gallantly offering to help. Or even for a new neighbour to stick a head out and greet him. Alas, Jaskier was going to have to live without either of those things happening.

What he did end up having was a knock on his door in the evening when he was staring at his boxes, willing them to magically unpack themselves while he drank his wine. He couldn’t fathom who it was, maybe Valdo had left his phone somewhere yet again. Idiot always had it on silent and kept putting it down in places. Last time, they’d found it in Priscilla’s bathtub. Opening the door, Jaskier blinked at the weathered, older man before him.

“Mr. Pankratz. I trust moving went smoothly. I’m Vesemir, your landlord and wanted to say hello. I trust the flat is to your satisfaction and moving went smoothly. Any issues, I’m on the second floor, feel free to knock.”

A personal call by one’s landlord while sweaty and dirty from a move and pleasantly buzzed from the wine that was clutched in one hand was not Jaskier’s idea of an ideal occurrence but he nodded gratefully. The flat was indeed to his satisfaction. It wasn’t perfect but it wasn’t the absolute shithole he’d fears things would turn out to be.

Of course things don’t go as stunningly well as Jaskier had hoped. Because while the flat was better than most, it was still cheap. Which meant that the washing machine broke down a few weeks into his life in his new home.

Knocking on the door on the second floor, Jaskier felt a little sheepish but Vesemir opened up with a gruff “yes?” that helped words come easier.

“My washing machine is giving me trouble, any chance you could have someone look at it please?”

“I’ll send Lambert this evening.” That was that. Jaskier nodded and returned back home, wondering whether Lambert was the handyman or someone Vesemir trusted.

It turned out, Lambert was one of the most terrifying people Jaskier had ever met. He was spiky and sharp, almost every sentence was punctuated by swearing. It only got worse when Jaskier showed him to the washing machine and left. Initially, it was just grunts and muttered curses but they progressively got louder and more inventive.

“Get to work you bucket of rust and bolts! Or I’m drop kicking your sorry corpse to the nearest tip!” The screaming was followed by loud banging, as if the machine was being punched repeatedly. After a minute of sudden silence, Lambert appeared. “It’s working,” he said and let himself out of the flat.

Almost hesitant to go into the bathroom, Jaskier was stunned to find that the washing machine was merrily chugging away as if it hadn’t been making a death rattle earlier that day. The fist shaped hole in the plaster behind the door was a whole different matter. It was going to be an awkward conversation to have in the morning with Vesemir and Jaskier dreaded to explain that his washing machine worked like a dream but now he had a hole in his wall. How he was going to get the old man to believe it wasn’t Jaskier’s doing was beyond him.

All worries were swept away when, first thing in the morning there was a knock on Jaskier’s door. He was suspicious, especially when he came face to face with a burly, scarred man who looked like he ripped the heads off dolls for living.

“Lambert mentioned you’ll need a bit of plastering. I’m Eskel.”

Too stunned to do anything other than step aside and let man in, Jaskier watched him walk into the bathroom. Half an hour later he was given an almost cheerful wave and the promise of coming back to paint it in a couple of days.

As promised, Eskel was back three days later. Jaskier felt a little braver and trailed after him. Strangely, Eskel seemed shy, he always twisted and turned so the scarred side of his face was hidden from Jaskier. Somehow, it seemed like a habit rather than a conscious decision and it made Jaskier wonder just what had happened to land Eskel with such habits, not to mention such scars. Then again, Lambert had scars as well. Maybe Vesemir had some kind of weird scar fetish he indulged with the handymen he employed.

It didn’t take long to paint the patch and Jaskier was impressed at how well it blended into the surrounding paint. He watched Eskel duck his head shyly at being praised. That was something to file away for later.

The later came a lot sooner than expected because not a month later, Jaskier’s tap gave up the ghost. First on the scene was, as before, Lambert. He looked at the tap like it was offending him on a personal level and Jaskier decided to leave him to it. A wise decision, especially when the clanging of a tap and sink having the ever loving shit beaten out of them started up.

“I could smack my cock and get more of a dribble from it than you piece of shit!” Lambert raged. 

It sounded like Jaskier’s whole kitchen was going to be collateral. Quietly, he just hoped the neighbours don’t think ill of him, surely they all knew Lambert’s unique style of DIY. There was a soft knock on the door and Jaskier was surprised to find a tired looking Eskel offering a soft apology.

“I’ll send Geralt up in a minute. He’s better at plumbing. Let me just get my little spark out of your hair.”

Silently, Jaskier stood aside and gestured for Eskel to make himself at home. He got to watch as there was zero hesitation in Eskel as he stepped into the kitchen with a soft “hey Sparky”. For a few minutes there were only soft murmurs from the kitchen. When the door finally opened again, Jaskier tried not to stare at the linked hands or worry about the fact Lambert seemed to be wearing the hoodie Eskel had arrived in.

A quick peek into the kitchen and it looked surprisingly intact. Deciding to leave it and opt for a delivery for food, Jaskier closed the door. Not half an hour later there was a firm knock on his door. Opening it, a few things flitted through Jaskier’s mind. One, Vesemir definitely had a thing for facial scars. Two, Jaskier had found his muse. Three, he believed firmly in lust at first sight.

“I’m here about your tap. Eskel said Lambert didn’t have much luck with it.”

This must have been Geralt. Jaskier trailed after him into the kitchen and ended up hopping onto the counter to watch him work. Not the most verbose of men but Jaskier found that beauty didn’t come from words.

“I couldn’t quite gather what’s wrong with the tap,” he began, trying to make small talk. “Lambert didn’t say much. Well, he said a lot but nothing of value.”

“That’s Lambert for you,” Geralt rumbled as he shimmied under the sink to look at a pipe. “He usually does electrics and machines, Eskel general decorating and odd jobs while I’m more for plumbing.”

Which was good to know because Jaskier wanted to see Geralt again. It took a couple of hours before water flowed from the tap again but Jaskier was happy to wait. It meant more time watching Geralt get sweaty in small, tight spaces.

From then on, Jaskier had a lot of plumbing issues. As many as he could make up and engineer. Nothing to actually damage the piped but enough to warrant calling Geralt out for them. It also meant he learned a lot about his landlord and the family who owned Kaer Morhen. They were an adoptive family and nothing to do with blood. Ex-army, all served together which explained the scars. While the three younger men called each other brothers, it didn’t stop Lambert and Eskel sharing a flat. It seemed to be a running joke that they all called it saving money and generating more income by freeing up another flat to rent out. However, Jaskier had seen just once how freely affectionate the two were with each other and there was no doubt that the jokes were an old habit while everybody and the world knew just how much those two were very much in love.

Despite all his attempts to draw Geralt out and spend more time with him with artificial problems, Jaskier still found his bathtub was clogging against his will. It was becoming impossible and he had to call Geralt out once more. This time, for a serious matter.

After half an hour of Geralt humming flatly at the issue, he straightened up and looked at Jaskier.

“You need to stop jerking off so much in the bathtub. Your jizz is clogging the pipes. Just use tissue, condoms or even a sock from now on.”

Flushing bright red, Jaskier gawped. “I have never! I mean-” Geralt gave him a half amused look. “Fine. But if you’re so worried about where my come lands, maybe you’d be a willing receptacle for it instead.”

He’d said it out of annoyance rather than anything else but it was too late to take it back. Especially when Geralt kept staring at him.

“I would prefer a dinner date first,” Geralt drawled and stepped closer. They were almost nose to nose.

“Tonight. What time do you finish work?” Jaskier was demanding but he had also had enough of pining from afar. Now was a moment for action rather than dillydallying.

“I have just one job for today. Very annoying resident who keeps calling out for problems he’s obviously created. Once I’ve finished with his bath’s plumbing, I’m off the clock.”

Grinning, Jaskier leaned in. “Well, make it a rush job and don’t be late. I have got my hopes up.”

There was no telling who leaned in first but it didn’t matter. The most important thing was that Jaskier was finally kissing Geralt.

[quinntheebrain]

Two Wrongs pt. 2

Hi! After 10 long years I finally finished the second part. I was little scared to post because I don’t know how much you all will like it (regardless of how much I do). But I hope you enjoy. *goes into hiding*

Warnings: 18+, porn with a plot????????? 

Word count: 9,458 (a little longer than I expected)

It would’ve been wise to listen to your conscience, but you ignored it for the sake of preserving your fantasy. Instead of making the smart decision to leave the Aizawa’s residence without looking back, you spent the weekend playing house with Shouta and his children. For a few moments, they all felt like they belonged to you: the man, the kids, the house. Unfortunately, that moment passed. In an instant, everything in your grasp was ripped away, leaving you with nothing more than obsessive, unrequited, thoughts. 

When Mrs. Aizawa waltzed through the door with a smile on her face, still on a high from the weekend she had, the reality of your situation came crashing down on you. You allowed yourself to play into pleasure and sleep with a married man. A man whose wife had been kind enough to employ you and pay you more than required for your services. A part of you felt filthy for betraying her trust the way you did but the other side of you couldn’t let go of your infatuation with this man. Despite everything, you still wanted him but you knew her unexpected return only meant the worst. 

Satoshi and Eri ran to their mother, trapping her in a hug that said how much they missed her presence. They spent the whole weekend awaiting her return. No matter what you tried, they just couldn’t get their mother off their mind.

You were just a placeholder to them, someone to just barely keep them occupied until she returned. You could never hold a candle to her. You would never replace her. 

Shouta, on the other hand, remained in his seat, continuing to eat his meal. Truly a master of the art of stoicism, he didn’t seem the slightest bit affected by her presence. His eyes met yours for a brief moment and even then you couldn’t tell what was running through his mind. You wondered if he shared the same sentiments as his children. Were you just a placeholder in his eyes as well or did he mean the things he said to you?

“Dinner smells great.” She flashed a bright smile as she skipped past you hand in hand with her children who were practically dragging her to the dining room table. “I’m starving.”

So were you. That’s why you prepared a meal suitable for four people. A meal you planned to eat with Shouta and his children. You wanted to feel like a family. Even if the children were completely oblivious to the implications of this dinner, you’d know it was much more than a housekeeper sharing a meal with her employers. That dinner would’ve been the start of your own familial bond. 

But, she came back. 

Of course. 

Of fucking course she came back. 

Now, you could only watch from the kitchen as she enjoyed a meal meant for you. With the man meant for you. In the house meant for you. With the family you wished was yours. 

Tears fell from your eyes, creating ripples in the sudsy dish water as you looked at how they interacted with each other. She was their mother. Even though you did it all: the cooking and cleaning, helping them with homework and preparing them for bed, making lunches and picking them up from school. She was the one who made their faces light up. She was the one who made them happy. 

How could you be so foolish to think one weekend would automatically change the way they viewed you? Better yet, change anything at all? You took your anger out on the dishes, scrubbing the pans so hard that water splashed back at you. 

“Shit.” You whispered as a pot slipped from your hand and hit the ground. The sound of metal crashing to the floor caught the attention of everyone in the dining room causing them to become silent. They tried peeking into the kitchen to see what happened, but to their surprise, you weren’t there. Your feet carried you up the stairs and away from the kitchen that made you feel like nothing more than a maid. The sound of your quick paced steps made Aizawa excuse himself from dinner to run after you. 

Closing the guest room door behind you, you prayed for a few moments to collect your thoughts. Seeing them together would have never bothered you before this past weekend, but once you let him inside of you things changed. You had gotten a taste of what it’s like to be his and you didn’t want to go on without it. You wanted to always enjoy the feeling of being seen, being admired by Shouta. When you closed your eyes and thought about the moment you two shared, you could practically feel his hands roaming your body. You could feel his breath on your neck, his sweat dripping onto your skin. How would you go on without that feeling? The short answer was, you’d have to. 

You said you’d be there for Shouta but that didn’t mean you’d wait around while he attempted to fix things with his wife. Twice now, the thought of quitting this job crossed your mind but your attraction to Shouta made you stay. Not the money, or the hours which were the things that originally made you take the job. It was him. You suffered day in and day out for the sake of seeing that face and hearing his voice for a few brief moments. There was no way you could walk in this house everyday without feeling resentment toward his wife. She had the luxury of being with the man you dreamed of yet she still chose to cheat and you hated her for that. So, as long as she was here, you couldn’t be. 

Soft knocks at the door forced you to stand your feet, gathering the few items you left sitting in the guest room over the weekend. Shouta softly pushed the door open to find you with your bags thrown over your shoulder. 

“Listen, I need you to believe me when I say I didn’t think she’d come home. I mean that night I sent her screenshots of the transactions, I sent her proof, I told her I knew she was cheating and I wanted nothing more to do with her.” His words came out fast once he realized you were ready to leave. At the very least, he wanted you to hear him out. 

“Did you really think it would be that simple? That a few text messages would be enough?” You laughed harshly. “Her children are here, her life is here. Of course she’d come home.” You were speaking to both yourself and Shouta. He told you she wouldn’t return because he believed it to be true and you chose to believe Shouta simply because it allowed you to remain in his arms for a few nights longer. “God, what was I thinking? I’m so stupid.” 

“No. You’re not stupid.” Shouta stepped closer to you, wrapping his hands around your own. “You didn’t do anything wrong. We’re adults and I really enjoyed what we did.”

“Didn’t do anything wrong?” You scoffed. “I slept with a married man. Regardless of your situation, regardless of her cheating, I made a conscious decision to sleep with you knowing-.”

“You did what?” You lost all feelings in your legs as you locked eyes with Mrs. Aizawa, who ran after you and Shouta solely to make sure you were okay. “Shouta you slept with this woman? In our house? How could you?” Her lips quivered. The grave expression on her face instantly made you feel terrible. 

“Please, don’t play innocent. You started this.” He released his grip on your hands to turn and face his wife. “You’ve been fucking whoever for months now. Did you think I was an idiot? That I wouldn’t notice the late nights and the lingering smell of cologne? You’d run to the bathroom, wash his scent off of you then lay next to me like nothing happened for months.” 

“I didn’t think you cared. You were so distracted by her, shit!” Mrs. Aizawa pointed at you, fingers shaking from anger. “I noticed how you looked at her during the interview, but I let go because I knew she was perfect for the job. Then I saw how you interacted when you had conversations, how you looked at her, how your eyes lit up when she walked into the room and how you’d sulk when she left for the night. But, Eri was feeling so much better so once again, I let it go.” Slapping her hand against her face, she let out a heavy sigh. “But I could only take so much of that, Shouta. Months of feeling unwanted and unattractive. Even when you made love to me I knew you were thinking about her. So I found someone who was attracted to me and only me.” Mrs. Aizawa laughed while shaking her head. “If you would’ve confronted me, showed me some fucking passion or something I would’ve stopped that moment, but you didn’t say a word. I made it obvious on purpose. I wanted to know you still cared.” She cried. 

“You sound crazy. I mean honestly, do you hear yourself? Do I think she’s attractive? Of course, but that’s all it was. You let your insecurities get the best of you. Instead of talking to me about it, you decided to cheat.” Shouta talked through his teeth. He didn’t want to yell and alarm the children. 

“You cheated, too!” Mrs. Aizawa semi screamed, her voice cracking with every word. “Two wrongs don’t make a right, Shouta.” She paused, shutting the door all the way. Stepping past Shouta, Mrs. Aizawa stood in front of you. “And you, after all we’ve done for you I figured you’d show a little gratitude, but you behaved like a low class slut. I will be sure to tell my friends. You will never work again.”

You couldn’t speak if you wanted to; your throat dry and mind racing as a reaction to confrontation. All you wanted to do was cry but you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing you like that. Cowardice, you had the balls to sleep with her husband but not enough to address her like a woman. 

“Leave her out of this.” Shouta spoke up for you. Grabbing his wife’s arm, he turned her around to face him. “I know what I did but we could’ve avoided all this if you had spoken up.” His voice was stern. “We could’ve easily replaced her, but splitting up our family.” He paused, exhaling to calm himself down. “Splitting up our family is hard. That’s why I didn’t say anything. Not because I didn’t care but because I was scared of losing you, losing the kids. I’m still scared of losing you.” Shouta admitted. This family is something they built together. 7 years of marriage down the drain over miscommunication is something he couldn’t fathom. 

It was crazy to see how fast Shouta flipped his narrative, but what hurt more than anything was watching him wrap his hands around her own like he had done to you less than two minutes ago. The only difference was the expression in his eyes; he looked at her like he loved her, something you wish you could experience. 

“I should go. It’s obvious you two have some things to talk about.” You whispered softly, completely broken from the words Shouta said. You were expendable. He’d replace you then all of their problems would be solved. “I’m truly sorry for all of the trouble I’ve caused.” 

You wanted him to follow you, but once you reached the bottom of the stairs you realized that wouldn’t happen. Stepping into the kitchen you waved at the kids, telling them you’d see them tomorrow even though it was a lie. Closing the front door behind you, you let out a heavy sigh. Exiting the Aizawa’s residence was a bittersweet moment. You’d never see him again but knowing your absence would heal their family put you at ease. Your very presence was the reason their marriage was hanging by a thread, so the least you could do was set aside your own selfish desires and leave them be. 

Your commute home was different tonight. Normally you’d spend your train ride thinking about ways to impress Shouta but after tonight you could only think about the damage you’d unintentionally caused both them and yourself. You let lust cloud your better judgement and now you were the only person truly suffering from the decision you made. In the end, Aizawa and his wife had each other, but you were left with nothing. 

After getting off the train, you took a long walk home on purpose. You were in no rush to be in your apartment, confined to solitude and left with your thoughts. You went everywhere you could think of. Your favorite convenient store, the park you loved, you even stopped by a bar for a few minutes, but you could only avoid your home for so long. 

Opening the door to your apartment, you threw your things on the floor and screamed as loud as you could. Being home dragged you back to reality. This was the first time that you actually thought about yourself and the consequences of your actions. You needed that job to pay for school and your apartment. You needed that job for the experience. You threw all of that away for one night pleasure. This whole time you’d been so consumed with Aizawa and trying to be a part of his life that you put yourself on the back burner. 

You walked past the living room, kicking your shoes off along the way. Pushing your bedroom door open, you were met with a mess you left behind, your clothes scattered all over the room. You laughed, thinking about how you spent Friday morning picking out an outfit to impress Shouta. How naive of you to think you to think these trivial things would make him leave his wife. Your laughing turned hysterical as you haphazardly shoved your clothes into your closet. Cleaning your room was just the tip of the iceberg. You’d be cleaning up the mess in your life for a while, but for now you just wanted to rest. Falling onto your bed, you cried. 

You had everything you wanted right in the palm of your hands, but you were forced to let it go. 

—————————-

5 years later. 

You had everything you wanted. Despite some rough patches, you were able to obtain a Master’s degree and finally start your career. You started off in foster homes, working as a behavioral therapist. Then you started your own practice, making a home for children with quirks deemed unfit for society. A place where children who were cast out and abandoned by their families could learn and be loved. 

Grocery shopping was one of your favorite things to do. On Saturday, you spent your mornings roaming the aisles of numerous grocery stores, searching for food that would satisfy your children’s diverse palettes. It was one of the few times a week you got to spend to yourself. You were the manager, you employed your own staff and you were the primary provider for these children. Your days were always busy and your nights were often spent consoling terrified children, so the time you spent by yourself was important for your mental health. It allowed you to unpack any problems you had without being bothered by children or your staff. 

The dreaded snack aisle, the place you spent most of your time. It was important for you to find good, healthy snacks for the kids to enjoy. You stepped on the shelf to grab some applesauce, but your foot slipped and you fell. You were prepared to hit the ground, but you didn’t. The hand pressed against your back kept you stable as you slowly stepped down onto the tile floor. 

“Thank you.” You turned around with a smile that immediately faded when you saw who saved you. The joke you were prepared to make was wiped from your mind and you were only left with thoughts from your past. 

Shouta Aizawa, the man you spent a year forgetting about as you struggled through your final year of graduate school. The man whose touch was so intoxicating that no one else ever came close to giving you the feeling he did. The man who cheated on his wife with you. The reason you swore to never be someone’s side piece or second option again. Honestly, he was the reason you swore off men until you were stable and well rounded. A few years ago if you had run into him, you would’ve fled the store without looking back but now you felt secure and confident about your place in society. 

That didn’t necessarily mean you were excited to see him. It was cringe worthy to think about your former self running from his house, holding back tears. That moment was the closest thing to a heart break you’d ever experienced. It took months of therapy and focus to realize that their relationship problems weren’t your fault, even though you did play a part in what you assumed was their demise. 

“No problem. I would hate to see you slam into the ground.” You pressed your lips together, appearing unamused by his comment. When you didn’t reply, he knew he had spark up another conversation to keep you in his presence for a little while longer. “That’s a lot of groceries.” He peaked around you, looking into your cart filled to the top. 

“Oh, they’re for my kids.” You waved it off with a smile. They were one of the few things that genuinely made you happy. 

“Kids?” He choked. Peering down, he looked for a ring on your finger, but your hands were hidden behind your back. 

“Well not my kids.” You laughed. “I run a facility meant to help kids who were cast out because of their quirks. I’ve taken care of a few of them since birth so they feel like my own.” Your eyes lit up when you talked about them. You loved those children with your whole heart. “But speaking of kids, how are Eri and Satoshi?”

“They’re fine.” He nodded his head. “They’re both doing really well in school. Eri is actually thinking of applying for Yuuei and Satoshi is taking up soccer. It took a while to find Eri a new therapist. She just wouldn’t open up to anybody like she did with you.” 

“That’s good to hear and Mrs. Aizawa?” You whispered, almost afraid to receive an answer. There was a part of you that still cared, a part of you that still wished he would have ran after you 5 years ago. 

“Who knows.” He lifted his left hand, showing off his bare ring finger. That almost meant nothing to you. The last time you saw him without a ring on his finger, he was apologizing to his wife a few days later. “We split shortly after she found out about us. You were the least of our problems, though.”

“I know.” You said confidently. It was nice to hear him say that, though; the reassurance made you feel whole. “I’m glad you got to keep the kids. I can tell how much you care about them.”

“I can see how much you care about yours.” He motioned to your cart again. “Let me get this for you.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Well you didn’t, I offered.” He smiled, pushing your cart along before you had a chance to disagree. 

You followed behind him in shock that he’d do something so nice for you and the kids. Despite his tough exterior, you knew Aizawa was a softie; you thought back to how he used to talk about his students. 

The two of you stood in line, catching up on each other’s lives. You found out that they actually tried couple’s therapy to get over their rough patch but that didn’t help. The two of them were so busy that they could never commit to a time; it was then they realized how little they cared. You make time for the things you want and neither of them were willing to compromise. 

You told him about how it was working in social services. The work was brutal. It took a toll on your mental health seeing children neglected and abused on a daily basis. You were doing what you could to reform the system that villainized kids for something they couldn’t control. 

After paying for your groceries, Shouta escorted you to your car and helped you put your things inside. 

“It was so kind of you to buy those groceries.” Your mouth curved into a smile. Honestly, this profession didn’t make a lot of money. You relied heavily on government grants to care for these kids. “I could never repay you.”

“Let me take you out to dinner?” He said with a cocky grin plastered on his face. Shouta had to see you again and he hoped you felt the same. 

It felt insane to get involved with him after all of these years, but it didn’t feel like a coincidence that he was the one to catch you in the store. You couldn’t deny the emotions that came rushing back when you laid eyes on him. Regardless of the way things ended, your employment and your “relationship”, Shouta crossed your mind every now and then. What was the harm in one date?

“Sure.” You drew your lower lip in between your teeth as he handed you his phone to put in your contact information. 

“I’ll text you later on this week with reservation details.” He pulled you into a hug. “It was so good to see you.” He opened your car door for you, leaning down to get one last look into your eyes. 

“Yeah.” You shook your head. “You too.” He closed your door, leaving you in the car alone.

A small smile formed on your face. After all these years, Shouta Aizawa still had the same effect on you. 

———————————

Why did I agree to this? You flattened your skirt as you stepped out of the taxi. 

You were nervous. When Shouta asked you to accompany him to dinner you thought it was a joke then he sent you reservation details and you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. You used to dream of being on his arm, partaking in the “glamorous” life of a hero. This would be your chance to see how well you fit into his world. 

From the outside you could tell this restaurant was far nicer than anywhere you’d been in a long time. The night of your graduation your parents took you somewhere fancy, but even that didn’t compare. 

Opening the door you were instantly met by a hostess. “Name?” She smiled before looking down at the clipboard clutched in her right hand. 

Clearing your throat, you spoke. “It should be under Aizawa.” You pulled your phone from your purse, prepared to shoot him a text just in case there was a mix up. 

“Would you like to check your coat?” You nodded while removing your trench coat and handing it to the young man stationed on your left. “Right this way.” She placed the clipboard at her side before showing you to your table. 

The outside honestly didn’t do the restaurant justice. Reaching the top of the grand staircase, your eyes twinkled, completely in awe of the decor. Dimly lit chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Large glass windows, draped in navy blue curtains, giving you the perfect view of the city. Flowers and candles adorning every table. And in the corner, was your date for the evening, Shouta Aizawa. 

He spotted you the minute you walked upstairs, completely enthralled by your appearance. Elbows rested on the table with his chin placed on his hands, he watched you carefully with a narrow gaze as you admired your surroundings before catching up to the hostess. As you drew closer, he stood to his feet to greet you. Sending the hostess off, he wrapped you in a hug. 

“This is nice.” You slid into the booth before immediately opening the menu to look at the drink options. You needed liquid courage to make it through the night. 

“Call it a late graduation present.” He smirked at you, removing his phone from the table so you had his undivided attention. “You look amazing.” He sipped his drink slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.  

There was no way you could lie and say you weren’t the least bit excited about the date. You spent the whole afternoon doing your hair and making sure your makeup was perfect. The dark smokey eye and burgundy lip went well with your outfit. A black two piece matching set: a wrapped crop top and a ruched maxi skirt with a slit in it. You matched your jewelry and shoes perfectly with the jacket that you had on earlier.  

“Thank you.” You grinned, happy that he noticed your effort. “So do you.” You didn’t say that because he complimented you, you meant it. His usually unruly hair was pulled back into a low bun, streaks of grey hidden under his black strands. The suit he was wearing fit his body just right, accentuating the muscles his hero costume hid. His neck was normally hidden under his scarf so just seeing it made you feel naughty. But most of all, he looked well rested and the look in his eyes told you he was more than prepared for a long night. 

The two of you started by ordering drinks and appetizers. You assumed that tonight would be boring, full of awkward conversations and quiet moments. But by the time the second round of drinks came out and the waitress brought your appetizers, the two of you couldn’t stop laughing. 

You never realized how much you missed your quick conversations and now that you had more time to elaborate without prying eyes, those quick conversations went on for hours. Shouta always knew you were smart, but the things you talked about tonight showed him just how much you’d grown. You went on about the children you were raising, giving him the details of their quirks asking for advice on handling them. He promised he would come help out one day and that made you happy. He talked about UA, his most recent group of students sounded promising. Shouta was a good teacher, while his methods didn’t sound gentle they were effective when training future heroes. It felt nice to talk to him like this. Two people talking about their professions, sharing wisdom and giving words of encouragement. 

As the night carried on, the two of you moved closer to each other, meeting in the middle of the large, circular booth. Your head rested on his right shoulder, laughing at the jokes he whispered in your ear about the couples sitting near your table. His hand rested on the skin exposed by the slit in your skirt. Even after all these years, nothing satisfied you like his touch. 

The dinner was great. Your entrees weren’t small like you feared they would be. You picked off of his plate, fed him from yours. From the outside, the two of you looked like a great couple and at one point that’s all you ever wanted: to look, speak, act like you belonged next to him. Though it was rare he carried himself this way, you could tell Shouta was made of money and even though he was underground, the status that came with being a hero was always a plus. Now that you’d established yourself, it felt right pursuing something with him. You were no longer his maid, you were a strong woman with your own practice. 

“You ready?” He whispered in your ear as the waitress took your plates. 

You shook your head yes. “Let me go to the restroom while you pay. I’ll meet you downstairs?” You smiled while sliding out of the booth and walking to the ladies’ room. 

You stood in the mirror giving yourself a quick pep talk before exiting the restroom and looking for your date for the evening. 

Shouta watched in awe as you descended the staircase, walking like you owned the place. Heads turning as they passed you by, but you could only keep your eyes on him. There was something he loved about your new found confidence. Something that only made him want you more. He took your hand at the last stair to help you and also to stop the stares from greedy men. 

Like the gentleman he was, Shouta opened the door for you, his hand discretely caressing your ass when you walked by. He followed you to the edge of the sidewalk, where you waited for a taxi to pull up. 

“You didn’t drive?” Shouta placed your coat on your shoulders from behind. He let his arms linger around your waist and he buried his chin in the crook of your neck. You shook your head no and you felt him smile. “Because you knew you’d be leaving with me?” Shouta’s mouth hovered dangerously close to your ear, his cool breath tickling the inside. 

“No, shut up.” You smacked his arm but that didn’t make him move. It actually made him hold you closer. You could feel a bulge growing in his pants. It was nice to know he was just as anxious as you. Truthfully, you knew Shouta was right about your reason for not driving, but you’d never give him the satisfaction of telling him that. “So, where are we going?”

He didn’t answer your question, instead he grabbed your hand and led you down the sidewalk adjacent to the restaurant you just dined at. The night life was so comforting. The two of you moved against the crowd like young lovers who couldn’t wait to get their hands on each other. The constant chatter drowned out the nasty things he said to you so shamelessly. 

The hotel Shouta booked for the weekend was just as nice as the restaurant you went to. He was honestly trying his hardest to wine and dine you. He wanted you to feel special and you did. 

The two your way past the concierge’s desk and onto the elevator. The minute the doors shut behind you, Shouta pinned you in the corner, ghosting his lips over yours. He squinted his eyes, searching yours for any hints of reservations and sense of regret. When he found nothing but adoration in those doe eyes of yours, he kissed you. Instinctively, your body moved toward his. Pushing yourself up from the steel elevator walls, you rested your arms lazily on his shoulders, your fingers caressing the nape of his neck. As the doors opened, he bit his lip while shaking his head, mumbling something along the lines of how he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you. 

The room’s dark interior immediately set the mood. The matte black furniture meshed so well with the dim lights and greenery. You were in the middle of Yokohama, but you felt like you were in the jungle. 

Throwing your jacket over the chair, you allowed the cool air in the room to hit your skin. Hotel air conditioning units always worked better so for the time being, you turned it off. You wanted the room to be warm and muggy. You wanted to see Shouta sweat. 

“Did I tell you how good you look tonight?” Shouta’s hands landed on your hips and unlike earlier you decided to indulge him. 

Rolling your eyes, you pressed against the bulge forming in his pants. “About a hundred times, but I appreciate every single one.” You dropped your head back so you could look him in the eyes. “I’m really glad you invited me out tonight.”

“I’m glad you accepted.” He placed a small kiss on the tip of your nose. “I really missed you.” He released his grip on you, going to sit on the bed. 

“Really? How much?” You smiled, walking to stand in between his legs. 

You felt powerful standing over him but the minute his hand touched your waist, you lost all control. His touch was like a drug for you. You’d done a great job of holding yourself together all night, but you finally allowed yourself to give in to the feeling of passion that made you high. 

Shouta peeled off your outfit, his eyes taking in every inch of your bare skin. You were hardly bashful but the intense glare he was giving had heat rushing to your cheeks. He placed soft kisses on your stomach as he slid your skirt down your legs and held it still so you could step over it. You were left in nothing but your lingerie and the five inch heels you wore tonight. 

The lingerie set you wore was burgundy with hints of gold and orange in the trimming. You wanted something that embodied fall, your favorite season, and this set did just that. The lacy bra did a good job of barely covering your nipples and the underwear were so thin they could be ripped off. One look at you had Shouta ready to take you, but he didn’t want to rush the night. He wanted to savor every moment with you. 

Standing to his feet, Shouta pulled you into a sensual kiss. Your heart pounded in your chest and the familiar feeling of butterflies swirled in your stomach. Eyes closed, you could only focus on the way he made you feel. When you landed on the bed, you let a warm laugh escape your mouth. You were so entranced by the kiss that you hadn’t even noticed he’d turn you around, so he could sit you on the bed. You extended your legs as his fingers gilded gently from your thighs, over your knees and down your shins. Stopping at the straps of your heels, he undid them and pulled them off. 

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath. You looked breathtakingly beautiful. Shouta was upset with himself for letting you walk out his house five years ago, but everything happened for a reason. All that matters is that he had you again and he wouldn’t let you go. “Baby, you really look amazing.” 

You only laughed as you began to undress him. The roles had reversed. Now, Shouta was hovering on you, exuding power and sensuality. Button by button, his bare chest and chiseled abs were exposed to you. It’s as if the curtains were being pulled back and the angels were harmonizing; his body was just that perfect. The man aged like fine wine and you knew it was the hero work that kept him fit. You threw his shirt onto the loveseat in the corner before moving on to his pants. You used one hand to quickly remove the belt and undo his zipper, eager to see his growing cock straining under the confines of his briefs. 

Placing his index finger under your chin, Shouta lifted your head so you were looking up at him. Your wide eyes, beaming with vulnerability, made Shouta smile to himself before leaning down to kiss you, softly at first, and then the kiss became so sloppy, so desperate that it made you dizzy. You placed your hands on his cheeks, gripping his face firmly to keep yourself stable. The kiss never broke, even when you lifted your hips to scoot yourself further on to the bed while Shouta crawled to join you. Once settled on the plush, cotton comforter he used one hand to gently push you back on the bed, while using the other rub circles on your lace covered clit. You moaned into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip inside. Pulling your panties to the side, he pushed two fingers along your slick folds. While his weight was unevenly distributed, you pushed him from on top of you and quickly pinned him down on the bed. 

“Damn.” He mumbled, turned on by the way you tossed him. 

Lowering yourself onto his clothed member, you began to slowly move your hips back and forth. You almost felt like you were too old for dry humping, but when Shouta coughed to keep himself groaning you knew you made the right choice. The friction you created had you both excited for everything tonight had in store. 

Leaning down, you peppered kisses along his neckline, using your tongue to tease the soft spot right above his collar bone. The sounds that escaped his lips were euphoric, making you hum happily as you snagged his ear between your incisors. Smiling, you let your tongue roll from your mouth and licked from his ear to the base of his neck, leaving a trail of saliva along the way. His low groans had transformed into heavy breathing and curse words littered with occasional “please”. You were soaking wet, watching as he squirmed under your touch. You knew his neck was sensitive but his reaction made you think he could cum from this alone. 

Shouta used one to free his cock from his boxers, stroking himself desperately as you assaulted his neck with your teeth. The feeling of him touching himself underneath you sent a shock through your body, making you moan against his neck before switching sides. You focused on the left side of his neck, alternating between open mouth kisses and sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You traced small circles over the trail of saliva you made on the right side of his neck, giving him enough stimulation to make his body stiffen briefly before relaxing with a laugh. You could feel a little of the mess he made on your ass. You took upon yourself to clean him up. Hopping off of him and moving your face toward his dick, you licked him clean before giving him a smile. 

“Such a tease” He growled, earning a laugh from you. 

“Look at what you do to me. Seeing you so vulnerable just-.” You sighed, unable to put the feeling into words. Grabbing his hand, you guided his fingers to your folds, now dripping wet from the sweet sounds he made in your ear. 

Taking his hand back, he sucked the juices off of his finger. Licking his lips in satisfaction, Shouta smirked up at you. “Fuck, you taste the same.” Forcefully pushing you on your back, he pulled your underwear off and spread your legs. “I’ve missed this.” He smiled, rubbing his calloused hands over your moisturized thighs. 

He planted kisses along your inner thigh. The stubble on his chin left behind a strange sensation that only made you want more of his touch. The sassy remark you were about to make about him teasing you was ripped from your throat along with the air you were about to inhale. His warm tongue lapping over your folds was enough to send you into shock for a few seconds. You’d forgotten how generous of a lover Shouta was, but he was quick to remind you. Painfully slow, long licks had you iching for more. Rolling your hips, you fucked yourself against his tongue, making sure he passed over your clit every now and then. 

Once you got used to his pace, he switched it, moving his tongue faster, focusing more intensely on your throbbing bundle of nerves. You placed your hand on his head, gently running your fingers through his black locks. He stopped suddenly, making you whine before plunging two long fingers into your dripping core and securing his lips around your clit. He sucked on you ferociously while continuously pushing his fingers into your g-spot. 

“Shouta.” You moaned, mouth wide open, a drop of drool sliding down your cheek. “Add one more, please.” You begged and when he did as you asked, you rewarded him with a soft moan. 

“I love a woman who knows what she wants.” He talked into your cunt, the vibrations from his voice made you whimper. “I know you’re ready to cum for me.” He quickened the pace of his fingers, twisting them ferociously, yearning for your release. 

Your stomach caved in as a pulsating sensation ran through your pussy. Shouta shook his head, using the flat of his tongue to catch the juices from your orgasm while still stimulating you. 

Lifting his head, you noticed the small string of saliva hanging from his chin. As he crawled closer to you, you pulled him into a hungry kiss. Desperate to taste yourself and also feel his tongue swirl around your mouth. 

“Fuck me.” Even though you were still panting from your first release, your voice was alluring to him. 

His body hovered over yours with his arms on either side of you. He pushed all of his weight to the left side of his body and used his right arm to guide himself inside of you with a hiss. He alternated between quick experimental thrust and rubbing his tip along your folds while he adjusted to how wet and warm you were. 

Rolling his neck, he let out a breathy laugh. “You feel so good.” 

Shouta dropped onto his forearms so he could be closer to you. The sweat forming on his body felt cool against your skin. His forehead rested gently on top of yours. You inhaled the air he exhaled. In this moment, you felt like one. His thrusts were slow and methodical, allowing you to feel everything he had to offer. The love you felt pouring off of him was unlike anything you’d experienced in a long time. Even if you knew he didn’t really love you, it felt like and for the night  you were fine with that. 

His gaze was gentle yet carnal, full of lust and passion. You couldn’t handle it so you closed your eyes much to his disapproval. “Look at me.” He demanded, his low voice sending chills down your spine. Your eyes fluttered open to find him looking smugly at you. 

Your lips found their way to his ear, releasing your low, drawn out moans that only fueled the need fuck you senseless. 

Shouta’s large hands snaked around your neck as his pace sped up; his slightly curved cock slamming into you again and again. He swiftly threw one of your legs over his shoulder, allowing himself more access to the deepest parts of you. The sensation was overwhelming for the both you; you could tell by the way his eyes rolled back and how erratic his strokes became. Removing his hand from your neck, he used the pad of his thumb to put pressure on your clit. 

“Shouta.” You moaned, pushing your head so far back into the mattress that your back started to arch off the bed. His name was the only thing you could think of; you repeated it like a mantra as he drilled into you. 

“Don’t hold it in.” He talked through his teeth, focusing on holding himself together long enough for you to cum first. “Come on baby. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You melted into the mattress as the swirling pressure in your stomach fizzled away. Shouta let your juices flow onto his throbbing dick before pulling out and releasing his seed on your stomach. Flopping on the bed next to you, he sighed in satisfaction. 

“Let me get you a rag.” He smacked your thigh. 

“It’s okay.” You smiled. “I’m just gonna take a shower. Join me?” You whispered seductively. 

“No.” He laughed at your pouting face as he rolled from the bed and walked to the bathroom. He was never big in sharing showers and he would use your brief absence to get some work done. “But you enjoy yourself.” You stood to follow him in the bathroom and run the water. 

He wiped himself down before leaving you in the bathroom by yourself. Stepping into the black marble shower, you felt instant relief on some of your sore areas. The hot water and the steam relaxed your body in a way only a nice drink after a long day could. Sitting on the bench in the shower, you let the water run over your legs. Head pressed against the wall, you thought about the day with the goofiest smile plastered on your face. Shouta really made you feel like a child, giddy from the flashbacks of the evening. 

You washed yourself off using the hotel’s soap. The strong yet relaxing scent of eucalyptus was in their products and you loved it. Rising yourself off one final time, you stepped out of the shower and dried yourself off. Wrapping the towel around you, you stepped into the bedroom. 

“I actually didn’t bring any clothes.” Your voice caught his attention, pulling off his glasses he turned in the desk chair to face you. You bit the inside of your cheek, hoping he’d have something for you. “I wasn’t expecting this.” You motioned to the hotel room. Except, a part of you was expecting this, hoping he’d whisk you away for a romantic week. 

He walked to the closet, pulling out a suitcase and throwing you one of his many black, long sleeved shirts. It stopped mid thigh on you so you were fine roaming the room with no underwear on. Shouta returned to his spot at the desk, watching you look at yourself in the mirror.  

“Looks good on you.” He patted his lap and you ran to sit in it. 

“You think so Eraserhead.” He nodded with a laugh while running circles on your bare thigh. “That means so much coming from you.” You teased. Looking at his tablet, you realized he was doing work. “Hey! No work.” You smiled, locking his device before hopping off of his lap and making yourself comfortable in between his legs on the floor. 

“You won’t let me rest will you?” He laughed. “I’m not young anymore.” He bit his lip while looking at you settled on your knees, groping his cock through his sweats. The second you felt him grow, you stripped him of his pants and boxers. 

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, allowing all the saliva you collected to slowly drip onto Shouta’s semi erect dick. In one swift motion, you swallowed him whole, wanting nothing more than to feel him grow in your mouth. As you felt him getting harder, you pulled off his cock, opting to run the flat of your tongue along his shaft before swirling around his tip and giving it a quick kiss. 

Shouta had enough of your teasing. Placing his hand on the back of your neck, he guided you down his length, setting a pace that was pleasurable for him. Your eyes squeezed shut as you forced all of him into your mouth, bobbing your head and hollowing out your cheeks. 

“You’re doing great, baby.” He pushed your hair out of your face. “Just like that.” 

You hummed in satisfaction at his praise, sending vibrations down his now fully erect cock. You managed to make it to the base, opening your mouth wider, your tongue rolled out of your mouth to lick his balls. He hissed at the sensation, thrusting his hips up so you could do it again. 

You ignored your gag reflex and your need for air. The only thing that mattered was pleasing him. Tears formed as Shouta picked up the pace, fucking your throat mercilessly. Heat began to pool between your legs. Sending one hand down, you toyed with your clit, making you moan around his cock. 

“I see you touching yourself.” His words came out slow. “If you want to fuck again, you’re doing the work this time.” You nodded as you pulled his dick from your mouth. 

Standing to your feet, you turned around giving him a view of your ass. Bending over, you reached your arm through your legs, grabbing his length and giving it a few pumps. Shouta smacked your ass while you aligned his dick with your entrance and sunk down on him. 

“Shit.” You both moaned, completely in love with the feeling of him stretching you out. 

You remained still before sinfully rolling your hips. Shouta’s hands shot to your waist, steadying you and halting your movements as he enjoyed the feeling of his cock inside of you. 

Gripping the armrests of the chair to steady yourself, you started to bounce on his length. His grip on your waist tightened, keeping him somewhat in control of your speed. This feeling was amazing. Shouta had flashbacks of the first time you rode him and your skills had only gotten better. The way you clenched around him as you raised and fell on to his thick cock had him seeing stars. 

His hands moved from your waist underneath the shirt you were wearing to grope your breast. He pinched both of your nipples, rolling them between your fingers, sending a tingling sensation down your spine. Your head fell back onto his shoulders, and your mouth dropped open. Shouta nibbled on your ear, only adding to the overwhelming stimulation you were feeling. 

“Kitten.” He moaned into your back before biting down on your shoulder. 

Kitten? The term of endearment he only ever called you in your dreams. Heat rushed between your legs and to compensate for the feeling you bounced even harder. Shouta noticed your increase in speed and thrust up matching your pace. 

At this rate, Shouta would cum any minute. 

He lifted you off of his length, allowing himself a few seconds to collect his thoughts. Standing up, Shouta bent you over the bed to take control. His thrusts were quick and powerful, pushing deeper into you with every stroke. He rubbed your pussy, spreading your slick to your ass before licking his thumb and sliding it into your puckered hole. Your hands flung out to grab the sheets, grab something to keep you sane. Muffled moans letting him know, you liked the new sensation. 

“You look so pretty like this.” Shouta used his free hand to continuously slap your ass. You whimpered from the harsh contact, only making you wetter by the second.

Removing his finger from your asshole, Shouta grabbed both of yours arms behind your back, using them to pull you back on his cock and keep you from running from his strokes. 

“Any louder and we’ll have complaints.” His gruff voice made you weak in the knees. “Fuck, your close. I can feel it.” 

It didn’t take him long to learn your body. Shouta was an observant man; he knew how to make you feel good and he knew when you were about to cum. He was the perfect lover. 

Your arms fell to your side as Shouta released his grip on them, opting to use his right to push down on the small of your back while the left made its way to your mouth. He placed his thumb in your mouth, allowing you to twirl your tongue around it before he pulled on the corner of your lips, hooking you like a fish that fell for the bait. He propped one of his legs up on the edge of the bed, fucking you from an angle that made your whole body tremble, especially your legs, virtually reduced to putty as he pounded into your sweet spot. 

Shouta was close too. You could feel it. His cock throbbing inside of you, ready for his own release. He snapped his hips into you one last time, balls smacking your cunt. You sunk into the mattress, completely worn out from the night as your final orgasm rushed through you. 

“Don’t.” You stopped him from pulling out of your aching cunt.  You wanted to feel his warm seed inside of you. 

Shouta pulled out of you slowly, leaving you feeling empty. You could feel the mix of your juices running down your leg. It was more than satisfying. 

You could fall asleep right where you were: still bent over the bed, ass in the air. You had a busy day and tonight was the stress reliever you needed. The sensation of a warm washcloth against your pussy made you melt. Shouta cleaned you off, making sure he got everything that was dripping 

“Do you need anything?” He pressed a lingering kiss on your cheek, making the corners of your mouth turn up. 

“A water would be nice.” You said while crawling into the bed and getting comfortable under the covers. 

Shouta grabbed you a water bottle from the minibar and put on his sweatpants before joining you in the bed. He wrapped his arms around, pulling you closer to his warm body. 

“You remember what you said to me?” Shouta whispered in your ear. His voice husky from how tired he was. You shook your head no, taking a sip of your water. “I know now might not be the time, but when it is, I’ll be here for you.” He repeated your words verbatim. “Now is the time.”

You flipped over to face him. “Listen, I was naive then but now I don’t have time for lies. I have kids to worry about and I don’t need my ment-.”

Shouta shut you up with a kiss. A searing kiss that made you warm all over. “I’m sorry for how I treated you all those years ago. I knew how you felt about me and I took advantage of that, but I’m serious this time. I don’t believe in fate but I’m so glad I ran into you at the supermarket. I know this is sudden seeing as how we just reunited, but I’m ready whenever you are.”

“I’m ready now.” Sleepiness washed over you, it almost felt like you were dreaming when he said those words. “Let’s just start slowly, okay.” 

You didn’t want to rush things and he completely understood. The two of you had just found each other and given your past, you were right to be cautious. 

“Perfect.” He placed a kiss on your forehead and you smiled. Closing your eyes, you nodded off to sleep. 

When you woke up in the morning, Shouta was in the process of placing the room service he ordered on the desk. You yawned with a stretch, catching his attention. 

“Morning.” He smirked at you, bringing you the tray of breakfast. “Sleep well.”

“What are you doing up early?”

“It’s 11:30.” He deadpanned, pointing to the clock. “Your phone has been ringing like crazy. I tried waking you up but you wouldn’t budge.” 

You raised an eyebrow, grabbing your phone and looking at your call log. You realized it was one of your employees that called you multiple times and immediately called them back. She told you one of the kids was having an episode and only wanted to see you. Jumping out of the bed you threw on your skirt from last night and tucked Shouta’s large black shirt into it. 

“Everything okay?” His brows drew together as he watched you frantically gather your things. 

“No, one of my babies isn’t feeling well.” You explained. “I’m so sorry but I really have to go.”

“But you didn’t drive. Let me take you. Maybe I can help.” He followed your lead, grabbing his things and putting on some clothes. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“What did I say last night?” His question was rhetorical. “You have me, now. Nothing you ask me to do would be an inconvenience. I want to help.” He said, making you pause in your tracks. 

Walking up to him, you planted a gentle kiss on his lips. “You really are perfect. Now, let’s go.” Grabbing his hand you rushed out of the hotel. 

It was a simple gesture but it meant so much to you. Also, it wasn’t the first thing Shouta did for you and your children. He was willing to drop his relaxing weekend to help you. He was willing to deal with you, your kids and everything else you had to offer because he knew you would do the same for him. This whole time you’d been trying to see how you fit into his work when the real question was how would he fit into yours. 

The way things looked, the two of you would be just fine. 

[djarinispunk]

Beautiful, Dirty, Rich - Loki Laufeyson Mafia AU

Chapter Four - Spoiled

You had only been back in New York for four days and already you felt as though you needed a break away. You knew that following the whole Paris ordeal and the consequential wasting of your fathers money meant that you were in no position to ask for a vacation. So in turn, you had to settle for retail therapy.

Only it wasn't working, you'd already browsed a number of high end stores by noon only to be left feeling flat and bored. When did shopping become so mundane?

That being said, it hadn't stopped you from spending a hefty amount on miscellaneous items, feeling a sort of satisfaction when you swiped your fathers card. Although it did infuriate you that with his income, he wouldn't even notice your expenditure.

It was a Saturday, meaning the mall was swarming with socialites. Private school pupils gathered by the fountains to gossip. The sugar babies of New York's elites seemed to swipe cards everywhere you turned. It was like a playground for the snobs of society, although, you were in no place to judge, as you cast your eyes down to the mass of bags you had accumulated.

Feeling your phone vibrate in your purse, you groaned, eyes scanning for somewhere to sit, settling when you saw a small café nestled in the corner of the floor you were on.

Not even bothering to check the caller ID you answered the phone with a huff, "Hello?"

"Is that anyway to greet your father?" you had to stop yourself form slamming your head against the glass table, why did you even pick up?

"Sorry, what did you need?" you sighed, wanting the call to be as painless as possible.

"Can I not just call my daughter? Why do I need a reason?" his voice was woven with that accusatory tone he always seemed to use. It was one thing you could pinpoint about his personality that was directly caused by the mafia, he was always so on edge, like everyone was after him.

"Of course not." you tried your best not to snap at him, knowing it would anger him further.

"Anyway, I need you to attend a dinner with me tomorrow night."

So he did need something.

"Uh, sure, what's it for?" you made a mental note to ask Sophia if she too would be in attendance.

"Myself, Laufey and his son are meeting to discuss things."

Things. That could mean anything when it came to the mafia. Who they were going to kill next. Who they were going to sue next. Who they were going to employ next. You hated the uncertainty, it only reminded you of how insignificant you were in the grand scheme of things.

It also reminded you that Loki Laufeyson existed.

After the Gala, you had recouped with Sophia and tried to get all the information that she knew about him. She didn't have much to offer, just rumours she had heard from Charles about his past sexual escapades and childish drama, nothing exciting.

He gave you the creeps.

"So why do I have to come?" you tried not to sound as ungrateful as you were, you didn't want to spend three hours in some stuffy conference room.

"I'm sure Laufey will bring his new wife, and Loki is sure to bring a date."

You tired not to outwardly cringe at the thought of being your fathers date, but you also understood your father didn't have time to find a new wife in the span of a day. So, reluctantly you agreed.

Your father gave you the address of the restaurant you'd be going to with the instruction to, "Arrive at seven, sharp." and with that, he hung up on you, goodbyes weren't a common thing between you two.

You threw your phone into your purse with a deep exhale, you wouldn't even have Sophia to make the dinner less painful. You'd suffer alone.

How dramatic of you.

Deciding you'd had enough of browsing, you got up to leave, catching the glare of the workers whose table you had occupied. You slipped a bill on the table and gave them a tight smile, oops.

You wished you could say you got to the exit painlessly, that you left the mall and walked home in the sun with no troubles. But as always, life wasn't kind to you.

First it was the hair, that familiar black that seemed to shine from root to tip. The hair alone wasn't enough to make you question the identity of the stranger walking only a few feet away from you. However, when you caught sight of the black suit and the company of Charles Buckley, you knew it could only be one person. One person who seemed to be everywhere you turned recently. One very annoying person.

Loki Laufeyson.

Thankfully hadn't seen you make a mad scramble for the nearest store, that store of course, being of the lingerie variety. Your thought process was that if you hid out in there for long enough, he was sure to be gone by the time you regained your composure.

But once again, life wasn't kind to you.

You were seeking refuge by the bra section, pretending to be overly interested in a particular style of lace when you felt that low voice in your ear.

"Wouldn't have thought you were the type to wear white." he said, hands dusting over the material of the straps. His voice was in that tone again, the same he had used at the bar only days prior, it was dangerous how seductive he could be with only his voice.

"I'd hope you wouldn't be thinking about me at all, Laufeyson." you feigned disinterest as you began to walk around the store, him hanging around behind you, following your every move.

"At the thought of you darling, I've done a lot more than think." You turned to glare at him, rolling your eyes in defeat when he wore that cocky smirk. He was so full of himself.

"So you've resorted to stalking me now?"

"You do think highly of yourself don't you dear?" he was smiling at your discomfort, still hot on your tail as you wandered through the boutique.

"I don't know, after the Gala I think I'm right to assume you'd try to talk to me again." you picked up a random pair of underwear, noticing the way the clerk was eyeing you and the man behind you, this way you could buy something and get the hell out.

Loki snatched the hanger form you before you'd protest, scanning the underwear, much to your embarrassment, "Red? How cliché." he smirked, you felt your cheeks heat up; whether it be from anger, humiliation, or a healthy mix of the two.

"You're insufferable Loki. I really mean that." you scoffed, retrieving the panties back and storming away.

But of course, Loki was still following you like a lost puppy, a lost puppy you wanted to kick, "I'm wounded, darling. I really thought we were becoming friends."

You turned abruptly, causing Loki to stumble only ever so slightly. "As an asshole once said to me, don't flatter yourself."

"Quoting me, that's bold." you could see he was enjoying this, much to your annoyance, he liked the back and fourth. You however, not so much.

"No Loki, what's bold is you following me around, commenting on my underwear choices, like the matter has anything to do with you." you snapped, anger seeping into your tone as you tried not to raise your voice too much in the middle of a public place.

Loki was silent for a pause, seemingly taking in your words, but of course his pensive face was just a mask for his childishness as he soon replied with a smirk, "Oh but it will, you'll see." you didn't have time to respond before he spoke again, this time checking his watch, "As much as I'd love to stay and chat I have a dinner to plan. I'll see you tomorrow darling."

And then he was gone, as quick as he came, and you were free to groan, aloud this time. Finally alone, you made your way towards the register, where a slightly bemused clerk was already watching you.

"Boyfriend?" she asked, and you had to stop yourself from declaring her fired on the spot.

"No." you said, the harshness of you voice enough to wipe the playful smile off of her face.

"Oh, okay." you watched as her cheeks immediately went a shade of fuchsia, " Will those be all?"

You looked down at the underwear as you handed it to the clerk, eyes immediately darting to the other pair of underwear, the one you knew you hadn't picked up.

You glared at the pair in your hands.

It was certainly more revealing than the other pair you'd picked up. And the colour? A deep emerald green. Not too dissimilar to the shade of the handkerchief that was sitting in that bastards suit jacket.

You left the boutique with one thought, and that was that you wanted to strangle Loki Laufeyson.

@cynic-spirit

[beautifulblhell]

A Kaleidoscope Of Colours Ch 1 (Finder Fic)

Pairing: Asami Ryuichi x Takaba Akihito

Summary: Having hated alphas for most of his life, the last thing Akihito wanted was to fall in love with an alpha. Except fate decided to reunite him with Asami. High school x omegaverse AU fic WC: 6099

Read it on: AO3

Chapter 1: Cherry Blossom Pink

Alphas are superior.

While it was true that alphas were born with good-looks and were physically superior to betas and omegas, and even if most of the top spots for the national exams were occupied by alphas, the automatic pass to ascend to the elite world, lord around others and arrogantly discriminate the omegas just because they were an alpha pissed Akihito off royally. That’s what had been instilled into everyone’s mind since the moment they were born, and society just accepted that as the truth.

‘Superior’ my ass, Akihito thought angrily as he agilely scaled up the tall iron gate. With a kick, he jumped off from the top and landed on the ground with a light thud.

“Hey, what do you think you are doing here?!”

Sure, they didn’t have to deal with those inconvenient heat cycles and take time off work, but most of the time they didn’t even work much themselves, only sitting on top of their ‘thrones’ and working others like slaves in a company that their forefathers had left them.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!”

Bunch of good-for-nothing leeches.

“Listen here, you punk-“

A man -whom Akihito assumed to be a security guard from his outfit- ran across the school ground and accosted him in a menacing voice. He reached out a hand to grab Akihito by the shoulder but instead-

“Eh- Argh! It hurtsssss!!”

Accompanying the shrieks were dull crunching noises as Akihito bent the guard’s hand in a direction that no human hands were supposed to.

“Argh! Wait wait wait, please let go!”

Akihito slowly faced the guard. The guard stopped struggling the moment he saw the deep-seated rage behind Akihito’s eyes, his fear temporarily eclipsing his pain. Beads of cold sweat ran down his face and he tried to smile, his lips twitching. He gulped noisily, then stuttered, “U-uh sir? How may I help you?”

“Is this Yozen Academy?”

“Sure is, sir. Um, may I ask if you have any business here?” The guard laughed nervously, his eyes flickering desperately side to side, probably hoping for reinforcements, but it seemed that even Satan had turned a blind eye to his plight.

“Sure do.”

Following those words, in one swift movement, Akihito delivered a roundhouse kick straight at the man’s abdomen. The guard sailed through the air, followed by a dull thud as he landed heavily on the ground.

“...”

There was no movement.

Akihito walked over and stared in disbelief at the unconscious figure lying limply there. He nudged the man with his shoes, but the foam trickling from the guard’s mouth was his only response.

At least he was still alive. Probably.

A one hit K.O. huh. What kind of lame-ass security did they employ that faints from a single kick?

That… did not satiate his burning rage one bit.

He had been expecting to face at least quite a few veteran guards so he came with the intent to fistfight God if he had to, but this… this single minion took only a moment for Akihito to finish. In fact, seeing that he was able to deal with this in one blow did nothing but flame his irritation even more.

Akihito cracked his knuckles, scowling. Guess his target will receive his full wrath then.

“Well, pardon the intrusion.”  He stepped over the body as he said so. Narrowing his eyes, he scanned his surroundings.

Before him stood Yozen Academy, one of the most prestigious alpha-only high schools in the country. Only the most influential, wealthy, and powerful people around the world could send their alpha children to.

An imposing white building with an oppressive architectural style sprawled out in front of him, with wings adjoined on either side, giving the impression that Akihito was stepping into the mouth of a monster. It donned several stories high. Instead of making the building seem open, the giant glass windows seemed more like soulless eyes, gazing emptily at Akihito. Trees lined up the road leading towards the main entrance  with the track fields and sports courts could be seen off to the side.

Heck, whose decision was it to make this school so huge?! I’m gonna need Google Maps to navigate around this monstrosity. He ran a hand irritably through his bleached blond hair.

Finding his target in such a vast space was going to be difficult. Akihito tried not to let his annoyance stop him. A few students had exited the building, then, after seeing Akihito, they all doubled back in panic, slamming the door with a loud bang. As if a door could stop Akihito.

Such a nice welcome, and here I thought that they taught manners at this fancy school.

It didn’t help that Akihito wasn’t trying to blend in. While all the students were in pristine white uniforms, excellently tailored that screamed ‘I’m made of money!’, Akihito wore the more plain black gakuran with his sleeves rolled up. The white t-shirt he wore underneath was emblazoned with the kanji “fire’ along with a drawing of flames. Plus, he carried a wooden bat with suspicious dark red stains dried on to it on his shoulders.

So yeah, not very inconspicuous.

Akihito stared moodily at the building, contemplating whether to charge in or wait it out, since he was apt to get lost in that huge building if he went in. As he was thinking, an old bald guy with a shiny forehead that refracted the sunlight, blinding Akihito temporarily, stuck his head out from a window and then quickly retracted, like those whack-a-moles in arcades. Akihito knew that he would be calling the police.

Ahhh, damn, gotta act fast. It would be a pain in the ass if the police come. Not that he minded, since he could lead them on another motorcycle chase. But Akihito was losing his patience and his self restraint was getting tired at this point, ready to snap anytime. Well, gotta get him out of there first. And to do that? Akihito took a deep breath.

“COME THE HELL OUT OF THERE, YOU PIECE OF CRAP ALPHA!”

Hundreds of faces peered at him from the square glass windows. To be honest, Akihito didn’t specify which alpha he was looking for, but seeing so many alphas looking at him, Akihito couldn’t resist saluting his middle finger at them as a greeting. The horrified faces granted him a tiny bit of satisfaction.

Probably never had anyone act like this towards them, especially an omega, Akihito sniggered inwardly.

It was then a door from the left wing of the building opened, and a single person walked out, his back towards Akihito. He had a lean physique and wore the same white school uniform as the rest of the students here, however, he had a presence that was impossible to ignore. A striking presence that commanded everyone’s attention around him, but also emitted a quiet coldness that warned people off.

A tall muscular black haired alpha, had an imposing air. Kou had said angrily while Takato had his arms around a sobbing Yuriko. He probably said a name, but as he had just told Akihito what happened with Yuriko, it rocketed in one ear and out through the other.

Yep, found him. With his temper hanging on by a thread, he stalked towards the boy.

“Oi, I finally found you, you little-“

Hearing his voice, the young man turned around in surprise. The moment their gazes locked, Akihito jerked to an abrupt standstill. Whatever words that were in Akihito’s throat evaporated, along with any coherent thoughts he had.

That spring day during Akihito’s sixteenth year, his world exploded into a kaleidoscope of colours.

The light spring breeze sighed softly through the cherry blossom trees in the courtyard, creating a soft pink snowfall. Petals danced and swirled around them, seemingly full of life, as if gently beckoning them to be closer, creating a veil that separated them from the rest of the world, a space where it was only them two.

Through the branches, soft sunlight filtered through, basking the young man’s features in its warm rays, and Akihito’s eyes widened, his need to breathe forgotten.

The alpha’s beauty was ethereal. His soft black hair fluttered in the wind, framing his handsome features. His eyes were a striking deep golden colour, which widened in surprise when they saw Akihito.

“Aki...hito?”

The words were spoken so softly, and amidst the sound of the branches shuffling against each other, it was almost impossible to hear, but the gentle wafting air drifting amidst the blooming flowers carried the young man’s voice to Akihito, along with a delicate sweet fragrance, tickling Akihito’s nose.

Time seemed to have stopped and the whole world ceased to exist. Inside the whirlwind of blossoms, it was a space where nothing mattered, only them, reflecting so clearly in each other’s eyes.

“Pretty bold of you to bring your omega to school, Asami,” The atmosphere was instantly killed by an obnoxious voice that drew from behind him.

As if someone poured cold water over him, the adenoidal voice sent Akihito crashing back into his disordered senses. Reality was a bitch.

For a moment or two, he stood there in stunned silence. He was dimly aware of the voice of the newcomer, but his mind was not processing the meanings. He was overwhelmed by the unexpected welter of emotions swelling up inside of him. Emotions that he had never experienced before, emotions that he doesn’t have a name for, that sent his heart pounding, his blood pumping furiously in his veins, carrying a warm feeling, spreading through his entire body. As if someone had played a melody, and his heartstrings were vibrating along with every cadence.

The anger he was just feeling earlier was being painted over with confusion.

Heck, what is this? This- this feeling-

“Sakazaki.” The voice was cold and deep. The mere sound sent a jolt through Akihito like he touched a live wire. Slowly, he turned around. The black-haired alpha was now standing between him and the newcomer.

“Is that another Kuroyama High omega?” The obnoxious voice carried an unnecessary arrogant tone.

Hearing that, Akihito shakes himself out of his daze and mentally slapped himself to focus on the reason he came here in the first place. He pushed aside the pretty alpha in front of him and faced the irritating newcomer.

“Why do you mean, ‘another’?”

The newcomer was another alpha who exuded extreme arrogance as he stood with his hands in his pockets, unbothered by Akihito’s tone. His head was tilted back as he looked down on Akihito through his glasses. He sprouted the most awful looking scraggly beard Akihito had ever seen on a human. Half of his shirt button was open, revealing a rather hairy chest.

The goatee guy leered at Akihito, “Well, there was a little omega who wore the same cheap uniform as you who came onto me recently.”

It took Akihito a moment to realize in his still confused state that this was the person Kou was talking about.

The anger that had subsided started to brew up again. He hissed through his teeth, “She never came onto you.”

The goatee guy appraised Akihito with slimy dark, cold eyes that reminded Akihito of the dead fish at the outdoor fish markets. He then shrugged and leered, “Why does it matter? Omegas should just obey the will of the alphas, since the only useful thing they can do is to spread their legs for us. Isn’t this why you came over? Wanting to find an alpha to look after you?”

A waft of a heavy sickly sweet smell, like an overripe fruit that has been left for too long and turned rotten suddenly brooded over the air.

“Sakazaki.” An angry warning tone suddenly sliced through the air as the black haired alpha stepped forward. In an instant, an intimidating aura came crashing down and the air froze over. For a brief moment, the goatee guy seemed surprised by the young man’s anger, but in the haze of his anger, Akihito barely registered the smell and the exchange.

If there was a type of person that Akihito hated the most, it was alphas. Looking down and trampling the effort of others without working hard themselves, and acting as though they could do no wrong. As if it was all a privilege that came with the status of being born as an alpha.

Akihito gripped the bat so tightly in his hand that the wood creaked. The rage that he had suppressed earlier came roaring back to life in his ears. “Listen here, you piece of crap that is worse than the dog shit I nearly stepped onto this morning-“

The rest of his words were drowned out by the sound of several cars coming to a screeching halt in front of the gate and of vehicle doors slamming shut. The iron gate opened, welcoming in a swarm of men in black. They came charging towards them.

“That’s him, the delinquent with a bat !” A wheezing voice screamed above them. Akihito scowled as he saw the whack-a-mole guy pointing at him from the windows.

“Leave.” The raven haired alpha said over his shoulder. He was still standing protectively in front of Akihito. But Akihito doesn’t listen. The flames of his anger had burnt down the last shred of his self control. He ducked to the side and aimed a heavy kick between the legs of the goatee alpha.

The goatee guy had fast reflexes, Akihito had to give him that. He dodged, barely missing Akihito’s kick, but Akihito was quicker as he followed through with his second strike.

Before the goatee guy could see it coming, Akihito’s fist slammed into his abdomen with full force. And exactly half a second later, Akihito’s other first landed on the goatee guy’s cheekbones, sending his glasses flying. All he saw was red. Anger, that every alpha he had encountered had treated omegas like shit, and anger, at his own helplessness when he was weak and could do nothing but watch. He was just pulling his hand back to permanently rearrange the Goatee guy’s face when his arms were stopped.

Cool fingers grabbed his wrists tightly, and an angry voice hissed in his ear.

“You need to leave.”

The moment Akihito heard the voice, it pulled him out of the red mist that so often controlled him when he was angry. He blinked in surprise, then all of a sudden, the feeling of the ground beneath his feet vanished. His vision titled, and a cloudless expanse of clear blue filled his vision. At first, his eyes were taken away by the beauty of the petals dancing amidst the blue backdrop, but then the shouts of surprise brought him back to his senses.

By then, the black haired alpha had already kicked off the ground and jumped on the high walls surrounding the school effortlessly.

While carrying Akihito in his arms bridal style.

As soon as the young man made a soft landing on the other side of the wall, he dropped Akihito onto his feet.

“Leave,” he repeated, his tone final, leaving no room for argument. His eyes were hard. If it was anyone else hearing that tone, they would have no doubt scuttled away by now.

But the words simply rolled off Akihito with absolutely no effect on him.

Akihito gaped at him. The whole process has been so fast that his mind had barely kept up with what had happened, but now that his two feet were back on the ground, his initial surprise abetted and indignation and embarrassment replaced it. “You- What the hell do you think you were doing?!” To be carried like that, Akihito had no face to show to the rest of the gang.

The young alpha’s eyebrows pulled together seeing Akihito’s uncooperative attitude. He opened his mouth, but the commotion on the other side of the wall disrupted him.

“They went over the wall. Catch them!” Thundering footsteps could be heard coming towards them.

The young man clicked his tongue in annoyance and without answering Akihito, he grabbed his hand.

The moment their hands touched, a bolt of electricity ran through Akihito’s hand. Akihito gasped as both of their hands jerked from the contact. An expression of surprise mirrored on both of their faces, before the golden-eyed alpha set his jaws and wrapped his hands around Akihito’s once more. The place where they were touching seemed to be burning.

Then they sprinted into the bright spring morning. The young man was fast, with his damn long legs, but Akihito had no problem keeping up. Giving the severity of the situation, that he had invaded one of the most elite high school in Japan and attacked a son of a probably-very-important figure either in the government or the corporate world, he should probably be panicking at the amount of trouble he would be in, but for some reason, his heart felt light, and everything around him seemed to be more colourful and brighter than before.

They both finally stopped when they reached the middle of a bustling street. Strands of the young man’s carefully combed dark hair had fallen into his eyes. He roughly pushed them back before turning towards Akihito, his jaw tight, which only helped highlight his cheekbones and show off his jawline.

“Why do you never listen?”

“What is that supposed to mean? ”Akihito pulled his hand back and scowled, “I didn’t ask for your help. I could have beaten them on my own.”

The young man narrowed his golden eyes. “They are professionals.”

Akihito shrugged. He knew but that doesn’t mean he was going to admit he couldn’t defeat them. Well, not all of them, anyway.

“Why did you help me? You’re an alpha.”

The young man seemed visibly confused. “What’s that got to do with me helping you or not?”

“Alphas think they are superior right? Like that hairy gorilla guy with the ugly goatee earlier. You think the rest of us are below you.”

His golden eyes hardened a fraction when Akihito mentioned the arrogant guy.

“Don’t put me in the same league as Sakazaki. That doesn’t mean all alphas act like that.”

Akihito snorted. “Sure, you might pretend that you are nice at the beginning, but in the end, you’ll leave. Someone I know deserted me once he knew he was an alpha and I was an omega. I hope that asshole lives happily ever after.”

The alpha suddenly stiffened, a flash of pain entered his eyes before he shifted his gaze away.

Akihito felt that he said something that shouldn’t have been said, but the sun can start orbiting around the moon before he apologies to an alpha.

They looked in the opposite direction, neither one willing to break the awkward silence between them.

That was when Akihito caught sight of a small figure standing hesitantly amongst the throng of people. The little boy looked left and right, his big eyes welling up with tears as he looked helplessly around him.

Akihito walked up to the child.

“Hey kid, can’t find your parents?”

“My mother… I can’t find her.” The boy’s voice was trembling from holding back his tears.

“Mother, huh,” There was a twinge of sadness in Akihito’s voice, but before anyone could take note of it, he squatted down so he was eye-level with the small child, and smiled brightly, patting the boy on his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you to find her!”

At first, the boy looked relieved, but as soon as he saw the bat Akihito had in his hand, his lips quivered and broke out into tears.

“I want my mummy!”

“Hey- wait! Why are you crying?!” Akihito tried to soothe the child, but to no avail. He turned around and looked at the young man in a panic, “Hey you! Don’t just stand there, do something!”

The young man looked as if Akihito asked him to summon up a pink elephant and alien and teach them waltz.

An old lady ambled up to them and clicked her tongue, “Young people nowadays, you think it’s alright to skip school and hang around in town and cause a ruckus at this hour of the day?” She took one look at the crying child and raised her voice even higher, “And exhorting money from an elementary school kid! Shame on you! This is why society is going downhill nowadays! I’m going to call the police and they’ll sort you out!”

Akihito was just about to argue that it wasn’t his fault that society is the way it is now when the old lady’s hand shot out with surprisingly nimbleness and wrenched the bat out of Akihito’s grasp.

“Hey! Give that back!”

But the old lady turned up her voice to maximum volume, so it sounded as if she was speaking through a megaphone.

“Talking back to your elders now, are you?! And what are you doing walking around with a weapon like this, threatening upstanding citizens like myself in this area?”

By now, a small crowd of onlookers had gathered around them. Akihito knew it wasn’t good for them to be attracting attention now, but he wanted his bat back.

“Look, I’m not threatening anyone with it, I-“

“What’s going on there?” A voice shouted from afar, and Akihito saw a policeman patrolling the area running towards them.

As if reading his intentions of wanting to grab his bat back, a hand pulled him back and dragged him away.

‘Hey wait! Let me go! I need that bat!”

But the young man didn’t let go. After dragging a struggling Akihito along a few streets, he finally released Akihito.

Akihito turned to run back the moment he was free, but he had hardly taken a step when he froze.

…

Where was he?

Glancing left and right, he saw designer boutiques lining up the wide pavement, and foreign cars whizzing along the road.

There was no way he could find his way back to where they were.

Akihito clutched his head in his hands and let out a groan. He was going to be so much trouble for losing that bat. He wanted to put it back before anyone found out that he took it, but now…

Seeing that Akihito was no longer running away, the young man said, “We should go somewhere inside for a while. They might be searching in this area soon.” After saying so, he walked off, as if expecting Akihito to follow him.

Akihito contemplated not following the young man, but he wasn’t familiar with this part of Tokyo at all. After all, no one without at least 100,000 digits in their bank account would come to this area.

He sighed.

With no other choice, he walked behind the other boy.

Everywhere they went, passersby turned their heads and did a double take at the young man. Akihito scowled. Sure, even amongst alphas, the young man was pretty good looking, with his tie yanked down and collar loosened, but he has flaws too, like…

…

Akihito couldn’t come up with any imperfections. And that irritated him even more.

There’s no way someone has no flaws. Maybe his height? But he was pretty tall. Then his face? Nope, it seems as if God had forsaken the rest of humanity’s appearance after creating one masterpiece.

Because Akihito was so deep in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the boy in front of him had stopped in his tracks and walked straight into him.

“Oww,” Akihito complained, rubbing his nose. At least he smelled good-

Wait, what?

Shocked at his own thoughts, he realized a second too late that the other boy had already veered off course and into a building.

He looked up at the building. The bright lights displaying the word ‘cinema’ shone down on him.

Akihito quickly darted inside the building. The smell of popcorn greeted him. By the time he stepped inside the foyer, the black haired boy was already at the ticket counter. Turning to Akihito, he asked, “Are there any films you want to see?”

“Yeah sure, are they still screening Barbie or My Little Pony?”

The young man gave him a deadpan look, then turned back to the lady at the booth.

“Then two tickets for the next film that’s screening.”

The lady smiled at them both kindly, and handed them their tickets.

“Please enjoy.”

Akihito walked up to him when he saw he paid for both of them. “How much was it? I’ll pay for my own.” He moved to put his hand in his pocket, but-

Shitttttt

His hand came up empty.

He had left in such a hurry this morning that he had forgotten his wallet.

“I-uh…”

Akihito shifted his feet, eyes gravitating towards the ground, suddenly finding a spot on the carpet really fascinating.

“I kinda...uh…”

The young man simply handed Akihito his tickets, along with a wad of notes.

“The concession stand is over there. I will wait for you at the entrance of the screen.”

He spoke curtly, and before Akihito could protest, he had already walked off.

Akihito stared at the bills in his hands, eyes wide. Holy crap, he must be rich. The black haired guy still seemed a bit angry, but Akihito brushed it off his mind and headed towards the snack stand.

When Akihito came back, the raven haired boy raised his eyebrows. In fact, all the cinema goers did a double take when Akihito walked past them.

He was holding a jumbo pot of popcorn. Balanced on top was a super sized hot dog and a small tray of takoyaki. In his left hand he was holding a cup of soda, and dangling between his fingers was a bag of candy floss. His trousers pockets were also bulging.

He shrugged when he saw the other boy staring at him.

“I didn’t have breakfast.”

Miraculously, or perhaps, incredibly, Akihito was able to walk down their aisle without dropping a single popcorn. He stopped short when he arrived at their designated seats.

“...”

“What is it?”

“No way. No way in hell am I gonna sit in that.”

What Akihito was referring to was a special seat for couples. The red sofa-like seat was heart shaped and there was no armrest in between.

Just looking at it made Akihito shudder.

Why the hell would they give them that seat?!

He stormed out of the screen.

“I want a change of seats.”

The lady at the booth looked flustered. “Ah, uhm, my deepest apologies, but there are no more vacant seats.”

“Is that delinquent causing trouble?”

“Maybe he wants to watch it for free and is harassing the poor girl.”

I can hear you, Akihito turned and scowled at the other movie goers whispering behind his back.

A hand yanked his collar.

“Hey- what are you doing?! Let me go!”

So once again, Akihito was dragged away, back towards the screen and into the seat.

“Did no one tell you it’s rude to drag someone?” Akihito glowered at the other man.

“Then don’t make a big scene, unless you want to be kicked out.” He sat down, and faced the screen, putting an end to the conversation.

Armed with no more options, Akihito sulked in his seat.

But they were in such close proximity that everytime they moved, their knees would brush, so Akihito sat like a stone, only moving his hands from the food to his mouth.

The movie seemed to be a romance one, something about a pair of childhood friends finally reuniting, a jealous stalker that comes with the package because the male lead was too handsome, and an unnecessary side character that keeps trying to steal the limelight.

Akihito was bored. Corny romance movies like these made his lone brain cell want to self-destruct. Especially that scene when one of them got kidnapped and got left on a stranded island, and the other braved through blazing gunfire and somehow could miraculously operate a helicopter and save the other person.

Maybe it was because of the film, but a certain memory from his past surfaced up, a memory that he had hardly thought of anymore.

When he was young, he made friends with another boy slightly older than him. He thought they were best friends, but after they got their tests back on their secondary gender, and he told his friend that he was an omega, the other boy slowly then completely dropped contact.

Probably thinks he’s too great to play with an omega.

What was that boy’s name again? Asami Ryuichi right?

...

Suddenly, the popcorn in his mouth felt like sand. The bucket of popcorn tumbled from his hand, spilling loudly across the ground. Several heads turned towards them, but Akihito couldn’t care less right at this moment. He jerked his head towards the person sitting on his right so hard that he nearly got whiplashed.

Didn't the Goatee guy call him Asami? Akihito raked through his memory hard. But it was all a blur since that weird time-stop moment had happened.

“...What’s your name?”

The black haired boy’s mouth thinned, as if Akihito had asked him a question he didn’t want to answer. His eyes stayed glued to the screen.

The glare of the light from the screen should have turned his face into an unattractive landscape of washed out colours, but it only made him more beautiful.

Just when Akihito thought he didn’t hear him and was about to ask again,

“...Asami.”

His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but Akihito’s heart took the expressway straight to his stomach. His jaw dropped to the floor.

So that’s why he looked uncomfortable when Akihito mentioned the person he knew from his childhood, they were the same person!

“Why didn’t you say that you were Asami earlier?!”

Unable to contain his shock, Akihito inadvertently raised his voice.

The other movie watchers turned to them in shock.

“Did he say Asami?”

“The Asami?”

“No way!”

The whispers spread like a ripple across a still lake. Asami stood up abruptly and exited the screen. He didn’t say another word until they were both outside the building. Akihito followed behind without a word, slightly regretting his outburst. Then, with a furrow in between his brows, Asami said with a voice that carried an exasperated resignation.

“Do you have to cause a commotion everytime you go somewhere?”

“Hey, that wasn’t on purpose!” Akihito said reflexively. Or rather, heard himself say. His mind was still reeling at the revelation.

But it wasn’t surprising that the other people were shocked. The Asami family was famous. It was an old family, with their influence extending to everywhere from politics to business. And they were one of the wealthiest families in Japan.

They walked aimlessly down the street in silence.

A thousand questions burned in Akihito’s throat, and a thousand questions extinguished in his mouth.

What should he say? How have you been? Or, why did you leave?

The betrayal after so many years still stung, but everytime he saw Asami, the questions died. There was something different, something untouchable about Asami now, that made him seem so different from the young boy that lived in Akihito’s memories.

A loud rumble echoed.

It seemed that Akihito had done too much thinking.

Asami turned back, his eyebrows raised.

“Are you still hungry?”

“Hey,” Akihito raised both of his hands, “I didn’t even get to finish eating the food I got before we left the cinema.”

Akihito's eyes trailed around, and landed on a golden arch of the letter ‘M’.

“There, let’s go eat there.”

He probably has never been into a fast food restaurant before. Akihito sniggered inwardly. Payback number 1.

Akihito grinned at Asami, “Though there’s no knife or forks there. Are you sure you are going to be alright?”

Asami shot him a withering look, then headed inside.

But to Akihito’s surprise, instead of looking uncomfortable, Asami walked up the counter and ordered without any hesitation.

The person at the counter placed a cup of sundae on their tray.

“Here, it’s a free special sundae for couples when you buy two or more deluxe meals because it’s White Day.”

...It’s White Day today?! Of all days to meet with Asami again. Akihito facepalmed inwardly. But Asami didn’t seem bothered. He took the tray, and sat them at a table near the corner. He pushed three burgers with fries towards Akihito, and only took one for himself.

His long elegant fingers unwrapped up his burger. He looked so refined, so out of place in a cheap burger chain, and if Akihito didn’t know Asami, he would have thought Asami was a model shooting a commercial.

At that moment Asami glanced up, his eyes met Akihito’s.

“Eat.”

Embarrassment coloured Akihito’s cheeks at having been caught staring. He quickly stuffed the burger in his mouth.

Still, after the three burgers, Akihito stared at the sundae. It looked delicious. Strawberry sauce dripped enticingly off the soft peaks of the ice cream.

Asami must have seen him staring at it with sparkling eyes because he said, “You can have it.”

“All of it?” Even when saying so, Akihito was pulling the cup towards himself.

The first mouthful was bliss, and a content smile naturally spread across Akihito’s face. But all too soon, the cup was empty. Akihito leaned back in his chair, his hunger finally abated. Now that they had both finished eating, the silence made Akihito shift uncomfortably in his seat. His fingers fiddled with the empty cup. He was just thinking about how to break the silence when Asami beat him to it.

“What were you doing there this morning?”

For a brief moment, Akihito’s mind pulled up empty. Then he stiffened as he remembered the reason and that he was with an alpha himself. A sour taste entered his mouth, and a scowl appeared on his face.

“That goatee gorilla guy harassed my friend's girlfriend. He forcefully used his pheromones on her and made her go into heat. Luckily Takato arrived in time, but who knows what would have happened if he didn’t.” The cup got crushed in his fist.

Asami was silent, then, “You should stay away from him.”

Akihito’s anger started to simmer up again. “Didn’t you hear what I just said he did? No way in hell am I gonna let him off the hook for what he did.”

“It’s not your problem, is it?”

“Takato’s like my brother, so of course it’s my problem! Plus, his attitude pisses me off, you heard what he said-“

“Don’t go near Sakazaki.” An edge had entered Asami’s voice.

Akihito sat back, folding his arms. He wasn’t about to back down. He glared at Asami. “Are you protecting him?”

Asami looked disgusted at the very idea.

“Then what’s your problem with me-“

“You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“That doesn’t scare me-“

“Akihito.”

The air surrounding them suddenly became thin. Akihito’s mouth snapped shut.

“Do. Not. Go. Near. Him.”

Asami’s words were flat, cold. He spoke slowly, but there was no masking his anger. His golden eyes burned into Akihito’s, preventing Akihito from looking away, and for once, Akihito was at a loss for words. Asami held his gaze for a few more seconds, then he stood up, taking the tray to the nearby trash can.

The silence returned, and neither of them made any attempts to break it. Akihito’s mood was black and refused to look at Asami. Did Asami expect him to smile, nod his head and go, “Yeah, sure, I won’t.”?

Asami made no move to break it either. He simply walked out of the restaurant and along Main Street and flagged down a taxi. Seeing Asami talking to the driver and handing him a wad of cash, Akihito had just decided to turn around and blindly walk around until he was at a familiar place when Asami pushed him inside the taxi.

He leaned against the car door frame, his eyes capturing Akihito’s, and said, “Remember what I’ve said. Don’t go near the school or Sakazaki again.”

“Now wait a damn minute you-“

He closed the door to the taxi before Akihito could say any more.

Then, he spun on his heel and strode away briskly, disappearing into the crowd of people, and the taxi pulled away.

*****

The moment Asami closed the door to his room, he slumped onto the ground, all the energy leaving his body.

Why, why did he have to appear again now of all times?

[xellshun]

Feeding The Beast

I stand firm when supporting one of my favorite quotes: Evil is never born, it is created. All things were once good in the beginning, even Satan.

With the developement of my disorder and my descent into becoming a sociopath came many dark traits that I’ve used countless times to calm my urges and impulses. Most of them are fairly common among those with ASPD. But one quality has always stood above all the others.

My desire to victimize as many women as possible.

This post will focus on this trait rather than HOW it came to be but I will share a little bit of my past just to give you a general idea of it’s origins.

Over the course of the last 7 years I went through 3 very traumatic relationships. But before I did, I was a very kind hearted, ambitious, compassionate person with a huge dream of some day finding the love of my life, building a family, and living out the same fairy tale ending that my parents and their parents had before them. I had this perfect image of how my love life would work out and I based it off of what I watched my family build as I grew up. I grew up with a very close, caring, and loving family. So going into adulthood that’s just how I thought things were supposed to be.

I didn’t realize how fucking wrong I truly was and I was no where near prepared for the 7 year long nightmare I was about to go through...

The first of the three stages was when I lost my first true love - the mother of my beloved son. Not only did I loose her along with all my hopes and dreams of having that fairy tale ending. But I lost her while she was still pregnant with my son... So along with the initial pain, my first experience of pregnancy and my introduction to being a father were stripped from me and left me in a state of mind that pushed me into making my FIRST step down the dark I would eventually get lost in. She was what I would eventually call “The First Heartache”

The second stage happened with my next serious girlfriend. She would not only be my second love but would also end up being the girl who would eventually become extremely abusive. Physically, emotionally, mentally - she tortured me. She ultimately become what I called “The Abuser”

At this point, my disorder was born and rapidly growing. Coupled with emotional distress and a newly developed addiction to drugs and alcohol, my next relationship would only escalate the problems. She was a drinker, a drug user, and eventually a cheater. Her betrayal lead me down a path filled with an unending urge to stay intoxicated to cure the pain. And even though I should have left both her and the last girl, I didn’t. I was constantly trying to fill the void in my heart left by the first girl. But this third girl was no better than the last. She eventually became what I called “The Drunk Cheater”

By this point, my son was 5 years old. My relationship with him and my family was greatly damaged. I had come off my ADHD medication, struggled to stay employed, struggled with money, wrecked and totaled my vehicle, got into trouble with the law, did time in jail, struggled on and off with addiction to both drugs and alcohol, lost many of my friends... And above all else...

I lost myself...

And I forgot the feeling of remorse... Of empathy... And love...

The person I became and am now is the total opposite of who and what I was 7 years ago. Me then and me now wouldn’t even recognize each other if they met...

And thus, the sociopath was born... And within the dark pit of inhumane emotions, impulses, and urges.. The strongest one was my unending thirst for revenge...

And with that, the player mentality became supreme. And with it every aspect of my life would shift, change, and become centered around an unending cycle of chasing women. It started out as me just having fun and enjoying the single life and eventually evolved to what I do now.

So what do I do? For starters, I supress the monster underneath, I go out and I hunt women. I will often create several dating profiles, all of which with the same pictures, the same information about myself, and it has quickly turned into a game of seeing how many women I can sleep with in the shortest amount of time.

People would probably tell me “You sound like every other typical asshole player.” And it’s partially true, but in my mind I am a hunter. But I don’t hunt with the goal to kill (or hurt these women). I hunt with the goal of capturing and retaining them. I go out with my sociopathic mask, looking friendly, nice, and emotional. I play the part of a good honest man who just wants to settle down. For each individual girl I would learn her, everything about her, I would research her and read her like a book. I would figure out exactly what she wants and needs in a partner and I’d become that to the best of my ability. Once they are lured in I deceieve and manipulate every situation. Slowly and pateintly I shift the mood and create a large amount of sexual tension. I never come off as the creep, I never make them uncomfortable, and I always wait for THEM to make the first move. Why? Because it makes me feel powerful. And when we finally reach the point of having sex the sexual side of my sociopathic tendencies comes out. You see, I don’t care about finishing. It’s not what I look forward to and I don’t need to finish to be happy. The only thing that matters is HER pleasure. In those moments of intercourse I do everything in my physical ability to fuck them in every way they fantasize about. The porn star comes out and my one and only goal is to fuck them to the point where they are physically sore and trembling from orgasms. I want them to have issues walking the next day, I want to rearange their insides, and turn their intestines into soup. It almost never fails and this newly found dark skill has increased my body count from a pathetic 5 (my son’s mom) to a body count of 52 as of this last weekend.

But do I stop there and leave them in the dust? Hell no! I keep them around, I drag them around, and am constantly looking for new targets daily. I keep them around for many reasons - sex, money, drugs, alcohol, transportation, parties, new friends... And some times I’ll keep them around and create friendships with them so I always have someone to talk to or hang out with.

This way I am never bored and can always feed whatever hunger comes into my darkened heart...

I have done so many messed up things. Slept with more than one girl in a single day, slept with a new girl every day of the week, fucked a girl and then fucked her best friend. I’ve made women cheat on their boyfriends and then turned around and hung out with their boyfriends. I’ve made wives cheat on their poor unknowing husbands. Some would find out and their wives would leave them for me. Others would simply ask me to never mention it. Do I respect their wishes? Of course! Like I said. I never purposely treat any of these women poorly. I do this so that I can retain my image as a good and normal man. But more often than not, it’s the sex that makes them come back. I can’t tell you how many girls I’ve dicked down. I’ve been with all kinds of girls. Blondes, redheads, burnettes, thick girls, thin girls, small boobs, huge boobs, some who could be porn stars, some who were covered in tattoos and peircings, some were cam girls, some were strippers, some were partiers, drinkers, some were moms, some were church girls, some were younger, some were older... I think the only type of girl I have yet to be with is an Asian... Gunna have to change that...

I’ve been all over the place too. I can’t go to ANY surrounding town from where I live without knowing a girl I’ve fucked there. It’s hard enough when I’m out running errands too, can’t go fucking anywhere without the chance of seeing one of my victims.

All in all, it’s the thrill of the chase, it’s the thrill of knowing what lurks beneath the mask while they remain clueless, it’s the feeling of being so cold and heartless yet have the ability to bring them so many emotions I can’t feel, it’s about giving them the best sex of their lives, it’s about the satisfaction of leashing them along like pets, it’s about POWER and CONTROL. The two fucking things I had so little of when this all started during those 3 toxic and traumatizing relationships.

And in the deepest, darkest corners of my sick mind... In these many moments of deception and manipulation... I trick myself into believing that these poor girls I victimize are my exes.. In an attempt to feel some type or form of revenge to dowse the neverending burning fires of PURE HATRED that have turned my entire world into a place of devastation that is now just as dark as my heart...

For me, women as a whole, are my newly developed drug addiction. When I see them, I don’t see people, I see prey that I can use for whatever benefit I see fit. And if those benefits run out I simply take them to the slaughter house and use them one last time. Rejection doesn’t faze me either. If a single sheep manages to escape my fenced in prison it doesn’t bother me, the herde always consists of between 10-20 women at all times. It’s as easy as a simple hunting trip, which I honestly enjoy. After all, it’s always good to get out every once in a while.

This is what my life has turned into. A never ending sickening cycle of trying to fill in the void within my heart that they left behind those years ago. But in the end that ONE thing that can fill this whole is the one thing I avoid the most - Love...

Yes, my therapist knows about all of this. It’s great because my therapist is a female so it’s nice to be able to share my stories and brag to a girl who’s job is to help me. She probably thinks I’m a fucking piece of shit and I don’t blame her. But she’s a professional and has to help people like me.

We’ve discussed goals throughout therapy on ways for me to relearn the feelings of empathy, remorse, love, and so on... It’s one of many goals and this is the one I have the most trouble with... Part of me wants to change and go back to being normal. But the other part of me wants to keep doing what I do best because it’s just so much damn fun.

So will this part of me ever change? I think so. I hope so. The only other times I went from being a total man whore to a faithful loving man was every time a girl would come into my life who was strong enough to snap me out of dark ways... So far it’s only happened twice. My body count is at 52 and going up more quickly than ever. I’ve spoken to thousands of women, met hundreds, recieved thousands of numbers, thousands of X rated pictures and videos of these women, I’ve had sex thousands of times, and it’s getting to the point where these women just seem to blur together...

There’s little hope of finding a girl strong enough to pull me from the darkness this time. And honestly, I’m okay with it. I am at a point where the darkness is comforting and feels like home...

So this time around.. Not only does she need to be strong enough to pull me out... She needs to be brave enough to venture into a world of total darkness...

[emospritelet]

Robert Sutherland goes to campaign in Scotland and meets Belle who is the local librarian of a tiny town. The Library is in danger of closing due to lack of funding

Sutherland getting his arse handed to him will always be amusing to write

x

No matter how many times she read the letter in front of her, the message it delivered was no less devastating. Belle French could feel her lower lip tremble, her eyes stinging with the first tears born of hopelessness and frustration. After everything she had done, the arguments she had had with the Town Council and the evidence she had produced in support of her pleas, it appeared they had made their decision. 

Dear Miss French, the letter said. It is with great regret that we write to inform you that the Council was unable to find funding for the library within the constraints of the coming year’s budget. Severe Government cuts to local authority funding have meant that some difficult decisions needed to be made, and it was felt that a further rise in Council Tax would have caused intolerable hardship to struggling families. With a straitened budget, therefore, the Council has decided to prioritise public safety and the long-awaited bypass, which will ensure Avonleigh’s future growth and prosperity…

Belle tossed the letter aside, blinking rapidly as the first tears fell. It was over. Two years of fighting to keep her head above water, two years of fundraising in the close-knit community, and it had all been for nothing. The library would close at the end of March, probably for good. It meant that not only would she be out of a job, but also that the town of Avonleigh would lose its heart. She wanted to scream at the short-sighted decision of the local councillors, and rage at the politicians in Whitehall who had seen fit to cut local authority funding in the first place. 

She slumped back in her chair, shaking her head. A cup of tea was still steaming on the little table next to her, and she reached for it, glancing at the television as she did so. Her eyes narrowed as a familiar face appeared: a man in an expensive suit and crisp white shirt with short, light brown hair turning silver at his temples. He was shaking hands with people she recognised as local market traders, and she grasped the remote, flicking the volume back on.

“And we are live with the Prime Minister on a walkabout in Avonleigh, one of the constituencies tipped as a possible gain for his party in the next election,” announced the newsreader. “The recent grant of a lucrative defence contract to local firm Arendelle plc, the town’s main employer, has provided a significant boost to Robert Sutherland’s poll ratings, and it seems that local residents are responding positively to the visit...”

Belle jumped to her feet, fury rising up within her, a raging torrent. He had the nerve to come to her town and act like he was some kind of saviour? How dare he!

x

Sutherland had prepared himself for being heckled. Visiting a constituency like Avonleigh, which had switched parties four times in the past six elections, was always something of a risk. But it was a good news day; the announcement of the new defence contract would provide a massive boost to the town and guaranteed the continued presence of Arendelle plc in the area, with job security for the 2,500 staff the company employed. Given the general decline in other manufacturing sectors, it was expected that his visit would be welcomed by the locals, and so far that was borne out by those he had met. His Chief of Staff, Anna Marshall, walked just behind him, keeping a watchful eye on the press pack that was tagging along and filming the interactions. Once he had done the walk through the market, it was off to Arendelle to give a press conference. The papers would have something positive to report on, for once. 

“Good of you to come, Prime Minister!” 

A burly stallholder held out his hand, and Sutherland responded with a nod and a smile, reaching out to take it.

“Glad to be here,” he said. “How’s business?”

“It’d be better if we didn’t have so much V.A.T. to pay.”

“Well, we’re looking into that,” said Sutherland. “Watch for an announcement in the next budget.”

“Keep it moving,” said Anna, in an undertone, and Sutherland shook the man’s hand again and walked on, reporters keeping pace with cameras on their shoulders.

“Prime Minister, is it true about Arendelle?” called a woman from a nearby fish stall. Sutherland smiled.

“It certainly is,” he said. “The new defence contract should ensure the presence of Arendelle in the local area for at least another ten years.”

There was a raucous cheer amongst the market stalls, and Sutherland smiled, nodding to the eager faces around him.

“I’ll be heading to the firm to provide more details once we’re done here,” he added. “I expect full coverage in the news later today. This is an excellent development for the future of Avonleigh, and ensures that this town will continue to prosper under a Government that delivers on its promises.”

More cheers, and Sutherland could feel that familiar warm glow of satisfaction at the success of a policy decision.

“Nicely done,” murmured Anna. “I think we’re almost finished here, so let’s head back to the car.”

“Prime Minister!”

Sutherland turned as a young woman with brunette curls and a determined look on her face marched towards him through the crowd. He held out a hand, smiling as she approached.

“Good morning,” he said. “Delighted to be here.”

“You’ve got a bloody nerve!” she snapped, putting hands on hips. “After the cuts you made to local authorities, you think you can come here and swan around the marketplace like some - some conquering hero?”

Sutherland blinked, letting the hand drop back to his side.

“Because of your policies, the people of Avonleigh are going to lose their library,” she went on. “The one place they can come for free computer access! The one place that runs literacy programmes for children and adults! Have you any idea of the damage you’re doing?”

The woman was glaring at him, clear blue eyes in a pale oval of a face, her cheeks flushed with indignation. She was also tiny, no taller than five feet four, and brimming over with righteous anger. 

“Alright, let’s move along,” said Anna firmly, moving to block the woman from his view, but Sutherland held up a hand. He had expected some opposition to his presence, after all, and he had to be seen to deal with it. The cameras didn’t stop rolling for his discomfort.

“Ma’am, the Government has been putting millions more into local services than the previous administration,” he said calmly. “But we have a finite budget, and—”

“Oh, don’t give me that bollocks!” she snapped. “You can always find money for defence contracts, can’t you? There’s always money to fund war and death and tragedy! But ask for a tiny fraction of that to do some bloody good in this world and it’s treated as the most unreasonable thing ever! Why is that?”

“—a finite budget,” went on Sutherland, as though she hadn’t interrupted. “Which means that difficult decisions always have to be made.” 

The woman let out a humourless laugh.

“Difficult decisions?” she demanded. “Have you ever had to decide between whether to heat your home or feed your children? Have you had to decide to sell your car to pay the rent and keep your family off the streets? The people in this town make difficult decisions every day, and the first things to go are luxuries like new books and after-school activities! Where else could they come for these things but the library?”

Sutherland wanted to sigh.

“Decisions on local authority spending are not made by my Government,” he said coolly. “Perhaps you should direct your concerns to your local Council.”

“Oh, you think I haven’t already done that?” she asked. “You may not make decisions at a local level, but you’re the one holding the bloody purse-strings! You’re the one who decides how much to cut local funding!”

“Actually, it’s the Chancellor of the Exchequer and—” 

“Is the literacy of the electorate not important to you?” she went on, as though he hadn’t spoken. “Or is it that you want to keep them in the dark so they can sit around and parrot whatever bullshit you drip-feed the news outlets?”

“Ma’am,” put in Anna. “This is neither the time nor the place.”

“No, it never is, is it?” spat the woman, blue eyes flashing. “Well, I’ve tried being polite and going through the proper channels! I’ve tried following the bloody rules and what good did it do?”

“Perhaps you could put all this in a letter,” said Sutherland, relieved at how calm he sounded. “I assure you that—”

“You treat the less fortunate in this country like a problem that can be ignored until it’s election year, then bought off with cheap gimmicks or distracted by xenophobic talking points!”

“Ma’am—”

“Well, it won’t stand!” she interrupted. “The people of Avonleigh will see right through you, mark my words! It won’t stand!”

She turned on her toes, dark curls swinging, and stormed off back the way she had come. Sutherland blinked rapidly. There was a buzz of conversation in the air around him, but he barely heard it. He felt as though he had been standing in the path of a grit-blaster, his skin flayed and raw. Anna stepped up beside him, giving him a very level look.

“Cameras have just stopped rolling,” she said. “I’d say let’s get to Arendelle before all the editors decide to rewrite their headlines, but I think we both know what’s gonna be playing on the news this evening. And it’s not going to be the new contract.”

“Anna,” said Sutherland. “Who the everloving fuck was that?”

[kingoftheravensarchive]

                                        SEEKING OUTLAWS

feat. @frostkingoftheapocalypse​ and @apogexn​

This town was a dusty place. A film of dirt and grime that settled into every nook and cranny available to it. Different from the smog of the eastern cities where smoke was the primary antagonist, this was nature trying to bury the town in a shallow grave. Unforgiving, like the sun that beat down on them, yet a place Loki was quite proud to call home. From his vantage point out the big bay window in his office he could watch the dusty people go about their dusty ways with a sort of grim satisfaction. People that had worries of their own, unique errands, choices and knowledge that differed from the next man. He wondered what horrors they had seen that were comparable to his own, what trials they had faced in life, if they knew death as intimately as he did.

Ah, but that was a morbid way of thinking and Loki, though a decadent personality, rarely allowed himself to employ morbidity unless in a humorous way. That was the brilliancy of personal thoughts: no one else could hear them.

“Sir.” From the office door, Keir’s head appeared, his hair neatly combed as ever and his suit pressed to perfection. It seemed dust never settled on the corvid regardless of where he went and what he did. Loki turned to acknowledge him, both brows raised in silent questioning. “Two people here about your flyer.”

“Ah, very good. Send them in.”

The flyer in question had been very particular about the character (or characters) it desired. Loki knew the law was of no use for him in these trying times because they were rarely ever of use in normal day to day occurrences. The idea of sending police after a mob was laughable and no doubt would be used against him the second the police were annihilated. No, no, Loki required a specific skill set that only outlaws utilized. He needed people who were adept with the blade, who understood the barrel of a gun, who did not shy from blood and gore, and who had an intimate relationship with death. And yet, he had to be careful. The wrong outlaw would sooner gut him for his money than do what he asked in turn for reward. He needed someone with a good head on their shoulders and a level of bravery to match.

He was, after all, offering an incredible amount of money in payment.

Loki turned fully from the window and braced a hand on the back of his chair in preparation for a greeting. He had, thus far, interviewed three other sets of people and had been left sorely disappointed in their wake. Either untrustworthy, unskilled, or terribly dull. Out in these western reaches of the U.S. it seemed like there was no end to the amount of outlaws running amok, and yet the second they were required they made themselves scarce.

Two people walked in and Loki was quick on his feet, directing them to the two chairs opposite his desk just as he reached the small side table where a decanter of alcohol rested. A man and a woman, that was all he committed to mind in those brief seconds, too focused on the task at hand to pause for the minute required to take these characters in.

“Sit, sit, sit, please. Scotch?” He poured three glasses without awaiting a response and set two of them on the surface of his desk. His own he held in hand, returning to his position just behind his chair. “Hello, hello, glad to meet you acquaintance. I’m Loki Iversen. You saw my flyer, yes? Good, good. Well, please, tell me a bit about your exploits, your talents--don’t worry about the police. I can hardly trust the fellas myself or they would’ve been involved in this. Bloody well can’t trust the law anymore than your own damn self, it seems. Anyway, hah, please, your names?”

The words came out fast, but the breath he had was sufficient enough and with the end of his ramble he punctuated it by downing the entirety of his glass in one go.

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[teamhook]

A Chapter a Day... Savage Heart CS AU

A love story between a pirate and his savior. An innocent, beautiful, selfless woman meets a man with no manners, no formal education and not even a last name. Will Emma fall in love with Killian once she discovers that beneath his tough exterior lies a heart-wild, but a heart of gold? This is a Captain Swan AU

Beta-ed by the awesome @ilovemesomekillianjones​​

|AO3| |FFN| previous chapter

|AO3| |FFN| current chapter

Chapter 19: Unfortunate Encounters

Time has ceased to move forward; at least that is how Emma and Killian feel. They find themselves in an almost euphoric state. They are so happy and they don't want to go out in the real world. They are currently sitting in the small kitchen enjoying the last of the food in an attempt to nourish them for the day.

Yet they will without a doubt soon find themselves venturing out into the world.

He knows that she wants to go check on her mother and he needs to check in on his business since he has left Smee without supervision for far too long. He trusts Smee but there is no need to give the man any temptation to possibly betray him. He knows his first mate to be a greedy man and for as long as he has been in his employ they have been successful in obtaining riches. He knows that is one of the main reasons he has remained loyal for so long; Killian has been a generous Captain and the relationship has been lucrative for the crew but none have enjoyed his generosity like his plump, red hat wearing first mate.

He is brought back to reality at the sound of his wife's soothing voice.

"Killian, I was wondering if I may join you on your trip to the Booth Estate. While you go about your duties I can visit with my mother but first, we will need to stop at the market for some food and other essentials."

"My love, I would love your company. I do need to stop at my office and check in with Smee. Then on my return, we can make a quick trip to the market and after that, we can head to the Booth's together."

"I can also go with you to the office. I would love to see it."

"Love, under normal circumstances I would be honored if you would accompany me but it is not a normal office. It is a room above my friend's tavern." He notices her eyes downcast at the mention of the tavern because although his wife has led a sheltered life she will still know the kind of dealings that go on in a tavern. "The location is only temporary; I will find an appropriate location soon. I will also need some sort of warehouse for the products. Last time I spoke with Archie before his departure he mentioned everything was flowing smoothly. If it would please you I can also send Smee in search for our food and whatever other supplies you require. That way we can have some extra time together and we can enjoy each other's company a bit longer now." He was looking at her with a gleam of mischief and promise of very enjoyable activities.

He would rather continue to enjoy his time with Emma; he had become addicted to her in such a short time. He wants to reach out and grab her and show her how much enjoyment he has to offer.

She looks into his cerulean eyes and feels a shiver go down her spine. She shakes off the desire and her mind clears.

"You look at me like you want to devour me and I would love to continue to enjoy your company but we both have some duties to fulfill. If you cannot accompany me to the market I am capable of going alone while you go to your office and take care of your business. Then we can go to the Booth's together."

"My love, I believe I have proven extensively that I can, in fact, devour you and I gladly will continue doing so until the end of time." He smiles as he holds her hand. "If I didn't know better I would say that you are denying your husband. That is simply bad form, love."

"I'm not denying my insatiable husband anything. Besides, one of us has to be reasonable and I thought you liked my form." She smiles and bites her lower lip. "All I'm saying is that you need to report back at the Estate and I need to check up on my mother. If only to prove I'm still alive and that you have been good to me." She flushes at the last statement. He had been good to her and made her feel things she knew nothing of.

Killian studies her face and smiles at her slightly flushed face. She is correct although all he wishes is for them to remain in the comfort of their home. They have duties and he feels reassured at the realization that they have their futures ahead of them. The vow was simple 'until death do us part'.

"It seems I cannot deny you anything, since you insist on going to the market instead of allowing me to send Smee in our place. I should be done in an hour. Is that enough time for you to go to the market and return home and then we can make the trip to the Booth Estate together."

"Yes, Killian, that should be enough time."

She notices he looks upset. "What is bothering you?"

"I don't like the idea of you going alone to the market. Before you jump to conclusions it is not because I think you are not capable." He takes a deep breath. "Sweetheart, I know you are more than capable of going to the market but everyone that has ever mattered to me has been snatched away from me and I'm afraid to lose you too."

"Nothing is going to happen to me if I go to the market alone. I may have a solution for that. How about we get Tink out of the Convent and bring her to live with us? We could get her a tutor or I could do it myself. I was homeschooled by the best tutors courtesy of Cora."

"Emma, would you truly do that for her? Wouldn't it seem improper? We are newlyweds and I hate to admit this but my reputation with women may not be the best and sadly it was well earned." In reality, he doesn't know how to tell her of his past with Tink.

"It will not be improper because we are married and besides we both know she hates the Convent. I know your reputation with women but I know you love me and Tink is my friend."

"We will discuss this later once we are in the comfort of our home."

"I have another question before you go. Killian, shouldn't Archie be back from Arendelle by now?"

"I believe the question you are truly asking is if your father should have returned by now and the answer is yes, but it truly depends on the weather, love."

"Oh, that is good news I can share with my mother." She smiles brightly then suddenly starts fidgeting in her seat.

"I was wondering if you plan on staying as Steward at the Booth's after August and Milah return."

He knows that is not the real question she is asking him. "No sweetheart. Once August returns I will tender my resignation. My business is doing fairly well and I have enough money saved for us to live comfortably. If you want to talk about this further we will."

They finally say their goodbyes and he leans in to kiss her. He truly wishes that she would have succumbed to the temptation of staying home and finding sustenance within each other.

Killian is walking to The Golden Goose Tavern thinking about the rest of the day and what it holds for them. He knows Cora doesn't object to his absence. He hates that he will be providing Cora a bit of information that will surely brighten up the rest of her life. He will be giving her her heart's desire once he informs her that upon August's returns he will be tendering his resignation. He hates giving that woman the satisfaction.

He has no idea how soon he will be giving his resignation and coming face to face with a scorned ex-lover.

Enith is tending to the garden when she sees a carriage approaching. She runs towards the house and goes straight to Cora's bedroom. She knocks urgently to get her mistresses attention.

"Come in," the older woman commands.

"Mrs. Booth, Mr. August, and Miss Milah have returned." The maid is filled with excitement at the news. She knows her mistress will be in a better mood now.

"Good, finally, thank you." Cora promptly gets to her door and in seconds is on her way to greet her son.

"Milah, I saw the carriage from my window. Oh, August it is so good to see you both." She hugs them tightly.

"Aunt Snow, we left as soon as we received your message. Did we make it in time?" Milah hopes that is the case.

"I'm afraid not. The wedding took place last week. I wasn't even present at my daughter's wedding." Snow says with tear-filled eyes.

"Emma is so different now and it is all that man's fault. I tried to convince her to wait for her father, for you but she refused. I tried anything and everything to deter her."

"That does sound unlike her. I wish we would have made it in time. I'm sorry; we really tried to arrive to stop Emma but we failed."

"Mrs. Nolan, how is it possible that Emma agreed to marry Killian? Last time we saw her, she was still insisting that being a nun was her aspiration."

"I have no idea. They spent a lot of time together because of that man they found sick and beaten. He found a way to corrupt her thoughts. She would have never thought to raise her voice at me before coming across that man. I just want my daughter back." Snow sniffles. "August, I asked your mother for help since I knew of her dislike for the man but my pleas fell on deaf ears."

Sadly, Cora is not the first to reach the newly arrived company. She is astounded at the speed in which Snow arrived to greet August and Milah. She cannot help but think that for someone with health issues, Snow sure moves quickly. She arrives just in time to overhear the end of the story that her old friend is telling them. She should have known that Snow would tattle and complain she did nothing to stop the wedding.

"Mother, it is so good to see you." August greets her and goes to hug her.

"Mrs. Nolan was informing us about the endless assistance you offered to Emma in marrying Killian, a man you despise and no one knows the reason." He looks at his mother curiously.

Cora lets out a laugh at the scene in front of her. "Let me guess, she was complaining that I did nothing to stop the wedding. That I didn't forbid Emma from marrying Mr. Jones."

"Mother, we all know that you hate Killian. I remember mentioning a match between them before he started his Steward position here and you were appalled. Then we leave on our honeymoon and come back to the news that you pretty much gift wrapped Emma for Killian. Explain to me, how any of this makes sense?"

"Oh, well, it is quite simple. You married her cousin instead of her. To make up for that unfortunate circumstance and lack of judgment on your behalf, I helped the poor girl since her mother just about disowned her for merely following her heart."

Milah cannot stop herself. "Following her heart? My cousin hates Killian just as much as you do and if it's possible even more." She completely misses her slip of the tongue but her mother-in-law catches it.

"Oh, my darling girl referring to another man by their first name indicates a very intimate knowledge of said person, and to come to his defense? I'm sure Killian would appreciate the gesture coming from a stranger. That is very unbecoming behavior for a newly wedded and young girl of your class to say of a mere stranger." She is intensely studying her reaction as she finishes speaking.

"Oh, I didn't mean anything by it. I have just heard August refer to Mr. Jones in such an affectionate way that it slipped."

Snow just watches the conversations between them.

"Of course darling, I'm sure that is all it is." Cora analyzes Milah's face and she can tell there is so much more to this story. She will leave that for now.

"August, dear, I thought you would be happy and approve of my assistance in the union of your," she rolls her eyes, "childhood friend and Emma, after all, you boasted of what a wonderful match it would be, did you not? Interesting, isn't it, Milah dear. How upset my son is to hear of the wedding of his ex-betrothed?"

Milah glances at August. "Does it bother you that Emma married someone else?"

"Of course not, I'm just concerned since she assured everyone that she wanted to take the vows and look at how distraught your poor aunt is."

Enith is still frozen in place and suddenly volunteers some interesting information.

"There was a rumor going on in town about a young countess getting involved in an unsavory relationship with Mr. Jones."

Snow snaps. "Are you implying my daughter had a prior relationship with that pirate before? She was betrothed to marry August and once that was no longer an option she was heartbroken and joined the convent."

"I'm sorry, I'm only repeating what I heard in town. If it wasn't Miss Emma, the only other choice would be Miss Milah." Enith cowers under Snow's glare.

All eyes fall on Milah. She takes a breath and defends herself. "I have lived in Port Royal most of my life and once I arrived here I was soon courted by my husband. It wasn't me. Oh, dear, it seems my perfect little cousin was not as innocent as she has led all us to believe." She looks in her mother-in-law's direction. "Maybe now you will see that I was the best choice for your son."

"Milah, you know perfectly well, Emma would never do anything like that." Snow is outraged that her niece would so easily taint her daughter's name.

"Aunt Snow, you have to admit she was adamant in marrying him. You said it yourself, there was no stopping her. No way to reason with her. Haven't you asked yourself why?"

Snow glares at Milah and walks away with her head high. "I don't need to further defend my daughter's honor."

"Mother, do you think Emma was in a relationship with Killian, prior to my return?"

"I would find it hard to believe but seeing as she just married him. I don't know, but I do know of the gossip that erupted once the news of the upcoming nuptials and leading up to the wedding day was extreme. I can only imagine that there was quite a spectacle at the chapel. Oh and the whispers of the gossiping commoners as they gathered around only to witness the fall from grace of a woman of honor degrading herself by joining her life to a lowlife bastard scoundrel. Sadly, I could not attend and show my support for such a union in public even if I hold Emma in high regards. I need to maintain some sort of pride in our image."

Milah cannot believe it; they are too late. "August, sweetheart, I'm going to go check on my aunt she was so upset. I hate that my cousin has disappointed her so much."

"Yes my love, you are so sweet and caring."

She smiles at him sweetly and glances at Cora as she walks away to follow her distraught aunt.

"Son, maybe we should continue this conversation inside. Even though we are in our home it will not stop the help from talking." Cora then turns to her faithful housemaid and waves her to follow. "Enith, go make sure that my son's bedroom is ready for him and his wife to rest because of the long trip they just endured."

They walk inside the big house. Cora cannot help herself and assesses her son's behavior to the news. It is almost as intriguing as her daughter-in-laws reaction.

"Mother, I have to admit that I'm shocked at the turn of events."

"Son, why are you lingering at the fact that Emma married Mr. Jones? What truly bothers you? The fact Emma married your old friend or just the fact that she married at all? Cora cannot contain her smile. "My dear boy, you wanted her to pine for you in perpetuity. I would never have thought of you to be such an egotistical man."

August looks away from his mother to avoid her knowing eyes. "Mother you are wrong. I'm just surprised at the swiftness of the events. It does make me wonder if perhaps there had been a hidden affair between the two."

"I will not dwell on those thoughts. I'm just glad it is over with. The thought of having to continue being civil with the man tires me."

"Mother, how much help did you offer?"

"Enough to move things along and I may have offered a dowry as well."

"That sounds generous of you."

"He declined the dowry. Maybe you were right and they are a good match. Now I feel a headache coming, please excuse me."

She leaves her son standing in the middle of the living room as she walks to her room in a triumphant strut.

August, feeling dejected walks aimlessly towards the office and finds solace in the company of his father's ghost.

Milah walks to her aunt's room and knocks.

"I don't want to talk to anyone."

"It's me."

Snow opens the door and looks at her niece and waves her in.

"I'm sorry for the things I said."

"You know perfectly well that Emma would have never done anything to disgrace the family name."

"That means you think it was me."

"I never said such a thing. Milah, people talk because they have nothing better to do. I believe that sometimes situations are misread. Perhaps my sweet Emma was just seen being polite and nice to the pirate and because of his reputation it was seen as scandalous."

"I think you are right. It was probably just an innocent encounter."

"Aunt Snow, maybe I should go see her and talk to her. I know it is too late but there are possible solutions. Offer the pirate money to leave her and send her away."

Yes, that could definitely work. They could send Emma away and keep the money for themselves. That solution would be perfect. She would keep Killian and no one would ever know that it was her. Actually, they would realize it by the time it was too late. She could see herself and Killian in a faraway land enjoying each other.

"Milah, I think that is a lovely idea. I don't have the address but Cora does. I'm sure she would not object to giving you the information."

"I think it would be a better idea if you ask her for it. She still has not warmed up to me."

"I will go ask her for the address. I really had hoped you would have arrived in time. I will be right back."

Snow leaves Milah behind in her room. Milah hears the door shut close behind her aunt. She walks to the window and thinks of her next move.

Meanwhile, Emma and Killian are leaving their home after an early day of errands.

Killian had quickly gone over the daily reports. Michael Thomas had proven to be a fast learner even though he was left to be trained by Smee. He would catch Mr. Thomas looking at him once in a while and then he would smile and ask him if there was anything else for him to do. Killian found the behavior odd and had asked him numerous times the reason behind his stares. The man would simply answer, "You remind me of someone I used to know."

Killian thanked Smee and Mr. Thomas for their work and informed them he needed to leave early to meet with his wife.

Smee would smile at him slyly as if he was in on a secret.

Killian noticed Mr. Thomas open his mouth and promptly close it.

"Is there anything else, Mr. Thomas?"

"No, I just wanted to extend my congratulations on your marriage and wish you a good day sir. I would greatly appreciate it if you would say hello to Miss Emma. I hope that I'm not overstepping."

"You are not overstepping. My wife is very fond of you. I will gladly convey your wishes and greetings to her. If that is all for the day, I have to meet my wife at home, enjoy the rest of the day."

Killian finally makes his way to his lovely wife. They exchange a quick kiss hello mostly because Emma is afraid Killian will get carried away and are quickly on their way to the Booth Estate in the carriage.

Emma is looking out of the small window admiring the scenery. "Are you nervous to go back to the Booth's?"

"No, I'm just hoping my father is here soon. The longer I wait for his arrival, knowing he is on a ship finally coming home, I worry something has happened."

"My sweet love, everything will be fine and before you know it your father will be here."

"You do know we both will have to answer to him about our rushed wedding among other things. My mother will not stay quiet about her position on the nuptials."

"For you my love I would face anyone, including an unhappy father. Besides, I truly believe I will win him over once he gets to know me like I did his stunning daughter."

The ride had ended speedily because of the discussion and the kisses Killian sneaked in during the conversation. They arrive at the house only to come face to face with an irate woman.

Milah sees the carriage approach the house from her aunt's window. She runs out of the room and makes her way to meet the carriage occupiers.

She is so full of anger she cannot think straight. Once she reaches her destination she stops in her tracks as she sees the intimate interactions between the loving couple. Milah glares at the pair.

"How does marrying my cousin help our plans? Please explain your reasoning to me."

Killian straightens his back and the tension rising there causes a loud crackling pop.

"Oh, Milah you are back. You must share details of the honeymoon, since I owe my breathtaking bride a much-deserved honeymoon of her own. It seems that some plans change and are not meant to come to fruition." He holds on to Emma's hand and looks at Milah. "You have personal experience in that matter. If you recall, there was once a long betrothal entered by an innocent young girl and a short courtship between a very different woman and a commoner that led to a proposal as well. The young girl got her heart broken and the other only thinking of her well being accepted the second proposal forgetting the promise she had made. In that moment a familial bond and a commitment made of love were broken."

Milah doesn't back down as his gaze stays focused on her every move, it is not fueled with passion but with fury.

"The man you left behind is no more."

"I refuse to take this lying down and be miserable, married to August? You and I had plans." She turns to Emma and back to Killian and laughs. "Shall I tell her? We were going to run away with all the Booth money we could get our hands on."

"Those plans are over and done. The only woman I want to run away with is my wife. You made the choice to marry Booth and it is only fair for you to suffer the consequences of your betrayal."

"I will not be the only one that is unhappy. You and my cousin will not enjoy your so-called happy ending for long."

"Do not threaten my marriage because I surely will forget that you once held a place in my heart or bed."

"How about you dear cousin, what do you think of our plan?"

Emma looks Milah in the eye.

"I cannot say it surprises me." Emma looks at Killian and looks back to Milah.

"Emma, sweetheart, I should have been honest with you..."

Emma shakes her head. "I asked for your intentions the minute you arrived and you lied to me. I didn't just ask once did I? Your response was the same; I want to be a better man."

"I did not lie about my feelings for you. I became a better man because of you. I love you. I fell in love with you. Yes, at first my intentions weren't honorable but the more time I spent in your presence and the conversations we had, those were real." He is looking at her with regret in his eyes. "We can overcome this. My love, if your love for me is real, I know we can."

"I'm not the one that lied. I do love you and that is the reason it hurts so much. I chose to see the best in you."

"I will never stop fighting for us."

Emma looks at Killian and smiles softly at him. Milah's voice brings her out of his loving gaze.

"Emma dear, you do not love Killian. Your heart has always belonged to one man and that is my husband. Just admit the truth; you only married Killian to get back at me for marrying your beloved. I still remember the vile things you would say to keep me away from him." She points at Killian. "I'm the one that loves you, she doesn't and never truly will."

"You are correct, we may not have started as a couple in love but we do love each other now. We lied to ourselves trying to convince ourselves that we were only marrying to protect your family from the rumors, but it is real. I love Emma and she loves me too. The here and now is all that matters."

"You two are delusional. It is hard to know who is conning whom."

"Milah that is enough! He is right, we love each other and we will honor the vows we made before God."

"Emma, tell me how it felt when he took you for the first time? Was it filled with passion and heat? That is the way it always was between us."

"He made love to me and it was beautiful."

"I don't know if I should feel sorry for you, cousin. That just means you do not inspire passion in him and he will soon get bored with you. He will soon take a lover."

"Let me guess, with you?"

"You have no idea how right you are. The fact that you arrived at that conclusion so rapidly is outstanding. You may not be as delusional as I thought you were."

"Bloody hell, Milah, we are over. There will be no rendezvous or clandestine meetings. Let me be clear about the simple fact that I made love to my wife because I love her. I will never tire of her. You have no idea how I hunger for her."

Killian walks toward his wife and holds out his hand for her to take, once she does they intertwine their fingers and walk into the house hand in hand.

They have no idea the luck that has shrouded their exchange as nobody's the wiser to the conversation. Snow is talking to Cora. Enith is following her mistress's orders to ensure August and Milah's room is clean. August had descended to the office to sort his thoughts.

The ship finally docks at Misthaven and David and Archie are finally home. Archie spots a young man named Felix and calls him over.

"Felix, is there any news on Captain Jones?"

"Mr. Hopper, the Captain married a countess just last week."

Archie turns to look at David. "We should head to the Booth's. I believe that is where we will find them."

"Alright let's go find my family."

@hookedonapirate @kmomof4​ @searchingwardrobes​ @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff​ @let-it-raines​ @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones  @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke  @superchocovian  @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @sherlockianwhovian​ @andiirivera​ @djlbg​ @nikkiemms​ @jennjenn615​ @scientificapricot​ @officerrogers​ @imlaxdris71​ @therealstartraveller776​

[mwolf0epsilon]

Seeing as your Joey (Diabo) has alchemical symbols tattooed to his arm and in one of your fics you called Ink Bendy a homunculus, how does the magical ink (black & gold) and the Ink Machine work in your world?

This is gonna get rambly, mostly because I'm good at explaining certain ideas but not the more complex stuff, so buckle up this is gonna be a bit of a stretch!

I'll even put it under a read more (if Tumblr mobile doesn't decide to ignore the order)

TL.DR: Joey made his own kind of black magic based on the principles of alchemy and equivalent exchange, created a material he hoped to use as a base for creating live toons, failed miserably because his rituals were not refined enough to work without trouble and due to his own insatiable nature.

---

[[MORE]]

I'm gonna first have to explain something about Diabo. Joey has been described by Henry as a man of ideas and only ideas but, considering his plans conceptualized the Ink Machine, I'd say it's a lot more than just that.

Joey "Diabo" Drew didn't just have the idea for the Ink Machine. He actively studied how to accomplish it, then found the one company competent enough to put his plan into action (employing GENT's most promising engineer just as he'd picked talented people to work at the studio). He's not good with money but he's good with researching all sorts of obscure things, occult rituals, and pseudo-science. He's not just your run-of-the-mill crazy Satanist. Oh no, he's much worse: He's a practicing alchemist.

Which leads us to how the Inks and the Machine work:

Joey didn't just pick a magic spell and go abracadabra, virgin sacrifices and spooky candles. He created his own rituals through amalgamating all sorts of pagan and satanic rituals, olden world witch practices, and the likes. All of it bound by a few principles of alchemy. Joey's brand of black magic is unique to him, which is why it's so unpredictable in the end. It's something imperfect and in dire need of refinement.

The Black Ink is the first product of him practicing these rituals. It's what he planned to have as a base for creating homunculi (the toons), and it was made with regular ink, a little bit of Joey's blood, and a few complex ceremonies that required very specific circumstances to be completed successfully. It was supposed to be the ultimate building block, but it was lacking severely in certain aspects.

But perhaps it's biggest flaw is that the Ink is sentient and lacks empathy, instead being driven by a desire to consume and become more (hence why it tries to escape and get inside a host). It's also sensitive to Joey's whims, to the point where it subconsciously obeys him to a certain degree (until it becomes sufficiently conscious to begin rebelling against his desires).

It's also parasitic in nature, and I'll likely put my thoughts on how it affects a person in another post.

The Golden Ink was an accidental bi-product of the Black Ink's creation. It's it's polar opposite in the sense that it isn't sentient and yet holds knowledge. It's a mysterious substance that Joey can't even begin to comprehend, but that he has used to keep things in check, since it seems to react to the Black Ink like salt to a slug (some items naturally have it and serve as solid limitators to the Black Ink's corruption).

My biggest guess is that it might be the liquid form of a soul or soul energy, but I can't be sure just yet since we don't have much to go by (here's hoping BATDR gives us a clue considering Audrey's abilities)

The first Ink Machine was a dual-functioning product of engineering and black magic. It was meant to not only mass produce the Black Ink, but also meant to create the homunculi. Originally Joey hoped to make toons completely out of his "perfect" base material and a simple template, but the Ink Demon's creation made him realize he couldn't create something out of nothing so to speak.

Although he may have had materials and a template, that wasn't quite enough to make a complete being. He needed the three most important things for creating life: A mind, a body, and a soul.

Equivalent Exchange became the centralized function of the much bigger Ink Machine that followed. The one that required more pipes, more ink, more sacrifice.

Granted the process took a while until it stuck (with Boris bring the most stable template it seems), and it's very likely that Joey might have studied Sammy's decline and transformation to finally get it right, as he was an ideal specimen in this situation (as well as an easily manipulated pawn).

It took too many failed tries to get the right product, and Joey using the first machine to contain his experiments is a whole other can of worms, but one thing is for sure: Joey was never satisfied. And his lack of satisfaction manifests itself through the Ink and the Studio within the Cycle. Whatever the hell his magic is, it's certainly not easy to master and has a likelyhood of failing in many disastrous ways. It's volatile, like its creator.

[skinnylittleredwrites]

My best friend, my lover.

TITLE OF STORY: My best friend, my lover. CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: 2/? AUTHOR: skinnylittlered. WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor!Tom. GENRE: Romance. FIC SUMMARY: Andrea and Tom have been friends since the beginning of time. Until a confession of love is made. This story follows the events of their subsequent relationship (sequel to You Wanna Play that Game? ) RATING: Explicit (language, references to sexual activity). WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: - FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: -

Chapter 2.

I don’t see how I could ever tire of this.

Surely, this feeling might be greatly influenced by the fact that, due to his absolutely hellish schedule his job all but demands, and the very static nature of my own job – I am, more often than not, essentially tied to my desk and the seemingly never ending piles of papers that consume most of my time at work and sometimes my free time as well, so more time than I’d ever care to admit to myself or any who may inquire – we have probably spent somewhere in the vicinity of maybe a fortnight in each other’s presence in the last three months and, while I would have been completely content with the situation should things have transpired in that way, there’s more to a relationship, I’m being told, than fucking each other’s brains for the whole of the time we’re together. Thusly, precious time which could have been dedicated to mindless penetration was regrettably wasted on romantic niceties and such other nonsense which I could have really done without, regardless of how cute they may be.  

This is precisely why, as I find myself kneeling against the headrest of his bed – well, technically, our bed now – and being pounded into with the fervour that I thought was only reserved for pubescent boys furiously masturbating against any surface even remotely resembling the softness that is specific to the female kind, I am relishing maybe more so than I generally would during copulation. Not to cause any misunderstanding, Tom has proved himself to be quite the competent lover, effectively obliterating the sparse doubts I may have amassed in regards to that topic. Doubts, I should add, that were compiled during the not infrequent locker talk that I either overheard or was a present participant to over the years of our friendship. Honestly, men have such a way of perorating about their sexual conquests that it renders a female of the even coarser sensibilities (or maybe especially her) to regard their grandiose claims as at least dubious if not entirely unbelievable. But, fortunately for all the parties involved, that is both myself and him, those claims are, irrefutably if not quite as monumentally, backed up by facts - he is a man of a certain degree of mastery, not to be overlooked, when it comes to gratifying the beautiful sex.

And here I am, being thoroughly gratified – thoroughly being the operative word – as I am taken from behind, with great enthusiasm. He’s got me by a fistful of hair and a fistful of hip, grunting as he thrusts into me, and it is music to my ears, accompanied by the sounds of his pelvis slamming into my ass – a symphony of absolute debauchery if I’ve ever heard one. I, naturally, being the refined erotic artist that I fancy myself to be, am holding my own to this most exquisite harmony of sounds, positive that my moans and screams of pleasure can be heard from across the street, but I indulge in expressing my satisfaction shamelessly, completely neglecting any sense of the basest form of propriety or moral value instilled in me since infanthood. I revel in the delights of the flesh to the uttermost extent, I am unabashed and completely incorrigible and I am -

Oh, god, I’m -

I cry out my climax, bending backwards toward him in a way that I am certain might be highly uncomfortable if not impossible were it not for the adrenaline shooting through me. He reaches to my ear and whispers rough words that would otherwise be insulting, that he would not be caught dead addressing a woman in a different scenario, but right now only intensify my pleasure, coaxing it out of me. I whimper and I come, as I am commanded, and it doesn’t register in my brain that I am no longer at my apex even minutes later, when he stiffens to his own release.

Panting and sweating, we both let ourselves fall on the crumpled sheets of our lovemaking. Tom is, soon enough, fast asleep, but I am, although physically spent, nowhere near enough to drowsy. I am somehow full of energy but unable to manifest it, and, to save myself from the eventual frustration that will overcome me in this paradoxal state and because of it, I raise from the bed and head for the shower, pondering almost disinterestedly at the domestic tasks that I have to accomplish for the day and other such things.

It’s been three months. Three very convoluted, intense, consuming months. So much so, that, except for the occasional talks we have confronting the subject during our very infrequent times together, we did not really have the time others may have to slide into conjugality, it’s still quite foreign territory, although broadly discussed. Between travelling to every and all corners of the world, filming and catering to his fanbase and, winning awards, we tried to fit in our newly developed liaison. We went on dates and held hands and our interactions slowly metamorphosised, without losing the friendly quality of the ones prior to our respective confessions, into something entirely new, but still very familiar. Our romance, we learned, is in the small things. Not much of our demeanour towards the other has changed, but the subtleties which make all the difference in the world are ever present, and those lay in our knowledge. He doesn’t look at me any differently, nor does he speak to me differently, nor does he hug me longer nor tighter, but his love, professed and recognised, gives other meaning to what was before. There are, of course, the intimacies that are entirely strange to the realm of platonic, but those are hardly ever on display – I am the part of him that the world shall merely know of, but never know – and to the couple of us, they seem but a natural extension to something that was present all along. But that does not domesticity make. This we shall learn as we go, one morning waking up together at a time.  

Or one homemade meal at a time? I speak the question rhetorically, as there is no one in the room to answer, and giggle at myself a bit as I’m chopping various vegetables for supper.  

Cooking was not an activity that I have ever particularly enjoyed or was any good at. Obviously, nobody is particularly proficient at anything from the onset, lest for an inherent propensity that might as well be divinely gifted, as the general consensus seems to be with the average folk, but I appeared to be, from early times, especially unskilled at any culinary endeavours. My attitude towards the matter was the insurmountable obstacle toward my progression in the field – I would never, for the life of me, be caught in the kitchen, either by myself or others, when the convenience of the ready-to-eat, brought-to-your-own-door meal was an available commodity, even in college, when money was less than it is now. With an upper middle class family to support me and a part time job as a barista, money was hardly the issue – it would be highly hypocritical of me to not acknowledge the very fact that beauty pays for itself; I am an example of the basic caucasian standard of classic beauty: honey blonde hair, blue eyes and a slim oval face, the body that I religiously keep fit to serve my vanity more than my health or any other purpose, and a sweet disposition that I nearly cunningly employ to my advantage, I would never dare say that life wasn’t made easier by those cumulus of facts.  

But cooking, or any other traditionally womanly activities, I discovered as I was growing up, became more tolerant, even pleasant when their result has a recipient. I may not enjoy preparing my own food, I am still as guilty of succumbing to pre-prepared commodities as I was in my youth when mine is the only mouth that needs feeding, but I certainly do enjoy putting a meal together for my partners, and Tom is no exception. If anything, he’s the instance reinforcing the rule. In the little time we’ve had together, I’ve made it my mission to bring him a home he can take refuge in anywhere we may be.

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

Ah, speak of the devil, there he is, all six feet and two inches of freshly roused glory, donning just boxers and a tee, and a self-satisfied smirk on his face, for somewhat reason.

“I did not buy it then; I don’t buy it now.”

“First of all, you said you did-”

“I lied.”

“And second, mean.”

“Am I?”

“You hurt my achey breakey heart.”

“I think your heart is just fine, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he chuckles against my neck as he hugs me from behind, sending a shiver down my spine. “My heart is mighty fine, although I do wonder about my stomach. It is very sanitary to be cooking in your underwear?”

"I am wearing a t-shirt!”

“...and no pants.”

“Well, I was going for sexy, not sanitary.”

“You’re always sexy.”

I huff.

“There’s no point to flattery, Hiddleston, with me, you can already get anything you want.”

“I’m not flattering. I do think you’re sexy. Always have.”

“Always?”

“Yeah. I never really wanted to admit it to myself, because that would have been... problematic, but I did. You’re a very beautiful woman.”

Although I am very much aware of that, his declaration still puts a knot in my throat and, like the sap that I am, my eyes become moist with overdramatic tears. I turn and rest my forehead on his chest, holding his body closer to mine. “I know.”

He laughs at my muffled reply, but is quick to chastise my illogical crying.

“Oh, dear, none of that. I can make a list of all of the things that are absolutely awful about you, then you can hate me and stop the waterworks.”

Sentiment promptly forgotten, I take a step back and glare at him.

“There’s nothing awful about me, I’m perfect!”

“Like hell you are,” his laugh is mirthful and unforgiving.  

“Fine. Tell me three things which are awful about me.”

His reply is matter-of-fact and not at all hesitant.

“You’re self-centred, vain, and not only slightly superficial. And, while we’re at it, your cooking’s not fantastic, either. I think you take after your mother.”

“That last one was mean and uncalled-for! But, fuck, I sound terrible. Am I so terrible?”  

The fact that I pulled out the puppy eyes on him on that last bit surely only emphasises some of my shortages in good character, because I’m doing it just to torment him. I know he doesn’t and I know he’ll feel especially bad for being so blunt in his criticism, and he’ll pull his very own variation of the puppy-eyes on me to be granted forgiveness later, which I will of course provide after making him repent.  

Orally.

“Why are you smirking all of a sudden?”

“Huh?”

“What’s with the face?”

“Ah, nothing. Up for takeout pizza?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

Yeah, we’re going to be just fine, Tom Hiddleston and I. Maybe not one homemade meal at a time, though.

________________________________________________________________

Author’s notes: It’s been about four years since I last wrote pretty much anything in any way literary (maybe some poetry here and there), and I decided that I miss it (and was pestered by some folks very dear to me to get my ass in gear and just do it again) so, yeah. Decided that, since I was so comfortable with the medium of fanfic, this would be a good place to give my writing bones a good crackin’, and so far things have been surprisingly nice. I honestly thought the fandom was dead, but it seems that you guys are still alive and very much kicking. 

Aaaaanywaaayyy.

I wanted to send out a huge, huge thanks to those of you who stuck for so long. It makes a girl shed a tiny but highly valuable tear. Also huge thanks for those of you who have stumbled upon my work while I was gone, those who sent messages and likes and kudos and reblogs and all that fun stuff. I came back to quite a number of those and, well, let’s just add another tiny tear to that previous one. Also thanks to those of you who are new to the my tiny blog of stories, another tiny tear and I will be full on tiny crying.

Thank you! 

[barnes-belle]

Beauty and the Barnes (6)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - Bucky X Reader

WARNINGS - Lots of Smut, Light Hints of Non/Dub-Con, Prostitution, Swearing, Dark Bucky. (I can’t stress enough that this is kinda dark, Buckys an asshole and the kind of behavior that goes on in this fic is in no way acceptable in the real world)

When your father falls deathly ill you fall into a lifestyle you would have never predicted for yourself. Selling your body as a high-class escort isn’t ideal but it’s the only way to find the money you need to help your father, until your first client offers you another way.

Bucky’s mean, coarse and gets a kick out of watching you squirm but he is willing to help your father. All you have to do is sign yourself over to The Winter Soldier, body and soul.

Trapped in The Avengers compound, serving as a PA to a man who’s an absolute beast you find yourself wondering if there’s such a thing as a happy ending?

Masterlist

Chapter Six 

“Why doesn’t she like me?” Bucky demanded.

 Steve looked up from the tv as he barged into his room and started pacing.

 “I assume we’re talking about Belle?” Steve checked.

“What am I doing wrong?” He asked exasperatedly.

 “What happened?” Steve said.

 “I know I’m a little… damaged. I know that. But I thought, I just thought….” He couldn’t get the words out.

 Steve sighed and realized he wasn’t going to get anywhere by asking questions.

 “I’m trying.” Bucky said softly.

 “I know you are Buck, everyone knows. You’re doing well.” Steve consoled him.

 “She was soft, and kind and sweet and she didn’t make my skin crawl. It felt real, she felt real. I just wanted to hold onto that.”

 “What do you mean she felt real?” Steve asked suspiciously.

 “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” Bucky bemoaned, sitting down heavily on the sofa and holding his head in his hands.

 “You realise I have no idea what’s going on right?” Steve checked.

 “Belle, she hates me.” Bucky explained succinctly.

 “What? Did she say something?” Steve asked, surprised and defensive.

 “No. I can just tell. And why wouldn’t she? I haven’t exactly been nice to her.”

 “Well maybe try being nice to her then Buck, it shouldn’t be too difficult. You used to be a dab hand at charming dames.” Steve scoffed.

 “How?”

 “What?

 “How do I make her like me?” Bucky pushed.

 "Impress her with your rapier wit, Shower her with compliments." 

 “It won’t work. Nothing will work, she’s never going to see me as anything except a monster. I don’t care, she’s just a girl. I’ll just ignore her unless she’s doing her job.” Bucky decided, temper taking over.

 “I could be wrong, but that might not be the best way to win the girl's affections." Steve said dryly.

 “I don’t give a damn about her affections.” Bucky said, standing up and leaving, slamming the door behind him.

 “Good talk…” Steve sighed to himself.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 “Pssst”  

 “No, g’way.” You mumbled, turning over to bury your head in the pillow only to send up smooshing your face into a cold, hard surface.

 You abruptly sat up and realised you were at your desk. Someone chuckled and peeled the form that was stuck to you off of your face.

 “Mr Stark!” You yelped, smoothing your hair back.

 “Imagine my surprise when I follow the smell of Chinese food and find an employee sleeping at their desk.” He joked, shoving a forkful of noodles into his mouth.

 “I am so sorry sir, I swear I didn’t mean to do it, I don’t even know how it happened.” You said hurriedly.

 “On your first day as well.”

 “It will never happen again.” You swore.

 “You’re not making a great first impression.” He warned.

 “I… well you’re the one stealing my food.” You retorted indignantly.

 He smirked and shoved the largest mouthful of noodles he could into his mouth, chewing loudly.

 “I really am sorry though.” You said quietly, ducking your head.

 “It’s 10’o’clock at night kiddo, I’m not mad you fell asleep, I’m worried that you didn’t go to your room.” He said, rolling his eyes at you.

 “I have a lot of work to get through.” You sighed.

 “It’ll still be here tomorrow, go to bed.” He told you.

 “But…”

 “That’s an order.” He interrupted.

 “Can you order me? I work for Sergeant Barnes…” You pointed out, biting down on a grin.

 “Yeah well he might be the one paying you but you are technically employed by me. So scram.” He instructed, flapping his hands at you until you stood up.

 You quickly put your things away and slid the rest of the takeout towards him.

 “Ah, yes. I’ll clean this up for you.” He smirked, winking at you.

 “How kind of you.” You laughed.

 “If I catch you here again I’m going to be having strict words with your boss.” He warned as you switched the light off and left the office with him.

 “I won’t, I promise.” You swore, crossing your heart.

 He nodded in satisfaction and wandered away in the opposite direction. You slowly, tiredly walked back towards your room, slipping your heels off and carrying them. Halfway there you remembered the rifle you’d forgotten and hurried back, peeking around the corner and sneaking into the office like a ninja in case Mr Stark caught you.

 “Whatcha doin?” His voice asked you just as you laid hands on the case.

 “Friday, you snitch!” You yelped, looking around and realising he wasn’t there, he was addressing you through the AI.

 “Don’t blame Friday, blame yourself. I knew you were shady looking.” He teased.

“Well excuse me for not wanting to leave a very expensive deadly weapon lying around in an unlocked office.” You said haughtily and picking it up.

 “Actually that’s fair. Get that rifle to where it needs to be and get your ass to bed.” He ordered.

 “Yes Sir, Mr Stark Sir, Right Away Sir.” You grumbled.

 “You know I can hear you right?”

 “Yes sir.” You smirked.

 “Bed, now.” You heard him say and then mutter something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘sassy little shit’.

 Not wanting to push your luck any further you quickly made your way back to your room. As soon as you closed the door to Bucky’s suite behind you and leaned against it exhaustedly, your eyes swept the dark, quiet room. Seeing it was empty you tiptoed towards his door, leaving the rifle case by his door and headed for your own room. As soon as your hand touched the door handle he spoke.

 “You’re late.”

 You screamed, dropping your shoes and pressing your hand to your chest, trying to contain your racing heart. You looked around the living area again, still not seeing him until he reached out and switched a lamp on. He was sat on the sofa, waiting.

 “What. The. Fuck?” You huffed, trying to calm down.

 “We need to talk.” He stated, emotionless.

 “Ok?” You said nervousness evident in your tone.

 You timidly approached him, sitting as close to him as you dared. He stiffened at your proximity and you hurriedly scooted away.

 “Are you alright?” You asked softly, less nervous and more worried about him now.

 “Do you care?” He snapped.

 “Yes.” You said straight away, without even thinking.

 Your quick response startled both of you, and you frowned at each other.

 “It’s my job to care.” You amended, berating yourself at how harsh it sounded.

 “We aren’t friends. I was wrong to muddy the lines by showing you… undue kindness. You work for me, nothing more.” He spat hatefully, glaring at you and you flinched at the anger in his tone.

 “What?” You asked, hurt by the way he had suddenly turned on you.

 “Is this… is this because I kissed you on the cheek?” You demanded and his jaw clenched.

 “You’re a whore, I want your submission not your affection.” He told you coldly.

 You tensed up at the vile announcement.

 “Very well. Thank you for reminding me exactly what my purpose here is, I was starting to forget.” You hissed, blinking back the sudden tears that were prickling at your eyes.

 “We aren’t friends.” He repeated.

 “No, we certainly are not.” You confirmed.

 “Good.”

 “So are we done here or do you need me to submit to you before I go to sleep?” You asked harshly.

 He clenched his fists and glared at you and you knew what was coming before he moved.

 “Go to bed.” He snapped and you blinked in surprise.

 “Before I change my mind, go!” He roared and you shot out of your seat.

 You all but ran for the room, flinging the door open but there was one last thing you had to say before you closed it.

 “My father means everything to me. That’s why I’m here. So even if you’re back to being a complete asshole, I’m still grateful you made sure I could talk to him. Thank you, even if your regret it..” You said stiffly before closing the door.

 You pressed your hands to your mouth the stifle the sobs that wrenched themselves from you, not wanting him to hear them. You flung yourself onto the bed and buried your face into the nearest pillow, the tears falling uncontrollably. You felt helpless and hopeless, lost and trapped. This was your life now, the plaything of this horrible man and there was no way out. All you could do was cry. You didn’t usually feel sorry for yourself but it was just too much to fight against and you let the tears come, until your body finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

 Bucky stood at your door listening to you cry, wishing he could just open the door. But he was the reason you were crying and he couldn’t make it any better, his presence would only make it worse. Eventually the gut wrenching sobs quietened down and he cautiously opened the door and peered inside your room. You were curled up on top of the blankets, still in your work clothes and he had every intention of closing the door and leaving but his feet moved off their own accord until he was standing next to the bed. Your breathing was deep and even, your eyelashes fluttering against your cheek as you slept soundlessly.

 He hoped whatever you were dreaming about, it was better than reality. You shivered violently and he grudgingly slipped his arm under your waist and picked you up gently to put you under the blanket. You turned in his arms and nuzzled your face into his chest and he actually felt his heart skip a beat. Instinctively your arms wrapped around his neck and your burrowed as close to him as you could.

 “Stop that.” He admonished but you of course ignored him, asleep as you were.

 He tried to put you down on the bed but your arms were firmly locked around him and he ended up awkwardly bent over, trying to prise you off of him without waking you. You made a low noise of contentment in the back of your throat and pressed your cheek against his chest, sighing softly.

 “I said stop it!” He whispered to no effect.

 His heart was jackhammering in his chest and he felt warm all over. He started to feel lightheaded and realised he’d stopped breathing. Pulling in a breath and forcing his lungs to restart he managed to pull your arms away from his neck and gently placed them by your sides. Just when he thought he’d made his escape your fingers laced with his before he could move away and you turned onto your side, wrapping your arm and his under yourself. Since he was trying to be gentle and not wake you he was unceremoniously yanked onto the bed, his legs hanging over the side.

 Internally swearing he balanced precariously on one elbow so he didn’t crush you as he tried to retrieve his other arm from your clutches but it was difficult, since you had his metal arm held close to your body, practically curled around it. Against his will, his lips quirked up at the corners and he smiled softly at the scene, his heart swelling in his chest. Until he remembered the way you’d tossed his flowers away and rejected any advances from him. You were asleep, you didn’t know what you were doing. If you woke up right now you’d be disgusted, with him and yourself.

 He balanced on his knees and grabbed a pillow, using his enhanced speed and assassin reflexes to yank his arm out of your grip and replace it with the pillow. He froze as he waited to see if he’d gotten away with it and you shifted, stirring a little before you settled down again and he breathed a sigh of relief. He pulled the duvet over you and tucked it around you, making sure you were covered and warm before he turned to leave.

 Something stopped him, some niggling feeling in his gut that was telling him that this was the closest he would ever get to you without seeing fear or hatred or disgust on your face. He slowly turned around to look at you again, so peaceful and calm. His fingers brushed against your cheek tenderly, mentally memorizing the perfect lines of your face. When he blinked, there was a dampness there that wasn’t before.

 “Goodnight Belle.” He whispered, slipping out of the room, quiet as a shadow.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky: How do I make her like me? Steve: Be nice to her. Bucky: *Is nice to her, when she's asleep* Steve: *Banging his head against the wall* THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!

My computer broke so I had to write most of this on my phone... It was awful.

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